The drawings showed creatures, much taller than the humans bowing before them. It depicted the aliens bestowing gifts and killing people. They were gods in the eyes of the humans who had made the drawings and now Nova had a chance to meet them.
But the bodies all around her feet said everything she needed to know. These were not the gift-giving kind.
Nova grimaced. "Observe and gather."
She blinked the cave drawings away and focused on the aliens. Sleek ships formed, along with long black barrels attached to hand-held triggers and cannons the size of cars.
The biggest of the aliens yelled but didn't do any of the work while the rest scurried across the desert and down into the tombs. They returned with metal plates and other tools piled high in their arms which they deposited on the sand.
It was as if the aliens had come out of hibernation with a plan already formed. They were just acting out the final parts of some kind of rehearsed play. Nova's stomach churned at thoughts of the finale.
The weapons were a good hint to how the story would end. Whatever the aliens used to be, they weren't peace-bringing planet-founders any more. They were destroyers, if the dead bodies scattered across the planet were anything to go by. The only thing Nova could do was work out how to stop them before they repaired their ships and weaponry otherwise there was no way she could stop them, and as far she knew, neither could anyone else in the human galaxies.
"How were they stopped before?" she asked herself.
She thought back on every piece of history, every scrap of research she'd ever done. She ran back over all the papers she'd read that theorized the existence of the Ancients. In all of them, one thing was certain; at some point in time, the Ancients vanished without a trace.
How?
Nova's mind whizzed around in circles. There must have been some clue left over; some hint as to what happened. The creatures she saw before her wouldn't lock themselves away, not without a fight. So, why had they been trapped inside a planet?
Perhaps if she got a different view…
Nova bent low and scurried from her hiding place to the next ship; a green racer. She stopped and strained her ears, no sounds of discovery.
She drew a deep breath and dashed for the next ship; a Confederacy service vehicle, but her foot caught on something solid buried in the sand and she hurtled forward. She landed on her stomach and grains of sand flicked into her eyes and ground between her teeth.
She snapped her mouth shut to stop a yelp and glanced back. She'd tripped over a body. A bloody hand protruded out from the sand, as if reaching for something.
Nova backed away from the corpse until her back pressed against the service vehicle. She buried her boots into the sand and scraped them back and forth but the feel of the body against her legs wouldn't go away.
Crystals of sands scraped her eyes and made them sting. She rubbed, managed to brush the grains free.
She stayed sitting on the sand; she was tired, mentally and physically. Her thoughts circled around her grumbling stomach and the pain throbbing from different parts of her body. There was no way she could even think about defeating an ancient alien race at that moment. She needed to go back to Crusader and work out her next move from there.
She used the ships as cover and ran up the hill, away from the trees. The sounds of the Ancients carried on the wind. At the top of the hill she looked back.
Metal weapons and ships reflected the light of the two moons; the little circle of activity was lit up like a stadium while the rest of the desert was dark and silent.
Nova turned and raced across the sand. The cool desert wind steeled her nerves and let her think. By the time she got to Crusader she felt more rested than she would have if she'd fallen asleep behind a toppled spaceship.
Everything inside Crusader was just as she had left it. That struck her as odd. After everything she'd seen, the world should have changed. Something should have shifted, some kind of mark of the massive event. There was nothing. As far as the universe was concerned, or at least Crusader, nothing had happened.
"Today has been… interesting," Cal said, as the door slid shut behind Nova.
"Yes."
The robot's tone was cautious, confused. No doubt Cal's internal simulation software had not predicted the return of the Ancients.
"Crusader's engines refuse to take off," Cal said.
"Crusader, diagnose problem," Nova said.
"Diagnostics show no problem; however I am still unable to take off."
"It's probably a form of force-field," Cal said.
"They're trying to keep us here?" Nova said.
"There is no evidence that they know we survived. It is probably a safety precaution to prevent survivors from warning others."
"That's a lot of planning."
"Preparing for possible outcomes," Cal said, as if he would expect nothing less.
"I need to eat and think about this."
"The usual?"
"Please."
They moved through Crusader, to the dining pod. Nova pulled the folded bench down from the wall. It locked into place and she slumped down, resting her elbows on the table and head in her hands. She stared down at the patterns on the table, her eyes tracing each tiny bump and groove.
"Chicken and chips," Cal said, when the food generator dinged.
Cal hovered to her, the pincer at the end of his thin arm clutched a plate piled high with steaming chips. He placed it before her and produced a knife and fork from one of his many compartments. He handed them to Nova and then hovered away toward the command pod. The robot didn't usually fetch Nova's dinner, but just for today, she was happy to let Cal do it.
She shoveled hunks of spiced chicken and hot chips into her mouth. The salty taste was heaven on her deprived tongue. Every mouthful gave her more energy. Strength returned to her abused muscles and the stress of the day faded away. Warmth spread from her stomach and encompassed the rest of her body until finally, she laid down her cutlery and leaned back in her chair.
Nova allowed her eyes to slip closed and her mind to wander. Her thoughts raced with what she'd seen. The writing she'd translated, the massive shock-wave, and the strange species.
First encounters with a new species of sentient aliens were rare. Very few had occurred in the history of the human colonies. Nova's stomach churned with both excitement and terror that she was lucky enough to be here. Her imagination soared with the possibilities. If she could get to know them, to speak their language, who knew what secrets and technology they held?
"If they wanted to exchange ideas," Cal said, picking up on some of Nova's thoughts through her chip. "Why would they send out a shock-wave to kill all life on this planet?"
She frowned. His words sent her thoughts back to the scenes of the desert. The toppled ships and torn bodies replayed in her mind. "I don't know."
"I'm just saying, if they were a peaceful species, they wouldn't have started with that," Cal said.
"Maybe they had a bad experience when they went in and they were making sure the same threat wasn't here?"
"That sounds unlikely."
"I suppose it takes a special kind of species to decorate their tombs with promises of taking over the universe."
"Exactly."
"Well I'm not going to go in there with guns blazing. I don't want to be the one that starts a war."
"Shouldn't Doctor Codon be introducing the human species?" Cal said. "He is in more of an official position than you."
"You heard him," Nova said. "The Doctor would rather leave the planet and find one of his superiors to do it."
"I don't think we'll have that much time."
"Yeah, plus he's as stranded as us."
"I have a bad feeling about this."
"You're a robot," Nova said. "You're not supposed to get feelings."
"I can if all of the available data points to a poor outcome," Cal said, collecting her empty plate and disappearing around the corner.
She g
runted and went back to staring at the table. She knew her body was exhausted, that she should probably rest, but how could she? There was no way to know how long she had before the Ancients had ships, and were on their way to the human colonies.
Her mind bounced back and forth from one course of action to another. She had to sleep; it was the only way to get her head back in the game. Six hours would be enough to get her body back into working order and mind straight. If the Ancients managed to make lift-off before then, well there wasn't much she could do.
She pushed herself up from the table and trudged to her sleeping pod. She collapsed onto her bed.
"You're covered in sand," Cal said. His voice ripped Nova out of her near-sleep.
"I know."
"You should shower before going to bed."
"But I'm so tired."
"I have to clean your sheets."
"What do you mean clean them?" she said. "You pick them up and throw them into this shoot."
She held out her hand and tapped a rectangular panel next to her bed. It led down underneath her bed to where Crusader's more mechanical parts did their work. The sheets would be cleaned, dried and then sent back up to a shelf next to her bed.
"Well, it's annoying," Cal said.
"Again," Nova said. "You're a robot. Things aren't supposed to be annoying; you're just supposed to do them."
"Ah but you're forgetting something very important," Cal said.
"What?"
"I'm a very special robot."
Cal chuckled, hovering out of Nova's reach.
She groaned and swiped her hand after him, far too slow. She glanced down at her bed; there were already grains of sand spread across the sheets.
"Damned robot."
CHAPTER TEN
Nova awoke to Cal prodding her arm. His metal pincer jabbed her forearm until she threw off the blanket and sat up. She glanced at the neon blue clock, six hours exactly.
"Morning," he said.
Nova scowled. She'd been having the nicest dream about a calm beach with no foreign aliens or dead bodies. Back to reality. Her stomach rumbled.
She went straight for the food-generator.
"Porridge."
The machine whirred and one minute later, it dinged. She opened the door to reveal a steaming bowl, complete with a coating of sugar.
"Nova, we have a problem," Cal said, hovering in from the pilot's pod.
She groaned. "What now?"
"They're about to test a weapon."
"What?"
"It looks dangerous."
She frowned and carried her bowl of porridge into the pilot's pod. A video feed of the oasis and the Ancients filled Crusader's front screen. Gray lines of static roved across the screen and a loud buzzing drone overlaid the audio feed.
"How are you getting that footage?" Nova asked.
"We hacked into some of the cameras from the fallen ships. With no one on-board, security is minimal."
"Why is it dark?"
"With the planet's current orbital position, the day and night cycle aren't consistent," Cal said. "My sensors suggest there will still be three more hours of darkness."
Raised voices drew Nova's attention back to the screen where three Ancients stood around a metal cylinder the size of full-grown man. They gestured to the cylinder and spoke to one another, then the biggest of them nodded once and stepped back, almost to the line of trees.
The smaller creatures propped the metal cylinder upright in the sand.
"What are they pointing at?" Nova said.
A second video feed opened on Crusader's front screen, it showed the sky and the small red moon. The image tilted to one side; the camera feed had to be from a toppled ship.
"Based on the angle of trajectory, they're pointing at the moon," Cal said.
The faint crimson glow reflected off of the metal cylinder and bathed the surrounding ground in red.
The two Ancients holding the cylinder bickered back and forth and then one slammed his armored fist down on a raised red button. He sprinted away from the device, toward the trees. The other gaped at the cylinder in its hands and then hurtled after its companion, snatching its ankles and scrambling over its back. Grunts and shouts crackled over the audio channel.
The fallen Ancient sunk deep into the sand and struggled to get up, like a turtle on its back. Its head flicked between the device, and then at the other Ancients, safely in the cover of the trees.
Nova's fingers clenched around her spoon, something tightened in her throat. What could scare the Ancients like that?
A booming explosion echoed through Nova's command pod and into every crevice of Crusader, blowing out some of the speakers.
Nova ducked, and covered her head with her hands. She waited for the inevitable rain of shrapnel, but nothing happened. She unclenched her arms and stood on shaky legs.
The cylinder stood in the sand surrounded by a crater of gouged sand. A splash of red on the sand marked where the Ancient had fallen over. Pieces of black armor dotted the ground around the crater, intermixed with chunks of raw flesh.
The device glowed red-hot, almost white and nearby sand melted into chunks of glass.
Nova's mouth hung open.
The aliens chattered to one another, gestured and pointed to the sky.
Nova's gaze traced across to the second video feed. The red glow from the moon was gone. All that remained was a gaping piece of space with nothing in it.
"What—?" Nova's voice caught in her throat. "They destroyed a moon, just like that?"
"Worse," Cal said. "According to Crusader's readings, they turned it into a black-hole."
"They what?"
"The energy from the gun compacted the moon into a mini black-hole. It lasted only a fraction of a second, but it was there."
"No."
"Yes. Oh dear, this is bad. Tiny black-holes lose their energy almost as soon as they're formed. Your eyes wouldn't have detected it, but the scanning equipment did." Cal flew in tight circles around the command pod.
Nova's mouth flapped but no words came out. Such technology was impossible, and yet there it was. The hairs on Nova's neck stood on end, poised and waiting.
Her hands gripped the metal control panel, her spoon lay forgotten on the floor like the porridge at her side. It could get cold, go moldy and grow its own ecosystem and she still wouldn't have noticed. It was too much. There was no way she could convince them to be peaceful. She had nothing to bargain with. It was a wonder the Ancients hadn't detected her already and shot her into a cosmic crap hole.
"I think this further supports my earlier bad feeling," Cal said.
"Yep," she whispered.
"Crusader," Cal said, "Try to leave again."
The engines rumbled underneath their feet but nothing happened. "We're still constrained here," Crusader said.
"I have to go out there," Nova said.
"No," Cal said. "They'll take one look at you and squash you like a bug."
"What else can I do? It would be pointless for me to go in waving my gun around."
"There are no viable simulations."
"Right, so you've got no ideas either."
"They're doing something else," Cal said.
Nova returned her attention to the front screen. Hunger fled from her stomach and her bowl of porridge looked like congealed sludge.
She had to do something, perhaps if she found a way to get Crusader off the ground then they could fly away and never look back. But they'd tried everything, and even if she did somehow make it back into space, creatures with the power to create black-holes could outrun anything.
Nova took a deep breath. She knew that her weapons would be useless against the creatures, at least while they had their armor on, and they didn't seem prone to taking it off. So that left her with only one option; their weapons.
Loud voices signaled another demonstration. The Ancients gathered in an armored semi-circle. One wielded a long black gun, the same length but much thick
er than the rifles Nova was used to.
Nova leaned in close to the screen. She had to know exactly how to use that gun. There wouldn't be any time for practice shots.
The Ancient lifted the weapon to its shoulder, aimed, then fired. The gun kicked, sending the armored beast three paces back. There was no evidence of a gun blast or plasma bullet; no bright spark or streak of lightning but the tree collapsed on itself like a cardboard box. Every limb, branch and leaf took a mighty heave and fell inward.
The impossibility of it all hit Nova like a slap to the face.
The biggest Ancient, the leader, marched to where the tree had been and bent down to something in the dirt. He heaved it up and held it aloft. His arm shook. To Nova, it looked like he clutched a tiny cube.
The creature tossed the cube toward the other Ancients. It didn't soar, as Nova would have expected, instead it fell far short and when it hit the ground a wave of sand shot up, leaving a car-sized crater with the cube nestled at the very bottom.
"What—?"
"It's some kind of compression device," Cal said. "It compacted every atom of that tree into a tiny cube. No wonder it weighs so much."
Nova clenched her teeth and stared at the static-filled screen. Her stomach rolled, bile rising to the back of her throat. Cold gripped her heart and spread through her body.
She had to get hold of the gun. With a weapon like that, maybe she could protect the universe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Ancients left the compression rifle against the cannon and went to work on other things. Both gleamed in the light from the remaining moon.
Nova licked her lips; she wouldn't have long. She had to grab the gun, and tell them to back down or be killed. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was the best she could do, given the circumstances. The last thing she wanted to do was wait. The longer she took, the more weapons and power they would have. Better to take them out now, when they were still waking up.
The Ancients scurried around what looked like a massive ship but with lots of parts missing. The bigger Ancient, the leader, stood near them and shouted orders. None of them paid the rifle or the cannon any attention, no doubt they thought the rest of the planet was dead.
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