The Lost Planet (Lost Starship Series Book 6)

by Vaughn Heppner

  Maddox decided that he truly liked Lieutenant Sims. “It has been my pleasure, Lieutenant. I appreciate your candor and your fighting attitude. It is a man’s outlook.”

  In his exoskeleton suit, the lieutenant saluted.

  Maddox returned it. Afterward, the captain descended into the glowing shaft,

  Meta followed and Ludendorff brought up the rear. The hum increased as the captain climbed down until he could feel the sound thrumming through his body. The glow brightened as he descended.

  Maddox jumped to the floor and found that it was composed of the same plastic-like substance as the shaft.

  Meta dropped down beside him, and Ludendorff carefully set his feet on the floor. There was a small open area and four entranceways at the four points of the compass. Each entrance had an intense glow and emitted the thrumming sound.

  “Does it matter which way we choose?” Maddox asked.

  Ludendorff consulted his notes and soon shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it does.” He turned to Meta. “How do you feel?”

  “As if I’m about to disprove your intelligence chauvinism,” she said.

  Ludendorff laughed good-naturedly. “This isn’t like a physical contest where one summons conviction and determination. One either possesses the capabilities or she does not.”

  “I can face my fears,” Meta said. “Can you?”

  Ludendorff snapped his fingers. “I can do it like that.”

  “Let’s go that way,” Maddox said. He had been turning in a slow circle. Now, he pointed down a corridor.

  “Why that way?” the professor asked.

  “It gives me the greatest trepidation,” the captain said. “Thus, it’s the one I want to face down first.”

  “How apt,” the professor said. “Let us proceed. Whatever we do, we want to complete it before the Vendel war party reaches the marines. The space marines have no way to retreat and a limited supply of ammunition.”

  “Right,” Maddox said, and he began to march into the chosen corridor.

  ***

  The captain led the way. He marched resolutely, with one hand on the butt of his holstered pistol and the other on the hilt of the monofilament knife. He listened carefully to the hum, intent for a difference in pitch or intensity.

  Instead, the hum droned in a constant manner. It struck Maddox as a giant hive going about its daily chores. After a time, his footfalls took on a hypnotic quality until the measure of his tread seemed to transport him into a different realm.

  It felt as if he floated in time and space. The hum did change pitch, becoming a throbbing sound that deeply penetrated his mind. Even though he marched through a plastic-coated hallway, he seemed to tumble end-over-end to a past existence.

  Here, he was rail-thin, a reed of teenager, living in a government funded, glorified Boy’s Home. He was a loner who was called into the dean’s office far too often.

  Young Maddox had vast potential, but he slacked in his studies. He truly only excelled at sports. The science and art classes bored him. He loved history, but he lived for football, for wrestling, handball and basketball, judo and boxing.

  He remembered a day in gym after school. He had showered, and padded naked to his locker with a towel around his neck. Four big wrestlers had been waiting for him, and by their stances and the stupid cunning on their faces, young Maddox knew he was in trouble.

  “Look at him,” the smallest wrestler said. He was a squat individual built like a brick, but only weighing one hundred and fifty pounds.

  Rail-thin Maddox was in the weight class ahead of him.

  “You’re too tall and skinny to be strong,” the brick said. “Yet you wave your nose in the air like you’re something special. Do you think you’re better than us?”

  Maddox had always been good at reading intentions. These four meant him bodily harm. It was the first time his mind went into hyperdrive as his cable-like muscles hummed with anticipation.

  He whipped the towel off his neck and held both ends, flipping it repeatedly as he had so often seen others do in jest.

  “What’s he doing?” the biggest wrestler, a longhaired ape-like individual with thickly muscled dangling arms, asked.

  Maddox deliberately whipped the brick, aiming for the youth’s left eye. He hit better than he realized.

  The brick yelled in pain and surprise. He jerked back, tripped over a bench and catapulted down hard and fast. He hit the back of his head on the cement floor, and there was a distinct smacking sound.

  The brick relaxed before his body began to jerk spasmodically. The other three wrestlers stared at their friend in shock and bewilderment.

  Maddox slid past them, deeming them more interested in their friend than him. It was a risk. He opened the locker and grabbed his clothes.

  “Hey,” the biggest wrestler said. “Stick-man did this. We ought to—”

  “Shut up, Ted. We got to get help.”

  “I’ll go,” Maddox said. “I’ll get help.”

  Apelike Ted cursed at him, gave Maddox the finger and ran for help.

  The other two wrestlers regarded Maddox.

  He waited for them to make up their minds about what they were going to do to him. His right hand was in the locker. It held onto a hidden flick-knife. If they came at him, he was going to cut them.

  “Get out of here,” one of them said.

  Maddox dressed fast, and he went, his heart pounding but his senses calm in a speed-thinking sense. He realized he had towel-flicked the brick in the eye exactly as he’d intended. The results had been both better and worse than he’d expected.

  As young Maddox exited the gym, he began to tremble. It was for what came next. He hated it in a personal way. It was the worst thing that had happened to him as a youth.

  The brick left school with a brain injury. The rest of the Boy’s Home students had ostracized him after that. They knew he was different. Worse, Maddox realized he was different from the others.

  He had gone to counseling with the dean. What Maddox didn’t know was that someone sinister had turned the dean. The dean had been a trusted individual, trying to help troubled youths. The dean had possessed impeccable training, great charisma and considerable charm as a former star athlete.

  Maddox sensed something wrong with the dean where before the man had seemed harmless. The young loner especially distrusted the suggestion for intense counseling over the weekend. Unfortunately, it was the only way for the dean to clear Maddox quickly of all criminal charges regarding the brick.

  “After we clear you,” the dean said, “we must nip this hyper-aggressiveness of yours in the bud before it gets you into worse trouble.”

  As Maddox marched down the glowing corridor deep inside Sind II, he felt like the teenaged youth of yesteryear. In his mind, he went to the dean’s office on a Saturday morning. A warning in his gut told him this was a bad idea. Yet, he couldn’t see how to escape it. He did not want to go to prison, as the dean threatened he could.

  Maddox quailed, and he almost stopped walking. Sweat appeared on his face. He began to tremble. This was a wretched experience. He had trusted the dean. The man had seemed so likeable.

  I must continue. I must break through.

  Maddox’s eyes narrowed as if he squinted down a gun-sight. His heart raced and his palms became sweaty. He would face his fear. He would continue.

  In his mind, Maddox replayed the terrible episode. The dean spoke to him in the otherwise empty counseling office. The big man told Maddox to remain seated as he, the dean, walked around the room.

  The dean was not only big but he was also strong. The man lifted weights and must have used steroids. He grinned at Maddox far too much, and there was something disturbing about his eyes.

  During one of his passes through the room, the dean had locked the door. He put the key in his front pants pocket.

  “We will try something new,” the dean said. “You are far too confident, too sure of yourself. I’m going to handcuff you—”
/>   “What?” young Maddox asked.

  “I will handcuff you so you learn to overcome this supposed feeling of vulnerability. I believe that is what compelled you to attack Varus Jones.”

  Maddox began shaking his head. He didn’t like the idea at all. No one was going to handcuff him without a fight.

  The dean opened a drawer and took out a pair of handcuffs. “Believe me,” the brawny man said. “This is the fastest way I know to cure you.”

  A bad feeling pounded in Maddox’s chest. The brawny dean smiled, but there was something evil in the gesture.

  Maddox stood up.

  “Sit down,” the dean told him.

  “Unlock the door,” Maddox said.

  The dean only smiled more charmingly. “You must trust me.”

  “I don’t.”

  “That shows an unwillingness to cooperate.”

  Maddox said nothing.

  “Do you want to go to prison?”

  Maddox still did not speak.

  “Very well,” the dean said. “The session is over. You will have to take the consequences.” He took the key out of his pocket and held it out to Maddox.

  The rail-thin teenager reached for the key.

  The dean grabbed his wrist with thick powerful fingers. He yanked Maddox near.

  Once more, Maddox’s mind went into hyperdrive. It seemed to him as if the dean slowed down. He could sense things, and he realized the dean had bad intentions.

  With deliberate speed and power, Maddox rammed his knee against the dean’s crotch.

  The brawny man released his wrist. The dean staggered backward, crashing against his desk. He still gripped the key somehow. Maddox went to him and reached for the key. The dean swept out a leg, catching Maddox by surprise. It knocked the teenager onto the carpet.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” the dean said in an ugly voice. Although still crouching in pain, the dean stood. He shoved the key into a pocket and came at Maddox.

  The next few minutes were horrible. The huge brawny man tried to grapple him. Maddox knew it was only a matter of time before the dean caught him. Despite his greater speed and phenomenal strength for his age and size, Maddox knew he would lose a wrestling contest to the dean.

  Thus, Maddox fell back onto something he’d learned. The dean lunged at him, and with the palm of his right hand, Maddox struck a perfect blow to the nose. The blow sent a jar of pain up Maddox’s right arm. It broke the dean’s nose and broke off a piece of bone. The bone launched like an arrow into the dean’s brain, killing the man on the spot.

  He flopped to the carpet, dead.

  Maddox panted. He was dumbfounded that the hit had worked so well. Kicking the door, the teenager gained his freedom from the awful office. He felt soiled because of the encounter, and killing a human—

  Maddox threw up in the hall, trembling worse than he ever had. He heard voices. Maybe it was his hypersensitivity. Something about the voices seemed…different.

  Maddox slunk to a different room, opening the door and closing it so only a crack showed.

  He spied two tall men who moved with silky grace. They seemed different, their eyes focused in a way he couldn’t understand. Back then, he hadn’t known. Seen from the vantage of time, those were two New Men agents, spies, on Earth.

  Even as a youth, Maddox had known he could not defeat those two. Maddox let them pass before silently shutting the door. He went to a window, opened it and ran away.

  The investigation into the dean’s death, the accusations—if a Star Watch officer hadn’t taken over, it’s possible Maddox would have gone to prison. He didn’t know at the time, but the Iron Lady had sent the officer. That officer —who later became Major Stokes—had found out enough about the dean. Someone had compromised the man, someone who wanted Maddox.

  That had exonerated the young Maddox. What’s more, Star Watch had moved him out of the Boy’s Home and into a pre-Space Academy school.

  Deep in Sind II, Maddox came abruptly to his senses. He stood in a new chamber. This one did not hum, although it glowed. There were banks of panels and computers all around him.

  Maddox looked around. Ludendorff panted to his left. Meta wept to his right, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The captain went to her—

  “No,” Ludendorff hissed. “She must come out of it on her own. If you wake her now, it could cause psychological harm.”

  Maddox thought about that. Maybe the professor knew what he was talking about. So, he waited.

  Suddenly, the left wall began to rise…

  -60-

  Maddox drew his long-barreled gun.

  As the wall continued to rise, an irresistible force wrenched the gun out of Maddox’s grasp. At the same time, the monofilament knife pulled mightily against the captain’s hip.

  The gun flew up to slam against the ceiling, magnetized to it.

  A moment later, the force subsided against the knife. At the same time, the far wall lifted as high as it could go. It revealed a larger chamber several times bigger than the one before it.

  On the farthest wall of the new chamber was a vast map of the world and orbital space. It showed Starship Victory and various Patrol probes. On a different map to the left upper side was Star Cruiser Argo approaching the planet. In the lower left corner were five accelerating Juggernauts doing the same thing.

  The larger room appeared to be empty except for a dark dome on a pedestal. The metallic pedestal was taller than a man and several times squatter.

  “I suspect this is the planet’s war room,” Ludendorff said.

  The dark dome flickered. Then swirling colored lights appeared inside it, making the dome brighter.

  “I have analyzed your speech patterns,” the dome said, or the speaker-unit attacked to the dome. The voice sounded robotic, similar to Galyan but even more computerized. “War-room is far too aggressive of a connotation. This is the planet’s central defense node, and I am the coordinating unit.”

  “You are definitely not a Builder,” Ludendorff said.

  “That is an easily achieved logic-based statement,” the dome said.

  “Yet you have refrained from agreeing with me,” the professor said. “Is there a reason for that?”

  “Working…” the dome said. “You are not authorized to question me. I am of the opinion that you are not authorized to be in this part of the Planetary Defense Net.”

  “Nonsense,” Ludendorff said. “I am a Builder observer-agent. If you scan me, I’m sure you’ll find that my credentials are in order.”

  “Working,” the dome said.

  A light snapped on above the professor. A ray beamed down from it, enswathing Ludendorff. The process took seconds until the beam quit.

  “You have valid credentials,” the dome said. “Can the same be said for the other two?”

  “They are my aides,” Ludendorff said.

  “What Builder do you represent?”

  “That is classified information. I do not believe you are authorized to hear it.”

  The colored lights in the dome flickered faster than before. “What is your purpose for invading the Defense Net?”

  “Invade gives the wrong connotation,” Ludendorff said. “But I will overlook that for now. To be precise, there have been a few anomalies, more than a few, here. I am a Class Nine Troubleshooter, sent to determine the cause of these anomalies.”

  “I will have to query you concerning your blunt statement. Please give me a specific anomaly.”

  “The toxins in the atmosphere, the ones that caused the Vendel mutations,” Ludendorff said.

  “That was an error. I am still in the process of an internal investigation concerning it.”

  “Do you mean you are running a diagnostic test?”

  “Error,” the dome said. “There was a catastrophic error. The Rull vessels launched spray drones. They released the toxins. It was an error. They had received verification. They should not have received verification. I initiated a Cl
ass One defense response.”

  “You fired planetary beams at them?”

  “I destroyed four Juggernauts and severely damaged two more.”

  “Why didn’t you destroy the damaged vessels?”

  “Error,” the dome said. “That is also part of the internal investigation. There was an—error. I detect an error.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Meta whispered.

  “Why does one of your humans query you?” the dome asked. “That is an error. Are you the source of my errors?”

  Ludendorff made a bland gesture. “By no means. Do you recall that I told you these are my aides?”

  “Affirmative,” the dome said.

  “One of their tasks is to make informed queries. I now officially ask: what is wrong with you?”

  “I do not detect any self-errors.”

  “That is a prime error,” Ludendorff said. “Certainly, there is something terribly wrong. Your planetary charges—the Vendel population—has degraded considerably. Most of them live like animals. The rest hide underground in a semi-barbaric state with a superstitious-religious form of government. That leads to stagnation.”

  “I do not accept your slurs.”

  Ludendorff glanced at Maddox before walking around the dome and pedestal. The professor had his hands clasped behind his back as if he stood in his lecture hall.

  “The time for recriminations is over,” the professor said. “It is time to fix the problem. Are you agreeable?”

  “I am in prime condition. I am not responsible for the state of the aboriginals. They are self-governing and self-responsible. Take your analysis to them and correct their animalistic and semi-barbaric state.”

  Ludendorff seemed outwardly calm. Maddox wasn’t so sure, though. The professor’s fingers kept twitching behind his back. The Methuselah Man made several more circuits around the pedestal. What was he thinking?

  “Do you detect the star cruiser and the five approaching Juggernauts?” Ludendorff asked suddenly.

  “I detect the Rull war-vessels. I am unfamiliar with star cruisers.”

  “Yet, there is only one other vessel approaching Sind.”

  “That is true. But there is an alien vessel in orbit around Sind. This could be the star cruiser of which you speak.”