Hellworld (Deathstalker Prelude) by Simon R. Green Page B

and no doubt knew her job. If she wanted to stand watch, that was up to her. Personally, he put his faith in the screen and the mines. Hunter closed his eyes, and let the day drift away.
    Night sank slowly over the plain, the darkness deep and concealing, the only light the soft golden glow from the field lantern. Thin curling mists rose up around the camp, pressing close against the force screen with sullen perseverance.
    Krystel sat at the base of one of the statues, at the edge of the lantern’s light. The end of her cigar glowed a dull red in the gloom. She couldn’t sleep, force screen or no force screen. She didn’t need much sleep anyway. She was an Investigator. This wasn’t the first time she’d sat guard on an alien world, but it always felt like the first. On a new world, you could never be sure what you could count on, and what would let you down. What was safe, and what was just waiting for a chance to jump you. On an unknown world, anything could turn dangerous without warning. In the end it was safest to distrust everyone and everything, and be prepared to fight for your life at a moment’s notice. Not very good for the nerves, but then Investigators weren’t the nervous kind.
    She tensed as something stirred close at hand, and then relaxed as Captain Hunter sat down beside her.
    “So, you couldn’t sleep either, Investigator.”
    “I don’t mind sitting guard, Captain. I’m used to it.”
    “What do you think of our new world?”
    “I’ve seen worse.”
    Hunter looked at her thoughtfully. “Krystel, what was it like on Grendel?”
    The Investigator took her cigar out of her mouth and blew a perfect smoke ring. She watched the smoke gradually dissipate into the air. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm and even, and only a little bitter.
    “It was my first major assignment. I did a good job on Loki, and my reward was a posting to the archeological digs on Grendel. It wasn’t called Grendel then, of course. We didn’t know what was waiting for us.
    “It should have been a simple, straightforward job, examining some ancient ruins and a few scraps of alien machinery discovered by the first wave of colonists. I should have known it was going to turn bad, the moment I set eyes on the city. The buildings on the surface were just gutted husks, but as we dug down, deeper and deeper, we came across structures so well preserved that they might have been abandoned only the day before. After a while we stopped digging; we couldn’t stand the sight of what we’d found.
    “The city spread out for miles beneath the surface, complete and intact. It was a nightmare of steel and flesh; a combination of breathing metal and silver-wired meat. There were rounded cylinders like gleaming, oily intestines, and pumps that beat like hearts. There were creatures that had become part of functioning machines, and complex devices with eyes and entrails. We found thinking machines that looked as though they’d been grown as much as built. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen such things. The crashed alien ship on Unseeli had been … similar, but the city was worse. Much worse. Whoever or whatever built and then abandoned the city wasn’t sane, in any way that we might understand the word.
    “Under the city we found the vaults. They were huge, monumental; as clean and shining as though they’d been built yesterday. They were locked tight, with no sign to show what they held. We all had different theories as to what the vaults contained, but we all wanted to open them. We’d never seen anything like the city, and we had to know more.
    “Looking back, I think we were all a little crazy by then. We’d spent too long down in the city, away from the sane everyday world above. I was in charge, so the final decision was mine. I was the Investigator, trained in the arts of understanding and destroying alien cultures. The city was vile, but so far we hadn’t come across anything actually threatening. And after