The Forever Hero

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Gerswin found himself wolfing the ration, metallic overtaste and all.

  “Lieutenant?”

  “Ummmm.” Gerswin had to swallow before he could answer.

  “What are those things?”

  “Don’t know. Look like the Gates to Hades. Expect there’s a lot hidden here on Old Earth, if you knew where to look.”

  “Is it true that they could do things that the Empire still hasn’t figured out?”

  “Could be,” the pilot mumbled while gulping down the last of the cakebread. “There’s a sphere in the weapons museum at the Academy that hasn’t been broken with any weapon or tool short of a tachead.

  “Maybe not that. Nobody’s tried. Say it was pre-Federation, Old Earth make, just before the collapse. About the size of a ball.” He sketched a circle in the air with his right hand. “Weighs nearly as much as a corvette. Mass? Who knows? Doesn’t seem to follow the laws we know. Takes special supports.”

  “Old Earth built it?”

  “Who knows?” Gerswin shrugged. “It was found on an Old Earth installation, somewhere…”

  Perdry tucked his legs up and braced them on the ramp edge.

  “Could we build doors like those in the mountain?”

  “Doors wouldn’t be a problem,” he answered deliberately, recalling the conversation he had overheard, “but the black metal they sealed them with…I don’t think so.”

  “If they could do that, why did they let everything fall apart?”

  Good question, thought Gerswin the devilkid. “Have to feed people, and something went wrong. Not enough food, not enough power, not enough time. Riots, fighting, starvation…”

  “So we really don’t know?”

  “Not really.”

  Gerswin crumpled the recyclable container and put it into the bin built into the cargo door. Ducking back out, he stepped onto the ramp and stretched.

  “Think I’ll go back and see how they’re doing. Unless you want to.”

  “No thanks, Lieutenant. Those big portals freeze me cold. Take your time.”

  Gerswin dropped off the cargo ramp and began the trek back up the hillside.

  By the time Gerswin reached the technical team, the laser had disappeared into the deepening bore. Still visible were the two techs in self-contained suits.

  A light rain of vaporized rock was dropping onto the clay/rock apron outside the tunnel, while the other techs and officers clustered around the portable screen.

  Gerswin caught a motion out of the corner of his eye and drop-turned, but recovered when he realized it was one of the three sentries on the surrounding ridgetops.

  A single tech, hands on hips, stood several paces away from the group that monopolized the planning screen. Gerswin forced himself to amble up slowly.

  “How does it look?”

  “It may take a while longer, Lieutenant. They slapped that black stuff and the beams over the whole thing. Then they covered it with rock and fused the rock solid. It looks like they did it to guard a tunnel into the mountain. They had to have done it in a hurry. The laser should get past the shielding before long. I’ll bet it’s less then five meters back.”

  Gerswin nodded, then asked, “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

  “No. I don’t think anyone else has, either, if you can believe how excited the commander was. He sent off a message torp as soon as we got a good cube of the exterior. I’ll bet he shows up as soon as we can get inside.”

  The pilot shook his head slowly, hoping the commander and commandant did not arrive with another complete entourage.

  “You’re right, Lieutenant. You’re right.”

  While Gerswin wasn’t exactly sure what he was right about, he decided to stay close to the tech, since the commander, assuming that distinguished officer did arrive, might not question anyone presumed with the technical party, but might well instruct Gerswin to stay with the skitter if he went back to the landing area.

  The tech shivered in the rising chill of the afternoon wind, drawing his jacket tighter as the light dimmed.

  Overhead the swirling gray clouds seemed a shade darker than usual, but Gerswin had already checked the meteorological situation. There were no landspouts in the area. Even had there been, few if any went beyond the first line of hills, and the gates were well beyond the first foothills.

  The area seemed strangely quiet, and Gerswin and the tech looked up. The rain of recongealed stone had stopped, as had the hissing of the laser.

  The pilot and the technician watched as the laser and the accumulator cart slowly backed from the tunnel bore, guided by the two suited techs.

  The shorter suited figure, whose gray shiny suit did nothing to conceal her physical endowments, raised a clenched fist overhead and shook it.

  “I guess the commander will miss the opening of the show, Lieutenant. Why don’t you come along?”

  The man grinned.

  Gerswin repressed his own grin.

  “I’d like to, thank you.”

  “It will be a bit, until the tunnel cools and we’re sure there’s decent air inside. They’ll have to check for background radiation inside as well.”

  “Background radiation?”

  “You couldn’t prove it by me, but the only way I know to get the front of a mountain turned into solid glass is with a nuclear device.”

  “But there’s no radiation outside, is there?”

  “No. That just means they used a clean burst.”

  Gerswin took the time surveying the hillside, the clouds, and the massive gates themselves, still standing there in unshining black, as if Old Earth’s ancients had been led to Hades and the gates barred behind them.

  The gray of the clouds lightened and the wind dropped to a mere breeze.

  Another equipment cart was trundled into the laser bore, where it remained for a time before being withdrawn. Another data bloc was taken from the cart and inserted into the portable screen console.

  Whatever the results, they appeared satisfactory, from what Gerswin could see from all the heads nodding.

  Major Hylton, the tall officer directing the operation, led the first group into the laser bore, less than two meters high.

  The technician nodded at Gerswin, and the two trooped with the second group, just a few meters behind the major. Nearly half the party had to stoop.

  After roughly eight meters, the tunnel veered to the left and broke into a dimly lit space. One by one, the officers and technicians, and, finally, the former devilkid, stepped through the ragged opening into a larger passage ten meters wide and more than five meters high.

  Twin strips of glowing panels built flush into the ceiling lit the unadorned passage, unless the light blue, fist-sized, square tiles which walled the sides of the corridor could be considered decoration.

  Looking to the left, Gerswin could see only a set of three meter high doors, black metal finished and also apparently welded shut. There was no indication of the giant gates which stood on the far side.

  He turned back and looked at the corridor before the party.

  The passage sloped downward gradually for another fifty meters to end in still another set of doors. The massive endurasteel doors, each three meters high and two meters wide, hung open, sitting intact on twin hinges each longer than Gerswin’s arm.

  The pilot sniffed. The air had but the slightest tinge of age to it, and Gerswin could feel the hint of a breeze coming from the open doors.

  “Why didn’t they lock those as well?” asked Major Hylton.

  “Maybe they figured anyone who could break the exterior bonds could break these as well.”

  “No time,” muttered Gerswin, but the corridor was so silent that his low words carried to the major, who turned to identify the speaker.

  “That might be, Lieutenant. That might be.”

  The major glanced back at the sealed doors behind them and at the ragged breach through the tiled wall.

  “Darden, you and N’Bolgia stay here. Just in
case,” ordered the major.

  In case of what, wondered Gerswin. Two people won’t be able to stop those doors if they’re powered.

  Despite his misgivings, he followed the major and the others through the opening and into a square hallway, from which branched three other corridors.

  The major took the right-hand one, the one which had a red arrow pointing again downward. That corridor ended abruptly less than a hundred meters farther when it expanded into an archway which led to a semicircular hall. The hall was filled with low, wide consoles arranged in arcs facing the circular section of wall. On the wall stretched a map of the Earth, continent by continent.

  Gerswin frowned at the arbitrary markings within the continents, then relaxed as he realized they represented not only the topography, but some sort of political boundaries.

  He searched and found the Noram boundaries and tried to compare them mentally with what his current charts showed. The wall display was different. To what degree he was uncertain, although some of the differences were obvious. While the coastal areas seemed the same, off the western Noram coasts, where the display showed ocean, there were also a series of lines enclosing “political” boundaries, as if to indicate that the continent had extended farther once than it now did.

  Several moments passed as the group surveyed the room.

  “Look!”

  Gerswin studied the map again, trying to figure out what he was to look for, when he saw the blinking red dot slowly traversing from the lower left toward the upper right.

  He pulled at his chin. Something else about the wall map bothered him, not just the moving dot, although he wondered about it as well.

  His mouth dropped as it hit him all at once, and he wanted to pound his own head for his slowness in understanding. The display was neither painted nor embossed, not a static display, but a composite projection.

  The display showed the actual terrain as it existed right at the moment. The lines represented some sort of governmental or political boundaries dating back to the time the projection had been developed. That was why the lines on the western Noram coast were projected out over the ocean.

  But what were the occasional lights on the map? Some seemed stationary while others moved. Gerswin could see three red ones, two pale blue ones, and a green.

  One of the red ones—stationary—seemed to match the position of orbit control.

  “That’s it!” he whispered, but his voice carried in the quiet.

  “That’s what, Lieutenant?” asked Major Hylton.

  “Just a guess, Major. Red lights represent strange orbiting bodies. Blue and green are known, probably what remains of their network.”

  “Are you suggesting that this equipment is operational?”

  “Has to be. One red light moves.”

  “After more than a thousand years, Lieutenant?”

  Gerswin shrugged, wished he had kept his exclamation to himself. “Check it out. One red light should have orbit control position. Others may be captured satellites, hulks, objects in orbit. Wouldn’t be surprised if the green or blue lights are satellites in orbit, maybe beaming information here…somewhere, somehow.”

  “That center light is about right for orbit control,” offered one of the techs.

  “If you’re right, Lieutenant, this could be the find of the century. Think of it. Actual operating pre-Federation equipment.”

  Gerswin refrained from shaking his head. While they would have discovered what he had speculated, sooner or later, the discovery only left a sour taste in his mouth. Why, he could not have described, but the bitterness was hard to swallow.

  He edged back toward the archway while the technicians’ speculations continued.

  “What sort of power…”

  “Can you believe the clarity of that display? Must have a resolution…”

  “Consoles sealed shut…”

  Quietly, he ducked out and headed back up the passageway to where the three corridors had branched. Since the two guards were on the outside of the portals, chatting to each other, where neither could see the junction, he was able to follow the green arrow without being challenged.

  Despite the passage of who knew how many years, there was no dust on the smooth and seamless floor.

  Gerswin shook his head. Could the Empire build something to last more than a dozen centuries, without any outside direction, and still have it function? He doubted it, and that bothered him as well.

  What else lay under the scoured rolling hills and the rock of the mountains?

  The green arrow led him to a series of five doors, plain ordinary hinged doors, doors that stood open.

  Gerswin peered inside the first door.

  Another narrow corridor beckoned, lined with doors at three meter intervals. The pilot walked down the passageway to the first door and stuck his head within.

  His suspicions were correct. The small rooms were quarters, each with an alcove for a bunk, though none remained; a built-in desk with an oblong console, now covered with a flat metal plate; and two built-in lockers. Besides the gray metal of the built-ins and the console, nothing had been left.

  A quick survey of the next few rooms showed only a similar pattern.

  Gerswin retreated to the larger corridor and checked the second of the five doors. Same pattern. That was true of the third and fourth doors as well.

  The fifth door led him down a wider corridor to a set of double doors, closed, but not locked. He glanced back the thirty meters to the open door before opening the double doors and stepping through. A vacant room, roughly thirty meters on a side, greeted him. On the far side, two sets of double doors, spaced equidistantly along the wall, stood closed.

  Gerswin suspected he would find another room behind them, empty except for plated-over spots in the wall and flooring, but he crossed the room he would have described as a dining hall in quick steps and pushed back one of the swinging doors. It moved silently at his touch, and he looked into a narrower room with plated-over spots on walls and floors that had once been a kitchen. A sealed archway was the only other sign of an exit.

  Gerswin nodded as he recrossed the ancient dining hall and retraced his steps back to the original junction. The two guards did not hear him as they discussed the merits of freefall dancing.

  He slipped past the open portals and began to follow the black arrow. As he turned the first corner and walked toward another set of open portals, similar in size and construction to the pair he had just passed, he could hear the murmur of voices behind him.

  Once he was through the still-shining portals, he stood at the top of a sharply descending ramp that made a right angle turn roughly every twenty meters. He started down.

  The overhead lighting was still furnished by the twin panel strips built in flush with the overhead, still with the same constant intensity.

  After what Gerswin judged to have been a descent of nearly fifty meters and four complete circuits, the corridor ended abruptly. Facing the pilot was a wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling sheet of the black metal that had sealed the main exterior gates. Unlike the outside, this time the metal was featureless, merely a smooth finish across the corridor.

  In the middle, at eye-level, were a series of symbols. One was a red hand held up in the human halt signal. The second was comprised of three luminescent green triangles within a shining yellow circle. A single word was beneath, which Gerswin could not read. The third symbol was a skull and crossbones.

  Gerswin smiled grimly in spite of himself. The message was clear.

  After a last look to make sure the way was completely sealed, he turned and trudged back up the ramp.

  He slowed as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “Gerswin here!” he called.

  “Lieutenant?”

  “The same.”

  He waited as one of the techs peered around the corner, laser in hand.

  “It’s him, ser.”

  “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you wait?” Leadin
g the crew was Major Hylton.

  “Just wanted to take a look around, ser. Didn’t want to get in your way.”

  “Lieutenant, in the future, please refrain from exploring on your own. We could have failed to recognize you, and we do need some transportation back to Prime Base.”

  Gerswin smiled.

  “Sorry, ser. I’ll be more careful.”

  “What’s down below?”

  “Hades only knows. Sealed with that black metal about two turns down.”

  “Sealed?”

  “Yes, ser. Three clear danger signals posted.”

  “Should see that…,” muttered one of the techs standing next to the major.

  “Yes, we should see that,” repeated the senior officer.

  Gerswin stepped to one side. “Probably more your orbit than mine, Major.”

  “Well…We should have at least an overall idea of what’s here for our report.”

  Gerswin stood next to the wall as the dozen technicians followed the major on his downward travels.

  Then he turned and climbed back up to the portals and the two guards, who were still swapping stories.

  “Gerswin here,” he announced. “I’m returning to the skitter to get ready for the return trip.”

  “Fine, Lieutenant.”

  “Hey, what’s down there?”

  “Something they’ll wish they hadn’t found. My guess, anyway.”

  At the inquisitive, nearly hurt look on Darden’s face, Gerswin expanded his cryptic remark. “A current geographic projection still operating from satellite transmitters, a bunch of empty quarters, and a sealed tunnel they’ll never open, marked with universal danger symbols. The projection seems to be updated moment by moment.”

  “Still operational?”

  “Absolutely. The major doesn’t know whether to be in ecstasy or worried as Hades.”

  “Worried is what he ought to be,” opined N’Bolgia.

  “You serious about that projection, Lieutenant?”

  “Dead serious. Shows the mountains, the oceans. Think it even shows I.S.S. orbit control.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That’s enough. Sealed consoles, empty rooms. Place was closed down permanently for a reason. Don’t understand why the projection was left operational.”