"We're looking for a world," I continued. "It was in this Sector. The K'tac called it Chudit. We're looking for any information at all you have on this world."
"Why don't you go there, rather than here?"
"We don't know where it is. We're trying to find it."
The Guardian smiled. "You've lost a world! How careless. Well, you've come to the right place. We've got lost cities, vanished empires, doomed dynasties, failed civilizations, lost planets—whatever you want. We've got it all."
"Chudit. Have you heard of Chudit?"
His brow wrinkled. His blind eyes stared into nothingness. "Chudit…Chudit. Doesn't ring any bells. But planets had many names. We probably used another name, at the time. If you can describe the place, if you have a general idea of where it is, we'll find it. We'll find it on the star charts. Remember the star charts, Blossom?"
"No, Father. I don't."
"We'll find it. Millions of lives to save, you say. And you're star travellers, from across the galaxy. Seeking knowledge, here. That's wonderful! Did you hear that, Blossom? We have customers—after all these years! My God, isn't that lovely! Get the cards, child—the cards!"
"The cards?"
"The cards! On the shelf over number three—quick, child!"
She returned with a handful of dusty little parchment cards, covered with strange characters. The Guardian handed me one with trembling fingers, and forced a writing implement into my hand.
"Sign at the bottom," he said. I signed the card.
"Keep it," he said. "It's your library card. Welcome to the Library of Imperial Padan. All the knowledge of the ages is right here. We'll find your world. Don't you worry about that!"
***
"Watch your step!" I stumbled on the stairs, gaping at the wonders around us. The library was a titanic hollow cylinder seemingly cut into the bedrock of the planet, far below the surface. We were creeping down a spiral metal staircase that wound around a central cylindrical core. From the staircase, metal footbridges led outwards to the different levels. The huge building was mostly dark. From the stairs I peeked downwards into an abyss—a void, leading ever deeper. Feeble little lights twinkled far below on the different levels, but I could not see the bottom. Blossom carried a candle lantern, glass panels shielding the flame. We had our visor lights. The Guardian didn't need light. He knew the way by now.
"Deadman, what a place!"
"Each level is an era," the Guardian said. "Each level contains the knowledge of that era. The metal is starite—indestructible and fireproof. The archives are housed in individual starite cubicles. We worry a lot about fire. It's very dry here." Dry and cold. I could see my breath in the air.
"Could we look at some of the books?" I paused by one of the bridges.
"Certainly. Follow me." The wizard led us over the footbridge to one of the levels. We found ourselves in a circular corridor that ran all the way around the outside of the hollow cylinder. Individual cubicles faced us—massive metal doors, partially open, marked each cubicle. We entered one. Shelves of books and documents faded away into the distance. There must have been millions of them. One shelf was full of little metal cubes and lined with boxy little readers with small screens.
"What are these?"
"Don't know. It's entitled 'Voyages of the Starship Prometheus'. We've never been able to get the readers to work, so I don't know what's in the cubes. I've often wondered where they went, and what wonders they saw. It's very unusual. Star travel was almost unknown in the Era of the Warring States. There are no other records of the starship Prometheus."
"How about this?" DD interrupted, holding a large, leather-bound book.
The Guardian ran his fingers over the cover and sighed. "'Campaign in Eldorath.' Yes—this is a stirring history of the great struggle for the future of the world. An unforgettable tribute to the common soldier. Two great armies grapple with each other for years. Incredible suffering, privation, hardship. Unbelievable heroism, savagery, sacrifice, and casualties, on both sides. The author is the sole survivor of his original regiment after three years of constant warfare. He says he wrote the book so that the world will never forget the sacrifices made by his heroic comrades, for their civilization. And yet, his side lost, his civilization was extinguished, and the world has long ago forgotten the epic struggle in Eldorath. Only I remember." He carefully placed the volume back on the bookshelf. "Let us move on," he said. "We have a long way to go. The Dissolution lies ahead of us. Then the Commonwealth of Nations. And before that, the Thousand Years War that flowed from the final collapse of Imperial Padan. Then Dynasties, rolling into the past almost as far as you can imagine, to the Foundation. Giants once walked on this planet. But now it is inhabited by pygmies."
We returned to the spiral staircase, and headed further down, into the dark, into the past. It was dead quiet on the bottom level. It looked as if no one had been here for a very long time. I looked up into the void. Little lights twinkled up there like stars.
"All right," the Guardian said, adjusting his robes. "This is ground zero—the First Dynasty, the Foundation—127,696 years ago. Most of the records from this era have been destroyed by age and war and looting and natural disasters. But there's a lot still here. Including the star charts. Generations of scholars have done their best to piece this age together. I hope we can find some good information on your planet. Follow me, star travellers. We're headed into the past."
We wandered through pitch-black corridors lined with shelves full of books and paper, our visor lights and Blossom's candle lamp casting fearful shadows over the metal ceilings. The old man's words echoed in my mind. The star charts! I was salivating, already.
***
"Whitestar Alliance Navy," Blossom said aloud. "Star Fleet Command—stellar secret." We gathered around a large table covered with stacks of crumbling star charts and rolled-up sector charts.
"Yes, yes, child, that's it. Let me feel it." His fingers trembled over the chart. DD had mounted a brilliant white E-light up on one wall and the room was glowing. The walls were covered with shelves full of datapaks and readers and infocards, and the ceiling was lined with dead light panels.
"Warning. Sensitive stellar-secret information. Disclosure of this information will cause grave damage to the Whitestar Alliance and…"
"Skip that part! Go on, go on, what else does it say?" The old man quivered with anticipation.
"Starchart—Operational—Sector White—Kalalan."
"That's it! Kalalan—that's our world. You call it Odura—and this is the local sector. Your world will be in there. This is what you are seeking. Let's open up this one—careful!" It was part of a large, bulky book of star charts. Little pieces of plasticized paper chipped off and fell away as we cautiously exposed the chart.
"That's it—that's it. We need the cover chart for Sector White. Is that it?"
"Yes, Father—'Sector White—Kalalan—Navchart—Operational—Ports and Routes—distances in Stellar Years…'"
"Yes! Now look at this starchart. All inhabited worlds are marked by the notations next to their stars. All downside starports are also listed. Just see the key. If your info is good, your world is there—guaranteed. Here, hold down that edge." One edge of the map was curling up on us. The Guardian moved something over to hold it down. Fingers began making a strange gurgling sound. He pointed shakily at the map, croaking, but no words came out.
"What's the matter with you?" I asked. We all stared at him.
He picked up the thing that the Guardian had moved over to hold down the edge of the chart. It was a solid gold brick, gleaming richly now in the spotlight.
"Gold," he gasped at last. "Gold!"
"Oh, you can keep that if you like it," the Guardian said. "It's really a bit too heavy for use as a paperweight." Fingers carefully backed into the shadows with his prize.
"I knew you could do it!" Kesan said from his side. Her eyes gleamed.
"Stick with me, kid, and we'll rule the world!"
> We went back to the starchart. There were millions of stars in the sector, and thousands of inhabited worlds. I ripped my tacmod off my belt and pointed the eye at the starchart. "Find Chudit, Sweety."
"Fourteen candidates, Three," Sweety responded immediately. She listed them. "All fourteen have the second planet in the life zone, as required. Only two are inhabited, according to the chart."
"That's it then!" I said excitedly. "It's one of those two! Names!"
"According to the starchart," Sweety responded, "Rana 2 and Rima 2 are both listed as Alliance worlds. Rana 2's starport is listed as Port Promise; Rima 2's starport is called Paradise Found."
"Guardian," I said, "Rana 2 and Rima 2. Do you have anything further on these planets? We can explore both if necessary. But it would be faster to pin it down now. One of these worlds must have been known as 'Chudit' to the K'tac. That's how the K'tac translated it for us in our language. Which one?"
"Nothing could be easier. Blossom, go to the 'contents' section in the front. I believe there'll be a listing for 'index of alternate star names', or something like that."
"Yes—here it is, Father. Index of Alternate Stellar Designations. Let me find it."
"There'll be an alpha list of stars on the left. Look for Rana. Then on the right will be a list of alternate names—Empire, alternate historical, astronomical, and so on. It should include a listing for K'tac names as well."
I waited, almost trembling in impatience, as Blossom carefully turned the pages. Almost there! And we are going to save millions of ConFree nationals from a grisly death! Women and children—the future of the race!
"Here it is…Rana…the K'tac designation is Toran."
"Toran?"
"Toran."
"Go to Rima," I said.
"Hmm…Rima. Rima. Here we are. K'tac designation is…G'dat."
"G'dat?"
"G'dat."
"G'dat. Chudit, Kudit, Gudit, Gudat, G'dat! That's it! G'dat is Chudit! We've found it!" I leaped back, overjoyed. My skin was crawling. Victory!
"Negative, Three." Sweety whispered in my ears again.
"What?"
"I have compared the Rima System on this chart to all systems in Odura Sector that I mapped during our approach. The planet Rima 2, alt designation G'dat, alt designation Chudit, the second planet of a six-planet system, does not appear on my star charts at the location given on the chart of Sector Kalalan alt designation Sector White, alt designation Sector Odura."
"What do you mean it does not appear? How the hell can it not appear? Come on, Sweety, is this chart all nonsense or what? What have you got at that location?" Panic—blind panic. I could feel it.
"The Whitestar Alliance Navy starchart is exceptionally accurate in all other respects, Three. However, the Rima System has evidently changed since this starchart was compiled."
"How has it changed?" I whispered it. I had a bad feeling about what Sweety was saying—an increasingly bad feeling.
"I can confirm that the Rima System is now a five-planet system, Three. Two inners, one gas giant, two outers. The former Rima 2 is no longer there. There is a very heavy asteroid belt in the orbit it used to occupy. Rima 2 has been destroyed, Three. It's gone."
***
"That's it," the Guardian said. "I knew the name Rima 2 meant something." We were in a reading room, clustered around a massive table. Blossom was looking through a large book with metallic covers.
"Encyclopedia Galactica—Imperial Information Systems. This is from the Eighth Dynasty, Father. Let's see…Rima 2. It gives the starcord. Founded circa 300 PF—that means 'Prior Foundation—'" she looked up at us and smiled—"by human pioneers originally from Sector Exile of the Empire of the Black Sun (EBS). Source: Volume 1, History of the Foundation. Allied with Foundation Alliance forces to counter EBS, and fought in the War of Stellar Liberation to repulse the Empire. Same source. Engaged in interstellar commerce. Source: 2nd Dynasty, official Ministry of Trade Records on interstellar trade. Vacation destination for prosperous Volturan citizens. Source: Voltura—A Handbook, Galactic Travel Solutions, 4th Dynasty. Planet totally destroyed in catastrophic collision with the rogue asteroid Gargantua, in 988 AF—that is, After Foundation. Estimated 950 million dead. Source: Astronomical Companion, 6th Dynasty. That's it. There's nothing further on Rima 2."
"That's it? A whole planet, dismissed in a few sentences?"
"By the Sixth Dynasty," the Guardian said, "we were cut off from the rest of the Galaxy. Star travel was only a memory then. You can see they were piecing the info together from the few available sources. Also…nobody cared."
"The asteroid Gargantua."
"We can look it up."
"Yes—let's do that," I said. "And one other subject to research. A galactic plague that hit the far reaches of the sector sometime prior to Rima 2's demise. It got as far as Rima 2."
"A galactic plague," the Guardian repeated.
"A galactic plague. Think back…to anything you've ever read…about a galactic plague."
"I'm thinking."
Nine hundred and fifty million dead. A blood-red sky. A titanic bang—and everything they did, all of it, blown away in a blinding flash. The end of the world, Judgment Day, for Rima 2. And what had they left behind, for all their struggles, for all their dreams? A few lines in a book? Is that all they're going to say about us? Children of the dust, I thought. We are all children of the dust.
***
"We wish to thank you," I said.
"It's nothing," the Guardian replied. We stood by a huge starite vault door that led to the outer world. The entire library was a closed environment, sealed off from the outside—except when the Guardian wanted to open it. He had shown us the recycling system, primitive but effective, still working after several centuries.
"We'll be back, probably tomorrow," I said. "It'll be awhile before our ship picks us up."
"I'll continue researching the subjects you asked about."
"We'll bring more of those renewable canteens, and dox, and some cases of E-rats."
"We thank you."
"And thanks for this!" Fingers said, raising his gold bar. "If you find any more that are getting in your way, I'll be happy to take them off your hands." Kesan was by his side, gazing up at her hero in rapt adoration.
The Guardian smiled, and pulled at the lever that controlled the vault door. Air hissed around the edges. Our comsets shrieked at us.
"Thinker, Psycho! Recording! Omni ship has landed! Unloaded one O—he's in our sights! Permission to blast him! Call me as soon as you re-estab commo! Scut!"
"Thinker, Redhawk! Recording! Permission to attack! The O ship is back in orbit and I'm set to fire! Give me the word, it's space junk!"
"Psycho, Redhawk, Thinker," I called out as we burst out the door and into bright sunlight. "Hold your fire! Sitrep! Psycho first!" My tacmap filled with data. We slogged up a hill of sand. The door to the library was hidden in the wreckage of a collapsed stone temple. I could see the O now on my tacmap, a glowing red dot. The psybloc on my comtop was flashing. I slipped the safety off my E, set it to canister, and snapped my visor down. No armor—deto!
"Thinker, Psycho! It's about time! The O's messing around near the place you entered. See the zero. Just one O! It knows damn well we're here! No psypower so far! Permission to fire. He's in our sights!"
"Negative, hold your fire! Redhawk, report!"
"I've got the O ship zeroed. It's in low combat orbit. No indication it's aware of my presence. Just one ship, permission to fire!"
"Negative, that's a Twelve, Redhawk, do not fire! Nobody fires unless I give the word—acknowledge!"
"Tenners. Deadman!"
"Ten. Don't wait too long!"
"I've got the O zeroed," Trigger said. His Manlink was at his shoulder.
"Keep it zeroed, Trigger, but don't fire. Dragon—it's over there. Do you see it?"
"I see it." A glowing red dot on my tacmap, reflected on my visor, icy terror flooding my veins. My whole be
ing was rushing right into that pulsating, bloody dot.
"We're going to have to face it, Dragon." I was having a little trouble breathing.
"Ah…how about we just kill it?"
"No. Don't tempt me. Face to face. You know why it's here."
"Deadman. After you." Dead. We were dead, I was convinced. The O was wandering in the ruins of a gigantic colonnaded building sunk in the sands, not far from the entrance to the library. It seemed to have the word on where to look.
"Trigger, if the O fires at us, blow him apart. Use a tacstar if you have to. Drop it right on top of us."
"Tenners."
"We've got it zeroed, Thinker!" Psycho hissed. I knew he was salivating to kill that O.
We slogged up a mountainous sand dune and down the other side and the O stopped moving.
"It sees us!"
"Wonderful."
The O came in sight from behind a line of massive, ruined columns—an evil violet glow, the force field masking a tall, skeletal figure in burnished dark armor, all blurry behind the field, long spidery arms with joints in the wrong places, holding a weapon across its concave chest. I tried not to look at the split head. Even in armor, it was just too scary. My heart was thumping.
"All right…" I said. "Close enough. Dragon, put down your E."
"Could you repeat that?"
"You heard me. It's not firing. Put the E down." Dragon carefully placed his E on the sand by his boots. I lowered mine as well.
The O looked at us for a frac, then bent over slowly and placed its own weapon on the sands by its feet.
"Psybloc off," I ordered, powering mine off, cringing as I did so. Dragon followed. We were totally in its power now.
The O's force field flickered, faded, and popped off. I could only look at it, stunned.
"Hold your fire," I said. We began walking forward to meet the O. What the hell else could we do? I wanted to turn and run—but I didn't.
We paused, almost within arm's length of the creature. It was frighteningly tall, looming over us ominously, clad in dull black armor. Thank God that massive helmet was covering its awful face.
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