The Lost Tech Read online

  The blue tractor beams vanished. Now, though, the inner sides of the ring began to flash with a Christmas-light mixture of colors. Those lights bathed the waiting asteroid, and it jiggled, it seemed, in the center of the great Accelerator.

  “Sir,” the comm person said. “The Queen would like a word with you.”

  Dag rose from his seat and staggered to the comm. He saw Meyers staring out of the comm screen. She was radiant indeed, a beauty beyond compare.

  “Dag, Dag, do you see the asteroid?”

  “I see it,” he said.

  “This is partly your doing, your awesome success. I’m greatly pleased with you, Dag. After I fire 16 Psyche at Earth, you will continue your search for Maddox. I will not use the Accelerator again if I don’t have to, which I shouldn’t, as the asteroid should pulverize the Earth for me.”

  “Is there any danger for us out here?”

  “None,” the Queen said. “Just make sure you stay on the right side of the Accelerator.”

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  “Oh, Dag, this is a glorious moment. I so hate those on Earth. I hate Star Watch and the Commonwealth of Planets that makes Star Watch possible. I am about to begin the great slaying. How I have longed for this event. I…I wish to share it with you, my Champion.”

  Dag stood straighter, his heart pounding with pleasure. This was his Queen. Soon, very soon, he would have her naked beside him as they entwined in love.

  “Watch now, Champion, as I unleash 16 Psyche at the arrogant bastards of Star Watch.”

  Dag did watch, but it didn’t happen right away. He imagined it took great calibrations and calculations to make sure the asteroid flew the right path. Where did the Inertialess Accelerator get the needed power? Surely, it must come from the heavy planet, from the core power source.

  The ring began to glow with the hellish red color again. An opening appeared. It was a rip from one universe to another. The multicolored flashes intensified along the entire inner ring. There was a bigger flash, a Sunlight flare of light, and blue pressor beams shoved the asteroid out of the ring and toward the opening.

  It was majestic and awe-inspiring. Dag felt goosebumps run up and down his arms. The asteroid gained speed. It moved so damned fast that Dag could hardly credit his eyes. Yes, the asteroid flashed out of the opening and into normal time and space.

  At that point, the opening closed, and the mighty Inertialess Accelerator started powering down, as it had once more done its assigned task as created many millennia ago.

  -67-

  Asteroid 16 Psyche flew from its former location in the Asteroid Belt for Earth. It was a little over 200 kilometers in diameter, a planet killer if there ever was one. Given Earth’s present location and where it would soon be, and the distance from the spot in the Asteroid Belt, it came to almost exactly three AUs.

  That meant, from its launching, 16 Psyche needed a mere 6,000 seconds to reach Earth. That translated into one hour and forty minutes, as the giant missile traveled at one-quarter light-speed, or 75,000 kilometers per second.

  Fortunately, for Earth, for Star Watch and the Commonwealth, Lord High Admiral Cook had anticipated something like this. His strategy team had been going over possibilities for weeks.

  Firstly, Patrol vessels scoured the general area where Victory had shoved its way into the null region. Those Patrol vessels scanned and scanned, using the tiny signals to the universe that told the location of the mobile null region.

  Secondly, Cook had pulled his Conqueror-class battleships back to Mars, even as he’d summoned more vessels to race to the Solar System. He did not have the Grand Fleet, but he did have a powerful complement of Star Watch’s best battleships ready to stave off any icy planetesimal or asteroid attacks upon humanity’s homeworld.

  Thirdly, the personnel in Pluto, operating the Builder Scanner, were on high alert, and had been for some time. They were in constant touch with the Lord High Admiral, via their Long-Range Builder Communicator.

  The Patrol vessels caught the null region’s movement as it left at high speed.

  The Patrol team contacted Pluto, and soon, the Builder Scanner watched for the telltale signs, like looking for a submarine causing the tiniest ripples on the ocean’s surface.

  Star Watch went on highest alert. The Conqueror-class battleships, twenty-six of them, congregated in orbit around Mars, ready to use their star-drive jump to move into position.

  The people in Pluto missed Meyers grabbing 16 Psyche. Nor did they spot the flashing asteroid right away. A Star Watch sensor team on the dwarf planet Ceres found it, sending a message as fast as possible.

  What it meant in this instance, because of the delay of stellar messages, was that Star Watch lost a precious thirty-two minutes before the Lord High Admiral learned what was happening.

  More minutes were lost as messages flashed to Mars. They took time, the speed of light, which today mean only four times faster than 16 Psyche as it sped toward a collision with Earth.

  Finally, with fifty-two minutes until impact, the Conqueror-class battleships began leaving Mars orbit for the rendezvous point selected by the Lord High Admiral.

  If Star Watch hadn’t been on high alert, with data received from Strand via the Emperor through Captain Maddox, there would have been no chance of saving Earth.

  Now, twenty-three of Star Watch’s best battleships—with modifications from the heavy elements from the Chthonian planet in the Alpha Centauri System—popped into position between 16 Psyche and Earth.

  The M-type asteroid was coming fast, and it was composed of nickel-iron. Nevertheless, the same basic tactic as before was put into effect.

  This time, instead of nuclear-tipped missiles, the battleships launched slews of antimatter missiles. They were not all going to hit at once, but they were going to strike in staggered sequence as far away from Earth as possible. If they had gotten word twenty minutes earlier—even ten minutes earlier—it would have made a big difference. But the battleship captains had what they had.

  The first antimatter missile struck. It did minimal damage to the overall asteroid, as 16 Psyche was over two hundred kilometers in diameter. In mass, it dwarfed the combined battleships coming against it.

  The antimatter missiles kept hitting, blasting the M-type asteroid with kinetic force. At this point, the battleships were attempting to move 16 Psyche off course, but its mass was great, and they hadn’t been able to get to it soon enough.

  The race became tight and frightening.

  “Use mass antimatter missiles,” the Lord High Admiral ordered.

  The missiles flew, and now, battleships started beaming the asteroid from the sides, burning away mass as much as they could in the few minutes given them.

  In the end, it would not have worked except for a single flaw. This time, the flaw was in 16 Psyche, a major tectonic crack inside the asteroid fashioned so long ago. The repeated hammerings from the antimatter missiles and the disruptor beam assaults caused the crack to lengthen until 16 Psyche split into two uneven parts.

  The Lord High Admiral gave fast orders, and the captains on the spot reacted almost instantly. They concentrated the last of their antimatter missiles on the larger chunk, and they moved it a little more off course, a little more—the two pieces collided, and that might have saved the day. The pieces hit and caromed off each other like billiard balls. That shifted each chunk just enough.

  In this instance, the smaller piece passed the Earth by 732,000 kilometers. Fortunately, the Moon was on the other side as it passed, and it never came near colliding with it. The larger piece passed the Earth by a mere 349,000 kilometers. That was a shave, and it created anomalies on Earth in passing. Luckily, it too passed while the Moon was on the other side of the planet. If it hadn’t, millions and possibly billions would have died on Earth that day.

  The first major asteroid assault on Earth had failed, but it had taken eighty-four percent of the battleships’ antimatter missiles and burned out seven Conqueror-class engines
due to the intense beaming. It would take time to replenish those missiles and fix those engines. Until such time, Earth was open to another asteroid attack.

  -68-

  Maddox had no idea if 16 Psyche had succeeded in demolishing the Earth nor not. The only indication that maybe it had not was that the ring began to shiver as it had earlier.

  “No, no,” Ludendorff said, who stared at the other wall. “It’s happening again. I need more time. I can’t figure it out quickly enough.”

  “What’s happening?” Maddox asked.

  “You can see as well as I,” Ludendorff said. “The ring is activating. Meyers is going to launch another asteroid.”

  “Where are we? I mean the null region.”

  “We’ve moved to the Inner Asteroid Belt,” Ludendorff said. “I think she’s going to grab and launch an S-type asteroid. There may be a benefit in that for her, as it will reach the Earth sooner from launch than 16 Psyche did, or it will if the first asteroid failed.”

  Maddox stood in shock. His grandmother and the Lord High Admiral lived on Earth. So many of his early memories came from his years on Earth. Could Star Watch survive the destruction of humanity’s homeworld? Could the Commonwealth of Planets?

  Maddox shook his head. He didn’t want to have to discover the answer. “Professor!” he shouted. “Can’t you—”

  “No, no,” Ludendorff half screamed. “Don’t you ever listen to me? I haven’t had enough time to know how to drive the null region.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Maddox said. “Can you shut down the ring?”

  “What? No. Alas, not yet,” Ludendorff said. “I’m still working on it.”

  “The shaking is getting worse,” Meta said. “I think the ring is making another opening, pulling in another asteroid.”

  “Confound it,” Ludendorff said. “Confound it to Hades and the Tartarus Underworld. This is too much, just too—”

  “Professor!” Maddox shouted, interrupting the man. “Can you do anything to the ring to spoil their shot?”

  “What do you mean, my boy? Do what exactly?”

  Maddox bent his head, thinking, trying to come up with a concept. Then, he heard it.

  REVERSE THE POLARITY.

  Maddox clutched at his helmet, falling to his knees. His head pounded with pain. He knew what had happened. The Hormagaunt had sent him a message, and it had nearly slain him, maybe blown fuses in his mind.

  “Darling, what’s wrong?” Meta asked, as she rushed to and knelt beside him.

  Maddox groaned. He did not like hearing that in himself. He struggled to a sitting position. He could hardly see. It was as if he had a migraine headache and it had blackened his vision.

  “If only I knew what to do,” Ludendorff said. “This is a calamity, a calamity.”

  “Reverse the polarity,” Maddox whispered.

  “What is that, my love?” Meta asked. “What did you say?”

  Maddox repeated the words.

  “What does that mean?” Meta asked.

  “Tell…tell the professor what I said.”

  Meta straightened. “Professor,” she said, “what would happen if you reversed the polarity?”

  “Eh?” Ludendorff asked. “What does that even mean?”

  “No, please don’t speak again,” Maddox whispered.

  “What’s wrong, my love?” Meta asked.

  “That wasn’t meant for you or the professor but for the creature out there,” Maddox whispered. He summoned his reserves of strength and struggled to his feet. Swaying, looking around, he spied Ludendorff as a tiny speck. Maddox staggered toward the Methuselah Man.

  “What’s up, my boy? You don’t seem well.”

  Maddox reached the old codger and grabbed him by the bulky photon suit. “Listen to me,” the captain whispered. “When the rock is in the Accelerator, you must reverse the polarity.”

  “And…?”

  “And that should send the asteroid straight at the heavy planet instead of Earth.”

  There was a moment of silence, perhaps even stunned silence.

  “Eureka and more,” Ludendorff said softly. “That is brilliant, my boy, simply off the charts wonderful. How did you ever think of that?”

  “Hormagaunt…” Maddox whispered.

  “What’s that? The beast told you—no, no, we cannot do it then. Don’t you see? The Hormagaunt must be using you. If the heavy planet is gone—”

  “Professor,” Maddox whispered, as the strength oozed from him due to the pounding headache. “We take one challenge at a time. If we don’t stop Meyers, she’ll destroy the Earth.”

  “But if we release the Hormagaunt, my boy…”

  “One is assured destruction. The other is merely a possibility,” Maddox said.

  “You ask so much, so very much of me.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Meta said. “I think the ring already has the asteroid in place.”

  “Damnation!” Ludendorff howled, shaking his gloved fists in the air. “But I know how to do this. I think I do. The question is, should I do it?”

  “I’ll kill you if you don’t try.”

  “Don’t threaten me, my boy. I must decide for myself. I must think.”

  “You don’t have any more time, Professor,” Meta said. “Please, do it or the Earth is finished.”

  “Can you give me one good reason why I should?” Ludendorff asked in a stricken voice.

  “You’re part of the crew,” Meta said. “You belong with us. The captain has made his decision—”

  “And if he’s wrong?” Ludendorff asked, interrupting.

  “As the captain, he bears the responsibility,” Meta said.

  “No, no, I cannot accept that,” Ludendorff said. “I will not shift my responsibly in the matter because of a man’s mere title.”

  “Then show me how to do it,” Meta said. “I’ll reverse the polarity.”

  The Methuselah Man stared at her, stared a little longer. “Maddox does not deserve a wonder like you. You are too convincing, Meta dear.” Ludendorff turned toward a bank of panels, and he lurched there. He typed, he manipulated, and he groaned several times. With an oath, Ludendorff pitched off his gloves, typing madly and making weeping noises the entire while.

  Maddox sat up as the professor worked. He took off his helmet, and nearly passed out. Meta knelt by him and rubbed his forehead with her gloved fingers. Slowly, the terrible pounding in his brain began to dissipate.

  “Here,” Meta said, “put this back on.”

  Maddox let her put the helmet back on his head, and he twisted and latched it into place. He breathed deeply, and he no longer felt like puking.

  “This is it,” Ludendorff said. He hunched over a panel, with his gloved right hand hovering over a control. “This is the moment. Heaven forgive me please.”

  The Methuselah Man pressed a switch, and the shaking in the room ceased immediately, only to start again, and much worse than before.

  -69-

  In the subterranean control chamber on the heavy planet, Lisa Meyers watched Phelps and his team at work. They seemed feverish, and they had begun giving each other wild side glances. Phelps took out a rag, wiping sweat from his face and neck. He started shaking his head.

  “You,” Meyers said. “What’s wrong? Why are you so nervous?”

  Phelps turned toward her with an agonizing glance. “I don’t understand this. It shouldn’t do this.”

  Meyers became concerned, and she approached the weasel of a technician, the best of the ones she’d left with Surbus those many months ago. She motioned so her soldier guards followed directly behind her.

  “Is the Inertialess Accelerator about to fire the asteroid?” she asked.

  “Yes, yes—”

  “Then what’s the problem? Can’t you target properly?”

  “Your Highness!” Phelps cried. “The asteroid is about to fire at us.”

  “What are you saying?” Meyers shouted.

  “The polarity reversed. I
don’t know how. We’ve been trying to re-reverse it, put it back to normal. But it’s as if someone is fighting us on the Accelerator itself.”

  “Maddox!” Meyers said. “This is his doing. I know it. Work harder, you fool. If the asteroid fires at us—”

  “Destruction, Highness,” Phelps said. “We’ll all die.”

  Meyers backed away from Phelps as her heart pounded. This couldn’t be happening. That bastard, that gadfly Maddox was doing it again. “You must stop it!” she shrieked.

  “I’m trying,” Phelps sobbed, “but nothing’s working.”

  “When will it launch?”

  “Seventy-three seconds,” Phelps said. “We’re doomed. We’re doomed. We’re all going to die.” And he collapsed into a heap, weeping hysterically.

  Meyers stared at him, his collapse confirmation of what was going to happen. If she was caught down here when the asteroid struck—Meyers whirled around and sprinted. She crossed the room and dashed down the hall to her Merovingian guards.

  “A portal,” she shrieked. “Make a portal to the hauler. Do it immediately or we’re dead.”

  The captain of her guards kept his head. He’d protected her for several years already. Grabbing his ready men, he roared at them to construct a portal to the hauler.

  They had done this many times, and they connected lances and plugged that arrangement into emergency power packs.

  “Hurry,” Meyers shouted, no longer shrieking and red-faced. If anyone could do this, it would be her elite guards.

  “We’re ready,” the guard captain said.

  Meyers swallowed a lump down her throat. Even if she could reach the hauler—she quit thinking negatively and raced at the portal, diving through…

  ***

  Dag stood by the bridge comm, frowning at the shouted message he’d received from the heavy planet. It was something about a disaster, reversed polarity in the ring.

  He turned to the main screen, eyeing the giant silver ring—red-hot this moment. The asteroid in the center quivered. It was half the size of 16 Psyche. According to the chronometer, it was about to eject back into normal space as it raced at the Earth.