The Lost Patrol (36 page)

-64-

Maddox paused. So did the android behind him, in the towering combat armor.

“Do you sense the creature?” the android asked.

“I sense something,” Maddox said. “But it’s different this time.”

“Describe the differences.”

“Last time, I felt its hunger,” the captain said. “This time, I sense that it’s cunning.”

“Here,” the android said. It held out two grenades in a large power glove.

Maddox took them.

“If you try to turn on me,” the android said, “I’ll kill you. Those are for the creature. We have to kill it the first time.”

“Is it the Builder?” Maddox asked.

“I do not know.”

“You must have some idea what’s going on?”

“Captain, my data is thousands of years old. I’m almost as deeply in the dark about female Builders as you are.”

“Then why did you come to kill it?”

“I have an imperative to do so.”

“Granted,” Maddox said. “Who gave you the imperative?”

“Like you, I operate on my own imperatives.”

“That doesn’t ring true,” Maddox said.

“It is immaterial, in any case. Look,” the android said, pointing with the laser carbine.

In the higher darkness, Maddox saw motion. The thing was large, although not as large as the Builder in the Dyson sphere had been. This one had a similar shape, making it substantially different from what he’d seen here the first time.

“Can you communicate with it?” Maddox asked.

“Only in the mode you did.”

It took Maddox several seconds to realize the android meant through firing at the thing.

“That’s a decidedly one-sided communication,” Maddox said.

“Yes. I hope to keep it that way, too.”

Maddox hefted the first grenade. It was a pulsar grenade, very powerful, with an intense heat blast but only a short radius. Soldiers used it in built-up areas to take out strongpoints. Like an old-time neutron bomb, it was meant to kill but leave the buildings intact.

“Do you know if the grenade is effective against the alien?” Maddox asked.

“I’m working off ancient assumptions. Builders detested heat.”

“Are we sure it’s a Builder?”

“Doesn’t it match your description from the Dyson sphere?” the android asked.

Maddox answered with an affirmative.

“Here it comes,” the android said. “You spoke of its cunning. I expected something a little more subtle.”

The dark shadow seemed to grow rapidly as it raced at them like a missile.

Maddox armed the grenade, reached back and hurled the pulsar device with all his considerable strength. It flew fast and straight, climbing—and exploded prematurely.

“You set the timer wrong,” the android accused.

“I doubt that. I believe the Builder caused the explosion.” Maddox glanced at his last grenade. Could the Builder cause it to detonate while in his hand?

The creature had swerved from the blast. It clearly didn’t like heat. Now, it glided away, swerved again toward them and radiated visible pulse lines from its central mass.

As the waves reached Maddox, his gut clenched with fear. He almost whimpered, only holding that back through fierce resolve.

“I can’t aim my carbine at it,” the android complained. “I’m trying, but my arms refuse to obey my will.”

“Give me the laser,” Maddox said.

“That makes no sense. I do not have emotions. You do. You should be more paralyzed than I.”

“I’m using other emotions to fight my fear,” Maddox said. “Now give me the laser before we’re both dead.”

The android shoved the carbine at Maddox.

Maddox’s fingers barely latched onto metal. Then he dove and rolled as the Builder swept over their location.

Struck by the attacker, the android hit the deck hard, rolling across the floor as the Builder lifted. Smoke roiled from the android’s combat armor as acid burned into his torso region.

“Some of the acid is burning through to me,” the android said. “But I am dampening my pain sensors. Despite that, I fear I am about to lose any motive abilities.”

Maddox only half heard the android. He tracked the Builder. She rose. As she did, she extended herself as if her body was a pair of wings. At the same time, she made a complex aerial maneuver. Instead of heading back up, she swooped down again.

Waves of terror smashed against Maddox. His arms felt leaden. His heart raced and his stomach twisted. He did not heed the fear, though. He had to survive in order to find his mother’s killer. If he succumbed to the fear, he would never know revenge. He would never right that terrible wrong.

With his teeth clenched and his eyes blazing, Maddox aligned the carbine on the swooping thing. He pulled the trigger. A bright line of energy leapt from the muzzle, burning against the creature.

For a frozen instant of time, the scene seemed to hold. Then, the perfect and deadly swoop faltered. The Builder veered. Maddox ducked low, and the membrane shadow flashed past him. As it did, globs of acid splashed against the floor, burning holes into it. One mite of acid “saliva” splashed onto Maddox’s vacc suit. With the butt of the carbine, he smashed the spot, causing the acid to transfer to the stock where it made plastic bubble and burn.

The creature climbed higher. Maddox tracked it with his eyes. He wondered how she did that, because he could not detect any flapping. He realized she used something else to gain height.

“Maddox,” he heard in his helmet speaker.

“Meta?”

“Don’t shoot it again,” Shu said. “You’ve already hurt her.”

“She’s trying to kill us,” Maddox told the Spacer. “Tell her to stop, and I’ll stop firing.”

“I’m trying to communicate,” Shu said. “She’s refusing, though.”

Maddox chanced to glance back. He saw Meta sprinting to him, carrying Shu like a child. He took that time to look at the android. The thing no longer moved as more of his combat armor smoked. The acid continued to eat away at metal and other materials.

“Hang on,” Maddox heard in his helmet speaker.

Meta tripped. She might have reflexively thrown Shu in order to save herself. Instead, the Rouen Colony woman thrust her knees forward, sliding across the floor on her shins as she continued to clutch the Spacer against her chest.

Maddox looked up. He saw the visible terror lines radiating from the Builder.

“Afraid,” Meta whispered. “I’m frightened.”

Holding the carbine so he kept the acid-smoldering butt off his vacc suit, Maddox aimed the best he could. He beamed the Builder, hitting her as she climbed.

“Stop it,” Shu screamed. “You must not harm the Builder. She’s going to save us. She’s going to bring us peace and freedom from fear.”

Maddox ignored Shu as he kept beaming. The Spacer sounded terrified. In his speaker, he heard Shu beginning to sob.

Abruptly, the carbine stopped beaming.

“Did you do that?” Maddox demanded of Shu.

“I had to,” the Spacer whispered. “We cannot harm the Builder. She is the supreme—”

“She’s swooping down to kill us,” Maddox shouted. “Look at the—Marine,” he said at the last minute. “She killed him with acid. Give me back my power.”

“I cannot do that,” Shu whispered.

Maddox studied the alien creature.

The Builder had veered as he’d beamed it. Now, it bulleted down at him. Instead of waves of terror, he sensed rage.

Maddox let the rage flow through his being. He accepted it, understood it—and in that instant, he sensed what the Builder planned to do. The knowledge must come with the emotions radiating off the creature. It would swoop upon him, smothering him in the folds of her membranes and let acid boil him alive. At the same time, she would do something else even more insidious.

“Are you sensing that?” Maddox shouted at Shu.

The Spacer did not respond. She had been reduced to tears.

With the stoppage of the terror sensations, Meta climbed to her feet. She used the captain’s rifle (he had the Marine’s laser carbine) and aimed and began to fire bullets.

As the Builder swooped for the kill, bullets struck her membrane. Did that distract the creature? It was more than possible.

Even so, Maddox held onto the pulsar grenade, waiting for the right moment to use it. He wasn’t going to give the Builder the opportunity to prematurely explode it as she’d done earlier.

Bullets struck the Builder and gases hissed from the entrance wounds. She opened herself like a hawk opening its talons. Maddox armed the pulsar, heaved it upward underhanded, practically placing it in the folds of her membrane. Then, he hit the deck and pressed himself against it as low as he could.

The Builder’s enfolded membrane—like a clenched fist—slid over his body. A
whump
noise sounded from within the fold.

Maddox rolled to get out of the way.

The Builder screeched, and sensations of agony billowed from her. The thing became bright as the creature shot upward. She opened her enfolded membrane so the intensely bright grenade dropped from her along with raining droplets of acid.

Maddox climbed to his feet as he watched. He tested the carbine. It worked. As the Builder gained height and distance, he beamed her. He kept the beam on target, watching globules of membrane drip from the fleeing Builder.

Several moments later, she flew out of sight.

Maddox lowered the carbine as Meta lowered the rifle. Shu continued to weep softly.

“This is interesting,” Ludendorff said over the shortwave. “Yes, that was most remarkable. I am beginning to believe the ancient rumor, but I wouldn’t have unless I’d seen it with my own eyes.”

-65-

“We don’t have time for games, Professor,” Maddox said. “Tell us what you suspect while there’s time for us to do something about it.”

The Methuselah Man limped down the hall in his vacc suit, leaning heavily on Sergeant Riker’s shoulder. Following close behind came Keith Maker, dragging a makeshift sled with an abundance of Marine guns and ordnance on it.

Ludendorff said, “A Methuselah Man before my time, long before my time—the one who played the role of Galen, Archimedes and later Leonardo Da Vinci—held a theory about the Builders. Actually, this theory did not originate with him, but came from Menes, the first pharaoh of Egypt. Now, there was a remarkable Methuselah Man.”

Shu had stopped weeping, although she sniffled continuously, as she could not wipe or blow her nose while she wore a helmet.

“The theory passed through many of the early Methuselah Men,” Ludendorff said. He wheezed as Riker helped him limp up to Maddox.

They glanced at the still Marine on the floor, his exo-skeleton armor burned through.

“It’s an old theory,” Maddox prodded, as he watched for the Builder’s return.

“I’d have suggested it earlier,” Ludendorff said, “but I didn’t lend it any credence. It seemed too preposterous to believe.”

“Would you get to the point?” Maddox said.

“Of course, my boy, of course,” Ludendorff said. “We’re in a dire way, and time is running down. I realize that.” He harrumphed, glanced once again at the downed Marine and began to speak.

“The Builders are incredibly ancient. We all know that.”

“Get to the point,” Maddox repeated.

“Very well,” the professor said. “According to the theory, the Builders lost their women—their females—during the Builder-Destroyer War eons ago. Apparently, the Makers of the Destroyers had concocted a virus, one the Builders proved helpless in defeating. This virus only attacked the females. I have no idea why this was so. Remember, it was an ancient theory. I suspect some of the early Methuselah Men had greater contact with the Builders. Maybe the race showed more vigor in those days.”

“Professor,” Maddox said.

“Needless to say,” Ludendorff said more quickly, “the Builders tried to cure the virus, but failed.”

“That’s a lie,” Shu said with heat, hiccupping as she did. “The first Spacers spoke with a female Builder on a distant world—”

“Would you listen for once?” Ludendorff snapped at Shu. “Your kind didn’t find a female back then, but a
mummified
female.”

“That’s not how the story goes,” Shu said.

“Perhaps it’s not exact in every way,” Ludendorff admitted. “But the one point is essential—the mummified Builder. Now, maybe your Builder wasn’t mummified exactly, but it wasn’t normal. That’s the critical point.”

Shu did not respond this time.

“I don’t understand the significance of the mummification,” Maddox said.

“Of course you don’t,” Ludendorff said. “You’re not steeped in Spacer lore or that of the Methuselah Men either. My point is simply that the female Builder the first Spacers met was not like the male Builders. The reason why was fundamental. She wasn’t a real Builder in an organic sense.”

“No!” Shu shouted. “You spout lies and propaganda.”

“But you said earlier the thing up there was a machine like an android,” Meta told Shu.

“I was wrong about that,” Shu said. She pointed at Ludendorff. “He’s a liar of the first order.”

“I’ve been accused of that before,” Ludendorff said. “In this case, I’m trying to understand what I just witnessed. The creature that killed the poor Marine and almost murdered the captain did not act like any Builder I knew.”

“You only knew your one suicidal Builder,” Shu said. “So I hardly think that makes you an expert on the subject.”

“Madam, I am the
only
expert we have at the moment. You would do well to listen to the theory. As the captain’s body language shows, our time is running out.”

“Speak then, speak,” Shu ranted. “Spout your bigoted lies. I hardly care anymore. This is terrible, a disaster for humanity.”

The professor harrumphed once more. “According to the ancient theory, the Builders were devastated and demoralized by their loss. Unless they took swift action, their race was doomed. Thus, they went to their science stalls and practiced some of their most cunning arts. They manufactured love bots, as it were. But since these were the Builders, they also constructed love androids to stimulate them to passionate heights and to hold their seed and mix with carefully saved eggs so new Builders could be born.

“Unfortunately,” the professor said, “somewhere the Builders made a mistake. Pharaoh Menes had several theories on the matter. His primary belief was that the wrong Builders constructed the love bots, making them more for passion than for procreation. To that end, they allowed the, uh,
caller
to transfer whatever level of intelligence he wished his love bot to have. That’s where the mummified angle comes in, if you understand my meaning.

“Now it’s true that the original Spacers did not find a mummy, but a robot or android of sorts. ‘She’ accessed her intelligence centers and gave the Spacers their dubious beginning with who knows what sorts of falsehoods. According to Menes—at least according to what Leonardo Da Vinci told me—Da Vinci lived much longer than his so-called death, by the way. In any case, a Builder caller could download whatever intelligence he wanted in his love unit, even to fictional stories in order to give him the type of lovemaking session that most appealed to him.”

“That’s sickening,” Shu said. “That is the most disgusting story I’ve ever heard. Why, that would imply that the golden pyramids are nothing more than brothels scattered throughout the galaxy. That would imply we Spacers have lost our greatest expeditions while attempting to reach an alien whore house.”

“It’s rather humorous if you think about it,” Ludendorff said.

Shu called him several profane names and suggested he attempt anatomically impossible contortions in the process.

“Why do you direct such anger at me?” the professor asked. “I’m merely trying to understand reality. The theory makes sense once you consider it closely. Why did the Builders disappear? The answer is becoming more obvious by the year. They became decadent, just like the ancient Babylonians, the ancient Romans and the Americans of the Twenty-first century. It’s a common process. Human cultures are born, flourish, grow old and die. Why can’t the same thing happen to an alien species? The Builders finally became decadent. Perhaps their sex romps in the golden pyramids hastened their fall. Maybe the Makers of the Destroyers realized this as they set out to exterminate the Builders.”

“You’re a gloating old goat,” Shu said.

“It’s an interesting theory,” Maddox said. “At the moment, that’s all it is, though. Or do you have more reasons to believe what you suggest is a fact?”

“That you are alive is the single greatest fact to suggest something is decidedly wrong with the so-called Builder,” Ludendorff said. “You must understand. The Builders would never have made anything to look like them except for these love bots.”

“Don’t call it that,” Shu demanded. “Even if you’re right, the thing is an android, which would make it a Builder of sorts.”

“Speaking of androids,” Maddox said. “Marine Lieutenant Yen Cho is an android. He’s remained hidden until now so he can kill the Builder.”

The others turned to stare at the still Marine.

“Help me over there,” Ludendorff told Riker.

“No!” Shu said. “You will leave the android.” She pointed a tiny beamer at the Marine. “I’ve had enough of this endless subterfuge. Androids, Methuselah Men and a hybrid New Man—you all conspire against the Spacers. Do you wonder why we’ve remained in the shadows all these years?”

Meta swung her rifle from behind, catching Shu’s hand, knocking the beamer onto the floor.

The small Spacer clutched her vacc-gloved hand, groaning in pain.

“The Spacer is in shock,” Ludendorff said. “The symptoms are obvious. Who can blame her? This is a lot to take in at once. I suggest we need her now more than ever if we’re going to survive the next hour. Thus, we need to help her regain her equilibrium.”

“We’re going to have to do better than just survive,” Maddox said. “We have to get back to
Victory
and leave this place. First, though, we need a hyper-spatial tube back to Earth.”

“Captain,” the professor said. “You’re spouting nonsense. There is no way to achieve all this in the timeframe you’re suggesting. Survival is our sole goal now. Anything else—”

“No,” the android said over the shortwave, speaking in a raspy voice. “I know a way, but you’ll have to do exactly as I say.” He panted painfully before adding, “You have no idea how we androids have been helping you Earthlings. We’ve done so for years. I’ll help you get what you need, but first you’re going to have to help me.”

“No,” Shu told the android in a harsh voice. “You’re not going to do anything. You’re about to die.”