Xander had neatly placed the gallery owner in an awkward position. If she didn’t answer, she’d appear rude to her clients. Clearly she didn’t wish to cause a disturbance and call attention away from the art hanging from the ceiling. However, Alara guessed from her dark expression that she spoke grudgingly. “Make a right and then your first left. You’ll run straight into Arc Five.”
Five? They needed to find Six. But perhaps the Arcs were in order. Or the woman had misunderstood. Landing in a strange place could certainly be confusing, and Alara now understood why the Federation left first contact to the experts. Who would have guessed that anyone would object to her selling flowers to patrons inside an art gallery?
When they left the building, Xander turned left, not right as the woman had directed. Alara stayed beside him. “Where are we going?”
“Back to meet the others.” But Xander suddenly stopped, stared across a wide boulevard, and took her hand. Dodging pedal-propelled vehicles, strolling couples, and several children in motorized cubicles on tracks and a skimmer or two, he rushed her across the open street.
“What is it?”
“I just saw Clarie.”
“And?”
“He exited a skimmer and entered that building with the pink fountain out front.”
She hurried to stay with him as they crossed the busy boulevard. “What about meeting with your crew?”
“If we’re a little late, Vax will wait.”
I SEE NO FURTHER signs of higher brain function. No signs of evolution. No sign of progress.
Go start a universe or something. I’m working.
The virus is spreading, and they have done nothing to counter it. They don’t even know where it came from.
And you were born knowing everything?
I can remember my birth quite clearly, even if it was several million eons ago. I had more intelligence in the tip of my brain stem than—
You didn’t have a brain. You’ve never taken corporeal form. But you should try it. There are advantages.
Like?
Eating.
We digress. My point—
I’m not interested in your points, your theories, or your tests. My work is only beginning.
It’s taking too long. They will expire from the virus before they evolve.
You have no faith in good winning out over evil?
Not since I was in training mode.
With your lack of patience, I’m surprised you survived to the next level.
Clearly, I’m a superior being. I do not fail.
You do not try. You pick apart my work and do none of your own. If you have nothing positive to contribute, you should leave.
Very well. But I shall be back, and if they have not shown any improvement, we shall simply allow the virus to win. Agreed?
I agree to nothing.
You have no choice.
There is always choice.
And the right choice would be to let them all die.
11
XANDER AND ALARA never caught up with Clarie, but Xander’s curiosity was more than piqued. If the alien had brought them to Lapau, had it really been because of their request? Were he and his ship one being—as Alara suspected? But if so—where was his ship?
The rendezvous back at the market with Cyn, Vax, and Shannon had gone according to plan. However, Shannon didn’t look her sprightly self, and he wondered how bad she felt. Given a choice, he wouldn’t have selected her for a ground mission that would tax her strength. Vowing to keep a close watch on her, he planned to assign her the easiest of tasks.
His crew confirmed that Arc Six was indeed the right place to connect with the Lapautee leaders. Xander hoped those leaders could help point him in the direction of the Perceptive Ones. But first, they purchased food and drink in the market with the credit Alara had earned before heading straight to the government offices, where they proceeded to wait for an appointment.
Unfortunately, from the wretched furnishings in the shabby office they finally entered, Xander suspected that the overweight man before them was a minor bureaucrat, without much clout. With his pale gray skin and shaking hands, his health was obviously on the decline.
After watching the previous applicant come out of this office sobbing, Xander’s hopes of gaining access from this official to a higher authority who could put him in touch with the Perceptive Ones weren’t too high. While Vax, Shannon, and Cyn waited outside, he and Alara had gone in together. Xander had chosen her to accompany him because she’d proven resourceful. Vax tended to think like a Rystani warrior, his first instinct to protect his captain. Cyn’s specialty was engineering, and while Shannon was good with people and was open-minded for someone her age, she tended to think within the rules. Alara didn’t even know the rules existed, and he found her company helpful and refreshing.
The more time they spent together, the less he thought of her as alien, as Endekian. He watched her go to work again as she had in the art gallery, this time charming the Lapautee official, Lithdar, in a manner that eased the tension from the man’s shoulders. He’d even thanked her after she’d given him the plant as a gift to soften him up.
But now they were down to the reason for their visit, and the bureaucrat’s pink eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You aren’t here for a procreation permit? Because I cannot—”
“We have come to Lapau from another world and are in search of beings we call the Perceptive Ones,” Xander explained. “We know of these ancient ones because we wear suits built by machines they manufactured and left behind over a millennium ago.”
Lithdar rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I have never heard of—”
“But you wear their suits?” Xander pressed.
“They come from Saj, the dirt eaters below.” Lithdar spat the name like a curse.
“Where is Saj?” Xander asked.
The Lapautee official pressed a button and spoke several words that didn’t translate but caused a three-dimensional holovid to appear over his desk. A spinning planet with aqua oceans and three continents—one mountainous, one apparently covered by ice, and one dotted with rivers and lakes—floated between orbital rings.
Lithdar pointed to a spot on the ring above the planet’s northern ocean. “Lapau is here.”
No wonder the sun didn’t set—they weren’t on a planet, but a ring in orbit. The sky was artificial. The city of Lapau was built on the planet’s widest band, hundreds of miles above the world below.
“Where is Saj?” Alara asked.
Again, Lithdar pointed, this time to the planet’s southern continent. “This is where our suits come from.”
“How do we get there?” Xander asked.
Horror caused Lithdar’s mouth to form a wide grimace. “No one goes to Saj.”
“Why not?” Alara asked.
“Because of the war.”
Xander recalled the atomic wars of Rystan and wondered if these people had ruined their world with radiation. Or had they polluted the planet beyond redemption as Earth had almost done, making the air unfit to breathe? Was that why they lived on the ring? But if the Lapautee still wore suits, someone must be down there to operate the equipment. “Do radiation or pollution problems prevent access to the planet?”
“You aren’t listening. We’re at war.”
“Now?” Xander had lived through war on Rystan. There had been hunger, not the prosperity he’d seen here. There had been fear. His people had hidden in underground caves to avoid the Endekian invaders. But the Lapautee they’d seen had gone about their business as if there were no threat.
“We’re always at war. Yesterday. Now. Tomorrow. There is no difference.”
Lithdar spoke about war as if the Lapautee were in a perpetual state of conflict with the Saj. But Xander had no arguments o
r hatred for the people on the world below. “We are not at war with the Saj.”
“They allow no one from Lapau to set foot on dirt.”
“But if you trade with them to obtain your suits, there must be some communication. You could inform—”
“No communication. We send the ova from our women, they send suits.”
“You’re giving the Saj your ova?” Alara asked.
Lithdar popped a pill into his mouth and washed it down with water. “Sending the Saj our ova is part of the treaty. If we don’t send the ova, we don’t get suits. We tried refusing them once, and they attacked. Since the Saj control the machines that manufacture the suits, we have no choice and are at their mercy.”
Alara’s expression was alive with curiosity. “What do they do with your ova?”
“You don’t understand. They demand the ova of our women to prevent our population from growing. Saj are despicable and bring much sadness.”
“If you send genetic material to them, then the Saj have the virus, too.” Alara sounded as if she were thinking aloud, but Xander suspected she was testing Lithdar to see his reaction.
“Virus?” Lithdar’s eyes opened in a pretense of horror, and he shoved back from the desk, as if fearing he could catch something from his visitors. But he was not a good actor. Even Xander could see the man had already heard about the virus.
Xander explained anyway. He saw no point in calling Lithdar a liar. “Every plant and animal on Lapau, as well as throughout our Federation, seems to have this virus. Our genetic material is breaking down. We hope to find the Perceptive Ones and a pure form of DNA to cure us all.”
Lithdar shuddered. “You must not speak of the plague. People will panic.”
“We have come in search of a cure—not to frighten your people.” Alara sought to reassure him, but Xander could read the growing concern in her eyes.
“However, we need to go to Saj,” Xander insisted.
“Even if I wished to help you, and I would very much like to do so since both my daughters are ill, we have no way to communicate with the dirt eaters.”
“How do you trade the ova for suits?” Xander asked.
“It’s automatic. The arrangement was made five thousand years ago.”
Alara’s eyes widened. “You’ve had this arrangement for five thousand years? Why don’t you make peace?”
“The Saj don’t want peace. If we change the agreement, the dirt eaters will attack.”
“But if you don’t help us contact the Saj, everyone on Lapau will die of the plague,” Xander countered. “You really have no choice.”
Lithdar trembled and tugged at the collar of his robe as if it choked him. “I don’t have the authority to make such an important decision. I will arrange for quarters and refreshments for your group and send your request to the ruling council.”
“That’s kind of you,” Xander said. The less time they spent on survival, the more time they could devote to their search for the Perceptive Ones.
“Meanwhile, you must enjoy our hospitality as if you were Sumaik.”
“Sumaik?”
“Women who lose their ova are treated with the utmost respect. For their sacrifice, the government compensates them.” Lithdar stood, ending the audience. “I’ll contact you as soon as I hear from the council. In the meantime, enjoy our hospitality. If you go to Saj, these days are likely to be your last.”
KIREK DIDN’T HAVE much time. Lataka’s patience was short today, and she expected him to find her by the waterfall, but in the meantime, he would search this corridor of Drik’s residence. Luckily, Drik mostly posted guards to keep people from entering and leaving, so with his guards congregated on the perimeter, once one was inside the building, moving about was relatively easy—as long as Kirek avoided the Endekian women in Boktai.
Ever since he’d found the Rystani glow stone, he’d intended to search the only corridor where Drik always posted guards. If Dora, his computer teacher, had been there, she could have entered and changed the system in seconds, but it had taken Kirek two days to find a back door and then an override code in the residence’s program. Hopefully, no one had noticed he’d reassigned the guards from their station in the corridor to other duties during the time he planned to search. Hence, the corridor he sought was temporarily empty, and the computer modifications couldn’t be traced back to Kirek—or so he believed.
Taking care that no one followed, Kirek slipped down the hall, wary and watchful. Although the guards followed their routine, one order from Drik could change everything. So far his captive status had been mostly pleasant, but Kirek was all too aware that Endekians had a long and violent history.
While Xander had never mentioned his boyhood capture by the Endekians who invaded Rystan, Etru had spoken of Xander’s extraordinary bravery. The Endekians had repeatedly shot painful volts of electricity through him in an attempt to force him to reveal the whereabouts of his hiding people. Xander had not talked. After the Terran, Tessa, had rescued him, Xander had killed one of his torturers, taking a full-grown Endekian warrior’s life before he’d grown to full manhood.
Although the Verazen’s captain never spoke of the incident, Kirek had once gone to Xander’s quarters to awaken him with a message from the bridge. When Xander hadn’t answered, Kirek had entered and found his captain thrashing in a nightmare. Kirek had never forgotten Xander’s inhuman grunts of pain or the wild look in his eyes when he’d awakened and the miserable seconds it had taken for him to regain control.
The Endekians had treated Xander with brutal savagery, and Kirek reminded himself the incident had taken place merely a decade ago. He doubted the Endekian way of dealing with their enemies had changed in such a short time. As he padded naked down the corridor, he remained fully alert, lest the same thing happen to him.
If Drik’s men caught him, there would be no rescue. Kirek was the only Rystani on Endeki. As he ducked into the critical corridor, he hoped whatever he found outweighed the risk he was taking. But he had to know more about the glow stone.
After a thorough search of Drik’s private computer in his office, Kirek had found nothing useful. There had been no mention of the glow stone. No mention of the real reason Endeki had invaded Rystan. But the official reason, that Rystan had violated trade agreements, wasn’t enough to justify the massive effort they’d put into the invasion. The fact that the data had been purged or had never been inputed in the first place led Kirek to believe he was onto something significant.
His hand closed over a door and pressed on the latch, but it wouldn’t budge.
Kneeling, Kirek quickly used his psi to pick the computer lock and slipped into a dark room. After shutting the door behind him, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and listened. Machinery hummed, but he didn’t hear the sound of footsteps, talking, or breathing.
Wishing he’d thought to bring a tiny laser light, he edged forward cautiously, his feet sinking into a luxurious carpet. A soft glow from a computer vidscreen helped him make out details of what appeared to be an office. Careful not to make any noise, he searched the room’s four walls. There were no windows, and he’d entered through the only door.
Believing it was safe to turn on a light, he flipped a switch, blinked, and discovered the heaviest concentration of computer equipment he’d seen since entering the residence. A yellow light flashed as did the vidscreen that requested his retina scan to proceed.
Kirek swore under his breath, cloaked his body from the machines, and flipped off the light. Tensed, he waited for the sound of pounding feet of guards coming to find out who was here. If the scanner had caught sight of his eyeball and recognized that he didn’t belong here before he’d cloaked, the system would likely have set off an alarm.
His ragged nerves insisted he retreat—before Drik or his guards discovered him. But convinced he’d pe
netrated Drik’s command center, Kirek hated to lose this opportunity. He had no idea when he’d have another chance to return.
With every second of delay he risked capture. Yet if he’d succeeded in shielding himself before the computer had registered his presence, he might still be able to bypass the retina scan and find out what Drik was hiding.
Keeping his body concealed from so many different types of machines required a huge mental effort. If he could have plugged his brain directly into the computer like Dora, he could have been into the system within seconds. Or if Ranth had been there, Kirek wouldn’t have had to remove the control pad and rearrange the wiring. The simple manual manipulation wouldn’t have been difficult since the wiring relied on the mechanical sensors to warn Drik of an intruder—except it was dark, except he feared capture, except it required more concentration than he’d expected.
Holding back his fear, he kept up his shield to hide from the sensors and forced his shaking fingers to switch the wiring. With his heart pumping like a galloping masdon and sweat pouring from his skin from his mental exertion, he fought to keep his hands steady.
Despite his fierce concentration, he almost dropped the casing.
Come on. Come on. Come on.
Ignoring his physical and mental fatigue, Kirek finally snapped the altered control pad into place. He’d rigged the setup to allow him access.
Finally, he was in.
At the sound of pounding feet, he jumped. There were no exits but the way he’d come in. If he fled into the corridor, he would be seen for sure.
What the hell. He was as good as caught. He might as well learn what Drik was hiding.
Estimating from the sound of the running and yelling, he had another three or four seconds. Kirek opened the vidscreen, found a file for glow stones, and opened it.
THE LAPAUTEE government assigned the Verazen’s crew to two rooms, albeit in different high-rise buildings. Although the women’s quarters would be crowded, Alara was grateful for a place to rest, food to eat, and the prospect of the authorities working with them to contact the Saj.
The Ultimatum Page 16