Deathstalker Rebellion (49 page)

The pinnace hovered high overhead, far enough away not to intimidate any of the locals, but still close enough to come charging in for an emergency rescue if necessary. Silence was getting tired fast. Even with the hard suit’s servomechanisms to help, the constant struggle to stay upright while pressing on was exhausting. According to his suit’s instruments, the local temperature was high enough to melt some metals. He was sweating like a pig despite everything the hard suit’s temperature controls could do, and the lack of a proper horizon made his head hurt. He was so taken up with his own inner world of hurts and confusions that he only just noticed in time that Frost had come to a halt. He avoided crashing into her through a heroic last-minute effort, and then had to fight to keep his feet under him. He took a few deep breaths to settle himself and then looked around. The place they’d arrived at didn’t seem noticeably any different from any of the others they’d plowed through to get here. There was no sign of any of the alien constructs, just a large hill to their left, slumping over like a melting ice cream.

“Is this it?” he said finally.

“In so far as there is an it, yes,” said Frost. “These are the right coordinates, anyway. You know, this place is really disgusting. It looks like someone sneezed it into being.”

Silence winced. “You’ve always had a way with words, Investigator. Now what do we do?”

“Now we wait for someone to put in an appearance.
Which, knowing this place, will undoubtedly take some time. Maybe we should have brought a bucket and spade.”

And then she broke off as the mud before them bubbled up into a thick dribbling pillar, like a slow-motion fountain. Silence and Frost both trained their suits’ disrupters on the pillar as it bulged and contracted here and there, finally forming into a human shape, complete in every detail, including clothes. Though the clothes were made of the same mud as the body. The figure actually looked quite snappy in formal evening wear, and for a moment Silence felt almost overdressed in his hard suit. He made himself concentrate on the figure’s face. It was gray and sweated driblets of mud, but the features were indisputably human. The eyes focused on Silence and then on Frost, and the mouth twitched in a smile.

“Before you ask,” the figure said briskly, “no, I don’t really look like this. You are looking at a mental projection, formed from handy nearby materials. Trust me, you don’t want to see what I really look like. Not unless you’re into projectile vomiting, which I would assume could get really messy inside one of those suits. Human senses are too limited to appreciate my true beauty.” He folded his dripping arms across his sliding chest and gave them a moment to think about that. “Now, what do you people want this time? I’m busy. And don’t ask me what at; you couldn’t possibly hope to understand.”

“If you’re this planet’s idea of a diplomat, I’d hate to meet your politicians,” said Silence. “How is it you speak our language so well?”

“I don’t. I’m communicating directly with your mind, which is slumming for me, but we all have to make sacrifices if we’re to keep the gods happy. Little joke there, to put you at your ease.”

“You’re telepathic?” said Frost. “That wasn’t in the files.”

“Nothing so primitive. We are communicating directly, though your human minds are too limited to pick up most of what I’m transmitting.” The figure stopped and frowned. “Though I have to say, you seem much more receptive than most.”

“Save the compliments,” said Frost. “We’re here on business.”

“Well, I didn’t think you were tourists,” snapped the man made out of mud. “What does the Empire want this time?”

“Rebels and aliens; don’t talk to them,” said Frost briskly. “If anyone tries, contact your nearest Imperial spy satellite. Any alliances with unauthorized forces will result in severe punitive measures.”

“And what might those be?” said the mud man. “Going to arrest us, perhaps? Not unless you can build prisons in five dimensions. Or perhaps you’ll take away some of our lovely mud? Help yourselves; we’ve got tons of the bloody stuff.”

Frost raised her right hand and triggered the disrupter built into her glove. The energy beam flashed out and vaporized the mud man’s head. Silence started to object and then stopped himself. He didn’t approve of unnecessary killing, but this was the Investigator’s show. She was best qualified to decide what was necessary to get her point across. The mud man should have been more respectful, damn it. An insult to them was an insult to the Empress. And then he realized the headless body hadn’t slumped to the ground. It stood just where it had, as though nothing had happened. Liquid mud bubbled in the stump of the neck, and then rose up suddenly to form itself into a new head. The same face quickly appeared, and the mud man glared at Frost.

“I see Imperial diplomacy hasn’t changed much since its last visit. Plus seven points for brutality, minus several thousand for severe lack of cool. Never mind barbarians at the gate, they’ve already taken over. Just once, I wish they’d send us a representative slightly higher up the food chain. I’ve had more interesting conversations with a piece of moss. You humans should be bloody grateful my species is physically linked to the planet’s ecosystem. If we could leave this world, we’d be running the Empire inside a week.”

“But you can’t, and you don’t,” said Frost. “So remember what I told you. No talking to any strange men or aliens, or we’ll work out some way to give you all a good spanking. Right. That’s it, we’re going. Have fun playing with your mud.”

“I don’t see any need for sexual slanders,” said the mud man. “Please feel free to leave our world anytime. Goodbye.”

Silence started to turn to leave, and then stopped as he realized Frost hadn’t moved. He couldn’t see her face inside her helmet, but he knew she was staring thoughtfully at the figure made out of mud. He could feel it. The link between
them seemed suddenly very strong, and he knew without having to be told what was running through her mind. She wanted to see the real alien; the real shape and being that lay behind the image of the mud man. The reality behind the mask.

“Cut it out, Frost,” he said quietly. “We don’t need to know.”

“He doesn’t respect us,” said the Investigator. “He doesn’t fear us. I want to know why.”

“Listen to your partner,” said the mud man. “You really don’t want to do this. This image is all you’re capable of understanding. The reality of what I and my kind are would destroy your limited minds.” He stopped abruptly and frowned at Frost. “What are you doing? Your mind is … uncoiling. There’s more to you than there was before. You’re not human. What are you?”

Frost stared back at him, her brows furrowed as she concentrated, reaching inside herself for a strength and vision she hadn’t realized she possessed. There was something more beyond the mud man, something bigger, vaster … The sheer size of it made her head ache, but she wouldn’t look away. It was deep down in the mud, under the surface of the world, and it was rising slowly out of the depths toward her. It had length and width and breadth and other dimensions, too. And perhaps just to look on it with merely human eyes would be enough to turn her to stone, like a butterfly caught in Medusa’s gaze, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t, look away. She had to see, had to know … Silence grabbed her by the shoulders of her hard suit, spun her around, and shook her as hard as he could.

“Don’t look at it! I can see what you’re seeing, and it’s dangerous. We’re not ready to look at something like this. Just the sight of it would burn the eyes out of our heads and blast our reason. Look away, Investigator! That’s an order!”

He reached out with his mind, not quite knowing how he was doing what he was doing, and slowly forced Frost’s inner eye shut. The image of what lay beyond and below the mud man was suddenly gone, and the heightened link between Silence and Frost shrank back to its normal background murmur. They were both back in their own heads again and saw only what was in front of them. Frost shuddered suddenly.

“Thank you, Captain. I got … lost for a while there.”

“Let’s get out of here, Frost. We’ve given them their instructions. Anything else is none of our business.”

“We can’t let them run us off. They have to know who’s in charge here.”

“I have an uneasy feeling they already know,” said Silence. “Let’s go.”

Back on the bridge of the
Dauntless
, Silence was jerked out of his memories by the quiet but insistent voice of his Communications Officer, Eden Cross. He’d turned around at his workstation to look at Silence, who blinked at him a couple of times, and then tried to look alert and awake, as though he’d been listening to Cross all along. It only took him a moment to realize he wasn’t fooling anyone, and he relaxed with a smile. He was lucky it was Cross. Cross was a good man.

“Sorry,” said Silence. “I was light-years away. Run that past me again.”

“There appears to be a situation belowdecks, Captain,” said Cross. There was no trace of a smile on his dark face, but his eyes were understanding. “Not long ago, strange noises were heard coming from inside Security Officer Stelmach’s private quarters. Some of his people went to investigate and discovered Stelmach systematically wrecking his quarters. They inquired diplomatically as to what the problem might be, and he threw things at them. They have currently retreated just out of range, and are awaiting further instructions. He is their boss, after all. And technically speaking, only yourself as Captain and Investigator Frost are senior enough to restrain a Security Officer.”

Silence looked at Frost beside him, and she raised an eyebrow. Stelmach had a tendency to get excited in emergencies, but usually on board ship he was cool and calm, and followed every regulation to the letter. There were those who said he didn’t authorize his own bowel movements without checking the regulations first. Something serious must have happened to destroy Stelmach’s composure.

“We’d better go and take a look. Investigator,” said Silence. “He is in charge of the ship’s security, after all. If he’s discovered something that upsetting, I think I want to know about it, too.”

Frost nodded calmly. “We have been out on the Rim a
long time. People have been known to crack, so far from ***light and life and civilization.”

“Not Stelmach,” said Silence. “It’d take more than a case of cabin fever to crack him.” Silence got to his feet. “Second in Command, you have the bridge. Investigator, follow me. But keep your hands away from your weapons. I want Stelmach conscious and able to answer questions.”

“Spoilsport,” said Frost.

They left the bridge and took the express elevator down to the officers’ quarters. They could tell when they were getting near. There were people milling in the corridors, including those from the last shift, woken by the sound of Stelmach’s voice, shouting and swearing incoherently. Silence politely but firmly sent them back to their beds, assuring them he’d take care of everything. Frost hurried them on their way with an occasional glare. Finally the two of them rounded a corner to find half a dozen security men huddled together at the end of a corridor. They jumped half out of their skins when Silence addressed them from behind, and then relaxed a little from sheer relief when they saw who it was. They even looked glad to see the Investigator, which was probably a first.

There was a quick discussion among the six of them as to who was in charge, and then that one was pushed forward by the others. He started to explain what had happened, realized he hadn’t saluted, tried to do that and apologize at the same time, and then started explaining all over again. The sound of something large but fragile smashing into hundreds of pieces came clearly from the open door to Stelmach’s quarters, followed by more incoherent swearing. The security man swallowed hard and started again.

“Lieutenant Zhang reporting, sir. Security Officer Stelmach appears to be … unwell. We have attempted to ascertain what the problem might be, but he has declined to talk to us, and besides, he has a gun. Perhaps you would care to have a word with him, Captain. I’m sure he’d listen to you, and the Investigator.”

“At ease, Lieutenant,” said Silence. “We’ll handle things from here. You and your people fall back out of sight around the corner. It might be your presence that’s upsetting him so much. See that this corridor is blocked off at both ends; I don’t want anyone else coming in here while we’re talking
to Stelmach. And, Lieutenant, we are not to be interrupted for anything less than a major emergency.”

Zhang nodded quickly, gathered up the rest of his people with his eyes, and led them in a hurried but dignified retreat back around the corner. In his quarters, Stelmach was still shouting and breaking things. Silence admired the man’s stamina. He’d had a few blind rages himself in his drinking days, and he knew from experience that rages were hard work to keep going. He turned to Frost, and then frowned at her.

“I said no guns, Investigator.”

“He has one, Captain.”

“But he hasn’t used it yet. Let’s not put any ideas into his head.” He glared at Frost until she holstered her gun again, and then looked back down the corridor. Things had grown ominously quiet. “Is Stelmach a drinker, do you know? I haven’t heard anything, but someone in his position would be under a lot of strain, and in a good position to get his hands on all kinds of booze, legal or otherwise.”

“Or worse,” said Frost. “He’d also have access to all kinds of drugs for use in his interrogations. Plus whatever illicit drugs his people might have discovered and confiscated. There’s always something going around. There’s nothing in his files about substance abuse of any kind, but he had access to the files. I can’t say I know the man well. Not many do. Security Officer isn’t a post to make you popular with people.”

“But do they respect him?”

“Oh, I should think so. The fact that no one’s rolled a fragmentation grenade into his room while he was sleeping is a pretty good sign the crew respects his authority. And that his people are on their toes.”

Silence and Frost moved slowly and quietly down the empty corridor, stopping just short of the open door to Stelmach’s quarters. Silence gestured to the Investigator, and they both placed their backs against the bulkhead wall next to the door. Technically speaking, all Silence had to do was show himself and order Stelmach to calm down and explain himself. The Security Officer would do this immediately or face a court-martial for insubordination. In practice, Silence had a strong feeling he might end up doing more ducking than talking. Assuming Stelmach really did have a gun. According to regulations, the use of energy weapons on board
ship was strictly forbidden, except under the direst circumstances. On the other hand, Stelmach was the
Dauntless
’s Security Officer, and if he wanted a gun there weren’t many people on the ship with the authority to say no. Silence always carried a gun, as did the Investigator. They were required to do so, partly in case of situations like this. But in all his time as Captain, Silence had never drawn a gun on a member of his own crew, and he wasn’t about to start now. And to hell with what the regulations said. It was still quiet in Stelmach’s quarters. Silence raised his voice, keeping it calm and even and very assured.