Space Trader (Galactic Axia Adventure) (19 page)

Just as he was about to give up he caught indications of a carrier wave on his equipment.

“Got it!” Ian announced. He tried to triangulate where the point of origin might be on the surface of the planet.

“Pull up a surface display on the auxiliary monitor,” he directed Lyyle. “This signal won’t last long!”

“Coming up now,” Lyyle said as he hastily adjusted the controls.

“Peg our location above it,” Ian ordered. “I’m sending you the vectors that I’m receiving now.”

“Coming in...” Lyyle started to say.

“Lost it!” Ian snorted as the tight beam signal stopped.

“I think I managed to get it anyway!” Lyyle replied happily.

“Plotting in the target area now,” he added as he worked with the data coming in from Ian’s transceiver.

“There he goes,” Ian observed as the Red-tail ship started to move. “I’m taking us outward on the same tangent to the surface. We don’t need him finding us by simply bumping into us.”

With quick motions, he moved the
Express
higher away from both the Red-tail ship and the planet below. Moments later, the Red-tail started moving higher, also in a move almost mimicking Ian’s efforts on the
Express
.

“Hang on!” Ian said unnecessarily. He rapidly accelerated yet higher. Only upon later reflection would he understand why he had said it.

When they had been going over plans to install the Optiveil on the
Express,
several unknowns had cropped up. Sony had wondered what the Optiveil would do to the inertia-canceling effect of the drive system of the
Cahill Express
. Even though their earlier test hops had not detected any interference, in the back of Ian’s mind it was still possible. Fortunately, everything worked fine.

Through the front windows, they could see the planet falling away as the two ships shot away from the surface. Ian was seriously beginning to wonder if they had been detected since the Red-tail ship was still keeping pace with them.

“He’s changing vectors!” Lyyle announced from his station. Simultaneously, Ian could see the Red-tail ship veer away and resume his original heading. In seconds, it was a rapidly shrinking blip and then it was gone.

“That was close!” Ian exclaimed as he brought the
Express
to a stop. “Where are we now?”

“Still more or less on the signal vector!” Lyyle announced happily. “Reverse your heading and I’ll direct you back to where we were.”

Ian spun the axis ball and then nudged the throttle bar. The
Express
obediently moved closer to the planet while Lyyle continued to watch his equipment.

“Give me a little warning,” Ian said after a few seconds had passed. Knowing they would be getting close, he slowed their velocity.

“Coming up on it now,” Lyyle replied. He held a hand up. Ian slowed the ship. “Closer... closer... there!” he snapped as he closed his fist. Ian brought the
Express
to a stop and let it hang there in space.

“How’d I do?” Ian asked from the control chair.

“Close enough at this range,” Lyyle answered. He worked his equipment a little more. “Feeding you the coordinates now.”

“Got it,” Ian said when he saw the data appear on his navigational display. Pulling up the image of the planet below, he superimposed the target area on it. A glowing circle of approximately five miles in diameter appeared on the display.

“You sure about this? That’s a pretty small area from this range.”

“Best I could do with what you gave me,” Lyyle said with a grin. “If I’d been able to get a better vector on his signal, I could have refined it further.”

“Impressive,” Ian admitted. “And you say you’ve never worked with tight beam equipment before?”

“Never,” Lyyle said as he stretched a kink out of his back. “But it isn’t that much different from some of the relay equipment we developed back on Vogel. You just use higher frequencies and have different ways of keeping the signal from scattering. Not bad for a ground-pounder, eh?”

Ian just shook his head and then turned his attention back to the display in front of him.

“Are you ready to go do some poking around?”

“If you’re waiting on me, you’re late,” Lyyle offered with false humility. “How long do you think it’ll take to cover that area?”

“It could take hours,” Ian said, studying the display. Lyyle looked dejected.

“Don’t worry,” Ian assured him with a grin. He moved the controls and the
Cahill Express
started its decent toward the atmosphere below. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Chapter Seventeen

The attacks continued,
the text read,
and still the large ones did not answer.

Ert paused reading the ancient human texts to ponder the implication. Here was irrefutable evidence that humans and Horicons had interacted, albeit indirectly. The chronicler of the texts had obvious knowledge of the Horicon, but how had that come about? The Horicon had never been able to travel in space, and these humans had been planet-bound as well.

Digging through all the texts available to him, Ert searched for references to both the Horicon and Red-tails. The later was easy to find. Roughly a generation before this planet had been razed by the Red-tails, the attacks had begun. When the Red-tails found that these people were helpless to defend themselves from space-borne invaders, the attacks stepped up in intensity. After that, the actual invasion had begun and the entire human population of the planet killed or taken captive for later consumption. Ert had read similar accounts in the history of the Axia. Only cosmic weapons and large fleets had stemmed the invading tide unleashed many centuries before.

The only references Ert was able to find concerning the Horicon themselves were very few and usually by inference. Clearly, there had been a technological leap by these humans during an otherwise slow plod upward from barbarism. Prior to that leap, their advancement, especially concerning space, was virtually nonexistent.

Ert realized this would require further investigation. There were simply too many gaps to establish a coherent explanation of why this far-flung and backward branch of humans knew of the Horicon. That they were wiped out by the menace that the Horicon had helped unleash on this galaxy added a particularly bitter ending to their civilization, and stirred up a guilty sensation in Ert’s internal self.

∞∞∞

“What are we going to do now?” Lyyle asked as the
Cahill Express
sped through the darkness of space.

“I think we might have better success back on some of the other planets,” Ian said while he double-checked the navigational settings of his ship. Satisfied, he turned the autopilot back on and stood, stretching a bit. He then headed back to the galley to fix himself a cup of tea. Lyyle joined him but he prepared coffee.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better fix than I did,” Lyyle apologized again, “but it was the best I could do with the signal we received.”

“To tell the truth, I think they were actually down there somewhere,” Ian replied as his tea maker finished its work.

Taking their cups, Ian and Lyyle headed back to where they had the navigational data displayed on a separate monitor. Ian thought about the two hours they had spent doing a close scan of the target area and shook his head. Such were the vagaries of life. Lots of hints, and even a few ghost signals, but no Red-tails.

“So why didn’t we find them?” Lyyle asked.

“Because they were masked by something,” Ian said. “I know my sensors. It would have to take a lot of rock or something similar to hide the energy signatures that I was looking for.”

“Or maybe they weren’t there at all.”

“Then explain why that ship signaled the surface with a tight beam,” Ian came back. “Believe me, you don’t waste technology like that just to pass the time or talk to a bunch of butterflies.”

“Let’s say you’re right,” Lyyle began, “and that we might have more success at one of the other planets. That they aren’t masked or hidden in some way and we find them. What do you plan to do then?”

“That remains to be seen,” Ian replied slowly. “It depends on what we find. Even though we are able to remain hidden, we are still only one ship. We have to balance the wisdom of taking direct action against getting this information back to someone who can more effectively handle this problem.”

∞∞∞

“What have you been up to, my friend?” Professor Angle asked upon entering the computer lab.

“I’ve been researching those texts you set up for me,” Ert replied through one of the console speakers. “There appears to be significant gaps in the records.”

“You noticed that too?” the professor quipped as he sat down at the main console. Pulling the keyboard over to a comfortable position, he logged into the system. “Which gap seemed to be the most egregious?”

“First of all, there is a serious lack of information of how long humans were on that planet out on the rim,” Ert said. “It would seem they were there many generations before your Axia had effective space travel.”

“I noticed that too,” the professor agreed. “It is possible that they were a forgotten colony established during the Axia’s first surge into space.”

“That is possible. However, their low level of technology would seem to contradict that premise.”

“Isolated colonies tend to regress,” the professor answered. “It’s happened countless times before.”

“Was there any evidence of a higher level of technology in the diggings?”

“My friend has noted they have not found any,” Angle answered. “Their development seemed to be fairly straightforward.”

“With the odd exception that they wrote their chronicles in the Horicon language, was there any indication that they had any other language with which they communicated?”

“Yes there was,” the professor answered as he finally started typing. In quick order, the files on the archeological dig appeared. “Note these passages here,” the professor added. In a flash Ert assimilated the information.

“Why would they have two languages?” Ert asked. “It seems inefficient.”

“Many human civilizations have more than one language,” the professor answered. “Most often a planet has diverse nation-states, each with its own language and sub-dialects.”

“But that doesn’t fit what the archeologists found,” Ert commented. “Their culture seemed to be monolithic planet wide.”

“The appearance of the Horicon language does seem to be sudden,” the professor said as he pulled up yet more files. “And it appears in parallel to their native language.”

“Exactly where were the records found?” Ert asked. The professor scanned his files before answering.

“They were uncovered in one of their major cities. Why do you ask?”

“Only that one location?”

“So far. They haven’t excavated the entire planet but these records were only found at one place.”

“Anything else unique about that location?”

“From what they’ve found, it would seem that it was likely their preeminent site for technological development,” the professor answered.

“That would parallel something else I found in your human records.”

“And what would that be?”

“Cargo cults,” Ert answered.

“I’m not familiar with the term,” Professor Angle said as he pushed back from the console. “Enlighten me.”

“In your human history, when a technologically advanced civilization came in contact with and overwhelmed a lesser advanced one, it would have severe social consequences for the less advanced people,” Ert said. “When that contact would be terminated, things would not return to normal. The less advance people would miss the technology of the advanced visitors.”

“So what’s that got to do with, what did you call it? Cargo cults?” the perplexed professor asked.

“I was getting to that,” Ert answered. “Quite often the lesser advanced people would try to imitate the technology of the visitors, usually in an effort to entice the visitors to return. The natives would even build ships and aircraft made of wood or other natural materials in their effort to imitate the visitors.”

“And how does this apply to these humans we’re discussing?” Professor Angle asked. “There was no evidence that these people had any interaction with a more advanced branch of humanity.”

“I noticed that as well,” Ert agreed. “But the visitors don’t have to be human to have influence.”

“So who were the visitors?”

“The Horicon,” Ert answered.

“But the Horicon were planet-bound. You gave us vast chronicles yourself of the futile efforts to take the Horicon into space. Are you now telling me that they somehow succeeded?”

“Not the Horicon themselves,” Ert answered, “but their technology.”

“Continue,” the professor prompted.

“What I am proposing is that somehow these humans came in contact with one or more Horicon probes.”

“There were enough of them,” the professor agreed. “Do you have any records showing where they were sent?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Ert answered. “Remember, my main purpose was infrastructure, not exploration.”

“So you’re saying these people found a Horicon probe and were somehow able to utilize its technology? That’s quite a leap of logic.”

“Compared to other examples in your human history, not really,” Ert said. “Horicon probes were basic and rugged. If a civilization were ingenious enough, they could quite easily reverse engineer the Horicon technology.”

“Then explain their use of the Horicon language?” the professor challenged.

“That is where the concept of a ‘cargo cult’ comes in,” Ert answered. “They clearly extrapolated knowledge of the Horicon from the probe as indicated by their reference to ‘the large ones’ in one of the texts. What I am hypothesizing is that they were trying to contact the Horicon in their own language. After the Red-tails started attacking, these humans reference actively trying to contact the Horicon for help and protection. There is no reference to having received a reply.”

“Why would that be?”

“Not having direct records of that, I can only surmise,” Ert answered. “By that time in the Horicon history, there was an aggressive effort underway to hide the planet from the Red-tails. That they would not reply to such a call would follow with the policy of hiding in effect at the time.”