Treasure of the Silver Star

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Treasure of the Silver Star Page 14

by Michael Angel


  “It’s not the amount that worries me,” Sebastiàn pointed out. “It’s what they want to sample.”

  Tally returned to the ship to retrieve her own backpack. Drake noted with wry amusement that of course, the woman’s pack had to be its own shade of neon orange. So was her belt, which held both a blaster and a sheathed knife. But he didn’t say anything as she rejoined the group on the shore.

  “All right,” Tally enthused, “I’ve got provisions for ten days, assorted climate gear, all-weather tents and climbing equipment.”

  “That sounds good,” Drake replied, “And we’ve brought along explosive charges to take out the Sargasso engine, if we find it. And enough miniature machine tools to keep Ferra happy.”

  “Hey, would you want to get to our destination, only to find out that you’re missing the right size socket wrench to pry open the door?” Ferra quipped, as she shouldered her pack.

  Tally dug out a hand-held tracking unit. The device put out a reassuring series of blips, and then displayed a green arrow showing the way to their ultimate destination. Their path went parallel to the small stream which descended from the lip of the hills off to the left. Kincaid let out a groan when he saw the steepness of the slope ahead.

  “When you asked me to come along, I didn’t know it was because you were expecting muscle strains,” grumbled Kincaid.

  “Come on,” said Drake, as he pulled his pack on. “You want to live forever?”

  Kincaid thought about that for a moment. “No. Too depressing.”

  * * *

  The comm in Ruger’s conference room aboard the Implacable let out a chime. Captains Sindal and Mackall perked up, but only their Commander touched the reply button.

  “Coded transmission coming in, sir,” said Ruger’s communications officer. “It’s from the Security Council. Data only, no voice transmission.”

  “That’s fine. Pipe it through to the console here.”

  Ruger pulled up the list he had been sent. He cross-checked it against the explored planets in the Colonization Corps Archive. His two ship captains watched on impassively, hoping that their commander’s hunch was correct.

  “Here we are,” Ruger beamed, as he erased the unwanted systems from the display. “According to the Council, Project Sargasso was set up on an unpopulated planet, purposely isolated from the Colonization Corps. They wouldn’t want colonists stumbling across a military secret of this magnitude, would they?”

  His captains nodded in agreement.

  “We can also rule out all the planets where archeological funding was allowed to continue. If our ‘Black Ops’ took over the site, I doubt that they would publically allocate funds for that kind of work.” He frowned at the result. “That leaves us with a list of forty-five systems.”

  “There had to be a terrestrial climate,” Sindal pointed out. “The reports I’ve read said that they had to hide the site from the Colonization Corps because the setting was suitable for human settlement.”

  Ruger nodded. He’d been thinking along those lines himself. It was obvious that Drake was not simply fleeing in a random direction. And if he knew the potential of that engine, he might decide to use it for himself.

  Perhaps, but not for certain. Drake was an ethical man. Despite Ruger’s cultivation of his officers’ baser natures, he knew that most of the Terran military had a crystalline sense of duty. If there was anyone providing the driving force behind Drake’s expedition, it was going to be the treasure hunter. She was probably the one who was figuring out where the engine was hidden right at this moment. He had to get back into the game, and fast.

  “If we filter out all of the planets that don’t have terrestrial climates, that leaves us with no more than a half-dozen systems to check,” Ruger announced. “Let’s divide up our search pattern. But from now on, if you spot the Ranger, you are not to engage her. That honor will be mine alone.”

  * * *

  Tally led the party over a successive sequence of ridges and hills. Their path twisted and turned, generally following the side of a small stream, though her tracker continued to point the way to their final destination. Had the surface been more level, they would have covered a good deal of ground. Luckily, Tally was in shape, and the members of the Terran Home Guard had kept up the physical fitness requirements demanded by their service. Their progress was slow but steady.

  In the valleys between the ridges grew thick groves of the same strange, gray-barked trees. Their branches were festooned with variations of the free hanging mosses, and in some cases they grew into wet walls of dark green vegetation. In the low lying areas, the ground grew wet and spongy, providing little support for the plants. Along one section, the trees tilted towards one another like sabers at a military reception, their primitive root system barely enough to keep purchase in the wet, sandy soil.

  As the day wore on, the undergrowth grew denser and the mosses more tangled. Clouds of warm mist began to drift over them, leaving a film of dripping moisture. The temperature rose and they took a small break, removing their outer layer of clothing. Yet although the air remained almost completely still at the ground level, everyone could see the clouds above being torn and shredded by the presence of violent high-altitude winds. Those same winds set up a distant keening sound, and it put everyone on edge.

  They took breaks for meals and rest whenever they found a break in the tree cover. The strange silvery light cast by Naq Al Sharif gave everything a somber look, but it beat the deep shade of the forest. Tally shared out several packets of dehydrated meat. Considering what it was, Drake found it surprisingly tasty. Tally could afford the quality stuff, and it showed. The group’s conversation, though pleasant, sounded forced. It was enough for them to say anything, so long as it broke the oppressive silence of the alien planet.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Night fell over the forest like a black sheet. Planet Sargasso didn’t have any moons, so the sky was filled by the entire panorama of stars overhead. Drake saw with some amusement that by unspoken agreement, he and Tally were to get one of the two person tents. Of course, it could have simply been in deference to Tally’s leadership and Drake’s rank, but he didn’t think so.

  Tally didn’t comment on the arrangement as she set out her sleeping mat on the floor of the tent. He crawled inside, abruptly aware of her close presence, and sat down on his mat. He let out a groan as he pulled off his shoes. A red pair of blisters had blossomed on his heel. Drake dug into his portable medkit and remedied them with a spray of medicine.

  “I should have seen that coming,” Tally remarked. “None of you really have what I’d call hiking boots. We’re just lucky that the ground cover here is so soft.”

  “Soft, yes, but it’s still steep and rocky where it counts,” he said, as he laid back with a sigh.

  “That sigh actually sounded halfway contented, Benjamin Drake.”

  He laughed softly. “Maybe it was. I feel different now. Felt different before, back on the ship. When we were taking on Ruger and his people. More...”

  “Alive?”

  “Yes,” he said, after a moment. “More active. Vital.”

  “When it comes right down to it, you’re a hell of a tactician. Having someone as good as Sebastiàn doesn’t hurt, either,” she pointed out. “That’s the secret, isn’t it? All of your crew is good at what they’re meant to do. That’s why everyone’s underestimated you.”

  “I suppose you’re right. That is, if running from the law is what we’re meant to do.”

  She cocked her head at him. “Well, have you given thought to what you’re going to do after this is all over?”

  “After it’s over?” He shook his head. “No it’s been too rough-and-tumble for me to think about that. It’s strange. We’ve only been out of Terran space for three days, but it feels like an eternity.”

  “Benjamin,” she said shyly, “would you consider working for me?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe. I mean, yes. I’d consider it.” />
  “But you don’t know for sure that you’d say ‘yes’?”

  Drake looked at her. “Has it occurred to you that you’re still a fugitive too? Why think about planning a future?”

  “I’ve been on the wrong side of the law before,” she said offhandedly. “In the past, I stole things. In fact, I’ll tell you something about me that never made it into those holo-shows: that I actually stole the very metal detector that made me rich.”

  She stopped for a moment. His eyes remained on her, but his look wasn’t judgmental.

  “I know you must disapprove,” she admitted. “You don’t have to be a saint to disapprove of what I’ve done. But there comes a point at which you get very tired.”

  “Of being poor?”

  “Of being alone.”

  She looked at Drake, her eyes and her body language saying what she could not. He responded, taking her in his arms and nuzzling her crown of hair. She brought her lips to his in a soft, warm kiss.

  “Tally,” Drake said, his voice husky with desire, “Are you sure you want to—”

  He could see the dim flash of her teeth as she smiled. “Oh, yes.”

  She reached down, touched him where his blood ran stiff. Where she could feel the tautness of his member. She let him remove the last layer of her daywear. He caressed her breasts with a gentle hand, bringing his tongue down to her nipple. She made a small gasp, but held his head there.

  Tally greedily ran her hands along Drake’s flanks, feeling the hard muscle beneath the softness of the skin. She pulled him on top of her, feeling his heavy weight upon her, the way she enjoyed having a man. Breath whistled between clenched teeth as he entered her, as gently as he could. They kissed, and their tongues slipped past each other, sharing their breaths they moved together in the oldest dance devised by nature.

  Overhead, the stars turned in their heavenly circle. Had there been anyone to watch, they would have seen one of the points move slowly, imperceptibly, in the wrong direction of the great celestial wheel.

  “We wouldn’t have seen it if we hadn’t gotten the active scanner working,” reported Sindal’s navtech. “It’s an artificial satellite, bearing two seven zero. It’s got a primitive cloaking signature.”

  “Is it functional?”

  “We’re sending out a signal now.” There was a pause for a few seconds, and the crew was rewarded with a soft beep. “It’s transmitting back.”

  The viewscreen, which had been focused on a small, tumbling block of metal hidden in the planet’s shadow, shifted to a communications grid. The signal was fuzzy and weak, but the Vigilant’s translators were able to break the code.

  “YOU HAVE ACTIVATED BACKUP TERMINAL ALPHA, PROJECT SARGASSO. ENTER PASSWORD TO RECEIVE FILES,” read the message.

  “Cut the channel,” Sindal ordered. “Notify Fleet Commander Ruger immediately. This is the place.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A steady draft of air came from the black void below. To the north, a series of fingerlike peaks jutted into the sky, and the speed of the clouds scudding by was ample demonstration of the wind’s velocity above the canyon walls. But it was the movement of air from below which caught the group’s attention. The air felt cool and dry, as if it came from a well-ventilated cellar.

  Tally knelt by the blackness of the shaft. Tiny bits of black glass dotted the mossy covering, and they crunched like dry twigs when she stepped on them. Cautiously, she felt the lip of the hole. It had been lined with a ring of metal. When she scratched off the covering of dead moss, she saw it was the same whitish metal that they had seen on the asteroid.

  “Anyone have their flashlight handy?” she asked. Drake pulled his out and gave it to her.

  She shone the light down into the blackness for a moment. Then she sat back on her heels, took off her pack, and looked up at the rest of the group.

  “What do you think?” This from Drake.

  “Looks like we won’t need the climbing equipment,” she said, as she pulled a coil of heavy rope out of her pack and tossed it to the ground. “Someone’s already welded a standard-issue ship ladder to the side of the wall here.”

  “Well, at least that proves that humans were here, explored this area before us.”

  “That’s correct. Let’s get our helmets on.”

  “I thought you said that we wouldn’t be needing the climbing equipment,” Sebastiàn said.

  “You can still go bump in the dark, Lieutenant. These helmets have built-in lights. Helps to keep our hands free for other things.”

  The group didn’t argue with her. After a few moments rummaging in their packs, the five went down the ladder single file, again with Tally in the lead. As they passed into the darkness of the shaft, their helmet lights winked on, illuminating the dust-covered metal rails of the ladder. Tally counted off four dozen rungs before she spotted the bottom.

  Like everything else on Planet Sargasso, it was covered with a soft brown layer of dead moss. But what she could see underneath looked metallic. The soles of her boots made a soft ‘thud’ as she stepped onto the bottom of the shaft.

  She looked around, feeling a little disappointed. The chamber was circular and completely bare. Three passages led out from the room, each circular in shape and made of tubes of the alien metal.

  “So far, it looks like the inside of a freight hold,” she remarked. While the others finished making their way down, she set a floor lamp by the ladder’s base. Then she began going over the walls and the flooring with her scanner.

  “This passage has a sharp bend in it,” Ferra called, as her helmet lights illuminated the left hand corridor. “Bends to the right, I’d say fifteen degrees.”

  Kincaid craned his neck to look down the opposite passage. “This one bends a similar amount to the left.”

  “You know,” Tally said, “I’m betting that the remaining hallway should run straight as a bore hole.”

  “You’re right,” Drake confirmed, as he took a look for himself. “What are you thinking?”

  “The outermost pattern of these ‘holes’ was roughly circular. My guess is that these two outer passages are curved like the rim of a wheel, and the center passage runs like a spoke through the center of it.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “It’s just a guess, but I think that the glass covers over these shafts served to let the light in at certain angles,” continued Tally, as she picked up one of the shards. Inscribed on it was a stylized representation of a star. Objectively, she knew there was no hard proof that what she held in her hands had, in fact, been made by aliens. But there was something in the design that told her it did not spring from a human mind.

  “It might have been to help in astronomical observation,” Sebastiàn ventured.

  “Or to pin-point stellar locations for using the Sargasso engine,” Drake said, catching on.

  “Seems kind of primitive to me, sir.” Sebastiàn observed. “I mean, if you have the technology to change space and time, why take the trouble to build all of this?”

  “Why not?” Ferra responded. “Could be they did it for aesthetics. Or maybe it was a backup system. One of the engineers I worked with had an abacus mounted above her console. The instructions on the case read: In case of power outage, break glass.”

  Tally carefully wrapped the shard in a piece of cloth, tucked it in her pack, and led the way down the straight tunnel. As she had predicted, the passage plunged ahead as straight as a bore hole. The walls remained smooth, with no pits or indentations until they came to a lump of corroded metal bolted to the side of one wall.

  “Junction box,” Drake observed. “It’s the kind that was used before our time. Probably during the last Interstellar War.”

  “Let me take a look.” Ferra moved over to the piece of equipment. Deftly, she pulled a servo wrench from a tool belt, undid the outer plate, and pulled out the network of delicate wires. She reconnected a few of the cords in the tangle, and then reached into her belt, popping in a new relay circuit
. A low hum, and the tunnel around them lit up with the warm glow of everyday lamps.

  “Not bad,” Tally said approvingly.

  “Nothing to it. The safety shunt was blown, and I think I see why,” She pointed to a black scorch mark down the wall. “Blast gun fire. One hit on a junction box and the system would have overloaded, shutting it down.”

  They continued down the now lit passageway. The floor began to angle upwards, while the tunnel itself grew wider and wider. The signs of violence increased, and soon the wall was regularly pockmarked with black scorches.

  “I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel,” Kincaid observed.

  “Dang, are you sure that you’re the real Kincaid?” Ferra joked.

  Kincaid readied a reply, but at that moment the group stepped out into a vast, oval-shaped room. Afternoon sunshine from Naq Al Sharif streamed in through a large, circular skylight. The dim silvery light illuminated a vast room with a gently sloping conical roof. The smoked glass that made up the skylight was covered in the same complex alien designs.

  One side of the room glowed a dazzling shade of ivory. The glow came from a dozen meter-sized square plates of the strange white metal set on a knee-high raised platform. At the other end of the room, an entire network of abandoned transport trailers surrounded the platform. All around the makeshift complex, doors hung askew and windows lay shattered from blast gun fire.

  Tally let out a gasp of excitement.

  Sitting between the two areas, in the exact center of the chamber, lay the sleek hump of the space temporal engine. More than anything else they had seen, it looked so obviously alien that it jumped out and caught their attention. They wandered over towards it, each with expressions ranging from curiosity to wonder.

  “It looks as though it’s been grown rather than built,” Ferra breathed. “I can only guess how long it took for them to figure out how to interface with its innards.”

 

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