Endurance: The Complete Series Page 16

  Even Viktor cracked a smile at that. This news was better than he’d hoped. His old job at Org Crime couldn’t compare to serving on the first ship sent out to explore the galaxy. And this way he didn’t have to move. “We will be ready, sir.”

  “Good.” Captain Withers headed past him toward the bridge, walking with a new spring in his step. “Let’s get to it!”

  Chris and Matthias went the opposite way, toward the reactor room, and Chris began another rant. “If we’re going out into space, I need to give everyone a list of things to watch out for.”

  “How do you know what’s out there?”

  “I’ve watched enough science fiction. First, there’s going to be a planet-sized death machine somewhere in the galaxy, so we have to prepare for that. We’ll also probably encounter evil clones of ourselves at some point, so I’ll have to make up a code to determine which of us is the real us. There’ll be a couple dozen alien species that live in the Stone Age, so we should make sure the whole crew learns hand-to-hand combat. And I’m still not convinced that this isn’t an attempt to give us over to the Haxozin, so I think we should set up a security system …” They passed out of earshot.

  Areva came fully around the corner and smiled up at Viktor. “Good news.”

  “Yes, it is. Though I wonder how long it will last.”

  She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “At some point, we will no doubt annoy Dispatch again. Eventually they will not need us to do this. They will re-assign us to our old patrol, where we will be out of their way.”

  “You’re such a downer. We can at least enjoy it while it lasts.”

  “True.”

  Areva looked at the now-closed airlock, behind which Viktor could picture the Dispatch headquarters building rising up in Median City. “Too bad about the other job. I know you would’ve liked to work in Org Crime again.”

  Viktor smiled. “Yes. Too bad. But there is nothing to be done about it.” He headed down the corridor. “We should prepare the ship for departure, but later this evening, I know of a nice restaurant in Median that I would like to visit before we leave Earth. Would you care to join me?”

  “Just for dinner? Sure. Sounds fun.”

  Too bad indeed.

  * * *

  Book Three

  Under Cover

  Death looked different on every person. Areva had seen it enough times to start noticing. Cassius the assassin had died just before he could murder another victim. He’d died cold, dispassionate, without any hint of emotion. His corpse didn’t look much different than when he was alive. The four Haxozin soldiers had worn helmets that hid their faces, but they had each died in the middle of combat. They had died intent, focused. They hadn’t even seen it coming.

  The person Areva killed before that had died sad. Sad and afraid.

  But that was a long time ago.

  Areva shook herself out of her reverie and watched as the end of the funeral procession passed by her hiding spot. She didn’t know the dead person. She didn’t know how they’d died. To be honest, she didn’t even know what species they were.

  The aliens had six long, spidery limbs, four of which they used for walking, while two served as the equivalent of arms. They were taller than humans, though not quite as tall as the People of Tone, and from what Areva had heard, their language consisted of a lot of low-pitched hums.

  She’d only been on this planet for a day, which was nowhere near enough time to learn an alien race’s customs or recognize their most solemn rites. But Areva was a trained detective, and she knew a funeral when she saw one. The solemn expressions. The hunched postures. The way others moved out of the way to let them pass.

  Oh, the body being carried by the four people leading the group was also a giveaway.

  From her position behind a mountain of raked leaves, she watched the aliens round a wooden building and head toward the center of town. She reached a hand up to her ear, tapped her intercom interface, and whispered, “Sergeant Fish, the procession is heading in your direction.”

  Sergeant Chris Fish took a moment before he responded over the open channel. “I’m out of sight. They’ll never know I’m here.”

  Another voice spoke up, this one female. “Chris, I can see your hand hanging onto that branch.”

  “What, this one?”

  “Stop waving! You’re going to attract their attention!”

  “Joyce, I’m on the other side of the tree from the road. There’s no way they can see me.”

  Joyce huffed over the channel. “Move your hand anyway. You can never tell who’s watching.”

  “Mmm,” said Chris, “I like it when you’re paranoid.”

  “Um, excuse me.” Sergeant Ramirez, the fourth member of the surveillance team, spoke over the intercom. “I, uh, I think I see the funeral coming. Are they the ones, you know, carrying the dead guy?”

  “Yes,” answered Areva.

  “Okay. Then yeah. I, er, I see them.”

  “And as I told you, they didn’t see me,” said Chris.

  “Hey! Surveillance team! Cut the chatter unless it’s relevant!” While the four team members had kept their voices quiet, Captain Withers’s voice came through at a normal volume. Areva instinctively covered her earpiece, though the aliens couldn’t possibly have heard it.

  “Yes, sir,” she answered. The other three gave similar responses.

  The conversation died as the four-person team observed the end of the procession. Areva took a deep breath as the last alien rounded the corner away from her. “Well, we know they honor their dead,” she whispered.

  “Maybe,” said Chris. “We can’t be sure they’re not taking him off to eat him or something.”

  “Honestly, Chris,” Joyce said. “Nobody carries a meal with that much solemnity.”

  “You’ve, uh, obviously never had dinner at my, er, my mother-in-law’s house.” Ramirez chuckled uncomfortably as his joke fell flat.

  “I’m just saying,” said Chris. “Let’s not make any assumptions. For all we know that guy was still alive, and they’re going to …”

  The channel crackled as Captain Withers interrupted again. “Sergeant Fish, knock it off. You’re trying to see if it’s safe to make contact with them, not write a horror story.”

  The line went silent for a moment, then Chris muttered, “Sorry, Captain.”

  The captain didn’t bother to acknowledge that. “Any indication of what’s causing those energy readings?” The alien city’s pre-industrial society seemed on par with the other civilizations on the planet, but the captain had chosen this area for observation because of some heat readings that indicated they possessed more advanced technology. Like nuclear reactor-level technology.

  So far, Areva hadn’t seen any sign of it. “No, sir.”

  “From what I’ve seen,” said Chris, “they don’t even have the facilities to build that sort of thing. If they do have a reactor, somebody else probably gave it to them.”

  The captain grunted. “Hopefully it’s not the somebodies we’ve already met. Have any of you seen any indication of Haxozin activity?”

  “No,” said Areva. The three other members of the surveillance team chimed in with similar replies.

  “That’s good, at least,” said Withers. “If these people do have contact with another advanced species, hopefully they’re friendly, and the spider aliens can put us in touch with them. We’ll give it another day or so before revealing ourselves, just in case. For now, make your way back to the ship. By my count, you’ve been out for ten hours. I don’t want anyone slipping up and getting caught because they were tired.”

  Three replies of “yes, sir,” sounded over the channel. Areva added her own before she slunk back to the nearby wall and waited for an opportunity to hop back over it. Once on the other side, she had a clear line of hedges she could use to sneak her way back to the UELE Endurance without the locals spotting her.

  She waited as a pair of the spider-legged aliens str
olled past, humming at each other, and then hopped over the wall and dove under the hedge. She army-crawled her way forward, pausing every so often to listen for anyone approaching, but she’d picked her stakeout spot carefully. No one even noticed her presence.

  The alien city had been built in a natural clearing in one of the planet’s dense forests. The hedge led Areva to within a few meters of the tree line. She made sure no one was looking, then darted out from her hiding place and sprinted into the forest. The thick foliage obscured her sight of the city within seconds.

  Once safely secluded among the trees, Areva unfolded her pocket computer and used its navigation system to make her way to the rendezvous point where she would meet the rest of her team. She stepped carefully through the terrain, keeping to rocks and solid ground where possible to avoid leaving a trail. She didn’t know if these people were trackers, but it was best to be safe.

  She spotted the rendezvous—a large banyan-type tree—and tucked herself behind a cluster of bushes to observe. Her p-gun rested in its holster, and she kept her hand on it as she listened to the wind and a nearby river and some bird that made a noise not unlike the laugh of a currently popular late-night comedian. She glanced upward and spotted the bird circling overhead. It had a purple tail with luminescent streaks, and its head was shaped like a pineapple. She wrinkled her nose and refocused on the ground level. Alien worlds were weird.

  Within a few moments, she heard brisk footsteps approaching from the city. Then she heard a thud as the person tripped and muttered “aw, crap.” She recognized the voice of Sergeant Ramirez.

  The young officer himself came into view near the banyan tree a few seconds later. He looked around with wide eyes. “H-hello? Am I the first one here?”

  Areva whistled softly, but Ramirez didn’t hear her.

  “Aw, crap,” he said again. “I hate moments like this …”

  “Ramirez!” she whispered.

  He jumped and whirled in her direction. “Who said that? Lieutenant? Is that you?”

  She raised her hand above the level of the brush and waved. “Yes. Get behind some cover.”

  “Why? There’s nobody here. R-right?” He looked around nervously.

  “I don’t know, but do it just in case.”

  “Y-yes ma’am.”

  The young man hid himself on the other side of the tree, taking up a position so that he could see any areas that Areva wasn’t already covering. That was part of why she’d picked him for this team—he knew how to form a perimeter, even if he did get jumpy.

  They waited another five minutes or so before Ramirez broke the silence. “A-are Chris and Joyce back yet?”

  “No. Be quiet. This isn’t the intercom; people can hear us.”

  “But you said there’s nobody here.”

  “I don’t think there is.”

  “Why is everybody on our ship so paranoid?”

  Areva didn’t answer that question. Sure, Chris Fish was paranoid out of his mind, but her cautious nature was simply logical. If the enemy never saw you, you always had the upper hand.

  “A-are you still there?”

  Speaking of paranoid. “Yes.”

  Ramirez heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. I thought you left.”

  “Where would I go?”

  “I don’t know, but …”

  The sound of footsteps pounding on gravel reached Areva’s ears, and she whispered, “Shh!” Ramirez fell silent, and Areva waited, hand on gun, and watched the clearing. A few moments later, Chris and Joyce Fish sprinted into sight, both panting. Chris took a look around. “They’re not here,” he gasped. He leaned over and putting his hands on his knees.

  “Stand up straight!” Joyce said. “We have to keep moving!”

  “And go where? We can’t lead them back to the ship!”

  Areva’s heart started pounding. Someone had seen them.

  “I don’t know, maybe we can lose them in the woods!” Joyce looked fearfully over her shoulder.

  “We’re scientists, sweetie. We’re not athletes. They’re already gaining, and I’ve got a stitch in my side the size of Area 51.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  “What, that they’re gaining?”

  “No, that it’s the size of Area 51. That place is huge.”

  “So is my pain level right now.” Chris groaned. “They’re going to catch us, so we might as well let it happen now rather than later.”

  Areva drew her gun, hoping Ramirez knew enough to do the same. She wanted to radio Captain Withers for input, but feared attracting the notice of whoever pursued the two scientists.

  Of course she couldn’t shoot the aliens; that would not be a good way to make friends with them. Maybe she could scare them off with some suppressive fire, assuming it was just two or three aliens who’d accidentally spotted the intruders and followed them out here. Her team could then escape to the ship and let the captain figure out what to do next.

  She was about to signal Chris and Joyce to let them know her plan when not two, not three, but no less than twelve spider-people burst out of the foliage into the small clearing and surrounded the Fishes, who both went rigid with fear and put their hands in the air. The aliens wore green uniforms that identified them as some sort of law enforcement, and they carried little pointy weapons that sparked on the ends—probably stun guns. So much for them being completely pre-industrial.

  Shit, Areva thought, ducking further behind the plants. So much for a small patrol, too.

  She thought again of distraction fire, but rejected the plan immediately as too risky. With this many armed soldiers, she was more likely to draw their attention to herself than to get them to run away. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal her presence.

  She watched as they did a pat-down on Chris and Joyce, grimacing when they found the box that translated between alien languages and English. Chris protested as they relieved him of it. “Hey, wait, we need that to …”

  The aliens didn’t even look at him as he spoke. Instead they inspected the talky box itself.

  Joyce nudged her husband. “They can’t understand us. We didn’t find a computer to download their language files yet.”

  “We didn’t find a computer at all,” Chris said. “And now they’re going to haul us away and eat us.”

  “They’re not going to eat us.”

  “I appreciate your optimism, dear. It’s a bright spot in this gloomy situation.”

  The aliens finished whatever they were doing with the box, apparently deemed it not-dangerous, and placed it in a clear bag, along with both officers’ guns, pocket computers, and everything else carried with them. Then they shoved them back toward the city.

  Ramirez’s voice crackled in Areva’s earpiece. “Shouldn’t we rescue them?”

  Areva shook her head, though she knew nobody would see. “Too risky. Quiet.”

  “But they’re taking them away!”

  “I’ll follow.”

  “What will I do?”

  “Be quiet.”

  The group of spider aliens herded Joyce and Chris out of the clearing and back down the path toward the city. Once the last of them disappeared from sight, Areva began moving through the bushes, trailing them. Fortunately, the tall spider aliens’ heads stuck out above the brush. They stayed on the path for about a quarter mile, but just as the city’s stone buildings came into view through the tree line, they veered off on a different track, heading toward a small hill on the outskirts. Areva followed.

  With the foliage thinning, she could maintain a greater distance and still see her targets, so she hung back until she was sure no one could hear her. She was about to tap her intercom interface and report the situation to the captain when something moved in the bushes behind her. She whirled and crouched in a combat-ready stance, aiming her gun at the sound.

  Ramirez appeared from behind a plant that looked like a begonia. When he saw the gun, he jumped and fell straight back onto his rear. “Whoa! Don’t shoot!
”

  Areva holstered the gun and ducked even further down. “Quiet, Sergeant!”

  His face turned red. “Sorry. But you almost shot me!”

  Areva turned back around to see if the aliens had heard, and discovered that the group with Chris and Joyce had nearly reached toward the hill. Atop the hill sat a large, forbidding stone structure that looked very much like a prison.

  “We can’t let them get there,” she whispered, half to herself and half to Ramirez. She looked back to where he’d fallen and saw … nothing. The sergeant had vanished.

  Areva crouched lower and drew her gun back out, starting to feel like she was playing with it like a yo-yo. “Ramirez?” she whispered.

  No answer.

  When Areva turned around again to check on the captive team members’ progress toward the prison, she found herself facing the crackling energy of an alien stun gun.

  She froze, her gun pointed uselessly at the ground. The alien behind the stun gun glared down at her with his gigantic spider eyes and gestured for her to drop her weapon.

  There’s only one, she thought. I could shoot him.

  No, she answered herself just as quickly. He’s looking.

  She dropped the gun, raised her hands, and hoped Chris was wrong about the aliens eating them. She knew that when she returned to the ship she’d have to write a report about her decision to surrender. She’d put down that she didn’t want to antagonize the aliens when the Endurance’s overall goal was to make friends with them. “I don’t shoot people who can see me” wouldn’t go over as well.

  * * *

  Areva’s captor brought her to the building on the hill. The building itself turned out to be not so much a building as a fortress—a rectangle of two-meter thick stone walls surrounding a dirt courtyard. The road led them through a thick metal door in the southern wall that clanged shut behind them with frightening finality.

  The eastern wall extended into the courtyard and formed a square building, and it was into this building that the spider alien brought Areva. They passed a security checkpoint where the spider dropped off her gun, intercom interface, and equipment belt, and then he continued herding her through a short hallway.