The Lost Artifact

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The Lost Artifact Page 42

by Vaughn Heppner


  “Good luck, Builder,” Maddox said. “I wish you Godspeed.”

  “You are a strange human, Captain. May all the probabilities go your way.”

  Maddox nodded.

  The Builder turned away, hummed like a machine and vanished.

  “Do you know where he went?” Maddox asked the Galyan construct.

  “I do not,” the larger-than-normal android said.

  “But you do know where to take us?” Maddox asked.

  “I do.”

  “How much longer until we’re there?”

  “I estimate another nine minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

  “Right,” Maddox said, and he began to squeeze into the two tons of combat armor.

  ***

  Maddox wore the exoskeleton shell. He lacked a missile-pack. Instead, he carried extra gear there, including a spacesuit and various grenades. He had the autocannon as part of his right arm. He had a suitcase nuclear device, and he carried a laser carbine in case he had to wear the spacesuit.

  With the magnetic boots locking him down, and with palm magnets helping, he waited for it to begin.

  “There,” Galyan said. “The way is closed, but this should open it.”

  The android pressed switches. A missile zoomed from the underbelly of the fold-fighter. The tin can lurched upward and to the side, so hard that G-forces pulled at them.

  The missile went straight for a hatch, and detonated a small nuclear warhead.

  “We will take some radiation,” Galyan said.

  That was an understatement, Maddox knew. He swallowed an anti-radiation pill as the fold-fighter’s shield blazed from red, to brown, to black…black, the shield collapsed. The tin can had a little armor, but not enough to stop all the gamma and x-rays.

  If they lived and returned to Victory, they could take radiation treatments. Without the shield to block a second time, another nuclear missile would prove too much for them.

  The tin can continued its hard-G turn, completing a loop. Galyan aimed for a gigantic corridor. In seconds, they passed glowing jagged edges from the destroyed hatch.

  “According to my calculations,” Galyan said, “we have little time remaining.”

  Maddox said nothing as he watched. The corridor was vast. It turned from time to time and had branching choices. Galyan unerringly took one way or another as if he knew where he was going.

  “Where are we going?” Maddox asked.

  Galyan did not answer. Instead, he said, “Notice the alloys along the sides. They are of a unique design. It would appear that the Nameless Ones have not corrupted this portion of the gate.”

  Maddox hadn’t really noticed. The alloys gleamed with a shiny bronze color and had bizarre, stylized drawings etched onto the surfaces.

  “Can you read the symbols?” Maddox asked.

  “I cannot.”

  “Do they remind you of anything?”

  “Please, Captain, I must concentrate. We have far to go still.”

  “How far?”

  “We must reach the fourth terrestrial planet,” the Galyan construct said. “The…control room should be there. That was the Builder’s guess, at least.”

  They sped down long corridors. They jerked one way, then the other, slowed and accelerated again as the needs arose. The journey took time. It was wearing, and yet it became monotonous. Could Keith pilot for as long as the Galyan construct did? Maddox wasn’t sure.

  “We are nearing the destination,” the Galyan construct said.

  “Do you sense the phase-ship?”

  “I admit that I do not,” Galyan said.

  In the combat suit, Maddox endured. How was the Builder doing against the Ska? How could the Builder find the Ska? If anyone could, it should be a Builder. And yet, what kind of weapon would the Builder use against a Ska? Did a Builder, or this Builder in particular, have soul energy to power the weapon Maddox had used a year ago?

  The captain had no idea. Thus, it was a waste of time to worry about it. He had his task, finding the control that would cause the gate to shift out of phase, and killing the phase-ship’s crew.

  “I am detecting…a Nameless Ones vessel,” the Galyan construct said. “I believe I may have found the phase-ship.”

  “Is it dead ahead?”

  “Captain, the signal is growing weaker. I believe it may be phasing out in order to escape us.”

  Maddox agonized for two entire seconds. He’d come to kill the enemy. In this case, survival was secondary.

  “Launch an antimatter missile,” Maddox said.

  “The missile will never negotiate the tunnel ahead,” Galyan said.

  “Launch it. Then, you’re going to have to guide the missile manually. Do it before it’s too late.”

  -41-

  The antimatter missile zoomed out from under the tin can’s belly. The exhaust burned ahead of them as the missile accelerated faster.

  Inside the fold-fighter, Galyan decelerated. A second screen and panel had risen to his side. The android manipulated it with his right hand. With his left, and an occasional glance at the small main screen, he piloted the slowing fold-fighter.

  Maddox stood behind Galyan’s seat, watching from inside his armor. He chewed his lower lip nervously. This was a long shot. Even if the missile reached the phase-ship in time, the antimatter back-blast would destroy the fold-fighter. Yet, if he ordered a dead stop, they might not get to the gate’s phase switch in time.

  The seconds ticked away tensely. Galyan maneuvered the hard-accelerating missile.

  “There,” Galyan said. “I see the phase ship. It’s—”

  Maddox saw the enemy vessel on the missile’s manual-control screen. The phase-ship had begun to look hazy. It was as ugly as sin with pitted hull plating. It had a family resemblance to a Destroyer’s hull. It wasn’t the same, though. It seemed like…like wet metal.

  The missile zoomed at the phase ship, and a strange thing occurred. The missile began to turn hazy like the alien vessel. Did the phasing extend beyond the hull? It seemed like the only answer as to what was happening.

  The phase-ship and the antimatter missile disappeared from view. There was no visible explosion. They were just gone.

  “Use your modified sensors,” Maddox said.

  “The fold-fighter has no modified sensors.”

  “Can you detect the phase-ship in any way?”

  “How would I achieve this feat?” the Galyan construct asked.

  “Did the warhead detonate?”

  “I am also curious, Captain. But we may never know the answer.”

  Maddox nodded slowly. Not knowing was maddening. Yet, what could he do about it?

  “You’re right,” the captain said. “The phase-ship is gone, and so is the missile. For now, we’ll assume we destroyed it.”

  “Have you heard the old saying about what happens when one assumes?”

  “I have, Galyan. So don’t bother telling me. Accelerate. We have to reach the switch.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, the Galyan construct said, “Yes, Captain.”

  ***

  They might never learn the fate of the phase-ship, but one thing was clear. This part of the ring gate was pure Nameless Ones grotesquery. The sick feeling of being in an alien wasp’s nest grew stronger by the second. The walls were coated with the polygonal jigsaw pieces that seemed soft and slimy. It showed that the Nameless Ones had been here before. How old was this place?

  “How much farther?” asked Maddox.

  “We passed the former location of the phase-ship. I am now slowing. The Builder told me we could fly no farther than a point just ahead. From there, you will have to negotiate the tunnels on foot.”

  “You’ll have to show me the way.”

  “Yes,” the Galyan construct said. “I have the route memorized. Let us hope the Nameless Ones have not altered the ancient path.”

  “Let us,” Maddox agreed.

  The fold-fighter decelerated. They were now deep inside the structur
e. Had they reached the original planet? Did it matter? Maddox had been certain the controls would be on the planet. Now that he rethought it, he rather doubted that was the case. Someone could have brought the gate into phase that way. That was why the phase-ship had been the key. It had been able to go to the out of phase gate. It must have dropped off some of its crew. Those beings had started the process of bringing the ancient artifact back into phase.

  The fighter’s chamber shook as Galyan landed.

  “What happened?” Maddox asked.

  “I lack Keith’s finesse and landed harder than he would have,” Galyan said. “What are we going to do with him?”

  “Leave him here. What else can we do?”

  “He may not be safe alone and unconscious,” Galyan said.

  “We’ll lock the hatch once we leave.”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  “Let’s go, Galyan. Let’s finish this once and for all.”

  “Yes, sir,” Galyan said. He picked up a heavy beam-rifle. “I am finally going to fight in combat with you, sir. I have longed to do this.”

  “You already did that in the hangar bay a few weeks ago.”

  “Still,” Galyan said. “This is a unique experience. I rather enjoy it.”

  “Good for you,” Maddox said. “Ready?”

  “I am locked and loaded, sir.”

  “Good man,” Maddox said as he headed for the exit.

  -42-

  The Galyan construct led the way through a narrow corridor. Maddox followed in the space-marine armor. His servomotors whined, and his boots sank into the spongy material covering the decking. This was different from the time they’d stormed aboard the Destroyer attacking Earth. This place felt older, and despite the alien stuff coating everything, it did not feel as…as evil.

  Could he sense anything about the beings that had made the gates eons ago? He had sensed grim sensations from Destroyers. How could a man trust his senses at a time like this?

  Maddox snorted to himself. Maybe this was the best time to trust his senses. The gate makers hadn’t been like the Nameless Ones. Maddox would stake his instincts on that.

  He wanted to know how much farther they had to go. He also didn’t want to use the shortwave to find out. Surely, some of the phase-ship’s crew were still about. Would such crewmembers detect a shortwave signal? Maddox didn’t want to bet the galaxy on it. So, he trudged after the gleaming metallic construct.

  Galyan halted so suddenly that Maddox bumped against him, causing the construct to stagger.

  “What’s wrong?” Maddox asked, using the shortwave before he could stop himself.

  The Galyan construct wore an earbud. He righted himself, saying, “I saw something ahead.”

  “A creature?” asked Maddox.

  “I think it was a man in a spacesuit.”

  “A man down here?” Maddox asked. “Strand,” he said a second later. “Which way did he go?”

  “Follow me,” Galyan said.

  The construct began to run, and it moved like a locomotive, his metal legs blurring with speed. For once in his life, Maddox couldn’t keep up. He ran hard just the same, forcing the exoskeleton armor to work overtime.

  “Galyan,” he radioed.

  The construct did not heed the call. He sprinted out of sight, moving around a corner.

  Maddox cursed under his breath. He didn’t like this. He—

  A shout sounded in his headphones.

  “Galyan!” he shouted.

  Maddox ran harder, lost his balance and crashed against a wall as he tried to take the corner. Ahead, he saw an incredible sight.

  The way opened up into a larger chamber. There was working machinery with lights flashing. The Galyan construct had skidded onto the floor. No. Maddox amended that. The construct had lost its legs. The metal legs lay on the floor, the open ends sizzling with electricity.

  Two Labrador-sized wasp-things each held a blue-glowing energy blade. Had they chopped the constructs legs off as Galyan had turned the corner and run past them? It seemed more than possible.

  Maddox saw Strand then, or a human wearing a suit of some sort with a rebreather and goggles over his face. It told Maddox there was an atmosphere in here. That didn’t make it a breathable kind, just that a man wouldn’t die from sudden decompression because there was no atmosphere.

  Galyan’s torso was upright on the floor. The android fired his laser carbine at one of the wasp-things. The alien robot ignored the beam, as it seemed to do no damage.

  That did not bode well for the future.

  The suited humanoid, likely Strand, seemed to watch the one-sided fight. He had acted as bait and lured the construct to its destruction.

  “Galyan!” Maddox shouted.

  The captain aimed his autocannon arm, chugging shells that hammered the nearest wasp-thing. The shells exploded against the creature, hurling the wasp-thing onto its back. That was good. The bad part was that the explosions hadn’t destroyed it.

  The head and torso Galyan had switched targets, beaming the second wasp-thing’s optic ports.

  “Good thinking,” Maddox said under his breath, as he charged into the chamber.

  “Keep going,” Galyan said over the shortwave. “I’m useless.”

  At that point, the second wasp-thing activated a device under its thorax. An EMP blast washed outward. It struck the Galyan construct, and everything stopped working as the torso tumbled and the laser carbine quit beaming.

  Maddox’s combat suit also shut down, falling onto the deck so he was trapped inside. He could still see through the visor. The wasp-things seemed sluggish, meaning the EMP had hurt them, too. But the alien robots still worked.

  Maddox chinned the auto-release. The locks began blasting off, freeing him from the trap of his two-ton suit.

  Maddox stumbled into the freezing hall. He held his breath even as an overpowering alien stench hit. He almost gagged.

  Working by feel because his eyes watered horribly, Maddox tore the spacesuit off the armor’s back. He donned it as best he could, attached the helmet and twisted, locking it into place.

  Nothing had been turned on in the spacesuit when the EMP struck. Thus, it started up as he opened an air-valve. Maddox sucked down precious oxygen. He no longer smelled the alien stench. That was a gigantic plus. But he now had a useless weapon, a carbine that couldn’t hurt the wasp-things. For a second, he debated trying to wrench an energy-blade from one of them. But even as he thought it, the dog-sized aliens started moving faster again.

  “Right,” Maddox said under his breath. He only had one option left. The captain charged past the wasp-things and ran down the corridor where Strand had fled.

  -43-

  With his long legs, Maddox ate up the distance. He spied a running human soon enough. The man looked back, seemed startled to see him and ran even faster.

  They sprinted through grotesque halls. In some places, weird sacks pulsated as if growing new creatures. They would be vile things. Of that, Maddox had no doubt.

  “Strand!” he shouted over his helmet comm. “You started this, Strand, with your insane plans.”

  If the man was Strand, he didn’t reply.

  As Maddox closed the distance, he debated firing at the man’s legs. The only thing that stopped him was the realization that he had no idea where the gate’s main controls might be. The Galyan construct had known. Maddox doubted the construct was still alive, or on, whatever.

  Slinging the beam carbine over his shoulder, Maddox ran even harder. He was almost to the other. Maddox dove, tackling the man, bringing him down onto the spongy deck.

  The other turned, smiling insanely through his mask.

  It was Strand all right, or a parody of the Methuselah Man. “You lose, Maddox. We all lose. The Nameless Ones are coming, and there is nothing you can do to stop them.”

  Strange bumps dotted the man’s skin. He seemed feverish, his eyes shiny.

  “Did the aliens do something to you?” Maddox shou
ted.

  Strand cackled wildly. “They shoved a converter into me, me, of all people. I can feel the alien fibers in my mind. I hate it. I loathe it. But the pain, the pain, you cannot imagine the pain.”

  “You brought this onto yourself.”

  “Me? I never did that. I’m just a clone. The original Strand shoved his memories into me. He tricked me. He didn’t even want his clone to be his own person. I was controlled from the beginning. Do you realize how evil that is?”

  “Yes,” Maddox said, thinking fast, studying the other. “Listen to me, Clone. Do you want to get back at the Methuselah Man?”

  “I can’t,” the clone sobbed. “The pain…it’s coming.” The clone screamed as his head shook from side to side. He writhed against Maddox. Anyone weaker would have probably lost control of the yelling lunatic. Maddox held onto the man.

  At last, the clone stopped struggling as he panted and wept bitter tears. “Kill me,” he begged. “Put me out of my misery. I don’t deserve this.”

  “Deserving has nothing to do with it,” Maddox said, trying hard not to pant. The clone had almost overpowered him in his madness. Maddox knew he had to stay calm in order to be convincing. How to do this? Yes. It was time to play on Strand’s known lust for vengeance.

  “Do you want to get back at the Methuselah Man?” Maddox asked again.

  “I am getting back at him,” the clone said wildly. “The Nameless Ones will destroy the Throne World and Strand in it. That’s my vengeance.”

  “That’s not vengeance,” Maddox sneered. “That’s exactly what the Methuselah Man wants. Think about it. If Strand can’t win, he wants everyone else to die. You’re giving him his wish.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” The clone wept.

  “Then help me.” Maddox said. “Help me, and I swear to you that I will get vengeance against the Methuselah Man for you.”

  The clone stopped weeping as he stared into the captain’s eyes, searching, it seemed. “Why would you do this for me?”

  “Because the bastard has screwed others for far too long,” Maddox said. “I want to put an end to him forever.”

  “Not even more clones?”

 

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