The Lost Tech

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The Lost Tech Page 18

by Vaughn Heppner


  “You think Meyers planted Guderian in the pod for us to find?” Maddox asked.

  “Or allowed her to escape. I think it’s a possibility, yes.”

  “For what possible reason?”

  “Obviously, to throw us onto a false trail,” Ludendorff said.

  “Sir,” Valerie said. “From what we know, Commander Guderian’s story checks out. It also fits the facts. The idea Meyers planted Guderian seems ridiculous to me. To be blunt, sir, the professor might be playing games with us. He’s certainly done it before.”

  A faint smile spread onto Maddox’s face.

  “You think I’m wrong, sir?” Valerie asked.

  “No,” Maddox said. “You’re right. Ludendorff has ‘played games’ before, and he might be doing it now.”

  “Here now,” Ludendorff said, standing. “If you don’t want my advice, I can leave.”

  “Sit down,” Maddox said.

  Ludendorff did not but pushed his chair back.

  “Sit, Professor,” Maddox said, his voice firming.

  “Or what?” Ludendorff asked.

  “Professor,” Meta chided, “you can’t possibly be angry with us for being suspicious of you. It’s a natural reaction. You repeatedly bring it on yourself. Please, why don’t you sit down so we can continue? Matters are too important for us to quarrel unnecessarily.”

  Ludendorff stared at Meta, nodded and sat abruptly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He sighed, facing the captain. “I know you’ve vetted all your people. It’s just—” Ludendorff shook his head. “Confound it, my boy, I don’t like where this is leading.”

  “And where is that?” asked Maddox.

  Ludendorff’s nostrils flared as he stared at the table. It seemed as if he were peering through the wooden top into some distant place. His features became slack, and his shoulders slumped. He breathed in and out slowly a few times before whispering, “Eureka,” as his gaze refocused, and he looked up at the others before centering on the captain. “I can’t believe it, my boy. Do you remember how I said there was a tickle of an ancient memory in my subconscious?”

  “Of course,” Maddox said.

  “It has suddenly blossomed, no doubt because of the commander’s tale. I would need to verify a few more facts to be one hundred percent certain, but I think I know what happened—and I no longer contend that Meyers planted the commander in the pod.”

  Maddox waited for the revelation.

  “It is my new belief that Commander Guderian witnessed a null region in operation,” Ludendorff declared.

  Maddox raised his eyebrows. “Null region? Like the one we entered holding captured Destroyers?”

  “Not the same one, of course,” Ludendorff said, “but otherwise, yes.”

  “But…a null region…” Maddox grew thoughtful. “I see where you’re going with this. A null region is another dimension, a pocket universe, in theory.”

  “That is correct,” Ludendorff said.

  “Okay, one part of that makes sense. But how would a null region swallowing and spitting an asteroid cause the object to travel at twenty-five percent light-speed?”

  “That I don’t know.”

  “Is the null region still here?”

  Ludendorff’s head jerked back. “What an odd question. A null region is other, a different place. By definition, it cannot be here.”

  “Don’t be obtuse, Professor. Guderian told us she saw wavering energy and detected it on her sensor. After that, a battleship slid out of normal time and space and into another place. That place also ejected asteroids, using a similar energy signature. That means in same way a null region lies beside normal space, able to do these things in the 82 G. Eridani System and not in another.”

  “In a crude manner of speaking, I suppose you’re correct.”

  “Crude or otherwise,” Maddox said, “is the null region still here or still connected to this particular star system?”

  Instead of answering, Ludendorff bent his head, putting his hands on the edge of the table and groaning.

  “Professor,” Galyan said. “What is causing your discomfort?”

  Ludendorff pushed upward, exhaling as he eyed the others. “I’m saddened by the understanding that I finally see that Meyers’ manifesto speaks truly concerning her desires.”

  “Manifesto?” asked Valerie.

  Ludendorff glanced at Maddox. “You didn’t tell them?”

  “Why don’t you go ahead,” Maddox said, “as now is as good a time as any.”

  “As you wish.” Ludendorff cleared his throat, straightening as he said, “Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers desires to destroy all human life in order that the essence aiding humanity will wither away. She believes in a life force that powers a successful civilization.”

  “I don’t understand,” Valerie said.

  “Hmm…” Ludendorff said. “How can I put this? Ah. Only one race can use this mythical life force in a given region, according to Meyers’ thinking, anyway. If we humans vanish—for whatever reason—Meyers believes that she can reintroduce the Builders, and they will thrive as the waiting life force fills them with desire to live and achieve. Their rebirth will then bring an age of renewed Builder glory to this region of space.”

  “That’s madness,” Valerie said. “And you’re sad that Meyers is crazy?”

  “I am, I am,” Ludendorff said. “But that wasn’t my precise meaning. I’m sad Meyers is using Builder technology toward such a nefarious end. Genocide is the opposite of Builder thinking.”

  “The null regions are Builder designed?” Valerie asked.

  “Come now, Lieutenant,” Ludendorff said, “you should already know that from some of our previous missions.”

  “You never told us the Builders designed the null regions,” Valerie said, “just that they used them.”

  “Didn’t I?” asked Ludendorff. “I’m certain I did. Whatever the case, the Builders long ago constructed the null regions to hold Destroyers and other wondrous prizes and sometimes strange denizens as we discovered to our peril when we faced a Ska.”

  “I remember that part only too well,” Valerie said.

  “There’s something different about this null region, isn’t there?” Maddox asked.

  “Yes,” Ludendorff said. “This one is mobile.”

  “Mobile how?” asked Maddox.

  Ludendorff looked up at the ceiling before answering. “You were correct earlier in your brutish assessment that the null regions are pressed against the underside of our reality or dimension, or normal space. This one can maneuver and—” Ludendorff blinked, blinked again and then stared off into space.

  “Professor?” Maddox asked.

  The Methuselah Man did not respond.

  After glancing at the others—Valerie shrugged—Maddox rose, coming around the table. With his left index finger, he gently pushed the professor’s shoulder.

  Nothing happened.

  Maddox leaned near and whispered in his ear, “Professor, can you hear me?”

  Still, nothing happened.

  Maddox frowned, and on impulse, he took the little finger of his left hand, stuck it in the professor’s ear and wriggled the fingertip.

  Ludendorff’s head jerked and the Methuselah Man swiveled around. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Seeing what’s wrong with you,” Maddox said, unabashed.

  “I’m—”

  “I believe the term is, you spaced out, Professor,” Galyan said, interrupting.

  Ludendorff turned toward the holoimage.

  “Zoned out would also be an acceptable phrase,” Galyan said.

  “Goodness gracious,” Ludendorff said in awe. “I remember, or I’m starting to remember.”

  Maddox returned to the head of the table, sitting down.

  “It’s an old, old story,” Ludendorff said quietly. “The tale is from the time of the terrible war between the Builders and the Nameless Ones. They came with their Destroyers, and in places, they conqu
ered star systems. In some of those systems, they installed factories to build more of their annihilating machines. The Builders decided to attack those planets, losing hundreds of ships in the process. Finally, they used a mobile null region to make the assault.”

  “How does one control a mobile null region?” Maddox asked.

  “Indeed,” Ludendorff said, sucking on his lower lip. “That’s an excellent question along with how does the null region accelerate huge asteroids to such speeds. I don’t know. Obviously, there is detailed information somewhere, a library of sorts. Perhaps we should search for the library so we can proceed with knowledge.”

  “It would help if we knew where to look,” Maddox said. “We don’t have time to just scour willy-nilly for your library.”

  “Sir,” Galyan said. “If the professor is correct, then Meyers or one of her representatives has taken control of the mobile null region. It is conceivable they practiced in this star system to perfect their method. Given Meyers’ stated goal, it is logical the next asteroid attack would take place in the Solar System in order to smash the Commonwealth’s unifying center, Earth.”

  “Agreed,” said Maddox. “Professor, how fast does a mobile null region travel?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “All right, it’s time to get serious. Where could we find out? Where is this library?”

  “I would love to tell you, believe me, I would,” Ludendorff said. “But my mind is blank concerning such a library. However, much of that will be moot. If you’ll recall, last time we headed for a null region, I fabricated special photon suits for you to operate there. Even so, you did not operate at one hundred percent efficiency.”

  “Professor,” Galyan said. “You alone did not fabricate the suits. Dana, Andros and you made them. I remember you praising Andros, how his practicality of mind made the suits a possibility.”

  “Yes, yes,” Ludendorff said. “The three of us fabricated them. Why must you be so pedantic?”

  “Truth and precision are pedantic?” Galyan asked.

  “No,” Maddox said.

  “Thank you, sir,” Galyan said. “I would also like to point out that it was not the null region itself that caused the lack of efficiency concerning the photon suits, but the terror-inducing Ska that inhabited that particular null region. Those wearing the suits had swallowed ‘happy pills’ against the Ska’s debilitating effects. That is what caused the lack of efficiency.”

  “Good point, Galyan,” Maddox said. “Meyers might have learned about our photon suits or developed another method for her people working in the null region.”

  “Undoubtedly true,” Ludendorff said, “but that doesn’t help us.”

  Maddox considered the problem until he stood abruptly. “I have to call the Lord High Admiral and explain the dilemma. In the meantime, Professor, I wish you’d figure out a way to remember more about this mobile null region.”

  Ludendorff nodded sagely. “In the end, it’s always up to the scientist. In the most important cases, that means me. I will forge ahead, Captain. You can be sure of that.”

  “Wonderful. It cheers me no end to hear you say that. Andros, Galyan, see if you can come up with anything. And now—I’m off.” Maddox headed for the exit.

  -31-

  As the Queen’s flotilla continued its journey, Dag the Champion trained with the Merovingians, turning them into his warriors. It was slow and steady work, hidden in ways so the Queen wouldn’t become suspicious of what he attempted. They didn’t only train with old-fashioned knives and lances, but modern combat weapons as well.

  The days merged in hard but productive exercises, leaving many of the Merovingians with broken bones or bruises. Tobias had rejoined them, having recovered from his thrashing in the hangar bay. He was much quieter, polite when Dag was around, but the Champion could feel the other watching him and waiting for an opportunity. Dag would never give Tobias that chance, but remained ready to kill him if he must.

  Finally, the Queen summoned Dag to a special meeting. He was to come alone, without any of his lieutenants.

  Dag wore Merovingian armor as befitted a war-captain seeing his Queen, but he left his ceremonial weapons behind. Dag found himself flanked by hard-eyed soldiers with drawn blasters. They marched him down the hauler’s corridors, small men, smaller than he, anyway. Without their blasters, he could have defeated the six of them, knocking their heads together as if they were clowns. They were almost beneath his notice. Still, why did the Queen see fit to have these weaklings escort him? After several corridor turns, he decided it didn’t matter.

  Soon enough, the last hatch lifted. Dag ducked his head and entered a luxurious room containing large pink pillows, sheer curtains and lace-lined cushions. In the rear of the perfumed chamber, the Queen sat on a golden throne, which was perched on a dais.

  The six blaster-armed soldiers fanned out, taking up station at the front of the chamber near the bulkheads. They kept their eyes on Dag as he approached the throne.

  The Queen looked as radiant as ever. She wore finery that exposed her cleavage and allowed Dag to see her smooth limbs and long legs. She wore a diadem of diamonds that glittered with the chamber’s light. In her right hand, she held a scepter topped with a large ruby. There was a switch near her fingers. Perhaps the scepter could double as a weapon.

  Dag removed his helmet and bent on one knee, bowing before her. “My Queen, I have come.” He waited, feeling her scrutiny, wondering if he had erred somehow.

  “Stand, Champion,” she said.

  He stood to his great height, with the helmet tucked in the crook of his right arm.

  She let her gaze rove over him, and for the first time Dag became uncomfortable, and he could not say why. He felt the power of her intellect and personality. It was like heat from a star. He felt something else, too, something unbounded and ferocious. It was there in her eyes, swirling…

  Dag shifted uncomfortably.

  “I have raised you from the depths of weakness,” she proclaimed. “Once, you were a banker in a coin house. You worried about profits, about margins and percentages. It was a poor life, with nothing heroic to cherish, to stir the heart.”

  Dag dipped his head in acknowledgement. He had faint memories of that time, but they were like wisps, phantasms of the mind.

  “I have given you a mighty body and turned your mind into a weapon. The spirit belongs to you, and with that, I am pleased.”

  Once more, Dag dipped his head.

  “To achieve these things cost you in agony and worry,” she added.

  He grunted agreement, not wanting to remember the ordeal.

  “Now, I am about to unleash you upon a universe. You will have a great task to perform. If you fail, you will have failed me and yourself in your grand design.”

  He waited, wondering what in the hell she was talking about.

  “You have a single, possibly fatal flaw,” she said. “Do you know what it is?”

  He shook his head.

  She leaned back against her throne, studying him. “I think you do.”

  Once more, he went down onto one knee and dipped his head. “Please instruct me, O Queen.”

  “You have gained intellect,” she said. “With that, naturally, arises ambition. Some ambition is good and even noble. Too much, though, is traitorous.”

  Dag looked up, and he found her gaze intense and actually frightening. He grew aware of the soldiers behind him, men with blasters. He hardened his resolve. If he died—he died.

  “Dag, Dag, Dag,” she said. “You are disappointing me. Do you know that I could reverse the process and leave you as the imbecilic Dagobert Dan?”

  His mouth turned dry. She’d actually found a way to cause him to fear, genuine fear. “How have I offended you, Majesty?”

  “You are attempting to usurp the loyalty of the Merovingians,” she said softly. “You wish them to look to you first, before me.”

  His mouth turned drier. He debated lying about that, but it was benea
th him. He was a warrior, the champion. It was best to go to death with his head held high. “Yes,” he heard himself say. “It is true. I have sinned against your Majesty. I beg your forgiveness.”

  She stared at him in silence.

  He waited.

  “My dear Dag…” she said, “you surprise me. What is more, you have just escaped a horrible punishment. That you could admit it…I may still use you. You can still redeem yourself in my eyes.”

  “Instruct me,” he said.

  She leveled the scepter, aiming the ruby from one side of him to another. “You may leave,” she said.

  Dag almost rose. Then, he heard the six soldiers filing out of the chamber. The hatch slid shut behind them.

  “They would have destroyed your arms and legs,” she said. “I would have had the doctors graft you new ones. By that time, you would have been Dagobert Dan again.”

  He waited with his head bowed, tightening his muscles so he did not tremble.

  “Look at me,” she said.

  He did, and gasped.

  She sat regally upon the throne. Yet, in some manner, she had become a sex goddess as well. The curvature of her body, the luster of her eyes and the wondrous length of her hair…if he could have her—he would do anything to have her, to lay with her.

  She laughed with sultry intoxicating power. “Dag the Champion, you know how to desire a woman, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said thickly.

  “You want me, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am Lisa Meyers. I am the Methuselah Woman. I am the greatest mortal of this pathetic race of humanity. The Builders granted me more than they did any of the other Methuselah People. I used to wonder why this was so. Now, I know. It is because…” She laughed at him as if he were less, as if he were too stupid to understand her glory, and perhaps he was.

  She raised the scepter. The ruby glowed, and it felt as if cold water poured over his head. He gasped, and the overwhelming lust to have her fled from him. It left him…depleted and unhappy, as if he had left the presence of the goddess of rutting and physical gratification.

  “Perhaps after we are done here…” she said. “Then, I will show you delight that you could not have dreamed possible. If I do that, however, you will never know sexual satisfaction with any other female. Think carefully before you answer. Know me tonight, Dag, and I will fulfill you to the utmost. Know me tonight and other women will pale in comparison, and you will grovel in my presence in order to know such fulfillment again.”

 

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