Alien Wars Page 5

Jick’s face drained of color. His shoulders slumped. Finally, he pushed away, heading for his cubicle.

  Feeling guilty for lying but resolved to make Jick stop harassing her, Darcy returned to her controls. She measured the snowball, its volume, weight, and percentages of frozen water. They had performed an analysis while braking, but there were always subtle variations. Small robots scurried over the surface, taking samples.

  For the sleeping, psi-watching Klane, time passed with a dreamer’s speed.

  Perhaps two hours later ship-time, Darcy sat up. She scowled and bent forward. With several taps of her long fingers, she ran a diagnostics on the sensors. They reacted smoothly, without fault.

  This was odd. According to the sensors, a metal object lay buried in the ice.

  On his pallet aboard the Attack Talon in Pulsar’s upper atmosphere, Klane groaned in his sleep. Deep in his subconscious, an iota of intelligence knew great excitement.

  What is that? Klane asked.

  The alien iota muffled its excitement and lowered its mental radiation. Perhaps as camouflage, it heightened Klane’s awareness of the farseeing.

  In the ice hauler, Darcy donned a vacc-suit. She should wait for others. Hauler customs and Kresh laws were strict on spacewalking alone. She knew that, but decided to check this while Jick sulked in his cubicle. It was conceivable he might enter the command module while she was out and discover her disobedience. Darcy decided to risk it anyway. Something about the metal object in the snowball seemed to call to her.

  With the vacc-suit sealed and oxygen cycling, Darcy entered the tiny airlock. Atmosphere hissed away, and the outer hatch opened with a clack.

  She should have latched a line to the door bolt. Darcy broke more spacer customs and plain common sense. Instead of hooking a safety line, she settled a thruster pack onto her shoulders.

  The sun looked small from here, far away in the center of the star system. None of the planets registered on her regular vision. The only one that might have was giant Pulsar, and it was on the opposite side of the sun.

  Darcy sighed. The sun, the stars, the emptiness of space affected her. She had wanted to be a mother many years ago. Now, she didn’t know. The Kresh were harsh taskmasters. They laid down strict rules for the spacers. Did she want to bring a child into that?

  No. She wanted serenity, ease, and to be left alone. Lately, even that had begun to pale. Surely, there was more to existence than luxury. Many spacers lived like Jick, indulging their appetites. Why not? Life was hard and then you died. She wanted a reason for existence. Who will remember Darcy Foxe, senior aboard Ice Hauler 266-9?

  Maybe that’s why she’d donned a vacc-suit and now traveled alone across the snowball. With expert control, she jetted hydrogen particles from her pack. Behind her, Hauler 266-9 rested on the asteroid. The vessel was oval with extra engines attached to the hull, along with other equipment.

  The journey to this icy rock had taken almost two years. It would be another two before the asteroid reached Pulsar.

  Darcy jetted over the curve of the small planetoid so the hauler disappeared behind the horizon. She watched the helmet’s HUD. A beep sounded in her headphones and a black dot appeared on the interior screen.

  Rotating so her back faced her direction of travel, she squeezed thrust from her pack, slowing her velocity. Finally, barely drifting above the surface, she unhooked an anchor rifle. She aimed, fired a metal hook, and reeled herself onto the snowball’s surface.

  A smile curved onto her long face. She walked on an asteroid, bounced really. With smooth practice, she glided to a crevice. There, she climbed down thirty meters into the asteroid.

  Unhooking a flashlight, she clicked it on and peered at the frozen substance. Was that a metal object back there? She couldn’t tell.

  Her heart raced and her lips had become chapped. What did she look at? She didn’t know why, but the feeling came to her that this was incredibly ancient.

  Is it alien?

  By that, she didn’t mean Kresh. They weren’t aliens, but the masters, the Revered Ones.

  Demons, Klane thought to himself as he psi-observed Darcy. He, too, knew excitement, and this time he sensed the foreign intelligence buried deep in his subconscious. Even in his sleep, he strove to uncover its identity.

  The thing slithered free of his psi-senses, burrowing deeper, out of perception.

  I will uncover this mystery, Klane promised himself. First, he yearned to know what the metal object was in the asteroid.

  He looked through Darcy’s eyes, as she stared through her helmet.

  I should get back to the hauler, Darcy told herself.

  Just then, her headphones crackled into life. To her dismay, she heard Jick clear his throat. Then he said over the headphones, “What is this, my dear? I find you’re out on the asteroid.”

  “Jick,” she said in a dry voice.

  “Yes,” he said. “What are you doing out there, my dear?”

  You can’t tell him, Klane said. And he made it a command in her mind.

  I don’t want to sleep with him to keep him quiet, Darcy said, as if arguing with herself.

  You don’t have to, Klane told her.

  How will I keep him quiet then?

  You’ll think of something, Klane said.

  “Darcy,” Jick said over the headphones. “I think it’s time you and I had a long talk.”

  Darcy frowned, and she finally pulled herself from the alien thing hidden down in the ice. As she climbed out of the crevice, Klane’s farseeing withdrew from her mind.

  His awareness seemed to leap back toward the Attack Talon in Pulsar’s upper atmosphere. For a fleeting second, Klane’s powerful psionics saw what looked like Kresh Battle Fangs gliding down into the atmosphere.

  Shock filled him—Kresh spaceships were already at Pulsar? Why did the Battle Fangs enter the upper atmosphere? Only one reason seemed possible. In some fashion, the Kresh knew he was down here hiding and they hunted for him.

  I have to warn the others.

  On the pallet in his chamber, Klane’s blue eyes flew open. The knowledge of his dream filled him. The awareness of nearing Battle Fangs caused him to swing his legs off the bed. He rose with a lurch, shouting.

  Meanwhile, deep down in Klane’s subconscious, an alien psi-parasite mentally sighed with relief. The selected body of destiny—this Klane—had sensed its presence. Now, the Kresh intruded on the Chosen One’s thoughts. Yes, the approaching Battle Fangs came at the perfect moment. It must mean that fortune aided its great and noble task.

  8

  Cyrus swung around as Klane barged into the control room with his naked feet slapping against the deck plates. The Anointed One wore pants, but that was all except for the greasy junction-stone around his throat.

  Cyrus stood behind Jana’s pilot chair.

  She was his woman, a reddish-skinned native of Jassac with brown eyes, long brown hair, and a full figure. When he’d first met her, she’d worn fur garments and lived like a primitive in Berserker Clan. Now, she wore an Attack Talon uniform for one of Zama Dee’s crew. Down on Jassac, she had received old memories from her seeker, a powerful psionic. Some of those memories had taught her about modern life.

  Through protected windows, they could see Pulsar’s harsh winds blowing clouds around the ship. Cyrus and Jana had been touching and discussing their approaching marriage. Well, Jana had been doing most of the talking and Cyrus the touching.

  “Listen!” Klane shouted. “The Kresh know we’re here. They’re coming!”

  It took Cyrus a moment to understand what the shouting was about. When he finally got it, he asked, “How far away are they?”

  “Minutes from entering the atmosphere,” Klane said.

  “What? That doesn’t make sense. How can they be so close? Wouldn’t you have sensed them a long time ago?”

  K
lane scowled. “That’s right.” He closed his eyes as a look of concentration came over him. Just as fast, he opened his eyes. “They’re gone,” he said. “I can’t sense their ships anywhere.”

  “I don’t understand. You said they’re entering the atmosphere. They’re here.”

  “I did.”

  “Then—”

  “I had a dream.”

  “Wait a minute,” Cyrus said. “You just dreamed the Kresh were here?”

  Klane nodded.

  “I know Specials have precognitive dreams sometimes,” Cyrus said. “Heck, I think I had one. But I don’t think that means your dream—”

  “No! You don’t understand. It wasn’t a precognitive dream. I used farseeing in my sleep.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Exactly as the name implies,” Klane said. “I see things far away as they take place. I saw Timor Malik earlier, but that was less farseeing and more a . . . a connection between the two of us. What I saw in my sleep just now took place in the opposite direction, in the outer asteroid belt.”

  Cyrus glanced at Jana.

  She shrugged. “This is beyond me,” she told him quietly.

  “Yeah,” Cyrus muttered. He eyed the Anointed One. Klane looked ragged around the edges, maybe even a little wild. It was a surprise they didn’t all have nightmares about approaching Kresh. Yet Klane had amazing psi-powers. It would be rash to ignore the man’s warnings.

  Cyrus gripped the upper edge of Jana’s pilot chair. He recalled his death premonition earlier. He’d never had precognitive dreams. Was that anything like farseeing in your sleep? What had Klane seen that made him think of Kresh warships? First you see it and then you don’t. Something strange seemed to be going on.

  “Agreed,” Klane said. “I’m sensing that, too.”

  Jana eyed Cyrus, her look saying, What’s wrong with him?

  “I’m reading his thoughts,” Klane told her. “It saves time.”

  She gasped and clutched Cyrus’s hand.

  Cyrus noted her reaction. Nobody liked to have his or her thoughts sifted through. It made the person uneasy.

  Klane rubbed his face, an agitated gesture.

  “Maybe it’s time we poked up out of this thick atmosphere like gophers,” Cyrus said. “You know, sort of take a look around and see what’s what.”

  “No,” Jana said. “The clouds and radiation shield us.”

  “True,” Cyrus said. “But they’re also making us blind.”

  “That’s why Klane’s farseeing is so useful,” Jana said.

  “I thought I explained that,” Klane said. “Farseeing is different. I have to be out of body or dreaming to do it over stellar distances. Not with Timor Malik, though. He’s the exception because of our former link. When I scan around Pulsar, I do it through a process of TK and telepathy. I search for receptive minds.”

  “I got that,” Cyrus said. “But maybe I don’t understand the farseeing. You claimed to have seen the Kresh through a dream.”

  “My farseeing saw an event in the outer asteroid belt. When my . . . awareness, I suppose you’d call it, returned, I saw the Kresh Battle Fangs descending into our atmosphere.”

  “But now with your regular way of doing it, the Kresh ships are gone?”

  Klane nodded.

  “And you trust this . . . farseeing?” Cyrus asked.

  “I do.”

  “Hmm,” Cyrus said, rubbing his chin. “You just said something interesting. Your normal way of scanning has you searching for minds.”

  “Exactly.”

  “There could be a simple explanation then,” Cyrus said. “You and I shield ourselves from their mind scans as they search for us. Could the Bo Taw have learned to shield themselves from you?”

  “You mean with a null?” Klane asked.

  “Or something similar to a null,” Cyrus said.

  Klane appeared to think about that. “It’s possible.”

  “Yeah,” Cyrus said. “The more I think about it, the more that seems like the answer. If they’ve learned about the null, we doubly need to take a look around with the Attack Talon’s sensors.”

  “Agreed,” Klane said.

  Cyrus turned to Jana.

  “Shouldn’t we ask the others first before we leave our protection?” she asked. “This is a big decision.”

  “No,” Klane said. “I’m in charge. I’m telling you to take us up into space.”

  Jana glanced at Cyrus.

  Cyrus thought about it. They’d never had a knock-down, drag-out discussion about authority. They should have. Everyone looked to Klane, though. He was the Anointed One, so it made sense he should know what to do.

  “You mistrust me,” Klane said.

  Cyrus scowled. “Are you back to reading my thoughts?”

  “Listen to me. I sense danger. It’s coming. We have no more time to dally.”

  “I don’t know, Klane. We don’t have to rush the decision that fast. Let’s think about this for just a minute.” There was something odd to Klane’s behavior, something different.

  Klane opened his mouth as if to argue. Then he shut it. “Yes. Perhaps now is the time to debate this.”

  “Should I call the others?” Jana asked. She meant Yang and those of Berserker Clan who had received memories from the seeker. The inner group also included the Vomag Skar and possibly Mentalist Niens. It did not include the shuttle crewmembers or the Attack Talon’s people they’d captured while taking over the vessels.

  “No,” Klane said. “This is between Cyrus and me.”

  “Yang might think otherwise,” Jana said. “Skar might disagree, too.”

  “Skar will agree with whatever Cyrus thinks,” Klane said. “The soldier considers himself the Earther’s guard. Yang has pretensions to leadership, but he is Berserker Clan and I am Tash-Toi.”

  “You can’t bring that into it,” Jana said with heat. “We’re all beyond Jassac’s philosophies. We each have seeker knowledge now. We understand the greater danger.”

  “We’re still who we were,” Klane said.

  “You think you’ve always been this forceful?” Jana asked. “I’ve been watching you, Klane. Our weeks aboard ship have changed you. Do you even remember some of the stories you told us about your youth? I think you’ve changed a lot more than you realize.”

  Klane pursed his lips.

  “Okay. Everyone is different,” Cyrus said. “Klane is still the Anointed One and I’m the man from Earth. I’m the only one besides Skar who thinks like a modern person.”

  “You misjudge yourself,” Klane said. “You primarily think of yourself as a Latin King, an enforcer for your Milan gang.”

  “Okay, whatever,” Cyrus said. “The point is, who’s in charge, you or me or a mixture of it? We need a captain. I sense doom, and you are getting edgy. Likely, one way or another, we’re going to be in combat before this is through.”

  “You know I should lead,” Klane said.

  Cyrus wanted to laugh. The man little older than a teenager wearing nothing but scruffy pants figured he should lead, huh?

  I have the memories of many people, Klane told him telepathically. They speak to me, using the wisdom of accumulated lives. You are resourceful and brave, but you lack my deeper insights.

  “I know you’re the supposed savior of the Fenris System.” Cyrus cleared his throat. Klane was starting to intimidate him. Cyrus realized the man should lead them if he was the Anointed One. Yet something was off about Klane, and that troubled him. Cyrus put up a mental block, thoroughly tired of the psionic intrusion. “Do you have any idea how you’ll do that saving?”

  Klane appeared to mull that over. Maybe his many memories had a brain hall meeting. Suddenly, the Anointed One’s eyes widened with apparent understanding. “My farseeing must have something to do with it. Yes. The al
ien artifact in the asteroid is the key. I’m sure of it now.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cyrus said. “What artifact? You’re not making sense. Does this have anything to do with the farseeing in the asteroid belt?”

  Klane told them about Darcy Foxe, Jick, and the ice hauler.

  “So this spacer found an object, an ancient alien thing,” Cyrus said. “I don’t know, Klane. Finding it now seems to be a little too coincidental. There’s something odd going on and I can’t quite pinpoint it. I’m sensing—”

  “Danger,” Klane said. “I’m feeling it, too, waves of danger. We must take the Attack Talon into orbital space. Despite what I didn’t see with regular psi-scanning, I fear Kresh Battle Fangs may be entering Pulsar’s atmosphere.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Cyrus said. “In the interest of time and ship safety, let’s make you temporary captain.” He didn’t see what he could do to stop Klane if the man decided to start moving them like pawns. So, if Klane wanted to be in charge, they should do it for now. “Afterward,” Cyrus said, “we should hash this out with the others. By that I mean, Yang, Skar, Niens—”

  “I no longer trust Niens.”

  “No problem. But I think we should at least bounce this off Yang. The man has experience running a tribe. He would probably add a few things we’re forgetting.”

  Klane’s blue eyes seemed to shine for a moment.

  Cyrus found that unsettling.

  “Agreed,” Klane said. “I will captain our vessel. Now, take us up, Jana. Let us see if the Kresh have discovered our secret or not.”

  The three of them took their places in the command module. The Kresh Attack Talon only needed a few crewmembers to run. The rest helped with damage control or were along as ground fighters.

  “Attention,” Cyrus said over the intercom. “We’re about to take off, so buckle in and wait for orders.”

  Klane sat beside Jana while Cyrus settled in at the weapons panel.

  The Attack Talon’s engines began to thrum with power. Slowly, Jana lifted the ship higher. Pink and yellow clouds whipped past the vessel. Without the grav-plates, the Attack Talon would have rocked wildly.

  Cyrus’s nostrils widened as nervousness bit. They’d hidden down here for weeks already. Boredom and then stir-craziness had threatened everybody. One thing he remembered from the institute was psi-echoes. Those with ESP could play mental tricks on themselves. That’s why reality therapy was part of the curriculum. If for no other reason, Cyrus thought it was a good idea to pop up and look around with sensors instead of solely trusting Klane’s psionics to see what was nearby.