The Lost Planet (Lost Starship Series Book 6)

by Vaughn Heppner

  She looked up at him. He could see the worry in her eyes. She released him, walked around to the other side and clutched that arm.

  Maddox flexed his gun hand. He didn’t like anyone holding onto it, not even Meta in the middle of Starship Victory.

  “Are you worried about androids?” she asked quietly.

  He pointed his index finger at her and let his thumb drop as if it were a hammer, “shooting” her, to demonstrate that she’d hit the target.

  “I thought you told me Galyan has gone over the crew rosters and the various medical examinations three times already.”

  “Four times,” Maddox corrected.

  “Has he found anything amiss?” Meta asked.

  “You’d know if he had.”

  “Then why are you wound so tightly?” she asked. “You’ve quadruple-checked and everything is in order. Caution is good, paranoia not so much.”

  They walked together, turning a corner, passing several engineers on their way to the main engine compartment.

  Maddox wasn’t sure how to broach the topic with Meta. He mulled it over and finally cleared his throat.

  “Do you recall Shu 15 calling me di-far?”

  Meta glanced at him. The Rouen Colony beauty hadn’t altogether cared for Shu 15, a petite Spacer who had been with them last voyage. Meta’s introduction to Shu had been just after the Spacer had kissed Maddox on the lips.

  “As a di-far,” Maddox said, “I have begun to listen to my instincts more carefully. They tell me something is wrong.”

  “Don’t tell Riker about your increased confidence in your instincts.”

  Maddox grew tightlipped. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything about this to Meta. One of the truisms of command was to give people your decisions but never the reasons behind them. Others could accept decisions but often wanted to argue over the reasons.

  “Dearest,” Meta said, gripping his arm with considerable strength. “I fully agree with listening to the little cues in the backs of our minds. In my former line of work that often kept me alive. But becoming too reliant upon your feelings—”

  “Gut instincts,” Maddox corrected. “Those are different than mere feelings.”

  Meta raised an eyebrow. Instead of further conversation, she opened herself up. She let herself feel—

  She looked up sharply. “Captain, you’re wound tighter than I realized. You’re hopping with this suppressed…I’d almost call it rage.”

  Maddox halted, and he pried his arm free of Meta’s grasp. He flexed his hands and considered her words.

  Rage. She had said rage. Abruptly, he turned, heading almost at a run for a nearby rec room.

  Behind him, Meta trotted to keep up.

  Halfway there, Maddox broke into a sprint. No one aboard the starship could keep up with Maddox once he ran full tilt. He flashed past surprised crewmembers, moving with economical motion.

  In moments, he burst into a large padded area. Maddox pulled off his jacket and shirt, tossing them to the side. He yanked off his boots and socks. As Meta raced into the chamber, he went to a locker, took out tape and wrapped his fists. He slipped on sparring gloves and proceeded toward a heavy bag.

  He let the rage in him bubble to the surface. The bag swung at each thudding blow.

  Meta hurried around the bag, standing behind it, holding it for him.

  Maddox began to pound the heavy bag with a flurry of blows. Meta winced at several of them. Sweat began to glisten on his torso. He gave combination after combination. Then he began to kick the bag. That caused Meta to hang on more tightly, grunting a few times.

  The captain was a whirlwind of action, moving with astonishing speed. He hit with brutal strength. Meta was a hybrid. Maddox was even more so. Despite his lean physique, he had phenomenal strength.

  At last, even the captain’s famous endurance failed him. He staggered back from the heavy bag, with his shoulders slumped. He panted, and sweat was rolling down his stark muscles. His right arm quivered now and again.

  Gingerly, Meta let go of the bag. She looked at her man with concern.

  Maddox took a towel from the locker, wiping his face. His pants were a mess, sweat-stained, crumpled and torn in one spot.

  “Feeling better?” Meta asked.

  As he unwound the tape, Maddox studied her without really seeing her. For the first time in several days, his stomach no longer seethed with anticipation. He no longer felt amped-up and jittery. He concentrated, trying to pinpoint the moment those sensations had taken hold.

  It had been at Saras 7, a Star Watch depot. They had taken on a cargo of jumpfighter spare parts. He tried to recall when he’d made the decision to stop at the depot, and couldn’t. If that was true—

  Maddox snapped his fingers. “Galyan,” he called.

  A moment later, the Adok holoimage appeared before him as a small humanoid with ropy arms and deep-set eyes. Galyan had fine lines crisscrossing his face, the way he’d looked a few moments before his death six thousand years ago.

  “Yes, Captain?” Galyan said.

  “Why did we stop at Saras 7?” Maddox asked.

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “We needed spare parts for the jumpfighters.”

  “Who reported that?”

  “Checking…” Galyan said. “Checking… Captain, there was no formal request. A day before we passed through the Saras System, a notice appeared in the maintenance manifest.”

  “You cannot trace the person who logged the information?”

  “I do detect a trace—Captain, someone hacked into the computer-maintenance system.”

  “Doctor Rich was a hacker once,” Maddox suggested.

  “It was not Doctor Rich,” Galyan said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because Warrant Officer Davis is your culprit,” Galyan said. “I know that because I have just run—”

  “I don’t doubt your process,” Maddox said, interrupting. “I am unfamiliar with Warrant Officer Davis. Who is he?”

  “She, sir,” Galyan said.

  “Where is she?”

  “Checking…” The holoimage glanced at Maddox in surprise.

  The AI’s projection had become more emotional throughout the voyages as Galyan gained greater computing power and personality, becoming more like the original alien Adok, Driving Force Galyan. The original Galyan had been “deified,” his engrams imprinted on an advanced Builder AI system loaned to the Adoks thousands of years ago.

  “Captain, this is amazing,” Galyan said. “Warrant Officer Davis is dead. Her body arrived in the ship’s morgue several hours ago.”

  “What killed her?” Maddox asked.

  “It appears she had an aneurism.”

  The captain bared his teeth. “Tell the medical team to take great care with her corpse. I think they’ll find that Davis has a Builder device fused in her.”

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “Do you suspect that Warrant Officer Davis was a Spacer spy?”

  “Either that or a plant,” Maddox said.

  “What has caused you to come to this conclusion?” Galyan asked.

  “Shut down intra-ship communications and security systems,” Maddox ordered. “Do it now, Galyan, before more people have to die.”

  -10-

  Galyan eyelids fluttered wildly for five seconds. Afterward, the Adok holoimage said, “It is done, sir. The ship’s comm and video systems are down. Do you suspect that Spacers have infiltrated the starship?”

  “Galyan, confine yourself to this location,” Maddox said. “Do not do anything until I personally return and reinstate you.”

  “Sir?” Galyan asked. “Did I do something to upset you?”

  “You’re doing fine,” Maddox said. “This is merely a precaution. But you must do exactly as I say.”

  “Yes, Captain. I am shutting down until further notice.”

  Maddox waited until the holoimage froze. Then, he grabbed Meta by an upper arm and dragged her along.

  “What’s going on?�
� she said breathlessly.

  “I believe we’re being prepped for a Spacer assault,” Maddox said.

  Meta shook her head. “How can you possibly have arrived at that conclusion?”

  The captain gave her a shark’s grin. “It’s a convoluted process, to be sure. You gave me the starting point. Now, speed is critical. I have to catch the Spacer operator before he or she knows I’m coming for them.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Meta said.

  “Do you have a weapon?”

  “Not on me,” Meta said.

  “From this moment on, you will always carry a weapon, preferably two or more. Here, take this.”

  Gingerly, Meta accepted the monofilament blade. “You’re crazy for using one of these. One wrong slip—”

  “That’s the trick,” Maddox told her, as they hurried down the corridors. “Don’t make the slip.”

  “Can’t you tell me where we’re headed?”

  “Not yet,” Maddox said, as he drew his long-barreled gun. “Ready?”

  “Hey,” she said. “You’re not even wearing your shoes or shirt. Shouldn’t we go back for them?”

  Maddox took a deep breath, dragged a forearm across his forehead, and trotted faster down the corridor with Meta doggedly following him.

  Maddox believed he knew what had caused his earlier agitation. A hidden Spacer had used an inner Builder device against his mind.

  Shu 15 was still on Earth, a political prisoner working for Brigadier O’Hara. Shu had two Builder devices inside her. One device had powered the other. The critical device had allowed Shu to use transduction. She could see electromagnetic radiation and electromagnetic wavelengths and process the data as fast as a computer. Shu had also been able to manipulate electromagnetic wavelengths.

  Maddox believed a Spacer with similar transduction abilities had been agitating his mental processes. He didn’t believe the Spacer could actually control his mind, but maybe it had been weakened in some manner by the constant stimulation.

  That’s why he’d had Galyan shut down the ship’s video equipment. Through transduction, a person could use the video system and see the captain coming for them.

  Where was the Spacer hiding? Using transduction, Shu could short-circuit weapons. Maddox wondered if it was merely a matter of time before Spacers learned how to attack a biological nervous system or pinch blood vessels.

  The stowaway had clearly joined the starship at Saras 7. Would they take the risk of mingling with the crew?

  Maddox doubted it.

  “This way,” he said over his shoulder. He glanced back farther when Meta didn’t answer and saw that he’d left her far behind.

  Maddox’s bare feet pounded upon the decking as he sprinted once more. While he recuperated faster than ordinary, he’d still felt the effects of the strenuous exercise. He panted, and his skin was once again slick with sweat.

  Logically, the Spacer would be in the hangar bay with the spare parts.

  For the next ten minutes, Maddox pushed himself, receiving startled glances from various crew personnel. The conviction that he was right about this grew into grim certainty.

  Finally, he dashed into the great hangar bay, veering from the parked shuttlecraft and the four jumpfighters. Mechanics looked up. The captain even heard a distant hail from Keith Maker.

  With an increasing sense of urgency, he raced toward a supply depot. A crewman in a utility uniform was walking briskly away from the area. The man had pale skin and an indention on the back of his head that might have come from quickly removing a pair of goggles.

  “You!” Maddox shouted.

  The pale man did not turn around. He also did not increase his pace. If he was a spy, where did he think he was going?

  Maddox aimed his long-barreled gun at the man.

  That caused the pale utility worker to spin around in consternation.

  “Stop,” Maddox ordered.

  The man turned and ran.

  Maddox pulled the trigger, but the gun didn’t work. That clinched it for the captain. Without holstering the sidearm, Maddox forced himself into a last sprint. He quickly gained on the pale man.

  “Stop,” Maddox called.

  The man turned, snarling. He pulled something out of his utility uniform.

  Maddox aimed the long-barreled gun at him, firing once more. The weapon went click, click, click. Maddox did not waver, although he readied himself to throw the gun as he neared the man.

  “You’re trapped,” Maddox shouted.

  The pale man’s features were twisted with hatred. He had strange eyes, and it was clear he had a small but powerful hand weapon.

  “Stay away from me,” the man shouted.

  Maddox continued sprinting at the man. He would attempt to dodge when the other fired. Maybe the other would wound him, but Maddox was determined to capture the Spacer.

  “The Spacers will rise again!” the man shouted. Instead of aiming at Maddox, the man put the point of the weapon against the underside of his jaw.

  “No!” Maddox shouted.

  The Spacer pulled the trigger, sending a powerful beam up through his jaw and into his brain. He collapsed onto the decking.

  -11-

  Several hours later, Maddox called for a meeting in the briefing chamber. As he headed there, Galyan appeared before him.

  Maddox had restored the AI shortly after the Spacer’s suicide.

  “Captain,” Galyan said. “You’re wanted on the bridge. Lieutenant Noonan has spotted an anomaly. It could be Commander Thrax Ti Ix or a Spacer starship.”

  “Is the anomaly saucer-shaped?” Maddox asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tell her I’m on my way.”

  The intra-ship communications had malfunctioned. Maddox believed the Spacer had done that before his death or during the death process. In any case, they had to use communicators or have Galyan pop from one spot to the next to relaying messages.

  The holoimage paused before disappearing.

  “Is there a problem?” Maddox asked.

  “There is, sir,” Galyan said. “I have attempted to follow the trail of logic that led you to your conclusion regarding the Spacer spy.”

  “I’m sorry, Galyan. I can’t explain the process.”

  “Is that because you intuitively came to the conclusion?”

  “That’s one way to say it.”

  “How else could one describe the process?” the holoimage asked.

  “Humans have a conscious and an unconscious mind—”

  “I am aware of the duality of human reasoning,” Galyan said, interrupting. “Usually, however, once a human has followed his intuitive insight, he can reason out the logic of it. Why do you feel you have been unable to reason out your subconscious logic?”

  Maddox debated with himself as he headed for the bridge. “I shouldn’t have been so angry earlier. That was my first clue.”

  “Pardon me, sir, but it appears as if you have indeed reasoned out the logic. Yet you said you had not. I am curious as to which of those statements is true.”

  Maddox hesitated before saying, “The thought came to me as I hit the heavy bag that nothing should have made me so agitated. The duration of my unease also pointed to an outside source. We know that the Spacers have learned how to manipulate the electromagnetic spectrum. That seemed like the most rational explanation for my rage. So, I asked myself if the Spacers would want to agitate me? The answer was yes, particularly if they planned to show up in force.”

  “You have been waiting for them to appear?”

  “Since the Spacer’s suicide, I have,” Maddox admitted.

  The holoimage floated along as Maddox took a turn in the corridor.

  “I have it.” A moment later, Galyan glanced at the captain. “Are you not going to ask me what I have discovered?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Maddox said.

  “That could be considered as cruel, sir, as my psychological profiler gives it a ninety-six percent certainty
that you know I want you to ask me.”

  Maddox said nothing.

  “I am also quite certain, psychologically speaking, that you dislike my psychoanalytic analysis concerning your various behaviors.”

  “Then why do you do it?” Maddox asked.

  Galyan’s lined face might have held the hint of a smile.

  Maddox noticed. “I suppose you believe that the psychoanalysis is for my wellbeing.”

  “If you will allow me to be blunt,” Galyan said in a soft voice.

  Maddox didn’t want to, but he nodded.

  “Mentally, you are the strongest individual I know,” Galyan said, “and that would include the professor. However, you seem to believe that you are an island. Yet, during our repeated voyages, we have aided each other. We have stood together, stronger united than our individual parts would equal.” The AI paused before continuing. “While you are the mentally strongest among us, you cannot survive alone. No human is structured for that kind of existence. You lean heavily on Meta, although you might not realize the extent to which you need her.”

  Maddox shifted uncomfortably.

  “Here is the crux of the matter,” Galyan said. “I have spoken to you like this in order to give you the opportunity talk about these things. Whether you know it or not, sir, you need to speak to others about your inner concerns. If those concerns remain bottled up, they will build in pressure and begin to cause a list in your mental stability. Your speaking to me like this is a safety valve, allowing some of that pressure to escape.”

  Maddox considered the idea. He even glanced sidelong at the little holoimage. If he didn’t know better, he would think the AI cared about him as a friend. A new realization struck the captain.

  Could the alien AI be lonely? Maybe playing the psychoanalyst helped Galyan feel that he was an important member of the team, a friend, rather than just a technical aid.

  “Thank you, Galyan. I believe you’re right. I doubt anyone else would have seen this.”

  “Doctor Rich might have,” Galyan said. “Ludendorff—”

  “No,” Maddox said. “They’re too busy with other matters. This is your insight. I’m grateful to you, my friend.”

  Maddox did not know how it was possible, but the little holoimage seemed to beam and even preen with delight.