by Zach Hughes
But that could, perhaps, come later.
He had Corinne's permission to go anywherewithin the temple complex. It was just a matter of exploration. The word had obviously been passedto the priests who presided over the functions ofthe temple, for he was never stopped, never questioned. When he discovered an elevator which onlywent down, he felt tendrils of excitement. He pushedthe button. The car came up, the door opened, andgoing into the car, he saw that there was but onefloor below ground level. The elevator opened intoa cavernous chamber, crowded with equipment,test benches, people.
He wandered around idly, being nodded to by the "priests" working at various tasks. To him, a lot of the work going on looked like humbug, forsome of the priests were working with native produce and vegetation, testing various chemical reactions. His opinion was confirmed when one busypriest told him that for twenty years he'd beenworking with a particularly hardy native thornbush, feeding it variously treated extracts of potato pulp in order to influence it to produce edible fruit.
But behind a shielded door, deep under the earth,white-smocked young men monitored the hundredsof instruments of the nuclear reactor, and they, atleast, knew what they were doing.
He saw no odd, deadly weapon. He did not get his first hint of it until he discovered an almosthidden doorway and went through a sound lockinto the bedlam of excited young voices and anodd hissing of power followed by low claps ofthunder. He rounded another baffle and saw adozen young men seated in command chairs, something very much like his own fire-control helmeton their heads. At the far end of the chamber therewas swift movement and he saw a small, perfectlyoutlined UP battle cruiser flash across the wall, quickly realized that it was a holo image, saw it shudder as a great shout went up from the youngmen.
The next target, for target practice it was, wasmarked with the autonomous flag of the Zede systems, and that cruiser was blasted—the low thunder was artificial and came from speakers mounted near the target area—by his young friend Gorben,occupying the command chair closest to him. Hewalked over to stand behind Gorben.
"Honored One," Gorben said, "we are indeedblessed that you come to watch our schooling."
"Carry on," Pat said.
"I shall blast an enemy ship especially for you,Honored One," Gorben said.
A UP destroyer zoomed toward them out of thedistance, and with incredible swiftness and dexterity Gorben brought the snout of his weapon tobear and caught the destroyer in a looping evasiveturn. The low thunder came as the image of the destroyer glowed.
"And thus perish all followers of the Anti-Christ,"Gorben said.
"You're pretty good with that thing," Pat said.
"Honored One, I am the cadet leader, thus honored for my studious concentration and my luckwith the Devil Destroyer."
"Congratulations," Pat said. "Keep up the good work, Gorben."
They were all good, all the young men. And thefire-direction controls were the latest available.All Gorben had to do was direct his eyes and histhoughts to the target and the odd-looking short- snouted weapon swiveled with a hum of gears, thesnout moving almost faster than the eye couldfollow. Pat suspected that the entire setup wasnothing more than a simulator. If the weaponshad been putting out any kind of beam, or charge,the solid stone wall behind the target area would have been affected, possibly reflecting the force back toward the men behind the weapons. However, it was a highly effective simulator, with the target ships being in scale to the distances at whicha battle in space would be fought at laser range.
Pat watched until a priest called a halt to thefiring practice, dismissed one group of young men,and while they stood around, chattering excitedlyabout the exercise, seated another group behindthe weapons. Pat walked toward the exit withGorben.
"Will you be with us, Honored One?" Gorbenasked.
"I'm not sure yet," Pat said.
"You shouldn't miss it, Honored One. What aglorious moment it will be when we destroy allthe minions of the evil satans and demons and are, ourselves, returned to power and the glory whichwas once ours, through our godly ancestors."
"You are expert with the weapon," Pat said,fishing for information. "Do you know how itfunctions?"
"Honored One," Gorben said, "I can take theDevil Destroyer apart piece by piece and reassemble it with my eyes hidden."
"Good, very good. Can you also repair and maintain the power source?" He was still fishing. Obviously, such a weapon had to have a power source.
"I am not schooled in that phase," Gorben said."I know, however, that the power source camewith our godly ancestors, and that the secret iscontained within the shell in the form of minutemagic writings on thin wafers of magic. It is whathappens within the Devil Destroyer itself which is in my field of schooling."
The other young men in Gorben's group hadhurried on, eager to be outside in the pleasantclimate of Dorchlunt. Pat and Gorben walked downa long corridor toward the exit alone.
"Let's test your schooling, young man," Pat said."Recite to me your lessons regarding the Devil Destroyer."
"Sir," Gorben said briskly, coming to a halt, standing at attention. He began to rattle off subatomic data, most of which was beyond Pat's understanding. He knew enough of the theory to be amazed that the scientists of Zede had been soadvanced in the field over a thousand years ago.
"Very good," Pat said, wishing that he'd beenable to record Gorben's recitation. "Now here's another exercise, Gorben. As you know, we willsoon be going back to the glory of Zede, where wewill encounter people not so advanced as we. Let'simagine that we have been returned to our glory,and that a new ally, a new friend who does notunderstand your learning, asks you just how the Devil Destroyer works. What would you tell him,in nontechnical language?"
"This imagined friend does not know the magicwords?"
"No. He is unschooled in the magic."
"Ah," Gorben said. "That is difficult."
"We will imagine that I am that person, and Iwill ask you questions. First, what is the source of the Devil Destroyer's power?'
"Sir," Gorben said, "the final emission of devil-destroying purity originates from two sources ofpower. One, the primary power source, can bedriven in several ways, by solar heat, by electricitygenerated by a nuclear reactor, or by the auxiliarypower systems of a ship. The primary power source provides accelerated-particle energy to tap the secondary power source, which is mounted in theDevil Destroyer itself. Calling the power source inthe Devil Destroyer secondary is somewhat misleading, since it is there, in the closed system, thatthe particles are accelerated to multiples of the speed of light—"
"Whoa," Pat said. "Can you explain that to me?"
"Honored One, I thought I was explaining."
"Yes, but I'm that imagined man who knowsnothing about—what was it you said, the closedsystem?"
"Sir, the magic bullets which make up the atom are caught and held, ever accelerating, in a closed system—" He paused, and his brow wrinkled inconcentration. "As if going around in circles, unable to escape until released by the discharge ofthe Devil Destroyer—" He paused again. He knewhis lessons well, but to put them into nonscientificlanguage was beyond his ability.
"How is it possible to have both the power andthe space to accelerate subatomic particles in so confined
an area?" Pat asked.
"Ah, Honored One, that is the magic of the godSargoff, who first tapped the binding energy of the
copper molecule."
Ah, now he was getting somewhere. Ever sinceX&A's one risky venture into intergalactic space had resulted in the discovery of the dead Artuneecivilization and the one relic, a book in the Artuneelanguage, UP scientists had been wrestling unsuccessfully with a theory of a new power source of such potential destructiveness that it made a planetreducer look like a child's toy. The Artunee, or sothe book said, had discovered how to release the binding energy of the copper molecule.
He obviously needed more information. If theZede scientists had actually solved the Artunee
secret a few hundred years before X&A evenbrought back the manuscript from the collidinggalaxies in Cygnus, he'd need to get a warning, somehow, back to a UP planet.
Further questioning of Gorben produced no moreresults. The boy simply had no way of expressing himself outside the rote of his schooling. However,Pat did learn one tidbit of doubtful utility. Grasping at straws, Pat had asked, "But why are themen of Dorchlunt the only operators of the Devil Destroyers?"
Gorben beamed proudly. "It is our schooling,sir. We are schooled on the Devil Destroyers from childhood, as were our fathers and their fathersbefore them. Only we have the necessary skills,sir."
"What skills are required?" Pat asked.
Gorben searched for words. "It is difficult to explain, sir. Only we can smell the exact momentof full potential."
Pat was at a loss. "You smell with your nosewhen the weapon is ready to be fired?"
"Not with the nose, sir, with all the senses. Wesmell it with our hands, our bellies, our—"
"Do you feel something, some charge, some indication of power?"
"You can say that, sir. Yes, we smell, feel, sense,I can't explain."
"And why is this important?"
Gorben's face was serious. "Should the closedsystem be allowed to accelerate beyond capacity,sir, the
results would be disastrous."
"Explosion?"
"The Devil Destroyer would overflow and release its purity in the immediate area of the Devil Destroyer
itself, and we would feel its purity instead of the satans."
Pat had more questions, but two priests camewalking casually toward them, looking at Gorben questioningly.
"Honored One," Gorben said, "I am supposed toleave the temple immediately upon the completion of my schooling."
"Go, then," Pat said. "Keep up the good work."
Pat wished for a good book on theoretical physics, or the use ofSkimmer's library for an hour. Onthe surface of it, the weapon Gorben called theDevil Destroyer was just another beam weapon.Perhaps it was more powerful, but it didn't makesense that any beam weapon would be overwhelming enough to justify Corinne's sincere belief thatthe Brenden's small fleet could take on and destroy the UP.
He started back toward Corinne's private apartment, took a corridor that he had not walked before, discovered a golden door. The door was locked.As he tried to open it a priest came around the corner of the corridor and nodded, then halted.
"Sir," the priest said, "that is the private sanctuary of the adepts. Respectfully, sir, I must tellyou that no one other than those who have takenthe sacred oath are allowed inside."
"Thank you," Pat said.
"I was seeking you, sir," the priest said. "Thegoddess requires your presence in the rear garden."
The priest led Pat to an exit at the rear of the temple. TheSkimmer, grand old squatting, squarish space tug that she was, sat in an open areapast the flowering garden. Corinne stood beside it,waiting.
"I thought you'd be more comfortable on your own ship," she said.
"Where are we going?"
"There is a test I think you should witness," shesaid.
Once aboard, she gave him coordinates for ashort blink, which he executed after taking theship up a few thousand feet on thrusters.
Brenden's fleet, two thousand ships strong, layin close formation in open space, Dorchlunt's sunon the left flank of the formation. Corinne established contact, spoke softly into the communicator, then directed Pat to putSkimmer below andsunward of the fleet.
"The old cruiser, there at the front of the formation, is unmanned," Corinne said. "There are onlytest animals aboard."
As she spoke, the cruiser's flux engines came tolife, sending a glow from the thrusters. The ship accelerated quickly away from the vanguard of thefleet.
"Only the flagship will fire," Corinne said. Theflagship, on the point, was a sleek new dreadnaught.
The target ship was getting almost beyond visibility and nothing had happened, and then, forone brief moment, the old cruiser seemed to glow.The glow disappeared and nothing was changed.The cruiser sped on, detectable now only by ship'sinstruments.
"Cory," said a voice onSkimmer's communicator, "let's see if that man of yours can fly. Go latchon to that cruiser and stop it and wait until I get there."
"Will do," Corinne said. She nodded to Pat. HeputSkimmer into motion. She hadn't done a tugjob in a long time, but the program was still therein the computer. It didn't take long to catch up with the cruiser, utilizing one quick blink, andthen the old man eased theSkimmer alongside the ship until the hulls were almost touching, enclosed the cruiser inSkimmer's powerful field, and decelerated. The flagship emerged quite close, using the mass of the two ships as a target for a close blink,and two men in space gear emerged from a lock.
Pat stayed on the bridge, keeping an eye onthings, using the time to scan the cruiser. The shipgave no more indication of life, or of activatedmachinery, than had the long-abandoned colonyship which swam its eternal orbit around Dorchlunt.
A mountain of a man with hair the same color as Corinne's came onto the bridge first, havingshed his space gear. He was resplendent in a uniform which was very similar to that of an X&AAdmiral. Another man in uniform followed him.
The red-haired giant studied Pat for a moment."By God, Cory," he said, "you found yourself ahandsome one, but is he a fighter?"
"He handled those two renegade cruisers," Corinnesaid.
Pat felt as if someone were talking about him in his absence. But then Corinne looked at him andwinked. "Pat, this is my very big brother, the Brenden."
Do you shake hands with a dictator? Pat wondered. Brenden solved the problem, lumbering forward, hand outthrust, and there was no childishsqueezing contest, just firm contact, with Brenden'sgreen eyes boring into his.
"Pat, is it?" Pat nodded. "I hope you soon bedthis wench, Pat. It'll damn well take some of thesharp edges off her tongue."
"Brenden," Corinne said, blushing.
"By God," Brenden roared, laughing, "if sheweren't my sister and I didn't know her I wouldn'tbelieve she's been living on Zede all these years,movie star and all, and virginity still intact. But Ido know her, and I remember how even when shewas a little girl she was always saying that shewas never going to love a man until she found theright one, if you know what I mean."
"He knows what you mean, loudmouth," Corinne said.
Brenden laughed, then sobered. "Well, Pat, I understand you're with us. You've had fleet experience?"
"No," Pat said. Do you say "sir" to a dictatorwho has ambitions to rule the galaxy?
"Too bad," Brenden said, "but we'll find a place for you. You can fly, I saw that." He grinned. "AndI reckon you've already scanned the target ship?"
"She's dead in space," Pat said.
"Yep. Let's suit up and go take a look," Brendensaid, turning with an agility surprising in one solarge.
In the corridors of the cruiser there was an odd smell, a rank, hot smell. "Pat," Brenden said over his
shoulder, as he led the way, "winning the battle is just the beginning. I don't think we'll have tokill all of them. I think they'll see the light afterthe first two or three engagements, and then there'llbe just a few of us to run one helluva big empire.I'm gonna need good men. I trust Cory's judgment,because when I first started to claw my way upfrom that hard-scrabble mining claim in the boonieson Taratwo she was right there beside me,clawing and scratching right along with me. Onlyperson in the world who can hold her own withme in a fair fight, boy. Don't ever get her riled.She'll use all them ancient trick things on you and kick you in the balls, too."
"I haven't seen that side of her," Pat said, grinning at Corinne.
"See that you don't," Brenden said. "Yep, she'sa fighter. No fear at all, and willing to do what ittakes. Made no fuss at all when I said she'd be ofthe most service to us under a name other thanBrenden out there on that Zede planet snowingthe big dogs. Way I got it figured, Pat, Cory's
mypartner, and half of everything I have is hers, andthat's a chunk, or will be very soon. You're herman—" He halted, turned. "Cory, why in hell didn'tyou marry him down there on Dorchlunt? Godknows you had enough priests and a few hundredgods to swear to." He roared with laughter.
Brenden was still chuckling when they reacheda squadroom. In cages lay dead animals, pigs, goats,a dog.
The other man in uniform, who had not spokena word, pulled testing instruments from his bagand opened the cage of the dog, did some checking, and then looked up. "Dead," he said.
"Not a mark on 'em," Brenden said. "The UPeggheads will have fun trying to figure out whathit 'em."
There was a feeling of lifelessness about thecruiser. The air was beginning to stale, with thecirculators off, and that rank, heavy smell was everywhere. On the bridge all the little clicking,moving, purring things had been stilled.
Brenden ripped a panel off with his hands, jerking screws loose, to expose a fused tangle of wiring. That seemed to be the source of the heavy smell. "You'll find every piece of active wiringlooks the same as this, Pat," Brenden said. "Andthere'd be something almost as messy inside thenerve sheaths of the animals."
"Heat?" Pat asked, very much impressed, impressed to the point of being sick to his stomach tothink of that weapon being aimed at a ship with afull crew of men.
"Naw," Brenden said, "fancier than that. I callit the disrupter. Dunno why. Ain't very scientific,that name."
"Brenden, why must you try to sound like aboonie rat?" Corinne asked.
Brenden grinned. "See what I mean by sharpedges on her tongue?" He made a mock bow to hissister. "The name "disrupter"isn't scientific, butit is descriptive. When the beam hits it stops theflow of electrons instantly in any electronic equipment. Then it sort of beats them together, and this is what happens. Since there's a minute electricalcurrent flowing in the human body, zap. The heart,the brain, all of it stops at once."
Pat was silent. Corinne was looking at him musingly. Brenden saw the look and misinterpreted it. "By God," he yelled, "let's go down to the templeand have us a wedding."