Where Evil Lives
-1-
The door hissed
open, and Blair Munroe stepped into the small chamber off the Science lab. The
lighting inside was dim, the only sound emanating from the air circulation
vents set into the walls of the room. Alice Petrie sat in the terminal seat in
a reclined position, her head resting in the horseshoe-shaped interface unit.
Her curley blond hair was pushed askew by the encompassing headrest, her blue
eyes closed. To an uninformed observer, she would appear to be asleep. Careful
not to disturb her, Blair walked quietly to a padded chair nearby and sat down
to wait.
Alice was the
science officer of the expeditionary vessel, currently in a geosynchronous
orbit over the largest continent of the planet below. Sensory probes strove
down through the seven miles of atmosphere, searching for sources of
electrical, electromagnetic, and thermal energy. Each new discovery was quickly
logged into the records of the vessel's powerful computer, then correllated and
submitted for her review.
Review was in the
form of "communion". Magnetic energy radiated from the sofa's
headrest, stimulating the areas of Alice's cerebral cortex controlling vision,
hearing and memory. The whole of the ship's investigaion was playing across her
mind's eye; she heard it's voice in her ear, guided it by thought alone.
Blair was the
captain of the vessel. He was also Alice's lover, and the slight smile that
curled her lips as she lay in repose was enticing to him on several levels. It
was his professionalism that kept him on the subject at hand.
For over two
hundred years, man had been exploring outer space, seeking habitable worlds and
signs of intelligent life. In all that time, two things had become painfully
apparent. First, old Carl Sagan had been right--life existed but it was
incomprehensibly rare. Only six planets had been found harboring life, and only
one of those had been hospitable to man. Second Earth, as it came to be called,
was a living, breathing ecosphere in the classic Terran mold, and it had
yeilded up the second great discovery.
The ruins found on
Second Earth had been in a state of decay for millenia, but even so, their
resemblance to the pyramids of Egypt and the Mayans had been unbelievable.
Here, at last, was proof positive that an alien species had visited both
worlds.
The reptilian
aborigines who inhabited Second Earth could relate tales of "sky
gods" whose descriptions were an eerie match for the dieties called out in
ancient egyptian mythology. These sky-gods had given the aboriginies vast
"magical" powers and command over the elements, then departed. The
primitives then quickly used these "powers" to nearly exterminate
themselves in a brutal series of wars. They had knocked themselves straight
back to the stone age, and all traces of the technology they had been given
were lost in time.
Eventually, the
archeological teams investigating the sites on both worlds began referring to
these visitors as Missionaries, given that the aliens seemed to impress their
social and spiritual beliefs on the primitives they discovered. Over the next
several decades, ruins were found scattered in other solar systems, always in
advanced stages of decay. The technology employed by the Missionaries was as
vanished as the species that generated it.
Until now. The
discovery of a habitable world was news of galactic import in and of itself.
But the energy emenations detected, even by the long-range probes, on a world
with no obvious signs of sapient life, was an order of magnitude greater.
Alice sighed and
sat up. She was not suprised to see Blair waiting for her. She couldn't supress
the grin that broke across her face, like a devil with a new pitchfork.
“Well?", he
asked.
“It's there,"
she said. "It's there, it's immense, and it's artificial."
Blair closed his
eyes now, drawing in a deep breath, professionalism demanding he resist the
urge to jump up and down and scream with excitement.
A functional
Missionary power source.
-2-
Blair sat at the
conference table in the ship's briefing room. To his right was Alice, then
Petra Valenkov, the medical officer; Doug Abram, pilot; Dana Avery, Technical
Engineer; and Miles Kincaid, ship security. Alice, as the science officer, had
just completed her briefing of the rest of the crew.
"So we do have
a fix on the location of the power source?" Doug asked.
"We do,"
Alice said. She pressed a button on her laptop and a holographic map of the
continent appeared hovering translucently above the table. "You'll see
here a region where the northern sea winds sweep inland over the mountain
range, here," she pressed a button, and the areas she referred to enlarged
to fill the display, the wind direction shown as blue highlights flowing over
the view.
"The region
beyond is a desert, possibly volcanic in origin," Alice continued.
"The emanations are proceeding from the central area, here." Again,
there area enlarged to fill the display. The blow-up revealed an area of sand
with some black objects laid out on the surface in a geometric design.
“So now we actually
go in and look for it?" Kincaid said.
"This is all
the further I can get with the probes. There is a region about thirty k's to
the southeast where we can set up a base and establish the Berbils."
Kincaid stroked the
end of his chin with his fingers, considering. "No large predators in the
area?" he asked.
"None," Alice
said. Kincaid was a squat, beefy man, with a powerful build and intelligent
eyes. He was also a cautious man, overcautious in her opinion, but then , the
safety of the team was his reponsibility.
After another
moment, Kincaid placed his hand on the table, palm down, and said, "I have
no objections."
"Anyone
else?" Blair asked. Headshakes and half-spoken "no"s met his
gaze. "Very good then. As soon as Petra can cook up a suitable
pan-vaccination, we'll assemble a landing mission."
As everyone stood,
Petra asked,"Captain, to create my filing system, I'll need to know the
planet's name."
Blair smiled.
"I apologize, Petra. I presumed everyone would know. We're calling it
'Third Earth'."
-3-
Dana knelt in the
grass outside the camp enclosure, setting up the last of the Berbils. The sun
had been shining for three days now, a golden orb hanging in a pure azure sky,
surrounded the most adorable puffy white cotton-ball clouds she would have ever
seen, if she ever happend to look away from the task at hand, which was never.
Dana was not now,
nor had she ever been, at home with nature. While the others were exclaiming
about the local fauna, she was complaining about bugs -actual insects- in the
Berbils. The little bastards could not actually hurt the robots, but she had
been bitten, stung and, on one occasion, squirted entirely enough for one
survey mission.
She took comfort in
the Berbils themselves. Modern miracles of technology, and a rare spasm of
forethought from Survey Command, the robo-bears were autonomous artificial
intelligences, every one. Their design incorporated nanotechnology, giving them
a synthetic cell structure, which in turn allowed them to heal and reproduce in
the same manner as an organic creature.
When the survey
team departed, the Berbils would remain behind, cultivating, mapping resources,
building shelters first for themselves, then for the colonists who would begin
arriving in a few years. In truth, the only thing she did not love about them
was their appearance--their desginer had been a member of a Jedi cult, and had
built the things to look like Ewoks.
As she completed
prepping the last Berbil, ignoring the dozen others who thronged around her to
watch, Dana thought it was ironic she should criticize their appearance. She
was over six feet tall, painfully thin, with close-set eyes and a bird-like
nose. Her natural somberness was translated into severity by her features, and
tended to push people away. However, when she smiled, she felt she just looked
silly, so she rarely did.
She had just
inserted the last memory module into the Berbil when she heard behind her,
"Almost finished?"
She jumped visibly,
then turned to view the speaker. Of course, she knew by voice it was Blair, but
hearing him wasn't enough. Not for her.
"Yessir, just
wrapping up," she said. She snapped the access hatch on the Berbil's head
closed and pressed the activation switch behind it's left ear. The robot stood
up straight and turned clumsily to face them.
"Greetings,
Mistress," it said. "I am Ro-Bear Bill."
"Of course you
are," Blair said. "You understand your purpose?"
Dana saw Bill's
optical sensors rotate and fix momentarily on Blair's Captain rank insignia on
his left breast. "We understand, Captain, and are pleased to serve."
"Very
good," Blair said, then added to Dana, "Get them started, then join
the group at the enclosure. We're planning the site trip, and I need to know
the status on the landfloater."
"Yessir,"
she said. He nodded and turned away, heading back to the shelter. As he left,
she cursed herself vehemently. Why, for all her intellect, had she never found
a way, in a year of space travel, to tell Blair how he made her feel; the
sweet, poignant, delicious terror his attention fired inside her.
No, she thought
angrily, driving the emotions down. This line of thought always ended the same
way, in a sleepless night spent dredging up memories of opportunities for love
that she had failed to see, or bungled entirely. It would end in a pillow wet
with tears.
Restoring her
self-control, shutting out the hollow ache in her heart, she quickly instructed
the Berbils on their tasks, then set out to rejoin the group.
-4-
"It's
magnificent," Blair breathed.
The four-faced
pyramid was fashioned of a black granite-like stone, with four pillars
positioned about ten meters directly diagonal out from the corners. It had
elements of both Mayan and Egyptian design, almost identical to the relics of
Second Earth.
It had taken only
moments for Doug's handscanner to locate the concealed latch that opened the
entrance to the pyramid. It had taken barely an hour to establish the research
station, connecting the cameras and lights to the reactive generator so that
the whole of the tomb could be illuminated and the intricate hyroeglyphics
adorning the walls recorded.
The central hall consumed
most of the monument, running almost the full length of it. In the geometric
center of the structure was a large stone circle, apparently a pool of some
type, long since dry. Aligned with the center of the pool and in line with the
outer obelisks were towering statues, constructed from the same stone as the
pyramid itself. Rising twenty feet high, fashioned in the image of the
Missionary gods, they were conclusive proof of that nomadic race's former
presence here.
At the end opposite
the entrance they had found the altar and sarcophagus. Scanner readings
indicated the both were hollow, and both contained some sort of organic
material. Unfortunately, the seal to the altar had apparently been intended
permananent, as no opening mechanism was available. Blair was unconcerned,
however; there would be time for dissection of the artifact later. Doug and
Dana were at work on the sarcopohagus, and hoped to have it open shortly.
Blair sought out
Petra, and found him seated at a table in front of his computer, pouring over
images of the glyphs that had been cataloged so far.
"Any
conclusions yet, doctor?" he asked.
Petra turned to
face him. "Not much to go on, I'm afraid. The humanoids most commonly represented
are very much like ourselves in construction, bipedal and whatnot. They are
also blue, although wether this was some sort of body paint or actual
pigmentation, I cannot say."
"Similiarly, I
cannot deduce anything about their physiology, such as body temperature,
chemical composition, or even if they are mammal or reptile, or something else
entirely," he continued. "We'll have to wait until our worthy
technical staff are able to crack that nut of theirs for anything
further."
Blair looked at the
readouts. A few berbils had been drafted as cameramen, and were working their
way around the perimeter of the chamber, recording every inch of the
heiroglyphics. When the team returned to the Inferno, these would be turned
over to the AI to see if it could make sense of them.
Satisfied that
everthing was proceeding well, Blair made for the pyramid entrance. As he
approached, he saw Kincaid leaning against the wall beside the entry corridor.
Miles' gaze was intent as he carefully scanned the pyramid's confines, his jaw
muscles tense under his red-hued beard. He nodded to Blair as he drew near.
"Is something
wrong?" Blair asked.
"No,"
Kincaid replied simply. Blair could see plainly that he was lying. Miles was on
edge, but Blair knew he could not force the issue; Miles would speak when he
was ready.
He found Alice
behind the structure, her scanner extended to arms' length towards magnetic
north. He crept up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist and rested his
chin on her shoulder with one motion. She automatically turned her head in the
direction of his face to recieve a quick kiss on the cheek.
"How goes
it?" he asked.
She stepped
forward, breaking his grip on her. She punched a few more buttons and smiled
her "I'm so clever" smirk as she passed him the set.
Blair looked at the
readout screen. It showed a sphere, intersected by a plane about one-third of
the way inwards from it's surface. On the plane, within the perimeter of the
sphere, was a four-sided pyramid.
"So the source
is underground then," he said.
"The
emanations we picked up on the ship are, measured from here, about twenty
kilometers in diameter at the surface." she said. "But that's only
the upper third of the sphere."
"Which means
the source is about three times stronger than what we are measuring from
here," Blair said, finishing her thought for her.
"But that's
not all," Alice continued. She took the scanner from him, pressed the
"Next" button, and passed it back.
The display had
shifted to an overhead shot of the pyramid. Lines passed in precise
ninety-degree increments throught the statues, pillars and the corners of the
pyramid itself, of which Blair was already aware. What took him by suprise was
the line passing from the projected center of the energy sphere directly
through the center of the pyramid.
"This means
that..." he trailed off, stunned.
Alice drew near
him, speaking quietly. "It means that the structure was built at a time
when someone knew of the power source, and it's exact location. This pyramid
was built while the Missionaries were here, either by them or at their
direction."
Blair stared at her
"So if we're right, and this is actually a tomb, the cadaver could very
well be..."
"We got
it!" they heard, and both started violently. Doug was walking rapidly
towards them, grinning broadly. "We got the sarcophagus open."
-5-
Petra yawned,
stretched his arms and, upon entering the medical lab, headed immediately for
the beverage dispenser mounted in the wall by the computer workstation. He
punched buttons that produced a piping-hot cup of creamy, sweet coffee, spiked
with extra caffiene.
After recovering
the cadaver, the crew had remained planet-side for just six more hours before
boarding the shuttle and returning to the ship. It had been four more hours
since then unloading cargo and submitting to tests for perniscious microbes,
but finally they were all allowed to go back to their respective duties.
No doubt by now the
ship's science and commanding officers were busily de-stressing each other, as
were, he suspected, the pilot and engineer. He wondered if Kincaid ever thought
about approaching one of the women. No, he thought with a chuckle. That man was
so self-sufficient he probably couldn't ejaculate unless it was self-induced.
Petra had a date of
his own tonight. There he was on the examining table, a handsome rogue
certainly, but something of a complexion problem. Being dead for thousands of
years was likely a factor in that.
The mummy was
short, about Petra's height, it's leathery blue skin drawn tightly to it's
skull and bony hands. It was swarthed everywhere else in tight-fitting mummy
bindings fashioned from native fibers. A red cloak, remarkable well-preserved,
covered the creature to it's complete length.
Petra activated the
examination systems, ordering a full workup, including chemical composition,
x-ray, magnetic resonance and CAT scans, and a host of other tests.
He took a set of
forceps from the drawer beneath the table. "Now this won't hurt a
bit," he said to the cadaver, chuckling again at his own wit. He pinched a
tiny piece of tissue from the back of the right hand and placed it on a glass
slide. He carried the slide back to the work station and slid it into the
electron microscope. He activated the system and began to focus the image.
After several
moments he got a satisfactory picture. He leaned back in his chair to consider
what he was seeing. When it dawned on him, he leaned forward, the chair
creaking under his girth, staring in utter amazement, transfixed by the image
before him.
So immersed was he
that he was unaware of movement in the lab behind him, until a dessicated
blue-skinned hand grasped him below the chin and spun his head violently
around, breaking his neck.
-6-
"Warning!
Warning! Medical Officer Valenkov's life signs have terminated! Proceed immediately
to the medical science center and render aid! Warning! Warning!"...
The alarm shocked
Blair and Alice out of bed and sent them scrambling for their robes. The
message repeated over and over as they raced out the door and down the hall
towards the lifts. Inside, Blair hit the button for C deck, where Medical was
located, then stepped away from the panel to wait for the doors to open.
"What
happened?" Alice asked raspily.
"Probably the
heart attack he's been working towards the whole voyage," Blair said. It
was a crude comment, but Alice could see the intensity in his eyes, the way his
whole body seemed to shift itself into high gear in a crisis. She loved him,
body and soul, and knew in her heart that even death would fear such a man.
Blair burst into
the Medical Lab and stopped. Behind him, Alice emitted a short, piercing
scream.
Petra was sprawled
on the floor motionless. At his feet stood the cadaver, it's red cloak thrown
back over it's shoulders, it's arms outstretched over Petra's body. Both forms
were surrounded in a cloud of bloody vapor.
Even as his mind
struggled to get ahold of this impossible scene, he realized that Petra's body
was decaying at an impossible rate. Like a time-lapse video, the portly
Russian's body was dissolving, collapsing into itself, dissappearing. In the
same instant, he realized the cadaver was filling out, it's ancient flesh
regenerating.
My God, he thought,
It's eating him.
He felt a hand on
his shoulder, pushing him back towards the door. It was Kincaid, and in his
other hand was a maser. Blair backed away, pushing Alice along behind him ,
while Miles took aim and fired.
The maser emitted a
high-pitched whine, unleashing a burst of microwaves that vaporized the
creature's organic tissue without jeapordizing the hull of the ship beyond.
Miles fired twice more, producing half-dollar sized holes passing completely
through the creature's chest.
The creature threw
it's head back in a silent shriek of pain. The mist surrounding it collapsed,
drenching both itself, Petra's corpse and the surrounding area in a flood of
gore. It oriented it's outstretched hands to point towards Miles.
The room exploded
in blinding light. Blair threw his hands up by reflex, then was knocked from
his feet by a deafening roar.
"Get
out!" Blair screamed to Alice, unable to hear his own voice. He struggled
to his knees, tried to open his eyes and found that they were open. Deaf and
blind, he could not tell where Alice or Miles were, whether they had heard him,
or if they were alive to hear. Panic swept over him, making his heart thud
wildly inside his chest.
On his knees, he
felt around himself desperately, trying to locate the maser. Hands grasped his
shoulders, and he lashed out blindly, felt his arm caught and worked into an
wristlock. He struggled for several frantic seconds, then felt a sting on his
captured arm. Immediately he felt the panic begin to subside, replaced by a
warm narcotic glow. His sensory darkness subsided into the darkness of
unconciousness.
-7-
He felt something
cool pressed to his face, the soothing sensation making him aware of the pain
it eased. His face felt hot, dry and stiff. Burnt, he thought. Alice, he
thought.
He opened his eyes,
and was relieved to find he could see again. He was lying on a blanket
stretched out on the floor of the ship's bridge. Alice was wiping his face with
a cloth that smelled medicinal.
"It's from the
first aid kit," she said, noticing him looking at it. "You've got a
first-degree burn on your face and hands." She picked up his hand and
began to stroke it with the cloth, like a caress. "You should be fine in a
few days."
It was hard to hear
her, the way his ears were ringing. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm
fine," she said. "You shielded me from the worst of the blast with
your body."
He sat up stiffly.
"Kincaid?"
Alice mouth drew
down into a bitter frown. She looked away from him and wiped her eyes quickly
and shook here head twice.
As he got to his
feet, Alice rising beside him, he noticed Doug and Dana by the com console. As
he approached, Doug passed him a maser. "Is that thing still alive?"
he asked.
"We're not
sure, sir," Doug said. "There was nothing in the room but yourselves
and the bodies when we arrived. By the smell in the room and the condition of
Kincaid's body, I'd guess some sort of electrical discharge took place."
"Alright,"
Blair said. "We need to know if that thing is still aboard our ship. Even
if it was killed, death doesn't seem very permanent for it. If it is still
alive, then we need to know what we're dealing with."
"Doug, Dana, I
want you to remain here. Work on the translation of the heiroglyphics we took
from the pyramid, they may tell us something useful. Alice, arm yourself and
come with me."
As Alice retrived a
maser from the secure rack on the bridge wall, Blair asked, "What did you
two do with the bodies?"
Dana said, "We
bagged them and put them in refrigerated storage in the lab."
Blair nodded and
walked to the bridge door. Dana fell in behind him. He unlocked the hatch and cracked
the opening, looking through the slit for movement. Seeing nothing, he
carefully exited the bridge. When nothing happened to him, he waved Alice
through and closed the hatch. He heard Doug secure it as they advanced down the
hall, weapons ready.
They rode down the
lift in silence, weapons trained on the door as it slid open. They moved down
the corridor to Medical, entering in the same manner they had left the bridge.
The medical lab
stank of charred flesh and ozone. A thin layer of soot covered every exposed
surface. They completed a circuit of the lab, but found no sign of the
creature. Alice moved to the control console while Blair covered the rest of
the room with his maser.
"Damn,"
Alice swore. "The computer is shot. Probably took damage from the
discharge Doug was describing." She stepped quickly to the microscope.
"This is done for too. Oh, wait..." she said, and ejected a disk from
the microscope's data drive. "The drive is shielded. There may be
something left on this."
Blair nodded and
said, "I want you to have a look at Kincaid's body, see if you can tell
what sort of weapon that thing employed."
Dana moved to the
locker and carefully opened the door. Seeing no movement in the darkend room,
she snapped the overhead lights on.
"Blair,"
she said, the quaver in her voice making his chest constrict. "What?"
he said.
Inside the
refrigeration chamber, two specimen drawers, man-sized, were pulled out of the
storage units. Both were empty.
-8-
"Do you think
they're alright?" Dana asked.
Doug smiled what he
hoped was a reassuring smile. They were sitting on the deck in the corner
nearest the door, waiting for the computer to finish, or the others to return,
whichever came first. "Sure they are. I trust them both."
Dana said,
"I've heard you say that before, that you 'trust' someone. That really
means something to you, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it
does," Doug said. "Blair's been in Exploratory for twenty years now,
and Alice is one of the top science officers in the fleet. Their combined IQ is
probably greater than the ship's computer. I trust their judgement."
"That's not
what I mean," Dana said. "I didn't ask why you trusted them. I wanted
to know why it's so important to you to trust them."
Doug thought this
over for several minutes as the computer struggled on with it's translations.
"I guess I just need to feel confident in my team. We all have to depend
on each other at different times, and if we don't trust each others' abilities
and respect their decisions, then we can't call ourselves a team."
Dana was quiet,
watching him for a moment. "Do you trust me, Doug?" she asked,
softly.
"Yeah, I
do," he replied, with complete sincerity.
"Translation
complete," the computer chirped.
"Summarize and
save files," Doug instructed. They got up from the floor and walked
towards the console, Dana in front. Halfway across the room, Doug noticed a
reddish glow that seemed to float eye-level in midair. Something struck him in
the throat, and he felt himself go numb from the neck down. He struck the floor
and rolled, coming to rest against the captain's chair.
Everything was
dreamlike. He saw the creature appear in the room, like a fuzzy video image
being tuned into focus. It was filled out now, thin and bony, but not the dried
husk they had brought from the surface. It's strength was obvious, for with one
arm it lifted the screaming, struggling woman from the deck by her throat, and
held her there until she turned purple and stopped screaming and struggling.
"I'm
sorry," he thought. "I failed you." The creature dropped the corpse
and walked with a shuffling gait to where Doug lay, twined it's fingers in his
hair and lifted him from the deck. The ease with which it did this suprised
him, but no more than the sight of his own headless body beside Dana's.
-9-
Alice and Blair
were preparing to leave the medical lab when the ship's alarms began to bray.
"Warning! Emergency landing procedures initiated. All hands to stations.
Warning..."
Blair broke for the
door, then stopped short when Alice yelled, "Wait!"
-10-
Covering their path
with the masers as best they could, the two raced back to the lift, then down
the corridor to the bridge. Blair punched in his security code, but the door
wouldn't open. He tried it again, and still no response.
"Engineering",
Alice said, grabbing his shoulder. They turned to go, and the door hissed open
behind them. They spun back, terror electrifying their spines, snapping their
weapons up into the doorway.
Nothing moved.
Blair stepped quickly into the room, Alice at his back. Their eyes ran across
the bridge, and then Alice gasped.
Blair grimaced at
the sight of the bodies. Two more of his friends were dead, Dana's asphyxiated
corpse was laying like discarded rubbish on the floor of his bridge, Doug's
severed head sitting on the ship's navigation console like some grotesque desk
furnishing. But when Doug's eyes seemed to follow his movements, the head rock
on the console as the jaw worked, mouthing voiceless words, Blair had to
question whether his hold on sanity was slipping.
Alice ran without hesitation
to the nav console, punching buttons furiously, yelling over the wailing
klaxons, "Computer, abort, abort!" Blair ran up behind her and
studied the readouts, knew it was hopeless.
"It's going to
put down by the pyramid," he said in her ear to be heard over the sirens.
"No, the
trajectory's wrong," she yelled. "It'll burn up in the atmosphere! We
have to get to an escape pod!" Even as she spoke, the huge vessel
shuddered violently, throwing her into the console and Blair to the deck.
They raced through
the door, weapons forgotten in their hands, as the ship continued it's death
throes. Just beyond the door was a hatch built into the side of the corridor.
Blair raised the cover on the switch by the door, pressed it. The hatch slid
open, and they ran inside the small room.
The pod was large
enough to accomodate the entire crew, so they had ample room to move. Blair
secured the pod while Alice entered the landing coordinates, far from the site
of the black pyramid. She hit the launch button, and the vessel broke loose
from it's parent craft.
Alice turned from
the console and walked over to Blair, putting her arms around him. They held
each other tightly, unaware that the navigation console buttons had begun to
depress and release rapidly, as though struck by invisible fingers. In seconds,
the landing coordinates were changed.
Blair opened his
eyes, saw the movement, and pulled free from Alice, thrusting he aside. He
whipped his maser up to aim at the moving keyboard, then stopped.
Out of the air, a
wavering shape appeared, solidified, revealing the red-cloaked, bandage-swathed
form of the alien.
"Lay down your
weapons. They are of no use against me," the creature said slowly. It's
voice was quavering, yet deep, full of power and authority."
"I suspected if
you could learn to navigate our craft, then our language was probably no
challenge for you," Alice said, but she did not lower her maser. With
every second, the pod rocketed further from the mothership, closer to it's
destination on Third Earth below.
"Who are
you?" Blair demanded.
The creature issued
a cackling, obscene laugh. "I am the eternal night that falls at the end
of life. I am the tomb, forever hungering for the warm flesh of the living,
while I myself can never die. I am the servant of the ancient spirits of evil,
the destroyer of gods, become a god myself."
"I am Mumm-Ra,
the Ever-Living, ruler of this world, and your new master."
Blair looked at
Alice, who looked back, shrugged and nodded. Even as she did so, her form
flickered before him. Mumm-Ra noticed.
"What trickery
is this?!" the creature bellowed. It's hands rose, lightning flashed
unerring towards them, passed through them and struck the bulkhead, searing and
puckering the metal.
The images of Blair
and Alice glowed as they were ionized by the discharge. "This is where we
part, you murdering bastard. Happy landings," Blair said, and then the
pair of them vanished.
"NOOOO!"
Mumm-Ra screamed as his vessel shrieked towards the earth far below. He spun to
the controls, struck them in the patterns he had discovered in the brain of the
pilot. His destination was within a mile of his tomb, but he could not slow the
vessel down.
The pod's tore
through the sky at five times the speed of sound. It's hull, composed of the
strongest materials Terran science could create, struck the desert surface like
a meteor, blasting the desert sand outward from the point of impact in a
fifteen-foot high wall. The wave of sand crashed into the pyramid, then drove
higher, burying the structure beneath tons of dry silica.
Of the pod, nothing
remained but a twisted mass of metal, embedded in a sarcophagus of glass
generated by the tremendous heat.
As the pod
plummeted to the planet below, so did the vessel it had launched from. In the
science lab, Alice and Blair sat up from the interface seats and hurried
towards the bridge.
"I expected it
would learn what it needed to get back to it's pyramid, and would focus on
that," Alice said as they fast-walked to the lift. "It probably knows
what the word 'hologram' means, but never took the time to discover that we can
generate one anywhere in the ship."
"You're a
genius Allie," Blair said. They walked onto the bridge. "Think we can
figure out how to get control of the ship back now?"
Alice examined the
nav console for several minutes. In virtual reality, while pulling off their
ruse, she had examined it as well. This check only confirmed what she already
knew.
"I can't stop
the landing procedure; that's locked in," she said. "What I can do is
change our setdown point." She tapped keys for several seconds.
"There, about eight hundred miles from the pyramid, by this huge forrested
region."
The ship shuddered
violently, but this was not Alice manipulating the attitude jets. "There
goes the reactor core." Blair said. They watched the ship's fuel trail
behind them in a glittering stream, to safely burn up in the upper atmosphere,
rather than risk detonating on the planet's surface.
Blair put his arm
around Alice's shoulder. She pressed herself closely to him. "We never did
send out a report to Command, did we?"
"No,"
Blair said. "We were waiting for everyone to complete their share of the
report. And the hyperspatial transmitter won't work in an atmosphere."
"Well,"
Alice said. "I guess we're home."
Together, they
watched the horizon of Third Earth loom larger, until it filled the forward
screen completely.
-11-
Three years had
passed.
Blair stepped
through the airlock and into the darkened vessel. Emergency lighting was still functional,
although dim, allowing him to find his way to the emergency stairway. He
followed the stair in the direction of the science lab.
Blair's body was
lean, hardened by the nescessities of life in the great forest. Always fit, his
muscles had grown beyond the confines of his original fleet uniforms, until he
was forced to begin tanning animal hides to allow the fashioning of new clothes
for himself and Alice.
She had remained at
home this time, tending to the children with the aid of the few operable
Berbils left on board. He smiled; it was a big family, more like an elementary
school class, in truth.
The science labs
had contained a vast array of equipment, all of which had been pressed into
service at some point since the crash. First had been the terminal seats, where
they'd downloaded nescessary survival skills, such as tanning and sewing hide
clothing, directly from the AI into their own brains. Using the skills was not
unlike trying to remember how to ride a bicycle--it came back quickly, and got
stronger with practice.
The second had been
the cloning tanks in the genetics lab. Among their children were duplicates of
themselves, of Dana and Doug, and then every possible combination of the four.
To preserve viability, each zygote had it's genetic code altered, tailored just
enough to rule out the possibility of inbreeding. A few more derived directly
from tissue samples stored in cryofreeze, and the colony numbered twenty in
all. So long as intermarriage was maintained according to plan, when the children
matured, the colony would survive.
Their dwellings
were high in the ancient trees of the forests, connected by walkways; the
predators of Third Earth had proven too inventive, too powerful, or simply too
persistent for ground dwellings to be safe. Now, they only needed to return to
the ship when it's unique facilities were required, usually medical.
One of the children
had contracted a virus that was not responding to the pan-vaccine. Blair had
brought a sample of blood for the AI to analyze, then manufacture a remedy. He
dressed a slide and performed the procedure, soon collecting a vial of updated
vaccine sufficient for the whole clan.
As he left the lab,
he noticed the door was sluggish. The emergency power was failing; in no more
than a few hours, this option would not be left to them. At that point, the
ship would seal off forever.
Overcome by a
sudden wave of nostalgia, he set the vial and hypos in the airlock and began to
trek back towards the bridge. He wanted to have one last look at his command
before it passed out of his life permanently.
The bodies had been
removed, of course. He looked towards the navigation console, remembering Doug.
He had lived just six hours after the crash. Tests had revealed the secret to
survival for both him and the creature that called itself "Mumm-Ra";
his tissue was infested with nanocytes. The microscopic machines were feeding
his cells oxygen and nutrients directly from the air around him, carrying waste
to the stump of his neck to be expelled. When the power stored within the
'cytes had failed, the process stopped, and Doug died.
The 'cytes
themselves were wonders. While man-made nanotechnology produced strains
specific to given tasks--one for a cold virus, another to repair tissue,
another to ease a migraine--the alien units were non-specialized. They could
literally do anything their controller could concieve of, except generate their
own power. They had to rely on a field of energy to replenish their stores, or
they simply failed.
This of course
explained why Mumm-Ra had been so desperate to return to it's tomb. While the
nanotechnology that sustained it and gave it it's psuedo-magical powers could
be seperated from the field for a time, maybe even days, eventually that power
would flag. If it failed completely, the thing might very well die itself.
In the meantime, it
had used that miraculous technology to kill four people, cannibalizing two of
the corpses to regenerate it's own dessicated tissues. It had used them to
neutralize Doug as a threat, then very likely to patch into his brain,
extracting his knowledge of piloting the ship. It could use them to conceal
itself somehow, although just how, he did not know. It had cheated death. With
such power, no wonder the thing thought it was a god.
On the bridge, he turned
on the long-range scanners and used them to observe the pyramid site. He
observed the glazed area where Mumm-Ra's pod had crashed. Nothing seemed to
have changed; perhaps the creature had died there, in the bottom of that
glass-filled crater. He thought of the power of the alien nanotechnology
Mumm-Ra commanded, of those millions of microscopic robots, restored to their
power source, scraping away infintesimally at their crystalline tomb, eroding
their way to freedom as relentlessly as the rain tearing down the mountains.
Where had it come
from, how had it gained such power, how did it control the technology? The
Missionaries were involved, but in what way? Sometimes, in the blackest hour of
the night, he would sit in the entrance of their little hut, the last maser in
his hand, and think that maybe this creature was a Missionary, a mad
one, left behind by the others. Or perhaps it was native after all, a servant
who turned his gifts to evil purpose after the masters had departed.
Or perhaps it was a
usurper, who'd stolen the fire of the gods and turned it on them. Perhaps the
journey of the Missionaries had ended in that dark stone tomb.
The glow from the
screen began to fade, bringing him out of his reverie. As it did, he noticed
the com console screen, it's ready light glowing. He pressed the restore
switch, and saw the screen come on, the glowing icon the read "translation
summary". He pressed the icon on the screen, then cursed softly; even as
the text appeared, the screen dimmed out and the emergency lights failed
completely, lreaving him in ink-like darkenss.
Blair found his way
out by touch. As he exited the ship, the last of the vessel's energy was spent
closing and sealing the hatch. No matter; he had what he'd come for, and every
other usable piece of the equipment had long since been moved out.
Blair walked down
the gangway, turned to face the vessel. Their last link to the stars was
severed. They were as perpared as they could hope for, as they would ever be.
He began the long walk home.
Hundreds of miles
away, in the dim interior of the black pyramid, within a sealed sarcophagus,
something stirred.
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