Following the beams had not been easy. Plotting their course was not difficult. They shone through the nothings like a beacon to Her/Their sensors. It was their inflexible straightness that created the problems. They sliced unfailingly through every part of the chaos. She/They was forced to follow whereever they led.
The zone She/They was entering was one of strangely disarranged matter. It appeared to have been torn up by the disrupters, but not totally destroyed. It was like a fold in the nothings, an eddy that was filled with fantastic debris created by an unknown intelligence.
She/They floated about a metre above an expanse of dark red viscous liquid. Huge insect-like creatures were crowded together, half submerged. They jostled and scrabbled at each other. There was the click of claws on carapaces and the crack of powerful mandibles. Occasionally one would snap up at Her/Their feet, but She/They managed to keep out of the creatures’ reach.
The red liquid slowly gave way to a strange kind of swamp. Clumps of spiky purple vegetation poked up through the surface. The huge swimming insects were left behind, and replaced by much smaller flying ones. They flew at Her/Their face but, at the last minute, they would veer away, and none of them actually touched Her/Them. Above Her/Them saffron clouds sped across a threatening magenta sky. She/They, however, felt no motion at the level She/They was on.
All at once, Her/Their sensors began to jangle.
‘Disrupter.’
The word hung in front of Her/Them like a flashing warning sign. She/They stopped abruptly, and shut down as much of the flow of energy through Her/Their being as possible. She/They hung in space, still and almost dead. Only Her/Their visual sensors were still operating.
The most distant clouds seemed to be being sucked down, and the surface of the swamp lifted up to meet them. Then the disruptor appeared over a kind of false horizon between the two.
The disruptor was solid, cylindrical and half buried in the surface of the swamp. It sucked in matter through the gaping maw in its forward end. Behind it, it left a trail of sparkling grey chaos, suffused with rainbow patterns that gradually faded as it moved away.
The thing came towards Her/Them. She/They cut Her/Their energy circulation to the absolute minimum. Her/Their perception of colour began to fade. One moment, the smooth sides of the disruptor were an intense metalflake blue, then they changed to a flat grey as the power to Her/Their visual sensors decreased.
She/They hung limp and immobile. The disruptor seemed unaware of Her/Their presence. It continued on a straight course that, unfortunately, lay in Her/Their direction. For moments it seemed as though She/They might be sucked into its squat reptile mouth simply by accident.
Then it passed Her/Them. It was close enough for Her/Them to perceive the markings on its smooth metallic sides. It was obviously some kind of graphic script, but in Her/Their low energy state She/They was unable to decipher it.
The disruptor continued to move away. She/They cautiously raised Her/Their energy level enough to turn one of Her/Their three heads and watch it go. The disruptor didn’t seem to notice the slight fluctuation. She/They moved Her/Their energy rate even higher to allow Her/Them to consider the problem. Colour returned to Her/Their vision.
‘Hypothesis. The disruption module’s energy detectors only operate on higher patterns.’
‘Inoperative. We have positive information to the contrary.’
‘Hypothesis. The carrier beam generates its own field that repels the disruptor module. Such a field could mask our own energy trace.’
She/They conceded.
‘A possible option.’
She/They allowed Her/Their energy level to move back up to maximum. She/They began to move again, carefully following the course of the beam.
***
Jeb Stuart Ho sat in the J-class flightcraft with the twenty-nine other brotherhood executives. Their bubble helmets were sealed shut, and umbilical lines ran from the side walls of the craft’s sparse interior to the front of their suits, When the time to jump came, these would be disconnected and they would rely on the suits’ own life support systems. Until then, while they were still in transit, they remained hooked into the ship.
There was no conversation. The suit to suit communicators were only used for messages of the utmost importance. The task force were seated in pairs, on two-man padded benches. Over half of them had assumed postures of meditation. Jeb Stuart Ho wasn’t one of them. He had tried for a while to make his mind go blank. He had given up when he realized he was too keyed up by the task even to achieve the most minimal state of trance. Instead, he just let his thoughts wander where they might.
The speaker in his helmet crackled into life, and brought him back to reality. He heard the flat metallic voice of the auto pilot.
‘Drop zone approaching. E.T.A. ten minutes. Forward scanner is being relayed to bulkhead screen.’
The large screen at the end of the passenger area came on. In the centre of it was a small pale blue sphere. It slowly but steadily grew larger until it filled half the screen. There were no markings on it of any kind. Jeb Stuart Ho felt a twinge of disappointment. He had expected Stuff Central to be a little more impressive. The speaker crackled again.
‘Drop to target minus ninety and counting.’
Jeb Stuart Ho took a deep breath and made a final check on his equipment. Everything was perfect. On the screen, the blue sphere continued to increase in size. It almost filled it.
‘Minus sixty and counting.’
Jeb Stuart Ho swallowed. The dryness of excitement made his tongue feel thick and sticky. Inside the gloves of his fighting suit, his palms began to perspire slightly.
‘Minus fifty and counting.’
The screen was now totally filled with an expanse of blue. Jeb Stuart Ho tensed in his seat.
‘Minus forty and counting. We have now entered the stasis area of the target. Outside conditions are a perfect vacuum. Minus thirty-five and counting.’
Jeb Stuart Ho shifted in his seat. He tugged at the straps on his laser unit to make sure it was securely attached to his suit. The speaker continued to chatter.
‘Minus thirty. Equalizing interior conditions with outside.’
There was a faint hiss as the craft atmosphere escaped into the vacuum surrounding Stuff Central.
‘Minus twenty-five. Switch to individual life support.’
Jeb Stuart Ho pulled the umbilical line from the front of his suit. His own life support cut in automatically. A thin trickle of condensing gas flowed from the open end of the tube.
‘Minus twenty and counting. We are now orbiting the target.’
On the screen, the blue sphere had shifted to form a slightly curved blue horizon. The surface still looked smooth and unblemished. Jeb Stuart Ho was only now beginning to realize the vastness of the sphere.
‘Minus fifteen. Going down to surface on target; twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight; stand by, releasing jump hatches.’
Three wide sections of panelling fell away from either side of the flightcraft.
‘Prepare to jump.’
The thirty black suited figures moved to the open hatches. They stood in front of them, five to a hatch.
‘Five, four, three.’
Jeb Stuart Ho tensed all his muscles.
‘Two, one, JUMP!’
In perfect unison, the executives rolled out of the flightcraft into empty space. There was a fall of about five metres to the surface of the sphere. Jeb Stuart Ho twisted in midair and landed heavily on all fours. His training prevented him from suffering any kind of injury. He lay flat on the smooth, blue, metallic surface and looked around. The rest of the force was spread out over a wide area, but they all seemed to have landed safely.