The Devil's Nebula (10 page)

“Quite,” Nordquist said. “But as you suggest, we have no time in which to debate the finer points of the matter.”

Beside him, Lania cleared her throat impatiently. “Could you tell us, Director, just what it is you want from us?”

Carew felt a surge of pride in his pilot.

Director Nordquist nodded slightly to the man on his right, and the slim, dapper Indian leaned forward and smiled.

“That is simple, my friends,” he said. “We would like to give you a starship.”

CHAPTER SIX

C
AREW STARED AT
the Director.

Lania was the first to recover from the surprise. “Give us a starship?”

Jed swore, succinctly, and Carew found himself laughing out loud. The entire situation was just getting all the more mysterious.

He said, “We are being given a starship, Director – but not, I take it, our freedom?”

Nordquist smiled. “Your freedom, at this juncture, is not negotiable.”

“Then what is?”

“Whether or not you will take up the offer of the starship.”

“And the strings that are attached, no doubt?” Carew said.

The albino to the Director’s left, Dr Galve Aldo, leaned towards Nordquist and whispered something to him. The Director nodded and said, “Perhaps, before we come to the finer points of our negotiations, you might like to see the starship itself?”

He gestured to the viewscreen and the scene of deep space changed instantly. Carew stared into a hangar occupied by a sleek golden ship perhaps twice the size of the
Poet
. It was, he thought, the most beautiful space-going vessel he’d ever seen, lean and arching with sweeping delta wings and what looked like four big void drives.

Lania said, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Those engines...” Jed said.

Carew said, “It looks pristine. Has it ever flown?”

“Only in test flights,” Choudri replied. “It’s the latest model void-liner from the Volk manufactory on Mars. Its engines are state-of-the-art, faster than anything in production across the Expansion. Several of its sub-routines have not yet been fitted in our regular space-fleet vessels.”

“And you’re giving it to us?” Lania said, more than a note of scepticism in her voice.

Choudri smiled. “A temporary loan, for the duration of the mission,” he said.

“Ah,” Carew said. “Now we’re getting to the heart of the matter.”

“Details later,” Director Nordquist said, moving to a hatch set in the wall beside the viewscreen. “Would you care for a conducted tour of the
Hawk
?” He gestured to the guards, who released the prisoners from the dock.

They followed Nordquist through a hatch and down a flight of stairs into the well of the hangar. The
Hawk
loomed above them as they strolled across the deck; it was, Carew thought, a thing of grace and beauty, pleasing to the senses above and beyond its cutting-edge engineering. It was also, he thought, well-named: sleek and predatory, its nose-cone narrowing like a vicious beak. Its swept-back wings made it look like it was about to launch itself into space.

The officials climbed a ramp that led into the lavish fuselage and escorted Carew and his team to the flight-deck.

Lania stared around her in wonder. “May I?” she asked, gesturing towards the primary sling.

“Be my guest,” Nordquist said.

She slipped into the sling, glanced up at Carew and grinned.

Jed was moving around the flight-deck, caressing surfaces, marvelling at fittings and fixtures like a child on Christmas day.

Lania opened her eyes and smiled at Carew. “It makes the
Poet
seem antique, Ed.”

Carew nodded, piqued that the Expansion authorities thought their heads could be turned by having this bauble dangled before them. No – he thought – what piqued him was the fact that they
were
being bought by the promise of the bauble.

Nordquist had them where he wanted them, of course; the alternative was unthinkable.

“I’d like to take it on a test flight,” Lania said.

“Of course. All that will be sorted out in time,” Nordquist said.

Carew interrupted, “Naturally, we first need to know the nature of the mission.”

Nordquist smiled. “Naturally, Captain Carew. You will be taking the
Hawk
– if, that is, you agree to the specifics of the mission – into Vetch space.”

Carew exchanged startled looks with Jed and Lania as Nordquist gestured and they were escorted from the
Hawk
. They left the hangar and returned to the amphitheatre, the irony of the situation not lost on him. They had been handed down a death penalty for transgressing Vetch space, but the sentence would be commuted if they agreed to do the very same in the state-of-the-art
Hawk
.

Carew could not help smirking as he stepped into the chamber.

The sliding door at the far end of the room opened and Commander Gorley stepped through brusquely. He consulted with the officials, then gestured to Carew, Lania and Jed to be seated on a foam-form.

The three officials sat opposite, while Gorley remained standing, in the manner of someone about to give a briefing.

Carew regarded the man and confirmed to himself that his earlier assessment of the Commander was unchanged: he did not like Gorley. Everything about the Expansion man, from the authoritarian cut of his black uniform to the cruel glint in his dark eyes, spoke of the repressive regime he detested.

Commander Gorley cleared his throat and said, “You have seen the ship and you are aware of the choice before you. Stated simply, it is the choice between death by lethal injection, or the opportunity to undertake a mission of utmost importance to the Expansion.”

Carew interrupted. “Which is also,” he said, “a suicide mission.”

Gorley turned his dark gaze towards him and, although he wanted to look away, Carew stared at the Commander. “Well?” he said.

“As you are in ignorance of the nature of the mission,” Gorley responded, “you are mistaken to deem it a suicide mission.”

Lania spoke up, “And you think a flight into Vetch space isn’t?”

“I have every faith in the
Hawk
,” Gorley said, “and in its crew. I am sure that a mission into – or rather
through
– Vetch space will prove a resounding success.”

Choudri spoke, “I must concur. I certainly would not volunteer for the mission if I thought it was going to be suicidal.”

Carew stared at the Indian. “You’re going too?”

The little man inclined his head. “Why, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Likewise,” Gorley said, “I will be accompanying you through Vetch space as part of the military component of the mission.”

Carew tried not to show his displeasure at this. He said, “Of course, that presumes our agreement to undertake the flight.”

Beside him, he felt Jed stiffen in his seat.

Gorley rose and stood before the viewscreen. He gestured, and the view through to the cavernous hangar darkened. On the screen appeared the still image of a starship.

Jed murmured, “An old colony vessel, boss. Out of the Aldebaran yards. I’d say it’s more than a hundred years old. Look at those ancient slow-boosters.”

The ship was a chunky collection of lashed-together modules and tanks. To think, Carew mused, that in the early days of the Expansion, hundreds and thousands of desperate colonists entrusted their lives to this kind of vessel. It was thanks to this early workhorse and others like it that humankind was spread across the length of the spiral arm.

“Almost one hundred years ago,” Gorley was saying, “
The Pride of Procyon
set off from the colony world of Vercors, Procyon V. It carried a complement of five thousand colonists in cold sleep, and a skeleton crew of twenty-five technicians who would cycle in and out of suspension over the course of the voyage.”

Jed said, incredulously, “And they headed into Vetch space?”

Gorley ignored the interruption and went on. “They were part of a little-known sect or cult, persecuted by the authorities on their planet. They wanted a new world on which to live by their own ideals –”

“Which were?” Carew enquired.

This time Gorley scowled at the interruption, but replied, “Unfortunately, little is known of their beliefs.”

“Don’t tell me, Commander,” Carew said, “you wish to track down these cultists and eliminate them?”

Gorley ignored Carew’s jibe. “They set off on a course which would take them through Vetch space, looking for a suitable world on which to start a colony.”

“In Vetch space?” Lania said.

Gorley shook his head. “Their idea, insofar as we can tell – this was nearly a hundred years ago, remember – was to go
beyond
Vetch space, to a sector of stars on the very edge of the Devil’s Nebula, so called because of the ‘horns’ projecting from the nebula itself.” He gestured to the screen and the ship vanished, to be replaced by the image of a gaseous nebula, a bright swirl of orange and mauve. Its resemblance to a devil’s head, Carew admitted, was striking.

Jed said, “They must have been insane! Why not try further along the arm, out of reach of the Vetch?”

“As you no doubt can appreciate, I am not privy to the motives of the colonists at the time. Supposition is that they did not want the inexorable expansion of the human race to catch up with them, to infect their ideals with notions they abhorred. So they took a chance and ventured through Vetch space, in search of El Dorado.”

Lania was shaking her head. “But they’d never have made it, would they? I mean, a slow ship like that, against the Vetch?”

Gorley said, “One would suppose that the chances of their success in evading the Vetch would be minimal. Perhaps it was a measure of their desperation, or their desire to found a virgin colony, that motivated them to take the risk. At any rate, the fact is that succeed they did.”

Carew stared at the Commander. “What?”

“They succeeded in crossing through Vetch territory undetected – or, if not undetected, at least unmolested – and making landfall on the planet of a star on the edge of the Devil’s Nebula.”

“How can you be sure?” Jed asked.

“A little over a year ago, technicians working on this station detected faint void-space signals, obviously human in origin, issuing from the nebula. It was not a message as such, but a repeated code which, when deciphered, proved to be the mayday signal of an old colony-class vessel. The signal was coded such as to inform receivers that the ship had landed, but had subsequently suffered some form of... distress, let’s say. There were follow up signals, but these proved too faint to decipher.”

In the silence that followed Gorley’s words, Carew pondered their implications. “So now the Expansion, in their altruism, is sending a vessel to rescue these poor benighted cultists?” he asked with a healthy dose of scepticism.

“Call it a scientific follow-up mission,” Gorley said. “A mission with a two-fold purpose: to locate and possibly aid the surviving colonists – they are human, after all – and to explore the so-far uncharted territory of the Devil’s Nebula.”

And to claim it in the name of the Expansion, Carew thought.

Lania said, “And you’ll be coming along yourself, and Director Choudri, despite the dangers of transgressing Vetch space?”

“We are more than confident that with the
Hawk
, and with your expert assistance, we can evade the attention of any Vetch intercept vessels. I would not be embarking on this venture if I thought otherwise.”

He looked from Carew to Lania and Jed. “Any further questions?”

Carew nodded. “Just this: why us? Why not draw a crew from the thousands of pilots, engineers and captains you have working for the Expansion?”

Gorley looked at Director Choudri, who said, “We have been watching you and your ship for some time, Captain Carew. You have been, as the old saying goes, on our radar.”

Jed said, “You wanted the best?”

“And you have proved yourselves to be that,” Gorley said. He hesitated, then went on, “Well, do I have your agreement to fly the mission?”

Carew looked from Lania to Jed. He turned to Gorley. “We’d like to discus the matter amongst ourselves, if it’s all the same to you.” He smiled at the Commander; their decision, he knew, was a foregone conclusion, but he didn’t want to give Commander Gorley the satisfaction of seeing them eat out of his hand.

Gorley nodded. “You have two hours. That should allow you sufficient time to see sense and agree to the offer.”

“If we do decide to help you out,” Carew said as they stood, “when will the voyage commence?”

“The
Hawk
is scheduled to leave the station in three days,” Gorley said.

Carew nodded. “And when and if we survive, will we be allowed to keep the
Hawk
, in recompense for the
Poet
?”

Gorley barely hid his smile. “I am afraid that would be impossible. When you return, you will be granted your freedom. You should be thankful for that, Captain Carew.”

Director Choudri looked at his watch. “Gentlemen, Pilot Takiomar, I look forward to our next meeting.”

The guards were summoned and the trio were marched from the chamber.

This time they were not returned to the spartan cell on the upper levels of the station, but escorted to a suite of rooms on the lower levels overlooking the access port, through which all manner of starships came and went like bees at a hive.

Carew saw the smartsuit first, occupying the floor in the corner of the room like an oil slick. Only then did he see his own clothes, and those of Jed, neatly folded on a foam-form.

“Cleaned and neatly pressed,” Carew observed as the door slid shut behind them. He pulled off the regulation prison shift and quickly dressed.

Lania exclaimed under her breath. “Hell... Ed, this isn’t my smartsuit.”

He turned to find her holding it up, a flimsy jet-black garment like the skin of some fabulous animal. “You’re sure?”

“I lived in the thing for over ten years. It grew with me. This one...” She shook her head. “It’s the latest model, far more advanced than my old one.”