The Adventures of Deacon Coombs (22 page)

“You there,” the officer said, hailing Deacon. “The life forms on this ship seem to be more than the allotment approved. We will look around.” The officer glanced past Deacon. “Hey! Yes, you there!”

Deacon turned to find the old man who had brought the discs on board lingering, bent over in a corner, perhaps hiding. Was this Travers in disguise? Was the plan about to crumble?

“Be off with you. Now! Off this ship! Here is the discrepancy.”

The elder Aralian cast a familiar glance at Deacon on the way out. The twinkle in his eye reminded him of Chubby. The guards escorted him off while Jim sealed the hatch. Gem warned Quobit and Deacon, saying, “Secure yourselves; it will be an uncomfortable ride out to the Vesper station with turbulent winds in the stratosphere abounding. The Vesper station we travel to is situated beyond the atmosphere.”

Into deepest space

Deacon sat at his usual vigil in the middle seat, staring at the screen that captured the outside images. From here he could also rotate the view through 360 degrees to see what was in front of them and what was behind.

“I spoke to Jim earlier. We will be guided out through the turbulence by the automatic pilot, which is the best chance to minimize the bumpiness. The technology for compensation on this ship is the best technology of the Jabu providers.”

Deacon replied to Quobit. “I read that most of the Vesper technology is manufactured on either Aralia or Jabu.”

“Yes. There is a very healthy competition between the two planets for sales.”

“I apologize that these seats were not designed for Jabu travelers.”

Quobit’s legs stretched out in front of her as she jostled to find a comfortable position. “Gem has informed me that at our first stop, this seat will be repositioned and designed for my massiveness.”

They were momentarily jostled as the ship furtively moved out of port. Deacon rotated the viewing screen to scan the screen for any signs of Travers on the docks they had just left. Then there was a roar and the
Heritage
inclined and soared upward steeply. Dark clouds lay ahead. The tiny vehicle oscillated in the severe turbulence as Deacon gripped the armrests tightly. From the level below, he overheard Jim and Gem deep in banter as the capsule ascended ever upward to free her of the gravity field of Aralia. A voice called his name. Turning in his seat and looking over his shoulder, he saw the uniformed guard who had accompanied the officer onto the ship looking for the weight discrepancy. He removed the uniform first, and then the wig, revealing the thin, distinguished profile of Travers. “Villya, I s-s-s-s… still think the ship has eck… eckstra weight, don’t you?”

Deacon lunged out of his seat and held Travers by the arm, positioning him beside him, laughing. “You crafty one.”

“The best way to execute a du-du-du… diversion is to be one.”

Gem appeared at the entrance of the deck. Deacon felt the cold, steely stare as Gem stoically said, “Villya, Travers.” Travers turned and nodded.

“Master, Quobit, Travers, for your safety, please ensure that you remain seated until we have reached the station. We are about to travel through the worst part of the storm.” There was a frosty interlude, and then Gem departed.

“Travers,” said Deacon, “I would like to introduce Quobit of Jabu to you. She travels with us in secrecy, like yourself.”

Quobit confirmed their earlier introductions. “I knew that he was on board and hiding; I witnessed him cagily divert the other officers.”

The impact of the severe section of the storm heaved the tiny craft, but the autopilot made instantaneous corrections and the craft turned and sped upward. As they cleared seventy thousand feet, billions of stars suddenly shone back against an ebony background, bold yellow suns of other worlds, beckoning explorers.

“Which way is Nix?” asked Deacon.

Travers waved his crooked index finger to an area to the left but to nowhere in particular. Deacon fixed his stare on the quadrant. Suddenly the Vesper station drew closer.

“According to plan, we Vesper to a v-v-v-v-v… very remote mining colony. From there, we clear to t-t-t-t-t… travel a frequented path by the m-m-m-m… miners and traders to desolate mining asteroids where we then v-v-v… veer into a passage to Nix.”

On the lower deck, Gem administered the appropriate codes to relieve them of scrutiny by Owler patrols, while Jim set their path. All the threesome had to do was sit and relax, admire the view, and converse with one another, which they did until the point at which they Vespered.

The Vespering produced the usual anxiety attack in Deacon as Travers tried to relieve the fit by reciting numerous anecdotes of his Vespering experiences. Suddenly, the ship was a faint outline. Then all was dark as gremlins chased Deacon around Moonbeam. Miram grew to the size of the mansion to scare them away. In a haze in front of him, a shapeless being materialized.

Quobit tugged at him. When he opened his eyes, the hot, fiery world of Thous, a colorful volcanic planet, was on the monitor. Sulfur plumes rose into the yellow-clouded skies, while fluorescent lava flows dotted the landscape and bubbling red calderas spewed new lava to the surface. The Vesper station was distant enough to avoid ill effects from the plumes and heat from the eruptions on the uninhabited planet.

Just as Deacon captured a still shot of the dynamic surface, the
Heritage
rotated, leaving Thous and the last Vesper station behind. The thrusters activated at maximum power as the craft accelerated smoothly into blackness. After an hour the sky became aglow as they navigated into a patch of stars ahead. Now individual stars fled by them as flashes of yellow, red, purple, and white, all in an instant passage of time as Deacon was held rigid in his seat by Travers’s commentary. This continued for many hours until a sharp maneuver by which the
Heritage
steered into the forbidden zone.

Thin webs of dust clouds came into sight, stretched light-years across the scene. Momentary bolts of red, blue, and yellow pierced the clouds. These were the punishing ion and cosmic storms that prevented this sector from ever knowing a day’s peace, ever experiencing a moment’s silence. Electrical activity saturated the skies as a multitude of charged clouds came perilously close. Deacon sat mesmerized. He might be the first Earthman ever to see this electrifying sight. Or had Morris Mydloan also ventured this way? Reality hit. He might be the last to view this sight. Exhilaration permeated his body as he sat on the edge of his seat, the ship now twisting and turning amid the myriad clouds.

“Never in my dreams did I ever think I would be accompanying the great Deacon Coombs, or witnessing this incredible sight ahead,” said Quobit.

“Quobit, look at those space cloud formations swirling in funnels in the lower left quadrant, riddled by the endless furies of energy.”

“Time is a passage of electrical conflicts here. Observe, Deacon, almost straight ahead, those blazing bulbs of crimson firing sheet lightning every second.” A turn was in order, and the
Heritage
fled to the perimeter of this activity. Billions of distant stars dotted the heavens in clusters. They were shaped in arms, such as those of spiral galaxies.

The ship veered, this time hard to avoid a rapidly approaching turbulent area. Flashes set the deck ablaze in a throbbing teal turmoil. So engrossed in the sights had they been for hours, that Deacon had not fully heard Travers reciting his other adventures in this sector as the Aralian ranted on endlessly, reveling in past glories. Now it became apparent that they were ominously steering into a disturbing blind spot, a blackness of foreboding somberness.

“We are pointed to the ed-d… dge of the Mil… k-k-k-k-ky Way.”

Deacon saw black patches dotting the sky between strips of twinkling linear mass. Gem ascended to remind them of their need for rest, so Deacon made himself comfortable in his recliner, Quobit lay outstretched on the floor in the corner, and Travers retired to sleeping quarters. Deacon momentarily followed him into the room. He noticed the brown stain on Travers’s right hand.

“I have carried a p-p-p… passion for Earth’s tobacco since my initial tri… p-p-p to Earth.”

Deacon initiated a sudden change of topic. “Why did you and Maretz take the
Sleigher
to Nix?” Travers remained silent, so Deacon stated his case. “There is no power great enough to bend Vesper beams, and if there is, then you and I and all Alliance forces will bow to such evil creatures and be dead and conquered. We would be hopeless against such a force. The most believable scenario is that you purposely bribed the engineers at Jabu, specifically Maretz, whom Gem discovered is an acquaintance of yours. Quobit confirmed for me her facts about the
Sleigher
’s Vesper. She was on duty the day of the mishap. I think you took the
Sleigher
to the Vesper station we just passed, and from there you proceeded down this exact same path—the cold, calculated path to Nix, the same path to Nix we follow. Why? It was planned and executed by you and Maretz with obvious help from an engineer here at that last Vesper station.”

“How c-c-c… can you be so sure?”

“I researched Vespering in the library on Earth. My background in physics allowed me to comprehend the mechanics of Vespering. As I just stated, either aliens beyond our control took you there or you took yourselves there deceitfully. Also, I felt this astonishing thought in your mind recently back in the caves of Glagn. You briefly betrayed yourself. I am so sorry to invade your privacy, Travers, but it was one of those moments when you reached out to me. Your trip to Nix was no coincidence. I think that you navigated the
Sleigher
to Nix to search for the missing arms shipments as a desperate measure to clear your name and defend the integrity of the traders. Add to that your association with Maretz, and I believe the trip to Nix not a coincidence.”

“I feel w-w-w… weak. I will sleep.”

“Please talk to me, Travers. Why did you take the
Sleigher
to Nix? What did you discover there? Whatever it was, the force weakened you, created the slur you now have, and took the lives away from your crew. You know something terrifying that I don’t.”

His bent legs unfurled and he lay down, turning away from Deacon, who read the sign to retreat. Deacon slept uneasily; every time he turned around to peer at Travers in the adjacent room, Travers’s gaze was eerily fixed on him. From where he sat, he probed into Travers’s mind with no success.

The facts to date were perplexing and kept him awake. There were some strange blemishes on the High Council. But in his research on Earth, he noted that the birth date of Brebouillis was very curious. Very peculiar indeed.

Gem suddenly appeared again. “Please, Master, I insist on rest for you.”

Deacon’s eyes remained riveted on the dazzling sight before him. Black patches spotted the thinly dispersed stars. This was the area of immense dust clouds that he had written a paper on in astronomy class, and now he was to actually enter this zone. Clouds reaching millions of miles in diameter wreaked havoc with the instruments because of their immense and far-reaching magnetic effects. Many a ship had become engulfed by these monsters in the earliest days of exploring before newer and safer routes between solar systems were established. Somewhere in this unnavigable maze was the famous graveyard of trade ships rendered helpless by these storms; somewhere in here was the mysterious planet of Nix.

Arrival

Upon awakening, Deacon was not sure how long he had slept, but he knew that he felt revitalized. Travers was neither in his room nor on his deck; nor was Quobit. The screen looked the same as before as the
Heritage
carefully serpentined though the monotonous, deadly cloud formations. Straight ahead were large, ominous black spots perforated with vicious, twisted lightning. He wobbled around the deck three times to loosen up; performed twenty fast-paced sit-ups, twenty deep knee bends, and fifty jumping jacks; and then, out of breath, descended to the control level, where he found Gem, Jim, Quobit, and Travers poring over computer-generated 3-D screen images on which they plotted their path. “We are much closer to Nix than we had calculated. Perhaps only sixteen hours at top speed,” Gem said.

Jim rose to insert a protrusion from his body into the computer controls. A small, narrow tube that danced around and gyrated connected the two machines. Jim blurted out coordinates to Travers, who was now busy shaping a new three-dimensional laser grid suspended in midair over the table, while Quobit gasped in amazement. Deacon felt helpless to assist as he admired the interaction, so he sank to sit on the stairs.

Gem turned to him and said, “You slept fifteen Earth hours, Master.” No wonder he felt so revived.

“I overslept too,” said Quobit, “sleeping for eight of your hours rather than five.”

Deacon watched the chemistry between Jim and Travers as Gem delivered a hot drink and an energy bar to him. Jim commenced to flash numbers on a screen situated in his torso area. Travers digested Jim’s data and then maneuvered the three-dimensional grid and began to bark new coordinates to Gem, who steered the
Heritage
onto a new path. The interaction of the Owlers and Travers was warming to Deacon’s heart.
Maybe
this
is
the
event
to
win
the
Owlers
over
, he thought.

Piece by piece, Travers constructed a new holographic grid of their current air space, suspending it in air over the table. As Travers held a device on which his fingers bounced without rest for minutes, Deacon realized that Travers was entering and calculating information as quickly as the computer could. A terrible pang hit his head.
Has
Travers
the
ability
to
have
reprogrammed
the
Owlers
while
I
slept?