SF Books by Vaughn Heppner

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

THE SOLDIER SERIES:

The X-Ship

Escape Vector

Final Odyssey

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

The Lost Tech

The Lost Secret

The Lost Barrier

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The Lost Tech

(Lost Starship Series 13)

by Vaughn Heppner

Illustration © Tom Edwards

TomEdwardsDesign.com

Copyright © 2021 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.

From the Office of Lord High Admiral Cook: Memo #274

With the sad passing of James K. Fletcher, I have once again stepped into the harness as the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch. As such, it is my solemn duty to make the transition as painless as possible and to guarantee a smooth running of the fleet, its stations and people. During the transition period, we must continue to serve and protect the Commonwealth of Planets with all our heart, skill and strength, and attempt to heal the divisions caused by Humanity Manifesto Doctrines.

Certainly, many of the HM Doctrines were correct in theory. A few, clearly, were heinous and destructive. Particularly, it was the organizational implementation of the doctrines into daily Star Watch activities that produced such heartache, confusion and, at times, treason to the state.

This will stop, I assure you, as we correct the worst offenses to common sense and decency in our glorious organization.

One of the key disruptions was the creation of the Political Intelligence Division with its “loyalty purging” headhunting field agents and political commissars assigned to fleet vessels and star bases. Effective immediately, all PI commissars are relieved of duty and must report as soon as possible to Star Watch Headquarters on Earth for evaluation of their actions. Failure to comply will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of military law.

Furthermore, any fleet or station officer who refuses to adhere to the new standards but continues to follow outdated interpretations of HM Doctrine will be relieved of duty.

To ensure the full compliance with these changes, I have assigned Brigadier Stokes as head of the Transition Teams of my selection. The Teams will include a mix of Military Intelligence officers, Space Marines and key personnel serving on various battleships. These teams will physically deploy throughout the Commonwealth and check each Star Watch ship and installation to ensure all personnel are fully complying with the new regulations. They will also pick up any recalcitrant political commissars, rogue PI personnel and unyielding HM extremists unable to cope with the new administration. Those who are picked up will be brought to Earth to face court martial hearings.

It is my heartfelt desire that these changes will take place with a minimum of disruption and violence. But be it noted, anyone acting treasonously against Star Watch will face a final reckoning, whether from the Judge Advocate’s Office or from Transition Team members performing their duty as specified by me, Lord High Admiral Cook.

-1-

From where she sat on her military prison cot, former Star Watch Commander Kris Guderian looked up at her tiny cell window. It faced a brick wall—she’d jumped up before, grabbed the bars and hoisted herself to look. The sky was the only observable piece of nature from the window. On Alpha Sigma 9, that meant a pink sky with two stars: a giant cool blue one and a tiny hot white one.

Kris shuddered as a volley of shots rang out, the sounds echoing from the walls. After the echoes died away, her throat convulsed. They’d been executing prisoners all morning. She didn’t know why. Well, she assumed it was prisoners. Who else could it be?

I won’t whimper when they come for me. It can’t be long now.

Kris was almost thirty-eight, of medium height with long red hair and freckles across her stub nose. She’d had a dashing service record, having served under Admiral Fletcher when he’d run the Fifth Fleet against the New Men invasion of “C” Quadrant so many years ago. She had also been the first to see a Destroyer of the Nameless Ones as it demolished the capital planet of New Arabia of the now extinct Wahhabi Caliphate.

As she sat trembling on the prison cot, Kris stiffened, hearing the sound of clashing boots on concrete getting closer. Were the prison guards finally coming for her?

Through an act of will, Kris squared her shoulders and forced herself to stand. It was so damn muggy in here without the air conditioning running anymore. When had it stopped? Three days before the executions began, she believed. Had the officials decided on that so they could save on the electric bill? Or just make the prisoner suffer?

Kris wore a shapeless gray military-prison uniform with the number 8 stenciled on it and with damp stains under her armpits. She’d been in here four months already, having failed a Political Intelligence loyalty test. She’d failed because she’d refused to malign Captain Maddox at the order of the commodore of Alpha Sigma 9. She’d worked with Maddox before and admired the officer. Having worked with him had been her first black mark. Failing to denounce him had been the second. She had offered to condemn the New Men instead of Maddox.

“That’s not good enough,” the commodore had told her. “I’ll give you one more chance, Commander.”

Kris hadn’t taken it back then.

Will they ask me about Maddox today? What will I say? She nodded. I’ll damn him and live. Anything else would be criminally stupid, right?

She began trembling as a lock snicked. Her heavy cell door swung open. They really are coming for me. I can’t believe it. Two thickset guards in black uniforms stared at her. They had beefy features and had sneered at her four months ago. Funny, neither of them sneered now. In fact, both seemed harried, possibly worried. They had lines around their eyes and hard frown lines around their mouths.

“Prisoner Number Eight, step outside,” the shorter of the two said, a man missing one of his upper front teeth. A dirty nametag on his chest said: Corporal Johan.

“W-Why?” Kris stammered.

Corporal Johan snapped his thick fingers and motioned for her to hurry.

“I—I demand to know why you’re—”

“Stupid bitch,” Johan growled, interrupting. “Do I have to drag you out by the hair?”

Kris found it difficult to swallow as she made odd gasping noises. This was so unfair, so wrong and vile. She managed to raise her chin as she walked toward them. She was thankful her legs didn’t tremble or her knees unlock so she sprawled onto the floor before them.

Corporal Johan reached out, grabbing an arm and hauling her faster. The second guard grabbed the other arm, doing so with a cruel grip. They began marching her down the corridor.

Her stomach twisted with fear as bile rose in the back of her throat. This couldn’t be happening. She blinked rapidly and moistened her dry lips, whispering, “Where are you taking me?”

Neither guard answered. Nor did either guard look at her. It was almost as if they found her existence offensive. Or maybe they were ashamed of what they were going to do to her.

Kris closed her eyes as they marched her through a corridor. This was a nightmare. She couldn’t just walk silently to death. She had to do something, anything. But what, what could she do?

She opened her eyes wide even as she found it difficult to breathe. “I-I hardly knew Captain Maddox,” she said.

“What?” Johan said.

Just get this over with, she decided. It’s better than dying. Tell them you hated Maddox, that he was a traitor. She inhaled, still finding this difficult, and blurted, “I said that I hardly knew Captain Maddox.”

The two guards leaned forward and frowned at each other across her. Corporal Johan looked at her next.

“What are you babbling about?” he asked sharply.

Kris was confused. What was she doing wrong? Spit it out. Talk or you’ll die before a firing squad. “This is about Captain Maddox, isn’t it? I-I failed…failed a loyalty test four months ago, remember?”

Johan muttered a curse, releasing her arm, snatching a communicator from a back pocket. He activated it, waited, “Hello, sir,” he said, sounding respectful. “I have a question for you.”

Kris couldn’t hear what the person on the other end said to the guard.

“Yes, sir,” Johan said. “I was escorting Prisoner Eight to the courtyard for…for removal. She was in Ward Three— What’s that, sir? Yes, I said Prisoner Eight.”

Kris cocked her head, as she heard tinny sounds coming from the communicator as if the person on the other end was shouting.

Johan lowered his comm unit as he faced her. “What’s your name, Eight?”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“Your name, your name, your legal name, what is it?” he said testily.

“Oh. Kris Guderian.”

A worried-looking Johan repeated that into the communicator. A moment later, he paled. “Is that Commander Kris Guderian?” he asked her.

Kris nodded.

“Yes, sir, she’s a commander,” Johan said into the communicator. He listened, finally saying, “But I thought—”

More tinny shouting commenced from the communicator.

“Yes, sir,” Johan said, as he went from pale to ashen. “I understand, sir. Yes, at once. You can count on me. I’m glad I checked, sir.” And the corporal added slyly, “I imagine you’ll be glad later that I did, sir.” Johan listened again, and some of the fear in his eyes dissipated until he managed a sickly smile to his partner.

Finally, Johan pocketed his communicator. “Let her go,” he said.

The other guard released Kris’s arm as if she was on fire.

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Commander,” Johan told her, with a glimmer of respect in his voice. “The warden told me to ready you for flitter flight. He said the commodore has been asking for you. He forgot—I mean, I must not have heard him tell us to free you and pass on his orders...Commander.”

“What?” stammered Kris.

“The Commodore of Alpha Sigma Nine would like a word with you,” Johan said with exaggerated patience.

“Why would the Commodore want a word with me?” she asked.

“I don’t know. But I’m to take you to his office on the double. Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I’m supposed to ask if you’d like to shower and eat first.”

Kris blinked at the guard. What was going on? She shook her head, saying timidly, “Yes. And I’d like a change of clothes for after the shower, if that’s possible. A fresh uniform.”

“Of course, Commander,” Johan said, now sounding fully respectful, maybe having thought through future implications. “I do hope…we were just following orders a few minutes ago. We thought you were still under arrest. I’m glad I took the initiative to make a call to the warden. I would think—I hope you remember that I was the one to make the call.”

Kris nodded. She wanted to get the hell out of the prison and away from the executions in the courtyard. What did the star-base commodore want with her, and what had caused the sudden switch in her status?

“Are you ready, Commander?” Corporal Johan asked.

“Yes,” Kris said. Not only had she escaped a firing squad, but she was also going to shower after four months of filth and fear. Maybe her luck had finally changed. Maybe the days of having bad luck dog her in everything she did were finally over.

-2-

Alpha Sigma 9 was a small, dense water moon with nearly Earth gravity. The gas giant it orbited showed a multitude of bright, banded colors, taking up the majority of the pink sky this hour of the day.

Kris felt one hundred percent better as she rode in a flitter, with Corporal Johan piloting the two-seater. She had showered and combed her hair, which shone redder than before. Her skin hurt, she’d scrubbed so hard with a soapy brush in a needle-hot shower. Afterward, she’d put on the clean Star Watch uniform she’d been given. She’d eaten a ham sandwich with a rich, fresh glass of milk. Her stomach felt bloated after her near-starvation prison diet of the last four months.

Her mind clicked more smoothly, too, with the imminent threat of death removed and with freedom and cleanliness.

She eyed the piloting corporal sidelong. The thickset man wore a brown flight jacket and fidgeted with the controls. He was definitely nervous about something. She debated asking him questions and decided she didn’t want to hear his grating voice again.

They landed on a flat rooftop a half hour later. The four-story building was on a hill overlooking a nearby spaceport. She spied military craft on the spaceport tarmac along with several starliner shuttles.

The corporal remained in the flitter, while a marine in Star Watch colors approached the craft. The marine didn’t carry a rifle, but had a holstered sidearm. The marine gave her a hand out. When they were halfway across the roof, the flitter lifted off, heading back for the prison, no doubt.

Kris wanted to ask the marine what this was about, but decided to wait. He escorted her to an elevator. It took them down two floors. The marine escorted her through a carpeted hall and into the outer office of Commodore Smits of Star Base Alpha Sigma 9.

The administration specialist—a thin man with odd eyes—scribbled madly as they entered. He looked up from his desk with a sheen of moisture on his broad forehead.

“Commander Guderian?” the man asked briskly.

“That’s me,” she said.

“The Commodore is waiting for you. Please, go in.”

Kris glanced at the marine. He was already turning around, getting ready to leave.

The administration specialist must have pressed a hidden switch on his desk. The door opened, and Commodore Smits stepped out.

He was a large man with big hands, a sagging stomach and a ring of curly hair around a bald dome. He also possessed outrageously oversized sideburns and keen dark eyes.

“I’m glad you made it so promptly, Commander,” Smits said. “Please, won’t you come in?”

Kris wanted to ask what choice she’d had, but hadn’t regained that sort of courage yet. Her uniform helped her feel normal and—she nodded, aware she’d lost awareness for a moment, still disoriented from the abrupt transition from prisoner to officer once again. She followed the commodore into his office.

It felt disarranged and disorganized. Several portraits were missing from the walls, a few of them stacked upside down on the floor. There were plastic bins to the side full of little things.

“Sit, please,” the commodore said, as he headed around the desk.

Kris sat in a chair with wooden armrests, struck by the unreality of the situation. It was as if her four months in military prison had never happened. Was the commodore going to laugh and re-arrest her to break any semblance of willpower? She half-expected him to do it, and maybe that showed on her face.

The commodore sat behind his desk, picked up a reader, staring at something on the screen. He set the reader down, folded his thick fingers together and leaned slightly forward, giving her a false smile.

“I imagine you’re feeling a bit disoriented,” he said.

Kris shifted in her chair, a knot forming in her chest. Here it comes. Don’t cry. Take it like an officer.

“Please, Commander,” Smits said. “I want you to be at ease.”

“How can I?” she blurted. “The guards were taking me to the courtyard for execution. Suddenly, the one guard makes a call and—”

“Commander,” Smits said with a hearty-good-fellow chuckle. “That was a mistake, a stupid one, I agree. Heads will roll because of it, I assure you.”

Kris frowned. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Er, yes, well—”

“Why did you arrest me four months ago? What did I do wrong?”

“Me?” Smits asked, seeming to feign astonishment. “No, no, you’re mistaken. Colonel Borneo of Political Intelligence forced me to arrest you. He was a veritable devil of a man, a monster, really. Thank goodness he’s gone. He’s never going to denounce or distress anyone ever again. Of that, I can guarantee you.”

“But—”

“Commander,” Smits said. He stopped speaking, seeming to choose his words carefully before starting again. “Those evil days are behind us. The monsters of Political Intelligence won’t twist anyone’s arms again. We all survived the nightmare of their dominance. Frankly, I believe it’s time to put those dreadful days behind us. That’s all in the past. It’s over.”

“Wait,” Kris said, holding up a hand, surprised it did not tremble. He’s afraid, Commodore Smits is afraid—of me. The thought was so outrageous, so dreamlike given the past four months— “What happened?” she asked.

“Eh?”

Her confidence began dribbling back into her heart. The fear in Smit’s eyes—he’s trying hard to mask it. She sat straighter, glancing around the office. She could feel Smits watching her as she studied her surroundings.

“Would you like some tea, coffee, orange juice?” Smits asked in his artificially hearty tone.

It struck Kris then. The way Smits had said, I can guarantee you. She looked at him, asking, “What happened to Colonel Borneo?”

Smits flinched as if she’d reached out and slapped him, although he recovered almost immediately. “He, ah, faced the justice that he gave so many others.”

Kris frowned, trying to piece that together in her mind. “Colonel Borneo was a killer,” she heard herself say. “He sent people to the firing…” Understanding struck. She leaned forward as the air simply left her lungs. She stared at the floor, blinking, blinking… Slowly, she straightened, forcing herself to suck down air.

“Commander, this is a sordid affair,” Smits said. “Borneo, we don’t have to think about him anymore. We have much more pleasant business to—”

“Did you have him shot?” Kris asked, astonished at the idea.

Smits said nothing, his gaze faltering as she stared at him. He studied the reader on his desk instead.

“I heard the volleys,” she said, “many firing-squad executions. The way you’re talking, the guards must have shot Colonel Borneo and—who else did you shoot?”

Smits looked up sharply. “Me?” he asked in a squeaky voice. He paused, maybe regaining his bearings. Speaking in a normal tone, he said, “You misunderstand. I had no one shot. A new directive came down. I’m simply—”

“What new directive?” Kris asked, interrupting.

Smits opened his mouth. He licked his teeth and gave her a sickly smile. He didn’t seem so powerful anymore.

Kris cocked her head and studied the commodore as she would a new planet or comet. She had been a Patrol officer, often seeking out new star systems and cataloging them in detail.

“All right, then,” Smits said, the smile disappearing into a vault. A grim demeanor took its place. “We can proceed along these lines if you wish. I had thought you would appreciate—”

“What happened?” Kris said, interrupting him once again. “I went to military prison because I wouldn’t condemn Captain Maddox as a race traitor. Now, you had Colonel Borneo shot. Did you shoot him because…? Oh,” she said suddenly.

“What?” Smits snapped, who watched her the way a rat might a cat, but a rat with others of his kind debating in the shadows that if they all jumped the cat at once… “What do you think you know?”

Kris didn’t heed the warning signs. The feeling of power—he’s afraid of me—filled her with a sudden sense of invincibility. “You shot Borneo’s men, all of them belonging to Political Intelligence. That was why the guards were hauling me to the courtyard. They mistakenly thought I belonged to Political Intelligence.”

“Now look here, Commander,” Smits said. “I had no one shot, as I’m not the warden in charge of the prison. In fact, you were lucky I...persuaded the warden to release you into my custody. You asked about changes. Well, there was a big one. Lord High Admiral Fletcher died.”

“What? When did that happen?”

Smits scowled and then forcibly turned it into a smile, a seemingly false one. “Cook has returned to Star Watch.”

“Lord High Admiral Cook?” she asked.

Smits nodded.

“Aha…” Kris said.

“Aha indeed,” Smits said. “As you might imagine, Humanity Manifesto Doctrine has gone out the window, as its tenets are in disgrace. Furthermore, Cook has disbanded the Political Intelligence Division, with many of its members destined for prison or execution.”

Kris sat back in her chair, absorbing the information.

“Transition Teams are heading out everywhere to ensure the implementation of the new regulations,” Smits said, casually glancing down at his nails. “We here are simply ahead of the curve—in an effort to make the Lord High Admiral’s task easier by taking care of such problems here for him. If we’d waited, you’d still be in prison, hmm?”

Kris frowned, trying to understand the hidden meaning of what Smits said. Then, it struck her with full force. Smits was a survivor, a cunning maneuverer. Four months ago, he had been vocal in praise of HM Doctrine. He’d backed Political Intelligence to the hilt. Now, he’d turned on them, and was killing the people he’d sucked up to. Maybe he was doing so to cover himself, to seal lips from ever telling dirty little secrets he didn’t want known.

And then it really hit her. Smits is cleaning house. If he thinks I’m dangerous to him, he’ll make sure I’m killed, too. But with me, he would do it on the sly.

A cold hard knot formed in her gut. She wasn’t out of it yet. Greasy fear resumed. It felt as if someone had poured a bucket of slime over her head.

Smits must have noticed the mental calculations taking place—if the wheels turning in his eyes were any indication. He picked up the reader, maybe doing it to give himself a few more seconds to think. He inhaled, and it seemed as if he’d come to a decision.

“Actually, it’s good you’re here, Commander,” Smits said, looking at her again. “I’ve received…odd information. It’s three weeks old and comes from the 82 G. Eridani System.”

It took Kris a moment to switch gears. “That’s eight and a half light-years from here. Why is the data three weeks old?”

“As to that, I can’t say. The point is I need someone with Patrol experience to check it out for me. Local Eridani government people came here because we have the right sort of ships and personnel for such a task. While there’s a battleship guarding Olmstead—”

“Olmstead?” asked Kris, interrupting again.

“That’s the name of the populated planet at 82 G. Eridani,” he said. “Olmstead has six hundred and fifty million inhabitants. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have a permanent Star Watch base. The battleship isn’t rigged for finding—” Smits glanced at the reader, looking up at her afterward. “It isn’t the type of vessel to go looking for missing asteroids.”

“Missing asteroids?” Kris repeated. “Where could they possibly go?”

“That is what I want you to find out, Commander. Despite your probationary reinstatement into command—I’m talking about before HMD ascendancy. Well, you’re the only Patrol qualified officer here to go and check.” Smits hesitated, cleared his throat and added, “You see, I’ve read your file. I know why High Command debated about your ability to serve again. Methuselah Man Strand once captured you.”

The old pain resurfaced in Kris.

“There have been questions concerning your mental capacity and loyalty to Star Watch,” Smits said. “Some feel that Strand may have modified your mind.”

“The psychiatrists said he didn’t,” Kris said.

Smits nodded. “I’ve read your file, remember? I know about that. Given your past treatment due to Political Intelligence—well, I want to give you the opportunity to prove yourself. You could call it compensation, a desire on my part to make up the last four months to you.”

He’s telling me that he’s willing to buy me off, Kris realized. And send me away too, where I won’t be an embarrassment to him, or a loose end.

“I have a science vessel in orbit,” Smits said. “It has a minimal crew, without a commander and pilot, among other things. However, according to your record, you can pilot an Escort-class vessel.”

“I can,” Kris said, thinking hard.

“There were strange electronic readings in the 82 G. Eridani System’s main asteroid belt. I want you to check that out as well, and I suggest you begin your investigation there.”

“I see,” Kris said. “How long do you think this will take—long enough to keep me out of your hair for…?” She let her thought trail off.

Smits’s manner changed as his eyes hardened. “I suggest you tread carefully while addressing me. I’m still the commodore and your superior officer. I can easily put a black mark or two into your file regarding your mental balance. It would have nothing to do with Political Intelligence, but with my opinion regarding Strand’s possible mind alterations.”

“In other words—” Kris stopped herself from saying, If I don’t make waves, you’ll give me a full bill of mental health. But if I try to tell the truth about you, you’ll screw with my files and wreck my career forever.

Smits’s eyes narrowed, as he seemed to take her measure. He nodded shortly. “I believe we understand each other. Make a thorough study of the problem, Commander. Find out what is going on out there. Come back once you find out, but not until then.”

Despite her dislike of Smits, Kris forced the words out of her mouth. “You can count on me, sir.”

“Good,” he said, and it was clear that he had immediately lost interest in her. He bent down to his reader, waving his left hand at her in dismissal.

Kris stood. She was free…for now. What would happen to her once she returned? Would the transition team Smits obviously feared have come and gone by then? At that point, would Smits be content with letting her live, knowing what she did about him?

Smits looked up at her.

As he did, Kris turned away, toward the door. She didn’t want the commodore to see the new understanding in her eyes. Without another word, she marched out.

Thus, Kris did not see Smits gaze thoughtfully after her. Nor did she see him open a drawer and take out a folder. He opened the folder, picked up a pen and scribbled something into the file. Perhaps what he wrote would not make any difference to her future. Then again, maybe it would.

-3-

The Bombay was a frigate-sized science vessel of the India-class, with a displacement of 3,240 tons. It was an oval vessel with many sensor protuberances and antennae in the front third of the ship. Twin thruster ports showed the location of the rear. Commodore Smits had understated the lack of personnel. What he should have said was “a severe lack of even a skeleton crew.” In truth, the tiny number of people aboard was absurd to the point of madness. As long as absolutely nothing went wrong, they might be able to travel to 82 G. Eridani and back.

The absurdly few people aboard made Kris wonder if the Bombay was even meant to make it back.

There was an engineer, a computer tech and a slovenly first mate named Spengler. That was it. All three were men and quite different in size and temperament from each other.

First Mate Spengler was rotund, with poor hygiene, whiskers of six or seven days’ growth and whiskey breath when he spoke.

Despite the absurdity of four people running a science vessel, Kris had been tempted to leave Spengler behind, but she’d concluded that only three was beyond the pale of reason.

The engineer and tech—

Kris dismissed them from her thoughts as she piloted the Bombay. She sat at the controls on the bridge, if one could call it that. It had four seats, three of them empty, two for science officers, the third to run the small cannon and hers to pilot the vessel.

The Bombay had left the Alpha Sigma 9 System behind and was halfway to the 82 G. Eridani System, which was a mere twenty light-years from Earth.

I could turn the ship and flee there, reporting to the Lord High Admiral. But I would be disobeying direct orders. Besides, maybe something really is wrong in the 82 G. Eridani System. After I check it out…then I can decide if I need to race to Earth.

Kris luxuriated in the freedom from prison. She loved running a starship, even an empty frigate like the Bombay. The frigate was in moderately decent repair, not bad considering the less than skeleton crew. Once she received a full crew complement, then they could go about making the science vessel perfectly shipshape again.

Until then—

The hatch opened and Spengler stumbled onto the bridge. He gripped a bottle in one hand and a wicked-looking knife in the other. Blearily, he looked around until he spotted her. Even so, he leaned forward, searching harder, as if he couldn’t believe he truly saw her.

“C-Commander,” he slurred.

Kris was very aware of the knife he was holding: a combat blade, she was sure. Why would he be waving a knife around?

Act tough. Don’t show him you’re worried. Worried, she laughed inwardly. Is he here to murder me? All right, let’s put an end to this farce.

“First,” Kris said in a crisp voice. “I did not give you permission to enter the bridge. Second, you must put down your bottle and blade.”

Spengler’s black-haired head swayed back, and he blinked a few times in rapid succession. After he was finished with his display, he raised the bottle, taking several swallows, and then pulled the bottle away as he smacked his lips and belched.

“That’s disgusting,” Kris said.

He aimed the knife at her. “You’re—you sorry piece of shit. Don’t you understand nothing? Don’t you get it yet?”

Kris held herself still as an ill feeling grew in her. Is he Commodore Smits’s man? Was this a setup? Is that why there are only four of us? “Why don’t you put down the knife and explain what’s going on?” she said evenly.

Spengler grinned stupidly and guzzled from his bottle once again.

How long has he been drinking? He’s dead drunk. That isn’t his first bottle.

“I’m putting you on report,” Kris said.

“You are?” Spengler asked facetiously. “Oh noes, please don’t do that, I beg you,” he said, giggling.

Kris glanced around, looking for some kind of weapon. There was nothing available. Was a drunken first mate going to try to knife her to death in space? This was unbelievable.

He staggered farther onto the bridge, the hatch shutting automatically behind him. “I get—I get a reprieve if I take care of you.” He hiccupped, stared ahead and then inhaled deeply, belching loudly once finished.

I have to use my wits. That’s all I have left. “What happened to you, Spengler?”

He looked at her owlishly. “What—what do you mean?”

“You’re filthy drunk and talking about murder.”

He nodded, guzzling more and waving the knife around as he did.

“What about the others?” she asked, wondering if they were all in on this. “Don’t they want to be in on the kill as well?”

“Pshaw those weak sisters don’t know, don’t understand the storm that’s rolling in for us right thinkers. I do, though. I get it. I know, all right.”

Kris got it then. “You believe in the Humanity Manifesto?”

“That’s right,” he slurred, puffing out his chest. “Humans for humanity, we all stick together in one big legion. The New Men, Spacers and freaks like Captain Maddox can’t hurt us then. United we’re strong.”

“Why didn’t Smits put you before a firing squad with the other PI people?”

Spengler hiccupped, shaking his head. “I don’t know nothing about Smits. Johan asked me for a favor, said if I scratched his back, the warden would help scratch mine, if you know what I mean.” The first mate put three fingertips of the bottle-holding hand against his lips, hunched his shoulders and looked around theatrically. “Oh no, I gave it away. Can’t do that, as it will mean lights out for both of us if we’re caught. You know what that means, don’t you? It’s time to carve up the turkey so we can be good and safe.”

“You’re friends with that stupid prison guard?” Kris asked.

Spengler stared at her. “Johan ain’t bright, but he ain’t stupid. We went to boot camp together. Seen a lot of—” Anger washed across Spengler’s grimy features. He hurled the bottle down hard, the glass shattering and scattering across the deck. His knuckles whitened around the knife as he staggered toward her.

Kris jumped up from her seat, backpedalling from him. “I can tell you’re no murderer. Thinking of doing this made you hit the bottle.”

“Ain’t you a genius,” Spengler muttered. “Still, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

Kris looked around wildly as Spengler stumbled toward her, the knife leading the way. She glanced down and noticed her belt. Backpedalling more, she unlatched her belt buckle and drew the leather from the belt loops.

“You’re dead,” Spengler said, his eyes glassier than ever.

Kris gripped the end of the belt, letting the buckle dangle as her weapon. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but Spengler wasn’t much of a first mate, and he was weaving drunk. He had a knife, though, and she wasn’t a hand-to-hand combat specialist. The last time she’d done anything like this—

Spengler screamed like a lunatic, stumbling at her in a staggering run. He straightened his arm with the knife aimed at her.

Kris froze in terror.

No! No! Swing the damn belt. Do something.

Panicking, Kris closed her eyes and swung the belt. As the buckle flew through the air, she opened her eyes. The buckle hit Spengler in the face. It didn’t knock him down or anything spectacular, but he jerked his head madly, slipped and fell backward, his arms flailing. He grunted as his back thudded against the deck. The back of his head hit harder, and he threw his hands up, the knife sailing away.

“Didn’t feel a thing,” he said a second later, sitting up. His glassy eyes were crossed, however.

Kris backed away from him.

“Let’s try that again,” Spengler mumbled. He tried to get up but slumped down onto his butt. “Damn, but I feel woozy.”

Kris’s throat convulsed. She forced herself to move, sliding around him toward the fallen knife. Could she cut him? No, no, that wasn’t the question. She could keep him from cutting her, though.

“Hey, where’s my knife? Did you take my knife?”

Kris refused to look at him. He really wanted to kill her. She couldn’t believe it.

“All right, all right. Now I’m going to do this right.” Spengler slowly and methodically began climbing to his feet.

Kris screamed, dropping the belt and racing to the knife.

“Why are you yelling?” Spengler mumbled. “I haven’t cut you yet. You can yell then good and hard, just as long as you die.”

Kris reached the knife, picked it up and turned around. Spengler shouted incoherently, stumbled at her, waving his arms. He tripped again but didn’t go down. Instead, he sped at her. Kris screamed once more, thrusting the knife, holding the handle with both hands. Spengler smashed against her, and that knocked Kris backward. Her arms windmilled as she fell back. Incredibly, perhaps remembering her gymnastics routines from high school, she summersaulted backward and ended up unsteadily on her feet, surprised how she’d done that.

Spengler was swaying, with a deep frown on his stupid face. “Where did the knife go? It’s around here somewhere. Did you see where it went?”

Both he and Kris must have noticed the knife at the same time. It was stuck in his chest up to the hilt.

“I’ll be damned,” Spengler said. “You did it. You stuck me.” He reached up, grabbed the handle and yanked the knife out of his chest. Blood spurted and the knife was red with gore. “Guess what?” he said. “I don’t feel a damn thing. Drinking has its value, wouldn’t you agree?”

Kris made mewling noises in the back of her throat.

Spengler sighed deeply, started toward her and then a look of confusion filled his face. “You know what?” he asked.

Kris shook her head.

Spengler didn’t say another word. Instead, like a tree, he toppled forward onto his face, twitched a few times, and then lay still.

Kris stared at him. She was certain that if she went to check, he’d look up and laugh, telling her he’d been faking. Then he would grab and hold her, cutting her throat.

Kris waited a solid ten minutes before it dawned on her that First Mate Spengler was truly dead and that she’d killed him. Would they put her away forever or hang her for this?

“No,” she whispered. It was time to change her luck the way Captain Maddox changed his.

-4-

Maybe Kris wasn’t thinking straight about this. A man had just tried to murder her on her own vessel, and she’d killed him instead while defending herself. She hadn’t intended to actually kill him, but who would know that or believe her story? Could she even trust the other two?

In her present mental state, Kris didn’t think so. Her heart had twisted within her, beating strangely. Breathing became a chore she found fatiguing. Wasn’t that weird? Without breath, she would end up like Spengler here.

Kris had moved the corpse on an anti-grav sled, after wrestling his fat dead bulk onto it. Her clothes were bloody and—

“No,” she whispered. Blood dripped from the sled onto the deck. That meant she’d have to retrace her route and scrub away every particle of blood. It was damning evidence against her.

Kris grabbed a rag and sopped the blood so it wouldn’t drip more from the sled. She crumpled the bloody rag and tossed it onto the dead thing on the sled. Then, numbly, she continued pushing the floating anti-gravity sled down a ship corridor.

She was going to space the corpse and maybe the grav sled too. But that was okay. She didn’t think anyone was going to do an inspection anytime soon. Well, not exactly, anyway. She couldn’t go back to Alpha Sigma 9. That was crystal clear to her. So…

Kris halted, standing there breathing mindlessly. What if the other two are in on this? They might be carrying combat knives, hunting for me even now.

Kris heaved a deep sigh and headed away from the sled. Her steps quickened until she was running down the corridor, reaching an armory shelf—

She slid to a halt in sick disbelief. The armory panel was open, which meant someone had opened it. Trembling, she examined the blasters—one was missing, the third on the top.

Okay, okay, she had to think. Who had taken the blaster and why? She snorted, grabbed another blaster and checked the charge—full. She set it on high blast. No more half-measures for her. She took a step, and then halted, came back and closed the panel. Then, she ran back to the anti-gravity sled.

With the blaster tucked behind her waistband, with her hands on the handles, she pushed the anti-grav-sled through the corridors. She kept her ears open, straining to hear everything she could.

No spaceship was ever quiet, not if one listened. She heard the air-conditioning and engine thrums. She heard metallic groans and creaks, terrifying if one listened to them for long. What she did not hear were footfalls other than her own.

The tension in her coiled tighter until she made short sharp gasps. She wanted to relax. She wanted—

Kris halted and forced herself to breathe as deeply as she could. She held that and exhaled slowly and completely. Then, she repeated the process. Amazingly, that calmed her and straightened her thinking.

Would Commodore Smits order the prison warden to have Corporal Johan make a deal with First Mate Spengler to murder her? That seemed unlikely. Who would possibly trust Spengler to see something like that through?

A fool would, Kris told herself. Was Commodore Smits a fool? No. Was the prison warden a fool? That was unlikely. So, who did that leave?

“Corporal Johan,” she whispered.

While Johan wasn’t completely stupid, he might be just foolish enough to murder. Was Johan friends with the Bombay’s engineer and computer tech? What had Spengler told her? Johan and he had gone to boot camp together. It would stretch credibility to think that the other two had been in the same boot camp.

Kris started feeling better until she remembered the open armory panel and missing blaster. “Oh,” she said, laughing nervously. It was obvious now that she thought about it. Spengler had opened the panel earlier and taken the blaster. Afterward, he’d gotten roaring drunk and forgotten all about the blaster, using his knife instead.

Feeling safer, she hurried down the corridors. Ten minutes later, she reached the small pressure chamber. She pushed the grav unit with the corpse through the airlock hatch, stepped out, shut the hatch and opened the outer one right away. She hadn’t drained the atmosphere for a reason. Rushing out, the airlock atmosphere would propel the sled and corpse into space.

She reversed the airlock process, waited until the atmosphere had equalized in the airlock chamber, and then opened the inner hatch. It was empty, devoid of the incriminating evidence. There was some blood, though, on the floor, three drops to be precise.

“I’ll take care of that,” she muttered.

Even though she felt spent, Kris soon cleaned the deck with an old-fashioned mop, squeezing it into a bucket. She cleaned the airlock and retraced her route, wiping away droplets of blood wherever she found them.

It took her an hour and ten minutes to make sure. She was mentally exhausted after that.

I could use a drink.

After putting away the mop and bucket, she went to the galley and selected a cold beer. She sat in the tiny cafeteria, savoring each sip. Once she was done, she debated having another.

Yes, I think I will. I’ve certainly earned it.

In the middle of sipping the second beer, Kris cocked her head. Why hadn’t she seen the other two at any time in the corridors? Wasn’t that odd?

She took a longer sip, soon guzzling the rest. She didn’t want to waste the beer. Two on an empty stomach had begun affecting her, though, but in a good way. She felt much calmer, much less troubled over the killing and blood cleaning.

She smiled as she stood, picked up the bottle and put it in a dispensary. Feeling nicely buzzed, she headed for the crew quarters. She would knock on the cabin hatches and see if the other two had been sleeping. That would be best—

Kris stopped in the middle of a corridor. She stopped because she heard a footfall, a boot, a heavy one. She creased her forehead thoughtfully.

The engineer and tech were both skinny men. She doubted they—

There it was again, a heavy footfall.

Despite the buzz—it was already dissipating—she knew better than to call out. Her mouth was open just the same, and she ached to call and see if anyone was there. She leaned forward, straining to hear. Yes, she heard someone walking, and she heard a scrape of metal on metal.

Her heart started pounding—the buzz was gone. All the crew wore soft-soled boots or shoes.  The walker had a different kind of boot. It was on the tip of her tongue the kind of—

“Oh,” she whispered. She’d heard something like that not so very long ago. Boots against concrete—

“Johan,” she whispered. The bastard of a prison guard must be aboard the Bombay. But that was outrageous. Why would he—?

Never mind, Kris told herself, knowing why he was aboard.

She swallowed hard and began walking toward the footfalls. She didn’t hear them anymore. Had Johan killed the other two? Would Spengler and Johan have planned to take the Bombay somewhere and sell it to space pirates perhaps?

Kris walked softly, dreading coming upon Corporal Johan. Would she have to shoot him?

Drawing the blaster from her waistband, she gripped it so tightly that her gun hand began to ache. She looked at it and noticed her hand trembled.

Well. There was nothing she could do about that.

She continued heading down the corridor. She strained to hear him. She—

Footfalls came toward her, causing her stomach to twist into a knot. Looking around, she spied a hatch, hurried to it, opening it and manually closing it until only a tiny crack showed. She pressed her body against it so she could peer through the crack.

Kris waited, the stomach knot tightening, tightening—she heard his boots click against something on the floor. Then he passed her hiding location—Johan! He was a short, stocky man with a brown flight jacket, black pants and the boots he’d worn in the prison. He wore a hat with a short bill. He’d shaved the back of his head so two folds of flesh showed. He was a disgusting pig of a man.

Her hand reached for the hatch switch and froze. She was trembling, feeling sick, wanting to vomit. It struck her that she hadn’t vomited after killing Spengler.

“Now,” Kris whispered, pressing a finger against the switch.

The hatch slid open, she stepped out with the blaster ready and faced Johan as the man turned his head to glance over his shoulder. He must have heard the hatch opening.

“If you turn around,” Kris heard herself say, “I’ll kill you.” She didn’t say, “I’ll shoot you,” but, “I’ll kill you.” She was shocked at how calm her voice sounded.

Johan stared at her like that, his thick round face twisted to the left so he could peer over a shoulder.

“I don’t think—” he said.

“Drop the blaster. Do it now, or you’re dead.”

He bit his lower lip as his dark eyes swirled with indecision. Clearly, he wasn’t enjoying this.

“Fine,” she said, bringing the blaster higher as she used both hands to hold it. “Spengler is dead. You can join him in space if you like.”

“What are you talking about?”

Kris’s trigger finger fractionally tightened.

“Wait!” Johan shouted, perhaps seeing the finger tightening or sensing it. His unseen blaster clattered against the deck at his feet.

“Kick it away,” Kris said.

Johan waited a half-beat, then he kicked blindly, and the blaster slid across the corridor deck away from him.

“Good,” Kris said, feeling lightheaded but in control. Don’t screw this up. If you screw this up, he’ll kill you. “Lie on the floor.”

“Kris,” he said. “Let’s talk about this, huh?”

“On the floor, you bastard,” she said. “I don’t mind shooting you in the back. I should just gun you down and be done with it.”

Did Johan hear something new in her voice? Something serious, something deadly? He must have because he dropped prone as if doing calisthenics.

“Arms behind your back,” she said, her mouth bone-dry.

He obeyed, struggling to put his thick short arms behind his back.

Kris took a step closer to him. She didn’t have handcuffs, although she had her belt. Could she tie his wrists together with that? No. He might twist around and try to grapple with her as she tied. To attempt it would not be smart on her part.

“If you move, you bastard, I’ll kill you.”

“Lady, take it easy. I’m doing what you asked.”

“Shut up,” she said. “Don’t talk to me unless I tell you to.”

He said nothing.

Kris approached him, the blaster held with both hands. She also studied him, noticing that he watched her. Would he kick out his feet?

“Oh,” she said, having an idea. “Take off your jacket. Then take off your boots, pants and shirt. Toss them away from you one at a time.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m not stripping for you.”

“You want to die?”

“Can you shoot me if I’m lying on the floor like this?”

“Maybe,” Kris said. “I know you came to kill me, or to make sure Spengler did his job.”

“Who is this Spengler?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Your boot camp buddy, I guess.”

“The idiot. Did he tell you that?”

“Oh, he spilled his guts. Told me everything. Start taking off your clothes. This is your last chance.”

“And then?” he asked. “What happens after that?”

“After that,” Kris said, “I’m taking you to the brig.”

Johan’s head twisted more so he could look at her better. Whatever he saw, he lay flatter on the floor and finally nodded. “Sure, lady, I can do that. You want to put me in the brig, huh?”

“Shut up,” she said. “Just do what I tell you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a tough broad. I got time, though, sister. You better remember that.”

“If you don’t strip fast enough, I’ll remember, but you’ll be dead.”

“You got the balls to kill me?” Johan asked. “I doubt it. But I’ll go with your bluff for now. By the way, what really happened to Spengler?”

“Uh-uh,” she said. “Do what I say. After you’re in the brig, I’ll tell you.”

“Promise?” he asked, with a hint of deceit in his voice.

“Yes,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t try anything stupid so she’d have to kill him and go through the Spengler routine with him. Johan looked heavier than Spengler, and she wasn’t sure she could drag his carcass onto another anti-gravity sled. Did they even have another one?

Pay attention, Kris. He thinks he’s tricky. She nodded, watching him closely, readying to fire if he did anything even slightly suspicious.

-5-

The truth was that Kris Guderian was afraid of Corporal Johan. He had pitiless little pig eyes, and she felt soiled whenever he looked at her. She was certain that he’d beaten more than a few inmates to death during the time of HMD ascendency. He would have used a baton as his fellow prison guards held the victim down.

Fortunately, Johan was presently locked away in one of the three tiny cells in the brig. She’d reset the code to the chamber so neither the engineer or computer tech could gain admittance. She hadn’t forbidden them to go there. She hadn’t told them about Spengler or Johan either.

In truth, she seldom saw the other two. The engineer remained in the lower deck, servicing and watching the main engine. The tech—she didn’t know what he did. He stayed in his quarters most of the time, likely playing video games. So far, she hadn’t questioned Johan, not even remotely through an intercom. She made sure he automatically received water and concentrates in his cell and that was it. He had a toilet and sink. If he committed suicide due to despair, fine. If he tried to escape, alarms would sound, and gas would flood the cells.

Kris spent most of her time on the bridge as the Bombay neared the 82 G. Eridani System. Maybe it was foolish to continue with the mission. Maybe Commodore Smits had been in on all this, but she didn’t know that. What she did know was that Smits had given her a mission because government people from Olmstead had come to the nearest star base with a problem. It was her kind of problem, too. If she could figure it out, might that help really reinstate her into a proper ship command?

The idea fired Kris’s imagination. It had been so many years now since she’d run a Star Watch ship. After Methuselah Man Strand had captured her…

She shook her head as she sat at the Bombay’s piloting board. She didn’t want to think about Strand or the years of psychiatric treatment. The doctors had finally given her a clean bill of mental health. Then the HMD had come along and torpedoed her. Now, though, in this new era—

“Stop,” she told herself. It was time to concentrate on the mission. She could worry about the future later.

She got up and went to one of the two science stations on the bridge and downloaded the information the people from Olmstead had given Smits.

Kris studied the electronic readings from the asteroid belt that a battleship probe had picked up several weeks ago but could find nothing familiar about them. The signals were faint, odd and without a visible source, and definitely in the system’s main asteroid belt. Afterward, she looked at data concerning two missing asteroids. They were simply gone, and they were among the largest ten present in the belt.

Where could asteroids go? One could blow them up, or attach huge engines and theoretically drive them somewhere, but to simply disappear…no, that shouldn’t be possible.

She read the data three times but couldn’t conclude anything other than the obvious. The strange electronic readings had something to do with the disappeared asteroids. Well, there was also a scientific explanation for all this. It would be her task to find out what. Could she do it crippled as she was with a two-man crew and herself aboard a frigate?

***

Thirty-two hours later, Kris Guderian bent over a printed chart on the bridge as she examined a physical map of the 82 G. Eridani System Main Asteroid Belt. She found that using a physical map sometimes helped her see things she might otherwise miss.

The Bombay was in the star system, in the asteroid belt at the stated position where Asteroid Theta C/22 was supposed to be. Kris tapped the chart with a fingernail. Then, she looked out the polarized window. There was nothing out there, no Theta C/22 Asteroid with a 56-kilometer width and 92-kilometer length. All the laws of physics said the asteroid should be here or at least visible. So why wasn’t it?

Kris bit her lower lip, thinking.

The 82 G. Eridani System was twenty light-years from Earth and eight and a half light-years from Alpha Sigma 9. The 82 G. Eridani System had a main sequence star with a stellar classification G6 V. The star was slightly smaller and less massive than the Sun, and marginally dimmer in luminosity. It was a high-velocity star—moving more quickly than average—and was thus a member of Population II. None of that should matter to the problem. The system’s asteroid belt was located 740-820 million kilometers from the star, about the distance Jupiter was from the Sun. The second terrestrial planet, Olmsted, was a cold world with approximately 650 million people, mostly of Scandinavian and Russian ancestry. There were a few defensive satellites orbiting Olmsted along with a Star Watch Bismarck-class battleship.

She hadn’t learned yet why there were no escorts or destroyers with it. She hadn’t yet contacted the battleship, nor had it contacted her, which was odd, come to think of it.

Despite its nearness to Earth, 82 G. Eridani was considered a backwater system, providing plenty of fur trappers, miners and beer distillers and some of the best chess players in Human Space, but that was about it.

There were supposed to be several more missing asteroids. Should she call the battleship? The distance would mean delayed messaging. Perhaps the battleship’s captain hadn’t wanted to mess with that. Perhaps its sensor operator had already told the battleship captain that the Bombay was a Star Watch science vessel.

“This is weird,” Kris said aloud.

She hunched over the science board and began using the ultra-powerful sensor array. She hunted with radar, thermal imaging, radiation detection—all kinds of sensors. At no point did she discover anything that might indicate an asteroid or explain a missing asteroid.

“Wait,” she whispered. What was this? It was a faint electrical pulse.

Her fingers flew across the panel. The faint pulse matched what the battleship probe had detected several weeks ago. It came from two million kilometers away, and it—

Her panel beeped as the sensors detected an asteroid that hadn’t been there a second ago.

Kris’s eyes bugged outward as she cursed with amazement. The asteroid did not slowly move about the belt as the others did. This sucker moved in a straight line, traveling at—

“This can’t be right,” she whispered.

The asteroid was traveling at 25 percent light-speed. Its diameter was… Kris manipulated faster, starting to feel sick. According to the sensors, the asteroid’s diameter was 510 kilometers.

What the hell? The 510 kilometers was familiar. Why was that? She ran a quick check. No… This was Asteroid Theta A/18 of the 82 G. Eridani System Main Asteroid Belt. It was, in fact, the largest of the belt and the first one missing.

“Where’s it going?” Kris muttered.

She made some calculations—her skin went cold. The damned racing asteroid was heading for a direct collision where the terrestrial planet Olmstead would be in…2.185 hours. Kris blinked repeatedly, her breathing rapid. The heavy asteroid was traveling 75,000 kilometers per second, one-quarter light-speed. That should be flatly impossible. How could it be doing that?

It disappeared for a time. During that time, it accelerated to one-quarter light-speed.

Kris sat back, dazed at the idea.

Her sensor board began to beep again. She snapped forward and checked. The weird electrical signal showed again, but at a different location. There was a slight wavering in space, and suddenly Asteroid Theta C/22 appeared.

“This has to be wrong. It’s impossible, flat impossible,” she said. Yet, I’m seeing it; the sensors are seeing it.

She ran the numbers, and, of course, they came up the same. The smaller asteroid was traveling at 25 percent light-speed, and it was on a direct collision course for Olmstead.

The breath went out of Kris as she remembered one of her high school science lessons. The asteroid that was thought to have killed the dinosaurs on Earth had been a mere ten kilometers in diameter. It hadn’t been 510 kilometers in diameter, and it certainly had not been traveling at one-quarter light-speed. The dinosaur-killing asteroid had not been traveling even close to that.

“Annihilation,” Kris said in a dull voice. “If these monsters hit Olmstead—”

She closed her eyes, thinking it through. If the Theta C/22 Asteroid hit, it would deeply crack the planet. If the Theta A/18 Asteroid hit soon thereafter…it would shatter the cracked planet into chunks, pieces, with masses of debris.

She opened her eyes as the import of what she saw slammed home with interest. The two zooming asteroids were on a direct collision course with Olmstead. That meant someone or something had aimed the 25 percent light-speed traveling asteroids, which indicated deliberate action and high technology, much higher technology than Star Watch possessed.

In a daze, Kris rose, heading to the piloting board. It was time to make the call to Olmstead’s orbiting battleship.

-6-

The feeling that she had been through this before was strong to the point of déjà vu. That had been years ago when Betty Artemis had been her pilot aboard the Osprey. Then, a Destroyer of the Nameless Ones had sliced and diced the planet of New Arabia with an amazingly huge beam. Now—Kris had no idea who or what was doing this evil.

Kris had just gotten off the comm with the captain of the Koniggratz, a stern old man with the last name of Joseph. The Koniggratz was a Bismarck-class battleship and was already charging away from Olmstead to intercept the first asteroid.

That was a joke, though. Captain Joseph planned to use nuclear-tipped missiles against the thing. If there were a dozen battleships and they reached the asteroid as far away from Olmstead as possible, maybe they could hammer it with nukes and alter its course just enough to nudge it away from a collision. But one battleship as the asteroid neared Olmstead…forget about it.

Kris was recording everything she could. Star Watch had to learn about this. Who would do such a thing? Who had the technology to try?

Kris shook her head. She had no idea. It was happening, though. That was the point.

Time seemed to slow down and yet speed up at the same time. Kris moved slowly about the bridge, trying to dredge up something she could do to save the 650 million inhabitants of Olmstead. She could just imagine the panic in the slushy streets. She moaned in sympathy for them, and she was surprised to discover that her cheeks were wet.

Who could blame her, though? This was the death of a planet and millions upon millions of innocent people. It was one thing to see soldiers die in battle. It was another having millions of innocent victims perish.

The clock to Armageddon ticked down for the planet of Olmstead. And Kris had a panoramic view as she sat on the bridge of the Bombay.

Of course, just as the Koniggratz launched its first missile, another asteroid appeared—another hurtling mass of doom.

Kris recorded everything she was witnessing.

A Koniggratz missile reached Theta A/18, detonating against it. Debris blew off the asteroid from a tiny fraction of the mass, and it did nothing to change the monster’s collision course.

Three more missiles reached Theta A/18, and there was the tiniest deviation to the asteroid’s flight.

Now, five missiles roared at the asteroid together—Kris was laugh-crying. Maybe this would work. Maybe she was about to witness a miracle. Maybe—

Laser beams speared out from the asteroid. The hot beams struck each missile in turn, melting and slagging them, rendering the nuclear warheads inert. The junk slammed against the asteroidal surface, but still did not change the asteroid’s course.

“Lasers?” asked Kris, dumbfounded. “From an asteroid?”

She rushed to the nearer science board and studied what she could of Theta A/18. She found more hidden laser batteries just under the surface.

She went cold. This was deliberate murder, mass murder of 650 million inhabitants. The launcher of the asteroid—

“Yes, someone fired or launched the asteroid at Olmstead,” she said aloud to herself.

Kris swallowed and silently vowed to get this data to Star Watch. She was more than awed and terrified. She was beginning to get angry.

For the next quarter-hour, she worked efficiently and quickly, recording, sending out packets and buoys to make sure someone in Star Watch received the data.

“Aha,” she said a little later. Maybe Commodore Smits and perhaps the warden of the Alpha Sigma 9 military prison had nothing to do with Spengler and Corporal Johan. Maybe the villains behind the zooming, laser-armed asteroids were behind the attempt on her life. If so, however, why had they used such losers?

Kris stared at the sensor screen. She wasn’t seeing this in real time, but several minutes later. The distance to Olmstead and the speed of light mandated that.

Asteroid Theta A/18 sped for Olmstead, neared it and then struck the upper stratosphere. The friction made the plunging giant asteroid red-hot. That lasted a short time as the huge mass of stone, ores and other matter slammed at 25 percent light-speed—75,000 kilometers per second—against the larger object of Olmstead with a diameter of 12,860 kilometers.

A/18 hit, and a terrific explosion rocked the planet and created instant cracks that went kilometers deep and kept splintering. The hot mantle spurted up all over the planet. The lava continued to surge and poured across the shaking surface.

Asteroid Theta C/22 struck next, zooming down and hammering the planet. The planetary cracks deepened and lengthened. It was doubtful anyone was alive on Olmstead, meaning that 650 million people had just died.

Olmstead would soon no longer be one mass, one planet, as yet another asteroid hit, this one with a 231-kilometer diameter.

“No,” Kris whispered.

The final asteroid slamming against Olmstead did it, breaking the planetary mass into pieces. There were five big ones and a host of smaller pieces and then debris, masses of debris beginning to spread outward.

She’d just witnessed the death, the destruction of a planet by giant asteroids traveling far faster than was possible without artificial help. How could such masses have gained such velocity in such a relatively short time and without any visible thrusters on any of them?

“Why?” Kris whispered. Why had these hidden foes done it? What purpose could it serve?

Kris wiped away tears. She had no idea, but she knew that she must, absolutely must get this data to Star Watch Headquarters on Earth.

That meant—

Her science board began to beep. It was hard to focus on it, but she began manipulating… “No,” she whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

Faint electronic signals or readings pulsed near the Koniggratz, the Bismarck-class battleship. It was far enough away that none of the debris or planetary chunks had hit it.

Was another asteroid about to appear from nowhere, smashing against the Star Watch vessel? Kris was starting to expect it—when the battleship slid out of sight. The front section disappeared first…as if it entered a different realm or reality. The process went fast, and then the Koniggratz was gone.

Kris’s fingers flew over the sensor panel as she tried to pick up some semblance of a reason—

Her board beeped again, as the same electronic signals pulsed and then vanished. They came from where the battleship had just disappeared.

Kris sat back, frowning, trying to understand— “Of course,” she said. “I’m an idiot. It’s obvious what that is.”

The electrical pulses showed an opening of some kind that appeared and disappeared. When it opened, a battleship disappeared, or an asteroid appeared. The previous signals that the probe had found several weeks ago were the openings as the asteroids vanished into whatever realm or place they did. In that realm, apparently, asteroids accelerated to 25 percent light-speed and were then spat back out, carefully aimed.

“A planet killer,” she whispered. “I’ve seen the operations of a planet killer.”

Kris sat bolt upright. Why had the people, aliens, whoever operated the hidden thing, made the battleship disappear? One obvious reason was to keep any knowledge about the planetary destruction a secret.

“Shit,” Kris said. If they took the Koniggratz, why won’t they take the Bombay?

Kris stood, turned and stumbled to the piloting board. She had to get out of here, fast. Plopping onto the seat, she set a course and engaged the engine, turning the Bombay and heading out-system. As a small science frigate, the Bombay did not have a star drive, but used a Laumer Drive and Laumer Points.

She could go farther out and use a Laumer Point that would take her to Earth after a few hops, or she could head to the nearest Laumer Point and get out of the star system as fast as possible. It would take her longer to reach Earth using that star-line route. So which choice should she make?

She sat there, thinking, thinking—

The science board began to beep. Kris turned her head toward it. She didn’t want to check it because she had a good idea what it meant.

“Dammit Kris, you’re in Star Watch,” she told herself.

She jumped up on unsteady legs and went to the science board. The faint signals were all around the Bombay. She spat an oath and spun on her heels. Then she broke into a sprint.

She raced through the corridors, pain knifing her side and her breath ragged. She wasn’t in any kind of shape, not after four months in a military-prison cell.

She turned a corner, ran and crashed against an emergency hatch. Frantic, wondering if it was already too late, she opened the hatch, grabbed the bar and thrust her legs through the opening. She slid a short way, plopping into a tiny lifeboat, an escape pod. She threw herself at the seat, strapped in and pulled a lever. The pod ejected, slamming her back against the seat. The pod sailed for several kilometers before Kris caught her breath. She was praying silently, asking God for mercy.

“Please let me live. Please let me live.”

It occurred to her a few seconds later that she hadn’t warned the others on the Bombay. Johan was in the brig, the engineer was in the engine area and the computer tech was probably in his room watching porn. She should have warned them. Was it too late? If she radioed the Bombay, would the hidden aliens pick that up and find her?

Kris sat there indecisive. Finally, she switched on a passive sensor, studying her surroundings. She looked, looked more, and realized with sick dread that she did not see the Bombay even though she was searching the correct area.

Might she have slipped into the strange realm instead of the Bombay and that was why she couldn’t find the frigate?

With the passive sensors, she studied where the planet Olmstead should be. Her stomach tightened as she spied the broken chunks that had recently been a planet. She was still in the 82 G. Eridani System. But that must mean the aliens—or whoever—had taken the Bombay through the opening and into their realm. That meant she was stranded in a dead star system. The only person that knew she was here was Commodore Smits, and whom was he going to tell if he didn’t have to?

Had she just made the worst decision of her career, her life?

Kris looked around the tiny pod. Her prison cell on Alpha Sigma 9 had been bigger than this.

“Stay calm,” she whispered.

She tried, but groaned, closing her eyes. She had priceless data for Star Watch. But would anyone come looking to find her before the strange aliens with their secret super-weapon struck again and destroyed another populated world?

It looked like she still had her rotten luck and that she had changed essentially nothing about her life.

-7-

THREE MONTHS LATER IN THE NEAR BEYOND

Fifty-nine light-years from the bubble of territory known as Human Space was the Haven System. In Commonwealth and Star Watch terms, the system was in the Beyond.

With the active exploration by the Patrol Arm of Star Watch, the Spacers and even the New Men of the Throne World, much of the Near Beyond was mapped and well known. That included the notorious Haven System.

The notoriety came from the dwarf planet Tortuga, which orbited the main sequence star at roughly 442,000,000 kilometers. In Solar System terms, that put it in the Asteroid Belt region.

Tortuga was notorious for several reasons, one being the asteroidal-debris cloud that orbited the dwarf planet in a puzzling maze up to four hundred thousand kilometers from the surface. The dense and shifting mass of debris clouds, rocks and asteroids made it dangerous for any ship or shuttle to reach Tortuga from space. The wrecked and demolished ships and shuttles that had tried and failed to negotiate the maze orbited the pirate lair with the rest of the debris, possibly as a reminder to others to leave the dwarf planet’s denizens in peace. As an aside, those living on Tortuga—or a small minority, at least—knew the secret to negotiating the orbiting maze. That minority made its living hauling people and goods through the ever-shifting mass.

That was the second reason for Tortuga’s notoriety: the space pirates and shady dealers who used the dwarf planet as a stronghold and clearing house.

A group called the Brethren ran Tortuga, patterned no doubt from the historical “Brethren of the Coast” who had used the Haitian isle of Tortuga in the Pre-Space days of Earth during the Age of Piracy. The Brethren was a loose coalition of pirate captains, former privateers, as well as Spacer, New Men and Star Watch renegades and others who wanted to live beyond anyone else’s strictures.

The Brethren sold many fascinating and unusual items and had as many interesting and unusual customers. Respectable merchants occasionally sought out Tortuga or brought ransom to free kidnap victims. The reason why Star Watch, the New Men and others left the Brethren in peace was partly due to the dense asteroidal-debris maze surrounding the dwarf planet and partly because of the heavily armed and strategically placed satellites circling Tortuga’s near-orbital space behind the debris cloud.

As Professor Ludendorff had pointed out to Captain Maddox several days ago, Star Watch could certainly send the Grand Fleet to burn each asteroid and debris cloud out of the way. But the cost in time and money would bring small strategic rewards. Not that Maddox had asked for an explanation, but the good professor had given it anyway. Ludendorff had also pointed out that the same calculus held true for the main New Man Fleet.

Starship Victory orbited the asteroidal-debris cloud, keeping well out of the way of any stray particles. The double oval, ancient Adok starship wasn’t alone in this. There were a dozen space haulers, two giant ones from corporations located in the Commonwealth of Planets. There were thirty-one smaller merchant vessels and an odd assortment of questionable spaceships that could have been designated as pirate ships. There were also two star cruisers, the signature New Man vessel, and two other battleship-sized warships of unknown origin and three former Star Watch vessels. The battleships could possibly have been Brethren ships or former, heavily modified Star Watch Bismarck-class warships. It was quite possible that the former SWS vessels were operated by Humanity Manifesto-believing crews who had decided it was time to leave the Commonwealth and the coming punishments.

Those Star Watch-renegade ships and personnel had nothing to do with Victory’s arrival several days ago. Instead, Captain Maddox had been following a lead, a trail made by Vint Diem the ex-Spacer adept who had eluded the captain on several previous occasions. Maddox had almost captured the adept on Pandora at the Carlota Casino, when a New Man agent had convinced the captain to let Diem go. Diem had once worked for Lord Drakos. Maddox wanted to find out whom Diem worked for now. He also wanted to know why Diem had been on Earth not so long ago.

Victory orbited the debris mass, nearly 500,000 kilometers from the dwarf planet. Lieutenant Valerie Noonan was temporarily in charge of the ship and waited on the bridge for the captain to make his next scheduled call, which was supposed to occur in 52 minutes.

The captain had left Victory 49.3 hours ago, boarding a Tortuga shuttle. Sergeant Riker had gone with him, the only member of the crew to do so.

There was one other matter of notoriety to Tortuga, one less well known. The Brethren had several pieces of advanced and possibly alien technology. The key one in this instance was a jamming device that among other things could keep Galyan from projecting his holoimage more than fifty thousand kilometers into the outer debris field. In other words, Galyan could not help Maddox by projecting himself onto Tortuga.

Strictly speaking, Maddox was not on Tortuga. The dwarf planet had a negligible and quite unbreathable atmosphere. It was like the dwarf planet Ceres in most ways. The captain and sergeant were inside the warren of tunnels and corridors that made up the inhabited part of Tortuga.

As Valerie waited for the scheduled call—when the Brethren would stop jamming for twenty seconds—the captain and sergeant hurried through a dim dwarf-planetary tunnel, heading for an even lower and more dangerous level…

-8-

Captain Maddox led the way as Sergeant Riker struggled to keep up. The captain was a tall lean man with muscles like bands of steel. He was only part New Man, not fully so, as he hadn’t gotten the needed prenatal injections that would have given his skin a golden hue and added to his strength, reflexes and possibly intelligence. He’d absorbed something else recently, however: the spiritual energy of an alien Erill entity he’d slain. That energy gave Maddox even greater vitality, putting him on an equal footing with a New Man in a fist- or knife-fight, for instance.

Maddox wore dark garments and boots, including a short cape and full-face breathing mask that acted like a fish’s gills. It gathered oxygen from the otherwise unbreathable air. He’d purchased a nine-inch knife on Tortuga, having arrived weaponless as per the Brethren’s stipulations. The knife had a curved steel guard to protect his hand. He’d also purchased a powerful slingshot, the bands needing someone with his strength to pull. He had round steel pellets as ammo, and had practiced for a half-hour in the store’s shooting range after purchasing it.

The full-face breathing mask was critical in the dim tunnel, as it lacked breathable air, although the tunnel did possess enough atmosphere that clothes were sufficient protection from the cold.

Maddox and Riker were headed to a lower level, an older one where people practiced unusual customs and habits. The two of them used an old roundabout way that Maddox had discovered yesterday. His discovery had resulted from inflicting painful coercion on a Tortuga denizen. They used the route in order to surprise Vint Diem, in case the ex-Spacer was trying to hide from them in the lower level. Naturally, the captain believed Diem was attempting exactly that.

Among other things, the lower level contained the holding pens for kidnap and sex-trade victims and was home to several exotic drug factories.

As Maddox hurried, he seethed inwardly, certain that Vint Diem knew they were coming. He’d busted a few heads yesterday and had broken three fingers and an arm before the man he’d interrogated had howled what Maddox wanted to know. The captain had a personal reason for wanting Diem, certain the ex-Spacer adept could give him the data he needed to restore his grandmother to chief of Star Watch Intelligence. In other words, Diem would know how to correct the tampering with Mary O’Hara’s brain.

“Sir,” Riker panted from a considerable length behind, using his shortwave transmitter.

The old sergeant wasn’t in the same shape he used to be, and even then, he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with an anxious and swift-moving Maddox. Everyone thought the sergeant should have retired some time ago, but he just couldn’t do it. He had leathery skin, a limp, a bionic eye, arm and hand to replace those he’d lost in an explosion many years ago in the Tau Ceti System. He’d originally worked with Maddox at the order of older, wiser heads in Intelligence, doing so to keep an eye on the impetuous young man and keep him from doing anything too unorthodox. Like the captain, the sergeant wore a full-face mask, dark garments and boots. He hadn’t rated a cape, though.

“Sir,” Riker panted again, “if you’d slow down for just a moment, I’d appreciate it.”

Maddox halted abruptly, turning around, staring through the vision-ports of his breathing mask. Riker was farther behind than he’d realized.

As Maddox waited, he looked around. Miners had long ago chiseled out the tunnel into living rock. They might not even have been human miners, as the tunnel was much larger than it needed to be, and there were no signs of any mechanical units using the tunnels. Humans—Brethren personnel—had installed glow bulbs along the sides thirty-odd years ago. These were now dim, as no one had ever replaced them since their installation.

Riker’s chest heaved as he approached, the old sergeant slowing down. He finally put his gloved hands on his knees, breathing hard.

Maddox eyed the sergeant and then looked around again, his manner more alert. Someone is watching us. The captain hunched his shoulders. Someone watched and—“Down!” Maddox shouted, leaping the distance to Riker and dragging the sergeant to the rock floor.

A flicker of something tiny hissed overhead.

“Why did you do that?” Riker complained. “I hurt my left knee hitting the rock.”

Maddox closed his eyes, reaching out with his Erill-energy-heightened senses. The captain’s masked face turned sharply to the right. He opened his eyes, felt a trigger moving, and shoved Riker away as he rolled in the other direction.

Another tiny thing hissed, striking the rock floor between them and ricocheting away.

“That’s enough of that,” Maddox snarled, springing to his feet.

“Sir, don’t do it. He has a gun.”

Maddox accelerated back in the direction they had come. Someone was following them, taking potshots. Within the full-face mask, the captain grinned harshly. He drew the slingshot. While on the run, he inserted a steel pellet into the synthetic pouch and kept a keen eye out for a target.

There was a flicker of movement ahead.

With a jerk, Maddox dodged left. Something tiny hissed past him, tearing the cloth of his black jacket sleeve.

The flicker of movement—Maddox concentrated on the area ahead. He spied a humanoid shape. The assassin tucked a rifle against his shoulder and aimed carefully, deliberately, as if he possessed all the aces in this fight because he was the only one with a gun.

While sprinting, Maddox smoothly drew back the tough flexible bands of his slingshot, sighted the assassin and released. The steel pellet flashed across the distance between them. It missed the man, striking the rock beside him. The sound must have made the shooter flinch, however, as the gun barrel rose minutely as something hissed out of it.

The projectile didn’t even come close to Maddox this time.

Did the sound unnerve the attacker even more? The full-face masked assassin turned to his left where the pellet had struck. He eyed the rock too long, for when he turned back toward Maddox—

The captain heard the assassin yelp. Maybe the man hadn’t understood how fast the captain could move. Maddox released the synthetic pouch a second time, the steel pellet striking true, hitting the assassin’s forehead with considerable force.

The shooter collapsed onto the rock floor.

Maddox reached the shooter as the man began to stir. Perhaps he spied the captain’s boots near him. The shooter roared an oath from upon the floor, and then raised his spring-rifle. Maddox kicked, striking the front of the barrel, knocking the weapon out of the man’s hands so it went flying backward.

The shooter began to rise as he reached for a belt knife—

Maddox kicked again, savagely, connecting with the man’s masked chin. In this instance, the captain kicked too hard. The man’s head snapped back as if something rotten and brittle cracked. The man loosed an awful groan as he began to flop about like a dead chicken.

Maddox rushed past the dying man and picked up the spring-rifle, removing the magazine. It had several tiny odd-shaped bullets. The captain removed one, inspecting the tip. These were darts, possibly tranquilizer darts.

Putting the dart back, reinserting the magazine, he raised the rifle, using the scope, peering through the dim corridor, seeing perfectly well now. He aimed farther behind him, following the path back toward the higher level. To his surprise, Maddox saw a black-clad man with a mask. The man was running away even though he had a spring-rifle of his own.

Two assassins—or perhaps kidnappers—had tracked him, one of them cowardly or overcautious.

Thoughtfully, Maddox returned to the dead first shooter. Maddox knelt and tore away the breathing mask. He was nondescript, with a bulbous nose and lank dark hair.

Silently, Maddox checked the corpse, finding no cards or ID. The shooter did have a knife, a Tortuga-bought weapon similar to his own.

Memorizing the type of knife and spring-rifle, Maddox placed them on the corpse. He hadn’t purchased a Tortuga license for firearms, which included spring-rifles, and so he wouldn’t keep this one. Interestingly, the dead shooter hadn’t possessed a license either, at least none the captain could find.

Maddox stood and began heading back to where he’d left Riker. After a moment, the captain said through the short-wave transmitter, “Sergeant.”

There was no answer.

Under the mask, Maddox glowered. “Sergeant Riker, answer me at once.”

The old hand of Star Watch Intelligence did no such thing.

Inserting another pellet into the slingshot pouch, Maddox hurried, straining to see in the dim lighting. There was something small on the floor up ahead.

It was a coin, a gold one.

Maddox picked it up, recognizing it. The coin belonged to Riker. The sergeant figured it as a good luck charm. Riker would never leave this unless—

“A sign,” Maddox whispered to himself.

Clearly, something or someone had jumped the sergeant, but the old Intelligence hand had had enough presence of mind to slip the coin onto the floor…but had not had enough time to use the short-range transmitter to shout a warning. No. That made no sense. Thus, whoever had surprised Riker had used a dampening or jamming device. And that meant—

“A trap,” Maddox whispered. The old roundabout way had been a trap. The kidnappers hadn’t caught him, but they had caught his sergeant.

“Right,” Maddox whispered, his stomach tightening. This had to be a sign that he was on the right track of Vint Diem. With a snarl, Maddox began to hunt.

-9-

The problem was that it was too dim in here for proper searching. Maddox paused, having traveled half a kilometer since discovering that Riker was missing.

Maddox bent his head in thought. He spun around a moment later and began to sprint back the way he’d come. He should have taken the spring-rifle’s scope to see more clearly down here. He ran hard, recognized the location where Riker had been kidnapped, racing past to the spot—

Maddox halted, looking around. The dead shooter and his spring-rifle were gone. Someone had picked them up. He peered closely at the rock floor, soon finding one of the steel pellets he’d fired from the slingshot. This was the correct location.

Scowling, the captain realized he’d been racing one way and then the other, wasting precious time.

“Confused?” a man asked.

Maddox whirled around—surprised he hadn’t heard the cloaked, masked man approach.

“Who are you?” Maddox asked.

The man was big, tall and heavy like a Bosk fighter. He wore a full-face mask, dark garments, cape and boots. He held a knife in his right hand, a darkened blade. The other hand was empty.

“I asked you a question,” Maddox said.

“I know you did. I simply don’t care to answer.”

“Why are you here?”

“That should be obvious: to pick you up.”

“You and who else?” asked Maddox.

“I don’t need anyone else to kick your ass, pretty boy.”

Maddox drew the slingshot from his belt. The big man bellowed, rushing the captain, slashing with the knife. Astonished at the man’s speed—especially given his bulk—Maddox parried with the metal slingshot. The knife struck it, the blow jarring the captain’s hand. The edge also cut one of the bands, rendering the slingshot useless.

“Surrender while you can,” the big man said.

Maddox jumped back as he drew his own knife with a tingling hand. He barely pulled the weapon in time as the big man rushed upon him once more, the dark knife flashing in the dim lighting. Maddox twisted and shifted the knife, the two weapons clanging against each other, each nicking the other blade. Once again, the big man’s strength jarred the captain’s knife hand.

“You can never beat me, pretty boy. I’m faster, stronger and far deadlier than a puss like you.”

Maddox backpedalled and assumed a knife-fighter’s crouch. The man was trying to goad him. Good luck with that.

“I was designed to defeat you,” the man boasted.

Maddox didn’t like the sound of that, but it was intriguing. “Designed how and by whom?” he asked.

The big man laughed, faking a lunge.

Maddox reacted swiftly, blocking where no blow had come. He realized with a shock that the other had shaken his confidence, gotten inside his head a bit. The captain inhaled and exhaled several times. Extreme concentration was what he needed.

“You must realize by now that a higher intelligence has drawn you into a net,” the big man said. “I’m here to pick you up, to tie and cart you to a grim place. There, experiments will commence. You will never be the same, and not for the better, I assure you. Perhaps you’ll walk like a crab for the rest of your existence, using specially elongated lips to eat food, as you will no longer possess arms or hands.”

Maddox’s grip tightened around his knife handle.

“Why so silent, Captain? Are you frightened?”

“Thoroughly,” Maddox said.

“Mock all you want. You cannot defeat me.”

“Do you mind if I try?”

The big man laughed, lunging with lightning speed. For a long two minutes the men engaged in thrust and counter-thrust as they danced and jumped, circling, faking, slashing, clashing blades and panting at the strenuous exertion.

“You’re better than she said,” the big man panted after the two minutes of knife fighting, both of them backing away from the other.

“She?” asked Maddox.

“A slip of the tongue,” the big man said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t think it was a slip,” the captain said, beginning to circle the other. “I think you just made a mistake. Another mistake, I should say.”

“Another? What do you think was my first?”

“Trying to take me hand to hand.” Maddox shifted sideways. “Pride goes before a fall, they say.”

The big man turned to keep facing Maddox. “I’ve toyed with you long enough, Captain. Now—”

Maddox reached up and unpinned his cape. As the other spoke, the captain flung the cape. The big man shouted and slashed at the black material, momentarily putting him out of position. Maddox slid smoothly like a fencer, lunging to elongate his reach, his notched knife entering the man’s side point-first, sinking to the guard. The big man grunted, using an elbow to smash the captain’s head. Withdrawing the knife, Maddox staggered away. The big man slashed. Maddox barely avoided the slicing blade.

“You bastard,” the man said. “You cut me.”

“No. I killed you.”

“Wrong,” the man said, pressing the wound with his free hand, taking the hand away and staring at the blood. “Now, you will learn—”

Maddox hurled his knife, but it was unevenly balanced, and he’d misjudged the throw. The pommel struck the man on the full-face mask. He stumbled back, his arms wind-milling. Maddox charged and leaped feet-first, striking the man’s chest with the bottom of a booted foot. That hurled the big man off his feet, and he struck his upper back and head on the hard stone floor. The man’s knife flew from his hand and went skittering across the floor in the dark.

Maddox didn’t hesitate, but rushed past the man to the knife, picked it up, turned—

Three tiny darts struck his chest at the same time. He blinked, looked down at his chest and asked, “Was this the plan the entire time?”

No one answered the captain as dizziness threatened him. He shook his head, took a step toward the fallen big man and then passed out as he began falling to the tunnel floor.

-10-

Maddox’s head throbbed, as…as…he was dimly aware that four men carried him through a lit place. He was aware of this even as he kept his eyes shut. One man clutched each limb, carting him. The captain grew aware that he was no longer wearing a mask. He could breathe the air directly. It was warmer here, too.

Am I in a higher or lower level than before? He hoped it was higher.

He felt disoriented and groggy. Whatever tranquilizer they’d used on him must be wearing off. That brought up a point. His metabolism was much faster than a regular man’s and would thus burn off the trank effects sooner. Would they know that? Should he pretend to be out or—?

“No, you fools,” a woman said. “Toss him with the New Men.”

“But, your ladyship,” one of the carriers said. “He isn’t a New Man. Won’t they kill him?”

“With the Erill energy he’s absorbed, he’s as dangerous as a New Man,” the woman said. “That’s what the fight with Tobias has shown us.”

This was too much for the captain. He opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction of the woman’s voice. His eyesight was blurry, however. He saw a shape—then she must have walked around a corner and out of sight, as he no longer saw her vague humanoid shape.

“Look, he’s awake,” the left leg-carrier said.

“He should be woozy for another minute,” the right arm-holder said. “Let’s get him to the holding pen fast.”

Maddox didn’t bother asking questions, as he wasn’t sure he could yet. He squeezed his eyelids closed instead, concentrating on sight. He opened his eyes, willing the blurriness to depart. His will wasn’t working hard enough, because everything was still a blur.

Plan B, he decided. Maddox began to struggle, straining his arms and legs and twisting his torso, even if not very vigorously. He had to slow them down.

“Just a little farther,” the right arm-holder said.

Maddox willed himself to struggle harder.

“That won’t help you any,” the right arm-holder said.

Maddox’s lips thinned, and he groaned with effort.

“He’s a stubborn bastard,” the left leg-carrier said.

“Correct on both counts,” the right arm-holder said.

Maddox’s struggles increased.

“Just around this corner,” the arm-holder panted, his grip increasing each second.

“No, you don’t,” Maddox whispered.

The carriers halted suddenly. There was a shift in the way the man held his right arm. Someone might have pressed a switch because a nearby hatch hissed open.

“One…two…three…” the right arm-holder counted in cadence. The four of them swung the captain back and forth each time. At the end of “three,” they released.

Maddox twisted airborne, looking over at them. They were four humanoid blurs. Then, he plunged down, struck a—a chute, sliding a short way until he passed something and tumbled out onto a hard floor with a grunt.

“Ural,” a man shouted. “Look. Here’s another one.”

“What?” a different person said. “They tossed a subman in with us. That’s an insult.”

“No,” a voice said, one that Maddox recognized. “He’s Captain Maddox of Star Watch.”

“That’s Maddox?” another asked incredulously.

“Indeed,” a New Man said. Maddox recognized the voice. It was Golden Ural, and oddly enough, Maddox’s uncle by birth.

With his head throbbing, the captain sat up, looking around. The jar against the floor must have shaken something loose. His eyesight was returning. He saw four tall golden-skinned New Men standing around him. They each wore a dirty, silver-colored one-piece uniform, indicating at least a week or two of confinement. The tallest was Golden Ural, more handsome and dominating than the rest. Maddox happened to know that Ural was the cousin to the Emperor of the Throne World. Ural had also led the initial invasion of the Commonwealth when the New Men had invaded “C” Quadrant. That had been years ago. Back then, Admiral Fletcher of Fifth Fleet had faced them.

“Ural?” Maddox asked with a dry mouth. “What are you doing here?”

The others stared at Ural.

Golden Ural cleared his throat. “If you three would allow me, I’d like to speak privately with the captain.”

The other three New Men did not nod. They simply turned away; moving to a farther corner of the holding cell—if that was what this was.

“Let me give you a hand,” Ural said, reaching down.

Maddox grabbed the hand. Ural effortlessly hoisted him to his feet. Maddox swayed. Ural steadied him with a hand on the captain’s left elbow.

“This way,” Ural said.

The two moved through a narrow arch into a different portion of the cell. There was a big table with benches on each side. A pitcher and several metal cups were on the table. As they sat, Ural poured the captain liquid.

Maddox took the cup, paused and looked up at Ural.

“It’s only water,” Ural said.

Maddox drank greedily, only then realizing how thirsty he’d been.

“The trank is a diuretic,” Ural said.

Maddox looked up. “They tranquilized you four as well?”

“Yes,” Ural said, “five days ago. We still gave them a struggle because they miscalculated the dosages.” He shrugged. “It didn’t matter in the end.”

“Tortuga was a trap?”

Ural looked away and heaved a sigh. “We knew all this was designed to trap you. What we—what I failed to take into account was that part of the plan was meant to make me react so they could trap us, too.”

Maddox took the pitcher and poured himself more water, draining that as well. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re hunting for Vint Diem, are you not?”

“How do you know that?” Maddox asked. “Oh. I see. How clever, Uncle. This is your plan, isn’t it? Those were your people. Now that we’re prisoners together, I’m supposed to spill my guts to you. I wouldn’t expect such a plan from New Men, and that’s the beauty of it.”

Ural smiled, showing perfectly straight and white teeth. “I decided to take a hand in the matter. You’re correct about that. Becoming a prisoner myself and pumping you for data…not exactly.” Ural shook his head. “Instead, I was going to use you as bait in order to capture her while she attempted to capture you. Clearly, I did not succeed in that.”

“Her,” Maddox said. “The man I fought spoke of her as well.”

“Do you know about whom I speak?” Ural asked.

“Just that it’s a woman.”

Ural nodded. “At least I know a little more than you or Star Watch, small comfort at this juncture. Do you recall that I said the Throne World possesses the greatest intelligence service in existence?”

“I do. Yes.”

“It turns out we’re only second best. Hers is better. She set a trap for you, but also to trap me as well.”

“Her, she,” Maddox said, annoyed, “I’m getting tired of this. Who is she?”

“Oh. I thought that was obvious. We’re talking about Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers.”

Maddox straightened as a tinge of fear spiked. He remembered the woman who’d spoken earlier. “Meyers is here?”

“Not in this holding cell obviously,” Ural said. “But I do believe she is on or in Tortuga.”

Maddox blinked several times, astounded and appalled at the idea. Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers—the Liss Prime Saa had tried to bargain for its life by offering to give them data on her latest evil endeavor against the Commonwealth. Ludendorff and he had killed the Liss cyber instead, as that had been their original goal.

“Do you think Meyers came to Tortuga to trap me personally?” Maddox asked.

“Without question,” Ural said. “But I imagine she would think of it as luring you to Tortuga.”

“How do you know all this?” Maddox asked.

“Allow me to keep a few secrets, eh.”

Maddox studied his uncle, admiring the man’s seeming indifference to his fate. “Do you know what she plans for us?”

Ural shook his head.

“I warrant it’s nothing good,” Maddox muttered.

“Indeed not.”

Once again, Maddox studied his uncle. “The man I fought said she would experiment on me.”

“Ah. You must have spoken to a Merovingian then. They love to boast. The more obscene or perverse the taunt, the better they like it.”

“Who are the Merovingians?”

“I believe you met several when you tried to save your grandmother in Antarctica. Didn’t they possess transfer technology?”

Maddox stared at his uncle. “You’re well informed,” he finally said.

Ural made an offhand gesture. “I am the head of the Throne World’s Intelligence Service after all.”

“Yes. I realize,” Maddox said. “That’s why I don’t understand why you would come in person to Tortuga—and I hope you’re not going to say to save me.”

“I’ve already told you why I’m here. I desired to capture the Methuselah Woman.”

“And put her in captivity with Methuselah Man Strand?”

“No. In her case…well, it’s moot now,” Ural said. “Besides, I’m sure her agents are monitoring our conversation. There’s no sense saying too much.”

“You’re right.” Maddox brooded. “Perhaps if you’d told me beforehand what you’d planned…”

“No, Captain,” Ural said. “I don’t think you would have trusted me to that degree. Capturing Meyers seemed too important a prize. I wonder if she knew what I’d—of course, she would know. Meyers is many times more dangerous than Ludendorff or Strand ever was.”

“I suppose you’re right, about me not trusting you.” Maddox looked around. “What do we do now?”

“What else?” Ural asked. “There is no escape from here. If there were, my men and I would have already achieved it.”

-11-

Five hundred thousand kilometers from Tortuga, Starship Victory slowly orbited the greater debris mass. Maddox’s scheduled call had come and gone in silence. Now…

On the bridge, Lieutenant Valerie Noonan sat in the captain’s chair, her chin resting on her right-hand fist and her beautiful features scrunched with thought. She had been a severe rules stickler upon joining the crew many years ago. She still insisted on doing things the right way and usually the official way. But serving under Maddox had taught her the utility of unorthodoxy, as well as the risks.

She looked up at the main screen, noting a giant hauler several hundred kilometers from the ship.

“Galyan,” she said.

A small Adok holoimage appeared beside the command chair. The Adok Galyan had been the last of his race to command the defense fleet before the Swarm slaughtered everyone and destroyed the Adok homeworld. Over six thousand years ago, the ship had “deified” him, imprinting his engrams into the sophisticated AI.

The holoimage Galyan was short with ropy arms and stringy fingers and could control almost all the starship’s functions.

“You called, Valerie?” Galyan asked.

“Have the Brethren resumed jamming?” she asked.

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered for just a moment. “Yes, Valerie.”

“Did you detect anything from the captain or the sergeant?”

“No, Valerie. I would have informed you if I did. Are you worried about them?”

“Take a look outside,” she said. “I see star cruisers, non-Star Watch battleships, haulers, pirate vessels and others all orbiting the most notorious pirate base in the galaxy. And now the captain hasn’t made his scheduled call. Yes, I’m worried.”

“So am I,” Galyan admitted.

Valerie’s chin lifted off her fist as she slid forward on the seat. “You are?”

“Quite worried,” Galyan said. “We should do something.”

“Before he left, the captain said he’d be okay even if he didn’t call in right away.”

“I know what he said. But you and I both know that Captain Maddox is often overconfident concerning his abilities. He may have overreached, and we’re supposed to remain out here, powerless to help him?”

Valerie nodded. “Let’s suppose he’s in trouble. What could we do? You’re not suggesting we begin burning through Tortuga’s debris mass, are you?”

“That would take weeks. No, I am not suggesting that.”

“Weeks, huh? You’ve run the numbers?”

“Of course,” Galyan said.

“Okay, okay, we don’t burn through the debris mass. What then?”

“The simplest expedient would be to start destroying their customer base,” Galyan said. “In other words, we burn a few ships until the rest scatter. Then, you use the Long-Range Builder Communicator and ask the Lord High Admiral for reinforcements to finish the job.”

Valerie smiled. “That would work.”

“I think so too, unless…”

“Go ahead. Tell me.”

“Whoever captured the captain shows him on the screen and tells us they’ll start cutting off his fingers unless we promise to quit firing on their customers.”

“Galyan,” Valerie said, disgusted. “What an awful and vicious thing to think.”

“I am sorry, Valerie. They are space pirates, however. Is that not the sort of thing pirates—renegades—would do?”

“I suppose. What else could we do?”

“Attempt to pilot Victory through the debris field until we reach near-orbital space,” Galyan said. “If successful—”

“What about the orbital defense satellites?”

“We have the firepower to destroy them.”

Valerie stood, stretching her back. “Maybe I should call the Brethren Council and ask them what’s up.”

“That has the advantage of directness,” Galyan said, “but they already warned the captain to stay away. They said his coming through the debris field and landing on the dwarf planet would be on his head, not theirs.”

“I know, I know.” Valerie chewed on her lower lip, finally turning to Galyan. “Give me your best suggestion.”

“My best?” asked Galyan. “We wait, as the captain may have a good and entirely logical reason for not making the scheduled call.”

Valerie exhaled. “I’m not going to wait very long.”

“I would not think so,” Galyan said.

She frowned, sat back in the captain’s chair and began to work on a fingernail with her teeth. “When’s the next scheduled call?”

“Seven hours and ten minutes,” Galyan said.

“I’m not waiting any longer than that. I may not even wait that long. Galyan!” she said.

“Yes, Valerie.”

“Start figuring out a way to project yourself as far as possible into the debris field and see if you can short-circuit the main Tortuga jammer.”

“I doubt I can. But I will certainly give it the old college try.”

“Huh?” Valerie asked.

“I will begin immediately,” Galyan said, disappearing from view.

Valerie blinked several times, hoping Maddox was all right, and hoping that Meta would not come storming onto the bridge, demanding she do something to rescue the captain.

“What’s happening down there?” Valerie whispered. “Why do I have a knot in my gut about this?” She knew why, and she knew that she could be wrong about this. Thus, she was going to wait a few more hours at least before making her move.

-12-

“Hey, wake up. You’ve slept long enough, old man. Are you sick? I’m sure you’re weak. You look old and weak, withered up and useless. I don’t know why I haven’t kicked in your ribs and been done with you already.”

Sergeant Riker groaned as a massive insistent hand kept shoving his left shoulder. His head pounded, and his mouth was dry. He had no idea where he was, what had happened to him or who…who…?

“Old man,” the thick-voice person said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Shut up, why don’t you?” Riker growled.

There was a tense silence.

A modicum of worry invaded the sergeant’s consciousness. He opened his eyes and wished he hadn’t.

“Why are you scowling at me?” The speaker was a huge, massive brutish man with ugly features, a thick neck and heavily muscled sloping shoulders. He wore brown leather garments and a belt with the oddest trinkets attached to them. Some of the trinkets looked like shrunken heads a cannibal chief might own. Others were obvious totems or good luck charms. Up behind the mop of hair were bright harsh lights. The glaring lights made it difficult to make out the man’s eyes.

“Where am I?” Riker asked.

“The hostel,” the brute said. “Are you sick or just stupid?”

Riker noticed he was lying on a wooden board with a folded jacket for a pillow. He remembered finally that he and the captain were on a secret mission inside Tortuga. He’d been waiting for the captain in a dim tunnel, fingering his lucky gold coin when—Riker winced as he reached back and fingered a knot on the back of his head. The wincing made him nauseated. He kept himself from vomiting and felt a pocket, the one where he kept his lucky coin. It was gone! Had he dropped it? Damn, he’d lost his lucky coin…unless this huge brute had seen and swiped it. How can I get it back?

“You’re turning pale again,” the brute said. “You’re weak, very weak. I barely tapped you on the back of the head and down you flopped. It was pathetic.”

“What?” Riker asked.

“I sneaked up on you and used a club, knocking you out.”

“Did you take my coin?”

“What coin?”

“I was holding a coin when you bashed my head from behind. That’s probably why I didn’t hear you sneaking up on me.”

“No. I’m good at sneaking. You were holding a coin?”

“Yes, a gold one. You must have seen it roll onto the floor.”

“I didn’t see it. You were flopping around, and I thought I might have killed you. I checked. You were still breathing, so I slung you over my shoulder and carried you away.”

“Just give my coin back already,” Riker said.

“I don’t have it. I’m not a liar, and I’m not a thief. If you’re going to keep calling me a liar and thief—”

“All right, all right,” Riker said, wanting to calm the huge brute down. The man didn’t look or seem bright and had been working himself up like a dog. “I’m sorry, okay. You’re not a liar and thief. I shouldn’t have said that.”

The huge brute was breathing heavily, his massive hands opening and closing in anger. His breathing slowed down and no longer sounded like a bull getting ready to charge. He finally let his hands hang at his side.

“Do you mean what you said?” the brute asked.

“Yes,” Riker said. “I got carried away. And I realize that losing the coin was my own stupid fault.”

“You’re calling yourself stupid?”

“For losing the coin,” Riker said.

The brute nodded, nodding more. “Okay. That’s okay. I’m certainly not stupid. I sneaked up on you, bonked you on the head and carried you away myself. No one saw what I did.”

“Did someone tell you to do that?” Riker asked.

“No! It was my idea. Mine!”

“Sure,” Riker said, flinching at the man’s loudness, feeling nauseated again. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“That’s better. It was my idea; mine alone. You see, the Queen said I wasn’t champion material. That insulted me, and I knew in my heart that she was wrong, dead wrong. I decided to show her, show everyone. That was why I slipped away without any of the others noticing and went and caught you in the trap tunnel. I did it myself, and I did it right. Don’t you think that means I’m champion material?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a freaking champion.” Riker thought about sitting up. The more he thought about it, though, the more nauseous he felt, and that made him grumpy. “I don’t understand any of this and why it’s happening to me.”

“That is very odd, very strange,” the brute said. “I thought an old weakling like you would have to be smart. Aren’t you smart? If you’re not smart, you are no use to me.”

“Wait a minute, huh?” Riker said, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes because he felt like vomiting.

“No. Wake up. Wake up. Open your eyes.” The brute began shaking him.

Riker opened his eyes even as he grew pale again, almost gagging.

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit,” the brute said. “Either you can help me, or I’ll punch you until your bones crunch and you scream for mercy. I won’t give you any, though. Mercy is for weaklings and sissies.”

“Uh… can you help me sit up then?” Riker asked.

“No! Sit up on your own, old man. If you can’t—I’ll punch you until bones break and splinter, poking through your skin.”

Riker gritted his teeth, clenched his stomach muscles and slowly sat up as he turned his hips. His booted feet slid off the board and dropped to the floor. He frowned. He gagged and leaned over, vomiting thin gruel onto the floor.

The brute backed up and began laughing.

Wiping his mouth, Riker looked at his captor, getting a better picture of him, shuddering inwardly at what he saw. The man was bigger than he realized, maybe seven feet tall and weighing 300 pounds, easy, maybe 350. The head was too big and the eyes too close set. The eyes, black eyes, showed a vicious stupid brute. The giant had coarse facial features with stumps for teeth and spaces between each of them.

“What’s so funny?” Riker asked.

“You!” the brute shouted. “You puked! You puked because you’re old and weak.” The brute reached to the side, to the wall, picking up a short iron bar. “I’m going to crush your skull, old man, because I finally know you’re useless.”

“Wait,” Riker panted.

The brute squinted at him. “Are you trying to order me around?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“You lie! You weak old bastard, you’re a liar too. This was a mistake.”

“I’m smart, though,” Riker said quickly.

“What?”

“I’m old and weak, but I’m damn smart, the most cunning Intelligence man of the Star Watch service.”

The brute stared at Riker suspiciously, finally saying, “The Queen told us Maddox is the key to destroying Star Watch.”

Riker wanted to lie down and sleep, but he didn’t dare. His captor was vastly strong, stupid and—

What’s the best way to deal with him? Riker had an idea. “Can I ask you a question?”

The brute scowled. “I don’t like questions.”

“It’s an easy one.”

“Oh. Oh. Go ahead then. Ask your stupid question.”

“Thanks. Does your Queen always tell the truth?”

The brute’s eyes become wide. “No… How did you know that?”

As gently as possible, Riker tapped the side of his head. “I’m smart, really smart about stuff like that.”

“Yes, yes, I can tell. And I knew it. I knew the great Maddox wouldn’t keep a weak old man like you—that falls at the tiniest pop of a club—unless he was devil smart.”

“That’s me, all right,” Riker said. “I’m devil smart.”

“So how should we do this?” the brute asked.

Riker opened his mouth, almost asking the man what he meant. Instead, at the last second, the sergeant said, “Good question. That’s a very good question. I’m glad you asked it.”

The brute straightened proudly, grinning.

“First, I need to know your name.”

“That’s easy,” the brute said. “I’m Dagobert Dan.”

“Where are we, Dagobert?”

“I already said: in the hostel.”

“Right, right, you did. What level?”

Dagobert shook his head. “I hate too many questions. You’re asking too many. What should we do next? That’s all I want to know.”

“Well…we should grab the captain, right?”

Dagobert scowled. “The Queen’s men grabbed him, captured him. They put Maddox with the New Men.”

“Of course,” Riker said, trying to play this how Maddox might. “That’s what I thought they would do.”

Dagobert scratched his head. “You knew about the New Men?”

“Of course,” Riker said.

“You’re not lying about that?”

“Uh… What do you want most of all, Dagobert?”

“Huh?

“What do you want more than anything else in the universe?”

The brute stared at Riker before puffing out his massive chest. “I’m the strongest, the very strongest of our sept. The others say I’m dumb, a retard, that the injections worked but the side effects were too severe. The drugs warped my mind, they said. The others in our sept make me do the heavy work, the smelly work. I don’t like that. I want to crush my enemies and hear their women whine about it. That’s what Merovingians do best.”

“You’re a Merovingian?” Riker asked.

A thunderous scowl appeared. “Are you saying I’m not?” Dagobert shouted.

“No, no, not at all,” Riker said. “You’re a Merovingian, all right. There’s no doubt about that.”

Dagobert was panting, glowering at Riker, swinging the short steel bar back and forth.

“Now that I’ve met you,” Riker said, “I know that you might actually be the strongest of all the Merovingians.”

“I am the strongest.”

“Good,” Riker said, “Because this will only work if we use the strongest Merovingian.”

Dagobert peered at him. “You still think we should take Maddox from the holding cell?”

“Exactly,” Riker said. “Only the bravest, the strongest and most cunning of Merovingians could do that.”

Dagobert opened his mouth and laughed with delight. “That will show them, show them all. They call me a moron and idiot, but I could crush any of them if he dared face me man to man. That was why I followed Clovis to the dead tunnels. I waited until after he donned his mask. Then, I crept into the dead tunnels, finding you standing there like an idiot. A tap on the head, and I captured the cunning weak old man. Now, with your help—what are we going to do again?”

“Capture Captain Maddox,” Riker said.

Dagobert frowned. “The Queen’s men already captured him.”

“I know that. But we’re going to show them that…that you’re better than them. Even though they have a heavy guard at the holding cell, you’re going to take Maddox and personally take him to the Queen.”

Dagobert pushed his lips out in a simian manner. “I don’t know if the last is a good idea. We’ll wait until they start screaming and running around, asking who got Maddox free. Then, and only then, will I take the captain to her and show her I’m the greatest of the sept.”

“There you go. I like your part of the plan…” Riker almost said “better.” But he reconsidered. Dagobert was a dullard, but there was something chillingly deadly about him, too. It would be best to handle the man with care. There was something else. What did Dagobert mean about injections? And who were these Merovingians, and who was the Queen?

Riker did not shake his head. He was woozy, still feeling nauseated. But he would do whatever he could to get out of this predicament and free the captain. That last hardly seemed possible.

“Dagobert.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to need a weapon to do this.”

Dagobert squinted at him. “How can I trust an old fart like you?”

“That’s a smart question, a really smart question. What would it take for you to trust me?”

Dagobert rubbed his jaw. “You’d have to make me a promise, a big promise.”

“I can do that.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally,” Riker said. “I cross my heart and hope to die if I don’t do what I say.”

“I like that. Yes. I’ll get you a weapon. Then, we have to start. I don’t think the Queen is going to wait very long. They want to take the captain and New Men away so they can start experimenting on them.”

“Good thinking,” Riker said. “Get that weapon for me and then let’s go.”

-13-

Riker turned cold and then faint as the giant Dagobert returned to the hostel room. Their quarters had a restroom with a filthy toilet—full of green algae in the bowl—with an equally dirty sink. There was a tiny fridge in a kitchenette, mainly holding milk and beer. The hostel room was a sty, with a wooden board for a bed.

Dagobert had changed and now wore medieval-style armor with a Greek hoplite helmet complete with a Y-slot opening. There were antennae on top of the helmet. He carried a long white lance with a wicked steel head and with a firing button in the middle.

Riker felt faint because he’d heard about these lances. Maddox had faced such warriors in Antarctica while trying to rescue his grandmother. The lance fired missiles or gouts of energy; he couldn’t remember which. The point of his misgivings was that Star Watch had faced such people before. Maddox had talked once or twice about the time he faced them, wondering if they had belonged to Lisa Meyers.

“Oh no,” Riker said.

“What’s wrong now?” Dagobert said. “I put on every piece of equipment I could find. What’s wrong with that?”

Riker licked his lips. “Uh, nothing’s wrong, Dagobert. You look…imposing.”

“What’s that word mean? Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” Riker said quickly. “Imposing means tough, mean or dangerous.”

Dagobert’s teeth flashed from within the helmet as he smiled.

“The Queen,” Riker said. “I was wondering if she has a name.”

“That’s stupid,” Dagobert said. “Of course she does: it’s Queen.”

“Right you are,” Riker said with a deprecating chuckle. “Does anyone ever call her Lisa Meyers?”

“I don’t remember. Is it important?”

“Not for what we’re going to do,” Riker said with enforced cheer. “Hey. Where’s my weapon?”

Dagobert lifted the lance. “This is mine. You can’t have it.”

“Okay. You keep the lance.”

“I don’t have another lance for you. But you can use this dinky thing.” Dagobert drew a heavy revolver from his belt, tossing it to Riker.

The sergeant caught it, opening the cylinder and checking the load. They were ordinary .44 Magnum bullets. He shoved the cylinder closed, wondering if he should just aim and fire until Dagobert was dead. How would he find the captain then? He’d also have to break his promise, and he didn’t want to do that.

“Do you have any extra rounds?” Riker asked.

“I thought you’d ask that. Here, take these.”

Riker cupped his hands, accepting twenty more rounds Dagobert spilled to him. Riker stuffed the extras into his pockets. Then, sliding the big gun into his waistband, the sergeant surged up to his feet. He swayed, and his eyesight blurred as dizziness threatened to make him vomit again and possibly to collapse. He held it together, though, even as he felt weakness flowing through him.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Dagobert asked. “You look awful pale.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure,” Riker said slowly and deliberately.

“So, ah, I’ve been thinking. Are you saying we just charge up and start killing the holding-cell guards?”

“Maybe. How far is the holding cell from here?”

“Two klicks.”

Riker winced inwardly. That would tax him, but what else could he do? “Will anyone think it strange that you’re wearing that armor suit?”

“The others wear their fighting suits all the time,” Dagobert said in a whiny voice.

“There you go then. It will be all right. Do you have a place to hold the prisoners once we free them?”

“We’re not freeing them. You said we’re capturing them. Was that a lie?”

“No, no lie. You’re right about capturing them. I was just testing you.”

“Oh… Okay. The others do that sometimes. I guess I won’t kill you for it.”

Riker took a moment to swallow uneasily, wondering once again if killing Dagobert wouldn’t be the smartest move. “Uh…where do we take our captives?”

“I was thinking about bringing them here,” Dagobert said evasively. “Do you think that’s stupid?”

“On the contrary, I think it’s brilliant.”

“Truly, Riker? You truly think that?”

“Would I lie to you?” Riker asked, hedging.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I wouldn’t. You’re too strong. I remember that bonk on the head you gave me. I’m afraid of you.”

“That makes sense. People fear the Merovingians. The others say that all the time.”

“I do wonder about one small detail, though.”

“Tell me.”

“When are the fewest guards at the holding cell?”

“Don’t we want to do this when there are the most? That way, we show how much better we are.”

“Usually you’d be right,” Riker said, “but not this one time. The first time we do this, we have to win. If you do this again, though, that’s when you show the others how weak they are compared to you by taking them all on.”

“That makes sense. You’re so smart, Riker.”

“Thanks, Dagobert. I appreciate you saying that. Are you ready?”

“I am. I am. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. Finally, I’m going to be the hero.” Dagobert turned toward the exit.

Riker started for it, as well, hoping he could last two kilometers and that his concussion wouldn’t betray him as being too old and weak like this monster-man had suggested.

They walked out of the bedroom and down a carpeted hall to exit the hostel, which was like a mouse hole in that the hostel was built into a tunnel wall. The tunnel was bigger and better lit than the one Riker had traversed with Maddox. The sides were rock, eight to nine meters high with bright lamps on the ceiling. The walls had occasional entrances, with machine-gun toting guards standing outside, usually two and sometimes three. The guards wore visors or sunglasses, and never gave Dagobert a glance of surprise for his attire. Instead, they looked away or down at the rock floor, as if they knew that to challenge the man meant agony or death.

“How long have you Merovingians been on Tortuga?” Riker asked.

“Three weeks.”

“Was the Queen here all that time?”

“I think so.”

Riker wanted to ask more. Instead, he concentrated on walking, on keeping his lunch down. A pain had begun at the back of his head. He was sure it was going to get worse. Could he hold it together long enough?

The tunnel expanded into a larger cavern, and the number of people grew. This must have been a market area. There were stalls, some chickens and goats, roasting meat, beer and sizzling eggs for sale. Farther down were electric fences. Behind them were naked men and women, dejected and sorry-looking specimens.

Dagobert pointed his lance at one electric fence. “I came from there.”

“From right there?” asked an astonished Riker.

“A different planet,” Dagobert said somberly. “I used to work at a bank, as a president, I think. I can no longer remember exactly.”

They walked a hundred more meters, leaving the captured people behind the electric fence.

“I was very rich,” Dagobert said suddenly. “I had a different name, too.”

Riker could hardly believe that. Then it struck him. “You weren’t as big then?”

“No. I was puny compared to now. That was before the Queen’s scientists injected me with…with…it’s hard to remember.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” Dagobert said stubbornly. “I want to remember. I used to have a very good memory. Let me think.”

Riker did because his head had started hurting again. That put a pain in the middle of his chest, which made it harder to breathe.

“You okay, old man?”

“I’ll make it,” Riker muttered.

“I’m counting on you.”

“Yeah,” Riker managed. “I’m counting on me too.”

“Cryptobiolin,” Dagobert said triumphantly.

“Huh?”

“That was one of the drugs they injected into me. Another was…” Dagobert snapped his fingers. “Trilenidil. See. I can remember if I try hard enough.”

“That’s good, really good.”

“Macrospentol was another drug. That was the one that made me dumber.”

Riker looked up at the brute. “Which one made you grow?”

Dagobert walked in silence until he shook his helmeted head. “I can’t remember. I want to, but I can’t.”

Riker’s chest hurt and breathing enough air to keep going—he stopped, bending over, putting his hands on his knees as he gasped.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dagobert asked.

“Nothing.”

“It don’t look like nothing. Am I going to have to do this without you?”

Riker forced himself to breathe deeply. It came with a wheezing gasp. That allowed him to straighten. He gave the giant a sickly smile. “See. I’m fine.”

Dagobert cocked his head. “Are you faking me, Riker?”

The sergeant shook his head, which made his eyes hurt, which caused him to heave, but nothing came out.

“You’re sick, old man. I should take you back. But that would look wrong. Maybe I should just off you here.”

“People would get suspicious.”

“Not on Tortuga and especially not down here in the deep tunnels. They run experiments and fights down here, and they make the best drugs, you can bet on that.”

“What fights?”

“I already said: the best.”

“You fight down here?”

“I’m not the champion. Tobias is. I could kick his ass, though. I would crush his skull between my hands and make the brains come mushing out. The Queen would have to make me the champion then.”

“Capturing Maddox would be better.”

“Why?” asked Dagobert.

Riker nearly hunched over and grabbed his knees. He needed help. He needed rest.

“Oh, hell, Riker, let’s just hurry it, huh?” Dagobert grabbed a triceps and started hauling the sergeant along as if he was a truculent child.

The sergeant did his best to keep his feet under him. Otherwise, he was sure the brute would drag him through the tunnel.

“We’re making better time this way,” Dagobert said.

Riker wheezed, using all his energy and concentration to keep his feet moving. This was ridiculous. But at this point, that was all he had left.

-14-

In this humiliating fashion, Riker closed in on the holding area. Dagobert marched into a side tunnel, with a lance in one hand and Riker’s arm in the other. The tunnel narrowed to half its width, and a hum began growing louder the farther they marched.

“What’s that noise?” Riker shouted.

“Generators,” Dagobert said. “The factory is burning full force. They’re manufacturing cryptobiolin, trilenidil, macrospentol and the other biochemical-altering drugs. The Queen wants an army of supermen to deal with…with her enemies.”

“And the holding cell?”

“Hang onto your britches, old man. It’s coming up. Can’t you walk any faster?”

“I’m trying,” Riker shouted.

“Damn you. You’re making me look stupid. I hate looking stupid. Run, old man. Run with me.”

Dagobert burst into a sprint, forcing Riker to keep up with him. They raced down the corridor, the sergeant’s headache getting worse at the constant jarring. Riker groaned, heaved and stained his shirt with vomit even as some dribbled down his chin.

“Wipe your face, you fool,” Dagobert shouted.

Riker managed to look up as the brute slowed his pace. The sergeant’s eyes crossed. He heaved, but his stomach was dry. He trembled from exhaustion and felt a fever heat up his skin.

“Hey, look,” a man shouted, “Dagobert’s caught himself a boyfriend.”

Heavy voiced men began laughing at the joke.

“No…” Dagobert whispered. “This is the worst, Riker, the worst. They’re making fun of me. I hate this. I want to go home.”

“Keep going,” Riker gasped.

“What?”

“Show me these—idiots. I want to see them for myself.”

“They’re not idiots. They’re tough Merovingians.”

“Just do it,” Riker hissed.

Dagobert’s grip tightened.

That woke up Sergeant Riker, clearing his mind and his eyes for just a moment, anyway.

Dagobert slowed to a walk as the two of them neared a door or hatch built into the tunnel side. Two Merovingians dressed in armor like Dagobert stood watching the two of them. One was still laughing. The other was shaking his head at them.

“You got a prisoner, Dagobert?” the laugher asked.

“No!” the seven-foot brute shouted.

The two guards glanced at each other.

As they did, Riker drew the .44 from his waistband. He used his thumb and cocked the hammer.

Dagobert halted before the two guards.

Riker raised the revolver, aimed it at a center mass torso and fired. The guard staggered back against tunnel rock. Better yet, Dagobert released Riker. The sergeant brought up his other hand to steady the revolver and fired as the second guard brought his lance level. The shots were deafening, and Riker didn’t stop with two, but pumped two more into the second guard and two into the other one.

They no longer moved, but lay dead with blood spurting out of them.

In a daze, mechanically, Riker opened the cylinder and let the brass casings spill onto the stone floor. It took even more deliberation for the sergeant to slide one bullet after another into the empty cylinder. He clicked the cylinder shut and looked up at an open-mouthed Dagobert.

“We’re doing it,” Riker slurred. “I can do the rest if you want, or you can help me and become the champion.”

“They’re dead. You killed them. You weren’t supposed to kill Merovingians.”

“They laughed at you, and that made me angry.”

Dagobert stared at Riker.

“They were making fun of you,” Riker said. “It cost them their lives because they were acting stupid.”

“They were my friends. I let you kill my friends.”

“Wrong!” Riker shouted. “You’re doing it, Dagobert. If you got the balls, if you’re man enough, you can stay with me. Otherwise, slink away like a coward, like a puss and let me take care of this.”

“I’m no coward!” Dagobert roared. “I’m the greatest of the Merovingians.” He lifted his lance and shook it.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

The hatch slid up, and two more armored Merovingians were there. Each of them held a lance.

“Help you do what?” one of them asked.

“This!” Dagobert roared, clutching his lance two-handed and jabbing the steel blade into the helmeted face of the nearest guard. The lance point punched through armor, bone and bone again as Dagobert skewered the man.

The second guard reacted, but Riker shot him five times until the man lay on the inner corridor floor.

“Hot damn!” roared Dagobert. “This is fun. I’m a killer. I’m the greatest. I’m the Queen’s champion. Come on, Riker. Let’s finish this.” The seven-foot giant charged into the corridor, sprinting at seeming light-speed.

“Wait for me,” Riker panted, shuffling his feet, trying to follow as fast as he could. He would never have made it if both legs were biological. One was bionic, and that allowed him to move with less effort than otherwise, and that kept his brain functioning.

He moved down the halls and corridors, hearing Dagobert wreak havoc on his fellow Merovingians. Once, Riker heard the gush of flames, and men screaming.

“Dagobert! It’s me! Stop firing!”

Death rattles and thumping bodies told their own story. Dagobert hadn’t halted.

Soon enough, Riker came upon burned corpses, the armor radiating heat and two places slagged and melted. The stench made Riker heave, gasp and stumble through the chamber. He continued following the sounds of battle, coming up as three Merovingians fought the berserk Dagobert. He was bigger, faster and frankly, superior. But he wasn’t going to defeat all three.

Dagobert stabbed at one. The other jumped back and blocked with his lance. The giant followed and stabbed again. That put him into a larger area. The other two guards began flanking Dagobert.

“Not happening,” Riker said, kneeling on his right knee, bringing up the revolver and firing. He took down one of them. The other dropped prone, aimed the lance—

Riker hurled himself to the left. A gout of hot fire flickered where he’d been standing.

The prone warrior twisted up.

“Die, scumbag!” Dagobert roared, stabbing the prone warrior in the back.

The warrior writhed in agony.

Riker scrambled upright and brought up the Magnum, firing three times, wounding the first warrior who charged Dagobert. That gave the giant just enough time to jump back and engage in a quarterstaff-like duel. They clacked staffs—lances—poked, parried—

Riker got off the perfect shot, nailing the already-wounded warrior, slowing him down enough so Dagobert skewered him to death.

Riker climbed to his feet and reloaded. When he was done, he noticed Dagobert looming before him.

“Riker!” Dagobert shouted. He grabbed the sergeant’s triceps.

“Not again,” Riker moaned. He jumped and moved his feet as Dagobert ran down the hall of dead warriors, dragging him along as they hurried toward a panel and a closed hatch.

“Victory,” Dagobert said through a raw throat.

“Let’s finish this,” Riker said.

Dagobert slid to a stop before the panel and peered at it in wonder. Finally, he dragged Riker near and practically shoved him at the panel. “Your turn, old man. Open it.”

Riker looked at Dagobert, opened his mouth to ask what he meant exactly and then figured it out. He was supposed to open the hatch. “Do you happen to know the code?” Riker asked, delaying.

“No, no, no code,” Dagobert said. “You’re smart, very smart. Open the damn hatch so I can collect my prisoners.”

“Yeah,” Riker said. None of this would have worked if Dagobert could rub two brain cells together in the ordinary way. The man was a fantastic warrior, but he was almost as dumb as a tree stump regarding everything else.

“I’m waiting, Riker. My patience has limits.”

Riker pressed a key. He looked up hopefully at the steel hatch, but nothing happened.

“Well?” Dagobert shouted.

“Stand back,” Riker said, raising the revolver, aiming it at the panel.

“That will work?”

“We’re going to find out.”

“No! I’m going to do it. You stand back, old man.’

Riker shuffled out of the way as Dagobert aimed his lance at the thing. The brute pressed the firing stud and a hot gush of liquid flame hit the panel, burning it, making the keys melt. The giant whirled around, and surprisingly, the hatch rose.

How about that, it had worked.

Dagobert bellowed in triumph, grabbed the back of Riker’s neck and raced through the opened hatch, moving through a steel-walled corridor. He aimed the lance forward and halted abruptly as a golden-skinned New Man met them, coming their way.

“On your belly, worm!” Dagobert roared. “I’ve bloody well captured you.”

The New Man frowned.

“You bastard!” Dagobert shouted, pressing the firing stud.

The New Man grunted as liquid fire licked at his belly and consumed the spot in a blaze. The superior screamed in agony and staggered backward, collapsing before he went very far.

“Victory is mine,” Dagobert shouted, racing ahead, propelling Riker from his neck hold.

They stepped over the New Man and entered a large cell, and no one was visible.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Dagobert roared. “I’m the champion. I’ve caught the lot of you. Now, I’m taking you with me.”

Captain Maddox stepped into view, standing at the narrow part of the holding cell, the middle. “Riker?” the captain asked.

“Uh, you’d better do as he says, sir. This is Dagobert, and he’s the Queen’s champion.”

Maddox stared at Riker.

“Do you want to die?” Dagobert shouted, aiming the lance at the captain.

“No,” Maddox said. “You…you slew Rusk.”

“Who?” demanded Dagobert.

“The New Man,” Maddox said.

“He wouldn’t obey me. Are you going to obey?”

“Yes,” Maddox said. “If Riker says you’re a champion, I know you are. May I tell the others?”

“Do it!” Dagobert shouted. “Tell them, and hurry. I’m taking you to my place.”

Maddox made an elaborate bow, sweeping his right arm. “I am your slave, champion. Command me at your will.”

“Huh?” asked Dagobert.

“Captain Maddox fears you,” Riker said. “That’s why he’s making a show of becoming your prisoner. He’s bowing before you.”

“Oh. That’s a bow?” Dagobert asked Maddox.

“Yes,” Maddox said. “If I have your permission, sir, I’ll get the others.”

“Are they going to try funny stuff?” Dagobert demanded. “Because if they do, I’m going to kill all of you.”

“No funny stuff,” Maddox said.

“Is he lying to me, Riker?”

“He can’t,” Riker said. “He fears you too much. He bowed and now he has to do exactly what you tell him.”

Dagobert laughed in delight. “This is great, Riker. I love being a champion.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” Riker asked.

“Sure, Riker,” Dagobert said.

“You might have to fight your way to your hostel. Can the others pick up weapons and help you defeat—”

“No!” Dagobert shouted. “That smells like trickery. Are you really my friend, Riker?”

“Why would you suggest such a thing, Riker?” Maddox asked. “Dagobert is the champion. He doesn’t need our help. He broke in here, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Dagobert said. “I did. Riker shot a few of them, but I did the real damage. Now, let’s get moving, huh? We could be running out of time. More Merovingians will be coming, and they’re going to be pissed. I want to hide all of you and then bring you to the Queen.”

Maddox glanced at Riker. The sergeant nodded slightly.

“Hurry!” Dagobert roared. “Get the others.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Golden Ural said, as he stepped into view. “We all surrender to you, Champion. Do with us as you will.”

Dagobert glanced at Riker. “It’s happening,” he whispered. “It’s really happening.”

“Make them march ahead of you,” Riker said.

“Huh? Oh, yes.” Dagobert turned back to Ural. “You heard the old fart. Get your asses in front of me, and start marching. We’re getting out of here as of now.”

-15-

Maddox moved purposefully through the corridor, stunned at Dagobert’s deadly escapade, seeing the crumpled, stabbed and burned Merovingians. He noticed the shot ones as well, having seen the sergeant’s revolver. As Maddox led the New Men—the two plus Golden Ural—he recalled facing warriors like this on Earth in Antarctica. They had possessed a similar lance, with some differences. Those had shot missiles like an RPG. The one Dagobert carried had ejected liquid fire. Back then, the medieval-armored warriors in Antarctica had used power packs and connected lances to create a transportation gate, taking the Iron Lady—his grandmother—to a waiting stealth ship in Earth orbit. After Maddox and his team had captured the stealth ship, they’d used similar transportation tech to attack the Prime Saa hidden inside Luna, the Earth’s Moon.

Clearly, the Merovingians worked for or served Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers, Dagobert’s Queen, no doubt. The question was could they find such transportation technology on Tortuga and use it after capturing Lisa Meyers?

Maddox glanced behind him at Ural. His uncle was still upset from the gut-shot, dead Rusk. Ural and the others would jump Dagobert soon, and that might be the correct tactical move, but it might not be.

“We’re exiting the holding cell area,” Riker shouted from behind.

Maddox halted, turning around. The New Men did likewise.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Dagobert demanded. He was several meters back, the lance held level, aiming at them.

Riker was behind Dagobert, the revolver held beside his leg. One swift move could bring it up to fire at the Merovingian giant.

“Is Meyers holding others down here?” Maddox asked.

“Meyers, who is this Meyers?” asked Dagobert.

“The Queen,” Riker said.

“Oh,” Dagobert said. “Yes, of course others are here. They’ve been injected and are awaiting metamorphosis.”

“Injected with what?” asked Maddox.

“No!” Dagobert shouted. “It is…unseemly for prisoners to question their captor. You do as you’re told, or I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Champion,” Maddox said.

“I grow weary of this,” Golden Ural told Maddox. “What’s the purpose?”

“Deception,” Riker said quickly. “To move into a staging area before we strike.”

“What are you talking about, Riker?” Dagobert asked. “We’ll keep them in my room until the Queen is going crazy, wondering where they are. Then, I bring them to her, and I’m declared the mighty champion of the Merovingians.”

“No,” Ural said.

“Uncle,” Maddox cautioned.

“Stop,” Ural told him. “I appreciate your sergeant’s cunning. But we no longer need it. We must move as only we can move.”

“Hey, you,” Dagobert said. “If you keep talking, I’m going to burn you. I can kill the lot of you skinny gold freaks. You’re starting to make me angry, very, very angry.”

Maddox directed a significant glance at Riker. The sergeant saw it and shook his head. Maddox glanced significantly again, putting more oomph into it. Riker shook his head harder.

“That’s it,” Dagobert said, aiming the lance at Ural.

“Champion!” Riker shouted.

“What is it, old man?” Dagobert asked, turning his head to look back to Riker.

Golden Ural and the other two New Men acted, charging a distracted Dagobert. The long-armed Ural grabbed the end of the lance behind the steel blade. He jerked the orifice up at the ceiling.

“Treachery!” Dagobert roared.

The other two New Men rushed the Merovingian giant, attempting to tackle him. Dagobert brought an armored fist down on the nearest one’s head, dashing the New Man to the floor. The other made the giant stagger backward. Dagobert released the lance and brought up both armored hands, grabbing the New Man by the head and starting to squeeze. The New Man groaned and then screamed. Ural had the lance, holding it by the wrong end. He swung it anyway, hard against Dagobert’s helmeted head. The blow staggered the brute, but he didn’t release the screaming thrashing New Man. Instead, he squeezed with terrible force, and there was the splintering sound of skull and facial bones.

“Monster,” Ural said, reversing the lance so he held it the right way. He lunged and stabbed. The steel blade punctured the body armor. Ural drove Dagobert back, and farther back. The monster-man released his head hold, and that New Man crumbled to the ground, a dying wretch.

“No!” Dagobert shouted, grabbing the lance, glaring at Golden Ural. The Merovingian tore the lance from Ural, and he plucked the blade from his torso. It dripped with blood. He switched his grip to hold it the right way.

“Forgive me, Dagobert,” Riker said, raising the revolver. He shot the Merovingian in the back, emptying his weapon.

As the thunderous sounds died away, Dagobert worked his way around. The lance dropped from his hold, and he stared accusingly at Riker.

“You lied to me, old man.”

“We’re enemies, Dagobert. I had no choice.”

“You crossed your heart. You lied.”

“Enemies do that to each other.”

“Is this about your stupid coin?”

Before Riker could answer, Maddox swung a short stout iron bar he’d picked up. The bar connected with the side of Dagobert’s helmeted head, and it was the final straw. Dagobert’s eyelids fluttered, and he toppled sideways.

“Why didn’t you shoot him before this?” Ural demanded. “Bel Torres is dying because of you.”

Riker looked up at Golden Ural. “I made a promise. I broke it anyway.”

“Never mind about that now,” Maddox told Ural. “We’re out of the cell. We’re free for the moment. We must make haste. Riker, what’s the next step?”

“I don’t know,” the sergeant said, as he stared at Dagobert. He couldn’t believe it, but the monster man was moving, dragging himself across the floor.

“What’s your backup plan, Uncle?” Maddox asked.

Ural squinted at the captain. “We have to get off Tortuga and back to our ships.”

“Yes, but how?” asked Maddox.

Riker pointed at Dagobert. “I think we’d better do it his way. We don’t flee, but we attack, we keep attacking them to keep them off balance.”

Maddox stared at his sergeant. “Yes, excellent advice. Let’s arm ourselves and find the controls of the holding-cell area.”

“Four of us against a planet?” asked Ural.

“No,” Maddox said. “We need to find the transfer technology, capture Meyers and get back to our vessels. We do an end run against her.”

Ural became thoughtful even though he was grim-faced. “Attack, right. Let’s start.”

-16-

They left Dagobert on the floor and raced back into the interior of the holding-cell area, picking up lances from dead Merovingians.

Maddox noticed Riker’s pale and guilty complexion. “Don’t feel bad. We had to kill him. Dagobert would have gotten all of us killed otherwise.”

“I know that, sir. I don’t like it, though. He helped us, and we killed him for it. That seems wrong to me.”

“You tricked him into helping us.”

“He tricked himself. No, the Queen screwed him. He used to be a banker somewhere. They captured him and pumped him full of evil drugs, turning him into what he became.”

“That’s all very interesting—are you well, Riker?”

“No, sir, I’m not. I have a concussion. I’m ready to collapse.”

“Here, old man, let me help you.” Maddox draped one of Riker’s arms over his shoulders, helping to steady him. “You have to take care of yourself, Sergeant. I don’t have the time or the inclination to train a replacement.”

“Of course not, sir,” Riker muttered. The aid helped, making it easier to breathe.

Golden Ural and the other New Man led the way. Each gripped a Merovingian lance. So far, the holding-cell area seemed to be devoid of people, as they’d all been killed. There wasn’t even an alarm ringing, or none they could hear, anyway.

Ural halted suddenly, straightening, turning around. “This is a mistake. This place is—a trap,” he said, speaking softer the longer he talked. “We must flee: get to a shuttle and our ships as fast as possible.” Ural focused on Riker. “What was Dagobert’s plan?”

“To take us to his room in a hostel,” Riker said.

“And then?”

Riker explained about Dagobert’s idea.

Ural glanced up at the ceiling before looking down the corridor and shaking his head. “Meyers runs her service, but I don’t think she runs Tortuga, although she must have allies, maybe even some on the Brethren Council. We know she has snipers, and they shoot knockout darts. I heard you speak to the captain about injections. Is she creating supermen down here?”

“If Dagobert counts as one, I think so,” Riker said.

“I’m beginning to understand.” Ural glanced at Maddox. “Do you trust me?”

“I’ll give you a poker answer,” Maddox said. “It depends.”

“Do you trust me to get us off Tortuga?” Ural amended.

Maddox cocked his head. “That far: yes.”

“Show me the exit,” Ural told Riker. “I’ll do the rest.”

***

Ural led the way down the side tunnel as he conferred softly with his companion. Maddox and Riker brought up the rear, the distance growing between the two groups.

“I’m running out of gas, sir. I can feel myself losing strength. It’s getting harder to think.”

“I’m surprised you did as well as you have,” Maddox said. “A concussion is serious business. If you can hang on another hour…”

“Longer than that, I’d think,” Riker whispered.

Maddox gave his sergeant a worried glance. They were in the deep tunnels, were escaped prisoners and out of communication with Victory. Lisa Meyers was down here, and she must have more of these Merovingians. What was worse, according to Ural, Meyers had lured him here. Just how large was her Tortuga outfit?

“Sir,” Riker said, indicating ahead.

The New Men walked faster, disappearing into a larger merging tunnel.

“The lances will make us conspicuous,” Maddox said. “Are you well enough to still use the revolver?”

“Do you want it, sir?”

“No, no. Keep it for now. Can you walk any faster? I’d like to know what Ural is up to.”

Riker groaned as he increased his shuffling pace.

The two of them entered the larger tunnel just in time to see the two New Men stride past watching guards: men with machine pistols in front of a hatch. The New Men turned with speed, swinging their lances, knocking out the guards. The New Men gathered the machine pistols, opened the hatch and dragged the guards inside.

“Now what?” Maddox asked.

“If you want to help them, sir…I can wait here.”

“You let me do the thinking,” Maddox said curtly. “Hm. Keep moving, Sergeant. Your lack of effort is starting to grate on me.”

“Yes, sir,” Riker said, as weariness dragged his consciousness toward oblivion.

Maddox itched to help his uncle, but Riker was clearly weakening. He didn’t want to leave the sergeant unguarded. Besides, Ural knew what he was doing.

They reached the hatch, entering a corridor, hearing gunshots farther on. The two knocked-out guards snored within an alcove under hanging coats.

“We’ll wait here,” Maddox said.

Riker was grateful for the rest. His eyelids were getting heavier. It was harder keeping his eyes open.

“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” Maddox warned.

The sounds of gunfire had ceased. It seemed inconceivable that mere ruffians had defeated two New Men, especially as one of them was Golden Ural. That would mean the superiors had defeated whoever owned the place.

Time stretched, making Maddox antsy. This is taking too long. Fortunately, he soon heard approaching footsteps. He roused Riker so the sergeant raised his head and smacked his lips as Ural propelled a large woman ahead of him.

She wore long courtesan-like finery of silk and lace, and a silk scarf tied around her throat. She had long dark hair, stern features and enormous breasts. The two New Men now had holstered guns belted at their sides, with a few odd gadgets attached, no doubt taken from the guards.

“It is my pleasure to introduce you to Grace Hyperion,” Ural said. “She’s an illustrious member of the Brethren Council and was just about to leave to meet with Meyers.”

Maddox nodded.

“Grace has felt compelled to warn me concerning our activities,” Ural added. “I have, however, convinced her to no longer share her concerns with me. Seeing the error of her ways, she has agreed to help us leave Tortuga via the fastest route possible by giving me the whereabouts of her secret passage to the spaceport.”

“Do you trust her?” Maddox asked.

“Perfectly,” Ural said. “Grace appears to love life, finding herself loath to leave it during her height of glory.”

“Mock me at your peril, New Man,” she said in a thick voice.

“Not completely subdued,” Maddox noted.

“I’ll remember you, too,” she told the captain.

“And you trust her?” Maddox asked again.

“To act as her nature dictates,” Ural said. “Fortunately, I am well-versed in detecting falsities and the girding of one’s loins to act against her superiors. Are you listening, Grace?”

She didn’t speak, but her dark eyes swirled with malice.

“Then, off we go,” Ural said. “Grace, you and I will go arm-in-arm. Smartly now, and remember how your chief lieutenant died cursing your name.”

For the first time, Maddox detected a hint of worry in the Brethren Council Member. Grace Hyperion looked tough and hard-minded. What had Ural done to her chief lieutenant?

“No. Not that way,” Ural told Maddox. “Remember I told you that Grace has a secret passage? We’ll use that.”

“Ready?” Maddox asked Riker.

“Yes,” the sergeant said, his eye opening and his whites a ghastly red color.

“Just a little more, Sergeant,” Maddox said, “and then you’ll be in sickbay and can sleep all you want.”

-17-

Dagobert Dan wasn’t dead yet. He crawled ever so slowly across the floor. Riker had shot him from behind. Riker had lied. Riker had crossed his heart and hoped to die if he lied. Now…now…he was dying…

“No,” Dagobert whispered. “Get you, Riker. Strangle your wrinkled old throat. Kill you New Men, too. You’ll see. I’m not dead yet, not by a long shot.”

His back hurt like hell. He had a hole in his chest. He had defeated so many of the Merovingians, so many who had laughed at him before. That had been fun, really fun. Letting his rage and his reflexes take over—

Dagobert’s head bumped up against something. He shoved with his head, but the thing wouldn’t give.

“Move,” he whispered. He pushed his head forward again, but he bumped up against something solid.

Straining, the pain in his back like fire, Dagobert arched his head up so his chin rested on the floor. A pair of boots stood in his way, girly boots with frills and such. Dagobert frowned. He’d seen boot like that before. It had been—

“Pick him up,” a feminine voice said.

Two Merovingian warriors in medieval-style armor grasped Dagobert’s arms and hauled him up to his feet.

Dagobert towered over them, and he groaned as his chest and back flamed anew in agony.

“Look at me,” the woman said.

Dagobert opened his glazed eyes and a shape blurred before him.

“Concentrate,” she said.

Dagobert did. His vision slowly focused and he sucked in his breath. “Queen,” he whispered.

The statuesque beauty before him nodded. She was tall and elegant with long dark hair done up in a towering wrap above her head. She was so slender as to almost be gaunt. Her eyes were liquid beauty with a piercing gaze. She wore tight-fitting garments with boots and held a riding crop in her right hand. The fingers were long and slender, the nails painted black.

She flicked the quirt so the braided leather lash struck Dagobert’s bloody, dented armor. “What happened here, Warrior?”

He turned his head and spit blood out of his mouth, spit again to make sure. He faced the Queen, saying, “I happened.”

The Queen raised her plucked eyebrows.

Fear and a wave of weakness caused Dagobert to bow his head. The weakness faded, and his resolve hardened. He could be dying, so he might as well tell the truth. “I want to be the champion. I wanted you to know. But some think I’m stupid. So, I had to show you. Riker agreed with me.”

“Sergeant Riker?” she asked.

“Do you know him?”

“Do you dare question me?”

“No… I’m sorry, Queen.”

“Did you kill the guards?”

“Most of them.”

“Who killed the others?”

“Riker.”

“And you let the New Men go free?”

“No,” Dagobert said, looking up. “I captured them. I showed you that I’m the best.”

“You idiot,” said one of the Merovingians holding his arms and thereby propping him up.

Dagobert scowled, glancing at…Tobias the Champion. “If I’m an idiot, why didn’t you defeat Maddox in the trap tunnel?”

“You fool!” Tobias shouted.

“Silence,” the Queen said.

“I beg your pardon, Great Lady,” Tobias said, sounding frightened.

She waved the quirt so the lash flicked. “Did the New Men turn on you?” she asked Dagobert.

“Turn, Queen?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did they jump you?”

“Yes! That’s what they did. And Riker broke his promise. He shot me from behind.”

“Where did he acquire a gun?”

“Huh?”

“Who gave Riker the gun?”

“I did,” Dagobert said. “Riker promised to help me, and he did for a while. Then, he backstabbed me, the liar.”

“You idiot,” Tobias whispered.

“You’re the idiot!” Dagobert shouted, bloody spittle flying from his mouth. “I could take you. I could crush your head like I did to the New Man.”

“Wait,” the Queen said. “You crushed his head?”

“With my bare hands,” Dagobert said. “I’m strong, very strong.”

“Not anymore,” she said.

“No. Riker killed me. I’m dying.”

She stared at him with those piercing eyes. “Do you wish revenge?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you want to hurt Riker for what he did to you?”

“Yes. I want that very much.”

The Queen glanced at Tobias and then Dagobert. “You’ve surprised me. I didn’t think you could fight like this. I imagine if you had any brains, you would have defeated Captain Maddox for me.”

“I would do that,” Dagobert said.

“If you had brains, you might be truly dangerous. This is interesting.”

“What about the New Men and Maddox?” Tobias asked.

The Queen raised her eyebrows. “Are you questioning me, Tobias?”

“I beg your forgiveness, Royal One,” Tobias said.

She nodded as the quirt flicked out, the braided leather lightly lashing Dagobert’s bloody armor. She began to circle him, soon standing before him again.

“The New Men are free. Maddox is free,” she said. “I doubt we’ll take them by surprise again. We’ll make the attempt, naturally. It’s possible they understand the stakes. I have a few surprises left. But they might surprise me.”

She raised the quirt so the lash touched her chin. “We must pack and leave. If the Brethren can recapture them, so much the better. But it is vain to cry over spilled milk. The deed is done. The drug shipment is nearly ready. Tobias, construct a transport gate. If the Brethren fail me, we’ll need to get a jump on the New Men. Maddox and his team have thwarted us before. I tire of it. I suspect now they will…”

She eyed Dagobert. “If you had brains to match your powerful frame… Bind his wounds,” she told the other Merovingian. “Dagobert Dan may prove his worth yet.”

Tobias opened his mouth, hesitated and refrained from speech.

“At least you’re learning,” the Queen told Tobias. “I wonder if this shot-up hunk of warrior can do the same. We shall see. Yes, I could use a real champion.”

“My Queen, I am the champion,” Tobias said.

“A champion that Maddox defeated,” she said.

“That will never happen again.”

“We shall see,” the Queen said. “Dagobert, you have one more test. Can you survive this?”

“Do you mean the gunshots, Queen?”

“That’s right.”

Dagobert felt feverish but nodded. “I’m strong. If you ask, I will survive.”

“I just asked.”

“Yes! I am Dagobert Dan. I am the strongest. I crushed the head of a New Man. Riker won’t survive his treachery. Next time, I will crush his head.”

“If you live long enough,” the Queen said.

“I will. I promise.”

She studied him, snorting softly afterward. Then her features hardened. “This damned Maddox. What makes him so lucky, I wonder?”

No one answered her.

She flashed her teeth in an evil smile. Then she waved her quirt, turned and marched away.

Tobias eyed Dagobert. “Think you’re tough, huh?”

“Tougher than you,” Dagobert said.

“Take him to the vat,” Tobias told the other.

“Aren’t you going to help me? He’s badly injured.”

“You heard him. He’s tough. If he can’t make it to the vat, then it was never meant to be.” With that, Tobias hurried away.

“You ready?” the Merovingian asked.

“Yeah.”

“All right, let’s do this.”

So began a horrible and agonizing walk that Dagobert would never forget and, in the end, never forgive. Two names blasted in his mind as he pushed himself and endured the torture: Tobias and Riker.

“I hate you. I hate you both,” Dagobert whispered. “Someday, you two are going to feel worse than this, and then I’ll kill each of you as I laugh.”

-18-

Maddox, Riker, Ural, the other New Man and Grace Hyperion rode in an elevator. Ural had taken the precaution of handcuffing Grace’s hands behind her back. She kept her head down, seething, it seemed, but possibly plotting.

Maddox noticed Riker fading in and out of consciousness. The sergeant had pulled off a miracle today. It would be a pity if he died because of it. He couldn’t let the possibility hinder his concentration, however. They had to get off Tortuga, get back to Victory and figure out a means of capturing Meyers either before leaving or after. First things first, however.

“Grace will have guards at the top of the elevator shaft,” Maddox said.

Ural glanced at him dryly.

“Okay,” Maddox said. “You knew that. Do we stick a gun against her head and threaten to shoot her if they don’t listen to us?”

Grace’s shoulders hunched, but she didn’t look up or comment.

“Concentrate on keeping your sergeant alive,” Ural said. “Let me deal with getting us spaceborne.” He took one of the odd gadgets from his belt, pressing a stud, reattaching the gadget to his belt.

Maddox made no comment. He assessed, however. Ural had come to Tortuga with a team to capture Meyers, knowing the Methuselah Woman was using the trail of Vint Diem to lure him, a captain of Star Watch, here. He’d fallen for the bait and Meyers’s Merovingians had captured him. At least he’d learned who these armored warriors belonged to. Meyers had also captured Ural. Surely, that had stung his uncle’s pride. Meyers was making super soldiers, according to Riker. She’d used the Merovingians on Earth in Antarctica when the Liss cybers had made their play. Where else did Meyers plan to use the Merovingians?

“The elevator is slowing,” Ural said.

Grace finally looked up, glaring at Ural. “You made a mistake, New Man, a bad one. This elevator—”

She ceased speaking as Ural lifted her chin with a knife blade. “You failed to warn me about the guards,” Ural said. “That is bad form, and I do not approve. However, I find you attractive, decidedly so. You’re big, bold and obviously have good genes. You would sire excellent sons.”

She blinked at him, perhaps with incomprehension.

Ural grinned. “I’ve decided to add you to my harem.”

“You filthy beast,” she cried, struggling against the handcuffs.

Ural withdrew the knife and cupped her chin with a hand. “You will learn to love me, Grace.”

Maddox scowled, appalled that Ural found the she-dragon attractive. Well, one couldn’t account for taste. Then again, perhaps Ural had ulterior motives. The woman might sire strong sons indeed. That could be well worth bedding the dame—if one were a New Man with genetic desires.

The elevator stopped, and the door opened. Ural propelled Grace ahead of him. She staggered and halted, gasping in evident disbelief.

Maddox helped Riker as he followed the others. The captain nodded as five New Men greeted them, the subdued guards shackled to each other on the floor.

“Right,” Ural said. “Is everything set?”

A New Man nodded.

“Captain,” Ural said. “We have a stiff run ahead of us to the spaceport. Is your sergeant capable of that?”

“I’m afraid not,” Maddox said. “You go ahead. I can take it from here.”

“That wasn’t my point.” Ural glanced at the previous New Man. “There’s a flitter?”

“Yes, Ural,” the New Man said.

“You see, Captain,” Ural said. “I happen to trust you considerably more than you trust me. Do you find that surprising?”

“Well…my man did free the lot of us.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I’m going to ask a favor, however. Will you grant it?”

Maddox squinted. “Ah. You wish me to take Grace with us.”

“Do you mind?”

“I imagine she’ll end up on Victory if I do that.”

“For the moment only, as you’ll have a reason to shuttle her to me later. Anyway, we’re wasting time.” Ural rattled off quick instructions. “Does that make sense?”

Maddox nodded, reaching for Grace, grabbing a fleshy arm. “If you give me any trouble…” he warned her.

She sneered eloquently.

“I wonder if you’re giving her into my custody because you believe I’ll be better able to handle her,” Maddox said.

“You, handle women?” Ural asked. “No. We have a small task ahead of us. I do not wish for any excess baggage while achieving my next objective.”

Maddox nodded. “Good luck, Uncle.”

“We’ll speak soon. I’m sure of it. Now, off you go. Time is critical if we’re going to capture the Methuselah Woman.”

***

Maddox piloted the flitter with Grace Hyperion in the front seat with him. Riker lay in the back. The captain flew fast through a tunnel, with hardly any margin for error on the sides and ceiling.

“You’re going to get us killed flying like this,” Grace said. “Slow down. You’re never going to make it off Tortuga anyway. Do you think the Brethren will allow you to kidnap a council member? We have procedures for emergencies like this.”

“What kind of procedures?”

“You’ll find out, Captain. Do you think I won’t remember the humiliations you heaped upon me? This is an outrage.”

Maddox glanced at her. He wished Keith was flying, but he should be able to pull this off. “You played with fire.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re crying because your fingers got burned. As my uncle said, that’s bad form.”

She struggled against the handcuffs as she grinded her teeth with rage. “You’re all bastards. You’re smug and think you’re so great. Meyers is going to teach you New Men a lesson you’ll never forget.”

“I’m not a New Man.”

“You called Golden Ural uncle. I think that makes you a New Man.”

“Is my skin golden?”

“So you had treatment done to your skin. You’re still one of them.”

“Hang on,” Maddox said, as he lowered the flitter so they skimmed a foot off the floor.

Grace closed her eyes, moaning. “I’m going to make you pay, Maddox. I’m going to skin you alive.”

“I just had a crazy thought. Your sons will be related to me.”

“And my daughters? Do you hold women in such contempt?”

“Not in the slightest. Don’t you know that New Men can’t sire women? They lack the X chromosome. They only sire boys. That’s why New Men like Ural are always on the hunt for desirable females. I’d think you’d feel honored he wants to kidnap you as breeding stock.”

“I’ll honor you the moment these handcuffs are removed.”

“Just a moment now,” Maddox said. “Your hypocrisy is showing. You’re a Brethren council member, and you’re all space pirates that kidnap people all the time.”

“For ransom,” she said.

“Does the reason why matter?”

“Yes!”

“I disagree. Now hang on. This is it.” Maddox glanced at her. “Oh, you can’t hang on with your hands cuffed. Well, crouch if you’re able, we’re going in.”

Maddox shut off the engine and braced himself. In seconds, the flitter’s bottom scraped against the floor. Sparks flew, and the screeching noises intensified. The flitter began to slide and swerved around a corner, smashing against one side. It caromed down the tunnel, bouncing, sparking, swerving and smashing. A checkpoint team with a tripod-mounted heavy machine gun tried to scatter out of the way. They were too slow as the flitter crashed against and over them. The small craft jumped up and smashed down repeatedly. Airbags inflated, protecting the three passengers from harm.

At last, the flitter slid to a stop. Maddox knifed his airbag so it deflated. He rose and cut the sergeant’s airbag.

Riker stared at him bleary-eyed.

“Look sharp now, Sergeant, and get out. It’s time to dash to the spaceport.”

Without waiting for an answer, Maddox cut Grace’s airbag and seatbelt and hauled her upright. She had a cut lip that was bleeding a little.

“You’re going to be all right,” Maddox told her.

“No, please. Leave me behind. I don’t want to leave Tortuga.”

“You have no choice, milady. Here now, don’t struggle so hard. I’ll have to—oh, hell. Let’s get it over with.” The captain pressed a hypo against her so it hissed, using compressed air to inject her with a sedative.

“What did you put into me?” she demanded.

“Smile, Grace. You’re getting a taste of your own medicine. Don’t tell me you don’t approve.”

She glared at him, struggling. Maddox was stronger than he looked, however, as he manhandled her away from the flitter and toward a hatch.

“No, no,” she said. “Unhand me. I’m a Brethren council member. You don’t dare do this to me.”

“Riker,” Maddox shouted. “I hope I don’t have to inject you as well.”

The sergeant had finished climbing out of the flitter and now stumbled after the captain and his prize.

It took effort for the captain to force Grace to the hatch. He waited for Riker to reach them. “Stand up straight, man.”

The sergeant did the best he could.

“Grace, how are you feeling?”

She blinked several times, turning her head deliberately to stare at him. She actually smiled and then giggled.

“Excellent, we’re ready. Sergeant, if you would be so good as to open the hatch, we’ll head into the spaceport and purchase tickets. Grace, we’re going for a ride. Are you ready?”

“Yes, love,” she said, giggling afterward.

“Maybe you should have given me whatever she’s gotten,” Riker said. “I’d like to feel better.”

“Soon, Sergeant. Now, no more complaining. Remember, you’re a representative of Star Watch. We want to make a good impression no matter the situation.”

Riker straightened and tugged at his tunic. Then he activated the tunnel hatch.

-19-

They weren’t met with any surprises.  Maddox gripped one of Grace’s freed arms and directed her toward a terminal. She giggled from time to time, opened her mouth to say something and then giggled again. She didn’t wear any handcuffs, as the Happy Mist was doing its job.

Soon, the three of them boarded a shuttle, which accelerated from a launch tunnel and ejected from the surface. The pilot and navigator must have begun their run through the debris field maze to the waiting spaceships half a million kilometers from the surface.

Grace sat between Maddox and Riker. The Happy Mist was beginning to wear off, so the captain covertly injected her with a knockout drug. Soon, her eyelids fluttered, and she set her head on Riker’s shoulder, snoring lightly.

Maddox forced himself to relax. The trip would take some time. There were Tortuga security personnel aboard, but he wasn’t worried about them. He had Riker’s revolver and would commandeer the shuttle if the need arose. Distance, they needed distance through the debris field. If they could get far enough—

Don’t jinx this. Relax. Meyers...I might be able to capture Meyers. That would likely solve a lot of mysteries.

***

Dagobert Dan felt wonderfully better. A surgeon had removed the slugs from his body and smeared healing paste on his wounds. He felt euphoric. The Queen had recognized his abilities. Despite all that, he moved stiffly down a corridor, following a line of people. Some of them wept. Some were Merovingians, snarling in contempt at the losers, the weeping prisoners. Some were silent, burdened under heavy loads in huge duffel bags on their shoulders or lugging massive suitcases. Even though he was wounded and healing, every time Dagobert shuffled forward in line, he picked up two monstrous suitcases, carrying them to his next waiting destination.

“Next!” an unseen Tobias shouted from ahead around a corner. “Move your arses. The Queen is leaving and we’re leaving with her. Hurry, I said. Don’t make me pound on you with this club. You’ll regret it if I do.”

Dagobert inhaled through his nostrils. The Queen had noticed him, noticed his fighting strength. She was going to smarten him, make him brighter.

“I want to be bright,” he said to no one in particular. The idea of it—next time, Riker, Maddox and that damned New Man would not trick him. He would trick them and kill them dead, crushing their skulls. That would be so fun, so very fun.

Dagobert laughed, the universe being much better than he’d realized. The Queen had noticed him. That was so wonderful, so very wonderful indeed.

***

Five hundred thousand kilometers away on Victory, Valerie ran onto the bridge.

Galyan turned around. He stood beside the Captain’s Chair. “I am glad you came so fast, Valerie. This is strange and, I think, important. The Tortuga jamming is off, and it has stayed off for over three minutes already.”

“Contact the captain,” Valerie said as she approached the chair.

“I have tried, but he is no longer receiving or has lost his communicator.”

Valerie sat in the chair, her brow furrowed. “Hail the spaceport.”

“I would wait before doing that,” Galyan suggested.

Valerie swiveled around to face him. “Explain that.”

“This is an unscheduled and unwarranted dropping of the jamming field. That would indicate some sort of emergency. What would cause an emergency on Tortuga? I have run the numbers, as you so quaintly put it earlier. The highest probability is that Captain Maddox and the New Men on Tortuga have caused this.”

“If that’s true, wouldn’t they have tried to contact us?”

“In most cases, yes,” Galyan said. “Then, I asked myself, why would the Brethren drop the jamming field? How could it help them?”

“And?”

The small holoimage shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I do not know. It is a mystery. That lends credence to the probability that the captain or the New Men have caused the emergency.”

“So, why shouldn’t I hail the spaceport?”

“Valerie, this is difficult for me to say. But it is intuition.”

“You’re an AI. How can a computer have intuition?”

“That hurts, you know. I am a deified AI, which is a different thing. I have a personality, as you should know very well by now.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, and I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

“Thank you, Valerie.”

“But…” The lieutenant fingered her chin. “Andros, are you scanning for unusual electronic activity?”

She spoke to Andros Crank, a Kai-Kaus Chief Technician: a stout, long-haired individual sitting at the Science Station. The captain had saved him and ten thousand other Kai-Kaus years ago from a Builder Dyson Sphere a thousand light-years from Earth.

“I am scanning,” Andros said in his heavy voice. “I haven’t found—hello. What do we have here?”

Valerie leaned toward him, waiting for an explanation.

“Just a moment,” Andros said, his fat fingers moving across his panel. “I’m detecting something I’ve seen before. Galyan, do you have any idea what this is?”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “Valerie, this is a match to the transportation rays the weird warriors used to travel from Antarctica to the orbital stealth craft.”

“You mean when we faced the Liss cybers?” Valerie asked.

“Yes,” Galyan and Andros said at the same time.

Valerie frowned. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

“It is not probable in any case,” Galyan said.

“Andros, can you tell where the ray is directed?”

“Not with precision,” the Chief Technician said. He manipulated his board. “I think—the battleships, the general vicinity of the battleships.”

Valerie’s right hand slapped against an armrest. “Galyan, what’s the probability the people using the ray are transporting the captain and Riker?”

“Oh. I do not know. That would be bad if they were.”

“Tell me about it,” Valerie muttered. She bent her head in thought and then snapped up. “Communications, hail the battleships. It’s time we had a talk.”

The slender woman at communications—Valerie’s normal post—manipulated her board for a long moment before turning to Valerie. “They’re ignoring the hail, Lieutenant.”

“Maybe it’s time to get their attention,” Valerie said.

“Lieutenant,” the comm officer said, as she stared at a blinking light on her board. “The Brethren Council is hailing us.” Warrant Officer Shell pressed a hand against the bud in her ear, turning to Valerie. “The council representative demands to speak to you.”

Valerie scowled, opened her mouth, shut it and nodded. “Put whoever it is on the main screen.”

A moment later, a scruffy looking man appeared. He had an eye-patch, outrageous sideburns and a red rag tied over his head.

“Are you serious?” Valerie said softly.

“Are you Lieutenant Noonan?” the man asked.

“I am.”

“I’m Roger Castiano, an associate member of the Brethren Council. I have it on good authority that you’re holding Council Member Grace Hyperion. You will immediately release her.”

“Who?” Valerie asked.

Castiano shook his head. “That won’t work with us, as we’re familiar with the tactic, having used it ourselves on many occasions. You’re trying to buy time by claiming ignorance.”

“Excuse me, please,” Valerie said. “But I’m a representative of Star Watch. I do not take kindly to slurs against our organization. If I say I don’t know—”

“Enough,” Castiano said, interrupting. “If you don’t immediately hand over Grace Hyperion, we will execute Captain Maddox.”

Valerie stiffened, blurting, “Do that and the Grand Fleet will arrive and burn your little pirate base to cinders.”

Castiano licked his lips as he grimaced. “Do you deny knowing about a planned assault upon the deep tunnels?”

“Associate Council Member,” Valerie said. “We’ve been waiting for Captain Maddox to report. He missed his scheduled call, and we would like to know the reason why.”

Castiano stared at her with his single eye before turning to the side and saying, “I don’t think she knows.”

“I demand that you put Captain Maddox on the screen,” Valerie said sternly.

Castiano faced her. “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t have him.”

Valerie’s eyes narrowed. “You just said you were going to execute him.”

Castiano raised a hand, showing the minute distance between his thumb and index finger. “That was a small white lie.”

Valerie inhaled, readying to rebuke him. She reconsidered at the last second, recognizing the futility of it. “Why have you ceased jamming?”

“Listen well, Lieutenant. The Council demands that you act peacefully while in orbit around Tortuga. Any military measures will be met in kind by us.”

It took Valerie a moment to register the words’ meaning. “That was out of left field.”

Castiano stared at her.

“Just to be sure,” she said, “are you threatening us?”

“No threats are intended, Lieutenant. I’m simply reminding you that this is a sovereign planet, and we demand that you act with decorum and dignity while in our star system.”

“Valerie,” Galyan said. “May I speak to you in private?”

She glanced at the holoimage, and then turned toward Galyan so she couldn’t be seen speaking. “Oh,” she whispered. “He’s doing what Maddox does to others. Castiano is stalling.”

“Yes, Valerie.”

She faced Roger Castiano. “Call me when you have the captain. Until then, I’m dealing with something else.” She made a chopping motion with her hand.

Warrant Officer Shell cut the connection.

“Get Keith up here,” Valerie said. “Galyan, start warming up the neutron and disruptor cannons. Andros, make sure the shields are at full strength. Those battleships—it’s time we make them take notice of us. I suspect someone is trying to get away, and that means we’re not going to let them until the captain tells us otherwise.”

-20-

“Lieutenant,” said Keith Maker, the ace pilot sitting at the helm. He was a small Scotsman with a cocky attitude, an on-again, off-again boyfriend of Valerie and possibly the best pilot in Star Watch—in his opinion for sure. “The battleships are sliding toward the three Star Watch vessels. They seem to be trying to make it look like an innocent maneuver.”

“I see them,” Valerie said from the Captain’s Chair, as she watched the main screen.

The two battleships in question were a little over 200,000 kilometers from Victory. The giant debris field around Tortuga meant that various vessels could orbit the debris cloud and still be far from another orbiting vessel. The two star cruisers—the New Men vessels—were 350,000 kilometers away, with the battleships between them and Victory.

Valerie eyed the three ex-Star Watch ships that the battleships approached. There was a heavy cruiser, a missile cruiser and a much smaller destroyer. She had no doubt that fanatical Humanity Manifesto crews manned the warships. The crews might have voted to leave Star Watch instead of facing charges from Brigadier Stokes’ Transition Team. The fact that the battleships were heading there indicated they had common cause.

“Galyan,” she said. “Were the battleships modified?”

“I am rechecking the possibility,” the holoimage said. “Yes. I give it an eighty-nine percent probability that each used to be a Bismarck-class battleship. They now have heavier shields, more outer detection gear and thicker armor, oh, and several false or decoy hull areas. Despite the decoy reconfiguration, they have been upgraded—Valerie, they have disruptors instead of heavy laser cannons.”

“I was afraid of that,” she said. “Two upgraded battleships, one heavy cruiser, a missile cruiser and destroyer… This could get ugly.”

“At these ranges, with combined fire, they might smash through our shield and obliterate Victory,” Galyan said.

“Don’t forget the many pirate vessels,” Andros said. “The council member threatened us, remember? Individually, the pirate ships aren’t worth much in a stand-up fight. If they all add their firepower to the battleships…”

“And if some of those haulers are Q-ships,” Keith said over his shoulder.

A Q-ship was a disguised merchant vessel with added military capabilities.

“Enough,” Valerie said. “I didn’t ask for opinions. I’m not Captain Maddox, but you will give me the respect due my position and not shout out whatever you feel.”

“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant,” Andros said. “I meant no disrespect.”

Keith hunched his shoulders and grunted something unintelligible.

Valerie fingered her chin. The Brethren Council had threatened them. The jamming had ceased, and an unknown assailant was using a transport ray that enemies of Star Watch had employed against them on Earth not so long ago.

“Sir,” Warrant Officer Shell said. “One of the battleships is hailing us.”

“Put him or her on the main screen,” Valerie said. “Galyan, run through your data files once you see the person. I want their records and history, assuming they once served in Star Watch.”

A lean woman appeared on the main screen. She had a buzz cut, narrow features and a deep-space tan and wore a stylish red uniform of unknown designation. “I am Patrol Chief Roga and represent the Sovereign Hierarchy of Leviathan.”

“What the hell?” Valerie blurted.

“That is an unusual response,” Roga said sternly. “Do you wish to initiate hostilities against us?”

“I recognize her from the personnel files,” Galyan whispered.

“Just a moment,” Valerie told Roga, swiveling her chair. “Mute her,” she told Shell. Valerie turned to Galyan next. “Give it to me.”

“She is Captain Charlotte Rios of the Battleship Lauenburg, a Bismarck-class vessel as we suspected,” Galyan said. “She was last operating in the Vega System. She fought with the Grand Fleet against the Spacers at the Forbidden Planet. Ah. She once firmly stated her belief in HM Doctrine and formally applied for reassignment to the Political Intelligence Division. That was during Lord High Admiral Fletcher’s term of office.”

“And now she’s a renegade, unable to shift with the political winds,” Valerie said.

“That would be my own conclusion as well,” Galyan said.

“Lieutenant,” Keith said. “Would you allow me to make an observation?”

Valerie nodded to him.

“The Sovereign Hierarchy malarkey is meant to scare us off,” Keith said.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Obvious,” Valerie said.

“Hey!” he said.

Valerie scowled, looking down, angry with herself for becoming sarcastic. She nodded and looked up. “Sorry. That was unwarranted. I agree with you.”

“No problem,” Keith said a second later.

“We’ve solved one mystery,” Valerie said. “They’re all ex-Star Watch people. Have they joined the hidden enemy or joined the Tortuga Brethren? I…” She quit speaking, having almost said, “I don’t know what to do next.”

If all the pirate vessels helped the five ex-Star Watch ships and if some of the haulers were Q-ships, that would be the end of Victory, as they would be severely outgunned at close range.

Valerie noticed the waiting “Patrol Chief Roga” on the main screen. Perhaps it would be best to play along. “Unmute,” she said.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” Valerie said. “The Sovereign Hierarchy of Leviathan—that would put you a long way from home?”

“I’m representing them.”

“Oh. Well. What can I do for you?”

“You can remove your vessel from Tortuga orbit, as we have detected hostile intent from your ship. In the interest of peace, we demand that you do everything in your power to avoid open hostilities with a foreign government.”

Valerie stared at the impostor, with a rebuke on her lips.

“Oh my,” Galyan said.

Valerie glanced at the holoimage, and said over her shoulder, “Mute.” A second passed. “What is it now?”

“Valerie, I have found the captain, as I have been sweeping the debris field. He is in a shuttle and is heading for us.”’

“That’s why she wants us gone,” Valerie said.

“Lieutenant,” Andros said. “The Star Watch vessels are powering up their weapons.”

Valerie snapped her fingers. The others might try to destroy the shuttle and the captain with it. “Battle stations,” she said crisply. “Galyan, go take a look and talk to the captain if you can. Let him know what’s happening out here.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Galyan said, vanishing from sight.

-21-

As Maddox sat in an aisle seat aboard a Tortuga shuttle, he saw Galyan appear in ghost form. The little holoimage floated near the middle ceiling. Galyan couldn’t project himself invisibly because his optic sensors wouldn’t have been able to see a thing if he did.

A second later, Galyan disappeared and reappeared half-merged with the sleeping Grace Hyperion. As quickly and quietly as possible, the Adok AI informed Maddox about the current situation.

The captain rubbed his jaw. Clearly, aboard the shuttle he and Riker were vulnerable to the renegade Star Watch vessels, as the little craft was only halfway through the debris field. Would Ural have foreseen this? It was more than possible. As much as Maddox hated to admit it, his uncle likely knew more about what was going on than he did. The Throne World New Men did have an excellent intelligence agency. Still, he couldn’t rely upon his uncle to bail them out.

Maddox examined Grace Hyperion. Why had Ural given the woman into his keeping? Trust, it had something to do with trust.

“Ah-ha,” Maddox said quietly, believing he understood.

“Sir?” Galyan whispered.

“Tell Valerie to watch the star cruisers,” Maddox whispered. “I believe the answer will come from there.”

“Could you be more specific, sir?”

“Transfer technology, the kind we faced in Antarctica. Do you remember it?”

“I never forget anything, sir.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. Now, Listen, Galyan. I suspect my uncle—that is to say the New Men—are about to acquire or already have acquired the ability to build a small transfer gate.”

“Of the kind we saw in Vostok Station in Antarctica?” asked Galyan.

“Exactly. That was why Ural wanted to split up. He didn’t want to share the tech with Star Watch. I can’t say I blame him, as I wouldn’t want to share it with the Throne World if our roles were reversed.”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. When they stopped, he asked, “Are you suggesting that Ural will have transferred to his star cruisers?”

“I am.”

“I understand, sir. I dearly hope that you are correct. Is that all you would like me to tell Valerie?”

“That’s it,” Maddox said. “She’s sitting in the Captain’s Chair. I expect her to come up with a plan, a good one, and save my hide.”

Galyan waited.

“Now, if you will do as I ordered…” Maddox said.

The ghostly Galyan vanished.

***

“That’s it?” Valerie asked, after Galyan finished giving his report. “He doesn’t have one of his Maddox plans?”

“I think there was a hidden message in what he said,” Galyan replied.

“Don’t hold back. What is it?”

“You are in command. The responsibility is yours. Therefore, you had better come up with a plan, a good old-fashioned college try.”

“A what?” she asked.

“Do your best, Valerie. The captain is counting on you.”

“Oh, damn,” she muttered, staring at the deck. She sucked in air, stared longer and sat up. “Andros, focus on the star cruisers. Is there any unusual activity over there?”

“You mean other than the transfer ray?” Andros asked.

“What?” Valerie said.

“I was waiting until you finished speaking with Galyan,” Andros said. “The ray was in the general vicinity, but I can’t say for certain—”

“Look at that,” Keith said, interrupting. “The star cruisers are rotating and aiming at the renegade flotilla.”

Valerie leaned forward, staring at the distant star cruisers. They were on the other side of the five renegade Star Watch vessels. “Helm,” she said. “Let’s start moving toward the enemy. Maybe all the pirates will join in, and maybe they won’t. If there are Q-ships—Galyan, are the cannons ready?”

“Which ship should I aim at?” Galyan asked.

“The renegade flagship,” she said. “If we can take out the heavies, the others won’t have anything to hide behind. If it’s a fight they want, let’s make it hot from the get-go.”

“The star cruisers have target lock,” Andros said.

“Do they have fusion or disruptor cannons?” Valerie asked.

A yellow disruptor beam speared from each star cruiser. The two beams crossed the 150,000 kilometers to stab at Battleship Lauenburg.

“That answers my question,” Valerie said. “Lock onto the same vessel.”

A hum had begun on the bridge as the antimatter engines increased power.

“Fire when ready,” Valerie said.

The purple neutron beam fired first. It was a shorter-ranged weapon. Even so, it stabbed across 200,000 kilometers to hit the Lauenburg’s red-glowing shield. Seconds later, Victory’s disruptor cannon fired, and another yellow disruptor beam struck the enemy shield.

“The battleships are firing,” Andros said.

Disruptor beams reached out from the enemy battleships, striking one of the star cruisers.

“Let’s hope it’s too little, too late,” Valerie said.

The Lauenburg’s shield that encircled the vessel had changed from red to brown and was now heading toward black.

“Enemy missiles are launching,” Andros declared.

Valerie nodded. The enemy’s missile cruiser was unloading. The first of the missiles began its run, heading for the star cruisers. Even though it might be a fast missile, it would take time to reach its target, nothing like speed-of-light beams.

“Tortuga Central is hailing us,” the comm officer told Valerie.

The lieutenant waved that off.

“They’re all launching missiles,” Andros said. “And that includes the one battleship and two nearby haulers. I think the renegades are firing everything they have.”

Valerie’s fist flew into the air.

“The Tortuga Brethren rep is making threatening demands, Lieutenant,” the comm officer said, with her hand against one ear.

“I want that battleship before I talk to the Brethren,” Valerie said.

Masses of missiles now burned for the star cruisers as even more launched. Many of the missiles came from two haulers that were bigger in tonnage than the battleships.

“Q-ships,” Keith said. “I bet there are more of them hiding out here, too.”

“Tortuga pirate vessels have begun powering up,” Andros said. “Maybe you should speak to the Brethren member hailing us.”

Valerie frowned but nodded a moment later, turning to the comm officer. “Put him on the screen.”

A split-screen appeared, the orbital space battle on one-half and one-eyed, piratical Roger Castiano on the other.

“Lieutenant, this breaks the Tortuga Concord,” Castiano said. “We expect all vessels orbiting here to obey our strictures.”

“Chose sides, Castiano,” Valerie said. “We have no grudge against you or Tortuga, but we won’t allow renegade Star Watch personnel to steal our equipment.”

It took Castiano a moment. “You mean the ships they’re in?”

“That’s right,” Valerie said. “This isn’t about you in the slightest. Or are you harboring Star Watch outlaws?”

Castiano failed to answer the question.

“Very well,” Valerie said. “I’m giving the Brethren fair warning. If you attack this vessel, you can expect the Grand Fleet’s appearance this year or the next.”

“And if we hold off?” Castiano asked.

“Star Watch will leave Tortuga in peace.”

“You can guarantee this?”

It was on Valerie’s lips to say yes, but she couldn’t do it. She would be lying, and she abhorred lies. “No guarantees,” she said, “as I’m just a lieutenant, the second in command of a starship. I will tell the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch about your conduct and give him my opinion if he asks for it.”

Castiano eyed her slyly. “If we aid the renegades today, Star Watch won’t ever hear about what we did because your ship and you will cease to exist.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Valerie said. “Word eventually leaks out, as you likely know all too well.”

Castiano bit his lower lip, staring to the side, waiting, waiting—he nodded sharply to someone else and faced Valerie. “We won’t interfere, Lieutenant. This is a battle between Star Watch factions. Please refrain from damaging any of our vessels or affiliates, however, as that will cause a reaction from us.”

“Understood,” Valerie said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Castiano disappeared as someone at Tortuga Central cut the connection.

The battle on the main screen expanded.

“Now they’re launching missiles at us,” Andros said.

Valerie nodded, with her eyes on the distant battleship. The shield had turned black and wavered. Abruptly, the shield collapsed.

“Yes!” Keith shouted, pumping a fist into the air.

Three disruptor beams and one neutron beam hammered at the battleship’s armor.

The other renegade vessels began to accelerate away from the stricken battleship, and that included the two Q-ship haulers.

The beams burned into battleship armor, digging, digging—the Lauenburg began accelerating away from its brethren.

“There is something strange going on over there,” Galyan said. “Do you detect it, Andros?”

“Negative,” the Kai-Kaus Chief Technician said.

“Check your ultra-wavelengths,” Galyan suggested.

“Checking,” Andros said, as he manipulated his panel.

At that point, one of the disruptor beams must have breached the Lauenburg’s hull armor and begun probing within the vessel. Likely, the deadly disruptor beam burned through decks, bulkheads and other material to reach the antimatter engine. The engine exploded, the antimatter blast blowing the ship apart like a hand grenade. The super-heated blast consumed matter and hurled the rest, spreading gamma and X-rays, EMP and heat.

The nearby vessels’ shields went from red to brown.

That’s when fifty or more warheads ignited among the outward-speeding missiles, creating a large whiteout zone in the sensor readings. All the erupting warheads were shaped charges, sending gamma and X-ray radiation outward and not in.

“We’re safe from the premature detonations out here,” Andros said.

“What about the captain’s shuttle?” Valerie asked.

“It’s farther away than we are from the ignitions,” Andros said. “He should be okay, as part of the debris field will help shield him.”

“Are any missiles heading at him?” Valerie asked.

“I can’t tell yet,” Andros said. “The whiteout is still in effect.”

“Galyan?” asked Valerie.

“It is no different for me,” Galyan told her.

It took time, but finally the sensor whiteout caused by the multiple blasts began to dissipate.

“I don’t believe it,” Andros said, studying his board.

“What don’t you believe?” Valerie demanded.

“Galyan,” Andros said. “What are you seeing?”

“Regarding what?” the holoimage asked.

“The renegades,” Andros said.

“Oh,” Galyan said. His eyelids fluttered before he turned to Valerie. “Lieutenant, the enemy vessels have vanished.”

“You mean destroyed,” Valerie said.

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered more. “No, Valerie, I mean vanished. I detect debris from one battleship and one destroyed hauler. That is it. The others have vanished.”

“Have they cloaked?” Valerie asked, dumbfounded.

“No,” Andros said, answering for Galyan. “He’s right. They’re gone, not cloaked. I checked for that.”

“How did they vanish?” Valerie asked.

Andros nodded. “That, Lieutenant, is a good question. I suggest they launched the missiles to create the sensor whiteout so none of us would see how they did whatever they did.”

“Ah…” Galyan said. “Yes. That is clever and just as clever reasoning on your part.”

Valerie glanced from Andros to Galyan. “Vanished,” she said. “That can’t be good.”

“Who’s going to tell the captain?” Keith asked from helm.

No one answered.

-22-

Maddox, Riker and Grace Hyperion reached Starship Victory, landing in a hangar bay. A waiting medical team hurried Riker away on a grav unit. Valerie met the captain afterward and told him what had occurred during the short engagement. Maddox nodded, silently absorbing the information.

“You don’t seem upset about it,” Valerie said.

Maddox glanced at her. “We’re dealing with a Methuselah Woman. Meyers obviously has access to technology superior to some of ours. Upset, no. Worried, I’ll admit it.” The captain glanced at a subdued and listening Grace Hyperion.

“Who is she?” Valerie asked.

“A prisoner,” Maddox said.

“Is she Grace Hyperion?” Valerie asked.

“Indeed,” Maddox said, with the lift of an eyebrow.

“The Brethren Council has been demanding her return.”

“Is that so?” Maddox said. “Well, that’s not my problem.”

Valerie gave him a funny look.

“She’s Golden Ural’s prisoner, not ours,” the captain said. “Technically.”

“Technically. I see,” Valerie said, sarcasm leaking through. “So, uh, when did we start holding prisoners for the New Men?”

“Enough of that,” Maddox said. “I owe my uncle. Now, I need to speak with him.” Maddox eyed Grace Hyperion. “Keep a watch on her, would you?”

Without waiting for Valerie’s answer, Maddox moved away from them, asking a marine for a comm unit. When Maddox had it, he said, “Galyan.”

The holoimage appeared as the marine walked away.

Maddox indicated the unit. “Patch me through to the Boreas. Ask for Golden Ural.”

“Captain,” Ural soon said through the comm unit.

Maddox explained the situation to his uncle, giving him Valerie’s assessment of what had happened.

“We concluded the same thing,” Ural said. “Meyers escaped. That’s all that really matters.”

“If she did escape, they used a superior form of transportation, one unknown to us.”

“Hmm, yes,” Ural said. “If you could take a shuttle and meet me three-quarters of the way to return Grace Hyperion to me, I would appreciate it.”

“Three-quarters?” asked Maddox, perplexed.

“Yes, from Victory to the Boreas.”

Maddox’s eyebrows arched upward. “Why not halfway?”

“Are you such a stickler for formalities?” Ural asked.

“Are you?”

“I’m afraid so, Captain. I rather insist.”

“It’s important?”

“Not to you, but to…well, not to me either. But there is a reason for it.”

“One you’re not going to tell me?” Maddox asked.

“That is correct,” Ural said.

“And this concerns Meyers?”

“Not the issue of three-quarters of the way, but what we discuss together will.”

“Fine, fine,” Maddox said. “How soon—”

“Immediately,” Ural said.

Maddox stared at the comm unit before he put it back to his ear. “Is it wise to travel by shuttle this near Tortuga?”

“Oh, yes, as it lets the pirates know that Star Watch and the Throne World can work together. That should give the Brethren pause if they’re thinking of raiding our respective planets and ships.”

“Is the three-quarters display for them?”

“Really, Captain, we already went over that part. Don’t be tedious.”

“Yeah…” Maddox said. “Very well, I’m on my way.”

***

Maddox floated through a short plastic tube connecting the two shuttles. The two star cruisers were visible from it, as they were closer than Victory. The debris field around the dwarf planet was also quite visible and prominent.

The captain had changed into his dress uniform complete with a holstered blaster at his hip. He was sure he knew now why Ural had asked for him to make the three-quarters of the way portion of the journey. New Men were extraordinarily rank and class conscious among themselves, as status was primarily gained through excellence, especially in martial matters. It was possible there were New Men spies among his uncle’s crew, spies to report to other politically powerful New Men. The three-quarters travel for Maddox would show the spies that Star Watch deeply respected Ural—or something like that, anyway.

The outer hull hatch opened, although no one greeted the captain. He would have been surprised if someone had. He entered the airlock, went through the cycling and stepped into the shuttle complete with gravity. He followed a blinking floor-light along a corridor until he reached a hall hatch. It opened. Maddox ducked his head, entering a Spartan chamber with a small round high table and two long-legged stools.

Ural stood on the other side of the table, which held a blaster and a reader.

“Long time no see,” Maddox said.

“Where’s my prisoner?”

Maddox stood silently and then tapped his chin with an index finger. “You never used a shuttle to leave Tortuga. That leads me to believe you captured and used a—let’s call it a Merovingian Transfer Gate.”

It was Ural’s turn to remain silent.

“I assume I’m correct,” Maddox said.

“Assume as you wish. It is your prerogative, after all. More to the point, though, where is the prisoner I gave into your custody?”

“The New Men, as others call you, wish for correct protocol and respect. I have said hello, as that was what ‘long time no see’ meant.” After explaining, Maddox stared at his uncle.

“Hello,” Ural finally muttered.

“Ah. Thank you. As to your second point, your prisoner is still in my shuttle.”

“Why not bring her here immediately?”

“I thought it would better to do that after we’re done,” Maddox said.

“I see… Is this a demonstration of distrust?”

“No, a matter of form, just like saying hello,” Maddox said. “Or meeting halfway instead of three-quarters.”

“Oh. Well.”

Having made his point, Maddox eyed his uncle’s blaster on the table and drew his own, approaching the table and putting it beside the other.

Ural dipped his head as if honoring Maddox for following correct protocol. “Would you care for a glass of wine before we get started?”

“Thank you, but no. We should get to the point.”

“Then by all means, proceed,” Ural said.

“Thanks,” Maddox said, drawing a breath. “Lisa Meyers escaped Tortuga and the star system. That seems likely anyway, given what happened. She transferred from Tortuga to one of the waiting vessels, and they escaped via an unknown method. I believe you were going to tell me something important related to that”

Ural indicated the reader.

“Ah.” Maddox reached for the reader.

“Just a moment before we proceed further,” Ural said.

Maddox looked up.

“I take it you know about Cook speaking to the Emperor.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maddox said.

“It is germane to the issue. Your Lord High Admiral used his Long-Range Builder Communicator to call the Throne World. Cook told the Emperor how you and Ludendorff faced the Prime Saa on Luna at the end of the secret war against the Liss cybers. According to Cook, the Prime Saa bargained for its life, or at least pretended to in order to gain time to marshal its remaining forces. Critical to our purpose, it offered to reveal the maturing and evil plans of Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. According to Cook, you two declined the offer, killing the Prime Saa instead in order to free humanity from further Liss machinations.”

Maddox nodded. Essentially, that was what had happened. He wasn’t sure why Cook had told the Emperor, though.

“I realize some of this might be a rehash for you,” Ural said. “But it is important that we have our facts straight.”

“No problem. Please, proceed.”

Ural dipped his head. “According to what we know, Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers was in stasis for thousands of years with a Builder and crew in a vessel that had visited a Jotun gas giant. A Yon Soth’s ray from a dubious machine on the Forbidden Planet awakened her several years ago, and she soon began intriguing against the Commonwealth. Cook desired to know more about her and sought information from Methuselah Man Strand via the Emperor.”

Maddox nodded. Strand was a prisoner on the Throne World, as the captain had brought the Methuselah Man there many years ago already.

“I’m sorry to say that Strand fed us gibberish regarding Lisa Meyers,” Ural said. “It was a twisted tale, and we concluded almost all of it was lies.”

“Indeed.”

“Since then, the Emperor and I have come to believe that Strand fears Meyers.”

“You questioned Strand yourself?” Maddox asked.

“I did.”

“And you feel that you know Strand well enough to judge whether or not—”

“No more,” Ural said, holding up a palm. “You’re my nephew, and you’ve become something more than what you were, but I won’t let you insult me with endless questions as if I’m your subordinate, particularly not on my shuttle.”

A momentary flash of heat surged through Maddox, but he suppressed it.

“Ah…” Ural said, who watched him. “That was well done. I hadn’t expected such emotional control in you yet.”

“Never mind about that,” Maddox said testily. “If you questioned Strand and if he lied to you…”

Ural looked away before regarding Maddox again. “It’s difficult to know how much I should explain. There are some on the Throne World…well. We won’t address that. Instead, we should make this quick, and that means sticking to the issue. You thwarted Meyers once already—when she attempted to install a puppet president as head of the Commonwealth—and I think she desperately resents that. I’ve also come to believe that she’s mentally unbalanced.”

Maddox opened his mouth.

“A moment, please,” Ural said. “I don’t mean to say she’s mad. She clearly isn’t. She outthought and outmaneuvered both of us, and then did it again once we gained an advantage due to that idiot Dagobert and your resourceful sergeant. What I mean by unbalanced is that her ideals are warped. Do you remember what that android told you, the one who joined your crew when you jumped to the Scutum-Centaurus Spiral Arm and found the Sovereign Hierarchy of Leviathan?”

“Oh, you’re talking about Batrun.”

“Yes, him,” Ural said. “He told you about the Yon Soth on the Forbidden Planet, the machine and evil plan.”

“All right, I’m going to have to stop you there,” Maddox said. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned the Yon Soth, its machine and hallucination rays. How did you learn about Batrun and the Old One?”

Ural made an offhanded gesture. “Do you remember when I told you that the Throne World has the best intelligence service?”

“How could I forget? You mention it every ten minutes.”

“My knowledge is yet another indicator of this truth,” Ural said.

“Fine, fine, fine,” Maddox said. “Fletcher killed the Yon Soth when the Grand Fleet defeated the Spacers and bombarded the Forbidden Planet with hell-burners and asteroids.”

“I’m well aware of that, of course,” Ural said. “If you’ll recall, Batrun told you that before the Yon Soth died under the Grand Fleet’s planetary bombardment, it sent out bizarre waves. We know those waves awakened and compelled various creatures to attack humanity. We think the Liss were among those.”

“And you’ve said that Lisa Meyers is another.”

“I’m inclined to think so, now more than ever. I suspect you will be, too, after reading what she’s written.”

Maddox pointed at the reader.

“Exactly,” Ural said.

“Should I take the reader with me or read it here?”

“I cannot allow you to take the reader for reasons I won’t address.”

“May I then?” asked Maddox, indicating the device.

Ural pulled a long-legged stool to him, sitting on it. “Please, be my guest.”

Maddox picked up the reader, sat on his own stool, put his elbows on the high round table and began to read.

***

From My Manifesto, Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers:

Humanity as a collective whole has no idea of the nature of its monstrous crime, its heinous act of procreative aggression. As a vast herd, humans are too dull, too bovine in their instincts to see further than the dinner plate or a meter beyond their pecker. They consume, fornicate and exude spawn at a prodigious rate, filling their worlds with ignorant spratlings. They fart, belch, drool and spew hollow words of vanity, boasting of deeds that would cause a donkey to blush for shame. Yet, that is not mankind’s grossest crime.

Listen closely and see if you can comprehend the grand mystery. During my deepest studies, I discovered that there is an essence of life in the universe: a force, a drive, an engine that propels a race to achieve—in whatever manner they are capable of doing. This force is a hidden property, but it is there, I assure you. And the secret of the cosmos is that only one species in a region can claim the semi-divine spark as their own. In doing so, they starve all others in that region of the wonderful and sublime catalyst.

Do you finally begin to comprehend my point? Isn’t it obvious? For reasons I cannot fathom, numbers have a higher claim on the life catalyst than genius, virtuosity or brilliance. In this instance, mass is more powerful than lonely talent. It is as if a million morons braying for their team have more claim upon existence than a single beautiful opera singer of exquisite skill and training.

Here, then, is humanity’s vile crime. They exploded onto the Builders’ sphere of inhabitation. Even more obscene, the gracefully Serene Ones aided mankind and watched them seed world after world, flooding the star systems with their bawling broods. As humanity’s reach bloated outward, they began to drain the life force from the far fewer Builders. As the life force drained from them, the Wonderful Ones became lax and indifferent to their sad fate. At last, the dwindling Builders departed or died, leaving their former region to the crass trillions of belching, bellowing humans.

Yet, fate intervened, as I awoke from my long slumber. Appalled at what I found, I analyzed the situation carefully, discovered the secret truth of life and concluded the obvious solution. Dare I say it? The plan I evolved was as brilliant and as simple as sin.

Now, you must surely see it. If not, I will explain. I will eradicate mankind in all his various forms—I mean total genocide for normals, New Men, Spacers, all—and the life force they misused will contract into a seething ball of potential, waiting for the next turn of the wheel. At that moment, I will reintroduce the few Builders left, and the life catalyst will enter and reenergize them so a new era of Builder brilliance will reemerge into the universe. That, my dear ones, is my goal, is my driving purpose. We are at war with crass humanity in order to bring about the perfect Builder Millennium. We strive in order for truth and beauty to exist instead of the maggot hordes of milling mankind.

What, I ask you, could be nobler than that?

***

Reading, internalizing and memorizing Meyers’s words, Maddox thoughtfully set the device onto the table, looking at his uncle.

“She’s mad,” Ural said.

“I have a different word for it,” Maddox said quietly. “Demonic.”

Ural cocked his head, obviously considering the idea. After a time, he nodded. “Demonic is an interesting description for the Yon Soths, the Old Ones. The one on the Forbidden Planet sent out waves or mind rays, as I’ve said, and as Batrun told you. Might the rays have twisted the minds receiving them into a Yon Soth-like pattern—that is to say, demonically? The Liss cybers certainly seemed devilish enough.”

“Planning for human genocide, especially now that it’s on such a large scale—greater than Human Space as she’s included you and the Spacers—is demonic.”

“You’re right,” Ural said. “Mad or unbalanced was imprecise. Demonic better captures the flavor of her thinking. Lisa Meyers is logical, following her ideals with cold zeal, if that makes sense. But for a human—and Methuselah People are certainly that—to think along demonic lines corrupts their essential nature. I would suggest that at this point, Lisa Meyers can make mad or demonic leaps of logic that would baffle someone who thinks along more human or natural lines. Those leaps of logic might even have baffled her old self.”

“Crazy people are often quite logical, within their own false reality,” Maddox said. “If someone believes everyone is plotting against them, going into a shop and gunning down fifty random people makes sense to that person. But I’m curious about something else. What do you think about her theory?”

“You’re referring to the life-force idea?”

“I am.”

“It’s sheer nonsense.”

“And why is that?”

“Must I state the obvious?” Ural asked. “Firstly, the Builders did not sink into apathy after humanity began seeding the stars, but before the human race left Earth. Meyers may have missed that, though, because she was in stasis while it happened. She went to sleep while the Builders were vigorous and awoke with them gone. Clearly, she made her conclusions and developed her theses then. Perhaps the Yon Soth ray corrupted her mind, and this was the conclusion she reached through her ‘demonic’ thinking as you’ve suggested.”

“Also,” Ural added, “it’s clearly false that vast herds of retards—for instance—trump a lone superior of intellect or ability simply because there are hordes of them and only one of him. As evidence, I cite the Throne World and its denizens versus the seething commonality of submen.”

“Yet,” Maddox said, “isn’t it true that New Men need regular women to keep their race alive? That doesn’t strike me as a long-term survival trait or a sign of superiority.”

“You tread on dangerous ground with such comments, Captain, especially as you’ve kept Grace aboard your shuttle.”

“I see,” Maddox said. “New Men—or superiors, if you wish—dislike examining the truth if it personally hurts?”

Ural looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Perhaps there is a reason the Spacers think of you as the di-far. You…” Ural shrugged as if losing interest in the subject.

Maddox decided not to push it. He eyed the reader, thinking. Once he returned to Victory, he would have to repeat Meyer’s writing into a recorder, from memory. He glanced at his uncle as another thought struck.

“The Yon Soth of the Forbidden Planet is still waging war against us,” Maddox said, “but he’s doing it from the grave.”

“A poetic way to think of it,” Ural said.

“Do you believe Meyers is using her normal thought patterns, or taking on more of the Yon Soth’s patterns as time goes on?”

“An excellent question,” Ural said. “Her use of drugs to twist submen into Merovingians seems more Yon Soth than Methuselah Woman. However, the truth is I don’t know enough to make a precise judgment.”

Maddox nodded. “I would like to know where you acquired this text.”

“I understand, but the Emperor has forbidden me to say.”

“Perhaps you feel compelled to tell me anyway,” Maddox said. “You are my uncle, after all.”

“Perhaps I do feel some compulsion in that regard, but you and I must both remember that I’m the Emperor’s cousin first.”

“I see. Well, do you have any hint as to the means Meyers will use against us next?”

“I do not.”

“Do you have any advice?”

“Diligently hunt for Lisa Meyers and kill her,” Ural said. “That was my goal in following you to find her on Tortuga. If you find yourself unable to eliminate her, capture her as you did Strand. I’ll add one more point. I believe she’s more dangerous than either Strand or Ludendorff. Lisa Meyers may be the most dangerous of all the Methuselah People and you should act accordingly.”

“I appreciate the advice and the heads-up. Is there anything else?”

“Indeed,” Ural said. “I suggest you allow me to add a few superiors to your crew in case you come upon Meyers before I do.”

“New Men on Victory?” asked Maddox.

“If you wish to say it that way: yes. Remember, Lisa Meyers is extremely deadly, and she wishes to exterminate us as well as you. A few superiors might make the difference to your finding and killing her.”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, Uncle, I’m going to have to decline the offer.”

“I knew you would, but the Emperor wished for me to make the request.”

Maddox wondered about that. Was the Emperor afraid, or as afraid of anything as a New Man would allow himself to be? How would Meyers attack humanity next? Surely, the Merovingians were part of it. The captain inhaled sharply. It was time to get back to Victory.

Maddox held out his hand. Ural examined it before reaching out and shaking it.

“Good luck, Uncle. It was interesting being captive together and enjoyable escaping and wreaking havoc on our enemies. If you find and kill Meyers, I hope you’ll let us know.”

“I will, and I hope you’ll do the same for us,” Ural said.

“You can count on it.”

“Until we meet again, Captain Maddox, good luck hunting.”

“The same to you, sir,” Maddox said. “As soon as I reach my shuttle, I’ll send Grace Hyperion though the link.”

Ural’s eyes glowed with anticipation.

On that note, Maddox took his leave.

-23-

Captain Maddox returned to Victory as the vessel readied for a star-drive jump. He didn’t go to the bridge, but thoughtfully walked along various corridors. During the walk, Galyan appeared to inform him Valerie was ready to make the first jump.

Maddox nodded absently, instructing Galyan to tell her to go ahead.

They made a jump of four light-years, heading back toward Human Space and the Commonwealth.

After recovering from the slight Jump Lag, Maddox headed for the Long-Range Builder Communicator Chamber. Victory was one of the few Star Watch vessels outfitted with the advanced Builder technology.

Maddox sat at a couch, the bulky piece of communication equipment looking rather antiquated given its function. He unhooked the microphone and initiated a long-range communication back to Earth in Geneva at Star Watch Headquarters.

A flunky answered, asking Maddox to wait as she searched for the Lord High Admiral.

Ten minutes later, gruff-voiced Admiral Cook spoke: “Captain Maddox, is that you?”

“Yes, Admiral, I’m ready to make a report. Are you recording?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“I do,” Maddox said.

There was a delay. “Go ahead, son. I’m ready.”

Maddox gave a report about the events on Tortuga, the New Men, the Merovingians, Meyers and her ultimate desire.

“You’ve been busy,” Cook said. “This is all rather…disconcerting, to say the least. Human genocide by a maniac with the brains to deliver—I don’t like this one bit. We need time to reconsolidate the Commonwealth and particularly Star Watch. Hell, son, we’re in the middle of cleaning up one of the worst messes we’ve ever dealt with. This was the closest we’ve come to a civil war. But you know all that. Meyers and her Merovingians all got clean away, you say?”

“Not Battleship Lauenburg, sir.”

“Traitors to Star Watch are with that witch, eh?” Cook muttered. “They can give her the inside scoop—what do you propose, Captain? You usually have a plan.”

“That’s just it, sir. I don’t know what to do other than hunt for her, and I’m uncertain where to start.”

“What does that snob Ludendorff think you should do?”

“To be honest, sir, I haven’t asked him yet.”

“Hmm… I’m not sure I want Victory nosing around the Commonwealth just yet. We have enough trouble on our hands trying to find all the HM agitators, seeing whom we can rehabilitate and who needs internment. Some of your exploits are what caused good people in Star Watch to fall for HM propaganda in the first place.”

“Yes, sir,” Maddox said.

“They were wrong, of course, dead wrong. Hell’s bells, son, you saved us from the Liss cybers. Do you think Meyers had anything to do with that mess?”

“I don’t, sir.”

“What about the situation in Antarctica when the Merovingians kidnapped the Iron Lady? That happened when we were in the thick of it with the Liss. You’re suggesting that was just a coincidence?”

“Maybe not completely,” Maddox said. “Golden Ural suggested that the Liss were motivated by the Yon Soth ray. The same ray had pushed Meyers. There doesn’t seem to be any connection between the two other than that. The Merovingians tampered with my grand—with the Iron Lady’s mind. Has anything been done to reinstate her as head of Intelligence?”

“I’m working on it,” Cook said evasively.

“Wait a minute. I’m forgetting. Isn’t there a report that Merovingians attempted to kidnap Becker in the Ardennes Forest?”

“Say, that’s right. I remember reading that too.”

“The attempt would suggest Meyers was working on her own project while the Liss cybers worked on theirs,” Maddox said. “And that suggests that whatever Meyers intends will take place on or near Earth.”

“Hmm… You might have a point. I still don’t want you back here just yet. There are too many frayed nerves all around. Remember, that was one of the reasons you headed into the Beyond, to help keep the peace in Star Watch.”

Maddox drummed his fingers on the table holding the bulky communicator. “The people on Pluto haven’t detected anything?” Maddox was referring to the Builder Scanner installed on Pluto. The ancient device was capable of scanning hundreds of light-years away and could calibrate for wide or narrow scans.

“Say, that’s right,” Cook said. “There was a report about a horrendous event in the 82 G. Eridani System. It happened to the populated planet of Olmstead.”

“Uh, what’s that?” asked Maddox.

“The planet Olmstead was literally pulverized into pieces.”

“What? How did it happen?”

“Unknown. No one survived the event.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” Cook said. “The operators on Pluto made a standard sweep and found the disaster with the Long-Range Builder Scanner. Six hundred and fifty million people perished when Olmstead cracked and separated into chunks and debris.”

Maddox sat back, his chest cold. “That means someone possesses a planet killer.”

“You think Olmstead has something to do with Meyers?” Cook asked.

“Don’t you, sir?”

Several moments passed. “Now see here, son, I’m the Lord High Admiral. You don’t question me. I question you.”

“Yes, sir,” Maddox said.

“But you are correct about that being a planet killer. Yes, yes, I remember now. One of the Patrol officers suggested that several asteroids were missing from the system’s main belt. Pieces of what might have been those asteroids were found among the planetary pieces and debris.”

“That’s it then,” Maddox said. “That was a genocidal weapon.”

“What weapon?” Cook demanded angrily.

“Whatever took the asteroids and hurled them at the planet.”

“That was what some of the Patrol hotheads suggested happened,” Cook said. “But what you and they are suggesting is flatly impossible.”

“Sir, respectfully, a smashed planet needs a cause.”

“There’s no denying that, of course,” Cook said. “Does it have to be Meyers’ work, though?”

“I think it’s our best lead so far. There were no survivors you say?”

“None that the Patrol people found. And they swept the system several times, looking for clues.”

“Lord High Admiral,” Maddox said. “I request permission to analyze the star system firsthand. If anyone has a talent to figure out how it happened, it would be my people.”

Cook swore over the Long-Range Builder Comm. “I already told you about that, Captain. Just because you think—”

“Sir, if this isn’t Meyers, who is it?”

“How in the hell should I know that?”

“Exactly, sir,” Maddox said. “Maybe it’s someone else with a Yon Soth desire, a demonic wish to murder millions, billions and maybe even an entire race from existence.”

“Now look here,” Cook said. “According to your report, Meyers was on Tortuga when this happened, or must have been en route to the dwarf planet. How could she be demolishing planets at the same time? While you’re trying to figure out this mystery, she’ll be cooking up trouble elsewhere. You’re not the only person in Star Watch that can solve a mystery, you know?”

“That is obviously true, sir. However, I am the best we have at it.”

There was silence on the other end.

Maddox wondered if he’d gone too far saying that.

“Son, you’re a royal pain in the ass,” Cook finally said. “It’s no wonder people are always trying to kill you. However, the reason I’m the Lord High Admiral again is I can see past that… Yes. I grant you permission. Come in from the Beyond. Return to the Commonwealth and head straight for the 82 G. Eridani System. Figure out what happened there. And see if you can go there without troubling anyone else. Maybe if you’re quiet enough, you can remain in the abandoned star system until the political heat starts to simmer down.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“I’m sure you will, Captain.”

“Please give my regards to the Iron Lady. I dearly hope we can find a way to reinstate her.”

“You can’t do a thing about that, but maybe I can. Good luck hunting, Captain.”

“Yes, sir,” Maddox said, bemused. That was the second person to wish him that. Did it mean anything? He couldn’t see how, but it was still interesting.

-24-

Several days later and many light-years away from Victory, massive Dagobert Dan eyed the men coming toward him with distrust.

It had been a week since he’d crouched, moving through a gateway made with white lances and powered by packs. There had been a feeling of disorientation and movement, and then he’d stood in a large hangar bay aboard a spaceship of some kind. That ship had soon moved, and it had made everyone aboard sick, causing vomiting, stomach cramps, searing headaches, diarrhea and other maladies. In fact, he had regressed, becoming sicker than most. A doctor had examined him, giving him awful pills to swallow. They had helped, though.

Now, after being bedridden the longest, the doctor had released Dagobert from medical. He was stiff, but his bullet and lance wounds had healed sufficiently because of the medicine he’d received before entering the transfer gate.

Dagobert didn’t know the name of the ship, although he knew it was a hauler. It was huge. He should know. He’d been walking a while already, nearing the place the doctor had told him to go.

The trouble was the four men in armor—Merovingian armor—approached him in a purposeful manner. He finally recognized their leader, Tobias, the Queen’s Champion.

Dagobert halted. He was wearing a green hospital gown and had started with paper slippers. The slippers had rubbed away, so he was barefoot and felt vulnerable, hating the sensation. None of the approaching four carried lances. They did have leather saps and batons at the ready.

“What do you want?” Dagobert shouted.

Tobias spoke quietly to the other three. Two of them laughed.

The double-sized corridor did not possess any nearby hatches. It was go forward or backward. That was it. In that case—

“Are you making jokes about me?” Dagobert shouted. In the old days, he wouldn’t have said a thing. He would have been too afraid they would call him names. But he’d talked to the Queen. She’d seen how powerful he was. He’d killed some of the Merovingians who had made fun of him in the past. He was a different Dagobert, knowing something about his combat ability, that it was superior to just about everyone who wasn’t a back-shooting liar like Sergeant Riker.

“Dagobert, Dagobert,” Tobias called as the four neared. “What are you doing wearing that stupid dress?”

“It ain’t a dress. It’s a gown. I’ve been in the hospital.”

“They wear dresses in the hospital, do they?” asked Tobias.

Dagobert balled his hands into fists. Maybe he’d bash them around some. How would they like to laugh with no teeth?

Tobias halted several meters from him. The others stopped behind Tobias. “Well, come with us, Dagobert,” the champion said.

“Come where?” Dagobert said loudly.

Tobias scowled. “Wherever I tell you, you idiot.”

“You’re the idiot!”

Tobias smiled cruelly. “Now isn’t that interesting. You’re insulting your commanding officer. Do you know the penalty for that?”

Dagobert’s forehead furrowed with lines that deepened the longer he thought about it.

“Punishment,” Tobias said. “Now hop to it, you dope. Do what I tell you.”

Dagobert stopped scowling and raised his right hand, showing Tobias a long, thick bird finger. “Sit and spin,” the massive Merovingian added.

Tobias flushed with color, and his grip on the baton tightened until his knuckles glistened white. “That’s it. Come on,” he told the others, rushing forward as he spoke.

Embarrassment added to Dagobert’s frustration. He’d hated his paper slippers having rubbed away, and he hated this green gown with his ass hanging out. With a roar, he charged Tobias.

Did the roar cause the champion to pause for just a microsecond? It was possible, as Tobias lost a half-step and another Merovingian charged a bit ahead. That Merovingian’s eyes bulged at the sound and fury of the roar. He began to swing his sap. Dagobert’s right fist smashed against the Merovingian’s face. The nose bone shattered, and the man’s head jerked back, catapulting him backward. It was a vicious and herculean blow. And it was possible the sight of it caused fear to wash through the other three.

Tobias led them, and he hit Dagobert with the baton. The massive Merovingian roared again, swatted and punched around him. The others kept hitting back with the batons and saps, battering him with cruel, vicious blows. Before they laid him low, Dagobert took out another of their number. Then, he crashed onto the floor, landing on his hands and knees.

Tobias should have given him another chance to obey the order. Instead, he and the other hit Dagobert repeatedly against the back of the skull, driving Dagobert unconscious onto the deck and finally ending the fight.

***

Dagobert groaned as he woke up. His head hurt horribly and he found it difficult to blink. The last thing he remembered was…was… He didn’t know.

A thin doctor with thick black glasses and a long nose stepped up to his medical cot. The man wore a white gown and held a slate. The doctor read the slate before regarding Dagobert.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked in his reedy voice.

“My head hurts.”

“It’s wrapped with bandages.”

Dagobert tentatively tried to feel his head, hearing clinking sounds. His wrists were shackled to an iron rail that circled the cot.

“It’s for your own protection,” the doctor said.

“Uh…why?”

The doctor’s gaze slid away as if he was too embarrassed to explain.

“Did I do something wrong?” Dagobert asked.

“You were found in the corridors, with your skull fractured and in severe trauma. This is the third day since your surgery.”

“What does that mean?”

“Two things,” the doctor said. “You obviously have enemies. Just as obviously, the Methuselah Woman—the Queen wishes you to not only survive…”

“Yeah?” asked Dagobert.

The doctor gave him a fast look before becoming absorbed with whatever was written on the slate. “Your brain had taken heavy trauma with pieces of shattered skull embedded in it—you have a fantastic constitution. By that I mean you can take a beating that would have killed others and still function. I don’t know why you’re not a vegetable or why you took so well to the healing therapy.”

Dagobert scowled as his eyelids lowered. There was a pounding pain in his skull. It started at the front, zoomed to the back and rebounded to the frontal lobe again. He didn’t know it, but his scowling features froze.

The doctor took off his glasses and leaned over Dagobert. “Can you hear me?”

Dagobert did, but he was unable to answer. The lightning-like agony zigzagged back and forth across his brain. The process speeded up, and his frozen face seemed to ice into permanent stiffness.

Help me! Dagobert screamed silently in his mind.

The doctor must not have heard. He kept peering at his face, and the doctor had awful breath.

“Oh my,” the doctor said. “This is bad.”

He straightened, turned and spoke rapidly to someone Dagobert could not see. He did hear and understand the word, “Emergency.” Was the doctor talking about him?

Dagobert wasn’t aware of the passage of time. It seemed like forever, but maybe it had only been a moment ago. The doctor with the onion breath peered over him again. The doctor spoke, and his words were slow and heavy. The doc’s face went away, and an angel peered over him. She was so stunningly beautiful—

The Queen is looking at me, Dagobert realized. That brought life into his mind and seemed to lessen the pain zigzagging back and forth through his brain.

The Queen pulled back and turned to the waiting doctor. “Will he die otherwise?” she asked.

“I can’t say with surety—”

“But doctor,” she said, interrupting him, “surety is what I demand. I will hold you to whatever you say next. And if you don’t have an opinion, I have no further use for you. Do you understand what that means?”

“You’d turn me into a Merovingian?” he said softly.

“Oh, so we do understand each other. Which state of being do you prefer, hmm?”

The doctor tugged at his white lab coat collar as if he were hot. He removed his thick black glasses and wiped his sweaty forehead with a sleeve. “The experimental drug cerepentothal could help repair the brain damage. It could have unforeseen side effects, however.”

“Such as?” she asked.

“Heightened aggression and possibly speeded neural reactions,” the doctor said.

“Neural. You mean he could think faster?”

“In a manner of speaking, Highness. It’s possible the faster neuron firings would heighten his IQ.”

“Cerepentothal is an intelligence enhancer?” she asked.

The doctor took off his glasses and sleeve-wiped his forehead for a second time, putting his glasses back on. “Your Majesty, this is a highly experimental drug.”

“Give him a double dose,” she said.

The doctor glanced at the frozen Dagobert before regarding her again.

“He’s a brute,” she said. “He has massive strength. I’ve been looking for a champion, one that can easily defeat New Men. Dagobert lacks brains. He is a physical specimen otherwise. Besides, those who beat him need a dire lesson.”

“I don’t understand, Majesty.”

“What part?”

“T-The dire l-lesson,” the doctor stammered.

“I do, however. Give Dagobert a double dosage and then shock him into life.”

“But the previous damage to his brain—”

The Queen raised a hand, silencing the doctor. Then she glanced at Dagobert. “It’s a long shot, I grant you. But I have so much to do, and I need someone impressive, mentally and physically, to take care of a situation for me. If Dagobert works out, if you can mutate him into a true super-soldier general…then you will gain in rank and status, my dear doctor. Isn’t that a worthy goal?”

“You honor me more than I d-deserve, Highness.”

“Nonsense,” the Queen said. “I honor and dishonor exactly and correctly how I wish. It is one of my defining characteristics. That’s the end of the matter, sir. Can you do it? Tell me: yes or no?”

The doctor hesitated.

“I see,” she said. “Well, my Merovingian Corps needs more warriors. I’m certain you will turn into a fine—”

“It can be done, O Queen,” the doctor said quickly and with sudden ringing authority.

“Truly?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Ah…I need four days at the minimum.”

“You have three.”

“Highness,” he said, “I cannot alter the laws of physics. Four days at the minimum is all I can guarantee.”

“The Merovingians need more warriors and you will—”

“Four days, Majesty,” he said. “I can do no better.”

A sly smile appeared on her wondrous features. “I grant you four days, Doctor. You had better be right.”

“I will be,” he said.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

“I know.”

She eyed him.

For once, he did not look away, but held her gaze.

She nodded and touched his right forearm. “I need a champion. Create him for me.”

“I will.”

She turned to go, perhaps thought better, and faced the doctor once more. “Tell me. Will the process be painful for him?”

The doctor glanced at the frozen Dagobert. “He will scream and beg for it to stop. He might chew off his tongue. But if he’s tough enough, he could survive.”

“That bad, really?” she asked.

“Yes,” the doctor said.

“Oh well,” she said. “One can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.” She leaned down and touched one of Dagobert’s frozen arms. “You’re going to go through hell for me, Champion. If you succeed, you may be able to enact vengeance against those who beat you like this. Would you enjoy that?”

Dagobert strained, and he made the tiniest of grunts.

The Queen straightened, smiling in triumph, turning to the doctor. “I await your success, Physician. Remember, though, what I do to those who lie to me when making promises.”

The doctor swallowed painfully.

On that note, the Queen departed.

The doctor seemed to collapse inward, but he didn’t fall to the floor. Instead, he stared down at Dagobert. “You unlucky oaf, don’t you let me down.” Then, the doctor turned and hurried away.

All the while, Dagobert lay frozen, wondering if it was really going to be as bad as all that.

-25-

Dagobert screamed in horror, in agony, and it repeated in his dreams with ghastly nightmares. The cycles lasted too long, exhausting him mentally, physically and spiritually. His identity plunged deep into his psyche, quivering in terror, debating giving up existence. In the end, a stubborn core refused to let go of life. One part of the core remembered the back-shooting sergeant of Star Watch. Dagobert could no longer remember the bastard’s name. Another piece of the core was the look on Tobias’s face when they had fought last. It had been a mixture of fear and hate. Dagobert thought he remembered looking up as he crouched on his hands and knees on the deck. He remembered a baton swinging down and cracking his skull.

Revenge, the Queen had spoken about revenge. The concept was too advanced for the core of Dagobert. He simply would not let the others win because he quit trying.

That was the beginning of the healing. How long it subjectively lasted was anyone’s guess. In real time, it took three days as Dagobert lay on a cot with hundreds of leads attached to his body and shaven scalp. A team of technicians watched him closely, at times stimulating his body and brain with electric shocks. His massive frame surged upward at those times. At others, he groaned like some God-judged and sentenced soul burning in the eternal flames of Hell. It was torment of the worst sort, but Dagobert endured, he held on.

At the end of the three days, Dagobert opened his eyes as consciousness hazily returned. He was aware of a murmuring crowd. They spoke too low for him to hear, but he felt their undercurrent of excitement. At last, a thin doctor in a white lab coat and wearing thick black glasses approached him. The man was frightened but peered down at him with hope.

“Dagobert Dan?” the doctor asked softly.

“Yes?” Dagobert answered.

The doctor stepped closer as perspiration glistened on his broad forehead. The man glanced at his slate, and his features changed to one of wonder.

“What does your med-slate show you?” asked Dagobert.

The doctor swallowed audibly before answering. “The rate of your neuronal firing has increased.”

“Meaning what?” asked Dagobert.

“Well…I should think several things,” the doctor said. “You’ll move faster, react faster, you might even think faster.”

Dagobert stared down at his naked body. He was huge, muscular and— “You shaved the hair from my body.”

“To attach the leads,” the doctor said.

Dagobert glanced at his hands. They were shackled to the bed-rail. He raised his head and looked down at his feet. Someone had shackled his ankles too. He rested his head on the pillow, thinking. He glanced at the doctor watching him.

“You’re afraid of me,” Dag said, as at that moment he mentally changed his name from Dagobert Dan to simply Dag, as he realized he was no longer that dumb brute of yesterday.

“I’d rather think of it as being cautious,” the doctor said.

“What?”

“We’re cautiously optimistic the cerepentothal therapy was successful.”

Dag did not reply right away as he considered the doctor’s words. “Cerepentothal is a drug?”

“Yes.”

“I remember something—neurons, my neurons fire faster.”

“That’s right,” the doctor said.

“I’m hungry,” Dag said as his stomach growled. “When do I eat?”

“We’re going to run a few tests first.”

“Better hurry then, doc. If you wait too long, I’m going to shit my bed and force you to cease testing.”

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

The doctor’s mouth opened. He closed it and tapped upon his slate. “This is a breakthrough. The Queen will—” The doctor whirled around, shouting with excitement at the technicians. He ran to them, shouting instructions.

Dag waited, becoming aware that he no longer spoke as he used to. He watched the proceedings, assessing and biding his time—for what, he didn’t yet know. Something was different. He needed to put his finger on it before, well, before whatever decision he made next.

***

Later, Dag drank water and ate beef slices and raw carrots. He donned comfortable garments and running shoes and went to an exercise chamber. He skipped rope, making it blur, punched a heavy bag and climbed a large wall with evenly spaced small holes, using two pegs. It was good to be doing something physical again.

At the end, he showered, donned fresh clothes and was escorted by a five-man Merovingian team down the corridors to a room. Inside the room were books and a holo-vid stand. After he entered the room, the team left.

Dag turned on the vid, finding the selection limited. It showed sitcoms, rather banal ones at that. He grew bored of the shows and went to the books. He paged through several, finally settling on one about a huge friendly dog named Buck. The dog traveled from a place called California to Alaska as he changed throughout the journey. The scene where the man in the Red sweater and club beat Buck caused Dag to grow uncomfortable. He found the tale absorbing, though, turning page after page.

He stopped reading as a hatch opened. The Queen entered the room alone.

Dag jumped to his feet, standing at attention. The Queen wore a tight-fitting black garment of synthetic leather. She had a stunning figure, gorgeous features and long dark hair. She had high-heeled boots and wore a white fur cape.

“Dagobert Dan,” she said in a liquid voice.

He dipped his head. “If it pleases the Queen, I wish you would refer to me as Dag.”

“Oh?”

“It is part of Dagobert, but seems more appropriate.”

“You feel different then?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Can you explain in what way?”

Dag glanced at the book. He held it one-handed, with his index finger in the spot where he’d been reading. He frowned before looking up at the Queen. “I don’t think I’ve ever read a novel before.”

“Could you read before?”

He frowned more deeply. “A few words,” he said. A cold feeling worked through him. He shivered, and the book dropped from his hand. The sound startled him back to the moment.

“The cerepentothal did this to me?” he asked.

“It was part of the therapy,” the Queen replied.

He cocked his head. “What were the other parts?”

“Do you feel it is correct to interrogate your Queen?”

“No…I suppose not.”

She waited.

“I ask for you to forgive my lapse of protocol—if you desire, O Queen.”

“Amazing,” she said. “I wouldn’t have thought it would work so fast and thoroughly. But it has. You even speak differently.”

Dag said nothing, although he had a hundred questions.

“You’re smarter, much smarter than you used to be,” she said.

He began to nod.

“The doctor said you would be physically quicker and possibly more aggressive,” she said. “I do not detect greater aggression, however. Perhaps your rise in intelligence has gentled your approach to life.”

“Begging your pardon, O Queen, I don’t think that’s it.”

She stared at him. “What then?”

“I have undergone a terrible ordeal. I remember some of it. The ordeal has taught me caution.”

“Because you fear to resume the ordeal?” she asked quietly.

An impulse struck Dag, a thought. She was testing him, and she wanted a means to control him. If he admitted to the fear, she might use the ordeal over him to control his future actions. Yet, he dreaded undergoing anything similar. If he killed her, though—no, she must have a means to defend herself even in here alone with him. He didn’t think she was arrogant due to overconfidence, not in this room, in any case.

“I dislike the ordeal,” he said in an even voice. “But I don’t fear it.”

“You’re more cunning than you used to be, Dagobert. But don’t think that you’re smarter or more guileful than I am. In that sense, you are still as Dagobert compared to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I am the subject, and you are the Queen. You give the orders, and I obey them. While I might feign subservience, you will know if I mean it or not and will act accordingly.”

She stared at him coldly.

With an inward start, Dag realized that he understood her worry. Had she made him too smart? That meant he had to reassure her. The question was, how? He didn’t know. Maybe he was talking too much and had revealed too much about himself. While he sounded smarter than his earlier self, there was still much he did not understand. I should wait, and I shouldn’t try to show off any cleverness, not until I know more.

He crouched, picking the book off the floor, holding it with both hands as he straightened.

“I’ve seen enough for the moment,” she said. “Read your book. Relax. I have a surprise for you…in a few hours, say.”

“May I ask what kind of surprise?”

She smiled as a leopard might while watching young baboons frolicking alone. “I know far more about these matters than anyone suspects. I used an old method…an unpleasant but functional method. Part of the process, as you put it, was to stun your brain, your dull Dagobert brain. That came from a terrible beating, a clubbing from Merovingians that hate you, as you slew their friends and threatened to supplant the other.”

Dag frowned as an odd feeling began to build in his heart. He wasn’t aware of it, but he was twisting the hardcover book in his hands.

Suppressing a laugh, the Queen turned, heading for the hatch, which opened, showing a team of Merovingians waiting outside. Among them was Tobias.

Dag growled low in his throat, and he had an impulse to hurl the book at his former tormenter. He checked the impulse, but his hands tightened, twisting the book and breaking the spine. He turned away lest the impulse overpower him.

I must think, he told himself. I must carefully think this through, before she uses me the way the others once controlled Dagobert.

-26-

The appointed surprise came after Dag finished reading the story about Buck the dog turned wild. The freedom of the wolves had called to Buck, and he had left civilization to not only join but to lead the wild lupus canines.

Is that me? Is that what I’m going to do?

Dag had thought long and hard about Tobias, about the others who had beaten him senseless. Yet, was that entirely true? According to the Queen, they had helped to beat him into greater intelligence and possibly into a greater warrior.

I fought hard in the past because I went berserk. I was single-minded because I could only hold one thought at a time. Now, I can hold multiple thoughts. The berserk single-mindedness might be beyond me now.

Was it possible to fight with cold berserk fury and still use his cunning? That was a contradiction in terms. But if he could master such a thing—I would be unstoppable.

The reading-room hatch opened, and a team of armored Merovingians waited outside. Their leader requested his presence.

Dag went through the hatch and walked in their midst as they escorted him down the corridors. He had many questions. He did not ask them, however. He noted their unease, how their hands stayed near their belted batons. They feared him, and he wasn’t sure why. Since he did not desire another brain bashing, he walked as meekly as possible.

Finally, they brought him to another hatch. It opened. Dag looked at them. The squad leader used his baton to point into the chamber.

Without thinking about it, Dag snatched the end of the baton and yanked it out of the other’s hand. The other stared at him with shock and then shifted forward onto his armored toes.

“Don’t,” Dag said, his menacing tone conveying more than the single word.

The squad leader’s armored fists dropped to his sides as the Merovingian stepped back, crowding two of the others behind him.

Dag eyed them, believing them sufficiently cowed before he turned his back on them. He held the baton along his right leg as he entered the chamber.

It was huge. Yes. It was a hangar bay with portable stands enough for hundreds of observers. Hundreds sat on the stands waiting, including fifty Merovingians in their own section. They were notable by their size and arrogant demeanors. The Queen sat in a special box, with her commanders, renegade Star Watch officers and an elite Merovingian guard behind the seated group.

“Dagobert Dan,” said a man with a loudspeaker. He stood in her box near the Queen. “Approach her Majesty,” he said.

Dag did as ordered, walking in silence between the stands of seated spectators. He realized in a moment that he was not walking as he would have in the past. Then, he would have hunched his shoulders, glancing around in fear of making a mistake.

Fake them out, Dag thought. Don’t let them know yet that you’re…better than before. Suiting thought to action, he lowered his shoulders and began peering about in a nervous way. Yes. This would likely help him in a few minutes. He needed to act like Dagobert, not Dag, until the right moment for him to reveal his new self.

Shuffling, hunching, Dag reached the front of the box, not daring to look at the Queen sitting up there.

“Dagobert Dan,” said the man with the loudspeaker. “Look up to address your Queen.”

Dag raised his head slowly as if frightened and unsure. His gaze met the Queen’s. His darted away quickly as he would have done in the past.

“Dagobert?” she said, sounding disappointed.

He nodded without looking at her a second time.

“Look at me, Fighter.”

Timidly, he did so, his gaze sliding away only to stare into her eyes once again.

She was frowning. Then, she seemed to have an insight, as she sat back and touched her mouth. Finally, she spoke quietly to the man with the loudspeaker.

He aimed it at the spectators. “Today,” the man said. “We have a challenge for the leadership of the Merovingians. Tobias the Champion has agreed to kill the interloper Dagobert Dan. On the other hand, the interloper below desires to lead the Merovingians. He has claimed the right and suggested he has the ability to defeat the Champion.

A number of boos sounded from the stands.

Dag twitched and looked about.

A few others in the stands laughed at his stupid ways.

At that point, Tobias the Champion appeared from the same hatch Dag had entered a few minutes ago. He wore Merovingian armor and held a white lance. It lacked an opening for fiery liquid, but it did have a gleaming steel tip. Tobias proudly sauntered toward the Queen’s box.

“What do you hold in your hand, Dagobert?” the Queen asked.

Dag whirled around again to peer up at her.

She winked subtly at him.

She knows I’m faking being stupid. Maybe she really is as intelligent as she thinks she is. I must proceed carefully indeed.

He held up the baton.

“Oh, no, Dagobert,” she said. “You don’t need that for this fight. Throw it away. If you need it, you’re not the Merovingian I think you are.”

He debated disobeying her, but immediately realized the futility of that. He was supposed to move quicker than normal—quicker than a normal Merovingian: a contradiction in terms, as no Merovingian was normal.

Dag flung the baton from him, and it clattered across the hangar-bay deck. Then, with hunched shoulders, not looking directly at Tobias, he shuffled toward the approaching champion.

Tobias halted, and he raised his lance one-handed. “I fight for the Queen.”

Dag halted.

“Who do you fight for, fool?” Tobias shouted at him.

Dag straightened from his hunched position and raised his long, muscular arms into the air. He raised his head and stared at Tobias with his Greek-style helmet with the Y opening for his mouth and eyes. Dag kept that pose, waiting, deciding to unnerve the champion.

“I asked you a question,” Tobias said.

Dag lowered his arms and began to march purposefully at Tobias. As he did, rage ignited in his breast. He remembered how Tobias had clubbed and clubbed him. He recalled the nightmares and hellish torments. Dag did not realize it, but he ground his teeth, a wretched noise.

“Come kiss death,” Tobias shouted, and he began to stalk his prey, with the steel lance aimed at Dag.

Dag closed and opened his hands as a tingling sensation raced through his massive body. His features twisted as he felt the berserkergang threaten to overwhelm his senses.

“Tobias!” he screamed, breaking into a sprint.

The champion halted, setting himself. Dag rushed at him, bellowing at the top of his lungs and gashing his teeth as spittle flew from his mouth.

Did Tobias’s heart race with fear? His wide eyes showed that he was worried. Faith in his armor and spear likely fortified him.

Dag rushed the other like a madman.

Tobias waited, and then he thrust the lance—

Dag understood his enemy’s plan the moment Tobias put more weight onto his toes. Dag saw, and his speeded neural reactions allowed him to slide feet-first as he threw his torso and head back like a runner sliding into second base. Dag slid under the lance thrust, and his sliding feet smashed against Tobias’s armored ankles. There came a crack, a snap of bones, and Dag knocked Tobias off balance and then violently to the deck. The lance went flying as Tobias released it.

Both men sprang up. Tobias shrieked in pain, one of his ankles shattered and unable to hold up his weight. He crumbled to the deck and he slid around, rising to his knees to face a quietly waiting Dag.

Tobias sweated and panted. “Well…” he said.

Dag moved closer and then lashed out with his right foot, connecting with Tobias’s helmeted face, knocking him onto his back.

Tobias shouted in fear and climbed back up to his knees, blood seeping from his nose and staining the front of his armored chest.

As he did, Dag walked to the fallen lance, picking it up. He did not look to the Queen, although he was sure she would have liked that. Instead, he sauntered back to Tobias, and offered the weapon to him butt first.

Tobias snatched it, shuffling away on his knees, keeping the lance point aimed at Dag.

Dag folded his arms, staring at the champion. “Do you remember beating me?” he asked in a mild voice.

Tobias did not answer as fear showed in his eyes.

“I asked you a question, fool,” Dag said.

“What did you do to him?” Tobias screamed at the Queen. “He’s not the same.”

Dag glanced back over his shoulder.

The Queen whispered to the man with the loudspeaker.

“Kill him if you can,” said the man with the loudspeaker.

Dag looked back at Tobias and shrugged, walking toward him.

“No!” Tobias shouted. “Keep back. I’ll skewer you like a pig if you get too close.”

Dag continued his pace.

Tobias gripped the lance and thrust.

Dag stepped aside as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He grabbed the lance with one hand, doing so just behind the steel blade. With a sudden wrench, he yanked the lance out of Tobias’s hands.

“No!” Tobias howled.

“Hey,” Dag said.

A hunch-shouldered Tobias stared at him.

Dag reversed his hold and gripped the lance like a javelin. “Are you ready to die?” he asked.

Tobias shuddered.

Dag hesitated; he wasn’t sure why, but something nibbled at the back of his brain. He stepped back and looked at the crowd before focusing on the seated Merovingians. They watched intensely… Dag’s mind went into overdrive: The Queen wanted warriors, super-soldiers to do her bidding. She had plans, big plans, no doubt. She’d allowed Tobias to remain as the champion even though he’d failed to capture Captain Maddox. Others had done it after Tobias failed. The Queen had used Tobias to help create—

“Me,” Dag whispered under his breath.

Yes. The Queen wanted him to become the new champion. She had a task for him… If he slew Tobias too easily, the Merovingians would certainly fear him but would they follow him with joy, with love and real respect? That seemed unlikely. He wanted to bind the Merovingians to him. The question was, how could his actions here help him do that? Warriors loved honor, and warriors loved an inspiring leader. How could he inspire the Merovingians through this fight? How could he begin to weld them to him instead of to the Queen?

Then, it became clear to him.

Dag raised the lance, speaking loudly, “I could skewer you, Tobias, as I have defeated you. Or do you think that you can still kill me?”

“I’m the Champion!” Tobias screamed.

“Oh, really?” Dag tossed the lance to the side. He knew how to do this. Tobias might always hate him no matter what, but he could deal with that. Yes. It was time to show mercy…and to make Tobias fear with great trembling.

Dag walked toward the kneeling champion.

“No!” Tobias howled, swinging his fists as Dag neared.

Dag slapped the armored fists away every time Tobias tried to connect. It took some doing, but soon enough, Tobias panted, exhausted, his wearied arms hanging at his sides. At that point, Dag reached out and yanked the helmet from Tobias’s head. Dag donned the helmet—the damp inner pads stank of sweat—and stepped behind Tobias, gripping the man’s sweat-drenched head.

“I’ll grant you mercy, Tobias,” Dag shouted to the stands. “I will let you follow me as the new champion, if you declare yourself defeated. Speak, if you wish to live.”

Tobias was shaking.

Dag applied pressure, squeezing the man’s head and turning it to the left ever so slowly. There was resistance because of the man’s neck muscles and bones, but it would not prove enough of a protection.

“No!” Tobias howled, clutching at Dag’s hands, trying to wrestle them away. Unfortunately for Tobias, he was too exhausted and Dag too damn powerful.

“This is your final chance,” Dag shouted.

There was a fractional pause, then: “Dagobert Dan is the Champion!” Tobias screamed. “He’s the best! He’s the victor!”

Dag released Tobias’s head and stepped back. Tobias shuffled around on his knees and stared up at him in misery. Dag held out a hand. Tobias stared at him in wonder.

“If you take my hand, you can live as a Merovingian warrior in my corps,” Dag said.

Tobias stared at him longer and with a shaking hand reached out.

Dag gripped the hand and pulled Tobias up onto his good leg. Then, he faced the Queen’s box and raised his right arm.

She stood as she studied him closely before turning to the man with the loudspeaker.

The man said, “The Queen is changing your name from Dagobert Dan to Dag the Champion. You are the new leader of the Merovingians. You are the greatest of her warriors. Let all rejoice at your victory.”

The stands erupted into cheers and wild clapping.

Dag nodded, turning to face the spectators. He had defeated Tobias. He was the new champion. He wondered why it didn’t taste more glorious.

It’s a step, he realized. A step to what, he did not know. But it was a step toward a future greatness he could not yet foresee. One thing was clear: any misstep would end in his death.

He smiled for the first time and felt elation. He was on a path to greatness and would certainly face many challenges along the way. What did the Queen hold in store for him next? She would try to use him for her advantage, but he had to make sure he used her for his.

This is exciting. I can hardly wait for the next move.

-27-

Since leaving orbit around Tortuga, Starship Victory had been using a combination of Laumer Point travel and star-drive jumps as it headed toward the 82 G. Eridani System. During that time, Maddox had spoken to Professor Ludendorff about Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers, the Merovingians, transfer gates and the unfathomable assault upon Olmstead. The professor had listened more than commented, which wasn’t his usual approach to such matters.

Maddox had been wondering about that and asked Meta for any insights one evening as the two of them prepared for sleep after making athletic love.

There was a nightlight in the chamber facing Meta’s side of the king-sized bed. It provided enough illumination as Maddox did his stretches. He reached for the ceiling and then bent forward and put his palms on the floor. It was the beginning of a variety of stretches that helped to keep him limber.

Meta had the covers pulled up to her chin as she watched her husband. She was beautiful, with lovely long blonde hair. The rest of her wasn’t visible, but she was a curvaceous, well-endowed woman with the strength to match, as she had grown up on a 2-G planet. Like the captain, she had been physically enhanced from conception.

At last, Maddox completed his routine and climbed into bed. He leaned over and kissed his wife, reaching under the covers to touch her wonderful left hip. Then he leaned back, resting his head on his pillow.

“He’s been too quiet,” Maddox said.

“Usually you complain that Ludendorff talks too much,” Meta said with her eyes closed.

The captain grunted. “He has a thing for Lisa Meyers, I think.”

“Oh?”

“The Methuselah Woman impresses him. How many people have impressed Ludendorff before?”

“According to him, none,” Meta said.

“Could Ludendorff be holding back on us?”

“Because he has a thing for Lisa Meyers?” asked Meta.

Maddox glanced at his wife. “He hasn’t set out for Brahma.”

Brahma was the Indian/Hindu colonized planet where Ludendorff had first met Dana Rich, who had once been part of Victory’s crew and the professor’s woman.

“Maybe he no longer feels worthy of Dana,” Meta said.

“Are we talking about the same professor?”

Meta opened her eyes, looking at him. “Ludendorff was the hero last voyage, as he helped slay the great enemy.”

“The Prime Saa,” Maddox muttered.

“It was good of you to let him be the hero along with you.”

“He was making such a stink about it,” Maddox said. “Do you think the kill has moved a lever in his personality?”

“Maybe being the hero for once might have changed his perspective of things,” Meta said.

Maddox shook his head. “I doubt it. He’s a Methuselah Man. He’s lived…a long time. Ludendorff is Ludendorff. Set in stone, you might say.”

“He’s hasn’t pulled any fast ones against us lately.”

Maddox studied Meta’s features. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled, increasing her radiance.

Impulsively, Maddox leaned over and kissed her.

“What was that for?”

“Because I can,” he said.

“What’s really on your mind?”

“I’ve already said: Ludendorff’s inaction.”

“Okay. You should grill him tomorrow.”

“So, you think he’s hiding something?”

“Not necessarily,” Meta said. “But if you start grilling him, that should stir him out of any funk, as your grilling will get him angry. At that point, he’s likely to reveal something for you to latch onto.”

As Maddox thought about that, his eyes closed, his breathing evened and he fell asleep.

***

The next day, Maddox asked Galyan where Ludendorff was hiding himself.

“Sir?” asked Galyan.

The two of them were in a corridor as Maddox walked with a gym bag in hand. He was carrying his sweaty workout clothes to his quarters, having finished his morning lift.

“The question was straightforward,” Maddox said.

“I was unaware that the professor was in hiding,” Galyan said. “Is he afraid of something?”

Maddox rolled his eyes. “I thought you said once that you’d created a euphemism file.”

“I did.”

“Access it.”

“Oh…I see,” Galyan said. “You are asking where the professor is. You are not actually suggesting he has been hiding from you.”

“Correct.”

“In that case…Professor Ludendorff is in his science lab.”

Maddox glanced at the holoimage floating beside him. “Has he been working on a project?”

“I am unsure, as he has sealed the quarters from me. And before you ask how I know he is there: I am assuming he is in his lab because I cannot find him anywhere else on the ship.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me about the new provision?”

“I didn’t. That is odd, is it not?”

“It is,” Maddox said. “It’s so odd that I now suspect the professor has tampered with your curiosity circuits.”

“I will run a self-diagnostic.” Galyan’s eyelids fluttered…until he looked sharply at the captain. “There has been slight tampering. Like you, I now suspect the professor’s hand.”

“Great,” Maddox said, increasing his pace.

“Should I summon marines?”

“Negative,” Maddox said. “I’ll handle this myself.”

***

After stashing the sweaty clothes in his quarters, arming himself with several weapons, the captain hurried to the professor’s science laboratory, home to the creation of many miraculous tech items.

He reached the hatch and knocked, waiting as several seconds passed. He knocked again. Maddox was just about ready to summon Galyan, when the hatch clicked and opened and Professor Ludendorff poked his head through.

The professor had thick white hair, tanned handsome features and wore a blue shirt and pants. The top three buttons of the shirt were open. He wore a gold chain and showed a patch of white chest hair.

“Oh, it’s you,” Ludendorff said. “What’s the problem?”

“Do you mind if I come in?”

“In fact, yes, as I’m quite busy.”

“That sounds interesting.”

Ludendorff sighed. “It’s going to be like that, eh?”

Maddox folded his arms, waiting, deciding that would be better than shoving the Methuselah Man out of the way and barging in.

“Oh, very well, as I see your paranoia has once more gone into overdrive.” Ludendorff stepped back from the hatch.

Maddox followed him in, faltering a moment, rubbing his forehead. It felt as if…no, there was nothing. He blinked and focused, seeing many parts and pieces upon the blacktopped tables spread throughout the lab. There were also tools and parts on long benches beside the tables.

“Are you satisfied?” Ludendorff asked.

“What—what are you building?”

“Nothing nefarious, I assure you.”

Maddox rubbed his head once more before smiling. “Professor, have you ever wondered why your assurances lack the power to set others at ease?”

The professor muttered under his breath, heading toward a middle table that held many small pieces and parts. There was an array of tiny tools nearby, along with a big magnifying glass attached to a portable arm.

“You’re clearly making something,” Maddox said, who followed the Methuselah Man.

Ludendorff clapped his leathery hands in mock approval. “Bravo, sir. What was your first clue?”

Looking around, spotting a stool, Maddox went to it and brought it near, setting it down and sitting on it. “Why have you sealed your lab from Galyan?”

Ludendorff made an airy gesture.

“More to the point, why have you tampered with his curiosity circuits?” Maddox asked.

Ludendorff raised his bushy eyebrows. “Did I do that?”

Maddox waited, recognizing the signs, realizing this could be bad.

Ludendorff sighed, sat at on a bench, looked up at Maddox and jumped to his feet. He, too, walked to a long-legged stool, brought it near and sat on it, gazing at the captain on a more even level. “I’ve been reading your reports,” the professor said. “I’ve also spoken with Galyan on different occasions. I mean since your return from the pirate base on Tortuga. You joined captivity with your Uncle Ural, eh?”

Maddox nodded. Was the professor avoiding the issue?

“It must have been exhilarating challenging Lisa Meyers on her home ground,” Ludendorff said.

“Tortuga is beholden to her, it’s her base?”

“No, no. That’s not what I meant. She prepared a trap for you, eh?”

“I see,” Maddox said, wondering if his thinking was sluggish. “You didn’t just read my reports; you’ve also been eavesdropping on my talks, including on the Long-Range Builder Communicator with the Lord High Admiral. You’d better be able to justify those actions.”

“Please,” Ludendorff said. “I’m a Methuselah Man. Curiosity is my middle name. Keeping me out of things only whets my inquisitiveness. You should know that by now.”

“I do know that… I also notice you haven’t answered my questions.”

Ludendorff frowned, glancing slightly to his left.

Maddox followed the gaze and saw a small square object the size of a thick paperback novel. It had a tiny light on top that glowed green. Maddox jumped up, moving to the device, debating. He felt weight in his mind, resistance to his thinking, and he felt it more the closer he was to this thing. There were several tiny antennae sprouting from the device. Could the thing be tampering with his curiosity? If so—Ludendorff has gone too far. He needs a lesson, a harsh one. Maddox scooped up the device—it was surprisingly heavy—and raised it over his head.

“What are you doing?” Ludendorff asked in alarm.

“I’m going to dash it to pieces.”

“No!” Ludendorff shouted. “Don’t, please! It’s priceless!”

Maddox flung his arms down—and at the last moment reconsidered, keeping a tight hold of the device, stopping it from smashing against the floor.

Ludendorff gulped, blinked and finally shook his head. “All right, all right, I’ll turn it off. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Heat washed through Maddox. “It’s actually affecting me?”

“Apparently not enough,” Ludendorff muttered. “And that’s likely due to the Erill spiritual energy you’ve absorbed. I should have taken that into account.”

Maddox eyed the device. Had the professor known he was coming? He didn’t think so. Why had it been on, then? The devious old man was still playing his dubious games. Maybe that was why the professor had delayed opening the door—he’d turned the thing on to test or use it to remain in the shadows, as it were. Yes. That was the likeliest explanation.

“Here,” Maddox said, pitching the device to Ludendorff, no doubt catching the old man by surprise. The thing struck the professor’s chest, knocking him off balance as he stood. He grunted, fumbled for it, juggled it a moment and crashed against the stool, reaching back with a hand to keep his balance. The device dropped to the floor, striking with a thud.

“Damnation, man,” Ludendorff shouted, picking it up, turning it over several times to exam it. Finally, he pressed a number of buttons in sequence. The tiny light went from green, to red, to off. Gingerly, he set the thing on a table and whirled upon the captain. “You could have broken it.”

Maddox was staring at the Methuselah Man, as Ludendorff seemed to come into sharper focus. Maddox realized his mind had returned to normal. The device had affected his thinking.

“I should break you for using that thing on me.”

Ludendorff looked away, soon rubbing his jaw, regarding the captain once more. “You’re right. That was a mistake. Will you accept my apology?”

Maddox’s eyes narrowed, but just for a moment. “Certainly,” he said, but wondering, what’s he up to this time?

“My only excuse is a childlike one,” Ludendorff said, “wanting to test his newest creation. The device took me weeks to envision and a month to construct. It has only been operational a few days.”

“I see. What is it exactly?”

Ludendorff was rubbing his jaw again. “I’m a scientist first; the best there is, as you know. It’s in my nature to ponder problems and to develop antidotes. In this instance, I’ve wondered if it was possible to diminish curiosity.” He pointed at the inert device. “I call it an Apathy Box. It emits rays, dulling curiosity through a peculiar process I won’t go into because I don’t care to bore you. And yes, I’ve built a different one and tried it out on Galyan, a computer entity. That one works better than this one, as there are still bugs in this Apathy Box. The human brain is much more complex than—”

“Professor,” Maddox said, interrupting.

“Eh?”

“What’s really going on? Why did you create such a thing?”

They locked gazes. After a moment, the professor blushed and made a sweeping gesture. “I’m worried, my boy, deeply worried. We’re dealing with Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. That means trouble for all of us. She will have methods to attack us that will boggle the mind.”

“Are you referring to the planet Olmstead?”

“No, but I know all about Olmstead.” Ludendorff eyed the captain. “Clearly, projected asteroids flew at high speeds, smashing the planet into smithereens. That smacks of high technology, does it not?”

Maddox nodded. It did indeed.

“We’re dealing with a planet killer,” Ludendorff said. “This one is more deadly than a Destroyer of the Nameless Ones, as we could fight a Destroyer. How do you defend against an invisible foe that can hurl asteroids at populated planets?”

“It’s the perfect genocidal weapon,” Maddox said.

“Bah! You don’t understand at all. Certainly, it can kill billions at a blow, but by itself it does not represent an existential threat.”

“That’s backward, Professor. An invisible weapon that can hurl asteroids is exactly an existential threat. There’s no stopping it from going to one star system after another, annihilating planetary life each time.”

“My boy, you’re not an idiot,” Ludendorff said softly. “I’m surprised you don’t already see the real implications.”

“Which are?”

Ludendorff took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. “Isn’t it interesting that the man of action must always rely upon the man of science for answers? I believe it is the way of the universe. Still, it becomes tedious over time, and in my case, a long, long time. I am the brains, and you are the brawn—”

“Professor, let’s stick to the point. What are the real implications?”

“Lisa Meyers.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know,” Ludendorff said. “That’s my point.”

“Have you been using the Apathy Box on yourself?”

Ludendorff glared at the captain until a look of shock spread across his leathery features. He ran his fingers through his hair and plucked off two small round devices from over his ears. He examined each. “Damnation,” he said. “They shorted out.”

“They’re protection against the Apathy Box?”

“While they’re powered,” Ludendorff said, pocketing them. “They need improvement, clearly.”

Maddox turned away before turning back and indicating the pieces spread around the room. “You’re working on something to kill or diminish curiosity. Are you planning to beam the ray upon Lisa Meyers?”

“If I have the opportunity to do so, of course,” Ludendorff said.

“Why is that so important to you?”

“Eh, what’s that? Oh, Meyers, yes, yes, it’s important only if we can capture her. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hold a Methuselah Person prisoner if they don’t submit to it? I know, I know. You’re going to point out that the New Men are successfully holding Strand. But they’re a special case, as they’re superior as a group to any other group. As a group, they think and act logically. It will be different if ordinary humans hold Meyers, and I include the crew of Victory in the description. However, if we can dull her intellect, holding her will become much easier, simple, in fact.”

“Fine,” Maddox said, realizing Ludendorff was giving him half-truths. Perhaps it would be best for now to let him believe these answers were satisfying. “What you’re saying makes tortured sense. Still, I wish you’d asked permission first—not that I’m forgetting you used my crew as guinea pigs for your devices. I’m going to extract a price from you for that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How can you expect a genius like me to run to the dullards like you and your crew to ask permission to do a thing?”

Maddox eyed the professor. Did the Methuselah Man have a thing for Meyers as Meta had suggested? Maddox shook his head. That wasn’t the important point. Ludendorff was drifting into his old ways. He would bear more watching again. With that established—in the captain’s mind, at least—

“What do you know about this planet killer?” Maddox asked.

“Very little, I’m afraid. As we’ve surmised, it’s invisible and must take the asteroids and accelerate them to high speeds. How it does this, I have no idea.”

“Have you ever heard of something like this before?”

“Frankly, that’s what’s troubling me the most,” Ludendorff said. “I might have…but I can’t quite put my finger on it. You have no idea how difficult it is for a human brain to contain hundreds of years of memories and then pull one up upon need. There’s a tickle deep in my mind, but I can’t seem to dredge it up to my consciousness. Perhaps if we examine the planetary debris in person—”

“Good idea,” Maddox said, interrupting.

“We’re already heading there, aren’t we?”

“You already know we are,” Maddox said.  “Let me ask you this, since you’re concentrating upon her and I just faced some of her people. Do you believe Meyers had anything to do with the planet killer?”

“Given her bizarre beliefs—I’ve seen the portion of manifesto you transcribed from memory that Ural showed you—I would have to say that I can think of no one else more likely.”

“Yeah,” Maddox said. “We need to get to 82. G. Eridani pronto.”

“Agreed,” Ludendorff said. “Speed could be critical.”

“Right,” Maddox said as he slid off the stool. It was time to make the starship hum.

-28-

Victory hummed along the star lanes, using Laumer Points—wormhole openings and exits—that linked space in a web of faster-than-light paths. At other times, the ship used a star-drive jump to put it near another strategically placed Laumer Point and begin the process all over again. In such a way, the vessel traveled deeper into Human Space.

Maddox pushed, the crew suffered the ill effects and Victory neared the 82. G. Eridani System.

At one point, the captain used the Long-Range Builder Communicator, seeing if the Lord High Admiral had any more news on the invisible planet killer or on the afflicted system. Cook did not, nor had the Builder Scanner found anything extra in the 82. G. Eridani System.

Maddox considered calling the Emperor of the Throne World and seeing if he could convince Strand to tell them more about Meyers. In the end, he didn’t, as he believed his uncle in saying that Strand wasn’t going to help them against her.

Ludendorff’s tickle of a memory remained that: tantalizingly out of his conscious thought.

Finally, the ancient Adok starship reached the Kuiper Belt of the 82. G. Eridani System. The system was about 20 light-years from Earth and belonged to the constellation Eridanus. The main-sequence star had a stellar classification of G8. It was slightly smaller and less massive than the Sun, making it marginally dimmer than the Sun in terms of luminosity.

“There,” Valerie said as she studied her board. “I’m seeing the planetary debris of Olmstead.”

“And the missing asteroids?” asked Maddox from his chair.

“Already found them,” Andros said from his station. “That is to say, three major asteroids are no longer in the system’s main Asteroid Belt. They’re gone.”

“They’re part of the planetary debris that used to be Olmstead,” Valerie said.

Maddox considered that. “It’s surprising no one raised an alarm as the asteroids left the main belt and headed for the planet.”

Andros turned around. “Is that how it happened, sir?”

Maddox shrugged. “I don’t know how it happened.”

“I would think it couldn’t have happened that way,” Andros said. “My evidence for the belief is the very lack of an alarm. I mean, every astronomer in the system could have seen the asteroids veering from their regular path and heading toward Olmstead.”

“Point taken,” Maddox said, drumming his fingers on the armrests. “Here’s what we know. Patrol ships scoured the system and found nothing helpful as to how the asteroids did what they did. The Builder Scanner on Pluto has focused here as well, finding nothing to explain the situation. Now, it’s our turn to look. We have to find what they missed.”

“How do you know they missed anything?” Valerie asked.

“It’s my working assumption,” Maddox said crisply. “There must be clues as to how this happened. Galyan.”

“Here, sir,” the holoimage said.

“Start scanning the system,” Maddox said. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to find other than something everyone else missed. Do you think you’re up to it?”

“I do indeed, sir,” Galyan said.

“Then don’t quit until you find that something. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” the holoimage said, as his eyelids began to flutter.

Andros also scanned from his station. Presumably, Ludendorff did as well from his science lab.

The hours passed. Victory star-drive jumped deeper into the system. More hours passed. Finally, the starship jumped into the main Asteroid Belt.

Maddox had left the bridge twice during this time. On his third appearance and after the captain listened to the reports, Galyan’s eyelids finally ceased fluttering.

“Sir,” the holoimage said. “I believe I have found something.”

Maddox was sipping coffee. He set the cup into the armrest’s holder and swiveled his seat to regard the little Adok holoimage.

“It is a drifting escape pod with minimal life-support,” Galyan said. “I have detected a steady but slow heartbeat from within it suggesting some form of hibernation.”

“Where is it?” Maddox asked.

“Five million, two hundred and seventy-four thousand kilometers from our present location,” Galyan said. “It is in the Asteroid Belt, mimicking debris, probably the reason why no one else spotted it.”

“Give Keith the coordinates,” Maddox said. “Helm, get us there.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Keith said from Helm.

“Sir,” Andros said. “I’ve found the escape pod and have begun a preliminary linkage with its responder. It’s of Star Watch make, meaning the escape pod is from a Star Watch vessel.”

“A military vessel?” asked Maddox.

“Ah. The pod’s responder has fully activated,” Andros said, studying his panel. “The pod is from…from the Bombay. That’s an India-class Frigate, a Science Vessel.”

“It’s commanding officer?”

“Commander Kris Guderian.”

“Guderian,” Maddox said. “I know her. Galyan, wasn’t she the first person to see a Destroyer wipe out the populated planets in the New Arabia System?”

“That is correct,” Galyan said. “Do you think that is a coincidence?”

“Too early to tell,” Maddox said. “You said there’s a heartbeat, someone alive in the pod?”

“I did,” Galyan said.

“Keith, get ready to use the star-drive jump,” Maddox said. “I want this survivor aboard Victory as fast as possible.”

“The odds are high that the science vessel was investigating system anomalies before the planet’s destruction,” Galyan said.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Maddox said. “And that means there should be records about someone sending a science vessel to the system.”

“Don’t count on it,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox turned his chair to see the professor walk through the hatch onto the bridge.

“Remember Humanity Manifesto Doctrine,” the professor said. “We’ve been away. Brigadier Stokes is heading the Transition Team from Fletcher to Cook, checking all Star Watch personnel, weeding out—”

“Yes, yes,” Maddox said. “I’m aware of all that.”

“Did you know that Stokes woke Josef Becker, and plans to use the man’s knowledge to help Star Watch?” Ludendorff asked.

“What? No. I hadn’t heard that. I warned the Lord High Admiral to keep Becker in stasis. Did the Brigadier take mind shields along?”

“Of course,” Ludendorff said.

“They actually woke Becker,” Maddox said, shaking his head. “That was a mistake that could come back to bite us.”

“Maybe,” Ludendorff said. “The point I wanted to make is that you and I head the list of unwanted humans, according to HMD, at least. That means there’s likely been a lot of chicanery recently.”

“And that relates to the planet killer how?”

“That means chaos, maybe of a limited variety and maybe not,” the professor said. “In any case, that would be a good time to introduce a planet killer. Chaos could hinder regular communication, regular channels. I just think that’s good to remember.”

Maddox frowned. “True. And I should have already thought of that. Is this a residual effect of your Apathy Box?”

“Hmm,” Ludendorff said. “That’s an interesting idea. It’s possible, and that’s good.”

“Good! Why?” snapped Maddox.

“Why, because it means my machine worked better than I realized. You may be a di-far, but you’re still mortal.”

“Save your cheer, Professor, unless you want to go with me into the practice ring.”

Ludendorff’s grin disappeared as he muttered under his breath.

“Galyan,” Maddox said. “Take a look inside the escape pod. Report back with what you see.”

The holoimage disappeared. A moment later, he reappeared. “Sir, Commander Kris Guderian is in a semi-suspended state in her spacesuit. She has approximately another seventy-one hours of air. I suggest we move with haste in rescuing her.”

“Affirmative to that,” Maddox said. “Let’s revive her and see if she has any clue as to what happened here.”

-29-

Victory slid near the tiny escape pod as Keith maneuvered the great starship. Kai-Kaus technicians inside the Number 4 Hangar Bay used a tractor beam, gently tugging the pod nearer and nearer. They finessed the pod into a special cradle as the giant hangar-bay door closed.

Soon, medical personnel opened the pod, extracting the space-suited commander. An emergency team cracked her suit and eased her from it, putting her on mobile life-support. The mass of equipment and medical people hurried for the corridors to get her to the main medical facilities.

There, the chief physician led the revival sequence, ensuring her bodily functions started back up again. She remained unconscious the entire time, although her vital signs were strong.

Upon hearing all this, Maddox gave his permission to wake her up and see how soon she could take questions.

***

Kris Guderian shuddered as the grim cycle of nightmares finally ended. She had been in a dream loop, witnessing the planetary destruction in the New Arabian and 82. G. Eridani Systems. She had wept countless bitter times. It had made her sick and—

She groaned as her breathing deepened. The last vestiges of the nightmares faded, although she remembered what she’d dreamed. It had been appalling.

Her eyes opened. She expected to see the inside of her helmet. Instead, something much higher blurred—her vision focused as she realized she was staring up at a ceiling. That meant something important, but for several seconds she could not think what. Then it came to her. She was no longer in the escape pod. Someone must have rescued her.

Panic caused her heart to thud. Did the people firing asteroids have her? “Oh no,” she whispered.

“Ma’am,” a nurse asked, a slender man with soft hands. He peered down at her. “How are you feeling?”

Kris tried to speak again, but nothing came out.

“Relax,” the nurse said.

“Where…?” whispered Kris.

The nurse’s eyes brightened. “Where are you?”

Kris managed the barest of nods.

“In medical,” he said.

“W-Where?”

“Oh, on Starship Victory,” he said.

The panic faded as that sank in. She was in Starship Victory, Captain Maddox’s vessel. She was safe. The others did not have her.

The nurse patted her arm before disappearing. There was a conversation somewhere.

Kris smiled to herself. A moment later, a woman came into view. She was tall and red-haired with prominent cheekbones.

“I’m Doctor Harris,” the woman said. “How are you feeling?”

“Drained.”

Dr. Harris checked a chart. “Hmm. You’re strong enough. Everything is checking out. Would you care for a mild stimulant?”

“Please.”

The nurse reappeared and pressed a hypo against Kris’s arm. There was a hiss.

Almost immediately, Kris felt stronger. She blinked several times before she struggled to a seated position on her med-cot. There were a number of medical people watching the machines monitoring her.

“How…” Kris moistened her lips. “How long have I been out?”

“Your pod’s log says almost four months,” Harris said.

“Have there been more asteroidal attacks?”

“None that Star Watch has made known. So, I suspect not.”

“Oh, good,” Kris said, sagging against her pillow. “It may not be too late then.”

Dr. Harris eyed Kris critically, checked a chart and became thoughtful. “Do you feel up to a debriefing?”

“Yes,” Kris said, coughing afterward. “It’s imperative I speak to the captain.”

“He’s eager to speak to you. He’d like to know if you’re willing to have others present.”

“Yes, yes,” Kris said. “I’m dying to tell someone what I saw.”

“A poor choice of words,” Harris said. “But I’ll relay the message.”

“There is no need,” Galyan said from beside the bed.

Kris shrieked upon seeing the holoimage simply appear by her side.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Harris demanded.

“Please, I meant no harm,” Galyan said, addressing Kris. “The captain sent me to watch you. I have already told him you are ready to speak. We are all eagerly awaiting your tale. I imagine it is a good one.”

“Good?” Kris said. “It’s horrible.” But the holoimage was gone. She glanced at Dr. Harris.

The tall woman shrugged.

Kris exhaled and swung her legs over the bed. She had to tell her awful story and the sooner she did—

“What do you think you’re doing?” Harris asked.

“I’m a Star Watch officer. I’m reporting for duty. And I hope with all my heart that we’re not too late.”

***

Maddox presided over the debriefing in a conference chamber. Commander Kris Guderian sat at the center right of the long table with Dr. Harris seated beside her. Meta sat on the other side, patting the commander on the arm, trying to reassure her. Ludendorff, Galyan, Valerie and Andros Crank were also present as they sat across from Kris on the left side of the table.

“Where should I start?” Kris asked.

“Wherever you think it makes the most sense,” Maddox said.

“I was in prison on Alpha Sigma Nine not so long ago,” Kris said, her voice catching. “The commodore put me there because I wouldn’t denounce you. That was during the ascendency of Political Intelligence and HMD.”

Meta glanced significantly at Maddox.

“Why don’t you start there,” Maddox said.

Meta nodded in approval.

Kris looked around the table before giving them her account, which included the military prison firing squad, her escape from there, her perceptions about Commodore Smits, the death of Spengler and Corporal Johan aboard the Bombay, her task to search for missing asteroids—

“Just a moment, please,” Ludendorff said.

Kris stopped talking. She’d been explaining for some time, and her voice sounded rough. Dr. Harris had poured a glass of water, handing it to her now. Kris drank gratefully, nodding to the professor after setting down the glass.

“You say this Commodore Smits was sending you to the 82 G. Eridani System to search for missing asteroids?” Ludendorff asked.

“That is correct,” Kris said.

Ludendorff glanced at Maddox.

“Why is that important, Professor?” Maddox asked.

“The asteroids vanished?” Ludendorff asked Kris.

“Battleship Koniggratz had launched probes into the Asteroid Belt,” Kris said. “The probes confirmed that at least two asteroids were missing.”

Ludendorff shook his head.

“Koniggratz was stationed at Olmstead,” Kris said. “It was the only Star Watch vessel in the system. The governor of Olmstead asked the captain of the Koniggratz to send a message to our star base, requesting a science vessel for a more thorough investigation of the situation.”

“That is highly illuminating,” Ludendorff said, as he leaned back in his chair and rested his chin on his chest, clearly thinking.

Kris stared at the professor and then the captain.

“Please continue,” Maddox told her.

Kris did, describing the asteroid attack in detail, how her sensors picked up strange readings and then an asteroid would appear, traveling at twenty-five percent light-speed.

Ludendorff’s head popped up. “Say that again.”

“Twenty-five percent light-speed,” Kris said. “Each asteroid traveled at seventy-five thousand kilometers per second, leaving the Asteroid Belt and heading on a collision course for Olmstead.”

“Did the asteroid in question leave its normal location in the belt as it started for Olmstead?” Ludendorff asked.

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent,” Kris said. “Each asteroid appeared in the same general vicinity as it sped at the planet.”

Ludendorff scowled and once more leaned back and rested his chin on his chest.

Kris continued from there and told how Battleship Koniggratz attempted to deflect the first asteroid with nuclear-tipped missiles. As the battleship did that, the strange readings returned.

“I saw it happening,” Kris said. “The battleship slid out of view, the front part first and the back last. It looked as if it traveled into a different dimension.”

Maddox grunted, nodding.

Kris looked around, waited, and finally finished her tale about how the enemy came for the science vessel. She told how she’d raced to the escape pod. Once free of the Bombay, she searched for it, but the science vessel had vanished like the Koniggratz.

At that point, Kris put both hands flat on the table.

Maddox cleared his throat. “Thank you, Commander. That was thorough, your part exemplary and it will surely prove decisive in defeating our hidden foe. I have a question, though. Were you trying to hide from the Patrol vessels when they searched the system?”

“I went into hibernation mode after only a few days,” Kris said, blushing. “I-I couldn’t stand the confinement any longer. It reminded me too much of my prison cell on Sigma Alpha Nine.”

“Naturally it did,” Meta said, patting one of Kris’s hands.

“I left message buoys, though,” Kris said. “The Patrol vessels didn’t find them?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Maddox said.

“That seems odd.”

“Not if the enemy picked them up first,” Ludendorff said.

“Who is the enemy?” Kris asked. “How did they do what they did?”

When no one else spoke up, Ludendorff said, “I have a suspicion.”

“Well, spit it out, Professor,” Maddox said. “I’d like to know myself.”

“We all would,” Galyan said.

Ludendorff muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Maddox thought about why Ludendorff wouldn’t simply tell them. He glanced at Dr. Harris. Hmm, was she a spy perhaps? That seemed unlikely, but did Ludendorff suspect her? Or did Ludendorff think Guderian could be a plant?

“Dr. Harris,” Maddox said, “does the commander require rest?”

Harris glanced at Kris.

“I feel fine, really,” Kris said.

“Still…” Harris said, as she glanced at Maddox.

He nodded slightly.

“…It would be best if I ran a few more tests,” Harris said.

“Are there any more questions?” Kris asked, looking around the table.

“We’re going to discuss a few things first,” Maddox said. “After you finish the tests and get some rest, we’re going to barrage you with questions.”

Kris gave them a tremulous smile.

“Thank you,” Maddox said, standing. “As I’ve said, you acted bravely and I would add, wisely. I commend your action and will note that in my report to the Lord High Admiral.”

“I appreciate that,” Kris said. “You have no idea how I long to rejoin Star Watch in full capacity.”

“I might have some idea,” Maddox said. “Now, Doctor…”

Harris rose and helped Kris stand. The two left the conference chamber, the hatch closing behind them.

Maddox sat back down, eyeing the professor. “Let’s have it, old man. What do you know, and why didn’t you want to say it in front of those two?”

-30-

Maddox waited for the professor to speak. The Methuselah Man seemed stunned, frozen in position, as if all his energy was needed to fuel his high-octane brain.

At that point, Ludendorff stirred and took a deep, possibly steadying breath. “Those two…I’m not sure. It’s a gut feeling. Don’t you have those all the time?”

Maddox did not bother to reply.

“I’m amazed Commander Guderian survived as she did,” Ludendorff added. “It lends credence to the idea…I’m not sure I wish to state my objection just yet. Let’s see the test results first.”

“You think Meyers planted Guderian in the pod for us to find?” Maddox asked.

“Or allowed her to escape. I think it’s a possibility, yes.”

“For what possible reason?”

“Obviously, to throw us onto a false trail,” Ludendorff said.

“Sir,” Valerie said. “From what we know, Commander Guderian’s story checks out. It also fits the facts. The idea Meyers planted Guderian seems ridiculous to me. To be blunt, sir, the professor might be playing games with us. He’s certainly done it before.”

A faint smile spread onto Maddox’s face.

“You think I’m wrong, sir?” Valerie asked.

“No,” Maddox said. “You’re right. Ludendorff has ‘played games’ before, and he might be doing it now.”

“Here now,” Ludendorff said, standing. “If you don’t want my advice, I can leave.”

“Sit down,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff did not but pushed his chair back.

“Sit, Professor,” Maddox said, his voice firming.

“Or what?” Ludendorff asked.

“Professor,” Meta chided, “you can’t possibly be angry with us for being suspicious of you. It’s a natural reaction. You repeatedly bring it on yourself. Please, why don’t you sit down so we can continue? Matters are too important for us to quarrel unnecessarily.”

Ludendorff stared at Meta, nodded and sat abruptly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He sighed, facing the captain. “I know you’ve vetted all your people. It’s just—” Ludendorff shook his head. “Confound it, my boy, I don’t like where this is leading.”

“And where is that?” asked Maddox.

Ludendorff’s nostrils flared as he stared at the table. It seemed as if he were peering through the wooden top into some distant place. His features became slack, and his shoulders slumped. He breathed in and out slowly a few times before whispering, “Eureka,” as his gaze refocused, and he looked up at the others before centering on the captain. “I can’t believe it, my boy. Do you remember how I said there was a tickle of an ancient memory in my subconscious?”

“Of course,” Maddox said.

“It has suddenly blossomed, no doubt because of the commander’s tale. I would need to verify a few more facts to be one hundred percent certain, but I think I know what happened—and I no longer contend that Meyers planted the commander in the pod.”

Maddox waited for the revelation.

“It is my new belief that Commander Guderian witnessed a null region in operation,” Ludendorff declared.

Maddox raised his eyebrows. “Null region? Like the one we entered holding captured Destroyers?”

“Not the same one, of course,” Ludendorff said, “but otherwise, yes.”

“But…a null region…” Maddox grew thoughtful. “I see where you’re going with this. A null region is another dimension, a pocket universe, in theory.”

“That is correct,” Ludendorff said.

“Okay, one part of that makes sense. But how would a null region swallowing and spitting an asteroid cause the object to travel at twenty-five percent light-speed?”

“That I don’t know.”

“Is the null region still here?”

Ludendorff’s head jerked back. “What an odd question. A null region is other, a different place. By definition, it cannot be here.”

“Don’t be obtuse, Professor. Guderian told us she saw wavering energy and detected it on her sensor. After that, a battleship slid out of normal time and space and into another place. That place also ejected asteroids, using a similar energy signature. That means in some way a null region lies beside normal space, able to do these things in the 82 G. Eridani System and not in another.”

“In a crude manner of speaking, I suppose you’re correct.”

“Crude or otherwise,” Maddox said, “is the null region still here or still connected to this particular star system?”

Instead of answering, Ludendorff bent his head, putting his hands on the edge of the table and groaning.

“Professor,” Galyan said. “What is causing your discomfort?”

Ludendorff pushed upward, exhaling as he eyed the others. “I’m saddened by the understanding that I finally see that Meyers’ manifesto speaks truly concerning her desires.”

“Manifesto?” asked Valerie.

Ludendorff glanced at Maddox. “You didn’t tell them?”

“Why don’t you go ahead,” Maddox said, “as now is as good a time as any.”

“As you wish.” Ludendorff cleared his throat, straightening as he said, “Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers desires to destroy all human life in order that the essence aiding humanity will wither away. She believes in a life force that powers a successful civilization.”

“I don’t understand,” Valerie said.

“Hmm…” Ludendorff said. “How can I put this? Ah. Only one race can use this mythical life force in a given region, according to Meyers’ thinking, anyway. If we humans vanish—for whatever reason—Meyers believes that she can reintroduce the Builders, and they will thrive as the waiting life force fills them with desire to live and achieve. Their rebirth will then bring an age of renewed Builder glory to this region of space.”

“That’s madness,” Valerie said. “And you’re sad that Meyers is crazy?”

“I am, I am,” Ludendorff said. “But that wasn’t my precise meaning. I’m sad Meyers is using Builder technology toward such a nefarious end. Genocide is the opposite of Builder thinking.”

“The null regions are Builder designed?” Valerie asked.

“Come now, Lieutenant,” Ludendorff said, “you should already know that from some of our previous missions.”

“You never told us the Builders designed the null regions,” Valerie said, “just that they used them.”

“Didn’t I?” asked Ludendorff. “I’m certain I did. Whatever the case, the Builders long ago constructed the null regions to hold Destroyers and other wondrous prizes and sometimes strange denizens as we discovered to our peril when we faced a Ska.”

“I remember that part only too well,” Valerie said.

“There’s something different about this null region, isn’t there?” Maddox asked.

“Yes,” Ludendorff said. “This one is mobile.”

“Mobile how?” asked Maddox.

Ludendorff looked up at the ceiling before answering. “You were correct earlier in your brutish assessment that the null regions are pressed against the underside of our reality or dimension, or normal space. This one can maneuver and—” Ludendorff blinked, blinked again and then stared off into space.

“Professor?” Maddox asked.

The Methuselah Man did not respond.

After glancing at the others—Valerie shrugged—Maddox rose, coming around the table. With his left index finger, he gently pushed the professor’s shoulder.

Nothing happened.

Maddox leaned near and whispered in his ear, “Professor, can you hear me?”

Still, nothing happened.

Maddox frowned, and on impulse, he took the little finger of his left hand, stuck it in the professor’s ear and wriggled the fingertip.

Ludendorff’s head jerked and the Methuselah Man swiveled around. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Seeing what’s wrong with you,” Maddox said, unabashed.

“I’m—”

“I believe the term is, you spaced out, Professor,” Galyan said, interrupting.

Ludendorff turned toward the holoimage.

“Zoned out would also be an acceptable phrase,” Galyan said.

“Goodness gracious,” Ludendorff said in awe. “I remember, or I’m starting to remember.”

Maddox returned to the head of the table, sitting down.

“It’s an old, old story,” Ludendorff said quietly. “The tale is from the time of the terrible war between the Builders and the Nameless Ones. They came with their Destroyers, and in places, they conquered star systems. In some of those systems, they installed factories to build more of their annihilating machines. The Builders decided to attack those planets, losing hundreds of ships in the process. Finally, they used a mobile null region to make the assault.”

“How does one control a mobile null region?” Maddox asked.

“Indeed,” Ludendorff said, sucking on his lower lip. “That’s an excellent question along with how does the null region accelerate huge asteroids to such speeds. I don’t know. Obviously, there is detailed information somewhere, a library of sorts. Perhaps we should search for the library so we can proceed with knowledge.”

“It would help if we knew where to look,” Maddox said. “We don’t have time to just scour willy-nilly for your library.”

“Sir,” Galyan said. “If the professor is correct, then Meyers or one of her representatives has taken control of the mobile null region. It is conceivable they practiced in this star system to perfect their method. Given Meyers’ stated goal, it is logical the next asteroid attack would take place in the Solar System in order to smash the Commonwealth’s unifying center, Earth.”

“Agreed,” said Maddox. “Professor, how fast does a mobile null region travel?”

“I have no idea.”

“All right, it’s time to get serious. Where could we find out? Where is this library?”

“I would love to tell you, believe me, I would,” Ludendorff said. “But my mind is blank concerning such a library. However, much of that will be moot. If you’ll recall, last time we headed for a null region, I fabricated special photon suits for you to operate there. Even so, you did not operate at one hundred percent efficiency.”

“Professor,” Galyan said. “You alone did not fabricate the suits. Dana, Andros and you made them. I remember you praising Andros, how his practicality of mind made the suits a possibility.”

“Yes, yes,” Ludendorff said. “The three of us fabricated them. Why must you be so pedantic?”

“Truth and precision are pedantic?” Galyan asked.

“No,” Maddox said.

“Thank you, sir,” Galyan said. “I would also like to point out that it was not the null region itself that caused the lack of efficiency concerning the photon suits, but the terror-inducing Ska that inhabited that particular null region. Those wearing the suits had swallowed ‘happy pills’ against the Ska’s debilitating effects. That is what caused the lack of efficiency.”

“Good point, Galyan,” Maddox said. “Meyers might have learned about our photon suits or developed another method for her people working in the null region.”

“Undoubtedly true,” Ludendorff said, “but that doesn’t help us.”

Maddox considered the problem until he stood abruptly. “I have to call the Lord High Admiral and explain the dilemma. In the meantime, Professor, I wish you’d figure out a way to remember more about this mobile null region.”

Ludendorff nodded sagely. “In the end, it’s always up to the scientist. In the most important cases, that means me. I will forge ahead, Captain. You can be sure of that.”

“Wonderful. It cheers me no end to hear you say that. Andros, Galyan, see if you can come up with anything. And now—I’m off.” Maddox headed for the exit.

-31-

As the Queen’s flotilla continued its journey, Dag the Champion trained with the Merovingians, turning them into his warriors. It was slow and steady work, hidden in ways so the Queen wouldn’t become suspicious of what he attempted. They didn’t only train with old-fashioned knives and lances, but modern combat weapons as well.

The days merged in hard but productive exercises, leaving many of the Merovingians with broken bones or bruises. Tobias had rejoined them, having recovered from his thrashing in the hangar bay. He was much quieter, polite when Dag was around, but the Champion could feel the other watching him and waiting for an opportunity. Dag would never give Tobias that chance, but remained ready to kill him if he must.

Finally, the Queen summoned Dag to a special meeting. He was to come alone, without any of his lieutenants.

Dag wore Merovingian armor as befitted a war-captain seeing his Queen, but he left his ceremonial weapons behind. Dag found himself flanked by hard-eyed soldiers with drawn blasters. They marched him down the hauler’s corridors, small men, smaller than he, anyway. Without their blasters, he could have defeated the six of them, knocking their heads together as if they were clowns. They were almost beneath his notice. Still, why did the Queen see fit to have these weaklings escort him? After several corridor turns, he decided it didn’t matter.

Soon enough, the last hatch lifted. Dag ducked his head and entered a luxurious room containing large pink pillows, sheer curtains and lace-lined cushions. In the rear of the perfumed chamber, the Queen sat on a golden throne, which was perched on a dais.

The six blaster-armed soldiers fanned out, taking up station at the front of the chamber near the bulkheads. They kept their eyes on Dag as he approached the throne.

The Queen looked as radiant as ever. She wore finery that exposed her cleavage and allowed Dag to see her smooth limbs and long legs. She wore a diadem of diamonds that glittered with the chamber’s light. In her right hand, she held a scepter topped with a large ruby. There was a switch near her fingers. Perhaps the scepter could double as a weapon.

Dag removed his helmet and bent on one knee, bowing before her. “My Queen, I have come.” He waited, feeling her scrutiny, wondering if he had erred somehow.

“Stand, Champion,” she said.

He stood to his great height, with the helmet tucked in the crook of his right arm.

She let her gaze rove over him, and for the first time Dag became uncomfortable, and he could not say why. He felt the power of her intellect and personality. It was like heat from a star. He felt something else, too, something unbounded and ferocious. It was there in her eyes, swirling…

Dag shifted uncomfortably.

“I have raised you from the depths of weakness,” she proclaimed. “Once, you were a banker in a coin house. You worried about profits, about margins and percentages. It was a poor life, with nothing heroic to cherish, to stir the heart.”

Dag dipped his head in acknowledgement. He had faint memories of that time, but they were like wisps, phantasms of the mind.

“I have given you a mighty body and turned your mind into a weapon. The spirit belongs to you, and with that, I am pleased.”

Once more, Dag dipped his head.

“To achieve these things cost you in agony and worry,” she added.

He grunted agreement, not wanting to remember the ordeal.

“Now, I am about to unleash you upon a universe. You will have a great task to perform. If you fail, you will have failed me and yourself in your grand design.”

He waited, wondering what in the hell she was talking about.

“You have a single, possibly fatal flaw,” she said. “Do you know what it is?”

He shook his head.

She leaned back against her throne, studying him. “I think you do.”

Once more, he went down onto one knee and dipped his head. “Please instruct me, O Queen.”

“You have gained intellect,” she said. “With that, naturally, arises ambition. Some ambition is good and even noble. Too much, though, is traitorous.”

Dag looked up, and he found her gaze intense and actually frightening. He grew aware of the soldiers behind him, men with blasters. He hardened his resolve. If he died—he died.

“Dag, Dag, Dag,” she said. “You are disappointing me. Do you know that I could reverse the process and leave you as the imbecilic Dagobert Dan?”

His mouth turned dry. She’d actually found a way to cause him to fear, genuine fear. “How have I offended you, Majesty?”

“You are attempting to usurp the loyalty of the Merovingians,” she said softly. “You wish them to look to you first, before me.”

His mouth turned drier. He debated lying about that, but it was beneath him. He was a warrior, the champion. It was best to go to death with his head held high. “Yes,” he heard himself say. “It is true. I have sinned against your Majesty. I beg your forgiveness.”

She stared at him in silence.

He waited.

“My dear Dag…” she said, “you surprise me. What is more, you have just escaped a horrible punishment. That you could admit it…I may still use you. You can still redeem yourself in my eyes.”

“Instruct me,” he said.

She leveled the scepter, aiming the ruby from one side of him to another. “You may leave,” she said.

Dag almost rose. Then, he heard the six soldiers filing out of the chamber. The hatch slid shut behind them.

“They would have destroyed your arms and legs,” she said. “I would have had the doctors graft you new ones. By that time, you would have been Dagobert Dan again.”

He waited with his head bowed, tightening his muscles so he did not tremble.

“Look at me,” she said.

He did, and gasped.

She sat regally upon the throne. Yet, in some manner, she had become a sex goddess as well. The curvature of her body, the luster of her eyes and the wondrous length of her hair…if he could have her—he would do anything to have her, to lay with her.

She laughed with sultry intoxicating power. “Dag the Champion, you know how to desire a woman, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said thickly.

“You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I am Lisa Meyers. I am the Methuselah Woman. I am the greatest mortal of this pathetic race of humanity. The Builders granted me more than they did any of the other Methuselah People. I used to wonder why this was so. Now, I know. It is because…” She laughed at him as if he were less, as if he were too stupid to understand her glory, and perhaps he was.

She raised the scepter. The ruby glowed, and it felt as if cold water poured over his head. He gasped, and the overwhelming lust to have her fled from him. It left him…depleted and unhappy, as if he had left the presence of the goddess of rutting and physical gratification.

“Perhaps after we are done here…” she said. “Then, I will show you delight that you could not have dreamed possible. If I do that, however, you will never know sexual satisfaction with any other female. Think carefully before you answer. Know me tonight, Dag, and I will fulfill you to the utmost. Know me tonight and other women will pale in comparison, and you will grovel in my presence in order to know such fulfillment again.”

He blinked at her, wanting sexual excess with her, but nervous that maybe he would never gain it again from any other—which would make him her slave.

“Yes,” she said. “That was the final test. You do possess the ability to delay gratification. You understand the consequences of choice. Even though you might yearn to know my embrace, the thought of future actions and feelings gives you pause. If I turn the setting high enough—and I still may, for I would like to feel your rough caress—you would be unable to resist. That you can resist to a degree—Dag, do you wonder why I fashioned you the way I did?”

He shook his head.

She sat straighter, becoming haughty in a regal way. “I have a problem, a mini-rebellion in my Merovingian Corps. No, I’m not talking about you or any of the warriors in the present expedition. I mean elsewhere. I have a…a weapon of wondrously destructive power. A pocket universe, a null region. It is a terrible thing to unleash, but also difficult to deploy. The Builders of old fashioned it. I found it, almost by accident, one might say. However, it has been successfully employed. The property of the null region—” She laughed. “It has terrible, frightful properties, warping the intellect and affections of those who enter the pocket universe. The control unit within the null region deflects some of this, but not enough, not nearly enough. There is another element, the Accelerator. It is dangerous to use correctly, deadly if used incorrectly. At the moment, I am unsure if the current operator is still obedient to my ultimate plan. You are going to check on him, kill him if that’s what is needed, and regain control of it for me. Does any of that make sense?”

“A little,” he said.

“A null region—no, I don’t think that’s the right way to explain it. Tomorrow, you will enter the simulator. If you survive the experience, you will begin selecting your team to undergo the same treatment. Then, and only then, will I explain the next step in the plan. O Dag, for this I’ve molded you. For this, I need you. If you are faithful and successful, the stars are yours for the taking. If you fail, however…”

“I will not fail,” he said.

She studied him. “We shall see, O Champion. We shall most certainly see.”

-32-

Professor Ludendorff clicked upon a keyboard. He was in hiding in his science laboratory, away from the others and their snide insinuations and glances. He stared keenly at the screen as his armies marched across the computer landscape. He’d been in here for hours already, failing to fall asleep, tossing and turning instead as he tried to penetrate the mystery in his memories. Finally, he’d gotten up and turned on the computer.

He was sure about the Builders having designed a mobile null region. He was certain they’d used it against the Destroyers of the Nameless Ones as he’d told the others. According to his spotty memory, the Builders had only constructed one such mobile null region. There had been something odd about it, something different from other null regions that were, in the end, merely exotic storage facilities.

Ludendorff stared at the screen as the computer armies finished their move. A second later, he grinned as he typed, moving his First Army against the Orcs at Thunder Mountain. He’d fashioned this army to defeat Orc Hordes and had given it his best computer commander: General or Strategos Memnon Zees. Now, he switched to the tactical screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he launched his skirmishers upon the enemy.

Yes. He should have been doing anything but playing a computer game right now. But he was stymied in his thoughts. He didn’t know what to do. So…he’d done the next best thing and gone to his favorite computer game. He’d long ago modified the program, making it three times more difficult than the software designers had been able to do. That was one of the advantages of being a genius. He played the best computer simulations. The bad thing was that he could beat all the games. Thus, he set them at higher and tougher settings, giving them twice as much, three times, four times and then six and seven times the beginning hordes. The wonder to him was that his fantastic computer playing skills didn’t directly translate one-for-one to the real world.

That was most odd, most odd indeed.

For the next half hour, he forgot all about the ancient memory stored in his keen mind. He let himself play, enjoying each melee. Finally, though, his depleted First Army limped off the computer battlefield, having smashed the great Orc Horde.

At that point, Ludendorff sat back and glanced at the chronometer. He groaned softly, chiding himself for wasting precious time. He should have been thinking, sleeping, anything but wasting his life before the computer screen playing these damned games. But often, they were more fun than real life.

He saved the game, hesitated and finally switched off the game computer. He stood and walked about the room. Why did he waste so much time playing games? These games were like a drug to him so he could switch off his mind. Galyan would have said he was zoned out, and the AI monkey-alien would have been right.

He stood at a table, staring at littered parts. He’d lived such a long time, seen so much and tasted many real victories and many defeats, as well. It never ended, though. Life just marched on one day at a time no matter what he did.

“You’re wasting time, old son,” he said to himself. “Blast through to the memory by willpower. That’s what the di-far would do.”

Ludendorff shook his head. Memories and the ability to retrieve them had always made him marvel. The human mind was so complex and enduring.

The Methuselah Man closed his eyes as he stood there. He put his leathery hands on the table and let himself relax. Yes. He’d wasted time at the computer game. Maybe that had let his mind zone out so he could ask it to perform a difficult task for him. Maybe the game had put him in the proper frame of mind. Maybe he needed to waste time in order to do this.

He sighed with his eyes still closed.

A null region was dark, and it drank energy. It stilled life. It was apart from normal time and space. It was akin to a pocket universe. He’d told Maddox that this one traveled along the underside of reality. Most null regions were fixed in position. One of them had been connected to various and quite distant places in real space-time: the one they’d entered that had held the Ska.

Well, that didn’t matter here. The Builders had made this one mobile. It traveled through a nefarious process that he had never perceived, or didn’t believe that he had.

“Long ago…” Ludendorff whispered.

He’d made his bones as an agent for the Builders. He’d received the Methuselah Treatment. A Builder had expanded his mind and changed his body so the DNA would not deteriorate as fast as normal humans’ did. The Builders had been glorious and oh-so knowledgeable. They had been like gods to the Methuselah People. Lisa Meyers had taken it too far, though.

“Lisa,” Ludendorff whispered. “What happened to you? Why did your mind warp into what it is today? Did the Yon-Soth ray cause that, or did the ray merely accelerate a process already at work in you?”

He let his thoughts drift and tried a sneak attack into his memories. The mobile null region: where had he learned about it? Might it have been the time he’d thought about slipping into a special repository of Builder knowledge? Strand had been there. Hmm…there had been something odd about the memory, the moment. What had that been?

A tantalizing image popped into his memories. He had been so much younger then, so keen for mysteries and understanding. He’d spoken to a Builder and later talked to Strand about it…

***

Young Professor Ludendorff was on a dark world 562 light-years from Earth. He was in an underground city and had just met with Strand. The two of them had traded stories, Strand telling him that he’d slipped into the Crystal Oracle Chamber, managing to extract ancient Builder lore concerning human modification.

Afterward, Ludendorff walked the tunnels. Strand always went too far and disobeyed the Builders, but the intriguer knew more than he did about so many things. Maybe he should take a page out of Strand’s book and go to the Crystal Oracle Chamber himself. He could lift even older lore, outperforming the tricky, boastful sod.

An hour later, young Ludendorff—with his thick wavy brown hair and smooth hands—crawled through an access tube, huffing and puffing as he scuttled his sixth kilometer. He should have prepared better and not gone off half-cocked. What if a Builder caught him? What if that disqualified him from the Methuselah Man Service?

“Is Strand better than you?” young Ludendorff asked himself. “Hell no,” came the soft answer.

Two kilometers later, the heat from the Crystal Oracle Chamber radiated against him in the access tube. He was slicked with sweat, and his clothes were drenched. If he wasn’t careful, he would collapse from dehydration.

Swallowing, easing a wall plate out of the way, Ludendorff wriggled through the opening and found himself in a mighty chamber of shining bright light. He put a hand before his eyes and fiddled with a jacket pocket, finally withdrawing a pair of dark sunglasses. He put them on and heaved a sigh of relief.

Crystal columns rose all around him. They pulsated with amazingly bright hot light. Here, Builders came to deposit and extract knowledge.

Young Ludendorff looked around in awe. He’d seen pictures of this cathedral light chamber, but had never thought in his life to be here in person. It was glorious. It was awe-inspiring.

“Get a grip, son,” he told himself.

Ludendorff swallowed in a dry throat, memorized this location and counted out steps as he wandered past the great crystal columns. He was looking for the oldest columns, which would contain the oldest Builder lore. At last, he reached one that did not shine as brightly nor stand as tall. It was in the center of the chamber, the others radiating outward in a circle: the Builder way of doing it.

Rubbing his hands together, Ludendorff felt for depressions in the column. They were there just as Strand had said. Firming his resolve, Ludendorff began to climb the warm crystal column. It was slow and tedious work, and his heart beat faster. He was slick with sweat and he knew this was a mighty theft. If a Builder learned of this—

“Knowledge,” Ludendorff breathed. He wanted greater and better knowledge than Strand had stolen. This was a mighty dare. What would he learn? How would that change his outlook upon reality?

Young Ludendorff was becoming giddy with excitement. At last, he pulled himself to the top. With a shaking hand, he inserted it into a round opening, where a Builder would insert a special body cord. He thrust his arm as deep as it would go, his fingertips straining, brushing against—

Ludendorff went stiff with agony as memories rushed upon his mind. It was a torrent of ancient Builder lore, speeding into his mind faster than he could intake. His arm jerked out of the round opening, and he spun the arm around and around as he tried to keep his balance on the column.

“No,” he hissed.

He lost his balance, tottering like a felled tree, and he nearly sailed headfirst toward the floor. Before that happened, he shoved upward and outward with his legs, propelling himself up and out. He hung in the air for a microsecond. Then, he plummeted.

He braced himself, bent his knees and smashed against the floor. He crumpled, groaning, certain that he’d broken his feet. He lay there for a time and finally sat up. He bent forward and tested one foot.

A shudder of agony knifed up that leg. He must indeed have broken bones in the foot. He tested the other, the left foot. It was sore, but not with knife-like agony. The right foot must have taken the brunt of the force.

Should he just lie here and let the first Builder find him?

“No,” he whispered.

Thus began a grueling ordeal as Ludendorff crawled back in the direction he believed would take him to the access opening. His mind was a blur as memories leaked away. Other stolen Builder memories stuck, and he was certain he would be able to pull them up later.

He laughed at times, cried at others. Finally, perhaps almost miraculously—

“No, no, I am a Methuselah Man. This is a work of intelligence, not luck.”

In either case, he crawled through the access opening and reattached the wall plate. Then, he began the long, slow crawl through the tube. He was parched, but he would be damned if he was going to let that defeat him after all this. The idea of accessing and remembering some of the stolen memories gave him extra fortitude.

He served the Builders, and he was in awe of them still, but he wouldn’t let the sneak Strand outperform him, not on any day.

The wild part of it was that Strand met and helped him out of the access tube. The slender, dark-haired Strand gave him one bottle of water after another.

“You did it, Ludendorff. I didn’t think you had the balls.”

“You did it?”

Strand laughed. “No. I told you I did it. I wanted to see if you would try too, in order to best me.”

“You lied to me?”

“Of course,” Strand said. “You’re so pathetically naive sometimes. I worry about you.”

Ludendorff stared slack-jawed at the lying son of a bitch.

“This might help,” Strand said.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Strand pressed a hypo against Ludendorff’s left shoulder, causing air to hiss. Ludendorff knocked the hypo away so it skittered across the tunnel floor.

“You bastard!” Ludendorff shouted, lunging at Strand.

The slender, dark-haired Methuselah Man skipped back out of range and jumped back again as Ludendorff dove for him.

“What did you put in me?”

Strand’s wicked grin broadened into a smile.

Soon, Ludendorff felt his eyelids grow heavy. He saw Strand approach cautiously, finally helping him sit up against a wall. The slender Methuselah Man produced a pouch, pulling a black headband out of it. He slid the band onto Ludendorff’s head. Then, he pulled out a black box, extracted an antenna and switched on the device.

Ludendorff became lightheaded as an essence drained from his mind. His vision darkened and he grew sleepy. He did not fall asleep, becoming dimly aware that Strand was taking the Builder data he’d stolen from a Crystal Oracle column. He heard Strand mutter something. What was it? What did the tricky Loki of a Methuselah Man say?

“Memnon Zees, it works,” Strand said softly.

With that, the ancient memory in its present clarity and vividness began to fade. White-haired Professor Ludendorff found himself leaning against a table in his science laboratory aboard Starship Victory as he stared at a bulkhead.

“Memnon Zees?” Ludendorff said aloud. “Why, that’s the name of my First Army Strategos.”

Enlightenment struck. Ludendorff realized his subconscious had known the answer all along. The computer game had been important after all. But what did ‘Memnon Zees’ mean? If he could figure it out…

“I must,” Ludendorff said. “I absolutely must.”

-33-

Five hours later, Maddox sat on a stool in the professor’s science lab, listening to the man recount the old tale of him as a young Methuselah Man on the Builder Dark World as he raided the Crystal Oracle Chamber. Ludendorff finished the story by telling how Strand had said, “Memnon Zees, it works.”

“Was that Strand’s first treacherous assault against you?” Maddox asked.

“No,” Ludendorff said. “I mean, yes, it must have been. I never knew about it until today. I didn’t remember anything afterward at the time. I woke up, as it were, finding Strand helping me down the corridor. ‘What happened?’ I asked him.

“‘You must have tried to enter the access tube,” Strand told me. ‘It zapped you, you broke your foot—I don’t know how—and I found you unconscious on the floor.’”

“‘Then I’m lucky you came along.’

“‘Yes indeed,’ Strand told me, ‘before a Builder found you.’”

“In other words,” Maddox said. “He fed you a line of bullshit after draining the ancient Builder memories from you.”

Ludendorff sighed. “I wonder if that was the only time he did that? Might there have been other times he used that confounded contraption on me?”

“I’d say so,” Maddox said. “Sneakiness was his MO from the beginning, but it took you centuries before you found out. Now, though, what does Memnon Zees mean? I imagine you’ve figured it out.”

“I have,” Ludendorff said. “It’s from an ancient language, a borrowed phrase. It means, ‘Stripping the memory.’”

“And how does that help us?”

“The phrase is obvious and doesn’t help as such,” Ludendorff said. “The ancient language is the key. There is a planet far from here, over fifteen hundred light-years and deep in the Beyond. I won’t name the planet or star system just yet. However, I’m certain that Strand has a cache of tech items, possibly another Strand clone in stasis and other objects stashed there. It would be the library I was talking about earlier.”

“What leads you to such a conclusion?”

“Several hints Strand dropped throughout the centuries. I won’t go into that either, as I refuse to let anyone ever strip of me of my secrets again.”

“Meaning, you want to raid the library planet yourself, eh?” asked Maddox.

“Maybe in time,” Ludendorff said. “It’s far off the beaten path, so now isn’t the time to worry about it.”

“Fine,” Maddox said. “What I want to know is how any of this helps us with the mobile null region?”

“I believe I found data concerning it in the ancient Crystal Oracle column I reached in my youth on the Dark World.”

“And Strand has read the data?”

“Most certainly,” Ludendorff said.

“Then we need to speak to Strand.”

“Which we can’t,” Ludendorff said. “The Emperor has him locked up on the Throne World. However, you do you have a Long-Range Builder Communicator. You can speak to the Emperor about Strand.”

“The Lord High Admiral already tried that and failed to gain the Emperor’s help.”

“Of course, I know that,” Ludendorff said. “But Cook doesn’t have the inducements we do. I think if you speak to the Emperor—your second cousin—you might prevail upon him to question Strand for us.”

“They already have spoken to Strand about Meyers. He won’t budge, won’t help.”

“Of course, I already realize that, too,” Ludendorff said. “However, if you have the Emperor tell Strand, ‘Memnon Zees’—in the proper setting, of course—I believe you’ll find Strand eager to give us the knowledge concerning the mobile null region. The point is by having the Emperor tell Strand that, Strand will realize I know about the library planet, and if he doesn’t tell us what we want to know…we’ll raid the library planet ourselves. Strand won’t want us to do that.”

Maddox cocked his head, thinking through Ludendorff’s logic. “I don’t know, Professor. You’re attempting to be tricky through a convoluted mess. It’s an iffy proposition, as you should remember that we’re not only dealing through New Men but through the best of them. We’ll have to assume the Emperor will learn what Memnon Zees means, will learn about the library planet. I’m not crazy about handing the New Men ancient hidden secrets.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Ludendorff said. “They’ll learn the phrase is a whip to drive Strand, but they won’t learn why, won’t necessarily learn about the library planet.”

“Don’t count on it. If the New Men acquire the hidden cache on this secret planet…that might mean trading one problem for another.”

“Well…there is the possibility that could happen, but I accept that. Remember, one is happening now and is a gun aimed at our collective heads. The other is a future possibility at most.”

“There is that,” Maddox said. “We’d have to word the question carefully, hoping the Emperor says it to Strand that way, and we’d have to word it so the Emperor gains the least information possible from us.”

“There you have it, my boy. I’ve done the heavy lifting as usual. I’ve given you the lead. Now, it’s up to you to use your signature lowbrow cunning to pry the data from our foe and into our hands.”

“How fortunate we are to sit in the presence of your blazing intellect,” Maddox said. “It’s a mystery our minds aren’t burned to cinders just listening to you.”

“Your snide remarks are par for the course, as you speak more truly than you realize. Now, I’m tired, and I think I can finally catch some sleep.”

Maddox stood, staring at the Methuselah Man. “It is remarkable that you’ve stored such varied and vast amounts of information in your brain: several lifetimes of data.” The captain grinned. “Thank you, Professor. You’ve come through for us again. I appreciate it.”

Ludendorff scowled. “What’s the catch? Why don’t I hear any mockery in your praise?”

“Because there is no mockery,” Maddox said. “My praise is genuine.” He made an off-handed salute. “Get some sleep. I’ll see what I can do with this Memnon Zees code phrase.”

-34-

Maddox did his best thinking while hitting the heavy bag, taking a long hot shower or walking the corridors. Today, he moved quickly through the giant starship, his long strides eating up the distance. He debated ideas, stratagems and possibilities. Finally, he hit upon a plan, and he realized that legally, he should ask the Lord High Admiral’s permission to proceed first.

“Blood is thicker than water,” Maddox muttered under his breath.

It was odd how fate had intervened. The Emperor and Golden Ural were cousins. Maddox’s father and Golden Ural had been brothers. That meant he was related to the Emperor of the Throne World. Did that give him a right to make such a call without permission?

“It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” Maddox said, a maxim that had proven itself many times over already. This was a crisis, one happening now. If anything ominous started later because of the call, he could deal with it later—he hoped.

With that settled, Maddox turned around, heading for the Long-Range Builder Communication Room. He might have asked the Lord High Admiral for permission if the Iron Lady was still in office. She had backed him many times—

Maddox scowled. He had to figure out a way to get her reinstated. Ludendorff had suffered mind manipulation, and no one was putting the Methuselah Man on ice. Mary O’Hara was a key asset. Star Watch needed her expertise.

Maddox shook his head: one problem at a time.

Several minutes later, he entered the special chamber, closing the hatch behind him. Even though his stomach seethed, he went to the couch and sat down, facing the bulky communicator on the table. He hesitated, frowning. Was this really the right thing to do?

“Oh, hell,” Maddox said, picking up the microphone. Yet, even still, he paused, finding himself staring at the device. Was he trading one problem for another? “How can I know?” he whispered.

“Know what, sir?”

Maddox gave a start as Galyan appeared. He refrained from scowling or reprimanding the holoimage. Instead, he waited.

“You have several unspoken questions,” Galyan said. “At least, that is what my psychological profile on you is suggesting.”

“I see. Well, why don’t you answer them?”

“I hope I did the right thing, sir. You did not tell me not to follow you. Thus, yes, I heard what the professor told you in his science laboratory.”

“And?”

“I have detected hesitation on your part. That leads me to believe that you know that per orders you are to call the Lord High Admiral for permission to call the Emperor.”

“What else?”

“In my opinion—another of your unasked questions—you should follow the chain of command this time.”

“Hmm….”

“My last answer is this, sir. The reason is that whatever happens, you do not want to carry the blame, as there are already strong forces in Star Watch that dearly desire your absence or death. The HMD proves my thought, as does the former Political Intelligence Division. They are presently in retreat, but I do not think that will always be the case.”

“He who dares, wins,” Maddox said.

“He who dares enough eventually loses a few contests,” Galyan said. “That is when it is wiser to have backup and contingency plans.”

Maddox leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “Right,” he said, leaning forward and manipulating the bulky device. He pressed send, waiting until a light blinked green. “This is Captain Maddox speaking. I’m urgently requesting to speak to the Lord High Admiral, as I need him to make a policy decision. Yes…yes, I’ll wait.”

Maddox turned to Galyan, “Cook had better give me permission.”

“For both our sakes, I hope he does, sir.”

Maddox nodded, waiting for the Lord High Admiral.

***

Twenty-three minutes later, Maddox cut the connection with the Lord High Admiral. The old man had given his reluctant consent to the idea. It was a go.

“Do you not feel better, sir, for having asked permission?” Galyan asked.

“Not really,” Maddox said.

“You enjoy racing ahead on your own volition?”

“Would I have done it so often if that wasn’t the case?”

“Noted,” Galyan said. “May I stay for the call?”

“Yes,” Maddox said, as he reset the coordinates. He sipped from a bottle of water, rinsed his mouth and picked up the microphone, making the call to the Emperor of the Throne World.

A New Man answered, listening to Maddox’s request. “You are presumptuous,” the New Man said curtly. “I am terminating the connection—”

“I also have a long-range com-link to Golden Ural,” Maddox said.

There was a moment’s hesitation until the New Man asked, “Why should that concern me?”

“Golden Ural is my uncle.”

“That is an unsubstantiated slur.”

“I am the son of Ural’s brother.”

“He has more than ten brothers. To which do you refer?”

It occurred to Maddox that he hadn’t learned his father’s name. What a strange oversight. “My father married Sandra O’Hara.”

There was silence on the other end, but the connection still held.

“Do you hear me?” Maddox asked.

There was no answer.

Maddox glanced at Galyan.

“Perhaps he went to get the Emperor,” Galyan suggested.

Maddox snorted softly. That made the most sense. The arrogant New Man hadn’t told him to wait; he’d simply left.

Fifteen minutes later, there was noise from the comm device, and a regal, proud New Man said, “This is the Emperor.”

“This is Captain Maddox, Your Majesty. Thank you for taking the call.”

“What do you want with me?”

“Sir, I have discovered evidence of a dangerous mobile null region. It is in the possession of Lisa Meyers.”

“Golden Ural says otherwise.”

Maddox glanced at Galyan before saying, “Perhaps I was slightly inaccurate. I mean, it is in the possession of her people, who act at her bidding.”

There was no comment.

Maddox cleared his throat. “Meyers’ people have used the mobile null region to launch asteroids at a populated planet. Those asteroids smashed the world, killing everyone.”

“That is a potent weapon,” the Emperor said. “I can understand why you fear it. What does that have to do with me?”

“It might be a threat to you too. Professor Ludendorff has uncovered ancient data, a memory, to be precise. He believes that Methuselah Man Strand stole ancient Builder knowledge from him in their early days under the aliens. Some of this data included knowledge about the mobile null region.”

“Captain Maddox, you are near to a New Man in ability. Golden Ural has spoken of how you absorbed the spiritual energy of a slain Erill. Because you are like unto one of us, and lay claim through the blood, I have listened to you. If, however, you expect me to be your errand boy, I will officially challenge you to a duel with swords and kill you on the field of honor.”

“Your Majesty, I have no desire to demean—to attempt to demean you in any fashion. I freely offer you advantageous information, requesting that you consider our plight. Lisa Meyers desires to slay all those with human DNA. I am attempting to give you knowledge concerning the mobile null region and how to reach it.”

“Clever,” the Emperor said. “Eventually, she or her people might turn this…thing against the Throne World. It would be good to know how to reach it. Very well, I concede your point. How can I learn about the mobile null region?”

“Strand once stole from Ludendorff. He gained this through an alien device, referring to it as the Memnon Zees.”

“That’s it?” the Emperor asked after Maddox fell silent.

“No, Your Majesty. There is considerably more. However, Professor Ludendorff holds that knowledge, and he will not part with it, not even to me.”

“Wring it out of him.”

“I might well do that, Your Majesty. At the moment, I am attempting to use him as a willing ally.”

“Methuselah Men are notorious liars and schemers, Captain. They know nothing about honor. Do you understand honor?”

“I do indeed,” Maddox said.

“Have you lied to me in any way?”

“I have not, Majesty.”

There was silence from the other end.

Maddox waited, wondering if he should have told the full truth in this.

Finally, “I’m not sure I believe you,” the Emperor said.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Your Majesty.”

“Nevertheless, I will have Ural speak to Strand. Perhaps something will come from the conversation. Perhaps I will even deign to relay that data to you. I will first have to consider the advantages and disadvantages of doing so.”

“Sire, I would add one thing.”

“Would you indeed?” the Emperor asked.

“Honor is a noble concept,” Maddox said. “We are related to each other and—”

“I would prefer that you not remind me of that indignity.”

Maddox reconsidered. “I’ve changed my mind, Majesty. I will not add anything more. Thank you for listening to me.”

A sigh came from the other end. “You are a sly rascal, Captain Maddox. I almost approve of you—as a rascal, nothing more, you understand.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Let us see what Strand has to say. Until then, do not call me again.”

With that, the connection ended.

Maddox hung up the microphone and found that his armpits were slick with sweat. He picked up the water bottle, finishing it, wondering what he’d just set in motion.

-35-

Golden Ural had returned to the Throne World since leaving Tortuga and answered his cousin’s summons to the palace. There, the tallest of the New Men leaders listened to the Emperor relate his call with Captain Maddox.

“What do you make of it?” the Emperor asked.

They sat at a round table on a green lawn, with a large table umbrella providing shade from the glorious Sun. The lawn was vast, with masterful marble statues of New Men in striking poses at one edge and a line of tall green and orange trees at the other. A marble and mirrored palace glittered in the distance, while a bevy of the Emperor’s concubines played croquet in the opposite direction near a smooth lake beyond. The concubines wore long finery, white gloves and grand hats, whispering and giggling among themselves, enjoying the game.

The Emperor was tall, although not as tall as his cousin Ural, and was known as the greatest duelist among them. He wore a hat today, shading his long golden face.

“Maddox is cautious,” Ural said. “He doesn’t want to tell us too much.”

“The captain claimed their Methuselah Man would not release more information.”

“That could be true.”

“Would Maddox dare lie to me?” the Emperor asked.

“Without a moment’s hesitation,” Ural said.

The Emperor grunted. “He said he told the truth.”

“Maddox is like us, Sire. He adheres to his own code of ethics and cares little if others approve of it or not. He is driven to excellence, as we have learned in the past.”

The Emperor poured himself a goblet of red wine harvested from his vineyards. He swirled the goblet and sipped, savoring the taste. “Strand is clever and dangerous even for us. Why would he tell you anything?”

“He’s been a prisoner for years already,” Ural said. “Perhaps it has worn down his resolve and made him more amiable.”

“I have seen no evidence of this.”

Ural gazed at the distant lake, making sure that he did not stare at his cousin’s concubines. It would be a grave breach of protocol to evince even the slightest desire or lust for the Emperor’s women. They were, of course, extraordinarily beautiful and vital. He wouldn’t mind—

Ural moved his head, finding the Emperor staring at him.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” the Emperor asked.

“Who is that, Sire?”

The Emperor chuckled, but there was a menacing note in it. “Have a care, cousin. I am still the Emperor.”

“Of that I am quite aware.”

“Is Maddox?”

“Sire?”

“Could Maddox conceive of the idea of attempting to usurp my throne?”

Ural raised his eyebrows. “I have not seen nor heard anything to indicate that. I would like to add that you have my utter backing, Sire.”

The Emperor dipped his head before turning his chair to watch his ladies playing croquet. “I need some relaxation,” he said, standing. “I believe I’ll join them…for a frolic.”

Golden Ural had stood when the Emperor did. “Do I have your permission to go ahead with the inquest, Sire?”

The Emperor tossed his hat onto the table and began to unbutton his shirt. “What’s that?”

“With Strand, Sire, may I question him on the matter?”

The Emperor shrugged off his shirt, laying it on the table. He was lean, golden and muscular. He removed his boots, placing them near the chair and unbuckled his belt next. “Yes, speak to Strand. See what you can discover.”

“Good day then, Sire.”

“Good day, Golden Ural,” the Emperor said, removing his pants and briefs, tossing them onto the table. He strode onto the lawn, heading for his bevy of concubines to have a frolic, as he termed it.

Golden Ural studiously headed in the other direction, believing it would be a breach of protocol to observe his naked cousin break into a run to join the ladies at their game. The Emperor had begun stretching Throne World customs lately…and Ural was not sure why. Had a feeling of unbridled power begun to creep into his cousin’s thinking, and had that begun the slightest unhinging of the Emperor’s behavior?

To ask the question was to have the answer. Ural hurried away, wondering which would be worse for the Throne World: an uninhibited Emperor, or Strand becoming the Throne World’s councilor. Both were potential problems. He couldn’t do anything about the Emperor at the moment. So, determining how to handle this inquiry with Strand was his next issue.

-36-

Golden Ural stepped alone into the prison chamber, the heavy hatch closing behind him. He’d divested himself of all weapons and devices on the off chance Strand had manufactured a new marvel that could overwhelm him.

The Methuselah Man had once ruled the Throne World and the New Men. Unseating Strand had proven difficult. Strand and Ludendorff had started the colony world over a hundred years ago, believing the modified and improved humans would help greater humanity in times of peril. The New Men—seeing themselves as better, smarter, stronger and wiser than the masses of humanity—had decided they should rule instead of serve. That idea hadn’t changed. The timing of it had, though. Star Watch was too strong for now and the Throne World not yet as powerful as it was going to be.

Anyway, that didn’t matter here to Ural. “Strand,” he called. “I’d like a word with you.”

The prison was large, giving the Methuselah Man many rooms and devices to while away his days. He was deadly dangerous, but it was for moments like this that the New Men had let him live. Strand knew so many things no other human did. He was a resource to tap.

A door slammed somewhere deeper in the prison complex. Footfalls neared and an old man muttered as if crazy. Then, a wizened dwarf shuffled into the room. He had hellish embers for eyes and scraggly whiskers. He wore a long black robe like an ancient monk from the Middle Ages, minus a cowl. A cord was wound around his waist.

The wizened Methuselah Man stopped, and the craziness faded from his eyes. “Golden Ural has come to visit me. That is interesting, interesting indeed. Have you dined?”

“Yes,” Ural said, noticing a strong sour odor emanating from Strand.

“I haven’t. So sit, if you wish to speak to me.” Strand shuffled to a small table, pulling out a chair, sitting. He began to extract protein bars from his pockets, along with a small flask that he uncorked. It smelled like whiskey. “Sit, sit,” Strand said, indicating another chair.

Ural came forward, noting that the sweaty dank odor obviously came from Strand. He pulled out a chair, sitting across from the Methuselah Man.

Strand’s eyes swirled as he chuckled. He unwrapped a protein bar, gnawing off a hunk and chewing with his mouth open. “Excellent, most excellent,” Strand said, with crumbs spilling from his mouth. He sipped from the flask, belching afterward and using a sleeve of his robe to wipe his mouth.

“Are you feeling well?” Ural asked.

“Perfectly fine,” Strand said. “Why do you—ask?” He chuckled, biting off another hunk of protein bar, chewing noisily.

Ural watched and began to nod.

Strand eyed him, and he sneered. “What do you think you know about me?”

“That this is an act. How long have you been practicing it?”

“Ask one of the jailors, the observers. I can feel them watching all the time. And yes, it has started to get on my nerves. Why, do you think that shows in how unwell I’m not holding up?”

Ural snorted. “Have you gotten used to your own stench then?”

“Do you mean can I still smell my farts? The answer is yes. They’re not like yours, either, and don’t smell like roses.”

“Bitterness suits you,” Ural said.

“Bah! What can you know about bitterness? You’re living in a fantasyland, serviced by a thousand beauties at the snap of your fingers. You can rut and play all day and then go out and defeat anyone you choose. And do you know why this is?”

“Because we’re better than everyone else,” Ural said.

“That’s one way to say it. The other is that I made you the way you are. In other words, I gave you paradise. I did the heavy lifting. And like most people, you bite the hand that feeds you. This—” Strand raised a hand, gesturing around him— “is the thanks I get. I’m imprisoned in case you ingrates get into trouble and need someone smart to bail you out.”

Ural eyed the nasty little dwarf, wondering how the Methuselah Man had gotten this way.

“Ha-ha! Am I right or am I right?”

“You’re right,” Ural said.

Strand was about to pop the last of the protein bar into his mouth but stopped halfway there. He set the uneaten morsel on the table, pushed it away and picked up the flask. He sipped, swirling the whiskey in his mouth, turned and spat the contents onto the floor. He corked the flask and slipped it into a pocket. “Honesty from Golden Ural: who would have thought it?”

“I surprised you. Well, that’s something at least.”

“It is, it is surprising, at that,” Strand said.

“But to soil your quarters…” Ural said, indicating the spit stain. “That seems to be going too far, even for you.”

“Bah! What do you know about excellence? I know, I know. You’re going to prattle on about being magnificent in your own right. That New Men by their nature always strive for excellence. You would even have a point. But you wouldn’t understand what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“That I’m an artist, and you and your brethren are journeymen at best.”

“What about Professor Ludendorff? What is he?”

“Ludendorff?” asked Strand, laughing. “What does that old charlatan have to do with anything?”

Ural kept himself from nodding. He caught the tightening around Strand’s mouth before the man smoothed it away. The whiskers almost hid it, but not quite. He’d surprised the Methuselah Man again and given him cause for worry. So…it would seem that Ludendorff frightened Strand in ways the New Men could not. Why is that?

“Is Ludendorff an artist like you?” Ural asked.

Strand brayed like a donkey. He gripped the table edge and brayed laughter again. “That old codger, an artist like me? Don’t make me puke. He’s a craftsman at best. But an artist, a genius, even a protégée—never!” Strand said the last with vehemence.

Ural looked down his nose at Strand, pondering the best way to proceed. The little dwarf did have a point. He frightened the Emperor and maybe even frightened him, Ural. The Methuselah Man had been a cruel master to them, but he had given them incredible gifts.

“Why do you ask about the craftsman?” Strand said.

“Eh?” asked Ural. “I’m still trying to understand what you meant earlier about excellence—that we superiors lack it.”

“Acting, you fool,” Strand said. “If you’re going to act—to bluff, if you prefer—then do it one hundred percent. That’s why I soil my quarters: to give it everything, to make my act utterly believable. The problem is that you more than most of your ilk know my mind is like a steel trap. It will be the last thing to crack, to dissolve. You may be stronger, faster and prettier than me, but my mind is like a laser and yours an old-fashioned lantern—unfocused and inefficient. My knowledge is still supreme. I know that’s why you’re here, as there is no other logical reason. Now, you bring up that patsy Ludendorff. What did the fool tell you?”

Eager, Ural realized. Strand is eager for the information. The Methuselah Man must be bored out of his gourd. He was likely going stir-crazy. Maybe Strand had even lost hope. That gave Ural hope that he could wheedle something important from him.

Strand grunted, folding his arms across his scrawny chest. He lowered his head, peering at Ural with those hellish orbs. “I’m waiting. If you think you have greater patience than me, then think again.”

“I have a phrase for you,” Ural said. “Are you ready for it?”

Strand merely grunted.

“Memnon Zees,” Ural said.

It took a second. Then Strand’s head straightened, and his eyes widened. He didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t surprised but whistled between his teeth. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Isn’t that interesting? Yes, interesting indeed. Memnon Zees, is it? I haven’t heard that for a long, long time.”

“Clearly, you know what Ludendorff means by it.”

“Clearly,” Strand said.

“What does it mean?” Ural asked.

Strand laughed, shaking his head. “You can do better than that.”

Ural debated with himself. “Do you mind if I tell you a story first?”

“Talk all you want. I ain’t going nowhere.”

Ural nodded, and he told Strand about the mobile null region that spewed asteroids at Olmstead, smashing the planet to pieces.

During the telling, Strand’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded several times as if confirming a suspicion.

At last, Ural finished the tale, and waited.

Strand was slouched in his chair, chewing on his lower lip. He asked slowly, “So who controls this fabled mobile null region?”

“Star Watch believes Lisa Meyers or her people control it.”

“By Star Watch you mean that bastard Maddox, don’t you?”

“I do,” Ural said.

“Why would Meyers or her people be launching asteroids at populated planets?”

Ural told him about Meyers’ manifesto and how she wished to cleanse the universe of all humanity.

“I’ll give her this,” Strand said with admiration, “the bitch has class. She’s a loon, but she has style in spades. She’s dangerous, of course. That she’s wielding the mobile null region as she is points to considerable knowledge. I didn’t think the she-witch had it in her.”

“I think the Yon-Soth ray has corrupted her thinking,” Ural said.

“Yon-Soth, oh, well, you’re full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

“I thought that might get your attention.”

“Indeed, indeed. Now I need to hear more.”

“Certainly,” Ural said. “First, I want to know what ‘Memnon Zees’ means.”

Strand inhaled deeply through his nostrils, exhaling through his mouth.

Ural kept his features frozen even as the foul breath washed over his face.

“It can mean several things,” Strand said slowly. “One of them means a draining and stealing of memories.”

“And?”

“And that’s it for now. Tell me more.”

“I need some incentive to do that,” Ural said.

“You want my help, right?”

Ural nodded.

“Well, if you don’t continue talking, you don’t get my help. How’s that for incentive?”

Ural stood, dipped his head and turned around, heading for the hatch. Strand did not call out. Ural reached the hatch and pounded on it with a fist. Seconds later, it opened. Ural did not bother to turn around and tell the Methuselah Man this was his last chance. Instead, he strode through the opening.

Strand began laughing.

Ural stopped, turning around.

Strand pointed at him. “Nice. I’d even go so far to say that it smacks of excellence. That’s what I mean by a one hundred percent performance. You’re really leaving. You’re going all the way. I like that. Now, why don’t you tell me more, and then I’ll tell you what I can tell you.”

Ural hesitated. “No. You speak first.”

“Look,” Strand said. “It’s obvious you want me to tell you how to reach the mobile null region. Clearly, the bitch is going to stone Earth. Maddox wants to stop her. However, he can’t do that if he can’t find the mobile null region and get into it. I doubt he could stop her once he reaches the interior world—oops,” Strand said, tittering as if he was indeed crazy. “I let that one out of the bag, didn’t I?”

“Excellence,” Ural forced himself to say.

Strand blinked several times, finally smiling. “That’s right. It was an act. I almost fooled you with it, too. Now come on back in. Let’s finish the talk.”

Ural returned to the prison chamber, the heavy hatch closing behind him. He sat back down at the table. “There’s more to Memnon Zees, isn’t there?”

“Much more,” Strand said in an evil tone. “How did you learn about it?”

“Ludendorff told Maddox, who told the Emperor via a long-range Builder comm.”

“Huh,” Strand said. “So, after all this time, Ludendorff finally remembered. That’s interesting in and of itself. And that means…” His voice drifted away as a grim light seemed to shine in his strange eyes.

Ural felt a moment of fear, and that was odd. What was this bitter ugly creature going to suggest that could cause fear?

“I’ll tell you about the mobile null region,” Strand said, “how to detect it from our universe and how to penetrate through onto the other side. First, you tell me what I’ll get in return. If it’s good enough, I’ll agree. If it isn’t, I’ll suggest you keep offering until I find something I like.”

“This is the big one, isn’t it?” Ural said. “This is what you’ve been waiting for.”

“Could be,” Strand said.

What Ural hated was that a real calm was settling over Strand. He didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t like it. “I’ll have to speak to the Emperor again.”

“You do that,” Strand said. “But remember, you might not want to wait too long, if you know what I mean.”

Ural stood once again. Then he turned, wondering if this was it felt like making the proverbial deal with the devil.

-37-

As Golden Ural spoke to Strand on the Throne World, far away in the Solar System a situation began that would have far-reaching consequences.

It occurred in the Oort cloud roughly 3,000 AUs from Earth, far beyond the orbit of Pluto. An AU was approximately 150,000,000 kilometers, the mean distance from the center of the Sun to the center of the Earth.

The Oort cloud contained a mass of predominantly icy planetesimals that surrounded the Sun from distances ranging 2,000 to 200,000 AUs. There were also dwarf planets, comets in abundance and even some asteroids.

No one belonging to Star Watch observed the present situation. Interestingly, there were asteroids missing from this region, small ones compared to those in the 82 G. Eridani System, but gone from their expected locations nevertheless.

An odd electromagnetic shift occurred, which produced wavering in the very fabric of space-time. The wavering did not last long, but long enough that an icy planetesimal five kilometers by seven and a half by seven and a half appeared. The planetesimal was a dirty white in color and contained stony debris, and moved at 75,000 kilometers per second, or one-quarter the speed of light. It flashed in-system on a collision course with Earth—or where Earth would be in nearly 70 days.

The faster-than-a-speeding-bullet planetesimal would take 2,000 seconds, or 33.3 minutes, to travel one AU. Since it had 3,000 AUs to cross, that mandated the almost-70 days of flight.

More wavering in space-time happened, and a larger rock or a tiny asteroid appeared. It also rushed in-system toward Earth at 75,000 kilometers per second.

Afterward, disruptions to the fabric of space-time ceased.

Hours fled. A day, two days and finally four days after launching, an outer Patrol vessel discovered the fast-traveling icy planetesimal. The ship’s captain sent a flash message to Pluto, which took time, but the message caused a stir among those manning the Long-Range Builder Scanner. At the orders from the Lord High Admiral, the observers turned the scanner upon the Oort cloud. They found the two speeding objects, but no sign of what had launched them.

Cook studied the data at his headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland Sector on Earth, spoke with his team, and then ordered a flotilla of Conqueror-class battleships into action. They used a star-drive jump, maneuvering into place in the Oort cloud before the icy planetesimal and the following small asteroid.

The battleships launched a flock of nuclear-tipped missiles. Without any trouble, the missiles reached the designated point and detonated on schedule. The icy planetesimal blasted apart from the nuclear fire, part of the body consumed in the heat. The other particles dispersed as they continued their journey toward the general vicinity of Earth.

The battleships anticipated the debris, beaming the particles with a vengeance, devouring the icy pieces until there was nothing left.

The battleship captains conferred via their comms, the commanding commodore gave her orders, and the battleships used their star-drive jump to maneuver ahead of the other small asteroid. They began a similar operation, soon blasting and partly devouring the mass of ores and stone with nuclear firepower. The beaming of the particles took longer, but by their timely actions, the battleships saved Earth from the nefariously launched objects.

Star Watch personnel inside Pluto continued careful scanning in order to find the source of the attack, soon discovering a strange electromagnetic disruption to the fabric of space-time. The disruption occurred 2,972 AUs from Earth, closer than the earlier launchings, although those in Pluto did not know that. The Star Watch team on Long-Range Builder Scanner operations observed a Bismarck-class battleship slide into space-time near the disruption. A fast scan showed it was the missing Battleship Koniggratz from the 82 G. Eridani System.

Someone aboard the Koniggratz sent messages and then launched a buoy. Soon thereafter, another disruption to the fabric of space-time occurred as the Koniggratz slid out of existence at that location, disappearing from sight.

In due course, a Star Watch vessel received the transmitted verbal message apparently from someone named Surbus. He stood proudly on the bridge of the Koniggratz, wearing Merovingian armor and holding a Greek-like hoplite helmet in the crook of his thickly muscled arm. Instead of a horsehair crest, a nest of antennae sprouted from the helmet’s top. He had a bald shiny head, cruel and rather heavy features and a dense neck with sloping shoulders. He was clearly a Bosk, a big man with black eyes. He stared into the screen, speaking deliberately.

“I am Surbus, and I have the ability to destroy the Earth. The icy planetesimal and small asteroid were merely demonstrations. They were sent on an intercept course with Earth, and would have caused terrible destruction upon impact. However, they were small and distant. I will use much larger and closer objects if you do not meet my demands. Surely, by now, you know that the planet Olmstead no longer exists. I destroyed it. I also picked up this nifty battleship, formerly known to you as the Koniggratz.

“Have I renamed the vessel? Not at this time,” Surbus said with a sneer. “Have I captured or slain the crew? Yes, in unequal parts. Some live to serve me. Some died most gruesomely. The truth is that I have so much to do and so little time to do it in. You of Earth have terrorized Jarnevon and its people for too long. I seek revenge for what you have done. And yet, I have asked myself, what happens after I have wreaked havoc upon the Earthlings? Might I not find a better purpose for the ultimate weapon?”

Surbus smiled, showing thick teeth. “I can destroy any planet in the Commonwealth.” He raised his free arm and snapped his strong fingers. “Like that, a planet is dust, its people no more. I have the power. What would you give me, what would you pay, to prevent that from happening, eh?”

Surbus stared at the screen. “This is an ancient weapon, Builder-made and now Bosk-run.” He scowled and glanced to the side as a nearly inaudible voice spoke. He seemed to listen and finally sighed, facing the screen once more.

“Fellow Bosks are in the crew, but we are Merovingians and serve the great Queen, she named Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. For the moment, the Queen is elsewhere, and thus you deal with me, Surbus, her powerful lieutenant and present owner of the annihilating weapon of old.”

There was more nearly inaudible speech from the side, and the scowl on Surbus’s face was thunderous. “Excuse me,” he said into the screen.

Surbus turned to the right as he drew a sidearm and fired three times. There were three separate thuds. Surbus smirked, nodded, perhaps to himself, and holstered his blaster. He faced the screen again.

“Now…where was I? Oh, yes, I am Surbus. I control the ultimate weapon. Lisa Meyers is elsewhere, and I rule here. I rule as I please and do what I want. You of Earth must ask yourself, ‘How can I please the great Surbus so he does not smash our lovely green-and-blue planet?’ I am a Bosk and remember all too well the grave indignities you of Earth have heaped upon those of my kind. Therefore, it will take much to stay my wrath. Yet, I am not insane like Lisa Meyers. I will let you buy off my wrath if the price is right. Think well how you respond to me, as I may not make a second offer. I will reappear at my choosing in a place you will never expect. Be prompt, Earthlings, or you will lose your world forever. I, Surbus, have spoken.”

Thereupon, the transmission ended, although the buoy would continue to send that message for as long as it had power.

-38-

Dag the Merovingian Champion hurried down a hauler corridor. The Queen had summoned him over the ship’s intercom system, and she’d sounded furious. Dag wondered if one of the soldiers had set him up with false reports. The soldiers did not like him—

Dag’s brutish head lifted. Could Tobias have engineered a coup against him? He knew the former Champion hated him, although Tobias worked overtime these days, acting meekly. If Tobias had done this—

“No,” Dag whispered. “That can’t be it.” His best friends in the Merovingians watched Tobias at all times. Dag had instituted the watch as he shifted loyalty in the corps back to the Queen as she’d instructed. Why, then, was she furious?

Dag rounded a corner and came upon a squad of soldiers with blasters in their hands. Each blaster came up and targeted his chest.

“I’m here to see the Queen,” Dag said.

The lieutenant in charge of the squad spoke a word to the others. They lowered their blasters, although they did not holster them. The others parted, moving aside, making a lane.

Dag took it. The lieutenant dipped his head in greeting and tapped on the hatch. It opened.

“Go in,” the lieutenant said. “The Queen is waiting for you.”

Dag ducked his head because he was too tall to enter the hatch otherwise. His Merovingian armor rattled and clanked.

The hatch slid shut behind him, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Soon, he saw the Queen before a console and screen—she had her back to him. She wore a tightfitting uniform and cap and seemed absorbed by whatever was on the screen.

Dag cleared his throat.

The Queen straightened and swiveled around in her seat. She appeared angry. “Dag, why are you here—oh, I summoned you. That’s right.”

Dag waited.

“Approach,” she said.

He started forward.

“You should know that lasers are tracking your every move,” she said. “One word from me, and they will cut you down.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

Her nostrils flared as she eyed him closely. She sighed a second later, nodding. “I distrust everyone it seems. But you’re loyal to me, aren’t you, Dag?”

“To the bone,” Dag said, having come up with the phrase himself.

That brought a smile to her lips. She was intoxicatingly beautiful, even if she was frightening like a vampire.

“Observe the braggart,” she said, swiveling back to the screen, pointing at an armored man.

Dag moved to the side so he wouldn’t be standing directly behind her, as he was sure she would not care for that. On the screen, he saw a Bosk, a thickset man wearing Merovingian armor. The Bosk’s mouth moved, but no sound came.

“He’s the usurper you’re going to take down,” she said.

Dag did not understand, but he didn’t say that. He waited for her to explain further.

After a time, she looked up at him. “He controls an ancient weapon, one I found…” She cocked her head, frowning. “I can’t quite remember how I found it. Isn’t that strange?”

“A gift from the gods,” Dag said.

Her frown shifted focus from inward to him. “Do you believe in gods?”

Dag opened his mouth before hesitating to speak. It wasn’t the kind of question he expected. In fact, he’d never considered it before this. There was a memory of a faint time when he’d been a banking president. Had he thought about such questions then? He did not think so.

“I’m waiting,” she said.

“Is this important, O Queen?”

“I’ve asked it. Now, I expect an answer.”

“The answer is that I don’t know.”

“Then why say the ultimate weapon is from the gods?”

“I don’t know, O Queen. A poetic phrase, I suppose.”

“Then let me set you straight,” she said sarcastically. “It most certainly wasn’t a gift from the gods. It was something else, certainly not from any supernatural pantheon. I do not believe in gods, as such.”

Dag remained silent.

“Do you disagree?” she demanded.

“I do not disagree with you, O Queen.”

“So, you do or don’t believe in gods?”

Dag shifted uneasily. “I believe that you don’t believe in them.”

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“No, my Queen.”

She massaged the side of her head as if it pained her. She did that for a time before speaking abruptly: “I learned about the mobile null region… Are you familiar with the term?”

“I am not.”

She blinked several times, massaged the side of her head and said, “After escaping from Jupiter’s depths—I first escaped Earth and raced to the gas giant, with Maddox in hot pursuit—I took a long journey. It was a dangerous quest, propelled by secret wisdom I don’t remember acquiring. I used an exotic maneuver to reach the null region. That meant I endured more risks. Surbus was with me then, a dull brave soldier who never lost heart. I thought I could trust him to do a simple duty for his Queen.”

“Surbus is the Bosk on the screen?”

“Yes,” she said. “And I may have misjudged him. In truth, his task wasn’t so simple. He has run one of the most advanced items of tech in existence, and he has done so professionally. Now, though, it appears that he has become greedy and ambitious. He might not have been as dull as self-advertised. The realm he operates in is highly dangerous, with many pitfalls for the unwary.”

“Are you implying that is why my Merovingians endured the hellish simulations?”

The Queen studied him.

“I mean your Merovingians,” Dag amended.

“The hellish simulations were to ready my Merovingian corps for that weird realm. You are correct in that, as you are my answer to Surbus. If you take his path, however, I will have an answer for you. Do you understand me?”

“I am loyal to my Queen.”

“In my presence, you are. Will you remain loyal once you control the mobile null region?”

“Yes!”

She eyed him critically. “Surbus might kill you instead. That would be unfortunate, as he would likely usurp your Merovingians, pulling them into his service as he has clearly drawn some of the battleship’s crew.”

“No, O Queen. All the Merovingians are loyal to you.”

“Humph,” she said, turning back to the screen, staring at the silently speaking Surbus, the thick-necked Bosk. “You will not go alone,” she said while staring at the silent talker. “Soldiers will run your ships and help to insert you and the Merovingians onto the control world.”

Dag listened in silence, not liking the part about added soldiers in the expedition.

“I doubt the soldiers will survive in orbit for long,” she said, “but I’m going to order them to try. It is conceivable that Maddox or the New Men will stumble upon a method for entering the null region. Surbus is making it easier for them. Yes, that could be another way. If they could capture the fool’s new battleship, they could force Surbus to take them in. I’m hoping the treacherous cur is smarter than that.”

Dag listened in silence.

She looked up at him. “It is a huge world, a heavy one. Surbus’s people will have grown accustomed to the awful gravity. That is why I can only send Merovingians. You must storm the palace—”

“I have run through the simulations, O Queen.”

She stared at him. “You interrupted me.”

“I crave your pardon, O Queen.”

She did not give it. Instead, she glanced at a chronometer, and sighed. “We’ll be in position to launch soon. Do you have any last questions?”

“No, O Queen.”

“There are no gods,” she said robotically, “so do not pray to them. Rely on your own strength and genius. I have amply given you both.”

“I am grateful, as you know.”

“Prove it to me, Dag. Show me that some humans are not contemptible.”

He straightened and saluted.

She smiled before pressing a button. “Listen to this boaster, and remember, that he once gave me similar assurances. Do not be like him, but crush him, Dag. Crush his head between your hands. As he howls for mercy, tell him Lisa Meyers always wins in the end.”

“Yes, O Queen. It shall be done.”

She laughed as on-screen Surbus boasted about the ultimate weapon and how he was master of the situation.

-39-

Captain Maddox held a briefing aboard Victory, summoning Professor Ludendorff, Galyan, Meta, Andros, Valerie, Riker and Kris Guderian to the conference chamber.

The starship had been steadily heading for the Solar System, which was a mere twenty light-years from the 82 G. Eridani System.

In the conference chamber, Maddox ordered Galyan to show the others the recording of the asteroid attack and the Star Watch battleships responding. Afterward, Galyan played Surbus’s message upon the screen.

“It has begun,” Ludendorff said after the screen went blank. “The mobile null region has maneuvered into position and fired a shot across the bow, as the old saying goes. We’re fortunate the Bosk turned traitor to make his own play and not that of Lisa Meyers.”

“You believe Surbus is genuine in what he says?” Maddox asked.

“I know, I know,” Ludendorff said. “You expect others to act like you, to misdirect, to fake before a lunge. Surbus isn’t doing that, though. I know because I’m familiar with the Bosks and their customs.”

“Can you elaborate?” Maddox asked.

“It’s simple. The Bosks are an aggressive, direct people. We learned that when the Liss cybers used Bosks as shock troopers. I’m surprised Meyers trusted Surbus with the null region. That isn’t like her.”

“Perhaps she had no choice,” Valerie said.

“I doubt that’s true,” Ludendorff said. “Meyers is cunning, and she’s usually a good judge of character or has secondary people watching those she leaves in charge.”

“Maybe that was before the Yon-Soth ray fiddled with her mind,” Maddox said. “Devilish thinking has a way of unbalancing a person’s outlook.”

Ludendorff made a face. “I have as yet seen no evidence of such a change in Meyers.”

“So Surbus is genuine beyond a doubt?” asked Maddox.

“I wouldn’t say it like that,” Ludendorff declared. “I’m…ninety percent certain he’s exactly what he claims to be. But let’s put the shoe on the other foot. How would it help Meyers for us to think Surbus is on his own?”

“That’s elementary,” Maddox said. “Surbus wants Star Watch to buy him off. He declared as much. If High Command believes that, it could lull them into making a bad move.”

“I see. When you spoke to them last, did the representative of High Command sound lulled to you?”

“No…”

“There you have it,” Ludendorff said. “We should proceed on the assumption that Surbus has become his own man, a free agent.”

Maddox thought about that, seeing a new possibility. “I wonder if we can bribe Surbus into giving us the null region.”

Ludendorff stared at Maddox. “You can’t be serious? Or is this the Lord High Admiral’s question?”

“I’m asking it.”

“No,” Ludendorff said. “If we want the null region, we’ll have to get it the hard way, by taking it from Surbus. He’s not really interested in money or loot—he just likes the power he has, and he won’t give that up.”

Maddox glanced at the others. “Any ideas on how we can take it?”

None of the others spoke.

Maddox drummed his fingers on the table. “I’ve spoken to Golden Ural. Strand gave him a few tidbits concerning the null region.”

Ludendorff slapped the table. “Then why are you asking us? Out with it, my boy. What did the thief have to say?”

“As you surmised,” Maddox said, “a method for slipping into the null region.”

“That ends the debate. Let’s go. Let’s get it done.”

“Trust Strand implicitly?” asked Maddox. “I think not. We must first decide if Strand told Ural the truth.”

“Well, what did Ural tell you about their meeting?”

Maddox glanced at Galyan before regarding the professor.

“Wait a minute,” Ludendorff said. “Did Galyan get to listen in to the call?”

Maddox nodded.

“You should have included me too,” Ludendorff said. “I could have asked a few revealing questions.”

“There was no time.”

“That was a mistake. I could have told you if Strand had given the New Man a cock-and-bull story or not.”

“You can still tell me that,” Maddox said. “I’ll give you the essence of what Strand said.”

“But sir,” Galyan said. “I can repeat the message verbatim, or I could play it back if you wish.”

“An excellent idea,” Ludendorff said.

“Sorry, but no,” Maddox said. “I would have to clear that with the Lord High Admiral.”

“Since when did you become such a rules stickler?”

Maddox frowned, annoyed with the professor and Galyan. “We will proceed. According to Strand—”

“Secondhand Strand hearsay,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “It was what Ural told you Strand said, not necessarily what Strand actually said.”

Maddox drummed his fingers on the table.

“Get on with it if it’s such a big deal,” Ludendorff said in a huff.

Maddox continued to drum his fingers.

“If you do not care to speak, sir, I can give the gist of it,” Galyan told Maddox.

“No…” Maddox said. “Here’s the pertinent information. The mobile null region is similar to the one we’ve been in before. It’s dark, sucks energy and is difficult to enter or leave. This one has a huge world in the center. According to Strand, the control mechanism lies on the world.”

“‘Huge world’ means what in this instance?” asked Ludendorff.

“One point eight times Earth normal gravity,” Maddox said.

“Hmm,” Ludendorff said quietly. “One point eight G means a man—or woman—would weigh nearly twice as much as normal. That means most people would drag on such a high-gravity world.”

“Agreed,” Maddox said.

“That means we only have two people who could reasonably go,” Ludendorff said, “You and Meta.”

Maddox glanced at his wife before saying, “I’m disinclined to include Meta on such a dangerous mission.”

“Nonsense, my boy,” Ludendorff said. “I recall that she hauled your ass out of danger against the Yon-Soth in the Carina-Sagittarius Spiral Arm when—”

“Professor—”

“Now see here,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “There’s no point arguing about an insertion team at this juncture anyway. What else did you learn about the mobile null region?”

Maddox exhaled, stood and began walking around the table. The others watched him, Ludendorff most of all. The captain walked behind the professor and put a hand between his neck and right shoulder.

“Eh, now,” Ludendorff said. “What are you up to?”

Maddox squeezed.

Ludendorff stiffened in obvious pain.

Maddox squeezed just a moment longer before letting go. He continued around the table.

Ludendorff rubbed the bruised area. “What in the hell do you think—?”

“Professor,” Maddox said, interrupting.

Ludendorff quit speaking.

“Better, much better,” Maddox said.

“If you think—”

“Decorum,” Maddox said, interrupting once more. “That is the watchword.”

“He’s telling you not to interrupt him or to speak to him as if you’re in charge,” Riker said from across the table. “That can’t be too hard to understand, Professor.”

Ludendorff scowled and crossed his arms, hunching in his seat.

Maddox continued around the table, patting Riker on the shoulder as he passed, resuming his place at the head of the table. “The mobile null region has a control world and a giant world-sized ring somewhere nearby. Strand did not go into detail, but the ring can…strip inertia from an object.”

Ludendorff was still scowling with his arms crossed.

“Oh!” Kris Guderian said. “That explains a lot. If one could strip inertia from an asteroid—wouldn’t that still take tremendous energy to accelerate to one-quarter light-speed?”

“Yes, yes,” Ludendorff said. “Still, an inertialess drive…I never knew the Builders had developed such a thing. It boggles the mind. Why would they have held it secret all this time?”

Riker cleared his throat and looked around the table. “If someone wouldn’t mind explaining, just what is an inertialess drive?”

Ludendorff’s scowl returned. “I have no idea why this dimwitted sergeant is present.”

“Oh, I can explain that,” Riker said promptly. “It’s called common sense. Besides Meta and possibly Valerie, I’m the only one here who has any.”

“Bah!” Ludendorff said. “I’ve more common sense in my little finger than you have in your—”

“Sergeant Riker is here because he has faced Lisa Meyers’ servants more successfully than the rest of us,” Maddox said. “Riker, with his prosaic outlook, might see something the rest of us miss.”

Ludendorff shrugged moodily and went back to scowling at the table.

“To answer your question, Riker,” Galyan said, “inertia is the resistance of any physical object to any change in its velocity. Thus, inertialess means a lack of resistance. That would mean a great body like an asteroid would have zero resistance to a change in its velocity. It would be like pushing light, as it were. I imagine the asteroid or object would regain its inertia once leaving the null region. That resumed inertia, along with the asteroidal mass, destroyed the planet Olmstead. And notice here in the Oort cloud that the icy planetesimal particles did not immediately blow backward from the nuclear blasts because they were inertialess, but had inertia and thus resisted change to their velocity.”

“Oh,” Riker said. “I understand. Thanks, Galyan.”

“You are welcome, Riker.”

Maddox was nodding. “To return to what we know about the null region, Strand suggested that the massive interior world has its own power source. He believes the Builders long ago tapped the core and it is the reason people can remain in the null region and survive on the planet. I imagine Surbus and those with him leave the world to do whatever they do to the ring or they can control the ring from somewhere on the world.”

Ludendorff looked up, almost spoke out and then waited.

“Yes, Professor?” Maddox said. “You have a point?”

“Strand didn’t say anything in that regard?”

“I don’t understand.”

“How people activate the Inertia Ring.”

“Oh. According to Ural, Strand was evasive on the subject.”

“Sir?” Galyan asked. “May I add a word?”

Maddox nodded.

“During the call,” Galyan said, “Golden Ural warned the captain that in his opinion Strand explained just enough to get anyone who goes into the mobile null region killed.”

“Yes…” Ludendorff said. “Strand must realize you’ll go—we all will go—and he hopes to murder us that way and gain his revenge.”

Riker cleared his throat.

Maddox pointed at him.

“Begging your pardon, sir,” Riker said. “I know this isn’t germane to the project, but my curiosity is killing me. What did Ural give Strand that enticed the Methuselah Man into telling him all this?”

“That’s an excellent question,” Maddox said. “I asked my uncle exactly that. Ural told me to mind my own business.”

“Ha-ha!” Ludendorff cried. “Good for him. I like it. I seriously like it.”

“Your uncle wouldn’t tell you, sir?” asked Riker.

“No,” Maddox said.

“As your sergeant said earlier,” Ludendorff laughed, with some of his good humor restored, “that wasn’t germane to the issue. What I have to ask is: do we have a method for entering the null region?”

“According to Ural we do,” Maddox said.

The professor rubbed his jaw, nodding shortly and looking up. “If it’s not too much to ask, what’s the plan?”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

“What?”

“That is why we are here, Professor,” Galyan said. “The captain desires that we brainstorm the winning strategy.”

Ludendorff glanced at Maddox.

Maddox nodded.

“I see,” Ludendorff said. “So besides pinching my neck, it’s all back to me, eh? You want the scientist to pull your chestnuts out of the fire for you. Well, the easiest solution would be to lead a squadron of battleships into the null region and destroy the Inertialess Ring.”

“It is a null region,” Galyan said. “You would need plenty of photon suits for the battleship personnel.”

“We know how to make those,” Ludendorff said with a snap of his fingers. “It’s just a matter of making enough and distributing them. Of course, going in means destroying yet another priceless piece of Builder technology. Are we sure we want to do that?”

“No!” Kris said in alarm. “Can I be the only one who sees it?”

“Sees what?” Ludendorff scoffed.

“What you just suggested is the obvious solution,” Kris said, glancing at the others. “That surely means Strand wants Star Watch to try to destroy the ring with massed warships. And that means there would likely be some mechanism for defending the ring from warships.”

“Or…” Maddox said, “a mechanism to capture battleships. Notice that this Surbus had the Koniggratz.”

“Exactly,” Kris said. “I should have already seen that. Strand is…” She shuddered. “He’s crafty, much more than anyone else I’ve ever met.”

“Bah!” Ludendorff said. “Strand is a thief, a competent one, I suppose. But don’t credit him with great craftiness. Besides, lowbrow cunning is highly overrated.” Ludendorff glared at Maddox.

Maddox smiled faintly. “Lowbrow or not, I suggest that Commander Guderian has a point. Strand might be up to his old tricks, using Golden Ural as an unwitting intermediary. Perhaps Strand wishes to lure Star Watch into a compromising position. Unless one of you has a better idea, I plan to take Victory into the mobile null region and see what we can discover. If we can capture the world or destroy the ring immediately, so much the better. If we have to flee to report back with our findings for a second step, so be it.”

“And if this is a trap?” asked Ludendorff.

“Then we’ll follow the second step as I just outlined and escape,” Maddox said. “We shall then report to the Lord High Admiral. With the fate of the Earth in the balance, I don’t see we have any other alternative but to go in and look around.”

“We could insert a small team instead,” Ludendorff said.

“Too dangerous and uncertain until we know more,” Maddox said. “What else?”

Everyone glanced at one another. Finally, Maddox eyed the professor.

“I gave you my opinion,” Ludendorff said curtly.

Maddox stood as he studied his team. “Let’s prepare. Professor, how many photon suits can you ready?”

“How long until we attempt this?” Ludendorff asked.

“How long until we’re near the location of the last asteroid launching?” Maddox asked Valerie.

She glanced at a screen. “Eight and a half hours, sir.”

“There you have it,” Maddox told Ludendorff.

“Ten suits,” Ludendorff said.

“That should be enough.”

Ludendorff sighed, climbed to his feet and turned to Maddox. “With your permission, I’d like to take Andros and get started.”

“Go,” Maddox said. “And good luck to the both of you.”

-40-

Nine hours later, Victory was in position in the Solar System’s inner Oort cloud, 2,773 AUs from Earth. Andros sat at the bridge’s science station in a bulky photon suit. “I have it, sir,” he told Maddox via a helmet comm.

“You’re detecting the mobile null region?” Maddox asked from his chair. He, too, wore a bulky photon suit.

“I recalibrated the sensors per Galyan’s instructions,” Andros said. “This is like nothing I’ve seen before. I’d say it’s the null region or indicates the null region.”

“Indeed so,” Ludendorff said. The Methuselah Man also wore a photon suit and was linked to the helmet comms. He stood near the command chair. “You’re not actually detecting the null region, just the minute fluctuations as it affects our time and space. It is similar to a submarine cruising deep underwater and the tiny motions rippling upon the surface show its presence to the ultra-observant.”

“The null region is…under our universe?” Maddox asked.

“That is a poor way to say it,” Ludendorff replied. “But it’s the best I can do under the circumstances. The two universes are aligned in a way I cannot precisely explain to the scientifically uninitiated.”

Maddox scanned the bridge, the personnel wearing the bulky white photon suits that would allow them to act normally once they reached the null realm. “We’ve done this before, people. Now, we’re going to risk it again. I expect a warm reception once we make our move. So, let’s be on our toes. Mr. Maker, are you ready?”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

“Do we really and truly trust Strand’s information?” Ludendorff asked.

Maddox glanced at the suited Methuselah Man. The question was pregnant with terrible threat. If they didn’t try this, though, they would have to accede to Surbus’s demands, which would likely grow outrageously. Or they would have to capture his vessel when it reappeared, a dubious prospect at best.

“It would appear that Meyers once made it to the null region,” Maddox said. “Let’s remember that. If she can do it, we can do it.”

“Famous last words,” Ludendorff muttered.

“Professor, this is a time for optimism. I would appreciate it if you remembered that.”

“You surprise me, my boy. I would have thought you’d get off your chair to cuff me on the back of the helmet.”

“If you prefer it that way,” Maddox said, rising.

“Never mind,” Ludendorff said, as he backed away from the captain. “You’re far too literal and as usual, fail to appreciate a comment made in jest.”

Maddox grinned within his helmet as he resumed his seat. This was incredibly risky, and the professor was right, Strand could be tricking them. What could he do to increase their odds? The grin evaporated as Maddox bowed his head. “Dear God, please help us reach the null region. Amen.”

“Amen, sir,” Galyan said.

Keith manipulated his panel, and the antimatter engines began to hum and thrum with power. The double-oval starship did not move, but remained in place as the entire outer hull began to quiver. The quivering became shaking.

On the bridge, everything shook as well. Maddox held onto his armrests. They were utilizing the procedure as outlined by Strand via Golden Ural. They were taking a lot on trust, on faith in a bad man’s words.

This is a harebrained scheme, Maddox realized.

“We’re mad!” Ludendorff shouted. “This will likely never work.”

“Switching to overdrive,” Keith said. With his gloved fingers, he manipulated his board.

The shaking worsened and the antimatter engine sounds whined throughout the great Adok vessel.

“I’m detecting a change,” Valerie said from her station. She, too, wore a photon suit.

“Does it align?” Maddox shouted.

“Almost,” Valerie said.

“We’ll go with almost,” Maddox said. “Whenever you’re ready Mr. Maker.”

“Overdrive buildup,” Keith said. “Hang on. This could be bad.”

The whine became intolerable. Each of the suited personnel clapped gloved hands over their helmeted heads. Galyan disappeared in a wink of light that faded away.

“I don’t like this, my boy,” Ludendorff muttered.

“If you’re ready, Mate,” Keith said.

“Do it,” Maddox said. “Let’s do it.”

“Now,” Keith said, as he slapped his console.

The whine and shaking intensified as the starship leaped toward the disturbance ahead of them in space-time. The great double-oval vessel did not slide into a different realm, as there was no new opening. Instead, it seemed as if the forward hull of the starship pushed against the very fabric of space-time. The ancient warship strained, pushing more of the ethereal, yet very real, space-time substance. In that second, it seemed as if Victory stretched reality, trying to break through to the other side.

“It’s not supposed to do this,” Ludendorff said. “Sheer off, my boy. Sheer off before we’re all destroyed.”

Maddox had leaned forward on his seat, peering at the main screen. It showed the fabric of reality stretching, and that was nonsense. How could such a thing—

Victory moved abruptly. It smashed through as a rip appeared. The vessel wriggled through the opening as intense darkness like ink spilled out. The shaking and engine whining lessened as the starship forced itself into somewhere that wasn’t normal.

“We’re doing it!” Keith shouted. “We’re heading—”

Blackness descended upon the starship as a similar blackness invaded the bridge. Whatever Keith said, no one else heard, least of all Maddox. The great vessel plunged into darkness and the tear behind it snapped shut.

At that point, Maddox’s perceptions faded away, and then his consciousness fled his body. Did that happen to the others as well? Everything on the starship was pitch-black.

-41-

The inky darkness seemed to penetrate more than just the ship. It throbbed intensely inside Maddox. What it did to the others, he had no idea. He wasn’t fully conscious himself. The throb seemed to force the pitch-blackness deeper and deeper into his mind and thoughts. It was a suffocating thing, deadening him, canceling out—

A spark of light illuminated the captain’s personality somewhere deep in his id or self-identity. Did that come from himself or was it a part of the stolen Erill spiritual energy?

Who am I?

The throb of darkness rushed upon the silent question. It attempted to smother it, bury it in darkness.

The light flickered against the bleak nullity of darkness. It was cold, mind-numbing as it was meant to be.

Who am I?

The question was insistent, demanding an answer. Could the darkness yield to it?

What darkness?

The darkness around the spark of light in the id of Captain Maddox thickened like gel.

No!

The thickening gel started to harden around the dying light, the mere ember of thought.

I am…

The hardening moved like a black iceberg at the ember, attempting to roll over it. The black iceberg inched nearer, nearer, and it slid over the ember, seemingly extinguishing it.

I am Captain Maddox—a wail of thought. But it was enough. The ember burned through the hardened darkness to glow with power and then it danced into a flickering light once again. I refuse to quit. I refuse defeat.

The blackness reared up as if it would avalanche upon the puny flickering boastful light.

Ah. You attempt to defeat me. That indicates desire, which indicates intelligence. Who are you, foe? Why do you fear me?

The blackness retreated from the question as if it hated…hated what exactly?

What happened to me?

With the interior question, Maddox grew aware of what had happened. The starship had attempted to enter the mobile null region. They had followed the directions as given by Strand to Golden Ural. Did that mean the crew had fallen for a Strand trap?

In his id, Maddox sighed with frustration. Methuselah Man Strand hated him. He should. Maddox had punched the old man’s lights out before.

I will again, when I catch him.

The idea comforted the captain. He would make the Methuselah Man pay for his dastardly treachery. First, he had to win through, though.

Wake up, Maddox. I think you’re sleeping.

His eyelids fluttered, fluttered more, and consciousness returned to him with a snap. He was lying down, protected by the photon suit. He tasted stale air. How long had he lain in the suit? Moving an arm, he reached a side switch and pressed it. A whoosh of sound told him the suit had activated, which meant it had been off.

Fresh air cycled into the captain’s helmet. He breathed deeply, and more awareness returned to him. He clicked on a helmet lamp.

The light was dim, barely passing his helmet. He looked around him at oozing darkness. He raised his arm and ran his hand through the darkness. There wasn’t any physical resistance as if he was underwater, but the darkness flowed over his spread, gloved fingers.

What is this place, this realm?

Maddox grunted as he forced himself to stand. He found it difficult, and stood panting for a time. Finally, he started circling his command chair, soon finding the professor lying on the deck.

Maddox turned on the professor’s photon suit and air tanks and waited. They worked, but even when he shook the Methuselah Man, Ludendorff continued to snore.

Maddox went to each of the bridge crew, turning on their suits. It made no difference. They remained unconscious.

He went to the controls. The life support system was barely functioning, but that seemed to be the extent of the starship’s functioning.

Mentally exhausted by his efforts, Maddox returned to his chair, struggling to keep his eyes open. After a few minutes he lost the struggle, and his eyes slowly closed. He didn’t lose consciousness, but his body began to fail him, as it would no longer respond to his brain’s commands other than breathing.

Maddox concentrated. Perhaps the others were in a similar state. What caused that?

Is it this realm, this place or the ultra-darkness?

He’d felt intelligence before. Could he feel it again? Maddox strained to feel something, but it didn’t work. Perhaps he couldn’t do it on the conscious level, but unconscious.

He waited, relaxed and then strove to understand any hint, any possibility that might have bubbled up from his subconscious.

His thoughts were blank.

I can’t just stay here. I have to do something. We’ll perish in this realm.

OUTSIDE.

What was that?

OUTSIDE. I AM OUTSIDE.

Maddox considered that. Had he just sensed an alien intelligence? If he had, was it evil or good, friendly or enemy?

He had no way of telling. He did know this, though. He would perish in this realm—if nothing changed. That meant he had to take a risk and do…do something crazy, if there was any reason at all to believe it could work.

Maddox forced his eyes open, struggled to rise and began shuffling for the exit. He found it and forced the hatch open.

So began a long slow journey through the darkened corridors. It was tedious and tiring, and many times, Maddox lost consciousness. When he came to again, he was still shuffling along like a sleepwalker. He had no idea how long the ordeal lasted. Eventually, however, he reached a hangar bay.

There, he found a thruster pack, dragging it with him. He found more air tanks, more batteries to recharge the photon suit. Finally, he pressed a switch on a control board.

Nothing happened.

I need those hangar-bay doors to open, he thought intensely.

TRY AGAIN.

Maddox didn’t debate it this time. He tried the hangar-bay switch again. He felt a slight vibration on the soles of his boots. That might or might not be the great bay doors opening. There was no rush of air from inside to outside, and he’d forgotten to drain the air first. What in the hell could that mean?

Maddox did not know. Instead, he followed his subconscious and the idea that something had spoken to him somehow. He dragged the thruster pack to the open hangar-bay door.

Strapping it on, he forced himself step by step to the edge of the bay door. He felt outside, and it seemed different from inside.

Here goes, Maddox thought. He bent forward and let himself drop, and he did drop as if he’d fallen into a weightless vacuum. I’m outside the ship.

YES. YOU’RE OUTSIDE, ALIEN.

Maddox’s head jerked back. He felt that in his mind: direct communication.

Hello?

There was nothing.

Maddox concentrated with the helmet lamp on. He could barely see anything. Yet, he felt that if he went to his left, he would reach an important place. He brought up a thruster-pack arm, switched on the device and began to expel a stream of hydrogen, which pushed him in the direction he wanted to travel.

I don’t know if I’m insane, but here we go.

There was evil chuckling in his mind, and it gave him pause. In the end, Maddox didn’t see what else he could do, so he continued the bizarre journey to a place he could only feel with his thoughts.

-42-

For a long time, Maddox did not feel as if he traveled anywhere. The pressure against his back was the only indication he actually did move.

Then, minutes or hours later—he did not know how long—Maddox sensed an easing of the thickness of the darkness. He realized it as he understood that his helmet lamp shined farther into the darkness. That was encouraging. The darkness would not entomb him forever.

Finally, he reached what seemed to him like normal outer-space darkness. Twisting in the thruster-pack, he looked behind him. A shudder of fear washed over him. He saw a blob of darkness, swirling evil darkness. It had an outline and might have encompassed Starship Victory. Was the darkness a thing, an entity or a substance—or was it something different from what it would be in the normal universe? The laws of physics might work differently here.

Maddox forced himself to face forward. The objective ahead not what lay behind was important. He switched off the helmet lamp and dimly perceived the slightest illumination. He headed for it, steering that way as the dim illumination grew into an—

“Asteroid,” Maddox whispered.

He perceived the light shining from behind an oblong asteroid. How far was the object from him? Distance was murky here. He twisted to look back. The evil darkness around Victory had grown smaller, meaning he’d moved some distance from it.

The captain nodded within the helmet. He was on a quest. That light seemed to point in the correct heading.

Time passed, and the asteroid grew measurably larger. With a start, Maddox realized it wasn’t an asteroid, as it breathed slowly—at least its sides expanded and contracted as a breathing thing would. He did not like that one bit.

Rotating, Maddox applied thrust, slowing his velocity. When he faced the slowed direction of travel, he spied a monstrous creature. He decided to call it a “space-whale,” with skin like a rocky asteroid. He did not yet perceive any mouth or flukes. The image of a whale was conjured by its size. As he strained to figure it out, tentacles, long, long black things, began to unwind from its rocky body. As the tentacles moved, the thing began to turn.

Panic rose in Maddox. The desire to flee in terror grew nearly overpowering. What was this place? Where—?

Maddox bit back a groan of despair. The space-whale had turned, and suddenly he no longer thought that was what it was. He must be going mad or hallucinating. He saw a giant bearded face in the center of the space-whale. It opened human eyes, bright eyes, and the tentacles reached for Maddox.

One of them found him, the supple end wrapping around Maddox and his thruster-pack. The tentacle drew Maddox with amazing speed until he hovered before the giant face in the thing regarding him.

WHAT ARE YOU?

He mastered the panic enough to think, Captain Maddox, at your service.

WHAT IS A MADDOX?

He took a moment to think. Everyone died if he screwed up. This was surreal, but he knew the procedure. He must act.

WHAT IS A MADDOX?

I am. I am an individual. May I ask what or who you are?

The bearded face in the middle of the space whale blurred for a moment. In its place was a horridly alien face with long white teeth ready to rend and devour Maddox and his pack. The thing had slanted eyes and narrow pupils that went up and down instead of side-to-side. The blurring receded, and soon the calm bearded face regarded him again.

I AM THE HORMAGAUNT.

Which meant what? No. That didn’t matter. That was the wrong question. Did you send the darkness against my ship?

SHIP? DARKNESS? OH…YES. I BEGIN TO REMEMBER, AND I DO NOT WANT TO REMEMBER. THAT IS TOO PAINFUL.

The Hormagaunt controlled the darkness around Victory. This was a surprise, a—Maddox realized he had to use what he could. It was time to use his di-far tactics.

For your information, my enemy tricked me into this realm. Maybe he did the same thing to you.

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.

I’m attempting to reach a mobile null region, a Builder-made—

YOU KNOW THE BUILDERS?

Uh, from hearsay only, Maddox thought.

THE BUILDERS DID THIS TO ME. YES…YES…I REMEMBER THEM. I HATE THE BUILDERS. THEY TRAPPED ME HERE FOR AN INFRACTION I DID NOT COMMIT.

Surely, they feared to anger the great Hormagaunt.

BUILDER FEAR IS WHY I AM HERE. I AM SUPPOSED TO DEVOUR YOUR SOUL. DO YOU WISH ME TO DEVOUR IT?

If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you not.

WHY SHOULDN’T I?

That’s easy to answer, Maddox thought. You should forgo doing that in order to thwart the Builders who betrayed you.

YOU ARE RIGHT. I SHOULD THWART THEM, BUT I’M HUNGRY. YOU APPEAR TO BE A TASTY MORSEL, AS EXCITING ERILL ENERGY PULSATES WITHIN YOU.

You can sense that, can you? That means you’ve been lying to me.

YOU ARE SOUL FOOD, MY SUSTENANCE. HOW CAN ONE LIE TO FOOD?

Sorry. I didn’t understand your true feelings. It’s clear that you would rather fill your belly than repay the Builders for what they did to you.

YOU ARE GIVING ME A DIFFICULT CHOICE, MADDOX-FOOD, AS IT HAS BEEN EONS SINCE I LAST FED. IN TRUTH, I HAD GONE INTO STASIS, AWAITING NONEXISTENCE. NOW, YOU ARE HERE TO REVIVE ME. I WAVER, AS I WISH TO HURT THE BUILDERS BUT I WISH TO DEVOUR FOOD AS WELL.

I can help you hurt the Builders if that’s what you really want.

HOW CAN YOU DO SUCH A THING?

First, how did they seal you in his place?

IT WAS DIABOLICAL. THEY SET ME IN A NULL REGION, HOPING I WOULD WILT THERE. INSTEAD, I USED A POWER TO FORCE AN ENVELOPE, CREATING A PLACE WHERE I COULD EXIST. THERE WAS NO WAY OUT OF THE NULL REGION, BUT THE ENVELOPE PROTECTED ME FROM THE NULLITY.

I think I see what actually happened. It is diabolical, as you’ve said. Because of who and what you are, you have inadvertently aided the Builders in their design.

THAT IS A LIE!

I don’t think so. The Builders were clever and knew about your power. You see, creating an envelope was exactly what the Builders wished you to do. The null region was not just any null region, but a mobile one, the only one they built.

WHY WOULD THEY WANT ME TO CREATE AN OUTER ENVELOPE?

You’re a protection, a shield for the inner part of the nullity. We forced our way into the null region but reached your envelope instead and thus failed in our task.

THAT WAS GOOD FOR ME, AS I AM HUNGRY FOR FOOD.

Of course, it’s good for you. That is your Builder purpose: to devour any who attempt to reach the core. You are a good slave and doing your Builder-ordered duty.

WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SLAVE?

You, as you’re doing what the Builders brought you here to do.

YOU MAY BE RIGHT…BUT I DON’T WANT TO STARVE.

Who does?

YOU ARE AN ANNOYING SOUL MORSEL, MADDOX-FOOD.

That’s because I’m a Builder hater. If only I could reach the center of the null region, then I could destroy the Builders—

THAT IS A LIE, AS NO BUILDERS LIVE THERE.

Of course, I know that. Their servant does, though. He has a way to leave the null region and—

THAT IS A FOUL LIE. IF HE KNOWS…WHY, I COULD USE HIS KNOWLEDGE TO LEAVE THE NULL REGION AND RETURN TO THE UNIVERSE.

Like I said, Mr. Hormagaunt, the Builders used you just like planned. Okay, go ahead and eat me. I’ve had enough of this already.

The tentacle tightened around Maddox’s photon suit.

ARE YOU TELLING ME WHAT TO DO?

Hey, look. I’m not going to help you escape your prison. There are far too many people just like me waiting outside the null region. All those people are my friends. Go ahead and eat me, and my knowledge of leaving here dies with me.

AH…I KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING. YOU ARE TRYING TO TRICK ME.

I must taste good. Eat me already.

I WILL EAT YOU WHEN I AM GOOD AND READY TO EAT YOU. YOUR SPIRIT IS SPOILED, POSSIBLY SOUR AND ROTTEN. I CAN FEEL YOUR THOUGHTS CHURNING. YOU ARE A CRAFTY MORSEL. BUT I WOULD RATHER EAT YOUR MANY FRIENDS THAN EAT A SINGLE YOU. WHAT DO YOU SAY? IF I SPARE YOU, WILL YOU HELP ME?

I don’t understand.

I HAVE YOUR SHIP. IT HAS POOR MORSELS IN IT, NOT LIKE YOU.

The darkness around my ship is yours?

YOU ARE A STUPID CREATURE AND DO NOT UNDERSTAND MUCH. THE DARKNESS AS YOU CALL IT—NEVER MIND, YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW. I CAN LESSEN THE POWER STUNNING YOUR CREW. NO, WAIT, I WILL USE SELECTIVE POWER. I WILL LET TWO OTHERS JOIN YOU. I SENSE SHUTTLES ON YOUR SHIP. PICK THE SMALLEST, OR YOU WILL DIE IN THE MAIN NULL REGION. TAKE YOUR TWO OTHERS AND ENTER THE NULL REGION. IF YOU CAN OVERCOME THE BUILDER SERVANTS THERE, YOU CAN OPEN THE WAY FOR ME. I WILL LEAVE YOUR SHIP IN THE ENVELOPE AND CRUISE THROUGH THE UNIVERSE. I SENSE THAT YOU ARE NOT A CREATION OF THE DAWN TIME, BUT SOME LITTLE THING OF THIS POOR ERA.

Do you know the Yon-Soth?

I HATE ALL YON-SOTHS. ARE THEY YOUR FRIENDS?

I hate them, too, having slain one.

YOU ARE A BOASTFUL PIECE OF FOOD, BUT I SUPPOSE THAT DOES NOT MATTER. DO YOU AGREE TO MY TERMS OR NOT?

Reluctantly, I do.

DO YOU LOVE THE OTHER MORSELS ON THE SHIP?

With all my heart.

GO THEN, FOOD. RETURN TO YOUR VESSEL. INDICATE THE TWO YOU DESIRE. I WILL CREATE A CORRIDOR FOR YOUR SHUTTLE TO THE NULL REGION.

You don’t want to come with me?

The great Hormagaunt shuddered as with fear and revulsion. The tentacle drew Maddox and the thruster-pack far back, and it hurled him with vigor.

Maddox felt a sense of speed, and in seconds, he saw the inky cloud. It grew steadily, and the captain realized his velocity was too high.

Even though it felt surreal like a dream, Maddox rotated and began to apply thrust as he entered the inky cloud of thick darkness. This time, it did not make him sleepy. And it did seem as if a corridor appeared, allowing his helmet lamp to shine farther than before.

Had his analysis about the Hormagaunt been right? Had the Builders trapped the strange space monster in the null region, hoping it would create a protective envelope to trap those trying to do as they in Victory had? Would Strand have known that? It would seem the Methuselah Man might have acted in good faith this time, but who could tell?

“We’ll see,” Maddox muttered to himself.

ARE YOU RENEGING ON THE DEAL?

No, Mr. Hormagaunt, I was thinking about something else.

YOU CANNOT CHEAT ME, FOOD. I AM THE GREAT HORMAGAUNT.

Yes, sir. You’re right. I want to get started as fast as I can.

GOOD. CONTINUE, FOOD.

Maddox nodded to himself. If this had all been Strand’s doing, if the Methuselah Man had known about the Hormagaunt…someday he would find the cunning Strand and choke the life out of the little son of a bitch.

-43-

As Maddox trudged once more though the starship’s corridors, he thought long and hard about whom he should take with him into the null region. One choice seemed obvious. He would take Meta, as he would not leave his wife behind as possible food for an alien monster from the dawn of the universe.

Ludendorff might be a good second choice, but the Methuselah Man was old and maybe too weak to run around a high-gravity planet—if it came to that. Should he take Riker instead? The sergeant had proven invaluable on Tortuga.

No. He wouldn’t take Riker. Likely, the coming problems in the null region would take intense stamina or great brains. Meta was a good choice, as she could likely handle herself in the 1.8 Gs of the heavy world. Ludendorff was the obvious choice for great brains. That meant battlesuits and power packs for use on the null-region planet.

Maddox scowled. Leaving any of his crew behind for the monster—if he failed in this—was a bitter thing. Would the Hormagaunt devour his people as soon as he left?

NO! I AM HONORABLE.

Maddox reacted at once, projecting the thought: So am I.

There was no response. Instead of fretting further, Maddox shrugged philosophically. He could see no way around the dilemma. Thus, he would play the hand dealt him, as what else could he do?

“Nothing,” he muttered. Or nothing that he could see. Maybe once he was aboard the shuttle, leaving the outer envelope, he would see what he could have done. But there was no use beating himself up. He must continue to look ahead, not behind.

Maddox breathed deeply. It was time to carry Meta and Ludendorff to a shuttle, a small one, and fill the shuttle with what he figured he’d need for the mission. Then—

“Let’s get to it,” Maddox whispered. The sooner he started, the sooner he might save the crew of Victory.

***

A little under two hours later, Maddox sat at the controls of a small scout shuttle. Meta and Ludendorff were each strapped in a seat, each of them wearing their photon suit. The storage area in back was stocked with weapons and supplies, and the shuttle was fueled.

“I’m ready,” Maddox said. “If you’re really letting us go, now’s the time.”

The thick darkness before the viewing port began to dissipate. Maddox activated the shuttle’s engine and turned on the outer lights.

He could see the hangar bay.

In this photon suit, the captain nodded. “I only took two of my crew, but I guess you know that. I’m leaving, Mr. Hormagaunt. I’m going to see if I can change the status of things. Wish me luck.”

NO LUCK, FOOD. JUST KEEP YOUR BARGAIN, AND I WILL KEEP MINE.

Maddox winced as the alien thought thundered in his mind. He gritted his teeth and switched on the piloting board.

A thrum shivered through the shuttle.

Maddox initiated liftoff, the shuttle floating through the hangar bay. This was probably the strangest leaving of his career. The shuttle sped through the open bay door—

“Which way do I go?” Maddox asked.

There was no interior reply in his mind.

Maddox scowled. Then, a sense that he go that way instead of the other filled him. He followed his instincts, wondering how he would ever find his way back to the envelope.

LEAVE THAT PART TO ME.

Once again, Maddox winced. Why hadn’t the voice in his mind hurt before? “Don’t answer that,” he said quickly.

The Hormagaunt did not. That was a relief. Maybe Ludendorff could figure that out once they were at the mobile null region’s control unit, wherever that was.

Maddox exhaled within the helmet, piloting the shuttle through the dark realm. It seemed as if the shuttle didn’t move but was suspended in space.

Meta groaned, stirring in her seat.

“Darling, can you hear me?” Maddox asked over the helmet comm. He waited excitedly, only realizing then how lonely he felt in this bizarre realm.

Lips smacked over the helmet comm.

“Darling, it’s me, Maddox.”

“What?” Ludendorff grumbled.

Maddox turned the other way. The professor in his photon suit sat up. “Professor?”

“No more professions of love,” Ludendorff muttered. “I—”

“I was talking to Meta.”

“Do I look like Meta?” Ludendorff complained.

“Never mind, Professor. I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Why are we in a shuttle?”

“I’ll explain later.”

“Are we leaving Victory?”

“Maddox,” Meta said sharply. “What’s going on? Why aren’t we on the bridge? How did I get here?”

“Listen, both of you,” Maddox said. “I’ll explain in a few minutes. Right now, we’re trying to leave the protective envelope of the Hormagaunt and enter the null region proper.”

“Did you say Hormagaunt?” Ludendorff asked, with horror tinging his voice.

“I did.”

“Are you claiming to have spoken to the Hormagaunt?”

“Stow it, Professor. Now is not the time.”

“I see. I think I understand.”

“I don’t,” Meta said.

“Please, Meta,” Ludendorff said. “It is imperative that you follow your husband’s advice.”

“Oh,” Meta said, reaching out with a suited hand. She gripped one of Maddox’s photon-suit sleeves. “Are you going to be all right?”

Maddox had seen something odd ahead, concentrating on it. “I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out.”

-44-

The shuttle raced toward a pulsating section of…of reality, for want of a better word.

“It’s green,” Meta said.

“Deeply green,” Ludendorff added.

“What is it?” Meta asked.

“I’m unsure,” Ludendorff said. “Do you have any idea?”

“Indeed,” Maddox said. “It’s a wall, a piece of separation of one part of the null region from another.”

“Explain,” Ludendorff said.

“We’re in an outer envelope of the Hormagaunt’s making. It didn’t like the null region, the nullity. It claimed Builders put it there, doing so for nefarious reasons. Finding the nullity highly discomforting, the Hormagaunt created an envelope, an area, where it could subsist on its own away from the null region.”

“The envelope being the place we entered when trying to reach the null region from our universe?” Ludendorff asked.

“Exactly,” Maddox said.

“Hmm…” Ludendorff said. “I suspect the envelope is protection for the null region.”

“That’s exactly what I told the Hormagaunt.”

“You spoke to it?” Ludendorff said in awe.

“Why would that be bad?” Meta demanded.

“Enough,” Maddox said. “Let’s drop that angle for the moment. Can we punch through that deep green…membrane?”

“Yes, membrane,” Ludendorff said. “That’s very good, Captain. I believe that’s exactly what it is. I suspect the Hormagaunt wove the membrane much as a spider builds its web. The Hormagaunt would feed on souls, if I remember correctly. Why didn’t it devour yours?”

“It’s a space spider?” Meta asked.

“What?” Ludendorff said. “No. That’s not what I meant. But yes, in a way that is right. It built the membrane from its own substance, just as a spider builds a web.”

“Oh.” Meta leaned forward, peering through the polarized window. “The membrane is like spider-silk—”

“No, no,” Ludendorff said, “nothing like that. It’s an analogy, a close one, but the membrane is—”

“What is a Hormagaunt then?” Meta asked.

“Not a Hormagaunt,’” Ludendorff said, “but the Hormagaunt.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Meta said.

“I think he’s saying there’s only one Hormagaunt in existence,” Maddox said.

“Exactly, my boy, exactly,” Ludendorff said. “You never did say why it didn’t devour you or your soul.”

Maddox glanced at the professor. “We made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“Not now, Professor,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff stared at the captain.

“Only one Hormagaunt,” Meta said in the silence. “That doesn’t make sense. How did it come to exist or is it the last of its kind?”

“No, no,” Ludendorff said. “According to legend, it is the only Hormagaunt that ever was. However, your question is a good one. The existence of a single Hormagaunt lends credence to the idea concerning a Deity-driven act of creation in the beginning. There is only one because God—if you will—only made one and no more.”

“Or we only know about the one,” Meta said. “Or maybe it was built in an alien laboratory.”

Ludendorff stared at Meta. “Yes,” he finally said. “Both of those are possibilities, although an alien and a laboratory might be the same thing as saying God.” He turned to Maddox. “You said you saw the Hormagaunt. Did that mean you came face-to-face with it?”

“Hang on,” Maddox said. “We’re either going to crash against the membrane or go through.” He braced himself. The others did likewise.

THIS IS MY PARTING GIFT, FOOD.

Maddox cried out in pain, doubling over.

“Darling!” Meta cried, reaching for him, stopped short because of her seat restraints. She made to remove the restraints.

“Don’t!” Ludendorff shouted. “We’re hitting the membrane.”

Through the polarized window, the pulsating deep-green substance rushed nearer. Meta screamed. Ludendorff swore a blue streak. Maddox slowly sat up as pain pounded in his skull.

As the scout shuttle reached the membrane, a hole appeared, allowing them through without a problem. Immediately, everything changed. Darkness flooded around the shuttle and each of them grunted as if struck in the gut.

“I’m checking suit photon levels,” Ludendorff said. “Ah…it’s just as I thought. We left the envelope and are in the null region proper. My suit is acting just like it did last time we were in a place like this.”

“I’m finding it harder to breathe,” Meta said.

“Check your suit photon readings,” Ludendorff said.

“I’m not seeing anything,” Meta said.

“Is your photon generator on?”

“Oh,” she said. “No.”

“Hurry, switch it on,” Ludendorff said.

“Oh,” Meta said a second later. “Yes. That’s better. I can breathe and think. What is the null region again?”

“Nullity repackaged,” Ludendorff said. “The Builders did something strange with it, allowing it to store things but drain the life essence from entities inside it.”

“Is it safe to unstrap?” Meta asked.

“It should be,” Ludendorff said.

Meta undid her straps, rising from her seat, coming to Maddox and patting his suited shoulders with her gloved hands. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

“Words,” Maddox muttered, as he touched his helmet top.

Meta stroked his back.

“Can you describe these words?” Ludendorff asked over the helmet comm.

“Yes…” Maddox wheezed. “At times, the Hormagaunt speaks directly into my mind. It did so from close range when I was before it, and again later while I was on Victory. The farther I am from the Hormagaunt, the worse the words projected into my mind feel.”

“Interesting,” Ludendorff said.

“Not in the slightest,” Maddox said. “The spots in front of my eyes are fading. Did we make it?”

“We’re in the null region,” Ludendorff said. “I see no indication yet of a world or giant ring.”

Maddox wheezed as he bent forward and began checking the flight board.

“Look, there at the edge,” Ludendorff said, indicating a sensor panel. “There’s something out there.”

“I have a question,” Meta said.

Maddox nodded.

“Why does the shuttle work as well as it does in the null region?” she asked.

Maddox sat up, blinking. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Ludendorff said. “The Hormagaunt did something to it. Now, my boy, I’m bubbling with curiosity. You clearly didn’t want to speak while in the envelope. I suppose you feared the Hormagaunt would overhear you. What happened in the envelope?”

“Give me a second,” Maddox said. He projected his thoughts at the Hormagaunt and waited. He couldn’t sense anything from the creature. “I guess you’re not here,” Maddox whispered.

There was something at the edge of his mind…no. It was nothing. “I think I’m beyond its range,” Maddox said. He took a deep breath. Then, he told them what had happened to Victory and to him in order to meet the Hormagaunt outside the starship. He told them how he’d made a bargain with the creature, agreeing to free it so it could cruise through the universe, feasting once more.

“Aladdin and his lamp,” Ludendorff said, “or Hercules and Atlas.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Meta.

“Your husband had an encounter with a terrible beast, this one from the dawn of time, as in the myths and legends.”

“How do you know that it’s from the dawn of time?” Maddox asked.

“I know from my history lessons as a Methuselah Man in training during my youth under the Builders,” Ludendorff said.

“Oh,” Maddox said. “Yes. That makes sense.”

“What about Hercules and Atlas?” Meta asked. “I’ve heard about the one but not the other, unless you’re talking about a map, an atlas.”

“In the ancient Greek myths,” Ludendorff said in a pedantic tone, “there came a time when Hercules needed Atlas’s aid. Atlas was a Titan and held up the sky as punishment for the crimes he’d committed against the gods. Anyway, Atlas shifted the load onto Hercules’s shoulders and went off to do the demigod’s errand, collecting some special apples that were in his daughter’s care. Upon returning, Atlas told Hercules he enjoyed being free and had decided he wouldn’t take up the sky again. Hercules realized he was trapped, but did some quick thinking. ‘Fine, fine,’ Hercules said, ‘I get it. The sky is a heavy load. Before you go, do you mind if I put a pad on my shoulders so the sky doesn’t hurt as much?’ Atlas thought about it and agreed. Hercules shifted the sky back onto the Titan’s shoulders. Then, Hercules picked up the golden apples and raced away.”

“What golden apples?” Meta asked.

“The ones that Atlas’s daughter tended in Hera’s garden,” Ludendorff said. “That’s why Hercules needed Atlas’s aid. One of Hercules’s Twelve Labors included gathering these golden apples.”

“I see,” Meta said. “You’re saying that Maddox tricked the Hormagaunt just like Hercules tricked Atlas.”

“No!” Maddox said. “I’m going to do exactly what I told the Hormagaunt I would do.”

“But—” Meta said.

“Tut, tut, my dear,” Ludendorff told her. “If you think about it, your husband is doing the right thing.”

“The prudent thing…” Meta said. “Especially if the Hormagaunt can hear our thoughts and—”

“Enough,” Maddox said. “Let’s concentrate on what’s ahead of us, not what lies behind. We have to find the heavy world and the accelerator ring. Is that what we’re seeing on the sensor?”

They all stared at the blip at the edge of the sensor screen.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Ludendorff said. “We must head there.”

“Right,” Maddox said, “my thoughts exactly.”

-45-

Dag the Champion did not understand the complexities of the supposedly “new drive” in the Queen’s hauler. She’d tried to explain it to him, but the science of it had gone over his head.

At a vast expenditure of power, the hauler’s advanced trio engine complex created and helped the other ships travel through a Quantum Xanadu or QX-Tube, and the science behind it was technically exotic. The tube acted in some ways like a wormhole and others like a drive. The tube did not appear in normal space-time, and that allowed the flotilla to leave and arrive at places unnoticed.

The hauler’s great engine complex was presently running smoothly as the flotilla waited two light-years from the location in the Solar System’s Oort cloud—the location Victory had used to attempt to breach the null region.

The hauler also had a unique scanner that used similar principles as the Long-Range Builder Scanner inside Pluto. It could not scan a hundred light-years, but it could “see” the nearer Oort cloud, and that included the Star Watch flotilla of Conqueror-class battleships waiting for more high-speed icy planetesimals to appear. As critical as the ability to see so far, the exotic scanner saw these things in real instead of lagged time.

Dag only knew these things secondhand, as the Queen escorted him to a waiting insertion pod. They moved swiftly down hauler corridors, the Queen keeping up a running discourse, informing him of last-minute changes to the plan.

Dag wore his Merovingian armor and helmet and carried a long white lance. He listened, realizing the Queen hadn’t told him any of this in advance so he couldn’t use it unless she deemed him loyal.

“The mobile null region is like nothing you’ve encountered before,” the Queen said. “It would sap your strength and will within seconds—if I were silly enough to allow you to remain within its influence. Why do you think you’re going inside insertion pods?”

“I assume so we can assault the planet,” Dag said.

She gave him a swift and accusing side-glance.

“But I could be wrong,” he added hastily.

“You are not wrong,” she said. “I’m talking, and the question was rhetorical. Do you know what that means?”

Dag didn’t know if he was supposed to answer that or not.

“Well, do you, you dolt? I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“I do know what rhetorical means, O Queen.

She laughed a moment later. “I’m confusing you, which is my intention. A confused opponent acts in a predictable manner. Remember that.”

He nodded as they turned a corner.

“Surbus controls the null region,” she continued. “I do not think he has wormed out all its secrets yet. As I have said in the past, it is an ancient construct. He can suck in asteroids and spit them out again at a quarter of light-speed. That is the least of the mobile null region’s powers. It is enough to destroy the Commonwealth, however. I suspect Surbus has learned to hate the strange realm. That is why I think he’s serious about taking a treasure trove of wealth and running away. The fool would leave the greatest weapon in existence lying abandoned in the Solar System. Well, not in the Solar System, exactly, but close enough.”

Dag nodded.

“I am about to project a QX-Tube from the hauler to the mobile null region. Your insertion pods will use the tube. I will attempt to put you as near the heavy planet as possible. You must race to the surface and unload, getting underground as quickly as possible. The planet radiates a protective shell against the nullity in the null region. It is not true nullity, of course. The Builders were imprecise in their terminology, in this case.”

Dag nodded once more.

“The point is, the planet radiates a protective zone. The closer one is to the planetary core, the greater the protection. Surely, you can understand that.”

“Yes, O Queen.”

“Now—and this is quite important—are you listening?”

Dag nodded.

“The mobile null region—no, no, that’s not how it is. The Inertialess Ring possesses amazing defenses. I suspect it is how Surbus captured the Koniggratz… You do know what I mean when I say that?”

Dag shook his head.

“The Koniggratz is a Bismarck-class battleship.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Where was I?” she asked. “Ah! The Inertialess Ring has potent defenses, particularly against approaching warships. The larger the vessel, the quicker the ring’s defenses activate. That means, naturally, that attacking with a few tiny platforms is the only way to physically capture the ring, as rushing it with large warships would never work. Does that make sense?”

Dag nodded.

“That is why you’re going in insertion pods and why my soldiers will orbit the planet with armed shuttles. I’m not sure how long the soldiers can last in orbit. The planet will partially shield them from the null region, but not enough, I suspect. I heard about Ludendorff’s photon suits, but never discovered their actual structure.”

He glanced at her.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said with a dismissive wave. “We have what we have. I will launch your team into the mobile null region. You must do the rest.”

“May I ask a question?”

“Hurry,” she said. “We’re almost to the hangar bay.”

“Will the planetary underground be like our simulations?”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve practiced the palace assault. The controls to everything lie in the palace. You must secure the palace and deactivate the ring, put it to sleep. Once you do that, you will summon me. I will do the rest.”

“You’ll use the tube to join us?”

Her head moved cobra-quick as she stared at him. “Why do you ask such a precision question?”

“The better to serve you, O Queen,” he said.

“Or the better to backstab me,” she muttered.

Dag did not say more in order to try to assure her. He’d learned talking too much was the wrong approach with her.

“Hmm, you don’t appear to have a guilty conscience,” she said. “No matter. We’re here.” She halted.

Dag halted beside her. Then, inspiration struck. He marched just a little ahead, whirled around to face her and went on one knee, placing the white lance before her. He bowed his head. “I am yours to command, O Queen. I am yours to unleash against your enemies.”

She smiled and reached out, touching the steel of his helmet as if it were his cheek. “How charming,” she said. “Yes, O Champion. I unleash you upon Surbus the Traitor. Crush his head as I have dictated. Storm the palace and secure it. I must have the planet smasher. I yearn to demolish one Commonwealth world after another as I listen to the lamentations of Star Watch, their pleading for mercy.” She shook her head as her eyes shined.

Dag waited, marveling at her performance, awed at his part in the grand scheme of the universe.

“Arise, Champion. Go with my love.”

Dag stood, towering over her. He made a fist and crashed that against his armored chest. “I hear and obey, O Queen. I will do as you have commanded and will crush Surbus’s head, or I give him leave to crush mine.”

For just a second, worry showed in her eyes. Her lips moved as if to utter what: a warning against boasting? Instead, she smiled and nodded, giving him a tender touch on the shoulder.

Dag raised his lance in a grand salute, spun on his heel and headed for his hardened insertion pod, an ugly little contraption that could hold ten armored Merovingians.

This was going to be glorious.

-46-

Dag sat strapped in his crash-seat inside the pod, waiting for the assault to start. He was the largest Merovingian in here and like the others wore EVA gear over his armor. All the seats were pressed together, some back to back, and the warriors breathed heavily in anticipation, most of their EVA-helmet visors open.

The entire pod jolted.

“Screen,” Dag said.

The pod’s pilot—having trained for this in the “hellish simulations”—tapped a switch. Several screens brightened so all of them could see what was happening outside. A loader raised the pod in its forks, attaching it to the underside of a flyer’s wings. Three pods per wing.

Soon, the flyer shook as its engine started up. Through a screen, Dag saw the hangar-bay door opening.

This was it. They were about to leave the safety of the hauler and race through a QX-Tube, entering a null region.

Their flyer rose, heading to the great door. The flyer left the hangar bay, entering space, normal space with stars. The flyer went to its position outside the giant hauler, waiting as others like it joined for the adventure.

The breathing grew louder in the pod. Dag felt his stomach twist and seethe. They had all done this many times in the simulator. They should all be used to it by now.

This is the real thing. It’s different. We could all die.

“W-What’s that?” a warrior asked in a shaky voice as he stared at a screen.

“You know what it is,” Dag said. Matter swirled as if it was a comic whirlpool. “That’s the tube forming. We’re about to leave.”

“I don’t like this,” another warrior said.

“We’re nothing but stooges,” said the first.

“We’re warriors,” Dag said, forcing himself to sound confident. “We’re more than that. We’re the Merovingians.”

“Yeah? And what does that mean out here?”

Dag turned to the speaker. “That I’ll kick your ass if you keep bitching.”

The others laughed nervously.

“I won’t mind that if I’m still alive.”

“Sing!” Dag shouted. “Sing, damnit!”

“Sing what?” a warrior asked.

“Anything!” Dag roared. “Just quit whining like a bunch of pussies.”

There was more laughter. That ended abruptly as a QX-Tube formed. The entrance swirled with ominous power: leading to…to what appeared as dead blackness.

A warrior moaned in dread.

Dag burst into a drinking song, roaring out the words—something bawdy about fighting and women. “Sing!” he bellowed. “If you don’t, I’ll kick all your asses once we land.”

Other warriors began to sing.

The QX-Tube stabilized, and their flyer lurched toward it.

Dag was too busy belting out his drinking song to take much notice. He studied his warriors. Their fear was palpable and growing. The singing wasn’t helping much. What could he do?—Dag threw back his head and forced harsh laughter from his throat.

“Why are you laughing?” an ashen-faced warrior shouted at him.

“Because I laugh at death!” Dag roared. “I laugh at whatever thinks to challenge me. Will I die? Maybe. Someday. Who in the hell cares? While I live, I will have victory—and you can be sure I’ll fight to the death, if that’s what’s needed. Thus, I laugh at any and all comers. What about you, boys? What are you going to do?”

Some stared at him as if he was a lunatic. Some stared at the screens and trembled in fear.

The opening of the QX-Tube neared, and the hideous darkness down there grew worse.

“Here we go!” one of them shouted.

At that point, every one of the warriors stared at the screens showing their tube entry. Dag tried to laugh once more, but it died in his throat. Then, they plunged into the opening. The pod shivered, shook and—they seemed to elongate as they sped through the exotic tube. There were sounds, they might have been laughter but it also sounded like screams.

The horrible feeling of elongation ceased as a grim chill gripped Dag. He assumed it must have been doing the same to the others. He shivered as his teeth chattered, and then he began to sweat as fever-heat washed through his body. He bit back a groan, tried to laugh—

The pod began shaking, and it was hard to keep his eyeballs from rolling around inside his head.

The scene on the screen shifted—

The shaking stopped; the chill and the heat vanished.

Dag found himself slumped in his crash-seat, collapsed as if exhausted. It took a great effort of will for him to straighten. His head felt stiff, but he turned his neck and glanced at his men. Some had vomited, staining their EVA suits. Others sat like dead fish, with their mouths open.

He eyed a screen. He looked closer at what he saw, understanding that he witnessed the curvature of a planet. It was black and gray with points of lights down there.

“Launches,” one of the warriors said, the pod’s pilot, named Rock.

“Eh?” asked Dag.

“The points of light,” Rock said. “Those are from the bloom of surface rocket launches.”

Dag glanced at the man. “You can’t know that.”

Rock shrugged.

“Those would have to be giant rockets for us to see the blooms,” Dag said.

“That’s right, gigantic.”

The pod shivered.

“What’s that mean?” Dag shouted.

“Easy, big fellow,” the pilot said.

Dag glared at Rock.

“Uh, no insult intended, Champion.”

“None taken,” Dag said a moment later. “What does the shaking mean: that we detached from the flyer?”

“That’s part of it,” Rock said. He grasped a joystick between his legs and switched on a panel. “I’m the best we have at this. We’ll make it down, Champion. I promise you that.”

Dag glanced at Rock and then looked back at the screen. The points of lights—the rocket blooms—had gotten bigger. Just how massive were the rockets?

Before Dag could ask the question aloud, flyers zoomed ahead of the pod. The flyers showed hot exhaust, powering down at the rising rockets. None of those flyers had any pods attached to their wings. They must have already unloaded.

“They’re crazy,” Dag said.

“No more than us,” Rock said.

Dag stared at the pilot again.

“I suspect the flyer pilots are hypnotically pre-programmed to kamikaze for the Queen,” Rock said.

“What does that mean?” asked Dag.

“Kamikazes were Japanese suicide soldiers in an ancient conflict called World War Two,” Rock said. “The Japanese were losing bad, running out of stuff, including experienced pilots. The kamikazes were trained in the tactic of diving into enemy ships, guiding their attached torpedoes or bombs into the enemy vessel.”

“Why didn’t they use AI drones?”

“That was before AI, or even computers.”

“How do you know things like that?”

Rock shrugged, moving the joystick so the pod pitched to the left. “It’s going to get rough, I bet. There are methane storms near the surface. The winds might make it hard to find the heat of an entrance.”

“How do you know about kamikazes?” Dag shouted.

“What? Oh. I was a librarian before the Queen found me. I loved ancient history, anything before our modern Space Age.”

“You remember your past life?”

“Not too well,” Rock said, shifting the pod to the right. “I remember history stories best, but usually only when they’re appropriate to the moment.”

The gray and black planetary surface now took up the pod’s entire screen. From up here, it appeared as if the surface was constructed out of sheet metal and bolted with massive rivets. That couldn’t be right, though, could it? There were swirls down there as well, the methane storms Rock had mentioned.

At that point, the blooms of light ceased. Dag could make out monstrous rockets approaching them. The cone of the nearest exploded—or so it seemed—and twenty new smaller lights appeared, the exhausts of new thin rockets speeding up at them.

“Cluster rockets,” Rock said.

“Is that bad?” Dag asked.

“Yup. Too many for the kamikazes to beat. Okay. It’s time to take us out of here. Hold your water, Champion.”

The pod veered hard left, did a summersault and then seemed to plunge straight down.

Someone else vomited.

“I hear and obey,” Rock said in a rote voice, moving the stick the other way.

The pod shook the worst it had so far. They summersaulted again, heading the other way. On the screen, in the distance, explosions showed. Missiles and flyers disintegrated into fireballs.

A horrible yet glorious lightshow appeared with red, orange, yellow and white streaks crisscrossing every which way. Dag shielded his eyes and his teeth chattered. His stomach roiled as the men rocked violently—and then part of the pod simply disappeared. Shrieking winds howled. One of the warriors flew screaming out of his crash-seat, vanishing from sight.

Dag held his breath as he activated his EVA visor to whirr shut. This was bad. This was very bad. The pod had been hit. The pod could not possibly make it down to the surface now. Surbus must have known the Queen would try something like this, and had been alert. The damaged pod rolled over and over. Dag grew dizzy, faint and might have passed out. He did not remember anything for a time.

Then, he wheezed. His head pounded with pain, and colors danced before his eyes. He attempted to sense movement and heard shrieking wind instead. It did not sound as intense as he remembered earlier.

“Rock?” he called, using the helmet comm.

“Coming to, huh, Champion?” Rock asked.

Dag moved his agonizing neck. He saw that Rock’s EVA visor was up as well. He could no longer see the man’s face, but he sensed a humorous glint in Rock’s eyes.

If that was meant against him—

Dag attempted to rise, and found straps holding him down in his seat. He craned his neck and looked out the jagged broken hull. He saw swirling methane and dark metal heading nearer.

“We’re almost down,” Rock shouted. “This is the last moment, as we’re out of fuel. I hope we still have a chute.”

“A what?” asked Dag.

Rock pulled a lever, and a bundle of fabric flew up, grew to enormous size and jerked their pod hard. They began to float after a fashion.

“A parachute,” Rock said. “I’ve aimed us at a heat signature, a hatch into the planet. The storm is moving us away, though.”

Dag peered out of the jagged opening. There were other chutes blossoming above them. One crumpled as a dark swirl of methane struck it. That pod plunged down.

“Five seconds,” Rock said. “Four, three, two, one, zero—”

The pod crashed with a clang, hitting a metallic surface. They rolled until the pod came to a stop.

“Go,” Dag said, as he clicked off his restraints. He stood on wobbly legs, heading for the exit. His pod was down. How many of his Merovingians had made it with him and how soon would Surbus throw something else at them? Could they find a hatch into the subterranean planet?

With a gloved hand, the Champion gripped his lance. He had other weapons strapped to his back under the EVA suit. He was ready for anything—he hoped.

-47-

Victory’s tiny scout shuttle moved through velocity alone, Maddox having shut down the thruster. They’d witnessed an amazing sight: a tube appearing as if from nowhere. The tube end had vomited flyers with pods into the planet’s low orbital space. Those flyers had headed down to face huge rockets roaring up at them.

They hadn’t witnessed the end of the contest, as the giant metal planet had rotated away from them, taking the sight from their view.

The shuttle moved toward the massive metal planet nearly 600,000 kilometers away. In normal space, they could have seen events easily. Here, in the null region, their sensors lacked the same range and scope.

“The tube has disappeared,” Maddox said.

“Interesting, interesting,” Ludendorff said. “This begins to explain several mysteries.” He was hunched over a sensor panel, tapping here, tapping there and studying the readouts. “I believe that was a QX-Tube, which would indicate Lisa Meyers at work.”

“QX?” asked Maddox.

“Old Builder technology, an unstable technology, I should add. It’s like a short-range hyper-spatial tube with differences. I suspected Meyers might have used such a method to escape from Tortuga, but I discounted it after some serious thought. Now, I see I might have been in error. There are dread consequences to using a QX-Tube. It can affect the thinking, the reasoning of those traveling through it.”

“Meyers clearly launched an assault upon the planet,” Maddox said. “That’s the salient point. That would indicate Surbus was telling the truth earlier.”

“Agreed.”

“The surface rockets indicate Surbus anticipated Meyers and is fighting back,” Maddox said.

“Obviously.”

“Where did the tube originate?” Maddox asked.

“A key point,” Ludendorff said. “Yes, a critical point. The tube deposited Meyers’s forces as close to the planet as possible. Does that mean the planet affords protection against the null region?”

“There’s something else: namely, the precision of the assault. How far out is her main force? Is it inside the null region or outside?”

In his photon suit, Ludendorff leaned back in his seat, putting his helmet back. “What do we know for certain? Meyers put Surbus in charge of the null region while she went elsewhere—Tortuga at the very least. During that time, Surbus obliterated the planet Olmstead. Now, he’s maneuvered the null region into the Solar System. Clearly, he must have gained the data for operating all this from her. Now, Surbus has backstabbed Meyers, as he attempts to gain great wealth. She’s responded by sending a retribution team to eliminate or teach him an agonizing lesson, would be my guess.”

“The planet must contain the control mechanisms to the Ring Accelerator,” Maddox said.

“We don’t know that with any certainty.”

“Weren’t you listening? The assault shows that.”

“Unless the assault is a diversion,” Ludendorff said. “Perhaps that little show was meant for us. That would make better sense than the coincidence of us both reaching here at the same time.”

Maddox stared out of the polarized window. The giant metal planet, the nullity of this place— “Where’s the ring? Why haven’t we seen it yet?”

“Patience, my boy; we’ve hardly gotten into the null region. I find it illuminating that we’ve found the heavy planet and seen Meyers’s people make their assault. That is fortuitous for us.”

“You just said the assault could have been a diversion,” Meta said.

“I did, I did.”

“You don’t believe that now?” she asked.

“As soon as I said it, I asked myself, ‘Why divert? What could Meyers gain from that?’ No. I’m inclined to believe we saw the real thing.”

“We lack time for extended bickering,” Maddox said. “If we take too long deciding what to do next, Surbus might launch more icy planetesimals, maybe at Pluto this time. Or he might move the null region closer to Earth—”

“No!” Ludendorff said. “Don’t you see? That’s exactly wrong. Surbus has given Earth a precious gift, time. He shouldn’t have made his demonstration from the inner Oort cloud, but closed in on the Asteroid Belt and launched surprise assaults. Following that procedure, he could well have pulverized the Earth as he did Olmstead. I wonder if the horror of this place has gotten to Surbus and he wants out of here. In other words, we caught a break because Meyers has been using inferior personnel. I suspect the Yon-Soth ray has something to do with that.”

Maddox grunted. “I’ll grant you all that. Now, how do we use this time? Do we slip out of the null region and contact the Lord High Admiral? Does he send in the fleet?”

“How would the fleet personnel operate in the null region?”

“Take a day, two, three maybe and manufacture enough photon suits for them,” Maddox said.

“Can you ensure that the fleet bypasses the Hormagaunt’s envelope?”

“We come in from the other side,” Maddox said, “thereby doing just that.”

Ludendorff snorted, shaking his helmet. “No, no, no. You don’t understand because you’re thinking in terms of normal time and space. This is the null region, something else altogether. For instance, I suspect the Hormagaunt’s envelope circles the entire null region like the white of an egg protects the inner yolk.”

“How is that possible?”

“The technical nature of the Hormagaunt and its powers isn’t as important as the practicality of the situation,” Ludendorff said. “Notice, the Koniggratz was a Star Watch vessel, yet failed to foil Surbus and company.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Take this one on faith, my boy.”

“Okay…” Maddox said. “Suppose you’re right about that. The fleet would have to pierce the protective Hormagaunt envelope first. Yes, the Koniggratz failed, but one battleship isn’t anything like ten, twenty or fifty battleships.”

“You’re missing the point, my boy. Meyers sent a commando team to the planet for a reason.”

“Maybe because that’s all she has left,” Maddox said.

“I doubt that. Notice, the Hormagaunt told you to pick the smallest shuttle. Don’t you think that was for a sound tactical reason?”

“Maybe…” Maddox said.

“I think, my boy, we’re in a classic di-far situation. Meyers controlled the null region. She must therefore know about the Hormagaunt. It’s the reason the mobile-null-region operator can take it deep into a star system to collect its rocks and launch them. If ships can replicate our feat—Victory’s feat—they will find themselves trapped and neutralized by the Hormagaunt’s envelope. Given your unique gifts, you were able to awaken in that place and meet a curious and perhaps lonely creature. It has told you to destroy the null region in order to free itself. How does one destroy such a region?”

“Not necessarily destroy,” Maddox said, starting to see the answer. “I simply have to make an opening for it so the Hormagaunt can leave the null region. That would likely dissolve the envelope and allow a Star Watch fleet to replicate our feat and find itself in the null region and near the heavy planet—given that the bridge crews, at least, wore photon suits. A barrage of hellburners could change everything in our favor.”

“That all raises the question,” Ludendorff said. “How do you achieve this miracle of making a way for the Hormagaunt into our universe—and is it wise to do so?”

“We have to land on the heavy planet first. While down there, we have to figure out a means to victory.”

“Meaning the Methuselah Man has to figure it out,” Ludendorff said.

“What else can we do?” Meta asked. “We’ve caught two breaks. Surbus gave us time because he likely wants to leave this horrid place as the professor suggested, and Meyers has launched her team in proximity with our arrival.”

“I realize now that was di-far luck in operation,” Ludendorff said.

“The problem is that we know too little,” Maddox said. “I wonder if we should leave the null region and contact the Lord High Admiral, maybe getting him to use the Builder Scanner on Pluto to find Meyers’s main ships. Attacking them would likely prove a superior strategy to our fumbling around down there.”

“You could be right,” Ludendorff said. “The problem is, we’re already here. Landing on the planet might well be the correct move. I’m also curious. Where exactly do you think Meyers is hiding her ships?”

Maddox shrugged. He had no idea. “What’s the operational range of a QX-Tube?”

“It would depend on how accurate Meyers wished—ah, I see your point. I suspect the tube could have reached out, maybe eight to nine light-years from the Oort cloud region.”

“That’s a lot of territory to search even for the Builder Scanner,” Maddox said.

“Yes. True. Now, look. We’re here, my boy. The clock is ticking. You’d better make your choice soon or we’ll run out of time.”

“I know,” Maddox said. He hated this indecision. He needed more data, more information. “Let’s get a little closer to the planet. We still haven’t found the ring. Before I decide, I want to see if this ring actually exists or not.”

-48-

The shuttle moved steadily toward the great metal planet. During that time, another tube exit appeared in low orbital space. Large fighters flew out, fifty of them. The tube disappeared as the fighters spread out. They didn’t attempt to dive planetward, but maintained their orbital station.

“Meyers must suspect we’re here,” Ludendorff said several minutes later.

“I don’t see any of them searching for us,” Maddox said.

“Why else are they out there?”

Maddox laughed.

“You think that’s a stupid question?” Ludendorff asked huffily.

“I have no idea why they’re there. There must be a dozen possibilities that have nothing to do with us.”

“Maybe,” Ludendorff muttered, “but not likely.”

The shuttle drifted to within 400,000 kilometers of the planet. During that time, the fighters orbited the planet twice. At the beginning of the third pass, bright red lights shined from the surface.

“Damnation!” Ludendorff shouted. “Fusion cannons. Those are giant fusion cannons or I’m not the greatest of the Methuselah Men in existence.”

As they watched, red beams stabbed upward, striking half a dozen fighters. Those hit exploded spectacularly. The surviving fighters began jinking, weaving and spreading even farther apart from each other.

“Can they summon the tube and escape?” Ludendorff wondered aloud.

It didn’t appear as if the fighters could. Twenty minutes after the first ray fired, the last fighter disintegrated under red destruction.

“What a horrid way to die,” Meta said.

“In battle?” asked Ludendorff.

“No, cast adrift in a null region over an ancient construct of a planet. They had nowhere to flee, no place to find safety.”

“Just like us,” Ludendorff said.

“There has to be a better way,” Meta told her husband. “How can we possibly land on the planet? It’s suicide to try.”

“It’s time to maneuver,” Maddox said, as he began tapping the flight controls.

“Are you mad?” Ludendorff asked. “Our energy signature will alert the planetary defenses. A fusion beam will kill us next. Is that what you want?”

“We can’t drift forever,” Maddox said. “That means we have to take a few calculated risks. I haven’t seen the ring yet. I want to know why.”

Ludendorff turned to the polarized window. “Yes…that is odd. Where is the ring? It must be on the other side of the planet.”

Maddox engaged the thruster and he maneuvered inward. He kept the shuttle thrusting for eight minutes, abruptly cutting power after that.

Time passed as the heavy metal planet rotated. No new tubes appeared to dump more spacecraft. No fusion cannons rayed, and no rockets lifted from the planet.

At 200,000 kilometers from the planet, Meta cried out as she studied a sensor panel. “Look! That thing is huge. Could it be your ring?”

Maddox leaned toward her sensor screen, nodding. “A little more thrust will give us a better view.”

The shuttle maneuvered to get a better look at what had been hiding on the other side of the planet. There was a ring, a silver-gleaming construct, a giant thing with huge bulky nodes on the rim at various locations.

“Any indication of size?” asked Maddox.

“I’m computing,” Ludendorff said, watching from his sensor panel. “Hmm…I’d say the ring is fifteen hundred kilometers in diameter.

Meta whistled.

“More items are coming into view,” Ludendorff said.

“It’s like a junk heap,” Maddox said a few minutes later.

There were masses of floating cubes, tubes, pyramids, what might have been black sails and planes, giant rods and rocks, so many rocks. The mass of things orbited the giant ring, the likely accelerator. Some of the orbital material floated between the ring and the planet.

“What’s that?” Meta asked. “Beyond the junk heap, it’s all symmetrical and laid out.”

Maddox went to her sensor panel. “Use zoom,” he said.

Meta tapped her board.

On the tiny screen, Maddox saw, “Warships. Those are various kinds of warships.”

“What are you looking at?” Ludendorff said, as he manipulated his panel. “By the stars,” he declared. “You’re right, my boy. I see Spacer saucers, several Star Watch battleships and—do you see the giant oblong vessels?”

Maddox glanced at Meta.

She manipulated her panel. “There,” she said.

“Yes, I see them,” Maddox said.

“Builder vessels,” Ludendorff said. “I haven’t seen one like that…my boy, this is a treasure trove of ancient secrets. If we could restore one of the Builder vessels, why, our technology would leap ahead centuries.”

Maddox was shaking his head. “This makes no sense. Why did—Surbus, I suppose—gather asteroids from the 82 G. Eridani System and icy planetesimals from our Oort cloud? There’re plenty of rocks right here they could have accelerated and shot at the planets.”

“There’s an explanation. You can be sure of that,” Ludendorff said. “Whether anyone but I can figure it out, well, that’s another matter.”

“Speculate as to why,” Maddox said.

“I don’t have enough information to speculate yet,” Ludendorff said.

“Why wouldn’t Meyers have taken a Builder vessel?” Maddox asked. “If it’s as powerful as you say—”

“More,” Ludendorff said.

“Why bother hurling rocks at worlds when she could possess the greatest fleet around?” Maddox asked.

“Ah-ah!” said Ludendorff. “The answer is obvious. It’s glaring, in fact. I’m surprised you don’t already see it.”

“I’m allowing you the privilege of showcasing your expertise,” Maddox said dryly.

“Mock all you want,” Ludendorff said. “Without me, you would be children in this place, less than children. Knowledge is power.”

“Why can’t Meyers access these ancient wrecks?” Maddox asked.

“I don’t know that they’re wrecks,” Ludendorff said, “but you are correct in that she mustn’t be able to access them. That is the answer, of course. I told you it was obvious.”

Maddox considered the idea and what he was seeing. “The mobile null region is an ancient Builder artifact. Instead of stuffing it with Destroyers, they parked old vehicles here—and a wonder weapon.”

“A terror weapon,” Meta said.

“But there must be protective devices, codes perhaps, in place,” Maddox said. “Meyers or her people figured out how to work the ring, but maybe not much more.”

“Ah-ha!” declared Ludendorff. “What did we discover on Tortuga? Meyers has been busy modifying people. One part must be in making others smarter. She must desire smarter underlings so they can decode this ancient place. Perhaps she left it in Surbus’s care because Meyers rightly fears to enter or stay in this place for long.”

“Fears to remain in a place of power?” Maddox asked.

“Consider the Hormagaunt,” Ludendorff said primly. “Would you like to stay near it for long periods of time? Perhaps the Hormagaunt is an indication of what lies in and on the planet. Perhaps the ring also has great hidden dangers.”

“Are you saying that Meyers is a child playing with matches?” asked Maddox.

“Playing with matches in a room full of petrol,” Ludendorff replied.

Using Meta’s sensor panel, Maddox examined the giant ring, the masses of cubes, pyramids, tubes, rocks and beyond that the carefully lined up spaceships.

“How does…the ring operator push through an icy planetesimal and then launch it with precision at Earth?” Maddox asked.

“I don’t know,” Ludendorff said. “We’re looking at it from the outside. If we found the control room—”

“Yes!” Maddox said, interrupting. “That’s the key, the control room.” He grew thoughtful. “Do you see the Koniggratz anywhere?”

“I do not,” Ludendorff said. “Ah…did it park with the other vessels? I would think not… How did Surbus capture the battleship?”

Maddox returned to his seat. “The mobile null region is or has more than we expected. Professor, do you think Meyers’s people have photon suits?”

“I have no idea.”

“The planet must protect its people from the greater nullity.”

“That makes sense,” Ludendorff said.

“Maybe that was why the QX-Tube opened in low orbital space: to get the people down to the surface as fast as possible.”

“You could be right, my boy. Does it matter?”

“We have photon suits. We can operate beyond the planet. The planet has defensive rockets and fusion cannons. I think our decision has just been made for us.”

“I don’t understand,” Ludendorff said.

“Our advantage—one of them at least—is the photon suits. Let’s use that advantage and explore where Meyers possibly cannot.”

“Do you mean the ring?” asked Ludendorff.

“The ring,” Maddox said.

“And if the control room on the planet is the key to all this?” asked Ludendorff.

“I have to make a choice and run with it,” Maddox said. “We’re heading for the ring as we bypass the heavy world. Let’s keep as far from the planet as possible.”

“That means it will take longer to reach the ring, as we can’t cut across.”

“No matter,” Maddox said.

“Maybe we should board a Builder vessel instead.”

“Maybe,” Maddox said. “First, I want a close look at the ring to see what we can learn.”

“What can jog my memory, you mean,” Ludendorff said.

“In this instance, I’ll take whatever works. Now, secure yourselves. We’ve dallied long enough. It’s time we did something constructive.”

So saying, the captain turned on the thruster, propelling the tiny shuttle faster through the nullity of the region.

-49-

Dag led the surviving warriors of his Merovingian Corps across the harsh metalscape of the heavy world. The 1.8 gravities dragged at his muscles and the methane winds blasted at his EVA gear, making the journey nearly unbearable.

The center men—four of them—each gripped a pole. They carried a bubble generator, which provided them with heat in an otherwise inhospitable place.

The ground was metal with great humps that showed the top of ancient rivets. It seemed inconceivable to Dag that anyone might build a world as he would a ship, but such seemed the case here. Had the Builders made the planet?

Another torrent of methane wind shrieked against the company of warriors. The men halted, huddling like musk oxen against the elements.

“That way,” Rock said, pointing. The pilot studied a hand-scanner. “I have the faintest of heat signatures. It should indicate a hatch.”

Dag motioned, and the company turned left, heading for the possible hatch to the subterranean world below. He, like the others, hunched his shoulders as he plowed into the wind. None of them looked up into the blackness above. It was too mind-numbing to witness for more than a few seconds at a time.

Despite their training and equipment, the place radiated a debilitating fear. The Queen had said that came from subsonic generators operating against flesh. They needed to locate and destroy the generators.

One warrior halted.

“Tobias is losing it,” another warrior said over a helmet comm.

Dag heard that. He halted, turned and saw Tobias hunched over, his hands on his suited knees as his fingers clawed fiercely at the protective fabric. Should he leave Tobias? The thought tempted Dag, but Tobias had paid his price. Besides, they had already lost over half the company to the rockets and hard landing. Dag couldn’t afford to lose anyone more, not even Tobias. Reacting, Dag reached Tobias, clutching the EVA material protecting the man’s throat.

“Tobias!” Dag roared, clutching so the other couldn’t possibly breathe. “You can’t die down here. That’s beneath you. Fight! Strive! Continue moving.”

The warrior shivered and then Tobias aimed his visor at Dag. Tobias released his knees and held onto Dag’s wrists.

Dag nodded. He had done his good deed for Tobias. The former champion had better remember this. He patted Tobias on an EVA suit shoulder. “You’re with your brothers in arms. You’re going to be all right. Soon, we’ll be in the underground passages spilling blood.”

Tobias grunted his assent.

Dag resumed the lead, but things only got worse. The methane storm shrieked harder, buffeting them and blowing oxygen snow at the company and fogging their visors.

“Link up,” Dag said over a crackling comm. “Hold hands. We mustn’t lose anyone.”

The warriors obeyed as they trudged into the howling whiteness. The cold became excruciating at the edge of the company as the central heating unit vainly tried to protect everyone. Dag called a halt twice, having men switch places so the freezing could warm themselves nearer the center.

“Do you still see the heat signature?” Dag asked Rock.

“Another half kilometer,” Rock said.

They trudged. They struggled, and Dag noticed a slackening of wind. He saw an outcropping ahead, a shelf of metal protecting them from the worst.

“There?” he asked, pointing.

“There,” Rock said. “It’s a workman’s entrance. That was what the Queen told me before leaving.”

“The heat generator isn’t going to last much longer,” Tobias said. He’d managed to worm his way into being a pole carrier in order to be closer to the warmth.

Finally, the company reached the fabled hatch.

Rock brushed his visor clear, searching for the lock. He found something electronic, put the hand-scanner near and trusted the Queen had given him the correct code.

Something ominous squealed. Yes! The hatch began opening as lights snapped on around them.

Dag plunged ahead, with his lance held before him. He entered a lobby, a cold staging area. Beyond were stairs leading into darkness.

“This is it,” Dag said. “Rock, do you have the schematic?”

“Roger that, Champion,” Rock said.

Dag felt a moment of elation. He had passed the second test. The first had been getting down onto the heavy planet. Now, they had found a way to the subterranean regions. The Queen had given them a blueprint of the general area. Surbus might have installed new safeguards. The control to the Inertialess Accelerator was down here. He had to secure it and shut down the automatic defenses or whatever Surbus had used to launch the rockets.

Did he have enough Merovingians for that? It would depend. If he did, the Queen would soon control the mobile null region once more and she could pummel the Earth into oblivion.

-50-

The photon suits helped the three in the scout shuttle, but it couldn’t stop all the debilitating effects of the nullity. Unsurprisingly, Ludendorff felt it the worst. He grew sleepy and was soon snoring from his seat.

That left Maddox and Meta. He flew. She studied a sensor board. The massive black and gray planet continued to rotate, a bleak world of metal, legend and misery.

The captain skirted the planet, having no idea on the activation range of the defenses. They had closed from 200,000, to 100,000 and finally 50,000 kilometers to the planet.

“The ring is thirty-nine thousand kilometers from the surface,” Meta said. “I imagine some of the debris falls to the planet as meteors.”

“Have you seen any evidence of planetary dents or craters?”

“I haven’t looked. I’ve been studying the spaceships.”

“And…?” asked Maddox.

“They’re dead.”

“You mean powerless?”

“No. More than that,” Meta said. “They lack any power signature of any kind—that’s true. But I’m detecting tremendous deterioration, entropy, if you will, to the…the fabric of the ships.”

“That sounds like something the professor would tell me.”

“It’s as if the nullity—or maybe the ring, I don’t know—has drained the essence of the ships, stripping them of their binding forces.”

“Come again?” Maddox said.

“The essence that binds atoms, the binding forces,” Meta said. “According to my instruments, we see the wrecked starships, but they’re not really there as we think of matter, or material.”

“If we stepped into one, it would disappear in a puff?”

“I think so,” Meta said.

“Which would explain why Meyers never bothered to grab an ancient Builder vessel,” Maddox said.

“Yes.”

“The Destroyers in the other null region were intact.”

“That’s right,” Meta said. “Maybe it’s the ring draining them. Maybe the Destroyers were made of sterner stuff. They did have neutronium hulls, remember?”

“Why line up all the ships so nicely if they’re useless?” Maddox asked.

Meta laughed wearily.

Maddox glanced at her. “Questions, questions. We always have a thousand questions. I wonder how much Strand really knew about this place and what he deliberately left out.”

“It’s troubling you that we’ve had to rely on Strand, isn’t it?”

Maddox nodded.

“Do you think the professor is telling us all that he knows?” Meta asked.

Maddox snorted. “That’s always the question, isn’t it? I don’t know, Meta. The Hormagaunt troubles me. What happens if we free him, if we can? Will he be like a Ska, thirsting to slaughter billions in some arcane way? I don’t want to be responsible for that. It’s hard enough remembering Alpha Centauri.”

Using a Ludendorff-made weapon—that had come from an ancient Builder memory inserted in the Methuselah Man for such an emergency—Maddox had driven a Ska into one of the Alpha Centauri stars, which had caused the star to explode. Even though doing so had helped them defeat the dread Imperial Swarm Invasion Fleet, the tactic had slain billions in the system, a horrible sacrifice that weighed on Maddox’s soul.

“You’re the di-far,” Meta said, as if that covered every one of his sins.

Maddox became silent. Was he getting tired of all this? He’d been battling Star Watch’s enemies for years on end. He would win, and something else would pop up. Did he have a right to complain, though? This was what he did. This was who he was. Could he call it duty, or was there something else driving and spurring him on?

He grinned faintly. Too much introspection was bad at a time like this. He had friends, family and his crew to consider—

Maddox inhaled deeply. “I hate this place, the null region. It’s…too much, too daunting to the spirit.”

“That means we should try to do this fast. In and out,” Meta said. “The longer we struggle here…”

“Right. That’s an excellent point. Speed aids us—given that we don’t make a terrible miscalculation because of it. We don’t have any more time for dawdling. My gut is telling me to head straight for the ring. That’s the essence of the danger to us: the Accelerator that destroys planets. Perhaps if we could terminate it directly…that would invalidate the reason for the mobile null region’s being.”

Meta looked over at him.

“What?” he asked.

“We always seem to be destroying wondrously ancient technology. Maybe it’s time we started saving more of these fantastic items so we can use them in Star Watch’s defense. Maybe something like this is exactly what Star Watch needs against the Swarm in a hundred years.”

Maddox studied his photon-suited wife. “You know, I think we’re going about this the wrong way. Meyers is the enemy’s center of gravity. We should concentrate on capturing her.”

“Like we did Strand that time?”

“Right,” Maddox said. “Meyers likely knows how to deactivate this place. Instead of fiddling here, we should figure out how to leave the null region so I can contact the Lord High Admiral so he can search for her.”

“That’s just it. How do we leave? This is a shuttle. It isn’t Victory.”

Maddox drummed his gloved fingers on a console. How had the Koniggratz left the null region? Was it the same way the fighters had entered, through a QX-Tube. Where was the Koniggratz for that matter? “What are we missing?”

“We’re not missing anything,” Meta answered. “We’re exploring. We’re…Patrol people seeking the unknown. That takes time, trial and error.”

“Strap in, babe. I’m tired of this slow grind. I can feel the nullity clawing at my mind, making me anxious, turning my stomach. These photon suits aren’t going to last forever.”

“Don’t do anything rash.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what I should be doing.”

“Maddox, we’re it. If we fail…Meyers wins. Surbus won’t beat her in the end.”

Maddox exhaled raggedly and flexed his gloved fingers. He needed action. This careful flitting about the null region grated on him. Was that part of his New Man nature? Likely so.

He applied more thrust, giving them greater velocity as the shuttle zeroed toward the giant ring. Soon, now, he was going to have to figure out a way to get into the construct of the ring. It was Builder-made… He glanced at Ludendorff in his suit. He would let the professor rest a little longer because once they reached the ring…who knew when they would have time to rest again?

-51-

Maddox caused the tiny shuttle to rotate and applied thrust, slowing their velocity. During the maneuvers, the professor snorted himself awake.

“Eh, what’s this? You’ve killed us, Maddox. Look. The rims are starting to glow. That must indicate our close proximity to the ring. It’s going to destroy us, maybe with fusion beams.”

Maddox had been concentrating on piloting. He dearly wished Keith were here to do it. This near the ring—approaching 12,000 kilometers—space was filled with junk: rocks, tubes, cubes, the entire ensemble of shapes they had seen earlier. He had to pay careful attention to where they were going. One collision could finish everything. That meant, of course, he had not noticed the rim of the ring.

Maddox looked up at the gigantic ring dominating the floating junkyard. Behind him, he knew, was the heavy world. The professor was right. Areas on the rim glowed, and were glowing more brightly by the second, a hellish red color.

Suits this damned place, Maddox thought.

The redness bled to other parts of the rim until the entire ring glowed with the red-hot color.

“We’re dead,” Ludendorff declared. “You as good as killed us.”

Maddox glanced at the Methuselah Man staring up from his seat through the polarized window at the ring.

“Professor,” Maddox snapped. “Study your sensors. Quit giving up because you’re tired.”

Ludendorff turned his visor at Maddox. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

“Aren’t you tired?” Maddox said, as he observed the middle of the ring. The darkness there had become noticeably lighter, grayer. Now, it began to swirl ever so slowly.

“Of course, I’m tired,” Ludendorff said. “I’m sick and tired of your smug attitude. I’m tired of always having to do the heavy thinking and others taking the credit for winning the day. I’m also—”

“You’re unusually tired,” Maddox said, interrupting. “Are you feeling scared, too?”

“Hell yes, I am. Aren’t you? You’re a fool if you’re not.”

“Exactly. Now, quit slouching like a useless halfwit and get to your sensors. Start helping me figure out what’s going on out there.”

With that, Maddox applied more thrust, slowing the shuttle more and maneuvering to put a fast-spinning cube between the tiny scout and the activating ring. The space between the ring and planet began to churn and swirl faster.

“If we didn’t turn it on,” Meta said, “someone activated it.”

“I assure you that it’s getting ready to destroy us,” Ludendorff said. Yet he did not say it slouched in his seat, but hunched over his sensor board as he studied the situation.

Maddox eased the shuttle, eased it a little more, parking them behind the much larger cube.

“Confound it, my boy,” Ludendorff complained. “I can’t see the ring now. You’ve blocked us—”

“From its sight,” Maddox said, interrupting. “Yes, I know.”

“Oh. Yes, yes, clever thinking, I suppose. Well, not clever so much as an example of lowbrow cunning. I should have thought of the trick naturally, but—”

“Meta,” Maddox said, “launch a probe.”

“Yes, Captain,” Meta said.

“No, no,” Ludendorff said. “Doing that could give away our position.”

The shuttle shuddered slightly, and a dark object tumbled from the vessel and up over the spinning cube.

“Feed that to my sensor board as well,” Ludendorff said.

Meta manipulated her panel.

The professor grunted as he worked feverishly. Abruptly, he sat back and turned to Maddox. “I’ve solved yet another mystery, my boy. Do you know what it is?”

“The Koniggratz,” Maddox said.

“What?” Ludendorff said, sounding crestfallen. “Why, that’s right. How did you know? You couldn’t possibly know.”

“I’ve been wondering how ships—and asteroids, for that matter—enter the null region and leave it. The obvious conclusion was via the ring.”

“In this instance, a lucky guess and data reveal the same thing,” Ludendorff said. “The Koniggratz is coming through the ring. That would presuppose it exited the null region earlier. That probably means it went into normal space-time to attempt further negotiations with Star Watch.”

“Is Surbus on the Koniggratz?” Meta asked.

“We could hail them and find out,” Maddox said archly.

“That’s not funny,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox stared at the spinning cube blocking them from the ring. Conceivably, they could send a message through the probe. Surbus or his people would soon spot the probe and likely figure out the rest. How wise was it to contact Surbus, given he was on the Koniggratz?

Maddox reached up and twisted his helmet, unlocking it from the suit. He pulled off the helmet and rubbed the left side of his nose. It had been itchy for some time.

Without the full photon suit protecting him, he felt the power of the null region like a slap to the face. It made him groggy.

“You’re not seriously considering hailing the battleship” the professor said.

“Meta,” Maddox said, “trade me places.”

He got up, and she sat at flight controls.

“If the battleship destroys the cube, slide us over there,” Maddox told Meta, indicating a mass of tubes and pyramids to the left. “If you’re good, you can put us in the junk and shut everything down and hide.”

“Why do this?” Ludendorff demanded.

“I call it the Monkey Wrench Effect,” Maddox said.

“Eh?” asked Ludendorff.

“I’m throwing a monkey wrench into the works,” Maddox said. “Now, shut up, Professor. Leave misdirection and chaos to the professional.”

“I’m ready,” Meta told him.

“You’re insane,” Ludendorff said. “We have a golden chance to observe them, and you want to play the hero. I resent you taking me down to death with you. You have irrational suicidal tendencies that come out at the worst possible times.”

Maddox positioned himself before a comm screen. Was this a stupid idea? No. He didn’t think so. There were several players in this, and—

“Hello, Koniggratz,” Maddox said. “This is…a friend wishing to warn you.”

He waited, waited…

A light on the comm board turned green. The screen wavered, and a second later, Surbus in all his Bosk glory appeared on the tiny screen.

“Who is this?” Surbus said. He squinted. “You! Maddox, Captain Maddox. What do you want with me? How in the hell did you get here?”

“Meyers has launched an assault upon our world,” Maddox said. “I wonder now if she timed it while you were out trying to make a deal with Star Watch.”

“You’re truly in the mobile null region?” Surbus asked.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

Surbus turned to the side and barked orders to someone off-screen.

A wave of weakness hit Maddox then. With the weakness came a surge of fear. He did not like it, and frankly, was not that used to being afraid.

It’s the null region. It’s screwing with my morale.

He clicked a switch, cutting the connection with Surbus. Donning the helmet, twisting it back into place, he told Meta, “Get us into the maze. Do it now. Surbus isn’t going to wait for long.”

“The battleship’s disruptor cannon is coming online,” Ludendorff said, as he studied his sensor board. “I told you this was a stupid stunt. But would you listen to me, listen to reason? Oh, no. Not you. Not the great Captain Maddox.”

“Quit whining,” Maddox said crossly. “We’ve thrown the monkey wrench. Now, we need to survive it.”

-52-

The spinning cube blew apart, pieces flying from it. The disruptor beam from the Koniggratz flashed past the destroyed cube, burning into the darkness.

The shuttle was no longer behind the former cube, but had slid into the nearby mass of tubes and pyramids, each of them larger than the shuttle. Meta had already shut down the thruster and engine, putting the little vessel on battery life-support.

Ludendorff was hunched over his sensors, only using passive ones so he wouldn’t give away their position.

Maddox paced in the small area behind the seats. He wore his photon helmet, though his nose itched again.

“Why don’t you sit down,” Ludendorff complained. “Your endless pacing will give us away.”

Maddox looked up before he put his gloved hands behind his back and continued to pace. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Yet, the professor had a point, of sorts. The space here was too small for all this walking. Three steps and he had to turn around and restart the process. But the motion lubricated his mind, his thoughts, and he needed some help right about now.

“Tarnation!” Ludendorff said. “The Koniggratz is firing again.”

Several minutes passed as the Koniggratz discharged the disruptor cannon three more times. After it stopped firing, the comm light began to blink.

Maddox halted and stared at it.

Ludendorff looked up. “I hope you’re not going to answer that.”

“Not this time,” Maddox said softly.

“Their shots seem random,” Meta said. “I don’t think they’ve spotted us.”

Another beam flashed, this one striking a pyramid, one much closer than the other times. Pieces blew from the construct, one of them spinning near the still shuttle, but missing nonetheless.

“A monkey wrench,” Ludendorff complained. “I wish Galyan were here to catalog your suicidal bravado. He’s keeping a psychological profile on you. Did you know that?”

“Of course he knows that, Professor,” Meta said. “Why don’t you relax and let the captain think.”

“Thinking is what got us into this mess,” Ludendorff said. “Or was it listening to his gut. That may have worked in normal times, but not here in the null region.”

Yet another beam flashed from the Koniggratz, but this one was farther away than before.

“Probing,” Meta said. “Surbus is probing for us.”

“Naturally, he’s probing,” Ludendorff said. “He has all the time he needs.”

“Untrue,” Maddox said. “His random shots prove he doesn’t know what to do. If he had time and was thinking clearly, he would launch probes, many of them. How long can Surbus and his crew remain in the null region?”

“You mean away from the heavy planet,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox nodded.

“Hmm….” Ludendorff said. “That’s according to your theory that we have the advantage of the photon suits.”

Maddox did not reply. He had stopped pacing for a moment. Now, he resumed. He was waiting for the firing to stop.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Finally, Meta said, “It’s been ten minutes since their last shot. I wonder if the Koniggratz is still out there.”

Ludendorff studied his sensor board. “I don’t see them, but the battleship could be hiding behind debris until we show ourselves.”

Maddox halted with his helmeted head bent in thought. He looked up and turned to the others. “I have an idea.”

“We charge the Koniggratz in a suicidal rush?” asked Ludendorff.

“No,” Maddox said. “I use a thruster-pack and head to the ring. I’ll look for a way—”

“No!” Meta said. “That would be madness. We either all go or all stay.”

“Do you know how long it would take to cross the distance by thruster-pack?” Ludendorff asked. “We’re still too far from the ring for such shenanigans.”

Maddox relented, and they waited. Half an hour passed.

“Ah, I see the Koniggratz,” Ludendorff said. “It’s approaching planetary orbit. I imagine Surbus has left sensors and mines behind. We dare not attempt approaching the ring now.”

“Wrong,” Maddox said. “We have the photon suits. Surbus has to go down to the planet for safety. The planet must provide protection from the nullity. Otherwise, staying in the null region would have been insanity for them, and Surbus has shown he is not insane.”

“The nullity won’t hurt sensors or mines as much as people,” Ludendorff said.

“Still,” Maddox said. “This is our opportunity. We take it, or we go home.”

“And how do we go home?” Ludendorff asked.

“Exactly,” Maddox said. “We don’t. So, we forge ahead. It’s all we have left.”

-53-

Dag led his company of Merovingians, having taken a huge elevator down two kilometers under the surface. The Queen’s schematics had proven highly accurate. Surbus had not changed or added anything to the subterranean defenses, at least not so far. Nor had they come across human defenders. The great subterranean world seemed empty of the Queen’s former people.

The warriors had shed their EVA gear, as the corridors down here had breathable air and heat. They were huge corridors, smooth and metallic, with lights embedded in the ceilings. The men had deposited the EVA equipment on an antigravity floater, with three warriors guarding it and bringing it up in the rear.

The Merovingians had their fire-lances, hand-sized blasters and sonic grenades with three portable flamers for insurance. Rock and several other pilots used hand-scanners, testing the way ahead.

“How much farther is the control room?” Dag asked Rock.

The band had halted, nearly one hundred and fifty Merovingians in total.

Rock rechecked his hand-scanner. “A little less than four kilometers,” he said.

“Where is Surbus?” Dag wondered.

“Maybe he’s gone,” Rock said.

“If he used the Accelerator to take the Koniggratz into the Oort cloud, he would have needed a crew in the control room to open the way for him.”

“We may have caught a break,” Rock said.

Dag glanced back at his men; the Queen’s men, he amended. The terror of this place was less than before. With their scanners, the pilots had pinpointed several subsonic generators, and the warriors had blasted them. Also, the ill effects of the null region was supposed to be less down here.

Dag grinned. They were close, and Surbus and the bulk of his men might be aboard the Koniggratz. That was good luck. If they could storm the control room—

His heart beat faster.

“For this, I was made,” Dag whispered. And yet, could Surbus have been so stupid as to leave the way open? Wouldn’t the Bosk realize the Queen would send them?

Dag decided a little insurance was in order. “Tobias,” he called.

The ex-Champion trotted to him.

“Select nine men,” Dag said. “You will scout ahead of the party.”

Tobias hesitated, and he moved his right hand onto the butt of his holstered blaster.

“Is there a problem?” Dag asked softly.

“No problem,” Tobias said angrily. “You’re hanging me out to dry by sending me out as a tripwire.”

“No,” Dag said, putting a hand on the left side of Tobias’s neck. “I’m giving you the chance to play the hero. Do you not thrill at the opportunity?”

“You will not be rid of me so easily,” Tobias said.

Dag squeezed the man’s neck. “Tobias, don’t be stupid. I saved your life on the surface. I’ve saved your life from the beginning. You should recognize that. I won’t throw your life away now. Rather, I’m giving you a vital mission because you’re the best man for the job.”

Tobias did not wince under Dag’s grip, but he breathed faster.

“You used to treat me ill, remember?” Dag asked. “Yet, I have treated you well. Now, you can earn my praise. Act honorably and with courage. Can you do that?”

“Salt in the wounds,” Tobias muttered.

Dag tightened his grip. “Misplaced pride.”

Tobias winced and gasped, “Mercy.”

Dag released him. “Pick nine men. Tell me when you’re ready. This has all been too easy. I suspect a trap. You’ll save the company by your alertness, and maybe you’ll save your tarnished reputation.”

Tobias seemed to master himself. He made a fist and thumped his breastplate with it. “I hear and obey, Champion. It shall be done.”

Tobias turned away to select his nine.

Five minutes later, the company began to move again. Tobias and his nine jogged ahead of the main group until they vanished in the tunnels ahead.

At that point, Rock stopped short, staring at his hand-scanner in shock. He turned and stared at Dag.

The Champion noticed, and worry blossomed in his heart.

Rock bit his lower lip, hesitated and finally jogged to Dag. “Champion, you should see this.”

“Halt!” Dag called.

The company came to a stop, although Tobias still forged ahead somewhere.

“Look at this,” Rock said, showing him the hand-scanner.

Surbus grinned out of the tiny screen. It looked as if he sat on a chair on a ship’s bridge.

Dag looked up sharply at Rock. “Surbus is on the Koniggratz.”

“I heard that,” Surbus said. “Captain Maddox warned me you’d landed on the planet. I killed the captain. Now, I’m about to kill you. Are you the leader of the invaders?”

“I’m the Champion Dag. If you’re aboard the Koniggratz, it means you’re not down here.”

“What fantastic logic, Champion,” Surbus said with a sneer. “I see Meyers chose a brilliant tactician.”

“If you’re in space—”

“You fool,” Surbus said. “I’ve already contacted the control-room team. You’ll never make it to them. Do you think I haven’t anticipated this moment a thousand times?”

“So why bother talking to me?” Dag asked.

“Let’s join forces, Champion. I need more men. Star Watch is ready to pay me trillions. They’re frightened of the Inertialess Accelerator, and for good reason. I’ve toyed with them. But any time I desire, I can take the null region into the Asteroid Belt and pound their planet into dust.”

“Why tell me?”

“You can’t be an idiot. This place consumes people, devouring them in short order. I have to come down because I can’t stay aboard the battleship. The only real safety is in the control room.”

“Which I’m about to conquer,” Dag said.

“Think a minute,” Surbus said. “Do you believe I would have dared to strike out on my own if I hadn’t discovered several amazing tech items? I know Lisa Meyers. She’s a relentless bitch. She’s angry with me and no doubt gave you gruesome orders concerning my demise.”

“Forward!” Dag shouted, waving his arm forward.

The company rose and continued to march.

“You’re going to your doom, Champion,” Surbus said. “I know the tunnels. I’ve had months to get ready. Don’t think you caught me by surprise.”

“But I do think that,” Dag said.

“You’re forcing my hand.”

“I’m loyal to the Queen.”

“Then you’re a damned fool. She uses us. She hates men, real men. Throw your lot in with me, and I’ll make you second-in-command. I’m about to become the richest person in the universe.”

“Meyers will hunt you down.”

“I don’t think so. All Star Watch hates her, and they’ve found a way to get into the null region. Didn’t you hear me before? I slew Captain Maddox. He was prowling around the ring. No more, though. I took care of that.”

“You don’t have any men left, do you?” Dag asked. “By men, I mean Merovingians. We’re the only ones that can survive in this planet for long.”

On the tiny screen, Surbus turned to the side. He shook his head and then pleaded with his eyes at Dag. “Do we have a deal?”

“Sure,” Dag said. “Surrender your ship, and bring yourself down here. The Queen would love to have a word with you.”

“I tried, Champion. I really did. Now, though—” Surbus looked to the side once more, and he nodded to someone unseen.

“Is that supposed to frighten me?” Dag asked.

Surbus sneered at him, and the connection flickered off.

Dag handed the scanner-comm back to Rock. Rock took it, and he looked troubled.

“I’m not a liar,” Dag said. “I don’t try to trick my foes. I’m a warrior, a fighter, a—”

Horrific screams rebounded down the corridor ahead. There was the sound of blaster fire, and then more blood-curdling screams.

“Tobias,” Dag said. He turned around, but he saw that his warriors were already armed and set.

The screams came again, sounds of awful pain.

“Follow me!” Dag roared, and he started down the corridor toward the screams.

-54-

From out of the corridor ahead, a Merovingian sprinted with exaggerated strides. He did not carry a lance, a blaster or even a sonic grenade. It would seem the enemy had torn the weapons from him, or he had pitched them aside so he could sprint like the wind. As he ran, the Merovingian tore the helmet from his head and threw it backward. It sailed, and something struck the helmet, batting it. The helmet sailed past the runner, and he moaned with dread. His eyes were wide, and spittle flew from his gaping maw. It was Tobias, and he ran alone.

“Halt,” Dag shouted to the company. “Front row on one knee. Next row, be ready to fire.”

Tobias ran, and five skeletal things raced after him. They did not wear clothes. They seemed inhuman, but the slits between their legs made them appear female. Their skin was translucent, their muscles practically nonexistent. Their deathlike faces showed no expressions. Their eyes were black dots, emotionless. These must have been some kind of zombie cyborg, enslaved creatures that ran faster than a pack of cheetahs.

Tobias sobbed with effort, straining to reach the company.

The foremost zombie leapt, sailing like a great cat, and landed on Tobias’s back, bringing him down to slide across the floor. With skeletal fingers, she grasped his head and wrenched awfully, twisting it around and snapping his spine.

The other four cyborg-zombies raced at the company.

“Front rank, fire!” Dag roared.

The fire-lances belched flames that arched and splashed, hitting nothing. The skeletal creatures had inhuman quickness, dodging the fire.

“Blasters!” Dag roared, as he dug a blaster from his hip holster.

The zombie creatures sprinted and leapt—sailing into the company of Merovingians.

Dag targeted one and shot her in the chest. The blast tore flesh and synthetic material, exposing steel ribs. Then, she landed upon a Merovingian and slew the warrior as she had Tobias, wrenching his head half around, snapping bones.

These were hardy, exceptionally strong warriors. But their human muscles were as nothing compared to the wires and steel that moved the skeletal limbs of the zombies at frenzied speed and strength.

Dag stepped up to one who was busy killing a Merovingian, aimed at the back of her head and fired, fired until her skull smoldered and she began to flop like a fish out of water.

The skeletal she-zombies slaughtered more Merovingians. But the warriors did not break. They fought back with teeth, with fists and knives if they could pull them out fast enough. Several jumped a lone zombie, slashing, kicking and thrusting with a lance.

Dag killed another of them the same way he had the first, blasting it in the back of the head time and again.

Finally, the last bizarre creature perished to the superior numbers and weapons of the Merovingians.

Dag was appalled to discover that a sixth of his warriors was dead. It was inconceivable. Five skeletal she-zombies should not have been able to do that without weapons.

Fortunately, Rock was among the living. He handed the scanner back to Dag.

Dag gripped it, staring at a smug Surbus.

“I tried to warn you,” Surbus said. “I have more of them, of course. I can unleash twenty next time.”

Dag was already working out a method to kill twenty, if the she-zombies used the same tactics. It would mean using the portable flamers to create a wall of death. He shouldn’t have let the creatures get so close.

“Are you listening to me, Champion?” Surbus asked. “This is a Hell World, a subterranean hall of horrors. We found those amazon things three weeks ago. I lost twenty-two men to the one we woke before we figured out how to use them. You can see that I don’t have enough to men to keep searching for more horrors, or prizes down here. But if you joined me…”

“You said you’re leaving the null region,” Dag said.

“I did, and I am. That doesn’t mean I’m not collecting a few things to guard my back for later.”

“Did you use the zombies to keep your men in the control room?” Dag asked. “Were the things prowling outside the control room all this time?”

Surbus scowled, but he wiped that away with his hand. “Don’t be absurd. The control room allows me to use the Inertialess Accelerator. I need trusted men there. But listen, Dag. That is your name, isn’t it?”

“What do you want now?” Dag said.

“I’m coming down,” Surbus said. “I have to leave the Koniggratz for now. Do we have a deal or not?”

“Sure…” Dag heard himself say. “We have a deal.”

“I’m going to send a man. You’ll have to leave all your weapons with him. If you don’t do that, I’ll unleash another wave of she-zombies. You’ll all die. Don’t try to screw with me, Dag, and you’ll do fine. Try to play Meyers’s little hero, and one of those creatures will rip out your throat.”

“Send your man,” Dag said.

Surbus eyed him, and the Bosk captain shook his head. “I tried. You have to admit I tried.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve agreed to your terms.”

“Meyers chose a blockhead, I see. You don’t know the first thing about lying. You haven’t asked for assurances. You haven’t protested about me having you rendered weaponless. You’re a fool, Dag, a big dumb brute of a fool.”

“And you’re a dead man,” Dag said, his temper rising at being called dumb.

“If you think—”

With his thumb, Dag cut the connection.

Rock stared at him. “We might have used some cunning to lure Surbus to us.”

“Screw that!” Dag said. “I’ll kill a thousand of those she-zombies. Now, listen, here’s how we’re going to do this…”

-55-

Maddox eased the shuttle out of the maze of tubes, pyramids and pieces of junk caused from the Koniggratz’s disruptor cannon. He had to concentrate, with Meta giving him sensor warnings of small pieces of debris floating in their way.

“There,” Ludendorff said. The Methuselah Man worked a different sensor board, trying to find Koniggratz probes or waiting mines.

Maddox checked his gun panel, which controlled a small cannon that could fire 30mm shells. He accepted a trace from Ludendorff and fired the gun, sending three shells…

A mine exploded before the shells reached it.

“There are more mines out there,” Ludendorff said.

Inside his helmet, Maddox bared his teeth. Maybe the nullity affected the Koniggratz mines, making them more effective than usual. At Ludendorff’s direction, Maddox sent shells at four more. Each time, the mine exploded before the shell reached it.

“They have to see those explosions back on the Koniggratz,” Ludendorff said. “Meta, what are they doing?”

Meta glanced at Maddox.

He nodded.

For the next few minutes, Maddox strained to detect any debris in the shuttle’s flight path as he flew toward the giant ring without Meta’s help.

“Nothing from the Koniggratz,” Meta said, as she studied her panel. “We’re in direct line-of-fire with the battleship, but we’re outside the disruptor cannon’s range. They haven’t launched any missiles yet.”

“Maybe the ship personnel have departed the Koniggratz,” Ludendorff said. “That would align with your theory that they can’t stay in the nullity for long.”

“The photon suits are our key advantage,” Maddox said for the umpteenth time.

“I’m beginning to believe you, my boy. However, the nullity is draining our little shuttle. We definitely have a time limit ourselves unless we can repower.”

“How long?” asked Maddox.

“It’s still in the hours,” Ludendorff said. “I’m just saying. We can’t flit around out here for too much longer. Do we have to regain Victory before this is over? If so, that limits us even more”

“We have to win first,” Maddox said. “That’s the priority.”

“By win, you mean even if we die doing it?”

“As a last option, yes,” Maddox said.

“I suppose a man like you would think like that,” Ludendorff said. “Perhaps that is the fundamental difference between you and me. You’re so shortsighted about events. I take the long view, knowing there is always a second chance, a tomorrow—if I stay alive, that is.”

“How jolly good for you,” Maddox said. “Meta, start scanning ahead of the shuttle again. I think Surbus and crew have left the Koniggratz. Now’s the time for us to reach the ring, if we can.”

“What’s your plan?” Ludendorff asked.

Maddox turned to him. “In all these years, has it ever varied? We find a Builder artifact—pyramid or ring, it doesn’t matter—and we board it, seeing what we can see.”

“Hmm…I was afraid you might say that.”

“You’re not up for it?” asked Maddox.

“I feel so damn tired, and I have a headache that won’t go away. Am I up for it? If I’m not, we’re going to lose.”

“That’s the spirit,” Maddox said.

The shuttle left the junkyard of shapes and debris as it approached the ring. In the distance were the carefully lined up spacecraft. Behind the junkyard was the planet, with the Koniggratz orbiting it.

“How can the ring strip objects of their inertia?” Meta asked.

“By some new principle, obviously,” Ludendorff said. “Yet, you strike to the heart of the matter, my dear. The ring is a prize, a wondrous technological marvel from the era of the Builders. It seems a great shame to destroy it.”

“Could the ring allow the Hormagaunt to leave the null region?” Maddox said.

“Theoretically, I don’t see why not,” Ludendorff said. “The Koniggratz comes and goes through the ring, why not a nightmare creature from the dawn of time?”

Maddox glanced at the professor.

“Yes, yes, if you think I’m playing on your sense of right and wrong, you’re correct,” Ludendorff said. “Will you really let the Hormagaunt run free in the Solar System?”

“I plan to free it from the null region,” Maddox said.

“Which is not a direct answer, my boy. Now, see here—”

“Professor,” Maddox said sharply.

“Eh?”

“Shut up,” Maddox said.

“Shut up, he says. To me, the author of our hopes and dreams. Why you young whippersnapper of a prig, I have a mind to—”

“Professor, please,” Meta said. “You’re tired, maybe irritable. My husband has his reasons for his silence on certain questions.”

“Oh…yes…I’d almost forgotten,” Ludendorff said. “I’m going to close my eyes for a few minutes. Tell me if we’re about to land.” With that, Ludendorff settled down in his seat, his helmet lowering forward.

Meta reached out and put a gloved hand on Maddox’s forearm. He glanced at her. Then, he concentrated on flying. She went back to studying her sensor board.

The ring grew. It showed a vast metal construct with great bulky rims in places. The diameter was fifteen hundred kilometers. There were pitted areas and scorched places as if from beam fire. The width of the inner metal was nearly a kilometer long.

“The ring is deceptive,” Meta said. “It’s so huge, gargantuan.”

“Built to scale with the planet,” Maddox said.

“I’m in awe of it. The thing is ancient, and built by a genius race to help save the galaxy from the Nameless Ones. I can almost begin to sense how Lisa Meyers feels about the Builders.”

Maddox grunted noncommittally. He noticed motion upon the ring, and his heart went cold. “Meta,” he said.

Her helmet whipped around.

“See those?” Maddox said, pointing through the polarized window.

Meta leaned forward, and she gasped. “Cannons,” she said. “They’re moving, searching, it seems. Do they sense us?”

Maddox did not answer. The shuttle was within five hundred kilometers of the ring. The cannons swiveled, aimed a moment at the shuttle, and then continued to move as if the shuttle did not match whatever configuration it needed for firing.

“The computer, or whatever runs the auto-defenses, must sense us,” Maddox said. “But maybe we’re small enough. The Hormagaunt told me to pick the smallest shuttle possible. Perhaps this was the reason why.”

“I’m frightened,” Meta said.

“Good. That will help keep you alert.”

“Aren’t you frightened?”

Maddox did not reply.

“Are you searching for a place to land?” Meta asked.

“That I am.”

She went back to studying her sensor panel.

The shuttle continued closing. Maddox stared at the ring in awe. His wife was right. This was an ancient marvel, a thing like no other. It could accelerate rocks and debris at planets and smash them to bits. It would be a shame to destroy such a construct. Star Watch might well have need of such a device in the future.

“I see something,” Meta said. “It’s a thousand kilometers up on the left side.”

Maddox got up and looked at her sensor screen. He went back to his seat and began course corrections.

“We’re going to do this,” he said.

“I hope you’re right, my love, I dearly do.”

-56-

Dag raised his hand. The company halted in a great, lit subterranean corridor. Men rolled the three flamers forward. They were bulky but portable plasma cannons. Between the cannons knelt Merovingians, aiming their fire-lances.

Green cloudy wisps floated toward them.

“Gas,” Rock whispered.

“Put on your EVA helmets,” Dag said.

Merovingians donned the final piece of their EVA gear. Some time ago, Dag had given the order that each warrior put on his protective equipment, as he’d anticipated something like this.

More green-colored gas floated through the corridor toward them. It was a sickly hue and might have knocked out the entire company, or possibly killed them, without their EVA gear.

Screeches of a hideous nature sounded from behind the gas. Then, in a rush, she-zombies bounded at the Merovingians. The creatures rushed through the green gas, unaffected by it. These cyborg creatures sprouted steel-tipped claws in their fingers and toes. They moved with fantastic jerks and leaps.

Dag chopped his right arm down.

The flamers belched heated plasma. The fire-lances licked with flames. The zombie-cyborg monstrosities leapt over orange roiling clots of plasma—well, most did. Those that failed to launch airborne in time burned repulsively, throwing off a wretched stench until the steel in their bodies glowed red-hot and began to melt like wax.

This time, the fire-lances aimed higher, where Dag had anticipated the she-cyborgs would be. The fire burned and scorched the enemy, but too many of them catapulted through the flames nevertheless.

Blaster fire met the cyborg-zombies, gouging out flesh and synthetic material. The blaster fire was withering and accurate, and targeted heads, rending many of the cyborg-things useless.

Six out of thirty-seven made it through the wall of plasma, fire and blaster shots. Merovingians slashed and stabbed with battle knives. The skeletal things clawed like berserk cats. They slew six Merovingians and wounded a dozen more before combat blades and blasters hacked and shot them to pieces.

Dag reformed the lines and waited. When nothing more happened, he glanced at Rock.

“The scanner is showing clear up ahead,” Rock said.

Dag motioned the company forward. They marched, soon leaving behind the corpses and drifting gas.

“Show me the corridors that lead to the control room,” Dag told Rock.

The pilot pulled out a large blueprint-like map. Dag studied the corridors once again. How many men did Surbus have in the control room? Did they want to die? Would they fight to the death?

“Can you contact them?” Dag asked Rock.

“Champion,” Rock said, “Surbus wants to speak to you.” He offered the hand-scanner/communicator to the Champion.

Dag hesitated before taking it, speaking to Surbus, “The gas and cyborgs failed, but I suppose you know that. Why else are you calling me again?”

“Okay, I admit, Meyers sent her elite,” Surbus said. “But you surely must realize I can blow everything to Hell down here.”

“Killing those in the control room as well?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? I’ll always come back for them. No, the explosions will bury your men under tons of planetary rubble. Is that what you want?”

“The Queen knows what you have in way of defenses,” Dag said. “We’re prepared for anything you can throw at us. Surrender, and it will go easier with you.”

“A bald lie,” Surbus said.

“It’s your funeral.”

Surbus stared at him through the small screen. “Listen, we can team up. You’re good, really good. I could use you on my side.”

“Surrender,” Dag said.

“Or we could split the command. You keep your men. I keep mine. We work together—”

On the tiny screen, Surbus whirled around. Someone else came into view, a tall woman with red hair. Surbus seemed as if he would shout at her. She thrust something at him. Surbus groaned as he clawed out a blaster. The red-haired woman yanked a thing out of him, and jabbed a long thin stiletto up under his chin. No doubt, the steel licked his brain. Surbus groaned and sank as he clawed at her for purchase, his blaster falling to the floor.

The red-haired woman snatched Surbus’s communicator as she shoved him down to the deck. She had harsh features and pitiless eyes.

“Are you Dag?” she asked in a loud voice.

“I am. Who are you?”

“Call me Helga. Surbus made one mistake too many, and he would have taken all of us down with him. The game’s up for independence. Will the Queen remember that I struck Surbus down in her name?”

“She will,” Dag said, “because I’ll tell her. You must call those in the control room, and you must give me access to the Koniggratz.”

“Done,” Helga said. “You promise I’ll live for what I’ve done, you’ll take an oath on it?”

“I so swear,” Dag said. “You made the right choice.”

Helga laughed harshly. “We’re almost out of people—you’ll learn that soon enough. The cyborg-things, they were our last hope. You beat them, and the gas.”

“Just a moment,” Dag said. He lowered the device, putting a hand over the microphone. “Should I call the Queen and tell her it’s safe to enter the null region?”

Rock chewed on his lower lip. “Speed might be critical in bringing the Queen here, but being right about things is more important. I would make sure I have the control room first before I called the Queen.”

Dag nodded sharply. Could this be a trap, a fake-out on Helga and Surbus’s part? He raised the device, staring at Helga, catching fear in her eyes before she hooded it.

“Tell those in the control room to open up for us,” Dag said. “Then, meet us there.”

“What about the Koniggratz?”

“Don’t worry about it for now,” Dag said. “Is anyone from your team aboard it?”

“Hell, no,” Helga said. “We only board when we’re going to leave, and then we have to go fast. Surbus spent too much time taking potshots at Maddox. We nearly all collapsed from being out there too long.”

“Surbus said he killed Maddox.”

“Surbus lied. That was what he did best.”

“Maddox is alive?”

“Most likely,” Helga said.

Dag snarled. “Make your call to the control room. Then hustle your butt here. Do you copy?”

“I’ll make the call as soon as I quit talking to you,” Helga said. “Remember, I’m making all this possible for you.”

“I swore an oath. I’ll remember. Even more important, the Queen will reward you richly.”

“Not as much as Surbus was going to collect. But what good is wealth if we’re dead?”

“Make the call, and call me as soon as you’re finished,” Dag said, clicking off the connection. He handed the device to Rock.

“Can we have really won?” Rock asked.

“Not yet,” Dag said. He shouted at the men, and they began to run in earnest for the subterranean control room.

-57-

The shuttle eased upward along the great curving inner edge of the Ring Accelerator. None of the swiveling, searching cannons had fired at the scout vessel. It would seem that it was small enough to pass unmolested near the ancient artifact.

Maddox approached what looked like hangar-bay doors. They were shut, however, and looked as if they had remained shut for thousands of years.

“Professor,” Maddox said. “Wake up, old man. It’s almost time.”

Through the helmet comm, Maddox could hear the Methuselah Man smack his lips and yawn.

“Did you say something?” Ludendorff asked.

“Open your eyes. Sit up. We’re here.”

Slowly, Ludendorff sat up, his visor staring through the polarized window. “Hell’s bells, boy. You did it. This is a marvel, a marvel indeed. Look at the craftsmanship. Look at the beauty of the ring.”

It was a bright silver, and in most places as smooth as newly blown glass. There were pitted spots, and in places an ugly deep-red rust. Otherwise, it showed a great technological item of gargantuan size, possibly as good as on the day the Builders had installed it in the mobile null region.

“It’s huge,” Ludendorff declared. “Imagine, the Builders used this against the Nameless Ones. I have goosebumps. We’re standing in a place of stellar history.”

“That’s wonderful,” Maddox said. “Can you get us inside?”

Ludendorff exhaled, and he sat up straighter yet. “We’ll probably have to go outside the shuttle, maybe use thruster-packs. It will be harder if we keep on our photon suits.”

“Without the photon suits, we’d never make it.”

“You might, my boy.”

“I’m not going to try without the photon suit,” Maddox said.

“Yes. You’re right this time. Well then, get us as close as you can. Maybe if I can see some Builder script, I’ll know better what to do.”

Maddox did just that, bringing the shuttle closer, closer, and then slowing the velocity until they were crawling.

Ludendorff sat hunched over his sensors. “I remember something, a warning. If we attempt to open the doors, and we do it wrong, that could allow the computers or the ring AI to detect and destroy us.”

“One attempt then,” Maddox said. “Let’s get it right the first time.”

Ludendorff grunted.

At last, Maddox parked the shuttle so the nosecone was a mere few meters from the closed hangar-bay doors.

Ludendorff studied his sensor board. He grumbled under his breath, swore several quiet curses and then mumbled something about the end of days.

Maddox had risen from his seat and stood as close to the polarized window as he could. He put his gloved hands on the rim, leaning forward, studying the bay door.

“I have an idea,” Ludendorff said. “Are you game?”

“Yes,” Maddox said, without turning around. “What should I do?”

“I’m doing it right now,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox turned, to find the professor at the small comm board. The Methuselah Man had taken off the photon-suit gloves. His old fingers manipulated a keypad.

“It’s glowing,” Meta shouted.

Ludendorff looked up, and he swore a quiet curse.

Maddox leaned forward even more, seeing if he could spot a cannon.

“Ah,” Ludendorff said. “Now, I remember.” His fingers typed upon the keyboard.

“The glow is lessening,” Meta said.

At that point, the ancient bay door began to move…upward. It continued moving until it revealed a great hangar bay within.

Maddox went to the flight panel. “Is it safe to go in?”

“Only one way to find out, my boy,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox grunted and gently caused the shuttle to inch forward. Ancient curving script was written along the inner hangar walls.

“Can you decipher that?” Meta asked.

Ludendorff shook his helmet.

“It’s not Builder script?” Meta asked.

“I’m confounded, but it’s not,” Ludendorff said. “That doesn’t make sense, unless… No, I have no idea. It seems similar to Type C Builder script, but similar isn’t giving me the meaning. Maybe my photon suit isn’t working as well as it should.”

“Put your gloves back on,” Meta suggested.

“Oh, yes, good thinking, my dear.” Ludendorff retrieved and reattached the gloves to his photon suit.

Maddox flipped a switch, turning on outer shuttle lamps in order to better illuminate the hangar bay. There was a small pod on the floor, and bigger outlines for what must have been bigger craft, but that was the extent of it. There were no machines, no cords, no nothing in the great hangar bay—twice the size of one on Victory—in here. In the back, however, there were outlines of hatches, huge hatches.

“Maddox!” Meta shouted. “The door is closing.”

Maddox glanced at Ludendorff.

“Must be an automatic thing,” Ludendorff said.

“We can always try to blast our way out if we have to,” Maddox said. “But let’s touch down.”

“And go outside?” Meta said.

“It’s why we’re here,” Maddox said. “Look. We’ve been in ancient Builder artifacts before, the pyramids in particular. Ludendorff is a genius on the topic. This should be a cinch.”

“The strange script worries me,” Ludendorff said.

“Sure,” Maddox said. “It’s always something. Now let me concentrate. I want to make a perfect landing.”

The shuttle eased over an outline on the deck and just as gently settled onto the location. There was hardly a jar, but Keith could have done it better.

Maddox began shutting down the thruster and engine, and the normal thrum no longer penetrated the tiny craft.

“Feels weird being here,” Meta said.

“Any suggestions on what we should do next, my boy?” asked Ludendorff.

“Are you ready to go outside?” Maddox asked.

“I’m beat, if you must know. I’d like to sleep for a week. But you’re going to slave-drive me anyway.” Ludendorff made a show of climbing to his feet and swaying in place.

“Meta, you help the professor. I don’t want to lose this contest because he falls behind.”

“We’re all leaving the shuttle?” she asked.

Maddox snorted. “If there’s something here to fight us, we’ve probably already lost. This is about figuring out how this thing works. There’s only one man for the job. Do you have any stims handy?”

“Not on your life,” Ludendorff said. “My mind is my prize. I certainly don’t tamper with it by ingesting drugs. That would be madness.”

“Right,” Maddox said, as he stood up. He went to a locker and selected a blast rifle, slinging the carrying strap over a shoulder.

“I thought you said we’ll have lost already if we have to fight here,” Ludendorff said.

“Probably true,” Maddox said, “but let’s not make it too easy on anyone. Ready, Meta?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Come on, Professor, it’s time to earn your keep.”

With that, the three of them headed for the exit.

-58-

Dag was worried even though everything seemed to have fallen into place. He couldn’t say that the insertion had been too easy. He’d already lost well over half his company. Most of the losses had come during the descent onto the planet, but the vile she-zombies had been a nasty surprise that had slain too many of those left.

They were in the control chamber, which consisted of many rooms. Surbus’s people were detained in a corner of the largest room, one without any controls. He’d had his men frisk everyone and then made the people sit on the floor. There were twenty-three of them, about half of them women. None of them looked like fighters, but appeared to be techs and mechanics.

Helga was coming. He’d told her to bring Surbus’s corpse. Dag wanted to make sure the renegade was dead and not pulling a fast one.

Rock and the other pod-pilots were in the main control chamber, a large place with hard-to-understand controls. The chief of Surbus’s remaining people had offered to explain how the controls worked. Dag wasn’t ready for that yet.

“Champion,” a Merovingian said. “Helga and her people are here.”

Dag drew his blaster and motioned to his guard team, twenty of the best warriors. They followed the messenger, and found Helga inside the chamber, surrounded by ten of his Merovingians.

“Here are our weapons,” Helga said, pointing at the floor. A host of rifles, guns and grenades lay there.

Dag eyed the woman. She was tall, for a woman, but her head didn’t reach as high as his shoulders. Of course, he was the tallest of the Merovingians, and the heaviest—and strongest, too, for that matter.

Helga’s people wore spacesuits with bubble helmets. All their helmets were set back, exposing their heads. There were a mere fifteen of them.

“Where is—?”

Helga turned around and snapped her fingers. Two men dragged a dead Surbus and unceremoniously dumped him onto the floor.

Dag came forward, squatted and grabbed the chin, lifting it, looking into the dead man’s eyes. It was Surbus all right. He let the head thud onto the floor and stood. “Come with me,” he told Helga. “Watch them,” he told the guard chief.

Dag took Helga into a small side room, a cafeteria, by the looks of it. He pointed at a chair.

She sat, watching him, puzzled, it seemed.

Dag dragged a chair near, sitting in it so their knees touched.

“I killed Surbus for you,” Helga said.

She had harsh features and thick red hair. Her eyes were like lasers. She was a hard-hearted woman. She’d stabbed her leader from behind and seemed unaffected by it.

“You worried I’ll try to stab you next?” she asked in an abrupt tone.

“No. I’d break you in two if you tried.”

She eyed him and nodded. “You look tough, are tough. I gave you your victory, right? Why are you angry with me? Would you have liked to see more of your people die?”

“I’m asking the questions.”

“So ask,” Helga said.

“Why did you kill Surbus?”

Helga nodded, and she relaxed the slightest bit. “He was going to get us all killed. He had his chance. Star Watch is delaying, though. Surbus couldn’t figure out why until Captain Maddox hailed him from the null region.”

“Maddox is here?”

“I don’t know about on the planet,” Helga said. “But he’s in the null region like I told you before.”

“Surbus said he killed Maddox.”

“Surbus lied, although he tried to kill him. In my opinion, Maddox is still out there.”

“Is that why you stabbed Surbus?”

“Look, tough guy, is that really troubling you?”

“Yes,” Dag said.

Helga’s features changed, and a haggard appearance entered her eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like living down here. It’s…okay for a few days. I mean, the nullity out there grinds you down. But after a week, it’s hell. After a month, you’re ready to scratch your eyes out to leave. The planet is supposed to protect us, and it obviously does—” She shook her head. “After Olmstead, and after moving the null region, it started driving all of us bonkers. That was when Surbus came up with his brilliant plan. It wasn’t bad, especially if Star Watch had fallen for it faster, or maybe if the Queen Bitch hadn’t sent you boys so quickly.”

“Watch your mouth,” Dag said. “She is the Queen. She is royalty.”

“Sure, sure. You’re in love with her,” Helga sneered.

Dag reached out and slapped the woman across the face. It wasn’t a gentle slap, but a brutal example of his strength.

Helga flew back out of her chair, landing on the floor. She arose slowly, with a red welt on her one cheek. She ran her fingers through her hair, glaring at him. Finally, she nodded, set up her chair and sat back down.

“I got the message loud and clear,” Helga said. “I will not speak ill of the Queen.”

Dag did not respond.

Helga eyed him anew, and there was fear in her, but it didn’t dampen all her spirit. “Well, what’s next for me, for us?”

“Do you know how to run the controls?”

“Not as good as Phelps. He’s the brainiac around here. Surbus killed a few too many of the smart ones because they balked at his plan. Phelps could have played his hand better because of that, but he lacked the balls for it. If you want, I can tell Phelps to cooperate fully.”

“You stabbed Surbus because you hate this place?”

“That and I no longer believed we were going to get away with it. His idea was a long shot, but if it had worked, we’d all have been wealthy beyond belief. Although, in truth, only a handful of us would have ever spent the money. You could feel the greed affecting all of us.” She shrugged. “It’s better to follow the Queen. She knows what she’s doing and has a better chance of winning.”

“Can you or Phelps shut down the planet’s auto-defenses?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. Why?”

Dag raised an admonitory finger. “You saved my Merovingians. I don’t applaud treachery, but it was useful to the Queen in this instance. You will remain at my side while I’m on the planet. You will warn me when it is appropriate. I will in turn tell the Queen of your sacrifice for her.”

“It wasn’t treachery. Surbus was the traitor to the Queen. He just dragged us along with him. What I did was an act of loyalty, really. But thanks anyway. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Dag opened his mouth to ask more, but he thought that was enough for now. Helga was the ultimate mercenary. She loved money, clearly, but she could count the odds. Surbus had driven her into a corner. Killing her old leader must have seemed like the only way out. To then act so swiftly—Helga was a dangerous woman. Dag had a feeling the Queen would like her.

Dag stood.

Helga jumped to her feet.

“Come,” he said. “You will show me Phelps, and I will put some questions to him.”

***

Phelps turned out to be a scrawny runt of a man. He hunched his shoulders, needed to cut his long, scraggly hair and had the shiftiest eyes that Dag had ever seen.

The runt stood before Dag, Rock and Helga. They were in the main control room, a spacious area with countless panels and screens sized for aliens considerably larger than humans. Phelps kept twining his fingers and shuffling his feet.

“If you lie to me,” Dag said. “I’ll beat you. If you lie again, I’ll start breaking fingers.”

Phelps shook his head. “Shit, man, I’m not going to lie to you. I want to leave this hellhole. I’m sick of this place. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“Can you shut down the planet’s auto-defenses?”

Phelps’s eyes widened. He started nodding a second later. “I think I can. It will mean shutting down most of what I can control.”

“You’re the one who moved the null region from 82 G. Eridani to here?” Dag asked.

“That was me all right,” Phelps said.

“How many people do you need to help you?”

“The whole team would be best,” Phelps said.

Dag rubbed his jaw, nodding shortly. He turned to Rock. “Bring the rest of them in here. Leave out the Koniggratz people.” He turned back to Phelps. “You’d better be right. I want the defenses down pronto.”

Phelps nodded like a whipped cur desperate to please his master.

“Are you bringing more people into the null?” Helga asked.

“No questions from you,” Dag said. He turned to go, stopped and then looked at Helga. A premonition struck him. Had she attacked Surbus for the reasons she’d stated earlier, or had she made secret communications with Star Watch while aboard the Koniggratz and covertly switched sides?

“Please,” Helga said. “What have I done wrong?”

Dag drew a knife and stuck it in her throat. She gurgled, while Phelps screamed with terror. Helga slid off the knife and thumped onto the floor.

Everyone in the room stared at Dag.

“She was a Star Watch spy,” he said, squatting, wiping the blade clean against her jacket. He stood, sheathing the knife. “She would have betrayed us at the worst possible moment. I wasn’t going to allow that.”

No one said anything.

It bothered Dag that he’d made an oath to Helga, but if he was right about her being a spy—he clapped his hands together. Phelps jumped. “Let’s get to it. We shut down the defenses. Then, I can call the Queen and tell her we’re ready for her arrival.”

-59-

The shuttle hatch opened, and Maddox led the way into the Ring Accelerator hangar bay. Ludendorff came next, with Meta behind to watch him.

There was gravity, perhaps one-third Earth normal. None of their sensors had picked it up before. They knew, because they didn’t float, but could sail with the lightest jump. Each of them wore a photon suit, with extra oxygen tanks attached. Maddox had his blaster rifle. Ludendorff wore a belt with tools and scanners. Meta brought along an antigravity sled, pushing it ahead of her. The sled bore heavier equipment, what Ludendorff had said he might need.

Their helmet lamps washed over the great hangar bay, with the outer shuttle lights also providing illumination.

“I want to see the script again,” Ludendorff said.

“Sure,” Maddox said, heading that way.

Soon, the three of them stood before the huge curving script. It made no sense to Maddox, but it seemed vaguely familiar just the same.

“Well?” Maddox asked five minutes later.

“I can almost decipher it,” Ludendorff said. “It’s on the tip of my tongue, like an almost-familiar actor in a movie. You know you’ve seen him before, but you can’t quite place him. The script tantalizes me. I despise this. Why can’t I remember how to read it?”

“Maybe it’s the nullity seeping through your suit making it harder to think,” Meta said.

“That could be,” Ludendorff said. “I’m almost ready to take a stim, but I hesitate. Wait…something over here.” The professor sidestepped ten meters, staring at a new portion of script. “I…can…the Hormagaunt,” he said with glee. “This is a warning about the Hormagaunt.”

“You’re sure?” Maddox asked. “You said it wasn’t Builder script before.”

“I wasn’t wearing my photon gloves then. That must have dulled my mind. Oh, yes, I’m quite sure I understand this. See the high curve over there?”

“I can’t read Builder script, no matter what type,” Maddox said. “So, just go ahead and tell me.”

“You’re a Philistine, my boy. It shows most in times like this.”

“What’s a Philistine?” Meta asked.

“A brute disdainful of intellectual or artistic values,” Ludendorff said. “Goliath was a Philistine.”

“You’re talking about the Bible giant?” Meta asked.

“Correct,” Ludendorff said. “The one young David slew with a rock from his sling.”

“We’re getting way off track,” Maddox said. “You said the script warns of the Hormagaunt. Does it give any specifics?”

Ludendorff pointed a gloved finger. “The loops there, that’s a Builder death sign. The Hormagaunt is death. If I didn’t know better, I would think this is graffiti. I presume a Builder or Builder servant wrote this as an ancient warning.” Ludendorff turned to Maddox. “You cannot release the Hormagaunt into the universe. The graffiti is plain concerning the danger. This is like finding a skull and crossbones in some ancient human tunnel. It’s a warning to beware, to stay away.”

“So, now we know,” Maddox said.

“No!” Ludendorff said, stepping to the captain and clutching one of the suited arms. “You must forget your plan about releasing the Hormagaunt. That would be a worse disaster than letting Meyers acquire the mobile null region. That was your plan, was it not?”

“I will free the Hormagaunt,” Maddox said loudly.

“I don’t know if I can be party to that,” Ludendorff said. “Not after Alpha Centauri.”

Maddox did not reply.

“I built the super weapon that allowed you to attack the Ska.”

“He remembers, Professor,” Meta said. “What about it?”

“That was partly my fault, all those deaths. I do not want to be responsible for trillions upon trillions of people dying.”

“Which is what happens if Meyers regains control of the null region,” Maddox said.

“I think you’re wrong. I think we’re finding that the nullity of this place breaks people down, and in a rather rapid fashion.”

“Suppose Meyers starts equipping her people with photon suits,” Maddox said.

“Yes. That would give her more time,” Ludendorff said. “But in the end, the nullity is too powerful. I believe the nullity ate at Surbus’s loyalty to her. He wanted away from here.”

“You found a weakness in the weapon,” Maddox said. “I like that. We can use the knowledge later.”

“You’re dodging the point, my boy. We must forget about freeing the Hormagaunt.”

“And leave everyone aboard Victory to die?” asked Maddox.

“Sometimes, the cost for saving humanity is very high,” Ludendorff said.

“I keep my bargains,” Maddox said, “but I haven’t forgotten that ultimately I defend humanity from all aliens.”

“Noble sentiments, yes,” Ludendorff said. “But you’re only one man.”

Maddox laughed. “You and I, we’re each one man. How many times have I heard you say that you’re the critical Methuselah Man, that without you, we’re all doomed?”

“We’re talking about you, not me,” Ludendorff said primly. “You’re right, I am the Methuselah Man. I am the critical person in each endeavor.”

“Please,” Meta said. “We’re bickering. Is that the nullity wearing us down at the worst possible moment?”

Ludendorff pointed at the ancient graffiti. “The warning is clear. I’m merely passing it along to your husband, if he has the wit and moral courage to take it.”

“Your warning is duly noted,” Maddox said in a tired voice. “Now, let’s find the control rooms. That’s why we came here. Any idea about where to look first, Professor?”

“You’re going to heed the warning about the Hormagaunt?”

“I’ll mull it over, how about that?” Maddox asked.

“You’re stubborn. But for now…yes…let me see…” Ludendorff looked around the giant hangar bay. “The back hatches seem like the obvious beginning point. Let’s start there.”

The Methuselah Man started for the rear hatches.

Maddox made to follow, but Meta stopped him.

“Private channel,” she said.

Maddox clicked a switch with his tongue. “What is it?” he asked.

“What are you going to do about the Hormagaunt?” Meta asked.

“Exactly what I told it I’d do.”

“You’re going to free it?”

“Darling, do you trust me?”

“With all my heart,” Meta said.

“That should be enough for now.”

Her visor aimed at his visor. “Yes,” she said, softly. “It is. But Maddox, I dearly hope you know what you’re doing.”

He snorted. “That makes two of us. Now, come on. Let’s catch up before the ancient codger gets suspicious that we’re making plans without him.”

-60-

Dag watched Phelps and his team do their job. The entire command complex flashed with yellow lights first, and then red. Sirens began to blare. Giant screens flickered with life showing myriads of underground launch points and fusion cannon generators. One by one, those areas went from lit to dark.

At last, Phelps conferred with several of his people before he meekly approached Dag.

“Sir,” Phelps said, “as far as I understand the controls, the planetary defenses have shut down.”

Dag nodded, and he clapped Phelps on a shoulder. “Can you operate the Inertialess Accelerator from here?”

“Every time Surbus went through to normal space, I opened the way from here,” Phelps said.

“And you can tell where we are in normal space?”

“If you mean where you’ll come out, I do, sir.”

Dag nodded. “Can you send a message to the Queen?”

“Uh…where is she, sir?”

“Several light-years away.”

“In the null, sir?” Phelps asked, surprised.

“No, in normal space.”

“Uh…how could I communicate with her from here then?”

“That’s what I’m asking you. Is there a way to do it from here?”

“Not that I know of,” Phelps said. “I mean, other than taking the Koniggratz through the ring and sending your message to the Queen while in the clear…”

Dag glanced at Rock.

“The Queen has the QX-Scanner,” Rock said. “I imagine she’d hear a message as fast as anyone if you sent it from the inner Oort cloud.”

“How do you time opening the way for the Koniggratz to come back into the null region?” Dag asked the runt.

“That’s just it, sir,” Phelps said. “We time it.”

Dag took a deep breath as he rubbed his chin. He’d completed his task so far. He’d captured the planetary control room, thus effectively capturing the entire heavy planet. Now, he had to send word to the Queen that all was clear so she could come. But what if Star Watch picked up the message? Could Star Watch send more ships into the null region? Maddox was here. What was the man up to? Something against the Queen, that seemed obvious. Well, Surbus was dead. Helga was dead. Did any of the formerly independent people have anyone left with guts to act on their own? He would have to divide them and leave Merovingians down here to guard them. Should he remain, or should he captain the Koniggratz? Well, with Tobias dead, he didn’t have to worry about any of his men turning on him while he was away.

Dag expanded his massive chest. The Queen had trusted him, and he had come through for her. He could try to follow Surbus’s lead… No! The Queen was going to win. Besides, he still wanted to hunt down Riker and pay the bastard back for his treachery. He dearly hoped Riker was with Maddox—

Dag turned to Rock. “Listen. Here are my orders.” And he gave them rapid-fire, as time could still be critical to succeeding impressively for the Queen.

***

Dag could feel the nullity of the place as he rode an elevator up to a waiting shuttle parked in a surface hangar. The nullity made it harder to think and even stay awake. Each of them had taken stims, which helped a little. His mouth was drying out, and he was starting to feel nauseated.

No wonder Surbus had been in a hurry to get underground. The Queen must have secretly injected the Merovingians just before launching through the QX-Tube, as he hadn’t felt this way earlier.

Soon, the team exited the elevator and hurried to two waiting shuttles. A third of the Merovingians were staying below with Phelps and his people. Everyone else was with Dag. The shuttles would be packed, especially with the former independents coming along. The crazy thing was that he had fewer than one hundred Merovingians with him. This had been a costly assault, although the prize was fantastic.

They boarded the shuttles. The shuttles took off, Rock flying theirs. The former independents explained how to get aboard the Koniggratz.

“Come here,” Dag told a medic. “Give me another stim.”

The man pressed a hypo against Dag, and compressed air hissed.

Dag moved his jaw from side to side. He hated the null region. No wonder Surbus and the others had wanted to escape. Dag dearly hoped the Queen didn’t want him to stay here.

With the extra stim taking effect, he breathed a little easier as the shuttles docked in the orbital Koniggratz.

By the time Dag reached the bridge, he no longer felt nauseated, but his mouth was bone dry. He struggled to concentrate. How had Surbus done it? Had Helga kept secrets from him? He bet so. He was glad he’d killed the traitor. She was like Riker, damned Riker—

Dag sat perfectly still. His thoughts were deteriorating. He felt himself reverting to Dagobert Dan.

He rubbed his jaw and looked around until he caught the medic’s eye. The man came near.

“Another stim,” Dag whispered.

“Champion, I would caution against—”

“Just do it,” Dag insisted, interrupting.

The man pressed the hypo against his arm, injecting him with another shot.

Soon, the Koniggratz left orbit and headed for the mighty silver ring. The bridge crew was antsy and nervous, and the medic gave one stim shot after another to them. He passed around bottled waters afterward, and the people guzzled like crazy.

The Koniggratz neared the ring. A shaggy-headed woman from Phelps’ team stepped near Dag as he sat in the captain’s chair. She kept rubbing her runny nose as she coughed into a blood-speckled rag.

“Are you okay?” Dag asked.

She shook her head miserably.

“How did Surbus resist the nullity all those times he went through the ring?” Dag asked.

She coughed, checked her rag and then closed it. “Surbus was a bastard. He was the toughest among us. Helga was the next toughest. They resisted the null better than others.”

“How?” demanded Dag.

The woman shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

“Is the ring ready to send us?” Dag asked.

“Call Phelps,” she said. “You have a direct line.”

Dag forced himself to his feet, grabbed one of her triceps and caused her to stagger with him to the comm. Soon, Phelps appeared on the screen.

“We’re ready, Phelps,” the woman said.

“I see the Koniggratz on the screens down here,” Phelps said. “Head directly at the ring, for the middle, while maintaining your present velocity. The ring will activate as you approach. Stay in the area where you appear in normal space. The way back will activate ten minutes later. Head straight back and then return to the planet.”

With that, the comm screen went blank.

Dag released the woman, who rubbed her sore arm. “All right, people,” he said. “Get ready. We’re going through the ring so we can send a message to the Queen. We’re winning, and the Queen will reward us handsomely for giving her the mobile null region.”

There should have been a cheer, but no one did. They all hated the nullity too much for that.

Thankfully, Rock headed for the ring, which began to glow as the area in the center swirled ever so slowly.

Dag practically collapsed in his seat, eager to leave the null region and think normally again back in regular space.

-61-

Maddox stood to the side, nodding. He knew the Methuselah Man still had it in him. He just hoped time was on their side.

Ludendorff had figured out the location of the ring control room and some of the controls themselves. In the end, they compared to Builder methods as used on the Nexus Pyramids they’d visited before.

The screen in here was massive, created to Builder scale. It was the same with the control panels. With a few quick taps, Ludendorff found and centered on the Koniggratz as the battleship approached the ring.

“I haven’t managed to tap into the ring’s automated defenses yet,” Ludendorff said. “Meaning, I can’t attack the ship.”

“Could we hail them?” Maddox asked.

“Why would you want to do that?”

Maddox didn’t have a reason, so he let the question slide.

“Look!” Meta shouted.

Both men turned as she pointed at running lights on a different wall. The lights shifted colors as machines began to hum with activity.

“Ah,” Ludendorff said. “I suggest that’s the planetary control room running the ring, doing so through this control room.”

Maddox frowned. “Is Surbus leaving so soon after landing?”

“Maybe the invaders overpowered his people on the planet,” Meta said. “This is his last chance to live.”

“We don’t know why Surbus is leaving,” Ludendorff said. “What we do know is that the people in the planetary control chamber are cooperating with whoever pilots the Koniggratz.”

“Yes!” Maddox said. “That’s clear thinking, Professor. Could we stop the Koniggratz from using the ring?”

Ludendorff stared at the other wall—the lights and machines running through sequences. “Not yet, I’m afraid. I’ve barely figured out how to use the ring’s sensors. It takes time to work out the ancient Builder reasoning. I’m good, but I have my limits, my boy.”

Maddox started to pace. There was a proper amount of room to do so here. “The Koniggratz returned from normal space and went to the planet. It would seem it is now heading back to regular space. If whoever controls the Koniggratz is attempting to bargain further with Star Watch, that shouldn’t matter to us in the long run.”

“What about this?” Ludendorff asked. “How would the people on the heavy planet contact Lisa Meyers if her flotilla is in normal space?”

“There’s no mechanism that can send a message from the null region to normal space?” Maddox asked.

“We don’t have anything like that,” Ludendorff said. “We have no idea if they do or not.”

Maddox halted, staring at the huge screen, watching the Koniggratz as it approached the ring. “Professor, maybe you should hurry to the other side and see how they’re opening the way.”

“No. I’m still working here. I have a system. That system isn’t running like a headless chicken at your whims. Let me do this my way, or it’s never going to get done.”

Maddox wanted to grab the old sod and shake him good and hard. Ludendorff was so quarrelsome all the time. Just once, he wished the Methuselah Man would do exactly as ordered. Geniuses were such a pain in the ass.

Thus, they watched as the Koniggratz neared the ring, heading directly for the center of the great metal circle.

The control-room floor began to shiver, and the Koniggratz slipped out of view as it entered the ring. A great hum began, and the shivering intensified.

“The marvel is working,” Ludendorff said in awe. “Can you conceive what’s happening? The ring is opening a way into normal time and space. Imagine if it was shooting an asteroid.”

“Professor!” shouted Maddox. “Can you strip away the Koniggratz’s inertia as it goes through?”

“No! Confound it, I already told you. I take it a step at a time. I can’t figure everything out at once. I’m not a demigod. If I try to use my gut with such tech wonders as this, it will only end in disaster. I work fast, but give me a break, my boy. My mind needs time to absorb each lesson.”

“We’re trying to save the Earth from destruction,” Maddox snapped.

“Oh…” Ludendorff said. “I see, I see. You feel the pressure of all this. I’d forgotten you’re human and not some metal automaton. Yes, we’re all trying to save the Earth, but you can’t rush something like this. It just isn’t done.”

They no longer saw the Koniggratz. It had entered the ring, and possibly transported elsewhere.

“Okay,” Maddox said hoarsely. “The battleship made it out. Could you figure out how to—”

Ludendorff turned from the panel he studied to aim his visor at the captain. “Will you listen to me for once? I’ve told you what I have to do and how I must do it. You want me to save the day. I understand. I’m working hard. But if you’re going to push, push, push—”

“Professor!” shouted Meta.

Ludendorff stopped talking and turned her way.

“Professor,” Meta said in a softer tone, walking toward him with her arms outstretched. “We’re all under great stress, you and Maddox most of all. You two must work together, though. You beat the Prime Saa last mission by working together.” She turned to Maddox. “Please, Captain, Methuselah Man Ludendorff is a rare genius, but he’s also just a man.”

“You’re right,” Maddox said, taking the hint. It was easier when it came from his wife. “You have my apologies, Professor. You work your end of this, and I’ll work mine. It’s just…I feel as if time is running out for us. The Koniggratz leaving means something bad. We need—no, you do your part and I’ll try to do mine.”

Meta reached the Methuselah Man, and she hugged him, even though they both wore bulky photon suits.

“Yes, yes,” Ludendorff said in a sleepy voice as he patted Meta’s back. “You’re right, my dear. I didn’t mean to snap at you, my boy. And I accept your apology, especially as they’re as rare as a dodo bird.”

Maddox muttered something under his breath. Then he asked, “How can I help you?

Ludendorff stared at him. “You just did. Yes. Let me think. If we follow the pattern here…” And Ludendorff went back to studying the latest panel, seeing if he could decipher more of the ancient Builder controls.

-62-

Dag laughed as the Koniggratz entered normal space. He saw stars on the screen. The stars looked so glorious, so righteous and friendly. He breathed deeply, and he could no longer feel the presence of the nullity. He clapped his hands and laughed again.

The bridge crew reacted in a similar way. There were smiles, chuckling and radiating good will.

Dag stood, and he didn’t want to think about heading back into the null region. But the truth was they only had ten minutes to do this.

“Anything out there that can attack us?” asked Dag.

“Nothing that I can see,” the sensor person said, a woman from Surbus’s people, a techie with ugly scars on her face.

Rock piloted the Koniggratz, rotating the ex-Star Watch battleship and slowing their velocity.

Dag strode to the comm officer, a Merovingian, one of the smaller warriors.

“Are you set for broadcasting?” Dag asked.

“Yes, Champion. Whenever you’re ready—speak into the screen here, if you would.”

Dag stood before the screen. He yanked out a comb and combed his hair, putting it away and squaring his shoulders. He nodded.

The comm operator pressed a switch. “You’re on,” he said.

“Most Royal Queen,” Dag said. “We have achieved our goal. The planet is ours—yours. We await your glorious presence so you may have the honor of smashing your foes. Nothing stands in our way. It—I have been victorious. Dag the Champion, out.”

He turned to the comm operator.

The warrior clicked a switch. “I’ll set that on a loop, which will play as long as the Koniggratz is out here.”

“Can Star Watch pick that up?” Dag asked.

“Uh…of course. I mean yes sir.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dag wanted to say more, but he didn’t know what else to say. He turned away and walked back to the captain’s chair. The screen showed the stars, the wondrous stars that showed normality, the universe meant for humans and other life forms. The null region—it was not meant for humans. It was a hell place, a nightmare that devoured one’s soul and mentality.

The good feeling was draining away. Dag understood better why Surbus had attempted what he had. If the Queen promoted him, made him master of the null region—Dag shuddered. That would be a horror. He would refuse such a task.

“It’s almost time, Champion,” Rock said from the helm.

“Yes,” Dag said, the good cheer gone from his voice. He sat down, and he almost wanted to tell Rock that they would not be going back.

“Too bad we couldn’t stay out here longer,” a warrior said.

Several of the bridge personnel glanced at Dag.

“Shut your mouth,” Dag said a second later. “We’re going back. We’re the Queen’s elite. She’ll expect us to be waiting in orbit for her.”

“We have to stay on the Koniggratz?” a warrior asked.

“Maybe we could meet her on the planet, deep underground in the control room,” Rock said.

“Yes,” Dag said. “The control room is the critical place. We will hold it for the Queen until she comes down.”

Visible relief showed on the bridge personnel. Clearly, everyone hated the nullity.

The minutes ticked by too fast.

“There,” said Rock. “I see the opening.”

Dag almost could not give the command. He sat in the captain’s chair, frozen.

“Champion?” asked Rock. “Should I go in?”

“Yes,” Dag said hoarsely. “Take us into the null region.”

Rock manipulated his board, and the Koniggratz headed for the opening, soon disappearing from normal space—the ex-Star Watch battleship reappeared back in the null region as it came through the Inertialess Accelerator. The battleship aimed for the huge planet.

Dag sagged in his seat. The ill effects of the nullity struck him immediately. He opened his mouth and gasped for air. How had Surbus and Helga taken it as well as they had? Surbus must have been one tough son of a bitch.

Am I any less tough? Dag asked himself. He hardened his resolve. Yes, it was difficult to think. He felt like shit. He understood the idea of ripping out his eyes to escape this place. But he was Dag the Champion. He would prove himself tougher than Surbus.

“Increase velocity,” Dag told Rock. “Get to the planet.”

“Roger that, Champion.”

The Koniggratz left the great silver ring, heading for the dark metal planet.

Maddox is out here somewhere, Dag realized. Should he try to find the bastard? Dag shook his head. Let the Queen worry about Maddox. He’d given her the planet, the null region. He’d given her the dream weapon that would pulverize the Earth into smithereens. What more could she want from him?

-63-

Inside the control chamber in the Accelerator, Maddox watched the Koniggratz on the big screen as it left the ring and headed back to the heavy planet.

He didn’t say anything to Ludendorff about it, as the Methuselah Man was busy working on something. He didn’t notify Meta, either. She was keeping watch of Ludendorff, making sure he didn’t collapse or simply quit in frustration.

They wouldn’t be able to stay here indefinitely. If nothing else, they would have to go back to the shuttle to eat and use the facilities. Fortunately, the control chamber was a mere twenty-one kilometers along the corridors to the hangar bay that held the scout shuttle. That wasn’t so bad at one-third Earth normal gravity.

Time passed. The Koniggratz approached the heavy planet and took up orbital station. Soon, two shuttles left the battleship, heading down to the surface. Maddox noted it was the same area of the planet that they’d left earlier. That was important, he was sure of it.

Twenty-some odd minutes after the Koniggratz shuttles disappeared into a subterranean hangar bay, a QX-Tube appeared. The exit was in low orbital space.

Maddox was hunched over the screen controls. By some trial and error, he’d managed to figure out how to use the zoom function and how to recalibrate where the sensor looked. He tapped the controls, using zoom.

A huge hauler exited the tube, along with familiar vessels he’d seen before.

“Tortuga,” Maddox said. There were the spaceships that had eluded them at Tortuga, including ex-Star Watch military vessels. Here was direct evidence of Lisa Meyers.

Maddox felt a hand on his suited shoulder and turned to see his wife staring at the massive screen.

“It’s Meyers, isn’t it?” Meta asked.

“I think so.”

Soon, quite soon, in fact, multitudes of shuttles left the hauler and other vessels. They headed for the surface, a veritable herd of shuttles and landers descending en masse.

“No one likes the nullity,” Meta said.

“One good nuke or antimatter bomb,” Maddox said wistfully. “If I could slip our shuttle near and deposit the nuke there—boom, we would end their space-traveling capability.”

“Some people must have remained behind on the ships.”

“Would you want to stay in orbit in the nullity, without a photon suit?”

Meta shuddered. “The ships must be on automated defense, or the planet could protect them.”

“Probably so,” Maddox said. “Look at that, Meta. Meyers is so near, and we can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“You think Meyers went down to the planet?”

“I do.”

Both of them looked back at Ludendorff. He was hurrying to a different part of the control chamber. He pushed the antigravity sled, taking his special equipment with him.

“He won’t admit it,” Meta said. “But he’s excited. He lives for moments like this.”

Maddox did not respond, as he stared at the ships in orbit around the heavy planet. If he had Victory, he could solve this dilemma in a moment. The starship could launch antimatter missiles that he would make certain got through. This was maddening and frustrating. The professor tinkered with the ring computers and controls. Would the Builder-loving professor come through for him this time? He didn’t want any more lectures about the Hormagaunt. He would free the ancient creature and then—

Don’t even think it, Maddox warned himself.

He exhaled as he stood before the huge screen. Meyers was out there. She had sworn to annihilate all humanity. By her actions, she wanted to start with Star Watch and the Commonwealth of Planets. Her former man, Surbus, had brought the mobile null region to the Solar System. Now that she was presumably back in control again—

“Damn,” Maddox muttered. Meyers would restart the process, wouldn’t she? She would move the null region, he bet. How would he do it, if he had Meyers’s goals?

Maddox’s eyes glowed with desperation. For a wild moment, he considered donning a thruster-pack and driving an antimatter bomb to those ships. He could attach it like an old-style limpet mine and maybe use the thruster-pack to escape. Yet, even if he succeeded, Meyers would still have the heavy planet, and thereby control the null region and the ring.

Should I head back to the Hormagaunt? What good would that be if I can’t explain how to set him free?

Despite himself, Maddox began to pace. Meyers is so close. Should he attempt to land on the planet and assassinate her? Surely, the Merovingians would protect her. They were tough customers, especially that stupid one named Dagobert Dan.

Maddox exhaled with exasperation. He flexed his gloved hands. How was he going to do this? He had one card, the photon suits. He was trying to use that card to play the other one, the Hormagaunt. That card might turn on him, though. The ancient creature might devour billions of souls, racing through the Commonwealth of Planets and killing humans by gorging and feasting—

Maddox struck his thigh. This was maddening.

You already know that. So, forget it. Think, man. Use the wits God gave you. There has to be a way to do this. You just haven’t found it yet.

Maddox sat down at the screen controls. He stared at the parked spaceships. He stared at the area of the planet where the masses of shuttles and landers had disappeared into the subterranean hangar bays. He stared and forced himself to run through any option he could conceive. There simply had to be a way to defeat Meyers and this ancient ultimate weapon.

-64-

Dag knelt on one knee before the Queen, with his head bowed and his lance ceremoniously laid at her feet.

Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers stood in the main planetary control chamber. It was devoid of everyone but Dag, her soldier guards and her. She wore a tight leather outfit and thigh-high heeled boots with a great fur cape draped behind from her shoulders. She was gloriously radiant, with a face that could have launched a thousand starships. She held her baton, the one with the ruby, and looked down at Dag.

“Arise, Champion, and accept my salute,” she said.

Dag raised his head, and he stood to his towering height.

The Queen was tall, but she had to reach to tap him on each shoulder with the baton.

Behind her, watching, were seven soldier guards. Each one held a blaster, and each seemed ready to aim and fire at Dag.

He tried to ignore that and concentrate on the Queen.

“Tell me what happened,” she said. “Don’t leave anything out.”

He did as she ordered, and she only interrupted once.

“Captain Maddox is in the null region?” she shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

Dag licked his lips. He had no answer for that.

“Where was he last?” she asked.

“Near the rubble by the ring,” Dag said.

“The ring!” Meyers cried. “This is horrible.” She turned, swinging her fur cape, taking several steps from him. She glanced once at her guards.

They aimed their blasters at Dag.

Slowly, Meyers faced him again. “Continue with your tale, but hurry. We have decisions to make.”

Dag refused to act cowed. He told the rest of the tale, including how he stabbed Helga in the throat.

“You gave her your oath,” Meyers said. “Why, then, did you kill her?”

“I believed her a Star Watch spy,” he said promptly. “That canceled our agreement, as she had lied to me.”

“I doubt she was a Star Watch spy,” Meyers said after a moment. “But I accept your reasoning, and I suspect your instincts were correct. Helga played a hidden hand. That might have interfered with me. But you slew her, so I no longer need worry about it.”

Meyers glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers.

They lowered their blasters.

She eyed Dag anew. “I applaud what you’ve done, Champion, but I’m unhappy to learn that Maddox is in the null region. He must be using those photon suits Ludendorff created. Yes… That undoubtedly allows him to remain in the nullity. Clearly, he must be searching for a way into the ring.”

“We could use some photon suits,” Dag said.

Meyers eyed him critically and laughed. “You want photon suits?”

“Most definitely,” Dag said.

“Excellent,” she said. “Your wish coincides with mine. Maddox has a photon suit. I want Maddox dead. Therefore, you will take the Koniggratz and head for the ring. Search for Maddox. Find and kill him, and his photon suit is yours.”

“But…” Dag said.

“What? You refuse the assignment?”

“No, O Queen. I do need a way to resist the nullity better. It…devours a man’s soul, saps his reasoning.”

“Are you not the Champion?”

“I am.”

“Can Surbus surpass you?”

“No,” Dag said.

“Then tell me no more sob stories about how the nullity hurts you. Get up there to the Koniggratz and bring me Maddox’s head. If Ludendorff is with him, bring the Methuselah Man to me.”

“But…O Queen, how do I find a hiding shuttle?”

Meyers froze as she eyed him, and grim imperiousness radiated from her. With a thumb, she flicked her ruby-topped baton. She interposed her body between the ruby and her soldiers. Then, she twisted the baton, catching Dag’s eyes with it.

The rays from the ruby striking his eyes—his heart began to pound with desire. He stared at the Queen, and he envisioned stripping her of her garments and making passionate love to her. The lust in him grew inordinately. He took a step nearer.

“O Dag,” she purred. “Do you desire me?”

“Yes,” he said in a husky voice.

“Then do this thing for me. Win my affection by bringing me Maddox’s head.”

“I will,” he said, the words torn from him. He was on the verge of rushing her, pressing her breasts against his chest—

Her thumb flicked a switch on the baton. The ruby quit glowing.

Dag’s shoulders slumped, and he blinked rapidly.

The Queen cast an eye over her shoulder. “Go,” she told the soldiers. “Wait outside.”

They filed out, each of their eyes shining with lust for her.

She faced Dag.

He rubbed his forehead. He wanted to feel the desire once more. He wanted to yearn for her. It had felt so good, so dominating. He’d felt as if he could achieve anything.

“Are you my Champion?” she asked.

“I am,” he said, stepping closer.

“Have a care, Dag.”

“My Queen,” he said, his groin stirring with lust. Then he stepped near her, grasped the back of her head, with her hair in his hands, and pressed his lips against hers, tonguing her, grinding his groin against—

“Enough,” she said with a laugh, pushing him away.

He stood there blinking, nearly overcome with desire. “What…what did you do to me?”

“Do you love me, Dag?”

“With all my heart,” he said.

“Then go. Find Maddox, and kill him for me.”

“And then?” he asked in a husky voice.

“Then I shall dance for you—naked.”

He reeled, wanting that right now.

“But if you fail me, Champion, I will leave you forever. You will never see me again.”

“No,” he pleaded. “Not that, anything but that.”

“Go, Dag,” she said, wondering if she’d used the power of her ruby at too high a setting.

He hesitated.

“Go!” she said. “Do as I’ve ordered. Win my affection by doing as I say.”

“Yes, O Queen,” Dag said, turning, stumbling for the door. He’d never felt this way before. It was a drug, a desire, a deep lust that he must sate.

As Dag left the chamber, he passed the soldiers, who eyed him like a pack of angry dogs. He hated the nullity, but he yearned for the Queen’s embrace even more. He would take Rock and his best men, and he would search for Maddox, or he would die trying.

-65-

Maddox marched across the ring’s control chamber. Meta waved for him to hurry. She was near Ludendorff, who had sat back as he stared through his visor at the latest bank of panels he studied.

Maddox finally reached his wife. She pointed at Ludendorff. He glanced at the Methuselah Man.

His inner helmet comm crackled.

“I can’t believe I did this,” Meta said over the helmet comm. “I’ve had my helmet set on private link with the professor, by mistake. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said to you, have you?”

“About what?” asked Maddox.

“We were on a private channel?” Ludendorff asked.

“Don’t you remember asking me to do that?” Meta said.

“By George, I do. I mean I did forget, and I did ask for some private consolation. Maddox, my boy, do you know why I called you here?”

“Anytime you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen,” Maddox said.

“We’re moving,” Ludendorff said.

“Ah…what do you mean?” Maddox asked.

“The mobile null region is moving,” Ludendorff said.

“I see,” Maddox said. “Can you determine where we’re moving?”

“Indeed, indeed,” Ludendorff said, “inward toward the Sun.”

“Oh really?” Maddox said. “Meyers is moving into an attack position against Earth?”

“That’s a logical deduction, and I quite agree with you.”

“Has she…ingested any asteroids?”

“Not yet,” Ludendorff said.

“Is the ring trying to gather up any of the nearby debris?”

“Negative,” Ludendorff said.

“You say she’s heading for the Sun?” Meta asked.

“I don’t know if that’s Meyers’s ultimate destination,” Ludendorff said. “The null region is going in-system, which naturally means closer to the Sun.”

“She could be piloting us anywhere,” Maddox said.

“If I were running the show,” Ludendorff said, “I’d go to the Asteroid Belt.”

“Of course,” Maddox said. “Professor—”

“Now, now, my boy, you mustn’t get excited just yet. There’s nothing I can do about any of this.”

“Maddox!” Meta shouted. “Look at the screen.”

All three of them turned to the giant screen. It showed the heavy planet, the parked orbital spaceships and the Koniggratz heading away as it zeroed in on the ring.

“Meyers must know we’re in here,” Maddox said.

“How can she possibly know that?” Ludendorff asked.

Maddox pointed at the Koniggratz. “That’s all the evidence we need to know she knows.”

“You could be right,” Ludendorff conceded. “I have practiced with a few controls. Surely, though, the Koniggratz could be heading for the ring to exit into normal space. Besides, if Meyers knows we’re here, why hasn’t she contacted us?”

“Contact us for what purpose?” asked Maddox.

“Our surrender, for one,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox nearly shouted in anger at the Methuselah Man, barely biting back the words before he uttered them. He turned away from the old coot and took a step closer to the huge screen. The Koniggratz was definitely heading for the ring. Did that necessarily mean Meyers knew they were inside the ring? Maybe Ludendorff had a point.

“I need Victory,” Maddox muttered. “I need the rest of my people.”

“What was that, my boy?” Ludendorff asked. “You’re mumbling. I can’t understand you.”

Maddox faced the professor. “If you could—see if you can…refine your accuracy as to the null region’s whereabouts in the Solar System.”

“Yes. That’s reasonable. I’ll do just that. What will we do if the Koniggratz docks with the ring?”

“You hold up your end, Professor. I’ll take care of the Koniggratz.”

“Care to tell me how?”

“In truth, I don’t know yet,” Maddox said. “But once I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

***

Maddox started pacing again. The agitation in him had grown. He was in the null region. He was in the ring. The Hormagaunt held Victory and the rest of the crew hostage for his good behavior—according to the Hormagaunt’s viewpoint. Now, the Koniggratz headed here.

How are they withstanding the nullity? Maddox asked himself. He stared thoughtfully at the ex-Star-Watch battleship. Did the Koniggratz heading here mean Meyers knew their exact location? Or could it mean that Meyers had learned about Surbus’s attacks and figured this general area was the best place to start searching for her enemies?

“Yes,” Maddox said softly.

Abruptly, the floor began to quiver.

The captain whirled around and marched to Meta and Ludendorff. “What’s happening?”

“That should be obvious, my boy,” Ludendorff said. “The ring is activating.”

“To send the Koniggratz to normal space?” asked Maddox.

“That’s one possibility.”

“The other?”

“According to these instruments, the null region has parked in the Asteroid Belt. Do you remember—?”

“Has Meyers picked an asteroid?”

“Not yet, not yet, my boy. I think she’s having trouble deciding on the type.”

“What do you mean?” Maddox asked.

“The belt consists of three primary categories of asteroids,” Ludendorff said in a didactic tone. “There are the C-type or carbonaceous asteroids. They’re carbon-rich and dominate the belt’s outer region. That puts them farther from her target. They comprise over seventy-five percent of the visible asteroids. The S-type or silicate asteroids are more common toward the inner region of the belt, within two point five AUs of the Sun, which is closer to target. They’re about seventeen percent of the asteroid population. Lastly are the M-type or metallic asteroids. Those would make the best missiles for her purposes. They’re about ten percent of the population and are mostly composed of nickel-iron. The closest are two point seven AUs from the Sun. Now, if she’s—”

“Please, Professor, that’s quite enough thank you.”

“Humph,” Ludendorff said. “I’m simply trying to educate you on the subject. Oh,” he said, glancing at a panel. “I believe Meyers has picked her asteroid.”

“And…?” asked Maddox.

“Let me calculate quickly—yes, it’s as I suspected. She has picked an M-type. In this instance, I believe it is 16 Psyche.”

“What?”

“The name of the asteroid,” Ludendorff said. “It’s over two hundred kilometers in diameter, making it a heavy and solid nickel-iron asteroid. It should be sufficient to crack and smash the Earth into pieces at a single blow.”

Maddox wanted to tear his hair out, as the professor sounded so calm about all this.

“Ah…” Ludendorff said. “The Accelerator is quickening.”

The shaking in the control room worsened.

“Professor,” Maddox shouted. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

“Like what?”

“Like stopping this from happening,” Maddox said. “Meyers is targeting Earth from the Asteroid Belt with a major missile that will travel at one-quarter light-speed. If we don’t have battleships in place, a lot of them, she’s going to destroy the Earth.”

“Confound it, you’re right. I should have been concentrating on a different part of the controls.” Ludendorff stood, looking around as if he were trying to decide. “Over there,” he said, marching there.

Maddox glanced at the main screen. He noticed something. It appeared the Koniggratz no longer advanced, but had slowed its velocity to a crawl. What was the crew seeing from the Koniggratz? Maddox would have dearly liked to know.

-66-

Dag sat forward on the captain’s chair of the Koniggratz as he studied the ring on the main screen. The thing glowed with a hellish red color and it tore open a way to normal space. This time, visible blue tractor beams pulled a huge asteroid from normal space, dragging it toward the glowing ring.

Despite the grimness of the nullity, Dag didn’t feel the horrible effects as much as before. That must have something to do with the Queen’s ruby-topped baton. The same couldn’t be said for the bridge crew, although few had complained. He could tell their state by the sour looks on their faces.

The huge asteroid floated toward the ring. It was astonishing to see the ease with which the ring did this. Here was truly fantastic alien technology. Nothing in human science could compare to this. The asteroid must weigh an incredible amount, yet the ring pulled it into the null region, the opening to normal space closed, and the asteroid settled in what looked like the exact center of the Inertialess Accelerator.

The blue tractor beams vanished. Now, though, the inner sides of the ring began to flash with a Christmas-light mixture of colors. Those lights bathed the waiting asteroid, and it jiggled, it seemed, in the center of the great Accelerator.

“Sir,” the comm person said. “The Queen would like a word with you.”

Dag rose from his seat and staggered to the comm. He saw Meyers staring out of the comm screen. She was radiant indeed, a beauty beyond compare.

“Dag, Dag, do you see the asteroid?”

“I see it,” he said.

“This is partly your doing, your awesome success. I’m greatly pleased with you, Dag. After I fire 16 Psyche at Earth, you will continue your search for Maddox. I will not use the Accelerator again if I don’t have to, which I shouldn’t, as the asteroid should pulverize the Earth for me.”

“Is there any danger for us out here?”

“None,” the Queen said. “Just make sure you stay on the right side of the Accelerator.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Oh, Dag, this is a glorious moment. I so hate those on Earth. I hate Star Watch and the Commonwealth of Planets that makes Star Watch possible. I am about to begin the great slaying. How I have longed for this event. I…I wish to share it with you, my Champion.”

Dag stood straighter, his heart pounding with pleasure. This was his Queen. Soon, very soon, he would have her naked beside him as they entwined in love.

“Watch now, Champion, as I unleash 16 Psyche at the arrogant bastards of Star Watch.”

Dag did watch, but it didn’t happen right away. He imagined it took great calibrations and calculations to make sure the asteroid flew the right path. Where did the Inertialess Accelerator get the needed power? Surely, it must come from the heavy planet, from the core power source.

The ring began to glow with the hellish red color again. An opening appeared. It was a rip from one universe to another. The multicolored flashes intensified along the entire inner ring. There was a bigger flash, a Sunlight flare of light, and blue pressor beams shoved the asteroid out of the ring and toward the opening.

It was majestic and awe-inspiring. Dag felt goosebumps run up and down his arms. The asteroid gained speed. It moved so damned fast that Dag could hardly credit his eyes. Yes, the asteroid flashed out of the opening and into normal time and space.

At that point, the opening closed, and the mighty Inertialess Accelerator started powering down, as it had once more done its assigned task as created many millennia ago.

-67-

Asteroid 16 Psyche flew from its former location in the Asteroid Belt for Earth. It was a little over 200 kilometers in diameter, a planet killer if there ever was one. Given Earth’s present location and where it would soon be, and the distance from the spot in the Asteroid Belt, it came to almost exactly three AUs.

That meant, from its launching, 16 Psyche needed a mere 6,000 seconds to reach Earth. That translated into one hour and forty minutes, as the giant missile traveled at one-quarter light-speed, or 75,000 kilometers per second.

Fortunately, for Earth, for Star Watch and the Commonwealth, Lord High Admiral Cook had anticipated something like this. His strategy team had been going over possibilities for weeks.

Firstly, Patrol vessels scoured the general area where Victory had shoved its way into the null region. Those Patrol vessels scanned and scanned, using the tiny signals to the universe that told the location of the mobile null region.

Secondly, Cook had pulled his Conqueror-class battleships back to Mars, even as he’d summoned more vessels to race to the Solar System. He did not have the Grand Fleet, but he did have a powerful complement of Star Watch’s best battleships ready to stave off any icy planetesimal or asteroid attacks upon humanity’s homeworld.

Thirdly, the personnel in Pluto, operating the Builder Scanner, were on high alert, and had been for some time. They were in constant touch with the Lord High Admiral, via their Long-Range Builder Communicator.

The Patrol vessels caught the null region’s movement as it left at high speed.

The Patrol team contacted Pluto, and soon, the Builder Scanner watched for the telltale signs, like looking for a submarine causing the tiniest ripples on the ocean’s surface.

Star Watch went on highest alert. The Conqueror-class battleships, twenty-six of them, congregated in orbit around Mars, ready to use their star-drive jump to move into position.

The people in Pluto missed Meyers grabbing 16 Psyche. Nor did they spot the flashing asteroid right away. A Star Watch sensor team on the dwarf planet Ceres found it, sending a message as fast as possible.

What it meant in this instance, because of the delay of stellar messages, was that Star Watch lost a precious thirty-two minutes before the Lord High Admiral learned what was happening.

More minutes were lost as messages flashed to Mars. They took time, the speed of light, which today mean only four times faster than 16 Psyche as it sped toward a collision with Earth.

Finally, with fifty-two minutes until impact, the Conqueror-class battleships began leaving Mars orbit for the rendezvous point selected by the Lord High Admiral.

If Star Watch hadn’t been on high alert, with data received from Strand via the Emperor through Captain Maddox, there would have been no chance of saving Earth.

Now, twenty-three of Star Watch’s best battleships—with modifications from the heavy elements from the Chthonian planet in the Alpha Centauri System—popped into position between 16 Psyche and Earth.

The M-type asteroid was coming fast, and it was composed of nickel-iron. Nevertheless, the same basic tactic as before was put into effect.

This time, instead of nuclear-tipped missiles, the battleships launched slews of antimatter missiles. They were not all going to hit at once, but they were going to strike in staggered sequence as far away from Earth as possible. If they had gotten word twenty minutes earlier—even ten minutes earlier—it would have made a big difference. But the battleship captains had what they had.

The first antimatter missile struck. It did minimal damage to the overall asteroid, as 16 Psyche was over two hundred kilometers in diameter. In mass, it dwarfed the combined battleships coming against it.

The antimatter missiles kept hitting, blasting the M-type asteroid with kinetic force. At this point, the battleships were attempting to move 16 Psyche off course, but its mass was great, and they hadn’t been able to get to it soon enough.

The race became tight and frightening.

“Use mass antimatter missiles,” the Lord High Admiral ordered.

The missiles flew, and now, battleships started beaming the asteroid from the sides, burning away mass as much as they could in the few minutes given them.

In the end, it would not have worked except for a single flaw. This time, the flaw was in 16 Psyche, a major tectonic crack inside the asteroid fashioned so long ago. The repeated hammerings from the antimatter missiles and the disruptor beam assaults caused the crack to lengthen until 16 Psyche split into two uneven parts.

The Lord High Admiral gave fast orders, and the captains on the spot reacted almost instantly. They concentrated the last of their antimatter missiles on the larger chunk, and they moved it a little more off course, a little more—the two pieces collided, and that might have saved the day. The pieces hit and caromed off each other like billiard balls. That shifted each chunk just enough.

In this instance, the smaller piece passed the Earth by 732,000 kilometers. Fortunately, the Moon was on the other side as it passed, and it never came near colliding with it. The larger piece passed the Earth by a mere 349,000 kilometers. That was a shave, and it created anomalies on Earth in passing. Luckily, it too passed while the Moon was on the other side of the planet. If it hadn’t, millions and possibly billions would have died on Earth that day.

The first major asteroid assault on Earth had failed, but it had taken eighty-four percent of the battleships’ antimatter missiles and burned out seven Conqueror-class engines due to the intense beaming. It would take time to replenish those missiles and fix those engines. Until such time, Earth was open to another asteroid attack.

-68-

Maddox had no idea if 16 Psyche had succeeded in demolishing the Earth nor not. The only indication that maybe it had not was that the ring began to shiver as it had earlier.

“No, no,” Ludendorff said, who stared at the other wall. “It’s happening again. I need more time. I can’t figure it out quickly enough.”

“What’s happening?” Maddox asked.

“You can see as well as I,” Ludendorff said. “The ring is activating. Meyers is going to launch another asteroid.”

“Where are we? I mean the null region.”

“We’ve moved to the Inner Asteroid Belt,” Ludendorff said. “I think she’s going to grab and launch an S-type asteroid. There may be a benefit in that for her, as it will reach the Earth sooner from launch than 16 Psyche did, or it will if the first asteroid failed.”

Maddox stood in shock. His grandmother and the Lord High Admiral lived on Earth. So many of his early memories came from his years on Earth. Could Star Watch survive the destruction of humanity’s homeworld? Could the Commonwealth of Planets?

Maddox shook his head. He didn’t want to have to discover the answer. “Professor!” he shouted. “Can’t you—”

“No, no,” Ludendorff half screamed. “Don’t you ever listen to me? I haven’t had enough time to know how to drive the null region.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Maddox said. “Can you shut down the ring?”

“What? No. Alas, not yet,” Ludendorff said. “I’m still working on it.”

“The shaking is getting worse,” Meta said. “I think the ring is making another opening, pulling in another asteroid.”

“Confound it,” Ludendorff said. “Confound it to Hades and the Tartarus Underworld. This is too much, just too—”

“Professor!” Maddox shouted, interrupting the man. “Can you do anything to the ring to spoil their shot?”

“What do you mean, my boy? Do what exactly?”

Maddox bent his head, thinking, trying to come up with a concept. Then, he heard it.

REVERSE THE POLARITY.

Maddox clutched at his helmet, falling to his knees. His head pounded with pain. He knew what had happened. The Hormagaunt had sent him a message, and it had nearly slain him, maybe blown fuses in his mind.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Meta asked, as she rushed to and knelt beside him.

Maddox groaned. He did not like hearing that in himself. He struggled to a sitting position. He could hardly see. It was as if he had a migraine headache and it had blackened his vision.

“If only I knew what to do,” Ludendorff said. “This is a calamity, a calamity.”

“Reverse the polarity,” Maddox whispered.

“What is that, my love?” Meta asked. “What did you say?”

Maddox repeated the words.

“What does that mean?” Meta asked.

“Tell…tell the professor what I said.”

Meta straightened. “Professor,” she said, “what would happen if you reversed the polarity?”

“Eh?” Ludendorff asked. “What does that even mean?”

“No, please don’t speak again,” Maddox whispered.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Meta asked.

“That wasn’t meant for you or the professor but for the creature out there,” Maddox whispered. He summoned his reserves of strength and struggled to his feet. Swaying, looking around, he spied Ludendorff as a tiny speck. Maddox staggered toward the Methuselah Man.

“What’s up, my boy? You don’t seem well.”

Maddox reached the old codger and grabbed him by the bulky photon suit. “Listen to me,” the captain whispered. “When the rock is in the Accelerator, you must reverse the polarity.”

“And…?”

“And that should send the asteroid straight at the heavy planet instead of Earth.”

There was a moment of silence, perhaps even stunned silence.

“Eureka and more,” Ludendorff said softly. “That is brilliant, my boy, simply off the charts wonderful. How did you ever think of that?”

“Hormagaunt…” Maddox whispered.

“What’s that? The beast told you—no, no, we cannot do it then. Don’t you see? The Hormagaunt must be using you. If the heavy planet is gone—”

“Professor,” Maddox whispered, as the strength oozed from him due to the pounding headache. “We take one challenge at a time. If we don’t stop Meyers, she’ll destroy the Earth.”

“But if we release the Hormagaunt, my boy…”

“One is assured destruction. The other is merely a possibility,” Maddox said.

“You ask so much, so very much of me.”

“We don’t have much time,” Meta said. “I think the ring already has the asteroid in place.”

“Damnation!” Ludendorff howled, shaking his gloved fists in the air. “But I know how to do this. I think I do. The question is, should I do it?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t try.”

“Don’t threaten me, my boy. I must decide for myself. I must think.”

“You don’t have any more time, Professor,” Meta said. “Please, do it or the Earth is finished.”

“Can you give me one good reason why I should?” Ludendorff asked in a stricken voice.

“You’re part of the crew,” Meta said. “You belong with us. The captain has made his decision—”

“And if he’s wrong?” Ludendorff asked, interrupting.

“As the captain, he bears the responsibility,” Meta said.

“No, no, I cannot accept that,” Ludendorff said. “I will not shift my responsibly in the matter because of a man’s mere title.”

“Then show me how to do it,” Meta said. “I’ll reverse the polarity.”

The Methuselah Man stared at her, stared a little longer. “Maddox does not deserve a wonder like you. You are too convincing, Meta dear.” Ludendorff turned toward a bank of panels, and he lurched there. He typed, he manipulated, and he groaned several times. With an oath, Ludendorff pitched off his gloves, typing madly and making weeping noises the entire while.

Maddox sat up as the professor worked. He took off his helmet, and nearly passed out. Meta knelt by him and rubbed his forehead with her gloved fingers. Slowly, the terrible pounding in his brain began to dissipate.

“Here,” Meta said, “put this back on.”

Maddox let her put the helmet back on his head, and he twisted and latched it into place. He breathed deeply, and he no longer felt like puking.

“This is it,” Ludendorff said. He hunched over a panel, with his gloved right hand hovering over a control. “This is the moment. Heaven forgive me please.”

The Methuselah Man pressed a switch, and the shaking in the room ceased immediately, only to start again, and much worse than before.

-69-

In the subterranean control chamber on the heavy planet, Lisa Meyers watched Phelps and his team at work. They seemed feverish, and they had begun giving each other wild side glances. Phelps took out a rag, wiping sweat from his face and neck. He started shaking his head.

“You,” Meyers said. “What’s wrong? Why are you so nervous?”

Phelps turned toward her with an agonizing glance. “I don’t understand this. It shouldn’t do this.”

Meyers became concerned, and she approached the weasel of a technician, the best of the ones she’d left with Surbus those many months ago. She motioned so her soldier guards followed directly behind her.

“Is the Inertialess Accelerator about to fire the asteroid?” she asked.

“Yes, yes—”

“Then what’s the problem? Can’t you target properly?”

“Your Highness!” Phelps cried. “The asteroid is about to fire at us.”

“What are you saying?” Meyers shouted.

“The polarity reversed. I don’t know how. We’ve been trying to re-reverse it, put it back to normal. But it’s as if someone is fighting us on the Accelerator itself.”

“Maddox!” Meyers said. “This is his doing. I know it. Work harder, you fool. If the asteroid fires at us—”

“Destruction, Highness,” Phelps said. “We’ll all die.”

Meyers backed away from Phelps as her heart pounded. This couldn’t be happening. That bastard, that gadfly Maddox was doing it again. “You must stop it!” she shrieked.

“I’m trying,” Phelps sobbed, “but nothing’s working.”

“When will it launch?”

“Seventy-three seconds,” Phelps said. “We’re doomed. We’re doomed. We’re all going to die.” And he collapsed into a heap, weeping hysterically.

Meyers stared at him, his collapse confirmation of what was going to happen. If she was caught down here when the asteroid struck—Meyers whirled around and sprinted. She crossed the room and dashed down the hall to her Merovingian guards.

“A portal,” she shrieked. “Make a portal to the hauler. Do it immediately or we’re dead.”

The captain of her guards kept his head. He’d protected her for several years already. Grabbing his ready men, he roared at them to construct a portal to the hauler.

They had done this many times, and they connected lances and plugged that arrangement into emergency power packs.

“Hurry,” Meyers shouted, no longer shrieking and red-faced. If anyone could do this, it would be her elite guards.

“We’re ready,” the guard captain said.

Meyers swallowed a lump down her throat. Even if she could reach the hauler—she quit thinking negatively and raced at the portal, diving through…

***

Dag stood by the bridge comm, frowning at the shouted message he’d received from the heavy planet. It was something about a disaster, reversed polarity in the ring.

He turned to the main screen, eyeing the giant silver ring—red-hot this moment. The asteroid in the center quivered. It was half the size of 16 Psyche. According to the chronometer, it was about to eject back into normal space as it raced at the Earth.

“Reversed polarity,” Dag said. “Did they mean it’s going to fire the other way?” His eyebrows shot up. Dag finally understood. “Rock!’ he shouted. “Emergency procedures! Get out of the ring’s way.”

Rock turned back to him from the helm.

“The asteroid is going to launch at the heavy planet,” Dag shouted. “We don’t want to be in its way.”

Rock’s face crumbled for just a moment as understanding lit his eyes. He turned to his pilot board and began to manipulate like mad.

Dag walked like a condemned man to the captain’s chair. “Maddox,” he whispered. “This must be his doing.” Dag slumped into his seat as the Koniggratz began to expel propellant from its thrusters. The Bismarck-class battleship began maneuvering out of the ring’s way.

In these last few seconds, it seemed as if the ship moved sluggishly. Maybe it was the nullity affecting Dag’s brain.

The ring glowed redder, and blue pressor beams appeared. They shoved the asteroid, shoved it in the direction of the heavy planet in the null region. It was firing the wrong way.

“Faster!” Dag shouted.

“I’m accelerating as fast as we can,” Rock shouted back.

The people at their posts watched in frozen horror as the asteroid left the cradle of the Inertialess Accelerator. The blue pressor beams pushed it faster and faster. The S-type asteroid lacked inertia, was lighter than a feather, almost acting like light itself as the pressor beams gave it one-quarter light-speed. In those precious seconds, the inertia returned to the accelerated object. That was part of the Builder process as envisioned so many millennia ago.

The Koniggratz barely lifted out of the way as the one-hundred-kilometer asteroid flashed for the heavy planet. The distance was as nothing. The asteroid plowed at one-quarter light-speed, missing the orbital spaceships, but hammering the great metal object of the planet.

The collision shattered the silicate asteroid, but it horribly dented the heavy metal planet as it smashed against it with terrific force. The asteroid moved the badly dented heavy planet, pushing it away from the ring and away from its position in the null region that it had held for millennia.

Inside the heavy planet, things were much different. The shock created quakes, broke millions of objects and burst tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of bulkheads.

The people two kilometers underground all perished in the shaking, smashing, crashing destruction. Rocket warheads ignited. Fusion generators exploded and ancient machinery smashed, crashed and disintegrated in the planetary demolition.

During the terror of it all, the giant hauler activated. Unfortunately, debris flew everywhere from the former asteroid, and several of the smallest pieces sheered into the hauler, breaking off parts of the mighty vessel.

The hauler did not explode. Some space-suited people tumbled into space, caught in the null region as their limbs failed uselessly. Was one of those Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers?

It was impossible to know.

The badly dented heavy planet was moving, leaving the debris, the ring and the once orbital spaceships behind. Smoke began to pour from planetary cracks. Methane winds tried to dissipate the smoke, but more boiled and billowed out of cracks around the entire metal world. Fires raged below. Nuclear and antimatter explosions flared. It was mayhem to the ancient construct. If the world itself was still intact—in one piece, anyway—the vast majority of the technological prizes it had held only moments ago were gone or in the process of burning or melting out of existence…

-70-

Maddox, Meta and Ludendorff stared at the large screen in the Ring Accelerator’s control chamber. Maddox stood at the screen controls, switching views so they could see various outcomes.

They saw the Koniggratz barely avoid annihilation. They saw the giant hauler split into pieces. They witnessed the heavy planet leaving as it began to roll like a wild twirling ball. If nothing else, the increasing rotation would likely slaughter any survivors in the planet’s subterranean chambers.

“I did it,” Ludendorff said, sounding sad.

“Better the heavy planet than the Earth,” Maddox said in a clipped voice.

“Easy for you to say,” Ludendorff complained, “as you’re not responsible for all the destruction.”

“Of course, I’m responsible,” Maddox said. “It was my suggestion to reverse the polarity.”

“No, it was the Hormagaunt’s suggestion.”

“I passed it along to you, which means I bear responsibility for it. Without me as the conduit, nothing would have taken place.”

Ludendorff turned to him. “Are you trying to take credit for the victory?”

“Please, Professor,” Meta said. “You must give it a rest. Don’t be so bitter all the time.”

“Do you think I’m bitter?”

“Oh, yes, very much,” Meta said. “It’s been eating you alive…for as long as I’ve known you. You should release it and live life for real.”

“Bitter,” Ludendorff said, as if surprised. “Am I truly bitter? I wonder if that’s so.”

Maddox had grown tired of the conversation and was manipulating the screen. The planet left the area. The—

“Look, is that a QX-Tube?” Maddox asked.

“By George, you’re right,” Ludendorff said, looking up. “That would indicate Meyers survived the asteroid.”

“What ship is making the tube?” Meta asked.

“Captain, if you would be so good as to center on the hauler,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox did just that. There was a glow of power from the largest piece of the broken hauler. Engines were obviously online, and a great tube appeared, departing from the null region, it would seem.

Another of the ships—an ex-Star Watch heavy cruiser—headed for the tube opening.

Maddox turned to Ludendorff. “Can you activate any of the ring’s cannons?”

Ludendorff threw up his gloved hands. “I surely haven’t had time to figure that out. I won’t in the minutes I have, either.”

Maddox seethed. Was Meyers getting away? That was bad. He wanted to put an end to her machinations against Star Watch. She was a witch, and far too cunning, too full of knowledge of ancient things. Look at this place, the damned null region. Not even Strand had thrown something like this at Star Watch.

The heavy cruiser maneuvered, building up velocity as it dodged debris. Another huge pile of debris headed toward the broken part of the hauler.

“A race,” Maddox said. “Cross your fingers or pray to God that the piece of debris hits the operative part of the hauler before the heavy cruiser can leave.”

“Don’t be superstitious, my boy. What will be will be.”

Maddox did not reply. He was too busy watching the drama play out before him. It was galling not to be able to do anything about it.

The heavy cruiser reached the QX-Tube entrance, entering the swirling portal and zipping away to who knew where. Seconds later, the drifting tumbling debris struck the operative hauler part, smashing it—causing a terrific explosion.

The QX-Tube wavered, became translucent and then vanished, no longer powered by the equipment in the hauler.

Maddox laughed harshly.

“What was that for?” asked Ludendorff.

“Maybe the tube’s destruction destroyed the heavy cruiser.”

“Oh, I see your reasoning. I would not count on it.”

“Maybe it warped the tube and threw the heavy cruiser into a different place altogether,” Maddox said.

“That idea has greater merit.”

“If Meyers was in the tube, maybe she’s dead or as good as dead.”

“It’s improper to hope someone is dead,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox laughed harshly again. “Then I’m improper, as I certainly wish Lisa Meyers dead.”

“Well…I can understand your primitive thinking,” Ludendorff said. “It shows you have a long way to go before you’re fully civilized.”

Maddox glanced at Meta.

She must have caught the hint. Meta went to Ludendorff, rubbing his suited shoulders. “You’re tired,” she said. “You’ve been working overtime again. It must be a terrific strain on you.”

“Odious,” Ludendorff said in an exhausted voice. “I realize I’ve become weary of all this death and destruction. Maybe it’s the nullity seeping through the photon suit. The suits weren’t meant to operate this long in the null region. Or maybe I’ve been around the captain too long. Destruction follows him like a plague. Why do you think that is, my boy?”

“Clean living,” Maddox said.

“You witness this awful destruction, and all you can summon is a snarky reply? That’s beneath you.”

Maddox didn’t respond. He was too busy manipulating the screen. A premonition was growing in him. He felt the Hormagaunt out there. It was coming, leaving the envelope and heading for the ring. Maybe the professor had a point earlier. They’d listened to the Hormagaunt. It was almost as if the monster had been waiting for exactly that precise situation. Could the heavy planet have been the key to its imprisonment? Maddox was beginning to believe so. Would the creature devour billions if it escaped from the null region?

He kept manipulating the screen as he searched.

“What are you looking for?” Ludendorff asked. “Oh, no, do you feel that?”

“I do,” Maddox said.

“I dread this.”

“I second your dread, Professor.”

“Oh, now you see what I meant, now, when it’s too late for us.”

“No. Now, it’s stage two. We eliminated the threat of the mobile null region. We took care of it. Now, we have to finish this and make sure the Hormagaunt doesn’t replace the Accelerator as the extinction-level threat to humanity.”

“And how do we achieve this miracle?” Ludendorff asked, his voice rising.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“While I have none to give,” Ludendorff said. “You caused this mess. You fix it. It’s all on you, Captain.”

Maddox continued searching, straining, with the premonition continuing to build in him. What would the Hormagaunt do? Would the thing keep its word? Could he save his crew?

The frustration was growing in Maddox, until he saw something, a moving speck in the blackness. Was that the Hormagaunt? He had a feeling they were going to find out all too soon.

-71-

Dag sat slumped upon the captain’s chair on the bridge of the Koniggratz. The metal planet was gone, hurled away by the deviant asteroid. The hauler was demolished, the Queen fleeing aboard a heavy cruiser through a QX-Tube moments before the hauler’s destruction. The grimness of the nullity ate at Dag’s resolve. The bridge crew acted defeated. The battleship was stuck in the null, unless…that was why he sat slumped. He didn’t have any answers.

“Champion,” Rock said. “What are your orders?”

Dag raised his head. Was he the Champion? He didn’t feel like one. He’d followed the Queen, and lusted after her body, and she’d left him like that. It made him sick. It was starting to make him angry. How could she just go like that without trying to save him?

Another part of him realized it had been an emergency. That the Queen had escaped was good. She could come back for them; rescue them from the horrible nullity. But until then, how did they survive in this dreadful place?

Keep your wits, Dag told himself.

Thinking that, he forced himself to sit straight and squared his shoulders. He studied his people: they slouched or sat back as if totally exhausted.

Dag cleared his throat. “The planet is gone,” he said.

Hardly anyone looked up. They were listless, defeated in spirit. He couldn’t blame them. He felt the same way.

Dag forced himself to his feet. “Listen,” he said. “Are you people listening to me?”

A few of the Merovingians looked up at him. They didn’t sit up, though, or appear interested.

Dag wondered what he should do. Maybe he should sit down and give up. What was the point of all this? If they were trapped in the nullity—

“No,” he said. He picked the nearest person, a former Surbus-independent at a console. He strode to the man. The fellow barely watched him. At the last moment, he may have realized something was wrong.

Dag slapped him across the head, knocking the man off his seat. “Are you listening to me?” Dag shouted.

People began sitting up.

Dag kicked the fool in the gut, making the slight man retch and vomit onto the floor.

“Get up,” Dag told him.

The man scrambled to his feet, gasping as he did so.

“Are you quitting on me?” Dag shouted at him.

“N-no, Captain.”

Dag slapped him across the head again, knocking him back onto the floor. He kicked him savagely, and the man screamed. Dag grabbed him by the back collar—the man cowered and whimpered, pleading for mercy. Dag lifted and shoved him back onto his seat. Then he turned and regarded his bridge crew. They were all watching now.

“I’m the Champion,” Dag said in a loud voice. “I’m not about to quit because we’ve had a little setback.”

“But—” the comm tech said.

Dag focused on her.

She cowered, frightened by his glance.

“There are no buts,” Dag said. “We have a battleship. We’re free agents. We’re going to use our ship and fight our way to freedom!”

“How?” asked Rock.

Dag pointed a finger at Rock. “Are you giving up?”

“No, Champion. I just don’t know what to do. How do we get out of the null region?”

That was the question, and Dag knew it. He couldn’t tell them to keep up hope that the Queen would return for them. That was uncertain, anyway. If they were going to get out—they were going to have figure out a means of doing so themselves.

“Are you thinking about using the ring?” Rock asked.

Dag stared at the pilot. That was genius. That was—“Maddox,” Dag said. “We know Maddox was near the ring. Surbus tried to kill him and failed. Maddox must have gained entry into the ring. He must have caused the asteroid to come out the wrong end. That means the ring works, right? That means we can storm the ring and force Maddox to make it work for us.”

A few of the Merovingians glanced at each other. Two of them nodded.

“Where do we board the ring?” Rock asked.

“Damn it,” Dag said. “We have a battleship. We have a disruptor cannon and missiles. Maddox doesn’t have that.”

“What if he turns the ring against us?” Rock said. “I saw some heavy armaments on the ring the last time we went through.”

“What if your legs fall off?” Dag said sternly. “We’re stuck in the null, and you all know it. The only way out is through the ring. Well, by damn, we’re going to take the ring or die trying. We’re going to fight until we drop—or does anyone have a better idea?”

Dag made a show of looking around the entire bridge. A few people dropped their gaze. Three shook their heads.

“It’s settled then,” Dag said. “Rock, head directly for the ring. Sensors, find me something useful—and comm.” Dag turned around to face the woman. “Start hailing the ring. Ask for Maddox. If we can get him talking—that will be key for us.”

“Roger,” Rock said, with renewed life in his voice.

The sensor operator swiveled around and began manipulating his panel.

“Uh, Captain Maddox,” the comm operator said into a microphone. “This is the Koniggratz. We demand that you respond to us.”

Dag nodded, and he returned to his captain’s chair. He’d acted. He’d made a plan and a decision. Now, he would have to see—“I’m going to do this,” Dag said under his breath. “I’m not going to stay in this hell-place. I’m breaking out, and I’m going to do it now.”

-72-

Maddox scanned deep into the null, searching for the Hormagaunt that he felt approaching.

Ludendorff had gone to a different part of the chamber. He labored over something. Meta was with him.

The captain frowned. There was a blinking light on his panel. He tried one switch, another and a third—abruptly, the main screen changed. It showed the Koniggratz heading straight for the ring.

Maddox muttered under his breath, using zoom. The battleship’s missile port was open. The Koniggratz was ready to launch one. What kind of missile did it have, nuclear or antimatter? If the battleship had enough missiles—

“Are you thinking about destroying the ring?” Maddox asked quietly. Right, he thought. Surbus had taken potshots at the shuttle earlier. The others—if Surbus was no longer in charge—would know the shuttle had been near the ring. How would they explain the asteroid attack? They should logically suspect that he’d gotten aboard the ring and had done the worst to them.

“We have company coming,” Maddox said over the helmet comm.

“Yes, I see,” Ludendorff said. “That’s why I’m attempting to gain control of the ring’s defensive net. If I can, the ring will easily destroy the battleship.”

“Good thinking, Professor.”

“Humph,” Ludendorff said, as he went back to work on whatever he was doing.

“Darling, do you see that light over there?” Meta asked.

Maddox turned and saw her pointing at a panel midway between them. “Why don’t you check it out,” he said.

Meta took several jumps in the one-third gravity, halting by it. She tried several controls: words suddenly rang through their helmet comms.

“This is the Koniggratz. We demand that Captain Maddox respond to us.”

Maddox straightened, turned and took several jumps until he stood by Meta. “Can we send a message?”

“Try that control,” she said.

Maddox first used his tongue to click an inner helmet control. It turned on an outer helmet speaker. Then he tried the alien comm panel.

A screen activated, and Maddox found himself staring at a scruffy, frightened-looking woman.

“I’m Captain Maddox. Put your captain on.”

“Just a minute please,” the woman said. She looked away. “I have Maddox on the line.” There were garbled words over there. The woman turned back to the screen. “Our captain is coming.”

“Sure,” Maddox said.

A second later, a huge man came into view. He had a big head, massive shoulders and a deep powerful chest.

“Dagobert Dan?” asked Maddox in wonder.

The huge man scowled. “I’m Dag the Champion. Dagobert Dan no longer exists.”

Maddox noted a difference to the man. He no longer had a look of dull stupidity but the cunning of a clever fighter.

“Are you Dagobert’s brother?” Maddox asked.

“No! I’m he, only better, improved.”

“Oh,” Maddox said. “Did Lisa Meyers modify you?”

“Never mind about that,” Dag said with heat. “I have you targeted. I can destroy the ring anytime I want.”

“Why would you want to?” asked Maddox. “It’s the only way out of the null region for any of us.”

“Which is meaningless to me if I can’t leave,” Dag said.

“Well…” Maddox said, starting to think fast. “We can make a deal. If you surrender to me—”

“Balls!” thundered Dag. “You’re going to surrender to me.”

“Ah… Did you happen to see the asteroid smash your planet?”

“It wasn’t mine.”

“Still, the asteroid went to the planet instead of Earth. Who do you think caused that?”

“I know it was you,” Dag said.

“You’re right, and you still have the gall to ask me to surrender. Don’t you realize that I control the situation here?”

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll launch my antimatter missiles this second.”

“That will condemn you to the null region,” Maddox said. “I can’t believe you want to stay here for the rest of your life. Surely, the nullity is eating at you—”

“Shut up,” Dag snarled.

“Look, Dag, you did well, all things considered, anyway. But your patron fled. I’m talking about Lisa Meyers. She’ll have been lucky to have escaped with her life. She won’t be coming back for you—if that’s why you’re full of bravado.”

Dag swore at Maddox.

“I get it. You’re angry. I would be too if my patron left me behind to die. Maybe I could pull some strings for you and your people. If you cooperate with Star Watch—”

“Hold,” Dag said. “You’re suggesting that I turn traitor to the Queen?”

“I’m suggesting that you save yourself and your crew from misery for however long you can last in the null region. I’m giving you an opportunity. Yes, you’ll have to tell us what you know about the…the Queen. Why should that matter? She abandoned you.”

“I’m sworn to her service. All my people are sworn to her as well.”

“Even after she left you high and dry?” asked Maddox.

“You don’t know anything,” Dag shouted. “You—” He turned abruptly, obviously listening to someone. Dag turned back. “Pulling out another trick, eh, Maddox?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You tried to lull me. That’s not going to work. I’ve pinpointed your location on the ring. And guess what, I’m going to launch this antimatter missile and take you out. I win, Maddox.”

“You lose,” Maddox said. “By doing that—”

Meta screamed, the scream rebounding in the captain’s helmet and breaking his concentration.

“Look!” Meta shouted. “Look at the screen. Is that the Hormagaunt?”

Maddox looked up fast, turning to the huge screen. There was a black thing, a growing and speeding thing, and it was headed straight for the ring. Most odd of all, it towed Starship Victory behind it, having latched onto the double-oval vessel with its two tentacles. How the Hormagaunt propelled itself and Victory through the nullity, Maddox didn’t have the slightest idea.

“I don’t know how you did this,” Dag said. “But I’m not going to take it. Launch the missile!” he shouted. “Launch it at the ring, at their location on it. Let’s watch Maddox die.”

-73-

The missile left the Koniggratz. The exhaust behind the antimatter missile grew as it picked up velocity, heading straight at the ring.

“Professor!” Maddox shouted.

“I’m working on it, my boy, but these controls are harder to operate than you can possibly imagine.”

Maddox stared at the fast-approaching missile. Could Dag’s people have pinpointed his location through their conversation? It seemed more than possible. He’d fallen for one of the oldest tricks.

I can’t believe this.

BELIEVE IT.

Maddox groaned, although the pain wasn’t as severe as earlier. Could that be because the Hormagaunt was closer to him in proximity? No, no, that didn’t matter. He had to—

The missile is going to destroy the ring, he thought at the Hormagaunt.

I DON’T THINK SO, AS I STILL NEED THE INERTIALESS ACCELERATOR FOR MYSELF.

“Professor!” Maddox shouted. “Stop what you’re doing?”

“What’s that, my boy? Don’t fire at the missile?”

“No,” Maddox said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ludendorff said. “I can’t do it anyway.”

“It’s for the best,” Maddox said.

IS THIS HOW YOU WOULD KEEP YOUR WORD TO ME?

The Koniggratz’s missile zoomed for the ring, heading, it seemed, straight at the huge main screen.

“Oh, darling,” Meta said, as she bounded to her husband. “I love you. I dearly love you.”

Maddox kept his eyes on the approaching missiles. “I love you too, Meta.”

And then everything changed. There was a flash of white around the missile, and it was no longer racing at the ring, at those in the control chamber. The missile was gone, and it didn’t seem that it had exploded. It was gone, as if sent elsewhere.

“What happened?” Ludendorff asked. “How did you do that?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Maddox said, and he felt disoriented, dizzy and his stomach heaved.

Meta screamed—

The scream abruptly cut off from Maddox’s helmet comm. The control chamber vanished as well. The disorientation became extreme. It felt as if a thousand ants bit his skin. The pain merged into one miserable sensation.

Then, Maddox found himself before the Hormagaunt. There was inky blackness around them, although the alien face he’d seen before with the viciously long teeth peered at him with an obscene leer.

Maddox realized he floated in space, with the tip of a monstrous tentacle wrapped around his photon suit. He had air tanks, so he could breathe, but—

“How did I get here?” Maddox asked.

I BROUGHT YOU, OF COURSE. IT WAS SIMPLE TELEPORTATION. HAVEN’T YOU MISERABLE CREATURES INVENTED IT YET?

“Is that how you disposed of the antimatter missile?”

I DID NOT DISPOSE OF IT, BUT TELEPORTED IT ELSEWHERE. I NEED THE RING IN ORDER TO LEAVE THE WRETCHED NULL REGION.

“The heavy planet was the device that kept you a prisoner?”

ELEMENTARY LOGIC, CAPTAIN MADDOX. THE HEAVY PLANET, AS YOU CALL IT, HAS BECOME INOPERATIVE CONCERNING ME. ONCE I ACTIVATE THE RING, I SHALL LEAVE.

“And go where?” Maddox asked.

THAT TOO IS ELEMENTARY LOGIC. I WILL APPEAR IN YOUR SOLAR SYSTEM. DO YOU KNOW, CAPTAIN, THAT AFTER ALL THIS TIME I AM VERY HUNGRY?

“I want to talk to you about that,” Maddox said. “I helped free you.”

“NONSENSE, I GAVE YOU THE DIRECTIVE OF REVERSING THE POLARITY. THAT SAVED YOUR PLANET EARTH. I HELD UP MY BARGAIN AND MORE. AT THE SAME TIME, I DESTROYED THE HATEFUL HEAVY METAL WORLD AND ITS FIELD. NOW, I AM ABOUT TO LEAVE THE NULL REGION.

“Are you freeing my starship?”

CERTAINLY, AS THAT WAS PART OF MY BARGAIN. YOUR CREW WILL BE UNHARMED. I CANNOT SAY THE SAME FOR YOUR EARTH, OR THE HUMANS SCATTERED THROUGHOUT THE SOLAR SYSTEM. I AM READY TO FEAST.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re saying these things to torment me?”

AH…NOW WE COME TO THE HEART OF THE MATTER. I KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE HOPED TO ACHIEVE AGAINST ME. YOU HAVE TRIED TO HIDE THE THOUGHTS FROM ME: BUT I EASILY READ THEM IN YOUR OBSCENELY PRIMITIVE MIND.

“I don’t know what you’re talking—”

LYING TO ME IS FUTILE, CAPTAIN. YOU WOULD HAVE FREED ME—KEEPING YOUR WORD—AND THEN SENT ME DIRECTLY INTO YOUR GRAND FLEET. THEY WOULD HAVE FIRED THEIR ANTIMATTER MISSILES AND USED HEAVY DISRUPTOR CANNONS TO KILL ME.

“You want to kill us, so that makes us even.”

I NEED FOOD, FOOD. YET, I AGREE THAT YOU WOULD HAVE KEPT THE LETTER OF YOUR AGREEMENT, ALTHOUGH THE SPIRIT OF IT WAS ANOTHER THING.

“Okay. I admit it. I was trying to trick you in order to save the human race. Kill me instead. Devour me, but please leave humanity alone.”

There was alien chuckling in Maddox’s mind. NO. IT WILL NOT BE SO EASY, CAPTAIN MADDOX. I FIND…MYSELF TROUBLED BY ALL THIS. I FEEL I OWE A DEBT OF GRATITUDE TO METHUSELAH WOMAN LISA MEYERS. HER PLAN TO ELIMINATE HUMANITY BROUGHT HER AND HER PEOPLE TO THE NULL REGION. THAT SET IN MOTION THE EVENTS THAT HAVE LED TO MY IMPENDING RELEASE. YET, WITHOUT YOU, I WOULD NOT HAVE GAINED RELEASE EITHER, AT LEAST, NOT SO SOON.

“That’s right,” Maddox said. “I helped you and thus—”

SILENCE, MADDOX, DON’T TRY ANY OF YOUR VERBAL TRICKS ON ME. I WILL NOT FALL FOR THEM. I AM THE HORMAGAUNT. I AM THE MASTER HERE, AND I LONG TO REENTER THE UNIVERSE. HOWEVER, I AM WARY. I DO NOT WANT TO OFFEND THE ONE.

Who’s that?”

DID I NOT SAY TO KEEP SILENT?

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

NO, YOU ARE NOT. YOU ARE SCHEMING AS HARD AS YOU CAN. BUT IT WILL NOT HELP YOU. I HAVE DECIDED TO TOSS A COIN, AS IT WERE. I WILL LET CHANCE DECIDE YOUR FATE. LISA MEYERS HAS A CHAMPION, ONE NAMED DAG. YOU WILL BE HUMANITY’S CHAMPION. THE TWO OF YOU WILL FIGHT. IF YOU KILL DAG, I WILL LEAVE THIS PART OF THE GALAXY AND HEAD TO THE CENTER, TO FEAST ELSEWHERE. IF DAG KILLS YOU, I WILL DEVOUR THE PEOPLE OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF PLANETS, AND MORE, ERRADICATING HUMANITY FOR LISA MEYERS.

“You call that a coin toss?”

I CALL THAT SYMMETRY AND A WORKING OF FATE THAT MIGHT STAVE OFF ANY FUTURE WRATH FROM THE ONE—IF I SHOULD STUMBLE UPON HIM DURING MY TRAVELS. I DOUBT YOU WILL WIN, THOUGH. DAG IS A GREATER FIGHTER THAN YOU ARE. BUT, TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE, I WILL GIVE EACH OF YOU A KNIFE. I DO NOT WISH YOU GOOD LUCK, MADDOX. I AM HUNGRY AND WISH TO BEGIN DEVOURING HUMANITY. I MERELY GIVE YOU THIS CHANCE BECAUSE…MAYBE YOU AND YOUR ILK DESERVE IT. I DON’T KNOW.

“Where will we fight?”

Before the Hormagaunt answered, Maddox vanished once more…

-74-

Maddox staggered as he appeared in a domed chamber. The Hormagaunt had fantastic powers, but he couldn’t use them flawlessly, it would seem. The captain had teleported a centimeter or so above—

Maddox toed the floor. It was smooth like tile. He looked around, frowning. There were blocks randomly spread around the large chamber. Some of the blocks were stacked on top of each other. A man could climb a lone block and jump up to a higher stack of them. He could also weave between the blocks and block towers, as they formed a sort of maze on the floor.

Maddox examined the dome. It was clear. He could see the great silver ring out there, and there, as a speck, must be the Koniggratz. Would the others be able to watch the spectacle? He had no idea.

Maddox finally noticed that he hardly wore a thing. He had a pair of gym shorts and held a seven-inch blade, a combat knife. Otherwise, he was naked: no shoes, no pants, vest, nothing. That was too bad, as Maddox had already planned to take off a jacket and wrap it around his left hand as a sort of shield.

He examined the knife. It was razor-sharp and looked as if it had been forged from tempered steel. The knife had a solid hilt that might block a knife-slash.

Maddox looked around. He did not see Dag. According to Dag, he’d once been Dagobert Dan. That one, while berserk, had been unbeatable on Tortuga.

Yet, I have to kill him.

Maddox inhaled. The air was rich and breathable. Had the Hormagaunt made this place? Could it cause things to pop into existence? Could the Grand Fleet destroy it?

There was a noise, a thud. Was that Dagobert Dan—Dag—landing in the battle chamber? Would the Hormagaunt have given Dag a speech and something to fight for?

“Maddox,” a man shouted. “Where are you hiding?”

At the mention of his name, Maddox took a knife-fighter’s crouch. What were the rules? The captain shook his head. He doubted there were any. If Dag wanted to yell out his whereabouts, that was up to the big man.

Maddox moved softly like a jungle cat, heading for a block. The top came almost to Maddox’s shoulder. The thing was metal and heavy, unmovable. He put the blade between his teeth—there was only one sharp side—and climbed up the block as quietly as possible. From there, he listened. There was a scrape of flesh against tile that sounded as if it came from the other side of the block maze.

Maddox studied the stacked blocks, and he leapt, reaching an upper edge and scrambling up.

“I heard that,” Dag shouted. “You trying something tricky, Maddox? It won’t help you. I’m going to stick you in the end. I’m going to win everything for my Queen.”

“You idiot,” Maddox shouted. “If you win, the Hormagaunt kills all humanity. Is that what you want? It will devour you in the end.”

A moment later, Dag appeared from between two block towers. The Merovingian did not look up, but peered ahead intently. The man was huge, a head taller than Maddox. He had powerful muscles piled upon muscles. When he moved, he did so like a dancer with silky grace. He would be incredibly dangerous, perhaps unbeatable under these present conditions.

Maddox did not move, lest the slightest motion give him away.

Dag stood utterly still, listening. Then, the Merovingian giant crept forward, searching and moving the knife from side to side. Dag opened his mouth and closed it. He stiffened and looked up at Maddox on the block tower.

The captain reacted at once, jumping for a higher block tower, reaching the edge and scrambling up it. That put him well out of Dag’s long reach.

Dag backed up into a more open area. “Captain Maddox,” he said. “Are you afraid of me?”

Maddox squatted low, eying the huge monster of a man, who also wore gyms shorts and nothing else. Normally, he would have no qualms against facing anyone—well, anyone but for a New Man. Yet, Maddox knew that he was faster than before because of the Erill spiritual energy he’d absorbed. Still, Dag had to weigh almost twice as much as he did.

“Did you talk to the Hormagaunt?” Maddox asked.

“What do you care? You’re going to die.”

“I want to know if I can trust it.”

Dag put a finger against one of his nostrils and blew snot out of the other. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m stuck in the null if the Hormagaunt won’t let us out. You weren’t going to let us out.”

“I was, as my prisoners.”

Dag laughed, and he waved his knife. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to gut Sergeant Riker. He was a lying traitor. But you can die in his stead. I’m going to slit open your stomach and pull out your intestines. Hell, I might loop them around your throat and choke you to death with them. How do you like that?”

“Whiskey costs money,” Maddox answered.

Dag frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Talk is cheap.”

“You’re right about that,” Dag said. “Come on down, unless you’re afraid to face me.”

“That’s funny. I was thinking the opposite. Come up here and die, if you have the balls to try.”

“No thanks. I’ll wait.”

“Then it’s true. You aren’t an idiot. How did Meyers make you smarter?”

“I know what you’re trying to do. It won’t work. I’m going to wait until you come down. Then, I’m going to cut you to ribbons.”

Maddox nodded a moment later. Dag was smarter than before. Maddox believed he was more surefooted than the big man. Basic physics likely mandated as much. If he could get Dag to climb…that would be the moment to launch an assault.

Dag backed away and sat down cross-legged, putting his knife on the floor beside him. The Merovingian crossed his long, huge arms, watching Maddox. “Never figured you for a coward. Too bad you faced me on Tortuga. You might have more balls otherwise.”

Maddox studied Dag, looking for a flaw. He knew Dag was fast, as fast as a New Man. He couldn’t spot any flaws. Maybe he would have to climb down and fight the best he could, hoping to steal a victory in whatever way possible.

“Do you like the Queen?” Maddox asked.

Dag just glared for an answer.

“She’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Screw you, Maddox. I can wait all day. While I’m in here, I’m out of the nullity.”

“Your crew isn’t, though.”

“No. They aren’t. But when I come back with your head, when we win everything because I’ve gutted you…they’ll forgive me for the delay.”

“Okay, Dag. We’ll do this your way. I’ll come down if you back up more and sit down again.”

“In order to give you the opportunity to climb off your blocks?”

Maddox nodded.

“Sure. Let’s get this over with.” Dag climbed to his feet, eyed Maddox perched up on the block tower, and backed away, keeping Maddox in view the entire time. Finally, Dag sat against a wall, a part of the domed curvature of the place.

Maddox exhaled. He didn’t like this. He stood and jumped to a lower block tower. He swayed, but caught his balance. He’d taken his eyes off Dag for a moment, but was glad to see the big man still sitting on his butt, with his arms folded across his massive chest.

“Would have been funny if you slipped and fell,” Dag said.

Maddox did not respond, but slid his butt to the edge, sticking out his long legs. He slid off the double block tower and landed with a thud.

Now, Dag climbed to his feet. Forty meters separated them.

Maddox shuffled around the single block, putting it between them. He held his knife low, wondering how good of a knife-fighter Dag was. Strength wasn’t as critical as speed in this sort of combat, although strength still counted.

The edge and point of the blade, many cuts to make the other bleed out: that was one of the ways to win a knife-fight.

Dag tested his blade with his thumb. He jerked the thumb away, a spot of blood on the flesh. “Hey, Maddox, knives are for chickens. Let’s toss ours and fight this hand-to-hand.”

“You go first,” Maddox said. “Toss your blade away.”

Dag grinned, showing his big teeth. He held his blade against his right thigh and began to advance at a walk. “In a way, this is perfect. I’m the Champion. I was made for this. I’ll hand the Queen victory on a silver platter, with your head on it. She told me to collect your head.”

Maddox began breathing faster. He forced himself to slow down, although he took several long breaths to get the air deep into his lungs. Then he started doing deep-knee bends. He realized that he hadn’t warmed up. He needed to be more limber for this.

“Are you trying to confuse me?” Dag asked.

Maddox straightened, and he debated trusting everything to single knife throw. As soon as he thought of the idea, he discarded it. Dag would be expecting something like that.

“You finished with your calisthenics?” Dag asked.

At that point, Maddox pivoted on his left foot, and he ran, heading into the maze of blocks and block towers.

“You stinking coward,” Dag shouted. “I can’t believe this. You think I’m going to chase you?”

Maddox wasn’t sure, but he also knew that he needed to warm up. He’d been wearing a photon suit for too long. He wanted to sweat, to warm up his muscles. If Dag wouldn’t chase him…maybe that would be all for the better.

“This is your last chance to have some dignity,” Dag shouted. “Come back and face me.”

Maddox did not, as he jogged around the blocks, wanting to sweat and warm up for the fight of his life.

-75-

As Maddox sprinted, jogged and then shadowboxed, he began to get an idea of how he might be able to do this. He would have to get lucky, and it would be better to get lucky at the start of the fight than toward the end. It would save him a critical amount of wear and tear if he could.

In a knife fight, one could win the bout and still end up crippled for life or even bleed out and die.

He quit shadowboxing and knife-thrusting and concentrated on finding Dag again. He was sweating, and it felt good. He was ready and limber. He listened intently and avoided moving near any blocks or block towers. Finally, he realized he needed to use a different method. He went to the outer wall and began to move at a quick walking pace. The wall protected one side so he only had to look in the other direction. He rubbernecked like mad, making sure to look everywhere so that Dag couldn’t sneak up on him or launch an attack from ambush.

Finally, he stopped short, seeing Dag sitting cross-legged on the floor. It might have been the same place as before.

Dag saw him and waved. Then the Merovingian made a production of yawning, using a hand to cover his mouth.

Maddox began walking toward the seated monster man.

“Have you come to fight or flap your yap?” Dag shouted.

“To kill you,” Maddox shouted back.

“Ah.” Dag climbed to his feet, and he picked up the knife on the floor.

At that moment, Maddox had another inspiration. Dag was huge, with massive if flexible muscles. What if he avoided the man for the next two or three days? Might Dag grow wearier from hunger?

No. Maddox rejected the idea. He had a fast metabolism. He would grow weary faster than Dag without sustenance. Even this sweating might have been a bad idea if he was trying to outlast Dag. Sweat equaled water. Maddox had yet to see a ready supply in this chamber.

“You’ve been running,” Dag said.

Maddox began psyching himself up to face the Merovingian. A multitude of things could go wrong. Too much sweat could drip down to his feet and cause him to slip. A muscle tear, a lucky blow from Dag—

Maddox exhaled, trying to expel the negative thoughts. He was good, maybe Star Watch’s best at this sort of thing. He would simply have to win by outfighting the big man.

“You know how this fight is going to end?” Dag asked.

Maddox did not answer. He was trying to enter the zone. He slashed his knife back and forth, closing the distance at a steady walk.

“I’m going to grab your head and squeeze,” Dag said. “I’m going to squeeze so hard your skull will grind together and then apart, and your brains will leak out of your head.”

Maddox slowed his walk, with his heart pounding. Then he stopped, straightened and grinned at the huge man. He laughed.

Dag laughed with him, and he began to walk at Maddox. “I guess you mean to face me. I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about what you said before. I want to get my crew out of the nullity as soon as possible, and I could use some R-and-R after all this hassle.”

Maddox forced himself to relax the grip on his knife-handle. He didn’t want to wear out his forearm muscles. He switched hands and flexed those fingers.

“Nervous, huh?” asked Dag. “I don’t blame you. You have no chance. In fact, if you kneel before me, I’ll make it a swift and nearly painless death. Let’s put everyone out of their misery as soon as possible, eh?”

Forty meters separated them. Maddox felt his gut tighten. This may be the toughest opponent he’d ever faced, man to man.

Dag leaned forward, and he hunched his shoulders, shouting, roaring at Maddox so spittle flew from his mouth. Dag did it again, bellowing so his face began to turn red. Then he shouted like a madman and charged the captain.

Is he trying to go berserk?

Dag charged, building up speed, his eyes bulging outward and the veins beginning to rise all over his body. He clutched his knife so the muscles on his forearm were starkly rigid.

Maddox set himself in a knife-fighter’s crouch. He was light on his toes, ready to move whichever way he needed to. He judged the berserk warrior rushing him like a freight train on greased tracks.

He’s not going to stab me. He’s going to knock me down.

Dag roared, bum-rushed Maddox with a shoulder lowered and picked up speed at the last second. Maddox flung himself to the side, slashing, hoping to cut the big man and start the bleeding.

Their blades clanged as Dag parried the slash, putting a notch on each knife. Maddox rolled on the floor out of the way. Dag rushed past. Maddox jumped to his feet and spun around. Dag slowed down, came to a stop and turned. He was panting heavily and grinning horribly.

The big man didn’t give the captain any time to recover. He started marching at Maddox, his muscles bunched up as he loomed like death.

“Your knife can’t protect you,” Dag said hoarsely. “Once I get my hands on you, it’s over. You got lucky just now.”

Maddox felt heat flush through his body. Dag was too big, too strong and just too damn fast, nullifying the captain’s greatest asset.

Dag roared once more, breaking into a sprint, charging the captain. Once more, Maddox set himself. He was light on his toes, and he knew what he had to do. It might not work, but he had a feeling that Dag had enormous reserves of strength and stamina and would outlast him any day.

“Maddox!” thundered Dag. The Merovingian held his hands like a grappler, ready to rend and destroy, the knife almost incidental to his plans.

Dag neared, and Maddox hoped he was doing the unexpected. He flung himself at Dag. He noticed a slight widening of Dag’s eyes, and Maddox thrust underhand, punching the seven-inch blade into the Merovingian’s gut. The two of them collided, and Maddox bounced off the charging freight train. He was thrown back, but not before Dag grabbed an ankle. Maddox yanked his foot, tearing it free just as Dag chopped, with the dagger barely missing his leg.

Maddox fell onto the floor, Dag stepped on a thigh with crushing weight, stumbled and tripped because of it and fell headfirst, sliding across tiles on his chest. Maddox scrambled up, and an agonizing twinge told him Dag had given him a charley horse in his thigh. Maddox hopped back.

Dag groaned, turned and sat up, panting, glaring at Maddox. “You little bastard, you got lucky, damn you.” Dag climbed to his feet, with Maddox’s knife-handle protruding from his stomach. Naturally, that meant the seven-inch blade had gone in to the hilt.

Maddox saw that, understood that meant he was disarmed, and turned and started hopping away.

“That’s it?” Dag shouted. “That’s how you think you’re going to win? You want me to bleed out?”

Maddox used his fingers to knead the charley horse of his right thigh. He needed his legs working. That was exactly the plan. It might not have been heroic in the classic sense, but a win was a win.

Maddox sensed something, and he turned just in time to see Dag hurl his knife. It came straight and true, and so terribly fast. Maddox tried to dodge—the knife stuck him in the shoulder, making him grunt with pain.

Maddox ripped the knife out. Blood spurted. He clenched the knife between his teeth as he reached up and clapped a hand over the wound. Losing blood could mean defeat and death if he lost consciousness.

“Face me,” Dag shouted.

Maddox used his other hand to take the knife from his mouth. “Goodbye, Dag. Catch me if you can.”

“You’re going to run?”

“I’m going to stay ahead of you until you fall unconscious. Then, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fight!” Dag roared, the knife still sticking in his gut.

Maddox shook his head and started hobbling away.

Dag broke into a run. It wasn’t a sprint, but it was faster than Maddox was traveling. The captain forced himself to hop-hobble as he tried to get his Charlie Horse thigh to start working right again.

For the next forty-five minutes, the two raced through the domed chamber, Maddox barely keeping ahead of Dag. The Merovingian began spitting blood, and he groaned the longer the race continued. Maddox bled, but not too much. It couldn’t be as bad as the bigger man’s belly wound through intestines and such. Surely, Dag was bleeding internally. The Merovingian had incredible resources, however, and the race went beyond the forty-five minutes. Finally, the two men were no longer running, but shuffling and staggering.

“Maddox,” Dag said hoarsely. “That was a cheap shot. That wasn’t a fight.”

Maddox kept hoofing it. He was tired mainly because of the charley horse and because he had lost some blood from the shoulder wound. Why wouldn’t that huge son-of-a-bitch fall down? He was starting to hate Dag, even as he admired the man’s iron will.

“Turn around and face me, you coward,” Dag rasped.

Maddox did not stop or turn around, but he did shake his head.

“I’m going to kill you with your own knife!” Dag roared.

Maddox glanced over his shoulder. He saw the monster man yank the knife from his belly. Blood jetted out. It was obscene. Then, Dag started up, going from a shuffle to a staggering run.

Maddox began hopping and half-running faster.

Dag roared as blood poured from his belly wound. It must have been the pent-up flood that had bled internally. Dag ran faster and began closing the distance.

Maddox gritted his teeth, and he ran faster, too, trying to stay ahead of the Merovingian. He’d gotten his lucky break, and he’d gotten it early in the fight, but he’d been injured as well.

Dag shouted.

Maddox looked back.

The big man slipped from the blood that had poured down his legs and under his feet. Dag struggle to get up, and then collapsed onto his face.

Maddox halted, watching, wary for tricks.

Dag struggled again, trying to rise. He managed to make it up to his knees. Blood seeped from the belly wound. Dag raised his mighty arms, a knife in one of the hands. “Maddox!” he shouted. “You cheated me.”

Maddox just watched. This had to be the most unsatisfying of his victories. “An alien pitted us against each other. This fight wasn’t by my choice.”

“Don’t blame him. You ran from me.”

“Winning is everything.”

Dag glared at the captain, until he slowly began to nod. “Yes, winning is everything. I hate you, Maddox. I spit at you.” Dag gathered saliva and spit a blood mixture onto the floor. “I curse you, Maddox. May you never know peace.”

“You’re too late with that,” Maddox said. “I already don’t.”

Dag swayed, with his features pale. “I would have beaten you in a boxing ring or in a fighting cage.”

“This is real life,” Maddox said.

“Yeah…” Dag said, and swayed more and then fainted, falling to the side.

Maddox heaved a sigh. He didn’t want to kill the man, but this was for all the marbles—if the Hormagaunt would play by the rules and keep its word.

I WILL.

Maddox winced, and he sighed again. Then, he began shuffling toward Dag. Was the man faking? He doubted it. Dag was out, and now, Maddox was headed to him to kill Dag with a cut across the throat. It was dirty low-down fighting, but in this case, he couldn’t be sentimental. Victory meant the survival of the human race.

-76-

Nausea nearly overcame Maddox as he completed the harsh deed. As he raised the bloody knife, as he knelt beside the slain Dag, Maddox disappeared from the domed chamber—and reappeared on the bridge of Victory as he sat in the captain’s chair.

Several people shouted in surprise, including Valerie standing beside the chair and Keith at helm.

“How did you get here?” Galyan asked. His holoimage was fuzzy and kept wavering like bad reception, but the Adok AI was there. “You are covered in blood, sir. Are you hurt?”

Maddox looked around in a daze, seeing his bridge crew. What was that in his hand? A knife… He pitched the bloody blade from him so it clattered on the deck.

“Sir,” Valerie said. She stared at him in shock. “You look exhausted. Are you all right?”

“No,” Maddox said quietly.

“Are you ill?” Valerie asked.

“His shoulder has been cut,” Galyan said.

Maddox frowned and shook his head. “Where are we?”

“Before a giant silver ring,” Keith said from helm. “There was a battleship to the side. It’s gone now, and I don’t know where it went.”

Maddox concentrated, finding it difficult. He’d been in the Ring Accelerator, had faced the Hormagaunt, had teleported to the domed chamber and was now here on his seat on the bridge of Victory. “Do you…?” He licked his lips. “Do you see or sense anything else?”

“By my calculations,” Galyan said, “we are in the null region. I had expected the heavy planet to be near the silver ring, but that is not the case. Have we been asleep, sir?”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

“See, Valerie,” Galyan said. “I was right. There has been a passage of time.”

“How did we get here?” Valerie asked Maddox.

“The Hormagaunt,” Maddox said.

“What does that mean?” asked Valerie.

“Someone, anyone,” Maddox said, ignoring Valerie’s question. “I need a jacket.”

Andros jumped up from his station, hurrying near as he shrugged off his jacket. “Here you go, sir.”

Maddox nodded his thanks, throwing the too-small jacket over his shoulders. Then, he leaned back in his seat. He stared at the main screen, studying the giant silver ring.

“Lieutenant,” he told Valerie, “hail the ring.”

Valerie blinked several times before nodding, hurrying to her station. Before she arrived, the bridge entrance slid open, and Ludendorff and Meta walked in.

Meta gave a gasp, and rushed to Maddox, touching him, removing the jacket and studying his cut shoulder.

“The ring is turning red,” Keith said. “Is that good or bad?”

“Good,” Ludendorff and Maddox said at the same time.

“Sir?” asked Keith.

“Head through the center of the ring,” Maddox said. “I suspect it will take us out of the null region and…into the Inner Asteroid Belt.”

“We were in the Inner Oort cloud before this,” Keith said, as he manipulated his panel.

Maddox nodded.

“What do you want me to say to the ring operators?” Valerie asked.

“Belay the order,” Maddox said. “Meta and Ludendorff are here. I thought they were still in the control chamber.”

“This is all quite bewildering,” Galyan said. “Can you give us a quick rundown of events while we have been unconscious?”

“Not right now,” Maddox said. “Meta, leave it. I’ll be okay.” He put the jacket back over his scabbed and blood-wet shoulder.

“The inner portion of the ring is swirling,” Keith said.

“That is what it should be doing, my boy,” Ludendorff told him.

Keith nodded as he continued to fly Victory toward the giant silver ring.

“How is the Accelerator operating without power from the heavy planet?” Meta asked.

“The Hormagaunt,” Maddox said.

“Did you talk to it again?” Meta asked.

Maddox nodded.

“Is it going to devour humanity?”

Maddox pointed at his shoulder, and glanced at Meta.

“Oh, darling,” she whispered. “What in the world happened to you? You look horrible, spent.”

“I fought Dag. The Hormagaunt’s coin flip,” Maddox said.

Meta frowned.

“Humanity won the flip,” Maddox said. “The Hormagaunt is going elsewhere, to the center of the galaxy, if he’s going to keep his word.”

I AM.

Maddox winced, hunching his shoulders.

“Did the Hormagaunt just speak to you?” Meta asked quietly.

Maddox nodded. “We’re going to be okay. Humanity won another round. I think Meyers escaped, so there is that.”

“Here we go,” Keith shouted from helm. “Hang on, everyone. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

What did happen was that Victory went through the activated Inertialess Accelerator, leaving the null region and reappearing in normal space and time in the Inner Asteroid Belt of the Solar System.

“Uh, we’re out,” Valerie said. “I can feel it. I feel normal again.”

“Where to, sir?” asked Keith.

Maddox sat back in his seat. Starship Victory was intact. His crew had survived the ordeal in the null region. The giant Ring Accelerator was or should be inoperative as an asteroid-hurling device. Dag was dead. The Koniggratz…what had happened to it? Lisa Meyers appeared to have gotten away. The Hormagaunt wasn’t going to terrorize the Commonwealth of Planets. It had left for the center of the galaxy. Maddox hoped he never had to deal with the ancient creature again. There was the problem of Strand, the Emperor and a Builder library fifteen hundred light-years from Earth…

“Head for Earth, Mr. Maker,” Maddox said. “I need to talk to the Lord High Admiral. If there are any loose ends left about this affair…I imagine he’ll be the man to ask.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Keith said. “I’m setting course for Earth.”

“You need to go to sickbay,” Meta told her husband.

Maddox looked up at Meta, saw the glint in her eye and knew she was right. He struggled up, with her helping him.

“You’re worse off than you appear,” Meta said.

“Lieutenant,” Maddox told Valerie. “You have the bridge. I’ll see you—”

“Go,” Meta said, interrupting. “I want you in sickbay pronto, mister.”

Maddox smiled. He’d beaten Dag. He almost couldn’t believe it. He’d saved—he’d helped win the day. It was good to be back aboard Victory. It was good to see his crew, and he was glad that he was alive to be with Meta.

“Let me help you,” his wife said.

“Not on the bridge,” Maddox said, straightening. “I can walk off it myself, thank you.”

“Your shoulder is bleeding again,” Meta said. But she didn’t try to help him while they were on the bridge.

With his pride intact, Maddox made it through the exit. Afterward, he felt Meta’s strong arm around his waist, and he was grateful for that, grateful for his wonderful wife.

-77-

It wasn’t over, though, not for Maddox or the crew of Victory, and not, it turned out, for Commander Kris Guderian.

After the doctor patched him up, Maddox headed straight to the Long-Range Builder Communicator. Valerie had called the Lord High Admiral through normal channels and given him a preliminary heads-up. The null region would not be firing any more asteroids, icy planetesimals or other objects at the Earth or anything else. Captain Maddox, Ludendorff and Meta had taken the ancient Builder weapon offline.

Cook had wanted to know more, but had grown frustrated with the lag of the speed-of-light messages.

Soon enough, Maddox sat in the Long-Range Builder Communicator Chamber. He looked scrubbed and wore an extra captain’s uniform. There was darkness under his eyes, and if one looked closely enough, they would see he seemed gaunt and tired.

“Lord High Admiral,” Maddox said through the Long-Range Builder Communicator, with the microphone in a hand. “The mobile null region weapon is inoperative.”

“Just like that?” asked Cook. “It fired 16 Psyche at Earth. My people barely diverted it enough to miss the planet by the Moon’s distance. Now, you say it’s inoperative?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me how you achieved this.”

Maddox began the story. He’d eaten before coming here, and he’d drunk some strong coffee. Even so, his voice grew hoarse, and he had to stop several times to guzzle water.

At the end of it, the Lord High Admiral asked, “You don’t think some of this was your imagination?”

“No, sir,” Maddox said.

“A Hormagaunt, you called it?”

“This is correct, sir.”

“So…if what you’re saying is accurate—”

“It is, sir.”

“Please don’t interrupt me, Captain.”

“Your pardon, Admiral.”

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes, given these things as true, the null region is still in, or under, the Inner Asteroid Belt?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Ring Accelerator still works, obviously, because you left the null region through it.”

“I believe the Hormagaunt powered it, sir.”

“I heard your story, Captain. I’ve taken notes and recorded everything. That doesn’t alter the fact that given a power source, the Accelerator could be still operative.”

Maddox said nothing.

“It’s a dagger at Earth’s throat.”

“Not in its present condition, sir.”

“That’s a supposition,” Cook said. “Yes, I understand that this heavy metal planet must have had a vast power source. If one could reconnect the planet and ring, one could use the mobile null region again.”

“Those are mighty big ifs, sir.”

“You may be right. This is going to take study and exploration. Star Watch is going to need Ludendorff’s photon suits.”

“He wasn’t the suits’ only inventor.”

“That doesn’t matter here, Captain. I fail to see why you’re staring at trees when the forest is on fire.”

“Uh…sir?” asked Maddox.

“Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers is free. Maybe we wrecked her latest plan, but she’s still out there. You weren’t able to capture her.”

“That is a problem, I agree.”

“But that isn’t what I meant by a forest fire. Doesn’t it seem strange to you that the Grand Fleet did not arrive to protect Earth?”

“I suppose—why yes, sir, that is strange.”

“I’ve had to break up the Grand Fleet to send strong Star Watch flotillas to various planets and sectors. There are insurrections and rebellions flaring up everywhere. That’s due to the damnable ideas pushed by the Humanity Manifesto people who thrived under Fletcher and the alien Liss cybers. Brigadier Stokes has run into countless obstacles I hadn’t envisioned. Josef Becker caused several hiccups… I know you warned me about the man. I’ve since had the Brigadier put Becker back into stasis. In any case, some of the problems might indicate we haven’t slain all the Liss cybers or that someone else had moved into the vacuum and is stirring up many former HMD people. I heard Commander Kris Guderian’s report…”

“She’s with us, sir.”

“I know that, Captain. I know that. Why do you think I’m telling you these things? Part of HMD theory is that sports like you—freaks, they say—cause disruption to the Commonwealth. We’re stamping out HMD influence as best we can. Yet, I’m sorry to say that even at this late date many star bases are still rife with HMD personnel. One of those places is Alpha Sigma 9 under Commodore Smits. Stokes is too tied up at the moment to go there, and I don’t know that I want to see anyone else going there. I certainly want all these Conqueror-class battleships to remain at Earth. What if Meyers suddenly reappears in the null region, with a method to use the Accelerator again?”

“She can’t,” Maddox said. “Maybe a Builder, or a team of them, could fix things in the null region. Lord High Admiral, we rendered the mobile null region inert for years, maybe decades and maybe forever.”

“Humph,” Cook said. “Believe me, I want to trust your judgment. Anyway, you’re a free agent again, and I do trust Guderian. She’s a hero. I always liked her. I want you to go to Alpha Sigma 9 and root out these HMD people. I shouldn’t ask you to do this, as you’re one of their hate objects, but the star base is too close to Earth to allow this infestation to continue.”

“When should we leave, sir?”

“Immediately sounds best,” Cook said. “I know you’ve just completed a rough mission. But Meyers is still loose. I don’t want her to learn about Alpha Sigma 9 and Smits. This is something that should have already been fixed. But with the troubles we’ve been having… Captain, are you up for this?”

Maddox nodded.

“What was that?”

“Yes, sir. I’d like to stop at Earth first and see my grandmother.”

“No!” Cook said. “You’re off to Alpha Sigma 9.”

Maddox sat back, wincing as he leaned against his wounded shoulder. Was Cook giving him this assignment to keep him off Earth, to keep him from seeing his grandmother?

“Is Mary O’Hara all right?” Maddox asked.

“Of course she’s all right,” Cook said, a little too quickly, it seemed.

“Could I speak to her?”

“She’s not at headquarters. Now, look, Captain. This is critical. You and your crew performed marvels in the null region. I’m very grateful for all you’ve done. Now, this is an emergency. We need to stamp out this HMD fire before its blazes into an inferno. Look at the ex-Star Watch ships and personnel Meyers had at Tortuga. Alpha Sigma 9 has been bothering me for some time. Not as much as having 16 Psyche flash past Earth, mind you. But you say that danger is over for now.”

“It is,” Maddox said.

“Then get to Alpha Sigma 9 and stamp out the HMD mess, and make sure Guderian is reinstated with true purpose and power.”

“I’m going as an Intelligence agent?”

“No, as my personal representative,” Cook said. “I’ll wire it to you over the Builder Communicator later. Get moving, Captain. This is important.”

“I’m on my way, sir. You can count on me.”

“Good, and good luck, Captain. I hope you don’t need it, but I’m thinking you might.”

-78-

Maddox stared up at his dark bedroom ceiling. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw Dag roaring berserk as the Merovingian charged, or he saw the man yank the blade from his stomach as the blood began to pour out. Thus, Maddox kept his eyes open, as he didn’t want to see either of those things.

Meta made soft sleeping sounds beside him.

Maddox frowned. It was so strange being in his quarters aboard Victory. It almost didn’t seem right. The nightmare in the null region, facing the Hormagaunt—

“Forget it,” Maddox said, too loudly, it turned out.

Meta smacked her lips, and she reached over, touching him. “Are you asleep?” she asked sleepily.

“No.”

He could hear her part of the bed creak. No doubt, she raised her head to stare at him in the darkness. She rolled over and laid her hand over his blanketed stomach. “What’s wrong, darling? Can’t you sleep?”

“Not so far,” he said.

“What’s troubling you?”

“Several things,” Maddox said. “I think the Lord High Admiral is trying to keep me off Earth.”

“For what possible reason?” asked Meta.

“Maybe so I don’t talk to my grandmother.”

Meta remained quiet.

“Do you think I’m right?” Maddox asked.

“Maybe.”

He exhaled. Now, he’d never get to sleep.

“But maybe Cook is genuine,” Meta said. “He needs help stamping out these HMD fires for good. You’re free, so he’s sending you to Alpha Sigma 9. Besides, Kris is with us and knows the place. If you think about it, it’s a sensible order.”

“I’ll have to talk to Kris tomorrow, see what she thinks about all this.”

“You’ll need your wits, so try to get to sleep.”

“I don’t know, Meta. This time…it feels wrong. We beat an impossible monster, a creature from the dawn of time. We thwarted an incredibly evil and clever attack by Lisa Meyers. And now—” Maddox snapped his fingers. “We’re dealing with a side issue.”

“It doesn’t sound like the Lord High Admiral looks at it like that. The Liss cybers used a lot of people when they were in power, playing on fears and prejudices. The Political Intelligence Division did great harm, too, and so did Captain Becker.”

“All true,” Maddox said, sounding sleepy finally. “I hated to fight Dag the way I did. The Hormagaunt used the two of us. Dag was a great warrior. He deserved a better contest and a better end.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?”

“I ran, Meta. I stuck him—got a lucky strike, really—and then ran out the clock.”

Meta reached up and touched a cheek. “I’m glad you did that, dear. It was the right choice.”

“It seemed so at the time, but doesn’t feel like that now.”

“I know. You’re Captain Maddox. You’re the di-far. Usually, you win boldly and stylishly. This time, you had to fight down and dirty.”

“Maybe all this is getting to me.”

Meta stroked his cheek again. “We need to take a vacation, a really long and extended vacation. You need to rest. This racing about everywhere…you might be burning yourself out. Have you ever thought of that?”

Maddox yawned. He rolled over and put a hand on one of Meta’s cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re my wife. I love you.”

She wriggled closer, moving the blanket out of the way.

Maddox laughed.

She kissed him, and he kissed her. Then, for a time, they made love.

Meta lay back afterward. She fell almost instantly asleep.

Maddox lay down, with his hands behind his head. He was getting tired, and when he closed his eyes…Dag was there, but not as solid as before, and there was no sound. It didn’t bother the captain to have his eyes closed. After a time, Dag disappeared. There was just the dome in the battle chamber. In his mind’s eye, Maddox saw the great silver ring through the dome. He saw the speck of the Koniggratz. What had happened to the battleship? Had the Hormagaunt slain or eaten the crew?

I should have made a deal that if I won, he’d eat Meyers, too. That was a mistake. I’ve been making too many of them lately.

Maddox’s breathing evened out. His wounded shoulder was sore, but healing. He had a task to perform. It might be a good task, helping Star Watch and Kris Guderian. Her hard and clever work in the 82 G. Eridani System had made saving the Earth possible. She needed a break…

Before Maddox could reason out more, he fell asleep.

-79-

Maddox interviewed Kris the next day as Victory left the Solar System on its way to the Alpha Sigma 9 System. They spoke in a lounge area, sipping coffee as Meta took notes.

Commander Guderian told her tale. She had before, but she went into more detail this time. She’d been imprisoned for refusing to denounce Captain Maddox while the Lord High Admiral Fletcher had been in charge of Star Watch.

Maddox raised his eyebrows upon hearing that. “They made this personal,” he said.

“You stood for a fully integrated Star Watch,” Kris said. “I…simply couldn’t take an oath against that—especially as you’ve helped me before.”

“I’m touched,” Maddox said. “Please, continue.”

Kris did, talking about her months in military prison, and later as they began executing people by firing squad.

“They did this in the prison?” asked Maddox.

“Yes,” Kris said. “It was terrifying listening to those volleys from my cell. I was certain they were coming for me next.”

She told him how two prison guards had marched her out of her cell toward the place of execution. A chance comment on her part had changed everything. Corporal Johan called the warden, who ordered them to take her to the commodore. Johan tried to kill her later on the Bombay—Kris shook her head, telling Maddox she was getting ahead of the story. Anyway, they flew her to the commodore of the star base, to Commodore Smits.

She told Maddox about her conversation with Smits, how he’d blamed everything on a Colonel Borneo of the then Political Intelligence Division. Smits had sidestepped any responsibility for his time under Borneo’s dominance. She was sure they had shot the PI colonel in the prison yard, and any others that might have implicated those of Star Base Alpha Sigma 9. In the end, Smits had sent her away to check on the 82 G. Eridani System, with a skeleton crew aboard the Bombay, a frigate-sized science vessel of the India-class. While on the Bombay, Johan and one other named Spengler had attempted to assassinate her, although Spengler had made the first attempt.

“Tell me what happened,” Maddox said.

Kris did, with tears beginning to fall. Meta got up and returned with tissues so Kris could blow her nose and wipe her eyes. Kris told them how she’d killed crewman Spengler and put the stowaway Corporal Johan in the brig. Johan and the other two crewmembers must have perished when the Ring Accelerator sucked them up in the null region while aboard the Bombay. Kris, of course, had escaped in an emergency pod.

“And that’s the whole of it,” Kris said, ending the tale.

Maddox had been absorbed with the story, and he remembered that the mobile null region had taken out the 650 million people on Olmstead. Had there been a connection between Meyers and Commodore Smits?

“That’s all quite impressive, Commander.”

“It didn’t feel like it at the time,” Kris said.

“I would even call it heroic.” Maddox put a finger against his lower lip. “Let me ask you a few questions about how they ran Alpha Sigma 9. I mean while Colonel Borneo was in charge.”

“He wasn’t in charge of the star base,” Kris said. “Smits still had his commodore authority, which theoretically overruled the colonel.”

“Interesting,” Maddox said. “Well, tell me about Borneo and what else significant happened during his time.”

Kris told him everything she could remember. It had been a difficult time, as it had seemed that everyone at the star base agreed with the Humanity Manifesto Doctrine but for her.

“Did any Liss cybers arrive in the system?”

“Who?” asked Kris. “Oh. You mean the secretive aliens from Jarnevon?”

“That’s right.”

Kris shook her head. “No… I don’t remember seeing or hearing anything about Liss cybers, other than afterward when Star Watch smashed them in the Solar System, hunted them throughout the Commonwealth and slew the last of them on Jarnevon.”

“Huh…” Maddox said, as he pinched his lower lip.

“What are you thinking?” Meta asked.

“Just gathering facts,” Maddox said. “I’m trying to build a picture in my mind. Why is Star Base Alpha Sigma 9 such a holdout? Smits appears to have cleaned house, in this instance, by murdering the most powerful HMD people there, sweeping the dirt under the rug, as it were. That should have made everyone there eager to see Stokes’s people give the base the okay. Instead, it appears to have done the opposite. That’s strange, and I suspect isn’t mere happenstance.”

“I can give you a reason,” Kris said.

Maddox nodded for her to tell him.

“Pure pigheaded human paranoia,” Kris said. “The people I worked with loved the HMD ideals. It fit with all their prejudices.”

“Hmm….” Maddox said.

“You don’t agree with me that HMD is monstrous?”

Maddox shrugged. “If I were a typical person, I wouldn’t like the New Men, either. The Spacers as a group do act strangely. Some of HM Doctrine makes tribal sense. People like others to be like them. It’s a natural reaction.”

“You agree with HMD?” Kris asked in surprise.

“No,” Maddox said. “I merely understand that the Liss cybers—when they were in charge—used normal human reactions to divide and conquer. The Liss also twisted prejudices further and began witch-hunts against the other: those like me. I oppose that, of course, and I opposed it at the time.”

“I know. From what I heard, you slew the Prime Saa, the chief Liss cyber squirreled away on Luna.”

“Ludendorff and I slew it together,” Maddox said.

Kris nodded, taking a sip of water.

“Thank you for your time, Commander,” Maddox said. “I appreciate it. I’m starting to build a mental map of Alpha Sigma 9. It will take a few days for us to reach the star system. I suggest you think about what you’ve told me and see if there’s anything you’ve left out.”

“I’ll do that.”

Maddox stood. Meta stood with him, and Kris started to rise. “There’s no need, Commander,” Maddox said. “I’m off to the weight room.”

Kris sat back down, staring at the stars through a nearby viewing port.

“I’m going to check up on Ludendorff,” Meta said. “I’ll file these notes in your computer after I’m done.”

“Thanks,” Maddox said. “Later, then.”

Meta went one way. Maddox went the other, while Kris Guderian sat brooding on a couch in the lounge area.

-80-

The Alpha Sigma 9 System was 28.5 light-years from Earth, meaning, it was near, although not right on the doorstep. It boasted a star base on a heavy water moon circling a large Jovian gas giant in the inner system. As such, that was rare but not unheard-of. The binary system had two stars: a giant cool blue one and a tiny hot white one.

Alpha Sigma 9 was in a strategic location with many Laumer Points and thus with many quick lanes to other star systems. It was a junction system and thereby had several battleships, two Conqueror-class and three Bismarck-class. It had three light cruisers, a dozen destroyers and a mothership with a full contingent of strikefighters as Keith Maker used to fly at Tau Ceti years ago.

Earlier, Commodore Smits had received the message from Lord High Admiral Cook to send all Conqueror-class battleships to Earth. The two battleships had not left. Smits had said they needed maintenance before they could go. The fact that two such battleships might have tipped the balance in the struggle against 16 Psyche…

Smits kneaded his forehead as he sat in his office at the star base, which overlooked a valley spaceport. The commodore was a large man with big hands, a sagging stomach and a ring of curly hair around a bald dome. He also had outrageous sideburns and keen dark eyes, worried eyes, right now.

He’d just received word that Starship Victory was approaching, working its way in from the outer system. He had not received that word from anyone in Star Watch, but from a lean woman sitting in a chair across from his desk.

The woman was pale, had a buzz cut and wore a dark uniform. It wasn’t a Star Watch uniform, at least, not any longer. It showed that she worked for the former Political Intelligence Division. Colonel Borneo had run Political Intelligence at Alpha Sigma 9 during the Lord High Admiral Fletcher’s term of office. Colonel Borneo was no longer among the living, as Smits had made sure he went before a firing squad in the military prison. That had been taking care of loose ends, as Borneo had far too much damning information about him. Smits had gone whole-hog into HMD dogma at the time and had committed many acts that the new administration under Cook might deem…wrong and maybe even vile.

“That’s not all,” the woman said. She had brown pitiless eyes and nonexistent eyebrows. Some might have termed her beautiful in a Gothic sense. It didn’t help that she never smiled.

Smits didn’t remember her from Colonel Borneo’s time. But he was deathly afraid of her, and for good reason. When she’d shown up, he’d ordered his men to arrest her. She’d shaken her head and they had looked the other way. When Smits had drawn a gun to shoot her, the woman had simply told him no. The worst of it was, he’d found himself incapable of pulling the trigger. Finally, he’d slumped in his chair and listened to her news.

“Commander Kris Guderian is aboard Victory,” the pale woman said.

Smits looked up. “What?”

The woman did not repeat herself.

“Kris Guderian died when Olmstead blew up,” Smits said.

“Apparently not,” the woman said.

“Guderian is aboard Victory?”

The woman waited.

“W-Why should that bother me?” Smits asked.

“You tell me. Why should it?”

“It doesn’t.”

The woman sneered. She was good at it.

“Who are you?” Smits asked.

The woman pointed to the insignia of her black uniform.

“Political Intelligence is dead,” Smits said. “Your time is over.”

“Is it, really?”

Smits put both beefy hands on the desk as he summoned his courage. He was the commodore, the highest authority here. He had threaded the needle concerning…“past mistakes,” and before any of Stokes’s transition-teams had showed up. There was word that Brigadier Stokes was having trouble making certain of the Lord High Admiral’s new rules stick, at least in places where HMD had been powerful. Besides, he’d covered his tracks perfectly. None of Borneo’s people had survived the purge.

“You have no authority here,” Smits told the pale woman. “I’m going to give you a hint, which if you’re smart, you’ll take. Run. Run as far away and as fast as you can go from here.”

“I have no intention of running,” the woman said.

“I’ll hand you over to Maddox if you don’t.”

The woman’s thin nostrils drew inward as she drew a deep breath. “Commodore, I’m here to decide if you’re fit to continue your office.”

“Oh?”

“If I find you unfit, you will die.”

“Just like that?” asked Smits.

The woman nodded as she snapped her fingers.

“You’re going to kill me?” Smits said.

“No,” she said evenly. “You will commit suicide due to terrible remorse. Before you do, however, you will write a long confession, highlighting your odious deeds.”

Smits snorted. “Why would I possibly do any of that?”

“Because I’ll make you,” she said.

“How?”

The brown in her eyes deepened, and it appeared she held herself utterly still. It was questionable if she even breathed.

Smits stared in horror at his right hand as it rose from the desk. He glanced from the woman to the hand. Then, sharply, the right hand struck his own face. It did it again, back-handing himself.

“Stop it!” he shouted.

Her shoulders slumped forward the tiniest bit. She blinked, and she shifted in her chair.

Smits’ hand dropped back to the desk. He stared at it as if it was a foreign object. Then his head jerked up as he stared at her. “Who are you?”

She smiled most wickedly.

“How can you do that to me?”

She shook her head. “Commodore, you will look into my eyes.”

“No!” he said.

“Look,” she said, as if threatening him.

Smits looked up into her eyes.

A force grew in her. It was cold and reptilian, maybe even alien. Something passed from her to him. Smits shivered, and he began coughing. That broke the eye contact.

The woman seemed weary, spent, as if she’d run a great distance. It seemed as if she struggled to keep her thin shoulders squared. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Smits said in a rote manner.

“Good.” She stood, studying him. Then, she smiled in her evil way. “You’ll only get one chance, so make it a good one.”

“You can count on me,” Smits said mechanically.

The weary woman turned away, heading for the exit.

Smits did not watch her go, even though she had a spectacular ass. He was staring at his hands, confused and yet utterly sure what he had to do in the next few days. It was his destiny. He had to act to save…to save the situation from disaster.

“Yes,” Smits said, forgetting about the woman but not what the woman had told him to do. He needed to prepare for Victory and its heinous Captain Maddox.

-81-

Instead of finding the personnel here cold and stiff as they spoke via comm, Valerie found the people friendly and helpful, seemingly glad that Victory had arrived in the star system.

Valerie finished speaking to the officer in charge of orbital security. Maddox stood behind her out of range of the comm screen, having listened carefully.

At this point, Victory approached the Jovian planet, passing several strikefighters on orbital patrol. There did not appear to be anything suspicious in their maneuver. It was normal Star Watch standard.

Valerie finished her call and looked back at Maddox.

“Was anything odd to you about the exchange, Lieutenant?”

Valerie bent her head in thought. “Given your latest briefing to us about the star base and Commander Guderian’s observations about Alpha Sigma 9…” Valerie’s eyes widened as she looked up. “They were too friendly?”

“Do you believe that or are you just saying it to please me?” Maddox asked.

Valerie frowned. “I don’t know. Their friendliness certainly wasn’t what I expected.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Maddox turned to go.

“Sir?” asked Valerie.

Maddox turned back to her.

“I don’t understand why we’re heading into orbit with those two Conqueror-class battleships. They failed to leave for Earth as ordered by Cook.”

Maddox waited.

“Those two are waiting together with three older battleships,” Valerie said. “What’s worse, they’re orbiting in a flotilla formation. Particularly at close range, we couldn’t possibly defeat all five if they fight together.”

“And…?”

“Five battleships, sir,” Valerie said, “with two of them derelict of duty for not immediately heading for Earth. I smell mischief or possibly a deathtrap for us, because I certainly don’t think these people are sloppy.”

Maddox still did not reply.

Valerie eyed him. “Am I out of bounds for talking like this, sir?”

“No,” Maddox said. “I quite approve.” He turned. “Galyan…meet me in my ready room.” Maddox headed for the room beside the bridge, entering within and going to the desk.

Galyan appeared. He was no longer fuzzy and no longer showing “bad reception.” During the trip here, Ludendorff had checked his AI circuits and repaired several blown ones.

The little Adok holoimage looked positively eager for duty: he was so sharp and clear.

Maddox put his booted feet on the desk, leaning back in his chair. “Have you been monitoring the local space chatter?”

“You ordered me to, sir,” Galyan said. “So yes, I have.”

“Find anything unusual?”

“Not in the colloquial space chatter sense, sir.”

“Where have you, then?”

“I have detected the very faintest of passive sensors. You might think that impossible, and it should be. However, through triangulating the electronic bursts—”

“Spare me the technical details,” Maddox said, interrupting. “What about the passive sensors bothers you?”

“You ordered me to leave out the technical details, but there is one point I must explain or what I have to say will not make sense.”

“All right, go ahead.”

“As is quite common, there are many moons orbiting the gas giant, the Earth-sized water moon being the largest of them. As an aside, many of the moons are hardly more than small asteroids. One of the moons is carbonaceous, meaning it is primarily composed of carbon with a few rocks and minerals sprinkled in. That means it is a dark moon with a very low albedo. This moon happens to be midway between the water moon and the gas giant and has a fast orbit. According to my records on the gas giant and its moons, the carbonaceous moon was empty and has always been so. Now, however, it is no longer empty—at least, given the electronic readings I have detected from it.”

“What does that mean to you?”

“Since the last report concerning the star base, someone has taken up residence on or in the carbonaceous moon. Due to the electronic readings, I have deduced a passive sensor station there. So, to be accurate, I did not sense the passive sensors. That came after a quick analysis of the electronic readings and a logical deduction as to what caused it.”

Maddox removed his booted feet from the desk and sat up, drumming his left-hand fingers on the wood. “Could the moon be a trap for you?”

“Me, sir? I do not understand.”

“I remember a time you went on a personal scan about a year ago.”

“Oh, you mean when I found Liss cybers aboard the Lolis II. Oh, I see, sir. Do you suspect a Liss cyber infestation here?”

“It has crossed my mind and might explain some things.”

“That is brilliantly deductive, sir.”

“No. That’s using my crew to the best of their abilities and drawing the correct conclusions.”

“Then…I do not understand.”

“I don’t yet, either, Galyan. I’m beginning to feel as if we’ve walked into a trap. Are the perpetrators of the alleged trap a remnant of the Liss cybers or is this more Lisa Meyers’s doing or is it something else altogether?”

“Given a safe and secretive place near the main planet—a water-moon, in this case—I am inclined to believe we have found a Liss cyber holdout. It is reminiscent of their style, as shown by their former stronghold on Luna.”

Maddox nodded. He was thinking the same thing. In fact, he was surprised there hadn’t been more of that throughout the Commonwealth. Well, maybe there had, as Stokes’s teams had repeatedly run into blocks. He still couldn’t believe Strokes had used Josef Becker for a time. It was good to know the mind-manipulator was back in stasis. Hmm… The Liss cybers had been incredibly secretive. More of them might have survived than Star Watch realized, although the campaign to root them out everywhere had been brutal, especially the Jarnevon assault. The question here was, how did Commodore Smits play into all this? Maddox couldn’t figure that part out, unless Smits had become a Liss stooge.

“Is it your opinion, sir, that if we begin firing on the carbonaceous moon, that the battleships will come up to fight us?”

Maddox stared at the little holoimage. “I wasn’t thinking that, but I am now. I appreciate your logic, Galyan. Yes, I wonder if that’s so.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate being appreciated.”

“Enough of that,” Maddox said. “It’s time I spoke to Smits.”

“Sir, may I make a suggestion?”

“By all means,” Maddox said.

“I suggest you have Smits come aboard Victory. I am beginning to suspect it would not be safe for you on the planet.”

Maddox grunted as he stood. “Keep watch of the carbonaceous moon. But on no account are you to personally scout it. Study it from afar and catalog everything you can about it.”

“Yes, sir. May I inquire as to your next move?”

“Exactly as you suggested, Galyan. I’m going to have a little chat with this Smits fellow.”

-82-

Maddox took the call in his ready room, having Valerie set up the interchange. Soon, she informed the captain that Commodore Smits was on the line.

Maddox straightened his uniform as he sat in a seat in the ready room, with a screen before him on the desk. “Go ahead,” he told Valerie via comm.

“You’re with Captain Maddox, sir,” she said.

Smits appeared on the captain’s screen. The commodore was…on a battleship bridge, it would appear. Yes… He was on a Conqueror-class battleship. In that case, it had to be either the Wellington or the Subotai.

“Hello, Commodore,” Maddox said. “May I ask where you are?”

Smits’s eyes were glassy, and he seemed hypnotized, although that changed as soon as Smits spoke. “Maddox, I’m surprised you’re here. What’s the occasion?”

“That’s Captain Maddox to you. I’m here as a personal representative of Lord High Admiral Cook.”

“Oh? I’ve not received such a missive.”

“I’m giving it to you right now. Are you ready to receive the Lord High Admiral’s message?”

“No…not so quickly, sir,” Smits said. “I’m finding this odd, quite odd indeed.”

“Why’s that?” asked Maddox.

Smits smiled, trying to turn it into a hearty one. “You should ask that? I’m surprised. Didn’t they brief you on Alpha Sigma 9?”

The suspicion that Smits was a Liss stooge—or an alien puppet in some regard—grew in Maddox. He decided to proceed upon new lines. “Dear Commodore Smits, I’ve made a dreadful error. Could you excuse me for a moment? I would like to rearrange my thoughts and start over with you. I feel as if we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, and the Lord High Admiral told me to treat you especially with regard.”

“The Lord High Admiral spoke about me?” Smits asked, with worry edging into his voice.

“Indeed, sir, he was impressed with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He has learned about your promptness in taking care of matters. I’m referring to Colonel Borneo and his brethren, and there’s the matter of Commander Guderian and your good sense in sending her to the 82 G. Eridani System. That went far into saving Earth a few days ago. The Lord High Admiral told me to congratulate you.”

“I-I’m honored, sir.”

“You should be, Commodore. You found yourself in a difficult situation and handled yourself admirably. Cook most appreciates that.”

Smits blinked several times, almost as if he was at war with himself.

“I need to rethink this, sir,” Maddox said. “Could you give me a few minutes?”

“Yes, yes, by all means,” Smits said. “Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Maddox said. “I hope to speak to you shortly and in a better frame of mind. Captain Maddox out.”

The captain clicked a switch, and the screen went blank.

“Galyan,” Maddox said.

The little holoimage appeared in the ready room.

“Pay strict attention to all messages incoming and leaving the Wellington and Subotai. Find out which of them Smits is on. And if there are any messages between those battleships and the carbonaceous moon, I want to know that at once.”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox made a shooing motion. Then, he clicked the comm on his desk. “Lieutenant,” he told Valerie, “have Commander Guderian report to my ready room on the double. It’s urgent.”

“At once, sir,” Valerie said.

Maddox jumped up and began to pace before his desk. There was something off about Smits, something he’d seen not-so-long-ago when Captain Becker had been granted “powers” by the Prime Saa.

“Ah!”

Maddox returned to his desk and pressed the comm. “Professor Ludendorff, if you can hear this, please answer.”

A few moments later, “This is Ludendorff. What can I do for you, my boy?”

“Professor, do you remember when we confronted the Prime Saa deep inside Luna?”

“Of course, I remember. It was a glorious occasion. I was the hero that day, slaying the evil monster from Jarnevon.”

“Er, yes…”

“You helped, of course. I remember that as well.”

“You’re too kind,” Maddox said, unable to help himself. “I’ve been thinking about the confrontation. Do you recall the Prime Saa trying to bribe us with information about Lisa Meyers?”

“I remember it as clear as a bell. Why, what’s wrong?”

“It just hit me, a delayed reaction, you could say. How did the Prime Saa know so much about Lisa Meyers’s goals?”

“That’s an interesting question, my boy. Do you think they had contact?”

“I’m beginning to think so.”

“Yes, yes, it makes sense. Of course, the Prime Saa was the head of the Liss cybers. They were nasty alien creatures that were part computer and thus highly logical. Perhaps they deduced some of Meyers’s goals.”

“I’m inclined to think they were helping each other, or perhaps pretending to help each other as they really tried to use the other.”

“That sounds like Maddox logic, all right. And yet, it is reasonable thinking. Meyers and the Liss are both, or they were both, untrustworthy and unscrupulous scoundrels. Does any of this pertain to Alpha Sigma 9?”

A chime sounded.

“I’ll call you back later, Professor. I need to make the next move.”

“Don’t keep me in the dark, my boy. I’m eager to help.”

The door to the ready room opened, and Maddox waved in Kris Guderian. She stepped into the chamber.

“I really must go,” Maddox told Ludendorff.

“Humph. Don’t forget what I said. If this concerns Liss cybers, I want to kill them like we did the Prime Saa.”

Maddox cut the connection, seeing that Kris had taken a chair before the desk and waited. He leaned back. “I just spoke with Commodore Smits. He seemed off to me. You’ve known him—”

“Begging your pardon, Captain,” Kris said. “I’ve met him in person. I don’t know that I know him, though.”

“You know him better than me. That’s the point. I’m going to call him again. I want you to watch him on a screen. He won’t be able to see you. Study how he speaks, how he reacts. Then, I want you to tell me if that’s the same man who sent you to the 82 G. Eridani System.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kris said.

“Commander, you’re a Patrol officer. You’ve been trained to notice things. I want you to apply those skills here and now. In a way, it is Patrol duty.”

“Sir?” Kris asked.

Maddox waited.

Kris nodded. “Yes, sir, I’ll do my best, sir.”

“That’s the spirit. Just a moment.”

Galyan had appeared.

“What have you discovered?” Maddox asked.

“There have not been any messages sent to the carbonaceous moon. However, I have kept sensors trained there, and I have discovered more electronic activity. Then, I remembered the Prime Saa. It once used a mental wavelength to communicate with Captain Becker. I have studied that in my spare time, and the Professor built me a special mind-wave-sensor some months ago. I have used it today, and I have found faint traces of the M-waves, as I’m calling them.”

“Faint?” asked Maddox.

“I cannot be one hundred percent certain,” Galyan said, “but I believe the M-waves originate on the carbonaceous moon.”

Maddox drummed his fingers on the desk. “Good work, Galyan. Continue scanning the moon and scanning the two battleships as well.”

“Very good, sir,” Galyan said, disappearing.

“Are you ready?” Maddox asked Kris.

She’d arched her eyebrows upon Galyan’s disappearance. She swiveled her head fast now, staring at the captain. “Was it hard getting used to that?”

“Galyan’s popping in and out?”

Kris nodded.

“No, not really,” Maddox said.

Kris straightened. “Yes, sir, I’m ready.”

“Excellent,” Maddox said, reaching for the comm controls.

-83-

Smits reappeared on Maddox’s screen. To the side in the ready room, Kris watched on a monitor.

“Thank you for the short recess,” Maddox said. “It has helped me to collect my thoughts.”

Smits nodded stiffly, without the hint of a smile on his broad, sideburn-hairy face. Had those M-waves Galyan had detected been directed at him? It seemed more than possible.

“The Lord High Admiral is quite pleased how you’ve handled a…a messy situation,” Maddox said.

“Captain,” Smits said, interrupting. “I feel I must stop you. I, too, have had time to collect my thoughts. I cannot believe what you’re saying concerning the Lord High Admiral.”

“Oh?”

“I happen to know that Alpha Sigma 9 was considered a hotbed for HMD personnel. Colonel Borneo ran the show back then—”

“The colonel had authority over you?” Maddox asked, interrupting.

“Not precisely,” Smits said. “Now, look here. I know you went through those days just as I did. The HMD people did not like you, Maddox.”

“I’m sorry to be a stickler, Commodore, but that’s Captain Maddox. I feel we must adhere to the regulations—especially at a time like this—”

“What kind of time is this,” Smits asked, interrupting.

“A sticky time,” Maddox said.

Smits shook his head. “There is no stickiness here, not anymore.”

“Exactly,” Maddox said.

“Eh?”

“Don’t you see? You took care of the mess, the problems. Do you think the Lord High Admiral enjoys seeing Star Watch personnel broken or sent to prison? Cook hates it. Colonel Borneo and his ilk—you eliminated the problem for Star Watch.”

“Then why are you here?” Smits asked stiffly.

Maddox laughed. “I’m the Lord High Admiral’s personal representative.”

“So you’ve said. I’ve seen nothing to substantiate the claim.”

“Quite so, quite so,” Maddox said. “I’m prepared to show you my authorization at the same time I pin a Galactic Star on your chest.”

“What are you saying? A Galactic Star?”

“For heroism,” Maddox added.

Smits frowned, slowly shaking his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it does. Listen, Smits, there are rumors concerning Alpha Sigma 9. They’re not pretty rumors, either.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“But the Lord High Admiral has done some deep thinking. Yes, clearly, there are still HMD people running around here. The two battleships—the Wellington and Subotai—never made it to Earth as ordered, for instance.”

“There were reasons for that. They were in terrible condition. Discipline fell apart here with the switch in Lord High Admirals. Confusion reigned.”

“Hey, Commodore,” Maddox said with a grin. “I know there was trouble. Maybe there still is. Cook is trying to straighten things out here the quietest and fastest way possible. I don’t know if you’ve heard that Brigadier Stokes and his Transition Teams have run into roadblocks and secret resistance all over the Commonwealth.”

“I’ve heard something along those lines, yes.”

“Yes!” Maddox said, nodding, winking as if they were two conspirators in this together. “Don’t you see, Commodore? There are some irregularities at this star base, but they’re minor compared to other places. Cook is prepared to look the other way on some key points, provided regular Star Watch activities resume here at once.”

“You’re talking about Memo 274?”

“Precisely,” Maddox said.

Upon resuming the office of Lord High Admiral, Cook had sent Memo 274 to every star base and starship in the Commonwealth, telling HMD people and sympathizers to head for Earth for examination and possible judgment. Those that did not heed the memo would automatically face imprisonment.

“Why is Cook being lenient here and why with me?” Smits asked suspiciously.

“One answer,” Maddox said. “Colonel Borneo.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You acted swiftly, eliminating some of the worst HMD offenders—in Cook’s estimation.”

“I might have had ulterior motives for doing that.”

Maddox made an exaggerated shrug. “Peace and prosperity to Star Watch are what the Lord High Admiral desires. If a few…exceptions are made for certain people in order to deliver the goods to the Commonwealth—the Lord High Admiral is a realistic man.”

“Meaning you’re not going to look into why I had Borneo and others shot?”

“Bingo,” Maddox said, making a shooting motion with his fingers at Smits.

Smits’s brows knit together. “You’re not like I expected, not in the least.”

“I hope that’s good.”

“Yes,” Smits said, for the first time showing a hint of a smile. “Yes, a Galactic Star, you say?”

Maddox opened a drawer, taking out a Galactic Star—his—awarded him many years ago. He showed the star with diamonds to Smits.

The commodore leaned forward, and his eyes shined strangely.

“The medal comes with a promotion,” Maddox said.

Smits nodded, and he rubbed his jaw. “I’m open to that.”

“Excellent,” Maddox said.

“However,” Smits added, “I must make a few inquiries before I can agree to this.”

“Oh?”

“I…I have confederates, unsavory people, if you know what I mean?”

“HMD diehards?” asked Maddox.

“Uh…yes, yes, that’s a good way to say it.”

“If you receive the Galactic Star and receive your promotion, the Lord High Admiral would expect you to take care of these diehards for Star Watch,” Maddox said.

“The way I did to Borneo?”

“Nothing so savage,” Maddox said. “Keeping an eye on them, making sure they don’t create waves…that would be enough for now.”

“Why?” asked Smits. “That doesn’t sound like Memo 274.”

“Because of reality and the troubles Brigadier Stokes is encountering. If you hold up your end of the bargain, the Lord High Admiral is willing to look the other way regarding Alpha Sigma 9—for a time, anyway.”

“Interesting,” Smits said. “Yes. My confederates would like to know about this arrangement. If they agree, I can agree.”

“Wonderful to hear,” Maddox said, smiling. “Peace and stability throughout the Commonwealth—that’s what we all need now. Law and order, no disruptions. You understand.”

“Interesting,” Smits said. “Could you give me, say, several hours?”

“Oh. I’d hoped to conclude more quickly than that. I have to leave for three more star systems. But…yes, several hours. I look forward to hearing from you soon, Commodore.”

“I as well, Captain. This has been quite illuminating.”

Maddox nodded, cutting the connection. “Well?” he asked sharply, all the good humor gone from his voice as he faced Kris Guderian. “Did Smits act like the man you spoke with after your release from prison?”

Kris frowned severely, shaking her head. “No… He was different. When I spoke to him then, he was much smoother and yet more sinister.”

“Anything else?” asked Maddox.

Kris bent her head. “I’m not sure. This may sound stupid. But I almost had the feeling—no. That makes no sense.”

“Tell me,” Maddox said. “That’s why you’re here. I want your impressions no matter how farfetched they may seem to you.”

“All right,” Kris said a moment later. “He seemed controlled, as if others had given him suggestions and he was following them.” Kris winced. “I told you it was crazy.”

Maddox was no longer listening as he rubbed his jaw.

To cap everything, Galyan appeared.

“More faint M-readings?” the captain asked.

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said. “How did you know?”

“A lucky guess,” Maddox said.

“I doubt that. Sir, this time, I could pinpoint the M-rays. They struck the Wellington. I am sure of it.”

“And they originated on the carbonaceous moon?”

“Correct,” Galyan said.

“Well, well, well,” Maddox said. “This is starting to get interesting.”

-84-

An hour passed as Maddox waited. Galyan finally appeared and told him the carbonaceous moon had ceased sending any M-waves. The little holoimage did detect an increase in electronic activity from said moon. He suspected whoever resided there was using passive sensors to study Victory intently.

“I am curious, sir,” Galyan said in the ready room. “Do you think Liss cybers on the carbonaceous moon are directly controlling the commodore?”

“It has crossed my mind,” Maddox said, who had been doodling on a piece of paper as he waited.

“Why would the Liss have caused Smits to shoot Colonel Borneo and others?”

“Not everything falls into place according to this theory,” Maddox admitted. “Perhaps the Liss only arrived recently. Perhaps they did so because they’re allied to Lisa Meyers and decided to make a bold move—by not releasing the battleships, for instance—after learning about Olmstead’s destruction. Maybe this is someone else entirely copying Liss methods to throw us, or anyone, off their trail.”

“It smacks of the Liss,” Galyan said. “How many other star systems are infected by them, I wonder.”

“Good question,” Maddox said. “Now, oh—just a minute, Galyan.” He pressed his desk’s blinking comm button. Valerie appeared on the small screen.

“Commodore Smits would like a word with you, sir,” she said.

Maddox sat up, moving his doodles to the side. He nodded. Valerie vanished from the screen and Smits appeared. He sat alone in a ready room. He was flushed, and he smiled in a remote way.

“Captain Maddox, I’d be delighted to accept the Galactic Star. Would you like the ceremony to take place at the star base?”

“Not really,” Maddox said. “I’m in a hurry and don’t have much time to spend in the system. In fact, our tête-à-tête has proven valuable in that regard. I’m glad we could come to an understanding. The Lord High Admiral will be pleased.”

“You’re not leaving now, are you?”

“No, no,” Maddox said with a laugh. “I want to pin the Galactic Star on your chest personally and give you a private brief and paper by the Lord High Admiral.”

“Oh, well, in that case, the Wellington will serve as well as the facilities at the star base.”

Maddox laughed again. “Commodore, surely you see that such a move lacks dignity. I’m the Lord High Admiral’s personal representative. Victory is as good as being on Earth, in this instance. We can have the ceremony in a hangar bay, as I’m sure you would like to bring many of your people to witness the event. Afterward, we’ll have a drink, a toast, and I’ll make a short speech and then leave for a Laumer Point. As I said, I’m on a tight schedule.”

“I see…” Smits looked at his hands as he sat supremely still. He jerked a little later, and his face flushed while his eyes shined in an odd manner. “How many people can I bring?”

“How many do you want to bring?”

“Three hundred, if I could.”

“Well… that’s a veritable horde, but I suppose we could squeeze them into the hangar bay. The shuttles would have to land in separate hangar bays. It would mean a bit of a walk for them.”

“And to add to the dignity of the event,” Smits said. “I would like permission for the battleships to take formation with Victory. I’ll have some people photograph the vessels, using that on the back of my proclamation later.”

“Now, you’re thinking,” Maddox said. “We’ll make it a grand event, and I can be off afterward.”

“It’s settled then?” asked Smits.

“You do agree to the Lord High Admiral’s conditions?”

“I give my word,” Smits said.

“When can you board?”

“In three hours,” Smits said.

“I’d prefer in an hour.”

“Let’s split the difference, two hours,” Smits said.

Maddox sighed and nodded. “I’m looking forward to this, sir.”

“As am I,” Smits said, “as am I.”

***

Maddox entered the bridge and explained what would take place in two hours.

“Sir,” Valerie said. “Is that wise? If I didn’t know better, I’d think Commodore Smits plans to storm Victory and capture us with his three hundred ‘guests.’”

Maddox pointed at her. “Report to the briefing chamber. Keith, you go with her.”

“Sir?” asked Valerie.

“That’s exactly what I’m expecting them to try,” Maddox said. “It was why I agreed to give Smits the opening. Now, we’re going to have to come up with a counter for their move—so we’re meeting in the briefing chamber, to discuss our tactics.”

Valerie groaned, shaking her head. “You’re not serious…” She looked in the captain’s eyes. There was none of the playfulness he’d shown Smits. “Yes, sir,” she said, “to the briefing room. Come on, Keith, let’s go.”

***

Twenty minutes later, in the briefing chamber, Maddox sat at the head of the table, with Meta, Valerie and Keith on one side, and with Lieutenant Horn at the other end. He was in charge of Victory’s complement of space marines. Kris Guderian, Ludendorff and Galyan were on the other side of the table as Meta. Riker was presently in sickbay with a bad flu, so he was not attending the meeting.

Maddox had Galyan explain about the possibility of the carbonaceous moon being a secret base for Liss cybers and any human confederates they possessed. Galyan listed the reasons he believed it was the Liss and not someone else.

Ludendorff tried to interrupt.

“Not now, Professor,” Maddox told him. “We don’t have much time, and we need to prepare for the next step.”

“Which is what exactly?” asked Ludendorff.

“As I just said, not yet.” Maddox pointed at Kris Guderian.

She told the others about Commodore Smits, making it quick and succinct. “In my opinion, someone is controlling his mind. He’s different from the man I knew.”

“Can I say something now?” asked Ludendorff.

“In a minute, Professor,” Maddox said. “Here’s the situation in a nutshell. We clearly walked into a trap we didn’t suspect. Smits controls five battleships that he’s bringing to the ceremony.”

“You gave him permission, remember?” Ludendorff said querulously.

“Precisely,” Maddox said. “The reason should be obvious. A man or Liss cyber getting ready to spring a trap will put himself out there more than otherwise. In this case, I’m talking about Smits coming aboard Victory.”

“Yes,” Ludendorff said, “with an army at his back.”

“Seemingly,” Maddox said.

“And with five battleships ready to blast us to Hell,” Ludendorff added. “This is a piss-poor plan, my boy.”

“Enough,” Maddox said, sternly. “I’m not worried about the five battleships, and I’m not really worried about the three hundred space marines Smits plans to join him for the ceremony. What I am worried about are aliens, likely Liss cybers, hunkering down in a star system and taking over through the top personnel. In my estimation, we weren’t thorough enough as Star Watch scoured the Commonwealth for them. I know about Jarnevon and some other places…Well, it doesn’t matter what we did then. I think we’ve found a hive of Liss cybers here. They’ve turned Smits against us and maybe turned others as well.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Ludendorff said. “The question is, did they control Smits when he had Colonel Borneo shot?”

“I’d like to know that myself,” Maddox said. “That’s why we have to capture whoever is on the carbonaceous moon.”

Ludendorff jerked back. “How do you propose to do that?”

Maddox smiled grimly. “It’s the reason we’re having the meeting. I’m open to suggestions.”

No one spoke, but glanced around the conference table, seeing who would come up with a plan first.

“I have an idea, sir,” Galyan finally said.

“Fine,” Maddox said. “Let’s hear it.”

Galyan told them.

“Firstly,” Maddox said, after Galyan had finished explaining. “That’s doesn’t give us any Liss prisoners. Secondly, it puts you at grave risk.”

“There is a small risk for me, sir, I admit,” Galyan said.

“He’s trying to grab all the glory,” Ludendorff complained.

“That is not true, Professor,” Galyan said. “It is a most logical plan, and it follows the captain’s normal way of dealing with such a situation.”

“You mean it’s highly unorthodox,” Ludendorff said.

“And uses surprise to maximum advantage,” Galyan added.

“I like it,” Keith said.

“You would,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox was drumming his fingers on the table. “Your plan isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it is tricky and abrupt and could bring everything to a head. Frankly, it’s better than what I’d envisioned earlier.”

“Thank you, sir,” Galyan said. “You are most kind.”

“No, I’m being honest,” Maddox said. “Are there any objections?

There were, from Valerie and Ludendorff in particular. They argued for a time, added a twist here and there, and agreed with the captain when he said they were running out of time.

Maddox stood. “It’s settled. We have our plan. There are plenty of risks and many things that can go wrong, but it has the advantage of wild motion and action and of using their likely flaw: that of being extremely hierarchical and thus more prone to having sabotage at the top paralyzing everyone else. We will prepare and execute in—” He checked his watch. “In thirty-two minutes.”

-85-

It made sense that Galyan had come up with such a detailed plan. As an AI, he’d had the means and time to make thousands of complex and precise computations, and this was going to take perfectly executed timetable operations.

Victory was in orbit around the water moon, which in turn orbited the Jovian gas giant. The tiny carbonaceous moon was between the Jovian planet and water moon and had a faster orbit around the gas giant than the star base planet. The tiny moon would soon be out of sight of the coming ceremony, meaning it would be out of direct line-of-sight of the ancient Adok starship and battleships.

A few Alpha Sigma 9 personnel contacted Valerie, making sure everything was in order. She assured them it was.

Maddox sat in the captain’s chair, listening to the conversations. Keith was no longer at the helm.

That was because he waited in a hangar bay aboard a fold-fighter, the proverbial tin can. He had the most dangerous part in the coming mission, and he was eager to be off.

“Now, it’s my turn to shine,” Keith said at the fold-fighter controls.

Maddox heard that because the link between them was still open. “Don’t get cocky,” the captain warned.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but are you kidding me? Cocky is exactly what you’re going to get from me, and that’s because I’m the best at this.”

“I see. Well, await my signal,” Maddox said.

“Aye-aye…Captain,” Keith said with a laugh.

Valerie had switched off her comm and stepped over to Maddox’s chair. “Sir,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure—”

“Lieutenant,” Maddox said, interrupting, swiveling around to face her. “Keith is the only one we have that can do this. Trust his flying skills, if nothing else.”

“If Galyan has made a mistake—”

“Then pray that he hasn’t,” Maddox said, interrupting once again. “Now, if you please, Lieutenant, it’s almost time.”

“Can we really pull this off, sir?” Valerie asked softly.

Maddox stared at her, and he grinned to induce confidence. “We’re certainly going to find out. Now, get to your post.”

“Yes, Captain,” she said, saluting.

Maddox swiveled back to the main screen. “Please help us, God,” he whispered, with his fingers tightly gripping the ends of the armrests. “We’re going to need it.”

***

The plan was rather simple, but it had complicated parts, all of them concerning Galyan except for the last, which had Keith running the show.

It started with the five battleships of Alpha Sigma 9 rounding the water moon in close formation. They did not fly fast. They did not fly with electromagnetic shields up or with any of their armaments hot. They came peacefully, heading straight for Victory, which had taken up a stationary orbit over the water moon.

The Wellington and Subotai—the Conqueror-class battleships—were in the middle of the formation: two Bismarck-class battleships were on one side and on the other were a Bismarck-class battleship and the mothership.

The mothership was an added complication, but in Maddox’s estimation, it shouldn’t render the plan moot.

The flotilla approached Victory, with the six vessels beginning to slow their velocity.

On Victory’s bridge, Valerie turned to Maddox. “Commodore Smits would like a word with you, sir.”

“Put him on the main screen,” Maddox said. Even though his gut had started to tighten, he smiled as Smits appeared.

“I know this is last minute,” Smits said. “But I wonder if I could add fifty people to my list.”

“Three hundred and fifty people?” asked Maddox.

“If it isn’t a problem,” Smits said.

Maddox debated internally and decided it would look suspicious if he granted the request too easily. His smile vanished. “In truth, Commodore, I was thinking fifty fewer. Two hundred and fifty will overload us as it is. An extra hundred after that is out of the question.”

Smits sat utterly still until he blinked. “I’m afraid I must insist.”

“Three hundred and fifty?” asked Maddox, with the touch of a whine in his voice.

“It’s one of my conditions.”

“You’re pushing it, Commodore.”

“Captain…what would the Lord High Admiral want? Remember, you have many other star systems to visit.”

Maddox pretended to wrestle with his thoughts. Finally, his shoulders hunched, but just a touch. He didn’t want to lay it on too thickly. “Very well,” he said curtly. “Three hundred and fifty. We’ll have to stagger the landings.”

“I have a reason for the request,” Smits said, “political reasons.”

“I said all right,” Maddox told him. “Is there anything else?”

“No. That’s sufficient. I look forward to the ceremony.”

“Good,” Maddox said, motioning to Valerie to cut the connection.

***

The five battleships and single mothership took up station across from Victory. Hangar bay doors opened on all six vessels as shuttles and landers began to exit them.

The beginning mass of shuttles started for Victory, which had opened two hangar bays to receive them. Like the other vessels, Victory’s weapons were offline, and the electromagnetic shield was down.

“Galyan,” Maddox said from his seat on the bridge. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

“Happy hunting,” Maddox said. “You can start now.”

“Why, thank you, sir, I appreciate that.”

***

Galyan the Adok AI holoimage disappeared from the bridge and reappeared in ghost form inside an approaching shuttle. That meant Galyan was hardly visible to human sight. He needed the slight visibility for his optical sensors to work. He scanned the throng in the shuttle hold, popped to the flight chamber and then disappeared, after failing to spot Commodore Smits.

Galyan did this at high speed, going from one shuttle to another, searching, searching, searching.

As predicted, Galyan found the commodore in one of the last shuttles to launch. It was a natural precaution on the man’s part, although there had been tactical advantages to the other side if Smits had been willing to travel on one of the first shuttles to reach Victory.

Galyan did not hesitate. The holoimage floated into Smits. Then, a special generator aboard Victory activated. The generator had been damaged during the war against the Liss, but Ludendorff and Andros had since repaired it.

The generator pulsed energy directly to Galyan. That energy sizzled through Smit’s body, rendering the man more than unconscious, in fact putting him into a temporary coma.

Galyan instantly vanished and reappeared aboard the Wellington’s bridge. The little Adok holoimage was still in ghost form. He floated into the captain of the battleship, and zapped the man with the same generated energy, rendering him temporarily comatose as well.

Galyan went from one battleship to another, doing the same thing on each.

Aboard Victory, Ludendorff and Andros serviced the generator, having added extra power lines for the attack.

Naturally, aboard each battleship, and aboard the shuttle, people reacted predictably. Some screamed. Some shouted. Some watched open-mouthed. Seconds passed until those nearby rushed the Galyan-zapped individual. Every time, the people found the zapped individual unresponsive. At that point, without fail, an officer contacted medical personnel and told them to hurry to the bridge, or to the shuttle flight chamber, in the case of Commodore Smits.

These assaults took place in a matter of minutes. So, by the time Galyan left the mothership to reappear on Victory’s bridge, eight and a half minutes had elapsed.

No one on any of the vessels had sounded a general flotilla alarm yet. Each believed that its vessel—and personage—was the only one to be in such straights.

That was about to end, however, as the pilot shuttling a comatose Smits made an emergency call to the Wellington, which meant the mission was about to go into high gear.

-86-

Maddox started as Galyan appeared before him on Victory’s bridge.

“Done, sir,” Galyan said. “The seven individuals have been rendered inert for the time being.”

Maddox nodded tightly, and said, “Helm, initiate the star-drive jump. Use the original coordinates.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilot said, a small woman named Bonnie with fantastic reflexes.

“Is Keith ready?” Maddox asked Valerie.

“He’s eager, sir,” Valerie said, who had an open channel with the ace waiting in the hangar bay.

“Tell him we’re about to jump,” Maddox said.

Valerie turned to her panel.

Maddox stood because the tension had just become too much for him to continue sitting. He tried to look calm in order to keep the bridge crew calm. But he was anything but.

He’d never intended to let any Alpha Sigma 9 space marines aboard Victory. That had been a ruse to get the battleships close. With all those shuttles in space, the battleship captains would have been loath to fire at the starship. The key here was the known hierarchal tendencies of Liss puppets. If Smits was a Liss puppet, it was quite likely the battleship captains were too. The point then in rendering them comatose, was to throw the chain of command into a crisis. Who would make critical decisions with the captain lying there? Maddox was hoping to buy time—if only extra minutes—while people figured that out.

“We’re ready to jump, sir,” Bonnie said.

“Go,” Maddox said, as he resumed his seat.

“Jumping,” Bonnie said, as she manipulated her helm controls.

The great antimatter engines powered up, and in those few seconds when the battleships could have fired at Victory, no one gave such an order.

The double-oval starship vanished, jumping into low orbit around the Jovian gas giant on the other side. Victory appeared with the gas giant between it and the water moon and it and the flotilla of Star Watch vessels. The starship was also ahead of the fast-traveling carbonaceous moon as it sped toward them around the Jovian planet.

There was lag aboard Victory, although it did not last long.

Maddox was the first to raise his head. He waited until the others stirred. “Galyan, are you ready to go?”

“Yes, sir,” the holoimage said.

“Helm?” asked Maddox.

“I’m…I’m ready, sir,” Bonnie said.

“Plot an intercept course for the approaching carbonaceous moon,” Maddox said.

A few seconds passed. “The course is plotted, sir,” Bonnie said.

“Engage,” Maddox told her.

***

Victory picked up velocity as it maneuvered along the curvature of the great Jovian planet. It headed for a rendezvous with the carbonaceous moon, which orbited toward them, and was out of direct-line-of-sight with the water moon and Star Watch flotilla.

In minutes, the tiny moon appeared over the Jovian horizon relative to Victory.

“Go,” Maddox told Galyan.

The holoimage disappeared from the bridge, to reappear seconds later in a great subterranean cavern inside the carbonaceous moon. Galyan had detected the cavern earlier through his sensors.

The little holoimage glanced one way and then another and could not detect a thing.

He disappeared and reappeared in a deeper subterranean cavern. This time, he detected a structure with power. The power source—

A ray beamed at Galyan. He disappeared…to reappear on the bridge of Victory.

“They’re in the second cavern system,” Galyan said. “They have power and weapons. It could be a death sentence if Keith goes in.”

At her station, Valerie gasped.

“Are we in range?” Maddox asked the weapons officer.

“In thirty seconds, sir.”

Maddox clicked an armrest comm to Keith waiting in a fold-fighter. “They have beam weapons.”

“No problem,” Keith said.

“It might be.”

“Okay, it might be. I’ll still get it done.”

Maddox grinned, liking the ace’s coolness. Keith Maker was the best pilot in Star Watch, at least, Maddox would wager him against anyone else.

“Ten seconds,” the weapons officer said.

“Second cavern,” Maddox told Keith.

“I already know, sir. Valerie gave me the heads up.”

“Good luck,” Maddox said.

“No, sir,” Keith said. “It’s happy hunting, remember?”

***

Victory swerved out of low orbit around the Jovian gas giant as it headed straight at the tiny carbonaceous moon.

All sensors strained to see if the enemy on the moon would launch missiles or fire beams at them.

At the same time, Keith manipulated the controls of his fold-fighter. It had been an experimental craft not so long ago. These days, most Star-Watch motherships had several among their strikefighters, and some star bases boasted a few fold-fighters as well.

Victory had two.

A fold-fighter could fold—make a semi star-drive jump—although not as far as a regular spaceship could do.

Keith fed the coordinates into his flight computer, the coordinates Galyan had learned a few minutes ago. That went into the vessel’s highly advanced computer.

The computer broke down the carbonaceous-moon data into a grid-pattern map, superimposing the second cavern system onto the grid. If the fold-fighter tried to fold there, and appeared in rock instead, none of this would work and Keith would be deader than dead, as his atoms would be mixed with minerals and carbon.

“I hope you got everything right, Galyan,” Keith said to himself.

His fold-fighter hadn’t left the hangar bay yet. A light flashed on Keith’s flight panel.

“Let’s see what we see,” Keith muttered, initiating a fold.

The vessel’s unique engine purred, and the small fighter that looked like a tin can with stubby wings disappeared from Victory’s hangar bay. It folded in an instant, the computer having calculated the precise distance. The fold-fighter appeared in the second cavern system, too near a wall for even Keith’s comfort.

A fold did not affect certain people the same way as a jump in a starship would. Keith was one of those. He took over flight controls, moved away from the wall and studied his sensors. Ah, yes, he saw the housing in the dark—or his sensors did for him. Keith targeted and pressed a button, launching three antimatter missiles one right after the other. These had bigger warheads than usual.

A beam flashed in the darkness, and it barely missed the fighter.

“Enough of that,” Keith said. He smacked his lips, making a kissing noise. “Grab your ankles, you lousy bastards. I hope you burn hot.”

The tin can shuddered, the engine engaged, and the small vessel disappeared in another fold, just as a beam flashed where it had been.

Keith reappeared near Victory. He hadn’t tried to fold back into the hangar bay, although he had thought about it as a matter of style.

***

The antimatter missiles Keith had launched zeroed in on the dark housing in the subterranean chamber. Shells streaked at the missiles, and a beam flashed, burning the first warhead, slagging it and rendering it inert.

It was excellent marksmanship on their part, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the second missile from sending a pulse that ignited the giant warhead as it smashed against the housing.

A fantastic Sun-bright flash showed more housing and domes lower down in the cavern floor. That was the last look, as the star-intense heat and terrible blast washed over the structures, destroying them in a moment as gamma and X-rays sterilized anything that had survived. The blast devoured the third antimatter missile, so it never exploded. It melted out of existence along with the subterranean-built structures.

***

Maddox leaned forward on his seat, waiting for news.

“Explosion,” Galyan said. “My sensors detect a great underground explosion inside the carbonaceous moon.”

“An antimatter explosion?” asked Maddox.

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “Yes…antimatter. We got them, sir.”

Valerie cheered.

Everyone on the bridge turned to her.

She blushed, looking down.

“Well?” asked Maddox.

“Keith made it out, sir,” Valerie said, looking up. “He’s asking permission to land in a hangar bay.”

“Yes!” Maddox said. “Yes. Tell him he did a—no wait—I’ll go tell him myself.” Maddox got up and headed for the exit.

-87-

Victory picked up Keith’s fold-fighter and headed around the Jovian planet. Maddox congratulated the ace on a job spectacularly done; pumping his hand after the ace exited his tin can in the hangar bay.

“Thank you, sir,” Keith said. “It was a pleasure.”

Galyan went back to the second subterranean cavern on the carbonaceous moon. He did not find any survivors. The deepest wreckage told him the aliens had indeed been Liss cybers.

This, Galyan passed along to the captain when he reappeared on Victory.

By this time, Maddox was back in his chair on the bridge. Victory was coming around the gas giant, about to head toward the water moon.

“You were right,” Ludendorff told Maddox. “It had all the earmarks of the Liss, but it’s still surprising when everything works out so well.”

“The Liss acted according to pattern,” Galyan said.

“That’s what I said,” Ludendorff told the AI.

“Gentlemen,” Maddox said. “Let’s save the discussion for later. We’re not out of this yet. We have to settle the star system and get the personnel fully back into the fold of Star Watch. Eliminating the Liss and any human confederates on the moon has given us the opportunity, nothing more. We have to finish this.”

“I take it you have a plan,” Ludendorff said.

“We’ll see,” Maddox said. “It’s going to mean another risk. Mr. Maker, be prepared to use the star-drive jump on the instant. Make it several light-years away from here.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” Keith said, who had resumed his regular post.

“Galyan, do you think the various captains and the commodore are still comatose from your electric attack?”

“They should be for another few hours, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox sat back in his seat, thinking. He sat forward abruptly, with a tight smile on his face. “Clemency seems like the best option.”

“The people on those battleships are going to want to murder instead of forgive you,” Ludendorff said. “They won’t grant you any clemency.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Maddox said.

“We’re in sight of the water moon,” Keith said. “Should I proceed there?”

“No,” Maddox said. “Lieutenant,” he told Valerie, “hail the battleships if you would.”

She manipulated her panel and soon told him they were ready to receive.

Maddox cleared his throat. “Put them all on the main screen.”

Valerie clicked a switch. “They’re ready, sir.”

Maddox stood, as he felt this was too important to say seated. On the main screen appeared six officers, one from each battleship and the mothership. There were four women and two men.

“I hope I have your attention,” Maddox said.

One of the men protested, a Commander Gleason from the Wellington, a thin-faced fellow with thick gray hair. “Now see here. Did you have anything to do with the attacks on our captains? If so, prepare to be boarded.”

Maddox stared at Commander Gleason as he put his hands behind his back. Maddox cocked his head, as if he were studying the others.

“Are you going to answer me or not?” Gleason demanded.

“Firstly,” Maddox said in a calm voice, “you should know that I am here as the personal representative of the Lord High Admiral of Star Watch.” He turned to Valerie. “If you would send each of them a copy of the Admiral’s order, I would appreciate it.”

Maddox then proceeded to wait as each of the six officers on the main screen received a copy of those orders and had a chance to examine them.

“These seem genuine,” Commander Gleason finally said.

“They are genuine,” Maddox said. “I want you to know without a doubt that I speak with the full force of Star Watch. I have the authority for what I am about to say.”

Commander Gleason grumbled under his breath.

Maddox ignored him. “The Lord High Admiral has learned about a conspiracy in the Alpha Sigma 9 System. He learned this through Commander Kris Guderian, who was interned for many months in the military prison—this happened during the tenure of Lord High Admiral Fletcher. We suspected Liss cybers were at the root of the conspiracy, as Star Watch Intelligence learned that a few had escaped the destruction that started on Luna and ended at Jarnevon. We have evidence that Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers was working in cooperation with the Liss here.”

“What Liss cybers?” Gleason said. “There’s been no evidence of them around our star system.”

“Wrong,” Maddox said. “I have just destroyed their secret base on the carbonaceous moon.”

“Where?” asked Gleason.

“The moon called Emmitt Bell,” Galyan said softly.

Maddox repeated that to the Alpha Sigma 9 officers.

“Emmitt Bell?” Gleason asked. “No one is on the—”

“Commander!” Maddox barked, interrupting the man. “I launched fold-fighters into Emmitt Bell’s deep caverns, after pinpointing the Liss stronghold. As per Liss operational patterns, they had burrowed deep while taking over the minds of key Alpha Sigma 9 personnel. Chief among those afflicted is Commodore Smits, along with some if not all of the battleship captains.”

“W-What?” stammered Gleason, finally looking nervous. “You can prove this?”

“Absolutely,” Maddox said. “But that isn’t the issue. I have indeed rendered inert—for the time being, at least—the people under Liss control, or former control, as I have eliminated all Liss cybers in the star system. This gives the rest of you a golden opportunity.”

This time, Commander Gleason did not speak, nor did any of the others.

“There were gross improprieties taking place here during the tenure of Lord High Admiral Fletcher,” Maddox said. “You all know this. You’ve all read, no doubt, Memo 274 from Lord High Admiral Cook. You know that Brigadier Stokes has fallen behind schedule with his Transition Team. What you may not know is that the Lord High Admiral has reconsidered the issue. He has decided that a time of clemency is in order. I have come to Alpha Sigma 9 for two reasons. I have succeeded with the first: eliminating the Liss. Now, I offer the second, namely, clemency for any over-zealous HMD activists during the time of Fletcher’s tenure.”

“How do we know this is true?” Gleason asked.

“You know because the Lord High Admiral has spoken. And you know that Cook is a man of his word, as am I.”

“That’s true,” a woman said, a Commander Hines, a large lady with bright eyes. She was aboard one of the Bismarck-class battleships.

“How do we gain this clemency?” Gleason asked.

“For you six, it is easy,” Maddox said. “You will each send a shuttle to Victory. Come aboard the shuttle so I may interview you here personally and bring your unconscious commander with you. He or she will stay in a brig aboard the starship in order to directly receive justice from the Lord High Admiral on Earth. Whoever has Commodore Smits will bring him as well.”

“This is a trap,” Gleason said heatedly. “You mean to make us your prisoners.”

“Not true,” Maddox said. “This is clemency, a time for healing. You can grasp it, but it’s up to you now.”

“What about the rest of the people here?” Hines asked.

“You will set up a board of officers. I would suggest—in the interests of your future careers in Star Watch—that each of you joins the hearing board. The board will gather confessions from each individual. These individuals will then be cleared except for cases of murder. Since the recent defeat in the Solar System of Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers and the destruction of her ancient planet killer, the Lord High Admiral is sending a heavy flotilla of Conqueror-class battleships, ten of them, to Alpha Sigma 9. A proconsul from the Judge Advocate General’s Office will study the board’s findings, putting the final seal of approval on them.”

The others on the main screen said nothing.

“Or…” Maddox said, “you can choose to rebel against Star Watch.”

“Who said anything about rebelling?” asked Gleason.

“I’m simply pointing out your options,” Maddox said. “There is no middle ground. Follow orders, or be declared rebels and enemies of humanity, to be hunted down and destroyed. But I’d rather that not happen.”

He looked away, touched his chin and then peered intently at the six. “Humanity must stick together, as we are a mere speck of life in the greater galaxy, and we have found many alien enemies that have tried to harm us. I propose that we are stronger together than fighting at cross-purposes with each other. If the past is any gauge of the future, Star Watch will face more alien attackers.”

“Yes!” Commander Hines said eagerly, like a drowning man grasping a lifeline. “I agree with Captain Maddox. I agree to his terms. Clemency is what we need. And our captain has been acting strangely lately. Besides, I took an oath when I joined Star Watch and I will uphold it.”

Gleason complained, but Hines and then the others shouted him down, and the six of them eventually agreed to Maddox’s terms.

The one caveat to Maddox’s orders from Cook was that he did not attempt to place Kris Guderian in authority anywhere in the Alpha Sigma 9 System. In Maddox’s opinion, it was the wrong time for that. Besides, Maddox decided he would leave such a thing to Admiral Cook.

-88-

Starship Victory left the Alpha Sigma 9 System as it headed home for the Solar System. The six captains and Commodore Smits were in the brig. The new board of captains—the six Maddox had talked with—had already started their Clemency Hearings back on the water moon.

“I am curious, sir,” Galyan said after their first jump. “How are you going to convince the Lord High Admiral to follow your plan?”

“What’s to convince?” asked Maddox. “I was his personal representative. I spoke in his name. If he doesn’t agree, he breaks his word. People will soon hear about that. Cook has to agree, as he has no other choice.”

“How would people learn that Cook broke his word?” asked Galyan.

“Because I’ll inform them,” Maddox said.

“Will you tell the Lord High Admiral that?”

“If I need to.”

“Balls,” Galyan said.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, no, sir, I do. I am simply saying that you have balls, big balls, as Sergeant Riker once said.”

“Now see here, Galyan,” Maddox said, looking around. “Such talk isn’t polite around ladies. There are several on the bridge.”

“Oh. I am sorry, sir.”

“No problem. Just don’t repeat it.”

“I will not repeat it, sir.”

Maddox chuckled to himself, but kept his face from showing it.

The journey to Earth continued.

Maddox took it easier than normal, spending more time in the gym than usual. He lifted. He hit a heavy bag and did wind sprints. It felt good to relax, to push himself physically for the mere joy of it.

Meta met him as he came out of the shower. “Ooh,” she said. “Look at him. What a hunk.”

Maddox grinned, grabbed a towel and began to dry himself as he said, “Hello, beautiful. Would you like to have a candlelight dinner tonight?”

“Do you mean in the cafeteria?”

“No. How about we eat in one of the observation lounges?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Maddox dried off, dressed and spoke to the chef and then Lieutenant Horn. Afterward, Meta and he retired to their quarters to get ready.

Three hours later, Maddox wore his dress uniform, including the Galactic Star pinned to his chest. Meta wore a long sequined dress with a low front that showed off her cleavage to great advantage.

There was no one else along the way, as Lieutenant Horn had secured the passage to the empty lounge. There, a waiter took their order.

Soon, at a candlelit table, with the stars shining through a viewing port, Maddox and Meta ate a delicious dinner. He had prime rib and baked potato. She had salmon and brown rice. They both sipped wine and enjoyed each other’s company. After dessert—apple pie with ice cream—the two of them retired to a couch, sitting and studying the stars. Maddox had his arm around her. Meta snuggled up close against him.

“I like this,” Meta said.

“Me, too,” Maddox said.

“We need to do it more often.”

“You mean the vacation thing you were talking about?”

“Yes. Once we hand over our prisoners, you need to take off a month, maybe two. It might be a good idea to let the entire crew take at least a month’s vacation.”

“We might lose Ludendorff if we do that.”

“And he might go and find himself, or go search for Dana. What do you say?”

“Well…it will depend—Aw!” Maddox said.

Meta had just jabbed him hard in the side with the stiffened fingers of her left hand. “You listen to me, Captain. You desperately need a vacation. I saw that this time around. You’re getting tired. You need to relax and let all the toxins out of your system.”

“What toxins?”

“The ones that build up each mission,” Meta said. “We need two months, at least. And if the Lord High Admiral calls you during that time, you’ll ignore him.”

Maddox nodded. “You’re right. I’m going to tell him. We’ll include my grandmother during some of that time.”

Meta looked up into his eyes, with understanding glimmering in her. “Is that why you took the prisoners? You’re going to force your way to Earth no matter what?”

“Now would I do something like that?” asked Maddox.

“I see. What if Cook orders you to drop your prisoners off at Pluto?”

Maddox shook his head. “I’m not going to inform him about my whereabouts until I greet him in Geneva.”

“What if he uses the Long-Range Builder Communicator to check up on you?”

“I’m not going to answer,” Maddox said.

“Truly?”

Maddox leaned down and kissed his wife’s luscious lips. “Cross my heart,” he whispered. “I do need a rest. I also need to speak to my grandmother. After I see her, you and I will go on a cruise, or maybe rent a boat and just row around and lie on a Southern Pacific tropical island.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It will be. You and I will do plenty of skinny-dipping.”

“What’s that mean?” Meta asked.

“Swimming naked in the ocean,” Maddox said with a leer.

Meta kissed him, saying, “I’m looking forward to it.”

They sat together quietly for a time, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Do you think it will work at Alpha Sigma 9?” Meta asked later.

“It was worth a try. Sometimes you have to forgive and forget to bring about peace.”

“And all the Liss cybers are dead there?”

“I hope so, and I believe they are.”

“The mobile null region won’t give Earth any more trouble?” Meta asked.

“Not for a while, at least,” Maddox said. “But look, honey, I don’t want to talk about Meyers or the Liss. I’m relaxing for a little while, anyway. I’m taking a break so I can come on stronger next time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Meta, my dear, this is what I do. In the end, I love it. Next time, I’m going to be sharper than ever. Two months on Earth, that sounds about right.”

He kissed her again. Then, he stood, taking Meta by the hand and beginning the walk back to their quarters.

***

Galyan had glimpsed them from time to time during their meal and relaxation in his ghost mode. Captain Maddox and his wife were safe, and they were happy. The crew of Victory was safe and secure again. The little AI was glad. According to his computations, he would outlive everyone aboard the starship, so he wanted to enjoy their company for as long as possible.

To that end, Galyan vowed to himself once again to do everything in his power to keep his family safe. If that meant guarding the starship alone while the crew took a vacation, well, that is what he would do.

Galyan smiled, and then he disappeared, heading for the professor’s science laboratory to make sure the Methuselah Man wasn’t up to some new mischief.

THE END

From the Author: Thanks Reader! I hope you’ve enjoyed THE LOST TECH. If you liked the book and would like to see the story continue, please put up some stars and a review to support the series. Let me know what you would like Captain Maddox and the crew to challenge next!

-VH

Read on for an exciting excerpt from the next book in the Lost Starship Series, The Lost Secret.

The Lost Secret

(Lost Starship Series 14)

-Prologue-

Far in the Beyond, on the Throne World of the New Men, was a prison for the most dangerous human in existence.

At the moment he didn’t look particularly dangerous, deadly or even nefarious, as he was a gnome of a Methuselah Man—a hunched, muttering madman. He paced through his prison complex, clacking his teeth with frustrated rage as he spewed spit, obscenities and profundities in equal measure.

He was Strand, a former Earthman kidnapped and trained centuries ago by the vanished Builders. In those distant days, the aliens had gifted him with superior intelligence and long life—if he proved nimble and clever enough to keep it, which he had so far. New Men, highly ranked Star Watch officers, Spacers—a host of people—feared his cunning and breadth of knowledge, particularly concerning ancient alien technology, some of it still scattered among the stars.

Strand had committed many sins, many transgressions against the innocent, but he’d also achieved incredible things.

The Methuselah Man halted, barefoot in his black monk’s habit with hood and rope belt, and eyed the walls of his confinement. He seethed, his gut knotted, and he feared, oh, how he feared to remain trapped for yet another span of years.

The prison was large as such things went, especially given the nature and number of his crimes. But he was alone ninety-nine point nine percent of the time. Yes. He believed that most people were idiots, and he suffered fools poorly. Because of his breadth and depth of knowledge, he was also quite aware that solitary confinement was one of the worst horrors to inflict upon a human. He was, after all, a herd animal like the rest of the human rejects. People needed companionship to maintain mental equilibrium.

He was anything but normal, but after all these lonely and tedious years, the solitary confinement had begun to drive him…

He shook his fists. He ground his teeth and started pacing again even as he strove to quit muttering like a madman.

His prison quarters were composed of five connecting chambers. There was one for toiletry and hygiene, another for exercise, including a treadmill—

Strand snarled to himself, despising the treadmill. He paced enough each day so that his stringy muscles still possessed surprising strength. A treadmill—bah!

He passed the useless library room. He’d read each book so often that he’d memorized them.

He’d committed many sins, transgressions, crimes and offenses. It was ironic that he was a prisoner to possibly his greatest achievement: the creation of the New Men, his present wardens.

A terrible light shined in his eyes.

Over one hundred and fifty years ago, he and Professor Ludendorff—another prodigy of a Methuselah Man—had set out to ensure humanity’s survival in a tremendously hostile universe. They had each served the Builders; that was before the remaining alien overlords had left en masse to places unknown, abdicating their rule. Due to their greater knowledge about surrounding space, Strand and Ludendorff were far more aware of the coming dangers to humanity than the Earthlings who had finally started to colonize outward from their Terra-local star systems.

Given their profound knowledge of the coming dangers, and both believing themselves students of history, they realized how often humanity found itself divided at the worst possible moments. Thus, as paragons of virtue—in their unified opinion about themselves—Strand and Ludendorff had begun a bold experiment. It was called the Thomas More Society, named for the ancient former chancellor of England who had both coined the term, and written a book called Utopia. The two Methuselah Men had planned to make the perfect or ideal society as told by Socrates, who had envisioned philosopher kings benevolently ruling over brave warriors and brutish workers. Their twist was to create a race of superior defenders who would leap to humanity’s aid in its hour of direst alien peril.

To that end, the two Methuselah Men had posed as regular, if extremely wealthy, businessmen. They’d started the Thomas More Society for the Betterment of Humanity. The two planted the idea of a model civilization into the membership. Ten years later, several gigantic colony ships had set out for the most distant stars in what others called the Beyond. It meant beyond the pale of organized human society, which was always expanding. Thus, the colony ships deliberately went far indeed, eventually landing on what was to become the New Men’s Throne World.

It was a pristine planet, an idyllic world, as envisioned by hyper-environmentalists.

Soon after landing and completely cut off from the rest of humanity, Ludendorff and Strand—particularity Strand—began to implement The Plan.

The Plan was simple and direct. Throughout the ages, people had selectively bred cattle, horses, dogs, chickens, pigeons and other domesticated animals for certain traits. In this instance—and here was where Strand shined—the two set up a system of government where a committee approved or disapproved of a man and woman procreating or not, based on their genetics. Naturally, Strand ran the committee exactly as he wanted, with the other members being his unwitting puppets. And he’d already secretly determined what he hoped to achieve from the selective breeding.

After a time, Ludendorff took his leave of the Throne World, as certain of Strand’s practices had begun to make him feel morally queasy.

Strand had anticipated Ludendorff’s departure—had engineered and encouraged it, in fact. Such abilities were among his greatest, as he was a manipulator par excellence.

With the moralistic old fogey out of the way, Strand shifted into high gear. He stratified the colony into an ever more hierarchical society. He abolished the old-fashioned marriage of one man with one woman and instituted “the harem,” strictly for the better men, those who had proven themselves worthy. In this instance, better or worthy referred to warrior skills: brains, strength, reflexes and ruthlessness to achieve and, if needed, to kill without compunction.

Fourteen years later, to speed the results already achieved through selective breeding, Strand began genetic modification of the fetuses.

Nearly one hundred and fifty years from the beginning of the colony, those now called New Men were perfected, and soon thrived in abundance.

They were tall, golden-skinned as befitted a superior race, and possessed great strength, paranormal reflexes and lofty intelligence—comparable to a normal human champion athlete in physical contests or a chess master in mental acuity.

However, Strand ran into a snag. The New Men universally lacked an X-chromosome in their sperm. Strand had never figured out how this had come about or how to correct the flaw, but it meant that the New Men sired only sons, never daughters. They produced crops of fine young lads, hearty soldiers and pioneers, but there were never any New Women. So, the new race could obviously not survive more than a generation unless they constantly acquired fresh young women to impregnate.

Additionally, the present path to making more New Men meant they had to breed with carefully selected unmodified women. Strand had discovered and then taught Throne World geneticists how to inject a fetus with the gene-editing substances that would transform the budding baby into a golden-skinned superman, or a dominant, as the Throne World natives called themselves.

Was that the fatal flaw to the original Thomas More Society ideal? Strand had begun to wonder. As a quick fix—about a decade ago or so—he’d initiated “secret raids” into the Commonwealth, kidnapping the very best women: brainy, athletic and beautiful. The last trait was because Strand considered himself an artist as well as the universe’s greatest scientist, and he desired to create a beautiful as well as highly functional New Race.

During these raids, many New Men saw how weak, stupid and pathetic regular humans were. The raiding teams began to call normal humans premen or submen. They, the New Men, were the new model of humanity. The lesser standard humans were more akin to Neanderthals or Homo habilis compared to them. Only the prized beauties captured for breeding stock were considered worthy of the dignity of being called human, but even they had no power in the New Man society. Their only role was as breeders and mothers of more New Men.

To hold the growing sense of New Men entitlement at bay—at least, Strand told himself this was why he did it—he took over direct and open leadership of the Throne World and instituted a strict regime: this was to get back to the good old days of the Thomas More Society. He even used terror, at times, and later inserted brain-chips to keep the New Men subservient to what Strand considered his adamant will.

As cunning, intelligent and amoral as Strand was, he wasn’t driven by sexual lust or the intense desire to dominate as the greatest New Men dominants were. In retrospect, perhaps Strand had created his supermen too well. It was a tale as old as Frankenstein: the monsters turned on their creator.

The present Emperor of the Throne World led the rebellion against Strand’s rule. It was how he became the Emperor. Methuselah Man Strand eventually fled, barely escaping with his life, and vowed revenge against the golden-skinned ingrates he’d created.

With a growing sense of their unique strength, the New Men decided to change their originally designed role. Instead of being the last-ditch defenders of humanity, especially in mankind’s darkest hour, they would conquer and rule the premen, shaping them into useful workers. Ironically, Strand later mused, the all-conquering dominants would unknowingly implement part of Socrates’s ultimate form of government. Who could reasonably argue against that?

Thus, the New Men went to war against unmodified humanity, sweeping aside every effort to halt their drive with amazing ease.

In desperation, Captain Maddox left on a dangerous and profound quest, found the ancient Adok starship Victory and returned to Earth with it. Soon thereafter, Star Watch began to win more engagements, eventually pushing the New Men out of “C” Quadrant. Golden Ural and his soldiers took a vast haul of women with them, but the war was ended, and there had been an uneasy peace ever since.

Worse for Strand, the smug, arrogant young pup of a Star Watch officer—the damned hybrid Captain Maddox—had captured Strand and turned him over to the Emperor.

Here in the prison on the Throne World, Strand had languished ever since.

He muttered under his breath, swearing awful curses against Maddox and his crew, and against the traitorous Professor Ludendorff who had been helping that prideful young ass for years.

What did this veritable prodigy of the stars look like? Nothing like his creation: the tall, handsome and proud New Men. Strand was short, a gnome or dwarf of a human, shrunken perhaps due to his extreme age. The term Methuselah Man meant something, after all. He was short, as stated, with a larger than average head and skull case and strange, some said frightening, eyes. The eyes radiated with infernal heat. He wore a monk’s outfit, including cowl and rope belt. He did not wear sandals, but walked barefoot. Worse, he smelled of sweat and old urine. His soiled garment had something to do with the stench. And he appeared disheveled, unwashed and perhaps, a few might say, stark raving mad.

Strand had spoken with Golden Ural several months ago and had told the dominant that the craziness was part of an act. Strand never did anything halfway, but threw himself at any chosen activity. In this case, that was feigned madness.

Golden Ural had stayed long enough for Strand to reveal certain secrets about a long-lost Builder weapon, the mobile null region. Captain Maddox had desired the information, because Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers had unleashed the null region against the Commonwealth of Planets. The captain had convinced the Emperor to help weak humanity.

“Whatever,” Strand muttered. “It doesn’t matter…unless Meyers killed Maddox.” The Methuselah Man chuckled nastily, relishing the idea.

He turned his head and spit on the floor. “Damn Maddox. Damn Star Watch. Damn you all!” he shouted, shaking his gnarled fists at a video camera, one of many in his prison.

New Men guardians watched him at all times, no doubt to stop him from killing himself, if he should ever attempt it. The Emperor feared him, but still wanted Strand around for emergencies, to help them in case unexpected alien menaces should rear up that were too tough for the New Men to handle.

Strand lowered his fists and then his head, beginning to shuffle once more. He chuckled silently to himself at how well he played the role of madman—

Strand halted, knit his considerable breadth of brow and started to wonder upon something that had been bothering him lately. Unease had started in him after he’d discovered that Professor Ludendorff had finally learned about the Builder Library World. Strand had stolen the memory from the professor centuries ago, but now the old goat had recalled their time on the distant planet. Strand thought of Ludendorff as a goat because his fellow Methuselah Man loved women with real sexual desire, and often kept a beauty around as his paramour.

“No, no,” Strand muttered. “Stick to the issue, will you?”

What had he been thinking? Ah! He remembered. The Library Planet.

Strand’s head bobbed up and down. Then, he shuffled to a chair, sitting on it and putting his elbows on the table. He resumed knitting his brows as he froze in position and began to use his great intellect to think, to really think.

It was time to devise a plan, a devious twisted plan so he could regain his freedom.

“Ah,” he said, later, realizing something profound. To achieve his goal, he would have to provide critical help to the New Men. He would have to commit a supremely good deed in order to…

His hellish eyes glowed, as he was beginning to see how he could do this and screw smug Star Watch along the way.

-1-

Captain Maddox was definitely out of uniform as he lay on a sandy beach in Maui, wearing dark swimming trunks.

Meta stretched out beside him on her own plush towel. She’d had him untie her string bikini top as she lay on her stomach. Afterward, she’d had him lather suntan oil over her body.

While leaning back on his elbows, Maddox ran his eyes over his wife. She was a babe, all right, a coconut smelling one, nicely tanned, with luscious curves, long blonde hair and longer legs.

I’m living the dream, Maddox realized.

Then why didn’t it feel that way?

The captain scowled, knowing the reason. He’d been arguing with the Lord High Admiral, had been doing so for over a month already. They’d disagreed about the ex-Iron Lady, Mary O’Hara, Maddox’s grandmother and former chief of Star Watch Intelligence.

Thinking about it caused Maddox’s scowl to deepen. He was a long, lean man with muscles like bands of steel. In some ways, he was a New Man, the golden-skinned so-called superman of the Beyond. Maddox was fast like them, dangerous like them—

“Where’s Mary?” Meta asked.

Maddox started, surprised that he’d zoned out while thinking about Admiral Cook’s stubbornness against his grandmother.

Meta had not only turned around from her former position on the blanket but faced the ocean. She used her right hand to hold up her bikini top.

A skinny surfer clutching his board rose from the shore, staring at Meta with teenage fixation.

Maddox’s senses sharpened into focus. His grandmother had joined them on the beach today. She’d gone out on a paddleboard. It took skill and balance to negotiate the ocean’s swells and waves like that, but she was still fit and athletic. Normally she could handle it, but…

Jumping to his feet, Maddox scanned the ocean. They were on a public beach full of tourists. A ribbon of bathers that paralleled the shore played in the shallow water. Farther out, a ribbon of surfers that also paralleled the shore drifted in the swells, waiting for a good wave to ride.

Maddox didn’t see Mary with either extended group.

The captain blinked as worry twisted his stomach. He scanned even farther out—there, he saw her. It had to be his grandmother, right?

“I need the binoculars.”

Meta handed them to him, after digging the binoculars out of their duffel bag.

As Maddox accepted them, he idly noticed his wife had retied her bikini top. He raised the binoculars, training them on his grandmother.

She stood on the board, with the double-bladed paddle in her hands. She wore a modest one-piece swimsuit. She was shorter than Meta, much older, but with firm muscles in her arms and thighs. She had wet curling gray hair plastered against her scalp, indicating she’d spilled into the ocean at least once and climbed back onto the board. For someone her age—over a hundred—she had pleasing features like a woman in her forties. That came from extended life treatments.

Mary paddled firmly, heading even farther out to sea. She was already well beyond the surfers. There was one other paddleboarder up, but he wasn’t close to her, but nearer shore between the surfers and bathers.

Maddox frowned. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint—

He saw it, then—them, rather. It was a school, no, a pod of killer whales, or orcas. They were big, black and white, and cavorting with each other out beyond a line of sailing and private fishing boats.

The killer whales usually weren’t dangerous to the boaters. In fact, people lined the boats’ farther gunwales, watching the sporting orcas, recording the play on their phones. Would the lack of danger hold true for an older lady paddleboarding among the killers?

“Damn it,” Maddox whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

Without looking, Maddox handed Meta the binoculars. He stood, and asked the seeming air, “Galyan. Can you hear me?”

The little Adok holoimage that haunted Victory didn’t respond. It was possible the starship presently orbited the other side of the planet.

“Galyan,” Maddox said, “this is an emergency. Please respond.”

Meta lowered the binoculars. “It isn’t really an emergency,” she said.

“Wrong. Look again, more closely this time.”

Once more, Meta raised the binoculars.

“One of the orcas is heading toward her,” Maddox said.

“…Oh,” Meta said a moment later. “Yes. You’re right. I hadn’t noticed before.”

Maddox’s gut seethed. He didn’t even have a communicator. He had a knife in the bag, but no communicator or gun.

“Maddox,” his wife said, sounding relieved. “Someone on a boat sees her.”

Without asking, he grabbed the binoculars. Concern for his grandmother overrode his normal politeness toward his wife.

Meta must have understood, for she watched him with concern.

Maddox trained the binoculars on Mary, on the orca and then on the motorized sailboat swinging around toward her. He saw a muscular man in an open yellow shirt and shorts at the wheel, and two others with rifles. Something about them—

They’re professionals, he realized, Intelligence agents or military men.

Maddox lowered the binoculars, thinking. Could this be a setup? Would Intelligence agents wait for killer whales to appear near a beach and hope one headed for the ex-Iron Lady out paddleboarding? Did that mean his grandmother had been hearing voices again?

Maddox raised the binoculars a second later, studying the boat heading for his grandmother and then focusing on the lone orca.

“No,” he whispered, slowly lowering the binoculars.

Meta stared at him as she bit her lower lip.

Maddox blinked several times before facing his wife. “There’s a receiving unit embedded in the whale’s upper blubber.” He’d just seen that through the binoculars.

Meta frowned, shaking her head, perhaps not understanding the significance of what he said.

“Someone is guiding the orca,” Maddox said, “guiding it straight at my grandmother.”