The Lost Starship

-8-

While panting, Lieutenant Noonan glared at Captain Maddox. She sat in the passenger seat of his flitter, a fast sportster with a bubble canopy. Below, the mall and the greater metropolis of Paris quickly faded from view as they climbed with unbelievable speed. She couldn’t even see the Eiffel Tower anymore.

The engine hummed, but there was hardly any vibration. This was some craft, clearly a specialty machine approaching combat efficiency.

After that harrowing sprint, Valerie was still sucking down air. Sweat prickled her face and neck.

Maddox glanced at her and flicked yet another switch. A conditioning vent poured cooling air against her skin. She repositioned, opening a top button. Ah, the blowing air felt good.

Valerie liked to stay in shape. Compared to Maddox, though, she was an out of shape slob. The captain seemed placid as he kept checking his instrument panel. He’d sprinted like a cheetah back there. Only as Valerie broke out of the mall, struggling to catch up to him in the parking lot, had she realized a sniper fired at them—not that she’d heard anything. The captain had thrown himself to the paving, and she’d seen something glittery break apart on the hard surface. Maddox had produced a long-barreled gun, snapping off several shots. Then he’d sprinted back, grabbed her and forced her to bend low as they wove through parked vehicles.

She would have asked what was going on, but it was all she could do to keep her legs churning as he propelled her along. Finally, he’d holstered the weapon and pulled out a black unit, pressing buttons. She’d yelped when a flitter literally dropped out of the sky in front of them.

Another of those glittery things broke apart against the machine’s canopy. Then they’d piled in. The flitter lifted before she clicked on her buckles. Now they headed north.

“Who shot at us back there?” she said between gasps.

“That’s a good question,” Maddox said. “I wish I knew.”

“You must have an idea.”

He glanced at her. “There are several possibilities.”

She frowned at him. “I’d guess it was the same people who came for me in the mall.”

“That’s loose thinking at best,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, stung. “That makes perfect sense. They tried to kidnap me in the mall. I saw what the sniper fired at you. It wasn’t bullets. Steel-jacketed rounds don’t break apart on paving or against armored glass. He shot darts. Something with knockout drugs would be my guess.”

Maddox gave her another glance, this one more quizzical.

“Did I say something stupid?” she asked, exasperated.

“I didn’t expect someone like you to be so observant in these kinds of situations,” Maddox said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He raised an eyebrow. “A Star Watch lieutenant. What did you think I meant?”

She said nothing.

“Someone from Detroit perhaps?” he asked.

Her face stiffened. “You listen to me—”

“Save yourself the indignity,” Maddox said. “I meant no insult. I’m letting you know that I’ve read your file.”

“Yeah?” she asked. “What does it say?”

“For the most part it speaks about your competence in your chosen area of expertise.”

“And the rest?”

He grinned. “None of us are perfect, are we?”

“If you think because my family lived on welfare that you’re better than us, you have another thing coming. “

“That’s an interesting word.”

She scowled. “What is? What are you talking about now?”

“Better,” he said.

“What about it?”

“You asked if I think I’m better than you. That’s too broad of a question. I run faster, so that makes me a better runner. As a navigator in space, you would be better. You have to add a qualifier to your statement for it to make sense.”

She debated remaining angry with him, but he had helped her in the mall. The thugs with the black leather jackets… who knew what they would have done to her.

“You’re a slick operator,” she said. “I can see that.”

“And you revert to your upbringing in times of stress,” Maddox said.

“Maybe I do. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“Negative,” he said. “It makes your selection more reasonable.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Who do you think shot at us back there?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities,” he said. “One, maybe the sniper belonged to the men trying to kidnap you. But then, why did they shoot at me?”

“Who were they anyway?”

“Yes. That’s a good question. Could our enemy have moved this quickly? I don’t like what that implies.”

“What does it imply?” Valerie asked.

“That they have operatives within the Star Watch,” Maddox said.

“So, who shot at you?”

“It could be the same people or one of the Methuselah People, a tycoon.”

“Why would he or she come after you?”

“He no doubt believes I caused the death of his son. He wants revenge. Octavian Nerva has the money to hire the best.”

“Octavian Nerva of Nerva Conglomerate?” she asked in shock.

“The same,” Maddox said.

“You have powerful enemies.”

“Not half as powerful as those after you,” he replied.

Valerie turned away, staring out of the canopy. They shot through clouds as they continued to fly north. This man helped me. Maybe he saved my life. I have to quit getting so mad so easily.

Valerie realized her upbringing had made her ultra-competitive. One of her few friends had said she was prickly like a porcupine. “Make people like you,” her friend had suggested. “That will make things a lot easier for you. Besides, you’re beautiful. You should learn to use that to your advantage.”

Well, life hadn’t been easy. Smiling at problems hadn’t helped her any. She’d had to lower her head and charge through her problems. Stubborn pride and hard work had been her secrets.

“So what’s the plan now?” Valerie asked.

“First. I need to know how much you know.”

“Sure. We’re off on the wildest goose chase in the galaxy. We have to find a place that doesn’t exist and commandeer a warship that can do the impossible. Is that the same mission you’re on?”

“If you feel that way, why did you agree to do this?”

“Why did you?” she shot back.

Maddox studied her before saying, “I believed your story about the battle with the three starships.”

“And?” she asked.

“And we need that alien sentinel if we’re going to defeat the invaders.”

“You think the ancient ship exists?” Valerie asked.

“Don’t you?” he asked.

Valerie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose. It doesn’t seem very probable, though.”

“If it doesn’t exist, how do we defeat the New Men?”

“Oh, so we’re done calling them them?”

“We’re in private, not in public.”

Valerie closed the button she’d undone. “In my opinion, the New Men can’t be invincible. I don’t think anyone is. All you have to do is find their weak point and exploit it.”

“I’ve heard worse theories. But what if our point turns out to be weaker than theirs?”

She frowned. “They have a deadly beam. We should start researching like crazy, using what I recorded from the battle. In time, we’ll probably duplicate that beam. That will give us a weapon to bypass their shields. Until then, we play for time in order to do our research.”

“And if they invade en masse before we’re ready?” Maddox asked.

“Then that’s how we stop them,” Valerie said. “We hit them with mass, trading ten ships for one of theirs.”

“What if they have too many ships to make the formula sustainable?”

“I doubt they do. We must have a far larger population and industrial base.”

“Hang on,” Maddox said.

She glanced at him, not getting it.

“Hang on,” he repeated. “We’re going to turn.”

Oh. She grabbed an armrest and hunkered lower.

Maddox banked the flitter, and he took them down fast.

“Where are we headed?” she asked.

“Scotland.”

“Any particular reason?”

Maddox nodded. “We have to get our pilot.”

“Who is he?”

“Keith Maker.”

“Where in Scotland is he?” she asked.

“At this time of the day,” Maddox said, cocking his head. He seemed to be thinking. “He should be in a pub in Glasgow, beginning his afternoon beer. He likes to take his time with those. Later in the evening, he’ll start on the whiskey shots.”

“What kind of pilot is he?” Valerie asked. “The man sounds like a drunk.”

“Indeed,” Maddox said.

She gave him a dubious look. “You’re kidding me, right? We’re not really going to recruit a drunk for the mission.”

“By recruit, you mean get him to voluntarily join us?”

“What else would I mean?” she asked.

“Ah. I see. No, we’re not going to recruit him.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Then what are we going to do with a drunken pilot in a Glasgow pub?”

“Kidnap him,” Maddox said.