The Lost Starship

-9-

Maddox let the flitter drop toward Glasgow. He’d taken himself off the traffic control net as they’d lifted from Paris. Because of an advanced anti-tracking device, the machine would be incognito for an hour, maybe two hours if he was lucky.

Given enough flight time, there would be an anomaly somewhere. That would alert the planetary tracing system. A clock would begin ticking then: the countdown. At that point, it would only be a matter of time before the tracing system cracked his invisibility. He had to be gone from Earth before that happened, or it would jeopardize the entire mission.

The kidnapping attack against Lieutenant Noonan deeply troubled him. The brigadier had suggested the New Men had infiltrated the Star Watch with agents. The strike against Noonan would seem to prove the enemy had burrowed much farther than he’d believed possible after leaving the Lord High Admiral. It made more sense now why Cook and O’Hara had set up the operation the way they had.

Humanity was up against a deadly enemy. If the New Men were smarter than people, as regular humans were compared to chimpanzees, what chance did humanity have?

Is humanity the old breed, the obsolete model? How do you defeat a superior foe? The New Men know us, but we don’t know them. Right now, our advantage appears to be numbers. Are they using the women on Odin, Horace and Parthia to breed vastly more soldiers? Will they outnumber us in twenty years?

Maddox scowled. He needed to concentrate on the task before him. He’d read the personnel files in the brigadier’s office. It gave him a rundown on the candidates. He didn’t really know them yet. Their files helped him to know what to look for.

Lieutenant Valerie Noonan clearly had issues. Who didn’t, though? He’d observed her in the mall dealing with the first kidnapper and the second. The woman knew how to handle herself in a tough spot, although she wasn’t a professional in that department. He had begun to take her measure during their conversation during the short flight.

In his opinion, Lieutenant Noonan wanted acceptance. She keenly felt herself as the outsider. She also carried a two-ton chip on her shoulder. Maddox found it telling that she didn’t rely on her beauty. It told him she likely didn’t believe herself to be beautiful. The concept was preposterous, but there it was, blinking like a neon sign.

From what he’d read, observed and heard from her own lips, he believed she must be an excellent navigator. She might prove to be a difficult companion in the scout, though. Valerie had not liked his running speed or his competence. It threatened her. He was certain anyone who could do something better than Valerie Noonan threatened her. Like most things in life, that had its good sides and its bad. She would not quit easily. Good. The mission would likely prove to be extraordinarily difficult. Quitters were not welcome.

That brought him to Keith Maker. By the file, the drunkard was a quitter. He found the ace’s inclusion on the mission as highly questionable. The man’s brain patterns seemed as if they were the only qualifier.

“Don’t crash us,” Valerie said, sounding worried.

Maddox leaned to his left, looking down at the city. Individual buildings rapidly grew in size. It was one thing to fly a spaceship and another to pilot a flitter about to wreck.

For Valerie’s sake, Maddox eased the rate of their descent. Then he continued to think.

A few years ago, a painfully young Keith Maker had shot down six enemy strikefighters and five bombers, one more than he’d needed to become an ace. He’d fought in the Tau Ceti Conflict, a system-wide civil war. The Star Watch had quarantined the fighting to Tau Ceti. The split on Earth, and on many colony worlds, as whom to back had threatened a larger rift in the Oikumene. Because of that, the Commonwealth Council had decided to let those on Tau Ceti settle the issue there.

Before the quarantine, Keith Maker had joined the gas and asteroid miners rebelling against the Wallace Corporation. He’d been on the losing side. Not that Keith had been around at the end. Before that, the miner chiefs had grounded him. The reason was that he’d endangered his squadron with his drinking. The dividing line in Keith’s combat career had been his brother’s death, a fellow pilot and his wingman.

Until that dreadful day, no one had flown better than Keith Maker could. Afterward, he became sloppy in every way.

Before leaving the brigadier’s office, Maddox had commented negatively on the man, saying, “He strikes me as useless.”

“No,” O’Hara said. “That’s not what our profilers say. You’re going to need a daredevil, likely in more places than we can estimate. If you can get Keith Maker working again, there will be no one better.”

“And if I can’t get him working?”

“Then you’re the wrong man for the mission,” O’Hara had told him.

Maybe I am, at that, Maddox told himself. Just how many broken or cracked tools can this mission absorb?

“What are you grinning about?” Valerie asked him.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re looking all serious as you plunge us to our deaths. Then you start grinning. What are you thinking?”

That I’m as cracked as the rest of you.

“The grin is the realization of how much I’m enjoying your company,” he said.

“Ha-ha,” she said, “very funny.”

Maddox braked, and he brought the flitter down onto a rundown parking pad. There was the good side of Glasgow and the bad. They were definitely in the latter. Most of the parked air-vehicles here were police cruisers and corporation meat-wagons that carried security personnel.

“We’re going to move fast while we’re in Glasgow,” Maddox said.

Frowning, Valerie stared outside at the dingy buildings.

“Worried?” Maddox asked her.

“This place looks worse than where I used to live in Detroit.” She scowled at him. “No. I’m not worried. Why, are you?”

“A little,” Maddox admitted. “The gun laws are enforced in Scotland. So, I can’t give you one.”

“What about that long-barrel under your coat?” she asked.

“I’m licensed to carry, at least for a little while longer.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Didn’t the Lord High Admiral tell you how this was going to go?”

“Maybe I forgot,” she said.

Maddox examined Valerie, deciding against telling her that soon he would be a hunted ex-Star Watch Intelligence officer. He would be in the cold, outside any legal aid.

“We have to go in and out,” he said.

“With a struggling man between us?” she asked. When Maddox climbed out of the flitter without answering, she said, “I’m not sure I can help you with that.”

He looked back at her. “You have scruples against kidnapping?”

“As a matter of fact,” she said, “yes. I don’t believe in making anyone doing anything against their will.”

“That’s a noble sentiment, and it does you credit. Would you prefer to wait here, then?” That’s what he’d wanted from the beginning, but he wanted it to be her idea.

She glanced around. “How safe is this city?”

If he said worse than Detroit, she would probably join him to prove she wasn’t afraid.

Before he answered, she asked, “Is the parking pad dangerous?”

Maddox shrugged to indicate maybe.

“You don’t think I can look after myself?” she asked.

“It’s your funeral if you stay,” he said.

A hint of worry entered her eyes, and Maddox wondered if he’d miscalculated.

“I’ll wait here,” she said. “Give me the keys to your flitter. If it gets too rough, I’ll take it up.”

“Have you ever flown one of these before?” he asked.

“How hard can it be?”

Maddox hesitated before tossing her the control unit. “If you see that light flash,” he said, pointing at the instrument panel. “Take it up and come and get me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Valerie asked.

“No.”

She hesitated before saying, “Sure thing. No problem.”

Maddox nodded once. He wasn’t sure about this. Yet he didn’t want her along in the pub. If she had cold feet about forcing Maker to join the team, he didn’t want her around.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said.

“Whatever,” she said, pressing a switch, making the canopy slid back into place.

Maddox strode to the tollbooth, swiping a false ID credit card through the slot. Afterward, he moved down the rundown streets. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the city creatures had begun to stir. The workers would leave their shifts soon, heading home. That meant the night people had begun to wake up. Already, the first gang members leaned outside their chosen residences. At least, he took them for crawlies.

Humanity had gone to the stars. That hadn’t eradicated poverty, overpopulation and sloth. Some people didn’t like to work. Some weren’t any good at it. Many preferred illegal trades, preying upon their fellow man, or woman as the case might be. Glasgow had its slums, congregated in its welfare island. Instead of an entire city given over to welfare, only half of the population accepted the dole.

Earth was unlike any other world in the alliance. It had a teeming population twenty times the size of the next three largest planets. Humanity had begun here, and it showed in countless ways. Seventy years ago, there had been enforced emigration. That hadn’t worked out so well and had eventually been discontinued. Now, the only involuntary emigrants were those leaving for a prison planet, in other words, the murders, rapists and other notorious criminals.

I wonder where Sergeant Riker is now. I’m going to have to free him from Loki Prime along with this Doctor Dana Rich.

Loki Prime was considered as the worst of the penal colonies.

Maddox zipped up his jacket, turned up his collar and used his right hand to mess up his hair. He still didn’t blend in. He knew eyes watched him, judging whether he would be worth robbing. The predators of this concrete jungle had finely tuned senses. Just like the lions on the Serengeti Plains, they could sniff out weakness. A strong person had little to fear this time of day.

A prickle touched between Maddox’s shoulders. Someone else watched him now, someone dangerous.

Long ago, he had learned to trust his senses. He resisted the impulse to look around. This type of predator wouldn’t scare off easily. He would— Ah. The feeling evaporated. Whatever greater beast had zeroed in on him, had decided this wasn’t the time or place to attack.

As Maddox hurried to his destination, he realized there were too many gaps in his knowledge. He was beginning to believe that neither the Lord High Admiral nor the Iron Lady had told him enough.

How had the enemy known to go after Lieutenant Noonan in the mall? That indicated there had been enemy agents in yesterday’s meeting when Noonan had told her tale. It might even mean the agents knew about his mission. Maybe they wouldn’t know the exact parameters, but they would have learned by now that something was brewing. That might mean killers beyond anything he’d faced before were after him. Octavian Nerva’s hitmen would be like Sunday school teachers in comparison.

Maddox’s gut squeezed. It hit him here, as it hadn’t before, the stakes involved. He was up against the toughest enemy he’d ever faced. Worse, he only had bits and pieces of the real picture.

I’m more out in the cold than I realized.

It might even be possible the Lord High Admiral had sent him on a red herring in order to lure the New Men agents in the wrong direction.

The thought threatened to bring Maddox to a halt. He shook his head. He was letting the enemy rattle him. The New Men weren’t gods. They were beings of flesh and blood. Stick a knife in one and the man would bleed.

Another thought occurred to him. The best place to stop something was in its infancy. If the New Men had an inkling of his prize, they would logically attempt to kill him now.

Maddox flexed his fingers, letting his legs eat up one city block after another. Finally, he reached Danny’s Pub. It was an ancient brick building. There were bars over the windows and garish neon signs of Budweiser and Lagers beer. He pushed through the door into an atmosphere of smoke and beer fumes.

With the defeat of cancer one hundred years ago, the old antismoking laws had changed. People could smoke inside again. Maddox had seen a history show or two on the subject. Some of these drinking establishments looked just as they’d been in the early twenty-first century. It seemed Danny’s Pub was one of those places.

To the side, a man stood throwing darts. He thunked a red one into the “6” area. Other beefy individuals sat at the wooden bar, talking and sipping from their pint glasses.

A small man sat at a table, sucking on a stim stick, making the end glow as he carefully examined his cards. He wore a suit and tie as if it was his uniform, and he looked to be in his mid-twenties. He had sandy hair, a ready grin and mischievous blue eyes. On a right hand finger, he wore a ring with an onyx stone. He sucked the stim stick again, lowered his cards onto the table and grabbed the handle of his pint glass. He sipped golden beer, and for a moment, the merry eyes became hooded.

“Are you in or out, Keith?” a man at the table asked.

The other three card players were bigger and heavily muscled. Maddox took them for debt collectors, experts at breaking bones.

“What will you have?” the bartender asked.

Maddox turned away from the game and moved to the bar, putting a shoe on the foot railing. “Give me your house beer,” he said.

The bartender filled a pint, put a napkin before Maddox and clunked the glass before him. The captain sipped, glanced at the bartender and nodded.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the bartender said. He was a thick man with a shiny dome. “Have a sense about people, I do,” the bartender said, stroking the side of his nose. “You’re trouble.”

“Oh?”

“You watched the card game too closely. Took a keen interest in it.”

The talking at the table stopped. Maddox glanced at the players. All four men stared back at him, Keith Maker having twisted around to do so.

Maddox might render the debt collectors, the dart player, the men at the bar and the bartender unconscious. It would take some doing, though. The easier method would be to shoot them dead, maybe drug Keith Maker and guide the stumbling man to the flitter. Maddox did not intend to kill innocent people, however.

He mentally shuffled through his options. The number of people in the bar at this hour surprised him. After a moment, Maddox decided on his approach and picked up his beer, beginning to guzzle. When he finished the glass, he gasped and clunked the container onto the bar.

“Now give me a whiskey,” Maddox said. “No. On second thought, line up three shot glasses.”

“Do you have the credits?” the bartender asked.

Maddox took out his credit card and slid it to the man. The bartender ran it through a device and slid it back. With his thick fingers, the bartender plucked three shot glasses, pressing them from the inside. He grabbed a bottle, uncorked it and poured until the liquid brimmed to the top of each glass.

The card players still watched, saying nothing.

Maddox grinned, nodded to them and picked up the first shot glass. He made certain not to spill a drop. With a practiced flip of his wrist, he tossed the contents down his throat. It was fiery going down, and the sensation exploded into his brain. In quick succession, he did the same with the other two glasses. His eyes bulged for a moment on the last gulp.

“That’s quite a thirst you have,” Keith said.

With a single finger, Maddox indicated for the bartender to approach. The man complied and opened his mouth to ask something. Before the bartender could get out the words, Maddox poked an index finger into the man’s mouth, rubbing the tip against the fellow’s teeth.

The bartender jerked back, outraged. Maddox caught the big man by the shoulder, dragged him closer and wiped the wet finger against his shirt.

“Next time,” Maddox said, “keep your fingers out of my shot glasses.” He pushed, making the bigger man stumble away.

As Maddox turned, two of the debt collectors stood up angrily. He pretended not to notice, grabbing a chair, bringing it to the card table.

“What do you think you’re doing?” one of the standing men asked.

Maddox laughed good-naturedly, and he lightly punched Keith Maker on the shoulder. “Just making a point, you know. I believe in doing things in a sanitary fashion.”

“You okay, Bernie?” Keith asked the bartender.

The man glowered and spit on the floor. “I say we beat the tar out of him. He’s trouble, Mr. Maker. I can feel it.”

This is Danny’s Pub. Danny was the name of Keith’s brother. He must own this place. Why wasn’t that in the file?

Keith seemed to consider the bartender’s suggestion, finally shaking his head.

The two enforcers sat back down, sliding their chairs to make room for Maddox. He scraped his a bit farther away from Keith.

The small pilot in his suit and tie squinted one-eyed at Maddox. Keith took the stim stick out of his mouth and mashed it against an ashtray.

“Bernie’s right,” Keith said. “You stink of death. Maybe you should move along.”

“Want us to make him move?” one of the bone breakers asked.

Keith kept looking at Maddox as he shook his head. “He’s carrying, Pete. This bloke is a tiger, and you’re a junkyard dog. He’d eat the three of you like that.” The pilot snapped his fingers.

Maddox’s estimation of Keith rose.

“Why are you here?” the man asked.

Maddox reevaluated his plan, and changed it on the spot. “Could I have a word with you in private?”

“Did the Wallace Corporation send you?” Keith asked.

Maddox shook his head.

Keith squinted, peering more deeply into Maddox’s eyes. “That’s quite a trick,” he said thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Maker,” one of the bone breakers asked.

Maddox had the feeling Keith understood that whatever the whiskey had done to him was quickly dissipating.

“Okay,” Keith told Maddox. “I’ll talk.” He stood, picked up his pint and moved toward a back booth. “Don’t touch the cards,” he told the others.

Maddox followed the small man, listening as the three enforcers muttered among themselves. He slid onto the other side of the booth as Keith.

“Let’s make this quick,” the ace said.

Maddox spread his hands palms up onto the table as if he was laying down his cards. “Have you ever heard of the New Men?”

“Do you think I’m an imbecile?”

“Not in the slightest,” Maddox said. “What you might not know was that there was a battle near the Odin System, near in terms of jump routes. The actual fight happened in the Pan System. Star Watch had a battle group. The New Men had three cruisers. The three destroyed everything and lost nothing.”

“If that’s true, how do you know about it?”

Maddox wondered if the other files were as wrong about the rest of the candidates as the one had been about Maker. “A lieutenant escaped in a lifeboat and hid behind an asteroid. After the New Men left, she made it back to Earth.”

Keith ticked off his fingers as his lips mouthed soundlessly. Then he looked up. “That would have happened at least a month ago.”

“Yes.”

“Just saying,” Keith muttered. “Well, supposing all this is true, why tell me? Why would that bring you here?”

Maddox grinned because now he knew how he was going to do this. “We can’t beat their ships.”

“By ‘we’ you mean…?”

“The Commonwealth, the Windsor League—humanity,” Maddox said.

“The New Men aren’t human?” Keith asked.

“Great Danes are dogs, but they probably wouldn’t treat Fox Terriers as equals.”

“No,” Keith said. “I suppose not. Yet, that doesn’t answer the question.”

Maddox leaned closer and told the ace about the destroyed star system and its last alien sentinel.

“I’ve heard a similar story somewhere,” Keith said. “Not with quite the same details, but I’m aware it means nothing.”

“I’m from Star Watch Intelligence,” Maddox said quietly. “I’m going after the sentinel because Earth needs the ship in order to face the New Men on better footing. There’s a professor who has been to the system, and he took notes on his observations of the sentinel.”

“Have you seen those notes?”

“Some,” Maddox said.

Keith pursed his lips, looking thoughtful.

“The professor believes that certain types of individuals have a better chance at breaking into the alien vessel than others do.”

“How would he know that?” Keith asked.

“You were supposed to be a great pilot,” Maddox said, hedging.

“I got by.”

Maddox grinned. “That’s not what your file says. You were something of a miracle worker when it came to strikefighter combat.”

Keith said nothing.

“My point is that some men are fantastic pilots. Some are fools at the controls. If the fool asked you, ‘How do you fly so well?’ What would you tell him?”

“Don’t know that I could tell the fool much that would help him,” Keith said.

“Compared to the professor, we’re all fools when it comes to the alien sentinel.”

“In other words, you don’t know how he knows,” Keith said.

“That’s right.”

“I see,” Keith said. He appeared wistful. “I remember taking some tests in high school. They found I had an incredible aptitude for flying. Went into a special combat program, I was going to join. Then the Tau Ceti thing broke out. Had uncles living there. Anyway, I went AWOL, took a liner to Tau Ceti and told them about my specialty. They let me teach my brother, thinking he must have been as good as me. He wasn’t, but Danny could fly rings around most others.”

Keith adjusted his tie, blinked himself out of his reverie and studied Maddox. “You think I’m one of those the professor spoke about?”

“Yes.”

“That means you’re here to recruit me.”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” Maddox said.

“No?” Keith asked, frowning.

“I was going to kidnap you.”

“Oh. I see. What changed your mind?”

“You did,” Maddox said.

“How did I do that?”

“You called me a tiger earlier. I see you’re one, too. Even if I could kidnap you, it wouldn’t help the cause. Either you’ll come freely, or you won’t be any use to me.”

“Why do you want me on this?” Keith said. “What’s my specific task supposed to be?”

“Pilot,” Maddox said. “You also have the right brain patterns.”

“Do you think I do?”

“I have no idea. I’m taking the brigadier’s word for brain patterns being important, and she’s taking this professor’s word.”

“I’ve already fought in one war,” Keith said. “I don’t relish the opportunity to join another.”

“I understand. Yet, I should point out two important features you’d do well to consider before you say no.”

Keith picked up his beer, sipping. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“The New Men have agents on Earth. If you elect to stay behind, they’re going to be calling on you. Don’t ask me how, but they’ll know I talked to you. One way or another, they will make you talk to them.”

Keith’s eyes tightened. He nodded. “What’s your second point?”

“You once fought to help miners gain their freedom from corporate injustice. This time, you’d be in a fight for the survival of the human race.”

“Do I look like an idealist to you?” Keith asked.

“Not anymore,” Maddox admitted.

“Thank you.”

“You should think about it in practical terms,” Maddox said.

“How so?” asked Keith.

“If the New Men can win as easily as I think they can, you’re done here. We all are. That might take them three years. It might take ten. A practical man, one owning property, no less, would want to stop that.”

Keith made a fist, and he rubbed the onyx against the sleeve of his suit. Then he aimed the ring at Maddox.

The captain almost ducked, wondering if the ring was a hidden weapon. He decided that no, it was just a ring. Keith was attempting to make a point.

“Do you see this?” Keith asked.

Maddox nodded.

“I was never an idealist, but I wanted adventure. There were tons of Scots miners at Tau Ceti. Anyway, my kid brother tagged along, and now he’s dead. I think you’re trying to get me to tag along with you.”

Maddox could see he wasn’t going to talk the man into anything… Either Keith Maker would join or not.

First clearing his throat, Maddox said, “I’m officially asking you. Will you join me on the search for the alien sentinel?”

The smaller man sat back, his gaze fixed on Maddox. “You’re a bloody bastard. If I stay in Glasgow, you’ve made sure I’m a dead man.”

“If you believe what I’m saying is true,” Maddox said.

“So, in your own devious way, you actually are kidnapping me. You’re using force to twist my arm.”

“The force of persuasion only,” Maddox said.

“You’ve boxed me in so I can only make one move. You would have made a deadly fighter pilot.” Keith picked up the pint glass, draining the rest of the beer and belching as he put it down. “You must believe I’m crazy, though. I’m supposed to get up and go with you now, right?”

Maddox nodded.

Keith looked away. He snorted, shaking his head. “Do you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“No.”

“I’m stupidly excited. I’m feeling… alive. I want to drink to celebrate. But that’s what I yearn to escape. At first, I drank to drown out Danny’s death. Now, the alcohol has become my dark abyss. I’m falling deeper into the abyss every day, Mr. Star Watch Intelligence officer. You’re throwing me a rope and shouting for me to grab hold. You’ll drag me out of the abyss. I like the booze too much, though. I’m not the man I was.”

“I’m leaving in a minute,” Maddox said. “Either you come with me, or we’ll have to do this without you.”

“You are a bloody bastard. I’ve never told anyone what I just said. You simply ignore it.”

“I heard you,” Maddox said. “I understand what you’re saying. We’ll have months ahead of us for you to explain your pain in detail. You can tell me everything you want to confess. But there’s one other thing. If you join, you have to agree to take orders from me.”

“Getting cold feet about taking me, are you?” Keith asked.

“No. I’m in a hurry. As I said, I believe I have hunters on my tail. We have to move fast to stay ahead of them.”

“Okay,” Keith said. “So where’s the next stop?”

“Up there,” Maddox said, glancing at the ceiling.

“In orbit?” Keith asked.

Maddox stared at the ace.

Keith began to slide out of the booth. After a half-second, Maddox did likewise.

The small man in the suit and tie turned to the waiting card players. “I have to run an errand. It’ll take me around twenty minutes.”

“Should we leave the cards on the table?” one of them asked.

“Bernie,” Keith told the bartender. “Make sure none of them looks at my hand.”

“Yes, Mr. Maker,” the bartender said. “Can I ask where you’re going?”

“You can ask all you want, Bernie, just make sure you keep a vigilant eye on those cards.”

Bernie the bartender nodded. He wouldn’t look at Maddox.

“Let’s make this quick,” Keith told Maddox.

“Yes, Mr. Maker,” Maddox said.

The words seemed to relax the bone breakers and made the bartender smirk. Then Maddox and Keith Maker exited the pub and hurried onto the street.