Dark Space (20 page)

   Something about the
darkness and the speed of the craft was beginning to affect him. While far from
claustrophobic, Shawn was starting to get a sense of uneasiness in the pit of
his stomach. Before he could put an exact cause to it, the vehicle entered a
relatively well-lit space and slowed to a halt. All the gullwing doors opened
simultaneously, and the two SS operatives exited quietly. Shawn and Melissa
quickly followed suit.

   They were in a cavernous
room hollowed out of solid rock. High above them was a vaulted ceiling, with
artificial light filtering through a grated support structure. To the right of
the car was an enclosed, faceted conveyor of some type extending the length of
the room. It was connected to an even larger machine at the far side of the
cave, itself about three stories tall, with a series of wide tubes extending
from its upper portion into the solid rock face above. From the level of dust
present, and the fact that the machine made no noise whatsoever, Shawn guess
that it hadn’t been functional in sometime.

   “This way, Commander,” the
driver said.

   Shawn turned to see the man
standing on a dilapidated gantry way, one barely wide enough for him to do so.
Beneath him were wheeled buckets, probably once use to hold raw materials from
the mines. One had overturned, and a pile of glittering dust had spilled from
it. The air in the place was stale, and left a lingering metallic taste in
Shawn’s mouth as he exhaled slowly. Hoping nothing in here was toxic, he
motioned for Melissa to follow him up to the gantry. The second of the two SS
officers took up the rear position and followed Melissa at a practical
distance. His hands were hidden inside the folds of his coverings, but Melissa
knew he was holding his weapon firmly.

   After traveling down
several long corridors, they came to a doorway carved into the rock. The lead
Special Services man took out an identity card, waved it over a pad in the
wall, and the door opened with a groan. Inside, the fifteen-foot-square room
was empty, save for several disused crates packed against the far wall and a
second doorway on the far side. There was a single light coming down from the
overhead that looked to have recently been installed.

   A moment of silence fell
over the room before the far door opened with a groan, similar to the previous
door. Another pair of SS personnel strode in, followed by a massive officer. So
tall was he that the alien had to bend down slightly to clear the door’s
lintel. When it stood before Shawn and Melissa, it stretched to its full
height—some nine feet or more.

  When the Tizarian people
were first contacted some one hundred years ago, the first thought that ran
though most people’s minds was how similar they looked to the mythological
Minotaur. Their heads were roughly bovine shaped, and they had a pair of sharp
horns protruding from their temples. Even their powerful legs were double
jointed. Though the Tizarians were, in fact, descended from an aquatic
species—and their appearance was considered on odd coincidence of nature—the
term “Minotaur” still stuck in less professional conversations about the
honorable race. 

   “Commander Kestrel,” the
imposing Tizarian began as he stretched out a webbed, four-fingered hand. “I’m
Major Sisleon, Unified Special Services Team Bravo.” The voice was low and
soothing.

   Shawn reached out and shook
the powerful hand. “This is Special Agent Melissa Graves, Office of Special
Intelligence,” he said with a wave of his hand.

   “Miss Graves,” the major
said, taking her hand just as firmly as he had with Shawn. “I’ve had the
pleasure of working with the OSI on past occasions. I hope this one will be no
less productive.”

   Melissa nodded as she
released the Major’s hand. In the past, her own experiences with SS teams could
have been defined as less than stellar. They had their own way of doing
things—ways that could often be defined as less than regulation. However,
they’d never failed to come through when she’d called on them for support.
“You’ve secured the area, then?” she asked.

   Sisleon grunted an
acknowledgement. “We have. My personnel are stationed throughout the complex.”

   “How large is your team?”

   “Twenty of my best people.”

   Shawn scanned the inside of
the small room one more. “You were here during the sandstorm yesterday?”

   The alien’s large head
bobbed. “We were, Commander Kestrel. These caverns afforded us all the
protection we required. I sent out a patrol first thing this morning to
ascertain any damage to structures outside. It appears that everything is still
in order for your investigation … albeit a bit dustier.”

   “Then you know why we’re
here?” Melissa asked.

   “I am aware of
our
orders, Special Agent,” Sisleon said smartly, “and that you’ll likely wish to
question the person we’ve detained.”

   Both she and Shawn shared a
glance. “You’ve detained someone?”

   “We have. An older Ionian
gentleman.” There was another glance between Shawn and Melissa, and this time
Sisleon inquired about it. “Was this … expected?”

   “Let’s say it was a
possibility we thought we might encounter,” Shawn answered.

   “When did you find him, and
where?” Melissa asked.

   “One of my patrol squads
found him two days ago, within the first hour of our arrival at this
installation. He was down in the caverns beneath us along with a large number
of scientific instruments.”

   “There are more caves below
us?” Shawn asked. “I thought we were already pretty far underground.”

   Sisleon nodded. “There are,
Commander—a veritable catacomb of tunnels and caverns. We’re currently only
about fifty feet below the surface of the ore processing plant. The network
below stretches for another mile or so.”

   Shawn almost laughed at the
irony of the situation. Here he was, talking to something that looked very
similar to a Minotaur, in an environment that would be identical to where
Terran mythology would place one. He kept the insight to himself as he kicked
the dust beneath his feet, wondering how stable these abandoned caverns were.

   “You mentioned scientific
equipment, Major,” Melissa said. “What kind?”

   Sisleon shook his large
head. “I’m uncertain as to some of it. Not my area of expertise, you
understand. There’s a great deal of it down there, and it looks to have been
there for some time. I can tell you we found a spectral analyzer, and a
communications terminal that was linked to a remote antenna attached to one of
the structures above.”

   She understood the concept
of the transmitter, but not the analyzer. “Did he give you a name?”

   “His name is Uudon, Doctor
Uudon. He says he’s a representative of the Unified Historical Society, but his
identity card is missing. We’ve been unable to verify that, both because he’s
been very tight-lipped about his personal information, and the fact that our
connection to the Unified Government’s mainframe is somewhat limited.” He then
looked at Melissa, the lips at the end of his muzzle curling into a smile.
“Perhaps your
methods
will extract more viable information from him?”

   Melissa caught the
inflection of his words. OSI methods, she knew from personal experience, were
highly effective at mining information from inflexible sources. Though she
objected to using them in general, there were extreme cases where doing so had
been a matter of life or death—either for her or others she was protecting.
That Major Sisleon knew something about them spoke volumes about how closely
he’d worked with OSI operatives in the past, considering that those methods
were a closely guarded secret. “I’ll have to question him right away,” was all
she said. 

   “Of course, Agent Graves.
I’ve kept him in isolation not far from here. He’s been given rations of food
and water, but he’s eaten very little. He looked to be in rather poor health
when we found him and he hasn’t gotten any better in the last few days.”

   “Please take me to him
straight away,” she said. “The sooner we question him, the sooner we can all
move on to more important things.”

   Sisleon turned back to the
door he’d come through. One of his men opened it for him, and the major once
again ducked as he crossed the threshold. “This way, please.” 

   The passageway, little more
than a tunnel drilled through solid rock, led deeper under the surface of the
planet. Spaced evenly along the walls were small floodlights powered by an
unseen source. Occasionally Shawn and Melissa came across a mining droid. Some
were toppled over, while others were stuck in their final poses, their
drill-tipped arms frozen and embedded into the surface of the shaft.

   “Creepy,” Shawn muttered as
they stepped around another robotic corpse.

   “I trust you are aware of
the mine’s former operator?” Sisleon asked over his shoulder as he continued to
lead them into the semi-darkness.

   “I am,” Melissa responded
as she took a final look at the droid, the circuitry in its chest cavity
exposed and dangling out like a plate of discarded spaghetti.

   “When the OSI took control
of this station some years ago, the special agent involved did a very thorough
job of disabling these droids. We’ve tried to clear them from the passageways
as much as possible, but some were impeding our investigation of the tunnels
and were all but impossible to get around. We had to remove them using small
charges, and that last one we passed was one of them.”

   “I see,” Melissa said,
eyeing Shawn suspiciously.

   He nodded to her in
understanding. Her eyes were telling him that, even thought they were in the
presence of friendly forces, she had her reservations about what she wasn’t
being told.

   “Here we are,” Sisleon said
as he came to a halt before a large steel door. He placed his ID card against
the reader and it opened with a load moan. “My men and I will wait outside.
You’ll understand, of course, if we close the door behind you.”

   She did, but the feeling in
her gut that something was amiss told her otherwise. “Of course, Major.” True
to his word, as soon as she and Shawn were in the dimly lit space, the door
closed securely behind them and locked.

   “Not exactly what I was
expecting,” Shawn said as he looked around the carved space. In the center of
the chamber were chairs and a desk. In the corner was a cot with a lone figure
sitting on it. Shawn looked to the older Ionian male, who looked back
wordlessly but with curiosity in his eyes.

   “I’m Special Agent Melissa
Graves of the OSI,” she began as she stepped closer to him.

   Shawn kept his distance,
his hands relaxed at his side where he could quickly draw his pistol if
necessary.

   The older man stood to his
full height, about four and half feet. He was hunched over slightly, as if the
effects of his advanced age were taking their toll on his body. “Doctor K’artl
Uudon, Unified Historical Society.”

   “This is Commander Shawn
Kestrel,” she said as she motioned to Shawn. “Unified Sector Command.”

   Uudon looked to Shawn
skeptically. “I understand your presence, Agent Graves, and indeed, I welcome
it … but the Commander’s is somewhat … puzzling. Why is Sector Command here?”

   The words were spoken with
an air of disdain, and it didn’t take a genius to realize this was a man who
had a dislike of the military. “I’m just along for the sights, Doctor,” Shawn
said in jest.

   Uudon either didn’t catch
the inflection or didn’t think it was very funny. He simply grunted his
disapproval and turned back to Melissa. “You have questions, no doubt, about my
presence here.”

   “I do,” she answered with a
nod.

   “Excellent. Then let us
begin,” Uudon said. He took a seat in one of the empty chairs nearby. “I’m
anxious to get back to my work, and the lot of you are—quite frankly—in the
way.”

   Melissa took a seat
opposite the doctor. “I’m afraid it’s not as easy as that, Doctor.”

   Uudon folded his arms
across his chest. “I’m a very busy man, Miss Graves, made even busier by your
intrusion into my work. If you’ll kindly begin your interrogation, please.”

   Melissa sighed, then
withdrew a video recorder from her backpack. Placing it on the floor between
them, she switched it on. “First, Doctor Uudon, I’d like to know exactly what
you’re doing here.”

   The doctor leveled his eyes
at her as if he were studying her. He seemed to scan every pore on her face,
every strand of hair that was within his range of vision. “I am, quite simply,
on the verge of making a breakthrough in Unified Historical research. And, if
I’m correct, it will have enormous repercussions across the entire Beta
Quadrant and beyond.”

   “Here?” Shawn asked
sardonically. “In a hole in the desert?”

   “Yes, Commander,” he
replied acerbically. “Here, in this very hole, as you put it so
inarticulately.”

   “What is this discovery?”
Melissa asked.

   Uudon studied her once
more, then smiled with self-satisfaction. He unfolded his arms, then leaned
closer to her. “I have discovered the purpose for the Meltranian invasion.”