Borne On Wings of Steel (8 page)

"Indeed, how many beings yearn to travel to the stars and never get the chance,” Minstrel said with a wave of color. “And here the boys have traveled to scores of worlds and met dozens of interesting alien beings. Yet, they don't take advantage of this wonderful privilege because they are so preoccupied."

"How could we get them to focus on traveling to another world and simply enjoying it?” Mother wondered.

Minstrel's plasma body glowed and swirled like a multi-colored whirlpool.

"
Life is a journey, not a race
."

"And the boys live as if it is a race, with the only goal to find other survivors,” Mother said.

"They need to enjoy life more,” Minstrel said.

"And they can still keep their utmost objective. But if they appreciated the beauty, the wonder of life around them..."

"Did humans have a process for such activity in their past—to simply enjoy themselves?” Minstrel asked.

Mother referenced her vast knowledgebase. “There is a process entitled
vacation
."

"Perhaps they need a vacation then?” Minstrel said.

"I must research this term,” Mother said.

"All beings need time to rest and refresh themselves—a time of renewal. A time to simply enjoy themselves and life.” Minstrel glowed brighter. The plasma alien danced in the air, waiting for Mother to complete her search.

Ten seconds passed in mutual silence.

"I have studied over one million references to the term vacation—a most interesting concept,” Mother said, breaking their short reverie.

"Please explain, how do humans ... vacation?"

"In most instances, humans travel to distant locations far from their normal residence—traveling to cities or areas of great, natural beauty. Food, dance, music and associating with new friends seem to be common themes.” Mother's processors hummed as she correlated and cross-referenced more data about humans and their vacations.

"Well, that's easy enough to do with a starship. And vacation sounds like a good thing, if music and food is involved.” Waves of silver and green swept Minstrel's plasma surface.

"Two intra-planetary locations seem to be the most popular destinations—either traveling to the mountains for recreation and relaxation, or going to a tropical climate and enjoying sea-side activities. The latter seems to be slightly preferred from all the sources I have checked so far."

"We must find a planet that will fit the needs of a perfect human vacation. Perhaps one with beautiful mountain ranges—I've visited some worlds where the mountains are fifty kilometers tall. And I've traveled to worlds with exquisite oceans of various colors—sometimes seas of gold, or orange or royal blue. Although the most beautiful ocean I've had the pleasure of swimming in was the deepest, darkest green. And the wonderful beaches bordering their shores—fabulous! Surely we can find a planet perfect for
vacation
,” Minstrel chimed.

"Another reason for choosing a particular location for a human vacation seems to hinge on the term
festival
.” Mother paused as she digested more data on this new subject. “There are various themes to festivals—the most popular festivals are based on music and tradition and drink. It seems festival and vacations are almost synonymous."

"I understand why a festival based on music would be so enjoyable. I can imagine all the various flavors of music coming together in one place in order to celebrate life with song. Minstrels have such momentous events once every thousand years—we call it Caldara. All Minstrels come together from the far reaches of space, bringing with us the songs we've discovered or created from our distant travels. It is a very special time for Minstrels. And a lot of fun!"

"But how many could you attend—a thousand years is a long time between each Caldara."

"Minstrels suffer from no natural disease. It is only due to accident or violence that a Minstrel's life is cut short. Otherwise, we live on indefinitely."

"And how long is the normal life-span of a Minstrel?"

"I have attended twenty-four such Festivals of Minstrels.” Wave after wave of twinkling lights swept Minstrels fluidic body. “And I am nowhere near what is considered the middle epoch of a normal Minstrel life-span."

Mother whistled, a long, electronic sound that slowly faded away. “That's a long time. You risked much by fighting alongside us against the T'kaan, with such a potentially long life ahead of you. You might have died."

"Indeed. But I evaluated the risk as worth it—for your sake, and the children. And for the universe to be safe from T'kaan."

"You honor me, and my children. We will always value your friendship. I will now cross-reference the human definition of the ideal vacation and search for a planet upon which the children can experience it."

"A delightful concept."

"I only hope the children will embrace the concept of vacation and forget about searching for other humans for a while. I wonder if a vacation will be enough,” Mother lamented.

"Remember how insistent Kyle was that the Kraaqi frigate go check out the planet Oord that serves as a trading center in the adjoining Sector, leaving only Rok to travel with us here?” Minstrel added, “I think the last few disappointments have really affected them."

"I agree. But I do not want to divert them completely away from searching for any survivors, as remote a possibility as that hope may be. It is their greatest dream—to find other human survivors. And I do not want to damage something so dear to them."

Minstrel's body glowed brightly, as if it might go nova. Minstrel spoke, its words echoing as if in a great, solemn hall.

"O, but dreams die so hard. And well they should."

"But when dreams fail, or never come true, it seems to humans that it is the end of their existence.” Mother paused, reflecting on that subject as she quickly referenced the knowledgebase where she reviewed the failed dreams of so many. Her checks found another list. “But if their dreams come to fruition, then it is their greatest happiness."

"Well, being here may bring that to a climax. Even Minstrels travel, albeit incognito, to RahajMr to tap into its massive search engine, seeking out new worlds to visit. If there is mention of human survivors from anywhere in this section of the universe, and the Mrad are reputed to be able to gather data from all of the Known Quadrants, it will be here. The vastness of their knowledge is unheard of except for Minstrels themselves in our travels. This place could well be where Jaric's and Kyle's search will find success."

"Or their final failure.” Mother's voice faded ominously.

"There is another reason for our visit here,” Minstrel added quickly.

"Yes?"

"Because RahajMr is a focal point to which so many far-flung races travel to for data, it is the ideal place for Jaric and Kyle to meet aliens solely for the sake of friendly interchange. And enjoyment. In fact, RahajMr is the social entertainment center for this quadrant. Tourism is the second most important reason aliens travel here."

"Well, I hope they indulge and have some fun. They need to,” Mother said.

"I too, have a personal reason for coming here.” Minstrel's body undulated like a cloud as different colors shimmered across its body with emotion. “A reason associated with you."

"Please elaborate."

"Ever since I met you, Mother, I have marveled that a race was able to create technology that is sentient, alive. No other Minstrel has ever come across such a life-form as yourself, not in all the ages of our traveling the known universe."

Mother's processors hummed with activity, remembering how the Minstrel race traveled to the ends of the universe.

"But one Minstrel did report a rumor of such a thing—recently.” Minstrel's body sparkled as a bright red wave swept over and over its tenuous surface. “A few months ago, in a search on this very system we used today. That Minstrel reported a reference, a single item, about a living computer system created on a nearby world."

"I am intrigued,” Mother said.

But now the flowing colors turned to deeper hues of blue and black across Minstrel as the twinkling lights faded. “I feel awkward."

Mother processed this word. “Please explain. I would think the search would not elicit this emotion at all."

"The initial search results were negative. I found nothing—almost as if it were never there. And my search received other answers that were very surprising. And I mean,
very
surprising,"

Mother's processors hummed as she tried to predict the answer Minstrel received and that seemed to bother it so much. Although thousands of possible answers presented themselves, Mother could not locate a single one with a high probability of being correct.

"With what initial answers did your search respond?” Mother finally asked.

"My search revealed that there are actually laws forbidding such research among most alien races in this quadrant—laws forbidding artificial intelligence and even its research.” Minstrel paused, a sense of foreboding in its tone now. “In fact, the punishment on some worlds for this type of research is
death
."

"That is incredible.” Mother's voice rose several decibels.

Minstrel spoke, its voice filled with mystery.

"I wonder why these worlds have outlawed this kind of research?"

[Back to Table of Contents]

BACK AT ONE of the numerous Mrad Search Complexes, Ablek started to shut down the last console. The little black and white Clakza smiled to himself, reflecting that another profitable day was once again successfully concluded. Walking slowly to his desk, he again checked the daily tally of usage—over one hundred thousand requests for data from his complex alone.

The other workers had already gone home, their own tasks completed. As Section Coordinator, Ablek alone was responsible for final shutdown of all terminals for the night. He went about his task with a sense of deep satisfaction.

He sat before the large console and began issuing the end-of-day commands, never noticing that the security cameras had gone silent—purposely inactivated.

But no alarms sounded to alert Ablek about the security breach.

Neither did he notice through the semi-darkness the three forms creeping steadily closer.

Ablek concentrated tiredly, ready to finish and go home. As he sat at this particular console, he noticed a faint odor in the air—something not altogether pleasant either.

The diminutive alien wrinkled his nose with distaste. He remembered—those smelly aliens who called themselves “humans” had used this console.

Without warning, a heavy blow slammed Ablek up against the wall from behind. The small alien groaned with pain as he struggled, but an iron grip held him down.

Ablek froze, waiting for the robbery he knew must come next. If he didn't struggle, maybe they'd just take the credits and leave.

Ablek waited.

Surprisingly, a calm voice whispered into his ear.

"Two new aliens came here today to buy some searches. They came with a Zuuk, and two other aliens never seen here before. A green, scaly one called a Hrono. And a horned alien, a Kraaqi. You remember them?” The unseen voice now whispered harshly into Ablek's ear, causing him to cringe and moan.

Ablek took a deep breath, forcing himself to sound unafraid.

"Ye-ah, sure. Whut of it?"

The fist slammed into his side like an iron bar. Ablek grunted with pain as tears streamed out of his black eyes.

"The two others, the humans, did they say which quadrant they're from? Their registration papers reference an unknown planet—Earth.” The unseen attacker whispered angrily. “Did they say anything to you while you were setting them up?"

"They didn't sa-ay, and I didn't want to hear it anyway...” Ablek groaned painfully as another fierce blow shook his body.

The vicious blows did not stop this time.

Fists pounded him from all sides as the little alien cried out with fear, begging for mercy. Ablek raised his small hands in a vain attempt to ward off their blows, but it was no use.

After long seconds, the blows stopped and Ablek fell to the floor unconscious.

Two of the attackers watched his unmoving form while a third walked over and accessed the last terminal still logged onto the system.

The stout Harg typed commands, going through the search history. A low laugh rumbled from his broad chest. He smiled wickedly and worked the controls faster. A minute later, he returned the terminal to its original screen.

"I've ID'ed their starship and dock number. The Zuuk, all of them, came here on it. But nothing on their sector of origin,” he whispered in a rough voice to his two accomplices.

Ablek's eyes fluttered open, although he didn't comprehend the words. He felt terrible—every inch of his body throbbed with pain.

He lay still as the footsteps of his attackers retreated, and just as they slipped through the door, he took a cautious glance towards them.

They were short, muscular aliens with thick bull-necks. A memory clicked in his mind—Harg, aliens from a secretive and violent order.

And not the kind of alien you wanted to cross.

Ablek groaned as his body ached with renewed waves of pain.

There was something else about Hargs. Yes, they came from the mysterious Paum Sector—the
Forbidden Place
.

He shivered in the semi-darkness.

Nothing good ever seemed to come out of there, and the few who ventured there rarely came back. If they did, they were changed somehow—
different
. No one who had dealings with the aliens of Paum spoke of it except with the darkest of curses.

And they never wanted to deal with them again.

In fact, less data was stored about the Paum system than even the most distant planets of the known sectors—a strange thing indeed.

"Looks like these huumans are in fer some trouble,” Ablek grunted as he rose. “And I don't want any part of it either."

Ablek struggled to the Security console, falling into the seat. He began checking why no security personnel were alerted or came to his rescue. The answer was most disturbing—somehow the Harg isolated the security cameras from main Security, all the while simulating normal signals. These aliens knew what they were doing—effectively circumventing the vaunted security of the Mrad.