The Lost Planet (Lost Starship Series Book 6) Read online

  “Was there anything else?” Maddox asked.

  “I will relay your message to the lieutenant that you are on your way.”

  “I’m almost there anyway,” Maddox said. “We’ll enter the bridge together.”

  “Yes, sir,” Galyan said, as if the idea pleased him.

  -12-

  Maddox stood on the bridge, studying the main screen.

  They were halfway through the Ulant System, heading to a jump point near a supergiant red star. There were two terrestrial planets in the system and one vast super-Jupiter almost half a light-year out. Between the super-Jupiter and the inner terrestrial planet was a mass of debris. It wasn’t an asteroid belt exactly, as the dust, rocks and planetoids covered a vast region of space, approximately a Mars-like orbit to a Pluto-like orbit. In that region of space was enough debris to make up the mass of the Solar System’s Sun.

  This meant that Victory had to travel with the shield powered at full strength. The shield was presently a dim red color. The majority of the shield-damage came from constant dust and occasional space pebbles.

  “If I bet the way Keith does while on shore leave,” Lieutenant Noonan said, “I’d wager that the Spacer vessel believes we can’t see them through all the debris.”

  Valerie Noonan had long brunette hair, a taut body and the most professional air of any officer aboard Victory. She knew all the regulations, followed them closely, and she’d worked harder than anyone else to join Star Watch.

  “We are using an Adok scanning technique,” Galyan said. “It is based on the refraction principle coupled with—”

  “It’s impressive is what it is,” Maddox said, interrupting, sparing them from an extended technical explanation. “How long have they been ghosting us?” he asked the lieutenant.

  “I noticed the ship ten minutes ago,” Valerie said from her location. “We’ve been in the system for five hours, though. I suspect they’ve had us under observation since we arrived. Shall I order a change in heading, sir?”

  Maddox did not respond immediately. He put his hands behind his back as he studied the image out there. The Spacer vessel—if it was the Spacers, which seemed reasonable—was a mere dot near the super-Jupiter. It really was remarkable that the sensors had been able to spot it. Adok technology continued to surprise them in good ways.

  “Are we scanning in all directions?” Maddox asked.

  “Affirmative, sir,” Valerie said. “As far as I can tell, there are no mines, no hidden drones, nothing else around us that could endanger the starship. I doubt that the ship back there can harm us in the foreseeable future.”

  “It could simply be an observation vessel and nothing more,” Galyan suggested.

  “Could be, but I doubt it,” Maddox said. “Not with a Spacer spy killing himself to hide something aboard the ship.” He wondered why the enemy vessel remained near the super-Jupiter. “We have a decision to make,” he said finally. “Do we turn around and confront the possible Spacer ship to ascertain its motives, or do we employ our star drive to leave it in the dust?”

  “Are you asking my opinion, sir?” Valerie asked.

  “I am, Lieutenant.”

  Valerie sat a little straighter, biting her lower lip. “It would be good to know who they are, sir. The suicidal spy is troubling. Combined with that vessel in the star system—”

  “Yes…?” Maddox said.

  Valerie continued to chew on her lower lip.

  “Sir,” Galyan said. “I have intercepted a transmission. It is garbled—Sir! The transmission originates from the enemy starship and it is in code. A moment please, yes, it is a machine code of some kind.”

  “Does it strike you as a Spacer or an android code?” Maddox asked.

  “My analysis…android,” Galyan said.

  Valerie looked up sharply. “Are you thinking what I am, sir?”

  “That the so-called Spacer suicide was an android plant to misdirect us?” Maddox asked.

  Valerie nodded.

  “It has crossed my mind,” Maddox said. “Yet, the corpse was definitely that of a Spacer. Now, though, I’m reevaluating the reason the spy directed his transduction abilities at my mind. I wonder if he did it precisely to agitate me. I believe he wanted me to hunt for him.”

  “So you’d find him?” Valerie asked.

  “Exactly,” Maddox said. “It’s possible someone programmed him to run and kill himself before we could question him. His suicide would clinch our certainty regarding Spacer interference.”

  “Including causing us to believe that was a Spacer vessel out there?” Valerie asked. “On the off-chance that we spotted them.”

  “What do you think of my analysis, Galyan?” Maddox asked.

  “It strikes me as too elaborate,” the holoimage said. “This last message seems sloppy on their part.”

  “Did you detect it easily?” Maddox asked.

  “No, sir,” Galyan said. “I have been employing every safeguard. Otherwise…otherwise, I would have missed it.” The holoimage appeared thoughtful. “Captain, if you are interested in my suggestion…”

  “Let’s hear it,” Maddox said.

  “We should investigate the starship,” Galyan said. “I believe it has become imperative.”

  Maddox’s grip tightened behind his back. He continued to study the super-Jupiter and the dot of a sensor ping. The system contained more dust than any place he’d ever been. Clearly, there was a mystery in play. He believed his adversary out there was subtle and dangerous. In some fashion, his adversary knew he had left on an important mission. Could the person or persons know the nature of the mission?

  It would be wise to believe they did. Who would be most likely to know about the Junkyard Planet? Hmm…in this case, androids or Spacers were just as likely. Although, if he had to make a choice, he believed the androids would know more than the Spacers would, as the androids had been around longer.

  “Galyan, can you set up a decoy reflection?” Maddox asked.

  “A sensor ghost?” the holoimage asked.

  Maddox waited for an answer.

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “Yes, sir, I can do it. But it will take an hour before I’m ready.”

  “An hour will be sufficient,” Maddox said.

  “May I ask what you’re planning, sir?” Valerie asked.

  “I suspect our adversary wants us to investigate that starship,” Maddox said. “I think there’s a reason why it has remained so close to the super-Jupiter. I don’t trust this star system. I don’t trust the suicidal Spacer. If he had the ability of transduction, why did he kill himself so soon? He could have waited to do it.”

  “He must have panicked,” Valerie said. “People do that, you know.”

  Maddox fixated on the distant sensor ping. “We’re going to give them something to do for a time, something to watch. While they sit there, we will slip away.”

  “To come in behind them?” Valerie asked.

  Maddox shook his head. “We will travel far and fast, Lieutenant. I have a…suspicion, if you will. We must get to the Junkyard Planet as soon as we can. And that is exactly what I plan to do.”

  -13-

  Aboard the Star Cruiser Argo, Strand paced in agitation. The Methuselah Man was in the modification chamber, muttering to himself as he studied the latest readings.

  He was not sure, no, not sure at all.

  Strand tapped a board, made adjustments and looked up. A tall glass cylinder silently moved into position. Inside the cylinder was a wide-eyed Dem Darius, with electrodes attached to his shaven scalp and to his golden-skinned and quite nude body.

  Strand had begun his newest plan. It was daring and would take masterful execution. Certainly, he was up to the task, though. He was determined to find out whether his New Men were secretly fomenting rebellion and whether Darius was the chief of the rebels.

  “Are you frightened?” Strand asked the New Man.

  Inside the cylinder, Darius breathed rapidly. He wore the appearance of f
ear, and he manfully attempted to control it. Sweat shined on his golden skin and several of his muscles twitched at odd moments.

  Darius was tall and slender, but despite his leanness, his muscles looked like steel cables when they twitched. He was stronger than a champion power-lifter from Earth. That was because Darius was modeled on perfection, not on the mongrel sub-men infesting most of Human Space.

  Strand tapped the panel. The cylinder slid into a giant slot and power energized the electrodes.

  Darius groaned as he twitched more visibly, and drool slid from his compressed lips. The level of pain needed to cause a New Man to do that was intense.

  “I will ask you a series of questions,” Strand said casually. “You will answer quickly and without hesitation.”

  “Yes, Master,” Darius whispered.

  “Are you a Dominant?”

  Darius stared at Strand. He almost seemed reluctant as he said, “Yes.”

  “Do you possess leadership capabilities?”

  Again, there was hesitation before he answered, “I do.”

  “Are you superior to most New Men?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was your highest achievement?”

  “I fought to the Second Level.”

  Strand made a notation on a slate. He had thought it had been to the Third Level. Darius was even more of a prize than he’d realized.

  “Who do you serve?” the Methuselah Man asked.

  There was a momentary hesitation before Darius hissed, “Excellence and mastery.”

  “Ah…” Strand said. He had not foreseen this. The Dominant had betrayed himself. “You serve excellence?”

  “I strive to achieve.”

  “And what is it that you wish to achieve?”

  “Mmmmmm,” Darius said. It seemed as if the New Man resisted himself, as if his lips would answer but his will struggled to remain silent.

  “Please,” Strand said. “Complete your thought. What is it you wish to achieve?”

  Darius began to blink, and he appeared shocked.

  Strand believed he knew why. The New Man must finally realize that he had breathed Reveal, a cocktail of chemicals that induced the breather to speak the truth, as he knew it. It seemed probable Darius had hoped to keep these beliefs to himself.

  “What do you hope to achieve?” Strand asked.

  “Mastery, Master.”

  “I am the master.”

  Darius said nothing, although it seemed he fought his fear.

  “Do you refute the statement that I am the master?”

  “No,” Darius whispered.

  “Why did you not speak my title as you said that?”

  “No, Master,” Darius said.

  “Do you enjoy naming me the master?”

  “It is not a matter of joy, but of fact.”

  “Tell me, then, how can a servant achieve mastery? Do you remember? You said you wanted mastery. Yet, I am the master.”

  “It is a conundrum,” Darius said, as beads of sweat appeared on his scalp.

  Strand found this interesting. He could see why Darius had achieved the Second Level. The New Man had a stubborn will indeed. Strand had never dealt with a Second Level New Man aboard the Argo.

  “Doesn’t one need freedom to achieve mastery?” the Methuselah Man asked.

  “Most likely that is true, Master.”

  “It is certainly true, you mean?”

  Darius did not speak.

  Strand made another notation on his slate. Afterward, he tapped the stylus against his front teeth. “Are you attempting to gain freedom?”

  “I would…” Darius’s shoulders tightened, “appreciate freedom.”

  “Are you attempting to gain it?”

  “I am your servant…Master.”

  “You are attempting to divert,” Strand said. “Do you not realize that reveals your inner heart?”

  “It is possible.”

  Strand made a third notation. Darius’s answers had stunned him. The New Man had incredible inner resources. Where did he find the willpower to answer like this?

  “It is more than possible,” Strand said. “It is a fact. You are in secret rebellion against me.”

  Darius began to hyperventilate.

  No, this would not do. Strand tapped a red dot on his panel.

  Power energized Darius’s pain sensors. The lean superman twisted in the glass cylinder. He clamped his lips together, but the raw sensations proved too much for him. He groaned like a deeply wounded animal. The groan grew until Darius howled, a nakedly animalistic sound.

  Strand nodded as he listened to the noise. “Now, let us adjust your mental settings, eh.”

  It seemed unlikely that Darius even heard the Methuselah Man. The New Man howled and his eyes bulged. Mucus flowed from his nostrils and still he howled, the noise becoming hoarse.

  Strand manipulated his board as he rerouted the obedience fibers in the subject’s brain. The pain Darius felt flowed deep into his memory. It would act as a leash on the rebellion. This Strand knew from previous experiments.

  Finally, Strand tapped a green dot.

  Inside the cylinder, Darius gasped as sweat rolled off his limp legs and pooled around his feet.

  “What is your primary goal in life?” Strand asked quietly.

  “Obedience to you, Master,” Darius said in a raspy voice.

  “Do you wish to make a confession?”

  Darius stared at Strand for only a moment. The New Man dropped his gaze, and he managed a bare nod.

  “I have striven for free thought,” Darius whispered hoarsely. “I have also plotted to become the best of your bridge crew.”

  “Why did you wish this?”

  “For two reasons,” Darius whispered. “One, I wished…”

  “Continue, as you have not finished your thought.”

  “I wished to be the best Dominant aboard the Argo.”

  “That was your first desire?” Strand asked.

  “It was, Master.”

  “And the second? Tell me about that.”

  “I desired to become indispensable. In this way, I believed you would give me certain allowances. In time, I believed, I could use the allowances to gain my freedom.”

  “That was a clever plan.”

  Darius did not respond.

  “You are my highest achieving New Man. Perhaps there is a lesson for me in your striving. I may adjust you further so that you continue to strive for excellence. You will now do so, though, because you love serving me. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Do you love serving me?”

  Darius rubbed the back of his neck.

  Strand knew it was a sign that the New Man attempted to lie. That was amazing at this point. It showed a fantastically stubborn will. That was both good and bad. A wise master would seek to harness such a will.

  Strand rubbed his leathery hands together. Dem Darius could potentially become his masterwork. It would take more time in the cylinder, of course. It would be delicate work, and it could destroy the New Man’s brain if done incorrectly. But that was a risk Strand was willing to take.

  “Do you still desire to be the best?” Strand asked.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “You want to be the best with every fiber in your being?”

  Darius nodded.

  “I am glad to hear it,” Strand said. “It means that you will employ that stubborn will of yours to survive what is to come.”

  A shadow of fear marred Darius’s perfect features.

  “Do you understand that you have agreed to further retraining?”

  “I did not realize,” Darius whispered.

  “Knowing this, are you still willing to be first?”

  Darius hesitated only a second before he said, “Yes.”

  “The results, then, are on your head,” Strand said. “Your ambition has brought this about. Remember that when you desire death to end the unbearable pain you will have to endure.”
/>   Strand began manipulating his panel. Thus, he failed to see the momentary blaze of hatred shine in Darius’s eyes. It lasted only a second. Then, raw agony broke the concentration as the two entered into a more painful and intimate relationship of master inflicting pain to mold his chosen slave.

  -14-

  Back aboard Starship Victory, Valerie squared off against Keith in Rec Room 3. Valerie was wearing tight-fitting training gear, with her hair bundled under a soft padded helmet. Keith was barefoot and wearing an old-style karate Gi, which looked slightly ridiculous.

  A few others trained nearby, but each group left the others alone. A few thumps and grunts sounded occasionally while bare feet shuffled against the floor padding.

  It had been three weeks since the captain had slipped away from the mysterious starship in orbit around the super-Jupiter gas giant. That had been in the Ulant System. Since then, Victory had raced through the Beyond, straining to reach Ludendorff’s find.

  As Valerie shifted her stance, she realized she hadn’t seen the professor much this voyage. He seemed to be keeping to himself more than usual. Did that portend anything ominous?

  Valerie had a sneaking suspicion that it just might. She didn’t trust the professor. She never had. The Methuselah Man was too self-centered and arrogant. The captain could be arrogant, too, but she had come to believe that had as much to do with his New Man heritage as having to go it alone most of his life. The captain’s arrogance was psychological armor against a hostile universe.

  Valerie could relate to that. She’d been a loner for a long time, too. That had made it particularly hard in the Space Academy.

  “What’s wrong?” Keith asked, with his grin slipping.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re scowling.”

  “Oh. It’s nothing. Are you ready?”

  “I’m going to flip you onto your back, love,” he said, the grin returning full force. “You know that, right?”

  Valerie grinned back at him.

  She liked practicing close-quarter combat with Keith because they were almost the same height. Keith weighed more, and he was stronger and quite a bit quicker. She’d been astonished on more than one occasion at his speed. His hand speed might even rival the captain’s reflexes. Maybe that’s what made Keith such a deadly jumpfighter pilot.