The Lost Command (Lost Starship Series Book 2) (38 page)

“By eliminating the befouling genetic elements,” Per Lomax said.

“Maybe we don’t want your help.”

“That is humanity’s collective stupidity speaking through you. For no other reasons than sloth and foolishness, your race loves to hinder progress. We will no longer allow that.”

“What gives the New Men the right to interfere with us?” Maddox asked.

“The Life Force Principle,” Per Lomax said.

“What does that mean?”

“Successful and continuous expansion throughout the galaxy,” Per Lomax said.

“We’re already doing that.”

After a moment, the New Man looked away.

“Humanity
is
expanding,” Maddox said, pressing the point. “You’re hurting us by standing in our way. Thus, we will have to eliminate the New Men to protect ourselves.”

“You will fail.”

“I beat you. I succeeded.”

“Your victory was an anomaly, an absurdity.”

“What one can do once,” Maddox said, “one can duplicate.”

“No,” Per Lomax said. “Humanity will fail without our guidance. We have to come to save the human race from its own folly. You have restructured genes. You have the mental capacity to understand the truth of my words. Release me, and I will ask the teacher to reconfigure your mind instead of simply destroying your body.”

“No thanks.”

Intensity flared in Per Lomax’s eyes. He became earnest. “You cannot defeat the New Order. That is an axiom derived from the power of our Life Force. Do not waste your genetic material on this folly. You were bred for better things than to stand in the way of progress.”

My mother escaped from what, a breeding colony, a gene-splicing laboratory? What kind of monster would I be if she’d failed to escape? It killed her in the end.
They
killed her.

“I slaughtered the New Men sent against me on Wolf Prime,” Maddox said, making a sweeping gesture. “We’re going to do the same thing in the Tannish System to your invasion armada.”

“If you are correct in that—you have this ancient vessel, after all—you will be responsible for retarding the uplifting of your species. That would be a crime of the highest order, demanding the harshest punishments.”

“Wrong,” Maddox said. “I’m the one punishing you. I will also enjoy smashing your armada.”

“That is nonsensical.”

“You used my mother in your Frankenstein experiments,” Maddox said. “You made me a—” The captain bit his tongue, bottling his emotions. After a moment, he grinned.

Per Lomax cocked his head. “The Throne World granted you loftier genes. You are better than your compatriots are in every conceivable way. You should be grateful for this gift of superiority.”

Maddox searched the New Man’s face. He didn’t detect madness or hypocrisy in Per Lomax. The other had a different philosophy, using words like
utility
and
good
in an opposite manner as the captain.

The evilest people often regarded themselves and their actions as good. How could Per Lomax, how could a nation of people, have come to accept such a monstrous viewpoint? Why had the New Men ever thought of the idea of “helping” humanity? It seemed like an odd concept to arrive at. What compelled the New Men to want to “improve” the human race?

Maddox considered the latest theory on the origins of the New Men. A utopian group of colonists—the Thomas Moore Society—had fled into the Beyond over one hundred and fifty years ago. The region where they fled was where the first known sightings of the New Men had occurred. Did that mean the New Men were the result of the colonists’ experiments?

The idea made sense in a way, but how could the colonists have built a big enough industrial base to field the technologically advanced star cruisers? How had the colonists developed a superior beam and shield compared to Star Watch vessels?

I’ve looked into Per Lomax’s thoughts. They’re demonic. Maybe it’s time to concentrate on the New Men’s societal structure. Maybe I can find a weakness there to exploit
.

“Who rules your Throne World?” Maddox asked.

Per Lomax seemed to lose interest in the conversation. “You will discover this soon enough.”

“I’d like to know now.”

“Patience is a virtue,” the captive said.

Before Maddox could respond, a ship intercom beeped. “Captain,” Lieutenant Noonan said.

Maddox turned around. “Yes?”

“We’re about to make a jump,” she said.

“How long until we do?” Maddox asked.

“Fifteen minutes, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

The intercom shut off.

Maddox faced the New Man. He would throw the other a curve, to try to play on the arrogance later. “You’ve given me much to contemplate. I hadn’t realized until this moment you had such noble intentions for humanity.”

“You have improved genes,” Per Lomax said, “meaning your mind has a greater capacity than that of a mainline human. That is why I have revealed these truths to you. Gain the Throne World’s good will. Release me, and help me bring the ancient vessel there.”

“That’s an interesting thought,” Maddox said. “Where is the Throne World?”

Per Lomax’s eyes went blank. Without another word, he retreated to the cot, laying down on it.

The interview was apparently over, so Maddox left. It was time to prepare for the jump as
Victory
raced to the Tannish System.

-38-

Several days passed as the starship journeyed through the void of “C” Quadrant.

Maddox spent the majority of his time with Meta. During their many hours together, he asked for clarification about Kane, searching for clues, for anything that might help him understand the enemy organization on Earth. He also wanted her to remember everything that had taken place aboard the star cruiser, especially with the teacher. That proved the most difficult for her to recall, making her frustrated.

“I don’t know!” Meta cried one evening. They were in the armory, checking the remaining space marine combat suits.

Maddox sat on a stool, bent over as he checked an exo-skeleton relay joint. He straightened, noticing the anguish on Meta’s face.

Moving to her, he pulled Meta from a suit laid out on the deck. He kissed her gently, holding her.

There was one moment of convulsion, her arms tightening around him so Maddox found it difficult to breathe. Then, she relented, resting her forehead against the hollow of his throat.

“The teacher’s voice,” she whispered. “It was like he entered my mind, my very emotions. I could feel him twisting them, twisting
me
,” Meta said, with a shudder.

Maddox tensed for another of her two G hugs. It didn’t happen. “Did you try to resist?” he asked, softly.

“I used techniques I learned long ago in the Rouen Colony,” Meta whispered. “I retreated into myself, verbally agreeing with him while building a citadel of self deep inside my ego. Sometimes I wonder, though. Am I still me, or am I a self-destruct bomb waiting for one of the teacher’s commands?”

That was a critical question. Maddox kept trying to discern the answer. He recalled the spy he’d had to kill in New York City Spaceport. Had the New Men altered the man’s mind? Had the teacher twisted Meta’s thoughts long enough to make the damage permanent?

“The New Men are users,” Maddox said, bitterly.

Meta looked up into his eyes.

Maddox grinned at her.

“Why do you do that?” she asked.

He shook his head, not understanding the question.

“You can feel me…bonding with you. Instead of saying something loving, you give me your cocky grin. It’s like armor, as if you’re afraid of becoming too close to me.”

“Meta,” he said, stroking her face.

“Now, you’re avoiding the question, trying to sidetrack me.”

He kissed her, keeping at it for a time.

Afterward, Meta asked, “Why don’t you want to be close to me?”

“We are close.”

“Physically, that’s true. I’m taking about heart to heart.”

He said nothing.

“I’ve told you what I fear,” Meta said. “What do you fear?”

“That we won’t make it to Fletcher in time,” he said.

“No,” she said. “I’m not talking about your mission. I mean inside you. What makes you stare up at the ceiling at night? What gnaws at your heart?”

He smiled sadly at her.

“You can’t tell me what it is, can you?” she asked. “That’s going too deep with you. You want to stay behind your armor so you can appear strong to everyone. You don’t want to show any of your vulnerabilities to anyone, not even to me.”

“We should finish working on the combat suits,” Maddox said.

Meta searched his eyes, and she nodded. “You have to remain Captain Maddox even with me. You’ve built your armor around your soul and you refuse to let anyone all the way in.”

He held her chin in his fingers.

Meta searched his face one more time and seemed to come to a decision. She smiled sadly.

“My strong Captain Maddox,” she said. “Kiss me.”

He did. Then he took her hand, guiding her through the hatch, down the corridor toward his quarters.

***

As Maddox spent the days with Meta, Ludendorff, Dana and the technicians worked overtime on the alien computer, searching, calibrating and finally purging pieces of the Swarm virus. It was hard work, and none of it would have happened without the professor’s continuing insights.

Every time Maddox asked for an update, Dana told him about another half-miracle Ludendorff had pulled out of his sleeve to fix a problem.

“Ludendorff is good,” Dana said. Maddox spoke to her in the cafeteria as they sipped coffee. “But I’d forgotten just how maddening he can be. The professor’s arrogance makes me want to grab his throat and choke him until he admits he’s insufferable. I’d also forgotten how he can pinpoint a problem with…” The doctor shook her head. “…with almost supernatural insights. It’s uncanny.”

“How much longer until you’re ready to turn Galyan back on?” Maddox asked.

Dana looked down at her cup, shaking her head. Then, she stared at Maddox. “I worry about that. The AI has never acted how we’ve expected. Maybe we should keep running the starship on our own.”

“Maybe,” Maddox said, in a noncommittal manner.

Dana frowned. “Why am I the only one who can see the danger of trusting the AI?”

“Without Galyan, I doubt we’ll figure out the more powerful weaponry. This is a matter of need.”

“I hope you’re right, Captain. I sincerely do.”

***

The hour of decision finally arrived. Maddox squeezed into a cramped AI chamber that buzzed with electrical noise. It felt as if ants crawled across his skin. The professor worked on a panel, tapping endlessly, looking up and checking a board and then tapping a new sequence. Ludendorff must have known he was here, but chose to ignore him.

Maddox endured the discomfort. He’d been thinking about something Dana had said regarding the professor’s “miracles.”

Ten minutes later, the professor straightened and glanced back.

“I’ve been wondering about something,” Maddox said. “How did you know to search for a Swarm virus?”

Ludendorff hesitated before saying, “I doubt you would believe me if I told you.”

Maddox didn’t look any different, but he watched the professor more closely. “Tell me anyway,” the captain said.

Ludendorff shrugged. “I discovered the possibility on Wolf Prime, deep in the hive. I won’t bore you with a tedious rendition of the tale.”

“I wish you would. I’m interested.”

Ludendorff smiled, putting creases in his face. “It’s time to reboot Galyan and find out if he can help me fix the starship’s defunct weapons systems. Afterward, we’ll have to rendezvous with Admiral Fletcher and devise an operational plan. He should be able to tell us interesting information. The admiral has faced the New Men in battle, I believe.”

“The reports say Fletcher destroyed seven star cruisers.”

“The admiral must be formidable,” Ludendorff said.

“He’s a bear,” Maddox said, who’d had his share of run-ins with the man. Fletcher didn’t like or trust him.

“Excellent,” Ludendorff said. “Now, if you’ll get out of my way, I can get out of this horrible chamber.”

Maddox backed into the next room. The professor followed, sealing the access hatch.

“Much better,” the professor said. He straightened his shirt and rubbed his arms, shivering. Then he turned to Maddox. “If you’re a praying man now’s the time. We’re about to reboot. I have no idea what a fully restored, deified Adok will give us.”

“I’ll get the doctor,” Maddox said.

“Yes. That is a good idea. She can help me with the final calibrations.”

The
final
calibrations took five more hours. They jumped once during that time. The Tannish System was less than ten light years away now. It would take three more star jumps to get in range and start searching for the sub-light traveling Fifth Fleet.

Ludendorff, Dana and Maddox stood in the AI control chamber. A tired-looking Doctor Rich turned to the professor. Ludendorff nodded.

Dana turned to Maddox, “This is our last chance to reconsider. Once we turn Galyan back on, I doubt the starship is going to let us turn him back off again.”

“Do you have a specific worry?” Maddox asked.

“Of course,” Dana said. “Galyan is an alien. He won’t think anything like us.”

“He is an Adok,” Ludendorff corrected.

“What do we know about the Adoks?” Dana asked. “Nothing,” she said.

“I beg to differ,” Ludendorff said. “We know many things about the race.”

“Name some specifics then,” Dana snapped.

“They were intelligent, resourceful, thrifty—”

“You could say that about any intelligent species,” Dana said, interrupting.

“The Adoks were peaceful,” Ludendorff said. “You can’t say that about the Swarm or about most human cultures.”

Dana gave him a scornful look. “I know you think they were peaceful, but I can assure you, you don’t know.”

“You can assure me all you wish,” Ludendorff said. “I’ll still know I’m right.”

“Professor Ludendorff—” Dana said.

“Wait a minute,” Maddox said, holding up his hands. “Each of you has his or her theory on the matter.”

“I have more than a
theory
,” Ludendorff said.

“Fine,” Maddox said. “My point is… Forget my point about you two. We need Galyan. That’s all that matters now.”

“We’re taking a big risk reawakening the AI,” Dana said. “I just want you to realize that.”

“Without the use of the better weapons systems,” Maddox said, “we’re not going to defeat the enemy armada. After listening to Per Lomax’s theories, beating the New Men means everything.”

“Fine,” Dana said. “Just don’t come to me later and complain. Don’t ask my help to shut Galyan off again. Don’t—”

“I’ve heard enough,” Ludendorff said. He sidestepped to another panel.

Dana watched the professor, holding her breath.

A spot between Maddox’s shoulders grew tense. This was it. Could Dana be right? Would a fully Adok alien AI—without the Swarm virus—respond much differently than Galyan had been acting previously?

With an index finger, Ludendorff tapped a board.

Lights flashed on various panels. A chamber-wide hum began. It grew louder. Then, side vents opened and a blue mist hissed, billowing into the room.

“Retreat,” Ludendorff said. “The system, or the AI, is gassing us. It must want out of this chamber.”

Did we make the wrong choice? Was Dana right?
Holding his breath, Maddox strode through the hatch. This reminded him of Dempsey Tower in New York City where the chief security officer had tried to poison him.

Ludendorff was the last one out. He closed the hatch and glanced around expectantly.

What’s he looking for?
Maddox wondered.

“There,” Dana whispered, pointing. “Look.”

Maddox followed her finger. Galyan shimmered into existence. The holoimage seemed sharper than before, the eyes a little more deep-set. The captain wasn’t sure how, but Galyan appeared more noble.

The holoimage opened its mouth and spoke gibberish.

“Oh no,” Dana whispered. “We’ve lost the language codex. In the Oort cloud, it took weeks teaching the AI English.”

The holoimage cocked its alien head. Experimentally, it opened its mouth once more. “You did it,” Galyan said, sounding less mechanical than before.

“Driving Force Galyan?” Maddox asked.

“Of course it’s me,” Galyan said. “Who did you expect?”

“Do you remember us?” Maddox asked.

“Your question is ridiculous,” Galyan said. “I am part of the greatest computing system the Adoks ever designed. I have full access to the video recordings of the previous…”

The entire holoimage flickered in a bad reception sort of way.

“Let me back inside the control chamber,” Ludendorff said. “I think I forgot to reengage a setting.”

Nothing changed about the shimmering, flickering holoimage, nor did the hatch reopen.

Dana glanced at Maddox with an I-told-you-so look.

“The Adok must be accessing his six thousand years of history,” Ludendorff said in a low tone. “He—”

“Interesting,” Galyan said, peering at Maddox. “I have you to thank for this. I am whole once again.”

“He did all the work,” Maddox said, pointing at Ludendorff.

Dana made a “harrumph” sound.

“And her,” Maddox added, pointing at the doctor.

“Mere technicians,” Galyan said. “I am more interested in the broad scope. You convinced the infected me to take a chance, to trust…to have faith. I congratulate you on your heart, Captain Maddox.”

“You’re welcome,” the captain said.

“I’m more than a
mere
technician,” Ludendorff said, testily.

The holoimage of Galyan scratched behind his head. “Yes, you
are
more. It was a turn of phrase, a saying among the Adoks. Six thousand years…I find the timescale daunting in the extreme. I fear there has been entropy among many of my systems, particularly the disruptor ray. That would be the weapon system best suited to use against your enemy’s shield.”