The device was an amulet, roughly similar to the one that Betula was wearing, only the harness it was mounted on looked like it was designed to be worn by a Custodian.
"Very good, Bobrik! That thing might come in really handy.
The transfer of one of the chambers out of the cargo container went more smoothly than expected. Taking no chances, Kozloff, who donned his spacesuit again, demanded a heavy guard at every step of the process. Corporal Chernov and his men were able to wrestle one of the chambers closest to the door away from the wall and over into the doorway. They then jockeyed it onto an antigrav cargo transfer platform and took it out into the middle of the cargo bay.
"Corporal?" said Kozloff. "Make sure the door to that container is locked down and sealed."
"Aye, aye, captain," said the husky marine.
Nuriyev and Bobrik, also back in spacesuits, were waiting in the corridor just outside the hatch to the cargo bay with the dead alien on another antigrav transfer plate. Three marines and six sailors, two of them carrying restraining-net launchers and the others armed with projectile weapons, encircled the module.
Kozloff looked the setup over and concluded it was about the best they could do.
"Okay, Ensign, bring in the specimen."
Nuriyev and Bobrik maneuvered the transfer plate over next to the solitary module. Bobrik raised the plate to the necessary height above the bay deck and jockeyed the alien into position. Nuriyev grasped the claw and opened it to expose the single blade. Having decided the claw should be in the same position as it would be if the creature were standing upright next to the chamber, she twisted it so the single blade was horizontal and in position to be inserted into the 'keyhole.'
"Is everyone ready," she asked.
Kozloff looked around at the entourage in the cargo bay and nodded his head. "Go ahead, ensign, put the claw into the keyhole.
Tatiana stretched the arm out and pushed the single blade of the creature's upper left claw through the tiny force screen.
Nothing happened for a long moment. Then there was an audible click, and the fog within the module began to clear rapidly from the top down, as though it were being sucked into the base.
"That's done it!" shouted Kozloff. "Everybody get ready to trap this thing when it comes out. Nuriyev? You and Bobrik get that specimen out of here now!"
Chapter 51. Teddy's Island.
Earth, Key West Island, October 15, 2676.
Cyrus Keeling hustled Zack and the others onto a battered groundtruck and drove them about a kilometer down the landing strip and over to a staging area where an aeroplane was parked. On the ground near the loading ramp of the sleek little craft, two men waited. Both of them looked Malus over intently as the Hordean emerged from the truck. They had, of course, been briefed about the alien, but seeing him in person was still shocking. As soon as all of the expedition members had piled out of the truck, Cyrus performed introductions.
"Everyone, this our pilot, Harley Jamison." He indicated a husky black man. "And this is Soichiro Yamato, his co-pilot." A short, slightly built man of Asian descent nodded his head. He then introduced the members of the team, saving Malus for last. Both men wore guarded smiles as they "shook hands" with the alien.
Meanwhile, several more members of Cyrus' very efficient ground crew went about transferring everyone's gear into the cargo bay of the aeroplane.
Introductions completed, and cargo loaded, Cyrus, the two pilots and the expedition members boarded the plane and strapped in. As before, Malus tangled himself in a cargo net attached to the rear bulkhead of the passenger compartment.
After a short warm up, during which the pilots ran through their preflight checks, the ship taxied to the end of the runway, turned, and accelerated for no more than three hundred meters before lifting off and rising up at a steep angle. After a couple of minutes, the aeroplane banked towards the north and continued climbing up to an altitude of about ten kilometers. Once there, the plane leveled off and settled into cruise mode. Jamison set the controls on auto and came back to the passenger area. Yamato stayed in the cockpit.
"Cyrus said you might have some questions," said the big pilot.
"Yeah," said Zack. "How long before we get to Washington DC?"
"At our present cruising speed," replied Jamison, "a little under three hours."
"What's the plan after we get there?"
"We'll spend the night there and transfer you over to your destination in the morning, using one of our quadcopters."
"Is that safe," asked Ariane.
"What do you mean?"
"How is that you can set your quadcopter' down away from the compound without inviting an attack?"
"Surprise, for the most part," said Jamison. "The local bad guys are so used to the quadcopter coming down into the compound on a regular basis they hardly pay attention to it anymore. When we drop you off, the quadcopter will be on the ground and off again in under a minute. The natives won't have time to get anything organized before we're already gone. Just in case, we'll have four heavily armed men on board covering the landing zone. Not only that, all of you will be armed and in your armor."
"What about afterwards?" asked Zack.
"Getting you back out of there is a lot trickier," said Jamison. "I can't just come back and pick you up. After we drop you off, you're going to attract a lot of attention. Going back to get you, especially near where we dropped you off, would be asking for trouble. I hate to tell you this, but you'll have to get back over to our compound on your own. Maybe in a life or death situation we could pick you up from the roof of one of the taller buildings. Even then it would be pretty risky."
"How do we go about getting back to the compound?" asked Ariane.
"You'll have to use the city streets. I'll give you the coordinates," replied Jamison. "Your target is about six kilometers from our island. You should be able to get back to the enclave within two or three hours, if you don't run into any serious trouble. Be careful at the intersections, the natives love to set up ambushes in them."
"Thanks for the advice," said Erik.
"My pleasure," said Jamison. "I'd like to see you folks get back off this planet safely." He appeared to be lost in thought for a moment. "There is one more thing," he said.
"And that is...?"
"I don't know if it's really worth mentioning, but there have been some really strange rumors making the rounds."
"What kind of rumors?" asked Zack.
Jamison took a glance back at Malus. "Something about the planet being invaded by aliens from outer space. A 'super bug' or some such. I wouldn't even mention it except it has the tribes pretty well riled up and it could make them even more skittery than usual. Hard to say what they might do."
The members of the expedition exchanged some worried glances. If the rumors were true, then the aliens Jamison was describing were real and they were almost certainly Custodians, probably here to take advantage of the disorganized populace and dupe the people of Earth into interfering with the citizenship process. Zack silently prayed he was wrong, that the aliens hadn't begun invading Earth yet, but he had to face facts. Given how bad the situation was in Soviet space, it came to him with a jolt that the invasion here was almost certainly in progress, maybe even in high gear.
"Custodians," said Zack.
"Custodians?" asked Jamison.
"Yeah, Custodians. They're an alien race that looks like some kind of oversized beetle."
"Where the hell did they come from?"
Zack took a few minutes to outline what was going on with Mankind, the Custodians and the Galactic Amalgamation of Civilized Planets."
"You mean these rumors about aliens might be true?" asked Jamison.
"Yeah," said Zack.
"This mission just got a whole lot tougher," said Erik.
"I don't know that this changes anything," said Ariane. "We still need to retrieve the artifact."
"I know," said Zack. "All of us will need to stay extra alert. From what we know, our wea
pons should be powerful enough to take out a Custodian."
"Thanks for the information, Jamison," said Ariane. "Not knowing there might be Custodians could have been a disaster."
"My pleasure," replied the pilot. "Now if you'll excuse me, we're supposed to run into some weather."
Jamison went back to the cockpit while the members of the expedition discussed their strategy, including changes in their plans due to the possible presence of Custodians. The "weather" turned out to be about an hour of minor turbulence but no more than that.
An hour or so later, after gradually descending to about a thousand meters, the aeroplane was flying over the extensive ruins of an old city. It was not a pretty sight. Much of the city had burned at one time or another. Some of the taller buildings were still standing, but the majority of the windows in them were broken and lying in shards in the streets below. Others had crumbled to the ground or were in various states of collapse. For people who had been raised on planets and in cities that were vibrant and alive, it was a sober reminder of how fragile civilization could be.
Jamison guided the aeroplane above the Potomac River, following it to Keeling's island base. There he lined the craft up with another short airstrip and set it down. He slowed the aeroplane to a crawl and turned the craft around before taxiing over to a jumble of low buildings right near the center of the airstrip. After braking to a stop and shutting down the engines, he said, "Okay, we're here. Everybody grab your stuff and get off."
***
Deimos, October 15, 2676.
The four symbologists had been working on the new material presented to them after they'd finished the second activation of the Sentinel Key. During the activation, the pyramid had lifted up and shifted position, revealing a whole new set of symbols. So far, things weren't going all that well.
"This doesn't make any sense," said MacPherson. "It's like nothing we already accomplished is any help at all."
"These inscriptions were done in a completely different style," said Olga. "Some of symbols look vaguely familiar, and yet..."
"...and yet they are totally foreign," added Kathryn.
"You had the insight that got us going on the right track last time, Kathy," said MacPherson. "Any ideas?"
"Not yet," she replied, "but, to be truthful, we haven't been at this all that long.
"There is always the chance that whatever the Archeon gift turns out to be will help," said Arnold.
"Maybe," said the Professor, "but that doesn't mean we should stop trying. What about you Arnold, have you had any new visions lately?"
"Nearly every night, but lately they've all been the same. I see the box with what looks like a book in it and the visions fade into marching Custodians and humans performing slave labor."
"You'd think there'd be something," said Kathryn.
"I keep hoping," said Arnold. "The dreams would be worth enduring if something useful was coming out of them. So far, that hasn't been the case."
"Hey, Deimos," said Arnold, looking up at the ceiling, "have you got any help for us?"
"I have not been programmed to perform that function, but I am allowed to provide encouragement."
"Okay," said MacPherson, "encourage us."
"What I am allowed to say is this next stage of the translations is within your power to perform."
"You can't just tell us?"
"That would be a violation of Amalgamation rules for citizenship. You must solve these puzzles on your own."
"Didn't hurt to ask," said Arnold.
"Well," said MacPherson, "if we're supposed to be able to translate these inscriptions, we must be missing something."
Chapter 52. Live Capture.
SPS Lenin, Mars Orbit, October 15, 2676.
Back in Lenin's cargo bay, Nuriyev and Bobrik rushed the floating transfer plate with the dead Custodian on it over to the cargo bay hatch and into the adjoining corridor. There, poised to secure the hatch cover immediately should the need arise, they stopped to observe the next steps in the attempt to revive the sleeping Custodian. Betula, who had been waiting for them in the corridor, was also observing.
It took several more seconds for the fog within the alien's hibernation chamber to completely dissipate. Inside the chamber, as the fog grew thinner, the Custodian began to move sluggishly. After about thirty seconds, the fog had been completely whisked downward, leaving the chamber clear. The creature used a claw on one of its upper arms to operate an internal control panel, previously unseen in the fog. The chamber door, hinged along one side, swung open and the obviously impaired alien took the short step down to the cargo deck and staggered a few steps away from the chamber.
"Fire net one!" shouted Kozloff into the com unit of his spacesuit. The marine designated as "net one" triggered his restraining net launcher at the Custodian from about five meters, the minimum distance required for the sticky net to fully deploy. In less than a second, the alien was enmeshed in a web made of material stronger and more flexible than steel. Once the web made contact, it was designed to automatically contract, greatly inhibiting any movement by whoever or whatever had been caught in it. Though the Custodian was still obviously impaired, the creature began to thrash against the restraint, showing alarming strength.
"Fire net two!" said Kozloff. A second net, deployed at a ninety-degree angle from the first, immediately arced across the bay to engulf the creature. "Secure those nets to the deck!" The two marine netmen worked the remote controls on their net launchers and the sections of the nets in contact with the deck immediately bonded tightly to it. The Custodian continued to struggle vainly for about fifteen seconds before it realized two of the nets were more than it could handle with brute strength alone. It switched tactics and attempted to use the formidable claws on its upper and middle legs to sever the threads of the net, discovering after a few failed attempts the material was also too tough to cut through with its claws.
Kozloff, with the Custodian translator in his hand, attempted to communicate with the thrashing beast. "Your struggles are useless. You will not be harmed if you cooperate."
The Custodian abruptly stopped straining against the netting but did not immediately reply. Having been instantly enmeshed in two extremely effective restraining nets before it had a chance to fully awaken, the creature was understandably disoriented. Now fully revived, it took a moment to calm down, assimilate the current circumstances and assess its options.
Finally it replied. A low, raspy voice came from the translator, "I am operative 100476, Reconnaissance Corps, Army of the Overlord Empire. No further information will be provided."
Given what was at stake, Kozloff decided honesty was absolutely not the best policy. That and some kind of leverage or incentive was going to be required to get the alien to reveal anything.
"Your five companions are all dead," said the captain. "Before they died, they provided us with most of the information we want. Because of this, your own death will be of little consequence. As I said before, you will not be harmed if you cooperate. The choice is yours, provide us with information or die."
The Custodian was silent for a few moments before responding. "I find your statement difficult to believe, my fellow soldiers would have chosen to take their own lives before revealing anything."
So the creatures could and would take their own lives if the situation warranted it. That, in itself, was valuable information.
"So you refuse to cooperate?"
"As you said, my cooperation is of little consequence. Besides, soon you will all be part of the glorious Overlord Empire. It is only a matter of time."
"Then you won't mind if we introduce you to one of the Hordea from the ship your forces tried to destroy?"
That seemed to give the creature pause. Had the mission failed somehow?
"I would welcome observing another of our subject species before I cease to exist."
"Betula? Come over and meet Custodian 100476. Or do you prefer to be called an Overlord?"
"'Ov
erlord' is a far better description," said the creature, somehow managing to sound haughty even through the translator. "'Custodian' is a word used by the weak and unenlightened."
Without realizing it, the alien agent had just provided the Humans with even more information. It had all but admitted the Custodians were bent on conquest! Kozloff realized in a flash if he could keep the creature talking, the beast might be arrogant enough to reveal a lot more.
Betula carefully glided out into the cargo bay and over to within a meter or so of the captive creature. With the Custodian wrapped tightly in two restraining nets, and the nets securely bonded to the deck, there was little likelihood of danger.
Picking up on the captain's deception immediately, Betula employed the same tactic. "Hordea have very poor eyesight," he said. "For me to effectively 'see' you, I will need to touch you with one of my sensory tendrils."
"If you truly wish to meet one of your future masters, I have no objection."
Without approaching any closer, the little Hordean extended and expanded one of his sensory tentacles before touching the Custodian on a spot exposed between the cables of the restraining net. After contact had been made, the two aliens remained motionless for a long moment before Betula withdrew his tentacle and glided backwards away from the creature.
"We may need to release 100476," said the Hordean, employing another deception. "There is little we can do to defeat these creatures."
"Perhaps we could release it in exchange for some kind of compensation or concession?" said Kozloff, hoping to provide an incentive for the Custodian to remain alive.
"That may be our best course of action," replied Betula, reinforcing the captain's suggestion.
"I'm glad you agree," said Kozloff, "but what do we do with it in the meantime?"
"We would not wish to be accused of maltreating it," said the Hordean. "That would almost certainly make any attempt at negotiations likely to fail."
"But we can't simply allow it to roam at will," said the captain. "We must find a way to keep it in custody without risking harm to it or to ourselves."
The Archeon Codex: Guardians of the Galactic Sentinel Book 2 Page 27
