Sergeant Treggason Riker paused as he walked through a cleared corridor toward the bridge. The starship’s jump alarm had just sounded.
Riker knelt and then decided his old joints could use all the rest he could give them. He sat down on the deck. A second later, the combination of jump sensations, then quiet and finally, disorienting colors and noises slammed down on his head. He hated jumping, but he was fiercely glad the doctor, Meta and the indomitable Captain Maddox had restarted the AI and convinced it to pilot the starship for a time.
Unlike Lieutenant Noonan, the sergeant didn’t care how they managed such a feat. He had learned a long time ago not to question Captain Maddox.
With the jump completed—the others would need time to recalibrate a host of things before they jumped again—Riker climbed to his feet. His left knee popped and pain flared. Ever since Loki Prime, he’d never quite been the same. That had been a screw-up all right: dropped onto the worst prison planet in the Commonwealth. Only Maddox’s flair for doing the impossible had saved his old hide.
As the sergeant limped for the bridge, Riker recalled the first time he’d seen Maddox do the incredible. They had stalked a supposed cat thief, a veritable spider of a man. Interestingly, they had nailed the suspect at a Nerva laboratory.
The sergeant knew himself to be very old school. An Intelligence operative solved cases through diligence, hard work and asking endless questions and data searches. Eventually, somewhere, the criminal made a mistake. Often, that mistake was bragging about his deed to the wrong person.
That person was usually his girlfriend. It was a tried and true fact. The thief knew the importance of silence, so he kept his mouth shut for weeks, maybe even months. Finally, though, he had to tell someone. He’d committed a fantastic heist, and no one knew how splendid he was. So, one day, the thief would set his girl on his knee and say, “Honey, what I’m about to tell you has to stay just between you and me.”
“Of course,” she always said, “I won’t tell a soul, darling.”
“I’ll have to kill you if you do,” the thief would often say.
“Cross my heart and hope to die if I squeak a word, my love.”
Satisfied with the reply, the thief would tell his woman exactly what he’d done. She’d laugh with delight, hug him and they would go to the bedroom and seal their love for each other.
Time would pass, and the woman would simmer with pride about her man. Finally, her pride would boil over. She’d pull aside her best friend, and say, “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. It will mean my man’s death if you speak a word about this.”
“You can count on me,” the girlfriend would say. “I won’t tell anyone, not even my husband.”
Satisfied, the woman would explain her man’s daring exploit.
The new informant would keep the secret for maybe an entire day. Finally, at night, she’d turn on her pillow and whisper, “You should hear what I know. It’s too bad I promised never to tell anyone.”
“What is it?” the husband would ask sleepily.
“I can’t say.”
“Come on. You have me curious. Tell me already.”
“Do you promise never to tell anyone?”
“Yeah, yeah, I promise already,” the husband would say. He’d hear the story, be duly impressed at the daring and tell his buddies at work about it the next day.
Finally, with his ear to the ground, asking his questions and making data searches, Riker would hear a tidbit. Over the course of several days of footwork and questioning, he’d follow the story to its source. Then, they would catch the thief because the man had to tell someone about his feat.
That was old school Intelligence work, and Captain Maddox knew very little about it. The lean man with his unnatural quickness and athletic prowess must consider himself a lion or leopard in disguise.
Riker recalled that time in the Nerva laboratory at night in the Black Forest in Germany. Maddox had a theory the cat thief would strike that night, and he’d been right. They had chased the man through the building. The thief had raced to a window with his climbing gear still on. Using suction cups, the thief had scaled away outside on the wall.
Maddox sprinted to the window. Riker remembered his lungs aching as he ran to keep up. That hadn’t compared to the astonishment he felt as the captain climbed out the window and began scaling after the thief.
Oh, yes, Riker remembered. He raced to the window and stuck his head and shoulders out. First, he looked down, and didn’t see anything in the flooded lights there, five stories away. A trickle of grit struck the back of his head. He looked up, and Riker remembered his mouth dropping open in amazement. Maddox scaled the brick building using his fingers and toes. The captain must have believed himself half-lizard. Riker had thought so at the time.
Anyway, despite the ache in his lungs, Riker raced for the stairs leading to the roof. He clumped up them and burst through the door. The cat thief lay dead by his rotors, shot through the back by Captain Maddox. The Star Watch officer had barely made it in time as the thief tried to fly away, but Maddox had caught him through an act of bizarre daring.
That’s when Riker had known Maddox wasn’t normal. Maybe he should have asked for a transfer right then.
The old man shrugged as he continued down the starship corridor. The officers running the Star Watch had certainly picked the right agent for the task of reaching the alien vessel. Now, they were going to try to get this machine home again. The New Men needed stopping. Riker wasn’t sure the starship would be enough, not after all the things he’d seen. The New Men were a race of Captain Maddox’s plus. How could humanity keep such a group down?
“Sergeant on the bridge,” Riker said.
Lieutenant Noonan turned from where she sat. The lass smiled at him. “Come in, Sergeant. Please, come in.”
Riker did. He liked Valerie and appreciated the way she did things by the book. The lieutenant didn’t toss outlandish surprises in your face the way a soldier would heave grenades. Maddox was always exploding one wild maneuver after another at him.
It’s a wonder I’m still alive. Imagine, dropped onto Loki Prime and canoeing for my life from crazy-eyed prisoners.
Riker still had nightmares about that, waking up coughing and spluttering.
“Is the starship still on course?” Riker asked.
“Come stand here,” Valerie said, indicating a spot near her view-screen.
He did, and he enjoyed the scent of her perfume. The lieutenant put on just enough. She also kept her uniform crisp and military. Riker did the same thing with his uniform. He liked things orderly.
“Do you see that star there?” Valerie asked. She used a thin metal rod to point at the screen. The tip tapped a yellowish object surrounded by a cluster of other stars.
“I see it,” Riker told her.
“The AI sensed radiation and other background indicators that would seem to mean an advanced society. I’ve been checking for radio waves. Personally, I think I’ve found what we’re looking for. The captain hopes I’m right, but he hasn’t admitted I am.”
“Are you right?” Riker asked. “I mean really?”
“I’d give myself an eighty-five percent probability,” Valerie said.
“Why doesn’t the captain agree, then?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Valerie said. “You’ve been with him the longest. I was hoping you could tell me.”
Riker thought about that. He began piecing together past events. A thought dawned on him. “You know, there’s something about the New Men that troubles the captain.”
“The New Men trouble me,” Valerie said.
“It’s more than their superiority—” Riker snapped the finger of his regular hand. He never snapped his bionic fingers. Even after all this time, he was careful with the bionic hand. He had accidently petted a dog too hard once, and the poor creature had yelped with pain, running away with its tail between its legs. After that, Riker was cautious with the bionic arm and hand.
“What were you saying?” Valerie asked.
Riker hesitated. He almost said, “I’m going to tell you a secret, but you have to promise never to say a word of this to anyone else.” He knew that Valerie would never be able to keep it secret. In time, she would tell someone. If a man wanted to keep something quiet, he couldn’t tell anyone.
“It’s nothing,” Riker said.
Valerie looked up at him. “Sergeant, please, I can keep my mouth shut.”
He remained silent.
“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“No. I’m afraid not,” Riker said.
She smiled at him. “You’re a good man, Sergeant. Captain Maddox is lucky to have you.”
“You should tell him that.”
“I will.”
“Glad to hear it,” Riker said, and he chuckled softly.
They both watched the stars for a time.
“Do you think we’ll make it the star system?” Riker asked.
“It’s fifteen light years away,” Valerie said. “That’s five more jumps. We’re not going to try anything higher than three light years at a time just now. So yes, we should reach there in two or three days.”
“That’s not leaving us much food in the storeroom.”
“No,” Valerie said quietly.
“Do you trust the AI?”
Lieutenant Noonan shook her head. “I most certainly do not. But it’s teaching us the ship systems. I can already perform most of my duties on my own. Soon, we can turn it off for good.”
Riker was glad to hear it. He continued studying the stars. Three more days at the most, if this ancient vessel held together, and they would be in a new star system. What would it hold? Would the sentients there be human, and would they have the needed tools to help effect greater repairs to the starship? He hoped so.
They had to get this vessel home before the Great Space War started with the New Men. Would the enemy hold back long enough? Would Captain Maddox bring them home through sheer force of will?
“We’ve made it this far,” Riker said.
“What’s that?” Valerie asked.
“We’ve made it this far, Lieutenant. We’ve done the hard work. Now we’re like a horse out in the pasture, racing to get home again.”
“Well,” Valerie said. “In my opinion, we can’t do it fast enough. Now, if you’d find a place to sit, Sergeant. I’m going to sound the jump alarm.”
He hurried to an alien chair.
“Are you ready?” Lieutenant Noonan asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Riker said.
Valerie sounded the alarm. A few moments later, they began the next jump.
Captain Maddox’s stomach growled as he stood on the bridge. He was hungry and gaunt. Like Meta, his metabolism burned too hot.
He studied the screen. The G class star waited three light years away, one more jump. They hadn’t detected any spacecraft in the system—not that he’d expected to. Starships were too small and quick to see from such a vast distance. The fourth planet of the star showed industrial technology but no radio waves. Could they be human emigrants from the Oikumene who had fallen back into barbarism? Had they forgotten how to make radios? It was beginning to look that way.
Exhaling, Maddox glanced at the diminutive hologram on the panel beside the screen. It showed the alien commander from six thousand years ago, who looked human enough with his silvery matted hair and dangling arms. They still hadn’t gotten an answer for the tentacle-like control slots. The holoimage of the former commander didn’t look up at him, ever. Was that significant? Maddox hoped not but felt it must be.
Dana had successfully enslaved the AI, which remained coded to his voice. None of the others could understand the holoimage when it spoke. That must have to do with the original brain scan. They hadn’t figured out how to replicate that, and the holoimage seemed to have forgotten what he’d done earlier.
Lieutenant Noonan sat at her scanning station. Doctor Rich remained in the AI nexus. Meta, with Riker and Keith as helpers, tried to fix the main deflector shield generator. It refused to cooperate. That meant the starship had no screens, just its shredded hull armor. They had a single neutron cannon, which so far had proven to be enough.
“We can’t face a star cruiser again,” Dana had told him.
“Do you think they’re waiting for us?” Maddox had asked.
“I think the New Men don’t give up easily. They must realize we escaped the alien system and how we did it. Yes, I think they’re hunting for us. We must be ready for the worst. They’re out there somewhere.”
Maddox’s stomach growled loud enough so Lieutenant Noonan looked up. When their eyes met, she looked away.
“Food,” she said.
“I feel like a desperate predator ready to tackle a bull elephant for lunch,” Maddox said. “We may have to figure out how to use one of the shuttles and take it down onto the fourth planet.”
“I volunteer to go,” Valerie said.
“I believe I’ll be the one going down onto the planet,” Maddox said.
The lieutenant looked up, shocked. “Sir, you can’t leave the ship now. You’re too valuable. No one else can speak with… it,” she said, using her chin to jut at the tiny holoimage.
The thing gave her a fervent glance.
“Sir,” Valerie said, “I think it knows what we’re—”
“Lieutenant!” Maddox said, interrupting her. “Whatever you were going to say, don’t.”
She grew pale, nodding quickly. “I’m sorry, sir. The thing gives me the creeps. It listens to us much too—”
“Lieutenant,” Maddox said, “desist your line of reasoning.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“We’re about to jump,” he said. “We must be ready for anything. Think about that.”
Valerie waited before saying, “This next jump is exciting and terrifying at the same time.”
With his hunger, Maddox found it difficult to concentrate on anything but food. He’d finished the last of his rations. He could commandeer someone else’s, but he didn’t feel right doing so. If this star system failed to provide them with food… nothing else mattered anyway.
“Inform the others we’re about to make the jump,” Maddox said.
Valerie opened intra-ship channels and told the crew to prepare for the next use of the star drive. Then she got up, moving to a different station. There, using the thin rod to tap slot-controls, the lieutenant made the last jump to the new system.