“Let’s check out what else there is, then,” Karen said with a sheepish grin as she started activating some of the displays at the far edge of her control panel. “We might have missed something else, besides the N-beam, too.”
Richard agreed to the value of this and sat down again in the pilot’s seat so he could check through some of the more obscure categories that he had previously ignored in his mistaken belief that he should concentrate on the essentials. Got it wrong again! I wonder what a weapon like that would do on the surface of a planet?
Before long, he had discovered that the Star Drive could be used to power a defensive system called the ‘Shell Field’, something which he recalled had been mentioned in the descriptive material on Outpost 27. I guess this would be a mobile version of the same kind of thing.
Further examination revealed that the ship-mounted Shell Field was basically a more powerful version of the Structural Protection Field, and that it consisted of three concentric force fields, layered like the skin of an onion and located slightly further out from the Scout Craft’s exterior surface than the S P Field. According to the data banks, The Shell Field could stop almost anything from damaging the Scout Craft, even the awesome power of a Negatruction beam, for a very short time, if the S-Field was modulated correctly.
“That sounds great!” Karen commented as she leaned over on his shoulder. “There’s nothing else here except long range scanners and the access to the anti-gravity sled. Neither works, and there is an indication that some fairly major components are not just in need of repair, but may be missing.”
“That’s interesting; I guess your parents must have just pushed the sled off the cliff into the sea when it wouldn’t go anymore,” Richard speculated. “What’s the purpose designated for the long range scanner?”
“It would give us an indication of the atmosphere, if any, around the second planet, even from this range, and it would detect other ships over even greater distances by virtue of the distortion effect of their Star Drives.”
“Kind of air traffic control aid, eh?”
Karen grinned back. “I’ll help you get this Shell Field system up and running, then we can work on the ‘radar’. Not that I anticipate seeing much else in this system. Space is so big, isn’t it?” She repeated Richard’s comment back to him, as if she had just discovered the truth for herself.
Richard nodded as he activated the diagnostic system once more. “I hope we don’t run out of replacement Macrals.”
“They seemed to have stocked a heck of a lot of them.” Karen threw one over to him to demonstrate her point.
“Forethought.” Richard caught the apparently solid hunk of metal and continued to muse as he watched the diagnostic system indicate which units needed replacing. “Anyone that can build a spaceship that still works after more than five hundred years has my utmost respect!” As he did so, the familiar facet of the Macral, the one that had been lurking in the back of his mind, tantalising him for some time, sprung unbidden but very satisfyingly into his consciousness: A kindergarten project… creating a ‘tower’ out of quarters… he had collected or scrounged nine dollars in total, and his Dad had given him four more to round out the collection. The finishing touch, which had completed the image so similar to the Macrals, had been the transparent plastic tubing his father had provided to stop them falling over.
Chapter Ten
The most obvious things cannot be proved – Idahnian
Isaac, Ruth and Latt were sitting in comfortable armchairs in the Officers’ Club at Cold Lake Armed Forces Base. The lounge was strangely deserted for a Saturday evening, but this was not really surprising, as it had been temporarily closed to allow the Base Commander, Colonel Ingram R. Bayard, to talk to his new ‘guests’ in comfort and privacy.
In addition to the Base Commander, the base Security Officer, Major Gregor Ulrique was also present. Flying Officer Harold Morton, who had inadvertently accompanied the three on their hair-raising trip to Cold Lake after the destruction of his CF-18 Hornet, had already been debriefed and had not been invited to attend. Other than these five, though, the room was completely deserted. No further attempt had been made to make the travel-worn and hungry visitors comfortable, in fact they had been subjected to medical tests almost continuously since their arrival, so just the lack of activity and the softness of the chairs was, by contrast, somewhat of an improvement. They had been seated for several minutes while the Commander read through reports from a number of his officers. Only the sound made by heavy boots thumping a regular beat outside the door broke the silence within.
Colonel Bayard finished studying the papers he had on his lap and slid them back into the leather brief with a flourish. He looked up over the half-moon reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose; his brow wrinkled as he raised his eyes to study the three sitting so uncomfortably in the plush chairs.
“First of all,” he began abruptly, “I must apologize for the inconveniences that have been foisted on you since your rather unconventional arrival here at Canadian Forces Base Cold Lake. It is of course precisely because of the nature of your transportation, your unfortunate, albeit unintentional destruction of one of Her Majesty’s aircraft and the substantial damage inflicted on another, your claim to be the three American citizens purported to have been abducted from a pleasure cruiser off the coast of Florida almost two weeks ago under suspicious circumstances, and the addition of a further, unidentified person without any form of identification, that such measures of security have been deemed prudent.”
“Now,” He leaned forward and scrutinized each of them one by one before continuing, his grey hair barely visible above the wrinkled surface of his high forehead, and his over-trimmed moustache sitting like a dark smudge on his upper lip. “I can report that our counterparts in the United States have kindly provided us with the necessary records to confirm that you are, indeed, who you say you are, at least as far as the three who claim American citizenship are concerned. This of course leaves us with somewhat of a dilemma.” Bayard paused once more for effect.
Isaac took the opportunity to interrupt. “Colonel Bayard, we appreciate to some extent the necessity for security – indeed we are concerned, not just with national security, but with the security of the entire planet. For that reason I most strongly recommend that you allow us to give you a brief summary of the events of the past two weeks before you proceed any further in your deliberations.” He rubbed the crook of his arm where a slight bruise was developing after the blood sampling procedure of the late afternoon. “We would also like to be able to contact a representative of our own government, so as to make certain arrangements which will be required after our unexpected absences.”
“Quite so, quite so,” the Colonel replied, giving Ruth the impression that he had really not been listening at all. “Our respective governments have been in constant communication since your arrival; any further information regarding this exchange of knowledge will, I’m sure, be forthcoming in the near future. In the meantime I must assure you that every precaution is being taken to ensure your safety; of course we will need to restrict you to certain facilities on the base to maintain the high level of protection demanded in the circumstances, which I know you will agree is in your best interests.” He paused once more, his own need for a routine and disciplined approach outweighing any other considerations, but before he could continue, the grey-haired stranger with the brilliant blue eyes broke in.
“If the Controllers were to return, all your attemptss at providing ssecurity would be proved worthless,” Latt stated abruptly in his unique accent. He stood up, frustrated by the events of the previous few hours that for him had been totally unexpected, inexplicable and intolerable. “There iss a legend on Rhaal that long ago my people were once their own masters, free of the dominion of the hated Controllers. When I met Isaac and Ruth, and mosst of all when I met Terry, I began to believe that thiss legend could be true.” He was pacing about now, and the Security Officer was getting edgy. �
�Now I ssee that you do not value your freedom ass they do; perhaps if you had been sstranded on Mars, this world would never have heard about the Controllers and their plans. Then life would have carried on ass it is now, until they arrived and made sslaves of you all.” He stopped, standing in front of the Base Commander’s chair, his eyes blazing.
“Sit down!” Major Ulrique, the sallow-faced Security Officer said angrily as he jumped to his feet and almost pulled his pistol from its holster. “You are not permitted to speak to the Commander in such a manner!”
“No, it’s all right Gregor; I’m interested in their story.” The Colonel backed off from his intended course of action, using his subordinate’s excessive zeal as an excuse for his flip-flop. “I think, though, that they will agree that it would be wise for each of them to tell me their recollection of the past two weeks in their own words, without any collaboration. Only in this manner can we begin to develop any confidence in what sounds like the most unlikely of occurrences.” He stood up and gestured for Latt to accompany him, but the thin and still angry man did not move.
“Latt,” Isaac spoke softly and calmly. “This may sound too strange to your way of thinking, but Colonel Bayard has a point here; there are unfortunately a small number of people on Earth that try to deceive with fantastic stories; they have been known to try, even with the leaders of the people.” He looked into his friend’s puzzled eyes as he turned to listen, and tried to convey a feeling of confidence. “I believe we must show that we trust them first; once we have told our story, and they can see that it is indeed the truth, they will have confidence in us, too.”
Latt looked at him long and hard, indecision written all over his face.
“I think even your friend Terry would understand the necessity for this.” Ruth stood up and walked over to him. “Though, like you, he would hate every minute of it.” She turned from Latt back to the Commander. “Latt will agree to this if you will allow us one favour in return. I want to go and see Terry in hospital. Now. You can get my sworn statement later on, but unless you can demonstrate that you are indeed protecting us, and doing everything possible for Mr. Stadt’s recovery, not just keeping us as prisoners, we will not tell you anything.” Ruth’s face was flushed, her emotions barely under control, but Isaac watched with pride as she restored a little self-respect to the proceedings by her tough stand.
Colonel Bayard smiled, almost graciously. “I’m sorry, my dear, of course you must see your good friend. Major Ulrique, would you please arrange for an escort to take Mrs. Hardy to visit Mr. Stadt at the hospital, then you can take Mr. Hardy’s statement whilst she is there.” He turned to Latt and gestured once more for him to accompany him out of the room. Latt exchanged glances with Ruth and Isaac, and when they both nodded slightly to him, he walked out stiffly with the Commander.
Major Gregor Ulrique picked up a phone and dialled; as he waited for a response he watched the Hardy couple constantly.
“Yes, Captain Osgood? This is Major Ulrique speaking,” his face softened into a tight smile that seemed incongruous with his sallow complexion. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. No, as a matter of fact I’m acting on Colonel Bayard’s instructions. Please come to the Officers’ Club immediately, and explain to the guard that I directed you here. I will provide more information on your arrival. Thank you, Sylvia.” He hung up the phone and walked briskly the couple of paces necessary to take him back to the armchairs in which Ruth and Isaac were now seated. “I hope this meets your satisfaction?”
Ruth smiled back thinly, recognizing at last that the man before her was not speaking his mother tongue.
“Thank you, Gregor,” she said, perhaps a shade too enthusiastically. She turned back to Isaac to make a comment in a lower voice, but the Major was not finished exerting his authority yet.
“I’m afraid I must ask you both to refrain from talking, as a precaution, purely a precaution,” he continued, with an obviously insincere expression of apology plastered over his face.
Ruth just stared at him in amazement and frustration, while Isaac wavered between amusement and disgust. A few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence, then the door swung open and a rather severe-looking red-headed female officer stepped inside.
Major Ulrique met her at the door and carried out a conversation in low tones while he continued his observation of the couple in the room’s centre. After a minute or two, he raised his chin slightly and called out: “Mrs. Hardy, if you would like to accompany Captain Osgood, she will take you to visit your friend. I have asked the Captain to return you here in about two hours. We will then deal with your account of the events of the past two weeks.”
Ruth nodded, her expression showing her slight nervousness and definite reluctance at being parted from her husband under such uncertain circumstances.
“Give Terry our love,” urged Isaac as she neared the exit. Ruth brightened, winked and then turned and left the room with her escort.
“Now,” began Major Gregor Ulrique as he returned and sat down facing Isaac, picking up his clipboard and settling back to take notes, “I would appreciate if you would tell me everything you can remember about the past two weeks, no matter how insignificant it may seem.” He depressed the record button on the compact unit on the table beside him, and slid it closer to the Professor.
“We were relaxing, enjoying the air conditioning in Mr. Stadt’s cruiser Getaway, when it all began,” Isaac reported dutifully. “Something seemed to be wrong with his sonar, so we were about to check it out when it suddenly started to get dark outside.”
The Major began taking notes, unaware that, before the evening would be over, he would have filled the pad completely, and that the events he would hear of would guarantee that his life would never be the same.
Ruth settled into the passenger seat with a sigh and glanced over at Captain Osgood, to find that she was observing her, also.
“I’m sorry,” Sylvia Osgood began, “I guess I never met someone quite like you before.”
“What do you mean?” Ruth replied as the Captain drove down the narrow roads between the military buildings.
“It’s more what the Major said, than how you look,” she responded apologetically. “Though I must say those boots are the most unusual design I ever saw.”
“You’re observant.”
“Not really, I just hate army boots, so I always check out what civilians are wearing, especially the women. They did look more comfortable than most I have seen, though, despite the unique appearance.”
“They are, though I hated them when I first saw them on,” Ruth admitted. “These coveralls aren’t exactly my choice in fashionware, either. What did your precious Major say, anyway?”
“He’s not my precious Major, though he probably thinks otherwise,” Sylvia disavowed. “He said you were not allowed to talk to anyone, and that I was not to leave your side for an instant, but that you were to visit a certain Terrance Stadt at the hospital and then I was to return you, personally, to the officers’ club and his presence. You must be quite the risk, dropping in so unconventionally from America!”
“America, huh?” Ruth laughed. “As for the risk, the only risk is to those who like to bury their heads in the sand.” She turned and looked at the profile of Sylvia’s head as she slowed down for the guard at the gate. “Did he say I was not to talk to you?” She asked, suddenly and inexplicably aware of the full extent of this vivacious Captain’s curiosity.
Sylvia Osgood was busy with the guard for a moment, then, as she pulled away from the gate, she glanced back with sparkling eyes.
“How could he have meant to include me?” she smiled in anticipation. “I’ve been talking to you since we stepped out of the Officer’s Club!”
“I may be crazy, but I must tell someone, someone who isn’t directly connected; you look like you could keep it quiet.”
“Girl Scouts’ honour,” Sylvia grinned.
***
Colonel Ingram R. Bayard leaned back in his padded chair a
nd stared at the strange man sitting on the other side of his huge old desk. He fingered his dark grey moustache and contemplated the story he had just heard, wondering why anyone would invent such an implausible tale. He only had one hard piece of evidence about their origin, and that was a woefully incomplete radar track that could be concluded to show they had come on a parabolic path, like a boxy – and admittedly very un-aerodynamic – missile, from the east. His opinion was that this track must have originated south of the border, as clearly the occupants and the equipment were not Canadian. It was so short of a record that the route could also be just the last part of a much longer track – from outer space, possibly, even from Mars, though the Commander had found this preposterous at the beginning of the interview, and still did.
Across from him, Latt had started to wilt; it had been several days since he had had anything substantial to eat, and the constant questioning had combined with the lack of food to weaken his new-found vigour. He wondered at the deviousness that must exist in the people of Earth for him not to be believed when he had told what he knew was the simple truth. Suddenly a couple of great ideas came to him, and he jumped up.
“There are at least two ways you can check thiss out,” he began, then grabbed hastily at the arm of the chair as his head started to swim.
Bayard half rose, then sat down again as he saw Latt catch himself and settle himself back down in his chair.
“First, there are ssome components in the Railcar which Isaac said are designed beyond the limitations of your pressent technology, like the artificial Gravity Inducers. The Hybralloy, a ssteel-like material used for the exterior, and the other materials inside. Also the hand la-ser that we brought back with us.”
“Yes, our experts would be assigned to check those out,” the Colonel admitted, almost reluctantly.
“And there are other languages than this ‘English’ on Earth?” Latt saw Bayard nod and continued. “The computer ssystem includes parts of the language of the Controllers, and a translation of some words into English. Perhaps someone could analyze this?”
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