Day of the Dragonstar (34 page)

Read Day of the Dragonstar Online

Authors: David Bischoff,Thomas F. Monteleone

Stunned by the gun’s report and the instantaneous death of his comrade, the man named Rassim still held onto Welsh as the guard collapsed lifelessly. Almost calmly, the captain swung the automatic towards the traitor in the IASA uniform and pulled the trigger twice. Ignoring the loud bark of the shells, he watched almost with fascination as two dark holes opened themselves in the man’s chest. One of the slugs must have hit something vital because a veritable fountain of blood shot from the tiny dark pit and Rassim was thrown violently through the hatch, his hands still reflexively grabbing Welsh and carrying him along.

Die! You bastard! Die!
raged the Welsh, silently, as he pulled himself from the doomed man’s hold. Rassim Iay on his pack, his head thrown askew, his feet drumming out a death-tap on the deck as the fountain of red now ebbed to a trickle.

Slowly, Welsh took cover behind a bulkhead and waited to see if the shots might have attracted any more of the Arab terrorists, but after a few long minutes, he was certain that he was now alone on the ore-ship. To be absolutely positive, he forced himself to scour the corridors and the decks, then secured the outer hatch and deactivated the airlock, sealing himself in.

When he returned to the flight deck, he activated the frequency scanner and monitored various channels until he heard the voice of Colonel Kemp of the IASA. Locking in, he interrupted the broadcast. “Breaker, breaker . . . this is Captain Welsh on board the
Andromache . . .
Mayday and breaker here . . .”

He repeated the short message until he heard the voice of Kemp acknowledge. “We copy,
Andromache.
What is it, Welsh? I’m afraid we’ve got our hands full right now . . . .”

Fran could hear the sound of confusion and explosions in the background, and the
whomping
sound of ornithopter’s rotors. Quickly he relayed what had happened, and that the oreship was now secure. What followed surprised him, but certainly did not displease him. Kemp told him to remain aboard until he was contacted, and then quickly radioed out.

Captain Welsh smiled, satisfied that he had done his part, and returned to the stash of beer on the bridge.

* * *

Colonel Phineas Kemp peered through the bubble of the ornithopter as he replaced the radio mike in its clasp. “Stay at this altitude,” he said to his pilot. “They might try to take a few shots at us . . . though I do have to admit, they look pretty busy down there.” Zabriski nodded and kept a steady course over the saurian territory.

“Now get down to the left, towards that temple-like building. Two of our people are down there and I want to reach them before the guerrillas do.” Phineas reached again for the communications mike as he surveyed the chaos below. He saw a whole detachment of saurians with no clothing, and wondered if they might be of the warrior-class Coopersmith had mentioned. There were so many things to learn about the intelligent reptiles, but there would be time for that later.

“Coopersmith, Kemp here! We’re coming in! Where are those emplacements I requested? Those saurians could use some help!”

The radio crackled with Coopersmith’s voice. “On the way, Colonel. We thought they’d be hitting the barrier farther down the line.”

“Well, get them back here, quick!”

“Already done.”

“And get ready to go. Tell Becky we’re taking you out of here!”

“No objection, Phineas. The fighting sounds pretty heavy out there.”

“It
is,
Coopersmith. Over.”

Phineas Kemp took one more look behind as the battlefield was lost to sight. His last image was that of an Allosaurus tromping through a group of TWC commandos, while holding one in its jaws like a limp cigar. The Tyrannosaurus had been felled.

“My God,” Kemp said, shaking his head. The ornithopter began to lower, coming to a final rest by the temple of the philosopher-kings. “I wonder if the TWC would have come if they’d known what was waiting for them.”

“I wonder if
we
would have, sir,” Zabriski said. “From that Snipe onward, things haven’t exactly been rosy with Artifact One.”

“It will all work out, Zabriski. It will be worth it all.”

“Right now, I just want to get out of here alive.”

The ornithopter rocked to a halt. Kemp slid the door back, hurled out, and raced for the temple steps; which he took two at a time.

Coopersmith was in the hallway.

“Where’s Becky?” Kemp demanded.

“She’s collecting some of the saurian manuscripts. She doesn’t want them destroyed by the TWC.”

“Damn the manuscripts! Ger her,
now!
I’m going to raise the troops on the way here. Then we’re going to get the hell
out!”

The clattering and booming sounds of the conflict were rapidly drawing near. Kemp drew his pistol, then began to pace nervously. To have come so
far,
despite all the obstacles—and then to lose it! The thought was almost too much to take. He was almost ready to abandon Coopersmith and Becky. They’d made it in the wilderness, hadn’t they? This business was more important than a couple of lovebirds . . .

He shoved the thought from his mind, realizing that it was born as much of perverse jealousy as impatience.

A minute later, Becky came racing out, scrolls under her arm. Kemp glared at her angrily, and was about to yell at her when Coopersmith, his own pistol drawn, bounded out athletically. “Okay! Let’s go! I saw a detachment moving down the street from a window. No time to waste!” They ran out to the waiting ornithopter.

Funny, thought Kemp. Why had Zabriski opaqued the polarized glass?

Unless . . .

“Coopersmith, no!” But Ian Coopersmith was already hauling at the sliding door.

The handguns bristled from the cabin, held by men in battle suits. “Ah, Colonel Phineas Kemp,” a man with a beard said. “I suggest that you put your weapons down. We have much to talk about.”

Zabriski called, “I’m sorry, Colonel. They just stormed in before I knew what was happening.”

Frustration clenching his gut, Phineas Kemp sighed and threw his pistol in the dirt.

“SO, JASHAD,”
Kemp said sourly. “You’re just leaving your men to be scarfed up by dinosaurs.” He gazed through the bubble’s glass at the land streaking past below, watching the shadow of the ornithopter flow unsteadily over forest and saurian grain fields and saurian buildings. He’d never felt so low, so
beaten
in his life.

“The fighting men of the TWC were aware of the danger,” the dark, bearded man said. “They have always been willing to give their lives for our cause.”

“Bloody well drilled into them, I don’t doubt!” Coopersmith spat sarcastically. “Is that all you people know? Violence?”

“We were well taught by your peoples of the West, my friend. After so many years of oppression, we learned the ways of survival.”

“Political tommyrot!” Ian Coopersmith said. “Propaganda! I’m part West Indian. My ancestors knew
real
oppression, and I know the difference between efforts to survive, to maintain dignity, and a full-scale power play by a world cartel. You’re just a puppet, Jashad. A puppet.”

“I can see the strings moving your mouth, Ian Coopersmith,” Jashad said, undisturbed. “Perhaps we are all pawns. But the game is interesting and worthwhile, is it not? The keys to the universe? I wish that
this
pawn’s masters had those, and not your side. That is an honest emotion, I assure all of you.”

The TWC commandos had tied them all up, except for Zabriski, who was flying the ornithopter. They did not want to fire a gun in the cabin, and therefore, one of the commandos, to emphasize their determination, held a knife to Rebecca Thalberg’s throat.

Jashad knew about the temple with the portal into the aft end of the ship. Jashad had demanded to be taken there immediately.

“My men can take care of themselves,” Jashad continued. “There will be many casualties, true. But once they take up a fortress position in the city, they will be able to endure long enough to be aided.”

“You
hope,”
Becky said defiantly.

“Yes. I do hope,” Jashad said. “I also hope to be at this temple soon. How long, pilot?”

“Just a minute more,” Zabriski answered. “The end’s coming up.”

Already shreds of mist had begun to envelop, them. This part of the cylinder was shrouded in a permanent light fog, due to the air currents and collected water vapor. Zabriski leaned forward, and pointed. “That’s it, right over there.” So saying, she tilted the ornithopter toward the structure.

Backed by dull grey alloy, the temple stood in bright contrast. White pillars reared over a long series of steps, its only resemblance to Earthly temples. Otherwise, the architecture, like that of the other buildings the saurians had built, seemed based more on organic principles rather than geometric, as though to celebrate the aesthetics of biology. Thus, the temple had all kinds of cupolas, towers, mounds, and protrusions, linked by vein-like passageways.

“Set us down right by the steps,” Jashad said. Then a thought seemed to occur to him. He swiveled to Kemp. “Are there guards?”

Coopersmith answered for him. “Only at the actual portal inside the temple.”

“How many?”

“Four.”

“Will it be necessary to kill them? Or would you people be so kind as to extend your carte blanche to your esteemed captors?”

“I don’t want to see any more people killed, human
or
saurian,” Kemp responded immediately. “We’ll see that you get through.”

“Excellent! I must admit that when possible, I abhor violence.”

The ornithopter dropped down. The prisoners were untied. Prodded by pistol barrels, they led the way through the entrance of the saurian temple. The place smelled of musk and mystery. Coopersmith led them down a series of tunnels, footsteps echoing eerily.

The corridor ballooned into a large chamber, filled with light. At the other end, Doctor Robert Jakes was trying to communicate to the guards, waving his hands with frustration.

Upon spotting the new arrivals, Jakes hailed them and proceeded to run toward them excitedly. “Colonel! The door at the end opened for us. You should
see
what’s inside. I’m afraid I’ve some bad news as well.” Halfway there, he noticed that Colonel Kemp had company. He was about to turn and race back, when Jashad brandished his gun.

“Please. I wouldn’t run away,” Jashad said. “You must show us what you have found. I am very excited. Very excited indeed.”

“Colonel Kemp?” Jakes said.

“May I introduce Mr. Jashad of the TWC, Doctor Jakes. He and his hoodlums are in charge now.”

Jakes sighed, “Colonel. Thesaurus is dead.”

Becky cried out, “What? What happened?”

“He was supposed to stay out. His radiation suit wasn’t ready. He couldn’t stand the suspense.”

Coopersmith’s voice was choked with emotion. “He saw it, though . . . he saw the other side?”

“Yes, Coopersmith. He saw it. We’ve been studying it now for quite a while.”

“And Mikaela?” asked Kemp.

“Doctor Lindstrom is in good health and has been invaluable to our investigation.” He turned suddenly to Jashad, a strange smile creeping to his face. “So. Political monsters have reared their heads. You’ve come for the stardrive, haven’t you?”

“You are a very intelligent man, Doctor,” Jashad said. “We have come for all the secrets, all the
power
that this vessel holds. It is rightfully ours.”

Jakes nodded, his expression growing stranger. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get a big kick out of what’s waiting for you back there, all right.”

Coopersmith said, “What do you mean by that, Doctor?”

“I believe there are enough suits for everyone. I suggest you put them on. Of course, Mr. Jashad and his friends—being righteous and on a holy mission—probably would not need them.”

Jashad grinned. “We are practical fanatics, Doctor Jakes.”

“Very well. They’re stacked this way. Come with me, we’ll put them on, and I’ll take you for a tour.”

They put on the suits. It took only a few minutes to convince the guards not to give the TWC commandos any trouble. The saurians seemed quite as excited as Doctor Jakes. Something
had
happened, Kemp thought. Something big.

The doors were opened for them. They passed through the curtain. Immediately, it became apparent that the new corridor was not constructed by the saurians. The walls were of the same metals as the cylinder end. Electric lights shone from their placements in the walls. The corridor stretched straight ahead.

“I am curious,” Jashad said, his features losing some of their tension lines as they were melted with awe. “If the saurian culture has had access to this section of Artifact One, as you call it, all this time, why are they not more advanced in technology?”

Doctor Jakes explained, uneasily, after getting a nod of permission from Kemp. “Apparently, all this time they’ve only had access to this particular passageway. When they first showed it to us, we were astounded, and you’ll see why when we turn around this comer up here.”

They executed the turn, the commandos still keeping their handguns trained on the captives. When he saw what awaited, Jashad obviously had a hard time keeping his attention on his proper TWC duties. He muttered an exclamation of astonishment in his native language.

Kemp, who had not seen this section of the corridor, was equally impressed. “I can see now why this is a holy place. No wonder these creatures have such a rich mythology.”

Stretching along one wall for a length of fifty meters was a panorama in three dimensions that, in pictures and sounds and smells, described the life and death of the universe in symbolic terms.

Doctor Jakes tapped the glass cover of it. “Unbreakable. They couldn’t get inside to see how it works if they
wanted
to. Now. If you’ll notice, the middle section here is a complex symbology—almost a mandala—of biological cycles. As far as I can tell, these permutations that the streaming pictures go through are
teaching
methods
to explain a non-technological method of genetic control. Hence, the saurian’s mastery of biosystems—to a certain extent, at any rate. I suspect that there’s more represented here than they can yet understand.” Doctor Jakes walked along toward the end of the moving mural.

Kemp, despite his sense of defeat and his anxiety, was dazzled. Colors flowed in intricate patterns. Representations of life forms, chemicals, genes, and molecules moved in a majestic dance that was beyond his comprehension. Strange music filtered through the air. The principal motifs of the symbology were pictoral variations of the saurians themselves.

“This was
placed
here!
On
purpose!”
he said. “To teach . . . to teach the reptiles that found it.”

“Not only that,” Doctor Jakes said, voice brimming with excitement. “Come have a look at
this
.”

At the far end of the mural, was a holographic miniature of the solar system. Included in the holograph was a representation of the very starship they were on now. The final depiction in the array was that of a creature, metamorphizing from one variation to another.

“My God,” Becky said. “It looks kind of like a man, now. “Could it be, do you think, the creatures that created this ship?”

“No,” Jakes said. “No, what you’re seeing is a mathematical projection of all the possible ways that evolution might have produced intelligent life on the planet Earth.” He breathed a sigh and shook his head with something like incredulity. “I know that because of what I’ve seen beyond the final portal. Believe me, this is just the beginning.”

It took a good deal of will power to pry themselves from the dazzling wonders displayed on the wall mural, but eventually Doctor Jakes persuaded them to continue.

The corridor stopped dead in front of them.

“This is the end of the road for saurians,” Jakes said. “At least for a while.”

“What do you mean?” Kemp asked. “Why isn’t it the end of the road for human beings?”

“There’s no way to analyze the reasons now, but I suspect they are complicated. And yet—watch.” He stepped up to the wall. A panel opened, almost magically. Jakes pulled a lever.

With a click, a door opened.

Subtle shadings of bright colors streamed through into the comparative dimness.

“Your eyes will accustom themselves soon,” Jakes said. “Come. My assistants are on the other side, taking readings.”

Wordlessly, the party shuffled through the opening into wonder. The handguns of the commandos were nearly forgotten by both captors and captives.

The theory had been that this section of the ship would not only hold the stardrives that powered this mammoth vessel, but also the control section as well as the crew quarters. There had been excited conjecture that if the alien face that had built this ship had enough technological-sophistication to recreate a reconstruction of the Earth’s Jurassic age within the main part of the cylinder, then they might have created a recreation of their home planet’s environment in the aft end.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Machines.

All the way around the circumference of this section stretched alien machinery. Large and small machines, oddly shaped machines, differently colored machines. No illuminator burned above a thick rod stretched the kilometer distance between the walls. A part of the generator, no doubt, Kemp supposed. Much of the machinery was no doubt for environmental maintenance, but still . . .

“It was dark when we came in here, Colonel,” Doctor Jakes said in a subdued tone. “But as soon as we walked just a few steps, these lights came on. All around the periphery. We immediately did just as you ordered, Colonel. We searched for the stardrive.”

Suddenly, Jashad’s eyes burned with intensity.

“Yes, Doctor Jakes. By all means, tell us about the stardrive!”

Jakes broke out in light laughter.

Angrily, Jashad waved his gun. “I am not to be mocked, Doctor Jakes, nor is our holy purpose to be mocked!”

Jakes sobered a bit. “Well, it looks as though our whole concept of this ship has been mocked. As best as
I
can tell, from an hour’s examination, based on all I know of physics and engineering, there is
no stardrive
on Artifact One. The propulsion engines, in fact, are quite similar to the ones
we
use. Only bigger, of course.” He sighed. “This, gentlemen, is most definitely
not
a starship.”

Kemp had never been so stunned in his life.

He felt the stars dwindle away out of reach. His hopes crumbled and his wonder funneled back into despair.

Jashad, however, was furious. “You’re lying, you Western scum. You’re
lying!”

Jakes shrugged. “Take my word for it, I’m not. I assure you, however, that there’s plenty of knowledge to be had within this section. There are more computer banks here than in the Eastern seaboard. From the feeling I get, though, there is nothing here that will give the domination of the universe, Jashad.” He could not suppress a wide grin, “Sorry.”

“How do you know these things?” Jashad demanded. “How can you be sure?”

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