The Lost Secret Page 21

  “I’ve tried to do this the friendly way,” Balron said from the comm board. “If you do not immediately cause the missile to self-destruct—”

  “No more innuendoes and half hints,” Maddox said, interrupting. “This is your last chance, Balron.”

  “No,” Balron said angrily. “That was your last chance.”

  A flash on the main screen caused an intensely bright light to fill the bridge. Many of the personnel cried out, most of them shielding their eyes. The glaring light faded until everything was normal again. To Maddox, after the intense brightness, it now seemed dim on the bridge. Clearly, Balron had detonated the antimatter missile.

  Light appeared on the bridge near the main screen. The light coalesced—

  “Captain Maddox,” Lord High Admiral Cook said. The white-haired admiral was standing near the main screen where the light had appeared. How the Lord High Admiral could have gotten there from Earth was a mystery. The admiral looked real enough, and he didn’t seem in any way surprised to be on Victory’s bridge. He acted as if knew exactly what was going on, too. “You will send a shuttle team to the equatorial ruins and initiate contact with the advanced life form there,” Cook said. “That is a Class A-A-1 Priority Order.”

  “Shoot him,” Maddox told the marines.

  The three marines hesitated as they stared at Admiral Cook.

  “Shoot him now!” Maddox shouted.

  The marines still hesitated.

  “That isn’t the admiral but an alien imposter,” Maddox said. “Shoot him before it’s too late.”

  The three marines raised their blasters.

  The Lord High Admiral raised his left hand. “No,” he said.

  The marines cried out, releasing their blasters so the weapons thudded onto the bridge deck.

  “This is insubordination, Captain,” Cook said. “I hereby relieve you of duty—”

  From a pocket in his jacket, Ludendorff lifted a blaster-sized device. He aimed at the admiral and clicked a button. No visible effect happened. Ludendorff did not stop, but kept the device locked on target with his thumb pressed down on the trigger.

  Suddenly, Lord High Admiral Cook jerked and turned to Ludendorff.

  “You officious old prick,” Cook said. “Stop this—” Before the Lord High Admiral could finish his speech, he literally began to dissolve and fade. Seconds later, all that remained was a ball of pulsating light. “Stop it,” the light said. “Stop it at once.”

  “Don’t stop,” Maddox told Ludendorff. “Increase the intensity if you can.”

  “No!” the light said.

  Ludendorff’s face screwed up with pain. At the same time, the small unit attached to his headband began to hiss as a wisp of smoke curled up from it. The Methuselah Man continued to aim the scatter-light gun at the alien, however.

  “Cease your attack,” the light said, but in a weaker voice than before.

  “Hot,” Ludendorff said. “The gun is getting hot.”

  Maddox ran to the dazed marines, each of them clutching their obviously painful hands. He grabbed a hand, examining it. There was no redness, no burn. He looked up into the marine’s eyes. They were glazed. Maddox bent down and touched a blaster. It wasn’t hot or even warm.

  “Cease the attack,” the light said. “I, Balron, command you.”

  Ludendorff cried out as the unit attached to his headband shorted out. He dropped the scatter-light gun so it hit the deck.

  Maddox ran to it.

  “No!” Balron said, his voice stronger now.

  Maddox’s headband unit started vibrating. The captain reached the high-tech gun. It felt normal. He picked it up, aimed it at Balron—

  The light disappeared, simply vanished.

  Ludendorff looked up, confused. Then he tore off the headband and examined the blackened unit.

  “Sir, what happened?” one of the marines asked.

  “Take your blasters and report to the armory,” Maddox said. “I’ll talk to you three later.”

  The bewildered marines did as ordered, gathering their blasters, having no problems holstering them. The three of them left the bridge.

  “What just happened?” Ludendorff asked. “How did you know Balron was going to appear like that?”

  “That wasn’t Balron,” Maddox said. “It was the thing hidden on the planet under the equatorial pyramids. It must have listened to our conversation with Balron and decided to pretend to be him.”

  “Is it a Yon-Soth then?” asked Ludendorff.

  “Maybe, but I doubt it,” Maddox said. “A Yon-Soth would have been far more powerful. Galyan!”

  “Yes, sir,” the holoimage said.

  “Are the energy waves still emanating from the equatorial ruins?”

  “No…” Galyan said.

  “Do you sense anything under the ruins?” Maddox asked.

  “I am attempting to scan—” Galyan stopped talking and froze.

  “Damnit,” Maddox said. “Andros, scan the ruins. Scan under the ruins. Keith, launch another antimatter missile. Then get us the hell away from the planet.”

  “In which direction, sir?” asked Keith.

  Because of the “tunnel” through the warped-space bubbles, they only had two clear options: in-system or out-system.

  Maddox glared at the main screen. “In-system,” he said quietly. “If the next antimatter missile explodes like the first, you’ll launch another. If that one also explodes, you’ll launch one after that. If we can’t kill it, we have to keep the alien busy.”

  “Erills would want the pyramids destroyed,” Ludendorff said. “Well, the worn-down nubs of the pyramids destroyed, and that’s only if the ancient structures hold a device that keeps the Erills from emigrating elsewhere, just like in the City of Pyramids on the Planet of the Erills.”

  “I doubt we’re dealing with Erills,” Maddox said.

  “But—”

  “Stow it, Professor,” Maddox said. “Run to your laboratory and get the rest of the headbands. We may need them.”

  “If—”

  “Hurry!” Maddox shouted. “If we don’t win through now, I doubt we ever will.”

  -37-

  Victory neared the fourth planet, coming to within half a million kilometers and closing. The path would take them within 223,000 kilometers of the surface. The second and third antimatter missiles detonated in succession, but far enough from the starship that the electromagnetic shield protected them from the radiation, heat and EMP. The fourth missile made it even farther than the others before it too detonated.

  “That’s the right tactic,” Maddox said, as he banged a fist against an armrest. “Launch the next missile, Mr. Maker. Let’s keep the bastard busy defending himself.”

  “Aye-aye, mate,” Keith said.

  Maddox glanced at Galyan. The holoimage was still frozen.

  The bridge hatch opened and Ludendorff rushed within. He wore another headband and carried four more in his fists.

  Keith, Meta, Andros and another officer donned the headbands, turning them on.

  “Do you have any more scatter-light guns?” Maddox asked.

  “Alas, no,” Ludendorff said. “I’ve been thinking—”

  “Sir!” Galyan said. “I am coming back online.”

  Maddox and the others turned to the holoimage. It was still frozen in place but could project speech.

  “The alien has ceased all energy-wave transmissions against us,” Galyan said. “I am referring to the machine under the equatorial ruins.”

  “What kind of machine?” Ludendorff asked.

  “An old one,” the frozen Galyan said. “There is a defense screen of an alien nature protecting it. My sensors cannot penetrate the screen. The alien and machine hide behind it.”

  “What happened to you?” Ludendorff asked. “Do you know?”

  “Something akin to jamming, I should think,” the frozen Galyan said. “Sir, I believe the alien is very close in nature to Balron, as it was essentially a ball-of-light entity.
”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Maddox said.

  “How can you say that, sir, given what we observed a little while ago on the bridge?”

  “The fact that you observed it gives me pause,” Maddox told Galyan. “Otherwise, the explanation is simple, given what happened earlier.”

  Before the captain could explain, the next antimatter warhead detonated. The flash wasn’t nearly as bright as the first time for two reasons. The warhead detonated farther away from Victory, and anti-glare technology was hard at work.

  “Should I launch another missile?” Keith asked.

  “Yes,” Maddox said.

  The ace manipulated his helm panel.

  “You were saying,” Ludendorff prodded the captain.

  “What’s that?” Maddox asked.

  “The explanation was simple, you said.”

  “Oh,” Maddox said, “simple. Yes. The marines’ hands were not burned or even warm. The blasters felt normal, too. That meant the creature didn’t cause heat, but made the marines believe the guns were hot. Notice, as well, that your anti-telepathy unit burned out. Why? Because it was overloaded by a harsh telepathic attack.”

  “I understand your implications, sir,” Galyan said. “You’re saying the alien used long-range telepathy against us. Two factors argue against the idea. First, you and the professor saw what the rest of us saw. Wouldn’t your T-bands have blocked such a thing if the images were strictly caused by telepathy?”

  Maddox scowled. Ludendorff grunted, looking thoughtful.

  “Second,” Galyan said, “the professor’s scatter-light gun hurt it. Could such a weapon have hurt a mere telepathic projection?”

  “I don’t know,” Maddox said.

  “Perhaps the creature and his machine projected more than mere telepathic images, but light that could coalesce into matter,” Galyan said. “Why else would the thing have caused the marines’ blasters to become hot if it was trying to stop itself from receiving blaster fire?”

  “The blasters weren’t hot,” Maddox said. “It made the marines think the blasters were hot.”

  “Perhaps the creature’s assault was a combination of light coalescing into matter and telepathic suggestions,” Galyan said. “If your headbands blocked all telepathy, you should not have seen the Lord High Admiral simulacrum or the ball of light, yet you both did. That leads to the conclusion the image was more than a mere telepathic suggestion.”

  “Okay, okay,” Maddox said. “Your explanation makes more sense than mine. And that was why you saw those things, because they were really here. It wasn’t just a telepathic suggestion.”

  “Hmm…” Ludendorff said, as he watched the next missile on the main screen head toward the planet. “I’d like to know how you knew to call the marines ahead of time.”

  “Yes,” the frozen Galyan said. “That is an interesting and relevant question.”

  Maddox sat back in his chair, thinking.

  The latest warhead detonated.

  “I’m launching the next missile, sir,” Keith said.

  Maddox nodded as he continued to ponder the situation. An idea developed. “Meta, were both calls today by the so-called Balron from the same origin points?”

  “I don’t know,” Meta said, as she turned to her board. She manipulated, grew tense and manipulated again. “I should have seen this earlier. The first communication originated from in-system nearer the star. The latter originated from the planet…beneath the equatorial ruins.”

  “Confound it, my boy,” Ludendorff told Maddox. “What in the hell is going on? What aren’t you telling us? How are you guessing these things?”

  “Maybe more to the point,” Maddox said, “is why did you make the headbands? What alerted you weeks ago to our desperate need today? The headbands likely saved our lives.”

  “You know the reason,” Ludendorff said. “I constructed mine against Balron—the real one, I suppose.”

  “You still have not told us why you summoned the marines ahead of time, sir,” Galyan said. “I do not mean that as a question to your command, but it appears as if you had foreknowledge concerning the need. If you did have foreknowledge, would it not be good to know how or why it happened?”

  Maddox nodded slowly, with a troubled look on his face. “I’m beginning to wonder… Your question and the thing down there makes me suspect we may have been wrong about Balron. Think about it. Why did we have anti-telepathy headbands today? Because the professor built his as a safeguard against Balron. Notice, too, that the professor built Half-Life according to Balron’s specifications, ones he put in the professor’s mind.”

  “Interesting,” Galyan said. “Balron did warn us against journeying in-system. He might have been warning us against the hidden alien on the planet. It would seem you are suggesting that Balron purposefully caused the professor to create the headbands in order that we had a defense against the hidden alien.”

  “Yes…” Maddox said.

  “That computes as a possibility,” Galyan said. “But if Balron has been beneficial to us, why did he shoot you with a deadly ray that first time?”

  Maddox sagged in his chair as a terrifying revelation struck.

  “You appear to have an answer,” Galyan said.

  “I don’t know,” Maddox said softly. “It’s crazy. I…I can hardly conceive of it as a possibility.”

  “I would like to hear your theory, sir,” Galyan said.

  “No one likes a brownnoser,” Ludendorff said sharply.

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered.

  “Galyan is moving again,” Meta shouted, “or part of him is.”

  “Good,” Maddox said. “That’s a good sign.”

  “Do you think I am brownnosing the captain because I speak respectfully to him?” Galyan asked the professor.

  “Just saying,” Ludendorff said with an edge.

  “Ignore him, Galyan,” Meta said. “I think you’re going to be okay.”

  “Yes,” Galyan said, as a holoimage arm began to move. “My holo-imaging circuits are beginning to come back online.”

  On the screen, the latest antimatter missile entered the planet’s stratosphere and detonated.

  Victory reached even with the planet at the 223,000-kilometer distance from the surface. The starship now began traveling away from the planet as it continued in-system toward the star.

  “I’m launching the next missile,” Keith said.

  “Do you have a theory about what Balron did to you actually helping you?” Meta asked her husband.

  Maddox stared at her before he stirred and glanced at Ludendorff. “I had an, uh, out of body experience several weeks ago. I don’t know how else to describe it. Balron clinically killed me as per the definition. I experienced something supernatural then, my soul or spirit slipping free from my flesh, my body. When Doctor Harris and possibly Balron helped resuscitate me, my soul or spirit slipped back into my body. I distinctly remember that my body felt too small, too tight for me.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ludendorff said.

  Maddox shook his head. “It isn’t. That’s what I felt. Why would my body feel too small, though?”

  “Perhaps that is a normal condition given such a situation,” Galyan said.

  “I don’t think so,” Meta said. “What might have caused the feeling?” she asked Maddox.

  Maddox gestured helplessly, noticed what he was doing and said, “The only thing that makes sense to me is that the Erill soul-energy in me expanded in some fashion. My resuscitation sucked my spirit back, but my spirit had grown in this arcane fashion, and it is what alerted me today about why I should summon the marines. I mean, the expanded Erill energy gave me a form of sixth sense perhaps.”

  “Bah!” Ludendorff said. “You were right the first time. This is sounding foolish.”

  “Does it really sound foolish?” asked Maddox. “This expansion—or whatever happened to me—has possibly made me sensitive to anything Erill-like or Erill-like power. That an old and p
owerful alien lives below the ancient worn pyramids would match what we’ve found about other pyramids in our part of the galaxy, at least.”

  “I’ve never heard such nonsense,” Ludendorff said.

  “I don’t know why it has to be nonsense,” Maddox said. “The real truth is that I don’t know how I knew to summon the marines, but I clearly did.”

  “Our conjecture has led me in a different direction,” Galyan said. “Why would Balron have originally aided us while seeming to harm us?”

  “That’s a good question,” Maddox said. “I don’t know.”

  “And why did Balron—the first one, the real one, I believe—warn us away from the planet?” Galyan asked.

  “That I know,” Ludendorff muttered.

  The others looked at him with expectation.

  “You’ll love this,” Ludendorff told the captain. “Balron must have sensed from the beginning that you’re a stubborn sod. He used the oldest trick in the book: reverse psychology. Whatever he wanted you to do: he said don’t even try it. That propelled you full speed ahead, as you hate anyone forbidding you anything.”

  From the helm, Keith laughed.

  “Is something funny, Mr. Maker?” Maddox asked.

  “Ah…do you want the truth…sir?” Keith asked.

  “Keep watching the missile,” Maddox said a moment later.

  “The missile is almost to the planetary atmosphere,” Keith said. “I’m ready to launch the next one if needed.”

  “How many missiles do we have?” Ludendorff asked.

  “Enough for now,” Maddox said. He stared at the main screen as he rubbed his chin. “Balron and Half-Life are mysteries. The warped-space bubbles are part of the same, I think.” Maddox sat straighter as he snapped his fingers. “The origin point of Balron’s first call: that’s where we’ll find the nexus.”

  “Do you feel this?” asked Galyan.

  “Huh? No. Sorry to disappoint you,” Maddox said. “It’s a logical deduction.”

  “Are we attempting to destroy the alien down there?” Galyan asked.

  “It attacked us,” Maddox said. “This system—”

  “Sir,” Meta said, interrupting. “Balron is hailing us.”

  “From the planet?” asked Maddox.