by Drew Wagar
Jim took another look at their muscle bound physiques and relented.
He was frogmarched down to the docking ring. At every intersection was a combination of GalNavy marines and Galcop enforcement officers. Jim was forced aboard a Viper patrol ship. From there the Viper rapidly departed the station. It was joined by four more Vipers which had been on patrol outside, which were in turn escorted by a full squadron of military spec Asps.
A full squadron? They’re acting like I’m public enemy number one, two and three!
Jim could just overhear the chatter on the narrowband comms.
“Flight formation delta wing.”
“Roger.”
“Full throttle, shields at full power, all weapons online.”
“Scanner reads clear.”
“Target secure, proceeding to way point.”
From his position at the rear of the Viper, he could see one of the pilots entering witchspace co-ordinates. He frowned, it looked like a mis-jump, the co-ordinates were for interstellar space…
On the view screen the witchspace tunnel opened up in front of them, accompanied by the familiar, and yet still sickening, sensation of dropping over a precipice. Jim didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling.
Fortunately it was quick, and the fleet emerged into the darkness of the void between stars, assuming their formation almost immediately and driving forward into the blackness.
Jim noticed the pilots looked nervous, checking and re-checking their instruments, particularly the long range scanners.
What in God’s name could possibly be a threat to this mini armada?
“Anomaly at quad five.”
“Checking… asteroid, all clear.”
“Target two locked in. All ships resume delta formation.”
“Roger, checked in.”
“Standby injectors.”
“Roger, sync’d and ready.”
“Engage.”
All the ships streaked forward into the darkness.
What the hell is going on here? Even if I had murdered Zerz, there would be no reason for all of this!
On the view screen there was something just becoming visible; a dark metallic object, roughly rectangular in appearance. Jim frowned. Whatever it was it wasn’t rotating and there was no way it could be a station out here in interstellar space. He could see from the scanner that it was still out of range. Whatever it was, it was big.
As they closed it rapidly grew larger, assuming the form of a massive vessel. Jim could see huge drive exhausts (big enough to swallow the average ship), windows and communication antennas, and most threateningly, the poised turrets of some plasma based weaponry.
It was a monstrous ship. A hulking mass of power, concentrated into a dark and forbidding visage. It dwarfed the smaller ships as they approached and swung around towards the rear. The ships rocked slightly as they crossed the bigger ship’s engine wake.
It has its own docking bay!
Jim had never seen anything like it, not even the Thargoids had something like this. A Galcop super vessel; a battleship, a dreadnought, no… a behemoth!
The Asps peeled off and assumed guard positions around the super vessel. The Vipers slowly filed into the hangar, and docked as if nothing were amiss. The rear hatch opened and Jim was ushered out into the docking bay.
Inside he was acutely conscious of the ranks of assembled GalNavy soldiers, marines and other armed personnel. There were hundreds of them, engaged in various activities; servicing ships, organising supplies and marshalling other staff. It looked like full scale war preparations.
Jim felt a gloved hand shove him forward toward the interior of the ship. Together they marched through dreary, austere, gun-metal grey corridors until they came upon a closed door. As the marines released him from his binders the door hissed open. They gestured for him to enter. He stood rubbing his wrists and glaring at them, making no effort to comply. They raised their rifles, repeating the gesture. Not wanting to test their resolve he turned and entered the room. The door hissed shut behind him.
Jim blinked. The inside of the room was not a cell, as he’d expected, but an ornate and extremely plush lounge, complete with subtle mood up-lighting, comfortable chairs, coffee tables, cushions, hanging rugs and the trappings of luxury all around. It looked like a plush hotel lobby. Huge plastinium windows provided a view out into the void.
“Good, I see you have arrived safely. All is in order.” A man was standing close to the windows, looking out at the distant stars.
The voice was familiar. Jim recognised him immediately, it was the President of the Galactic Co-operative.
“We meet again, Mr. Feynman,” the President smiled, turning around and crossing the distance between them in a few strides. He extended his hand.
Jim hadn’t heard his original surname for so long it seemed almost unnatural.
“I don’t understand,” he said stiffly, warily. The President lowered his hand when Jim did not take it.
“Relax, Jim,” the President continued. “I regret the manner in which you were brought here, but it was most necessary. It had to look convincing. We have something of a situation.”
“Why am I here? I didn’t murder Zerz.”
“I know. You are not under arrest. Relax.”
“Then why…?”
“I will elucidate. Allow me to explain.” The President indicated for Jim to sit opposite him on one of the comfy lounge chairs. “Sit. Help yourself to a drink.”
Jim poured himself a fruit extract and then sat back, regarding the President.
“What do you think of our latest ship?” The President said, gesturing around at the enormous room.
“Very impressive. Good to see my taxes are being well spent.”
“Our latest addition in the war against the Thargoids. Perhaps we will manage to gain the upper hand again.”
“Since you’ve referred to me as Mr. Feynman, I’m assuming that this has something to do with our previous meeting.”
“It does,” the President replied. “Tell me. What do you know of an organisation known as the Dark Wheel?”
Jim almost choked on his drink. “The Dark Wheel? They’re a bunch of crazy old men who think they’re mystical. You don’t really think they’re behind Zerz’ murder, do you?”
“It seems incredible, I agree,” the President smiled, “given their reputation. However, the image portrayed in public is not… entirely accurate.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Dark Wheel is not merely a troupe of old star-hands, past their prime and dreaming of distant worlds, Jim. The reality is that they are a centuries old order of distinguished servants, or perhaps ‘guards’ is a more appropriate title. Older than Galcop, older than the treaties. Their image of a band of dusty old wizards is deliberately cultured in order for them to hide behind it.”
“ ‘Guards’?” Jim said derisively.
“By their own admission they guard certain key secrets from the populace and the government. They operate beyond the law. I’ve only met them once, when I first became President. They left me in no doubt of both their capability and their intentions.”
“And yet we never see them anywhere.”
“That is the way they want it. However, they are extremely active. They have kept Galcop, the Federation and the Imperials from outright war on a number of occasions. They mediate technology exchange and development. They keep tabs on pirate activity and trim the edges of civilisation, restoring the balance whenever required. They may even keep some of the Thargoids at bay. I am certain they would have intervened in the Q-bomb affair had you not brought it to a satisfactory conclusion yourself.”
“Nonsense, I can’t believe…” Jim stopped at the look on the President’s face. It was plain that he was entirely serious. “So, they are our guardian angels. What does that have to do with Zerz?”
“The Dark Wheel is sworn to protect a number of things,” the President intoned. “They have a ‘code’
that every member is required to swear adherence to. They guard a number of things they would refer to as ‘relics’.”
“Sounds quasi-religious,” Jim commented dismissively. “What sort of things?”
“There are many: lost civilisations, pre-tech planets, fragile ecosystems, endangered species… ”
“Doesn’t sound all that important from a Galcop perspective.”
“There are others of more significance. One of those things is the location of ‘Raxxla’.”
Raxxla ?
Of all the things the President could have said, that was the last one Jim expected to hear. He sat back and frowned at the President. “All right. I’ve been a good sport. You’ll have to do better than that. What is this all about?”
“I am serious, Jim. This is really about Raxxla..”
“Raxxla?” Jim shook his head. “Raxxla is a myth; a fairy story. A bedtime fable for children who can’t get to sleep at night!”
“Raxxla is real,” the President spoke in measured tones. “Even Zerz was convinced of it.”
“And I suppose you’re going to tell me that all the silly stories are a fabrication put about by the Dark Wheel who are directing what they want us to believe?”
“The murders speak for themselves… ”
Jim was staggered. “You think the Dark Wheel murdered your Galcop staff because they knew something about Raxxla?”
The President smiled. “Let me fill you in on some other details. Galcop and The Dark Wheel go back a long way. A very long way indeed. Based on the historical evidence I have managed to uncover, Galcop tried to find Raxxla, in secret, many decades ago. The Dark Wheel intervened and stopped us. A reason was given, but deliberately not documented. What that reason was has never been explained, but it is written into the President’s terms of office that the agreement with the Dark Wheel must be honoured at any cost. Galcop has obeyed this restriction ever since, as have, quite remarkably, the Imperials and the Federation.”
“What is the nature of this agreement?”
“ We have a reciprocal and tacit arrangement with The Dark Wheel. We do not pursue the veracity, or otherwise, of Raxxla. They keep secret from all and sundry any information that they assemble from all sources. They send things of value our way, new technologies and so on. A balance is maintained. Whatever Raxxla does contain, it would seem that it is immensely powerful. The Dark Wheel appears to have good reasons for guarding the location of Raxxla. They protect it with their lives. The agreement has lasted for generations. It is one of the first things each new President is briefed on by the outgoing incumbent.”
“And now?”
The President sighed. “Doubtless you recall one of my staff, my erstwhile Military Chief of Staff.”
Oh yes, I remember him…
Jim nodded. “The man behind the Achenar plot, project Manhattan. The one who ordered that assassin to kill me.”
“Indeed. He was arrested and scheduled for execution for his part in that affair. He was awaiting trial, locked in our most secure and remote prison facility. Two weeks ago, he was reported missing.”
He escaped from a secure facility?
“Missing?”
“He was simply not in his cell when they went to retrieve him. No unauthorised access was detected, only the wreckage of a small transport ship was found. Two pilots were reported missing at the same time, apparently they had left on a conveyance mission, without a flight plan.”
Jim struggled to take this in, the Military Chief of Staff had been a dangerous, powerful man. He gulped down the last of his drink, placing the glass back down on the table. His hand shook as he did so.
“We’ve been unable to locate him,” the President continued, “which is one of the reasons I had you moved here.”
“One of the reasons?”
“These recent high profile murders… ”
Jim nodded. “Mahl Triboner and the rest… and Zerz.”
“Yes. What has become clear is how these different people were linked. You see, when we discovered that the Chief had gone missing we began checking all past and present access under his name, every stat, file and trace. A most thorough investigation.”
“And?”
“A single file was missing, checked out of the data core with no copies left behind.”
Jim breathed out. “Let me guess. Raxxla?”
The President nodded.
“You’re trying to tell me there is an official Galcop file on Raxxla and it’s gone missing? All those brain dead conspiracy theorists were right? What’s in it?”
“I haven’t seen it,” the President said, almost impatiently. “I was not privy to its contents. However, it appears that the Chief did. His secretary at the time, Janu Tinuviel, also had access, as did Tenim Neseva of Galcop security.”
“And Zerz?”
“Galcop’s chief technician had a direct report into the military. He saw it too.” The President got to his feet and walked behind the chair he’d been sitting in. He stopped to gaze out at the distant stars for a brief moment, before turning around. “They have all been killed. A unique code, arranged by us with the Dark Wheel long ago, was transmitted or left at each scene. A stamp of authenticity. They’re out there.”
Jim looked up at him.
“So the Dark Wheel has been killing anyone who knows anything about Raxxla, and you think… ”
“Your life could also be in danger, given your previous association with the chief and with Zerz.”
“But why? I know nothing about Raxxla! I don’t even believe it exists!”
“My analysis is that the Dark Wheel believes we have reneged on our agreement,” the President said. “Somehow they know that someone with access to Galcop security has recovered the file, so they are eliminating anyone who has knowledge of it. They believe we’ve changed our minds and are seeking Raxxla covertly. They are duty bound to prevent this.”
“And have you reneged?” Jim said, looking directly at the President.
“There’s the mystery. We haven’t,” the President said, returning the gaze. “Not officially, or even unofficially to my knowledge and that of Galcop security. There are only two people who know enough and could possibly be responsible for all of this.”
“The Chief of Staff… who else?” Jim asked.
“Somebody previously in his employ.”
Jim racked his brains for a moment, before gasping. “The assassin himself!”
“Precisely. We believe that the Chief has gone into hiding, which leaves either him or the assassin with the file. I believe either one or both of them is attempting to locate Raxxla, with the intention of using whatever power it contains for purposes unknown.”
“And the Dark Wheel thinks they are sanctioned by you, and is after Galcop as a result.”
“Precisely. The Chief was one of us after all, and he hired the assassin.” The President finished his drink. “Jim, I need to bring this under control.”
“And where do I fit in?”
The President sighed. “I will come to that. I can not have the Dark Wheel murdering Galcop people left, right and centre however pure the motive. This organisation cannot remain above the law. The political ramifications alone are incalculable. There have already been some minor uprisings and local riots. I must be seen to act. I will be forced to declare war on the Dark Wheel unless this conflict can be stopped in short order.”
“I don’t give a damn about the politics. What does this have to do with me? Why are you telling me this? I told you, I know nothing about Raxxla!” Jim snapped.
The President looked at him intently, and raised his eyebrows. “You’ve met this assassin, you’ve faced him down, you can recognise his ship.
“So? I’m no combateer! I can’t bring him down!”
“ I have a solution to that. You’ll be able to stop the Falchion.”
“Falchion ?” Jim snapped back. “What is a Falchion?”
“Originally? An ancient weapon, combining
the weight and power of an axe with the versatility of a sword. Today it is the code word for our assassin.”
“I’m just a university professor… ”
The President smiled, and handed Jim a folio. “Read this. This was sent to me shortly before… well you have read the news… ”
Jim took it.
“ … is probably the most brilliant technical mind of our generation. The modified injector technology that led to the development of the Q-Bomb itself is a masterpiece of design and intuition. I was able to duplicate the thinking, but to design it from first principles was a stroke of genius. Jim remains one of our key assets. It is vital he is kept out of sight until we’re in a position to manage the Raxxla affair effectively. ―Zerz Furvel.”
“You under estimate yourself, like most truly capable people do. You see, Jim, Galcop takes a long term view of events. You are not a university professor because that is all you are capable of. You were put there deliberately.”
“But… ”
“Beyond even this affair, things are afoot that may very well shake the fabric of society across the eight charts. Not even the future of Galcop is assured.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can not tell you right now, but Galcop’s future may well depend on finding Raxxla.” The President looked crestfallen.
“You’ve been manipulating me.”
“Encouraging you in particular directions would be the way I would phrase it,” the President returned with a wry grin. “But yes, and for longer than you probably suspect. If anyone can figure out the mystery of Raxxla it is you. I need our best mind on this.”
Jim felt that he should have been furious, but his emotions seemed oddly reluctant to engage.
“I don’t have to help you with this.”
“I certainly can’t force you. But we are talking Raxxla here, Jim. Now you know there is a real possibility that it exists, you won’t turn down the chance of finding out more about it. Galcop needs you.”
Jim sighed. “What can you tell me about Raxxla?”
“Precious little without the file,” the President admitted. “It would seem to be a secret of great power. The location is guarded by the Dark Wheel with singular intent. They would die defending its location, that alone indicates its value. The common threads do seem to indicate a planet, with some kind of immensely powerful portal…”
