The astrophysicist’s association decided they didn’t care what the chicken or egg groups thought, they appropriated the formula E=MC2, and began to wear completely plasticized garments to their conventions to protect themselves from the eggers. Over time the eggers began to wear out and the frequency of their egg barrages diminished considerably, which resulted in the astrophysicists wearing fewer and smaller plasticized garments.
Ultimately, the eggers quit pelting the astrophysicists altogether, and that led to the astrophysicists reducing their plasticized garments to a small piece of plastic worn inside their front shirt pockets. It was a token of their victory, an amulet against eggers, and a secret sign to other astrophysicists. It also kept their ink pens from dribbling down the front of their white, short sleeve shirts.
Too bad about M=E/C2. The deep thinkers were so close, but no one figures it out on their own. There is no closet.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BREAKING AND ENTERING
Everyone knew that when Joules cranked up her energy field it would leave blinding white images in their eyes for several minutes if you looked at it too long; everyone except Dex, Guzzle and Joe. Those three were still blinking their eyes trying to recover from looking at the white-hot spectacle of a gyrating force field around Joules and an energy beam blazing in the air. Nita and the rest of the group waited for them to recover and hoped they had understood Dex correctly, that he knew where the warehouse was located. If that were true it would be a game changer.
They wouldn’t have to reconnoiter an unknown population of conspiracy theorists. and they could expedite their plan, not to mention lessen the risk of someone figuring out why they were on Numaria. Anonoi was right; it’s not the sort of place you come to on vacation, so people were bound to be suspicious and start asking questions.
“You’ll be blind for a few minutes,” said Blackie, “but it will clear up shortly. When Joules is full on it’s best not to look directly at the energy, that’s like looking at a welder or cutting torch without a safety visor. Sorry, I probably should have warned you about that.”
“No problem,” replied Dex, “I should have known better, but I was so mesmerized I couldn’t look away.”
“That’s the exact affect Joules has on Blackie,” laughed Mark, who quickly scrambled out of reach.
Ignoring Mark, Blackie asked the question the group was desperate to verify, “Did you say you know where the warehouse is located?”
“I have directions from Donnally,” said Dex, blinking and shaking his head. “We thought it best that I not have a physical map in case my things were searched or stolen, so I memorized how to find it.” He blinked again and noticed Guzzle and Joe shaking their heads trying to clear their vision. “I can show you where it is if you have a pen and paper.”
“Will these do?” asked Blackie who retrieved the Quidlid notepad and hotel pen from the kitchen counter.
Dex took them and tore several sheets of paper off the pad and laid them side by side on the coffee table. His vision was now clear and he drew a small map across four squares of paper. It was crude but all the essential elements for finding the warehouse were included.
“Just there,” commented Mark pointing to the map, “what is that exactly?”
“That’s a power station,” replied Dex, “it’s located about halfway from downtown. The station is not very big but it should be easy to find. There should be towers if the transmission lines are overhead. If they’re below ground we should find the cleared right-of-ways, and those are high voltage lines; either way there should be plenty of 'Call Before You Dig' warning signs. Just as he finished a small device clipped to his belt began a high-pitched squeal. Dex unclipped the device that was about two centimeters square. He popped the front up and exposed a tiny pad and two buttons, one red and one green.
“What is that?” asked Nita, who had been looking over Dex’s shoulder while he drew the map.
“It’s a transponder,” replied Dex. “Arton’s fighter pilot programmed the fighter com to automatically ping me as long as we are on Numaria. I use this pad to scan my fingerprint then hit the red or green button indicating if we are ready to be picked up; red for no and green for yes.”
He quickly did the fingerprint scan and hit the red button then reached in his bag and pulled out an identical device. “If I don’t respond within the allotted time my transponder will signal out, and all pings from the fighter will target this backup transponder. If something happens to me, or I have to destroy the transponder, the team can still be picked up. Before we begin our assault, I’ll activate this and each of you can enter a scan. It will recognize up to eight prints.”
“It won’t come online unless my transponder doesn’t link with the ship but once it comes online you can signal for a pickup at any time by scanning your print and pushing the green button – you don’t have to wait to be pinged. If you are caught and forced to disclose the transponder code, 281, give it backwards. Once it is entered backwards and either button is hit the transponder acts like a beacon and the cavalry will show up.
“That’s good to know, but I hope we won’t need them,” replied Nita.
“Me, too. Those ten guys on that fighter are capable of making a really big mess and if a 182 code comes in, they will. That’s their job; destroy and rescue. Centorians are mostly an easy-going people, like mild-mannered poets, but we’re a very serious lot when we’re on a mission. It can be a bit scary for bystanders.”
“I can assure you of one thing, Dex, if it comes to a scuffle in that warehouse there won’t be any bystanders in our group. We’ve already been through quite a bit just getting here and we won’t be stepping aside for someone else. You know my background, so you know I’ve been trained; my Uncle Jimm saw to that. And the rest of the group have some unique skills of their own.”
“You’ve already seen what Joules can do. I witnessed one of our guys wield a machete like it was a Kitan, and initiate a strike so hard it would have cleaved a thug’s head into two pieces had he not stopped it a hair’s breadth from the guy’s forehead. I saw another hit a Shumbran so hard it knocked them halfway across a museum rotunda, and I watched another one on Gavalkia put a Centorian on the ground with a jump kick that could crush a man’s chest.”
“Amelia has just started training, but she is incredibly brilliant; every assault group needs a brainiac, she is ours. If it comes to trouble these guys won’t be bystanders. You may have to call your ten Centorians and tell them to bring some brooms and a dust pan.”
“Look Nita, I didn’t mean to offend you, I….”
“Thanks, and no offense taken. I just thought you should know if we end up in a fight, these guys won’t back down.”
Everyone had been quietly listening to the exchange between Nita and Dex. Joe and Guzzle were looking around the room trying to size up everyone, hoping to figure out who could do what. Neither Joe nor Guzzle were much help in a fight, so hearing that Dex had some seasoned backup in the event things got physical was nice to know.
“Before we initiate an assault, we should practice finding the warehouse to make sure we know for certain where it is and how long it will take to get there. I think a team of two people would be plenty. There’s no sense in exposing everyone. We’ll need to find a place close to the warehouse to park the Nomad so we can depart immediately, and we need a place for the fighter to put down and load whoever escapes,” finished Blackie.
“How about we put the Nomad in the rear cargo bay of the ship beforehand, so it’s not sitting out and drawing attention, that way we can all stay together when we leave the warehouse?” suggested Dex.
“That would be great, but how do we set that up?” asked Mark.
“We fly your transport out into the spoils and wait for the next ping from the ship. I’ll signal when we’re ready and initiate the beacon. When the fighter finds us, we load the Nomad into the ship’s rear cargo bay, send them on their way. Then, we walk back to town. I can reset the tra
nsponders to their previous settings and we’re ready to go.”
“Perfect, Wayne and Amelia can drive you out to the spoils. By the way, the Nomad doesn’t fly, it rubs the road,” said Blackie. “Mark and I will find the warehouse and Nita and Joules can hang out with Joe and Guzzle until we get back.”
“Maybe Mark should drive the Nomad,” suggested Wayne.
“Why is that?” asked Mark.
“I might be of more value helping Blackie find the warehouse than driving the Nomad. I remember every feature on the map Dex drew. If the map is accurate, we’ll find the warehouse.”
“Great. Will the Nomad do 120 miles per hour?” asked Mark grinning.
“I’ll hit you so hard you’ll be back at the bar arguing about music with Buster,” responded Wayne. He tried to fake being angry but it was so poorly done even Joe and Guzzle could tell he was kidding.
“You know,” started Mark, “if it comes down to your acting to pull off this warehouse bit, we’re toast.” Mark immediately dodged a left jab from Wayne and countered with straight right that Wayne deflected while starting a slow-motion pile driver toward Mark’s head.”
“Don’t pay any attention, it will only motivate them,” said Nita as Mark and Wayne traded slow motion blows with the appropriate grunts and groans to go with them.
“There’s always room for Jell-O,” said Mark, but no one had a clue what he meant, and no one asked.
“So, when do you want to get started?” asked Dex who took Nita’s advice. His comment jolted Wayne out of the ridiculous pseudo boxing/wrestling/martial arts fight.
“Soon,” replied Wayne who broke off with Mark immediately to address Dex. “I don’t get a good vibe from this place, so the sooner we get this done and get out of here the better. Let’s ditch the Nomad today and Blackie and I will check out the warehouse.”
Wayne leaned over and picked up the squares of paper containing the map and tore them into little bits. “It wouldn’t do for someone to see these.”
Wayne’s photographic memory was well-developed. He never needed music or lyrics when their band performed; one peek and he had them permanently memorized. He could recall books, magazine articles, and photographs. Basically, if he could see it, he could remember it. And now, the map for finding the warehouse was stored in the safest place it could be –Wayne’s memory.
“Nita, if you would like to go with Mark, I’ll stay here with Guzzle and Joe,” offered Amelia.
“That’s a good idea. That will give you some time to come up to speed on the disambiguation process and equipment,” replied Nita.
Within the hour Mark, Nita and Dex had driven out into the spoils west of town and were waiting for Dex’s transponder to be pinged. Blackie and Wayne decided that following a direct route to the warehouse wasn’t a good idea. They had plenty of time so they left the hotel walking west and after about 15 minutes doubled back on a parallel road. They didn’t think anyone was suspicious about why they were in town, but there was no reason to take chances.
Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to be a little paranoid. Once they passed the hotel they found the first marker – a fountain in the middle of a small decrepit piazza. Paint on the walls of surrounding structures was peeling off in large chips, some clinging to their walls like tiny sconces. The once handsome sidewalk and floor were worn and many of the tiles were broken and had pieces missing.
But the saddest part was the fountain. It was about three meters tall and shaped in the form of Trilinia, the Ori goddess of love and compassion. From the looks of the fountain she had received precious little of both recently. Two of the toes on her left foot were cleanly chipped off like someone had removed them for a souvenir. The long flowing robe she wore was once a breathtaking piece of the sculpture, but without maintenance the elements had eaten away at its patina and there were now pits in its finish where grime had settled.
A fungus grew feathery black tentacles in a radial formation that looked like flattened paper whirly birds on its surface. In stark contrast to the abuse and neglect the piazza had suffered, the statue’s face had avoided significant deterioration and offered a glimpse of how regale it had once been. Had she been looking haughtily upward; the hood of her robe would have offered no protection against weathering. Did the artist purposely cast her glance downward toward those who might pass, seemingly for protection, or to make her seem more approachable, more compassionate? Did he hood her purposely in such a way as to preserve her facial features?
“I wonder what happened here,” remarked Wayne. “At one time this was a really nice square.”
“Neglect,” replied Blackie. “On the other side of the hotel I saw another piazza a block over from where we were walking just like this. It’s like everything just started deteriorating and no one noticed or cared.” After a few moments they realized how odd it would seem to anyone passing by the old abandoned piazza that two people seemed to be paying so much attention to it. Wayne suggested they move on.
Rather than go directly to each marker, they decided a zig-zag approach to map markers would be the best way to get to the warehouse and not be too obvious. That took more time but both of them thought stealth and safety were more important than a perfectly-timed arrival. When they got back to the hotel Mark, Nita and Dex were already back and were sitting in the guys’ suite talking.
“Any problems?” asked Dex when they entered the suite.
“No problems except those directions took us to a small hill east of town. We found one single metal door and frame embedded in the hillside. There was no parking lot, there were no guards, no security lights or cameras. There was nothing except that door. Are we sure that’s the right place?” asked Blackie.
“That’s exactly what Donnally described,” replied Dex. “He used that door to get inside and that’s the door we have to use. I hope you have the pleasure of meeting Donnally someday. He’s on the Koganraim Giants’ ten most wanted list; delightful guy Donnally.”
“What did he do to get on that?” asked Wayne.
“You know that tetratic sphere Arton has on board our fighter? Well Donnally programmed a miniature version of one of those to explode just after the giants brought one of their largest mining vessels into orbit around Korganra and abandoned ship. Arton’s on the list too. After Donnally stopped them from mining the eastern cliffs of Umbreathe he attached that sphere to the hull of their mining ship and politely told them if they went anywhere but home, or tried to remove the sphere, it would detonate immediately, and once they got home they had only minutes to get off the ship. The survivors of Balshan IV consider Arton and Donnally heroes. That was the ship that strip-mined and virtually destroyed their planet.”
“Joules, what did you do all day?” asked Blackie
“I asked Joe and Guzzle if they would go with me to the museum and library,” said Joules.
“Of course you did,” replied Blackie smiling. “And how was it?”
“I found out Numaria was once considered one of the jewels of this solar system. But honestly, on the way to and from the library, I didn’t get that feeling. I saw a lot of dilapidation. I wonder what happened here?”
“The downward spiral started over two hundred years ago,” offered Dex. “I’ve read about the splendor and opulence of Numaria and how it all began to unravel when the central government on Implacto approved the use of disambiguation on its criminals. It wasn’t long before techniques for the process were leaked or stolen, just like Joe’s bioactive fluid and Guzzle’s programmable ceramics, and used on innocent victims. It seemed to poison their society. I can tell a difference even in the short amount of time I’ve been familiar with them.”
Guzzle was surprised, “I never told you my ceramics were programmable,” he said.
“No, you didn’t, but Centorians tend to know what’s going on in the universe, especially game-changing technologies. We find it’s better to not be caught by surprise. Suffice it to say, if something is being invented, has already been inv
ented, or patented, we know about it and our scientists have already started their own analysis.”
“We have a lot of people doing field work and if we happen on something that would help us in our endeavors, we contact the inventor and work out a mutually-beneficial agreement. Before anyone knew about the Whittsner propulsion system, we contacted Dr. Whittsner and paid a handsome fee to retrofit our ships with her technology. Our scientists even offered some slight design changes before the roll-out.”
“We were already using the Whittsner propulsion system in our ships when Gladys finally published her thesis. I’ve never personally met her but I’m told by those that have, she was more excited about Centorians adopting her technology than the sizable compensation she received.”
They spent the rest of the evening discussing how they would approach the warehouse the next day. Three teams of three would leave the hotel at staggered times and follow essentially the same path until they got near the facility. Blackie, Guzzle and Joules were on the first team and would leave the hotel first and make the most direct approach. It was their job to check for guards and open the facility door.
The second team consisted of Dex, Mark and Nita who would arrive at the site shortly after team two, but would find light cover in the woods to the north, avoiding the large open area in front of the door until entry was secured. They would provide immediate support in the event the facility had guards inside the door or there was a security response.
Wayne, Amelia and Joe were team three, and would position themselves in the woods south of the door so they could see when team two made their move on the door. It was their job to look for signs that the first two teams had been followed, and if so, signal to abort the assault. They were also supposed to provide cover for the first two teams as they entered the main hallway and moved into the facility. Dex had given them two stun guns in case there was trouble.
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