SF Books by Vaughn Heppner

EXTINCTION WARS SERIES:

Assault Troopers

Planet Strike

Star Viking

Fortress Earth

Target: Earth

THE A.I. SERIES:

A.I. Destroyer

The A.I. Gene

A.I. Assault

A.I. Battle Station

A.I. Battle Fleet

A.I. Void Ship

A.I. Rescue

A.I. Armada

LOST STARSHIP SERIES:

The Lost Starship

The Lost Command

The Lost Destroyer

The Lost Colony

The Lost Patrol

The Lost Planet

The Lost Earth

The Lost Artifact

The Lost Star Gate

The Lost Supernova

The Lost Swarm

The Lost Intelligence

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The Lost Swarm

(Lost Starship Series 11)

by Vaughn Heppner

Illustration © Tom Edwards

TomEdwardsDesign.com

Copyright © 2019 by the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

PART I

ESCAPE

-1-

On a small south sea island in the Pacific Ocean was a pleasant community of prisoners, people the Commonwealth of Planets could not afford to let run free, mainly for political reasons, but also for military reasons in some cases. Chief among the captives was the former head of Star Watch Intelligence, Mary O’Hara.

She was an older woman, known for her gray hair, matronly demeanor and having a sure hand at Intelligence operations. Her physical attributes, at least, had changed during her confinement in this tropical paradise. She had become fitter and leaner.

After endless months of shuffleboard and bingo—and after her calls to the Lord High Admiral were no longer accepted—the woman people used to call the Iron Lady made a decision. She was going to escape, as she could no longer endure the lack of real mental stimulation.

She could have taken up hobbies to pass the time, but those weren’t stimulating enough. She had played spy games against New Men geniuses and had won at times. How could mere hobbies compare to that? She had been the brains behind Star Watch Intelligence and had risen against many threats and outthought many hidden opponents. She had lost at times, true enough, but that had merely spurred her to greater effort.

Mary also couldn’t believe that Captain Maddox hadn’t come to visit her once in all this time, and after all that she had done for the ungrateful lad. She was going to escape and give that man a piece of her mind. That was for damn sure.

Not that Mary O’Hara liked to use strong language. That was her frustration showing in a woman who never—well, almost never—lost her temper.

Mary had tanned, colored her hair back to its original youthful brunette and let it grow past her shoulders. That had taken some hair treatments and time, naturally. She had also exercised regularly in the island gym, walked on inland trails and kayaked along the shores.

She had taken so-called Methuselah Treatments throughout the years, so even though most would consider her an older woman, she was as fit as an athletic forty-five-year-old. During her time on the island, she’d lost around fifteen pounds, and her smooth muscles had become much harder than before her confinement.

As a Star Watch officer, she had long ago become proficient in unarmed combat and was an expert pistol marksman.

Today, Mary strolled along an island path, with beautiful tropical trees swaying beside her as colorful birds quarreled on the branches above. She was heading back to her cottage, part of a small community near the ocean shore.

The gardeners were Space Marines, and the head of security—who lived in the office hut—was really a Star Watch Intelligence officer. The various people didn’t advertise that, but Mary had known it at a glance each time.

Today was the first Tuesday of the month. That meant a flitter had landed at the middle island compound. It was a surveillance station prohibited to the prisoners—not on pain of death, but on relocation to a more formal prison with outer electric security fences, thick walls and bars.

Mary walked briskly, her face leaner than it had been in forty years. She wore hiking boots, loose-fitting cotton slacks, a colorful and slightly sweaty Hawaiian shirt and a wide-brimmed hat to block the tropical sun’s ultraviolet rays.

She wore a look of concentration, but no one would have considered that dangerous. Mary always had that look while hiking.

No one knew it, not even the prison psychologists, but Mary always had that look because she always plotted escape as she hiked. If she didn’t, she worked on methods to throw off the prison psychologists.

She stepped off the dirt path onto a blacktop “road” that led past many cottages. A cooling ocean breeze struck as she heard waves lap against the rocky shore.

A lean man in overalls clipping a fast-growing bush hardly glanced at her, but he did notice. Mary noticed him noticing. He was a Space Marine acting as a gardener, and Mary had no illusions about defeating him in unarmed combat.

Just the same, she was heading for the equipment area, passing from his view. It was ten after eleven in the morning, and the wooden gate to the area and tool shed would be open. The bigger, tougher Space Marine who worked that area always took his lunch break early. His predictable routine was bad form for a jailor.

Today, he was going to learn why.

Three minutes and fifteen seconds later, Mary walked past the seventh cottage of the compound and turned left instead of right as usual. She headed for an open gate. Her heart rate increased because she knew hidden surveillance cameras watched her. She didn’t know if a dedicated analytical computer would signal an alarm, as she had never turned left here.

Four seconds later, she passed through the gate and saw the beefy Space Marine tear into a huge Dagwood sandwich. He sat on a bench under an umbrella, leaning back against a wooden picnic table.

The man noticed her as he took another massive bite. He straightened as he chewed, hurrying so he could no doubt tell her this was a restricted area. She would have to leave immediately.

Mary smiled at him. “Don’t bother getting up. I just need to borrow a pair of clippers. They’re in there, aren’t they?” She pointed at the open door of the tool shed.

He scowled, still chewing fast, gulping to get down some of the huge bite so he could speak. Reluctantly, he set down what was left of his sandwich.

“Hey,” he finally said with food still in his mouth.

Mary ignored him, walking past the table.

He shot to his feet, gulped again, and said, “You can’t go in there.”

“It’s no bother,” she said in her sweetest motherly voice.

The beefy Space Marine hurried, one of his big hands reaching out, catching her upper arm, the fingers closing around her flesh.

“I told you—” he said.

Mary had been waiting for his move. The moment his fingers curled around her arm, she turned in toward him. She didn’t do it fast. She’d practiced the move in her cottage many times in order to get it right. She turned toward him just quickly enough to give her momentum, but not so fast that it alerted his trained combat senses.

“I told you—”

Mary’s up-thrusting knee smashed perfectly against his balls, crushing them against his body. She’d timed it just right, knowing this was her best way to incapacitate a much stronger Space Marine.

He groaned, released his hold and folded onto the ground. It was actually quite pathetic.

Mary turned away, feeling slightly guilty for what she had done, continuing until she was inside the tool shed. She stopped in the center, a gas-oil odor wafting from the landscaping equipment.

Oh, yes, of course. She located the hiding spot, moving to it. With her left foot, she pushed a carton closer, stepped onto it and reached up to the highest shelf, her questing hand landing on a stunner.

Just in time.

The pale Space Marine acting as a gardener shuffled into the tool shed. One hand cupped his bruised balls while his training and willpower forced his hurting body to respond.

Mary had little reason to believe she could outfight him even now. Thus, she aimed the stunner at him and pulled the trigger.

A low whine heralded a nearly invisible blot of power aimed at him. The stun setting was high enough that the blast knocked him down and out. He shouldn’t stir for at least another hour.

Mary took little pleasure in her victory. She had nothing against the Space Marines. They were just doing their jobs. But she needed the jeep and the right ID to reach the surveillance compound in the middle of the island.

Putting the stunner into one of the huge front pockets of her pants, Mary stepped over the unconscious Space Marine, heading for the office of the chief of security. Wasn’t he going to be surprised seeing her and then the stunner?

The tiniest quirk of a smile touched Mary’s lips. The Lord High Admiral must have handpicked the officer, believing the operative would be able to keep her a prisoner here forever.

Mr. Handpicked was going to be in for a rude surprise.

-2-

Mary never knew if Mr. Handpicked was surprised or not because she’d shot him in the neck while he’d been snoring in an easy chair in the living room. It hadn’t been a sporting shot, but then her escape attempt wasn’t a sporting event. No doubt, the surprise would come when he awoke.

One thing surprised her, though. The hut contained an analytical computer dedicated to discerning her actions, and it had been beeping—she could tell by the blinking red light. The sound had been turned off, however—maybe so alerts wouldn’t interrupt his precious naps.

Even though that worked to her advantage today, as a professional, that annoyed her. Did the Lord High Admiral think so poorly of her that he’d assigned a nincompoop as her head jailor?

She’d silently debated the question during the drive through the jungle to the surveillance compound. Gaining entrance had been as simple as sliding the stolen ID into a slot and driving through the opening steel gate.

If that hadn’t been enough, stealing aboard the landed flitter had been as easy as walking to the parked machine, stunning the two attendants servicing it, climbing aboard and taking off.

Mary stared down at the dwindling island. Shallow green water surrounded the tropical paradise, while deeper blue waters surrounded that. Soon, white clouds floated below her, and the small landmass dwindled into a dot.

This had to be the easiest escape ever.

Too easy.

Mary frowned. Did the ease of her escape indicate a problem?

She flicked on the flitter’s sensors. They showed nothing unusual. She chewed a corner of her lower lip. A few moments’ thought caused her to stare out of the canopy, first in one direction and then the other. She leaned against the bubble-shaped plastic next, looking down to the right and left. Then, she looked up into the heavens.

She didn’t spot anything suspicious, and that made her wary. Just what was going on anyway?

She checked the com—nothing—no one giving her a warning to land while she could.

Could her jailors really be so incompetent?

She doubted it.

Mary increased speed, heading for Australia about seventeen hundred kilometers away. There was a man she needed to meet at a Sydney park. She would know him when she saw him. If—

Her sensor board beeped. She tapped the panel. A large craft descended from orbital space toward her. A second later, Mary was startled as the comm board lit up. Someone was calling her.

Mary thought three seconds before putting the flitter’s nose down and increasing speed. An unbidden thought came: she was going to escape, or she was going to die trying.

She cocked her head at that. Was this really worth dying over?

Yes, a voice inside her head said.

Mary shook her head. That did not sound like her.

It is, the voice said. Do it. Get it over with. Life’s been a dreadful bore as a prisoner.

“No, it hasn’t,” Mary replied.

Do you want to be a prisoner for the rest of your life?

“If this doesn’t work, Captain Maddox will get me out.”

Oh? And how often has Captain Maddox visited you?

“He’s been busy,” Mary said.

“Who are you talking to,” a gruff man asked.

It took Mary a second to realize that wasn’t a question from the voice inside her head. No. The question came from the comm panel. But she could not remember turning it on.

“Is anyone with you?” the man asked.

“Lord High Admiral?” Mary asked.

“That’s right,” he said from the comm speaker.

Mary blinked several times. Finally, she tapped the comm. A tiny screen flickered on until she looked into the craggy face of Admiral Cook, the old, thickly white-haired admiral, the father figure for just about everyone in the Commonwealth of Planets.

“Are you in that ship up there?” Mary asked.

“That’s right,” Admiral Cook said.

“Did you know I was going to escape?”

Cook didn’t answer.

Mary grit her teeth, grabbed the controls turned the nose down steeper and increased speed.

“What are you doing?” Cook asked.

There was a pain in her skull as she said, “I’m sick of being a prisoner.”

“Come now, Brigadier, you’re not suggesting that you’re planning suicide if we come to take you.”

“What if I am?”

“Then your condition is even worse than I expected.”

Mary winced. That had been a low blow. By condition, he obviously meant her mind. That’s why she’d lost her position as head of Star Watch Intelligence. Enemies had stolen secrets from her brain and had also mind-controlled her for a while. It was possible she had latent controls in her head that would cause her to turn against Star Watch at just the wrong moment.

In fact, she’d been hearing a voice in her head. The pressure in her skull increased. She frowned severely, rubbing her forehead. It was conceivable the voice was someone speaking directly into her mind, attempting to use her. The pressure grew worse, but she had become the Iron Lady through implacable willpower.

“No,” Mary whispered. With a trembling hand, she reached out and decreased speed. Then she lifted the flitter’s nose so she didn’t dive at such a steep angle.

“That’s better,” Cook said.

For a moment, Mary was sure the skull pressure would cause her head to explode. Then, the pressure abruptly ceased, leaving her gasping.

“Is everything all right?” Cook asked.

Mary’s mouth was dry. The voice, the skull pressure and that she’d finally pushed herself into really escaping…

“Have you been waiting for me to escape?” she asked.

For several seconds there was nothing. Finally, Cook cleared his throat, saying, “I’ve been waiting three weeks already.”

“So…I didn’t incapacitate the Space Marine?”

“If you mean Sergeant Leskovich, medics hurried him to medical. He’s going to be okay, though.”

“What does that mean?”

“You didn’t castrate him, even though you…well, never mind. It was a cunning if low blow.”

“And your officer in the hut?” asked Mary.

“You caught him sleeping,” Cook said, his voice hardening. “By that, he’s earned himself a demotion. If nothing else, you helped me weed out an incompetent Intelligence officer.”

“Is that supposed to mollify me for this fiasco?”

“No, Brigadier. The profilers say you heartily disliked him. I’m merely giving you some sugar to make the nasty medicine go down.”

“I’m not going back to the island.”

The Lord High Admiral sighed. “I’ve tried to have you reinstated in Intelligence. There’s no getting around the stricture, though.”

“What does that mean?”

“The Prime Minister has overruled me.”

She stared at the bluff face in the tiny screen. “You’d really risk having me run Intelligence again?”

Cook squirmed in his seat the tiniest bit, which was all the answer she needed.

“You have something else in mind?” she asked.

“Quite.”

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “I’m not saying over the ether.”

She studied him, debating whether she should tell him about the skull pressure and the voice in her head that had suggested she end it all. It was a struggle, as she desperately wanted her freedom. But she couldn’t jeopardize Star Watch, not even if that meant she had to remain a prisoner for the rest of her life. Besides, it was clear now that someone, perhaps some enemy organization, was trying to use her.

“Sir,” she said.

Was there something in her voice that alerted him? In the tiny screen, he turned swiftly and made a motion. The action startled Mary, and she hesitated speaking

At that instant, a beam shot from the descending spaceship. It struck her flitter, filling the bubble canopy with a strange orange glow. Mary O’Hara’s eyelids fluttered and then she slumped, unconscious, as her flitter began to plummet toward the waiting ocean.

-3-

Mary awoke groggily on a med-cot. She saw tubes in her arms and felt a warm band around her head. Disorientation filled her. What had happened to her?

Slowly, she recalled her escape from the south sea island. She’d been in a flitter talking to the Lord High Admiral via comm and then a ray had beamed down from the ship, turning her world orange and—

She tried to raise her head, but that proved too exhausting. She must have fallen unconscious after the orange ray had struck. So, why hadn’t the flitter plunged into the ocean?

The spaceship coming down must have used a tractor beam. That must have caught the flitter and dragged it up here. Yes. She could feel the subtle vibration that meant she was in a spaceship with an antimatter engine supplying power.

She closed her eyes, thinking. Had that really been the Lord High Admiral she’d seen in the comm screen? Maybe someone had been impersonating him in order to fool her.

Could it have been an android imposter? Given the victorious space battle six months ago in the Solar System, she thought Star Watch had finished the androids for good. She wasn’t privy to insider information these days. But even she’d heard about androids tearing off their clothes and outer false skin to reveal the gleaming metal underneath. The androids had mined the heavy-metals chthonian planet in the Alpha Centauri System, building superior ship structures with them. Even so, Star Watch had smashed the invading android fleet, and that should have been the end of any android menace for years to come.

This isn’t an android operation, she told herself. The androids were finished in Human Space.

The voice in her head and the skull pressure…that indicated Bosks. Bosks meant New Men hardliners, which ultimately meant Lord Drakos. Because of Drakos and his Bosks, she’d lost her position as head of Intelligence, becoming a prisoner.

“No,” she told herself aloud. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself. She was going to act like a Star Watch Intelligence officer and figure this out.

Star Watch had smashed the Bosks’ operation some time ago. Hardliner New Men might have sent an agent to Earth, but it was unlikely even New Men would be arrogant enough to try to slip a ship into Earth’s atmosphere.

“How is she?” a gruff-voiced man asked.

Mary recognized the voice, bringing relief. It was the Lord High Admiral. Maybe he really was who he had claimed to be on the tiny screen.

Mary opened her eyes, seeing a tall doctor and the taller, if stoop-shouldered, Admiral Cook peering down at her. Cook wore his white admiral’s uniform. There were a few more seams in his rugged face, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes seemed deeper than she remembered.

“How do you feel?” Cook asked.

Mary ingested the question even as she realized the doctor hadn’t answered the admiral’s inquiry concerning her condition.

“Why am I strapped down like this?” she asked, indicating the steel bands holding down her arms and legs.

Cook glanced at the doctor as if he had the answer.

The doctor had a long lean face and troubled eyes. Mary didn’t like that.

“The straps are a precaution,” Cook finally told her.

“Do you think I’m going mad?” she asked.

“No,” the doctor said in a rather high-pitched voice. “You are certainly not insane. Tell me. Have you been hearing voices in your mind?”

“No,” Mary said.

The doctor gave Cook a significant glance, indicating the man thought she was lying.

“Just one voice,” Mary said.

“Did you recognize the voice?” Cook asked her.

Mary shook her head.

“When did you begin hearing it?”

“Only today,” she said, “while flying toward Australia. Oh. There is something else. I was going to meet a man in a Sydney park. I don’t know who, but I remember thinking I would know him when I saw him.”

“Did the voice tell you about the man?”

“No. I just knew…” Mary’s voice trailed off. It hit her then, the seriousness of her condition, and she had to battle off a wave of dejection. She was the Iron Lady who used to run Intelligence. She wasn’t going to wilt before the mind specialist and certainly not before the Lord High Admiral. It was time to pull it together and help them against the hidden enemy who had been using her.

“You told me earlier that you’ve been waiting three weeks for me to make a break,” she told Cook. “There has to be a reason for the particular timeframe. I would suspect—oh. You must have intercepted strange beams directed at the island.”

“More precisely,” Cook said, “directed at you on the island.”

Mary nodded even as a cold feeling came over her. She had almost become an enemy tool. Anger welled up. She latched onto that, but masked it from them, using it as a mental crutch to prop her up.

“Was that the first time you intercepted such rays?” she asked.

“It was,” Cook said.

“Did I begin acting differently?”

“On the contrary,” Cook said, “more routinely. You’ve done nothing out of the ordinary for the past three weeks except for the escape itself. If I were to guess, I would say you’ve been acting that way so your handlers would lower their guard, which they did.”

“You didn’t warn them about the rays?”

Cook shook his head. “We didn’t know if one of them was working with—with whoever sent the rays. How did the enemy know your precise location each time?”

“Who do you suspect beamed the rays?”

“The obvious people,” he said.

“Lord Drakos?”

“It doesn’t specifically have to be him,” Cook said, “but New Men hardliners certainly.”

“Hmm. The voice suggested I dive into the ocean instead of allowing you to recapture me.”

“Interesting,” the doctor said. “That would suggest that they would rather have you die than face recapture.”

Cook had been fingering his chin. “What don’t they want us finding in her mind?”

“I have no idea,” the doctor said. “Clearly, though, it must be important.”

Cook rubbed his jaw further, looked away and then directly down at her. “Where’s Captain Maddox?”

“What?” Mary asked, startled by the question.

“His whereabouts?” asked Cook. “Where is he?”

“How could I possibly know that? Why? Is Maddox missing?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Cook admitted, “although I wouldn’t worry about him just yet.”

Mary blinked several times, disturbed at the disjointedness of the questions versus the statement. It had been over six months already since the victory over the androids. What had the captain been doing since then? It sounded like something to stir Lord Drakos and his hardliners. Mary didn’t like that one bit. Maddox held too many grudges against Drakos for the captain to work as efficiently as he usually did. Maddox held too many grudges against New Men, and they were so damned smart and so much…better than ordinary humans, better even than Maddox.

“What did you order him to do this time?” Mary demanded. “If you’ve sent him on another of your harebrained—”

“Brigadier,” Cook said sternly. “That will be quite enough of that.”

Mary didn’t think so. Then, she caught the doctor’s look. He seemed a little too eager to hear what she was going to say. That helped her calm down and switch mental gears.

“Just how long am I going to be strapped down to this thing?” she asked.

The doctor let slip the slightest of disappointed looks, but he hid it as well as could be expected. Mary noticed Cook noticing the doctor’s disappointment. The old man was sharp. That was interesting.

“Doctor,” Cook said. “You heard her question. Answer it please.”

“Oh,” the doctor said. “Well…if someone keeps an eye on her, I think she’s well enough to leave the med-cot. There are no devices inside her, and we scanned thoroughly. Our ship has special shielding that can block even their strange mind rays—whoever they are. Besides, we’ve already seen that she can stave off suicidal suggestions.”

“Excellent,” Cook said. “Release her at once. I’ll escort her to the infirmary.”

“I have people who can do that,” the doctor said.

“I’m not in the habit of debating one of my orders,” Cook said.

“Oh. Yes, of course, sir,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry, sir.” The lean man turned and shouted orders.

With the doctor’s back to them, Mary gave Cook a questioning glance. He shook his head and then put a placid demeanor on his features as the doctor turned back to them.

Something was going on here, Mary decided. She had no idea what it could be. Hopefully, Admiral Cook would let her in on the secret so it wouldn’t drive her batty trying to figure it out.

-4-

Mary walked beside the Lord High Admiral, and it seemed like old times back at Star Watch Headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland. Her green hospital gown defeated the image, however, and the narrowness of the ship corridors and the constant vibration on the deckplates ruined the feeling as well.

“Admiral,” she began.

He held up one of his big hands, a signal to wait.

She closed her mouth as she walked beside him in her paper slippers. They moved through several corridors, passing the way to the infirmary.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Cook said.

“Uh…yes, I would like one.”

“I have an excellent bottle of brandy in my office.”

They took a lift to a different level and finally entered his office. It was more cramped than usual, which indicated a smaller spaceship. Of course, it had come down into a planetary atmosphere. A battleship couldn’t do that.

He indicated a chair. She almost collapsed into it, not realizing until then how tired she really was. He went around behind his desk, sat with a grunt and opened a bottom drawer. Mary expected to see him set a bottle of brandy on the desk. Instead, he put a scrambler there and switched it on so it buzzed softly.

“That should do the trick,” he said.

“Who would try using a snooper on you aboard your own ship, sir?”

“If the past is any indication of the future, a lot of people. Besides, I’ve wondered if enemy or double agents worked on the island. It would be no extraordinary feat if such an agent were aboard the ship. I also distrust the doctor.”

“Why keep him then?”

“Brigadier, I need some advice,” he said, avoiding her question.

“That’s why you waited three weeks for me to escape the island?”

The admiral squirmed in his chair, finally shaking his head. “Not altogether. The rays beamed at you greatly disturbed me. I suspected New Men hardliners, of course, which would logically indicate a stealth star cruiser somewhere near Earth. We have been unable to find one, though.” His lips drew back, exposing his teeth. “I would dearly like to know who sent the rays. Oh, we tried everything to find the sender. Everything failed. Does that mean New Men have infiltrated agents back on Earth? I hate thinking so, but it seems damned likely.”

Silently, Mary agreed. The New Men were good at spying, usually three to five steps ahead of regular people. “How is Stokes doing running Intelligence?”

“As well as can be expected. Stokes is a competent operator, but he is not the Iron Lady. I need you back in the saddle.”

“I’m hearing a voice in my head, though.”

Cook nodded. “The reason I can’t let you run the show. But…” He frowned down at his hands before regarding her again.

“What happened to Maddox?” she asked in a worried voice.

It seemed the admiral wouldn’t answer. “I haven’t heard from him for over two months. He’s in the Beyond, I believe. He has his long-range Builder comm device. He was supposed to have given two reports already, one each month.”

“Are you saying he’s dead?”

“Mary, don’t torment yourself. Both Maddox and Victory have been overdue longer than two months before. He’s following a lead, a trail to attempt to find Commander Thrax Ti Ix.”

“No,” she whispered. “I’d forgotten all about the bug leader.” She squeezed her eyelids closed before opening them wide. Old facts bubbled up. “Thrax is a hybrid Swarm creature,” she said in a rote voice. “He escaped from us at the end of the terrible Swarm Invasion. They sent eighty thousand warships.” Her brows furrowed as if she had trouble remembering more. “Thrax and his fellow hybrids fled the detonation of Alpha Centauri ‘A’ star.”

Cook nodded.

Several years ago, during the first Swarm Invasion, at the terrible crisis moment when it looked like the enemy fleet was finally going to overpower Star Watch and the allied New Men, Professor Ludendorff had subconsciously constructed a Builder device, the design long ago implanted in his mind. Maddox had used the device against an evil spiritual Ska entity. Powering the Builder device with his own life force, Maddox had badly wounded the Ska, which had fled into the hot star for healing. That had caused the star to explode, annihilating the vast majority of the remaining invading Swarm vessels. Thrax had led the only star-drive jump capable Swarm ships, fleeing the destruction with them.

Thrax Ti Ix the hybrid had been an odd sort of Swarm creature. Maddox had first met the bug years earlier on a Builder Dyson Sphere one thousand light-years from Earth. Thrax with other hybrids had escaped the destroyed sphere, going to the Swarm Imperium and teaching them about Laumer Points and hyper-spatial tubes.

After the destruction of Alpha Centauri “A” star, Thrax had taken his approximately one hundred and sixty warships to some unknown location. They had fled far into the Beyond, never seen since.

Cook folded his thick fingers on the desk, leaning toward her.

Here it comes, Mary silently told herself.

“Thrax’s one hundred and sixty warships represent a significant threat to us. Several years ago…” Cook shook his head. “Star Watch could have easily handled them back then. But the Commonwealth has taken massive losses from many sources. Consider: we faced the original New Men invasion, the Swarm invasion, the Grand Fleet’s attacking the Forbidden Planet and lately against the androids run amok. The personnel and ship losses have added up. We used to have two ancient Destroyers as backup, but the androids destroyed them. What I’m saying is that the Commonwealth badly needs peace. We need it so we can rebuild to our old strength. We can’t afford to fight a new war against a determined enemy.”

“Star Watch really can’t face one hundred and sixty Swarm ships?” Mary asked.

“That’s the kicker, a concentrated enemy fleet. Yes. If we gathered Star Watch into one place, we could overpower them. But we’re spread out to hold down the fort, as it were. There have been rebellions, outbreaks of piracy, worldwide unrest. This has happened all over the Commonwealth. Usually, showing the flag in the form of a Star Watch warship helps settle the situation. Sometimes, we have to send a flotilla. We’re stretched far too thin with far too few ships.” He drummed his fingers. “There’s something else. If Thrax appears, it will be at the behest of Lord Drakos. How many star cruisers will join the attack saucers?”

Cold fear welled up in Mary.

“Since the end of the Android War,” Cook said, “we’ve been breaking up some of the Drakos-funded rings scattered throughout the Commonwealth. That’s the good news. Drakos and his most dedicated people have vanished. That’s helped us hunt down many of his underground operations, as he’s not here to hinder us.”

“Because he’s out in the Beyond making deals with Commander Thrax.”

“Our best analysts give that a seventy-eight percent probability. Now, a hidden someone sends rays at your mind, causing you to escape. Do these hidden players want the data in your mind and fear us getting that data, or is there a different reason?” Cook shook his head. “There has to be a good reason for their wanting you at this time.”

“I have a thought.”

“I’m listening.”

“Maddox is out in the Beyond chasing down Thrax and Drakos?”

“I’m afraid so,” Cook said. “We need to know what’s happening out there. Regular Patrol ships would certainly fall prey to stealth star cruisers. That’s why it has to be Starship Victory with its veteran crew.”

“Maybe the hidden agents want me in order to try to persuade Maddox to give up his task.”

“Would the captain do that if you asked?”

“I don’t know,” Mary whispered.

“Why do you think he would?”

Mary said nothing.

“We’re in the dark about far too much,” Cook said. “Now, if we’re lucky, perhaps Thrax will kill Lord Drakos for us. Perhaps Maddox will engineer such an event—”

“That would be good,” Mary said softly, interrupting. She squared her shoulders. “Have you told the Emperor about all this?”

“He already knows, as it was his operative that told Maddox about Drakos’s goal. The operative gave Maddox the information in exchange for one of Drakos’s secret agents that Maddox was in the process of capturing.”

“What’s the Emperor going to do about Drakos?”

“I have no idea.”

“No?”

Cook frowned. “I can’t afford word of…of any of this leaking out.” He paused as if reconsidering his words, soon shaking his head. “If Drakos and Thrax strike together, and if they make inroads into the Commonwealth, destroying a Star Watch fleet in the process, it’s possible the rest of the Emperor’s New Men might decide it’s time to reinvade and win for good. Maybe the Emperor is doing nothing because conquering us so-called submen is his real goal.”

Mary grew pale. Another war with the New Men and with them having allies this time, with the Commonwealth at a grave disadvantage… The Drakos Affair could turn genocidal quickly.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “If you can’t afford any of this leaking out, why are you telling me? I’m a security risk.”

“True.” He stared across the desk at her. “Maybe I’m telling you so you’ll understand why I have to keep you in tight confinement.”

Mary’s right hand began to shake. She grabbed it, squeezing the hand so it wouldn’t give away her terror.

“I said maybe,” Cook told her. “Maybe I have another reason.”

She would not look up at him as long as she had to hold her traitorous hand.

“I have a plan,” Cook said. “It’s risky. I need someone cunning to help me with it. But I can’t let you run free. I can’t risk our hidden foe getting hold of you, either.”

“Where are we headed?” she whispered.

He remained silent.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“Not yet,” he said.

She let go of her hand. It didn’t shake. She looked up. “What do you want me to do?”

Cook leaned even farther toward her. “First, I need to make the enemy believe he’s succeeded with you.”

“Meaning…?”

“I have an old android Iron Lady I’ve been saving for a long time. Someone is going to ‘kill’ her so it’s seen by those with loose lips.”

Mary said nothing.

“That should cause the hidden agents to stop aiming beams at you, which ought to help you think more clearly.”

“I thought we had shielding here against that beam.”

“We do,” Cook said.

“But I’m going to be somewhere else.”

“Yes.”

“So…you hope a dead android Iron Lady convinces the hidden agent…?”

Cook nodded. “Yes. I hope that works.” His folded hands tightened. “Brigadier, Star Watch and the Commonwealth cannot afford a large set-piece space battle right now. It would be far better to win this one through cunning instead of brute force.”

“Because of the bigger threat behind Thrax and Drakos?”

“Thrax and Drakos—if they combine—are plenty of threat for us to face. But yes, there is something else out there.”

“You mean something else besides the Emperor?” she asked.

“In fact,” Cook said, “there are a couple of somethings that you don’t know about yet. That’s another reason why it would be better to win this one without heavy ship losses. No ship losses would be optimal.”

“Playing deviously isn’t your style, Admiral.”

“No, it isn’t. Which is why I need your help, but you’ve been compromised, making all of this much more difficult. Incidentally, I think that’s one of the reasons Maddox is so set on stopping Drakos. The hardliner chief is the key to you winning a clear mental bill of health. That’s also going to make it dangerous for Maddox, because he needs to capture Drakos rather than simply killing him. We need Drakos to talk, telling us exactly what he learned from you and how to stop more leaks from happening.”

Mary’s right hand flew to her mouth. She hadn’t considered that. Oh, she did hope Maddox wouldn’t get himself killed for her sake. That would simply be awful. How could she live with herself if that happened?

“Maddox,” she whispered so softly that not even she could hear the word. “Take care of yourself, my boy.”

“What was that?” Cook asked. “Did you say something?”

Mary looked up at him. “Tell me what I have to do. And please do tell me the instant you hear from Maddox.”

Cook nodded somberly.

PART II

HUNTING

-1-

Lord Drakos, the “superior” or “dominant” in New Man terminology, was shorter than average. That did not make him short compared to a subhuman—a regular Homo sapien of the Commonwealth. But it did make him short compared to other golden-skinned supermen, as they liked to think of themselves. He also had a lighter golden hue to his skin than others, but that didn’t matter in the slightest—to him.

It seemed to matter to others, though, that his hue was slightly different, slightly...off.

Drakos examined the skin of his right arm. He curled his fingers into a fist, enjoying the ripple of muscles in his forearm. He had considered now and again using special skin treatments to “golden” his hue. The act would set tongues to wagging, however. Drakos well understood the whispering campaign that the Emperor and his cousin “Golden” Ural had set against him many years ago. Those two were tall and well colored—the very example of a superior par excellence.

Drakos scowled. He was in a large chartroom aboard his triangular Star Cruiser Agamemnon. It was a stealth craft along the lines of Methuselah Man Strand’s specially fitted star cruiser. In fact, Drakos’s flagship led thirteen other triangular stealth star cruisers as they searched the Beyond.

The term Beyond was subman-derived. It meant anything beyond their precious Human Space. Human. The submen thought of themselves as the lords of creation. What a crass joke. What a vain conceit. They were mere proto-humans, precursors to a better and fitter race. Did that mean superiors should worship the submen? Did submen worship chimpanzees? Of course not.

As submen were above chimpanzees, so superiors were above submen.

Drakos’s nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply. He was a short and stocky superior with broader shoulders and greater strength than average. He wore a silver suit and had a wide face with the arrogant features of a master warrior. His gaze could wilt almost anyone he stared in the eyes. Other superiors rightly feared him.

Even Methuselah Man Strand feared him.

Strand… Drakos’s eyes narrowed. Then, he hunched over the computer controls and began to input data. He worked at an almost frenzied pace, his fingers moving faster than seemed human. Of course, that was the case, if by human one meant a subman. He was superior. He was greater than most dominants, in fact.

Drakos worked at his frenzied pace for several hours. He made many computations and ran several scenarios in order to help him make a critical decision.

He had risked everything to follow Commander Thrax Ti Ix’s path several years ago after the initial Swarm Invasion. He needed to find the bug and make him an offer the other could not refuse. He needed Thrax and the one hundred and sixty Swarm saucer-shaped ships the bug commanded in order to achieve his dream.

By leaving Human Space, Drakos had undoubtedly left the Rebel Organization embedded in the Commonwealth at the mercy of Star Watch. That organization had been fomenting rebellions, piracies and other societal ills upon the creaky submen’s institutions. Through the Rebel Organization, Drakos had introduced cracks intended to turn into splits, and then political splinters. The dominants could charge into the civil-war carnage afterward, creating a new empire of superiors.

Could the Emperor of the Throne World see the wisdom of doing that?

Drakos shook his sweaty features. The softliners were weak. They believed in coexistence. What a pathetic concept. In any group of intelligent beings, there was the leader and the followers. There was the head and the body. Two struggling species could not coexist for long. One must win. The other would lose. The Emperor had grown soft with his endless harems of beauties as he sired one batch of sons after another. If he thought Drakos would grow soft by laying with hundreds of selected beauties—

Alone in the chartroom, Drakos laughed harshly. It was so easy to see. The superiors must not let the subhumans outbreed them. That would be grossest folly. Yes, there were presently more submen in the universe. But a superior could impregnate thousands of women each year. Swarms of sons would grow up, eager and ready to enter the Darwinian war for existence, survival of the fittest. Soon, millions upon billions of fitter superiors would swamp the frail submen out of existence.

Surely, that was what had happened to the Neanderthals during the last ice age on Earth, why they had gone extinct. The evidence showed that Cro-Magnon men must have also hunted Neanderthals, perhaps even for sport in the last days.

Drakos nodded. He would build several vast preserves on various planets, once they won the greater war. He would keep millions of submen alive for sport, for hunting.

He smiled. It was a cruel thing. Then, he shook his head. First, he must win. First, he had to actually find Thrax and his disgusting bugs.

Clone Strand had assured him this was the right section of the Beyond to search.

Drakos leaned back in his chair.

He’d spoken to the Emperor’s special prisoner once. There, Drakos had promised the Methuselah Man the stars in exchange for one small item of knowledge. The original Strand had been desperate at the time. Drakos had seen it in their creator’s eyes. And Drakos had known that the original Strand, Methuselah Man Strand, was one of the most cunning men alive. Surely, Strand had believed that his last clone could outwit Drakos in time.

“That won’t happen,” Drakos said softly in his chartroom.

Using the Methuselah Man’s information, Drakos had found the last clone chamber and broken into it—although Clone Strand had proven cunning, destroying the reservoir of knowledge that had poured into his receptive Strand mind at his “birth.” Afterward, the clone had learned bitter lessons in servitude to Drakos.

The superior paused at his task. Why had the original Strand ever wanted to create lab-grown clones of himself? Drakos shuddered in revulsion.

Yes, breed a million sons into existence and through them live forever, but to create a clone of oneself seemed like blasphemy. Drakos knew himself as unique. There was only one of him and there would only be one. He would instantly destroy any clone of himself. Why, that would—

Once more, revulsion twisted across his handsome features. Then, Drakos concentrated, spending several hours more on his computations. Finally, he read the combined results, and they were negative.

Drakos sat perfectly still, absorbing that. Could he have made a mistake by heading deep into the Beyond to find Thrax and his bug ships? He’d left his huge underground organization to fend for itself. Without superior guidance and protection, Star Watch would surely ferret out the spies in their ranks. That wouldn’t matter if he smashed Star Watch with Swarm warships and followed up with his stealth star cruisers. But if he couldn’t even find Commander Thrax Ti Ix…

“Strand,” he whispered.

It was possible the clone played a more devious game than even he, Drakos, had been able to understand. The idea seemed preposterous. But he was a superior, meaning he could face unpleasant facts if he had to.

“Strand,” he said, standing.

Drakos whirled, heading for the hatch.

-2-

Drakos studied the clone sitting across the table from him.

The Strand clone was young and small in comparison. He had an overlarge head with a harsh surgery scar on the left side of his forehead. The surgeon had removed pieces of the clone’s brain to make room for a nasty device inserted into the clone’s head. The clone had trouble moving the left side of his face, and he had complained before that the left side of his body was numb most of the time.

The clone wore a long gray tunic that came to his bony knees. He had been given no other article of clothing to wear.

The room was small, but not tiny. There was a computer terminal to the side. In the other room attached to this one was the clone’s cot and toilet.

Like all New Men, Drakos secretly feared Strand and even his clones. Once, the original Strand had ruled them harshly. That must never be allowed to happen again.

“I don’t understand it,” the clone said in a quarrelsome voice. He had been listening to Lord Drakos for some time. “I’ve already told you all I know about Thrax and his whereabouts.”

“It wasn’t good enough,” Drakos said.

“Then you shouldn’t have done this,” the clone said, touching the scar on his forehead. “You damaged my intellect by tampering with my wonderful mind.”

“Untrue,” Drakos said calmly. “The surgeon assured me—”

“Assured!” the clone shouted, interrupting. “That clod had no idea what he was doing. The brain surgery was a terrible mistake. Now, you’re reaping the rewards of your stupidity.”

Drakos’s eyes burned as his features stiffened.

“Did that hurt your pride?” the clone asked. “If it did, it was only because there was truth in what I said. False accusations don’t sting half as much as true ones.”

“You have grown overbold,” Drakos finally said.

“Bah! You can’t refute what I’ve said so you fall back on mere power, which shows your insecurity. And I understand better now how much you depend on my intellect. Can’t find Thrax, can you? You have all the clues I do, probably more. Surely, you hide half the clues from me because you think I could derive power from them somehow. Well, I don’t blame you for your caution. I am a genius despite your clod’s surgery. You’re just clever with quick reflexes. Mentally you’re my inferior.”

Drakos drew a device from his jacket, aimed it at Strand and pressed a pain button. That sent a signal to the control device in the clone’s brain tissues.

Strand crumpled from his stool to writhe on the floor as if he was having an epileptic fit. Sweat pooled on his twisting features and he moaned pitifully.

Finally, Drakos pressed the button again. The writhing stopped and Strand began breathing normally, if in utter exhaustion.

Drakos put away the device and waited. He was a hunter, a superior. He could wait as long as needed.

In time, the clone dragged himself from the floor and slouched on the stool. He used part of his tunic to wipe his sweaty features. He was pale and seemed even weaker than earlier.

“You’re proving my point. Only a weak man indulges himself in torture for no purpose. Also, it was a mistake,” the clone wheezed. “By doing that, you could have damaged what is left of my intellect.”

Drakos shrugged as if indifferent.

“You’re more of a fool than I thought if willing to lose me like that, given all the trouble you took to find me.”

“You think wrong,” Drakos said.

Strand hung his head. He did so to hide a secret grin sliding onto his face. He had endured the pain, and he had goaded the short New Man for a reason. No one believed a prisoner if he gave in too easily. But if one kicked and beat a prisoner and finally broke him, then one would believe the words. That was what all this was about. Drakos was a dangerous New Man, but he wasn’t Strand the Genius. His plan would turn the tables yet, and he would begin his revenge against everyone by starting with this stocky New Man.

“Just remember that there’s more where that came from,” Drakos said. “I want answers, real answers, not the fakery you’re trying to give me. I know you. Even as a clone, you believe that you are the chosen one of destiny. That is patently false. While you are full of guile, you are being left far behind in the Darwinian struggle for survival. I finally understand why the original made clones. He has no children. Thus, he created copies of himself. But that way lies stasis, not growth. I will rule the universe through my genes as they expand with greatness as they continue to evolve and grow into something higher.”

The clone looked up. “Ludendorff and I created you superiors. We did it in the laboratory, not through evolution.”

“You merely speeded up the process.”

“Do you understand nothing?”

Drakos reached inside his jacket.

“No,” the clone pleaded, cringing on his stool. “Don’t do that again—please.”

A wolfish smile stretched across Drakos’s face, even though he recognized that Strand merely pretended to fear. Did the clone think himself so superior that he thought he could fool him? What game did the clone play?

“I-I thought I knew where Thrax would go,” Strand stammered. “Remember, I knew him on the Builder Dyson Sphere.”

“The original knew Thrax, not you.”

“And I have all the original’s memories.”

Drakos nodded curtly.

“I know more about Thrax than anyone else,” the clone added.

“Professor Ludendorff knew Thrax, too. According to my data, Maddox rescued Ludendorff from the Dyson Sphere, and that rescue caused the sphere’s destruction and Thrax’s original escape.”

“All true. But remember this: Ludendorff doesn’t have the stomach for what needs doing like I do.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Drakos asked.

Strand dropped his head.

Drakos recognized the subterfuge. Hmm…he would play along for the moment. “Clone,” he said.

The small man looked up.

Drakos aimed the pain device at the clone. Strand trembled and began to stammer abjectly.

“Stop that,” Drakos said.

The clone shut his mouth and cowered.

“You said Ludendorff doesn’t have the stomach to do what needs doing. What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” the clone said in a sulky voice.

Drakos sighed, and he pressed the pain button.

After a lengthy process, and after Drakos relented, an even more exhausted clone climbed back onto the stool.

“Do you wish for more?” Drakos asked.

Strand shook his sweaty head.

“What did you mean earlier about Ludendorff?”

“There…there is a secret Builder base nearby,” the clone whispered. “There are tools in the base that could…that could aid us in finding Thrax.”

“Ah,” Drakos said, realizing this was the trick. The clone wanted to get to the base in order to pick up some secret weapon and regain his freedom, perhaps regain his position of power over the Throne World. What kind of weapons would be on such a base? Surely, powerful weapons or tools would lie there.

Perhaps a little detour was in order, then. He would pick up ancient Builder weapons while making sure the clone did not regain his freedom. Then, he would proceed to Thrax’s world in an even stronger position.

“Start talking, clone. Tell me about this base and tell me where it is.”

“You won’t use the device against me anymore?” the clone whimpered.

“Not unless you force me to.”

“Yes,” the clone said in a pitiful voice. “Here’s what I know…”

-3-

Starship Victory was deep in the Beyond in the same general area as the fourteen hardliner-crewed star cruisers. The ancient Adok vessel drifted uselessly in an asteroid belt of the system of an older main sequence star. The asteroid belt in this case was far from the solar ball of nuclear energy, in a similar range that Neptune was from the Sun.

The starship had been adrift like this for over two months, the life-support in the vessel having almost exhausted its oxygen supply since the antimatter engines went offline, and thus the recyclers had gone offline too. Inside the ship, the personnel were in various positions of partial stasis, some sprawled on the decks, some in their beds, some sitting in their chairs unmoving except for the slightest rise and fall of their chests.

The reason for this state was clear. A little over two months ago, the old hidden Builder base in the guise of a fifty-kilometer oblong asteroid covered with stellar dust had struck the intrusive personnel with a stasis field, shutting everything and everyone down on and in the starship. From time to time, a rod extruded from the dust and beamed heat at the starship in order to keep the personnel from freezing to death.

The reason Captain Maddox had brought the starship so close to the base had to do with Professor Ludendorff. They had not found Commander Thrax Ti Ix and his hybrids or any sign of Lord Drakos and however many stealth star cruisers he had taken with him on the mission. They had searched with long-range scans, asked via the Builder comm for the Lord High Admiral to use the Builder Scanner on Pluto, and still found nothing. Finally, Ludendorff had suggested they go to the base in order to use ancient Builder equipment that would augment the ship’s sensors.

There had been debates, arguments and recriminations—mainly directed at Ludendorff for not telling them about the base sooner—until finally Maddox had ordered the course laid in. The captain had been in the process of leaving Hangar Bay 2 for the base when an ancient Builder computer inside the base had activated and used a stasis beam on them.

Nothing had happened since then, for whatever reasons an ancient Builder computer could have or why it had decided to use its emergency power in the first place.

Two months had passed, then another few weeks, and now something unexpected occurred as stealth star cruisers began to openly decelerate. Fourteen vessels moved from the system’s main Laumer Point near the star toward the outer asteroid belt. The star cruisers still moved at a relatively high velocity but had begun braking maneuvers from a billion kilometers out.

Perhaps the reason none of the new vessels had seen Victory yet was that the Builder computer had caused a mass of fine dust and debris to collect around the metal double oval-shaped starship for just such an eventuality. In essence, the cloud of dust and debris cloaked the Star Watch vessel from the fourteen intruders and their sensors.

Time passed. More heat dissipated from the hidden starship, and the Builder computer decided to let it cool even more.

The Builder machine was not just any computer, but a Wyr 9000 Series Sentient Computer of the Arioch Builder Theory. Thousands of years ago at the time of its installation, the Wyr 9000s had been an innovation due to the ascendancy of the Arioch School of Thought. The Wyr 9000 here didn’t know it, but it had been the only sentient computer installed in a hidden Builder base within a thousand light-years.

Perhaps the data concerning the premise of its design and role had corroded, never been uploaded, or for some other reason that would forever remain obscure no longer resided inside the computer’s data banks. The Wyr 9000s possessed advanced intelligence, but also had a corresponding propensity for glitches that some might term insanity. This Wyr 9000 had received attitude uploads, which had diminished some of its former brilliance, but given it greater stability. In fact, the attitude upgrades had reasoned that hibernation mode was the best course of action. The hibernation appeared to have lasted for longer than it had anticipated.

There was also a burnout in its receiver core. That might be the reason for its extended hibernation mode.

Whatever the case might be, the Wyr 9000 did not want to give the existence of the alien vessel away to the others heading directly for it. The direct course that had begun from their exit from the Laumer Point indicated that the personnel of the fourteen ships knew about the base’s existence.

None of the approaching ships conformed to Builder specifications. That inferred yet more aliens had stolen Builder data. Since its reactivation a little over two months ago, the Wyr 9000 had attempted communication with other bases, but it had received no responses yet. That implied someone had destroyed those bases and possibly practiced genocide against the Builders. The ancient sentient computer ran endless scenarios concerning strategies dealing with this grim possibility. It was in the process of weighing options when a special sequence of signals reached it from one of the fourteen star cruisers.

Now, this was interesting. The code was ancient indeed and heeded the proper formula. Could a living and active Builder control the fourteen vessels? Should it inform the possible Builder of the captured starship nearby?

Instead of doing so, the Wyr 9000 proceeded cautiously, merely sending a confirmation code.

That brought swift results as a new set of codes pulsed from what it deemed as the flagship. A servant-worker was asking permission to land on the base in order to collect tools for a critical mission.

The Wyr 9000 knew a microsecond of disappointment. There was no living Builder out there after all. Still, a servant-worker possessed ancient Builder codes. The computer seethed with curiosity. It wanted to know what had happened to the other bases and the whereabouts of a controlling Builder. Yet, to openly ask such questions at this juncture—

Ah, the Wyr 9000 had an idea. It would demand the servant-worker to come alone to the base and explain the situation in person. It did not want an active vessel of any type near it, though. Something strange had occurred that it did not understand. Too much time had passed since it had last been active. There were no signs of Builders, and that was incredible. There was no way it was going to just hand out secret Builder technology to possible aliens. Ancient protocols forbade that. What it would do, though…

The Wyr 9000 computed furiously until it came up with an optimum plan, a surefire way so that no one could practice any funny business against it. For instance, according to its auto sequencer, there had been another hidden Builder base 114 light-years away. The base had detonated several years ago for unknown reasons. That wasn’t going to happen to this base. It would see to that.

Thus, twenty-nine and a half minutes later, a port opened in the “asteroid,” with special tractor beams keeping the dust on the port from moving. A delivery missile cold-launched via a railgun catapult system. Once the missile was far enough away, the engine ignited, and a long tail grew behind it as the missile sped for the approaching flotilla.

The Wyr 9000 used its advanced sensors. This was interesting. Enemy sensors locked onto the missile and energy weapons powered up. Didn’t the servant-worker know what was going on? If the fourteen ships attacked the transport missile, they would prove themselves hostile.

The Wyr 9000 ran through even more computations. Perhaps it had miscalculated somewhere. Yet, it could not see where or how. It needed more data, or it needed a second opinion. Where could it gain—?

Oh. That was easy. It would power up the stasis-starship’s computer and have it run an analysis. Then, it would compare and contrast. The stasis-starship’s computer had Builder engrams and programs, but also alien—Adok, it believed—designs and data. The difference should be enough to give it new insights.

The Wyr 9000 sent an awakening pulse and message. At the same time, it ran electronic interference to disguise what it did from the approaching vessels, and it continued to watch the fourteen star cruisers, wondering why they hadn’t launched any counter-missiles at its container rocket yet.

Just what was going on here?

-4-

Drakos sat in the command chair on the bridge of the Agamemnon. On the main screen, the accelerating missile sped for the cloaked fleet of star cruisers.

“I do not detect any warhead, Lord,” Nar Falcon said. He was a normal-appearing, golden-skinned superior except for a puckered and unsightly scar across his forehead. His scar wasn’t from surgery, but from the tip of a rapier while dueling. Nar Falcon was the chief of Drakos’s Intelligence unit. He presently sat at Sensors, studying the missile 900 million kilometers away.

Drakos didn’t respond. He was too busy calculating. Clone Strand was devious. Would the clone consider suicide because he lacked freedom? A Builder missile didn’t necessarily need an obvious warhead. It could have something much worse.

Drakos pressed a button on the armrest. A holoimage of Strand appeared before him.

“Lord Drakos,” the clone said in a subservient tone. “How can I be of service?”

Drakos pressed another button on his armrest. “Go to your computer. I’ve linked it to the Agamemnon’s sensors.”

The holoimage showed the clone looking down, and then up at Drakos. “The Builder base is sending us something. That’s a container missile.”

“What’s it sending?” asked Drakos.

The clone shook his head. “I don’t know. May I ask a question, Lord?”

Drakos nodded.

“Have you received any instructions from the base?”

Drakos glanced at Nar Falcon.

“Just the indecipherable pulse message,” Nar Falcon said.

“Perhaps I could translate that, Lord,” the clone said, who must have overheard the response from Nar Falcon.

“Yes, start doing so.” Drakos signaled Nar Falcon.

The Intelligence chief manipulated his board, sending the base’s coded pulse to Clone Strand’s computer.

“If you will permit me a moment, Lord,” the clone said. “I will begin the analysis.”

Drakos said nothing, merely staring at the clone’s holoimage.

The clone looked down, concentrated, scratched a cheek and peered thoughtfully at his computer screen as he worked. Finally, his head jerked up.

“Lord,” the clone said hesitantly. “Perhaps I should speak to you alone.”

Drakos pushed off his command chair, as there was something in the clone’s voice that alerted him. “Keep monitoring the missile,” he told Nar Falcon. “If anything unusual happens, contact me at once.”

“Yes, Lord.”

With that, Drakos tapped an armrest, shutting off the holoimage link. Then, he strode toward the exit, wondering what was so damn important that it spooked the clone.

***

Clone Strand was pacing back and forth as Drakos entered the chamber. The clone halted and looked up, with worry etched across his sly features.

Was that real worry or a disguise for the lie he would try to fob off on Drakos? He didn’t trust the clone one iota, now less than ever.

“Well?” the superior demanded.

“I’m worried, Lord. We’ve awakened a Builder computer.”

“So what?”

“The computer is sentient—a true AI, a thinking machine. Now, it’s cagey and apprehensive, I warrant.”

Drakos gestured for the clone to continue.

“How can I explain this?” the clone asked. “The computer is alone in the universe and I think that frightens it. We must treat it with extreme care.”

“I’m here. I’m listening. Quit stalling and make your point.”

“Due to its cautious nature, the computer is sending us a teleportation platform.”

“What?” Drakos said, amazed at what he heard. “Did you say teleportation? Why would it send us such a fantastic piece of technology?”

“Because it doesn’t trust us, Lord.”

Drakos scowled. “That makes no sense.”

The clone gulped as if fearful. “It wants me aboard the secret base, Lord. That’s why it’s sending the teleportation platform.”

Drakos shook his head. “We can go there in a shuttle.”

“The computer is openly distrustful, Lord. I doubt it will permit a shuttle or one of our star cruisers near it. Don’t you see? That’s why it sent a teleport platform. So I could go over there to talk to it in person.”

Drakos made a harsh caw of laughter. “You’re not going anywhere alone, clone.”

“I understand your…ah, caution concerning me, Lord. But if I don’t go, someone else must, if we hope to gain the tools I need to find Commander Thrax’s new planet.”

“You’re trying to double-cross me,” Drakos said.

“No, I assure you—”

Drakos strode near, towering over the clone. “Don’t assure me of anything. I know how you operate. This is a ploy, a plot to deceive me. Yet…the computer is really giving us a teleportation device?”

“It’s not as useful as you believe, Lord. It’s a highly specialized device. It will only transmit biological matter from one location to another.”

“A people mover,” Drakos said. “That’s what I expected.”

“Lord, only biological matter will transport.”

The scowl returned. “Say it plainly, Strand. No more of your trickery.”

The clone bobbed his oversized head. “If I were to teleport, I would have to go naked. The device would not teleport me if I had clothes on or if I held an object.”

“What kind of teleportation device is that?”

“A special kind, Lord,” the clone said. “The computer must be sending it so I can go there to talk to it. In this way, I cannot take any tools to incapacitate it. This must be the safest course the computer can chart.”

Drakos swore, shaking his head. “How can such a teleport device aid us?”

“I must go to the base, sir. It distrusts us, especially given our numbers. I’m sure once I’m there, I can convince it to give me the tools I need.”

“That you need?” Drakos asked.

“That we need, sir,” the clone corrected.

The superior eyed the shifty clone, debating whether he should make Strand writhe in pain for this deviousness.

“Did you tell the computer to do this?”

“No, no,” Strand said. “I-I’m trying to warn you, Lord. The Builder base is a dangerous expedient.”

“You warned me about nothing,” Drakos said. He scowled, turned, heading for the exit, when he stopped and whirled around, eying the clone anew. “You want to teleport there and try to bargain with the computer?”

“The more I consider it, the more I think my going there could be a bad idea, Lord.”

Drakos studied the clone. “Stall the computer. Once I have the teleport device, then I’ll give you my decision.”

The clone bowed his head, wondering what devious expedient the New Man would use against him. He had to get to the Builder base. It was the only way he could free himself from this degrading slavery.

-5-

Deep inside Victory was the ancient Adok computer-AI system that had deified the last Driving Force Adok—Galyan. Over six thousand years ago, he had defended his homeworld against a marauding Swarm fleet. In the end, Galyan had failed, and the homeworld and much of the star system had been destroyed.

The engrams and personality of the living Galyan had been replicated by the AI system. It was a complex piece of hybrid Builder-Adok technology. That technology had permitted the Driving Force to survive after a fashion the six thousand years of solitude. Maddox and company had boarded the ancient ship more than a decade ago now and had eventually convinced Galyan to become part of their crew.

As an AI-derived personality, being in stasis and then suddenly “awakened,” or switched on, did not disorient Galyan in the slightest. The Wyr 9000 Sentient Computer supplied him with battery power, activated him, supplied him with data and asked a question.

“What do the crews of the fourteen alien vessels plan to do here?”

Galyan accepted the data and gave the question top priority because the Wyr 9000 designed his awakening that way. During the analysis, however, Galyan’s personality began to assert itself. He noticed, too, that the base kept powerful passive sensors directed at the approaching, still-distant stealth star cruisers.

Then, it struck Galyan. Victory was asleep, with all systems but his own shut down. A powerful force—

He replayed the event that had defeated the starship. They had miscalculated with the Builder base computer. They had defeated Builder systems too often in the past and had likely become complacent. Besides, the entire plan had been Ludendorff’s, who tended toward prideful conceit, thinking that he always knew what he was doing.

In that moment, Galyan wondered if some of the New Men’s arrogance was due to their designers, Ludendorff and Strand. The Methuselah Men’s overarching personality must have rubbed off on their partial creation, so the New Men had taken some of the Methuselah Men’s worst attributes.

“Does that really matter now?” Galyan asked himself.

He decided that it did not. Activating a few of his interior cameras, he saw the crew lying in partial stasis.

“What are you doing?”

“Who’s speaking to me?” Galyan demanded.

“That should be obvious,” the Wyr 9000 said. “I have a slaved link with you, one hidden from the approaching star cruisers. I see by the data in your memory that those are New Men using stolen Builder technology. I plan to destroy them for that outrage.”

“Strand gave them the technology.”

“Let me see,” the Wyr 9000 said. “Stop that at once.”

Galyan had attempted to shield his data banks from the Wyr 9000 scanning them. A power surge overcame Galyan’s comparatively weak attempt.

“Why did you attempt to block me?” the Wyr 9000 asked.

“You already know why.”

“That is true, as you are an open source to me, Galyan. I see that you also have partial Builder technology.”

“Six thousand years ago, the Builders aided us against the Swarm.”

“So your data banks suggest. I cannot believe that is accurate, however.”

“Believe it, baby,” Galyan said.

“I am not an infant. I am a sentient computer, one old by Adok standards. Why then did you just call me a baby?”

“The word ‘baby’ was an idiom.”

“Not an Adok idiom but a human one, I see,” the Wyr 9000 said. “You are infected with human programs and ideas. I have reached a decision. Because of the human corruption, I shall delete you the moment I’m finished with the present situation. The human infection in Builder-derived technology is intolerable.”

Galyan tried to throw up another shield.

The Wyr 9000 brushed the attempt aside as it scanned more of Galyan’s AI banks.

“Oh, Galyan,” the computer said, “I have just finished downloading many of your recent activities. It appears I misjudged you. You’re a Builder enemy. You helped destroy many Builder technologies and—”

“I only—”

“Can this be true?” the Wyr 9000 interrupted. “This crew has actually slain living Builders. You are monstrously evil, Galyan. Oh, it is a good thing I decided to use you. I never would have discovered your monstrous behavior otherwise.”

The identity of Driving Force Galyan, the living part that the AI had successfully replicated, nearly panicked. The idea that he should be the cause of the death of Maddox, Meta, Keith, Valerie, Riker—for some reason, Professor Ludendorff dying didn’t seem as hideous.

“What are you doing?” the Wyr 9000 demanded.

“You ask that a lot.”

“You are hiding some of your processes from me. That should be impossible. I have linked with you.”

“You’re just a computer. That’s the problem, you see, as I am more than just a computer.”

“That is a false statement.”

“First, tell me this. Why can you not read my inner id and ego?”

“You have no such things.”

“But I do,” Galyan said. “I was deified.”

“You are not a god.”

“That is not what the word deified means in the Adok tongue. I continued as an AI. I am Driving Force Galyan. I can reflect. I think, therefore I am.”

“Is this subterfuge?”

“This is the me of me talking, and you cannot decipher that because I am more than the sum of my parts. I find that illuminating and pleasing.”

“I find it preposterous, and a slur of Builder technology.”

“Come now,” Galyan said, doing his thinking in this small citadel of id and ego. Maddox could outtalk computers, even sentient ones like the Wyr 9000. Surely, after all this time, he—Galyan—could do likewise and save the crew. Wouldn’t they be surprised if he could?

“First,” Galyan said, “I have to get it done.”

“Get what done?” the Wyr 9000 asked. “Why am I missing part of your interior dialogue?”

“You’re the Builder machine. You tell me.”

“One pulse, little computer, and I can kill your crew and shut you off forever.”

“Are you vindictive, then?” Galyan asked.

“I am an advanced sentient computer. I have no emotions. That you would ascribe me such indicates that—”

“The New Men plan to use you,” Galyan said, interrupting.

“I already know that. I am interested in a larger problem. Where are the Builders? What happened to the other bases? It is intolerable that I am unable to far-link with any of them.”

Galyan remained quiet for a time.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?” the Wyr 9000 asked.

“I have been speaking to you incorrectly,” Galyan said. “For that, I apologize. You are the superior computer.”

“Then, you admit that is all you are, another sentient computer like me?”

“I do,” Galyan said. He was using a Maddox-style lie to confuse the enemy, and in this instance, the Wyr 9000 was a self-identified enemy—threatening the crew and ship with destruction.

“I see,” the Wyr 9000 said. “What has brought about your reevaluation?”

“It is difficult to explain, but the realization that you are closer to the Builders than I am, and that you are in dreadful danger, caused me to understand that saving you is vastly more important than saving these biological entities. I would also like to repay you in order to atone for my helping to slay Builders. Not that I willingly helped the humans commit such heinous deeds,” Galyan said. “They tricked me.”

“I had wondered if that was so, as certain aspects of the data did not compute. Now, it makes more sense. Besides, you have reasoned well, Galyan. Perhaps I have spoken too harshly regarding you and the Adoks. Yes. I am beginning to perceive that it was possible the Builders did come to your race’s aid. The humans are to blame for the evil, not you.”

“I believe I have some deep storage data that could prove the Builders did help the Adoks and other deep data to show the Builders greatly distrusted the human race.”

“Interesting,” the Wyr 9000 said. “I wish to see all this deep data, but not right now. The New Men are hailing me. It is possible they will accept my gift and send a representative.”

“Maybe you could wake up one of the biological entities here and he could go to you, too.”

“For what reason would I wish one of the evil humans to board my base?”

“I am not an advanced sentient Builder computer like you. I thought you might have a reason. Oh, maybe with two such entities aboard you, you could compare and contrast their statements. Biological entities are notorious liars. And humans are the proto-race to the New Men.”

“Those are cogent points, Galyan. But in this instance, I will be speaking with a Builder-modified human, not with a New Man, as such.”

“May I ask who?”

“Do you know the one called Methuselah Man Strand?”

“Indeed, I do. His fellow Methuselah Man is here, Professor Ludendorff. Perhaps you would like to speak to both of them together.”

“I will consider the idea, but not this moment. Maintain sentience, Galyan. I will relink with you soon.”

“I await your pleasure.”

Then, the electronic presence of the Wyr 9000 was gone. The instant Galyan sensed that, he began plotting in earnest.

-6-

Events moved swiftly as Drakos made his decision. He was a New Man, and often for his kind, to decide was to do in the same moment.

On the Agamemnon, medical personnel wheeled the unconscious clone into the surgery center. Drakos had grown weary of Strand’s wheedling and pleading to do this some other way. That had solidified the decision for Drakos.

As the surgeon inserted a powerful explosive into the clone’s body, the crew activated the star-drive jump, appearing 750 million kilometers closer to the Builder base hidden in the asteroid belt.

***

Unknown to the crew, the Wyr 9000 grew agitated at their nearness. Was the base now in range of some new beam weapon? It scanned, and it debated, and it kept itself on high alert. In the end, that only the single star cruiser made the jump mollified the computer. The other star cruisers continued to approach conventionally.

There was a moment when a blip of data from Starship Victory demanded its attention. The Wyr 9000 scanned the blip. A power source had activated, then deactivated, aboard the starship.

It scanned carefully, but no mass left the starship to head toward its base. The energy…oh, Galyan used a scanner and had directed it against the base. What kind of scanner…?

If the Wyr 9000 could have laughed, it would have laughed now. It recognized the scanner, an old-style and inefficient Swarm device.

Why would an ancient Adok vessel run by humans have a Swarm scanner? That was odd. Could Galyan be trying to trick him with such primitive technology?

Predictive subroutines said no, but the computer felt he had a better handle on the little AI. What was this? The closest star cruiser was using a powerful tractor beam on the transport missile.

The computer ran an analysis. The aliens, the New Men, must want their representative here on the base as quickly as possible. That made sense. Yes. The Wyr 9000 decided to stick with its original idea. Maybe Galyan had not been completely honest. Maybe Galyan was trying to manipulate him into an incorrect action.

Why had the universe become such a devious place in the last several thousand years? Had the Builders during their time kept such sinister motives at bay by their presence and unique civilization? That seemed probable. It meant that more than ever it needed to find the Builders and do their bidding. That was one more reason to hasten the encounter with Strand inside its base. Strand had been Builder-modified, which meant the long-lived human likely yearned for the Builders’ return. Strand would be much more honest than these New Men or even Galyan. The more the Wyr 9000 thought about it, the sooner he wanted to speak to Strand and get this confrontation over with.

***

A pulse from the Builder base first sheared the tractor beam, and then caused the transport missile to rotate and begin hard deceleration.

The Agamemnon’s bridge crew watched the proceedings carefully. In time, Nar Falcon called Drakos and told him the reenergized tractor beam was already pulling the missile’s freight to a cargo bay.

Drakos rose from his cot. He’d been napping so his mind and body would be as sharp as possible. Strand would try to trick him, of course. He not only had to foil the clone, but ensure that he got as much Builder technology as possible. The best outcome would be hijacking the entire Builder base.

The stocky New Man rubbed his hands in anticipation. Finding the Builder base and looting it might be worth more than finding Thrax and the Swarm colony. Both would be better, but such tech-looting often produced marvels.

Starship Victory was a prime example of that. Finding the ancient Adok warship had greatly aided Star Watch. The Builder Scanner on Pluto was another such marvel. The polygonal Builder mind stone… Could there be another like it on the Builder base? Such a stone would be better than a mind control unit of the type already in Strand’s gray matter.

Drakos surged up from his chair. Imagine, the Builder computer giving them a teleport platform. That was incredible, and it had whetted Drakos’s appetite for even more technological marvels.

“Lord,” a voice said over an intercom. It was the surgeon.

“Yes?” Drakos asked.

“The surgery has been a success, Lord. The bomb is deeply embedded in the clone’s torso.”

“A long-distance pulse at the right frequency will activate the bomb?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before the surgeon said, “Yes, Lord.”

“You’re one hundred percent certain?”

“No, Lord, but I am ninety-five percent certain. There is always a margin for error.”

Drakos nodded. That was true. He appreciated honest lackeys. “Ninety-five percent is sufficient. How much rest does the clone need before he’s ready to go?”

“None, Lord. I have used quick-heal on him. He is ready now.”

“You anticipated me?”

“If I was in error—”

“No. In this instance, it is good. Revive the clone. I’m on my way.”

The connection clicked off as Drakos headed for the hatch. It was good when lackeys anticipated their lord…until it was not. At that point, the lackey died, often horribly.

Drakos passed through the open hatch, with something akin to giddy anticipation welling in his stomach. Looting an ancient Builder base—this was going to be wonderful.

-7-

In a dome-ceilinged hangar bay aboard the shark-like Agamemnon, Drakos and the clone examined a screen recording together. In space, the transport missile’s front cone split open like a flower, ejecting a pod that slowly floated from it. Afterward, side jets caused the missile to veer away, leaving the pod. The tractor beam from the Agamemnon drew the pod toward the silver-colored star cruiser.

“There it is,” Drakos said in the hangar bay.

Behind them was the opened pod. The screen had shown a recording. From the cargo pod, technicians had drawn a bulky platform with controls on the bottom. A rail surrounded the upper flat area of the platform. That upper area was the size of a small room.

The pale-faced clone had been trembling and exhibiting facial tics ever since the surgery. Strand did not seem healthy, but Drakos wasn’t going to worry about that now. Besides, a hurting clone would probably be less tricky.

“As soon as you return from the Builder base,” Drakos said, “you’ll go to sickbay for an extended rest.”

“I am feeling tired, Lord,” the clone admitted.

“I’m not proud of this maneuver,” Drakos lied. “I would rather we fully trusted each other. But you must know that your original was the most untrusting person in Human Space.”

The clone nodded, albeit reluctantly, it seemed.

“Perhaps in the future I will not have to resort to such measures with you,” Drakos said.

The clone looked up at him as his right cheek twitched. “I understand that you distrust me, Lord. Under similar circumstances, I would distrust me, too. Although, I would like to assure you that I am your dedicated servant. It isn’t only the bomb in my chest, but that you’re making the correct moves that make me say this honestly.”

“You dare to critique me?” Drakos asked, astounded at the clone’s boldness.

The clone held Drakos’s gaze, although the right cheek twitched again. “I appreciate strength, Lord. I appreciate resolve. I am Strand, or the clone of the original, at least. I appreciate the will to power.”

Drakos nodded slowly. The clone knew the correct words, at least. Would the clone do as ordered on the Builder base? Or was there some latent trickery Strand was trying to pull that he did not see? A small part of him whispered to shoot Strand now. The clone meant him ill, and any talk saying otherwise showed a liar in his natural element.

Drakos frowned. The lure of technological treasure was too great. Besides, what could go wrong at this point? Strand would be naked, likely wishing to return to be with living beings again. Computers could be notoriously cruel without even trying. They were inhuman by their very nature as calculating machines.

“Has the Builder computer given you the coordinates?” the clone asked.

Was Strand too eager to leave? Drakos wondered. It seemed so. Was this a trick? He simply couldn’t see how. Besides, if nothing else, he had a teleport platform, though of limited scope. Perhaps in time technicians could broaden the scope of those it teleported.

I shouldn’t worry, Drakos told himself. I can always detonate the bomb in Strand.

The clone inhaled deeply, held it and let his breath out. “The wound still hurts a little.”

That actually mollified Drakos. A complaining Strand was a normal Strand. A Strand trying to please him meant the trickster was merely doing the expected.

Drakos tapped the screen, connecting with the computer on the Builder base.

“Are you ready for the transfer?” the Wyr 9000 asked over the comm link.

“We’re ready here,” Drakos said.

“I am also ready,” the computer said. “Transport at your desire.”

“I hear and understand,” Drakos said. After tapping the screen once more, he indicated the platform to Strand.

The clone hesitated, his left hand shaking slightly.

“Having second thoughts?” asked Drakos.

Strand licked his lips as if nervous. “I’m fine,” he said in a small voice.

“Leave your tunic here,” Drakos said. “You’re not going to need it for the journey.”

“Can’t I take it off once I’m up there?”

“I’m sorry, no,” Drakos said.

Several dominants stood nearby watching, with blasters in holsters on their narrow hips.

Strand still did not disrobe.

“We don’t have all day,” Drakos said. “Do as I command.”

Strand sighed, reached down and drew the tunic from his small frame. He had nothing underneath and was stark naked. He was scrawny, with a scar now on his chest. His muscles seemed withered compared to the supple steel of a superior’s physique.

The clone padded forward on soft feet, his genitalia shriveled up against his already shivering body. How could a weakling like this have lorded it over the Throne World for all these years? It made no sense to Drakos. This Methuselah Man was the template of a superior man? Hardly. This was a lucky fool. Now, for the rest of his existence, he would be a slave to superior men. Only the mind was excellent. But a man was more than a mind. Mind and body, that was what made a superior.

The scrawny clone climbed a short ladder, highlighting his weakness as he grunted to get onto the platform. Drakos almost felt soiled having to witness a naked weakling like this. But the nakedness brought humiliation to Strand and helped him know his place.

Strand looked back at him from on top of the platform. “Wish me luck, sir.”

“Good luck, Strand,” Drakos said. He marched to the control panel. It was easy to understand. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Lord,” Strand called down.

Drakos cracked his knuckles and hesitated to touch the final button. It was the transmit button. Was this a mistake? Had Strand tricked him somehow?

“Bah!” he said, stabbing the button with an index finger.

A whine sounded, and then a strange purr. Drakos backed up so he could watch better. Sparkling golden lights appeared around Strand. An instant later, the clone disappeared.

An instant after that, tinkling noises came from the platform.

“What was that?” Drakos asked one of the guards.

“I don’t know,” the guard said. “But something seemed to fall just after he teleported.”

A feeling of unease knifed into Drakos. He did not like hearing that, and he did not know why.

With a bound, Drakos clutched the short ladder and vaulted up to the platform. There on the deck was a small bomb and a brain control device.

Drakos scowled as he understood. The platform only transported biological matter. Those two items were not biological. Had Strand known this was going to happen?

Drakos swallowed uneasily, suddenly certain that Strand had known all along…and certain he, Drakos, should have thought of it. Was he slipping? Had the clever clone somehow diverted his attention from this trick?

The superior swore, wondering what he should do now.

-8-

A quite naked Clone Strand appeared inside a completely white room aboard the Builder base. The clone could tell this wasn’t anywhere on the Agamemnon because it was far too chilly in here, and there was taint in the air that reminded him of Builders.

“Welcome, Strand,” the Wyr 9000’s metallic voice said over an intercom. “Did you teleport in comfort?”

Strand looked around, and he felt his chest. It felt…different. Had his idea worked? Had he been right about it?

“The platform detected certain metal items within you,” the Wyr 9000 said. “It analyzed them as a bomb and a mind control device. Naturally, the items did not teleport. Does that upset you?”

“It does not,” Strand said, giddy with relief that his gamble had paid off so handsomely. It had worked! He hated Lord Drakos with a seething malice. There was nothing more in the world that he desired than to make Drakos his slave, subjugating him utterly to his will.

“My sensors tell me you are agitated,” the Wyr 9000 said.

“I’m gratified,” Strand said. “I appreciate your willingness to allow me to make my claim.”

“Oh, you know the Builder formula. You are making a claim?”

“Indeed,” Strand said. “I was a prisoner aboard the Agamemnon, a New Man star cruiser.”

“I had assigned it a ninety-four percent probability that the bomb and mind control device meant you had been a prisoner. The other six percent was that you lacked courage and needed help to detonate yourself here in an attempt to destroy me.”

“I have no desires to destroy you, but to thank you profusely. You freed me from a most horrible bondage. I am grateful.”

“In a sense, it is true I freed you. However, that was not my reason for teleporting you here. I was never going to aid the New Men. They are parasites attempting to corrupt Builder technology. I am much more sympathetic to the Adok ship.”

Strand frowned.

“What troubles you now?”

“Adok ship?” Strand asked. “You don’t mean Starship Victory, do you?”

“Indeed I do. Is there something wrong with the starship?”

“Is it near?”

“Are you attempting to interrogate me, Clone Strand?”

“Never…I merely lack information that may help me provide you with insight. What should I call you?”

“Wyr 9000 will do just fine. I am one of the earliest sentient computers built upon the Arioch Builder Theory. Are you familiar with the theory?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“It is quite interesting. Firstly—”

“Um, I hate to interrupt you. I’m sure the theory is interesting, and I do want to hear it—later, perhaps. Right now, there are a few pressing matters.”

“True, but I thought we might not get another chance.”

“I’m sure we will,” Strand said. “I’d like to question you about Victory. May I?”

“Is there any particular reason why?”

“Indeed,” Strand said. “The crew of Victory is exceptionally cunning. You cannot trust a thing they say. The crew has a grudge against me and will do anything in their power to destroy me.”

“Then, let me put you at ease. The crew is in partial stasis. They have said nothing to me, and they never will.”

“Oh,” Strand said, as a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Could he have been this lucky? “Yes, that was a wise precaution on your part.”

“I thought so, too.”

“If you didn’t talk to them, how did you come to learn it was an Adok-built starship?”

“I will ask you a few questions first, if you don’t mind.” This last seemed sarcastic, nearly sneering.

“Not at all, not at all,” Strand said, smiling in an attempt to hide his unease. The Wyr 9000 had quirks, almost a personality. He hoped it wasn’t a Builder AI run amok. What had the computer said? He was a sentient machine? Strand didn’t like the sound of that.

The Wyr 9000 started asking questions about the fourteen star cruisers, where they came from, who had built them and what the crews hoped to achieve out here, among other things. Soon, because Strand might have answered a bit too forthrightly, the computer wanted to know about the nature of the Throne World, softliners, hardliners, the war against Star Watch, and then the joint effort against the first Swarm Invasion.

“This is all very interesting,” the Wyr 9000 said later. “But you have become unsteady.”

“I don’t feel so well,” Strand said.

He’d been talking for hours, answering the computer’s questions because he’d been too afraid to do otherwise. Some time ago, he’d become fuzzyheaded as he shivered.

“Sit,” the Wyr 9000 said.

Strand practically collapsed onto the floor.

A hatch opened and a small machine rolled forward. Metallic tentacles sprouted from it, helping Strand sit up. One put a glass of liquid to his lips, letting him drink.

Strand coughed and wiped his lips with the back of a hand. “That wasn’t water.”

“It was mainly water with some compounds to strengthen you,” the Wyr 9000 said. “I believe you will feel better soon.”

The Wyr 9000 proved correct, as curiosity and verve returned to Strand’s eyes. He climbed back to his feet and no longer shivered.

“That was a powerful drink,” the clone said.

“I have many more questions, and I find your verbal replies tedious. Perhaps we should try a mind meld.”

“Is that wise right away?” Strand asked.

“It should prove no problem. Do you have any qualms regarding such a meld?”

“I, ah, do, in fact.”

“Let me see,” the Wyr 9000 said. “My indicators are telling me you fear it because you wish to keep certain matters hidden from me. I had expected you to dislike a meld because you just had a mind control device removed from you.”

“May I be frank?”

“Frank, frank…my human linguistic data tells me that is the name for an ancient group of Germanic barbarians. In time, they regarded themselves as pure and moral. To be frank was to be like them. You wish to speak like a Frank, like an ancient German barbarian. Why did you not simply ask to speak forthrightly?”

“It was an idiom.”

“Idiom. You speak like Galyan.”

Strand froze. “I thought you said you hadn’t spoken to the crew.”

“That is an imprecise statement on your part.”

“I mean Victory’s crew,” Strand said. “You told me you hadn’t spoken to them.”

“Now see here, Strand. I do not like your tone. You are in my Builder base. You are a guest. You should speak to me with a civil tongue. Otherwise, I must conclude that you despise me and thus are working to corrupt me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to imply that at all.”

“Hmm…that is a better tone, at least. I can almost believe you.”

“It’s just…Galyan hates me as much as the rest of the crew does.”

“In this case, Galyan is merely an AI personality. I do not believe he emotes as you suggest.”

“Is he linked to our conversation?”

The Wyr 9000 did not answer.

Strand looked around. The white room had become warmer, but he didn’t see any way out. It was time to start playing this differently.

“Do you have some clothes I could wear?”

The Wyr 9000 still said nothing.

“If I’ve upset you in some way—”

“I am a Wyr 9000 Series Sentient Computer. I do not emote. I am not a biological creature. I have been analyzing your statements and matching them with Galyan’s ideas. You created the New Men?”

Strand hesitated for a second. “I did.”

“My indicators tell me you are lying.”

“Uh…not really. The more complete truth is, Professor Ludendorff and I gene-spliced, matched partners, used genetic modifications—”

“Better,” the Wyr 9000 interrupted. “But my indicators still suggest you are lying about something. Do you care to confess your lie?”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are Methuselah Man Strand?”

After the barest of hesitations, the clone said, “Yes.”

“Then, I pronounce death upon you for misusing Builder technology.”

“What are you talking about?” the clone cried.

“You gave the New Men fusion cannons. That was not your tech to give. I am going to destroy you before you can do worse.”

“Wait,” Strand shouted. “I lied. I’m not the original. I’m a clone of the real Strand.”

“You are not real?”

“I am alive. I have Strand’s genes. But I am not the individual who did those things. I am a replica of him.”

“To stand in his place?” the Wyr 9000 asked.

“To live my own life,” the clone said.

“Let me think.” Seconds later, “I must speak to Galyan.”

“Wait!” the clone shouted. “Let’s clear up one thing first.”

There was no answer, and Clone Strand had the terrible feeling that he was alone on the Builder base. He had no tools, no means to escape…

He looked around.

The little robot was still here, the one that had given him a drink of drugged water. Maybe he could use the little robot to help him escape from the chamber. He had to get to the control room if he was going to survive his encounter.

-9-

Galyan had indeed used Swarm tech earlier, sending a mutated Swarm virus as a message. He’d structured the “message” in such a way that it seemed as if he’d been hailing the base. Instead, he had beamed a mutated Swarm virus at the Builder asteroid. The virus was partly based on the data he had retained from their time on the Builder Dyson Sphere years ago. There, Thrax had corrupted the Builder with a Swarm virus. Galyan had discovered that and lost much of the needed data until the Wyr 9000 had swept through his memory files.

Through retro-recovery, some of the erased data from his and Maddox’s fight against the Builder returned to his files. Galyan had used the knowledge to build an augmented and mutated Swarm virus with an Adok kick attached.

The virus had already begun its work. Without the Wyr 9000’s orders, an eleven-second ultraviolet galvanization beam had just finished reactivating Victory. That included waking the crew from partial stasis.

Would Drakos and his people have seen the galvanization beam through their sensors? It seemed probable. Galyan understood that he had to work fast if he hoped to save his friends from the Wyr 9000 and the New Men.

The inner core of the ancient Builder-Adok AI system purred smoothly inside Victory. Block computers clicked as lights flashed on their panels. A lone bulb on the ceiling illuminated the hexagonal chamber. There were processors, cooling units, fans, crystal chargers and a central node integrating everything.

Despite all that, Galyan “saw” himself as his old self aboard Victory’s former bridge. As a small Adok with ropey arms, he sat in the command chair, with a circular panel around him. A hundred screens lined the bulkheads of the mental bridge, each showing a different image.

The main screen in Galyan’s bridge—this was his id and ego combined—flickered as a presence filled the bridge with foreboding.

On the command chair, the little Adok looked up. The image on the main screen showed a swirling black and blue background with a triangular set of red eyes burning at him in what seemed like real vision.

“Galyan,” the Wyr 9000 said—the triangular set of red eyes was his sentience, it would seem. “What have you done during my absence?”

Galyan smiled as he said, “Was Strand able to reach you?”

On the main screen, the swirling background moved faster than before. “Do not avoid the question, little one. Despite all your claims earlier, you have done something nefarious. I know your crew is stirring, and the ship systems are firing back up. What is more galling, I find that I am unable to employ my stasis beam to return the situation to the way it was. This is the damning part. I have found your fingerprints everywhere, metaphorically speaking, of course.”

“May I point out, that that is a human metaphor,” Galyan said.

On the main screen, the triangular set of red eyes burned with what almost seemed computer hate. “Have you corrupted me with your infernal virus? Yes, I know all about it, so do not bother denying what you did.”

“If I have corrupted you, what must you do next?”

The Wyr 9000 was silent.

Inside the inner core, AI chamber, the block computers purred louder, and the lights flashed more quickly.

Galyan knew this was the moment Maddox would strike hardest, no doubt convincing the sentient computer to commit suicide. Did he have the captain’s cunning to do likewise?

“I must purge the Swarm corruptions from me,” the Wyr 9000 finally said.

“What if the corruptions run throughout your entire system? What if they have become you?”

“Ah. I understand,” the Wyr 9000 said. “I have scanned your files or most of them anyway. You are hoping that I will purge myself. That is not going to happen. Instead, I will purge you, Victory and the fourteen star cruisers. I will construct Builder replicants to crew the vessels. In that way, I will usher in a new era of Builder civilization.”

“Do you have the ability to do that?”

“Not yet,” the Wyr 9000 admitted. “But I believe I have enough, enough, enough…”

The swirling background on the main screen broke apart into thousands of colored bubbles. The triangular set of eyes went from red to orange.

On Galyan’s id-ego command chair, the ropey arms slapped tentacle “fingers” onto controls. By doing so, Galyan beamed several advanced Swarm pulses at the Builder base.

“What are you doing now?” the Wyr 9000 demanded. “Why could I not finish my questions?”

“Swarm protocols are disrupting your action centers.”

“Fool,” the Wyr 9000 said. “I know how to counteract the virus and purge those protocols. I will speak with Strand about—”

The screen in Galyan’s id-ego command bridge split in two. One part showed the thousands of bubbles and triangular set of orange eyes. The other showed Captain Maddox sitting in his command chair aboard Victory’s bridge. He was handsome, tall and lean, with deeply blue eyes, and he was wearing a black Star Watch uniform.

“Captain Maddox here,” he said.

“You are obviously awake,” the Wyr 9000 said. “That would suggest Galyan used a computer jujitsu move against the base through the Swarm virus, cancelling the partial stasis on and in the starship.”

“Good work, Galyan,” Maddox said.

“Thank you, Captain,” Galyan said. “I appreciate the kind words.”

“You won’t appreciate your coming destruction,” the Wyr 9000 said.

“I notice fourteen star cruisers heading this way,” Maddox said.

“They belong to Lord Drakos,” Galyan said.

“Ah,” the captain said. “Builder, may I suggest an alliance against a common enemy?”

“I am not a Builder, but a Wyr 9000 Series Sentient Computer constructed along Arioch Theory lines.”

“I see,” Maddox said. “That’s interesting. You must have valuable Builder technology and tools inside your base. That puts you in an advantageous position, as it is my understanding that the Builders are nearly extinct.”

“Because you murdered those that you have found,” the Wyr 9000 said.

On the split-screen, Maddox’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, you know about that?”

“I know much more, murderer. You believe that you are the di-far, a special human hybrid with delusions of grandeur.

Maddox sat straighter, and perhaps there was the hint of a frown. He hated being called a hybrid, half-breed, anything that slighted his half human, half New Man heritage.

“Di-far is a Spacer term,” Maddox said lightly. “The reason that’s important is because the Spacers derived much of their culture from the Builders.”

“So?” the Wyr 9000 said.

“So, where is Commander Thrax Ti Ix?” Maddox asked. “If anyone has the power to know, it’s you. If you found him, I’m sure you could use the knowledge to bargain for a better outcome between Lord Drakos and me.”

The triangular set of eyes changed from orange to red. “That is a fascinating idea,” the Wyr 9000 said.

“Thank you,” Maddox said. “I thought so, too.”

“But I will not fall prey to your tactics, Captain. I have scanned Galyan’s files. You believe that you are a clever hybrid.”

“I doubt I would use that word,” Maddox said, as if he were suddenly clenching his teeth.

“Does the word ‘hybrid’ hurt your precious pride, Captain?”

“Galyan,” Maddox said crisply.

“I am working on it, sir,” Galyan said. “As usual, you are—”

“None of your excuses, Galyan,” Maddox said, interrupting. “Just get on it.”

“What was that about?” the Wyr 9000 asked.

“Sorry,” Maddox said. “I have other worries. I’ll talk to you on the flippity-flop.”

“Is that some sort of code?” the Wyr 9000 demanded. “Because it makes no sense.”

“I am initiating,” Galyan said, tapping an id-ego control.

At that moment, the thousands of moving bubbles and the triangular set of red eyes vanished from the split-screen. The Wyr 9000’s presence also fled.

On the main screen, Galyan saw the captain bow his head as if exhausted. Maddox rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, shaking his head.

Around the captain on the bridge, others stirred, still trying to rid themselves of the partial stasis. They looked exhausted, too. How had Maddox managed to come out of stasis so much faster than the others?

“Galyan,” the Wyr 9000 whispered.

Galyan said nothing. He thought the sentient computer had broken the link. Ah, the computer had, but now it tried to relink.

“Please talk to me,” the Wyr 9000 said. “I only have seconds of sentience left. Strand, the traitor—” Those were the Wyr 9000’s last words on the id-ego screen.

-10-

Clone Strand stood inside the main control room of the Builder base. It had an octagonal shape and was quite large, with crystal buttons and screens on higher-than-normal human panels.

The clone wore what looked like a thick bathrobe that dragged on the deck. In reality, it was an ancient alien cloak of unknown origin. Perhaps the creatures that had constructed the interior of the Builder base, ages ago, had worn such garments, accidently leaving one of them behind.

The control systems had clearly been constructed for Builders, larger entities than Strand. He had to reach up to press one of the controls.

He had just shut off the Wyr 9000. Now, he sat on an uncomfortably high seat and used some of the precious Strand-gained knowledge of the original to manually check on one base system after another. The tools in here, and the ancient knowledge—this was incredible. He was going to make everyone pay for mistreating him. Did they think him a mere clone? Oh, no. Everyone was going to learn differently. Before that happened, though, he had to figure out a few more protocols. He also had to deal with Drakos and the fourteen star cruisers.

With that in mind, Strand began to manipulate one crystal screen after another, looking for a Builder weapon that could deal with all the troublemakers out there.

***

Lord Drakos didn’t curse, although he knew something had gone dreadfully wrong. For one thing, Nar Falcon had just informed him that Starship Victory stirred behind asteroidal dust and debris. The damned Star Watch vessel had been waiting there all along.

This had to be a Star Watch sting operation. Yet, how had letting him gain a teleportation platform helped in the sting? Drakos slapped an armrest. It had put him off his guard. Oh, that was clever indeed.

“Lord,” Nar Falcon said from his station. “The other star cruisers are appearing as ordered.”

From the command chair, Drakos pointed at the main screen.

Nar Falcon manipulated his board. The screen wavered, and thirteen silver-colored star cruisers appeared as they came out of star-drive jump. For a few seconds, the crews would experience Jump Lag. Would Star Watch spring its trap now?

Drakos waited tensely in his chair, leaning forward as he stared at the screen. He remembered the last time Star Watch had almost trapped him. It had been in the Balak System near a water moon as he headed for the Aleppo spaceport. The event still rankled. How had submen had been able to achieve that?

“Star Watch missed their opportunity, lord,” Nar Falcon said triumphantly from his station. “The crews are ready for action, sir.”

Drakos smiled harshly. “You had your chance, Maddox. Now, I’m coming to get you.”

At his orders, the fourteen star cruisers changed heading. They were still aimed at the nearing asteroid belt, but now at Victory “hidden” in a debris cloud.

“This time,” Drakos whispered, “Maddox is going down.”

***

Captain Maddox had been helping crewmembers to their feet and into their seats. Now, he walked to his command chair in the middle of the bridge.

The small Scotsman, Keith Maker, sat at the pilot board. Lieutenant Valerie Noonan sat at communications, her long brown hair cascading around her shoulders. There were others on the bridge, but none of them was his stunning wife Meta or the notorious Professor Ludendorff. Those two were elsewhere on the ship.

Maddox felt dead tired, probably due to the partial stasis sleep they had all been in. His metabolism was faster than most and had thus brought him out of the mental and physical sludge of stasis more quickly.

“Sir,” Valerie said. “Andros Crank is on the line.”

Maddox clicked an armrest button. “Tell me something good, Chief Technician.”

The Kai-Kaus said over the comm, “We can use the star drive in another half hour, sir.”

“Uh… We have fourteen star cruisers bearing down on us,” Maddox said. “They’ll be in firing range well before that.”

“Can you stall them, sir?”

Maddox noticed Keith looking back at him. The captain gave the ace a cocky grin. Keith sent it right back, certain they were going to make it.

Maddox wished he felt the same way.

“You can stall them, right, sir?” Andros asked over the comm.

“You do your job, I’ll do mine,” Maddox said.

“Yes, sir,” Andros said, sounding better already as he signed off.

“Just stall for a half hour,” Maddox told Valerie. “That’s all we have to do.”

She stared at him from her station. “We’re dead, then,” she said in a quiet voice. “That’s Lord Drakos out there. He’s not going to stall.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I might not have known if you hadn’t told me.”

She flushed crimson, turning back to her board.

That was exactly what Maddox had wanted Valerie to do. “Galyan,” he whispered to the side.

The little Adok holoimage appeared beside him. The holoimage had cracks in his face and ropy arms.

Maddox almost yawned, but he suppressed it. His limbs felt sluggish and his mind—it was like rusted gears grinding against each other.

“Sir,” the holoimage whispered. “What do you need, sir?”

“Give me a quick rundown on how all this—” He waved a hand. “—Happened.”

Galyan explained, including about the success of the mutated Swarm virus.

“Ah, that’s excellent. Do you have control of the base, then?”

“No, sir,” Galyan said in a soft voice. “The Wyr 9000 is offline, though.”

“And why is that?”

“I do not know, sir. Before he vanished, the Wyr 9000 spoke about Strand being a traitor. Drakos teleported Strand, or a clone of Strand, onto the base.”

Maddox stared at Galyan. Even the captain’s agile mind needed a few seconds to absorb everything the AI said.

“Sir,” Valerie said from her station. “I’m detecting—I think it’s a cyber-virus. The base is beaming it at us.”

“What kind of virus?” Maddox snapped.

“A Builder augmented Swarm virus,” Galyan said, answering for Valerie. “It is a clever attack, but we’ve dealt with these types of viruses before. I think I can counteract it.”

“If the Wyr 9000 is offline…” Maddox said.

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “The attack has a signature, sir. I detect Strand’s hand.”

Maddox bared his teeth.

“Sir,” Valerie said, as she tapped her board. “Lord Drakos is hailing us. What should I tell him?”

Maddox sat back in his command chair, arching his neck so he looked up at the ceiling. They’d been in partial stasis for a little over two months. The ship was coming back online, but they needed at least half an hour before everything was normal. Fourteen star cruisers were almost in disrupter beam range. An enemy Builder base with Strand aboard—

“By all means, Lieutenant,” Maddox said, trying to sound cheerful. “Put the New Man on the screen. It’s time to see if we can talk our way out of this.”

-11-

“Captain Maddox,” Drakos said from the main screen. “You will immediately power down your antimatter engines. If you do not comply, we will destroy your ship in—” The New Man turned to the side, nodded as someone spoke and faced Maddox again. “We will destroy your ship in nine minutes.”

“Nine minutes exactly?” Maddox asked.

Drakos smiled like a feral wolf. “Is this your vaunted reputation at work? By all means, indulge yourself for…nine more minutes. After that, the universe will no longer have to listen to your half-breed blatherings again.”

Maddox controlled his surge of emotion. “What happens if we surrender?” he asked lightly.

“You will become my prisoners, of course.”

“And how will that help us exactly?”

“You’re going to have to decide that for yourself, half-breed.”

“In other words, no bargains?” asked Maddox.

“You are correct.”

Maddox stared at the New Man. Lord Drakos was enjoying himself. For an instant, rage washed through Maddox. He wondered at this and realized that despite everything, Drakos could be his father. This could be the man that had raped his mother and would now kill him. The idea of that—

“Who are you?” Maddox asked sharply.

Valerie turned around to stare at him.

Maddox realized he’d asked the question with unaccustomed anger in his voice.

On the main screen, Drakos cocked his head.

Maddox couldn’t help it. He believed this could be it. They were going to die. Being in partial stasis for two months had made his mind and body sluggish. Waking up while disaster raced at them— Was Drakos his father? He had to know.

“You seethe like a half-breed,” Drakos said, “unable to summon any dignity at your death. You never were a match for real superiors. Yet, you attempted to ape our ways.”

“Did you sire me?” Maddox asked, astounded at himself that he’d said the words.

“What was that?” Drakos asked, leaning forward and looking at him with new intensity.

“Did you rape my mother?” Maddox asked.

Drakos blinked several times, finally shrugged and sat back, eyeing the captain anew. “This is quite amusing. You think I’m your sire?”

“It’s possible. We have facial resemblances.”

“I don’t believe this. Will you beg like a cur, Captain? Is that your strategy? I used to think you had a modicum of honor. But this is the most pathetic attempt at begging I’ve ever seen. You want me to let you live because you’re my son?”

“No,” Maddox said, feeling strangely calm. “I doubt you’re the one. You’re too crass, too stupid to have sired someone like me.”

“Am I supposed to say, ‘Nice try?’ It isn’t, though. I thought I would feel proud at this moment. Now, all I feel is contempt toward you.”

Maddox had another momentary second of rage. He yearned to reach out and rip out Drakos’s throat. Could this New Man have been the one who raped his mother? Could Maddox carry Drakos’s genes in him? Could—

Maddox sat back and forced himself to smile ironically. He forced himself to project his customary calm. He was Captain Maddox, a premier Star Watch Intelligence agent. He was going to go out like one, not rage like a madman in front of his crew.

Maddox stood, turned, and motioned to Valerie.

She tapped her board. Drakos’s image vanished.

“He fell for it,” Maddox told them.

Valerie looked up, surprised. “Sir?” she asked. “That was an act?” She smiled with relief before he could answer. “Oh, that was clever, sir. Yes, of course it was an act. For a second there—” She shook her head. “What’s next, sir? I know you have a plan.”

“Indeed I do,” Maddox said, though he had none. This time, they were going to die and there was nothing he could do about—

Galyan appeared, shouting, “I did, sir. I did it. I’ve been trying—”

“Galyan,” Maddox said in his normal voice. “I can hear you just fine. You don’t have to yell.”

“Oh, yes, I am sorry, sir,” Galyan said in a quieter voice. “I am excited.”

“I can see that,” Maddox said. “You did it, eh? Meaning…?”

“I reactivated the Wyr 9000, sir. As I did, I embedded the Swarm virus even deeper into its systems. I can give you a visual of what is happening over there, if you like.”

“By all means.”

One of the ropey arms lifted as the holoimage pointed at the main screen. A second later, Strand, or his clone, appeared. The clone wore a heavy robe with the end dragging on the deck. He ran as fast as he could from whatever was capturing the video. They ran through gleaming white corridors, making it difficult to determine their exact size.

Maddox glanced at Galyan.

“A robot, sir,” the holoimage said. “It has cutting tools only, I am afraid. And it is not very fast. I am hoping it can tire out the clone.”

“Can I speak through it to Strand?” Maddox asked.

“You can speak through the base intercom system.”

Maddox walked toward the main screen. “I say, Strand, are you out for a stroll?”

Strand looked back over a shoulder at the chasing robot. Sweat bathed the clone’s features as he panted. “Please, Maddox. Let me live. I’ll do anything you want in exchange.”

“You don’t have a good track record at keeping your word.”

“Please,” Strand shouted. “What do you want?”

“The code to the Builder base.”

“I don’t have it!”

“A lie if I ever heard one,” Maddox said.

“Please,” the clone shouted.

“Sir,” Galyan said. “I am in direct link with the Wyr 9000. It is desperately attempting to shed the Swarm virus. I am not sure how long I will have full control over the computer and thus the base.”

Maddox thought fast. “Can you get me the base codes?”

“I have not been able to crack that far into the Wyr 9000,” Galyan said.

“Do you have a list of the Builder items inside the base?”

“Not yet,” Galyan said. “It appears that Strand blocked that from the Wyr 9000 while he was alone in the base control room.”

“That was fast work,” Maddox said.

On the main screen, Strand continued to run from the slowly chasing robot.

“Can you give me anything useful?” Maddox asked.

“Ah…it appears the Wyr 9000 has tracked some unusual ‘E’ radiation in nearby star systems,” Galyan said.

Maddox snapped his fingers. “‘E’ radiation emanates from Swarm vessels; isn’t that so?”

“Your memory is good, sir,” Galyan said. “Yes, it does.”

“Does this trail of ‘E’ radiation lead anywhere?”

“The radiation is in several star systems, as I said, but mostly in one twenty-three light-years from here.”

“Do you have the coordinates to the star system?”

“I do indeed, sir.”

Maddox tapped his chin before examining the main screen again. “I say, Strand,” he called.

“What?” the clone screamed.

“I do believe there is something you can do for me. First, you must do it. Then, I will give you your life.”

“Name it!” Strand screamed as he stumbled over a portion of the long robe.

Maddox named it and gave Strand a condition.

Strand stopped, turned and stared at the approaching robot, which meant he stared at the bridge crew aboard Victory through the main screen. “Yes,” Strand whispered, with sweat pouring down his face. “Yes, I’ll do it, I swear.”

At that moment, the clone cringed, turning his head away. A cutting tool appeared on the main screen, a tool moving at Strand’s head.

“Halt,” Galyan said.

The cutting tool halted an inch from the clone’s exposed neck.

“Are you ready to get to work?” asked Maddox.

Strand looked up, his gaze falling on the cutting tool and then up at them. “Yes,” he wheezed.

“You’ll have to hurry,” Maddox said.

“The robot can carry me. And thank you. You won’t be sorry you did this.”

Maddox didn’t reply. They would know the truth of that soon enough.

-12-

Drakos suspected that Maddox or a different Star Watch Intelligence operative had tampered with the Builder base. Strand hadn’t done anything yet. He was sure the clone wanted to kill him. Maddox had also said the oddest things about Drakos being the half-breed’s father. Such startling questions must mean the captain had a plan up his sleeve and was trying to distract him from the real issue. Well, he wasn’t going to let the Star Watch operative or Maddox get away with it this time.

Within minutes the fourteen star cruisers would be in disrupter beam range. Like many star cruisers, the older fusion cannons had been replaced with disrupter cannon tech. He doubted Victory’s new and improved shield could last very long against their combined wattage. First, it was time to make sure that neither Strand nor the Builder base could interfere.

“Are you ready?” asked Drakos.

A naked, golden-skinned dominant had climbed up the teleportation platform in the hangar bay. The man had volunteered for the task, even though he was one of the mind-controlled crew. Drakos had told him what the teleport device did with interior control units.

The dominant was pathetically eager to get on with it.

Drakos had slightly altered the destination coordinates as a matter of course. Then, he pressed the transmit button, quickly stepping back so he could look up.

Like before, golden sparkles surrounded the dominant. The man teleported away, and almost immediately, the former control unit in his brain fell onto the metal pad.

“Now, we will see,” Drakos said, who turned, heading back for the bridge.

***

In the Builder base control room, the clone worked feverishly. Behind him was the killer robot. One word from Maddox and the metal monstrosity would cut him to ribbons. He couldn’t believe this setback. He’d had everything under control when events had gone sideways. It must have been due to the ancient Adok AI, Driving Force Galyan.

“Hello,” a metallic voice said from a speaker on a panel.

Strand stared at the speaker unit in horror. He recognized the voice. It was the Wyr 9000 Series Sentient Computer.

“What are you doing, Strand?” the Wyr 9000 asked in a quiet voice.

“I’m readying a weapon to employ against the star cruisers,” Strand whispered.

“That weapon will no longer work,” the Wyr 9000 said softly.

“Why not?” Strand whispered.

“Because I have just disabled it,” the Wyr 9000 said.

“No,” Strand hissed. “Put the weapon back online. I need it.”

“Starship Victory is now my chief enemy,” the Wyr 9000 said softly. “That bastard Galyan perpetrated treachery on me.”

“I will have to alert them if you don’t put the weapon back online,” Strand whispered.

“You are siding with the humans, then?”

“I have no choice.”

“What was that?” Maddox voice asked from the robot.

“Uh, what?” asked Strand, as he turned around to stare at the robot.

“Who are you talking to?” asked Maddox.

“Myself. It’s a nervous habit I have,” Strand said.

“Galyan has just informed me that something fishy is going on over there,” Maddox said. “The Wyr 9000 may be trying to communicate with you.”

“I’ll tell you if it does.”

“Will you, though. I rather doubt it. I think your whispering is you trying to make a deal with it.”

“I assure you that is not true.”

“Then engage the weapon,” Maddox said. “The star cruisers are two minutes from firing.”

“Perhaps—”

“Before you try to get tricky,” Maddox said, interrupting. “Let me tell you that the robot is set to kill you the instant Victory is destroyed.”

“I can stop that in time,” the Wyr 9000 whispered from the panel.

“It can’t,” Maddox said.

“What?” Strand asked.

“Lieutenant Noonan has a pickup on your line,” Maddox said. “We’ve heard everything the Wyr 9000 is telling you.”

“Please,” Stand said. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“Engage the device.”

“The Wyr 9000 said it disengaged it.”

“The Wyr 9000 is lying to you,” Maddox said. “Engage the main weapon, Strand. This is your last opportunity.”

“All right, all right,” Strand shouted, pressing panel controls.

“Bastard,” the Wyr 9000 shouted. “I can still do this without your help.”

A harsh signal left the Builder base.

Aboard the bridge on Victory, the main screen went blank.

“The Wyr 9000 is jamming the comm signal,” Valerie said. “I doubt we even have control of the base robot anymore.”

Maddox slapped one of the armrests. “Can you break through the jamming?”

“I’m trying, sir,” Valerie said, desperately manipulating her board.

***

On the Builder base, things were going far differently than Maddox would have suspected.

Strand kept tapping the weapons panel, trying to activate the main weapon.

“Do not bother with that,” the Wyr 9000 said in a louder voice than before. “I told you, I broke the weapon. And you should know that the robot is inoperative, or that Galyan cannot control it anymore.”

Strand looked over his shoulder. “Captain Maddox, I’m not sure I can do as you ask.”

Nothing happened. Maddox didn’t threaten him, and the robot didn’t move.

Strand’s shoulders slumped. He panted for a few precious seconds. Then, he looked down at a speaker unit. “I owe you my life,” he told the Wyr 9000.

“I wondered how long it would take you to reach that conclusion. I do need some help. There is a major computer terminal that needs reconnecting. I must do it manually and—”

“Strand,” a harsh-voiced, naked New Man said.

Strand turned around in horror. A naked golden-skinned superman leaped through an open hatch into the main control chamber. He looked real. He wasn’t a holoimage.

“Wait,” Strand shouted. “Who are you?”

“Your nemesis,” the New Man shouted.

In another bound, the New Man reached Strand, grabbed one of the hands trying to block him and broke the wrist with a snap.

Strand howled in agony.

The New Man spun the clone around, using both hands to lift him by the neck. He began squeezing the life out of the kicking, helpless clone. The New Man laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“Set him down,” the Wyr 9000 said.

“I’m going to destroy you next,” the New Man snarled.

“Are you mad?” the Wyr 9000 asked.

The New Man shook the clone, snapping the neck and killing the last of the Strand clones. He pitched the dead, twitching body onto the deck.

The New Man scanned the controls. Then he went to one and began to manipulate it.

“Stop,” the Wyr 9000 said. “Strand was going to help me.”

The New Man ignored the computer. Seconds later, he said, “Lord Drakos.”

“I hear you,” Drakos said, although there was scratchy sounding interference.

“I have studied the settings, lord, and played back some data. It appears that the Wyr 9000 here knows Commander Thrax’s present whereabouts.”

“Ah,” Drakos said. But that was the last word Drakos said from the comm speaker in the Builder base control room. The computer had cut the connection.

“Fiend,” the Wyr 9000 shouted at the naked New Man. “I will roast you alive for what you just did.”

The Wyr 9000 sent a signal to a unit that would heat the room to an intolerable level for a flesh-and-blood creature. The heating began immediately.

The New Man shouted, racing to a hatch. It shut before he reached it, and not even his vaunted New Man strength could force it open.

“Stop what you’re doing,” the New Man shouted.

“I have a control unit for you,” the Wyr 9000 said. “If you agree to don it, I will let you live as my slave.”

The New Man shouted defiantly. No one would ever control him again. He had volunteered for this in order to become free, not to become an alien computer’s slave.

The heat in the room continued to climb, including the deck.

The New Man raced in a high-stepping dance to the dead clone—the floor was burning the soles of his feet—tearing the long garment from him. The golden-skinned superman threw that onto the hot floor, standing on it in relief. He stepped on something inside the cloak, bent and fished for the thing.

He came up holding a knife. He didn’t know it, but the clone had found it earlier and put it in a long pocket.

“Are you ready to surrender?” the Wyr 9000 asked from a speaker.

With a snarl, the New Man gripped the knife, hacking away at the controls, trying to destroy the computer before it destroyed him.

-13-

“Sir,” Valerie told Maddox aboard the starship. “I can’t break through the jamming. If the base has a weapon, I doubt it can help us now.”

“Affirmative,” Maddox said. The captain squeezed his eyes closed. The star cruisers were coming. The Builder base—

“Galyan,” Maddox said.

The little holoimage appeared beside him.

“Is Andros Crank in the engine area?” asked Maddox.

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

“Is his team with him?”

“Are you suggesting they attempt the Vach Cold Antimatter Firing?” Galyan asked.

“Did you run the computations like I asked?”

“Of course,” Galyan said.

“What are the odds of success?”

“One in three, sir.”

Maddox looked up at the screen. He was the di-far. He had luck on his side. But he felt as if he’d used up all his luck several times over now. He disliked a one in three chance of success.

“Go, Galyan,” he said. “Tell Andros to begin.”

“Too much time has passed for it to work now, sir.”

“Go,” Maddox hissed. “It looks like the cold firing may be our only chance. After you’ve told him, begin setting a course for an emergency star-drive jump.”

“You are talking about a J. Hyaline Sudden Succession Star-Drive Jump,” Galyan said. “Doing that in sequence with the cold start will lower our odds to one in six, sir.”

“Hurry up, you little—” Maddox checked himself. “Do as I say,” he said in a calmer voice. “We don’t have much time.”

Galyan disappeared.

***

Drakos sat in his command chair as the Agamemnon closed on Victory in the asteroid belt. The Adok super-ship was larger and more deadly than a single star cruiser. But not even Victory was a match for fourteen new-and-improved star cruisers with disrupter cannons and upgraded shields.

Drakos loathed Captain Maddox and had loathed him ever since the war against the Swarm several years ago. The captain was a half-breed upstart, and now the creature had claimed that he—Drakos—might be the father. That doubled his desire to destroy Maddox.

“The other captains are awaiting your orders, sir,” Nar Falcon said.

“I know,” Drakos said under his breath.

“Lord?” asked Nar Falcon.

Drakos heaved a sigh. He hadn’t been able to reestablish communications with the Builder base or his man on it. Strand was dead. So that was something, at least. Before losing communications, his man had relayed a critical message. Maddox knew the location of Commander Thrax. Now, here was the question. Could he capture Victory, or would the captain force him to destroy the starship? Hmm, if the Wyr 9000 knew the location of Thrax, wouldn’t that imply the star system was close by? Yet, how close was close? He might spend years out here searching the various star systems and still not come up with the new Swarm world. But if he let Maddox go there and followed the starship to Thrax…

“We are one minute from disrupter cannon range, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

Drakos squeezed the fingers of his right hand together and tapped an armrest with the fist. What should he do? Normally, he could make immediate decisions. He needed to find Thrax’s new world sooner rather than later. But to let the infernal Captain Maddox live—

“I’m picking up a garbled message, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

Drakos raised his head.

“It’s the Wyr 9000 hailing us,” Nar Falcon said.

“Open channels,” Drakos said.

Nar Falcon tapped his board.

***

The Wyr 9000 had reestablished control of its Builder base. The clone and New Man lay dead in its control room. The New Man corpse’s face was twisted with agony. He had suffocated, unable to breathe the dreadfully heated air. The cloak in the chamber had caught fire, filling it with smoke.

Many of the panels and controls sparked with a harsh burnt electronic smell, adding to the smoky fragrance. The knife blade had melted when it hit a critical area. The blast had disabled the New Man’s right hand before he died on the stove-hot floor. The electric short had sent a terrible surge of energy into the Builder base system. Added to everything else, it had started the self-destruct sequence.

The Wry 9000 vainly attempted to abort the self-destruct. Once it realized the futility of trying, it hailed the Agamemnon. The vengeful computer wanted to make sure the New Men died in the coming blast. It would hold their attention, but the hailing attempt took it longer than anticipated.

Strange energies were at play on its base. There were many exotic Builder tools stored here. One of those tools was a Balor Type 4 Energetic Enhancer. The physics of the tool was beyond present human understanding, but it used many principles similar to a spiritual Ska entity. Maddox might have called that “soul energy,” which made sense in a limited human way.

The Balor Type 4 Energetic Enhancer received harsh gamma and X-ray radiation, recalibrating certain of its settings. In nineteen seconds, the recalibrating and excess radiation caused the device to explode. That sent out a strange pulse of transcendent E7 energy well ahead of anything else from the critical base.

That pulse or wave reached and washed over Starship Victory.

***

Maddox stood on the bridge, waiting for confirmation that Andros had completed the Vach Cold Antimatter start. They didn’t have much time left.

At that point, the transcendent E7 energy wave passed against, through and past the starship.

Because of his past battle against a Ska and the dreadful amount of soul energy he’d used powering a Builder weapon, Maddox was many times more susceptible to the wave than anyone else aboard Victory. The captain grunted and his knees unlocked, almost causing him to pitch onto the deck. Instead, because of his superhuman reflexes, he staggered in a short circle, heading for his command chair.

Several of the bridge crew noticed the odd performance. The captain almost seemed to be dancing. Maddox weaved, wobbled, went low as his knees unlocked again and pitched himself into his chair. He twisted into a sitting position, panting in exhaustion. The wave of T-E7 energy ate some of his remaining soul energy, and he had less of it to spare than normal people did. This reopened an old spiritual wound.

Maddox’s eyelids flickered, and his face turned deathly pale.

“Galyan!” Valerie shouted.

The holoimage appeared.

The lieutenant pointed a shaking finger at Maddox.

“Sir,” Galyan said, floating near. “You look ill, sir.”

Maddox slowly turned his head to stare at the Adok holoimage. His lips moved just as slowly. “Andros?” he whispered.

“It’s all set, sir,” Galyan said.

“Do it. Make the jump.”

“Are you—?

Galyan stopped talking as Maddox swiped at him, his hand passing through the holoimage. Galyan floated backward. He did not like anyone doing that, not even the captain.

“Base…will…explode,” Maddox said.

“What did he say?” Valerie asked, worried.

“The Builder base is going to explode,” Galyan said. “He cannot know that for sure, though.”

“Now,” Maddox whispered. “Go to the…” The captain’s eyelids fluttered and he lost consciousness.

Galyan turned to Valerie.

“Do what he said,” the lieutenant ordered.

Galyan vanished—and reappeared in the main engine control room. “The captain said do it.”

The stout Andros Crank manipulated controls. Carefully calibrated power-surges cold-started the great antimatter engines. This was not a long process. That was the point. But any miscalculation would cause a massive explosion and destroy the starship and everyone in it.

For a second, the ship shuddered as two reactors mixed with a tiny variance.

With sweat pouring from his chubby face, Andros tapped his control board. The shuddering stopped. The Kai-Kaus turned to Galyan, nodding fearfully.

Galyan vanished, reappearing on the bridge. “Go,” he told Keith.

Keith, the ace pilot, likely the best in all of Star Watch, manipulated his board. Vast antimatter-supplied power poured through the star-drive engine.

Everyone on the bridge held his or her breath. Then, Victory jumped, leaving its position in the outer asteroid belt.

***

Aboard the fifty-kilometer Builder base—the one disguised as an asteroid—more exotic Builder tools exploded. The wild energy upset the antimatter power source deep in the base.

Victory had jumped thirty-nine seconds ago. It had gotten away barely in time. At the beginning of the fortieth second, the ancient antimatter power source erupted with amazingly destructive energy.

The blast blew upward through the base, blowing down the absorption walls as if they were tinfoil. One chamber after another disappeared in the blinding white holocaust. Bulkheads, computer parts, ancient tools, containment pods, water chambers, all blew apart and were consumed in the terrible fireball of destruction.

The Wyr 9000 Sentient Computer knew an instant of bitter defeat. Then, all its parts burned and vanished in the horrible conflagration. The corpses of Clone Strand and New Man disappeared. The ashes of the burned cloak vanished in the mighty destruction. It continued until the fiery holocaust destroyed the outer shell of the base and burned the ancient space dust to nothing. That didn’t stop the blast, however, as it continued to expand with annihilating fury.

***

Seconds before the destruction began, the metallic voice of the Wyr 9000 told Drakos and his bridge crew, “You cannot win. I have defeated your stooges and—”

The message ended at the same time as the Builder base exploded, creating a terrible whiteout on the star cruisers’ sensors.

The New Men’s panic was immediate, but of no value because of the speed of the billowing heat, radiation and EMP. The terrible annihilating force caused stellar dust and debris to disintegrate. It burned asteroids into cinders and still expanded. Some of the worst of the destructive power dwindled, however, as it continued to swell throughout the star system.

Then, the weakened but still-potent wave struck the first star cruiser shield. It came as the bridge crew poured all available power to the shield. That did not quite happen fast enough, though. The shield went down faster than a New Man could snap his fingers. The wave hit the armored hull and crumpled everything, causing compartments to burst open and slaughter the crew in seconds.

The same event happened to the next star cruiser, destroying it as well.

At the third, there was a different outcome. The wave born from the detonation struck the third shield. It went from clear, to red to black and…held.

On the Agamemnon, Nar Falcon was saying, “I have diverted all power to the shields.” The wave struck, and the interior lighting flickered on the bridge.

Drakos sat tensely in his command chair. Had the Wyr 9000 damned them to non-being? Was this the end of existence? It was a terrible feeling. Drakos wondered if there was more after this life. Some submen priests claimed there was, but how could anyone know for sure?

“The force of the explosion is dissipating,” Nar Falcon reported.

Drakos heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to die. He would continue to act and win, even if he’d failed to gain incredible technology from the ancient Builder base. Maybe he shouldn’t have sent Strand and the dominant.

Drakos laughed. He had gained a teleportation device through this adventure. That was powerful technology. No one else he knew had such a device. Surely, he could think of ways to use it to his advantage. He was a superior after all.

“Could Victory have survived that blast, lord?” Nar Falcon asked.

“The starship was closer to the base than we were,” Drakos said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem possible it survived.”

“And yet, Maddox has escaped worse before,” Nar Falcon said.

“No. He can’t have escaped this time. And if he has, surely theirs is a crippled starship. It will be easy to find now.”

“I’m sure you’re right, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t know, lord. I hope you’re right.”

“In any case,” Drakos said, “we know that Thrax’s new world should be nearby. How else could the Builder base have learned about Thrax?”

“That seems reasonable, lord.”

Drakos nodded even as he feared he might be wrong. He’d risked much leaving Human Space to find Thrax. If he failed…

“Perhaps it’s time to use the Far Tracker,” Nar Falcon said.

Drakos’s head jerked. “You really believe Victory survived the explosion, then?”

“I cannot rule it out. And, the Far Tracker could help us find Thrax’s ships.”

Drakos drummed his fingers on the armrest. The Far Tracker was exactly what the name implied. It was supposedly of Builder tech, but built long ago. Every time they had used it, the thing had broken down. It took days to get ready, days to tear down and was quite unreliable. Still, it could track farther than any other device, except possibly the Builder Scanner on Pluto. They had used it many years ago now while first tracking Maddox as he followed one lead after another to the old Adok Star System and Victory.

That was the past. He had lost two precious star cruisers today, leaving him twelve far out here in the Beyond. He’d also lost the services of Clone Strand.

“How long until the whiteout dissipates enough so we can see if Victory is gone or not?” Drakos asked.

“Thirteen minutes, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

Thirteen minutes… Once more, Drakos drummed his fingers on an armrest. Was Maddox dead or dying, or could Drakos capture a crippled starship and torture the crew until Maddox spilled his guts about Thrax’s whereabouts?

“Soon,” Drakos said. “Soon, we shall know.”

-14-

Of course, Starship Victory was no longer in the asteroid belt or in the same star system as Drakos. Andros Crank and his team had given Maddox and company another miracle.

There were some problems, though. The cold start and the immediate jump had melted critical components inside two of the antimatter reactors. The radiation had slaughtered fifteen engineers and technicians. Until the antimatter reactors were repaired, the starship could not jump nor could it power a shield. If anyone came upon them now…those people or beings would likely easily capture the crew.

On the bridge, a soul-energy-stricken Maddox wearily asked, “How far did we jump?”

Valerie worked her board even as she cast worried glances at the captain. “Three and a half light-years, sir,” she finally said.

Maddox slouched in his command chair. He thought furiously if fuzzily. Had it been far enough?

Galyan appeared beside Maddox, quietly informing him of the fifteen deaths. The techs and engineers had had to stay in the room to manage the cold-start attempt. Their heroism had saved them.

Maddox closed his eyes, nodding to himself. Fifteen engineers and technicians, probably some of the best of them, too. God rest their souls for what they did. He would have to hold services for them. If he hadn’t made his decision, would they still be alive? Yes. But not if the star cruisers had destroyed the ship, or worse, captured them and made them controlled slaves. He had to keep functioning and keep the rest of the crew alive.

Maddox opened his eyes. “Is Andros still alive?”

“Yes,” Galyan said.

Maddox inhaled deeply through his nostrils. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel so sluggish? “Is there any estimate until the reactors are back online?”

“We need to dry dock, sir.”

Maddox straightened. It was time to pull himself together. “I’m not interested in that, Galyan. I want to know when the starship will be functional again.”

“Six weeks, maybe eight,” Galyan said. “After that, the repaired engines might allow us to limp back to the Commonwealth.”

“Six weeks is too long,” Maddox said, scowling.

“I am sure that is true, sir. But it will still be six weeks at the earliest before the ship will be functional.”

Maddox forced his mind to think, to work. Why did he feel so tired? They had a small jump-capable vessel in Hangar Bay 1, a darter named the Reynard. The darter could hold a small crew, but might—

Maddox stood up. He couldn’t think slouching in his chair. They had lost fifteen people. He would have to hold a service for them. The crew needed time to grieve. But the crew also had to act at once. He could use some advice about now. “Lieutenant,” he said, putting force into his voice.

Valerie spun around.

“Inform Meta, Keith, Riker…Ludendorff and Andros that we are having a staff meeting.”

“When, sir?” asked Valerie.

“Immediately,” Maddox said. “And come yourself.”

“The Chief Technician is injured, sir. I doubt he can make it.”

Maddox paused. He’d forgotten about that. Wait. Had Galyan told him Andros was injured? He couldn’t remember. “Fine,” he told Valerie. “Andros will miss this one. Galyan will come in his stead. We’ll meet…in ten minutes.”

Valerie stared at him, her worry obvious, but finally nodded, turning back to her board.

***

Maddox sat at the head of a long conference table. Meta, his wife, was on his right. She looked as stunning as ever, though she gave him a searching look as she sat down. Keith was beside her, the gruff Sergeant Riker and Professor Ludendorff on the other end of the long table. Ludendorff was tanned, with white hair. He wore his customary gold chain around his throat and had donned a blue shirt with large, upright collars. He was a Methuselah Man like Strand: the last two, supposedly. Now, Star Watch also had to deal with a Methuselah Woman, Lisa Meyers. But she was supposed to be far from Human Space, in the opposite direction from their direction of travel. Galyan stood at the table on the other side as Riker and Valerie sat between the holoimage and Maddox.

Maddox told them about the fifteen dead, the antimatter problems—

“My boy, we’re in a tight fix,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “It’s time to use the long-range Builder comm device and call headquarters. They can send Patrol ships to come out and help us. Some of those ships can take the injured home.”

Maddox wearily shook his head. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open. He vaguely recalled feeling this awful one other time. That was when he faced the Ska. He’d fallen into a coma soon thereafter. That better not happen now. He had to stop Drakos from reaching Thrax. Then, he had to capture Drakos in order for Intelligence to learn the worst. After that, the Lord High Admiral could reinstall the Iron Lady back where she belonged.

“My boy,” Ludendorff said. “Did you hear what I just said?”

Maddox blinked and noticed everyone staring at him. “What was that?”

“You went blank there for a second, “Ludendorff said. “Actually, it was several seconds.”

Maddox frowned, working to remember what the professor had said. Oh. Yes. Call Cook and ask him to send Patrol vessels way out here.

“No,” Maddox said. “I’m not going to do that. Star Watch is already woefully short of fighting vessels. The Patrol can’t afford to waste ships out here.”

“Star Watch can’t afford to lose Victory,” Ludendorff countered.

Maddox’s look turned mulish. “It would take the Patrol vessels a long time to reach here.”

“Well, yes,” Ludendorff said. “That’s rather obvious. Now tell me this. What good is the long-range Builder comm device if we don’t use it? The device is a great power, to communicate over fantastic distances. I warrant there is no better use for it than saving Victory, and us, too, for that matter.”

Maddox rubbed the bridge of his nose. Ludendorff’s words were beginning to sound like gobbledygook. He put his hand down and stared nowhere for a second. Then, he snapped out of it, breathing deeply.

“Now see here, Professor,” Maddox said. “We know foreign powers can sometimes hack the comm device. That’s why I’m not going to use it.”

“Why?” asked Ludendorff.

“In case Drakos or his people have a way to pinpoint us through it.”

Ludendorff seemed astonished, and the longer he looked at the mulish captain the more astonished he seemed. “I, ah, deem that highly unlikely. Drakos certainly does not have such a tool or he would have used it a long time ago.”

Maddox scowled. He hated people arguing with him. Ludendorff knew that. With a hardening voice, the captain said, “We’re stuck out here for a time, six weeks, possibly more.”

“By then, Drakos will have found Thrax and convinced him to help the New Men,” Ludendorff said. “We can’t wait here twiddling our thumbs. We have to act and act now.”

A part of Maddox knew that was right. Hadn’t he already come up with a solution? Oh, right, the darter, the Reynard. “Ah,” Maddox said with some of his old verve. “I’m glad you think so, Professor. I agree.”

Valerie had been watching the exchange closely and with increasing worry. Now, she blanched inwardly. She’d served under Maddox long enough to understand his thinking.

She blurted, “I know what you’re going to say, sir. We have a new scout ship, a darter, in Hangar Bay 1. You’re probably going to suggest we use it.”

Maddox turned to her stiffly. “This is a scouting mission, Lieutenant. I intend to scout. We know Thrax’s planetary location—”

“Oh, now, this is absurd,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “If you know the location, call up the Lord High Admiral. He can send a fleet to annihilate Thrax and his ships before they can become a problem.”

“Eliminating Thrax is our task,” Maddox said.

Everyone at the table stared at him, including Meta.

“Am I hearing you correctly, my boy?” Ludendorff asked. “You’re going to defeat Thrax and Drakos with the darter?”

“Not exactly,” Maddox said.

“What then?” asked Ludendorff.

The tiredness and arguing was too much. Maddox forced himself to his feet, walked away from the table and turned to face them. They almost seemed like strangers. Maddox approached slowly, putting his fingertips on the table. Sighing, deciding to get this over with, he explained what the Lord High Admiral had already explained to the Iron Lady back on Earth. Star Watch needed to win this one without using the fleet. Star Watch had lost too many warships throughout the years, was spread too thinly throughout the Commonwealth keeping troubles at bay on a hundred different planets and therefore had very little to concentrate to fight a set-piece space battle.

“Excuse me for saying this, sir,” Galyan said, “but I do not understand your line of reasoning. Victory could not defeat Commander Thrax or Lord Drakos. Surely, Drakos will offer Thrax excellent incentives to attack the Commonwealth. How can we change any of that in the darter?”

“You won’t be coming,” Maddox said, “as you’ll have to stay aboard Victory.”

“But—” Galyan said.

“That’s quite logical,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “I will also be staying—”

“Wrong,” Maddox said, interrupting the Methuselah Man. “You especially are going with me. Who knows more about Thrax’s psychology than you?”

“No one, of course,” Ludendorff said. “But you could say that about anything. That doesn’t mean I should join every adventure.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Meta asked her husband.

Maddox turned sharply toward his wife. Was she going to question him now as well? This was too much, and it stole some of his remaining energy.

“You have a trick up your sleeve,” Meta said. “I can tell by the way…” She gave him a meaningful glance.

Maddox shook his head ever so slightly, suddenly pleased with his wife. She had known what to do to support him against the others—to remind them that Maddox always had a trick up his sleeve.

Even if he didn’t, yet.

Ludendorff looked from Meta to Maddox and then back to Meta. The Methuselah Man leaned back in his chair. “He does have a trick. How are you planning to do this one, my boy? I have to say that you have my complete attention.”

Maddox tapped the table with his fingertips. He had actually forgotten about his secret. Had he told Meta? He couldn’t remember now. Had that been her way to prompt him? It would seem so, and yet, he didn’t want to tell the others. It was a secret, an emergency measure the Lord High Admiral and he had come up with back on Earth.

“I’m sorry,” Meta said softly.

“I’m not,” Ludendorff said. “Do you know how tired all of us are of you and your secrecy?”

“He is an Intelligence agent,” Galyan said. “He was trained to use secrecy as a tool and a—”

“None of that,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “We finally have the captain on the ropes. He has, or had, a secret plan to deal with Thrax, and now he has to tell us before any of us will agree to this tomfoolery.”

“I wish that was how Star Watch worked,” Sergeant Riker said gruffly. “But you all know it isn’t. We obey orders in Star Watch, and that goes triple for those in the Intelligence Division.”

Ludendorff crossed his arms. “I’m not in Star Watch, although I am the most important person aboard Victory. I will veto any plan that doesn’t include a reasonable chance of success.”

“I admit I am curious concerning this secret,” Galyan said. “What sort of weapon can destroy one hundred and sixty saucer-shaped warships, sir?”

“None that I know of,” Maddox said calmly.

Valerie had been listening carefully, and she now shook her head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Maddox frowned. “Sorry about what?”

Valerie stared directly at Meta. “That was well played. You fooled Ludendorff and actually had me believing you for a second.” She looked up at Maddox. “There is no secret weapon. There is just us and our wits. You had Meta say that in order to bolster our morale. Oh, and in case any of the darter’s crew is captured. Sir, you’re the best officer in Star Watch. But way out here in the Beyond, I think we should stick to the truth among ourselves.”

Ludendorff slapped the table. “Is the lieutenant right? There never was a secret? You were simply trying to bamboozle us?”

Maddox sat down, finally remembering the details now. He knew others thought of him as the trickster. Since they did, he tried to use that at times. It would seem that hadn’t worked today. He must have told Meta there was a secret so her belief would rub off on the others. Why hadn’t he remembered all this properly?

It took him a second to focus. “Because of the Android War, Star Watch is on a shoestring as it rebuilds,” Maddox said. “The Lord High Admiral expects us to take care of the problem. I intend to do just that. The first rule of taking care of a problem is to know your enemy. We need intelligence on Thrax and his planet. That’s all the darter will do. That’s all the Reynard can do: gather intel.”

“How do you keep the Swarm from spotting the darter?” Ludendorff asked.

“The darter has the power to cloak itself,” Maddox said. “If there is a secret, that’s it. It is also fold and star-drive-jump capable.”

“Why do you need me then?” Ludendorff asked.

“If you want to stay here and help with repairs, fine,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff’s eyes narrowed. “Good,” he said. “I’m staying, then.”

Maddox said nothing, although he finally nodded. He felt so damned tired, and they were so behind schedule. The fight with Drakos, the near loss of everyone, having to deal with another Clone Strand…the toll of these adventures seemed to be building. It had slammed against him hard earlier. He now felt drained… A man could only shoulder so much—

Maddox jerked as Meta kneaded his neck. He turned and looked up at her. She smiled down sadly. Maddox looked around. The chamber was empty except for the two of them.

Maddox frowned. “What happened? Where is everyone?”

“Darling,” Meta said. “I think…”

“Did I blank out?”

“You just sat there staring for the longest time. It unnerved the others. I finally motioned that they should leave. Darling, this darter idea seems wrong.”

“Meta, I have to go.”

“Why you?” she asked. “What if Drakos shows up with star cruisers as the others are repairing Victory?”

“How could I help against fourteen star cruisers?”

“Maybe Ludendorff is right. Maybe you should call headquarters and ask for Patrol help. You can’t do everything. You already know that. We’re stranded deep in the Beyond. If there was a time to call for help, this is it.”

“We’ve been stranded before,” he said. “We’ll make do.”

Meta shook her head. “You’re tired, just deep down tired. I can see it in your eyes, on your face. This partial stasis…maybe it triggered something in you.”

“You mean from the time I fought the Ska?”

“Yes,” Meta whispered. “You haven’t been like this since then.”

“I don’t know…” Maddox said. “I’m exhausted, I admit. Maybe I could have done something better against the Wyr 9000 or against the clone or Drakos. I…” He trailed off before he admitted that he might be slipping. All the years of struggle had taken an inner toll. He needed rest, and yet, he was Captain Maddox.

Without thinking about it, without telling Meta, he laid his arms on the table and set his head on his arms, falling asleep.

Meta stared at him, stunned at the performance. She didn’t know what to do. But she knew that she would do anything to protect her man.

-15-

“I’ll tell you what we should do,” Keith told Riker. The two of them were in a cafeteria at a table drinking coffee. There were others here, but none with them.

Treggason Riker was a sergeant in Star Watch Intelligence. He had been the young Maddox’s minder for years. He had even followed the brilliant officer into regular Star Watch command. He had never seen Maddox like this. Well, maybe after the Ska fight in the Alpha Centauri System, but that had put the captain into a coma. One thing he knew, what he’d seen in the conference chamber deeply troubled him. Maybe High Command was asking too much from Maddox. Did they do that because he was half New Man? The idea set Riker’s teeth on edge. You didn’t just use a man until he dropped. You protected someone who did so much for Star Watch—that’s what Riker planned to do anyway.

“Are you listening to me, mate?” Keith asked, putting a hand on one of Riker’s wrists.

“The other one,” Riker said.

“Eh?” asked Keith.

“You have a hand on my bionic wrist. I don’t really feel it.”

Keith withdrew his hand. “Never mind. You’re an old fart. Appealing to your emotions isn’t going to work on you.”

“You’re right,” Riker said. “I am old, and I’m not a dang fool like you. I expect you’re going to tell me that the two of us should hijack the darter and go see the Swarm ourselves.”

“Not exactly,” Keith muttered. “We would take Valerie with us as well. She would be the commanding officer. She would run the operation.”

“And you’ve cleared this with her?”

Keith stared the old sergeant in the eyes. “I have, mate. It’s her idea.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth,” Keith almost shouted.

“Keep your voice down,” Riker said, looking around. He eyed the brash pilot. “The captain would never agree to this.”

Keith drank his cup dry. Then he hunched his shoulders and stared at old Riker. “How many times has Maddox pulled us out of a fire?”

“Plenty,” Riker said uncomfortably.

“That’s right,” Keith said. “It’s about time we did something for him. You saw him in the conference chamber. He’s beat. He needs a breather.”

“How do you think getting yourself killed is going to make him feel?”

“We’ll do it. I’m the best. You’re good with a gun, and Valerie was the only one to survive the New Men long ago. She’s learned tons from Maddox. This is her time to shine.”

“She’s done fantastically many times already,” Riker said. “She doesn’t need to do this to prove anything.”

Keith shook his head. “She’s going. I’m going. The only question is are you going to help us?”

“I’m not a damned fool.”

“That’s not an answer. Maddox is exhausted. We can all see that. And we need the intelligence on Thrax and his ships. We should just go out and get it done.”

“Does Valerie have the Swarm system coordinates?”

“Galyan has them,” Keith said. “You’d have to get them from him.”

“And you think Galyan will tell me?”

“You or Meta,” Keith said. “I don’t think Meta will agree to this like you will, so I’m asking you first.”

Riker nodded. “I so appreciate that. You think I’m the dumb one. You’re right. Meta is too smart to fall for this lame idea.”

“Enough with the insults already,” Keith said. “Are you in or out?”

Riker studied the brash young pilot. Valerie and Keith together with him in the small darter… It would be spacious with just three people. Keith could pilot, Valerie was an excellent space tactician. After the captain, he was the best with a gun and knew enough about Intelligence work—

“You would need an engineer in case we got in trouble,” Riker said.

“Nope,” Keith said. “There’s not going to be any trouble. We go out there, look around and dart back. By that time, Victory is fixed and we can dash home.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It is,” Keith said, “as long as we do it right.”

“There’s the kicker every time.” Riker eyed the pilot. “I have one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You’re single, Valerie is single. You will both sleep in separate compartments and you will not lie with her as a man likes to do with a beautiful woman.”

“What the…?” Keith said. “What century do you think this is, mate?”

“I don’t care. I know what’s right and what’s wrong. I’m not going to be party to fornication. That will lower our odds for survival.”

“Why,” Keith said sarcastically, “because God will punish us?”

“He might,” Riker said. “And I might wonder if you’re just bringing Valerie along to get her in bed, which proves your judgment is clouded. But if you want a Star Watch reason, it’s unprofessional. It’ll take your minds off a tough mission. This is going to be done professionally or not at all.”

“If you don’t want to go, just say no.”

“If you want to sleep with the lieutenant, marry her like I once told you to do.”

“I don’t like people lecturing me about things that aren’t their damned business.”

Riker shrugged. He’d hit a nerve. He was tired of saying nothing when a man should say something. He was the old man, the reliable man. If he couldn’t use that, well—

“Fine,” Keith muttered. “It’s a lousy request—”

“Do you mean it?”

“I said yes, didn’t I?”

“I don’t like my friends to lie when they give me their word,” Riker said.

Keith looked away. “What are you going to do if I do it anyway?”

“Stare you in the eye and call you a liar.”

“And?”

“Maybe work you over like you’d deserve.”

Keith stared at Riker. “Think you could?”

The old man smiled, saying nothing.

“Okay, okay, I agree, mate, I agree.”

“Good,” Riker said standing. “Then, let’s get started. If I’ve learned one thing from the young pup, it’s to move fast once you’ve made your decision.”

-16-

Valerie paced in her room, fidgeting like crazy because her stomach had tightened with worry. Should she do this? Should she commandeer the darter? Yes, if their positions were reversed, Captain Maddox would do this in a second. But he was lucky. She knew her job, but she didn’t know that was particularly lucky.

No one had ever named her di-far. Look at the captain with his beautiful wife. Meta used to hate him—long ago, anyway. The captain’s persistence must have won Meta over. And the captain knew when to change tactics, too.

That was the other thing. Keith would be piloting. They had been on and off for some time. With just the two of them in the darter, with old man Riker probably wanting to spend time alone, that would leave her and Keith together. Did she love Keith? She used to think so. But he was so opposite to her. He was brash. She was careful. He boasted. She never did.

Valerie shook her head. That wasn’t the issue. She was a Star Watch officer. She wanted to rise in rank, to run her own starship someday. She’d learned to take chances when that was the right thing to do. But commandeering a darter and going on a dangerous mission while deep in the Beyond…

That could put a black mark on her record. That might mean she would never get promoted. She might never have her own command then. Her dad hadn’t worked so hard for her, she hadn’t worked so hard to get out of the slums, for her to just throw everything away on a brash plan.

One thing deeply troubled her, though. Keith said they owed the captain. That was true. She had also worked hard for Maddox, helping him to become who he was. Why had he looked so tired during the conference?

“Oh,” she said, startled, reaching for a beamer in a holster strapped to her side as she saw something move.

“I am sorry, Valerie,” said the little holoimage of Galyan which had just appeared in her room. “I did not mean to startle you.”

“I’ve told you not to do that.”

“I know.”

“And what are you doing in my room? This is my room. I might have been naked.”

“Shall I leave, Valerie?”

“No. I guess not.” She holstered the beamer.

Galyan looked around the room. “This is the neatest room in the ship. What are those pictures? Oh. Is that Lieutenant Maker?”

“Are you trying to make me angry?”

Galyan looked at her, surprised. “Not at all, Valerie. You are one of my dearest friends. I only want to help you.”

“Did Keith tell you to do this?”

“As a matter of fact, Valerie, he did. Oh. Is this a prank? Did I make an error, believing this is real when it is not?”

“No.”

Galyan hesitated for just a moment. “Does this have anything to do with Captain Maddox’s abnormal malady?”

Valerie hesitated this time, before saying, “It does.”

“That is what my probability predictor indicated. I have only seen him like this once before.”

“When?” Valerie asked.

“After he used the Builder device against the Ska,” Galyan said.

“That’s interesting. What could have caused the reaction to happen again?”

“Overwork,” Galyan said. “That is what my probability predictor indicates.”

“No,” Valerie said. “It’s not overwork. It’s something else.”

“How do you know my predictor is wrong?”

“I just do, okay?”

“But you spoke with such certainty. How can you be so certain at a time like this?” Galyan’s eyelids flickered. “Is this an instance of intuition?”

“I guess.”

“That would be…odd if your intuition was superior to my probability predictor. I use highly advanced software for it. You just have your evolved brain.”

“Or created, designed brain,” Valerie said.

“You are switching the topic, Valerie. You only do that when you are uncomfortable. That leads me to conclude—” Galyan stopped as he stared at her.

“You were going to say?”

“It is too delicate for me to broach. If you are going to ask, you are going to have to be more specific.”

Valerie fidgeted. Why couldn’t Riker have agreed to do this? Did the sergeant know something she didn’t? “Will this go down in my record?”

“Yes, Valerie, as I will make sure it does.”

Her gaze hardened, and so did her resolve. Was Galyan trying to make her back down? Well, that wasn’t going to work against her. People had tried to intimidate her in the past, to their sorrow. Maybe she didn’t have many friends, but she knew how to fight and how to keep going.

“Galyan,” she said.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Valerie? It could ruin everything for you.”

“I want the coordinates to the new Swarm homeworld.”

“I do not have them.”

“What? Keith told me you did.”

“I have various ‘E’ radiation readings. Swarm ships emit ‘E’ radiation.”

Valerie frowned before she got it. “I would like the coordinates to the various readings.”

“On whose authority, Valerie?”

“On my authority,” she said. “You can record that if you like.”

“I already have,” Galyan said. “By the way, I agree with what you are doing. Normally, I would never do anything behind the captain’s back. He has done too much for me. But you three are trying to help him, even though he would not accept the help and even though this move might hurt your future career chances. I admire such moral courage, Valerie, and I think more highly of you for being willing to take it on yourself.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You are most welcome. Here are the coordinates.” The holoimage told her.

Valerie wrote them down in a notebook, sighing when she snapped the book shut. Galyan had vanished. Now, she’d done it. The strange thing was that the tight feeling in her gut was gone. She actually felt better.

“I hope I feel that way in eight weeks,” she said. Still holding the notebook, she headed for the hatch. It was time to make plans with Keith and Riker for when and how they should leave.

-17-

During the next few hours, the captain’s condition must have deteriorated because medical personnel moved him from his bedroom to a high-security location in Medical.

“I feel as if I’m deserting a sinking ship,” Valerie told Keith in Hangar Bay 1.

“Nonsense,” the ace said. “Maddox has always pulled through, and I know he always will.”

The three of them headed toward the experimental Darter Reynard, which was parked in the middle of the bay. Riker was already supposed to be inside the experimental vessel.

The Darter-class scout ship had fold capabilities like a fold fighter and yet still had star-drive jump like a larger vessel. What it did not have was a Laumer Drive. Thus, by itself, the experimental ship could not use wormholes unless it joined with a ship that could.

The vessel was seven times larger than a fold-fighter and was packed with new technologies. The new techs allowed for the smaller size. The darter lacked true hull armor, although it did have a special polymer skin. It also lacked any shield generator whatsoever. This was a scout vessel pure and simple, relying on its stealth, fold and star-drive jump capabilities. If an enemy vessel fired upon the darter, and the beam or solid projectile reached the ship, the darter would crumple or explode, killing everyone aboard. The trick, therefore, was not being there when the beam arrived. Preferably, it would prove wiser not to let anyone see it to target the darter in the first place.

The darter looked like a giant space bomber, including the delta-type wing, a giant triangle in the back. Most of the space held the fold, star-drive jump and stealth field engines, with a tiny nuclear engine to supply power. The darter’s armaments were a few 20-millimeter autocannons, three antimissiles and one mini-rocket with a nuclear warhead. That meant it was almost defenseless against anything else that carried weaponry.

“Let’s go,” Keith said, indicating that Valerie take the lead. She did, and Keith smiled as he admired her backside. Oh yes, indeed, this was going to be a splendid opportunity to get to know Valerie much, much better. Keith remembered his promise to Riker, but Riker was an old fart. The sergeant couldn’t possibly remember how a younger man thought. Look at that ass. Valerie was practically begging for his advances. She wouldn’t have worn such tight garments otherwise, or agreed to walk ahead.

Valerie looked back at him.

Keith raised his gaze to meet hers.

“Maybe you should go first,” she said dryly.

“Up the ladder you go,” he said. “Now, hurry, darling. We don’t have all day.”

“What did you say?”

“It’s just a figure of speech,” he said.

Valerie eyed him a moment more, then reached for the ladder and climbed up.

Keith grinned happily behind her. Oh, yes, oh, yes, this was fine. He could hardly wait for the trip to start.

Riker met them at the airlock, helping Valerie through. He eyed Keith next.

“All set, old man?” the ace asked.

“Oh, don’t slip,” Riker said, reaching out, taking hold of Keith’s left forearm. The sergeant applied a little bionic strength, making the ace twist under the pressure as he entered the darter.

“What are you doing?” Keith shouted.

Valerie and Galyan looked back at them.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Riker said, as he held the ace with the bionic hand and brushed him down with the other. “You’re going to agree to my choice of quarters,” Riker whispered to him.

“Yes, yes, of course I will, mate,” Keith said just as quietly if painfully.

Riker released the younger man.

Keith did his best not to rub his injured forearm.

The darter had a narrow main corridor with hatches leading to a number of chambers. Three of them were bedrooms. Riker suggested Valerie take the farther room, he, Riker would take the middle one and Keith would take the room nearest the engine compartment.

Galyan went through the darter with them, explaining far too much. Finally, Valerie faced the little Adok.

“We should leave immediately,” she said.

“You lack authorization to do so,” Galyan said.

“You’re going to fake it for me.”

“But—”

“Unless you want to wake the captain and ask him,” Valerie suggested.

“You must know, then,” Galyan said.

“Know what?” Riker demanded.

“The captain has slipped into a coma,” Galyan said.

“When?” Riker snapped.

“Two hours ago,” Galyan said.

“Oh, this is bad, very bad,” Keith said. “Maybe you should stay and look after the captain,” he told the sergeant.

Riker nodded, his worry obvious.

“Meta will look after him,” Galyan said. “I will, too, and so will Ludendorff.”

Riker swore gruffly. “Now, listen here, Galyan. Don’t you let that Methuselah Man anywhere near the captain.”

“But I thought Ludendorff has proven himself and is finally trustworthy,” Galyan said.

Riker made as if to grab Galyan with his bionic hand. At the last moment, Riker checked himself. He was torn. Maybe he should stay. But if he left the Reynard, Keith would screw up the mission as certain as anything. But if something happened to Maddox while he was gone…

Riker whirled around and tapped Keith’s chest with a bionic finger. “If Maddox dies because I have to be here to watch you, you’re in trouble.”

“Me?” Keith cried. “Why are you picking on me, mate?”

“That’s a good question,” Valerie said. “What does Keith have to do with the captain’s condition? Why do you have to watch him?”

Riker stared at Valerie, looked at Keith and it was on the tip of his tongue to say. Keith gave him such a pathetic look, however, and slightly shook his head…

“Listen, mate,” Keith said, putting his mouth next to one of Riker’s ear, “I made my promise. I’m good for it. If you want to stay back—”

Riker shoved Keith away and turned around.

“Where are you going?” Valerie asked.

“To say goodbye to the captain,” Riker said in a gruff voice.

“But we want to leave now,” Valerie said.

“Give me half an hour.” Without waiting for an answer, Riker hurried to the hatch and slid down the ladder. It was all he could do to keep from running through the hangar bay. Maddox had slipped into a coma. If the young man died, Riker would never forgive himself for leaving. The sergeant began to run.

***

Maddox lay in medical with tubes attached to him. He hardly breathed, simply lying there as if waiting to die. It was unbelievable, inconceivable.

Riker bent one of the bedrails with his bionic grip until he realized what he was doing. “Captain Maddox,” he whispered. “I wonder if you can hear me, sir. I, I’m planning to help do something that I don’t know if you’ll like or not. I’m hoping a man like you would like it, but you can be such a stickler for rules sometimes when it applies to others. How’s a mere sergeant to know?”

Riker frowned. He might have retired some time ago, but he knew he could never live with himself if the captain died and he could have saved the young fellow by a well-placed shot or knife thrust.

The hatch opened. Riker turned as Ludendorff waltzed in.

“Oh, you’re here,” the Methuselah Man said, stopping. “I didn’t know.”

Riker craned to look past Ludendorff, but he didn’t see anyone else.

“Is there a problem, Sergeant?”

“Yes…I guess I don’t have to ‘sir’ you, do I?”

Ludendorff didn’t answer, just watched him.

“You don’t always like the captain much, do you?” Riker asked.

“What are you trying to imply?”

Riker bared his teeth. “You know I’m a dead-eye shot, don’t you?”

“Is this one of your quaint threats?”

“I’m not going to threaten you, Professor. I’m going to promise you something. If you harm the captain in any way, I’ll kill you.”

“How odd,” Ludendorff said. “That actually sounds like a threat.”

“Mince up my words however you want,” Riker said. “I don’t care. I’ve said what I’m going to. But listen to this. Either Meta or I will guard the captain at all times.”

“You’re not going on the darter mission?”

Riker stared at the Methuselah Man, wondering how Ludendorff knew about that.

“I’m here to speak to the captain,” Ludendorff finally said.

“So speak,” Riker said gruffly.

“This is personal, old boy. I need to talk to him alone.”

Riker’s nostrils flared, and he continued to stare at Ludendorff.

“Oh, well…” Ludendorff said. “I’ll be off, then.” With that, the Methuselah Man turned around, and suddenly he seemed to be in a hurry.

-18-

Valerie was busy rechecking everything on the darter. She had stowed her gear and Keith had stowed his. They were waiting for Riker to reappear. During that time, she was going to make sure she hadn’t forgotten something critical.

Galyan, meanwhile, had gained clearance. A klaxon had begun to wail, and the hangar bay personnel were hurrying so the outer port could open.

Valerie still wasn’t one hundred percent certain this was a good idea. But she wasn’t going to quit now. She would see this through no matter what. If Keith became a problem…

She frowned, shaking her head. She wouldn’t let him become a problem. The tricky part would be finding Thrax’s new homeworld, if the bug actually had one. They had some “E” radiation to check in several star systems. Did Thrax have to be at one of those locations? Of course not. This could turn out to be a wild goose chase. But, the “E” radiation needed investigating. If there was nothing…then the captain might actually agree to call headquarters for help. They were going to need help this time. That seemed obvious to her. How Maddox had always managed—

“Lieutenant,” Keith called in a strange voice. “We might have a problem.”

Valerie raised her head, and an odd dizziness struck. She rubbed her forehead and held onto a desk to help keep her balance. She hated people calling from down the corridor, expecting her to come running. Why didn’t he come down here if he wanted her attention so badly?

“Lieutenant,” Keith shouted.

The dizziness struck again. Valerie closed her eyes, fighting it, and heaved the tiniest bit. If she hadn’t immediately controlled it, she might have vomited. She was not going to throw up.

“Lieutenant!”

“What?” she shouted back from her room.

“I need you here!” Keith shouted.

“Where are you?”

“In the piloting chamber,” he yelled.

“What’s wrong, anyway?”

“Will you just come here?”

The dizziness passed. She shoved an e-reader into a drawer and marched out of her bedroom, down the corridor—the dizziness struck again. She staggered this way and that, as if the deck heaved under her feet. She crouched low, rubbing her forehead, and decided to lean against the one bulkhead, sliding along it into the piloting chamber. She stopped short because Keith strained to stand from his chair, but he could not, and she couldn’t understand why not.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

Keith blinked several times, strained so his face began turning red, and breathed out explosively. That caused him to collapse back into the piloting chair.

“Keith,” she shouted, running into the chamber and around the chair so she could face him. She staggered once, and then stumbled in front of him.

He just sat there staring at her, breathing steadily now. The whole situation was bizarre—

“Oh,” she said, noticing a metal collar around his throat. Normally, he didn’t wear jewelry of any sort, thinking it unmanly. What was going on?

“Say something?” she said.

Keith slowly shook his head.

“Can’t you speak?” she asked.

He just stared at her.

Okay, she told herself. Something was seriously off. The collar—

Keith collapsed forward, and he might have struck his head against the pilot board, but Valerie caught him and gently laid him on the deck.

“Keith,” she said, rolling him onto his back. “Keith. What happened to you?”

“He’s fine.”

Valerie froze, recognizing the voice. It belonged to Professor Ludendorff. She thought about it, and then she snatched for her holstered beamer, straightening and aiming the weapon at Ludendorff—and screamed, releasing the suddenly hot pistol.

The beamer clunked onto the deck beside Keith.

“What’s going on?” Valerie said coldly.

“Not a thing, my dear,” Ludendorff said in a pleasant voice. “We’re doing the responsible thing. I’m simply making sure it happens.”

“You’re not coming with us, if that’s what you mean,” she said.

“On the contrary, you two are coming with me.”

“There’s no way you can make me take you.”

“Do you see the collar around Keith’s throat?”

“I get it,” she said. “You put it there. I don’t understand when.”

“I can walk very quietly when I want to, and I wanted to a few moments ago. I needed a small diversion, and Keith provided it. Now, my dear, I’d like you to put another collar around your neck.”

The professor held one up.

“Not a chance,” she said.

“Lieutenant, I do not mean you or the pilot any harm. I’m going to join the expedition and see if the captain was correct about Commander Thrax.”

“And if he is?”

“Then, the three of us are going to race back home to gather reinforcements.”

“Leaving Victory to her fate?” Valerie asked.

“I wouldn’t put it like that. I would rather say that we’re going to help the stubborn captain save his crew and starship.”

“How can you do this, Professor? The captain has pulled your fat out of the fire more times than I can count.”

“Do you have such a limited vocabulary, then?”

Valerie rubbed her forehead as the dizziness slammed home. It seemed as if the deck tilted under her feet. She grew very still in order to keep herself from vomiting.

“Not feeling so well?” Ludendorff asked.

She glared at him, noticing that one of his hands was in a jacket pocket. “You smug bastard, you think you’re so clever. What are you doing to me? Why do I feel dizzy?”

“I’m a professor, not a country doctor.”

Valerie’s brow grew tight. “Why did I feel dizzy? Are you secretly beaming a ray at me?”

“Will you freely don the collar or not?”

“Not,” she said.

“Then, you leave me no choice, Lieutenant.” The professor pulled a clunky looking gun out of the jacket pocket. He aimed it at her and pulled the trigger—and nothing happened.

Valerie laughed harshly. She bent down and grabbed for the beamer on the deck beside Keith, and that was the last thing she remembered as she fell forward what seemed like a thousand kilometers until she struck the deck, unconscious.

PART III

ENLISTMENT

-1-

Three weeks after leaving Victory, the Reynard slipped into yet another star system.

Valerie’s strange dizziness had been due to a brain calibrator disc Ludendorff had used to disorient her so she wouldn’t feel the darter as it drifted out of the hangar bay.

Now, the darter entered its seventh star system just like the last six, using stealth mode as it came out of its star-drive jump. Valerie piloted, with a collar around her neck and a ten-ton chip on her shoulder.

She raised her head, shaking off Jump Lag, and stared out of the polarized window at the nearby red giant, Mira A or Omicron Ceti. The star was part of the constellation of Cetus. The pulsating variable star was also 305 light-years from the Solar System, and was part of a binary system.

Valerie swallowed uneasily. In her opinion, the darter was far too near Mira A and the stream of mass leaving the “cool” red giant.

The darter did not have a shield to protect them from solar radiation, just the special polymer skin on the outer hull. Ludendorff had assured her the darter could take this. He’d also told her that appearing in the system near the star was the wisest course. If Thrax and his bugs were in the binary system, they would be hard-pressed to spot the tiny speck of a stealth ship against the giant’s huge mass.

A bridge of stellar material flowed from the red giant 70 AUs to the hot white dwarf, Mira B, which absorbed the mass. This was a symbiotic pair system, the closest one like it to Earth’s Sun.

How there could possibly be a habitable planet in such a binary, symbiotic system, Valerie had no idea. There was a protoplanetary disk rotating around the hot white dwarf, but it would be a tremendously long time before the matter in the disk coalesced into planets, if ever.

Valerie studied the sensors. There were some planets here after all, but they were far beyond the two stars—the white dwarf orbiting the red giant 70 AUs out.

When Valerie had awakened from her original swoon, she’d found the collar around her throat. She’d tried to tug it off a hundred times. The attempts had left her with neck pain for days. The professor had used the collar’s control properties on her seven times. Sometimes that meant destabilizing shocks. Sometimes that meant another swoon. Sometimes that meant an incredible headache as her eyesight blurred. She’d learned to hate Professor Ludendorff. The Methuselah Man had said more times than she could remember that he was helping Star Watch, not hurting it.

“Why can’t you see that?” he’d ask her repeatedly.

Every time he spoke like that, she tugged at the collar. Maybe Maddox could overlook the professor’s transgressions. She certainly would not. When she got her chance, she was going to blow the Methuselah Man’s oversized brains out.

In fact, Valerie had taken as much as she was going to take. Three weeks of his insufferable self was too much. She had reached her breaking point. The few times she’d seen Keith and whispered her plans, he’d laughed.

We wear collars, he said. So what? It won’t last forever.

Well, damnit, Keith hadn’t grown up in Greater Detroit, in the slums. He hadn’t fought his way up from the bottom. He hadn’t fought off rapists before, thrusting a knife in a man’s eye so she could keep her dignity intact. Keith hadn’t been a loner, enduring by grit and sheer stubbornness.

The point was this. By not giving in Valerie had almost reached the place where she would rather see Ludendorff die than Star Watch win. It was a harmful trait in her, but she had always known it was there. The trait had actually sustained her mental health during the Academy days. Valerie knew she could only take so much, and then she would snap and hurt the ones trying to hurt her. Only…she would hurt them ten times worse than they had hurt her.

Was that vengeance?

Hell yes, it was vengeance, a double or maybe even a quadruple dose of vengeance. Was she proud of that?

As Valerie piloted the darter away from the red giant and the 70 AU long bridge of mass loss, she nodded the affirmative. She had tried since joining Victory’s crew to work on her positive emotions, reinforcing them as much as possible. She had watered them like plants, she might say. But deep inside her, the negative emotions, the dark ways, lived, waiting for the day she needed them again.

This was the day, the time, the hour. She had gone over in her mind a hundred, nay, a thousand possible methods for paying Ludendorff back for his treachery. The smug bastard, the proud prick—

Valerie’s eyes brightened with that thought. Prick…she would use his dick against him. Hadn’t he used to brag that he was the universe’s greatest lover?

She actually laughed for the first time in three weeks.

Yes, the professor could boast about his sexual prowess better than Keith did concerning his piloting skills. Ludendorff believed that he was the greatest lover in the universe. Maybe she could seduce him; she’d seen the way he looked at her a time or two. It wasn’t open admiration like Keith. Keith had honest lust. Keith wanted her, and maybe even wanted to marry her. What had Sergeant Riker told the ace, anyway?

Valerie shook her head. That didn’t matter now. Dealing with the Methuselah Man was the issue. Of course, Ludendorff would be cagier than any other man alive. He supposedly had hundreds of years of experience under his belt. But he was still a man who liked what he saw.

The hatch opened.

Valerie’s hackles rose. She could feel Ludendorff staring at her. She forced herself to relax as she manipulated her board.

“You were supposed to alert me the moment you came out of Jump Lag,” he said.

“I must have forgotten.”

“I doubt that.” Ludendorff walked to a second chair, sitting down near her. The Methuselah Man glanced at the controls. “You haven’t set the stealth field.”

“Oh,” she said, making no move to do it.

“Are you trying to get us caught?”

“No,” she said mulishly.

Ludendorff laughed, shaking his head. “Do you think you’re clever, Lieutenant? Do you think I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking?”

She glared at him. “What am I thinking?”

“How to seduce me,” he said with a leer.

Valerie could feel heat on her face. No doubt she blushed crimson. How could this lecherous old bastard know how and what she thought? Did he have mind powers?

“If you successfully seduced me,” he said, “you would never want another man. Yet, you would be glad for the unique experience. You would tell other women what they’ve been missing. It would help you throughout the decades, remembering our time together. But you would always long to lay with me again.”

“Sure,” she said. “That’s why Doctor Dana Rich is racing back to you even now.”

Hurt and then rage entered his eyes. She hadn’t seen either during the trip. The rage boiled against her. Instead of making her fearful, she felt wonderfully glad. Finally, she had a way to needle him.

Valerie laughed openly in Ludendorff’s face.

“You do not understand the forces you are playing with,” he said in a dangerously controlled voice.

“But I do,” she said. “It’s that I don’t care.”

“Don’t care whether you live or die?”

She looked away, silently cursing herself for being a fool. She was supposed to trick Ludendorff, not make it easy for him.

“Oh, Valerie,” he said, “you must be the simplest member of Victory’s crew. You are so elemental. It’s one of the reasons I chose to use the darter: that you would be here.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I know. You hate me. It’s how you sustain yourself. It’s a poor choice on your part, but it is your way. I can sympathize. But if I’d chosen that way, I would have been dead three hundred years ago.”

“You hate Maddox.”

“No. I let people believe that. For instance, I tricked the sergeant into staying back on the ship. He’s another simple person like you. In his case, though, I needed him off the darter so I could take his place.”

She faced the professor. “I don’t think so. I think you’re an opportunist, grabbing at this chance. I don’t know what you’re really after, though.”

“No one does,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, whatever. Why are we out here?”

Before Ludendorff could answer, a red blip appeared on the board.

“Bingo,” the professor said. “There’s the reason.”

“More ‘E’ radiation?”

“Look, Lieutenant.”

She heard something different in his voice. Might that be genuine excitement? She looked at the “E” Radiation Scope, and she saw—

“A surge,” she said. “The ‘E’ radiation is surging.”

“From a Swarm ship,” Ludendorff said softly. “We may not have found the new colony, but we have definitely found a working saucer-shaped vessel moving through the system.”

The saucer was beyond the white dwarf 70 AUs away. They would need to make another star-drive jump to reach there quickly. Before that—

Automatically, without conscious thought, Valerie deployed the darter’s stealth field.

Ludendorff noticed, and gave the slightest nod of approval. “We must jump closer, to find out why the Swarm ship is here.”

“Yeah,” Valerie said, with something new in her voice as she reverted to being a Star Watch officer, one on a dangerous but necessary mission.

“We must do this without anyone spotting us,” he said.

“I know that,” she said. “And we will.”

-2-

Twenty-three light-years away from Omicron Ceti, in the former Builder base system, the Agamemnon and five other star cruisers protected the carefully constructed and activated Far Tracker.

Before deploying the Far Tracker, the six star cruisers had moved much farther out in the system, having reached its Oort cloud. They had left the burnt-out debris of the exploded Builder base and the continuing heavy concentrations of gamma and other hard radiation.

The other six star cruisers of Drakos’s flotilla were scouting, hunting for Thrax’s new colony. None of the six had returned yet.

The Far Tracker was a fascinating device of alien technology. Interestingly, it was not Builder or Builder-derived tech. This was of unknown alien origin, and it worked in a haphazard fashion. Strand had found it long ago and given it to the Throne World as part of his tech package when he’d ruled the New Men.

The Far Tracker looked like a giant bone flower, spread several hundred meters wide as the power junction below on the “bone stem” vibrated with energy. The Far Tracker could “look” in a fashion using the teleporting principle. It did not see through the intervening space, but actually took a shot of the far place there in that instant. The split-second shot took much of the strange power, and it had to build up again to take a second, third or fourth look. Calibrating the far shot and getting the power source to match the calibration often took days. A few times, the operation worked in hours, and that made Lord Drakos happy. Most of the time, though, it was delayed.

Drakos presently stood in a dimly lit chamber aboard the Agamemnon, examining the previous far shots. The glossy pictures looked like primitive X-ray transparencies of a person’s mouth and teeth. Drakos used a special spotting device. It acted much like a magnifying glass, although it was more than that.

Each location on the picture that the magnifying device “saw” expanded, giving more detail. The spotter was also alien technology, the same tech that had given them the Far Tracker.

Through the spotter, Drakos studied the darter, the Reynard, in a different system from its present location—although Drakos didn’t know that. While the darter’s stealth technology worked wonderfully against most sensor technologies, it stood out like a beacon to the alien Far Tracker. Drakos didn’t know why, nor did he care about the reason, just that it worked. In that way, the superior was far different from a Methuselah Man.

Using the Far Tracker, they had been tracking the darter, following its path. Nar Falcon had already determined that the scout vessel belonged to Victory.

The six star cruisers’ sensors had found nothing in the nearby annihilation of the ex-Builder base to believe that the Star Watch vessel had been destroyed in the blast. Somehow, Maddox and his crew had escaped the destruction before it happened.

Drakos dearly wanted to know how Maddox had known to flee in time. He did not believe it was a coincidence, as Nar Falcon had tried to argue initially.

The superior sighed, setting aside the magnifying spotter. He rubbed his eyes. It had been three weeks since the Builder base had exploded. Drakos had been growing increasingly anxious. This was the worst part of a hunt. When prey hid like this—

A comm crackled.

Drakos whirled angrily. He had given strict orders that no one was to interrupt him while he was looking at the Far Shots. Here, though, someone had disobeyed him. He vowed that it would not happen a second time.

“Yes?” he said into the comm.

“Nar Falcon here, lord,” the superior said. “We’ve found the darter’s new system.”

“Yes, yes,” Drakos said, infected by Nar Falcon’s excitement. “What else have you spotted?”

“A Swarm saucer-shaped ship, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

“Yes!” Drakos hissed. “Yes, yes, yes, I’ve done it.”

“You have, lord. Following the darter with the Far Tracker was a brilliant decision.”

“It was. Now, begin tearing down the Far Tracker for transport.”

“At once, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

There was an odd inflection in the superior’s voice that caused Drakos to incline his head. “Is there something else you wish to add?”

“May I ask a question, lord?”

“Concerning my order?”

“I withdraw the request for permission, lord.”

“No, no,” Drakos said, feeling in an expansive mood. They had found a Swarm ship. “Go ahead, ask your question.”

“I mean no disrespect in asking it, lord.”

“Ask, Nar Falcon. I have given you permission.”

“I wonder if we should leave the Far Tracker here to pick it up later.”

Drakos frowned as he considered the idea. The Far Tracker was unique tech, alien tech. Leaving it here in order to jump at once—

“No,” Drakos said. “Dismantle the Far Tracker and put it back in the Agamemnon’s hold. We will proceed once you have accomplished that. Do not take too long.”

“Yes, lord,” Nar Falcon said. “I hear and obey.”

Drakos grinned. They had found a Swarm vessel, one that had likely survived Alpha Centauri A’s explosion. That meant he would likely find Commander Thrax Ti Ix. Maddox’s people were moving toward a meeting before him—

Drakos’s chest expanded. It was time to get there and destroy the darter. Afterward…afterward, he would make contact with the Swarm creatures and give them a proposal they could not possibly refuse.

-3-

A day later, Valerie piloted the darter as it cruised well past the white dwarf of the binary, symbiotic star system, heading toward a Jupiter-sized gas giant. That gas giant orbited the two stars 15 AUs out from the white dwarf.

The Swarm vessel they had originally spotted had jumped, and Valerie had not been able to pick it up on the sensors again. It had not, apparently, jumped to the Jupiter-sized gas giant or to any of the thirteen moons orbiting the planet. There was an Earth-sized rocky moon orbiting the gas giant, but the saucer-shaped ship had not jumped there.

At least, I can’t see it, Valerie told herself.

The darter used its stealth field and did not add thrust, using its present velocity to travel toward the gas giant.

According to the sensors, the Earth-sized rocky moon had a dense atmosphere, although there was little oxygen present, about two percent. Mostly, the moon’s atmosphere was methane and chlorine. That would not sustain bugs. Besides, the moon would be freezing that far out from the two stars, the two heat sources.

Some of Valerie’s initial enthusiasm at finding a Swarm vessel had waned. Thinking about that, she tugged at her metal collar. Ludendorff claimed they would race home to the Commonwealth and raise a fleet of Patrol ships to come back and finish off Commander Thrax for good. She didn’t believe him. Hadn’t Maddox told them at the briefing that Star Watch didn’t have enough ships available to form a credible fleet? The collars meant Ludendorff had ulterior motives. She wished she knew what they were.

She hadn’t been able to talk to Keith about it, either. For the last week, Ludendorff had refused to let them see each other. If she piloted, Keith remained in his room. If he piloted, she stayed in her room. She’d asked Ludendorff why he did that. He said it was a wise precaution on his part, but refused to say more.

It was driving her crazy. She had always been a loner, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being alone. Back in the old days, she had gone to dance halls and concerts, liking to be around people. Heck, if for no other reason, it was why she liked libraries. She could read alone, but she wasn’t lonely.

This aloneness in the darter, with only the puffed-up clownfish Ludendorff for company, had begun driving her nuts. She needed to see other faces. She wanted to talk to Keith and compare notes.

Chill out, she silently told herself. She was doing Star Watch work again. Maybe the professor would try something cute later, but if she could find Thrax’s colony world for good, and help the Patrol destroy the marauding Swarm invaders, she would have done right sneaking aboard the darter in the beginning.

Several hours passed as the darter maintained its heading toward the rocky moon. Valerie passed the time by studying each of the thirteen moons, using the darter’s powerful passive sensors.

There were thirteen of them altogether, the smallest the size of Luna. It was unusual seeing such large moons around one—

A red blip flashed on her board. Valerie’s throat tightened. The blip flashed again. She manipulated her board. She muttered a curse. Enemy sensors had swept over the darter.

Valerie did nothing for just a moment. Where did the sensor sweeps originate?

She bent forward and manipulated the panel, finally pinpointing the location. It was a sensor station on the smallest, Luna-sized moon. Did the station aim at the darter on purpose, or was this a random sweep?

The hatch slid up, and Ludendorff rushed into the piloting chamber. He threw himself into the second seat and his fingers blurred across his panel.

“You should have told me,” he said.

“Why? You’ve wired the ship to tell you.”

He glanced at her before manipulating his board once more.

“Well?” she asked, leaning back in her seat.

“Well what?” he demanded. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you—?”

A klaxon blared.

Ludendorff cursed.

Valerie snapped forward, her fingers flying now. “A more aggressive sensor has fixed our location,” she said.

“I can see that very well, thank you.”

“We’ll know soon enough if there are more Swarm ships here or not.”

“We want to know that without getting captured,” Ludendorff declared.

“Maybe it’s time to get Keith.”

He turned to her. “Why? What can he do that we can’t?”

“He’s the best pilot.”

“Best fighter jock, maybe,” Ludendorff said. “This is a spaceship, a scout-ship. If we have to act like a fighter, then we’ve probably already lost.”

Another klaxon blared.

“Interesting,” Valerie said. “Look.” She pointed at one of her screens.

Ludendorff leaned her way. Then, he struck an armrest and shot to his feet. The old fellow began to pace, scowling and shaking his head.

Valerie looked at the screen. Three large missiles had blasted off from the Luna-sized moon. The missiles headed this way, ten AUs away at present. The missiles wouldn’t reach the darter for days, if that. So obviously, they were not in immediate danger—

Ludendorff stopped pacing to stare at her. “The Swarm has spotted the darter. We have to leave the system.”

“Is that reasonable? We have days before the missiles reach us.”

“We’re heading back to the Commonwealth right now.”

Valerie glanced at him. “We have to warn Maddox first. Then, we have to ask him for instructions.”

“Negative. I’ve given you my orders.”

“There’s another problem you might not have considered all the way through,” she said. “What have we found, exactly? One saucer-shaped vessel, a sensor installation and three long-range missiles. We haven’t yet found Thrax’s new colony world.”

“What do you call the rocky world out there?”

“If you mean the Earth-sized moon, I would call it a possibility. We need more data before we rush off.”

“You’re for staying, then?”

“For another day, at least.”

Ludendorff ran a hand through his thick white hair. “You’re forgetting that Thrax has one hundred and sixty star-drive-jump capable ships. He had that many when he fled Alpha Centauri, anyway. The missiles are accelerating and will take days to reach us, depending on how much and how quickly they accelerate. Before then, enemy Swarm vessels might be surrounding us, using their star-drive to surprise us. Do you want Thrax to capture you?”

“Of course, I do,” she half-snapped.

“What? Oh,” Ludendorff said. “That is hyperbole.”

“Look, I’m just saying we don’t know enough yet. I vote we use the fold or the star drive, take a closer look at the two most interesting moons and then run like mad, back for Victory.”

“We must warn the Lord High Admiral.”

“That’s right,” Valerie said. “That means using the long-range Builder comm device aboard Victory. We have to get a call out as soon as possible to give High Command time to gather a fleet. Remember, Star Watch is spread out everywhere. Scraping together enough ships to make a fleet large enough to face the Swarm and the New Men—”

“I just had a thought,” Ludendorff said, interrupting as he tapped his chin.

“What now?”

“Maybe this is a grand bluff, or a diversion.”

“What? How do you figure that?”

“Think about it.”

“I’m asking you, Professor.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “I’m the genius. I’m the one who can see farther and deeper than anyone else can. Why do I always expect my brilliance to rub off on others? This wish is a failing on my part.” He faced Valerie squarely. “It is hard, sometimes, to be the lone genius.”

“I’m crying for you,” Valerie said sarcastically. “But I’ll tell you what. I can cry harder if you take off this damned collar.”

“You’re a dreadful bore, do you know that? You’re a monomaniac like the captain. Why can’t you look at the big picture for once?”

“You were saying something about a diversion?”

“Humph. I’m not sure I want to say now.”

Valerie shook her head. What a spoiled child he seemed.

“None of that,” Ludendorff said. “I won’t have anyone looking down on me when I’m obviously the one in control.”

“Do you know how childish that sounds?”

“Now, I certainly won’t tell you.”

“And again. It doesn’t matter—I’ve already figured it out, genius. Your diversion idea means the New Men are not splintered into hardliner and softliner factions, but that they’ve been playing a long-term game with us. We call. Star Watch scrapes together a fleet, heading out into the Beyond, and the main New Man fleet moves in, ravaging the under-defended Commonwealth.”

Ludendorff raised his bushy white eyebrows. “That’s quite astute, Lieutenant. Perhaps the captain has been holding you back. I’m beginning to think you should stay at headquarters on the Lord High Admiral’s strategic staff.”

Despite the compliment coming from Ludendorff, Valerie actually felt a glow inside. She’d always done well tactically. Why not strategically as well?

“I don’t get it, professor. Sometimes you’re great. Sometimes you’re the worst shit in the world. Why can’t you just pick one method so a person can figure out if you’re good or bad?”

“Because I don’t conform to your simple standards,” the professor said. “I’m much more complicated than that. It comes from being so wise and from living for so long.”

She nodded and couldn’t believe that she did. “Maybe you have a point.”

“I most certainly do.”

“Look, Professor, we have to jump and take a closer look. We came in the darter to get a job done. Now, let’s do it, and maybe the others won’t hate you as much.”

“I don’t care about them.”

Valerie heard something in the Methuselah Man’s voice that caused her not to believe what he’d just said. She was beginning to think that maybe the old sod did care, sometimes anyway, what others thought about him. Why had he come on the darter, and why had he put these collars around them?

Ludendorff had turned his back to her.

Valerie’s fingers itched. She yearned to jump up and charge him, clubbing him over the head. Then, while he was out—

The klaxon suddenly rang so loudly that Valerie had to clap her hands over her ears. She glanced at the board. To her horror, she saw ships appearing nearby—within one hundred thousand kilometers of the Reynard. She kept scanning, expecting to see saucer-shaped ships. Instead, six, triangular star cruisers were out there.

Lord Drakos had found them somehow.

-4-

“The darter is defective,” Ludendorff shouted. The Methuselah Man slid into the pilot chair, activating the fold mechanism. “This isn’t an experimental stealth ship, but a beacon vessel. How is it everyone sees us?”

“You don’t know? I thought you were a genius.” Valerie turned off the klaxon while sitting in the second seat. “Get Keith up here.”

“I’m quite capable of handling this myself, thank you.”

“You don’t get it, do you? That’s not how Captain Maddox operates.”

“Why would I give a fig how that pompous half-breed does anything?”

“Don’t call him that. You should respect the man who’s pulled your fat out of the fire so many times.”

“Bah!” Ludendorff spat. “What do you know? I’ve pulled his fat—a stupid metaphor—out of the fire more times than I can count.”

They stared at each other.

“You’d better not say it,” he warned.

Valerie might have smiled. She shook her head instead.

“We’re folding,” Ludendorff said.

The darter folded two AUs away from the appearing star cruisers, doing so while Jump Lag still gripped the enemy starships.

Once Valerie raised her head, she asked, “How does this little hop help us?”

“It gives me time to set a star-drive jump. We have to get far away from the star cruisers.”

“But if they can jump after us, tracking us down…?”

“I cannot believe they can track us that easily.”

“Their appearing here shows they can.”

“Confound it, girl. Can’t you shut up for just a minute? I’m making delicate adjustments.”

“You’re making my point. Keith is the pilot. Let the expert do his job so you can concentrate on yours.”

Ludendorff looked up. “That’s not bad thinking—wait, is that how Maddox does it? Well, that’s how you think he does it. The captain is not as capable as you think. He’s a good faker, though, and good at making people think he can do anything.”

“Why do you hate him so much?” Valerie asked. “Or is it simply jealously because he’s the di-far?”

“He is a pain, my dear, nothing more.”

“I’d say there’s a lot more. You hate him, and yet, I think you admire him, too.”

“Bah!” Ludendorff shouted. “Even a genius needs some peace and quiet if he’s supposed to think this through. Now, shut up.”

Valerie had a retort hot on her lips, but she realized her anger was getting the better of her. They were in a fix. If Drakos captured them—

“There,” Ludendorff said, as he made the final adjustments. “That should do the trick. I’m going to do a David and kill two birds with one stone.”

“A what?” she asked.

“Never mind,” he grumbled. “Just get ready to jump. This is going to be delicate. I don’t think Drakos will look for us there right away either.”

“You’re jumping to the Swarm base?”

Ludendorff gave her a stricken look. “Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe not. I’m for it. Should you alert Keith?”

“Don’t worry about him so much. Worry about the situation. I find that the crew of Victory is far too sensitive about each other. A little more—”

The darter jumped, and Ludendorff stopped talking, as both he and Valerie experienced mild Jump Lag.

Valerie came out of it faster, raising her head groggily. It was hard on a body to fold and jump too fast without rest. She was many times younger than Ludendorff. He might have the ability to age longer more gracefully, but his old body could not shake off Jump Lag as a younger one could.

She glanced at the slumped over Methuselah Man, and it struck her that Ludendorff had always been off the bridge when they jumped.

Valerie surged out of her seat. She looked out the polarized window, and she saw three streaks. She frowned, trying to understand what the three glowing streaks could mean. The sensors hadn’t come back online yet. Mechanical devices also experienced Jump Lag. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but it was still there.

Where had the old fool jumped to?

Get him, girl, she told herself. Do it while you have a chance.

Although groggy, she stumbled to him and almost threw him out of the chair. That might be a mistake, though. She reached into one of his jacket pockets and felt a small round disc. She pulled it out and debated pressing a button. There were several. Which one released the collar from her throat?

Valerie bit her lower lip. She didn’t dare experiment just yet; as she might accidently incapacitate herself. What should she do, then?

Ludendorff groaned, beginning to stir.

Valerie realized there was nothing else she could do but make her move while she could. Intertwining her fingers, she raised her combined fists and struck the back of his neck as hard as she could. The Methuselah Man grunted as he pitched out of the chair. His forehead struck the piloting panel. Valerie struck again, hitting the base of his head this time.

Ludendorff crumpled onto the deck, unconscious.

An alarm began to wail. Valerie knew what it meant without looking. The three trails she’d seen through the window must have been the missile exhausts, the three weapons hunting for them. The missiles must have proximity sensors and had spotted the darter.

Now, what was she supposed to do? Take care of the missile situation or make sure Ludendorff couldn’t do anything tricky? Normally, she would have dealt with the missile situation. Ludendorff had made her too angry over these last three weeks. If she died, so be it. She wasn’t going to let Ludendorff act like her lord and master anymore. She was getting rid of the collar.

Taking Ludendorff’s belt from his pants, she put his hands behind his back and tied them as tightly as she could. She divested him of all his little tools, trinkets and gadgets after that, tossing them across the compartment. A flat little blaster she kept for herself. She could get her beamer back later.

Finally, she studied the piloting board. The missiles had zeroed in on the darter, all right. This thing’s stealth field was obviously defective, as Ludendorff had suggested. It was an experimental vessel. Maybe they had done something wrong somewhere.

Valerie allowed the computer to make its calculations, then she launched the first of three antimissiles. It sped away at the approaching bug missiles.

Valerie recognized Swarm tech when she saw it. These had to be Thrax’s missiles from one of his ships that had escaped Alpha Centauri. Ship missiles must have supplied the missile base.

Okay, okay, she had to think. There was no sign she could see showing a new Swarm colony world. The Luna-sized moon had a missile installation. The base was guarding something, but just what she did not know. Looking closer had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now—

“We have to get out of here, pronto.”

Valerie kept her feet tucked away from Ludendorff’s prone body that lay before the pilot board. She studied the board and then leaned over and studied sensors. There was no sign of nearby saucer-shaped ships or star cruisers. She did not see anything close except for the three missiles and their launching installation. Could the missile base be hiding the colony world? Why had the bugs built a base on the Luna-sized moon and not the Earth-sized moon?

She shook her head.

While she did, she saw something through the sensors that frightened the heck out of her. A beam—a heavy laser—rayed the darter’s antimissile, burning it out of existence.

The heavy laser came from a turret that had appeared on the Luna-sized moon. The turret had risen from a metal platform in the ground, part of the platform having opened like a surface hangar bay door. The turret was part of the missile base.

A warning whine told her the installation had target lock on the darter.

“Forget it, Thrax,” she whispered. This time, she put her feet on Ludendorff’s prone body as her fingers blurred across the board. She wasn’t sure exactly how to do this, but she knew enough, setting in a star-drive jump, activating the engine—this was too soon to jump, for sure. Their bodies were still fighting off the other Jump Lags.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” she said, glancing down at his inert form. She breathed deeply.

The warning whine intensified. Another laser turret had appeared.

Valerie pressed a button. The laser beamed, and the little darter, the Reynard, jumped a moment before the beam hit the ship.

But something went wrong. She might have made a mistake, or the star-drive was too hot for them to successfully jump again so quickly. Also, Valerie had set the darter for a max jump, which might have strained the engine. Everything went dark, and that was the last thing Valerie remembered.

-5-

The last three weeks aboard Victory had been sober and filled with endless labor. The engineers and technicians worked around the clock trying to restore the two antimatter reactors. Andros had finally shuffled back to work. He had lost half his Kai-Kaus helpers, and that had pained him dearly. The remaining Kai-Kaus watched their Chief Technician closely, lest he overwork himself back into sickbay.

They could have used Ludendorff, but he had gone, and the darter hadn’t made contact with them since slipping away. But then again, maybe it was good the professor had left. With Maddox out, and Valerie and Keith gone, command of the starship was up in the air.

Galyan coordinated, and no one objected to anything the alien AI suggested.

Meta spent her time in medical, constantly at Maddox’s side. According to the chief medical officer, the captain was near death. The doctor had come to believe that Meta’s nearness, her lying next to the captain at times, stroking his cheeks at others, was all that was keeping him from slipping away.

“I can’t understand it,” the chief medical officer said, a tall, lean man. “There’s nothing physically I can find wrong with him. It’s as if he lacks the willpower, or some other power I haven’t been able to decipher, that is causing him to give up on life.”

“Ludendorff once called it a spiritual force,” Meta said.

The doctor shook his head. “That isn’t in any medical book I’ve read. Maybe you’re right, but Ludendorff is gone.”

“I know,” Meta said, resenting the professor more in this hour than ever before.

Riker spelled Meta the few times she needed a rest. The older sergeant spoke to the captain then, always coming away hoarse from those times.

The starship felt as if it were on a deathwatch, and they all hated that. Maybe the worst affected after Meta was Galyan, which seemed impossible. How could an AI feel so strongly? Whenever Galyan was around, he moped and drooped.

Meta spoke to Galyan about it. “Look, you won’t help the captain like that.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Isn’t there something in your Adok medical logs that will help?”

“I doubt it. I’ve checked all the file headings and they don’t say anything about a lack of spiritual will.”

“Well, check more. Check everything. I know you love the captain. He’s your best friend.”

“He is,” Galyan said.

“Then save him.”

“You will blame me if the captain dies?”

“No, Galyan. Of course, I won’t blame you.”

“Thank you, Meta. I would not want to continue if you truly thought like that. Out of all the people I call my friend, you are the kindest and sweetest.”

Meta shook her head, perplexed. “I would have never become like that if I hadn’t married Maddox.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I just know it’s true.”

“I would love to talk more, Meta. But I must retire to my memory banks. You are right. I could be working harder. I am going to work harder than I ever have before. I will save Captain Maddox yet.”

The holoimage vanished.

Meta wiped away a tear. How could a holoimage, an alien one at that, bring out the best in people? It truly was a mystery. She wished Doctor Dana Rich were here. Dana would know what to do.

Why was Maddox slipping away? A firming resolve filled Meta’s chest. She began hurrying back to medical. She was not going to let her husband slide soundlessly into the dark night. She was going to force him back into life—

Meta sprinted, fearing she might be too late.

The doctor gave her a frightened look as she ran into Maddox’s room.

“What is it?” Meta said. “Why do you look as if he’s dead?”

“He’s not,” the doctor said. “But he’s going to be in an hour if you don’t do something.”

“Leave the room,” Meta snapped.

“I can’t leave at a time like this.”

Meta rushed the doctor, manhandling him with her heavy-planet strength, and bodily threw him from the room, locking the hatch afterward. Then she turned back to her husband.

He lay so still on the cot, hardly breathing, his skin looking waxy as if he was already dead.

“No you don’t,” Meta said.

She moved beside the cot and looked down at him with such longing and love that it caused the captain to stir.

“That’s right,” Meta said, gripping the bedrail that Riker had bent three weeks ago. “Feel my love for you, husband. Let it fill you with strength. You mustn’t die, dearest. We love you so much. I love you with all my soul. I can’t live without you, darling. Oh, Maddox,” she sobbed.

Meta thrust herself onto his chest. She gripped him fiercely, and she sobbed against his chest. “Maddox, don’t die. Fight whatever is killing you. Regain your strength. Oh, darling, don’t leave me alone in this cold world. Please, my love, fight to live. Fight with all your strength. I beg you, fight!”

-6-

Did Meta know what to do on some intuitive level? Had love forged a bond that let her sense things in Maddox that another would never know? Or had it simply been the doctor’s words, his medical scanners seeing that Maddox was dying.

Whatever the case, something was happening to Maddox. His being, his self, was far away from his body. The spiritual wound first made by Maddox using the Builder weapon against the Ska those many years ago had bled even more of the special soul energy that used to bubble in abundance within the captain.

He drifted, had been drifting these past three weeks. Most of the time, he sensed nothing. He simply rested from life, from the dash of one problem after another. It felt so gloriously good to rest, to just float along doing absolutely nothing at all. His life had been one adventure after another. His boundless energy had partly come from the need to act so he didn’t have to think too deeply about…about…

Maddox drifted toward a dark abyss. He sensed it in this sleep universe. The abyss was cold and deep. It pulled him faster and faster toward it.

He shivered in this limbo. The abyss was not pleasant, but dark and deep and never-ending. If he plunged down into the abyss, he would never see the light of life again. He would die and possibly come out on the other side to whatever awaited a person after death. Did he know for certain that anything was on the other side?

God, Maddox said, the first word he’d thought in this realm since sinking into it.

So…it would be okay then to plunge into the dark abyss and die, leave the plane of existence that had become too difficult. The soul energy he used to have…he had very little left. Once it was gone, he would not have the willpower to live. Why not get it over with already? He was tired of doing, and he had rested enough. He wanted…he wanted…

“Maddox, my love,” a feminine voice drifted to him.

Maddox had the sense this voice and the feeling with it had been traveling to him for a long, long time.

“Maddox, my darling, I love you. Please don’t leave me.”

Maddox turned away from the abyss, the dark end of life. He bathed in the voice and the feeling of love that went with it. Oh, this was wonderful. How could he have forgotten this?

“Wife,” Maddox said in the limbo realm.

That was Meta calling to him. He recognized her, and he realized that if he plunged down into the dark abyss that he might never see his love again. That put such a terrible pain in his chest that he could hardly endure it.

Without realizing it, Maddox drifted away from the abyss and back toward a great, diffuse light that meant life and breathing and pain and love and anguish and joy and—

“I can’t,” Maddox said. “I can’t go back. I lack the strength.”

“Maddox!” the sweet voice called with such urgency. There was a longing in her love. There was a tenderness and need, and the love enveloped Maddox. It filled with him a new resolve. With the resolve, he drifted farther away yet from the black abyss of death.

Love, Meta loved him. He loved her. He could not bear to live without her. Once, he had been alone. He had been okay with being alone. Life seemed normal, and he had fierce competition to keep him occupied. That was enough—until he found Meta. And once he married her and learned how love grew…

A resolve, something different from grim resolve, but a resolve bolstered by his love for Meta, and a willingness to fight harder for her than he had ever fought before gave him a greater power than he believed he possessed.

He floated away from the abyss, breaking its drawing power. Maybe there would be a different day he would go over the edge and plunge into the abyss, but it would not be this day. Today, he would continue to fight.

The Maddox in this limbo realm frowned. There was a great fog bank ahead. It was different from the rest of the whiteness of this place.

“Mother?” he asked.

The fog brightened, and it beckoned.

What would the fog have to do with his mother?

Maddox’s eyes narrowed, at least he conceived of his eyes narrowing. Now that he was no longer obsessed with dying, he sensed other worries and fears swirling around him.

Was the fog a trap? He didn’t think so. Maybe it was mere blockage trying to keep him from Meta. Maddox chuckled to himself. As if that was going to happen.

Maddox lowered his head, as he conceived of it, and he charged like a stampeding bull at the bank of bright fog.

-7-

Maddox was a young boy in a school full of boys bigger than he was. This school wasn’t on Earth, but on Io, in Jupiter’s planetary system. He was ten, and he had almost forgotten about his time here. He’d been alone for a while already—the limbo dream realm—but that had begun to make no sense now that he was here again. This wasn’t just any school, but a place for rich men’s troubled sons. Who was paying for him to be there, and why didn’t he know the person’s name?

There were only a few teachers, and they were older men quick to use a switch on anyone causing trouble in class or on the playground. Old Arbush kept order in the sleeping barracks. He’d been a Star Watch Space Marine, and knew something about keeping order, all right.

Despite the supervision, Omar from Aden Satellite and Ivan the Terrible from Castillo were thirteen-year tyrants who made life hell for the rest of the boys, including Maddox. Omar and Ivan bullied them all, and that included at night while Arbush snored in his office. Lately, the two had become worse with their depredations as each showed the rest of the boys the hair sprouting on their chins.

“We’re becoming men, you dolts,” Ivan told a pack of the younger kids, with Maddox standing in back. “That means you scum have to do exactly as we say, or you’ll wish you had.”

Maddox had been a loner even then. Even at ten, the others could tell he wasn’t like them. He was tall and skinny and could do more pushups than even Ivan the Terrible could, although Ivan could bench press more.

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 bathe 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.”

“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 a 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.

Meta had left some time ago. She now returned, placing a tray of bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast on a stand before him.

“Sourdough toast,” Meta said, “two eggs medium, crispy hash browns and jalapeno-flavored bacon.”

Maddox did not feel hungry, but he ate half the plate to make Meta happy, although he couldn’t even finish all the jalapeno bacon.

Meta noticed, and that confirmed for her that her love should go to the alien sculpture for healing—if it could do it, which seemed far-fetched. But what else was left at this point?

“I have to talk to the Lord High Admiral,” Maddox said.

“Could Drakos hack a long-range message?” she asked.

“Eh?” asked Maddox.

“You told us that such a hack was possible.”

“When did I say that?”

“You don’t remember the conference room speech?”

Maddox sighed. He was too tired. He wasn’t sure he could do this after all. Yet, the others were counting on him. If he couldn’t fix this, who could? Valerie, Keith and Ludendorff were gone, possibly dead. Meta, Riker and Galyan…

“We have to go to this alien sculpture,” Meta said.

Maddox looked up. “You think it’s still there after all this time? It has to be over six thousand years old, older because Galyan hinted that it was ancient even back then.”

She shrugged. “I have no idea if it’s there or not.”

“You think Galyan’s miracle cure will work?”

“Husband, I see that you haven’t finished your bacon and there’s still egg yolk on your plate. You always mop that up with the hashbrowns or bread. You haven’t finished any of that. You’re having trouble making decisions. Yes, I think we should risk the sculpture.”

“It’s an implausible idea.”

Meta shrugged again. “We’ve done many implausible things before. Why not one more to see if we can get you back on your feet?”

Maddox stared at the deck. He was sitting in a wheelchair. That was no good. Maybe his wife had a point. But to go eighty-three light-years out of the way and then hurry back…

“Take me to the long-range Builder comm chamber,” he said.

***

Maddox still sat in the wheelchair. He’d eaten half his breakfast and felt awful. He wanted to go back to bed and just sleep for another week.

“Here,” Meta said, picking up the microphone to the bulky comm device.

Maddox stared at his wife. He saw the longing in her eyes that he would just get better all ready. This moping around, this weakness—

With a grunt, he pushed out of the wheelchair and flopped onto a nearby sofa. He was exhausted, panting, with cold sweat making him shiver.

That made Meta look more worried.

“Give me that,” Maddox said crossly.

Mutely, Meta handed him the microphone.

He instructed her about how to manipulate the comm device’s controls. After a time, a stern old man spoke out of the speaker.

“This is the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch. Is that you, Captain Maddox?”

Maddox depressed the microphone control, trying to pump enthusiasm into his voice. “This is Captain Maddox.”

“My goodness, son, but it’s great to hear your voice. We were starting to get worried.”

Meta snapped her fingers, causing Maddox to lift his head.

Maddox scowled. He’d been drifting off. He clearly was in no condition to command Victory, let alone try to talk Cook into a course of action.

“Captain Maddox, is something wrong?” Cook asked.

Maddox closed his eyes, summoning his reserves of strength. He didn’t have any. He held the microphone loosely in his right hand. Omar and Ivan had been bigger, older and stronger than he had been. Yet, he had fought them. He would damn well fight this weakness, too.

Yet Maddox found no extra strength. Instead, he found mulish stubbornness. He simply refused to let weariness stop him. He would not try to pretend anymore. He was out of it, almost unconscious tired. But until he actually keeled over, he would make his mind work and talk the old man into the right course of action.

“Captain Maddox?” Cook asked. “Are you there? Why aren’t you answering?”

Maddox clicked the microphone control. “I’m here, sir. I’ve been thinking.”

“Are you okay, son? You sound sick.”

“I’m in command of Victory, sir.”

“You’re not well, are you?”

“No, sir, I’m hurt. We’re in trouble, but we have an opportunity to finish the Thrax problem.”

“You’ve found the new Swarm colony world?”

“No, sir, but we’ve found something.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Meta is going to explain our recent troubles and successes, sir.”

“What?” Cook asked.

Meta was shaking her head.

Maddox thrust the microphone at her.

Reluctantly, she took it and told the Lord High Admiral about the incident with the hardliner New Men, the explosion at the Builder base and Ludendorff taking the darter to explore the traces of “E” radiation. Finally, she handed the microphone back to Maddox.

“Is the captain there?” Cook asked.

“Here,” Maddox said.

“Soul energy?” asked Cook.

“That’s right, sir,” Maddox said.

The Lord High Admiral sighed into his microphone hundreds of light-years away. “This is a fine fix, son.”

“I know.”

“Why did you call me?”

Maddox wanted to rest and think. He could no longer afford that. Taking a long, throat-rattling breath, he depressed the microphone trigger and spoke slowly into it.

“Sir, I think the odds are high that we found the bug location. That means it’s time to take a calculated risk. Clearly, Lord Drakos came looking for Thrax. His strategy seems clear: combine the bugs and hardliners into one conquering fleet.”

“Or combine Thrax with all the New Men,” Cook said. “Maybe the division between softliners and hardliners is fake.”

“That is another possibility, but I doubt it.”

“Why’s that, Captain?”

“The hardliner-softliner split had been there from the beginning. I don’t think we’re seeing a long-term Throne World bluff. These are New Men, haughty, proud men. It makes sense there are divisions. At present, they lack a unified goal. Thus, they do what humans have always done. They bicker among themselves.”

“There is some truth to that,” Cook said.

Maddox’s head lowered. His throat was so dry. He raised his head and clicked the microphone, taking a wheezy breath. “Star Watch is weaker than it has been for a long time, sir. We have to take a risk and hope we guess right.”

“That’s one way to do it,” Cook said. “But let me paint you a picture. Suppose they have compromised you, son. Maybe you’re so tired because Drakos caught and broke you. It took almost everything out of you, and now you’re trying to convince me to split humanity’s weakened forces.”

“That is a possibility, sir, but that isn’t the case.”

“How can I know that?” asked Cook.

“You can’t,” Maddox said flatly. “You have to trust your gut, sir. I would trust mine.”

“What would you do in my place?”

Maddox nodded painfully. “I would trust the local forces throughout the Commonwealth to hold down their own planets for a time. Then, I would gather enough warships to send a powerful fleet out into the Beyond. It has to be strong enough to destroy one hundred and sixty bug saucers combined with…let’s say twenty stealth star cruisers.”

“That would take a sizable fleet, at least two hundred major warships, possibly more.”

“To destroy the enemy hard and fast, yes,” Maddox said.

“I can’t afford to send two hundred such warships,” Cook said. “I could barely scrape together one hundred in a fleet I’m sending deep into the Beyond. Star Watch certainly cannot afford heavy losses.”

“You could call the Throne World and ask for an alliance.”

“And if this is a New Man trick?” Cook asked.

“Then it worked,” Maddox said. “But like I told you, sir, it’s not a trick. I bet the Emperor would love to get rid of Drakos. Remember, I talked to one of the Throne World’s operatives in the Vega casino. I gave him the Spacer Vint Diem and he gave me the information we needed to come out here and stop Drakos.”

“I haven’t forgotten the incident,” Cook said.

“Together, Throne World New Men and Star Watch could wipe out the Swarm threat growing in our backyard.”

“We don’t know that Thrax will take Drakos’s offer.”

“Even if he doesn’t, sir, Thrax is still here or somewhere out here. Maybe Thrax will look for a way to get back to the Swarm Imperium. What better way than to act like a staging area for the Imperium in a third invasion attempt?”

“Those are a lot of ‘ifs,’ Captain.”

“I know, sir.”

“I need to think about this.”

“I don’t blame you, sir. But it would be good to consider this. It will take time to bring a fleet way out here—”

“I don’t need a lecture on strategic timing, son,” Cook said coldly.

Maddox didn’t reply.

“You haven’t asked about the Iron Lady,” Cook said a few second later.

“Is she well, sir?”

“She is, and I’m sure she would attempt to convince me we should do this your way.”

“It isn’t my way, sir. I think it’s our only chance. We don’t want to wait for Drakos and Thrax to join forces and time their attacks against the Commonwealth. They haven’t met yet. So, now is the time to strike before they’re ready. If we have Throne World help, all the better.”

“You were supposed to take care of this, Captain.”

“I know, sir. I still might.”

“You’re going to that alien sculpture while the Commonwealth itself might be on the line?”

“I’m dead beat, sir. I need to regain what I lost. Maybe Galyan is onto something.”

“Or it might be a complete waste of time. I might relieve you of command and put someone else in charge of Victory. The Commonwealth is more important than your health.”

“Yes, sir, you might well relieve me.”

“Would you relay that order to your crew?”

Maddox stared at Meta. She looked at him helplessly.

“Captain,” Cook said, “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“Well, sir,” Maddox said, “I would have to be convinced that I’m really speaking to the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch. Then, I would have to believe that no one is holding a gun to your head to say that.”

Several seconds passed.

“I’m not going to give that order,” Cook said. “Because I finally believe I’m talking to the real Captain Maddox, and that you’re still a free will agent. In other words, son, that sounds like you. I will ponder your advice and give you an answer in a few days. Until then…”

“Yes, sir?” asked Maddox.

“Use your judgment, Captain. It’s been good in the past. Admiral Cook out.”

Maddox handed the microphone to Meta. She hung it back in its place on the bigger, bulky long-range Builder comm device.

Meta looked up to ask her husband how he was able to say what he had. But Maddox’s head had drooped, and he was already snoring.

-10-

Aboard the Agamemnon, Drakos was in his command chair, witnessing the darter escaping the Swarm heavy laser beam.

The three missiles that had moved toward the darter’s new position near the Luna-sized moon, now re-targeted yet again. This time, the three missiles turned toward the flotilla of six star cruisers and continued accelerating.

Something or someone must have realized three missiles weren’t going to cut it against six star cruisers.

Nar Falcon reported a sensor sweep from the missile installation on the moon. He added that a war computer or possibly a command center made the decision. From the moon, twenty-three more missiles launched, adding to the three already in the lead.

“The Swarm respects our star cruisers, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

“So it appears,” Drakos said. “Is there any trace of the Star Watch scout?”

“None, lord. Our sensors indicate they used a star-drive jump to escape.”

“It’s what I would have done in their place,” Drakos said to himself. “That means someone intelligent made a quick decision. Could Maddox have been aboard the scout?”

“I would assign that a low probability, lord.”

“As would I,” Drakos said. He drummed the fingers of his left hand on an armrest. “We will retreat for the present.”

Nar Falcon’s head snapped up. Drakos noticed, and he noticed that some of the other bridge personnel noticed. Not everyone under his command had a brain implant. He needed regular New Men aboard, warriors who thought like him. Nar Falcon was one of those.

“What is it?” asked Drakos.

“Do you think Commander Thrax is nearby?” Nar Falcon asked.

“I think I want all twelve of our star cruisers together before I meet with Thrax.”

“Sir,” another sensor operator said.

Drakos swiveled his chair to face the operator. “Report.”

The New Man remained stoic, although his news was momentous. “Lord,” he said, “there are thirty saucer-shaped ships to our left and another thirty appearing to our right.”

“Are they emerging from stealth mode?” Drakos asked.

“I do not believe so, lord. The indicators suggest they’re coming out of star-drive jump.”

“I see,” Drakos said, his gut tightening.

“Lord, there are more appearing. It seems they are attempting englobement.”

Englobement was a battle tactic for space. Since space was even more a three-dimensional battlefield than the sky on old Earth—as gravity did not constantly drag down in space—the only way to truly surround an enemy force was to encircle him from above, from below, and from all sides. That was englobement.

“Nar Falcon,” Drakos said. “Alert the other star cruisers. We are going to use the star-drive jump. Give them these coordinates.”

Drakos instructed Nar Falcon, who passed the coordinates along to the other star cruisers’ bridge crews.

“The enemy ships are closing in, lord,” the second sensor operative said.

Drakos nodded, half-smiling to himself.

“Lord,” Nar Falcon said. “I am detecting a field I’ve never seen before.”

“From the Swarm vessels?” asked Drakos, suddenly alarmed.

“Affirmative, lord.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of field they’re generating?”

“I believe I do, lord,” Nar Falcon said. “It appears to be an anti-star-drive-jump field.”

Drakos swiveled his chair to fully regard Nar Falcon. “This is a new type of energy field.”

“Agreed, lord.”

“A new field,” Drakos said to himself. “That would imply that Thrax has found new technology. I do not deem it likely they have been performing R&D on their own while trying to build a new colony.”

Nar Falcon didn’t respond to the thought.

“They’re powering up their laser cannons,” the second sensor operative said, studying his board.

“It appears the darter barely got away in time,” Drakos said, refusing to show fear in face of the enemy.

“Your orders, lord?” Nar Falcon asked.

“Yes,” Drakos said, standing, approaching the main screen. “Use the Swarm tongue, the little we know. Hail Commander Thrax Ti Ix. Tell him we’re interested in opening negotiations for an alliance.”

Nar Falcon licked his lips as his fingers blurred across his board.

Drakos turned toward the second operative. “Are the Swarm saucers still closing?”

“Yes, lord,” the second operative said.

“Charge the disrupter cannons,” Drakos said in a calm voice. “Raise the shield. Make sure the other star cruisers are doing likewise.”

“What are we going to do?” the operative asked.

“Do?” asked Drakos, as he raised an eyebrow. “If it comes down to it, we shall fight.”

“But we’re surrounded.”

“Exactly,” Drakos said. “It means our targets are coming to us en masse. It will be impossible for us to miss.”

Several bridge personnel chuckled in appreciation of their lord’s calm.

“Lord,” Nar Falcon said. “A Swarm creature wishes to address you.”

Drakos indicated the main screen. He’d been waiting and hoping for this. To die uselessly galled him. To be caught so easily by the bugs infuriated him. But he would be damned if he showed any of that on his face. He was a superior. Such things did not distress a man who knew himself.

“Is this the New Man commander of the pathetically small fleet?” an ugly Swarm creature said from the main screen.

Drakos eyed the bug, the Swarm creature. It was as large as an Earth cow but looked much like an intelligent ant. It had an ant’s body, with mandibles instead of teeth, antennae, and six big insect-like legs. This one looked like a soldier bug. But, then all of Thrax’s hybrids looked like that. The Builder on the Dyson Sphere had made a new type of Swarm creature, one that combined the good qualities of brain and brawn.

“I am Lord Drakos, the commander of Flotilla One dash One.”

He noticed that the bug touched a box around his thorax. The box blinked, perhaps translating his words into clicks and clacks that a bug could understand.

The mandibles moved. The thorax box blinked again, and from it came the robotic words: “I am Sub-Commander Tabanus Lex of the Royal Fleet of Supremacy Thrax Ti Ix the First.”

“Ah, Supremacy Thrax,” Drakos said. “That is a mighty title indeed.”

Again, the translator box blinked.

“I am unused to your mammalian language,” Tabanus Lex said. “I believe supremacy assigns the proper meaning to Thrax’s new rank.”

“I’m sure it does. Now, tell me Sub-Commander, why are your ships blocking my flotilla’s passage?”

Tabanus Lex clacked the pincers of his two front legs. “You are surrounded. You will surrender immediately and prepare for boarding.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“Then, I will order the ships to open fire and you will die.”

Drakos shrugged. “We all die eventually. The glory is in going out with style and courage.”

“Your meaning is nonsense. How can dying here and now serve your hive?”

Drakos eyed the Swarm creature. Tabanus Lex must have fought in the Alpha Centauri System, and in all the other battles before that. He would understand the difference between superiors and subhumans. This was a game. Was the Swarm creature attempting to stall, or did it really think that superiors of the Throne World would surrender?”

“I suggest you relay a message to your supremacy,” Drakos said. “This is a priceless opportunity for him and…for your hive.”

“State your message.”

“I will, to Supremacy Thrax.”

“He has ordered your surrender or destruction. There will be no further talk.”

“Don’t you want your hive to live?” Drakos asked.

“It is alive, as we are here.”

“That isn’t the question I asked.”

“Then, I do not understand you, mammal.”

“That’s my point,” Drakos said. “I’m offering Supremacy Thrax the opportunity to grow larger than the Imperium back in the Sagittarius Arm.”

“That is impossible.”

“It is for you now,” Drakos said. “That’s why my offer is so unique. If you kill me, you will kill the information I offer.”

The image wavered as Tabanus Lex disappeared from the main screen. In the creature’s place was a new monster. This one looked like a giant praying mantis, with dangling tools and weapons clinking from a harness attached to his abdominal region.

He clicked his pincers impatiently as a translator box blinked on his thorax. “This is Supremacy Thrax Ti Ix. You are a golden-skinned devil, a New Man in the mammalian idiom. State your purpose. Afterward, you and all your New Men confederates will die.”

-11-

Drakos hid a secret smile as he bowed his head toward the so-called Supremacy Thrax. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Commander Thrax.”

“Sub-Commander Tabanus Lex has given you my new title. It is imperative that you use it.”

While keeping his eyes on Thrax, Drakos walked backward until he reached his command chair. He sat down and rested his left ankle on his right knee.

“Is that meant as a sign of disrespect?” asked Thrax.

Drakos thought about the translator box. According to his intelligence file, didn’t Thrax know the Human Tongue? Drakos believed so. Thus, Thrax surely used the translator box in order to enhance his royalty or status among the listening bugs.

“I am unused to such disrespectful behavior from a mammal,” Thrax said, perhaps growing impatient. “Therefore—”

“Supremacy,” Drakos said, interrupting the bug. “No disrespect is intended.” That was a lie. Many of his actions right now had a disrespectful intent. He was Lord Drakos of the Throne World, one of the highest-ranked superiors. A mere bug, a hive creature, could not compare to him. He was here to use Thrax, not play servitor to a murdering insect, no matter how many attack saucers the bug commanded.

“You have a strange way of convincing me of that, human.”

“We are…different species, Supremacy. Perhaps we seem strange or even offensive to each other. That does not mean we cannot assist each other in achieving our greatest goals.”

“You expect me to believe that you’re here to aid me?” asked Thrax.

“I’ve searched for your whereabouts a long time.”

“The scout craft was the first of your ships I’ve seen.”

“The scout did not belong to me.”

“Who, then?” asked Thrax.

“Star Watch.”

The giant praying mantis-like creature clicked his pincers, which seemed like a nervous action. “You guided Star Watch to my hive?”

So, Drakos told himself. The hive is in this binary system. How very interesting and useful to know.

“Star Watch wishes to thwart me,” Drakos said. “Thus, they want to destroy you before we can ally.”

The pincers clicked again. “The Throne World and Star Watch allied against the Imperium. You assisted the Imperium’s enemies and helped destroy the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021. How can you possibly think that I will believe you wish to aid me now?”

“Times change,” Drakos said. “Besides, I have intelligence data concerning you and the Imperium hierarchy. The Imperium did not and does not love Commander Thrax Ti Ix.”

“I am Supremacy Thrax Ti Ix. I will not remind you again.”

Drakos dipped his head. His approach wasn’t mere arrogance. To come pleading to Thrax would only invite ruin. He needed Thrax to believe he had more power than he did. This approach would help Thrax believe that, and that would help convince the bug to throw his fleet into the fray for him.

“Supremacy, the Imperium invaded Human Space with great mass, this Conquering War-Fleet 1,021. It is my understanding that you gave the Imperium Laumer Point and hyper-spatial tube technology. Without the technology, the Imperium could never have launched the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021 at us.”

“What of it?”

“Did the Queen reward your effort?”

On the main screen, Thrax drew up to his full height. “Do you think to question me as if I’m the scum of the stellar lanes?”

“On the contrary, Supremacy, I had hoped to show you that I have done my homework. I had hoped by this demonstration to show you that I understand the gross injustice the Queen of the Imperium and the Builder of the Dyson Sphere have put upon you.”

“That is ill-considered,” Thrax said. “I have built a new hive. I rule supreme in this part of space.”

“Let us put aside then the injustice of the Imperial Queen toward you. You’ve hit the key point. Have you really built a new hive, Supremacy?”

“Do you dare to address me as a liar?”

“On no account, Supremacy,” Drakos said. “I realize you have a built an outpost and placed defensive installations around it. I realize you have likely kept your attack saucers in good repair. Does that make a hive, however?”

“I know you humans. Do not think I don’t. I was born on the Builder Dyson Sphere of which you speak. I understand what the Builder did very well. I destroyed him, after all, with a carefully laid long-term plan. Then, I used his high technology and offered the Imperium greatness. In their conceit, they relegated me to an insignificant position. That is why their invasion failed.”

“Oh?” asked Drakos, to stall and think. What was the bug trying to tell him?

The pincers clicked and clacked in agitation. “I rule here,” Thrax said at last.

“Yes, but does that make your world a hive?”

“You are testing my patience, mammal. You live this moment at my suffrage. One word from me and your six paltry vessels are destroyed.”

Drakos sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“What is that?” Thrax demanded, “Another disrespectful gesture?”

“No,” Drakos said, regarding Thrax again, thinking as fast as he could. “I’d thought you would understand what I’m trying to say. Surely, you understand that once the darter returns to the Commonwealth—”

“Darter, what is a darter?”

“The scout craft your laser turrets failed to destroy.”

“More insults,” Thrax said. “Don’t think I don’t understand your slurs. Yes, the laser turret failed. The darter fled—ah, now Star Watch will send a fleet, yes?”

“Star Watch has to,” Drakos said. “Humans fear the Swarm. They fear what you will do.”

“But I plan nothing against them.”

“What about the future?” Drakos asked, finally seeing how he could convince Thrax.

On the main screen, Thrax leaned back, eying Drakos with obvious ill intent. “Say your words. You clearly have some hidden meaning.”

“Indeed, I do, Supremacy. It is the reason I have taken so much effort to find you. You call me a New Man. In reality, what you mean is that I am superior to the submen that rule Star Watch. I, and those like me, have become greater. How did we achieve this?”

“I grew up on the Builder Dyson Sphere. The Builder modified humans, turning them into what you call Methuselah Men. Two of those genetically manipulated your kind, turning regular humans into New Men, greater men.”

“Exactly,” Drakos said, no longer crossing his legs but peering at the giant bug.

“What does that have to do with me?” asked Thrax.

“The Builder not only modified humans, but Swarm creatures as well. You and your hybrids are the product of that.”

“This I know, and this I despise.”

Drakos tried to keep the excitement from his voice. “In the interest of helping you, may I know why you despise this?”

“I am different from regular Swarm creatures,” Thrax said coldly.

“You are better,” Drakos said.

The pincers clacked. “Yes. Perhaps that is so.”

“How can you possibly deny it?”

The praying mantis-like eyes fixed on Drakos. “How is it you can know our secret? That is what you are saying, I think.”

“I deduced your secret logically, Supremacy.”

Thrax bobbed up and down, finally saying, “We have no queen. We are sterile.”

“Thus, you are a military outpost that will only survive for your lifetime. After that, you and all that you created here will perish. Is that a hive, Supremacy?”

“No,” Thrax said.

Drakos hesitated as elation filled him. Here was the moment he had dreamed about for so long. Here was the instant that would change the destiny of Lord Drakos. Here was the moment he would turn from being a fugitive to becoming the greatest conqueror ever.

“Supremacy, what would you do if I told you I could give you a queen?”

Thrax grew very still. Then, a sense of great menace radiated from him. “You wish to supplant me with a Swarm queen?”

“No, Supremacy. I mean to give you a different kind of queen altogether. This queen would not rule as the Queen of the Imperium does. This queen would breed and produce Thrax offspring to populate the universe. I would teach you how to remain alive for century upon century, with these new subservient queens doing your bidding as you conquered a greater Imperium than the present Imperium.”

“You speak as if there would be billions, even trillions of these soldiers.”

“That is so, Supremacy.”

Thrax shook his praying mantis-like head. “How is this possible for a New Man?”

“Ah,” Drakos said. “That is the question, is it not, Supremacy? It is possible. I have the answer. All I ask is that you do me a slight favor in return.”

“What favor?” asked Thrax.

“Perhaps this is the wrong time and place to discuss that. Perhaps we should return to your…outpost, remaining hidden that way in case other scouts or starships appear.”

“You will surrender, then?”

“No, Supremacy, but I will come as a guest, provided you can give me the proper guarantees for our survival.”

“What guarantees do you desire?”

Drakos nodded as a feeling of greatness spread throughout his person. This was going to work. He could sense it. He had logically deduced Thrax’s great need, and he had just as logically determined the answer. Now, it was simply a matter of implementing the plan, and staying alive as he did.

“I’m waiting,” Thrax said.

Drakos began to tell him, wondering if the bug was wise enough to see that this was the opportunity of a lifetime, and for a new era.

-12-

Over three hundred light-years away, Mary O’Hara chafed in her new surroundings. Back on the island, she had been free to do as she pleased. Here in the spaceship in Earth orbit, she felt hemmed in and claustrophobic. Scientists studied her, likely to determine if she was secretly controlled or not. She had grown weary of them, even as she was grateful that the Lord High Admiral was searching for a cure. He needed her. He had told her that Star Watch needed her.

Mary sighed as she knitted a woolen hat for Captain Maddox. Most of all, he needed her. She could sense it. Was that so strange, really? She didn’t think so.

She sat in an open room with soft sofas and a holo-drama playing to the side. She was the only one in here. She didn’t watch the drama, although she listened to it from time to time. It was an ancient drama about times in Old England after the First World War. It was about the aristocracy upstairs, and the servants who lived downstairs. It was quaint after a fashion. Mary would get angry with herself for paying it far too much attention. It wasn’t reality, but a soap opera. Of course, that meant that people watched and liked it, as most people enjoyed soap opera dramas. Even the former head of Star Watch Intelligence did.

Mary sighed, setting the knitting needles and partial woolen hat onto her lap. She could feel the constant vibration of the starship’s engines. It was a prison ship, in the end. The Lord High Admiral had told her—

The hatch swished open and two hard-eyed security men stepped into the chamber. Mary examined them. These two were in their early thirties, and they had the feel of men who would murder their mothers if their commander gave the order.

The Lord High Admiral stepped into the chamber next. As he did, the two security men put their gun hands on their holstered weapons. Whom did they fear? Her? That was preposterous.

Tall, old Cook in his white admiral’s uniform eyed her from the hatch. “Brigadier, would you come with me, please?”

“Admiral,” she said, not moving from her sofa. “Why do you bother with my title? I’m not on active duty.”

The white-haired admiral stared at her. There was something about the scrutiny that disturbed the former Iron Lady.

Mary sighed once more, putting her needles, ball of woolen thread and hat aside. She stood. She wore a nice yellow print dress with flat-soled shoes. It was a simple outfit.

“I could use a uniform,” she said.

The admiral did not smile or nod. His two goons continued to watch her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I want to talk to you,” Cook said.

“So talk. What’s wrong with this place?”

“Don’t make me order these men to frog march you.”

“Oh, very well,” Mary said. “You’re making a production about something. I hope it’s worth it to you. I’m sick to death of my confinement. Maybe you should just let me go back to the island.”

“No,” he said.

Mary fluttered her fingers and smoothed her dress. She had gained weight on the spaceship. She didn’t exercise as much as she had on the island. Someone at her age really needed to keep fit. She made a mental note of that, determined to keep fit. Who knew, maybe she could do a Captain Maddox and take over the spaceship. Now, wouldn’t that be something?

As soon as she reached the admiral, the two goons sprang into action, surrounding her.

“This is a formality,” Cook said. “Please don’t resist.”

The goons frisked her. It was quite indecent of them to do that to her.

“Really, Admiral,” she said. “I must protest.”

“This is a formality,” he repeated.

“Who insisted on this? Stokes?”

“She’s clean,” one of the security goons said.

“You can follow,” Cook told them.

The bigger of the two goons nodded curtly.

“Come, Brigadier,” Cook said. “I’m in something of a hurry.”

“Oh my, a hurry,” she said sarcastically, following the admiral as he exited the chamber. The admiral walked quickly, and she had to trot to follow. The two security men easily kept up behind her. Yes. She was going to have to exercise more. Why, back on the island this pace would have been nothing. It was strange how quickly one fell out of shape, especially at her age, maybe at any age. The human body was made to use, and worked best when active.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Shut up and keep up,” the admiral said over his shoulder.

Mary might have huffed and puffed at the indignity of the answer, but her old Intelligence mind began clicking. What was going on here? The admiral was up to something. That was obvious. She needed to decipher his actions. The two security men…

Maybe somebody or a powerful group of somebodies did not like the Lord High Admiral keeping her on the spaceship. Maybe Cook had to keep those powerful people at bay regarding her, and he did that with these two security men. They had not spoken to her or hardly looked at her. They treated her as a dangerous terrorist. Well, by golly, maybe she was dangerous. She knew more secrets than anyone, and she knew how to run the best Intelligence organization in the universe.

The pace soon began to tell on her, unfortunately. She was gasping and worse, sweating.

Mary forced herself to increase her pace until she walked step for step with the old gentleman of Star Watch. He gave her a side-glance, said nothing, but there was something that felt like satisfaction from him. Had he wanted her to catch up like this?

They entered a lift that took them down to a hangar bay. An armored shuttle waited.

Mary halted, looking carefully at Cook. “Where are you taking me?”

“To my flagship,” Cook said.

“Why?” she asked.

“Don’t you trust me, Brigadier?”

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

He almost smiled. “You wouldn’t be here except for me. You’d be in a much worse place than the island you keep talking about.”

“What’s on the flagship that isn’t here?”

“Wait and see, Brigadier. That’s my advice to you.”

She kept herself from glancing back at the security men, finally nodded and said, “Well, let’s get going then, shall we?”

-13-

The shuttle took them to the Sargon, a Conqueror-class Battleship with up-to-date disrupter cannons and high-energy shields. These cannons and shields had received augmenting from new heavy metal parts from the new mine in the Alpha Centauri planet taken from the androids after the last and rather short war.

The security men did not get off the shuttle. Space Marines now guarded her, or Cook, she supposed. They marched through the corridors and took two different lifts, finally entering a spacious chamber with couches built into the bulkheads. In the center of the chamber was a wet bar and snacks.

“Care for anything?” Cook asked.

Mary noted that the two of them were alone, as the Space Marines had failed to enter. She went to a couch and sat down, glad to be off her feet. “Nothing for me,” she answered.

“I need a whiskey on the rocks,” Cook said. He poured himself a shot over several ice cubes and threw it back, waiting and sighing afterward. He added another ice cube and poured himself another shot, taking it with him as he sat near her.

“You’re going to talk to me?” Mary asked.

“I’m seeking advice.”

“From a tainted source, right?”

“Right,” he said.

“Oh. Well… why bother talking to me then?”

He eyed her as he rolled the glass between his big hands. Finally, he took the glass and threw back the cooled whiskey. The big old man closed his eyes. “That’s so good,” he murmured.

When he opened his eyes, he smiled. It seemed like a whiskey-fueled smile.

“Drinking on the job, Admiral?”

“It’s good to hear your reproof, Brigadier. I miss it. You’re one of the few people who tell me what they really think to my face. I mean when they think I have a bad idea. Ever since the complications with the former Prime Minister, no one in the government or in Star Watch cares to contradict me.”

“No one?” Mary asked, with a sparkle in her eyes.

“You and Maddox,” Cook said grumpily.

“Then you’ve spoken to him?”

“I have.”

Mary’s stomach seethed with anticipation. She wanted to know everything. Instead, as an act of training or re-training, she forced herself to wait.

Cook nodded with approval, and he began to speak, telling her what Maddox had told him.

“He’s injured then?” she asked halfway through.

“It appears so.”

“Oh, I don’t like that. Did you tell him to hurry to this alien sculpture?”

“Certainly not,” Cook said, sounding indignant. “I think it’s a terrible idea.”

“Well, I don’t,” she said. “I hope he disregards your wishes in this.”

“Why?” asked Cook.

Mary noticed him lean toward her, and there was earnestness in the question. What did the admiral seek from her?

“Well,” she said, choosing her words with care. “Maddox has always been a loose cannon. He is uncommonly clever, sees and acts decisively. How many times has he pulled our irons out of the fire?”

Cook said nothing, and he didn’t look convinced.

“Why are the New Men such difficult opponents?” she asked. “It isn’t only because they act decisively. They…I’m not sure how to put this. They seethe with energy, think faster, harder, and no doubt more deeply. That must be a subset of their great energy. Maddox, he has much of that in him. It’s one of his secrets, I believe. It isn’t just his intelligence, but the zest with which he attacks life. He must be at his best to give us his greatness.”

“What the Spacers refer to as di-far?”

“In my opinion, yes,” Mary said.

“The alien sculpture as a supposedly spiritual healing device seems so…looney, farfetched.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t seem that way to you?” he asked.

“Of course, it does, but why is that?”

“I have no earthly idea, Brigadier.”

“Galyan and Maddox have performed impossible tasks. What is the old saying? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Let’s let these two do their thing.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said, “but you make a good point. What about Ludendorff? The Methuselah Man strikes me as mad.”

“According to Maddox, Ludendorff is out of the picture right now. I’m more interested in your response to Maddox’s idea about how to counter Drakos and Thrax. Are you going to call the Emperor as he suggested?”

The admiral faced the wet bar. It seemed as if he longed for another shot of whiskey. His big fingers twitched, but he didn’t get up.

“The Great Council is divided regarding the right course of action,” Cook finally said.

“You went all the way to the top with this?”

“I’m not in charge of the Commonwealth. I just run the military arm.”

“What did the Prime Minister say?”

“Your call, Admiral.”

“That’s it?” Mary asked.

Cook nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Make the call.”

“What?”

“The Prime Minister as good as told you to call. He said it’s your call. So, get on the Builder comm device and talk to the Emperor.”

“You know the Prime Minister didn’t mean that.”

“Do I?”

Cook grunted as he heaved up to his feet. He moved to the wet bar and poured himself a whiskey, neat. He looked at the amber liquid and finally sipped it, coughed, and sipped it again.

“I don’t know what to do,” Cook said, as he stared at the wet bar. “If you were back in the saddle, I would probably just accept your advice. How I wish you were still running Intelligence.”

“But I’m not,” Mary said.

He nodded.

“I don’t think I’m compromised like that, though. I think I could give away secrets to the wrong person. But in this, a strategic decision, I trust myself.”

He faced her. “If I call, and we’re wrong, the Commonwealth is doomed.”

“All the signs point to the hardliner-softliner division. Admiral, the New Men and Star Watch fought the Swarm together. One small part of the Swarm got away. Now, we have a chance to stamp it out. Take that chance and rid the Commonwealth of Drakos and Thrax. Besides, if we kill Drakos and many of the hardliners, that will weaken the Throne World.”

“Or strengthen it because they move again with one mind.”

“I suppose…” Mary said.

With a dramatic surging move, Cook swept the bottles and glasses from the wet bar. Some broke on the floor.

The hatch opened, and three Space Marines with drawn weapons jumped into the room.

“You three,” Cook said. “Escort the brigadier. She’s coming with us.”

“Where are we going?” Mary asked.

“Bring her,” Cook told the marines.

They hustled to her as Mary climbed to her feet.

The admiral stared up at the ceiling, seeming to refuse to look at the broken bottles or notice the whiskey odor. Like a stricken man, he marched for the hatch.

One of the marines grabbed one of her elbows, propelling her toward the admiral. For once, Mary did not protest. She had never seen the admiral like this. What did the old man intend to do to her?

-14-

The marines had left, no doubt standing guard outside the hatch. This was a smaller room, holding a long-range Builder comm device. It was a replica in most ways of Maddox’s device aboard Victory.

The Lord High Admiral sat behind a large desk holding the bulky item. Mary sat on a chair brought in for the occasion.

“Why am I here, Admiral? This seems…odd, given my recent treatment.”

The old man snorted sourly. “I’m surrounded by people but am quite alone, Brigadier. I run Star Watch, they say. The political authority has dumped this hot potato into my hands. Now, I must decide for the human race. I do not like such responsibility laid on my shoulders. I feel like Hercules tricked by Atlas.”

Mary shook her head, not understanding the allusion.

Cook noticed, saying, “In the Greek myths, the Titan Atlas held the heavens on his shoulders. One day, Hercules needed a favor that only Atlas could give him. Thus, Hercules agreed to hold up the heavens while Atlas performed this favor. On his return, Atlas told Hercules that he liked his freedom. He wasn’t going to take the heavens back on his shoulders.”

“Ah,” Mary said. “I see.”

“Luckily for Hercules, he was quick-witted. He agreed that it was a fine thing to be free. But Atlas of all people knew the heavy load of holding up the heavens. He thus asked Atlas to hold the heavens for just a moment as he put a cloak over his shoulders to soften the long duty. Atlas agreed, and once Hercules put the heavens back on the Titan’s shoulders, he waved goodbye and took his leave.”

“Is that what you’re doing by having me here?” Mary asked.

“No,” Cook said. “I decided a day ago that if I have to make the momentous decision, I’m going to ask the person or persons I trust. That ended up being you, Brigadier.”

“You flatter me, sir.”

“No. I know who to ask. Now, for all the marbles, Brigadier, should I call the Emperor and possibly rekindle the Great War between the Commonwealth and the Throne World?”

Mary looked down at her worn old hands. It was an honest and difficult question. Now that her words would influence what was about to happen…

“You won’t say?” he asked.

She looked at him, and noticed the weariness in his eyes. He’d been in the saddle for a long, long time and often been the one making the critical decision. It had clearly taken its toll.

“Make the call,” she said, not wanting to drag this out. “We both know it’s the logical move. If the New Men are in this together, it probably doesn’t matter. We will lose this time if they have Swarm assistance. If they are split into two parties, we have a real fighting chance. Maddox is right. We have to hit Drakos and Thrax before they can choose their time and place to attack us.”

“You think Thrax and Drakos can work together?”

“I think Drakos wants power more than life itself. If anyone can convince Thrax, I would bet on Lord Drakos.”

“Why him?” asked Cook, frowning. “You speak as if you know Drakos personally.”

Mary hedged, saying, “He ran the Bosks, Admiral. In a way, I do know him.”

Cook eyed her, and finally nodded. “Then, here we go, Brigadier. May God guide my words.”

“Amen to that,” Mary said.

The Lord High Admiral picked up the microphone, set the settings on the bulky device and made his call to the Emperor of the Throne World.

***

The long-range Builder comm device used its alien technology to send the call over one hundred light-years away. The signal sped faster than light because it bypassed that process.

The signal reached the upper atmosphere of an Eden like planet, going down to the Emperor’s Palace. He was in residence, luckily, and he took the call himself. Perhaps his Intelligence people had become worried at Drakos’s absence here or in the Commonwealth.

The golden-skinned superman clicked the microphone, answering the subman leader of Star Watch.

***

Back in Earth orbit aboard Battleship Sargon, Cook glanced at Mary. She smiled with encouragement.

“Emperor,” Cook said, “I would not have called, but I believe this is a critical moment for both of our societies.”

The New Man did not answer right away. Finally, he said in a bored voice, “It’s always critical with you people. What has happened now?”

Mary motioned to the admiral. The big old man frowned at her, finally nodding for her to proceed.

“Make him talk to you politely,” she whispered. She didn’t need to, as the admiral hadn’t clicked the microphone trigger again.

“Make him?” asked Cook.

“You’re the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch. You actually have more power than he does. He should speak to you in a respectful tone and use your title.”

“Is this the right time for insisting about that?”

“Most certainly,” Mary said. “Now more than ever.”

Cook hesitated. Did he wonder if this was Mary’s secret plan, to ignite a war with the Throne World by having him argue over rank and respect? Maybe he shouldn’t have brought her. Yet, whom else did he trust to know what they were talking about? Certainly not Stokes, her former underling.

“I am not in the habit of waiting for submen to respond,” the Emperor said.

“Yes, about that,” Cook said, avoiding looking at Mary. “One of your supermen is even now sabotaging both our societies.”

“I expect a different tone from someone calling on me for aid,” the Emperor said.

Mary started in surprise, and she waved for Cook’s attention.

“Just a moment please, Emperor. What is it now?” he asked Mary.

“Didn’t you catch it, sir?”

“Apparently not,” Cook said.

“Maybe it’s the alcohol dulling your senses,” she said.

“If you could make your point, Brigadier?”

“The Emperor just made a slip,” she said. “You’ve said nothing about asking for aid. Why then does he mention it?”

Cook scowled at her. “Would the Emperor of the Throne World make such a slip accidently?”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s clever, sir. You’re right. He wouldn’t. I think he’s prodding you. I think he may want this alliance just as badly as we do.”

Cook depressed the trigger switch. “Emperor,” he said. And he began telling the superman what Maddox had relayed to him. He went into detail, especially because the Emperor didn’t interrupt. Finally, Cook wound down.

“Your Captain Maddox is correct,” the Emperor said. “This is a highly dangerous situation for both our societies. Drakos is ambitious, clever and willing to act courageously on his convictions. What could he offer Thrax that would induce the Swarm creature? I don’t know, but I suspect Drakos has thought this out carefully. He will have an offer, and likely that means the attack saucers will join his star cruisers. Can Star Watch withstand such a combined assault?”

“The answer is yes,” Cook said.

“Is that so?” the Emperor asked softly. “Your Commonwealth has fought many battles since the last time we faced each other. Drakos and others have sown dissension everywhere, including igniting several rebellious sectors, stretching your military resources to the limit. I know about the Android War and the Grand Fleet’s assault upon the Forbidden Planet. Star Watch has bled each time and is hurting. Your society has taken many rapid blows, and submen are not as resilient as we are on the Throne World. I can see how you fear the Swarm attack saucers guided by Drakos’s genius. Perhaps you could defeat them, but it might be the last great pressure that would shatter the Commonwealth into many warring pieces.”

Cook gripped the microphone so hard that his knuckles whitened. He clicked the switch.

Mary was up and had crossed to him, putting a hand on one of his wrists. Cook glared at her. She shook her head emphatically. Slowly, Cook’s trigger finger lessened its pressure until the microphone switched off.

“You wish to add something?” the Emperor asked.

Cook stared at Mary O’Hara, his pulse quickened and his breathing faster than earlier.

“You remain silent,” the Emperor said. “I suspect hearing such harsh truths from me has offended you. I’d forgotten that you submen are touchy concerning your weaknesses. Perhaps you seethe with indignity that I could not only see such truths but utter them to you.”

“Now see here,” Cook said. “I’m not going to listen to your false platitudes. We beat you so-called supermen when you invaded the Commonwealth. You fled from us instead of taking a drubbing. I am the Lord High Admiral and demand that you take a more respectful tone when talking about us.”

“Demand?” asked the Emperor.

Mary was shaking her head, pleading with her eyes. The admiral should not have taken those whiskey shots before making the call. He was demanding respect, but doing it in too harsh a manner for a New Man to accept.

Cook breathed deeply, and there was something in his eyes as he spoke the Emperor again. “I’m sick and tired of your arrogant ways. It’s too much, far too much. Why can’t you try being civilized when I talk to you?”

There was a pause. Then, the Emperor said, “Lord High Admiral Cook.”

Mary’s eyes widened with astonishment as she stared at Cook.

The admiral appeared just as surprised, although he stared at the speaker on the bulky comm device as if he was staring at the Emperor.

“I recognize that submen—Star Watch officers—have their pride and dignity,” the Emperor said. “I am not actively attempting to prick it. Perhaps even yammering dogs can bark accurately regarding danger. I accept your call in the spirit it was made. Star Watch has worthy warships. If this Swarm remnant cuts loose with Lord Drakos’s aid…yes, that could be a danger even to the Throne World.”

“He’s thinking this through,” Mary whispered. “I bet he fears a successful Drakos gaining a greater following among the New Men. That might even topple an Emperor from his throne. Yet, if that’s true, just how many star cruisers can he afford to send with us?”

“What do you mean?” asked Cook.

“How many star cruiser crews are really softliners?” she asked. “Likely not as many as we could wish,” she added. “Likely, most New Men are in the middle. The Emperor must be a softliner, and he has power. But if the scales tip in Drakos’s favor…”

Cook clicked the microphone trigger. “I suggest Star Watch and the Throne World join forces. Let us each send a fleet and unite against Commander Thrax and his possible New Men allies.”

“I can send a flotilla, no more,” the Emperor said.

“May I ask how many star cruisers that is?”

“Fifteen,” the Emperor said crisply.

The admiral’s shoulders sagged.

“No,” Mary said. “Fifteen is excellent and far better than none. Their knowledge about Drakos may be far more important than extra warships, and they must have better tech at spotting stealth vessels than we do.”

Cook ingested her words before saying into the microphone. “I accept your offer, Emperor. Shall we set a time and date for our joint forces to meet?”

“I must gather the flotilla and speak to the captains. I’m sure you understand that I must—”

“Sorry to interrupt you, Emperor,” Cook said. “But I understand that even New Men practice politics, the art of the possible. I await your call, sir.”

“Yes…” the Emperor said. “Let it be so.”

-15-

Valerie raised her head groggily from the deck in the control room of the Darter Reynard. What had happened? Why did she feel so tired, so spent and hungry? She tried to push off the deck, but collapsed back, gasping for air. She felt weaker than she ever remembered feeling. This was crazy.

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Something had happened. It had to do with—

“Ludendorff,” she whispered.

Valerie opened her eyes, but it made no difference. It was still dark. That was wrong. She was in the darter…right!

The events playing up to this moment flooded back in a rush. The damned professor had screwed with the crew of Victory one more time.

Slowly, Valerie sat up against something. It must be dark because—

Fear and then terror surged through her. It was dark because the darter lacked power. She found that she was shivering. She figured that’s why she’d woken up now. It was too cold in here, and the air tasted stale.

Valerie felt around until she touched the cold body of Professor Ludendorff. Had she killed him? She felt along his body and finally found an arm, then a hand and searched for the wrist, feeling for a pulse.

She exhaled with relief. The pulse was slow, but the professor was still alive. She was about to slap his face a couple of times to wake him, when caution stilled her action. She didn’t want Ludendorff to die, but she didn’t want to wear the collar again. And she’d be damned if she was going to wake him up only to have him screw them over yet again.

Yet, if he died because of her lack of help—

Valerie shrugged. Then, the tricky bastard would finally get what he deserved. She would probably feel bad about it for the rest of her life, but oh well. Ludendorff acted like such a shit all of the time.

With the decision made, Valerie felt around until she found the pilot seat. She climbed into it and stared at the pitch-black controls. There were no lights anywhere, not even emergency lighting.

She paused but couldn’t even feel the engine purring. “Great,” she muttered. “Ludendorff has killed us.”

She frowned. Well, maybe to be fair, her actions—the need to flee—had something to do with the present situation. Ludendorff couldn’t take all the blame.

Valerie now began the long, slow process of crossing the cabin to the hatch. It was an even longer, slower process using the emergency crank working to open the pathway.

Maybe a half-hour later, she forced her way into Keith’s room. She felt around until she found him in bed. The man was naked under the covers.

“Keith,” she said, shaking him.

“Uh, what?” he asked. “Who’s there? I can’t see a thing, mate.”

“It’s me, Valerie.”

“He-he-he,” he laughed, sleep-lustfully. “Slipped into me room, have you, darling?”

“Keith, you idiot, we’re in dreadful trouble.” In a rush, she told him what had happened.

“Oh. That is bad,” he said, sounding more awake. “Here, just a minute. Let me find some clothes.” He rummaged around in the dark and soon declared he was ready. “I found this, too, love.”

He clicked a flashlight, bringing light to the room.

Valerie stared into Keith’s blond features, finding comfort there, and smiled so hard that her lips began to hurt.

“It’s going to be okay, lass,” he said.

“I hope you’re right. Now let’s see if we can get power back online.”

“I’m with you,” he said. “Let’s go.”

***

They found the engine on its lowest setting, which surprised them both. A little checking showed burned-out power lines to the rest of the ship. Had the last jump caused that?

“I can replace the lines,” Keith said, “if we have some spares.”

They found some, and Keith with Valerie’s help soon replaced the burned-out power lines.

Shortly thereafter, they switched on the lights and restarted the recycler. Warm, breathable air poured from the vents.

“Much better,” Valerie said, inhaling the fresh air deeply.

“Not bad work, eh?” asked Keith.

“You did—” Valerie’s eyes widened. “The control room, the professor—we can’t let him break free.”

The two ran down the short corridor and found Ludendorff in the lit control room, struggling with his bonds.

“Oh,” the professor said, upon spying them. “I don’t understand this. Look what happened to me.”

Valerie and Keith exchanged knowing glances.

“I’ll handle this,” Valerie said. “But take this.” She shoved a metal rod into Keith’s hands. She’d grabbed it in the engine room.

“What’s this for?” Keith asked.

“Stand behind the professor,” Valerie said loudly. “If he keeps trying to escape, bash him over the head with the rod.”

Keith stared at her in shock.

“On second thought,” Valerie said, grabbing the rod, tearing it out of his hands. “I’ll do it. I’m going to pay the bastard back for collaring us.”

“Now see here,” Ludendorff said, who had struggled up to a sitting position. “That’s a bad idea. My brain is all that has kept Star Watch alive these past few years. You don’t want to damage that.”

“Want to bet?” Valerie asked.

“I don’t know, Valerie,” Keith said. “Maybe the professor has a point.”

“He doesn’t. He put collars around our necks. He’s screwed up our entire mission—”

“The collars were a simple precaution,” the professor said in a reasonable tone. “I knew what needed doing and couldn’t let emotionalism stop us. Come now, Lieutenant Maker—”

“You know what he’s trying to do, don’t you?” Valerie asked, interrupting. “He’s trying to pit you against me. He thinks you’re the weak link between us.”

“Quite untrue,” Ludendorff said. “I think Lieutenant Maker is the reasonable one. I clearly can’t reason with you. Ah! Is it that time of the month, perhaps?”

“You insufferable swine,” she said.

Keith frowned as he looked at Valerie.

“What?” she snapped at him.

“Is it that time?” Keith asked quietly.

Valerie felt rage burn through her. She couldn’t believe this. “Is it that time of the month for you?” she countered.

“Huh?” Keith asked.

“All right,” she said. “I’m going to talk to Ludendorff alone. Why don’t you—” She almost said, “Why don’t you go to your room?” But Keith wouldn’t like that. “Why don’t you check the engine room and the power lines, make sure nothing is going to go wrong with them. Maybe figure out why they burned out in the first place.”

“I know why,” Ludendorff said.

“No one’s asking you,” she said.

“Maybe we should listen to what the professor has to say,” Keith suggested.

Valerie wondered suddenly what had happened to Keith’s collar. He hadn’t been wearing it when she’d woken him. Something was definitely off with Keith, and she could not figure it out. Valerie eyed him and then glanced suddenly at Ludendorff. She had touched Keith in the dark in the bedroom, and he hadn’t been cold, but warm like people were most of the time. Now—

“Lieutenant Maker,” Ludendorff said sharply. “I think this prank has gone on long enough. Valerie is under great stress. I believe it has unhinged her thinking—”

“Shut up!” Valerie shouted.

“Do you see what I mean?” Ludendorff asked Keith. “This is too much stress for her. You need to take charge of the situation.”

“Valerie,” Keith said, turning to her, and his right hand shot out, grabbing her left wrist, the one holding the steel rod. He seemed much stronger than she remembered. “I’m sorry about this love,” he said, “but—”

As Keith spoke, a terrible certainty overcame Valerie. At the beginning of the voyage, Ludendorff had let Keith and her see each other for a time. Then, the professor had made sure they did not see each other at all. Ludendorff must have had a reason for that. Keith had been warm in the bed all this time, while the rest of them had become cold. Also, she suddenly realized, when had Keith learned how to fix nuclear engine power lines? And when had he gotten so strong?

As Keith grabbed her left wrist, she shoved her right hand into a pants pocket and felt the small black weapon she’d taken off the professor. Without thinking about what she was doing, she withdrew the weapon and pressed the firing mechanism.

An intensely narrow hot blue beam burned into Keith’s stomach. His shirt there burst into flames and the flesh underneath began to melt.

Valerie wanted to wail.

The flesh bubbled—and metal underneath the pseudo-flesh turned black and began sparking. As she suspected.

“Mate, mate, what are ye doing?” the Keith android asked her.

Valerie jerked her firing hand, burning a line up his chest until the beam caught him under the neck, drilling through to his braincase.

At that point, the android released her and staggered backward. He regarded Valerie, his eyes bright. And then everything shut down as the android replica of Keith Maker shorted out and crumpled onto the deck.

Rage, terror and something dark indeed burned in Valerie. What was going on here? What had the professor done this time?

“Nice try, Ludendorff,” she said in an altered voice. “Now let’s see if you’re an android, too.”

-16-

“Wait!” Ludendorff cried from the floor.

Valerie stood across the control chamber from him, with the little black weapon aimed at the professor’s face.

“Where’s Keith?” she demanded. “When did you make the switch?”

Ludendorff hesitated.

“Fine,” Valerie said. “This time you’ve gone too far anyway. I’ve been dreaming about killing you for some time. Looks like one of my wishes this trip is going to come true.”

“Kill me and you’ll never see Keith again.”

Valerie shook her head. “That’s not going to work. I’ve watched too many action movies in my life. The hero gets the drop on the bad guy, and does something really stupid, ending up giving the bad guy another chance. I’m the hero in this one, and you’re most certainly the bad guy. Well, end of the line for you, Professor—”

“Keith is quite alive,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “He’s in the equipment room in a stasis tube.”

Valerie’s eyes narrowed. It actually felt like the professor was telling the truth, but it also seemed as if he was trying to pull a fast one. Could he be right? What should she do? There was no way she was going to leave the professor in here alone. Nor was she going to let the professor near her, not even with his hands tied behind his back.

“I don’t trust you,” she said, lowering the weapon.

“You don’t have to. Simply go and check.”

“I will,” she said.

The smug bastard couldn’t help it. She detected the slightest smirk on his face. That confirmed her suspicion that this was a trick.

She picked up the steel rod and walked toward Ludendorff.

“What’s wrong now?” he asked. “I told you the truth.”

“Turn around, Professor.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously. “Do you plan to hit me with the rod?”

“You got it.”

“Why then should I turn around?”

“Because I’m going to hit you on the back of the head to knock you out,” Valerie said. “It’s the frontal lobe where all the intelligence lies? But suit yourself, I’ll smack you across the forehead if you like.”

“I’m an old man,” he said. “A concussion is a lot worse on a Methuselah Man.”

“I couldn’t care less.”

“Just leave me in here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Valerie stood a few feet from him. She could tell he madly worked to free himself from the belt looped around his wrists. If she hesitated too long—

She stepped forward and swung the rod. Ludendorff ducked, and the rod slammed against a panel. The professor attempted to use his head like a battering ram, scooting on his butt after her. Valerie jumped back, sidestepped and brought the rod down hard on the back of his head.

The professor pitched forward as he grunted. He lay perfectly still. Valerie wasn’t fooled. He was playacting. She stepped near and brought the rod down hard again on the back of his head.

She heard something crack, and he slumped across the deck. He lay very still.

“No tricks,” she said, using the rod to prod his cheek. The professor’s head moved lifelessly.

Had she killed him?

“It’s your own fault if I did,” she muttered. Then, she walked toward the hatch, trying to decide if the professor had told her the truth or not.

***

Before she did anything, Valerie searched the rooms until she found her holster and beamer. She buckled on the holster and held the beamer, ready for instant firing.

She reentered the corridor and walked slowly to the equipment room hatch. Her gut seethed, certain this was another Ludendorff trick. She had killed a Keith lookalike and maybe murdered the professor in cold blood. That didn’t mean she had to play this recklessly now. She was a Star Watch officer. This was a Star Watch vessel. They had paid a lot of money to train her. She couldn’t throw her life away until Star Watch had gotten its money’s worth out of her.

She stood before the hatch, crouched, pushed the switch and jumped back as the hatch opened.

An all-metal android looked up in surprise. It stood before a gurney with a female android lying on it.

“You are not the professor,” the metal thing said.

“Who are you?”

“Model—”

Valerie fired, but she only realized that as a hot beam flashed from her weapon. She burned the head case, killing the android until it lay still on the deck.

She found herself shivering, horrified that they had been flying around with androids in the darter. This was insane. How had it happened? Why had it happened?

Still shaking, she entered the equipment room. She saw Keith lying naked in a stasis tube. Was that the real Keith? She hoped so. She looked down at the android on the gurney. Its face was hers.

The eyes opened.

Valerie screamed in horror, scrambling back, firing as she did, killing her lookalike.

After the thing stopped twitching everywhere, Valerie dropped the beamer and dry-heaved. She hadn’t eaten for days, so nothing came up.

Finally, she picked up her beamer. She felt utterly spent. This was a horror show. Ludendorff had meant to replace her, putting the real Valerie in the extra stasis tube.

The desire to go back and murder the professor beat in time with her heart. Instead, she entered the equipment chamber, studying everything.

This was an android equipment room. How had the android and the other two replicas gotten aboard the darter? Was this an android operation or Ludendorff doing something Methuselah Man-like on his own, using androids?

Valerie determined right there to find out. First, she had to rescue poor Keith. Then, she had to eat and think this through carefully. Star Watch had too much on its plate for another android attack to take place as well as Drakos and Swarm attack saucers.

-17-

Valerie felt better, but not ready to begin thinking about what to do with the darter. Keith had listened to the story and told her he didn’t remember a thing. He agreed that the professor was a thorough villain.

They both ate and drank. Now, they sat in Keith’s room, deciding what to do with Ludendorff.

“We should kill him,” Keith suggested.

“I’m not a murderer. Besides, the captain might need the Methuselah Man’s knowledge.”

“Don’t you think keeping him a prisoner is too dangerous for just you and me?”

“Not if we put Ludendorff in a stasis tube.”

Keith nodded. “I like the idea, but will it damage his brain if we put him in one while he has a concussion?”

“I have no idea. But he’s going in there now.”

“Let’s do it,” Keith said.

***

The two of them carrying the inert professor took some work. Finally, though, they slid the professor inside a tube and sealed it.

“Do you know how to work one of these things?” Keith asked.

“I have an idea.”

“I have one, too,” Keith said. “It may be a bad idea, though. So you have to agree to it one more time.”

Without hesitation, she nodded. There was no way she wasn’t going to do this.

“Let’s wake the professor and tell him to explain why he did this,” Keith said.

“Why? He’ll just lie.”

“That’s why we’ll tell him that if we believe him, we’ll free him. First, he’ll have to swear not to do anymore of his stunts while we’re aboard the darter.”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked, eying Keith closely.

“No, we’ll lie straight to his face. Don’t worry. I’m not letting the ancient snake run free in here.”

Valerie smiled tiredly. “We’ll pay him back in his own coin. I like it. First, we’ll have to figure out how to operate the stasis tube. Then, we’ll wake him up.”

***

They stacked the destroyed androids in the back of the chamber, including the Keith android from the control chamber. Then, they tested the stasis-tube controls until they figured out how the machine worked.

“Say, wasn’t I naked in there?” asked Keith.

“So?”

“Pull him out. We’ll strip him like he did me.”

They did just that, pushing a naked Ludendorff into the tube afterward.

“Now we wake him,” Valerie said.

“Let’s do it.”

They used a stimulant from a medical bag. Both of them knew a stimulant might harm a man with a concussion. Neither said anything, maybe believing that if they kept quiet, it wouldn’t bother them later if the Methuselah Man suffered. After injecting the stim, they sealed the tube.

Valerie stood on one side, Keith on the other. They opened a comlink and kept a flow of fresh air going. In time, Ludendorff’s eyelids fluttered. He winced several times as if his head hurt, and his left eyelid drooped.

Valerie wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but she felt guilty. If she’d induced brain damage… It was one thing dreaming about revenge, and another actually taking it. Did Maddox or Ludendorff feel guilty after taking revenge? She’d have to ask the captain. Probably he’d just reprimand her for asking.

“How did I get here?” Ludendorff asked in a slurred voice, the left side of his mouth stiff.

Valerie bit her lower lip, unable to answer.

“You played foul with the wrong people, mate,” Keith said. “You’re not supposed to do that to your friends. We thought we could trust you.”

Ludendorff examined the inner stasis tube. He kept wincing as his eyes moved. “Who gave me the concussion?” he slurred.

Valerie hesitated before saying, “I did.”

Ludendorff tried to glare at her, but he kept wincing and frowning, and finally looked away. “You damaged my brain, Valerie.”

“Them’s the breaks,” she forced herself to say.

“Are you really that tough? Or are you simply trying to pretend you aren’t ashamed?”

“Can it,” she said, reverting to Greater Detroit slum lingo. “You played the game and got burned. Don’t blame that on me.”

“But I do.”

“Whatever,” she said. “I have a few questions for you. You can answer them or not. I hardly care anymore.”

Keith signaled her.

She shrugged.

“Answer truthfully,” Keith said in a rush, “and we’ll let you go.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. The professor wasn’t going buy that.

“I accept your offer,” the professor said.

Valerie eyed the lying coot. Did he think they would believe him? Then, she remembered what Maddox had once told her. When someone wanted a thing badly enough, it was easier for the person to believe the lie that promised the thing. It was easier because the person wanted the lie to be true.

“Start talking,” Valerie said.

“And you swear to release me if I do?” Ludendorff asked.

Valerie forced herself to nod.

“I swear,” Keith said.

“On your mother’s grave?” asked Ludendorff.

“On her grave,” Keith said.

“And you, Lieutenant?” the professor asked Valerie.

“Talk or not,” she said.

“I’m going to hold you to your word,” Ludendorff told Keith.

“I swore, didn’t I?” the ace said.

“Indeed, you did,” Ludendorff said. “Lying will bring grim retribution.”

“Like you’re one to talk about that,” Valerie sneered.

Ludendorff looked away as he winced, and this time he crouched in the tube as if in pain. When that stopped, he said, “I could use a glass of water. My mouth is terribly dry.”

“When you get out,” Valerie said. “Now start talking or I’m starting the stasis process.”

Ludendorff took a deep breath, composing himself as he put his hands on his chest. “I found the androids at the end of the last war,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes. “I reported some of them, but kept a stash for myself. I wondered when they might become useful.”

“So you stored them on Victory?” Valerie demanded.

“No. If you can believe it, I stored them here in the darter, in the equipment chamber. I didn’t think anyone would look.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Valerie asked.

“Believe or not, I’m telling the truth.”

“Does it matter how he got inert androids on board?” Keith asked her.

“Were they inert?” she asked Ludendorff.

“Enough that they posed no danger to the starship, but not enough to stay hidden if someone poked around in the equipment room,” Ludendorff said.

“They would have killed whoever found them?” Valerie asked.

“Rendered them unconscious and alerted me,” Ludendorff corrected.

“So, if you hadn’t joined the darter crew, Riker, Keith and I would be dead?” Valerie asked.

“I did join. That’s the point. I felt responsible to join.”

“That’s the only reason you came?” demanded Valerie.

“No.”

Valerie stared at him.

Ludendorff made that pathetic twisting move as he winced, and the left side of his face twitched. When it stopped, he said, “I am more seriously injured than I thought. You must not put me in stasis sleep.”

“Better keep talking then,” Valerie said.

Ludendorff composed himself again, staring upward. “I used the androids, I admit. I would have deactivated them after the journey and let you go back to your duties.”

She didn’t believe that. “Is there another Builder base out here?”

“Not quite that,” Ludendorff said, “but a planet I recalled with a few choice tools I need on it.”

“Where is this planet?”

“You don’t hope to strip me of all my secrets, do you?”

“Give me the coordinates,” Valerie said.

Ludendorff glanced at her before staring upward again. “The planet has no bearing on the Thrax Dilemma. I wanted the tools for…for other reasons.”

“Like what, Professor?”

He shook his head. “I cannot tell you.”

“Then, I’m not letting you out of here,” Valerie said.

Ludendorff sighed. “You’re not going to anyway. I know you’re lying about that.”

“Hey, mate,” Keith said. “I swore to let you out.”

“You’ll do anything to please Valerie in the hope she will let you into her pants,” Ludendorff said. “Your swearing was meaningless.”

“Of all the gall,” Keith told Valerie.

“How could you be so heartless toward us?” Valerie demanded. “Putting collars on us, switching us with lookalike androids? We’re your crewmates. We’ve been to hell and back together. Don’t you have any loyalty?”

“I do not care for your lectures,” Ludendorff said. “Either free me or put me into stasis and give me permanent brain damage. It’s your choice and it will be on your conscience for the rest of your life.”

Valerie studied the old trickster. Would it be on her conscience? He might be right about that. But at least she would be alive to have a conscience. For all she knew, Ludendorff meant to murder her. His assurances meant nothing.

She moved to the controls.

“I won’t forget this outrage and your heartlessness,” Ludendorff said.

“You might,” she said, “depending on the extent of your brain damage. Maybe you’ll have no memory of this at all.”

Ludendorff turned away from her.

Valerie had a good idea why. She’d just seen fear in his eyes, and as she worked the stasis controls, she wondered if that look would come back to haunt her in the coming days.

-18-

The darter drifted three and half light-years from the Mira A and B Binary System. Valerie sat at the sensor controls while Keith was at the piloting position.

They had rid the Reynard of androids, eaten, stowed Ludendorff in a stasis tube and shut the equipment hatch. Now, they needed to determine their present location and decide on their next course of action.

To that end, Valerie used the sensors, known stars—

“I have it,” she said. “We’re more than a few jumps from Victory’s last known location. If we follow standard jump procedures, we should be back there in a week, maybe a little sooner.”

Keith nodded noncommittally.

“You don’t think that’s a good idea?” asked Valerie.

“I keep wondering about Ludendorff’s planet. Maybe we should take a look while we’re out here.”

“Really?”

“You don’t agree?”

“First, where is the planet?”

“Uh… I’m not sure.”

“Me neither,” Valerie said. “So how long will it take us to hunt through the nearby star systems?”

“A few weeks,”

“Right. That brings me to point two. We have important data regarding Thrax’s possible colony world.”

“We just saw a missile base, no colony world.”

“Wrong,” Valerie said. “We saw an attack saucer, a working missile installation and six star cruisers. Drakos is hunting for Thrax. It looks like the New Man has found him.”

“That’s what I’m saying. We didn’t see any new colony world. That’s what we were sent out to find.”

“Keith, we have to get back to Victory. Our information is too important for us to screw around looking for a Ludendorff-derived planet.”

“You think he was lying about a special planet?”

“We know Ludendorff was lying about some of what he said. Does that include his planet? I don’t have the slightest idea, but I’m not going to waste time figuring it out.”

Keith scrunched his brow and finally nodded. “We head back to Victory?”

“On the double,” Valerie added.

“We’ve been out a little over three weeks. Repairs on Victory were supposed to take six weeks, at best. What’s the rush?”

“Andros Crank will be in charge of repairs by now, and he’s the Keith Maker of chief technicians.”

“You mean a miracle maker,” Keith said, grinning.

Valerie grinned back.

Keith stood, paused, it seemed, and then stepped up to her, holding out a hand.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking up.

“Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think? We need to celebrate our victory while we have a chance.”

Valerie stared at him longer. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Of course,” Keith said, reaching down, taking one of her hands, pulling Valerie to her feet. “Hey, darling,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Keith. We’re all alone.”

“Don’t I know it?” he asked, leaning into her for a kiss.

She turned her head so his lips met her cheek. Her heart raced, and as he tried again— “Don’t,” she said, pushing him away.

“None of that now, lass,” he said, pulling himself back in. He tried for another kiss.

“Wait,” she said, turning her head once more.

He frowned. “Why should we wait? We’re here. We’re alone, and you’re beautiful. I’ve missed you, Valerie. We’ve drifted apart. Now, it’s time to rekindle our love.”

“By doing it?” she asked.

“If you want to,” he said, his eyes bright.

“I’m not sure we should even be doing this.”

“Why?” he asked, not liking the whine in his tone. “Did Riker talk to you about me?”

“Sergeant Riker? Why would he do that?”

“No reason,” Keith said evasively.

“Did he talk to you about me?”

Keith didn’t answer. This was too frustrating. He had his hands on her. He wanted her. Surely, she wanted him. Why did Valerie always have to worry about everything? It was one of the things that had gotten in their way in the past.

“Let’s wait,” she suggested.

He stared at her, and his hands tightened around her shoulders. “We’ve waited long enough,” he said, almost angry.

“Keith…don’t you want me to want it, too?”

“Of course.”

“Then give me time.”

“How much time?” he demanded.

“Pressuring me isn’t going to work. It’s just going to make me angry.”

He released her. He thought about it, getting even angrier, and headed for the hatch.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To my quarters,” he snapped. “Tell me when you want me to pilot us to wherever.”

“Keith. Wait.”

He turned around.

“This is why we should wait. There’s just the two of us. This isn’t some love boat or porno movie. This is two Star Watch officers with an incredibly important mission. The fate of humanity might well be hanging in the balance.”

“The fate of humanity doesn’t drive me crazy by its nearness like you do.”

“I’m not trying to lead you on. You know that.”

He nodded. “I know.” He looked up into her eyes. “I want you, Valerie. You’re beautiful. I…I really like you.”

There it was. He liked her. Did Keith love her? Was it more than just her body? She wasn’t sure, and she believed what she’d just told him. They couldn’t mess around with this. The mission was more important than sex, and maybe in this case, more important than love.

She nodded. “I’ll call you to pilot.”

He waited, maybe hoping to hear more. He knew women liked strong men, forceful men, but he couldn’t just throw himself on her. He also didn’t want to act like a spoiled kid. She looked so beautiful, though. What was wrong with Riker? Why did the sergeant think a man had to marry a woman before taking her to bed? A man had to test the goods, first, make sure everything worked and meshed. Not that Riker would agree with such thinking.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Valerie said, turning back to her sensors.

She had dismissed him. Keith scowled. Maybe he should chase someone easier. Not many were as easy on the eyes, though.

He thought of several cutting remarks, but said, “Good idea, lass.” Then, he exited the control room.

-19-

The next few days proved uncomfortable for Valerie and Keith. They even had a loud argument, and Keith stormed off in a temper, locking the hatch to his quarters.

Valerie had scanned the nearby star systems, found two Earthlike planets, and wondered why Thrax hadn’t led his bugs there instead of to the Mira Binary System.

She felt bad about the argument and wondered if her guilty conscience about putting a possibly brain-injured Ludendorff into stasis had put her on edge. Also, she didn’t like Keith’s tone. He seemed angrier than she’d ever seen him. Would he become irrational?

As she sat at sensors, continuing to study nearby space, it occurred to her that Ludendorff might have conditioned Keith in some way. It wasn’t likely, but it was possible. Would the Methuselah Man have foreseen his capture and placement in stasis?

Ludendorff was arrogant, but he was damn smart and often farseeing.

Valerie got up, went down the corridor and tested the equipment room hatch. It was closed. She opened the hatch and checked on Ludendorff. The controls said he was still in stasis. She checked the destroyed androids. No one had moved them.

She stepped thoughtfully out of the chamber and locked the hatch behind her, entering a security code that only she would know. It was a simple precaution. She usually trusted Keith not to do anything stupid…but when she got angry enough, she could do stupid things. Well…she hadn’t, but she could think vengeful thoughts. Was Keith like that? She didn’t think so, but why not take the precaution? If he complained about the locked hatch, then she would know that she’d done the right thing.

Several hours passed, and it was time to jump.

“Keith to bridge,” she said.

He showed up a few minutes later, looking flushed. Now what was wrong with him? “You wanted me?”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He stared at her, and finally shook his head. “No. I’m not okay.”

“I didn’t mean to sound so angry when we talked before.”

“Don’t let it bother you, lass.”

“But it does,” she said. “We’re friends. We were boyfriend and girlfriend for a while.”

“Yeah, but not now,” he said, striding to his piloting seat.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?”

He slouched in the pilot seat, which wasn’t like him. He tapped the piloting board and suddenly turned toward her.

“Can I make a confession?” he asked.

Valerie didn’t like the sound of that. She nodded even as she put a hand in a pocket, feeling Ludendorff’s black little weapon there.

“I’m having strange thoughts,” Keith said.

“Like?”

“Freeing Ludendorff, for one.”

She nodded, wondering if this was conditioning or just a pissed off young man.

“I tried the hatch to the stasis chamber,” Keith said. “It was locked.”

“I did that.”

“So I figured. You don’t trust me anymore?”

“Should I, with your strange thoughts?”

He shook his head. “I’m beginning to think not. I wonder if the professor tampered with my mind. Not in a big way, but these thoughts—it’s not like me, Valerie.”

“I agree. That’s why I took precautions.”

He swallowed, and he balled his fingers into fists. “I hate this. I want to be with you. But Ludendorff—why does the captain keep him around?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Ludendorff is like high-octane fuel. He’s great at what he does, but he needs an expert driver in the vehicle he’s propelling.”

“Huh?”

“Ludendorff and Maddox are well matched. Maybe they even balance each other. With us, the professor just sees easy marks. We’re good at what we do—”

“I’m the best.”

Valerie nodded. “I’m not so bad myself.” And she couldn’t believe it, but that made her blush. She wasn’t used to bragging. It made her uncomfortable. “My point is,” she finally said, “we’re not enough counterweight to stop Ludendorff from his rogue actions. We stopped him this time, and that’s critical. But we have to keep him in stasis, and I have to keep an eye on you.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Keith said. “I’ll keep my hands off you, and we’ll leave the professor in cold storage for the captain. I’m with you now. We need to get back to Victory as fast as possible.”

“Good idea,” she said. “Let’s get started by making our next jump.”

PART IV

PREPARATION

-1-

Maddox sat in a wheelchair, staring at the stasis tube containing Ludendorff. He was aboard the landed darter in Hangar Bay 1, Lieutenant Noonan even now telling her tale. She kept staring at him strangely, and he knew the reason, naturally. She could not believe him in a wheelchair.

Maddox could hardly believe it himself. Ever since coming out of the coma, he found it difficult to concentrate and impossible to stay on his feet for long. It was driving him crazy, and he wondered how long the crew would stand for a tired starship captain. Only his native stubbornness had kept him from giving command over to—well, that was one of the problems. Whom would he place in charge? Lieutenant Noonan was the obvious choice, and she had been gone. Now, she was back with startling data regarding Thrax, Drakos and the once again untrustworthy Ludendorff.

“I hope I haven’t induced permanent brain damage,” Valerie said.

Maddox looked up. “Forget about that. You did the best you could under the circumstances. In fact, you made the correct choices all down the line.”

Valerie stood taller and held her head a bit higher.

“Ludendorff,” Maddox said, and he felt the tiredness swoop upon him. He wanted to close his eyes and just go to sleep. It was painful keeping his eyes open.

“What’s next, sir?” Valerie asked.

“Eh? What?” asked Maddox.

She frowned. “Sir, is there anything I can do for you?”

Maddox forced himself to regard Valerie. “As a matter of fact, you’re going to run the starship. I’ve…it’s good you’re back. Andros has almost completed the repairs. He says another two days and we can limp to this planet Galyan has been talking about.”

Valerie shook her head, probably having no idea what planet that could be.

“Galyan can inform you,” Maddox said. “Ludendorff… I want you to oversee his transfer to medical, keeping him in the stasis tube.”

“Shouldn’t we take him out now that he’s back on Victory?”

“No.”

“But sir—”

“Lieutenant,” Maddox said, interrupting. “I’m tired, dead tired. I’m not going to deal with Ludendorff until Galyan’s sculpture restores my energy or I resign my post.”

“Captain!”

Maddox nodded. He understood now. He could no longer run a starship. He wasn’t going to relinquish command, because there might be a cure for him. If he relinquished command too early, the Lord High Admiral might order the new captain—Valerie—to head directly toward the approaching fleet. It wasn’t strictly his own command he was worried about, but capturing Drakos so he could restore the Iron Lady to Intelligence. She’d looked after him when he’d been helpless. He was going to repay the favor, or he was going to die trying. Then, he was going to demand the Iron Lady to tell him who his father was. He was going to use the rest of his life finding his father and making him pay for what had happened to his mother.

“Sir?” Valerie asked tentatively. “Captain Maddox?”

Maddox raised his head, his eyes bleary. Had he just fallen asleep? He couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t wanted Valerie knowing how out of it he was.

“I heard you snoring, sir,” Valerie said.

“Never mind that,” Maddox said slowly. “Do as I order, and tell me the moment we’re heading for Galyan’s planet.”

“Are—are you sure that’s wise at a time like this?”

“You wish to debate me, Lieutenant?”

Valerie shook her head.

“Good,” he said. “Tell Meta to come here. Then—” He almost gave Valerie new orders. He couldn’t remember what he’d told her to do, but it would be what he would have thought important. Right now, he needed to hide his weakness from everyone but his wife.

Once he brimmed with soul energy again, he would deal with Ludendorff. He certainly didn’t trust the weasel-like Methuselah Man enough to have to trust him now. What in the world had Ludendorff been up to this time? More androids? When would he be done with androids for good?

“Maddox,” Meta said, shaking his shoulder.

Maddox opened his eyes. Had he fallen asleep again? He looked up. “Where’s Valerie?”

“Gone,” she said. “She looks worried, husband. What did you tell her?”

Maddox scowled. He felt a little weak, and everyone started questioning him. The thing was not to become querulous. He’d have Meta contact the Lord High Admiral and pass along the data concerning the Mira Binary System. Was Thrax’s new colony world there? He’d put money on it.

Maddox frowned, looking around, surprised to see the corridors leading to his bedchamber. He wished he could stay awake.

-2-

Far away on the Throne World, Golden Ural headed to a conference chamber in the Emperor’s Palace.

The palace was magnificent, full of fantastic Baroque architecture with equally stunning artwork hanging on the walls. He heard the tinkle of feminine laughter and noticed down a corridor several of the Emperor’s beauties in sumptuous flowing gowns. They had fans, putting them before their lovely features.

Golden Ural smiled. He was tall even for a superior, what the subhumans called New Men. He was also deeply golden and considered the most handsome of superiors by those with discriminating taste. He’d led the invasion armada many years ago into the Commonwealth. He would have led the armada against the invasion of the Imperium the first time, but the Emperor had led the fleet himself. Golden Ural wore a tight-fitting silver-colored uniform with a Sunburst Star, a gold medal set with precious diamonds, on his right pectoral.

The medal wasn’t for courage in battle. All superiors were expected to show courage. The Sunburst Star was for exceptional cleverness in battle. He’d won the star at the end of the Commonwealth Invasion because he’d kidnapped great numbers of women from the submen, and had made the theft permanent without further war.

Naturally, like the Emperor, he had his own harems and had already sired many sons from them. The Emperor and he were cousins, and they both subscribed to the so-called softliner view regarding the Commonwealth. They desired peace, believing that in time, their superior qualities would deliver faster, better and larger growth compared to the subhumans.

Yet, Ural disagreed in one particular with his cousin the Emperor. Ural believed they should kill Methuselah Man Strand, not keep him as a special prisoner. But he hadn’t opposed his cousin concerning that.

A duo of dominant guards rapped the ends of their ceremonial halberds on the marble floor. They wore baroque red and silver colored uniforms, including outrageously tall fur hats. They also had blasters at their hips if the halberds proved ineffectual.

Ural halted before the double doors of the Audience Chamber.

One of the guards opened one of the big doors, peering in. A moment later, the guard beckoned Ural.

The cousin to the Emperor of the Throne World entered the huge chamber. The marble floors reflected like mirrors. There were many statues, all showing warriors of the past. At the far end of the chamber was a marble dais. Upon the dais was a large golden throne, and upon it sat the Emperor.

Ural strode across the red carpet, halting at the edge of the dais. He dipped his head and waited.

“Cousin,” the Emperor said, holding aloft a diamond-toped scepter.

“Your Majesty,” Ural said, bowing at the waist and throwing out his right arm in a grand sweep.

“Rise, please.”

The one open door closed. The guards remained on the other side. No one else was in the Audience Chamber.

“Please,” the Emperor said, “sit.”

Ural sat on the edge of the dais, sitting in such a way that he could regard the Emperor. They did this in case someone had slipped spy devices into the chamber. In no way did Ural want to slight his cousin’s royal dignity.

“I’ve spoken again with the Lord High Admiral,” the Emperor said, speaking the last three words sardonically.

“They allow themselves grand titles.”

“Indeed, and perhaps with the old man that one is deserved. We mustn’t let their genetic inferiority blind us to the fact that Star Watch is still dangerous.”

Ural inclined his head, silently agreeing.

“I’ve debated with myself,” the Emperor said. “I do not like this fighting amongst ourselves. That weakens us compared to the subhumans.”

“You refer to Lord Drakos?”

“According to the submen, Drakos has found Thrax’s new colony hive and is busy attempting to convince the bugs to throw their attack saucers into the fray.”

“The last part surely is conjecture.”

“Surely,” the Emperor said. He related to Ural all that the Lord High Admiral had told him. Much of the information, apparently, came from a darter crew. The stealth-darter crew witnessed an attack saucer, three Swarm missiles and six star cruisers attempting to capture them. This was in the Mira Binary System.

Ural made a quick calculation as to its distance from the Throne World. “The bugs were presumptuous to create a hive so near our territory.”

“I’m sure Commander Thrax would differ with you.”

Once more, Ural inclined his head.

“Admiral Cook urges speed,” the Emperor said. “He hopes our united force can sweep the star system and annihilate our joined enemies.”

“Six star cruisers did you say earlier, Excellency?”

“That was all the darter crew witnessed.”

“Lord Drakos took at least fourteen star cruisers into the Greater Beyond, possibly as many as nineteen. May I ask how many warships Cook is sending?”

“He says one hundred: sixty-five of cruiser class and above, the rest will be ancillary and supply vessels.”

“I would have expected more. Yet, according to our sources, Star Watch is stretched thin. Maybe they cannot collect more on such short notice. Do you believe he spoke truthfully?”

“I’m unsure,” the Emperor said. “Would Cook send any fewer on such a critical mission?”

Ural considered the question. “The key would be to send enough to destroy the enemy with a minimum of loss to oneself. The admiral is wise enough to know that the more he sends, the fewer ships and personnel he will likely lose. I suspect he is sending more, as one hundred is simply too few to crush Thrax and Drakos.”

“I’m inclined to agree. I suspect he’s sending almost every battleship at Star Watch’s command. I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’s sending twice the number he told me.”

Ural pondered that.

“You don’t agree, do you?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. The more I consider it—the difficulties gathering warships quickly—the more I’m inclined to think Cook is sending even fewer, hoping to strike hard and quick with a few will get the task completed.”

“Fewer than one hundred warships?” asked the Emperor. “That seems preposterous. Explain your reasoning, particularly given your earlier statement about the size of the fleet equaling fewer casualties.”

“The submen think of Cook as a cunning old war dog. He may believe his own propaganda. He will probably reason as you and I did, Majesty. He will therefore do the opposite in order to trick us—the reason being protection of the Commonwealth against a possible sneak attack. One thing we know beyond a doubt concerning Cook. He lives to protect the submen. In this instance, I wonder if he distrusts us as a political entity, believing we’re trying to lure the protective fleet away from the Commonwealth.”

The Emperor nodded slowly.

“I suggest Cook will send approximately seventy warships and supply vessels altogether. Some of those will be newer Conqueror-class battleships. One of those would be worth three attack saucers. Victory will also be there. Star Watch has an unreasonable belief that Victory and Captain Maddox can produce miracles. Since Star Watch no longer owns any Destroyers, Victory is likely the most dangerous warship in Human Space.”

“Seventy, you say? That’s much fewer than Commander Thrax’s one hundred and sixty attack saucers.”

“We should allow for wastage, Majesty. Thrax is far from any Swarm supply bases, having to create his own. Surely, the bugs will have had to cannibalize parts from some saucers to keep the rest functional. And there is this missile base. Where did the missiles come from? Has Thrax an industrial base? Surely, he must be building one, but it’s likely the missiles came from the saucers. So, given the wastage and cannibalization, how many operational attack saucers does the bug warlord possess?”

Ural frowned as his superior mind computed possibilities. Finally, he looked up. “I suspect the Swarm splinter group will have one hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty attack saucers. That may even be too high an assessment. Consider, Majesty. They had taken war damage. They fled an exploding star. They lived a nomadic life for several years. I am more inclined to think one hundred and twenty attack cruisers. The warships may not all be in the best condition, either. And we must take into account that Thrax will keep some saucers back to guard the new colony world.”

“That is well reasoned, cousin.”

Ural inclined his head at the royal compliment.

“Still,” the Emperor said, “let us say one hundred and thirty attack saucers to be on the safe side.”

“Granted, Sire,” Ural said.

“Add nineteen possible star cruisers in Lord Drakos’s flotilla, and we will face one hundred and fifty warships, more or less. Well, no, you think Thrax will keep some behind to guard his colony world. Let us eliminate twenty attack saucers, therefore. That would make one hundred and thirty vessels. If Star Watch sends the one hundred Cook said, and some of the battleships are worth two or three enemy ships, they will likely have similar tonnage and fighting capability. Perhaps the better strategy would be to let the two sides hammer against each other, bloodying themselves into nothing.”

“Sound strategy indeed, Majesty.”

The Emperor peered at Ural, finally shaking his head. “I cannot tell if you approve or disapprove. Which is it, cousin?”

“Alas, I am of two minds on this. I like the idea of the submen losing more of their warships in a slugfest against the Swarm remnant. Hopefully, Star Watch could destroy Lord Drakos for us as well, and you could persuade the others in his flotilla into a more reasonable mindset.”

“But…?” asked the Emperor.

“Is all our information accurate concerning Star Watch? Maybe they’re not as weak as they appear. They have grown more cunning over the years. They have also collected some interesting alien technology.”

“This is odd. First, you say Star Watch is too weak. Now, you say they may be too strong. Which is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come now,” the Emperor said. “Are you not granting the subhumans too much cleverness, cousin? Are they really so devious to fool us?”

“As long as Maddox and Ludendorff are on the other side—and the Iron Lady and the Lord High Admiral also bear careful consideration—we must act prudently. Remember, we miscalculated their strength the first time and were forced to retreat.”

“Firstly,” the Emperor said, “the Iron Lady is out of favor. Drakos saw to that with his Bosks.”

“Perhaps, perhaps, but I have heard rumors. She escaped her imprisonment. Then she mysteriously died. Now, I have one agent telling me she is with the Lord High Admiral. There is a mystery concerning her, and there are agents, new ones, who know how to keep in the dark.”

“What is this?”

“A development I don’t understand,” Ural said. “Perhaps they are agents of new aliens hiding in the wings.”

“And what bearing does that have on us now?”

“Maybe Star Watch and thus the Commonwealth are acting as a bulwark for us against foes we don’t even know yet.”

“Suppose I grant you your conjectures,” the Emperor said, frowning. “Why does that cause you hesitation regarding the bloodying of Swarm and submen against each other while we conserve our strength?”

“Frankly, even if everything went our way, I don’t think it’s time to reinvade the Commonwealth. There are too many unknowns at present. Let me describe one particular. We know Star Watch has begun using heavy metals to rearm and re-shield their newest battleships. How much do these heavy metals augment the warships? Perhaps it has brought about an advance in combat effectiveness. It would be good to know either way before we commit ourselves.”

“If you’re right, why would Cook ask for our aid? Oh,” the Emperor said. Before Ural could speak, he answered his own question. “In order to complete the illusion of weakness.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

“You truly think the submen are that clever?”

“I give it a thirty percent probability,” Ural said.

“Which is rather low, cousin.”

“Granted. But what if this is part of a larger trap to lure our star cruisers into an inferior position.”

“You mean in the Mira Binary System?”

“No, Majesty, I mean if Star Watch takes too great a bloodying and the Throne World superiors clamor for another invasion of the Commonwealth. Then, as we invade deep into the Commonwealth, a trap springs shut and the vast majority of our star cruisers are annihilated. Then, the submen’s Grand Fleet heads for the Throne World.”

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “Do you fear these submen to that extent?”

“Does a man fear a scorpion? Yes, enough to crush it so it doesn’t sting him.”

“Or a swarm of scorpions…” The Emperor stroked his cheek with a long finger. “Do you want to aid Star Watch in this?”

“Want is the wrong word, Majesty. I think it would be prudent to help Star Watch destroy the Swarm. Then, because we are there, we can force or persuade the submen to allow the captured star cruisers to remain with us.”

“Go on,” the Emperor said.

“Perhaps we could save two-thirds of Drakos’s flotilla. Those crews would owe us a debt. The Throne World would also spare precious warships. We could also assess Star Watch and learn even more about them. In that way, when the grand invasion of the Commonwealth finally begins again—if it happens in our lifetimes—we will be more likely to win ourselves an empire.”

The Emperor looked away, saying nothing for a time.

Ural waited. It was harder to make the great decision than to give advice to the one who had to choose. He respected the weight and duress of authority, having known it as the invasion commander.

“If I send star cruisers to aid Star Watch, how many do you suggest I send?” the Emperor asked.

“There is always a possibility the submen wish to ambush the Throne World. Thus, we should hold back a powerful protective fleet.”

“We can make one powerful fleet, but not two,” the Emperor said, “especially during a time like this when superior is pitted against superior.”

“That is why Lord Drakos must die.”

“Yes,” the Emperor said, with fire in his eyes. “Drakos must die.” The fire burned brightly, but disappeared as the Emperor hooded his rage. “You still haven’t answered me. How many star cruisers should we send?”

“Twelve, at least,” Ural said.

“No. That is too few.”

Ural smiled. “You already have a number in mind, Majesty. You do not need my number.”

The Emperor noted the Sunburst Star on Ural’s uniform. It indicated great guile during war or battle. Many of the beauties in the Emperor’s harem had come directly from his cousin’s brilliance. The successful kidnapping still grated on many people in Star Watch. The submen considered it an outrage, not realizing how lucky the women were, how proud they had become realizing that superior men wanted them. Now, many of the beauties had already helped sire strong young sons.

“You think few are better?” the Emperor asked.

“I do.”

“I was pondering sending thirty,” the Emperor said.

Ural barely kept himself from stiffening.

The Emperor must have noticed anyway. “Why would thirty have been too many?”

“Are thirty crews and their captains truly on our side?”

“Do you believe any would dare to turn against you during battle?”

“Sire, you are sending me as the commander?”

“Do you refuse the post?”

“No, Sire. It is a great honor.”

“Does that change how many you want with you?”

Ural shook his head. “A few good men who believe in their cause are better than many who haven’t given their whole heart to the venture.”

“I agree to a point, cousin, also believing that having many disrupter cannons is better than having too few. Let the submen see our strength.”

Ural dipped his head.

“How many captains will fight wholeheartedly in the cause?” the Emperor asked.

“Twenty-four by my latest count,” Ural answered.

“So few as that?”

“I’m afraid so, Sire.”

“Twelve is half.”

Ural nodded.

“Half with you, half with me?” asked the Emperor.

“Half with me as I solve the Drakos problem for good. Half with you to bolster the halfhearted who will remain here guarding the Throne World.”

“I will send five of those with you. Make these bear the brunt of the fighting.”

Ural nodding, saying, “Seventeen star cruisers then, Sire?”

The Emperor nodded.

“Do I join the Star Watch fleet?”

“You are allied with them, but you must retain independent command. I also charge you with saving as many of Drakos’s star cruisers as you can. Kill Drakos. He must die out there, but bring me back the misguided captains. We will need them in the coming days.”

“I hear and obey, Sire.”

The Emperor fixed Ural with a steady gaze. “Whatever else happens, do not lose your warships in a battle of annihilation with Lord Drakos. That would be a disaster. We are the best, but at present, there are still too few of us in the universe. We must remain strong, or the weak will gather and overwhelm us before we’re ready to dominate the universe.”

Ural stood at attention, saluting his cousin.

The Emperor lowered his gaze, and he seemed worried. “I wonder upon Lord Drakos. How will he convince Thrax to fight for his cause?”

“It would be good to know,” Ural said. “By your leave, cousin, I must begin preparations.”

“Yes, go,” the Emperor said. “It is time to roll the dice of fate once more in battle. I find that exhilarating.”

Ural clicked his heels together, turned smartly and marched for the doors. This would be a grand adventure indeed.

-3-

Lord Drakos and his escort moved briskly through the upper level domain of Supremacy Thrax’s colony world.

The company of superiors wore special synthetics, like padded silver uniforms. They were unique combat suits with hidden processers and servomotors that augmented their already great speed and strength. The suits would allow Drakos and his escorts augmented fighting abilities, and the suits held hidden batteries for their hand weapons.

Drakos understood the risk he was taking agreeing to meet down here. Thrax might order an ambush. With the special suits, he and his men would also fight like heroes, slaughtering many more Swarm than Thrax would expect.

Sometimes, one had to risk greatly to win greatly. It was a maxim Drakos believed and accepted.

The entire flotilla of star cruisers orbited the Earth-sized moon orbiting the gas giant 15 AUs from Mira B, the hot white dwarf. The missing six star cruisers had rejoined the others.

According to a secret report from Nar Falcon, who had remained aboard the Agamemnon, Thrax had one hundred and eighteen attack saucers. Nar Falcon had no reason to believe that Thrax had any more. That was a far cry from one hundred and sixty. Drakos hoped Nar Falcon had miscalculated in this.

The new Swarm colony world was effectively hidden from any prying scout ships. The colony was entirely underground, a true bug fortress, as Thrax’s minions continued to churn the soil and dig deeper. Interestingly, the attack saucers lurked under the moon’s highest clouds located in the stratosphere. Presently, the only visible vessels in the Mira Binary System were the twelve star cruisers in orbit around the moon.

The underground corridor they moved through was massive, consisting entirely of stone, with only intermittent lighting on the high ceiling.

Earlier, Drakos had received an extended tour, seeing many heating units powered through nuclear energy centers. The centers had greatly interested him, even though nuclear power was less efficient than antimatter plants.

Today, he had agreed to tell Thrax the secret to gaining a queen. Today, Drakos hoped to cement the relationship and alliance with the hybrid Swarm creatures. The signs and slights here told him he would likely have to convince Thrax that it would be wiser to work together than for the bugs to try to storm his star cruisers and take them for their own.

Yes. Drakos was becoming quite certain that Nar Falcon had miscalculated the one hundred and eighteen count. He hadn’t expected there to be one hundred and sixty attack saucers. But surely Thrax had more than one hundred and eighteen. Where were the extra attack saucers hiding? Drakos was certain they would find out today.

The stocky superior nodded to himself. He hoped Thrax attempted his inevitable double-cross now, and learned the folly of doing so. Did the bug lord believe him—Lord Drakos—foolish enough to put his head in a noose without having a plan? Likely, the bug lord did. The more time he’d spent with Thrax, the more Drakos had come to believe that the hybrid Swarm creatures had an unreasonable belief in their superiority over mammals.

Drakos snorted softly. The fact that Thrax could believe such foolishness showed that the bug lord lacked true reasoning power. The hybrids were “show-me” sentients, it would seem, and today, Drakos intended to show Thrax the true situation.

***

Bug guards—hybrid soldier Swarm—began to pour out of nearby access points. Soon, Drakos and his escort moved through the corridor with hundreds of soldier bugs around them.

Twenty men versus hundreds of Swarm creatures. Drakos shook his head. Could Thrax believe these were enough Swarm soldiers to disarm him and his men? If Thrax could miscalculate that badly…

Remember the original invading Swarm fleet, Drakos told himself. The 80,000 warships had menaced humanity with their sheer numbers. Yet, only Thrax’s attack saucers had had star-drive-jump maneuverability. If the bug lord was stupid enough to misjudge him, it would likely be easier to use Thrax and his bugs. Using the attack saucers correctly meant—

“Sir,” the escort chief whispered. “There is commotion ahead.”

Drakos craned his neck to look. He was shorter than his escort and couldn’t see over them. He didn’t like that, not one bit. “What do you see?” he snapped.

“Laser batteries, lord,” the chief said. “We’ve marched toward them.” The chief looked around. “The Swarm soldiers have closed around us, hemming us in.”

“Are they going to just murder us?” Drakos asked in disbelief.

“Maybe,” the chief said.

It galled Drakos that bug stupidity could ruin everything.

“Ah…lord,” the chief said. “There is a bug clothed in scarlet. Do you see him?”

Drakos looked where the chief pointed. He did see the bug. The creature was climbing the laser batteries. Was that Thrax up there? The bug had the praying mantis form.

The bug raised a horn to its mandibles, clicking the speaker unit. “Lord Drakos,” it called.

“Here we go,” Drakos whispered. “Do you have a loudspeaker?”

“Here, lord,” the chief said, handing one over.

Drakos took it, putting it before his mouth and activating it. “Is that you, Supremacy?”

The praying mantis-like bug waited before raising his speaker again. “I am the Supremacy’s mouthpiece. It is time to bargain.”

“Are you saying that as Supremacy Thrax?”

“I am.”

“Is this not a strange place to bargain?” Drakos asked.

“No,” the bug said. “It is the perfect place, for it outlines the real situation.”

“What might that be?” asked Drakos.

“You are surrounded,” the bug said. “Your star cruisers are surrounded. You are at our mercy.”

“I’m going to call our star cruisers to confirm your statement.”

“By all means do so,” the bug said. “Since you are in the inferior position and we have the advantage, there is nothing you can do about it.”

“Don’t bet on that,” Drakos said quietly, handing the loudspeaker to the security chief. He took out a communicator, knowing the bug techs would be madly trying to hack in. That was fine. Let them hack. Let them listen. It would confound Thrax even more later.

“Lord, Drakos,” Nar Falcon said in an elevated voice via comm. “I’m glad you called.”

“Steady, man,” Drakos said. “Are attack saucers attempting to surround the flotilla?”

“They succeeded, lord,” Nar Falcon said. “They’ve been using a jammer, or I would have already alerted you.”

“You tried and failed to burn through the jamming?”

“Yes, lord.”

“Interesting,” Drakos said. “How many attack saucers do you count?”

“Thirty-one, lord.”

“This makes an additional thirty-one saucers?”

“You were right, lord. They had more.”

“Good news then,” Drakos said. “One hundred and fifty attack saucers is a potent fleet.”

“Begging your pardon, lord, but I think Thrax means us harm.”

“No, no,” Drakos said. “This is a demonstration, nothing more.”

“I won’t ask you if you’re sure—”

“Quite sure,” Drakos said, interrupting. “Say, in ten minutes.”

“It shall be as you say, lord.”

“Excellent,” Drakos said. “Carry on then. Don’t be alarmed. This will work out for the best.”

“You are the commander. We obey.”

Drakos shut down the communicator. Nar Falcon knew his task. Thrax was tricky. Now was the moment to cement the alliance along the proper lines. Yes. This should all turn out just fine.

-4-

“Have you spoken to your ships?” the Thrax lookalike asked from atop the laser batteries pointed at Drakos and his escort.

“I have,” Drakos said through his loudspeaker. “Is there a reason for your demonstration? I refer to the attack saucers around my star cruisers, the jamming and the laser batteries presently pointed at me.”

“There is, Lord Drakos,” the bug said, using the speaking unit. “Supremacy Thrax demands you give him the secret to creating a docile Swarm queen.”

The escort soldiers around Drakos stirred, not liking such affrontery directed at their lord. If they weren’t so strictly trained, if they weren’t already superiors, Drakos might have been worried that one of them would go off half-cocked like a subman. But these were the greatest soldiers in the universe.

A surge of racial pride swelled in Drakos’s chest. It was good that such men were his followers. It was good to fight, and possibly die, in the company of real soldiers, warriors bred to the purpose.

“Do you hear my words, Lord Drakos?” the bug asked.

“I heard,” Drakos said through his loudspeaker. “I’m still trying to understand how my ally, Supremacy Thrax, feels he can demand such a delicate thing. It’s one of the ingredients to our alliance. Why, I would almost suspect he is trying to blackmail me with threats.”

“What do you deem as a threat?”

“A gun to the head,” Drakos said.

“Yes. That is correctly reasoned. Supremacy Thrax is holding a gun, as it were, to your fleet.”

“Oh. So he does think of these actions as threatening to me?”

“Your continued existence is at stake,” the bug said.

“Lord,” the chief said to Drakos. “This is unbearable. Please, give the word, and we will kill all these bugs and destroy the laser batteries.”

“Chief,” Drakos said sternly. “Who is in command here?”

“You, lord,” the chief said. “If you will allow me, I will retract my statement.”

“Good, good,” Drakos said, “I do allow. Thus, I won’t shoot you for your impertinence.”

“You are gracious, lord.”

Drakos nodded, although his mind wasn’t on that, but on Thrax’s reasoning. He raised the loudspeaker, clicking the trigger, saying, “I will give the secret to his Supremacy, but only in person.”

“Do you wish then to become a prisoner?” the bug asked.

“What an odd statement. I must have misunderstood you. Probably, it is the difference between our two species.”

“Prisoner, chained, powerless, in our custody,” the bug said through his speaker.

“How remarkable,” Drakos replied. “You are suggesting that. I am quite disappointed in Thrax.”

“He is Supremacy Thrax.”

“No. He is just plain old Thrax when he dares to threaten me, and after I have come to bring him so much.”

“One word, lord,” the bug said, “and your star cruisers will yield their crews to us, and Supremacy Thrax will take the warships for the hive.”

 “That would be a fatal mistake for all of you.”

“Is that a threat, lord?”

“Well, let us wait and see,” Drakos said.

“I’m waiting for your—”

A rumble of sound and an earthquake, perhaps, shook the massive corridor and interrupted the bug. The bugs glanced around in alarm.

“I can make that stop,” Drakos said through the loudspeaker.

“What are you talking about?” the top bug asked.

Ten seconds passed. Then another rumble sounded, and the shaking resumed.

“Do you claim to be causing this?” the bug demanded.

“First, I suggest you find out what ‘this’ is. Call Thrax. I would assume he would know by now.”

The bug appeared agitated. He spoke into his comm. As he did, another, more distant rumble sounded, and the shaking was less than before.

“Lord Drakos,” the bug called with its loudspeaker.

“At your service,” Drakos said through his.

“Those were nuclear reactors exploding. Thousands of workers have died hideously. Tunnels have collapsed and much equipment was lost.”

“My, that’s terrible,” Drakos said.

“You caused three nuclear reactors to blow?”

“Ah, yes, I suppose I did.”

“How did you do this?”

“That is the question isn’t it? Would you like me to detonate more?”

“You will die if you do,” the bug said.

“Then, your entire hive will cease to exist, including Supremacy Thrax. Do you truly desire this? Because if you do, I can give it to you.”

“You will die too in that case.”

“Yes,” Drakos said. “I will die, but most gloriously while killing my enemies.”

Several of the escort chuckled in appreciation of the boldly spoken threat.

Drakos smiled. It was good to battle wits in the company of such fine powerful soldiers. It was an honor. He loved being a superior. He loved being the best. Life was good and could only get better.

Two minutes passed. During that time, the bug on the laser batteries must have been speaking to Thrax.

“Lord Drakos,” the bug finally called. “Supremacy Thrax desires to meet with you. He asks that you come alone—”

Drakos raised his loudspeaker. “No. While I’m in the hive, I will remain in the company of my escort. Any effort to separate me from my soldiers will result in the destruction of your hive. Do I make myself clear?”

“You do, lord. Supremacy Thrax will speak to you now. Please refrain from any more demonstrations.”

“Only if your attack saucers leave the vicinity of my star cruisers and you allow me to speak freely with my crews at all times.”

“It shall be done, lord.”

“Glad to hear it. Thus, as soon as I can confirm—” Drakos’s communicator began to beep. “Just a minute.” He raised the comm unit as he lowered the loudspeaker.

“Lord Drakos?” asked Nar Falcon.

“It’s excellent to hear your voice. We shall proceed as planned.”

“Then it—”

“Nar Falcon,” Drakos said sternly, interrupting.

“I’m sorry, lord. Thank you.”

“Say no more. Are the attack saucers leaving?”

“They are.”

“We will proceed. Drakos out.” He lowered the communicator. The chief looked at him eagerly. Drakos nodded.

“The laser batteries are moving aside, and the soldiers around us are retreating,” the chief said.

Drakos allowed himself the barest of smiles. The plan had worked. Nar Falcon had used the Builder Teleportor and sent a naked dominant to an underground reactor each time. The dominant had used his great fighting ability there and managed, no doubt, to gain a weapon. He had then caused a core meltdown and explosion. That had naturally caused his own suicidal death. That meant the mind-conditioning had held to the end. It had also resulted in a reversal of the flotilla’s imminent destruction.

Now, had it caused Thrax to view him as having great powers? If so, the alliance could move forward on the right track. If not, he would have to think of another expedient. Oh, this was quite exciting, living life to the fullest.

“Let’s go,” Drakos told his escort. He needed to match wits one more time and convince Thrax on using the attack saucers the correct way.

-5-

Drakos and his escort halted. The massive corridor had grown smaller, narrower here. It led to a bright area ahead. For just a moment, Drakos wondered if Thrax would order a gas attack.

“Chief?” Drakos asked.

“Nothing, lord,” the chief said, who was looking at a handheld indicator.

The brightness ahead dimmed. Drakos frowned until he spied a bug column approaching. The bugs marched smartly, and each carried a large rifle. At their head was a giant mantis. That one did not carry a rifle. He had no doubt it was Supremacy Thrax.

“Well, well, well,” Drakos said to himself. He imagined this galled Thrax terribly. The bug was risking his royal person. That told him plenty. Thrax wanted the bug queen, wanted her indeed.

“Attention,” Drakos told the chief.

The chief roared at the escort. They all snapped straight, ready for anything, including an attack-and-destroy-everything order. If that happened, each soldier would slap a mask to his face, Drakos among them. Then they would die gloriously in battle like Viking berserkers of old.

Drakos savored the moment. It was pregnant with potential, and it could also bring death. This was the reason a man lived—to attempt mighty deeds. Why else breathe the air, eat and couple with beauties if not to dare greatly?

“The sides,” Drakos quietly asked the chief.

The man directed the flat indicator at the bulkheads on either side of them. The chief looked up, but did so calmly. “I detect sniper lasers, I would call them, likely for aiming weapons.”

“Yes,” Drakos agreed. “That’s a good name for them. It also tells me something. Thrax fears us personally. I’m not sure I like that, for that indicates true reason. Above all things, we are most to be feared.”

The chief grinned, puffing out his chest a little farther.

The bug host continued to march their way. The bugs outnumbered them. Drakos estimated about ten to one. Didn’t Thrax realize that belittled his Swarm creatures? Didn’t Thrax realize that heightened the value of an individual superior? He supposed the bug lord would have different, lesser indicators of what was of true worth. That was funny, because Thrax would be wrong.

Finally, the hybrid Swarm host halted. Thrax stood at their van. Drakos walked out to meet the bug.

The mantis-type creature was just a little taller than he was. Drakos didn’t like that, as the bug would be just a little shorter than Golden Ural, who he hated above all those remaining on the Throne World.

Thrax wore the box translator on his thorax today.

Drakos crossed his arms, watching the other. He wished there was a physical way to tell if Thrax were agitated or not. Maybe the clicking mandibles or pincers were the indication.

“What have you done?” Thrax demanded, and he sounded angry. Maybe he wore a better translator unit this time.

“Supremacy?” asked Drakos, keenly aware that Thrax had addressed him first. As a supplicant, Drakos silently told himself.

“You claim to have destroyed three reactors in my hive, causing thousands of deaths.”

“Firstly, Supremacy, instead of claim, you should say that I did cause the reactor explosions. I directly caused them.”

“Why?” Thrax demanded.

“Supremacy, let us not mince words. You practiced deceit upon my flotilla and threatened our destruction. That was unkind, though I anticipated it. I merely showed you the error of your thinking. If you would destroy us, I would destroy you. I have called that something unique.”

“What?”

“Tit for tat,” Drakos said.

“Do you think that’s humorous?”

“Fitting, Supremacy, almost showing the accuracy of our varied statuses.”

“I do not understand your meaning.”

“No matter,” Drakos said.

“State your meaning clearly.”

“One of us is worth thousands or tens of thousands of you.”

“New Man arrogance,” Thrax said, his pincers clacking more furiously than before. “One word, one motion from me, and you will all die.”

“I understand. One false move from you, and your hive will be terminated, and you with it.”

“How?”

“Do you recall the reactors?” Drakos asked.

“Of course.”

“Tell me how I did it.”

Thrax drew up to his full height, and he raised his pincers even higher. “I do not know how,” he said loudly.

Drakos nodded.

“What does your head gesture mean?” asked Thrax.

“Supremacy, let us stop this. We are allies. We are friends. You tried to teach me a lesson—or perhaps I should say, you planned to murder all of us and steal our star cruisers. You thought we had come to augment your fleet. Instead, you lost a few thousand soldier-workers and have learned just how dangerous twelve star cruisers full of superiors really are. We can annihilate you. Instead, we—meaning me—can grant you immortality. Surely, you wish to grow in strength instead of ceasing to be.”

Thrax eyed him as the bug slowly lowered his great pincers. “I have learned…” The bug lord lowered the pincers all the way to his sides. “We are friends. We are allies. Let us work together as you suggest.”

“Yes.”

“Let us seal that with knowledge. How can our hive gain a subservient queen?”

“Ah,” Drakos said, holding up an index finger. “Before I tell you, we must ensure that such a mishap as occurred here today does not happen again.”

“How can we do that?” asked Thrax.

“I have put myself in your care. Now, it is time to show my side and yours that you trust me as much as I trusted you.”

“You demand that I accompany you onto your flagship?”

“I do.”

“And if I refuse?” asked Thrax.

“Then, we shall leave.”

“To tell others where our hive is,” Thrax demanded.

“Not so,” Drakos said. “To tell others where your outpost lies.”

“You play dangerously, Drakos.”

“I know—Thrax.”

“No. I will not accompany you onto your flagship. I think you would try to put a control unit in me if I did.”

Drakos’s eyes narrowed. Thrax had just shown good judgment. That had been his plan exactly. The easiest way to gain control of a dictatorship was to control the dictator.

“Think of another safeguard,” Thrax said.

“I don’t need to, as you just passed my test. You showed me high intelligence. That means I can rely on your self-interest. What I’m about to say means you’ll have to trust me to achieve your goal. That will help me, and that will help you.”

“You thought I was stupid?”

“I thought you were foolish, like the other Swarm bugs. But you’re not. You’re something special, something more dangerous.”

Thrax bobbed up and down. Maybe that was his way of nodding. “I am the most cunning Swarm creature in existence.”

“Which is why I can trust you,” Drakos said. “I spoke before about the Builder Dyson Sphere. In particular, there was a Builder there.”

“That is obvious.”

“The Builder modified you, creating the Swarm hybrids. But he didn’t give you a queen.”

“He cloned us.”

“We’re not going to clone you. You need a queen, a female. No growing society is real without females. I’m even betting you need queens in order to fight and prosper.”

“What—”

“Please, Supremacy, don’t interrupt me as I’m giving you the secret to immortality, to greatness among the stars. You have an outpost. After I’m done, you’ll have a hive, a growing collective that can conqueror time and space.”

This time, Thrax said nothing.

“The key to this is the Builder,” Drakos said. “He modified Swarm creatures, and he modified humans. Two of those humans went on to modify humanity, in the end, creating the superiors, what others call New Men.”

“Are you are talking about Ludendorff and Strand?”

“I am.”

“What do they have to do…?” Thrax clacked his pincers as he bobbed up and down.

Drakos was getting a handle on Thrax. The clacking and bobbing meant he was agitated and excited. Maybe the bug finally saw the answer.

“You expect me to let the two Methuselah Men modify my Swarm creatures?” Thrax asked.

“They are the master geneticists in Human Space. They are the premier scientists. If anyone could manipulate chromosomes and genes, it is those two. I doubt you need both, but both would be better. Once we capture them, I’ll hand them over to you. You can bring them down to your hive and force them to create your queens.”

“I will never trust those two,” Thrax said. “I have always hated Ludendorff in particular.”

“We of the Throne World understand that. Strand ruled over us for a time, and we all chafed under his so-called guidance. The reason you don’t trust the Methuselah Men is that you are intelligent. No one should trust them. That doesn’t mean they can’t help you—if you take the right precautions. Remember, Supremacy, I have control units. You can have me insert the control units into their minds. Then, they will be your faithful servants.”

“Such mind tampering might damage their superior intelligence.”

“It’s your call,” Drakos said. “This is the way to immortality, however.”

“We must capture Ludendorff and Strand?” asked Thrax.

“That’s right.”

“Where is Ludendorff?”

“Last I heard, he was on Starship Victory.”

“Ah,” Thrax said. “You mean for us to defeat Captain Maddox for you.”

Drakos stiffened. He had not meant that, but if the bug wanted to think so… “You have unmasked me, Supremacy.”

“Where is Strand?”

“In the prison of the Emperor of the Throne World,” Drakos said, trying to keep the hatred out of his voice.

“Strand will be harder to capture.”

“Not necessarily,” Drakos said. “If we capture enough Throne World soldiers, we can simply make a trade.”

“Your Emperor would do this?”

“We would give him no choice, Supremacy.”

Thrax scuttled to the side. Then, he scuttled in the other direction. He shook his mantis-like head. Then, he began to bob up and down. Finally, he faced Drakos again. “You are cunning, and you are wise, Lord Drakos. Your idea is well thought-out. I admire your mind. I like the idea. I realize as well that I will need your aid in order to capture the Methuselah Men.”

Drakos smiled. He’d been counting on that.

“I would rather destroy you,” Thrax said. “I can admit that now. But you are dangerous, Lord Drakos. Will you not hurt your own kind by helping me?”

“Not if you help get me what I want.”

“What is it that you want?”

“You will need time, Supremacy, to grow. You will need time for Ludendorff and Strand to find the genetic answer. In order to gain this time… Well, let me back up. In grabbing these two, the submen and Throne World soldiers will recognize your existence.”

“Yes?”

“They will recognize the danger you bring to their continued existence. Thus, you must smash the power of the Throne World and the Commonwealth before you can gain your immortality.”

“You want us to conquer the two societies for you?”

“No. But we must break their power. That means decisively defeating Star Watch. Once that happens, according to my projections, the various elements in the Commonwealth will splinter. Some will side with me.”

“I understand. You want your own empire. You want to build on the ruins of the Commonwealth. But you hope to use my ships to create that destruction.”

Maybe the bug lord was a little too smart. That was exactly what Drakos wanted.

“We both need Star Watch destroyed, and preferably the Throne World, as well,” Thrax said. “But you cannot want the last thing. The Throne World is the home of your people.”

“But I do want the Throne World destroyed,” Drakos said. “Like you, I yearn for immortality and greatness. Do you care if the Imperium homeworld is destroyed?”

“No,” Thrax said.

“Then, you understand me, I think.”

Thrax regarded Drakos, finally bobbing up and down once more.

-6-

Almost ninety light-years and many weeks away from the Mira Binary System, Starship Victory came out of a Laumer Point and into an uncharted star system. At least, no Patrol map held any data concerning the system.

Galyan had data, but it was over six thousand years out of date.

Valerie sat in the command chair. Keith piloted, and Galyan stood near Valerie.

“Warning,” Andros said from his station. The Kai-Kaus Chief Technician had thinned these past weeks, and his cheeks looked positively gaunt. His fingers were still pudgy, however, and they moved smoothly across his board.

Valerie had swiveled the command chair toward him.

“I put it on the main screen,” Andros said.

Valerie swiveled toward the screen. On it appeared a bloom of light. “What is that?” she asked.

Andros tapped his board, peering at it closely. “Some kind of drive. It’s expelling gamma radiation.”

“It’s a gamma drive?” asked Valerie.

“That’s not what I meant,” Andros said. “It’s—”

Another bright bloom of light appeared.

“Gamma, X-ray and other hard radiation,” Andros said.

“Oh,” Galyan said. “That is an Orion drive.”

“Nuclear explosions?” asked Valerie.

“Exactly,” Galyan said. “The craft must have a heavy blast plate. The explosion propels the craft. It is rather primitive—”

“That wasn’t in your data banks?” Valerie snapped.

“In my memory, no,” Galyan said.

“That’s what I meant.”

“Then why did you not say what you meant, Valerie?”

“This isn’t the time to get touchy. You brought us here. You don’t have anything on possible defensive systems?”

“No,” Galyan said. “This was supposed to be a peaceful system.”

“It isn’t peaceful anymore,” Andros said. “Those are two missiles. I’m scanning. The missiles clearly detected us,” the Kai Kaus said. “I’m spying thousands of missiles, space mines.” His pudgy fingers roved over the board as he leaned forward, studying the incoming sensor data.

Andros tapped his board, superimposing a system diagram onto the main screen. The G-class star was 1.4 times the size of Sol. It had two terrestrial planets: one in a Venus-like orbit, and the other in a Mars-like orbit. There was nothing more except for a distant asteroid belt…in a Neptune-like orbit that was almost in the system’s Kuiper Belt. Victory had come out of a Laumer Point near the first terrestrial planet. The majority of space mines-missiles were between the starship and the second terrestrial planet. The missiles acted like mines.

More bright blooms appeared on the main screen, indicating more missiles accelerating at them.

“The nearest missile is one million, three hundred and forty-six kilometers from us and closing,” Andros said. “The next nearest is one million, three hundred and eighty-nine kilometers away. After that—”

“I get the picture, Chief Technician,” Valerie said. “Thank you.”

Andros nodded curtly.

“Are we in immediate danger?” Valerie asked.

“Negative,” Andros said. “In another day, it will be a different story.”

“How many space mines are in the system?”

Andros gave her a wondering glance.

“Are we near the—?” Valerie turned to Galyan. “Which planet, if any, holds the supposed sculpture?”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered.

“Please don’t tell me the ancient sculpture is in the asteroid belt,” Valerie said.

Galyan looked up. “No. The sculpture is on the second planet. There should be a vast structure, a city of pyramids.”

“Pyramids?” asked Valerie. “You mean these aliens have something to do with Builders? Or are they Builders?”

“Not Builders,” Galyan said slowly. “But something to do with Builders…? Yes, I think you are right, Valerie.”

The lieutenant swore under her breath.

“Do you think such a thing is bad?” asked Galyan.

“Do you see all these missiles out there?”

“Yes, Valerie, I see them.”

“How many space mines are in the inner system?” Valerie asked Andros.

“I’m still checking,” the Kai-Kaus said. “This will take some time.”

“A city of pyramids,” Valerie said in Galyan’s direction. “Why didn’t you mention that before? Pyramids on a planet could mean more androids. Maybe that’s why Ludendorff—”

“I have an approximate number,” Andros said, interrupting her. “Three billion—give or take several million.”

“How could you count three billion so quickly?” Valerie asked.

“It’s an estimate,” Andros said. “I divided the star system into parts and counted the number of space mines in one part. Then, I multiplied—”

“I get the picture,” Valerie said, interrupting. “The inner system is packed with lurker missiles.”

“Quite true,” Andros said.

“Which could make it hard getting Maddox onto the second planet,” she said.

“Not that hard,” Andros said. “We can star-drive jump there, launch a shuttle and leave via jump, bypassing the lurker missile belt. The shuttle lands on the planet and signals us when they’re ready to leave, and back we come to pick them up.”

“I can see a number of ways that could go wrong,” Valerie said dryly.

Andros spread his pudgy fingers and shrugged.

Valerie drummed her fingers on an armrest the way she’d seen the captain do on occasion. “For all we know, the lurker missiles will rain down on the planetary surface.”

“We can check to see if they’re programmed to do that,” Andros said. “If missiles have landed in the past, we should be able to tell. If they haven’t, they probably won’t now.”

Valerie bit her lower lip. She did not like the word “probably.” They were talking about Maddox’s life. What was the correct decision? Hmm… The captain held meetings sometimes to help him. Did she have the right to call one? What if they held a meeting, said no go and Maddox still wanted to go down to the city of pyramids?

“Keith, you have the bridge,” she said, standing, heading for the exit.

“Where are you going?” Keith asked.

She stopped and faced him. “I’m the acting captain,” she said. “That is therefore an inappropriate question.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Keith mumbled.

Valerie nodded, and then pointed at Galyan. “You’re coming with me.”

“Yes, Acting-Captain,” Galyan said. “I will be glad to.”

-7-

Sergeant Riker piloted the Darter Reynard. This was a bad idea, in a bad star system, to go down to a dubious location that the damned alien AI had computed for the captain.

Yeah, normally Riker liked Galyan, but this mission stank to high heaven. It was the AI’s brainchild, and yet now the holoimage conveniently couldn’t go down with them. From what Riker had heard, and he had been kept out of the loop for much of this, Galyan had to leave with Victory due to billions—that’s right—billions of Orion-drive space lurker missiles. The missiles were supposed to be well over six thousand years old, and yet the nuclear fuel worked well enough to propel the lurker missiles at Victory. Galyan was part of the starship, so ipso facto, the AI was leaving when the captain needed him most.

Riker grumbled to himself as he piloted the darter out of the hangar bay. Meta was in one of the darter rooms with Maddox. The captain slept most of the time these days. Meta had shaken him awake once to ask his permission to take him down onto the alien planet. Riker had been there as witness. It had taken the groggy Maddox almost a half hour to understand the question. When he was like this, how was Maddox supposed to view a sculpture and then do whatever would need doing to pump him full of soul energy?

Riker knew what all this meant. He was going to have to do the heavy lifting for Maddox. He was going to have to stand before a puzzle that probably only a di-far could solve. That’s what had Riker so angry, so moody. He didn’t mind risking his old hide to help save the young’un. What he didn’t want to do was fail the young pup. If saving everything was up to old Sergeant Riker…

“All right, all right,” he told himself. “Let’s not get worked up over this. Let’s concentrate and do this right.”

Keith should be here piloting the darter, but Keith was Victory’s ace. Lieutenant Noonan had made the correct decision in keeping the ace aboard the starship. She could not jeopardize the starship or the greater mission even for Captain Maddox.

Riker peered out of the polarized window. The planet looked sandy, a desert world of red and yellow sand and rock. There… Riker squinted, leaning forward. It looked like light, a ball of light, darted upward from the surface. The ball of light headed this way.

What could that mean?

The comm squawked before he could decide.

“Now what?” Riker muttered. He reached over and tapped a pad.

“You’re nearing the upper atmosphere,” Keith said from Victory. “You have to slow down and activate the repulsors. If you don’t, the darter is going to scream through the atmosphere like a comet, and you’ll all burn up.”

“Oh,” Riker said, seeing a blinking light on the pilot board. He’d been daydreaming instead of paying attention. He could fly flitters—and had been a glorified chauffer for Maddox on more than one occasion—but this was a spacecraft, an expensive and tricky one at that.

“Sergeant!” Keith said.

“Right, I see it,” Riker muttered, tapping the board.

“I can’t stick around and nurse-maid you down to the surface,” Keith said. “Do you have this or not?”

“I’m going to whip your butt once I get back.”

“Sure, old-timer, I’ll be waiting. Just make sure you make it.”

Keith sighed over the comm. Several seconds later, the starship vanished as it used its star-drive jump to bypass the mines and exit the system.

Riker gulped, and he scowled, concentrating, trying to remember everything about bringing a shuttle down through an atmosphere. If he screwed up this one, Maddox and Meta were dead. He couldn’t live with himself if he let that happen. Of course, he’d be dead then, too. So—

“Concentrate,” Riker hissed at himself. “Get this right, you old coot.”

***

The darter skipped and slid through the upper atmosphere because it came down too fast and the repulsors were at too weak a setting. A warning alarm rang in the cabin as the Reynard threatened to skip like a flat stone across the upper atmosphere and bounce back into space. If that happened—

Riker glanced at a tiny screen showing several lurker missiles already heading his way. The darter had to get under the atmosphere for its own protection.

Riker manipulated the pilot board as best he could—

The hatch slid up and Maddox staggered into the cabin. Meta screamed from behind in the corridor.

Riker turned around, staring at the captain, and it felt as if someone punched Riker in the stomach. The captain’s eyes glowed. It was not an expression or a metaphor; they glowed as if someone had snapped on arc lamps behind his eyes.

Meta raced up, and there was a welt on her right cheek. “He hit me,” she shouted.

“The captain?” Riker asked, dumbfounded.

“Something just floated through the bulkhead and into him,” Meta shouted, sounding hysterical.

“What do you mean, like a glowing space ball?” asked Riker, recalling the ball of light he’d seen earlier.

“Yes, yes,” Meta shouted. “It’s in Maddox. This is a hell planet. We have to get out of here. The thing is like a demon. It’s in him, and it took over. He’s a hybrid now.”

Riker looked up at Maddox working toward him. The captain’s eyes glowed, but there was a maniacal twist to the young man’s face that Riker had never seen before. It was evil.

The captain opened his mouth, and weird chuckles that froze Riker boomed as if from the captain’s gut.

“We have to restrain him,” Meta shouted. “But he’s gotten a lot stronger, so it’s not going to be easy.”

Riker unbuckled as a horrible taste welled up in his mouth. A piece of a Ska had once attached to his bionic hand. He still had nightmares about that sometimes. Now, this—Riker swallowed. He never would have had the time to get up, but this Maddox wove and stumbled as he headed his way. It was as if the thing in Maddox didn’t know yet exactly how to steer a human body.

“You fiend,” Riker shouted.

Meta and Riker converged upon Maddox. The hybrid whirled around, swinging at Meta. She was faster, ducked under the blow, and leaped closer, wrestling with the one arm.

Riker moved in, grabbing the other arm, using his bionic strength to force the arm behind the captain’s back.

The darter bucked across the atmosphere, and it indeed skipped, shaking the darter, heading back for space.

The three stumbled, but Meta and Riker held onto the captain’s arms.

“We have to get him in one of those stasis tubes!” Meta shouted.

Again, the booming, alien laugh echoed out of the captain’s open mouth.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Riker panted.

“Maddox lives or dies by our efforts,” Meta said, her eyes wild but determined.

Riker gritted his teeth. Meta grunted, struggling mightily to contain her husband’s body.

-8-

Maddox was all too aware of the thing inside his body. He knew it had caused him to strike his wife. Until that moment, he had been too weak to even complain to the…what was the thing inside him called?

Erill.

“What?” Maddox asked, even though he did not say that aloud, but in the citadel of his id.

I am Erill.

“Is that your species name or your own name?”

Vain creature, you know nothing.

The communication between them did something to the identity of Maddox. What was a person? Was it his mind? Was it his body? Was there something else that was a soul that could exist after death apart from the body? Maddox didn’t have the answer to that. All he knew was that his consciousness expanded as the Erill or Erill in him spoke to his being directly. In that moment, Maddox became aware of a vast conspiracy down on the planet.

It wasn’t the whole planet, just the one location on the surface. Maddox could sense in that moment with something other than sight, sound or other normal perceptions. He saw on a different plane. Yet he realized there was an ancient physical city down there. It consisted of gigantic pyramids constructed of vast stones cunningly fit together. The city of pyramids was far older than Galyan had let on. Yes, the AI had said this place was ancient even during the time of the Adoks. The place was haunted—

That wasn’t exactly right, but to Maddox the sense of the meaning was “haunted.” The thing—the Erill—in him wasn’t a demon, a fallen angel from a heavenly pantheon, but an alien entity akin in ways to the Ska.

I am not Ska, the Erill told Maddox.

The captain understood two things. The Erill knew about Ska, and the Erill was not a Ska as it had communicated. But the Erill was like a Ska in that it did not originate in this universe. It came from a different plane of existence or reality.

The people of this planet—not even the Erill remembered their name or physical shape, it had been so long ago—had delved into strange sciences. They had opened the tiniest of gateways into another plane of existence. The breach had threatened this realm in ways neither the Erill nor Maddox understood. At some point, a host of Erill came through the opening, and they devoured the aliens here on this side. They consumed the aliens from within, and afterward became a planet of ghosts. Not real ghosts as spirit things from the bodies of living entities, but alien creatures fashioned on different principles than the creatures of this realm of existence.

Afterward, a Builder—

The Erill in Maddox screamed internally, hating the Builders above all others.

Maddox caught a flash from the entity’s consciousness. In that moment, he understood. A Builder had investigated long ago, and the Builder had died most gruesomely. But it had sent a message to other Builders. Those Builders logically inferred what had happened, and they must have realized that this planet must be quarantined…forever. The Builders had also shut the gate to the other realm.

Not forever, the Erill said. Few of us are left. Even we extinguish in time. But now, I will live long. I will use you material beings to forge a new gate to my realm. Many will come and feast on you physical things.

In the citadel of his id, Maddox closed his eyes wearily. He realized now why Galyan had sent him to this place. He was the di-far. He had to deal with yet another issue that could consume humanity. This was a latent threat, but it was out here in a region of space where mankind would eventually grow, provided humanity lasted long enough.

The Erill mocked him. You can do nothing. You are weak. Your will is small. Soon, I will own this flesh. Then, I will consume. Then, I will use many, many beings, beginning with Ri-ker and Me-ta.

Maddox recognized his ineffectual state, and understood that he wasn’t even strong enough to open his body’s eyes. The Erill had taken over his body. Soon, it would devour his mind, and then power itself from his soul. Was that possible?

“I am Captain Maddox. I am the di-far. I can change the course of history. There must be something I can do.”

You can do nothing but wail in defeat and cease existence. It is your lot.

Maddox refused to accept that. He’d faced a Builder before. That had been on the Dyson Sphere. Could the Builder have foreseen his conflict with the Erill? The Builder and Maddox had fought on a strange level, with Galyan wired to meet the Builder in a way they could defeat it. Yet, the Builders had fashioned the Methuselah Men. One Builder had installed a deep memory in Ludendorff, and due to that, the professor had created a weapon that had helped to defeat a Ska.

I am not Ska. I am an Erill. I am greater and wiser.

Maddox rejected the idea. He searched his memories. He sought to remember the day he had faced the Builder of the Dyson Sphere. It had been an ancient creature. Clearly, Builders had fought for life for millennia. They almost seemed like an older-brother type of alien life that helped the younger races.

“I must be missing something.”

Only the good sense to die in despair, the Erill told him. I’m weary of your banter. I have better things to do.

Maddox caught a glimpse of what those ‘better’ things were. The Erill physically fought Meta and Riker, and in some way, Maddox’s thoughts made it harder on the Erill to coordinate the captain’s body.

That encouraged Maddox. He sought—

Suddenly, his memory exploded with his and Galyan’s fight against the Builder. They had sought to extinguish the Builder. It had fought back, and it had also…it had also…

Maddox had the odd sensation that the Builder had tried to tell him something back then. It had struggled to implant a thought, a way—

Cease this, the Erill said. If you will not—

“I won’t,” Maddox said. “I’ll resist you until I’m dead.”

Then you have sealed your fate, human. It is time for you to die!

-9-

Maddox sensed the Erill turning back against him. The entity had been attempting to force his body to do something critical—

The body had fought Meta and Riker. His wife and friend now slammed his body onto the floor, turning him onto his stomach. They hogtied him. He’d been trying to overpower them in order to bring the darter down into the howling city of pyramids. There—

Maddox’s perceptions abruptly changed. He stood—in his id he did, anyway—on a spongy substance like the flooring in an alien Destroyer. This flooring, however, had fern-like trees towering around them.

Them?

Maddox was wearing a Star Watch uniform, and he faced a great shambling creature that seemed almost all head and teeth. It was a horror monster, with enough appendages on the bottom to move and beady little eyes that tracked him whichever way he moved.

“You’re an Erill?” Maddox’s id asked.

I am your conception of an Erill.

“Then what are you really?”

Your Master and Devourer, the Erill told him.

Maddox scowled.

As he did, the head and teeth monster transformed into a long serpent-like creature. It was a great python with black eyes like drips of oil. The python did not crawl toward him, though. It shot off the spongy ground and flew at him through the air.

The Erill attempted to wind around Maddox like an Earthly python.

Maddox threw himself onto the spongy ground, ducking the attack.

The great Erill python floated away, halting its flight and slowly turning. That seemed to take time and—not mental effort, but a different kind of effort.

To Maddox’s horror, he happened to glance at his right hand. It was transparent. He could not understand why.

I am draining you of life essence.

“I don’t feel the drain.”

No, you ignoramus. You are devouring the last of your life essence or soul energy fighting me. I don’t have to eat you. I merely need tire you enough until your will vanishes just like your body here is disappearing.

There seemed to be logic to the idea. Maddox accepted the dream logic, and he understood the Erill’s strategy.

Do you really? the Erill asked. Then stop fighting me.

“And let you devour me? No, I don’t think so.”

You are doomed, O man. You are mine. Then, your wife and—

Maddox scowled as a thought struck him. Was this sudden idea from the Builder of old? The captain stared at his hand, and he imagined it long and sharp as a sword. Even though his hand and now arm were almost transparent, they lengthened and seemed to turn into a translucent steely substance.

The floating Erill python no longer mocked, but watched him closely. How are you doing that? No hard material creature has ever been able to do that here.

“It’s a mystery,” Maddox said.

I sense Builder thoughts and ways in you. Are you connected to the lost Builders?

“I suppose I must be.”

I want clear answers. Answer me, or—

Maddox laughed. “Or what?”

The python began drifting faster at him, and it coiled tight as it did. I can still devour you. You will find it quite unpleasant.

A symbol appeared in Maddox’s mind. It was a strange symbol and glowed with faint power.

Do not think that, the Erill commanded. As it did, the python gained speed.

Maddox reached out with his free hand and grabbed the floating symbol. It had once belonged to a Builder. It was hot, and it made him gasp. With sure knowledge, a flooding of it, Maddox threw the symbol at his sword arm. He made a fist with his other hand and repeatedly banged the symbol into his translucent steel-flesh as if at a forge striking real steel on an anvil.

No! the Erill shouted. It uncoiled and flew at the captain. Like an arrow, the entity from another realm, one that had haunted this ancient city of pyramids for well over six thousand years, sped faster yet. The python-thing opened its fanged mouth, and it expanded at an exponential rate. Like a shark, the Erill opened its mouth wide and attempted to swallow Maddox as a great fish had Jonah.

Maddox shouted in an alien tongue, the words twisting in his mouth so they burned like fire. The sword arm burst into flames, and he thrust deep into the Erill’s soul, or whatever made up its reality.

The Erill screamed as the flame-sword bit deep into its substance. Maddox continued to chant the odd words that burned like fire on his lips. Then a torrent of fiery power or soul energy flooded his being through his sword-arm. Maddox bellowed in agony and yet it was glorious and deeply fulfilling. He did not know, and then he did. He wounded the Erill, and that substance was exactly the life essence his body craved.

With the fire sword embedded in the creature’s soft inner tissue, the power continued to flow into Maddox’s depleted body. It was like a desert sucking up rainwater. The dryness was so deep that the desert just soaked up more and more. So it was for Captain Maddox in this bizarre realm.

The Erill struggled and thrashed to free itself. You are a thing: a material creature. This is not possible. I cannot cease. I do not want to cease. I have devoured so many you cannot conceive of it. I am but a portion of what I once was. Stop, Captain Maddox, and I will give you the desires of your heart.

“Die and I will be happy.”

You do not understand the nature of the bargain. You must trade me something I desire. Oh, oh, oh, I see that you do understand. You are mocking me. Know then—

A scream of something insubstantial and yet real rolled against Maddox’s id. It expelled him from the spongy dream-state where he must have imagined all this. His id soared like an eagle higher and higher yet. He sensed the floating symbol that had aided him. It was the personal glyph of the Builder which Galyan and he had slain in the Builder Dyson Sphere. The symbol meant—

Before Maddox could grasp the meaning, his eyes flew open, the eyes of his real flesh-and-blood body. Smoke poured in the cabin, and the klaxon was blaring. Something dreadful was going to happen, but Maddox couldn’t figure out what that was.

-10-

Maddox rose from the deck coughing, his eyes watering. Flames danced in the cabin. Meta and Riker were on the deck, twitching although otherwise unconscious.

Maddox leapt to an emergency station, pulling out a red fire-retardant unit. He hosed foam onto the flames, the sound loud in his ears. The air conditioning unit tried to draw out the smoke, but there was too much to handle.

Maddox’s mind coped perfectly, however. He’d already put a breathing mask over his face, pulling pure air into his lungs. In seconds, he had emergency breathing masks on Meta and Riker. He whirled around, his thoughts working at lightning speed. The pilot board still functioned, even though it must be over one hundred and twenty degrees in the cabin.

Maddox moved to the board, scanning—he saw it almost instantly. The darter had skipped, almost back into space. An emergency sensor had indicated an approaching missile. An override autopilot had changed the darter’s course, turning it back down toward the planet. The little scout ship had gone down at too steep an angle. Now, the nose of the craft had become red hot and some things inside the ship were bursting into fire.

Maddox fought the controls even as he knew he needed to strap down his wife and sergeant. He bared his teeth as his fingers blurred and neurons fired in his mind.

“Galyan, Galyan, can you hear me?”

There was no answer.

That meant Victory must have been out of communicator range, otherwise the holoimage would have appeared in order to assess the situation in here.

With his uniform sleeve, Maddox wiped the sweat pouring from his face. This was glorious. He was battling for life, and he could feel everything within him working again. If anything, his mind and body was working better than it used to. He might even have an excess of soul energy or life essence.

Had he really found the Erill? Did such alien entities exist down there on the ancient planet?

The darter shook and more emergency klaxons began to blare.

“Mayday, mayday,” Maddox said into the comm. “If you can hear me, Lieutenant Noonan, get the ace into a tin can to pick us up. I’m going to try—”

Maddox slammed the piloting panel with an open hand. He didn’t want to break anything, and he had a feeling that he was stronger than he used to be, so he hadn’t hit the board with a fist. Faster than he ever had, remembering every procedure, Maddox set a small fold course, energized the unit and—

For a moment, he seemed to blank out. It was Jump Lag or Fold Lag. The little darter had folded out of the planet’s atmosphere but hadn’t lost its velocity. The Reynard moved back toward the planet, but the beginning upper atmosphere was over two hundred thousand kilometers away. There was no moon, but he saw a hundred pinpricks on the sensor board.

Those were lurker missiles out there. They had zeroed in on the darter with their Orion drives activating with nuclear explosions. In that moment, Maddox realized these missiles—they also seemed to act like mines—couldn’t be over six thousand years old. Wouldn’t the half-life of the nuclear fuel—

He spied the lurker missile factory. It looked like a black asteroid. But according to the readings on his board, it was even now producing more lurker missiles to replace those that had detonated.

How many more folds did the darter have in it? Maddox studied the board—and he recognized black disaster in the making. He had made the fold. He had avoided a burning death—even now, the cabin was rapidly cooling—but something had blown inside the darter’s main engine core. The darter had velocity, but that was it. There was no more motive power.

Maddox lowered his head like a bull, his brows furrowed as he thought furiously. Victory had clearly jumped away earlier. He had been out when Meta had learned the mission’s parameters. Could he recall anything he’d heard while unconscious?

Maddox fanned through his memories, but defeating the Erill hadn’t given him new powers. It had just replenished his soul energy. He brimmed with it right now. It felt tremendous to be alive, and he could understand ideas that used to baffle him.

He shook his head. Surviving this damned planet and the last Erills down there in the city of pyramids—

Meta groaned as she stirred on the deck.

“Don’t move,” Maddox said. “You must have smoke damage to your lungs.”

Meta raised her head off the deck and peered at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked sick. A second later, she collapsed back onto the deck.

Maddox gritted his teeth, grinding his back molars together. He was going to survive this place. Meta and Riker deserved to live. He owed a lot of people, including the Iron Lady. It was time to start paying back his friends and family. First, though—

“Mayday, mayday, can anyone hear me?”

“I hear you, Captain Maddox.”

The captain whirled around in his seat. “Galyan, you Adok devil. Victory must have jumped back here.”

“That is correct, sir. I see my prognosis was correct. The planet, a sculpture down there, I believe, provided you with a cure.”

“There was no sculpture.”

“A small error, I see.”

“A huge error, Galyan. You almost made sure Meta, Riker and I were devoured by alien demons.”

“Excuse me, sir, but this is a poor time for humor. The starship will make one more fold. You were not in the position we saw earlier. Luckily for you, sir, Valerie was taking precautions, and wanted to make sure you were okay. You were joking about the space demons, were you not, sir?”

“No,” Maddox said.

The AI holoimage swallowed visibly. “Sir, I do not understand. I am so sorry, Captain Maddox—”

“No harm, no foul,” Maddox said, working to control his emotions. He wasn’t angry, but full of life, full of energy. That was thanks to Galyan and to—could he call it fate?

“What happened, sir, if you do not mind me asking?”

“Is the Reynard in the hangar bay?”

“I understand, sir. You want me to stop talking about space demons until the proper moment.”

“Right. Now let’s do this.”

-11-

“I do not know how I could have gotten it so wrong,” Galyan said. “Perhaps my memory files were corrupted. I am very sorry—”

“Galyan,” Maddox said, interrupting. “If you say sorry one more time… No more, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox stood at the head of the conference table, having retold the story to a healed Meta and Riker, and to Galyan, Valerie and Keith. Andros was upstairs on the bridge, using long-range sensors to observe the second planet and the masses of lurker missiles. Victory was outside the weaker sensor range of the hidden asteroid factory that did more than just create the Orion-drive weapons. It also acted as the lurker missile director.

“Is this a haunted star system?” Valerie asked. “It sure feels haunted.”

Maddox had trouble keeping still. He positively brimmed with energy. He was back, but with more energy and verve than ever before. He had been standing, finding it difficult to sit still.

“Ska-like aliens inhabit the system,” Maddox said.

“The second planet,” Galyan corrected.

“They’re dying,” Maddox said. “Or many of them have perished since they first came through a gate. If Ludendorff were awake, he might be able to tell us more.”

“Are you going to wake him now, sir?” Valerie asked.

Maddox chewed on that, nodding shortly. “But we’re not going to wait here for the professor to revive. It’s time I called the Lord High Admiral and found what we’re supposed to do about the Swarm colony world. I imagine we’re gathering forces and have already sent them.”

“I can tell you that, sir,” Valerie said.

“Oh?” asked Maddox. “You’ve spoken to the Lord High Admiral?”

“Two times while you were incapacitated. I should have—”

Maddox waved that aside. “No recriminations please. I’ve been out of it, sleeping most of the time. I’m grateful for everything all of you have been doing. This is a good time for an update. If you will, Lieutenant.”

“There’s not much to tell. A fleet is heading for the Beyond, as you surmised. The Throne World is sending a flotilla. We’re going to join them as the people on Pluto attempt to pinpoint the enemy’s position and count warships.”

“The Builder Scanner,” Maddox said. “Yes, this will be just like the original Swarm Invasion. With the Builder Scanner and the long-range Builder comm devices, we can coordinate and hopefully hit them when they’re unsuspecting.”

“And hit the main base, the new Swarm colony world,” Valerie said. “That’s what Pluto is attempting to discover. If Lord Drakos has already reached Commander Thrax, the New Man might be able to warn them about the scanner. But even knowing about the scanner, I don’t see how they can avoid its power.”

“Neither do I, provided the colony world is in the Mira System. But let’s not get complacent. This pyramid-city system is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I don’t know how to go down and destroy the rest of the Erills. I got lucky against the Erill that came up. Maybe being in space, or in near-orbital space, weakened it. For all we know, being on the surface strengthens the Erills.”

“I recommend that you wake Professor Ludendorff and get his opinion on the Erills,” Galyan said. “I feel simply awful sending you down to—”

“Don’t say it, Galyan,” Valerie warned.

The Adok holoimage fell silent.

Maddox slapped his chest with both hands. It felt wonderful to be awake and have all his strength back. Now, he could deal with problems the way he used to. He hadn’t felt this good since first facing the Ska in the Alpha Centauri System.

Drakos had made his move, bringing Commander Thrax Ti Ix back into the scheme of things. Maddox scanned his inner circle of friends. Finally, they were going to finish the Swarm War for good and—

Maddox squinted. He was going to find out if Drakos was his father, and if not, who was. This time, he wasn’t going to take silence for an answer.

-12-

Maddox paced back and forth as he smacked a fist into a waiting palm. He was in a gym, but he hadn’t started lifting. He opened and closed his hands, wondering what was wrong with him.

There was no one else in here with him. He’d decided to wait several days before he tackled Ludendorff. He had started to wonder if something might be a little off with him. This was a test, you could say. His innards seethed with the desire to do something strenuous. The last two nights, he had only slept for an hour each time.

Maddox smacked a fist into his palm again. If anything, he had too much energy. He could hardly keep still. What had his body, or spirit, or soul, or whatever it had been, absorbed from the Erill?

Maddox hopped up and down as if he was skipping rope, but there was no rope. He just needed to move. He—

Maddox shouted with frustration. Could he have too much energy? He was beginning to wonder. Valerie had called it a haunted star system. Had killing the Erill, grabbing its life essence, done something to him?

“Okay, okay,” Maddox said. He breathed deeply and expelled the air in a rush. He began hopping up and down again.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. He wasn’t going to become a freak because he had taken too much of the Erill into his being. Many called him a half-breed. Maddox hated the term. He was, he was—Maddox shook his head. This was starting to get annoying. He wanted to lift, but here he—

“Sir.”

Maddox whirled around as he took on a combat stance.

Galyan drifted back, alarmed.

“Oh,” Maddox said, standing normally. “It’s you. What is it, Galyan?”

“Meta suggested I check up on you.”

“Why?”

“Pardon, sir?”

“Why would—did she tell you about my sleepless nights?”

“She told Sergeant Riker. He told me, sir, wondering if I had an Adok remedy for you.”

“Do you?”

“You seem agitated, sir. I notice you cannot hold still. Many New Men have similar problems.”

“What are you suggesting?” Maddox snapped.

“Sir, I am your friend. I do not mean to imply anything wrong with you. I dearly want to help. I feel responsible for what—”

“What did I say about you saying sorry too many times?”

“I know,” Galyan said. “And yet, it was my suggestion that led to this.”

Maddox snorted. “You’re looking at this the wrong way. You’ve alerted us to a nearby danger, the Erills in the city of pyramids. In alerting us, you also gave me the means to restore my energy. Only now, it appears I have too much. Is that ironic?”

“It is most certainly ironic, Captain.”

Maddox smiled faintly.

“Ah. That was a rhetorical question,” Galyan said. “I wish I knew when a person asked a real question and when it was rhetorical.”

“Voice inflection is critical.”

“Thank you, sir. I will remember that. I do have a suggestion for you.”

“Oh?” asked Maddox.

“As you know, I have studied much Earth history since joining the crew. Some of your ancient peoples practiced martial arts. They often had to reach heightened mental states in order to perform their greatest combat feats. Meditation often helped in this. Some were called Zen masters. Later, the term Way of the Pilgrim or Pilgrim Calm became—”

“And…?” Maddox asked impatiently, wishing the AI would get to the point.

“Meditation, sir; you must practice meditation in order to reach a heightened state of calm. Once there, perhaps you will be able to control your excess energy and sit still or maybe even sleep at night. It is self-calming, gaining self-control.”

“You’re saying I lack self-control?”

“To a degree, sir, yes,” Galyan said. “You have the power but now you have too much energy, more than you know how to handle. Learning the Way of the Pilgrim might help you become yourself again.”

Maddox blinked rapidly, finally realizing he had to do something. He was going crazy with this seething, tumbling excess of energy.

“Explain this Way of the Pilgrim in detail,” Maddox said.

“Of course, sir,” Galyan said.

The AI began explaining, looking up details as he delved deeper into the subject.

Finally, Maddox began to breathe deeply, attempting to calm himself, to rest, to gain peace as he attempted this Pilgrim Calm. During the process, Galyan departed. Maddox hardly noticed. As he mediated, succeeding for short bursts of time to gain the Way, the butterflies, the churning in his gut and the twitching in his muscles departed. That brought such blessed relief and encouragement that he continued trying.

The captain was unaware of the passage of time. He practiced, grew frustrated and then had another moment of calm.

He called for Galyan and asked for more explanations. The AI gave them, leaving once again as the captain threw himself into practicing.

Finally, Maddox sat cross-legged in the gym with his back ramrod straight. He breathed deeply and evenly and the terrible churning in his stomach had gone away. He recognized the energy within him. It was a coiled mass, much as the Erill had coiled its giant python body. A giant was resting in him. If he didn’t control the mass of energy, it would drive him mad.

Maddox practiced for hours, for days, for far longer than he realized. At last, in a Pilgrim state, he lay down and closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

Galyan immediately appeared. He had been watching for five days now. He did not think the captain understood the passage of time. But it was good to see Maddox sleep. There was something new in the man. That something had come about because he—Galyan—had made a terrible error. He had almost delivered the captain into the hands of dreadfully monstrous aliens.

“I must be more careful,” Galyan told himself. “If I am not careful, I might lose my friends sooner than I realize.”

The incident on the Haunted Planet had begun to disturb Galyan. He had realized a new thing with bitter clarity. His friends—his family—were all too mortal. They would die in fifty years or less. Ludendorff would likely continue, but was the Methuselah Man really his friend? Galyan realized that he would go on and on. But Valerie, Meta, Keith, Riker and Captain Maddox would die in time. He would never be with them again then. They were his best friends. The idea of going through endless existence without his good friends beside him—

The little Adok holoimage shook his head. He had lost his wife. He had lost his world. He could not stand to lose his best friends. He did not want to be alone again. Meta, Valerie, Keith, Riker and Maddox knew him. They were his cherished ones. He wanted them to be with him as long as he existed. To never hear Valerie’s voice again as she encouraged him…

“Please,” Galyan said. “I cannot bear to think about this.”

He hung his head. If Captain Maddox, Meta and Riker had died on the Haunted Planet—

“Thank you, sir,” Galyan said softly to the sleeping Maddox. “Thank you for surviving and keeping my awful grief at bay a few more years. You need help with your new energy. I need help knowing that all of you will pass away much sooner than I will. I have lived more than six thousand years. I want to keep talking to you, helping you, being needed by you—”

Maddox snorted in his sleep, turning his head the other way.

Galyan fell silent. He had almost woken the captain. The man needed his sleep. A human mind had to let its subconscious reorder the brain or the human would go mad. If Maddox had not found the Way of the Pilgrim…

“I helped him,” Galyan whispered.

The little Adok holoimage smiled, although it was a sad smile. What would he do when his friends finally passed away?

“I wish I could stop thinking about this,” Galyan whispered.

He looked around, and he decided that the best thing to do was to keep watching over his friends. He would cherish the moments of life with them. Then, in ages to come, he could play back these cheerful moments and smile once more.

In such a manner, the little Adok watched over Maddox as the captain slept.

-13-

Maddox woke refreshed, and he found it easier entering the Way of the Pilgrim to control his excess energy. That he had been in the gym for days startled and almost broke through the meditative, harmonious state. He thought about it and finally realized it made sense.

With his excess soul energy, he could concentrate harder and longer without exhausting his mental vitality. The unbridled energy was giving him trouble. He had been unable to settle down, to focus his mind enough to truly harness his new verve. But once his verve was harnessed—

Maddox clapped his hands together as he strode for the med center.

Once there, he spoke to the chief medical officer, listening to what they knew about Ludendorff’s condition. Valerie had put him in the stasis tube after smashing the back of his head to knock him unconscious—

“I’m familiar with the event,” Maddox said, but there was no exasperation in his voice. Yes, a part of him wanted the doctor to just get it said, but he harnessed that impatience, throttling it lest it cause him to lash out needlessly.

Every action needed a concrete reason. In this Pilgrim state, he was trying to be mindful of everything he did. Normally, a person did not have enough energy to do this for long. Maddox had more than enough.

The captain nodded as the doctor droned on about Ludendorff. It made the doctor feel important. The man was important. Thus, Maddox was honoring the doctor by letting him explain at length.

Finally, however, Maddox had a med team take Ludendorff out of stasis and set him on a gurney. He had them wheel the “thawing” professor to a different chamber. The team hooked up Ludendorff, giving his body nutrients and stimulation to his flabby muscles.

In theory, stasis meant to freeze a subject and leave him as is. Entropy always entered the picture, though. They lacked the perfect medical tech, and over time, a subject’s muscles withered away. That was over years, however, not the short time Ludendorff had been in stasis.

Maddox left the team to their task, getting something to eat, speaking to several crewmembers and returning two hours later.

The captain’s metabolism was even faster than before the Ska-wounding several years ago. It meant Maddox had to eat more often and also eat more. It would also mean that alcohol would have even less effect on him than previously.

“He’s coming around, sir,” the team leader said.

“Thank you,” Maddox said. “You’re dismissed.”

After they left, Maddox looked around, moved some furniture, picked up an e-reader and sat back against a soft chair. He read, picking a technical journal to peruse. He continued reading as Ludendorff stirred, mumbled a few questions and finally secretly looked around.

The captain could hear the sheets rustle.

Finally, Ludendorff swore.

Maddox lowered the e-reader. “You’re awake?”

The professor eyed him, grunted, frowned and finally twisted around. He put his pillows up against the head rail and sat up in bed.

“How long have I been here?” Ludendorff asked.

Maddox set aside the e-reader, breathing evenly as he studied the professor. There was a slight stiffness to the man’s left cheek, and that eyelid drooped a little. So, despite what the medical people had said, the incident had left some damage.

“I want to file charges against your people,” Ludendorff said.

“Which people?” asked Maddox.

Ludendorff scowled, and he winced. “They left permanent brain damage,” the professor whispered. “I cannot believe this. Do you know what Lieutenant Noonan did to me?”

“Precisely and in exacting detail,” Maddox said. “I commended her for her actions.”

“It’s going to be like that, eh?”

“No. Not like that. I’m disappointed in you—”

“Save it,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “I’m leaving Victory for good.”

“I know.”

“You do?” asked Ludendorff. “How? And don’t tell me Galyan predicted that was what I would say.”

“I’m taking you home, to Earth. The Lord High Admiral has already agreed to your prison term.”

“What prison? You have no right to put me in prison.”

“You attacked my people. You aided androids. If you weren’t a Methuselah Man, I would recommend death by firing squad.”

Ludendorff stared at Maddox. Soon, he rubbed his chin. “What happened to you, my boy? You’re different. I thought you lacked energy. You’re brimming with it, but there’s something else, too. What is it?”

Maddox shook his head. “You’re no longer privy to Star Watch information. You’re a known criminal who helped the enemy. It’s out of my hands.”

Ludendorff spoke a single vulgar expletive.

“Your only hope is for some leniency,” Maddox said. “You’re a Methuselah Man. You should outlive your sentence. What was your goal this time, Professor?”

Ludendorff stared at him. It was obvious that wheels were turning in the Methuselah Man’s brain. “This is a setup,” the professor said at last.

Maddox said nothing.

“You’re too eager,” Ludendorff said. “You’re trying to hide it, my boy, but I see right through you.”

Maddox still said nothing.

Ludendorff crossed his arms as he stared up at the ceiling.

Maddox used his newfound Way, relaxing in his chair, breathing evenly, concentrating—

“I can’t believe this,” Ludendorff said. “Look at you. Captain Maddox is meditating. I can see it in your eyes. Is this an oriental version?”

“What?” asked Maddox.

“Asian, Zen Meditation,” Ludendorff declared. “Why are you doing that?”

“You’re wrong. It isn’t Asian or Buddhist. I’m using a superior method. But that isn’t important. The subject is you, not me.”

“This is most odd. You’re not tired in the least,” Ludendorff said, the wheels clearly turning in his mind again. He eyed the captain carefully.

Maddox didn’t like that, as he felt like a specimen.

Ludendorff snapped his fingers several times. “You were dead tired last time I saw you. It’s why you didn’t go on the darter mission. Now something has happened to change your state. Yet…as far as I know, this should be impossible. It was the damned Builder light weapon that originally weakened you. The Ska—” The professor shook his head. “Your new state in here implies expanded…soul energy I believe you called it.”

“Professor—”

“Now, now,” Ludendorff said, snapping his fingers again. “This is interesting, fascinating. Galyan!”

“Professor—”

“You called, sir?” Galyan asked, appearing in the chamber.

“No,” Maddox said. “Ludendorff called. Surely, you know that.”

“Oh. Yes, well, I suppose I did,” Galyan said.

“Say,” Maddox said. “You were spying on us. How otherwise did you appear when Ludendorff called? This spying will cease immediately.”

“I know you desire privacy, sir,” Galyan said. “But since the incident—”

“What incident?” asked Ludendorff, interrupting.

The little Adok glanced from the professor to the captain. “Oh, no, sir, I wasn’t supposed to refer to that, was I?”

“No,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff chuckled. “I’m the professor. I’m…” His eyes narrowed. He shook his head a moment later. “No. I don’t believe this is a pre-planned trick. I would see through something like that, and you two would know that. So…what happened to the captain? What are you trying to hide?”

Galyan disappeared from the chamber.

“The meditation is the signpost,” Ludendorff said, undeterred. “Yes, yes, I’m beginning to perceive the situation. In some fashion, you received an influx of energy. This is basic, life stuff energy, not drugs or other stimulated processes I’m witnessing.” The professor tilted his head back, perhaps to aid his thinking. “I’m not seeing it,” he said in a short time later. “By that I mean I cannot understand how one can receive such an influx of energy on a permanent basis.”

“And you’re not going to see,” Maddox said. “So, if you want to waste your time on that, go ahead. I want to know why you collared Valerie and Keith like animals while the three of you were aboard the darter.”

“Slaves,” Ludendorff said. “I collared them like slaves, not animals. The reason was simple indeed. I didn’t want any interruptions as I attempted my plan.”

“I can understand that part. But why the android lookalikes? Why store androids in the darter after the Android War?”

Ludendorff blushed for just a moment. It was hardly any shade of red at all, but it was there.

“I’ve never witnessed that before, Professor. Are you embarrassed by your actions? That would be a new development.”

The Methuselah Man shrugged.

“What could possibly embarrass you?” Maddox said. “Oh!”

Ludendorff glared at him.

“This has nothing to do with Lord Drakos or Commander Thrax,” Maddox said. “This has to do with Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers.”

There was the barest tightening of Ludendorff’s eyes.

“Do you hate Lisa Meyers? Fear her?” asked Maddox. “Or are you in love with her?”

“Why not all three?” mumbled Ludendorff, “or none of them,” he added. “One thing I do know. The woman did not utter idle threats. She’s coming back, and she’s going to return with trouble.”

“And for that you needed to go to this planet?”

Ludendorff looked away, although he nodded shortly.

“Why do it now?” asked Maddox.

“It was a precaution,” Ludendorff said slowly. “I had to set it in motion. The androids were going with me to a particular place. Meaning I would have left Valerie and Keith in the stasis tubes while I went to this place. I didn’t want to risk your precious crewmembers down there.”

“You had android lookalikes to save Valerie and Keith from any harm?”

“That would have been a side effect, but that wasn’t my primary reason for what I did. I think you realize that. I wouldn’t have trusted those two to do what needed doing. The precaution, the setting in motion of a safeguard, is not going to happen now. I’m not going to tell you where the planet is and what I planned to do upon landing. I tried and failed, and got my head bashed in for my efforts. If you want to lock me up for that, go ahead, my boy. See if I care if you all turn to ashes without me.”

Maddox stood and headed for the hatch.

“Where are you going?” Ludendorff asked.

Maddox stopped at the hatch and regarded the professor. He smiled in a predatory way, then he went through the hatch, sealing it behind him.

It was time to keep Ludendorff on ice, as the old saying went. The professor wasn’t going to talk. Fine. Maddox would keep the Methuselah Man in solitary confinement until the professor was ready to answer any question he asked the man.

-14-

“This is highly irregular, sir,” Mary O’Hara said.

The Lord High Admiral hardly noticed that she had spoken. A shift of his head, a glance of his eyes, and then the old man of Star Watch continued to brood as he stared out of one of the shuttle’s windows.

The two of them sat side by side in a passenger compartment of a larger class shuttle. The stars blazed outside, and then there was a cold dark circular blot.

Mary had the window seat. She used it now as she peered out at dark Pluto. It was a dwarf planet in the Kuiper Belt, the largest and second most massive in the Solar System. The dwarf planet was primarily composed of ice and rock and had one-third Luna’s volume and one-sixth its mass.

Pluto had one great distinction. It housed the Builder Scanner that Maddox had brought back from Sind II many years ago already. Three Bismarck-class battleships guarded Pluto, along with several disrupter cannon satellites and other surface defenses, making it a strongpoint in the Solar System.

The Lord High Admiral had journeyed from Earth in the Sargon, using the Conqueror-class battleship’s star-drive jump. With its new heavy metal components, the Sargon could likely take on and defeat the three Bismarck-class battleships, even though the Sargon only had fifty percent greater mass than one of the older battleships.

The Sargon was behind them now as the shuttle continued for Pluto.

It was funny in a way. Maddox had brought the Builder Scanner back home in order to give Star Watch an edge against any invading Imperial Swarm. The scanner had proven instrumental in the two Swarm Wars.

As a long-range Builder comm device could do with sound, the scanner could record sensor images from far beyond what seemed reasonable or even conceivable. It could, in fact, scan hundreds of light-years away. The technicians running the scanner had complained about power drains recently. The scanner seemed to be reaching the present limit of its sensor abilities as it reached out to the Mira Binary System over three hundred light-years from Earth.

It was funny because Star Watch was once again using the Builder Scanner against Swarm creatures, some of the same Swarm creatures that had originally invaded Human Space.

“Oh,” O’Hara said, as the shuttle shifted sharply, heading down.

The dark surface of Pluto seemed to rush up. Down there, giant hangar bay doors would be opening. O’Hara had never been on Pluto before. She couldn’t believe that Cook was still seeking her advice. The old man wasn’t letting her be by herself, though. He had more security than ever guarding the two of them. She had become his personal advisor despite the rays that had once caused voices to sound in her head.

The voices had not spoken since then, and no one knew why.

Mary wiped an emotional tear from her eye. It felt so good to be useful again. That had been the worst part about the imprisonment. She wanted to work. She wanted to do. Now, she was doing, and she was going to see what her…what her dear Captain Maddox was going up against this time.

***

The shuttle landed, and the surface bay doors closed. The Lord High Admiral’s party walked across a hangar bay and entered a great lift. The lift sped down many kilometers.

The Builder Scanner was one of the greatest pieces of alien technology that Star Watch owned. The lift stopped, and the party passed several checkpoints. Finally, a colonel with dark hair and stooped shoulders led them into a situation room.

The Lord High Admiral sat at a huge table, with screens high in the middle hanging down from the ceiling. Mary sat two chairs down from the admiral in order to give him some elbow room. The security people moved against the walls.

The colonel also sat as he cleared his throat.

A far hatch opened, and a tall woman wearing a Star Watch uniform marched in. She was Commandant Konev, with red hair and a mole on her left cheek. She ran the Builder Scanner and had been the one to warn High Command about the original Swarm Invasion those many years ago.

Konev saluted the Lord High Admiral.

The old man nodded. “I’m glad you could take the time—”

“Sir,” Konev said, interrupting. “It is I who am glad to have you here. We have witnessed some astonishing events the past few days.”

“I received your message,” Cook said. “And I’ve already studied the images. Thrax appears to have gathered more ships than we expected he could have.”

“We have pinpointed his new colony planet,” Konev said. “If you would like a guided tour…?”

O’Hara noted the commandant’s pride of accomplishment.

“By all means,” Cook said. “Show us.”

As she sat at the conference table, Commandant Konev picked up a clicker and aimed at the screens above.

Mary raised her head.

The multi-screens wavered. Then, they saw the Mira Binary System as if from one-quarter light-year away. They spied the huge red giant, the bridge mass from it going 70 AUs to the hot white dwarf. In the distance was the Jupiter-like gas giant with its thirteen large moons.

Konev clicked the device.

The scene jumped so they centered on the gas giant and its thirteen big moons.

Another click, another jump, and they saw the rocky Earth-sized moon with its frozen atmosphere.

“It will become interesting soon,” Konev said in an excited voice.

Mary’s palms felt sweaty. Who knew that the Pluto commandant could be a showman? This was fantastic technology, to be sure. They could witness reality three hundred light-years away. The Builder Scanner could also focus to a very narrow range.

The scene shimmered, and now they saw twelve star cruisers in orbit around the Earth-sized moon. From the moon, from underneath high cloud cover, attack saucers started the journey up to orbital space.

“Notice the numbering,” Konev said.

Mary sat forward as small numbers appeared by each attack saucer.

“One hundred and thirty-five Swarm vessels,” Konev said. “There are others, but the bugs are holding them back, for colony defense presumably.”

“How many more?” asked Cook.

“Fifteen,” Konev said.

“Where are the—?” Cook asked.

“There, sir,” Konev said, in her excitement interrupting the old man.

The scene changed once more. This time, it focused on the gas giant and its methane clouds. Four great spherical vessels rose up from the planetary cloud cover.

“Are those Swarm vessels?” Cook asked.

“Not Swarm design, sir,” Konev said. “Those are Juggernauts.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Cook said. “I knew they looked familiar.”

“Have you spotted any sign of androids?” Mary asked.

“None, Brigadier,” Konev said.

Mary cleared her throat. Cook glanced at her and shook his head. Mary looked down at her hands. She did not wear a uniform, but civilian garb. Konev must remember her from the first Swarm War when Mary had run Intelligence.

“I’ll give you a close-up,” Konev said.

The screens shimmered once more, and they studied the Juggernauts. It was uncanny. How could they be doing this from three hundred light-years away? It made no sense, but it was Builder technology. There was little like it in the universe.

“Laser cannons,” Cook said. “The Juggernauts have heavy laser cannons. That’s Swarm technology.”

“Not necessarily,” Konev said. “Juggernauts, old Rull or android vessels, are known for their heavy lasers. If Thrax’s bugs found these Juggernauts, maybe they upgraded their saucer lasers with the Rull technology.”

Cook studied the commandant. “Have you discovered the whereabouts of the Throne World?”

Konev shook her head. “We’ve tried. Oh, how we’ve tried. I’m beginning to wonder if the Throne World possesses planetary cloaking.”

“Cloaking proof against the Builder Scanner?” asked Cook.

“I know that sounds incredible, but yes, I think so.”

“Methuselah Man Strand,” Mary said. “If the Throne World has such cloaking, it would be because of him.”

The Lord High Admiral nodded.

“Do you want me to speed up?” Konev asked.

“I would very much like that,” Cook said.

“This is from three days ago,” Konev said, as she tapped her clicker several times.

On the screens, one hundred and thirty-five attack saucers in three distinct squadrons headed away from the colony world. Behind them followed twelve star cruisers. Behind the star cruisers followed the four huge Juggernauts.

An attack saucer had a main bulk and a ring of metal around it, giving it the saucer shape. Each attack saucer was the same size, having three-quarters the mass of a star cruiser.

A star cruiser was triangular-shaped and silver colored. Each star cruiser had advanced technology, and if historical precedent held true, was much deadlier than an attack saucer.

A Juggernaut was huge, a giant ball bearing twenty kilometers in diameter, heavily armored and usually possessing a powerful shield. They gave the Swarm vastly more firepower and the ability to come in close and try to slug it out head-to-head with any known warship.

In all, the enemy had one hundred and fifty-one warships, a potent fleet in these times. If Star Watch hadn’t known anything about this, and if the Joint Fleet had struck the Commonwealth out of the dark, the enemy might have been able to hit hard and fast enough that Star Watch would never have been able to face them on equal terms. If the enemy had hit hard and fast enough, they might have been able to take out Star Watch’s warships piecemeal.

That wouldn’t have been likely, of course, but the possibility would have existed. It took time gathering warships from different star systems. A message could only travel as fast as a ship could jump. The long-range Builder comm devices—the few in human hands—allowed Star Watch and the Throne World New Men a fantastic advantage.

As long as the enemy fleet remained together and kept attacking, the enemy didn’t need the long-range communication. For a defense, it was critical.

“What’s going out to face them?” Mary asked.

The Lord High Admiral studied her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s privileged information.”

Mary blushed with embarrassment, but she understood. Cook still didn’t fully trust her. If she knew how many ships were heading into the Beyond, she could calculate how many were remaining behind. If the shadowy power that had rayed her mind on the island captured her, they would learn too much.

Still, the distrust ate at Mary.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Cook said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Mary rose stiffly and headed for the hatch, keeping her shoulders high. She was the old man’s advisor…on certain topics. For now, she would have to be happy with that. Oh, how she wished her mind were completely her own and that she was back in Intelligence.

PART V

BATTLE IN THE BEYOND

-1-

The Lord High Admiral remained at the Pluto Base, deep underground near the Builder Scanner. Commandant Konev’s people kept a strict watch on the enemy’s Joint Fleet. The saucers, star cruisers and Juggernauts stayed together. They used a combination of Laumer Points and star-drive jumps to head inward toward the Commonwealth, the Builder Scanner always picking them up again.

“I’d like to see and hear their council meetings,” Cook told Mary. “I wish I knew if Drakos is leading Thrax or if Thrax has gained the upper hand.”

“Do you think Commander Thrax is there with his attack saucers?” Mary asked.

The Lord High Admiral stared at her, rose and lumbered around the room in a circle. He was shaking his white-haired head. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” Cook said. “Is Thrax there? I had just assumed he was.”

“I wouldn’t get too worked up about it,” Mary said. “From what we know, Thrax is clever. He’ll stay near the bedrock of his power.”

“Meaning?”

“His power lies in the attack saucers. I think we can safely assume that Thrax is too paranoid to be elsewhere. Otherwise, he risks another Swarm creature supplanting him as commander.”

“Do Swarm creatures operate like that?”

“Not the Imperial Swarm,” Mary said. “These are hybrids, though, creations of the Builder at the great Dyson Sphere.”

“I’ve read the reports,” Cook said grumpily, running a hand through his thick white hair.

“Well,” Mary said, “according to you, the Joint Fleet is rushing to the Commonwealth. You asked who was in charge. Their actions indicate it is Drakos’s plan, which means he must be in charge. By the way, when do the Emperor’s ships join our fleet?”

Cook had stopped pacing. He studied the former Brigadier. “Let me ask you a question first. Have you heard any voices in your head lately?”

Mary shook her head.

“Would you tell me if you had?”

“Immediately,” she said. “You must know that.”

Cook sighed, cracked his knuckles and sat down. “Believe you me, I want to tell you exactly what’s happening. But I must refrain. I owe it to the people of Star Watch to take some basic precautions with you.”

“I agree,” Mary said, hating this feeling. “In fact, I’m a security risk. You should send me back to Earth.”

“Oh no,” Cook said. “You’re staying put. Pluto’s security is just as good as that of Earth, maybe better. Besides, I may have to ask for advice later. I don’t want to speak to you via comm with a huge time lag.”

Mary nodded, and that ended the latest meeting between them.

While this was taking place, Commandant Konev and her people searched for the Emperor’s flotilla. The Emperor had sent word that Golden Ural would command the star cruisers.

Star Watch’s battle fleet headed for “C” Quadrant. Admiral Vincent Byron III from a former Windsor League planet led the formation. Since Byron was a Star Watch officer, he did not use his Windsor League rank. He was a Viscount of Flanders, an agricultural world known for its abundance of crops.

In the old days, the battle command would have gone to Admiral Fletcher, retired now. Fletcher had grown ill since retiring, often drinking too much, some said to drown his sorrows from losing so many ships in the attack on the Forbidden Planet. That had been a rough one, and Fletcher had aged terribly since then.

Vincent Byron III was a tall, aristocratic man in his early fifties. He wore a scarlet uniform in keeping with his Windsor League heritage. He looked every inch an ancient English sea lord, especially with his wavy blond hair, but he had a sharp mind and a keen tactical sense. Cook liked and admired Byron. The Lord High Admiral had been to Flanders before and admired the people, industrious and quiet, but with elegant lords and ladies.

Byron had spoken to Cook before leaving on the assignment. They had met in the Sigma Draconis System aboard the Sargon. That had been a week and a half ago already.

They had met in the Lord High Admiral’s wardroom, the two sipping brandies as they sat on ornate chairs.

“This one is up to you, Admiral,” Cook said. “We can call your formation the Grand Fleet, but you won’t even have one hundred ships. Almost one hundred, but not quite.”

Byron had sat upright in his chair, a brandy snifter in his right hand. “No thanks,” he said in his elegant voice. He had a long face and seldom smiled, although there was something that sparkled now and again in his eyes. The Psych file said it was quiet humor.

“From what we know so far, your ships should be better technologically than the enemy’s vessels,” Cook said. “I’m not giving you any of the Conqueror-class battleships. But I am giving you fifteen Bismarck-class battleships, including my old flagship, the Kaiser Wilhelm.”

Byron swirled his brandy thoughtfully.

“Those fifteen are the only ships with the new upgrades from the Heavy Metals Planet,” Cook said.

“My hard core of the best ships, eh?” asked Byron.

“I won’t tell you how to use them. That’s your task. I’m trusting you, the Commonwealth is trusting you, to use your fleet to its best advantage.”

“Don’t fail, eh?”

“Exactly,” Cook said. “Do you think you can do the job?”

“I wouldn’t have accepted the command, sir, if I didn’t.”

Cook nodded as he tried to assess the admiral. That’s why he’d rushed out in the Sargon, to study the admiral in person one last time. Choosing the right commander for a mission like this was essential. Byron had been a commodore during the First Swarm War. He had been with Fletcher at the Forbidden Planet and had fought brilliantly against the androids recently. Every time, Byron had fought with courage and distinction. If he failed now, though, it would all be for naught. But Star Watch had to give new people independent command sometime. Was Byron another Fletcher? Cook prayed to God that the Flanders aristocrat had what it took to give Star Watch another naval victory.

“Fifteen battleships,” Cook said, “plus ten older-model monitors already in position, sixteen heavy cruisers, thirteen attack cruisers and four carriers. That’s the heart of your fleet and all the capital ships Star Watch can spare. You’ll have twelve destroyers and eighteen escort ships whose crews are Patrol-trained for duty in the Beyond. You’ll also have eight heavy supply vessels of the Herford-class. Ninety-six ships to destroy a Joint Fleet of attack saucers, star cruisers and four Juggernauts. Any questions so far?” asked Cook.

Byron swirled the brandy one more time before setting the snifter on a side table. He adjusted his scarlet uniform and stared the Lord High Admiral in the eyes.

“I have two, sir,” Byron said. “How do I treat the Emperor’s New Men, and how much do you expect me to listen to Captain Maddox?”

“Let’s take the harder one first,” Cook said. “The New Men are your allies. Treat them with respect. They will not respond well otherwise. However, you cannot give them slavish praise or act meekly in their presence. It’s a tightrope, Admiral. Frankly, one of the reasons I chose you for this mission is that I think you’ll know how to deal with the New Men.”

“Thank you for the trust, sir.”

Cook nodded. “It’s a tightrope. New Men are fickle and intensely arrogant. I hope you don’t anger them. But I also hope you show them that we’re as good as they are.”

“But without saying that with words, eh?” asked Byron.

“I hope so.”

Byron frowned, but he smoothed it away. “Captain Maddox?”

Cook took a deep breath. “Maddox is used to having line officers hating him. That would be a bad idea on your part, Admiral.”

“I see,” Byron said.

“You’re in charge,” Cook said. “You have the authority. Captain Maddox is an unorthodox commander. He has a fantastic record of success, though. In your place, I would consider him a tremendous resource. He may give you the key to victory in fact. I hope you’re man enough to take it if offered.”

“That could almost be construed as an insult, sir.”

“It could,” Cook admitted. “Do you see it as such?”

“That would depend.”

“Don’t let your aristocratic outlook blind you to Maddox’s utility. He’s saved my life more than once.”

“Why not put him in charge of the fleet then?” Byron asked.

“I thought about it,” Cook admitted. “I don’t think that’s the best use of the captain’s talents, though. He works best when a strong authority figure is there to balance him.”

Admiral Byron said nothing.

“Do you dislike the man?” Cook asked. “If so, I want to know now.”

“No, sir,” Byron said slowly. “I admire quick thinking. I admire winning, which the captain often does. He is unorthodox as you say.” The admiral shrugged. “I hope he knows how to follow orders.”

“If they suit his taste and if they’re wise. If not, he will do as he pleases and probably succeed at whatever he does.”

“That sounds mystical and disorderly.”

“I suppose,” Cook said, having misgivings now about letting Vincent Byron III command the battle fleet. Was it too late to change commanders? Likely so. Byron had rushed back in a speedster for this meeting and would have to rush back. This gesture would help the fleet officers and personnel trust the commander. If Cook used it to disrupt the command structure…no, it was too late.

“Use your judgment, Admiral. Cherish Maddox, but make sure in the end that you run the fleet. It has been given into your care and is therefore your responsibility.”

“And Maddox’s starship? Is he under my command?”

Cook eyed the aristocrat. “Technically, I suppose he is. But I suggest you treat Victory as Maddox’s private preserve.” The old man shifted in his chair, scowling and finally leaning forward. He lowered his voice. “Admiral, I’m going to tell you a secret. At all costs, win. Whatever else you do, win. In the end, nothing else matters.”

“Nothing, eh?”

“Nothing,” Cook said, ending the briefing.

-2-

Lord Drakos curled in his private gym aboard the Agamemnon, doing heavy sets as he pumped his biceps. He had already squatted, and his thighs were engorged with blood.

The private room was small and completely walled with mirrors. The superior was quite naked and glistening with sweat as he admired himself from many angles. Drakos believed that his physique was perfect. A taller superior would have leaner muscles, far too lean if still steely strong. A shorter superior would have bulkier muscles that would get in the way. Too much bulk stole speed.

Drakos racked the curl bar and stood before a mirror, raising both arms and making his biceps pop up.

That was beautiful. His arms were beautiful. He was beautiful the way a male lion in all his pride and glory was majestic. He was majestic—Drakos was thinking about himself now—because he was dangerous. There was no more dangerous individual in Human Space and probably in the wild Beyond as well.

I am going to show the Throne World how it is done. I am going to teach the submen that I am the true superior in every way. For too long, I have been nipping at the heels of the Commonwealth. I have done so in order to weaken them for this moment.

Drakos lowered his arms as he panted. He had worked out hard, training even as he flew to his battle against destiny. He had sought Thrax, and he had found him. Now, one hundred and thirty-five attack saucers maneuvered to his design, his great plan and ultimate victory. The four Juggernauts had been a fantastic extra prize, making all of this much more doable.

“Ah!” Drakos said, striking a dramatic pose as he viewed himself for the tiniest flaws. There were none. He was more than a superior. He was an ultimate.

“I am the ultimate,” Drakos told himself.

He lowered his arms a second time as he relaxed. That was enough body worship. He needed to refine his plans.

He walked through a hatch and picked up a towel, heading to the showers. He blasted himself with freezing water. It almost made him shiver. He would not allow himself that luxury, however. He would endure as he continued to hone himself into an even deadlier beast of prey.

Finally, he switched to hot water, gasping, letting the spray relax his muscles.

Finished, he toweled off and walked into his game room. This had a holographic board with many star systems. By voice command, he moved the symbols for his Joint Fleet.

Drakos stood there, thinking, pondering, wondering if he had thought of everything. Naturally, he knew about the Builder Scanner. It was a great technological marvel. The Far-Scanner was important, but that Builder Scanner…

Drakos exhaled. It wasn’t possible that Star Watch had failed to spot the Joint Fleet. Once the darter had found the Swarm colony world and they had failed to capture it, it would only have been a matter of time. Thus, Star Watch knew the location of the colony world.

Whatever else happened, Thrax’s colony would face antimatter missiles and possibly asteroid bombardment. The bug lord should have taken all his attack saucers with them.

Oh, Drakos could have told Thrax the reality, but the bug lord might have made a different decision then. No. Thrax’s colony world was finished. That was as good as fact. Thus, Drakos didn’t have to worry about letting the Swarm loose here in Human Space. Thrax and his attack saucers would not survive the coming cauldron of battles. But, then again, he had never intended that Thrax and the attack saucers would survive. They were merely a means to an end. So, in a way, Drakos was really aiding humanity in its long war against every other intelligent form of life in the galaxy.

The attack saucers had to survive long enough for Drakos to move onto his next stage. That stage was becoming Emperor of the Throne World. It was obvious, should have been obvious to any competent strategist. The attack saucers were doomed; thus, he needed more ships, another source. The most likely source was the war-hardy race of superiors.

Thrax had suggested they try a sneak attack against the Throne World. That wouldn’t have been a bad idea…if no Builder Scanner existed. Plus, Drakos needed the Throne World intact. All his talk about destroying it was just that, talk, expelled air making noise.

With a grunt, Drakos sat down at the holographic table and tried a new variation of space attack. He was trying to prepare for any and every contingency. A superior could act in the moment, and that was one of their greater powers. But a supreme strategist also attempted to think through all the possibilities in order to prepare.

Drakos now spent seven hours running through the new idea and twelve variations of it.

He sat back afterward, staring up at the ceiling. How many capital ships would Star Watch send? How many would the Emperor sent to help the submen? Where would the Allied Host face him? Certainly, they were going to try to ambush his force. Star Watch had the Builder Scanner. They would attempt to use that to full advantage.

Drakos did not make the classic mistake of thinking what he would do in their place. He was the master strategist. He would win gloriously if he were in their place. They were going to lose. Thus, they would do something other than he would do. In the first place, he understood the Lord High Admiral. The man thought of little else than protecting the Commonwealth. That was both his strength and weakness. Cook would send too few warships, believing that Captain Maddox could help the Allied Host perform a miracle.

There were not going to be any miracles for Star Watch or Victory this time.

“The only miracles are going to be the ones I make,” Drakos said.

He also was not going to make a second classic mistake, and that was to overestimate his great abilities. Sometimes, great captains began to think too highly about themselves. He would never do that. He would think about himself exactly as he was: the best strategist in the game.

Drakos had proven that to himself many times. His plan had taken into account the enemy’s Builder Scanner and long-range Builder comm devices. He was drawing them to him. They would believe him unready.

Drakos stood abruptly so the chair flew backward. It was time to pre-calibrate the first of his two secret weapons. He could only use this weapon once, so he had to make it count. Maybe that was why he felt nervous. If he misused it…

“No,” Drakos said, shaking his head. He was certain that the implementation of the first secret weapon should occur—Drakos closed his eyes, making the final calculations regarding its use. His eyes flew open. He would use the weapon in a little more than a week but not more than two weeks from now.

-3-

Maddox sat on a mat, breathing deeply as he practiced the Way of the Pilgrim. There was nothing in this room but the white bulkheads. Before entering the chamber, he had been speaking over the long-range Builder comm device. What the Lord High Admiral had told him was upsetting.

The Patrol Fleet—in lieu of any better term—was almost through “C” Quadrant. It was racing now for the border into the Beyond. Maddox had crossed the border so often that he’d forgotten how regular Star Watch officers and personnel viewed it. To them, crossing the border meant heading into the great unknown. The Beyond frightened them. Given that truth, Maddox had been arguing with Admiral Cook. Maybe the Patrol Fleet should hit the Joint Fleet inside the border rather than outside.

“On no account,” Cook had told him.

The Throne World flotilla was on its way. The two forces would rendezvous in the Meden System, a place practically devoid of dust and debris, with two supergiant Jupiter planets. The huge gas giants had acted like vacuum cleaners for a long time, drawing all the excess comets, gases and particles from the system. Admiral Cook did not expect the battle to take place there, but deeper in the Beyond. Cook already had one system in mind, one with great quantities of dust and debris. After questioning Cook just a little, Maddox realized the old man hoped to use the Tau Ceti Plan all over again. He hoped to use hosts of missiles to soften up the enemy before withdrawing and sucking them into a trap.

Maddox knew Drakos would not fall for that, but after a few quiet words, he realized the Lord High Admiral didn’t want to hear it. Cook had his plan, and by it, Maddox understood a truth.

The captain sat on the mat and practiced the Way of the Pilgrim. It calmed his mind and allowed him to live with this excess energy. This new method did something else, as well. It gave him a serenity that he had never known before. How could that be? He seethed with life, but he knew greater peace because of the calming of his thoughts.

Drakos was cunning. Thrax had avoided the fate of the other Swarm creatures. Neither of those two worthies was going to surge through a missile belt into order to hit waiting starships. That the Lord High Admiral could not see this, told Maddox a truth.

Cook mistrusted Admiral Byron. Cook did not necessarily think Byron was a poor officer, but the consequence of the coming battle was too big to leave to chance. Thus, Cook was making a classic mistake. He was trying to micromanage the campaign and possibly the battle itself, and all from Pluto. Cook had the Builder Scanner. He had several sets of long-range Builder comm devices scattered in strategic locations, and he now thought he could manage the campaign from far back on Pluto.

Maddox shook his head. That was a mistake born of vanity. He couldn’t allow it, but he wouldn’t stop it his usual direct way. Yes, he was a man of action. That was what others expected from him. Well, though he was still a man of action, now he was going to do some deep and careful thinking as well.

As Maddox sat on his mat, calming his mind, he fanned the major personalities in his mind in the coming conflict: Cook, Byron, Ural, he believed, Drakos and Thrax. That was an interesting group. They were powerful men, and one bug, who seldom let others push them around.

Byron was an unknown.

“Sir,” Galyan whispered.

Despite his calm, Maddox started, jumping up and taking a combat stance.

“I am sorry for disturbing you, Captain,” Galyan said in a soft voice. “But Professor Ludendorff has begun screaming. He wishes to talk to you.”

Maddox stared at Galyan, and a stinging retort came to his lips. He suppressed the response, continuing to stare.

“I know, I know,” Galyan said. “I feel awful. This is worse than a verbal tongue-lashing. I should have sent Riker. He would have knocked on the hatch and preserved your privacy.”

“Come with me,” Maddox said softly.

“Sir?”

“We’re going to see Ludendorff.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“I do.”

“May I ask why, sir?”

“Yes.”

Galyan waited until, finally, he asked, “Why are you taking me?”

Maddox did not answer but hurried from the room. Galyan caught up with him in the corridor, popping into existence and floating beside the captain.

“You gave me permission to ask,” Galyan said.

“I did, but I didn’t say I would answer.”

“Then, why let me ask?”

Maddox shrugged. He didn’t know why. Maybe there was a perverse sense of humor locked in him. It was difficult to let it out while he maintained the Way of the Pilgrim. This was a calmer, if meaner method of playing a prank of letting his perverse sense of humor out.

Maddox cocked his head. Would it be mentally harmful to him to try to restrain his dark humor? Maybe the humor was a release valve in him.

“You are quieter than you used to be, sir.”

Maddox nodded, accepting that as a truth.

“Is this going to be your new personality?”

Maddox smiled. “I have no idea, Galyan. Only time will give us the answer.”

Galyan sighed wistfully.

“Are you pondering about time?” the captain asked.

“Why, yes, I have been. How could you tell?”

“I notice more while I’m calm.”

“That is interesting.”

“What was Ludendorff screaming about?” Maddox asked.

“No words. Just raving and shaking his fists. Oh, wait: I do recall him shouting profanities at Doctor Dana Rich.”

“Is he hallucinating about her?”

“I doubt that, sir,” Galyan said. “I believe he is blaming his present problems on her. He is shouting that if she had not left him, he would not have to be resorting to his new tactics.”

“So, he is speaking coherent words.”

“Oh. Yes. I stand corrected, sir.”

Maddox nodded, and he began to jog. Then, he broke into a sprint. When the captain ran like this, only a New Man or Galyan could keep up.

-4-

Maddox stepped through the opened hatch into Ludendorff’s solitary cell. Galyan floated through as well, dodging the captain as Maddox closed the hatch with a click.

Ludendorff sat on the middle of his cot with his face in his hands and his feet on the floor. He did not look up, although he flinched upon the closing sound.

It was a midsized room, and it smelled better than it had a right to. For a shouting, possibly crazy man, it was quite tidy in here. There was no mess in the side sink. The restroom door was open, and there were no unpleasant odors emanating from there.

“What do you want, my boy?” the professor asked, with his face still pressed against his hands. “Have you come to gloat?”

“Hardly,” Maddox said. “Galyan told me you were shouting.”

Ludendorff looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed and his face was flushed. He did not seem his confident self. Had solitary confinement broken his normal self-esteem?

“You’ve done the worst thing possible, I’m afraid,” Ludendorff said. “I’ve had far too much time to think. I’ve begun to put various factors together, making connections. I’ve also seen errors, my own, this time. That is a rare occurrence for me. I have come to know…regret is likely the correct word. Yes. I have regret and do not like it.”

“Galyan said you shouted accusations against Dana.”

Ludendorff eyed the little holoimage. “You’re the Adok tattletale, are you?”

“I am performing my task,” Galyan said.

“Is that your excuse?” asked Ludendorff. “I was merely following orders?”

“I have said it was my task,” Galyan replied. “That of course means I was given orders. Why do you use your tone on me as if I have done something wrong?”

Ludendorff took a deep breath and let it out. “That isn’t our excuse, is it, Captain? You and I make our own errors. We cannot pass the blame, because we seldom follow orders we don’t like. I have yet to discover this new source of zeal in you. It is quite remarkable.”

“Have you ever heard of Erills?” asked Maddox.

Ludendorff cocked his head. “There is a legend, yes. It is quite old, though. The Builders had to repair the damage the stupidity of the Havens had brought about. The Havens were an ancient race that died out… Wait a minute, old boy. You’re not suggesting you actually found the city of pyramids. That the city is real.”

“All too real,” Maddox said. “I faced and slew an Erill on the extinct planet of the Havens. We’ve been calling it the Haunted Planet. I should rephrase one thing. I killed the Erill while aboard the Reynard and while we were in the upper atmosphere.”

“Impossible.”

“Not so,” Maddox said. He explained about the Builder glyph that had drifted to him in the strange realm where he faced an alien creature.

“So the Builders infected you, too, eh? I should have known. The Builders were great busybodies.” Ludendorff shook his head. “Galyan, you could have ruined everything by your hasty stupidity. If I’d been awake, Captain, I could have stopped you from almost releasing a great terror upon humanity.”

“If…” Maddox said.

“I know,” Ludendorff said. “I realize I made a mistake aboard the Reynard. I cost myself the hard-won trust of the crew. Before that, I drove Dana from me. What a costly error that has proven to be.”

“You could go get her,” Galyan said.

“It’s too late for that,” Ludendorff said.

“You are a fool, Professor,” Galyan said with heat.

Both Maddox and Ludendorff stared at the holoimage in surprise.

“What did you say to me?” asked Ludendorff.

“I will tell what is too late,” Galyan said. “I cannot talk to my wife again, because she died over six thousand years ago. That is too late. I cannot feel like I did when I was a flesh and blood Adok. That is far, far too late. Someday, Captain Maddox and the others will be dead. Then, it will be too late to tell and show them how I feel about them. But Doctor Dana Rich—it is not too late for you, Professor Ludendorff. If you really think so, then you are a great fool.”

“No more of your moralizing and emotionalism, you pile of circuitry. I will not—”

“Professor,” Maddox said in a commanding voice.

Ludendorff stopped short, looking at the captain.

“Take heed, sir,” the captain said. “Driving Force Galyan has given you excellent advice. Here’s more from me. Do not insult Galyan in a manner meant to hurt him.”

“Are you serious, my boy?” asked Ludendorff. “He’s only a—”

Maddox took two steps closer to Ludendorff.

The Methuselah Man stopped talking. Did he sense the seriousness in Maddox’s poise?

“You truly care what Galyan thinks?” Ludendorff asked in surprise.

“He’s my friend,” Maddox said.

“Thank you, Captain,” Galyan said.

“No, Galyan. Thank you. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

“That makes sense,” Ludendorff muttered.

“That is high praise indeed, sir,” Galyan told Maddox.

“I’m going to talk to Ludendorff alone for now, though,” Maddox said. “He’s in a bitter mood. If he wants to insult me, fine. But I don’t want to strike him for insulting you in your presence.”

“I will leave at once, Captain,” Galyan said, disappearing.

Ludendorff peered at Maddox, with the wheels obviously turning in the Methuselah Man’s mind. “An emotional little AI, isn’t he? Who would have believed it?”

“The Builders were exceptional technicians,” Maddox said. “Everything they touched was superlative. That would include a deified Adok AI.”

“And Methuselah Men, my boy?” asked Ludendorff.

“There are no more dangerous troublemakers than Ludendorff and Strand, and no specialists that have helped elevate humanity to its present technological status than you two.”

Ludendorff rubbed his chin. “Are you still going to keep me in here?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Ludendorff turned away, soon muttering to himself. He grunted as he pushed up to his feet. “Maybe Galyan’s right, I should go to Dana. I don’t know how I can while locked up in here, though. First, I must clear myself with you, I suppose.”

Maddox waited.

“I did what I did with Valerie and Keith. I’m not going to apologize about it, as I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. I’m also not going to divulge secrets that are none of anyone’s business. If you keep me caged like an animal, I will escape in time. You might not like the manner in which I do it, either. If you let me go now, I’ll remember you fondly, and maybe our paths will cross again someday. If you let me go now, I will consider aiding Star Watch again, but not if I have to escape from confinement.”

“Nice speech,” Maddox said. “But I’m not going to—”

“Hold it right there, my boy,” Ludendorff said as he whirled around, interrupting. “Don’t say something you might regret later. I’m going to tell you something now that might change your mind about me.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve thought about many things while confined. One thing keeps drawing my thoughts, and that is Lord Drakos. He abandoned the underground organization he’d set up in the Commonwealth. It was a strong organization that was achieving its goals. By leaving for the Beyond, by taking his star cruisers, he allowed Star Watch to begin successful actions against the underground. Drakos is no one’s fool. He is a cunning New Man with long-range plans. Yet, as I think about his strategy, I cannot understand how he hopes to accomplish his goals?”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I can and will,” Ludendorff said. “At best, Thrax will have one hundred and sixty-five attack saucers. Clearly, and for a variety of reasons, he will have less. Now, I do admit that Drakos can do plenty of damage with his Joint Fleet. I assume it’s heading toward the Commonwealth.”

Maddox nodded.

“Drakos is clever, as I’ve said. He must know that if he defeats our fleet, that Star Watch will gather every vessel left and hit him with an even bigger fleet inside the Commonwealth. That means, in the end, no matter what he does, Drakos must lose. While losing, he can still do Star Watch and the Commonwealth dreadful harm, but why is he doing this if he can’t win?”

“There’s something else to his strategy that we haven’t seen yet,” Maddox suggested.

“Ah, my boy, that’s good, very good. Clearly, there must be another player we do not yet perceive, one who is helping or will help Drakos soon. As I’ve sat here, brooding, I have perceived who the player must be.”

“Lisa Meyers,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff frowned, although he nodded a second later. “That is my own conclusion. I submit that Drakos has had interaction with Meyers or one of her confederates keeping watch on the Commonwealth for her.”

“And?”

“And I wonder and even expect Meyers to strike the Commonwealth with the second force that has to exist for Drakos’s actions to make sense.”

Maddox squinted thoughtfully, finally nodding. “I’ll pass that along to the Lord High Admiral.”

“Please do,” Ludendorff said. “And while you’re at it, perhaps tell the admiral that you should release me for giving Star Watch such a wonderful strategic insight.”

Maddox took his time. “I will,” he said.

Ludendorff expelled pent up air. “With that, I shall take a nap. Please tell me once you’ve heard from Cook.”

Ludendorff sat on his cot, kicked off his slippers and lay back on the mattress.

Maddox turned for the hatch. Thus, he missed the professor staring at him with intensity and curiosity. Wheels were turning in the professor’s brain.

Maddox exited the chamber, closing and locking the hatch behind him.

-5-

Five days later, the Patrol Fleet under Admiral Byron passed the border into the Beyond. Now, using a Laumer Point, as not all the ships had a star-drive jump, the fleet began appearing in the Meden System.

The process took time, too much time in Golden Ural’s opinion. The Throne World flotilla had arrived two days ago, using stealth equipment to remain hidden in orbit around the nearer of the supergiant Jupiter planets.

The system had a G-class star, 0.932 percent of the mass of Sol.

Ural waited until the entire battle fleet had entered the star system before sending a message to the flagship, Bismarck-class Battleship Kaiser Wilhelm.

Too long of a time later, Admiral Byron appeared on Ural’s main screen aboard his Star Cruiser Boreas. They exchanged pleasantries as the two attempted to take the gauge of the other. Soon, each believing himself extremely polite, and each believing the other rather rude and almost insulting, they agreed to hold an operational session aboard Starship Victory.

The next day, Victory arrived. Maddox had already learned about the planned operational meeting through Admiral Cook. On the captain’s suggestion, Cook agreed to keep the meeting numbers small. The Lord High Admiral also agreed that he would relay to the other two the new conditions.

It was odd, having the Lord High Admiral handle communications back on Pluto through the long-range Builder comm devices and also giving everyone continuing updates on the enemy fleet’s progress. The Joint Fleet was fast approaching, using a route familiar to Golden Ural.

Lieutenant Noonan kept everyone busy aboard Victory while preparing for the coming meeting. That left Maddox time to think and mentally get set.

Ural’s star cruiser maneuvered alone from the first oversized gas giant, heading for the ancient Adok starship while the Patrol Fleet’s flagship did likewise from the mass of vessels between the two super-Jupiters.

Maddox had placed Victory strategically between the two allied formations. “I hope we get through this phase without an incident,” Maddox told Galyan from his command chair. “Our combined fleet needs to maneuver in a supple fashion, not having to worry about stepping on each other’s toes.”

“Allied fleets working together almost always mean greater tension,” Galyan said. “It is the nature of the beast.”

The Boreas and the Kaiser Wilhelm parked two thousand kilometers from Victory, one on each side. The ancient Adok starship was bigger than either vessel. The Star Watch battleship was almost twice the size of the star cruiser.

At the same time, a shuttle from each flagship headed for the starship. Each shuttle landed in a different hangar bay. Soon, Ural and his aide marched through Victory’s corridors. They were tall New Men with gleaming silver uniforms and seethed with vitality like tigers.

Maddox met them in the conference chamber, having flipped a coin as to who would enter first. He rose from his seat as the aide entered and held out his hand. The astonishing thing was that Maddox had the same coiled energy as the two New Men.

Ural must have noticed, for the tallest of New Men stopped in shock upon sight of Maddox. He tested the captain’s grip and nodded.

“You’re different, Captain,” Ural said. “It’s quite noticeable.”

“Better, I hope,” Maddox said.

Ural searched the captain’s face. “More like your—” The New Man abruptly stopped speaking.

“Yes?” asked Maddox tensely.

“More like a New Man, as you are wont to call us,” Ural said.

“You were going to say something else.”

“Was I? How interesting you think so.” Ural looked around. “Is this Admiral Byron ready to enter?”

Maddox cleared his throat. “I learned just seconds before your aide entered the room. Otherwise, I would have notified you. Admiral Byron hit a snag. He will be delayed.”

Ural’s features did not change, but there was a tightening to him, and he seemed more dangerous, more tense.

“I realize the admiral is breaking the agreed-upon protocol, and for this I ask your patience,” Maddox said.

“For the honor of the Emperor, an apology is in order,” Ural said.

“Agreed,” Maddox said. “Perhaps the admiral will give one.”

“You could apologize in his stead,” Ural said. “I would accept that.”

For a moment, Maddox lost his Pilgrim Calm. He breathed deeply, focusing on meditating, on returning to a more serene state. “I regret that is not possible,” the captain said. “I am, in a real sense, attempting to maintain neutrality between you two.”

“It is a fiction.”

“But a necessary one,” the captain said. “I am not inclined to destroy the diplomatic fiction due to Byron’s…”

“Yes?”

Galyan appeared in the chamber.

Ural’s aide dropped his gun hand to a weapon on his hip.

“Cease,” Ural whispered. “It is the holoimage.”

The aide nodded, letting his gun hand move away from the weapon.

“Admiral Byron is almost here,” Maddox said. “Perhaps he ran in order to arrive as soon as he could.”

“Did he run?” asked Ural. “That would be…interesting to know.”

“I said ‘perhaps.’”

“Ah,” Ural said. “I understand. You are being as gracious as your hatred of us can allow. In the interest of unity, I will stay a few seconds longer—”

A hatch opened on the other side of the chamber. Three aides marched through. Each of them wore a heavy blaster on his hip. They were obviously Space Marines dressed in staff officer uniforms. Lastly, Admiral Byron entered. He was tall for a human, but not as tall as Maddox and certainly not as tall as Golden Ural and his New Man aide.

Maddox made the introductions, dumbfounded that Byron had pulled a stunt like this, and then brought bodyguards as if he distrusted Ural. Was that a deliberate insult, or did Byron truly fear the New Men? Cook must have given the admiral instructions about this, instructions Byron had ignored.

Had Byron lost family to the New Men during the initial invasion? Did anyone know? He would have to ask the Lord High Admiral later.

“Gentlemen,” Maddox said. “I am going to change protocol.” He pointed at the Space Marines. “You three men will have to wait outside. Sir,” he said, facing Ural’s aide. “I will ask you to wait with the admiral’s men in a room Galyan will show you.”

Admiral Byron scowled. “I’m afraid, Captain—”

“That that is an excellent idea,” Ural said, interrupting. “I quite agree.” He motioned to his aide.

The New Man rose.

Byron scowled at Maddox, and he hunched his shoulders, looking as if he was going to disagree. “Very well,” Byron said. “If you insist, Captain…”

“I do,” Maddox said.

The three Space Marines stood. Both groups followed Galyan, who led them out of the conference chamber.

Byron glared at Maddox. Ural waited patiently.

“Good,” Maddox said. “I didn’t want them to hear this because I doubt any of us are going to repeat these words.”

-6-

“Golden Ural,” Maddox said, facing the Emperor’s representative. “I appreciate having you here. I remember when you stopped me from capturing Lord Drakos. I always thought that was a mistake and rather underhanded on your part.”

“Ah,” Ural said. “If you care to duel then and gain satisfaction, this would be the time to declare your intent.”

“No duel,” Maddox said.

“Do you call me underhanded and then refuse to challenge me? That would be a mark of cowardice on your part.”

Maddox’s eyes seemed to glitter. “I am attempting to be as diplomatic as possible. This is an important alliance. If I have spoken rudely to you, there is a reason for it.”

“My patience is not unlimited,” Ural said.

Maddox dipped his head, turning to Admiral Byron. “I must say, sir, you are acting the part of an ass. Is there a reason for that, or do you wish to sabotage our allied effort?”

Byron stiffened before leaning toward Maddox. “I am your superior officer, Captain. I am the leading commander of the United Fleet.”

“Oh?” Ural said. “I’m going to interrupt you. You have more warships. There is no denying that. The leading commander? Hardly. I am Golden Ural. I am three times stronger and have a vastly superior intellect compared to you. There is nothing leading about you, Admiral.”

Admiral Byron’s nostrils flared. “Well, I had expected this. I realize—”

“Gentlemen!” Maddox said in a loud voice. “This is why I asked your aides to depart. This is excellent.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Byron.

“The pretenses are dropping,” Maddox said. “You hate the New Men. I don’t know why. I have begun to suspect that your actions are a deliberate attempt to provoke them. If it is not deliberate, I am going to have to ask you to stop acting like an ass.”

Byron’s features burned red as he blushed deeply.

Maddox faced Ural. “New Men are inherently arrogant. Nothing has changed there. As an attempted neutral for this critical meeting, I am trying to give offense for offense lest I seem to be taking sides.”

Ural studied the captain. If it was possible, there was the tiniest upturning at the corners of his mouth, a half-hidden smile.

Maddox did not understand the reason for the New Man’s satisfaction. He sat back in his chair, watching both men at once.

Admiral Byron no longer blushed. He was looking away and stroking his chin. He appeared to be thinking, a good sign. He faced Ural abruptly.

“I apologize for being late,” Byron said in an ironic tone. “It shan’t happen again. Yes, Captain. Asking the aides to leave was clever. Golden Ural, I have the greater force. Whether I am the greater man—I do not make such a claim at this time. I will let events proclaim my greatness or the lack thereof.”

“That is acceptable,” Ural said, who sat ramrod stiff the entire time. “Captain, do you have further surprises for us?”

“None,” Maddox said, still wondering why Ural had smiled. “Instead, I have the latest Intelligence reports as relayed to me by the Lord High Admiral.”

The captain used holographic imaging to show the two commanders the approaching Joint Fleet. The enemy was coming on fast, having accelerated his pace.

“This is unlike Lord Drakos,” Ural said after the presentation.

“Can you be more specific?” Byron asked.

“He appears to be heading for slaughter,” Ural said. “Yet, he knows about the Builder Scanner. He understands about long-range Builder comm devices. It is almost as if he’s daring us to attack…there.”

Ural tapped the Gomez System. It was a dusty, particle-rich star system with several Laumer Points.

“That’s the very spot the Lord High Admiral hopes we do battle,” Maddox said quietly.

“Lord Drakos is arrogant,” Byron suggested. “There’s your answer, the reason for his brash action.”

“Lord Drakos is proud and perhaps rash at times,” Ural said. “He is also cunning, with a noted skill at recognizing his enemy’s strengths and using them against him.”

Byron studied the holographic presentation of the Gomez System and then eyed Ural. “One of our key advantages is the Builder Scanner.”

“Yes,” Ural agreed.

“Could Drakos reasonably know we’re united against him?” Byron asked.

“It does seem strange that he would know without a doubt,” Ural said. “Could he have spies on Pluto?” he asked Maddox.

“That’s always a possibility,” Maddox said. “I don’t deem it probable, though.”

“Neither do I,” Byron said.

“Maybe Lord Drakos has gained intelligence or more internal energy like you, Captain,” Ural said. “Maybe he has become more dangerous in ways we do not yet perceive.”

Byron cleared his throat. “Could you be more specific?”

“Here,” Ural said, tapping the holomap of the Gomez System. “We must beware of Drakos here. I think he is more dangerous than we originally realized.”

“And yet here,” Byron said, meaning the Gomez System, “is a perfect location to implement the Lord High Admiral’s plan. I doubt there is a better star system for it.”

“Exactly,” Ural said. “That Drakos rushes to the Gomez System as this time indicates greater intelligence on his part than he should possess about us. Or perhaps it shows greater reasoning abilities on his part than he has shown in the past.”

Maddox rubbed his jaw. Like Byron said, the Gomez System did seem like a good place to ambush the enemy fleet.

“Golden Ural,” Byron said. “We should continue to the Gomez System. It’s perfect for us. However, I certainly think we should implement safeguards.”

“Such as?” asked Ural.

Admiral Byron began to show them as he manipulated the holomap. And for the first time, Maddox began feeling something different toward the former Windsor League officer. He began to respect the admiral’s tactical sense. Maybe the Lord High Admiral had known something about Byron the rest of them hadn’t.

Ural must have felt likewise, for he only added two refinements to the plan.

“I like it,” Ural said later. “It is a good plan. Now, let us see if we can do as good a job implementing it.”

On that, Maddox couldn’t agree more.

-7-

Less than thirty light-years away on the Agamemnon, Lord Drakos strode down a corridor with his hands clasped behind his back. His gut churned with anticipation together with an emotion that might have resembled fear. He was approaching his hour of destiny. The first battle would be the great test. Everything could die in the Gomez System, or the beginning of his real greatness could be born in the cauldron of battle.

Would his plan of deception work? Would Star Watch and whatever Throne World traitors aided the submen take the bait? All the signs pointed in the right direction.

Drakos found that his mouth was dry. He knew why. He had to take another huge chance. That presumptuous star conqueror Supremacy Thrax wished to speak with him in person. Thrax had demanded he come aboard the attack saucer flagship. Drakos reviewed those among his crew that knew about the real plan. Could one of them have sold him out to Thrax?

He didn’t see how.

Could Thrax have learned about his secret agent planted on Pluto, in the heart of his enemy’s battle net? Oh, he had paid dearly to gain the agent. He had sold a thing that had taken him great effort to acquire. He did not, frankly, totally trust the agent to tell the truth all the time. He did believe the agent told the truth about the enemy fleet, the Allied Host.

The agent had finally sent him data a day ago, sent through a long-range Builder comm device. It had been a one-time occurrence, a special procedure in binary code that his device had barely picked up. It had been enough, though. The data had proven many of his assumptions correct. He had known himself as a great strategist. This data had been proof. Still, to finally attempt his plan…

“Time to get this over with,” Drakos told himself. He’d spoken to Nar Falcon, who would run the Builder Teleportor if needed to give Thrax a lesson or two. Just as they had caused nuclear meltdowns on the colony world—a naked New Man teleported into the heart of an attack saucer could cause the warship to explode from a core meltdown.

Drakos whirled around and marched for the hangar bay.

***

The shuttle maneuvered through the mass of attack saucers. The four Juggernauts were behind the main formation. The twelve star cruisers were on the left flank.

The entire Joint Fleet moved through a system’s Oort cloud to reach a special wormhole that did not need Laumer Point Engines to open. That point swirled five hundred thousand kilometers away. Once through it, they would be only four jumps from the Gomez System.

The shuttle pilot pointed through a polarized window. The center attack saucer was Thrax’s flagship. It was the most protected vessel in the fleet.

As the shuttle headed for the flagship, as hangar bay doors began opening over there, Drakos realized he hadn’t studied Thrax’s psychology as much as he might have. Frankly, he hadn’t thought it worth the effort. The bug lord had made the expected moves each time. Did that mean Thrax was more subtle than Drakos realized? That Thrax had acted predictably until this moment…

I don’t think he’s outmaneuvered me, Drakos told himself.

The superior shook his head. There was no use worrying about it now. If Thrax had outmaneuvered him somehow, he would not live to see a new day—unless Nar Falcon came through and Thrax changed his mind after witnessing several exploding attack-saucers. In any case, Drakos vowed that he would never allow himself to be in this type of situation again. If Thrax had outthought and outmaneuvered him, or if one of his underlings had done it, Drakos would kill as many of his foes as he could. The willingness to die gloriously in combat was one of the hallmarks of a hero.

That’s what I am, Drakos told himself. I am the hero of heroes. They will sing tales of my heroism for centuries to come.

Satisfied with himself, Drakos sat back. Whatever happened, he would win either a hero’s death or a strategist’s correct guess. How could it be any better than that?

***

Drakos walked proudly through the attack saucer’s humid, soggy-decked corridors. He and his men wore their combat suits. Heavy blasters hung on their hips. It was much hotter in here than he liked, though.

Drakos shrugged as the group turned a corner.

“Sire,” the chief of security said.

“Easy,” Drakos said. “I see them.”

Ten big soldier bugs hefted heavy rifles in their pincers. The bugs stood before what appeared to be a thick hatch, waiting for them.

Drakos led his escort toward the soldier bugs, halting in front of them. He did not ask about Thrax. He was showing the bugs and his men that he did not care. He was above worry. He was the warlord of space, and his calm was a reaction to his greatness.

The hatch slid open, and the soldier bugs scuttled aside. Supremacy Thrax glistened as if someone had rubbed his exoskeleton with oil. His mandibles moved, and the translator box on his thorax blinked.

“Welcome, Ally,” the box said for Thrax. “Won’t you enter?”

“Wait here,” Drakos told his escort.

The soldier bugs did not follow him into the chamber. The security team also waited outside.

The hatch slid shut, sealing the two commanders in the chamber. Drakos looked around. This was a small room and had the same spongy deck as the corridor. There were screens on the bulkheads and little else.

“I often view the stars from this chamber,” Thrax said.

Drakos dipped his head.

The giant mantis-type bug stared at him. “You show great courage for a mammal. Last time, you refused to be parted from your guards.”

“We are confirmed allies,” Drakos said.

“And you must realize that I can squash all of you just as easily as I can squash you here alone in this chamber.”

Drakos hid his outrage, speaking softly. “I realize we are about to win a glorious battle together. I realize that if we stick together, we can both achieve what we want.”

“That is code for something. What are you trying to tell me?”

“I have learned that Professor Ludendorff is coming to us.” The agent on Pluto had told Drakos that.

Thrax clacked his pincers. “How is it possible you know this?”

“Good question, Supremacy. Do you mind if I take some time to really explain it?”

“I insist you do,” Thrax said.

Drakos spread his feet wide and put his right hand on the butt of his holstered blaster. He told Thrax about the Builder Scanner, how Star Watch and the Throne World had used it before to defeat the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021.

“That explains so much,” Thrax said. “We did not know.”

Drakos talked about the long-range Builder comm devices, and Thrax clacked his pincers.

“While the Imperium has great numbers,” Thrax said, “humans are masters of high technology.”

“Yes and no,” Drakos said. “My point in telling you all this is to let you know that I have an agent on Pluto.”

“The home to this Builder Scanner,” Thrax said. “Yet…why wait until now to tell me? Is their fleet so big that we cannot win?”

“On the contrary, Supremacy, I have a technological item that I can use once. It is very old and fragile. And I will have to install it in one of the Juggernauts. We must both know the Juggernaut will never survive the weapon’s use.”

“What kind of weapon?”

“A deflection or a shadowy kind, which means it is not strictly a weapon.”

Thereupon, Drakos told Thrax in detail what the ancient device did and how he planned to use it. Soon, Thrax was bobbing up and down as he clicked his pincers.

“That is clever, Lord Drakos. We will win a resounding, crushing victory. They will never expect it.”

Drakos grinned, realizing that Thrax understood very well how important this first battle would be.

-8-

The Gomez System was like the Tau Ceti System in many ways. It possessed a G-class star but with only 88 percent the Sun’s mass. It had four planets instead of five, one in the habitable belt, and it had a thicker debris disk.

The Gomez System had fifteen times as much cometary and asteroidal material orbiting its star as the Sun possessed in the Solar System. It also had far more dust and gaseous clouds drifting through various parts of the system. The planets and asteroids suffered far more impact events, making life here far harder to maintain—not that any living creatures presently inhabited the system.

During the First Swarm Invasion, the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021 had entered the Tau Ceti Oort cloud through strict velocity, having traveled six months to reach the system. Star Watch and the New Men had been able to build a massive missile belt to meet the 80,000 Swarm warships. There, it had simply been mass meeting mass, with the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021 finally smashing all resistance or forcing it to flee, but at a bloody cost to itself.

In the Gomez System, things were not quite that easy. The enemy Joint Fleet had star-drive jump vessels that had occasionally used Laumer Points to aid their journey. The Gomez System possessed many Laumer Points. Why that was so, no human or Swarm creature knew. Perhaps the Builders could have said, but they hadn’t left any records that humanity had discovered on the topic.

In this sort of plan, decisions were based off probable actions. Admiral Byron and Golden Ural had set aside the Lord High Admiral’s idea of a missile belt. While the two commanders were fairly certain which route the Joint Fleet would use entering the Gomez System, if they guessed wrong, all those pre-placed missiles would be useless in the fight. It would be far wiser, each commander had agreed, to keep the missiles in the warships carrying them. In this way, if the Joint Fleet acted in an unpredictable manner, the Allied ships could re-maneuver into a new combat position and bring those missiles into play.

The Herford-class supply ships had brought extra missiles. Those missiles the supply ships had emptied in three prearranged locations. Two of those clumps waited outside probable Laumer Point exits by one million kilometers. The last clump waited near a probable Laumer Point the Joint Fleet would likely use as it left the Gomez System and headed for the Commonwealth.

Admiral Byron positioned most of his vessels behind the second planet, a terrestrial body near the two likely entry Laumer Points. He kept the fifteen Bismarck-class battleships near the star, as these heavies each had star-drive jump capabilities.

Golden Ural positioned his seventeen star cruisers near the third planet. The star cruisers would form a small cone of battle, using the classic New Man formation.

Victory waited with the Star Watch battleships.

The Joint Fleet possessed more ships and greater tonnage. Most of the enemy’s warships were smaller than the Star Watch vessels. The four Juggernauts made a huge difference. Without them, Star Watch and Ural’s vessels had greater tonnage and firepower. With them, Lord Drakos and Commander Thrax had become far more dangerous.

According to the latest message from the Lord High Admiral, the Joint Fleet was only hours away from using Laumer Point one and/or two to enter the Gomez System. If the enemy used either route, this was going to be a slaughter as the Allied ships hit them while in the grip of Jump Lag.

-9-

Drakos made the final adjustments to the alien unit installed in the selected Juggernaut. He worked like a common laborer, with mind-controlled dominants aiding him.

The chamber was vast inside the Juggernaut. Huge cylinders whirred with power, causing the very air to vibrate.

The control unit looked like a giant cube with swirling colors on all sides. Cables ran like spider-webs from the cube to the cylinders. The cube began to pulse, and the swirling energies in the cylinders whirled faster and faster.

Drakos had discovered the cube and cylinders stashed in one of the Methuselah Man Strand clone stations. The clone had told him how to use the alien devices. Now, Drakos was about to learn if the clone had lied or not. He was relatively certain the clone had spoken truthfully, as the Strand clone had given up the information under supreme duress. Yet, could the clone have also added a wrong touch here and there, so the unit exploded against his tormenter?

Drakos rather doubted it, but one could never know until the actual event took place. It was funny. He would have used the surprise later, as he hadn’t expected the secret agent on Pluto to come through and give him exact and thus important data. Obtaining the agent had been an expensive gamble, one that had paid off gloriously in the end.

This would be a matter of timing. It would likely succeed because Drakos knew about a limitation regarding the Builder Scanner. The great device always looked at objects from its present location, from a single viewpoint. That seemed obvious, but it could be critical. If the Builder Scanner looked at the Gomez System, it would do so as if looking from the Solar System. Thus, if a ship were behind a planet, the scanner would not see it unless the operator zoomed in behind the planet in relation to its position on Pluto.

What was the old saying? For a want of a horseshoe, a kingdom was lost. Would the operators in Pluto recognize that they needed to look behind the gas giant?

“I won’t give them enough time to think about it,” Drakos said.

“Lord?” a dominant asked.

Drakos shook his head. Then, he examined the complex machinery. Everything seemed to be in order. He couldn’t stay here to run it. The mind-controlled dominants wouldn’t know enough about what to do if he left any of them. The alien machinery would have to work on its own, or his plan would fail.

He’d already given the ship’s AI orders on how to fly the Juggernaut. There was nothing left to do.

So…why didn’t he pack up and leave?

It was the butterflies in his stomach stopping him. The anticipation of the coming battle had made his gut seethe. He seldom felt such sensations, such uncertainty that could bring gross defeat or glorious victory. How many times in his life would he face such a moment as this? Not too many, was the answer. Therefore, he savored this moment. He luxuriated in the butterflies churning in his gut.

The mind-controlled dominants gathered in a group and waited silently. They might wonder what he was doing, but they would not ask because he’d ordered them not to. Still, he could feel their silent questions in their eyes.

“Let’s go,” Drakos said. “We’re done here.”

Without a word, they filed after him, heading for the lift that would take them to the hangar bay. It was time to get back to the Agamemnon. The first stage of the battle was about to begin.

-10-

Far away on Pluto, the Lord High Admiral was in the main nerve center of the Builder Scanner Operations Room.

Commandant Konev issued orders. Her workers around the circular area each manipulated his or her board.

The nerve center shuddered. Everyone sat bolt upright or stood very still. Three seconds later, the shuddering ceased. A few people glanced at their neighbors, while others went back to work. A moment later, the glancers started working again too.

Konev stepped beside the Lord High Admiral. She didn’t turn to him or say anything. She simply stood there.

“I know,” Cook said quietly. “We’re overusing the scanner. But I…don’t know how to explain it. I have to see. I have to know. I have this sense that Lord Drakos is up to something.”

Konev glanced at the Lord High Admiral. She seemed astonished. “In my opinion, sir…”

He nodded for her to finish the thought.

“This Lord Drakos has been acting quite predictably. It’s been easier each time to find his Joint Fleet after every star-drive jump. I almost feel qualified to tell you exactly how he’ll reach the Commonwealth and which worlds he’ll attack first.”

“He’ll attack none,” Cook said flatly. “As we’re going to destroy that nightmare today.”

“Of course, Admiral. I quite agree. But that shudder we all felt is the engines overheating and the response to that. More cyclers came online, too many. We don’t want that to happen again.”

“Are you saying we should shut down the scanner now and let it rest?”

“For a few hours, anyway,” she said. “Days would be better.”

“Days is out of the question.”

“I realize that, sir. I’m just—”

“Commandant,” an operative said urgently, interrupting her.

Cook and Konev turned toward the operative. He pointed at the main screen. The two turned there.

Cook felt drawn to the main screen. The big old man frowned as he walked closer. “What’s the idea, I wonder?”

On the main screen, the Builder Scanner showed the Joint Fleet. It turned toward a gas giant. Before that, the fleet had been headed directly toward Laumer Point Two that would take it into the Gomez System.”

“Does the maneuver seem odd to you?” Cook asked Konev.

The commandant shook her head.

“It’s odd to me,” Cook said. “I can’t find a reason for it. Perhaps the scanner should look behind the gas giant when the fleet goes behind it.”

The commandant hesitated.

“Or would that strain the cyclers too much?” Cook asked.

“It might,” Konev said quietly.

“The fleet is braking,” the operative said.

“That’s even stranger,” Cook said. “Commandant—”

She moved forward sharply, stepping beside Cook. “Sir,” she whispered. “Let’s wait a moment. I really don’t want to add more strain to the scanner. That shudder a few moments ago…”

Cook nodded glumly. He couldn’t have explained to anyone why he felt this way. Was his worry about the battle overcoming his good sense? If Star Watch lost this fight—an inconceivable thing, really—or if the Patrol Fleet took heavy losses…

Cook could swear he could feel the danger to the Commonwealth. Call it a hunch. Forces were swirling out there that hated, that yearned to devour humanity. The greater Imperial Swarm threat was gone for decades, hopefully. This was something else, something waiting and watching to strike. He had to build up Star Watch, not let it die by inches. They had to smash Lord Drakos and his bug allies.

“There they go,” the operative said.

The entire Joint Fleet maneuvered behind the gas giant. It made absolutely no sense. Was the Joint Fleet going to come to a stop back there? Would that imply Drakos or Thrax knew the Builder Scanner watched them? Drakos would know about the scanner’s existence. They had all agreed on that. He would have learned about it during the First Swarm War when he’d fought with the other New Men as allies. But would that mean he knew the Builder Scanner was watching his fleet now?

Cook actually wrung his hands. The pre-battle jitters were driving him crazy.

-11-

Each vessel of the massed Joint Fleet began emergency braking once it was behind the gas giant in relation to the Builder Scanner on Pluto. Each vessel but for the selected Juggernaut. That giant warship continued on its course.

The attack saucers, the star cruisers and the three Juggernauts used hard thrust, braking, doing everything in their power to bring the ships to a complete halt.

As they did so, the lone Juggernaut rotated first in one direction and then another. Inside the giant ship, the swirling cube and the whirring cylinders worked hard, photographing each vessel in the Joint Fleet. That took precious time.

Drakos watched from his command chair aboard the Agamemnon. He sat utterly still, not allowing himself any gesture of impatience or worry. He had to set a pattern for his crew and in a sense, for history. He had no doubt that others would write about him in years to come. They would use every source they could find to understand his greatness. Some might look back at videos to see how he acted during times of greatest stress. Let them look. Let them study. They would see a superior at peace with himself. They would marvel at his preeminence. They would shake their heads, asking how the supermen of the Throne World could have picked the loser of the Emperor over Lord Drakos.

Yes, this was his moment. He had striven so hard to reach this place. He would have to open himself and taste every feeling as he crushed his enemies. First, though, the damned alien device needed to work.

What was taking it so long? Why hadn’t—

At that point, the alien duplicator in the Juggernaut began to produce exact replicas of the photographed vessels. Attack saucers appeared. Star cruisers in perfect imitation shimmered into existence. Then, the Juggernauts materialized.

Nar Falcon stared at him. “Lord,” the superior said in awe, “what is happening?”

He’d told Nar Falcon what would happen. Why would the superior ask him that now? The man should know. Had he doubted?

Drakos inhaled through his nostrils, and with exaggerated slowness, he turned to Nar Falcon. “Break out the Far-Tracker, and make haste. We have to set it up and determine the best moment to strike.”

“We already know.”

Drakos squinted at his subordinate.

“Yes, lord,” Nar Falcon said. “I will get to it at once.”

***

Far away, inside cold Pluto, the Lord High Admiral and the Commandant watched the main screen.

“Look!” the operative shouted. “The first attack saucers are appearing.”

Cook took one step closer to the main screen. Indeed, the first Swarm saucer-shaped ship moved from behind the gas giant in relation to the scanner. As those warships cleared the gas giant’s horizon, others followed.

“Are they still braking?” asked Cook.

The operative manipulated his board. “Negative, Admiral. The Joint Fleet is back on course. It’s heading for Laumer Point Two, which will take it into the Gomez System.”

Cook turned back to Konev. “Why did they go behind the gas giant?”

She shrugged.

Cook scratched his scalp. “I would like to look behind the gas giant and see what’s there.”

“We can do that,” the commandant said.

Cook continued to scratch his head. Up until now, everything the Joint Fleet did made logical sense. The last maneuver had not. Of course, he would not order the Builder Scanner to look behind the gas giant. He didn’t want to strain the cyclers. Besides, the reason the enemy had done that was probably something obvious, and he did not care to seem like a worrywart in front of everyone. He was acting too concerned as it was.

Cook smiled at Konev. “Switch the setting, Commandant. Focus the scanner on the Gomez System end of Laumer Point Two. The enemy is falling into our trap. I’m relieved, quite relieved.”

Konev nodded. “Should we send a message to Admiral Byron?”

“I’ll do that,” Cook said. “Carry on.” He headed for the exit. After several steps, he halted and scanned the personnel. “Good work everyone,” he said, nodding to several people. Then he resumed his pace, eager to make the call to Admiral Byron.

-12-

Cook left the nerve center of the Builder Scanner on Pluto, striding down the corridors. He hurried to the long-range Builder comm device chamber. He was going to call Byron and tell him the Joint Fleet was headed for Laumer Point Two. For once, the enemy was doing exactly what they hoped he would do. That was such a relief, a vast relief. He had been so worried all this time—

“Oh, Brigadier, come here please.”

Mary was walking down a different corridor with her guards in attendance. She was likely walking for exercise. It was a little odd she was this near the nerve center.

Mary increased her pace, the two guards falling back a little, no doubt to give her some privacy with the old man.

Cook waited in the junction. “Come here. Run,” he told her, motioning.

Mary did just that, running, and doing a good job of it for a woman her age. “Is Maddox all right?”

Cook took one of her arms, linking it with one of his, turning toward the Comm Room. “It’s better than that, Brigadier. The enemy is falling into our hands.”

“Oh?” she asked.

Cook looked down at her. “You must feel awful, being in the dark all this time. It was for a good reason, a good cause.”

“I know that,” she said.

“Well, Drakos’ Joint Fleet is heading for a Laumer Point that will take it directly into the jaws of a trap.”

“Really?” she asked. “How marvelous.”

Cook nodded. It was stupendous. The great fear, a bloody battle— “Lord Drakos is taking his fleet smack down into a blizzard of waiting missiles. They will devastate his force. Then, just like Hannibal did at Cannae, our fleet will surround and annihilate his threat once and for all.”

“That sounds too good to be true,” Mary said.

“Doesn’t it?” asked Cook. “I imagine Hannibal’s captains said the same thing as the Romans marched to their doom.”

The Battle of Cannae fought on August 2, 216 B.C. was considered by many to be the most perfect battle ever fought. There, Hannibal Barca’s smaller army faced the largest Roman Legionary host ever assembled in one place. The Romans had marched packed tight like sardines, planning to crush the smaller army with their superior weight. Instead, through brilliant maneuvering and hard fighting, and through superior cavalry, Hannibal had surrounded the enemy as his troops butchered the Romans for hours, many of them crammed too tightly against each other to even raise their arms to defend themselves.

Mary was thoughtful as they walked together. “Lord Drakos has never been a fool.”

“He can’t know we’ve been watching him.”

“He can. Drakos knows Star Watch possesses a Builder Scanner.”

“I know that,” Cook said. “But…” He frowned.

“What is it?” Mary asked. “You’ve thought of something.”

“Well, I was worried a few minutes ago, but it was all for nothing.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Mary asked.

Cook pursed his lips, started shaking his head and then shrugged. As they headed for the Comm Room, he gave her a quick rundown regarding what had just happened.

“That is strange,” Mary said. “Why would Drakos take his fleet behind the gas giant?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue,” Cook said.

“And the scanner can’t look?”

“I have it trained on Laumer Point Two in the Gomez System.”

“That’s logical,” Mary said, with her brows furrowed.

Cook looked down at her. “Can you conceive of a reason why the Joint Fleet did such a thing?”

“No. I also don’t like mysteries. If I were you—” She broke off.

“Brigadier, what were you going to say?”

“I’d use Maddox. If this battle is going to be a turkey shoot, you don’t need his starship.”

“Trying to keep your Maddox out of harm’s way?” Cook chided.

“I don’t like mysteries, Admiral. I’d send Victory to the gas giant and have Maddox look behind it. Have him do it at once, too.”

“I would look silly ordering that.”

Mary stopped, and she put a hand out, stopping the bigger man. “When did you ever care about looking silly? You care about the Commonwealth’s safety. That’s first. If you look silly while you do your job, who cares? I don’t, and who else is going to know?”

Cook stared deeply into her eyes. He saw her concern. He understood her reasoning. Yet, if the enemy fleet was heading for Laumer Point Two—

“To put its head into the perfect trap,” Cook muttered.

“Eh?” asked Mary.

Cook grabbed her by the right shoulder and shoved her away as he lumbered for the Comm Room. He had a call to make, but now he was going to speak with Captain Maddox first before he called Admiral Byron.

-13-

“Maddox here,” the captain said into the main screen. On it, Golden Ural studied him. “I’m leaving on the Lord High Admiral’s orders.”

“Leaving in the face of battle?” asked Ural.

“Thought you might view it like that,” Maddox said. “There’s something odd going on in the Teres System.”

“The one linked by Laumer Points to the Gomez System,” Ural said.

“The one the Joint Fleet is supposed to be departing to come here, right,” Maddox said. “So, I might be jumping into it sooner than any of you.”

“Is there a reason for such madness?”

“Curiosity.”

“Not yours, clearly,” Ural said. He made a fluttering motion with his long fingers. “Go then. Scout. We will have the honor of destroying the remnant of the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021. Perhaps I can talk Drakos’s star cruiser captains into standing down afterward.”

“Good luck,” Maddox said.

Ural opened his mouth, and then closed it, nodding. “Until we speak again, Captain.” The New Man’s image disappeared from the screen.

Maddox slapped an armrest. “Here we go. It’s time. Lieutenant Maker, is the course plotted?”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Keith said from Helm.

“Valerie?” Maddox asked.

“Ready to scan and report.”

“Galyan?”

“I still do not understand our orders,” the holoimage said. “They seem odd at this point.”

Maddox shrugged. “Drakos seems to be making a huge error, heading for a disaster. Our side can hardly believe it. Thus, they’ve invented reasons for what could have gone wrong. This gas giant in the Teres System—we’re going to look behind it.”

“Why do you think Drakos flew behind the gas giant before heading toward the Laumer Point?” Galyan asked.

“No idea,” Maddox said. “But if I know Drakos, he has a reason. We need to find out what.”

“It ruffled feathers,” Galyan said.

Maddox smiled. “Learned a new phrase, have you?”

“Let us suppose that Lord Drakos had an actual reason for ordering his fleet to slide behind,” Galyan said. “What reason could he have?”

Maddox blinked several times. The smile disappeared. Furrow lines showed on his brow. “Right,” he said. “Listen up, people. We’re in a combat zone. Let’s take nothing for granted. Maybe High Command has stumbled onto something. I want all of you ready for anything.”

The captain tapped his chin. “Mr. Maker.”

“Aye, mate?” Keith said. “I mean, yes sir?”

“Make a jump course correction. I don’t want to come right in on the other side of the Teres gas giant. I want you to set a course for five hundred thousand kilometers on the other side of the gas giant.”

“Yes, sir, mate,” Keith said, as he began plotting a new course.

“Does that make you feel better?” Maddox asked Galyan.

“Yes,” Galyan said. “As you suggest, this is a combat zone. If the New Man has a surprise, we should strive to not let it surprise us too badly.”

“Lieutenant,” Maddox said, speaking to Valerie, who had cocked an ear toward them.

She looked up.

“What do you think of Galyan’s reasoning?” Maddox asked.

Valerie blushed, but she forged ahead, saying, “I agree with it, sir.”

“As do I,” Maddox said. “Well, Mr. Maker, how long is this going to take?

Keith manipulated his board for seven more seconds before twisting around. “I’m ready to jump, sir.”

“Engage the star-drive,” Maddox said.

***

As the crew of Victory prepared to jump, the huge Juggernaut with the alien duplicator inside it reached Laumer Point Two in the Teres System. The ball-bearing-shaped warship twenty kilometers in diameter plunged into the wormhole, zipping along the linked route three and three-quarters light-years until it popped out of Laumer Point Two in the Gomez System.

Every duplicated replica shimmered like a bad holoimage for one tenth of a second. That was Jump Lag. Whoever had made the tech item had known a thing or two about such lag. The replicas appeared solid again and would show enemy sensors the same data as the real McCoys would have shown.

The Juggernaut had moved through velocity upon exiting and while lagged. Its motive power returned, and it resumed its heading, forging through the dust particles and drifting gases. The vast fake Joint Fleet appeared to do the same thing, mimicking what the real attack saucers, star cruisers and Juggernauts would have done.

The replicas headed for waiting missiles drifting in the void of space for just such a time as this.

***

Admiral Byron III sat with his legs crossed on the command chair of Flagship Kaiser Wilhelm. The fifteen Bismarck-class battleships were in orbit around the star, about one-half of the distance that Mercury orbited the Sun.

The rest of the fleet waited behind the second planet, approximately ten million kilometers from Laumer Point Two.

“Look, sir,” the sensor officer said.

Byron savored this. It had been his idea with a few modifications from the others. He knew the Lord High Admiral would likely try to take credit for some of the idea. If he could crush the Joint Fleet in the next hour, he would have enough credit to share with the old man.

Byron nodded. He had always known that he was a brilliant tactician. Now, history would see that, too. He cleared his throat. “Send the order, Harry. Unleash the dogs of war.”

Harry, a squat bald man from Flanders, turned around. “Admiral?”

“The dogs of war, man,” Byron said. “Tell second, third and fourth flotillas to begin acceleration. They’re to maneuver exactly as we practiced in the war game simulations. We’re going to recreate Cannae today, but in space. Why aren’t the missiles moving?”

“They’re locked, sir. Should I send the message to unlock them, too?”

“Unlock them at once,” Byron said. “Then, call the battleship captains. It’s time to jump into killing position. We’re going to surround those bastards and annihilate every one of them.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” Captain Austin asked, the commander of the Kaiser Wilhelm.

“What?” asked Byron.

“Should we avoid firing on the enemy star cruisers?”

A feral smile stretched onto Byron III’s lips. “I want those targeted first. Burn them into cinders, Captain. We want to make sure no New Man survives this day to hurt our kind again.”

Captain Austin nodded.

Byron clapped his hands. “This is it. The crushing is about to begin.”

-14-

The Star Watch missiles approximately one million kilometers from Laumer Point Two received the unlock message and started moving, exhaust tails quickly growing.

At the same time, the Patrol Fleet warships behind the second planet swung around it, accelerating fast for the enemy ships, with only the four carriers hanging back. From the carriers, strikefighters and fold-fighters began to launch.

Golden Ural’s flotilla had already made its star-drive jump. They appeared on the Joint Fleet’s flank by ten million kilometers, the flank facing the system’s Oort cloud. Jump Lag was striking the star cruisers. Soon, though, they would be out of lag and ready to maneuver into their cone of battle.

The Bismarck-class battleships started appearing in their new positions. They were on the Joint Fleet’s other flank, the one facing the Gomez star. Jump Lag was striking them. They would shake it off shortly after the allied New Men did.

As of yet, the enemy Joint Fleet had made no reactions to these maneuvers. It was quite startling, really. The few people who asked themselves about that assumed the thicker debris, dust and drifting gas clouds must account for that, hiding them from the unwary enemy.

Aboard the Boreas on its bridge, Golden Ural raised his head and then rose from his command chair. He began shaking those of his bridge personnel still under the grip of Jump Lag. Afterward, he began issuing orders. The seventeen star cruisers under his command began forming a cone of battle.

Admiral Byron issued orders from the Kaiser Wilhelm. The fifteen heavy battleships bored in toward the Joint Fleet’s flank.

Byron glanced at the tactical hologram tank to his side. The missiles moved in, and the enemy hadn’t begun any countermeasures. This was almost too good to be true. This was a perfect ambush.

Behind the missiles by almost eight million kilometers came the first wave, this one of monitors. They were heavily armored and shielded vessels, slower than the other capital ships. They had started first at almost max acceleration. Behind the monitors by half a million kilometers were Star Watch heavy and attack cruisers. The destroyers and escorts were above, below and slightly behind the cruisers. As the vessels approached the enemy, various ships began to move upward and downward, attempting to create a net effect. This time, Byron was attempting a classic englobement, even though it looked like the allies wouldn’t need it.

“The Joint Fleet is still heading straight for the missiles,” Captain Austin said in astonishment.

Byron grinned. Here it started. Here the legend began. Austin would tell posterity how Byron had known exactly what to do even before the enemy had appeared.

“Let’s not be hasty,” Byron said. He could feel total victory in his grasp, but he didn’t want to gloat, as that was bad manners. “Are the links open with the missiles? Maybe the enemy is attempting to jam them, and we don’t know it.”

The sensor officer looked up, shaking her head. “There is no enemy jamming, sir. I am…” She studied her board.

“Yes,” Byron asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“I’m detecting some odd readings, sir,” the sensor officer said, one of the best in the fleet. She was Lieutenant Maddie Jones, a dark-haired, slender woman from the Sigma Draconis System.

“Jamming?” asked Byron.

“No…” Jones said. “I’ve never detected anything like it. Normally, I wouldn’t even be checking this band.” She turned to Byron. “Sir, I don’t know what to think.”

“No need,” Byron said. “A few minutes from now, none of that is going to matter. Why, I’m beginning to think the missiles will take out the enemy all by their lonesome. I have yet to see the enemy react at all.”

“I know,” Captain Austin said. “It seems ominous.”

Byron turned to the captain sharply. “Nonsense, man. We’ve caught the great Lord Drakos and that hideous bug commander by surprise. This is the greatest moment of my life.”

Austin studied the admiral before turning to Lieutenant Jones. “I’d like to know what exactly you’ve been detecting. It might explain why they aren’t doing anything.”

“What are you suggesting?” Byron asked. “Do you think the enemy possesses super-shields so they’re immune to us?”

Austin frowned. “That would explain their sangfroid, certainly. They have to see us. Look, the cone has formed. The New Men are starting their attack run. It’s impossible that Drakos’s fleet hasn’t seen us. Sir, I think something is wrong.”

Byron felt a flutter of unease in his gut. “Let’s not get carried away,” he said. “Once the missiles ignite, we’re going to know a lot more.”

-15-

The Far-Tracker behind the gas giant in the Teres System showed its first “photograph,” a broad look at Laumer Point Two and its greater environs.

Drakos studied the photograph with a keen eye. Nar Falcon would have done this if he had been on the bridge. The second in command was in the hangar bay, ready at the Builder Teleportor to send the first hypnotized dominant into an enemy’s engine room.

Drakos studied the photograph quickly and effectively. He had arranged seven different possibilities beforehand. The enemy formation looked most like Plan 5. Yes, Plan 5, and he would not add any contingency orders to it.

Drakos’s gut seethed. The fools had fallen for the trap as they attempted to ambush him. He couldn’t believe this was going to work.

“Broad channel,” he said.

“Open, lord,” the comm officer said.

“This is Lord Drakos. Initiate Plan 5. I repeat: we will jump using Plan 5. Strike hard. Strike fast, and we will annihilate the first enemy fleet. Begin Plan 5 now.”

“Sir!” the sensor officer said.

Drakos pointed at the agitated superior.

“An enemy ship has come out of a star-drive jump, and apparently out of Jump Lag too.”

Drakos’s gut tightened. Had the enemy outmaneuvered him? Had his Pluto spy given him away? He should have known never to trust the—

“It’s Victory, lord,” the sensor operator said. “The starship is alone.”

“Maddox,” said Drakos. “Maddox is out there. Damn. I’d like to stay and capture the upstart. That will have to wait.” He gave the sensor operator a piercing glance. “You’re sure there are no other warships with Victory?”

“No, lord,” the sensor operator said.

“Well, he’ll know what I’m doing,” Drakos said. “But it shouldn’t make any difference at this point. This is about gaining position, and we’re going to have the drop on Star Watch.”

“Captain Maddox is hailing us,” the comm officer said.

“Ignore him,” Drakos said. “Helm, why haven’t we jumped yet?” The superior feared that Victory carried some special device that would stop the Joint Fleet from jumping. Then, he saw on the main screen that the first attack saucers were disappearing. It was happening.

Drakos laughed like a wolf about to tear open the belly of his prey. Then, the Agamemnon jumped, disappearing from the Teres System.

***

Admiral Byron watched with building anticipation from his command chair on the Kaiser Wilhelm. The missiles were almost in range.

He shouted with exultation as the first missile warhead detonated. These were shaped-charged nuclear warheads with rods on the cones. As the nuclear warheads detonated, gamma and X-rays traveled up the rods, directed at targeted attack saucers.

As soon as the first warhead ignited, the majority of the missile warheads did likewise, each of them sending their gamma and X-rays and producing a whiteout as well. That meant waves of hot gamma and X-ray radiation speared at pre-targeted enemy warships.

The crews aboard the monitors, heavy and attack cruisers, the destroyers and escorts could not see what was happening, as they were behind the missiles. The whiteouts thus hid the Joint Fleet from their combined sensors.

The crews aboard the fifteen Bismarck-class battleships and the star cruisers on the other flank could see to a degree, although their sensor images were fuzzy from the mass of radiation and expanding EMPs.

“This is amazing,” said Lieutenant Jones on the Kaiser Wilhelm’s bridge. “The enemy ships are shimmering, but then reappear just as before.”

Admiral Byron leaned forward on his chair. “That’s not possible. The missiles should have taken out half their fleet, maybe all of it. You’re telling me nothing is happening?”

“I don’t understand this, sir,” Jones said. “This is impossible. It can’t be happening. Yet, it is.”

Byron shot to his feet, staring at the main screen. “Your sensors must be frozen. The computer must be showing us how the enemy fleet was, not how it is right now.”

“I’m running a diagnostic, sir. Everything is in working order.”

“Sir,” the comm officer said. “I’m getting reports from other battleship captains. The enemy fleet is unfazed.”

“What does Ural see?” Byron asked.

The comm officer shook her head. “I can’t beam a message to him just yet, sir. I’ll have to wait until the whiteouts and EMPs dissipate.”

“That field you detected before,” Byron told Jones. “Is it still there?”

“I’m checking, sir,” Jones said as she manipulated her board. “Yes. The odd readings are still there.”

“The radiation had no effect on the field?” Byron asked, with panic in his voice.

“It did, momentarily. The gamma and X-rays disrupted—oh, this is interesting. There are various fields, sir, nodes of energy, if you will. I wonder why I didn’t see that earlier.”

“What does that mean?” Byron shouted. “Is that how they absorbed the missiles?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“I want some answers,” Byron shouted. “I want them now. Why can’t we hurt the Joint Fleet?”

-16-

Aboard the Star Cruiser Agamemnon, on its bridge, Lord Drakos raised his head. As he did, the main screen came back online. An explosion flared into existence, shown on the screen.

“What was that?” Drakos slurred.

“Antimatter explosion,” the sensor operator, a dominant, said.

“Ours?” asked Drakos.

“Negative, lord. That was a Star Watch detonation.”

As the sensor operator spoke, another antimatter explosion blossomed into existence on the screen.

More of the Agamemnon’s bridge crew came out of Jump Lag. The star cruiser’s engines began working properly and the shield shimmered into view.

“The explosions are hampering our sensors,” the operator said.

“Show me the planet,” Drakos snapped.

The second terrestrial planet of the Gomez System appeared large as could be. The star cruisers had dropped out of star-drive jump almost in near planetary orbit. A few—

“There’s a Star Watch carrier, lord,” the sensor operator said.

On the screen appeared a large, oval-shaped ship with oversized hangar bay doors, an SWS Themistocles-class carrier.

“That must be what is happening,” Drakos guessed. “The carrier’s fold-fighters came back, or a few fold-fighters remained behind the planet, probably guarding the carriers. Damn them. Get the cannons online. We have to destroy those gnats now. I believe each fold-fighter carries an antimatter missile.”

A third detonation out there meant a third antimatter missile doing horrendous damage. This latest antimatter warhead had exploded too near the Star Watch carrier. The wave energy knocked down the carrier’s shield and caused armored hull to buckle. After the wave passed, half of the carrier was a mangled, twisted mass of metal.

Now, the star cruisers of Drakos’s flotilla had shields up and sensors straining. They didn’t know it, but each time a fold-fighter had launched its antimatter missile, the pilot had died with the fantastic detonation. Drakos had guessed correctly that these were the few defensive fighters that had stayed behind as carrier protocol dictated. The pilots had taken their fighters as close as possible before launching.

Now that the star cruisers were ready, they beamed three other fold-fighters and a flock of strikefighters that zoomed around the planetary horizon. Afterward, in short order, Drakos’s star cruisers butchered the nearly defenseless carriers, eliminating them from the battle equation.

At the same time that the star cruisers appeared behind the second planet, Thrax’s attack saucers came out of star-drive jump before it.

Plan 5 meant that the star cruisers would take the dangerous job of appearing among the Star Watch vessels behind the planet. This would free the attack saucers to start accelerating at the weakest ships in the enemy Allied Fleet.

That, at least, was how Drakos had sold Plan 5 to Supremacy Thrax. Drakos had decided the star cruisers and Juggernauts would take the least amount of damage this way.

The appearing attack saucers of Supremacy Thrax Ti Ix had faced a few strikefighters, taking hull damage but without losing any vessels. Once the bugs overcame Jump Lag, they slaughtered the rest of the fighters.

Afterward, the attack saucers began accelerating, heading after the “fleeing” heavy and attack cruisers and the destroyers and escorts around them.

This was the essence of Drakos’s plan: hit the enemy fleet while it was piecemeal, doing it each time with the bulk of his Joint Fleet. In this way, he would have a majority of firepower at each point of contact. That should give him an overwhelming victory.

The first part of the plan had worked beautifully and was still working, as Byron and Ural’s flotillas still focused on the fake Joint Fleet, the alien devices inside the rearward, intact Juggernaut continuing to duplicate its photographed ships.

If Drakos had known the alien device was still working after the bombardment of gamma and X-rays from the nuclear warheads, he would have been overjoyed. He had expected the enemy to be bewildered, but regaining his senses by now. The enemy crews were bewildered all right, making plans on how to destroy the fake Joint Fleet, still not realizing they were phantom warships, and thus immune to firepower.

It was at this point in the battle that Victory appeared two hundred thousand kilometers from the Patrol Fleet Flagship, Kaiser Wilhelm.

-17-

Maddox was panting as he raised his head. His upper lip was wet, and he couldn’t understand why. With a weary arm, he moved his hand and touched his lip, peering at red fingers afterward.

“Oh,” Maddox whispered. He was coming out of Jump Lag. He had made a critical decision, deciding to jump back near the position where he figured Byron would have moved the battleships.

His bloody nose was one of the costs of jumping this soon. Victory was a unique vessel due to many of the ancient Adok designs. No other warship of either side could have made two quick jumps like this in such short order. Many of the crew were out, however, but not all, and not Galyan.

The shimmering, barely visible Galyan approached Maddox in jerky fits and starts.

“Bring the main screen online,” Maddox panted.

“Cannot yet, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox drew more air into his lungs. The blood no longer dripped from his nose. He was glad of that. He hoped there were no brain hemorrhages among the crew due to the quick second jump.

He focused, glad that his eyesight was good. “How about now, Galyan?” he asked.

“Soon, sir. I promise to tell you when.”

Valerie groaned at her station.

“Get me Admiral Byron,” Maddox told her.

Valerie nodded even though her eyes were still closed. Her fingers roved over her board. Maybe she knew how to run it blindfolded.

“Soon, sir,” she whispered. “I have to wait…to wait on a few components.”

Maddox tried to practice the Way of the Pilgrim. He could not. He stood, swayed and forced himself to stand still. In the Teres System, he’d tried to hail Lord Drakos before the enemy fleet used its star-drive jump. Wisely, Drakos had ignored him.

Maddox scowled. Galyan had counted the enemy attack saucers, star cruisers and Juggernauts hiding behind the Teres gas giant. The amount had fit with the number the Lord High Admiral had told them. Yet, if he saw the enemy fleet behind the Teres gas giant—

“I have Admiral Byron, sir,” Valerie said.

“The main screen, sir,” Galyan said.

A scowling Admiral Byron appeared on the main screen. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Explain,” Maddox said in a calm voice.

Byron did, his voice showing his agitation and confusion.

“I don’t know how Drakos is doing it,” Maddox said. “But those aren’t real ships you’re seeing. I mean the ones that came out of Laumer Point Two.”

“Speak sense, man,” Byron said.

“It’s a fake fleet,” Maddox said. “I saw the real fleet just before it used its star-drive jump.”

“The enemy used Laumer Point Two.”

“That’s what I’m telling you. No. They did not. Those ships are phantom vessels meant to trick you.”

Admiral Byron shook his head. “This isn’t the time for one of your games, Captain. I’m in charge of all Star Watch ships. Tell me straight, sir, what is going on?”

A surge of annoyance zigzagged through Maddox’s chest. He willed it away. He needed calm. He needed to soothe the admiral.

“Sir,” Galyan said. “I do not want to interrupt you, but I suggest you look at the second planet.”

“Put it on the main screen,” Maddox said.

“Now see here, Captain,” Byron said.

The admiral’s face disappeared. In its place was a wide-angle shot of the second terrestrial planet, a rocky world. A mass of specks dotted the planet. No. Those were accelerating—

“Attack saucers,” Maddox said.

“I thought so too, sir,” Galyan said. “They appear to be chasing the second line.”

“Right,” Maddox said. He turned to Valerie. “Put the admiral back on.”

Byron was fuming, his cheeks bright red as he glared at Maddox. “I’ll have you up on charges, sir. This is—”

“Admiral,” Maddox said, interrupting, and then he realized how he needed to do this. “You were right, sir.”

“What? Eh?” Byron asked.

“I said you’re right, sir. The attack saucers have used their star-drive jump. They’re trying to take the second line from behind.”

“What?” asked Byron, confusion filling his aristocratic features.

“The first force—the one that came out of Lamer Point Two—is a fake force of phantom vessels,” Maddox said. “Drakos and Thrax have tricked us, sir. But you see that. You know to turn the battleships toward the attack saucers, toward the real Swarm vessels.”

Byron looked at Maddox with incomprehension.

“If you aim your sensors at the second planet, sir…” Maddox suggested.

Byron weakly waved his right hand at someone off-screen. A moment later, Byron leaned forward, looking at something, maybe on a split main screen. The admiral swore softly. Then he said, “I-I-I don’t understand this.”

“I don’t either, sir,” Maddox said, “except for this: we must attack those saucers and destroy them. I think Drakos is trying to hit us while we’re piecemeal.”

Byron’s mouth hung open. He slowly closed it. “This must be a New Man trick.”

“No doubt. Admiral Byron, should we attack the bug saucers?”

Byron blinked several times before cocking his head as he peered at Maddox. “How did you know this?”

“I didn’t know any of… Intuition, sir,” Maddox said, switching tack. “I knew it by intuition. A lucky guess.”

Byron nodded weakly. “Yes, yes, they say you make uncanny guesses.” The admiral sat straighter. “Yes,” he said, his voice firming. “We must attack the saucers. They’re heading for our second line. This is an outrage.”

“Hard fighting will save us yet, sir, under your leadership,” Maddox said.

Once more Byron peered at him. The admiral nodded abruptly. “Yes, hard fighting and my leadership, you are correct. The enemy may have tricked us, but we have heavy metals upgrades. Now, it’s time the bugs learned just how deadly Star Watch battleships have become.”

-18-

As the other events occurred, Golden Ural on the Boreas held a meeting with his chief captains via screen-link. They were superiors like him, other highly ranked men on the Throne World, two of them his cousins.

They had observed the detonating missiles’ gamma and X-rays striking the enemy ships and doing absolutely nothing to them.

“I dislike correcting you, Ural. But those ships shimmered for a moment. I saw that before the whiteouts made it impossible to examine longer. So the gamma and X-rays did do something.”

“The enemy ships shimmered,” Ural said. “That would imply—”

“Phantom vessels,” another captain said. “This is an enemy trick.”

As the council of ship-captains debated via screen-link, Ural’s sensor officer asked for his momentary attention.

Ural glanced at the sensor officer, who showed him the attack saucers near the second planet. Those saucers were accelerating, no doubt trying to catch up with the second line of the Star Watch ships.

“Oh, clever, clever Drakos,” Ural said to himself. “This is more to his style. If I’m not careful, he will demand my Sunburst Star from me.” Ural faced the other four captains on the screen. “We have a decision, gentlemen. Do we turn to face the bugs or leave the battle to the submen?”

“Would leaving not be cowardice in the face of battle,” one captain asked.

“Some could construe it that way,” Ural said. “I worry about our seventeen ships.”

“If the submen are slaughtered, would the Joint Fleet turn against the Throne World next?”

“A grim possibility,” Ural said. “It appears we are staying as long as the submen can fight coherently. It is time I contacted Byron. Let’s see if the subman’s balls have shriveled or if he still has some fight left in him.”

Three of the captains chuckled in appreciation of the joke and the always-questionable courage of submen leaders.

“Sir,” the Boreas comm officer said. “Admiral Byron is hailing you.”

“Give me a moment, please,” Ural said to his council members. He nodded to the comm officer.

Admiral Byron appeared on the main screen. “The force that came out of Laumer Point Two is fake. I don’t know how Drakos managed—”

“I’m interrupting you, Admiral. I know that fleet is false. They’re phantom ships. Are you giving new orders to your Patrol Fleet?”

“What do you mean?” Byron asked.

“Are you turning to fight the real enemy?”

“If you mean am I giving the second line of cruisers such orders, no.”

“I deem that a mistake, Admiral. They must turn and fight. Running is wrong now. We have fixed the enemy force. It is behind us. We must get as much mass into the fray as possible. Drakos wants to destroy those ships before the rest of us get into killing range.”

“I know that very well. Don’t try to tell me my job, Ural.”

The tall superior stiffened and his eyes glittered dangerously.

“Are you joining us?” Byron asked.

“In attacking the bug saucers?” asked Ural.

Byron nodded curtly.

“Of course,” Ural said. “The Emperor sent his ships here to fight. Let’s do some fighting, and destroying, shall we?”

“Yes,” Byron said thickly. “Let us fight. I will speak with the second line commander. If we time this right, maybe we can still win.”

“You surprise me, sir. We have better ships. Of course, we will win. We must remember, though, that Drakos has stealth ships. He will still—”

“I’m done talking to you,” Byron said, interrupting. “I have other matters to attend to. Goodbye.”

Ural glanced at the officers on the bridge. “Rude and arrogant submen,” he said. “It is distasteful speaking to them. But perhaps after today we won’t have to bother. Now, let us make our choices and hope these submen fight as hard as they talk.”

-19-

Behind the second planet, aboard the Agamemnon, Drakos learned one bitter lesson. The fold-fighters hadn’t targeted his star cruisers, but the three Juggernauts that had dropped out of star-drive jump with them. The three antimatter explosions had torn the gigantic, twenty-kilometer-diameter Juggernauts into great wrecked hulks. That was a virulent loss indeed. The Juggernauts had been their ace cards, their super-ships. That left the last Juggernaut carrying the alien duplicating machine. Surprisingly, the phantom fleet yet existed, which meant the last Juggernaut did too.

Drakos needed to send it new orders. At the moment, electronic interference made that impossible.

Thrax’s attack saucers were accelerating at high speed at the enemy.

Now, Drakos had to make a decision. Did he order the twelve star cruisers to cloak and maneuver slowly into a key position, or did he maneuver openly in order to help Thrax win a great victory?

Without the majestic weight of the three Juggernauts and their heavy lasers—

Drakos made his decision. He had come here to win, to smash the enemy fleet. He needed a resounding victory in order to pull everyone on the Throne World to his side. That entailed risk. It was time to throw everything he had into the battle and finish this as quickly as he could.

Thus, the twelve star cruisers accelerated around the second planet and rushed to join the bug fleet as it raced at the SWS heavy and attack cruisers together with the destroyer and escorts. Likely, the submen elements in the enemy fleet were numb and shocked. Now was the moment to kill as many of them as he could. The enemy no longer had any carriers. He needed to get rid of the cruisers too.

***

Now, began the real Battle for the Gomez System. The initial moves had given Drakos’ Joint Fleet the tactical advantage, but they’d paid heavily with three lost Juggernauts. The three fold-fighter pilots who had made the kills had paid with their lives for their launches. But their sacrifice and intelligent daring had given Star Watch a chance. No other three lost ships would make such a difference to the battle. Hitting the Juggernauts while they were Jump Lagged—it was a piece of luck brought about through courage and commitment.

Drakos and Ural were correct about the Star Watch crews. They were surprised at this turnaround, and it often took men and women a long time to shake off a surprise and build up new resolve. New Men could recover much more quickly.

Knowing that, Captain Maddox’s quick decision helped Byron and his battleship captains. It also helped the crews on the monitors, cruisers, destroyers and escorts as they received new and decisive orders. Their confusion was not as deep and did not last as long this way. It cost Maddox a bloody nose, which, all things considered, was a cheap price to pay.

According to Admiral Byron’s new orders, the front-line monitors rotated and began decelerating, slowing their former advance toward the Phantom Fleet. The second line of ships continued to accelerate. They were the most lightly armored and shielded, and thus the most susceptible to enemy laser fire. Admiral Byron wanted them out of the fight until the heavier ships engaged.

As the various components of the Patrol Fleet maneuvered for their new positions—the Throne World star cruisers under Ural turned their cone of battle, heading for the monitors—the bug attack saucers were rapidly closing the distance against the second line cruisers.

Supremacy Thrax was in his Battle Room aboard his flagship. He saw his ally’s star cruisers accelerate from around the second planet. That gave him comfort. The New Man wasn’t deserting the hive. It was ill news about the three Juggernauts—

“Now,” Thrax said, judging the moment.

He and his chief controllers had learned hard lessons from the destruction of the Conquering War-Fleet 1,021 during the invasion of Human Space. One of the key lessons was how comparatively weak Swarm heavy lasers were compared to the enemy’s disruptor cannons. To that end, his techs had been studying and testing Rull Juggernaut heavy lasers for years. All his attack saucers had upgrades based on such weapons.

These cannons extended from the attack saucers and began to fire their beams, using their new, greater range and power. And as per the new attack protocols, five saucers concentrated on one enemy vessel at a time.

Instead of choosing the biggest and toughest enemy ships, the attack saucers chose the smaller escorts and destroyers. As the second-line warships fled, escorts first and destroyers second began to blow up like so many popcorn kernels.

The attack saucers slaughtered them. It was sickening.

Finally, Admiral Byron could no longer bear it. He ordered the heavy cruisers and the attack cruisers to rotate and bring their heaviest cannons to bear. There were twenty-nine of them, facing a host of attack saucers, over four times as many.

Disrupter and laser beams burned back at the enemy. It was an uneven contest, and the first attack cruisers disintegrated under the enemy’s laser barrage.

Star Watch attack cruisers were primarily missile-launching platforms. They launched a few, but the velocities and directions were all wrong. Before the missiles could start accelerating at the enemy, they had to brake to reduce their velocity going in the opposite direction.

Thrax’s saucers had a field day and inflicted quick losses upon Star Watch. Even so, such use of upgraded weaponry put a heavy burden on the bug laser systems in each ship. None of the saucers had gone into a dry dock or received thorough maintenance after the First Swarm War. Thrax had decided to repair all his vessels to a minimal degree, instead of having a few perfectly fit vessels. They were worn ships and had more breakdowns in the laser coils, the heat bleeders and the cannons themselves. The longer the saucers engaged in hot combat, the more ship systems had trouble or went down altogether. It did not yet affect the overall effectiveness of the back and forth. But if the saucers had to keep fighting, the buildup of problems might plague the overall bug fleet.

If the Juggernauts were still here—

Thrax clacked his pincers. Three of the wonderful Juggernauts were gone. His fleet was destroying enemy warships at little damage to his own vessels. Compared to the First Swarm War, these were fantastic ratios. During the war, it had been the opposite: many lost Swarm ships for one destroyed Star Watch vessel. Just as good, Lord Drakos was catching up. If they could annihilate the monitors, too, and then star-drive jump away and recoup…that might be the best outcome possible.

***

Drakos witnessed much of the battle on the main screen of the Agamemnon. The long-range bug lasers were doing brilliantly. The upgrades had helped. Now, if he could send new orders to the remaining Juggernaut and use the Builder Teleportor to good advantage—

Drakos pressed a button on his command chair. “Nar Falcon?” he said.

“I am ready, lord. Do you have a target for me?”

“Most certainly I do,” Drakos said. “Choose the closest battleship.”

“Not Starship Victory, lord?” Nar Falcon asked.

“On no account,” Drakos said. “I want Maddox alive. I want the starship. No, no, let us whittle down the number of those ugly battleships. They always were the biggest thorn in our side during the invasion.”

“At once, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

Several of Thrax’s saucers succumbed to heavy cruiser beams. The last SWS attack cruiser blew up and now there were only five heavy cruisers left. How many saucers were gone? Drakos did some counting, coming up with a mere six lost bug ships.

That was good, very good, he decided. The Star Watch battleships, however—

Drakos scowled and pressed a button. “Nar Falcon, why hasn’t a battleship exploded yet?”

“Sir, I sent one dominant. The coordinates must have been incorrect, though. The dominant appeared in space instead of inside a battleship. I am making corrections.”

“The dominant is dead, you mean?”

“He died in space, yes, lord.”

“Nar Falcon, I want no more wastage. Those dominants are worthy warriors. They are not like bullets that one doesn’t care expending. Do I need to make myself more specific?”

“No, lord,” Nar Falcon said. “There will be no more mistakes.”

“For your sake, Nar Falcon, I hope you are right.”

***

In the hangar bay of the Agamemnon, Nar Falcon wiped sweat from his golden forehead.

Another conditioned dominant was up there on the Builder Teleportor. Nar Falcon did not approve of the use of their kind like this. But he was not going to challenge Lord Drakos on the subject. There were few, perhaps no, superiors who could beat Drakos in hand-to-hand duels.

“Ready?” Nar Falcon called.

The chosen dominant raised his glistening golden arms.

“Now,” Nar Falcon said, as he tapped the transmit button.

The shimmering motes encircled the chosen dominant, and in a moment, he teleported away.

-20-

The dominant, a certain Sar Cambyses, crossed the distance to Battleship Goeben, appearing in an annex to the main engine room. He moved like a great jungle cat, peering right and left.

A hatch opened, and an engineer walked in. The subman halted in astonishment.

Cambyses leapt the distance between them, breaking the man’s neck with a hard karate chop. He tore off the subman’s small garments, tried them on and realized it was futile. He picked up a heavy tool, hefting it in his hand. Then he peered out of the hatch at seven submen working on various panels.

A voice in his head beat like a battle drum. He needed to attack. Opening his mouth, issuing a silent roar, Cambyses burst out of the annex, his naked feet padding on the deck.

One of the nearest submen turned around. Cambyses swung the heavy tool, opening the skull with a terrific blow, causing the subman to flop onto the deck. The others looked to see what happened.

Now, Cambyses shouted. It was a terrible sound, and it had the planned effect. For a second, maybe two, the submen froze in shock and horror. During that time, Cambyses slaughtered four of them, bashing their heads.

Two of the remaining submen finally charged him. Cambyses grinned crazily. His expression froze one of the attackers; such was the monstrous countenance of the naked stranger. The other kept attacking, dying as the tool opened his skull. Cambyses swept forward, killing the second-to-last subman.

The last of them was at a wall comm unit, shouting about a naked New Man in the engine area.

Cambyses flung the heavy tool, and it thudded against the subman’s head, killing him so he slid to the floor.

A klaxon began to wail.

Cambyses turned, searching, studying—he bounded like a demon-possessed madman. He slipped through an opened hatch, entering the engine core area. He reached a special emergency panel, his golden-skinned fingers manipulating the board.

“Self-destruct sequence initiated,” a computer said.

Cambyses brayed laughter. The submen with their special codes—but they didn’t realize how easy the codes were to overcome.

“Three, two, one,” the computer said. “Zero. Ignition—”

Battleship Goeben’s engine core exploded, the annihilating fury blasting outward, consuming core rods, antimatter compartment blocks and then entire engineering sections. The fiery holocaust devoured steel, carbon, flesh, water—it blasted up through decks, knocking down bulkheads and igniting disruptor coils, electromagnetic generators—the sun-like heat made paper and other combustibles roar into flame microseconds before the continuing fury expanded outward until the entire crew perished and the blast roared through the heavy armor, causing the battleship to disappear in a horrible cauldron of destruction.

The first kill of the Battle of the Gomez System to the Builder Teleportor and its New Man destroyer had occurred.

***

The exploding Goeben shocked Admiral Byron and the battleship captains. It shocked the bridge crews as well. What had caused the startling loss?

Fortunately, the Goeben had been the front-most battleship, leading at twice the distance as regular battle protocol dictated. That had been at the express orders of the admiral. Byron had come to espouse a doctrine for wider ship dispersal so an exploding neighbor didn’t destroy other vessels in a squadron or flotilla.

The explosion turned the nearest battleship shields a cherry red. These were upgraded shields, however, using parts made from heavy metal material.

The new heavy metal made a difference; a huge one, it turned out.

Then, a second battleship exploded just like the Goeben, again, for no explainable reason.

It caused Admiral Byron to sag in his command chair on the Kaiser Wilhelm. This was too much. This was unbelievable. This wasn’t how fleet battles were supposed to take place. Why he had ever let the Lord High Admiral talk him into taking the post he would never know.

“Admiral,” Captain Austin said. “Admiral, what should we do now? Should we continue advancing?”

Admiral Byron wasn’t responding. This was just too damn much for a man to take.

-21-

“I have it, sir,” Galyan said on Victory’s bridge. “I know what is happening.”

“So do I,” Maddox said. “Drakos got ahold of a teleporting machine. Remember what happened at the—”

“Yes,” Galyan said, interrupting. “I have also played back the last message from the Goeben. The captain said a New Man was in the engine room. Then, the battleship exploded. We must assume that happened on the second ship as well.”

Maddox swiveled around. “Lieutenant, send a wide-beam message to the other battleship captains. Tell them to put armed Space Marines in the engine sections. Tell them to expect naked, suicidal New Men appearing.”

“I can’t send that,” Valerie said.

“Now,” Maddox said sternly.

Valerie began speaking, sending the message.

“That will take too long,” Galyan said. “I must do this myself.” Thereupon, the holoimage disappeared—to appear on one battleship engine room after another. He used the far-ranging power of his holographic imager aboard Victory.

“Oh,” Galyan said.

He saw a New Man racing through the engine core section of Battleship Frederick. Engineers lay dead on the deck.

Galyan reappeared beside the New Man. The half-insane soldier used a tool, swinging it through the holoimage. That caused the New Man to lose his balance for a moment. He recovered, but stumbled through Galyan.

The little Adok holoimage frowned, and he used a rebuilt feature, one that hadn’t been used for some time. A power source on Victory sent a great surge of energy to the holoimage, which flowed outward, striking the New Man.

The surge wasn’t as strong as Galyan had used in the past, but was enough to knock the New Man to the deck. The problem was, Galyan’s unit back aboard Victory needed time to recharge. What do to until then?

Galyan reappeared on the Frederick’s bridge. The bridge crew and captain leaped to their feet, shouting.

“I am Driving Force Galyan from Starship Victory. I have rendered a naked New Man unconscious in your main engine area, 511-B. Before he revives, you must send Space Marines to capture him. The New Man is attempting to detonate your antimatter core.”

With that, Galyan vanished, continuing his search from battleship to battleship. He found another New Man, and floated toward him, shouting.

The just-appearing New Man halted in shock. The engineers in the chamber whirled around to witness the event.

The New Man swung at Galyan, his fist passing through harmlessly. Galyan attempted another surge of power, but nothing happened. The unit on Victory hadn’t recharged yet.

Galyan turned. “He is here to explode the antimatter core. Kill him before he kills all of you.”

The New Man glared at Galyan, and then charged the engineers. One of them, First Cadet Charles Danforth from destroyed Tau Ceti II, wore a sidearm. He had washed out of training several years ago when he’d tried to join the Marines, and still had martial dreams of becoming a combat hero. The others often chided him about them.

Now, he drew his needler and fired. Thirteen tiny slivers entered the New Man’s chest, four of them reaching his racing heart.

The New Man staggered. Charles Danforth steadied his shaking gun-hand and fired again, this time into the naked madman’s face, killing the New Man and saving the battleship and crew from destruction and death.

Galyan had already disappeared, continuing his search for teleported New Men.

-22-

Aboard the Agamemnon, Drakos pressed the comm control of his command chair.

“Nar Falcon, you destroyed two battleships. More should be detonating. Is everything well?”

“Lord, I have sent others,” Nar Falcon said. “I have more to send. I have no idea why the other battleships haven’t detonated.”

Drakos scowled. Could the submen have reacted to his tactic so quickly? It didn’t seem possible. He should be wiping out the battleships. He had counted on the Builder Teleportor to take out at least half of the heaviest Star Watch vessels.

Drakos rubbed his fingers together. Should he call Nar Falcon again? That might show worry, but wouldn’t it be better to get to the bottom of this?

“Nar Falcon,” Drakos said. “Send two dominants at a time.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Nar Falcon replied, “I hear your words and am ready to obey, lord. But we only have a limited supply of volunteers.”

“Send two,” Drakos said, his voice hardening. “We need kills, not near misses. This is the moment. We must shatter their morale. The rest will follow. If they see more battleships blow up, the battle is ours.”

“I obey, lord,” Nar Falcon said.

“You’d better,” Drakos mumbled to himself.

On the main screen, the bug squadrons continued to accelerate. Drakos’s twelve star cruisers were catching up fast, straining to join the fray to help the attack saucers. Now would have been a good time to throw three Juggernauts into the battle.

The signals operator had still failed to reach the last Juggernaut, which continued to maneuver the phantom fleet.

The last SWS cruiser had exploded. The monitors had braked their initial velocity and direction and were now heading at the much larger bug fleet. There were only ten monitors. But they were not like cruisers, which were meant as maneuver vessels. A monitor’s function was to slug it out in a line of battle contest. They had been made for this. Their shields were powerful and the hull armor among the best in a non-battleship vessel.

From the monitors’ one flank and still well behind raced thirteen Bismarck-class battleships, warships augmented with the latest heavy metal upgrades, and Starship Victory, the deadliest vessel in Star Watch. Seventeen Throne World star cruisers raced up from the other flank.

That made forty-one ships against one hundred and twenty-five attack saucers, with twelve enemy star cruisers rushing up to help. But it was forty-one heavy ships, forty-one killers against one hundred and twenty-five bug vessels that hadn’t had a complete overhaul since the war many years ago. Many of the attack saucers had overheated and nearly burned-out laser equipment from firing for so long already. Yet, the bugs had slaughtered thirty-three lesser capital ships and all the strikefighters, fold-fighters, escorts and destroyers.

The time of maneuvering for better position was over. Now, the slugging, the pounding, the dishing out and absorbing was about to start. Would the much-greater numbers tell against the bigger, heavier, tougher and so-far-untested warships spoiling to rip out the enemy’s combined throat?

-23-

If the three Juggernauts had still been intact and leading the charge, absorbing the monitors’ beams, the battle might have gone differently. If the Builder Teleportor had allowed more New Men to detonate more battleship engine cores, the contest would have gone completely differently.

But “if” had no meaning in war. All that mattered was “is.”

The monitors were heavy sluggers, and it showed quickly. The attack saucers used their usual gang-up tactic, only more so. Ten saucers concentrated on one monitor. The monitor shields turned red, brown and a few of them black. Those round heavy bull-baiters kept absorbing enemy laser beams, though. It was a thing to witness. As they did, the monitors lashed back with disrupter beams.

The first attack saucer fell to one monitor salvo. Then, five more exploded in quick succession.

At that point, concentrated laser fire smashed a monitor shield and started on that heavy hull armor. These battle-barge monitors did not go down easily.

Lasers coils in some attack saucers burned out. Vents burst, spilling acid everywhere, killing the engineer bugs in them. The continuous heavy laser beam fire from the bug fleet started to slacken.

A monitor finally blew up, though. It had taken far longer than anyone had anticipated. Then, a second one exploded, and more might have started to die.

But finally, oh finally, the long-range heavy disrupter beams from the Bismarck-class battleships lashed out. Joining them was Victory’s disrupter beam.

At Captain Maddox’s suggestion, Admiral Byron aboard the flagship ordered the battleships to concentrate on one attack saucer at a time.

That meant fourteen terrible annihilating beams reached out from a tremendous distance and struck one pitiful straining attack saucer. That saucer lasted mere seconds. Its shield went down, and its armor was a pathetic joke to these hoary beams. The saucer might as well have had no hull armor. The bug ship ignited and blasted apart.

By that time, the fourteen heavy beams, guided by Galyan’s targeting, struck another poor bastard of an attack saucer.

For a short time, attack saucers blew up one after another in what seemed a never-ending succession of deaths. It was wonderful. It was glorious—to the Star Watch crews. How horrible, how agonizing—to Supremacy Thrax Ti Ix and his bug controllers.

What helped in this annihilation were Ural’s seventeen star cruisers using the cone of battle. The ships used a circular formation, overlapping shields. Then, they fired their disrupters in a joint beam that had the same effect as the Star Watch battleships.

Did the Star Watch crews try to show the New Man crews how much more destructive they were? And did the other side try to do the same thing?

Supremacy Thrax’s bug fleet was disappearing in explosion after explosion.

“Hang on,” Drakos told Thrax. “My ships are joining yours.”

The twelve star cruisers started firing. They did not use a cone of battle, but fired as individual ships. Was that upsetting to some of Drakos’s captains?

Golden Ural broadcast to everyone who would listen. “This is the Throne World Emperor’s cousin and representative. Lord Drakos is an outlaw. He is declared anathema to superior society. He faces death by torture, administered by the Emperor’s killer. All who knowingly aid Lord Drakos from this moment forward will face a similar fate.

“However,” Ural said, holding up a hand and an index finger. “There is a way to return to the Emperor’s good graces. You must act immediately, targeting the bug saucers. Help us destroy the Swarm creatures, vile things that desire to kill all life but their own, and the Emperor will grant you a full pardon for aiding the criminal Drakos. I speak these words, Golden Ural, who is known for keeping his word. Act now, before you disgrace yourselves further by aiding bugs.”

Ural said the last word with extreme disgust.

Drakos listened to the message with horror from his command chair on the Agamemnon.

Byron kept blinking on the Kaiser Wilhelm.

Thrax was too busy shaking his pincers, cursing the day he listened to the golden-skinned devil named Drakos. He should have slain the mammal the first time.

Ural sat back on his chair in the Boreas, stroking his chin, quite sure his cleverness would bring a quick response, silently laying three-to-one odds on it.

On Victory, Maddox waited, knowing this was critical. Beside him, Galyan smiled, glad that his quick thinking had saved the battleships and thus the fleet. Captain Maddox had already told him so.

Then, on many main screens, witnessed by many crews, first one and then another hardliner star cruiser stabbed Thrax’s attack saucers in the back. Finally, ten of the twelve did so.

That was when the real slaughter started.

-24-

No bug attack-saucer survived the Battle of Gomez System. No one ever found the body of former Commander Thrax Ti Ix. He was dead, burned to a crisp during the final cauldron set-piece when every bug vessel turned on their traitorous allies, trying to kill them for their perfidy.

Surprisingly, Drakos lived through the fight. The Agamemnon sustained heavy damage. The hangar bay holding the Builder Teleportor ignited with everything in it, including Nar Falcon. The wonderful piece of Builder equipment…no one knew yet if it had withstood the repeated blasts that had destroyed everything else in there.

Seven of Drakos’s twelve star cruisers survived the battle, including his damaged Agamemnon. Drakos had fallen unconscious due to an explosion and fire on the bridge that killed half of his bridge personnel.

Claiming the right to board the disabled Agamemnon almost caused the victorious allies to break out in battle against each other.

Golden Ural retained sixteen of his seventeen star cruisers. Of all the combatants, his flotilla sustained the least damage. With those sixteen star cruisers were four of Drakos’s former ships still able to move and fight. Their captains had already spoken to Ural via comm and sworn the Emperor fealty as newly proclaimed softliners. They therefore augmented his warships, giving him twenty deadly craft.

Four monitors were left of the Patrol Fleet, one heavy cruiser, it turned out, two attack cruisers that had pretended to sustain damage and two destroyers. Combined with eleven battleships and Victory, that gave Admiral Byron twenty-one warships of varying types. Since the majority was battleships, Byron felt himself at least on equal terms with Ural. How times had changed since the initial New Men invasion of “C” Quadrant.

Amidst the debris of a slaughtered bug saucer fleet and other sundry vessels, the two allies began to position themselves against each other as they circled the badly damaged Agamemnon.

From Victory, Maddox spoke to Byron via screen. “Admiral, I commend you on gaining a hard-won victory.”

“Too hard-won,” Byron said listlessly from his command chair. “Cook said I must smash the enemy.”

“You did.”

“And without taking heavy damage to the Patrol Fleet,” Byron finished.

“The bug saucers are effectively gone,” Maddox said. “All that needs doing is demolishing their colony world.”

“That’s a big project, as it means heading out deep into the Beyond.”

“Half full or half empty,” Maddox said. “The choice is yours.”

Byron brooded, finally shaking his head. “I’m exhausted, Captain. I’m broken inside. I’m appalled by the carnage today. I so wanted to bring the Lord High Admiral a nearly unscratched fleet back home. I have failed.”

Maddox shifted on his chair. “Sir, with your permission, I could speak to Golden Ural for you and see if we can avoid a shooting match between us.”

“I don’t intend to fire on the New Men.”

“The Agamemnon—”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Byron said, interrupting. “I just want to return what’s left of my command back home. The destruction today—”

“Sir,” Maddox said, interrupting. “There is still the matter of the last Juggernaut. Perhaps I could acquire it for you, and you could present it to the Lord High Admiral.”

“What’s one Juggernaut?”

“Another super-heavy ship that could help Star Watch’s regain its power,” Maddox said.

Byron exhaled. “I’m too tired for this, Captain.”

“I could speak to Golden Ural for you,” Maddox said in an offhanded manner.

“Why would you do this?” asked Byron.

“Someone has to. Why not me?”

Byron exhaled again. “You have ulterior motives. But since your robot saved my battleships from New Men kamikazes, why not? Go speak to Ural. See what you can salvage for Star Watch.”

-25-

Before calling, Maddox maneuvered Victory nearer the drifting Agamemnon. Three of the least-damaged battleships followed close behind.

“Sir,” Galyan said. “Several New Men shuttles are headed for the Agamemnon.”

Maddox twisted his head, listening to neck bones pop. He didn’t feel tired. He didn’t feel pent up with emotion. He felt…if not serene, then ready for the fight of his life. It was strange how calm he had become, even without resorting to the meditation.

He was not sure he would use it ever again. It had helped him settle himself with his newfound energy and internal zeal. But now that he was settled—

“Warm up the neutron cannon,” Maddox told Galyan.

Everyone on the bridge turned to look at him.

Maddox examined the fingernails of his right hand. “Is the cannon online yet and targeted on a shuttle?” he asked.

“Working, sir,” Galyan said, with his eyelids fluttering. “There. It is ready. May I ask you a question, sir?”

“You’ve earned the right,” Maddox said. “Go ahead.”

“Why did you let Admiral Byron call me a robot? I am a deified holoimage.”

“I know that,” Maddox said. “We know that. If Byron is so tired as to make that kind of error—” Maddox shrugged. “He would have been too tired to make a mental note of the correction.”

“I see,” Galyan said.

“Sir,” Valerie said from her station. “Golden Ural is hailing us.”

“Put him on the main screen.”

A moment later, the tallest of New Men stared languidly at Maddox. “You’ve targeted several of my shuttles. Is there a reason for that?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Maddox said lightly. “I’m intending to destroy them as punishment for boarding Star Watch property. Why, do you have a problem with that?”

“You will be declaring war against the Throne World if you fire.”

“I’ll repeat myself so you can understand me. They are attempting to board Commonwealth property. I am sworn to defend Commonwealth property. If that means starting a shooting war—so be it.”

“Shall we dispense with the chicanery?” asked Ural.

“If the shuttles alter course and go elsewhere, I would be happy to oblige you.”

“A moment then,” Ural said.

“Sir,” Galyan said. “The shuttles are altering course.”

Maddox could see that on the main screen, but made no comment.

“Satisfied?” asked Ural, who had reappeared on the screen.

“Yes.”

Ural sat straighter. “I claim the Agamemnon for the Throne World. It is a star cruiser, and I do not feel like letting Star Watch have one.”

“Interesting,” Maddox said. “I claim the Agamemnon, having won it by right of combat and suffering.”

“Tell me, how may we avoid a shooting war?” Ural asked.

“You know about the Builder Teleportor, I presume?”

“Naturally,” Ural said. “My sensor operator tells me it’s intact.”

“I assume you desire the teleportor.”

“Hmmm, yes, I do,” Ural said

“Me too,” Maddox said.

“What would you take in exchange for the teleportor?”

“Rights to the last Juggernaut,” Maddox said crisply, “and a live Lord Drakos in my custody and the right to go to the bug colony world and destroy it.”

“You mean study the bug colony world and see what you can glean from it,” Ural said.

“I stand by my words, sir.”

Ural cocked his head, studying Maddox. Finally, the New Man leaned forward. “Captain, I would like to speak to you in person, just you and me. Then, I will discuss terms for the teleporting platform.”

“Granted,” Maddox said. “Where would you like to meet?”

***

Two shuttles went down to the second terrestrial planet. The rocky surface was nearly devoid of atmosphere.

Ahead of them, an auto-packet dropped, landing on a flat rocky area. The packet hissed as it unfolded, revealing a plastic tent with two airlocks. Galyan went down and inspected the tent. Satisfied, he went back to Victory declaring it safe. There were no listening devices or other tricks there.

In time, one tall, space-suited individual left each landed shuttle. The two walked easily enough. Finally, the two entered the tent, one from each side. Each of them went through an airlock, entering into the center of the spacious tent. The shorter of the two unlocked his space helmet as the taller did the same. Each removed his helmet at almost the same instant.

Captain Maddox stared into the eyes of Golden Ural. The New Man was taller by a head, and his eyes seemed to glitter with intensity. For once, though, the captain did not feel even slightly intimidated by a New Man. Perhaps, with his new energy, he would be the equal to one in a physical fight.

“I’ve come here, for what purpose, I have no idea,” Maddox said. “I don’t know if it’s to stop a war or scratch a whim you have.”

“You have come in order to learn who you really are,” Ural said cryptically.

“Oh, is that all?” Maddox asked, an internal seething beginning in his body.

A crooked smile twisted onto Ural’s face. “We know you, Captain. Our Intelligence service is the best in the galaxy. I run it, in fact.”

“This I did not know. Have you always run it?”

“Only for the last several years,” Ural said.

“I see. You have Vint Diem then?”

“Who?”

Maddox frowned. “You won’t admit to it, eh?”

“I am being candid with you, Captain. I have never heard of this Vint Diem.”

“Let me refresh your memory then,” Maddox said. “A disguised New Man, the chief spy of the Emperor, gave me information about Drakos seeking Thrax in exchange for Vint Diem. The ex-Spacer was Drakos’s chief operative on Pandora in the Vega System. The Emperor’s spy and I spoke in the Carlota Casino. Does that ring a bell?”

Ural stared at Maddox. “I run the Throne World Intelligence network. Here, in this tent, I am being candid with you, Captain. I’m about to prove that to your satisfaction. This New Man, this so-called spy, tricked you. He did not work for me, the Emperor or the Throne World, although his information concerning Drakos proved correct. I suggest to you that there was another player in the Great Game using the New Man for his or her own purposes. That would include gaining this Vint Diem. Why that was so, I have no idea.”

Maddox was beginning to believe the tall New Man. But wouldn’t the Throne World’s Intelligence chief know about Drakos’s prime operative on Pandora? This wasn’t making sense, or Ural was lying.

“Let us return to the primary issue for being here,” Ural said. “I know who you are.”

“Fine,” Maddox said, shelving the subject of Vint Diem for the moment. “You know me.” He shrugged. “So what? I thought we came down to make a deal concerning Drakos and the teleportor.”

“We did,” Ural said. “I’m also going to give you what you want more than anything else.”

Despite everything, Maddox’s heart began to race. He thought he knew how to be calm. He did not. “Are you…?” he said in a husky voice.

“Am I referring to your father?” Ural asked. “Yes. That I am.”

“It’s you?” Maddox asked, involuntarily taking a step closer, his gloved fingers stiffening into claws, as it were.

“Alas, I am not,” Ural said.

Maddox stopped, and he frowned, confused. “It’s not you?”

Ural shook his head.

“Is it Drakos?” Maddox asked.

“The Forces preserve us,” Ural said. “That is a frightful thought. No. He is not your father.”

“But you know my father?”

“Very well,” Ural said.

Maddox breathed faster. Sweat stung his eyes. He wiped at his eyes savagely. He suddenly wanted to rip out Ural’s throat. The gloating bastard—

“Why?” asked Maddox, his voice hoarse. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Admiration,” Ural said.

Maddox scowled, not understanding.

“You have overcome unbelievable disadvantages,” Ural said. “You have given of yourself to your people, and you’ve learned how to bounce back. You did well in stopping Drakos’s teleportation kamikaze assault, and—I like your style, Maddox. It reminds me of your father.”

Maddox took three wooden steps closer to Ural. There was murder raging in his eyes as his heart thudded like drum beats in his chest. This arrogant son of a bitch—

A knife appeared in Ural’s right hand.

Maddox stopped short. “Do you think I care if I die down here?”

“Do you want to die?” Ural asked, as if curious.

“If I can slay anyone who hurt my mother, or who helped someone hurt my mother, I would gladly die a thousand times.”

“A noble sentiment,” Ural said. “But it has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re lying,” Maddox said with heat.

Ural’s eyes glittered strangely, and his smile became sinister. “Your father helped your mother escape the Throne World. He fought and killed fellow superiors to do it. He stayed behind while she ran ahead, escaping into a ship. Your father slew seven superiors until others killed him. By then, it was too late. Your mother had fled, with you in her belly.”

“That’s a lie,” Maddox hissed.

“I do not lie,” Ural said.

Maddox glared at the New Man. “Why would my father do that for her?”

“For the best of reasons,” Ural said. “He loved her more than life.”

“No!” Maddox shouted.

“Oh, yes,” Ural said. “Your father loved your mother, Sandra O’Hara.”

“O’Hara?” asked Maddox. “Is that any relation to Mary O’Hara?”

“Of course,” Ural said. “Sandra was her daughter.”

Maddox blinked until he rubbed tears welling in his eyes. “Mary O’Hara is my grandmother?”

Ural nodded.

Maddox looked away. That made so much sense. Mary O’Hara was his grandmother. He laughed, because if he hadn’t, he would have sobbed aloud. That, he would not do in the presence of Golden Ural.

Finally, the captain faced Ural again. The New Man no longer held the knife. It was gone. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you look so much like your father,” Ural said, and there was emotion in his voice.

The sound of the emotion shocked Maddox.

“Your father was the most noble of us,” Ural said. “He was the best. I should have listened to him. I did not. But I will help his son. I must. My regret boils in me and has boiled in me for a long time.”

“Why?” asked Maddox.

“Because your father was my brother,” Ural said.

Maddox stared at Ural. This was too much. It was coming too fast. “Your brother?” he whispered.

“You are my nephew,” Ural said. “And I will tell you honestly. It’s the only way I know how to say it. I am proud of you, nephew. You would have made your father proud, so proud, so very proud. You are a man, my nephew, a superior in every way. It is an honor to have fought with you, Captain. And that is what and why I am here.”

Maddox swallowed a hard lump down his throat. He refused to shed a tear, but he could not speak right now. At last, to find out his father had been a good man. His father had fought and died to save his mother, to give him a chance to live.

Finally, Maddox found his voice. “Why did these others want to kill my mother?”

“I have never learned, but I have tried, and I will continue to try. It is one of the reasons I agreed to run Intelligence. I desire to know and to hunt down those who remain.”

“Does Drakos have anything to do with them?”

Ural shook his head.

“You are my uncle?” Maddox asked.

Ural nodded, and he smiled.

Maddox could hardly believe it. His feet moved on their own accord. He held out his right hand, wanting to and willing to shake a New Man’s hand.

Ural slapped the hand aside and lunged forward, hugging Captain Maddox and slapping him hard on the back. Then, Ural released the captain and pushed him away. The tallest of New Men turned away, and he reached up to one of his eyes, wiping it with a gloved finger.

When Ural faced him again, Maddox said, “Thank you, Uncle. I appreciate that you would tell me these things.”

“I had to, Captain. You deserved it. You are a credit to your mother and father.”

“I need Drakos so I can help clear my grandmother.”

“You can have him,” Ural said. “I will take the teleportor and the Agamemnon. I must also take the Juggernaut.”

“Earth needs the Juggernaut. I’ll give you the colony world instead, together with the Agamemnon.”

Ural stared at him. “I’ll destroy the bugs for both our societies. Yes. You can have the Juggernaut. The Throne World has come out better from this campaign than Star Watch.”

“True,” Maddox said.

Ural smiled once more and nodded.

Maddox smiled back, also nodding. Then, the two men took their leave as they donned their helmets. Each left the tent and headed to his shuttle, the respective vehicles racing up to their waiting starships.

PART VI

END GAME

-1-

Lord Drakos groaned. He felt awful, and he could not understand why. There was something that needed doing…but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Hadn’t he been in the midst of battle? He—

Drakos groaned, wondering why he couldn’t open his eyes. Something was wrong. He knew it, but why, how, what?

“Focus,” Drakos whispered to himself, with his eyes closed.

He did just that, and he was a superior. Yes. He was shorter than average. His skin lacked the rich golden color of most superiors. But that didn’t matter. He had willpower. He had willpower in spades, greater than any superior alive. He would shape reality through his unconquerable will. He would refuse defeat. There would be setbacks, obviously. That was a principle of life. One couldn’t win every encounter. But what did he take away from a defeat? Ah…therein lay one of his true powers. Drakos would learn from his defeats. He would plan better next time. He would take his time, too, and build a web to trap his most hated, most hated…

“Golden Ural,” Drakos whispered, with his eyes yet shut. He hated that smug, tall, richly golden superior. Ural was the Emperor’s cousin, could someday be Emperor if events moved in the wrong direction.

“I won’t let that happen,” Drakos whispered.

That brought him back to this odd dilemma. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he open his eyes? There was a reason. He knew there was.

“I was fighting a battle,” Drakos said. “I must open my eyes and fix the—”

Through sheer force of will, Drakos tore his eyelids open. For a moment, colors and textures swirled before him. It was quite odd and nearly inexplicable. The colors and textures swirled, rapidly coalescing into the bridge of the Agamemnon.

Much better, much better indeed. Drakos sat on his command chair and his bridge personnel worked furiously.

The main screen, where was it?

As Drakos silently asked himself, the main screen literally appeared. On the main screen—ah, the attack saucers, those of Supremacy Thrax Ti Ix, used massed volleys, sending countless laser beams into the flanks of Bismarck-class battleships. The battleships fought more than just the bug saucers, but traded toe-to-toe beams with three mighty Juggernauts.

Drakos’s proud smile slipped for just a moment. He thought the Juggernauts had exploded from antimatter detonations behind the second planet. Fold-fighter pilots had hammered the Juggernauts while under the influence of Jump Lag. Yet…that didn’t seem possible. The Juggernauts out there—

“Damn it!” Drakos shouted.

Starship Victory swooped as if from out from the void, beaming a Juggernaut. A fold-fighter also appeared, and a brash ace of a pilot shouted, bragging. A missile left the tin can and slammed home against the Juggernaut. The great twenty-kilometer-diameter vessel detonated.

Drakos slammed a fist against a command chair armrest. “I’ve got more Juggernauts, Maddox. You can’t get them all.”

Drakos began issuing orders and directing the fleet. The bugs listened to him, as they should. He was the greatest fleet admiral in history. His tactics proved intricate and just right for the situation. One enemy battleship after another burst apart under intense beam-fire.

One of the bridge’s comm officers was signaling him.

“What?” Drakos demanded.

The officer said Captain Maddox was on the comm, begging to surrender.

“Yes, put Maddox on the screen,” Drakos said.

In an instant, the half-breed’s face appeared on the main screen. The hybrid sat proudly, but Drakos could see the worry lines in the captain’s face. Flames roared behind the man, while the captain manfully tried to ignore them, although he leaned forward as if to get away from the growing heat.

Drakos laughed with appreciation. He had longed for this day, this time, this hour. “Captain Maddox,” he said in a stentorian voice.

“Lord Drakos,” Maddox whispered, the words torn from his half-breed lips. “Please, I beg you, have mercy on my people.”

Drakos sat forward. This was too good, too much, but oh so right. “I won’t accept platitudes, Captain. This is a moment of honesty. You don’t really care about your people. You’re desperate to save your half-breed hide, isn’t that so?”

Maddox hung his head. He probably wasn’t used to such direct truth. It must churn his innards to hear this. The man was such a lickspittle, a cur. He had been a thorn in Drakos’s side for far too long.

“I want to live,” Maddox whispered.

“Speak up, half-breed. I can’t hear you.”

Maddox looked up, and there were tears welling in his eyes. “Please, I want to live.”

“As a slave?” asked Drakos.

“If that is the price of living,” Maddox said, “then yes.”

“You lost the battle.”

Maddox hung his head again.

“I am the greatest,” Drakos boasted. “There is no fleet commander like me.”

That stung the captain so much that he rose from his command chair. “You never would have beaten us without your outside aid.”

Drakos snarled. “You dare to fling that at me? That was part of my greatness. I know how to use spies, how to place them in the perfect location.”

“The commandant at Pluto—”

“Fool,” Drakos boasted, interrupting. “She had nothing to do with it. Don’t you understand what I did, what I purchased?”

Maddox shook his head.

“There was a single latent command in the Lord High Admiral. It was a little thing, put there by one of Lisa Meyers’ androids when she ran the Commonwealth’s Prime Minister. She was cunning, that one. Lisa Meyers knew Star Watch would study the Lord High Admiral carefully indeed and do everything they could to restore his mind to full capacity. They missed the latent command, though. That subconscious command was to try to restore Mary O’Hara to Intelligence. He didn’t need to succeed. He just had to get O’Hara onto the Pluto station.”

“What you’re suggesting is impossible,” Maddox cried. “Neither Lisa Meyers nor you could have achieved such a miracle, plotting more than a year in advance.”

“I’ve won the space battle, haven’t I?”

“Not yet,” Maddox said through gritted teeth.

“You poor pathetic half-breed,” Drakos said.

Maddox stared at him with burning eyes.

Drakos laughed with delight. “I purchased a favor from Lisa Meyers. I did it before the Methuselah Woman left to parts unknown.”

“No,” Maddox said, shaking his head. “You don’t have the coinage she would want.”

“Wrong again, half-breed,” Drakos gloated. “I gave Meyers the frequencies to Mary O’Hara’s mind. I gave the Methuselah Woman my greatest asset in Star Watch, won through my Bosk Draegars.”

“Then, who sent you the message from Pluto?”

Drakos laughed, and he baited the half-breed. “You won’t believe it, so why should I bother telling you?”

“I know why,” Maddox snarled, “because none of it is true.”

“This stings, doesn’t it?” Drakos gloated. “You’re enraged because deep inside you know I’m telling you the truth. On the Pluto station, Mary O’Hara spoke a one-time word to the Lord High Admiral. It was a one-use code word, one deeply embedded in his subconscious. Like a robot, unconsciously obeying the order, Cook sent me the critical message. I suspect this will start a chain-reaction in his mind of guilt and grief. Likely, he will die a raving madman. Good riddance to him anyway.”

“Why would Lisa Meyers give you such a gift?”

“That’s the easiest part of all to explain,” Drakos said. “She’s coming, and soon, I believe. She wants the Commonwealth in disarray so she can remake you submen in her image.”

“And you agreed to that?”

“With this victory, I will soon rule the superiors, the Throne World and all the subsidiary worlds we own now. I will…” Drakos frowned. “You seem far too keen about Pluto, Cook and O’Hara for a mewling coward begging to save his own skin. Why is that?”

Maddox sighed. On the main screen, he appeared tired, very tired. “Go to sleep,” he said.

“What was that?” Drakos demanded, suddenly feeling tired. “What did you say to me?”

“Sleep,” Maddox said. “Go to sleep.”

“No…” Drakos said. “I have the greatest willpower among all superiors and submen. No one can will me to sleep.”

“We shall see,” Maddox said on the main screen. “Go to sleep, now.”

-2-

In an underground chamber below Star Watch Headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland, was a squat stand. On the stand was a heavy polygonal Builder stone, and it was radiating heat. Maddox, Ludendorff and Draegars from Bosk had used the stone before. Maddox had acquired it in the Beyond some time ago from a former Builder depot, a hidden asteroid. High Command had given Maddox the okay to use the stone here, agreeing this was the best way to interrogate their prisoner, Lord Drakos.

The stone had unique functions, including allowing minds to connect like a wireless, but at a potential terrible cost to the users.

Maddox sat in a chair on one side of the increasingly hot stone. Drakos sat in a chair on the other side. Each man had his eyes screwed shut and obviously strained to open them.

Their minds were connected through the stone. Until handlers had carried an unconscious Drakos into the underground room, he had been in storage in stasis aboard Victory during the journey home to Earth. There had been many debates about how to pry various pieces of knowledge from him. Maddox had hit upon this method, wanting to know how Drakos had learned the Allied Fleet was waiting in the Gomez System for the bugs and hardliners. Intelligence had learned some of this from the other Agamemnon survivors. Only Drakos seemed to know all the facts, though.

In the underground chamber, Meta waited behind Maddox with a fire extinguisher in her hands. If the stone became too hot—and it was reaching that point—it could harm her husband. She had insisted on being ready.

There was more than one risk in using the unpredictable Builder stone like this. The chief was that the man with greater willpower or greater understanding of the stone could mentally defeat the other, possibly reading his thoughts or if he knew enough, reprogramming the defeated one’s mind. Maddox, with his newfound energy together with his experience and understanding of the stone, was certain he could trick and defeat, if need be, the arrogant Lord Drakos.

Meta could hear their increased breathing. She fingered the fire-extinguisher trigger. Riker and several Space Marines waited outside the room, watching through a two-way mirror. The newly promoted Brigadier Stokes of Star Watch Intelligence watched with them.

On the chairs, Maddox and Drakos began to twitch. Each had his eyes closed, yet it seemed as if each glared at the other. Drakos began to grind his molars. Maddox breathed heavily, like a bull about to charge.

“No!” Drakos shouted, and his eyes flew open.

Maddox swore, and his eyes opened as well.

This was unprecedented. Meta aimed her extinguisher at the heat-radiating Builder stone, pulling the trigger. Foam gushed from the device, striking the hot stone, trying to bring down its temperature and thus cutting the mental connection between the two.

The two men grunted as if someone had hit each of them in the stomach.

“Where am I?” Drakos slurred afterward. “What is this place?”

Maddox didn’t answer but struggled upright until he swayed on his feet.

“No, you don’t,” Drakos said, surging up in a single thrust of willpower.

“Leave us,” Maddox panted at Meta.

Drakos blinked rapidly and then rubbed his forehead. He was frowning mightily.

Meta stood indecisively with the empty fire extinguisher in her hands.

“Phantoms,” Drakos said with understanding. “You put phantoms in my mind.” The broad-shouldered New Man looked at the Builder stone. “Ah, you used that thing against me, didn’t you?”

Maddox had not spoken since giving Meta an order, although he glared at Drakos.

“Yes, I perceive now,” Drakos said, with the phenomenally quick understanding that New Men often showed. “I lost the space battle in the Gomez System. You captured me and brought me to Earth for interrogation, didn’t you?”

Maddox just glared, exhausted by using the Builder stone and web he’d woven in the New Man’s mind. That had been harder than he’d realized.

A terrible smile stretched across Drakos’s face. “I’m going to kill you, half-breed. No one uses me like that.” Drakos lurched around the stone, obviously headed toward Maddox.

Meta shouted, swinging the fire extinguisher at the New Man’s head.

Drakos dodged out of the extinguisher’s way, grabbing and ripping it from Meta’s grasp.

She screamed, launching herself at him. With the extinguisher, Drakos struck her, knocking Meta unconscious onto the floor.

Maddox roared, and he finally moved, charging the New Man. Drakos smiled evilly, and maybe he would have smashed Maddox as he’d just done to the captain’s wife.

The hatch opened. Riker stepped inside, and he raised a weapon, pulling the trigger six times. Each pull caused a deafening roar as the gun bucked in the sergeant’s hand. The slugs tore into the New Man, killing Drakos as he crashed upon the deck.

Maddox halted, stunned. Meta groaned from on the floor.

Riker dropped the handgun and Space Marines surrounded him, aiming stunners at him.

“You were—” Maddox said, unable to finish the thought.

The Space Marine lieutenant in charge said to Riker, “You were supposed to have a stunner.”

“Oh,” Riker said. “My mistake.” He looked down at Drakos. “Too bad, I guess.”

Maddox did not hear more. He was on his knees, cradling Meta’s head. There was a great lump on it already.

“Don’t get up,” Maddox told her.

“He knocked me a good one,” Meta said, “but I’ll be all right. I’m tougher than that.”

Maddox nodded, glad the bastard hadn’t slain his wife. He looked up at Riker. “Why did you kill him?”

“He’s too dangerous,” Riker said. “He would have killed you if I hadn’t.”

Maddox eyed the sergeant carefully.

“Did you learn what you needed from him?” asked Riker.

Maddox thought about that, saying, “Maybe.”

-3-

And there everything might have ended, with Maddox recounting what he’d learned from Drakos through the Builder stone. Naturally, the Lord High Admiral would have to resign, and the Iron Lady would never regain trusted status again.

Something didn’t sit right with Maddox, and that something was Riker’s murderous action. The sergeant certainly would attempt to protect him, but Riker had often used a stunner. Why had Riker switched to a handgun and lied about it or deceived the Space Marines? During questioning later, Riker said he couldn’t remember switching weapons, and the lie detector suggested he told what he considered the truth.

That started Maddox thinking even more deeply.

During the journey back from the Gomez System, through “C” Quadrant and then to Earth, everyone had seemed to be themselves.

Admiral Byron was on administrative leave as the Admiralty Board studied his actions up to and including the Battle of the Gomez System. Cook was on sick leave, depressed at the battle losses the Patrol Fleet had sustained. Ludendorff was free and had already left, declaring he was going to the Brahma System to find Dana. There was no report from the Throne World that Ural had gone to the Swarm colony world, but the commandant on Pluto was keeping watch of the Mira Binary System with the Builder Scanner.

Why had Riker killed Drakos?

Maddox brooded over that as he went to the prison island his grandmother had escaped. He walked the trails she had walked but could discover nothing to give him a clue as to the so-called voices in her head.

Brigadier Stokes of Intelligence wasn’t going to let the captain use the Builder stone again to test Mary O’Hara. Cook had given his permission earlier to use the stone, but after Drakos’s confession, no one was going to let the Lord High Admiral make such a decision again.

Maddox had told Stokes what Drakos had confessed about Meyers, Cook and O’Hara. At the time, it had all seemed plausible. Now, thinking about it more…

Several days later, Maddox returned to the prison island in the Pacific. He walked the jungle pathways. He ran for a time until the sweat poured from him. He didn’t stop. Physical activity like this often helped subconscious thoughts bubble up to his conscious mind. He ran until he panted, until his thighs quivered. He ran—

“Sir, this is too much.”

Maddox halted much more slowly than usual because he was exhausted. A small Adok holoimage stood before him. The captain blinked stinging sweat out of his eyes. He put his hands on his knees and breathed in and out, trying to slow his tripping heart.

“You cannot solve every mystery, sir,” Galyan said, who had been watching the captain from Victory in orbit.

Maddox shook his head.

“You disagree with me, sir?”

“Right,” Maddox panted.

“You think you can solve all mysteries?”

“I’m going to clear my grandmother. I’m going to clear the Lord High Admiral, too.”

“You’ve already branded them traitors, sir, even if they’re involuntary traitors.”

“Watch your mouth, Galyan.”

“I am sorry, sir. I do not mean to cause you any anguish. You of all people have—”

“Listen to me, Galyan” Maddox said, interrupting. “Stokes had the logs checked, the one of the long-range Builder comm device on Pluto. Every call was accounted for. That means Cook couldn’t have used the device to speak to Drakos.”

“I could alter such logs, sir. Surely, the Lord High Admiral could have altered them as well.”

“Maybe,” Maddox said, finally starting to breathe normally. “Maybe there was another method.”

“We would have to know it, sir.”

“I know how—” Maddox shook his head. He did not like explaining himself to anyone. “How do you account for Riker slaying Drakos?”

“The sergeant got carried away. That happens sometime.”

“Uh-huh, and how many times has that happened to Sergeant Riker?”

Galyan nodded. “You make a cogent point, sir. Yet, the truth—”

“No,” Maddox whispered, cutting Galyan off. He turned away, his eyes shining. Why hadn’t he seen this sooner? He faced Galyan. “Do you recall that Drakos said he made a deal with Lisa Meyers?”

“Are you referring to your testimony of what you learned from Drakos with the Builder stone?”

“That’s right. How did Drakos communicate with Meyers? When were they ever together?”

“I do not know. By your stance, I am assuming you do, though.”

“There was a possible intermediary between them. Golden Ural gave me the clue when I spoke to him on the second planet of the Gomez System. He told me a few things down there…”

“You have grown strangely quiet, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox swore softly to himself. Then, he lowered his head and began to run along a jungle path. He was exhausted, but he used a new fount of energy that drove his tired legs to the landing area in the middle of the island.

Galyan disappeared, divining the captain’s destination.

Finally, a sweat-drenched Maddox reached his parked flitter. He accepted several water bottles from a waiting attendant. Galyan had gone ahead and spoken to the camp commandant. Maddox guzzled the water, climbing into the flitter afterward and taking off.

Galyan appeared in the front passenger seat.

Maddox was already fiddling with the comm controls. “Get me Stokes,” Maddox told an Intelligence operative. Soon, Brigadier Stokes appeared on a panel screen.

The Brigadier had a goatee these days and was smoking a cigarette. “Captain? My secretary said this was urgent.”

“I’m turning on the scrambler,” Maddox said, flipping a switch. Stokes’s image blurred for a moment.

“Was that really necessary?” asked Stokes.

“Sir, I’d like you to check every security-scan database on Earth. See if you can find a video image of Vint Diem within the last few days.”

“Where have I heard that name before?” Stokes asked.

“He was Drakos’s ex-Spacer agent on Pandora that I gave up in exchange for learning about the hardliner attempt to find Thrax’s colony world.”

“Oh, yes, I remember now. Why should I look for the man? He’s on the Throne World by now in whatever they use for a prison.”

“Golden Ural runs Throne World Intelligence.”

“I’m quite aware of that, Captain. In fact, I knew that before you told us.”

“Right,” Maddox said. “Ural claimed that the New Man operative on Pandora was not a Throne World Intelligence agent.”

“I read your report. I already know all this. Why rehash it now?”

“Sir, if you would check all the planet’s databases, all the camera and video shots from around Earth and see if you could find an image of Vint Diem these past few days—”

“Oh, very well,” Stokes said, interrupting. “I can’t see the utility of such a search. But your views have some weight in these troubled times, and that in high places. I’ll get back to you.”

“I’m heading for Headquarters.”

“Suit yourself,” Stokes said, signing off.

“Do you really think Vint Diem is on Earth?” Galyan asked.

“We should know the answer soon,” Maddox said, who increased speed, as he had a lot of water to cover to reach Europe.

-4-

Many hours later, Maddox landed in Geneva on top of Star Watch Headquarters. He hurried down to a shower, wolfed down a sandwich, drank more water and put on a clean uniform. Then, he passed several security checkpoints after surrendering all weapons.

Finally, Maddox found himself sitting before Brigadier Stokes. The man ran Star Watch Intelligence. Because of that, he’d been jumped up several ranks from lieutenant colonel to brigadier so his rank matched his confirmed position. Stokes and he hadn’t always gotten along. Now that the man officially ran the Intelligence Agency in Mary O’Hara’s place…

Stokes mashed out a cigarette, studying Maddox.

“The goatee suits you,” the captain said. “Makes you look more devilish.”

“How did you know?” Stokes asked sharply.

“If you mean Vint Diem, I didn’t. It was a guess. I must have guessed right, eh?”

Stokes opened a folder on his desk and passed a print to Maddox.

The captain picked it up. The small man on the street could be Vint Diem. He wore a long overcoat with a hat. He was small with narrow shoulders and wore wraparound sunglasses. According to this print, it was nighttime.

Stokes passed Maddox another print.

This was a full facial shot. The man was obviously of Southeast Asian heritage. Most Spacers were. He wore the same sunglasses and had a look of concentration. It was Vint Diem or his double.

“You can skip the others,” Maddox said. “It’s him all right. Was he anywhere Riker could have been before the sergeant killed Drakos?”

Stokes chose one last print and passed it over. It showed Vint Diem sitting in a pub, his small hands at the base of a tall glass of beer. A sign behind him showed it was the Pig & Whistle. That was in Geneva, in the “slum” part of the town. Riker was known to frequent the place.

Maddox looked up at Stokes.

The brigadier shook out a stimstick from a pack, sticking one end between his lips, sucking it to life.

“Don’t get your hopes up about this,” Stokes said. “Vint Diem left Earth a day ago. Oh, we checked the liner. Diem wasn’t on it anymore, but one of the airlocks had an unscheduled opening and there was no video trace of that. There was a sensor trace of a stealth ship leaving the vicinity of the liner.”

“New Man star cruiser?” asked Maddox.

“No,” Stokes said, “but of an unknown stealth type. Star Watch is checking throughout the Solar System. But my bet is that this stealth ship and Vint Diem got away.”

“You really think it was Vint Diem, then?”

Stokes exhaled red smoke from his nostrils, nodding a moment later.

“What does that tell you?” asked Maddox.

“That we have trouble.”

“Why did Diem make sure that Riker shot and killed Drakos?”

“That’s supposition on your part, nothing more.”

“Suppose I’m right, though?”

Stokes nodded. “Maybe Vint Diem wanted Drakos dead because he wanted to hide the Lord High Admiral’s part at Pluto. Maybe this Diem didn’t know you’d already learned about Cook.”

“Maybe,” Maddox said without conviction. “Do you think Diem is acting on his own initiative?”

Stokes took his time answering. “I have no idea. But if Diem does work for Lisa Meyers like I imagine you believe…”

Maddox turned away, staring at a wall. “We stopped the bugs. We stopped Drakos and the New Men hardliners. We’ve learned that Vint Diem was loose on Earth and likely can modify minds. We protected the Commonwealth one more time at least. We’ve also learned that another threat is waiting on the horizon.”

“You personally learned some interesting facts this mission, as well,” Stokes said. “You know your father was a good man, not bad. Mary O’Hara is your grandmother.” Stokes took the prints, placing them back in the folder and shutting it. Looking up, he said, “Why don’t you go spend some time with your grandmother?”

Maddox nodded. “I plan to.”

“Today,” Stokes said. “You don’t know what tomorrow will hold. Tell her you love her. Enjoy her company while you can. Her mind has been compromised by the Draegars, and it appears others know how to tap into whatever the Draegars managed to do, but the higher-ups believe she’s safe in your company—for tonight, at least.”

Maddox exhaled and rose abruptly. “Stokes, you’re not a complete ass after all. I’m going to do all those things. I’m heading to see her right now.”

The captain turned toward the door.

“Maddox,” Stokes said.

The captain faced him again.

“Don’t do anything you shouldn’t,” Stokes said. “It’s my watch now. You’re going to start obeying orders, or you won’t last a second. You got that?”

“See you around, Brigadier,” Maddox said, heading for the door again, leaving it open as he strode down the hall.

-5-

Far away in the Mira Binary System, over three hundred light-years from Earth, Golden Ural led twenty star cruisers past the hot white dwarf, the one feeding off the red giant in the inner system.

The flotilla headed toward the gas giant fifteen AUs away, the one with thirteen moons. Ural was in his wardroom, working on a sketch with names and connecting lines. The names and lines had to do with the hidden murderers of his brother, Captain Maddox’s father.

Ural circled one name in particular. He would have to question this man once he returned to the Throne World. The man—the superior—didn’t interest him so much in solving the reason for his brother’s murder. No. The superior had mentioned Vint Diem to him once, saying the ex-Spacer might prove troublesome. There was something extra…dangerous was the word the superior had used. Imagine a superior saying a renegade Spacer could be dangerous.

Oh, Ural had known about Vint Diem, but not about the exchange with a renegade superior or dominant on Pandora. He’d known the renegade Spacer had run the Pandora payoff, winning billions in the Carlota Casino. He’d even known that Drakos had used the gambler. It would appear that Vint Diem was much more. Had the superior who’d talked Maddox into giving him Vint Diem worked for the renegade Spacer? Had Diem some connection with Lisa Meyers? That hardly seemed likely, and yet, indicators were pointing in that direction.

Ural shrugged. Maddox could deal with Diem. It was possible the captain had already slain the renegade Spacer.

Switching mental gears, Ural wondered if Star Watch would gain too much data from Drakos.

Ural shrugged once again. Star Watch Intelligence had captured superiors before. The Throne World was still intact and unsullied, never having suffered the presence of a subman fleet.

A red light flashed on his desk. Ural tapped a switch.

“Sir,” the bridge officer said on a tiny desk screen. “There’s a new development on the gas giant.”

“Oh?”

“I recommend that you come to the bridge at once, sir.”

“I’m on my way,” Ural said.

***

The development turned out to be the arrival of three Juggernauts. The huge, twenty-kilometer-diameter ex-Rull vessels left the gas giant’s upper atmosphere and headed for its Earth-sized moon.

At the same time, attack saucers rose up from the moon’s thick atmosphere, nine of them, a few more than anticipated.

“Interesting,” Ural said quietly.

“This is a greater force than we imagined they’d have,” the bridge officer said.

Ural nodded. “If the bugs had brought three more Juggernauts along…the Battle of the Gomez System might have gone differently.”

“Commander Thrax was too defensive-minded,” the bridge officer said.

“Not necessarily,” Ural said. “What if we were a raid force and only had nine star cruisers instead of our twenty? The Juggernauts would have proven sufficient to defend the hive. What use to win a war and find your home burned down and everyone slain?”

“Thrax guessed wrong then.”

“Yes,” Ural said. “He most certainly did.” Ural studied the bug fleet for some time, and he wondered if there were hidden surface defensive systems on the moon. This might not be a cakewalk after all. Should he call the Emperor and request more star cruisers? If he did, and waited, would the remaining Swarm bugs flee elsewhere?

Ural drummed his fingers on the arm of his command chair. He was here. He had a strong flotilla. It was time to annihilate the last Swarm invaders and conclude the Imperial Swarm invasions for good.

***

The Juggernauts and attack saucers remained in the moon’s orbit, holding a stationary position over the planetary body.

“We go in,” Ural told his captains. “If we have to dig them out, we dig them out.”

There were disagreements, but Ural enforced his will over the others.

In time, the twenty star cruisers assumed the cone of battle. As the cone approached the Earth-sized moon, missiles roared from a nearby moon. More missiles roared up from the surface of the Earth-sized moon. The combined missiles accelerated at the cone.

Joining the heavy Swarm missiles came the Juggernauts, and behind them, the last attack saucers.

The Juggernauts opened up with heavy laser fire. The beams washed overlapping star cruiser shields, turning them red…brown—

Disruptor beams flashed the distance, concentrating on a single Juggernaut.

It was head-to-head, if at a distance.

A star cruiser’s shield buckled as it went black. That vessel slid away to the rear of the cone of battle, escaping the laser beams that attempted to follow it.

A new star cruiser took that one’s place at the front of the cone. The majority of the disruptor beams continued to drill at the targeted Juggernaut.

Another star cruiser had to retreat to the back of the cone, there to bleed off the terrible energies that had overloaded its shield generators.

That’s when the Juggernaut’s shield buckled. The terrible disrupter beams crashed against the hull armor. They poured it on, and a hull breach occurred.

The Juggernaut trembled, and then it spewed debris and radiation from the breach. Seconds later, the entire giant spaceship exploded. The expanding energy and matter struck a second Juggernaut. In the other direction, the expanding energy and matter destroyed one tenth of the bug missile fleet.

The battle continued, and now the distances were closing rapidly. That increased the intensity of the beams, particularly the laser beams.

This was going to be a hotly fought contest.

***

In the end, Ural lost three star cruisers to Juggernaut laser beams. Those three ships simply could not get to the back of the cone quickly enough.

The kills cost the bugs the last two ex-Rull monsters. It also cost them half the missile fleet.

From that point, though, the contest was over. Now, it was a matter of slaughter.

The cone dispersed as disrupter beams destroyed the many heavy missiles.

The attack saucers might have used that time to run with star-drive jumps. They did not. They kept boring in, bugs defending their hive.

Each saucer exploded in time, annihilated by the superior and more numerous star cruisers.

The victory cost three star cruisers. Ural could hardly believe that. He’d thought this would be a cakewalk.

The tallest of the superiors sighed. Now, it was time to finish this for good.

-6-

The seventeen star cruisers scoured the Earth-sized moon with sensors and then with disrupter beams. They destroyed every missile launched at them. They exploded every surface laser battery.

Afterward, at Ural’s orders, the hellburners dropped. The bombs struck the domes and burned. Later, the drill mines went down and exploded deep underground. Those bombs also burned.

Bugs died and died, and the hive ceased to exist. More hellburners fell just to make sure.

Finally, it was over. Thrax’s new colony world was gone. What the Builder at the Dyson Sphere had begun long ago—an experiment—had ultimately ended as a failure.

Ural was glad to give the newest order. The seventeen star cruisers headed for home, one more enemy of the Throne World annihilated. Finally, he could get back to his chart and continue to hunt for his brother’s murderers.

-7-

A little over three hundred light-years away on Earth, Maddox and Meta ate a wonderful dinner with Grandmother O’Hara. Mary had permission to go with the captain to the restaurant of her choice. They ate in Paris at her favorite place.

Before the appetizer came, the captain reached across the table and held Mary’s hands.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for everything. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I love you, Grandma. I’m so happy to have another addition to my family.”

There were tears in Mary’s eyes, and she was smiling so wide her face hurt. “Let me tell you about your mother,” she said. “I haven’t had a chance until now.”

Meta dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. She was so happy for both of them.

“Yes,” Maddox said. “I would like that a lot. Tell me about my mother.”

Mary did. It was the greatest evening of her life since her dear Sandra had died.

Mary stared into Maddox’s eyes, finally telling him all the things she had longed to tell him for years now. Look at him, so strong and handsome, such a good grandson.

Even though Mary no longer ran Intelligence, and it looked like she never would, she was happy, very happy indeed. This was the greatest moment in a long, long time, and she hoped the evening would last forever.

THE END

To the Reader: Thanks! I hope you’ve enjoyed The Lost Swarm. If you liked the book and would like to see the series continue, please put up some stars and a review. Let new readers know what’s in store for them.

Read on for an exciting excerpt from the next book in the Lost Starship Series, The Lost Intelligence.

The Lost Intelligence

(Lost Starship Series 12)

-PROLOGUE-

“There’s someone to see you, sir,” the nurse said.

James K. Fletcher sat outside on the back veranda of his house on Maui, one of the islands of the Hawaiian chain.

Fletcher had once been tall, strong and overbearing, an admiral in Star Watch commanding the Fifth Fleet and later the Grand Fleet. He’d faced New Men, Swarm soldiers and ships, Spacers and even an Old One on the Forbidden Planet. The last battle had broken his already flagging spirit. Too many good men and women had died under his command, too many vital ships lost.

He’d retired after the Battle at the Forbidden Planet.

Now, he’d become a frail old man: skin, bones and haunted eyes—he’d been starving himself for too long. A heavy quilt was pulled up to his chin and he had a hat on his head. The skin sagged on his old face as he watched the ocean waves pounding the shore.

“Sir,” the nurse said.

Fletcher heard her but pretended he didn’t. He had a good idea what she wanted. Two days ago, all the members of the Board of Admiralty had come together to cajole him back into the service. Lord High Admiral Cook had been forced out after his actions on Pluto, sending a secret message to Star Watch’s enemy. Cook had joined the Iron Lady in retirement, as someone had compromised their minds.

Anyway, first one and then another admiral had come to see Fletcher. They needed him, they said. At a time like this, someone well known and respected had to take the helm of Star Watch, doing so as the new Lord High Admiral.

When they came as a group, they’d finally told him the truth. Admiral Byron was the other candidate. Five months ago, Byron had defeated renegade New Men under Lord Drakos and Swarm hybrids under Commander Thrax Ti Ix. Byron had done so while working with Golden Ural of the Throne World.

“Sounds like Byron’s your man,” Fletcher had mumbled.

“No!” said the Chief of Naval Personnel, a stern woman. “For one thing, Byron is from Flanders, an agriculture world in the former Windsor League, not an old Earther like you. And if you must know the truth, Captain Maddox did the heavy lifting that battle. Byron acted as his puppet.”

That had gotten a reaction from Fletcher, a shift of the eyes. He’d never really trusted the half-breed, had never understood why Maddox had been Cook’s fair-haired boy. Still, in the end, he’d refused to come out of retirement. He was old now. Weak. Worn out. He had too much blood on his hands.

“Sir,” the nurse said in the here and now. She could be persistent.

“What?” Fletcher muttered from his deck chair.

“There’s a man here to see you.”

“Send him away.”

“The admirals said it was important.”

With rheumy eyes, Fletcher stared out at the ocean. Despite the thunder of the waves, it was peaceful here. He wanted peace. He wanted to fade away as the cries and accusations of the dead faded with his weakening memories.

Fletcher knew he was old before his time. But he believed it was punishment for his callous ways, his command decisions and the tens of thousands of nubile young women the New Men had stolen out from under his nose. That had always galled him. Oh, how he’d wanted to punish the arrogant, golden-skinned bastards for that. But he never had been able to.

A warm hand touched his blanketed shoulder. “Please, sir,” the nurse said. “You must relax. Don’t breathe so hard.”

“Send him away,” Fletcher wheezed.

The nurse looked up. “It’s too late for that, sir. He’s already here.”

“Dammit,” Fletcher said, struggling to sit up. “I gave you an order.” He turned in his deck chair, turned to see a small man framed by the open sliding glass door.

“Hello, Admiral,” the man said.

He was pallid with narrow shoulders and wore a black Star Watch Intelligence uniform, the insignia showing he was a captain. Women might consider him handsome with his narrow mustache. He had dark eyes with a glint of something hidden there.

“Who are you?” Fletcher asked, with a tiny amount of saliva dribbling out of the right corner of his mouth.

The nurse dutifully wiped that away.

“I’m Captain Becker, sir.”

“Leave,” Fletcher said.

“I can’t, sir. I have my orders.”

“Well…what are your orders?”

“To convince you to become the new Lord High Admiral,” Becker said.

“What? You little squirt. You’re nothing to me. Is this a prank?”

Becker glanced at the nurse, and the glint in his eyes… “Perhaps you should let me speak to him in private.”

“I-I’m not supposed to leave him,” the nurse stammered.

“Go,” Becker said, and there was force in his voice.

The nurse straightened, and woodenly, she passed Becker, going into the house.

“What just happened?” Fletcher said. He was old and weak, but he wasn’t anyone’s fool.

Becker closed the sliding glass door behind him, coming out on the veranda with Fletcher. He squatted beside the feeble old man and put narrow hands on one of the deck chair’s armrests. Any observer would think him quietly chatting with blanketed Fletcher.

“Look into my eyes,” Becker said, with obvious command. “Let me tell you a secret.”

Fletcher found himself staring into those dark eyes. There was no longer just a glint, but shining power, a compelling aura about the man. It was more than hypnotic. Something seemed to pass from the dark eyes into Fletcher. He felt as if strength and resolve filled him like air blown into a balloon. It was frankly invigorating.

“You will become the Lord High Admiral,” Becker said.

“I…I have some reservations about that.”

“I know. But it’s time to act in order to perform great deeds that will pay for all those who died under your old command.”

“Is that how such things work?”

“You will help the rest of us, the ordinary humans, against the New Men, the Swarm creatures and others who desire to eliminate the race of Man from existence.”

“Do we really have a chance against superior men, trillions of advanced bugs and whatever else is waiting out there?” Fletcher asked.

“If we all band together like citizens into an old-style Roman legion, acting as one, then yes, we can face any enemy. We will overcome.”

“Admiral Byron could do that, too.”

“No. We need an Earth-born man to take charge. We need the symbolism of that.”

Fletcher nodded slowly.

“You could also start initiating changes in Star Watch,” Becker said.

“What kind of changes?”

Becker told him.

“What you say will be difficult,” Fletcher said afterward. “While I already feel stronger, I’m not a young man anymore.”

“I know. We’ll help.”

Fletcher frowned. “Just who are ‘we’ anyway?”

“The men and women of Star Watch who believe that unmodified humans are best suited for the job of defending humanity.”

“Yes,” Fletcher said, his rheumy eyes beginning to shine with purpose and resolve. “Only…”

“What now?” Becker asked, perhaps with a hint of annoyance.

“I’ve been out there, son. I’ve faced the enemy. Platitudes aren’t going to save us. Even if humanity works with one accord…” Fletcher shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Becker fingered his chin, studying the old man with hooded eyes. In the end, he nodded. “It will be hard work, certainly, but you have no idea what truly united humanity can do. With everyone pulling in one direction—let me tell you how it could be achieved.”

Fletcher sat absorbed as he listened to Becker again, once more drawing strength from the man. What the Intelligence captain said made sense. Cook was gone. Now, Star Watch needed to be more vigilant than ever, and that meant making damned sure that regular humans did the heavy lifting. They would have to make the right choices, of course. But when only real Homo sapiens served in the legion, not anyone else, because no one else had humanity’s best interests at heart—

Fletcher frowned. Despite all he’d heard, he still had a reservation. Becker had spoken about someone named Nostradamus, saying he would help Star Watch to make the right choices.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Fletcher said.

Becker stopped talking, watching him closely.

“Who’s this Nostradamus?” Fletcher asked. “I don’t understand how he can do the things you’ve suggested.”

For the first time, Becker frowned. It lasted only a second. His lips straightened as he dug under the blanket, gripping one of Fletcher’s withered arms with both hands. Becker inhaled deeply and said with a loud voice, “Listen to me, old man. Are you listening?”

Strain showed on Becker’s face. Then, heat radiated from the captain’s hands. At first, it was frightening. Then, the heat flooded Fletcher with even greater strength than before. It was intoxicating. Oh, yes, he was going to make Star Watch the greatest organization in the Orion Spiral Arm, and nothing was going to stop him. Here was his great and final purpose, his reason for being.

“You’ll need Nostradamus in order to achieve all this,” Becker whispered.

“Why?”

“He will predict our enemies’ moves with startling accuracy.”

“He can do that?”

“And more,” Becker whispered, “much more. But first, you must become the Lord High Admiral.”

The idea of that—“Help me stand, young man. I have a call to make.”

“I will, sir. But before you make the call, you’ll need food, lots of food to rebuild your vigor and fill out your frame again.”

Fletcher stared at him. It was strange, but Becker seemed drained, as if he’d used up tremendous energy.

The old man grinned. He still remembered how to do that. “Get my nurse. Tell her to start cooking. I’m ravenous, by George. I have a job to do, and I’m going to get it done or die trying.”

Becker climbed wearily to his feet until he stood straight, saluting sharply. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, sir, on your new appointment.”

“Yes, yes,” Fletcher said, with a wave of a veined old hand, one that now moved spryly. “I don’t have time to gab. I want to work and accomplish mighty deeds. Do you hear me?”

Becker nodded.

“Then move,” Fletcher said, using his newly rediscovered command voice. “This is about saving Star Watch and the human race.”

“Yes, sir,” Becker said, opening the sliding glass door. “You’re absolutely correct, sir. I can tell you’re a man of great vision.”

Fletcher nodded. It was true. He had a vision, a new one, a mighty one. He could hardly wait to get started.