The Lost Secret
Page 46
“No,” Venna said in renewed horror as she took a step back.
“Oh, yes,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “First, let us hear your tale. I am more curious than ever. Must I use the green ray again to pry this data from you, or will you freely talk?”
Venna turned her horrified features from the Supreme Intelligence. She stared at the floor, with her shoulders hunched. “I-I can’t believe this. Yes,” she said, looking up. “I will speak freely. Please don’t use the ray on me again.”
“Show me you mean it by beginning your tale,” the Supreme Intelligence said.
“I will,” Venna said, looking spent and defeated. “It started many years ago in the Tau Ceti System…” She cocked her head as if trying to remember more. “It started when…” She concentrated as if trying with her entire being.
“Supreme Intelligence,” Strand said. “I suggest you take a precautionary measure. There is a chance—”
Venna laughed harshly. “Fools! It’s too late for that.”
“What are you attempting?” the Supreme Intelligence asked.
Before Venna could answer, golden swirls appeared around her. They whirled faster and faster, went down to the floor and then up—and with a weird sound, they disappeared, taking Venna with them.
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The others stared at the spot where Venna had been, and each appeared startled in his own way.
“Teleportation,” Strand said with sudden understanding. “She must have used teleportation. I don’t see what else it could have been.”
After a moment of contemplation, Ludendorff said, “Yes. That seems reasonable.” He nodded. “We found an old Builder teleportation device some years back. Lord Drakos used it to teleport naked suicide attackers onto our vessels. It could only teleport biological matter, however, and only from the machine to its destination, never the reverse. If this was teleportation, it was an improvement over the old Builder machine.”
“That is an interesting hypothesis,” the Supreme Intelligence said.
“Interesting?” Ural said, finally finding his voice. “This is a disaster. You’re eggheads, standing and spouting when you should be acting.”
“Before we do anything, sir,” Ludendorff replied as he turned to Ural, “we must understand the situation. Acting without knowledge is like a chicken running through a yard without its head. What do you propose we do?”
“That’s just it, something, anything but just standing here and talking,” Ural said.
“You should give them a specific action,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “In a sense, they are doing something while you’re the critic without purpose.”
“What just happened?” Ural demanded. “How did Venna disappear? Where did she go?”
“Exactly,” Ludendorff said. “We eggheads—the superior intellects, you really mean—are considering the situation. Thus, kindly keep your mouth shut as we adults contemplate the evidence.” Ludendorff snapped his fingers. “Gentlemen, I have it. Half-Life, the construct made from Balron’s specifications, teleported. Sir, you claimed Balron taught or trained Venna. Might Balron have given her the technology to do what she just did, as he gave Half-Life the same ability?”
“The hypothesis is gaining credibility,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “My question is this, however: do you know the approximate range of such teleportation? Ah. I have another question. Where would she have teleported?”
“Do you know, Professor?” Strand asked.
“I don’t know Half-Life’s range,” Ludendorff said. “It seemed extensive, but that’s just a supposition. The old machine’s range was not that great in star system terms.”
“Then only one place makes sense,” Strand said. “She must have teleported to an orbital spaceship.”
“A reasonable deduction,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “I detect the six star cruisers in low stationary orbit. There are three landed combat shuttles and one tin can. I do not perceive that Venna has appeared in any of those craft.”
“Check for an invisible orbital ship,” Maddox said, who’d been listening to them theorize, “one with excellent stealth capability.”
“I am checking, checking,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “No—wait, yes, I think you may have a point, Captain. I do detect a stealth craft. It is in low orbit. It has extensive stealth capabilities. I will begin scanning for Venna—oh.”
“What?” asked Ural. “What does ‘oh’ mean?”
“The stealth craft just vanished—jumped, I should think,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “It is gone.”
“She escaped the star system?” asked Ural, incredulous.
“That seems like a reasonable deduction,” the Supreme Intelligence said.
Golden Ural moaned, with his face in his hands as he shook his head. How had Venna managed to escape from him? He had plans for her, wanted her now more than ever. He had to think. He had to recapture her and make her his.
While Ural engaged in his quiet desperation, Maddox glanced in disbelief at Ludendorff.
The professor shrugged philosophically. “We can’t win them all.”
Ural looked up in anguish at the Supreme Intelligence. In a hoarse voice he said, “How could she have escaped from your planet?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” the Supreme Intelligence asked. “You just saw how: she teleported before I could react. Theoretically, I could have stopped her or killed her as she teleported. She had the element of surprise, however. I understood before this that surprise was a force multiplier. Now, I have witnessed a direct example of surprise’s utility. I am impressed and must remember that.”
“That’s it?” Ural asked. “She’s gone, and you’re going to give us a dissertation about surprise?”
“What would you have me do?”
“Get her back,” Ural said.
“How?”
Ural’s astonishment was palpable. “Don’t you have spacecraft at your disposal?”
“Not at present,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “If you will recall, I informed all of you that I have just regained sentience after many hundreds of years. Frankly, given the situation, I feel I have done quite well.”
“But she’s gone.”
“I have agreed to that. Yes. Venna escaped. It’s possible I might have to deal with her again, or with Spacers or Lisa Meyers confederates.”
Ural stared at the giant screen as hopelessness filled his eyes.
“You’re certain that Venna doesn’t work for Lisa Meyers,” Maddox said, speaking up.
“That is what Venna told us,” the Supreme Intelligence. “Was that the truth, however? I am not convinced.”
“I thought you could tell if we lied or not,” Maddox said.
“With you and the others that is correct,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “That did not hold true with Venna.”
“Because she’s a woman?” asked Ludendorff.
“No,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “Because one of her modifications made it impossible for me to monitor her in the same way as I do you. It is possible Venna was the most dangerous among you. I attribute that to Balron, a most formidable opponent, I must say.”
“The stealth craft left the star system then?” Maddox asked, as he glanced at his stricken Uncle Ural.
“As far as I can tell,” the Supreme Intelligence said.
Maddox ingested that. The Spacer adept was gone. Given what he’d just witnessed, she might cause future harm; he might have to deal with her a year, two years or maybe five years from now. At the moment, he had to deal with the New Men and this Supreme Intelligence.
Resetting his focus, Maddox approached the giant screen. “What do you plan to do with us, sir?”
“I am still considering the possibilities,” the Supreme Intelligence said, “although with Venna’s departure, it is no longer as critical that you all remain here for the duration of your lives. The secret will be out about me. I doubt it will help my cause if the Spacers or Lisa Meyers ar
e the only ones to know about me.”
Maddox wondered if Venna’s escape might have been for the best then. What were the Supreme Intelligence’s plans? What was the thing’s cause?
The Emperor groaned, stirring on the floor, interrupting the captain’s thoughts.
The longer Maddox eyed the tallest of the New Men—the leader of those who had abused his mother. As anger and then rage against Emperor Trahey began to fill his thoughts, Maddox’s focus slipped regarding the Supreme Intelligence. The building rage took Maddox by surprise, by storm. The longer he looked at Trahey—his limbs moved without his conscious thought. Maddox became primordial, the seeker of blood. As his features twisted, Maddox drew his monofilament blade. Like a sleepwalker, he headed for the Emperor of the Throne World.
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“I am going to have to stop you, Captain,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “According to your heart and breathing rates, your bodily position and expression, you mean to kill the Emperor.”
Golden Ural, Strand, Ludendorff and Riker turned around, seeing Maddox approaching the Emperor. The ruler of the New Men also twisted around on the floor to spy Maddox, the monofilament blade and his grim determination.
The Emperor scrambled to his feet, backpedalling away from Maddox. He was of course taller, his exposed torso-muscles stark and exhibiting lethal strength. The marks on his body and welts on his face did nothing to diminish this appearance. Maddox had the knife, but he almost seemed dull in comparison to the Emperor. Still, the New Man was backing up.
“You dare to try to stab me from behind?” the Emperor demanded.
“Like you stabbed my father from behind?” Maddox sneered as his blood pressure rose precipitously. He was thinking about his mother, about her hard life. He’d always wanted to slay her murderers. Here was his opportunity. “You’re superior to me, right?” Maddox said in a thick voice.
“Can you doubt it?”
“Then have the balls to stand and fight,” Maddox spat. “I have a knife. You have your supposed superiority. That should make us even.”
The Emperor looked up at the giant screen. “I thought you told him to drop the knife.”
“I did,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “Drop the knife, Captain, or I will make you do it.”
Maddox hesitated.
“Don’t be a fool,” Ludendorff hissed. “Drop it before it’s too late.”
Maddox halted, stunned at the extent of his rage. He shook with the desire to kill Trahey. Would he have sneaked up from behind and hacked off the man’s head?
A harsh laugh bubbled up from Maddox’s throat as the desire welled even greater than before. You bet he’d hack off the head. What a wonderful idea.
“Captain Maddox!” Ludendorff shouted. “Don’t spoil your opportunity. Use your wits. The Supreme Intelligence rules here. Act accordingly.”
Maddox glanced at Ludendorff, finally hearing what the Methuselah Man said. It made sense. Yes. Maddox exhaled and discovered that he squeezed the knife handle. He forced himself to step back several paces. He concentrated, fighting to regain control of himself. Shaking, moving slowly, he sheathed the blade in its boot scabbard and opened his sore hand.
A voice seemed to vibrate in the air. “Do you care to face me now?”
Maddox looked up as the Emperor sneered at him. Even so, a modicum of cunning seeped into the captain’s brain. This was the ultimate New Man, the supposed best of them. There was a pretext here; one he could use. “You killed my father,” Maddox said in a low voice.
The Emperor scowled. “What nonsense are you spouting?”
“He knows,” Ural said flatly. “He knows because I know. Over thirty years ago, you ordered Artaxerxes, Samos, Drakos and two others to ambush and kill Oran.”
Trahey glanced at Ural, at Maddox and then back to Ural. “Oran was plotting to overthrow me. I merely acted in self-defense.”
“If that was true,” Ural said, “why didn’t you challenge him to a duel as the code dictates?”
Trahey studied Ural for several pregnant seconds, as wheels appeared to turn in the Emperor’s mind. “How do you know what happened?”
“I told him,” Strand said.
Trahey glanced at the dwarfish Methuselah Man as understanding shined in his eyes. “After all I did for you, you sold me out?”
Strand shook his head. “Nay, Sire. The Supreme Intelligence made me tell the others. Who was I to resist him? Venna couldn’t resist him.”
“I thought you were a practiced liar,” Trahey said, “the best in the universe.”
“Sire,” Strand said, “perhaps it is better to finally have this out in the open. Oran’s death has weighed on your conscience all these years. Admit it, ask for forgiveness and purge yourself of it.”
“Don’t lecture me, Methuselah Man. You’ve committed a hundred foul deeds to my one. Why aren’t you asking for forgiveness?”
“This isn’t about me,” Strand said, holding his hands outward. “This is about you.”
Silence filled the chamber as Emperor Trahey rubbed his chin. “I can prove Oran was trying to overthrow me,” he told Ural. “He was using others to chip away at my authority. He thereby abrogated the right to a duel. I had him slain as the traitor he was.”
“You lie,” Maddox said with heat.
Trahey turned with surprise, and then become angry. “Bah! What do you know, you half-breed pup? If your father had stayed true, you would have been born a superior, one of us. Because of his treachery, his bitch fled the Throne World. You were born—”
Maddox drew the monofilament blade.
“No,” the Supreme Intelligence said.
Maddox cried out, releasing the blade, as the handle became too hot to hold. The knife clattered onto the floor.
The Emperor laughed in a superior way. “If we were on the Throne World—”
“I challenge you to a duel,” Maddox said, interrupting.
“What?” Trahey asked. “You duel with me, a beast with a man? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Are you afraid?” Maddox said. “Do you see my father in me and rightly realize that I can kill you?”
“I fear no man,” Trahey said proudly. “If you want to wrestle and die, so be it. For your father’s sake, I would let you live even after all you’ve said to me.”
“Just a moment,” Strand said, his eyes burning as they stared at Maddox. “Supreme Intelligence, could you supply us with dueling swords?”
“Rapiers, epees, what kind of swords?” asked the Supreme Intelligence.
“Sabers,” Strand said. “That’s the weapon of choice on the Throne World.”
“Do both of you wish this?” the Supreme Intelligence asked.
“No,” Ural said. “I challenge my cousin to a duel.”
“I have already placed the challenge,” Maddox told his uncle. “It is my right. While Oran was your brother, he was my father.”
Trahey glanced from Ural to Maddox. “Neither of you can defeat me. I will face and conquer whoever wishes to risk it—even though I have been under duress for some time.”
“I am uncertain now,” the Supreme Intelligence said. “I have yet to finish my inquest, although I have already reached my conclusions. Venna’s escape—yes, if you both wish it—”
“I do,” Maddox said promptly.
Trahey studied Maddox, and it seemed that his golden color grew a tad paler.
“He finally sees Oran in him as I see it,” Ural said. “You can’t let him do this, Trahey. He is Oran’s only son.”
“He has given the challenge,” Trahey said quietly. “If he recants—”
“No!” Maddox said, interrupting. “I’m going to kill you with a sword, using your code against you. Face me, or admit you’re a fraud.”
“You heard them, Supreme Intelligence,” Strand said. “If you can produce the sabers, we can get this over with and then proceed with whatever else you have in mind. We can finish this.”
“Do you hate Maddox so much you
want to see him die?” Ludendorff asked Strand.
“It’s not a matter of hate,” Strand said blandly. “They both wish it. Let them duel as their natures dictate. Who am I to stand in the way of that?”
“The sabers then,” the Supreme Intelligence said.
There was a glow on the floor. The glow intensified, darkened and then vanished, leaving two curved sabers on the floor. By some process, magnetism perhaps, both sabers slid across the floor, one to Maddox and one to Trahey.
The Emperor bent down and scooped up his saber. With his thumb, he tested its sharpness. He nodded in satisfaction, swishing the blade from side to side.
Maddox picked up his saber. It was long and curved like some old-time cavalry sword from Earth’s past, with a guard for the hand. He thrust it, swung it and tested the blade’s sharpness against a fingernail, shaving just a bit.
“Are there forms to this type of fight?” the Supreme Intelligence asked.
“Yes,” Ural said. “With your permission, gentlemen?” he said in a formal manner.
“Go ahead,” Trahey said.
Maddox nodded.
Ural faced the screen. “There is no biting, kicking or the throwing of sand in another’s eyes. This is a test of nerve, stamina and skill, of blades. I assume this is to the blood.”
“Yes,” Trahey said. “I have no need to kill him. First blood is all I require.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Maddox said, with a fire roaring in his brain.
“To the death then,” Trahey said with a shrug, “even though I do not demand it.”
Maddox stared fixedly at the Emperor.
Ludendorff was frowning, and turned on the sergeant, whispering to him.
“Supreme Intelligence,” Riker said. “May I speak to the captain before the match begins?”
“By all means,” the Supreme Intelligence said.
Riker hurried to Maddox.
“What is it?” Maddox snapped.
“Sir,” Riker said softly, and he stopped talking.
That forced Maddox to concentrate on the foolish old sergeant. He’d been waiting for Riker to speak so he could get on with this. “Well?” Maddox demanded. “What in the hell is it?”