The Lost Secret

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Do you believe I will destroy the Tarrypin if you attempt to imprison me on Victory?”

  “You might well make the attempt. I doubt you would succeed, though.”

  “That you accept my threat as valid is a form of trusting my word,” Half-Life said. “Why not then believe me when I say that I mean you no harm?”

  “For one thing,” Maddox said, “that’s the first time I’ve heard you say that.”

  “Can I tell him what you told me?” Valerie asked Half-Life.

  “What specifically?” asked Half-Life.

  “I should tell the captain everything,” Valerie said. “He needs to know the facts. Otherwise, you’re asking too much of him.”

  There was a pause until Half-Life said, “If you must. Go ahead. I will not interfere.”

  Valerie began talking, running through what the construct had told her. As she finished, a winded Ludendorff staggered onto the bridge.

  The professor stared at the main screen and then looked at Maddox.

  “You built it,” the captain said.

  Ludendorff looked at the main screen again. “Now…now see here. You claim I built you?”

  “Creator,” Half-Life said.

  “Confound it! Don’t call me that.”

  “What should I call you then?” Half-Life asked. “Father?”

  “No, no,” Ludendorff said. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Mother?”

  “Are you trying to be funny?” Ludendorff said.

  “No, Creator.”

  Ludendorff stared at Maddox again. The professor raised his hands helplessly and shook his head. “I don’t remember making him, it. That’s the truth.”

  “What kind of alien is that?” Maddox asked.

  “Do you mean the holoimage head?”

  Maddox nodded.

  “Let me think. Ah! That’s an Ardazirho,” Ludendorff said softly, “a native to the planet Ardazir. They’re taller than humans. Can’t see color the same as us.” He shook his head. “They’re gone, extinct, I believe. A few lived among the Builders long ago in my youth, but they were the last of their race. I…I used to speak with an Old One. That was when I lived inside the Library Planet.”

  “Could you build another…what do you call it, the globe or construct?” Maddox asked.

  “What are you?” Ludendorff asked Half-Life.

  “A mistake.”

  “Please don’t say that anymore,” Valerie said. “It isn’t true. You’re a unique individual.”

  Maddox closed his eyes. When he opened them, he told Ludendorff, “The blue object—”

  “His name is Half-Life,” Valerie said, interrupting. “We should call him by his name.”

  Maddox nodded. He could speak to Valerie later about interrupting him when he was talking. This certainly wasn’t the time. “Half-Life said Balron told you to make a key.”

  “What did you say?” Ludendorff asked aghast.

  Maddox waited.

  “Balron, Balron,” Ludendorff said. “I’ve heard that name before. It’s…it’s a legend, I think.”

  “Or maybe a curse?” asked Maddox.

  “What?”

  “Would the Spacers know about this Balron?” Maddox asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ludendorff said. “We don’t know who or what he is. But… Maybe they would. In fact, if any humans did, it would be the Spacers. Why do you ask?”

  “According to Valerie, Half-Life called Lucas Rogers a hunter. He feared the hunter and transferred from Victory to the Tarrypin in order to escape him.”

  “Then Rogers wasn’t helping Half-Life?” Ludendorff asked.

  “It would appear not,” Maddox said.

  “I was not helping a hunter,” Half-Life said from the Tarrypin. “Nor was the hunter helping me.”

  Ludendorff shook his head. “This is all very confusing. I’m at a loss. I can still hardly believe that I built such a machine.”

  “Sir,” Valerie said. “Half-Life caused the rash on my forehead. When I woke up afterward, I didn’t remember what had happened to me.”

  “Yes. Good thinking,” Maddox said. “Half-Life, did you do something similar to the professor, causing him to forget?”

  “I do not wish to answer that,” Half-Life said.

  “Confound it, you little tin-plated monstrosity,” Ludendorff snarled. “Did you tamper with my mind or not?”

  No one said anything, including Half-Life.

  “You did, you filthy little bastard,” Ludendorff said. “Your silence betrays you.” The Methuselah Man smacked a fist into his palm. “This is too much, simply too much. I demand the thing enter my laboratory. I must dismantle it at once.”

  “I refuse,” Half-Life said. “I will destroy this vessel and all life aboard it if any attempt is made to transfer me to Victory.”

  “How about this then,” Maddox said, speaking calmly. “Let us transfer the Tarrypin’s crew here. You can keep the darter and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Do you take me for a fool?” Half-Life asked. “I am young, younger than any of you, but I am not a retard. You will destroy the vessel as soon as Valerie and the others leave.”

  That had been Maddox’s idea, but he could see it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Tell us about Balron then.”

  “I will not.”

  “Look, Half-Life,” Maddox said. “I’m not going to let you join our mission. For all I know, you’re in direct communication with Balron. I will not jeopardize hundreds of people for the sake of three.”

  “You would destroy the Tarrypin, killing Valerie, Derrick and First Mate Littlewood in order to get to me?” Half-Life asked.

  “Can’t you see that you’re forcing me into this?” Maddox asked. “Unless you can tell me something useful and convince me that I can trust you, I have no other choice.”

  “I knew I was a mistake. I told you so, Valerie.”

  “Sir,” Valerie said. “Isn’t there another way?”

  “I wish there were, Lieutenant Commander,” Maddox said. “Know that I have thoroughly appreciated your years of hard work and service. You are a fine officer, among the best I’ve had the pleasure to meet.”

  Over on the Tarrypin, Valerie grew pale.

  “Well, Half-Life,” Maddox said. “What’s it going to be? Are you going to talk or do I have to destroy you in order to protect the mission?”

  “Balron will not be pleased by your threats against me,” Half-Life said.

  Maddox said nothing more, waiting to see what would happen.

  “During the coming journey, I am to record your behaviors and emotions, Captain. I am to fulfill my creative function and learn more about you as a species and culture.”

  Valerie stared at Half-Life in disbelief. “You mean you lied about Balron wanting to destroy you? Ludendorff wasn’t really supposed to forge a key, but make you like he did?”

  “That was creative deception and misdirection,” Half-Life told her. “I was surprised you believed me, as I am a product of Balron and Ludendorff, two master deceivers. Now, Captain, I feel I must warn you—”

  “Don’t bother,” Maddox said, interrupting. “You’re about to become radioactive dust…unless you change your mind. You have ten seconds to reevaluate and make the right decision.”

  Even as Maddox spoke, the little construct ceased projecting the holoimage. At the same time, the floating blue object began to sparkle with light. As it did, the thing began to fade and then disappeared.

  “What the hell?” Maddox said. “Where did it go? Professor, where is it?”

  Ludendorff stared in bewilderment at the main screen. “How could I have made that?” he whispered. “It isn’t possible. It just isn’t possible?”

  “Lieutenant Commander,” Maddox said. “Where’s Half-Life?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” Valerie said, as she looked around.

  “Galyan,” Maddox said.

  “I am analyzing,” Galyan said. “Captain, I believe the computer entit
y teleported.”

  “Do you have any idea where?” Maddox asked.

  “No,” Galyan said, “but away from us should be sufficient for the moment.”

  Maddox scowled. He liked none of this. A ball-of-light alien and now some highly advanced construct purportedly built by the professor. What did they have to do with the Library Planet? Well, that wasn’t the issue this second.

  “Lieutenant Commander, it’s time to land in a hangar bay,” Maddox said. “I’ll send Galyan to help you search the Tarrypin for Half-Life and any other surprises—unless you have an objection to that.”

  “No, sir,” Valerie said.

  “Galyan,” Maddox said.

  “I am on my way, sir.”

  “Just a minute, Galyan,” Maddox said. “First, search Victory, and I mean down to its component atoms. Make sure this thing didn’t teleport onto us in hiding.”

  “Yes, sir,” Galyan said. “Is there anything more?”

  “No. Get started.”

  Galyan vanished.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Ludendorff.

  “Speed for the moment,” Maddox said. “I’m sick of these interfering aliens—no doubt spies for the Builders.”

  “The Builders are no more,” Ludendorff said.

  “I’m beginning to think otherwise,” Maddox said. “Mr. Maker.”

  “Yes, sir,” Keith said from the helm.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here—once we have the Tarrypin aboard,” Maddox said.

  “Aye-aye, sir,” Keith said, as he began to manipulate his board.

  “Professor!” Maddox said sternly.

  “Yes, my boy. What is it now?”

  “Come with me,” Maddox said, standing. “It’s time we had a little chat.”

  -27-

  Maddox paced in the ready room as Ludendorff sat on the sofa against a bulkhead. The Methuselah Man stared off into space, so far having said nothing since the two of them entered.

  Maddox seethed inwardly and worked to settle himself. He did his best from a place of calm, which he usually possessed. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t have it now. He ran over the situation in his mind, searching for clues. Balron had impersonated him and given Ludendorff orders. It would seem that Balron had given Ludendorff more than that, quite specific schematics about how to make the little blue construct. That would mean Half-Life talking to Valerie about being a mistake had been a ruse. The machine was supposed to record their emotions and reactions during the journey to the Library Planet. What did that imply?

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Ludendorff said softly.

  Maddox did not respond but continued to pace. No, this striding back and forth wasn’t the answer. He turned to a window showing the stars. He studied the endless points of light, the great expanse. The awe-inspiring wonder of space helped settle the seething in his heart, in his gut.

  “The pieces aren’t connecting,” Ludendorff said.

  Maddox turned to regard the Methuselah Man. Ludendorff’s features showed fear.

  “We should turn back,” Ludendorff said.

  Maddox went to his desk, sitting on a forward edge.

  “They manipulated my mind,” Ludendorff said in evident horror. “They toyed with it, pulling levers and pressing buttons.” He shook his head. “I can’t take it anymore. I just want to be me. I want the powers of the universe to leave me alone,” he said, shouting at the end.

  “That’s a commendable wish,” Maddox said.

  “Oh, it is, is it? They didn’t fiddle with your mind, did they?”

  “No. Balron killed me. I’ve reviewed my thoughts about the event. My spirit, soul—whatever you want to call it—slipped free from my body when I died. When they resuscitated me, I distinctly recall sliding back into my flesh, how it felt too tight, too small for…for my essence.”

  “That’s crazy talk.”

  “In what way?” Maddox asked mildly.

  “You can’t remember such things at a time like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not a matter of why not,” Ludendorff said. “A dying person is capable of all sorts of hallucinations. Certainly, there must have been a lack of oxygen to your brain. That alone can cause delusions, none of which are trustworthy.”

  “Millions of people would beg to differ,” Maddox said. “There are reams of documented cases where people left their body. Why, I recall reading about people in operating rooms. They were out, drugged unconscious. They remember floating over the procedure and later told the doctor exactly what had happened during the operation. Others remember witnessing harrowing incidences in an afterlife: burning fire, torment—”

  “Enough already!” Ludendorff shouted.

  Maddox raised an eyebrow.

  Ludendorff waved a hand. “Fine, fine, you want to claim an out of body experience, you go right ahead. Why do I care?”

  “I don’t know. Why do you?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Really,” Maddox said.

  Ludendorff didn’t reply, only stared.

  “My point was not the experience specifically. I’m wondering why Balron bothered to disguise himself as you and then shoot me, but leave enough of me for the medical people to resuscitate. I wonder particularly because Balron later hovered over me as an infrared ball of light and then summoned Galyan, and only then disappeared.”

  Ludendorff looked away, shaking his head, muttering under his breath.

  “You don’t have an opinion about that?”

  “Fine, fine, fine,” Ludendorff said, facing Maddox. “Let’s go with your suppositions. I’m game if you are. We’ll assume the ball-of-light alien was Balron.”

  “Who else would he be?”

  “I don’t know. He’s Balron. I agree with you. What more do you want?”

  Maddox eyed the professor before saying, “Why did Balron barely kill me, watch the medical people resuscitate me, and later hover over me as I mended? Why not burn me down completely?”

  Some of the fear left Ludendorff’s eyes as he became thoughtful. “Balron watched the resuscitating procedure?”

  “You’re right,” Maddox said. “I don’t know that. It’s an assumption. He could have, though.”

  Ludendorff frowned, which put creases in his forehead. “I just had an idea, an explanation, one that matches with Half-Life’s supposed duties. I’ll tell you, if you don’t mind switching topics for a moment.”

  Maddox nodded.

  “Half-Life’s mission was to, and I quote, ‘record your behaviors and emotions, Captain. I am to fulfill my creative function and learn more about you.’ Don’t you see? That might have been what Balron was doing with you.”

  “Learning more about us?”

  Ludendorff snapped his fingers while pointing at Maddox. “He killed you and then came to see you healing, after the medical people had resuscitated you. How long was it between the two states?”

  “How long was I dead?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I was told it was a matter of minutes,” Maddox said. “Marines arrived as I was dying. They called medical and then grabbed me, rushing me to them. Harris told me their quick action saved my life and mind.”

  Maddox slid off the corner and sat at his desk, pressing an intercom button. “Get me Doctor Harris please.”

  After a short pause, Harris said over the comm, “Captain?”

  “Doctor, I wonder if you can tell me…well, how long I was dead.”

  Harris cleared her throat. “That’s an imprecise term. You were not dead as we judge such matters. You were clinically dead, a different thing. That means there was a cessation of blood circulation and breathing, the two criteria necessary to sustain human life.”

  “I’m aware of the difference,” Maddox said. “How long was I clinically dead?”

  “Three hundred and twenty-seven seconds,” Harris said.

  “That’s five minutes and twenty-seven seconds,” Ludendorff said from the sofa.

>   “I know what you’re thinking,” Harris said. “That was too long for the brain as ischemic injury accumulated.”

  “What is ischemic injury?” Maddox asked.

  “Our way of saying a shortage of blood to the tissues, causing a shortage of oxygen,” Harris said. “The brain is most susceptible to this and it’s the key limiting factor for successful resuscitation.”

  “Then—”

  “Captain,” Harris said. “I didn’t want to worry you or Meta earlier. We practiced our emergency procedures as we worked to resuscitate you. Something happened during the procedure. It was almost as if your brain received oxygen during your…state. We didn’t see any evidence of that, but something must have happened, as none of us recorded any brain damage later. We should have seen brain damage due to accumulated ischemic injury as three hundred and twenty-seven seconds should have been too long.”

  “This is news,” Maddox said.

  “Again, I didn’t want to worry anyone. There are such things as medical miracles and, at times, inexplicable occurrences. Or perhaps your genetic…differences did it. As the old saying goes, ‘Why look a gift horse in the mouth?’ You’re whole again. Accept it and move on.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. This has been illuminating.”

  “Are you feeling ill?”

  “I’m fine,” Maddox said. “Thanks again.” He clicked off the intercom, and frowned thoughtfully as he wished he’d known this sooner.

  “Interesting,” Ludendorff said. “The medical miracle could have been an infrared-form Balron aiding your recovery.”

  “Why? Why do what he did?”

  “That’s a good question,” Ludendorff said. “Perhaps he was studying you, us. He ‘killed’ you, stopping your heart and breathing in order to learn something. But he couldn’t learn much if you stayed dead, so he made sure you were revivable.”

  “What could he have learned?”

  “I have no idea, my boy. I’m not a ball-of-light alien. His thought process is naturally different from ours—doubly true given his obvious powers.”

  “If he’s studying us, why did he leave Victory?”

  “The answer seems simple enough. After Galyan discovered Balron’s ability to hide in the infrared…” Ludendorff stopped talking, thinking.

  “We didn’t figure out anything about Balron until the alien showed Galyan that he could hide as he did. Only then did Balron vanish for good.”