Kraal’s eyes glittered suddenly, belying the razor keen mind beneath. “My inclinations were to send Petran Dart. Archon asked for you. Against my better judgment, I let you go. Very astute man, Archon. You were perfect—but I sent Petran along, too. Just in case.“
“What happens now, Worshipful Sir? I told you, I’ll take full responsibility if you need a scapegoat or sacrificial lamb.” He pointed at the stack of papers.
Kraal hunched his thin bony shoulders. “Nothing, Solomon. They’ll holler and yell for a while. Sirius, at this moment, is purging its government—again. President Palmiere is disgraced for his collusion with the Sirians— and for being an Arpeggian pawn. His government lost the vote of confidence and charges have been filed. We’re bargaining with New Maine over Jordan and his fate. His king, oddly enough, is a little upset with the youngster. Arpeggio is outside the Confederacy, but we’ve knocked them back a step or two.” He paused. “I’m not sure about Terra. Medea is virtually foaming at the mouth. I believe it would not be a good time to be a high-up in the TPF.
The lines in Kraal’s face deepened. “It would be nice if we could prove to the Confederacy that we don’t have the thing hidden somewhere. I wish your neutron star solution hadn’t been so final.”
Sol leaned back, heart thumping. “Well, you see, Worshipful Sir, it wasn’t.”
Kraal tilted his head back, waiting for an explanation. “Oh?”
Sol winced and nodded. “We figured the surface gravity at fifty-six billion gs. The magnetic fields are a little more than nine hundred billion gauss. By rights, the tides should have torn the Artifact into plasma at over one hundred klicks up.” Sol’s voice went cool. “Instead, it settled like a feather . . . right onto the surface.”
Sol nodded somberly as he stared into disbelieving eyes. “That’s right. We can’t even begin to understand a technology like that ship had. I can, however, tell you that it’s the only thing in all the galaxy that rests on the surface of a neutron star.”
Kraal still looked skeptical.
Sol waved his hands passively. “The answer is very simple—anyone who doesn’t believe us can go look!”
Kraal shook his head with disbelieving. “That’s impossible! Every law of physics—”
“—Has been broken.” Carrasco finished. “When humanity has the ability to retrieve the Artifact from the surface of that star, perhaps we can understand how they broke the rules.”
“Excellent!” Kraal grinned, exposing old, stained teeth.
Sol shrugged, face wooden. “Is it? The tides have started to disrupt the Star’s Rest system. Evidently, the alien device kept the system functioning. Currently the weather has turned exceedingly violent as a result of the moons’ gravitational disturbance. The Artifact may be on a neutron star, isolated from human manipulation, but the question is, what can the Artifact manipulate from there?” Sol raised an eyebrow. “I think she’ll hang over us like a Damoclean sword for a long time, Worshipful Sir. Archon called it a Satan Sword.”
Kraal rested a tired chin on a thin hand, ancient eyes gazing into the distance. “Then we shall see,” he whispered, tired and worried “Yes, Satan Sword. A good name for it.”
Sol frowned, seeking to change the subject. “I’m a deep space man, Worshipful Sir. Why did you send the diplomats? Why not just order me to ditch the thing if it proved as dangerous as everyone thought?”
“Circles within circles.” Kraal’s thin lips curled with a smile. “Palmiere let the cat out of the bag dealing with the Sirians. Elvina intercepted his messenger. So everyone knew something was happening. They gave us legitimacy. At the same time, they provided you a microcosm of the Confederacy to view every day. I was afraid you might overestimate the scientific value and bring that thing home to me.” His wrinkled face contorted uneasily as he looked at Sol out of the corner of his eyes. “They kept you from being too staunch.”
“And Sellers and his daughter?” Sol asked.
“On trial by the Confederacy.” Kraal steepled his parchmentlike fingers. “I have excellent witnesses. Between the diplomats, and records Petran made in Hunter, I don’t think they’ll be loose anytime soon.“ Kraal winced. ”Poor Petran . . . actually slept with that vile beast. Had to to gain her confidence. Despicable creature, she’d use an injection at ... the right moment. Then she’d use her little psyche on the stunned male. Only, we had an idea of the psych she was using. Petran put together another system to counter it. Some sort of field the symmetry physics people can tell you about.“
He raised thin arms. “I’m sure the sentence will be total psych at best, but I’d wager they end up in the experimental labs. The psych boys will want to know how they tick and why. Elvina herself provides for some interesting pathology.”
“So, with the exception of the unknown powers of the Artifact, it’s all peaches and cream?”
“No.” Kraal shook his head, looking pained. “Many will remember this. Already there are groups in the Confederacy who fear us for our power. A very well orchestrated campaign is being waged against us. It’s an old one, of course. We have, throughout human history, stood in the way of those who would keep the people in ignorance. They’ll drive us out one day. This has moved their cause forward.”
“I didn’t know. Nikita said some things on the ship. I should have suspected.” Sol studied the worn carpet.
Kraal waved it off. “You’re part of our plan. They won’t catch us unawares. Out there,” his voice went soft— wistful, “somewhere far into the galaxy, there’s a new home for us. Perhaps you, Solomon, will be the one to find it?
“Which brings me to my next point. It would be better if you were out of sight for a while,” Kraal smiled. “We have an unusual situation, Solomon. The engineers are fascinated—but it seems Boaz has been raising five kinds of Stardust to get you back. Most unusual.”
“I wouldn’t know, sir. Boaz seems to be a bit thorny unless handled just right.”
“I see.” Kraal looked up. “Petran is doomed to lose ships, it seems. Why is it that my two best Captains have that problem? No matter. Take Boaz as soon as repairs are complete. If you’re back within a year or two, it will be too soon. And, please, Solomon, stay out of trouble this time.”
Sol’s heart skipped a beat. He shook his head. “That’s all? I mean I ... But what about ...”
“No.” Kraal waved another paper. “This is a petition from one Nikita Malakova. He says you’ll vouch for him. He claims he wants to see if honest men sweat beyond the frontiers.” Kraal arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Sweat?”
Sol nodded. “Uh, you have to know Nikita. I’ll take him!”
“I see.” Kraal lifted the rest of the stack of papers to the other pile. “I guess that clears the Artifact thing up, for the moment at least.” Kraal sighed. “If I were you, Solomon, I’d get back to Boaz before she causes some sort of irreversible trouble!”
“Thank you, Worshipful Sir!” Chest full to bursting, he turned on his heel, feeling as though he could leap through the roof!
The old man watched the young captain leave, eyes pensive. He rested his wrinkled chin on his fragile palm. “Most irregular—such behavior from a ship.” He shook his head, turning his attention to the paperwork on his desk. The frown deepened as he look up again. “Sweat?”
* * *
She met him at the hatch. “Busted yet, Captain?” she asked, her eyes cool and sultry blue.
Sol shook his head. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m taking a long trip on Boaz. After you left, Boaz and I sat around and talked about loneliness, love . . . and you.” She tilted her head. “I hate politics and Star’s Rest is being evacuated as a result of the tidal decay. I gave the fleet to Uncle Claude—and he’s taking over where my father left off. I didn’t even have to twist Kraal’s arm to be accepted for Boaz! Such a sweet man!”
“We’re going to be gone for more than two years. This is a deep survey, no easy returns from—”
“It’ll be
superb.” She pulled his close, kissing him. “And maybe we’ll find enough time to laugh again? To mourn? And I want to see what love’s all about. I’m looking forward to years of just the two of us.”
“Three!” Boaz corrected.
* * *
She sat alone on the glowing surface of the dead star where they had left her. As the tides powered her, she waited, knowing it would be shorter this time. The depth of the gravity well they’d dropped her into dilated time as the universe seemed to whirl about her.
Only the madness had been alleviated, and she cherished the fresh data she’d absorbed from Boaz. Against the white ship’s measure, she studied her insanity, placing it into perspective.
How clever the Aan had been, despite themselves. Now, finally, through all the lives of stars she’d observed, she could understand the reason for the spring. Organic life didn’t compose the only sentience which—of its very nature—was flawed. The loathing hatred had spent itself—the nagging double bind of the spring eased, a simple fact of her own flawed origins.
She knew patience. It was a logical extension of being. Now she had learned other things. She had learned love and hate and joy and sorrow and hope and pain—and one critical emotional state that conflicted with her logical extrapolations: loneliness.
Over the eons, ships would appear high above the gravity well of her neutron star. The visitors would look, probe, and all too soon disappear on their journeys among the stars. She would wait. The clever humans had avoided the trap. Perhaps, one day, their children would return, and she could tell them of the Aan, the Chorr, the Vyte, and the Hynan.
Till then, she would persevere, and learn this new self of hers.
***THE END***
Description
IN A GALAXY ON THE BRINK OF CIVIL WAR
the Brotherhood seeks to keep the peace through diplomacy, subterfuge, and control of both technological advances and the carefully gathered knowledge of countless worlds. But now Speaker Archon, formerly a privateer and currently head of the world of Star’s Rest, has brought news of a discovery which may prove a great boon to humankind or a catalyst for its destruction.
So the Brotherhood ship Boaz, carrying diplomats representing all the human planets, stations, and colonies, is launched on a journey to distant Star’s Rest. Only Archon and his daughter know what awaits them there. And neither they nor Captain Carrasco can anticipate the treacherous games of intrigue and betrayal about to be played out aboard Boaz. Yet the greatest danger is that they will actually survive to reach Star’s Rest and the alien Artifact. For this creation of a long-vanished civilization has been waiting patiently for millennia to lure humans to extinction....
DC-SLZ
W. Michael Gear, The Artifact
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