Becker scoffed at the idea. You’re not an idiot, he told himself, so don’t come up with an idiot’s excuse. Clearly, it had not been magic. That was just a word for unexplainable things. Hekkus had a dense brain with a massively enlarged pituitary gland. That meant something, right? The Bosk prisoner hadn’t spoken to anyone else despite their best efforts. Hekkus had shown fantastic abilities to resist pain. By the words he’d spoken, Hekkus seemed to have analyzed him. That was impossible, of course, but… There had been that pressure against his mind, and also the nausea in his body. That was real.
I wonder what’s deep in the cavern. What could it hold? Why did I alter the record? Those questions and others plagued Becker’s sleep so he got much less than normal.
While all this occurred, Becker continued breaking other Bosks without difficulty. They were physically strong and exceptionally tough, but except for the Draegars, not that smart.
One thing was bizarre, though. None of the other Bosks or Draegars knew about Hekkus Laja. There was no record about him anywhere on the planet. That was freaking weird, right? At the start of the investigation, there had been something about him having a connection to Methuselah Man Strand. Yet, as much as Becker searched, he couldn’t find the old data. What had happened to the data? And…just who was or who had Hekkus Laja been then? What had been his purpose? How could the Bosk giant have said with such conviction that he believed he would live forever? How had Hekkus known that Becker wanted power? And how could the one called he, deep in the cavern, help Becker acquire the power?
In the end, the last question began to consume Becker. Sure, breaking tough guys and girls like the Bosks was fun. He showed the bullies of the universe why it had been a bad idea to screw with him as a kid. They’d given him a deep and abiding passion for revenge, and he really enjoyed that passion.
Josef Stalin had been wrong, too. Vengeance was not best served cold. It was best served by the mood of the day. Sometimes hot felt best. Sometimes cold was excellent. Just like poker answers, it depended on the situation.
Well, here was the thing. Becker went back to the computer cubicle. He set up one of his special programs and started hunting for all the data there was concerning that deep cavern where Space Marines had found Hekkus Laja unconscious among the rubble.
It soon became apparent the Bosks had no data on that cave. The information wasn’t hidden. It wasn’t scrubbed. Such data simply didn’t exist.
Okay…Becker thought to himself. Why had the Space Marines picked that cave to explore?
He hacked into the Bismarck-class battleship’s computer system, the one that had sent the Marine shuttle to the surface. The Brandenburg’s computer files didn’t give a specific reason for searching that cavern.
That struck Becker as odd.
He had as great a passion for solving mysteries as he had for breaking tough guys and girls. He also was a genius, and had brilliant intuition. In other words, Becker believed in playing a hunch. Perhaps that why he was both fascinated and repelled by the idea of Maddox being di-far. He knew Brigadier O’Hara considered Maddox as Intelligence’s greatest agent. Becker believed that was him, even if he was still in embryo.
Becker did more homework at the cubicle, discovering that Space Marine Lieutenant Lee Wong had led the shuttle team. None of the Marines had experienced any headaches or nausea, or listed any suicides or other problems after having dealt with Hekkus.
Becker pondered that as he leaned back in his chair. He leaned forward and did more searching. He found his answer forty-seven minutes later. Hekkus had been unconscious the entire time with the Marines.
Fine. That was just fine.
Becker’s fingers flew over the panel as he pulled one piece of data after another. In the end, he made up a reason and used a shuttle to go from the special project corvette to the Brandenburg.
He interviewed the Space Marines involved in the pickup, but found nothing important. Finally, he asked Lieutenant Lee Wong about the mission as the two of them sipped drinks in a battleship lounge.
Wong was a big old boy with flat features. He stared at Becker for a time, not acknowledging the question.
Becker remained calm, waiting. He would have liked to have Wong on the medical bed with electrodes attached. That would get the muscle-bound clod talking.
“Ah, I remember,” Wong said at last. “The directional buoy led us to the cave entrance. Command had dropped those on places to land. We went to the cave first. The men didn’t like the cave, said it was haunted.”
“You didn’t put that in the report,” Becker said.
Wong shrugged massive shoulders, looking uneasy.
“What is it?” Becker asked. “What’s wrong?”
“The cave was haunted. I felt it, too. But I knew we had a prize waiting for us.”
“Oh?” Becker said, refraining from a skeptical tone. He knew that might shut the lieutenant down.
“I was right, wasn’t I? Our captive proved to be an important prize.”
“You were right. But how did you know you would find him?”
Wong frowned. “The directional buoy led us there. I figured command had a reason for that. Ah. I remember. Yes. That was a priority buoy. I couldn’t go back upstairs without anything if command had as much said that searching the cave was critical. I surely couldn’t tell the commodore we’d fled from a haunted cavern.” Wong blinked several times. “You won’t put what I just said in your report, will you?”
“No.”
Wong looked relieved. “Is there anything else?”
“No. That wraps it up. Thanks, Lieutenant. I’ll put that you were most cooperative.”
Becker set his glass on the table and stood. Wong stood too and reached out to shake hands.
Becker expected the big Marine to squeeze hard just for kicks. That was what many big dickheads had done to him in the past. But Wong shook hands gently.
That made Becker angry as he walked away because he knew Wong thought of him as a little weakling.
As soon as he reentered his shuttle, Becker forgot about getting even with Wong. He wasn’t going to write any report because he’d lied about needing the interviews. He wondered why Wong had lied to him, though. Becker had already checked. Brandenburg command hadn’t dropped any directional buoys on or near the cave.
Becker snapped his fingers. He hadn’t checked the drop shuttle in question.
Once he got back to the corvette, Becker hurried to his computer cubicle, searched and found the drop-shuttle’s log entries. To Becker’s amazement, it showed the directional buoy’s signal that led the team to the cave.
But Brandenburg command hadn’t shown any launched buoys—
Wait a minute. Becker did some deeper scans. He typed and read for sixteen minutes and eleven seconds before he found it. The strength of the directional buoy leading the drop shuttle to the cave had been one point eight times as strong as Star Watch standard.
Becker sat back, tapping his chin. What did that indicate? One point eight was too far from the standard deviation. That would indicate…
“A non-Star Watch signal mimicking a directional dropship buoy,” he whispered.
In other words, someone had wanted Star Watch to pick up Hekkus Laja. Who was this someone? Hekkus had said that he was down there deep in the cavern.
Who was he? And why did Becker feel such a sense of anticipation? He wasn’t going down to the planet to explore some haunted cavern, was he?
In that moment, Becker knew. That was exactly what he was going to do.
-11-
Two days later, Becker watched as mammoth Lieutenant Ervil Larick piloted a shuttle down from orbit.
The Neptunian was an imposing figure originally from one of the ice giant’s cloud cities. He was in his mid-thirties, tall with brown bristles for hair and a layer of hard fat over dense muscles. He was closer to 325 pounds than 300 and was prodigiously strong. He had a mean face with fat enfolding his brown eyes.
The pro
blem with Larick had always been run-ins with the law. It had started early, with stints in what passed for juvenile hall in the highly populated cloud city. Always huge for his age, he’d gotten in fights, lots of them, pounding on the losers, breaking bones with his fists or stomping on them with his boots. He couldn’t help it, and that was the problem. His stepdad, a monster of a man, had been a mean drunk and pounded the crap out of him for the smallest infractions. At fifteen, though, when dear old stepdad tried it next, Larick had lost it. Using a lamp, smashing the wife-beater over the head and then stomping on him after he fell, he’d watched the man’s brains leak onto the carpet from his cracked skull.
The result had been his longest stint behind bars, and it had hardened Larick—as they’d sent him to adult prison. He’d grown up fast, too, and never was anyone’s bitch. The first inmate that tried to rape him had ended up swallowing most of his own broken teeth.
The thing that saved him, you could say, was a passion and excellence for wrestling. His high school principal worked out a crazy deal with the local judge. They let Larick out to practice with the wrestling team. He won every meet and climbed his way to a championship bout for the Neptunian High School World Trophy. The problem—Larick was always running into problems—was that he “accidently” killed his opponent in a chokehold. They’d given him the trophy anyway, and the high school principal had proudly put it in the main display case back home at school.
Larick’s cloud city had never beaten the other more prestigious cloud city in high school wrestling before. It was considered huge, and had been Larick’s big break, and the reason should be obvious. A high school couldn’t proudly display such a wonderful trophy and victory if the other side could say, “You mean when your jailbird murdered our poor boy. Yeah, that was a real good job there— you lousy cheaters!”
The principal spoke to the judge while they walked the local golf course, hitting balls. The judge slept on the proposal and called up the seventeen-year-old killer the next day.
“Lad,” the judge said from his bench, looking down at the muscle-bound, slope-shouldered youth. “You’ve been in a bad environment most of your life. I’ve read your file. It’s just scandalous how your alcoholic stepfather beat you.” The judge shook his head to show how upset he was. “And to toss you in prison with those adult animals—I don’t think our society has given you a fair shake or a chance to improve. You need structure, and you need healthy role models. Now, son, I’m going to give you that chance, if you’re wise enough to take it. Are you wise enough?”
By seventeen, Larick had ingested and often used what could have possibly been the most valuable lesson of his life. He had an agile mind and a far-above-average intelligence. Like a shark, a hyena or a stick-up artist, he had a highly developed ability to spot weakness. Like a lion or other predator using camouflage to sneak closer to prey, he had also mastered the ability of cover. In a technological world, that often meant buttering up the higher authorities wanting to use his strength for their own ends.
A bullying punk of seventeen, one who hated anyone telling him what to do, could have well sneered and spat at the judge. Instead, with cunning shining openly in his brown eyes, Larick straightened from his slouch and forced a sincere look onto his wide face.
“Judge, I want to improve. You have no idea how much. I take that back. You must see all kinds of bad people come through. I expect you can see through all of them.”
The judge nodded.
“What can I do, sir?”
The judge fingered his gavel, his thoughts unreadable, maybe at war with his conscience. “Son, I want you to enlist in Star Watch.”
“Would I leave prison first?”
“Of course you would,” the judge snapped. He cleared his throat, adjusted his robes and smiled faintly. “I would commute your sentence—if the warden believes it justified for good behavior.”
Larick’s features fell. He got in fights all the time in prison.
“The warden owes me a favor,” the judge said cryptically.
Young Larick figured that was a good sign, and nodded. “In that case, I’ll gladly enlist, sir.”
“Fine, that’s just fine, son,” the judge said. He pointed the gavel at him. “You just make damn sure that I don’t regret this mercy. Your city is counting on you.”
“You won’t regret it,” Larick said. “I promise.”
So Larick left prison, joined Star Watch and kept his nose clean long enough to pass basic. But he was incorrigible. He was a bully and he indulged himself on many planets over the years. When he went drinking in bars, for instance—having learned that from his stepdad—he got in fights, breaking bones, faces and hearts by often permanently maiming or killing a family’s breadwinner.
It was a long and sordid tale, and it eventually got Larick put into military prison with psychological evaluations pinpointing his unrepentant personality. He liked inflicting pain with his hands and feet, and he really didn’t care whom he did it to either.
That might have been the end of it for him, but Captain Becker had been on the same planet at the time and needed heavy muscle willing to use it hurtfully. Becker had used Intelligence back channels, and the warden had gladly given him the sullen, incorrigible giant.
That had been the start of a new career for Larick, as Becker had done his homework back then, too.
“Here’s the pitch,” Becker told him in a dingy dark room. “You do exactly what I say when I say it, and I’ll give you cover when you need it. But. There is a great big but in this. If you beat up and smash the wrong people, I’ll burn you in secret in the most agonizing way possible.”
“What do you mean?” Larick growled.
“In normal jargon, you like hurting people. It fills the void in you. Now I can give you more opportunities to hurt people than you’ll believe possible, but you’ll have to learn to toe the line when I say. If you can learn that one lesson, you’ll be golden for the rest of your life.”
Larick understood, and he nodded, realizing hidden agents with rifles must be ready to kill him if he said otherwise. Surprisingly, throughout the years, the two learned how to aid each other. Larick realized that Becker was the smartest, cleverest bastard that he’d ever met, and that Becker had a need to hurt people but lacked the power to punch out and stomp his victims. Even better, Larick learned how to conceal his brutish nature, at least a little. He learned just enough self-control to make him truly dangerous. And Becker had been right. Larick smashed hundreds and knew he would smash hundreds and maybe thousands more…if he kept Becker safe from harm.
That was funny. Larick had learned how to protect, becoming a master at it, in order to destroy more and with impunity. But he also knew that someday he was going to grind Becker into the dust for treating him as the less intelligent between them. That would be at the end of it, though, and Larick figured that was a long way away.
In any case, that was the life story of the pilot taking the shuttle down onto Jarnevon. There was a squad of MPs in back, and they were all going to do exactly what Becker told them, or Larick would make them wish they had.
-12-
Jarnevon was a small, windy, jaggedly mountainous planet, the second from the white star. Jarnevon was also dense and thus had a higher surface gravity than Earth. Becker didn’t feel that at first because of the dampeners in the shuttle.
The captain peered out of the windshield. The steep mountains with their serrated peaks, sharp cactus growths and narrow valleys had a rough beauty. The Bosks were proud of their planet. Maybe this was the reason.
From Bosk literature, sparse at it was, came another reason for their pride. Too much radiation reached the surface. That radiation sterilized most things. The tough cactus growths on the stony mountains were an exception, along with several species of native, roach-like insects. That Bosks could thrive here showed they were unique as well.
It hadn’t always been that way. The planet had proven a harsh experience for the original colo
nists, killing half of them within the first five years.
The original colonists had used an old-style generation ship to reach Jarnevon. It had been a long and lonely way from Earth and human civilization. That had been before humanity acquired Laumer Point technology.
It meant the planet had shaped the surviving colonists, shaped them for over one hundred and twenty-three years in isolation. They’d lived close to nature the first twenty-five years, using caves for shelter against the elements and heavy radiation. According to strange, ancient ruins, an alien civilization had once flourished here. Maybe primordial emanations from the extinct aliens had tainted the colonists; maybe it had just been the radiation. The women had too many miscarriages and the men’s sperm count had been woefully low. Births had been rare, too rare and malformed for the colony to survive long.
The need brought the solution; in this case, the vats, as the growing stations were colloquially called. In the vats, scientists joined healthy sperm with egg and nourished the union. Sometimes, the scientists helped the process along with prenatal genetic tampering. Sometimes, they destroyed the weak fetuses. Jarnevon needed strong babies in order to have a strong race. At some point during those years, Strand must have stopped by and aided their social evolution, nudging them into becoming Bosks.
The scientists with their vats, the harsh environment and Strand’s nudging had results. For one thing, the sperm count had risen dramatically in the Bosk men, while Bosk women soon gave live births more and more often. The reason for vat births soon changed. Instead of helping with simple survival, the vats now produced special workers, soldiers and Draegar geniuses.
Strand came back and modified them more. He developed the Bosks into his backup race and planet. After Maddox captured Strand and brought him as a prisoner to the Throne World, Lord Drakos had taken up the Methuselah Man’s slack.
In the end, because of Strand, Drakos and Bosk meddling with the Commonwealth of Planets, Admiral Piedmont arrived with a Star Watch fleet. Jarnevon was joining the Commonwealth the hard way, through Space Marine occupation and Intelligence shifting of the leaders.
The Lost Intelligence (Lost Starship Series Book 12) Page 10
