Return to Dakistee (A Galaxy Unknown, Book 8)

by Thomas DePrima

"That's only a habitat for the Marines posted here. All of the equipment was taken away years ago, and anything that didn't violate Galactic Alliance was turned over to the Expedition headquarters."

  "I know. It's more a matter of pride than anything else. He feels slighted."

  * * *

  Christa hesitated to use a plasma torch to test the cylinder, but once back at her shuttle, she used a laser pistol to fire at the cylinder with bursts of increasing power and duration after verifying that the previous burst had no effect. The tests were performed under the shuttle's belly, using the ground as a 'bullet block', and out of sight of the dig site laborers. When a sixty-second, narrow beam burst at full power had no effect, she was satisfied the cylinder was made of Dakinium.

  "So now we know it's Dakinium," Carmoody said. "How are we any closer than before?"

  "That's a good question. All I can say is that each piece of a puzzle helps us towards the solution, even when we don't know the importance of the piece at the time. However, in this case we know two things. One, since the rods are Dakinium, they are definitely associated with the ancients of Dakistee, so I doubt their inherent capability for attraction to the circles is mere coincidence, and two, there is no known sensor which can detect the presence of Dakinium, so the search for the other cylinders may be long and arduous."

  "If sensors can't detect Dakinium, how do we find the cylinders?"

  First, I'm going to contact Anthius and request that they look through their files. Perhaps there's a cylinder sitting on another site director's desk somewhere.

  * * *

  Christa's shuttle only had one bed so Carmoody had been billeted at Fort Carver since arriving dirt-side, but she always joined Christa for breakfast. When she arrived in the morning several days after verification of the cylinder, Christa greeted her excitedly.

  "I just heard from the Expedition Headquarters on this planet. They've verified that in recent years, two more cylinders have been found. Using the coordinates they provided, I was able to determine that each excavation was over a Regional Cultural Headquarters. One cylinder has been confirmed to be on Anthius, and they'll send it at the earliest opportunity. The other cylinder was in a warehouse here on Dakistee, but it's apparently been misplaced. It's missing from the artifact box where it was stored, but they're trying to track it down and will send it when they find it. I've sent a note to Admiral Holt on Higgins requesting that he divert the next Quartermaster ship scheduled to pass within twenty light-years of Anthius to pick up the cylinder and bring it here. That shouldn't be long since Anthius is only fifteen light-years off the direct route between Earth and Higgins."

  "He'll do that? He'll divert an entire Quartermaster ship just to pick up an artifact?"

  "This project has the highest priority. If so many ships hadn't been sent towards the Region Two border when the war was raging, we'd probably be overrun with help."

  "I can't imagine what we'd do with them. We've mostly been spending our days reviewing old records, searching for any clue that might point to locations of the cylinders. More people would only get in the way."

  "You're probably right, but I'd feel a lot better if we had a warship or two in orbit overhead. Sooner or later the Raiders are going to learn of our efforts here. If Dr. Manson has heard the news all the way over in Brighton, the entire planetary archeological community probably knows by now as well."

  "I wouldn't doubt that for a second. They seem to spend all their free time openly comparing notes with their fellows regarding what they've found recently." Carmoody paused for a breath, then said, "So— okay, we've tracked down three of the cylinders. We're halfway there. How do we get the rest?"

  "We've deduced that the three found to date were located in the ruins of RCH buildings, and we know where the other buildings were. We simply have to get someone to set up a dig at each location."

  "Simply?"

  "I've asked Admiral Holt to inform the Expedition Headquarters of our pressing need for the remaining three artifacts. He'll explain that under GA law, Space Command is authorized to assume control of the area where we believe the artifacts are located. He'll explain that our earth-moving equipment is on the way to the planet and that we'll be digging up the RCH locations and sifting through the excavated soil for the cylinders, or perhaps a vacuum canister containing the cylinder."

  "They'll go absolutely ballistic! Earth-moving equipment would destroy the dig sites."

  "Most probably, although it won't damage the cylinders. Their reaction is what I'm counting on. Admiral Holt will be prepared to offer a compromise when they respond. If the Expedition Headquarters begins active, full-scale excavations in search of the artifacts we need, he'll hold off and let them do it their way. If we find they're not making a maximum effort, we can always move in with our earth-moving equipment, all of which will be positioned nearby to keep the consequences of moving too slowly uppermost in their minds. I think they'll be well motivated. I really hate using such tactics, but I see no other alternative. We must have those cylinders and we can't sit around for five, ten, or even twenty years until they decide to excavate the areas we believe the cylinders are located."

  Carmoody breathed deeply and let it out slowly. "I can't see any alternative either, but I can already hear the expletives that will be ringing through the halls at Anthius."

  * * *

  Chairman Strauss looked around the ostentatious table in the Raider Lower Council chamber and fixed his eyes on Councilman Ahil Fazid. "Ahil, we haven't heard anything about our special Dakistee operation of late. Can you provide an update?"

  "Of course, Arthur," Ahil said, as he stood up in front of his chair. After clearing his throat, he said, "Our assets are all in place and just waiting for the signal to move in. However, there's been a serious delay in the effort to open the newly discovered facility. Admiral Carver was unable to come to Dakistee, but she sent Lt. Commander Christa Carver, so the effort is in good hands. But we've learned the facility's entrance door will not open in the same manner as the other facility. Commander Carver has announced that she requires six cylinders created by the Dakistee ancients and has begun a planet-wide effort to recover them. They've located three so far and believe they know where the others are buried, but it will take time to locate them."

  "How much time?" Strauss asked.

  "Unknown. The cylinders are allegedly buried in the ruins of Regional Cultural Center buildings."

  "How can these cylinders possibly be of any use after twenty-thousands years of being buried in the dirt?" Councilwoman Overgaard asked.

  "The three recovered so far were all sealed in vacuum containers, which is an indication of their obvious significance. They are in perfect condition, so it's assumed the others will be as well."

  "Why does she need these cylinders?" Strauss asked. "What's in them?"

  "According to reports, they're a single piece of composite metal about the size of a holo-tube cylinder. Each has a special symbol engraved on it. Carver has stated that the symbols represent the key to opening the door. Perhaps she must read each aloud like a combination."

  "How much time do you estimate will be required to find the remaining three cylinders?" Councilman Bentley Bosworth asked.

  "Unknown. Perhaps a few months, perhaps much longer."

  "Unacceptable," Strauss said.

  "We have no choice, Arthur."

  "Yes, we do. I want you to pass the word to our people on the planet. They're to facilitate the search operation in any way they can. Do whatever is necessary to ensure Carver gets her cylinders as quickly as possible. Whatever is necessary, Ahil. I don't care if you have to replace every laborer on the planet."

  "The laborers are not part of our workforce, Arthur."

  "It's not necessary that they be our people. A few broken arms, legs, or necks should get the message across that they'd better find those artifacts tout de suite."

  "Yes, Arthur. I'll see that they get the word immediately."

  * *
*

  "How long are we supposed to shadow this old freighter, Captain?" Commander Conte, XO of the GSC destroyer Portland asked his Captain at their morning meeting. The Portland had been tailing the Gastropod for two days, staying back at maximum DeTect range in the hope that they wouldn't be noticed.

  "The Nordakians requested a ninety-day tail. Space Command promised thirty with additional time if no emergencies required our attention."

  "Are they expecting them to be attacked by Raiders?"

  "According to SCI, the Nordakians suspect the freighter's stated destination is false. They think the flight plan, which will take them to Slabeca, might be a red herring. You see, the ship is carrying Nordakian dissidents who reject the Almuth that Azula Carver brought back from Dakistee. They want to follow the strict Almuth of previous generations and they can't do that on Nordakia because there can only be one 'True Word of God,' so they've gone off in search of religious freedom. Slabeca is a miserable little planet that barely supports organic life, but Obotymot is recovering well from the meteor strike that filled its atmosphere with dust. All reports indicate the efforts to scrub the atmosphere have been hugely successful and the planet is on track to a full recovery. In not too many years, it should again be a lush, agrarian paradise.

  "Obotymot? But that's a Nordakian world. They must be observing the true Almuth there."

  "They do, but Obotymot is still relatively unpopulated. Since the disaster, the population has gathered in large central locations, which could make them an easy target. The Nordakian Military Intelligence Agency suspects that if it is their true destination, the dissidents might intend to seize part of the planet so they can establish their own, isolated theocracy. The difficulty is that every square centimeter of the planet has already been apportioned to the nobility, so the dissidents would be commandeering private property. The Nordakians further believe that if the dissidents seize anyone's lands, it would be the estate of Azula Carver. Her estate on Obotymot spans an entire peninsula. I understand it's about the size of Texas. It's well known that they hate her with a passion because they blame her for all their problems, so it makes sense they would target her lands."

  "Azula Carver? But that's Admiral Carver. Are they nuts?"

  "I would have to give that an unqualified, 'Yes.' Anyone who has a desire to return to the ways of the old Almuth, other than the priesthood, certainly can't be firing on all thrusters."

  "Yeah, the priesthood would have it easy. The people in charge always have it easy in a society where they have supreme power."

  "Yes. They do the directing and the others do the work."

  * * *

  "Enter," Nordakian high priest Kledoujk Vejrezzol said in response to the door chime.

  Sebaqd Gxidescu, his top Minister, entered and walked to where Vejrezzol was reclining on an oh-gee sofa, but said nothing until given permission to speak.

  "Report," Vejrezzol said finally.

  "The ghost is still there. The captain insists we're being followed, but the ship is remaining at maximum Detect range. The electronics on this old scow aren't the best and we only get a glimpse every few hours. When we do, the signal only lasts for a second or two."

  "But he's absolutely sure there's a ship there?"

  "He says he's certain."

  "It can't be just a ghost image, reflection, or some other anomaly?"

  "He says no."

  "Then it must either be a Nordakian military vessel or Space Command."

  "Or perhaps a Raider vessel."

  "The Raiders don't operate in this part of space anymore," Vejrezzol said. "We don't need to fear them."

  "They don't openly attack ships anymore, but everyone knows they're still around. A few ships go missing every year and some people think Raiders are responsible. They believe the Raiders are being very selective by only targeting old vessels no one will miss, rather than high profile passenger liners and cargo ships with valuable loads."

  "Bah! Those missing ships are all old tramps. The owners probably just scuttled them for the insurance money."

  "I don't know. Most insurers won't pay off these days without some proof of what happened in case the owners are doing exactly what you say, or in case they've simply sold the vessel to someone operating in another area of space. But if the Raiders are targeting tramps, we'd be a likely candidate. This old wreck can barely make Light-75."

  I'm well aware of that. You should have found us something faster."

  "This was the only ship I could find where the Captain would allow us to provide most of the crew," Gxidescu said. "Having our people on the bridge will make the takeover easy when it's time to change course."

  "If that ship is military, and we have to assume it is, and they continue to follow us, we might have to go all the way to Slabeca. I thought we'd be able to alter course a few days after departure from Nordakia."

  "That could delay our plans by up to two years."

  "Yes, yet we have no choice. If we alter course while we're being watched, the military will be on us in a minute and we'll never reach our real destination."

  "Perhaps we could lose our tail…"

  "I'm listening," Vejrezzol said.

  "If we could arrange for someone to send a distress signal, the ship following us might have to break off to go to their assistance."

  "But my entire flock is aboard this ship."

  "While making arrangements with the Gastropod's captain, I made other contacts who might be willing to perform this favor for us, for a price."

  "How much of a price?"

  "Perhaps ten thousand credits. Perhaps more."

  "Do it. I'll authorize up to twenty-five thousand credits if they can get the ghost off our backs."

  "Very good, Excellency. I'll begin working on it immediately. It may take a month or more."

  "A month or more?"

  "It will take time because a ship must get into proper position so the ship following us is the logical one to come to their aid."

  "I see. Very well, proceed."

  * * *

  "Have you seen what that witch has done now?" Dr. Manson asker her assistant.

  "Which witch, Doctor?"

  "That Carver woman. Not only did she convince the Expedition Headquarters on Anthius to give her my cylinder and make me deliver it personally, now she's gotten them to throw all our schedules out the window to concentrate on uncovering the three Regional Cultural Headquarters that hadn't been excavated yet."

  "Whatever for?"

  "She thinks they'll find an additional cylinder in each. She claims there are six, and she needs them all to open the facility the people at Loudescott uncovered."

  "Perhaps she does."

  "She's a fool if she thinks I'm going to accept that at face value. Her sister didn't need the cylinders to open the other facility and she doesn't need these. She has some other purpose in mind."

  "Perhaps she really does need the cylinders."

  "We tested the cylinder I had with every device we own and all we proved was that it was a solid piece of composite metal fashioned to be ornamental. It doesn't have any magical powers. No, there's something else going on here. I just haven't figured out what it is. But I will. And I promise I'll get even with her for embarrassing me. I'll make her the laughing stock of the archeological community if it's the last thing I ever do.

  * * *

  Chapter Six

  ~ June 3rd, 2285 ~

  Admiral Jenetta Carver returned from a lengthy meeting in the Admiralty Hall at Space Command's Region Two Headquarters on Quesann and plopped tiredly into the chair behind her desk. As Military Governor of fully two thirds of Galactic Alliance Space, meetings consumed most of her days. Supreme Space Command Headquarters on Earth still hadn't named anyone to govern Region Three. This meant that responsibility for those sectors had rested on her shoulders since she defeated the Uthlaro and forced them to cede their territory to prevent them from waging a new war when they felt sufficiently recovered from t
heir previous devastating losses.

  The monitor that covered one wall in her office was projecting a top-down, 2D map of the sectors for which she was responsible. As was the case with many galaxies, when viewed from the side at a distance, the Milky Way Galaxy looked like a child's spinning top. At the center, it was some two thousand light years from top to bottom, but the thickness fell off quickly when moving outward, so galactic maps were usually shown as a top-down, two-dimensional representation marked off in square sectors unless being projected by a holographic device.

  SC officers who commanded bases had immediate responsibility for the sectors where their base was located. Because of the GA's distance from the center of the galaxy, that responsibility extended to include all territory above and below the accepted median line drawn through the horizontal center of the galaxy. Technically, their space was composed of cubic sectors and astronomers and astrogators rankled whenever Space Command personnel referred to the space in terms of square light-years, but that was the way they preferred to think of it. To denote a certain location within that space, the accepted method was to add an ante-median or post-median notation to the 2D sector address. Whenever holo-tables were used, the 3D effect gave a better feel for the complex equations used for navigation.

  After enjoying a few quiet minutes with a mug of freshly brewed Colombian coffee, Jenetta raised her com screen to address the mountain of work that always greeted her arrival in the morning, or her return to the office after meetings concluded. She halted her scan of waiting messages when she spotted one from Admiral Holt at Higgins SC Base, then tapped the play button and leaned in to provide retinal scan identification. Her ID confirmed, she leaned back to listen as she sipped her coffee.

  "Hello Jen, I hope this finds you well and your regions quiet. My sectors are presently quiet, but things seem to be heating up along our borders back this way. The two wars you fought were responsible for much of the Region One forces being sent to reinforce the old frontier zone border, and it will take years to get our interdiction forces back into place and working normally. Higgins has been operating at just forty-two percent of approved strength, while the Border Patrol forces along the Aguspod, Clidepp, and Gondusan borders have been pared down to bare bones. The Admiralty Board decided that decades of stability allowed all but the oldest and slowest ships to be reassigned. The 762 light-years along the Clidepp border is the most active right now. Things are heating up dramatically out there and some people in SCI are predicting a civil war will erupt in that territory within the next decade. I can't say I disagree with that prediction. We'll have to be careful lest we get sucked in.