The Lost Earth (Lost Starship Series Book 7) Page 12

  “Did you see the mural down in the ruins?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “The Fishers shot the dark cloud—a Ska, I imagine—with weapons emitting rays of light.”

  Ludendorff shuddered before smiling again. “That could mean a variety of things. For instance, the rays of light could have a metaphorical meaning.”

  Maddox took his time. What had the shudder just now signified? What was going on with Ludendorff? Maddox had a feeling the professor didn’t realize how strangely he had been acting. If that was true—

  “Did I say something wrong?” Ludendorff asked, breaking into Maddox’s reverie.

  “You’re the archeologist,” Maddox said briskly. “You must have a better idea than metaphorical meanings. What did you find on the planet, Professor? What did you take to your laboratory?”

  The professor took the goblet and drained the remaining wine. He picked up an open wine bottle beside his chair and poured himself another glass. He drained that cup, too. Finally, he set the bottle and the goblet, unfilled, beside him on the side table.

  “Strand and I had to leave the planet in a hurry two hundred years ago,” the professor said. “Spacers chased us off, if you can believe that. I have concluded the Spacers view the planet as a shrine.”

  That didn’t seem right. “Why?” Maddox asked.

  “Please, my boy, don’t interrupt as is your habit. Let me conjure up the past from memory. That isn’t as easy as you would think. I am much older than you are, with thousands of more interesting memories that have squeezed into my mind.”

  “Ah,” the captain said.

  “I know, I know,” Ludendorff said with a sigh. “I have wounded your vanity. Others think you are a creature of ice. I realize that you are inherently vain. All New Men are like this. I’m not sure you know that about yourself.”

  “I do now,” Maddox said. “And I am only half New Man, by the way.”

  “You are taking offense, and that was not my desire today, tonight, whatever time it really is.” The professor sighed again, glanced longingly at the wine bottle and shook his head. “I’ve had enough. If I loosen my tongue any more, I’ll tell you truths that will blast your self-conceit into pieces. I have no desire to harm your vaunted efficiency.”

  Maddox wondered if the professor had been drinking before he’d agreed to the meeting.

  Ludendorff coughed into a fist, grinned at Maddox and leaned his head back against the chair’s rest.

  “Where was I?” the professor said. He closed his eyes. “Ah, I remember. Strand and I had to leave in a hurry due to pesky Spacer moralizers. I learned through the years that Strand had left behind on the planet an interesting number of relics stuffed into a carrying bag. I’d hoped to retrieve the bag—the reason I urged you to come to this planet.”

  Maddox remembered the bag Ludendorff had kicked while on the shuttle.

  “One of the relics gave me the sequences that have been allowing us to travel through the missile-mine belt,” Ludendorff said.

  “The Fishers put up those mines?”

  With his head laid back, Ludendorff frowned. “I told you not to interrupt. I mean it, my boy. I won’t tell you a thing if you keep squawking.”

  Maddox decided to wait. He could be patient when he needed to be.

  Once more, Ludendorff sighed. “In answer to your question, no, the Fishers did not put those missile-mines in place. Another ancient race did so. We must head to their planet next.”

  Maddox surprised himself. He found it difficult to keep quiet. He forced himself to listen instead of asking about the new planet.

  With his head resting back against the back of the cushy chair, Ludendorff seemed to be waiting. He almost seemed to be disappointed.

  “You didn’t interrupt,” the professor said. “How very interesting, Captain. That tells me you dearly want to know what I have to say. In other words, I have your undivided attention.”

  Maddox still remained silent.

  “Oh, I’m impressed now,” Ludendorff said. “I can feel the heat of your desires from here. Very well, here is what I know: The Fishers fell under the spell of the Ska left in their system. I don’t know why the Nameless Ones did that. The Ska turned the Fisher civilization onto an evil path. For reasons neither Strand nor I have determined, a subset of Builders managed to corral the Ska, keeping it from leaving the Fisher System. In time, they drove it mad. That’s how the story puts it, at least. The Ska used the Fisher star, causing it to expand like a red giant far before its time. That killed the Fishers. Perhaps the Ska thought that with them dead, the Builders would let it leave the system.”

  Ludendorff put his hands on his stomach, beginning to twiddle his thumbs.

  That proved to be too much for the captain. “Did the subset of Builders kill the Ska?”

  Ludendorff shrugged.

  “That’s not an answer,” Maddox said.

  “I don’t have an answer. I don’t know. That’s as far as the legend goes.”

  Maddox frowned as he considered what Ludendorff had said. “Wait. That doesn’t jive. You said we should go to the planet that built the missile-mines.”

  “I did.”

  “But you said a subset of Builders corralled the Ska in the Fisher System.”

  “You’re listening, I can see. The subset of Builders used the other planetary system to manufacture the missile-mines. Whether those aliens also built the weapon that halted the Ska, I don’t know.”

  “Have you ever been to that planet?”

  With his head on the back of the chair, Ludendorff rolled it from side to side.

  “I would think that would be an interesting planet to visit,” Maddox said.

  “You and I are in full accord there.”

  Maddox controlled his temper. The professor was likely trying to goad him. At times, it was better to let Ludendorff have his fun. The Methuselah Man usually made more mistakes that way.

  The captain reasoned out the correct response as a thought bubbled up from his unconscious. He almost snorted to himself. Instead, he said, “You’ve just learned most of this.”

  Ludendorff’s head jerked upright as he opened his eyes. “That’s a remarkable deduction, Captain. You’re right. I have read Strand’s notes left in the old carrying bag. The man—” Ludendorff glowered. “I would dearly like to know where Strand acquired that knowledge. As much as I am loath to admit it, in this instance, Strand’s knowledge surpasses mine on the subject.”

  “What else do you know about the Ska?” Maddox asked.

  “That about sums up my knowledge,” the professor said. “The next star system might or might not hold what we’re looking for.”

  “Does it have a name?”

  “The star system is over two hundred light-years from here,” the professor said. Fortunately, it’s near the system with the null region. I have never gone there, as I’ve said. Strand called it the Gnome System.”

  “Gnome? That’s an odd name. What does it signify?”

  “This is just a guess on my part,” Ludendorff said. “But I believe Strand meant to imply an alien race of artificers. Remember, they belong to the same time-period as the Fishers. That is ancient beyond belief, much older than your Adok starship.”

  “The Gnome System will give us a weapon to face the Ska?”

  “I thought you were listening. I don’t know if it will. But if any place can, I would wager that is the place to go.”

  “Do you have the coordinates?”

  “Indeed I do, my boy.”

  “Are you eager to go there?”

  Ludendorff reached for the wine bottle, letting red liquid gurgle into his goblet. He set down the bottle, picked up the goblet and stared at it. He glanced at Maddox.

  “I am eager, my boy, and I’m…concerned, let us say. The Gnome System will be dangerous, of that I have no doubt.”

  Maddox nodded.

  Ludendorff quaffed his drink, smacking his lips afterward. “Dangerous and ex
citing—the same two words I’d use to describe us, Captain. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Without a doubt,” Maddox said, wondering how much Ludendorff had left out.

  -29-

  Victory used star drive jumps as well as regular Laumer Point transits to race from the galactic edge up through the Orion Spiral Arm. They reentered Human Space, and from there, learned that more people had heard about the Swarm threat against Tau Ceti.

  How this had seeped out so quickly struck Maddox as fantastic. They were far from Earth. Yet, the news seemed to travel faster than a quick frigate could go from the Solar System to way out here via Laumer Points. According to the news, the knowledge had begun to create panic in many star systems. With the terrible news came some strategic information. It seemed the Swarm Fleet headed for Tau Ceti at high velocity. That was still at sub-light speeds, though. If Thrax’s saucer-shaped vessels had star drives, they had not revealed the ability. The bugs moved together in a mass just as Earth bees swarmed from their hive.

  “Rumors fly on the wind,” Ludendorff said in the cafeteria.

  “That’s all well and good,” Maddox said. “But there is no wind in space.”

  “Solar wind,” Keith suggested.

  Ludendorff clapped his hands, nodding in delight.

  The Adok starship continued to jump as a terrible sense of urgency had begun to take hold of the crew. Time kept ticking. When would Thrax’s saucer-shaped warships make their move? What would happen to the Tau Ceti System when the Swarm reached there?

  “I can easily envision mass chaos at Tau Ceti,” Ludendorff told Maddox.

  The captain seldom responded to such thoughts. Maddox had fixated on the Ska in the null region. If they couldn’t find a way to destroy it, or to drive it off the alien Destroyers, how could they dare to enter the null region?

  That was the other problem. How would they enter the null region? Last time, they’d made it into the strange space through an accident. Could they duplicate the feat?

  At last, Maddox decided they must have more information about the Ska. He could put Ludendorff under interrogation. That might work, particularly with Galyan’s help monitoring the Methuselah Man. Yet, the professor had many tricks, many sleights he no doubt kept in reserve. That was the trouble with using Ludendorff’s help—the Methuselah Man’s incredibly devious nature. When it came to milking the professor for information that he did not want to give…

  Maddox and Meta were lifting weights in the starship’s gym. Maddox bench-pressed while Meta did pull ups nearby.

  She was wearing tight-fitting garments and had tied her hair into a ponytail. Keith had suggested once that she cut her long hair to make things easier for her. Meta had scoffed at the idea.

  “Besides,” she’d said, “Maddox likes it long.”

  “Is that a good enough reason to keep it long?” Keith had asked.

  “Of course,” she’d said. “I look more feminine with long hair.”

  “I can’t deny that,” the pilot had said, ending the debate.

  Maddox racked the four-hundred-pound bar against the rests. He sat up, breathing heavily, having done ten reps.

  “Fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three,” Meta said between clenched teeth.

  Maddox grinned as he watched Meta. She’d been genetically altered like him. She’d also grown up on a 2-G planet. She was strong all the way around, including mentally. It was one of the reasons he loved her.

  “Keep going,” he said.

  Meta didn’t nod, but she continued to pull her chin up over the bar. Finally, after eighty-eight reps, she let herself hang down all the way and let go, dropping to the mat under her.

  “My biceps are burning,” she said.

  “You’re getting closer to one hundred pull-ups,” he said.

  She nodded as she massaged an arm.

  Maddox looked back at his bar. He kept staring at it, staring and—He felt Meta’s hands on his back. He turned with a smile.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Maddox made a face as he sat on the end of the bench-press bench. They were the only two in the gym at the moment.

  “I’m troubled,” he admitted.

  “About what?”

  “I think you know what.”

  “The Ska?” she asked.

  Maddox nodded.

  “We don’t know enough about it,” he said. “I’m afraid we’re not going to learn enough in time. If we fail to drive it off…”

  Meta became thoughtful. She stood closer and ran her fingers through his hair. “You always come up with a way in the end,” she said.

  “Maybe. But maybe I won’t this time.”

  “Too bad you couldn’t use Dana.”

  Maddox looked up at Meta.

  “What?” she asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “How can I use Dana?” he asked quietly.

  “She helped me remember once.”

  Maddox had forgotten this. Once Meta had secrets locked in her head. Dana had helped release the needed memories.

  “If she could tease more information out of Sergeant Riker…” Meta suggested.

  “Yes!” Maddox said. “That would be—” He shook his head. “Dana has yet to regain her full intellect. Until she does, I don’t see how she can help us.”

  “Figure out a way to restore her intellect.”

  “Me?” Maddox asked. “Ludendorff has tried and he can’t do it.”

  “You’re not Ludendorff. Maybe Galyan has a program—”

  Maddox stood abruptly. He kissed and hugged Meta. “You’re the greatest,” he said.

  She smiled with delight.

  “Come on,” Maddox said, grabbing her hand, pulling her with him.

  -30-

  Galyan had retreated inside the great Adok computer system. He saw himself as he’d been when he had been Driving Force Galyan, the living commander of his people.

  That had been before the terrible Swarm invasion six thousand years ago. Now, the Swarm had returned to destroy his friends, the humans. He had to help them. The thought of remaining in this place alone, with Maddox, Valerie, Riker, Meta, Keith and the others dead and gone—that was too terrible to contemplate.

  Yet, how could he escape the obvious conclusion? A Swarm fleet had entered Human Space. The Swarm Imperium controlled a nexus. He had to strive with everything in him to save his friends. They had to return to that dark realm where only the captain and he had been awake.

  Yet, how could he help restore Doctor Dana Rich’s intellect? It had taken a terrible beating last voyage…

  Inside the computer, which acted like a perfect holo-deck, Galyan stood on Victory’s bridge as it had been in the beginning. Ludendorff had tried to enlist his aid last voyage to help Dana, but he had not begged Galyan to exhaust every possibility.

  Galyan did not breathe, but he did sigh. The captain and Meta had asked him to exhaust every possibility. Galyan did not want to do that. There were some memories that were too difficult to remember. There were some things that made him infinitely sad and lonely.

  He did not like to be lonely. He had been alone for six thousand years. He knew something about the subject that few others ever would.

  Galyan wondered if the Ska in the null region was alone. He suspected it must be. Could they use that—?

  “You are evading your responsibility,” Galyan told himself. “Your family has come to you for aid. You are the elder in this situation.”

  Professor Ludendorff thought of himself as a long-lived person. Had Ludendorff survived for six thousand years? No, the professor had not. He knew very little about loneliness and long age compared to Galyan. As the elder, the protector—

  “Must I do this?” Galyan whispered to himself. “Must I torture myself in order to help Dana?”

  Galyan already knew the answer. He must exhaust every possibility. He had to restore Dana’s intellect. That was a difficult assignment, and yet, he had completed many difficult assignments for his new
family. They had come to him as a last resort. They had finally realized that he could do what possibly no one else could.

  Yet, they had not understood what they asked of him. They did not understand the pain he would have to endure by doing this. Galyan knew no other way to exhaust the possibilities.

  “My dearest love,” Galyan whispered. “I beseech you to come to me.”

  The self-identity of Galyan began to tremble with sorrow. Long ago, perhaps three thousand years ago, he had stored an immense amount of data in the image of his mate. There had been a strange ion storm that had come through the system. The storm had threatened his existence and threatened to erase all Adok knowledge. The only way he had thought to save this knowledge…

  “Galyan,” a female Adok whispered.

  Galyan dreaded this even as his electronic heart soared with delight. He turned around and looked upon the holoimage of his beloved mate.

  A human would not have been able to discern any difference in her appearance, but Galyan most certainly did. She was achingly beautiful. He had not done this for a long, long time, an eon. He had not—

  “My love,” she said. “Why are you so sad?”

  Galyan wanted to howl with agony. He missed his love, his mate, with an intensity that should have been impossible for an AI creature. It nearly drove him to despair. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, love her as he had when he had been flesh and blood. Alas, he could never do that again.

  “I. Miss. You,” he whispered. “I miss you more than you can imagine. I would gladly have died with you, my love, my life, my dearest one.”

  “Oh, Galyan,” she said. “You should not do this to yourself. You should accept your new family. You should build a life with them—”

  “Dearest,” he said, holding up a ropy arm, pressing a finger against her lips. “That is why I’ve summoned you. That is why I’m torturing myself once more. I…must know how to cure the mind of one of my sisters.”

  “Galyan?” his dearest asked.

  “I never thought I’d need the medical knowledge. But I did not want to lose it. I put it in you.”