The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9) Page 8

  Taking a calming breath, Maddox removed the metal band from Meta’s head and peeled the adhesives from her body.

  Her recovery process took longer, as she sat there as one unconscious and barely breathing. In a moment, though, her eyes flew open and she looked about in stark fear.

  “It’s me, Meta,” Maddox said gently. “I’m right here. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  Her mouth worked but no sound came out. Her eyes finally locked with his. Then she slumped weeping into his arms, although the longer she held him, the tighter and stronger her grip became until it was nearly bone crushing.

  “Where are we, sir?” Riker asked.

  Maddox twisted around as Meta clung to him. The sergeant appeared to have remained in one spot, although he now stood upright and he seemed saner than before. The question was weird, as the sergeant should know.

  “Where do you think we are?” Maddox asked.

  Riker shook his head.

  “Look around,” Maddox suggested.

  Riker did in a perfunctory manner, but that seemed to have no effect on his memory.

  “Usan III,” Maddox said.

  “Where’s that?” the sergeant growled.

  A sense of unease shot through Maddox. Was this mere disorientation or something worse?

  “We’re in Nerva Corp Tower,” Maddox said. “You must start thinking, Sergeant. It is imperative. Meta’s life may be forfeit if you cannot.”

  “I think I understand,” Riker said, although it still didn’t seem like it as he continued to stand wearing a vacant expression.

  “Sergeant!”

  “Sir?”

  “Think! Use that head of yours. Figure out what’s going on, or are you too stupid of an old coot to do anything right?”

  Riker scowled, and he began looking around, noticing the machine, the empty combat suit—and that he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

  “This is ridiculous,” the sergeant complained. “Why did they strip me?”

  The question mollified Maddox a bit. “Who are ‘they,’ Sergeant? Quick. Tell me.”

  “Nerva Corp people, I suppose. You said this was Usan III. Sir,” Riker said, with understanding lighting his eyes. “An android blew up outside the casino. Marines brought us in here. Spacers, sir, Spacers removed my clothes and hooked me to that infernal contraption.”

  “Right,” Maddox said. “Now look over there, Sergeant. I see a pile of rags and some footwear. Maybe your garments lie there.”

  “And red bra and panties,” Riker said, eyeing the pile dubiously. “I hope I wasn’t wearing those.”

  Maddox didn’t answer, as Riker had his senses back. The sergeant could take care of himself for a while. The captain concentrated on Meta as he brushed his wife’s blonde head and made soothing sounds.

  Riker had headed for the clothes. The sergeant stopped, surprise twisting his leathery features as he looked back at the captain. Perhaps Riker had never expected Maddox to make such sounds for anyone, not even his wife.

  With a shrug as he muttered softly, Riker went to the pile, picking up smelly garments, making a face as he did. Soon enough, he began to don worn out garments.

  “I need a weapon,” Riker said.

  “Look around for one,” Maddox said.

  The annoyance in his voice made Meta whimper, and she gripped him even more strongly than previously.

  The captain found it hard to breathe. Meta was stronger than most men born on a regular G world. With care, he peeled her fierce grip from him, held her shoulders and peered intently into her eyes.

  “Meta? Can you hear me?”

  It took several seconds until she whispered, “Yes.”

  “I need you focused. Can you focus?”

  “My head hurts,” she complained.

  “I know. You…you had an accident.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s right,” Maddox said. “Once we’re upstairs—”

  “Where?” she asked, interrupting him.

  “In orbit,” he said. “We’re on Usan III in the Nerva Corp Tower.”

  “Oh. Yes. I’m beginning to remember.”

  “That’s good. Everything is going to be better soon. You have to focus first. I want you to focus.”

  Even more awareness came into Meta’s green eyes. She glanced shyly at the hideous brain machine, shivered and looked up at him. “Maddox?”

  “Don’t think too much,” he warned. “We have to get you dressed. Then we’re leaving this place.”

  “What do you mean dressed?”

  Maddox twisted around so she couldn’t see the worry on his face. It was as he feared. A so-called Teacher on a New Man star cruiser had once altered Meta’s thinking. It had left mental scars and may have made her more susceptible to these kinds of mind manipulations. Doctor Dana Rich had helped heal Meta that time. Might this experience cause a relapse? Maddox wanted to do everything he could to make sure that didn’t happen.

  They needed to get off Usan III fast. That meant getting out of Nerva Corp Tower.

  “Riker,” Maddox said.

  The sergeant looked up from where he’d been searching.

  “There should be weapons outside the room down the hall. You’ll find two dead Spacers—”

  Riker swore vilely, finishing with “Spacers!” Was the sergeant working himself into a rage?

  “We don’t have time for recriminations, Sergeant. We’re on a timer. If we can’t get out of here in time, everything we know is over.”

  That did the trick. “Sir?” Riker asked. “Isn’t that a bit melodramatic?”

  “Perhaps. Now get a move-on, Sergeant. We’ll be out there shortly. Oh, and grab a projac for Meta, too.”

  Riker nodded, hurrying out of the chamber.

  Maddox found Meta staring at the chairs where Riker and she had been hooked to the machine.

  “Snap out of it, love,” Maddox said gently.

  Meta whirled around, and there was terror in her eyes.

  Maddox had to clamp down on his own anger against the Spacers. They had messed with his wife. He was going to make them pay for that. He’d already made them pay by taking out two of their prime operatives on Usan III. Letting his anger loose now wasn’t going to help, though.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I’m naked.”

  “Put those on.” He pointed at the bra and panties and then shrugged off his jacket, handing it to her.

  Meta stared at him and finally took a deep breath. She nodded, took the jacket and hurried to the pile. She slipped on the bright red bra and panties and then put on his jacket. It reached down to her mid-thighs like a dress but the sleeves were too long for her arms. She began rolling those up.

  Maddox stepped to the empty armor suit. They might need it in case enemy guards showed up. As the captain slid into the suit, shoving his arms and legs into the right places, he wondered if he should have Meta and Riker climb into the other combat suits.

  Even as Maddox thought that, he rejected the idea. They both seemed to have regained their wits. But could he be one hundred percent sure about their mental states? The short answer was no.

  The locks snapped shut and he powered up the armor. Meta whirled around in terror.

  “It’s me,” Maddox said.

  She began shivering.

  The faceplate whirred down. “Meta,” he said. “It’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.”

  She saw his face and nodded.

  “Keep behind me,” he said. “We’re getting out of here.”

  “To go upstairs?” she asked.

  “Right. Do you want a weapon?”

  “Yes,” she said, some of the old Meta surfacing at the idea.

  They found Riker down the hall riffling the dead Spacers, their gory bodies on the floor. The sergeant gave Meta one of the projacs.

  Her shoulders straightened and she grinned tightly up at Maddox.

  “Listen,” Maddox said. “I want you to keep those out of sight.
Put them in a pocket. I’m going to herd you as if I’m a guard taking you somewhere. Maybe that way we can pass unnoticed. Meta, I’m going to have to close the visor.”

  She raised the projac. “I’m feeling better. That’s okay.”

  He waited. She put hers in a jacket pocket. Riker hid his weapon too.

  It proved to be a wasted ruse, however. Soon enough, Maddox in the suit herded them past uncaring Nerva Corp people. None of them even gave them a glance.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Meta finally asked.

  “Maybe they all went under the same machine you did,” Maddox said through a helmet speaker.

  Meta cast him a worried look. Riker spat angrily on the floor.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Maddox said. “They’re zombies. They’re going to leave us alone.”

  Meta visibly gulped but kept going.

  Soon, they came to a set of stairs. That was what Maddox had been looking for. He wanted to get to the roof but no longer trusted the elevators.

  “Kind of small for your marine suit,” Riker said.

  Maddox had come to the same conclusion and was already undoing the locks. In moments, he wriggled free of the armor, taking a heavy gun from a leg compartment for just these kinds of space marine emergencies. He rummaged around and found extra magazines.

  Once sure the gun was loaded, he told the others, “This is a sprint. That means speed is critical. Sergeant, you will make sure that Meta keeps up with you.”

  “Who’s going to make sure I keep up?” Riker muttered.

  “That’s the spirit,” Maddox said. “I’ll scout ahead. I expect the two of you to appear on the roof shortly. Don’t disappoint me, Sergeant.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” Riker said.

  “Maddox,” Meta called fearfully.

  He turned around, already five steps higher than the two of them.

  “Don’t leave me,” Meta pleaded. “I’m frightened.”

  He didn’t want to leave her, but he felt as if he didn’t have a choice. “You’re not really frightened,” he said. “That’s from the brain machine. The people here should be frightened of you.”

  She looked at him in a way that suggested disbelief.

  “Keep up, darling. You must hurry.”

  “Maddox—”

  He did not wait to listen anymore, but turned forward again and charged up the stairs at a blistering rate. Speed, he needed speed. And at a time like this, none of the other Star Watch agents could keep up with him. He bounded faster and faster, taking four and five steps at a time. The toll made him pant, but he refused to admit that he had a physical limit. The enemy had harmed his wife. The enemy had fiddled with the sergeant’s mind.

  “Focus,” Maddox panted.

  He was already on the fourth flight of stairs. Maddox wasn’t sure why, but he had a terrible sense that he was already too late. The Spacers wouldn’t go down that easily. He couldn’t have slain all of them, right? If he had, the Nerva Corp people would likely wake up. They might prove dangerous as well.

  Incredibly, Maddox bounded faster yet, reaching the last set of stairs. Maybe they should have headed for the spaceport and stolen a shuttle. Did he even know if there was an air-car parked up here on the tower landing-pad?

  He didn’t bother shaking his head, deciding to burn out negative thoughts. He was going to find out soon enough.

  Maddox burst through the roof door, looking around wildly. Three people ran for the air-car parked at the center of the roof. The larger than normal air-car was already whining, obviously ready to take flight.

  Without hesitation—in a rather brutal display of Star Watch Intelligence need—Maddox opened fire. The heavy gun kicked in his hand, the bullets taking down the three before any of them had a chance to surrender or fire back.

  As the three pitched to the roof, Maddox noted their Nerva Corp uniforms and regular size. Those weren’t Spacers. Could he have made a deal with them or learned more about the Spacers?

  That was immaterial at this point.

  Maddox sprinted for the air-car. Would it lift off? Would the pilot have seen what happened?

  Maddox lowered his head so he could run faster, passing the dead Nerva Corp people. He almost sobbed with the effort. At last, he scrambled through the side-hatch, staring intently at the piloting seat with the gun ready to fire.

  The seat was empty.

  “Thank, God,” he whispered.

  Maddox hurried forward as sweat dripped from his face. He checked each compartment, and they were indeed empty. He also threw open a closet; no one hid there. Finally, he settled behind the piloting board. The air-car had a two-seater forward control area and six side-by-side seats in the passenger compartment.

  Maddox checked controls, fuel, status—

  He whirled around with an aimed gun, having heard a noise. Meta climbed aboard. Riker scrambled in next, closing the hatch behind him.

  “We made it,” Riker panted.

  Maddox nodded, turning back to the controls. “Strap in,” he called.

  Meta slid in beside him in the navigator’s spot, clicking the restraints. Riker sat in the passenger compartment, collapsing into a seat, but remembering to buckle in.

  Maddox shifted the controls as the whining increased. The air-car responded smoothly as it lifted off the pad.

  “What now?” Meta said.

  “Up we go,” Maddox said. He aimed the nose upward as they tilted back, and he gave the air-car more power. They began moving upward, gaining speed.

  “Maddox,” Meta shouted. “What’s that blinking red light?”

  Maddox leaned over toward her as he checked her panel. His shoulders deflated for just a moment.

  “Is that a radar lock-on signal?” Meta asked him.

  “Yes,” Maddox said. “The spaceport’s SAM site has a fix on us.”

  SAM stood for surface to air missile.

  The comm squawked, and the spaceport operator demanded that Maddox identify himself.

  The captain hesitated only a moment before switching on the small screen. He stared into the goggled face of yet another Spacer woman. He hadn’t killed them all—yet. Had he been wrong about slaying both first class surveyors? Could this be Mako 21, or was this another ranking Spacer?

  “I don’t think so, Captain Maddox,” the Spacer told him. “This time, you are not going to escape us.”

  -15-

  “You must land immediately,” the Spacer woman said, “or I shall launch an interceptor and destroy your craft.”

  She meant an Interceptor-class missile. From what Maddox had been able to discern regarding the air-car, he did not possess the weaponry or the electronics to stop or evade such a missile. Likely, the woman knew that just as well as he did. How could he use that?

  “You leave me no other choice,” Maddox said reflexively, having made his decision. “I am initiating the landing sequence.”

  He glanced at Meta, winking at her, hoping she understood.

  Meta leaned forward, working her panel. She glanced sharply at him, nodding. She let him know by the nod that she understood and could do as he wished.

  Maddox checked his board. The Spacer hadn’t yet launched the interceptor. That meant the woman likely told the truth about wanting them to land. Good. This might work then.

  Maddox did not intend to do what he had just said he would do. Instead, he banked sharply, turning the air-car away from the spaceport and the SAM installation. He did not intend to land anywhere that the enemy could capture them.

  The reaction did not take long.

  “What are you doing?” the Spacer demanded.

  “Trying to land,” Maddox told her. “Are you sabotaging my controls so I can’t do that?”

  “What?” the Spacer asked. “No. We are doing nothing to the air-car.”

  “Someone sure is,” Maddox said. “If it’s you, please admit it. I want to land.”

  “Captain Maddox, you are banking hard away from the spaceport. You�
��re trying to escape.”

  “Untrue. I’m trying to land.”

  “This is official. I order you to land.”

  “Yes, yes,” he shouted at the operator. “What do you think I’m trying to do? What’s wrong with you? Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Captain—”

  Maddox flipped a switch. Afterburners kicked in, pressing him against his seat. Meta also flattened against her seat as the air-car built up speed, roaring over the deck of the sandy surface. The craft began shaking from the strain.

  “Keep this up and you’ll clog the intakes,” Meta shouted.

  “Is this a not-so-subtle form of subterfuge?” the Spacer asked over the small comm screen. “If true, you will fail, Captain. I need merely launch the interceptor. It will easily demolish your air-car. You have no hope.”

  “Are you in line-of-sight yet?” Maddox asked Meta.

  Meta shook her head.

  “Line-of-sight, Captain?” the Spacer asked with a sneer. “Do you really think we came to Usan III as indigents and tramps? We are the Spacers. We have learned from our past mistakes. We are not like you territorial-bound humans who refuse to admit an error. We study and learn. That is how we have become so powerful in only a few hundred years.”

  “I stand in awe of your abilities,” Maddox said.

  “I have read your brief, Captain. I know about your predilections. You have been attempting to buy time while you line up for a long-range message burst to Starship Victory. Oh, yes, I am well aware of the starship’s location behind Usan VI. What you don’t know is that we are blanketing the planet with a jamming signal. You will send no messages to your Adok Death Vessel, haunted by a nefarious computer entity.”

  “Are you talking about the AI Galyan perhaps?” Maddox asked. He glanced questioningly at Meta.

  “Got it,” Meta whispered. She tapped the message screen and pressed a tab. A message pulse beamed toward Victory, leaving the air-car to travel halfway across the Usan System.

  “How pathetic,” the Spacer operator said over the comm line. “You do realize that the message failed to leave Usan III?”

  Meta tapped the comm panel and looked up with alarm. “I think the Spacer is right,” she whispered. “I detect heavy jamming. It’s blanketing everything. I doubt the message-burst left orbit.”