by Brett Patton
Matt’s headlong plunge led first to Yve’s office, where a Mecha Auxiliary explained that Yve was out. Matt jumped over her desk and opened the door to Yve’s meeting room. No Yve. He turned to find Peal, Jahl, and Michelle waiting behind him. They must have followed from the lounge.
“Gotta find Yve,” Matt told them, heading for the door.
“He’s in Cruz’s office,” Jahl said, peering at his slate. “But you shouldn’t—”
Matt didn’t wait to listen. He rocketed out of Yve’s office and down the corridor to Cruz’s quarters. In the anteroom, armed Auxiliaries snapped to attention and went to block Matt as he shot into the room. Matt flipped over, caromed off the floor, flew over their heads, and hit Cruz’s office doors. He pulled on the latch without effect. The door screen read: MEETING IN PROGRESS.
“Hands up, cadet!” bellowed one of the Auxiliaries, over the snick of his MK-1 safety release.
Matt gave the door one last tug, then turned. One of the Auxiliaries held his weapon pointed at Matt. The other covered Michelle, Peal, and Jahl, who’d just entered the anteroom.
“I have to talk to Yve Perraux!” Matt said, raising his hands.
“Turn around,” the Auxiliary said. “Hands on your head!”
Matt groaned, frustration building in him like a pressure cooker. “I know how to solve the origin problem!”
“Last warning! Turn around!”
Slowly, Matt started to turn. If he could get a good kickoff from the doors, he might have a chance . . .
“Please let me pass,” a familiar voice said behind Matt. He turned to see Dr. Roth, standing expressionlessly on the carpet.
“Turn around!” the Auxiliary said. “One moment, sir, until we secure the prisoner—”
“Dr. Roth,” Matt said. “I know where Rayder is!”
Roth’s eyebrows rose just a millimeter. “I suppose you have the universal stellar coordinates memorized.”
“No! But my father knew. He found it. That’s what Rayder was after. Rayder killed my dad.”
“Turn around!” the Auxiliary bellowed.
But Roth laid a hand on the man’s arm, his eyes widening with intrigue. “Let me talk with him.”
Roth fixed his eyes on Matt. “Your father. The Union researcher on Prospect. How could he have possibly determined Rayder’s location?”
“The view behind Rayder in that video today matches an image my father showed me,” Matt began. “That must be the data he was trying to hide when Rayder came—”
“And you are in possession of this data?”
“No, I just remember a picture. But if we went back to Prospect, maybe we could recover it.” Matt’s wild gaze found Jahl and Peal. “Sergeant Khoury could recover it!”
“Stand aside,” Roth said finally, addressing the Auxiliary.
“Sir, I don’t recommend—,” the Auxiliary began.
“Stand aside and open the door.”
The Auxiliary gulped, lowered his weapon, and opened the door. Yve and Cruz were in heated conference with Congressperson Tomita on the screen.
“—tried the Mecha long-range destruct,” Yve said. “But there’s no confirming pulse.”
The two men fell silent and turned to stare at the opening door. Roth walked in, his Velcro soles scratching on the carpet, motioning for Matt and the others to join him.
“Of course the Mecha destruct didn’t work,” Dr. Roth said. “Rayder is no fool. He would disable the function first thing.”
“You tried to destroy the Mecha?” Michelle spoke up. “What about Kyle?”
Roth ignored her. “Gentlemen, we have new information. Cadet Lowell may have the answer to the location problem.”
Yve jumped, staring at Roth and Matt in turn. “How? His father was working on it, but he never solved it.”
“Or he never told you,” Roth said.
Yve shook his head and glared at Matt. “He’s known all this time?”
“He doesn’t have the coordinates, but if the data was there on Prospect, it can probably be recovered.”
Cruz broke in, coming out of his seat. “So what are you suggesting? Send this kid on a Displacement Drive ship ten thousand light-years across the galaxy? On the chance that he might be right? That we might be able to get that data?”
“Yes. On the fastest-reflux drive possible.”
“That’s the most idiotic plan I’ve ever—”
“Wait,” Congressperson Tomita broke in. “Why are you so vehement about this, Dr. Roth?”
Before he could answer, Yve cut the debate short. “Cadet Lowell is the son of Dr. Oscar Stanford. I assume you recall the nature of Dr. Stanford’s research on Prospect?”
Tomita stared at Matt for several long beats. Finally, he sighed. “Send him. And do it fast.”
PART THREE
BEYOND
“A good battle plan that you act on today is better
than a perfect one tomorrow.”
—George S. Patton, General of the Army, United
States of America
16
PAST
The UUS Helios had that raw look of a new Displacement Drive ship. Where fresh armor didn’t cover the surface, construction scaffolding webbed the rocky core. Workers swarmed through the asteroid, welding strong steel reinforcements, adding weapons batteries, and building the decks that would house its crew. This rock was fast being transformed into a fortified platform equal to that of the Ulysses.
At the moment, though, its incomplete dock held only a single Hellion, two Cheetah fighters, and a handful of transport shuttles. Matt looked at them uncertainly as their shuttle locked in to its cradle.
Jahl read his mind. “We don’t need the defense,” he said. “The Helios can run faster than anything out there. And, theoretically, even the incomplete armor can take a direct hit from a hundred-meter asteroid and survive.”
Regardless of the risk, the Helios was what they needed. Brand-new tech meant the ship could recharge its Displacement Drive in only thirty seconds. Displacing 120 times an hour, it could move 2,400 light-years at maximum speed. Prospect was more than fourteen thousand light-years away from Mecha Base, but even that vast distance was only a six-hour trip. They could be out and back in a day, if the data was easily accessible.
Still, Matt wondered, will that be fast enough? UNN showed the entire Universal Union in turmoil. Demonstrations on Eridani demanded the Senate and Prime act, throw everything the Union had at Rayder immediately.
Explanations of the problem of where to strike and the trouble with coordinating such a massive attack didn’t go over well with the public. Dr. Roth’s biomechanical tech was the magic cure for all their ills. He’d been built up by the press for so many years, they had blind faith that Mecha would save them. Hellions, Demons—they didn’t care. Heroes or new cadets—they didn’t care about that either. All they knew was they had to act now! The Union seemed to be simply getting in the way of Roth’s victory.
It also didn’t help that the fringe press had picked up on the HuMax angle and were playing it up for all it was worth. Why did Rayder look the way he did? Was it just a disguise to unsettle them, or was this the start of a HuMax rebirth?
History rewritten? The genocide a failure? the press asked. Bustling Senators ducked and ran when confronted with questions about the HuMax. The official explanation of the HuMax question was simply silence.
But Matt already knew: somehow, somewhere, HuMax had survived. He had been nose to nose with their leader. His father died because he was in the monster’s way.
Public rage had boiled over, and arsonists had already hit the Union Public Hall outside the Senatorial Chambers. The UNN ran bumps of the blazing flames and billowing smoke over the burning questions:
Union Incapacitated?
Military, Strategic Failure?
Have We Been Misled?
At the same time, governors of the Union’s new colony worlds began wondering openly about joining the Aliancia or Taikong.
Throughout the Union, everyone looked up at the skies nervously, expecting another attack from Rayder at any moment.
But Rayder had returned to the shadows. In the wake of his announcement, he seemed content to sit back and watch the Union tear at itself.
The questions were big and ugly: How long had he been planning his strike? How big of a force did he command? What was his ultimate goal?
Matt shivered. And this is the man I’m supposed to kill.
It seemed an impossible task. One man against a superhuman with Mecha and the capability to strike at the heart of the Union? He couldn’t even work with his teammates well enough to Merge the Demon. They probably wouldn’t find the actual coordinates to Rayder’s location; the data would be too bit-rotted, too far gone.
“We’ll find it,” Jahl said quietly to Matt, as they floated down the newly chiseled corridors of the Helios. Only a handful of steel pressure doors were in place. Everything else was plasti-sealed rock.
“That’s really—”
“Creepy, I know,” Jahl said. “But trust the Wunderkind of Hyva. If the data is on Prospect, I’ll retrieve it.”
“And if it isn’t?” Matt wished he’d been able to take Peal too. Hell, he wished Michelle and Soto and Stoll could come as well. But Senator Tomita was adamant: Matt and one data-recovery specialist only. Everyone else had to be prepared to ship out to defend the Union.
“I wish they were here too,” Jahl told him.
Matt just smiled back at him and tried to think of absolutely nothing, so Jahl might shut up for a while.
Unlike most Displacement Drive ships, the Helios’ bridge was buried deep within the heart of the asteroid. Matt and Jahl drifted down the elongated throat of the vessel before they found the bridge near the inner belly of the rock. Inside, the bridge was completely covered in NPP displays. The swirling maelstrom of the protoplanet dominated one side of their POV, while the hulking mass of Mecha Base covered the other. It was like floating into empty space. Matt instinctively flailed and looked for a handgrip.
“Footholds are available near the control consoles,” an unfamiliar man said from the center of the room. He was flanked by two familiar faces: Dr. Roth and Yve Perraux. Three pilots wearing interface suits reclined in the very middle of the room, their hands resting lightly on low consoles.
“Captain John Ivers, meet Cadet Matt Lowell and Auxiliary Jahl Khoury,” Yve said, when they’d drawn close.
Captain Ivers studied Matt briefly. “So you’re going to save the Union?”
Matt made himself nod.
Ivers seemed satisfied. He turned to one of the pilots. “Is everyone on board?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Launch for Prospect.”
The scene outside changed instantly to a smooth star field. Matt jumped. “You Displaced straight from Mecha Base? Uh, sir?”
Captain Ivers grinned. “Our pilots are good.”
“Your pilots are assisted by my bio-interface technology,” Dr. Roth said.
“That too,” Ivers conceded.
“They’re using the interface suit to sense and optimize the next jump,” Jahl said, respect resonating in his voice. “It’s—what?—potentially a factor about a hundred times more accurate than conventional piloting?”
“About that, yes,” Dr. Roth said, allowing Jahl a thin grin. “The challenge isn’t simply recharge speed; it’s in the calculation and compensation for gravitational fields outside the Displacement Drive ship’s microgravity.”
The stars changed again, this time more subtly, the star field shifting slightly toward starboard. One nearby sun glowed much brighter than before.
Before anyone got a chance to speak, the stars shifted again. The bright star disappeared from the display. They’d already shot right past it.
“It’s a little disconcerting,” Jahl said with a nervous smile.
“I’m afraid the Helios has few comforts,” Captain Ivers said. “There’s a storage room with sleep nets and Insta-Paks. Beyond that and the latrines, not much has been built out yet.”
“I’ll stay here,” Matt said.
Ivers nodded, while Jahl left for the storage room. Dr. Roth and Yve remained. Dr. Roth looked out at the shifting stars, his gaze far away. It was telling that he’d come on the trip to Prospect personally. Was he concerned that Rayder had captured his technology? Or did he not trust Matt?
Hours crawled by. Matt thought of sleeping, but his whirring mind couldn’t let him off the edge. So many questions. And not just how they were going to defeat Rayder.
I didn’t know he’d found it. Yve’s words.
I’m sure you recall his research on Prospect. Dr. Roth’s words.
This could mean the Union had been looking for Rayder’s location all along. No. Not Rayder’s location. Rayder had been looking for the same planet too. That’s why his father had died.
But why? What was that planet?
Matt had to ask. He floated over to join Yve, who rapidly tucked away his slate. “What’s up?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably.
“What was my father looking for?” Matt asked. “What is that planet?”
Yve plastered a sickly grin on his face and drummed his fingers on his slate.
“It’s not just Rayder’s location. I know that.”
Yve looked away. For a long time, it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything. Finally, he said, “It’s the final HuMax world.”
“Final HuMax world?” Matt asked.
“Their grandest world,” Yve told him. “The location was lost in the HuMax war. Or buried. Or . . . you don’t know how close we came to being wiped out. A lot of the records are simply gone.”
Matt nodded, suddenly understanding the implications. If that was the most advanced HuMax world, the technological treasures there would be enormous.
“Did the Union know HuMax were still alive?” Matt pressed.
Yve’s face went still and unexpressive.
“Did you know Rayder was HuMax?”
Yve sighed. “I didn’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“You didn’t or you can’t?”
Yve shook his head.
“I deserve an explanation,” Matt grated.
Yve laid a hand on Matt’s shoulder, and for a moment, his face convulsed in sadness. “Yes, you do. Matt, I feel awful about what happened to you, but I’m bound by an oath to the Union. I can’t give you your answers.”
“Which means yes?” Rage welled in Matt. It made complete sense. The need to hit the Corsairs with an irresistible force; the urgency for Merging the Demon; all the crazy, stupid chances they took. It was all because the Union knew who Rayder was. What Rayder was. A Superman who’d survived a genocide and was now bent on the destruction of the Union that had destroyed his race.
Matt changed tack. “How’d you get off Prospect?”
“I told you. The transport—”
Matt clenched his fists and cut Yve off. “The transport I saw destroyed, which somehow conveniently led to a Union Displacement Drive ship that didn’t exist, which escaped bombardment by Rayder. Right. Good story.”
“I—,” Yve began, then caught himself, clamping his jaw tight shut. For a while, the only sound in the bridge was the incessant hum of the ship’s antimatter core.
“It wasn’t just Rayder,” Yve said. “It was a half-dozen Corsair ships, led on by the promise of treasure by Rayder. Rayder turned on them the moment he had what he wanted. He wiped out all of their ships except one.”
“Which you shipped out on,” Matt whispered.
“I had to. I—”
“You joined the Corsairs?”
“Only to get away. As soon as we hit the Aliancia, I was gone.”
Matt gripped the railing hard enough to make his bones creak. Yve. Part of the Corsairs.
“The Corsairs aren’t a monolithic block,” Yve said, stepping away from Matt. “Some are relatively benign—”
“Benign!” Matt yelled, seeing his father crawl, tr
ailing blood, across the expanded-steel deck.
Captain Ivers snapped to attention and came to approach the men. Matt quickly forced himself to relax. Yve had done what he had to do. It was the only way out. Desperate people do what they have to.
“Is everything okay here, cadet?” Ivers said.
“Fine,” Matt said.
“Maybe you should wait in the storage room,” Ivers told Matt.
“It’s okay,” Yve said. “He has his reasons.”
Ivers studied the two men, then shrugged and drifted back to watch the displays above the pilots.
“I know what I did was wrong,” Yve said, softly. “And I know there are shades of gray you don’t want to see. But I hope this won’t change your dedication to wiping out Rayder, because he—”
Matt bellowed laughter. In the mind’s eye of his Perfect Record, Rayder gave the order to kill his father. Like he could ever forget that. Like any shade of gray would change that. No. He knew exactly what he was here for.
“Rayder’s going to die,” Matt said. “I guarantee that.”
From orbit, Prospect was a dusty, yellow-colored ball, striped by formidable ochre mountain ranges. There were no oceans, no lakes, no green oases. Only a thin blue membrane of breathable atmosphere at the horizon indicated that it was a planet with an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere capable of sustaining life. Even at that, it was tenuous, barely breathable. Matt remembered that some of the UARL staff had to use supplemental oxygen when they were out on the surface.
A suitable final world for HuMax, Matt thought, as they dropped toward the surface in one of the Helios’ shuttles. The tiny, four-person craft was completely full: Dr. Roth, Yve, Matt, and Jahl. Nobody spoke as they descended.
They touched down outside Prospect Advanced Research Labs’ surface hangar. Matt swallowed, scenes from his childhood flickering through his mind. Hiking to the nearby hills. The constantly shifting sand dunes. The bright steel of the hangar abraded by the incessant wind.
One of the hangar girders had fallen, and the domed roof had a broken-backed look. Other than that, it could have been the day Matt ran screaming out onto the sand sixteen years ago. The hangar door gaped open, sand cascading into its interior.
