The Lost Tech

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The Lost Tech Page 10

by Vaughn Heppner


  No one answered her.

  She flashed her teeth in an evil smile. Then she waved her quirt, turned and marched away.

  Tobias eyed Dagobert. “Think you’re tough, huh?”

  “Tougher than you,” Dagobert said.

  “Take him to the vat,” Tobias told the other.

  “Aren’t you going to help me? He’s badly injured.”

  “You heard him. He’s tough. If he can’t make it to the vat, then it was never meant to be.” With that, Tobias hurried away.

  “You ready?” the Merovingian asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “All right, let’s do this.”

  So began a horrible and agonizing walk that Dagobert would never forget and, in the end, never forgive. Two names blasted in his mind as he pushed himself and endured the torture: Tobias and Riker.

  “I hate you. I hate you both,” Dagobert whispered. “Someday, you two are going to feel worse than this, and then I’ll kill each of you as I laugh.”

  -18-

  Maddox, Riker, Ural, the other New Man and Grace Hyperion rode in an elevator. Ural had taken the precaution of handcuffing Grace’s hands behind her back. She kept her head down, seething, it seemed, but possibly plotting.

  Maddox noticed Riker fading in and out of consciousness. The sergeant had pulled off a miracle today. It would be a pity if he died because of it. He couldn’t let the possibility hinder his concentration, however. They had to get off Tortuga, get back to Victory and figure out a means of capturing Meyers either before leaving or after. First things first, however.

  “Grace will have guards at the top of the elevator shaft,” Maddox said.

  Ural glanced at him dryly.

  “Okay,” Maddox said. “You knew that. Do we stick a gun against her head and threaten to shoot her if they don’t listen to us?”

  Grace’s shoulders hunched, but she didn’t look up or comment.

  “Concentrate on keeping your sergeant alive,” Ural said. “Let me deal with getting us spaceborne.” He took one of the odd gadgets from his belt, pressing a stud, reattaching the gadget to his belt.

  Maddox made no comment. He assessed, however. Ural had come to Tortuga with a team to capture Meyers, knowing the Methuselah Woman was using the trail of Vint Diem to lure him, a captain of Star Watch, here. He’d fallen for the bait and Meyers’s Merovingians had captured him. At least he’d learned who these armored warriors belonged to. Meyers had also captured Ural. Surely, that had stung his uncle’s pride. Meyers was making super soldiers, according to Riker. She’d used the Merovingians on Earth in Antarctica when the Liss cybers had made their play. Where else did Meyers plan to use the Merovingians?

  “The elevator is slowing,” Ural said.

  Grace finally looked up, glaring at Ural. “You made a mistake, New Man, a bad one. This elevator—”

  She ceased speaking as Ural lifted her chin with a knife blade. “You failed to warn me about the guards,” Ural said. “That is bad form, and I do not approve. However, I find you attractive, decidedly so. You’re big, bold and obviously have good genes. You would sire excellent sons.”

  She blinked at him, perhaps with incomprehension.

  Ural grinned. “I’ve decided to add you to my harem.”

  “You filthy beast,” she cried, struggling against the handcuffs.

  Ural withdrew the knife and cupped her chin with a hand. “You will learn to love me, Grace.”

  Maddox scowled, appalled that Ural found the she-dragon attractive. Well, one couldn’t account for taste. Then again, perhaps Ural had ulterior motives. The woman might sire strong sons indeed. That could be well worth bedding the dame—if one were a New Man with genetic desires.

  The elevator stopped, and the door opened. Ural propelled Grace ahead of him. She staggered and halted, gasping in evident disbelief.

  Maddox helped Riker as he followed the others. The captain nodded as five New Men greeted them, the subdued guards shackled to each other on the floor.

  “Right,” Ural said. “Is everything set?”

  A New Man nodded.

  “Captain,” Ural said. “We have a stiff run ahead of us to the spaceport. Is your sergeant capable of that?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Maddox said. “You go ahead. I can take it from here.”

  “That wasn’t my point.” Ural glanced at the previous New Man. “There’s a flitter?”

  “Yes, Ural,” the New Man said.

  “You see, Captain,” Ural said. “I happen to trust you considerably more than you trust me. Do you find that surprising?”

  “Well…my man did free the lot of us.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’m going to ask a favor, however. Will you grant it?”

  Maddox squinted. “Ah. You wish me to take Grace with us.”

  “Do you mind?”

  “I imagine she’ll end up on Victory if I do that.”

  “For the moment only, as you’ll have a reason to shuttle her to me later. Anyway, we’re wasting time.” Ural rattled off quick instructions. “Does that make sense?”

  Maddox nodded, reaching for Grace, grabbing a fleshy arm. “If you give me any trouble…” he warned her.

  She sneered eloquently.

  “I wonder if you’re giving her into my custody because you believe I’ll be better able to handle her,” Maddox said.

  “You, handle women?” Ural asked. “No. We have a small task ahead of us. I do not wish for any excess baggage while achieving my next objective.”

  Maddox nodded. “Good luck, Uncle.”

  “We’ll speak soon. I’m sure of it. Now, off you go. Time is critical if we’re going to capture the Methuselah Woman.”

  ***

  Maddox piloted the flitter with Grace Hyperion in the front seat with him. Riker lay in the back. The captain flew fast through a tunnel, with hardly any margin for error on the sides and ceiling.

  “You’re going to get us killed flying like this,” Grace said. “Slow down. You’re never going to make it off Tortuga anyway. Do you think the Brethren will allow you to kidnap a council member? We have procedures for emergencies like this.”

  “What kind of procedures?”

  “You’ll find out, Captain. Do you think I won’t remember the humiliations you heaped upon me? This is an outrage.”

  Maddox glanced at her. He wished Keith was flying, but he should be able to pull this off. “You played with fire.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re crying because your fingers got burned. As my uncle said, that’s bad form.”

  She struggled against the handcuffs as she grinded her teeth with rage. “You’re all bastards. You’re smug and think you’re so great. Meyers is going to teach you New Men a lesson you’ll never forgot.”

  “I’m not a New Man.”

  “You called Golden Ural uncle. I think that makes you a New Man.”

  “Is my skin golden?”

  “So you had treatment done to your skin. You’re still one of them.”

  “Hang on,” Maddox said, as he lowered the flitter so they skimmed a foot off the floor.

  Grace closed her eyes, moaning. “I’m going to make you pay, Maddox. I’m going to skin you alive.”

  “I just had a crazy thought. Your sons will be related to me.”

  “And my daughters? Do you hold women in such contempt?”

  “Not in the slightest. Don’t you know that New Men can’t sire women? They lack the X chromosome. They only sire boys. That’s why New Men like Ural are always on the hunt for desirable females. I’d think you’d feel honored he wants to kidnap you as breeding stock.”

  “I’ll honor you the moment these handcuffs are removed.”

  “Just a moment now,” Maddox said. “Your hypocrisy is showing. You’re a Brethren council member, and you’re all space pirates that kidnap people all the time.”

  “For ransom,” she said.

  “Does the reason why matter?”

  “Yes!


  “I disagree. Now hang on. This is it.” Maddox glanced at her. “Oh, you can’t hang on with your hands cuffed. Well, crouch if you’re able, we’re going in.”

  Maddox shut off the engine and braced himself. In seconds, the flitter’s bottom scraped against the floor. Sparks flew, and the screeching noises intensified. The flitter began to slide and swerved around a corner, smashing against one side. It caromed down the tunnel, bouncing, sparking, swerving and smashing. A checkpoint team with a tripod-mounted heavy machine gun tried to scatter out of the way. They were too slow as the flitter crashed against and over them. The small craft jumped up and smashed down repeatedly. Airbags inflated, protecting the three passengers from harm.

  At last, the flitter slid to a stop. Maddox knifed his airbag so it deflated. He rose and cut the sergeant’s airbag.

  Riker stared at him bleary-eyed.

  “Look sharp now, Sergeant, and get out. It’s time to dash to the spaceport.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Maddox cut Grace’s airbag and seatbelt and hauled her upright. She had a cut lip that was bleeding a little.

  “You’re going to be all right,” Maddox told her.

  “No, please. Leave me behind. I don’t want to leave Tortuga.”

  “You have no choice, milady. Here now, don’t struggle so hard. I’ll have to—oh, hell. Let’s get it over with.” The captain pressed a hypo against her so it hissed, using compressed air to inject her with a sedative.

  “What did you put into me?” she demanded.

  “Smile, Grace. You’re getting a taste of your own medicine. Don’t tell me you don’t approve.”

  She glared at him, struggling. Maddox was stronger than he looked, however, as he manhandled her away from the flitter and toward a hatch.

  “No, no,” she said. “Unhand me. I’m a Brethren council member. You don’t dare do this to me.”

  “Riker,” Maddox shouted. “I hope I don’t have to inject you as well.”

  The sergeant had finished climbing out of the flitter and now stumbled after the captain and his prize.

  It took effort for the captain to force Grace to the hatch. He waited for Riker to reach them. “Stand up straight, man.”

  The sergeant did the best he could.

  “Grace, how are you feeling?”

  She blinked several times, turning her head deliberately to stare at him. She actually smiled and then giggled.

  “Excellent, we’re ready. Sergeant, if you would be so good as to open the hatch, we’ll head into the spaceport and purchase tickets. Grace, we’re going for a ride. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, love,” she said, giggling afterward.

  “Maybe you should have given me whatever she’s gotten,” Riker said. “I’d like to feel better.”

  “Soon, Sergeant. Now, no more complaining. Remember, you’re a representative of Star Watch. We want to make a good impression no matter the situation.”

  Riker straightened and tugged at his tunic. Then he activated the tunnel hatch.

  -19-

  They weren’t met with any surprises. Maddox gripped one of Grace’s freed arms and directed her toward a terminal. She giggled from time to time, opened her mouth to say something and then giggled again. She didn’t wear any handcuffs, as the Happy Mist was doing its job.

  Soon, the three of them boarded a shuttle, which accelerated from a launch tunnel and ejected from the surface. The pilot and navigator must have begun their run through the debris field maze to the waiting spaceships half a million kilometers from the surface.

  Grace sat between Maddox and Riker. The Happy Mist was beginning to wear off, so the captain covertly injected her with a knockout drug. Soon, her eyelids fluttered, and she set her head on Riker’s shoulder, snoring lightly.

  Maddox forced himself to relax. The trip would take some time. There were Tortuga security personnel aboard, but he wasn’t worried about them. He had Riker’s revolver and would commandeer the shuttle if the need arose. Distance, they needed distance through the debris field. If they could get far enough—

  Don’t jinx this. Relax. Meyers...I might be able to capture Meyers. That would likely solve a lot of mysteries.

  ***

  Dagobert Dan felt wonderfully better. A surgeon had removed the slugs from his body and smeared healing paste on his wounds. He felt euphoric. The Queen had recognized his abilities. Despite all that, he moved stiffly down a corridor, following a line of people. Some of them wept. Some were Merovingians, snarling in contempt at the losers, the weeping prisoners. Some were silent, burdened under heavy loads in huge duffel bags on their shoulders or lugging massive suitcases. Even though he was wounded and healing, every time Dagobert shuffled forward in line, he picked up two monstrous suitcases, carrying them to his next waiting destination.

  “Next!” an unseen Tobias shouted from ahead around a corner. “Move your arses. The Queen is leaving and we’re leaving with her. Hurry, I said. Don’t make me pound on you with this club. You’ll regret it if I do.”

  Dagobert inhaled through his nostrils. The Queen had noticed him, noticed his fighting strength. She was going to smarten him, make him brighter.

  “I want to be bright,” he said to no one in particular. The idea of it—next time, Riker, Maddox and that damned New Man would not trick him. He would trick them and kill them dead, crushing their skulls. That would be so fun, so very fun.

  Dagobert laughed, the universe being much better than he’d realized. The Queen had noticed him. That was so wonderful, so very wonderful indeed.

  ***

  Five hundred thousand kilometers away on Victory, Valerie ran onto the bridge.

  Galyan turned around. He stood beside the Captain’s Chair. “I am glad you came so fast, Valerie. This is strange and, I think, important. The Tortuga jamming is off, and it has stayed off for over three minutes already.”

  “Contact the captain,” Valerie said as she approached the chair.

  “I have tried, but he is no longer receiving or has lost his communicator.”

  Valerie sat in the chair, her brow furrowed. “Hail the spaceport.”

  “I would wait before doing that,” Galyan suggested.

  Valerie swiveled around to face him. “Explain that.”

  “This is an unscheduled and unwarranted dropping of the jamming field. That would indicate some sort of emergency. What would cause an emergency on Tortuga? I have run the numbers, as you so quaintly put it earlier. The highest probability is that Captain Maddox and the New Men on Tortuga have caused this.”

  “If that’s true, wouldn’t they have tried to contact us?”

  “In most cases, yes,” Galyan said. “Then, I asked myself, why would the Brethren drop the jamming field? How could it help them?”

  “And?”

  The small holoimage shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I do not know. It is a mystery. That lends credence to the probability that the captain or the New Men have caused the emergency.”

  “So, why shouldn’t I hail the spaceport?”

  “Valerie, this is difficult for me to say. But it is intuition.”

  “You’re an AI. How can a computer have intuition?”

  “That hurts, you know. I am a defied AI, which is a different thing. I have a personality, as you should know very well by now.”

  “I’m not saying you don’t, and I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

  “Thank you, Valerie.”

  “But…” The lieutenant fingered her chin. “Andros, are you scanning for unusual electronic activity?”

  She spoke to Andros Crank, a Kai-Kaus Chief Technician: a stout, long-haired individual sitting at the Science Station. The captain had saved him and ten thousand other Kai-Kaus years ago from a Builder Dyson Sphere a thousand light-years from Earth.

  “I am scanning,” Andros said in his heavy voice. “I haven’t found—hello. What do we have here?”

  Valerie leaned toward him, waiting for an explanation.


  “Just a moment,” Andros said, his fat fingers moving across his panel. “I’m detecting something I’ve seen before. Galyan, do you have any idea what this is?”

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “Valerie, this is a match to the transportation rays the weird warriors used to travel from Antarctica to the orbital stealth craft.”

  “You mean when we faced the Liss cybers?” Valerie asked.

  “Yes,” Galyan and Andros said at the same time.

  Valerie frowned. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

  “It is not probable in any case,” Galyan said.

  “Andros, can you tell where the ray is directed?”

  “Not with precision,” the Chief Technician said. He manipulated his board. “I think—the battleships, the general vicinity of the battleships.”

  Valerie’s right hand slapped against an armrest. “Galyan, what’s the probability the people using the ray are transporting the captain and Riker?”

  “Oh. I do not know. That would be bad if they were.”

  “Tell me about it,” Valerie muttered. She bent her head in thought and then snapped up. “Communications, hail the battleships. It’s time we had a talk.”

  The slender woman at communications—Valerie’s normal post—manipulated her board for a long moment before turning to Valerie. “They’re ignoring the hail, Lieutenant.”

  “Maybe it’s time to get their attention,” Valerie said.

  “Lieutenant,” the comm officer said, as she stared at a blinking light on her board. “The Brethren Council is hailing us.” Warrant Officer Shell pressed a hand against the bud in her ear, turning to Valerie. “The council representative demands to speak to you.”

  Valerie scowled, opened her mouth, shut it and nodded. “Put whoever it is on the main screen.”

  A moment later, a scruffy looking man appeared. He had an eye-patch, outrageous sideburns and a red rag tied over his head.

  “Are you serious?” Valerie said softly.

  “Are you Lieutenant Noonan?” the man asked.

 

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