The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9) Read online

  “I shall remember this,” Ludendorff told Maddox.

  If you live long enough, Maddox thought to himself.

  “You’re serious about continuing this charade, aren’t you?” the brigadier asked the captain.

  “Quite serious, ma’am. But it is no charade.”

  “I don’t understand you,” she said.

  “Which proves that someone has tampered with your mind,” the captain said.

  “That does not necessarily hold,” she said.

  “You’re the brigadier of Star Watch Intelligence,” Maddox said. “You’ve read the reports about the professor during the last Swarm invasion, how he locked himself in his laboratory and developed the soul weapon—”

  “No!” Ludendorff said huskily, pushing himself to his feet, growing pale. “I don’t want to hear it. Stop! This is…this is too much.” He was shaking his head. “You have no idea what it was like having the Builder program move my limbs and guide my thoughts. I abhorred the experience. I was a tool, me, Professor Ludendorff. It was unthinkable. The endless days and nights working to build that awful weapon—” Ludendorff stopped talking, staring at his hands.

  “Your weapon won us the war,” the brigadier said softly.

  “By using me,” Ludendorff shouted. He looked back and forth between the brigadier and Maddox. With an inarticulate shout, he sank into the chair, staring forward as he seemed to age before their eyes.

  The brigadier glanced at Maddox.

  The captain waited, watching the professor.

  At last, the professor sucked down air, shuddering, seeming to recollect himself. He visibly took hold of himself, forcing the weakness and weariness away. It was an astonishing performance. Finally, the regular Professor Ludendorff seemed to have returned.

  “Are you satisfied?” he asked Maddox.

  “With what in particular?” the captain asked.

  “We’ve relived my shame.”

  “No shame,” the brigadier said. “You—”

  “Please,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “I pride myself on my mental acumen, on being one of the few humans who can act in an independent manner. Instead, I find that I am a mere cog like everyone else. It is most upsetting and frankly, humiliating.”

  “You’re still the professor,” O’Hara said. “I came to you for help. You have the answer, the means for achieving humanity’s salvation against the horrible Swarm Imperium. A mere cog, Professor? I don’t think so.”

  Ludendorff was staring at her like a drowning man watching the one person with a rope. He nodded, and straightened a little more.

  “You are correct,” the professor said. “I am the essential man. It’s hard to remember that sometimes. Having to relive such horrors—” Ludendorff scowled at Maddox. “Really, let’s end this farce. Or tell us, at least, how we can convince you that we’re both in our right state of mind.”

  Maddox nodded. “You can begin by telling me about the freighters—the Q-ships—and then tell me about your plan to save humanity, and why it needs Strand’s dubious help.”

  Ludendorff glanced at the brigadier before studying Maddox. “First, put down your gun.”

  Maddox shook his head.

  “Oh, very well,” Ludendorff said. “If you must hold the gun as a phallic symbol of your virility, then suit yourself. I am the essential man. You shall see that soon enough.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Maddox said.

  “Mock all you want,” the professor said. “But here’s the situation…”

  -26-

  Ludendorff settled himself more comfortably on his chair. He pursed his lips, eyed the gun for another second and then ignored it.

  “It’s interesting that you called my apparent freighters, Q-ships. That’s rather accurate. I wouldn’t have expected such historical insight from a man like you, a doer instead of a real thinker. But you’re right.”

  “Q-ships?” the brigadier asked.

  “A name merely,” said Ludendorff. “It means a hidden warship. My freighters are not cargo haulers. They are science vessels after a fashion, although much more militarily powerful than the Swarm science ships. You see…” Ludendorff eyed the gun again before glancing at the brigadier. “I had decided a while ago that I no longer enjoyed surviving on the sufferance of others. Now, I have no desire to set up my own political system and thereby have the boring task of running a polity.”

  “You’re too important to lead a large political organization?” the brigadier asked.

  “Just so,” Ludendorff said. “A president or even a dictator, for that matter, must attend to mundane matters on an almost continuous basis. That stifles the time for creativity and deep thinking. I am the most creative and the deepest thinker of all. Thus, I would be sinning against myself if I merely ran Human Space as its Lord Dictator. As you can well imagine, I am overqualified for the position and could have taken it upon myself long ago, if that had been to my taste.”

  “Your humility is astonishingly vast,” Maddox said dryly.

  “You mean that as mockery, I know. I am not humble, even though the experience with the soul weapon, as you say, left me…unsettled for a time. Once I recovered my equilibrium, I realized that I had been at the mercy of Star Watch and even the New Men for too long. It was time—if not to establish a polity—to arm myself with warships. Yet, I naturally realized that sovereign entities, such as the Commonwealth and the Windsor League, and even the Throne World, hate anyone powerful enough to commit violence. Sovereign entities with their warships desire to be the sole proprietors of war-making.”

  “You almost sound bitter,” O’Hara said.

  “Perhaps I am,” Ludendorff said. “Perhaps, though, I am simply bitter at that aspect of human nature. My solution to the dilemma proved elegant indeed. Throughout human history, sovereign entities have allowed privateers, war-fighting ships with letters of Marque. A privateer acts like a pirate ship with a notable difference. A pirate is an outlaw, literally outside the law. A privateer has letters of marque from a sovereign entity, allowing him to commit violent acts under certain conditions.”

  “Are you attempting to so thoroughly bore me that I set down my gun in fatigue?” Maddox asked.

  Ludendorff pretended not to have heard the comment. “My privateer Q-ships lack armor plating, such as even the missile cruiser possesses. They have powerful shield generators instead. When needed, they are able to defend themselves quite well indeed. Instead of arming them with laser or particle beam cannons, which any sensor officer could detect, they have a tri-system. When working in unity, the three vessels can produce a powerful Q-beam.”

  “And that is?” asked Maddox.

  “Deadly,” Ludendorff said. “I would say more, but I don’t wish to bore you further.”

  A faint smile appeared on Maddox’s face.

  “I have recruited the crews,” Ludendorff said. “They are loyal to me. I even have my own space marines.”

  “And you agreed to travel in the company of these Q-ships, ma’am?” Maddox asked.

  “Of course she agreed,” Ludendorff said. “She did it of her own free will. And the implication that she was foolish to bring a mere battleship and missile cruiser along is dead wrong.”

  “How is it wrong?” Maddox asked.

  “We traveled incognito,” Ludendorff said. “The Moltke and Defiant appeared to guard the so-called freighters. The two warships were too strong for pirates or even privateers to tackle but too small to cause any military fears from others.”

  “And if a Spacer Fleet had attacked your flotilla?” Maddox asked.

  “No plan is perfect,” Ludendorff said. “It’s always a matter of good or bad odds. I should point out one other matter. Given your bigotry against me, I’m sure you’ll find it unsettling.”

  Maddox inwardly tensed, although he continued to appear bland.

  “The Moltke holds one of the Builder items you picked up last voyage. The item is no longer irradiated, either.”

/>   Maddox glanced at O’Hara in surprise.

  “Yes, I have one of the items,” O’Hara said. “The Lord High Admiral allowed me to take it with his blessing.”

  “What does the Builder artifact do?” Maddox asked Ludendorff.

  The professor shrugged.

  “No,” Maddox said. “You need to do better than that.”

  The professor scoffed. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

  “What do you think it does?”

  “Ah,” Ludendorff said, holding up a finger. “I have a suspicion, you are correct, but I’m not going to say under duress.”

  Maddox thought about that. In the end, he pulled the other chair to him, turned it around and sat down, all the while keeping the gun aimed at Ludendorff.

  “No comment?” asked the professor.

  “No, a question,” Maddox said, “well, two questions. Why do you need Strand? How do you propose to spring him out of the Emperor’s prison on the Throne World?”

  “I’ll answer the last question first,” Ludendorff said. “You will go to the Throne World. With a little gold body paint, you could pass as a stunted New Man.”

  Once more, Maddox inwardly tensed.

  If Ludendorff noticed, he appeared not to. “Armed with my insights and technological wizardry, you will free Strand and bring him to the edge of the Throne World System. There, your crew in Victory will pick the two of you up. From there, you will join me several star systems over.”

  “I cannot conceive of any reason why I would agree to such an insane act,” Maddox said.

  “Because I order it,” the brigadier said. “You are a sworn officer of Star Watch. You can resign your commission, I suppose, but short of that, you will obey a lawful order or stand in contempt.”

  The faint smile returned to Maddox’s lips.

  “This is a serious matter,” O’Hara said.

  “First, ma’am, we must establish that you are not acting under Ludendorff’s duress.”

  “This is ridiculous,” O’Hara said. “I have just about had my fill of your insubordination. We have both participated in this farcical—”

  “Ma’am,” Maddox said, “anger proves nothing. A brain scan might help to convince me of your soundness.”

  “Do you wish to face a Board of Inquiry, Captain?” O’Hara asked.

  “Not particularly.”

  “Then put down your gun,” O’Hara said. “I am about to summon space marines, and I do not want them gunning you down for threatening a superior officer.”

  “Ma’am, you may summon them, of course. I won’t stop you. However, I will kill Ludendorff the moment you do so.”

  “What?” Ludendorff said, sitting forward. “I most vigorously protest.”

  “That’s insane,” O’Hara told Maddox. “I am beginning to suspect your good intentions. The Spacers held you for a time. Maybe they tampered with your brain without you knowing it.”

  “What’s this about Spacers?” Ludendorff growled, becoming alert.

  “Someone named Mako 21 warned him about you,” O’Hara said.

  Maddox almost told her to remain silent, but he stopped himself. This could be interesting and insightful.

  Ludendorff glanced at him sharply. “Mako 21,” the professor said, as if tasting the words. “She must have been a First Class Surveyor, a highly ranked one. She must have possessed potent modifications, too. What was she doing on Usan III?”

  O’Hara spoke up. “As I said, warning the captain. The Spacer told him to, ‘Beware the Methuselah Man.’”

  Ludendorff sat back, growing pale.

  O’Hara’s eyebrows rose. The professor’s actions seemed to surprise her. “Does that mean something to you?” she asked the professor.

  Ludendorff licked his lips as if he would speak, but he did not say anything more.

  Maddox watched the interplay closely.

  “The Spacers,” Ludendorff finally said. “I cannot believe this. How could this Mako 21 know anything?” He frowned, rubbing his chin and regarding Maddox. “Tell me—what happened on Usan III?”

  Maddox made a quick decision and told Ludendorff exactly what had happened.

  “Oh, interesting, interesting indeed,” Ludendorff said later. “The Spacers are wild fanatics, given to cultic fantasies. But they have delved into esoteric technologies and cannot be dismissed out of hand. This considerably complicates matters.”

  “Why?” asked Maddox.

  “Clearly, it’s possible Mako 21 knows our ultimate goal. The Spacers might try to thwart it.”

  “What is the goal?” asked Maddox. “It’s time to tell me what this is about.”

  Ludendorff studied the captain, finally sighing. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s why we need Strand. You know as well as anyone that in numbers, the bugs dwarf the Human Race. Their Imperium is thousands possibly tens of thousands of times larger than the Commonwealth, New Men, all humanity combined. I have come to believe their Imperium lies in parts of three separate spiral arms. That is inconceivably vast, almost beyond comprehension for lesser minds. We barely defeated an invasion of eighty thousand Imperial warships. There is reason to believe that the original invasion was supposed to be even larger. If it had been one hundred and fifty thousand Imperial warships, say, we would have lost. Now, with these latest science-team invasions, we know that the Imperium is continuing its attempts to conquer us. We also know that they know how to use hyper-spatial tube technology as created by a Builder nexus.”

  “From what you said earlier,” Maddox said, “the bugs used the hyper-spatial tubes poorly.”

  “For now, that’s true,” Ludendorff said. “What happens when the Imperium can use hyper-spatial tubes with precision? What happens when the Imperium launches three or more invasion fleets, each of them one hundred thousand warships strong?”

  “It would be the end of us,” Maddox said.

  “Exactly,” Ludendorff said. “Even you can see that.”

  “So…?” Maddox asked.

  “So, we must remove their ability to create hyper-spatial tubes,” Ludendorff said. “We cannot defeat them in straight battle, not with their mass against ours. Thus, we must avoid battle with them. I can see no other way to give us time to grow large enough to fight them.”

  “Grow large enough?” asked Maddox. “You just said they’re in three different spiral arms.”

  “Parts of three different spiral arms,” Ludendorff said.

  “Either way,” Maddox said. “We’ve barely begun to explore our local region of the Orion Arm. Thinking about expanding to other spiral arms when it would take—what, a million years to expand into our small spiral spur—”

  “Don’t be melodramatic,” Ludendorff said. “It would take much less than a million years.”

  “Ten thousand years—”

  “The point,” Ludendorff said, interrupting, “is that we want to avoid a war with the Imperium now. We’ll let the future take care of itself.”

  Maddox thought about that. “I imagine you’re not worried, or worried to the same degree, about a Swarm invasion fleet traveling thousands of light-years through endless Laumer-Points. From what we saw out there, a huge Chitin Empire stands between Human Space and the Swarm.”

  “In the Orion Arm, yes,” Ludendorff said.

  “Would Swarm fleets cross the vast empty space between the spiral arms to reach us?”

  “You’re still missing the main point,” Ludendorff said.

  Maddox frowned. “Oh. You already hinted at the answer. A Builder nexus creates a hyper-spatial tube.”

  “Ah,” Ludendorff told O’Hara. “He begins to see.”

  “But… There’s a way to destroy all the Builder nexuses at once?” Maddox asked.

  “What?” Ludendorff asked. “That’s madness. No, no, that’s not the point. A Builder nexus creates and powers a hyper-spatial tube. Victory used such a tube and traveled over two thousand light-years. Such length takes more power than a shorter hyper-spatial tube
. According to vigorous mathematical calculations, the theoretical limit of a safe hyper-spatial tube should be in the order of three thousand, nine hundred and sixteen light-years.”

  “That’s precise,” Maddox said. “What are the outer limits of an unsafe tube?”

  Ludendorff shrugged. “Five or six thousand light-years.”

  “And how do you know all this to be true?” Maddox asked. “Theoretical means possible. Hard practical application is far more meaningful.”

  “Your point is well taken. We would be better served with accurate data. Yet, suppose the theories are accurate? In order to save ourselves, we would still have to overcome several tough problems. Firstly, how do we find all the possible nexuses capable of transporting Swarm fleets to or near Human Space? Are there five such nexuses, or fifty or five hundred? Secondly, how do we reach each nexus? Thirdly, how do we ensure that each nexus is destroyed? Fourthly—”

  “Just a minute,” Maddox said. “Who knows more about Builder nexuses and hyper-spatial tubes than anyone else?”

  “Although it pains me to say it,” Ludendorff replied, “the answer is, Strand.”

  “Which is why you want me to break him out of the Emperor’s prison?”

  “Exactly,” the professor said.

  Maddox thought a moment before turning to the brigadier, “And you agreed to this madness?”

  O’Hara’s face glistened brightly, probably due to the sweat on her face and the severe inner strain.

  As Maddox opened his mouth to ask another question, he heard a heavy tread outside the closed door. Ah, he knew what must have happened. The brigadier must have stretched one of her feet to reach a hidden switch on the floor. Clearly, it hadn’t been easy for her to press without him noticing, and maybe the act bothered her—hence the perspiration.

  Maddox had a second where he understood what was going to happen. In that second, he wondered if Ludendorff was telling the truth. The Swarm Imperium was in at least parts of three different spiral arms. The extent of such an Imperium was mindboggling. Their warships—if they all came—would blot out the stars. Was it true that a nexus could only fashion a hyper-spatial tube five thousand light-years in length? That meant if they could destroy the nexuses in the Swarm’s vicinity, within a perimeter of five thousand light-years in any direction, then the Imperial fleets could only come at them the old-fashioned, slow way—through one Laumer Point after another. That could mean the Swarm would tackle humans later instead of now, and that would give mankind time. In that second of rumination, Maddox supposed the brigadier might be in her right state of mind. The various possibilities stayed his trigger finger.