The bullying went on apace, but the two began noticing that Maddox didn’t show fear the way every other kid did. They tried hitting him harder during the football games on the lawn under the dome, but Maddox had a way of slipping away from each hit, so even though they tackled him, the effect was far weaker than the vicious body slams they gave the other boys.
Then one day after Maddox had had enough, Omar was quarterback for the other team, and he threw a long bomb to Ivan sprinting along the sideline. Maddox had judged the toss just right, and sprinted faster, leaping higher to intercept the ball just before it could land in Ivan’s outstretched, waiting hands.
“You little creep,” Ivan shouted.
Maddox had caught the ball. Upon landing, he twisted just right so Ivan missed his tackle. Then, the skinny Maddox began running for the other goal line.
“Get him, Omar!” Ivan shouted, as he ran after Maddox.
Maddox turned his head and saw Ivan nearing. He saw the puffed-out cheeks and the hatred and shame in Ivan’s eyes. It felt glorious to get back at his tormenters. In fact, ten-year-old Maddox stuck out his tongue at Ivan. Then, young Maddox faced forward and poured it on, racing like a cheetah, leaving Ivan in the dust and easily dodging an infuriated Omar.
The rest of the kids cheered, some of them laughing at Omar and Ivan. The two bigger, older boys glanced at each other and nodded.
As Maddox walked back toward the others, having made his touchdown, he saw the look and knew what it meant. The glory of the moment meant he didn’t care as he raised the ball high and slammed it against the ground. What made it a hundred times worse—or better: the bouncing ball struck Omar in the face, making him flinch.
The other boys howled and hooted. Omar the Sheik, as the rest called him behind his back, grew red-faced with rage. He pointed at Maddox and sliced a finger across his throat.
After that, Arbush broke it up. It was time to shower and get ready for dinner. He held Omar and Ivan back, though, telling the other kids to shower and get to the cafeteria.
Maddox showered, listening to the other kids warning him to keep on the lookout from now on. He ate thoughtfully later. Omar and Ivan came late, and the two bullies ate by themselves, although their eyes always seemed to be on Maddox.
The next two days, Maddox kept alert, sensing that the sudden quietness and lack of hostility of the two meant they were biding their time, planning to really get him good when they could.
The moment came on the third day. Maddox had stayed in a restroom even though the tardy bell had rung. He’d had to stay for indelicate reasons—a gut ache, you could say, from eating too many cherries last night. He was washing his hands when the only door opened.
Omar and Ivan entered the restroom, and they each held a crank bat taken from the gym supplies. This restroom was farther away from the classrooms than the others.
“It sure does stink in here,” Omar told Ivan.
“You shit yourself, Maddox?” Ivan sneered. “I hope you did, because after today, you won’t be able to anymore. You’ll have to use a colostomy bag after we’re through with you.”
Maddox frowned as Ivan held up the handle of the bat, making an obscene motion. The young Maddox was rather innocent about many things, but he knew these two meant grim foulness today.
“You can run,” Ivan said. “But there’s nowhere to hide here, boy.”
The faucet was still running, and Maddox’s hands were still under the stream. He was thinking hard and fast. Omar and Ivan were both taller and heavier than he was. They were likely stronger, too. Each had a crank bat. They were furious with him, lusting to inflict pain. But this was something more, something darker. He had embarrassed them out on the football field, and they wanted him to pay big, far more than such an event should warrant.
It was then that Maddox understood something was seriously wrong with these two. Maybe their dads had beat them too much or done worse things. At least they had dads. He had no idea who his dad might be.
“You’re a freak, Maddox,” Omar said, “a genetic freak, I hear. Know what, though? You’re never going to reproduce like us two. I’m going pull down your pants and smash your balls to a pulp. There will be no more little freaks like you to intercept my passes.”
Maddox took his hands from under the water. Something told him these were serious threats. This was a life-or-death moment.
“He’s so scared, he’s going to piss himself,” Ivan said. “Maybe if you beg, Maddox, we won’t smash your balls and make you walk funny.”
The two laughed.
Maddox was scared. They were so much bigger than he was. Luckily, Arbush had taught all of them the basics of unarmed combat. It was something to pass the time with the youngsters, and they all paid attention at those times. Maddox had paid greater attention than most, and he knew this was the time to use what he’d learned.
“Guard the door, Ivan. I’m getting first crack at him, since I threw the pass.”
Ivan set himself at the door, holding the crank bat with both hands. Omar swung his crank bat against his palm, smiling evilly as he approached Maddox.
Maddox made his decision and tore a soap dispenser from the wall.
“Oh, you’re a tough one,” Omar laughed.
Maddox took the soap bag from the container and used his teeth to rip open the plastic. He squeezed as he threw the bag onto the floor in front of Omar. Liquid soap splattered out, but Omar stepped sideways, avoiding it.
Maddox was already charging, leaping as he watched Omar sidestep the soap so he wouldn’t slip on the tiles. Maddox tried a flying mule kick, and his feet struck Omar in the chest, catapulting the thirteen-year-old against a stall door.
Omar struck the stall hard, but he held onto his crank bat, grunting and falling onto the floor.
Ivan shouted a war cry, running across the floor. He wasn’t as smart as Omar, and he didn’t watch exactly where he placed his feet. Ivan slipped on the liquid soap, shouted, and released his weapon. He slid hard against a sink with a loud oomph sound.
Maddox moved ferret-fast, picking up the fallen crank bat. As Ivan fell onto the floor and started to get up, Maddox struck the crank bat as hard as he could against the back of Ivan’s head. The smack was loud, and it knocked Ivan’s forehead hard against the sink. He sank again, bonelessly and without a word.
“You freak,” Omar hissed. “You killed him.”
Young Maddox bared his teeth at the Sheik.
Omar screamed a war cry, charging.
Three times the crank bats smacked against each other. Then, Maddox ducked the fourth swing and jabbed with the end of his bat, striking Omar in the gut. The other boy doubled over. Maddox raised his bat high and struck Omar on the back of the head.
The Sheik thumped onto the floor, groaning. He tried to push himself back up.
That was a mistake.
Maddox had been waiting, and he swung the bat hard, breaking Omar’s nose and two front teeth.
The Sheik went berserk, but it didn’t help. Mercilessly, Maddox struck again and again, until Omar dropped unconscious to the bloody floor.
At that point, Arbush pushed open the restroom door. The tall old man examined the scene and then eyed Maddox standing there panting.
The ten-year-old Maddox clutched the bloody crank bat even harder. He tried to speak, with his mouth moving, but no words came out.
“You ambushed them, did you?” Arbush asked.
Maddox’s eyes became wide as he shook his head.
“Why did you bring two crank bats?”
“N-No,” ten-year-old Maddox stammered. “T-They…” And then he could no longer speak.
Arbush shook his head, and he crooked a finger at Maddox. Obediently, the ten-year-old went to the old Space Marine, wondering what punishment lay in store for him.
***
Young Maddox walked out of the restroom door and into the headmaster’s office. Arbush no longer held his shoulders. Maddox looked around, perplexed.
“Here, boy,” a withered old man said from behind a monstrously huge desk.
Maddox turned to Headmaster Trumble, an old, old man wearing an outdated suit jacket. He was bald-headed and wrinkle-faced. There were pictures of spaceships on the wall behind him.
“You put me in a fine mess, young man,” Trumble said in his querulous old man’s voice. “You put both those rascals into the hospital. One of them has brain damage, likely for life.”
“They…they ambushed me, sir.”
“I’m sure they did, but that’s not going to matter to their fathers. They’re powerful men, and they hate you even though they don’t know you. Do you understand that?”
Maddox shook his head.
Old Headmaster Trumble glared at him. “You can’t stay here, boy. That’s for sure. I can’t stand against the fathers or the power of their corporations. You may not understand that now…”
Maddox cocked his head. He had the feeling Trumble wasn’t just talking to him, but to someone else listening to this. It was then he noticed a sliding door to the side. It was slightly open, and he wondered who was listening to Trumble make his excuses.
“I’m just Headmaster Trumble, finishing out my service after giving Star Watch the best years of my life.”
Maddox stared at the old man.
“But I won’t let their fathers destroy you. I’m going to give you a fighting chance. You’ll have enemies for life, though, young man. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
“Not really,” young Maddox said.
“No, I wouldn’t think so. You have powerful enemies, but you have a friend or two in high places. She—” Old Trumble cleared his throat. “That is to say, whoever is helping you has a few gray cells between their ears. The boys’ fathers are powerful, but I don’t think they’re very clever. You, however… You have a touch of slyness in you, don’t you, young man?”
Maddox didn’t answer.
“Humph,” old Trumble said. “You’re leaving today. That’s so an assassin doesn’t kidnap you. No one would see you after that, and your special friend could not bear that. Off you go.”
Headmaster Trumble made a shooing motion with both hands.
Young Maddox slipped out of his chair to stand on the floor. His keen ears heard soft footfalls, and he saw something at the barest crack of the slightly open side door. He glanced that direction for just a moment, and peered into a watching eye of someone’s face pressed against the opening. He didn’t understand, and it was the barest meeting of gazes.
That had been long ago, as a ten-year-old boy. Now, in the white fog that swirled at the edges of the office, an older Captain Maddox stared at the frozen eye peering through the door crack.
Captain Maddox frowned as he stared at the eye. He knew that eye, knew the wrinkles around it. It was the Iron Lady standing there, listening that day. He knew as surely as if he’d been staring at her face.
“You looked out for me from the beginning,” Maddox whispered. “I want to know why?”
The Iron Lady didn’t answer.
Then, the fog billowed into the office, erasing the scene. Maddox found himself facing the black abyss in the distance. He heard Meta’s sweet voice calling him from the opposite direction.
With a firm decision, Maddox headed for the diffuse light, for life. He had lost much soul energy. There had to be a way to heal the wound and regain some of that spiritual power. If he was going to be himself in the real world, he had to find that soul energy source and bath in it. For he had a mission. He had to know what Brigadier Mary O’Hara really meant to him all these years.
Did it have anything to do with his mother?
“I’m going to find out,” Maddox whispered, as he shot upward toward the light.
-8-
Maddox opened his eyes to find Meta snuggling atop him. She wept softly, clinging to him and whispering sweetly. She must have felt him stir, for she pushed up, her hands on either side of his torso, and peered down into his face.
“Maddox,” she whispered.
He smiled at his love.
She slid off him and grabbed his face, planting one kiss after another onto it, “Oh, Maddox, my darling, you’re awake, you’re alive, you’re—”
“You’re heavier than you look,” he whispered.
The kisses stopped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“That I married a strong woman who is not only gorgeous, but brave, smart, strong and loyal beyond anything this universe has to offer.”
“Are you saying I’m getting fat?” she demanded.
“You squeezed the death out of me,” he whispered.
“You’d better get healed fast, because I’m going to whip you for that.”
He reached up, and despite his nearly depleted soul energy, he gripped Meta and pulled her closer, kissing her on the lips.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I refused to die because I couldn’t stand being parted from you.”
“Oh, Maddox,” she wept, kissing him.
“Enough of that,” he eventually said.
She backed away with a tear-stained smile making her even more beautiful. Then, she frowned with worry. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Maddox had raised himself and was now attempting to slide out of bed so he could put his feet on the floor.
“You’re sick, darling,” she said. “You have to get better.”
“Tired is more like it. Some good hard work will fix that.”
“I should call the doctor.”
“Belay that. I want to speak to Galyan.”
“Concerning what?”
“Meta, get Galyan.”
The holoimage appeared in the medical chamber. “You wanted me, sir?”
Meta fixed the holoimage with a keen eye. “How did you manage that?”
“I do not understand the question, Meta,” the little Adok holoimage said.
“The heck you don’t,” she said. “You’re a peeping tom.”
His eyelids fluttered, and Galyan shook his head emphatically afterward. “That is untrue.”
Meta couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“Galyan,” Maddox said in a painfully tired voice. “There are some events that only two married people should witness.”
Galyan hung his Adok head.
“Erase what you just heard before you appeared from your memory banks,” Maddox said.
Galyan looked up. “I cannot, sir, as I lack that ability.”
With a tired hand, Maddox waved that off. “Fine. We won’t worry about it now, Galyan. I’m dead tired and I believe I know why.”
“The soul energy theory, sir?” asked Galyan.
“That’s right. If you’ll search your memory files—”
“I apologize for interrupting you, sir,” Galyan said. “But Meta told me to scan my files with—I believe she meant to say, ‘With a fine-toothed comb.’ That is an idiom, I realize. And I rarely see either of you with a comb of any type. But I found the idiom and have been doing exactly that.”
“And?” asked Maddox.
“There is an Adok medical file that refers to ‘soul energy.’ It was quite complex and written in Adok. I am not sure I could translate it with proper justice.”
“No doubt that’s true,” Maddox said. “Just get to the point.”
“According to the file, soul energy is a spiritual phenomenon,” Galyan said. “The file suggested that an Adok is a three-tiered personage: body, mind and spirit. We must engage and keep healthy all three departments. You exercise your body, have used your mind religiously, but have neglected your spiritual source. In this case, the Builder light weapon you used upon the Ska badly injured your spiritual strength. You used up more soul energy again just recently.”
“Is there a cure?”
“I do not know that I would call it that. There is a place where you could absorb soul energy and perhaps your body would replenish that which you used in powering the Builder light weapon.”
&n
bsp; “Where is it?” Maddox asked.
“It is eighty-three light-years from here, sir.”
“I see. And what is this place? How does it work?”
“It is an ancient sculpture known to the lost Adoks. I have no idea if this sculpture still exists. An alien race before ours built the sculpture. According to the file I read, a person viewing the artwork may or may not understand the significance of its beauty. If they did, they might understand the clue that would open a path to place of soul energy healing.”
“Sounds mystical,” Maddox said.
“Is that the word?” asked Galyan. “I do not know why I could not translate the Adok meaning into English.”
“It sounds dubious,” Meta said. “Isn’t there another more…reasonable way to heal him?”
Galyan did not answer right away. “I thought you would be happy I found anything at all, Meta. This could restore the captain to his full vigor. Is that not what you want?”
“Of course it is, Galyan,” Meta said. “Please forgive me. I certainly appreciate what you found.”
“I freely and gladly forgive you, Meta. And thank you.”
She nodded.
“What’s been happening since I’ve been unconscious?” Maddox asked.
Galyan and Meta exchanged glances with each other.
“What did Ludendorff do this time?” the captain asked.
“Go ahead, Galyan. Tell him.”
“It is not my fault,” Galyan told Maddox.
“What isn’t?” Maddox said. “It’s time to start talking.”
-9-
Maddox was too tired to pace and think. He therefore allowed Meta to summon a wheelchair. He sat in it as she wheeled him to an observation deck. There, the captain studied the stars, trying to come up with a plan.
Ludendorff was up to his old professor games. Worse, he’d kidnapped Valerie and Keith. After three weeks and two days, there was still no sign or report from them. One of these days, he needed to wring the Methuselah Man’s neck. The problem was that Ludendorff would turn everything around by helping them in a way only he or Strand could achieve. Maddox had given Ludendorff a lot of leeway because of that. But if Ludendorff had harmed Valerie or Keith, Ludendorff was as good as dead.
The Lost Swarm Page 14