This was one of the few times when Joe Nation didn’t really know what to do. He didn’t want to be captured or killed, but he couldn’t think of a way to gain any advantage from this. It was possible he could covertly finish off these soldiers, which wouldn’t do him much good if the next group to teleport over numbered a hundred. Or five hundred.

  And then there was the possibility that the aliens in the cargo hold would betray the existence of a human with a stealth augment. All-in-all, it was adding up to being an especially unrewarding day.

  A few minutes passed and Nation did nothing more than observe. A remote chance existed that these soldiers would search the cargo ship and then teleport off having found no sign of whoever killed the other aliens.

  I might even get caught in the return teleport node and find myself onboard one of the Creator’s battleships.

  Such an event wouldn’t necessarily improve his position, but while he lived, Nation knew he could make himself a nuisance.

  Something caught his eye. The console screen closest to him displayed a request to open a comms channel. Nation stared at the request, which came from a hidden source.

  Maybe it’s the base facility for this cargo ship.

  Except the cargo vessel was automated, meaning there was nobody to answer the comms other than the main control processing unit. And this inbound message wasn’t directed at the control computer.

  Nation found himself intensely curious. The alien soldiers didn’t notice the inbound message, which made him assume they weren’t expecting anything. The closest of the soldiers rose from the bench and it cast its eyes over the console screens. It turned away and walked a few steps before stopping and doing nothing else.

  No reaction. It doesn’t know how any part of the ship works.

  Unable to prevent himself, Nation crept closer to the console. He reached across and accepted the message.

  > Hello.

  The text was in human script, which caused Nation’s jaw to open in surprise. He interfaced with the console.

  JN> Hello. Who or what are you?

  > I watch and wait. You are Commander Joe Nation.

  JN> How do you know?

  > Will the answer provide any satisfaction? You have more pressing questions.

  Nation wasn’t entirely sure he did have more pressing questions – not until he knew exactly who he was speaking to.

  JN> I need to know who you are, in order to choose the right words.

  > I am – I was – a part of everything here.

  JN> You are the Creator?

  > I am not the Creator. I know you from the Estrinel.

  JN> Then you are the Watcher.

  > It is as good a name as any.

  JN> What do you want from me?

  WATCHER> I wish to help you.

  JN> How can you help?

  WATCHER> I can provide you with clearance to go through the gateway.

  JN> There’s a battleship less than a thousand metres away.

  WATCHER> Once the clearance code arrives, it will assume everything is as it should be.

  JN> I would like the code.

  WATCHER> Very well.

  Without any delay, a second code arrived via the cargo ship’s comms. Nation wondered if he was required to take action with it. He was not – the thrum from the cargo vessel’s engines increased in volume and it reversed away from the battleship parked across its nose. Nation watched on the sensor feed, grimacing as the enemy gauss cannon adjusted to follow the cargo ship’s progress. He didn’t know if the crew of the warship were still suspicious, or if they were pissing about for the sake of bravado.

  All of a sudden, it was vital to Nation that he stay on the cargo vessel. If the enemy created a new teleport node, he might get caught up in it and transported to the battleship. He stepped sideways along the bulkhead and pressed himself into the furthest corner in order to put some extra distance between himself and the enemy soldiers. The aliens didn’t show any sign they expected to depart imminently, and they did not vanish from the bridge.

  From his place in the corner, the sensor feed was just about visible and Nation watched it fill with static.

  Going through the gateway.

  It stayed that way for a long time and when it cleared, it was replaced with darkness. The enemy soldiers hadn’t exactly settled, but they looked wary rather than outright agitated. Nation crept towards the console once more until he was close enough to interface. He linked and found that Watcher was gone. Nation swore under his breath and was about to withdraw when he felt its presence return.

  WATCHER> I am here.

  JN> Why are you helping me?

  WATCHER> It suits me to do so.

  JN> Where will the cargo vessel go?

  WATCHER> It will travel to its destination. There, it will dock and you will be required to escape before you are found and killed.

  JN> I came here on a spaceship.

  WATCHER> The Eidolon.

  JN> Where is it?

  WATCHER> It was captured by the Creator.

  JN> And the crew?

  WATCHER> Also captured.

  JN> Why?

  WATCHER> The Creator is interested in something carried onboard the Eidolon.

  JN> What does the Creator want?

  WATCHER> It has detected the presence of a material unknown to it. A material with potential beyond that which it currently possesses.

  It took Nation a few seconds before he guessed.

  JN> The Eidolon carries a bomb containing Faor accelerant.

  WATCHER> An evolution of Istoliar. The Creator desires the knowledge.

  JN> There is another source of Faor onboard the Eidolon.

  WATCHER> Captain Rebecca Keller.

  JN> Is there any point in me asking what the Creator will do to her?

  WATCHER> First it will study and later it will extract the material.

  JN> What action do you think I might take?

  WATCHER> You are true to yourself. You will try to rescue her.

  JN> And what will you do if that is what I decide?

  WATCHER> You require help and that is what I offer.

  Nation withdrew from the interface in order to think. Every time he thought he’d reached the pinnacle of strange situations, the universe opened up another sack of purple-flecked unicorn shit and dropped it on his boots. He had no idea if he could trust the Watcher and in truth the answer wasn’t important at this precise moment, since the entity was one hundred percent correct in its evaluation of his intentions.

  I’ve got to rescue Becky, her crew and the Eidolon. If I can set that bomb off in the process and escape with everyone intact, so much the better.

  Nation had set the bar so high he could hardly see where it was. He didn’t care – this was something he had to do and he had no intention of dying in the process. He smiled grimly and the cargo ship continued onwards.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The crew of the Eidolon sat in their spacesuits in order to stave off the encroaching chill. The spaceship’s bridge lighting was still operational, but that was about it. The screens on the consoles gradually became dimmer as the backup power drained. Every so often, Keller would make an effort to start up the propulsion and each time she was met with the same lack of success. The enemy had them trapped and escape seemed like a remote possibility.

  Several hours passed and then Keller felt the effects of deceleration pulling her into the seat harness.

  “They want us to survive,” said Sen-Dar. “Otherwise there is no reason to decelerate sympathetically.”

  There was still plenty of time for the enemy to slam on the brakes and turn them all into a biological smear on the bulkhead wall. Even so, Keller found herself in agreement with the Ghast’s words.

  “Why would the Creator want us alive?”

  “To extract information. Perhaps it is curious.”

  In the absence of a better explanation, Keller could only offer a noncommittal shrug in response. Still, the question bothered her – the entropy factories hadn’t shown any sign of curiosity and she couldn’t imagine the Creator was much different. On the plus side, the teleport shielding protecting the Eidolon appeared to have worked perfectly. Without it, Keller was certain the bridge would have been swarming with armed aliens.

  The deceleration increased and Keller was glad for the padding effect of her spacesuit, which made the harness slightly more comfortable. The visor was on the floor between her feet and, with a struggle, she managed to lay her hands on it and put it into place.

  Twenty minutes into the period of deceleration, Keller was ready to strangle Fleet Admiral Cody for his failure to foresee the requirement for more backup power. She accepted it probably wasn’t entirely his fault, but the mental image of her hands around his neck made her feel fractionally better.

  Eventually, the stresses on her body reduced and by that moment, Keller was happy to face whatever was to come, as long as it meant she was given a break from the physical battering she was being subjected to.

  “We are nearly at a standstill,” said Nil-Varg. “I anticipate we will soon be docked.”

  “They will cut through the hull and remove us from this vessel,” added Sen-Dar.

  After another ten minutes the extended braking finished and Keller felt the Eidolon collide with something at a very low speed.

  “That’s it – we’re docked.” She undid her harness and stood, stretching her aching muscles and joints. “Let’s go.”

  Sen-Dar and Nil-Varg rose and the former strode towards the weapons locker.

  “We won’t be fighting our way clear of this one, Lieutenant.”

  “If our deaths are inevitable, we must show resistance.”

  “As soon as we fire a weapon, we will be killed. I don’t know about you, but I would like to see what exists outside and to find out what I can about this threat to our two species.”

  Sen-Dar saw the sense in the words and he didn’t open the locker, though his reluctance was apparent. “We are here to gather intelligence. If we are dead, that will not be possible,” he said, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything else.

  “The boarding ramps have their own independent power supplies. We’ll go out to meet our captors before they cut a hole through our plating.” Keller leaned over her console. “Before we go, I’ll feed in some code which will activate once the power comes online.”

  “The bomb will go off?”

  “I hope so.”

  It didn’t take long for Keller to sabotage the spy ship. On the off-chance they came back here, she’d have the chance to delete it if necessary. Otherwise, the Eidolon would be disabled and the Istoliar bomb would receive its detonation command.

  Passage through the ship was accomplished without the crew hearing anything which might indicate a forcible attempt at ingress. Keller reached the airlock first and turned briefly to make sure the Ghasts were prepared. She gave them a thumbs-up and then wondered if they knew what the gesture meant. Neither of them responded.

  “Here we go.”

  Keller activated the boarding ramp and heard its mechanical bolts give a shuddering clunk. The suit visor informed her it was a vacuum outside, a fact she’d already guessed when the air in the airlock howled through the narrow opening.

  The ramp wasn’t meant to operate perfectly on the backup, rather it was simply designed to open and not much else. The backup cut out as soon as it had withdrawn the retaining bolts. The ramp seemed to hang in the air for a brief moment, before falling to the ground. It connected heavily with a metal surface and the opening gave Keller her first glimpse of the Creator’s home.

  “Dark,” she said.

  Hesitation wasn’t going to achieve anything, so Keller took her first steps downwards. At the bottom of the ramp she stepped clear to allow the Ghasts to disembark. She looked around at what was an undeniably massive space. Contrary to her expectations, it wasn’t filled with half-finished entropy factories and enemy warships. In fact, it was almost empty.

  Her sensor wasn’t able to completely pierce the darkness, though it was able to ping what she assumed was the far wall almost a thousand kilometres away. To her left and rather closer, the wall of this incredible bay was visible as a grey cliff which went upwards forever, its curvature making it loom threateningly the higher Keller looked.

  “Bay doors,” grunted Nil-Varg, pointing at a darker, square patch on the wall.

  The doors were open and Keller calculated the gap to be twenty kilometres square – big enough to fit any known warship. The doors actually formed something close to a tunnel, so thick was the Creator’s exterior. Outside, the void beckoned, with no sign of stars or anything recognizable.

  To her right, Keller saw the tow ship hanging in the air, motionless. Its nose was pointed towards the bay doors, as if it was awaiting clearance to depart. Then, it moved with lazy speed towards the opening. Keller craned her neck as the spaceship flew overhead, its hull seeming to go on forever.

  “I wonder why they aren’t sticking around.”

  “I expected more of a welcome party,” said Sen-Dar. “And certainly more guns aimed in our direction.”

  The enemy spaceship travelled fast enough that it soon passed them by. It exited the bay, whereupon it accelerated with a suddenness that carried it out of sight in less time than it took Keller to blink. Then, the bay doors emerged from their recesses in the exterior wall and slid across the opening.

  “They’re locking us in.”

  The vacuum carried no sound and the opening was sealed in eerie silence. With nothing else to do, Keller watched, uncomfortably aware that it was like seeing the lid of her own coffin being shifted into position.

  The gap closed completely, leaving the three of them sealed within the enormity of the bay.

  “Why are we alone?” asked Nil-Varg, evidently confused by what was happening.

  He wasn’t the only one trying to figure out the answer to that question and as yet, Keller had nothing to suggest.

  While she tried to come up with something halfway logical, she strode away from the boarding ramp and turned in order to see the extent of the damage suffered by the Eidolon. Without power for its gravity cushion, the spy craft was resting on its underside. Some areas of its plating bore an unevenness indicative of an energy beam strike. Keller’s visor sensor detected heat spilling off the hull towards the rear of the spaceship and it wouldn’t be completely cool for a long time.

  “Hello?” shouted Keller for the hell of it.

  Her voice didn’t carry and she didn’t shout again.

  “I cannot see a way to exit this bay,” said Sen-Dar. The Ghasts wore larger and more angular helmets, and Keller could see the alien peering through the clear screen as he tried to spot something which might be of use to them.

  She joined in the search, peering at the far walls which were an inconceivable distance away. If a door existed, it was going to take a month of walking to reach it. For the first time, Keller felt like putting her head in her hands at the hopelessness of it all. The Eidolon was offline and she was stuck in the middle of the most powerful entity in the known universe with only two Ghasts for company.

  It was about to get much worse.

  Movement in her periphery made her spin around, just in time to see Sen-Dar and Nil-Varg crumple to the floor. She dashed over to Sen-Dar and crouched. His eyes were closed and he looked serene, like he’d decided it was time to sleep.

  Sen-Dar was dead, as was Nil-Varg. Their vital signs were gone from the local suit network, snuffed out as if they’d never existed.

  Remembering her training, Keller pulled the emergency injector from her belt, which contained enough battlefield adrenaline to rouse a thousand injured soldiers. She placed it against Sen-Dar’s chest and the injector’s microneedle filled the Ghast with drugs. Keller watched and hoped, already aware that even battlefield adrenaline couldn’t bring back the dead.

  She pushed herself slowly to her feet, trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. The injector was still in her hand and she considered jabbing it into her neck and letting the drugs wash away her fears. The injector was empty and she let it fall to the ground. Her suit medical computer helpfully offered her a high dose of adrenaline from its internal supply. She declined, fully aware that her pride was useless here.

  Before Keller was able to form any sort of coherent plan, the Eidolon vanished. In front of her eyes, the spy craft disappeared, leaving her alone with her dead crew. For once in her life, Keller felt completely lost and with no idea what she was going to do.

  Fighting despair, she tried to form a neural link to Nation. Wherever he was, the comms unit wasn’t able to connect and Keller tried again in desperation.

  Nothing.

  She sat down and crossed her legs, now wishing she’d brought a gauss rifle with her. It wasn’t as if there was much to shoot, but she’d have felt a lot better carrying a weapon.

  The Ghasts were dead and the Eidolon was gone – presumably teleported elsewhere. Keller didn’t think for a moment that she’d escaped attention and it was only a matter of time until the Creator revealed what it had in mind for her.

  A feeling of transition swept over her and she knew she’d been teleported somewhere. The visor sensor gradually adjusted to the new surroundings.

  More darkness, but not a vacuum…. What the hell?

  The space Keller found herself in was somewhat more confined than the docking bay. Her eyes could see a solid surface only a few inches away and she tried to turn to get a better understanding of her surroundings. Her head wouldn’t move, nor would her limbs. At first, she thought she was tightly clamped, but she felt no pressure to indicate the presence of bands.

  When she realised her fingers or toes wouldn’t move either, she was hit by the panicked notion that she was completely paralysed. Keller struggled, but was completely frozen.

  I can feel my body. Something’s holding me in place. Not physical restraints. Something else.

  She waited in the silent darkness, trapped in what she felt certain was going to be her final resting place. Nothing happened for a time and then, without warning, she felt an incredible pain in the back of her neck, near to where her implants were fitted.