by Unknown
When the robot had expertly restrained and dumped the new prisoners with the others, one of the glaring men laughed derisively at the oldest newcomer. An argument broke out among several of the prisoners. A few stiff backhands from Mathesse returned them to fuming silence.
Oswald pulled the oldest of the new prisoners into the small room he'd interrogated the others. He let out a pessimistic sigh and spoke into his tablet.
"What is your name?" The tablet's small speaker repeated the question in archaic Centauri.
The old man looked as Oswald as if he hadn't bothered to take note of attackers before now. He scanned Oswald's uniform, pausing over the orbital ribbons, Rocket, and Comet. Old eyes scrutinized him, but not with judgment or hate; they held a look of amazement and disbelief. The silence and intense stare was making Oswald nervous and he subtly moved his hand towards the laser on his belt.
"I am called Tok-Een-Glet in the Ay-Yon language."
Oswald noted the information indifferently on his tablet. He looked back up at the man suddenly, blinking slowly as he replied the last few seconds in his mind.
"What did you say?"
"I am called Tok-Een-Glet in the Ay-Yon language," the old man replied in broken English. The syllabication was terrible but Oswald could understand him well enough. "Where did you learn to speak Earth English? Who was your professor?" Tok wore a knowing look.
"Ms. Brandson is the first English teacher I can remember," Oswald answered conversationally. "But I learned it from my parents," he replied flippantly, trying to hide his own surprise.
"I know all the teachers of ancient Earth languages. I do not know that name." The old man waved dismissively. "Whoever taught you did not study word stresses." Tok gave a superior smile. He began speaking in Ay-Yon and Roland's translator struggled.
"Your are naming a marauder. Are you wrathful for bad schools?"
Tok laughed and spoke more of his alien tongue.
"Your needful of greater tongue making papers
"Let' stick with English," Oswald said kindly. "To answer your question, my name is Pierce Oswald." He turned the speaker on his tablet down.
Tok-Een-Glet smiled agreeably. "Very well Pierce Oswald. Where is that name from? Is that some sort of space name? It doesn't sound like it is from any people of Ay-Ya I know of."
Oswald leaned back in his chair and thrummed his fingers on the table between them. "How did you come to learn English? Why study the language of dead aliens?"
"I could ask the same," Tok-Een-Glet said, narrowing his wizened eyes.
"You could," Oswald agreed. "But I'm asking first. I promise I will tell you after you tell me why you study these dead people and what this place is?"
"How can you be here and not know what this place is?"
Oswald twirled his hand, not knowing if the Centipede would understand it the same way. Tok-Een-Glet continued in any case.
"There was a time when some people felt great guilt at what we did to Earth. As with other horrors of our past, that feeling, the emotions of it, faded into obscurity. Shamefully quickly I must admit. I hope that by studying the billions of people and other life forms that lived here, it will help us remember. Help us make better decisions." The alien shook his head slowly. "To that end, I am not hopeful."
"As to this place," Tok-Een-Glet shrugged. "It is the dome built around the machine that brought this planet here. I'm no engineer. I just know it is made from a synthetic liquid diamond matrix and lined to make it very resistant to all sorts of radiation and other jump induced nastiness." The Centauri held his hands up. "Personally, I have only a stipend to run the small historical enclave here. Unfortunately very few relics survived. But I'm not sure a killer like you would be interested."
"So your knowledge of Earth languages comes from records before the war's end?"
"Yes. Now what of your end, marauder?"
Oswald pursed his lips and considered Tok-Een-Glet. "Do you know their measurements? Do you know meters?"
Tok-Een-Glet nodded and spread his hands apart just short of a meter.
"Close enough. I was born about ten-million meters from here as the crow flies, that way." Oswald pointed in the direction of what used to be North America. "But all the crows are dead now."
"Are you some sort of squatter?" Tok-Een-Glet didn't seem to disbelieve the claim. "This planet is under the Resource Protectorate. But given you have just murdered many people, stealing water or avoiding rents probably doesn't concern you."
"Doesn't your planet have enough water?"
"With recycling advancements, yes. But Earth was brought here to help terraform Ay-Rik and Ay-Fan." Tok-Een-Glet looked incredulous, as if teaching a parent where children came from. "It was very controversial at the time. The compromise was to place Earth well away from the inner planets to prevent unintended orbital influence."
"How old are you, Tok-Een-Glet?" Oswald looked down at his tablet as the Centauri answered in his native language, unable to translate the time frame. The tablet translated the answer to approximately sixty years. Oswald ran a quick conversion.
"What if I told you I was born four-hundred and sixty-something Earth years ago?" Oswald spoke the numbers into the tablet and let Roland speak the translation.
"I would say that you are full of fecal waste, as the Earthmen used to say."
"We still say something like that." Oswald's voice had grown cold. Tok-Een-Glet's expression turned cautious.
"I do not believe that."
"You seemed to recognize this," Oswald tapped his ribbons.
"Costumes."
"So we came here, destroyed your station with our war rocket, captured this dome, dressed in ancient Earth Force uniforms, why? To trick your military into thinking it was really a long dead enemy come back to wreak vengeance?"
"Maybe." Tok-Een-Glet didn't sound convinced. "Maybe you are trying to disguise your selves or you motives. But I only see the blood on your hands."
"So," Oswald asked seriously. "Who came first? Earthmen or AyYon?"
"It is nearly forbidden to ask. The idea that we've killed our forebears would likely cause... great unrest."
Oswald grinned wryly. "Yeah, no joke. Would you kill yourself if you were to tell me your personal belief then? You've obviously spent some time researching our dead society."
"Assuming I even believed your story, I would not speak my mind of it."
"It is no trick. Your people killed my world while my crew and I were away. It took us a while to find Earth. We are here to do as much damage as we can before we die. We are a homeless, hopeless host not long for the universe."
Something in Oswald's face made Tok-Een-Glet consider the claim seriously before finally rejecting it. "Well, as the ancients said, you are the ones with the lasers."
"Take me to the machinery that moved this planet."
Tok-Een-Glet stood and bowed, walking slowly from the room into the main lobby. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Oswald was still following.
"Hashi. Mathesse." Oswald's voice echoed through the hall. Several prisoners flinched at the noise. The summoned crew members joined their flight commander in following the Centauri into the dome.
"Yes, sir?"
"Well, Hashi. I'd like you to meet Tok-Een-Glet." Oswald smiled. "He's about sixty years old, a professor by trade, and likes to learn ancient languages of Earth. Isn't that so, Tok?"
"It is my pleasure to meet you, Hashi."
"His pronunciation is terrible," Mathesse said cheerily. "The Centauri ambassadors I always heard spoke quit fluently. English and Chinese."
"Well," Oswald said in a dangerous voice that made Tok-Een-Glet look away. "He studies dead languages from dead people. Isn't that true?"
The Centauri was wise enough not to answer. Hearing so many people speak the Earth language so casually had him considering his disbelief. Tok-Een-Glet silently led them to two meter dome in the center of the complex. Oswald's crew had not seen the clever hatch. It wasn't
hidden so much as the Earth people were just unfamiliar with the architecture. Tok-Een-Glet slid a hand over a small panel to reveal a small, featureless pad. "You will need a bypass crystal," the Centauri shrugged. "It is a restricted area. I have never been inside."
"And where would we find one?" Mathesse asked playfully.
"I suppose the base administrator has one," Tok answered with a coy smile.
Mathesse slapped the coy smile off the old man's face, causing Tok to fall to the ground in a tangle of legs and robes. "Why be so difficult?"
Hashi's eye flared and he was getting ready to step forward and scream at Mathesse. Oswald put his hand on Hashi's chest and stepped in front of him. The locked eyes for a moment and Hashi stepped back without a word. The Aux let out a long, quavering breath, trying to be quiet about it. But Oswald heard it. "I can point her out," Tok stammered.
"There we go," Mathesse smiled and offered the old man a hand up. Tok took it cautiously and let himself be lifted up. "Thanks for your reconsideration."
The Centauri toddled unsteadily for a few steps before heading towards where the others were gathered. He did not look into any of the glaring eyes. Oswald shot Mathesse a disapproving glare, making sure the old man could not see it but that Hashi could. Mathesse shrugged helplessly back, the lack of concern blatant on his face.
Tok-Een-Glet walked slowly by the prisoners and returned to Oswald, keeping out of arms reach of Mathesse. "I don't see her there."
"Look there." Oswald pointed to where the Centauri dead had been stacked by Rocketman. Tok looked at the pile and then at Oswald in horror, blurting out something in his alien tongue. Oswald crossed his arms and stared back.
The Centauri gulped loudly and gathered his robes up around his knees as he stepped close to the bodies. Oswald understood the old man's trepidation. Some of the corpses had terrible wounds and he was having a hard time looking as well.
Tok covered his mouth with his robes, exposing his saggy thighs, and pointed down at a woman whose head had been caved in by Rocketman. Oswald recognized her as the woman who had shot his helmet twice. Tok looked as if he was about to be sick and stepped quickly away.
"Mathesse," Oswald ordered, "go check her for a bypass crystal."
The tactical officer wrinkled his nose. "Sure thing, Colonel." After quickly rummaging around in the dead woman's pockets, Mathesse returned with a small wallet, a worn book, a handful of bullets, and a small sparkling disk. He handed the disk to Oswald and irreverently began rifling through the book and wallet.
Oswald noticed a few of the prisoners begin to glower as the tactical officer carelessly flipped through the pages of the small book, shaking his head.
"Stupid." Mathesse was about to toss the book over his shoulder when Oswald grabbed his wrist.
"Hand it over."
"Why. It's probably just their version of the Bible or something. Nothing useful." Mathesse handed the book over after a moment of his flight commander still squeezing his wrist and staring flatly into his face.
"Let's just not bring any more trouble than we need," Oswald said simply. He gently laid the book on a nearby shelf, glancing at the prisoners to see their reaction. They glared back at him angrily but seemed willing to stay where they were for the moment.
They walked back to the machine room entrance and Oswald swiped the disk over the flat panel. The clever door slid open to reveal a small lift. Tok appeared behind them, pale but standing stable. Mathesse looked questioningly at Oswald and Oswald shrugged.
"Rocketman, guard."
The four of them stepped on the platform and rode down the short shaft. Oswald opened another door at the bottom with a swipe of the disk. A final door stood beyond with yellow and green diagonal stripes, stern looking Centauri script stenciled across it. Oswald looked for another flat panel but found none. He swiped the disk over the entire surface of the door and the surrounding wall. Nothing.
"What does that sign say?" Oswald asked.
"That this room is off-limits by order of the High Security Protectorate. Violators will be subject to execution according to Security Protectorate Protocol Seven." Tok-Een-Glet looked nervously at the wall, taking a tentative step away from it. "I'm not sure anyone on the planet has access to this door. It might be controlled from their headquarters."
"Now why might that may be?" Mathesse asked sarcastically.
"The machinery behind it is powerful and top-secret. Moving a planet is no small matter," Tok answered gravely. Mathesse rolled his eyes at the Centauri.
Oswald studied the door. It was thick and quite solid, but the latches were obvious. He drew his pistol.
"You're right. It is no small matter." Oswald started burning through the latches. They were tougher than expected and both Oswald's and Mathesse's batteries had been drained when the door finally fell. TokEen-Glet watched without protest, just as curious to see behind the door as they were.
The compartment beyond was packed with screens, panels, and cables. In the center of the machinery was a large mechanical box. One screen had a star map and the other began flashing red.
"That is probably an alarm," the Centauri offered. Oswald nodded absently as he explored the small room.
"Sir, this looks like where commands are entered," McFarran said, running his fingers along a small input panel.
Oswald nodded again and examined the frame in the center. A monitor flashed to life as he approached, showing a spider-web overlaid with a topographical map of the Earth. The center of the web was this facility and the fingers of the web seemed to go all the way around the planet to meet each other on the other side.
"And we thought the golden spike was impressive," Mathesse joked.
"I think that is the jump grid," Tok-Een-Glet said over Oswald's shoulder. "I don't know much about the project. Just that it took over one-hundred years to complete the system that allowed the move, including clearing out the junk in orbit. I hear it was quite a mess."
"Yes, decades of destroyed Centauri invaders and missiles does tend to leave a mess," Oswald agreed sharply. He knew it was a mess before Earth even had jump gates, but he wasn't going to give the old alien any satisfaction at his dead home-world's expense.
Another screen blinked red and a voice in Ay-Yon blared from the speaker.
"What is it saying?" Mathesse asked, picking his nose in front of the monitor.
"It says that it is forbidden to interfere with this machinery and to leave this room at once. Centauri authorities have been dispatched." Tok-Een-Glet listened a moment longer. "It is repeating. But that is the seal of the Protectorate. They will send someone right away."
"Oh, no," Oswald gasped. He managed to open a portal on the box and stared inside with wide, unblinking eyes.
"Yes," Tok-Een-Glet agreed, oblivious. "They'll be very upset with you and probably won't believe your lies either."
"What the..." Mathesse looked over Oswald's shoulder, through the thick portal, and cursed softly.
"Sacré blue," McFarran whispered.
Tok-Een-Glet approached the shocked Earthmen impostors and looked between them into the portal. "What is that?" The Centauri scholar squinted and tried to get a better view around his captors. "I cannot make out what that is."
Chapter 30 The artifact from Delta P unhinged Oswald. He stood staring into the dark sky above Earth, filled with alien stars. This planet and sky were strangers to him. The heavens and earth bore witness that neither he nor Roland could ever make it home again.
He imagined that one of the stars that stared disinterestedly down on him was Delta Pavonis. They were all so uncaring, so long-lived, that his entire life of trouble was nothing more than an unseen dust mote blown by on the wind. Oswald supposed it didn't really matter from here. His whole life would pass by in the blink of a celestial eye.
"I am become the destroyer of worlds," he muttered. It seemed undeniable that the mission he led so successfully was Earth's doom from the get go. More than once he had wished on those pru
dish stars that a Centauri missile had found Roland that day she made her historic jump. Or that the alien monsters had killed all the Rangers before they could even steal their precious cargo. Or that his own rocket had been blown in half as it fled the scene of the crime.
Instead he destroyed them all. He left two artifacts on the planet for the Centauri to find, possibly another in orbit that he couldn't be bothered to search for. The jump he should have aborted drew their enemies like moths to a flame. Then they followed Roland's trail of bread crumbs back to a world of alien treasure. And the Centauri had been a bit more forward thinking and apparently able to actually study what they found there. Oswald, on the other hand, had been put on ice, unable to defend Earth or his family. And ultimately his great success had enabled the enemy to utterly and finally render Earth completely lifeless.
As he pondered his own hand in the cataclysm, Oswald refused to respond to any needs of Roland. He could give a blaze about being flight commander at the moment. A fat lot of good he had done his planet or his rocket. McFarran checked on Oswald at least once an hour as he carried out the duties of scheduling, monitoring the rocket's systems, and caring for the captives. Each time he found Oswald staring blankly through the dome into the stars over Earth's frozen horizon.
"Pierce." Mathesse had sidled up to Oswald unnoticed. The casual address managed to stir Oswald for a second. "I know you've been thinking a lot. That artifact... what a mind-job, eh? I'm not sure what we should do; I'll follow your lead. But," Mathesse paused with obvious concern about what he was about to say, "I'm afraid that Hashi is going native. Look at him over there, talking to that alien egg-head."
Oswald, for the first time in hours, pulled his bleary eyes from the starscape before him and glanced where Mathesse had motioned. Hashi was chatting with Tok-Een-Glet. Oswald would normally not question his Aux's motives. He knew that it was usually best to get information with friendly banter, by establishing trust and repertoire. But he had to wonder if Hashi was trying to get a patron or at least a friendly character witness for his planned surrender. Oswald hated that he wondered at that. Should he have hard feelings against Hashi for wanting to cling to his life? Or was Oswald just getting paranoid as his life slipped towards its final conclusion like sands through an hourglass.
