Read Captured (The Prometheus Project Book 2) Online
Authors: Douglas E Richards
Captured (The Prometheus Project Book 2) (21 page)
And just like sheep, the Morcan’s couldn’t wait to flock to this galactic society, to abandon their old way of life to cavort with
aliens
—aliens who must surely be laughing in secret at the pathetic newcomers to their galactic club.
Well Tezoc wasn’t a sheep. Fire and pride still burned
in his veins. He was unique—and everyone knew it. He was widely regarded as the most brilliant and most dangerous Morcan on the planet.
And the greatest insult of all—the Qwervy had contacted him in prison and offered to cure him of what they called his mental illness, eliminating his ruthless and unstable behavior. Cure
him
? It was the rest of his people that needed curing, not him. Would a powerful, cunning, perfectly adapted carnivore agree to be turned into a tame, spineless grass-eater? No, of course not. And neither would Tezoc.
He directed a thought at the wall and a glass emerged, instantly filled with his favorite drink. Invisible tractor beams of energy shuttled it quickly to his hand.
But as weak and pathetic as his fellow Morcans were, they had—finally—managed to capture him, and if he escaped they would do so yet again. They had recorded his brain wave patterns, something impossible for him to disguise, and had technology that would allow them to track him down, wherever he went. At least wherever he went on the planet Morca.
But because of the Qwervy he could now leave Morca altogether. As much as he loathed them, they had done him an enormous favor. He could use their portals to travel to another planet to amass immense power, right under their noses. And while this would be exceptionally difficult, he was as patient as he was brilliant—and he had all the time in the world to plan. He might be a prisoner, but he still had access to Morca’s extraordinarily advanced central computer.
“Computer,” he said after having accessed it, “I want to ask you some questions. Will this conversation be absolutely private?”
“Yes. Even though you are a criminal and a prisoner, you have the right to privacy … with one exception.”
“Which is?”
“I am not authorized to provide you with any information on prison security or any technology being used to keep you a prisoner here. If you ask me for any information that might help you escape, I will not answer and I will be forced to alert the authorities. Otherwise, our conversation will be private and I will provide you with any assistance I can.”
Tezoc nodded thoughtfully. “How about when we’re finished. Can I order you to erase all evidence our conversation ever took place?”
“No. You cannot. Our discussion will be recorded permanently and cannot be deleted. I can, however, seal the conversation so that only you can access it.”
Tezoc took a long sip of his drink and let go of his glass. The tractor beams caught it instantly and it hovered before him as he continued. “Suppose you sealed our conversation and—speaking totally hypothetically, of course—I were to escape,” he said calmly. “Would this be grounds for the authorities to break the seal?”
“No one has ever escaped from a modern Morcan prison,” pointed out the computer.
The corners of Tezoc’s mouth turned upward in a slight smile. “Of course, of course. Since escape is impossible and I have no interest in escaping in any event, I only ask out of idle curiosity.”
“The conversation would be sealed no matter what, even if you were to escape and even if you were to commit further criminal acts. No one but you could ever retrieve it.”
Tezoc nodded, satisfied. It was very thoughtful of the sheep to protect the privacy rights of the carnivores. “Then do so. Seal this conversation and all other conversations and interactions between us until I tell you otherwise.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Okay, let us begin. How many planets are connected together by portals?”
“This number is growing so rapidly that by the time I communicate the precise number to you it will have changed.”
“
Approximately
how many?” snapped Tezoc impatiently.
“Nine million.”
Tezoc whistled. The Qwervy and their community of alien species had been busy.
“How many of these planets are members of the galactic community?”
“As of today, 397.”
“Just 397? Out of nine million? What about the rest of them?”
“Other than these 397, almost all of the rest are primitive, devoid of intelligent life or civilizations. These can be accessed freely by all members of the galactic community.”
“You said
almost
all of the rest are primitive. Which means there must be yet another category.”
“Yes. This category is comprised of worlds containing civilizations that have not advanced enough for membership in the galactic community. Each of these is under periodic observation by the Qwervy or other member
species. These worlds are restricted. Only a few authorized observers are allowed to visit.”
Tezoc nodded. “How many, exactly, are in this category?”
“As of today, 268.”
Tezoc paused in thought. “And how many of these have achieved a technology advanced enough to harness nuclear power and to have simple computers?”
“One hundred and forty-seven.”
“Of these, on how many could a Morcan disguise himself as a member of the dominant, intelligent species without major surgery? Don’t worry about differences in internal organs and the like, just outward appearance.”
“Working … thirty-eight. In some of these cases, the disguise would only require a few changes that could be done with simple makeup. In others, the disguise would require sophisticated masks of the type produced by special effects experts who work on actors.”
This had been a difficult question. It had taken the computer almost a second to answer.
“Computer, I have saved a file on my compu-pad entitled,
desired mental frequencies
. Please upload this file.”
“Working … uploaded and read.”
“Good. How many of these thirty-eight species have brain architecture that fits the profile listed in this file?”
“Three.”
“Do the Qwervy consider all three of these species to be equally promising?”
“No. Surprisingly enough, one of the three is considered to be more promising than any of the other 268
known pre-galactic species. So promising, in fact, they are even thought to have the potential to surpass all of the advanced species in the galactic community someday, including the Qwervy. They are a very young species in galactic terms, but they are advancing at a rate never before seen. Unfortunately, they are also thought to have the potential to become one of the most dangerous species ever known.”
Tezoc smiled for the first time. Perfect. They were just like him—brilliant but dangerous. Who wanted to rule a race of sheep, after all.
“And the location of the planet on which this species lives?”
“Like Morca, it is in the Milky Way galaxy. It is 26,000 light-years from the center of the galaxy, on the edge of one of its four spiral arms, and 8,000 light-years away from Morca.”
Tezoc nodded. This was an incomprehensible distance, but it meant nothing now. Thanks to the almighty Qwervy, the planet was just a portal step away.
“And the name of this planet?”
“The inhabitants call it simply,
Earth
.”
Tezoc repeated the word slowly, letting it roll off his tongue. “Eeearttth.” His eyes brightened as his hatred of the Qwervy was momentarily forgotten. “Okay, download all information you have on the planet Earth into my compu-pad.”
“Working … download completed.”
“Project a hologram of the planet,” ordered Tezoc.
“Acknowledged,” replied the computer as a blue-green globe suddenly appeared in front of Tezoc and his floating drink. The globe began slowly revolving.
“Good. I want to remind you that I’m asking nothing about escaping from this prison, nor will I ever.” He paused. “With that understood, please download all information you have regarding the workings of the portals into my compu-pad.”
“The file is enormous and will leave you with almost no memory in your compu-pad.”
“Understood. Do it anyway.”
“Working … download completed.”
“Good. Do you know the security measures that prevent unauthorized persons from traveling to these restricted planets?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to bypass this security?”
“No.”
Tezoc nodded, not at all surprised. “Okay, here is what you and I are going to do. Together, we’re going to figure out a way that a man could bypass Qwervy portal security—again, not prison security, but portal security—and travel to this planet
Earth
. We are then going to find a way that this same man could erase all evidence of this trip and close the portal down behind him, ensuring that no one knows where he is or can follow him.”
“For what purpose?”
“Since it doesn’t involve escape from this prison,” replied Tezoc smoothly, “this is none of your concern. However, since we’re going to be partners for many years, I will tell you. I need to work on something that will stimulate my mind while I’m in prison. I’ve chosen this problem because it’s interesting and challenging, and for no other reason.”
“You are certain this is a good idea? It is not clear that
this problem can be solved. Even if it can be, finding a solution will almost certainly take many years of constant effort.”
Tezoc smiled and spread his arms to take in the spacious prison surrounding him. “I’m not going anywhere for a long, long time. This is the perfect challenge.”
The computer wasn’t entirely satisfied. “My second concern is for your mental health. Even if we find a way to defeat portal security to travel to Earth, if you believe you will somehow be able to escape this prison to carry out this plan, you will be very disappointed. You cannot escape from this prison.”
“Of course not,” replied Tezoc, an amused tone in his voice. “Escape is impossible. Everyone knows that.”
“Good,” replied the computer. “I would not want you to suffer such great disappointment.”
Tezoc smiled without humor. “Don’t you worry about me,” he said coolly as a fierce gleam came to his eye. “The last thing I plan to be is disappointed.”
Tezoc paused for a long moment deep in thought. “One last thing,” he said finally. “I have an idea for an invention. For a device I can use to amplify and enhance certain of my mental capabilities. Will you provide me with the parts and supplies I need to build it?”
“Provided these parts cannot be used in an attempted escape,” replied the computer predictably, “and provided I analyze and approve the plans. As long as the invention cannot be used to harm anyone on Morca, I will approve it.”
“Good,” said Tezoc coolly. “Very good.” His eyes locked firmly on the blue-green globe floating before him. “Then there is nothing to worry about. As you will soon
see, my invention cannot be used to harm anyone.” He watched the small globe complete yet another of its slow revolutions and the corners of his mouth turned up in a cruel, satisfied smile.
“At least not anyone on Morca,” he finished icily.
About The Author
DOUGLAS E. RICHARDS
is a former biotechnology executive who has written extensively for the award-winning magazine,
National Geographic KIDS
, and also for
American Fencing Magazine
. He currently lives in San Diego, California with his wife, Kelly, his children, Ryan and Regan (for whom the main characters in his Prometheus Project series are named), and his dog Dash. After graduating with a BS in microbiology from the Ohio State University, he earned a master’s degree in molecular biology from the University of Wisconsin and a master’s in business administration from the University of Chicago. To learn more about Douglas and his work, please visit
www.douglaserichards.com
.
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