John Maddox Roberts - Space Angel (23 page)

There was a tremendous, elated exaltation as the godlike being renewed himself. New strength, new power, surged through his alien fabric. Soon, he would be able to meet his adversary on even terms. Time ceased to have meaning for the "spectators," as it had

when they had experienced the history of the stellar minds. Without warning, Sphere's exulting ceased.

"The Guardian is here," Homer announced.

The conflict began. The strange beings attacked one another on many levels simultaneously—mental straggles, energy clashes on a multitude of levels of reality, some of which the humans were able to perceive only dimly. Psychic skirmishes occurred on planes for which human minds had no concepts, much less words.

Suddenly the crew members were out of the Core Star, situated on a plane that seemed like their own, amid the close-packed stars of the Center. Occasionally a star would flare nova brilliantly as the two beings drew on them for support in their straggle. The humans realized that this should not be possible; even with the stars so close, they should not be able to see so many explode at once, but in their new reality, time and the speed of light were not as before. Nebulae were sundered like spiderwebs by the violence of the battle. On this level, the beings were not themselves visible, but they were wreaking destruction at the Core that would be visible on Earth in a hundred thousand years. A momentary shift of plane revealed a "place" where the combatants could be seen as two monstrous masses of color that collided and shifted without mingling.

The warring became chaotic, incomprehensible. In the collective experiencing of the
Angel'
s crew, a new development was taking place. Images dredged from their unconscious minds began to appear. In order to make the battle even marginally comprehensible, their minds began supplying images from the mythic past of Earth.

On a tremendous plain, as featureless as a floor of glass, an armored figure on horseback warred with a jewel-scaled dragon, whose breath was a noisome, poisonous fog. The dragon's neck arched, its fearsome maw agape to snap at the knight, but a giant lance passed between its jaws and .. .

Another plain, but one covered with ice and surrounded by tall mountains. In the distance, a great wooden hall could be made out, and a bridgelike rainbow arched away to infinity. On the ice, a huge gray-bearded man, one-eyed and wearing a golden helmet, did battle with a slavering wolf. The wolf's nostrils spurted flame and its eyes were red coals. Where saliva from his gleaming fangs dripped to the ice, clouds of foul steam erupted. Man and wolf fought on interminably, the man's armor unbreakable, the wolf's hide impenetrable. But the man was tiring. Without warning, he slipped, fell backwards, and the wolf was upon him, fangs flashing as ...

In an upland jungle a hideous demon stood, his lower body like that of a water buffalo, his upper that of a man. His face was that of an ape, with the tusks and ears of an elephant, and the horns of a goat. In his hands he bore a sword and shield. Against him rode a beautiful young woman mounted on a lion. She wore a crown, and from her torso sprang ten arms: two bore sword and shield; two drew the bow; one wielded the sharpened steel ring; one held an elephant goad; one a bell, one a bowl; one a mace; the last a prayer wheel. They battle continually until the demon crouched for one last spring and ...

A giant stairway, kilometers wide, stretched below and above to infinity. In middle of the golden stairway two figures can be seen. The lower is a loathsome creature, its form unstable, difficult to distinguish but repulsive nevertheless. The figure above looks human, a body clad in raiment and armor so bright they are hard to look upon. But from the creature's shoulders spread immense and graceful wings, their feathers glinting with metallic iridescence. The face is human, but inhumanly beautiful, neither male nor female, as majestic as truth and as cold as justice. With both hands, it swings a titantic sword with blade of blinding fire. The dark being quails and shrinks, inching down the stairway. The evil one tries to rise but is repeatedly forced back, growing weaker and less menacing by the moment, retreating faster, then fleeing, and then ...

Kelly came to with a jolt. He was on the floor of the navigator's bubble, leaning against the depolarizer consoles. He looked around. The others stared back at him, and at each other. The Vivers were in control of their bodies, but appeared uncharacteristically subdued. Only Homer seemed unchanged, and it was always difficult to tell about Homer anyway.

"It's over," said the skipper. "Sphere won."

"I witness that Allah is great," said Achmed, still in a daze. "I witness that He is One."

"Now what?" asked Torwald. Kelly had never heard the veteran spacer sounding so weary.

"That was the question you were getting so tired of," said Michelle.

Now I shall continue my task.

"But, you won."

Only this little skirmish. This business shall continue for some time before resolution.

"You didn't kill it?"

A stellar mind cannot be killed. We are immortal.

"Then, your objective isn't to destroy it?"

Not at all.

"What then?"

I must gain control for a time, then I must cure him.

The crew of the
Space Angel
sat in silence for a while, unable to absorb any new wonders.

"Then, you're a psychiatrist?"

That would be the closest human equivalent. I am a healer. The being called the Guardian is faulty, as are all his kind. The problem is still not completely understood. But we believe that a permanent cure is

feasible. One day I shall capture him, and he shall become a stable being once again.

"And what of us?" The skipper's mind was always on business.

You are my last task. As I informed you earlier, I am only a tiny function of Sphere's' mind delegated to deal with you. The Sphere being is still unaware of your existence. But he is nothing if not fust. You have aided him in his task. Therefore, I shall set things right with you before I abandon this disagreeable form and experience and rejoin the great mind of Sphere.

When first encountered, you were collecting the crystal that enshrouded me. You shall return home with your crystal. You have spent some little time at this task, but I think that the artifacts and information you have garnered on this journey to the center of your galaxy shall repay your trouble handsomely.

Most important, you take with you this knowledge. In the center of your galaxy lies a Core Star, a phenomenon composed of the primal matter of the universe. The control of that matter makes all things possible. It shall be eons before your species can learn to utilize the Core Star, but when you do, all possibilities will be open to you. You can even hope to become beings such as myself. I now return you to your place and time, for time means nothing at the Core. Farewell.

They blinked and stared about. One by one, they wordlessly staggered to their feet. Nobody wanted to be first to speak. Suddenly their eyes were drawn to the planet hovering overhead, its blue oceans and white clouds nearly filling the vie.w from the bubble.

"I don't believe it! That's Earth!"

"Ham, get to the bridge!" The skipper snapped out of her daze and became all business once again. "Get on the communicator and ask for instructions."

Ham had disappeared long before the skipper finished her orders. She seemed not to notice. She walked to one of the new terminals and slaved it into the bridge command consoles. A voice came through.

"What ship? This is Earthport Authority. I say again, what ship? You have dropped from hyper into orbit in an unauthorized and unorthodox fashion." The controller was obviously flustered. "Identify yourself immediately or be fired upon."

"This is the freighter
Space Angel,
Captain Gertrude HaLevy commanding."

There was a brief interlude as the unseen controller consulted his computer.

"Not the
Space Angel
that filed a spacing plan for Alpha Tau Pi Rho/4 under contract to Minsk Mineral?"

"Of course it's that one!" the skipper barked. "How many ships of that name have a skipper named HaLevy?"

"Have you been forced to turn back for an emergency?"

"Turn back?"

"Unless my readout is incorrect, you have not been away nearly long enough to have reached Alpha Tau and returned." The voice's intonation left no doubt as to what its owner considered the likelihood of a mistake by the computer.

The Skipper held her hand firmly over the mike, "But, we've been gone more than two years, subjective."

"Space Angel!"
said the voice, "prepare to be boarded by security forces of Earthport authority."

The party from Earthport Security arrived in a swift, pugnacious-looking little cutter. The crew of the
Angel
assembled at the lock to greet them. First through the hatch was a gray-haired man in Port Authority uniform, followed by several armed men in police uniforms. Their businesslike advance stopped short when they caught sight of the Vivers. The policemen fumbled at their holsters.

"Easy, men. Those two are part of my crew." The skipper fought hard to suppress a smile.

"A . . . Captain HaLevy?" The gray-haired man obviously was quite nervous. "I'm Major Whipple, Port Authority, and I hold you responsible for the behavior of those .. . those creatures."

"Do not worry, shell-less one," said K'Stin. We shall not harm your men. The sight of them reaching for weapons fills us with mirth. We are amused."

"Hmm, yes, I suppose so. Now, Captain HaLevy, I noticed as we approached that your ship mounts some highly illegal weaponry."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that."

"I dare say. Now—" Suddenly, he caught sight of Homer. "What's this? An alien animal? I fear that it must be held in orbital quarantine, effective immediately. You know the regulations very well. My God! What an ugly creature!"

"Hey, you can't talk that way about old Homer." Kelly was quite angry. He patted the grotesque shell affectionately. "And you can't put him in quarantine like an animal, either."

"And why not, if I may ask?"

"Because, sir, I am a poet, and accustomed to receiving the honors due that profession. I take exception to your remarks."

The inspector jumped several meters, almost into the arms of the policemen. "It talks!" he yawped. "Is it intelligent?"

"That's debatable," Torwald exclaimed. "Depends on how you feel about poets."

"What's the meaning of all this?" Whipple was almost tearing his hair out by the roots.

Ham decided a cooler head was necessary. Palms outstretched placatingly, he approached the distraught Whipple. "Now, now, calm down. You see, it's like this ..."

The last of the visitors were about to depart. For

two weeks, the
Space Angel
had been in a maximum-security dock in Earthport, her memory banks being examined by teams of State scientists. The crew had been subjected to endless interrogations until the authorities were satisfied that they had no more information to impart about their singular adventures.

Then the reporters and professors had arrived in endless numbers. Information about the
Space Angel's
voyage was spreading through human-occupied space, her crew had become instant celebrities.

Kelly had been delegated the job of giving a small group a tour of the ship, showing off such of their souvenirs as had not been impounded by the government. Among the group were a man in uniform with the comets of an admiral and an official from the huge Satsuma Line. The ship's boy felt a bit overwhelmed; not long before, he had been just another anonymous orphan scrounging a living in Earthport, his highest ambition
any
job on any ship. Now he had important men hanging on his every word, his face would be known wherever humans lived.

As he conducted them from the ship, several took him aside for a few private words.

"Son, have you ever considered a career in the Navy?" The admiral was doing his best to be paternal.

"Sure. But I never could get past the recruiters."

"Something could be arranged. A few months in a special school, and you could be a commissioned officer."

"I'm really not interested in a military career any more, sir." Kelly was slightly embarrassed.

"Decided to stay on in the merchant service, eh?" The Satsuma Line man thought he sensed an opening. "Good choice. We'd be glad to have you in the line. Good pay, regular promotion, regular hours. And, I don't mind telling you, your reputation would move you on up ahead of some other men with a bit more seniority."

Kelly eyed the man's stiff, starched uniform, laden with insignia of rank and accomplishment, and reflected that the line officer probably spent most of his time behind a desk.

"I hear Satsuma's a fine line to work for." Kelly was noncommital.

"Keep us in mind."

Last to disembark was a short, bearded man in frayed spacer's gear. A ratty cap with a tarnished medallion pinned to the front sat jauntily atop his disheveled mass of hair.