Invaders: The Antaran (Invaders Series Book 3) Page 3
The ship was underwater by several feet, just enough to stay out of a curious observer’s line of sight. We were about one hundred miles west of San Francisco.
I was a west coast boy. Thus, I seemed to hang out in the western states more than anywhere else.
There was a “glass” area showing me the green depths. I sat in the pilot’s chair, pulled Rax from a pocket and slotted him into the wireless socket on the dash.
“Let’s hear it,” I said. “What is the Antares Institute?”
“It is situated on a planet in the Antares System,” Rax said. “It is a school of highly advanced study. The various dominies gather students and spend the majority of their time in contemplation and experimentation.”
“And they have slaves?”
“I believe ‘thralls’ was the term,” Rax said.
“Same difference,” I said.
“Perhaps to your unstudied mind,” Rax said. “I doubt a dominie would see it that way.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“In no way,” Rax said. “The scholars of the Antares Institute are proud of their achievements. Normally, they do not indulge in criminal activity. The Institute as a whole is neutral regarding politics and other social disagreements. The individual dominies, however, pursue their goals with great verve and, at times, ingenious cunning. If I were to guess…”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“It is my suspicion that Lord Beran is an archeologist or some other type of scholar interested in ancient myths. Since he has illegally come to Earth—a restricted planet—I suspect he is interested in the Polarion legends as relates to Earth.”
“That’s a pretty big leap of logic. Have you heard of Lord Beran before?”
“Not by name but I believe by reputation.”
“You’d better explain that.”
Rax was silent for several seconds. “There were rumors among the Guard about several dominies of the Institute inquiring too keenly regarding certain Polarion practices and antiquities.”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up,” I said. “What antiquities are these?”
“Logan, I am about to inform you of a troubling problem. I hope you do not take this the wrong way.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you’re about to tell me,” I said.
“I feel it is important to remind you that you are a probationary affiliate Guard member. Once a Guard dreadnought arrives in the Solar System, you will undergo strenuous interrogation, testing and psych profiling. If you pass, you will undergo a short ceremony and become a fully affiliated Guard member.”
“How about getting to the point?” I asked.
“I am afraid that you lack sufficient clearance to—”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Rax. You do realize, don’t you, that we’re the only ones with Guard equipment on Earth. The dominies are here, well, at least one of them is. Whatever Beran is trying to do is illegal, as you’ve already pointed out. Besides, his thralls have murdered people and kidnapped my girl. So you might as well tell me the whole shebang so I can uphold Galactic Law to the best of my ability.”
“Your logic is flawless,” Rax said sarcastically.
“I’ve met Argon, remember?” Argon had been a Polarion. “I’ve wielded a Polarion ring, an artifact. You’ve already told me that the process changed me somehow. If anyone has clearance to know what’s going on, it’s me.”
“I suppose you have a point,” Rax said. “Very well. I fear that Lord Beran may be attempting to locate ancient Polarion devices. As you know, some of these devices were and likely still are potent beyond normal conception. Legends hold that the Polarions were akin to gods in power, if not in judgment.”
“You mean like the chronowarp and the side dimension we found in the Bermuda Triangle?” I asked.
“And the Starcore and other hidden devices far too powerful for finite beings to wield.”
“Including the Galactic Guard?” I asked.
“The Guard has placed the Earth off limits for a long time, Logan. No Guard member has ever attempted to search for these items. We protect Galactic Civilization. Certain devices are simply too powerful for any one being to use. One of your keenest minds coined a perfect phrase in this regard. ‘Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.’”
“Who said that?”
“A British noble named Lord Acton,” Rax said.
“You think Beran wants these hidden Polarion relics?”
“That would be my first guess. That does not make it so. But it would be a good place to start.”
“And this super-genius professor has beastly thralls to do his bidding, huh?”
“Why would that be surprising? An Antares dominie would not want to sully his hands committing mundane actions. What is more mundane and demeaning at times than fighting? Remember, the dominies are proud of their intellectual achievements. They are men of the mind, or high scope. Thus, it makes perfect sense that a dominie would have beastly sub-species to do the grubby work for him.”
“How does Beran keep the beasts in line?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Rax asked. “He as good as told you when he explained to you that Terrans are a physical species. The beastmen, as you call them, are also a physical species. Likely, he uses a form of obedience collars on them as well.”
“What a bastard,” I said. “How do you think he knew so much about us?”
“That is a troubling question, but it indicates the kind of adversary that we’re facing. An Antares dominie would come prepared. Lord Beran is clearly no exception to the rule.”
“Right,” I said. “It’s time to call the CAU and find out the worst.”
-6-
I sat in the pilot’s chair, having swiveled to the side so I faced the comm screen. I punched in the code for CAU Headquarters, which was deep underground in the Utah salt flats.
The CAU had secret offices in Washington, DC, as well, but this was the heart of the American Counter Alien Unit.
A second later, I found myself staring at the Director, an older man in a black business suit. He didn’t have a normal tie but wore a bolo tie with a rhinestone at its center. He had shoeshine-colored eyebrows and was slightly overweight. He was a ruthless individual, but we’d come to a live and let live arrangement some time ago.
“Hello, Logan. I’ve been expecting your call.”
“You heard about beastmen aliens in South Lake Tahoe?” I asked.
He blinked at me. “No. What beastmen?”
I gave him a quick rundown about what had happened at Friday’s Station.
“The aliens have already made their move then,” he said. “This is worse than I expected.”
“You knew about them?”
He shook his head. “Not specifically,” he said. “Can you transfer me to your ship? I’m afraid this connection might be bugged.”
“The beastmen haven’t attacked or tried to infiltrate CAU Headquarters?” I asked.
He appeared to grow more alert as he studied me. “No,” he said. “What makes you think they have?”
I drummed my fingers on the console and finally nodded. He was a suspicious Director who seldom showed all his cards if he didn’t have to. I decided to believe him.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“This is an emergency,” the Director said. “Haste is critical.”
That was his way of saying yes. “Right,” I said. “Rax, bring him over.”
As I watched the screen, the Director of CAU disappeared. I got up and headed for the exit.
“Logan,” Rax said.
I grunted as my hand touched the latch to the exit hatch.
“I just thought of something,” Rax said. “Why did the Director himself answer your call? In my recollection, a secretary has always answered first, only patching you through to the Director after some argumentation.”
Rax had a point. I’d been an idiot. I drew my blaste
r and charged down the short hall into the transport chamber.
I aimed the beamer as the Director stepped off the transfer dais.
“Logan,” he said, glancing at the blaster. “This is unwarranted.”
I studied him. He looked like the Director. He didn’t quite have that haughty spirit of past encounters, though. He met my gaze frankly, waiting for me to arrive at whatever conclusion I would. That’s what made me the most suspicious now that I viewed him face-to-face.
“Something is off with you,” I said. “I don’t know what it is, but you’re out of character. Care to tell me why that is?”
“I would appreciate it if you would first put the gun away.”
“Not bloody likely,” I said.
He squinted at me, rubbing his chin as he did. Finally, he sighed. “I see we’re going to have to begin Plan B. It isn’t as good as Plan A. I know you’re not going to like it, but…”
He shrugged and then raised his chin in a haughty manner. That made him seem more like the Director I knew.
“Before you attempt any unwarranted actions,” he began, “I should warn you that I have a bomb attached to my person. If you doubt this, I suggest you have Rax analyze my body.”
That came out of left field. “A bomb?” I asked.
“I carry it due to the importance of my message,” he said. “In truth, this may be the most important message you have to hear. If you refuse to listen to me, I will detonate the bomb.”
“And kill yourself? Get real. I don’t buy that for a second.”
“It is true,” he said, trying to sound convincing. “You absolutely must listen to what I have to say.”
I couldn’t believe this. I’d never really liked the Director. He was far too coldblooded for my tastes. Usually, that ruthlessness was just with other people’s lives, not his own. Rax had already raised my suspicions. Now this bomb threat—
I thrust the blaster into its holster, took three steps closer and slugged him against the chin. The crack against my knuckles felt good. Even better was watching him crumple onto the floor where he hit the back of his head with a gratifying thump. So much for blowing himself up, if he even had a bomb. What an idiot.
I knelt beside him and with a deft twist unbuttoned the black suit and then the white shirt underneath. All I saw was flabby pale skin. I frisked him, but couldn’t find anything remotely explosive. I did find a small flat device in a suit pocket.
I took that. Then I sat back on my heels, thinking.
From on the floor, the Director groaned and his eyelids fluttered.
“What just happened?” he slurred.
I waited.
Gingerly, he touched his jaw where I’d hit him and jerked his hand away as if shocked. Slowly, he opened bloodshot eyes to regard me.
“I checked,” I told him. “There’s no bomb.”
“What…?” he slurred.
“You’re not carrying a bomb.”
He just lay there. I guess he didn’t like me having called his bluff. Finally, he dragged himself backward toward the dais, groaning when the top of his head struck the base. He slowly levered himself upright so he lay half-propped, staring at me with glazed eyes.
“Well?” I asked.
“I do have a bomb,” he said.
“Yeah? Where?”
He tapped his stomach.
“You swallowed it?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“Why do that?” I asked. “While you were unconscious, I could have transferred you off my ship. Then, what good would your bomb have done you?”
A faint, rather sour grin touched his lips. “If you had done that,” he said, “we both would have died.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“If you attempt to transfer me, I will explode. We’ve studied the teleporting process, albeit from afar. CAU can’t duplicate it yet. But we know what kind of T-waves your transfer machine uses.”
“Don’t you realize we’re under alien attack? What’s with this stupidity?”
His features tightened, maybe in annoyance. “The trigger to setting the bomb was the first transfer onto your ship. After that, another beginning transfer…”
The Director spread his pudgy fingers as if to mimic an explosion.
“Are you insane?” I asked. Despite the craziness of the idea, I was beginning to believe that the man had a bomb in his gut.
“No. I am quite sane,” he said. “The truth, Logan, is that we’re desperate. The Earth is desperate. I understand very well about an alien assault. That’s why we need your help.”
“For what?” I shouted.
“You and I must head to Mars and set up a sensor array out there.”
“Mars? The aliens are already on Earth. Why would we need to set up a sensor array?”
“I don’t know about the aliens being on Earth,” he said rather primly.
“I already told you they were. Are. They appeared in Harrah’s hotel tower in South Lake Tahoe.”
“Maybe these are different aliens,” he said.
I rubbed my forehead. This wasn’t making sense, the Director having a bomb in his gut, more aliens out there and Lord Beran of the Antares Institute having kidnapped Debby.
“Okay,” I said. “Start from the beginning. Why do you want a sensor array in Mars orbit?”
-7-
Instead of telling me what was going on, the Director continued to lie on the floor, first moving his jaw one way and then the other. Finally, he gathered saliva in his mouth, turned his head and spit a bloody mess onto the deck.
“Did you have to hit me so hard?” he complained.
“You spit in my ship,” I said, starting to get mad. “You'd better believe you’re cleaning it up.”
He lowered the jaw-testing hand and gave me an incredulous stare. “What I have to tell you is a matter of human survival.”
“I’m going to start kicking you in the ribs if you don’t get to the point.”
He slid farther upright, wincing as he did so. “Do you have any aspirin?” he asked.
“Loads,” I said.
“I’d like three.”
“Director, I’m not leaving you alone in here while I get you some aspirin. You want to get up, clean up your mess first, maybe I’ll give you some aspirin afterward. Now about this line concerning Mars and aliens—”
“No!” he said. “We must set up a sensor array. We must do it immediately.”
“Aren’t you listening to me? The aliens are already here.”
He shook his head. “I’m talking about something much bigger than a kidnapping attempt.”
“What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously.
“I’m talking about a full scale invasion.”
“Wait, wait,” I said, once more rubbing my forehead. “You want a sensor array around Mars. Why doesn’t CAU ask NASA to place the array there?”
“CAU’s space vehicle is far superior to NASA’s,” he said proudly.
CAU had confiscated some of Hap’s equipment. Hap had been a monkey-like alien from the Chronowarp episode. He had managed to get himself killed thirteen months ago.
“If your vehicle is so good,” I said, “use it to set up the sensor array.”
“Alas, while our vehicle is superior, it lacks true deep-space capability.”
The Director was starting to frustrate me. There was definitely something wrong with his thinking.
“So which is it?” I snapped. “NASA can fire a rocket to Mars. Apparently, CAU can’t. That makes them superior to you.”
He sighed as if annoyed, pushed himself up to a seated position and rummaged in a suit pocket.
“Looking for this?” I asked, holding up the flat device I’d taken from him.
“Yes,” he said, holding out a hand.
“Oh, no. Forget it. For all I know, it’s the bomb’s detonator—if that’s even legitimate.”
“Rax can tell you it is.”
I reexamined
the Director. I finally noticed that beads of sweat prickled at his hairline. Was he nervous because he really had a bomb in his stomach, or was it something else?
“Suppose I believe you,” I said. “That you wanted to come aboard with a bomb. That you want me to help CAU. Why do you personally want to go into deep space? You’re the Director…”
I stopped talking because his lower lip had started quivering. It was exactly like a small boy trying not to cry after being spanked.
Was this all an elaborate trick that involved Lord Beran?
I stepped near. He cringed and held up his hands. I slapped them out of the way, grabbed the back of his suit and hauled him to his feet. I propelled him out of the transfer chamber, down the short corridor and into the piloting chamber.
“Rax,” I said. “Use your sensors. Is the Director carrying a bomb in his gut?”
“Affirmative,” the crystal said.
That loosened my hold of the man’s collar. I let go altogether a second later. The Director practically collapsed onto a panel, where he panted, took out a handkerchief and blotted his now obviously sweaty features.
It was an unusual performance for him, even more unusual than his having answered my call himself.
Stuffing the hanky into a side pocket, he looked up at me. His lower lip quivered again, but he stilled it as if with stern resolve.
“We’ve…that is to say, the CAU…have located strange radio transmissions originating from Saturn.”
“You’re talking about aliens parked in Saturn’s rings?” I asked.
“Possibly… In any case, that’s what you and I need to determine.”
“You keep saying you. I don’t want you on my ship any longer than necessary. I sure don’t want to go to Mars with you.”
He patted his stomach. “I realize this. And that is why I have the persuader.”
“Are you sure there’s really a bomb in his gut?” I asked Rax.
“A double helix cobalt bomb,” the crystal said. “It is more than adequate to demolish the Guard ship, which would destroy the both of us, as well.”
I silently mouthed “double helix cobalt bomb” before turning to the Director.
“That doesn’t sound like Earth tech,” I said.