In Earth's Service (Mapped Space Book 2) (12 page)

“Stellar core engineering, wormhole stabilization,
several quantum mechanical field solutions and certain forms of stellar communications.”

Considering mankind didn’t use this exotic stuff
and couldn’t do any of the things she’d mentioned, I was left with a sinking
feeling. “What’s the communications range?”

“Transgalactic,” she said slowly, exactly what a
spy needed to spill the beans on Tau Cetin activities to a bunch of malevolent
Intruders plotting their destruction in the Minacious Cluster.

“Humans don’t have that kind of technology,” I
said, “so if someone on Earth wanted to call long distance, they’d need help doing
it.”

“They would,” she agreed.

Was that what the alien-tech hemisphere on the
Merak
Star
was for? “What would a transgalactic communicator look like?”

Meta and Jesorl fell silent while another
discussion excluding me took place. “Any size,” she said at last, “any shape, depending
on the degree of miniaturization.”

It was the proverbial how long was a piece of
cosmic string. “Who knows how to make all this stuff?”

“Many mid level civilizations have the capability.”

“How many?”

“Thousands.”

“That narrows it down,” I said bitterly, well
aware that the Drakes could be dealing with any of them, swapping alien-tech
contraband for Nazari’s weapons.

“The energy requirements for exotic matter based
technologies are very high,” she added, “considerably above your current generating
capabilities.”

Sorvino’s aleph-null warning was now ringing loudly
in my ears. The Tau Cetins had suspected Izin of espionage, because he was
descended from Intruders, but they’d missed the most obvious answer. The spies
might not be tamphs at all, but humans! There were plenty of scum sucking
lowlifes rotten enough to be working with the Brotherhood and their alien-tech
suppliers, people who’d sell out all of Human Civilization for a mountain of
credits no matter what the consequences.

Whoever they were, I had to find them fast before this
whole dirty business blew up in mankind’s face.

* * * *

Jesorl left Meta and I alone for several
hours. She wouldn’t comment on how Izin’s interrogation was proceeding, leaving
me to pace anxiously while she kept me company in silence. When night fell, the
forest became immersed in a misty darkness broken only by the distant lights of
neighboring estates. Occasionally, other members of the household appeared,
glanced at me curiously, then withdrew when our eyes met. Eventually, Jesorl returned
late in Ansara’s thirty hour day, greeting me with a short burst of avian
chatter.

“Intermediary Jesorl says Izin Nilva Kren’s questioning
is complete,” Meta announced.

My heart pounded in my chest. “And?”

“He has not been in contact with the Intruder
Civilization.”

I knew he was innocent, but I breathed a visible
sigh of relief anyway. “So he’s free to go?”

“He is being returned to your ship as we speak.”

“What about the exotic matter container?”

“We have decided to keep it.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“There was no deal, Ambassador.”

“But it’s mine.”

“Technically you stole it, negating any lawful
ownership right, whereas we have the authority to retain it for further
analysis and as evidence in any future Forum Inquiry.” She hesitated, perhaps
asking permission to speak further. “There is another reason why this material
should remain with us.”

“I’m listening.”

“Whoever produced it would be able to detect it
aboard your ship. That could pose a danger to you.”

I hadn’t thought of that. The last thing I needed was
a glowing sign over my head warning some teched up alien spy I was onto them. “Consider
it a loan, but I may want it back some day.”

“We make no promises,” she replied. “We are
however prepared to transport you and your ship to Earth should you wish to make
an immediate report to your Earth Council.”

“No thanks.” Whatever was going on, the answer lay
out here a thousand light years from Earth. Anya and Nazari had mentioned
meeting at a place called Loport. The only Loport I knew of was far enough off
the space lanes that it made an ideal spot for shady deals beyond the reach of Earth’s
long arm.

“If you intend to continue your investigations in
this region,” she said, reading my expression with unnerving precision, “Intermediary
Jesorl requests you provide him with a report when you have finished.”

“Sure thing,” I said, deciding it was better to
work with the Tau Cetins than trying to freeze them out, although they’d only
get a cut down version of what I sent Lena Voss. “Tell him Earth will deal
harshly with anyone working against our mutual interests.”

Jesorl considered my assurance before answering. “You
are entitled to resolve matters relating to tamphs or humans internally,
Ambassador. However, the extent to which other species are adversely affected
by members of Human Civilization will determine the scale of our intervention.”

It was an ominous warning and there’d be no
getting around it. If there were traitors in our midst, if humans or tamphs had
betrayed the Tau Cetins, it would go very badly for us. “I understand.”

“Any action you take on behalf of your government
to mitigate the situation will, of course, be given due consideration by the
Forum.”

It wasn’t much, but it was a ray of hope. I considered
telling Jesorl any humans or tamphs involved in betraying the Alliance Fleet were
dead men walking, but I figured he’d interpret that as my primitive need for
revenge, so I tried to sound ambassadorial instead. “I can assure you, Earth
will meet all its Treaty obligations in full.”

“If that is true, then we are indeed on the same
side of the galactic fence,” Meta said.

Now that I was leaving, I realized she was only
minutes away from being reprocessed. It seemed a harsh end to such a short
existence. “I hope you’ll still be around if I ever get back this way.”

“Anthropomorphizing me again, Ambassador?” She
smiled with simulated human amusement.

“Call me a sentimental primate.”

“Intermediary Jesorl has decided that considering
how rapidly your species is expanding, he will need a permanent liaison for
future human contact.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, genuinely relieved. “I
guess that means you owe your continued existence to humans.”

“Goodbye, Ambassador,” she said with no sign of
appreciation.

I took the elevator up to the landing platform. A
small TC transport was parked on one side, the twin of the craft that had
carried us out to the medical station. Jase and Izin had already exited and were
about to board the
Silver Lining
.

“Izin!” I said. “Good to see you in one piece!”

“Thank you, Captain,” he replied, “but the Tau
Cetins did not dismember me.”

“They might as well have!” Jase snapped, “Keeping
you hanging up there like a lab rat!”

Izin glanced at Jase. “It was not an experience I
care to repeat, but thank you for being there.”

“Hey, we’re shipmates!”

Izin considered Jase’s reply, as if seeing him in
a new light. “Indeed we are.”

Whether Jase knew it or not, Izin had his back
from now on in a way he never had before, the same way he had mine – the way I
had both of theirs.

“What did it feel like?” I asked.

“I was a bystander, aware but powerless, reminded
of every memory I ever had … It was a remarkably irritating experience.”

“Well, let’s get out of here before they change
their minds,” I said as we headed up into the ship.

When Jase and I reached the flight deck, a synthesized
TC voice sounded from the intercom. “Prepare for relocation to interstellar
space.” The belly door sealed shut without any action from us, then the wraparound
screen filled with white noise.

“This is one place I’m in no hurry to come back
to,” Jase said as we took our positions on the acceleration couches, waiting to
get back control of the ship.

“It’s a beautiful planet.”

“If you like trees,” he said sourly. “The best thing
down there was the android.”

“They’re keeping her intact.”

Jase gave me an intrigued look. “Hmm … I wonder how
good a simulation she is?”

“I’m sure she’s perfect in every way.”

He looked thoughtful. “I guess I could do worse.”

The screen flickered to life revealing we were back
where we started and the TC tow ship was already gone.

“Not ones for chit chat, are they?” Jase said.

“They chatter a lot, just not with us.”

“So did you get what we came for?”

“More than I wanted,” I replied grimly, entering our
destination into the autonav.

“Captain,” Izin’s voice sounded from the intercom,
“I’m detecting the same magnetic anomaly we saw on Novo Pantanal.”

I glanced at Jase. “Anything?”

He checked the sensors and shook his head. “There’s
nothing out there.”

“It’s approaching the port airlock, Captain,” Izin
said. “They mean to board us!”

Would an Intruder ship risk revealing itself so
close to Ansara? I guessed it depended on how badly they wanted us. I
considered hailing the Tau Cetins for help, but if they had no ship nearby, it
would be hours before our signal reached the nearest prism orbital. And if
Intruder spy ships were as sneaky as Jesorl had implied, the TC system defenses
might not even see it once it locked onto us.

“Pull sensors!” I ordered, pushing the maneuvering
engines to their maximum inertially shielded acceleration. Thirty-five g’s was
nothing for a ship with TC level tech, but we only needed a few seconds to button
up. I rolled the
Lining
hard away to starboard, hoping our engine blast
caught the prowler by surprise.

“Go!” Jase said the moment our delicate sensors
were safely stowed.

I released the autonav, praying we weren’t about to
get a nasty surprise. A moment later, the bubble formed and the screen filled with
telemetry confirming we were superluminal.

“How’s it tracking us?” Jase asked.

No signal could penetrate a bubble’s quantum
distortions. That’s why we always flew blind when we were superluminal. As far
as I knew, no one – not even the TCs – had a way around it. It made tracking
another ship through interstellar space a physical impossibility, yet somehow,
Izin’s magnetic anomaly had followed us from Novo Pantanal.

“Izin,” I said over the intercom, “check every
system diagnostic we have from Novo Pantanal to now.”

“What am I looking for, Captain?”

“That bastard’s tracking us. I want to know how.
You’ve got ten days before our next stop.” I exchanged wary looks with Jase.
“If I’m right, they’ll be there waiting for us.”

Union Mandated Colony

Lornat System, Outer Draco

1.43 Earth Normal Gravity

939 light years from Sol

58,000 humans

Moments after we unbubbled
half a million clicks out from Hardfall, eight long range surface batteries began
tracking us. The speed with which they had us target locked and the size of the
energy spikes emanating from the planet warned that we weren’t facing a bunch
of half trained farm boys. It wasn’t the reception I was expecting from a tiny
colony on a dying world.

“No one here but us,” Jase reported after a quick
review of the sensors.

“Izin, are you picking up that magnetic anomaly?”

“Not yet, Captain,” Izin replied from engineering.
After a week and a half reviewing every system log in the ship, he’d found no
clue as to how we were being tracked.

“Give them the transponder,” I said, eager to land
before we had company.

If the grunts on the ground didn’t like the look
of us, we’d never know it. Any flash from the surface batteries would reach us
the same moment the blast did, giving us no time to run. Being only eight light
years from the Acheron Abyss dark nebula, a known Drake hot spot, I couldn’t
blame them if they were a bit twitchy. Hardfall was a Union colony so they
rated some protection, but the firepower aimed at us looked more like it
belonged guarding a military base than a bunch of dirt-loving freeholders.

A cluster of threat indicators appeared on screen over
the southern hemisphere, marking the space gun’s location on the planet’s only
substantial land mass, a super continent known locally as Prairieland. It
stretched from the southern pole to the northern tropics, occupying a third of
Hardfall’s surface area, with the remainder taken up by receding oceans and isolated
island chains. Large river valleys snaked from towering mountains in the east,
across vast plains to the desolate west coast, although only the great rivers
of the south still held water. Their northern cousins were now dry and barren
scars across a once fertile land.

The decline was due to Hardfall’s dying star which
grew imperceptibly in luminosity each century, slowly transforming the planet
into a hot, dry wasteland. It was why Hardfall’s previous inhabitants had
abandoned the planet long before humans had arrived. Now only the crumbling
ruins of a great megacity sprawling unbroken along Prairieland’s vast northern
coast remained as a monument to their faded glory. The equatorial city had
flourished when the tropics had been dominated by lush rainforests and monsoonal
rains, neither of which had been seen on Hardfall for thousands of years. In
their place, baking desert had consumed the northern lands, turning to arid plains
at the mid latitudes and rolling grasslands in the far south.

After Hardfall’s original rulers had departed, the
planet’s predatory wildlife reclaimed what was left in a desperate fight for
survival that triggered one last evolutionary gasp of adaptation. As the northern
grasslands dwindled and competition increased, the hunters grew in ferocity and
size while the hunted become tough, armored creatures ready to trample any
attacker. Land that had once been frozen tundra became the last grasslands
Hardfall would ever know, drawing the dwindling herds of bone-plated herbivores
south, followed by the fiercest predators that had ever walked the planet’s
surface.

It was then that humans arrived.

They found the predatory wildlife so aggressive
that they were forced to live in fortified communities atop defensible plateaus,
veritable island fortresses amid an ocean of hostile land. While their weaponry
could defeat any single animal, they couldn’t defeat them all, especially not
at night. Every attempt to set up farms on the banks of the surviving southern rivers
had ended in disaster.

More pervasive than the dangers of the lowlands
was the high gravity. The colonists had endured broken bones and fatal falls for
three generations before the Union had provided genetic enhancements that turned
the colonists into a stocky, thick boned offshoot of mankind. It was partly the
gravity that gave Hardfall its name and partly a salute to the first colony
ship, the
Dahlia
, which had landed hard and never flew again.

Hardfall was one of the few defended locations
close to the Acheron, inhabited by people adapted to their environment, yet
with no chance of surviving their dying star. It was the lot of mankind –
latecomers to the galaxy – to pick up what no-one else wanted and make
something of it. Watching the brown-blue planet floating on the screen, I felt
a twinge of regret that it wasn’t a few billion years younger, but then it
wouldn’t have been abandoned and we wouldn’t have a colony there now if it were.

“Silver Lining,” a woman’s voice sounded from the
flight deck communicator, “proceed to Hiport. Our guide beam is enabled. Do not
vary your flight path or activate your weapons. Shields are permitted for
atmospheric insertion. Be advised you are entering Union controlled space and
will be fired upon if you deviate from these instructions. Acknowledge.”

My listener told me her accent was East Euro
descended, not a native of Earth or Hardfall, but from Ardenus, a large Core
System world a hundred and forty two light years from Earth. Ardenus had been
colonized by the Democratic Union centuries before the Embargo and had resumed
a loose affiliation with the Union after contact had been restored a thousand
years later. Both Earth Navy and the Union Regular Army recruited from there,
but as neither stationed unmodified humans on high gravity worlds, her presence
here was somewhat surprising.

“I don’t suppose she’ll let us land at Loport?”
Jase asked.

“She wants us under those big guns in case we’re
not who we say we are.”

Four of the colony’s surface batteries had direct
line of sight to the Hiport Landing Zone, while Loport had only one battery and
it covered the approaches, not the landing field itself.

“Hardfall control, acknowledged,” I replied, then
followed the guide beam down.

The approach path kept us squarely in the firing envelopes
of all eight batteries, making sure we did exactly as we were told. A thousand
clicks out, we began passing over outlying plateaus that had been leveled and
sealed off from the plains by the colony’s engineers. They were all covered in
rows of tightly packed green houses, providing the colony with its only source
of agricultural produce. Homesteader families operated them, guarded by sheer
cliffs and linked to the main settlement by air. Some had armored ground
vehicles strong enough to withstand attacks from the larger predators, but the
distances were great and vehicle hoists were expensive.

After dropping through a cloudless blue sky, Hardfall
Colony came into view. It comprised one large mountaintop city known as
Citadel, a smaller flattened plateau called Hadley’s Retreat and two landing
grounds perched atop leveled ridges, Hiport, which was almost as high as
Citadel, and Loport, which rose barely above the plains. They were joined by heavy
cables supporting capsule-shaped transport pods that shuttled passengers and
cargo between them, safely out of reach of the dangers below.

Since the colonists arrival over a hundred and
sixty years ago, every natural path to the mesa tops had been destroyed,
ensuring the only way up was by air, internal elevator or aboard one of the massive
vehicle cranes that reached out over the cliffs. The cranes had been brought in
by the Union in an effort to make access to the plains easier, but old habits
die hard. Most colonists still preferred flying to riding, even though their multi-wheeled
vehicles were armored and mounted automatic weapons.

Citadel was perched on a flattened mountain top
surrounded by sheer cliffs. We passed to the north of it, riding our thrusters
down to Hiport, tracked all the way by dome-shaped turrets that looked like
they’d still be firing long after the city had been reduced to a molten slag
heap.

“No wonder the Drakes steer clear of this place,”
Jase said, suitably impressed.

“They look new.” Considering Hardfall exported
nothing of value and had gravity high enough to discourage migration, someone
must have had good political connections to convince the Union to invest so
heavily in the colony’s defense.

“What’s that on the ground?” Jase asked, motioning
toward a large rectangular cage between Hadley’s and Citadel. Inside the cage was
a four legged creature the size of a small elephant. It was covered in
shingle-like bone plates, had a massive angular head and a thick stump where its
horn had been sawn off.

“They call them tankosaurs.”

“I can see why.”

“It’s a harmless herbivore,” I said, “unless you
make it mad.”

“What happens if you make it mad?”

“It’ll disembowel you with its horn and trample
your body into mush.”

“Why’s it in the cage?”

I hadn’t been to Hardfall in years, but seeing the
tankosaur staked out like that told me when it came to this, little had
changed.

“It’s a bait trap.”

Jase gave me a curious look. “That thing’s bait?
For what?”

“Dinner. There’s no farming on the plains but
there’s plenty of meat, if you can kill it before it kills you. There are gun
platforms set into the cliffs to shoot whatever takes the bait. It’s good
training for the local militia and it helps feed the colony.”

Dark blood stains surrounded the bait trap from decades
of slaughter while a well worn track led back to the foot of the cliffs. Above
the track was a giant crane, used to lower the armored recovery vehicles to the
plain and hoist the catch up to the city.

We flew over the bait trap, then began our descent
onto Hiport’s flattened crest. The summit was long and narrow, only wide enough
for ships to berth side by side. A group of small aircraft were parked near the
spaceport building at the southern end, close to a cable car station linking
Hiport and Citadel. A small orbital transport and an old intersystem ferry,
both overdue for the scrap heap, were parked north of the aircraft. When the
guide beam finally dropped and the spaceport’s crude docking system took over,
we were ordered to land north of the old ferry, then the Approach Controller’s
voice gave us the obligatory warnings.

“Hardfall is a Union Mandated Colony subject to
all Earth Council directives. As such, Access Treaty violations are punishable
by death. Should you choose to go onto the flatlands, the colonial government
accepts no responsibility for your safety and will not mount rescue missions. Freelance
hunters will assist you for a price, providing you pay in advance using a valid
Earth Bank vault key. Be advised, conventional side arms with less than Union Regular
Army level seven armor piercing projectiles are ineffective against some indigenous
species. The people of Hardfall welcome you to the colony and hope you enjoy
your stay.”

URA level seven? My P-50, even with hardtips, was
only L5.

“Friendly bunch,” Jase said. “I don’t suppose
there’s much night life here?”

“If there is, I’m sure you’ll find it. Just
remember, if you fall down drunk, the gravity’s going to hurt.” His initial
eagerness wavered, then I added. “Finish the shutdown and you’ll see what I mean.”

When he killed the ship’s inertial field, we sank
into our acceleration couches. “Ooh, that is kind of heavy,” he said lifting
his arms, testing the planet’s pull.

Humans normally didn’t settle worlds with gravity
more than ten percent above Earth normal. Hardfall was an exception, but only
because the first colonists didn’t have the option of moving on.

“Plus forty three percent,” I said. “Not enough to
put you in g-braces, just in hospital if you stub your toe. And remember, the
woman are genetically engineered.”

“So they’re what? … Stronger than me?” A curious
look crossed his face as he wondered what it might be like to be dominated by a
Hardfall woman.

“Increased bone density, muscle mass, enlarged
heart, improved lung efficiency and reduced body height,” I said.

“Oh, so it’s a planet of dwarves? Izin will fit
right in!”

Izin’s synthesized voice immediately sounded from
the intercom. “I’ll have you know, I’m considered tall for my kind.”

I leaned towards the intercom. “How are you finding
the gravity?”

“Mildly unpleasant, Captain.”

“Better get used to it, there are no powered walkways
here,” I said, easing myself onto the deck and testing my weight.
Ultra-reflexed or not, I’d have to be careful in Hardfall’s gravity. “And cover
up, I don’t want you spooking the locals.”

“Considering the creatures humans hunt on this
planet,” Izin said, “they’re unlikely to be frightened by my appearance.”

“I don’t know,” I said, feigning uncertainty,
“tamphs are a lot scarier than fleshrippers.”

“I find that comment strangely gratifying.”

Jase gave me a wary look. “Fleshrippers?”

“Piranha with legs,” I said with a grin, then went
to prepare to reconnoiter Loport.

Now that we were here, I was wracked with doubt.
Had I guessed wrong? Was there another Loport? Last time I’d been here, Hardfall
had been a toothless backwater. Now it was a fortress with fangs. So how did a
gun runner and a Drake raider expect to land under the noses of Hardfall’s
space guns without getting blown to bits?

Why would they even try?

* * * *

The Skylink terminal at the southern tip of
Hiport plateau was a simple white building beneath a massive cable support
tower. We bought three tickets from an automated vendor, walked up a metal ramp
and caught the next southbound capsule to Citadel. It was an eight kilometer
journey along a gently sagging polysteel cable through still air to the
colony’s only city. Far below, armored herbivores appearing no larger than
black dots grazed dry grassland in scattered groups.