The Lost Command (Lost Starship Series Book 2)

by Heppner, Vaughn

  Now what should she do? Normally, she would have attacked. The man was incredibly powerful, though. He was more than human. Maybe he was a New Man, a different variety than the golden-skinned kind.

  I have to kick him in the head as hard as I can.

  Meta gathered herself and began to creep toward him.

  Abruptly, Kane lifted his head. He no longer snored, and he didn’t seem weary or groggy in the slightest.

  “Who are you really?” Meta asked.

  His granite gaze bored into hers. A mocking smile touched his lips.

  “Are you a New Man?” she asked.

  “Can you take me down, Meta?” he asked in his deep voice.

  “I can try.”

  “Yes, you can do that.”

  “Did you know Baron Chabot?” she asked. “I killed him with my bare hands.”

  “I know you did,” Kane said.

  “How do you know? Who are you?”

  “I am Kane,” he said.

  “Whose side are you on?”

  He cocked his square head. “Whose side are you on, Meta?”

  “Humanity’s,” she said.

  “Why? What have the humans ever done for you?”

  “The question implies that you’re not human,” Meta said.

  “I’m not like them,” Kane said. “I’m not weak and pliable. I’m not a victim to my emotions and to sloth. Their era has passed, Meta. The cattle will die out fast once the war enters high gear. Their only strength is their numbers. Fleas could make the same boast.”

  “These fleas have hurt the New Men before,” Meta said.

  “That still doesn’t answer why you want to be on their side,” Kane said. “Look at you, stronger and better than any of them. Why shackle yourself with weaklings.”

  “They’re my friends,” Meta said.

  “They’re pathetic, outdated and obsolete,” Kane told her.

  “Yet, you hide from them. Why is that? The answer is obvious, because you’re afraid of them. Do you fear weaklings, Kane?”

  “I recognize their strength of numbers. They were here before us. They won’t be here after us.”

  “Is this a sales pitch?” Meta asked. “Are you asking me to join your side?”

  Kane raised his arm, pulling back a sleeve, checking his chronometer.

  “Are we’re in space?” Meta asked.

  “You already know the answer to that,” Kane said. “Don’t ask me useless questions. You don’t need to speak just to hear your own voice. You’re not like them.”

  “What is your rank?” Meta asked. “What kind of reward do you gain by risking your life among the weaklings?”

  Kane looked away.

  Meta moved then, leaping from a standing position. She lashed out with her right foot. It would have been better to gather herself into a coil before she sprang at him. It would have given him advance warning, though. She tried for an unexpected blow, and it worked, catching Kane by surprise.

  Her foot struck his head. She felt the impact and watched him catapult away from her. He groaned. It made her feel triumphant.

  Landing, she aimed a second kick at him. He rolled but not quite fast enough. She clipped his head, landed and skipped as his right arm tried to sweep her off her feet.

  He began to rise, and she could tell he was woozy from her first kick. She took three quick steps back before running at him, launching off her feet. Both her feet connected against his chest. He crashed back against the wall. She fell heavily onto her side.

  Meta scrambled upright, taking a combat stance.

  Kane squeezed his eyes shut and opened them, staring at her as he lay on the floor.

  “You remind me of my father,” Meta said. “We wrestled, and he taught me to box. Hitting you is like hitting him. You’re from the Rouen Colony. I remember your type. Were you an enforcer for the baron?”

  Kane closed his eyes again, and he inhaled deeply, opening them, attempting to rise. He failed.

  “I kicked you hard,” Meta said.

  He glared at her.

  “Did the New Men bring their genetic technology to the Rouen Colony?” she asked. “Are we an outpost for them?” Her eyes widened. “Am I one of them?”

  Slowly, Kane reached inside his jacket. Meta let him draw his gun. Then, she kicked it out of his hand. It went spinning and struck a wall.

  She went to the gun and picked it up. It was heavy, a big instrument. This had to be a .55 caliber weapon. She stepped near Kane and aimed the gun at his head.

  “Time to talk,” she said. “Who are you really?”

  Kane stared at her.

  “You said we had time to kill.” Meta grinned. “Where are we headed?”

  “You need me,” Kane told her.

  “Tell me why, and I might let you live. If you don’t, if you keep up this tough guy routine, I’ll put a bullet in your brain. You’ve manhandled me too much for my pride. Do you understand?”

  “You wouldn’t comprehend if I told you the truth,” Kane said.

  “Let’s give it a whirl, shall we? Why did you want to know about Professor Ludendorff?”

  Kane studied her, and she didn’t think he would talk. The man surprised Meta by saying, “Ludendorff originally found Starship Victory in the Beyond.”

  “That’s what Dana told us, yes.”

  “We already knew that, of course,” Kane said. “We knew Ludendorff had figured out certain qualities about the starship. Why didn’t he board it when he was there?”

  “Dana mutinied,” Meta said. “She forced Ludendorff to leave the alien star system. The doctor didn’t want to board the ancient ship, thinking it too risky.”

  “Ah,” Kane said. “So that’s why Ludendorff fled to Paladin IV. He was forced into it.”

  “You can’t even get your facts right,” Meta said with a sneer. She was enjoying this. “Ludendorff went to Wolf Prime.”

  “Dana knew that as a fact?”

  “No, but that was her best guess. Ludendorff had a thing for the winter world. He’s crazy about alien archeology.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me these things earlier?” Kane asked. “It would have saved us so much trouble.”

  “You wanted to know too badly,” Meta said. “Now, where is our ship headed?”

  “We’re in a container hauler,” Kane said.

  “A Nerva hauler?” she asked.

  “No. A Cestus Company ship. In case you’re interested, it will let us off eventually so we can race to the Nexus.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Meta asked. “Some secret spy base the New Men have built within the Commonwealth.”

  Kane gave her a rare smile. “The Nexus is one of the ancient devices the professor yearns to find. We will use the Nexus to leap into “C” Quadrant. Afterward, you and I shall journey to Wolf Prime.”

  “I don’t think so, Kane. This is the end of the road for you.” Meta targeted his forehead.

  Kane chuckled in his deep voice and began to rise. He didn’t seem weak anymore.

  Meta pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked, but nothing else happened. “What is this?” she said. “What are you trying now?”

  “A slight change in tactics,” Kane said.

  Meta realized he’d tricked her. With a sinking feeling, she reversed her grip on the gun and charged, swinging. He took the blow on his shoulder. Then he reached out, digging his strong fingers into her shoulder.

  Meta cried out. Kane was unbelievably strong.

  Deftly, Kane turned her around, swinging her wrists together. He snapped cuffs onto them and shoved her hard. Staggering, she still managed to turn, hitting the wall with her left shoulder and sliding down onto the floor.

  “Time to sleep, Meta.”

  Kane moved fast at her. She struggled. He knelt on her chest and pressed a hypo against her neck. With a hiss of air, he injected something into her.

  “Why do this?” she asked.

  Kane waited.

  Soon enough, Meta’s e
yes flickered as she fought to remain awake. It didn’t matter. Her eyes closed as she went out for the count.

  ***

  “It’s time,” Kane said.

  Meta looked up from where she was curled on the floor. They were in the same room as before. She lay on a thin pad.

  “Get up,” Kane told her.

  Meta did so stiffly.

  They’d been in the compartment a week maybe. Meta didn’t know how much time she’d been out after the injection, so it could have been longer. Every two days, Kane opened a side panel, allowing her to shower. They ate iron rations and did nothing other than endless pushups, sit-ups and deep-knee bends.

  Kane had little need for conversation. The man sat for hours staring at a wall. The performance seemed inhuman. Meta had become stir-crazy and tried to engage him on anything: art, guns, fighting technique, you name it. The man had finally told her to shut up. Kane said he couldn’t concentrate with her jabber.

  Now, it was time for something. Meta didn’t know what it could be except for the mysterious Nexus Kane had mentioned.

  The thrum around them had changed from time to time, and they had slight acceleration and deceleration. It told her the Cestus Company container-ship went into and out-of Laumer-Points. The nausea of Jump Lag also told her that. Once, the lights had flickered before stabilizing. What had that been about?

  Kane had watched her carefully afterward, only relaxing after a soft whoosh of air pushed through the vents.

  Meta decided both events had been signals. For what, though, she had no idea. Maybe Star Watch officials had inspected the hauler.

  “Open the hatch,” Kane said.

  Meta tried. The mechanism had been locked before. Now, it opened into a steel corridor.

  They began walking down the passageway. They did that for kilometers, taking endless twists and turns.

  “How big is this ship?” Meta asked.

  “They don’t make them any larger,” Kane told her.

  Those were their only words during three hours of trekking. A half hour later, they came to a blue-colored hatch. All the others had been gray.

  “Stop here,” Kane said.

  Meta did, glancing back at him.

  The big man took a comm-unit out of a gray suit pocket. He checked the unit and put it back in his pocket. What had he been searching for?

  “Open the hatch,” he said.

  Meta shrugged and did as he bid, swinging the hatch open. The air that rolled into her face smelled stale. That made her nervous and hesitant, and she didn’t like how dark the corridor was. Everywhere else it had been lit.

  “Go,” Kane ordered.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. His expression seldom changed. He almost seemed emotionless.

  “Go,” he said again, pushing her from behind, making her stumble through the hatch.

  She banged her right shin, and that hurt. “Maybe if you could tell me what’s going on,” she said, angrily.

  Kane didn’t respond.

  Meta endured the throbbing and began to pay attention. The passageway became progressively darker. Soon, she felt her way forward by hand. Would this be the time to try something? Just before she turned around to attack, he clicked something, and a spotlight gave her illumination.

  She looked back. Kane held his comm-unit, shining the back of it at her.

  He had a wintery grin. “You’re so predictable,” he rumbled. “It’s your greatest weakness.”

  Meta bit back a retort, soon coming to another hatch. This one looked different, like it belonged to a small ship.

  “Open it,” Kane said.

  “You don’t say much,” she said.

  “There is no need.”

  She waited for him to tell her to open it again. He didn’t. Instead, he shoved her left shoulder. Meta got the point. She opened the hatch, entering a musty-smelling ship. It had lights.

  The place reminded her of the Geronimo.

  Kane closed the hatch. Then, he propelled her down a short corridor to a control room. There were three seats. Kane ordered her to sit in the leftmost one. He took the center chair.

  With obviously practiced ease, Kane began turning on the scout ship.

  The air cyclers dumped tainted air into the chamber. That changed within minutes, becoming fresh if cold. More lights came on. The engaging engine caused the small craft to shiver with power.

  “Buckle in,” Kane said.

  Meta complied.

  Blast doors slid away from the scout’s viewing port. It showed Meta a large hangar bay. Long containers were piled in rows almost to the ceiling on either side of them. There was only a narrow aisle for the spaceship.

  “Are you any good flying this thing?” Meta asked.

  Kane didn’t bother answering. He took the controls. With a lurch, their craft lifted. Carefully, the big man maneuvered the ship down the narrow aisle, turning onto a new one several times. Finally, they reached the hangar bay door. It was open. Stars shined outside.

  “Where are we?” Meta asked.

  Without a word, Kane flew through the opening into space.

  Meta got some idea of the size of the Cestus Company hauler. It was huge, vast, far bigger than any military machine. It approached the size of a Spacer’s home ship.

  Craning her head, Meta glimpsed giant numbers painted on the hauler.

  Kane flew away from the massive ship. He pressed a button, and the scout’s engine revved with power. A second later, gravity dampeners hummed into life. Then, thrust pushed Meta back in her seat.

  “We’re going to accelerate for a time,” Kane told her. “Get as comfortable as you can.”

  Meta listened. She’d learned that Kane didn’t speak without purpose.

  For the next seven hours, bone-wearying G forces pressed her against the chair. The little ship must really be building up its velocity.

  “We can’t be in the Solar System,” Meta said once.

  Kane didn’t bother replying.

  Meta closed her eyes. The man irritated her. How could he be so self-contained? He exuded too much confidence.

  It’s true Maddox was similar, but there were subtle differences. For one thing, the captain cared about the team. There was also a hidden loneliness to Maddox. The longer she had been with him, the more Meta had come to realize this truth. The captain strove for perfection because he had to hide his differences behind success. She wished they had never gotten into that stupid argument in New York City. Her pride had gotten in the way.

  Without warning, Kane shut off the thruster. The grinding G forces relented as regular gravity returned to the scout.

  “Sleep if you can,” he said.

  “Here in the chair?” she asked.

  Kane just looked at her.

  Meta adjusted to a more comfortable position. She closed her eyes. She was tired and fell almost instantly asleep.

  She awoke to Kane’s voice, raising her head to look at him.

  “We’re going to brake,” he said. “Get ready for heavy Gs.”

  “Are we in that great of a hurry?” she asked.

  For an answer, deceleration hit hard and kept pressing her into the seat for hours.

  Finally, that too ended. She saw a gas giant, a green planet. It grew larger hour by hour.

  “Is there a Laumer-Point nearby?” she asked.

  “You already know there is,” Kane said.

  Meta hid her surprise, and she said nothing. It made her angry how happy she was to have him talk to her. Was that by his design? Kane didn’t look it, but the man was incredibly crafty.

  The scout neared the Jovian planet. Kane began searching for the Laumer-Point. Some were harder to find than others. The bigger the entrance, the more readily apparent. By his searching, this must be a tiny jump point.

  “Where are we headed?” Meta asked.

  Kane paused in his efforts, giving her a faint smile.

  “Oh,” Meta said.

  Kane went back to work.

&n
bsp; A little over an hour later, a beep sounded. Kane sat back, grunting. He lurched forward a second later. His thick fingers blurred as they typed across the panel.

  The scout headed for a shimmering point in space.

  “Three, two, one…zero,” Kane said.

  Meta gritted her teeth. The scout entered the tiny Laumer-Point. In the blink of the proverbial eye, the spaceship exited a different Laumer-Point light years away from where they’d started.

  Groaning, Meta strove to regain her equilibrium. She hated jumping.

  The scout’s systems began to come back online. Kane stirred in his seat. Swiveling his chair, the big man vomited onto the floor twice. Finally, he took out a rag and wiped his mouth. Then, he unbuckled, took out an emergency kit and cleaned up the mess.

  Meta was surprised he hadn’t tried to make her do it. Maybe the show of weakness embarrassed him. It was hard to know.

  Kane sprayed a deodorizer in the cabin. He shoved the mess into a disposal unit and resumed his pilot’s chair. Finally, he engaged thrusters.

  Eight hours later, the small ship approached a thick asteroid belt.

  That surprised Meta. Many people had an odd idea of what an asteroid belt consisted of. They watched movies showing rocks tumbling in visible sight of each other. Meta didn’t know of any asteroid belt like that. Usually, the various-sized rocks were hundreds of thousands of kilometers apart. That these were so close together that she could see them outside the viewing port—

  “This isn’t a natural formation,” Meta said. “Someone put all these rocks out here.”

  “Obviously,” Kane said.

  “Who?” she asked.

  Kane didn’t respond. He began to fly through the asteroid field. It took several hours.

  Later, Meta leaned forward. She spied something silvery bright out there. Pointing, she asked, “Is that where we’re headed?”

  “Yes.”

  The same shiver of delight as before coursed through her. Why did she need to talk? Kane didn’t have that need. Was that natural on his part? Or was it conditioning on someone else’s part?

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “The Nexus,” Kane said.

  Meta glanced at him. “You said before the Nexus was alien.”