The Lost Command (Lost Starship Series Book 2) (11 page)

“I’ll agree to this on one condition,” Maddox said.

“Yes?” Octavian asked.

“You free us afterward.”

Riker groaned, shaking his head. “You can’t trust the man,” the sergeant whispered. “He’s trying to trick you, sir.”

“I’m sorry,” Octavian said. “I can’t give you such a guarantee. You did kill my son, after all. Despite his laziness, I loved Caius.”

“His death was an accident,” Maddox said. “You must come to terms with that.”

“Do you want this Meta freed or not?” Octavian asked sharply.

Sergeant Riker dipped his head. “No,” he muttered. “Tell him no, and detonate your bomb. Don’t let him torture us, sir.”

Maddox stared up at Octavian. “If I sense you trying to gas us, I will ignite.”

“I have already presumed that much,” Octavian said.

“A mere tap of my molars…”

“Come, come, signor,” Octavian said. “Is it a deal or not?”

“Yes,” Maddox said. “I will speak to your security chief. Let Benito take us to the holding cell.”

Riker shook his head.

The body double standing before the captain exhaled with relief. The clone stepped closer. “Thank you, signor. Thank you indeed.” The clone shook the captain’s hand. Then the body double hurried away to safety.

-9-

Maddox sat on a chair, waiting. Beside him, Riker paced back and forth. The captain appreciated the sergeant’s silence. The older man could have been accusatory. Instead, Riker bled off his frustrations the best he could.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Maddox said. “This has gone even better than I anticipated.”

Riker halted and peered questioningly at the captain.

Maddox slid his gaze upward, signaling.

The sergeant glanced around the room, searching.

“They’re well hidden,” Maddox said, referring to Nerva Security microphones. Riker knew that the others listened to them. It was time to get started, to let them understand none of this bothered him. “If it puts you at ease,” Maddox added, “notice the far wall. They’re watching us through it.”

Riker faced the wall. “How can you tell, sir?”

Raising his right arm, Maddox snapped his fingers. “Let us proceed,” he said toward the wall. “I believe you’ve studied us long enough.”

A moment passed, and then the wall changed texture, becoming clear. On the other side, a bent man in a suit peered within. He held onto a cane with a quivering, wrinkled hand. His head seemed too heavy for his frail frame. The skin looked waxy as if it belonged to a mannequin. The blue eyes belied that. They were alive with burning curiosity.

“Call me Strand,” the man said in a creaky voice. “I run Nerva Security.”

“You are a Methuselah Man?” Maddox asked.

The dry lips peeled back. “I have a rare disease. It means I maintain a terrible vitality even as my body withers on the frame. It will no doubt surprise you to learn that I am one hundred and sixty-three years old.”

“Half of Octavian’s age,” Maddox noted.

“A little
over
half,” Strand corrected.

“The conclusion is obvious then,” Maddox said. “You must be good at your job. Otherwise, Octavian wouldn’t spend the fortune he must to keep you alive.”

“Any idiot could have guessed that by looking at me,” Strand said. “That’s what I think you are, Captain Maddox, a fool.”

“Thank you,” Maddox said. “It’s good to know where one stands with his captor.”

“You pretend to be at ease, which I reject out of hand. Despite your idiocy, you must realize that you’re on the edge of an excruciating future.”

“I see,” Maddox said. “You feel confident about the dampening effect.”

Riker glanced at him. “What’s that mean, sir?”

“I felt a peculiar sensation upon entering the cell,” Maddox said. “Signor Strand has just confirmed that he has dampers positioned around us, beaming inward. He must believe the dampening effect will weaken the explosion in my stomach enough to give him time to rush medics within and save my life. Afterward, he can begin his tortures.”

“Though you understood the situation, you freely walked into the dampening chamber.” Strand shook his oversized head. “If nothing else, that brands you a fool. Surely, you realized on the approach to Monte Carlo that you would fail against us. I cannot understand such willfully suicidal arrogance.”

Maddox let a cool smile spread across his face. The failure to this point galled him, hurting his pride. He had believed it possible to lure Octavian into gloating range. That had been his chief mistake. Unfortunately, sometimes one had to stick his head in it in order to learn a truth. That’s what made Methuselah People so potentially dangerous. They had more chances to learn from their mistakes.

“Technically,” Maddox said, “I haven’t failed yet. Waking up on a torture device will be the point of no return for me.”

“You’re wrong on several points,” Strand said. “The critical one is this. We here at Nerva Security want you to live a long, long time.”

Beside Maddox, Riker shuddered.

“Given this is the case,” Maddox said, “I’m curious why you’re bothering with an interview.”

Strand managed to straighten, giving them one of the evilest smiles Maddox had ever seen.

“I see,” the captain said.

“Well, I don’t see, sir,” Riker said, glumly. “What’s he driving at?”

While staring at Strand, Maddox said, “He wishes to test us, Sergeant. He’s wondering what I plan to do in order to escape this cell.”

“I’m told you’re resourceful,” Strand said. “I’d like an example of that for myself. You can begin at any time.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Maddox said. “You caged me, and that’s that. Still, I will point out a key fact. Simple desperation should goad you to action against the New Men. Indulging your hatred against me lacks judgment. Instead, you should utilize my capabilities in conjunction with your own. Clearly, the New Men have infiltrated Nerva Security. I can help you stop them. Instead, you’re wasting this precious resource that you have in me.”

“That’s another sure sign you’re a monkey,” Strand said. “You impress yourself more than anyone else. Now, as to your—” Strand cocked his head. “A minute, please.” The old man scowled. “Wait, wait,” he said, although he didn’t seem to be speaking to them anymore. Using a trembling hand, the old man pressed his ear.

“What’s going on, sir?” Riker whispered.

“Strand is receiving instructions via an earbud,” Maddox said. “He’s a quarrelsome old man and doesn’t like the interruption.”

“Oh,” Riker said.

Strand stood on the other side of the glass, muttering to himself, with his hand pressed against his ear as he continued to listen to the earbud.

Under different conditions, Maddox might have surprised Strand, capturing the Nerva security chief. Riker’s bionic eye acted as a tracking device. The bionic arm possessed superhuman strength. The dampening chamber kept the eye from transmitting and the arm from functioning at full capacity. Otherwise, Maddox would have already ordered the sergeant to rip the door off the hinges. Perhaps there would come a favorable moment—

“It seems there’s to be a change in plans,” Strand growled, as his frail arm swung down from his ear.

Maddox waited.

Strand’s upper lip curled. “You have fool’s luck, signor. A medic in one of our safe houses listened to a strange story tonight. It came from a street thug with both his knees shot out. The medic had scanned the latest alert, which went out after you spoke to Octavian. Since the thug was already under restraints, the medic administered a truth serum to the patient. It turned out that the thug named Jacques was part of the team that kidnapped Meta from Dempsey Tower.”

Maddox raised an eyebrow.

“Several snatch-teams are sweeping up the other participants,” Strand said. “We should have them all in custody within the hour.”

“How can I assist you?” Maddox asked.

Strand rubbed his leathery jaw. “If it were up to me, I’d keep you here. There’s something off about you, Captain. Do you care to tell me what that is and save me the tediousness of breaking you later?”

“Of course,” Maddox said. “I have a keen appreciation for my work. I excel at it more than others believe I should.”

Strand spoke in a grudging voice. “You must have impressed Signor Octavian earlier with your little stunt of walking in on us. It was nothing more than a stunt. You and I both know that, si?”

“If I hadn’t come in, as you say, would you have given the alert the medic noticed?”

“That’s fool’s luck,” Strand muttered.

“I doubt you believe in luck of any kind,” Maddox said. “I suspect you hide a keen mind behind your façade of old man peevishness.”

Strand laughed harshly. “What makes you say something so foolish? I have a rare disease. Octavian Nerva has lived three hundred pain-free years. Wouldn’t you call that bad luck for me and good for him?”

“Perhaps,” Maddox said. He wondered why Octavian trusted such a harsh old man.

Strand shook his head. “You’re a young monkey who makes his superiors laugh. What makes it worse is that you’re a lucky young ape. I despise that about you. Against my recommendation, Octavian believes you’re more use working against the New Men than howling for mercy in our deepest dungeon, at least for the moment. I think we will learn some interesting pieces of information down here from you at a future date.”

“Perhaps that’s so,” Maddox said.

Strand gave him an ugly smile. “Oh, did I happen to mention a little shift in emphasis with your belly-bomb.”

“Not yet,” Maddox said.

“While you’ve cooled your heels waiting,” Strand said, “I discovered the detonation frequency through trial and error. Don’t look so shocked, signor. We used pox-scanners while the device has been under the dampeners. There are no wires from your molars to the carbon bomb in your stomach. That meant a signal had to go there.”

Strand dug in his pocket, pulling out a small box with a button. “Do you see this switch?”

Maddox nodded.

“Benito will carry it and join you on your excursion. If you should call Star Watch Intelligence or take any unwarranted action, either Benito or I from my remote control station shall detonate your stomach device.”

“I see,” Maddox said.

Strand’s blue eyes shone with appreciation. “I will make a prediction, Captain. I do that now and again when I hold all the cards. You will return to me in short order. Then, you and I will have a long conversation about luck.”

“Was Caius Nerva your protégée?” Maddox asked.

The eyes became bright with hatred. Strand pointed at Maddox with a trembling finger. “You have no idea what you did that morning when you struck down Caius, but I do. And I do not forget, Captain Maddox.”

“Did you send the man-hunters after me?”

“No, but I wanted to.”

“Have you ever wondered if your hatred aids the New Men against your employer?”

Maddox watched Strand carefully. The flames in those eyes seemed to leap with fury. Strand’s grip tightened around the box. With a silent snarl, the old man shoved the detonator back into his pocket. Then, as he stood rigidly, the man began to hood his intensity.

Maddox realized there was more going on here than he knew. Maybe Methuselah People played deeper games than anyone realized. Did the treatments do more than just give them long life? Had it changed their minds in some new way?

“When the door opens,” Strand said, “you will follow Benito. He will take you to a flyer. From there, you will go to a ship in the mid-Atlantic.”

“Why there?” Maddox asked.

“I have Jacques and Cabot under sedation,” Strand said. “I believe you’re going to want to be there when we interrogate them.”

“They were part of the team that kidnapped Meta?” Maddox asked.

Strand didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said, “Remember that your bomb is now under our control, Captain. We are jamming the transmitter in your tooth but can turn that off and send the impulse that explodes your belly. If you desire to live, you will do exactly as we say.”

“I won’t forget,” Maddox said.

Strand grinned his evil grin, chuckling as the cell door opened.

-10-

The trip halfway across the Atlantic went faster this time around. The large Nerva flyer traveled at Mach 24 the majority of the journey.

Maddox and Riker sat together. Benito and his seven-foot companions wore regular clothes, with stun guns at their sides. Otherwise, the large compartment was empty of people.

Sergeant Riker stared thoughtfully at the floor.

Maddox stretched out his legs, with his hands crossed on his stomach.

“I’ve been thinking,” the captain said in a low voice. He noticed Benito shift his head. Clearly, the bodyguards wore pickups on their persons, with transmitters in their ear, allowing them to hear any whispers.

“And?” Riker prodded.

“I’m curious to see how the New Men have infiltrated Nerva Security. It might give us a clue how they’ve worked spies into Star Watch.”

“How do you do it?” Riker whispered.

“Excuse me?” Maddox asked.

“Stay so calm with a bomb in your gut,” Riker said.

“Oh.” Maddox shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“They’ll use it to force you back to Monte Carlo.”

“You’re wrong,” Maddox whispered.

Benito sat straightener.

Maddox smiled to himself.

Riker noticed. “I don’t see what’s so funny, sir.”

“Remind me, and I’ll tell you later.”

“They won’t give you a later,” the sergeant said. “Don’t you realize? They’re going to detonate you.”

“My dear fellow,” Maddox said. “You went in and out of Monte Carlo, including spending time in a holding cell. I told you we would come out in one piece. You must trust me in this.”

Riker stared hard at Maddox.

“I want you alert,” the captain said. “Now, we’re almost there. There’s going to come a moment when I need your services fast. Are you up for it?”

“Signor!” Benito called.

Maddox turned away from Riker and concentrated on the seven-foot giant. Benito unbuttoned a pocket on his uniform and withdrew the detonation box.

“One push and you go ka-boom,” Benito said.

“Yes,” Maddox said, “big boom. I have divined your meaning. Bravo, my friend.”

Riker glanced sidelong at Maddox. Something seemed to pass over the sergeant’s tired face. Maybe it was a slice of hope. The older man sat straighter, finally folding his arms across his chest.

“There’s a good fellow,” Maddox said, patting Riker on the knee. “Now you’re into the spirit of things.”

The flyer throttled down. The motion threw everyone against the restraints. The engine no longer purred, but roared loudly. Outside, the Nerva flyer approached a large oceangoing liner.

***

The float-flyer docked beside the ocean liner. Benito and his security team flanked Maddox and Riker. They walked through a boarding tube and crossed the open deck. A stiff wind blew salty spray on them. They entered a hatchway, going down into the ship. Soon, the group entered the upper level of a large theater.

As if they were visiting physicians, Maddox and Riker moved to a row of seats looking down into an operating chamber. Benito and his team sat higher still. The bodyguard held the detonator switch.

“I would like to point out several salient features.”

Looking up, Maddox couldn’t help but notice a gigantic screen. It showed Strand. The Nerva security chief still grinned evilly at him.

“I am still in Monte Carlo,” Strand said. “But think of me as joining you in spirit. Below, the doctors have prepared Jacques. After questioning him, they will bring in Cabot. Are there any questions so far?”

“You’re not afraid of me destroying your ocean liner?” Maddox asked.

“You are in a holding chamber, signor,” Strand said. “Strong plastics will absorb your blast, although it will do nothing to save you.”

“Ah,” Maddox said.

Through the screen, Strand eyed him. “Your sangfroid is legendary, which I suppose you know.”

Maddox made a mock bow.

“You do not disappoint in that regard,” Strand said. “I have come to believe it is foolish fatalism that gives you this stance.”

“You’re entitled to your beliefs, as wrong as they may be.”

“Captain,” Strand warned. “Although I am not with you in the flesh, please be assured that I am running this operation. You will remain whole and healthy for as long as I find you useful in Nerva employ. If you attempt—”

“Yes,” Maddox said, as if bored. “I am quite aware of the situation. Let us proceed. I am eager to find Meta and free her from the New Men.”

“I should worry more about myself if I were you.”

“But then I’m not,” Maddox said. “You are a disease-ridden old man. I am young and full of life. Let’s remember that, shall we?”

“Sir,” Riker whispered in warning.

With a slight hand motion, Maddox waved the sergeant off.

Strand scowled fiercely, his old fingers tightening on the head of his cane. “Yes,” he said harshly. “The sooner we start, the sooner I’ll have you back with me.”

“There you go,” Maddox said. “It’s a pleasure to watch a true optimist at work.”

Riker shook his head but kept his comments to himself.

Strand turned his attention to the proceedings below. It looked as if the doctors and their attendants were ready.

Maddox slid forward, peering past the clear partition. Beefy attendants in white uniforms strapped Jacques into a bulky machine. They attached leads to his skin and placed a heavy helmet onto his shaved scalp.

“What is that?” Riker whispered.

“Another illegal device,” Maddox said. “It’s a mind scanner.”

“They can read his thoughts with that?” the sergeant asked.

“Nothing so direct,” Maddox said. “But it will give them access to his neural pathways. By an application of wattage, they can redirect his answers to truthful utterances. He will no longer be able to lie or equivocate.”

“What?” Riker asked.

“The machine forces him to tell the truth,” Maddox said.

“Does the process hurt?” Riker asked.

“We shall soon find out,” Maddox said.

The captain proved correct as the doctors began the procedure. Jacques didn’t scream, but he moaned often, twisting within the constraints of the large machine. His limbs jerked at times.

“Electrodes,” Maddox explained to Riker.

“It’s inhuman,” the sergeant said.

“Yet like many such devices of that nature, it works. Therein lies the dilemma for society.”

As Strand supplied the head physician with questions, Jacques related the events of last evening. He told the story from his perspective. Beth Paris proved instrumental in their easy access to Meta’s apartment. The street thug gave a rundown of each member of the team.

Maddox snapped his fingers. “I saw them,” he said.

“Sir?” Riker asked.

“In the main lobby of Dempsey Tower,” Maddox said. “I saw a red-haired girl and a large man that looked like an ex-professional athlete.”

“Who was that, sir?” Riker asked.

“This Mr. Kane Jacques is telling us about,” Maddox said.

Down in the chamber, Jacques twisted on the bed of the mind scanner. His jaw sagged, and he seemed reluctant to say more.

“Is there a mental block in place?” Strand asked the chief physician.

“Just a minute, Signor Strand,” the chief doctor said. A nurse wiped a rag over the doctor’s sweaty brow. The physician tapped a panel, adjusting the scanner.

Jacques arched his back with his mouth open and sweat staining his face. He was in agony.

“Shut down level five!” the doctor shouted.

Attendants flipped switches.

On the scanner bed, Jacques began to blink rapidly and make choking sounds.

“Break the mental block,” Strand ordered from the screen. “Don’t let him resist. Continue with level five.”

“Signor—” the chief physician pleaded.

“Do it!” Strand snapped.

With seeming reluctance, the scanner team resumed questioning the patient, increasing the pain level.

Strapped down on the bed, Jacques eyes bugged outward. His twisting caused him to rip loose from several leads. His fingers hooked like claws, he tore at the air. Suddenly, Jacques exhaled, sinking onto the couch, relaxing as he twitched his death throes.

The chief doctor, a tall man, tore off his mask in disgust. He glared up at the screen showing Strand.

“We lost him,” the doctor said.

“Due to your incompetence,” Strand said.

The tall physician looked away. He balled up his cloth mask, but made no more outbursts.

“Bring in Cabot,” Strand said from the screen. “We will continue the questioning with him.”

Cabot proved to have pale features and paler hair. He was tougher than Jacques had been, saying nothing as they hooked him to the mind scanner. Soon, Cabot told his story as the second-in-command, using a tangler to capture Meta. He added little to the tale.

“Well,” Strand asked Maddox. “What do you make of this?”

“Kane is the agent for the New Men,” the captain said.

“Clearly,” Strand said. “It also appears he engineered Meta’s escape.”

“Of course,” Maddox said.

“The question is why.”

“To cover his tracks,” Maddox said. “He took her, leaving these men to hide his trail.”

“Why didn’t he kill them himself and simply take Meta?” Strand asked.

“Perhaps in order to test Meta,” Maddox said.

“I don’t believe that. There’s something else. Something we’re missing.”

“Maybe he’s trying to break her,” Maddox said.

“Explain that,” Strand said.

“Kane set up the situation where she might free herself. Given that she did, he apprehended her. Maybe he believes if he can do that enough times, he will break her spirit.”

“For what purpose?” Strand asked. “The New Men and their agents always do things for a logical reason.”

Maddox shook his head. “I’d have to see Kane, talk to him.”

“Yes,” Strand said. “Mr. Kane.” The old Methuselah Man on the screen peered down at the waiting team.

Maddox thought back to the brief encounter with Kane in the Dempsey lobby. The captain had perfect recall. A red-haired woman had smiled at him. The big man with gray hair and a sports ring had frowned at him. What had he sensed during that brief encounter?

Kane was obviously extraordinarily strong. What had he learned yesterday? Beth Paris had connections with the Chabot Consortium that owned the Rouen Colony. Meta originated from there. The consortium had practiced genetic manipulation on all the miners working there. Meta possessed denser muscles than ordinary people did. Paris had been eel-strong.

The Chabot Consortium…did Kane have a connection with them? By his sheer physical bearing, it appeared so.

“Here is a photograph of Mr. Kane,” Strand said on the screen.

Maddox looked up. On the screen was a still-shot of the man. Yes. He was massive. Maddox had no doubt Kane had grown up on the two G Rouen Colony.

The captain became thoughtful. The New Men were genetic supermen. That gave them a clear connection with the consortium.

This is interesting
, Maddox thought.
Kane might have acted in his own interests, playing the charade with Meta for his own particular reasons. Did Kane know Meta personally from the Rouen Colony?

“Is Kane a New Man?” Maddox asked.

“He lacks golden skin,” Strand said, coming back online.

“One would imagine that an easy problem to solve,” Maddox said.

“Where would Kane go?” Strand asked. “Where would he take Meta?”

Maddox closed his eyes. He had it. He knew how to find Kane. A slow smile curved onto his face. The man had a made a miscalculation last night. It would cost Kane. First, however, the captain needed freedom of movement.

“What is it?” Strand said. “What have you discovered?”

Maddox opened his eyes. “We need to talk.”

“We’re talking now,” Strand said.

“I mean person to person,” Maddox said.

“I’m in Monte Carlo,” Strand said.

“No, you’re not. You rode in the same flyer we did.”

Strand stared balefully at Maddox. Finally, the old man nodded. “Benito, escort the captain to my chamber. Signor,” the old man told the captain, “we will be in the same room, but a blast wall will separate us.”

“I know how to find Kane,” Maddox said. “I want to bargain with you.”

“I thought it might be something like that,” Strand said.

Maddox felt the seven-foot combat specialist behind him, along with Benito’s four companions. As the captain stood, he glanced meaningfully at Riker. Then Maddox allowed Benito to propel him toward a door.

As before, Maddox and Riker walked in front, with the five bodyguards in back. They moved through a narrow ship’s companionway.