Maddox stared at the Lord High Admiral. He hadn’t expected this.
The brigadier rose and began to move from her desk.
“Stay seated,” Cook told her. “You, too, young man.”
Maddox had belatedly shot to his feet. He paused for a second and then sat back down.
The big man moved stiffly, as if he had bad knees. He probably did. Maddox wondered how old the Lord High Admiral was. Probably older than the brigadier.
With a grunt and the creak of his chair, Cook settled himself. Apparently satisfied with his position, the Lord High Admiral turned to him.
“You’ve made this much easier for us, my boy. I appreciate that. I admit I had a reservation or two about you. Not anymore. You have my complete trust.”
“Thank you, sir,” Maddox said.
“No, no. I thank you. The New Men situation baffles me. How could three ships demolish an entire strengthened battle group like that? Oh, I grant you, the New Men had several edges. They caught von Gunther’s people gripped in Jump Lag. And that beam of theirs that cuts through shields is a real killer. It was all too brisk against armor too.”
“May I ask a question, sir?” Maddox asked.
“Son,” Cook said, “you can ask me all the questions you want, if you do it during the next half hour. That’s all the time I can spare—that you can spare. If we’re going to make this work, you’re going to have to leave fast.”
The accelerated tempo and scope of these events shook Maddox. He needed time to adjust. No. He had run out of time, hadn’t he? He’d have to do his deep thinking later. Right now, he had to go with this and see where it led. The Lord High Admiral had said he could ask anything he wanted. Well, all right then.
“Sir,” Maddox said, “do we have any idea of the number of starships the New Men possess.”
“No idea at all,” Cook said. “Logically, though, we should have more vessels than they do. They started with a tinier base and can’t have anything close to our population levels. However, Admiral Fletcher’s suggestion of compiling one giant armada and rushing them seems too risky. They would surely learn of such a massive gathering. They might also take the opportunity to target our unprotected industrial planets and bomb us back into a primeval age.
“My boy, because the stakes are so high, we’ve decided to use caution and approach this like an interstellar war. That means blocking key jump routes, guarding our most important systems and attacking their strategic lines and industrial bases. If you’re captured, you can tell them all this.”
“I don’t plan on getting caught,” Maddox said.
“Glad to hear it,” the Lord High Admiral said. “Naturally, we’ve sent Patrol scouts into the Beyond.”
The Patrol arm of Star Watch went on the deep recon missions. They were the risk takers and they often traveled years at a time, searching new star systems, expanding the Commonwealth’s knowledge of the Beyond.
“We have to learn more about the New Men,” Cook said. “I mean, actually learn something concrete about them. I don’t have much faith in those missions, though. Likely, we’ll never see those Patrol scouts again, which is a shame.”
The Lord High Admiral’s jawline tightened. “Son, let me tell you, it’s no fun sending volunteers to their deaths. I don’t like it one bit. This isn’t a cold game to me, where people become counters to move across a board. This is a death struggle of competing races, winner take all. I believe that with all my heart.”
The Lord High Admiral glanced at the brigadier. Then, he refocused on Maddox.
The captain could feel the man’s force of will. The Lord High Admiral must have hooded some of it during the meeting yesterday. Not now. Those green eyes studied him with fierce intensity.
“I’ve felt for some time that our enemy believes he’s superior to normal humans,” Cook said. “The people he uses as agents—” The Lord High Admiral waved his big hands. “We don’t have time for a history lesson. They didn’t have to move at this precise moment if they didn’t want to. That they did invade the Oikumene seems to indicate they feel they have enough resources to defeat us.”
From her desk, O’Hara cleared her throat.
“Not now, Brigadier,” Cook said. He focused on Maddox again. “We don’t know their politics. That’s her point. We don’t know their situation. Maybe they’re like the ancient Ostrogoths who fled before Attila the Hun’s grandfather. Maybe some truly wicked aliens are out there pushing the New Men into us. I doubt it, but we don’t know. We’re clueless about far too much. One thing we have an eyewitness to—Noonan and her lifeboat crew told us how three cruisers slaughtered a Star Watch battle group.”
“Could they have planted that?” Maddox asked. “Could they have captured Noonan and given her false memories about what really happened?”
“Sure they could have,” Cook said. “We have experts trying to deduce just that. Some believe that’s the actual case. It’s too hard for most of us to accept three ships doing what they did. Maybe in reality the battle was a slugfest with nearly even sides. The New Men won, captured Noonan and brainwashed her into thinking what she told us. There aren’t any mental marks or other evidence pointing to that, but anything is possible, I suppose.”
Cook shrugged. “If that’s the case, though, we have much less to worry about. Then, when our main fleets engage, we’ll do much better than we thought we would. We’re fools if we hope Noonan’s evidence is wrong. These New Men are a menace beyond anything we expected. And that’s where you come in, Captain.”
“I can’t see how one man can make much of a difference in this,” Maddox said.
“Firstly,” Cook said. “You won’t be one man. You’ll be part of a team, a very unusual team, to be sure.”
Maddox noticed the Lord High Admiral and the Iron Lady trading glances. Okay then.
“How can one team make a difference in such a broad war?” he asked.
“Right. That’s the question.” The Lord High Admiral’s nostrils flared. “You’re about to leave on a quixotic quest, Captain, maybe the craziest assignment anyone has ever gone on. We’re desperate. It’s more than possible that humanity is facing extinction. The New Men strike me as arrogant beyond anything we’ve faced before. The trouble is that their arrogance seems to be entirely backed by real ability. I think they are better than us at waging war and waging a secret spy contest. I think they’re doing unspeakable things to the populations on Odin, Horace and Parthia. I hope to the Lord in Heaven I’m wrong, but I have a bad feeling in my gut that I’m right.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Maddox said. “That doesn’t answer the question, and my half hour is fast running out.”
“You’re right.” Cook glanced at the brigadier. “You want me to tell him, don’t you?”
“I couldn’t do it, sir,” she said.
Maddox was surprised at the tone of her voice. The Iron Lady sounded weary, sad, as if… This will be a supremely difficult operation. That’s what they’re hinting at. She can’t give me the orders to do this because she fears for my life.
For the first time, Captain Maddox felt himself blush. It was a strange sensation. Did Brigadier O’Hara have a motherly concern for him? Did she look at him as more than her star officer? She’d been aware of him since his birth, watching, maybe wondering about him.
Lord High Admiral Cook cleared his throat.
Maddox looked up.
“I’m going to tell you a story,” Cook said. “It’s an old one. You may have heard rumors about it before. There is supposed to be a star system far out in the Beyond. It’s a smashed system, all the planets long ago turned into rubble. Whoever fought that ancient war used planet busters of unimaginable strength. According to the tale, hundreds, thousands of wrecked starships drift as useless hulks. Some believe that aliens battled there while our ancestors chased cave bears from their dens. We’ll probably never know the reasons for the conflict or what drove them to such desperate measures.”
Cook leaned a little closer. “Among the asteroidal debris and dead ships is a working sentinel. It’s a huge vessel still seeking its ancient enemies. Even more importantly, this automated sentinel, this primeval Guardship, contains advanced weaponry beyond anything we have. If the Star Watch could gain this craft, and if it was better than the New Men’s starships, then maybe we could win the coming battles.”
Maddox watched the old man as he spoke. Yes, during his many assignments he’d heard rumors of this sort. The story had wandered through the star lanes for a long time. He also knew that a few prospectors had searched for the destroyed system. The legend went that no one who hunted for the alien super-ship was ever heard from again.
“If this star system is real and the sentinel is there,” Maddox said, “anyone attempting to board it would die.”
“Not if the team doing it had the right personnel,” Cook said.
“Who would these people be?” Maddox asked. “I don’t see how I possess any of the needed qualities.”
“You would bring several elements to the table. First, you would be the team leader, guiding and prodding the others. Second, you’re a specialist at intrigue and subterfuge. Anyone able to pull this off would need such talents. Third, you’re a lethal survivalist. Fourth, if you win your way onto the sentinel, the brigadier and I believe you would be trustworthy as its commander. Lastly, we both think you would make an excellent starship captain.”
“That’s a lot to carry on my shoulders,” Maddox said.
“Come, come, my boy,” Brigadier O’Hara said. “You’re just the man to do it. If you can’t, I don’t know who can.”
“Break onto an alien sentinel from a war six thousand years ago?” Maddox asked.
“Yes,” Cook said. “It sounds mad. That we’re down to something like this shows the desperation of the hour. There’s something else you should know, too.”
Maddox felt the back of his neck prickle. He had felt such stirrings before. It warned him that the old man had saved the worst for last.
The Lord High Admiral scooted his chair around, bringing it closer so their knees almost touched. “Captain, this will be a dangerous mission for more reasons than its objective. After listening to Lieutenant Noonan’s tale, it seems our enemy has infiltrated our various organizations even more deeply than I’d believed. It’s taken me a long time to admit this.” He glanced at the brigadier before staring back at Maddox. “How can one accept such a bitter truth until the reality of it stares one in the face? It’s good the Iron Lady has been at the helm of Star Watch Intelligence all this time. She’s seen more clearly than any of us have.”
“That’s all past us now,” she said. “We’re finally on the same page. That’s what counts.”
Cook stared at his big hands.
“Sir…” Maddox said.
The Lord High Admiral raised his head. “Son, no one on our side can know what you’re doing. That’s another reason you’re the perfect candidate.”
“By no one,” Maddox said, “you mean no one other than the brigadier and you.”
The Lord High Admiral’s features grew even graver. With his eyes fixed on Maddox, the old man nodded.
The captain felt a stir in his heart. Maybe he should have felt betrayed at their suggestion. Instead, a thrill raced through him. Perhaps he had been born for this very purpose. The Lord High Admiral was saying that he wanted him—Captain Maddox—to save the human race. That was an impossible burden. Yet, that was also a goal to fire a man’s imagination. It meant that what he did was vital. It meant that he was important. He mattered in the grand scheme of things. Cook and O’Hara trusted him. In a way, they were like his parents, asking him to save the family.
“Yes,” Maddox said. “I accept the challenge.”
“I haven’t told you the rest,” Cook said.
“I think I already know, sir. You mean to fool the New Men, or their operatives here. That means I will have to act as a fugitive from justice. I will be on the run. In Intelligence parlance, I will be out in the cold.”
“I told you he’s sharp,” O’Hara said proudly.
“One thing troubles me,” Maddox said.
“Yes?” Cook asked.
“You can’t just be sending me out there on a rumor. The operation is too important. That means you have facts about this system, not just old stories.”
“You’re right,” Cook said. “Son… there’s a crazy genius out there, half mad explorer and half compiler of ancient secrets. His name is Professor Ludendorff, and we have some of his notes. Ludendorff claims to have made it to the star system in question. Even more importantly, he says he saw the sentinel and measured a few of its abilities. He says it isn’t just big, but claims the vessel is three times the size of a Gettysburg-class battleship.”
“That’s massive,” Maddox said.
“There’s more. Ludendorff says he studied a few of the wrecked hulks. By examining areas of damage, he claims the sentinel fired some sort of neutron beam. I don’t know if you’re aware, Captain, but our scientists say such a weapon is impossible. If one could develop it, though, that beam would quickly overload our present shields. It couldn’t slice through them like the New Men’s weapon. What the neutron beam would likely do, however, is bypass regular armor. It would hit the inner systems with devastating power. If that wasn’t enough, the professor claims a shield flickered into place over the sentinel on two occasions. The second time, he had his instruments running. The shield must have used dampeners, increasing its strength compared to our shields and changing its complexion. There are reasons to believe this shield would hold up against the New Men’s beam. That would give the sentinel a deadly advantage against our enemies, giving us a tactical edge, maybe enough to win fleet actions.”
“I’d like to talk to this professor,” Maddox said. “Where is he now?”
Cook shook his head. “We wish we knew.”
“Do the New Men have him?”
The Lord High Admiral raised his hands. “He’s lost. That’s all that matters for now. We have a thick book of his notes. We have also located one of his former assistants.”
“Where?”
“On the prison planet Loki Prime,” Cook said. “It turns out she’s amassed quite a criminal record.”
“What’s the assistant’s name?”
“Doctor Dana Rich,” Cook said. “Among her many talents, she’s a clone thief and computer systems specialist.”
“This is slim evidence to use, some madman’s notes and a criminal’s testimony.”
“The truth, son, is that we haven’t spoken to her. At this point, we’re going off Professor Ludendorff’s notes alone. We also have reasons to believe he’s not as mad as advertised.”
“If Ludendorff was there, why didn’t he board the sentinel himself?” Maddox asked.
“He didn’t have those on his crew who he considered as the right people.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
The Lord High Admiral reached down, taking a briefcase from beside his chair. He set it on his knees, clicked it open and extracted a folder.
That’s quaint, Maddox thought. Why isn’t he handing me a reader?
“I’m told you have an excellent memory,” Cook said.
“Nearly photographic, sir,” Maddox said.
“Read these files. Because of our fear of being compromised, it’s better if you gather these people on the run than if we send them to you. I suspect you’ll find they are an unusual group. There’s a reason for that. Each of them mentally matches the professor’s requirements.”
Maddox looked up.
“Let me rephrase,” Cook said. “Ludendorff believed the sentinel will only accept certain types of individuals.”
“How did he reach such a conclusion?”
Instead of answering, Cook checked his wrist chronometer. “We’re almost out of time, I’m afraid. You should know that your sergeant is already on a penal ship heading for Loki Prime. He will be sent down by pod in the area where Dana Rich is believed to live.”
“Believed?” Maddox asked.
“If we searched her out ourselves, we’re afraid the New Men would learn too much about our plan. They might beat us to her. That cannot be allowed to happen.”
“I’m supposed to break her and Riker out on my own?” Maddox asked.
The Lord High Admiral nodded.
“Sir,” Maddox said. “No one escapes off a Commonwealth prison planet, particularly not Loki Prime.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Cook said. He put his meaty fingers into a pocket, taking out a small disk. He handed it to Maddox. “Those are the codes you’ll need to the prison planet orbitals, Loki System satellites and the location of a fast Patrol scout orbiting the moon. I think you’ll find it’s a unique little vessel.”
Maddox nodded instead of laughing in their faces. Then he flipped open the folder and began to read the first file. He didn’t like what he found. Keith Maker, an ex-strikefighter ace with a serious drinking problem. How did a pilot like that have the right mental qualities? Maddox decided not to worry about it now. Instead, he kept reading. He would remember the facts and mull them over later.
“By the way,” Cook said. “You’ll need a topflight navigator who knows her way around in deep space.”
“Yes, sir,” Maddox said.
“I’m giving you Lieutenant Noonan.”
Maddox looked up. Hadn’t the woman been through enough already? During the meeting, she’d looked worn down. Despite his gut feeling that this was a bad idea, he kept his opinion to himself.
“The lieutenant’s career is in ruins,” Cook said. Perhaps the Lord High Admiral sensed Maddox’s unease about the woman. “By her quick thinking and actions, she gave us a rare window of opportunity. Even so, too many Star Watch officers view her retreat through the Laumer-Point as cowardice in the face of the enemy. This will give her a chance to redeem herself. I think she’s earned that.”
Maddox couldn’t very well refuse the Lord High Admiral. Clearing his throat, the captain asked, “Did she request this assignment?”
“After she learned that her brainwave patterns matched our needs, yes, she did,” Cook said.
Maddox kept his frown inward. This was getting stranger by the moment. “I suspect that means you told her some of the broader picture.”
“Will that be a problem?” Cook asked.
The Lord High Admiral’s question surprised Maddox. He took the opening. “She’s not an intelligence officer, sir. She may have already compromised the operation with her bold recounting of the battle.”
The older, bigger man leaned forward and his eyes radiated intensity. “Then we’d better get started, Captain, before the competition catches on.”
Maddox realized he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Nodding, he looked back down at his folder and continued to read.