The Deep Dark Well (31 page)

“So do I,” said Gerasi,
thinking of all the lives lost so far, and the surely more to be lost before
they got out of here.

“Get your boys off of
there as soon as possible,” continued the admiral.  “As small a concern as it
is, they’ve all earned promotions, as well as medals.”

“I’m sure they will
appreciate the prize money even more,” said the colonel. 

If we get back
, thought the admiral. 
That was always the big question.  Prize money was only of use if you lived to
spend it.

Timed passed as the
admiral was left alone with his thoughts, acknowledging with a nod the reports
of his subordinates, but not really paying attention, until the final report
came in.

“The last launch is
aboard, sir,” said one of the com techs.

“Prepare to warp out,”
the admiral ordered.  “All other ships to follow.”

Orca
moved up and over the
Donut
on inertialess drive, lining herself up for escape from the area of the black
hole.  Negative matter rushed from her containment pods, feeding the shield
held in place by the magnetic field.  As soon as the shield was in place she
fired up her drive, tons of antimatter converted to energy, eating the fabric
of space in front of the ship while regurgitating it behind.

Gerasi gripped the arms
of his chair as they entered pseudo light, his muscles tightening in
expectation of the worst.  The system star they were aimed at leapt nearer, as
the feeling of nausea gripped the admiral.  Sapphire, the F5, second system out
from the hole, with the lowest tech level of any system in the Supersystem.

The bridge crew let out
its collective breath.  They had survived the passage.  The other ships
transited in within light minutes of the
Orca
.  None intersected
another.  Within minutes all had reported in.  All that had made it.

“
Lampre
didn’t
make it,” came the report from the com officer. 
Lampre
had been the
third ship to transit.  “The others reported that she imploded as soon as she
had raised her negative matter shield.”

Six survivors
, thought the admiral. 
Three would get back to the home stars, while the other three set up operations
within the system.

“Order all other ships
to close in,” said Gerasi.  “Antimatter transfer to take place immediately. 
Tech transfer as fast as they can move it.”

Yes, he thought. 
Orca
and two others would head for home.  They had used more fuel than had been
planned, and there was only enough to power the three to home.  The other three
would stealth into the system ahead, pick a nice asteroid out of one of its
belts, and start construction on a base of operations.  The
Nation of
Humanity
was here to stay.  They would be back, in force, with logistics
ships, tankers, the works.  And the Supersystem would be theirs.

*     *    *

Vengeance cursed as the
ships disappeared from his display.  They had come and taken what they wanted. 
Oh, he and the automated defense systems had taken a great toll, and the
vagaries of physics had taken more into the dark.  But he had failed in his
purpose, to keep the tech of the station out of the hands of the primitives.

The newcomers sat there
in space, just beyond the reach of the neutronium sphere function of the
graviton beams. 
Surely a different group
, thought the immortal being. 

A wave of nausea washed
over, as heavy fatigue gripped him.  No, he thought.  He couldn’t sleep now. 
Not now.  Blackness pulled him under; the last thought that the new intruders
might make their move while he was away.

*    *    *

“How did we do?” asked
Pandi of the central station computer.  She felt as tired as if she had fought
off all of the enemy marines, instead of merely supervised the robotic forces. 
Something about the link to the computer was very draining.

“Not very well,” said
the machine.  “They escaped with the critical data contained on several of the
maintenance terminals in the service bay.  Of course they do not know what
information they have, but will be able to retrieve and reconstruct it when
they return home.”

“What kind of data? 
Weapons?”

“No weapons,” said the
computer.  “But complete schematics of a class of interstellar capable merchant
ships.  With these schematics they will be able to reproduce the most
sophisticated of interstellar drives, which will give them an impossible
advantage over their enemy.  Also cybernetics technology that will allow them
to construct robots generations ahead of anything they have.”

“Damn,” said Pandi. 
“And they were the anti-alien fanatics, right?  So what do we do?  Can we give
their enemy the same technology?”

“I am not programmed to
give any technology to primitive peoples,” said the computer.

“Even though you
weren’t able to keep their sworn foes from upsetting the balance of power by
stealing technology from the station.”

“I will have to get
orders concerning this complication,” said the computer.

“Oh, get the hell out
of here,” she yelled, her mind willing the station computer to break contact
with her.

“OK,” she said to the
regional system computer, “let’s get to work.  I want access to the central
data banks, and all the information you have on the Watcher Project.”

*    *    *

Watcher awoke on his
bed, confusion clouding his mind for a few moments.  A careful scan showed him
he was in his own quarters.  But the woman was gone.

“Pandi,” he called,
pulling his naked form from the bed.  He could have sworn he still wore his
clothes when he had crawled into the bed.  Had she undressed him, to make him
more comfortable in his sleep?  But she had promised to look over him, and she
was not here.

He accessed his local
net and found he had been out for over twenty-four hours.  It had happened
again.  He had blacked out while his
brother
had full run of the
station.  Why did one always disappear when the other appeared?  His head hurt
at the thought, and a wave of confusing nausea swept over him.  Why had it
always affected him so to even think about it?  Why was he not allowed to put
his full intellect to the solving of the problem that vexed him so?

“Where is the woman
Pandora Latham?” he asked the computer, his mind already thinking the worst.

“The being known as
Pandora Latham is in Hustedean quarters B1 at the present time,” said the
computer.

“Is she OK?”

“Pandora Latham is in
control of the habitat at this time,” said the computer.  “She is surrounded by
robots under her control.”

“What happened while I
was out?”

“Vengeance and Pandora
Latham fought off an attack by the alien intruders who had been waiting to
assault the station.”

“Pandi joined forces
with Vengeance?”

“Not exactly,” said the
computer.  “She ran for safety as soon as she lost contact with you and learned
that Vengeance was looking for her.  She fought her way free of Vengeance’s
forces and gained control of the region of the station she now occupies. 
Coincidentally, that was the region which the alien ships assaulted.”

“Did the aliens get
away with anything?”

 “The aliens, though
taking heavy losses, were able to gain significant sources of technology. 
Enough to progress them hundreds of years past their current level.”

“How in the hell did
they get past our defenses?  Never mind,” he said, walking to his closet to
select the clothing and equipment he would need to travel.

“I want to contact
Pandora Latham.  Now,” he said while he pulled on a jumpsuit and buckled on a
utility belt.

“Watcher, is that you?”
asked the throaty voice of the woman as her image appeared on the holo in the
center of the room.  “Where did you go?  Oh, you don’t know, do you?”  She had
an expression of exasperation on her lovely face.

“I would like to talk
to you,” she continued.  “I’ve learned some fascinating information about your
development.”

“You have,” he said. 
“Like what?”

The holo began to fade
and waver as her voice began to break up.

“Where is the closest gate
to her?” he asked the computer, staring at the holo in dismay.  Had the system
been damaged during the assault?  How else could he explain a system that had
never shown any indications of trouble doing so now?

“The nearest gate is in
the administrator’s office, approximately ten kilometers from her current
location.”

“Which means I go to
the administrator’s office five kilometers from here, then through the terminal
room,” he said, gathering the rest of his equipment, making sure that the
holstered AM blaster was attached to his belt.  “Order a full platoon of robots
to meet me in the office.  If I’m going out of my stronghold I want at least
sufficient body guards for safety.”

“I’ll be coming to you,
if that’s OK?” he said to the flickering holo.  Her head nodded, but he could
not make out anything her lips said.

“I’ll be there in a
half hour at the outside,” he said to the image, before walking out of the
room.  A trio of robots fell in beside him as he walked down the hall.  Exiting
through the main entrance, he walked across the large room to a bank of lifts. 
A robot preceded him, protecting him like a child.  He stepped in and shot
upwards quickly, as the following robots stepped in behind.  He hoped the
system never malfunctioned while he was in it, or he might find himself
sandwiched between a stationary robot and one approaching at high speed from
below.

Three kilometers up and
the lift pushed him out into another large room, the lobby of an old corporate
office.  The first robot stood guard.  Numbers two and three came up right
behind him and fanned out through the room.  A door on the far wall opened and
a dozen robots filed out, forming up around Watcher in a protective cover.  He
knew the rest would join as he got to the administrators office. 

It was all a walk from
here, down the long corridor that had been a main promenade for office workers
in ages past.  Restaurants, workout rooms, shops and recreation centers opened
along the way.  The
Donut
had once been the corporate headquarters for
the hundred biggest conglomerates in the old Galactic Empire, as well as tens
of thousands of smaller operations.   Once this promenade had swarmed with
sentient creatures of dozens of species, at all hours of the artificially
imposed twenty-four hour business cycle.

More robots fell in
along the way, most of them heavily armed with assault rifles of the latest
design.  He would have liked to take a couple of heavy combat models with him
as well, but that might have spooked Pandora.  And the gates he would take were
not big enough for them anyway.

After a long walk he
entered another large lobby, this one for the governmental offices of this
section of the
Donut
.  Through a couple of large offices, looking as if
they had been recently cleaned and readied for the next shift.  They had been
cleaned, Watcher knew, and well maintained, as was everything on the station. 
Almost as if they hadn’t been deserted for over a thousand years.

A coded thought opened
the door to the luxurious office of the regional administrator.  Only the
station governor’s office was better appointed, and of course the guest offices
for VIPs from the Imperial Government.  The corner of the huge desk opened at a
touch, as his long finger pushed the button coded to respond only to his living
fingerprint.  A heavy panel slid open, revealing the mirrored surface of a
wormhole gate.  This was much smaller than those in the transit corridors. 
Only three meters by two.  A couple of dozen robots entered as he looked at the
gate, ensuring that everything was functioning properly.

A squad of robots
jumped through the gate, disappearing in small flashes of light as they
instantaneously traversed space.  One came back through, signaling that all was
well before jumping through again.  Watcher stepped into the gate, feeling an
instant of disorientation, his foot stepping out onto the floor of the gate
confluence room.  He quickly stepped out of the way as the rest of the robots
came through behind him one by one.

The room was filled
with gates.  Most were not coded to prevent any specific being from using
them.  That was taken care of by restricting the access at the administrators’
offices.  His gate was, and no one could get to his region through this secret
system without his approval.  He knew there were a couple he could not use,
locked out against the use of anyone but their long dead users.  But he found
the one for the Hustedean region Pandi had occupied, indicator lights showing
it was open.  Maybe she hadn’t learned about all of the control she had through
her regional link?  Maybe she would soon learn about the private gate system
and shut her opening down.

At a signal the squad
of scouting robots went through the gate.  Again one came back to give the all
clear.  Watcher stepped through, followed by his reinforced platoon.  This
office was much like the last one, only the furnishings different to
accommodate the different physiologies of the Husteds.