Galactic Axia Adventure 1: Escape to Destiny (15 page)

“The computer you see here is several thousand years old. After being stored and forgotten for much of that time, it was discovered and donated to the museum. We have spent many years researching the history of the unit and restoring it to operation.”

The guide produced a photograph of an old man with long, unkempt white hair, wrinkled face, and little round glasses perched on the end of his nose.

“First designed and built by Doctor Frustratus Murphy,” she continued, “this invention represented a major leap in technology. It took him almost fifteen years to perfect the design and make it operational. Numerous times during its development, Dr. Murphy was faced with nearly unsolvable problems, many of which were beyond explanation. His diaries document many instances where everything checked out but nothing worked. The temptation to quit was a constant companion to Doctor Murphy, but he was determined to complete the work. As he wrote in his diary—‘I’m going to finish this thing if only to inflict it upon the rest of humanity!’” A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd of listeners.

“The construction of this computer used the latest electronic components of its day. Instead of the circuit components we are all familiar with, Dr. Murphy had to use several thousand glass bulbs filled with inert gas and heated to effect the flow of electrons,” she said as she pointed to a glass panel that had been installed on the front of the computer. Through it, her audience could see dozens of the glass bulbs lighting the inside of the machine with their orange glow.

“As you may have noticed, it is slightly warmer in this alcove than anywhere else in the museum. The heat generated by this computer is enough to warm the entire wing and would render the computer inoperable unless we constantly cool it with conditioned air and control the humidity level.”

“Why does it take so many people to run it?” a small voiced asked.

“Actually, it only takes one person to run it. The rest are constantly monitoring the operation of the circuits and making adjustments to keep the circuits balanced. We had a great deal of difficulty making replacement bulbs, and with so many in such a small space, they tend to react in strange ways. Notes found in Dr. Murphy’s journals mentioned the need for extra staff to maintain the computer, so we followed his advice.” The guide paused and scanned the audience.

“Okay, we’re going to run a sample mathematical problem and I’d like for you to give it to me,” she said, pointing to a little brown-haired girl of about seven. The little girl looked frightened by the approach of the guide and glanced at her teacher with an alarmed expression. The teacher smiled at her and nodded.

The girl turned to the guide who had knelt beside her. After a whispered conference, the guide wrote something on a note pad, thanked the girl and stood up. She returned to her position at the front of the group and spoke to everyone present.

“Here’s the problem,” she said as she handed the note pad to another technician. The man copied the simple equation onto a blackboard: 33 + 41(x) = 279. He then handed the note pad to another technician who entered it into the computer by using an ancient keyboard. He typed for nearly a minute.

“Why is he typing so much?” asked a boy near the front.

“Because he has to translate the problem into the language the computer uses,” the guide answered. “The early computers couldn’t understand our spoken language, so they had to use a binary system.”

“It sounds like computers were more trouble than they were worth,” one of the teachers said.

“They still are,” blurted out Jake before he could restrain himself. His remark drew a smattering of laughter. The technician at the terminal signaled the tour guide he was ready.

“Terry says he’s ready to start,” the guide said. With that the technician pushed the enter key. The computer began to buzz and hum. Numerous lights flashed and the room temperature rose a degree or two. Somewhere a large ventilation fan whirled to remove the excess heat.

After a minute, a bell rang and a slip of paper ejected from a slot at the main terminal. The technician at the terminal took the slip of paper, read it, and chuckled. He handed the paper to the guide and signaled to the other technicians. Together they started checking the panels and meters on the computer.

The guide raised her eyebrows and went over to the blackboard. “I told you about the problems of keeping this thing cooled and the circuits stable,” she said. “Here’s why.” She wrote the computer’s answer on the blackboard beneath the problem. “x = peanut butter.” The audience broke into laughter.

“As you can see, the early computers weren’t very reliable,” the guide said, smiling. “I thank you for your interest. We’ll have another demonstration in about an hour.” The schoolchildren and adults alike broke into applause and then headed down the hall to the next display.

For the next couple of hours, Delmar and Jake went from display to display, each exhibit showing either a further development of computer science or one of the many strange failures. The later were more interesting to Delmar. Mr. Hassel had taught him that we could learn more from our mistakes than our successes. Several guides explained how the failures actually furthered the understanding of the machines and led to better working designs.

Near the end of the tour, they came to a display showing the picture of an elderly man named Ebilizer. A group of patrons had formed, so the guide present at the display began to speak.

“This display is dedicated to Mica’s leading computer scientist—Ebilizer. As the leading inventor and researcher in computer science that we have today, this man has helped Mica retain its place as the leader in computer development. This gentleman holds no fewer than one-hundred thirty-seven patents for original design work. Here is a brief biography of our leading scientist.”

The guide pressed the play button on a vid-unit and played a short expose on a display monitor. It covered the early years and projects of the scientist. It detailed the early years of the Ebilizer Institute on Shalimar and introduced the viewers to developments made the past few years.

“If you folks will please follow me,” the guide said when the display finished. He led them into another room. They found themselves in a mock-up of the Control Room of a space freighter. Wax figures of the Royal Consort, Captain Mophesto, and Empress Ane-of-Axia were there. Captain Mophesto was in the control chair, and his wife, Empress Ane, was standing beside him.

“You are now standing in an accurate replica of the bridge on the spacer,
Mary Belle
. As many of you know, this is the private ship registered out of Mica that carries the Empress-of-Axia and her Consort, Captain Mophesto. Installed in this ship is the latest technology developed by Professor Ebilizer, a self-teaching, self-programming computer. Through the sophistication of this computer, Ebilizer has made it possible for the first time in history for a ship to be flown from other than the control seat.”

Pausing for the Ooohs and Aaaahs, the guide continued, “Professor Ebilizer’s daughter, Mary Ebilizer, is permanently confined to a bed. Her father’s computer enables her to pilot this ship by remote control. Her cabin is over here.”

He motioned for everyone to a cut-away in the wall of the mock-up where they could see into a dimly lit room. A draped figure of a female with auburn hair lay on the bunk.

“It is by request of Mary Ebilizer that we keep her form draped and the cabin dimly lit,” the guide said. “She has graciously presented us with a portrait.” He pointed to a framed picture next to the cutaway. It showed a handsome woman in her prime. Auburn waist-length hair and a mischievous smile were her most prominent features.

“Mary Ebilizer is the licensed pilot of the
Mary Belle
and personally flies the ship for the empress and Captain Mophesto. She is renowned for her ability as a pilot and her academic skills in the sciences.”

The guide led them through what would have been the passageway to the upper mess of the ship. Many noticed the plaques on the cabin doors identifying the private cabins of the royal couple and the crew.

In what would have been the upper mess was a dark room lit with the stars as seen from above Mica. To one side was the planet Mica, its cities glittering like jewels on a velvet cloth. Suspended as if in orbit was a model of the
Mary Belle
,
painted in Mican royal blue. On the side was the royal star, signifying her as the private ship of the empress. Everyone was silent while they drank in the sight.

“It is a great honor that the empress flies a Mican ship,” the guide said proudly. “In recognition of his value to all the people throughout the galaxy, the empress has provided complete research facilities on Shalimar for Ebilizer to continue his valuable work. Captain Mophesto has set up a perpetual trust to endow the Ebilizer Institute with all the funds it needs. He has also gathered leading scientists from throughout the galaxy to work both here on Mica and at the Ebilizer Institute. The breakthroughs come on a nearly daily basis.” The audience murmured appreciatively.

Opening an exit door to one side, the guide continued, “We at the museum thank you for your interest and patronage,” he said. “As further developments happen with both computers and the chronicles of the
Mary Belle
, we will try to keep our displays up-to-date for your enjoyment and education. I do hope you’ve been pleased with our efforts. Thank you again for coming, and please return soon.”

The tour ended and the group applauded. With a last look at the model of the
Mary Belle
, Jake and Delmar followed the other patrons and exited the display. Waiting at the exit was an electric rail shuttle to return the group to the entrance of the museum. Jake returned the levitation chair at the museum entrance and he and Delmar walked the short distance to the transit station.

The twenty-minute ride home seemed much shorter. Delmar was lost in thought and spoke very little. At home, Sherry called the two to the table. Dinner was most welcome since the men had forgotten to eat lunch. Around mouthfuls of food, Delmar told Sherry all that he had seen that day.

Chapter Eleven

It was still early afternoon but the local watering hole was already busy with its regular customers. The noise in the bar did not diminish as a man of nearly thirty strode in. Hailed by friends near the back, he stopped at the bar for a bottle and then strutted toward the back, stopping along the way to take a long pull from the bottle. Flopping into a chair at the table, his friends hooted with delight as he took another long pull and downed a third of the beverage. Grinning at them, he came up for air. He belched once and stood the container on the table.

“Hey, Dorn,” one of his inebriated friends said, “what’cha doin' tomorra?”

“I gotta go to the social agency about that bratty brother of mine a'gin.”

“I thought you got that all took care of last time,” another replied, his words slurred and barely understandable.

“Thought we did too, but that nosey neighbor got another hearing, so we have to fight a'gin.”

“Then why don’t we just go take care of Mr. Nosey?” the first friend suggested, rising unsteadily to his feet.

“Forget about goin' out there,” Dorn said and pulled his friend back down. “That old woman of his is a crack shot and almost killed me the last time I was there.”

“Well then, we need to get 'im alone, don’t we?” one of the other drunken men added. “If she ain’t 'round to protect 'im, it should be pretty easy.”

“Yeah,” replied Dorn. “You’re right!” he slapped the man on his back. “If we jump him when he’s in the barn, she won’t be around in time to bail him out!”

“If some of us create a diversion at the front of the house, she’ll never hear you at the barn,” the second man said, spittle coursing down his chin and onto the front of his shirt.

“Then what’re we waitin' for?” asked the first friend. “Let’s get goin’.”

They all rose unsteadily to their feet, and with bottles in hand, staggered out the door. Soon two ground cars sped from the parking lot into the open countryside.

∞∞∞

Robert Hassel had just finished repairing the back fence and was on his way to the barn when he heard cars slowing on the road. Hurrying toward the structure, his mind raced ahead, concerned about what could be happening. He and Agnes had been a little jumpy since the trouble with Delmar’s brother some time back.

Entering the barn to drop off his tools, Robert’s eyes did not have adequate time to adjust to the dim interior. Suddenly, something hit him hard on the side of his head. As he rolled across the floor, he heard a rifle shot resound from near the house.

Robert tried to regain his feet but someone caught him in the jaw with a mind-numbing blow. Rolling again from the impact, Robert felt two men grab him from either side and hoist him to his feet.

Although Robert still couldn’t see his attackers, the rancid smell of stale alcohol was strong. He sensed someone staring at him nose-to-nose and felt the spray of spittle as the man spoke. “Old man, you better leave off causin' me trouble or you might not be so lucky next time!” the guttural voice said.

Robert’s mind whirled but he knew he recognized the voice. Someone punched him hard in the stomach and threw him against a wall. Slumped against the wall, he looked up at a shadowy figure standing over him just in time to see the barrel of a small caliber handgun aimed at him. He rolled to his left but not before he saw the flash from the barrel. A slug tore into his leg. Struggling around again, Robert saw the figure of Dorn Eagleman towering over him, the smoking gun still in his hand.

“I knew I recognized that voice,” he said. A vicious kick to his head sent Robert into unconsciousness.

Back at the house, Agnes pumped another round into the chamber of her rifle and maintained her aim on the driver of the first car in her driveway. With her sights trained on the man, she thought that Robert wouldn’t like having to fix another fence post. The driver just sat there with his hands raised while he stared down the business end of her rifle barrel.