The Lost Intelligence (Lost Starship Series Book 12)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “And if I don’t rescue my grandmother?”

  “I already told you. You follow her kidnappers and hopefully find Lisa Meyers on the other end. Capturing Meyers is critical.”

  “And if this is a hit against O’Hara instead of a kidnapping attempt?”

  “You know the answer to that. O’Hara dies.”

  “You agreed to this?”

  “Now see here. I’m on your side. Chom and the others are after you. If the director ran the whole operation…you and I have to work together. We’re on the same side, after all.”

  “Who’s on O’Hara’s side?” Maddox asked softly.

  Stokes scowled, shaking his head. “There’s no doubt that she’s caught in a vicious vortex, one partly of your making.”

  “Because of my DNA?”

  Stokes gave him another thumb up. “Because you’re an arrogant son of a bitch and rub people’s faces in your exploits. It’s too bad your grandmother might end up paying the bill for that.”

  “I understand,” Maddox said. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, a further complication, I’m afraid. During our debate with Fletcher, Chom convinced him that you need a political observer. That means an HM observer. In this instance, a certain Ervil Larick will be breathing down your neck aboard Victory. Make once mistake or indiscretion and Larick will report to Chom. That could mean your dismissal.”

  “And you’re against that?”

  “If you mean do I like you personally, the answer is no. But have you saved the day before? Unquestionably, that is so. I also think you’re a key asset to Star Watch. The first Visionary got it right by naming you di-far and all that implies. One last thing. I hesitate to say it, but there is something odd about your—about O’Hara being in the East Antarctica rehab center. It was a special facility before.”

  “Special how?”

  “A brainwashing center, you could say.”

  “And now?” Maddox asked, his voice hardening.

  “There’s no evidence of that going on now, but I’ve wondered why O’Hara was sent there.”

  Stokes wrote: This is very true. I rescued Cook from a Rehab Center in Montana. Nostradamus was brainwashing him there. It’s up to you to save your grandmother.

  “You spoke to her at the Rehab Center?” Maddox asked.

  “Never,” Stokes said. “I spoke to her via screen once. I also lost an agent attempting to infiltrate the place.”

  “So, what’s really going on?” Maddox asked.

  Stokes stared at him. “That, old son, is the question.”

  Maddox sat back, angry at what the others were doing to his grandmother. But he was also impressed with Stokes, who had grown as an Intelligence operative and leader. The fact that he was still his own man with Nostradamus loose on Earth spoke volumes for him.

  The captain stood. So did Stokes. The two men shook hands.

  “Good luck,” Stokes mouthed.

  Maddox nodded.

  “You’d better get back to Victory to greet your political commissar,” Stokes said. “Word is Ervil Larick is a tough one.”

  Maddox saluted before heading for the exit.

  -7-

  During the fake and real briefing in Stokes’ office, Becker stirred on the floor in the other room. An alien presence passed over him, analyzing, checking and finally reviving him.

  Becker groaned as his head throbbed. He rose to his hands and knees, vomiting on the floor. Wiping his mouth, he sat up and balanced his head, taking the pressure off his braced neck muscles.

  What happened to you? Nostradamus demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Becker said aloud. He looked around. “Where are you?”

  Do not query me, Becker. Someone stunned you with an electrical discharge.

  “What?” he said. “That’s impossible. I would have perceived the person sneaking up on me.”

  Nevertheless, it happened. Logically, Galyan must have done it. He’s an AI. Therefore, you could not have detected his presence.

  “Did Maddox order the strike?”

  That is obvious. That means Maddox is much more dangerous than we realized. Perhaps it would be best if I eliminated him now.

  “I would agree, Master. But if he’s that good, wouldn’t he give us a better chance of finding out the whereabouts of Lisa Meyers?”

  I’m impressed, Becker. That’s well reasoned. Besides, I’m more than a match for a mere humanoid. What have you discovered from the meeting?

  “I’m been unconscious. I couldn’t learn anything.”

  Test them. Use your abilities on them.

  Becker concentrated, but his brain throbbed too painfully for him to decipher their thoughts.

  You’re hurt. Return to the Moon at once.

  “I was stunned. I’ll heal soon.”

  You desire to remain on Earth?

  “I have a job to do, Master. I can still achieve it.”

  I understand. Maddox has wounded your pride. I’ll give you another chance. You must remain alert. You have great abilities, but you’re not invincible. I will be soon. I need a few more days is all. Is everything else set?

  “Yes,” Becker said. Larick knew what to do. He’d put the command inside the man’s mind. He would start moving other pieces around—once his head quit hurting.

  Go then, Nostradamus said. This long-range commination is taxing on me. Perhaps you can pull some of the meeting’s subject matter from the captain’s brain.

  With that, the alien presence departed.

  Becker walked carefully to a chair, sitting. He tightened the neck brace, felt his head, a bruise on the forehead—rage bubbled into existence, making his head throb.

  Concentrate, Becker told himself. Relax. You must rid yourself of all emotions.

  The throbbing soon dwindled. His raw brainpower was his great tool. He’d paid a bitter price to acquire it. If something hurt his brain… Could the attack have been a deliberate attempt to maim his great brain?

  He sat very still. He would not rage. He would use his anger to force himself into a calm, logical state. He would get even in time. Right now, he had to regain Nostradamus’s good will. The universe was his prize. All he had to do was succeed here.

  Listening to the snoring man on the floor, Becker allowed himself to smile. He heaved up to his feet, heading for the door. Nostradamus was right. It was time to directly peer into the captain’s brain.

  Becker stopped and stared at the adjoining wall, sensing Maddox getting up. It was time. He headed for the door, balancing his head. It was easier with the tighter brace. He should have done that before. He could strengthen his neck muscles later. This was too critical a time to worry about something so paltry. His mind was the great weapon. Everything else was secondary.

  Becker opened the outer office door just as Maddox said goodbye to Stokes’ secretary. The captain turned left, going the other way.

  Becker waited a second. Then he exited and went left, too. Maddox had a quick stride. Becker tried to match it, and soon he was half running, panting.

  Baring his teeth, Becker reached out with his mental domination. His brain was getting better already. He forced the guards to ignore him—Becker reached the captain’s mind and began infiltrating. His domination slid smoothly—Becker yelped painfully, staggering, his left shoulder crashing against a wall. The guards didn’t notice, and Maddox had just turned the corner.

  Becker panted. What had just happened? He’d reached the man’s mind, and a force, a dreadful force, had—

  Erill.

  The word and then the image of a terrible alien spiritual entity filled Becker’s mind. He shrank from it. Even so, information flooded into his consciousness. The slain Erill had lived in the City of Pyramids. It and they had been the product of the Ur-Builders, just as the Liss had been. The Liss—

  Becker’s eyes widened. He wanted to know more about the Liss. He sensed a terrible secret, one that Maddox knew. One that Becker had almost snatched from the captain. But th
e energy of the Erill…

  Becker rose, turning the other way. He had to think about this. He had to remain—

  “Don’t even think it,” Becker whispered.

  He had to rest and regain his full mental power. Until then, he would let the machinery already in place do its job. He had a little time left. Would it be enough?

  Becker had started sweating, and feeling nauseated again. He needed to get better, and fast. Larick would be watching Maddox on Victory. Becker had put a command into Larick’s mind. He wondered now if he’d set the command in too hard. He was still learning how to apply his greater mental domination.

  Becker shrugged a moment later. He’d just put that man in the office to sleep. He didn’t need to worry about Larick, figuring the huge wrestler would have everything under control.

  -8-

  Maddox left Stokes’ office and building, soon leaving the Star Watch Headquarters Compound. He walked briskly, heading for the city of Geneva.

  Eventually, he saw an airborne spy-stick trailing him, giving him a sense of déjà vu. Just like two years ago, he used routine procedures to shake it. Fifteen minutes later, in a park under some trees, he said, “Galyan.”

  Seconds later, a ghostly holoimage appeared behind him. It was Galyan, using his long-range holo-imaging from orbital Victory.

  “You called, sir?” the deified AI asked.

  “I saw you in Chom’s office,” Maddox said. “You disobeyed a direct order.”

  “I apologize, sir. I found data about your grandmother.”

  “She’s in Antarctica.”

  “That is correct, sir. Did the brigadier tell you that? Wait. I found Captain Becker.”

  “Here on Earth?”

  “On the other side of Stokes’ office wall,” Galyan said.

  The holoimage had surprised him, although the captain maintained his outer calm. “And?” he said.

  Galyan gave him a rundown about what had happened, including sensing the terrible alien presence.

  “Go back,” Maddox said. “See if Becker is still there.”

  Galyan disappeared and reappeared thirty-seven seconds later. “Becker is gone, sir. So is the sense of the alien presence.”

  Maddox nodded. Stokes had been wiser than he knew taking all those precautions. They were in the thick of it. “Has Victory received any orders while I’ve been away?”

  “Indeed, sir. We are about to receive new crew members.”

  “Is one of them named Ervil Larick?”

  “Why, yes, sir. How did you know?”

  “Never mind that. When are they arriving?”

  “Soon.”

  “By shuttle?”

  “From the Alexander,” Galyan said. “That was one of the three battleships that escorted us into orbit.”

  Maddox thought hard. He needed more data, more information about Larick. From what he’d seen with Stokes, he doubted Andros would be able to use normal eavesdropping equipment. Everyone was playing double and triple games, protecting themselves as they did it.

  “Listen, Galyan. Here’s your next assignment.” Maddox proceeded to tell him.

  Afterward, Galyan said, “I should point out, sir, that what you are suggesting is against Star Watch regulations.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Maddox said. “Do you refuse the assignment?”

  “No, sir. I simply wanted you to know.”

  “Just make sure you’re not caught. That’s the key.”

  “Winning is everything, right, sir?”

  “Something like that. Now, before you go, here’s how we’re going to operate with informers on the ship.” Maddox explained his idea, and he gave Galyan a broad outline of the greater plan.

  “Yes, yes,” Galyan said. “Interesting and devious, sir. I applaud your cunning.”

  “There’s more. So, listen, as we don’t have much time.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Maddox finished his explanation, ending with, “Now get going. I believe we’ve just run out of time.”

  Maddox didn’t hear it, but Galyan vanished. The captain began to jog and then run for the spaceport. He needed to get back to Victory. He had a lot of work to do if they were going to win this one.

  -9-

  A shuttle departed the Alexander, the newly upgraded Conqueror-class battleship.

  The lieutenant commissar from Political Intelligence heading to Victory was Ervil Larick, the wrestler from one of the Neptune cloud cities. He’d gained weight since Jarnevon, weighing a tad over 350 pounds these days, with hard fat and a thick layer of muscle underneath. Despite the extra weight, there was still nothing soft about Larick, not even the fat on his face. The flesh nearly enfolded his hard, dark eyes. He was brutish, but he wasn’t anyone’s fool, and he would crush—with his thick bare hands, if necessary—anyone that got in the way of his duty.

  “Do you have clearance yet?” Larick asked the pilot.

  The pilot flinched. She was new to her task and to Larick. “Not yet, sir.”

  “Get it.”

  The slender hand tapping the comm board trembled.

  “This is Victory,” a woman replied.

  The pilot glanced at Larick in fear and possibly for further instructions.

  “Clearance,” he snapped.

  The pilot stammered asking for it, giving the shuttle’s designation and—

  “Oh, yes,” Valerie said. “The Office of the Lord High Admiral has informed us. The lieutenant is early, though, isn’t he?”

  “I’ll be there in—” Larick checked a chronometer. “Twenty-two minutes.”

  The shuttle pilot relayed that.

  “The captain won’t have returned by then,” Valerie said.

  Larick smiled. That would be perfect. He wanted to confront Maddox on the hangar bay deck. From here on out, the captain would have him as a shadow.

  The pilot was staring at him.

  “No problem,” Larick said.

  The pilot relayed that.

  “Oh…” Valerie said. “Well…I’m not sure—”

  Larick shouldered the woman aside as he leaned toward the comm. “Twenty-two minutes, Lieutenant. I expect you to pipe me aboard.”

  “Lieutenant Commissar?” Valerie asked.

  “That’s right. You received your orders. Now, give the confirmation so I can log it.”

  “Yes, sir. You have permission to board Victory.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Larick moved back into his seat and motioned to the pilot.

  “Shuttlecraft Demetrius out,” the pilot said, clicking off her board before Valerie could reply.

  “Twenty-one minutes now,” Larick told her. “I want to land there on the dot, do you hear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He grunted as he shoved up to his feet. Despite his huge size and the regular gravity in the shuttle, he moved nimbly enough. Larick moved through the hatch, down a short corridor and into a cabin with six elite military police.

  Three were playing cards, one viewed porn on his computer slate, one cleaned his gun and the last had been napping. All six looked up as he entered. All six sat straight and gave Larick their full attention.

  “We’re approaching Victory,” Larick said triumphantly. “One moment.” He dug a scrambler out of a uniform jacket pocket, clicking it on, pressing it against a bulkhead. He eyed the six afterward. “You know the significance of that.”

  Each of them nodded.

  His blubbery lips peeled back to reveal strong white teeth. “I’ve handpicked each of you. You’re killers, my killers. You know I know how to reward those that please me and destroy those that anger me. The—” Larick’s lips peeled back farther. “Our patron has a task for us. This one will have his full backing. We have to proceed by the numbers, though. Don’t jump the gun but wait for my signal. Remember this, though. Captain Maddox is a dangerous customer. When it’s time to act, act hard and fast.”

  Larick touched his forehead. It throbbed, and he frowned.

&
nbsp; “What’s the matter?”

  Larick took his hand away. “Nothing’s the matter. Just make sure of this.” Becker’s command echoed in his mind. It had come in too strong. It had been echoing for a time now.

  “What’s that, boss?”

  Larick snarled. “Shut up until I tell you. Make sure whoever pulls the trigger on Maddox kills him. Questions?”

  “Is he really a New Man?” asked one.

  “Like one,” Larick said, feeling better now that he’d given the order. “He’s supposed to be damn fast and willing to kill. We have official sanction, and our patron has given him warning against his usual methods. That should slow him down just enough. Probably, we won’t need that. At my signal, whoever is with me guns the bastard down. Got it?”

  “What if he doesn’t react to prodding?” The MP who had been napping asked the question.

  Larick’s gaze drilled into him.

  “That’s the setup, right?” the MP asked nervously. “We prod him until he breaks?”

  “Did you hear me say that?” Larick asked.

  The MP shook his head.

  “Don’t worry,” Larick said. “Maddox will…call it react, if you want to. When he does—when I signal—” Larick used a sausage-sized forefinger and thumb to mimic shooting.

  Several of the elite MPs grinned at each other.

  “One of us will always be with him,” Larick added. “He’s never going to be alone, not even if he goes to his bedroom to screw his whore.”

  The porn-viewer grinned.

  “This is the big leagues, gentlemen. You’re my star players. The Devil help you if you screw up. But expect the jackpot once the job is done.” He scanned his handpicked MP assassins.

  “Any more questions?”

  There weren’t.

  Larick nodded, turning toward the hatch. He seldom missed a trick. But he did miss the tiniest of flashes like that of the faintest of ghosts disappearing.

  Maybe Larick missed the tiniest of flashes because Becker’s command was rebounding in his mind again. Kill Maddox. Kill him dead. Kill Maddox. Kill him.