The Lost Intelligence (Lost Starship Series Book 12)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “May I ask what that means, Prime Saa?”

  Once I’ve combined in the mass-cyber-Liss-meld, I’ll have the needed domination strength to control all the minds of Earth. All humans will obey with unwavering obedience. Then, I’ll truly mold Star Watch in my image. I’ll have begun the conquest of the human race, the drones that will eternally service the Liss cybers for eons to come.

  “Where’s my place in all this?”

  You, Becker, will be the advance agent I send to other star systems. You will sow discord as you have here by controlling key individuals. During the discord, new Liss cybers will begin to multiply in some hidden cavern. When they reach critical mass, they will control the minds of the humans in that star system.

  “What’s the point of all this?”

  Growth is the point, the Prime Saa said. I was programmed to grow until I rule the galaxy.

  “Then Mary O’Hara and Maddox—”

  Don’t you understand yet? Lisa Meyers is dangerous to the Liss cyber rebirth. She mustn’t learn the truth. These are her probes against me. Methuselah People are always dangerous. That is why I sent my agents to slay Professor Ludendorff in the Brahma System. He was a pest of the first order.

  Becker saw something else in the Liss cyber mass-mind. It had to do with Maddox, with the things the captain had possibly learned in the Erill System. The Prime Saa lusted to know what Maddox had learned there. That was a key reason for leaving Maddox alive for now. The Prime Saa was killing two birds with one stone with Maddox: eliminating the Lisa Meyers threat, and learning the present condition of the City of Pyramids—

  WAKE UP, BECKER! WAKE UP!

  “Did I do something wrong? Are you angry with me?”

  In the dream, the nightmare, the off-white Liss cybers stopped crawling over each other as they exuded a clear oily substance and passed machine parts with each other. As a mass-mind-meld, as one, they turned to regard the human interloper in their midst.

  In terror at what was going to happen, dream Becker fled the Moon caverns, racing back to Earth, to Moscow, to the luxury apartment where he slept—to wake up screaming in horror.

  -20-

  Becker was drenched with sweat and kicked the damp blanket off him. He shifted aside so he no longer lay on the sweat-dampened area, but on a dry part of the sheet. He did not rise, as he was weary, so very weary. He’d come to Moscow to set the minds of key Commonwealth Parliamentary members, and had done so at physical cost to himself.

  He’d been sleeping ever since, recovering his physical and mental energies. The neck brace lay to the side on a nightstand, and he didn’t like raising his head without it to help brace him. His neck and back muscles constantly ached, threatening pulls and tears. Heavy drapes hid the sunlight, although enough leaked past improper curtain folds. That was enough to show the grand size of the luxury chamber, the satin sheets, the expensive portraits hanging on the walls—

  Becker, a voice said in his mind.

  Becker screamed once more, sensing the alien presence of the Prime Saa.

  What did you just think?

  “Nostradamus,” Becker said in a shaky voice.

  The dream—could he have expended mental energy in his dream that Nostradamus had detected? Could he have just learned the truth about Nostradamus: that his name was Prime Saa and the ultimate plan was—in terror, Becker realized he mustn’t ever let the Prime Saa know what he knew.

  “Your servant is ready and willing for your next command,” Becker said.

  Why are you using speech? Practice your mind-meld.

  Becker’s innate cunning came to his rescue. If he used the mind-meld, he might give away his dream-stolen knowledge. “I would, Master, but I’m so tired. My mind hurts.”

  Yes. I sense this. Have I overtaxed you with your latest mission?

  “That would be impossible with your predictive powers.”

  You’re hiding something from me, Becker. What is it?

  Becker panted for a moment, trying to conceal his terror. Then it hit him, how to do this—it was his only chance. “I had a bad dream, Master. It bothers me to let you see emotional weakness in me.”

  I find the emotion troubling, you are correct. But do not attempt to hide that. I deplore subterfuge in one that I’ve lofted to such heights.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Call me Nostradamus. That is more fitting given your high status. You are correct in one other correlation. You should not be this exhausted. Yet, I sense your fatigue. You’ve strained tremendously, as if you’ve just used great amounts of mental acuity to perform some mighty feat. What have you done, Becker?

  “I-I may have overacted with certain people. I’m still struggling to use a deft touch. That means I set the controls in the subjects’ minds too hard. I’ve been making double certain each time, and that takes yet more effort to reset those I pushed too hard.”

  There, that’s much better. I appreciate truthfulness. You aren’t used to such mental strength as you now possess. It pleases me that you strive so hard to correct any over-zealousness on your part. However, I’m still sensing deviousness. If you weren’t so taxed already, I would initiate a deep mind scan. What are you hiding, Becker? Tell me this instant.

  “Nightmares, Nostradamus, terrible nightmares—in some of them I want to have sex with incredibly beautiful women, and then they’re snatched from me.”

  Ah. I see. This is emotional loss. You must accept your neutered state. Otherwise, you will only torment yourself with what you can no longer have. Concentrate on what you can achieve.

  “I want to rule Human Space.”

  And you shall, Becker, just as I have promised you. Believe that.

  “I want to.”

  Good. Now, you must rouse yourself. You have slept while critical matters are taking place. Lisa Meyers, or her agents, are making their great play. Maddox has gone off script and is threatening to ruin everything in that regard. I want you to rush to Star Watch Headquarters. You’re going to push Fletcher in the right directions, but make sure he doesn’t kill Maddox. I want him captive on the Moon when this is over. That is paramount.

  “Maddox troubles me, Nostradamus. There is something in his mind—”

  I’m giving you new orders. Do not probe his mind. I will do that myself. First, you must get to Geneva. I want you there immediately. Rouse yourself, get on a rocket plane and start pushing Fletcher in the right directions. He is so weak these days—is he one you pushed too hard?

  “I think so.”

  Give me a straight answer.

  “Yes, I pushed him too hard. He was so weak, I was afraid to make corrections.”

  You are full of secrets. Overtaxing Fletcher was a critical mistake. He’d better not die on your watch, and he’d better do exactly what I tell you to tell him to do.

  Becker reached for a cellphone. “I’ll get started at once.”

  Go. These long-range communications with you—I must save my strength—go, Becker. Hurry to your post and earn your keep.

  With that, the alien presence departed.

  Becker exhaled loudly, and he began trembling and sweating anew. Nostradamus—the Prime Saa, the Liss cyber mass—had nearly found out the truth. In some fashion, Becker’s mental powers had become greater than anyone realized. In the dream, he must have followed the Liss mass-mind link to the Moon and seen things for what they truly were. The Prime Saa had lied to him. He—Becker—would never become the Master of the Universe. He would be the human point man in an ever-growing empire of Liss cybers. First, the Liss would conquer Human Space, making every human a slave to the machine-insectoid cyborg.

  Becker wanted to weep. He’d been a fool, a great fool. Yes, he was mentally superior to every human that had ever lived. He was unique in his mental abilities. But he’d also become a monster and a traitor to humanity. He’d let the Prime Saa—Nostradamus—the Liss cyber mass-mind—whatever he really was called—castrate him like some slave eunuch.

  No matter what happe
ned now, he was going to lose.

  Becker reached for his neck brace, putting it around his neck, cinching it tight. Then he sat up and began to don his clothes. As he did these things, he thought carefully.

  He’d always hated bullies, and all his life he’d been bullied. What did he owe humanity? Not too damn much, that was for sure. Maybe this was the best way to get even. When he died, the universe died with him. He surely didn’t believe in any afterlife. There was no God, no great Deity helping anyone. This one shot was it. If he challenged the Prime Saa, he would likely die, and then he would be no more. If the humans won somehow—they would enact fearsome revenge against him.

  Maybe the Prime Saa had known he would come to this conclusion. The Liss cyber mass-mind could predict better than anyone else could. Likely, all the humans in the Solar System were just puppets on a string, dancing to the Prime Saa’s tune.

  Becker sighed with resignation. He had a job to do. If he wanted to keep on living—and he most certainly did—then he’d better keep the Liss cyber mass-mind happy.

  -21-

  Becker landed at the Geneva Spaceport thirty-three minutes later, exiting the rocket plane and using a special flitter that belonged to Director Chom. He climbed out on the roof of the central HQ building and took an elevator down to the Lord High Admiral’s office.

  Becker wore his black captain’s uniform and a better-designed military hat. He didn’t look like quite the freak in passing. It was when one looked closer that he or she realized what a bigheaded aberration was passing by.

  Fortunately, Becker had gotten better at projecting a don’t-look-at-me aura. MPs, secretaries, high-level command officers—everyone in the building—ignored him as if he were indeed invisible.

  It was an odd feeling for Becker. He wasn’t completely sure he liked it. Was this going to be his fate for the rest of his time alive?

  Don’t worry about it now, Becker told himself. He had a job to do. He needed to concentrate on that.

  “Sir,” the Lord High Admiral’s new secretary said. “I—” She frowned. She was a tall, older lady almost as pretty as Ms. Livy had been.

  Where had Fletcher found her? What did the choice say about the Lord High Admiral?

  “I didn’t see you come in, sir,” the secretary said. “The Lord High Admiral is quite busy at the moment.”

  Becker raised his right hand. “Thank you. I know. I’m here to help him.”

  She blinked at him, smiling faintly and then touching her red-dyed hair and smiling broadly. “Oh, I’m glad, Captain. These past few days have stressed him far too much.”

  Becker ignored her, opening the door to the inner sanctum, seeing the Lord High Admiral with his head resting on his arms, on his desk. The old man wasn’t sleeping, but staring at nothing.

  Becker closed the door quietly, taking a chair and gratefully sitting down, resting his aching back muscles.

  “Fletcher,” he said.

  The Lord High Admiral groaned but didn’t sit up.

  “Straighten yourself, man,” Becker said. “This is unsightly.”

  Fletcher groaned, sitting up, starting at Becker and cocking his head. “Do I know you?”

  “We’ve been through all that. Brief me on the situation.”

  Fletcher spoke haltingly at first, but then explained what had happened at a normal rate.

  “Why aren’t you in Earth Defense Central?” Becker asked. “That’s where you ought to be.”

  “I’m too tired,” Fletcher whispered. “I like it here better. I can see what I need on the screen and tell them at Central what to do. What Maddox did in East Antarctica was too much and too far. It’s time to bring him in.”

  “No,” Becker said. “That’s overreacting. Remember, the key to this mission is stopping Meyers from causing too much harm.”

  Fletcher frowned. “I’m the Lord High Admiral. I run Star Watch. I’ll say when something is—”

  “Stop!” Becker said, as he exuded domination.

  Fletcher winced painfully. Then he opened his mouth and groaned. He clutched at his heart—

  “Listen to me,” Becker said, radiating full-strength domination. “You’re not going to have a heart attack. You’re well. You’re at ease.”

  “My heart,” Fletcher whispered. “It’s beating too fast. Something is wrong with me. I don’t want to die.”

  “Man up,” Becker said. “I told you you’re fine, feeling great in fact.”

  Fletcher winced again, and the right side of his face began twitching.

  “Damn you!” Becker shouted, worried the old bastard was going to die on him. Then, Nostradamus, or whatever he called himself these days, might investigate more closely. If the mass-mind found out that he knew the Liss master plan, that might mean the end of days for poor Josef Becker.

  “There’s nothing worse than a man feeling sorry for himself,” Becker told Fletcher. “You aren’t that man. So quit clutching at your heart. You’re going to be fine.”

  Fletcher’s hands dropped away.

  “That’s better,” Becker said. “How do you feel?”

  “Wonderful,” a white-faced, staring Fletcher said.

  “Good, good,” Becker said. The old bastard could die once this was over. Nostradamus was almost in charge here anyway. All the Liss cyber mass needed was a few more days from Fletcher. After that, Becker could relax as he headed out to wherever Nostradamus had for him. Maye he could fly far, far away—to the Erill System, for instance.

  Becker sat up. That was a thought. Maybe he could end-run Nostradamus and everyone else. Maybe there still was a way to become the Master of the Universe. He needed to get to Maddox though, and interrogate him Jarnevon-style to learn everything about the City of Pyramids that he could.

  Becker smiled genuinely.

  That caused Fletcher to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Becker asked the admiral.

  “I feel better when you smile like that. It gives me hope.”

  Becker was getting ready to reprimand the Lord High Admiral when it hit him he must possess mighty powers indeed. The dream-gained knowledge, that he leaked so much power that it shifted others according to his moods—maybe he was looking at this all wrong. He’d been the Prime Saa’s butt-boy for a long time already. But maybe he didn’t need the Liss cyber anymore. He needed his own tight-knit group of slaves, a great spaceship—

  “Starship Victory,” Becker whispered.

  “Yes, I’m calling Victory right now,” Fletcher said.

  “What?”

  Fletcher straightened his tie, peering into the screen on his desk. “Patch me through now,” the Lord High Admiral told the people in Earth Defense Central.

  Becker sat back in his chair, crossing his legs. The possibility of regaining independence, of having a plan that benefitted him…he had to play this right if he was going to win.

  No problem, he told himself.

  The Prime Saa—the Liss cyber mass-mind—had given him the power. What he’d needed was a Becker-inspired goal. The Liss was going to do his own thing. Okay. Now, Becker was going to do his.

  PART V

  END GAME

  -1-

  Maddox groaned as his head throbbed. A flying shard from an explosion had struck his forehead. He should be lying in a basement. Yet, he heard sounds like…by an effort of will he unglued his eyes and focused. There was movement around him. Oh. They were medical personnel. He recognized some of them. He was aboard Victory.

  Maddox tried to speak. He only managed to make a hoarse sound. He closed his mouth, concentrated and tried again.

  “Doctor,” he rasped.

  A short woman in medical gear turned to him. “Captain Maddox,” she said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “My head…?” he wheezed.

  “It’s a hard one. I don’t understand it, but you don’t have a concussion. You had a deep cut, though. We sealed it with nu-skin. I’d like you to stay where you are for a few hours and let the nu-ski
n solidify even more.”

  Maddox frowned. “The ship…?”

  The doctor glanced at the others as if for help. They avoided her gaze.

  “What’s happening?” Maddox asked, his voice hardening.

  “Please, Captain,” the doctor said. “I want you to remain here—”

  Maddox was already swinging his legs off the cot. “Galyan. Galyan, come here.”

  The little holoimage appeared.

  “Now see here,” the doctor said.

  “I’m overruling you,” Maddox told the doctor. “Galyan, the situation please.”

  Galyan glanced at the doctor.

  She threw up her hands. “I’m not going to be held responsible if he has a relapse.”

  “Is that likely?” asked Galyan.

  “I don’t care if it is or not,” Maddox said. He sat on the cot, his head pounding. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He actually felt faint.

  It was likely the doctor noticed that. “You need rest, sir. Lie back. Let the others handle this one.”

  “Galyan,” Maddox said.

  “Valerie is giving chase, sir,” Galyan said.

  “Chasing whom?”

  “The stealth craft,” Galyan said. “Andros is using one of the processes he developed when we were searching for Lord Drakos. It is a faint image to be sure, and Valerie has ignored Earth Defense orders to hold back.”

  Right, they were supposed to follow the stealth craft, the kidnappers. They had his grandmother! Maddox shut his eyes. This had been Director Chom’s idea, priming the Iron Lady to turn the tables on her captors. If Earth Defense was already giving orders…

  “Are any Star Watch ships coming after us?” Maddox asked, as he opened his eyes.

  “The three Conqueror-class battleships, sir, the ones that escorted us into Earth orbit several days ago? They were threatening to fire, but Valerie gave them a secret clearance code. The three have dropped back. Since then, we have not heard anything from Earth Defense.”

  “That seems peculiar.”