The Lost Intelligence (Lost Starship Series Book 12)

by Vaughn Heppner

  Woodenly, Fletcher nodded.

  “You must speak to Captain Maddox and personally give him his new orders. He must leave at once and remain in the Erill System until you call him back with the Long-Range Builder comm device.”

  “There are some who will think that’s a bad idea,” Fletcher intoned. “They’ll think Maddox should remain here, in the center of things.”

  “You are the Lord High Admiral. You make the decisions, not them.”

  If it was possible, Fletcher straightened even more in pride and dignity.

  “Don’t let anyone sidetrack you, sir. Maddox is a hero. This is a hero’s task. He will understand. And if Maddox doesn’t, and dies out there, possibly in a gruesome manner, then he wasn’t the man we thought he was. If that happens, he won’t be able to nose around where he shouldn’t, and we no longer have to worry about his interference.”

  “Makes sense,” Fletcher muttered.

  “This move will also help you consolidate your hold on Star Watch. There are those who are going to resist the changes. Roll over them, sir, knowing that you’re going to get an upwelling of public support in time. But for now, your bulldog determination will flatten all opposition. After all, you’re the new Lord High Admiral, and you have to establish your authority if you’re really running the show.”

  Fletcher slammed the desk with one of his veined hands. “Damned straight, son. That’s the kind of talk I like to hear.”

  Becker stumbled backward and collapsed onto the chair. He seemed winded and diminished. He took a deep breath and worked to compose himself.

  Fletcher straightened, leaning back in his chair. He breathed heavily, and there was sweat on his face. His color didn’t look so good either.

  “I don’t feel so well,” Fletcher said.

  Becker stared at him with hooded orbs.

  Fletcher opened a drawer and took out a handkerchief, using it to wipe the spittle from his chin and dab the sweat from his pale features.

  “Feel really tired all of a sudden. I think it’s time for a nap.”

  “Yes,” Becker said. “Regain your strength. Then, summon Captain Maddox.”

  Fletcher studied the Intelligence captain. “Your time is up, sir. I have work to do. No one lives forever, you know.”

  Becker’s eyebrows rose suspiciously, and a shadow of fear passed over his face. The expression faded seconds later. With a grunt and a heave, Becker pushed himself out of the chair. He saluted.

  Fletcher picked up a stylus and hunched over a slate. He waved the captain away. He was tired and needed a nap. First, he would finish this memo. He had so much work to do and so little time to do it in.

  He’d almost forgotten about Maddox. Fletcher pressed a switch.

  “Yes, Admiral?” Ms. Livy asked through the intercom.

  “I want you to set up an urgent appointment with Captain Maddox.”

  There was silence.

  Fletcher scowled. “Did you hear me?”

  “Y-Yes,” she stammered. “You want to speak to him now?”

  “At once,” Fletcher said. “Well, after I’ve napped. Make it in three hours, in my office.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

  Fletcher stared at the intercom. How could he tell her that there were a million things he needed to do? He was so busy, so swamped—

  He clicked off the intercom.

  “I love it,” Fletcher said in the silence. “I’m in my element.” He’d heard someone else say that before. He realized it fit for him. As soon as he finished this memo he’d take a nap, and then speak to that young whippersnapper Maddox. He had the perfect mission for the so-called hero of Star Watch.

  -9-

  Maddox sat in the office of the Lord High Admiral. It was Cook’s old office, but with none of the furniture and a different occupant.

  James K. Fletcher was just as tall as ever, but he’d aged horribly and lost weight since the last time Maddox had seen him. The man had every physical evidence of age and weariness. Yet, his mannerisms and movements were those of a younger, healthy Fletcher.

  The dichotomy struck Maddox as odd. He didn’t dwell on it, though. It must be drugs or rehabilitation therapy giving Fletcher the strength.

  “I imagine you heard about the assassination attempt against me,” Maddox said.

  “What attempt?” asked Fletcher.

  Maddox told him about it.

  “Here in the city?” Fletcher asked, surprised.

  Maddox nodded.

  “Just a minute,” Fletcher said. “This is an outrage.” The admiral pressed an intercom button. “Yes, Ms. Livy, I want you to check a report.” He told her. Then, he clicked the switch and sat back, regarding the captain.

  Maddox wanted to launch into the tale of the Lolis II and Commodore Jasken, but he waited. He wanted to see how the first report went.

  “Captain,” Fletcher said. “I called you here because I’ve come to a decision.” He stared at Maddox. “We’ve had our differences in the past. But we’ve also worked together for the good of Star Watch.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Maddox said.

  “That wasn’t easy for you, was it?”

  “Admiral?”

  “Thanking me.”

  “I have no problem expressing my gratitude.”

  Fletcher’s featured tightened. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your wretched heritage. The foul New Men—their blood and ways pump through you, is that not so?”

  “Mary O’Hara is my grandmother.”

  “She’s a fine lady. She made an excellent brigadier of Intelligence. We had to cashier her, of course. She’d become a liability. She’d compromised Star Watch, and we can’t have that, son. No, it’s out of the question if we’re going to survive the new era.”

  Maddox grew still as the admiral spoke. A close observer could have seen Maddox practice his Pilgrim breathing. His eyes also seemed to drink in every detail as his ears soaked up the words and sounds around him.

  “I admire how you’ve forged ahead in Star Watch even with your traitorous blood always getting in the way. I’m referring to your New Man heritage, of course. O’Hara—she allowed others to capture and misuse her. It was because she trusted that scoundrel Ludendorff. I find her actions unconscionable, really. One would have thought she would commit suicide before she allowed the enemy to use her as a tool against our beloved Star Watch.”

  Maddox continued to Pilgrim breathe and listen.

  “Don’t think you fool me, son. I can see the fires rage in your heart. Traitors on the left of you and traitors on the right—no wonder you work so hard. You hope to establish without a doubt that you’re loyal to Star Watch.”

  Fletcher put both veined hands on the desk. His voice dripped with sincerity. “I admire fortitude. I admire your combat skills and quick thinking. Some people think you fly by the seat of your pants. They don’t realize you will do anything to achieve victory. I’ve seen it myself. I’ve felt the good results your hard work brought. You’re a hero, Captain Maddox, a true-blue action hero who fights for truth and justice. Am I right or am I right?”

  “Your words take my breath away, sir.”

  Fletcher pointed a big old index finger at Maddox. “Ahhh, I know what you just did. You’re a sly young devil. No one can bandy words like you. I would call you a veritable word-fencer, sir.”

  “Lord High Admiral, are you feeling all right?”

  Fletcher cocked his head. “That’s an interesting question. No, not one hundred percent. I feel a pain here sometimes.” He touched his forehead. “And you can’t believe how tired I am in the middle of the day.” The old man shrugged. “I’m a workhorse, son, just like you. We pull the traces no matter what kind of job it is. We get it done.”

  Maddox nodded slowly.

  Fletcher cleared his throat. He scowled, rubbing the spot where he’d indicated pain.

  Maddox watched, witnessing a change come over the old man.

  Fle
tcher’s hand dropped away from his forehead. His color became pale and his breathing shallow. As the color slowly returned, so did the Lord High Admiral’s demeanor.

  “Maddox,” the admiral said, sounding surprised. “What are you doing here…?” the words trailed off. “Oh, right. I’m giving you a new assignment.” Fletcher studied the captain. “I read about the Erill Incident. It happened six months ago, didn’t it?”

  “More or less,” Maddox said.

  “Uh-huh,” Fletcher said. He picked up a computer slate and clicked pages. He read for a time until he dropped the slate. Then, he peered closely at Maddox. “There’s a problem. This Erill in you—”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” Maddox said. “It isn’t in me.”

  Fletcher indicated the slate. “According to the after-action report, it healed your so-called soul wound.”

  “It did.”

  “And you fought this Erill in your mind?”

  “In my id, sir.”

  “Same difference,” Fletcher said. “You used some kind of Builder symbol embedded in your soul to defeat it.”

  Maddox shifted in his chair.

  “You don’t like how that sounds?” asked Fletcher.

  “Only that it’s incorrect.”

  “I see. Very well, Captain. Tell me about it.”

  “I sustained a soul-wound, in lieu of a better word, when I fought the spiritual entity Ska in the Alpha Centauri System.”

  “That was at the end of the initial Swarm Invasion?”

  Maddox nodded. “The wound drained energy and life essence from me. Six months ago, we chanced upon the Erills. One of them attacked our shuttle. I defeated it. I killed it and absorbed its power.”

  “And it was a spiritual entity?”

  “Yes, sir,” Maddox said.

  “Like a demon in the Bible?”

  “I’ve never met a demon, sir, so I don’t know.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, son. We’re flesh and blood. These Erills and Ska are spiritual. I don’t see how flesh and blood can kill a spiritual entity. That means it’s indwelling inside you.”

  “You’re wrong, Admiral. That’s what the Builder symbol allowed. I killed it with the symbol on the kind of playing field where I could face it openly—in my id.”

  “Sounds mystical,” Fletcher said.

  “I think you mean, full of crap, sir.”

  “That, too,” Fletcher said, his gaze hard on Maddox.

  “Be that as it may,” Maddox said, “the Builders, or someone, at least, have seeded the Erill System with billions of lurker missiles. The Builders must have figured these full-of-shit creatures were dangerous.”

  Fletcher gave him a mean smile. “I’ll play along, Captain. In fact, let’s suppose you’re right. According to the report, there’s an entire planet of these Erills just waiting to flood our galaxy.”

  “A city full of them,” Maddox corrected.

  Fletcher nodded, as if to say, “Thanks.” He leaned back afterward, picking up a computer stylus and tapping it against his chest as he stared at Maddox. “Star Watch has endless enemies. We have to prepare. We have to act wisely. That’s part of the reason we have the Patrol Arm of Star Watch. And it’s one of the reasons we have an Intelligence branch. It so happens that you belong to both.”

  Maddox waited for it, seeing now how neatly Fletcher had outmaneuvered him. He’d thought the old man was addled or something. Now, he was beginning to think that Fletcher was far more cunning than he’d ever known.

  “That’s why I’m sending you back to the Erill System,” Fletcher said. “We’ll make that its official name. You can come up with a name for the planet holding the City of Pyramids. Anyway, if you have this Erill energy in you, and if you have a way to slay these spiritual-entity creatures, then you’re the only one, by George, who can dare go back to the planet. Descend to the city. Plunder its ancient tech. Maybe it can give us something like Victory. Of course, you’ll have to take your crew to the star system. You’re a group of heroes, saviors to Star Watch. I’m giving you another opportunity to shine.”

  “So why does it feel that you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  Fletcher lurched forward, hurling the stylus at Maddox.

  The captain caught it out of the air.

  “There!” Fletcher said. “Those are startling reflexes, superlative even. Thus, I stand by what I said: you’re a hero and this is a hero’s task.”

  Maddox set the stylus onto the desk. The old man had thrown it at his face, at his right eye. If he hadn’t caught it… Where had Fletcher learned to throw a stylus like that?

  “Tell me something,” Fletcher said. “Do you really think you’re di-far?”

  “Sir?” asked Maddox, caught off guard again.

  “Di-far: a special agent of change.”

  Maddox stared at the Lord High Admiral.

  Fletcher shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I was just curious. You’re leaving today, son. Pack your things. Take your ship and go. You can call in every six months; let me know how things are going. If you discover something marvelous, call me up on the Builder device. Most all of, though, get me data about the Erills, about the aliens they slaughtered and how those aliens brought the Erills into our dimension. We have to make sure something like that doesn’t happen again.”

  Maddox sat there, thinking, realizing this was a new experience for him. The new Lord High Admiral had run circles around him. Maybe Fletcher was the man for the job after all.

  Maddox almost asked him about Nostradamus to see what would happen. An intuitive part told him to wait. The first act, the strangest part—what if that hadn’t been an act on Fletcher’s part? It felt like Fletcher was getting rid of Victory. If that was true, what was the right reaction to his new mission?

  “Is there anything specific I should try to find?” Maddox asked.

  “I already told you.”

  “I mean, do you have a gut feeling about what you think I’ll find out there?”

  Fletcher’s features stayed the same, but this time, Maddox read the Lord High Admiral perfectly. Fletcher did want something specific: his death out in the Beyond.

  It was an intuitive thing, but Maddox was certain about it. There’d been a change in guard at the very top of Star Watch…but unless he wanted to resign his commission, he was going to have to work within the limits of the new assignment and within the limits of having Fletcher as the Lord High Admiral.

  Yes, Maddox decided, he would go to the Erill System. Mary O’Hara was his grandmother. She was on Earth and she needed rehabilitation. He would go out there on assignment so he could stay in the loop of Star Watch to help her directly later. While in the Beyond, he would try to figure out what had happened in the Tau Ceti System with the Lolis II. Were the Bosks a new attack from a hidden foe, or from Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers?

  He would remain in Star Watch for another reason. He had to revive Galyan. If Andros couldn’t repair the ancient AI computer—Maddox might have to hunt down Ludendorff or find another means.

  The captain stood, saluting Fletcher. He would remain in Star Watch for Mary and Galyan’s sake, the sake of his crew, and because he wanted to figure out this new mystery.

  PART II

  THE CITY OF PYRAMIDS

  -1-

  Deep in the Beyond—ninety light-years from the Mira Binary System where Golden Ural had destroyed the last vestige of Thrax’s hybrid Swarm colony—was a star system that Galyan had recommended Maddox visit. The holoimage had recommended the place nine and a half months ago when the captain had still been suffering from the Ska soul-wound. Galyan had believed certain structures here could heal Maddox. The Adok AI had been gravely wrong about the method, but right about the place to seek the healing.

  Victory had traveled a long distance, and taken some months to reach the outer Erill System. There had been no communication with Earth from either Stokes or the Lord High Admiral during that time. The captain had taken his time so they cou
ld measure the pulse of the places they passed. He had almost headed for Brahma—Doctor Dana Rich’s homeworld. Ludendorff had gone there to find her.

  Instead, the captain had followed orders. The Geneva assassination attempt, the exploding Lolis II, Stokes’ worries and Fletcher’s actions… Maddox needed time to think.

  During the journey, Andros and his team continued to work on the ancient Adok computers. They’d also scoured the starship for hidden Adok-Builder parts, so far, not having any luck finding them—if they existed.

  “If nothing else,” Maddox told Meta, Valerie and Riker one evening, “we can log our time out here.”

  “Why does that matter?” asked Meta.

  “In case we have to take different measures later,” Maddox said. “The log will show we obeyed orders until we didn’t.”

  They were meeting in a ship cafeteria, eating cherry pie and sipping coffee. No one said it anymore, but they all missed Galyan.

  As they sat around the table, Meta and Riker glanced at each other.

  Treggason Riker was an older man with many bionic parts: one eye, one arm, one leg. He was an Intelligence sergeant, a grouch according to some, and a quick-draw expert with his stunner to others. He had rough old skin and a deep attachment to Maddox, having first met the young man on assignment as a wiser head to keep the hothead in check. That part had never worked out well for Riker. But he’d learned to love the captain like a proud father.

  “Is something on your mind?” asked Maddox.

  Meta nudged Riker.

  The sergeant nodded and cleared his throat. “Sir,” he began. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “No,” Maddox said.

  “Why are we really out here?” Riker asked anyway.

  “I said no.”

  “I know that, sir, but your wife and I would still like to know why we’re out here.”

  Maddox glanced from one to the other. Valerie did likewise. She seemed as surprised by the question as the captain.

  “We’re here because I’m following orders,” Maddox finally said.

  “I know the cover reason,” Riker said patiently. “But what’s the real reason?”