The Deep Dark Well (17 page)

“The rations you will
want to keep for emergency situations,” said the computer.  “I will lead you to
a fresh food source when you leave here.  The mechanism is an autodoc, used to
heal wounds beyond the capability of your garment to handle.”

Lastly she checked the
gloves, of the same material as the suit, before slipping them under the belt.

“What about some
weapons?” she asked, hoping the machine that produced these handy devices might
give her some firepower as well.  She would like to be able to shoot back at
her pursuers, if they happened upon her.

“My programming does
not allow me to give weapons to any unauthorized personnel,” said the computer.

“There are weapons
available on the station, then?”

“Yes, there are.  They
are stored in numerous security centers spaced around the station.  I could
lead you to the nearest security center, but I am unable to grant access.”

“Is there any way to
gain access without your granting it?”

“Possession of the
proper key probe will allow access to whoever holds one.”

“Like this?” she asked,
holding up the finger of the robot, the needle like
key
sticking from
its front.

“Exactly like that.”

“Then lead on, McDuff. 
I want to see the armory before I settle for anything as unimportant as food.”

*    *    *

The heavy door opened
as soon as the needle key was inserted into the small hole.  Another door, then
another beyond that, slid back into the wall.  Whoever built the station had
definitely wanted to keep unauthorized people out of this place.  She wondered
for a moment as to what other security this armory might have.  But the
computer had not warned her of any, and it hadn’t led her astray, yet.  And
surely it would control any security system the armory might have.

She walked into the
armory, finding herself at first in a moderate sized chamber.  An empty
chamber, with three doors leading off of it.  An insertion of the key and the
first door opened.  This room contained rack upon rack of rifles and pistols. 
She had no idea what most of them did, but they sure looked deadly enough.

Pandi grabbed what looked
like a small handgun.  It felt light and well balanced, much lighter than she
had expected.  The grip felt strange in her hand, at first.  Then it seemed to
mold itself to her grip, as if it had been made for her.

“A good choice of a
weapon,” said the computer.

“What is it?”
“A standard laser pistol, with settings for multiple frequencies of coherent
light.  It will stop most targets, with a minimum of collateral damage.  You
will of course want to take some power packs to go with it.”

She set the pistol
aside and grabbed a quartet of power packs from a shelf above the rack, making
sure they were the type that fit the pistol.  Then she went about looking over
the rest of the rack of pistols until she found something that was a bit
different.  This was somewhat larger, with a bulb at the front of the barrel.

“An EMP gun, capable of
disabling any kind of electrical equipment.  With an almost unlimited range.”

“Can electrical systems
be shielded against its effects?”

“Possible,” replied the
computer.  “Standard robots are incapable of carrying that weight of
shielding.”

“Good enough,” she
said, placing the pistol on the floor beside the laser.  “Now how about
something with some real firepower?”

The computer directed
her to another rack, this one of larger weapons.  Many looked like what she
would have called assault rifles, though some were more of the submachine gun
class.  One in particular caught her eye, like something she had seen in the
history books.  From one of the great wars of the twentieth century.  Something
the Russians had used against the Germans, though she couldn’t remember the
name of the weapon.

“No,” said the
computer, “it is not a Russian PPSh submachine gun, though it does bear a
superficial resemblance to one.”

Pandi pulled the weapon
from the rack.  Just as with the pistols it took a second for the weapon to
adjust to her touch, but within moments it felt at home in her hands.  Again it
was light and well balanced.  This one seemed to hold the infantryman’s dreams.

“What is it?”

“That is a light
assault gun.  It uses magnetic force to propel the pellets held in the drum at
ultra high velocity.”

“A rail gun?”

“Very similar, though
much more powerful than what you are thinking.  The drum holds two thousand
rounds of 5mm ammunition.  The selector on the left side of the weapon allows
you to select single shot, burst or continuous automatic.  The switch on the
right side allows you to select the power of the shot.  The dial on the front
of the drum allows ammunition configuration.”

“It carries more than
one kind of ammunition?”

“Choices are limited to
standard hard case projectile, exploding minigrenades and shape charge
penetrators.”

“Sound like enough for
me.  I guess I’ll take a couple of extra drums with me.  No use getting caught
without ammo.”

The next room contained
grenades and explosives of various types, much smaller than anything she would
have expected.  The computer guided her through a selection, until she had a
dozen of the small devices.

The last room contained
a number of identical vests and helmets, as well as web gear and accessories. 
The vests were body armor, lightweight and affording much more protection than
her jumpsuit.  She found one that fit properly, strapping down the deltoid
guards, closing the fasteners.  A holster that would hold the laser fit on the
left side of the vest.  She found another holster, this one for the EMP pistol,
and attached it to her belt, strapping the lower part of the holster to her
right thigh.  Power packs fit into belt and vest pouches, the drums into a
light backpack.

The helmets were
marvels.  The visor that fit over the front allowed a multitude of different
sensory modes.  Radar, ladar, infrared and ultraviolet, passive and active.  As
with everything else it fit perfectly, molding itself to her head.

Pandi checked herself
out, making sure everything was attached and in the right place.  If she didn’t
look dangerous she didn’t know what else she could do to make herself so.  The
next time she ran into something that meant her harm she would be able to fight
back, effectively.

“OK,” she said, “I’m
ready.  Show me to the food.”

*    *    *

The thirteen large
vessels slowed to a complete halt, a little over two billion kilometers from
the
Donut
.  They assumed a globular formation that allowed them all to
bring their weapons to bear to the front, while also surrounding the flagship
in a defensive screen.  Passive sensors strained to gather all possible data
from the object ahead.

Admiral Miklas Gerasi
stood close to the holo display of the
Orca
, watching the incoming data
come to life, as the
Donut
and the object it orbited assumed a three
dimensional structure in the display.  He was aware of the rest of the bridge
crew staring at the display, nervousness etched upon their faces.  He knew what
they were thinking.  It was what he was thinking.

It’s so big.  How could
we have thought to attempt the conquest of such a thing.
  A mass of the
ultimate in degenerate matter, more mass than a thousand star systems.  Closed
off from the rest of the Universe.  Used by the thin ring in orbit around it. 
Thin in a relative term, with enough space inside to house the sum total of
humanity in this Galaxy.

Not when it was built,
of course.  Then the Galaxy overflowed with human life, as well as the teeming
masses of hellish aliens.  Still the largest structure ever built by human
hands, turning the black hole into the most immense power generating source in
the Galaxy.  The energy to link the hundreds of millions of habitable planets
in the Galaxy, allowing people to travel to any destination in almost no time. 
The power to control the Galaxy.  And his people must have it, or no one would.

“Orbital velocity of the
object is.”

“Yes,” said the admiral
to the staring science officer.  “The orbital velocity is what?”

“Sorry sir,” said the
man with a sheepish expression on his face.  “It’s just, that the figures seem
so, unbelievable.”

“We are now in the
realm of the unbelievable,” said Gerasi.  “Any figures your sensors show you
are likely to be correct, no matter how unbelievable.”

“Yes sir,” said the
officer.  “Orbital velocity of the outer shell of the structure is 18,813.68
kilometers per second.”

“That’s over .06 C,”
said the navigation officer, his voice cracking at the enormity of the thought.

“That would be the
necessary velocity to generate the centrifugal force needed to counterbalance
the pull of the hole,” said the science officer, studying his computer
displays.

“What about tidal
forces?” said the admiral.

“It’s too far out from
the hole for tidal forces to be much of a factor,” said the science officer. 
“Especially such a massive hole.  Difference in G force between the inner and
outer shell of the station couldn’t be more than .04 G.

“Material of the
structure must be similar to that of the pyramids of the elders,” said the
science officer.  “Super dense, super strong.”

“We knew it had to be
such,” said the captain. 

Yes
, thought the admiral. 
And it had taken the best of their technology years of constant struggle to
gain entry to one of the structures that dwelt on every inhabitable planet. 
Only to find that the gates were all dead, with no way to reactivate them from
planetside.  That ability had to reside in the
Donut
itself.

“It will be three point
two hours before active sensory arrays are able to add to our data base,”
continued the science officer.  “Round trip travel time for light speed
transmission.”

“Passive sensors will
continue to gather all variables in energy transmission from the station,” said
the navigation officer, checking his own displays.

“I’ll be in my ready
room,” said the admiral.  “Please call me if anything out of the ordinary
happens.”

“That covers a lot of
ground,” said the captain.

“That’s right,” said
Gerasi.  “Anything that makes anyone of the bridge crew thinks it might be meaningful.”

 Gerasi stalked from
the bridge into his ready room, trying to smooth down the conflicting emotions
that threatened to bubble to the surface.  Fear was paramount among those
emotions, and it wouldn’t do to let the crew see such an emotion in their
leader.  He must be the bastion of strength, no matter how much he wanted to
run from this place as fast as his ships could carry him.

Chapter 10

Civilizations rise and
fall.  This has been the history of mankind, of all the civilizations that have
existed.  This is the history of all of the nonhuman races as well.  With the
opening of this station, this hub of commerce and transportation for the
benefit of all sentients of this Galaxy, this history will change. 
Civilization is now eternal.

Speech of Lord Mathali
Kramsa on the opening of the first
Donut

The being that called
himself Vengeance glowered at the holo display in the air to his front.  They
just sat there, doing nothing but probing the structure of the
Donut
from a distance.  Just beyond the line of death he had imposed, as if they knew
of the line, and what awaited them if they crossed.

“Active sensory probes
are now impacting the station,” said the computer.

“Types?”

“Standard radar, deep
radar, ladar, and aether wave,” replied the computer.

“Standard level nine
tech,” said Vengeance.  “No graviton beam probes?”

“No, Vengeance.  Even
though the ships themselves seem to use graviton production for artificial
gravity, they appear to have not advanced in graviton research far enough to
use them for sensory probes.”

“Then they will be
shocked by what hits them if they come closer,” said Vengeance, laughing
silently.  He gestured with a long fingered hand and a robot approached.  As
the creature stepped into his sight his expression hardened, as anger rose back
to the surface.

“Why have you not been
able to find her?” he growled at the robot as he turned his chair toward it. 
“How can one primitive organic have eluded you?  How could she have escaped in
the first place?”

The robot stood impassively
to his front. 
Of course
, he thought,
it has no emotions
.  He
could not really frighten it into increased action.  The robot had a
self-preservation program, but it was not the same thing as fear. 
Maybe I
need to create some organic servants.
  At least they would give him
pleasure in their reactions, and he could entertain himself with their torture.