The Lost Destroyer (Lost Starship Series Book 3)

by Vaughn Heppner

The holoimage appeared. “Yes, Captain. I hear you quite well. Thank you for asking.”

  “Can you tell me what computer systems—what ship systems—the professor worked on while you were turned off?”

  “I can,” Galyan said.

  “First,” Maddox asked, “did the professor keep certain ship systems shut off even after he rebooted you?”

  “What are you getting at?” Dana asked.

  Maddox motioned for her to remain silent. “Did the professor keep—?”

  “I heard you the first time,” Galyan said. “I’ve been checking just now—why yes, Ludendorff most certainly did keep certain ship systems cold. Isn’t that odd I haven’t noticed it until this moment?”

  “It is odd,” Maddox agreed, the excitement building in him.

  “This is intriguing,” Galyan said. “I wonder why I haven’t acknowledged the situation before this moment.”

  Maddox glanced at Dana. She looked worried. “We have a decision to make,” he told her.

  “The professor may have left these systems offline for a sound and solid reason,” Dana said.

  “I realize that,” Maddox said. “That’s why we’re going to have to sit down with the others and decide what to do next. I think we’ve come to a crisis point.”

  -22-

  Kane wore a large and extra-bulky pressurized suit as he waddled the last few meters to an air-cycler.

  He was about to leave Cestus Hauler EV-3498-Z109, which was now in Low Earth Orbit. Earth security had become extraordinarily tight since he’d left months ago with Meta in his company. Even so, the hauler had already passed every safety inspection.

  As Kane neared the cycler’s entrance, a premonition stirred in his subconscious. He halted and shuffled around. With exaggerated care, he looked where he’d just been. The short corridor led to a closed hatch.

  Why did it feel as if the hatch had been open?

  He’d walked many kilometers already from his secret module. During that time, he hadn’t seen or heard anyone. Nor had he felt surveillance equipment watching him.

  Someone is watching me now, though. I can feel it.

  The intensity of the scrutiny made his nape hairs lift. He trusted his feelings in these situations. Clearly, someone aboard the hauler knew of his presence. Would he or she be watching him this last hour?

  That struck Kane as doubtful. The hauler crews had never interfered with him before. The secret agent embedded within the crew was always highly-trained and motivated. Who would watch him then that would cause his senses to flare like this? Could Star Watch Intelligence have him in sight? Were they about to let him run loose on Earth in order to follow him to his target?

  Slowly, Kane shook his head inside the helmet. He didn’t believe that for a moment. Star Watch personnel would grab him now if they could, not let him escape onto Earth.

  Kane had always considered himself the best at what he did. He was stronger and smarter than his opponents. This time, he came as a commando with a single mission. The enabler was tucked away in his pressurized suit.

  As he stood in the chamber, he bent his considerable intellect to the problem of feeling watched. The conclusion seemed obvious.

  I’m missing something or forgetting a critical piece of information. What can I have forgotten?

  Kane opened his mouth. In that moment, his memories stirred. Something on the scout had been abnormal. He had sensed it during much of the journey. It had plagued his dreams.

  Did the dominants modify my mind for the mission?

  Kane had long suspected them of that, but had never found the evidence to substantiate the idea. Would he find such evidence if they’d modified his brain?

  What have I missed? I must reason this out.

  Kane carefully retraced his days aboard the scout but he did not recall the ghostly hatch. Thus, after a few more minutes of looking around, he faced the air-cycler once more.

  The intense feeling of scrutiny refused to leave him, though. He would have to endure it for now. Maybe the years of spy work were finally getting to him. He’d heard that the pressure of living in the cold for too long had devoured many agents’ nerve.

  My nerves are like ice, though. Succumbing to mental pressure can’t be the reason for these odd sensations.

  The idea that the pressure of his work was getting to him troubled Kane nonetheless. He hated the thought of being so weak. How could he win high rank if his nerve failed him?

  With a feeling of foreboding, Kane entered the air-cycler and told himself to concentrate on the mission at hand. Few people could do what he was about to attempt.

  A sub-aqua entry was one of the most dangerous ways to insert onto a planet. To calm himself, Kane practiced controlled breathing. Then, he closed his eyes and hardened his resolve. When he opened his eyes, a green light appeared on a panel.

  “It’s time,” he rumbled.

  Kane pressed a control. The entire chamber rotated as air hissed away. Finally, another light winked on, and the hatch before him lifted. He stared into space. In three slow steps, he reached the hauler’s outer hull.

  “It’s beautiful,” Kane whispered, the words reverberating gently in his helmet.

  With heavy cloud cover of the whitest color, the Earth spread out before him. It was gorgeous.

  Here in Low Earth Orbit, hundreds, possibly thousands, of spaceships, haulers, shuttles and satellites filled Earth’s security sensor stations with moving blips. Kane couldn’t see any of those vessels now. Each ship and satellite was impossibly small compared to the planet.

  To his left, Kane saw a small dark object. For all he knew, it could be a SW battleship or cruiser.

  Enough sightseeing, it’s time to go to work.

  As big cargo shuttles launched from the various bays in Cestus Hauler EV-3498-Z109, Kane switched on his magnetized boots. He walked along the outer hull, a flea following seemingly innocuous symbols painted on the metal.

  Soon, Kane stood before a secret hatch. He pressed his gloved hand into the correct depression. The hatch opened, revealing a thruster-harness with hydrogen tanks and nozzles.

  Kane pulled the frame and tanks out of the compartment. In four minutes of concentrated work, he buckled himself into the harness. Testing the control throttle caused him to grunt with appreciation.

  Kane bent his knees, demagnetized his boots and jumped. Slowly, he, the harness and hydrogen tanks floated away from the hull. After gaining one hundred meters of separation, he squeezed the throttle. As nearly invisible hydrogen spray pushed him, Kane left the giant hauler with growing velocity. One time only, Kane craned his head to look back. The hauler was massive. Behind it on either side shined a thousand stars, the depths of space. Once more, he’d made the journey through the interstellar void.

  Kane faced forward again, settling himself for the next leg of the journey. He propelled himself lower into orbital space. He moved incredibly slowly compared to the space vehicles and satellites around him. Doing it this way also made him less than a blip on any security sensor.

  Kane laughed. Traveling toward the planet felt glorious. This was exciting, a reason for being. Then, a beep inside his helmet warned him it was time.

  Kane worked briskly and efficiently, unhooking himself from the thruster-harness. Once finished, he pressed his teeth together and tightened his muscles. Then, he flipped a switch. Two seconds later, he catapulted out of the harness.

  For a time, Kane drifted. He watched the instrument panel superimposed on his inner visor. The tug of gravity had taken hold. It pulled him down.

  Kane waited, waited—patience was one of the greatest virtues in his line of work—and then it happened. He began to truly fall. In the stratosphere, the process increased to terminal velocity. He plunged down toward the surface like a meteor.

  This was the dangerous time. He began to spin. A sound alerted him that he spun at too many Gs. He would black out soon. With a yank, he deployed a drogue stabilization chute. The change slammed against him.
He lost his breath and deployed a second chute. Finally, the spinning lessened and then stopped altogether.

  I’m going to make it.

  As Kane reached lower atmospheric levels, entering nighttime over the Mediterranean Sea, he deployed more chutes. They were big billowing things, slowing his descent to a manageable speed.

  Finally, Kane raced down toward the visible sea feet-first. At two hundred meters, he cut the chutes and plunged, hitting the water hard. He went down, down, down into the darkness. This was the sub-aqua entry.

  Finally, he stopped.

  Kane pressed a tab and ripped away the pressurized suit. Underneath, he wore a wetsuit with a rebreather. He had a small mobile unit, unhooking it from his back. Soon, he gripped the butterfly controls with his gloved fingers.

  For a half minute, Kane rested in the depths, letting himself relax. He had made the space drop. Now, how close was he to the next step?

  Using his chin to tap an interior helmet control, Kane discovered that the target was three kilometers away. That was fantastic. He engaged the mobile unit. It propelled him underwater. Finally, fifty minutes after entering the Mediterranean Sea, Kane spied the underwater chamber.

  It was made of composite materials, impervious to radar or other sensors. Still, Star Watch might have discovered it.

  Soon, Kane clicked on a helmet light, illuminating a pad on the hull of the underwater chamber. He tapped the needed sequence. An air-cycler opened for him. He swam within, shut the hatch and waited as his heart rate accelerated. Would enemy Intelligence agents be waiting for him?

  As the water drained away past his legs within the cycler, Kane drew a gun. It would be better to die fighting than being captured. Finally, the interior hatch opened to a lit and empty room.

  Kane heaved an explosive sigh. The enemy hadn’t discovered the underwater safe house. This was excellent news.

  Kane staggered into the chamber, taking off his helmet. For a moment, he recalled the feeling of being watched aboard the space hauler. He shrugged. It didn’t matter now. Whatever he had felt up there had absolutely no bearing on him down here below the waves. He was truly on his own again.

  A low and satisfied chuckle escaped his throat. It was time to plan the next move. Now that he was down, Kane knew exactly what to do. The next phase would run even more smoothly than the first. Of that, he had no doubts.

  -23-

  Starship Victory raced for Earth as the crew met in the conference chamber. The sergeant had put Villars back into stasis. Galyan stood watch on the bridge, having agreed to shut off the monitoring system in the conference room for the duration of the meeting.

  Maddox sat at the head of the table. He eyed the others before clearing his throat. “If the professor was right about the doomsday machine, the clock could be ticking to zero faster than we think.”

  “Is there any reason to doubt Ludendorff?” Valerie asked. “You saw the recording of what the machine did in the New Arabia System.”

  “I think there is reason to doubt,” Maddox said. “For one thing, we haven’t found the long-distance communicator. Without the device, how could Ludendorff have shown me anything other than a holo-mockup?”

  “We should wake him up and ask,” Dana said. “That seems like the simplest solution.”

  Maddox gave the doctor a wintery grin. “Ludendorff is the trickiest individual I’ve ever met. Remember, he’s fooled the New Men before. In fact, he remained hidden from them while they were in orbit at Wolf Prime. He’s repeatedly tricked us. I think waking Ludendorff would be the most dangerous solution.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Dana said. “We would put him in restraints.”

  “And if he’s installed another hidden device in Galyan?” Maddox asked.

  “Ludendorff is one man,” Dana said. “I agree he’s very clever—”

  “More than just clever,” Maddox said, interrupting her. “For one thing, he’s a Methuselah Man with an intense curiosity quotient. He doesn’t seem to be set in his ways like the others of his kind. That’s another thing. His team members have all taken the longevity treatments. They’re each dangerous in their own right. Consider, too, that Ludendorff broke Per Lomax from the brig and convinced the New Man to use the jumpfighter to race to the planet-killer. What did he tell Per Lomax that the other found so convincing? It’s obvious the professor hasn’t told us everything. His reasons for keeping quiet won’t have changed with a few days in stasis.”

  Dana leaned forward, putting her hands on the table. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about him, Captain. Why did you call the meeting then? Are we simply rubberstamping your choice?”

  “He’s the captain, as you just pointed out,” Riker said gruffly. “He doesn’t need a rubberstamp. He can simply give us an order.”

  “I’m well aware of the captain’s authority,” Dana told the sergeant. “I’d like to know why he’s bothered with the charade of a meeting.”

  “Fair enough,” Maddox said. “You’re right that I’m in no doubt about what to do with Ludendorff. I don’t understand him or his motivation. I respect his deadliness and have no illusions about besting him a second time.”

  “You didn’t best him the first time,” Meta said. “You got lucky. We all did because he went crazy at the Builder base. The drones beat him, not you or us.”

  “True enough,” Maddox said. “We were Ludendorff’s prisoners until he decided to set us free. My point is that I’m not giving him another chance to do that again.”

  “What if the professor is the only chance Earth has of surviving the doomsday machine?” Dana asked.

  Maddox nodded. “Now we come to the crux of the matter and the reason for the meeting. If Ludendorff was right about the planet-killer—”

  “Just a minute,” Dana said, interrupting the captain. “Before we proceed, I want to know if you think he lied about the doomsday machine or not.”

  Maddox eyed the doctor. “I believe him.”

  “Why?” Dana asked.

  “Because he fixed the disrupter cannon and helped us defeat the New Men’s invasion armada in the Tannish System.”

  “Then keep trusting him,” Dana said.

  “I will run my ship,” Maddox said. “I will not willingly hand it over to anyone else, including Ludendorff.”

  “You’ll keep to that even if your stubbornness means the death of Earth?” asked Dana.

  “Is Ludendorff our only hope?” Maddox countered.

  “Who knows more about the Builders than him?” Dana asked. “Which means, who knows more about the planet-killer? Yes, I think the professor is our only hope.”

  “What are you driving at, sir?” Valerie asked the captain.

  Maddox studied the others. It was time to broach the topic. “I believe Galyan could be a different avenue to victory. I’ve just learned that the professor kept part of the AI’s computer systems disengaged. Maybe it’s time for us to reactivate those systems. Maybe it’s time for us to see what else needs fixing aboard the starship.”

  Dana began fidgeting as the captain spoke. Now she blurted, “That seems like a remarkably stupid idea. Firstly, before Ludendorff shut down those systems, we were the AI’s prisoners. Or have you forgotten that?”

  Maddox said nothing.

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Valerie told the doctor.

  “Thank you,” Dana said. She regarded the captain. “Turning those systems back on could reverse all the good the professor did. Secondly, I have a lot of history with Galyan before the AI became nice. Remember, I ran the team that studied the starship in the Oort cloud. Ludendorff knew far better than I or anyone else did how to fix the AI. We’re too ignorant to make a wise decision in this area. The last thing we want is for Galyan to become our enemy again.”

  “Why do you think the AI would do that?” Meta asked the doctor.

  “Due to the sheer fact that Ludendorff kept those systems turned off, and Galyan has been cooperative since,” Dana said.


  There was a moment of silence in the chamber as the thought sank in.

  Riker glanced at Maddox before asking the doctor, “Here’s something I’d like to know. Did Ludendorff have a good reason for making us prisoners aboard our own ship? Did the professor have a good reason for letting a sadist loose against Meta?”

  Dana glanced at Meta, as she said, “No. That was wrong.”

  Meta folded her hands on the table, looking troubled.

  “Then why can’t the professor be wrong about Galyan’s systems, the ones he kept off?” Riker asked.

  “Is that a serious question?” Dana asked the sergeant. “Am I the only one who sees the obvious connection? I just explained it, but I’ll try again. Maybe the AI will become monstrously intelligent with the reengagement of the systems. Maybe it will make the computer hostile like before. The point is that we’re taking a huge risk putting the systems back online. Galyan’s previous behavior proves me right. And I’ve already said that Ludendorff knows more about Adok technology than anyone else does.”

  “Ludendorff is smart,” Riker said. “We know that. But the professor’s previous behavior proves the captain is right about distrusting the man.”

  “As to that,” Dana said, “I’d rather trust a human than a deified Adok AI.”

  Another moment of silence ensued until Maddox cleared his throat. The others gave him their attention.

  “Either course strikes me as dangerous,” the captain said. “Ludendorff might have had solid reasons for disengaging the selected computer systems. We’d have to know more about the professor to be certain, though.”

  “No, no,” Dana said. “It’s obvious. Before we fixed the computer, Galyan was hostile.”

  “Due to a Swarm virus,” Maddox said.

  “That’s an assumption.”

  “It’s hardly that,” Maddox said. “Both you and the professor agreed the virus existed and had warped the AI.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “That would indicate the professor kept the other computer systems offline for a different reason than the one you’re postulating,” Maddox said.