Vanderdeken's Children

by Christopher Bulis

  Such was the power of this man's words that a great calmness seemed to flow over her. She nodded dumbly and laid her head back, staring up at the ceiling. The people withdrew a little way from her and she heard a strange conversation taking place. 'What's happened to her?'

  'She was struck by a negative temporal charge and regressed along her own timeline while retaining the same location in physical space,' the kind man said. "Through time?' 'Try to twist space and you affect time. It's inevitable - and dangerous.'

  'She doesn't seem to know us.' 'The reversal has effectively wiped her memories. She cannot know at ten what she wouldn't learn until she was twenty-one.'

  What were they talking about? Sam wondered. It sounded as though she'd been ill. Maybe that was why she wasn't in school. Perhaps this was a hospital. But it didn't look like one. Where were the nurses - where were Mum and Dad? Too busy to find the time for her again? Well, maybe this was outside visiting hours. But Dad was a doctor - he could come any time.

  And Mum was always finding time to help other people while she was social-working - single mothers, poor people and thieves - everybody! But what about her? Didn't they care? How could they leave her like this?

  Sam started to cry, little choking sobs that she tried desperately to stifle.

  Suddenly the kind man was bending over her again.

  'Be patient, Sam,' he said gently. 'Everything will be all right again soon. It'll all make sense to you. I promise. Do you trust me?'

  And she realised she did trust him. His words were the only thing she had to believe in.

  'I trust you,' she said quietly.

  He smiled and Sam lay back again. He withdrew from her line of sight and the strange distant conversation continued.

  'But what happened to that slab beside her?'

  'It was irradiated with a positive charge to maintain the chronetic balance,'

  the kind man said. 'It was organic material of some kind and aged in the opposite direction.'

  'But her suit hasn't changed.'

  "The beam must have been attuned to affect organic matter only.'

  'That's incredible.'

  'It was an attempt to manipulate raw temporal flux as though it was electricity, and that can't be done with this sort of equipment.'

  'You seem awfully sure of yourself, Doctor,' said a stern accusing voice.'How can you possibly know all this?'

  'It doesn't matter how I know. I've got to reactivate the system and reverse the process.'

  'You think you can operate these controls?'

  'There should be some logic to their layout.

  Sam heard more rapid footfalls as the man who had been called the Doctor began to move urgendy about the room.

  ***

  Argen barely allowed time for the fine plume of dust and small fragments blasted upward by the ring charge to disperse, before he took theResolve down to land beside the hatchway. A neat hole had been cut out of its centre. Hardly had the wash of the underjets died away before the marines were piling out and running in long strides across the derelict's marbled hull. They had conferred with Commander Vega as they had circled high over the derelict and knew exactly what they had to do.

  As soon as they were clear, the engineering tech closed the hatch. Argen wanted to go with them, to find their lost shipmates and, if possible, teach whoever had taken them that Nimosians never abandoned their comrades.

  But he was the only pilot and had to stay with the shuttle.

  He watched intently through the cockpit canopy as they clustered round the newly formed aperture and shone torches into the void beneath. It was apparently clear, for they began rigging lines. One by one they quickly lowered themselves into the darkness, leaving two men on guard at the top of the shaft.

  There came a faint whir of motors from the upper hull as the turret gunner tracked his sights across the machinescape around them. Now all they could do was wait.

  ***

  Don Delray paced about the gallery outside the time laboratory, his eyes flickering about the levels and the dark mouths of the passageways leading off them. From within he could hear the Doctor and Manders debating some technical point. Lyset circled the central shaft, happily snapping away and building up a record of its glittering complexity as Rexton had requested. Rexton, Dessel and Bendix were on the levels above and below them, watching out for any sign of the Nimosians.

  He could tell Rexton wanted them to move on, but he couldn't very well insist that they abandon the Jones girl in the state she was in. He was still a politician and he had an image to maintain. That was something Delray understood only too well - except that Rexton seemed so utterly sure of himself. Delray, on the other hand, didn't know how long he could go on acting the part.

  ***

  On the bridge of the Cirrandaria Arcovian looked anxiously at Captain Lanchard.

  'Isn't it time they checked in?' he asked for the tenth time.

  'Six minutes more,' she replied.

  'And you'll tell them what the Nimosians said?'

  He was not being rhetorical, Lanchard decided. 'You can be certain I'll do that, Mr Arcovian,' she assured him.

  ***

  Vega hunched forward, staring intently at the screens, which reproduced the magnified image of the derelict's hull. A light began to pulse on the beetle-like form of the Resolve .

  'Mr Argen signals, ALL IS WELL, sir,' one of the observers reported.

  He'd ordered Argen to make contact every ten minutes. Of course, that told them nothing about the status of the marine rescue party. Shielded by that massive hull and the interference anything could happen to them and they'd never know it.

  He opened a channel to the engineering bay.

  'How long before the second shuttle is ready?' he asked.

  'At least another two hours, sir,' Reng's second replied.

  'All right. Continue at your best speed.'

  If only Reng himself had been there, Vega thought, the work -would have been done by now. But lio Reng was somewhere down on the derelict, and Vega didn't know whether he was alive or dead.

  He made a note to stop thinking of it as a derelict. He'd convinced himself that it was abandoned, as he suspected the Emindians had, because it was simpler that way. But in fact it was an alien vessel of unknown origins and potential.

  And something was alive inside it.

  ***

  The rising hum of power reverberating through the central shaft brought them all racing back to the time laboratory.

  Delray saw that Sam Jones, almost enveloped in her suit, was now standing white-faced and wide-eyed with fear on the spot where she had been struck by the beam. A fresh organic panel had been set up beside her to replace the one that had disintegrated.The Doctor was stepping quickly from one control bank to another, making minute adjustments. Manders and her assistants were standing a little way back from him, watching his activity with baffled interest.

  'Are you ready now, Doctor?' Rexton asked. 'We can't risk staying here much longer.'

  'Any moment now,' the Doctor called back over his shoulder.'I can't afford to make a mistake... Keep still, Sam. It's going to be all right.'

  'Is this going to work?' Rexton asked Manders.

  'Maybe. I don't know how he puzzled out the controls.This set-up's beyond me. Even when he tried to explain I didn't understand a tenth of what he said. But I think if anybody can do it, he can.'

  With a crack the conduit filled with the green haze of energy.

  'This is it,' said the Doctor.'Everybody stay clear.

  The young Sam whimpered. The refracting grids began to rotate. The split beams flickered about the chamber and suddenly illuminated Sam and the test panel. Green fire enveloped them. They heard Sam give a shrill scream, then the energy flickered and died.

  By the time Delray had bunked away the afterimages, the Doctor was supporting Sam Jones in his arms. Her suit fitted properly once again and her face had regained its maturity. But it still held a look of fearful
confusion.

  'Sam,' the Doctor asked anxiously.'Do you remember who I am and where you are?'

  There was a long pause.Then comprehension seemed to return. She nodded slowly and made a visible effort to pull herself together.

  'You're the Doctor. I've just been zapped by this experimental alien gizmo...

  and Lyset Wynter has just taken my picture.' She forced a lopsided grin.

  'Can I have a couple of prints, please?'

  'You've got them,' Lyset assured her with a broad smile. 'Nice to have you back.'

  Delray saw a look of immense relief light the Doctor's face as he beamed at Sam.They're close, Delray thought, really close.

  'Look at that,' Manders said in awe.

  The organic test panel that had been set beside Sam was now a swollen, glistening mass of matted plant stems and crumpled half composted leaves.

  'Entropy demands that a balance must be kept,' the Doctor said, helping Sam to her feet.'Sam's years had to come from somewhere.'

  "Then... this machine actually can restore youth,' Lyset said, the possibilities obviously only now dawning on her.

  'Was I really ten years old again?' Sam asked. The Doctor nodded solemnly.'Well it's not worth it,' Sam said to Lyset with feeling.'Believe me.'

  'Any gain in youth would be at the expense of all the memories, knowledge and experience that went to make you what you were,' the Doctor warned Lyset. "The person who emerged would not be the person who made the decision to regress.'

  'Never mind all that,' Rexton interjected impatiently. 'Are you fit to proceed, Ms Jones?'

  'I'm OK.'

  "Then we must move on.'

  'Just a moment,' said the Doctor.'First you are going to explain how you knew so much about this craft before you ever set foot inside it, and why it's so important to you.'

  'You seem quite well informed yourself, Doctor,' Rexton countered.

  "That was simply the application of general principles and a little improvisation, not foreknowledge. I've never been in a craft like this in my life - but I think you have.And, volunteers or not, these people are running a considerable risk providing you with an exploration team.They're not soldiers blindly following orders and, as we've just discovered, this is a dangerous environment. They deserve to know the truth.'

  'If the General wants to keep his reasons secret -' Bendix began, but Rexton silenced him. 'Thank you for your support, Mr Bendix. Perhaps I should explain. But first we must get to the central control module. If the Nimosians are on board we haven't much time.'

  'After you,' the Doctor said,'and explain as we go. I'm sure you know the way.'

  ***

  Alen Jenez twisted the wheel beside the key panel until the roof hatch had irised halfway open. He picked up the powerful emergency signal lamp that he had run out on a long cable from the shuttle, and sighted its scope through the roof aperture to the distant spark that was the Cirrandaria . He sent, ALL WELL. EXPLORATION CONTINUING.

  The Cirrandaria's lights pulsed back, RECEIVED. NIMOSIAN SECOND

  LANDING PARTY HAS FORCED ACCESS ON OPPOSITE SIDE OF

  DERELICT AFTER REPORTING FIRST PARTY ATTACKED BY

  UNKNOWN FORCES. SUGGESTYOU ABANDON EXPLORATION AND

  RETURN IMMEDIATELY.

  Jenez sent back, RECEIVED. WILL PASS ON RECOMMENDATION.

  Then he hastily shut the external hatch again and stowed the lamp away.

  He was prone to letting his youthful imagination run away with him, and the last hour alone had been ample time for his mind to populate the ship around him with all manner of beings, mostly malevolent. But at least he felt safe in the shuttle. He was fairly certain a blast of the underjets or manoeuvring thrusters would deter all but the most determined aggressor.

  But now he would have to make his way far enough into the craft to re-establish a link via the suit radio with the explorers.Why hadn't Rexton detailed somebody to remain with him to act as a messenger for just this eventuality? Probably because he didn't want to be bothered by messages from the Captain, he decided. But he'd have to take notice of this piece of news.

  Jenez closed the shuttle's hatch, checked once again that his sidearm was loose in its holster, and stepped up to the airlock through which the others had passed an hour earlier. Automatically the door irised open.

  ***

  Rexton led them up the ramps to the higher levels of the tower, talking rapidly.

  'I knew what to expect when we boarded this ship because I've seen one almost identical to it. Years ago we found it drifting in towards the edge of Emindar homespace. Except that unlike this ship it was badly damaged -

  whether by deliberate intent or accident was impossible to determine for certain. Anyway, it was recovered by military tugs and taken to a high-security research station based somewhere in the outer system - you understand I cannot be more specific as to its location. And there it has remained undergoing painstaking examination and reconstruction. Over the years, as I gained seniority, I have been able to oversee the project.'

  'To learn how to use it as a weapon against Nimos,' Sam said automatically.

  Sam was feeling fully recovered from her disconcerting experience, and was pleased to find her perceptions and responses functioning normally.

  Rexton glowered at her, but she simply smiled back sweetly. 'Well, do you deny it?'

  'I will not confirm or deny anything,' Rexton said stiffly. 'That craft was empty and abandoned and drifting into our space. It was obvious that a study of it might reveal new knowledge, perhaps of military value.

  Assuming it was, is it a crime to wish to see one's homeworld properly defended?'

  He glanced round at them, as though demanding their understanding.

  Suddenly Sam suddenly felt his oration shift gears.

  'Emindar has cared well for me in the past,' he continued in smooth but fervent tones,'and now I am repaying that debt. I was a homeless orphan from backwoods Melconville.The state raised me and gave me an education and opportunity to make something of myself, and I seized it.

  Now IVe risen almost to the highest office the state has to bestow.'

  Sam felt she was listening to lines rehearsed in endless political rallies. It almost sounded as though he were proud of his lack of antecedence.Was that the ultimate politician's appeal to the common man? she wondered.

  They turned off an upper main gallery and along a radial corridor.

  'It is not your past I'm questioning,' the Doctor said simply.'but your intentions concerning this vessel and the other craft.'

  Rexton continued determinedly. "The alien craft was obviously of a radically different design. Even in its damaged state the theorists could make some reasoned guesses as to its... potentialities.'

  "The potentialities being the creation of a hyperspatial transporter carrying a fleet several light years in a few seconds,' the Doctor interpolated helpfully.

  Rexton did not reply.

  'A weapon.Told you so,' said Sam.

  The Doctor continued,'! suppose that's why you've been getting Ms Wynter to record everything. In case you can't take possession of this craft, you'll send back the information so that your damaged model can be fully repaired.'

  Further denial was obviously pointless. Rexton said, 'You're quite correct, Doctor. In the first craft the core of this tower, the control module and most of the secondary chambers were badly damaged. Repairs and partial reconstruction have taken years. But with even the most superficial visual references of an undamaged assembly, that process may at last be completed.'

  The corridor opened out into another of the fin-shaped chambers. It was ringed with control panels similar to those in the time laboratory.

  But with one startling difference.

  White rectangular labels had been neatly taped beside every one of the hundreds of blocks of switches and banks of display screens. Sam could see the nearest of them quite clearly. On it was printed in large clear type not the indecipherable alien script, but a descriptio
n of the control's purpose in perfectly legible English.

  Chapter 12

  Ghost

  Jenez carefully examined the T-junction that opened off the airlock. He saw the arrow sprayed on the side wall of the middle corridor and stepped towards it. Then it struck him that, as the interference had subsided slightly, the explorers might now be in range of his helmet radio. He was about to call them when his attention was diverted. About a hundred metres down the corridor to his right a cluster of three blue ceiling-light discs were beginning to flicker. He looked at them warily, wondering if it was a power fluctuation. If the alien ship was going to commence another of its gravity shifts and energy discharges, he wanted to be ready to grab hold of some solid support. But why were only three lights affected? Even as he watched, the furthest of the three brightened again. The problem seemed to be correcting itself.

  Then the next light along dimmed.

  And the last one on the far side brightened.

  Then another dimmed.

  So odd yet outwardly innocent was the phenomenon that he watched it approach at the equivalent of a steady walking pace for several seconds without any sense of alarm. As it got closer he noted that the shadowy patch of corridor directly under the shifting cluster of dimmed lights was curiously indistinct.Almost as though there was something....

  The hairs lifted on the back of his neck.

  A faint shimmering wisp of grey mist was gliding silently but purposefully along within the zone of shadow.

  Heading towards him.

  He drew his gun and began to back away, turning into the transverse corridor the others had gone down. He called out anxiously,'Urgent: Jenez to exploration party. Can you hear me? Reply please!'

  ***

  Rexton had stared at the improbably annotated control room for perhaps ten seconds in stupefied amazement. Then he appeared to recover his composure.

  'Ms Wynter,' he said, in a tone that demanded instant compliance.