The Prize: Book One (3 page)

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Authors: Rob Buckman

BOOK: The Prize: Book One
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"And why do we need to land on the particular planet?  Other than curiosity as to the gravitational anomaly?”  The Director gave him a chilling look, then tempered it, forgetting for a moment that the General didn't have all the facts.

 

"Do you know what drives the Empire General?" The Director asked in a deceptively soft voice, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised slightly in question.

 

General Tandy suddenly felt his arm pits get wet, suspecting a trap.  On face value, the question could be answered several ways, and he quickly settled on the most politically correct answer.

 

"Because our way of life is the best...” A slight shake of the Director's head was sufficient to halt him in mid-sentence.

 

"No General.”

 

While he spoke, the Director took something out of a draw and placed a small, flat metal box on the table.  After touching a button on top, carefully unscrewed the lid and moved it to one side.  The moment he did, a paper-thin disk of silver-gray material lifted out of the box, hovering several inches above the tabletop.

 

"It is this," he said, opened his hands like a magician showing his latest trick.

 

"I see," General Tandy muttered, not that he did.  He looked at the disk but saw nothing remarkable about it, other than it hovered several inches above the desktop.

 

"I don't think you do, General.  At enormous cost, our solar-sphere mining operation on 'Furnace' collects, refines and produce enough of this material to drive us to the stars.  This material gives us control over fusion power, lifts our ships into orbit, and gives us the ability to use jump point gateways, plus a host of other things.”  He paused for a moment as if to let the information sink through the General's thick scull.

 

“It also keeps our military forces, and the Empire expanding into new productive territories… and you employed."  He added, making it sound like an afterthought, but wasn't.

 

"Yes Sir.”  General Tandy felt the sweat trickling down his side despite the air-conditioning.  Silently wondering what was so captivating about a damn Cg disk?

 

Although hellishly expensive, and inferior to the one the Director had, you could purchase small contra gravity disks in any number of places, including toy stores. These contained a tiny amount of Cg material, and at best could just lift themselves a fraction of an inch above any surface, not several inches as this one did.  It was a good bet the disk the Director had was 80 to 90% pure Cg.  Once mixed with the right metal, and with a properly regulated power source it could lift a million ton warship into orbit and beyond to the stars.  Except for luxury ground transport for the elite, anything that once had wheels now use a small amount of this material in its chassis or frame.  From floor cleaning bots and toys, to trucks and mag-lift transport.  He brought his attention back to what the Director was saying.

 

"Without this, we would be nothing more than some warring backwater planet, like so many others out there.”

 

“What is so important about Cg material, Sir?”  Tandy asked in a soft voice.

 

“Simply this.  Our expansion into new, productive areas of the galaxy is strictly limited by the amount of this substance we can collect, refine, and incorporate into the hulls of our starships.”  The Director didn't try to hide the note of rebuke in his answer.

 

"Yes Director.”  General Tandy kept himself ridged in his seat.  It didn't explain the Director's interest in some nameless planet, or the expenditure of so many resources

 

“Just replacing ships lost in battle is straining the refineries to their limits,” as if reading the General's mind, “but you must be asking yourself what is the connection between this," he gave a slight nod toward the hovering silvery disk before pointing over his shoulder with a lax hand to another screen, "and that?"

 

The camera view changed and zoomed in to reveal a massive pyramid shaped building on the planet surface.  The building was so immense the tip protruded above the atmosphere into space.  Director Markoff waved a soft white hand at the data pad in front of the General.

 

"Over the past several months, Imperial Intelligence had put together a dossier of all available off-world evidence, and related materials concerning this planet and that building.”  The Director paused for a moment to flick some imaginary dust off his coat sleeve.  “Much of it is myth or legend and such, with fragments of religious cult worship thrown in for good measure.  Those we can ignore as wishful thinking.”  The Director didn't bother hiding the note of contempt in his voice at such ignorant thinking.

 

“In a nutshell, this building,” the Director nodded toward the image on the wall screen,” is proposed to have existed for several million years if we are to believe off-world history.  Maybe longer according to some documents.”  He let the words hang in the air a moment, hoping the General understood the significance of the time frame.

 

“It is also claimed by some off-world historians as having been built by an ancient race, one of, or maybe even the first intelligent species in this galaxy.”

 

“And where are these supposed super being now?”  For a supposedly intelligent Tellurian, General Tandy wondered for a moment if the Director wasn't losing his grip believing in all this brak shit.

 

“The documents indicated they have long since departed our dimension for another.”

 

As he spoke, Markoff carefully placed the lid over the silver disk.  He touched the button on top to hold the Cg disk in the capture field, and with a slight pressure pushed the lid down and screwed it shut.  Moving the box to one side, he placed his hand on a particular spot on the desktop, his fingertip caressed the smooth surface as if examining it for imperfections.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              "Why in the name of the Sainted Mother would these beings build something like that?”  General Tandy asked, nodding toward the holoscreen.

 

He felt out of his depth here, seeing no connection between the Cg disk, what the Director was saying and the holo of some strange building on an impossible planet. General Tandy pursed his lips in thought.  If the building is as old and as big as it appeared, why was there no damage to the surface?  The high-resolution images showed no discernible marks, or blemishes, such as meteor strikes, or aging on any of the four triangular surfaces.  General Tandy pulled at his lower lip thoughtfully, not believing what he was seeing.  That building was no more than fifty, maybe a hundred years old at the most.

 

"I am coming to that.”  The Director turned his chair slightly to look directly at the screen.  “Before crashing, our recon probes detected a staggering number of wrecked starships scattered about the surface.  It supports the documentation that this effect has been going on for an extraordinarily long time, maybe millennia as some claim.  However, we only have fragmentary evidence anyone ever succeeded in landing, or crash landing and live to tell about it.”  The Director's casual description of the wrecked starships was something of an understatement.

 

In some places, it looked as if the surface had suffered planetary bombardment by the number of craters scattered about the two large continental landmasses.  Yet, surprisingly, there were no craters of any kind near to the pyramid shaped building.

 

"If this was indeed built by some extinct race, the technology they employed would be light years in advance of ours.  Especially if they are able to drag starships out of space at that distance.”  Even General Tandy's limited imagination could see the possibilities of using such technology as a planetary defense weapon.

 

"True. However, there is a second overriding reason we wish to land and take off from that planet.”  He deliberately stopped, forcing the General to tear his eyes away from the screen and ask the obvious question.

 

"And that is Sir?"

 

"Our esteemed scientists repeatedly tell me that the only place we can obtain Cg material is in the photosphere of a particular type of star, a brown dwarf to be exact.”  Then he dropped the bombshell.  “Yet our analysis of the probes data tells me that, that building is composed entirely of Cg material.”

 

"Sainted Mother!”  General Tandy breathed, his eye locking on the seemingly innocent looking box for a moment, then back to the holoscreen.

 

“That would indeed be a very good reason to go there.”  The thought was staggering.  If the building was composed entirely of this material, whoever controlled it, and had the means to land and take off, could name his own price.

 

"If that wasn't sufficient inducement for us to expend valuable resources,” the Director continued as if he hadn't heard the General's comment, his attention more on the screen and the possibilities than his 'visitor'.   “Before they crashed, the survey probes reported massive deposits of Cg material all over the planet.”

 

"But…”  General Tandy did a slow double take, first at the Director, then the screen, then back to the Director.  “I believe you just said the only place to obtain Cg material, was from the photosphere of a brown dwarf?”  General Tandy felt his mouth go dry as the implications dawned on him.

 

"So my scientists keep telling me.  Even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.”  The Director's thin lips twitched in what some might suspect was a smile.  The General knew better, this man didn't know how to smile.

 

”However, what is not public knowledge is that we are collecting and refining less and less Cg material each year from our current production facilities.”  That was something he would rather not have told the General for many reasons.  Greed and ambition being the least, seeing the shrewd look on the General's face as the implications finally dawned on him.

 

"That alone would be sufficient reason to land, Sir.”  He murmured at last.

 

For a moment Markoff wondered if he should send the impulse to the sensor buried in the desktop.  All it would take is one thought, and the General would no longer be of any concern.  The ballistic armor under his uniform would be of no help whatsoever as few men think of placing armor under their butts.  The tiny dart buried in the soft seat would penetrate the General's uniform trousers and feel like no more than a pinprick.  In a matter of hours, he'd be dead from a massive heart attack with no one the wiser, but he stayed the thought.  The General still had his uses.

 

“At the moment we barely collect a sufficient amount for our current needs, let alone any proposed expansion program, or prolonged conflict.”  The Director’s face took on a pinched look.  “If the military, and political situation continues the way they are, it won't be long before the Emperor starts limiting its civilian use.”  He added.

 

General Tandy felt a slight shiver run up his spine.  If the Emperor, meaning the Director, thought of restricting civilian use of Cg material, things were in worse shape than he supposed.  That didn't bode well for the continued existence of the Empire, and his job, which concerned him more.  He shifted uneasily in his seat.

 

"That means that this planet, and the deposits on the surface is a prize of unimaginable importance to the Emperor.”  That was an understatement.

 

“We either have to find a new source, such as another brown dwarf, or find a way to land on this planet, mine the material, and take off again, General.”

 

The Director stopped for a moment and leaned back, wetting his suddenly dry lips with the tip of his tongue.  The look on the Director Markoff's face caught General Tandy's eye.  It reminded him of an expression he seen, and probably had on his face when he was younger, that of teenage boys looking at a particularly lovely young woman.  It was almost sexual in nature, and something of a shock to realize that the Director did have emotions after all.  The old fart had a hard on for the planet, or more correctly for the Cg material on its surface.  Even the Director's voice sound low and husky as he continued.

 

“My experts estimate that between the material contained in that building and the recorded surface deposits, we could sustain an expanded ship building program for the next thousand years.”  Markoff felt his heart rate increase at the prospect.

 

“If this gravity effect is controlled from within that building, why not put a guided missile with a low yield nuclear warhead into it and destroy the control mechanism?”  It seemed the easiest solution to General Tandy.

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