The Lost Tech

by Vaughn Heppner

“I dislike the ordeal,” he said in an even voice. “But I don’t fear it.”

  “You’re more cunning than you used to be, Dagobert. But don’t think that you’re smarter or more guileful than I am. In that sense, you are still as Dagobert compared to me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I am the subject, and you are the Queen. You give the orders, and I obey them. While I might feign subservience, you will know if I mean it or not and will act accordingly.”

  She stared at him coldly.

  With an inward start, Dag realized that he understood her worry. Had she made him too smart? That meant he had to reassure her. The question was, how? He didn’t know. Maybe he was talking too much and had revealed too much about himself. While he sounded smarter than his earlier self, there was still much he did not understand. I should wait, and I shouldn’t try to show off any cleverness, not until I know more.

  He crouched, picking the book off the floor, holding it with both hands as he straightened.

  “I’ve seen enough for the moment,” she said. “Read your book. Relax. I have a surprise for you…in a few hours, say.”

  “May I ask what kind of surprise?”

  She smiled as a leopard might while watching young baboons frolicking alone. “I know far more about these matters than anyone suspects. I used an old method…an unpleasant but functional method. Part of the process, as you put it, was to stun your brain, your dull Dagobert brain. That came from a terrible beating, a clubbing from Merovingians that hate you, as you slew their friends and threatened to supplant the other.”

  Dag frowned as an odd feeling began to build in his heart. He wasn’t aware of it, but he was twisting the hardcover book in his hands.

  Suppressing a laugh, the Queen turned, heading for the hatch, which opened, showing a team of Merovingians waiting outside. Among them was Tobias.

  Dag growled low in his throat, and he had an impulse to hurl the book at his former tormenter. He checked the impulse, but his hands tightened, twisting the book and breaking the spine. He turned away lest the impulse overpower him.

  I must think, he told himself. I must carefully think this through, before she uses me the way the others once controlled Dagobert.

  -26-

  The appointed surprise came after Dag finished reading the story about Buck the dog turned wild. The freedom of the wolves had called to Buck, and he had left civilization to not only join but to lead the wild lupus canines.

  Is that me? Is that what I’m going to do?

  Dag had thought long and hard about Tobias, about the others who had beaten him senseless. Yet, was that entirely true? According to the Queen, they had helped to beat him into greater intelligence and possibly into a greater warrior.

  I fought hard in the past because I went berserk. I was single-minded because I could only hold one thought at a time. Now, I can hold multiple thoughts. The berserk single-mindedness might be beyond me now.

  Was it possible to fight with cold berserk fury and still use his cunning? That was a contradiction in terms. But if he could master such a thing—I would be unstoppable.

  The reading-room hatch opened, and a team of armored Merovingians waited outside. Their leader requested his presence.

  Dag went through the hatch and walked in their midst as they escorted him down the corridors. He had many questions. He did not ask them, however. He noted their unease, how their hands stayed near their belted batons. They feared him, and he wasn’t sure why. Since he did not desire another brain bashing, he walked as meekly as possible.

  Finally, they brought him to another hatch. It opened. Dag looked at them. The squad leader used his baton to point into the chamber.

  Without thinking about it, Dag snatched the end of the baton and yanked it out of the other’s hand. The other stared at him with shock and then shifted forward onto his armored toes.

  “Don’t,” Dag said, his menacing tone conveying more than the single word.

  The squad leader’s armored fists dropped to his sides as the Merovingian stepped back, crowding two of the others behind him.

  Dag eyed them, believing them sufficiently cowed before he turned his back on them. He held the baton along his right leg as he entered the chamber.

  It was huge. Yes. It was a hangar bay with portable stands enough for hundreds of observers. Hundreds sat on the stands waiting, including fifty Merovingians in their own section. They were notable by their size and arrogant demeanors. The Queen sat in a special box, with her commanders, renegade Star Watch officers and an elite Merovingian guard behind the seated group.

  “Dagobert Dan,” said a man with a loudspeaker. He stood in her box near the Queen. “Approach her Majesty,” he said.

  Dag did as ordered, walking in silence between the stands of seated spectators. He realized in a moment that he was not walking as he would have in the past. Then, he would have hunched his shoulders, glancing around in fear of making a mistake.

  Fake them out, Dag thought. Don’t let them know yet that you’re…better than before. Suiting thought to action, he lowered his shoulders and began peering about in a nervous way. Yes. This would likely help him in a few minutes. He needed to act like Dagobert, not Dag, until the right moment for him to reveal his new self.

  Shuffling, hunching, Dag reached the front of the box, not daring to look at the Queen sitting up there.

  “Dagobert Dan,” said the man with the loudspeaker. “Look up to address your Queen.”

  Dag raised his head slowly as if frightened and unsure. His gaze met the Queen’s. His darted away quickly as he would have done in the past.

  “Dagobert?” she said, sounding disappointed.

  He nodded without looking at her a second time.

  “Look at me, Fighter.”

  Timidly, he did so, his gaze sliding away only to stare into her eyes once again.

  She was frowning. Then, she seemed to have an insight, as she sat back and touched her mouth. Finally, she spoke quietly to the man with the loudspeaker.

  He aimed it at the spectators. “Today,” the man said. “We have a challenge for the leadership of the Merovingians. Tobias the Champion has agreed to kill the interloper Dagobert Dan. On the other hand, the interloper below desires to lead the Merovingians. He has claimed the right and suggested he has the ability to defeat the Champion.

  A number of boos sounded from the stands.

  Dag twitched and looked about.

  A few others in the stands laughed at his stupid ways.

  At that point, Tobias the Champion appeared from the same hatch Dag had entered a few minutes ago. He wore Merovingian armor and held a white lance. It lacked an opening for fiery liquid, but it did have a gleaming steel tip. Tobias proudly sauntered toward the Queen’s box.

  “What do you hold in your hand, Dagobert?” the Queen asked.

  Dag whirled around again to peer up at her.

  She winked subtly at him.

  She knows I’m faking being stupid. Maybe she really is as intelligent as she thinks she is. I must proceed carefully indeed.

  He held up the baton.

  “Oh, no, Dagobert,” she said. “You don’t need that for this fight. Throw it away. If you need it, you’re not the Merovingian I think you are.”

  He debated disobeying her, but immediately realized the futility of that. He was supposed to move quicker than normal—quicker than a normal Merovingian: a contradiction in terms, as no Merovingian was normal.

  Dag flung the baton from him, and it clattered across the hangar-bay deck. Then, with hunched shoulders, not looking directly at Tobias, he shuffled toward the approaching champion.

  Tobias halted, and he raised his lance one-handed. “I fight for the Queen.”

  Dag halted.

  “Who do you fight for, fool?” Tobias shouted at him.

  Dag straightened from his hunched position and raised his long, muscular arms into the air. He raised his head and stared at Tobias with his Greek-style helmet with the Y opening for his mo
uth and eyes. Dag kept that pose, waiting, deciding to unnerve the champion.

  “I asked you a question,” Tobias said.

  Dag lowered his arms and began to march purposefully at Tobias. As he did, rage ignited in his breast. He remembered how Tobias had clubbed and clubbed him. He recalled the nightmares and hellish torments. Dag did not realize it, but he ground his teeth, a wretched noise.

  “Come kiss death,” Tobias shouted, and he began to stalk his prey, with the steel lance aimed at Dag.

  Dag closed and opened his hands as a tingling sensation raced through his massive body. His features twisted as he felt the berserkergang threaten to overwhelm his senses.

  “Tobias!” he screamed, breaking into a sprint.

  The champion halted, setting himself. Dag rushed at him, bellowing at the top of his lungs and gashing his teeth as spittle flew from his mouth.

  Did Tobias’s heart race with fear? His wide eyes showed that he was worried. Faith in his armor and spear likely fortified him.

  Dag rushed the other like a madman.

  Tobias waited, and then he thrust the lance—

  Dag understood his enemy’s plan the moment Tobias put more weight onto his toes. Dag saw, and his speeded neural reactions allowed him to slide feet-first as he threw his torso and head back like a runner sliding into second base. Dag slid under the lance thrust, and his sliding feet smashed against Tobias’s armored ankles. There came a crack, a snap of bones, and Dag knocked Tobias off balance and then violently to the deck. The lance went flying as Tobias released it.

  Both men sprang up. Tobias shrieked in pain, one of his ankles shattered and unable to hold up his weight. He crumbled to the deck and he slid around, rising to his knees to face a quietly waiting Dag.

  Tobias sweated and panted. “Well…” he said.

  Dag moved closer and then lashed out with his right foot, connecting with Tobias’s helmeted face, knocking him onto his back.

  Tobias shouted in fear and climbed back up to his knees, blood seeping from his nose and staining the front of his armored chest.

  As he did, Dag walked to the fallen lance, picking it up. He did not look to the Queen, although he was sure she would have liked that. Instead, he sauntered back to Tobias, and offered the weapon to him butt first.

  Tobias snatched it, shuffling away on his knees, keeping the lance point aimed at Dag.

  Dag folded his arms, staring at the champion. “Do you remember beating me?” he asked in a mild voice.

  Tobias did not answer as fear showed in his eyes.

  “I asked you a question, fool,” Dag said.

  “What did you do to him?” Tobias screamed at the Queen. “He’s not the same.”

  Dag glanced back over his shoulder.

  The Queen whispered to the man with the loudspeaker.

  “Kill him if you can,” said the man with the loudspeaker.

  Dag looked back at Tobias and shrugged, walking toward him.

  “No!” Tobias shouted. “Keep back. I’ll skewer you like a pig if you get too close.”

  Dag continued his pace.

  Tobias gripped the lance and thrust.

  Dag stepped aside as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He grabbed the lance with one hand, doing so just behind the steel blade. With a sudden wrench, he yanked the lance out of Tobias’s hands.

  “No!” Tobias howled.

  “Hey,” Dag said.

  A hunch-shouldered Tobias stared at him.

  Dag reversed his hold and gripped the lance like a javelin. “Are you ready to die?” he asked.

  Tobias shuddered.

  Dag hesitated; he wasn’t sure why, but something nibbled at the back of his brain. He stepped back and looked at the crowd before focusing on the seated Merovingians. They watched intensely… Dag’s mind went into overdrive: The Queen wanted warriors, super-soldiers to do her bidding. She had plans, big plans, no doubt. She’d allowed Tobias to remain as the champion even though he’d failed to capture Captain Maddox. Others had done it after Tobias failed. The Queen had used Tobias to help create—

  “Me,” Dag whispered under his breath.

  Yes. The Queen wanted him to become the new champion. She had a task for him… If he slew Tobias too easily, the Merovingians would certainly fear him but would they follow him with joy, with love and real respect? That seemed unlikely. He wanted to bind the Merovingians to him. The question was, how could his actions here help him do that? Warriors loved honor, and warriors loved an inspiring leader. How could he inspire the Merovingians through this fight? How could he begin to weld them to him instead of to the Queen?

  Then, it became clear to him.

  Dag raised the lance, speaking loudly, “I could skewer you, Tobias, as I have defeated you. Or do you think that you can still kill me?”

  “I’m the Champion!” Tobias screamed.

  “Oh, really?” Dag tossed the lance to the side. He knew how to do this. Tobias might always hate him no matter what, but he could deal with that. Yes. It was time to show mercy…and to make Tobias fear with great trembling.

  Dag walked toward the kneeling champion.

  “No!” Tobias howled, swinging his fists as Dag neared.

  Dag slapped the armored fists away every time Tobias tried to connect. It took some doing, but soon enough, Tobias panted, exhausted, his wearied arms hanging at his sides. At that point, Dag reached out and yanked the helmet from Tobias’s head. Dag donned the helmet—the damp inner pads stank of sweat—and stepped behind Tobias, gripping the man’s sweat-drenched head.

  “I’ll grant you mercy, Tobias,” Dag shouted to the stands. “I will let you follow me as the new champion, if you declare yourself defeated. Speak, if you wish to live.”

  Tobias was shaking.

  Dag applied pressure, squeezing the man’s head and turning it to the left ever so slowly. There was resistance because of the man’s neck muscles and bones, but it would not prove enough of a protection.

  “No!” Tobias howled, clutching at Dag’s hands, trying to wrestle them away. Unfortunately for Tobias, he was too exhausted and Dag too damn powerful.

  “This is your final chance,” Dag shouted.

  There was a fractional pause, then: “Dagobert Dan is the Champion!” Tobias screamed. “He’s the best! He’s the victor!”

  Dag released Tobias’s head and stepped back. Tobias shuffled around on his knees and stared up at him in misery. Dag held out a hand. Tobias stared at him in wonder.

  “If you take my hand, you can live as a Merovingian warrior in my corps,” Dag said.

  Tobias stared at him longer and with a shaking hand reached out.

  Dag gripped the hand and pulled Tobias up onto his good leg. Then, he faced the Queen’s box and raised his right arm.

  She stood as she studied him closely before turning to the man with the loudspeaker.

  The man said, “The Queen is changing your name from Dagobert Dan to Dag the Champion. You are the new leader of the Merovingians. You are the greatest of her warriors. Let all rejoice at your victory.”

  The stands erupted into cheers and wild clapping.

  Dag nodded, turning to face the spectators. He had defeated Tobias. He was the new champion. He wondered why it didn’t taste more glorious.

  It’s a step, he realized. A step to what, he did not know. But it was a step toward a future greatness he could not yet foresee. One thing was clear: any misstep would end in his death.

  He smiled for the first time and felt elation. He was on a path to greatness and would certainly face many challenges along the way. What did the Queen hold in store for him next? She would try to use him for her advantage, but he had to make sure he used her for his.

  This is exciting. I can hardly wait for the next move.

  -27-

  Since leaving orbit around Tortuga, Starship Victory had been using a combination of Laumer Point travel and star-drive jumps as it headed toward the 82 G. Eridani System. During that time, Maddox had spok
en to Professor Ludendorff about Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers, the Merovingians, transfer gates and the unfathomable assault upon Olmstead. The professor had listened more than commented, which wasn’t his usual approach to such matters.

  Maddox had been wondering about that and asked Meta for any insights one evening as the two of them prepared for sleep after making athletic love.

  There was a nightlight in the chamber facing Meta’s side of the king-sized bed. It provided enough illumination as Maddox did his stretches. He reached for the ceiling and then bent forward and put his palms on the floor. It was the beginning of a variety of stretches that helped to keep him limber.

  Meta had the covers pulled up to her chin as she watched her husband. She was beautiful, with lovely long blonde hair. The rest of her wasn’t visible, but she was a curvaceous, well-endowed woman with the strength to match, as she had grown up on a 2-G planet. Like the captain, she had been physically enhanced from conception.

  At last, Maddox completed his routine and climbed into bed. He leaned over and kissed his wife, reaching under the covers to touch her wonderful left hip. Then he leaned back, resting his head on his pillow.

  “He’s been too quiet,” Maddox said.

  “Usually you complain that Ludendorff talks too much,” Meta said with her eyes closed.

  The captain grunted. “He has a thing for Lisa Meyers, I think.”

  “Oh?”

  “The Methuselah Woman impresses him. How many people have impressed Ludendorff before?”

  “According to him, none,” Meta said.

  “Could Ludendorff be holding back on us?”

  “Because he has a thing for Lisa Meyers?” asked Meta.

  Maddox glanced at his wife. “He hasn’t set out for Brahma.”

  Brahma was the Indian/Hindu colonized planet where Ludendorff had first met Dana Rich, who had once been part of Victory’s crew and the professor’s woman.

  “Maybe he no longer feels worthy of Dana,” Meta said.

  “Are we talking about the same professor?”

  Meta opened her eyes, looking at him. “Ludendorff was the hero last voyage, as he helped slay the great enemy.”