The Lost Starship

-10-

Halfway to the flitter, Maddox felt a chilly sensation between his shoulder blades again. Was this the same predator from earlier or someone else?

What did it mean if it was the same person? Could the New Men have put an operative into Glasgow before he set down? Could Octavian Nerva’s hitmen have done that? That seemed almost too incredible to believe. The likelier explanation was that someone else had read the Lord High Admiral’s candidate list. Keith Maker’s name was on it. If that was true, though, why hadn’t whoever else knew this already picked up the ace?

How much of a head start do I have? It may be less than an hour. I know so little. Just how good are the New Men? How good are those working for the oldest Methuselah People?

Keith glanced at him. “What’s wrong?” the ace asked.

That’s what made him an excellent strikefighter pilot. The man pays attention.

“If I go down,” Maddox said. “Leave Glasgow and bury yourself in whatever bolt-hole you’ve made for yourself.”

“Do you think what I do is illegal?”

“Not on the surface,” Maddox said. “You own a bar. But the company you keep—the bone breakers—tells me you might have other activities.”

After several strides, Keith sighed. “You know what the trouble is with the world?”

“I imagine you’ll tell me.”

“Too many people prefer to live in the moment. They’ll sell the future for another few credits today. My problem is that I see too clearly. Once I understood that simple truth, I realized the loan business would be extremely profitable.”

“I believe you mean loan—sharking,” Maddox said.

“I didn’t call it that at first. I thought about the Wallace Corporation. They won in Tau Ceti. You know why?”

“Because they had bigger muscles,” Maddox said.

“You’re a clever chap. You see that money talks louder than anything else does. I’d lost my brother to idealism—” Keith grinned— “to adventure. I decided it was time to cash in, to do things the easy way. I began to make money the way I’d shot down enemy pilots.”

“We’re being watched,” Maddox said, as his neck hair rose. “I feel it. Try to act normal.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Keith shoved his hands into his suit pockets and began to whistle.

The sensation grew until it became too much for Maddox. “Duck,” he hissed. Reaching in his jacket, he gripped his long barrel, spun around, scanned the buildings and barely saw a glitter flashing toward him in time. By flinging himself to the side, rolling on paving, he avoided the dart. It shattered against the nearby wall. Getting up, Maddox sensed as much as saw motion up on a roof two blocks away. He lifted his weapon and deliberately fired twice in that direction. The sniper ducked, and two tiny fountains of masonry blew upward where he’d been.

People on the street didn’t shout or panic at the shots. They were too busy disappearing.

Maddox turned and sprinted along the sidewalk. Keith Maker was already halfway down the block. The kid could travel. As Maddox ran after the ace, he took out a call unit and pressed a switch. Would Lieutenant Noonan know what to do?

“Cross the street!” Maddox shouted. Intuition told him to duck again. He did, and another dart hissed past his head, lifting hairs.

Then Maddox ran across the street. He fired at the same building. Afterward, he tucked his gun away, sprinting onto the other side. Keith panted, wiping sweat out of his eyes.

They converged on a cross street, with an intervening building blocking the sniper’s line-of-sight.

“I’m out of shape,” Keith said, breathing hard.

With his forearm, Maddox pushed the smaller man against the brick wall, the one facing the direction of the sniper.

“He’ll be moving into a new location,” Keith said. “It’s what I’d do.”

Maddox looked up into the sky. Where was Lieutenant Noonan? He took out the call unit and pressed it again.

“Reinforcements?” asked Keith.

A flitter appeared. It moved smoothly over the buildings by about one hundred feet.

“That’s illegal,” Keith said, noticing the car. “You’ll have the Air Patrol on us in no time.”

The flitter changed directions, and it came down fast, screeching as the bottom struck the middle of the cross street.

“Second-rate pilot,” Keith observed.

Maddox was already moving. The bubble canopy slid open.

Lieutenant Noonan had a disheveled look. “I told you I could do it.” She took in Keith Maker, and then gave Maddox a questioning look.

“A slight change in plans,” Maddox said. “Scoot over.”

“I can drive,” she said. “I already proved that.”

“This isn’t a debating society, Lieutenant,” Maddox said in a crisp voice.

She became stiff-lipped and slid into the passenger side.

In theory, there was a backseat, but it didn’t really seem big enough for anyone but a child. As Maddox ran around the front of the flitter, Keith approached the passenger side.

“Tight fit,” he said, “but I’ve been in worse.” He climbed into the back, sitting sideways with his feet on the upholstery.

“Wedge yourself in tight,” Maddox said, climbing behind the controls. “We’re going fast, and we have a lot of distance to travel.”

“Where’s the next stop?” Keith asked.

Maddox began tapping controls. The canopy closed and the flitter lifted. “Whoever shot at us must be tracking the vehicle. Now hang on, and belt in.”

“Don’t know that I can do that back here,” Keith said, looking around.

Lieutenant Noonan clicked her buckles into place.

Maddox first gained some height. Then he aimed the flitter’s nose toward the clouds, and he gunned it. The Gs pressed him backward into the cushioned seat.

“I’ll ask again,” Keith said. “Where are we headed in such a hurry?”

“Luna orbit,” Maddox said.

“You must be bloody kidding,” Keith said. “We’re going orbital in this little thing?”

“He said into Luna orbit,” Noonan said.

“What?” Keith asked. “This machine is too small to get us to the moon.”

“You’re right,” Maddox said. “Fortunately, we only have to go part way. Our scout will home in on my beacon.”

“That’s bloody clever,” Keith said. “But what if the competition homes in on the same beacon?”

“Are you a praying man?” Maddox asked.

“What?” Keith asked. “No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What about you?” Maddox asked Noonan.

“Sometimes,” she said. “Should I start?”

“Please.”

One thing helped them tremendously. Supply shuttles, heavy lifters and plain old-fashioned laser-launched rockets boiled from the surface in bewildering numbers up into orbit.

The many cargo-haulers carried munitions, spare parts and personnel to the waiting naval vessels parked in Earth orbit. The bigger shuttles headed for the even greater number of military craft around Luna Base. News of the golden-skinned invaders had radiated everywhere. The Commonwealth Council had decided that humanity’s homeworld would remain as secure as possible from enemy assaults. It meant that at least one quarter of the Star Watch had permanent patrol duty in the Solar System.

The masses of cargo-haulers lifting from Earth brought hairy traffic control problems. On the way up, Maddox answered four different calls asking for identification and clearance. His still held, but for how much longer? Once, a traffic control officer yelled at him, telling him he was in the wrong zone. He apologized and did his best to reroute. A rocket roared several kilometers away, the laser-ignited flames leaving a smoking trail.

The sheer volume of space traffic shielded them from greater scrutiny. Besides, the flitter was tiny compared to the vessels around it, a mouse skittering across a pasture full of cattle.

“Someone will notice if we drift,” Noonan said.

“Given time,” Maddox answered.

“Does this machine have vacuum maneuverability?” Keith asked.

“How could it?” Noonan asked. “It isn’t big enough.”

“What are you planning, mate?” Keith asked.

“I call it velocity,” Maddox said. The flitter sped for orbital space, using the antigravity pods at full strength and its fuel at a prodigious rate.

Later, they drifted as the flitter left the Earth behind. The blue-green planet had stretched from horizon to horizon a half hour ago. With the naked eye, they’d seen several shuttles docking with a massive battleship, no doubt unloading supplies. Now, the planet was three times the size of the moon as seen from Earth on a clear evening.

The antigravity pods had reversed, giving them weight. Air kept recycling as it hissed through the conditioner vents.

“When this is over,” Keith said, “I would like to purchase one of these flitters. I imagine the Commonwealth Council will want to heavily reward us for what we’ve done.”

“This craft is a beaut,” Maddox agreed, “one of the service’s specialty craft.”

Lieutenant Noonan shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re doing it like this. This is a crazy stunt.”

“To tell you the truth,” Keith said in wistful tone, “this reminds me of Tau Ceti. Our strikefighters had a bit more elbow room. There was a little cubicle in back for calls of nature. We did a lot of patrolling in those machines.” He put a hand before a vent. “I’ve been in a stalled strikefighter a time or two. You had to wait for the repair ship to come and pick you up. It could get awful lonely. Made a bloke think, it did.”

“What are you thinking now?” Noonan asked.

“Eh?” Keith said.

“Never mind,” she said.

“That could be our ride over there,” Maddox said. A red light appeared on his panel. It was the third one to come this close. The other blips had been a mail rocket and a satellite making its orbit. For the last ten minutes, Maddox began to wonder if Keith was right about the New Men homing in on their beacon.”

As if reading his mind, Noonan said, “I don’t know why your brigadier didn’t make this easier for us.”

“The brigadier is terrified of leaks,” Maddox said. Really, O’Hara is terrified of the New Men’s ability. “Otherwise, she would never have made me get the two of you like this. Yes, our exit from Earth is outrageous. It may be all that’s keeping us a step ahead of the enemy. My guess is they’ll start to expect the unusual from us. They’ll adjust.”

“Once we leave the Solar System, how will they find us again?” Noonan asked.

“There,” Maddox said, ignoring her question. “I think that’s our ship.”

Lieutenant Noonan looked where he pointed while Keith poked up his head, peering between the two of them. A point of light the size of a star appeared in the darkness. After a time, the star grew until finally the scout’s main engine nozzle became distinct.

The scout looked like a late twentieth-century shuttlecraft, only five times larger. It had a fusion reactor, a Laumer Drive and space for twelve crewmembers.

“How are we going to exit the flitter and get aboard the scout?” Noonan asked. “I don’t see any vacc-suits in here.”

“We’re taking the flitter with us,” Maddox said.

The lieutenant gave him a dubious glance.

Keith must have noticed. He put a hand on her shoulder. “It will be a snap, love.”

She glared back at him.

“Sorry,” he said, removing his hand, “meant nothing by it. We’re going to be mates, so we might as well get along.”

“Mates?” she asked, bristling.

“He means friends,” Maddox said.

Lieutenant Noonan blinked several times until her brow smoothed out. “Oh. Mates. I’m sorry. It’s been… trying the last few years.”

Keith chuckled. “Not to worry, love. I won’t try to be familiar.”

She turned around, facing him. Then she stuck out her hand. “Mates it is. I’m Valerie.”

“Keith,” he said.

They shook hands.

“Glad to make your acquaintance, love,” Keith said.

Maddox was pleased that Lieutenant Noonan—Valerie—could bend a little. If his crew were at each other’s throats the entire journey, this would never work. Eventually, they had to come together, learning to be a team in name as well as in deed.

“We’ll use repulse power,” Maddox said. He checked the panel. “I still have a little in the batteries.” The flitter hummed as he tapped a control, and the craft began to slide toward the scout.

The bigger vessel had a rakish appearance. It had two gun emplacements, one under each of its stubby wings. The guns would fire a limited number of cannon shells. The scout lacked real armor. Nor did it possess a shield generator, making it nearly worthless in a space fight. The ship’s primary function was to explore, often going down into a planet’s atmosphere to land.

Patrol duty in the scout was dangerous, and in naval terms, provided cramped quarters. It was better than flying an unarmed yacht, though.

Maddox pressed a remote control, and a large bay door in the scout opened. Even so, squeezing the flitter through that opening would be a tight fit. Switching on headlights, he eased the craft through without scraping anything and brought the flitter to a gentle landing. Magnetic clamps took hold, and the bay door began to close.

“Nicely done,” Keith said.

Nodding, Maddox used a control unit. As soon as the bay door shut, large vents hissed an atmosphere into the holding chamber. Soon, the bubble canopy slid away. The scout air was cold with a metallic tang. Valerie shivered. But the air proved breathable.

“We made it,” Maddox said. “Now we have to scoot. I don’t know what kind of assets their people have. But I don’t doubt they have something that can defeat a scout.”

“Our enemy has military vessels they’d dare to use this close to Earth?” Valerie asked.

“Not marked as New Men ships,” Maddox said.

“What will they be marked as then?” she asked.

“My guess would be corporation ships. Maybe even Nerva Conglomerate vessels.”

“Why them?” she asked.

“Because that’s who hailing our scout,” Maddox said, staring at his call unit. “Come on. Let’s get to the control room. I have a feeling we’re going to have to see how fast this thing can really fly.”