Deadly Voyage: Logan Ryvenbark's Saga, #7

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Chapter 1

Stretching out on the coastal sands under the two bright, yellow suns of Beta Five, I was thinking again of retirement. I extended my arm and reached for my beach drink. Astrid, on a large red towel, dozed off beside me. The green waves lapped softly at the shore, as if caressing the earth. The Beta Five oceans are green instead of blue like the oceans of Earth, but the sky is remarkably similar. More of a windy climate than my native Florida and, even though I was sweating, the planet had much less humidity than the Sunshine State.

I wiped the beads off my face and then spied a man wearing the burgundy uniform with the white trim of Morganthal Enterprises walking at a brisk pace. He left the small wooden walkway and stepped onto the beach. His large boots plunged a half-inch into the sand. He was about twenty yards from the walkway to Astrid and me. I met him halfway. Major Ryvenbark. I must ask you to accompany me, sir.

Where are we going?

To Nassau Mountain, sir. Ms. Morganthal has requested your presence.

"If she only requested my presence, a courier would not be needed. I’m guessing she demanded my presence," I said.

She asked that I first request, sir.

I’m sure she did.

Astrid had woken up.

She walked toward us, a blue towel around her neck. She still looked sleepy and yawned as she came up beside me.

What is this about? she said.

I have to go find out, I said.

I would have asked what the situation was, but I was sure the courier didn’t know. He was merely told to find me and yank me back to Belen’s office. I assumed this was some type of emergency, but I had no idea what it was.

Belen sparkled in her white suit, dazzling against the snow-covered mountains that stretched just outside her office’s picture window. For a second I felt ill-at-ease for the flakes of space dust that spotted my Raider blue suit.

She greeted me with a large smile.

Thank you for coming, Logan. Please, sit down.

She didn’t dwell on the usual apologies for interrupting my vacations, or ask about Astrid, so I thought she had to have something very serious she wanted to talk about.

I am putting together a small expedition to Vega, she said.

Then I wish you well. When you get back, look me up. I’ll buy you a drink and we’ll celebrate your good fortune in coming home alive. I paused for a moment, and my voice dropped. I sincerely hope you make it back, Belen.

Her steel gaze focused on me. I am putting together an expedition to Vega and I would like you to be on it.

No, thank you.

Are you afraid?

I thought for a moment, then nodded. Yeah. That enters into it.

She sniffed the air like a dog reacting to a bad smell. Nonsense, Logan. You’re not afraid of anything.

Then let’s say I’m cautious. Better yet, let’s say I’m intelligent. No intelligent man or woman goes to Vega. And nothing this side of a black hole could tug me toward that horrendous pile of rock.

My hand slipped into my jacket pocket and brought out a packet of thin cigars. I inserted one in my mouth and lit it. I took a deep puff and blew out dark gray smoke.

Is that all? She gave a curt smile. Would money influence you?

Might. There’s a chance, but only a slim one. How much money are we talking about?

One million dollars.

That took my breath away. This could be the occasion for me to retire; no more battles. This could be my one last mission.

Belen leaned back in her chair and smiled. I took another puff on the cigar. You know, those things used to be bad for you, she said.

So is a trip to Vega.

I bit into the tobacco and leaned back in the chair. Being genrich meant that my IQ was at the genius level. But that didn’t mean I knew everything, or that events couldn’t continue to mystify me.

Belen, why in the world would you want to go to Vega? It’s not a vacation hotspot. A million is tempting, but even then I’m going to refuse.

She walked over, reached her fingers into my pocket, and pulled out the cigars. She shook the package. When a cigar popped up, she stuck it between her teeth. She motioned to me and I lit it for her. Her first puff blew mentholated smoke into the room.

Let me show you something... She then raised her voice. Jaclyn, would you come in please?

A door opened in the far wall and a tall, young redhead walked into the room. I caught my cigar as it almost fell from my mouth. The young lady had long, lustrous hair. It reflected the light so that momentarily I thought she had a reddish halo around her head. She looked at me with dark green eyes. The skin was flawless, the milk-white complexion looked immaculate. It had to be natural. No machine was that flawless. Her figure, rich and abundant, would have made robots wish they were human, or at least male. Her smile radiated warmth. I blinked and stood up.

Belen was not an ugly woman. She was quite beautiful. But she paled in comparison to the stunning redhead. Yet the young lady’s beauty was not the major thing that impressed me about her.

This handsome gentleman is the one I told you about. Logan, meet Jaclyn Astor. Jaclyn, Logan will accompany us to Vega. Doesn’t he look distinguished? That deep black hair. She walked over and ran her fingers across my jaw. The black beard stubble. Gives him a ruggedly masculine look, doesn’t it? And a dangerous look.

The redhead walked up and offered her hand. Her smile convinced me life was not only worth living, but worth celebrating.

On the contrary. Mr. Ryvenbark looks rather sweet.

On impulse I didn’t shake her hand, but brought it up to my mouth and kissed her fingers.  

Thank you, Miss Astor. It’s been a long time since anyone called me sweet. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been called sweet.

I certainly wouldn’t use that term, Belen said.

Looking at such a beautiful woman, I wondered how the thought nudged into my mind. I was tempted to kneel before her, as a loyal soldier would to a queen.

Please call me Jaclyn.

Call me Logan. You are going to Vega?

Yes.

Jaclyn, I don’t think Vega is any place for civilians. Well, it’s not a place for anybody.

She smiled. Perhaps not, but I need to go.

Don’t be impressed by his alleged sweetness. He is much too old for you, Belen told her.

How old are you, Logan?

Usually it was rude to ask someone’s age, but the voice held such curiosity and naïve affection that it was impossible to take offense.

One hundred and eighty-six. But I look a lot younger. People tell me I don’t look a day over one  hundred and twenty.

Jaclyn laughed and looked at Belen. He’s not only sweet, he’s witty, too.

Yeah, he’s a laugh a minute. Would you please excuse us, Jaclyn? There are other things Logan and I need to talk about.

Of course. She moved away and walked back toward the door. She opened it and disappeared.

I had my cigar clasped between fingers. Belen grabbed it and stuck it back between my lips.

You can close your mouth now. What do you think of Jaclyn?

I’ve never seen anyone like her. Joan of Arc must have given off such an aura. Or maybe the biblical Eve.

Yes, there is an innocence about her, isn’t there?

And a strength.

Of course. Innocence has strength of its own. Innocence does not mean weakness.

I shook my head. Is she Synthetic? Artificial?

Belen gave me a quizzical look that, roughly translated, meant ‘How could you be so dumb?’

Of course not. Humans, for all of their flaws and vices, are the only ones who can be so... virginal. No Synthetic or Artificial could project that. That’s one of the traits of the human race. We can be evil and we can be saints.

She’s close to the latter.

Yes, she is. Speaking of saints, thank you for coming with us to Vega.

I haven’t said yes yet.

I know you, Logan. In addition to the sweetness Jaclyn detected, you have your own type of innocence and a chivalric ethic. You’re a White Knight.

She leaned back on the desk and stuck the cigar in her mouth. So how many men will you need?

Wait a minute. There—

Besides, there’s another reason to make our voyage.

Ever sought a career as a travel agent, Belen?

No, I already have a full-time job.

She went behind her desk and rolled the chair out. She wheeled it right in front of me and sat down. What if I told you that at one time there was a highly advanced civilization on Vega? Now it’s beneath the wind, ice, deserts, and storms, but it was more highly developed than any current civilization we know. It had exceedingly high-tech weapons — more than enough to wipe out evil races such the Creagers the next time they attack a peaceful planet.

I rolled the cigar around in my fingers. Belen, I trust your word. You’ve never lied to me. So when you say something, I assume you know what you’re talking about.

I’ve never led you astray, have I?

No, so I will just ask once. Are you sure?

She nodded. Ninety-five percent sure. There’s always the unexpected and always a slight chance of error. But ninety-five percent is pretty good odds.

Yes, it is.

She reached over and touched the beard stubble. So how many men do you need?

About a dozen. If I go.

There’s one other reason you should join us, if you need one. You can make the most unique and amazing discovery in the history of man if you come with us.

Just how would I do that?

Have you ever seen anyone like Jaclyn? I’m not changing the subject. One question is directly related to the other.

No, I haven’t. There is something about her presence. A type of human magnetism. It’s like goodness has a power and it exudes from her.

Exactly, and you know why she’s like that?

Have no idea.

She leaned over and stared directly in my eyes. Her lips moved close to me and she whispered. She is an Aristolan. She has never fallen and her race has never fallen. They are the humans we were meant to be. The Adam and Eve on Vega never sinned. They are perfect in body, in spirit, perfect in DNA. They are, to use a word never used today because we’ve forgotten what it is, righteous.

Belen paused for a moment, then whispered again. Do you understand the implications for mankind?

I nodded, although I wasn’t sure I did.

So... 

I let the word hang in the air for a minute. So... perhaps I will mosey along to Vega with you, after all.

After a time of silence, I sat back and matched her steely gaze with mine.

Have anything to drink?

She snapped her fingers. Edward, get Mr. Ryvenbark a drink. What would you like?

Whiskey sour.

Whiskey sour, Edward.

A pale figure in a dazzling black and white butler uniform had come into the room. He walked to the bar, mixed a drink and brought it to me.

Tell me he’s not a Synthetic, I said.

No, he’s a robot.

Good.

You don’t like Synthetics?

No, they’re treacherous. You can’t trust them.

Then I’m glad I don’t have any around.

I sipped my drink. A half-dozen men might be enough. But I’d prefer twelve. How much time do I have?

The Aristolans don’t have much time. I’d like to leave in two weeks.

I raised my glass to her. In two weeks I can get you the toughest, smartest, meanest grunts in the galaxy.

Edward brought her a drink. She smiled as she sipped the liquor.

So what are our chances if you have your tough, mean colleagues with you?

Of surviving Vega? About ten percent.

She raised her glass and clinked it against mine. Only ten to one odds. That’s not too bad.

A few minutes later she escorted me into her command center; high-tech computers, scanners, military equipment, communications. There were three large, color-filled screens. Belen’s homeworld was on one. Her current planet of residence was on another, and a third screen showed what Vega looked like. An ugly place.

A great deal of the planet, at least the northern half of it, was covered in blue ice. The polar regions had grown and invaded the three continents. All had long stretches of blue that slowly faded and became a light, then a dark, green. Below the equator, there were two vast forests, hot, humid, and deadly. A large desert stretched above and below the equator on one of the continents.

Belen tapped a computer. Betsy, this is Logan Ryvenbark. Say something, Logan.

Hello Betsy, how are you?

Fine. And you Mr. Ryvenbark?

So good I can hardly stand it. Please call me Logan.

I shall, Logan.

Betsy, if you would, please respond to Logan’s voice as if he were me. He will be asking you questions about the planet Vega. She tapped the computer again. I have all the information there is on Vega which, to be honest, isn’t all that much, stored in Betsy. She can also send out any communications you need.

I nodded. The civilization you say exists, where is it?

She flicked her hand at a screen and a circle of green marked a small area on one of the continents. The area was south of an ocean. A green circle was surrounded by angry blacks and reds. Traveling a thousand miles south, another red circle was drawn. This one was in a midst of dull yellow.

The green spots are where the civilizations were buried, and I mean buried. The top one is where the Aristolans are located. The circle below is a desert. A few miles underneath are cities and whatever else is left of a race that might have ruled the galaxy for centuries. A rather enlightened race, we suspect.

Who is ‘we’?

A few scientists and other experts I engaged. They all signed confidential agreements. I wanted to keep it secret. We didn’t have a chance to do a first-hand inspection, mind you. There was no one walking around the planet, and certainly no one below ground. We sent in probes and some were able to penetrate the surface.

She tapped on a computer and her finger showed up on the screen. The nail rat-a-tat-tatted the upper, smaller green circle.

There are other cities here, we believe ‘here’ meaning way below the surface. Belen tapped the green spot inside the red again. We believe there are two races on Vega, and perhaps more. Our probes did not go all over the planet. We aimed for very specific areas. The Aristolans are centered here. From all indications, they are rural in nature but not primitive. No advanced technology, though. Comparable to Europe in the 1400s. Before industrialization. Their weapons are only spears, swords and arrows. Although they are a peaceful, enlightened race, they need those weapons.

That’s surprising. Until now, science offered no opinion on whether the planet was populated. Because of all the bad weather, it was assumed all sentient life, if there ever was any, was dead.

Until now, science paid little attention to the planet.

That was true enough. At the Academy I did my dissertation on the history of Florida, my native state. Back in the 1950s, it was still a sparsely populated place. A highway ran down the east coast and through the middle of the state, with starts and stops along the west coast. There was a small road running from the coastal town of Vero Beach west. Ultimately it crossed a state road heading to Orlando. Thirty miles before the crossroads was a little shack of a town, where nobody went, called Yeehaw Junction. Not really a town, just a few buildings. It was the ultimate out-of-the-way place. Vega was the Yeehaw Junction of the galaxy.

The Aristolans are surrounded by a more hostile race we named the Molochs.

I looked at the gold cross around her neck. Biblical reference?

Yes. I thought the name fit. Think of Genghis Khan and his hoards. They seem almost subhuman and they are determined to exterminate the Aristolans.

So you want to do a rescue mission?

She shook her head. Yes. If the Aristolans have preserved, or at least kept the technology from previous civilizations safe, we can at least help them out a bit.

OK, we can save the race. But would it be better to land in the desert?

Not really. There’s no guarantee the Molochs wouldn’t attack there, too. They control the rest of the planet and they are not neighborly.

Well, since we don’t have an army, it might help to have the Aristolans on our side.

That was my thought. And in return, we can provide them with some help. They are hopelessly outnumbered.

I sighed and lit another cigar. It was a great comfort that cigars actually benefited smokers nowadays instead of releasing toxins.

You have security forces, Belen. How many men will be coming with us?

She didn’t hesitate. About a hundred.

Trained?

Not as well trained as Logan Ryvenbark and his private crew, nor as well trained as his friends Commander Cleed and Lt. Jade. But my men are competent and courageous.

OK, Belen. But tell me this. I know why I’m going to Vega. I know why you’re going. Jaclyn is going because...?

She’s going home. She was born there.

Chapter 2

Three days later, the robo-car swirled around the mountain peaks again and deposited an old acquaintance at the house. The robot servant ushered him into my temporary command headquarters. He had black hair, a mustache, and a wry grin when he saluted.

I understand you need a master sergeant, he said.

I answered with my own salute.

I sure do.

I stuck out my hand and he put it in an iron squeeze. "How