by Greg Curtis
The second group led by Helos from his prison cell, was scouting the city in much more detail, looking for clues. As such, over a hundred scientists were now in the city, escorted closely by Force officers - the captain it seemed wasn’t taking any more chances with them. He had them recording everything they could find, and then he had more scientists teasing the smallest of clues from what they found. It was a faster method, and one that could give greater insights than Li’s approach, but also one that could easily overlook things.
Writing of course, or any evidence of language was being recorded as quickly as they could find it, and a third group was busy trying to decipher their language. It wasn’t easy as the Calderonians had had a full alphabet of at least forty characters, and there was no one who’d used it in ten thousand years. It was made worse by the fact that many believed that the Calderonians had had no true form of speech - that they were telepathic. Thus the language couldn’t be phonetic. In fact it was an almost impossible task, one that had been attempted before at each of the other cities as they’d been found, and failed.
Meanwhile Daryl, Ryal and Mark were acting as everybody’s assistants, Whenever any of the other groups found anything interesting they were called in with the the bug - and the Sparrow if necessary - to excavate their way down to it. It wasn’t glamorous work by any stretch of the imagination. In fact they were really being treated as unpaid labour. But they had already established it as something they could do safely, and it didn’t require a lot of thinking on Daryl’s part.
So far they’d excavated at least fifteen potential chambers. Ten of them had turned out to be nothing more than natural rock fissures. A couple had been obvious power plants, buried deep under the ground, and were still providing the city with the energy it needed. Force technicians were examining them with interest. They’d never found a properly working one before and these were in perfect condition even after ten thousand years. The other three had been some sort of storage facilities, also deeply buried. But what they’d stored was no longer there, just the endless empty shelves. So far there had been no sign of a computer.
Still, each empty chamber gave Daryl confidence that his theory was on the right path. All of them he noted, had had cunningly concealed access ways cut through to the surface buildings, which even after they had found them were damn near invisible. He suspected though, that a Calderonian would have found them easily. Differences in eyesight or the other senses perhaps, or simply in the way they thought would have made them obvious.
*******************
The rock wall came crumbling down with a small roar, and a cloud of dust quickly obscured everything, making their torches useless. All they could see was the dust illuminated by their beams. But that was completely normal, and in truth, this was one of the more minor dust clouds they’d stirred up with their digging. They just had to wait for the dust to settle.
“Another empty storeroom?”
“Probably.” Daryl was getting used to uncovering them, though in truth he was beginning to wonder why the Calderonians had had so many of them, as they had left nothing behind of what had once been stored in them. It was almost as though they were playing a game with them, showing them treasure map after treasure map, and then stealing the gold from under their noses. Of course, they were ten thousand years departed, and that was simply the nature of xeno-archaeology. But it was getting tiring.
“There’s power.” Mark was right of course, and Daryl could see the twinkle of lights beginning to make themselves visible through the dust. That was at least a positive. Not all of the underground chambers had had power.
“Machinery too.” Ryal’s eyes were sharper than his, but in time Daryl could begin to make out the shapes of table tops and complex devices on top of them, some of them with coloured lights twinkling away. That was new. Daryl’s hopes began to rise as he realised that finally they’d found something important. A machine shop maybe. A science lab possibly. Or maybe even the long since promised and not found computer with the Calderonian’s secrets stored in it. Though it was probably too soon, he stepped over the broken rubble that had once been a rock wall, and into the room itself, eager as he hadn’t been in a very long time.
“You should wait.” It was protocol to wait until they could at least see everything clearly, and then to check out whether there might be any more traps. After all, the last thing he needed was to twist an ankle as he groped his way through the dust. But Daryl couldn’t wait. Instead he stepped into the room, his scanner playing over everything, and strode over to the biggest table in the centre of the chamber, a huge console with lots of twinkling lights on it, and began franticly brushing away the thick layers of dust covering it.
It was a console, and more than that he realised as he brushed away more and more dust, it was working. He could see the lights twinkling, switches waiting to be pushed, and in the very centre of the machine a huge display, something akin to an old time television. What they’d had before holos had become the norm. But more than that, the display was active, and something, a movie maybe, was playing on it. A movie that had been playing for ten thousand years? Or a film that had simply activated the moment it had detected someone in the room. The first option was madness, the second spoke of readiness for something serious. That in turn suggested all sorts of disturbing possibilities.
Realising that it might finally tell him everything he had yet to learn about the Calderonians and their retreat, Daryl ignored the calls of his two comrades as they stayed at the entrance way, and started studying the display intently. He even ignored the constant tickle in his nose and throat from the dust, and tried to breathe evenly.
What it was showing him though, wasn’t what he’d expected. It wasn’t people talking or offering greetings in alien tongues. It wasn’t the schematics for the city. In fact it looked for all the galaxy like a war movie. Plots of ship movements, stellar battlefields, planets and forces at war, alien ships, and hospitals filled with the dead and dying. And then, in one timeless moment, he saw the combatants, and his universe came crashing down around him.
“Oh shit!”
When he finally laid eyes on the enemy, Daryl almost wished he hadn’t. Because the moment he saw it, his brain went into overload. The recorders floating all around him just whirred away happily while he stood there like a deranged imbecile, mouth open and nothing moving. Thoughts that had been crazily spinning around in his mind for far too many months suddenly came together in the most incredible, logical and yet frightening picture.
Incredible because everything that he’d been studying, the attack on New Eden, the Calderonian’s flight and the nature of their city defences, and even the attempt on his life, all suddenly made perfect sense. It was all part of the same incredible interstellar nightmare. Frightening because he knew that now that he’d made the discovery, he also knew that he’d stepped into a trap. A terrible trap, which would kill trillions, and its teeth were already closing. There was only one possible outcome of his find; war. War on a scale not seen in ten thousand years, and perhaps not even then. And war with an enemy that had been quietly amassing its strength for ten thousand years, waiting patiently for one stupid human to take that one step too far. And he’d just walked into it like a particularly stupid ape.
He wanted to do nothing more than stand there and gape for a few years, perhaps cry as he understood the consequences of his idiocy, but he also understood that he had no time. The longer he did nothing, the more chance the enemy would find out what they had discovered, and act. But what to do? And he knew without any chance of being wrong, that there were enemies watching him closely, so that even if he did nothing but waited too long, the trap would spring shut. They had already struck once, now they would have to strike again, and this time not just at him. They were surely on the ship. In their shoes he would have made absolutely sure to infiltrate the Targ. And just maybe they were on other ships nearby. Awaiting that single moment.
He had to do somethi
ng.
Yet what was he to do? Ryal and Mark were also in the chamber with him, standing just behind him, staring down at the display, also seeing the same images, just not yet making the connections. But they would, both of them, and very soon. Mark would instantly recognise the image of New Eden, and maybe some of the other planets, and both would instantly recognise the enemy when they saw him. Though they wouldn’t understand him as such until much later. Maybe too late. And even if they didn’t, soon, very soon, one or both of them would report that it wasn’t just another useless cavern; that they had finally found the computer room. And that would be the signal. Probably from the instant they made a report over an unsecured channel the enemy would know they were busted. And they would act. The enemy, surely long prepared for this moment, would put everything together much faster, and would act decisively. As they had so many times before.
He had to act, Daryl realised, and he had to act quickly. Be faster off the draw than the enemy. Much faster. Throw them off their guard, and not let them ever realise what he’d discovered. At least until they were locked away under heavy guard.
“Out!” He screamed it at the other two as loudly and desperately as he could, making them jump as he suddenly understood he had to keep them off guard for the moment. Until he knew what to do.
“Back to the Sparrow.” They saw him screaming and waving at them like a mad man, and no doubt wondered if he’d lost his sanity. But they at least understood his urgency as he grabbed their arms and started pushing them as hard and fast as he could.
“What -” Even though they knew what he wanted they didn’t know why and he couldn’t tell them. If they hadn’t put it all together already, they would soon, and then they would tell others. Over the radio, when it was surely bugged. They needed a reason to panic and he couldn’t tell them the truth. Not when they might be listening.
“Bomb!” The word, the thought just came to him out of nowhere like a godsend, and he grabbed at it like a drowning man. There was no bomb of course. It was just a ruse to try and get them to move faster and to stop thinking. It was the first thing that had come to mind, but it seemed to work. Bombs they understood, and they didn’t want to die. He could see the sudden shock and fear in their eyes, in their haste to flee, and above all the way they weren’t thinking about anything other then survival. He had his ace, and he suddenly realised he had to play it for all it was worth. It was the only card he had.
As they began running towards the passageway out to the bug, he was immediately calling the others, all the others with the same sad story. He ordered everyone, absolutely everyone off the planet as fast as they could run, telling them that he didn’t even know how long they had before the planet itself self destructed. He even ordered the Targ to make preparation for immediate departure. The sun could go nova. The idea just kept growing like the imaginary bomb itself, and he used it, covering the impossibility with his passion.
He wasn’t sure that they believed him, that anyone believed him. After all the very idea was too ridiculous for words. But they also knew that this city was ancient, and its people apparently were more advanced than they had realised. And they knew that he was always one of the first to spot traps, especially Calderonian traps. It was what he did. He might never be a scientist of standing among them, but he would always be known as a trap spotter and tactician, and if he yelled bomb they would run.
By the time the bug was racing up and out of the tunnel he could see others running for the closer shuttles, and knew that at least some were taking his warning seriously. But were all of them? Was the Targ preparing for immediate departure? Was everyone panicking? And that was more important still. He had to keep the enemy off guard, afraid. Later he was going to ask the captain to damn near strip the ships engines as they raced back. The Community had to know, and know fast. The Force had to be ready. But first they had to stop the enemy on the Targ.
“What -” That was as far as he allowed Mark to get. He didn’t have time to try and justify his lies. The longer they waited, the longer the enemy had to strike. Daryl just screamed at him, telling him to put his foot down and when he didn’t put it down far enough, stood on the pedal itself. He needed him to be afraid. So afraid he didn’t ask questions or tell anybody anything about what they’d found. So afraid he wasn’t thinking properly. He needed him to be as frightened as he was.
They made the waiting Sparrow in under two minutes at a guess, and even as the bug was still being lifted in to its bay, the ship was lifting off. Other shuttles were already ahead of them as they made their insane dash for safety, and he could see many more on the ground running for the Ocelot which was already firing up its engines. One thing about it, they were properly frightened. And if they were scared, then hopefully so too were any of the enemy who might be on the ship. And if they were properly terrified for their lives, they wouldn’t be planning mass destruction.
“Mark, Ryal.” He grabbed them before they made the door out of the bug. At least in the bug he had a hope they weren’t being spied on. Or that if they were, the enemy wasn’t paying any attention as he too surely tried to flee.
“I don’t know what you saw down there, and I know you’re not sure you believe there’s a bomb, but there’s one thing that I absolutely need you to do. Until the Captain himself or me tells you it’s okay, I don’t want you saying anything about what was down there to anybody. No reports. No conversation to the crew. Not even dictating things into a computer. Nothing. All our lives are at stake, and countless others. We’re being watched closely by an enemy. An incredibly ancient and powerful enemy who we’ve never even realised existed, and some of whose agents are surely on board the Targ. The tiniest of mistakes, even a whisper getting back to them that any of us know about them, and the Targ could well be destroyed and the entire Community thrown into war. A war we would all probably lose.”
“But as long as the enemy believes there’s a danger that the Targ itself could be destroyed with their own people included among its victims, they will hopefully be off guard. Panicking. Probably trying to get off the ship. Too busy trying to save their own skins to check on us - on me. We absolutely need that to continue until we can catch them and stop them. I’m begging you on the lives of all our families, friends, everyone and everything we’ve ever known, say absolutely nothing to anybody or anything. Don’t even discuss it among yourselves, the ship may well be bugged.”
He wasn’t sure they believed him and he couldn’t blame them. In their shoes he would have assumed he’d gone mad. But at least they nodded. He’d earned enough trust for that. The two of them quickly made their way out of the bug, and headed for the Sparrow’s bridge looking more than a little confused and worried, but he didn’t. Instead he went to the back part of the bug, locked the door behind him, and called the Captain. But even before he could open his mouth to ask the obvious questions Daryl cut him off and demanded a secured line. What he was going to tell the Captain, he could not allow to get back to anyone else.
Once that was done by an already grumbling captain, Daryl ran rough shod over him again. There was only one thing he needed to know. One thing that needed to be done. And immediately.
“Captain, are there any Kaiwhare on board?” It was surely the last thing the captain had expected to hear, and for a while Daryl fancied he was actually caught off guard by the question. If so it would surely be the first time ever. But even if he was, it was only for a second as he quickly informed him that there were two. Two junior officers, no scientists. The computers were lightning fast and the captain not far behind.
Only two. Daryl almost dared to breathe a sigh of relief. Almost. But two was still two too many. The stars alone knew what plans they’d prepared while no one had even suspected them.
He then ordered the captain, something he suspected he would be getting back in the neck as no one ordered a captain about on his own ship, to arrest them, and without delay. More, he ordered him to do it fast and secretly. The crewmen cou
ld be given no warning. No chance to get to a transmitter or a device. And he suspected they would both have planted devices around the ship in case of capture. If possible, he wanted them to be unconscious before they even knew they were being arrested, or at least unable to move. The tangle fields he knew from personal experience, could do that well.
Once arrested, he asked for them to be stripped and scanned as thoroughly as they knew how. To look for high tech devices and remove them as fast as possible. If they couldn’t remove them all, they had to be kept unconscious. Several times the captain tried to interrupt, to find out what was going on, but all Daryl could tell him was that it had to be done. The fate of the entire Interstellar Community was in his hands. It was utterly true yet it sounded so melodramatic, and he couldn’t even imagine what it sounded like to the Myran through his translator. But for some reason it seemed to be enough for the captain.