The Lost Colony (Lost Starship Series Book 4) (13 page)

“This I know.”

“So you lied to me?”

“I practiced disinformation in order to lull Dr. Clifford. Do you think Captain Maddox would have approved of my maneuver?”

For the first time today, Valerie studied Galyan. The slightly bewildered look on her face faded away, replaced by sharp suspicion.

“What have you done now, Galyan?”

“I have been in communication with Sergeant Riker.”

“And?” Valerie asked.

“He is worried about the captain.”

“What has the sergeant up in arms?”

“The holoimage Ludendorff has contacted him.”

“Holoimage? Ludendorff?”

“That is correct,” Galyan said.

Valerie gave the Adok holoimage an even more suspicious stare. She hadn’t gotten along with Captain Maddox in the beginning. She didn’t approve of his methods and she hadn’t altogether trusted him. The Lord High Admiral had similar feelings. After all the small crew of Starship
Victory
had been through and all the times Maddox’s unorthodox methods had saved them, Valerie had learned to trust the captain with her life and reputation. Now, it appeared, something was up again.

“Maybe you’d better start from the beginning,” she told Galyan. “What’s going on?”

The AI gave her a lengthy rundown, including the data concerning Shanghai, the kidnapping androids, the human test Maddox had undergone and now his disappearance.

“Back up just a minute,” Valerie said. “You slipped something in during the story. You said Riker told you to keep watch of Maddox.”

“This is true,” Galyan said.

“You do remember I told you to tell the other person first.”

“Yes, but because of the surprise party—”

“What surprise party?” Valerie asked.

“The one for Captain Maddox,” Galyan said.

Valerie stared at the holoimage. “Don’t you realize that Riker lied to you?”

“I had given that a thirty-nine percent probability. Since the probability of him telling the truth was at forty-seven percent, I chose to believe the sergeant.”

“Well, your forty-seven percent proved wrong.”

“I will add that to my humanity data.”

“Okay, fine,” Valerie said. “But let’s not get sidetracked. Do you know where they took Maddox?”

“He is in an underwater maximum security area where Greenland used to be.”

“That can’t be right,” Valerie said. “What’s left of Greenland is still a radioactive mess. Everyone knows that.”

The lieutenant referred to a planetary bombardment fifty years ago, the key event that caused the creation of the Commonwealth of Planets. Back then, the nations of Terra had fought a hot war, using colony world strength. One side had dropped hell-burners, pulverizing Greenland, making the former mass into a thousand radioactive islands. The outrage led to the first proposals concerning Star Watch as a protective organization.

“Tell me about the underwater facility,” Valerie said.

Galyan waved a holoimage hand. Another holoimage appeared, showing an underwater security complex. The AI pointed out a column that went up into the stratosphere.

“What’s that?” Valerie asked.

“The safe zone,” Galyan said. “Transports going straight down avoid lethal dosages of radiation. The problem is that the zone is constantly watched by the best detection devices Star Watch possesses.”

“Did the captain commit a crime?” Valerie asked.

“Negative,” Galyan said. “Brigadier O’Hara does not want the captain leaving in me to rescue Professor Ludendorff in the Xerxes System.”

“You’d better explain how you know that.”

Galyan did so.

Valerie frowned. “I still don’t understand how you listened in to the brigadier’s conversation to Maddox.”

“I am tracking the captain with my superior surveillance systems. How do you say? It proved to be child’s play.”

“No one likes a braggart, Galyan.”

“Noted,” the AI said. “In the future I will try to refrain from speaking about my greatness.”

“That’s a relief,” Valerie said, rolling her eyes. She put her hands behind her back afterward, staring up at the main screen. Antarctica still showed below.

“We must rescue the captain,” Galyan said.

“And go against a Star Watch directive,” Valerie said. “I don’t think so.”

“We are a family. Is that not so?”

Valerie scowled. “This one is too big for me. I can’t just—”

“Can we please forgo the platitudes to appease your conscience?” Galyan asked. “I know you will see the logic given time.”

“You don’t know anything of the kind,” Valerie said, hotly, beginning to get angry.

“I suggest you gather the others,” Galyan said. “By the time you feel comfortable with the idea—”

“No!”

“Valerie—”

“Surely, you realize the brigadier is watching
Victory
. She may be monitoring your calls with Riker, too.”

“You are correct on both points,” Galyan said. “That is why I made certain those spy devices heard a different conversation than the actual speech.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I can explain, but I am more interested in your change of mind. By your bearing, I see you mean to rescue the captain.”

Valerie’s chest rose and fell. Sometimes, Galyan could be too much. The Adok probability analyzer was spooky in its accuracy.

“I have a question,” Galyan said. “You are the present commander. You now agree with my assessment. Therefore, knowing the brigadier is ready for us to act, how do you suggest we rescue the captain?”

The lieutenant’s scowl intensified. She had been one of the few officers to live through the early encounters with the New Men. Through the years, she had read a hundred tactical manuals on space combat. She knew just about every procedure. She had also been watching Maddox these past years, beginning to appreciate his unorthodox style, how it often caught people by surprise, a valuable military virtue.

Maybe it was time to practice a Maddox maneuver.

“Valerie?” Galyan asked. “Are you well? The look on your face—”

“Let me think, Galyan. I may have an idea. It’s going to be a sneaky one, too.”

“Excellent. Then, you believe the captain is right regarding Ludendorff?”

She did believe that. But it was another thing entirely taking matters into her own hands the way Maddox did all the time. It could ruin her career if she did this. The idea of that left her breathless. Yet, one thing rang clear in her mind. Maddox believed the Ludendorff holoimage. The captain had been right too many times for her to believe he was wrong now. The football analogy had hit home—Galyan had told her of the Maddox-O’Hara conversation. Valerie had watched many football games on the holo-vid with her father before he’d passed away.

With Strand on the loose and Ludendorff locked away, it seemed like it might be time for one more long bomb mission, with
Victory
acting as the football.

-13-

Several days after Galyan and Valerie’s talk on the bridge of the starship, Captain Maddox chafed at his confinement. He’d been finding it increasingly difficult to maintain a stoic indifference. Like a wild beast, cages grated on his psyche. His muscles twitched constantly with an intense desire to explode into action.

It was one thing to lie in wait as a predator. Then, he could show exemplary patience. To be trapped like this, not knowing how long it would last—

Maddox lay on a cot in his room, with his right ankle resting on his left, up-thrust knee. He stared at nothing in particular. He’d grown bored watching movies and could no longer stomach reading an ebook. For several days in a row, he had exhausted himself in exercise. That too paled as he endured lock-up.

Star Watch Marines guarded the prison. By the clangs and strange groans, Maddox had guessed some time ago that the structure was underwater.

Did the Iron Lady believe—?

“Hsst, Captain,” someone whispered from incredibly nearby.

Maddox had been tapping his right foot in the air. That stopped. He lay perfectly still on the cot, not even turning his head.

“Good, good, that’s very good, Captain. Don’t let them know you’re talking to me.”

Maddox forced his brow to smooth out. The whispering voice—it was Ludendorff. Was it possible the alien tech had breached Star Watch’s best security? That made for grave concerns, particularly if the New Men had this technology as well.

“If you can hear me,” the Ludendorff holoimage whispered, “continue to tap your foot in the air.”

Maddox did so.

“Excellent, excellent,” the holoimage said. “We shall continue to communicate like this. You will swing your foot up once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no.’ Do you understand?”

Maddox swung his foot up once.

“As always, you are a quick read, Captain. You may be interested to know that I have spoken to Sergeant Riker twice. He fooled me the first time, as impossible as that is to believe. The second, he told me your family’s plan. Does that sound right to you?”

Maddox indicated yes with his foot.

“Do you know where you are?”

Tap, tap indicated no.

The holoimage Ludendorff explained about the underwater Greenland security complex.

Maddox continued to listen with his eyes unfocused. It had taken Galyan long enough to let the others know what had happened. That had been his hole card the entire time, the ancient alien vessel felt beholden to him for turning the AI back on when everyone else had been for leaving the Adok artificial intelligence off.

The question became this: did Maddox care to buck all of Star Watch? He had pretended to do that once at the brigadier’s orders. This time, it would be the real thing.

As he listened to the invisible holoimage explain the plan, the captain silently debated its possibilities of success. He’d had a growing dread during his confinement. What if the Iron Lady planned to keep him down here indefinitely? Brigadier O’Hara had been his chief supporter among Star Watch. Now that she had done this to him, others might begin a whispering campaign against the hybrid. The brigadier’s actions would show others that she secretly distrusted him—at least that’s how many might take it. Despite everything he had done for Star Watch, those who disliked him would become comfortable again with the idea of placing him under guard at worst or under watch at best.

Maddox knew enough about himself to realize this was partly self-justification and partly hurt feelings on his part. He could not endure the confinement much longer. It was the one thing he truly dreaded: being locked away with nothing useful to do for a long time.

Yes. He would follow his family’s lead. Maybe the brigadier had a point. He didn’t fully trust the Ludendorff holoimage, either. This could be Strand pulling a fast one. Yet, he would rather risk that with a gun in his hand than lying on his back in confinement.

Besides, this was no way to reward his hard work. He had earned more trust than this. The brigadier had gone too far. Unless one actually committed a crime, no one had a right to lock up another, even if the primary reason was love.

There was one little stickler, though. Was he risking humanity by trusting his own judgment?

Maddox sighed. He was willing to take that risk and accept the consequences. To do otherwise was to do damage to his spirit—remaining locked away down here. There was an ancient saying concerning the matter. “It is neither wise nor prudent to go against conscience.” Martin Luther had said that during his trial at Worms when he’d begun the Protestant Reformation.

Maddox’s conscience told him to act, even if against the higher authority over him. Humanity needed Ludendorff and Maddox owed the arrogant Methuselah Man. The captain couldn’t let the professor rot in the Nexus as a prisoner. He realized that now more than ever.

The captain closed his eyes, continuing to listen to the whispering, invisible holoimage.

***

Major Stokes strode down a corridor of the underwater facility. He had come at the brigadier’s command to make sure the captain was doing well.

Her orders confining Maddox had been eating at the Iron Lady. She fretted constantly about the captain and had even developed a nervous tic.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” the brigadier had told Stokes more than once.

“He’s too reckless,” the major had told her.

“It’s one of his charms.”

“No. He’s a rascal, Ma’am, an incorrigible idealist.”

“The captain would not appreciate you saying such a thing.”

“I realize Maddox thinks of himself as hardhearted, yet he’s a romantic of the old school. He thinks of himself as a knight errant, a tarnished one, no doubt.”

“Is that so wrong?” the brigadier had asked.

“In our line of work, most definitely it is,” Stokes had said.

For a time, neither of them had spoken.

“No,” the brigadier had finally said. “He won’t understand. It will chip away at his morale. We’re going to need the captain again.”

“We’ve been lucky with him, Ma’am. One of these days, he’s going to go too far. He’ll pull down anyone associated with him. We’ve seen the type before.”

There had been more along the same line. It hadn’t helped the Iron Lady. She knew Maddox would hold this confinement against her. The captain tried to play the cool Intelligence operative. The hybrid even managed to fool some people. In reality, a fire burned in that one. He would blaze through existence, burning out far too soon.

The major showed his pass to the Marine on guard duty. The Marine nodded, speaking into an intercom. The door buzzed and Stokes entered the surveillance room.

Three individuals watched the various detainees on monitors, Maddox included.

Stokes spoke a few words to them. A woman pointed out Maddox stretched out on his cot.

“How long has he been like that?” Stokes asked.

The woman shrugged. “An hour, maybe,” she said.

Crossing his arms, Stokes watched the captain. Every few seconds the right foot moved. The captain seemed a little too poised. The longer Stokes watched, the more he disliked what he was seeing.

“Has he become listless?” Stokes asked.

She shrugged, her harsh features showing incomprehension.

“Does he seem bored?” Stokes asked.

“No,” she said, “more like stir crazy. He’s not going to last long.”

Stokes cocked his head. “Why do you say that?”

“I know the signs,” she said. “That one doesn’t like prison.”

“Who does?”

“You’d be surprised,” the woman said. “Most criminals have a lazy streak a kilometer long. Not that one, though. He’s going to give us problems soon.”

Stokes continued to watch Maddox. The foot moving began to get to him. He watched the foot more closely: one move, two, one, one, two.

“It’s a code,” Stokes said.

“What’s that?” the woman asked.

“Scan the room,” Stokes said.

“You’re already seeing it,” she told him.

Stokes studied the woman and then Maddox. “Give me sound,” the major said.

“It’s already on.”

“Increase gain,” he said.

The woman gave Stokes a look that suggested he was simple. She must have noticed he was a major, though, because that was all the complaint she made. With several taps, she brought a faint whispering voice to the speaker.

The other two monitors glanced at her. She became more alert. With a tap, she brought the sound to maximum audio.

“After that,” a querulous voice said—a voice that definitely didn’t belong to Maddox—“we’ll use the submersible.”

“Who’s talking to the prisoner?” the woman asked.

“Initiate full lockdown,” Stokes said. “Call security and alert Star Watch. Captain Maddox is about to attempt a prison break.”

“Don’t worry about him,” the woman said. “Gas will do the trick.”

“Gas?” asked Stokes.

“It will put him to sleep like a baby,” the woman said, while tapping another control.