Alien Deception (12 page)

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Authors: Tony Ruggiero

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Visionary & Metaphysical, #Fiction

BOOK: Alien Deception
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He began to pace slowly, thinking of how he could use this information. Turning to Greta, he asked, "Did Biom say what happened to the offspring? Did he say how many there were? Are they alive?"

"No, he never got the chance, but I believe he knew," she said confidently.

"Interesting," Leumas said, as he walked over to the window, looking out into the atmosphere in thought. "This certainly changes the rules of the game, doesn't it? Copolla must have realized somehow that I was getting too close to his secret because of my involvement with the Earth case. Yet he's the one who got me involved in the first place. Either he's pulling out all the stops, or he's gone completely mad."

Greta nodded. "I would tend to agree with your last scenario. What would you advise for our next step?"

"I think Copolla doesn't know that we learned this information from Biom. I think he believes he killed him before he could say anything. This could be our big break."

"How?" Greta asked.

"I've got to stay here to work on our two Earth subjects. I have to find out what kind of damage Biom's meddling has done," he answered. "But I want you to take a trip to the archives for me. Someone there may have information we can use. The librarian, an old man named Robise, and you can't miss him or, should I say, you can't miss his personality." Leumas smiled as he thought of the crotchety old man. "He's the custodian of the facility. I have a feeling that Biom may have compromised all of our systems here in some way. We can't afford to take any more chances by using more simulations so I am going to deal with the two subjects on a real time presence."

Greta's brows drew together. "Isn't that risky? Considering all the errors that have occurred? Council policy would dictate against taking such action."

Leumas felt Greta's concern. He nodded. "You're right, of course, but our options are running out fast. I don't feel that I have much of a choice at this point. And besides I've already started."

Leumas knew that Greta would not try to dissuade him. It would be an unwise use of time.

"I will leave at once," she said firmly as she turned and started toward the door.

"Greta," Leumas called, causing her to stop mid-stride as she turned back toward Leumas with her usual stolid look.

Leumas took the few steps to where Greta stood. He touched her shoulder and said with genuine concern, "Watch your back, my friend. I have a feeling this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better."

Greta said nothing, but her silence acknowledged the presence of their unspoken friendship. She gave Leumas a rare slight smile, then turned and walked away.

 

* * * *

 

Upon arriving at the archives, Greta wandered through the seemingly empty aisles of the facility searching for Robise, but found no one at all. She consulted a map of the facility; studying the layout, she tapped her finger on the map as she located the central processing area. She turned and set off in that direction.

Greta assumed that, if she could not locate the custodian, she could perhaps access the central database herself and attempt to retrieve the information she needed. One thing she knew for sure was if someone wanted to hide something in a vast facility such as this, it would be very easy.

Her steps echoed in the empty halls, reverberating in her ears, sounding like there were several life forms pacing her. She tried to walk softly, but the echoes disturbed her, causing her to look over her shoulder frequently. This business with Copolla, and Biom's sudden demise, was enough to give anyone the jitters. She kept replaying the vision of the flames which consumed Biom, leaving nothing but ashes. Ashes that were once the young and naïve Biom. She picked up her pace.

Following the directions on the map, she found herself exactly at the entrance to the central processing area. With mixed feelings, she saw that the door to the central core area was open. She frowned. Her eyes shifted to the sign posted to the right of the door: "This door is to remain closed at all times. Access by authorized personnel only."

Trouble,
she thought, frowning deeper as she felt for the stun weapon she was carrying under her jacket. Her fingers caressed the cold metal, and she checked to ensure that it was fully charged. Then, slowly, she moved toward the door, gun at the ready.

Stepping over the threshold, she crouched, quickly scanning the room, senses at a heightened level, prepared for trouble. Immediately, she wrinkled her nose as she sensed an acid smell. Looking around quickly, her eyes came to rest on a figure sprawled on the floor. Her hand tightened on the gun, and she knew she had to get moving before she became the next target or victim. She forced herself to secure all the other rooms in the immediate area before she went back to investigate the body. For the moment, it was not going anywhere. She filed the strange acidic smell in the back of her mind to research later; she didn't think it posed an immediate danger. She continued around the room, checking behind doors and under desks. Once satisfied that no one else was in the room, she returned to the body.

Kneeling down, she placed her weapon back into its holster. She touched the white-coated individual's wrist, but felt no pulse. The body was very cold, dead for quite a while, she surmised.
Must have died a painful death, judging by the expression of ultimate horror left on the face,
she thought. She peeled the white lab coat back, and was revolted by the seared flesh exposed below the neck area. It appeared to be a full blast to the chest cavity and at close range.

The person's ID badge had been seared by the weapon's blast. The only readable part that remained on the badge was a name, Robise, confirming it was the custodian of the archives Leumas had given her to search out for information. Greta exhaled, a long, angry sigh. "One step ahead of us again, Copolla," she said.

Greta rose from the body and stepped toward the central core. It was then she realized where the acidic smell was coming from. Whiffs of smoke rose from the central processing unit. The core appeared to have been totally destroyed.

An acid worm,
she guessed, wrinkling her nose in disgust. An acid worm was an actual living creature that exuded acid naturally. Once inserted into the core, it would worm its way through the system, secreting its dangerous fluid until there was nothing left. Then it would die quickly and disintegrate. It was one of the surest ways to ensure that every bit of data would be wiped clean, and only professionals could afford it.
A price Copolla could afford easily,
she thought angrily.

She reached for her communication device and accessed Leumas’ coded channel, sending a brief message summarizing this new turn of events. The message would take minutes to reach Leumas, slightly longer than usual because of the scrambled relays he had installed that would hamper any attempt to trace or intercept the message. The message complete, she pocketed her transmitter.

She prepared to leave, but suddenly stopped. She cocked her head to the side. "Was that a sound?" Greta murmured softly as she continued to listen. There it was again. A sound…footsteps…a person. Someone was coming!

The footsteps were approaching quickly. Greta turned, searching frantically for cover. She settled on hiding behind a large stanchion, which offered her a partial view of her immediate surroundings. Once again, she removed her weapon from its holster, trigger finger ready.

Endless minutes dragged by as she waited to see who the mysterious intruder was, and her thoughts drifted. The weapon she held had rekindled thoughts of her youth, growing up on Setam Seven where she had participated in many of the family plays that reenacted the great conflicts that had taken place on the planet Zire. There were specific ritual days of remembrance and celebrations held to honor those who had perished in the Great War. Millions and millions of life forms, whole species and cultures, had been lost forever. All this had occurred before the UCDW had come into being. Like everything else, though, anything was subject to change.

The footsteps came closer. They were almost on top of her now. She poised herself, finger still on the trigger, ready for conflict. Slowly, a shadow drew itself out of the darkness. It was shortly followed by the appearance of an old humanoid form, slightly hunched over. Deciding that the figure did not look ominous, and seeing no obvious weapon, Greta stepped out of hiding, weapon still at the ready.

"Stop right there," she yelled forcefully. "Now, tell me who you are and what you are doing here." She tightened her grip on the weapon in an obvious fashion to emphasize she would not hesitate to use it, but this old humanoid did not seem alarmed.

The man drew in a deep breath, and placed a gnarled finger on his chest. He stated simply, "I am Robise, the Custodian of this once unscathed establishment. Until these damn Council agents started running all through the place destroying my records."

Greta raised her eyebrow at the tone of the life form. She thought about the body nearby, and looked at him suspiciously. "You do look similar to the life form Leumas described as the custodian. But you cannot be Robise, unless you are the twin of the dead body on the ground in the next room," she said, pointing her weaponless hand in the direction of the body.

Robise smiled smugly. "That is, or was, I should say, my assistant, Toun. You see, I caught wind of his plan to help someone destroy the main computer core, and to dispose of me. I switched identification badges this morning before he arrived just in case. I took a gamble that whoever it was had never seen his accomplice in person. These Zireans today, they think they know everything and us old cronies don't have a clue. No offense," he tittered nervously, noticing that Greta's finger was still on the weapon's trigger.

Greta smiled wanly. "None taken. Please, continue."

Robise cleared his throat. "Well, the accomplices finally did show up. They looked at the identification badge, and killed Toun, thinking it was me. Then they proceeded to destroy the main core of the computer by releasing an acid worm into the system. Whoever they were, they were professionals. The squad of saboteurs was in and out in a flash," he finished, shaking his head.

"So you did nothing to stop them?" Greta demanded, nostrils flaring in anger.

"There was nothing I could have done and still be alive to tell you this!" Robise snapped. "Besides, I doubt that anyone else knows how to work the old core that I downloaded all the information to," he finished smugly.

"You saved the core?" Greta asked, surprised.

"What kind of historian would I be if I let some low life saboteurs destroy all I have accumulated and been entrusted with over all these years?" Robise placed his hands on his hips defensively.

"Sorry, I meant no disrespect," Greta said, with new admiration.

"None taken," Robise smiled. "I'm too old for this kind of stuff anymore." He shook his head and pointed toward the destroyed core. "Anyway, back to the core. I had an old one in storage, been meaning to dispose of it for years but, like everything else, I just couldn't part with it."

He sighed as if remembering his many years of putting data into the core, and continued, "After seeing what's been going on around here lately, I have spent the past several days downloading as much information as possible. There won't be any way to tell how successful the download was until I try to access the data." Robise glanced back toward Greta, taking note again of the weapon. "Now I need to find a safe place to store it." He showed her a device about the size of a small box, easily held in one hand.

Greta noticed how he held onto it tightly, almost as a mother would hold onto an infant.

"These thugs obviously had authority from high up and may be back to ensure they got everything," Robise said.

"True," said Greta, placing the weapon back into its holster. "The information you have managed to save may be of the most vital importance to the Council. I know where we can take it to keep it safe. Leumas has a secure area at his facility."

Robise looked at Greta and nodded his head in agreement to the offer.

"The faction that destroyed the main core is trying to discredit Leumas so that the Council will lose faith in him," Greta told him. "Copolla is losing control through his reign of terror and lust for more power. Leumas seeks reform and has been quietly working to this end. Copolla will stop at nothing to maintain his control."

Greta peered around, feeling uneasiness build in her, as it had earlier with the approaching footsteps. She said suddenly, "We should go now, while we still have the chance."

Robise again nodded agreement. They walked down the long, deserted hallways of the facility in silence, both in deep thought. Robise reached out and rubbed his aged fingers along the counters and walls, almost lovingly, as he passed. He acted as if it would be the last time he would see his archives. Greta watched him in a questioning manner.

Noticing Greta's perplexed look, the custodian explained, "I've been here my entire life. My father before me was the custodian and then I followed in his footsteps. He would tell me over and over again that you must be thorough in everything you do, and always have a backup plan. Always."

He continued to walk, staring ahead, remembering, "We would sit here and correlate all the data that came in. Sort it and place it away forever. At least that is what we had hoped."

"It is an immense responsibility," Greta said sincerely.

"Yes, yes, it is," Robise replied, his voice fading.

Unknown to either of them, perched above along a storage access catwalk, a lone shadow sat in the darkness. The figure was pointing a weapon directly at them, the sight moving back and forth. His dark-within-dark eyes peered at the image the laser sighted device produced. As his head rested against the stock of the gun, his lips parted in an evil smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

COPOLLA'S FAR REACHING GRASP

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