* * * *
Three things happened which Danny only learned about later.
The main land attack had been aimed at eliminating Lyshenko and possibly himself. It had also been shrewdly masterminded as a diversion for a special commando action elsewhere, and that was to turn the tide.
Also, a second drama unfolded in the forest, possibly while Lyshenko lay dying. Jerry Fontaine had pounced upon a wounded commando from Terra Nova. He had recognized Ricky Campara, the former medi-tech who had also been present in the Moal camp when Buli had disappeared.
"You were with the attackers that day!" he growled at him, holding him to the ground with his spear point. "What do you know about it? Where did she go? Was she captured?"
Campara stared up in terror at a man who had twice been supposedly dead. He saw the dread presentiment of death in Jerry's eyes, now no longer misted by dreams. Here was a muscled warrior who trembled with a rage to destroy.
"I swear I don't know!" he wailed, almost forgetting the dull fire of pain from a broken arrow in his back.
"He lies!" came an unexpected cry from the jungle.
Jerry turned abruptly toward the strange apparition that suddenly rushed from concealment. Campara lunged painfully for his fallen weapon, and Jerry banged his head with the obsidian spear head. It knocked him senseless for the moment.
Now the apparition in the monkish robe was pulling at his arm and pleading with him. A haggard, frightened face stared out from the shadow of his cowl, the dark eyes haunted by an indelible vision. "Were you there?" cried the parched, cracked voice, "there in the temple when the Oracle spoke?"
"Yes, I was there, Bishop. I heard every word," Jerry answered impatiently. He wanted to get back to the subject of Buli.
The trembling hand on his arm gripped him in desperation. "But did you hear her last words?"
"Something about a Sun Death, but..."
"No!" shrieked Saussure. "Her last words, when I demanded to know for whom she spoke! She said–"
"Stop your babbling, Bishop!" Jerry grabbed him then and threw him to the ground. "Why did you say Campara lied?"
"We've all been lying!" walled the fallen figure. "Oh Holy God, forgive us!"
"Shut up, Saussure! What do you know about Buli, the Moal girl?"
Campara had come to again. "I'll tell you," he said sullenly. "What difference does it make? The crime is done."
The spear point was instantly at his throat. "What crime?"
The ghastly story came out then, largely because the Bishop was frantically repentant, crying aloud for his sins, claiming he had sanctioned a secret regime of iniquity. He had known of the crime and closed his eyes in his lust for power.
Ricky Campara had been the surgical assistant in the macabre experiment. Buli had been subjected to a Caesarian operation in order to obtain her unique child, a hybrid of human and prehuman parents. Worse, the infant brain had been transferred to the roborg the Rak had damaged. The end had justified the means. It was an opportunity to train a roborg from infancy.
Later, when Jerry plunged almost blindly through the jungle, all he could think of was the name they had given him – the mastermind who had conceived of the fiendish plan. To place the crime almost beyond conception, he knew that science hadn't been the motivation. It had been satanic revenge against himself, through innocent Buli, because he had once refused a secret offer which it was not in his nature to accept.
Campara had crawled away somewhere to die. The Bishop had been left in the small jungle clearing, madly staring at some terror in his mind, muttering and piteously praying, or repeating aloud the devastating message the Oracle had sent him – which none had received but himself.
All Jerry could think of now was the insane one who had stabbed against him with a pitchfork from Hell, the monster who had plotted the murders of Hahnemann, Fritters and Torky Verga, and who had twisted the star quest itself into a devilish mockery of human altruism.
"You're stronger than you think, and you're needed," Freddie had told him. "For God's sake, Jerry, quit shielding your soul!"
The orchid dream was ended. Tears of wrath blurred his vision as he rushed to bring retaliation into "the dwelling places of evil."
But that same night, when Danny and his desperate group were cautiously approaching the colony base and when Jerry was finalizing his own plans, a third event occurred. Out on the orbiting main frame of the star ship, Boozie made his great experiment, using the lasers to modulate the gravitron field of his cosmoscope, sending his first instant message across the Barrier to any who might be able to receive it. On the primeval world below, there were some who saw that brilliant five-minute laser burst in the sky. The star of prophecy...
CHAPTER XX
The time-lost grandeur of the lofty ziggurat and the ancient square had been replaced by a sprawling, aggressive functionalism. The processing plants, shops, and grange barns of Terra Nova loomed out of the jungle on either side of the huge temple as if to rend the veil of ageless dreaming and to proclaim the right of preemption. The predawn darkness was permeated by a reddish gloom reflected from volcanic clouds while the temple's slanting face was caught in fitful, intermittent flashes from the smelter plant. To complete the atmosphere of culture contamination, black smoke rose up from the blast furnaces and searchlights gleamed balefully from factory roof and temple terrace alike. Adding a touch of twenty-third century dominance was the great metallic hull of the star ship's life-pod and an ominous row of silent roborgs deployed along the western perimeter of the settlement.
This was the general impression as seen from the "monastery," approximately one-half mile to the west of the main temple. Among the peripheral ruins of the Terra Nova area this ancient structure had been preserved to some extent. Three of its high stone walls still towered above the jungle, vine-grown and weathered but otherwise impervious to the ravages of time. During the past several years, Saussure's growing order of White Friars had added a fourth wall and ceiling beams. Originally it had been some kind of pantheon for special burial rites. At the present moment, however, Danny and his commando team were using it as a final staging point. The reconnoitering and final preparations were completed. The men were waiting for a "go" on plan two's strategic action.
Vinet and Zellon had come down off the east wall and joined them in the deeper darkness below in the forest. The men were conversing in low tones, discussing the feasibility of their desperate ventures, an action in which most of them could die. But all of them were determined to thwart Alonso and Pike. The star ship must return to Earth in spite of the so-called monarchy. This objective had become particularly urgent in view of Boozie's warning that the Duke might be insane enough to play Cortez and burn his ship behind him.
At any cost, the ship had to be saved. The message of the age had to be carried across the Barrier.
"It's growing light in the east," said Poyntner softly. "We'd better move."
"The diversion detail is ready," added Bjornson hoarsely.
"All right, men," Danny answered. "Let's circle to our position. One leadman, remember, and hood that light as you go."
As the team filed off onto the narrow trail south of the camp, Danny had time for a last recap of where all the pieces were in the destiny game, and the high-stake ground rules that had ripped his own ties asunder. The glow of wonder that had touched his world but hours before had turned to ashen gray. Yet if such a personal sacrifice was to be made he was determined that it wouldn't be wasted. He remembered Freddie clinging to him when they said good bye.
"Tell them to remember the Earth dreams, Danny!"
He walked through the ashes, seeing but one objective: the ship, and delivering the Skipper's mission. His own plan two was one contribution to this moment – the long-rehearsed strategies, the supply kits buried for months near the camp. As a result they were heavily armed and equipped. They might have a prayer, after all, especially if there was any validity to what Poyntner had come up with.
&nbs
p; They had used the air car's radio to make a formal reply to the royal declaration of war. The transcorder had also transmitted the Skipper's final orders to the ship's log. Officially, Danny was in charge of Flight Command, and Poyntner was still a Top-Deck member of the Council, not to mention Project Administration. By law the roles were reversed. The monarchy was the renegade element now, a declared secessionist entity. As a ruse, Danny and Poyntner announced that they would be coming to Terra Nova at noon of the following day, and they had proposed their compromise action in advance. The points presented were few and simple though drastic:
1. There must be an immediate agreement to send the ship on its hiber journey.
2. For all remaining colonists, co-existence with the Talavats was far more preferable than the dubious adventure of war.
3. The island continent was endangered by the threat of a natural cataclysm. Evacuation was mandatory. Those who did not elect to go with Ravano's fleet would be transferred to the mainland in the life-pod prior to the star ship's departure.
They had received no response to the broadcast, nor had they expected any. The whole purpose of the transmission had been to implant a coded message. Lyshenko had long since instructed Poyntner in case anything should happen to him.
Poyntner himself was uninformed as to the meaning of the inserted code words. He merely assumed that the wily Skipper had not been sitting blindly on his rulebook. Apparently he had a plan two of his own. There had been no time to find out what the plan was, if it existed in fact.
The mystery message had been sent. Who it was for or what consequent action would be taken, if any, was something that remained to be seen. As far as King Alonso the First was concerned, he would be expecting them to make fools of themselves sometime during the day. Hopefully, he or Pike would not be expecting a predawn raid on the life-pod itself. However, Boozie had subsequently warned them. They could be walking into a trap even now because things were suspiciously quiet.
Danny had only one answer: Did it make any difference? They were committed. The action was go, for better or worse.
* * * *
Shot from a crossbow, the flaming arrow traced a thin arc of orange across the dark red background of volcanic clouds. It was the signal to the diversion team. Near the distillation tower and the fuel storage yard the first of the demolition charges went off, sending towers of smoke and flame into the fading night. Fire grenades flashed in the grange barns, and a chatter of machine rifles was heard in the native compound over the war whoops of startled Golaks. More lights came on across the square as alert horns started blaring and helmeted figures were seen sprinting among the moving roborgs.
"Now!" shouted Danny.
A dozen of them emerged from the southeastern edge of the jungle, which was behind the life-pod and closest to it. The roborgs and the security troops were heading northeast toward the main disturbance, as expected. The invaders ran around the aft end of the looming hull and gained the main ground lock. They could have forced the latch with explosives or tools but it wasn't secured against intrusion.
"It's a trap!" warned Makart.
"So we spring it!" yelled Danny. "Let's go!"
When the hatch swung open, however, they looked up into the red-glowing lenticular eyes of a waiting roborg. Their combined machine fire sprayed off its armor plating as it rolled down the low boarding ramp. Vinet and Zellon tried to bring their two-man antitank weapon into play, but the roborg's laser flashed out like a whip. Kerby Zellon's ungainly figure toppled weirdly, nearly sliced in half. Vinet was grazed, sinking to his knees as the metal talons reached for him.
Suddenly the Axe was there, bellowing in rage. He had found a loose flagstone which must have weighed 200 pounds. His huge arms hoisted it above his head and he hurled it at close range, backed by the momentum of his Viking frame. He was in time to save Billy Vinet. The heavy stone shattered the roborg's eyes and the living brain behind them.
They had to go on, carrying Vinet with them into the ship and locking the outer and inner hatches behind them.
Zellon was gone. There was nothing they could do for him.
The main objective now was to get to the bridge and lift off on the gravitrons before retaliation struck.
"What worries me," said Poyntner, "is that three-inch missile launcher on top of the temple. They could shoot us down with that, up to a hundred thousand feet."
"So we use the bow rocket batteries to knock it out!" retorted Makart.
"But first we have to get to Top Deck," warned Danny.
Plan two now provided for the non-hiber crew to return from orbit in the space shuttle, but he wondered if they would still have a chance to get the life-pod off the ground. They had not quite reached the magnetic lift when a shriek of escaping pressure was heard. A rolling, silvery mist rolled through the corridor at them from two directions.
"Gas!" yelled Danny, grabbing his mask-pak.
The gas tubes here were an unexpected new installation. Unfortunately, only three gas masks had been available in the supply kits they had buried in the jungle. By mutual agreement, Danny, Poyntner, and Bjornson were so equipped. While their companions went dashing through the paralyzing vapors to fall helplessly into the arms of masked security guards, the three remaining invaders swiftly entered the lift.
When the doors slid open on A-deck, however, it was the end. Pike and Hapgood stood there waiting with a dozen men. Their guns enclosed them in a bristling half-circle of insurmountable resistance. There was no escape. They lowered their guns and took off their masks.
"Now that's the first sensible thing you've done in years, Captain!"
War Marshal Adolphus Pike grinned triumphantly. He looked especially militant in his combat helmet and full battle gear. Attached to his belt was a grenade satchel plus the vital black box that remotely controlled the roborgs. Danny realized bitterly that this alone was a key to military supremacy at the base, but several hundred armed earthmen and an uncounted force of rifle-wielding Golaks just about wrapped it up for the monarchy, now that Ravano had made his crossroad decision to head for his ships.
Yet thoughts flashed through his mind in staccato succession like an intuition apart from his normal reactions. At any cost the ship must be saved. "Your ship will be gated through the Barrier," the blue-faced demigod had said. Walking through ashes in total commitment, he refused to give up.
"Hey Happy!" he said suddenly, addressing Ogden Hapgood. "What was that you said on the South Road the other day? 'I'm sticking to something you chickened out on, following orders, still playing it by the book.' Remember? Or haven't you heard the latest log entry?"
"Shut up!" snapped Adolf menacingly.
"I'm the Skipper now," Danny retorted. "You boys are the renegades."
"There is no law here but the king's," replied Pike adamantly. "That law says you are prisoners, enemies of the realm. You don't have a prayer, so shut your yap!"
Hapgood smiled strangely when he finally answered but he addressed his remark to Pike instead of to Danny. "You know, Marshal, Danny may have a point. There is one technicality."
Pike's dark eyes turned to him in swift suspicion.
"What is that?"
"You're under arrest."
Pike stiffened, searching Happy's confident expression, then sweeping the other men with a startled glance. It was a reverse trap. Hap's men had pretended to still be with the militia. The Skipper's secret message had worked. Danny and his two companions realized that Lyshenko's plan was perfect in its simplicity. A few code words at crisis simply switched commands. They wondered how many men in camp were with Happy. So, apparently, did Pike as he faced everyone's guns.
"I'll take that roborg control," said Danny angrily. "Hap, if you were on our side, why didn't you stop that roborg in the ground lock?"
"That was one of Adolf's sneaky surprises," Hap confessed. "Sorry, but anyway your men downstairs are in friendly hands. They simply had to be disarmed before somebody got hurt. And don't forget, we'v
e got the ship."
Pike quickly recovered and backed off slightly. "I wouldn't say so, Happy," he countered ominously. "To use your own phrase, there is one technicality. If I don't report to His Majesty in the next few minutes, he'll have to assume something like this has happened, in which case we'll all be expendable. He'll blast the ship apart. But that's not all." He sneered vengefully at Danny. "Our attack near Ravano's camp was merely a diversion. True, we were out to get the Skipper, which we did, but that was a cover-up. A special detail procured hostages for us. They're in the temple now – the women: Freddie, Lalille and Akala!"
"That's a bluff!" growled Bjornson. "You're a liar!"
"Oh no!" protested Pike in mock innocence. "In fact, here's the proof!"
He reached into his belt satchel and got away with it. As he threw the grenade he ducked into a side passage to escape their guns. But few had time to fire. Danny and Bjornson jerked Poyntner with them into the lift. Hapgood and his men had instinctively rolled across the deck. The blast killed two men and warped the metal walls of the corridor.
Bjornson was the first to charge through the smoke. "The bridge!" he yelled. "Don't let him get to the radio!"
"Hap!" shouted Danny. "Man the stations, get on the inter-com. Find out what's happening at the temple!" Then he was sprinting after Bjornson. He was thinking desperately about the women, even including Tallullah. God only knew what leverage this diabolical new twist might give to madman Alonso if Pike wasn't bluffing. Certainly where he was concerned personally–
He stopped abruptly when he saw the Axe pounding on the compartment hatch. Pike had locked the steel riot door to the bridge. Danny turned, shouldering past Poyntner and several other men.
"Somebody bring up the demo kits!" bellowed Bjornson. "Let's get through this son of a bitch, on the double!"
Suddenly the deck swayed as the ship shuddered under some kind of shock. There was a muffled thunder. Danny didn't wait. He had remembered the maintenance access from the meter room. The lift took him to B-deck and he raced for the narrow companionway. In a matter of moments he was back on A-deck near the staff room and the bridge.
Star Quest Page 25