“Eh?”
“Shut up,” Maddox said.
“Shut up, he says. To me, the author of our hopes and dreams. Why you young whippersnapper of a prig, I have a mind to—”
“Professor, please,” Meta said. “You’re tired, maybe irritable. My husband has his reasons for his silence on certain questions.”
“Oh…yes…I’d almost forgotten,” Ludendorff said. “I’m going to close my eyes for a few minutes. Tell me if we’re about to land.” With that, Ludendorff settled down in his seat, his helmet lowering forward.
Meta reached out and put a gloved hand on Maddox’s forearm. He glanced at her. Then, he concentrated on flying. She went back to studying her sensor board.
The ring grew. It showed a vast metal construct with great bulky rims in places. The diameter was fifteen hundred kilometers. There were pitted areas and scorched places as if from beam fire. The width of the inner metal was nearly a kilometer long.
“The ring is deceptive,” Meta said. “It’s so huge, gargantuan.”
“Built to scale with the planet,” Maddox said.
“I’m in awe of it. The thing is ancient, and built by a genius race to help save the galaxy from the Nameless Ones. I can almost begin to sense how Lisa Meyers feels about the Builders.”
Maddox grunted noncommittally. He noticed motion upon the ring, and his heart went cold. “Meta,” he said.
Her helmet whipped around.
“See those?” Maddox said, pointing through the polarized window.
Meta leaned forward, and she gasped. “Cannons,” she said. “They’re moving, searching, it seems. Do they sense us?”
Maddox did not answer. The shuttle was within five hundred kilometers of the ring. The cannons swiveled, aimed a moment at the shuttle, and then continued to move as if the shuttle did not match whatever configuration it needed for firing.
“The computer, or whatever runs the auto-defenses, must sense us,” Maddox said. “But maybe we’re small enough. The Hormagaunt told me to pick the smallest shuttle possible. Perhaps this was the reason why.”
“I’m frightened,” Meta said.
“Good. That will help keep you alert.”
“Aren’t you frightened?”
Maddox did not reply.
“Are you searching for a place to land?” Meta asked.
“That I am.”
She went back to studying her sensor panel.
The shuttle continued closing. Maddox stared at the ring in awe. His wife was right. This was an ancient marvel, a thing like no other. It could accelerate rocks and debris at planets and smash them to bits. It would be a shame to destroy such a construct. Star Watch might well have need of such a device in the future.
“I see something,” Meta said. “It’s a thousand kilometers up on the left side.”
Maddox got up and looked at her sensor screen. He went back to his seat and began course corrections.
“We’re going to do this,” he said.
“I hope you’re right, my love, I dearly do.”
-56-
Dag raised his hand. The company halted in a great, lit subterranean corridor. Men rolled the three flamers forward. They were bulky but portable plasma cannons. Between the cannons knelt Merovingians, aiming their fire-lances.
Green cloudy wisps floated toward them.
“Gas,” Rock whispered.
“Put on your EVA helmets,” Dag said.
Merovingians donned the final piece of their EVA gear. Some time ago, Dag had given the order that each warrior put on his protective equipment, as he’d anticipated something like this.
More green-colored gas floated through the corridor toward them. It was a sickly hue and might have knocked out the entire company, or possibly killed them, without their EVA gear.
Screeches of a hideous nature sounded from behind the gas. Then, in a rush, she-zombies bounded at the Merovingians. The creatures rushed through the green gas, unaffected by it. These cyborg creatures sprouted steel-tipped claws in their fingers and toes. They moved with fantastic jerks and leaps.
Dag chopped his right arm down.
The flamers belched heated plasma. The fire-lances licked with flames. The zombie-cyborg monstrosities leapt over orange roiling clots of plasma—well, most did. Those that failed to launch airborne in time burned repulsively, throwing off a wretched stench until the steel in their bodies glowed red-hot and began to melt like wax.
This time, the fire-lances aimed higher, where Dag had anticipated the she-cyborgs would be. The fire burned and scorched the enemy, but too many of them catapulted through the flames nevertheless.
Blaster fire met the cyborg-zombies, gouging out flesh and synthetic material. The blaster fire was withering and accurate, and targeted heads, rending many of the cyborg-things useless.
Six out of thirty-seven made it through the wall of plasma, fire and blaster shots. Merovingians slashed and stabbed with battle knives. The skeletal things clawed like berserk cats. They slew six Merovingians and wounded a dozen more before combat blades and blasters hacked and shot them to pieces.
Dag reformed the lines and waited. When nothing more happened, he glanced at Rock.
“The scanner is showing clear up ahead,” Rock said.
Dag motioned the company forward. They marched, soon leaving behind the corpses and drifting gas.
“Show me the corridors that lead to the control room,” Dag told Rock.
The pilot pulled out a large blueprint-like map. Dag studied the corridors once again. How many men did Surbus have in the control room? Did they want to die? Would they fight to the death?
“Can you contact them?” Dag asked Rock.
“Champion,” Rock said, “Surbus wants to speak to you.” He offered the hand-scanner/communicator to the Champion.
Dag hesitated before taking it, speaking to Surbus, “The gas and cyborgs failed, but I suppose you know that. Why else are you calling me again?”
“Okay, I admit, Meyers sent her elite,” Surbus said. “But you surely must realize I can blow everything to Hell down here.”
“Killing those in the control room as well?”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I’ll always come back for them. No, the explosions will bury your men under tons of planetary rubble. Is that what you want?”
“The Queen knows what you have in way of defenses,” Dag said. “We’re prepared for anything you can throw at us. Surrender, and it will go easier with you.”
“A bald lie,” Surbus said.
“It’s your funeral.”
Surbus stared at him through the small screen. “Listen, we can team up. You’re good, really good. I could use you on my side.”
“Surrender,” Dag said.
“Or we could split the command. You keep your men. I keep mine. We work together—”
On the tiny screen, Surbus whirled around. Someone else came into view, a tall woman with red hair. Surbus seemed as if he would shout at her. She thrust something at him. Surbus groaned as he clawed out a blaster. The red-haired woman yanked a thing out of him, and jabbed a long thin stiletto up under his chin. No doubt, the steel licked his brain. Surbus groaned and sank as he clawed at her for purchase, his blaster falling to the floor.
The red-haired woman snatched Surbus’s communicator as she shoved him down to the deck. She had harsh features and pitiless eyes.
“Are you Dag?” she asked in a loud voice.
“I am. Who are you?”
“Call me Helga. Surbus made one mistake too many, and he would have taken all of us down with him. The game’s up for independence. Will the Queen remember that I struck Surbus down in her name?”
“She will,” Dag said, “because I’ll tell her. You must call those in the control room, and you must give me access to the Koniggratz.”
“Done,” Helga said. “You promise I’ll live for what I’ve done, you’ll take an oath on it?”
“I so swear,” Dag said. “You made the right choice.�
�
Helga laughed harshly. “We’re almost out of people—you’ll learn that soon enough. The cyborg-things, they were our last hope. You beat them, and the gas.”
“Just a moment,” Dag said. He lowered the device, putting a hand over the microphone. “Should I call the Queen and tell her it’s safe to enter the null region?”
Rock chewed on his lower lip. “Speed might be critical in bringing the Queen here, but being right about things is more important. I would make sure I have the control room first before I called the Queen.”
Dag nodded sharply. Could this be a trap, a fake-out on Helga and Surbus’s part? He raised the device, staring at Helga, catching fear in her eyes before she hooded it.
“Tell those in the control room to open up for us,” Dag said. “Then, meet us there.”
“What about the Koniggratz?”
“Don’t worry about it for now,” Dag said. “Is anyone from your team aboard it?”
“Hell, no,” Helga said. “We only board when we’re going to leave, and then we have to go fast. Surbus spent too much time taking potshots at Maddox. We nearly all collapsed from being out there too long.”
“Surbus said he killed Maddox.”
“Surbus lied. That was what he did best.”
“Maddox is alive?”
“Most likely,” Helga said.
Dag snarled. “Make your call to the control room. Then hustle your butt here. Do you copy?”
“I’ll make the call as soon as I quit talking to you,” Helga said. “Remember, I’m making all this possible for you.”
“I swore an oath. I’ll remember. Even more important, the Queen will reward you richly.”
“Not as much as Surbus was going to collect. But what good is wealth if we’re dead?”
“Make the call, and call me as soon as you’re finished,” Dag said, clicking off the connection. He handed the device to Rock.
“Can we have really won?” Rock asked.
“Not yet,” Dag said. He shouted at the men, and they began to run in earnest for the subterranean control room.
-57-
The shuttle eased upward along the great curving inner edge of the Ring Accelerator. None of the swiveling, searching cannons had fired at the scout vessel. It would seem that it was small enough to pass unmolested near the ancient artifact.
Maddox approached what looked like hangar-bay doors. They were shut, however, and looked as if they had remained shut for thousands of years.
“Professor,” Maddox said. “Wake up, old man. It’s almost time.”
Through the helmet comm, Maddox could hear the Methuselah Man smack his lips and yawn.
“Did you say something?” Ludendorff asked.
“Open your eyes. Sit up. We’re here.”
Slowly, Ludendorff sat up, his visor staring through the polarized window. “Hell’s bells, boy. You did it. This is a marvel, a marvel indeed. Look at the craftsmanship. Look at the beauty of the ring.”
It was a bright silver, and in most places as smooth as newly blown glass. There were pitted spots, and in places an ugly deep-red rust. Otherwise, it showed a great technological item of gargantuan size, possibly as good as on the day the Builders had installed it in the mobile null region.
“It’s huge,” Ludendorff declared. “Imagine, the Builders used this against the Nameless Ones. I have goosebumps. We’re standing in a place of stellar history.”
“That’s wonderful,” Maddox said. “Can you get us inside?”
Ludendorff exhaled, and he sat up straighter yet. “We’ll probably have to go outside the shuttle, maybe use thruster-packs. It will be harder if we keep on our photon suits.”
“Without the photon suits, we’d never make it.”
“You might, my boy.”
“I’m not going to try without the photon suit,” Maddox said.
“Yes. You’re right this time. Well then, get us as close as you can. Maybe if I can see some Builder script, I’ll know better what to do.”
Maddox did just that, bringing the shuttle closer, closer, and then slowing the velocity until they were crawling.
Ludendorff sat hunched over his sensors. “I remember something, a warning. If we attempt to open the doors, and we do it wrong, that could allow the computers or the ring AI to detect and destroy us.”
“One attempt then,” Maddox said. “Let’s get it right the first time.”
Ludendorff grunted.
At last, Maddox parked the shuttle so the nosecone was a mere few meters from the closed hangar-bay doors.
Ludendorff studied his sensor board. He grumbled under his breath, swore several quiet curses and then mumbled something about the end of days.
Maddox had risen from his seat and stood as close to the polarized window as he could. He put his gloved hands on the rim, leaning forward, studying the bay door.
“I have an idea,” Ludendorff said. “Are you game?”
“Yes,” Maddox said, without turning around. “What should I do?”
“I’m doing it right now,” Ludendorff said.
Maddox turned, to find the professor at the small comm board. The Methuselah Man had taken off the photon-suit gloves. His old fingers manipulated a keypad.
“It’s glowing,” Meta shouted.
Ludendorff looked up, and he swore a quit curse.
Maddox leaned forward even more, seeing if he could spot a cannon.
“Ah,” Ludendorff said. “Now, I remember.” His fingers typed upon the keyboard.
“The glow is lessening,” Meta said.
At that point, the ancient bay door began to move…upward. It continued moving until it revealed a great hangar bay within.
Maddox went to the flight panel. “Is it safe to go in?”
“Only one way to find out, my boy,” Ludendorff said.
Maddox grunted and gently caused the shuttle to inch forward. Ancient curving script was written along the inner hangar walls.
“Can you decipher that?” Meta asked.
Ludendorff shook his helmet.
“It’s not Builder script?” Meta asked.
“I’m confounded, but it’s not,” Ludendorff said. “That doesn’t make sense, unless… No, I have no idea. It seems similar to Type C Builder script, but similar isn’t giving me the meaning. Maybe my photon suit isn’t working as well as it should.”
“Put your gloves back on,” Meta suggested.
“Oh, yes, good thinking, my dear.” Ludendorff retrieved and reattached the gloves to his photon suit.
Maddox flipped a switch, turning on outer shuttle lamps in order to better illuminate the hangar bay. There was a small pod on the floor, and bigger outlines for what must have been bigger craft, but that was the extent of it. There were no machines, no cords, no nothing in the great hangar bay—twice the size of one on Victory—in here. In the back, however, there were outlines of hatches, huge hatches.
“Maddox!” Meta shouted. “The door is closing.”
Maddox glanced at Ludendorff.
“Must be an automatic thing,” Ludendorff said.
“We can always try to blast our way out if we have to,” Maddox said. “But let’s touch down.”
“And go outside?” Meta said.
“It’s why we’re here,” Maddox said. “Look. We’ve been in ancient Builder artifacts before, the pyramids in particular. Ludendorff is a genius on the topic. This should be a cinch.”
“The strange script worries me,” Ludendorff said.
“Sure,” Maddox said. “It’s always something. Now let me concentrate. I want to make a perfect landing.”
The shuttle eased over an outline on the deck and just as gently settled onto the location. There was hardly a jar, but Keith could have done it better.
Maddox began shutting down the thruster and engine, and the normal thrum no longer penetrated the tiny craft.
“Feels weird being here,” Meta said.
“Any suggestions on what we should do next, my
boy?” asked Ludendorff.
“Are you ready to go outside?” Maddox asked.
“I’m beat, if you must know. I’d like to sleep for a week. But you’re going to slave-drive me anyway.” Ludendorff made a show of climbing to his feet and swaying in place.
“Meta, you help the professor. I don’t want to lose this contest because he falls behind.”
“We’re all leaving the shuttle?” she asked.
Maddox snorted. “If there’s something here to fight us, we’ve probably already lost. This is about figuring out how this thing works. There’s only one man for the job. Do you have any stims handy?”
“Not on your life,” Ludendorff said. “My mind is my prize. I certainly don’t tamper with it by ingesting drugs. That would be madness.”
“Right,” Maddox said, as he stood up. He went to a locker and selected a blast rifle, slinging the carrying strap over a shoulder.
“I thought you said we’ll have lost already if we have to fight here,” Ludendorff said.
“Probably true,” Maddox said, “but let’s not make it too easy on anyone. Ready, Meta?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Come on, Professor, it’s time to earn your keep.”
With that, the three of them headed for the exit.
-58-
Dag was worried even though everything seemed to have fallen into place. He couldn’t say that the insertion had been too easy. He’d already lost well over his half his company. Most of the losses had come during the descent onto the planet, but the vile she-zombies had been a nasty surprise that had slain too many of those left.
They were in the control chamber, which consisted of many rooms. Surbus’s people were detained in a corner of the largest room, one without any controls. He’d had his men frisk everyone and then made the people sit on the floor. There were twenty-three of them, about half of them women. None of them looked like fighters, but appeared to be techs and mechanics.
Helga was coming. He’d told her to bring Surbus’s corpse. Dag wanted to make sure the renegade was dead and not pulling a fast one.
Rock and the other pod-pilots were in the main control chamber, a large place with hard-to-understand controls. The chief of Surbus’s remaining people had offered to explain how the controls worked. Dag wasn’t ready for that yet.
The Lost Tech Page 30