Peacekeeper Pathogen (Galactic Alliance Book 6)

by Doug Farren

  “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with us,” Tom told him. “Let’s go.”

  “I have one more question,” Lashpa said as they began filing out of the conference room. “Should we tell the Mowry that they’ve been genetically modified?”

  “I’m not sure they would understand the concept,” Flothir said.

  “They already believe the gods created them,” Tom said, downing the remainder of his coffee. “They began questioning where these gods came from as soon the Purists arrived. I think they should know the truth.”

  “How are you getting to the city?” Flothir asked. “It’s pouring out there.”

  “We have transportation,” Lashpa told him.

  Outside, the rain was coming down hard, creating a constant hissing noise that seemed to reverberate off the Orion’s hull. It was running off the edge of the ship like a waterfall. A near constant rumble of distant thunder added to the sounds of the storm. Under the protection of the ship, the group boarded the tricycles. Flothir shared Tom’s while Lashpa climbed into her own. After closing the clear bubbles they headed for the city.

  Chapter 16

  As soon as Tom and Lashpa arrived at King Syan’s office, they were escorted to the conference room where an expansive selection of pastries, fruits, vegetables, and drinks were laid out a large table.

  “I’ve sent for the local representative of the Voice of the Gods,” King Syan told them as soon as they were situated around the table. “I want her to be here when you tell me what you found on the Mountain of the Gods.”

  “Who is the Voice of the Gods?” Tom asked.

  “She’s the one who ensures we are prepared in case the Star Gods decide to return,” King Syan explained. “She’s the keeper of all our knowledge of the gods and artifacts they left here.”

  “Artifacts?” Flothir asked, pulling a long yellow vegetable out of his mouth. Tom wondered if he would have said something even after he’d taken a bite. “You have artifacts?”

  “A few have been recovered and preserved over the years,” King Syan said. “The cursed ones took many before they left but the Voice of the Gods and her assistants hid what was left after we learned they were not the Star Gods.”

  “Wait a minute,” Tom said, setting a blue drink that tasted a lot like grapefruit down on the table. “Did the Purists try to claim they were the gods—the same gods that created you?”

  “They did, but most of us quickly realized they were lying. Some of those who believed the gods had returned must have told them about the artifacts. The Purists took them.”

  “I’m sure the Purists didn’t know your language when they first arrived,” Lashpa said. “How is it they were able to convince some that they were your creators?”

  “When they first arrived,” King Syan replied, “they built a small fortress about 75 kilometers from here. We sent representatives to find out if they were the returning gods but we were unable to get close to them. A strange silver wall kept us away.”

  “Force field,” Tom said.

  “Shortly after their arrival, we received reports that several people had been taken. A quarter season later, the wall disappeared and the Purists claimed they were the Star Gods.”

  “Where are these artifacts now?” Flothir asked.

  “The Voice of the Gods has hidden them away. Only her most trusted helpers know where. Since we know you to be honest people, I believe she will let you see them.”

  “See what?” a voice said from the doorway.

  Everyone turned around. King Syan got up and walked over to the new arrival. He reached out and touched the side of her face with his fingertips, pulled his arm back, and touched the side of his own face. “Thank you for coming,” he said, in his own language. Turning to the rest of the group, he switched to Galactic Standard and said, “This is Frenia Matenue, our representative of the Voice of the Gods.”

  After the introductions were made, King Syan said, “Peacekeeper Wilks and Peacekeeper Krish have been to the top of the Mountain of the Gods. Unlike the cursed ones, they’ve promised to share their knowledge with us. I wanted you to be here when they tell us what they found.”

  “Before we begin,” Tom said, “Can you explain to us exactly what purpose is served by having a Voice of the Gods?”

  Frenia followed King Syan over to the table and selected a piece of hard-baked pastry. She took a small bite, then replied, “The Star Gods are very demanding concerning how we should act in their presence. When they return, we must be prepared to accept our place as their servants and act accordingly. It is the duty of the Voice of the Gods to teach the people how to behave if the Star Gods return.”

  “Do you actually believe they will?” Flothir asked.

  “I thought the Mowry would no longer submit to being servants,” Tom added.

  “We hope they do not,” Frenia said. “But we are not strong enough to resist them if they do and we must resume our roll as their servants if they return. They are our creators and they have the power to bring upon us the death of a thousand howling pains.”

  “The people of the Alliance have promised to protect your world,” Lashpa said. “I doubt these Star Gods will ever return but if they do, we’ll protect you.”

  “They are the most powerful beings in the universe,” Frenia said, raising her chin slightly. “If they want to return, you would not be able to stand in their way.”

  “What did you mean by the death by a thousand howling pains?” Flothir asked.

  “It’s a punishment from the Star Gods,” Frenia replied. “It kills a person slowly, over many days, by inflicting unstoppable pain.”

  Tom looked at Lashpa and found her looking back at him. There was no need to say anything.

  “Do your people still suffer from this death of a thousand howling pains?” Flothir asked.

  “Occasionally, yes. It’s proof that the gods are still watching us.”

  Switching to English, Tom looked at Lashpa and asked, “Should we tell them the truth about T11-N106? Is that considered interfering with their religion?”

  Switching off her translator, Lashpa replied, “It could be, but as their science continues to improve they’ll eventually discover the truth. I see no harm in telling them now. Krish, Orion—any objections?”

  “No objections,” a voice representing both ships said in Tom’s and Lashpa’s ears.

  Switching back to Galactic Standard, Tom said, “What you call the death of a thousand howling pains is caused by a tiny organism we’ve named T11-N106. It was apparently created by the Gwon, or, as you call them, the Star Gods, as a way of controlling your people. We’re working on a way to neutralize it. If one is found, we’ll share it with you.”

  “It doesn’t matter what causes it,” Frenia said. “The fact that the Star Gods created it is proof for me that they are indeed a very powerful people.”

  “Would it be possible for us to see some of these artifacts?” Flothir asked. “Unlike the Purists, we will not take them from you.”

  “Flothir,” Tom said in a warning tone.

  “The decision is not mine to make,” Frenia replied before Tom could continue. “The Voice of the Gods is the only one who can grant you permission to see the artifacts.”

  “You’ve seen how different the people of the Alliance are compared to the cursed ones,” King Syan said. “I’ve come to trust them. They’ve given us a great deal of help without trying to alter our way of life. And, they’ve made it clear that if we ask them to leave, they will do so. I believe the Voice of the Gods should allow them to see the artifacts.”

  “I will send word to her and ask,” Frenia said. “It will take some time to get an answer though as the distance is great.”

  “How about if we take you there ourselves?” Flothir asked.

  “Biomaster Flothir!” Tom said, speaking a bit louder than he needed to. When he saw he had the biomaster’s attention, he said, “We must focus on the pathogen. I agree that it would be very in
teresting to see these artifacts, but that’s something that should be left to the archeologists.”

  “Please,” Frenia said, putting herself between Flothir and Tom. “I would like to hear what you found at the top of the Mountain of the Gods.”

  Tom and Lashpa launched into a short description of the facility they had explored as well as what happened to them while they were there. King Syan and Frenia listened intently, occasionally stopping them to ask for additional information.

  “I must tell the Voice of the Gods what has been discovered,” Frenia said after Tom and Lashpa finished. “If there’s a way you can take me to her, I would be more than happy to argue your case for seeing the artifacts.”

  “Tom,” Flothir said, “You and Lashpa are stuck here because of the quarantine. Speaking directly to the Voice of the Gods might give us additional information concerning T11-N106. From what you’ve told me, the facility on the top of the Mountain of the Gods has been stripped of all useful information. Until we can find something leading us to where the Purists took the equipment that was most likely there I don’t see what else we can do.”

  “Why are you so interested in these artifacts?” Lashpa asked.

  “I’ve dedicated my life to being a biomaster,” Flothir replied. “But that doesn’t prevent me from having other interests. I firmly believe that most life in our sector of the galaxy can be traced back to an ancient common beginning. Anything related to long-dead societies interests me, especially one that we’ve learned were experts in biotechnology. Please, let me go.”

  “He’s right,” Lashpa said, before Tom could object. “Even though we can leave, where would we go? This is where T11-N106 originated. We may as well get as much information as we can.”

  “We know the Purists broke into that facility,” Tom argued. “If it were up to me, we’d be heading to Safa right now.”

  “And what would you do when you got there?” Lashpa asked.

  “I’d lock down their entire planet and search every inch of it if I had to!” Tom said, getting up so he could pace the room. “Somewhere out there,” he continued, waving his hand in the air, “the Purists have a biotech lab trying to unlock the key to activate T11-N106. If they succeed, they’ll be in possession of a terror weapon that could bring the Alliance to its knees. It’s our job to find it and so far, we’ve been doing a lousy job.”

  “I disagree,” Lashpa said. “We’ve found the source and now it’s time to learn everything we can about it while we’re here. I know you like to be in the thick of things, but we simply don’t have enough information at the moment.”

  Tom took in a deep breath and blew it out in a loud puff. “You’re right, and I know it. Turning to Frenia, he said, “I’ll take you to the Voice of the Gods. When would you like to leave?”

  “Provided we can return tonight, I can leave now,” she replied.

  “Lashpa,” Tom asked, laying a hand on her back. “You are my voice of reason, thank you. Are you joining our party?”

  “I’ll remain here,” she replied. “A structural engineer from the Churva will be by later today to survey the damage Krish sustained. There’s a good chance he can at least be made spaceworthy. I also need to supervise the movement of my food to the Churva.”

  Twenty minutes later, Tom, Frenia, and Flothir settled into the Orion’s conference room as the ship took off.

  “I’m curious,” Flothir said. “What were the Purists doing here in the first place?”

  “They were using Gwon-Go as a base of operations while they built a fleet they later used against Earth,” Tom explained. “The Mowry provided them with food and slave labor.”

  “So what was the purpose of the building King Syan now occupies?”

  “He said it was some sort of administration building,” Tom replied.

  “Administering what?” Flothir asked.

  “The …” Tom suddenly stopped talking because he could not come up with an explanation as to why the Purists would go to the trouble of erecting a building in the middle of a Mowry city. They had already established a base of operations in several locations and those bases would only need to be supplied with food and water by the Mowry.

  “You know,” he said after a moment of reflection, “I don’t know. When you think about it, it doesn’t make much sense. Frenia?”

  “We were all required to be registered,” Frenia replied. “We came to the administration building to do so.”

  “Registered? For what?” Flothir asked.

  “They didn’t tell us,” Frenia said. “They asked us a lot of questions, took a sample of our blood, and then gave us a card we were to carry at all times. After a while, those who could not produce a card when asked to do so were arrested. Most, we never saw again.”

  “What sort of questions?” Tom asked.

  “Where we lived, how much land we owned, who were our parents, grandparents, and children. They also asked if anyone in our family had come down with the death of a thousand howling pains or had become a dirt eater. They- - -”

  “What’s a dirt eater?” Flothir interrupted, an act that was considered exceptionally rude in Omel culture.

  “It’s a very rare disease,” Frenia replied. “Those who are afflicted have an insatiable craving to eat dirt. They also develop a large bump on their side that becomes very hard. The skin around it eventually cracks and begins to ooze a thick, gritty, yellow liquid. We’ve tried cutting it out but it always returns. Dirt eaters usually die within a few months.”

  “What happens if you stop a dirt eater from eating dirt?” Flothir asked. Tom could tell by the tone of his voice that he was onto something important.

  “Their hair falls out, their nails split and bleed, and they become angry at everything. I’m not a doctor though,” she said, showing the palms of her hands. “You should be asking a doctor such questions.”

  Flothir stood up and looked around the room. For a moment, Tom thought he was going to go into a panic. “What’s wrong?” Tom asked.

  “I need to send a message to the Churva,” he said, speaking rapidly. He turned and stared at Tom, his eyes wide with excitement. “It’s the Mowry!” he practically shouted. “They’re the source!”

  Chapter 17

  “So that’s what the cells and the simple operating rooms were for,” Lashpa concluded after hearing Tom’s explanation of Flothir’s discovery. “The Gwon were using the Mowry as living bio-factories—harvesting the pathogen from them. Does Frenia know?”

  “I couldn’t get Flothir to shut up about it,” Tom replied. “He was talking pretty fast, but I’m sure she understands Standard well enough to have understood what he was talking about. I left her in the conference room so I could talk to you.”

  “Where’s Flothir now?”

  “In my stateroom talking to the Churva.”

  “Do you think the Purists knew?”

  “I’m certain of it,” Tom said, rubbing the back of his metallic head. “They were here for a long time and the questions they were asking were too pointed to be coincidence. They were trying to see if there was a family history of this dirt-eating disease. Probably looking for a trigger to start the production process.”

  “Unfortunately, we’re no closer to finding out the location of the Purist research facility,” Lashpa pointed out.

  “Not yet,” Tom said. “How’s the Krish?”

  “The landing strut is damaged beyond repair,” Lashpa said. “It will hold the weight of the ship but it will not retract. All of the armor over the forward section of the ship will have to be replaced. The Churva is sending down enough metal plating and a couple of welding robots to seal the damage. By the time you get back, Krish will be air-tight and I’ll be able to return with him to a shipyard.”

  “That’s good news. We’ll be landing soon. I’ll have the Orion let you know when we’re heading back.”

  “Thank you. Lashpa out.”

  Instead of returning to the conference room, Tom decided to remain
in the control center until the ship was on the ground. He had a lot to think about.

  * * * * *

  The Voice of the Gods lived in an ancient stone structure on the top of a hill overlooking a large city. Frenia explained that according to ancient legend, the Star Gods once lived there. The Mountain of the Gods could clearly be seen to the north. As they approached the structure, Tom noticed that a good third of it lay in ruin. The closer they got, the more he could tell that the building had once been a magnificent structure with tall spires, large windows, and huge arched doorways. Now, it looked drab and in need of repair.

  An assistant greeted them at the entrance and ushered them into a large room with several comfortable chairs set around a heavy wooden table. Lighting was provided by small gas lamps attached to the wall at regular intervals. A few minutes later, a group of people arrived carrying several trays filled with an assortment of food and pitchers of drinks. Tom and Flothir were invited to eat while Frenia was led away to speak to the Voice of the Gods privately.

  “These people sure know how to eat!” Flothir said, picking up a piece of dried meat.

  “It’s customary for guests to eat while visiting,” Tom replied. “My guess is it’s a sign of bounty.”

  Tom could tell that Flothir wanted to say something but he had already taken a bite of the tough meat and was vigorously chewing on it.

  “I find it hard to believe that this place was built by the Gwon,” Tom said, looking around the room.

  Flothir struggled to swallow, wiped his mouth, and said, “I was having the same thought. From the looks of the place, it hasn’t been maintained very well either.”

  Tom picked up what looked like a small cube of cheese, gave it a sniff, then popped it into his mouth. After a moment, he decided he liked the taste, grabbed a few more, then began wandering around the room. Scanning the walls with his enhanced vision, he could find nothing to indicate that the building had been constructed using modern tools. A few minutes later, he heard the echo of approaching footsteps.

  “I’m convinced this was not built by the Gwon,” Tom told Flothir as he returned to the table.