The ceiling was designed in small white ripples extending from one end of the room to the other with well concealed vitalites, illuminating and casting soft shadows from the surfaces below. The walls, which were a light blue in color matching the varying shades of blue throughout the room, seemed to move in various patterns as the vitalites reflected shimmering rays from their shiny surfaces. The walls of the room were concave in structure giving the room a quality of vastness as if a person was looking into the distance. Located in random positions throughout the room were form-fitting chairs designed for easy lounging. Their color was a lighter shade of blue than that of the walls. Next to the chairs, or perhaps an extension of them, were keyboards fixed for easy manipulation. They were simple in comparison to the high level keyboards of complex function and technical computers. Their only purpose was that of ordering various pleasures including a large range of viewing and reading media, food or drink, or music for listening. The floor was covered by deep blue El carpet creating a thick. spongy foundation, which made walking a source of relaxation. Indeed, the room had been designed for the VIP, with comfort as the primary objective.
Ben sat in one of the chairs sipping a drink and listening to ancient classical music of the three hundred and thirty second Federation century. In his mind he was going over the events which had led up to his present situation. If he had been granted the two thousand tal, it would have taken him months to locate the computer complex. As it was it had take the Galaef, with his large resource of manpower, only thirteen days.
Ben took another sip of his drink.
The complex had been located fifty feet beneath the planet surface. It rested like a babe in its womb. A large city, Newusa had, long since, been built over the top.
"There will be no complications," assured the Galaef, "in sinking the shafts."
Ben considered for a moment, then said, "If they have to go fifty feet, it'll probably take some time."
"It might for a normal construction crew," said the Galaef, "but with my crew and our technology it won't take more than three days." He paused. "And then we're in." It appeared the Galaef was excited about the find.
"Well then," said Ben, "this should yield artifacts which will tell us more about ancient Earth." He smiled at the thought that many of his colleagues would have to eat their words. His theory had brought about a discovery which no one believed existed, that is, with the exception of Mus, his 'partner in artifaction,' (as he liked to call her) and the Galaef. No matter what they found, now, there was enough, without a doubt, to keep the archaeologists and archaehistorians busy for years.
At that moment a red light began flashing over the distant doorway. A sign suddenly appeared on a large readout screen in bright red letters—an awkward contrast in the blue room.
Ben knew what it said without reading it. "Sixty seconds to the end of hyperspace," he muttered to himself. He had seen the sign many times in the past.
Mentally he began preparing himself for the feeling of nausea, which accompanied moving into or out of hyperspace. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but at least he wasn't among the many who had to take tranquilizers to keep from going into convulsions.
The sign flashed again, "fifty seconds to the end of hyperspace."
Most psychiatrists agreed that part of it was a subconscious fear that caused the convulsions. The other part was the momentary effect of weight loss on the fluid in the inner ear. The equilibrium didn't know which way was up or down.
"Forty seconds to the end of hyperspace."
But the subconscious fear had to do with the number of ships which collided with another ship or with an object in the path of the ship coming out of hyperspace. If another ship were in the outspace at the position that they were coming out of hyperspace, if the pilot's sensitivity acuteness were dulled for some reason, if he was not quick enough on the hyperspace switch, then the fatal explosion would occur killing everybody on board both ships, no exceptions.
"Thirty seconds to the end of hyperspace."
It was for this reason that young adults from around the empire were carefully computer chosen to become pilots. There is a certain quality of sensitivity needed to be a good pilot.
"Twenty seconds to the end of hyperspace."
If a pilot, using sound systems and direality screens, could detect that other ship, or any object in space, then he would be able to switch back into hyperspace without a mishap.
"Ten seconds to the end of hyperspace."
Ben slipped a little white disnausia pill out of a pocket in his body suit. He put it in his mouth and took a big slug of his drink.
The ship left hyperspace.
The feeling was upon him, like falling through space, spinning, reeling, turning. His stomach was floating. He wanted to gag, but couldn't.
A moment later it was over.
For passengers like Ben the feeling of nausea lasted only a few moments, but for the chronics it could last up to several hours.
He shifted his body in the chair finding a more comfortable position. He closed his eyes and let the music seep through the little bit of remaining nausea.
He wondered what Lyil was doing. She was probably at her desk working, getting ready for more Thorne interviews, which had become an inordinate amount lately. There were so many people from various planets coming to see Thorne, it was as if he were having a convention of Thorne supporters. Both Mandril and Lyil had expressed their concern, not only did it increase their workload considerably; it made them think that Thorne was up to something. Keeping it a mystery he never told anyone why all these people were showing up. And then there was the house in the Outer City occupied by people pretending to be Tarmorians, which had been linked to Thorne.
If it weren’t for all the failsafe systems guarding the Galaef to keep him from being dethroned, Ben would have believed that Thorne was going to attempt to take over the Galactic Federation. But that was unthinkable. Over the last one hundred thousand years voice recognition had been perfected, making it impossible for someone to duplicate another person’s voice, not even with a recording device. Among other failsafe systems, if someone were to take over as the ruler they would have to convince the computer that they were the Galaef and then . . . No, that wouldn’t work either. It was simply impossible.
Ben started thinking about Lyil again. When this expedition was finished, . . .
"Professor Hillar?"
Ben opened his eyes and looked up. He saw a beautiful brunette standing over him. She had the largest breasts on a slim, hard body that he had ever seen. He also noted the lieutenant's stripes on her sleeve.
"Yes?" he asked.
"My name is Lieutenant Largonese Reflen, but every since I was a little girl my family and friends have called me ‘Large—short for Largonese.’”
It seemed to Ben she was boasting. A most appropriate name and a damned huge coincidence, he thought, and then he said, “It’s nice to meet you, Large.”
A very pretty smile crossed her face. “I am here to escort you to the Galaef. If you would follow me, please."
"Thank-you," he said as he rose from his chair.
He followed her out of the guest lounge and down a long corridor. If the Galaef wanted to see him it probably meant he had more news from Ar concerning the find. Perhaps he wanted to discuss the means of excavation, or the time involved, which, in this case, is much shorter when you have a lot of manpower at your disposal.
The Galaef had organized the trip within three days after the discovery of the computer complex beneath the city of Newusa. His personal ship, the Commander which was always manned and prepared for action, had been alerted to make ready for the trip to Ar. The Commander was the largest ship in the Federation Armada. It was forty miles in diameter in the shape of a disc, and ten miles deep from top to bottom. It carried two hundred thousand men and women, and provided enough space in its hull for fifteen battleships, thirty full destroyers, five hundred short destroyers, two t
housand G15 destroyers, and twenty thousand shuttles (which were also life rafts). The ship, of course, could never land on a planet, and instead, was moored in space in an orbit mode. Supplies and passengers were loaded on and off the ship by means of supply ships.
Ben thought, During the three days it took to organize the trip to Ar it was possible they have completed the sinking of the shafts.
"Step this way, please," said the Lieutenant as a door slid open.
Ben stepped onto an etron transporter. The Lieutenant stepped on behind him and pushed a button. The transporter moved in an upward direction.
“Where is your home planet?" asked Ben.
"I don't have a home planet," she replied. "The Commander is my home."
"So you live here permanently?" Ben had heard of people living on spaceships.
"Yes. My husband and I both live here. It has been nearly eleven years since we came on board."
"It must be quite a different lifestyle from living on a planet." Ben thought for a moment and then asked, "Don't you ever feel closed in?"
"No," she replied, "we really don't. We love our home. We get a month vacation every year. And we spend it with our parents on their home planet, but it seems we are always happy to get back to our ship. We were computer chosen for the job. And having decided to accept it we have never been sorry."
"That's good," said Ben not too enthusiastically.
"We're saving money for our day of retirement, but until that day we have everything we could want right here."
It was true that the ship was like a small city built inside a mountain. It had thousands of corridors, all leading to rooms that would best fit the functioning of the ship. This, of course, included rooms of comfort and recreation, including restaurants, movie theatres, classical dance theatres, sports arenas, libraries and others for the ship's crew.
It was the part about being inside a mountain that didn't appeal to Ben. It was a bit too restrictive for his taste.
"By the way," said the Lieutenant, breaking his train of thought, "I've viewed your works on ancient Earth myths, and I think they are absolutely marvelous."
"Thank you," replied Ben.
"Myths are so interesting to view." Her eyes sparkled a little as she smiled. "It seems like only yesterday—I was a little girl and my mother was telling me about the myth of the Aeolian Master. 'He always did good for the people,' she said, 'and never any harm. But lo it was the evil of war that drove him from mankind.' After my mother told me of all his great adventures and his great deeds for the common people, he became my idol."
She continued to smile as she looked into Ben's eyes. "And now, after all these years, you're going to try to prove the myth to be a fact." She paused. "I hope you succeed."
The mover came to a slow stop, and after the door opened they started down another long corridor.
Ben was a little surprised by the Lieutenant's last statement. "I didn't realize that any of the crew knew the purpose of this trip," he said.
The corners of her mouth turned up in a foxy smile. "My husband's best friend works in communications," she replied.
Ben smiled with her. It amused him to think that classified information wasn't so classified on the Commander. "So, I imagine word gets around quickly," he said with an insidious look on his face.
"Oh yes. I'm sure that the entire crew knows about it by now."
"Has anything new come in?" He realized she might already know what the Galaef was about to tell him.
"Yes. A message came in right after we dropped out of hyperspace."
"Really?" asked Ben raising his eyebrows in an inquisitive manner. There was no doubt that he was probing for news, but the Lieutenant didn't seem to mind.
"Because of the political unrest in the city of Newusa, they would have rather sunk the shafts on the outside of the city's hemi dome, but because of the Toral, they couldn't."
She paused, and then said, "I think they should exterminate those beasts."
"But that would upset the balance of Nature," replied Ben voicing the concern of true scientists everywhere. “Nature has a difficult time on Ar without eliminating part of the system.”
Ben had used Lyil’s C-net to study the terrain and life forms on planet Ar. During his studies he came across a description of the toral. They were ferocious animals, and they would never hesitate to attack humans.
The Toral was a huge beast standing sometimes seven feet from the ground to the top of his head. He was a four-legged animal with a bobbed tail. His back legs were a foot shorter than his front legs. This gave him a sloping appearance and a loping run, which looked awkward, but indeed the Toral was very swift. His short fur was dull brown in color, all except his large white chest. His paws had long sharp claws and his mouth had long sharp teeth, two of which protruded from his upper jaw and curved slightly over his lower lip.
The Toral lived in small colonies, ten to fifteen to a group. The largest and most aggressive was always the leader of the pack. Oftentimes the leader was a female. She could growl the loudest and throw dirt into the air with her claws higher than the rest, and, when needed, she could give the nastiest bite.
At night, the Toral slept under the fruit trees, and during the day they roamed the boundaries of their marked territory. Once in awhile they would wander into the territory of another pride causing bloody battles, and sometimes three or four Toral would be killed before the fight ended.
Within the pack, the Toral were easy-going creatures, enjoying a laid back life. Seldom did they anger, and they enjoyed sleeping seventy percent of the time beneath the limbs of the fruit tree. It was only when they scented a human that they became outrageously ferocious.
From the literature Ben knew that the history of the Toral had a tremendous impact on the colonization of Ar. The animal was found living on all the plains on the surface of Ar, and for this reason the city people feared the plains, and they taught their children to fear them as well. Behind the city walls was safety, on the other side, was death.
"I suppose," said the Lieutenant answering Ben’s comment on Nature. "Anyway, they successfully sunk the shafts in the city park. They have domes covering them, and armed guards are posted on the entrances."
"Is the trouble that bad?"
"The rebels probably don't care about the shafts, but you know how curious other people can be. I'm sure they don't want to take any chances that anybody will disturb anything."
Ben nodded in agreement with her logic.
"What about the shafts?" he asked.
"They're both the same—they each contain a stairwell in case of an emergency, and they each contain an etron mover." She paused as if trying to remember. "They had to dig down about fifty feet before they reached the top of the computer complex. At that point they cut holes in the top and ended the shafts on the top floor.
“Now they're waiting for further orders."
The Lieutenant stopped in front of a door with two armed guards on either side. “He’s cleared to enter,” she said to the guards, and then to Ben, she said, "Right through here. I really wish you the best of luck." She turned and started back the way she had come. "Good-bye." She called over her shoulder.
“Yeah, Large,” muttered Ben. The door slid into its recess, and Ben started to enter when he noticed the guard on the right was the same guard he had talked to in the Center Tower before entering the Galaef’s private office. What did he say his name was? It was . . . . It was . . . . Oh, yeah, Frostadeem.
“Hello Frostadeem. Here we are again.”
The guard’s eyes met Ben’s, but he looked ahead and remained silent. There seemed to be a scowl on his face.
He must be having an off day, thought Ben as he passed the two guards and entered the room.
An Ensign looked up from behind a desk. "Professor Hillar?" she asked.
"Yes."
"You may go right in."
Ben stepped through the doorway on the far side of the
room and into the Galaef’s office, which was identical to his office in the Galactic Federation castle, with the exception of no window overlooking the Inner or Outer City. The Galaef was sitting in a chair behind a large desk. Again, readout screens and keyboards were to his immediate left and right.
Thorne was standing near the right wall. His shoulders were straight, his demeanor was one of indifference, and his eyes were cold, as they seemed to stare right through Ben's heart.
Jordan was sitting at a desk ten feet behind Thorne, and Mordrous was, again, to the Galaef’s left and five meters in front of him.
Myra was sitting to the Galaef's right. She was holding a recording device.
Ben looked at her and realized she was too beautiful and too magnetic to be real. She was like the reborn Phoenix—beautiful in all its splendor, but real only in mythology.
The Galaef turned as Ben came to a stop and said, “We have access to the computer complex," he gave Ben a hearty smile. "I have decided," he continued, "that instead of having yourself and a team of scientists searching for months, in that very large complex, it will be much more expedient for a large number of men to start at the top and work toward the bottom."
Ben frowned slightly, but almost as if the Galaef were reading his mind, he said, "However, for the sake of science, the men will be ordered to touch nothing except that which is necessary."
Ben nodded his approval.
As he watched the Galaef he noticed, through his peripheral vision, a look of contempt come over Thorne's face. It seemed to be directed toward the Galaef.
He wondered how he could be the only one to notice Thorne's attitude.
"They will be looking for two things, the power supply room and a man in a suspended animation chamber.
"I would like to know if you have any suggestions that may help in this search."
Ben considered the situation. "How many men will be searching?" he asked.
"Two thousand men will be shuttled to the complex. We have a systematic, computer-planned search that they'll be following.”
"Since you have that many men, I would start half of them searching from the top down and the other half from the bottom up. If there is a man in a suspended animation chamber, they probably placed him deep in the complex." He paused. "As far as the power supply room is concerned I could do no more than make a guess."
The Galaef looked pleased. "Thank you Professor. We'll let you know as soon as we find anything."
Assuming formality was still not a consideration, Ben turned and left without first bowing.
Chapter Sixteen