The Stones of Silence_Cochrane's Company_Book One Read online

  A week later, Commander Lamprey walked through every compartment of his almost deserted ship. A space-suited figure walked at his side, its helmet visor dialed to mirror brightness so that he couldn’t see through it from outside. Everyone who’d boarded his ship had done the same thing, and their voices had all been passed through a modulator. There was no way he or his crew would ever be able to identify them.

  At last the figure beside him said, “That’s it, then. All compartments are empty, and every member of your crew has been accounted for. Thank you for your cooperation, Commander. It guarantees you good treatment until we take you home.”

  “How long will we be here?”

  “Plan on up to three months. It may be less, but I don’t think it will be more.”

  Lamprey sighed in frustration. “What about our families? They’ll be off their heads with worry. They’ll think something’s happened to us.”

  “I’m sorry. I understand your concern, but for our own security, we want to dispose of Colomb before we let you go. It’ll take time to do that, and for word to get back to us that it’s been done. Until then, you’ll just have to possess yourselves in patience. We’ve included books, games and a few other distractions on the computer in your habitat.”

  “Thanks for that,” he said grudgingly. “At least you haven’t dumped us in those shelters with nothing to do. After two or three weeks, that would get very boring.”

  “Keep good order and discipline, and you’ll all come through this without a problem. When the time comes, we’ll ferry you up to a freighter with a personnel pod big enough for all of you, sealed against vacuum. We’ll take you to Callanish and shove the pod out of the hold doors at the system boundary, with an emergency beacon attached, and send a signal to System Control to tell them who and where you are. Your System Patrol Service will respond, and tow you to planetary orbit. By then, of course, we’ll be long gone.”

  “I suppose that’ll work.”

  “All right, let’s get you planetside.”

  An hour later, the cutter landed on the airless surface of Mycenae Primus Four. A series of toroidal inflatable habitats had been set up, connected to each other by airlocks and tubes. The cutter reversed up to an airlock, which extended a concertina tube that sealed itself around the flange surrounding the rear hatch. There was a brief pause while pressures were equalized, then the light above the hatch changed from red to green. The cutter pilot pressed a switch, and the hatch hinged outward and down, forming a ramp giving access to the tube.

  His captor turned to him, face still invisible behind the mirror finish of his spacesuit helmet. “You’ve got rations for four months. We’ve run a cable from your shelter to a tight-beam dish over the hill. One of our ships will be monitoring that circuit via satellite link. If you need something, ask them, but don’t waste our time with idle chit-chat. Use it for emergencies only. We’ll check in once a week if we don’t hear from you.”

  “Can’t you give us a radio, instead of a tight-beam? What if the beam is displaced by something, and doesn’t work?”

  “Sorry. We don’t want you listening to our transmissions. You’ll have to live with the tight-beam circuit. If we notice it’s not working, we’ll repair it.”

  With that, Lamprey had to be content. He went through the airlock, sealing it behind him, and looked at his waiting Executive Officer.

  “Everything all right down here?”

  “Yes, sir, as far as ‘all right’ can apply to a temporary inflatable shelter on an airless planet!”

  “It’ll have to do for now.”

  Commander Cousins waited while the cutter rendezvoused with Amelia and slid into her docking bay. At last, Lieutenant-Commander Moffatt reported, “Cutter secure, sir. Ready for departure.”

  “Thank you, Exec.” He reached for his microphone. “Amelia to Payana and Trairao. We’re heading out in accordance with orders. Remain in orbit around Mycenae Primus Four, and make sure you observe the restrictions on active emissions and drive power. We still don’t know whether another ship might visit those asteroid prospector bots, or what type of ship it may be. If one does arrive, but it can’t detect you, it won’t bother you; and until we have greater force in this system, we don’t want to start a fight. Meanwhile, keep an eye on Colomb’s crew.

  “You’ve got six months’ supplies in orbit. We should be back within two months, all being well. Give local liberty to your crews when possible in the orbital inflatable habitat we left for that purpose. It’s not much, but it’s a lot more spacious than the cramped quarters aboard your ships, so make the most of it. We’ll bring your relief crews back with us. Over.”

  “Payana to Amelia, have fun, you lucky bastards! We’ll keep things under wraps here. Over.”

  “Trairao to Amelia, have a beer or three for us. Any chance you can sneak a few cases aboard when you return? Over.”

  Cousins grinned. “Amelia to Payana and Trairao. No beer. You know the rules in space. However, we’ll tell them to stock up, ready for your return. You can make up for the dry months then! Amelia out.”

  He glanced across at Moffatt. “Very well, Exec. Let’s go.”

  “Yes, sir. I wonder how the prize crew is doing aboard Colomb?”

  “They’re probably still settling down, rattling around in her like peas in a pod. There’s not many of them.”

  “I reckon they’ll get to Constanta about a week before we do. It’s a real pity we can’t keep Colomb for ourselves. After her refurbishment, she’s in great shape.”

  “Yes, but she’s too easily identifiable. Once Callanish spreads the word about her loss, we’d risk having her confiscated as stolen property if we took her to any major planet. Better to exchange her for what we need, after stripping out everything useful on board.”

  “That’ll keep Warrant Officer McBride busy for a while.”

  “It sure will! Now, let’s go pull that surveillance satellite from NOE’s asteroid prospecting field, then check all three fields to see whether any more asteroids have been beaconed for recovery. If so, we’ll take them with us, too.”

  9

  Change Of Delivery

  DURRES

  The comm unit chimed next to Captain Faraday’s bed. It kept on chiming until, groaning in frustration, he turned over and reached for it. “Who the hell d’you think you are, calling me at two in the bloody morning?” he bellowed into the mouthpiece.

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” came a clipped, official-sounding voice. “Some of your people have been having too much of a good time. We’ve had to arrest them. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Who the devil is this?”

  “I’m Inspector Carse, Durres Planetary Police. I’m at the reception desk. I suggest I come up to your room, so the other spacers in the bar won’t get involved in our discussion.”

  Faraday cudgeled his brain into action. Yes, it was Saturday morning, after all. This hotel was popular with visiting spacers, and a lot of them would still be having a good time in the bar, warming up for the weekend. No sense in letting them see uniforms, and become antagonistic.

  “All right, Inspector. I’m in room 319. Come on up.”

  “Thank you, Captain. We’ll be there in two minutes.”

  He had time to don his shirt and trousers, but no shoes, before a firm, authoritative knock came at the door. He opened it to find two men, both wearing the black uniform of the local police force.

  “Come on in,” he grunted, turning his back to them as he walked away – then the world went dark. He never felt his cheek strike the carpet as he collapsed to the floor.

  He woke an indeterminable time later, lying under a blanket on a thin camping pad, on a cold concrete floor in some sort of warehouse or storage building. The only light came from translucent panels set in the metal roof far above. There were no windows, and the sliding doors were closed. One of them had a smaller metal door set into it, also shut.

  “Wh – where the devil am I?” he muttered to
himself as he pushed himself painfully up on one elbow. He winced at the movement, and put his hand to the back of his head. He found a swelling above his right ear that hadn’t been there the night before.

  His confusion redoubled as he looked around. Both passage crews were lying on the floor around him, looking as if they were sleeping peacefully. Trickles of blood were visible on some of their faces and heads. Beyond them in the gloom, a pile of suitcases and kitbags was piled carelessly against a wall. Looking more closely, he recognized his own among them.

  He jumped, startled, as a shrilling sound came from a comm unit lying on the floor next to him. He picked it up, and put it gingerly to his ear. “H – hello?”

  “Listen up.” The voice was flat, dispassionate. He recognized it as the ‘Inspector’ of the night before. “You and your passage crews are a hundred kilometers from Durres City, in a farming area. There are no houses within five clicks of that building, and no-one will go near it. You’ll find crates of ration packs against the far wall. The taps and toilets work. There are no live guards, but we’ve deployed armed security drones around the barn. They’ll fire on any human-sized movement outside, day or night, so don’t try to leave. That would be terminally stupid. Got it?”

  “Y – yes, but… why are you doing this?”

  “Don’t ask stupid questions you know I won’t answer. Tha comm unit in your hand is connected to this one on a dedicated circuit. It can’t call anywhere else. If you have an emergency, press the ‘call’ button, and someone will answer after a while. You’re going to be in that building for the next twenty-seven days, so you may as well relax and enjoy it. At the end of that time, we’ll send a crew bus to take you to the spaceport. Inside it, you’ll find tickets for the next monthly freighter to New Stornoway, and for the ferry from there to Callanish, plus ‘distressed spacer’ documentation to get you all the way back home.”

  “But – but – where are our ID’s? What about the ships we’re supposed to collect at Goheung?”

  The voice sounded mocking as it assured him, “Don’t worry, they’ll be in good hands. Just remember – stay in the building. If you don’t believe me about the drones, send one of your crew outside. We haven’t locked the small door set inside the larger sliding door. Just make sure to pick someone you don’t mind losing, because he won’t be coming back!”

  With a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Faraday realized that the speaker wasn’t joking. This kidnapping had been too well planned and professionally executed for that.

  “All right,” he gritted, struggling to contain his outrage and frustration. “Twenty-seven days, you said?”

  “That’s right. All your gear is in there with you, plus some entertainment on the tablets piled on the table. You’ll be bored, but you’ll also be alive and unharmed when you get out of there. Be grateful for small mercies. We could have put you out of the way much more permanently. You wouldn’t have enjoyed that.”

  There was a click as the speaker cut the circuit.

  GOHEUNG

  Three weeks later, two brand-new million-ton fast freighters were formally handed over to their passage crews. The ceremony was impressive, featuring a band, the flags of Goheung and Callanish, and speeches by the shipyard manager and by ‘Captain Faraday’ on behalf of the ships’ new owners.

  When the formalities had been observed and the guests had dispersed, the passage crews boarded their ships and settled down for the long journey that lay ahead. Frank removed the pads from inside his cheeks, used solvent to strip off the dark eyebrows and close-cropped beard and mustache he’d adopted, and combed his hair back into its normal style. It had been a prolonged and not-very-enjoyable few weeks, imitating Captain Faraday’s appearance. He was glad he could abandon the pretense at last.

  He returned to the bridge, set up a tight-beam link to the other ship, and cut in the intercom circuits on both vessels so that all his people could hear his words. “Listen up!” he began. “You’ve done real well. There’ll be a bonus for everyone when we get to Medusa. We’ll have to wait a few weeks for the replacement ships, so we’ll go planetside and enjoy ourselves – but remember, keep your mouths shut! As soon as the other ships are ready, we’ll be off again. There’ll be another bonus when we deliver them. Make sure you keep them spotlessly clean and in good order. Well-paying customers like these aren’t all that common. If we deliver what we promised, in top shape, they’ll be coming back to us with more business. Let’s make sure of that by keeping them happy!”

  He replaced the microphone and relaxed. By now, the shipyard on Medusa would have lined up the three ships Henry had asked for, in exchange for these two brand-new fast freighters and Callanish’s repair vessel. They might well have been stolen somewhere, or pirated, but that wouldn’t matter by the time the shipyard finished with them. Their gravitic drives, transponder beacons, and all other components with an emissions signature would be replaced; fairings would be added, and metal cut away, to alter their outline; serial numbers and identification plates would be removed from major items of equipment, preventing their being traced; and new registration documents would be provided, certifying that the vessels had originated in a defunct shipyard on the far side of the settled galaxy. Conveniently, its records were no longer available for comparison to the ships. That wasn’t surprising, since it had been set up, then shut down, by a Medusa concern as a useful fig-leaf for transactions such as these.

  Once all that’s done, they’ll be untraceable, Frank thought contentedly to himself. Henry’s boss can take them anywhere he pleases, without fear of anyone identifying them as stolen property. Even taking our fee into account, plus whatever extra he might have had to pay to the shipyard, he’ll have bought two smaller fast freighters and a repair ship for less than a third of their market value. That’s a good deal in anyone’s language.

  CONSTANTA

  His sentiments were echoed by Commander Cousins as he sat down in Captain Cochrane’s office. “Not only did we get you a repair ship, sir; we also brought back thirty-three more asteroids.”

  “Thirty-three? I don’t understand. According to NOE, it took over a year for the prospector bots to find those we collected last time. How did they find so many more, so quickly?”

  “There’s a puzzle there, sir. The NOE and Callanish bot fields had found only four or five apiece. Those robot prospectors with Cyrillic plates, though; they were moving much faster. They’d spread further, and found twice as many as the other two fields combined. I think those bots are using a different algorithm to identify asteroids worth beaconing. They’re working faster because they’re working smarter. They seem to be programmed to abandon any asteroid that doesn’t meet an early set of criteria. That may cause them to discard some otherwise worthwhile rocks, but it also means they won’t waste time on anything but the really good ones – the cream of the cream.”

  “You may be right. I think we need to analyze some of those bots down to binary zeroes and ones, to understand their algorithms and their artificial intelligence control program.”

  “I figured you’d say that, boss, so I brought three of them back with me. That was more difficult than I expected. They still exploded every time we tried to get close to them. In the end, we tried having a cutter descend from directly above them, using reaction thrusters, then spear them with a tractor beam. That worked. As soon as they were lifted off the surface, they shut down. At the ship, we moved them into a hold using tractor beams, but made sure we didn’t lower them to the deck until we’d disabled their power packs. Turns out they had sensors in their feet. As soon as all of them were off the surface, that disabled the self-destruct mechanism.”

  “That was good work, to figure that out – dangerous, though, to take them aboard your ship when they might blow up.”

  “They weren’t big explosions, sir. I’d seen a few by then. I figured it was worth the risk, because I’m sure Jock Murray will want to investigate them.”

  “Yes, he�
�s the obvious person to start checking them out. He’ll probably call in some systems specialists, too. All right, you took a calculated risk, and it paid off. Well done, Dave.”

  “You may not say that when I tell you the next bit, sir. I did some thinking. We know about NOE’s bots, and Callanish’s – at least, that’s where the second field’s prospector bots come from. That field with the Cyrillic-labeled bots, though; we’ve no idea who put them there, or when. They’re more advanced than the other bots; they work faster; and they’re programmed to self-destruct rather than be captured. Putting all that together, it made me wonder; are their owners the single most dangerous threat to us, and to what we’re trying to do in Mycenae?”

  Cousins took a deep breath. “I had a hunch, sir. I sowed those ten space mines you gave me around the leading edge of their prospector bot field. I programmed them to listen for test transmissions, as the bots locate rich asteroids and deploy beacons on them. One mine will patrol each beacon, and hit any ship trying to pick it up. I programmed them with an ID code, too, so that if our ships broadcast it as they move in, they won’t be targeted.”

  “But you were supposed to do that in NOE’s field!”

  “Yes, sir, but I think the Cyrillic guys, for want of a better name for them, are more dangerous to us. You told NOE you’d mine their field as soon as you’d bought space mines. You were going to buy warheads while we were away, and I presume Sue’s using them to rebuild the mines she took apart, so I’ll deploy those when I go back. If I did the wrong thing, sir, I apologize. Like I said, I had a hunch, and it was strong enough that I acted on it.”

  Cochrane thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t have done that, but it’s like I’ve always taught my officers. The person on the spot is the one who must make the call. You can’t make it from thousands or millions or billions of kilometers away. I’m not sure you made the right call, but it was your call to make. We’ll see how it works out.”