Star Viking (Extinction Wars Book 3) (14 page)

“I should have thought of it,” I said. “Yeah, the artifact just zipped away from the Altair system. It brought us home from hyperspace.” I laughed, and even to my own ears, it sounded a little crazy.

“I thought the artifact has gone to sleep for twenty-five years,” Rollo said. “It’s going to think things through.”

“That’s what it told us,” I said.

“So how can you get it to talk to you?” Rollo asked.

“That would be the first trick,” I said. “The second would be to convince it to move around for us.”

“Are you serious?” Dmitri asked. “You really think that would be a good idea?”

I grinned from ear to ear. “We’re going to postpone our next venture.” With a snap of my fingers, I said, “I need to talk to N7.” I put away my stick, heading for the hatch.

“Hey,” Dmitri said. “What about the game?”

I was too wound up to answer, beginning to run as I moved through the hatch.

N7 and I used thruster-packs, flying from a Demar hauler to the giant artifact before us.

As I’ve said before, the object looked like a gleaming silver donut the size of a medium asteroid with an artificial black hole in the center. Whatever anchored the black hole wasn’t visible to the naked eye or to our scientific instruments.

In my opinion, the technology of the First Ones was in play. In most cases, their machinery baffled us.

Who were the First Ones anyway? That’s what I wanted to know. As the name implied, they were the supposed to have been the first on the scene. The tiger religion said the Creator sculpted the universe, first making the substance, of course. Then He poured the First Ones down as a baker might dribble sugar into a cake mix. The Forerunners—the First Ones—made the artifacts, and in the course of time, the living beings vanished. No one I’d spoken to had given me an explanation as to why the First Ones went extinct. It was a
fait accompli
. The artifact-makers were gone, but they had left behind their impressive machines and the jump lanes between the stars.

The Jelk, the tigers and the baboons all wanted the artifacts for themselves. Heck, even Abaddon had wanted them. Everybody did.

N7 had been inside the artifact on the portal planet with me. Why shouldn’t he join me a second time, if it proved possible? Send a thief to catch a thief. Use an android to convince a living machine to help.

The Forerunner artifact had told me its name before, Holgotha. Over seven years ago, N7 and I had been inside one of the squat buildings on the inner portion of the donut nearest the black hole. There, the artifact and I had engaged in an interesting conversation.

As I jetted through space toward the approaching object, I recalled the words we’d spoken together while on the portal planet:

“Did the First Ones see the Creator?” I asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” Holgotha replied.

“Is there a Creator?” N7 asked.

Holgotha paused, finally saying, “My designers and builders believed so. I have awaited the cycles and millennia for conclusive proof.”

“Is that why you came here?” I asked. I meant to the portal planet in hyperspace.

“I do not understand your reasoning,” Holgotha said. “Can you be more specific?”

“Do you wish to unleash an apocalypse on our universe in order to see what will happen?” I asked. “Do you believe that will bring the Creator into sight?” If Abaddon and the Kargs had reached our space-time continuum with all their moth-ships, it would have meant death for everyone else.

“For the first time, I find your reasoning interesting.” There was a pause, before Holgotha added, “I wonder if some of my oldest subroutines subscribe to such a notion. I will investigate.”

“How long will that take?” I asked.

“Do you mean in your time?” asked Holgotha.

“Sure,” I said.

“Twenty to twenty-five years,” the artifact said.

“So your internal investigation is going to take quite a bit of your, ah…” I hesitated. Just how touchy was the artifact? “I don’t want to be imprecise and I don’t mean to demean you by implying you’re a computer. But will your twenty-year analysis absorb the majority of your computational abilities?”

“Eh?” Holgotha asked. “Did you ask another question? I have begun to assemble my inquisitor files.”

I licked my lips.

“Interesting, interesting,” Holgotha said. “There is a new development occurring even now…”

My head twitched as N7 veered toward me in space. His silver faceplate stared at me.

“Is there a problem?” I radioed N7. The artifact loomed before us, while Ceres was a speck far behind.

“Negative, Commander,” the android radioed. “You seemed distracted. I merely wondered if everything was well.”

“I’m doing great. Now let’s concentrate. We’ll have to brake soon so we can land.”

I used the familiar throttle controls. We wore ultra vacc-suits, heavily shielded against radiation. We’d soon need every bit of armoring against the black hole.

The trouble, as I saw it, would be waking Holgotha up to us. His subroutines were busy making his computations. What did an artifact of Holgotha’s magnitude think about during his many millennia of existence? I couldn’t comprehend. Then again, I didn’t think I had to. Instead, I would use imagination. That was the great human gift, right? Today, I’d have to employ it better than I ever had.

Commander Creed, the man with the golden tongue. Yeah, right, I didn’t see it, but I’d give it a go.

“It is time, Commander,” N7 radioed.

Twisting around so the nozzles pointed at the approaching surface, I engaged thrust. White hydrogen particles hissed from my pack. I began to slow down. The giant donut loomed even larger behind me. I could see it in my HUD. The last time I’d touched the ancient metal, I’d left the donut after having escaped Abaddon.

The good news, Holgotha hadn’t departed our solar system yet. We really had no idea how fussy the big thing would prove to be. In the Altair star system, the object had disappeared when the Starkiens and we assault troopers had approached too closely during combat. I’d never thought to ask the artifact when I had the chance why he’d done that.

Using even more thrust so my torso trembled, I lightly touched down onto the silver skin. Beside me, N7 did likewise.

I shut off my thruster-pack and began to undo the buckles and seals. Soon enough, I magnetized the propulsion system to the artifact.

With magnetized boots, I tramped my way toward the curve that would take me to the inner portion of the donut. N7 moved in his lurching step beside me. Magnetized walking always took some getting used to.

I saw a long trail of port exhaust up there in space. The hauler moved back from us.

Turning, I waved to N7. He waved back. We wore ultra-dense vacc-suits, carried many days of air with us, concentrates and water and a special system that would help to eliminate wastes. The gear was good, but none of that would matter if we failed to find a way to wake Holgotha to us.

“Ready?” I radioed N7.

“Let us proceed,” the android said.

It took a long time to walk around the curve, starting toward the black hole. Light couldn’t penetrate it. A ball of deepest darkness hung there in the exact center. I shuddered and wondered how well the ultra-suit would protect my bones and tissues from the deadly rays.

Strange script in golden letters highlighted the artifact’s inner surface. Then I spied them again; the low buildings huddled together. While back on the portal planet—in the exact center of it, to be precise—N7 and I had walked through the walls of one of the ancient buildings, bringing us to a place where Holgotha had communicated with us.

I imagined for a moment that Holgotha wasn’t a space artifact, but one of the Creator’s rings. Did a creator exit? Had aliens concocted the idea simply as a useless space religion? No. The artifact couldn’t be a ring. Why would the squat buildings be there then?

Once again, N7 aimed his faceplate at me. I tried radio reception. All I heard was harsh static on my earphones. Making an exaggerated shrug, I continued toward the buildings.

It’s hard not to get loopy with odd feelings while trudging on Holgotha’s inner surface. The artifact had been around longer than humanity had existed. Yet I walked along the surface. Beings called First Ones must have welded hull plates together. Could any of the builders have realized their machine would continue for such a vastly long age? It seemed doubtful.

In time, the squat buildings loomed before N7 and me. The highest stood two stories tall. There was nothing grand about them. Together, they looked little more than boxes of varying sizes shoved near each other. The streets were the same as the rest of the artifact’s surface. The buildings were dark, looking like chalk.

With my gauntlet, I rapped against a wall. The side felt like metal.

N7 pointed at a particular wall.

Chinning my headphones on again, all I heard was static. Here, the black hole was our enemy.

I turned my microphone on. “Holgotha,” I said. “There is danger in the solar system. We request a quick counsel session to learn your wishes.”

Nothing happened.

I banged the flat of my gloves against the wall. Once, the gauntlets had sunken through. Then I’d walked through a wall to the other side. It wasn’t happening today. Could the artifact even hear my words?

“Something attacks the Jelk Corporation,” I said into the microphone. “The Jelk have summoned Saurian fleets from our frontier to help them closer to the center of the galaxy. The balance of power is shifting around us. We need some help.”

N7 faced me. I looked around. This was such a bleak place. I felt lonely and more than a little useless. What would budge the artifact? I had no idea.

As I opened my mouth, I sensed a word in my mind. “
Go
.”

Did Holgotha communicate with me in some strange manner I didn’t understand? It seemed more than likely.

Seconds later, N7 tugged at one of my arms. I glanced at him. The android pointed toward the nearest edge. I had the feeling N7 wanted to go.

“No,” I said. “I’m not leaving.”

N7 tugged harder. I disengaged my arm from his grip. The android’s shoulders deflated.

“Holgotha!” I shouted, slapping my palms against a wall.

“
Go now while you are able
.”

The artifact seemed to be able to put thoughts into my mind. Holgotha possessed super-advanced technology. Maybe telepathy was one of its forms.

Stubbornly, I shook my head. The Shi-Feng had tried to kill me. Doctor Sant had pumped me full of poison. The Starkiens made a bid against us. And now, the Purple Tamika Admiral Saris had taken all but one of my warships. I needed this ancient machine’s cooperation.

“Holgotha,” I radioed. “You’re in Earth space. We’re down to one spaceship. I need to discuss your defensive situation with you.”

Fear hit me then. I cringed, wilting away from the building. A howl lodged in my throat. This was a terrible place. Ghosts must inhabit the artifact. What kind of fool had I been to return to this holy place?

Even as I felt this, I realized Holgotha must be manufacturing the emotions. The artifact beamed the feelings at me. I refused to let them sway me.

“Forget it, bud,” I said between clenched teeth. No machine was going to out-mule me. I drew a sidearm, one gained during the battle on the portal planet. Aiming at the wall—

“
Wait
.”

I hesitated. Had that done the trick?

On impulse, I put my free hand against the wall. It sank into the substance. A giddy sensation bloomed within my gut. Holstering the sidearm, I shoved my shoulder against the wall. Ever so slowly, I sank into it. Maybe I should have waited to see what N7 did. Instead, I pushed through the solid yet wavering wall. As if pushing against a raging stream, I fought my way through the material.

A few moments later, I staggered through into a small chamber. The walls gleamed white as brightness shined down from the ceiling.

I didn’t remember this place from last time. Then again, that had been over seven years ago.

A second later, something staggered against me. I turned around and found N7 couched low.

“You may remove your helmets.”

The words sounded muffled. They came from the vibrations of the farthest wall. Like last time, I thought of the trick as a super-larynx.

Hesitantly, I reached up and twisted. With a
click
, I removed my helmet. Chemically harsh odors made my nose twitch and me to jerk.

“What is the problem?” Holgotha asked.

“The odors in here are burning the inside of my nose,” I half-choked in reply.

“A moment,” the ancient artifact rumbled. “There. Is that better?”

I sniffed experientially, expecting an even worse assault against my nostrils. Instead, a spicy scent made me sneeze.

“What is wrong now?” Holgotha said in his deep voice, the wall continuing to vibrate.

“Nothing,” I said. “Don’t mind me.”

“On the contrary,” the artifact said. “You have allowed me nothing less than to mind you.”

I glanced at N7. The android had removed his helmet, holding it in the crook of his arm. He appeared calm. I knew better.

“Do you have a place to sit?” I asked Holgotha.

A stretching noise heralded substance oozing up from the floor. The sight increased the unreality of this place. The moment the substance stopped stretching, I sat. My knees had become weak. I realized we had gravity in the room. My magnetized boots no longer worked on this floor. That was interesting.

“Hurry,” Holgotha said. “Tell me why you found it necessary to aim a weapon at one of the monitor stations.”

“Truthfully,” I said, “I aimed it out of frustration. Perhaps I also hoped it would get you to respond.”

“I am busy in my analysis,” Holgotha said. “This talk wastes time. Something I deplore.”

“I’m with you there,” I said. “That’s another reason I wanted to talk with you.”