Toth Read online

  COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

  Copyright © 2009 by James C. Glass

  Published by Wildside Press LLC

  www.wildsidebooks.com

  DEDICATION

  For Gary

  And the good folks who worked

  for you at Books in Motion

  We had a good ride

  CHAPTER ONE

  Rudy Hoffman stared with dismay at the graphics display overlapping his electromagnetic sensor data from IR to gamma. It was a ship, all right, trailing a plasma stream a mega meter long, and it had appeared suddenly like a new comet before disappearing over the eastern horizon. Now it was back again, the plasma plume gone, but a heavy hydrogen gamma signature clearly visible. A fusion drive now shut down with the ship inserted in a high, circular orbit. Rudy hesitated. He’d been trained for this moment since childhood, performing routine duties for twenty years and seeing nothing until this day. Nothing to indicate the arrival of visitors to the world of Toth. His orders were clear; he switched off all scanners and called the mainland, ordering them to maintain a scan and receive any radio transmission from the ship. Now it was time for his most difficult task.

  It was time to inform his Master about the arrival of visitors.

  The control room was at the top of the dome and he descended the helical staircase into the bowels of the temple, came out into a circular room lit dimly by the displays of the computer, his Master’s extension in monitoring and controlling the life of the planet. It was a formality to give his report, for the scanner data was already absorbed, analyzed and coded.

  Toth would know his report before it was made. He was all knowing.

  Rudy went to a podium in the center of the room, the panel there giving him visual access to a Master he had never seen in person, a man transfigured yet still human, holding himself apart physically from His people while maintaining constant contact with them in their everyday lives. How would he take this news? Rudy took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his fingers played over the keys of the panel.

  The space in front of him glowed suddenly green and a shimmering figure appeared there, a man, old beyond description, seated on a throne of stone. His face was thin and wrinkled, eyes blazing like twin emeralds. Rudy felt fear, then euphoria as his Lord smiled, and he felt The Pleasure in every part of his body. His Lord was pleased.

  “You’ve done well, Rudy,” said Toth. “Your quick action should divert the ship’s attention to the mainland.”

  “I am your servant, Lord Toth. The ship is now in orbit and contact should be expected. Can this be the visitation you’ve prepared us for?”

  “I’m afraid it is,” said Toth. “I had hopes we’d been forgotten, but that is not to be. It was too much to expect for such a long time, and finally we must deal with it.”

  “Weapons control awaits your command, Lord. In four hours we’ll have an exact calculation of the orbit, and all batteries are at full power.”

  Toth waved a hand gently and smiled again. “Fear is an enemy, Rudy. The Chosen do not quickly kill that which they fear, but look for alternatives. Those who come here are not of The Chosen, but are known to Me. I have dwelled in their midst and counseled them. The fact they’ve not chosen to follow our ways doesn’t make them evil people, only ignorant. We’ll deal with them, hear what they have to say and send them on their way. But you are correct in maintaining a full alert. If these people threaten our world in any way they must be dealt with harshly, even if it means others will come after them. For the moment, we’ll wait. In the meantime you should calculate the exact Orbit of that ship and remain alert.”

  “Yes. My Lord.” Toth looked away from him, nodded at someone outside the limits of the holographic image, and then turned back.

  “There is someone else I must speak with. My blessings on you, Rudy.” He waved his hand slowly and once again Rudy Hoffman felt the wave of Pleasure pass through his body from head to toe, quickening his heartbeat as the image of Toth flickered and disappeared.

  Rudy climbed the stairs to the control room, nerve-endings still tingling from His Lord’s Pleasure. He was relieved, for he’d not always received such reward for his deeds. There had been times, mostly in his youth, when his own desires had superseded those of Toth, and he had paid the necessary price.

  He still remembered the pain.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Michael’s first conscious thought was a desire to stay where he was, floating in a dream about the baths on Arkon. Waves of warm water surged against his chest, and Mira squeezed his hand. They were standing naked in roiling waters as Daniel paddled ahead of them towards a huge, marble fountain covered with screaming children in the center of the great pool. Daniel, now four years old, was a child of Arkon’s elite, his father a captain over five hundred combat marines in Victoria’s Legion. Daniel reached the fountain, clambered up onto it and waved to his parents.

  When they were close he threw himself towards them, coming up sputtering, arms thrashing as he swam his first, tentative strokes without the support of the poly-board.

  Mira gasped. Michael drew her close and smiled with pride s his son swam freely for the first time, and—

  There was a stinging sensation in his body, the dream shattered. His mouth tasted like tarnished silver, and cold air was blowing on his face. He traced the pain to his arm now lying across his chest. There was a voice and flashing light as his eyelids fluttered.

  “Major Queal? Rise and shine, sir. We’ve got a problem here.”

  Michael squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and caught a whiff of Oliazone, the stuff that dreams are made of, but it was too late. He was awake now, and the cocoon was open. He could feel his legs; hear the dull thud of his own heart beating, the click-click of a circulation pump, the distant growl of a fusion engine.

  He was back on Belsus again.

  “Please, sir. They’re waiting for you on the bridge.”

  Michael opened his eyes, blinked twice at light first bright, then dull as an unfamiliar face blocked it. Someone leaned over to peer closely at him. “Private Osen, sir. They sent me to fetch you. The rest of the detachment has been up for several hours.”

  A boy, thought Michael. Every time I wake up, they get younger and younger. He moved his arms and grasped the edges of the cocoon. Osen removed the stim-cuff and helped him sit up where he teetered for a moment. A wave of nausea passed quickly.

  “Would you like some water, sir?”

  “Anything to get this crummy taste out of my mouth, private.” His voice was hoarse, and sounded foreign to him. How long since he’d last heard it? He really didn’t want to know, but asked anyway.

  “How long have I been under this time?” he asked, took a poly-bottle from Osen and sipped slowly.

  The boy consulted a chart at the end of Michael’s cocoon. “A little over fifteen years Arkon, sir. Three jumps since they put you in the cocoon, it says here. Colonel Mootry is expecting you right away, sir.”

  “Well, there’s a familiar name. Help me out of this thing.” Michael returned the poly-bottle after draining it, then held out his hands and Osen pulled him out of the cocoon and onto his feet where he stood swaying for a moment, the boy hanging onto him.

  “Lead the way, private,” said Michael. He took one uncertain step, then another, legs shaking. They walked the length of the long sleep bay past row upon row of Cocoons now empty. He’d been the last to be awakened, had missed at least two planet falls. Why? I’m turning into a piece of old, frozen meat kept for emergencies, he thought, while my ex-wife’s hair has turned gray or white and my son is nearly as old as his father. All of this for a generous pension and mustering out on some colonial planet hundreds of light-years from the hollowed-out asteroid I grew up on, the spaceship of The New Christians, a thousand years from E
arth, when Victoria ruled supreme. What now?

  They reached the lift. Osen inserted the bridge security card as the door closed them in. Michael’s stomach dropped away and he swallowed hard when the odors of oil and hot metal and his own sweat assailed him. They ascended four flights where two marines he didn’t recognize were there to greet them, rigidly at attention, M34 assault rifles at port arms. Kids, both of them, probably recruits like Osen. How many had come aboard while he was in hibernation? He followed Osen and the marines along the long, featureless hallway to the bridge, passed four techs that looked curiously at him as they snapped to attention. He didn’t know any of them.

  The double doors to the bridge hissed open as they arrived. Marines stepped aside and came to parade-rest. As he entered, someone called “Ten-hut!” and there was a scuffing of boots on the metal floor. The ceiling panels were off in the circular room, the only illumination coming from screens of four concentric circles of monitors, beside each of which a dark figure stood at attention. Michael descended four shallow flights of stairs to where two men in full dress uniform of blue and red stood hunched over the observation desk by the commander’s chair. They looked up at his approach and he saluted smartly to the older of the two, a square-jawed man of fifty who smiled and saluted back. “Welcome back, Mike. Sorry to drag you here straight out of deep sleep. You look like hell.”

  “Feel like it too, sir. Good to see you again.”

  Colonel Floyd Mootry, commander of HMS Belsus, reached out a furry paw to grasp Michael’s hand. “Fifteen years of easy pay, if you ask me,” he said, “but something has come up that doesn’t look routine and I need you here. If so, this could be your last planet fall. This could be the place, and there’s a problem here, at least I think there is.”

  “Where’s ‘here’, sir?”

  Mootry’s fingers played the controls of the observation desk, the screen there at first showing only stars until an emerald green planet slid into view.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Michael.

  “Emerson,” said Mootry. “Class one—no terra-forming—agricultural base. The colony was established two hundred and fifty years ago with minimum-tech and a handful of bioengineers. Three hundred souls looking for land to farm and seas to fish after the flare forced everyone under quartz domes on Riga. They came seven hundred light years in deep sleep to populate this little gem and all you can see now is green, green, and green down there.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “Shouldn’t be,” said Mootry, “but it seems that the natives would prefer to be left alone, and I think you’ll agree our first radio contact with them can only be classified as hostile. Lieutenant, set up that chip for the Major, please.”

  The young officer standing next to them disappeared into the surrounding gloom. “Nels Sadir,” said Mootry. “He came aboard from Brown’s planet about a year after we put you under and then went straight into hibernation. He’s been up for three months now as my communications officer, one of the ninety-day wonders the colonies are growing for us these days, all proper and clean, full of loyalty for their queen. Hell, Victoria’s probably dead twenty years by now. Sometimes I wonder why we’re even out here.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Michael.

  Mootry smiled. “You telling me you don’t wonder about it, too? I don’t have anything to hide from you. You’re my number one.”

  “I haven’t done much thinking lately, sir. I’ve been asleep for fifteen years.”

  Mootry frowned, put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Ah, well, let’s talk about that after you’ve heard the recording. Maybe a couple of drinks will get you to use my first name again and—oh, here we are.”

  Lieutenant Sadir had returned, a recorder chip in one hand. He inserted it in a slot on the observation desk, and then stepped back. Mootry’s hand moved over the desk controls, the image of Emerson suddenly filling the screen. Beneath scattered clouds, four land masses were visible, dark green splotches on an azure sea. Mootry pointed at a coastal spot on the largest mass. “When we made orbital insertion they were already scanning us, but the power level suddenly dropped before we got a fix, and is steady since then. It’s coming from the coast, right there, and we called for over an hour before they finally acknowledged us. Here, see what you think.” Mootry pressed a button, holding it down until there was a crackle from the desk. “Here’s their first answer; no hello, kiss my ass or anything.”

  “I wish to inform you that your ship’s orbit is inside our five hundred kilometer limit and is in violation of our free space laws. Please move yourself beyond the limit before initiating further communication.” The voice was deep, hoarse—commanding.

  “Emerson, this is HMS Belsus, a frigate of Her Majesty’s survey fleet. We have arrived to take a census and record the progress of a colony established in Her name. Please acknowledge.”

  There was a long pause filled only with crackling static, and then, “There are no colonies on Tothwelt, and we are a native people. You have mistaken our planet for another. Please remove yourselves at once before we are forced to take protective action.”

  “Friendly,” said Michael, as static resumed.

  “We had a quick conference after that remark,” said Mootry, and the next voice on the recording was his own. “Emerson, this is Colonel Floyd Mootry, commander of HMS Belsus. We come in the name of Queen Victoria, sovereign of Arkon and ruler of the Rubion Federation, of which you are a member. We’re here to survey progress since your establishment and to provide you with contacts you might desire with the rest of the Federation. You have nothing to fear from us, and our stay will be brief if you cooperate. Please understand we are fully armed and capable of strong retaliation if attacked. Any hostile action on your part is ill advised. Respond immediately, please.”

  The voice, when it came again, seemed a bit more conciliatory. “Your engines are endangering our atmosphere, and we are not a space-faring people. We must rely on your good intentions. You can show this by moving your ship to the five hundred kilometer limit, at which time you may contact us again.”

  Mootry shut off the recording. “So we did it, buying some time for both of us to cool down. I’d already called battle-stations, all the panels were deployed and we had enough microwave energy to incinerate the source of that communication. Now listen.”

  He snapped the recording on again.

  “Emerson, this is HMS Belsus. We are keeping station at five hundred nautical directly above your position. All fusion drives are shut down and residual radiation completely contained. There is no possible threat to your atmosphere. Come in, please.”

  The new voice that answered was soft, a monotone. “Thank you for your cooperation, Commander Mootry. There was a moment of concern for our safety here, but it has passed. Now, what can we do for you?”

  “Who am I speaking to?” asked Mootry.

  “I am Diego Segur, a Counselor to our people.”

  Mootry explained his mission: a census of the population, medical data, and statistics on agricultural production and environmental data for comparison with measurements taken at first planet fall, an offer to make contacts with suitable trading partners within a radius of a thousand light-years via federation-subsidized freighters equipped with hyper-drive.

  “If you’ll direct us to a suitable landing location I request permission to send a survey team in a flyer within the next two of your days.”

  “I see no need for that, Commander,” said Diego. “There are only small farms here, and we take much of what we need from the sea. Our people are without illness, and our environment is pure. We have no desire or need for trade, but I can transmit our population data and estimates we have for the production of foodstuffs on Tothwelt.”

  “I’m sorry, Counselor, but we require a survey team to provide us with the necessary data to supplement your estimates,” said Mootry, his words clipped short. “The team is self-contained, and we require no services. The flyer itself has simple reac
tion engines that will produce little or no measurable pollution to your environment. Now, please provide us with landing coordinates.”

  “We are a peaceful and secure people,” returned Diego. “We have no desire to participate in the affairs of other worlds, or to have contact with them. You are not welcome here, Commander.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that, Counselor,” said Mootry, his voice tight with self-control, “but I must insist that we send a team down to conduct the survey. Landing coordinates, please.”

  “You have undoubtedly found the location of our transmission, and that is where we are. I feel no obligation to give you any further information. You have not been invited here, Commander, and I will assume no responsibility for the peril to those you send down to us.”

  Static returned.

  “Definitely not friendly,” said Mootry, snapping off the recording.

  “And I guess I know why I’m out of deep sleep,” said Michael, rubbing one hand over the long, black tangle of his beard.

  “Right. Let’s talk about that. Get yourself cleaned up and meet me in level-six-Mess room for some pabulum and weak booze. I’ll try not to smirk while I eat my steak. Lieutenant Sadir will see you to your quarters.”

  “Yes, sir!” said Sadir. “Follow me, sir!”

  Michael wearily followed the young man up the steps and out of the room, turning left and along the hall in a long, featureless curve to another lift which took them quickly to fifth level. Officers’ quarters was directly above the command center, was bathed in soft, greenish light from ceiling panels, doors leading to living cubicles twenty by twenty feet, large by military standards.

  Sadir stopped by a door marked ‘Queal’ on a plaque, beneath which was the four-bar with crossing thunderbolt insignia of a combat major. He took a plastic mag-card from his pocket and handed it to Michael. “Your key, sir. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging your things, and my video-code is marked above the screen in your room. Please call me at any time you require assistance; Colonel Mootry has placed me at your command until drop. A pleasure to serve you, sir!” Sadir saluted smartly, Michael returning it with a vague gesture, then inserting the card in the lock, the door hissing open. He stepped inside, turning, finding Sadir still standing there rigidly at attention. “I’ll call you if I need something, Lieutenant,” he said softly.