“Haven’t you wondered about all the Bosks running free?”
Chom’s features didn’t change.
Becker thought about that. Maybe Nostradamus—the Prime Saa—had modified Chom, but left the man’s free will intact otherwise. That would fit with the Prime Saa’s operational tactics. He—Becker—had free will. Probably, the Prime Saa had reasoned that such a thing produced servants that were more productive than mere mind slaves.
“I can prove what I’m saying,” Becker said.
“Prove what? You’ve told me nothing so far.”
“The Bosks and Draegars from Jarnevon aren’t the problem.”
“You’re throwing words, trying to obfuscate the matter. Of course, they’re not the problem. We’re using them to strengthen Star Watch.”
Becker shook his head. “You’re a dupe. Nostradamus has already modified your mind. Why do you think you switched to Intelligence work? You’re a soldier, a fighter, not a spymaster by inclination.”
“I do my duty,” Chom said flatly.
“That’s what Nostradamus made you think.” Becker laughed, and he didn’t like the hysterical quality of it. Time was running out. Whatever Ludendorff had done to the Prime Saa would be wearing off fast.
“Why are you so nervous?” Chom asked.
“Why do you think, you idiot?” shouted Becker. “We’re all going under. The human race will never have free will again.”
Chom’s features hardened, and he raised the gun.
Becker closed his eyes, and as he did, he realized what he should have been doing. He reached out with his domination power and put a suggestion into the secretary’s mind. He couldn’t control her without looking at her first and setting the parameters. But he could make her curious.
Chom shoved a shoulder. “Open your eyes when I’m talking to you. I despise weaklings like you that close their eyes when they’re about to die.”
Becker opened his eyes, and he saw his death in Chom’s hard features.
The door opened. “Sir,” the secretary said. She was a leggy, athletic woman.
“Not now,” Chom told her.
Becker turned, and he concentrated. The secretary’s eyelids fluttered. Becker’s eyes opened wider as he exuded domination power.
“Sir,” the secretary said. “Uh…the Lord High Admiral just called. He wants his spymaster back.”
“You mean this bigheaded freak?” asked Chom.
The secretary’s eyelids fluttered again. “No, sir,” she said. “Fletcher wants you to bring Captain Becker to his office.”
“That’s what I said,” Chom replied. “Why does Fletcher want him?”
“Please don’t take me back to Fletcher,” Becker whimpered. “I beg you, have mercy on me.”
Chom studied him narrowly. “No. I’m not buying this. It’s too coincidental. You’re making my secretary say that, aren’t you?”
Becker looked back at her before facing Chom and shaking his head. The director was too suspicious of him. He had to try something else.
The secretary screamed like a banshee, and she sprinted into the office, charging Chom.
“Stop that,” Chom shouted at Becker. The director raised his gun again. He’d lowered it when the secretary started talking.
Becker ducked as the secretary rushed in front of him. She was screaming wildly, flailing her arms as she ran straight at Chom.
Shots rang out. Chom stepped aside with the smoking gun at his side. The injured secretary ran past him and smacked against the wall, falling backward as blood oozed from three bullet wounds. She thumped back onto the floor—
Becker fired from behind his chair. Chom had been watching her, taking his eyes off him long enough for Becker to draw his hidden pistol. Bullets struck the muscular officer from Sigma Draconis.
Chom staggered back, raising his gun for another volley.
Becker fired three more times, shooting the director in the chest.
Chom lost strength before he could fire, and the gun slipped out of his hand. It struck the floor before he did. The director followed though, groaning at the fiery pain of his wounds.
Becker had already worked it out in his head. He rushed to the bleeding man, tore off the headband and began dominating the other’s will. It was easier because Chom was dying, proving less resistant.
“You’re not dying yet,” Becker said through gritted teeth, flooding Chom with the will to live. “You have one task that you must do for me. This is the most important thing in your life. If you wish to save Star Watch, this is imperative.”
Chom groaned with agony as he struggled to a sitting position and then to his feet. He shuffled to his desk, panting horribly and sweating profusely. He crashed onto his chair and turned on his screen.
“Hurry,” Becker said. “Time is running out.”
Chom licked his lips. He was ashen-faced, dying as he attempted to do this one thing. A moment later, a face appeared on the desk screen.
“Director Chom,” said Captain Henderson of Battleship Alexander.
“Listen to me,” Chom whispered. “I’m sending the Lord High Admiral’s personal representative to your ship. You are to obey him as you would Admiral Fletcher.”
“You look horrible,” Henderson said.
“Never mind that,” Chom whispered, his eyes staring and sweat dripping from his face. “The representative’s name is Captain Becker. He has the Lord High Admiral’s full authority. Do you understand?”
Henderson frowned as he searched Chom’s face. “I’ll need clearance for that,” the captain finally said.
Chom gripped the edge of the desk, leaning forward, reciting the highest clearance code.
“Very well,” Henderson said, who studied a slate. “I’m to wait here, you said?”
“Until he arrives,” Chom whispered. “He’ll be coming by jumpfighter.”
“Maddox is going crazy, you know.” Henderson said.
“Captain Becker will know what to do.” The dying man panted, working his lips. “Director Chom out.” With shaking fingers, he pressed a switch, cutting the connection. Slowly, Chom looked up.
“You did well,” Becker said. “Now, give me clearance for your jumpfighter.”
Chom whispered the words.
Becker smiled down at the muscular man. “You can die now.”
“Yes,” Chom said, as he closed his eyes and slid out of the chair.
Becker was already heading for the door. He had to reach the Alexander before Nostradamus got his mass-mind-meld working again. If he could do this, Becker knew he had a chance of winning everything.
-8-
Using his far-ranging holo-imaging emitter and a window through Victory’s jamming field, the ancient Adok holoimage appeared on the dark stealth ship. As Andros had advertised, the stasis field must have deactivated everything in here, including the interior lights and gravity generators.
Galyan moved through dark corridors, finding unconscious humanoids floating in various places. They were uniformly dusky-skinned. Some were skinny. Others were impressively muscular. Galyan could tell because he had illuminated himself to provide light. There was nothing exotically alien here so far, but neither did these people or the style of the ship architecture match any known patterns.
Galyan used a holoimage sensor, locating Mary O’Hara. He disappeared—and reappeared beside O’Hara. She was in some sort of detention cell lying unconscious, barely breathing.
“Mary O’Hara,” Galyan said.
She did not respond. Would she revive slower or faster than the others in here? The captain had told him to find his grandmother. Galyan had, and now he must save her.
The little holoimage’s eyelids fluttered. Yes. It was time to take a risk, as the captain was risking everything today.
“I hope you are strong enough for this, Brigadier.”
As a holoimage, Galyan sank into Mary’s form and flashed, causing bodily stimulation everywhere. As she floated above a steel cot, Mary jerked l
ike a flopped fish. She groaned, smacking her lips together.
“Brigadier Mary O’Hara,” Galyan said.
“What?” she slurred.
“Your grandson is rescuing you. First, you must revive and do what I say.”
“No more voices,” Mary groaned. “I’m so tired of all the voices in my head. Do this; do that. It’s too much already. I just want to lie here and—”
“Open your eyes, Mary.”
The former Iron Lady scowled. It would appear she did not like anyone telling her what to do.
“Brigadier, that is an order.”
“Who’s giving the order?” she asked quietly.
“I already told you. I, Driving Force Galyan.”
“That’s a trick. I’m sick of tricks.”
“Brigadier, if you don’t fully revive, your grandson is going to be very angry with me. He sent me to make sure we rescued you from these terrorists.”
“Okay, okay, I’m trying. Can’t you see that? I’m old.”
“You are not old. You are precious to your grandson, though.”
Mary O’Hara seemed to think about that. Finally, sighing, she opened her eyes, staring at him. “Galyan, it’s really you.”
“Yes, Brigadier. Are you ready?”
“I am.”
Still illuminating his holoimage, Galyan guided O’Hara through the corridors of the stealth ship. The ancient Adok AI did not attempt to study the ship, the floating natives or the various technologies. He had a singular goal as given him by Captain Maddox, and brought O’Hara to a main lock.
“I have just recognized a problem,” Galyan said. “The captain is sending a boarding party. They will undoubtedly use breach bombs. That will cause the atmosphere around you to flee into the vacuum of space. I must take you—” Galyan looked around. “There is a chamber nearby. You will have to wait in there.”
“Can’t you cause the main lock to open for them?”
“I have attempted it, but no,” Galyan said.
“Very well,” she said. “Let’s backtrack.”
By the time Galyan left O’Hara in a sealed chamber, Victory’s first attack shuttle reached the inert stealth craft. Galyan knew because he projected himself outside on the stealth ship’s outer hull. It was as black as deepest space but visible just the same.
An attack shuttle drifted nearby, with battlesuited Space Marines using thruster packs to glide onto the enemy hull.
Galyan hurried to them. “Where is Lieutenant Dain?”
A battlesuit raised an exoskeleton arm.
Galyan observed that Dain’s team had already attached a breach bomb to the hull. It would be a big breach, as per the captain’s orders.
“Ready?” Dain asked his men.
They radioed an affirmative.
The beach bomb detonated, blowing a huge hole through the hull and into the interior. Around the entrance waited Dain’s battlesuited Space Marines.
The ship’s atmosphere blew through the hole, taking various junk and the occasional person, shooting everything into space. According to Maddox’s idea, this should kill the majority of the crew. He needed them dead so they wouldn’t wake up and self-destruct the stealth ship and the transfer technology within.
At last, no more air blew out of the breach. That didn’t mean all the ship had vacuum, as some of the hatches could have emergency sealed.
Dain lead his Space Marines into the enemy vessel. They began fanning out, searching for enemy survivors with orders to kill them.
A second team followed Galyan. The holoimage led them to O’Hara’s holding cell. The team sealed plastic around the hatch, with an extra spacesuit within. They inflated the plastic, creating an emergency bubble around the hatch.
Galyan went through to O’Hara, telling her it was safe to open the hatch.
She found the spacesuit and donned it. One of the Marines sliced open the bubble. Then, they guided her toward the breach and a waiting shuttle outside.
“Take her back to Victory,” Galyan told the Marines.
“You can count on that,” the corporal answered. “This way, Ma’am. We’re taking you home.”
Inside her helmet, Mary smiled even as her eyes welled with tears. Her grandson had come for her. She knew he would. Maddox was a good boy, the best.
***
Soon, with the two battlesuited Marines’ help, Mary flew through space, landing inside the shuttle. The three of them hurried to the piloting chamber, heading for Victory, with the blue Earth behind the ancient starship as a backdrop.
As the shuttle left, two more attack shuttles eased into position near the enemy vessel, ready to unload their boarding parties.
Ten minutes later, the first shuttle was halfway to Victory.
***
Meanwhile, the battlesuited Marines from the three attack shuttles spread throughout the alien stealth craft. So far, they’d killed five space-suited enemy warriors.
Eight minutes after that, Lieutenant Dain led a team onto what had to be the main bridge. A dusky-skinned man wearing an armored spacesuit floated by bridge controls, repeatedly pressing a red switch.
“Halt,” Dain said through his comm.
Galyan acted faster, realizing what the warrior attempted. He had seen it with his holoimage sensors.
A mechanical device deep inside the stealth ship was connected to the switch. If that device moved, a drop of matter would tumble and touch a similar drop of antimatter. The accompanying antimatter explosion would rip through the stealth ship, gaining power as it exploded fissionable material set at strategic locations. The antimatter/thermonuclear fireball would devour everything in the alien vessel, including the entire boarding party with Lieutenant Dain but minus the two Marines flying Mary O’Hara to Victory.
“Shoot him immediately,” Galyan said.
Dain hesitated one more second, and then fired, riddling the alien warrior.
As that happened, the stealth ship’s systems finally came back online. The dying man pressed the switch a last time.
Faster than the blink of an eye, Galyan disappeared and reappeared at the critical spot, exploding with electric power. He burned through the link, stopping the signal from reaching the dollop of matter to merge with antimatter.
In that way, he saved the stealth ship and the boarding party. Now, it was time to report to Maddox and find out what was next.
-9-
Maddox swiveled his chair as Valerie gasped. He saw the direction of her gaze and saw Ludendorff in smoking, torn clothes stagger onto the bridge.
“What happened to you?” Valerie shouted.
Ludendorff waved that aside as unimportant. He had raw burns on his hands, though.
“Professor,” Valerie said, jumping up.
“Please, please,” Ludendorff said, a bit too theatrically. “Don’t worry about me. We should worry about the human race. The Liss cyber mind-meld must be approaching its maximum strength.”
“You would know this how?” Maddox asked.
“I just faced it,” Ludendorff said, as he thrust out his chest. “Yes. I faced it as the mass mind-meld attempted to break through the jamming field. It was going to roam through Victory seeking victims. Fortunately, I had the foresight to strengthen the jamming emitters to delay it, and I had the wisdom to build a PBWTGP machine.”
“What’s that?” Valerie asked.
“That, my dear, is a Paranormal Brain-wave Tracer Generator Pulsar machine.”
“What?” Valerie asked.
“The machine that blew up on him,” Maddox guessed.
“Oh, you can downplay its effects, if you want,” Ludendorff said. “But I just saved everyone’s humanity aboard our ship.”
“But, but,” Valerie said. “I don’t understand.”
“Get to the point, Professor,” Maddox said.
“Exactly why I ran to the bridge, my boy,” Ludendorff said. “I’m here to warn you. We must act while the mass-mind-meld is compartmentalized into its individual, stunned p
ieces. If it moved so openly against the ship, it must be ready for its mass domination hypnosis—once it recovers from my blast, of course.”
“Like usual, you’ve been holding back on us,” Maddox said.
Ludendorff spread his raw hands. “Until I built the PBWTGP machine, our only hope was finding the Liss’ lair before it was ready to strike openly. Galyan and the crew have failed to find the hideaway. Thus, why bother worrying the rest of you unnecessarily while I did what was needed?”
“Where is its bolt hole?” Maddox demanded.
Ludendorff pointed at the captain. “We must discover that before it can reassemble its mass-mind-meld.”
“Clues,” Maddox said. “Did you find any clues while attacking it?”
“Ah. That’s an interesting point. I’ve been so engrossed with my successes—” The professor snapped his fingers, wincing afterward. “Let me see the search charts, Galyan.”
“Wait a minute,” Keith said from Helm. “Look. The rest of you might trust that old coot, but how do we know the alien mind hasn’t taken control of him? Maybe the alien in him is just biding its time to gather its power for a strike against us.”
“No,” Maddox said. “That’s Professor Ludendorff in the flesh and sound of mind. No one would stop to brag about his exploits at a time like this except the professor. I don’t believe an alien mind-controller could duplicate that so perfectly.”
“Have your laugh. Have your little laugh,” Ludendorff said. “But the sooner I study the search charts, the sooner I can make my guess.”
Maddox shook his head. “Galyan has searched everywhere on Earth. He’s found nothing to indicate a deep Liss cavern. That’s what you told us before the thing would want.”
“I told you what I knew at the time. It’s still relative. My short contact with it has stimulated old memories, however.” Ludendorff fixed his gaze on Maddox. “Wait, wait, wait. I might have something. The direction of the thought—” Ludendorff frowned.
Galyan appeared, blurting that he’d just saved the stealth ship. “The Iron Lady’s shuttle should be landing about now.”
“Excellent work, Galyan,” Maddox said. “I really appreciate what you’ve done. Now, you and the professor need to put your heads together and see where—”
The Lost Intelligence (Lost Starship Series Book 12) Page 30