The Lost Secret Read online

  How could it do what it had? And why hadn’t it slain the captain when it had the chance?

  Galyan remained beside the captain’s bed, his holoimage eyelids fluttering faster and faster as the AI computers deep in the ship ran through billions of computations.

  -18-

  Maddox awoke after ninety-two hours of heavy sleep. He’d dreamed constantly, even though he couldn’t remember any of them.

  “I’m famished,” he told Galyan. “Ow. I’m stiff, too.”

  Galyan informed him about the 92 hours of slumber.

  “That’s impossible.”

  “I do not see why it should be,” Galyan said. “I will agree, however, that it is highly unusual.”

  “You’re—of course, you’re sure. It makes sense why I feel so stiff, so tight. Why did I sleep so long?”

  “I do not know. Should I summon the medical people?”

  Galyan didn’t need to, as Meta rushed into the chamber with a tray of orange juice, toast and a nice thick steak and melon slices. Behind her followed several medical personnel.

  Maddox sat up gingerly as the medics examined him, among them Doctor Harris.

  “The quick heal did better than ever,” Harris said. “Your flesh is pink.” She meant the circular area on his chest. The red-hot mark had burned off all his chest hair, but the skin looked healthy now.

  “The quick heal aided his interior healing as well,” a different medic said as he shut off his scanner.

  Harris eyed the captain.

  “You want to ask me something?” Maddox said.

  “Your healing was faster than it should have been even for you,” she said. “Can you account for it?”

  “Luck?”

  Harris shook her head. “If you think of anything that would explain it, please let me know.”

  “I have an idea,” Galyan said. He told the assembled people about the infrared ball of light he’d found over the captain.

  “You should have reported it immediately,” Meta said.

  “We have been unable to harm or follow it,” Galyan said. “I did not see a reason to report.”

  “That’s not the point,” Meta said.

  “Excuse me, please,” Harris said. “Did the infrared light beam any rays at him?”

  “I did not perceive such an occurrence,” Galyan said.

  “I’d like to run more tests in the machine,” Harris told Maddox. “The ball of infrared light might have done something to you that could explain the fast healing.”

  “Later,” Maddox said. “I’m famished, thirsty and anxious to speak with the professor.”

  “I wouldn’t wait long for the examination,” Harris said. “There could be side effects or other maladies we haven’t spotted due to alien interference.”

  Maddox nodded as he accepted Meta’s tray, putting it over his lap so he could begin breakfast.

  “I really do insist, Captain. This could be deadly serious.”

  “I heard you,” Maddox said. “I’ll be in for further tests when I can. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  Harris’s jaw stiffened as if she would become stubborn. Then, she relented, nodded to the others, and the medical personnel filed out.

  Maddox dug into his breakfast, eating with gusto.

  “Whatever happened hasn’t ruined your appetite,” Meta said.

  “I have a faster than normal metabolic rate,” Maddox said. “After ninety-two hours, I need this. Where’s Ludendorff? And have you set your sensors to scan for the entire electromagnetic spectrum?”

  “Not entirely, sir. I am searching through the infrared, visible light and the ultraviolet. I have other sensors to detect the rest.” Galyan then explained about Ludendorff and his secret assignment.

  “I didn’t give him a secret assignment,” Maddox said.

  “That is what I thought, sir, and I told the professor so. He would not relent and remained silent on the topic.”

  “Get him up here, and make sure it’s the real Ludendorff.”

  Galyan disappeared.

  “You shouldn’t be so curt with Galyan,” Meta said. “He’s worried about you.”

  Maddox glanced at his wife. “Come here,” he said.

  She sat down beside him.

  He gently pulled her face down, kissing her. “Thanks, love, for everything. I appreciate it.”

  “What happened exactly to the impostor? Do you know?”

  Maddox shook his head.

  “I’m frightened,” Meta said. “This alien sounds unstoppable. It almost killed you, did kill you. Why didn’t it finish it while hovering over you in the infrared?”

  “One of the reasons I want to talk with Ludendorff,” Maddox said.

  Meta touched his face, smiling at him. “I’m so glad…” She turned away as tears welled.

  Maddox pulled her against him, stroking her hair, consoling her. He was glad to be alive, very glad. What had the head-sized holoimage been, the one the Ludendorff imposter had said would take care of everything?

  Then, he focused on Meta as she snuggled even closer…

  -19-

  Meta left to check on the Iron Lady. Maddox gritted his teeth and swung his legs off the bed, standing and practicing walking around the room. He completed his sixth circuit when the door opened.

  “Oh, hello,” Ludendorff said. “Is this a bad time?”

  “Come in, come in,” Maddox said, who staggered to the bed and collapsed into it. He used a control to raise half so he could comfortably sit up.

  Ludendorff pulled up a chair, sitting.

  Maddox noticed puffiness under the Methuselah Man’s eyes and a gray skin color he’d never seen before.

  “What are you working so hard on that you’re driving yourself into exhaustion?” Maddox asked.

  “Eh? The project, of course. Don’t tell me Galyan was right about an imposter Maddox giving me orders.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Could your death experience have caused you to forget about giving me the assignment?”

  Maddox scowled. He didn’t like this talk about him dying and being resuscitated. He hadn’t seen any angelic lights, heard any heavenly music or the fires of cackling Hell. There had been blackness, grayness and the tight fit of stuffing the essence of himself back into his body—

  “What is it, my boy? You remember something.”

  Maddox gripped the metal rails around his bed. His grip tightened until his hands began to ache. He forced himself to let go and stretched his fingers by pressing each against the finger of the other hand.

  “We have an alien aboard,” Maddox said in a hoarse voice. “It can appear as any of us. It can appear as light, even infrared light. Does that ring any bells?”

  “Pardon?”

  “As a Methuselah Man. Do you remember anything from your Builder days that would match such a description?”

  Ludendorff ran several fingers across his face as he looked away with a distracted air, finally shaking his head. “I can’t think of anything.”

  “What orders did the counterfeit me give you?”

  “I’ve been working on a device, but it’s gone now. I’ve searched for it everywhere and can’t remember losing it. Do you suppose this alien took it?”

  “What kind of device?”

  Ludendorff blinked several times. “I’ll be damned. I can’t remember that either. Do you think that’s deliberate?”

  “That you’re lying to me?”

  “No, no, don’t be ridiculous. Do you think the counterfeit you—oh, no. Did the alien tamper with my wonderful mind? The idea of that—” Ludendorff jaw muscles bulged in agitation. “I hate this. I wish aliens or any others would stop meddling with me, with my dearest abilities.”

  Maddox stared at the professor. The Methuselah Man’s anxiety seemed genuine, but then again, the man was a good actor. “If you remember later what you developed, let me know.”

  “Of course,” Ludendorff said. “But what do we do in the meantime? My
forgetfulness is horrifying. Has the alien tampered with me? I must know.”

  “You don’t remember such aliens or anything remotely like them from your Builder training?”

  “Well, now that I’ve had a moment to reconsider…some of its actions and abilities sound like an Erill. That’s the closest kind of alien I can think of.”

  “That’s interesting you should mention an Erill. I’ve thought about the City of Pyramids. If this thing has specifically targeted me—”

  “It clearly has,” Ludendorff said.

  “If it’s related to the Erills or to the City of Pyramids it makes more sense why it’s after me.”

  “There is another factor: your stolen Erill energy. That…” Ludendorff shook his head. “I don’t like where this is going.”

  “Me neither,” Maddox said. “From what has happened so far…I’d guess the entity is testing or scouting us.”

  “How could you possibly have reached such a conclusion given the evidence?”

  Maddox told the professor how as an infrared ball of light the alien had called Galyan, and then disappeared once seen. Clearly, the entity could have slain him before summoning Galyan.

  Ludendorff blinked as if he was having trouble thinking. He did it again, an odd performance and perhaps a worrisome one given the alien. “There is another possibility,” he said at last. “We’re headed into strange territory and targeting a unique place, the Library Planet in particular. Perhaps this creature learned about our destination and is taking precautionary measures.”

  Maddox was slow in speaking, finally asking, “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’m…I’m not sure. This is most peculiar. I believe I’m having one of those intuitive feelings that you trust in yourself to an inordinate degree.”

  “I trust mine, not yours.”

  “Yes. That was what I meant.”

  “And?” asked Maddox.

  “The intuitive thought refers to the Library Planet. It has a…um defense mechanism of extraordinary power. I—I can’t quite remember what the mechanism does, but I have this feeling, you understand? I realize that’s probably an unsatisfactory answer—”

  “It is.”

  “Confound it, my boy, I just said that.”

  “You didn’t die and get resuscitated, Professor. I did. I want to know why the alien attacked me and what it is exactly. Is it physical, energy, or spiritual, or some strange mixture that can create or mutate matter into an imposter human?”

  “I understand. Yes. I understand completely. Such an alien and dying and reviving can affect one’s thinking.” Ludendorff snapped his fingers as he brightened. “I’m beginning to believe I have a glimmer of an idea what I designed and built in secret.”

  “The device you lost?”

  Ludendorff nodded. “It also has to do with the Library Planet. It’s a key.”

  “Our destination is key to all this?”

  “What? No! That wasn’t what I meant. The device I built was some kind of key.”

  “Oh. Yes, yes, a key. What kind of key? What does it unlock?”

  Ludendorff shook his head. “I have no idea, my boy. I’m riffing, using my emotions, my intuitive feelings about this to try to sense more. I think the device I built is a key, but I could be way off about that. I don’t believe I am, mind you, but—”

  “Professor,” Maddox asked, interrupting.

  “Eh?”

  “I just realized that you haven’t said anything about the Library Planet, about the star system it inhabits.”

  “What do you want me to tell you?”

  “Things that could help us get ready for it. All we know so far is that the library itself was underground. I remember that from when you first remembered it as we headed for the mobile null region last mission. Can you tell me more about the planet?”

  Ludendorff looked away as he scrunched his thick brows. “Unfortunately, the memories are mostly fuzzy. I still recall the time crawling in the ducts and climbing the pillar in the Crystal Oracle Chamber. I can still see Strand in my mind’s eye. He was so much younger then, and he stood straight back in the day.”

  Maddox didn’t say anything, not wishing to interrupt the Methuselah Man’s recollections. It would be hard remembering something from perhaps two thousand years ago. How much data could one mind store, year after year stuffing more memories and incidents into one’s brain? He couldn’t remember exactly what he’d done eleven years ago on a specific day, never mind two thousand.

  “Ah!” Ludendorff said. “I think this is what you want. It’s an ice planet, an ice world. Yes. A red dwarf star glows faintly against the darkness of space. Red dwarfs are some of the smallest and coolest stars in the universe.”

  “I know that,” Maddox said. “Yes. Good. Keeping going, Professor. What else?”

  “The ice planet is too far away from the red dwarf to feel any heat. The planetary surface temperature is wretched, minus two hundred and twenty Celsius. Naturally, that means the entire planet is covered in a thick layer of ice. Water, ammonia, methane and nitrogen are all frozen solid at such temperatures.”

  “We can handle that.”

  “Not easily,” Ludendorff said. “Any unprotected life would instantly be turned into a popsicle.”

  “Why did the Builders choose such a place for their library?”

  Ludendorff looked away again. He groaned, batted his eyelashes and then turned fast to regard the captain. “Moons, many moons orbit the ice world. The moons generate tidal heat caused by their gravitational pull.”

  “Does the gravitational pulling cause the underground areas of the planet to shift or move?”

  “I don’t remember that,” Ludendorff said. “There is a vast subsurface ocean of water. The ocean helps sustain underground life. The tunnels are below the oceans. Yes, the library is deep and well protected.”

  “Protected by what?”

  Ludendorff went through his staring routine again, finally shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe the surrounding moons have missile silos or beam generators. Maybe the alien attacking us originates from there.”

  “You’re trying to tell me that the ball of light travels fifteen hundred light-years every time it makes an assault against us?”

  “What sheer nonsense,” Ludendorff said in a petulant tone. “It would have left the Library Planet a long time ago to travel to us, not beam across space a fantastic distance every time it attacks us.”

  “Okay, okay,” Maddox said. “Don’t get your panties wadded up over it. You’re doing good, Professor. I’m starting to get a picture of our destination. It’s still a long way off, too long. We don’t want to rely solely upon Laumer Points and the star-drive jumps to reach there. It will wear down our equipment, and we might never get back if we have a bad breakdown. If that’s not enough, reaching there could take months of steady travel.”

  “I take your meaning, my boy. You’re asking if there are any nexuses we could use, any I might not have mentioned before this.”

  “Are there?”

  “The one near the Throne World—”

  “Is out of the question,” Maddox said, interrupting. “Do you know of any others?”

  “Let me think for moment,” Ludendorff said, as he massaged his forehead. He scowled and shook his head. Then, he brightened suddenly. “You know, I do remember a nexus. It’s odd that I should. I don’t recall thinking about it before…” He stared at Maddox. “I’m not sure I like this. I’m beginning to feel the knowledge was stuffed into my brain. Who would have done that?”

  “Tell me about the nexus.”

  “Yes…I’m remembering more. Let’s see…” Ludendorff touched his fingertips as if calculating. “It would be two hundred and thirty-seven light-years from us, as it’s in the opposite direction from where we’re presently traveling. Roughly, it’s one hundred and ninety-two light-years from the edge of Human Space, but not in the direction we need to go this time.”

  “Why haven’t you ment
ioned it before this?” Maddox asked.

  Ludendorff shrugged.

  “That’s no answer,” Maddox said.

  “I don’t know why. I already said it’s odd. I know it’s there, though. I can see it clearly. If you want to use it, go. If not, don’t. The decision is up to you.”

  Maddox eyed the Methuselah Man. Fifteen hundred light-years to the Library Planet…most of it through regions in the Beyond they’d never been before—he’d like to avoid that if he could. He didn’t mind exploring, but there would likely be too many dangers and threats along the way, and they had a specific mission and might have to beat out New Men heading there. Dealing with various problems along the unexplored route would make the trip even longer. Granted, who knew what lay in this other direction. But it would be less unexplored territory to cross in total, and they would reach the Library Planet sooner.

  “Is the nexus intact?” Maddox asked.

  “Oh yes.”

  “Are there any others we could use?” Maddox asked.

  Ludendorff frowned. “There are—several more but much farther out, much farther. After a certain point, it doesn’t make sense to use them.”

  Maddox thought about that. Two hundred and thirty-seven light-years was a trek. They could try for the Throne World nexus, the one in the New Men’s general area. Given Strand’s knowledge of the Library Planet, gained from Ludendorff—the New Men might be guarding their nexus, meaning it would be safer to try for this other one. But if this other one proved to be defunct or was a figment of Ludendorff’s active imagination—

  Maddox took a deep breath, expelling it as if he was a smoker. Cross 1,500 light-years—or take a detour of 237 light-years to make it there in a single jump. They’d trusted Ludendorff’s memory before and won because of it. The Methuselah Man was usually right about these things. In fact, the Methuselah Man had turned out to be a great asset many times. It was time to trust his memory again.

  “We detour,” Maddox said.

  “I thought you would,” Ludendorff said.

  “Galyan,” Maddox called, deciding to begin the detour as soon as possible.