The Lost Command (Lost Starship Series Book 2)

by Heppner, Vaughn

  “Yes,” Maddox said, as if bored. “I am quite aware of the situation. Let us proceed. I am eager to find Meta and free her from the New Men.”

  “I should worry more about myself if I were you.”

  “But then I’m not,” Maddox said. “You are a disease-ridden old man. I am young and full of life. Let’s remember that, shall we?”

  “Sir,” Riker whispered in warning.

  With a slight hand motion, Maddox waved the sergeant off.

  Strand scowled fiercely, his old fingers tightening on the head of his cane. “Yes,” he said harshly. “The sooner we start, the sooner I’ll have you back with me.”

  “There you go,” Maddox said. “It’s a pleasure to watch a true optimist at work.”

  Riker shook his head but kept his comments to himself.

  Strand turned his attention to the proceedings below. It looked as if the doctors and their attendants were ready.

  Maddox slid forward, peering past the clear partition. Beefy attendants in white uniforms strapped Jacques into a bulky machine. They attached leads to his skin and placed a heavy helmet onto his shaved scalp.

  “What is that?” Riker whispered.

  “Another illegal device,” Maddox said. “It’s a mind scanner.”

  “They can read his thoughts with that?” the sergeant asked.

  “Nothing so direct,” Maddox said. “But it will give them access to his neural pathways. By an application of wattage, they can redirect his answers to truthful utterances. He will no longer be able to lie or equivocate.”

  “What?” Riker asked.

  “The machine forces him to tell the truth,” Maddox said.

  “Does the process hurt?” Riker asked.

  “We shall soon find out,” Maddox said.

  The captain proved correct as the doctors began the procedure. Jacques didn’t scream, but he moaned often, twisting within the constraints of the large machine. His limbs jerked at times.

  “Electrodes,” Maddox explained to Riker.

  “It’s inhuman,” the sergeant said.

  “Yet like many such devices of that nature, it works. Therein lies the dilemma for society.”

  As Strand supplied the head physician with questions, Jacques related the events of last evening. He told the story from his perspective. Beth Paris proved instrumental in their easy access to Meta’s apartment. The street thug gave a rundown of each member of the team.

  Maddox snapped his fingers. “I saw them,” he said.

  “Sir?” Riker asked.

  “In the main lobby of Dempsey Tower,” Maddox said. “I saw a red-haired girl and a large man that looked like an ex-professional athlete.”

  “Who was that, sir?” Riker asked.

  “This Mr. Kane Jacques is telling us about,” Maddox said.

  Down in the chamber, Jacques twisted on the bed of the mind scanner. His jaw sagged, and he seemed reluctant to say more.

  “Is there a mental block in place?” Strand asked the chief physician.

  “Just a minute, Signor Strand,” the chief doctor said. A nurse wiped a rag over the doctor’s sweaty brow. The physician tapped a panel, adjusting the scanner.

  Jacques arched his back with his mouth open and sweat staining his face. He was in agony.

  “Shut down level five!” the doctor shouted.

  Attendants flipped switches.

  On the scanner bed, Jacques began to blink rapidly and make choking sounds.

  “Break the mental block,” Strand ordered from the screen. “Don’t let him resist. Continue with level five.”

  “Signor—” the chief physician pleaded.

  “Do it!” Strand snapped.

  With seeming reluctance, the scanner team resumed questioning the patient, increasing the pain level.

  Strapped down on the bed, Jacques eyes bugged outward. His twisting caused him to rip loose from several leads. His fingers hooked like claws, he tore at the air. Suddenly, Jacques exhaled, sinking onto the couch, relaxing as he twitched his death throes.

  The chief doctor, a tall man, tore off his mask in disgust. He glared up at the screen showing Strand.

  “We lost him,” the doctor said.

  “Due to your incompetence,” Strand said.

  The tall physician looked away. He balled up his cloth mask, but made no more outbursts.

  “Bring in Cabot,” Strand said from the screen. “We will continue the questioning with him.”

  Cabot proved to have pale features and paler hair. He was tougher than Jacques had been, saying nothing as they hooked him to the mind scanner. Soon, Cabot told his story as the second-in-command, using a tangler to capture Meta. He added little to the tale.

  “Well,” Strand asked Maddox. “What do you make of this?”

  “Kane is the agent for the New Men,” the captain said.

  “Clearly,” Strand said. “It also appears he engineered Meta’s escape.”

  “Of course,” Maddox said.

  “The question is why.”

  “To cover his tracks,” Maddox said. “He took her, leaving these men to hide his trail.”

  “Why didn’t he kill them himself and simply take Meta?” Strand asked.

  “Perhaps in order to test Meta,” Maddox said.

  “I don’t believe that. There’s something else. Something we’re missing.”

  “Maybe he’s trying to break her,” Maddox said.

  “Explain that,” Strand said.

  “Kane set up the situation where she might free herself. Given that she did, he apprehended her. Maybe he believes if he can do that enough times, he will break her spirit.”

  “For what purpose?” Strand asked. “The New Men and their agents always do things for a logical reason.”

  Maddox shook his head. “I’d have to see Kane, talk to him.”

  “Yes,” Strand said. “Mr. Kane.” The old Methuselah Man on the screen peered down at the waiting team.

  Maddox thought back to the brief encounter with Kane in the Dempsey lobby. The captain had perfect recall. A red-haired woman had smiled at him. The big man with gray hair and a sports ring had frowned at him. What had he sensed during that brief encounter?

  Kane was obviously extraordinarily strong. What had he learned yesterday? Beth Paris had connections with the Chabot Consortium that owned the Rouen Colony. Meta originated from there. The consortium had practiced genetic manipulation on all the miners working there. Meta possessed denser muscles than ordinary people did. Paris had been eel-strong.

  The Chabot Consortium…did Kane have a connection with them? By his sheer physical bearing, it appeared so.

  “Here is a photograph of Mr. Kane,” Strand said on the screen.

  Maddox looked up. On the screen was a still-shot of the man. Yes. He was massive. Maddox had no doubt Kane had grown up on the two G Rouen Colony.

  The captain became thoughtful. The New Men were genetic supermen. That gave them a clear connection with the consortium.

  This is interesting, Maddox thought. Kane might have acted in his own interests, playing the charade with Meta for his own particular reasons. Did Kane know Meta personally from the Rouen Colony?

  “Is Kane a New Man?” Maddox asked.

  “He lacks golden skin,” Strand said, coming back online.

  “One would imagine that an easy problem to solve,” Maddox said.

  “Where would Kane go?” Strand asked. “Where would he take Meta?”

  Maddox closed his eyes. He had it. He knew how to find Kane. A slow smile curved onto his face. The man had a made a miscalculation last night. It would cost Kane. First, however, the captain needed freedom of movement.

  “What is it?” Strand said. “What have you discovered?”

  Maddox opened his eyes. “We need to talk.”

  “We’re talking now,” Strand said.

  “I mean person to person,” Maddox said.

  “I’m in Monte Carlo,” Strand said.

  “No, you’re not.
You rode in the same flyer we did.”

  Strand stared balefully at Maddox. Finally, the old man nodded. “Benito, escort the captain to my chamber. Signor,” the old man told the captain, “we will be in the same room, but a blast wall will separate us.”

  “I know how to find Kane,” Maddox said. “I want to bargain with you.”

  “I thought it might be something like that,” Strand said.

  Maddox felt the seven-foot combat specialist behind him, along with Benito’s four companions. As the captain stood, he glanced meaningfully at Riker. Then Maddox allowed Benito to propel him toward a door.

  As before, Maddox and Riker walked in front, with the five bodyguards in back. They moved through a narrow ship’s companionway.

  Suddenly, with a groan, Riker stumbled, collapsing onto the floor.

  “Sergeant,” Maddox said, turning, bending over him.

  “Back off,” Benito said.

  Maddox looked up. The seven-foot killer held the detonator switch. Reluctantly, the captain stood, backing away from the prone sergeant.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Benito said.

  “I was attempting to discover just that,” Maddox said.

  “If you do anything out of line…” Benito warned. He raised the switch.

  “Have you considered a problem with that?” Maddox asked. “If you detonate me, I’ll kill everyone in a nearby radius.”

  “Lucca,” Benito said. “Get the old fool on his feet.”

  Lucca stepped up and prodded Riker with the toe of his boot. The sergeant groaned. Lucca prodded him harder.

  “Pick him up,” Benito said.

  Lucca bent down, grabbing Riker, hoisting him to a standing position.

  “Old man,” Benito said.

  Lucca shook Riker. The sergeant opened his eyes, staring at Benito.

  “If you are faking, your captain is dead,” Benito said.

  “My chest,” Riker wheezed, and he sounded hurt. His knees buckled just then. Lucca grabbed him, and the sergeant hung on as if for support.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Maddox said.

  “Why do you have such an old aide helping you?” Benito asked.

  Lucca roared with agony. Sergeant Riker released the man’s arm where his bionic hand had crushed the flesh and broken the bone. As Lucca threw himself away from Riker, the sergeant smoothly drew the man’s stun gun from its holster.

  Without hesitation, Riker began beaming high-intensity shots at the other bodyguards. The discharges sounded harsh and evil within the confines of the corridor. Nearly invisible clots of force flashed. The sergeant shot each man in the chest, causing the giants to go rigid with pain.

  Maddox charged forward. He’d been waiting for this.

  Seven-foot Benito snarled with rage. The man’s big thumb stabbed down on the red button detonator. Absolutely nothing happened to Maddox. Benito pressed the switch a second time, using considerably more force than before.

  Captain Maddox kicked the giant savagely in the groin. Benito groaned, folding up. Maddox’s knee slammed up against the proffered chin. The giant’s head catapulted backward, with his body following.

  Riker’s stun gun clicked empty. He’d drained the charge.

  “Finish them, Sergeant. Don’t let them recover and turn the tables on us.”

  As Maddox spoke, he knelt by Benito, using his stiffened fingers to jab mercilessly into the giant’s throat. Benito gagged. Maddox thrust his knee on the bodyguard’s chest, stabilizing him enough to draw the man’s stun gun.

  Riker kicked one of the stirring guards in the head.

  “Duck!” Maddox shouted.

  The sergeant did, hitting the floor.

  Stunner discharges sounded. Maddox administered the coup de grace to each bodyguard, using a lower setting against their heads. It was dangerous to stun like this, and could accidently kill. But these giants were killers caught by surprise. If even one of them managed to draw his weapon and fire back, the fight could turn around to their advantage in quick order. Maddox did not fight in a sporting way. He fought to win. Not only Meta’s life was at stake. This was a war against the New Men, and Strand stood in the way.

  “Get up,” Maddox said, his voice full of command.

  Riker scrambled to his feet. The older man panted heavily. “They let us get the drop on them. They thought—” Riker’s eyes lofted in astonishment. He faced Maddox.

  “What about the bomb, sir? I thought Benito pressed the button.”

  “He did,” Maddox said. The captain rose from making sure each Nerva bodyguard was out. “Here,” he said, pitching extra charge clips to Riker.

  The sergeant reloaded his stun gun.

  “This way,” Maddox said, running down the corridor.

  “I don’t get it,” Riker said, dogging the captain’s heels. “How did you know the switch wouldn’t work?”

  “It did work,” Maddox said.

  “How’d you rig it so Strand would fail to match the right frequency?”

  “He matched the frequency just fine,” Maddox said.

  “Then I don’t understand, sir.”

  “The carbon device in my stomach only simulates a bomb. You don’t think I’d actually put a live explosive in my gut, do you? That’s madness, Sergeant.”

  Riker could only blink in astonishment and then chagrin.

  “Damn,” Maddox said, as he ducked back within the hatch leading outside onto the main deck.

  Riker looked up.

  “The flyer is taking off,” Maddox said. “I suspect Strand is aboard,”

  “Why is Strand running away? We only have stun guns.”

  Maddox lifted the communicator he’d taken off Benito. In seconds, he connected with Brigadier O’Hara.

  “Where have you been, Captain?” the Iron Lady demanded. “There is an interstellar emergency going on. I demand your immediate presence here in Geneva.”

  “You’ll have to home in on this communicator, ma’am. I’m on a Nerva ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “What?” she asked. “The Atlantic Ocean, you say? How in the world did you get there? Wait. Don’t answer that. Did you say I needed to home in on your signal?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Maddox replied.

  “Just a minute,” she said. “Yes, there, I have a fix. A team will be there in less than ten minutes. Can you survive that long?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be in the water, by the way, some distance from the communicator.”

  “Your situation is critical?” she asked.

  “Indeed, ma’am,” Maddox said. “Now I must go.” He turned to Riker. “Into the drink, Sergeant.” The captain pitched the comm-unit away, peered outside the hatch, looking both ways, and ducked back in.

  “What’s going on, sir?”

  “Follow me.” Maddox darted out of the hatch and sprinted to the side of the deep-sea vessel. With his hands on the railing, he vaulted over the side.

  The two Star Watch operatives struck the water, escaping from the Nerva hunters who had begun a manhunt for them.

  All the while, the big Nerva flyer dwindled as it climbed into the starry sky.

  -11-

  Several hours later, a perturbed Captain Maddox sat in Star Watch Headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland.

  A combat team had fished the two of them out of the ocean, rushing them to the continent. The combat team had let the Nerva liner go, and as far as Maddox knew, Strand was back in Monte Carlo.

  The team commander had been a tight-lipped commando, with nothing to say to Maddox. That told him the situation was dire.

  The captain presently sat in the office of Mary O’Hara, the head of Star Watch Intelligence on Earth.

  A side door opened, and O’Hara walked in briskly. She was a gray-haired lady with a matronly image. Despite the image, she had one of the cleverest minds in Star Watch, and was a key reason why humanity continued to resist the New Men’s infiltration tactics.

  “Ma’am,” Maddox
said. “This is an emergency. The New Men have Meta, or one of their agents does. We must—”

  “Not now, Captain,” O’Hara said, sitting behind her large synthi-wood desk.

  The answered surprised him. “I’m not sure you’re hearing me, ma’am.”

  “I heard you quite well. The New Men have Meta. Yes, that’s a tragedy. But we have far greater troubles on our hands. I’ll search for Meta once you’re gone.”

  Maddox blinked with surprise. “But ma’am—”

  “Several months ago, the New Men smashed the Fifth Fleet at Caria 323,” O’Hara said.

  “Excuse me?” Maddox asked.

  “With Admiral Fletcher out of the way,” O’Hara continued, “the entire “C” Quadrant is exposed. Worse, the enemy could conceivably be driving to Earth to bombard our planet. As much as I appreciate Meta, this takes precedence, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Maddox stared at O’Hara as he ingested her words. The gears in his mind began to shift focus.

  “You’re speaking about Admiral Fletcher’s battle group?” he asked.

  “Fleet, Captain, it was Admiral Fletcher’s fleet. In point of fact, it was the largest fleet we have other than the one guarding the Solar System.”

  “Fletcher’s fleet was annihilated?” Maddox asked, trying to wrap his mind around that.

  O’Hara compressed her lips and massaged her forehead. A haunted look appeared in her eyes.

  Maddox sat back in his chair, stunned. “All those ships…”

  “Well, not exactly all,” the Iron Lady said. “The fleet took staggering losses, but it’s still a few months away from complete destruction.”

  The captain stared at her. “There’s a situation, I take it.”

  “Quite, and it’s unbelievable.”

  Maddox waited, wondering what had happened in Caria 323. Fletcher was one of the best Star Watch fighting admirals there was. The man wouldn’t have panicked. Yet, Maddox didn’t think the admiral could have outmaneuvered the New Men. Would Fletcher have been foolish enough to try?

  O’Hara began to explain in a low voice, with her eyes unfocused. “The New Men engaged the fleet in Caria 323, as I’ve said. With Commodore Garcia’s help, Fletcher attempted a clever trap. Somehow, the enemy knew about it. The New Men’s counter maneuver bordered on the miraculous.”