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  "Everything." Her eyes suddenly cleared, and she shook her head dazedly. "Captain, I . . . don't know what I was picking up there. I was tapping into something immense, but it was so strange, so . . ."

  "Alien," said Investigator Krystel.

  "Yes," said DeChance, almost reluctantly. "I'm sorry I can't be more specific, Captain. I've never felt anything like that before. I didn't begin that trance; something called to me. Something . . . horrible."

  The simple loathing in her voice silenced the Squad for a while. Hunter was the first to pull himself together.

  "All right," he said briskly. "Keep listening. If whatever it was tries to contact you again, let me know immediately." He looked away from the esper and scowled at the forest. If there was something out there watching for them, it might be best to provide it with a smaller target . . . or two.

  He turned his back on the forest and addressed the Squad. "We're going to split into two groups, people. The Investigator, Dr. Williams, and I will try the western route round the forest. The rest of you will follow the eastern route. Take your time, keep it quiet, and keep your heads down. Two small parties should be harder to spot than one big one, but only as long as we're careful not to draw attention to ourselves. The two routes looked to be pretty much equal in length on the computer map, but the terrain is different; that could cause difficulties. Whichever group gets to the city first is to wait at the boundary until the other team joins up with them. That's an order. DeChance, you're in charge of your group. Remember, everyone, the purpose of this little trip is to gather information, not to take needless risks. All right, that's it. Let's go, people."

  The two marines nodded briefly, and then set off towards the east with Megan DeChance. Hunter watched the esper go, and frowned thoughtfully. He had no doubts about Lindholm and Corbie; they could look after themselves. But the esper . . . that last trance of hers worried him. She'd looked . . . different, out of control somehow, as though the contact had briefly overwhelmed her. He sighed quietly. The trouble with espers was that they were so damned spooky even under normal conditions, you couldn't be sure if there was anything wrong with them or not.

  It was asleep. We woke it up.

  Woke what up? Hunter scowled. There were always more questions, and never enough answers to go round. Still, the odds were the city would change all that. One way or another. Hunter nodded abruptly to the doctor and the Investigator, and set off towards the west, giving the forest boundary a more than comfortable margin. Williams and Krystel followed silently after him.

  Behind them, the forest moved through shape after shape, searching through memories of times long gone for one form it could hold to.

  They walked in silence for the best part of an hour. The forest gradually began to settle back into stillness, and the trees at the forest's boundary became firm and solid. Dirty yellow leaves hung from steady iron-black branches, and the gnarled boles were thick and sturdy. But further within, the darkness still stirred and writhed. Indistinct forms came and went, and the few shapes Hunter could make out were strangely disturbing, as though they hovered on the edge of meaning without ever achieving it. His hand itched for his disrupter. The forest offended him. He wanted to burn it to the ground, cleanse it with fire, punish it for pretending to be something it wasn't. In an alien world, where nothing looks or feels right, there's a constant temptation to see the familiar in things that bear only a slight resemblance to the original memory. The forest had looked reassuringly normal, almost comforting. Hunter had badly wanted to find at least one place on his new world where he could feel safe and at ease. Now that had been denied him. The forest had betrayed him by being alien.

  Investigator Krystel studied her two companions dispassionately as they walked along together. The Captain was going to be a problem. He wasn't being decisive enough. From her own experience in the field she knew that staying alive on an alien world depended on quick thinking and quicker reflexes. If the Captain had listened to the esper's warnings, the forest wouldn't have caught them unaware. The Captain was too trusting. Krystel smiled slightly. There was only one rule to follow in studying the alien: be prepared to shoot first.

  She had her orders. In the event that Hunter proved unsatisfactory as team leader, she was to replace him. By force, if necessary. It shouldn't be too difficult. The doctor wouldn't oppose her; he was weak, and easily swayed. The marines would follow orders, no matter who they came from, providing they were given confidently enough. And the esper would do as she was told. Espers knew their place. But when all was said and done, Krystel had no wish to be team leader. She didn't care for the work or the responsibility of giving orders. She worked best when others set the goals and restrictions for her. She knew where she was then. Her role as Investigator left her free to concentrate on the things that really interested her. Like killing aliens. So she'd give Hunter all the rope he needed. And only hang him with it if it proved necessary.

  The alien city troubled her. Technically, she should have insisted on contacting the Empire the moment they discovered the city's existence, but she didn't want to do that, just yet. Firstly, she'd look a fool if it turned out to be nothing more than a deserted ruin. They'd accuse her of panicking. And secondly, if she reported the city, the Empire would take it away from her. They wouldn't trust her to do the job properly; not after Grendel. The Fleet would send their own team in, and they'd get all the glory. Krystel. wanted this city for herself. She'd use it to prove to the Empire that they'd been wrong about her. She was still an Investigator.

  She tapped into the pinnace's computers, and ran the records on the city. The strange towers and monoliths lay superimposed on the scene before her, like pale, disturbing ghosts. The patterns and buildings matched nothing she'd seen anywhere else, which was something of a relief. The Empire's main fear had always been that someday it would run into an alien counterpart. So far, interstellar war was nothing more than a computer fantasy, and everyone fervently hoped it would stay that way. After the discoveries on Grendel, the computer predictions had become increasingly gloomy. Whatever had created the living killing machines on Grendel was quite possibly even more deadly and implacable than the Empire itself.

  Aliens. As yet there had been no sightings of who or whatever built the city, but still Krystel felt a familiar tingle of excitement running through her at the thought of encountering a new alien species. There was something about the use of sword and gun that brought her truly alive. All Investigators knew a single truth, and based their lives around it. Mankind has always achieved its best in the pursuit of violence. Investigators were the end result of society's search for the perfect killer; the most deadly weapon humanity could forge.

  And like all weapons, they needed constant tempering in the heat of battle to maintain their strength and cutting edge.

  Williams tried to keep his eyes away from the melting forest, and concentrated on the alien city. There was money to be made there; he could feel it. But the Captain was going to be a problem. Dictatorial, overbearing, and too straitlaced for his own good, that one. If there were any profits to be made from this world, Williams had a strong feeling it would be in spite of, rather than because of, Captain Hunter. Still . . . Williams smiled slightly. It was a dangerous world. It was always possible the Captain would have an accident. A very regrettable, but thoroughly fatal accident.

  The forest moved slowly past them as they made their way round its perimeter. Hunter kept a careful eye on the frozen boundary, but the forest made no threatening moves. He began to breathe more easily. Perhaps the forest was going back to sleep again.

  The bright sun was high in the morning sky when they came across the water hole. It was roughly circular, some ten feet across, and maybe a dozen yards away from the forest boundary. Hunter brought the group to a halt, and stood a cautious distance away from the water hole while he studied it. The water lay a foot or so beneath the level of the surrounding ground, which was dry and rock-hard, just like everywhere else. Th
e water was a dark crimson colour, and when Hunter leaned forward he caught a whiff of a faint, sharp smell he couldn't identify. The sides of the hole were scalloped in a series of regular markings, and looked as though they'd be unpleasantly slick and smooth to the touch.

  "We'd better mark the hole's position," said Hunter finally. "We're going to need a supply of fresh water soon."

  "Assuming that stuff's drinkable," said Krystel. "We only have a limited supply of purification tablets."

  "Yeah." Hunter frowned. "I should have brought some dowsing equipment, so I could run tests on freely-occurring water. It's one of the things we're going to have to sort out fairly quickly. Damn."

  "Don't care much for the colour," said Krystel. "Or the smell."

  "Perhaps I can help," said Williams. He moved forward slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the water hole, and then knelt down beside it.

  Hunter drew his gun and trained it on the well. "That's close enough, Doctor. What did you have in mind?"

  Williams held up his left hand, and retractable sharp-edged sensor spikes emerged from under his fingernails. "I have a number of options built in, Captain. You never know when they'll come in handy. Now, with your permission . . ."

  Hunter looked around. The forest was still and quiet, and the open plain was bare and empty for as far as he could see. "All right, Doctor; go ahead. But be very careful. There's no telling how far down that water goes, or what else might be in it apart from water."

  "Understood, Captain." Williams leaned forward, and lowered his fingertips into the water. The extruded sensors glowed faintly; five shimmering sparks in the crimson water. Bright metallic lettering appeared before his eyes, detailing the water's ingredients.

  "Well?" said Hunter. "Is it drinkable?"

  "I'm afraid not, Captain. This stuffs more like soup than water. Most unusual makeup. I'm reading metallic salts, a fairly high acid level, and what appears to be some kind of enzymes."

  Krystel frowned. "That isn't a naturally occurring mixture, Captain. It sounds more . . . organic."

  "Yeah," said Hunter. "I think you'd better get away from there, Doctor."

  Williams drew his hand back out of the water, and the dweller below struck quickly while its prey was still within range. A dark blue tentacle shot up out of the water and slapped around Williams' wrist. He screamed with pain as the hold tightened viciously, and had to brace his legs against the side of the well to keep from being drawn in. The tentacle snapped taut.

  Hunter fired instinctively with his disrupter, and severed the tentacle. Williams fell backwards, and scrambled away from the water hole without bothering to get up. The severed tentacle thrashed back and forth in the water. Pale purple blood flew on the air. Hunter stepped back to avoid it and three more tentacles erupted out of the churning water, attracted by the movement. They whipped around Hunter, pinning his arms to his sides, and then snapped taut. Hunter crashed to the ground, and fought desperately against the tentacles' pull. Their hold tightened, and hundreds of miniscule barbs grated against his steelmesh tunic.

  Krystel drew her sword and cut at the nearest tentacle. The sharp edge barely penetrated the leathery flesh, and she sawed at the tentacle to try and weaken it. The Captain was dragged steadily closer to the well's edge, despite all his struggles. Krystel glared at Williams, who was sitting nursing his bruised wrist.

  "Grab him, dammit; I can't do it all myself!"

  For a moment, Williams was tempted to tell her to go to hell. He wasn't about to risk his life for the Captain's. One look at Krystel changed that. He wasn't stupid enough to get an Investigator mad at him. He moved quickly forward and grabbed Hunter's legs. The extra weight slowed the tentacles down, but Hunter was still being drawn closer to the water's edge. Krystel sheathed her sword, drew her gun, and fired into the water. The tentacles writhed, slamming Hunter and Williams against the ground, but didn't release their hold. Krystel swore unemotionally, and put away her gun. She unclipped a concussion grenade from her bandolier, primed it, and tossed the grenade into the middle of the well. It quickly disappeared, and for a long moment nothing happened. The tentacles snapped taut again, and Hunter dug his heels in against the broken ground. Williams clung to the Captain's legs and swore breathlessly.

  Water fountained up out of the well as the grenade exploded down below. The tentacles bucked and heaved, casting Hunter and Williams away. The water boiled and frothed, and chunks of partially broiled flesh bobbed to the surface. The tentacles whipped back into the water and disappeared. The surface of the water gradually grew still, and a long, peaceful silence fell over the water hole.

  "Is there any life form on this planet that isn't treacherous and disgusting?" said Hunter, sitting up slowly and carefully.

  "Early days yet, Captain," said Krystel, lighting a new cigar. "The rest could be downright devious."

  Williams got unsteadily to his feet. "I think we should all return to the pinnace. The Captain and I could both be suffering from internal injuries."

  "Don't make such a drama out of it," said Hunter. He rose to his feet and made a token attempt at brushing the dirt from his uniform. "We're just bruised and battered, that's all. Now let's get moving again. The sooner we put some distance between us and whatever it is that's living at the bottom of that well, the better I'll like it. And in future, if we come across any other water holes, I think we'll drop a grenade down it first, and check the quality of the water afterwards."

  He turned his back on the water hole and walked away. Krystel and Williams exchanged a glance, and moved off after him.

  Corbie and Lindholm strolled unhurriedly after Megan DeChance as they left the melting forest behind them and headed out over the broken plain. The esper was some way ahead of the two marines, and the gap was slowly widening. DeChance glanced back over her shoulder, her face set and grim. She was tempted to order them to walk faster, but she had a strong feeling they'd just ignore her. Technically, she was of a superior rank, and the Captain had specifically put her in charge of the group. But none of that mattered a damn; Megan DeChance was an esper.

  Espers had a contradictory status in the Empire. On the one hand, their powers made them invaluable servants, much sought after and prized. But those same powers made them officially sanctioned pariahs, feared and detested by those in authority. Espers were conditioned from their earliest childhood to know their place; to be meek and obedient and cooperative, and never, ever, to challenge authority. Those who had trouble learning these lessons found them brutally enforced. All espers carried some scars, physical and mental. They were second-class citizens, tolerated only because they were needed. Every esper dreamed of escape, but there was only one sanctuary from the Empire, and that was the rebel planet Mistworld. Getting there was a long and dangerous journey, and only a few ever made it. Megan DeChance hadn't even got close. Which was possibly why she'd been allowed to join a Hell Squad instead of the body banks.

  Corbie didn't give a damn about espers, one way or the other. He didn't trust them, but then Corbie didn't trust anyone, including himself. If you don't trust anyone, they can't let you down. As for the esper's authority, if she didn't push her luck, he wouldn't either. He was in no hurry to get to the alien city. Let the Captain and his team get there first. They had the Investigator.

  He looked disinterestedly around him as he strolled along. The plain rose steadily before him, and then fell away again. Banks of pale red clouds sailed majestically overhead, clashing gaudily with the green sky. The ground was hard and unyielding under his feet, and covered with endless cracks. Corbie supposed he must have seen a more desolate landscape somewhere before, but he was damned if he could think when.

  They'd just crossed the high ridge when a low, rumbling sound suddenly broke the silence and the ground shifted slightly underfoot. Corbie and Lindholm stopped dead in their tracks and looked quickly around them, but the wide-open plain below was bare and deserted. Megan DeChance hurried back to join them, and the two marines moved automa
tically to protect her with their bodies in case of attack. The ground slowly grew still, but the rumbling sound continued, growing louder and more ominous. Corbie dropped his hand to his gun and glanced at Lindholm.

  "What the hell is it, Sven?"

  Lindholm shrugged, his face impassive. "Could be building to an earthquake. You're bound to have some earth disturbance with so much volcanic activity going on. It would explain why the ground's so broken up."

  "It's not an earthquake," said DeChance slowly. "I've seen this kind of terrain before. This is geyser country. Keep watching. They should start spouting any time now."

  Almost as she spoke, on the plain below a jet of boiling white water burst up out of one of the cracks in the ground and fountained high up into the sky. The water roared like a wounded animal, a deep grating sound that resonated in rhythm with the shaking ground. The fountain seemed to hesitate at the top of its reach before falling reluctantly back to the parched earth. The cracked ground drank up the water thirstily. One after another, a dozen and more geysers burst up out of the ground, mud and boiling water flying up into the green sky at heart-stopping speed. The roar of the geysers became deafening. Corbie turned to ask DeChance a question, but the noise of the eruptions drowned him out no matter how loudly he shouted. In the end, he gave up, and just watched the towering fountains as they soared into the air. Finally, one by one, the geysers fell away and disappeared as the underground pressure that fed them collapsed. A light mist of water droplets added a haze to the air. The ground rumbled quietly to itself for a while, and then fell still.

  "Impressive," said Lindholm.

  "Yeah," said Corbie. "It's a good thing we stopped where we did. If we'd been walking through that area when the geysers started spouting . . ." He shook his head quickly, and then looked at DeChance. "You're in charge, ma'am. What do we do now? Turn around and go back?"

  "It might come to that," said DeChance. "But I don't think so. Geysers usually spout at regular intervals. As long as we time it right, we should be able to walk right through the area while they're quiet, and be safely beyond them before they spout again."