Report From Art Dent - Agent of Ten Torches

REPORT FROM ART DENT - AGENT OF TEN TORCHES

  When they gave me this one, I laughed. I was born on Whitworth in 2521, I grew up hearing the stories of the “Ghost of 686”. Kid at my school, Jamie, was obsessed with it. He kept trying to show me articles he’d found about it, one day I just snapped at him. Knowing then what I know now, I would have acted differently.   What kind of an assignment was this anyway? I assume they picked me because I ran the anti-Jericho stuff on Kurzon in ‘55, but now they sent me to look into a goddamn myth from a century ago?   When Mr {REDACTED}’s son gave me the option after {REDACTED}, to join this… thing, I said yes. I owed his family, and I had liked working for them. It was a good few years. We were going after some real bad people. It was hard, we lost some good men, but we were making a difference. Can’t say I felt the same back in the 40s with RepInt.   So yeah, if they were gonna send me after a myth, I was going to laugh, but I was always gonna do it.   We got to Kurzon in late 2565. I took with me two guys I knew from the {REDACTED} days. Young Jakob and Ekarian, an Indirian chap. They saddled us with a couple of science guys I didn’t know, and off we went. Made for an odd grouping. The science guys, Drs Stein and Li, were mostly muttering to themselves in hushed but excited voices. Jakob took an interest, kid had always liked the science stuff. They’d be chatting till late in the night aboard the ship. I didn’t mind so much, meant that Jakob could translate things for me later down the line in Valtin’s english.   I had an old contact from the RepInt days who had moved to Kurzon and he offered to introduce me to some of the locals. Tricky at first. Even if it was disproved a hundred years ago, sailors didn’t want to talk about the damn thing, for fear that some kind of curse would be placed on them or some such nonsense. We switched tactics, instead of formal interviews we started hanging around the bars where the miners would spend their time when they were on shore leave. Same thing, if they were from Kurzon, they weren’t talking about it. If they weren’t from Kurzon, they would laugh and say it’s just nonsense.   After weeks of this we weren’t any further than when we got here. Ordinarily, I’d have pulled the plug, but there was something in their eyes, a palpable fear. No simple superstition does this to people. The lads and I had a talk and decided one of us should get a job working the mines for a time. Ekarian volunteered, sparing my old bones.   A few weeks later he heard that a certain Captain Stockley had seen the “Ghost”. This seemed to be a rarity, if you encountered the “Ghost of 686”, legend says, you were lost already. The one case of a guy who came back, couldn’t pass it up.   In hindsight, I see why he felt cornered. Bit of a loner, we couldn’t figure out where he would hole himself up on leave, so we approached him outside the harbor. Never seen such a big guy so twitchy. He clocked the kid as we were approaching him. Already on edge, it took us a minute to calm him down. When we told him what we were looking into, he drew a sidearm. Ekarian drew his and here we were, back to the old days.   Voices were raised, threats were made, but eventually when Ekarian put his weapon down, so did Stockley. We left it at that, it was clear the man was too spooked to tell us a thing.   We caught a break when a miner came to talk to us at the bar. He’d seen us around. He said he’d be willing to talk if there was no way it could be traced back to him. He cited a number of ships that disappeared without a trace in the fifteen years he’d been working here. He said that those disappearances weren’t really reported, the legislature didn’t want the “Ghost” to scare off the mining corporations and their investors. When the Frontier Development Corporation started making moves in Kurzon, throwing wads of cash around in expensive buyouts, official policy became to sweep the unexplained accidents under the rug and buy the families’ silence.   I took a detour by the harbor archives to fact check what we’d been told. There were indeed over a hundred unexplained disappearances over the years. Not saying I believed in the “Ghost”, but I did believe there was something going on unnoticed, or perhaps willfully ignored. My contact in the legislature provided me with the report from the 2460s. Immediately, I knew something was up. Lazy, full of shortcuts and conjectures. I’d seen this kind of thing before, on Gaia. They’d been told what to write. I was willing to bet the same thing had happened here. However, with it being over a century ago, there wasn’t anyone from that team I could talk to to corroborate that theory.   Our new source introduced us to a friend of his. The guy was working on the harbor’s rescue ships and had recently been part of the team that found the wreckage of the RES Dunbar, reported missing some weeks prior. Ship had lost power and drifted for weeks. He said that when he was done gathering the crew’s corpses, he was told to incinerate them before getting back to port. They went up in ashes, along with any clues to what happened to them.   Our reputation must have changed around the harbor because one evening, Captain Stockley pulled me to one side at the bar. He said he was leaving the system tomorrow, but before that he wanted to clear his conscience.   He described the feeling of his ship losing power and beginning to drift. As the crew began to panic, he stayed on the bridge to watch. The strange cloud of energy was approaching his ship before taking a sharp left and swiftly disappearing towards the gas giants, like it had changed its mind. That, he said, was proof that this thing was sentient, or at least that it was alive.   Stockley boarded his transport and left the following morning. He never told me where he was going and I knew better than to ask. Made contact with my legislature source again and he confirmed that if something was indeed hiding between the gas giants, it would be really tricky to detect from Kurzon. We’d need to get closer.   The science guys got very excited at the prospect. Ekarian and I, less so. Even before they started talking about gravity wells and flares, I wasn’t too keen to hop into a ship and go check it out myself. But it sounded like the only way to get anything.   When the War reached Kurzon, we found shelter underground. Months passed as the planetary defenses fired at the Zzenddi landing crafts. Once the artillery went silent, information reached us that the Zzenddi fleet codenamed Scylla was moving on from the planet. Of course, that still meant we were essentially grounded ‘til the tide of the war would shift. In the meantime, Jakob and Ekarian volunteered at hospitals and civil defense centers, and the science duo worked me through some of their theories.   They had three theories. One, an AI piloted or automated ship that had been stuck in a programmed loop of some kind. It would explain its quasi animalistic hunting patterns. They did add that if this thing had indeed been hiding near gas giants for a century, it would be a miracle that it was still even functional, but not impossible... Second, a splinter Zzenddi craft from the first war. While a terrifying thought, it proved easy to refute. The Zzenddi did not appear in the system until the 2470s, and first investigations into the Ghost were from the 2460s. They also posited that the Ghost could be a pirate ship equipped with tech we did not know or understand, targeting lone ships and remaining under everyone’s radar. However, with Tortuga no longer a safe haven for pirates, it was even harder these days for pirates across Terran space to fence their goods or even hide properly. If they had amazingly advanced tech, we would know of them. And if they were pirates, they would probably not be going after scrappy mining ships. I had Ekarian reach out to some of our {REDACTED} contacts and he confirmed that it was improbable that pirates would be chasing such cheap fruit.   In December of 2578, with the war finally won, we could arrange our window for launch. With the shortage of ships across the system due to the Zzenddi rampage, we had to hire a freighter, the RES Concannon, out of New Silesia. The science guys boarded and told us they’d be fine. We didn’t need to worry, they said, this is what they love doing. I suggested someone go with them, just to be safe. Jakob immediately perked up and raised his hand. He’d become quite engrossed by this whole thing, the mystery of it all. Made me wonder if I ever had that fire when I was younger.   Selfishly, I was pleased. The thought of chasing an unknown ship in some old civilian freighter really had not filled me with confidence. So Jakob went, while Ekarian and I stayed on land for mission control.   Over the several days their outing took, we were regularly on comms with Jakob. After an encounter with a convoy burning Zzenddi corpses by the thousands, they finally approached Thetys. Jakob said the science guys had picked up a Tachyon trail. They also said it made no sense, no known ship type left this kind of trail behind them.   From then, comms became tricky. The gas giant’s energy output made it difficult to get a hold of the ship, but the updates kept coming. The trail led deep into Thetys’ orbit. As far as I know, they did make it to their destination. The last thing I got from Jakob before the ship completely dropped off the grid was a garbled mess. Ekarian suggested trying to get the recordings cleaned up. Guy we found in the harbor said he’d never heard anything like it. Took him a while, but eventually he returned the recordings saying he did the best he could. He even offered a refund. Ekarian insists that the only thing he could clearly make out was Jakob’s voice…   “Oh Gods it’s a…”   Jakob’s voice was not even trembling. It almost seemed like relief, like he was glad to have his answer. Regardless, kid was gone. One more good man lost. But that didn’t mean it had to end there. There was definitely something out there, and Ekarian and I were determined to find it. This had to be for something.   I called up the Foundation and Director Leipidius 117 immediately got on the horn to Mr {REDACTED}, and soon enough I was in a meeting with them both.   To his credit, the kid did seem genuinely affected by the deaths of the people on the Concannon. He asked what I thought we’d need to get this thing. I joked that at this point —-   “Might as well get a damn warship.”   The kid smiled and said to hang tight, he’d call back later.   A week later, when Ekarian and I met the unmarked frigate, we couldn’t believe it. I’d heard rumors that the {REDACTED} family was also behind the Foundation, so I knew we could get good hardware if we needed, but a damn Frigate? While the crew were clearly under instruction to avoid telling us where they were from, they all had a {REDACTED} accent. Maybe this kid had even more behind him than I gave him credit for.   I suggested to the {REDACTED} crew to equip the frigate with E-Psi and a swarm of drones. If this thing can take out ships before they can record and transmit information, then perhaps the drones could take the aggression while the host would do the recording. The E-Psi would help us ascertain if this thing is sentient by conventional standards. It is a type of sensor that the Concannon definitely did not have. House {REDACTED} provided both, top of the line stuff, as always.   Couple days after the ship arrived, Ekarian asked to be transferred back to the main office. He felt the situation was in hand and his father had passed away some weeks ago. He’d missed the funeral. So with me pushing seventy and Ekarian gone, they sent us a new security man, to look after the labcoats. Ex-spec ops called Rayburn. He’d seen some action during the war and went private soon after. There was something disconcerting in his eyes. He stood tall, straight as an arrow, almost exaggerated. When he shook my hand, he shook it harder than he needed. When he talked to people, he talked louder than he needed. It’s like he had to prove he was as tough as he looked.   While in theory I was there as “the expert”, it was clear that my role was largely ceremonial, a favor to an old man. Dr Lockyear, bless her, did her best to avoid making me feel like a spare part, but she had a lot of work to focus on, none of which I could help with. With Rayburn not particularly willing to engage in conversation, I spent most of my time with Captain Kleves, an affable and proud man.   We reached Thetys in good time. I’d never really taken to looking out into space while traveling. This time however, I was glued to the glass. I took in every color, every nebula, every single star in the distance. I wondered what it must have been like, being the first man in space. All this beautiful emptiness. I regret not seeing it sooner.   After a few days of scanning and data collection, Lockyear announced that the labcoats had located an anomaly. An area of space with much lower radiation than the rest of the area around the gas giant. Dr Lockyear specified she objected to it, but the crew had given it a name:   The Heart Of Darkness.   A very weak transponder signal from the RES Concannon was detected inside. The Captain said there was a chance the crew might still be alive, but I knew better. I’d done my grieving. The kid was gone.   The Frigate dove straight into the gravity well towards the signal. On the bridge, I saw the small shape of the Concannon cutting a silhouette in front of the overwhelmingly massive blue shape of Thetys. As we got closer, it became clear that the freighter’s integrity seemed intact.   After conferring with his XO, Kleves stated that it would be impossible to tow the Concannon out of the gravity well. In fact, time was against us. The Concannon was slowly sinking deeper into the well. If we wanted anything from it, we needed to hurry.   Three teams suited up and EVA’d towards the Concannon. The first team reported no signs of life. No escape pods or space suits were missing. All there was left was dust. The kid was gone. I got a hold of myself in time for the second team to return with the Concannon’s black-box. Lockyear and her team immediately pounced and it disappeared into a mass of white labcoats.   Kleves asked me what we were hoping to find, out in the middle of nowhere, in the shadow of an impossible amount of radiation. Considering my answer, I realized that trying to sum up the past fifteen years of my life only made me sound like a madman.   Mercifully, I never needed to answer, as Lockyear ran up on the bridge and summoned both of us down to the lab. The black box had recorded unusual data. The lifesigns aboard the Concannon all spiked in one moment, at the same time as a huge blaze of light was recorded coming from the Heart Of Darkness. And then nothing. All of them went silent at once.   The third EVA team returned. Without Rayburn. Dr Fayn, when she removed her EVA helmet, looked terrified. Apparently Rayburn had begun to act in a threatening manner towards the team. He had suddenly attempted to grab Fayn by the collar, but she successfully evaded him and returned to the ship in a hurry.   Rayburn was on the way back too. He was not answering hails from the Frigate. Kleves and several crew members rushed to arm themselves as Rayburn reentered the ship.   We tracked him through the ship’s surveillance systems as he made his way to his quarters in complete silence. He sat down on his bunk and stayed completely still. Even when Kleves and the crew entered the room, he did not move. He has not said a word since.   Still on the bridge, I felt something. A thought like a gentle but cold breeze, the need to look into the Heart. Something had changed. The color had shifted, the blue of the gas giant’s surface was darker. I looked to Lockyear, who was absorbed in reading data that was coming in. She looked like she was trying to make sense of something impossible.   I made my way to her station and peered at the screen. The E-Psi had been quiet during the entire journey. We’d not passed a single ship, it had no reason to. And then and there, in the middle of the darkness and the chaos of uncertainty, with Kleves away from the bridge and Lockyear distracted.   It beeped.   Dr Lockyear heard it too. The single green dot in the center of the monitor blinked several times, larger with each beep. Lockyear stepped away from the console and held her head in her hands. I got on the horn and raised Kleves.   I felt the breeze again, colder, sharper, like a sting inside my head. Glancing across the bridge, I noticed one of the navigators rubbing his temple. Another was shaking his head, as though he was nodding off. I was not the only one feeling this.   But past all of them, past the people, the instruments, the glass, the Heart’s color had changed again. Darker still, no hint of blue anymore. Then came the light. The brightness slowly grew from within the Heart, and for an instant, I saw its face.   As radiation alarms started to blare and red light flooded the bridge, I felt myself walking closer to the glass. I walked past Kleves barking orders, navigators running scared and Lockyear’s voice occasionally piercing through.   In the Heart, the growing light cut the shape of something impossibly large. I was wrong, the surface of the gas giant wasn’t what was changing color. It was something else, something massive coming closer to the surface.   The light was growing brighter. It was so bright it hid the dark silhouette I had glimpsed. It was coming closer, in so much as light could. I could feel its warmth on my skin through the bulletproof glass of the warship’s bridge.   And then another flash of cold light. I blinked and suddenly instead of the Heart, I was facing the emptiness of space. The in-system jump that Captain Kleves ordered and operated to get us out of the Heart had been successful. We had survived our encounter with the Ghost. We survived today.   We were in a warship that can raze entire cities to the ground in instants. There were several dozens of us, with lifetimes of experience. Degrees from the most prestigious universities, experience in the most brutal of conditions. We conquered the vastness of space and bent space and time to travel faster.   And to this thing we were nothing but dust.

ADDENDUM FROM LEIPIDIUS 117 - DIRECTOR OF TEN TORCHES

  The Frigate was returned to the {REDACTED} navy and the crew was debriefed. The BlackBox of the Concannon is being decrypted in our site on New Silesia. With the confirmation of the existence of Anomaly-106, Dr Lockyear has deemed the mission a success.   I am writing to discuss Mission Director Dent. His behavior since returning from the mission has been erratic and obsessive. Several staff members have reported that the mission appears directionless, with Director Dent refusing to engage with containment plans or further exploration of the location of Anomaly-106.   I advise that Mission Director Dent be removed from his command and offered retirement. I advise that he also be closely monitored, to mitigate the risks of him discussing Anomaly-106 with the general public.   I will personally supervise this operation for the time being until a suitable replacement can be found.