The Devil's Nebula (27 page)

The old man smiled. “You saw the ceremony. You saw Rahn give himself to the monster. You saw the girl, Hahta, step without protest into the Harvester.”

“But I assumed she was drugged,” Lania said.

Langley replied, “They are
all
drugged. All the fissure People.”

Ed said, “The phar?”

Langley nodded. “It is a wonderfully efficient system that the Weird have devised. The Harvesters are fed the naar husks, which they metabolise and secrete, along with hormones which act as a mind-altering soporific on the Fissure People. This makes them mere drones to the Weirds’ bidding, passive and compliant. Is it little wonder that they smile so much?”

Lania thought of Rahn and how he had gladly stepped to his death – and that, she thought, was the true horror of what happened, the willingness with which he had given himself to the Weird.

“And every month,” Langley was saying, “they transport the Harvester downriver to their subterranean lair and a new one takes its place, and so the cycle starts over. The Harvester ingests the old and the truculent, for despite the phar, occasionally certain Fissure People do raise themselves from their lethargy and protest.” He smiled. “We have managed to save a few, and they live here with us now.”

Lania said, “So the Weird, the Harvesters, all those cycles... the end result is that they do it for food, for human corpses?”

Langley considered her question. “In the early days, when they brought us here, they wanted our knowledge, and physical ingestion was their way of ingesting our collective knowledge also.”

Ed interrupted. “Hold on. When they
brought
you here?”

Langley smiled. “Of course.” He looked at Villic, who nodded silently, and Langley went on, “It is a long story, my friends, and begins when the Weird found the means to pass from their realm into ours.”

“Can you rephrase that in more scientific terms?” Ed asked.

Langley smiled. “Forgive me. I did make it sound mystical.” He paused, then said, “The Weird dwell in a realm that underpins the void, just as the void underpins our reality, or universe. Just as we have learned to breach the void and use it to aid our passage between the stars, so the Weird in their own way found how to locate a weakness in the fabric of their reality and penetrate
through
the void, into this universe.” He parted his hands. “I’m afraid that that’s about as scientific as I can manage. The end result is the same, however it is described. The Weird, having spread throughout their realm, now wish to inhabit ours – and in human beings they have found the perfect species to assist them in this desire.”

Lania said, “You said they brought you here?”

“Over two hundred Terran years ago,” Langley continued, “the Weird broke out of their universe and discovered this one. This planet was uninhabited. But the sixth planet of this system was populated by a race of space-faring aliens called the Kurishen. The Weird observed them for a while – for decades – and then devised a way to use the Kurishen. They infected them with mind-parasites and controlled certain of their numbers, and used them to instigate a war between factions of the Kurishen.”

Lania said, “We saw the results of that war when we entered the system.”

Langley nodded. “The Weird then took the Kurishen’s ships and crewed them with Sleer, then sent them out across Vetch space and into the Expansion.”

“The ship we found on Hesperides,” Ed said, looking at Lania, “the others on Vercors and Tamalkin.”

“There were seven in all sent to human space, and others which landed in Vetch space. On arrival, the Sleer disassembled themselves, broke down into thousands of parasites – mind-parasites, like those they inflicted on the Kurishen. Many of these perished in the unfamiliar atmospheric conditions while waiting for suitable human and Vetch hosts, but many survived and infected the unwitting.”

“On Hesperides,” Lania said, “we found an old Vetch ship beside a crashed Kurishen vessel. The crew of the Vetch ship were dead, shot by one of their own, who had then turned his weapon on himself.”

Langley said, “The Vetch were well ahead of humans in combating the threat of the Weird. They had developed surgically-enhanced telepathy long before us, and they used it to root out those infected by the Weird mind-parasites. The Vetch crew sounds as if it were infected, and the telepath did the only thing possible in the situation.”

Lania shook her head, recalling the mummified Vetch corpses. She stared at the young man. “Vercors,” she said. “A Kurishen vessel came down there. A cult grew up around it.”

“My ancestors formed that cult, abetted by the Weird mind-parasites. They manipulated hundreds of my people, had their leaders form the cult and work towards the grand plan: to take a starship full of colonists through the void to the Devil’s Nebula, where they would live in paradise with the Kurishen. It is testimony to the weakness of the human race that even many of the uninfected believed this.”

“But what did the Weird want with you?” Lania asked.

“Lania,” he said, “you must understand that the Weird do not manipulate matter as we do. They are not a technological race. They are a hive-mind, controlled by a great mother-mind, a vast central nervous system, back in their own realm. They manipulate genes and their own fleshly matter, but their evolution has never needed to manipulate their environment and manufacture machines. So in order to spread themselves across our universe, they must utilise the technology of first the Kurishen and then the Vetch, and now we humans.

“They brought the
Procyon
to this star system in order to study it and its people, to probe their minds so that they might come in time to understand the means by which we worked physical matter. However, there were competing factions aboard the
Procyon
who understood the threat and tried to sabotage the mission. They brought the ship down on Kurishen’s moon, but the Weird boarded the ship and quelled the rebellion and brought the colonists here, to World.”

Langley paused and looked at Villic.

The old man nodded, looking from Lania to Ed and said, “Back in the time before I joined the crew of the
Procyon
, I was an Expansion agent.”

Lania stared, amazed, and tried to work out how old Villic might be.

Villic smiled. “I am over ninety years old – standard years, that is. I’ve actually lost count, as the years on World are much longer than Terran standard. But at any rate, between ninety and a hundred. And I was twenty when I was assigned to infiltrate the Vercors cult and report back to my Expansion paymasters. Which I did, though my story was so... so bizarre that I fear they didn’t believe me.” He paused, smiling as he thought back over the years. “I had the cut when I was eighteen and I was still attempting to hone my ability, to come to terms with what I was.”

Lania stared at him. “The cut?”

She noticed that Ed was smiling, a step ahead of her.

Villic went on, “When I was eighteen, I tested psi-positive and I had the operation to make me telepathic. Then, my ability still weak and almost driven mad by the side-effects of my powers, I was assigned my first case. I infiltrated the cult and discovered that many of their leaders were infected with the Weird parasite. I reported back, but I think my handlers thought me mad. I was determined to prove myself right, and to this end I signed up on the mission aboard the
Procyon
.” He paused, his gaze reflective, then said, “I have led a long and interesting life, here on World.”

Lania thought: he’s a mind-reader. Everything I think, my most private memory, is open to him. She gave a mental shudder, all too aware that he would be reading her involuntary loathing.

To his credit, he didn’t react to her thoughts – if, that is, he was probing her then.

Ed said, “There were com-stacks missing from the
Procyon
and data-needles. Who took these?”

Villic replied, “The infected took them. The Weird have technical facilities deep under World, run by the Fissure People, humans trained by the original settlers in the use of com-technology. It’s all part of the Weird drive to understand our ways.”

Lania saw movement outside the entrance. The Sleer had returned, swinging a globular green fruit in its massive, skinless fist.

She looked across at Villic and asked, “What happened when you were brought to World?”

“The Weird had the area by the fissure cleared and we built the huts and long-houses. They told us what was safe to eat; most of the animals of the jungle contained toxins, which is how we became vegetarian. Then the Weird introduced us to phar, to supplement our diets, and that’s when things began to go wrong. A few of us realised what was happening and we formed a breakaway faction.”

Ed asked, “Did you read the Weird, what they intended?”

Villic shook his head. “I could pick up their mentation – but it was like a language I had no hope of understanding. Over the years I concentrated and learned to recognise the simple emotions of the most basic Weird we had contact with, the Sleer, which is how I can control them now.”

“So that’s why they’re working for you,” Ed said. “It’s nothing to do with their volunteering?”

Villic laughed. “Of course not. They’re Weird through and through, though at this stage of their development they’re simpletons. They’re muscle, no more, in the main controlled by the Weird mother-mind. From time to time I can wrest them away and control them, but only for short periods. Within weeks, they grow in mental strength and overcome my power, or the mother-mind regains control.” He looked through the entrance at the Sleer, which was noisily eating the fruit.

Lania said, “And then?”

“We put them to death,” Villic said, “quickly and painlessly.” He returned his gaze to Ed and Lania. “So we broke away, started separate colonies in the jungle tops. We found that if we hollowed out these grambo fruit, they provided not only good sustenance but wonderful accommodation. At first the Fissure People came after us, and we did fight, but not so that our collective numbers were reduced as much as they would have you believe.”

“And you?” Ed asked. “Did you try to alert them to what was happening?”

“Of course! In the early days we did nothing else. Then they protected the clearing with more and more Sleer and we became wary. We still have successes, however – individual Fissure People who, for whatever reasons, don’t take to the phar and seek another way.”

Ed said, “A girl called Maatja. Her sister told me about her. Her father went to serve the Weird and she followed him.”

The young man, Langley, shook his head. “The chances are that she’ll be picked up by a Sleer and killed.”

Lania looked at Ed. His gaze fell to the floor of the globe, his expression unreadable.

She said, “Do you know why her father was taken?”

Langley said, “They take the brightest and best of the Fissure People from time to time, and have done for decades. We don’t really know what they do with them, other than use them in some way to their own ends.”

Villic went on. “Ten days ago, I mind-captured a Sleer from the edge of Fissure People territory. It had been sent out to gather wood to repair a hut. They’re not that difficult to attract – the promise of food, planted in their heads, the promise of an easy life in the treetops. Anyway, in its simple mind I caught a hint of the collective excitement of the Weird, though perhaps
excitement
is the wrong word. Anticipation, let’s say. They knew that a ship was coming from Expansion territory, a state-of-the-art vessel containing the latest Expansion void-technology.”

Ed Carew closed his eyes.

Lania said, “Our ship?”

Villic nodded. “The
Hawk
.”

Langley said, “The parasites can lie dormant for decades, biding their time. There cannot be many of them still extant in the Expansion, but it only takes a few, strategically placed, to bring about the desired results.”

“Do you know who in the crew are infected?” Ed asked.

“Unfortunately not,” Villic said. “Many Sleer patrol the clearing of late, and I could not get close. Which is why we sent our own Sleer instead, to bring back as many of the newcomers as possible.”

Ed frowned. “And unfortunately you bagged us two.”

Villic smiled. “Admittedly, it would have been more helpful to have captured those infected by mind-parasites – then we would have known who among the others were also carriers. As it is, I have learned much from having you here.”

Lania looked up at the telepath. “Like what?”

“The fact that the Elder, Leah, is taking your people downriver to the lair of the Weird at full sunrise. This is important.”

“It is?” Ed said.

“Those of the crew infected will be carrying information vital to the requirements of the Weird,” Langley said. “Technical information about the
Hawk
, about the Void-space technology – even about the hierarchy of the Expansion authorities.”

“Commander Gorley,” Ed said out loud. He looked across at Lania. “I always thought there was something evil about the bastard.”

She managed a smile. “You hate him because he was a fascist,” she said.

He shrugged. “And now I have all the more reasons to dislike him.”

“The chances are that there will be more than just one carrier,” Langley said. “The Weird would take every opportunity to load the
Hawk
with its agents.”

“Is there any way of telling who might be infected?” Ed said. “Some outward sign?”

“The only sure way to know is to establish mind-to-mind contact,” Villic said. “There are certain signs, but they’re not exclusively pointers to infection. Often the infected individual exhibits mood swings, general moodiness, tendencies towards uncharacteristically intemperate behaviour. But of course these are not always signs of infection.”

Lania asked, “But does the infected person know what they’re carrying?”

“Never in the early stages,” Villic replied. “The parasite manipulates the subject subtly, subconsciously. Only in the later stages, when the Weird makes specific demands on its subject – for instance ordering a subject to defend himself against aggressors – does the subject realise that he or she is being manipulated, but obviously by then it’s too late.”