“So you were spying.”
“Why wouldn’t you want us to know you’re wearing one of those?” Maddox asked.
A moment later, Ludendorff grinned sheepishly. “I hate spies, as you can attest. But I particularly hate mind-reading spies.”
“That isn’t the reason,” Maddox said.
“I know why,” Galyan said.
“That’s preposterous,” Ludendorff said. “You have no idea as to my motives.”
“Go ahead,” Maddox told Galyan, “why?”
“Balron.”
“Balron is why Ludendorff didn’t want us to know he was wearing an anti-T band?” Maddox asked.
“No,” Galyan said. “It is why he constructed one. Balron obviously tapped into the professor’s thoughts before. He must have done the same to you, sir. How else could he have implanted data about Half-Life into the professor’s mind and how could Balron have effectively managed his various disguises?”
“That explains why the professor wanted protection,” Maddox said. “But it doesn’t explain why he wouldn’t want the same for each of us.”
“The reason is elementary, sir, as it lies in the professor’s psychological profile. The professor still stings from Balron using him and not using you in a similar way. Yes, Balron tricked you, but only for a moment, not for weeks as it did the professor. Our learned Methuselah Man likely believes that in a sense, you bested him yet again.”
“You’re an arrogant and presumptuous holographic piece of filth,” Ludendorff said heatedly.
“Because Galyan’s wrong or because he’s right?” asked Maddox.
“Bah! This is a stupid conversation. I’m sick of it. Now tell me what you want so you can leave and let me work.”
Maddox pointed at the headband. “You made one for yourself.”
“Obviously. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“Nothing whatsoever,” Maddox said. “I’d appreciate it, however, if you made a dozen more. Clearly, you fear—you suspect Balron might reappear, and the headband is your first line of defense. I approve wholeheartedly. If we don’t have a way to hurt or destroy him, it’s good to be able to defend ourselves from him. I do have one question, though. Why worry about Balron now?”
Ludendorff scowled at the floor, sighed, shook his head and looked up, the scowl vanishing. “I’m working on a device.” He pointed at the half-finished object on the table. “It will scatter or distort light waves. I have no idea if it will affect Balron, but what the hell; at least it’s a possibility.”
Maddox nodded. “Start making more headbands, and then make me a scatter-light gun as well. We’re nearing the nexus. If the space-pyramid works, that means we’ll soon be at the Library Planet. That could reasonably trigger another Balron appearance.”
“You said ‘if it works,’ meaning the nexus, of course. Do you still doubt the nexus will function for us?”
“I’ve never been there, never used it, and the nexus is far in the uncharted Beyond. That means I’m officially troubled and have doubts until further notice. Does that bother you?”
“No…” Ludendorff said. He slid off his stool and walked to a different table. It had many scattered elements on it. He slid onto a stool there, picking up tools. “If you leave me be, I can get started right away on more headbands.”
Maddox pursed his lips. Ludendorff had made an anti-telepathic headband for himself. The professor likely had more reasons for doing that than what he’d admitted. Was there something at the nexus that would give them trouble? He was starting to wonder, which meant it was time to get ready for more problems.
“Come on, Galyan,” Maddox said. “Let’s go.”
-34-
Several days later, Victory exited a star-drive jump 192 light-years from the edge of the Commonwealth. They were in the Deep Beyond, far from any human-colonized planets and farther still from any known aliens. If they continued in this direction, they would eventually reach the Scutum-Centaurus Spiral Arm. The voyage would take years using the normal method of faster-than-light travel. Victory had been out there once, and had discovered the Sovereign Hierarchy of Leviathan, among other things. No one in Star Watch was eager to make a return voyage, nor did anyone desire to see those of Leviathan in Human Space. Hopefully, such a meeting was far in the future. Star Watch had enough on its plate without adding anything from the Scutum-Centaurus Spiral Arm.
The ancient Adok starship appeared in an uncharted system’s Kuiper Belt. As it appeared, the vessel shook once, twice—there was a pause—and then it shook for the third time, worse than ever.
“Andros,” Maddox said from his captain’s chair, as he saw the stout Chief Technician lift his head. “Is someone firing at us?”
Andros’s pudgy fingers played upon his panel. “Negative, sir. But there is—”
The starship shuddered once more.
“What’s causing that?” Maddox said, forcing himself to speak in a calm voice.
Andros adjusted his board. “It’s some kind of local disruption, sir. There are…it appears there are thousands of local disruptions. I recommend that we back up and investigate from a place of safety.”
“Back up using sub-light drive?” asked Maddox.
The ship shook again as some of the bridge panels made zapping sounds, a few sending up sparks and one black smoke.
“Jump, sir,” Andros shouted. “Jump immediately!”
“Mr. Maker,” Maddox said, with an edge to his voice.
“We’re jumping, sir,” Keith said, his fingers flying across his panel.
Maddox slumped over as the ship used the star-drive jump. Seconds later, he opened his eyes. His sight was blurry, and his head hurt. That was one of the problems with immediate jumps, doing it a second and third time without enough rest between. They all took medications against Jump Lag, and Star Watch medicine had come a long way in only a few years. Still, back-to-back jumps took a toll.
Andros groaned as he raised his head. His nose bled, the blood dripping over his lips. He wiped that with a sleeve as he manipulated his board with the other hand.
“Where did we jump?” Maddox asked a swaying Keith.
The ace put both hands on the helm panel, took a steadying breath and then made his check. “Uh… I put us ten thousand AUs out in the system’s Oort cloud.”
“Good thinking,” Maddox said. “Are you well, Mr. Crank? Or do you need to report to medical?”
“I’m fine, Captain.”
“What did we encounter back there?”
“I’m still analyzing it, sir.”
Maddox waited, letting his bridge crew preform their various tasks.
“Sir,” Andros said a couple minutes later. “I have an idea about the local distortions. They’re warped space.”
“What does that mean?”
“Bubbles of warped space might be more accurate,” Andros said. “By warped or distorted, I mean…chaos or chaotic space, the opposite of normal space. One could think of it as antimatter touching matter, but that wouldn’t be completely accurate. The warped space—the bubble of it—warps or twists whatever enters it. We hit the edge of one of the bubbles—I know that’s an imprecise term, but the distortions appear to be rounded volume areas, hence the term bubbles. The warping might have disrupted the hull where it touched us. I earnestly suggest someone take a look.”
“Galyan,” the captain called.
The AI holoimage appeared, listened to the order and the reason for it and vanished. He reappeared shortly. “Andros is correct, sir. The outer hull has ruptured in several places. It isn’t serious, as there was no deep breaching. But I suggest hull repairs are in order.”
Maddox nodded. That would give the damage control parties something to do. He spoke into the comm, giving the order. Then he asked Galyan, “What exactly happened?”
“The warped space twisted the hull plating. In some places, the plating is a different metallic substance altogether.”
“Was the space-warping bu
bble a form of missile or space mine? A weapon?” Maddox asked.
“That is an interesting question, sir. I must analyze.” Galyan’s eyelids began to flutter.
Maddox quickly became impatient. “What are you finding?” he asked Andros.
The pudgy Chief Technician had been manipulating his board, becoming more absorbed by the moment. He turned around, “The space-warped bubbles are in greater profusion and closer together the deeper in-system I scan. So far, I haven’t found any evidence of a nexus or what is causing or creating the bubbles.”
Maddox ingested that. “Could the bubbles interfere with a star-drive jump?”
“I have no idea,” Andros said.
“I do,” Galyan said, his eyelids no longer fluttering. “May I say that was a cogent question, sir, and the answer is yes.”
“Meaning the bubbles of warp might be a form of protective shield for the inner system,” Maddox said.
“Yes and no,” Galyan said, “as I believe we could negotiate around the bubbles, maneuvering through their mass into the inner system.”
“I profoundly disagree,” Andros said. “The bubbles are wobbling, shifting positions. Does the process speed up the farther one heads into the system? If so, we could attempt to maneuver, and warped-space bubbles would crash against us, twisting and destroying matter, possibly releasing the ship’s atmosphere and killing us.”
“Going farther in-system would be a risk,” Galyan admitted.
“Have you found the nexus?” Maddox asked.
“Not yet, sir,” Galyan replied.
Maddox stared balefully at the main screen. “I’m disinclined to head in-system yet. I need to know more about the warped-space bubbles, and I need to know what creates them. It sounds like a defensive system, and that means intelligence behind it. We might have to head to a different nexus.”
“Or get another opinion about the warped-space bubbles,” Galyan said.
“You mean the professor,” Maddox said. “Right. Tell him to report to the bridge.”
Galyan disappeared.
Maddox stood and approached the main screen. He turned, asking Andros, “Is there a limit to their reach or how far out the bubbles travel?”
“I can’t find any bubbles out here with us,” Andros said. “I am seeing a few one thousand AUs from the star.”
“What type of star is it?”
Andros consulted his board. “A regular G-class, sir, with…ten planets: four terrestrial and the rest gas giants.”
“Are the planets disrupted in any way?”
“None that I can detect,” Andros said.
Galyan reappeared. “The professor is hurrying here, sir.”
Maddox nodded as he put his hands behind his back. He needed more data about the system. If they’d wasted all this time and had to find another nexus… “No,” he whispered. If they did need to go elsewhere, was Ludendorff to blame for the waste of time? Why had the professor secretly made a headband? Maddox had one now, and Galyan confirmed it was functional. Ludendorff had acquiesced in the request to make more—but had being the only one with a headband been part of a larger plot, at least originally?
Maddox scowled. He didn’t want to distrust the professor. You’d think by now the Methuselah Man could have learned to be a team player. Yet, the professor was old, an old dog, perhaps—as in teaching an old dog new tricks was nearly impossible.
The bridge hatch opened and Ludendorff ran in, panting. He stared at the main screen, slowed, stopped and turned to the captain. “Where are we?”
“The Oort cloud of your nexus system.”
“Oort cloud, eh? Galyan spoke about warped-space bubbles. What did he mean by that?”
From his station, Andros began to explain.
Maddox shushed the Chief Technician, saying to Ludendorff, “I was hoping you could tell me what they were.”
Ludendorff shook his head. “I don’t believe this is a coincidence. The bubbles are obviously meant to foil us.”
“That seems far too elaborate,” Maddox said. “Why not have several battleships attack us instead of using…whatever they are?”
“Perhaps because you’ve always defeated your military enemies. This is something new.” Ludendorff chewed on the inside of a cheek. “I suspect Balron’s hand in this.”
“Possibly,” said Maddox. “Tell me, how is warped space formed?”
Ludendorff scoffed. “That’s just a term, you know. There are a variety of ways to distort or warp space. Did the ship happen to touch a warp?”
Maddox nodded.
“Did the warp tear up the hull?”
Maddox nodded again.
Ludendorff muttered under his breath, shaking his head afterward. “This is a result of Builder technology. It has to be.”
Maddox’s eyes widened. “You mean from the nexus?”
“That would be one way to cause the distortions.”
“Explain that.”
Ludendorff scoffed again. “How do you expect me to explain such an advanced concept to a scientific dunderhead like you? Believe me, it’s beyond your primitive understanding.”
Maddox stared at Ludendorff.
“I know. I know. I hurt your tender feelings. You make a great show of hardheartedness, but in reality, you—”
“Professor,” Maddox warned.
Ludendorff closed his eyes, opened them and cleared his throat. “I’m anxious, worried even about all this. Perhaps you’ll let what I just said slide, not holding it against me.”
“No worries,” Maddox said after a moment. “Tell me what you think is going on.”
Ludendorff made a point of staring at the main screen and then gave the captain a sly side-glance. “Well, uh, it’s possible the nexus has ruptured.”
“What?”
“I know. That sounds bad, and I suppose it would be, for us, anyway.”
“You told me the nexus was in a working order.”
“Perhaps Balron attacked it since then.”
“You mean he might have ruptured the nexus?” asked Maddox.
“Correct.”
“Why would a rupturing nexus cause warped-space bubbles?”
“I have two working theories,” Ludendorff said. “One of them is better for us than the other. The first theory would entail the warped-space bubbles emanating directly from a torn nexus. The second theory is that the nexus uses the hyper-spatial-tube machine to create the bubbles, doing so away from the nexus. That would be better for us because we might be able to fix the apparatus and then use the nexus for our purpose.”
“Fixing a nexus could take years,” Maddox said.
“If we could do it at all,” Ludendorff said.
“And if Balron created the problem?” asked Maddox
“Then it’s worse for us, as we might have to deal with him. The question is, how do we deal with a ball-of-light entity? My device might disrupt him or drive him away—”
“Stop,” Maddox said, holding up a palm. He regarded the main screen. Balron, Half-Life, a dead hunter named Lucas Rogers who had two Builder modifications like a Spacer adept. They had seen evidence that Spacers had been in this part of the galaxy. Now, they had run up against warped-space bubbles, of all things. They couldn’t just jump past them either; at least Galyan didn’t think they could. He didn’t care to dispute the AI in this.
“Is there a reason we need to get to the Library Planet quickly?” Maddox asked.
“You talked about Strand before,” Ludendorff said.
“I did. Do you think Strand could talk the New Men into taking him there?”
“Betting against Strand’s deviousness has always been a losing proposition,” Ludendorff said.
Maddox frowned. Was Balron, or someone, trying to slow them down from reaching the Library Planet? If so, why? Taking Victory past the warped-space bubbles seemed like a risky and therefore bad idea. Yet, if Balron or others were attempting to stop them from using this nexus in order to delay them from reaching the L
ibrary Planet, and that for a critical reason—
“We should use this nexus,” Maddox said softly.
“What was that?” Ludendorff asked.
“I’m inclined to work our way in-system.”
“Not me. If a mass of bubbles moves through us, that’s it. We’ll all die.”
“Where’s the next nearest nexus?”
Ludendorff closed his eyes as he moved his face upward. “I’m seeing one…three hundred and sixty-eight light-years away. We would continue in the same direction of travel.”
“You mean toward the Scutum-Centaurus Spiral Arm?” Maddox asked.
“Correct.”
“No,” Maddox said. “Galyan, are you sure you can guide us past the bubbles?”
“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.
“What are the ship’s probabilities of surviving the ordeal?” Ludendorff asked.
“Given what I expect,” Galyan said, “the ship would have a sixty-eight and a half percent chance of arriving intact at the nexus.”
“Are those good enough odds, Captain?” Ludendorff asked.
“Run through your guiding process again,” Maddox told Galyan. “If you can reach a seventy-two percent intact-arrival percentage, we’ll do it.”
“Working,” Galyan said, as his eyelids fluttered.”
Ludendorff muttered under his breath and shuffled his feet.
“Do you have anything else to add?” Maddox asked.
“Me?” Ludendorff said. “Not a thing.”
Galyan looked up. “Sir, I have computed a seventy-four percent intact-arrival rate. You see, I had overlooked—”
“Enough,” Maddox said. “I don’t need to hear the details. We’re going to attempt it. Now, what do we need to do to get started?”
-35-
When the Lord High Admiral told Valerie she’d be doing Patrol work, she hadn’t figured she would be a guinea pig for Victory.
The Darter Tarrypin maneuvered ahead of the mighty starship, using its delicate sensors to mark and watch every bubble of warped or distorted space in the projected flight path. The Tarrypin was the pathfinder, and with Galyan’s help, the darter had rejected three possible routes so far. Two had seemed promising. The bubbles three and later six and a half million kilometers ahead had eventually closed off each of those ways.
The Lost Secret Page 19
