The Lost Destroyer (Lost Starship Series Book 3)

by Vaughn Heppner

  In a second, Maddox heard new breathing. “Meta,” he said.

  “M-Maddox?” she asked. “How did you get here? What happened to Kane? Where is he?”

  Maddox grinned until Oran Rva drew a knife and came at him. That shouldn’t have been possible. How had the New Man short-circuited Ludendorff’s web-field?

  “Shoot him,” Maddox said.

  Keith raised a blaster and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Maddox dropped the flat device, drew his own blaster and tried to fire. Absolutely nothing happened.

  Oran Rva chuckled as he said, “I’m impressed, hybrid. You’ve done much better than I would have believed. You are a testament to our breeding program.”

  “Fan out,” Maddox said. “We’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

  “Meta,” Oran Rva said, “to me.”

  She didn’t move.

  The New Man glanced at her. “Did you hear my command?”

  Meta said nothing.

  The New Man turned faster than Maddox would have believed possible. Oran Rva’s knife sank through Meta’s armored vacc-suit into her belly. She moaned painfully. With his other hand, Oran Rva shoved her.

  Meta stumbled backward, striking a crystal spire and sinking onto the spongy floor.

  Oran Rva faced Maddox, with Meta’s blood dripping from his blade.

  Maddox wanted to howl with rage, lower his head and charge the fiend from the Throne World. An icy part of him told the captain he would certainly lose if he did that. That was exactly what Oran Rva wanted him to do. He’d never faced a deadlier opponent.

  Feeling surreal, Maddox took a viper stick stance. This was awkward in a vacc-suit. Instead of a whippy instrument, he gripped a slarn knife, a length of deadly tri-steel.

  “That was a mistake,” Maddox said, his voice hyper-calm.

  “Does the pup seek to instruct the wolf?” Oran Rva sneered. “That is poor form, hybrid. I am your better.”

  “Which is why you’re trying to eliminate us one by one, right?” Maddox said.

  “Why yes, because that is the best tactic.”

  Maddox’s eyes narrowed, as did his focus. “I will kill you, Oran Rva.”

  “Boasts, Captain?”

  “A statement of my intent, rather,” Maddox said.

  Out of the corner of his visor, the captain saw Keith. The ace gripped the sergeant’s trench knife with its tungsten knuckles over the vacc-gloves. The pilot stepped hesitantly like someone afraid of knives.

  Where was Riker? The sergeant wouldn’t stay out of this. Was Meta alive or bleeding to death?

  No. I must remove her from my thoughts.

  Maddox refused to dwell on the doomsday machine either. This was the moment of supreme concentration. This would be the duel of his life.

  Maddox narrowed his focus onto Oran Rva and the New Man’s blade. It was shorter than the slarn knife. Why had the blaster failed to fire? Why hadn’t the flat device worked for long in this room? There had to be some sort of dampener field in place.

  The captain felt it then. The greater Gs. He swished his knife-arm back and forth. There was resistance in the air, and he moved too sluggishly.

  “I beat you in the Tannish System,” Maddox said, hoping to goad Oran Rva into making a mistake.

  “All is forgiven, hybrid,” the New Man said. “You see, it showed me a greater path. I am taking control of the only war machine that matters now. I am about to become king.”

  Maddox emptied himself of emotion, of extraneous thoughts. In the viper stick stance, he began to approach the other. He concentrated on the tip of his knife. The goal of these next few minutes would be to bury it in his opponent’s heart. First, he must test the other. He must gauge the reflexes and cunning.

  Oran Rva closed in a similar manner, with the shorter knife thrust low and outward.

  Maddox noted the lean features. They were like his, more so than anyone else he’d seen to date. He caught the golden hue of the skin, the intense eyes blacker than sin. He wondered for a second if Oran Rva could have been his father.

  “You desire to ask me questions,” the New Man said. “But I say to you: surrender or die, hybrid.”

  “You will allow me to surrender?” Maddox asked.

  “Put the knife on the deck and—”

  “No!” Keith shouted. The ace launched himself at the New Man, moving in slow motion. Keith held the trench knife before him like a shield.

  Maddox had hoped to lull Oran Rva. Instead, the captain had demoralized one of his own men into attacking prematurely.

  To save Keith, the captain began his attack approach while maintaining the viper stick stance.

  Oran Rva spun, moving at Keith and then leaning, thrusting with his long reach. The ace stopped short and slashed down, no doubt attempting to block the enemy knife. Stopping short did more than the blocking move to help save Keith’s life. Oran Rva’s knife-tip touched the armored vacc-suit instead of sinking into it.

  Maddox strove to reach Oran Rva in time. The New Man stepped toward Keith. The ace already twisted away, diving for the floor. The tactic led Maddox to believe that Keith hadn’t been blindly charging the enemy, but pretending to be a fool.

  Oran Rva came up out of his knife-fighting stance, standing tall. He made a short run at Keith and lashed out with his foot. The boot connected with Keith’s chest. That would have cracked some ribs. The kick propelled the fallen pilot several meters. Worse, Keith went limp, groaning through Maddox’s headphones.

  Maddox lunged. Oran Rva spun around impossibly fast in this alien environment. The New Man’s blade clinked against the captain’s, blocking the thrust.

  Maddox tried a quick, slashing cut. The New Man blocked that, too. In five seconds, the captain practiced another three attacks. Each time, Oran Rva produced a spark and a notch in the blades as the knives clashed against each other.

  Finally, the captain retreated. He saw the gleam in Oran Rva’s dark eyes. A triumphant, cool smile appeared on the New Man’s face.

  “I am much better than you are, Captain.”

  “Why didn’t you kill me then?” Maddox taunted.

  “You figure it out.”

  No. Maddox wasn’t going to fall for that gambit. He would not try to overthink this. Knife dueling against a superior opponent was a time for reflexes and swift ploys. To that end, the captain controlled his breathing, watching for an opening. He refused to dwell on the very real possibility that Oran Rva was going to murder the lot of them and take control of the doomsday machine.

  A feeling of futility swept through Maddox. Whom was he fooling? The New Man’s strength and speed—the captain shook his head. He could win this. He just had to figure out how.

  “Your woman is dying,” Oran Rva said. “I crushed your friend’s chest. Your last companion is a coward, hiding. I suspect he is bewildered.”

  “Fine,” Maddox said. “That just leaves you and me. It will make my victory sweeter by winning it alone.”

  “Yes,” Oran Rva said. “We are all alone. The weaklings bleat to each other, seeking comfort in this cold universe. We of the Throne World realize that each man is an island unto himself. We strive against each other, seeking honor. I am the dominant here. You are the inferior. Goodbye, Captain Maddox, I thank you for this brief moment of sport.”

  The New Man advanced.

  Maddox retreated.

  Oran Rva chuckled. “Do you think I do not know your tactic? But go ahead, proceed with it.”

  Maddox did just that, concentrating on trying to get ready for the right moment to attack.

  Suddenly, Oran Rva surprised him. The New Man straightened once more and dashed for a spire. A second later, Riker tried to run away from behind that spire. The enemy strained to reach the sergeant.

  Maddox shouted, and he, too, ran, but after the New Man. He knew what Riker had been going to do. Why was he so slow?

  Oran Rva closed the distance. At the last moment, Riker stopped and turned, hurling the leng
th of his broken bionic forearm and hand at the New Man, the one Riker had been carrying. The tall man reached out, catching the forearm by the hand. He swung the bionic piece at Riker.

  After hurling his forearm, the sergeant had used his left hand to draw a knife, a short one. As he did, Riker looked up. Oran Rva swung the forearm like a sap, hitting the sergeant’s stomach.

  Maddox heard the oomph. Riker doubled over the forearm. In his other hand, Oran Rva raised his blade.

  “Here, Dominant!” Kane roared.

  The Rouen Colony man sprinted around another spire. The blocky man now wore regular clothes and an emergency rebreather and goggles. Where was Kane’s armored vacc-suit? The man’s hands and feet were stark red.

  It took Maddox a moment to comprehend what he saw. Had Kane wriggled out of his vacc-suit? Yes. That had to be it. How else had the man escaped the restraints, which had been over the suit? It would appear Kane had used an emergency rebreather, letting his skin resist the alien atmosphere inside the ship.

  In those brief seconds of thought, several things occurred at once. Oran Rva pivoted and lowered himself into a knife-fighting stance. That allowed Riker to roll out of the way. Then, Kane was airborne, with his fingers hooked like claws.

  Oran Rva stabbed upward, the knife sinking into Kane’s chest. Instead of roaring with pain, Kane crashed against the New Man, his weight bearing the golden-skinned man onto the deck.

  “Strike, Maddox, while I hold him,” Kane roared.

  Incredibly, Kane clutched onto Oran Rva’s knife-arm, keeping the blade buried in his body. The New Man struggled to withdraw the blade. He was doing so centimeter by centimeter.

  The New Man let go of the knife-handle, beginning to turn on the floor.

  Maddox laid a palm on Oran Rva’s helmet. Then, the captain stabbed the slarn knife into the New Man’s throat. The blade sank, with the tip pushing into the spongy deck. Maddox twisted the knife. Their eyes met then. Oran Rva’s became wide and staring, shocked with agony.

  “I killed you,” Kane rumbled. “I killed you because you hurt the one I loved. No one hurts me because I am ice.”

  Maddox removed the blade, staring at the bright blood along the length.

  Oran Rva began to thrash, gurgling in the captain’s headphones.

  “Kane,” Maddox said. “You can let go. I’ll look at your wound.”

  The big man moved his head, staring up at Maddox through the goggles as he kept hold of Oran Rva’s knife-hand. “I’m dead, Earthman. Save Meta. She’s why I did this. Save her, Captain. Tell her…”

  Maddox stared at the big man. What was Kane trying to say?

  The Rouen Colony man’s skin paled. His reddened eyes became haunted and frightened. “Tell her I loved her. You’ll do that…won’t you?”

  Shock numbed the captain’s lips. What was this? Kane loved Meta. Anger boiled in Maddox’s heart. Yet, the big man had just acted heroically, saving their lives with his selflessness. It had come from love.

  Kane kept staring at him, waiting.

  The words seemed to force themselves out of Maddox’s mouth. “I’ll tell her,” he said.

  Relief flooded over Kane. Then a sad smile spread across his features. “That was the secret to breaking the conditioning. I did it because of love. I loved her, but I learned that too late. Don’t…don’t be the same kind of fool, Maddox.”

  The captain opened his mouth to speak. He wasn’t sure what he would have said. He didn’t have the chance to tell Kane anything more. The enemy agent of the New Men closed his eyes for the last time.

  At that point, the hyper-focus left Maddox. The world seemed to expand. The room was shaking, with riotous colors swirling along the sides of the center cube. One of the machine cables—the thing on top of the cube—whipped out and began to thrash. Blue smoke began to trickle from the main housing of the octagonal-shaped Builder device.

  -46-

  With his fists clenched, Maddox knelt over Meta. A resilient, plastic-type substance had already auto-sealed the cut in her vacc-suit. He wished the same had happened for the wound in her stomach.

  Through her visor, Meta’s eyelids fluttered.

  She’s still alive. “Can you hear me?” Maddox asked.

  Her features were drawn and much too white. Lines pulled at her mouth. “Maddox,” she whispered.

  “Oran Rva is dead. So is Kane. This place—”

  Meta feebly raised an arm and latched onto a vacc-suit sleeve. Weakly, she pressed her fingers against the armored fabric.

  “Are you trying to tell me something?” Maddox asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Listen.”

  “We don’t have much time.” Not that Maddox had any idea what he should do next.

  “Bring me…the translator,” Meta whispered.

  Maddox looked around. Yes. They must have had a device to speak with the Builder thing controlling the planet-killer. Getting up, Maddox retrieved a box. It was near the center cube. Oran Rva might have set it there.

  “That’s it,” Meta whispered. In a few words, she told Maddox what the New Man had done with the box, the translator.

  Noticing the looping cord, Maddox slung it over his neck. Another cord dangled from the box that would fit in a comm-slot on his helmet. Maddox plugged it in.

  He heard the translator’s words: “I am losing coherence. The virus—”

  “Hello,” Maddox said, looking up at the silvery, octopus-shaped machine on the cube.

  “You must listen to reason,” the octopus thing told him.

  “I will,” Maddox said.

  “You will?” it asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did you insert the Swarm virus into me?”

  “That doesn’t matter now,” Maddox said. “Tell me the problem.”

  “I will be succinct. I am losing control of the machine. The old intellect is taking over. It has lain dormant longer than I can understand. Soon—”

  “Never mind about that,” Maddox said. “How do we stop the doomsday machine?”

  “Reference your meaning of doomsday machine.”

  “This machine, this ship,” Maddox said.

  “I perceive your meaning. There is no solution. No warships in this sector of the galaxy can harm the machine.”

  “Do you sense the warships outside?” Maddox asked.

  “Yes. They are engaging in a futile attack run. The machine will soon destroy the bulk of them and render the rest harmless.”

  “Transfer somewhere else then,” Maddox said.

  “How does that change the final outcome of the situation? The scourge will have awakened. It will return here. Then—”

  “I have the answer,” Maddox said, seeing it in a flash. “But it will mean sacrificing your life.”

  “I am not wedded to existence like a biological life form. I exist to serve my programming. If I cannot control the machine, I must render it harmless. But I have less than three tarns to achieve anything. Then, my control will forever disappear, and it will be in control.”

  “How long does it take you to transfer?”

  “Two tarns,” it said.

  “Do you see the local star nearby?” Maddox asked.

  “Of course,” it said.

  “You must transfer the machine into the center of the star.”

  It took three long seconds. Then the thing said, “That is a brilliant solution. Do you wish to eject before I begin?”

  “Can we?” Maddox asked. He hadn’t expected to survive this.

  “If you can reach an exit in a tarn’s time,” the thing said.

  “Are there any escape pods?” Maddox asked.

  “The concept is alien to the machine, as it never envisioned defeat or destruction. Go—”

  “Give me the nearest exist.”

  “I will not, as that will be too far. I can give you the location of a hull breach. The local life forms of this star broke through with an antimatter device. If you can reach there in time—”
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  “Tell me the route to the nearest breach,” Maddox said.

  “Can you commit it to memory?”

  “Yes.”

  The Builder creation began to explain the torturous route to Maddox.

  “That’s not going to work,” Maddox said. “We won’t reach the hull opening in time.”

  “I suggest you begin praying to the Deity then and making your peace with Him.”

  “Question,” Maddox said. “Can you switch the gravity settings in the corridors?”

  “Of course,’ the Builder thing said.

  “Make everything weightless.”

  “Would that help you escape?”

  “Yes,” Maddox said.

  The Builder thing paused before saying, “There. It is finished. Now, you must stop communicating with me. I will need to use my last moments to concentrate on control and transfer.”

  Maddox stopped talking to the Builder computer. He tore off the translator’s loop and plugin, and realized he was weightless. “Listen to me,” he radioed the others. “This is what we’re going to do…”

  ***

  Maddox gripped Meta’s belt with one hand and propelled them down the corridors with his legs, using his free hand to guide them. She was groggy, going in and out of consciousness.

  Despite the broken ribs, Keith practiced zero-G maneuvering like a monkey. The ace shot ahead of them. Riker did his best to keep up.

  So far, they hadn’t run into any more bio-robots.

  “Even if we get outside,” Rider said, “won’t we get sucked into the transfer node?”

  “You ask the cheeriest questions,” Maddox said. “I have no idea. First, we have to get out of the doomsday machine. Then, we can listen to you croak despair.”

  One thing helped Maddox remember the route. The feeling of evil had departed. Was that due to the Builder octopus?

  As the captain gained speed, negotiating the intersections with cool concentration, he thought about the ancient machine. Who had built it? Did it even belong to this galaxy? Clearly, it destroyed planets. Why, though? What had been the reasoning behind the decision to make something like that?