TROPHY

by Paul M. Schofield

  “Then it’s not contact lenses?”

  “No, Martin,” Guardian II said. “We have not needed contact lenses for four hundred years. Most all physical defects can now be corrected on a genetic level.”

  “Wow,” Martin said. “What happened to my body?” He looked at Guardian X. “How am I still alive? Will I ever be able to get out of this cage?”

  “I am sorry, Martin, but we do not know what Bestmarke did with your body. He probably left it back on Earth of your time era,” Guardian X said. “We do not fully understand how you are kept alive. It appears that some mechanism in the base of your pedestal is responsible and it appears to be nuclear. We hope that Louis Franelli, Bestmarke’s engineer, will help us understand more. He is the one that created the pedestals and their processes.”

  “Is he evil like Bestmarke?”

  “We do not know yet,” Guardian I said, stepping forward. “We hope he will help us. His cooperation will enable us to help you at a faster pace.”

  “How can you possibly help me? Just look at me...”

  Guardian I looked at Martin for a long moment, pity in her eyes. “Martin, what would you say if we built you a new body? We have the capacity to do so.”

  “Do you mean you could make me like a robot?” Martin said.

  “That is the basic idea,” Guardian I said. “We could fashion you to look and feel fully human again. Would that be acceptable?”

  “Really? You can really do that?” Martin said. “That would be great!”

  Chapter XXVI

  “When you are ready, you may awaken it, Lieutenant Rogerton,” Guardian VII said from the operations center of the cybernetics lab. Rogerton was alone in the controlled lab research room next to the pedestal with the sleeping panther. A holographic jungle environment encircled them, complete with realistic sounds. She was sitting four meters away, not directly facing the big cat, her eyes purposely looking away. She pressed the remote control activating the bottom plate of the pedestal and waited sixty seconds for the panther’s eyes to open. A soft growling began, it had spotted her. She spoke in a quiet monotone the same words of her first encounter, while continuing to look the other way.

  “We don't want to harm you – we want to help – please let us help you.” She slowly repeated the words, many times.

  After a while the panther stopped growling and stared at her. She turned her head and looked it in the eyes, making no sound, not showing her teeth. After a few seconds she looked away again assuming her non-threatening sideways profile. The panther continued to stare.

  **********

  On the fourth day Lieutenant Rogerton stood in the control room with her hands on her hips. “Please, Guardian, are we making progress? It stopped growling after two days but nothing else seems to have changed. Perhaps I need to be more patient.”

  “On the contrary, Lieutenant,” Guardian VII said, looking up from her control panel. “We are making excellent progress. We have determined it is a male, and brain scans are showing small but significant growth in crucial areas of his brain. He is growing accustomed to you. It is too early yet to know if fondness and a level of dependency are forming, but we feel they will in time.” She turned back to her controls, adjusting one of them.

  “We have also conducted an extensive analysis on the nuclear power unit and controls found in the pedestal.” She continued in her soft, high voice, becoming more animated. “Franelli’s genius is extraordinary in the micro-circuitry he developed to allow the head to continue living and thinking with no apparent degradation of brain functions. His connection between the living nervous system and the computer is incredible!”

  “Is there any way to speed up the progress?” Rogerton said, sitting down next to her. “Can the controls be fine-tuned or adjusted without introducing negative side affects?”

  “We believe they can. We have done so, very minutely, in one area to test our premise. So far, the results have been positive, even beyond our expectations. We need to proceed cautiously, however, we do not know what the long term implications may be. This is new ground we are covering.” Guardian VII said. “By the way, have you ever been tested for guider training?”

  “Yes, back in the Academy we were all tested at least one time. I was tested twice. My rating was 8.5, just below the qualification rating of 9.0. I was passed over so I concentrated on my other studies.” Rogerton admired this small, delicate woman, a descendant of ancient Inca Indians. She had an inviting, simple demeanor, and a trustworthiness that touched Rogerton’s heart, eliminating her fears.

  “Lieutenant, a guider/pouncer link may be the only way to effectively communicate with this poor creature. It has never been attempted with a wild, adult cat such as this. We believe it is possible, but there are many questions that we frankly have no satisfactory answers for. Would you be willing to try the link? It will be frightening and difficult.”

  “Is there a danger for me, Guardian? He really cannot attack me, can he?”

  “Physically you cannot be harmed. But to be mentally linked, having a joined consciousness with such an aggressive, wild animal – that could be mentally damaging to you – and to him also. We do not know what the results will be. With proper control and safeguards we believe it is possible, but it will not be easy. It is a decision that only you can make, it cannot be forced. You must be absolutely willing in your own mind for there to be any hope of success. We have no guarantees, it is the unknown we are venturing into.”

  Rogerton stared into the Guardian’s eyes, then looked compassionately at the sleeping panther. She finally turned back. “I know it is possible, somehow it is possible. The first time I looked him closely in the eyes, I felt his anger, despair, and gratefulness. It lasted only a split second before he fell asleep. The connection is there, somehow I must get through to him. We must help him. I am willing to try.”

  The Guardian contemplated the young Lieutenant. “We thought – we hoped that would be your answer. We have already begun preparations for the link. We will give you all the protection we can. Your willingness and sacrifice for the Empire is commendable, Lieutenant,” she said, standing and heartily shaking the Lieutenant’s hand.

  Rogerton stood and returned the gesture, an unsettled look about her.

  Chapter XXVII

  Earth Date: 475 N.V.A.

  Location: Asteroid Belt

  “So, Mr. Bestmarke, let me get this straight,” Izax said. “The heathen Empire has kidnapped your precious chief engineer and you obviously want to get him back. Now you want me to help you. My, what a change from the last time we spoke. You were so sure of the outcome of our little game.” He sighed, looking down his bulbous nose.

  “I was hasty, caught up in the moment, emotion swayed my tongue,” Galen said, uncommonly apologetic. “Our little game is just that, a little game. Our friendship and loyalty to each other is much more, and goes way back. We have only one real enemy, the Empire.”

  “Yes, Mr. Bestmarke, our common enemy is the wretched Empire, but I have learned to watch my back among so-called friends, too. One can never be too cautious, can one, Mr. Bestmarke?” Izax said. “And what of our little wager, are you going to try and weasel out of that, too? What else did the Empire take besides Franelli? Oh, come now, pouncer got your tongue?”

  “Our little wager is still on,” Bestmarke said, squirming under Izax' ridicule. “I just need a little more time to compensate for this – unfortunate delay.”

  “Yes, I am sure. I am willing to continue our little wager, our little game. It is really not that important to me, although apparently it is to you. Be that as it may, let us get down to more serious business. I have in mind our dear Mr. Franelli. He must be working on some interesting projects for you – weapons systems, perhaps? How much will you pay to get him back, safe and sound?”

  “You have me at a disadvantage. Just tell me what you can do. Name your price!” Bestmarke said, his face reddening as he struggled to remain calm.

  Izax l
ooked at Bestmarke with disgust. It was no wonder this buffoon was wanted by the Empire. Bestmarke was known for letting his uncontrolled emotions run his life, bringing him trouble. Izax was shrewd. He stayed within the law and the PCC left him alone to his business. Bestmarke was a fool.

  “You should really have your brother Terran do your negotiations for you, he is so much calmer,” Izax said. Bestmarke grew redder and redder. “I will tell you what I want. Both of us are rich, so money, credits, precious metals, and things like these aren’t worth talking about.”

  “Then what are we talking about?” Bestmarke spoke in a low, steady voice, trying to retain his self control. “What do you want from me?”

  “This is where the difficulty comes in, Mr. Bestmarke,” Izax said. “What do you give the man that has everything? This truly is a dilemma. You see, I could just help you for no compensation, just out of the goodness of my heart. But how would that affect my reputation? What would everyone else think? Would they say that I am playing favorites? Would they say that I am getting soft and try using a little muscle on me? That would never do!” He waved his arms dramatically. “So what I want from you is an option, a choice, as it were. If I can help arrange for the return of Mr. Franelli, then all I desire from you is one thing and I will request it in my own time. Just one thing, Mr. Bestmarke, and I will make my decision when Mr. Franelli is back, safe and sound. Of course, I will not choose Mr. Franelli, your brother, or your ship. I am a reasonable man. I don’t want to put you out of business!” With a smug look on his face Izax stared at Bestmarke. “What do you say, Mr. Bestmarke, do we have a deal? Is Mr. Franelli worth that much to you?”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Izax,” Bestmarke said, realizing he had little choice if he wanted help. “Draw up a contract and I will sign it. I need Franelli back. I don’t want him to sit and rot in a prison cell.”

  “Very touching, Mr. Bestmarke. “That gets me right here,” he said, putting his hand over his heart.

  Bestmarke looked at him, struggling to conceal his loathing. Izax was a pompous moron, a fat, disgusting mole, living in his hollowed out asteroid. He never dirtied his hands once in his mining business and he always played the king. It would be enjoyable to get him out into space and see how tough he was without his muscle men around him.

  “I do not use contracts in situations such as this, Mr. Bestmarke. Your word is your bond and I will hold you to it,” Izax said, pointing his finger at Galen. “I keep my word, you keep yours, we are both happy. I like to be happy, Mr. Bestmarke, don’t you? Happiness is good for your health and long life, wouldn’t you agree? Do we have a deal?”

  “Yes, Izax, we have a deal, you have my word. I will give you your choice or option as you have said. Now, what can we do to get back Franelli?” he said, nervously shifting his weight.

  “Oh, this is the easy part for you, Mr. Bestmarke. Just leave everything to me. I will make all the arrangements. It is much cleaner if I plan it myself. Of course, you will receive all the blame, that can't be helped. But you are a wanted man already so it really makes no difference, does it? For me to have any influence I must have a measure of respectability. Surely you can understand that, can’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” Bestmarke said, growing exceedingly tired of the conversation. “I will wait patiently for you to liberate Franelli.”

  “That’s the spirit, old friend,” Izax said, standing and extending his gloved hand to Galen, shaking hands vigorously. “Now you’re getting the point! I will begin the arrangements at once!”

  Chapter XXVIII

  Earth Date: 475 N.V.A.

  Location: CENTRAL, Earth

  “Thank you for this private meeting, Guardian,” VanDevere said, sitting in one of the brown, neoleather chairs in Guardian X’s office. “I have had many things on my mind, though this was certainly not the least. ‘Star-Point’ has been much in my thoughts as of late. I was quite stunned when CENTRAL instructed me to talk to you. I have been holding many things in for a long time, it is time to get some answers and direction.”

  Guardian X watched and listened to the anxious Star-Commander, Abigail VanDevere. The room was still, only the faint air flow through the ventilation grille could be heard.

  “Please, Guardian, I have to know. Is ‘Star-Point’ my younger sister Michelle? That is the only logical choice my conclusions reach. Am I correct?” She looked into the Guardian’s face.

  “Yes, Star-Commander, you are correct.” After a moment the Guardian spoke again in a positive tone. “You probably do not know anything about her now other than her guider training and renegade status, do you?”

  “No, I do not. Nor do I know how to feel,” VanDevere said, her voice growing agitated. “I am embarrassed and angry. She is my sister and I love her dearly. How could she leave us? And why? The penalty for a renegade is total and complete banishment, a hopeless situation!”

  The Guardian looked her straight in the eyes. “Your sister is not a true renegade. She is working an undercover assignment. It is so dangerous and risky, we could not tell anyone, not even you, until now. Even her memories were altered to give her a new identity, a clean one.”

  The Star-Commander could only stare with her mouth open, she was so taken aback. Relief and new found joy filled her eyes. “She still serves the Empire? I do not know what to say!”

  “She volunteered. In fact, she insisted. You can be very proud of her.”

  The Star-Commander was quiet for a long moment, and then stood up and began pacing. “She had so many troubles growing up. I was in the Academy during the worst of it, and I finally talked her into joining. It took persuasion to convince the Board to allow her in. I was doing well, I believe they took pity on me and let her in.”

  “They also could see her potential,” Guardian X said. “She was brilliant once she was on the right track.”

  “She graduated with honors, even higher than I had done,” VanDevere said, glancing at the Guardian. “Then she fell in love. It was a great tragedy when her life-mate died. He had a rare, incurable illness, and it left Michelle devastated when he was gone. She just fell apart and did not seem to care about anything after that. We rarely saw her, and I feared the worst. A few months later we heard she had become a renegade, our whole family was crushed.”

  “We monitor all the graduates. When we saw her situation, we helped her with counseling. It was during this program that the opportunity for an undercover assignment came up. She was qualified and insisted she could do it. We explained in detail everything we would have to do to protect her, and she agreed to continue.”

  “What did you do to her to protect her?”

  “We altered her memories so she recognizes herself as Estelle Fairfield, a renegade Victorian officer. We completed her Guider training and gave her a wonderful cat named Tommie with a TMC-7 certification,” Guardian X said. “We inserted into her sub-conscience the driving thought of getting as close as possible to Galen Bestmarke and Louis Franelli. We now know that your sister Michelle and her cat are employed on Bestmarke’s ship and have been for a few years. Recent developments led to this suspicion and we have confirmed it with Franelli. Franelli does not know she is your sister. He knows her only as Estelle Fairfield, a renegade Victorian officer.”

  “Then we cannot destroy Bestmarke’s ship until Michelle and Tommie are safe,” VanDevere said. “Guardian, can her original memories be restored?”

  “Yes. It is difficult, but it has been accomplished over twenty times. The success rate has been one hundred percent. She still has all of her original memories. We only changed a few, her memories can be fully restored. When she received her Guider training, a small implant was attached to her brain stem to facilitate the interface with the guider hardware. Bestmarke will see that on a scan and will expect it to be there. What he will not see is a tiny portion of that implant designed to act as a brain-trigger when we activate it. At the right time and place this will be activated to help finish our task of capturing
Bestmarke.”

  “Why has it not been activated yet?”

  “We have not been sure of her location nor been close enough to her,” Guardian X said. “Her original orders were to capture or kill the Bestmarke brothers, a difficult assignment, and then capture or kill Franelli. The memory of those orders was blocked or submerged when we gave her a new identity. However, when the brain-trigger reactivates her old memories, she will try to carry out those orders. Obviously, we cannot allow her to harm Franelli, we are relieved that he is safe with us. His knowledge of time travel is of supreme importance. We must now rethink how we will capture Bestmarke and his ship. Michelle is not our only concern, though. Do not forget Martin’s father and the other trophy pedestals.”

  “Yes, we cannot forget them. Do we know when or in what situation this trigger can be activated?”

  “No, not precisely, there are too many variables, and can best be determined by someone in the near vicinity, someone in the field.”

  “Would that be me?” VanDevere said, raising her eyebrows. “Would it be my decision?”

  “Yes, Star-Commander. You are the most qualified.”

  Chapter XXIX

  Earth Date: 475 N.V.A.

  Location: CENTRAL, Earth

  “Why do you want to capture Bestmarke?” Martin said, gazing into Guardian X’s face. “I know why I’d like to catch him, but what about you?”

  “He is wanted for smuggling, fraud, and theft. He is involved in organized crime and was part of a vicious rebellion twenty years ago that was costly to the Empire. He is directly and indirectly responsible for the destruction of a number of our ships and the loss of their crews. He has taken the lives of our Sisters!” she said, her nostrils flaring. “He is an arrogant, selfish, willfully wicked man – he must be stopped!”