Turcotte’s finger caressed the trigger. He was tired of being treated like an ignorant child. “Artad is going there so he can make contact with the Airlia home world and get rescued.”
“Which will bring this planet back under the thrall of the Airlia,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “And put it back on the front lines in the war against the Swarm.”
“What happened to the original transmitter at Cydonia?” Turcotte asked.
“Destroyed. And it wasn’t very powerful, just enough power to reach the nearest fleet base, which I assume no longer exists. I would further assume if the Airlia are going to the trouble of putting it on the volcano, they are building one powerful enough to reach back to the Airlia home system.”
“If the Airlia still exist,” Turcotte said.
Aspasia’s Shadow laughed. “They’ve been around much longer than humans will be. I’m sure at least their home system still exists.”
“So you were the traitor, not him,” Turcotte said. Aspasia’s Shadow had just confirmed Kincaid’s suspicions. There had been a small part of him that hoped Kincaid was wrong.
Aspasia’s Shadow shook his head. “Aspasia was the traitor. I am just a Shadow. Why should I be blamed for what he did? I have only the memories of it. I care nothing for the Airlia or their war or their civil war any longer. Or humans. Of course, neither does Artad or any of the Airlia. The Kortad are Airlia police, sent here to find out why he stopped communicating with the home world.”
“And why did he?” “It is not important.”
“What do you care about?” Turcotte demanded.
“Me.” Aspasia’s Shadow put the stones back in his pocket. “I am now immortal. Do you know how many times I died and was reincarnated over the millennia? Now is my time for”—he smiled once more—“my heaven, so to speak; my afterlife of reward for all my suffering.” His eyes lost their focus slightly. “I have Aspasia’s memories of the stars and the numerous worlds that circle them. There are wonders out there beyond your imaginings that I wish to see, places in the universe where I want to go. Much nicer places than this rock you call your home.”
Turcotte wondered why Aspasia’s Shadow had tried negotiating if he was confident in his immortality. Of course, from his experience with what had happened to Duncan, Turcotte also knew if he shot the creature it would kill him only for a little while. Immortality did not make Aspasia’s Shadow immune to damage or give him super strength as far as Turcotte knew.
“You can keep your sword,” Aspasia’s Shadow finally said, as if he knew exactly what Turcotte was thinking. “And the Master Guardian. For as much good as they will do you.”
“What do you want?” Turcotte asked. He wondered why Aspasia’s Shadow had been so concerned about the sword initially but now didn’t appear to care. Was the sword more important than just as the key to the Master Guardian? Was he trying to distract attention from it?
Aspasia’s Shadow pointed down. “The mothership. With it I can leave this planet, this entire area of the universe.”
“No.”
Aspasia’s Shadow put the Grail on the floor. “You can have that. And these.” He put the stones on the cloth covering it.
“No,” Turcotte repeated.
“And you can keep the key and the Master Guardian. We can off-load them anywhere you would like.” “No.”
“Give me the mothership. I am telling you I will leave. You’ll never be bothered by me again.” “And you’ll activate the interstellar drive and attract the Swarm here,” Turcotte said. He felt as if he had come full circle. He’d stopped the flight of the other mothership from Area 51 to prevent this very thing. He remembered Professor Nabinger decoding the rune writing on the Roro-roro tablets from Easter Island. It seemed so long ago. And Nabinger had died also, killed in China. Everything involving the Airlia stunk of death and deceit.
“Ah, the Swarm,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “The Ancient Enemy. But you know, of course, since you seem to know everything, that it is already here.”
“I know,” Turcotte said. “I saw one of the bodies recovered from Tunguska inside the Section IV archives. And I killed a tentacle that was inside one of my people on Mount Everest.”
For the second time Aspasia’s Shadow appeared surprised. “Interesting. So it stirs again.” “Again?” Turcotte asked.
“It tried to destroy Excalibur before,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “Why?”
“To strip the Airlia of their power here, just as you did by getting the sword and taking over the Master Guardian. It can be rather single-minded when it comes to pursuing its goals.”
“It almost succeeded,” Turcotte said. “It appears something survived the Tunguska explosion in 1908. A long time ago. And you, and Artad, the great defenders of mankind, did nothing.”
There was no longer any trace of a smile on Aspasia’s Shadow’s face. He regarded Turcotte with his dark eyes. “Yes. Something survived. An escape pod. With no means to communicate back to its fleet. Thus not a threat and no potential to be a threat. So we did nothing. In fact, doing something held more potential for disaster than doing nothing. The Swarm is a very patient species and I saw no reason to push it to action as recent events most likely have. This happened before — a Swarm escape pod making it to the surface. Long, long ago. In ancient Egypt, when the Airlia did do something and destroyed the scout ship. And nothing happened there and then either.”
“I think it has become a threat,” Turcotte said. He didn’t even realize he had lowered the MP-5. After all the battles, the desperate searching for information, he was beginning to find it strangely refreshing to be able to talk to someone who knew the truth. Even if it was a person who was responsible for millions of deaths and would easily lie if it suited his needs. Turcotte swung the gun back up as anger surged through him. “I think it took my friend. Dr. Duncan. And it has the Ark of the Covenant.”
A frown crossed Aspasia’s Shadow’s face, the first sign of concern, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. He saw that the look had been noted. “An old memory. Not mine. It is strange being me. I was born with a complete set of memories from someone who wasn’t me but was the formation of me. Who wasn’t even the same species.” He stared at Turcotte. “But perhaps you understand more of that than most?”
Turcotte didn’t reply, waiting.
“But I am not Aspasia,” Aspasia’s Shadow finally said. “Nor am I a man. I am human in body, but have lived hundreds of lifetimes. And now I am immortal.”
“As is Lisa Duncan,” Turcotte replied. “Why did the Swarm take her?”
“To try to learn the secret of her immortality and—” Aspasia’s Shadow paused. “And?”
“Where she came from and why she came here.”
Turcotte felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “‘Where’?” “What planet she came from.”
Turcotte heard Yakov’s sharp intake of breath.
“You really are so ignorant,” Aspasia’s Shadow said.
“I will give you the mothership for the truth,” Turcotte said.
“Truth?” Aspasia’s Shadow cocked his head slightly as if bemused. “What is truth? Human truth? Airlia truth? My truth? The truth of things among the cosmos? Even the Swarm has its truth. And do you know, that none of them quite line up? None of them agree. Truth is all about perception, which differs from person to person, and from species to species. You would not like the Swarm’s version of truth and they would care nothing for yours or any other species’ for that matter.”
Aspasia’s Shadow took a step closer. “We have battled before, you and I. Many times. Do you know that truth?”
“You lie,” Turcotte said, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew that they were wrong in some way. Aspasia’s Shadow’s words resonated in his head and he knew he had met the “man” before as he said. How could that be? There was too much he didn’t know. If Duncan’s past was a lie, was his own? Why did he have this strong connection to her if he had never met her before her ordering him to Area 51? Were his memories of Maine, of his mother and his military career all a lie, just as Duncan’s memories of her family and past were? He now understood her shock when he had confronted her at Area 51 with her false history. There was a pounding in his head, as if a spike were being driven into the rear part of his brain.