Authors: Rafael
The Huntsman (30 page)
“As Carthage negotiated with Rome, my forebears with Britain, the
Indians and the whites, the weak cannot negotiate with the strong. We must
accept what is given and unlike the others, bide our time. If we manage to
escape detection and grow powerful, it won’t matter if they do or do not.”
“The Lord Counselor is right. It is a fair bargain and in our
interests to accept. Take it.” Clara urged.
“Ariel?”
“You are right, Janesh. The weak have no leverage. Accept the
terms.”
“Narsimha?”
“I am young enough to think I know what to suggest and old enough
to know I do not. I will support whatever decision you make, Mahān
Śikārī.”
“Miranda?”
“We are not the weak. Face to face, we defeated Kreetor. This race
fled and abandoned their home. Perhaps it bluffs. Ask it why Kreetor’s Seer did
not immobilize us as his has done. Something does not add up. The answer may
give us insight. If any of us find objection with its response, blink rapidly.
Otherwise, I agree. It is in our interest to accept. We cannot yet defend
ourselves against the technologies and creatures in those images.”
“Lord Counselor, we are ready.”
“You may speak before the Lord Counselor.”
“I have two questions. Is your only restriction that we not
utilize gate technology until we can defend our planet against attack?”
“That is correct, Mahān Śikārī. We will
undertake no action that interferes with your internal affairs. Our reasons are
not what you might think. We are not motivated by any grandiose notions of
freedom and self-determination. We wish to study and observe a unique life
form, in its natural habitat, without external influence. There is much we may
learn.”
“Why did Kreetor simply not immobilize us? As you have done.”
“We are not perfect, Mahān Śikārī. We are not
gods. Your discovery sharpened internal divisions. Nine thousand years of
obscurity and peace dulled and fattened us. Many of us warned against continued
indolence. Your beam across the sector shocked us out of our stupor. Once again
the danger of imminent attack became real. As it had always been but which
accumulated carelessness and desire for leisure and convenience had allowed us
to ignore.
On Sorke there are five intelligences. The Jowkla, Kreetor’s race,
are the least…able. But because they are large and powerful, they guard the
crèche and provide personal security. In order to guard against errors in
judgment, however, we derogate its Seer’s functions. In the panicked aftermath
of learning an unknown civilization in our sector had gate technology, we sent
the most powerful Warrior Priestess to gather intelligence and if possible
destroy the device and those with knowledge of it. And in rushed haste we
neglected to restore its impaired Seer.
Meanwhile we called out the Roshoon, our combat warriors, to rise
in defense of sacred Sorke. Much dismay and accusation ensued when it became
clear prolonged neglect had left our military woefully unprepared. A condition
undergoing rapid correction.
When we learned the truth of your world, the Most Watchful and
Learned Ssah sent me to form a pact with beings evolved for war and conquest.
We do not ignore your nature or your history. We do not “trust”. Should you
feel the need to betray our agreement, you will not find Sorke a defenseless
morsel.”
Janesh glanced at his colleagues. No one blinked. “Is the offered
Seer derogated?” Its beak opened. Torso feathers fluffed in successive waves.
Chuckle, laughter, pleasure?
“It is restored.”
“I accept the terms of our agreement and accept this Seer as a
symbol of our alliance. May it well serve us both.”
“You are indeed a clever race. Already the blessings of wisdom and
prudence bestowed by Ssah of the High Council, Grand Dominant of the Unwinged,
Ruler of Sorke, have…” It paused. The Seer glowed orange. “as you say, borne
fruit.”
The Sorken turned and strode from the circle. The air before it
began to bubble. “Lord Counselor.” Janesh called. Its head swiveled round. “Is
there a God?”
“Again I warn against distractions. Do not fail your species,
Mahān Śikārī. The galaxy it exists in is wild, brutal, unforgiving.
Merciful and compassionate beings once occupied worlds left ruined, desolate,
abandoned. Rely not on such philosophies. Life forms that do become extinct…or
pets.” The Lord Counselor turned and disappeared.
Forefinger pressed against his cheek, Bert listened to his
department chief summarize the mission brief. Half-way across the world Unit
Four’s 12-man team trekked through dense forest. He leaned forward to flip a
page from the open case file atop his desk, scanned across it.
“And they’ll have India’s R&AW in a backup role?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But without helicopters.”
“That’s right, sir. Having a foreign strike team within their
borders stretched their tolerance but having helicopters overfly their biggest
Tiger Reserve risked a huge backlash if the environmentalist opposition found
out.”
“ETA?”
“Two maybe three days. They’re hiking through really rugged
terrain without local help since it is a classified operation. Their best guide
is GPS. Satellite imagery cannot penetrate dense foliage. Maps provide a
generalized overview but the sector they’re in is mostly animal trails and wood
paths. The DCI flipped another page.
“Risk assessment?”
“Well, sir, it’s not as if they’re helpless or less capable
overland. They train extensively in the woods and are as comfortable there as
any other environment. The Indian agents are simply a worst case scenario if
they need support pulling out. We have great confidence in the target
intelligence, sir. Six scientists and a student engineer are in the camp.
Resistance should be minimal if not zero.” The Director snorted.
“These the same scientists that have been running rings around
your department, John? They might have us right where they want us, a fiasco
waiting to happen.”
Ears red, his Deputy Commissioner had the good sense not to
respond. The DCI flipped another page. “What about this Nicholas Koh?”
“Indian intelligence has him pinpointed. What we find in the camp
will determine what action we take against him.”
“And the two civilians we had under contract?”
“We have solid intelligence they’re in the camp.”
“So except for Koh, you’ve got everyone involved corralled.”
“Correct, sir.”
“Um hm. I briefed the President in broad detail on this case. He
agrees the device must be the reason we’ve got dead agents. I’m determined to
find out what it is. Don’t make me go back to the Oval Office hat in hand.”
“No, sir, I won’t.”
“You’ll be in the operations room monitoring?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Keep me posted.”
He watched his Deputy exit then turned to stand by the window.
Damn it. What could that device be? No one even had good guesses. He couldn’t
escape a nagging feeling he knew only the tip of a bigger iceberg. Hands in
pockets, the right one found some loose change. He pulled it out. Eighteen
cents. A dime, a nickel, and three pennies. His neck hairs rose. Something
moved behind him.
He whirled to find a near-naked, powerfully muscled man inside his
office. Inside his office? How was that possible? The absurdity swelled. He
leveled a spear at him. A spear? Coins clattered to the floor. Some rolled
away. Their dying rotations echoed in the room’s stillness. The spear point
pressed against his chest.
“Step away from the desk, sir, out here to the middle of the
office.” Bert could not smooth his jumbled, jangled thoughts into coherent
sense. A random connection struggled through. A photo image from the case file
surfaced. He recognized the articulate savage. “You’re, you’re Janesh McKenzie.
How did you get in here?” Bert stupidly stared at his bare feet, muddying the
area carpet.
Janesh smiled, raised his spear, recalled the Lord Counselor.
“Confine yourself to the matter at hand, Director, and not with distractions.
At this moment a CIA hit squad is in a remote and isolated section of an Indian
Tiger Reserve. You have the power to recall them. I’m here to urge you to do
that.”
The Director shook his head, stammered, still trying to reassemble
a shattered reality. “I, I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can, Director. Pick up the phone and abort the mission.”
Bert gained a semblance of control. Moved to regain the initiative.
“And if I don’t?”
“You have sent twelve men into the wild. If you do not recall
them, they will be dead within hours. In that part of the forest it will be
difficult to find their bodies. By the time you do there may be nothing left. I
assure you, Director. They have no chance to accomplish their mission. Recall
them immediately.”
Bert thought of the President, his promise, his career, the
Agency’s reputation, John, their technology, their reach, their power. Resolve
washed over him. “I can’t do that. I won’t do that.” The spear point again
lowered.
“Turn around, Director.” He did, trying to quiet the nerves
anticipating a spear thrust. A spear?
Silence echoed the room. He twisted his head around. His body
followed, head snapping in all directions. He rushed to open the door. Stared
down the empty corridor. His assistant calmly tapped a keyboard. He ran down.
“Did you see anyone walk out my office?” A confused face framed
narrowed eyes.
“No, sir. No one walked out. No one went in there.”
Bert walked back inside then bent down to the area carpet. He
rose, staring into space, rubbing wet mud between his fingers. Eyes refocused
on the desktop. He paled. The case file had also disappeared.
CHAPTER
47 Outside Interference
Thirty minutes of warm hugs, embraces, good luck wishes, and a few
tears ended. Ariel winked through first. “Probably already explaining to a
surprised wife his unexpected return.” Dimitrov imagined.
“I’m nervous.” Clara said.
“Don’t be.” Dimitrov urged. “You won’t feel a thing. It’s just
walking.”
“And you’re sure I’ll be in Buenos Aires?” He smiled and nodded.
She turned to hug Miranda once more, waved, and stepped through. Dimitrov and
Narsimha followed. Gary took Miranda’s hand.
“Thank you, my dear, for giving a retired professor the adventure
of a life time.” Filled with thoughts of her own pending separation, she
managed to smile as he shook Janesh’s hand and stepped in.
Miranda faced the moment and turned to Janesh. Her voice almost
broke. “Don’t tell me you’ll be alright because you don’t know that.” She
grabbed his face between her hands, kissed him fierce and full. Pulling back,
she clutched his shoulders and shook. “Don’t do something stupid, Janesh
McKenzie.” Miranda rushed away and winked out.
Janesh stared at the spot long after the air stopped bubbling. He
wanted nothing more than to follow her. How had it come to this? He had killed
an alien and become Earth’s protector. His gaze turned upward. “I have not abandoned
you, Lord Vishnu. Walk with me as I step into uncertainty.” He placed the Seer
in his pouch and wrenched the spear end from the ground. “Come.” With Duncan
and Ronan loping ahead on either flank, the three headed for the tree line.
The group had resisted leaving until he showed them the case file
classified Top Secret by the Central Intelligence Agency. It had authorized the
unit headed their way to employ any and all interrogation techniques necessary
to determine the machine’s function. If in their judgment the device presented
a national security threat to the United States, the unit would secure the
machine and terminate with prejudice all seven. Their ambitions differed from
Nicholas Koh’s only in having forms signed by bureaucrats with boxes checked
‘Approved’. When Miranda looked up from reading the single paragraph his
expression left no doubt she had to leave and their future would not include
his constant glancing behind them.
The seven had agreed however, not to destroy the wormhole device. The
Seer had transported it to an inaccessible cave without disclosing where. On it
they had posted a message crediting Joshua Ang along with their names and date.
“In testament to humanity’s continued technological innovation and scientific
achievement.”
Janesh maintained a deceptive pace through the overgrown forest.
Having to bend, stoop, step over, push past, cut through, twist around dense
undergrowth appeared to slow progress. But hour after hour, steady, unflagging
stamina chewed up the miles. Though game trails and animal paths would have
permitted quicker advance, he avoided them and the tigers waiting to ambush
unsuspecting meals. He could of course cross the distance in an instant but so
far the dogs had shied away from entering and he would not force the issue.
Pure, physical labor left him free to ponder the Seer. It had yet
to become an integrated, automatic option. Unlike the synchronized unity he and
the dogs had become, the sphere required thought. In a moment of decision,
unconscious reflex trumped conjecture. He reached in to remove it. The sphere
always felt cool to the touch and its surface never smudged or smeared.
“Seer, can you locate my six friends?” It winked out and returned
after three seconds.
“Yes, Mahān Śikārī.” The action surprised
Janesh. He had expected some type of ‘scan’ not for it to go somewhere.
“Can you locate a given individual?”
“On this planet my answer is perhaps. If an individual has a
communicator the probability is 96%.”
“Why not 100%?”
“The communicator and person may not be in proximity.”
“And so you have to physically go to the communicator’s location?”
“Correct, Mahān Śikārī.”
Janesh pushed aside a hanging branch appreciating the Seer had
taken three seconds to locate six communicators separated across the globe.
“And if someone does not have a communicator?”
“I must then scan geographically relevant data for home and
employment.”
“How do you access such diverse data sources?”
“Internally.” The unexpected response floored Janesh.
“You store employment and housing data internally?”
“As it is created, I store your entire planet’s digital data.”
“What about encrypted data?”
“The encryption methods used are insufficient to prevent my
access.”
Janesh stopped to stare at his hand. The tennis-ball sized sphere
stored all the data held within millions of servers across the globe.
“What is your storage capacity?”
“Unlimited.”
“Using what mechanism?” It briefly glowed orange.
“You have no equivalent technology. Quantum storage best describes
it.”
Awe washed over Janesh. Sub-atomic data storage and retrieval. He
pulled his hand from under it and resumed his advance. The Seer followed.
“How do you float?”
“I am not floating but using the same principle as your movie
films. The eye is tricked into seeing motion by a series of stills displayed at
speed. Every ten thousandths of a second I move through a gate, wormhole as you
call them. Stepping in and out of space/time so quickly, I appear to ‘float’.”
Janesh shook his head at the technological gulf between Sorke and
Earth. One displayed magic on a movie screen. The other accessed the quantum
universe to do so.
When Homo sapiens had yet to expand out of Africa, Sorkens had
crossed the galaxy. Still, the speed with which humans had achieved wormhole
capability had impressed them enough to offer an alliance. He wondered how long
it would take Earth to close the gap caused by what the Lord Counselor
described as Sorken ‘indolence’. Centuries at least but would we then attack?
History gave small comfort.
Overhead, a near impenetrable canopy had left the forest floor
parched for sunlight and thinned of undergrowth. Farther up Duncan and Ronan
alternated between nose-to-the ground and side-to-side visual scans. Their pace
quickened.
“What color are my eyes, Seer?”
“Amber brown, Mahān Śikārī.”
“You’re behind me. Did you already make note of them?”
“You are genetically coded for amber-brown eyes.” Remarkable,
Janesh thought.
“Can you see?”
“Not as you do.” It glowed orange. “Similar to your bats and
dolphins, I use high-frequency ultrasounds to echolocate. Combined with
infrared thermal imaging, I can create highly detailed images that provide
identification and distance.”
“Can we communicate at long range?”
“Not at present, Mahān Śikārī”. You have no
communicator or implanted receiver. I can be farther away but you must be
within hearing distance.”
Janesh cautioned himself. He possessed Earth’s most powerful
machine with capabilities as yet undiscovered or even imagined. So completely
had this alien-programmed wonder shifted the paradigm, his limited
understanding and experience with the instrument might backfire. Prudence
warranted its use.
Still, grim satisfaction held sway. As so often before, he,
Duncan, and Ronan would face the coming struggle together. He stopped to hold
the spear with two hands vertically before him and lean his forehead against
it. Eyes closed, he listened to the wind rustle the trees and waited for the
forest to embrace him.
“Protect
me, Lord Vishnu, that I may protect my friends. But if not take me not them.”
Refreshed
and renewed, Janesh moved through the woods—swift, sure, silent. Duncan and
Ronan sensed the mood, became noiseless wraiths scouting the front. Hours
became minutes, miles became yards. The Seer confirmed Unit Four remained
stationary. They circled downwind where Janesh crept within twenty feet.
“Okay,
hold it. This’ll look great over my mantle.” Janesh nudged aside a leafy twig.
Two men holding weapons stood on either side of a dead tiger hanging from a
branch by its hind legs. The picture-taker switched with one who took another.
Photo-op done, two commandos stripped off their tops and pulled out bayonets.
One lifted the head and began cutting. “Be careful, Steve. Don’t ruin it.”
“Relax.
I’ve taken off plenty moose heads for mounting.” The other began sawing off
paws for tabletop decorations. A mile away the dogs had come upon two tiger
cubs perhaps a month old. These three had come upon the mother. Around the
makeshift camp six others lounged or dozed, ignoring the mutilation. Three more
guarding the perimeter had not detected their presence. Cold fury raised the
hairs along Janesh’s spine. The Lord Counselor’s warning not to fail rang
clear. In microcosm the scene aped galactic truth. Species superiority had a
parallel—arrogance.
Janesh
slipped away unseen and unheard. Unit Four, preferring to move at night, would
not decamp until dusk. Janesh felt confident the unit would close on the site
then launch a predawn assault. With hours to go, he had time to plan—and act
appropriately.
*
* *
Whispered transmissions left the still night undisturbed. “Tiger1
this is Ranger1. We have camp in sight.”
“Roger Ranger1, hold position.”
A quarter mile behind point, the Team Leader switched to a
satellite phone. He pressed transmit and waited for encryption to lock the
phone to Langley’s operation center. The status light flashed steady green.
“TopHat, Tiger1. TopHat this is Tiger 1.” He toned the static hiss down.
“TopHat this is Tiger1.”
“Roger Tiger1, this is TopHat. Hold.” Halfway across the globe the
Operations Chief cycled through stations confirming they had a green status. An
overhead satellite would confirm twelve position signals. They probably had the
Deputy Commissioner present to provide final clearance. While his fingers
silently drummed the ground, he wondered if his wife would object to having a
tiger’s head over the mantle.
“Tiger1 this is TopHat. You are mission go, repeat you are…”
Static replaced speech. The Team Leader tapped a finger against the radio’s
casing.
“TopHat this is Tiger1. Confirm mission go.” Fingers resumed their
drumming. “TopHat this is Tiger1. Confirm mission go. “TopHat, Tiger1. Confirm
mission go.”
Crackle and pops hissed over the open channel. He shut off the
unit and switched to the point-to-point intercom. No alarm bells clamored.
Satellite links came and went. Could be atmospheric disturbance, solar flare,
loose transistor. Hell, a bird might have crapped on Langley’s antennae.
Besides, TopHat had cleared a go. He hadn’t come six thousand miles to abort on
a dropped radio confirm. His earpiece sounded a tone when it linked to the
point man. He pressed the mike closer.
“Ranger1, Tiger1.”
“Go ahead, Tiger1”
“Mission go. We’re coming up on your six. Status?”
“All quiet, no movement. Camp asleep. Probable device ID in camp
center.”
“Roger, Tiger1 out.”
He hand-signaled Steve, twenty yards away, to move his six-man line
up to the point. Interspersed seven across and wearing thermal imagers, the
night swallowed them into the undergrowth. He waited for his communications
specialist, the paw collector, to repack the radio gear. Together they would
hold the rear command position.
Twenty minutes later he came up alongside his point man. From ten
yards inside the tree line he peered out across the clearing. Nothing moved.
Five huts framed dead spots in the imagers. His whisper matched the night’s
quiet. “Take your team across, 50-yard interval. Let’s find out who’s inside
those huts. If anything happens, that device has priority.”
The point man clicked the intercom to position his two and three.
Seconds later three men crouched low emerged from the woods. The Team Leader
scanned left to right. Three thermals filled his imager. Langley operations
watched three signals separate toward the camp center. Halfway across, the images
disappeared. The Team Leader tapped his imager. Switched it on and off. Gave it
a harder knock. Great, he thought. The thermals died. What else? At Langley,
three signals continued across the clearing.
“Striker1, Tiger1.” He waited. “Striker1, Tiger1. Steve, you read
me?” He switched over to the radioman. “CommSpec, Tiger1. CommSpec, you read
me?” What the hell? His radioman too? He turned around to make his way to the
strike line where he found Steve fiddling with his imagers. “My thermals are
down. Hell of a time, isn’t it?”
“So are mine. So is the point-to-point intercom I think. Can you
reach your men?” Steven cycled through six call signs. Only static hissed
through the open transmitter. “Damn. Re-establish manual contact with your
line. Everybody meet back here in five minutes. The satellite link went down
earlier. I need to see if it’s up again.
