The Lost Planet (Lost Starship Series Book 6)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “You say ‘several’ kilometers,” Keith complained. “How many actual kilometers are we talking about?”

  “Nine,” Ludendorff said.

  Keith groaned. “I’d call that several, several kilometers.”

  “Now, now,” the professor said. “We have Captain Maddox and his beautiful accomplice to protect us. Why are you worried?”

  Keith thought about that, nodding a moment later. “That’s a good point. Thanks, old man.”

  “Are any Vendels in our way?” Maddox asked.

  Ludendorff adjusted the device. “I don’t believe so.”

  Maddox studied the junkyard mountain they’d just climbed down. He didn’t see any Vendels. He looked around. There were buildings, towers and metal arches everywhere, all of them wrecked in one way or another. Could the Hall of Mirrors really be nearby?

  “Let’s go,” Maddox said. “Professor, you have point.”

  Ludendorff nodded as he began walking ahead, absorbed with the hand-scanner.

  ***

  The four passed through shadowed valleys with rusted skyscrapers looming over them. They entered and began to cross a kilometer-wide basin of sluggish water, with an oily rainbow of colors splashing at every step. Fortunately, the water didn’t quite reach the top of their boots.

  By the time they reached halfway across, a horde of hooting, talon-shaking Vendels appeared at the edge of the basin where they’d entered.

  “Why aren’t they entering the basin?” Meta asked.

  “They must fear or hate the water,” Ludendorff declared. He turned to Maddox. “Why aren’t you picking them off with your rifle? Are they too far for you?”

  “That and I don’t want to waste ammo,” Maddox said.

  “Meaning what?” Ludendorff asked.

  “The number of Vendels back there and my bullets are about equal,” Maddox said. “It’s better if we can outrun or scare them off.”

  “Do you envision scaring off those savages?”

  “Professor, they aren’t entering the water. Thus, I have no compelling reason to shoot.”

  “Why aren’t they circling the basin?” Meta asked. “Why aren’t they trying to cut us off?”

  “I don’t know,” Maddox admitted.

  “I think I do,” a weary-eyed Keith said. “I watch a lot of nature shows. I suspect the basin is the limit of their territory. They fear to enter another group of Vendels’ territory without a truly compelling reason. Apparently, we’re not enough of one.”

  The Vendels congregated at the edge of the basin raised their muzzles and began to howl, like coyotes howled at the moon. It was an eerie, disquieting sound.

  “What are they doing now?” Meta asked Keith.

  “He doesn’t know,” Ludendorff said. “But I can tell you.”

  “They’re calling the other tribes,” Keith said, before Ludendorff could explain.

  Ludendorff eyed Keith, finally saying, “The pilot has a modicum of wit after all. I agree with his analysis.”

  “Is the Hall of Mirrors that way?” Maddox asked, pointing with his Khislack.

  Ludendorff checked his scanner, soon nodding.

  Maddox studied the howling Vendels before he started for the equally distant shore opposite the savages.

  ***

  “Our luck holds,” Ludendorff said, as he stepped over the basin edge, onto dry concrete.

  “I don’t know that we’ve had much good luck this trip,” Keith said.

  “I agree,” the professor said.

  “But you just said that our luck holds.”

  “Indeed. I have detected a second pack of Vendels. They are fast approaching from the east—from the direction that we’re headed. That means our bad luck is remaining constant.”

  “Where exactly are they?” asked Keith.

  The professor pointed at a huge block skyscraper. “They are less than two kilometers from us.”

  “Which way is the Hall of Mirrors?” Maddox asked.

  Ludendorff pointed at the same block skyscraper.

  “We’ll have to circle around them,” the captain said.

  “A dubious proposition,” the professor said.

  Maddox’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he set out in a new direction, moving ninety degrees from the route they had been traveling. The backpack straps had begun to dig into his shoulders, and his was lighter than Meta’s pack. He glanced back at her. Meta looked tired, and her backpack was definitely bulkier than his was. She was tight-lipped and hadn’t spoken for a time.

  Maddox dropped back beside her. “Are you holding up?”

  “Yes,” she said in a clipped, weary manner.

  “Anything the matter?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Maddox realized she was exhausted. He would have traded packs with her, but he needed his strength. He needed all the wits he could summon. She likely knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to carry the heavier pack at this grueling pace.

  “I see them,” Keith said between heaving breaths.

  Maddox swiveled around. Nine Vendels ran after them. Perhaps forty or more followed at a distance. “Keep going,” he told the others.

  They stopped.

  “Go!” Maddox said. “I can catch up later.”

  “No,” Meta said.

  “Go. That’s an order.”

  Both Keith and Ludendorff took one of her arms. They tugged together, but Meta still did not budge.

  “I can run faster than any of you,” Maddox said. “Go. I have to slow them down.”

  At last, reluctantly, Meta allowed the other two to pull her. The trio hurried away, leaving Maddox behind.

  The nine Vendels still ran, but he could tell they watched him closely. These Vendels seemed to show something other than bloodthirsty desire. They seemed wary of him.

  The left corner of Maddox’s mouth quirked upward. He readied the Khislack, and with eleven deliberate shots, he killed or incapacitated the front nine.

  The other Vendels howled with rage.

  Reluctantly, Maddox turned and started after the others. Shooting the nine Vendels had given him a chance to catch his breath. He didn’t want to run. He didn’t really want to hike anymore. He felt as if some of the toxins in the air had breached his rebreather. He shouldn’t be this tired this fast.

  Maddox took a deep breath. Then, he ran after the others. Normally, he would have caught up in just a few minutes. This time, it took him ten.

  He staggered to a halt, as the others stood before a huge crater in the concrete. The vast hole was almost as large as the water basin had been, making it a circular kilometer.

  “What’s wrong?” Maddox panted.

  “My calculations were off before,” Ludendorff said. “I believe this is it, the above ground entrance to the Hall of Mirrors. If that’s true, this is also the former space-cable anchor point.”

  Maddox peered into the darkness. He spied a huge shadowed realm several square kilometers in size. He realized they stood upon a shelf of earth and concrete. There was no telling how far the subterranean realm extended beyond what he could see.

  “What caused this?” Maddox asked.

  “I have no idea,” Ludendorff said. “I do believe the missing area used to hold the Hall of Mirrors. It was the key to finding the vault holding the ancient Builder scanner.”

  As the professor spoke, sixty or seventy more Vendels appeared down the street. The beasts howled in triumph. As a group, they bayed, dropped to all fours and began charging the landing party.

  -30-

  Maddox peered into the abyss before studying the Vendels. He gauged the distance to the nearest building. They would never beat the savages to it. There was only one hope. Calmly, he knelt on one knee, raised the Khislack—

  “What are you doing?” Ludendorff shouted. “You can’t kill all of them.”

  “If I can’t,” Maddox said, “we die. If I can, we live. Therefore, I suggest you form a firing line t
o help me. If we kill just one Vendel too few, it may well cost humanity everything.”

  Maddox targeted and fired with cool deliberation, trying for headshots. He would have liked to have an over-and-under right about now. A grenade-launcher could have made this a near certain thing. But wishing never got anyone anything. Doing was what counted.

  The others stood beside him. Ludendorff handed his second laser pistol to Keith.

  “Don’t fire until they’re within a hundred meters,” the Methuselah Man said.

  Keith grimaced as he gripped the pistol. His hands were shaking badly.

  Meta had a handgun in one hand and the monofilament blade in the other. She also held her fire, waiting for the beasts to come within handgun range. She did not tremble. She stood beside her lover, ready to defend him to the death.

  All the while, Maddox let the heavy Khislack bark. Three empty magazines already lay around him. Sprawled Vendels littered behind the pack like spent fuel. The others bounded all the faster, snarling with savagery and, no doubt, hot for revenge.

  Maddox shoved another magazine into the smoking rifle. He wasn’t going to kill them all by himself. That was clear.

  A laser beam pierced a Vendel in the shoulder. The eight-foot creature roared horribly but it did not lessen its obscene charge. The problem with the laser was its lack of knockdown power. It was a beam and thus had no kinetic energy. Maddox’s .370-grain bullets had plenty of knockdown power, one of the advantages of a material-hitting weapon versus a beam.

  “I hear a whine,” Meta shouted.

  Maddox heard her, and he even heard the whine. He couldn’t worry about that now, though. He had to make every shot count. He’d already missed several times. He wished he could fire faster and more accurately. He hadn’t counted on—

  The whine became louder. It came from behind. Maddox might have glanced back. No, he concentrated too fully on the thirty or so remaining Vendels.

  Keith beamed, but his ray was wide of the mark.

  Meta fired with a heavy caliber gun, but it took her too many bullets to bring down a Vendel.

  At that point, as twenty-five or more Vendels reached inside the forty-meter mark, a wide yellow beam appeared. It came from behind the landing party, and from their left. It was a wavering thing, and it had an amazing effect upon the cannibalistic savages.

  The remaining Vendels slowed their rapid advance until they stopped altogether. The beasts stared ahead blankly. Several of them stood upright. The rest curled down onto their haunches like dogs, putting their heads on their folded arms. Those soon slept. The four upright Vendels struggled to continue walking.

  “Do not shoot them,” a voice said from behind.

  Maddox lowered his rifle, turning around in amazement.

  A large platform or raft hovered upon the nothingness that made up the vast crater. A Vendel-looking humanoid stood by an upright control panel. He was a little over six feet tall instead of the monstrous eight. This Vendel wore a crinkly blue suit with a helmet. He lacked the savagery of the four beasts trying to walk through the wide yellow beam. Two other suited Vendels—they must have been what the original inhabitants had looked like—fiddled with the beam machine. It was bulky, humming continuously.

  There were five other similarly-suited Vendels. Four of them aimed rifles at the landing party. Among the five was a Vendel with a strange bullhorn. With a gloved finger, he clicked the speaking device.

  “You will lower your weapons or we will reluctantly kill you,” the Vendel said.

  Maddox decided instantly, setting the smoking Khislack on the pavement.

  “No,” Ludendorff whispered. “You can’t.”

  “You must,” the helmeted Vendel said. “You are our prisoners. We tried to keep you away, but you insisted on invading our planet.”

  “Who are you?” Ludendorff asked.

  Behind his faceplate, the Vendel smiled. His lips moved, in any case, and that exposed his teeth. They were ordinary looking teeth, like any humanoid man or woman would have. He clearly had not mutated like the four still-approaching beasts.

  He had sharp ears like a mythical elf and closer-set slanted eyes. He was thinner, too, with longer arms and legs. The Vendel lacked eyebrows and there was no indication of any other hair.

  “Are you going to kill us?” Maddox asked.

  “I certainly will if you don’t all surrender,” the Vendel said.

  “Why are the last four—?”

  The suited Vendel held up a gloved hand, the seemingly universal symbol to shut up.

  Maddox stopped talking as the others set down their weapons.

  “Good,” the Vendel said through his speaker. “You will approach the flyer with your hands behind your backs. We are going down. The Raja will decide your fate.”

  “Why did you launch a cruise missile at us?” Ludendorff asked.

  “You will cease your questions or I will kill you.”

  The raft bumped against the edge of the pavement.

  Maddox glanced at Meta. She gave him a stark look. He nodded imperceptibly. Then, he stepped onto the metal raft, seemingly tripped and stumbled against one of the rifle-aiming Vendels. Without hesitation, Maddox brought his hands forward, thrust them under the Vendel’s armpits had hurled him against another rifleman.

  A shot rang out. Then another. Meta landed on the raft, and pandemonium followed. She used her hidden monofilament blade like an artist, jabbing, slicing and hewing the crinkly-suited Vendels. Maddox ripped a rifle from another alien and used it like a club.

  “Treachery,” the bullhorn-speaking Vendel said.

  The wide yellow light no longer beamed. The sleeping savages woke up. The four that had staggered toward them now snarled with rage, sprinting on all fours.

  Maddox and Meta worked together like a whirlwind. Keith was on his knees with blood gushing from the side of his throat. He held the wound with both hands. Ludendorff sat on the pavement, holding his shattered left shoulder, with his face screwed up in agony.

  Maddox let his pent-up frustration fuel his limbs. He was exhausted, but he pushed himself. More shots rang out, but each marksman was a fraction of a second too late. Maddox shattered his rifle-club against a Vendel’s helmet, sending the humanoid over the edge, to plunge into the vast abyss.

  Two suited Vendels slipped on the bloody deck, cracking their helmets together. Meta stabbed each, killing them. The fight was over almost as quickly as it had begun, with Maddox and Meta having conquered the flyer.

  “Watch them,” Maddox said. “Get over here!” he shouted at Keith and Ludendorff.

  The pilot must have sensed the approaching savages. He lurched, standing, stumbling onto the raft. Ludendorff continued to sit on his butt.

  The forward four of the savages were almost upon them. Maddox jumped onto the pavement, grabbed Ludendorff by the good arm and yanked him upright. The Methuselah Man howled with agony. Maddox shoved Ludendorff onto the raft.

  The captain picked up his Khislack, firing rapidly. The first beast crashed onto the pavement. The second tumbled head-over-heels with a shattered skull. Maddox saw that he wouldn’t have enough time to get the last two. Another weapon chattered like a machine-gun behind him. Meta must have picked up a Vendel rifle, in actuality a machine-gun. The savage jerked repeatedly, a dozen rounds or more riddling his body. Maddox concentrated on the last creature, firing as it leaped. At the last moment, Maddox jumped out of the way. The mewling cannibal landed with a thud, sliding until his head bumped against the raft. It tried to rise.

  Maddox shot it in the back of the head, killing it. He leaped over the twitching corpse onto the raft. The rest of the pack howled with rage, racing to reach them.

  Meta stood by the controls, no doubt trying to figure out how to move the raft.

  “For the love of Saint Pete,” Keith said. He shouldered Meta aside, stared at the panel and removed one of his bloodied hands from his neck. With several taps, he caused the flyer to slide away from the edge. The flyer
kept moving until it was in the middle of the vast crater.

  Once the savages reached the edge, they howled with impotent rage. Several hurled whatever they could find at the distant raft, flinging the items upward like great apes in a zoo.

  “Now what do we do?” Keith asked Maddox. The pilot was pale, having obviously lost too much blood.

  Maddox took a breath, and then a second. “We go down,” he said. “Meta, use a medikit on Keith. See that he doesn’t faint or lose any more blood.”

  “What about me?” Ludendorff complained.

  “Check on the professor next,” Maddox said. He kept his Khislack ready, and he noticed that the speaker for the regular aliens lay gasping on the deck. The Vendel had an ugly, bloody cut on the side. Maybe they could patch him up and find out more about the Junkyard Planet.

  As the raft lurched, heading into the subterranean realm, Maddox looked up into the heavens. What was happening on Victory? None of this down here would matter if Valerie lost the space battle.

  -31-

  “The last shuttle has landed, Lieutenant,” Galyan informed Valerie.

  The lieutenant sat in the command chair, biting the index knuckle of her right hand. She finally realized what she was doing and jerked the knuckle out of her mouth. The commander of a starship had to appear confident, not frightened or even worried.

  She couldn’t worry about Keith Maker. She couldn’t berate herself for having avoided him ever since he’d kissed her. What had she been thinking? Love was so rare in this universe. To flee it when it was offered in good faith—

  “What are your orders, Lieutenant?” Galyan asked.

  Valerie stared at the holoimage. It was so easy for Galyan. He didn’t have feelings like the rest of them. Maybe it would be better if she were deified like him. She would—

  Valerie’s head snapped up. She had to stop woolgathering. She was the commander now. She had to save Victory from annihilation, and she had to rescue the landing party. Was that enough responsibility for her? She’d wanted independent command before. Now, the captain and Keith—sweet Keith Maker—depended on her decisions and skills.

  “Are you ready, Galyan?” Valerie asked. She barely kept herself from wincing at the whiny tone of her voice.