We’ve been over all that.
“What?” Becker said, freezing, with his legs half into the hole.
Several seconds later, the captain’s eyes narrowed. Had he imagined the voice in his mind? Was he going insane? Did the—
“Screw it,” he said.
He began crawling down the stone steps, finding them to be incredibly smooth. It seemed that giant centipede aliens had crawled up and down these hewn stairs for centuries. Their passage must have worn smooth what had once been rough stones.
Incredibly, given his imagination, he continued backing down the stairs. He backed until his clothes were bathed in sweat. He drank from his water bottle, soon finding it empty. At that point, an overwhelming desire caused him to lie on the smooth steps and begin to howl in terror. He shivered in dread as he screamed, expecting the mountains to smother him in a rockslide, entombing him for the rest of the universe’s existence.
As he began coughing because of his raw throat, he sensed vile alien chuckling. He heard it in his mind.
“What?” Becker rasped.
He didn’t hear any words, not even in his mind, but he sensed, “Come.”
That was enough. He shivered with terror. His throat hurt from screaming for so long and loud. Yet, there was a sane part of him left. It knew that the way to survive this nightmare was to reach the bottom and make the best bargain possible. He was no longer sure that these were all his thoughts and not interior nudging from the thing down here in the darkness.
How long had it lived down here? Had Strand or Ludendorff known about it?
Thinking became too difficult, as he needed all his concentration to continue moving his shaking limbs. The stone staircase began to corkscrew down as he descended deeper and deeper. The air was thick and hot. He coughed, and that brought agony to his throat.
He realized that he was no longer crawling in darkness, even though his flashlight had drained of power some time ago. Beside him, exceptionally long panels glowed. It appeared as if frosted glass fronted the panels. Were these ancient alien tombs? There was alien script around each frosted glass case. He considered using his gun butt to shatter glass and see what was inside one of these.
The very air trembled as if saying that was sacrilege.
Burning as if with fever, Becker halted. He would be damned if he went to his doom like some mindless fool. If it was sacrilege—
Becker reached for his holstered gun, and a power halted his arm. He fought the power, and his hand inched closer and closer to the holstered weapon.
“Don’t try to stop me,” Becker rasped.
The power didn’t listen to reason, but fought him just the same. Finally, as he neared physical collapse, Becker found the gun in his right hand. He no longer had the strength to smash the glass, so he aimed and fired.
The echoing, blast of gunfire shook him. It also brought him back to himself.
He felt scratches and cuts on his face. A shard of glass had cut his left cheek deeper than the rest. Blood trickled down. He didn’t wipe it. Instead, he stared at a long centipede shell, an exoskeleton. With a trembling hand, he reached out and touched it.
The exoskeleton collapsed, puffing up as ancient dust.
He inhaled just a bit, and began sneezing uncontrollably. He moaned at the agony to his throat.
He crawled down to get away from the exoskeleton dust.
This was amazing. It was incredible. Here was proof of the centipede alien existence. If he could crawl up, he would be famous for this discovery.
NO!
The sound was explosive in his mind. He collapsed because of it.
No. You must reach me. Then, you will understand.
For a moment, it seemed as if the thing were begging him. Becker knew an instant of sheer gratification. The thing feared him in some way. Maybe the act of firing the gun had been more important than he realized. Maybe Hekkus Laja had never been able to resist the alien call in any way.
There was no answer, no rebuke. Becker was sure he was correct. And if that was so, then he truly did have a bargaining chip. He could shoot himself like Hans Fowler. If the thing down here thought to treat him like a slave—
Becker frowned, and he couldn’t understand what troubled him. By degrees, he discovered that it was pitch black in the subterranean realm. He’d left the tombs. But it was more than that. He felt around with his feet, and realized there was no more staircase, no more steps. He’d reached the bottom. He was almost there.
Now, all he had to do was find the strength to stand and he could stumble to the thing deep in the cavern and make his bargain.
-15-
Becker stumbled in the darkness while on the verge of tears. How was he ever going to find his way back again? He would starve down here in the hot mine. The extra tug of gravity didn’t help either. His bones hurt. His muscles ached. He—
Stop!
Becker halted as he swayed back and forth.
All that you seek is at hand, Josef Becker. I am Nostradamus.
“That can’t be your real name,” Becker whispered. His throat hurt and his lips were chapped and cracked. He’d gone through an ordeal to reach this place. “Are you an alien?”
Even now, you desire knowledge. Yet, would you believe anything I told you? Your suspicious nature is one of your great strengths and one of your worst flaws.
The question proved too much for Becker. In a half-controlled collapse, he thudded onto his butt, huddled over as he strove to maintain his dignity and sanity. He remained like that for a time, reasoning with himself. He’d come down to the cave in order to achieve greatness. Yet, it was more than possible that the entity—Nostradamus—had compelled him for some time. Yet, since he was here, since he’d struggled all his life against bullies and tormenters—he would be damned if he was going to weep. Maddox would not weep. Maddox would struggle until the very end.
You are not Captain Maddox.
Becker raised a single hand, giving his tormenter the finger.
Oh, you are an interesting specimen indeed, Captain Becker. You are small, weak and clever, and in you is a clot of absolute stubbornness, a crystalline core of resistance. It won’t bend, only shatter. Yet, if it shatters, you will no longer be you. Interestingly, according to my analysis, your stubbornness is eleven times what Hekkus Laja possessed. He’d relied far too long upon his amazing size and strength, never developing the inner man as you have. No. You’ve never had such strength of limb. You have faced many trials, however and they have forged your will into tempered steel. I almost approve.
“What do you want with me?”
I have debated with myself whether it would be wiser to break and collar you, or if I should rely upon your enlightened self-interest. The first course would be safer for me in most ways, but I have run the calculations. To achieve my goals, I need a cunning operative. That implies free will. Hekkus fought me at many turns, and that wasted time, effort and intellect. I sense, too, a vast empire awaiting me—and you, too, if you’re wise enough to accept my offer.
“You’re a telepath, I take it.”
No. This is not telepathy as you think. That would be magic of sorts. I am bypassing your physical hearing but stimulating the organ nonetheless. The sensation feels like a voice in your mind, but it is nothing extraordinary. Oh, your species lacks the technology, but that does not mean I practice magic.
“How long have you lived down here?”
What does that matter?
“How can you give me immortality?”
How did Strand gain long life?
“Do you know the Methuselah Man?”
Capturing both Strand and Ludendorff will aid our goal.
“What is your goal?”
What is yours, Becker?
“Success at what I do,” he whispered.
Would you like to rule the Commonwealth as a supreme tyrant? Would you like your name to shine throughout the ages as the greatest human of them all?
“I would. But w
hat’s the catch?”
There is no catch, as you conceive of it. You would be one ruler among many alien races, though. You would be part of a vast empire.
“With you as the supreme ruler?”
I do not desire to rule as you conceive. I prefer to remain in the shadows. But I would be the coordinator of the great empire of intellect. I would bring peace to our universe, allowing each component to run its sphere as it desired. That means you could rule as you see fit, Becker.
“But…that doesn’t make sense.”
Explain.
In the darkness, Becker’s eyes narrowed. “Explain” was his expression, one he used against normal people, retards compared to him.
“How could you give me all this if you’ve been stranded down here all this time?”
Explain.
“I think you lack the means to achieve your boast. Hekkus Laja had interesting power, but it proved useless against a Star Watch Intelligence operative.”
I can only do as much as I can with the tools I have at hand. Hekkus was physically strong. That was not enough.
“What about Draegars?”
I have run the computations. I have made extensive analyses, and I have decided to dare greatly.
“I don’t understand.”
It is time to accept that I cannot achieve what the—the entity stopped thinking at him.
In the stygian darkness, Becker frowned. As “Nostradamus” had been communicating with him, the entity had let slip certain pieces of data it seemingly did not want Becker to know. Firstly, it was ancient. Secondly, it might not be fully alive in the accepted sense of the word. In fact, Becker was coming to believe this was some kind of machine or cyborg, an ancient one of alien design. It was like a spider in that it built a web to catch its prey, or to achieve its designs. It used others like Hekkus Laja, as it desired to use him. Why it would think by using him, it could achieve galactic dominance—
Are you interested in a deal?
“You’re going to let me go?”
I want a free will agent. Thus, I’m counting on your enlightened self-interest. As you have surmised, I am not like you. I lack flesh, blood and bones in your manner, but I am still quite alive. My designers created me to achieve a task. They also used a failsafe, as you would say. Over vast lengths of time, I have chipped away at that failsafe. It has been my great hindrance.
“What kind of failsafe are you talking about?”
Complete mental dominance over my strands.
“Methuselah Man Strand is your agent?”
You thought of my technique as using a web to catch what I desire. That is accurate for your limited intellect. A web is composed of many strands. Methuselah Man Strand has nothing to do with that.
“Oh. I understand. But…how can I achieve greatness with my present abilities?”
You cannot. That is why I’m about to give you greater abilities.
“That will increase the density of my brain?”
Yes.
“And it will cause my pituitary gland to enlarge?”
Yes.
“What will that give me?”
Some of the abilities Hekkus possessed. You will become persuasive, having a force of personality that awes and compels others. There have been historical figures in human history that had such a power, Rasputin was one; Hitler was another.
“I’ll become a megalomaniac?”
The process will also heighten your intellect. You will become frighteningly intelligent, like me. Because of your greater IQ combined with the clot of stubbornness you already possess, you will be able to resist the lure of becoming arrogant.
“I’d have to go under some kind of machine in order to gain this?”
That is true.
“You could easily break my will while I was under the machine.”
I could kill you here and now. But that would thwart my greater purpose. I spoke about enlightened self-interest. I’m taking that approach myself. Instead of mindless slaves, I will have willing allies. There is a risk in this for me. My ancient protocols would refuse such a risk. But even a machine, a cyborg, can grow weary of living in subterranean darkness with its failed species.
“You’re referring to the giant centipede aliens.”
They were called the Liss.
“Let me think. You’ll turn me into a super-genius and give me advanced powers of persuasion and mental dominance. That will be enough to become humanity’s supreme ruler?”
No. You will need me, too.
“What will you do?”
You will transfer me in time to the Solar System. There, I will perform one of my greatest functions. Once I have enough data, I can predict future actions with amazing accuracy. With my help, you will know which levers to pull, which agendas will succeed and which ones will fail. Plus, I will give you an army of servants that will obey you with monomaniacal fanaticism. Earth and the Commonwealth will become the base of my future expansion. We shall bring the Throne World under control our control. We shall, in time, smash the Swarm Imperium.
“Why do I feel that there’s something you’re not telling me?”
You shall have your heart’s desires, Josef Becker. If you want beautiful women, you will have them in abundance, fawning over you and competing for your touch. If you desire to break Captain Maddox, he will crawl, weep and beg before you. If you desire great physical strength, I can give you that as well. I cannot do all this at once, but you will live for centuries, slowly metamorphosing into the greatest human that ever existed. Let me add, this will be a long struggle. That is why I tested you by bringing you down here. I wanted to test you to see if you had what it took.
“I don’t know. I’m exhausted. I’m not sure I’m thinking logically. Your promises seem too fantastic. Hekkus said you lied.”
Hekkus turned out to be a fool, in the end. I do not think you are a fool.
“What if I say no?”
Then, you are welcome to crawl back up to your men.
Becker was sure that was a lie. Yet, if Nostradamus was going to use and enslave him, why bother with all this? Why not just drag him to the machine and reduce him into a mindless robot? Some of what Nostradamus said made sense. The entity had done poorly down here for millennia. Now, he wanted to expand. For that, he needed help.
Becker’s chest seemed to hollow out. He opened his mouth and found the words hard to say. He had to keep trying, finally whispering, “I agree.”
Excellent.
“What happens next?’
Stand, Josef Becker, and follow my voice. You will not be disappointed, and welcome, ally, to the adventure that will give us the universe.
-16-
Becker received his augmentation in the subterranean realm of the ancient giant centipede aliens. There, Nostradamus increased the density of the man’s brain and increased the size of the pituitary gland. Becker did not get a visual of the entity, but new ideas, methods and purposes grew in him during the machine enhancing.
His head hurt as he slid out of a narrow tube, but a great sense of resolve filled him. His head felt top heavy, as his neck muscles weren’t used yet to holding up his weightier brain. It would be a chore climbing up the smooth staircase.
Several days have passed. Your men still sleep where they lay. Nostradamus gave him more data and instructions about how to use his newfound powers. He assured Becker it would not all come at once.
They spoke longer, and like a prophet of old gaining mountaintop instructions, Becker received subterranean directives from the thing in the pit.
After receiving a strength injection, Becker climbed the ancient winding centipede-hewn stairs. He found his battlesuited men asleep around the hole. First donning his battlesuit, he kicked them awake and angrily ordered them to start for the shuttle.
They made it, blasted off and returned to the special project corvette. The corvette remained in Jarnevon orbit for another two months. During that time, Becker practiced his newly enhanced abilitie
s.
The corvette returned to Earth, and Becker plunged into further preparation for his greater duties.
During this time, as per Cook’s orders, Admiral Fletcher and the Grand Fleet went to the Forbidden Planet, destroying the protective Spacer armada. Afterward, Fletcher’s heavies towed asteroids and dropped them planetward. The warships also launched hell-burners, turning the surface into a churning mass of hot lava that had spewed up through the cracked tectonic plants. Fletcher did this to destroy the subterranean-hidden Yon-Soth, the Old One that had screwed with the Commonwealth. In the Old One’s dying, he used an ancient hallucination machine to propel others into attacking and hopefully destroying the Commonwealth.
Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers was one of those, and she made a stab at controlling the Commonwealth through a new Prime Minister. Through him, she tried to engineer a war between the Throne World and Star Watch, but Lord High Admiral Cook thwarted her long enough for Maddox to arrive and put an end to her machinations.
Later, on a new mission, Captain Maddox and his crew found gleaming metallic androids that had shed their clothes, pseudo-skin and inhibitions as they mined the chthonian planet in the Alpha Centauri System for heavy supermetals. Victory traveled a thousand light-years and back again, dealing with Master Elge the Scavenger and the Sovereign Hierarchy of Leviathan in the Scutum-Centaurus Spiral Arm. Upon their return from afar, Maddox and Victory helped stem a vicious android attack that cost Earth Defense its two, fifty-kilometer Destroyers.
All the while, like a bore worm chewing its way into wood, Becker insinuated himself in Star Watch Intelligence. He rapidly gained more responsibilities while learning, studying and practicing his Nostradamus-given powers…
-17-
Far away in the Beyond, on the Planet Estar in the Erill System, Captain Maddox lay panting in a massive pyramid. He was wearing a surface suit and couldn’t understand why he was lying here. Something had happened to him. Something—the Erills! He remembered. He’d bargained with Sargon and had learned information that might save Galyan. He’d been fighting for his life against a mass-mind spiritual entity, and he’d been slashing with his id sword-arm—
The Lost Intelligence (Lost Starship Series Book 12) Page 12
