by T. R. Harris
“There is the possibility,” Lila answered for Panur. “However, there can be no guarantees, and especially with Panur’s weakened condition. He will need time to recover before we would dare attempt the procedure. If the process begins, he needs to be able to gauge Summer’s strength so he can abort if need be.”
“When will you know?” Monty asked.
“I will need several days, maybe even a month, before my system regains balance,” Panur said. “In the meantime, we will continue to monitor Summer for the inevitable transition she will go through.”
“What transition?” Summer asked.
Panur looked at Summer “Your body’s adaptation to what it has experienced. It is what will give you the ability to endure the extraction process. But there will be more.”
“What do you mean more? More of what?”
“Your long-term response is unknown at this time. Adam had my cells in his body much longer, giving his system more time to adapt. You had many more cells, but for a shorter period. Adam gained strength, durability and a slight rise in his mental capacity—very slight.” Panur grinned at his joke. Adam could tell he was feeling better. “I will be curious to see how much your body retains. Only time will be the determinant.”
“So we sit and wait?” Monty almost shouted. “That’s a bunch of bullshit.”
“The other option,” Lila began, “is for Panur to attempt the extraction and find that Summer’s body still cannot withstand the ordeal. In that case, she would die unless Panur is well enough to monitor the process and abort if necessary. Acting prematurely could have severe consequences.”
Monty slumped in his chair as Summer placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
“Relax, dad; we’ll get through this.” Summer looked around the table. “Besides, I don’t think you have much need for me at the moment. Everyone wants J’nae. Fine, I’ll just sit in the background and keep my mouth shut.”
What emotion was on Summer’s face suddenly vanished as J’nae was brought to the surface. Monty withdrew his arm, knowing it was no longer his Human daughter touching him, but, instead, some alien freak that could survive as a vial of green liquid before invading the body of an unsuspecting innocent.
“And now the question at hand: How do we recover the Formation?” It was J’nae speaking.
“That’s a good question,” Adam said. “But the good news is we have time. That’s a rarity in our line of work. The Luz have to find somewhere to build the framework for the Formation, then begin the process of creating more Luz. And how fast can they do that? Do they make a bunch of embryos and then grow them in Petri dishes? Then once they have enough mature adults, they have to start mating and grow a massive population. That will take generations. Also, they haven’t said anything about the Formation code device. We still have that. How are they going to do anything with the Formation without knowing the various stacking orders? The Luz may have ambitious plans, but they can’t be in a hurry. And if they expect us just to sit back and do nothing in all that time, they have another think coming.”
“The Masters are the product of the Formation,” Panur said. “I would imagine if they needed the Formation code device, they would have included that in their negotiations. The fact that they didn’t tells me they don’t need it.”
Panur looked at Lila, noticing her brow was furrowed and her eyes intense and unblinking.
“Is something troubling you, Lila?” Panur asked. “You have a different opinion about the Formation code?”
“No, that is not it,” she replied. “There was a particular statement I heard when the Masters did not know I could read their thoughts. It could be a clue as to their ultimate use of the Formation.”
“What was it?”
“The being known as Panof made a statement when they were discussing the fact that I am the Apex Being and what importance I could be to them. He said: This would be true if we intended to use the Formation in the traditional manner. But for our purposes, a biologic is not necessary. I found that remark to be inconsistent with our speculation as to their intended use.”
“What did he mean, the traditional manner?” Mike Hannon asked. He was still tagging along with the team, much to Sherri’s chagrin. He was also the least-informed about the functions of the Formation.
“The Formation is used to distill organic matter and then create other combinations, other life,” Lila explained. “At least that has been its traditional function.”
“But he said a biologic is not necessary,” Panur continued. “This could change our entire perspective on what they intend to do with the device. If organic material is not needed for what the Luz plan for the Formation, then what else could be fed into the system? The disks are living organisms in their own right. What else could they filter?”
Adam shrugged. If Panur and Lila couldn’t figure out the answer, he wasn’t even going to try. Instead, he would sit back and wait for the revelation he knew was coming. Even so, Adam did have an ace up his sleeve, one that he’d been dying to pull out ever since the ransom trade took place.
He grinned.
“Well, whatever they have in mind for the Formation, they might have a little trouble making it work without this.” He reached into his pants pocket and removed a shiny silver disk about the size of a silver dollar. “I slipped one out before turning over the satchel to Garus.” He held up the Formation disk, displaying it proudly.
He didn’t get the reaction he was expecting.
Panur snickered. “You do realize they don’t need all the disks to make it work? Depending on what they want to do, they can get by with as few as six disks. Of course, unless you have a guidance disk. May I see it?”
Adam handed the object down the table to Panur. He examined it and then set it on the table in front of him.
“I will hold onto this.”
“Well, is it one of the guidance disks or not?”
“I will have to examine it more closely, but it appears you may have gotten lucky. There are eight such disks. You may have one.”
“Cool, then they can’t make it work.”
“They have seven others; of course, they can. As I said, it depends on what they want to do with it. And if they don’t intend to send organic material through the filters, they may not need the guidance disks at all. There are still many questions to be answered. However, in the case they do need this disk, we may have to go through this entire circus again when they discover it’s missing.”
All eyes were on Adam, and they weren’t kind.
“What were you thinking, dickhead?” Sherri asked. “Besides what Panur just said, you could have gotten yourself blown up if Garus discovered what you’d done. Hell, you could have gotten us all killed.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“What is done is done,” Panur chided. “If they do come for the disk, we have to be better prepared. All this does is add some priority to finding the Luz and getting the Formation back.”
“For what good it will do us,” Riyad said. “The damn Luz are immortal. If we take it back, they’ll just keep trying again and again. They have all the time in the universe to do so.”
“Then we must find a way of stopping them, as did the Aris.”
“With quantum prisons?” Sherri asked. “How the hell do we do that?”
“There are other ways,” Lila stated. “Quantum anchors, for one, along with the more traditional methods we have used before; freezing or by casting them into a star. Immortals cannot die, but they can be stopped.”
“So, what do we do next?” Tidus asked. “And what time constraints are we working under?”
All eyes turned to Panur. “First of all, the Luz will have to build a framework for the disks, along with all the other paraphernalia that goes with it. That cannot be done aboard a starship, especially a DM ship. There is simply not enough room. Even the freighter would be insufficient since the distillation platform will have to be free of vibration for the
filtration to take place. They must find a land base, and not another asteroid—they need sufficient gravity. In addition, they will need access to a substantial power grid and a small workforce. Then depending on the purpose, they will start stacking the wafers, at which time they may come looking for Adam’s missing disk. They tried kidnapping before; they could do that again. Therefore, we need to protect the entire laboratory with an L-field.”
“That assumes they’ll come for the two of you again,” Riyad said. “What if they took Sherri, for example.”
“Then all your troubles would be over,” Sherri smirked.
Riyad laughed. “Praise be to Allah for my good fortune. Be that as it may, others may feel obligated in that case to make the exchange.”
“That is a question for another time,” Panur said impatiently. “For now, let us begin the tracking. As you know, DM ships leave a distinctive energy signature. We were not allowed to track the ship as it left the Dinis system, but we can begin to look for traces elsewhere. The most logical location: a planet with a compliant population.”
“That would have to be Gracilia,” Adam said. “The Luz are working with the Gracilians now.”
“That cooperation does not appear to be on a volunteer basis, however,” Panur said. “Even so, for Garus to get to Gracilia could be a problem. The planet is on lockdown with your Enforcers keeping guard. And as you have demonstrated, it would be the first place we would suspect.”
“Still, it’s worth a look.”
“I agree. Go then, while Lila, J’nae and I begin scanning gravity wave disturbances around the Dinis system so we can at least get a direction in which they departed.”
Sherri leaned over toward Adam. “I suppose you’re going to beg for Riyad and me to go with you to Gracilia. You are so needy.”
“A superhero needs his sidekicks—”
And that’s when she slapped him up the side of the head.
CHAPTER 6
WITH TIME OF THE ESSENCE, Adam borrowed another DM ship from General Oakes and outfitted it with weapons and other provisions for a prolonged mission. Gracilia may be just the start, and he was determined not to stop looking until he’d recovered the Formation disks—all of them.
What people didn’t realize at the time was that Adam was very close to making a momentous decision. The Formation had been a royal pain in the ass since its discovery, and so far, Adam didn’t see any practical use for it. He was contemplating its destruction. Lila mentioned at one time how fragile the disks were, meaning they could be broken, shattered into a thousand fragments each. He wasn’t going to tell anyone about his leanings; the mutants would surely try to stop him, considering the ancient device too unique to destroy. But it was more trouble than it was worth, at least in Adam’s opinion. His mind wasn’t entirely made up; in fact, it probably wouldn’t be until the time came. But as he, Sherri and Riyad set off for Gracilia, he knew which way he was leaning at the moment, and it didn’t bode well for the future of the Formation.
The journey to Gracilia took six days by DM ship. In that time, Panur and the others detected dozens of residual dark matter gravity wave disturbances surrounding the Dinis star system. That was also when the mutants discovered these disturbances lasted much longer than traditional gravity trails, many months in fact. That complicated the matter. Dark matter-powered starships once saturated the Dead Zone, with nearly all of them originating from Gracilia. That meant there was so much clutter in the space between the planet and Dinis that it was almost impossible to separate the signals. More in-depth analysis of the trails would be needed, based on the residual intensity.
The good news was that the mutants couldn’t detect too many fresh tracks leaving the Dinis system and heading away from Gracilia. Still, Garus could have changed course or even went to Gracilia and then left when he found he couldn’t land on the planet.
Either way that left Adam basically shooting in the dark. But it was a place to start. And Adam Cain was a man of action, even if that action involved running around in circles.
The being known as Garus was also a creature of action, although, at the moment, his companions did not approve of the actions he was taking.
“We have the Formation,” Panof was saying. “We should now bide our time, move away from this region and find a more secure location to perform the experiment.”
They were aboard the huge cargo freighter with the dark matter starship crammed into the largest loading bay. The craft fit, but barely. The lone surviving Gracilian was busy dismantling equipment and transferring it to the smaller vessel. The freighter would be destroyed once the task was complete.
“I have waited too long for this moment, Panof,” Garus barked at his companion. The Masters had taken to speaking verbally, something instinctive that they now accepted as normal. Telepathy was only one of the many enhancements their implants gave them, but it wasn’t natural. “If successful, then we will be safe, safer than we have ever been.”
Docem was taking the center road in the discussion. “We are immortal, Panof; we are safe even here. However, you are right that there is no hurry. The Aris are gone, so there is no one to stop us.”
“There are the mutants we set free,” Panof corrected. “We have come to a time with many unknowns. Had we thought of it, it would have been very unlikely that other immortals would exist, and ones of such variety and power. The creatures Lila Bol and Panur are both immortal; however, they were created by two separate processes. One natural, one artificial. We would not have conceived of that.”
“We are artificial constructs ourselves, Panof, and we are immortal,” Garus pointed out. “And we all know the incredible effort the Aris went through to create their Apex Being, and all for naught. So the existence of other immortals was not unpredictable, just improbable.”
“Even so, they are a threat to us.”
“They are a threat to you, Panof, a threat because of your lack of courage,” Garus said.
“Courage does not come into play. I am speaking logically.”
“Do not succumb to the Aris reliance on logic. Logic is often an excuse for the weak. We are the Masters; we choose our actions based not only on logic but on the strength of will. I will not delay the building of the Formation, nor will I tolerate hesitation to conduct the experiment. It is not what I wish to do. And being who I am, I do not have to accept anything other than my own desires.”
“What of our desires?” Panof asked, letting his residual anger rise to another level. “You may be the First Master, but we are Masters, as well. We have been a union of leadership for two hundred years. Why now do you make demands of us to follow your will, and only yours? What has happened to you recently?”
“What has happened?” Garus shouted, surprising the other Masters with his emotional outburst. “I had my most sacred possession stolen from me before my very eyes. I witnessed formerly loyal servants turn against me, lured away by my mortal enemy. I was imprisoned in an endless void for an unimaginable time.”
“That happened to us, as well, Garus,” Docem said, his voice calm, soothing. “You were not alone in experiencing such setbacks.”
“I take exception to your statement. Witness your reactions,” Garus began. “I do not believe you experienced the same effect regarding events as have I. The two of you are accepting of these events and betrayals as if you are not the masters of your fate. We are the Masters; no one can treat us as such and escape unscathed.”
“I understand,” said Docem. “But our war was with Nunki, and he is long departed. As such, our war is not with this time and this reality.”
“But it is! All around us, we see the products of Nunki’s treachery. He used our device to make this galaxy. He stole our vision and made it his own, while at the same time exterminating the Luz, denying them their destiny. We were to lead that destiny. It was why we were created. But you cannot see that. You and Panof do not have the vision that created the Formation in the first place. How can you even consider
yourselves Masters?”
“Your speech is bordering on hysteria, Garus,” Docem warned. “You are crossing a line which is doing nothing more than alienating your companions, your equals, the only other members of your race.”
“You are not my equals! You were never created to be my equals. As were the Luz and the Aris before them, you were created to be my servants.”
“Enough!” Panof yelled. “It is obvious your time in the quantum universe has corrupted your mind to the point of insanity. You were not like this before.”
“But he was,” Docem corrected. “We just could not see it. Garus has always considered himself better than us, superior in every way. But look at you, Garus. You are physically like us; you carry the same implants that give you strength and power as do we. And now you stand here before us, more machine than living being—just as we are—and proclaim that you are a god of some kind. I concur with Panof; you are displaying signs of insanity. You should surrender yourself to our care so we can manage your recovery. You do not want to go through eternity in your present condition.”
The manic expression on Garus’s pale face faded, and his shoulders slumped.
“I am of an intellect that can consider your arguments and observations dispassionately; therefore, I must concur. I am not acting rationally. Allow me time to contemplate my actions.”
He looked to the doorway into the landing bay. The Gracilian Crin had been standing there for a few minutes, listening to the conversation but understanding none of it. It had been spoken in ancient Aris, a language that had not been assimilated into the Universal Language Database.
“The transfer is complete,” the alien said sheepishly. Although he couldn’t understand the language, Crin sensed that an argument had taken place between the Masters.
“Very well, Crin,” Garus said in Gracilian. “I will test the circuits to assure you have everything I instructed.”