Infinite Day (4 page)

There was a new sequence of six or seven sounds on the hull.

“It can't be,” gasped Hanna. “I think it's Death out there.”

You, too?

“George, can . . . can it open the door?” Kala, transfixed by the hatchway, didn't look at him.

“It's sealed.” George was standing up, his face twisted toward the porthole. “But, Captain, whatever it is . . . if it can walk in a vacuum . . . it can do anything.”

A soft thudding began, as if something was striking the side of the ship. It moved along, drawing ever closer to the hatch. Kala held her breath and pushed hard against the seat to stop her shaking. Then, praying, she stood up, her gaze drawn irresistibly to the hatch. Nothing else mattered.

In the next moment, three things happened simultaneously.

An alarm sounded.

A voice from a speaker blared. “
Xalanthos-B!
You are on a collision course! Cut your speed! We are taking evasive action.”

And a thing appeared at the window—a gleaming oval thing of dull, moist whiteness with deep-set, dark, empty orbs and a lank twist of black hair. A thing that even terrified brains could recognize as a human skull.

Kala knew she was screaming but couldn't stop herself.

Frozen into immobility, she saw the engineer. His eyes were staring forward, but he was running aft. And now Hanna, wild-eyed and yelling incomprehensibly, was pushing past her.

Slowly, Kala forced herself to turn round to see, just ahead of them, the bulk of the
Lanuane
—a towering mass of white and silver metal—filling the whole screen.

It's too close!

A training that had prepared her for every eventuality imaginable—but not that which was unimaginable—finally took over. Kala turned to grab the controls. But she was in the wrong position, and her hands wouldn't respond quickly enough.

Then the panicked Hanna crashed into her. Kala stumbled, and her feet caught under the control plate.

The
Xalanthos-B
lurched and gained speed.

In the central pane of the screen she could now see every detail of the battleship: the shuttered portholes, the matte gray armored tiles, the spiny clusters of silver antennae, the thrusters urgently venting gas.

“We're going to hit!” she screamed.

She was right.

2

F
orty light-years away, Merral D'Avanos tapped the accelerator lever of his two-seater. The vehicle bounded forward along the darkened lane, the headlights exaggerating the road's unevenness. In the mirror, he could see the receding lights of Brenito's house.

“Vero,” he began, though he realized he was speaking as much to himself as to his friend, “it was very easy for me to say that we would go into the heart of the Dominion to rescue the hostages. But can we do it?”

The silence that followed was so long that Merral risked a glance. In the gloom of the interior, he saw that Vero was staring ahead with a fixed gaze.

Eventually an answer came. “My friend, your boldness inspires me. But it also scares me. Y-yet . . . I think this is the right decision.”

“So can it be done?”

In the rearview mirror Merral saw headlights come on.
Lloyd taking Azeras and Anya to pick up Betafor.

“
It's h-hard to overestimate the . . . very real dangers.”

“That's dawning on me. And the problems! I hardly know where to begin.”

“I sympathize. But let me tell you some things that may be encouraging.”

“Please.”
I think I need encouragement
.

“Well, we were not idle when we were all down in the foundations of Isterrane. We felt it was likely that someone would want to take the
Rahllman's Star
to Earth. So we began planning, compiling crew lists, even designing the docking link. Betafor's memory contained the basic schematics of the ship, so we were treated to ‘another demonstration of the superiority of the Allenix.'”

“So some preparations have been made? Good!”

“For an Earth trip, Merral.” He shook his head. “A picnic compared to visiting the Sarata system. The heart of the Dominion. And a long way away. I'm surprised Azeras says we can do it in five weeks.”

Merral stroked the steering, and the two-seater swung onto a slightly larger and smoother road. He edged the speed up, and the irony caught him.
A three-hundred-light-year journey to do, and I try to shave minutes off a trip to the airport!

“I was hoping to leave as soon as possible. Midday tomorrow?”

“Oh,
Merral
.” Exasperation tinged Vero's voice. “Be realistic. You don't just walk into strange space vessels and take them over. Not even you. Particularly this one. You were inside the slave vessel, and your account was unpleasant. We must be careful.”

As a panicked rabbit bounded away out of the headlights, Vero continued. “That's one reason why it's not going to be easy getting permission for this flight.”

“‘Getting permission'? Do we need it?”

Vero sighed. “Evil rarely has just one child. One of the results of Clemant's taking the law into his own hands and running off with the
Dove
is that there is now immense pressure to make sure nothing like it can ever happen again. That's why they appointed Ludovica to chair this Farholme Administrative Committee. There were many reasons why she was chosen, but one was because it was felt she could be tough.”

“It was Clemant and Delastro who ran off with the ship, not us.” Through the screen, Merral saw a fluttering group of moths being buffeted out of the way.

“Oh yes, but you and I must figure highly on any list of uncontrolled elements on Farholme. No, I guess it will have to go to committee meetings.”

“Vero, I don't want to be controlled by a bureaucracy!”

“And neither do I. But this is the price we must pay. Alas, poor Farholme,” Vero said as if to himself, “swinging from anarchy to bureaucracy.”

Merral slid the windows down to take in the warm, dusty air with its fragrance of woods and grass and life.
Where we are headed, I will not get any of this.

“Vero, where at the airport are we going?”

“North end. The Inter-System Freight Transfer Depot. It's a big hangar that has been empty since the Gate went. It's big enough to hold everything we need. I have already sent a message for them to direct Ludovica and the logistics team there.”

“That square, brown-sided building? Okay, I can find that.”

“Oh, Merral, one more thing. I also took the liberty of putting together a small document outlining, from our point of view, what has happened over the last few months. How we found Azeras and Betafor, what really happened at Tezekal and Ynysmant, and what we know about the Dominion and the Freeborn. I was going to send you a copy and have you add your comments. But I think it will do to send to Ludovica as it stands. And I think she needs it. Are you happy with that?”

Merral considered the offer. “Send it. It will save a lot of explaining. I'll read it when I have a moment.” As he said it, it came to him forcefully that Vero had written this to send to Earth on the
Dove
. “And, Vero . . . I'm sorry that I have wrecked your plans and we are not going to Earth. At least not immediately.”

The sigh that followed made the depth of his friend's feelings plain. “After the battles, I wish I could say I feel that this world is my home. But ironically, I think I just want to get back to Earth even more quickly. I know you're a reluctant warrior, but I'm even more so. And I worry about what will happen when the
Dove
gets there. My friend, I fear that when we arrive at Earth we might be treated as villains rather than heroes.”

“Vero, that is something I'll be glad to face. If the Assembly can no longer tell truth from lies, then the days are very dark.”

“The days
are
indeed very dark,” Vero whispered.

In the long silence that followed, Merral heard his friend sending various files. They were at the outskirts of Isterrane now, and as the road widened, more traffic fed in. However, Merral didn't slow down. A moment later an approaching vehicle had to swerve almost onto the verge as Merral overtook it. “Sorry!” Merral muttered.

“Did you know breaches of traffic etiquette have risen by over 1000 percent in the last few months? They're talking about making laws.”

Merral heard a strange remoteness in Vero's tone.
As if it all no longer concerns him.
Then a new thought struck him like a blow.
But then, it
doesn't
concern him, does it? Or me. Our focus is now the Dominion and then Ancient Earth. The fate of Farholme must be left to others
.

Vero had finished sending files, so Merral raised a question that was troubling him. “Vero, something you touched on earlier. I was on the
Slave of Rahllman's Star
, and that was indeed an evil place. How can we be sure that the parent ship is not the same? or worse?”

“Your concern is shared. We have interviewed both Azeras and Betafor on this. It seems that it may not be unbearably bad. There's a main steersman chamber on the parent ship, but it's now empty; you killed the only steersman. We should vent that chamber into vacuum, disinfect what's left, and then seal it off permanently. I see no reason for us to enter it when we travel. It's a big vessel.”

A minute later, Vero spoke again. “Luke—who talked a lot with Azeras—has his own concerns. But you can let him discuss them.”

Merral swung wide past a truck. “Aah, Luke. Can you call him to the airport? I need to see him.”

“My friend, I have already done just that. He was back in Maraplant, so he won't get here until midmorning.”

“Excellent. Do you think he'll come?”

“He doesn't know the full details about this mission, but I don't think he will refuse. He said he wants to keep an eye on you.”

“Good. I need him, Vero. I have found out that I am not strong enough. I have the three of you: Lloyd to look after my skin, Luke to look after my soul, and you . . .”

“What do I do?”

“Look after my sanity.”

There was weak laughter.

“Well, my friend, protecting you may be the very wisest thing we can do if you
are
this ‘great adversary.'”

Merral gave a dismissive wave of the hand. “Oh, you know how I reject that title.”

“You may d-do so, and I sympathize, but put yourself in the shoes of the D-Dominion. They probably know you were the friend of the P-Perena who dealt them such a devastating blow. They certainly know you led us at Tezekal, where they lost b-badly. And they know you led us at Ynysmant, where they lost again. Your reputation grows. I suspect if Lezaroth gets back safely to the Dominion without us intercepting him—”

“Let's hope not,” Merral interrupted.

“Well, if he does, then I think your name and face will be up there on the lord-emperor's ‘m-most wanted' list.”

“‘Most wanted'? Oh, I see. I don't care for that.”

All of a sudden they were driving through the now-deserted defensive mounds that had been thrown up against the expected Dominion advance, and Merral slowed down to wind his way through. He looked around.
How long would these lines have held? Thank you, Lord, that they were not needed.

Soon they were approaching the airport. A few minutes later, they drew up before a high-sided building; the tall doors had been slid wide open and a dusty light was spilling out into the darkness.

As Merral walked in, a couple of men saluted. He gazed around at the huge floor area, the high gantries, and the loading equipment, smelling the dust and the stale oil.

“Vero, this will do. See that end office? I want to make a planning room there. We need power, fresh water, and some food. Oh, and some guards to keep away the curious.”

“I'll get that done.”

“Our first requirement must be people. Let's send out a summons.”

“Agreed.”

“The envoy stipulated twenty-four soldiers. I'd suggest twenty generalists and four snipers.”

“We could t-try to get four or so of the team that took the
Dove
.”

“Good idea. I want people with battle experience. And, Vero, we adopt the rules we had at Tezekal when we asked for volunteers. We take no one who is an only child, a parent, or newly married. And they need to have had a full medical.”
This is all going to take time. Launch time is receding still further.

“From what Azeras said, they also should have a psychological checkup.”

“True; this will be a long, high-stress mission.”

“I-I was also thinking of the Below-Space psychological effects that we've heard of.”

“Yes.” Merral thought for a moment. “Other crew? Luke as chaplain, clearly. I presume we take an engineer and a doctor. And a communications officer.”