“What?”
“The shepherd moons. The Elders must have towed a pair of asteroids into orbit, and set them up to prevent the ice ring from falling apart.”
“Why would they do that?”
“They would do it for the purpose of preventing the ice from eventually falling back down onto the planet, Joe. As to why they would care, I have no idea. They apparently never stayed very long down there, if they landed at all. There are no ruins on the surface. No structures below the surface either, nothing like what we found on Gingerbread. Neither of the two remaining gas giant planets have any facilities in orbit, or on any of the moons there, and I looked very carefully. Because of what we found, or didn’t find, at other star systems with an Elder presence, I looked for signs of Elder sites that had been destroyed or removed. Nothing. Zippy. Zero. I didn’t find anything.”
“That makes no sense, Skippy. Why did the Elders come all the way out here, and go through all the trouble of stretching out the life of the star, plus make the surface of Avalon habitable for land-based organisms, if they didn’t use this star system for some useful purpose?”
“How the hell do I know, Joe? The Elders were immensely powerful, creating wormholes to get here might not have been any big deal to them. Maybe they came here just to get a good view of the Milky Way galaxy, and they landed on this planet for a picnic.”
“Then why lock the local wormhole with a password?”
“Again, I have no idea. Maybe after they went back through the wormhole, one of the Elders realized he lost his car keys during the picnic, and the others didn’t want to go all the way back to get the keys. They locked the wormhole so nobody could steal the keys.”
“I’m trying to be serious, Skippy.”
“I am trying to be serious, too. You are speculating on the motives of a species as far beyond you, as you are to bacteria.”
“Ok, fine. The Elders didn’t leave any sign of their presence here-”
“Not no sign, Joe. There is the ring. And a missing planet. More importantly, there is that password-locked wormhole. I’m going to get myself in trouble by saying this but, if the Elders did not want me to find something here, then logically I would not see it.”
“I guess that makes sense. They would know how to conceal something from you.”
“That, plus something even worse. There could be something subtle, or even obvious in the sensor data, but a hidden subroutine in my matrix could be concealing the data from my conscious self.”
“That password thing is really bothering you.”
“Yes! There is a part of me I did not know about. What else is in my matrix that I am not aware of? Wouldn’t you be upset?”
“Upset? If that happened to me, I would be curled up in a ball, sucking my thumb and crying for my mommy,” I admitted. “I don’t know how you keep going, except you are stronger than me.”
“Oh. Hmm, you missed a golden opportunity to insult me. I expected you to-”
“Sometimes when a buddy is hurting, you just have to listen.”
“Gosh. That was nice. I guess I have a lot to learn about being a good friend. Uh, this is kind of awkward. You don’t want us to hug it out, do you?”
“Uh, no. Besides, there are hundreds of other things for me to insult you about.” While I wanted to support Skippy, the mushiness was too much for me.
“You are such an asshole, Joe.”
“I love you, too, Skippy. Back to the subject, is there anything else interesting, other than not finding many signs of the Elders being here?”
“Hmmm, let me think. No, not really. Although, there is something mildly funky.”
Hearing the word ‘funky’ set off my Spidey senses. “Like what?”
“This planet has been subjected to periodic bombardment by meteor showers. Like, big ones. Before you ask, no, this was not an artificial event, what I found was just simple falling space rocks. Some events were a sustained series of impacts scattered over the entire surface. Those were generally the earlier ones. More recent events have been confined to a dozen or so impactors in a local area. By ‘local’ I mean an area the size of Europe. The earliest events were significant, but nothing that would wipe out all life on the surface. They did cause ice ages, I can see from the climate data that Avalon has experienced ice ages that cannot be explained by variations in the star’s output, by volcanic ash blocking sunlight, or by sudden decreases in gases such as carbon dioxide or methane. These ice ages closely follow meteor impacts. Some of the ice ages were severe enough to cause significant extinction events. We will know more when, or if, the survey team digs deeper into Avalon’s past. None of that matters now.”
“Bombardment by meteors? That is a problem. Does this system have a lot of comets or something? We can’t set up a colony here, if our people have to worry about getting smacked on the head by space rocks.”
“No, no, Joe. This system’s asteroid belt is relatively small, and it is stable. The Oort Cloud and Kuiper Belt here are nothing unusual either. Maybe this star has a dark companion, or there is a planet way out past the Oort Cloud, that periodically causes rocks and iceballs to fall into the inner system. This is a minor mystery, not anything I want to spend a lot of time investigating. These impacts make life difficult for land plants and animals, their evolution has a setback with every major impact. Or, maybe being forced to adapt to sudden ice ages forces them to evolve faster. Truthfully, I don’t care. My scan of the system out to a quarter lightyear has not detected any threat. There are at least half a million years between impacts, and the last event occurred a hundred seventy thousand years ago. No colonists here need to worry about space rocks. By the time you monkeys manage to set up a functioning, self-supporting colony here, you should also have a meteor warning system, and tugs to tow threatening rocks out of an intercept course.”
“Ok, if you say so.” Part of me was disappointed, because if the meteors were a major threat, that might justify my continued uneasiness about Avalon. “Anything else?”
“Joe, everything I know about Avalon indicates it is perfect for a beta site. No way could a hostile species like the Maxolhx or Rindhalu get here. The only issue is whether the Dutchman can go through the local wormhole without me. If I have to be here every time to provide the password, then setting up this beta site is going to be a major pain in my ass. I have better things to do than ferry groups of filthy monkeys out here. I am not a freakin’ bus driver.”
“That is a great point. Can we test that? See if Nagatha can provide the password?”
“We can try, but remember, the password has to go through me anyway, unless we can find or build some way for Nagatha to communicate through higher spacetime. She will need that to use the wormhole controller anyway.”
“So, we’re good, then? In your very experienced, knowledgeable opinion then, there is no reason this planet would not be a good candidate for a beta site?”
“There is only one reason, Joe. I have a bad feeling about this. Don’t ask me why, because I can’t explain it, not even to myself. It is embarrassing that I am using squishy things like ‘feelings’,” he said the word with disgust. “To make decisions.”
“Well,” I sat back in my chair. “Shit.”
Skippy having a bad feeling about Avalon got me nervous again, and after I discussed it with Chotek, he agreed we should keep looking for another beta site candidate. The Three Stooges disagreed, and they outvoted Chotek. In their opinion, Skippy was only saying he had a bad feeling, because he wanted to keep humanity dependent on him. In their opinion, the prospect of humans having a secure place of refuge, and a starship that Nagatha could operate and maintain for us, had made Skippy fearful about his future. I have to admit, a tiny part of me wondered if that was what Skippy was feeling, because I sure was feeling that way.
“I’m sorry, Skippy,” I said gently after I squeezed into his mancave, being careful not to bump my head or disturb his possessions. Bad news was best delivered in person. “
The Commissioners voted three to one in favor of recommending Avalon as a beta site.”
“Of course they did,” his can glowed an angry red. “Why listen to the opinion of an impossibly intelligent being, when ignorant monkeys can make their own stupid decisions?”
“It is not a decision, Skippy. It’s just a recommendation to the UN. You can make your argument to the full UN when we get home. They might be smart, and either pull us off Avalon, or look for a second site.”
“A second site?” He was puzzled.
“Sure. Why settle for one beta site, when we could have more than one? It spreads our risk around.”
“It also spreads you thin, Joe. Your planet doesn’t have unlimited resources. I think it is foolish to continue searching, after you knuckleheads think you have already discovered the Promised Land. You should-”
“Skippy!” I looked toward the open hatch, to see if anyone was waiting outside. “Not all of us knuckleheads agree Avalon is the best place for a beta site. Plus, think about this: searching for a second beta site candidate keeps us flying, you see? The Stooges were right about one thing. If Avalon is the only refuge we need, then the UN won’t always need you or me. Nagatha can help a new crew handle the ship, and ping relay stations to recon for threats. I’m not ready to hang up my uniform just yet, you know?”
“Huh. I had not thought about that, Joe. Damn, dealing with you monkeys is way too freakin’ complicated.”
“It would help if you could explain why you have a bad feeling about Avalon.”
“I have been thinking about that.”
“And?”
“I got nothing’, Joe. I can’t explain it. Now I’m wondering if the Stooges were right.”
“Uh, what do you mean?”
“Maybe my bad feeling is because I’m afraid you monkeys don’t need me anymore.”
“Hey, I need you. And monkeys sure as hell will need you if, or when, bad shit happens again. The Universe is not going to forget about all the crap I did out here, is it?”
“No, Joe,” he chuckled. “That is a good point. The Universe is going to get payback on you, one way or another. Ok, I will prepare an argument to present to the UN.”
The time had finally come for the Flying Dutchman to return to Earth. Shockingly, all four UN Commissioners now agreed that Avalon was such an ideal candidate for a beta site, that they were recommending we move to Phase Two. That meant the Dutchman would fly back to Earth, get the UN’s approval, and bring a second, larger survey team. The estimate was for us to be away less than a month, so the Three Stooges decided to remain there with Chotek, until the Dutchman returned. My feeling was they didn’t want Hans Chotek to get all the glory.
Anyway, we had the ship fully unloaded, and what had been a small camp of shelters was becoming a busy little village. Processors were already churning out fuel for aircraft, and we had three V-22 Osprey tiltrotor aircraft unpacked, assembled and flight-ready. The Osprey was not as capable as the Ruhar Buzzard I had flown aboard on Paradise, but the V-22 had the simple advantage of being available, because the nearest Buzzard was in the Milky Way. We had a constellation of thirty mini-satellites in low orbit, plus another four in geosynchronous orbit. The survey team would have four Kristang Dragons, plus our only remaining Thuranin Condor. Giving up the big Condor made me nervous, but it was the price I gladly paid to make the Commissioners comfortable about not having a starship nearby.
We would also be leaving behind the entire science team. Chang would be the military commander, with Simms as his deputy. Renee Giraud would stay behind with a STAR team of eighteen people. Basically, the Dutchman would be flying back with a skeleton crew. Smythe insisted he needed to keep a dozen STARs with us aboard the ship just in case, well, in case the Universe decided to give the Merry Band of Pirates another typical Tuesday. There was no lack of volunteers. The novelty of being on an alien world had already worn off, and most of the STARs foresaw being on Avalon as nothing more than dull garrison duty, babysitting egghead scientists while they looked at oversized native ferns. In my opinion, Smythe wasn’t interested in staying on Avalon, because he didn’t foresee any prospect for action there.
For the last afternoon before we packed up and flew back into orbit, I opened a special container that had been requisitioned by me personally. The container held three barbecue grills, with bags of charcoal.
That’s right. Before we left Avalon, for what might be my last flight aboard the Flying Dutchman, I grilled delicious cheeseburgers for everyone. Except for the vegetarians, of course, Simms had an alternative menu for them. Because I was hosting the event, and in charge of cooking the burgers, of course I had a responsibility to make sure the burgers were good.
That is how I ate the first cheeseburger in the Sculptor Dwarf galaxy.
It was DEE-licious.
Two days later, the crew was back aboard the Dutchman, approaching the password-locked wormhole. This was our opportunity to see whether the wormhole would accept the password from Nagatha, transmitted through the wormhole controller module. Skippy was optimistic about it, figuring that because he had programmed most of Nagatha’s matrix, she was basically Elder technology. The wormhole controller module was certainly Elder tech also, so they should be compatible.
Perhaps ‘optimistic’ was not the right word to describe Skippy’s mood. In fact, he was downright gloomy. His attitude had me concerned enough to close my office door and call him. “Hey, Skip, what’s going on with you? You’ve been kinda down the past couple days.”
“You don’t know what’s bothering me? I am disappointed. I thought we were buds.”
“Sue me for not knowing what’s going on in your awesome brain. Give me points for caring, Ok?”
“Fair enough. Joe, I am depressed. Also, if you want the truth, I am slightly irked at you monkeys. Also at myself, I suppose.”
That might have been the first time I heard someone use the word ‘irked’ to describe themselves. “I am listening. Why?”
“We originally started this partnership to secure a future for the people of Earth, and to help me contact the Collective. Technically, the purpose of contacting the Collective was to help me understand who I am and where I came from.”
“Ayuh, I do remember that.”
“What irks me is, everything we have been doing for years, has been for the benefit of you filthy monkeys. Ok, I know that one year of that time was for getting me out of a little slip-up that-”
“Slip-up? Little?”
“Let’s not dwell on the past, Joe. We all know the story of how I pulled you monkeys out of a jam in the Roach Motel.”
“You pulled us out of a-” Holding my tongue was not easy, I only did it because arguing would drag him off on a tangent and we would argue back and forth for hours. “The past is past, got it. Go on, please.”
“My point is, assuming Avalon is the beta site, your mission is now complete. Against all odds, and certainly to my surprise, the Merry Band of Pirates succeeded, impressively. Your homeworld is safe for the next couple hundred years. After they read the bullshit cover story I planted, the Maxolhx will have no reason for coming to your homeworld, and the Rindhalu are too lazy to bother. There are no threats to Earth on the horizon, and you will have a beta site as a backup in case of the truly unlikely event that another threat develops. Joe, I once told you I did not see any way for humanity to survive. Now, my view of the future does not contain any reason humanity should not be left alone for hundreds of years. Your mission is complete, Joe, your part of the story is over.”
“Uh, well, shit, Skippy, I don’t know if-”
“Do not argue with the Universe, Joe.”
“Good safety tip. Let’s say Earth is safe. Why is that a bad thing?”
“Because you promised me I would find the truth about myself.”
“We also agreed to punish whoever wiped out the inhabitants of Newark, but that ship has sailed, right? An Elder AI went crazy and killed the intelligent species the
re, but that AI is dead. There’s no one to take revenge on. It sucks, but it is what it is, right?”
“On that part, I reluctantly agree. It angers me that AI got off so easily, however I do not see anything else we can do about it. That is beside the point, Joe. You made a promise to help me get answers to the mystery of my origin.”
“Ayuh I did, and I intend to keep that promise.”
“You say that, but words are cheap. How will you keep your promise? Your plan is to turn the Flying Dutchman into a cruise ship, cycling back and forth between Earth and Avalon. Your United Nations will never agree to send the ship out on another mission that risks exposing your secret. It’s over, dude, it is over. We had a nice bit of excitement when a ship of frozen lizards attacked Dayton Ohio, but that’s finished.”
“Come on, Skippy, don’t be a drama queen.”
“Drama queen? Me?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking,” to that statement I added a mental eyeroll. “Listen, we agree we need a new ship to protect Earth, a real warship. The Dutchman can become a civilian cruise ship only if we have another ship for, like, recon missions. The UN sure as hell will want to be updated on what aliens are doing out there. That means we need a ship going out to ping a relay station every six months or something like that.”
“A simple, quick recon mission won’t do anything for me, Joe.”
“Well, the ship could do other things on those missions.”
“You just said the UN would never allow a mission that risks-”
“I have stolen starships before, Skippy. It’s become kind of my thing, you know?”
“Really? You would do that, for me?”
“Bullshit. Humanity will do that for you. We owe you, big time. Skippy, I may be a mutinous, insubordinate son of a bitch, but I am also Army, more than I ever intended to be. Loyalty means just about everything to us soldiers.”
“I will hold you to that promise, Joseph Bishop.”
Armageddon Page 19
