"Fox, set up a detector routine in the forward scanners," said the Collector. "Run a systems check on all weapons systems, Maxwell."
"Isn't it about time you told us who we're going up against?" Guiles asked the Collector.
"They are called Lexaptuorkellnast and their leader is named Akeptzaxodur. You could call them pirates and not be far off the mark."
"Sir," Lucas said. "It will take just under sixty hours for us to reach those co-ordinates."
"Good," said the Collector. "Activate stealth mode, put everyone on eight-hour shifts until further notice, and have the engineers bring all systems to readiness. I will be in my quarters attempting to get some sleep. Guiles, the bridge is yours.
The Collector rose and left the huge room. The little ball of light followed after him like the pet that it was. As the doors closed behind him Guiles and Maxwell looked at each other and began a quiet conversation. I didn't need to hear what they were saying to tell that they were worried. I got up and wandered over to them anyway 'cause I had gotten curious.
"He's gone off the deep end," said Guiles.
Maxwell nodded in agreement.
"Why couldn't we have just used the Museum's teleport systems to bring Sarah back?" Guiles continued. "We didn't need to leave... Or we could have used a time-capsule to go directly to her location. This is totally unnecessary!"
"I had begun to think along similar lines myself, Guiles." said Maxwell quietly. "I fear the Collector has become unbalanced, erratic. Our mission now must be not only the safe return of Sarah, but the return of reason to the Collector."
"What are we gonna do," I asked. "Mutiny? It seems to me that what we really need to do is try to keep from using these super-weapons on the ship. Just kinda sneak in and rescue Sarah and hightail it back to the Museum."
"You have the correct idea Tom Darby," said Maxwell. "But it's execution may prove difficult. We will be fortunate to be able to convince the Collector to avoid retaliation against Sarah's kidnappers. Until we are appraised of the Collector's next intentions, however, we cannot make any further plans to keep his temper in check."
"Well, you wanted me along to help keep him from doing anything stupid," I pointed out. "Any suggestions on how I'm gonna do that?"
"If he starts some kind of vendetta against the kidnappers then his homeworld will be sure to find out about it. They'll start combing the timelines for traces of him. He could wind up on trial for his life. We'd be in danger, too. Everything about the Museum and it's exhibits violate their laws," said Guiles.
"How's that?" I asked. "I mean, why should they care?"
"While the Collector seldom uses anything but perfect replicas of the objects he exhibits, the very act of gathering them would be considered to be altering the history of some timelines. That is the law that the Collector violates," said Maxwell. "Their punishment is often death for such a crime."
"How can making copies of stuff be a crime?" I asked.
"It's like this," said Guiles. "They figure that if something or someone is supposed to be gone from the universe, even a copy being on a different timeline violates natural laws. They think that the whole universe could become unraveled do to some kind of paradox. He told me once that his people played 'God' to some half-civilized planet, and they damn near destroyed themselves. Since then they've had a hands-off policy on every other planet. They're supposed to be able to observe, but not to interfere."
"That sounds silly," I said. "But I can see some sense in it. But surely they could help people without playing 'God'?"
"They chose not to see it that way," said Maxwell. "They fear some renegade could do untold harm to the universe. Indeed, some have done so. But other so-called renegades have usually taken it upon themselves to combat such people. The Collector has always been such a one, to right the wrongs done by others of his people. But he has always worked in the background, invisibly adding his strength to the combat of evil. I fear that Sarah's kidnapping has been too much of a strain upon him. He is no longer acting from the shadows, he is lashing out in anger and endangers not only himself but us all."
"Why do you keep following his lead, then?"
"Because, Tom Darby, there is not a single one of us that do not owe him our lives many times over. The Krell crewmembers you see around us were on the edge of extinction, I was lost and adrift in space..."
"I was killed in a fire," added Guiles. "He saved us all, in one way or another."
"You mean that you're a copy?" I gasped. "The real you is dead?"
"That's right," said Guiles. "But I'm just as real as I ever was before the fire."
"Awesome..." I muttered, stunned by the news. "Is Sarah a copy too?"
"No," said Maxwell. "Sarah is an artificial person entirely. She was made by the Collector as a test of his copying and teleport processes. "
"What? You mean he made her just to love him? That's creepy!"
"No!" said Guiles forcefully. "She loves him because he is worthy of her love, not because he wrote that love into the program he used to create her. He was just as surprised as anyone when she told him how she felt. He'd already abandoned the research as being immoral by then. He said it was too much like the kind of manipulation that his people had done in their past. Now he will save lives, but he refuses to create them. He was just trying to perfect the copying process. I guess you could say that he had perfected it too much."
"So you guys are all copies of dead people?"
"Maxwell isn't a copy, but he's one of the few originals among us. The Krell are originals, too. But we can all be re-copied if we were to get killed," said Guiles.
"Man! This is heavy! It sounds like you guys are immortal or something."
"In a way, we are. Swan over there has been killed thousands of times. He is the test-case of the copying process for living beings. His main job used to be to go out and get himself killed just to test the revival machinery. Now he hardly ever dies, but if he does he can be brought back to life in a matter of minutes. We all can never permanently die."
"Damn," I whispered. "This is almost too much to be believed. What happens if you get too old?"
"Then the next copy has all of our memories," said Guiles. "But a younger body. Swan is over seven hundred years old, but had the body of a thirty year-old in his prime."
"Gulies," I asked. "How many times have you died?"
"Only once since the fire that killed my original. I remember it all- even my life before the fire, but I don't think about it much. I'm alive now, that's all that counts."
"Oh damn," I said. "This is just too weird."
"That is why we must save the Collector from himself," said Maxwell simply.
"Tom Darby," boomed the ships intercom system. "Please report to the Collector's quarters."
"I thought he was going to get some sleep," I said.
"He probably can't," said Guiles. "Could you, if your lover were in danger?"
"No, I guess not."
"It is likely that he wishes to speak with you about our reasons for asking that you be included on this mission," said Maxwell. "He may wish to dissuade you from taking an active part in any combat. Indeed, I would also wish you to remain aboard the ship. If only to keep him from risking your life in some ill-considered move."
Guiles motioned one of the oddly-shaped Krell crewmembers over to where we stood and spoke to him quietly. I looked the alien over since I'd never been this close to one of these Krell folks before. He was shaped vaguely like a pyramid or an upside-down top. I couldn't see if he had a mouth, but he more than made up for it with some extra eyes, five of them, circling the apex of his five-sided body.
"Kaskel will lead you to the Collector," said Guiles. "Good luck."
"Follow me, please." said Kaskel as he raised one of his five arms in a perfectly human gesture. I almost giggled, but caught myself in time. Then, without turning, the alien started for the door of the control room, his stubby little legs making good speed despite their shortness. Guiles and Maxwell watched wordlessly as Kaskel and I left the room.
"Do you think he suspects anything?" asked Guiles when they were alone again. "He seems to be a pretty bright lad."
"Tom Darby has no real evidence to support any suspicions," answered Maxwell gravely. "Without any proper frame of reference he can form no conclusions. Your secret is safe- for now."
"If he catches on he might get reckless."
"I doubt he will give it another thought. Although you could have been more graphic when describing your deaths."
"Yeah, but I don't like to think about them that much," said Guiles sadly.
"Come in my boy," I heard the Collector say. "Come in." Then I saw him reclining on a perfectly normal couch on the far side of the room. "Come over and take a seat. I had little success in attempting to sleep and thought it was high time we had a little chat. No doubt you have many questions. I promise to answer them as best I can."
"Thank you Sir," I said as I sat across from him in the chair he'd indicated. "There are a few things I've been wondering about."
"Only a few? You must be fairly brimming over with them or you possess less curiosity than your species is famous for having."
"Hmm," I said, not knowing where to begin.
"Come come, my boy, I shan't be offended. Surely you realize that by now."
"Well, I was wondering why we had to use a ship at all to rescue Sarah. I mean, you have all those teleport things in the Museum, so why not just use one of them?"
"Excellent question, Tom. Why not indeed?"
"You seem to be able to do anything Sir, or almost anything. Why do it this way? It seems kind of- well, reckless."
"Indeed, it is reckless, reckless in the extreme. But I do have good reasons for going about it this way. No doubt you've begun to question my sanity. I'm aware my companions have begun to do so."
I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair, not really knowing what to say.
"You've been told, no doubt, that if we were discovered by my people we would all be in the most extreme danger."
"Well, yes."
"Good, I wouldn't want you to remain unaware of the stakes we're playing for. It would mean my death, or worse, not to mention the danger to my employees. Yes, it would be most unfortunate indeed for us to be compromised. But know you this: I'd give my life gladly to save Sarah. She means everything to me."
"I can understand that, Sir. I feel the same way about the woman I love. But Sir..."
"Please, call me Gray. Each time you call me 'Sir' I want to look over my shoulder to see if my father has come into the room behind me. Stern fellow, wouldn't approve of what I do. No, not at all."
"Well then, Gray..." I almost stuttered over the name. "I still don't understand why you couldn't have stayed in the Museum and rescued Sarah from there."
"For the simple reason that it wouldn't have removed the danger. She would still be at risk, as would the Museum and everyone in it. I have to use this ship to remove that threat. Not only to her, the Museum, and my employees, but to the rest of the cosmos itself. This is no ordinary foe we are up against. These people are far too cunning for the good of all concerned. Sarah was not kidnapped at random, you know, but as part of a larger plot to gain power. These villains seek absolute power over everyone and everything in the universe. A stupid conceit, as if any one species could hope to rule so big an empire." He snorted in derision. "No, this warlord, this Akeptzaxodur creature wands to use Sarah as a lever to force me to turn this ship over to him. He lusts after the weaponry aboard, the power it represents. He's quite mad, you know," the Collector said gently. He stared down at the floor as his voice trailed off into silence. Then he looked up at me with those penetrating eyes, as if he could see right through to my soul.
"I know why Guiles and Maxwell insisted that you accompany us on this mission," he said mysteriously. "They hope that my concern for you will keep me from taking any rash action which would put me at risk. No doubt they have expressed the thought that I've become irrational, nearly insane, as it were."
"Well, yes. But not in so many words. They're all worried about you, but they'd follow you into hell if that's where you intended to go. For Sarah's sake, and for yours too."
"Such loyalty," he said. "I am truly touched. But not by madness, I assure you. I do have a plan, but they must all play their parts perfectly if we are to succeed. These villains must have no hint that we have the wherewithall to defeat them on their own terms, or Sarah's life is truly forfeit."
"But you could bring her back to life!" I blurted out the words as if they were an accusation.
"So," he said in a cold voice. "Guiles has seen fit to tell you that. Yes, I could resurrect her easily. But how would she feel about it? Did you consider that? Would you want your lover to know that you let her die just to save yourself the trouble of leaving the house? She would remember the agony of her torture, her death, and know that you merely waited for some impersonal machinery to retrieve her from the grave. That is a price I am unwilling to pay. Sarah must be saved, not merely revived. She must be spared that pain of having to die. Can you understand that, my boy?"
"Yes," I said simply. What else could I say? I agreed with his motives, anyway, if not his methods. "Do the ends justify the means?"
"Hardly ever, my boy. Hardly ever. Justification is out of the question. But there are other lives at stake here, for this is a most dangerous game. If these fiends are not stopped here and now, who could ever be safe? All sentient life is at risk. If my Museum can be attacked with impunity, then anyone anywhere can be attacked as well. Someone has assisted these Lexaptuorkellnast people to attain the technology necessary to enter and leave my Museum at will. If this is not checked here and now, then there is no safety anywhere. I fear for the whole of creation, if we fall the universe may well fall to them as well. This ship and ourselves are all that stand in their way. My companions all must act as if they think me mad with grief, for we were not safe from observation until we left the Museum. Even now we may be under scrutiny. I must continue to appear as if I am unable to think, to only react in an insane manner."
"But why tell me? What if I give it away somehow?"
"That is highly unlikely. Your mind would be a closed book to them, for you are far to alien to them to be understood. Your species is too primitive, if I may use the term without insult, for them to understand. They will see you only as an object of contempt, a savage beneath their notice."
"Then why tell me anything at all? Why run the risk of my making a mistake that could cost lives?"
"I am loth to treat you as a savage, Tom. In all my centuries of life I have never wished to look down upon other people simply because they are not of a species as ancient as my own. Your people are known for their unwillingness to accept any defeat, to snatch victory from the very teeth of disaster, to rise above that which others consider to be your limits, and persevere by sheer willpower alone. Someday you will find yourselves to have been the founders of the greatest benevolent empire ever to grace your particular timeline. That day may be long in arriving, but arrive it will, and you will be worthy of it. To put it simply: I have faith in you. You will not fail me. Indeed, you cannot, by reason of your very nature.
If anything should happen to me, I want you to carry a message to Maxwell and the others. They are to continue the operation as if I were still here. They can never surrender, for the stakes are too high. Furthermore, they must find the power behind these villains and crush it, crush it completely, or all will be lost." The Collector touched a control on the table beside his couch. I heard a quiet bell-like sound as he rose and shook my hand. "You may also tell them that I was never as insane as I seemed, and that my madness was feigned to allow our enemy to underestimate us. We may well need that advantage. That is all of the message. A crewman will be waiting outside the door to show you to your quarters. I shall see you on the Bridge in the morning. Good night, my boy."
"Good night, Gray." I said absently. I turned and walked to the door. In the vestibule I paused between the closed doors and sank back against the wall as tired as I have ever been in my life. "Damn..." I whispered to myself in awe.
Copyright 1996 by Dan L. Hollifield
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