Instead, the clone waited. He looked up. Nothing was happening. Was this a grand joke? Had the Methuselah Man played an awful prank on him?
The clone—
He looked around wildly. He could feel heat but he couldn’t tell the heat source. The heat built against the top of his head. He looked up, around—
The clone noticed glowing dots there. There, and there and there. He tried to raise a hand to feel the heat, but a sickly tiredness began to seep throughout his body.
“Is this the process?” he asked aloud.
No one answered him. He felt so terribly alone. He hated the feeling. He realized that more than anything else the loneliness had driven him into the machine’s embrace.
Like a bear caught in a trap, he endured as he waited for the hunter to come and put him out of his misery. The heat grew, but it did not become uncomfortable.
He stiffened. A memory…he felt…long ago Ludendorff and he had walked toward a house on a green hill. Ludendorff and he had been much younger then. They were friends. They went to the teacher’s house. Strand recalled the strong smell of roses. The teacher—
The memory changed. It was many years later. Strand was deep in an alien tunnel system. Here, he learned that the teacher in the rose-scented house had really been a Builder screwing with their brains. The Builder had inserted memories—
“Memory after memory implanted into our brains?” the clone asked. “Where does it end? When was I ever myself? This is just the same game over and over again. And I thought I could stop it this time.”
As the clone sat enmeshed in the alien machine, he realized why the Methuselah Man had set it up the way he did. The old man had given him an out. He had given them an out. This had happened time upon time, as this wasn’t the first memory transfer. This—
“Stop it!” the clone wailed. He began to thrash as more memories flooded into his mind. He wanted to get out of the machine. He wanted to—
His jerky movements ceased as the floodgates to his mind opened. He did not just receive a few memories. No, oh no. He received one lifetime after another. The Methuselah Man had lived for such a long time. The clone wailed anew. Life was lonely to one who lived on and on while everyone else around him died.
The Methuselah Man was cursed. He had a task to perform. The Builder had branded his mind with brilliance and—
The clone shook his head wildly. He began to embroider memories with a released imagination. He added this to that and struggled to insert it within his memory core. He did it out of spite. He did it in an effort to have some of himself left after this was done.
The memories continued to flood his mind. They did overpower his will, as he’d feared. He forgot about the clone that had climbed out of the stasis unit.
The memories poured for hours, for days. Even the alien machine could not smash so many memories into one puny human mind in a short span. It took time to upload the Methuselah Man’s life journey into the clone’s fresh vault of brain tissues.
Strand groaned at the ruthlessness of the Emperor of the New Men. He could not believe his creation could turn on him like this. Strand relived his many victories against Ludendorff. He remembered other Methuselah Men, many whom he had slain. He remembered the androids that had warred against them throughout the centuries.
He laughed. He cried. He shouted with joy and he screamed vengeance.
Finally, days later, the heat no longer radiated against his sweat-streaked hair. He looked like a concentration camp victim, with his ribs showing on his starved and dehydrated body.
Making mewling sounds, Strand slid out of the alien maze.
The process took far too long. The little strength he had abandoned him. On hands and knees, he crawled slowly across the floor. The hatch opened.
Strand crawled to the food console. With painful slowness, he climbed to his feet. With blurry vision, he pressed buttons, entering a code.
Soon, he drank one glass of water after another.
He vomited most of it back up five minutes later.
This time, he drank slowly, paused to let the water seep into his molecules, and then drank again. Afterward, he ate seasoned mush. He would have deviled eggs and steaks later.
Finished with the meal, he barely managed to stagger to a cot. He collapsed onto it and slept for a solid twenty-three hours.
Finally, he stirred, opening his eyes.
They seemed different, looked and even felt different. They were an old man’s eyes, filled with pain and sorrow. He was the same clone, but he was not the same person. He had a Methuselah Man’s memories. He was not the same Strand that someone had captured. But he was not the youthful clone with grand ideas, either.
“I am…Strand Z,” he said.
He shuddered, finally knowing what he planned to do.
The universe had robbed him of his creation. Before he made his next move, he would need to know more. But then, oh yes, then Ludendorff, Maddox, the Emperor of the New Men, all sorts of people, were going to pay.
Beyond that, however, was something intensely creative. The universe had tried to destroy his art. No. That was not going to stand. He had created the masterpiece of all masterpieces, the New Men. That was what no one had ever realized. More than Archimedes, more than Da Vinci or Michelangelo, he would restore his creation to its proper place, even if that meant destroying the puny human race known as Homo sapiens man.
-4-
Captain Maddox headed for the cell containing Yen Cho. Meta and Riker had joined him; they would watch the android, armed with heavy hand-weapons to destroy the android if they had to.
Maddox was running out of options. Things were moving much too slowly. They weren’t any closer to figuring out where this next clone might be. They had no idea about where Nameless Ones technology could be hidden. Were there more null regions? How could they find them?
Maddox muttered under his breath. He had no idea. He had to catch a break. Barring that, he had to create his own break, a lead to reach the clone before the replica committed the terrible action of contacting the Nameless Ones.
Maddox halted before the heavy hatch. He faced the other two. “Yen Cho will be desperate. But whatever you do, don’t kill him, as we need his knowledge.”
“Sir?” Riker asked.
“Don’t harm his brain. Blast off his arms or legs, or shred his torso if you must, but on no account damage his braincase.”
“Are you sure this is the best way to talk to him, then?” Meta asked. “Maybe you should talk via screen. He can’t get to us that way.”
Maddox shook his head. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He was going to be direct. Besides, the android was likely more subtle than he was. The android had been toying with them for years. The androids had to be among the best spies in the business.
Maddox nodded to a marine.
The sergeant opened the hatch. Other marines stood ready with heavy rifles.
Maddox set his features into a bland mask. He lowered his head and stepped into the cell. Meta and Riker followed. The marine shut the hatch behind them with a clang.
Yen Cho sat at the table, but he was not playing cards this time. He sat like a statue, unmoving and unblinking.
Maddox said nothing as he grabbed an extra chair and dragged it toward Riker. The sergeant started to the table to get his own.
“No,” Maddox said quietly. “I’ll do that. I don’t want him to steal your weapon.”
Riker seemed abashed, nodding, taking the chair the captain had gotten for him.
Soon, Maddox sat against the wall. Meta and Riker flanked him, each aiming a hand-weapon at the unmoving android.
To Maddox’s eye, Yen Cho seemed unaware of them. Andros Crank had repaired the android’s pseudo-skin since the fight in the hangar bay. Galyan had informed him that the highly upgraded cyber-brain had rebooted after a hard crash. Now…
“Do you want us to leave?” Maddox asked the android.
Yen Cho made no response.
“
Maybe he malfunctioned while waiting,” Riker said.
With a slicing gesture across his throat, Maddox indicated that the sergeant should keep quiet.
Riker nodded.
Meta just watched the android. She appeared emotionless, which she most certainly was not. The android had endangered Maddox and helped cause the deaths of over 70 crewmates. Meta was set to kill.
“Yen Cho,” Maddox said. “I’ve waited to talk to you for several reasons. According to Galyan, you are whole again. I’ve also had my chief technician install special magnetic clamps outside your cell. At the first sign of trouble, you will find yourself pinned against a bulkhead, unable to move.”
The android still did not respond.
“Perhaps you’re upset regarding the proto-Builder,” Maddox said in an easy manner. “I can well understand that. You hoped to revive a Builder. I’m sure you believed it would be grateful to you. Maybe you hoped it would help the androids gain greater status. I recall the proto-Builder saying something about androids working as the overlords of a thinned-out humanity.”
There was still no response.
Maddox switched tactics. “We searched both sets of pyramids. The away team on Gideon II used the entrance I’d blasted into a side. The team reached the pit where I endured the antimatter explosion. The team found deep corridors, tearing apart whatever stood in the way. They found nothing useful. Just ruins, some ancient wall-art and a few useless knickknacks. They had to destroy a few things, but came up empty anyway. It was the same on the rogue moon. In a word, the pyramids proved barren.”
The android did not appear to have heard the report.
“Can he hear us?” Meta asked.
The android sat motionless.
Maddox switched tactics yet again. “I’d hoped to forgo any…threats, but you leave me no choice. Galyan and Andros are having trouble cracking the Builder cube. So far, it has resisted our efforts. You know more about this…cube than any of us do. You could aid us. But, it appears you will not. While Galyan and Andros may not be able to crack the cube, I do believe they could hack your cybertronic brain.”
The android still did nothing.
“That means I will order your brain taken from your braincase,” Maddox said. “I will not be reinstalling it. Instead, we’re going to take apart your brain piece by piece. We will reassemble and run it so we can control every function. In that way, Galyan and Andros can drain any useful memories.”
The android blinked and his head swiveled minutely, so he now stared at Maddox.
“You are a barbarian,” Yen Cho declared.
“That’s an interesting observation,” Maddox said easily. “We’re barbarians willing to dissect an unliving android in order to save the human race from destruction. You must realize that I have no qualms in the matter. I especially have no qualms when said android helped a Builder cube. A cube, mind you, hoping to alter the human race into something more to its liking. Apparently, androids are fine with this.”
Maddox shrugged. “In such a situation, I find that I have no reservations in using you however I can to rectify the situation.”
“You truly desecrated more of the pyramids on Gideon II?” Yen Cho asked.
“The away team went down. They searched and found the pyramids empty.”
“The pyramids are holy to androids. I have already told you so. You must stay out of them.”
“Then help me find the next Strand clone,” Maddox said. “If you do, Star Watch will quarantine Gideon II and the rogue moon. They will be off-limits to archeologists and souvenir hunters. If you don’t help us…I’m inclined to saturation bomb the sites until the pyramids are obliterated.”
“You would not dare commit such sacrilege,” Yen Cho said.
Sergeant Riker snorted. “Believe me, Captain Maddox would dare. Or have you forgotten that he already dropped one antimatter missile on them?”
Yen Cho stared dead-eyed at Maddox.
The captain began to wonder if the android had returned to its catatonic state.
“Yes,” the android said. “I will help you.”
“Crack the Builder cube?” Maddox asked.
“I have already said yes.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Maddox said. “If we find that you’re tampering with the cube or attempting to revive it again, I will blast the pyramids to pieces and dissect your computer brain.”
“I have already computed your response to such an action on my part,” the android said.
“Can we really trust him?” Meta asked.
“No,” Maddox said. “We’re going to watch him every second and on several levels.” He studied the android. “You will wear a heavy iron yoke at all times.”
“I will help you,” Yen Cho said. “What more must I say?”
“One more thing,” Maddox said. “Do you know the whereabouts of the next stasis chamber?”
Yen Cho hesitated answering. “No,” he finally said.
“He’s lying,” Meta said.
“Or wants us to think he’s lying?” Riker added.
Maddox tapped his chin. “Do you have a suspicion concerning the location of the next stasis chamber?”
“That I do,” Yen Cho said.
“Where?” asked Maddox.
“I am loath to say it.”
“I understand,” Maddox said. “However, in this instance, I am going to insist. And to help loosen your tongue, I will apply the pyramid-blasting threat to the question.”
“I thought you might,” Yen Cho said. “Yes. I will say.” And he told them.
“That is deep into the Beyond,” Maddox said. “It would take time to reach the star system.”
“And I may be wrong about my guess,” Yen Cho said. “It is simply a possibility I have computed from everything I have learned about the original Strand’s thinking.”
“What do you give as the probability?” Maddox asked.
“Sixty-two percent.”
“How did you arrive at the conclusion?”
Yen Cho hesitated once more, finally nodded and began to speak. He spoke for 33 minutes.
“Detailed,” Maddox said when the android finally stopped talking. “And I’m impressed by your extensive store of knowledge.”
“I have lived longer than the Methuselah Men,” Yen Cho said. “I have learned a great deal in all that time.”
“Apparently,” Maddox said. He stood.
Meta and Riker rose with him.
“Are we going to the selected star system?” Yen Cho asked.
“I’ll let you know once I decide,” Maddox said, rapping on the hatch.
It opened.
“We do not have much time,” Yen Cho said. “It is, in fact, my belief, that the stasis chamber has already expelled its occupant.”
“I’ve wondered about that,” Maddox said.
“When do I get out of here to help you with the Builder cube?”
“Soon,” Maddox said.
The three humans departed the cell, waiting until the marine shut the hatch and they’d heard the lock engage before heading out of the brig area of the ship.
-5-
There was nothing for it but to start traveling as fast as Victory could go. The ancient Adok starship had a key advantage few other space vessels possessed; it had the star-drive jump. It allowed them to jump directly to the next Laumer Point in a star system and then use it to reach the next system. The problem was greater stress on the crew as they made jump after jump after jump in quick succession.
The starship left Human Space and entered the Beyond. That was another stress. Traveling through the unknown slowly built greater pressure among those doing it.
This wasn’t an ordinary crew, however. They had undergone rigorous testing as the Patrol people searched for individuals that could take the pressures. What’s more, Victory had been farther into the Beyond than any other known human-crewed ship. Most of the crew was used to this. As used to it as one got, anyway.
As the
days passed, it became clear to Maddox that Yen Cho knew far more than Star Watch had suspected. The android kept providing new Laumer Point coordinates as the starship traveled through uncharted areas of the Beyond.
“We must be nearing the Throne World,” Maddox said one day.
Yen Cho was among the science team working on the Builder cube. Armed marines stood against the bulkheads. Others were in the next room, ready to activate giant magnetic clamps.
Yen Cho wore what looked like an old-style yoke for a beast of burden. If the magnetic clamps activated, they would pick the yoked android off the floor and slam the iron yoke against a bulkhead. It meant extra weight for Yen Cho, and often proved to be in his way. The android hadn’t complained. If the yoke-jacket bothered him, he had not let on.
Maddox studied daily reports concerning the android’s behavior. Looking for a clue as to the android’s… Feelings would be the wrong word. Maybe trying to figure out what Yen Cho wanted and what he would attempt to do.
Maddox presently stood beside the android. In the center of the room was a giant globe. The cube sat in the exact center with power cables attached to the clear block that held the cube. Scientists stood around the circular console that ringed the giant globe.
Andros Crank and Galyan instructed scientists on various procedures. The cube had proven extremely resistant to any hacking or cracking.
It had been three weeks already, and they were no closer to breaking into the Builder software than before. None of Yen Cho’s suggestions had helped, either.
If it hadn’t been for his data about the Beyond, Maddox would have sent the android back into his cell a long time ago.
The android turned to Maddox in regard to the captain’s comment about the Throne World.
“I suggest we stay far from the New Men,” Yen Cho said.
Maddox was inclined to agree. Despite their help against the Swarm Invasion Fleet, the captain didn’t trust the New Men. He wondered, then, what Lord Drakos did at this moment. Was the man his father? He had believed so. Now…he wasn’t one hundred percent certain. But if Lord Drakos wasn’t his father, who was? How would he ever find out, so he could kill the responsible man?
The Lost Artifact Page 26