The Lost Patrol Read online

  “I do not accept your ‘tedium’ explanation,” Galyan said. “You have a self-destructive side to your nature. When you are agitated, you tend toward extreme actions. This is a case in point.”

  “That’s quite enough, Galyan.”

  “But Captain, your life is at issue. I cannot ignore that. Without you at my helm—”

  “I’m going to cut communications,” Maddox said.

  “That is illogical. I can easily appear in the capsule as a hologram, continuing the conversation. You will listen to what I have to say. It is for your own benefit.”

  “Good,” Maddox said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The correct idiom is, ‘I’m doing this for your own good.’”

  “Oh. Yes, my data banks agree with you. I have made the correction in my speech center. Thank you, Captain.”

  Maddox checked a monitor. The balloon approached its float height. He’d felt a decrease in the rate of ascent. He was in near-space, although he was still in Earth’s atmosphere. The outside air was thin, but still generated enough drag to prevent anyone from deploying satellites at this height. The infinitesimal drag would soon slow any satellite so it plunged to Earth.

  Leaning forward, the captain glanced out a tiny porthole. It was dark outside, with the great blue of Earth spreading below. If he went outside in a shirt, the low pressure would turn the liquids in his body tissues to gas. It would be like the time he’d sprinted through a vacuum from a shuttle in one of Victory’s hangar bays to a pressurized corridor. Those few seconds had almost killed him.

  “Admiral Fletcher’s discovery regarding the New Men has troubled you for over a year already,” Galyan said. “This is simply the latest manifestation.”

  Maddox ignored the comment, although he knew the AI referred to the dirty secret learned in the Thebes System of “C” Quadrant.

  “The New Men do not sire girls,” Galyan said, “only boys.”

  “How fascinating,” Maddox said.

  “Sarcasm only proves my contention,” Galyan said. “The implications of the news are obvious. Since the New Men do not sire girls, they kidnap normal women as breeders. But that creates a problem for you, Captain.”

  “Nonsense,” Maddox said.

  “By necessity, that means every son is genetically half New Man and half regular human, what you refer to at times as a half-breed.”

  Maddox studied the monitor. He’d reached maximum altitude. With great care, he rechecked his equipment, making sure the chutes were in place and ready to deploy. The experts considered this dangerous, calling for perfect body control. Ever since hearing that, Maddox had been determined to try.

  “I have studied your medical records,” Galyan said, “paying particular attention to your psychological profile. Your mother’s impregnation by a New Man has always troubled you, as you have hated the label of half-breed.”

  Behind the visor of his helmet, Maddox’s blue eyes hardened. His mother had escaped from an experimental facility while he’d been in her womb. The event had cost his mother her life.

  “My analyzer has played out all the possible scenarios,” Galyan said. “The one with the highest probability is this: You abhor the New Men, but have adjusted to the reality that you have one half their bloodline. Now, with our new data, you believe that you might be a run-of-the-mill, Throne World New Man, as they are all half-breeds. Because of this, you have become more reckless in your choices, the self-destructive issue raising its head.”

  “That’s a nice theory,” Maddox said in a bland voice. “But there’s a problem with your analysis.”

  “I see no problem.”

  “It’s obvious,” Maddox added.

  “I can play that game, too, Captain, and I must say that is nonsense.”

  “Well played, Galyan.”

  “Why, thank you, Captain. Your abrupt change in attitude causes me to hope you finally see the wisdom of what I’m saying and will end this madness.”

  “I suppose it doesn’t matter to you and your analysis that a New Man has golden skin and that mine is white.”

  Galyan fell silent.

  “What causes their golden coloration?” Maddox asked.

  “A simple—”

  “There’s a second problem with your theory,” Maddox said, talking over the AI. “After several generations of interbreeding with genetically regular women, the New Men would have become normal humans themselves, their genetic uniqueness diluted of its so-called superhuman qualities. Unfortunately for your analysis, that isn’t the case. In fact, it’s the reverse. The New Men have become increasingly ‘superior’ to regular humans.”

  “It is strange,” Galyan said, “but I had not considered that issue. I find it telling, however, that you already have. You have proved my point. You are worried about being a normative New Man and have already carefully thought out the various possibilities.”

  “Wrong,” Maddox said. “My reasoning was a simple matter of quick detective logic. It was elementary, as they say.”

  “My analyzer says there is a nineteen percent probability that you are telling me the strict truth.”

  “As high as that?” Maddox asked with a hint of sarcasm.

  “I see the problem in greater depth now—the idea that there would be genetic dilution given continued breeding with normal women. I am analyzing…Oh. There must be another process involved during the pregnancies. The New Men must modify each fetus in the womb with some type of invasive method.”

  “Precisely,” Maddox whispered. Had his mother escaped the test facility soon enough, before he’d received any Frankenstein modifications? The idea troubled him. Dwelling on it these past months had brought an old curiosity to the surface. Who was his father? He wanted to know and wasn’t sure why he did.

  As if reading his various thoughts, Galyan said, “You must not trouble yourself over these useless concerns. One should only worry about situations he can actively change.”

  “I’m not troubling myself,” Maddox said.

  “I would like to believe you, Captain. But my analyzer’s highest probability is that you just lied to me again.”

  Maddox had heard enough. He unbuckled his straps and rose from his seat. “I’m approaching the hatch,” he said.

  “Your capsule is still pressurized,” Galyan warned.

  “After I depressurize, of course,” Maddox said.

  “In your agitation, did you forget about the pressurization?”

  Without a word, Maddox depressurized the compartment. If he’d opened the hatch before doing so, the capsule’s departing atmosphere would have launched him through the opening like a cannonball.

  “On further review,” the AI said, “I have decided to bring you up on my own initiative. Your sullen behavior—”

  “Galyan,” Maddox said. “You will refrain from such action. Your concern is noted and, in a roundabout way, appreciated.”

  “Will you admit that I am right concerning your mother and that your tainted heritage troubles you?”

  Maddox hesitated a fraction before he said, “You are an Adok. Thus, you don’t realize that you’ve crossed a line. Please do not do so again.”

  “But—”

  “That is all,” Maddox said.

  A ping in his helmet told Maddox it was safe to open the hatch. He waited a half-second before pulling a lever unlocking the wheel. He began to turn it. After the wheel clicked into place, he pushed the hatch, swinging it open and poking his head outside. The Earth spread out below in a glorious panorama. From this height, he noticed the curvature of the planet. Far below him was Europe. If everything went right, he was going to land down there in Normandy.

  The moment reminded him of the emergency landing onto Wolf Prime. That had been an adventure. Recalling it, the captain laughed with exultation. It was good to be alive, even despite the…concern over his identity this new knowledge about the New Men had brought him, and the desire to find his father.

  Maddox did
n’t want to think about those things anymore. He grabbed the edges of the opening and propelled himself out. He dropped from the capsule, the balloon quickly fading from sight.

  This was more than glorious. It felt as if he hung in space, at peace with the world. That was not the truth, though, the hanging, the floating out here. He gained speed as he dropped.

  During the fall, the darkness lessened and he could no longer see the curvature of the Earth. Finally, the sky became normal-colored as he reached denser air.

  He’d assumed a skydiving position, subtly moving his limbs and body to stay that way. The G-meter remained green the entire time, a good sign. If he began to spin, the induced gravity might stop the blood flowing to his head and he’d either pass out or die. He had stabilization chutes for such an event, but so far hadn’t needed to deploy them.

  Checking a gauge, Maddox saw that he was supersonic. Now, he kept a close eye on his height meter.

  “Get ready to deploy your main parachute,” Galyan said shortly.

  “Roger,” Maddox said. He’d been ready to do just that, but had decided to throw the AI a bone and let him feel needed.

  At eighteen hundred meters, with a Normandy plain below, Maddox gripped the deployment handle. At fifteen hundred meters, he pulled it.

  A loud clapping sound and a vicious yank against his shoulders told him the parachute was out. His speed slowed considerably. Soon, he floated toward the ground.

  He spied a road and a French tractor moving on it. Then, he spied an air-car. It didn’t belong to his drop team. That one would have had a red flag on the top. This car skimmed over a wheat field, heading toward his landing area.

  Maddox readied himself. The ground rushed up, and he hit and rolled, with the billowing silk floating down on top of him.

  By the time Maddox climbed out of the silk, the air-car had grounded. A door opened. A uniformed Star Watch officer approached. It was Major Stokes from Intelligence.

  Maddox double-checked. Stokes’ hands were empty, neither of them holding a gun. The captain remembered all too well the time Stokes had tried to murder him in the Greenland prison complex.

  The major halted as his left leg shivered. The man grabbed his left thigh, clutching it for a long moment before finally, almost experimentally, letting go. He resumed his approach, dragging the left leg.

  Maddox found that odd, even a little sinister. He twisted his helmet, detaching it and tossing it to the ground. Afterward, he unzipped the pressurized suit, stepping out of it. The captain was tall and lean, with angularly handsome features.

  The major’s left leg shivered once more, but the man ignored it as he advanced.

  “His movements are odd,” Galyan said in Maddox’s ear.

  Maddox said nothing, watching the approaching major. There was a hole in the left thigh fabric. Had something just happened to Stokes?

  Stokes slowed and took his time pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth and sucked it alight so the tip glowed, while slipping the cigarette pack back into a pocket.

  “I’m here to collect you,” Stokes said as smoke trickled from his mouth.

  “I am analyzing his speech patterns,” Galyan said.

  Maddox wondered why the major smoked a cigarette. Usually, the man smoked a stimstick.

  “The brigadier would like a word with you,” Stokes added.

  “I’m no longer in Intelligence,” Maddox replied.

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, old son. Once you’re in Intelligence, you’re always in Intelligence.”

  “There are Patrol officers who would disagree with you.”

  Stokes’ left leg shivered again, but the major continued to ignore it.

  Uneasy now, Maddox noted that the major wore a sidearm. For once in his life, the captain was unarmed. What could he do about that?

  “It appears you have us in visual,” Maddox sub-vocalized to Galyan.

  “I do,” the AI said.

  “It’s time to test the new sniper beam the Kai-Kaus installed in you. Target the major.”

  “Captain,” Galyan said, “the sniper beam is experimental. While atmospheric conditions are good, you are far too near the target for me to attempt a laser shot.”

  “I accept the risk.”

  “I could as easily hit you as the—Captain, that is not the major. I am seventy-four percent certain you are addressing an android.”

  “So some slipped through our net, eh?” Maddox muttered.

  “Are you well, Captain?” the thing that looked like Stokes asked. “You’re talking to yourself.”

  “Why are you smoking a cigarette?” Maddox asked.

  “I’m downwind of you, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “You misunderstand. Major Stokes smokes stimsticks, not cigarettes. Your programming is off.”

  The two stared at each other. The major’s leg shivered again. Maddox finally noticed a dark substance smeared under the hole.

  “Did someone shoot you in the leg?” the captain asked. “Now, Galyan,” he sub-vocalized. “Shoot it now.”

  “You’ve interfered once too often, Captain,” the pseudo-major said. “This time, you will die.” Without another word, the thing reached for the gun holstered at its side.

  At the same time, a narrow, nearly invisible beam slashed down from Starship Victory high in orbit. It produced a faint haziness in the air. Then, midway between Maddox and the major, a spot of grass the size of a dime curled up, smoked, burst into flame and disappeared as a hole deepened.

  Maddox raised his hands to shield himself from the radiating heat, but that proved futile. So, he threw himself backward, rolling across the ground.

  The pseudo-major shuffled back from the smoking hole. In a blur of movement, he drew the gun and fired—the bullet passing where Maddox had stood a moment before.

  A second faint haziness appeared, burning a new tiny circle of grass and ground. This beam was much closer to Maddox than the first one.

  It caused Maddox to scramble madly across the ground to escape the radiating heat. Behind him, the major fired twice more, the last bullet clipping Maddox’s shoe.

  After the third shot, an invisible beam struck the major’s head. It burned through, turning the head and neck into blue-sparking, molten slag. The android toppled onto the ground, more of its pseudo-flesh melting. A second later, the beam quit.

  Maddox panted from his sprawled position on the ground. The Kai-Kaus chief technician who had told him about the sniper beam had spoken about it in glowing terms. The captain did not want to rely on Galyan’s single-person shooting skills again.

  He heard a whine. Maddox turned as he climbed to his feet. Another air-car flew low over the ground. It was identical to the first one.

  “I will beam it,” Galyan suggested.

  “No!” Maddox said.

  “It’s far enough away so—”

  “No,” Maddox repeated. He glanced at the android’s fallen gun. It looked too hot to pick up yet.

  “I would like to apologize for the first two shots,” Galyan said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Maddox said. “It’s results that count. The thing is incapacitated. Well done, Galyan.”

  “I would like to point out that I warned you about the sniper system—”

  “Let’s concentrate on the issue at hand, shall we?” Maddox said, interrupting. “The air-car is slowing down.”

  “As you wish, Captain,” Galyan said.

  The air-car grounded hard, as if the occupant was in a hurry. The door opened, and out stepped Major Stokes. This one had a gun in his hand.

  “Lower your gun!” Maddox shouted.

  The major hesitated, his gaze taking in the scene. Slowly, he lowered his weapon so it aimed down.

  “Better yet,” Maddox said, “holster your sidearm.”

  “Don’t you trust me, Captain?” Stokes asked.

  Maddox pointed at the smoldering android. “Starship Victory has you in sight, Major. T
he thing over there was a replica of you. Perhaps you can understand my caution.”

  Stokes blinked several times before pitching his sidearm onto the ground.

  “Thank you,” Maddox said.

  Stokes nodded. “It looked like me?” he asked, bewildered.

  “With a gimpy leg,” Maddox said.

  The major absorbed the news. It seemed to take an effort of will for him to collect his thoughts. Finally, he said, “I found your drop team a kilometer from here. They’re all dead, shot in the head. The android must have killed them.”

  Maddox had been afraid of that.

  “It was actually me?” Stokes asked.

  “The last of the androids,” Maddox said.

  “You hope,” Stokes said.

  The two men looked at each other.

  “The brigadier sent me,” Stokes said. “She and the Lord High Admiral wish to speak with you.”

  “Good,” Maddox said, “Because I’d like to speak to them.”

  “We can use my air-car,” Stokes said.

  “Don’t go, Captain,” Galyan said. “This could be an elaborate trap.”

  “Is that your highest probability?” Maddox sub-vocalized to the AI in orbit.

  “No,” Galyan admitted, “but it is a possibility.”

  “I suppose,” Maddox said, “but let’s take the chance, shall we? It could prove interesting.”

  The captain pulled out a cloth, folding it twice as he approached the android’s fallen gun. He gingerly picked up the revolver by the butt. He waved it in the air to cool the metal faster as he hurried to the major’s air-car.

  -3-

  The air-car rapidly gained height as Stokes set the coordinates for Star Watch Headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland.