The Last Star Warden - Tales of Adventure and Mystery from Frontier Space - Volume 1

by Jason McCuiston

  The Warden pulled himself to his feet and limped to the copilot seat at the controls. He stared through the forward screen, scanned the readouts on the nav computer. “We’re on a smaller asteroid in the belt, several thousand kilometers from the main colony. You obviously brought me out here for a reason. What’s your plan?”

  Maria sat down beside him and shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. I hoped you’d have one.”

  The Warden thought about Ryan’s evidence, the data he had given his life to protect from whatever conspiracy was at the heart of this mystery. “What do you know about The Old Number One Mine?”

  Maria’s brow wrinkled. “It’s been closed down for over a decade. Mined out. It was the first shaft we dug when we got here… Now that I think on it, as far back as I can remember, even when I was a kid, it was always under heavy guard. Only crews hand-picked by my dad ever worked it, and most of the actual mining was done by bots… Why do you ask?”

  “I believe we might find some answers in there. Is there any way you can get us in?”

  Maria smiled. “Maybe. But it won’t be easy.”

  The Warden grudgingly returned the smile. For the first time since arriving on Cibola Seven, he didn’t feel a nagging sense of irritation bordering on violent rage.

  “Nothing worth doing is ever easy.”

  ---

  The Old Number One Mine occupied the lowest level of the colony. In just over two decades, a hole in the asteroid’s surface had been buried beneath sixteen layers of residential communities, business districts, and entertainment and commerce zones, as well as industrial sectors for refineries, storehouses, shipyards, and manufacturing plants. And though there were other mining operations on the primary asteroid, the original shaft now sat at the heart of a security complex the Warden thought would have put some military facilities to shame.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.” The Warden rubbed the bruise on his chin as Maria guided the shuttle down the deep well that would lead them to the Old Number One.

  “Don’t worry.” She cast him a nervous smile. “Even if I didn’t know my dad’s passwords, I could still slide the security systems. He’s one of the best miners in the Frontier, but he never was too savvy on computers or technology.”

  The Warden returned the smile. “Well, that makes two of us.”

  An alarm on the control panel alerted them to a weapons lock.

  Maria tapped a sequence of code and the alarm ended. An automated voice came over the coms: “Shuttle Twelve, you are cleared for landing on Pad Nine.”

  “What are we going to do when we’re met by a squad of security bots?”

  Maria shook her head and typed more code. “We won’t be. I’m telling them to stand down now.”

  “Let’s just hope they don’t have any bored rent-a-cops on duty.”

  She frowned. “Are you always this negative?”

  The Warden chuckled. “It’s a recent development.”

  They were not met by a security detail of any sort.

  “This way.” Maria led him off the landing pad and across a short, graveled yard to a sealed concrete bunker.

  The Warden noted the array of security cameras documenting their every move. “What about those?”

  Maria ignored him and entered a code on the blast door’s keypad. She knelt and placed her face near the retina scanner. A few moments later the display turned green and the heavy doors slid open. “We’re in.”

  They hurried down a short, low corridor to a service lift. Boarding it, Maria pressed the button for the lowest level. A moment later they zipped toward the heart of the mine, the asteroid, and Cibola Seven.

  The Warden suddenly felt naked without his Comets. “We should have brought weapons.”

  Maria glanced at him and held up her chrono. “I can disable any bots we come across. And do you really want to shoot anybody? Considering I know you were armed when the connies took you into custody and you didn’t draw your weapons, I’m guessing not.”

  The Warden grunted. “I never want to shoot anybody. But when they shoot at me, it’s usually the only option left.”

  Maria grunted back.

  The doors opened onto a pitch-black corridor filled with a strange scent, both chemical and earthy. The Warden had to tap his visor twice to get it to switch to low-light vision. “Those constables did a number on my electronics. Wish something could fix them as quickly as the nanites did my skull.”

  “Quiet.” Maria shushed him. She slid on a pair of goggles to augment her own vision. Crouching, she led him out of the elevator with a whisper. “I think I hear someone down here.”

  They crept along the earthen tunnel for several meters before coming to a bend that twisted and descended to the left. They could clearly hear a single male voice echoing faintly from below. The Warden stepped past Maria and quietly led her into an opening that was the terminus of six narrow tunnels descending deeper into the asteroid. They made their way to the mouth of the tunnel from which the voice emanated.

  Maria touched her chrono to the Warden’s, then typed a quick message. It displayed on his: That is my father.

  He nodded and they moved into the tunnel. It twisted and continued to descend until coming to another opening. This one was the T-junction with another shaft. At the center of this intersection stood a small, GlasSteel prefab office or administration building. The Warden recognized Augustus Sandoval sitting in the booth, hands resting on his knees as he stared into space while speaking to someone.

  The Warden typed onto his chrono: Does he have retinal or subdural communication implants?

  Maria read the message and shook her head.

  The Warden looked again, trying to see if the mining magnate was using some kind of technical device for communication. The man obviously wasn’t using his wrist chrono, and there were no discernible mechanisms in the booth, only outdated monitors and keyboards and a dusty locker marked TORCHES & DIGGERS.

  After a moment, Sandoval blinked and looked in their direction. Jumping to his feet, he spoke into his chrono. The entire darkened complex erupted in red flashing light and blaring sirens.

  Before the Warden and Maria had time to turn and run, a swarm of armed security bots surrounded them. Maria tried to use her codes, but to no avail.

  As the sirens quieted and the red strobes were replaced with the subdued white glow of auxiliary lighting, the Warden and Maria were escorted to face Augustus Sandoval.

  “What is going on here, Dad?” Maria said. “Why are you down here alone, and who were you talking to?”

  The elder Sandoval blinked as if trying to recognize her. “I don’t know who you two are, but I’ve far more business down here than either of you.”

  Maria’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. “Dad…?”

  “Look here, Sandoval,” the Warden said. “You are up to something and I want to know what it is. Where is my friend Quantum? What have you people done with him?”

  Augustus looked at him for the first time with recognition and smiled. “Why, Warden, I’m so glad you came to visit our operation. It is my greatest pleasure to show it to you. I think you’ll be quite impressed with what we have going on here. It has made a ragtag bunch of Undocs the wealthy envy of the entire galaxy in less than half a lifetime.”

  “Dad! What are you talking about?”

  Augustus Sandoval blinked at his daughter again, frowning as if he’d forgotten something very important. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m talking about the greatest discovery any mortal being in this universe has ever made. In the heart of this asteroid, at the bottom of this mine, two decades ago, we found God.

  “And now you get to meet Him.”

  Sandoval led them deeper into the mine. The Warden and Maria were not bound, but instead were surrounded by a dozen armored security bots.

  The lighting grew dim as they descended into the oldest parts of the shaft. The smell of earth and chemicals gradually faded into the stench of unclean bodies
and warm electronics. A strange, almost hypnotic hum filled the thin air, echoing off the close rock walls.

  Rounding a corner, they found the source of these sensations, or at least a part of it. A thin, middle-aged woman stood strapped to the rugged wall by a strange metallic harness. Though she appeared to be in no pain, she stared slack jawed and blank-eyed from the illuminated apparatus enclosing her head.

  Maria gasped, but the Warden’s eyes followed the cables running from the harness farther down the corridor. It was connected to another trapped, catatonic individual, this one a slender young man. They passed three more such captives before they came to Quantum.

  “Tarnation!” The Warden stepped to his friend, grasped the Mechtechan’s narrow shoulders and stared into his blank black eyes. “Quantum! Speak to me! Are you all right?”

  Sandoval frowned. “He cannot hear you, Warden. He is in communion with God at the moment, free from all worldly concerns, including you. But do not fret, you will be joining him in this sacred bond very shortly.”

  The Warden shook with rage. “If you’ve hurt him, so help me, I’ll kill you all and burn this Sodom to the ground around your blasted corpses.”

  Sandoval smiled, shook his head, and continued down the tunnel.

  Two of the bots grasped the Warden by the shoulders and pushed him forward.

  The Warden looked back at Quantum, then turned to stare at the back of Sandoval’s head. The irrational rage he’d felt since his arrival on the asteroid was very near the surface now, threatening to escape his control. He knew he could reach out and snap the man’s neck before the bots could get off a shot.

  It took every iota of his willpower not to do it.

  Sandoval was oblivious to all this as he led them into a larger chamber filled with a pale green glow. The circular room’s walls were lined with more people wired in “communion.” Maria recognized someone on the far side of the room.

  With a cry of, “Marcus!”, she ran to the inert man, tried to embrace him, and fell weeping at his feet.

  The Warden felt for her, but his attention was arrested by the terminus of the macabre network. The center of the room was occupied by a large mechanical throne of dull black metal.

  Upon the chair sat the source of the pale green glow, the God of Cibola.

  The tall, gaunt Tuatha was a creature of living plasma, its body merely a construct of energized atoms drawn from the surrounding atmosphere to sheathe the ever-living consciousness of one of the oldest beings in the galaxy. Possibly even the universe. In fact, according to common belief, it should not exist at all. This was probably the last of its kind.

  Sandoval bowed formally, though the seated Tuatha showed no indication that it was aware of their arrival. Turning to the Warden, the mining magnate said, “Behold the face of God, Warden. Are you not humbled? Should you not kneel before your Creator?”

  The Warden glanced at the man. “You idiot. That’s not God. That’s a Tuatha, one of the original inhabitants of the Frontier. What the hell have you lot done to it?”

  Ignoring Sandoval’s incensed sputtering, the Warden stepped forward and made a gesture he had learned a long time ago. Years before the Star Wardens had fallen in the Continuum War against the Mechtechan, they had fought the Tuatha and eventually forged a peace with the ancient race. They had reached an accord, dividing Frontier Space between the powerful aliens and the burgeoning United Planetary Council.

  Since his return to the timeline, however, the Warden had learned that the U.P.C. had broken the peace. Trusting in the might of their vaunted Star Cav, the United Planets had invaded the ceded systems, starting a new Tuatha War. A war that had ultimately ended with the Tuatha choosing their own extinction rather than fighting a war that could only end in mass genocide on a galactic level.

  The Warden’s gesture of greeting seemed to catch the enthroned and catatonic Tuatha’s attention. Its glowing, featureless head turned in his direction. A moment later, its consciousness entered his mind. The sensation took his breath, drove him to his knees. In an instant he knew all that had transpired to lead them to this point in time…

  The Warden saw the Tuatha’s scientific research vessel enter the Praxis Gargantua hundreds of years ago. He saw it struck by asteroids, forcing it to crash on what would eventually become Cibola Seven. He saw the Tuatha, named Belgu, go deep underground to find protection from the nebula’s particles that disrupted its physical form. He saw it gradually lose hope of being rescued before its resources failed. He watched as Belgu entered a stasis field and slept for centuries…

  He saw the faces of the First Five Citizens as young explorers and colonists when they discovered the hibernating Belgu. A young Maximo Ryan was among them, but not the handsome Artemis Coppenger. The Warden saw the grateful Tuatha form a partnership with this group of harried Undocs. He watched as Belgu guided them with psychic wisdom and helped to improve their technology as they built the mining empire that would make Cibola Seven a powerhouse on the Frontier and throughout the galaxy.

  But then the images grew dark and murky. Belgu began to hear rumors and stories from the various visitors to Cibola Seven. It learned of a war… a war between the United Planets and its own people. It heard rumors that its own kind no longer existed. So Belgu set out to discover the truth. But, just as before, when it had first crashed on the asteroid, Belgu found it difficult to signal beyond the nebula’s interference.

  Belgu needed more psychic energy. It needed “boosters.”

  And so, the Tuatha used its influence over the First Five to acquire those boosters from among the populace and the visitors of Cibola Seven. Maximo Ryan, in his role as Chief Constable, was Belgu’s prime accomplice in this operation. But as the booster network grew and Belgu still could find no others of its kind with which to telepathically connect, it grew desperate and depressed.

  The Tuatha’s powerful mind began to fill with the fear and confusion of the many, many people it now used for psychic energy. This fear and confusion began to feed on itself.

  Belgu began to lose focus. It began to lose control. The Tuatha could feel its own unsettled emotions and concerns seeping out, washing over the asteroid’s inhabitants, affecting them. Belgu tried harder, requiring more boosters, which in turn only exacerbated the situation.

  And then Maximo Ryan began to have his doubts, began to question his actions. When the Chief Constable confronted it, Belgu wiped his mind and tried to force him into a harness, but Ryan proved too strong and fled raving into the city to be lost in madness. But the Tuatha quickly found a new catspaw in the ambitious Coppenger.

  By now, Belgu had mastered the art of manipulating and altering digital imagery and computer code. To a being as old as the Tuatha, what difference did a few decades make to chronology…?

  The Warden gulped in the foul air as strong metallic hands pulled him to his feet. He blinked, free of the alien thoughts and memories. The security bots hauled him and Maria to new harnesses being wired into the booster network.

  Sandoval stood smiling beside the vacant places. “You are so very lucky, Warden. You and your young companion will now know the eternal joy of becoming one with God.”

  “Belgu!” the Warden shouted. “The rumors are true. You are the last of your kind. The Tuatha destroyed themselves decades ago. They are all gone. You will never reach them, no matter how many people you drag down here and wire into your mind. All you will accomplish is driving yourself irrevocably insane while destroying the lives of countless others.

  “I thought the Tuatha were a civilized people!”

  The green glow of the seated being of energy pulsed and shifted along the spectrum until it became a brilliant scarlet fire. A moment later, waves of hatred and rage rippled through the Warden’s mind, followed immediately by exquisite agony. He almost didn’t hear the horrific cries of the people wired into the network over his own hoarse exclamations and the surprised wails of Maria and her father.

  Crumpled on the cavern floor, gaspi
ng for breath as his head threatened to explode, the Warden’s heart was crushed under the weight of a loneliness and isolation he thought he could never imagine.

  Somewhere, deep within his rupturing psyche, he understood that loneliness was the key.

  Belgu! Unable to articulate comprehensible speech, the Warden reached out with his mind, trying to reconnect the psychic link he had shared with the Tuatha. Unsure if he had succeeded or not, he forced himself to ignore the pain that systematically shredded his existence, and to focus on his friendship with Quantum, and on the people he had met and helped since his return to the timeline.

  You don’t have to be alone. There are good people in this galaxy. People with whom you can form relationships. People with whom you can build a new life. And as long as you are alive, some part of your people, your loved ones, will live on in you. Please, Belgu. Please release us and choose to live. Do not let the Tuatha die down in this hole…

  The Warden blinked, suddenly aware of the absence of pain.

  He struggled to his feet and looked around. The boosters were sleepily emerging from their harnesses, looking around in confusion. Maria and her father shared a tearful embrace with the man she had called Marcus.

  The Warden turned to head back up the tunnel to where he knew Quantum would be escaping his own comatose captivity. But he was frozen by a rush of emotion and the sensation of renewed energy at the room’s center. He turned back to the Tuatha.

  Belgu had risen from its throne, glowing a peaceful aqua color as it stood before him. The Warden heard its voice in his mind, more focused and articulate than before.

  I am sorry for the harm I have done here. As soon as I entered this device and connected with the first alien mind, I was no longer truly myself. I was no longer Tuatha… I fed my own doubts and fears with those of the people I sought to use for my experiment… Thank you for freeing me from my own folly. My own madness.