The Lost Starship Page 17

  The pilot scrambled beside him.

  “What now?” Dana asked. “Meta will wait all day to get a shot at you.”

  “That means we’re at an impasse,” Maddox whispered into Dana’s ear. “I have a gun. Meta has a gun. Out there, the New Man is plotting to destroy us both. If we wait, we both die.”

  “Fine,” Dana told him. “We’ll join forces for the moment. What do we need to do?”

  “What can we do?” Maddox asked. “My only transport up is the flitter. One of the Saint Petersburg’s people shot the bottom of the craft.”

  “That’s easy enough,” Dana said. “We fix the flitter so we can fly out of here.”

  “You have such tools?”

  “I bet the shuttle does,” Dana said. “We’ll take theirs.”

  “That means defeating the New Man and his remaining people. At least one of them has a repeater. It’s possible another shuttle is on its way down.”

  As he spoke, Maddox heard quiet footfalls behind his tree. He understood that Dana knew Meta would try to rescue her. The doctor had kept him talking, likely to direct Meta. Now, the cavewoman would try to take him out from behind. This also meant Dana’s agreement to work together was a lie. It was time to change the power dynamics.

  First lifting his gun, Maddox brought it down hard against Dana’s skull. It was a risk. He didn’t want to give her a concussion, but he wasn’t sure Keith would be able to guard her. Besides, that would mean giving his gun to Keith, and he needed it against Meta.

  Dana crumpled face-first onto the ground.

  The movement behind the tree stopped. Maddox waited, listening. Then he heard the faintest of footfalls again. A branch made a soft creak.

  Because he didn’t know what else to do, Maddox decided to use the oldest trick in a gunfight. Slipping his force-blade from Dana’s inert form, he tossed it into the heavy undergrowth. He put it where he hoped was in front of Meta.

  The handle of the force blade struck leaves. A gunshot rang out—Meta firing at it.

  Maddox entered the undergrowth from the other side of the tree. He smashed past leaves and branches, and he reached Meta as she whirled around to face him. Another shot rang out. The round slammed into the soil.

  Not wanting to kill her, Maddox refrained from shooting her in the stomach. Instead, he pistol-whipped her, using the bottom of his handle to strike her across the jaw in a right cross.

  At that moment, it was obvious that Meta was from a heavy G mining world. The blow would have dropped most people. It barely caused her head to move. She must have strong neck muscles. With his left hand, Maddox punched her bare stomach. It was rock solid, like hitting a tree. She didn’t even grunt.

  Meta head-butted him, and if her forehead had connected with his nose, the fight would have been over. Maddox twisted his head aside in time. She staggered against him with her body. He let go of his gun and grabbed the wrist of her gun hand. She brought the flat weapon up anyway, just slower than otherwise. Her strength amazed him.

  Fortunately, Maddox knew many forms of unarmed combat. Maybe Meta did too, but the blow to her jaw with the butt of his pistol might have dazed her just a little. With an intricate and fast move, he twisted her arm. He kicked her nearest foot, and he flipped her. She was denser than she looked.

  Even so, she struck the ground with her back. Maddox stepped against her side as he held up her arm. He gripped her wrist with both hands and twisted hard enough so she let go of the gun. She groaned too, her first indication of pain.

  Before she could recover, Maddox had the flat gun. He aimed it at her as he squatted and retrieved his own. Then he indicated that she proceed him into the hideaway.

  Sullenly, rubbing her right wrist, Meta did as ordered, climbing to her feet and pushing through bushes. She gave a small cry of dismay as she saw Dana lying on the ground. The cavewoman knelt beside her, checking to see if the doctor was okay.

  “Here,” Maddox said. He gave Keith the flat pistol. “Check the ground back there. I dropped my force blade.”

  “Jolly good, Captain,” Keith said. He headed there and paused. “I’m surprised you beat that viper. She’s strong.”

  Maddox kept his gaze fixed on Meta.

  With a shrug, Keith headed past the tree through the bushes.

  On the ground, Dana groaned as her eyelids flickered open. With Meta’s help, she sat up. Maddox noticed Meta squeezing Dana’s arm as if signaling her. The doctor glanced slowly at Meta and then looked up at Maddox.

  Pain swam in Dana’s eyes, anger and surprise. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Captain Maddox of Star Watch Intelligence,” he said.

  “How did you defeat Meta?” the doctor asked. “You don’t look strong enough.”

  “Don’t let that fool you,” Meta said. “He’s tougher than he looks.”

  Despite the circumstances, Maddox found the cavewoman’s voice intoxicatingly rich and sweet.

  “Interesting,” Dana said.

  Maddox frowned. He didn’t like the doctor’s scrutiny. Something about it troubled him.

  “You disarmed Meta,” Dana said. “That was a dangerous thing to do. It would have been easier to kill her. Why didn’t you?”

  “Killing is distasteful,” Maddox said. “I have no appetite for it, although when the necessity arises, I do what I must.”

  “Fair enough,” Dana said. “Here’s another question. What now, Captain?”

  Indeed, Maddox thought. He fanned through options. His choices were limited, the situation worse than dire. Doctor Dana Rich did not wish to help him find or enter the sentinel. A New Man prowled nearby with heavily armed crewmembers. Sergeant Riker was dying. The Saint Petersburg waited up there, and orbitals too, with missiles and lasers. To make it even worse, the space beacon would report on Geronimo in twenty-three hours. If nothing else, he needed Doctor Rich’s help to take over the beacon through computer chicanery.

  “If you help me,” Maddox said. “The chancellor of the Commonwealth Council will grant you a pardon for your crimes.”

  Dana hunched her shoulders.

  Maddox waited for her to claim innocence. Most criminals did. It was one of the marks of their mentality: the idea that society or someone in particular had shafted them and thus everything they—the hurt individual—did wasn’t really their fault but someone else’s.

  “Will the high and mighty chancellor pardon Meta as well?” Dana asked.

  “To be honest,” Maddox said, “I don’t know. We can ask, and I can recommend, but that isn’t a promise.”

  “Give me a gun,” Dana said. “Then I’ll know you bargain in good faith.”

  “For now, I’ll keep the guns, thank you,” Maddox said.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Correct,” Maddox said.

  Dana scowled. “You know you’re never leaving Loki Prime, don’t you? You’re as much a prisoner here as we are. Welcome to hell, Mr. Intelligence Officer.”

  “Doctor,” Maddox said. “I know you aren’t that simple-minded. Consider the evidence. Two warring factions have come down onto Loki Prime for you. You have become a valuable commodity. That won’t stop until one side or the other has you.”

  “You don’t need me,” Dana said. “Let Professor Ludendorff help you board the murderous alien sentinel. He knows more about the vessel than I ever will.”

  “I respect your intelligence and cunning. Your statement means you want to know if we have Ludendorff or not. We do not, although we have his notes, or some of his notes. Star Watch Intelligence has also gathered a crack team to break into the sentinel. The last piece is you. Time is our enemy, Doctor. If you prefer to fester on this hell-world…”

  “How do you propose we get off?” Dana asked.

  “We need my flitter, its radio at least.”

  Dana studied him. “You’re claiming to represent the Star Watch. Yet, your enemies came down in a Star Watch shuttle.”

  “I’ll save you time from trying to pry the
rest of the information from me. We’re both operating in secrecy. The New Men have infiltrated spies and traitors into High Command, and we’re no longer sure who to trust.”

  Dana was obviously processing his words. “Okay. At least that’s logically consistent with my observable facts. I’ll help you get off Loki Prime if you take us with you. After that, I make no promises.”

  “Done,” said Maddox.

  Dana became thoughtful again, finally saying, “I doubt we can capture the shuttle, though. Despite the missiles, they still have too many people and machine guns. We have our flintlocks.”

  “If we can reach the flitter, I can call for reinforcements.”

  “Help me up,” Dana told Meta. When she was standing, with one arm over Meta’s shoulders, the doctor gingerly touched the back of her head. “You hit me too hard. I’m feeling sick.”

  “You have my apologies,” Maddox said. “Still, you’ll have to lead the way. I should also let you know that if some of your people try to sneak up and shoot me from concealment, you or Meta will be my first target.”

  “You mean Meta, then,” Dana said, “because you’re still hoping to convince me to help you with the sentinel.”

  “I think you’ll find soon enough that I mean exactly what I say,” Maddox told her. “Let us proceed on that understanding.”

  Dana stared at him as if she could divine his inner thoughts. Finally, she indicated to Meta to help her walk out of the hideaway.

  -20-

  In the distance, Maddox heard muffled flintlocks discharging. Once, a heavy assault rifle made sustained noise. Afterward, the number of flintlocks firing lessened.

  “It sounds like a running fight,” Meta said. “I hope one of them killed the torturer at least before dying.”

  Once more, the cavewoman’s voice struck Maddox pleasantly. In another setting—no, don’t go there. You can’t afford to have anything mar your judgment.

  “Torturer,” Maddox said. “They must have grabbed some of your tribe before, doctor, to try to force them to reveal your location.”

  Dana glanced at Meta before saying, “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “Sorry,” Meta muttered.

  Doctor Rich shrugged. “He has all the advantages. Don’t worry about it.” With Meta’s help, she limped along. From time to time, Dana squeezed her eyes shut, and she groaned twice.

  Maddox didn’t think she was faking. It wasn’t if the doctor had a concussion, but how badly.

  Keith began breathing heavily, and he rubbed his chest several times.

  After a while, Dana halted and shuffled around. Sweat slicked her face. “You seem to be playing fair with Meta and me. I ought to tell you then that we have even less time than you realize. The other tribes, both higher and lower, will be coming to investigate. They’ll know something catastrophic has happened. Each tribe will want to salvage what they can from us. We live like vultures down here.”

  “By all means, increase your pace,” Maddox said.

  They continued to move under the gloomy trees. The smell of smoke strengthened, and the sound of flames increased.

  “The fire’s growing,” Dana said. “What do you know? No one figured that was possible. I’ve heard old-timers say tribes have tried to burn each other out with a forest fire. The soil and trees are too wet to make it work. When those missiles hit, they must have spread enough flammable substances to burn long enough to dry out nearby trees. It will be good to remember that—in case we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives. Manufacture enough gunpowder and maybe we can burn out the Stone Dogs after all.”

  Maddox was only half listening. He kept analyzing their situation. Earlier, hidden scouts had paced them. Those scouts had hooted a warning, but they didn’t seem to be there anymore. What had happened to them? Likely, once they’d seen Dana had made it to the hideaway, they must have run back to help against the shuttle crew. He bet each prisoner dreamed hours a day of ways off the planet. Even though the New Man was deadly, Dana’s tribe kept trying to snipe him and the shuttle crew. They obviously wanted what was left of the shuttle.

  Beside Maddox, Keith wheezed. The bubbling in his throat sounded worse than before. The pilot turned his head and spat red-stained saliva. Maddox wondered if Keith realized the significance of the color. He hoped not. He wanted the ace upbeat for as long as possible.

  “This way,” Dana said, indicating a faint trail.

  Flintlock fire had intensified again, although it remained muffled in the distance. A heavy assault rifle opened up. A person screamed. It was a shrill and continuing noise.

  Keith swore under his breath as he shifted his shoulders.

  Dana noticed with seeming interest—Maddox watched her sidelong. He digested her awareness, trying to figure out what it meant. He didn’t care for the screams either, although he could compartmentalize his unease so it didn’t interfere with his present task. The point to remember was that this was Loki Prime. Here lived some of the most ruthless people in the Commonwealth. Many of those would use what they considered as squeamishness or weakness against a person. Dana was a hardened denizen of this place. Maddox knew it was important never to forget that.

  Ahead of them through the undergrowth, a hidden man muttered incoherently between wheezing inhalations. With a sting of recognition, Maddox realized it was Sergeant Riker.

  Dana must have heard him too. Her step slowed.

  “Hurry,” Maddox said.

  She did, and in seconds, they came upon a gargantuan flattened bush and trampled ground. There were two crushed lines through the spider grass. Maddox frowned until he realized those were wheel marks.

  The flitter—it was gone! How were they supposed to get out of here now?

  Calm, stay calm—think. By the signs, someone had taken the flyer. They hadn’t taken the sergeant, however. Maybe he knew what had happened.

  Riker sat on his rear with his back to them. He fiddled with his arm, muttering, trying to—

  The sergeant woke up. He found the package. Keith had asked him about the box earlier. The packet had held Riker’s prosthetic arm. The sergeant had become lucid enough to fit the arm into his socket. Now, it appeared as if he was trying to turn it on, maybe make adjustments.

  “Sergeant,” Maddox said.

  Riker’s head lifted, but he didn’t turn around.

  “Keith,” Maddox said. “Help him.”

  The pilot shoved his pistol through his belt and walked in front of Riker. The sergeant shouted in surprise, pressing his prosthetic arm. It hummed, and from the shoulder, it raised threateningly as Riker remained seated. The other arm moved. Riker grabbed a cloth and put it before his mouth.

  “Walk around him please,” Maddox told the women. “Keith. Back away. The sergeant doesn’t remember who you are.”

  Dana and Meta complied until they walked before an even more astonished Sergeant Riker.

  “Sit,” Maddox told them.

  Meta and Dana did. Maddox didn’t think they would try anything now. They were too interested in getting off Loki Prime. Still, it paid to be cautious.

  “Sergeant,” Maddox said in a commanding voice.

  Riker’s head swayed. He kept his mouth covered, and the rag was red. The poor man’s real eye was horribly red-rimmed and glazed. He must be running a high fever.

  “It’s Captain Maddox,” Maddox told him.

  “I know who you are, sir,” Riker said in a wheezing voice.

  “You found your arm, I see.”

  “Yes, sir, and I got it working. Who are these, these—” He began hacking, sounding wretched. He had to bend over and finally wheezed air down.

  “It’s no use for him,” Dana said. “You need to—” She sliced a finger across her throat. “The swamp spores are deadly. They can spread fast.”

  “Ha-ha,” Riker laughed drunkenly, staring at her. “Cunning witch, aren’t you? Old Sergeant Riker isn’t going to lie down to death so easily as that, though. Captain Maddox may be overly ambitio
us, but the lad needs a steadying hand like mind. He gets carried away otherwise. No, I’m not quits just like that. So, you can stop scheming. The young captain will see through your cunning, you can count on that.”

  “Never mind her, Sergeant,” Maddox said. “Who took the flitter? Why didn’t they shoot you?”

  “Me?” Riker asked, sounding indignant. “Why not shoot me? Oh, no, sir,” he said. “I woke up, I did. I took my arm and crawled out of the flitter. I hid because I heard them coming. I saw him too.”

  “Saw who?” Maddox asked.

  “The golden-skinned killer, sir,” Riker said. “He had people hooked up like oxen. A woman was with him. She had an assault rifle. They forced the others to lift the flitter onto the wagon. It was a big old cart, sir. I couldn’t believe they lifted the flitter. It ain’t light, you know?”

  “Strange,” Maddox said.

  “Then I noticed their eyes, sir,” Riker said. “The ones hooked to the cart like oxen. They looked drugged. Some of them cried out as they lifted the flitter. I think some of their muscles tore, or shoulders popped out of their sockets. The others kept right on lifting your flyer onto the cart. I wondered if they had super-strength.”

  “Or a New Man drug to give them such strength,” Maddox said. “Hysterical strength, I believe it’s called. I wonder if that’s part of their secret.”

  “Sir?” Riker asked.

  “Never mind,” Maddox said. “What else? Do you have anything else to report?”

  “I do indeed, sir. Old Sergeant Riker has been paying attention to your sly ways. I thought to myself, ‘What would that young hothead do in a situation like mine?’ Then it came to me, sir. I knew exactly what to do, and I did it on the spot.”

  “Do you care to tell me what that was?” Maddox asked.

  Riker blinked his red eye, and he started coughing. Finally, after a twenty-second bout, he wheezed down air like a dying man.

  “Sir,” the sergeant said, “before the others reached the flitter I called upstairs.”

  “You used the flyer’s radio?” Maddox asked.

  “I did, sir.”

  Maddox went cold inside. Had Riker called the destroyer or the scout? “Who did you speak to?” he asked.