Death to the Imperium (Imperium Cicernus) (6 page)

“Do
you have that much money?” Doland said.

Tekka
nodded. “I was arrested after stealing five billion credits, remember. That
does not mean that they reclaimed the money. I had already transferred the
funds into a thousand anonymous accounts by that time.”

Glitz
could hardly believe it. Five billion credits…

“I’ll
do it,” Shaitana said, “but I want a billion credits.”

Tekka
frowned. “No,” he said icily.

“You’ll
die unless you have the procedure!” Shaitana said.

“Be
that as it may,” Tekka said, without losing his composure. “The price is a
million credits. If that is not enough, I am sure I can find another scientist
somewhere in the galaxy to carry out the procedure.”

Shaitana
frowned, but it was clearly checkmate. He could really do with the million credits.

“Fine,”
Shaitana said. “This way.”

He
led the three men into the second lab, and lifted a large contraption off one
of the tables, creating room for them to lie down. They lied down on their
backs, facing the gravity globes. Shaitana wrote down their names. Glitz felt a
little nervous, but he knew the procedure was necessary. Besides, he knew that
Doland was far more nervous. Tekka lied on the table calmly, showing no hint of
emotion.

“So
you’re a professor?” Glitz said.

“Oh,
no,” Shaitana said, laughing. “I’m self-taught.”

“Oh,
right,” Glitz said, not at all encouraged by that information.

Shaitana
started by administering Thranitol, a general anaesthetic, to his three patients.
Within seconds, they were all fully unconscious. Then Shaitana unbuttoned their
shirts and checked their heartbeats and blood pressure. All normal. Satisfied,
he then took a skin sample from each man. The transmogrification process was
much easier to perform on Traals, the native life form of Mazaroth, because
they had nucleated blood cells. This meant he could just use a blood sample as
the starting point. But human red blood cells contained no nucleus, so skin
cells had to be used, which were far harder to adjust.

Keeping
the skin samples carefully separated in different covered petri dishes,
Shaitana took the first one—which contained Tekka’s cells—and placed it into
the sequencer. The screen showed a DNA molecule, and Shaitana began his work. He
knew he could alter over 98% of the molecule’s structure without causing any changes
in the actual chemical makeup of the animal. The problem was, if he changed any
of the code in that remaining 2%, the patients might end up with three arms, or
hands instead of eyes. Shaitana painstakingly made superficial changes to the
DNA samples of the three men, and then suspended the samples in a bio-neutral
solution called Harrison’s fluid. He went on to add a nanoliquid to each
solution. Finally, crossing his fingers for luck, Shaitana injected the
completed solution into each of the men’s arms…

The
men’s muscles began to twitch violently, and their faces became convulsed by
terrible spasms. Shaitana knew they couldn’t feel any pain, but he had always
hated that particular stage of the process. And it had been a very long time
since he had last performed a transmogrification. He hoped that he had
remembered every stage correctly…

Finally,
the convulsions stopped, and Shaitana peered at them. They
looked
normal
enough… He took another skin sample from each man, and prepared to analyse each
one using the synthesizer. The first sample was Doland’s…
oh no.
The DNA
molecule was not registering as human. Shaitana felt a horrible sinking
feeling. He knew he shouldn’t have carried out the procedure, even for a
million credits. He must have carried out a stage of the process incorrectly.
He placed Tekka’s skin sample into the sequencer, and was relieved when it
showed up as normal. When he came to check Glitz’s DNA, his was registering as normal
too. The genetic deviation was enough to help them avoid identification, but
not enough to register as inhuman. But why had Doland’s procedure had such an
effect? He didn’t
look
like anything was the matter with him. Perhaps
the change was internal. Maybe Doland now had three stomachs instead of a
heart. Or maybe he had eyes instead of lungs. He would only find out when he
tried to wake him. With much trepidation, Shaitana injected the men with the
chemical that would wake them up. Slowly, the three men sat up.

“Is
that it?” Doland said.

Shaitana
nodded slowly. “How… how do you feel?”

“Fine,”
Glitz said, shrugging.

“We
are all well,” Tekka said, climbing off the bed. “Thank you. I trust it is safe
for us to leave straight away?”

Shaitana
paused. He knew he should tell the men what had happened. But there didn’t seem
to be anything the matter with Doland. The man looked perfectly healthy;
according to the medical scanner, his breathing and heart rate were absolutely
normal. And he needed those credits…

“Of
course,” Shaitana said. “The process was 100% successful.”

Tekka
nodded, flexing his wrists. “Excellent. What is your credit number?”

“Er…
better put it in my secret account.” Shaitana gave Tekka his credit number.

Tekka
closed his eyes for a moment. “There. Check your credit account. I have just
transferred the payment.”

The
white-haired man checked his account using his tablet. The money had been
transferred successfully.

“Thank
you,” Shaitana said.

Tekka
nodded, and the three men walked back into the main lab. When Tekka stepped
into the tunnel, a gravitational force dragged him up through the chute,
dropping him outside the entrance to the house. Glitz and Doland followed after
him, and then the three men were all back outside in the Elder Village.

“Do
you want to have a look around?” suggested Glitz. “Enjoy some old memories?”

“There
are no memories for me to enjoy here,” Tekka said. “Let’s go.”

The
three men hiked back across the expansive desert towards their ship. The anaesthetic
chemical had now completely worn off, and they were feeling fully alert again.
Glitz didn’t understand exactly what Shaitana had done to them, but he
certainly didn’t feel any different. Somehow, the word
transmogrify
seemed
to conjure up images in his mind of strange or grotesque transformations.

“I
thought I’d feel different,” he said.

Tekka
held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “Of course not. Did you know
that human beings share around 98% of their DNA with bonobos and chimps? And we
share 50% of our DNA with a banana. The devil is in the detail. That tiny 2% of
DNA is what really makes us what we are. The remaining code, while not
absolutely redundant, does not define us.”

“So
we’re unidentifiable now, right?” Doland said. “You know, I’m not too keen on
being executed. What if Shaitana just took the money and lied to us?”

Tekka
shook his head, tapping his skull. “No. I scanned. My neurochip is not
sophisticated enough to run a full DNA examination, but my genetic code
registers as different. We have been changed. Our DNA should now be
sufficiently altered so that we cannot be identified.”

“Should?”
Doland said. “Should?”

Tekka
ignored him. Once they were back on the ship, Glitz began to relax a little.
The grey flight deck was pleasantly cool after the heat of the planet Mazaroth.
Tekka began to operate the controls.

“Where
are we heading?” Glitz said. “I mean, is it safe for us to return to civilisation?”

“Yes,
I believe so,” Tekka said. “Of course, you will both have to move to a
different planet and adopt new identities, but I know a man that can help you
out in that respect.”

“And
what about you?” Doland said.

“I
do not intend to return to civilisation,” Tekka said simply. He paused, staring
at the computer terminal. Glitz glanced over at the screen; incomprehensible
figures were scrolling across it. “We have a slight problem,” Tekka went on. “I
have just been examining the inventory. It seems we are very low on food and
water purification filters.”

“There
must be a supplies asteroid open somewhere,” Doland said.

Tekka
nodded. “Quite possibly, but there may be another solution. Take a look.”

The
man brought up an image on the main screen. They had left their orbit around
Mazaroth, and were now moving away from the Upsilon System. A black object was drifting
through space, beyond the reach of any large gravitational forces. There were
no signals coming from the ship, no signs of life.

“Is
that… a ship?” Doland said.

Tekka
nodded. “I have tried to scan it. The engines are inactive, and there seems to
be no power to most of the ship. I cannot make out any signs of life, but that
may be because they are well-shielded. The hull has clearly not been breached.”

“How
long do you think it’s been here?” Glitz said, staring at the shape.

“A
few weeks, perhaps. Maybe more.” Tekka sighed. “I imagine that a fault on the
ship led to the power loss. Without sufficient power, the occupants of that
craft can have no way to break free from their inertia.”

Doland
tapped his finger on the main computer panel. “So what are you saying?”

“I
am suggesting that we help the other ship. We can dock with the ship—wearing
oxygen suits, of course—and look for any survivors.”

“And
why would we do that?” Doland said.

“Because
they might have supplies to give us,” Glitz said. “You heard Tekka—we’re
running low on food and water. And… well… if they
are
dead… they won’t
be needing their provisions, will they?”

“Precisely,”
Tekka said. He glanced at Doland. “You can remain on the ship. It is too
hazardous for all three of us to go.”

Doland
nodded. He looked quite relieved that he wasn’t expected to go along.

“How
are we going to dock?” Glitz asked. “If they
are
dead, they won’t be
able to authorise us. And even if they aren’t, we might find it hard to make
them trust us.”

“I
am hoping that their ship is programmed to allow any Imperial vessel to dock in
the event of a crisis,” Tekka explained. “If so, we will have no issue. If not…
well, my neurochip should be able to get us aboard.”

“Right,”
Glitz said. “Where are the oxygen suits?”

They
left the flight deck and entered the floor. The dimensions of the ship seemed
almost identical to the one that had taken them to Malus, but the floor was not
filled with vidscreens and other diversions. It was bare and empty. They
discovered the spacesuits in a storage room down the corridor that led to the
officers’ lounge, along with oxygen packs. Glitz and Tekka climbed into the
suits and returned to the flight deck.

“Ready?”
Glitz said.

Tekka
picked up two laser weapons and handed one of them to Glitz. “These are ZK-99s,
standard Imperial blasters. They are not particularly easy to aim, but they can
easily deliver a lethal blow.”

Glitz
examined the weapon. “Know a lot about guns, do you?”

Tekka
simply nodded. He had been right about the boarding protocols; the ship granted
automatic boarding permission, and Tekka carefully aligned the docking ports.
Within minutes of docking, the two men had stepped aboard the other ship.

“This
is creepy,” Glitz said, looking around. The interior of the ship was utterly
dark, and he couldn’t see anyone around. “Looks like it’s empty.”

Tekka
used his neurochip to scan the ship’s atmosphere. The oxygen level was quite
low, but acceptable. Fortunately, the gravity was still normal, even thought
there was no power to the ship; it must have had a flywheel mechanism that kept
gravity for a while after a power loss. After a power failure, flywheels would
only continue to operate for a few weeks. That meant the ship couldn’t have
been powerless for very long…

He
turned off his oxygen, removed his helmet, and gestured for Glitz to do the
same. Glitz removed the seal from his helmet, there was a small hiss, and he
screwed it off. The air on the ship smelled musty, and the only light was
coming from bioluminescent plants that were growing around the flight deck.

“Let
me see if I can restore the power,” Tekka said. He stepped over to the control
panels, switched the computer to emergency power, and began to examine the
readings. His frown deepened. “That can’t be right…”

“What?”
Glitz said.

“All
readings are normal. The engines are operational, the shields are intact…
everything is in full working order.”

Tekka
pulled a lever on the side of the wall, and the lights flickered on; Glitz had
to squint in the sudden brightness. Light flashed on several panels as all the
equipment rebooted. Everything seemed clean and shiny—it seemed to be a new
ship.

“You
see? Everything is working.”

“But…
where are the crew?”

“There
are no life signs aboard. This ship is totally empty. Perhaps the crew left in
the escape pods.” He checked another reading. “Yes, it seems that all of the
escape pods have been taken.”

Glitz
shuddered. What could have possibly caused the crew to evacuate? The ship was
in perfect condition.

“You
sure there are no life signs on board?”

“Positive.”

Glitz
didn’t feel comforted. Something must have frightened the crew. But what?

“Let’s
just grab the supplies and get the hell out of here,” Glitz said.

Putting
down their helmets on the flight deck, they opened the bulkhead door and
stepped into the corridor. The entire ship was eerily quiet, with no noise
apart from the whirr of the electronic lighting and life support. Tekka
switched on the communication feature of his neurochip and spoke to Doland on
the other ship, informing him that they had arrived safely and should be back
shortly. Tekka then used one of the wall panels to access a schematic of the
ship’s design. Using his finger, he traced out the quickest route to the main
storage bay, and beckoned Glitz to follow him. They entered the main storage
area, which was filled with countless crates of provisions. They opened a few of
them and discovered assortments of dry foodstuffs, water, oxygen packs, particle
weapons, hull repair kits, gravity boots… the variety of useful items was
amazing.

“We’ll
have to make a few trips,” Glitz said, grinning.

Tekka
looked uneasy, but said nothing. They decided to take a crate of food and water
filters first, and then return for the other provisions. Carrying a crate each,
they returned to the other ship, and then went back again to pick up more
items.

“It’s
amazing that they left all this stuff,” Glitz muttered, looking at the
remaining cargo. “It must be worth at least fifty thousand credits.”

“That’s
what worries me,” Tekka said. “Think about it. What could possibly warrant the
abandonment of such expensive supplies?”

“There
could be some sort of danger here,” Glitz admitted, looking around as he said
it, as if expecting some monster to come lurching out of the air ducts on cue.

“Perhaps.”
Tekka nodded. “Or perhaps this is a trap. On some primitive planets in the Rim,
the inhabitants have a problem with a small mammal called a
mouse
. To
deal with the mice, devices called
mousetraps
are used. These
contraptions usually consist of a spring-loaded metal bar, along with a piece
of cheese as bait. As soon as the vermin tries to take the cheese, the trap is
activated and the bar snaps over the animal, breaking its neck or spinal cord.”

“Nice,”
Glitz said.

“But
do you not see?” Tekka said. “What if this ship is the mousetrap, and these
provisions the cheese?”

Glitz
glanced around at the abandoned supplies, as if seeing them in a new light.

“OK,”
Glitz said, starting to feel uneasy. “Let’s make this our last trip. But we’ll
carry as much as we possibly can. Look—pick up one of those giant crates and
we’ll…” He tailed off, staring at the walls of the ship.