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Weird Tales About the End

Page 5

by E. W. Farnsworth


  Manny knew he had to leave Phobos—and he had gathered everything he needed. He felt ill about Hygeia’s suicide, if that’s what it was. That afternoon, he got into his spaceship and launched for a distant waypoint on the way to the least well defended of the precious asteroids that Hygeia had identified. Behind him, Phobos became a black crisp from simultaneous nuclear explosions all over its surface. So the greatest repository of wisdom in the universe was destroyed in a day. Copies of the information lay scattered in other libraries, but none as complete and expansive as the one on Phobos was.

  Manny’s voyage to Carinos subsumed three great sleeps, but it allowed him to get some distance from thoughts of Hygeia. He wondered whether he could use his memories of the librarian to compose a new 3Maggie. He corresponded with friends in the resistance about this matter, but none gave him the satisfaction that what he sought was practicable.

  Carinos was styled, “Goat Planet,” since it was rugged and populated by goats and goatherds. Under the rough surface of the asteroid were the precious metals every powerful person in the universe coveted. It was one of a dozen such goat planets—two of which were located in the same solar system as Carinos, and Manny saw an opportunity in that fact and seized it.

  The Edgemaster knew the processes by which individuals could register ownership of planetary bodies in the universe. He claimed the two planets adjacent to Carinos as well as Carinos as his own. His stated reason for the claim was “goat farming,” but he claimed all mining rights as well.

  Imperial agents at the claims registry recognized Farstar’s name, and they reported what he was doing to the imperial court. An edict went out to arrest Farstar with a large credit reward for this simple service. Still, the legality of his claim was sound, so they processed it speedily. Thus Manny Farstar became the owner of three goat planets near the edge of the universe. Further, the few imperial forces who had been designated to guard Carinos were detached from their duties so they could make the arrest.

  The imperial soldiers approached Farstar while he was herding goats in the foothills of the smallest goat planet. He had no trouble dispatching the guards and burying them in a meadow where he had previously dug fresh graves for twelve bodies. Searching the imperial vessels gave him a treasure trove of information about Carinos. In fact, he now had enough intelligence to answer all the trillionaire’s questions. He waited for the old man to make his approach.

  Word of the demise of the guardians of Carinos never reached imperial headquarters. In fact, with the demise of the Phobos archives, there reigned total confusion about the solar system in which Carinos fit. Of all the treasure-laden asteroids and planets, this one was the least concerning from the imperial point of view. Farstar thought it might take centuries for the imperial court to investigate what had happened to Carinos. That was fine with him. As far as he knew no trillionaire had made a claim to that particular rock in the universe, and according to the official records, it was now the property of Manny Farstar, the self-styled Galactic Edgemaster. The imputed value of the gold, rare earths and silver beneath its surface was thirty-two quintillian credits. And that was a conservative estimate.

  Manny Farstar for a while divested himself of his uniform and weapons and wore goat skins. He drank goat milk and made salads with goat cheese. He lived like a rustic hermit, alone and cut off from the empire and everyone in it. He was taken by surprise when an ancient visitor broke his reverie.

  “Life has treated you well, Manny Farstar.”

  “It’s hard to tell, Frictenicht. You’re looking better in the open air. I was worried you might perish before we met again.”

  “Since you are here and alive, I assume you accomplished your mission for me.”

  “As a manner of speaking, I have. But it may not be according to your lights.”

  The old man sat in the grass and chewed on goat curd that Manny offered him. “Tell me what I need to know.”

  “First, we are equals, you and I. You have your orb of wealth, and I have mine. You are sitting on mine right now. The difference between our fortunes should be clear to you. I can harvest the goods of my store, and you cannot. Where you have mortgaged your value to the Empire, I have mine intact. Yours is surrounded by imperial forces while mine may never be acknowledged as imperial by any construction for the next few hundred years.”

  The old man laughed. “It seems you’re leaving a few facts out of your construction.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as the brilliant and beautiful woman I dispatched to give you the keys to the kingdom on Phobos.”

  “So Hygeia was your agent?”

  “More properly, she was an agent for both of us.”

  “Why did she have to die?”

  “She died to protect the secrets she divulged only to you.”

  “And did you order her death?”

  The old man nodded. “Why not? It served both our interests well.”

  “Bastard.”

  “And your point is?”

  Manny Farstar looked out over his flock of goats and gritted his teeth. He wondered what made men like the old trillionaire. He invited the old man to tour his estate.

  “I have to be careful how I walk over uneven ground. Age is not kind.”

  “Just follow me a few paces. This won’t take long.”

  They walked over the next hill and, below them, a small graveyard lay. Eleven graves had been filled bit remained unmarked. A twelfth lay open.

  Farstar said, “Tell me what you see.”

  The old man brought out a weapon and trained it at the Edgemaster’s head. “I see an almost full graveyard with an empty grave for you or me.”

  “Whose body should that last grave contain? I wonder.”

  “We had a bargain. Tell me how you satisfied that, or die.”

  The Edgemaster nodded. “You wanted me to find a way to make an island of wealth disappear entirely. That I have done—and you are standing now on the result. You’re right that Hygeia was the genius who led me to the solution, but you had a hand in that. And I had no hand in her death. So I have, with help I acknowledge, accomplished my mission.”

  “In whose name is this property registered?”

  “You know the answer to that question, or you would not be here.”

  “By right, I should be the owner of this property, not you.”

  Farstar shook his head. “Hygeia should be the owner.”

  “She was my daughter.”

  “And you had her killed! You monster.”

  “Yes. I admit I am a monster. But I am an exceedingly rich monster, am I not.”

  “Not half so rich as you had meant to be. You foresaw that I would select the least protected asteroid or planet in the universe. I predicted that you would come to me when I accomplished that. Why are you here?”

  “I like to deliver full payment in person for a job well done.”

  “So where’s my payment?”

  “Like you, I must circumambulate. So let’s sit on the edge of this empty grave and talk.”

  The two men sat on the edge of the grave, and the old man kept his weapon pointed at Farstar’s head.

  “You’re calling the shots, old man. What do you have to tell me?”

  “I brought you what I promised. Are you ready to receive her?”

  “I have all the records you require to re-register the precious planet in your name.”

  “Are you going to give up a fabulous fortune so easily as that?”

  “I told you that I am not greedy. Didn’t you believe me?”

  “I wasn’t sure. Wealth changes a man.”

  Farstar nodded. He tugged at his goatskin garment. “Do I look like I was changed?”

  “You aren’t wearing your uniform or your weapons as you used to do.”

  Farstar laughed. “One difference between us is that I never assumed I was really the owner of anything. What the Empire deems as ownership one day can the next day become an imperial possession.”
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br />   “Son, it all depends on how you play the game.”

  “And if you don’t intend to play the game?”

  “We’ll see who decides to play and who does not. Call the name of my daughter, please. Use your goatherd voice. She’s back over the hill.”

  Farstar called, “Hygeia!”

  Over the hill in a flowing robe came the beautiful librarian, looking as vibrant as the last day Farstar saw her. He stood up, his eyes wide open. He heard the old man chuckling.

  “Hygeia, is it really you?”

  The young woman smiled and shook her head slightly. “No, Manny. I’m your new 3Maggie, but I’ve learned a lot about what you really require. Is it true you are paying a fortune to gain me as your companion?”

  “If this old man will agree that we have a deal for that, yes.”

  Frictenicht said, “I suggest we get on with our business. It’s late in the day. And you can count on the imperial forces—they surely followed me here.”

  “What more do we need than to check to be sure that we have received what we bargained for?”

  They retired to Farstar’s rustic cabin so he could give Frictenicht the documents he needed. Farstar checked out his 3Maggie, a version of the robot capturing the features and motions of Hygeia. The two men shook hands. They went to their separate spaceships, and they managed to launch into space just before the imperial guards arrived.

  As he drove his vehicle to the rendezvous point at which he would loiter until the situation clarified, he watched his new 3Maggie fall into her role as if she had been made for it. The Edgemaster wondered how the old man had managed to integrate his own daughter’s soul into the AI software of the robot.

  She saw him puzzling. She smiled shyly. “Manny, it’s really me. Relax.”

  “It’s really you—but who are you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Neither am I.”

  For a while they watched the displays as the imperial storm troopers occupied the rock they had recently left. They also saw Frictenicht’s spacecraft hovering before it departed.

  “Do you think your father is satisfied, now that he has doubled his wealth in an afternoon?”

  “Is anyone ever truly satisfied?”

  “Put the ship on autopilot and come with me.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re going to test your hypothesis.”

  “What hypothesis?”

  “Whether anyone can ever be truly satisfied.”

  “Are you propositioning me?”

  “Is that all right with you?”

  “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment.”

  He offered her his hand. The two walked back to the sleeping compartments where he opened the door and as they cleaved together, he fell awake.

  The Five Farstar Brothers

  Manny Farstar reluctantly answered his new 3Maggie’s questions about his family and, specifically, what they did in the time leading up to the launch of the Spaceship Arcturus. His former 3Maggie never wanted to discover intimate aspects of the Edgemaster’s past; her focus was only on the future. But the replacement, whose composition included the feelings of the librarian Ms. Hygeia Frictenicht, was always surprising him. She also exhibited subtle motions so attractive on account of their grace and charm that Farstar would forget his feelings of loss for her matchless predecessor.

  “You asked about my family. What can I say? My four brothers and I were raised to course through the stars. We attended the Space Academy and were valedictorians in five successive years. Often brothers and sisters were indoctrinated for classified work on the grounds that family members might be less susceptible to treachery than folks who were not related. My brothers and I—did I mention that I was the eldest?—we were treated as if we were a special unit. Our mother and father were general officers in the Space Force, so we were given plum missions. By that I mean the most dangerous assignments, not the easiest.”

  She smiled at him, her eyes full of wonder. “Can you give examples?”

  “We were asked to perform speed trials on the most advanced spacecraft. We were sent past the known frontiers of our solar system, then our galaxy. When we discovered that the Empire already had conquered the known universe, we became the point special force against a threat that had to be kept totally secret from the masses. The leader of the Federation, which was the controlling body of the solar system, used us as his private army. Of course, he knew the darkest secrets, and, of course, he was treasonous because of the riches the Emperor promised him to deliver the Federation without engaging in a costly war.”

  “I know the history, Manny. What I’d like to find out is what your family did in the few years before the launch.”

  “It shouldn’t be surprising that the more we discovered about the state of affairs in the cosmos, the more we became involved in what became the resistance. More than that, I led my brothers to understand that, to survive, we could be neither fish nor fowl in the coming struggle. The Federation was headed for self-immolation, and we had to be ready to survive outside our birth context even if we had to go to the far corners of the universe to do that.”

  “I’m listening. Please don’t stop there. Go on.”

  “Alex was the logistician. Crytox was the cryptographer. Max was the weaponeer. Sibley was the communicator. I was the operator. All of us knew the others’ roles as well as we knew our own. That way, if the Empire—or the Federation—terminated any of us, the others would carry on.”

  “But what were you doing all these things for?” She was imploring him now with a faraway look in her eyes. She was desperate to know the truth. In fact, Manny had never known a robot with such a passion for knowing. She was like a small child always asking the question why, iteratively, to get to the ultimate mysteries.

  Manny shook his head. “We did what we had to do. Our mother and father were arrested, tortured under implemented interrogation and executed by the Federation while we were out on assignments. We returned to discover their brains had been rendered for use in the brain banks. That last voyage home was our last before we decided to go our separate ways and never regroup for any reason while we fought both the Federation and the Empire with all the means we could muster.”

  “The need for revenge runs deep in humans. I understand that intellectually, but I have a hard time grasping its essence.”

  Farstar looked into her eyes for a long time. When a buzzer sounded, she broke their eye contact and announced, “We have arrived at the coordinates you were given. Shall I begin transmitting the ‘meet me’ code?”

  “Thank you for letting me know the score. We’ll continue our talk about my family later—after we complete our current mission. No, wait on transmitting the code until we have searched the area for signs of assassins.”

  She nodded. “Our passive sensors show no contacts for at least one parsec in every direction. We seem to be in a lock-out area. I hope you entered the correct coordinates for our destination.”

  Manny went to the command center display and checked each passive sensor. When he had verified her intelligence, he said, “I offset the rendezvous by one parsec to give us time and space to reconnoiter. This sector is clear. We’ll move sector by sector until we have checked out each of six such surrounding our objective. Only when we have made sure we have no unwelcome visitors will we send the code.”

  For the next Earth week, they changed position until they had done the surveillance Manny required. In the process, they discovered one spacecraft patiently waiting. Manny supposed that was the vehicle for his contact.

  “3Maggie, let’s bring our spacecraft around to a space within the cone of 5 degrees around the rear of the lone visiting spacecraft. Open the weapons bays and train the lasers on the fuel cells of the target. When you are ready, let me know.”

  Before she had completed his orders, a weak light signal from the visitor gave the password ARCTURUS. It continued radiating the c
oded light signal as 3Maggie completed her operations.

  “Manny, I’m ready to fire. What are your instructions?”

  “Stand by, 3Maggie, to establish a ship-to-ship communication path between our vessel and the visitor. The first communication to send on that new path will be the code word ARCTURUS, repeated until we get a response. Send the signal when you are ready.”

  The elaborate dance began. The result was a two-way communication path that allowed Manny to conduct a face to face interview with the pilot of the other spaceship.

  The care-worn face of the trillionaire Frictenicht filled the display. 3Maggie gasped in surprise. Farstar swallowed and said, “Greetings, father of Hygeia, why have you summonsed me to this meeting?”

  “I see that your 3Maggie favors the young woman who used to be my daughter. She looks happy. I’m pleased. I hope you find her satisfactory.”

  Farstar kept his eyes on those of the old man. “Again, I ask you, why are we here?”

  “The deterioration of the Empire continues. Galaxy by galaxy and solar system by solar system, the rack and ruin drags all vestiges of civilization into a black hole of oblivion. I speak metaphorically, of course. Our last adventure brought us to a distant meeting place where we completed a bargain. Do you recall where we met?”

  “How could I forget. You held a weapon at my head while we discussed our relationship sitting on the edge of an empty grave on one of my three goat planets. I must assume you arranged since then to retitle those planets as yours.”

  “You gave me the documentation for the planets, but you did not specify which of the three planets was the one I desired. I had no choice but to retitle all three under my name alone.”

  Farstar kept one hand near the fire activation switch. “It hardly mattered which contained the treasure if you made all three yours.”

 

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