Ghostworld (Deathstalker Prelude) Read online

  “Please, Captain. Listen to me—” Diana hesitated, torn between her need to explain what she was feeling, and the knowledge that she couldn’t prove any of it. “There’s more to this than whatever came out of the crashed ship. I’ve felt things, on my way down in the pinnace, and later on … there’s something incredibly powerful on this planet, Captain, and I don’t think it’s the aliens.”

  “You’re right.” said Silence. “It’s the Ashrai.”

  Diana chose her words carefully. “But they’re all dead, Captain. You saw to that.”

  “They may be dead,” said Silence, “but they sleep lightly.”

  “I could still use my esp to contact the aliens,” said Diana doggedly.

  “No,” said Silence. “The situation’s complicated enough as it is.”

  “So you’ll leave it to the Investigator? The killer?”

  “You say that as though it’s an insult. She’d see it as a compliment. Investigators are the end result of the Empire’s search for the perfect warrior. They started out working with the augmented men, the Wampyr and the Wolflings. That got out of hand with Haden, and the cyborg rebellion. So instead they created a breed of warrior that wasn’t reliant on tech implants; a race of killers trained from childhood to be the best at everything. Strong, fast, intelligent, ruthless. And trained, most of all, to outthink beings that don’t think as we do. Frost is in charge of all alien contacts, and she will make whatever decisions are necessary. She’s the expert. If you have anything further to say, take it up with her.”

  “Would she listen to me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. She understands the value of an esper.”

  “Perhaps I should talk to Carrion. He used to be an Investigator too, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” said Silence. “Yes, he was, once.”

  Diana could feel his pain even with her shields up, and she had to look away for a moment. Through the transparent bulkhead she saw Carrion and Frost walk out of the mists and head towards the two marines, who apparently hadn’t heard them coming and were a bit upset about it. Silence followed her gaze, saw Carrion, and looked away.

  “You knew Carrion from before,” said Diana. “What was he like, before he was a traitor?”

  “He was my friend,” said Silence, and then he turned and left the cabin. Diana stood where she was for a moment, to give him some distance, and then she followed him out.

  • • •

  Outside the pinnace, everyone stood and looked at everyone else as though they were all waiting for someone else to start. Finally Silence nodded curtly to Carrion and Frost. They were standing close together, and they stood in the same pose and moved in the same ways, like brother and sister. As though they had more in common with each other than they could ever have with anyone else. Silence knew he’d have to keep an eye on that. He couldn’t risk losing Frost the way he’d lost Carrion.

  “Any trace of the alien crew?” he asked the pair.

  “None,” said Frost. “And their ship’s dead. It’s an interesting ship. The technology’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  Silence looked at Carrion. “Could the crew have fled into the forest?”

  “No, Captain. I’d have known.”

  “And that just leaves the Base,” said Ripper. “Surprise, surprise.”

  “Tell me about the ship’s technology,” said Silence. “You said something earlier about a new kind of hyperdrive.”

  “There was extensive use of living tissue alongside mechanical,” said Frost. “Essentially, the ship was one great cybernetic unit, incredibly complex. And if the hyperdrive is what we think it is, it’s far beyond anything the Empire has.”

  There was a tense pause, as though they all had something to say but no one wanted to be the first to say it. There were certain things it was wise never to say aloud, particularly when an Empire AI was listening. Their loyalty was programmed into them, and they tended to have very strict ideas about what constituted treason, or a threat to the Empire’s security. Silence looked thoughtfully at Carrion.

  “The aliens must be inside the Base.”

  “Agreed, Captain.”

  “And you’re going to get us through the force screen.”

  “No, Captain.”

  Silence stared at him, and the tension between the two men all but crackled on the air. The two marines moved their hands slightly so that they were both covering the traitor with their guns.

  “I can break through the screen,” said Carrion, “but you’re in no condition to enter the Base.”

  “I’d have to agree,” said Frost. “A Captain has no business exposing himself to unnecessary risks. That’s standard procedure.”

  “There’s nothing standard about this mission,” said Silence tightly. “I’m in charge here, and I’ll make whatever decisions have to be made. To do that I need to be there, on the spot, as and when conditions change. And I’ve a feeling they could change pretty damned fast once we get inside the Base. I’m fit enough, and that’s all that matters. I’m sure the marines are more than capable of seeing that nothing happens to me.”

  “Right,” growled Stasiak, looking pointedly at Carrion. The outlaw ignored him. He looked over at Base Thirteen, hidden behind its shimmering opalescent screen, and if there was any expression in his face, none of them could read it.

  “Let’s go,” he said calmly. “The sooner we begin, the sooner we’ll be finished. And God have mercy on those who die here.”

  He started off towards the Base, and after a moment, Silence and Frost followed him. The others brought up the rear. Stasiak looked at Ripper.

  “Cheerful bastard, isn’t he?”

  “What did you expect?” said Ripper. “He used to be an Investigator.”

  They stood together before Base Thirteen, and the glowing pearly screen stared back at them, mute and enigmatic. Silence studied it sourly. It was as though the screen were mocking him. Anything could be happening behind that impenetrable field of energy. Anything at all. Anyone else would have had to suffer its smug indifference, but he had an ace up his sleeve. He had Carrion. Silence looked at the outlaw. He was still standing beside Frost, so close their shoulders touched. They looked as though they should always be together, connected by a shared past and secrets too terrible to reveal to anyone else. Silence felt oddly jealous. Carrion used to be his friend. But that was years ago, when they were different people, and Silence was honest enough to admit that he would only have felt uncomfortable if Carrion had chosen to stand with him.

  The marines were standing off a little to one side, their guns in their hands, keeping an unobtrusive eye on Carrion. To their way of thinking, he was the biggest threat to the party at this point, so they’d watch him till something better came along. Marines were great ones for sticking to the problem at hand, and letting officers worry about the future. The esper was ignoring them all and scowling at the screen, as though she could force her esp past it to see what lay beyond. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that powerful. That was why Silence needed Carrion.

  He looked at the outlaw, and sighed quietly to himself. He couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time for the moment of truth, and let the chips fall where they may. He activated his comm implant.

  “Odin, you are now in control of the pinnace. You will follow our entry into the Base through our eyes, and keep a complete record of all that occurs. If we fail in our mission, and none of us survive, you will make every effort to return to the Darkwind, and see that the record is made available to our successors. Acknowledge.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain. Good luck.”

  Silence looked at Carrion. “It’s time. Do your stuff.”

  The outlaw nodded, his gaze fixed on the force screen. He stepped forward and reached out a hand to touch the energy field. Fat sparks of static sputtered on the air, but there was no other response. Which was interesting. It should have killed him stone-dead. It would have killed anyone else. Carrion pressed hard against the scree
n, but it didn’t give. He smiled slightly, as though he’d expected that, and stepped back. He lifted his power lance and pressed the end of it against the energy field. A faint corona circled the end of the staff where it touched the screen. Carrion increased the pressure, and the screen gave way before it. Carrion took hold of the staff with both hands, and walked slowly forward into the energy field. The force field whorled and rippled around him, bands of iridescent light breaking over him in waves. He stood deep in the field, and the screen that could ward off disrupters and withstand atomics drew reluctantly back from the outlaw’s presence. An opening grew around him, through which the dark, squat shape of Base Thirteen could be seen. Carrion looked back at the others, and there was something not entirely human in his eyes.

  “Now,” said Carrion, and they all stepped forward as though he had them on a leash. Silence kept his head up, but his skin crawled in anticipation of the lethal energies running through the force screen, held back only by the power of one man’s mind. By someone perhaps no longer entirely human. Finally they were all through, and Carrion remained in the field. He looked unhurriedly about him, colors waterfalling down around him in vivid shades that burned the eye. And then he stepped forward, and the energy field closed behind him as though it had never opened. No one could get out, and no one could get in to help, without Carrion’s assistance. They were trapped with whatever lay inside Base Thirteen, and the force screen covered them all.

  “How did you do that?” asked Diana, her voice softened by something that might have been awe.

  “His power lance,” said Frost, when it became clear the outlaw wasn’t going to answer. “It amplifies and channels his psychokinesis. You can guess why the Empire banned them. But even with a power lance, what he just did is supposed to be impossible. His esper abilities must be right off the scale. I’m surprised the Empire ever let him run around loose.”

  “Before he came to Unseeli,” said Silence, “he showed no sign of any esp at all. His time with the Ashrai changed that.”

  “That’s impossible,” said Frost flatly. “Everyone’s tested for psi; no one escapes.”

  “Nothing’s impossible, for the Ashrai,” said Carrion.

  “Your attention, please,” said Odin, his voice murmuring through everyone’s implants. “Captain, I’ve finally been able to glean something useful from the Base computers’ records. I’ve managed to isolate the Base Commander’s personal log. I really think you should view what I’ve found, before you proceed any further.”

  “All right,” said Silence. “Since nothing nasty has come running out of the Base to attack us, I think we can safely wait a few more moments before we go in. Marines, stand guard. If anything moves, shoot it. Odin, run the relevant parts of the log for everyone except the marines, then run it for them. How much is there?”

  “Not much, Captain. I’ve selected what appear to be the important moments.”

  A wavering zigzag pattern met Silence’s eyes as the AI ran the log through his comm implant. The image cleared to show the Base Commander sitting at his desk. Silence frowned. He knew the man. James Starblood had been at the Fleet Academy in the same year as he. Old Family. Not much money, but well connected. They’d known each other well for a short time but had never really been friends. Starblood had been a hard-working, efficient officer, and about as imaginative as a stone. Which probably explainedwhat he was doing in a post like this. Unseeli was not a posting for the upwardly mobile. Silence’s frown deepened. The Commander looked haggard and confused, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough and unsteady.

  “To whoever finds this log, this is an Alpha Red emergency. An alien ship has crash-landed nearby. It doesn’t answer any of our attempts to make contact. I sent a team to investigate the crash site. They never came back. That was three hours ago. Now people are disappearing inside the Base. Something’s affecting the computers. Whole sectors don’t answer. The life-support systems are breaking down. The lights are going out. It’s getting cold. There’s something in here with us but we can’t find it.”

  The scene changed. Starblood was sitting slumped in his chair. He was sweating, and his uniform was dishevelled. He passed a shaking hand across his mouth, and tried visibly to pull himself together. “I can’t raise anyone in the Base, and something’s happened to our main comm system. I can’t contact the Empire, or even broadcast a warning. My personal log seems secure, for the moment. I’ve locked myself in my quarters and barricaded the door. I can hear something moving in the corridor outside. It doesn’t sound human. I’m trapped in here. Base Thirteen is lost to the Empire. There’s only one option left to me: raising the force screen.”

  He reached out of view for a moment, and then looked up again, his eyes seeming to pierce Silence. There was despair in the man’s face, but something else too. Something that might have been dignity. “The force screen is now activated. Whatever’s in here is trapped inside the Base. I can’t risk letting it escape. The Empire must know of this new threat. The screen can only be lowered from inside now, using my personal code. I know my duty.” He drew a disrupter from the holster on his hip, and clumsily checked the power level. “Haven’t had to use one of these things in years,”he grumbled quietly, and then turned the gun on himself, centering it carefully over his heart. He looked up one last time.

  “Whoever finds this message, avenge us. Protect the Empire. I am James Starblood, Commander of Base Thirteen.”

  Silence’s vision cleared to show the world again. He wished he’d liked the man more.

  “That’s all there is, Captain,” said Odin quietly.

  “A hundred and twenty-seven people,” said Diana. “All dead.”

  “You didn’t really expect anything else, did you?” said Frost. Diana shrugged and looked away. There was a pause as the marines watched the message.

  “Well, that was interesting,” said Stasiak brightly. “We’re facing something powerful enough to wipe out a whole Base, and all we’ve got are a few handguns and an outlaw esper. Why don’t we all just shoot ourselves now, and get it over with?”

  “He’s got a point,” said Ripper.

  “Shut up,” said Frost calmly, and the two marines were immediately quiet. “You’ve nothing to worry about. You’ve got me.” She looked at Silence. “You’re in charge, Captain. What do we do?”

  “We go in,” said Silence. “And we do whatever’s necessary.”

  He walked towards the entrance, with Carrion and Frost following close behind. The esper hurried to catch up. The marines shared a meaningful glance, and reluctantly brought up the rear. The Base itself looked calm and deserted. No lights were showing anywhere. The front doors were standing just a little ajar. Silence stopped before them and studied the steel doors carefully. There was a thick layering of hoarfrost on the metal, and the doors hung limply from their supports. Carrion reached out and pushed one door, and it moved uneasily under his touch, all power gone. He pushed it all the way open, and he and Silence stepped forward into the gloomy of the lobby.

  Unseeli’s cold had entered the Base, giving the stale air a cutting edge. None of the lights were working, and as far as Silence could see, the lobby was entirely deserted. Carrion and Frost moved quickly in to stand on either side of him, eyes searching the shadows for an ambush. All was still and quiet, the only sound their own breathing. Frost sniffed suspiciously, her gun in her hand as though it belonged there. Carrion leaned elegantly on his power lance, apparently happy for Silence to take the initiative. The esper darted through the front doors with the marines close behind. Silence gestured for the two marines to spread out, and they did so quickly and professionally. The esper looked round the empty lobby and hugged herself, possibly from the cold.

  The Reception desk was unmanned, its Security monitor screens blank. Papers lay scattered across the desk, covered with a thin layer of frost. Silence gestured for the two marines to check the desk, and they moved forward, guns at the ready. Investigator Frost looked unhurried
ly about her, trying to get the feel of the place. There was no sign of any panic or fight. Everything seemed to be still in its place. At the desk, Stasiak studied the scattered papers without touching them. They were all routine, everyday stuff, and Stasiak thought there was something sad in that. The people who worked here got no warning, no chance to prepare themselves. They probably thought it was just another day, until the boom fell, and the lights started going out. He looked at Ripper, who was trying to get the Security monitors back on line, with no success. He straightened up with a sigh, looked at Silence, and shook his head.

  “Not a thing, Captain. There’s power in the system somewhere, but it’s not reaching Reception. I think it’s being diverted somewhere else, but don’t ask me where.”

  “Not a damn thing to go on,” said Stasiak. “It’s as though everyone just … got up and left. Spooky.”

  “Look around; see if you can turn up some lamps or torches,” said Silence. “We’re not going to get far without some light. Investigator, try the comm net. Maybe we can raise someone now that we’re actually inside the Base.”

  Frost nodded, and activated her comm implant. “This is Investigator Frosts of the Darkwind. Please respond.”

  They all listened, but there was only the low hum of an open channel.

  “Can anybody hear me? This is Investigator Frost. I speak for the Empire. Respond, please.”

  She frowned suddenly as a voice murmured in her ear, so soft and faint the words were indecipherable. Frost looked quickly at the others, but though they’d all heard it too, none of them could make it out either. Frost boosted the volume as high as it would go, but the voice had stopped.

  “I hear you,” she said loudly. “Please say again. Where are you? Do you require assistance?”