Peacekeeper Pathogen (Galactic Alliance Book 6)

by Doug Farren

  “They didn’t,” the Voice of the Gods said as she entered the room. “The original structure was destroyed during the war of the gods.”

  The Voice of the Gods was a tall woman with sharp eyes and a wrinkled face. Her ears twitched and were constantly on the move as if they were radar scanning the area.

  “I am Anrithna, the Voice of the Gods,” she introduced herself. “From what Frenia has told me, I will soon be vacating this lonely post.”

  “We did not- - -” Tom began.

  “There are few of us remaining who believe the Star Gods will ever return,” Anrithna said, sitting down in a chair. “I began questioning it shortly after the cursed ones arrived and claimed to be the gods. Frenia claims you’ve taken a vow to protect us from them if they do return. Truth?”

  “Truth,” Tom replied. “We are a very powerful people, but we’re not omnipotent beings. Neither were the Gwon. We have no desire to rule over you. We’ll always be here to protect you and guide you as your culture develops. But you will always control your own destiny.”

  “I’ve been told that we would still be ignorant of your people had the cursed ones not arrived. Truth?”

  “Truth. Our policy is to allow a culture such as yours to develop without interference until they are able to travel to the stars on their own. Only then would we contact them. The Purists violated this rule.”

  “You may not be gods,” Anrithna said, reaching out and picking up a glass of water. “But you have the wisdom of a god. I will allow you to see what few relics we have of the ancient past. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

  “What can you tell us of the Star Gods? Where did they come from? Where did they go? What happened to them?” Flothir fired off each question in rapid-fire sequence.

  “I can tell you are eager to learn,” Anrithna replied. “Most of what I know comes from our most ancient stories. They were not written down until thousands of seasons after the Star Gods left. According to tradition, the Star Gods created us to be their servants. Our lives were theirs to do with as they pleased. They came here from the stars bringing us with them. They made this their home for many seasons until war broke out among the gods. Our creators were driven from this place. Many of us died during the short war. Death came by fire and lightning from the sky. After the gods left, most of our adults became ill with the death of a thousand howling pains. Only a few were untouched as well as most of the children. We believe it was the gods that did this. We’ve been living in fear of their return ever since.”

  “We’ve explored many stars,” Tom said. “To my knowledge, we’ve never found any evidence of your Star Gods. If they still exist, they’re a very long way from here. You have nothing to fear.”

  Anrithna looked around the room. “This place has been my home since I was a small girl. My family has been the Voice of the Gods ever since they left. I will be the last.”

  “Do you know why the Purists were forcing your people to register?” Flothir asked.

  “They claimed they were gathering information to better guide us to a glorious future,” Anrithna said, using a tone of voice indicating she was quoting something the Purists had often said. “They were very curious about those who had died the death of a thousand howling pains. When they learned about the dirt eaters, they became even more interested. Anyone who became afflicted with either of them was to be taken to the Purists.”

  “What happened to them afterward?” Tom asked.

  “We never saw them again,” Frenia replied. “But that’s not why we started our revolt.”

  “We learned the cursed ones were making plans to move their people here,” Anrithna continued. “After I learned of the existence of the Alliance, I gathered our people together to gain control of one of the cursed one’s powerful distance talkers. I had hoped that you could save us from the Purists.”

  “I’m the one who answered that call,” Tom said.

  Frenia turned and laid both her hands on either side of his face. “Then it is you we must thank for saving our people.”

  “No,” Tom replied, gently pulling her hands down. “I was in the right place at the right time. The Alliance would have come to your rescue no matter what. Your message sped things up—nothing more. What made you think we would remove the Purists from your world?”

  “I had spies in the service of the King of all Kings,” Anrithna replied. “One of them overheard the conversation the king had with someone from the Alliance.”

  “When can we see the artifacts?” Flothir asked.

  “It will be some time before they can be retrieved from where we hid them,” Anrithna said. “Four, perhaps five days at most.”

  Flothir’s face sank. “We might be gone by then!”

  “I’ll make sure you get back here to see them yourself,” Tom assured him.

  “I have a question for you,” Anrithna began, turning to Tom and looking him in the eye. “Why are you here?”

  Tom hesitated for just a moment as he tried to figure out how to answer the question. Seeing that she needed to add some additional clarity, Anrithna said, “Shortly after your arrival, you went up to the Mountain of the Gods. The cursed ones did the same. Now you’re here, asking to see our artifacts. The cursed ones did this as well. While I believe your motives are good, I’m wondering why you are repeating the actions of the cursed ones.”

  “We have reason to believe the Purists have obtained a deadly disease that originated here,” Tom explained. “If they manage to figure out how to make it worse, they’ll have a powerful weapon.”

  “The death of a thousand howling pains,” Anrithna concluded.

  “Yes,” Tom agreed. “The Purists have caused us a lot of trouble in the past and it looks like they’ve not changed their ways.”

  “Why not just eliminate them if they’re so much trouble?” Frenia asked.

  “That’s not how the Alliance does things,” Tom replied.

  “You are a very just people,” Anrithna said. “Is there anything else we can do to help you in your quest?”

  “Not unless you know where the Purists took the stuff they found in the Mountain of the Gods,” Flothir said.

  “Sadly, no,” Anrithna said.

  “In that case,” Tom said, grabbing another handful of cheese, “we will not take up any more of your time.”

  “Time is something I’m going to have plenty of,” Anrithna said with a smile. “I will let you know when the artifacts are returned.”

  “Thank you,” Flothir said.

  Both Flothir and Frenia were quiet during the ride back to the Orion. As they were approaching the ship, Orion sent Tom a private message, speaking to him through his cybernetic ears. “Captain Orflen has some results of their investigations into the facility on the Mountain of the Gods he would like to share with you as soon as you are able.”

  Instead of speaking aloud, Tom thought, “Acknowledged.” The sophisticated biolink built into the underside of his skull cap picked up on this strong thought.

  On the way up the ramp, Tom asked, “Are you two okay? You haven’t spoken a word since we left the Voice of the Gods.”

  Frenia stopped and looked at Tom. “After today, I no longer have a purpose. I’ve dedicated my entire life to preparing our people for the return of the Star Gods. Now …” She suddenly stopped speaking, turned around, and continued up the ramp.

  Flothir quickly followed. “How much do you know about the Star Gods?” he asked her.

  “As much as anyone can know.”

  “You could always open up a museum to show your people the artifacts,” Flothir suggested. “Put your knowledge to use.”

  “I always believed they would return,” Frenia said, sounding sad. “I believed they were the most powerful beings in the universe. Now, I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Can you find your way to the conference room?” Tom asked as they entered the ship.

  “Yes,” Flothir replied.

  Tom touched a
control and the ramp began to pull itself into the belly of the ship. “I have some important business to conduct,” he told them. “I’ll be there shortly.”

  The Orion lifted off as Tom settled into the command chair. “Get Captain Orflen on the line,” he ordered.

  A moment later, the captain’s face appeared. “You have something to report?” Tom asked.

  “Lashpa wants to talk to you,” Orion said, muting the microphone so the captain would not hear.

  “Link her in, but keep her presence private,” Tom directed.

  “I do,” the Captain replied. “My engineering people took a close look at the fusion generator that once powered the facility. Technologically, it’s about a decade behind our commercial fusion program. Based on a detailed metallurgical analysis, we can say that the reactor last operated anywhere between 3,500 and 4,000 years ago. It’s hard to say how long it was in operation before then because we have no idea what the normal power requirements were for the facility. One of my engineers was willing to guess that it ran for at least 30 years.”

  “So, if the Gwon are still around, they could be 4,000 years ahead of us?” Tom asked.

  “Theoretically, yes,” Captain Orflen replied.

  “That’s not good news. What else did you find?”

  “We found T11-N106 all over the place inside the facility. I’m glad I insisted on making everyone wear protective suits. Morale was already bad enough when we found evidence of the disease on the Churva.”

  “Any indication of what the Purists might have taken?”

  “No. But we’re certain they removed a lot of equipment.”

  “How much?” Tom asked.

  “They tried to cover their tracks by wiping the dust off the shelves,” the captain explained. “We found microscopic scratches on most of the shelves and workbenches. We can tell by the amount of oxidation, depth of the scratches, and other details that the Purists removed a large number of items, some of them quite heavy. The forensic anthropologists we have aboard tell me they believe the facility might have been abandoned with everything in place as if the occupants were expecting to return.”

  “Thank you for the update,” Tom said.

  “You’re welcome. What would you like for us to do now?”

  “Continue with your investigations,” Tom directed. “How many planetary survey drones do you carry?”

  “About twelve-hundred standard mapping drones.”

  “Deploy all of them. That facility on the Mountain of the Gods might not be the only one the Gwon left behind. If there’s another one, I want to know about it.”

  “The facility on the Mountain of the Gods would have gone unnoticed by a drone,” Captain Orflen pointed out. “It was very well hidden.”

  “Instruct your ship’s AI to look for flat areas large enough to handle a heavy cargo shuttle that are anywhere near where a facility could be hidden. Investigate each one closer.”

  “You realize this is going to take a long time.”

  “I do.”

  “I’ll give the order as soon as we’re done here. And what about you?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Tom admitted. “I’m tempted to make a trip to Safa and bully them into telling me where their facility is located but I know that won’t accomplish anything. If I think of anything else that requires your help, I’ll let you know. Wilks out.”

  Captain Orflen’s face faded away and was replaced by Lashpa’s.

  “That was a good idea to search for another Gwon facility,” she said, as soon as she saw that the captain was gone.

  “Thanks. How are the repairs coming along?”

  “Quite well. I’ll be taking off soon to conduct a pressure test. I’ll be back before you arrive. But that’s not why I called. I think I know how to locate the Purist research facility. I’ll tell you when you get back. Lashpa out.”

  Tom stared at the blank screen, his jaw half-open, an unspoken question now stuck in his throat.

  Chapter 18

  Tom couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he made his way to the conference room. He knew Lashpa had purposefully ended the conversation without giving him the chance to find out what her idea was. She knew it would drive him crazy during the entire return trip. She was right.

  “You’re in a particularly good mood,” Flothir said as Tom entered the room.

  “I am at that,” Tom replied, taking a seat. “What have you two been talking about?”

  “I was curious about Peacekeeper Lashpa,” Frenia replied. “She’s so different from everyone else and I was wondering why.”

  “What do you mean by different?”

  “You have two legs, I have two legs,” Frenia said, lifting a leg to emphasize her point. Waving her arms in the air, she said, “Two arms.” Pointing at Flothir and Tom, she said, “Two arms. Lashpa has four legs, two arms, and a tail. Even her face is different.”

  “Nature tends to follow specific patterns,” Tom explained. “My people come from a world that’s similar to Biomaster Flothir’s. Lashpa’s home planet is larger, has a much higher gravity and is also considerably warmer. She needs strong legs to hold her up.”

  “There are a few members of the Alliance that are even stranger,” Flothir said. “The Shiltan, for example, have eight legs, all of which can be used as arms.”

  “Eight! I would dearly love to meet such a person.”

  “Shiltans prefer to remain with their own kind,” Flothir replied. “I’ve never seen one myself.”

  “Do you all live together in peace or have there been wars between you?” Frenia asked.

  “We’ve had our differences,” Tom said, trying to deflect any additional questions concerning interstellar warfare. “But we’ve put them behind us and all members of the Alliance now live in peace.” Standing up, he continued, “We’ll be arriving soon. I’ll be in the command center if you need anything.”

  Moments after the Orion touched down, Tom exited the command center. His guests were just exiting the conference room. “If you don’t mind,” Flothir began, “I’d like to spend the night here.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Tom replied. Turning to Frenia, he said, “I can take you home if you like.”

  “I had already planned to spend the night here,” she replied. “I have a room in town.”

  Tom was relieved. He was anxious to see Lashpa and taking the time to take Frenia home would have delayed his seeing her.

  It was dark outside and the rain had ended. The temperature had dropped and a cold, clammy fog had moved in. The air was very still and filled with the sounds of thousands of nocturnal insects and other wildlife. Although the tricycle could have taken Frenia to the hotel without him, Tom thought it would be more appropriate if he drove her there himself. After dropping her off, he rushed back to the Krish. Flothir was walking down the Orion’s ramp as he pulled up.

  “Lashpa said I should accompany you,” he said.

  “Okay. Let’s go then,” Tom said, waving his arm towards the Krish’s ramp.

  Flothir had to practically run to keep up as Tom rushed up the ramp and into the conference room.

  At the top of the ramp, Tom was forced to slow down. A clear plastic enclosure now surrounded the upper entrance to Lashpa’s ship.

  “This is new,” he said aloud.

  “It’s a decontamination chamber,” Krish explained, speaking through the ship’s speakers so Flothir could hear. “The interior has been decontaminated. The chamber will ensure it stays that way.”

  Tom stepped on a pad of sticky material then entered the enclosure and closed the door. Blasts of air from tiny jets machined into the sides of the enclosure quickly rippled down from the top to the bottom while a powerful air current pulled everything towards a vent under Tom’s feet. After fifteen seconds, the air grew still and the exit door automatically unlatched.

  Instead of leaving him behind, Tom waited for Flothir to clear the decontamination chamber then led the way to the conference room.

 
; “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Lashpa asked, holding one up. “Or perhaps something to eat?”

  “Come on!” Tom complained, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know I rushed back here so you could tell me how we can find the Purist facility. Talk to me.”

  “I also enjoy seeing how impatient you can become when you think you’re missing out on the action,” Lashpa said. “I’m hoping to teach you some patience.”

  “Patience be damned!” Tom said, picking up the mug Lashpa had set on the table in front of him. “Talk to me or I’m going to use your kitchen to cook up a nice steak.”

  Lashpa wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue. “I would rather you did not. It would take a week to clear the smell out of my ship.”

  Flothir watched this exchange with interest. “I would like a cup of coffee,” he said, the moment he had a chance.

  Lashpa slowly poured him a cup. “I see you at least have patience.”

  “I …” Flothir paused when he saw the smile on Tom’s face. “You two were just joking around with each other, weren’t you?”

  “Of course!” Tom said, putting his hand on the back of Lashpa’s neck.

  Flothir relaxed. “Good! I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of a fight between two cybernetically enhanced people.”

  Turning to Lashpa, Tom said, “So tell us what you’ve come up with.”

  “Let me begin with a question,” she said. “Let’s say the Purists have figured out how to activate T11-N106. What then would they need most?”

  Tom dropped his chin and thought for a moment. A second later, his head snapped up and he said, “A source of the pathogen. They need a dirt-eater!”

  “Not just one,” Lashpa said. “As far as we know, T11-N106 remains dormant and does not reproduce inside a host unless it’s been triggered to do so. To create enough of the pathogen to pose a significant threat, the Purists would need a large supply. Since it’s known that dirt-eaters do not live for more than a few months, the Purists would need a large number of them.”

  “If they had the ability to trigger the pathogen to begin reproducing,” Tom added, “they could be manufacturing as much as they wanted right now.”