Into the Sea of Stars (17 page)

He looked over at the hulk again.

" 'Let
us fly these troubled waters, Ahab, let us come h
ard about.' "

He turned back to them with imploring eyes.

" 'For
I alone have lived to tell thee this tale.' Please, for God sake, take me away from here."

Elijah looked at Ian slyly and reached into his pocket.

"In payment Ian, in payment I'll give you this and yet
another legend to pursue. But it's our secret." And so
saying, he gave a paranoid look at Richard. "Only one,
there's only one and I can't share."

Ian hesitated for a moment, fearful of some horror, but
Richard came up to
lan's
side and whispered.

"It's all right, it means he trusts you, if it's a piece of meat just pocket it, thank him, and leave. It's a bonding
gift."

Richard smiled at Ian, nodded at Elijah, and floated
out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. Ian smiled
uncomfortably at Elijah and cleared his throat. If this is a piece of meat, Ian thought, I'll get sick, I know it, and
he braced himself.

Elijah drew out his hand and opened it. A slender metal
rod six inches long and the diameter of a straw floated
up. A small blue button jutted from one end. The strange
shimmer to the metal caught
lan's
eye and he drew closer. It could have been a swizzle stick from Richard's drinking
kit.

"What the hell
?...
"

"It scared the hell out of me," Elijah said softly.

"What?"

"The thing that owned that rod."

"What thing?" Ian suddenly noticed his heart was rac
ing.

"The thing."

Ian gulped. "Do you mean an alien?"

He snatched the rod out of the air and nervously ex
amined it. It was cool to the touch and a minuscule flowing
script curled around the length of the shaft. He had never
seen such writing before and with that realization his hands
started to shake.

"How did you get this?"

"Promise you won't tell
,
the others might get mad at me, 'cause I didn't save any. You're the leader so I have
to tell you but not the others." There was a pleading whine
to his voice.

Ian nodded in agreement, not really paying attention to the words, as if he was listening to the fearful chatter of a little child.

"All right then." Elijah drew closer.

"It knocked on my door, it did. Honest, I heard a knock
on the airlock. I looked out the window and there it was, a ship docked to mine. So I popped the door and, sweet
holy of holies." His voice rose to a near shriek and Ian
had to reach out to calm him down.

"What was it like?" Ian begged.

Elijah looked at him and smiled.

"Lucky I had some garlic and artificial butter," he whispered.

"Oh, no.
You didn't..."

"He sure did look like a giant snail to me. Tell me, Ian,
have you ever had a hundred-kilo escargot?"

"By heavens, Ian, he's sick."

Ian looked across at Ellen and nodded in affirmation.
"But that's not the question we're dealing with, Ellen."

"I don't give a good god damn what you think we're
dealing with, I think we should put him under sedation,
turn about, and head for home. And another thing, we
should let the Exploration Board come back out here and
figure out what the hell is going on with this Father, or whatever it is those people over there are worshiping."
Ellen waved her hand off in the direction of Delta Sag.

"First off, I'm not going to sedate Elijah as long as his
behavior is reasonable."

"Reasonable, my ass, that madman came up to me and asked if we had any fresh meat. He even pinched my leg.
Good Lord, Ian, he gives me the creeps."

"Reasonable, my ass," Richard whispered sotto voce
to
Stasz
. "I'd like to see him take a bite out of her buns, she might enjoy it."

"Shut up, pig! Remember I saved your butt from the
IFF."

"And I remember in some detail what yours looked
like.
Stasz
, you should have seen it, a little heavy perhaps,
but still worth a—"

."Shut up, all of you," Ian shouted. "We've got to make
a decision, damn it!"

"Look, Ian," Ellen interjected, "this was originally
conceived of as a way for the Chancellor to get rid of
some nonconformist or incompetent faculty members."

"Yes indeed," Richard interrupted. "But do speak for
yourself, Ellen dearest, when deciding which of the two."

"Give her a chance, will you?" Ian replied, amazed at
himself for defending Ellen against Richard's barbs.

Choosing to ignore his comments, she continued.

"I was also going to say that this is an academic mis
sion. We were to establish contact if possible with one or
more colonies and find out what happened. Look, Ian,
we can't even gather any more data. Our memory banks
are crammed to
capacity,
to enter even one more item
requires us to dump something else. There's enough data
in there to keep our respective professions busy for the
next century. Ian, we can go back home, we can go back
as heroes, and screw the Chancellor."

Ian shot Richard a glance to suppress the obvious re
tort.

"I know you want to get back home, too," Ian said,
looking at Richard.

Richard merely shook his head and smiled. "I want to
see how this argument turns out."

"And you,
Stasz
?"

"They've got beam weapons—look what they did to
that out there." He pointed at the wreckage that drifted just outside their forward
viewport
.

"So that means you'd prefer to turn back?"

"Look, Ian, it's been run. I've racked up six months
of
translight
time. By the time we get back, I figure I can
take standard retirement plus ten percent. Do you think
I want to blow my retirement checks just to go visit the
followers of a crazy man dead for the last thousand years?"

"But your curiosity is there, isn't it?"

Stasz
shifted uncomfortably, so that he floated out of his couch. "Don't ruin the image of indifference that I've
tried to cultivate."

"And, Richard, what do you have to say?" Ian asked,
turning away from
Stasz
.

"The arguments for turning back are obvious. Smith's
people are armed and have twice proven their madness. Confrontation with them is something I think is totally
beyond our capacity. We already have a valuable cargo
of data, which I think should take precedence at this stage
of the mission."

Ellen gave an audible sigh of relief.

"But..." It was Richard who was prompting.

"Yes,
the but
," Ian replied. "There're two buts here.
We can go back home and turn over this investigation to
the bureaucracy. I want you to think about that. Think
about our beloved Chancellor. For that matter, think about
most any bureaucrat you've ever known. When presented
with a problem like this, what will they do? For that matter, what does any bureaucrat excel at?"

"They'll screw it up,"
Stasz
replied.

"That's my point," Ian said softly. "Out toward Delta
Sag there is one hell of a mystery, and I fear what someone
like the Chancellor and his kind would do to that situation.
I'd rather have a group of half-assed intellectuals like
ourselves
in the driver's seat. And this might sound strange
coming from old Ian
Lacklin
, but damn me, I'm just plain
curious. This journey has scared me from day one. It's
still scaring me, but I guess I'm getting used to it. We've
come this far, I think it's worth the risk to take the final
step. The historian in me is dying to know just what really
happened to Franklin Smith's people."

"Let's hope you don't die finding out,"
Stasz
replied.

The others fell silent; Ian nodded to each and floated
out of the room to his small retreat in the aft storage area. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the rod that Elijah
had given him. He couldn't tell any of them the real reason
that he wanted the expedition to continue, at least not
yet.

Even more than finding out about Smith, he now wanted
to find out about the alien who came for dinner. If one alien was in the area, there might be another. Ian only hoped that he found them before Smith did. Elijah had been unable to enter the alien's ship, which apparently
disappeared while its pilot was becoming dinner for one. Ian thought it might have been launched by a dead-man
switch hidden in the alien's equipment or by a timing circuit in the autopilot. The only thing to survive their
first encounter was the small cylinder Elijah said had been
carried in a metal holster on the alien's carapace. Ian didn't want to consider the possible consequences of
Smith's people having the first contact with another civ
ilization. First contact, that is, if one didn't consider Eli
jah. But how would Smith react to the visitors from Earth?
... Ian again examined the strange artifact in his hand. It
did look somewhat like a swizzle stick with a blue button on top, but he had yet to work up the nerve to press down
on that button. Considering where they would be in a
matter of hours, he suddenly realized that the only evi
dence of intelligent nonhuman civilization should be safely
stored away. And he knew the perfect place. While the arguments continued up forward, he poked around in
Richard's affects and placed the object in his comrade's
portable drinking kit. The artifact fitted in like it had been
made to match.

"Ready for
translight
,"
Stasz
called.

"'And who will turn back from the greatest hunt of
all,'" Elijah shouted as the faint tremor of the overdrive
system began.

Ian opened his eyes for a moment to look forward.
Delta Sag was straight ahead, its Doppler shift already
noticeable. Soon the jump would kick in completely and radical distort would slide its light through the visible
spectrum. The jump would be a short one,
then
their destination would no longer be a mere pinpoint of light, a distant star. For the first time in over half a year, their cabin would again be flooded with the light of a sun.

The jump shifted up with
Stasz's
shouted reminder of
the chance of breakup. Ian leaned forward, his stomach
rebelling in protest.

Automated Archival Unit 2

First Completion Date:
2087

Primary Function:
Archival. A farsighted effort instituted
by the United Nations Historical Preservation Organ
ization. Having evaluated the prospects for war, a
multinational team set out to provide as complete
a record as possible of the history of mankind on
Earth. Replicas of all major works of art were pro
duced, all major libraries were copied. The data was
placed aboard four units, two of which were suc
cessfully launched from Earth orbit only days before
the first nuclear exchange of the Holocaust War.

Evacuation Date:
August 1, 2087.

Overall Design:
O'Neill Cylinder, 400 meters by 100 me
ters.
Minimal life-support systems.
Design was to be
largely self-sustaining and self-navigating.

Propulsion:
Plasma Drive.

Course:
SETI Anomaly One.
Political/Social Orientation:
None.

"We've locked onto that signal, Ian. It's just come out
of occultation by a gas giant, four A.U. ahead. There's
strong background interference from a number of radio
sources closer in to Delta."

"Shelley, which unit is the beacon from?"

"Ian,
it's
Archival 2
!" The tone of her voice caused
the others to turn and look in her direction. Ian was already pushing forward to peer over her shoulder at the display screen.

"The jackpot!"

Ian and Shelley started to hug each other, and in her
enthusiasm Shelley planted a long kiss on Ian that had
the others clapping and cheering.

"All right, all right," Richard
said,
his curiosity no
longer capable of being contained, "what's
Archival 2
? Is
it Smith's unit?"

"No, it's just the mother lode of a historical dream.
It's the archive ship, launched just before the war. It con
tains everything, Richard. Everything you could imagine.
The only complete record of everything from before the war.
Good lord, Beaulieu will kiss my feet just for the chance to look at it, just to touch it for one minute. We'll
be blowing our noses on honorary doctorates for this!" Ian floated out of the room weeping with joy.

"I guess that means we go to
Archival 2
,"
Stasz
said
quietly with an attempt at understatement.

"
Stasz
, you said you were picking up a lot of back
ground interference. What is it?"

"Oh, only a broad spectrum of interference from a large number of radio frequencies—what you'd pick up in near-
Earth space.
You know, a first-class civilization, billion-plus-people level of communication..." His voice trailed
off.

"I think we better tell Ian," Ellen replied, her anxiety
now obvious.

"You'll get an argument over it,"
Stasz
responded. "That
mad historian wants his archival unit first."

"Where are the signals centered?" Richard asked.

"In toward Delta Sag. Initial printout indicates a small planetary body; it all seems to be coming primarily from
that one source."

"Anything from the region of
Archival 2
?"

"Nothing."

"Fine then," Richard replied. "Originally we had
planned to stay out here and monitor them for several weeks before we made the move. But let's get into
Ar
chival 2
instead. He'll see the wealth of information there,
the historian in him will want to preserve it at all costs,
and, I daresay, we'll be hauling back to Earth with the
news within a day—this Franklin Smith adventure for
gotten. So, let's go on in."

Stasz
gave a grunt of assertion, and even Shelley seemed
satisfied with Richard's conclusion.

Elijah sat in the back of the cabin, silent, staring at the
ball of light whose heavily filtered globe now filled the
monitor.

"Hard dock."

Ian was out of his seat and pushing off for the airlock, calling for the others to follow.

Within minutes he was suited up and urging on Shelley
and Ellen, acting like a little boy whose parents refuse to
get out of bed on Christmas morning.

Stasz
came back to join them, and from a small
attache
case he produced three stun pistols.

"Ian, you better take these along, just in case."

"
Stasz
, there hasn't been anyone aboard that vessel since it launched a thousand years ago."

"Bull. This thing's in orbit when it should be heading for the galactic core, that beacon is in perfect working
order, and we've picked up strong transmissions from
only ten A.U. away. They've been here, Ian, they might
be in there now."

"Well, if that's the case, I guess we'll just have to talk
it out when we meet them."

"They didn't talk it out when I met them," Elijah said.

Ian looked around at the rest of the crew.

"Look, I know you're not too thrilled about this. I'm just going in to confirm what's in there. If it really is
Archival 2
, I think that information takes higher prece
dence over anything else. We'll see what we can take
back with us,
then
we get the hell out of here. Does that
satisfy everybody?"

The rest were silent.

"Give me the damn guns and let's get going."

And then he thought again of Smith. "I'll be with you
in a moment, I forgot something."

"Come on, Ian," Shelley called, "this isn't the time to
go to the bathroom."

But he was already out of the chamber. Several minutes
later he reappeared, and without another word he mo
tioned them into the airlock.

If Smith did board them, Ian hoped he had now pro
vided the insurance policy. He had pushed five of the six
activation switches on the
thermomine
. If they were threatened with boarding, simply pushing down on the
sixth and pulling it back up would finish the job.

The inner airlock to the unit opened effortlessly, and
Ian, followed by Ellen, Shelley, and Richard, floated into
an open expanse of corridor.

"Oxygen check looks good, Ian," Shelley reported.
"No toxicity readings."

With a sigh of relief he pulled off his helmet. He had
always hated the claustrophobic things anyhow.

"Look, Ian, that plaque."

He pushed off gently and came up against a plaque of
gold set into the far wall; reaching out with his suction
holders, he clamped onto the wall like a spider.

He started to tremble as he read the first line in Old
English.

Automated Archival Unit 2

Launch Date 2087

"So that only the best of our world

May be remem
bered."

The same phrase was repeated in half a dozen other languages, beneath that was a small directory and map
giving directions to the vast interior storage areas.

"This is it, Shelley, this is it!"

"It looks like the catalog directory is over this way,"
Ellen called, her apprehensions momentarily forgotten in
the enthusiasm for what they had found.

The other three followed her as she floated along the
docking corridor and stepped into a slowly rotating stair
well that led down to the rotating mass of the cylinder.

At first they simply let themselves drop down the shaft,
but with the gradual increase in acceleration, they soon
grabbed hold of the
handrailings
to break what could have
developed into a disastrous fall.

Another gold plaque pointed them into a dimly lit cor
ridor that was lined with racks of filing cards.

"Now that's curious," Ellen whispered. "It's the pre-
computer method of filing data. I remember reading about
it.
Seems awfully cumbersome."

"Logical though," Ian replied. "They must have a com
puter master, but this was included in case of a total power
failure. Look over there."

He pointed to a brightly painted circle where several
dozen large books were laid out side by side.

Ian approached the books and stared at them with eager anticipation, the way some people approach a gourmet
meal or the first night with a new lover.

"Ian, come over here and look at this," Shelley cried.
"Good Lord, just look at what they have!"

Shelley was waving a small filing card over her head,
which she had, in her enthusiasm, plucked out of one of the filing cabinets.

Ian came over to her side and examined her find. "I
remember you talking about the old Apollo missions,"
she shouted, "so I saw this cabinet with
Ap
-As
listed on
it. Here's a card that lists an
Apollo 8
. Level Three, Room
224, File 203-090-112-130. Ian, they don't have one Apollo
card in there, they have half a hundred!"

The four of them looked at each other and within sec
onds they were all busy digging into the files, each one
looking for his or her favorite topic, exploring the answer
to a question from the world of the past that had forever puzzled them.

Ian was overwhelmed. He thought the discovery of the
library aboard the longevity unit had been the find of
lifetime, but this was simply beyond his comprehension.
In simple awe of it all, he started to weep. He had found
the Valhalla of historians at last!

Hours later he staggered back to the filing area, leaving
the others to the enthusiastic examination of the finds.
There was enough sense still about him to realize that
this unit had not been vacant for the last millennium. First
off, something had altered its course from the original
route into the galactic core. Second, something had provided the data to this vessel and had guided it into orbit.
Finally, there was significant evidence of repair and main
tenance.

He was drawn back at last to the books set off in the white circle. They were obviously set there to draw a
visitor's attention. Not sure what to anticipate, Ian reached
over and opened the first book.

He suddenly realized that Shelley had come up to his
side.

"What is it?"

"I think it's a translator. Look, the pictographs for a man and a woman. Here's a diagram of our solar system
and a map giving our location in relationship to the rest of the galaxy. That's it—these books are a translator for
anyone, or anything, for that matter, who might find this ship."

"Ian?
Stasz
here."

There was a note of anxiety in his voice.

"Go on."

"Ian, I've just picked up a high-energy burst from the
forward antenna of
Archival 2
. Damn near blew me out
of my couch."

"I think we just hit the doorbell," Ian said softly. "Rich
ard, Ellen, did you hear that? Meet me back in the catalog
area before we head out."

Within the minute
Stasz
was back with more news.

"I've just locked on to several incoming energy sources,
I can't tell what they are yet, but they were in high orbit around this planet. They're accelerating like mad. Damn
it, you people better
hurry
!"

A doorway at the far end of the corridor slid open and Ellen burst through it panting for breath. "Where's Rich
ard, I want to get moving!"

"Richard, how long before you get back here?"
Ian
tried to sound calm, but he knew his nervousness was
showing.

"Another five minutes, at least, Ian. I'm way the hell
at the other end of this ship."

Damn it! Ian silently cursed himself. He had screwed up. He should have had everybody stay together. He got so carried away by the honey pot that he had not thought
of the consequences.

"Ian. Look, why don't you people head on out without me?
Ahh
, I mean you'll stand a better chance that way."

"What is this, Richard, a god-damn video drama? Cut
the garbage and move your fat butt up here."

He could hear the audible sigh of relief.

"I hoped you'd say that, but at least my offer sounded
good."

"You'd never have made it if I was in command," Ellen
muttered.