Colin Kapp - The Ion War Page 6

  CHAPTER IX

  As he read the faces around the table, Liam knew the session would be difficult. Their expressions of hope and resolution were a cold comfort to him: the real message had not hit home.

  Sinter Pauls, Liam's executive chief, motioned him into a chair which faced the examining semicircle.

  "Liam, I think you know everyone here. We've been through your report on Sette most carefully. In the main we agree with your findings and your conclusions, and it amplifies and confirms several areas of rumour we'd hitherto been unable to pin down. It also provides a plausible explanation for the sudden collapse of the defences of Rigon in the later stages."

  "But?" asked Liam Liam.

  "But from the standpoint of known physics, what you saw on Sette is an utter impossibility. There's no scientific basis for these 'ghost' commandos. In fact, had the observations not been the result of your own personal experience, we couldn't have given the report much credence."

  "Which is why Sette fell," said Liam patiently. "Because nobody would give credence to the rumours surrounding the last days of Rigon . Because you don't have a theory which fits, doesn't mean the phenomenon doesn't exist. It may just mean you are short on theories, you understand?"

  Sinter Pauls shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

  "Point taken, Liam! And this time we have moved. We've established a clearing house for any intelligence which appears relevant. And the Security Council has voted virtually unlimited funds for research as soon as we know what line the work should take. But in the absence of a suitable theory, we can't do much about developing a defence. Therefore we want you to set up an intelligence network which will give us something to get to work on."

  Liam shook his head sadly. "Our enemy is time, you understand? Assuming they only bring their ghost squad to clear the hard core of a planetary defence, how many Hub worlds are you prepared to lose before you consider you've information enough? On your own admission, you don't even know where to start. I saw the proficiency of the Terrans. If I could obtain all the information you needed tomorrow, they would still have a ten year lead."

  "Then what's your answer, Liam?"

  "Total commitment on all levels by all Hub territories. Sabotage, espionage, infiltration of their base facility on Terra, and any form of armed intervention including outright war."

  "There's no chance of that," said Sinter Pauls. "Very few Hub worlds are going to be prepared to show their hands at this stage, lest they go to the top of the Terran extermination list. In any case, I doubt the necessity to go to these lengths."

  "Sinter€”if twelve ghosts could destroy Sette, how many more would they need to destroy the rest of the hub? About fifty is all, you understand?"

  The caudal of Di was a trail of fragmented rocks and space detritus trapped between the gravitational fields of the planet Halcyon and its satellite Di. Such was the counterbalance of forces that these rocks were strung out as a trailing retinue which followed Di like a tail, hence the name caudal. The Terran ship-chain, if it bothered to observe the caudal at all, would have been unaware of the presence of a small addition to the fragments of the tail, so well was the Starbucket disguised for its latest role of simulating a lump of inert rock.

  Inside the Z-ship, however, the situation was anything but inert. With virtually unlimited funds placed at his disposal, Liam had had the Starbucket extensively refitted, and its electronic surveillance equipment was now the most comprehensive and sensitive that Hub technology could provide. The Z-ship was currently operating sixteen data links with stations on Halcyon, using laser beam widths of only two microns diameter, theoretically indetectable to the Terran warforce in orbit around the stricken planet.

  Like a spider, Liam Liam sat in the centre of his web, considering the constant stream of reports from his monitoring operators, and issuing fresh instructions with a rapidity which showed he had both a well-informed and an intuitive grasp of the situation.

  Euken Tor, at his elbow, was assisting in maintaining the smooth flow of information and ensuring that every fragment of data was recorded in the computers for later analysis.

  Even in the period of relative quiescence the Z-ship had continuously monitored the battle below and the exact functions of the ships in orbit. Now, as the little ship that Liam presumed to contain the ghost commandos moved out of orbit, every single piece of information it was possible to gain about it was meticulously collected, and the computer had begun to worry-away at the data. It deduced, surprisingly, the fact that the ship was remarkably heavy for its size and drive capabilities. This tallied with the information that it had been brought into Halcyon's orbit inside an immense mother-ship; presumably it was too specialized to have tachyon space capability of its own.

  Watching its descent on his screens, Liam decided that the little ship's shields, impregnable thought they were, could not have accounted for more than a quarter of the unexplained weight. It was a reasonable supposition that whatever transformed its commandos into ghosts was immensely heavy and had a high power requirement.

  Liam turned his attention then to the transmissions from Halcyon itself. As with Sette, the target area had been established in advance, but, forewarned, the Halcyon command had withdrawn the personnel from their fortification, leaving an automatic defence post peppered with Liam's special cameras and sensors and with the heart of its nuclear powerplant ready to run super-critical on Liam's signal.

  By careful planning, Liam was this time fortunate in obtaining a view of the actual touch-down of the 'ghost wagon'€”as it was nicknamed€”and this immediately confirmed the vessel's unprecedented weight. The whole area was under severe space-bombardment, which was playing havoc with Liam's sensors and communications, but luck stayed with him in the form of a long-range camera which stayed obediently trained on the ghost-wagon's main hatch.

  When the phantom warriors began to appear they came not as a group but at precise intervals, as though each had to go through a specific preparatory sequence. As each ghost emerged, he ran straight to some pre-determined position and from Liam's point of view seemed to pass straight through the ship's own electronic shields without the slightest sign of difficulty. This same ease of penetration was also apparent when they came to pass without pause through the Benedict field around the Halcyon fortification.

  The automatic defence system functioned well, even though it was ineffectual against its insubstantial attackers. Its function was not so much to deter the attack as to conceal the fact that the installation was unmanned until the phantom warriors had actually penetrated into the fortified complex. In this respect its success was complete, and the commandos were well inside before they realized that the post was both unmanned and that they were under electronic observation. When the point became obvious, they cast about uncertainly, looking for reasons to explain such a strange circumstance. It was not long before they were engaged on a deliberate hunt for all of Liam's cameras, spectrometers and other equipment, which they destroyed as they went. However, by this time all the information the instruments could produce was already in the Star-bucket's data banks, and the rapid savagery with which the ghosts had destroyed the prying electronic sensors made very little difference to the success of Liam's enterprise. There was only one experiment left to be performed, and with the memory of Jon Rakel firmly in his mind, Liam felt no compunction as he triggered the installation's nuclear powerplant into super-criticality.

  The technicians on Halcyon had done their job well. When the powerplant blew it formed an inefficient bomb, but it was a bomb nonetheless. Through the long-range camera set on a distant hill, the watchers in the Starbucket saw the whole fortified installation rise with a slow, fragmenting majesty which soon obscured itself from view by producing an ascending cloud of smoke and dust. When the scene finally became clear again, the whole area appeared to have been levelled, and the ghost wagon, if it still existed, must have been deeply buried under tons of radioactive dust.

  "That was dedicated
to the memory of Sette, you understand?" said Liam, with only the slightest trace of satisfaction.

  "You want out now?" asked Euken Tor.

  "Not for a little. I want to see if they go looking for survivors."

  "Survivors?" Eukon was astonished. "Down there?"

  "I know it seems unlikely. But it will be significant if they even bother to look, you understand?" By now they were monitoring the consternation which the loss of the ghost-wagon had caused in the orbiting fleet, and were recording every ciphered message for later cryptographic analysis. The most immediate response was for the mother ship to disgorge a sister vessel to the one which had been lost. This sped out of orbit on a trajectory similar to that taken by the first ship, and it was deducible that a search for survivors was indeed about to take place. The descending ship was travelling completely without shields, and Euken looked at Liam enquiringly as if to ask permission to take it out of space with one of the major weapons with which theZ-ship was plentifully supplied. Liam Liam shook his head.

  "It's more important that we see what they do when they make planetfall. If there actually are survivors, that fact alone could tell us much."

  "Liam!" One of the technicians monitoring the Terran orbiting warforce was calling urgently for attention. "I think they've rumbled that the nature of the exercise must have been to transmit the data to a pickup in space. They're looking for us."

  "Could they detect us in the caudal?"

  "If they're dedicated enough to search each piece of rock separately, they'll find us."

  "Then I think they'll soon achieve that degree of dedication. Euken, take us out of here."

  "Noted and undestood, Skipper!"

  Euken had their escape trajectory already planned and continuously updated by the computer. As the flare of their engines betrayed their presence to the seeking ship-chain, so the Starbucket swung up behind the cover of Di's tail and streaked for the protection of the mass of the satellite itself. Having gained this temporary protection, it turned abruptly and headed away for deep-space taking care to keep Di's bulk between itself and the ships now angrily breaking orbit for pursuit. It was a brilliant piece of manoeuvering, and though the surrounding space became brilliant with the explosions of exotic missiles, the Starbucket fled well within the narrowing cone of sanctuary provided by the rock-mass of the moon.

  Aware of the implications, the Terrans put a hellburner down on Di and vapourized it virtually instantaneously. However, before the hellish plasma of the explosion could clear, the Z-ship had already achieved tachyon-space entry velocity; and with a ship full of priceless data and analyses about the ghostly commandos, they jumped straight into the relative safety of the strange fields of inverse space.

  CHAPTER X

  The system of call-names was a record of a malicious, destructive humour, primarily allocated by Absolute. Dam, who had never encountered such a tyrannical and vicious female, was both frightened and fascinated by the pattern of hatred and disdain revealed by her sadistic choices. He wondered how much of this was due to twists in her own personality, and how much was actually innate in the female psyche, to be revealed only in situations where, as with this female tormentress, their power over the condition of others was truly absolute.

  It was on his first day that Dam met the character he knew only as Fiendish. The name seemed apt for the wild colonial figure with the shock of unkempt hair naturally curled in the tightest ringlets and eyes which appeared to stare constantly with a mad fascination. Absolute had left Dam in the interview room, and Fiendish, who appeared to be some sort of advanced trainee, had come to rescue him and guide him into the strange rigors of the routine.

  Removing Dam's handcuffs, he offered Dam a hand for shaking harder and more muscular than any the major had before encountered.

  "The call-name's Fiendish. Welcome to the legion of the damned! Did she give you a call-name yet?"

  "She called me Lover," said Dam, a little shamefacedly.

  Fiendish whistled with surprise.

  "That's not good! She's singled you out for some reason or another. And she's an absolute bitch at the best of times."

  "Is she insane?" asked Dam.

  Fiendish's face became speculative. "Let me give you some advice. Don't try and judge Absolute until you know her capabilities. When you've found out what they do here and how tough it is to do, you might finish with a different idea of Absolute. I know I did."

  Accommodation was in separate rooms connected by a corridor, in a long, low building at one edge of the compound. The rooms were rather in the nature of cells, except that the doors were locked only at night. Each cell was furnished with a bed, chair, writing desk, wash-basin, locker, and an audiovisual teaching machine. Fiendish had a room near to that allocated to Dam, and giving the newcomer a short while to get his bearings, he came back and sat on the bed for a chat.

  "Shut me up if you don't want to hear this," he said, "but there are three ways you can take what's coming to you here: you can fight it, you can suffer it, or you can go out and meet it. If you fight it, they'll kill you. If you suffer it, they'll let you suffer, but I doubt if you'll survive. It's easiest if you embrace it and try to conquer it. That's the way the system's designed€”to eliminate the weak in mind and body. Only the strongest ever make the grade."

  "Whose side are you on?" asked Dam directly.

  Fiendish took the question levelly. "My own, since you ask."

  "You're a colonial," said Dam. "You realize that a Terran commando force is likely to be used in engagements against the Hub territories€”possibly even against your own world?"

  "That's part of what I meant by strength of mind. There's no way you can beat the system. You either survive within its framework, or you don't survive. Unless you're dedicated to survival, you'd have been better advised to opt for execution in the first place, because this exercise includes some remarkably painful ways of dying."

  "So you advise collaboration?"

  "The only thing that buoys me is the thought that one day I'm going to find a way to beat these bastards. And that's the day which will make all the rest worth while. But there's a point you've not yet thought of. They give you a teaching machine so you can brush up on the theory. Use it. You're going to get the chance to get an insight into a pretty rare brand of scientific warfare. If you ever do get back home again, think how useful that knowledge could be to some of the planets round the Hub.".

  "Assuming there are any left," said Dam sourly. "But thanks for the viewpoint. I'll bear it in mind."

  Having thus given Dam something to think about, Fiendish seemed disinclined to talk further, and left. Dam examined the teaching machine and found the mathematical and technological material in the lecture magazines was of surprisingly high level, though well within the scope of the work he had already done. He found a stiff work program already laid out for him, and while part of his mind considered the implications of Fiendish's viewpoint, he began to work his way steadily through the first day's work-set. The lesson contained nothing he did not know, but the bias was interesting; and it was the promise of scientific revelations to come which began to dispose him seriously to consider the wild colonial's advice.

  "Pain," said Absolute, in the first practical session, "has an evolutionary association with survival. The twin pressures of inheritance and later conditioning render it a factor to be instinctively avoided. For you, this is unfortunate. One of the features of the transition into and out of the para-ion state is that the process is acutely painful. Yet you must learn to make that transition without the slightest hesitation."

  Stripped to the waist, and with his legs hobbled by iron bands and a short chain, Dam waited with apprehension. The other four newcomers, similarly restricted, stood quaking alongside. Dam could judge the extent of their fear from the sounds of their breathing.

  "Which means," said Absolute, "that our primary sessions are concentrated on teaching you to unlearn your instinctive reactions to pain. We have a se
ries of exercises designed to assist you in enduring pain levels within the range of normal human tolerance. To spur your dedication to the unlearning task, the guards have electrical goads which can range well beyond the tolerance threshold. Don't think we'll hesitate to use them."

  Absolute was obviously enjoying her mastery, and she inspecter her new squad of trainees with scathing anticipation.

  "You're over-rated, Half-man. I've seen starving rats in better shape. And Worm, better we bury you again€”and soon. Creep, you've the texture and appeal of a plucked chicken. And I think the same sort of life expectancy. As for Neuter€”God in Heaven! Do they expect me to make commandos out of this mess of festering sub-humanity? Compost would be easier. The process is already half begun."

  She stopped when she came to Dam. The strength of his muscles rivalled the strength in his face, and the tan of Castalia's summers had barely faded to bronze.

  "And of course, my Lover. There has to be a joker in every pack. You're not afraid of me yet, are you, Lover? Well, you've already called me an absolute bitch, so I'll promise not to disappoint you."

  "If it makes you feel better," said Dam mildly.

  For a moment their eyes clashed, and Dam prepared himself for a blow, but she conquered her feelings and turned to face them all.

  "Something else I will mention. This is a tough induction, and a crucial one. Statistically, twenty percent of those starting the exercise don't make it to the end. So we'll simplify the issue for you. The one who makes the lowest grade on the exercises won't be alive by morning . Let that be an incentive to reach superlative heights."