The Lost Tech Page 23
“Yes, yes,” Ludendorff said. “Still, an inertialess drive…I never knew the Builders had developed such a thing. It boggles the mind. Why would they have held it secret all this time?”
Riker cleared his throat and looked around the table. “If someone wouldn’t mind explaining, just what is an inertialess drive?”
Ludendorff’s scowl returned. “I have no idea why this dimwitted sergeant is present.”
“Oh, I can explain that,” Riker said promptly. “It’s called common sense. Besides Meta and possibly Valerie, I’m the only one here who has any.”
“Bah!” Ludendorff said. “I’ve more common sense in my little finger than you have in your—”
“Sergeant Riker is here because he has faced Lisa Meyers’ servants more successfully than the rest of us,” Maddox said. “Riker, with his prosaic outlook, might see something the rest of us miss.”
Ludendorff shrugged moodily and went back to scowling at the table.
“To answer your question, Riker,” Galyan said, “inertia is the resistance of any physical object to any change in its velocity. Thus, inertialess means a lack of resistance. That would mean a great body like an asteroid would have zero resistance to a change in its velocity. It would be like pushing light, as it were. I imagine the asteroid or object would regain its inertia once leaving the null region. That resumed inertia, along with the asteroidal mass, destroyed the planet Olmstead. And notice here in the Oort cloud that the icy planetesimal particles did not immediately blow backward from the nuclear blasts because they were inertialess, but had inertia and thus resisted change to their velocity.”
“Oh,” Riker said. “I understand. Thanks, Galyan.”
“You are welcome, Riker.”
Maddox was nodding. “To return to what we know about the null region, Strand suggested that the massive interior world has its own power source. He believes the Builders long ago tapped the core and it is the reason people can remain in the null region and survive on the planet. I imagine Surbus and those with him leave the world to do whatever they do to the ring or they can control the ring from somewhere on the world.”
Ludendorff looked up, almost spoke out and then waited.
“Yes, Professor?” Maddox said. “You have a point?”
“Strand didn’t say anything in that regard?”
“I don’t understand.”
“How people activate the Inertia Ring.”
“Oh. According to Ural, Strand was evasive on the subject.”
“Sir?” Galyan asked. “May I add a word?”
Maddox nodded.
“During the call,” Galyan said, “Golden Ural warned the captain that in his opinion Strand explained just enough to get anyone who goes into the mobile null region killed.”
“Yes…” Ludendorff said. “Strand must realize you’ll go—we all will go—and he hopes to murder us that way and gain his revenge.”
Riker cleared his throat.
Maddox pointed at him.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Riker said. “I know this isn’t germane to the project, but my curiosity is killing me. What did Ural give Strand that enticed the Methuselah Man into telling him all this?”
“That’s an excellent question,” Maddox said. “I asked my uncle exactly that. Ural told me to mind my own business.”
“Ha-ha!” Ludendorff cried. “Good for him. I like it. I seriously like it.”
“Your uncle wouldn’t tell you, sir?” asked Riker.
“No,” Maddox said.
“As your sergeant said earlier,” Ludendorff laughed, with some of his good humor restored, “that wasn’t germane to the issue. What I have to ask is: do we have a method for entering the null region?”
“According to Ural we do,” Maddox said.
The professor rubbed his jaw, nodding shortly and looking up. “If it’s not too much to ask, what’s the plan?”
“Yes,” Maddox said.
“What?”
“That is why we are here, Professor,” Galyan said. “The captain desires that we brainstorm the winning strategy.”
Ludendorff glanced at Maddox.
Maddox nodded.
“I see,” Ludendorff said. “So besides pinching my neck, it’s all back to me, eh? You want the scientist to pull your chestnuts out of the fire for you. Well, the easiest solution would be to lead a squadron of battleships into the null region and destroy the Inertialess Ring.”
“It is a null region,” Galyan said. “You would need plenty of photon suits for the battleship personnel.”
“We know how to make those,” Ludendorff said with a snap of his fingers. “It’s just a matter of making enough and distributing them. Of course, going in means destroying yet another priceless piece of Builder technology. Are we sure we want to do that?”
“No!” Kris said in alarm. “Can I be the only one who sees it?”
“Sees what?” Ludendorff scoffed.
“What you just suggested is the obvious solution,” Kris said, glancing at the others. “That surely means Strand wants Star Watch to try to destroy the ring with massed warships. And that means there would likely be some mechanism for defending the ring from warships.”
“Or…” Maddox said, “a mechanism to capture battleships. Notice that this Surbus had the Koniggratz.”
“Exactly,” Kris said. “I should have already seen that. Strand is…” She shuddered. “He’s crafty, much more than anyone else I’ve ever met.”
“Bah!” Ludendorff said. “Strand is a thief, a competent one, I suppose. But don’t credit him with great craftiness. Besides, lowbrow cunning is highly overrated.” Ludendorff glared at Maddox.
Maddox smiled faintly. “Lowbrow or not, I suggest that Commander Guderian has a point. Strand might be up to his old tricks, using Golden Ural as an unwitting intermediary. Perhaps Strand wishes to lure Star Watch into a comprising position. Unless one of you has a better idea, I plan to take Victory into the mobile null region and see what we can discover. If we can capture the world or destroy the ring immediately, so much the better. If we have to flee to report back with our findings for a second step, so be it.”
“And if this is a trap?” asked Ludendorff.
“Then we’ll follow the second step as I just outlined and escape,” Maddox said. “We shall then report to the Lord High Admiral. With the fate of the Earth in the balance, I don’t see we have any other alternative but to go in and look around.”
“We could insert a small team instead,” Ludendorff said.
“Too dangerous and uncertain until we know more,” Maddox said. “What else?”
Everyone glanced at one another. Finally, Maddox eyed the professor.
“I gave you my opinion,” Ludendorff said curtly.
Maddox stood as he studied his team. “Let’s prepare. Professor, how many photon suits can you ready?”
“How long until we attempt this?” Ludendorff asked.
“How long until we’re near the location of the last asteroid launching?” Maddox asked Valerie.
She glanced at a screen. “Eight and a half hours, sir.”
“There you have it,” Maddox told Ludendorff.
“Ten suits,” Ludendorff said.
“That should be enough.”
Ludendorff sighed, climbed to his feet and turned to Maddox. “With your permission, I’d like to take Andros and get started.”
“Go,” Maddox said. “And good luck to the both of you.”
-40-
Nine hours later, Victory was in position in the Solar System’s inner Oort cloud, 2,773 AUs from Earth. Andros sat at the bridge’s science station in a bulky photon suit. “I have it, sir,” he told Maddox via a helmet comm.
“You’re detecting the mobile null region?” Maddox asked from his chair. He, too, wore a bulky photon suit.
“I recalibrated the sensors per Galyan’s instructions,” Andros said. “This is like nothing I’ve seen before. I’d say it’s the null region or indicates the null re
gion.”
“Indeed so,” Ludendorff said. The Methuselah Man also wore a photon suit and was linked to the helmet comms. He stood near the command chair. “You’re not actually detecting the null region, just the minute fluctuations as it affects our time and space. It is similar to a submarine cruising deep underwater and the tiny motions rippling upon the surface show its presence to the ultra-observant.”
“The null region is…under our universe?” Maddox asked.
“That is a poor way to say it,” Ludendorff replied. “But it’s the best I can do under the circumstances. The two universes are aligned in a way I cannot precisely explain to the scientifically uninitiated.”
Maddox scanned the bridge, the personnel wearing the bulky white photon suits that would allow them to act normally once they reached the null realm. “We’ve done this before, people. Now, we’re going to risk it again. I expect a warm reception once we make our move. So, let’s be on our toes. Mr. Maker, are you ready?”
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
“Do we really and truly trust Strand’s information?” Ludendorff asked.
Maddox glanced at the suited Methuselah Man. The question was pregnant with terrible threat. If they didn’t try this, though, they would have to accede to Surbus’s demands, which would likely grow outrageously. Or they would have to capture his vessel when it reappeared, a dubious prospect at best.
“It would appear that Meyers once made it to the null region,” Maddox said. “Let’s remember that. If she can do it, we can do it.”
“Famous last words,” Ludendorff muttered.
“Professor, this is a time for optimism. I would appreciate it if you remembered that.”
“You surprise me, my boy. I would have thought you’d get off your chair to cuff me on the back of the helmet.”
“If you prefer it that way,” Maddox said, rising.
“Never mind,” Ludendorff said, as he backed away from the captain. “You’re far too literal and as usual, fail to appreciate a comment made in jest.”
Maddox grinned within his helmet as he resumed his seat. This was incredibly risky, and the professor was right, Strand could be tricking them. What could he do to increase their odds? The grin evaporated as Maddox bowed his head. “Dear God, please help us reach the null region. Amen.”
“Amen, sir,” Galyan said.
Keith manipulated his panel, and the antimatter engines began to hum and thrum with power. The double-oval starship did not move, but remained in place as the entire outer hull began to quiver. The quivering became shaking.
On the bridge, everything shook as well. Maddox held onto his armrests. They were utilizing the procedure as outlined by Strand via Golden Ural. They were taking a lot on trust, on faith in a bad man’s words.
This is a harebrained scheme, Maddox realized.
“We’re mad!” Ludendorff shouted. “This will likely never work.”
“Switching to overdrive,” Keith said. With his gloved fingers, he manipulated his board.
The shaking worsened and the antimatter engine sounds whined throughout the great Adok vessel.
“I’m detecting a change,” Valerie said from her station. She, too, wore a photon suit.
“Does it align?” Maddox shouted.
“Almost,” Valerie said.
“We’ll go with almost,” Maddox said. “Whenever you’re ready Mr. Maker.”
“Overdrive buildup,” Keith said. “Hang on. This could be bad.”
The whine became intolerable. Each of the suited personnel clapped gloved hands over their helmeted heads. Galyan disappeared in a wink of light that faded away.
“I don’t like this, my boy,” Ludendorff muttered.
“If you’re ready, Mate,” Keith said.
“Do it,” Maddox said. “Let’s do it.”
“Now,” Keith said, as he slapped his console.
The whine and shaking intensified as the starship leaped toward the disturbance ahead of them in space-time. The great double-oval vessel did not slide into a different realm, as there was no new opening. Instead, it seemed as if the forward hull of the starship pushed against the very fabric of space-time. The ancient warship strained, pushing more of the ethereal, yet very real, space-time substance. In that second, it seemed as if Victory stretched reality, trying to break through to the other side.
“It’s not supposed to do this,” Ludendorff said. “Sheer off, my boy. Sheer off before we’re all destroyed.”
Maddox had leaned forward on his seat, peering at the main screen. It showed the fabric of reality stretching, and that was nonsense. How could such a thing—
Victory moved abruptly. It smashed through as a rip appeared. The vessel wriggled through the opening as intense darkness like ink spilled out. The shaking and engine whining lessened as the starship forced itself into somewhere that wasn’t normal.
“We’re doing it!” Keith shouted. “We’re heading—”
Blackness descended upon the starship as a similar blackness invaded the bridge. Whatever Keith said, no one else heard, least of all Maddox. The great vessel plunged into darkness and the tear behind it snapped shut.
At that point, Maddox’s perceptions faded away, and then his consciousness fled his body. Did that happen to the others as well? Everything on the starship was pitch-black.
-41-
The inky darkness seemed to penetrate more than just the ship. It throbbed intensely inside Maddox. What it did to the others, he had no idea. He wasn’t fully conscious himself. The throb seemed to force the pitch-blackness deeper and deeper into his mind and thoughts. It was a suffocating thing, deadening him, canceling out—
A spark of light illuminated the captain’s personality somewhere deep in his id or self-identity. Did that come from himself or was it a part of the stolen Erill spiritual energy?
Who am I?
The throb of darkness rushed upon the silent question. It attempted to smother it, bury it in darkness.
The light flickered against the bleak nullity of darkness. It was cold, mind-numbing as it was meant to be.
Who am I?
The question was insistent, demanding an answer. Could the darkness yield to it?
What darkness?
The darkness around the spark of light in the id of Captain Maddox thickened like gel.
No!
The thickening gel started to harden around the dying light, the mere ember of thought.
I am…
The hardening moved like a black iceberg at the ember, attempting to roll over it. The black iceberg inched nearer, nearer, and it slid over the ember, seemingly extinguishing it.
I am Captain Maddox—a wail of thought. But it was enough. The ember burned through the hardened darkness to glow with power and then it danced into a flickering light once again. I refuse to quit. I refuse defeat.
The blackness reared up as if it would avalanche upon the puny flickering boastful light.
Ah. You attempt to defeat me. That indicates desire, which indicates intelligence. Who are you, foe? Why do you fear me?
The blackness retreated from the question as if it hated…hated what exactly?
What happened to me?
With the interior question, Maddox grew aware of what had happened. The starship had attempted to enter the mobile null region. They had followed the directions as given by Strand to Golden Ural. Did that mean the crew had fallen for a Strand trap?
In his id, Maddox sighed with frustration. Methuselah Man Strand hated him. He should. Maddox had punched the old man’s lights out before.
I will again, when I catch him.
The idea comforted the captain. He would make the Methuselah Man pay for his dastardly treachery. First, he had to win through, though.
Wake up, Maddox. I think you’re sleeping.
His eyelids fluttered, fluttered more, and consciousness returned to him with a snap. He was lying down, protected by the photon suit. He tasted stale air. How long had he lain in the suit?
Moving an arm, he reached a side switch and pressed it. A whoosh of sound told him the suit had activated, which meant it had been off.
Fresh air cycled into the captain’s helmet. He breathed deeply, and more awareness returned to him. He clicked on a helmet lamp.
The light was dim, barely passing his helmet. He looked around him at oozing darkness. He raised his arm and ran his hand through the darkness. There wasn’t any physical resistance as if he was underwater, but the darkness flowed over his spread, gloved fingers.
What is this place, this realm?
Maddox grunted as he forced himself to stand. He found it difficult, and stood panting for a time. Finally, he started circling his command chair, soon finding the professor lying on the deck.
Maddox turned on the professor’s photon suit and air tanks and waited. They worked, but even when he shook the Methuselah Man, Ludendorff continued to snore.
Maddox went to each of the bridge crew, turning on their suits. It made no difference. They remained unconscious.
He went to the controls. The life support system was barely functioning, but that seemed to be the extent of the starship’s functioning.
Mentally exhausted by his efforts, Maddox returned to his chair, struggling to keep his eyes open. After a few minutes he lost the struggle, and his eyes slowly closed. He didn’t lose consciousness, but his body began to fail him, as it would no longer respond to his brain’s commands other than breathing.
Maddox concentrated. Perhaps the others were in a similar state. What caused that?
Is it this realm, this place or the ultra-darkness?
He’d felt intelligence before. Could he feel it again? Maddox strained to feel something, but it didn’t work. Perhaps he couldn’t do it on the conscious level, but unconscious.
He waited, relaxed and then strove to understand any hint, any possibility that might have bubbled up from his subconscious.
His thoughts were blank.
I can’t just stay here. I have to do something. We’ll perish in this realm.
OUTSIDE.
What was that?
OUTSIDE. I AM OUTSIDE.
Maddox considered that. Had he just sensed an alien intelligence? If he had, was it evil or good, friendly or enemy?