The Lost Secret

by Vaughn Heppner

  “I’m quite calm, sir,” Maddox said, as he looked up at the great green head on the screen. He was also aware of Strand’s hands. If Strand tried to put them in his pockets to grab a gun, for instance, he would snap the worm’s neck and be done with him forever. “I need information from him, sir. That’s all I’m seeking.”

  “Oh?” asked the Supreme Intelligence. “Ah, ah, yes, I think I perceive the nature of your request, Captain. You wish to know the names of your father’s murderers.”

  “I do,” Maddox said. “Watch it, Strand,” he growled. “Keep your hands where I can see them. Otherwise, you’re a dead man.”

  Strand shot his arms high. “Did you hear that, Supreme Intelligence? He’s attempting to thwart your goals. Slay him before he can accomplish that.”

  “Now, now, Methuselah Man,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “I do not think that is the case. You have cunning. There is no denying that. And you put together puzzle pieces faster than any human I know. Name the murderers for Captain Maddox. That should be easy enough.”

  “I dislike giving in to threats, sir,” Strand said meekly.

  “Don’t we all,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “And yet, sometimes wisdom demands we give in just a little. Keeping these names to yourself—no, I urge you to tell the captain.”

  “Sir—”

  “Now, Strand,” said the Supreme Intelligence. “And do not lie. As I’m sure you’re aware, I have means of detecting liars.”

  “All right,” Strand said. “I’ll tell him if he releases me.”

  Maddox let go, stepping back, his right hand on the butt of his blaster.

  With a repressed sob, Strand massaged his red throat, turning and glaring at Maddox. “You filthy beast, how dare you lay hands on me?”

  “The names, Strand,” the Supreme Intelligence said, “and be quick about it.”

  The Methuselah Man glanced over his shoulder at the Supreme Intelligence and then peered at Ural.

  “Do you really know the names?” Ural asked.

  Strand nodded.

  “And you never thought to tell me?” asked Ural.

  “We’ve never been friends,” Strand said.

  “Well?” asked Ural, as he scowled. “Who are they?”

  “Artaxerxes Par is one,” Strand said. “Samos of Thetis is another. Lord Drakos was the third, and there were two others who have passed away.”

  “That’s it?” Maddox asked hoarsely. “That’s all of them?”

  Strand hesitated.

  “The truth, Methuselah Man,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “Is that all of them?”

  “No,” Strand said. “There’s one more. They’re not going to like it, though. And it could seriously complicate matters for all of us if I reveal the final name.”

  Ural stared at Strand, and suddenly, the golden one groaned and shook his head.

  “Has he guessed, Strand?” asked the Supreme Intelligence.

  “I think so,” Strand said. “The final assailant was Ural’s cousin Trahey, the Emperor of the Throne World.”

  “No,” Ural whispered. “Trahey, how could you?”

  “Trahey feared your brother for a number of reasons,” Strand said. “Oran was the greatest duelist and the noblest among you. Trahey was sure that Oran was plotting to remove him from power.”

  Ural looked up. “Was Oran actually plotting?”

  “I don’t know,” Strand said. “I simply know that the Emperor made sure Oran died that day, using the others as his killers. I believe the guilt has eaten at Trahey ever since. He doesn’t fully trust you, but I don’t believe he intends to kill you. Oran’s death plagues his dreams, if that’s any consolation.”

  “The Emperor,” Maddox whispered to himself. The Emperor of the Throne World, of all the New Men, had helped to kill his father.

  “Speak of the devil,” Riker said. “Is that the Emperor approaching?”

  Everyone turned in the direction Riker pointed. Two people advanced. One was the Emperor of the Throne World, tall Trahey himself. He held his head high, but he wore a metal brace on his bare torso, which pinned his arms behind his back. There were marks of abuse on his skin and welts on his face. He wore his usual pants, belt and boots. Behind him with an electric whip in her right hand came beautiful, dark-haired Venna. She was shorter than he was, within standard human height norms, yet still tall for a woman. She wore shimmering silver garments with a high collar hiding her neck. In her right hand was the electric whip, with sparks occasionally shooting from it against the Emperor’s back. He lurched forward at those times. In her other hand was a blaster aimed at those watching her.

  Venna displayed shocking beauty, with her thick dark hair and enchanting eyes. She had a small ruby pendant placed against her forehead. At the moment, the ruby did not glitter.

  “Don’t let the ruby’s light shine in your eyes,” Ludendorff warned. “It hypnotizes and compels sexual obedience.”

  “The final ingredient,” said the Supreme Intelligence. “Now, we shall get down to it and see what the future holds for each of us.”

  -86-

  “Ural, Strand, help me,” the Emperor called hoarsely. “Teach this bitch what happens to those who dare lèse-majesté.”

  Venna’s eyes swirled with malice as she lashed the Emperor with the electric whip. “On your knees, dog, or I’ll burn your legs to stubs. You’ll be alive, but a cripple for the rest of your life. Obey me, slave!”

  “Enough of that,” the Supreme Intelligence said.

  The sparks died in her whip. Venna glared at it, pressing the button. She looked up in time to see the Emperor. He’d turned around and now attempted to kick her. She jumped back, raised the blaster and pulled the trigger—nothing happened.

  The Emperor gave an evil laugh as locks clicked open within the metal brace. He twisted and surged, and the pieces parted, clanking to the floor. With a roar, he raised his clenched fists. “Now, bitch, now you will learn—”

  “HOLD,” the Supreme Intelligence said loudly, interrupting the New Man. “I did not release you so you could fight.”

  The Emperor stopped talking but otherwise did not heed the green head. He charged Venna. She screamed, hurling the useless blaster at him. The Emperor swatted it aside, knocking it forty meters away. With another leap, he reached for a dodging Venna—

  A blue nimbus from the ceiling lashed down like a lightning bolt and encircled Trahey, making him stiffen and groan dreadfully. Abruptly, the nimbus retreated to the ceiling. Emperor Trahey crumpled unconscious onto the floor.

  “My will rules here,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “Do any of you doubt that? Please, speak up if you do. I will instruct you directly through an application of pain. No? Very well. Venna, come here. Join the others.”

  First staring at the crumpled Emperor and then the Supreme Intelligence, she frowned as if calculating. With a nod and a smoothing of her features, she skirted Trahey and edged near Riker and Ludendorff, keeping away from Ural, Strand and—she eyed Maddox, frowning again, moving away from him too.

  “I’m Professor Ludendorff,” the Methuselah Man said—his eyes full of admiration for Venna. He held out his right hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Venna stared at his outstretched hand and then at Ludendorff, her features transforming as if he were offensive offal. “You’re a Methuselah Man,” she said, as tasting a lemon.

  “Oh,” Ludendorff said, as if seeing her for the first time. He turned to the Supreme Intelligence. “She’s a Spacer.”

  Venna reacted as if Ludendorff had slapped her. “Shut up, you old goat.”

  “Woman,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “You will comport yourself with decorum while amongst us. If you cannot, I can render you temporarily inert like your former master. If you can maintain yourself, I will tell you what I’ve learned from the others so far. First, you will relate your story. Afterward, I will render my verdicts, and the lot of you can be on your way.”

 
; Venna studied the great green head on the screen. She looked back at the Emperor lying on the floor. He did not stir, although he breathed.

  “Just so you know,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “I am aware of your training by Balron the Traveler.”

  Venna bit her lower lip, for the first time appearing frightened.

  “It would be best if you began talking,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “I’m sure we’re all interested in what you have to say.”

  “I certainly am,” Strand said.

  “Me too,” Ural said with a nod.

  “Count me as the third,” Ludendorff said, his eyes once again full of appraisal regarding her. Perhaps in his eyes, her beauty outweighed the fact that she was a Spacer and thus an automatic foe of Methuselah Men.

  Venna glanced at Golden Ural, and she gave him a timid smile. It was possible the barest glint shined from her forehead ruby.

  Ural stepped toward her as his eyes began to glaze over with desire.

  “Uncle,” Maddox said. “She’s using you.”

  “Uncle?” asked Venna, as she glanced at Maddox. “Oh. I know who you are,” she said in a sensuous purr. “Captain Maddox, is it not?”

  Maddox squinted as the ruby glowed with greater power, and he jerked his head away a second later. She was lovely, gorgeous even, but he had…had… Meta, he told himself. I love Meta…my wife. Meta is my wife.

  “Oh, Captain Maddox,” Venna called lightly, playfully.

  Maddox shook his head while scowling at the floor, resisting her siren call.

  “Am I not beautiful?” Venna asked in a silky voice.

  “Yes,” Ludendorff said, slack-jawed as he eyed her with intense hunger. “My dear, you must join me on Victory. There’s so much I can show you.”

  “I’d love to join you,” Venna purred, the ruby shining like a star on her forehead.

  Ludendorff grinned like a satyr as he envisioned what they would do together. She would be his pearl of love. He would make her moan with delight as he showed her the marvel of his bedroom skills.

  “You’ll never join him on Victory!” Ural shouted. “I claim you as mine. If I have to duel the Emperor—all of you—I will. You will enter my harem, woman. This I swear.”

  “Really, Ural?” Venna asked. “You claim me? Why, what would you do with me once you had me?”

  “I’d show you,” Riker muttered in a daze.

  “No!” Ural shouted. “I will defeat you, too. Venna is mine, mine!”

  Strand did not stare at her face or look at the glowing ruby. He watched her sidelong, suspicious and scowling. Then he observed the others, noting their states. Lastly, he looked up at the screen. The Supreme Intelligence observed, obviously studying the event.

  Maddox had balled his hands into fists as he shook with desire. He would not look at the woman. She was too intoxicating. She drew him, and that wasn’t right. Meta was his wife. He was loyal to her. Venna…was using them. What had Ludendorff said before? She was a Spacer. It was possible Venna possessed Builder items or modifications inside her, was an adept in Spacer power. Balron had trained her, making her many times more dangerous than otherwise, an ultra-adept possibly.

  Venna laughed with delight as she threw her arms into the air. “What men you are! I’m weak with desire seeing you virile specimens of manhood. I…I don’t know which of you to love first. Who desires me the most?”

  “I do,” Ludendorff said hoarsely. “Surely you must know that I’m the greatest lover in the universe.”

  “Stand aside, old man,” Riker said, muscling his way forward. “She’s for me.”

  “You are both less than I,” Ural said proudly. “I will possess her body, soul and spirit. She will be forever mine.”

  Maddox shouted, and he rushed Venna with his head half turned to the side.

  “What are you doing?” Venna cried. “Stay away from me.”

  Maddox did not stay away. He reached for her. She slapped the hand away. He reached with his other hand. She jumped to the side and glowered at him.

  Maddox grunted as an invisible force struck him.

  “How dare you?” Ural cried, drawing a blaster, aiming it at Maddox and pulling the trigger. No energy burst forth, however.

  “I’ll put a stop to that,” Ludendorff said, as he pulled a small device from his pocket. He pressed it, looked up with evil glee and frowned when nothing happened. “This is remarkable. It should work.” He shook his device and pressed the switch again.

  Maddox groaned, still doubled over and clutching his stomach, it seemed, from whatever the Spacer adept had done to him.

  “Stay away from me,” Venna warned.

  While bent over, Maddox snarled, and he uncoiled and leapt at her, groaning as she glowered again. This time, however, he was ready and endured the force and pain. He stumbled at her, trying to grab—she sidestepped barely fast enough. Maddox pulled the monofilament blade from his boot. He knew how to deal with a Spacer foe.

  “Die!” Venna said, her right arm outstretched and her palm forward.

  “No,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “That is quite enough of a demonstration. I’m convinced you’re dangerous, more than a match for any of them.”

  Venna’s right arm dropped as she stared at the green head in surprise. “How did you do that? How did you stop the attack?”

  “Captain,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “Put away your knife. I’ll slag it into a lump if you do not. I’m turning that ruby off.”

  The ruby on Venna’s forehead quit shining.

  Venna moaned as if the deactivation hurt her in some manner.

  Maddox studied his knife, glanced at the green head watching him and sullenly put it away in the boot sheath.

  “Better,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “You others, step back from her.”

  Ludendorff, Riker and Ural would not. Suddenly, a force must have struck each, because each staggered backward. They staggered backward again.

  “I’m staying away, sir,” Ludendorff said.

  “Yes,” Riker said, as if waking up while shaking his head. “I’ve had enough. I don’t know what she did to me.”

  Ural staggered back a third time and rubbed his face as he groaned. Taking his hands away, he blinked, frowned and then turned from Venna, perhaps surprised at how easily she’d ensnared him.

  The Supreme Intelligence studied Venna, finally remarking, “I must say, I’m impressed with you and the speed at which you operate. You would have easily dominated the situation if I’d allowed it. But then, you were trained by the most dangerous being in our universe. It shows in how you dared to land alone on the Throne World, inserting yourself into the Emperor’s harem. Only a supremely confident adept could have dared such a thing.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t mention any of that,” Venna said quietly.

  “I’m sure you do,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “But this is an inquest, and the offenders are all baring their souls, in a colloquial manner of speaking. That will now include you. Hmm. It would seem that you risked everything by coming to my planet, risked, almost won but then lost. You are a Spacer, as the professor noted. I am unsure, however, if you work for the Spacer Nation or if you’ve hired yourself to Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. Clearly, you aided Balron, and he altered you. At this point, I want to know the specific details of your pact with him.”

  Venna stared fixedly at the Supreme Intelligence, seeming to swell with purpose. “I serve the Builders. If you serve them as well—which I suspect you do—you will say no more about me.”

  “You are mistaken,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “I indeed serve the Builders. You, at best, serve a perverted ideal of them, or use their memory for your own nefarious ends. I have grown weary of your stalling, however. I desire to hear your tale. These gentlemen wish to hear it as well.”

  “Swine,” Venna said. “They’re swine, thinking only of themselves and their grossest appetites. I’m stunned anyone thinks highly of any of them. Do you know how
easily I manipulated the supposed supermen of the Throne World?”

  “If it’s anything like what I just witnessed—I’m keen to hear how you did it,” the Supreme Intelligence said, sounding hopeful.

  Venna hesitated, perhaps reconsidering her boast. “I’m curious how you know about Balron? He told me the Library Planet was inert and empty of life.”

  “It was, in a way,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “You changed that by activating an old failsafe by shutting off the ancient field around the C.I. Nubilus. I have been analyzing the situation ever since. I’m curious about one thing in particular. Did you intend to use the Emperor as a puppet for your rule of the Throne World, or would you have sold Trahey to Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers?”

  “I don’t have to answer you,” Venna said.

  “You are quite mistaken,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “Let me give you an example of what I mean. First, the question. Do you serve Lisa Meyers? Second, the coercion—” A green ray beamed from the screen into Venna’s face, shining in her eyes.

  It was Venna’s turn to appear slack-jawed. She moved her lips, moved them again, and said in a monotone, “Damn Lisa Meyers. The Methuselah Woman is a fool. She had no idea how to use her powers. She holds the Glorious Kent and a Builder in stasis. After all this time, has she awakened the Great One and served his interests? No, she has not. Lisa Meyers mouths platitudes about serving the Builders but does nothing more. She yearns for self-aggrandizement. I have learned many things from Balron. I have also learned from poking in the ruins of the Library Planet. The Spacers alone understand the greatness of the Builders. The Builders shall rise again, and the Spacers shall be their loyal servants for all time.”

  “That is quite interesting to say the least,” the Supreme Intelligence said, as the green ray ceased shining.

  Venna stumbled forward, rubbing her forehead and staring with horror at the huge screen. “How did you make me say that? I’m conditioned against revealing secret lore.”

  “And you think to revive the Builders,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “No. I think some other agency, some other alien, uses the Spacers. We are about to discover whom.”