The Lost Tech

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Understood,” Valerie said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  Castiano disappeared as someone at Tortuga Central cut the connection.

  The battle on the main screen expanded.

  “Now they’re launching missiles at us,” Andros said.

  Valerie nodded, with her eyes on the distant battleship. The shield had turned black and wavered. Abruptly, the shield collapsed.

  “Yes!” Keith shouted, pumping a fist into the air.

  Three disruptor beams and one neutron beam hammered at the battleship’s armor.

  The other renegade vessels began to accelerate away from the stricken battleship, and that included the two Q-ship haulers.

  The beams burned into battleship armor, digging, digging—the Lauenburg began accelerating away from its brethren.

  “There is something strange going on over there,” Galyan said. “Do you detect it, Andros?”

  “Negative,” the Kai-Kaus Chief Technician said.

  “Check your ultra-wavelengths,” Galyan suggested.

  “Checking,” Andros said, as he manipulated his panel.

  At that point, one of the disruptor beams must have breached the Lauenburg’s hull armor and begun probing within the vessel. Likely, the deadly disruptor beam burned through decks, bulkheads and other material to reach the antimatter engine. The engine exploded, the antimatter blast blowing the ship apart like a hand grenade. The super-heated blast consumed matter and hurled the rest, spreading gamma and X-rays, EMP and heat.

  The nearby vessels’ shields went from red to brown.

  That’s when fifty or more warheads ignited among the outward-speeding missiles, creating a large whiteout zone in the sensor readings. All the erupting warheads were shaped charges, sending gamma and X-ray radiation outward and not in.

  “We’ve safe from the premature detonations out here,” Andros said.

  “What about the captain’s shuttle?” Valerie asked.

  “It’s farther away than we are from the ignitions,” Andros said. “He should be okay, as part of the debris field will help shield him.”

  “Are any missiles heading at him?” Valerie asked.

  “I can’t tell yet,” Andros said. “The whiteout is still in effect.”

  “Galyan?” asked Valerie.

  “It is no different for me,” Galyan told her.

  It took time, but finally the sensor whiteout caused by the multiple blasts began to dissipate.

  “I don’t believe it,” Andros said, studying his board.

  “What don’t you believe?” Valerie demanded.

  “Galyan,” Andros said. “What are you seeing?”

  “Regarding what?” the holoimage asked.

  “The renegades,” Andros said.

  “Oh,” Galyan said. His eyelids fluttered before he turned to Valerie. “Lieutenant, the enemy vessels have vanished.”

  “You mean destroyed,” Valerie said.

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered more. “No, Valerie, I mean vanished. I detect debris from one battleship and one destroyed hauler. That is it. The others have vanished.”

  “Have they cloaked?” Valerie asked, dumbfounded.

  “No,” Andros said, answering for Galyan. “He’s right. They’re gone, not cloaked. I checked for that.”

  “How did they vanish?” Valerie asked.

  Andros nodded. “That, Lieutenant, is a good question. I suggest they launched the missiles to create the sensor whiteout so none of us would see how they did whatever they did.”

  “Ah…” Galyan said. “Yes. That is clever and just as clever reasoning on your part.”

  Valerie glanced from Andros to Galyan. “Vanished,” she said. “That can’t be good.”

  “Who’s going to tell the captain?” Keith asked from helm.

  No one answered.

  -22-

  Maddox, Riker and Grace Hyperion reached Starship Victory, landing in a hangar bay. A waiting medical team hurried Riker away on a grav unit. Valerie met the captain afterward and told him what had occurred during the short engagement. Maddox nodded, silently absorbing the information.

  “You don’t seem upset about it,” Valerie said.

  Maddox glanced at her. “We’re dealing with a Methuselah Woman. Meyers obviously has access to technology superior to some of ours. Upset, no. Worried, I’ll admit it.” The captain glanced at a subdued and listening Grace Hyperion.

  “Who is she?” Valerie asked.

  “A prisoner,” Maddox said.

  “Is she Grace Hyperion?” Valerie asked.

  “Indeed,” Maddox said, with the lift of an eyebrow.

  “The Brethren Council has been demanding her return.”

  “Is that so?” Maddox said. “Well, that’s not my problem.”

  Valerie gave him a funny look.

  “She’s Golden Ural’s prisoner, not ours,” the captain said. “Technically.”

  “Technically. I see,” Valerie said, sarcasm leaking through. “So, uh, when did we start holding prisoners for the New Men?”

  “Enough of that,” Maddox said. “I owe my uncle. Now, I need to speak with him.” Maddox eyed Grace Hyperion. “Keep a watch on her, would you?”

  Without waiting for Valerie’s answer, Maddox moved away from them, asking a marine for a comm unit. When Maddox had it, he said, “Galyan.”

  The holoimage appeared as the marine walked away.

  Maddox indicated the unit. “Patch me through to the Boreas. Ask for Golden Ural.”

  “Captain,” Ural soon said through the comm unit.

  Maddox explained the situation to his uncle, giving him Valerie’s assessment of what had happened.

  “We concluded the same thing,” Ural said. “Meyers escaped. That’s all that really matters.”

  “If she did escape, they used a superior form of transportation, one unknown to us.”

  “Hmm, yes,” Ural said. “If you could take a shuttle and meet me three-quarters of the way to return Grace Hyperion to me, I would appreciate it.”

  “Three-quarters?” asked Maddox, perplexed.

  “Yes, from Victory to the Boreas.”

  Maddox’s eyebrows arched upward. “Why not halfway?”

  “Are you such a stickler for formalities?” Ural asked.

  “Are you?”

  “I’m afraid so, Captain. I rather insist.”

  “It’s important?”

  “Not to you, but to…well, not to me either. But there is a reason for it.”

  “One you’re not going to tell me?” Maddox asked.

  “That is correct,” Ural said.

  “And this concerns Meyers?”

  “Not the issue of three-quarters of the way, but what we discuss together will.”

  “Fine, fine,” Maddox said. “How soon—”

  “Immediately,” Ural said.

  Maddox stared at the comm unit before he put it back to his ear. “Is it wise to travel by shuttle this near Tortuga?”

  “Oh, yes, as it lets the pirates know that Star Watch and the Throne World can work together. That should give the Brethren pause if they’re thinking of raiding our respective planets and ships.”

  “Is the three-quarters display for them?”

  “Really, Captain, we already went over that part. Don’t be tedious.”

  “Yeah…” Maddox said. “Very well, I’m on my way.”

  ***

  Maddox floated through a short plastic tube connecting the two shuttles. The two star cruisers were visible from it, as they were closer than Victory. The debris field around the dwarf planet was also quite visible and prominent.

  The captain had changed into his dress uniform complete with a holstered blaster at his hip. He was sure he knew now why Ural had asked for him to make the three-quarters of the way portion of the journey. New Men were extraordinarily rank and class conscious among themselves, as status was primarily gained through excellence, especially in martial matters. It was possible there were New Men spi
es among his uncle’s crew, spies to report to other politically powerful New Men. The three-quarters travel for Maddox would show the spies that Star Watch deeply respected Ural—or something like that, anyway.

  The outer hull hatch opened, although no one greeted the captain. He would have been surprised if someone had. He entered the airlock, went through the cycling and stepped into the shuttle complete with gravity. He followed a blinking floor-light along a corridor until he reached a hall hatch. It opened. Maddox ducked his head, entering a Spartan chamber with a small round high table and two long-legged stools.

  Ural stood on the other side of the table, which held a blaster and a reader.

  “Long time no see,” Maddox said.

  “Where’s my prisoner?”

  Maddox stood silently and then tapped his chin with an index finger. “You never used a shuttle to leave Tortuga. That leads me to believe you captured and used a—let’s call it a Merovingian Transfer Gate.”

  It was Ural’s turn to remain silent.

  “I assume I’m correct,” Maddox said.

  “Assume as you wish. It is your prerogative, after all. More to the point, though, where is the prisoner I gave into your custody?”

  “The New Men, as others call you, wish for correct protocol and respect. I have said hello, as that was what ‘long time no see’ meant.” After explaining, Maddox stared at his uncle.

  “Hello,” Ural finally muttered.

  “Ah. Thank you. As to your second point, your prisoner is still in my shuttle.”

  “Why not bring her here immediately?”

  “I thought it would better to do that after we’re done,” Maddox said.

  “I see… Is this a demonstration of distrust?”

  “No, a matter of form, just like saying hello,” Maddox said. “Or meeting halfway instead of three-quarters.”

  “Oh. Well.”

  Having made his point, Maddox eyed his uncle’s blaster on the table and drew his own, approaching the table and putting it beside the other.

  Ural dipped his head as if honoring Maddox for following correct protocol. “Would you care for a glass of wine before we get started?”

  “Thank you, but no. We should get to the point.”

  “Then by all means, proceed,” Ural said.

  “Thanks,” Maddox said, drawing a breath. “Lisa Meyers escaped Tortuga and the star system. That seems likely anyway, given what happened. She transferred from Tortuga to one of the waiting vessels, and they escaped via an unknown method. I believe you were going to tell me something important related to that”

  Ural indicated the reader.

  “Ah.” Maddox reached for the reader.

  “Just a moment before we proceed further,” Ural said.

  Maddox looked up.

  “I take it you know about Cook speaking to the Emperor.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Maddox said.

  “It is germane to the issue. Your Lord High Admiral used his Long-Range Builder Communicator to call the Throne World. Cook told the Emperor how you and Ludendorff faced the Prime Saa on Luna at the end of the secret war against the Liss cybers. According to Cook, the Prime Saa bargained for its life, or at least pretended to in order to gain time to marshal its remaining forces. Critical to our purpose, it offered to reveal the maturing and evil plans of Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. According to Cook, you two declined the offer, killing the Prime Saa instead in order to free humanity from further Liss machinations.”

  Maddox nodded. Essentially, that was what had happened. He wasn’t sure why Cook had told the Emperor, though.

  “I realize some of this might be a rehash for you,” Ural said. “But it is important that we have our facts straight.”

  “No problem. Please, proceed.”

  Ural dipped his head. “According to what we know, Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers was in stasis for thousands of years with a Builder and crew in a vessel that had visited a Jotun gas giant. A Yon Soth’s ray from a dubious machine on the Forbidden Planet awakened her several years ago, and she soon began intriguing against the Commonwealth. Cook desired to know more about her and sought information from Methuselah Man Strand via the Emperor.”

  Maddox nodded. Strand was a prisoner on the Throne World, as the captain had brought the Methuselah Man there many years ago already.

  “I’m sorry to say that Strand fed us gibberish regarding Lisa Meyers,” Ural said. “It was a twisted tale, and we concluded almost all of it was lies.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Since then, the Emperor and I have come to believe that Strand fears Meyers.”

  “You questioned Strand yourself?” Maddox asked.

  “I did.”

  “And you feel that you know Strand well enough to judge whether or not—”

  “No more,” Ural said, holding up a palm. “You’re my nephew, and you’ve become something more than what you were, but I won’t let you insult me with endless questions as if I’m your subordinate, particularly not on my shuttle.”

  A momentary flash of heat surged through Maddox, but he suppressed it.

  “Ah…” Ural said, who watched him. “That was well done. I hadn’t expected such emotional control in you yet.”

  “Never mind about that,” Maddox said testily. “If you questioned Strand and if he lied to you…”

  Ural looked away before regarding Maddox again. “It’s difficult to know how much I should explain. There are some on the Throne World…well. We won’t address that. Instead, we should make this quick, and that means sticking to the issue. You thwarted Meyers once already—when she attempted to install a puppet president as head of the Commonwealth—and I think she desperately resents that. I’ve also come to believe that she’s mentally unbalanced.”

  Maddox opened his mouth.

  “A moment, please,” Ural said. “I don’t mean to say she’s mad. She clearly isn’t. She outthought and outmaneuvered both of us, and then did it again once we gained an advantage due to that idiot Dagobert and your resourceful sergeant. What I mean by unbalanced is that her ideals are warped. Do you remember what that android told you, the one who joined your crew when you jumped to the Scutum-Centaurus Spiral Arm and found the Sovereign Hierarchy of Leviathan?”

  “Oh, you’re talking about Batrun.”

  “Yes, him,” Ural said. “He told you about the Yon Soth on the Forbidden Planet, the machine and evil plan.”

  “All right, I’m going to have to stop you there,” Maddox said. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned the Yon Soth, its machine and hallucination rays. How did you learn about Batrun and the Old One?”

  Ural made an offhanded gesture. “Do you remember when I told you that the Throne World has the best intelligence service?”

  “How could I forget? You mention it every ten minutes.”

  “My knowledge is yet another indicator of this truth,” Ural said.

  “Fine, fine, fine,” Maddox said. “Fletcher killed the Yon Soth when the Grand Fleet defeated the Spacers and bombarded the Forbidden Planet with hell-burners and asteroids.”

  “I’m well aware of that, of course,” Ural said. “If you’ll recall, Batrun told you that before the Yon Soth died under the Grand Fleet’s planetary bombardment, it sent out bizarre waves. We know those waves awakened and compelled various creatures to attack humanity. We think the Liss were among those.”

  “And you’ve said that Lisa Meyers is another.”

  “I’m inclined to think so, now more than ever. I suspect you will be, too, after reading what she’s written.”

  Maddox pointed at the reader.

  “Exactly,” Ural said.

  “Should I take the reader with me or read it here?”

  “I cannot allow you to take the reader for reasons I won’t address.”

  “May I then?” asked Maddox, indicating the device.

  Ural pulled a long-legged stool to him, sitting on it. “Please, be my guest.”

  Maddox picked up
the reader, sat on his own stool, put his elbows on the high round table and began to read.

  ***

  From My Manifesto, Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers:

  Humanity as a collective whole has no idea of the nature of its monstrous crime, its heinous act of procreative aggression. As a vast herd, humans are too dull, too bovine in their instincts so see further than the dinner plate or a meter beyond their pecker. They consume, fornicate and exude spawn at a prodigious rate, filling their worlds with ignorant spratlings. They fart, belch, drool and spew hollow words of vanity, boasting of deeds that would cause a donkey to blush for shame. Yet, that is not mankind’s grossest crime.

  Listen closely and see if you can comprehend the grand mystery. During my deepest studies, I discovered that there is an essence of life in the universe: a force, a drive, an engine that propels a race to achieve—in whatever manner they are capable of doing. This force is a hidden property, but it is there, I assure you. And the secret of the cosmos is that only one species in a region can claim the semi-divine spark as their own. In doing so, they starve all others in that region of the wonderful and sublime catalyst.

  Do you finally begin to comprehend my point? Isn’t it obvious? For reasons I cannot fathom, numbers have a higher claim on the life catalyst than genius, virtuosity or brilliance. In this instance, mass is more powerful than lonely talent. It is as if a million morons braying for their team have more claim upon existence than a single beautiful opera singer of exquisite skill and training.

  Here, then, is humanity’s vile crime. They exploded onto the Builders’ sphere of inhabitation. Even more obscene, the gracefully Serene Ones aided mankind and watched them seed world after world, flooding the star systems with their bawling broods. As humanity’s reach bloated outward, they began to drain the life force from the far fewer Builders. As the life force drained from them, the Wonderful Ones became lax and indifferent to their sad fate. At last, the dwindling Builders departed or died, leaving their former region to the crass trillions of belching, bellowing humans.

  Yet, fate intervened, as I awoke from my long slumber. Appalled at what I found, I analyzed the situation carefully, discovered the secret truth of life and concluded the obvious solution. Dare I say it? The plan I evolved was as brilliant and as simple as sin.