Aurona

PROLOGUE

White … blinding white. A translucent brilliance of crystals swirled in the air, obliterating the horizons. As daylight washed across the strange landscape, the small planet’s hot sun made both temperature and wind rise rapidly. Out in the middle of this vast plain of nothingness, the vague outline of a lone figure stirred and then disappeared under the rapidly accumulating drifts of powder.

A gloved hand lifted weakly. With great effort, a young man rose to one elbow and raised his head. His helmet glinting brightly in the cruel sun, he stared into a blank void: land and sky had merged as one into a total whiteout.

As his consciousness slowly returned he took in a few shallow breaths, wincing at a painful rattle somewhere deep in his chest. His mind swirling, he began to go through the possibilities, trying his best to reason it out: yes, that was it, his rebreather unit was malfunctioning. Struggling to remember the controls, he activated his head-up display with a few muttered commands. A bright schematic lit up, his e-helmet rotating on its axis, the inner workings showing transparently. As the back came into view, he drew in a sharp breath. Oh no, he scowled. "Where’d that huge dent come from?" Just under the surface, the transfer membranes of his life-giving cyborg lungs were laid out in millions of delicate, atom-thin sheets. Looking like a dark bruise in the center, a large section had been mashed out of commission.

With a groan of frustration, he scrolled quickly through a glowing tapestry of readouts. Almost alive and self-aware, the tempered thermoglass auto-darkened to let his eyes focus on the words. You’re kidding, he muttered, it’s way below fifty percent capacity? He coughed, this time tasting blood. Fighting a wave of panic, he forced himself to take shallower breaths. Suddenly, two lights blinked on. His vision was beginning to swim as he struggled to focus on a pair of small, flashing bar graphs crawling relentlessly up the side of the screen. The temperature was rising at a phenomenal rate and the pedometer revealed that he’d wandered close to seven miles.

Huh? I-I don’t remember walking anywhere…. He shook his head in confusion. "And speaking of where, where in blazes am I? He cleared the display to look outside and recoiled at the overwhelming brilliance. Whoa! Way too much light! Using the helmet’s alternate chin pad sequence, he tapped down the intensity. Better, he muttered, but what’s all that awful, screeching static in the background? He cupped a gloved hand over his earpiece and immediately got his answer: the howling storm of silica crystals had been hissing against the audiodomes, amplifying into a deafening roar. Scrolling quickly through a few more menus he found ‘Audio,’ and then tapping his chin decidedly, he clicked it off. Silence washed over him like a sheltering blanket. Ahh, thank God. Maybe now I can think!" Stiff and sore, he pushed up with his elbows.

Something seemed to be holding him back. Huh? He tugged on his arm again, testing. Yes, it was definitely caught on something. Digging with his free hand, his probing, gloved fingertips felt something like a thick steel cable looped tightly around his wrist. His heart hammering, he cleared away the white silica powder to look closer. Frosted with crystals, a sinewy gray-green coil was wrapped tightly around his wrist.

"What in the world is this thing? Some kind of a snare?"

He braced his feet and yanked upward with all his might. Nothing moved: the cable felt like steel. "I’m-I’m trapped? No way!" He clenched his teeth and pounded on the coil with his free hand, his labored breathing rattling loudly. Suddenly an annoying buzzer sounded and a warning light pulsed a harsh neon yellow, dead center in his head-up display. Crud! He panted. Rebreather’s totally maxed out now. Gotta calm down, gotta think rationally.... His head swimming, he paused to catch his breath, his gloved hand resting lightly on the coil.

Unexpectedly, there was a shudder under his fingertips. As he jerked his hand away, the coil started to undulate, tightening, loosening and writhing like a serpent. "It can’t be! He gasped, his heart thudding loudly. Th-this thing’s alive?"

The buzzer was now howling. He gritted his teeth in the din, the back of his head pounding viciously and his vision swimming from the lack of oxygen. No, no, he gasped. Please, not now; I can’t black out now! Gotta conserve energy or I’m a goner!

Steeling himself and gathering his wits, he forced his body to calm down, to lie absolutely still. Shortly, the coil gave a final shudder. It didn’t seem to be pulling him under; it just lay there, clamped tightly around his wrist. He exhaled, sweat running down his back in rivers. Waiting a few more scorching minutes, he nervously rechecked the bar graphs again. Both the e-helmet and suit were blistering hot, well within the dreaded red zone: he had to do something, and do it quickly.

In a flash, it came to him. Moving slowly, deliberately, he began to shovel out a deep, body-sized depression in the soft silica. It didn’t take long to open up a good-sized pit. He slid down carefully into it, pulling handfuls of the powder over him. Yes, it was definitely cooler in the hole, blissfully cool. With the howling wind assisting, it didn’t take long to get completely buried. With a series of voice commands, he sent his rebreather’s twin-tubed snorkel snaking up to the surface to scavenge the thin atmosphere’s limited oxygen/nitrogen content.

As absolute quiet enveloped him and the pain in his head ebbed away, he began to vent, his eyes tearing up in frustration. "So some kind of creature’s got me trapped, but where? Where in blazes am I? How’d I get here? The gravity’s weak, so I gotta be on a fairly small planet, but how…? There seemed to be an insurmountable wall: no amount of logic or reasoning could cross it. And what’s wrong with me? I-I can’t remember a thing! He squeezed his eyes shut. Was it that blow to my head?" He struggled to piece something, anything together, but to no avail. With a shudder of resignation his exhausted, battered body finally gave in.

He slipped away. Distant memories of his childhood poured in like a great wave flooding his mind, followed by visions of a torrid jungle, torrential rain, and swirling mists….

Chapter 1: THE GALAXY ROOM

Driving sheets of rain were blurring the peaks of the distant mountains. The odd, jagged ring of spires had eroded almost beyond recognition over the eons, but still guarded their hidden world: a lush, flat plain of fertile volcanic soil several miles in diameter. As shadows dimmed, a deep rumbling shook the earth. The chattering jungle creatures grew still, apprehensive.

In a rush, a storm spilled into the caldera of the dormant volcano. Flashes of neon slit the leading edge of the clouds, deafening peals of thunder bellowed out of the darkness, and a moving wall of wind and rain caught the palms broadside, bending them like supple dancers.

The deluge was over in a few hours. With stifled growls, the storm clouds reluctantly slid their long, black cloaks from the distant watercolored peaks. As the eternal tropical sun burned a great hole through the swirling vapors, a sudden, breathtaking shaft of light focused downward onto a muddy stream swollen far over its banks. The skies grew clearer, late morning mist lifted to the jungle canopy and stillness settled in with the heat of the day.

Far away, over the rush of cascading water, the effervescent melody of a child’s laughter embellished the thunder’s deep, rolling bass. It drew closer, weaving a brightly colored thread of sound through the hushed gray-green tapestry. Vibrant, alive, the cheerful echoes resonated strangely out of place in the lost valley; indeed, man hadn’t seen this part of the island continent in centuries.

Strange sounds began to come from the tangled underbrush: an odd, static crackling and a low electrical hum. Puzzled, the creatures listened intently. An apparition slowly materialized in the shadows: silently, furtively, gliding a few feet off the ground, a bullet shape with two figures on it poked around a primeval-looking tangle of cycad palms. The soft, rhythmic staccato sound of wet branches slapped against a sleek, hard surface, and then stopped. The shadowy bullet shape rotated toward a large clearing.

Suddenly a string of blue lights fanned out along its sides. In a whir of motion it veered, accelerated, then darted out into the open. Flashing brilliantly in the sun’s spotlight, its vibrant electric blue hull blazed to life with the startling iridescence of a morpho butterfly.

Ple-e-e-e-ease! The excited squeal of a young boy ascended upward into an impossible, stratospheric register. As the sled whipped through another hairpin turn he begged again, this time reaching a high C sharp. The creatures ducked for cover.

No way-y-y! The boy was thrilled and chirped in delight as he held on tightly, his wet, tangled hair flying. His eyes watered up in the wind, making the lush, flowered landscape blur even more. Grandpa, he teased, where’d you learn to drive?

The old man chuckled to himself as he sat hunched tightly over the controls, maneuvering intently with a set of small, ultraresponsive thumb steerers. The sled’s response rate was far better than he’d ever hoped; it seemed to slice through the jungle’s tangle at almost the speed of his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder at the boy. Roller coasters had always thrilled him: the faster the better. To push the envelope, he hatched up a quick maneuver to feed his grandson’s need for speed.

Feigning alarm, he threw his hands up in mock helplessness. Oh no! Wait, what’s this? There’s something wrong with the controls! The sled stopped, spun 360 degrees, and then quickly resumed its breakneck speed.

Just as he’d hoped, Adam was impressed. Wow! How’d you do that, Grandpa?

He chuckled mischievously. Ever hear of preprogramming? Six seconds to figure out the maneuver, three to lock it in, and one to punch the button!

The boy’s slow, silent ear-to-ear grin was worth the effort. The old man slowed down, leaned back, and scanned the controls with satisfaction: they were floating along on incredibly sophisticated hardware, once unthinkable fantasy confined to the realm of a visionary’s dreams or a theorist’s tinkering.

Antigrav, Adam! Who’d have ever figured that an ordinary sphere of polished lead might hold the key? Hey, since our big breakthrough last fall, we’ve had nothing but fun, fun, fun, right?

The mop of wet, tousled hair nodded enthusiastically.

Whoa, hold on! Could that possibly be…? The man abruptly stopped and stood up in the sled, shading his eyes in the glare. Yes, there it is, the triple mound, dead ahead! Let’s get the coordinates. He glanced into the sky and then back to his wrist programmer to do a few quick calculations. Perfect! Quick, quick, grab the maps! They’ll all be distracted! We’re right on time for the release!

They leaned against each other, peering up into the cloudless sky. Yes, there it was, an unbelievably bright, shining dot, even at this time of day. As the boy dropped to his knees to rummage around for the maps, the old man punched a series of buttons on a small transmitter.

Slowly, majestically, the massive triangular satellite swept by in its endless loop, streaming out a powerful band of encrypted chatter. TriNight had officially been in orbit one year to the minute. Down in Mission Control, its guidance crew was busy celebrating, oblivious to a series of carefully orchestrated, yet stealthy mechanical movements that were starting to show on the monitors behind their backs.

Out on the tips of each of the satellite’s three arms, small half-cylinders were slowly rotating open to reveal a set of polished, thumb-sized mirrorlike spheres. At another signal, the MicroSats were silently released from their rubberized magnetic docks to puff a short distance away from the massive structure. Looking like brilliant specks of dust in the unblinking sun, like dancers in perfect synchronization, they puffed outward and upward at a precise angle. Accelerating to a mile’s distance from each other, they retrofired their strong propulsion units to park in geostationary orbit, positioned in a precise equilateral triangle somewhere above the western coast of New Guinea. As the enormous wedge shape of the mothership slid over the curve of the horizon, the three stowaways rotated their cameras and sensors downward….

Yuck! Adam peeled a pile of wet paper off the floor of the sled. Scowling, he tried his best to smooth it out in his lap. They’re all runny, Grandpa.

That’s okay, I think we got it.

Adam shoved the wad of papers aside to peer over his shoulder. There was a brilliantly glowing screen on the dashboard. Wow! He gushed. Look at that! Your little GPS guys are all cranking out real-time videos! He pointed, first to the screen then to the humps in front of them. We must be real close to the….

Their eyes locked. The Outpost, they whispered in unison.

The MicroSats are pointing the way, the old man affirmed. We had to use ‘em to see through this thick jungle. You know, Adam, in spite of the big storm this morning, we’ve actually covered most of the distance! According to my little spheres, there’s less than half a mile to go. Thank God we had our shields up or we would’a gotten soaked.

Hey! Adam pointed through a small opening in the trees. There’s the muddy river I just saw on the screen! We might be able to go faster along the shore!

Good thinking! A perfect detour, roughly in the same direction, his grandfather grinned, turning the sled toward the water. But remember, we can fly.

Huh?

We’re gonna go right down the middle!

No, no! Over the water? It’s too wild, Grandpa. W-we can’t….

Think again! Anything’s possible, right! I’ll just recalculate our latest coordinates onto the map and we’ll make some serious time! Just watch! He raised the sled a few feet higher and shot straight out over the swollen stream. Hovering rock-steady for a few moments to adjust the controls, he nosed south on the highway of roiling brown water and punched the accelerator. Like some exotic species of flying fish, they soared over the rock-strewn, muddy surface, the sled pulsing powerfully beneath them.

Adam raised his arms high in the air, yelping in delight. "Wow! This is more like it, Grandpa! We’re really movin’!

The old man chuckled, squinting his eyes in the spray. Hey, I’m thinking this would be a perfect time to test our autopilot, don’t you?

Adam rested his chin on the big shoulder, watching intently.

Here goes, the old man grinned. Supertechno stuff! Slowly, deliberately, he slid the delay control up a few notches to let the circle of Doppler radar chips work in closer sync with the side thrusters. With a soft hum, the double row of fine, blue laser locator beams brightened and fanned out around the sled’s lateral lines as the big internal neodymium magnet gyro sped up several hundred thousand rpm. Things immediately smoothed out: the sled became alive, anticipatory, and almost human in its reactions.

Adam’s sensitive ears picked out another sound: tiny puffs of air were now shooting out all around the perimeter! With short, precise autopulses from a train of valves in the minijet rails, the sled was now a step ahead of the subtlest shifts in wind shear and the ever-changing terrain of the rapids in front of them.

Grandpa chuckled, slipping back quickly into his usual techno jargon. Man, just look at the schematic! The blue lasers’ short wavelengths and the sonar are pinpointing every pebble along the shore!

The once-roiling stream began to broaden and slow down, and they found themselves in a thicket of odd-looking vegetation. He throttled back, lowered the sled, and reached over the side. At the slightest of touches, a translucent, watery stem broke in his fingers with a decided snap. He raised his bushy brows knowingly. Aha! He turned to Adam. A very exotic strain of the fumitory family, like Dutchmen’s breeches: it’s only indigenous to marshy ground. We’re very close; the runes mentioned a marsh. Their searching eyes quickly spotted a small opening along the shoreline.

A finger to his lips, his head motioning toward the entrance, the old man turned toward the boy with a mysterious air. The tousled head nodded eagerly. He tweaked the sled’s antigrav upward half a notch. They entered cautiously, hovering noiselessly above the spongy ground, peering intently into the fascinating web of green. The humid environment was thick, oppressive, yet absolutely thrumming with life. After a long, silent moment, Adam’s faint whisper broke the spell, his voice barely audible.

A-are they watching us, Grandpa?

Yes, he shrugged, Definitely. The animals are watching us.

Let’s hide, then! Adam interrupted excitedly.

Hey, all right! Grandpa whispered, quickly opening up a new a bank of switches on his touchscreen. Thinking, thinking, always thinking! That’s what I like about you, boy! Yes, it’s much smarter to watch the critters from cover!

He programmed a few sequences. With a crackle and hum the sled became surrounded with electrical shields, completely masking their human odor and blotting out the sound of their excited breathing. A cloaking device followed, blossoming from a point somewhere below the sled and spreading slowly upward, simply airbrushing them from view. In a heartbeat they’d become a shimmering mirage, watching life as from another dimension. Many nervous eyes were now blinking in bewilderment from the surrounding jungle.

Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash and SCREAM right next to the sled!

Yikes! Adam slid off his seat, rapping his elbow. Ouch! Rubbing it furiously, he scrambled to his knees to peer intently through the electronic curtain, straining his utmost to see. Grandpa! He hissed. W-what in the world was that?

Hey, we don’t exist, remember? You don’t have to whisper!

Oh, yeah. Right.

Something began to thrash wildly in the branches beside them. Loud screams stabbed unmercifully into the tranquil pulse of life, skewing the droning peace into an instant, shocked war zone. As the horrific din invaded their electronic walls, Grandpa’s hands groped blindly toward the controls, his nerves raw, poised on the razor-edge of flight. Without warning, the curtain of leaves whipped apart: a fierce, fire-eyed, demonic apparition burst through, flying directly at them!

Adam squealed in terror, looking up and holding his arms over his head. The silhouette of a struggling brown form was being dragged over their invisible dome, flailing and thumping loudly against the curved shield; it trailed a long stream of blood, the dark red beads sizzling, popping and dancing on the current. In seconds the action resumed on the other side of the sled. As they swiveled in unison, the boy pressed tightly against his grandpa’s shoulder, his heart beating nearly out of his chest. W-what is that thing?

Hmm… I’ve seen a few in documentaries but never in real life. They’re an endangered species now. Let’s see; lemme do a split screen: the LifeForm Database cross-referenced next to a color-enhanced infrared camera. He twirled a few dials. Wow, there’s your answer, boy, he nodded. Look at the pictures!

The database showed the creature’s face, with a full description below. Adam’s eyes grew wide as he glanced at the infrared image next to it.

A magnificent harpy eagle hovered before them in the sunlit clearing. The infrared was vividly color-enhanced: a hot-red avian shape showed clearly, with powerful, blue-green vortices of wind swirling off the tips of seven-foot, beating wings. It definitely looked like an alien creature with the long, curving feathers of his Medusa’s crest flaring wide in alarm. The predator was obviously stunned and surprised.

The enormous wings were powerful, the turbulence pushing the sled away from it. With a sudden loud pop the GPS sensors clicked, initiating an autocorrective maneuver: the port thrusters came on and the whoosh gave them away.

Oops, Adam whispered. He’s outta here!

Like a circling halo of snakes, the crest shot out in alarm and he clamped his steely talons down in a viselike death-grip. His prey, a small female monkey, gasped her last and hung limply. As he rose in the air, Adam spotted a subtle movement on the monkey’s underbelly. Uh-oh! He shook Grandpa’s shoulders and pointed emphatically. Is that what I think it is?

The man shielded his eyes in the glare, squinting up into the blinding, flickering shafts of light. Shortly, he spotted it. Yes, yes, there’s another one, Adam, there’s definitely another monkey…. It’s a baby! By gosh, your eyes are sharp!

A tiny, month-old infant was clinging for its life to its mother’s fur. They watched helplessly, speechlessly, as the eagle neared the sunlit hole in the canopy. Suddenly, the little one lost its grip! Plummeting head over heels, it looked like a tumbling speck of dust grasping desperately at the empty air.

No! Adam gasped. He’s falling!

In a quick, deliberate chain of reflexive actions, the man leaped to the rescue. He dropped the shields and cloaking device, sidestepped the sled with a strong blast from the starboard thrusters, and at the last possible second, threw his raincoat wide like a net. The frightened ball of fur bounced once, flew through the air, and beelined into the man’s thick hair, looking for something furry and familiar.

Adam was bouncing now, too. Yeow! Where’d he go? Did he get away?

A big hand gently cupped over his fluttering lips for silence. Shhh! Cool your jets, he whispered. We don’t want to frighten him any more than he is!

A fuzzy head popped up, prompting a stifled squeal. There he is!

Somehow he’d managed to squeeze out a few words between the man’s thick fingers. Grinning, the old man tried his best to hold the thin, flailing arms to his sides, but the eight-year-old’s patience had reached its limit: he could be contained no longer. Slippery as a bar of wet soap, he wrestled his mouth and arms free.

Is-is he hurt, Grandpa? Is he hurt? Huh?

The man sighed in resignation and let go. Scowling, he poked around in his thick hair. All right, let’s see… Oh-so-carefully he plucked at the tiny, clenching fingers with his big mitts, as if they were errant sticky burrs. Ouch! Ooooch! Darn thing’s worse than Velcro! Resolutely gritting his teeth he yanked hard, pulling out long frazzled strands of salt-and-pepper hair. Okay, okay! Take him quick, Adam!

The boy drew back, stunned. "Huh? Me? You’re letting me hold him?

All hands and feet, the infant was grabbing at the air. Adam reached out tentatively. It latched onto his thumb, swung down into his lap, and cowered tightly against his chest. Afraid to move his head a fraction of an inch, he lowered just his eyes to study the frail creature. It didn’t take long for the bond to form; in a few moments it was as if they were old friends: the boy rocking back and forth on the seat making soothing sounds, the monkey squeaking in response.

As the man watched the two in fascination, he noticed a dark cloud slowly shadowing his grandson’s face, erasing his delighted smile. He leaned toward him.

What is it, boy? he whispered.

Adam glanced up, his throat tightening. H-he’s just like me, Grandpa, he choked, tears brimming.

Of course he’s just like you. He’s got two hands, two ears, a nose….

No, no! he interrupted. Now, I mean! H-he’s just like me now! The barely contained tears brimmed over, and he began to sob.

As he watched the boy cradling the newly created orphan, he finally understood what had really been conveyed between the lines. A deep wound had just been opened, one that would never go away. Impulsively he reached out and swept the weeping boy to his chest, his heart aching anew. The event that shattered their small family happened only five years ago. As the memories jolted painfully, relentlessly, into place, he began to blink back his own tears. Trembling, he sighed deeply. This little one now in his arms was barely three when his parents died on that distant planet, but he was sharp enough to grasp what had really happened. He glanced down at his grandson again. The boy’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his tear-streaked face dappled in the sunlight. He drew him tighter to his chest.

After a long moment, the boy began to whisper haltingly, his child’s eye recounting the confusion of that awful day. I-I don’t remember too much, Grandpa, except for all those people running by, yelling and crying. And that big nurse lady was squeezing me too tight! Yelling, yelling way too loud! He lowered his head. It wasn’t until she took me down into the hold to see all those long, black boxes that she finally let me go and handed me….

That’s right, boy, he whispered. She gave you to me. I have you now.

They sat quietly in the middle of a green nowhere, lost in reverie for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, with a scowl and a sigh, the boy forced himself away to sit up a bit straighter. Brightening, he reached down with his free hand to pick up a wad of waterlogged paper. You know, it must be already way over a year since we drew these maps from your weird old runes! We’re the only two people in the whole world that knows about them! But it seems like it’s taking forever to get to….

Wow, a year’s gone by already? Grandpa interrupted, raising a brow. He was relieved: it was as if the sun had come out again. Well, it’s been way, way longer for me, boy! I’ve held onto those runes ever since I was a young Planet Hopper!

Wow, since the olden days!

The old man held up an admonishing finger. Easy! Don’t start…!

Grinning mischievously, Adam slipped off his lap and stood up, looking around intently. Are we getting closer to the outpost?

Yeah, very close, kiddo. But now it’s time to watch very carefully, because the next part is gonna get pretty, ah, dangerous.

Dangerous? The tear-swollen eyes were suddenly eager.

Dangerous, he affirmed. So just do exactly as I say, right?

Right!

He tousled the boy’s hair. Let’s go, he whispered.

Two hundred and sixty miles overhead, Grandpa’s shiny trio of MicroSats had been silently pinpointing their position. He flipped down a touchpad from the console and began to draw on its surface with a stylus, his hand moving quickly, plotting an intricate overlay on top of the 3D photo terrain. He’d personally developed all this classified tracking technology and hardware for the government, so he’d been right on the scene for the mission’s hurried, last-minute preparations. It had been surprisingly easy to stow his personal, multifunctional thumb-sized satellites aboard TriNight.

As the sled glided around a last, tangled thicket of palms into a swampy opening, a fine, scopelike set of crosshairs moved slowly across the screen’s real-time overlay. Finally, the crosshairs aligned with the big X on the photomap.

Bingo! Grandpa muttered. There you go, right down to the fraction of an inch! Can’t get any better’n that! He stopped and looked up decisively. We’re here!

The boy’s bright young eyes had been watching every movement, taking it all in. He bounced up and looked around, gently cradling the monkey in his arms. The antigrav sled hovered noiselessly, as steady as a rock, its fine blue laser beams dancing brightly on nearby stationary objects. They were beside a stream with what appeared to be a massive wall on the other side.

Aha! Grandpa’s booming voice echoed off the hard surface, breaking the silence. So that’s what it looks like! Shaking with excitement, the boy stowed the monkey into a small specimen cage under his seat. Grab your backpack! The old man jumped off nimbly, his boots squishing into the boggy earth. With a clatter and a splash, Adam was quickly beside him. The wall appeared to be seamless, so fine was the fit of each massive stone, revealing just a glimpse of the mastery of the unknown architects. Almost completely overgrown, vines and strange mosses now enveloped an incredibly smooth, mirrorlike surface. They waded slowly across the swollen stream, their eyes fixed on the mysterious ruin.

There was a sudden flash of light stabbing out of the gloom ahead! Grandpa looked down at his grandson’s chest. Twin beams were tracing out mysterious patterns!

The boy drew back, his hands flailing to brush them off. G-Grandpa?

Wow! You found them already? he whispered.

I found them? he choked. I-I think they found me!

Grandpa stood there like a rock, his eyes darting, analyzing. Hmm, I’m only guessing here, but I think the beams must be establishing our species.

Adam’s chin was quivering, the light dancing on his chest. Now what?

Well, I think it’s time you say the word, that’s what.

Huh? There’s a word?

Think now. The beams found you, and they’re waiting for the word! It’s gotta come from you….

Wait, wait! Don’t tell me! Is-is it that funny rune word we talked about?

Yes, he answered calmly. That one.

But-but I forgot how to pronounce it!

Grandpa held up a finger. Listen carefully. We’re in a locked pattern here, and there’s no getting around it. The rune needs to be spoken to avoid consequences. Big consequences. He looked into the boy’s frightened eyes. Now, remember the keyword, ‘Valota’? Try it. You can do it.

The boy took a deep breath. Val-oh-tah!

They waited in expectation. Nothing happened.

He tried again, enunciating a different syllable. Valo-tah!

Immediately, something snapped upward under his feet! He gasped, his arms flailing for balance. Grandpa! Under me! There’s some kind of underwater cable!

In a geyser of bubbles, a loud mechanical whir penetrated the surface of the stream in a distressing, high-pitched pulse. The water exploded into motion, a blur of scale, claw, eye, and tooth. Frantic life forms boiled toward the shore, flapping and slithering: lungfish, slithering electric eels, small reptiles, water snakes, frogs, and salamanders, the entire resident amphibian population scrambled wildly away from the source. As the bizarre assortment of cold bodies bumped and twined around his feet, Adam finally lost it. He screamed a high C sharp and jumped into his grandfather’s arms. Wh-what is it, Grandpa? he quavered.

Keeping his cool, the old man poked at the cable with his toe. Hmm…. This must be what they called the Hetex, remember? The trigger? How clever! They hid it underwater! We might’ve been searching all morning!

A loud scraping sound came from the wall. They both jerked their heads up.

Stay cool, boy, he hissed. I think that’s the Motaz! Remember that word?

Adam squinted into the mass of greenery, trying to focus on the source of the sound. The M-Motaz? What does it do, Grandpa? What…?

A seam showed up on the wall, appearing from nowhere! With a rending squeal and a loud snapping sound, vines and moss were yanked loose in a huge rectangle. A deep rumbling shook the ground as an enormous rectangular block slid inward into the shadows. The opening was quickly showered with scrambling lizards and falling bromeliad cups; the spiky, hot-pink plants tipped over, spilling and wetting the dry stone.

Grandpa nodded knowingly. So that’s the Motaz! It’s what they called the ‘moving opening.’ He swung the boy up onto his big shoulders and walked briskly toward the wall. The runes were spot on, Adam. Now it’s time for your job. Make it quick now.

The boy was frightened but knew what to do: they’d rehearsed it a zillion times. As he scrambled up over the edge, an odd odor hit him in the face. Cold wind was rushing up out of the darkness, the swirling eddies blending the odd, sharp smells of hot metal, crushed stone and sap from the bleeding vines. Together, they stunk with an acidic pervasiveness. He crawled a bit further into the darkness on his hands and knees, squinting. A tunnel! All that cold wind was flowing up out of a tunnel! His hand suddenly rested on something warm and smooth. Startled he looked down, his eyes focusing on a faint gleam under the eons of dust. He spun around on his knees, whispering a single word to Grandpa over the edge.

Rails!

There was a flash of a smile. The big hands silently motioned for him to hurry. He quickened his pace. Yes, a double set of rails shone beneath the edge of the massive stone plug, now against the far wall. He slid a finger over the slick surface. What kind of metal could this be? Why, it wasn’t even rusty! He dug into his backpack and pulled out a knotted climbing rope, locked the grappling end firmly into one of the rails, and tossed it down over the edge. He stopped short. Somewhere in the darkness behind him, he thought he heard a small, metallic clink. What in the world was that?

Grandpa had heard it too, and his head jerked up. Rope in hand, he nimbly scaled the wall with the skill of an acrobat, flipping up over the edge. He landed in a squat, drawing his ion gun. Down! he hissed.

As Adam flattened himself, there was a clap of thunder and something massive cleaved through the air, whizzing by the very spot where his head would have been! Their jaws dropped as an enormous stone sphere crashed far out in the jungle, leaving a trail of flying branches and terror-stricken animals in its wake.

It all grew quiet again. Somewhere in the ominous silence, there was a second faint metallic clink, this time followed by an electronic hum. Adam flattened his body and closed his eyes in fearful anticipation. No, no, Grandpa! Another….

Hold on! the man interrupted, rolling away.

There were several loud pops in rapid succession. Terror pulsing through his veins, Adam cracked his eyes open a slit to see the man lying flat on his back, his ion gun blazing into the shadows. After a loud, electronic screech in the darkness, there was an ominous silence. He watched the old man rise slowly to his feet, hesitate, and then creep inside. His teeth began to chatter. Sweat was now evaporating off his thin body, making him shake uncontrollably in the cold wind from the tunnel. After a moment of indecision, he leapt to his feet, briskly rubbing his arms.

Grandpa! Where are you grandpa?… Grandpa?

There was a distant, muffled cough. Come over and see this, boy!

He let out a short breath, relieved. He sprinted to his side and knelt down, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the shadows. His grandfather was bending over a strange-looking, smoldering object fastened low on the wall, the tip of his ion gun gingerly poking at a bunch of smoking gold wires.

Without a word, the boy dropped to his hands and knees, turned, and crawled along the floor into the shadows, tracing another set of gleaming rails to another massive stone sphere! He scrambled to his feet and walked around the back of it, his hand sliding over the surface. This one was way bigger, as big as a truck, and it seemed to be aimed lower, probably to pick off any stragglers. The melted gold wiring gleamed brightly in the darkness.

They had a giant catapult! You took out the trigger mechanism, Grandpa! His muffled voice echoed out from the depths. You zapped the sensor!

The man peered around the sphere. Good for you, Adam! Dead on!

Indeed, a very old and very sophisticated catapult mechanism stood tautly poised, its strange metal alloy still gleaming brightly after eons. Stand back, boy! he whispered. I just want to make sure. A single, well-aimed blast from his ion gun fused the trigger mechanism for good. He gathered up a few slivers of the alloy and stowed them into a specimen bag to analyze later.

Adam looked up fearfully into his grandfather’s eyes. W-we woulda’ been squashed, Grandpa! His teeth chattered. Like b-bugs!

It’s okay, he reassured. Well, the show’s over! Let’s go! We gotta make time!

As they lit their powerful Asron gas torches, the stone’s highly polished surface bounced the thin pencil beams back into their faces like dazzling mini suns. They turned a dial and widened the focus into a flood. Moving quickly, the man slipped out a small, pressurized vial of strange fluid, cranked open its needle valve a bit, and then clipped it firmly onto his utility belt.

The boy watched in fascination. A thin, glowing stream of phosphorescent vapor wafted into the air, solidified, and settled to the floor in a glowing tracery.

Wow! Way cool, Grandpa! What’s all this shiny stuff for?

He shrugged. Just preparing for any eventuality, right? We might have to ditch these heavy torches and come back in the dark. Hey! I kinda like the effect, don’t you?

The boy nodded emphatically, scuffing some of it around with his boots and watching it smear. We’ll just follow the glow back up here, right?

Right! Let’s go!

As they entered and the floor began to angle steeply downward, Adam started to slide on the polished surface, losing control. Leaning against the wall, he trained his torch into the depths and squinted down the shaft. Far below, a strangely patterned wall appeared. As they slid closer, picking up speed, he could finally make it out. Bristling ominously at the end of the ramp, great, sharp spikes were sticking out nastily from the surface.

He panicked. Grandpa! A booby trap! We can’t stop! What do we…?

Your grippers, Adam! He snapped. Do it!

Oh! Right!

Even though they’d spent months preparing for the trip, the foot grippers were thrown in as a last-minute addition, almost an afterthought. The results were instantaneous: at the flip of a switch on their utility belts, a set of small vacuum pumps hummed and their footgear’s gripper cups pulled tightly to the polished surface. They skidded to a halt, their feet making popping sounds as they approached the wall of death.

Adam’s teeth were chattering. F-first they t-try to f-flatten us, and then they make a slippery ramp that leads to this? He played his torch over the glistening needles, and then impulsively reached out to test the spikes’ sharpness with a fingertip.

A big hand clamped over his wrist. Uh-uh, Adam. Poison! Nasty stuff.

He drew back in alarm. W-why? Why are they trying to keep us out?

Grandpa shrugged. Secrets, boy. Great secrets. He motioned silently with his head toward a small opening on the right. You still game?

They entered cautiously. A set of meticulously sculpted stairs spiraled downward. Adam slipped off his gloves to run a wondering touch over the curved walls as they descended. His fingertips sensed almost nothing; the white alabaster walls were as smooth as glass and perfectly seamless. After many twists downward, the echoes of their excited breathing began to sound entirely different: more delay, more distant-sounding. They’d reached the bottom.

Hesitantly, they stepped out into a huge, domed vault, their twin torches picking out glittering architectural details on the far wall. What was that? It was an entirely different kind of reflection…. They turned their Asron torches upward.

Gasping, they stared open-mouthed at the distant ceiling. An intricate, heavily embossed fretwork of pure, hammered GOLD covered the entire inner surface of the dome, ending in a magnificent, twenty-foot medallion far over their heads!

Their awestruck gazes locked and then lowered as one to the vast, polished floor. The majestic dome overhead suddenly seemed to pale in comparison to the delicate work of art at their feet.

Glowing softly, spiral galaxies and dustlike groups of stars completely unknown to the Earth had been set into a deep, transparent blue glass background. Hair-thin wires of pure gold had been poured along microscopic grooves, connecting the star systems. Without question, this was obviously the creation of exquisitely sensitive hands and a vastly superior intelligence.

They sharpened the focus of their torches to probe deeply into the three-dimensional universe under them, backing their way up the stairs for a wider view: all around the perimeter of the floor, right up under the surface of the glass, a wide band of intricately embossed, cryptic patterns revealed themselves. Runes!

H-holy cow, Adam, the old man stuttered, his throat tightening. This-this is it! We’re really here! His mouth worked noiselessly as he translated, reading random descriptions of this lost section of the universe. In a second, he began to hop in a tight circle, his fist punching the air. Yes! Yes! He croaked in loud whispers.

Adam blinked at him, wide-eyed. What is this place?

Grandpa couldn’t speak; his voice was too full of emotion. Hands shaking, he fell to his knees, rummaging excitedly through the large pockets of his backpack. Finally, he regained his voice.

All the years, he whispered. All the searching! This is it! The Galaxy Room!

Wow! The Galaxy Room?

You’ll never know how long I’ve been dreaming about this moment, Adam!

After a few minutes of frantic tinkering, he stood up and sent a tiny balloon aloft with a microcamera attached. It bumped and scudded upward along the curved surface of the dome, tracing every contour of the lavish gold embellishment until it reached the medallion, where it stopped dead center. As he triggered the camera remotely, it buzzed to life, faintly whirring and clicking its myriad lenses into place. Wide angles or zooms, every shot seemed to have an endless array of light filters. There was a short pause, followed by a small beep. Autosequence had stopped.

He walked way out to the center of the vault. Taking dead aim, he popped the balloon with his ion gun. Adam flinched at the mini explosion as it echoed sharply around the perimeter of the room. The camera tumbled through the air.

Grandpa? His hands fluttered. How-how are you…?

A net was already poised. He caught it deftly and impulsively knelt on the spot to examine the images on the bright viewing screen. Adam watched in wonderment. Out in the vastness of this incredible room, his grandfather appeared as a tiny figure out in the center of a colossal blue universe, floating, lost.

Excellent! The single, percussive word hung in the air, repeating over and over. He jumped to his feet and scuffled back toward Adam, waving the viewing screen, exuberant and almost uncontainable. I-I got ‘em! The keys to open many doors! In a rush of impulse, he swept up the boy and swung him around and around. Finally dizzy, they both slumped to the floor in a heap. He lifted the small, swirling screen to Adam’s eyes.

The boy tried his best to focus on the confusing, moving images and soon found himself gazing into what appeared to be a deep, endless, nighttime sky. He pulled back with a start. A hologram? Yes, but nothing, absolutely nothing seemed familiar! Not a single star! He studied the image again. All along the edges, running in a band around this fantastic, far-flung capsule of stars and space was a border of golden runic symbols describing the scene in detail.

Giggling at his elbow, Grandpa flipped a lever. Now watch this, he gushed. He was excited, a boy again. A filter suddenly highlighted something else, something delicate, shiny and weblike: Thin, brightly glowing threads jumped out of the glasslike blue, connecting specific galaxies into … a Star Map! Adam was stunned.

Wow! Where’d all those lines come from? He looked up into Grandpa’s face, his forehead wrinkling. Rising slowly to his feet, he handed the camera back, walked out to the center of the floor, and dropped to his knees to examine it more closely. What in the world? Absolutely nothing he’d seen in the viewpiece was visible now! Not one thread! He lay flat on his stomach and put his eye right up against the surface of the cold, transparent glass, peering into it deeply, his sensitive child’s fingertips running over the surface.

What was that? He pulled back abruptly, his finger on the exact spot. Heat? Yes, heat! With growing excitement, he traced out an invisible line between two golden starbursts, following the warmth. Infrared! The camera’s filters and special heat-sensitive films had picked out the hidden, infrared tracery.

The old man’s face beamed as he watched his grandson running back with a grin plastered on his face. The boy had solved the complicated puzzle and was rightly proud. As Adam hugged him tightly around his waist, he pivoted awkwardly on his heels to point at the staircase behind them. We gotta hurry, now, boy. I wish I’d seen this before we came in. I just read something very troubling in the runes, something we didn’t count on. Go over there and push down on those last three steps. Take a second and study them closely. It’s very important.

He let go and ran to the staircase, dropping to his knees and skidding the last few feet on the slippery glass floor. Wow! Grandpa was right, there seemed to be tiny gaps along the bottoms of the last three stairs! He pushed down hard on one of them and it moved a fraction of an inch. Maybe it could be…. He looked up, putting the scenario together. A-another Hetex, Grandpa?

You got it, boy! Another trigger! We activated the infrared in the Star Map when we came into the room, and now….

As Adam caught his implied meaning, a disturbing thought began to rumble through his mind: if this infrared map had lain dormant for eons, waiting for someone to enter the room, now maybe some kind of irreversible sequence had begun? As he stared into the distance, lost in thought, he felt a presence beside him. Grandpa’s big hand tugged his reluctant chin upward to gaze intently into his eyes.

No! Adam’s face fell. Please say no! All this will be gone? Forever?

Yes, the man nodded firmly, with finality. In the wrong hands, the knowledge contained in this Star Map could upset the balance of power in the universe.

Aaargh! He closed his eyes, his hands covering his ears. No! Don’t tell me anymore, Grandpa! It-it’s all so beautiful! All this amazing work! You can’t be serious! Suddenly, he felt alone again. There was a distant popping sound.

Grandpa?

The man was intently peeling off heavy sheets of gold with his ion gun. I may be scared, boy, but I’m not stupid! Quick! Take as much as you can carry! He was rolling up some heavy sheets on the floor and stuffing them into his backpack. With a few antigrav pods, I know I can carry a bit over a thousand pounds. You should be able to carry about three-fifty! At today’s prices, that’s a king’s ransom!

It didn’t take much coaxing. The boy rolled and stuffed madly, wondering how much ‘a king’s ransom’ was worth. Science he knew. Fairy tales were, well, just fairy tales.

Somewhere, way off in the distance, a small chime sounded, growing rapidly in volume until it became a painful, pulsing cacophony. A thin, angry red line suddenly appeared around the perimeter of the floor!

Adam let out a gasp: his footgear was smoldering! As a hiss of smoke erupted, he danced backward, his eyes wordlessly imploring his grandfather’s face.

Yes, Adam! Now we run! As a hellish blast rose, he bellowed louder. Go for it! They ditched their heavy Asron gas torches and bolted up the spiral staircase, following the bright, phosphorescent trail.

As they reached the ramp and began to pick up speed with their footgrippers, a muffled roar and powerful blast of hot wind propelled them up the slope. Adam felt his feet leaving the ground and looked down. They were! Like a windmill, they were churning emptily in the air! Grandpa! he screamed. What are you…?

The big man shouted out instructions as he lifted him high, but the boy couldn’t hear him over the roar. He finally caught the tail end as they approached daylight.

And when you hit the ground, he concluded, roll!

Without another word, they heaved their knapsacks out into the jungle and dove headlong after them. Side by side they splashed down into a river of mud. The earth was trembling violently as they slipped and scrambled to their feet, pulling mightily on the straps of their weighty knapsacks. Their hearts in their mouths, they spun around in time to see the huge wall buckling, tipping backward into a gaping maw! With a sudden rush, a great wall of water hit their legs and sent them scrambling once again. The stream was diverting its course; in fact, the whole terrain was beginning to tilt alarmingly, with torrents of muddy water beginning to cascade down into the smoking abyss. Speechless, Adam stood riveted, the whites of his eyes rolling. Grandpa pushed him, bellowing.

Bad news! he cried. Steam! Move it!

Splashing and slipping frantically up the muddy slope, they half-ran, half-swam to the antigrav sled and dove aboard. Grandpa threw up the shields, hit emergency power, and catapulted the sled off the ground at full throttle. They screamed through the air as a cataclysmic explosion rocked the jungle.

The Galaxy Room was no more. Far beneath them, a great circle slumped and disappeared into a stupendous sinkhole. As the swollen river poured over the edge of the abyss, a mammoth, roiling cloud of steam churned upward into the stratosphere. The molten mass tunneled down through the Earth’s crust, the crucible’s heat mixing untold tons of melted gold, alabaster, and glass with the magma of the depths. On the grand scale, a mere speck of debris was sliding into a bottomless pit.

The volcano had a secret, and they were the only two people on Earth who knew about it. Far more importantly, they had the Star Map in their possession: keys to a whole new chapter in human existence.

Swooping low, they circled the steaming lake for a while, flying free in their shielded bubble, co-conspirators in one of the greatest adventures of their lives. Of course, Grandpa had seen far worse in his youth and began recounting it all now. Adam grinned and rolled his eyes as his endless stories began anew, stories of the years as a young Planet Hopper, stories of the apprenticeship as a deep-space astronomer on the far side of Mars Base. His grandpa had seen worlds colliding, stars exploding, and whole species of alien life forms exterminated on distant planets.

But somehow, deep inside, the boy knew that someday he’d see far more.

Chapter 2: SEEDS

A week passed. As early afternoon sunlight poured through an open window behind his chair, Adam sat enraptured with his grandfather’s company. It was just plain fun experiencing him in his natural element, delivering his colorful illustrations. Animated, alive and enthusiastic, he lit up obscure, hard-to-understand concepts with easy word pictures and storyboard scenarios and painted difficult and abstract problems with the brushes and pigments of familiarity.

Now, take a seed, Adam, he mused, raising his brows. It’s an easy concept to understand. If you sow a single seed it’ll produce a handful of seeds, right? But then after that handful there’ll be bushels of seeds to produce an unimaginable harvest.

Uh-huh.

Right. Okay now, wait…. He fished around in his vest pocket a moment and then ever so carefully drew something out. Something tiny. Adam squinted at it, reaching out to pull his big mitt closer. The thick fingers uncurled to reveal a bright, miniscule dot, a mere wedge of gold the size of a fingernail paring. As brilliant blue-green eyes bored into him, the boy’s face lit up with sudden understanding.

He glanced up quickly. "A seed?"

The old man chuckled, nodding in satisfaction. You got it, kiddo. Exactly an eighth of an ounce, weighed it myself this morning. He rolled the glinting speck around in his palm, making it flash brightly in the sunlight. Now imagine this: back in the olden days when I was your age, the price for a whole ounce or eight of these little seeds averaged about two thousand dollars.

Adam whistled in appreciation and eagerly stuck out his hand. Grandpa handed the chip to him. He poked it around in his palm a moment, contemplating. So eight of these little guys used to go for two thousand? What about today? How much are they asking for these chips right now?

He leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "Gold’s become very scarce, boy, extremely scarce. Most sources dried up years ago, so there’s been a lot of hoarding. Two main reasons: because there are no new mines and because there’s lots of demand, the price has shot clean out of sight. That’s why banks and governments have been fighting and figuring and refiguring the value in ounces, then quarter ounces, and now eighth-ounces. It’s absolutely crazy out there. For that one little blip you have in your hand, we can get, say, ten thousand dollars on this morning’s market."

What? Startled, Adam fumbled and the chip dropped to the floor. He dove to retrieve it under the sofa and straightened up, carefully blowing off the dust. His eyes suddenly grew wide. T-that would m-make us….

Filthy rich, Grandpa nodded, raising his brows. "But no! Not ordinary filthy rich, boy! Way, way above that. After taxes, and just before they stashed the rest into our vault, I asked the bank to weigh our share again."

Adam was beside himself with excitement and anticipation, bouncing in his seat. How much? How much did our gold weigh?

"We own a bit over 1,400 pounds. That’s a lot more than I ever thought would fit into our little knapsacks. Good thing I had a few extra antigrav pods to throw in…. Hey! You do the math. You’re good at that."

Adam closed his eyes and eagerly crunched the numbers. Let’s see, he mumbled, Da-da-daah, and daa-daa … that would equal a total of 128 eighth ounces, times 1,400 pounds, that equals, um, 179,200 eighth ounces. Yikes! At ten thousand dollars apiece…. His eyes popped open wide. "That-that would be close to two billion dollars! Wow, we’re instant billionaires!"

"And why are they hoarding this stuff, again? Grandpa prompted. Remember the other reason?"

Um, it’s getting harder to find?

Bingo! There’s no more where that came from! Our stash doesn’t exist anymore! It closed up shop for good! Every speck of the Galaxy Room melted into blobs and slid down the tubes! I mean way, way down! It’s probably finished mixing with magma in the core of the Earth by now.

Adam started twisting in his seat. Yeah, I saw a news report while you were in the shower! It was incredible! Scientists are flying in from everywhere to check it out! They can’t figure out why some totally extinct volcano would suddenly cave in and melt its own plug again!

The old man winked. And just like a really good novel, there’s more to the story, boy, more than anyone’s aware of. He lowered his voice to a whisper. Here’s the skinny, the real, behind-the-scenes reason: before we could even begin to explore in New Guinea, I made a deal with their government for exclusive rights to a whole string of my patents relating to CloneBank….

No, no! Not that one! Adam interrupted. Your reforestation invention?

Yup! The culmination of many years and many ‘eureka’ moments! Well, they loved it. In return, we got unlimited exploration rights. The best part was that whatever we took out, they promised to ask no questions.

Wow! What a deal! We get two billion, they get trees!

Yes. Definitely a win-win.

"Oh, now I get it! Adam’s face lit up as he put a few more pieces together. We did a lot of secret things when we got home last week, didn’t we, Grandpa? Like sneaking into your lab and melting all our rolled-up gold? You put on your gloves and poured it into little gray trays, he laughed. It was just like making superhot cupcakes!"

Yes, we ended up with bags and bags of those little shapes, he chuckled. And why do you think we went to all that effort? he prompted.

Adam shrugged. Um, so no one could ever guess our gold used to be all carved and fancy, or had those weird runes on them, right?

Bingo! We covered our tracks and ultimately protected everybody. Like I said, no questions asked, no questions answered. As the boy nodded, the old man sighed and turned to gaze out the window. But….

But what?

I really wish we could have done it all over again.

What, like a rerun?

"No, not the same: a lot different. Before we accidentally triggered those last five steps when we went into the Galaxy Room, I really wish I’d looked around a bit more. I might have seen the warning in the runes and we could have just…."

"I know. Jumped over the bottom steps.