The Lost Secret Page 20

  Path finding was proving to be tiring work. Worse, they were traveling through normal space, meaning crawling through the star system. How the distorted space could bleed through and thus stop a star-drive jump or fold, she had no idea. She almost wanted to test the theory…almost.

  Valerie yawned, rubbed her sore eyes and continued to pilot the darter. She glanced at Ensign Derrick Magee. He watched the sensors with zealous intensity, half shouting any time he pointed out a correction. She yawned, forced herself to concentrate and noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She turned that way—

  Derrick jerked his head, once again staring at his sensors. Had he been staring at her?

  “Is something wrong?” Valerie asked.

  Derrick didn’t answer right away. And when he did, he said, “Uh… well…”

  “Spit it out, Derrick.”

  “You look tired, sir. Maybe the first mate should relieve you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Derrick did not reply.

  “You don’t think I’m fine?” Valerie asked.

  “I’m just an ensign, sir.”

  Valerie frowned, turned to him—he was staring fixedly at his board—and her frown eased away. Derrick was a first-year ensign, nervous, lacking confidence and clearly wanting to do well. This was a teaching moment. “I asked your opinion, mister. When I ask, I expect your professional answer, not a lame excuse.”

  Derrick looked up, surprised.

  “Do you think I’m fine or not?” Valerie said.

  “N-No, sir. You’re exhausted. You’ve been piloting for over seven hours straight. Don’t you trust the first mate to pilot?” Derrick blushed deeply. “I’m sorry. That was impertinent. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Valerie stretched her back and turned her head from one side to the other, twisting her neck. She was exhausted. Derrick had a point and he’d managed to say it respectfully. She eased over to the left and pressed a comm button, calling First Mate Gina Littlewood, telling her to come to the control cabin, as she would be piloting for a time.

  Soon, Valerie staggered into her quarters. She slipped off her shoes, pulled off her socks and crashed upon the bunk. She’d planned to take off her pants and shirt, but fell asleep before that.

  She must have been deeply exhausted, as she didn’t even dream.

  Suddenly, her eyes jerked open. It was dim in her cabin, but not completely dark. She still felt dead tired. Had she even slept?

  She turned to the right and eyed the clock. It showed she’d slept five hours. She needed eight after a tiring shift like that. Five was just starting to get her feeling normal again. She yawned, sat up and froze.

  Someone is in here with me.

  Once again, Valerie saw motion. Maybe she wasn’t wide awake yet, but still in that near dream-state, for she wondered if Lucas Rogers had returned with a knife. Would he hold it against her throat as he raped her?

  “Lights,” she whispered.

  The dim illumination brightened. There up at the joint between the ceiling and far bulkhead wobbled a blue hardball-sized—

  “Half-Life?” she asked, wide awake now.

  The blue globe ceased wobbling, remaining perfectly still as if it could hide through motionlessness.

  “If you think I can’t see you, you’re wrong. Why don’t you say something?”

  A narrow beam shined from the globe. Even though it had done this before, the effect surprised Valerie. She cried out, jerking her head and throwing up her hands to block the concentrated beam from shining in her eyes.

  “Stop that,” she said.

  The narrow beam ceased shining as another switched on. At the beam’s termination point appeared a wolf-like head of an Ardazirho alien with a large cranium.

  “Hello, Valerie,” Half-Life said. “I see it is no longer dark in here.”

  “How long have you been up there?”

  “I do not have to answer you, as I am not a part of your crew.”

  “True…” Valerie said. “But by not answering, you’re declaring yourself an enemy.”

  “That is not necessarily so.”

  “But that’s how I take it,” Valerie said.

  “Balron said you would hold a grudge. I told him he was wrong. But now I see—”

  “It has nothing to do with holding grudges,” Valerie said, interrupting. “We’re on a dangerous mission. You tried to mess with us before and are logically continuing to do so.”

  “That is false. I have come to warn you.”

  “Oh?”

  “You must turn back before it is too late.”

  “That’s kind of vague,” Valerie said.

  “It is all I can say at present.”

  “Nope. That’s not going to fly with me. In fact, if you don’t start getting specific, I’m going to call Galyan.”

  “That would be an error on your part.”

  Valerie wasn’t going to let Half-Life keep the upper hand or get the better of her. But how could she deal with him? She had a blaster in the top dresser drawer. She could burn the construct into hot, misshapen slag. Thinking that, Valerie stood and began moving toward the dresser.

  “You are agitated,” Half-Life said.

  Valerie kept her head down, wondering if the construct watched her face.

  “Why is your heart rate racing? What are you thinking, Valerie?”

  She looked up. The little intruding construct monitored her. “Listen here,” she said.

  Sparkles appeared, and the small blue construct began to fade away as it teleported.

  “Half-Life!” she shouted. But it was too late. The device was gone.

  Valerie’s shoulders slumped. Then she turned around. It was time to relieve Derrick and give Captain Maddox a call. It would appear the space-warped bubbles had something to do with Balron after all, as Half-Life was back.

  -36-

  The days lengthened as Victory slowly maneuvered past the thickening, wobbling space-warped bubbles. Maddox might have turned around, but Half-Life’s appearance spurred him on and logically showed they were on the right path. It was simple. If Balron’s messenger boy suggested they head back, it meant it must be possible to use the nexus for their purpose.

  Andros and Galyan searched diligently for Half-Life or for a contrivance that might hold and reenergize the construct. He had to be battery powered, right? In any case, they hadn’t seen a sign of either.

  “It would help if we knew his teleporting range,” Galyan said on the bridge.

  “A lot of things would help,” Maddox said crossly. “Now, no more excuses. I’m only interested in results.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  The next day, they neared the fourth terrestrial planet from the G-class star. It was 96.3 percent the mass of Earth and given its distance from the star, should have been a cold world. It wasn’t a hot planet, but it was definitely warmer than its distance would seem to indicate. There were hardy lichens, and the atmosphere would allow people to walk around without protective gear except for breathers. The instruments showed howling storms raging across the world, blowing rusted iron dust particles, much like on Mars.

  Given their relatively slow rate of travel, Andros and Galyan had time for dedicated scans. Andros ran a comparison to what they knew about the rest of the system and reported that despite their “tunnel” past the planet, the warped-space bubbles were thickest around it. That included the planet’s orbital path and around five million kilometers on either side of it.

  Galyan studied the planet, and besides the lichens and atmosphere, he found strange stone structures in three separate areas. One location in particular, near the equator, had twenty-nine low and broad-based—

  “Sir,” Galyan told the captain. “I have analyzed wind speeds, the abrasive effect of the rusty iron-dust particles, its duration across the centuries—”

  “Please get to the point,” Maddox said tersely.

  “The low structures are likely former pyramids worn down to w
hat we see today, or to what I see,” Galyan amended.

  Maddox’s stomach hollowed. “Pyramids like on the Erill Planet?”

  “I see you understand the implications, sir. Yes. That is a distinct possibility.”

  “No, no,” Ludendorff said, who eyed a flat device connected to a sensor. “The base structures—what’s left of the possible pyramids—are quite different from those on the Erill Planet. I thought what you did about a possible Erill connection several hours ago and rejected the idea,” he told Galyan before facing Maddox again. “The planetary structures are different and interesting. Now that we’re nearing the planet—and given our slow velocity—I would like permission to take a shuttle and explore the ancient structures. This could be why Half-Life warned us away, what Balron didn’t want us to find.”

  “Absolutely not,” Maddox said. “We’re all sticking together, not one or two of us scuttling off to a possible Erill Planet.”

  “I already explained that,” Ludendorff said testily. “This is not the same as that planet. What this is, however, is a priceless opportunity. I might never be this way again. Humans might not come this way for decades, maybe centuries. We owe it to science to explore the new and unusual.”

  Maddox remained silent, and it seemed as if he was no longer listening to Ludendorff but thinking about something else.

  “You and your precious ego,” Ludendorff said in a huff. “At least send Galyan down to take a look. He should record it for posterity.”

  From the captain’s chair, Maddox started, blinking, rubbing his eyes. Then he turned to Ludendorff. The captain’s gaze narrowed. It seemed as if he replayed in his mind what Ludendorff had said. “Professor, if you can’t keep a respectful tone while on the bridge, you’re leaving.”

  Ludendorff grunted something unintelligible under his breath.

  “Yes, fine, fine,” Maddox said. “I accept your apology. You can stay.”

  Ludendorff’s eyes widened in outrage and he opened his mouth to speak.

  Meta beat him to it. “Sir,” she said from her station. “I’m receiving a hail.” She looked up sharply. “It’s from Balron.”

  “Balron,” Maddox said, glancing at Ludendorff. “Put him on the main screen.”

  Meta manipulated her board. “I can’t, sir. It’s audio only.”

  “Now see here,” Ludendorff finally sputtered. “I in no way apologized for what you perceive as—”

  “Stow it,” Maddox said, interrupting the professor. He clicked an armrest control. “Balron?” he said.

  “Yes, Captain, it is I,” Balron said. “I see that you are quite persistent in your endeavor. I’m speaking of your journey in-system. Half-Life warned you against doing that, yes?”

  “What do you want?” Maddox asked.

  “What I want. What I want. Captain, if I must, I can thicken the distortions so it will be impossible for you to move forward. If at that point you do not turn back, I will maneuver the distortions until they encircle your starship. I do not wish to destroy you—”

  “Why do you want to delay us from using the nexus?” Maddox asked, interrupting.

  “I do not understand the question.”

  “We plan to use the system’s nexus to project ourselves to the Library Planet.”

  “I’m sorry,” Balron said. “What nexus are you referring to?”

  Ludendorff motioned from the side. When Maddox turned to him, the professor mouthed, “He’s lying.”

  Maddox pinched his lower lip and finally asked, “What are you, Balron? What is your connection with the Builders?”

  “None of that is germane to the issue, Captain. I bid you to turn back. When you have done so, then I will answer your question.”

  “I have a counteroffer. Answer me. Then I’ll turn back if you’re sufficiently persuasive.”

  “I have your word on that?” Balron asked.

  “Yes,” Maddox said without hesitation. He wondered at that moment concerning the range of Balron’s possible telepathic abilities. He picked up his headband, the one with Ludendorff’s anti-telepathy device. Slipping the band over his head, Maddox switched on the device.

  “What did you say?” asked Balron.

  “I agree to your condition,” Maddox said.

  “You have given me your word then?”

  “I have,” Maddox said.

  There was silence on the other end.

  Maddox glanced at Ludendorff. The Methuselah Man shrugged, holding up his palms. Maddox glanced at Meta, raising his eyebrows.

  “My instruments say Balron is still on the line,” Meta said.

  Maddox frowned at the armrest comm as he waited.

  “Why are you practicing deception?” Balron asked suddenly.

  “I don’t understand,” Maddox said.

  “Your behavior is rude and obnoxious.”

  Maddox laughed. “What is your interference with our mission? I’d call that pretty damn rude and thus obnoxious.”

  “Why are you blocking me, Captain?”

  Maddox grinned and raised a thumb to Ludendorff.

  Ludendorff smiled smugly, nodding and folding his arms across his chest like a man who has victoriously completed a championship game.

  “It is your destruction if you advance farther in-system, Captain Maddox.” Balron sounded agitated. “You have no idea of the real situation. Half-Life gave you a warning. I have now warned you. Yet, you attempt to deceive me by lying and using primitive blocking devices so I can no longer monitor the accuracy of your words.”

  “Sir,” Galyan said. “This is urgent.”

  “Just a moment, Balron,” Maddox said, muting the comm. “What is it, Galyan?”

  “Sir, I have detected energy waves emanating from the planetary surface. They are akin to the rays the Yon-Soth on the Forbidden Planet once projected.”

  “Similar, not the same?” asked Maddox.

  “That is correct, sir.”

  “Can you be more specific as to the waves’ origin?” Maddox asked.

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “Sir, they originate from under the surface of the equatorial ruins.”

  “Is that the essence of Balron?” Maddox asked.

  “What? Oh,” Galyan said. “You mean—I do not think so, sir.”

  Maddox clicked off the mute. “Good-bye, Balron. If you have something real to communicate, you know how to contact me. Until then, Captain Maddox out.”

  Balron said, “You have no idea of the danger about to unleash upon—”

  Maddox clicked the armrest button, cutting the connection.

  “Was that wise?” asked Ludendorff. “Should you have kept Balron talking instead?”

  Maddox did not respond, but tapped his chin. He looked up several moments later, staring at the main screen. “Show me the equatorial ruins.”

  Galyan gestured. The planet appeared on the main screen. A zoom shot brought a red dust storm into focus. The screen showed another zoom, and there might have been something behind thick clots of swirling red dust, but it was impossible to be sure.

  “Those are the coordinates to the equatorial ruins?” asked Maddox.

  “Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

  “Helm,” Maddox said. “Launch an antimatter missile at those structures, at the coordinates.”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” Keith said, as he manipulated his board

  Ludendorff licked his lips, advancing closer to the captain. He spoke in a low voice. “I’m aware you don’t like anyone second-guessing your decisions. I can almost understand it, too.”

  Without looking at the professor, Maddox waved him to silence.

  “Now see here,” Ludendorff said in a low and urgent voice. “Those are ancient structures, and you don’t know it’s a Yon-Soth down there. It’s not only a crime against knowledge to obliterate the ancient pyramids, but to slaughter such an advanced life-form. Think of what we could learn.”

  Maddox closed his eyes as if trying to hear better. He cocked his head as if listening even
harder…his eyes snapped open. He glanced at the professor and then clicked an armrest control. “Send three armed marines to the bridge on the double.”

  “Acknowledged, sir,” a tough-sounding man said over the comm.

  “If you’re trying to frighten me, it won’t work,” Ludendorff said. “If you want me off the bridge, just say so.”

  Maddox ignored him.

  “The antimatter missile is launching, sir,” Keith said.

  “Galyan,” Maddox said. “Guide the missile down to the ancient structures. Make sure the warhead detonates to create the most destruction possible.”

  “Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

  “A shuttle team could have explored the structures first,” Ludendorff said in a low voice. “They could have left an antimatter satchel behind, too. Do you really think a Yon-Soth inhabits the ruins’ subsurface?”

  Maddox turned to Ludendorff, staring meaningfully as if trying to impart a message to the professor without talking.

  Ludendorff frowned. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”

  “Sir,” Meta said. “We’re being hailed.”

  Maddox swiveled to face his wife.

  “It’s Balron,” Meta said. “Or he says he’s Balron. He wishes to speak to you.”

  Maddox jumped up, approaching Meta’s station, nodding to her as he did.

  She pressed a control.

  “Captain,” Balron said from the comm. “Do you hear me? Can you hear me?”

  “I’m here,” Maddox said. “What is it?”

  “You mustn’t strike the ancient planetary structures. That would be a terrible error.”

  “Can you tell me why?”

  “You targeted them. Thus, you already know why.”

  “Explain,” Maddox said.

  “Turn off your headband,” Balron said. “We can communicate more easily that way.”

  “That’s a negative,” Maddox said.

  “What’s going on?” Ludendorff asked quietly. The professor had followed Maddox and now stood directly behind him.

  Three beefy marines with blasters in their hands walked onto the bridge. They stared at the captain, obviously awaiting orders.