Invaders Page 26

  “Greenland will soon be visible,” Rax said.

  The privateer outlined on my screen wavered for a second.

  “Did you see that?” I shouted.

  “Indeed,” Rax said. “The Min Ve has released bundles of orbital rods.”

  “Are the bundles inside or outside its shield?” I asked.

  “Why, they are outside, of course,” Rax said. “That was why the shield shimmered for a moment. So the bundles could pass without harm.”

  “We should have launched our nuclear device then.”

  “I cannot teleport the device in a second of time,” Rax said. “The Min Ve is playing a cagey strategy. It is placing its weapons outside the ship’s shield so it can activate the rods through comm signals.”

  “What if we destroyed the orbital bundles?” I asked.

  “First,” Rax said, “we would have to close with the bundles and the privateer. The Guard-ship’s laser cannons are relatively short-ranged weapons. Second, we would necessarily give away our position by firing. Our usefulness would be at an end, as the privateer could easily destroy our small craft.”

  “But Debby is down there in Greenland,” I said. “What if the Min Ve launches hordes of rods at the ancient site?”

  Rax did not reply to that. A few seconds later, he said, “Look.”

  “Look at what?” I shouted

  Rax zoomed in on the screen. Three bright dots climbed up from the ocean near Greenland. Those dots must indicate missiles. Had the Polarion launched the missiles, or were those American submarine-launched missiles? Whatever the case, a red line slashed down from the orbital vessel. The line was a bigger version of the disintegrator ray. The ray touched each bright dot in turn, creating a bloom of light, indicating a destroyed missile.

  Soon, no more missiles climbed into space.

  “From this demonstration,” Rax said, “it is clear that the side with the high orbital position has the advantage.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Because of gravity,” Rax said. “It is easier to beam disintegrator rays or drop rods down than to send rockets up.”

  I could see his point. The Earth was at the bottom of a gravity well, as it were. As anyone who has had the opportunity could tell you, it was easier dropping rocks into the well than heaving rocks up to the top from the bottom.

  The rockets surprised me. Who had launched them? Occam’s razor suggested the Polarion had done so. The U.S. probably lacked anything sophisticated enough to see the cloaked privateer. Therefore, the Americans had likely not used submarine-launched missiles. Yet, if the Polarion had launched the missiles, I would like to know where he’d gotten them, why he targeted the alien privateer and why he had failed.

  The Polarion was supposed to be godlike. Shouldn’t his weapons be able to defeat a mere privateer?

  “Can the Min Ve fire his disintegrator beam through his shield?” I asked.

  “Not precisely,” Rax said. “There is a special mechanism. It turns the shield off for the split-second the ray beams outward. The instant the ray quits, the shield is back online. Naturally, teleportation beams require the shield to lower for a longer amount of time.”

  “Rax, I want to go down to Greenland.”

  “That is not logical.”

  “Sure it is,” I said. “I have to coordinate with the Polarion. It will also give me an opportunity to see what’s happened to Debby.”

  “The Polarion dismissed you,” Rax said. “Legend holds that they are notoriously vain. He might eliminate you in a fit of royal anger if he sees you again.”

  “The rockets changed the equation,” I said. “If the Polarion launched them…”

  “Your meaning escapes me,” Rax said.

  “I’m going down to Greenland.”

  “The Min Ve might detect that,” Rax said.

  “It’s a risk, sure, but I think it’s worth it.”

  “Very well,” Rax said. “I agree that there are variables in play that I do not understand. I will remain here while you go.”

  I studied the little crystal in his metal case. Then, I unbuckled, floating for the hatch.

  -46-

  I had my .44 Magnum, wearing it outside the metallic one-piece I’d taken from the Greenland site during my previous visit. On the other side of the belt was the communicator linking me with Rax.

  The Polarion had called me a natural before. Maybe he was right. I had an instinct about this. I was doing the right thing. Yet, if that were true, why was my gut churning the way it did?

  “I’m ready,” I told Rax.

  “I suggest you reconsider this,” the little crystal said. “I am detecting heightened energy readings from the privateer. According to my calculations—”

  “Enough, Rax,” I said. “Just do it.”

  “You do realize this is a highly emotional decision?”

  I did not respond. Several seconds later, the Guard-ship’s transfer chamber began to fade…

  ***

  I appeared inside a huge chamber and realized that two efficient-looking Neanderthals flanked me. That seemed to indicate that they, or the Polarion, had known I was teleporting down. Before I could react, one of the Neanderthals drew my .44 from its holster. The other put a huge hand on my left elbow, propelling me toward a vast screen in the center of the chamber.

  On the screen was the outline of the alien privateer. Even fainter than the outline were the girders and modules making up the orbital vessel. I’d forgotten about the true shape and manner of the privateer. Clearly, it was a deep space vessel, never meant to enter an atmosphere.

  As the Neanderthal propelled me, I had a chance to look around. I noticed various personnel occupying stations with screens and controls. This place reminded me of NORAD, but instead of Air Force officers in white shirts and ties, I saw Neanderthals and apelike hominids. None of them spoke, although they all worked fast at whatever they were doing.

  Most of the chamber was dark. The small station-screens created some illumination. The greater amount of light came from the giant screen. It should have been in a football stadium, it was so big. The lowest part of the giant screen was fifteen feet off the floor. That should give you some idea of the size of the place.

  The Polarion stood alone before the giant screen. The white-haired humanoid had folded his arms across his chest as he gazed at the Min Ve privateer.

  The two Neanderthals brought me toward him. The Polarion turned and raised a bushy white eyebrow.

  “The natural,” the Polarion said in his rich voice. “I gave you explicit instructions to stay away.”

  I remained silent.

  The Polarion nodded ever so slightly. One Neanderthal released his hold on my arm.

  “I saw you earlier,” I blurted.

  The Polarion waited.

  “Earth satellites were watching you,” I said. “Rax had broken into the satellite systems. We saw the Min Ve try to assassinate you with an orbital rod.”

  The Polarion simply continued to watch me.

  “You destroyed the rod with a flick of your hand,” I said.

  The Polarion held out his left hand. I had no idea what that meant. One of the Neanderthals must have, though. He approached the Polarion and gave the man my revolver.

  The ancient white-haired superman turned the weapon over several times, studying it. Finally, he opened the cylinder, dumping the bullets into his other hand. He squeezed the bullets while his hand glowed with power. I noticed he wore a strange ring. Did the glow originate from it?

  In any case, inadvertently, I took a step back from him.

  The Polarion looked up at me. I held my ground after that. He fixated on his hand, squeezed harder as the glow brightened, and suddenly opened his hand. His shoulders seemed to sag the slightest bit. The glow left his hand, although a nimbus surrounded the bullets. Soon, that glow faded as well.

  He handed the bullets to me.

  I accepted, not sure what I should do with them.

&nb
sp; He nodded at my belt. I thought I understood and slid each bullet into an individual slot on the belt. Once I’d finished doing that, he handed me the .44. For a millisecond, I thought about reloading. Instead, I holstered the empty gun.

  He gave another of his minimalist nods. The Neanderthals departed, leaving the two of us alone before the giant screen.

  “You may call me Argon,” the Polarion said.

  It was my turn to nod. He didn’t seem as arrogant as the last time we’d spoken. He did have that majesty, though. It radiated more powerfully than ever.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I said.

  “Ask,” he said.

  “Where’s Debby?”

  His nostrils flared. Then, he turned to his left, walking swiftly. I had to jog to catch up, following as he passed under an archway.

  I halted in shock as an electrical noise focused my attention. I saw a huge ball of blue lightning hovering twenty feet off the floor. Inside the ball of blue lightning, Debby floated with her hair radiating in all directions. She wore her bra and panties, but nothing else. Her eyes were a silver color, and she tried to mouth words.

  My heart went out to her as my right hand dropped onto the butt of the .44. Then, I realized the revolver was empty. With a conscious effort, I lifted my hand off the gun.

  “She is unharmed,” Argon said.

  “What are you doing to her?” I asked in a voice I hardly recognized.

  “Using her as a communication device,” he said.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I have instructed you to think, Natural. This is one of those instances where you must do so. I will not answer the obvious.”

  I admired the Polarion and yet I hated his guts. The former emotion won out this time.

  “She can talk to the Starcore?” I asked.

  “The Starcore and I have bargained,” Argon said with a touch of dry humor. “To date, the Starcore has refused my offers.”

  “May I ask what you’re offering?”

  “Rest for the weary,” Argon said. “I have offered the ancient device its destruction for the good of the universe. The construct stubbornly resists me. In fact, the Starcore demands I return Debby. I have thus far declined to do so.”

  Argon turned to go.

  “Wait,” I said.

  A touch of annoyance crossed the Polarion’s noble features. “We lack time for debate, and I have a few items to relay to you. It may well prove critical. Come.”

  I wanted to grab an arm and shake him. I figured that would put me flat on my back at best. The Polarion was inhuman in ways I could sense but didn’t understand. I felt as if he could swat me out of existence like a proverbial fly. Thus, I followed him.

  I did glance back at Debby, though. She tracked me with her silver eyes. I shivered because I could feel the Starcore’s hatred.

  I hurried after Argon. Soon, we stood before the giant screen again. The rest of the people in the chamber worked silently at their stations.

  “I have begun to regain my former abilities,” Argon said. “We Polarions have aspects. You might call them powers. I can control various electromagnetic situations.”

  “You do this mentally?” I asked.

  “It is unimportant how I do it,” Argon said. “I have revived ancient weapons systems in record time. I doubt the Starcore believed me capable of doing so this quickly. I have already stymied several of the construct’s plans.”

  I waited, realizing the Polarion had a reason for telling me all this.

  He sighed.

  “I have slept for an age,” Argon said. “I find it difficult at times to maintain my equilibrium. My ego is strong. The emotions needed to battle against the Starcore—that comes and goes. It is almost as if life wearies me. Do you not think that is strange?”

  “I am not a Polarion,” I said.

  “No,” he said after a time. “You are not.”

  Argon resumed his study of the orbital vessel. He compressed his lips as if debating an idea. Finally, he spoke again. He did not turn to me, but kept his focus on the Min Ve privateer.

  “The Starcore is like me, ancient beyond reckoning. Yet, it is a construct. It has not lost its zest because it never had it. The white ship is old and brittle. According to what I’ve gleaned from Debby, the Starcore doesn’t trust the white ship sufficiently to engage in star travel with it. Perhaps as important, the Starcore’s creatures are busy repairing the damage you and I inflicted on the white ship.”

  I took that in.

  “I suppose I should tell you that I assisted you in your initial rampage through the white ship’s control areas,” Argon said.

  “How could you do that?” I asked. “The Starcore’s scientists were torturing you.”

  “True,” Argon said. “That made the effort more difficult. Still, I hindered the Starcore’s responses. That left its slaves incapacitated, giving you the needed margin to kill them and damage important equipment.”

  “Why did the Starcore revive you if you’re that dangerous?”

  Argon shook his head sharply, as if the subject angered him too much to speak about it.

  “Did the Starcore revive other Polarions?” I asked.

  “I am alone,” Argon said quietly. “I am all alone in this distant era. It is a strange sensation.” He shook his head again as if ridding himself of something useless.

  “I am hindering the Starcore,” Argon said. “The construct yearns to leave Far Butte. It seeks to return to normal phase. Soon, the Starcore will succeed. I must destroy the privateer before that happens.”

  “Can I ask why?” I said.

  “The privateer is a modern starship. Thus, the Starcore wishes to possess it as its own. If the construct can do that, it will race to Rax Prime. There, it will finally repair itself, regaining full use of its deadly ability to wield the cosmic force.”

  “That’s greater than electromagnetic control?” I asked.

  A look of pained majesty crossed Argon’s face. The look frightened me in a way that was hard to describe. It made me want to go down on one knee and bow my head before him.

  He chopped his left hand through the air, as if cutting the feeling from my heart.

  I staggered, blinking in surprise.

  “The Starcore has strengthened the privateer,” the Polarion said, ignoring my stumble. “I may not be able to destroy the orbital vessel in time. We shall see. The Starcore wants me dead. That is certain. The construct is willing to risk its ticket out of the solar system because it knows I will revive to even greater strength in the next few hours.”

  “How did the Starcore strengthen the privateer if the construct is out of phase?” I asked.

  Argon held both hands before him. Electricity played between his fingers and the ring glowed brightly. At the same time, his features hardened.

  “It has begun,” he said.

  “The privateer is going to attack this place?”

  “Of course,” Argon said.

  “Maybe I can help,” I said. “Rax and I plan to teleport a nuclear device—”

  “Cease your prattle,” the Polarion said in a commanding voice. “The Min Ve has unleashed a sub-atomic blast against your Rax Prime crystal. I do not believe the Min Ve has detected your Guard-ship, but he must have reasoned its presence. You will be unable to teleport up or teleport your nuclear device for the next ten minutes at least. The battle will be over one way or another before that.”

  “What battle?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Argon said. He raised his hands. The electrical power emanating from them grew. And a most amazing sight greeted me.

  -47-

  On the giant screen before me, I saw something rising out of the ground from the ice canyon in Greenland. Snow and big white chunks fell from it. Several seconds later, I knew exactly what I saw.

  A great barrel—like one of the giant WWI artillery barrels—moved out from an even bigger turret. The turret spun. The barrel climbed until its orifice aimed into the h
eavens.

  I laughed in astonishment. Perhaps this was the reason why few alien vessels had ever returned from scouting the banned Earth.

  Tension seemed to mount inside the command center. That’s what I was standing in, I realized. I had been correct about the NORAD feel to this place. Vast machinery roared with power from somewhere nearby. I could feel the floor shake. Ancient sources must be attempting to energize the equally ancient cannon.

  Energy flowed from Argon. It was a staggering sight. I backed away from him. His fingers writhed as if he were a master pianist playing his greatest piece.

  On the giant screen, an orange ray bolted from the orifice and pierced the sky as it climbed into orbital space.

  At that point, the giant screen split in half, at least in what it showed. I saw the giant Greenland cannon, and I saw the privateer.

  The orange ray struck the privateer’s shield. That caused the cloaking invisibility to shimmer and then vanish. The orbital vessel was visible as individual girders and modules. Before the mass, the shield glowed with power.

  Inch by inch, the Greenland beam pushed the shield closer to the orbital vessel. I wondered why the privateer didn’t fire back. What was it waiting for? Would Argon solve the privateer problem for Earth?

  Finally, I realized the Min Ve’s plan. Clearly, he did not want to time the shield shutting down for even a millisecond in order to fire back with the ship’s beams. He would let his shield absorb the horrendous punishment while he struck back another way.

  Orbital rods now rained at us like meteors as the Min Ve used his prepositioned bundles.

  My gut clenched as I realized that I was as much a target now as Argon.

  “The Starcore still hopes to capture this site,” Argon shouted in a strange voice. “I will not give him that option.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but it sounded ominous.

  One thing it meant was that the great barrel was no longer aimed at the privateer. The turret spun, and the huge cannon swept from side to side. The orange ray moved around the sky. Each time the beam touched an orbital rod, the missile burned up at the intensity.