The Star Collector

by Matthew William

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Not terribly well,” she said with a scared look on her face. “You’ve been spying on my medical records?”

  Joe shrugged.

  Alma didn’t seem to be bothered by this revelation. “You know my mother died of this same thing.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Runs in the family I’m afraid.”

  “Have you been taking anything for it?” Joe asked.

  “Just the usual medicines and whatnot.”

  “Expensive?”

  “My insurance covers it.”

  “And they work?” Joe asked. “The medicines?”

  “Like a charm,” Alma said with an unconvincing smile. “I feel stronger every day.”

  “Keep taking them then.”

  “Well, like I said, my insurance pays for it...” Alma stopped, she must have realized in that moment that she wasn’t being covered by a clerical error. Her insurance was sitting there on the bed next to her. “...I’m lucky I’ve got such a good one.”

  Joe smiled. That must have been her way of thanking him.

  “If I die from this,” she went on, “I want you to know, I’m actually glad you dragged me into all this.”

  “You’re not going to die.”

  “Alright Joe… but listen to me. I’m glad you brought me the artifact. I don’t want you feeling guilty about it.”

  “It hasn’t been the smoothest operation we’ve ever done, has it?”

  “No, it hasn’t,” she said. She began to cough uncontrollably. With her face red and her eyes closed, she regained her composure. “But it’s been the crown jewel of my career – whether or not we succeed.”

  He couldn't tell if she was lying, but it really didn’t matter that much. Alma seemed to believe it.

  “Success would be nice, though,” he said.

  “Oh yes, of course,” Alma said. “It’s just, in the end, antiquities are fickle. But they serve a purpose. They connect us to the past, and that makes us feel immortal somehow.”

  Joe smiled.

  “And you, Joe – you have an eye for BS unlike any I’ve ever seen,” Alma said. “You’re like a prophet… or the closest I’ve ever seen to one.”

  “A prophet, huh? And what does that make you then?”

  “Me? Oh, I’m just a peddler.”

  “The best peddler in the galaxy,” Joe said.

  “Alright, Joe, alright. Now...” Alma said, pointing to Lien who stood anxiously in the doorway. “That artifact is waiting for you.”

  Joe followed Lien through the facility past all the experiments the scientists had been conducting.

  Chemical trials for a new brand of shampoo. Refracted light analysis. Biological examination of a hybrid breed of giant space boar. Something called a space storm to water plants in zero gravity.

  Soon they came to a large door and Lien scanned her identification card. It opened to another massive hangar, even bigger than the docking bay. Cassandra and Tammy were there waiting.

  “How’s Alma?” Cassandra asked.

  “She’s been better,” Joe said. “But I think she’ll be alright.”

  The tiny artifact hung there in the middle of the room, like a perfect little pebble, with wires connecting it to the computing system.

  “We were assigned to hack the artifact,” Lien announced. “To target our enemies, but it seems to be programmed to target everyone. And we can’t stop that process. The countdown can’t be undone with our computers as it seems to be based on otherworldly math.”

  “And when the countdown is complete?” Joe asked.

  “It zaps us out of existence,” Lien answered.

  “Right,” Joe said.

  “I have my own theory of what the thing is,” the assistant with the glasses chimed in.

  Lien put her face in her hands and shook her head.

  “Let’s hear it,” Joe said.

  The assistant blushed and continued. “Have you ever heard of the Great Filter?”

  “Of course,” Joe said, thankful he had just brushed up on his Applebottom reading.

  “The leading theory around here is that’s what the artifact is. It took out the Talashaa and now it’s going to take out us.”

  “Well, we have someone who can fix this,” Joe said. “So it’s definitely not the filter. Not for us anyway.”

  The other assistant walked up, his short hair glistening in the florescent lights, and whispered something into Lien’s ear.

  “That’s unfortunate,” Lien said, her face going instantly sad.

  “What wrong?” Joe asked.

  “It’s too late now,” she said. “The fleet is here.”

  “Like here, here?”

  Lien used her tablet to bring the footage up onto the view screen on the hangar wall. Fifty ships approached the base, coming in from all angles with a red laser network forming a sphere around them. That was a siege net, making escape impossible.

  “They weren’t supposed to be here for another two hours,” Joe said, looking at where his compass used to be. “What’s it been like thirty minutes?”

  “We have to make a run for it,” Tammy said.

  “You see those red lasers?” Joe asked, pointing a finger to the view screen. “There’s no getting past them. It’s a siege net.”

  “So we’re trapped?” Tammy said.

  “Like a rat,” Joe answered.

  “But we’ve got backup coming,” Cassandra announced, her arms crossed.

  “You do?” Lien asked.

  Cassandra looked to Joe.

  “It’s another two hours before they get here,” Joe said. “If they followed my directions…” he looked to Lien. “You think we can hold out for two hours?”

  She frowned. “We won’t last two minutes.”

  “Don’t you have anything to defend yourselves with?” Joe asked. “What are our assets?”

  “We have a shield,” Lien said.

  “A shield? Okay, that’s a start,” Joe said.

  “But it’s useless against the PBS,” she replied.

  “We’ve got the artifact in here. They wouldn’t want to destroy it, right?” Joe said.

  “Well, there’s something you should know,” the short haired assistant said.

  “What’s that?” Joe asked.

  “As far as we can tell the artifact is indestructible,” he replied, as if the words hurt to say out loud.

  “Right,” Joe said. The situation had become infinitely worse. “First and foremost we have to figure out a way to deactivate their PBS.”

  “Our computer division can do that,” the short haired assistant announced. “They’re top notch.”

  “Lien?” Joe said.

  “Yes?” she replied.

  “You never listed a top notch computer division when I asked for assets.”

  “I forgot about them.”

  “Well, how about you go and try to think of what else you may have forgotten.”

  “But even without the PBS,” the bespectacled assistant chimed in, “the battle cruisers still have their weapons systems that can’t be remotely overridden. They’ll be able to destroy the shield in, what?” he looked to the others.

  “Thirty minutes?” Lien said.

  “More like twenty,” the short haired one sadly announced.

  “Well, twenty minutes isn’t nothing,” Joe said. “We just need to find a hundred more of them. Lien, could you set a clock for two hours?”

  The scientist used her tablet to put a countdown clock up on the wall of the hangar.

  “Wait a second. Start it at zero and count up,” Joe said. “So we can calculate easier.”

  She changed the clock accordingly. It counted up the seconds from zero.

  “How are we supposed to get to two hours?” Tammy asked Joe under her breath.

  “Lien, how are we doing in the asset department? Have you found any weapons?” Joe asked.

  “We have some explosives, but
nothing to shoot them with.”

  “Okay, anything else?”

  “And a turret that was supposed to go on David’s ship before we sent him on a security check,” Lien said.

  “I don’t know who this David is, but do you think he’ll mind if we use his turret?”

  “It needs to be connected to a ship.”

  “Could we put it on mine?” Joe asked.

  “We also don’t know how to do it,” Lien added.

  “Did it come with an instruction manual?” Tammy asked.

  “I believe so,” Lien replied.

  “I’m on it,” Tammy said with a snap of her fingers. The assistant with glasses led her back to the docking bay.

  “So we have one turret against fifty battle cruisers,” Lien said. “Other than that we have no weapons.”

  “Anything can be a weapon if you’re creative enough,” Joe said. “Look, we need to think up some ways of slowing down the fleet. So have your teams come up with some ideas.”

  Joe and Cassandra took a small office in the hangar which they dubbed the Defensive Control Center. They set up a table and a few chairs. One by one, Lien brought in the teams of scientists to present the experiments they had been working on.

  The first crew brought in their outer space lightning storms. They demonstrated the phenomenon to Joe in a small glass terrarium.

  “This is very nice,” Joe said. “Would it have any effect on a Battle Cruiser?”

  “I have no idea,” the scientist answered.

  “Okay, it’s a start. Crank the power up to full blast and let me know when they’re ready.”

  The next group came with a ray gun that could increase the size of organic matter.

  “Maybe we can use it in concert with that space boar project,” Cassandra pondered aloud.

  “Would you feel uncomfortable using this on a human?” Joe asked the scientist.

  “I wouldn’t be against the idea,” the scientist said.

  “We’ll keep it in mind.”

  The next scientist came in, very excited about his invention.

  “Well, let’s hear it,” Joe said.

  “It’s a black hole generator.”

  “Get out,” Joe snapped, pointing to the door.

  A dozen more scientists trickled in with the various projects they had been working on.

  “I’m sure you’re excited about your new rice cake,” Joe pleaded with the last of them. “But I really don’t see how we can use it as a weapon.”

  The scientist tearfully picked up his rice cakes and left the room.

  Joe turned to Cassandra. “Well, we’re screwed.”

  Meanwhile, the fifty ships of the Chinese Fleet stood at the ready.

  The radio technician in the science facility had delayed them for as long as possible saying they would be right out. That had bought them about sixteen minutes. There was still 1 hour, 44 minutes and 26 seconds to go.

  “They’re still not coming out, sir,” Saburo said to Enoch Applebottom.

  Applebottom sat with his face in his hands. Things had become complicated fast. “Is the PBS ready?”

  The lead officer typed into his computer. “No. They’ve disabled it.”

  “What? Who disabled it?”

  “The computer division at the science facility...” Saburo said. “They’re top notch.”

  “What’s the point of a weapon system if a computer division can disable it?”

  “Usually we wouldn’t be using it against the people who designed it, sir.”

  “Please tell me the rest of the weapons are still working,” Applebottom groaned.

  “Yes, they’re untouchable from the outside.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that.”

  Saburo nodded.

  “Well, open fire then,” Applebottom said.

  Inside the facility, the walls and floors began to rumble as the bombardments pummeled the shield.

  “Okay, they’re stronger than we anticipated,” Lien said. “We lost the western corridor.”

  Joe tensed up. “Should we be worried about an air leak?”

  “We have an experimental membrane built into the station’s frame. It congeals around any opening,” she looked to Joe. “Is that the right word, congeal?”

  “I’m not sure, to be honest,” Joe answered.

  “Either way, I think the shields will only last us another ten minutes.”

  “Call them and tell them we give up,” Joe said, throwing his papers onto the floor of the Defensive Control Center.

  “They’re hailing us again, sir,” the officer said to Applebottom. “They said they’re ready to give up.”

  “Ignore it,” Applebottom said. “They’ve jerked us around too much already, it’ll just be easier to blow the place up and find the artifact afterwards.”

  “They said they’re not going to stop,” Lien said.

  “I see,” Joe replied. He grabbed Cassandra’s hand. “I’m really sorry, but I’ve killed us all.”

  He sat there for a moment, in the rumbling science facility, wondering what it would have been like for the artifact to zap him out of existence. He wouldn’t even get to experience that. Too bad. Cassandra gripped his hand tightly. At least they were together now.

  “I’ve had a good run, I suppose,” Cassandra said to herself.

  “The candle that burns brighter burns faster,” Joe said.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your little pity party,” Lien said. “But may I unleash our science experiments?”

  “What?” asked Joe.

  “You’ve given me some ideas,” Lien said. She brought up the messenger on her tablet. “Sungwei? Release all the rice cakes from the storage hold and stand by with the expansion ray.”

  “What are you doing?” Joe asked.

  “Boosting our shields.”

  “With rice cakes?”

  “You haven’t tried eating them,” Lien said.

  Lien brought up the view from the camera outside. The cakes floated out from the storage hold and the organic expansion ray they shot at each and every patty until they were the size of football fields that formed a massive, white cushion around the base.

  Applebottom gazed out the window of the battle cruiser. “What is all that white stuff?”

  “Rice cakes, I think, sir.”

  “And what happens when we shoot it?”

  “Very little. It’s actually more effective than their shield was,” Saburo said.

  “According to my calculations we bought ourselves another twenty minutes,” Lien announced.

  Joe looked at the clock. “So we’ve got until minute thirty-seven. One hour, twenty three more to go. We have anything else we can blow up as a shield?”

  “We can’t use the expansion ray again,” Lien said. “We’ve overheated it.”

  “Okay, so what else we got?” Joe asked.

  Applebottom stood by the window and watched as water droplets splashed against the glass. He had never seen this phenomenon before. He put his finger against the window and followed the bead of water as it fluttered around in zero gravity. A huge bolt of of lightning cracked just outside, knocking him down onto his chair.

  “What the heck was that?” he asked, his heart racing.

  “A space storm,” Saburo said. “And that surge drained our power ten percent.”

  “Try and avoid it,” Applebottom commanded.

  “But it’s everywhere,” the officer answered.

  Lien followed the progress on her tablet. “The storm is actually draining some of the ships of their power, which I hadn’t expected. I reckon this bought us another eight minutes.”

  “Up to forty-five,” Joe said.

  “Woah! Look at this.” Lien turned the tablet to show Joe. One of the ships, in attempting to avoid the storm, accidentally crossed into the line of fire from a nearby battle cruiser. Explosions and debris flew from the ship.

  “How many minutes does it buy us?” Joe asked.

  “Another
fifteen.”

  “We’ll make it to an hour now!” Joe yelped. Things were getting interesting.

  A tech came up to the Defensive Control Center. “I think we can use refracted light to make it look like the base has moved out away from the rice cake shield.”

  “Do it,” Lien said.

  “They’ve moved sir,” Saburo said to Applebottom.

  “Away from all that white crap?”

  The officer nodded.

  “Well, finally something’s going our way. Concentrate fire on them.”

  “Many of our ship’s gunning systems are about to overheat,” Saburo warned.

  “We’re pretty close to cracking that shield,” Applebottom said. “Just push on through.”

  “Every minute they fire on the reflection is another minute to the good,” Lien said.

  “And what do you think it’s bought us?” Joe asked.

  “Another twenty minutes.”

  Joe patted her on the back, they were quickly becoming good friends. “Alright! Just another forty to go. Say, is there anything else that the computer division can take control of?”

  Twangy 22nd century country music began to blare from the speaker systems in all of the battle cruisers. A recent poll in Galactic Weekly had voted that genre the most obnoxious music of all time.

  “Those guys really are top notch,” Applebottom said. “This is unbearable. Saburo, concentrate all fire on their communication satellite.”

  “The real one?” Saburo asked, having realized only a moment ago that the fleet had been firing on an optical illusion for the past few minutes.

  “Yes ignore the reflection, please.”

  “I’m not sure if we’ve made much difference,” Lien said. “It’s hard to measure morale.”

  “We’ll round up five minutes,” Joe said. “Thirty-five minutes to go.”

  The facility began to rumble more and more strongly now.

  “The battle cruisers are concentrating their fire on our communication satellite,” Lien said.