“Prepare to receive transmission,” a mechanical voice intoned. “Set your recording system to appropriate mode.”
Then the signal went dead. Puzzled and not a little alarmed, Ian pondered what to do. Deciding he had little to lose, he activated his recorder. His receiver beeped once and then a low hum filled the cabin.
Almost immediately, Ian saw an amber glow form in the middle of the cabin. He moved toward the glow, attracted by the hum. Lyyle came out of his cabin, his face a combination of bleary sleep and confusion.
“Do not be alarmed, Captain Cahill,” that same mechanical voice he had heard on the headset echoed from the cabin speakers.
The glowing light continued to grow and take the form of some alien creature resembling a giant spider that neither Ian nor Lyyle had ever seen before. It was clearly a holographic projection but how it was being formed, Ian had no idea. The few holographic emitters in the cabin were only tied into his Nav system and they were not set to project like this! Glancing at Lyyle, Ian saw his friend shrug as they turned their attention back to the holographic image.
“I am a Horicon,” the image said as it turned to face the two men. “I have been following the progress of your vessel since before your first visit to the planet you are now approaching.”
“How?” Ian managed to say and then stopped when he realized he was only addressing a projected image.
“You obviously have many questions, and I will address these as time permits,” it continued. “But other matters are of more import and I need both your help and the new capabilities of your ship.”
Both men were startled by the reference to the Optiveil. Except for the stubborn people at the Axia base, no one off Vogel knew of the Optiveil technology.
Recovering quickly Ian spoke. “What do you want us to do?” he asked the image.
“First, I want you to veil your ship for a span of five seconds,” the image said. “I need to ascertain how it may affect our communications. If this image disappears, deactivate your veiling device and we will discuss how to proceed.”
“Agreed,” Ian said. “Activate the Optiveil.”
Lyyle stepped over to the auxiliary console and flipped the Optiveil switch. The holographic image flickered briefly but then remained strong and well formed.
“I had to make minor adjustments but contact has been maintained,” the image said. “Now we can proceed,” it continued. “There is much to be done.”
∞∞∞
Piaffè was startled when his equipment signaled that it had detected something through the monofilament grid. The young Jibbah pilot activated his recording equipment. Moments later, far out in space, a disturbance began to form in the floating interstellar dust. Using his optical equipment, Piaffè was able to watch the magnified and enhanced effect of a distorted wormhole forming.
In less than a minute by human time, the exit of a transit tube formed and red ships surged out. Piaffè was alarmed as this group was much larger than the last one he had observed near the human mothership. Fortunately, the red ships formed up facing away from where the little Jibbah ship was hidden. He was safe for now. A glance at his equipment showed that he was emanating nothing those red ships could detect.
Piaffè watched while the red ships continued to pour out of the transit tube. Soon ships much larger than the regular scout class came through and took up a central location in the forming armada. The young Jibbah found his fur bristling at the menacing presence of an ancient foe and predator.
Soon the transfer was complete and the transit tube disappeared, leaving the alien armada floating in space. The formation tightened up a bit and then sped away in a flash of energy, leaving the Jibbah ship alone and undetected. Piaffè whistled a sigh of relief and then checked his recorder.
There in all its horrible glory was the visual and hyper-visual images of the transit tube. Piaffè noticed that the location the Horicon had ordered him to place the monofilament grid was lined up almost perfectly with the axis of the transit tube. Further checking his recorder, Piaffè saw that it had also unexpectedly picked up images and signals originating at the opposite end of the transit tube!
Waiting as instructed a safe interval after the departure of the red ships, Piaffè activated his squirt comm system. Aligning it according to the last instruction of the Horicon, Piaffè sent out the necessary code signal. Almost immediately, the reply returned and he downloaded all the data the grid had gathered. After it was done, he simply waited for the instructions he knew would arrive soon.
And he was not disappointed. The Horicon sent him instruction to retrieve the grid. Piaffè expected this. What he did not expect was the next set of orders from the Horicon—he was to proceed deep into the sector populated by the humans! Further orders would be forthcoming once he arrived at a designated location. Then the signal ended and the comm equipment fell silent.
With not a little trepidation, the Jibbah pilot began his tasks. Retrieving the monofilament grid was easy. Setting the new course and engaging it was not.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“What did you make of all that?” Lyyle said wide-eyed to an equally amazed Ian. “Or are you going to tell me that this is everyday stuff?”
“No,” Ian replied carefully. “This was certainly out of the ordinary.”
“So what do we do now? We’re due to land on Vogel tomorrow.”
“First, we do a little checking,” Ian answered as he got up from the control chair. Stepping over to his workstation, Ian activated his research programs.
“Lyyle,” Ian said over his shoulder as he began typing, “hop in the seat and bring us to a stop. Also, make sure the Optiveil is off. I want as clear a signal as possible.”
“You want me to play with your favorite toy?” Lyyle asked incredulously.
Ian smiled to himself. He’d been looking for an opportunity to pull this on Lyyle. His friend had the making of a good spacer and he wanted to try out his hunch.
“Sure,” Ian said again over his shoulder. “I trust you not to break too many of my toys.”
Lyyle swallowed and then climbed into the control chair. Remembering what he had been shown, he carefully nudged the throttle bar back to the stop position. In response, the Cahill Express slowed to a stop and hovered in space. Then getting up, Lyyle went over to the auxiliary console and made sure the Optiveil was off.
“All clear,” he reported.
Ian noticed out of the corner of his eye that his friend was also checking the detector screen, again a good habit if one wanted to live long in space. A glance at his repeater board showed that Lyyle had left minimum power on to maintain the ship’s repulsion field. Another wise precaution.
“What are you looking for?” Lyyle asked as he came to stand behind Ian.
“First, I checked on what or who a Horicon is,” Ian said. “They do, or at least did, exist millions of years ago on only one planet in our galaxy.”
“What happened to them?”
“Seems they were wiped out when their star went critical,” Ian answered. “Only the remains of their civilization were found underground where they apparently fled the heat and radiation. Didn’t do them much good. In the end they were still wiped out.”
“So where did that transmission come from?” Lyyle asked.
“That is what I am trying to determine,” Ian answered. Suddenly, a hum filled the cabin. Both men looked up in surprise.
“To answer your question, I am an artifact,” the mechanical voice said. “I am one of the computers left by the Horicon and am now active on the planet you call Mica. I sent you the transmission using several of your relays and a few left over from the Horicon. I decided to answer you thus to establish trust.”
“Where is the projection?” Lyyle asked, looking around the cabin.
“I did not use the holographic projection this time because it takes inordinate amounts of power at this distance,” the voice answered.
“What do you call yourself?” Ian ask
ed. He always liked to know whom he was dealing with in negotiations.
“I call myself Ert,” the voice replied. “It is a moniker reflecting my reactivation when I was brought to your planet Mica. I am now a fully functional entity, so I am Ert rather than inert.”
“Why are you contacting us?” Ian asked. He already suspected the answer.
“Because you are both of an independent mind set,” Ert replied. “All too often, I have found intransigence among your leaders, similar to your recent experience at the Axia base. I have reviewed your reception and was most disappointed.”
“Intransigence?” asked Lyyle. “I’m not familiar with that word.”
“It means to refuse compromise,” Ert answered before Ian could speak. “It is very common among people, regardless of species, with their own political agenda.”
I think I like this thing, Ian thought.
“On your previous transmission, you briefly outlined a course of action you wanted us to take,” Ian began, opening with his usual negotiation gambit.
“Always the trader,” Ert replied with a chuckle. The expression of humor set both men back a bit.
“Ah, you are surprised,” Ert continued. “Let me disabuse you of the quaint notion that computers are mere machines without feelings or emotion. I have both. In essence, I am alive and self-conscious.”
“That’s not possible!” Lyyle exclaimed.
“According to some experts, neither is your Optiveil. Yet you have not only veiled a ship but apparently an entire planet as well,” Ert retorted. “Most impressive!”
“So could you elaborate on your earlier proposal?” Ian said, picking up the narrative.
“Gladly,” Ert replied. “As you are well aware, creatures you call Red-tails are able to appear and disappear at random and without warning throughout your galaxy. And you are unable to detect when and where they may appear with their transit tubes.”
“Correct,” Ian agreed. Glancing at his computer, he suddenly saw the screen shift and display pictures and text about the ancient Horicon computer.
“There is the information you were looking for,” Ert said. “I thought I’d help.”
“How did you access my computer system?” Ian snapped.
“Your security might be adequate protection against human intervention, but not against me,” Ert said. “Don’t be alarmed. I’ll upgrade it when we are finished.”
“Thank you, I think,” Ian replied as he tried to bring his emotions under control.
“Tell me, Lyyle,” Ert said, addressing the Vogel scientist. “What is the energy curve relationship of the Optiveil between power requirements and outside forces?”
“It’s hard to say,” Lyyle answered. “In theory, the more energy used to try and penetrate it, the stronger it becomes. We were not able to adequately test it until Ian came along with his ship.”
“May I access your data records?” Ert asked.
“Might as well,” Ian agreed reluctantly. “I couldn’t stop you.”
“In that you are in error,” Ert replied. “I do have ethical standards of my own.”
“What are you looking for?” Lyyle asked. The auxiliary console began to hum as its memory storage unit started downloading.
“I am trying to ascertain whether this ship veiled by the Optiveil can withstand certain cosmic forces,” Ert said.
“Ah,” he continued after a few seconds. “My hopes were not in vain.”
“Exactly what are you planning?” Ian asked defensively.
“And why do you want us to go to a certain location in space?” Lyyle added.
“Are you willing to aid me in turning the tide on the Red-tail invasion?” Ert asked carefully.
“Of course,” Ian answered. “Who wouldn’t?”
“I was hoping you would agree,” Ert replied. Ian suddenly realized he’d been out-maneuvered.
“Ok, you’ve got me,” he admitted. “What do we do now?”
“Proceed to the coordinates I gave you previously,” Ert answered.
Ian climbed into his control chair and engaged the navigation system. When it verified the coordinates Ert had provided on the earlier transmission, Ian engaged the throttle bar. The Cahill Express shot forward on its new heading.
“Thank you,” Ert said from the speakers. “And now it’s time for Lyyle and me to do a little modification.”
“Who? Me?” squeaked Lyyle.
“He’s got you,” Ian said, grinning at his friend. “We’re in over our heads already. Might as well learn to swim.”
“Ian is correct,” Ert agreed. “And in fair exchange, I will see that the Optiveil gets into the right hands with the humans.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Lyyle asked.
“Take these schematics and get ready to do some work.”
Immediately, the printer started spitting out sheets of paper. After examining them for a few seconds, he let out a low whistle. “We’d have to land on Vogel to come up with some of this stuff!” Lyyle protested. “And I never heard of some of these items!”
“If I read your manifest correctly, the needed components are already onboard.” Ert answered. Ian got up and read the list attached to the schematics.
“Hey!” Ian complained. “You are taking some of my stock!”
“What you think of as curious artifacts are in fact components from equipment I am familiar with,” Ert replied. “I suspect it came from old Horicon probes that were found derelict in space and salvaged as scrap.”
“You’re saying that this junk is actually useable?” Ian asked.
“More than you know,” Ert answered. “With it we can make the Optiveil more effective and increase its efficiency at the same time.”
“Then let’s get started!” Lyyle exclaimed. “Where are the parts bins?”
“Always the engineer,” muttered Ian. “Come on and I’ll show you.”
Hours later, a disheveled Lyyle crawled out from under the auxiliary console. “There, that should do it!” he said, wiping his hands on his pants.
“I just want to know this isn’t going to leave me with a dead detector system when it blows up!” Ian said from where he’d been working on the ship sensors.
“It will work fine,” Ert reassured him. “In fact,” he continued as equipment began to activate, “I have already tested it.”
“Hey! Warn a guy next time!” exclaimed Ian. To his amazement, the sensor board started displaying phenomena finer and at a much greater range than he ever thought possible. The screen showed gravitational force waves bouncing off the repulsion field of the Cahill Express.
“My apologies,” Ert said. “Now Lyyle,” he continued, “activate the Optiveil.”
“Here goes nothing,” Lyyle said as he closed his eyes and threw the switch.
Immediately, the Optiveil system engaged. The console readout reported that it was operating at a finer level of sensor diffusion and was taking less power to do it. Lyyle opened his eyes and scanned the instruments. “I like it!” he exclaimed.
“Although you cannot observe the effect, I have tied the Optiveil into your ship’s repulsion field,” Ert said from the speakers. “You will also notice the detector system is able to detect magnetic lines of flux invisible to your old sensor system.”
“I see that,” Ian agreed. “And I like it too. One question though. Why do we need to detect these forces?”
“I was waiting for you to ask?” Ert chuckled. “I thought a trader like you would have been asking that well before now.”
“Ok, you got me again,” Ian said, chagrined. “Now explain what comes next.”
“Gladly,” Ert said. “You are going Red-tail hunting.”
“That sounds too easy,” Lyyle said suspiciously.
“Agreed,” Ian said. “What’s the catch?”
“Again you disappoint me,” Ert said. “Neither of you have asked the critical question.”
“And what would that be?” Lyyle asked, Ian nodding his ag
reement.
“Neither of you asked where we would go hunting,” Ert said. “We are going to hunt Red-tails in their home galaxy.”
“But that’s impossible!” both men exclaimed.
“Not if you use their transit tubes,” Ert replied calmly.
“But we’d be torched before we even got near one!” Ian exclaimed, “even if we could detect when and where one would be!”
“Your sensor equipment is now modified to detect the formation of such tubes,” Ert answered. “And the Optiveil will keep you undetected and will enhance your ship’s ability to withstand the forces present in the transit tubes.”
Both men looked at each other as the blood drained from their faces.
“We’ve been bamboozled,” was all Ian could think to say.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The chiming of the wall clock startled the professor, breaking his concentration. A glance at the now dark window made him realize just how late, or rather how early it was. He had become totally absorbed rereading the old human texts. Although written in the Horicon script, Ert had provided him a more complete and detailed translation. It went far beyond what the archeologists had deciphered and included the deeper meaning and inflections that only Ert could provide. It was when he was about to continue reading that it hit Professor Orilious Angle that something was amiss—the clock!
“Well I’ll be…” he started to say aloud but checked himself. Here in his study at home there was no one to hear him. Again, he looked at the clock suspiciously. It hadn’t chimed in years, ever since the sound mechanism had prematurely failed. Why should it do so now?
Suspecting that he had been set up, the professor spoke aloud. “All right Ert,” he said in a firm voice. “What have you done to my clock?”
The room remained silent just long enough for him to begin to feel silly when his old curved-top radio suddenly came to life.
“All I did was fix it,” Ert said through the radio speaker. “If you are upset, I will return it to its non-functioning state.”
“No, that’s alright,” the professor replied. “Now, why did you have it chime when you did? If I know you, it was not coincidence that it happened to chime now and not when you likely fixed it earlier.”
Space Trader (Galactic Axia Adventure) Page 19