Flinx Transcendent Part 18

"I'll take that as encouraging. An idea about what, Flinx?"

"How to find the artifact-the Tar-Aiym weapons platform."

The older man frowned at him. "You've said from the time you left Nur months ago that you thought it would be impossible for you to track it in the vastness of the Blight. That you would have to embark on a random search pattern fueled by hope. It was the best any of us could expect from you."

Flinx reached up to stroke the back of Pip's neck. "And that's still the case. But while I don't think I I can locate the artifact, it has occurred to me that there's another who might be able to do so." can locate the artifact, it has occurred to me that there's another who might be able to do so."

The two scientists exchanged a glance. "You are the only individual who has been able to establish any kind of contact with the device," Truzenzuzex reminded him.

"No," Flinx insisted, "there's another."

"Who?" a startled Tse-Mallory demanded to know.

Flinx's lips creased in a thin smile. "It's not a who-it's a 'what.'"

"The boy plays mind games," Truzenzuzex muttered. "Explain yourself."

Flinx let his gaze shift from philosoph to soldier. "The original Tar-Aiym Krang. The one we found so long ago on the world called Booster, in the Blight. Remember, I activated it once."

"Indeed you did," admitted Tse-Mallory.

Flinx warmed to his proposal. "I'd be astounded if you two neglected to record the coordinates. If we can find Booster once more, and if I can make contact with the machine again, perhaps I can get across the need to contact the much bigger weapons platform. Maybe what it takes to locate one alien machine is another alien machine. All we need to get from the Krang is the platform's position and course."

Truzenzuzex looked thoughtful. "Use one weapon to locate the other. Why shouldn't weapons converse? A better prospect, certainly, than simply striking out blindly through empty s.p.a.ce." He eyed his companion. "Bran?"

"I wholeheartedly concur." Deep blue eyes regarded Flinx. "Your ship has been adequate for all your personal searching. I presume it can make the journey to Booster."

Flinx's smile widened. "To this day I still don't know all of the Teacher's Teacher's capabilities. The Ul ... its builders endowed it with all kinds of abilities I'm still learning about. I don't doubt for a minute that it can make the trip to Booster." capabilities. The Ul ... its builders endowed it with all kinds of abilities I'm still learning about. I don't doubt for a minute that it can make the trip to Booster."

"Excuse me," Sylzenzuzex put in, "but what is this 'Krang' you keep talking about?"

"An ancient artifact of the long-extinct race known as the Tar-Aiym," her Eighth informed her. "A legendary device that was rumored to be a great weapon-or a musical instrument." His antennae quivered as he remembered. "To our astonishment and edification, it turned out to be both." He gestured in Flinx's direction. "Our inimitable young friend here, who was considerably less mature at the time, possesses the only mind we know of that is capable of activating the alien mechanism. If all goes well we'll be seeing it again soon enough."

"Whatever happens, however this turns out, I don't care as long as we're together." Clarity abruptly let go of Flinx's arm. "You're not thinking of going off without me again again, are you?"

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "The idea had occurred to me."

Her expression tightened. "Then you won't have to worry about the Order of Null, because I'll kill you first!"

He held the mock-serious expression as long as he could before releasing it as laughter and sweeping her up in his arms. "Do you really think I'd leave you behind, after nearly losing you to those crazies twice? Of course you're coming with me."

Tse-Mallory nodded approvingly. "Tru and I will of course also accompany you, as was the intention prior to the a.s.sault at the shuttleport that resulted in the serious injuries suffered by Clarity. Earlier, you told Tru and me to be ready to leave Nur 'immediately' We are ready now. How soon can your ship be prepared for departure, Flinx?"

Still holding Clarity, he regarded his mentor. "I think we can leave tomorrow morning. Any additional provisioning or repair that needs to be carried out can be done at another world lying along the same approximate vector-safely away from local a.s.sa.s.sins."

"Then it is settled," Truzenzuzex declared with satisfaction.

"Not quite settled, syrrlnn syrrlnn."

Everyone's attention immediately shifted to Sylzenzuzex. She regarded them evenly. "I'm coming along also, you know."

Her Eighth turned to her. "No, we do not know that, shining sweet. It is no pleasure jaunt, no tourist outing, this dive into the dead worlds of the Blight. I already antic.i.p.ate enough things to worry about in the course of such a pa.s.sage."

"Rest a.s.sured I will not be among them." Arching high above her abdomen, her ovipositors vibrated tautly. "I am not the youthful padre-elect of years past, esteemed Eighth. I am a fully hardened operative working in Church Security. While my skills and abilities may not begin to approach yours, and differ greatly, they can only supplement and a.s.sist in this effort." Gleaming in the overhead light, her great compound eyes turned to Flinx. "Besides, the decision is not yours."

Unexpectedly finding himself caught between relations, Flinx hesitated. In the resulting stillness it was Clarity who spoke up.

"Myself, I don't see any reason why Syl shouldn't come with us. She's already shown herself to be a practiced truhand with a weapon. On a less functional note, I personally would like to have another female along for company."

Relieved to have been given an out, Flinx shrugged. "There's certainly enough room on the Teacher Teacher." He eyed the philosoph. "If anything were to happen to you, Tru, having another thranx along would be ..."

"I can take care of myself, thank you," his insectoid mentor responded stiffly. "Still, the vessel and the responsibility are yours. If you feel comfortable having yet another aboard, I will not object further. My personal feelings aside, Sylzenzuzex is no longer a sub-adult."

Reacting to this concession, Sylzenzuzex executed a gesture Flinx knew well. Her senior Eighth did not respond either verbally or with a gesticulation of his own. But Flinx knew that, at hearts, Truzenzuzex was not displeased. Quite the contrary. Though the crusty old philosoph would not admit to it, he was glad that his "niece" was coming with them.

Flinx knew this because his Talent allowed him to perceive it.

As with everything else on the paradise world of Nur, the exterior of the detention center located on the outskirts of a far commercial exurb was designed to soothe the eye and rea.s.sure the mind of any pa.s.sersby. Likewise, the interior was calculated to pacify and ease. Rather than to extract revenge, the intent was to heal and repair those with antisocial tendencies who had been committed to the facility's care. Penal care on New Riviera differed considerably from that practiced on, say, Visaria.

Notwithstanding its dedication to the rehabilitation of its inmates, the detention center was a modern and secure facility designed to keep those a.s.signed to it from interacting with the public outside the bounds of its smartly landscaped exterior. The una.s.suming guards carried weapons that would immobilize without killing. Though it presented many of the aspects and qualities of a convalescent retreat, the center's princ.i.p.al purpose remained as one with its earliest predecessor, the gaol that still stood on the south bank of an ancient Terran river called the Thames.

In accordance with and proportionate to their crimes and sentences, detainees had certain rights and privileges. Absolute freedom of movement was not among these. Those who claimed membership in the Order of Null and who had been committed to confinement until the Church order that bound them into custody could be reviewed were not allowed to stray outside carefully marked and fenced boundaries. The majority of the facility's inmates would have happily traded places with those belonging to the Order, knowing that the representatives of the newly arrived group were likely to be released uncharged within a day or two.

It was that same modest time frame, however, that was driving the Order members to distraction. Unless they could quickly regain their freedom to act, the main reason to do so would surely be on his way offworld.

No one imagined that the legal representative who came to converse with the speaker and the Elder would attempt to smuggle weapons into the facility itself. In addition to subjecting him to much more serious criminal prosecution, doing so would automatically and permanently void that individual's professional certification. What the designers of Nur's law enforcement system could not foresee was the utter dedication of the members of the Order of Null to their beliefs, and the fact that their legal agent might subscribe to them with as much fervor as those he sought to defend. The members of any organization dedicated to advancing death have little fear of prosecution, and are quite content to utilize the existing legal system to advance their own extremist ends.

So it was that the visiting counselor managed to slip a handful of shift weapons to half a dozen of his colleagues and lead them out of the facility as their unarmed brethren sacrificed themselves to delay pursuit and facilitate the flight of the seven. Considering how hastily the escape had been organized, it was carried off with considerable expertise. It was greatly aided by the fact that no police officer claiming even marginal insight into criminal behavior would have antic.i.p.ated a violent jailbreak by inmates incarcerated for only two or three days. Who in their right mind would chance being sentenced to a year's imprisonment or more in order to avoid a couple of harmless nights in stir?

Where authority failed was in a.s.suming that the members of the Order of Null were in their right mind.

While word went out from a dazed constabulary that six hitherto harmless-appearing short-term detainees and their legal defender had shot their way out of the detention facility, the escapees had utilized the counselor's skimmer to plunge deep into the heart of Sphene. Though the city was not a center of heavy industry, there were still commercial districts where those in flight could lose themselves. The escapees proceeded to do so, but only briefly. Having likely sacrificed a considerable amount of future freedom for the opportunity to act fleetingly now, they had no intention of wasting the little time that was available to them.

Their counselor had not acted alone. In addition to those who had helped him with the actual jailbreak, others were waiting attentively at the old warehouse that swallowed the skimmer.

Once safely inside and out of sight, the speaker, the Elder, and the other four high-ranking members of the Order who had fled the detention facility moved fast.

"You have something for us, I believe, Companion Delahare?"

The somewhat frumpy middle-aged woman the speaker queried had the look and demeanor of a contented homemaker whose days were filled with raising teenage progeny, swapping otherworld recipes with neighborhood friends, and ensuring the cleanliness and welcoming appearance of her household. In fact, she did all of this and more. Notable among the "more" was a penchant and a talent for working with explosives. The package she pa.s.sed to the speaker was barely big enough to hold a pair of shoes.

"I worked through the night and all through this morning, ever since the request came down through channels, and managed to put this together." Her voice indicated unmistakable pride in her accomplishment. She might as well have been discussing the preparing of a favorite recipe. In a manner of speaking, she was. "I hope it will fulfill the needs of the Order."

The speaker took the package gingerly. "Will it destroy a shuttlecraft?"

The woman was apologetic. "There was no time for moderation. It will destroy a good part of the entire shuttleport."

Neither the speaker nor the Elder standing nearby voiced any objection to the potential overkill. Why worry about collateral damage that might run into the hundreds or even the thousands when everyone and everything, blessed be the coming cleansing, was going to die anyway? Studying the package, the speaker knew that whoever delivered the device to its intended target would perish along with it. It would be an honor. Nothing mattered so long as it put paid to the one potential threat to the coming Purity. Like his cohorts, he had no fear of death.

"I will come, too," the Elder informed him solemnly, "as long as I can keep up."

"My overweight will cancel the effects of your age, honored sir." The speaker smiled. The Order's objective was n.o.ble, and he had always been ready to perish on behalf of the n.o.ble cause.

No one objected when the counselor who had arranged their escape chose to remain behind. It was necessary that he survive so that his skills could be utilized in the future. Though with the one called Flinx eradicated, the Order would be able to relax, melt back into the smug, self-satisfied culture of New Riviera, and placidly await the coming destruction. The speaker was mildly disappointed that he would not have the opportunity to partic.i.p.ate in that forthcoming repose. But what did it matter, when martyrdom awaited?

As for the many innocents who would perish at the shuttleport when the package performed its own humble, localized cleansing, they would simply die a little sooner than otherwise. In the eyes of the Order, time was nothing more than a variant that served at its whim.

No police vehicle shadowed the counselor's skimmer as it rose from the warehouse exit and headed for the city's main shuttleport. No official craft fell in behind as it wended its way cautiously between as many shielding structures as possible. The skimmer arrived at the shuttleport undetected.

The most dangerous time was behind them now, a thankful Elder pointed out to the attending acolytes. If their colleague's work was as scrupulous as she had claimed, their lingering irritant would be removed very soon indeed.

One of their number politely queried a port worker, who proceeded to check the register she carried with her. Yes, a shuttlecraft of the type described was parked on the tarmac and had been for a number of days. Monitors in its vicinity had recorded little or no activity since its arrival. It was registered as private transport. Might there be an image or physical description of the owner/operator? the Order member inquired courteously. It was a matter of some urgency. Much was at stake.

The worker apologetically avowed that she could not give out such information to those who were not cleared to receive it. Closing in discreetly around her, two of the other escapees resolved the standoff by wrenching the register from her hand. When she objected and tried to take it back, one of them quietly shot her in the back.

A minute's work with the register was sufficient to tell them everything they needed to know. By the time Port Security was made aware that a murder had been committed within its jurisdiction, the group of six was already hurrying down the appropriate corridor.

Since the pedestrian pa.s.sageway accessed that portion of the port tarmac that served private craft, security was minimal. Having partic.i.p.ated in a ferocious firefight in a similar corridor many months ago, the Elder and the speaker each experienced a profound sense of deja vu as they huffed and puffed to keep up with their a.s.sociates. Unlike on that previous occasion, this time there was no skillful senior soldier to surprise him and his colleagues, no many-limbed thranx to unleash multiple hand weapons in their direction.

This time there would be no mistake, even if their talented bomb maker had overstated the explosive potential of the contents of the package being carried by the Order's speaker. If their quarry was already aboard his shuttle, they would set it off beneath the craft, or close enough nearby. If he had not yet arrived at the port, they would conceal themselves close to his craft and wait. If Port Security interfered, several of their number would stage a noisy diversion. He, for one, would readily partic.i.p.ate in any attack necessary to divert attention from whoever took final possession of the cleansing package.

"We're here!" the man who had shot the unsuspecting port worker announced.

Designed to handle small cargo as well as pa.s.sengers, the lift carried the six of them from the depths of the subterranean corridor up to the surface. Stepping out onto the tarmac and into the warm, pleasant sunshine of New Riviera, the Elder looked to his right toward the nearest shuttle. Somewhere below, armed security teams were now racing down the corridor in pursuit of those who had violated and murdered. From different directions a pair of Port Security skimmers could be seen speeding toward the line of parked shuttles. Several other shuttlecraft, whose origin and ownership were of no consequence, gleamed nearby.

The pad where, according to the stolen port register, the shuttle belonging to the young man known as Philip Lynx had been parked was now empty.

As the others drew their weapons and crowded in behind him, an increasingly agitated speaker turned to the Elder for advice. "It's not here!" He looked around wildly. "Could we have taken the wrong access corridor?"

The man holding the stolen register performed a hurried recheck. "No, not a chance. PA-Fourteen-this is the right place!" He turned a hasty circle. "It should be here." here."

The two approaching security craft were slowing, dropping surface-ward as they neared the place where the Order members had emerged from the belowground service corridor. Confused, angry, and resigned, the speaker fondled the lethal package. Three contact switches protruded from the bottom and a fourth from the top. His fingers hovered in the vicinity of the underside.

"Honored Elder, should I proceed with ... ?"

"No." The Elder's decision was firm. "Our lives may be needed yet. Put the device down." Turning, he regarded his loyal colleagues. "All of you, set your weapons aside. Dying is inevitable, but it should not be wasteful."

"But what of the anomaly, the one who would try to interfere?" one of the others wondered dejectedly. "What went wrong? How did we come to the wrong place?"

"We did not come to the wrong place." After the marathon run through the access corridor the Elder was feeling the full weight of his years. His weariness was compounded by failure. "Despite our haste, despite our best efforts, it appears that we just got here a little late."

Turning away from them he tilted his head back. Using one hand to shield his eyes from the bright afternoon sun he gazed skyward. The telltale trail of a shuttle heading h.e.l.l-bent for the Rim of s.p.a.ce drew his full attention. It might be the shuttlecraft belonging to the anomaly, or the young man's craft might have departed even earlier. It did not really matter. Not now. The fading track was a marker that mocked their best efforts.

Weapons drawn and leveled, Port Security was closing in around him and his a.s.sociates. If he gave the word, the speaker would trigger the package and obliterate them all, members of the Order and security personnel alike. While undeniably dramatic, such a gesture would be useless, futile, and worst of all would focus attention on the surviving members of the Order. That would be counterproductive, the Elder recognized. If nothing else, a peaceful surrender might at least preserve some anonymity and deflect attention from those who would remain free to continue the necessary work.

Moments later, as he was being placed in restraints, he reflected that his life would soon be over anyway, albeit long before the coming cleansing arrived from the far reaches of the intergalactic void. His only regret was that he was not going to live long enough to experience that great day. That gratification would be bequeathed to others. The Order would go on, until its watchfulness was no longer needed. As he and his colleagues were taken away he consoled himself with the knowledge that the efforts to eliminate the singular impeder were probably unnecessary anyway. Nothing could stop, or slow, or hinder the inexorable arrival of the Purity. Nothing!

It bothered him, though, that he could not stop himself from occasionally glancing skyward in the direction taken by the recently departed shuttlecraft.

"It's a beautiful world."

Clarity expressed her feelings as the shuttlecraft began the long drop surfaceward. Her reaction upon glimpsing the view on the shuttle's monitor was identical to Flinx's upon his first sight of Booster so many years ago.

"It is." Reaching over from the pilot's drop seat, he took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Mostly ocean, and the one big continent where we're headed. A nice place to live-if you're a Tar-Aiym. They're built a lot heavier and more solid than we are."

She glanced over at him. "It looks inviting on the readouts. A lot of free helium in the atmosphere, but otherwise perfectly breathable. What's wrong with it?"

From the seat behind her Tse-Mallory offered an explanation. "It's just a bit breezy," he told her.

"When Bran and Tru and I were here before," Flinx explained further, "we had to locate the Krang from orbit. Now that we know its location I'm going to try and set down close enough so that we can reach it by skimmer, instead of having to use a heavy land vehicle. Which is important, because the Teacher Teacher doesn't carry a crawler." doesn't carry a crawler."

"I'm sure there'll be no-oh!" She let out a short gasp as the shuttle rocked violently and her lounge protectively locked her down.

"Breezy," Tse-Mallory quipped from behind her.

Though he was not nearly as good a pilot as Atha Moon, who had managed the first humanx landing on Booster, Flinx's shuttle had the advantage of more advanced electronics. As they pa.s.sed through the upper jet streams the ride smoothed out, the ship's systems compensating for the incessant winds. The rest of the descent held steady enough so that, when the concentric crescents of the ancient city below finally came into view, Clarity and Sylzenzuzex felt safe in leaving their seats to enjoy the nonelectronic view out the main port.

Immediately, they found themselves drawn to the towering, dull yellow-white, rectangular pyramid that soared skyward from a bluff near the center of the city. It dominated everything, natural and artificial, as far as could be seen in any direction.

"Is that it?" Clarity's tone was subdued. "The Krang?"

Though the shuttle was more or less flying itself, Flinx kept his attention on the instrumentation in case his input was needed. "Three kilometers high and each side at the base is more than a kilometer. Five hundred million years old, give or take a few million. And when we were here before, we never did really figure out what it was made of. We do know it contains a lot of incredibly dense, unidentifiable ceramic alloy."

Standing alongside Clarity, Sylzenzuzex clicked in symbospeech. "That's the tallest artificial structure I have ever seen. I don't think there is anything like it even on human worlds-and your people adore tall buildings."

"I a.s.sure you, dear Syl," Truzenzuzex clicked, "that its height, sili!!ppk sili!!ppk, is the least of its extraordinary characteristics."

Pa.s.sing swiftly over the remnants of what must have been a s.p.a.ceport of immense size, the little shuttlecraft set down cleanly at the base of the bluff dominated by the tower of the Krang. The airstream outside read thirty-four kph. On either side of the shielding bluff it rose to a steady hundred and twenty, with gusts as high as two hundred. Even that const.i.tuted nothing more than a stiff breeze compared to the shocking gales that ripped around the planet's equator.

Prior to disembarking, Flinx made sure that Clarity donned a pair of protective goggles. Tse-Mallory had his own, and Tru looked after his young relative Sylzenzuzex. Collecting daypacks filled with basic supplies, they filed through the Teacher Teacher and into the skimmer waiting in the holding bay. and into the skimmer waiting in the holding bay.

Following the irregular layers and ledges the ceaseless wind had cut into the bluff, they rode the skimmer up to the base of the Krang. Sheltered in the lee of the ma.s.sive structure, they set down directly in front of a vitreous, dull gray, thirty-meter-high metal door.

An all-too-familiar dull pounding had started up at the back of Flinx's skull. Not now Not now, he cursed himself. Not here. But there was nothing he could do about it except try to rest-and he had no intention of resting here and now.

Clarity was staring out the front of the skimmer's transparent dome at the gargantuan doorway. "How do you get inside? How did you open it the last time?"

The throbbing at the back of his head kept Flinx from smiling. "We didn't. It sensed us and opened for ... there it goes now!"

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when the two halves of the colossal portal began to part in front of them. If the doorway had not opened of its own accord, he and his companions would have been obliged to try to find an alternate means of entry. Forcing their way into the Krang was not a prospect he would have looked forward to with delight.

He was worrying needlessly. They were in.

Rising, they moved cautiously through the portal. Once they were inside, the twenty-meter-thick metal barrier commenced to slide silently shut behind them. Clarity looked uneasily at Flinx. When he did not react to the blocking of their exit, she quite rightly a.s.sumed the action had been antic.i.p.ated. Returning her attention forward, she got her first view of the interior of the Krang-and sucked in her breath sharply. Resting nearby on all six legs, Sylzenzuzex let out a long, low whistle.