The Trilisk Ruins Part 1

The Trilisk Ruins.

Michael McCloskey.

Prologue.

Kirizzo fought while curled around himself inside the round control module. In this position he looked like a mottled ball of gold wrapped in dozens of thin legs. At his mental command, a salvo of antimissile drones shot out of the belly of his metal walking machine. The drones circled as they ascended, forming a defensive perimeter in the spiny alien trees. It wouldn't be long until the enemy war machines returned from the last diversionary trail and found his real escape route.

The spider-legged walking machine shot forward through another group of trees and came to a halt in a slight depression in the landscape. A warning in his mental interface informed Kirizzo the walker's stored power waned. And those had been the last of his drones. A thin layer of cells covering his a.n.a.log of a spinal cord pondered his next move. The decision arrived with a cool clarity: Abandon the walker and try to lose the robotic hunting machines in the alien forest.

Kirizzo felt immensely lonely. There were no others of his race to help him now. He was undoubtedly the only Gorgala within many light years. Nevertheless he did not waste time lamenting the situation. Kirizzo's electronically augmented mind gave a command that caused his walker to open, allowing egress. Uncoiling his flexuous body from the control nest, he flowed out of the walker on a quick stream of thin legs.

Kirizzo took stock of the alien forest. His world was utterly silent, as he lacked any sense of hearing. He felt resistance where his spiked legs met the surface. Dead plant spines covered the ground, causing it to give slightly as his sharp legs sank in.

Bundles of fibers under a flat, wide protuberance rising from his body fed Kirizzo signals from light that impinged upon them. These organs allowed him to see the native canopy of frills and spines above that shaded out most of the sunlight. The smooth hulls of trees rising upwards surrounded him.

Kirizzo moved his upper protuberance side to side rhythmically, collecting information about the ma.s.s densities in all directions out to his sensory range. From this, Kirizzo constructed a mental ma.s.s-map of his surroundings in three dimensions. The tree roots, trunks, and limbs formed a dark web in Kirizzo's mind. There weren't any threats within his sensory limits, but that was little comfort. Most Bel Klaven weapons could strike from great distances.

He deployed a personal screen, a group of floating metal defense modules that followed his every move. Four of his forty limbs held guided projectile launchers. He used these to shoot four seeker bullets into the sky, where they patrolled for the Bel Klaven machines that hunted him. Then he burst into the forest, his legs a blur, mapping his route well ahead using his ma.s.s sense.

Kirizzo topped the next rise and was deep into the forest when the first of the hunting machines penetrated the drone defense to a.s.sault his abandoned walker. The ground shook and the sky flashed momentarily as one of them blasted the walking machine. The robotic Bel Klaven constructs were not very smart, but they made up for that drawback with firepower and numbers.

Kirizzo hoped the machines would stop to investigate the wreckage and leave him to slip away in the cover. He moved on tirelessly, churning through dense foliage. He descended another ridge and up its far side.

Suddenly ma.s.ses whirled around Kirizzo rapidly. His personal defense modules intercepted three hunter-seeker projectiles and destroyed them before they could embed themselves in his exoskeleton and explode. Smoke filled the area and debris flew about, ricocheting against nearby trees. The close miss caused a chemical release of stimulants in Kirizzo's body. For Kirizzo, this was fear: his legs twitched, his vision became sharper, and his mind raced.

He launched four more seeker rounds into the sky and continued on course. Back in the walker he had detected a power emanation in this direction. A power source meant some kind of civilization, which presented a chance for escape.

Long seconds pa.s.sed until Kirizzo sensed something in the forest ahead. An artificial construct. He perceived it as a large uniform sh.e.l.l of ma.s.s covered with natural growth. He didn't have time to hesitate. He ran forward to get a view of the site.

An opening beckoned beyond a thick covering of vegetation. Only his ma.s.s sense allowed Kirizzo to detect the flaw in the sh.e.l.l of the building. Kirizzo pushed aside the plant growth and entered the breach. The building interior contained complex machinery that had begun to degrade once exposed to the elements. Mud covered most of the floor. A layer of dust clung to the old machines. A few light-starved plants struggled to exist amidst the wreckage. In the center of the chamber a huge circular tube rose from the floor.

Kirizzo determined that the large white tube descended in a spiral, leading deeper under the surface. The tube was empty as far as he could detect. There was no other way to go except down or back out into the forest. Kirizzo's race had its origins in subterranean lairs, and so the choice was perhaps as instinctual as intellectual.

Still quite aware of the looming pursuit, Kirizzo scuttled into the tube. He made his way rapidly down, searching for the end of the pa.s.sageway.

After five or six complete revolutions, the smooth white walls came to a terminus at a circular portal that seemed to be the barrier of a blackfield. No detectable radiation came from inside the circle, and he guessed that it was a security gate.

Kirizzo was familiar with technology mastered by his race for a field that would allow pa.s.sage of EM radiation in one direction only. These were often used for controlling entrances to important facilities. From beyond the blackfield, the defenders of the complex could remain hidden but still detect intruders approaching.

But this time, more than his sight remained blocked. Kirizzo could not feel any ma.s.s behind the portal. This would not be indicative of an active defense in a security checkpoint of his own race since it was important in Gorgalan warfare to have many points of constantly moving ma.s.s to confuse the ma.s.s sense of attackers. With many ma.s.ses in motion, it became difficult to mark enemy positions and attack them.

Kirizzo became aware of the threat of possible attack from beyond the portal but continued toward the circular blackness anyway. As he neared the flat plane of the blackfield, he still couldn't detect any ma.s.s beyond. This was a very eerie feeling. It reminded him of the first time he had approached the outer sh.e.l.l of a s.p.a.ce cruiser and felt the emptiness beyond the bulkhead, reaching out as far as he could feel, cold and unchanging.

There were other situations in which the ma.s.s detectors of a Gorgala could fail. Ma.s.sive physical trauma, the effects of certain sonic weapons employed by his race in more primitive times, and certain illnesses were known to deprive his kind of the ma.s.s sense. As far as Kirizzo knew, however, it could never happen selectively like it did beyond the strange inky blackness in the circle. Still it was consistent with the blackness. Whatever had created the portal didn't want any information about what was beyond to come out.

Kirizzo wrapped up into a ball to consider his options. Usually the ball position made him feel safer, but it was quite inadequate this time. By now it was quite probable that the enemy had detected the building. He could run out now and hope that the Bel Klaven servitors thought that he had gone deeper inside. On the other hand, it might be safer on the other side of the field. It certainly didn't seem to be safe out in the forest. His exoskeleton could withstand a vacuum for a short time if it turned out that the area beyond really was completely empty.

Kirizzo uncoiled his long body and approached the gate on forty nervous legs. He flicked a slender limb through the blackness and then retracted it. The leg was unharmed. Certainly a good sign.

Suddenly a small ma.s.s came clambering down the tunnel behind him. Kirizzo sensed its dense outer sh.e.l.l filled with some lighter material.

Probably an explosive drone.

Kirizzo bolted into the blackness and was swallowed by the portal.

Chapter One.

Telisa Relachik stood in front of the mirror in the transport station bathroom. The reflection showed a fit woman in her early twenties with straight black hair and a clear complexion. She wore a black business suit, a one-piece garment with a fake b.u.t.ton-up front that showed off the contrast between her slender waist and athletic shoulders. Her link picked up a service for an appearance evaluation from a microcomputer embedded in the mirror, and she considered running it. She had to look right for her interview, but she decided against running the service. She could keep her own counsel on her looks.

Still, she felt anxious. Her interview would be in person, instead of the virtual link interviews she'd already had. It shouldn't make any difference, but some trace of instinct in her felt more nervous about a real face to face.

It's not that unusual, she told herself. With the government ever encroaching on communications, probing the data streams with snooper programs designed to flag suspicious messages, more and more businesses were starting to protect themselves by conducting important meetings incarnate. It was an odd reversal back to old traditions, the rejuvenation of the real office.

One of the nightmares of the real office was the commute. Having to appear physically for a meeting proved time consuming and expensive. Already Telisa had spent a good fraction of an Earth Standard Credit, all charged through her link for public transportation.

Telisa found her way out of the station, buffeted by bodies moving in all directions. She inhaled the Colorado air. It smelled the same to her as on the coast, although it felt colder. She ordered an electric cab through her link and walked up to the curb. She looked over the sprawling buildings across the way. They looked pristine with an expanse of perfect gra.s.s. A cat sauntered out from behind a tree and dared to approach the concrete.

"Don't do it," Telisa warned playfully. The cat looked at her, then darted across the street.

Telisa raised an eyebrow. If the cat had a link, it would have been turned away from the street, but apparently it was feral.

"Never mind," she called after the receding feline in a singsong voice. A low hum announced the arrival of her cab. Impatient, she walked toward it as it slowed and moved to the curb. She slipped into the compact one-person contrivance and sent it a map pointer from her link. The engine whirred back to life and accelerated her back onto the street. Telisa thumped her foot and fidgeted during the ride. The streets seemed a little rougher here than in California. Perhaps a byproduct of the weather, she thought.

Finally the cab deposited her at Parker Interstellar Travels and charged her account. She dismissed it and walked up to a metal gate. Evergreens lined the road, hiding a low wall.

The estate looked sharp. A well-trimmed lawn bordered the house and the office, which were joined by a second-story walkway. She wondered if the gra.s.s was real. If so, it was wintergra.s.s, since it had doubtless already snowed a couple of times up this high.

The gate opened for her and offered her link a map to her interview. She saw the pathway in her mind, marked by a red line on a bird's-eye map. Kind of old fas.h.i.+oned, she thought. Most location finders these days just superimposed red arrows over a person's regular perspective view. Less chance of getting mixed up that way.

She followed the map through the front yard and into the building. She stepped through a spa.r.s.ely decorated atrium and towards the office that was highlighted in her mind. A man in a suit met her at the open doorway.

"Come on in, Ms. Relachik."

"Thanks. I appreciate you calling me in for this interview, Mr. Parker," Telisa smiled and followed the man into the office. He looked about forty, with short, straight brown hair. She thought his face looked a little rough and too thick set, but his smile softened it a bit. Telisa thought she detected a confidence in dealing with people.

"Please, call me Jack," he said. "Would you like a drink?"

"No thanks, Jack. Telisa. Call me Telisa, I mean," she said nervously.

"Okay. Just relax," he told her. "I can see why one might be a bit nervous for an interview like this. Hard times, I hear, for xenoarchaeologists," he said. "Please don't take that wrong. I'm not commenting on your current state, just the way things stand in general."

"That's true enough," she replied. "You must be interviewing many people." Telisa made the comment to probe about her compet.i.tion.

"No, actually you're the only one," he said, smiling widely and leaning back in his chair.

Telisa raised her eyebrow at him. "The only one? Why's that?"

"I've checked you out," Jack told her. "I read your stuff. I was impressed by what you had to say, and I think you're just what we're looking for."

Telisa just looked at him for a moment. "That's incredible," she replied, somewhat stunned. "I didn't know that my papers were being read by potential employers, unless I gave them out myself."

"I also know that you were rejected by the UNSF patrol, and that you've been speaking against their policies rather strongly." As Telisa bristled, he held up a hand and continued. "Please don't take offense at my probing of your personal business, Telisa. But you must understand my position. I can't afford to hire someone with connections to the s.p.a.ce force. As a private collector of alien artifacts, you must know that I'm sometimes... at odds with the government."

"You're a smuggler." It was a statement, not a question. If true, Telisa realized that meant Jack operated against the tight controls set out by the United Nations s.p.a.ce Force.

"I investigate alien cultures. I collect artifacts. If I do that without the government's permission, and you feel that makes me a smuggler, then you may call me that. But you're like me, in that you place your fascination of things alien above all else. That's why I know I'm safe in extending an invitation for you to join my team. This may be your only chance to get your hands on real artifacts, do real work, without being in the UNSF."

"That explains a lot," she said. "Like why a guide business is interested in hiring someone in my line of study. And why the real face-to-face interview." Telisa had checked the official disposition of the company before showing up. Parker Interstellar Travels was supposed to be an agency providing guides for hunting and tourism expeditions to undeveloped planets, as well as providing freelance mapping of faraway places for potential property buyers and planet information directories.

"Well, I think the job is a perfect fit. And I don't think you'll find a better opportunity anytime soon because of the shutdown on harvesting new artifacts," Jack said. "Officially, we have a side business of trading artifacts that were found in past years, all registered and found to be harmless by UNSF inspectors, of course. On the record, your expertise is needed to help us avoid the rampant fraud by identifying real items from fake ones."

"Looks like you make a good living at it," she said, pointedly taking a look around the room. The office was lavishly furnished, and there were a few artifacts in the room sitting on the desk and the bookshelves. "I a.s.sume I'm supposed to point out that this Talosian on your desk is fake?"

Jack smiled. "I was hoping that you might notice that, yes. How could you tell, without even picking it up?"

Telisa grabbed the fake and squeezed it in her slender hands. "Talosian stuff is always concave. They made everything thinner in the middle of the piece than at the top, unless that would make the item functionally useless."

"Ah yes, of course. That's very observant of you. The job I have to offer, though, is considerably more exciting than merely identifying fake artifacts in our offices."

"Is the money good?"

"The money can be good, if you know what you're doing. But I'm not trying to lure you with money, Telisa. I'm guessing that the chance to get your hands on real Trilisk artifacts is more of an incentive."

"Trilisk artifacts! How could youa""

"I can. A lot of them, and ruins that no one has been to yet. You'd be breaking new ground, and who knows what we can find? Get back to me and let me know your decision, but make it quick. I can't sit on this for long, and the expedition is going out very soon."

"I'm interested. But I'll need more details to make my decision," Telisa said.

Jack nodded. "If you link in, I have an information package ready for you."

Telisa activated her link just by thinking about it. The device in her head connected with the office computer and received the file that Jack had referenced so that she could look it over later.

"The position starts at 4200 ESC per year," he told her. "And your duties, outlined in here, are as I've already mentioned."

Jack paused for a second, then continued.

"Your real duties, however, include advising my team on the probable function and value of artifacts we find, as well as helping us identify and navigate alien facilities. We have limited cargo s.p.a.ce, and so I have to be choosy about what to bring back. Also included is a small personal cargo allotment for anything you might want to recover for yourself."

"How shall I contact you?" Telisa asked, somewhat overwhelmed by the suddenness and enormity of what he offered.

"Voice is fine, my numbers are in the brief," he said simply. "If you have additional questions of a mundane nature, just send them along and I'll answer them quickly. If you have more delicate questions, about your actual role, then please just come back in, no appointment necessary, and I'll answer them before you give us your final decision."

"Thank you, Jack. I'll get back to you tomorrow. I trust that's not too late?" she smiled, half joking.

"That'd be fine, Telisa. If you decide to come on, we can meet again and discuss our first expedition."

"That sounds great. Thank you."

Jack escorted her to the door, and they shook hands again. Telisa left on a high of new ideas and possibilities.

Jack watched Telisa leave with a hop in her step. He could tell that she would have to digest this for a while to absorb all the implications. She would be full of questions tomorrow.

Thomas was in Jack's office as he walked back in. His friend was taller and thinner, wearing a worn leather jacket in contrast to Jack's impeccable business suit.

"Jesus, Jack, you have b.a.l.l.s. I can't believe you just told her all that. The daughter of a UNSF captain."

"I know what she thinks about the patrol already. She never talks to her father, the whole family has been permanently fragmented. It's so obvious that it couldn't be a trap. The UNSF would never select someone so obviously connected to the military to be a spy. Besides, I didn't admit to doing anything illegal, just alluded to it."

"Well, I hope you know what you're doing. Don't let her good looks cloud your judgment."

"I won't. But she does look even better incarnate than her pics on the net," Jack replied. Telisa had surprised him with her long black hair and slim figure. She had smooth, almost perfect facial features and a good smile.

"Shall we take precautions anyway?" Thomas asked.

"Everything looks good, but let's stay in practice. Follow her and keep monitoring her link."

"You better pack your bags in case this all goes wrong."

"It won't come to that. She's one of us. I know what I'm doing."

Telisa spent a sleepless night in contemplation of her opportunity. She needed a job. So far she had spent her adult life as a parasite, producing nothing for herself, her family, or society. And now someone had approached her offering the very thing she sought. And in her field.

But Jack had been very straightforward about the fact that what he was doing wasn't quite on the level. How could he trust her? How could she trust him, knowing that he was into illegal trading of artifacts?

Artifacts that she desperately wanted to find and investigate for herself. What did the stupid UNSF think it was doing, anyway, trying to keep her from the legacy left by dead races for the whole universe? She hated the s.p.a.ce force, hated her father, and didn't give a rat's a.s.s about their oppressive laws. But she could end up in trouble, handling illegal artifacts, even helping to bring them to Earth or other developed planets.

In the end it was the Trilisk artifacts that convinced her. Or so she told herself. She wouldn't do something crazy just out of sheer boredom, would she? The lure of adventure was strong to Telisa, who had led a sheltered, purely academic life. But mostly it was the Trilisk artifacts.

The Trilisk were advanced almost beyond human understanding, and the few artifacts from that race that were in human hands were enigmas of the highest order. If Telisa could get her hands on enough Trilisk items to achieve some kind of critical ma.s.s of understanding, she could become the foremost human authority on the lost race. Understanding such an advanced race would surely have an impact on the way future humans would live.

She wanted to be a part of that discovery, bringing about those changes by unraveling the mysteries of the Trilisks, or other alien cultures for that matter. What could be more fascinating than the devices left behind by dead races, beings that didn't share anything with humans except intellect and the ability to create tools?