The Lost Barrier
Author: Vaughn Heppner
Date: 2021-11-29 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction
Description: At Omicron 9, Professor Ludendorff unearthed artifacts of the fabled Old Ones. During a meeting in a subterranean chamber, a portal appeared and aliens attacked, perhaps to kidnap the professor or grab the artifacts. Maddox’s new intuitive sense gave him just enough warning. He saved Ludendorff and rushed into the portal to forestall any more assaults—and thus began his lonely odyssey from one strange place to another. Maddox eventually found a Builder potential unit, and they resolved to work together. But the unit betrayed him and then Victory, taking them to a system where Maddox had alread

SF Books by Vaughn Heppner

THE SOLDIER SERIES:

The X-Ship

Escape Vector

Final Odyssey

THE A.I. SERIES:

A.I. Destroyer

The A.I. Gene

A.I. Assault

A.I. Battle Station

A.I. Battle Fleet

A.I. Void Ship

A.I. Rescue

A.I. Armada

LOST STARSHIP SERIES:

The Lost Starship

The Lost Command

The Lost Destroyer

The Lost Colony

The Lost Patrol

The Lost Planet

The Lost Earth

The Lost Artifact

The Lost Star Gate

The Lost Supernova

The Lost Swarm

The Lost Intelligence

The Lost Tech

The Lost Secret

The Lost Barrier

Visit VaughnHeppner.com for more information

The Lost Barrier

(Lost Starship Series 15)

by Vaughn Heppner

Illustration © Tom Edwards

TomEdwardsDesign.com

Copyright © 2021 by the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

-1-

In retrospect, Captain Maddox should have been more cautious. Maybe boredom got the better of him. Maybe Meta’s occasional suggestion that he find a safer line of work—now that they had a little baby girl in the house—had started to constrict his sense of freedom.

The house was in Kauai, belonging to the Hawaiian Island chain, the Garden Isle. It was peaceful, idyllic, really. Maddox had gone surfing every morning and then paddle boarding in the late afternoon before he hit the local gym. The rougher the waves were in the afternoon, the better he liked it.

The Lord High Admiral had given him a leave of absence because of little Jewel Maddox. She was amazing, stunningly beautiful, and had done something to the captain’s heart he hadn’t quite expected. When the tiny infant girl had clutched the little finger of his right hand—

Maddox had stared at her in wonderment and could feel his heart thudding. If anyone tried to hurt his Jewel—he named her in that moment—he would kill them, or at least give him a beating he would remember for the rest of his life. A new sense of parenthood swept into the captain. He was the father, the protector of the family, the breadwinner in the oldest and best sense of the word. He would take a bullet for Jewel, for Meta, too. That he knew without question.

Maddox felt he understood his own late father better, finding greater kinship with him as he held his girl.

“I’m Jewel’s father. She’s my darling.”

The love and pride he already felt because of Jewel—anything she did was the best. Riker had studied the captain when he came to visit as Maddox could seem to speak of nothing else. Mary O’Hara, Jewel’s great grandmother, smiled as her grandson rhapsodized about his baby girl.

Now and then Meta half-jokingly suggested he find something else to do than captain the greatest starship in Star Watch. His missions were riskier than hell, right? One of these times, he wouldn’t be coming home. What would Jewel do without her father? Besides, if he were gone too long on one of his crazier missions, he’d miss the wonder of her growing up.

Maddox had listened in silence the first few times Meta made the suggestion. Then, he’d finally said that his job was to protect Jewel. That meant more than just in the house and at school. That meant humanity’s place in the galaxy. He had unique gifts and abilities. He wasn’t going to run away from that on a false notion—

Maddox had ceased his explanation as a single tear slid down one of Meta’s cheeks. He knew enough about being a husband that he sat beside her and held her tight, kissing her after a time and reassuring Meta he loved her. It occurred to him that Jewel had changed Meta as well, maybe even more than it had him. The former assassin and bodyguard had indeed become a mother.

“You’ll think about a new position then?” Meta asked quietly.

Despite his newfound understanding, heat rose in Maddox. He didn’t know it, but his features hardened.

Meta searched his face. “You have to think about Jewel.”

Maddox nodded, but he remained silent. A slight tightening around his heart—in a bad way—really started at that moment.

It took Maddox several weeks to understand what the tightening meant. He would never become a desk jockey. He would never become a supply officer or anything similar. He was a fighting man. He was the di-far. He had a new intuitive sense, created by Balron the Traveler. And he believed what he told Meta. His job was out in the stars, protecting the Commonwealth of Planets from all comers. In that way, he would protect his little Jewel, his precious baby girl.

So, when Professor Ludendorff sent a message via the Iron Lady: Do you mind helping me test my latest project? I need someone with high survival instincts. And you seem like the perfect tester. Maddox agreed in an instant.

The next day, he told Meta he had to go off-planet for a few days.

“To do what?” Meta asked.

“Help Ludendorff.”

“Isn’t he at the latest nexus, the one at Omicron Nine?”

“Yes.”

Meta stared at him. “That’s almost three hundred light-years away,” said as her voice rose.

Maddox shrugged. “It’s only a few hours away, less than an hour, really. You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

“You’ll be going through a nexus, two of them if you count the one to come back.”

Maddox shook his head. “It’s only the time that matters, not the distance.”

Maybe Meta had already begun to sense the tightening around her husband’s heart. She still had her assassin’s instincts. Love for him surely battled against her surging mother-bear fears.

“Fine. If that’s what you need to do—”

“I’ll only be gone a few days.”

Once more, Meta stared at him, as those seemed like ominous last words. There was a clear inner struggle going on in her. Meta finally nodded, saying in a quieter voice, “If that’s what you need to you…yes, go see Ludendorff. It will probably do you good.”

Maddox grinned. “A few days, that’s all. I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

As Lieutenant Commander Noonan was presently running Victory, and the Adok starship was eighty-five light-years away on a mission, Maddox drove a flitter to the nearest spaceport and took a shuttle that brought him up to an orbital Star Watch destroyer. The destroyer sped to the new pyramidal nexus brought back from the Library Planet. The operational nexus was situated between the Earth and Luna. After a thirteen-minute wait, the destroyer zipped through the created hyper-spatial tube, traveling hundreds of light-years in seconds, to reach the Omicron 9 System.

Several hours of acceleration and then deceleration brought Maddox to the fourth planet. Star Watch had hit it 18 months ago, losing Conqueror-class battleships as they launched hellburners at the surface. That had killed the Yon Soth, an Old One, hidden under worn-down nubs of planetary pyramids.

Maddox boarded a shuttle, going down onto the opposite side of the planet from the former pyramids and hellburner-created crater. The planet had 96.3 percent the mass of Earth and was warmer than it should have been, given its distance from the G-class star. There were hardy lichens, an almost breathable atmosphere and shrieking storms that sent rusted dust particles, much like on Mars, to file everything down over time.

The latest storm buffeted the shuttle, which finally landed in an underground hangar bay.

Maddox exited the shuttle and found the hangar bay empty. He mentally chided himself for coming unarmed. The enforced idleness had made him sloppy. He would change that the first moment he had.

Hatches opened, and three service people hurried to him. They were short and stout Kai-Kaus, wearing gray overalls and boots.

Maddox had rescued the last remnant of the Kai-Kaus, approximately ten thousand people, from a Builder Dyson Sphere one thousand light-years from Earth. That had been years ago, but all Kai-Kaus still treated him with reverence.

“I need weapons,” Maddox told the three.

The chief nodded, taking him to an armory.

Maddox selected a monofilament blade, which he secreted in a boot top. He then chose a Quintana Ten Blaster, threading the holster to his belt before shoving the pistol into it. He added two extra charges to the belt for good measure. Lastly, he slipped a pair of brass knuckles into a pocket.

The Kai-Kaus chief did not blink or raise an eyebrow at that, just waited.

“Are you helping the professor down here?” Maddox asked.

“Indeed so, Captain.”

“What’s he working on, anyway?”

The chief smiled in an inscrutable way.

“Something secret then, I’m guessing,” said Maddox.

“As you’ve already ascertained, sir, the professor will want to explain everything himself.”

“Sure,” Maddox said. “I’m ready. Let’s go see the wunderkind, shall we?”

The chief nodded again, turned and led the way through the underground bunker complex.

-2-

Star Watch had installed the underground hangar bay and bunker sixteen months ago, two months after the Yon Soth’s death.

A Yon Soth was an ancient entity, a huge Cthulhu-like alien, with similar “Outer God” attributes. So far, Yon Soths or Old Ones had always proven hostile to humanity. It was one of the chief reasons the Lord High Admiral had agreed to stomping this one to death like a black widow spider in a child’s sandbox.

How long the slain Yon Soth had lived on the planet before the attack was anyone’s guess. What it had been doing other than surviving—no one in Star Watch knew.

So far, every Yon Soth Star Watch had dealt with had possessed fantastic, nearly magical technology. Very little of that technology had passed on to them. Likely, that was good, as Old-One tech often had transcendent or superhuman qualities.

Normally, Professor Ludendorff remained aboard Starship Victory or went off on his own, often for nefarious reasons. Perhaps he hadn’t liked the idea of being aboard while Valerie Noonan ran the starship. They’d had a few too many “incidents” between them for him to trust her fully or maybe much at all. That he’d been the cause of the former problems—

Professor Ludendorff was a Methuselah Man. Builders had taken him off Earth ages ago and given him enhanced brainpower and the ability to survive centuries. His vast IQ, long life and successes had made him overproud. It wasn’t so much that he hated admitting mistakes as that he hardly acknowledged them to himself. He knew himself to be smarter and therefore automatically believed himself greater than others. Hadn’t most of Star Watch’s keenest successes been due to his genius? To ask the question was to answer it with a huge affirmative.

In any case, the Kai-Kaus chief and Captain Maddox soon found the professor working on an immense machine, one that took up space in many large rooms.

The professor was a white-haired—thickly white-haired—leathery handsome man wearing a black shirt and lab coat. The first three buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing thick white chest hair, a gold chain and a rugged man’s tan. Even Maddox knew that Ludendorff thought of himself as the galaxy’s greatest lover and didn’t mind who knew it.

Two female lab assistants flanked the professor. They were young, dressed in tight clothes and heels, stunning as if in a beauty pageant. They had nametags pinned to their blouses, making identification easier. CLARICE had long blonde hair and clutched a scanner. IRIS had curly brunette hair and was the bustier of the two, the upper buttons of her garment straining. She waited beside a portable tray of tools.

“I’ll leave you here,” the Kai-Kaus chief quietly told Maddox.

The captain nodded. He was tall and muscularly lean, dressed in blue and black with boots and leather jacket. It was civilian wear, as he was on leave, but looked like a uniform of sorts, or maybe it was in the way he held himself. He had lean features and New Men heritage. Although he’d failed to receive all the advanced genetic injections during his time in his mother’s womb, the Erill spiritual energy he’d absorbed later had made up the difference.

Clarice saw him first, arched her eyebrows in surprise and said, “Professor, we have a visitor.”

“Not now,” Ludendorff said with a scowl. “This is a delicate operation. I must concentrate.”

“Yes, professor,” Clarice said, “as you wish.’

Ludendorff’s larger-than-average head snapped up. He noticed Maddox and nodded. “It’s about time you showed up.” Then, he went back to doing something to this part of the immense machine as lights blinked and other parts beeped.

Iris glanced at Maddox, smiling at him.

It wasn’t that Maddox didn’t notice, but he was married, happily so, and planned to keep it that way for the rest of his life, so he gave her only a polite nod.

Iris raised a brunette eyebrow, and her smile changed to a half pout, as if she didn’t appreciate the captain’s self-control. Then, something shifted in her eyes. The pout vanished as the something in her eyes became calculating.

“Calibrator,” Ludendorff said testily.

Iris turned to him. “What was that, professor?”

Ludendorff scowled thunderously as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’ve said calibrator three times already. Are you sure you want this…position?”

“Yes, professor, of course,” Iris said, picking a slender metal rod off the tray, betraying her red fingernails, and handing it to him.

The professor grunted, glanced farther to eye Maddox, looked at Iris again and then muttered under his breath as he used the calibrator to test what he’d done.

Iris glanced at Maddox once more. The steely-eyed man appeared not to know what had just taken place. In fact, he seemed indifferent to it all.

The calculation in Iris’s intense eyes shifted yet again. She’d apparently learned that Ludendorff was jealous of the tall man. How very interesting indeed, potentially useful, too.

However, Iris was wrong to think that Maddox failed to notice the interplay. Not only was he normally the captain of Victory, but he was a highly trained Intelligence operative. He was a greater Intelligence officer than line captain, and his many successes usually hinged upon the fact.

The curly-haired woman was obviously devious and had some ulterior motive. That did not necessarily mean against Star Watch or humanity in general. It could be she had womanly desires and would sink her claws into whoever could help her the most—help to get the things she desired.

Clearly, by their behavior and stances, Ludendorff was sleeping with both lab assistants. The Methuselah Man was a goat, a satyr given the right provocations. Was that interfering with whatever the professor was working on? Maddox intended to find out before he proceeded further.

With a start, Maddox realized something else. He was enjoying himself. It wasn’t the beautiful women that prompted the enjoyment, but the potential of a problem that needed fixing.

Maddox hooked his thumbs in his belt, waiting for the old goat to finish the delicate operation. I’ve had enough shore leave. It’s time to saddle up and do something again. He cocked his head. He’d been tired before this. With Jewel’s birth and the time off—

Maddox grinned, hoping the professor had something interesting for him to do.

-3-

“So glad you decided to come,” Ludendorff said. “This is really interesting work, my boy, interesting indeed. I can hardly fathom the opportunity. It’s mind boggling.”

The professor had finished the delicate operation and told the lab assistants to clean up. He’d patted the blonde on the ass, turned and kissed Iris on the cheek and then beckoned Maddox to follow him.

Neither Maddox nor Ludendorff had seen Iris’s calculating stare as they left, or that Clarice no longer seemed quite so innocent. She nodded once as Iris turned to her. Then, the two began putting away the tools.

Ludendorff brought Maddox to his office on the other end of the complex.

The captain noted the security. For the last three hatches, Ludendorff had typed a long string of numbers and letters before the lock clicked open. No one was in the last part of the complex, either, no lab assistants or Kai-Kaus technicians.

Ludendorff plopped into a squeaky swivel chair behind a mammoth desk littered with papers, folios, computer slates and several odd-shaped metal objects. The objects were knuckle-sized and coated with a film of oil.

Maddox sat in a chair before the desk.

Ludendorff continued to spout off without saying anything important. He was excited, overly animated and had red-rimmed eyes. He seemed thinner than usual, thinner than Maddox had ever seen him. The eyes and thinness definitely indicated something different with the professor. Given that Ludendorff worked on the former planet of a Yon Soth and two years ago, Balron the Traveler had fiddled with the professor’s mind—

Ludendorff abruptly ceased speaking, leaning forward, eyeing the captain. “What’s wrong, my boy?”

Maddox raised an eyebrow.

“No, no,” Ludendorff said. “Don’t give me the Maddox shrug-off. The look on your face: you disapprove of something I’ve been doing.”

Maddox raised the other eyebrow.

“My boy, I’ve been with you a long time and on many missions. I’ve come to know the look I’m seeing. Thus, I ask again: what’s wrong?”

Right, Maddox realized. We’re finally getting to it. It was time to learn the details. But first— “Where did you find the two lab assistants?”

“You disapprove of them?” Ludendorff asked archly.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well…do you disapprove of them?”

“Is there any reason I should?”

Ludendorff looked away and shook his head. There were several seconds of silence, then, “I miss Dana,” he said suddenly.

“Oh,” Maddox said. That was out left field. “So go find her.”

Ludendorff faced him. “That’s easy for you to say. Dana left me, remember?”

Maddox said nothing more, wondering on Ludendorff’s erratic switch of topic.

“I don’t think Dana wants me to find her,” Ludendorff added.

“You could be right, but you won’t know until you try.”

“Bah!” Ludendorff said, as he struck the desktop with both fists. “Why do I need to find Dana? I have Clarice and Iris. They’re smart, beautiful and more than willing. I’m teaching them the true situation of the universe.”

“Oh?”

“That nothing is better than a Methuselah Man’s love,” Ludendorff said.

“Well, if that makes you happy…”

Ludendorff scowled. “Damn you and your moralizing. I want nothing to do with it, do you hear?”

“No problem. It’s your life. I retract my suggestion.”

“Bah! You don’t fool me. You think I’m trying to drown out thoughts of Dana with legendary bouts of lovemaking with two beautiful strangers. You probably suspect I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.”

“No. That’s certainly not true. I’ve always thought you were too old for it.”

“What?”

“Professor,” Maddox said, as he held up his hands, palms forward. “What you do in your spare time—”

“It’s all related,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “There’s nothing ‘spare time’ about it.”

That stopped Maddox. “What do you mean?”

Ludendorff looked away again. He shook his head seconds later. “This is exciting work. Don’t you agree?”

“I have no idea, as you haven’t told me what you’re attempting to achieve.”

Ludendorff continued to look away. He swiveled his chair so his body matched his stare as he now sat sideways to the captain. “I requested this place a month after the bombing. I did that because the lieutenant commander found hidden artifacts deep in the mantle.”

“You’re saying Valerie found these artifacts?”

“She reported the location of the finds to your grandmother. I learned about them soon thereafter.”

“My grandmother didn’t say anything about this to me,” Maddox said.

As Ludendorff looked away, he pursed his lips. “The entire project is under the Iron Lady’s Intelligence jurisdiction. It’s top secret and quite hush-hush even to the spooks.”

Maddox waited, beginning to wonder where this was headed.

Ludendorff sighed. “Seventeen months ago, the Iron Lady and I decided on Kai-Kaus assistance for the project. After Andros Crank, I have some of the best Kai-Kaus scientists and theoretical technicians. They’ve been a great help and boon to me. Clarice and Iris joined us later, three months ago, in fact.”

“Did the Iron Lady vet them then?”

Ludendorff’s head twitched just enough that he gave Maddox the slightest of side studies. He then promptly continued to look away. “She did at that.”

“And?” asked Maddox.

“To a degree, Clarice and Iris are agents. Spies, I’m sure.”

“For whom?” asked Maddox.

“That’s a good question. Unfortunately, neither the Iron Lady nor I are certain. Obviously, they’re beautiful and—”

“Wait a minute,” Maddox said. “You and Mary know they’re agents, enemy agents?”

“I just said that.”

“But you don’t know who they work for?”

“Does that bother you?”

“And you’re letting them see exactly what you’re doing?”

“So far we are, anyway,” said Ludendorff.

Maddox considered all that. He nodded. “I’d like to know why.”

Ludendorff inhaled through his nostrils, and now swiveled his chair to regard the captain. “This is an intensely guarded site, although I doubt anyone but for me, you, your grandmother and the guardians know that.”

“Do the two enemy agents know?”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I don’t believe so.”

“Uh-huh,” Maddox said. “Now tell me why you’re thinner and your eyes are so red.”

“As you no doubt already suspect, my lab assistants are causing it.”

“Because of your proclivity for prolonged sexual bouts?” asked Maddox.

“No, no, the bouts are my cover to lull their suspicions. The thinness and red eyes are for different reasons.”

Maddox’s manner changed. It was not overt, although a highly trained observer might have noticed.  The real difference was within as his suspicious ramped up to high alert. He once again became the Intelligence officer, the old Captain Maddox with his newer attributes purring.

“Do you believe what I’m saying?” Ludendorff asked.

“Of course,” Maddox said, although he hadn’t decided yet.

Ludendorff nodded. “The past few months, Clarice and Iris have offered me critical, nay, central-to-success suggestions. We’re entering the final phase with the machine, but now I’ve hit more snags than you can believe.”

“What kind of snags?”

“Perhaps snag isn’t the right word. I’ve struck brick walls more than once. What we’re attempting is all highly theoretical and uses several—well, we’re not sure what to make of several of the key components to the greater machine.”

“Components that you dug up from the planet’s mantle?” Maddox guessed.

“Correct.”

“Components Valerie first discovered, and which you suspect are of Yon Soth manufacture?”

“Also correct,” Ludendorff said.

“I see. This puts a different light on everything. What’s the machine supposed to do?”

Ludendorff leaned back in his squeaky chair, staring up at the ceiling as he placed both hands over his pectorals, interlacing his fingers.

“I ran into…titanium walls with the machine, with no idea how to proceed or go around. My Kai-Kaus teams likewise had no idea. Then, Clarice or Iris would moan a suggestion during…during our times together. Each time, the suggestion would help me see the problem from a new direction or perspective. It would be as if I’d walked several feet to the left and looked at the problem from that new angle. Then, the way to proceed would appear in my mind, and the project continued.”

“Does the Iron Lady know about these…suggestions and how you acquire them?”

“Oh, yes,” Ludendorff said.

“Because you confide in her?” asked Maddox.

Ludendorff still leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “I know what you’re thinking. In the old days, I stayed well away from the Iron Lady’s clutches because I feared she might intern me, much as the New Men used to intern or imprison Strand.”

“I remember,” Maddox said.

“In the past, I caused the Iron Lady much pain and suffering. Last mission, we rectified some of that. I still feel beholden to her, though, for what I caused. This is yet more repayment of my debt to her.”

Maddox would have liked to believe that, but he wasn’t convinced, nor did he entirely disbelieve it. He was still assessing, although the revelations troubled him.

“Naturally, given the situation with Venna, the Spacer spy, on the Library Planet, both the Iron Lady and I have suspected that Clarice and Iris could be Spacer adepts. Each time we secretly scanned for inner devices in Clarice or Iris, we found nothing damning or out of the ordinary. That caused us to switch our suspicions toward Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. It’s still a possibility, but I have begun to suspect something else entirely.”

Maddox nodded for the professor to continue.

“I’ve begun to wonder if Clarice and Iris are Yon Soth agents.”

The idea slammed against Maddox. Given the present facts—he found it hard to breathe. Yon Soth-trained agents. His eyes narrowed as he considered the idea. Oh. “Yes, that could be possible. However, the last time we ran into such agents, the Yon Soth used Spacers. Why do you suspect Yon Soths, and why do you think—?”

Maddox quit speaking as Ludendorff sat up, glaring at him.

“The reason why should be obvious to you by now,” Ludendorff said. “The artifacts that are making the machine possible have Yon Soth origins or have been buried here for…for who knows how long.”

“I have the solution.”

“Eh?”

“To uncover the real identity to Clarice and Iris,” Maddox said.

“We thought you might,” Ludendorff said. “What do you suggest as our first step?”

“Interrogate them.”

Ludendorff frowned, soon shaking his head. “You disappoint me, Captain. I obviously can’t allow their interrogation just yet, as the machine isn’t ready, isn’t functional. I might need more of their suggestions to achieve the breakthrough. If I interrogate them, I risk losing their services.”

Maddox raised an eyebrow before he realized the professor hadn’t meant that as a double entendre. He reconsidered the peculiar dilemma until the solution came. “Here’s what you do. Interrogate one…after she has a supposedly terrible accident that demands her removal to the best medical facility possible. Meaning, you take her off-planet.”

“What if they can communicate…I don’t know, telepathically with each other?”

“Then maybe you have an even bigger problem than you realize. If they’re telepathic or something similar, an enemy fleet might already be heading here.”

“No. I don’t think so, and even if that’s true, Star Watch can dump a fleet in the system within an hour. With a nexus at Earth, the Lord High Admiral has been keeping most of Star Watch’s battleships on standby there, ready to use a hyper-spatial tube to send the ships directly into any trouble spot.”

“Still—”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Ludendorff asked, interrupting.

Maddox frowned, wondering upon the Methuselah Man’s touchiness. “I do indeed,” he finally said. “Stop—or stall—what you’re doing with this machine. If Yon Soths are backing it through their two spies giving you critical information, it likely is too dangerous to continue progressing. You risk too much with too many unknowns.”

“That’s an unusual attitude for you in particular to take,” Ludendorff said.

“Perhaps,” Maddox said. “What precisely is the machine supposed to do again?”

The professor’s gaze slid away from the captain’s level stare. The Methuselah Man did it as if he were guilty about something.

“Are you saying you don’t know?” Maddox asked.

“Not one hundred percent, no,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox shook his head, as it seemed obvious that Ludendorff was lying. Maddox thought about the implications of that, stood, drew his Quintana Ten Blaster and aimed it at the professor.

“Captain—”

“Let me talk for bit,” Maddox said, interrupting. “Unless you want me to fire immediately, that is…”

“Are you out of your mind?” Ludendorff said, his voice rising.

“I don’t believe I am. Now, let’s consider something else. What you’ve been describing to me doesn’t sound like anything the Iron Lady would do or run. That makes me suspect something completely different is taking place here. I’m not even sure you’re the Professor Ludendorff I know. That causes me to believe that your true goal—” Maddox stopped talking as he studied the professor. “You, whoever you are—why have you let me keep my weapons?”

“Captain Maddox, my boy, you’re as distrustful as ever, I see. This time, however, your suspicions have gotten the better of you. I assure you that I’m indeed me, Professor Ludendorff in the flesh. The Kai-Kaus you spoke to are who they seem to be. Only Clarice and Iris are agents or spies. The truth is that your grandmother is running one of her riskiest projects yet. Remember, though, she came alone to see me years ago in the Tau Ceti System in order to fix a problem. She took a big risk that time, and it cost her dearly. In truth, it is her way to take too big of risks. That means this is exactly her style. It was why she was able to keep ahead of the New Men just enough back in the day. It was why she backed you, often during your wildest forays, when everyone else wanted to burn you.”

Despite his growing unease, Maddox realized the professor had a point about his grandmother. He did not lower the blaster, however. Part of him wondered if he should just fire and see what happened.

Finally, Maddox sat down, and he lowered the blaster, laying it on his lap. He kept hold of it, though, and continued to align the orifice at the supposed professor behind the mammoth desk.

“It’s time for you to tell me exactly what you think or hope the machine is going to do once it’s functional,” Maddox said.

-4-

Professor Ludendorff set both hands on the desktop, nodding. “It’s a complex machine, which you’ve probably already surmised. The artifacts hidden in the planetary mantle—it took laborious effort reclaiming them. The artifacts appear to be of fantastic age. Our scanners searched but could not find more. The reason we looked is that it appears as if the machine is missing several pieces, critical components, in fact.”

“Professor,” Maddox said. “It sounds as if you’re stalling, as if you don’t want to tell me what the machine is supposed to do. Why is that? Why don’t you want to say?”

“That’s sheer nonsense, my boy. I have no reason at all to stall, none whatsoever, believe me.”

Maddox did not believe Ludendorff. He thus stood again, once more aiming the blaster at the man. Was this really Ludendorff? Maddox recalled a time, many years ago, when he’d shot a Ludendorff, an android lookalike. It had badly shaken those around him. Should he attempt another such “killing”? The supposed Ludendorff sounded and acted like the real one. The idea of using two spies as technical specialists—that would fit with his grandmother’s cunning. But the likelihood Clarice and Iris could communicate with outsiders—

“Captain,” Ludendorff said. “Do you smell that?”

Maddox sniffed the air. He didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. Then, he did. It came from Ludendorff. It was…oily, machine oil possibly. That focused the captain’s attention onto the knuckle-sized steel pieces lying on the desk.

One of the pieces twitched, or the entire small piece moved a fraction. A different one like an Iron Cross began to spin ever so slowly.

Ludendorff’s eyes became huge as he saw that. “Captain, what’s happening?”

Maddox’s trigger finger tightened so he nearly blasted or beamed a hole into Ludendorff. This smacked too much of Methuselah Man trickery or possible misdirection by an enemy agent.

Ludendorff launched out of his chair, throwing a frightened glance over his shoulder. That seemed odd, because the back wall of the office was directly behind the professor. The wall held a few pictures and paintings—

Maddox gaped at the wall. A faint swirling hole appeared in it. The hole was bigger or taller than a normal man and just as wide as it was high. The faintness made it appear ethereal or ghostly. As Maddox watched, the faintness solidified into something more. The color was no longer a ghostly white but blue, turning darker blue the more it solidified.

Then, two humanoids in crinkling black suits and black helmets and boots, with tanks on their backs and hoses going from the tanks to the helmets, jumped through the opening. Each of them held a carbine, while the visors of their helmets were black, making it impossible to see their faces. Even so, the visors were not normal and flattish but snout-like, as if the wearers were baboon-like humanoids or—

“Ardazirhos,” Maddox said. That was the name for wolfish humanoids the captain had met last mission. With the sound of his voice and the realization this was actually happening, the trigger finger tightened just enough.

A narrow beam shot from the blaster, taking the first black-suited humanoid in the chest. The beam burned through the material, burned through possible fur, flesh, muscle and fat tissues and then bone and burst out the other side of the suit to flash into the dark blue hole in the wall.

Time seemed to slow down for Captain Maddox as his decision-making process quickened. That had to do with the Erill spiritual energy he’d absorbed in the past. His reflexes went into overdrive, and the muscles hinging his jaws flexed tight.

The second black-suited humanoid turned his helmet. At the same time, the critically wounded humanoid crumpled to the floor, blood beginning to gush through the hole in the middle of his chest.

Ludendorff was shouting, maybe screaming. The Methuselah Man began to flail his arms as his thighs surged with adrenaline, propelling his body out of the near vicinity of the huge desk.

Maddox targeted the second humanoid. In a microsecond, he wondered if he should try to take the second one captive. He rejected the idea as too risky. This was a timed assault. Otherwise, why would they do this when he was here and just as Ludendorff had been about to tell him about the machine’s function?

The trigger jerked a second time, sending a beam into the second humanoid. Like the first one, this creature, this possible wolf-like Ardazirho, died as he stood there, trying to bring his carbine to bear on the murderous killer-ape called Captain Maddox.

As the second black-suited humanoid collapsed onto the floor, Maddox switched his focus onto the swirling blue opening. Did he see something in the blue? Maddox was not sure. His intuitive sense granted him by Balron the Traveler kicked into high gear. There were too many mysteries with the machine, with Clarice and Iris, with the ancient artifacts found in the fourth planet’s mantle.

Before Maddox could reason it out, his legs were moving. He charged the swirling blue, realizing the colors had already begun to lighten. That indicated the people back there were closing the hole. That would give all the initiative to the enemy. Where did the opening lead?

We need answers, Maddox told himself. By that time, he’d already launched into the swirling blue. He did so with the blaster held tight in his right hand. The last thing he remembered was Ludendorff shouting at him. It sounded like, “What are you doing? You must stop before it’s too late. Nooo—”

The instant Maddox passed into the swirling blue, the sound of Ludendorff’s voice cut off.

At that point—

Lights exploded upon Maddox’s vision. The flashing lights blinded him, which made him squeeze his eyelids shut. Sounds—gongs, sirens and banshee-like screeches—made him wince in agony and hunch his bare head. Smells of offal and apple pie mingled with burnt electrical wires and freshly mowed grass. He felt himself tumbling head over feet. He seemed to do so faster, and it made him lightheaded. Maddox shouted, and the words swam before his senses. Then, he realized he had his eyes shut. How could he see anything?

For an instant, it felt as if he was falling. Maddox held his breath and tightened his body for impact, a reptilian response to the sense of falling.

He thudded upon concrete, grunting, then groaning and twisting in pain.

The smells vanished. The sounds were no more. The silence seemed deafening. The lights—

I have to open my eyes.

Maddox peeled them open as if they’d been glued shut by partly dried blood, pliable scabs, in other words. All he saw was blurry red. He reached up to his eyes, brushing them with his palm as he felt wetness. He looked again and saw the half-congealed blood on his palm. He had been bleeding.

A sound caused Maddox to jerk his hand away. It was then he saw, and he couldn’t believe it.

-5-

Captain Maddox slowly raised his head from the hard concrete launching pad of a strikefighter, a one-man vessel normally housed in motherships. Had he transported here? Was this the Ardazirho ship that had created a transfer tube? Lisa Meyers’s people had used those. He recalled it from the time at the pirate-base Tortuga.

Maddox groaned as he shifted to a seated position. He still held his blaster. The front of his jacket had sustained dusty markings and scratches. Otherwise—

He moved his arms, fingers, tried his legs and toes. Everything appeared to be in working order. He inhaled. That hurt his chest some, but the air—

He frowned, exhaling sharply and inhaling once more. The air had a stale quality, as if something essential was missing. He concentrated on his head. No, he didn’t feel any dizziness. The air did not lack oxygen to sustain a person but something else, something vital.

Gathering his resolve and then his strength, Maddox climbed to his feet. He felt a bit lightheaded then, and bent over, grabbing a knee with his free hand. He breathed in and out, and the dizziness passed. He straightened again, looking around.

He was definitely in a hangar bay. It was larger than any on Victory, and it was devoid of strikefighters, or any type of spacecraft. There weren’t any people or Ardazirhos, for that matter.

Maddox opened his mouth and then closed it again. He’d wanted to shout, “Hello! Is anyone here?”

Let’s look around before I let others know I’ve arrived.

He’d transferred from Ludendorff’s office to—he looked around again, more critically than last time. This seemed like a spaceship. Could he feel a thrum from the engine? He listened, with his head bent. There was a faint vibration against the bottom of his boots. That could from a spaceship’s engine. If so, was the vessel in orbit around the fourth planet of Omicron 9?

He had no idea, even though that seemed likeliest. Maddox started walking. It was time to find out.

As he walked, Maddox began feeling more normal. Any hint of a headache vanished, and the stiffness in his chest disappeared. He gathered his senses, which had been…

Maddox stopped as he considered what had happened. His senses had sustained overload possibly. How else could he explain it? The process of traveling through…whatever he’d crossed or gone through seemed to have caused the overloaded sensations.

He cocked his head.

Why would he have landed here instead of the launch point of the two black-suited humanoids? They hadn’t come from here, had they? There was nothing to indicate they had. The way they’d acted coming through…they’d seemed like a scouting team.

Ah. Had he needed something they had in the suits to reach their origin point? The two had worn helmets and breathed their own portable air. There must have been a reason for that.

Maddox became grimmer, walking more swiftly, his awareness and reactions hair-trigger once again. He reached a hatch, hesitated and pressed a switch—he exhaled with relief as it opened. If it hadn’t—

“It did,” he said, feeling better hearing his own voice. He nodded as he started down the corridor. It seemed normal, normal for humans. Therefore, his adversaries likely weren’t bigger than he was. That was good, and good to know. Keeping his morale high was important, as the sense of unreality to the situation was strong and growing. The feeling of unreality attacked his resolve.

“Not going to happen,” Maddox said.

His footfalls rang in the corridor, which kept going. Every side hatch so far—he tried them all—was locked. The ship felt deserted, and he didn’t like that. Once more, he inhaled deeply, and once more, he concluded that something was missing from the air. That was starting to bother him. He couldn’t do anything about it, but he wanted to know what caused the staleness.

As Maddox continued down the empty corridor, the desire to run caused him to increase his pace. He stopped a little later, forcing himself to stand still. He was not going to lose his self-control.

“Let’s deliberate,” he said.

This time, the sound of his voice didn’t help. He was starting to feel uneasy, an itch along his shoulders, which made him hunch. He rotated, his gaze roving high and then low. He couldn’t spot any surveillance gear or lenses, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Does it feel as if someone is watching me?

After a minute of silent considering, he concluded it did not. Was this like the realm he’d walked for Balron last mission?

He shook his head. There had been visible or concrete signs back then that he’d been in a different…dimension seemed as good a word as any to describe it.

Could he have arrived here a microsecond out of normal time or phase? How could he know or measure such a thing?

Maddox finally shrugged and continued to stride down the empty corridor. He walked for approximately ten minutes. He did not feel exhausted or anything else strange. But every time he breathed deeply, it definitely felt as if the air was missing—a thrusting force that indicated life.

He stopped abruptly. Am I dead? Have I died? He shuddered. Could Meta have been right? Should he have remained home? Was he a ghost perhaps, haunting a Star Watch vessel?

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You’re very much alive. Ghosts don’t bleed.”

A wry grin stretched his lips. He loved his newborn daughter, but he was still Captain Maddox. This was what he did: solve mysteries that might have negative repercussions for the Commonwealth of Planets.

He started walking again—and once more stopped suddenly.

A creak, he’d heard a metallic creak. There! He heard it again. It came from ahead.

Re-gripping the Quintana Ten Blaster, Maddox advanced cautiously, his muscles tensing like some tiger stalking through elephant grass. He strained to hear any telltale sounds, tested the air with his nostrils.

He froze. A hatch just out of sight and ahead of him clicked, or its lock did. With his eyes half-lidded, he listened more intently.

Breathing, he heard strained breathing as through a filter or mask. Cloth or some other kind of fabric crinkled. Boots thudded against deckplates.

Slowly, Maddox crouched and crab-walked until his right shoulder leaned against a corridor bulkhead. He raised the blaster, aiming it ahead of him. He brought his other hand up, steadying his aim.

Whoever breathed harshly and made the crinkling sounds approached. They did not come quickly, but seemingly cautiously.

Abruptly, the hard breathing, crinkling and footfalls ceased. Something clicked, and a voice called out.

Maddox shuddered. He did not understand the words, and the sounds. He didn’t think a human throat had formed them. Was that proof he faced Ardazirhos?

What did he recall about the wolfish aliens from last mission? They’d called themselves Gatherers. The captain he’d spoken to had been hunting for zoo specimens for aliens in the center of the galaxy.

Why would Ardazirhos have anything to do with Yon Soths?

Maddox shook his head. He had no idea.

He stiffened and quit his soul-searching. The others were on the move again and heading straight for him. They did not call out a second time.

The captain’s tension increased, and suddenly, he could no longer wait for it to happen. This was like a bad horror movie. The build-up was proving too much.

With a grunt, Maddox stood and rushed around the corridor. He saw a swirling blue hole, but this one was in the air, in the middle of the corridor. There were two of the black-suited humanoids. They wore helmets, air-tanks and attached hoses. Both of them cradled carbines, and they leapt through the blue hole, going somewhere else.

Maddox’s heart was beating wildly. For a second, he aimed and nearly fired at them. At the last moment, he eased pressure from the trigger, straightened and watched the two disappear. The hole was sideways to him. They jumped through—

The blue swirling hole began shrinking. Should try to jump through before it disappeared?

Maddox’s heart beat faster as he mentally raced through pros and cons of the action.

“Go,” he said.

He did, sprinting like only a New Man could. His boot soles slipped just a little on the floor as he pivoted—

The hole was shrinking faster, and it swirled faster than ever. Without further hesitation, Captain Maddox dove into the hole. He twisted as if doing the Fosbury Flop, saw the hole dilating down and yanked his legs and boots in after him so the disappearing hole didn’t slice them from his body.

He plummeted through darkness, gaining speed, wondering if he’d just committed suicide.

-6-

Maddox first saw light below him as a pin-dot. It grew fast as he fell, and then he plunged through what seemed like an opening. Then everything around him became visible, although he barely had time to understand. He crashed upon a standing man, coming down on the head, hurling the uniformed man onto the deck and landing on top of him as bones violently cracked.

Likely, the unfortunate man’s presence saved Maddox’s life, or at least from severe injuries. The landing knocked the wind out of Maddox as he twisted painfully. That caused him to roll off the twitching man he’d struck and knocked down.

Maddox’s consciousness threatened to depart, and maybe time jumped, for suddenly he was aware of others rushing near. He heard garbled sounds. Then, others hauled him to his feet. The others—two of them—had powerful grips. They spoke to him again.

Maddox strained to understand what they said, but he could not. What had just happened? He was groggy, his mind reeling. He became aware that the two men were marching him down a corridor. This time, Maddox definitely felt the thrum of an engine under his feet. He passed what appeared to be glass-covered portholes and saw stars outside in the blackness. What kind of spaceship was this, anyway?

Maddox’s vision expanded back to normal as he felt a trickle of blood run down his face from his forehead. He couldn’t wipe the blood away because these two goons had hold of his arms. They wore black uniforms with a red armband with a white circle and a back trident symbol in the center.

“Where are you taking me?” Maddox asked.

The right-hand goon glanced at him in disbelief. “You killed the Red patrol chief, and you’re asking me where we’re taking you?”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Maddox said.

The other goon chuckled. “You bashed his head and broke his neck. More like shattered it, as I saw bones sticking out of his neck. He ain’t breathing, neither. By everything I know, I’d call that killed.”

“No,” Maddox protested. “It was an accident. I fell from—” Maddox didn’t finish the sentence. What could he say that anyone would believe? He hardly believed it himself.

“Is that what you’re going to tell the First Marshal?” the right-hand goon asked. “It was an accident?”

“Look—” Maddox said.

“Save it, climber,” the goon said, interrupting. “It’s lucky for you, the First Marshal is sick of Red Team. They don’t have any élan or polish. Do you figure to change all that with you in charge?”

“What?”

“You should have formally called out the patrol chief, though. That’s the right way to climb rank. The First Marshal is a stickler for the forms. I don’t know if he’s going to accept your upgrade or airlock you for despicable behavior.”

“The cut on your forehead was a good touch, though,” the second goon said.

“Yeah,” said the first. “You have a point there.”

Maddox closed his mouth. He didn’t know what exactly was going on. Were they suggesting that by killing a higher ranked officer, he gained the officer’s position? Wouldn’t that make for a bloodthirsty or piratical crew? There was another thing. Surely, if this were a spaceship, the officials would know soon enough that he didn’t belong on it. Maybe just as interesting as the promotional method was that he understood what these two said. As he marched down the corridor, it came to Maddox that he’d never heard their kind of accent or inflection before.

Had he crossed a mighty length of distance in the latest fall through the blue hole or had he crossed or passed through time or moved into a different dimension?

Too soon, the goons transferred him to bigger, tougher musclemen with better quality uniforms. These guards had truncheons, poking Maddox in the back, propelling him into a small chamber. They forced him to sit on a metal chair. Then, they stepped back so they flanked him from behind but remained out of sight.

A hatch opened and a gaudily dressed man stepped into the room. He was big and broad with a thick neck. He wore a scarlet uniform with plenty of gold braid and a furry cloak with silver clasps and polished black jackboots. He had short black hair and a coarse face with a mashed nose that had obviously been broken many times. A curved and sheathed saber dangled from his belt, while an ornate blaster sat on the other hip. The big man wore black gloves. He used his right hand to extract a monocle from a pocket, placing the monocle before his right eye, studying Maddox through it.

“Am I right?” the officer said in a loud voice. “You’re the one who killed the Red patrol chief?”

“It was an accident,” Maddox said.

“Accident?” the officer shouted. “Are you telling me you don’t desire his rank?”

“Sir—” Maddox said.

“I’m the First Marshal,” the huge man corrected, “not some lowly sir. Or do you think to eliminate me and take my position too?”

Maddox blinked once, twice and by the third decided that he’d correctly guessed the promotional system. He would worry about where he was later. Just to make sure of this, though, he asked, “If I kill the patrol chief, I take his rank, right?”

The First Marshal glanced at one of the flanking guards.

“It looks like he took a blow to the head, First Marshal,” the guard said. “That might have affected his memory some.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” the First Marshal said. “Now, give him a rag. I’m tired at looking at his bloody head.”

Maddox saw a rag and a hand thrust from the side and before his face. He took the rag and gingerly dabbed at the cut. It didn’t hurt much, but there was more blood than he wanted to see.

“Sit up, climber,” the First Marshal said. “I’m sick of seeing you slouch like a prole.”

Maddox did as ordered, sitting up as he held the rag against the head gash.

“Do you want to ask more stupid questions?” the First Marshal said.

“No, sir—First Marshal, I mean,” Maddox said.

The huge, gaudily dressed First Marshal grunted. “Now, let’s get to it. Did you kill the Red patrol chief or not?”

“I don’t remember it very well,” Maddox said, deciding that was as good an angle to play as any.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?” the First Marshal said.

The First Marshal might look slightly ridiculous in his getup, but the eye squinting through the monocle showed sharp intelligence. What kind of man would rise to the top in a kill or be killed setup? A brutal, ruthless and efficient man would, one of deep cunning and understanding of human nature.

“I killed the patrol chief,” Maddox said.

“And how did you kill him, eh?”

“I broke his neck, First Marshal.”

The First Marshal glanced at a guard. The man must have nodded. “Why do it like that, eh?”

“To—as a show of strength and ruthlessness,” Maddox said.

The eye staring through the monocle sharpened, and the First Marshal seemed to take Maddox’s measure. “You want his position, I take it?”

“Yes, First Marshal.”

The First Marshal nodded. “You’ve earned it through rite of combat. Do you know the patrol chief’s duties?”

“I do, First Marshal,” Maddox said, lying through his teeth.

“You’d better whip Red Team into line, then. I’m tired of their laxity and ragged discipline. There’s alien tech out there, and I mean to have it even if I have to spend all your lives in acquiring it. Do I make myself clear?”

“You do, First Marshal. You can count on me.”

“Do you think you can whip the former patrol-chief’s henchmen into line, or am I going to have this talk with your replacement tomorrow morning?”

“No one’s replacing me,” Maddox said.

Once more, the First Marshal eyed him critically. “I believe you, even though it looks as if you sneaked out of a holding cell. If you did, I don’t care. Just do your job. But a word to the wise. You’d better get into uniform fast if you’re thinking to keep your exalted position as patrol chief.”

“I will, First Marshal. Thank you for the advice.”

The big man nodded. “You don’t look like a lifer, but we shall see. If you can manage to hold onto your rank for a week…we’ll talk again. As you’re no doubt aware, you’ve reached command status. But you might find sooner than you think that climbing rank is a whole lot easier than keeping it.”

That had an ominous ring and made sense given the setup, but Maddox intended on staying alive at least long enough to figure out what had happened to him or long enough to find a way back home to Meta and Jewel.

-7-

The name of the spaceship was the Autocrat, and it massed fifty-five million tons, on station near Moloch, ten months out from Crowder III on the trans-Lucifer run.

Almost none of that made sense to the new Red Patrol Chief Maddox. The stars and constellations weren’t like anything he remembered. There was no Earth, no New Men, Spacers, Yon Soths or Builders. He couldn’t be sure this wasn’t a different dimension, as he might just as easily be in another galaxy or on the other side of the Milky Way Galaxy. How did one decide such a thing? Perhaps if Galyan had aided him, Maddox might have come up with a solution. But for obvious reasons, that wasn’t going to happen for now.

As far as Maddox could tell, the Autocrat wasn’t a pirate vessel, but it was run along predatory lines and it possessed huge laser cannons. The last was a relief, as at least he understood their science and technology. That indicated he was in the same universe, as the basic scientific laws worked, as he understood them, anyway.

The first week proved the hardest, as Maddox fended off three different attempts on his life from Red team members. The fourth was a formal duel for his position. The swords were anything but normal, though. They were six feet of wobbly steel, a cross between a sword and silly string. The match took place in a dueling corridor with glass window-seats along the bulkheads for spectators.

Maddox would have easily defeated his foe with regular sabers. The duel reminded him too much of his face-off against Emperor Trahey of the New Men last mission. He fought desperately, the wobbling sword more of a hindrance than help. Twice, his foe used the whipping tip to slash past Maddox’s guard, cutting his face. Finally, Maddox dueled zealously, working closer, closer, and used the pommel of his whip-sword to smash his opponent in the face, knocking him down. Before anyone could stop him, Maddox kicked his foe in the face. He didn’t kill the fellow, but he won the match and broke the other’s jaw.

Some considered that poor form. Others suspected he’d done it that way to instill fear in anyone else considering challenging him. A few of those watching had taken notes. The point was that Maddox had won, and the next few days proved much easier, as there were no more attempts on his life.

He chose three downtrodden members of Red Team, promoting them to lifeguards: men to watch his back, to protect his life.

He began studying his position and duties in earnest along with the people under him. A more vicious venal lot would have been hard to find. They quarreled, gossiped and worked to undercut each other at every turn. They flew patrol boats from the Autocrat, searching through a dense field of asteroids, debris and dust. In the far distance was Moloch: a molten moon that orbited a heavily radiating Jovian gas giant called Lucifer.

Maddox began to study the other patrol teams, soon discovering that the effective ones possessed brutal taskmasters for chiefs, using pain and fear as the motivators.

Two weeks after landing on the Autocrat and after learning how to behave, Maddox found himself uncommonly depressed. This was a nasty and tiring place. He did not want to live here much longer if he could help it. The trouble was that he still had no idea where here was. Damn Ludendorff, anyway, and damn the blasted machine with its Yon Soth parts.

He longed to see Meta, see his baby girl Jewel. That intensified his resolve to leave the Autocrat and leave wherever this was. Had Ludendorff’s machine caused the beings in black helmets and suits to attack as they had? Did the half-finished machine link to this place in some manner? Was Ludendorff trying to find him, or was he all on his own out here?

Maddox read what histories he could find easily, studied behaviors and rewarded one of his flight crews for bringing in a small metal part with a film of oil coating it. When he brought the piece to Records, Maddox had them record the flight crew’s name and number, enduring the recorder’s stare of disbelief.

The normal procedure was to take credit himself. Maddox had already decided on a new method, one that might help improve Red Team’s morale.

As word of the act circulated, his patrol crews began to search harder than the other colors. Then, a different Red Team brought in another metal piece. This one lacked a film of oil, but it was larger than the first piece.

As before, Maddox had the people at Records mark down the crew and craft that had found it. The recorders still stared at him, a few making a quiet joke about it. The third time it happened—two days later—there were more stares from the recorders, but of incomprehension and perhaps a touch of respect toward him. Red Team was making an impression with these consecutive finds so close in time. The fourth find and recording a day later must have been a final straw.

There was another attempt on his life. It didn’t happen because of anyone on Red Team, but from Blue. Blue had formerly been the best team on Autocrat. With the fourth piece brought in, first position shifted decisively to Red.

Maddox walked down an Autocrat corridor with one of his lifeguards when three heavily muscled bruisers blocked the way. They each had steel batons, the middle tough-guy smacking the end against his open palm.

“We can take ’em,” the lifeguard told Maddox.

Maddox glanced over his shoulder.

Three other bruisers in black uniforms with blue shoulder tabs walked into place behind them. Two held batons. The middle bruiser drew a saber as the First Marshal had carried. Maddox recognized the man: the Blue patrol chief with a thick face and outrageous sideburns.

“What are we going to do?” the lifeguard asked Maddox. The man had his own baton, but that was it, and he was beginning to look desperate.

Maddox had secreted his blaster in his quarters. He’d learned that only the highest officers possessed those. He did have the monofilament blade in his boot top. He hadn’t seen any other such knives here. The monofilament blade had a chain of molecules along the edge and could literally cut anything from steel to diamonds to titanium.

“I’ll tell you what you can do,” the Blue patrol chief called out. “Knock Maddox on the head, and we’ll let you live.”

Maddox’s lifeguard licked his lips as if considering the idea.

“Hold your ground.” Maddox thereupon pivoted and charged the Blue patrol chief.

“Spread out,” the chief shouted.

His goons each took a step forward, raising their batons. The Blue patrol chief set himself in a sword-fighter’s crouch, the saber glittering in his hand.

“Take the lifeguard, you idiots,” the Blue patrol chief shouted at the forward three. “Let’s do this together.”

Maddox didn’t bother glancing over his shoulder to see what his lifeguard was doing. Instead, he shifted to the left.

The goon there had gathered himself and now swung his baton. Maddox ducked and slashed with the monofilament blade. It sliced through the hardened plastic chest protector, cutting through uniform, skin, fat, musculature and bone.

The goon screamed, throwing himself backward, out of the range of the terrible knife.

Maddox pivoted and met the Blue patrol chief’s saber with his knife. There should have been a clink of steel. Instead, the monofilament blade sliced through the saber, shocking the patrol chief as the cut half clattered onto the deck.

Maddox lunged like a fencer, piercing the patrol chief’s chest protector, stabbing the other, missing the heart, but opening the man up good just the same.

Did that cause the unwounded goon to slow down? It might have. Maddox used the other’s hesitation to jump and slash the man’s throat and then backpedal from the spray of blood.

“Help!” the lifeguard shouted.

Maddox spun around to face that way.

The lifeguard blocked an enemy baton with his. A different goon conked the lifeguard on the head. It made the lifeguard sway. Two batons struck together, sending the lifeguard crashing onto the deck.

By that time, Maddox was charging the forward three, doing it silently. The first looked up and might have tried to scream. The monofilament blade slashed open his face, going through as if it were made of oil. A part of the face fell away.

That terrified the last two. Batons dropped as they turned away to run. Maddox slew one before he could get far. The last one he chased down. The man sprinted like crazy, but Maddox proved faster. He decided he needed to end this type of thing here and now, and he slew that guard from behind so there would be no survivors.

He’d have to find the first guard he’d slashed in the chest.

When he came back to help his injured lifeguard, though, Maddox found himself facing three musclemen with blasters aimed at him.

“Drop it,” the middle guard said.

Maddox threw the monofilament blade point first into the deck. It slid to the hilt before stopping.

“What the—?” the left-hand guard said, as he stared at the monofilament blade.

“Don’t sweat it,” the middle guard said. “We’re taking it and him to the First Marshal. Come on, you, let’s go.”

Maddox thought about it and shrugged, wondering how the First Marshal’s guards had learned about this so quickly. Had they known about Blue’s ambush ahead of time? If so, this could go badly indeed.

-8-

Maddox sat on a metal chair in a small chamber. There were no goons or guards in here with him. A hatch opened, and the First Marshal entered alone.

The First Marshal wore his same scarlet uniform, fur cloak, jackboots and had his monocle screwed in before his right eye. He held the monofilament knife in his left hand.

The hatch shut.

The First Marshal turned to a bulkhead and slid the knife into it, leaving it there, as he’d set it at the correct angle.

When the First Marshal turned back to Maddox, there was a blaster in the man’s thick right hand. It was aimed at Maddox’s chest.

Maddox waited.

The First Marshal studied him closely before saying, “Who are you?”

“The Red patrol chief, First Marshal.”

The man shook his head, although the blaster never wavered. “Who are you really? Where do you come from?”

“Crowder III,” Maddox said.

“Where did you get that?” the First Marshal said, using his free hand to indicate the monofilament blade sticking in the bulkhead.

“It’s a relic,” Maddox said. “I killed a man in Retek for it.”

Retek was the capital city of Crowder III, the home planet of the Crowder System. Maddox had discovered the information through his studies.

“You claim to have escaped from the holding cells?”

“Yes, First Marshal.”

Each ship on the trans-Lucifer run brought involuntary colonists for the outer moons. There, they worked in the deep mines if they were unlucky or the sex depots if they didn’t want to die after a mere six months of mining.

“How did you escape yours?” the First Marshal asked.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather hang on to the information, as it may come in handy soon.”

“And if I decide to burn you instead?” the First Marshal asked.

“I’m betting on your curiosity winning out over your bloodthirstiness.”

“You really mean betting that I overcome my better judgment,” the First Marshal said.

“I…why against your better judgment?” asked Maddox, curious.

“Who’s sitting in the chair, you or me?”

“I am, and I retract my question, First Marshal.”

The coarse-faced man nodded sharply, although he didn’t seem any happier. “Where did you really get the knife?”

Maddox looked away, unsure about the intensity of the First Marshal’s stare. He’d read a little Crowder System history, but there was too much about the setup and star system that didn’t make sense.

Maddox eyed the other again, and he could see his death in the man’s gaze. In fact…the First Marshal looked frightened, but in a controlled way. That blaster could fire at any second. Maybe he should try the truth and see what happened.

“I…ah, appeared here several weeks ago,” Maddox said.

“Appeared on the ship?” asked the First Marshal, catching on quick.

Maddox nodded.

“Where did you originate then?”

“From a laboratory on the fourth planet of Omicron Nine,” Maddox said. “Well, I guess that’s not exactly true. I was in a derelict mothership before coming here—”

“Hold it, right there. What’s a mothership?”

Maddox blinked. He’d started this and might as well go all the way with it. “A space carrier holding fighters, strikefighters from where I come from,” Maddox said.

“You were on a derelict mothership before appearing on the Autocrat?”

Maddox nodded.

The First Marshal’s good eye stared through the monocle. “How exactly did you transfer from the mothership to the Autocrat?”

Maddox cleared his throat. “Would you believe me if I said two humanoids in black suits and helmets left the mothership through a swirling blue opening? After they disappeared, I dove through the opening before it disappeared. But instead of going wherever they did, I landed here, on the head of the Red patrol chief that I accidently slew.”

“You must have fallen quite a distance. Yes, that explains why his neck bones shattered and pierced his flesh.”

“You remembered,” Maddox said.

“Oh, yes. Describe these two humanoids.”

Maddox did so, and as he did, the First Marshal’s gun-hand tightened around the blaster as his features closed in. He was breathing harder as Maddox finished.

“I see you’ve heard of such black-suited humanoids,” Maddox said.

“The Haunted,” the First Marshal said in a whisper. “I’ve heard of them, yes. How you’ve come to learn the high knowledge about the servants of the Yon Soth—” The First Marshal ceased speaking, perhaps having witnessed Maddox’s sudden stiffening.

“You’ve heard of Yon Soths?” the First Marshal asked lightly.

“I have. Do you also call them Old Ones?”

The First Marshal stepped back as if his knees lost the power to hold him. He sagged against the closed hatch, breathing heavily.

Maddox wondered if he could surprise the First Marshal, jump up and grab the blaster before the other could fire.

It was possible the First Marshal sensed that. With a surge, he straightened and pushed off the hatch. He squinted through the monocle at Maddox.

“I should take you to the Inquisitor,” the First Marshal said slowly, as if talking to himself.

“Do you believe me then?” Maddox asked.

“Who sits in the metal chair?”

“I do,” Maddox said. “But you and I realize that’s no longer the point. Are we searching for Yon Soth tech when our patrol boats go out?”

The First Marshal sneered. “Do you think to use your guile on me? Do you think I’ll share the little high knowledge I possess? I’ve slaved and fought for years to gain my rank and position. I seek glory and riches like anyone. Soon, now, I will take command of the Autocrat. I have the will, and I am acquiring the means. Your magical knife might be the final edge I need.”

Maddox nodded. “I’m guessing you’ll pass it off as something of Yon Soth manufacture.”

“Is it?” the First Marshal asked hopefully.

“No,” Maddox said. “Where I come from, we make it ourselves.”

“Can you manufacture more of them?”

“No.”

The eye tightened against the monocle. “I’ll kill you if you don’t.”

Maddox shook his head. “I don’t know how to make those. If I could, I would.”

“Ha! It’s as I thought. This is Yon Soth technology.”

“Yes,” Maddox said, deciding on a new approach. “I’d hoped to keep that secret, though.”

The First Marshal nodded knowingly. “You’re being wise, patrol chief. I might even let you live if you continue to cooperate as you’re doing.”

Maddox said nothing to that.

“You don’t believe me about my letting you live?”

“I do, First Marshal.”

The coarse-faced man nodded, and he opened his mouth, laughing silently like a hyena. “Tell me more about the servants of the Yon Soths, the black-suited humanoids. How do they maneuver between levels?”

“Well…” Maddox said, wondering what the term levels really meant.

“Don’t try to tell me you don’t know,” the First Marshal said, suggestively raising his blaster.

“It occurs to me,” Maddox said, “that if you shoot me, you’ll lose your source of new knowledge.”

“I see. You desire torture, is that it?”

“I’m thinking more along the lines of a partnership,” Maddox said shrewdly.

“Not bloody likely,” the First Marshal said.

“What did you say?”

The First Marshal scowled. “Damn. Did that give it away?”

“Who are you?” Maddox said.

“I ought you burn you for asking that.”

“Do you know about Earth?” Maddox said.

“Don’t you mean: do I know about Albion?”

Maddox frowned until he realized that Albion was an old name for England, or the same land in any case. No, the First Marshal had used the word bloody in the English manner. What did that mean or indicate?

“All right,” the First Marshal said. “Come with me. Maybe it’s time to meet him.”

Maddox stood.

The First Marshal withdrew the monofilament blade from the bulkhead, opened the hatch and started out.

Maddox followed: eager to meet him, whoever he was, and find out if there was a means to getting back home.

-9-

As Maddox followed the First Marshal, three heavy bruisers came up behind him. They wore black uniforms with an armband with a white circle and red trident symbol. Each of them hefted a steel baton.

“Try to attack me,” the First Marshal said without turning, “and they’ll beat you down like a mad dog.”

“I understand,” Maddox said.

“I hope you do,” the First Marshal said.

Maddox wondered about the comment, and he decided it was to confuse him. Why would the First Marshal bother, though? Maybe to keep him from putting the pieces together.

So, what did he know? The high knowledge spoke about Yon Soths. That had to be critical. The Yon Soths are a link to home, Maddox realized. The massive dreadnoughts out here searched for Yon Soth technology. The people here spoke strangely accented English. The Old One tech was near a molten moon named Moloch and a Jovian gas giant called Lucifer. The names couldn’t be a coincidence.

I wish Galyan were here. Maddox shook his head. The encyclopedic holoimage wasn’t going to give him the answers. He’d have to figure out what he could on his own. Moloch…he’d heard the name before. It was an ancient god, a vile one, if he remembered correctly. Yes. Certain ancients had sacrificed children to Moloch, attempting to gain power. Lucifer was another name for Satan. Didn’t Lucifer mean “light bearer” or “morning star?”

So, what did he have? English-speaking humans in a place that knew about Moloch, Lucifer, Albion and Yon Soths, Old Ones with Cthulhu-like powers. That just meant fantastic powers that often operated like magic. Magic was another way of saying you had no idea how the thing operated. As in, he had no idea how the black-suited humanoids made the openings that transferred them—

Maddox snapped his fingers.

The First Marshal halted and whirled around, staring at him.

The bruisers behind Maddox crowded nearer, ready, it seemed, to start swinging their batons.

Maddox looked up and was only confused for a moment as a new thought occurred.

“Why did you snap your fingers?” the First Marshal asked.

Maddox ignored the question, asking one of his own. “When was this star system first colonized?”

The First Marshal scowled. “No questions. No snapping fingers. Follow quietly, or my guards will give you a good thrashing to remind you who’s in charge.”

Maddox nodded. “Yes, First Marshal.”

The burly man eyed Maddox, muttered under his breath and then started down the corridor again.

One of the bruisers shoved Maddox from behind. “Watch yourself, or you’re a dead man. Got it?”

Maddox did not reply, although he kept following the First Marshal. He wouldn’t snap his fingers again. But he should continue his line of reasoning. He’d asked the right question. When had…whoever colonized this star system? He was starting to believe he was definitely in the same universe and not in some other part of the multi-universe. Balron the Traveler had been a unique individual. The Erill had also come from outside this plane of existence. But Maddox no longer believed he’d crossed one getting here. The Yon Soths—the Crowder System was likely in the Milky Way Galaxy, but just as likely in an area of it he didn’t recognize.

Maddox rubbed his jaw. He hadn’t actually seen the identity of the black-suited humanoids. He didn’t know if they were Ardazirhos or not. He didn’t think he’d moved into a different time either. Time travel—he didn’t even know if it was possible or not. Occam’s razor said that the simplest explanation for a thing was likely the right one.

Thus, it was more likely he’d crossed a long distance rather than gone backward or forward in time or jumped into a different dimension. If this was the same galaxy—

When he had a chance, he needed to really study some of the distant stars. Surely, if this was in the Milky Way—

What if I’m on the other side of the galaxy from the Orion Spiral Arm?

Maddox exhaled. He didn’t want to think about that. Starship Victory had once made an incredible jump of ten thousand light-years. He’d gone through a star gate before to face an awakening Yon Soth and had crossed an immense distance in a moment.

Okay, okay. Maddox rubbed his hands together. He was beginning to think this was doable, solvable. Someone had brought humans here, or humans with fantastic technology had jumped here. It seemed more likely that Yon Soths, or a single Yon Soth, had brought people to the Crowder System. Perhaps the Old One had used a spaceship or some other device. The ship or device had exploded. That, at least, would explain the drifting pieces around here. It would also explain why the dreadnoughts were sending patrol boats out to collect the pieces. Someone took those parts and did what with them? Tried to reassemble them?

Maddox halted in disbelief.

One of the bruisers shoved him from behind, propelling him forward.

Maddox kept himself from turning around. He’d forgotten about the bruisers. These people were collecting Yon Soth pieces just like Ludendorff and the Iron Lady were from the mantle of the fourth planet at Omicron 9.

That had to be the connection, the Yon Soths and the pieces of their technology.

Did that mean the black-suited humanoids were behind this? The First Marshal had called them “the servants of the Yon Soths.”

Maybe the black-suited ones used the blue portals to check up on the miners or collectors. What did that imply about Ludendorff? Did the professor unwittingly follow orders from aliens? How likely was it that the Iron Lady would be part of that?

Maddox had a feeling that his grandmother would be horrified at such a thing. She’d been used once too often that way.

Maddox grinned, wondering for a moment if the Iron Lady was using the black-suited humanoids in some fashion. She was good at turning enemy intelligence agents—

Like Clarice and Iris, Maddox realized.

Maddox stepped more lively as he followed the First Marshal. His appearing here no longer seemed quite so capricious or chance-driven. The collecting here matched what Ludendorff had done. So, the likeliest explanation was that Yon Soths, using servants, or others aware of the pieces, were collecting the pieces to achieve a goal.

Among the people he knew, who might have the knowledge to do such a thing?

As Maddox followed the First Marshal, he began to wonder if Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers was the culprit. It was starting to feel that way. Or if not her, then maybe the Spacers and that could mean Venna the spy.

-10-

Maddox stopped as the First Marshal halted before a sealed hatch.

The big man in scarlet uniform and fur cape glanced back at him. He seemed nervous, with sweat shiny on his forehead. Finally, the First Marshal faced forward again and raised a hand to knock on the hatch.

Before he could, the hatch slid open to reveal a monstrous man. He was at least seven feet tall, maybe more, and was immensely wide and thick. He wore a white t-shirt, overalls and heavy boots. The giant held out a massive hand.

The First Marshal meekly withdrew his blaster and put it there.

The giant studied the blaster and then squinted at the First Marshal. “Bring him,” the monstrous man said, slurring the words. “But your guards must leave.”

The First Marshal nodded, motioning to the three. They turned and left.

The giant tucked the blaster away, pulled out a small device and ran it up and down the First Marshal. Nothing happened. “You,” the giant said to Maddox. “Step here.”

Maddox did.

The giant ran the device up and down him too. And nothing happened.

“Okay,” the giant said. “You go ahead of me. Any tricks and I kill you.”

The First Marshal indicated that Maddox should precede him.

Maddox stepped over the threshold, wary and wondering if this might be the heart of the Autocrat. He decided that was ridiculous. This seemed like an out of the way storage facility, not the heart of the vessel.

Maddox advanced through a corridor, with the First Marshal and giant following him. The massive bruiser reminded Maddox of someone, and then it came to him. He was like Dagobert Dan on Tortuga, the man who’d become Dag and given him one of the toughest fights of his life. That had been two missions ago. Was this another connection to home? He hoped so, and this solidified the idea that Lisa Meyers was behind all this.

The corridor led into a large chamber.

“Keep going?” Maddox asked.

“Go,” said the huge guard.

Maddox realized that the First Marshal still possessed the monofilament blade. That was interesting, and interesting the detector hadn’t spotted it.

Maddox stepped over a new threshold, entering a place with many low machines humming and purring. He had no idea what they did. Farther away, a small man sat behind a circular table. He presently had his back to them and typed upon controls. There was something vaguely familiar about the small man.

“Far enough,” the giant said.

Maddox halted. The First Marshal stopped as he reached him. The ogre of a guard loomed behind them, his breathing audible.

Now the man amongst the circular controls turned in a swivel chair. He had narrow shoulders and short dark hair that stood straight up as if someone had just frightened him. He wore dark sunglasses that completely protected his eyes from any stray light, including from the sides. He was clearly of Southeast Asian heritage—

“Vint Diem,” Maddox said, stunned as he recognized the Spacer.

“Captain Maddox, I presume,” Vint Diem said in an amused tone.

The First Marshal stared at Maddox in wonder and accusation.

Maddox grew aware that the First Marshal gripped the handle of the monofilament blade, although the knife was still hidden in a pocket.

“Please don’t try it,” Vint told the First Marshal.

The First Marshal pretended to be confused.

“I’m referring to the monofilament blade you’re holding,” Vint said.

“Lord—”

“Quiet,” Vint said, as he held up a small hand.

The First Marshal froze. Was that an involuntary action? Had Vint paralyzed him with some power or device? It appeared so.

“Remove the knife from him, Chlothar,” Vint said. “But don’t touch the blade. It’s dangerous and will destroy your hand. I’m surprised you missed it.”

“Beeper didn’t go off,” the giant mumbled. “I didn’t know.” He gripped one of the First Marshal’s forearms and dragged it up, carefully prying the monofilament blade from his frozen grip.

“Bring it here,” Vint said.

Chlothar did so, dutifully laying the knife on the round control table.

Without touching it, Vint studied the blade thoughtfully, finally looking up. “Take the First Marshal to the pain booth. It’s time he had a refresher as to the results of insubordination.”

From behind his frozen lips, the First Marshal groaned.

“Now, now,” Vint told him. “You earned this, you know you did. Clearly, you planned to assassinate me with the knife, and sacrifice the captain if you thought it expedient. A short refresher in the pain booth, and you’ll be ready to continue your assignment. Unless you wish for me to reassign you elsewhere?”

The First Marshal did not speak. Perhaps he could not.

“Take him to the pain booth,” Vint said. “Give him…thirty minutes exposure.”

A grinning Chlothar easily picked up the First Marshal, carrying him out of the chamber of low humming machines.

That left Maddox alone with Vint Diem sitting at the circular controls.

“Surprised to see me here?” asked Vint.

Maddox nodded.

“Bewildered possibly?”

“Of course,” Maddox said. “So…where are we?”

“In the center of the Autocrat,” Vint said.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, but I’m not ready to let you in on the secret. Besides, it’s too delightful seeing you futilely flail for knowledge.”

“You’re the same Vint Diem I found—”

“Come, come, Captain,” Vint said interrupting. “You captured me once, but you’ve never been able to do it a second time. There’s a reason for that.”

“You use Yon Soth technology?”

Vint smiled, sitting back in his chair.

“How long have you known about me?” Maddox asked.

“I presume you mean being here,” Vint said. “Two days now.”

“Why didn’t you send for…?” Maddox refrained from finishing the thought.

“I heard everything you told the First Marshal about how you arrived in our neck of the woods. I suspect you decided just now to hold onto your tidbit of information that I might not have. It’s good Intelligence practice doing that, but it’s not going to help you with me or help you return to the Commonwealth. You must realize we’re a long way from there.”

“And you’re a long way from cheating at the craps table in the Carlota Casino in the Vega System.”

“True, true,” Vint said. “I also possess refined abilities, I mean compared to the old Vint Diem.”

“You’re referring to the implants or modifications a Spacer adept acquires?”

Vint nodded.

Spacer adepts had Builder-type implants in their bodies, allowing them peculiar abilities like transduction or hyper-induction. Vint used to be able to move small objects with a telekinetic-like power, such as dice at a craps table. The fingernail-sized power pack in his body energized the modification that could achieve the effect.

“Are you a Yon Soth agent?” Maddox asked.

“You’re so very curious, aren’t you, Captain? I’m curious, too, about how you…” Vint smiled wider, exposing more teeth.

Maddox made a guess. Vint had almost asked him how he’d gotten here. No. That wasn’t right. If the Spacer had listened to the First Marshal, he should have heard everything Maddox had told the man. What more did Vint want to know?

“So, ah, what’s the next move?” Maddox asked.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” Vint said. “You can go to the pain booth and receive an hour’s worth of treatment, or you can willingly take an injection of truth serum. Which will it be?”

Maddox shook his head. “I choose neither.”

“Ah, well, the pain booth it is then,” Vint said. “Chlothar, take him there, won’t you?”

Maddox whirled around as the giant—who had silently returned from his chore, doing so amazingly quickly—advanced upon him.

-11-

Maddox made a fast calculation. He might be able to defeat Chlothar in a hand-to-hand fight. He could also lose, as the giant looked as if he could take vast physical punishment. Would Vint give him the opportunity to attempt such a contest? Maddox did not think so. The Spacer adept would use his modifications, perhaps attacking his nervous system and paralyzing him while Chlothar punched him in the face. The giant might not know to quit, either.

“Wait,” Maddox told Vint, as the giant advanced upon him. “On second thought, I’d prefer the truth serum.”

“A wise choice,” Vint said. “Chlothar, halt.”

The giant did not but continued to close with Maddox.

Maddox began backing up.

“Chlothar,” Vint said, angrily. “I order you to halt. Or do you want to enter the pain booth?”

The giant spread his huge hands, chuckling evilly at Maddox, pretending not to hear Vint.

“Stop!” whispered Vint, as he held up both palms, aiming them at the giant man.

Chlothar shuddered and began blinking. He rubbed his forehead, shook it and did it again as if to dislodge a fly crawling across his face.

“Cease movement,” Vint whispered.

Chlothar looked at the small Spacer. “You…you in my mind. Why you do this to Chlothar?”

“I told you to halt,” Vint said, sounding winded.

“But you order him to pain booth,” Chlothar said. “I want to watch him cry and beg. It funny. Let Chlothar watch, eh? Why don’t you let me watch First Marshal piss his pants? Why you summon me here, and now I can’t have any fun with puny man?”

“What did I tell you to do?” Vint said.

Chlothar rubbed his forehead. “You hurting me in my mind. Stop hurting me before I get mad.”

“Obey me, and the pain will stop.”

Chlothar’s massive shoulders slumped and his face dissolved into something near tears as he quit advancing on Maddox. “You never let me have any fun.”

Vint slumped back in his chair, panting.

Chlothar began to pout. “I wanted to watch First Marshal beg when you summon me. I was ready to start laughing. Now, I miss that.”

“All right,” Vint said sharply. “Go watch the First Marshal cry. Come back when you’re done—and bring the truth serum with you.”

Chlothar’s idiotic face broke into a grin. “Yes. I obey. I go watch. Then, I return with serum. You going to inject it into him?” Chlothar pointed at Maddox.

“Yes.”

“Ha-ha. That will be fun to watch, too. It a hoot when they make funny faces.” Chlothar turned and hurried away.

“Autistic retard,” Vint muttered. “He’s a pain in the ass, but he obviously has his uses.”

“Did you create him using cryptobiolin, trilenidil and macrospentol?” Maddox asked.

Vint stared at him before nodding. “Oh, yes, I see. You suspect I work for Lisa Meyers. She did that before to more than a few unfortunates, making an elite force. You’re thinking I did the same thing here to Chlothar.”

“It seems like the most probable answer,” Maddox said. “I met a few of her Merovingians. Some lost the majority of their mental acuity.”

“They all do, but not all of them are idiots like Chlothar. Surprisingly, their diminished brainpower acts as a shield against induction.”

“Might it be an aftereffect of the drug therapy that makes your induction harder?” asked Maddox.

Vint stared at him again. “You’re right, of course. It’s the cryptobiolin’s influence, giving the brain cells a shield of sorts against neural attacks. Why would a moron be better able to resist neural paralysis than a normal man? You cut to the chase, and do it with scant evidence. I congratulate you, Captain, on your powers of observation and reasoning.”

“Why are you here?”

Vint’s toothy smile grew. “Haven’t you deduced the reason yet?”

“I mean other than vacuuming whatever Yon Soth parts you can from the debris field,” Maddox said.

“You think that’s what we’re doing?”

“What else could it be?”

“You’re guessing, and you’re off. But I don’t blame you, as you lack a few critical facts. Now, or in a half hour when Chlothar returns with the truth serum, I’m going to do some questioning. You’re going to relate exactly how you stumbled onto this…what did you call it before? Ah, yes, a colony world. You wondered how long it’s been here.”

“I still wonder.”

“I’m not going to tell you,” Vint said. “Nor am I going to let you know who first brought people out here.”

“Do all Spacers know about this place, or just those working for Lisa Meyers?”

“Tsk, tsk, Captain, I’ve answered enough of your questions—what are you doing?”

Maddox had silently berated himself for almost missing an opportunity. Vint had spent himself against Chlothar—the Spacer still breathed harder than normal, and the name-calling had been another clue. Vint was waiting for Chlothar to reappear with the truth serum. Maddox had no intention of allowing anyone to inject him. His agreeing was simply a ruse to buy time. As he considered possible plans to achieve his goal, the method came to him.

“I asked you a question, Captain. Answer me.”

Maddox had started moving closer to Vint, trying to do it nonchalantly. He put his hands in his pockets to appear less threatening. The right closed about the brass knuckles he’d taken from the underground complex on the fourth planet of Omicron 9. Maddox had forgotten all about them.

“Stay back,” Vint said, reaching for something under the control table, a weapon, most likely.

Maddox removed the brass knuckles and threw them hard and fast.

Vint shouted in alarm, and the brass knuckles struck his forehead, knocking him back.

Maddox launched himself at Vint, trying to cover as much ground as he could.

No doubt realizing he couldn’t get to the weapon hidden under the controls, Vint held up his palms, muttering under his breath. Maddox felt a tickle in his mind, and it seemed as if he slowed down.

“No!” Maddox shouted. Was it the intuitive sense bequeathed him from Balron the Traveler? Was it the Erill spiritual energy he’d absorbed before? Whatever it was, it allowed Maddox to shrug off the neural assault upon his brain.

Maddox leaped onto the control table.

“I’ll kill you for this,” Vint said, with blood welling from the middle of his forehead where the brass knuckles had struck.

Maddox kicked the Spacer in the head, doing it as hard as he could with a steel-toed boot. There was a cracking sound, and Vint went limp as he slid down in his seat.

Maddox dropped to his knees on the tabletop and clutched the Spacer’s head in an arm-lock. “Listen to me,” he said.

Vint Diem continued to slacken in his seat.

Maddox released his headlock hold, staring at the Spacer. The sunglasses had fallen off, revealing solid black eyes instead of whites and pupils. Not that it mattered anymore, because Vint Diem, the mercenary Spacer spy, was quite dead.

-12-

Maddox dragged the pliable corpse from the circular control table and began searching, seeing if he could find anything of use on the Spacer.

This was a balls-up goat-rope, a cluster-something-or-other in the old vernacular. At least, he wouldn’t have to endure the truth serum, and he didn’t have worry about Chlothar showing up immediately. Maddox wondered if he should rescue the First Marshal from the pain booth, but rejected the idea even as he thought it.

He had a greater loyalty to Meta and Jewel first and Star Watch second. This was some kind of secret colony world, possibly created by Yon Soths. Through the little Maddox knew about the Old Ones, it might be the project of a lone Yon Soth for reasons he couldn’t fathom. Of course, maybe it was a secret Spacer colony. The Spacers had always known far too much about greater space than any other group of humans. Where had the main body of the Spacers fled to these past years? They had done a bunk after the Grand Fleet smashed their armada of saucer ships at the Forbidden Planet. That planet had held a Yon Soth, definitely linking the two locations.

Finding nothing useful on the dead Vint Diem, Maddox went to the control table and kept opening drawers and forcing compartments. He reclaimed his monofilament blade and found the blaster Chlothar had taken from the First Marshal. There were computer slates, miscellaneous items—

What was this?

Out of a bottom compartment, Maddox picked up a glowing cube. Was this anything like Half-Life from last mission, the construct Ludendorff had fashioned under Balron’s influence?

“Hello?” Maddox said, seeing if that would activate the thing or cause it to talk.

The cube’s sides began to swirl with multi-colors, but it did not speak.

“What are you?” Maddox said, trying again.

“…Unit,” the cube said after a delay, doing so in a computerized monotone.

Maddox’s heart rate increased. This could be what he needed. “What kind of unit?”

“…Unit,” the cube said again.

“Are you a computing cube?”

“Negative.”

“Can you activate anything?”

The cube began to pulse with colors.

“Do you belong to a Yon Soth?” Maddox asked.

“Negative,” the cube said.

“Did you belong to Vint Diem?”

“I detect that Vint Diem has deceased.”

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Maddox said.

“Vint Diem has deceased,” the cube said again. There was a pause before the cube spoke once more. “Is this then the beginning of Operation Glorious Kent?”

Maddox scowled at the cube. He’d heard that name before. He snapped the fingers of his free hand. Glorious Kent was the name of Lisa Meyers’s ship, the one holding a Builder in stasis. Long ago, as in centuries, the Glorious Kent had gone down into a Jovian planet with a Builder mothership, there to deal with the Jotuns, aliens native to Jovian gas giants. In that dim era, Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers had been an aide to the Builder—

With his holding hand, Maddox clutched the cube harder. “Are you hoping to revive a Builder? Is that what Operation Glorious Kent is about?”

“That is classified information,” the cube said.

“What’s your name?”

“That is classified information.”

“Is Vint Diem Lisa Meyers’s liaison to this…this place?”

“Yes.”

Maddox stared at the cube. Could that be it or was the cube lying? “This is a Lisa Meyers operation?”

“I should not answer you.”

“Is Lisa Meyers working with the Spacers?”

“That is classified data,” the cube said.

Damn cube—then inspiration struck Maddox. “I need to tell Lisa Meyers that Vint Diem is dead. I need to tell her immediately.

“Lisa Meyers is not in the Crowder System,” the cube said.

“I know that, but I have to reach her. It’s imperative I reach her immediately. She’ll want to know that Vint Diem is dead.”

“I concur.” The cube swirled with more intense colors. “There are no more scheduled shifts for the next three months. Is this an emergency?”

“Hell yes, it is,” Maddox said.

“Then you must go to Moloch and activate the beacon.”

“Where on Moloch is the beacon?”

“That is classified information. I hereby retract my previous suggestion. I am debating about going into sleep mode.”

“Are you supposed to tell Lisa Meyers anything in case of Vint Diem’s death?”

“I have already sent an emergency message to the Fleet Leader. I am sure she is sending agents. I give it a high probability that you were a witness to Vint Diem’s death. Thus, you must remain here until the Leader’s people arrest you.”

“Yes,” Maddox said, “I’ll do as you say.”

“Excellent,” the cube said. “I am therefore entering sleep mode. I will reactivate when Lisa Meyers holds me.”

The swirling colors ceased, and the cube immediately lost heat.

Maddox pocketed the thing. He had to get out of here, and he had to reach Moloch and find…whatever the cube had been talking about.

“Right,” Maddox said. This was beginning to make sense. Lisa Meyers was likely involved in something that would awaken her Builder. Was Ludendorff helping her?

Maddox shook his head. He had no idea. Whatever the case, he had to get off the Autocrat, and do it fast and without raising any alarms.

A fierce grin stretched his lips. He had a goal, a possible means of returning to the Commonwealth, maybe the Orion Spiral Arm, at least. From there, he could get home. But he wouldn’t do it standing around. It was time to get going.

-13-

Maddox hurried out of the chamber, down the corridor, and then pressed a switch, leaving through the hatch he’d entered not so long ago.

So far, he hadn’t seen any sign of Chlothar or the First Marshal. Luckily, the three guards that had brought him here with the First Marshal were also gone as ordered.

Chlothar would return to the chamber in maybe twenty minutes, but he wouldn’t find Vint Diem, or not for a time, anyway. Maddox had stuffed the dead Spacer in a closet, believing it would confuse the altered soldier.

Maddox moved briskly, wanting to run but not daring to. He was the Red patrol chief. Red Team wouldn’t be up for another eight hours. Thus, he and his team members were forbidden to leave the Autocrat. He was going to have to break a few rules, though, if he hoped to reach the beacon on Moloch before the Leader’s agents found and captured him.

He entered a common area of the ship, passing members of Purple Team as they left the debriefing area and headed for the chow line. After eating, they would go to their barracks chamber and catch some shuteye. Green Team should have already launched, entering the debris-asteroid-dust field and hunting for tiny Yon Soth tech pieces.

Maddox checked a wrist chronometer. The last of Green Team would have left the launch bays…twenty minutes ago, he guessed.

Each team used the same patrol boats. Thus, the boats were in constant use. Naturally, some broke down and some were in repairs. That mandated a few extra patrol boats in the hangar bay to switch out with those having problems.

If he waited the eight hours for Red Team to go, Chlothar would surely report that Vint Diem was missing. The First Marshal might also be back at his post by then. The man might want to contact him for a variety of reasons, none of them good. And lastly, the Leader’s agents would be searching for him or would have already located him more likely.

If he were going to reach the moon Moloch, he would have to do it this shift, during Green Team’s run.

With a shrug, Maddox changed his direction, heading for the launch bays. He wore red tabs on his uniform. He shrugged again. If he was lucky, he’d run into a Green team member before he reached the bays. If he wasn’t lucky, he was going to have to improvise on the run.

Remember Meta and Jewel, Maddox told himself. If you fail, you’ll never see them again. Jewel will never meet her father.

That thought hardened Maddox’s resolve. He knew what that was like, as he’d never met either his mother or father. It had been hard for him growing up. What would it be like for Jewel?

Maddox had to concentrate and relax his features, as he could feel himself scowling. This was more difficult to achieve than usual—the relaxed attitude a good agent needed while working undercover. He wanted this too much, and it showed on his face and maybe in his demeanor.

Breathe, he told himself.

Maddox inhaled deeply, held it for several steps, and let it out. He repeated that several times. It started to make him lightheaded, so he quit. If he thought about what he was trying to do—

“You,” a man said.

Maddox decided to bull it through and ignored the person as he kept walking.

“I’m talking to you,” a man said.

Maddox did not turn around.

“Red bastard!” the man shouted.

Maddox saw others look up. Okay. He couldn’t ignore the man anymore. Thus, he stopped and turned slowly.

An ugly-looking scoundrel sauntered toward him. Two others had the scoundrel’s back. The tabs on their jackets denoted them as Blue team members. He noticed that each wore spiked rings on their fingers, spikes that would help in a fistfight.

“I want to talk to you,” Ugly Man said.

“Sure,” Maddox said. “I have a—”

“Where were you going in such a hurry?” Ugly Man asked, interrupting.

“You’ve been holding it for too long,” one of the others told Maddox.

They each laughed in a mean way as if it was Joke 14, the favorite of the prison yard.

Maddox’s nape hairs stirred. Something was happening behind him. He glanced back and saw a red-faced, swollen-eyed and panting First Marshal minus his monocle and fur cape.

That’s bad luck. How did he get here so fast? I thought he was supposed to be in the pain booth for thirty minutes. Has that much time passed already?

Pain marred the big man’s features and extended blotches of sweat soaked the armpits of his scarlet uniform. He looked angry and vengeful, maybe even crazy.

The three bruisers of earlier were with the First Marshal and seemed determined as all four of them headed at him.

A quick glanced showed that no one else was in the area now. The others must have scattered, sensing a brutal beat-down about to commence.

“Time to take a number,” Maddox said to no one in particular.

“You scheming bastard!” the First Marshal shouted, pointing at Maddox. “You’re going to pay for what happened to me.”

Maddox’s shoulders slumped. This wasn’t going to work the way he’d planned it. He wasn’t going to be able to sneak into the launch bay and slip outside in an extra patrol boat. What did that mean? Should I give up? Should I let Lisa Meyers’s people take me?

A grim recklessness took hold. Maddox shook his head to rid himself of it, but the recklessness wouldn’t go away. He knew it had everything to do with Jewel, with Meta’s words before he’d left home. He would make it back. He would no matter what he had to do, even if that meant—

“Oh, to hell with it,” Maddox said.

“Hey!” Ugly Man shouted at the First Marshal. “We have first dibs on the asshole. Stand back and wait your turn.”

“Go to Hell,” the First Marshal shouted, with spit flying from his mouth. “Do you see my rank? He’s my prisoner. Mess with me, and I’ll kill you too.”

The Blue team members glanced at each other.

As they did, Maddox took out the blaster he’d stolen from Vint Diem’s control table. It was ironic that it was the First Marshal’s blaster. With grim resolve, he burned down the three Blue team members. Then, he turned and burned down the shouting First Marshal and his three running bullyboys.

Maddox felt coldhearted and sick as the last of them thudded onto the deck, dead, with smoke trickling from their corpses. But if he hadn’t just done that, he would likely never get back to Earth and his little Jewel. He’d done what he had to because…

“I love you, baby,” Maddox whispered. Then, shoving the brutal act from his mind, he began to sprint down the corridor. He was getting off the Autocrat even if he had to gun down the entire crew. He was going to try this like a Throne World superman. If he failed—

“Not an option,” Maddox whispered, as he raced for the launch bay.

-14-

Maddox’s further success with his brazen attack might have had something to do with Vint Diem’s passing. Vint might have been the Inquisitor the First Marshal had spoken about earlier and run certain security systems. No alarms had gone off after the shooting. No security personnel ran through the corridors to arrest the shooter.

It was likely that no one had reported the assault yet because no one had watched security screens to see it. Maddox’s thoroughness—and the possibility that no one had yet discovered the dead—was giving him a break. The break wouldn’t last long, though. He had to get off the Autocrat as soon as possible, certainly before any of the Leader’s agents reached the dreadnought.

He wouldn’t have killed the First Marshal, his bruisers and Blue team members, but he told himself this was a Yon Soth-created colony system. Old Ones were poison to humanity. Any machine rebuilt from their technology—

He couldn’t allow himself to fail for any reason. The Yon Soths had long ago declared war on the Commonwealth. This might be the most important mission he’d ever been on. He couldn’t know that, but he told himself it was the case.

Maddox’s intuitive sense rang like an alarm in his mind. If someone saw him running down a corridor with a blaster in hand—he put the blaster away. He was two turns from the main launch bay—right. Although it grated against his need for speed, Maddox forced himself to slow down to a brisk walk. That was difficult, and he started to sweat. He used a sleeve to wipe the sweat from his face. He did it with the other sleeve, too. Then, he shed the jacket, relocating the monofilament blade to a boot top, and tossed the jacket to the side. He was still too hot and couldn’t stop sweating. He realized the blaster had gone with the jacket, but at this point, it was just incriminating evidence.

Maddox shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. Sheer desperation had driven him. He felt soiled killing the six, like a murderer.

Maddox shook his head again. He was a soldier in Star Watch. He had a duty to perform. A soldier-spy couldn’t allow himself to have pity.

“Stop it,” he whispered. “Get your head in the game, pal.”

Maddox nodded, turning a corner and slowing down to what seemed like a relaxed walk. Tension coiled in him, but that stress didn’t reach his face or body language. He swallowed down fear of failure and forced himself to exude nonchalance. It might have been his greatest performance to date.

Red patrol chief Maddox strolled into the main launch bay, gazing serenely at the personnel. He did not wear his jacket uniform and thus did not show red shoulder tabs.

He headed for a patrol boat waiting on launch skids. The bay crew had removed all the hoses. No one on Green Team had taken the boat as an extra.

The patrol boat was a sleek craft, normally using a three-man crew. It had guns, tracking gear and retrieval pods. It was twice the size of a Star Watch shuttle.

How am I going to get it to the launch point? Maddox wondered.

There were too many people in the main bay for him to go berserk with the monofilament blade. Besides, this close to the Autocrat, the main dreadnought laser cannons would just pick him off once he launched. No. He had to convince the launch jocks to release the patrol boat so he could disappear into the debris-asteroid-dust field and head to Moloch.

He moved straight for the deck chief, a small man with short red hair and a crisp gray uniform. The deck chief studied a slate, tapping it from time to time.

“Chief,” Maddox said, as he neared.

The deck chief turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you out of uniform? You know that’s against regs.”

“I do,” Maddox said, looking down. “I, uh, missed the call, running here without getting my jacket first.”

“Missed it, you fool,” said the deck chief. “You’re almost thirty minutes late. No one misses like that.”

“I know, I know,” Maddox said. “I…”

“Wait a second,” the deck chief said. “You’re not thinking about going out after the others, are you?”

“I already have two demerits to my profile,” Maddox whispered.

“Ha! Then it’s going to be three now. You’re going to the pain booth for this for sure.”

“Chief,” Maddox said, looking up.

The deck chief stared at him and then scowled. “I know you. Maddox, you’re Maddox, the Red patrol chief. What are you trying to pull?”

Maddox almost drew his monofilament blade to kill the man. He couldn’t do it, though. The people he’d slain to get here—he didn’t know what was wrong with him. Maybe it was the Yon Soth-ness of this place. Maybe it was something else messing with his mind. He couldn’t pinpoint it and couldn’t afford to take his eye off the mission.

“Chief—” Once more, inspiration struck. Not knowing how it could help, but believing it would, Maddox pulled the cube out of his pants pocket. “Do you see this, chief?”

The deck chief stared at it and then Maddox. “What are you trying to pull?” All the power had gone out of his voice. The man seemed stricken.

“You know what this is, right?”

“I know enough,” the deck chief said. “Yeah. You can go through. Why didn’t you give me the code word? Why risk showing identification like that?”

“There’s trouble coming behind me,” Maddox said. “I need time. Can you give it to me?”

The deck chief glanced at the cube again, and he rubbed his lips with his wrist. “Put that away. I get it. You’ll get your time, too, but hurry, man. This is risking too much.”

Maddox had no idea what had just happened, but he was playing a hunch, using his new intuitive sense. He didn’t like it this way, as it was too mystical and ethereal. But right now—

“Hurry,” the deck chief said. “The longer you dillydally—”

Maddox slapped the chief on the shoulder and hurried to the waiting patrol boat. What was the cube anyway, and why did that identify him as someone important?

He was operating far too much in the dark, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. Now, he had to slip away from the Autocrat and see if he could reach the moon Moloch without anyone chasing him down.

-15-

The patrol boat sledded through the launch tube. Inside, Maddox gritted his teeth, enduring the acceleration as his body sank against the A-couch as the boat shot out of the Autocrat.

The massive dreadnought dwarfed his puny craft. And out here like this, the Autocrat wouldn’t need a vessel-killing laser cannon, but a mere point-defense gun to obliterate Maddox’s boat.

Fortunately for him, no such order came through. No one even targeted him. The control operator must have seen the patrol boat on the bridge screen. Perhaps he called upon the deck chief, perhaps he didn’t. Regardless, nothing bad happened to slow the patrol boat from leaving the near-vicinity of the Autocrat.

Maddox moved off the couch, strapping himself into the piloting seat. The cabin was small, barely able to hold the usual three crewmembers.

He wore a pressurized spacesuit complete with helmet. With practiced ease, he maneuvered the patrol boat toward the beginning of the debris-asteroid-dust field.

The Autocrat and the other dreadnoughts in the Lucifer gravitational area never ventured into the dense debris field. The patrol boats had thick cryston hulls made for such dust and debris.

As Maddox’s boat plunged into the field, gravel and ice particles pinged off the hull, letting him know he’d entered the initial zone.

Reluctantly, he decreased speed.

Fifteen minutes later, he entered zone two and had to reduce speed yet again or risk a hull breach.

The pinging increased, and the louder noises made him wince inside his helmet.

He maneuvered the patrol boat through several billion cubic kilometers of space that possessed a few million cubic kilometers of dust and debris. The asteroids weren’t the problem, as they were big enough to avoid.

Approximately ninety minutes later, he entered the thickest zone as he headed for Moloch. The patrol boat crawled through the area.

Then, his comm board lit up.

Maddox knew that was bad, as few radio messages would make it through the radioactive dust and debris. Mostly, the comm produced star static. The comm board lighting up told him someone was using a powerful transmitter, possibly a special transmitter.

He clicked the receive switch.

“Maddox,” a woman said. “Can you hear me, Maddox? I know you’re here. You’re not going to escape the system. You’re not—” Static garbled the rest, making it unintelligible.

With a shrug, Maddox clicked off the receive switch, sitting back thoughtfully. Had that been Lisa Meyers? He couldn’t be sure. It might have been Venna the Spacer spy he’d met last mission on the Library Planet.

Maddox reached down and unzipped a pocket in his spacesuit. He pulled out the cube. It was dull and inert. He thought about replaying the message to see what would happen but decided against it. If the cube reactivated, it might summon the Leader’s agents.

He figured whoever was in charge over there had found a dead Vint Diem and a dead First Marshal. They might have put it together. Had they searched for the cube and found it missing?

Through his visor, Maddox studied the cube. Who had fashioned it? Why did it remind him of Half-Life? Was it just the cubical shape and that it could talk, or was it something more, something his intuitive sense had picked up?

Maddox put away the cube, zipping shut the pocket. He changed course with the patrol boat, picking up velocity. The cracking, pinging sounds against the hull increased dramatically. He had no intention of leaving the field, so he could afford the cryston hull to take greater damage than normal, as the patrol boat would never leave Moloch—or not with him aboard.

During the past few weeks, Maddox had never bothered learning much about the moon. It was time to start. He went to a different seat and used the boat’s sensor array. Star static made it hard, but the huge target also made it easier. Usually, the sensors searched for the tiny pieces of supposed Yon Soth tech. Moloch was a gargantuan target in comparison.

It turned out that Moloch was roughly the size of Mars, with a diameter of 6,560 kilometers. The constant grinding of the tectonic plates and the volcanic activity had turned the surface rock into a hot soup like molten lava. Maddox realized he couldn’t possibly land on the surface and survive. His patrol boat would sink and then become liquid metal slurry. So how could there be a beacon on the moon? And how could he reach the beacon?

He had another question. What would happen after the beacon gave its alarm? How could that save him?

Maddox sighed. They were all damning questions to which he had no answer. He did know that the radiation in the debris-asteroid-dust field came from the gas giant Lucifer and that not even the cryston hull would protect him if he maneuvered too near the Jovian planet.

With a few taps, Maddox turned the boat’s forward screen onto Moloch, seeing the outline of the moon through the dust and debris.

He rubbed his chin next, thinking. The patrol boats were space vehicles. Could he even take this one down onto Moloch, even if he had a place to land? He certainly couldn’t parachute or space drop onto the moon in any meaningful way, other than to fry himself.

Maddox stood and returned to the pilot seat. With a furrowed brow, he wondered if his intuitive sense had led him wrong. Last mission, Balron the Traveler had refined the intuition in him by killing him and then having him revived. With the new intuitive sense, Maddox had helped Balron get back to his dimension. Later, he’d used the new sense against Emperor Trahey and the others. The new sense had only been half-effective against them, though.

Maddox unconsciously rubbed his regrown arm, the one he’d lost in the duel against—

“No,” Maddox whispered. “That’s not the issue.” He had to use what he could in order to get back home to Meta and Jewel. At this point, soul searching wasn’t going to help anything. He’d made his play; now, he had to ride it out to the end.

Resolved once more, he returned to the sensor board, studying Moloch as the patrol boat continued its way through the debris field to it.

Moloch’s gravitational pull caused a constant rain of dust and debris upon it. The lack of any atmosphere meant the particles hit the molten lava, adding to the heat to a fractional degree.

Maddox squinted at the screen. There was another patrol boat out there. As he saw it, a proximity alarm blared in his craft.

Maddox manipulated his board, searching for the cause of the alarm, as it hadn’t come from the other vessel. He saw it then. A missile had left the other patrol boat—

“Damn it,” Maddox swore. That wasn’t another patrol boat like his, but an E-boat, an attack craft.

Yes, he remembered now. A few of them orbited Moloch. His second day out as patrol chief, he’d received a warning ping from one of the E-boats. Afterward, he’d veered well away from Moloch. Upon his return to the Autocrat, he tried to learn more. It turned out that E-boats were taboo to speak of on the Autocrat. Maddox had never been able to learn more. Now, he knew they could launch missiles, and this missile was gliding through the dust and debris, heading straight for his boat.

-16-

Maddox thought hard and fast. He had two guns that fired 20-mm shells. Would the shells go far enough to hit the missile? The intervening dust and debris would probably knock the shells off course. So, that was out as a solution. What did that leave him?

Seconds later, Maddox zipped open a pocket on his spacesuit and took out the inert cube. If it reactivated, it might summon the Leader’s agents. It might not be able to do so through the dust-debris-asteroid field, though. It was worth the risk, right? He debated several seconds more and then replayed the message from earlier.

It had no effect on the cube.

It must have not been Meyers then. That was interesting and useful information—if he lived long enough to use it.

“Hey,” Maddox said. He ceased speaking and opened his faceplate to try again. “We’re in the debris-asteroid-dust field, heading directly for Moloch,” he told the inert cube. “An E-boat has launched a missile at us. The missile is working through the debris. Once it’s close enough, I imagine the antimatter warhead will destroy our boat. We’ll both be destroyed, and Lisa Meyers will never learn about what happened to Vint Diem.”

After a painful and tense two seconds, the cube began to pulse with color.

Maddox exhaled with relief. Now, though, he expected, came the hard part.

“Repeat your message,” the cube said robotically.

Maddox did so.

The cube pulsed with greater power, and the sensor board activated and pinged. “You are correct concerning a missile,” the cube said. “This is indeed an imperative emergency.”

“Did you cause the sensor board to do that?” asked Maddox.

The cube didn’t answer, but said, “You must avoid the missile, thereby saving our craft.”

“That’s a good idea,” Maddox said, realizing he’d likely have to trick the cube in ways he didn’t yet understand. Perhaps if he played upon the cube’s sense of superiority…that would be wisest. “So, uh, how exactly do you propose I avoid the missile?”

“The answer is elementary. Thus, I do not understand why you are asking me.”

“Consider it a test,” Maddox said.

“That makes no sense.”

“Answer anyway,” Maddox suggested.

“This is tedious and silly. You need to maneuver out of position as you launch a decoy emitter to take the boat’s place.”

“I doubt that’s going to work, as I would think the E-boat has better sensors than we do.”

“Negative,” the cube said. “And that is an ill-considered statement. The patrol boats search for…tiny pieces. The E-boats track possible intruders, meaning spaceships near Moloch. Launch an emitter before it is too late and then maneuver out of the missile’s present path and probable proximity of warhead blast.”

Maddox did just that, launching a tiny emitter that sent out pulses that mimicked the patrol boat. He then carefully maneuvered their small craft, sliding away. He wanted to increase velocity to get well out of any blast radius. That, however, might cause the E-boat’s sensors to track the patrol craft more easily through the dust and debris.

Maddox found himself sweating. He wanted to close the faceplate and activate the suit’s conditioning unit. He did not, though, because he hoped the cube would impart more data.

Minutes passed tensely.

The missile did not accelerate for obvious reasons, as the dust or debris might pierce its armored hull. As Maddox watched on the sensor board, the missile serenely continued on its present course as the patrol boat maneuvered out of the way.

The comm board began to blink.

“Do not answer that,” the cube said.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Considering your previous statements, it is clear that you’re subhuman. Does that also make you an idiot? No. I do not believe so.”

“Subhuman, eh?” Maddox said, intrigued by what exactly the cube meant by that. Maybe here was a way to get more information out of the cube. “How do you mean?”

“It is obvious, as you lack any refinements.”

Maddox thought about that. “Do you mean that I lack any Spacer modifications?”

“That is a crude way of putting it,” the cube said. “But yes, that is the thrust of my statement.”

“So…you’re suggesting that Spacer adepts are a superior form of human life?”

“Is that not clear to you?” the cube asked. “The Spacer adepts, as you call them, can achieve feats that no subhuman could possibly replicate.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Maddox said. Then, a sly look entered his eyes, which he hooded immediately on general principle. “I count two sets of improved humanity, no, there are three sets if one counts the Methuselah People modified by the Builders. The others are the Spacer adepts, as you’ve said, and the New Men created by Methuselah Men Strand and Ludendorff.”

“That is primitive reasoning, but essentially correct,” the cube said.

“I see. That means you know about the New Men.”

“Yes, yes, that is an obvious correlation from my words. But it will not be germane to either of us if the warhead’s detonation causes us to cease existing.”

“A primitive point,” Maddox said, mimicking the cube, “but important nonetheless.” He went to the third seat and from there raised the boat’s forward hull shield. He then jumped to the pilot seat and aimed the boat toward the coming detonation. After that, he waited at the sensor panel.

Three minutes later, the explosion showed as an intense flash of light. Then, overloaded, the sensors blanked out.

Maddox waited, hoping the sensors would come back online. He did not physically feel any EMP, heat or x-ray and gamma rays penetrating the boat. It would seem that the small craft had been far enough away from the blast to survive.

“I no longer sense the emitter,” the cube said.

“How about any new missiles headed at us?”

“Negative.”

“Negative there aren’t any new missiles coming or negative you do not possess the capability to sense them?”

“No more missiles have launched,” the cube said.

“That’s a relief.”

“I agree. Thus, I will now reenter sleep mode.”

“Uh…” Maddox said. “I doubt that’s smart.”

“You dare, even knowing that you’re subhuman, to attempt to instruct me?”

“I’m figuring you want to reach Lisa Meyers in one piece, right?”

“We have already agreed on this. Thus, it is meaningless to state it again.”

“Uh-huh,” Maddox said. “The problem is that…being subhuman, I have no idea how to land on a molten moon in order to reach a beacon that doesn’t exist.”

“Despite your low human status,” the cube said, “there is no good reason to make such faulty statements.”

“That’s interesting to me. How do you know what I know?”

“I am not referring to that,” the cube said. “I refer to Moloch. The moon possesses rich minerals and radioactive fuels. Why do you think E-boats patrol it?”

“I have no clue.”

“But I have just given you clues. Oh, never mind. It is clear you’re lower in your sub-humanness than I’d originally realized. There are several refining stations on the surface.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Are you a dolt to say this to me?”

“Now, you’re being stupid. How can refining stations float on molten lava?”

“Oh, I see your confusion,” the cube said. “You are correct: such stations cannot float on molten lava. Instead, mobile crustal platforms do. The stations and refineries stand upon the crustals. The bigger platforms use magnetic impulse to anchor them into place.”

“And these…crustal platforms don’t melt in the lava and bubbling heat?”

“Does that not seem obvious to even you?”

“Right,” Maddox said, wondering if he was putting it on too thickly. “Which crustal platform holds the beacon?”

“That is classified data,” the cube said.

“Sure, you told me that before,” Maddox said. “Well, if I can’t find the beacon, if I don’t have a way to pass the patrolling E-boats, you and I will be destroyed, and Lisa Meyers will never receive the critical data of Vint Diem’s passing.”

“I do not believe this. You have given me a stimulating problem in logic. Let me compute.” The cube fell silent as the multi-colors swirled on its sides. “I have the answer. You will have to contact and surrender to the E-boat. When you do, you will hand me to the captain of the boat. He will contact the Leader, I’m sure. I have decided that is the wiser course.”

“It may be wiser,” Maddox said. “But I’m not doing it.”

“What nonsense. It will be easy to achieve.”

“Let me restate. I’m not going to contact any E-boat.”

“Why not?” asked the cube. “Do you not wish Lisa Meyers to receive the pertinent data?”

“Only if I can tell her myself,” Maddox said, “and only if the Leader’s agents are not present.”

“That is a quixotic statement. Lisa Meyers is preeminent.”

“I know that, but I wish to personally please her and without any outside interference like the Leader’s agents.”

“Come now, a subhuman like you desires all this? Do you not realize how arrogant you sound?”

“I disagree it’s arrogant. I want to please Lisa Meyers so she’ll let me become one of her Merovingians.”

“The altered soldiers?” asked the cube. “No, no, that is a self-aggrandizing wish, which should be contrary to your devotion to her. And I do not understand why the Leader’s agents bother you so.”

“They do.”

“Bah. I can comprehend the desire to become a Merovingian, as it is logical, as they are quite strong. But if you love Lisa Meyers—as all her servitors must—would you rather not see her win in this case?”

“I do love her dearly,” Maddox said. “That’s why I want to serve near her. I want to show her that I’m totally devoted.”

“But that is easy to achieve. Simply contact and surrender to the next E-boat. Later, I will inform Meyers of your great devotion to her.”

“That sounds good,” Maddox said. “I’m not sure I can trust you, though.”

“That is absurd. I am a multipurpose Techno-7 mini-cerebrum.”

“So what?” said Maddox.  “That means nothing to me.”

“Subhumans,” the cube said softly, as if cursing. “Listen, I am incorruptible. That is why Lisa Meyers put me in Vint Diem’s care. She did not fully trust him. Now that he has ceased, she must learn about it at once. Yes. You were there. Do you know how Vint Diem died?”

“I wish I could help you in that. I came in and found him dead.”

“I am not convinced in the matter, meaning it is possible you are lying.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about you,” Maddox said. “A Techno-7 computer, my ass. Do you think I’m that gullible?”

“Now, see here. There is nothing to be gullible about. I am a Techno-7 multipurpose mini-cerebrum.”

“A cerebrum is a brain,” Maddox said. “You didn’t figure I’d know that, did you? You’re a machine, a computer, which means you can’t be a brain.”

“This is infuriating,” the cube said. “I am indeed a Techno-7 mini-cerebrum. I have great intellect, which is to say, I am an electronic brain. You are insulting me with your apish chatter.”

“Apish, huh?” Maddox said. “Now, you’re the one trying to insult me.”

“I have not tried. I have done it. Your intellect barely reaches as high as an ape’s.”

“Screw you,” Maddox said with heat.

“What does that mean?”

“Some intellect you are,” Maddox said. “It means I’m pissed at you.”

“I would sigh with frustration if I could, as a subhuman like you might understand that. Clearly, Vint Diem was many times your superior. I believe now that you did not kill him, as I do not think you could have achieved such a thing on your best day.”

“See. I told you I wasn’t lying about killing him.”

“Yes. That is true. But you must cease thinking I am a liar. I take such statements and innuendoes as a grave insult.”

“You know what?” Maddox said. “Maybe we should let Lisa Meyers sort this out.”

“Ah…now I perceive your tactic. Perhaps you have a modicum of animal cunning, which would put you higher on the scale of intelligence than a mere ape. I do not see it as true intellect, however, such as Vint Diem or I possess, or what Lisa Meyers exudes. Very well, this talk is useless. I have decided to take you down to the beacon. We will use an emergency portal there, as waiting for the Leader’s agents—tell me, subhuman. Who will come to pick us up if we fire the beacon?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

“I believe you,” the cube said. “Yes. You can leave matters to me. Patch me through to the nearest E-boat.”

“No way, José.”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t trust you anymore. I’m beginning to think you’re trying to trick me.”

“Maybe you have more cunning than I realized. Very well, I am weary of this near-senseless chatter. Listen, then, subhuman, and do exactly what I say.”

-17-

It proved slow and exhausting work piloting the patrol boat through the dust and debris circling Moloch, and at the same time, keeping out of sensor detection of the E-boats and radar stations on the crustal platforms on the surface.

As the P-boat neared orbital space, Maddox began to detect a surface increase in comm traffic. That surprised him. As far as he knew, none of the dreadnoughts like the Autocrat had any contact with Moloch. Nor had Maddox seen any evidence of people traveling from Moloch to the Jovian gas giant or the other way, either.

So, why all the refineries on Moloch? Why all the comm chatter down there? What did the E-boats really protect on the surface to such a degree that they would immediately launch an antimatter missile at a lone intruder heading for the moon?

The moon held a so-called beacon. The cube had alluded to the beacon being able to create a portal. Maddox knew about portals, or star gates, having used one once to go from a nexus in the Omega Nebula to one in the Sagittarius Spiral Arm. In the other place, he’d faced Ghar-Yon-Tog, an Old One of Old Ones. If Meta hadn’t used the gate after he did and rescued him when he’d taken grave injuries, he would have died that day. Jewel would never have been born. It had been a ghastly experience, and since then, he dreaded the Yon Soths. They were supposedly from the dawn time of the universe. Each was a monster with primordial powers and energies that dwarfed that of mankind. A Yon Soth’s intellect was cold and evil. Even while asleep, they were dangerous—or such had been the case with Ghar-Yon-Tog.

In its history, Star Watch had faced three Old Ones so far. One of them had been Ghar-Yon-Tog. Another had lived on the Forbidden Planet, working with the Oldest One. The last had been a moronic Yon Soth living under the nubs of ancient pyramids on the fourth planet of the Omicron 9 System. It might have been in league with Balron the Traveler. Star Watch had destroyed it the same way as the one on the Forbidden Planet, raining asteroids on it from space.

Could a Yon Soth live on Moloch? Could one be alive on or inside Lucifer? Or did the portals or star gates on Moloch direct power and other substances to a waiting Yon Soth elsewhere?

It might even be that Lisa Meyers used Yon Soth tech, and none of the ancient creatures lived around here or were connected to it. Meyers had a knack for finding olden alien technology and using it ruthlessly against Star Watch.

Why, two missions ago—

“Are you ready?” the cube asked, breaking into Maddox’s thoughts. The pulsating cube was on the console of the piloting board.

“I am,” Maddox said.

“Then punch it. The window will only last for another six minutes.”

Maddox manipulated the flight controls. The patrol boat exuded thrust as it nosed downward toward the molten moon. The small craft rapidly increased velocity.

The comm board began to light up as people attempted to hail them.

“Two of the hails come from different E-boats,” the cube said. “The other three hails are from surface sensing stations. Clearly, they have all seen us. Soon, the E-boats will launch missiles.”

“You told me we would be faster,” Maddox said.

“That is imprecise, but I am unsurprised you failed to understand the differences. There is an extreme risk factor in what we are attempting.”

“You said there was a thirty-eight percent chance this would end in our destruction.”

“I know exactly what I said, and I stand by it.”

“Thirty-eight percent isn’t extreme,” Maddox said.

“It is a highly unacceptable number as the outcome is so extreme, my extinction. If there were a thirty-eight percent chance I would lose two percent power, that would be meaningless. But an end of my existence—I consider a five percent chance as too high.”

“You’re risk-averse,” Maddox said.

“What kind of nonsensical statement is that? Are you attempting to deflect me from making obvious conclusions? If so, you have failed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maddox said.

“That is another lie. As we have spoken, I have been analyzing the situation. I now realize that you are attempting subterfuge. For example, you do not love Lisa Meyers.”

“How can you possibly say that?”

“Because you must realize that we will not transfer to her fortress,” the cube said.

“Where will we transfer then?”

“This is funny in the truest sense of humor.”

Maddox stared at the cube, wondering if it was malfunctioning. “Have you activated a distress call yet?”

The colors swirling along the cube’s sides began to slow and grow duller.

Maddox thought furiously, trying to figure out what was happening to the cube. He had too little data, though. The cube had suggested earlier that if they dove down at a station, a beam would reach out and transfer them elsewhere. But that was not happening, and the patrol boat was picking up velocity as it dove toward the surface.

Maddox hurried to the sensor station. After a few manipulations, he discovered that three E-boats were converging on his moon-plunging craft. He spied a blinking red light and tapped more. There was a target lock on the patrol boat from the nearest surface sensor station floating on a crustal.

He went back to studying the three E-boats. Three were in range for fast space-to-air missiles, which according to the cube, the E-boats possessed. Why hadn’t any of the three boats launched at them? By the E-boats’ violent maneuvering…were the E-boats attempting to intercept them instead of just destroy them?

A new and opposing thought struck. Did the E-boats protect the moon from intruders, or did the E-boats protect the main ships like the Autocrat from things on Moloch? Why would it have launched on the patrol boat then? Could there be more going on here than he knew? Could spies on dreadnoughts like the Autocrat attempt from time to time to reach the moon for nefarious reasons? If any of that was true…

Maddox stared thoughtfully at the cube. Maybe the small device—the Techno-7 mini-cerebrum—was craftier than he’d realized. He’d believed he’d been tricking it. Maybe in reality, the cube had been tricking him. Maybe the cube had never wanted to surrender to the E-boats, but work past them to get to the safety of the moon. That would imply Vint Diem—No! If the cube had been helping Vint Diem, why had it been locked away in a bottom drawer?

Why didn’t I see that sooner? The cube played me for a fool.

“Damnit,” Maddox said.

The new possibility would explain why the surface stations did not fire upon the patrol boat. It did not explain why the E-boats hadn’t fired yet. But if he was right about this, why hadn’t the surface stations fired upon the E-boats?

Maddox snapped his fingers.

Maybe it wasn’t separate sides but competing allies working for the same boss. Allies working for the same boss but with different agendas or with varied hoped-for outcomes in terms of percentages.

Was this a Yon Soth operation then or a pure Lisa Meyers thing?

At the piloting board, Maddox went with a gut decision. He steepened the dive at the surface refinery, the one that supposedly held the beacon. With a few taps, he increased thrust yet again. He was going ram the refinery and try to take it out. The lack of an atmosphere meant it wouldn’t slow the P-boat down or burn it up with greater atmospheric friction.

The cube was on the piloting console. Its sides swirled with color, doing so faster and more brightly.

“What are you doing?” the cube said.

“What does it look like?”

“That is not an answer, but a question. For once, answer me directly.”

Maddox laughed. “I’m ramming the beacon.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“You infernal subhuman, I instructed you to cease with the questions. You do not realize what you are doing?”

“I disagree. I know exactly.”

“If you continue in this insanity, you will alert the servants.”

Maddox kept his face immobile. His intuitive sense had told him something critical would happen if he did what he was doing. Would that something help or hinder him, though?

“Who exactly are the servants?” Maddox asked.

“Cease your plunge to oblivion. I will—” Abruptly, the cube stopped radiating colors and fell silent.

At the same moment, a faint blue anomaly, like a hole in the universe or reality, appeared in the middle of the cabin in the air. The opening swirled faster and intensified in blueness, becoming darker.

Maddox didn’t hesitate, as this was what he needed. He jumped from his seat, racing at the opening. He didn’t have time to grab the cube on the piloting board. Instead, as the P-boat plunged at the surface refinery on the crustal platform, Maddox dove out of sight, disappearing into wherever the portal entrance led.

-18-

Maddox dove through the portal, but this time, he didn’t fall. Or if he did fall, he didn’t sense it. He went through the portal and it seemed as if he drifted in limbo.

It took him a moment before he managed to turn around. He didn’t see any opening, or anything different. He was in a limbo of deep blue color. There was no sense of distance—that abruptly changed as brightness emanated from the other direction.

Maddox turned again, and he squinted suspiciously. He saw an operational chamber full of consoles with Ardazirho aliens sitting at each. The wolfish aliens seemed intent upon their work. Many looked at screens. Others manipulated fervently. Still others looked up as if listening to someone.

Maddox noticed a bigger Ardazirho in a black and tan uniform. The alien had gray in his muzzle and carried a swagger stick, motioning with it as he spoke. Then, the officer turned and stared directly at Maddox—or so it seemed to him.

The big Ardazirho used the end of the swagger stick to point at him. Those at the consoles looked up, also staring at Maddox. All the while, the chief Ardazirho spoke rapidly but silently.

Maddox faintly heard a siren and spied flashing red strobe lights in the console-filled chamber.

The chief Ardazirho punctuated his words with jabs of the swagger stick, each time pointing at Maddox.

The captain had the feeling the others saw him on a screen, or something akin to a screen. Clearly, sight of him agitated the chief Ardazirho. Did that mean the alien knew him, or simply knew that Maddox should not be where he was?

It was maddening not knowing. The Ardazirhos he’d met last mission at the Library Planet had been called the Gatherers. Were these Gatherers as well or a different branch of Ardazirhos?

Maddox waved to them and shouted for their attention.

The team of Ardazirhos worked feverishly at their consoles. The big chief began to stride up and down the rows and aisles of consoles, glancing at each. He stopped at one and began to berate the tech. Did the other say something the chief hated? The chief grabbed his swagger stick with his free hand and yanked with the other hand, pulling a gleaming rapier from the wooden sheath. He plunged the rapier into the neck of the offending tech. Then, the chief pushed the twitching and bleeding offender from his seat and sat there himself. The chief began to work the console controls.

As he did, the scene faded from Maddox’s view. The logical deduction was that the offender had something to do with the captain seeing what he had. The chief must have rectified that—

Maddox began to tumble, and then he dropped. He spied an opening below, and he fell through, crashing upon a floor or deck, twisting in pain, although it wasn’t as bad as last time when he’d killed the Red patrol chief.

Maddox twisted onto his back, staring at the opening as it began to close. Then, it shut, and he looked up at what appeared as a familiar bulkhead.

He frowned. The impact had no doubt blunted his ability to think. Finally, it came to him. I’m on the mothership, the abandoned one I was on before.

Maddox groaned as he sat up in a hunched position until the pain of his crash began to subside.

What did the chamber full of Ardazirhos indicate?

Maddox frowned thoughtfully. Clearly, the Ardazirho aliens possessed a mechanism to use portals that allowed them to move vast distances. In the Crowder System, some had called the Ardazirhos servants of the Yon Soths.

Did that mean all Ardazirhos supported the Old Ones, or just a specific group of them?

Maddox scowled. This was maddening not knowing all the facts, or not even enough to come to a reasonable conclusion. He was starting to think, however, that Yon Soths were not directly included in whatever the portals, the Autocrat, Ludendorff’s two spies and the strange colony system were involved with.

It felt rather as if the Ardazirhos, possibly Lisa Meyers, the Spacers and even Ludendorff were all trying to use Yon Soth technology for their own ends. Did they work in concert, or vie against each other in this?

“Enough,” Maddox said, the sound of his voice motivating him.

He worked up to his feet and began to rotate where he stood. He felt the barest of thrums under his boots, which indicated an engine powering the mothership.

Maddox froze as a terrible thought struck. Could he be part of a Ludendorff experiment? Might he be in a machine that created hallucinations?

Scowling, Maddox decided to kill Ludendorff if that was the case. He bent his head in thought and tried to use every sense he possessed, searching for a feeling of unreality to all this.

That did not happen. His intuitive sense told him this was all too real. Nothing else said it was false except for the possibility of a sick joke.

Someone screamed.

Maddox’s eyes snapped open. The scream came from—Maddox spun around and hurried in the direction of the sound. He no longer had the blaster. He had the monofilament blade in his boot top, however. He also had his wits and fists.

He broke into a run, listening intently.

After ten minutes of maneuvering down various corridors and finding nothing, Maddox slowed to a walk. He tested the air, and this time, it felt real and substantial. It struck him that he was on a different mothership, or spaceship, from last time. He hadn’t come upon any evidence yet that this vessel launched strikefighters.

One thing was true. This was one damn big ship.

He finally reached a lift, pressing a control. The lift opened. He stepped within and noticed the instructions above the panel in script he didn’t recognize. This did not look like any Star Watch vessel he’d been on before. No—Maddox laughed, although there was no humor in it. This felt like a star hauler, a huge and so-far empty one.

He rode the lift to the bridge corridor. He hurried down the corridor, reaching the main hatch to the bridge. He tried to enter, but the hatch wouldn’t open.

Looking around for an emergency override, he did not find one. Finally, Maddox drew the monofilament blade, cutting out an opening, pushing the metal away. He slithered through and blanched at a macabre sight. Skeletons with old rags for uniforms were at each station, including the captain’s chair. There was a stale odor to the bridge, an odor unlike the rest of the ship. Yes… It felt as if someone had scrubbed the rest of the vessel clean but forgotten the bridge and the skeletons here.

Maddox moved warily to the captain’s chair. He touched the skeleton. It crumbled into pieces.

Looking around at the antiquated devices, he had the feeling they’d been made somewhere in the Commonwealth, but fifty to sixty years ago. But if the ship was that old, why did the engine still run? Could the hauler still be operational?

He went to a sensor panel, sweeping the bones and rags out of the way. He manipulated, and the board activated with a faint beep.

His heart began to beat faster as he tried various controls. Finally, the old screen blossomed into life, and Maddox viewed the stars.

He didn’t recognize any constellations, so he adjusted the controls more. He sat on the seat, which crinkled with age as part of it disintegrated under him.

He stood, wiping the debris from the back of his pants. If the hauler was so old, why did the sensors still function? That made no sense.

He input faster and began to run a program as an idea struck. After fifteen minutes, he believed he recognized a triple star system ahead of the ship. It was…ah, he remembered. It was QV Telescopii. The system contained the closest black hole to Earth, 1,120 light-years from the Sun. He’d read a brief on it before, although he couldn’t remember where or when.

“A black hole,” Maddox said thoughtfully.

The black hole was no doubt significant to what had been happening to him. He was sure of it. Why that was so, he had no idea other than that black holes were rare and interesting.

Did the Gatherers, the Ardazirhos, use black holes? Did the Yon Soths or Lisa Meyers use them? No… He didn’t think the black hole had to do with Lisa Meyers, as the hauler was at least fifty years old. Meyers hadn’t been around then, as she’d been in stasis in the Glorious Kent.

It seemed more likely the black hole had to do with a Yon Soth. As he thought about it, this transferring across great distances seemed more like Yon Soth tech or possibly Builder tech.

Maddox laughed once more, this one with a modicum of humor. He believed he was finally closing in on some truth. The black hole in the QV Telescopii Triple Star System, a mere quarter light-year from the haunted ship—

“The Haunted,” Maddox said, recalling he’d heard that not so long ago. Right, the First Marshal had said that. The man had been talking about black-suited humanoids, likely Ardazirhos.

Maddox froze, as he heard a scream again, a loud one. It came from the corridor just outside the bridge.

Jumping up, drawing the monofilament blade, Maddox raced for the hole in the hatch. The scream had come from a woman’s throat. This time, she sounded terrified.

-19-

Maddox squirmed through the opening in the hatch he’d created with the monofilament blade. The woman screamed once more. It was a rich full sound, full of terror and hopelessness, and it came from around the corner.

It triggered a reflex in him to race to any woman’s aid. Even as he began sprinting, he realized it could be a trick. He slowed, and it was a fatal error—for her.

He rounded the corner cautiously, just in time to see a blaster beam burn through a personal shield. Ludendorff had once possessed such a thing. A woman had the shield. It shimmered, creating a blue outline around her. The beam punched through the blue protection and devoured her midsection.

The woman moaned in dread and agony as she folded toward the wound, her legs collapsing under her. Something flat tumbled from her hands and clattered against the floor.

Maddox squinted.

A black-suited humanoid farther down the corridor, wearing an enclosed helmet, ceased beaming. Another behind the first clicked a tubular device. Both of them backed away, their beamers aimed at Maddox. Neither of them fired at him, however.

Maddox stared at the mortally wounded woman lying on the deck. She wore tight-fitting garments and had long blonde hair. The thing on the deck beyond her—

A beam from one of the weapons burned it. Then, the two black-suited humanoids turned and began to run, their suits making crinkling noises.

Maddox did not race after them. The creatures had beamers. He had a knife. In this situation, that was no contest. He did hurry to the shot woman.

She maneuvered painfully onto her back, with her face twisted in agony. Maddox recognized her. It was Clarice, one of Ludendorff’s two sexy assistants. She moaned and writhed on the deck, her bloody hands trying to stanch the flow pumping from her horrible stomach wound.

Maddox knelt beside her even as he stared down the corridor. He clutched his monofilament blade. Had the suited beings been Ardazirhos? He was almost certain it was so.

“Clarice,” he said, looking down at her.

The agony on her face lessened as she opened her eyes. Did she see him?

“Clarice, it’s me, Maddox.”

Her mouth moved, but no words came out.

He leaned lower to examine the wound. It looked mortal, but maybe he could help. He ripped off his shirt, bunching it up, pressing it against the horrible wound.

She cried out in pain.

He took her hands and put them over the wadded shirt so she pressed down against the hole in her upper stomach area.

“How can I help you?” he said.

She was staring up at him as sweat beaded her face. She’d begun to breathe harder, panting, biting her lower lip.

He saw her nametag, the same one she’d worn back on the fourth planet of Omicron 9. It said CLARICE in block letters.

“Maddox,” she managed to say.

“I’m here,” he said, touching her left shoulder.

“I’m dying,” she whispered.

“How did you get here?”

“Looking for…” she whispered.

“Do you have any drugs I can give you to ease the pain?”

“…Looking for you,” she whispered. “Professor sent me. He…he needs help.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Maddox said. “We’re worrying about you.”

She arched her back and cried out in agony. The sweat beading her face increased.

Maddox felt useless as growing anger pulsed in him. Why had the suited aliens shot her like that? It was merciless and brutal.

Then, he felt Clarice staring up at him.

He forced a smile.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered, her words weakening.

He stroked her damp forehead. She was in obvious pain and terror.

“Not like this,” she whispered. “Not so soon.”

“I know,” he said. “Hang on. Fight. It’s not as bad as you think.”

“Looking for you,” she whispered.

“You told me.”

“Bring you…bring you back,” she whispered.

“How?” he asked, feeling worthless asking a dying woman but knowing that Jewel and Meta were waiting for him at home.

“Device,” she whispered. “They…destroyed the device.”

His gaze went to the burnt thing on the floor, the one the black-suited aliens had destroyed with their beamers.

“What is this place?” he asked.

Clarice stared up at him, and the light of life dimmed in her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Hang on. Fight it. The will to live can keep you living longer than you can believe. By that time, I’ll have found some medicine.”

She might have nodded the slightest bit. After that, her breathing became shallower and faster.

Maddox held one of her bloody hands.

Tears filled her eyes. “I want to live,” she whispered.

He squeezed her hand.

“Such a waste,” she whispered.

Maddox nodded.

She opened her mouth, maybe to breathe more deeply, maybe to say something. Her mouth hung open like that.

Maddox became aware that she wasn’t breathing. Then, her body slowly relaxed.

Maddox stared at her, with a mix of emotions washing through him. Had she really come to recuse him? Had she needed help to rescue Ludendorff? Why hadn’t the merciless aliens shot him as well then? Who had she been anyway?

Maddox turned his head, looking down the corridor. Could Ardazirhos like the ones he’d seen in the control chamber see him now? Were they watching him on some big screen?

Maddox looked at the dead woman. Clarice hadn’t deserved this—he frowned. How did he know that? He didn’t know what she deserved.

Shaking his head, feeling soiled and coarse, he released her hand and began to search her corpse, realizing he needed whatever he could find. He came away with the tiny shield unit. It was exactly as Ludendorff had possessed many years ago. This one was burned out, probably from the beam effects.

She wore normal sweaty garments, and did not have any jewelry, not even rings. He drew away his bloody shirt—and froze for just a second as he saw a glitter of metal in her stomach.

He hesitated. He thought about Meta and Jewel. He was stranded 1,120 light-years from Earth, from his two women. Clarice had been an agent belonging to a different side than Star Watch.

“She’s dead,” Maddox told himself aloud. “This overrides desecrating her corpse. You’re trying to get home.”

He reached into her stomach. It felt wrong, but he did it anyway, drawing a tiny piece of metal with a filament of wire attached to it. The wire was about ten centimeters long, hardly anything at all.

Was this a Spacer modification? Had it been attached to her inner stomach lining? Had the black-suited humanoids shot at her stomach because of it, or was this incidental?

Maddox used his bloody shirt, cleaning the tiny piece of metal and wire. Ludendorff and the Iron Lady had failed to detect any modifications in Clarice—if that was what it had been.

Should I do an autopsy, cut up her body to see if there are more modifications?

Maddox exhaled sharply. No, he wasn’t going to hack up Clarice’s corpse. Prying into her bloody stomach had taken enough nerve. He also wasn’t going to leave her here like this.

Pocketing the tiny device and wire, he stood. The black-suited humanoids had slain Clarice and left, probably returning to their home base.

“Right,” Maddox said, deciding it was time to organize and to make a plan.

-20-

Maddox was tired but in no mood to sleep just yet. He started systematically searching the ship, using the bridge as his locus.

He found freeze-dried packets of food and distilled water. He forced himself to chew and swallow the dry product, hoping he wasn’t poisoning himself. Then, he drank distilled water. It filled him. It didn’t make him puke or get sick in any way. He found clothes, picking a shirt and jacket that fit.

He found a place to put Clarice, donned the old clothes, carried the corpse to a sealed tube, opened it and slid her in. He laid a blanket over the killing wound, wondering if he was getting sentimental in his loneliness. He sealed her in the tube, staring at her.

He ought to say something, but he didn’t really know what. He remembered something he’d heard at a funeral.

“All are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.”

Maddox frowned. That seemed too negative. Then he found himself saying softly: “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on Earth as it is in Heaven.

“Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil.

“For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.”

Maddox nodded. That seemed more fitting. He still stared at her, and he didn’t know why. He hadn’t known her, and she might have been an enemy agent. Almost certainly, that had been the case. Yet, the black-suited humanoids had gunned her down and burned the unit she claimed could have brought him back to the fourth planet of Omicron 9.

“Enough,” he said, nodding for a last time. Then, he turned away, knowing he’d never come back to this chamber.

A sense of determination and resolve filled him. He’d reached the Crowder System, lived there for several weeks, and now was here, in a known location. It was time to see if he could reach QV Telescopii.

An hour later, he found weapons. They were old-style chemical slugthrowers. The only one that worked was an assault carbine. It was a short, bullpup-style automatic. With twin magazines, he had armor-piercing and explosive bullets, with a selector switch to give him whichever he needed.

Using a carrying strap, he kept the carbine with him at all times, with a pouch giving him plenty of extra magazines.

He loaded up with freeze-dried packets of food and more water. Then, he began exploring the hauler in earnest.

It proved massive, as big as anything he’d seen before, except for the Builder Dyson Sphere or some of the bigger Swarm ships, or the fifteen-kilometer Severn warship they’d faced last mission. But after that it was the biggest.

In the end, he went back to the bridge. He passed dried blood on the corridor deck where the humanoids had murdered Clarice. That set him to thinking. Whoever had done that obviously knew about Omicron 9 and would presumably have a way of reaching there.

Of course, when he’d left the fourth planet, he’d slain two of the black-suited humanoids. Had others arrived to kidnap Ludendorff?

Maddox shook his head. There were too many imponderables. He needed to concentrate on things he could do.

On the bridge, he returned to the sensor panel and studied the triple star system, QV Telescopii. There were several planets, two of them Jovian gas giants. Another two were tiny terrestrial planets only a little larger than Mercury. He spied a few bigger comets and some larger asteroids.

What prompted him to return to studying the farther Mercury-sized planet, he could not say. It didn’t seem as if it was his intuitive sense. He focused the sensors on the tiny planet. It was a small world of rock and metal ores. He searched for an hour, two hours and then three. He took a break, doing deep-knee bends and two hundred pushups. He munched on the contents of a freeze-dried packet and drank water. Then, he returned to studying the tiny planet.

There! He focused between two mountain ranges. His heart beat faster as he realized that he spied a building complex, a low octagonal chain of buildings. The complex glittered. Why did—antennae, he saw hundreds of sprouting antennae and dish arrays from the top of the complex. Those dishes—

Maddox did some triangulation and ran degrees and angles. He nodded. The dish arrays definitely pointed at the black hole, at the invisible event horizon. Had the black hole once been a star?

He punched in some numbers and then studied the other two stars. QV Tel A was a B3 III blue star. The black hole and the star orbited each other in a period of 40.33 days. QV Tel B was a Be star, a rapidly rotating blue-white object with a hot decretion disk—the disk formed by material ejected from a star.

Other than the octagonal complex on the small planet and the black hole, he had little desire to go the system. But he should go there. The problem was that without a star drive, it would take him a long time to cross one-quarter light-year. Given the age of the hauler—fifty to sixty years—he doubted it or any smaller vessel in a hangar bay had such a drive. The vessel would have used Laumer Points or wormholes for interstellar travel.

Maddox frowned. Even starting fifty to sixty years ago, could a hauler using a Laumer Drive reach this far from Earth in that timeframe? The vessel was of human make and had certain design features that indicated it had come from the Commonwealth of Planets.

Well, what were his options? Had the black-suited humanoids wished to strand him way out here? Was he a spent piece on a playing board he did not yet understand?

Maddox sat back, with his forehead furrowed. The hauler was huge. He could not reasonably expect to find anything to help him here, but he wouldn’t know that until he searched every cranny.

“Fine,” he said. Now was as good a time as any to start.

-21-

Two days of wandering the corridors and chambers left him empty-handed. There were no corpses or skeletons anywhere but for the bridge and the chamber with Clarice. Most chambers proved empty, as if someone had cleaned everything out.

Did that imply Gatherers? Could Ardazirhos have taken the crew elsewhere—to Masters in the center of the Milky Way Galaxy perhaps? Hmm, perhaps the crew had ended up in the Crowder System, joining the dreadnoughts on the Lucifer run.

During the last two days, he hadn’t seen anything to give him hope. The engine worked, providing air and heat to the giant hauler. Was he destined to end his career here, a hobo on a derelict vessel?

Maddox returned to engineering, seeing if he could coax the old fusion reactors to give him thrust. He didn’t know enough, though, to produce positive results. He needed Andros Crank or Professor Ludendorff. What he really needed was Starship Victory to show up.

On the third day, he took to wandering the corridors as exercise. On the Autocrat, he’d found things to do to occupy his mind. Alone on the sixty-year-old hauler, he was starting to go stir-crazy.

The truth was that he was a man of action. He needed to be doing something, preferably against someone. It was a trait of the New Men. They craved action, finding prolonged time alone to be debilitating and irritating. Perhaps it was a weakness.

Maddox shrugged. He was who he was. Yet…that wouldn’t get him back home to Meta and Jewel.

“Damnit,” Maddox swore softly. He hated that Meta had been right, but he hated even more that he might never see either of his girls again.

Maybe he should have attacked the two black-suited humanoids that had shot Clarice. Better to go out in a blaze of glory—

Maddox halted, staring up at the ceiling bulkhead. What was glorious about having tricky aliens burn him down with beam weapons?

He—

The entire corridor shuddered, shuddered again, and he heard distant clangs and screeching.

Maddox might have stumbled, but he had an excellent sense of balance, swaying instead.

Abruptly, the shuddering ceased and the clangs and screeches quieted to the normal whisper of air moving through ship ducts.

Maddox found himself grinning, with the bullpup assault carbine in his hands. He turned around and raced to his quarters. He gathered his supplies, stuffing them into a carrying pack and shouldering it. He moved swiftly down various corridors, listening for anything that indicated people or aliens. He wanted someone to attack, or trick, or join forces with so he could get away from here.

He must have walked for two hours, hearing nothing new. Then, he froze, cocked his head and listened intently. He bent his head a moment later, willing himself to hear—

There, he heard the slightest—

“Hangar bay doors,” he whispered.

Maddox spun on his heels and ran toward the nearest hangar bay. The giant star hauler possessed three separate bays. If he’d heard something, and he was certain he had—

Voices, now he heard voices.

Maddox began to pant in anticipation. He willed himself to slow down, moving stealthily toward the voices.

Yes. He could hear voices and the words as well. They spoke English, accented English as from—

“The Crowder System,” Maddox whispered.

For some reason, that made him angry. He gripped the assault carbine more fiercely, striding—

“This place is huge,” a man said from ahead. “We’ll never find the patrol chief like this. I don’t know why Dax 19 insisted we look for the bastard. Let him rot, I say.”

Maddox stepped around the corner, the assault carbine aimed at three crewmembers belonging to Blue Team according to the blue tabs on their uniform jackets.

“Looking for me?” Maddox said, liking how that sounded.

The three stopped. Each of them had at least three days’ worth of bristles on their faces. They carried blasters but held them down by their legs.

“Are you Maddox?” the lead man asked: the pilot of a patrol boat by his sleeve chevrons, a burly individual.

“What of it?” Maddox said.

“If you’d put that toy away,” the pilot said. “We can escort you to the new First Marshal.”

“How did you get here?” Maddox asked.

The pilot glanced back at his two friends before regarding Maddox again. “Look. That doesn’t matter. We’re—”

“Shut up,” Maddox said, only realizing then how tense he felt. Something was wrong, very wrong. “What dreadnought did you come from?”

“Maddox, you are Maddox, right?” the pilot asked.

“Answer my question.”

“Hey, you seem nervous,” the pilot said. “There’s no need to be nervous—”

As if he’d given a command, all three crewmembers raised their blasters.

Maddox depressed his trigger, sweeping the bullpup carbine right to left and left to right, riddling the three with bullets, killing them so they went flying backward, their blasters falling from their hands.

In seconds, it was over, as Maddox quit putting pressure on the trigger.

Even as he started toward them, Maddox knew something was terribly off. They’d fallen wrong for one thing. And the bullets he’d fired had struck the bulkheads behind the three as if they’d passed through air instead of flesh, bone, fat and tissues. That meant—

The three images vanished as he raced up to them. Blood, pieces of flesh and fallen blasters all vanished as well. Maddox found himself staring at the deckplates with nothing to show concerning the encounter.

Maddox did not think these three were ghosts or anything else supernatural. He knelt on the deck, composing himself. He found that he was scowling. The idea to have opponents had gratified him. To once more find himself alone—

“No,” he whispered.

They must have been holoimages. That implied intelligence operating against him. Besides, he’d felt the corridors shudder and had heard clangs and screeches.

Could Spacers have reached this place? Could any of their modifications produce hallucinations in his mind?

Maddox didn’t like the idea of hallucinations, but he needed to consider every angle. He bent his head in thought. He didn’t believe he was going crazy, not this soon, anyway. These must have been holoimages or something similar.

He rose, moving deliberately toward the nearest hangar bay. He was starting to believe that someone secretly observed him.

With a start, he stopped and shoved a hand into a pocket. He felt the tiny piece of metal and wire he’d extracted from Clarice’s stomach lining.

The metal was warm.

Maddox gave the barest of nods. He had the feeling someone was playing him. Had set him up in ways he couldn’t understand yet. He would allow them to continue to do so because right now he couldn’t stop it. But eventually, he was going to get the upper hand against them. And when he did—

“Endgame,” he whispered.

-22-

Maddox continued down the corridor. On impulse, he put a hand in the pocket and felt the tiny piece of metal again. He snatched his hand back, as the piece had become hot.

He stopped, considered that and massaged his scalp—there was a tingle in his brain. He reached into the pocket, snatched the hot piece of metal with trailing wire and tossed it onto the deckplates. Then, he backed away and continued to feel his scalp.

Abruptly, the tingling sensation in his mind faded.

He thought about that. If the device was a Spacer modification, might it have been able to manipulate his neural net? Or more precisely, could someone or something have used the device against him?

Maybe it had been foolish to extract the device from Clarice. Maybe the device had controlled her.

Maddox made a face and spat on the deck. He was starting to hate this place and the situation. There were too many players, too many sides to all this. Lisa Meyers played a part. The Spacers played a part. And these Ardazirhos definitely played a part. That made three separate sides. One could also possibly add a Yon Soth, maybe a Jotun and even a Builder. Lisa Meyers and the Spacers both wanted to revive the Builder in the Glorious Kent. The black hole and a human hauler sixty years old could indicate the manipulative Builder just as easily as a Yon Soth.

Maddox continued down the corridor, leaving the possible Spacer/Builder modification on the floor. He reached the first hangar bay, finding nothing in it.

All right, he started for the second hangar bay. He found nothing new in there, either.

On the run, he reached the final hangar bay. It also was empty.

He backed out slowly, turned and logically considered the situation. The conclusion was obvious and troubling. The Spacer modification had produced a hallucination: several hallucinations if one included the shuddering and clangs. Someone had used the tiny device, forming hallucinations against him. That someone was likely on the hauler or could reach here if needed through a portal.

It was time for an even more exhaustive search of the ship.

Maddox dedicated the next twelve hours to it. The search, however, gave him nothing new.

Finally, Maddox slept fitfully for seven hours. When he woke, he continued searching, prying open grates and looking into conduits. He went through the hauler room by room, chamber by chamber and corridor by corridor. Anything he could open, he did.

It took him four and a half days of endless searching to conclude that there was nothing aboard the star hauler that he could use.

Finally, in lieu of anything else, he returned to the bridge. It felt like the most human place on the ship. He went to the sensor panel and studied the triple star system.

He looked at the octagonal complex on the small terrestrial planet. He studied it, searching for anything to give him a hint. Maddox found nothing that could help him.

“Stumped?” asked a voice from a speaker.

Maddox jackknifed off the chair, scooping up the assault carbine, aiming and swiveling in as many directions as he could.

“That is an animal reaction,” the computerized voice said. “Is that all you are?”

Trembling, with sweat slick under his armpits, Maddox pinpointed the speaker unit. It came out of the captain’s chair left armrest. He approached it cautiously, with the carbine aimed at it.

“You foiled me by discarding the induction unit,” the voice said. “That was well reasoned. I’m assuming you figured out that it was helping me read your mind.”

“Yes,” Maddox said hoarsely.

“Your tonal quality leads me to believe you’re frightened. Do you think I’m a disembodied spirit?”

“I doubt a spirit would need an electronic speaker.”

“I listened to your funeral speech. You quoted the Bible. You are from Earth then?”

“I am,” Maddox said. “Who are you?”

“No, not so fast,” the voice said. “I’ve been watching you for some time. I noted the Ardazirho hit duo and their portal exit. They slew the Spacer adept, yes?”

“Uh…” Maddox used a sleeve to wipe his forehead. He straightened, slipping the carbine’s carrying strap over his shoulder. He slowed his breathing and forced himself to calm down. Despite that, he continued to tremble. He’d hated the loneliness these past days, and maybe had become terrified at the idea of living the rest of his life out here in isolation. He’d thought constantly about Meta and Jewel, finally having to stop or he’d go mad with grief.

“I say, do I still have your attention?”

“Yes,” Maddox said. “I blanked out for a second.”

“That is an unusual reaction. Are you mentally stable?”

“I hope so,” Maddox said.

“A humorous answer,” the voice said. “That indicates a sense of proportion. Yes, you are still mentally stable. I do not think you enjoy loneliness.”

“What gave it away?”

“I have enjoyed the isolation of fifty-two of your Earth years. I had begun to contemplate the final journey, but something always stopped me. I have not detected any of my kind for much longer than that. I mean detected them in the outer galaxy.”

“Are you a Builder?” asked Maddox.

There was silence.

“I’ve met Builders before,” Maddox said.

“Have you indeed,” the voice said, with an edge.

“Almost all the Builders have left our area of the galaxy.”

“An obvious and easy conclusion,” the voice said.

“You’re not Dax 19 by any chance?”

“You refer to what the three hallucinations said?”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

“Dax 19 was the name of the cube you abandoned on the patrol boat diving at the beacon platform on Moloch.”

“Okay,” Maddox breathed. “You know about that, huh?”

“I read it in your mind, as it was in the forefront of your thoughts.”

“Did you produce the hallucinations from my mind?”

“Of course,” the voice said.

“You didn’t get the name Dax 19 from me.”

“No. I inferred that from things I already know.”

Once more, Maddox wiped sweat from his forehead. “Are you the ship?”

“Hardly,” the voice said. “Now, no more guesses for the moment. We have a decision to make.”

“Both of us?”

“Oh, yes, quite.”

“Uh…what kind of decision?”

“Whether we should attempt to use the black hole or not,” the voice said. “I have avoided the choice for fifty-two years. It’s a treacherous possibility that could end in our destruction. However, I do not believe the Ardazirho hit squads enjoy coming here. They fear me, I think. Otherwise, it makes no sense that more of them haven’t crawled around to dismember the vessel and use what lies within it.”

“The Ardazirhos created the portals?”

“No, no, not even close,” the voice said. “Do you know anything about Yon Soths?”

“Quite a bit, in fact,” Maddox said.

“Oh, good. I won’t have to explain that part then. I believe Ghar-Yon-Tog created the original pathways—what you call portals.”

“Did you know that I helped to kill Ghar-Yon-Tog?”

“You boast and brag about an impossible feat,” the voice said.

“No. I did it with my wife’s help.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“Well, it’s true. Does that change anything between us?”

“I will withhold judgment about that for the moment. But if Ghar-Yon-Tog is dead…that could make all this workable. I would like to believe you. Fifty-two years is a long time to wait for reconstruction.”

“Look,” Maddox said, “before I make any decisions, I should know what you are and what reconstruction means.”

“You think it will make a difference to your choice?”

“Yes.”

“Reasonable,” the voice said. “Very well, we have a huge decision in front of us. I’m guessing you inferior lifeforms still adhere to intense self-love and centricity.”

“What?”

“You think about yourself first before you think about others.”

“Doesn’t everyone do that?”

“It’s reasonable for me to think about myself first, as I’m a duplicate of a great Builder. You’re just a human, however, a gnat in the greater scheme of things.”

“I’m actually more than just…” Maddox said, letting the idea hang instead of completing it. He was dealing with a Builder, a duplicate. What did that mean exactly?

“I’m waiting,” the voice said. “How are you more than just a man?”

It would probably be better to say something than nothing. And it was usually easier to dupe someone who thought you were a fool, or simpleminded. Maddox nodded. He should stick to the methods he knew.

Clearing his throat, Maddox said importantly, “I’m the captain of a starship.”

“That’s it? You lead a crew on a mere starship?”

“A very important starship,” Maddox said pompously.

“Hmm… I sensed you were going to say something else. That leads me to believe you are now prevaricating.”

“What?”

“Keeping your unique specialness to yourself,” the voice said. “That shows caution and forethought. I approve.”

“You’re a Builder then?”

“I’m using your term, not ours. No, I’m not a Builder yet. I’m a duplicate.”

“A clone?” asked Maddox.

“That adheres to the idea of duplicate but isn’t quite what I’m saying. I have the needed data to reconstruct the original Builder, the one whose patterns I possess. To complete the creation, however, I need certain parts and pieces that this ship cannot supply. It is possible I can reach such a place by using the black hole.”

“I hope you’re not going to tell me we can cross the event horizon and come out somewhere else.”

“What a foolish idea. Why would you think I would think that?”

“Just saying,” Maddox said.

“I believe I understand. You are full of guile, and to multiply your efforts, you act less than you are. In other words, you do not always say the truth but what you think the other person wishes to hear or will accept. It is a clever method for survival, but it is also underhanded and sneaky.”

“Are you complimenting me?”

“On the contrary, I am gauging your character. I am not altogether sure I approve of your conduct.”

“I’ve made my decision,” Maddox said. “I mean about whether to go with you to the black hole or not.”

“That did not take long. What is the decision?”

“I want to try for the black hole, or the octagonal complex on the farther terrestrial planet.”

“That will be our destination, yes.”

“Before we go, can I ask you about the Ardazirhos?”

“Certainly,” the voice said. “Ask away. Whether I will answer or not is the question.”

Maddox nodded. “I’ve heard them called the servants of the Yon Soths. Do the Ardazirhos work for them?”

“No.”

“Could you elaborate?”

“Yes.”

After a short wait, Maddox said, “Would you please elaborate now?”

“No.”

“Any time soon?”

“No.”

Maddox knew that getting frustrated would be useless. Besides, this was the kind of puzzle or situation where he thrived. Inwardly, he accepted the challenge.

“Okay,” Maddox said. “I have a different question. Did Ghar-Yon-Tog make these portals or pathways?”

“I said so earlier as that is what the evidence suggests.”

“Ghar-Yon-Tog did this long ago?”

“Given what the evidence shows, he did this thousands upon thousands of years ago.”

“Have the Ardazirhos found a mechanism or method then to use these portals?”

“That does seem rather obvious, does it not?”

“Can the Ardazirhos use the portals precisely and at will, to go exactly where they want to?”

“That is an elegant question,” the voice said. “No. The portals are difficult to use precisely and at will—to use your terms. I’m sure you understand that we are speaking about a very select group of Ardazirhos, not the run-of-the-mill Gatherers.”

“I know it now,” Maddox said. “Do you know about the Crowder System?”

“Yes.”

“How far is it from here?”

“I’ve calculated it as approximately two hundred thousand and fifteen light-years from here.”

“What?” Maddox whispered.

“Do not fear. There is no time dilation effect using the portals. That is due to the cunning of the Yon Soth technology. Let me save us time regarding further questions and answers. One of Ghar-Yon-Tog’s lesser offspring took a colonizing ship from sixteenth century England. That was a nation on Earth.”

“I’m aware of it,” Maddox said.

“I’m speaking about a waterborne ship by the way,” the voice said. “The Yon Soth transported the colonizing vessel and people to the Crowder System, using the humans in place of a similar species that had self-immolated themselves with atomics.”

“To do what?” asked Maddox.

“Please, do not interrupt while I’m talking. I find it tedious in the extreme. I am unaware of the Yon Soth’s precise goal in the colonizing effort. The creatures are bizarre and of complex motivations. You might deem the Yon Soths as evil, their goals as well. Yes, I remember now. The Yon Soth caused the previous lifeforms to immolate themselves with atomics in order to escape its hideous experimentation upon them. I believe the Yon Soth never experimented on the new humans because it desired something else from them. Even so, since Earth was under Builder purview, some of us took even this single-ship extraction amiss.”

“Wait,” Maddox said. “You’re a duplicate, I thought. You weren’t alive then, were you?”

“Correct,” the voice said. “I do have the memory of the event, however, or the patterns that will give me the memory if I choose to duplicate. I must first assess whether the original is dead. If not, it would be a capital crime for me to prematurely duplicate.”

“What happened in the Crowder System?”

“You are referring to the incident in the late sixteenth century, by Earth dating terminology?”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

“A few Builders intervened, slaying the Yon Soth in question. I believe it was an epic battle. Since the Englanders in the Crowder System had already tasted of advanced technology, we deemed it best to leave them there.”

“And…they’ve been there ever since?”

“Not quite,” the voice said.

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s complicated. Nor do I care to try to explain it to someone as simple as you.”

Maddox frowned.

“But I will answer some of your questions. The present humans are mining Moloch, is that not so?”

“It is,” Maddox said.

“Have they explored elsewhere?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I will illuminate you,” the voice said. “The descendants of the original colonists have not gone exploring elsewhere. I mean beyond their star system. The lack of exploration is due to a Yon Soth effect, a barrier that encloses their system. The barrier has another effect, one of time.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Please do not keep barking out questions every time you don’t understand something. It is getting annoying.”

“As you wish,” Maddox said.

“I do wish, as I just said so. You are a maddening creature, Captain Maddox.”

“It’s been said.”

“To continue, the Crowder System has peculiar properties. The portals themselves have peculiar properties, and the Ardazirhos using them have diverged from their normal ways. In that sense, I suppose they have become servants of the Yon Soths. The Central-Control Ardazirhos have also become evil like Yon Soths.”

“Central-Control?” asked Maddox.

“That is the name for the controlling chamber you witnessed before arriving on the hauler.”

“How do you know about Central-Control and that I saw it?”

“Come now, Captain Maddox. That should be clear. I have previous knowledge concerning Central-Control, and I know you saw it because I read that in your mind.”

“Is there anything peculiar about the Spacers involved in all this?”

“Indeed,” the voice said. “The logical corollary from what I’ve stated is that you have become involved in something highly abnormal. It is a behind-the-scenes activity, a drawing back of the curtain, as it were. Lesser creatures like Humans and Ardazirhos are attempting to use technology well beyond their understanding. I’m guessing that is also so with Professor Ludendorff. I believe he’s a Methuselah Man.”

“Making him one of yours,” Maddox said.

“Quite. Well, Captain Maddox, are you ready?”

“Uh… ready to leave the hauler?”

“No. To meet me.”

“Oh. Yes. I’m ready.”

“Excellent. Please, do not take alarm at what you see.”

-23-

Maddox did take alarm, although he didn’t show it. He kept the assault carbine carrying-strap on his shoulder, the weapon bumping against his side instead of in his hands, blasting away.

With a screeching sound, something forced open the cut-up hatch. Then, a huge spiderlike machine scuttled toward the captain, the metal tips clicking on the deck.

Maddox knew a moment of panic but refrained from showing it.

The machine was bulkier and possessed more mass than a large man. It was two meters high with a smooth central metal casing and was three meters in diameter, counting its legs. There were no visible ports on the central casing and the eight multi-jointed legs were all metal. Presumably, the data and patterns it had spoken about earlier were inside the gleaming metal housing. There did not seem to be any offensive or defensive weaponry, but that was likely illusionary.

“So, ah…where were you hiding during my search these past few days?” Maddox asked.

The machine ceased moving closer. “It is sufficient for you to know that I would have remained hidden forever if I’d so desired.”

Maddox nodded, and he wondered about something. “I take it the Ardazirhos can’t see us from Central-Control.”

“Correct.”

“They can only see people crossing the portals?”

“Correct.”

Maddox frowned. He didn’t see a speaker unit on the gleaming housing, but he heard the—

“What do I call you?” Maddox asked.

“Potential Enki.”

“How about I shorten that to just Enki?”

“That is unacceptable, as the original Enki may yet exist, and I do not wish to create any confusion.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Maddox said.

“But you are not me. Know, I will not respond to the singular name, Enki, as I deem it presently disrespectful to the original.”

“Fine, no problem,” Maddox said. “Do you have a secondary name I could use?”

“Potential Enki is sufficient.”

“Do you have a rank?”

“I am a Sub Bar in the Lower Hierarchy.”

“Sub Bar, sure. That will work. What’s the next step?”

“Do you need more material or resources for an extended spaceflight?”

“What kind of resources?” Maddox asked.

“Food, water, clothes for warmth,” Sub Bar said.

“That depends. How long will the flight take?”

“One or two months should be sufficient.”

Maddox stared at the gleaming housing. “We can’t do it any faster than that?”

“It will depend on the state of the ship’s star drive. I am thinking worst case for now.”

“You mean the state of the hauler’s drive?” asked Maddox.

“No, I do not mean that. We will use a smaller craft I have hidden. Thirty-eight years ago, a Spacer team boarded the hauler. After the crew vanished into a portal, I dissected their approach vessel and hid it. When the Ardazirhos search teams came, they left baffled, finding nothing to extract.”

“Why didn’t you use the approach ship and leave for the QV Tel System back then?”

“I have my reasons. That is sufficient for you now.”

“How long will it take you to reassemble the spaceship?”

“I have already done so.”

“Where did you hide it while I searched?”

“Outside the hauler in space,” Sub Bar said.

Maddox shook his head, grinning. This was a strange companion, but it was better than remaining here alone for the rest of his life. “Do you expect the Ardazirhos to send another team here any time soon?”

“No. They killed Clarice and burned her portal device. The device was likely the reason they attacked her, as it allowed her to use the portals at will and with greater selectivity. I doubt they will trespass here again anytime soon, as I have come to believe that they fear this place.”

“Because of you?” asked Maddox.

“Some of my previous actions, anyway,” Sub Bar said.

Maddox frowned as he thought of something else. Where would Clarice have gotten a portal device if she were a Spacer? It struck him then. Could that be why Ludendorff had searched for more Yon Soth pieces of olden tech? Had the Professor been trying to assemble a portal device so he could use the portals and pathways? It seemed possible and maybe even likely.

“Do you have a portal device?” Maddox asked.

“That is immaterial, as we lack the high ground to use the portals stealthily. That is not an actual height, but a term you should be able to understand.”

“What?”

“Please pay attention. We cannot use the portals with an acceptable level of risk versus the Central-Control Team. Central would likely spy our passage and react immediately against us. Instead, we must travel outside the portal lanes to go where we must.”

“And the portal lanes are the pathways that Yon Soths created long ago?” asked Maddox.

“It is good when you listen attentively, as you clearly have the IQ to understand lower-level matters. But then, a simpleton should be able to understand portal travel and Yon Soth creation.”

“Thanks,” Maddox said. “So, ah, what will we do at the octagonal complex?”

“Let us reach there before we worry about it. Now, gather what sources you need. Then, go to the nearest hangar bay. From there, we will transfer to the spaceship.”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“If you must,” Sub Bar said.

“It strikes me that you could have gone to the octagonal complex on your own at any time. Why go now, and why take me with you?”

“Because I have need of human hands and possibly your di-far cunning.”

Maddox stood very still. “How do you know about that?”

“I have not become entirely ignorant lost out here on the hauler. I have waited… No. Let us proceed. I have become too garrulous after these past fifty-two years. It is time I return to the old ways once more. I have a few matters to attend to before I board the ship. I suggest you hurry, though. There are hidden elements in play that could disrupt our progress.”

Maddox wasn’t sure what all that meant, but he picked up his pack and headed for the open hatch. He needed more freeze-dried packets and water, and he would recheck the clothes. This was a wild development, but he welcomed it.

A Builder bug, a duplicate, a clone, as it were. Builders could be arrogant, but some in the past had proven helpful, at least to a degree. Sub Bar wasn’t a Yon Soth. That was the main thing.

Maddox hurried down a corridor. He’d collect more food and water and then wait in the hangar bay.

One thing kept troubling him, though. The duplicate had spoken about an abnormal situation outside the regular parameters. He’d said that this was all behind the scenes, and that sounded ominous. There was one last thing. Did he believe the duplicate concerning sixteenth century history and the Crowder System?

Maddox shrugged. If nothing else, it was a working theory. He would withhold further judgment about it until he gained more evidence.

-24-

The approach ship was large compared to a Star Watch shuttle or even an Autocrat patrol boat. It was oval, had originally held a crew of eighteen Spacers and was supposed to be thirty-eight years old at least.

The bridge was in the exact center of the ship, the safest part of the vessel. Maddox sat at piloting, while the Sub Bar Potential Enki rested to the side, its multi-jointed legs pulled up around the central housing unit.

On the main screen, the long star-hauler dropped away, rapidly becoming smaller until it was just a dot and then altogether disappeared from view.

Maddox swiveled around, facing the duplicate machine. “You said before that the Spacers reached the hauler thirty-eight years ago?”

“Correct.”

“I didn’t know they’d made it this far out back then.”

“It is likely that there is much you do not know.”

“True enough,” Maddox said. “Does the approach ship have a star drive?”

“I recognize the cunning of your question. You are attempting to discover when the Spacers first used star drives. I will tell you this. Originally, the approach ship lacked a star drive. I built and installed the present one. However, it is thirty-seven years old and could be operationally defective.”

“Haven’t you been running diagnostics to make sure it works?”

“Indeed, and theoretically, the drive should perform just fine.”

“Then, we should be at the black hole, or at the terrestrial planet, in no time.”

“A subjective term, indeed,” Sub Bar said.

Maddox chewed on the inside of a cheek as he swiveled back and studied the main screen. He’d left the hauler, which meant he’d escaped the Central-Control Ardazirhos for a time. He’d also left Clarice’s corpse and the modification that Sub Bar had used against him. Maddox reminded himself that the machine was a Builder duplicate, not just another alien. Was the duplicate attempting to use him, just as he was trying to use the duplicate?

Maddox shrugged. Whatever the case, this was a hundred times better than wasting away on the hauler.

He stared at the main screen for a time. They were 1,120 light-years from Earth. He was thus deep in the Beyond. He looked back at the resting machine. “Is the Crowder System really two hundred thousand light-years from us?”

“Indeed,” Sub Bar said.

“How did Ghar-Yon-Tog create the portals?”

“Ah. You begin to perceive my interest in them. Frankly, the technology was and is beyond us, or beyond the Builders. The Yon Soths still possess secrets the rest of the universe desires.”

That was interesting. “Do you have any idea what the humans in the Crowder System are searching for?”

“I do indeed.”

Maddox waited, finally asking, “Do you mind telling me?”

“I do not. They seek a way to cross the barrier, to escape from their dying star system.”

“You’re kidding? Their star is about to go nova?”

“No. The barrier is shrinking, compressing everything within more tightly. The time will soon arrive when the third planet’s orbital stability will collapse. Millions will die.”

“Not billions?” asked Maddox.

“There have been atomic wars and terrible plagues on Crowder Three throughout its history. Thus, it is millions instead of billions.”

“Did Lisa Meyers’s people arrive there via the portals?”

“The Methuselah Woman has people in the Crowder System?”

“Correct,” Maddox said, mimicking the duplicate’s way of saying it.

“Meyers…she is a vain creature,” Sub Bar said.

“I take it you know her then?”

“That is classified data.”

Maddox’s head jerked up, but he didn’t swivel around. Dax 19—the cube—had spoken like that. Was the cube part of a different potential Builder, another duplicate? Is that why Vint Diem had possessed one?

An hour later, Sub Bar energized the star drive to initiate a jump. That caused a hum throughout the approach ship and the deck to shiver under Maddox’s feet.

“We will attempt to jump in five minutes,” Sub Bar said. “It is possible my homemade drive will explode, killing us.”

Maddox found himself opening and closing his hands, his palms itchy and sweaty. He hated the idea of dying out here, leaving Meta and Jewel in the lurch. His gut roiled but he endured the wait in silence.

Finally, the ship shuddered. For a moment, it seemed to Maddox that time ceased as everything around him froze. Then, the ship seemed to drop into a new position. Maddox slouched lower as if in a roller-coaster car that had come to a sudden halt. He felt disoriented, his eyes crossing, and he vomited onto the floor.

“How utterly revolting,” Sub Bar said. “Why do you spew digestive juices onto the floor?”

“It’s an effect of jump lag,” Maddox muttered.

“Yes, I seem to recall the term. That would indicate that our star drive worked. Check your sensors.”

Maddox tried but the main screen had gone offline. It took several minutes before the screen reactivated. Maddox manipulated the sensors and soon brought up the small terrestrial planet, the one without any moons.

“Pinpoint targeting,” Sub Bar said. “The star drive worked perfectly. I knew it would.”

“I can’t find the octagonal complex,” Maddox said, as he tapped the sensor board.

“For the simple reason that it is on the other side of the planet,” Sub Bar said. “I took the precaution of making a deceptive jump, going through the planet, as it were. One never knows in these cases whether we have parasites or not.”

“Are you talking about bio-space organisms inside or on the approach ship?” asked Maddox.

“Do not be ridiculous,” Sub Bar said. “You must learn the difference between literal statements and figures of speech. Are you a fundamentalist by nature?”

“What?”

“Have you already forgotten that I told you not to bray such a word every ten seconds? I find it most annoying.”

“Are you feeling all right?” Maddox asked.

“…No,” Sub Bar said. “I do not feel well. That means something, does it not?”

“Sure does. It’s called jump lag. It must be affecting your circuits.”

“That is preposterous, as I am a superior Builder technological item. I should not experience such a thing as jump lag.”

“No one’s perfect,” Maddox said.

“Is that a racial slur directed at me?”

“How about I take us around the planet so we can land at the complex?”

“Negative,” Sub Bar said. “I will now take control of piloting. If you insist on pushing your weight around, I will render you inert.”

Maddox swiveled around to regard the machine. Finally, he shrugged, silently reminding himself that aliens were different. Builders were likely the strangest of all and maybe duplicates even more so.

“You have grown silent,” Sub Bar said. “Have I upset your delicate sensibilities?”

Right then, Maddox decided on an upgraded strategy. “No, sir, I’m checking my attitude. You’re in charge, as you’re superior to me and know what you’re doing. I will remain silent and obedient to your wishes.”

“Such wisdom…” Sub Bar said softly. “I had not expected to find that in you.”

Maddox dipped his head as if gratified with the statement.

“Know then, Maddox, that I have installed a weapons system into the ship. It is not a missile and not quite a beam. It should prove sufficient against the guardians of the complex. To forestall any braying outbursts from you, I will say that the guardians are Yon Soth devices. I do not know if they still exist, however. I suspect not, but—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir,” Maddox said, as he studied a sensor panel. “But I’ve detected a bloom on the planetary surface. I wonder if it’s a missile launch.”

“Yes!” Sub Bar said. “I have detected it also. The bloom comes from a launched missile of old Yon Soth manufacture. I was correct about the complex. Silence, now, I must concentrate. There, I have emitted the ray—and look. You should see an explosion on the main screen.”

Maddox looked up in time to see an intensely bright light. It disappeared a second later.

“I have rendered the other missiles in their silos inert,” Sub Bar said. “We are safe to land.”

“While you’re piloting the ship, sir, what should I be doing?”

“I must say, Captain Maddox, that I appreciate your newfound subservience. It bodes well for our continued partnership in this. I suppose you will want a reward once this is all over.”

“Whatever you deem acceptable is reward enough for me, sir.”

“That is a refreshing statement, even though I know you are attempting more subterfuge.”

“Sir?”

“Now, now, Captain Maddox, a leopard cannot change its spots that quickly. Neither can you become a true subservient Builder servant. Still, the memory of obedient Methuselah People is a good one. I take it as a sign of our coming luck. Naturally, you will believe such luck to be part of your di-far stigma. And do you know what, you may be correct in that assumption. It is one of the reasons I desired your presence.”

“You see me as a good luck charm, sir?”

“In a manner of speaking, that is exactly so. As you can see, we are beginning our descent.”

Maddox studied the main screen. The Mercury-sized planet grew larger until the horizons vanished. Soon, mountain ranges appeared. They were rugged and composed of rock and metallic ores.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t come here ages ago,” Maddox said.

“For fifty-two years, I have made intense calculations concerning our present activity. In truth, I have already sent out nine hundred and sixty-three thousand individual pulses. Those pulses have rendered many hostile systems inert. The last few are proving troublesome, but I should overcome them soon.”

“You mean, if I’d tried to land with a regular ship—”

“You would be nothing but a smear of atoms. The complex is highly dangerous. I do not believe anyone has visited it for six hundred and nineteen years.”

“And the complex can use the black hole?”

“What a bizarre way to say it,” Sub Bar said. “Now, strap into your seat. I detect a few anomalies ahead. It appears I did not think of everything. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Maddox said, as he clicked his restraint into place.

“Good, as this is going to get rough.”

-25-

Rough would have been one way to describe it. The approach ship shuddered, screeched and interior explosions caused pieces of the bulkhead to blow through the bridge. Some of the pieces rattled against the metal housing of the spider machine. One heavier piece shattered a multi-jointed leg, rendering it useless.

Maddox tore off his restraint and dove under his seat. A larger piece burned part of his forearm as it zipped across. A sliver of metal pierced his left calf muscle, but luckily went through one meaty side and out the other. It might well have shattered the bone if it had struck it.

“Grab hold of a stanchion,” Sub Bar said. “We must endure violent maneuvering.”

The approach ship must have gone up, down and to the side. Maddox’s grip loosened because of the violent changes in direction.

The bulkheads exploded again.

Maddox saw something heading at him, ducked his head—it was the last thing he remembered.

***

Time passed, and by slow degrees, Maddox grew aware of soft machinery humming around him. It felt as if he lay on a soft sheet, a soft bed. One of his legs was elevated higher than the other. He noticed that one arm was also higher up.

He cracked open an eyelid and was certain that he saw a nurse in a white uniform walk past him. She was human… There were noises; maybe it was people talking.

Maddox kept the eyelid cracked open, and it appeared as if Meta rose from a chair beside his hospital bed. Her face—her gorgeous face loomed large before his eye. He wanted to smile. It felt so wonderful to see his wife again. Instead, the sight dimmed and his eyelid must have closed. He must have gone to sleep, as he remembered nothing more.

Maddox did not dream. Perhaps he could not enter the REM state to dream. He existed in blackness, a mote moving through time without any knowledge about anything.

A long time later, although it might have just been seconds, Maddox heard humming around him. It was so reassuring. There was a soft touch against his head.

Despite the softness, pain exploded. Desperate pain shocked his system. Maddox wanted to howl, but he could not as he couldn’t see or say a thing. The pain began at the top of his head and flooded his entire body. It pulsated through him, weak, strong, weak, strong—abruptly, the agony ceased.

There was no more sensation, not even that of floating in darkness. There was existence that loomed and loomed—

Maddox’s eyes flew open. He had no idea what he saw. It was bright, and that shattered the peace of darkness that had surrounded him for an eternity. The brightness intensified. He scowled but didn’t know to close his eyes.

Something moved before the intense light, shielding his eyes. It brought relief, and it allowed Maddox’s eyes to focus.

He saw a sheet of dark metal before his eyes. With deliberate effort, he forced his gaze to the left. He saw the sheet of dark metal and that was it. So, he switched, forcing his gaze to the right until he saw—a claw, a metal claw or metal pincers.

“Sub Bar?” whispered Maddox.

“I am here,” the spider machine said.

Maddox blinked several times as he absorbed the data. This was classified. He chuckled in a dry weak way, and then it became impossible for him to laugh.

“Sub Bar?” Maddox asked more strongly.

“Do you doubt your senses, Captain Maddox?”

Maddox ran a feeble tongue over chapped, dry lips. He still couldn’t see anything but for the black metal. “Where am I?”

“We are inside the octagonal complex.”

All the little strength Maddox possessed left him. He wanted to weep but wouldn’t allow himself the softness. It took three shallow breaths before he said, “I’m not back on Earth?”

“You are one thousand, one hundred and twenty light-years from Earth.”

“I saw my wife.”

“You were dreaming.”

“Why can’t I see anything?”

“I am waiting for you to close your eyes. Then, I will remove the metal shielding. I think my surgery has left you quite weak.”

“Did we crash?”

“Not exactly,” Sub Bar said. “Your body took a pounding. I believe that is the correct idiom. I practiced emergency surgery, using a chamber in the complex for just that. You have been healing the past two weeks.”

“Weeks? I’ve been unconscious for two weeks?”

“No.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. You extrapolated the wrong correlation from my words. You have been unconscious for six weeks.”

“What?”

“Yes, I remember that annoying habit. That you resume it shows you must be farther along that I’d hoped. For four weeks, I kept you from perishing. It was quite difficult. But I still need your luck. Otherwise, I would have left you to your devices. Three weeks ago, I finally cracked the medical codex here. It is primitive, surprisingly so given the advanced quantum mechanics the complex uses to manipulate the black hole out there.”

“You defeated the complex’s defenses then?”

“Only just,” Sub Bar said. “I should have calculated for another few years before making this attempt. Perhaps your luck was more important. It is a metaphysical issue, I’m afraid. In any case, we are here. I had just about given up hope on you. Now, I will wait another few weeks as you heal. Then, we shall attempt to use the transfer mechanism.”

Maddox lay still as he absorbed the information. It sounded as if he’d almost died. That was better, anyway, than what had happened to him last mission. There, he had died, and been resuscitated.

“What?” Maddox closed his mouth and used his tongue to swab his dry inner cheeks. He tried again. “What are we going to attempt?”

“That is an interesting question. We have three choices. I believe I shall wait to explain. It is best if you sleep again.”

Maddox yawned, and he tried to keep his eyes open. It didn’t work. Thus, by degrees, he fell into a deep slumber.

-26-

Four days later, Maddox shuffled around in his room. It was composed of a cot and softly humming machines with small dishes aimed at him. Sub Bar said they focused healing rays upon his body. Without them, he would have died, as he’d taken extensive injuries as the inner bulkheads had exploded in the approach ship.

Maddox sat on the cot and examined the hairline scars that crisscrossed his skin. It was rather frightening considering their number.

“Did any pieces penetrate my skull?” Maddox asked.

The spider machine waited to the side in the chamber. “You would have died if that had been the case.”

Maddox stared at the hairline scars again, never sure when his eyes shut and he began snoring.

On the fifth day, Maddox sipped water and ate a paste that tasted like crackers. It was hard to swallow the paste, but he managed. He sweated too much afterward and had to sleep once more.

On the seventh day, he shuffled around again. The hairline scars were gone, so the healing machines must have been working. This time, he could sip water and swallow the paste without having a relapse into deep sleep.

“Okay, Sub Bar, how about telling me the choices.”

The spider machine did not regard him that Maddox could tell. Neither did it respond as it waited motionless in the corner.

Maddox thought about that. He recalled the subservient manner he’d used at the end of the voyage here. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he said. “I’m tired. I’m sorry if I was disrespectful, sir.”

“Let us wait one more day before we discuss the choices.”

“Good idea, sir.”

Maddox slept hard that night, and he dreamed. It was about him holding his little baby Jewel. When he woke up, he realized she would have grown in his absence. That filled him with renewed resolve to get back home. Yes, Earth was over a thousand light-years away, but he’d gone farther and come back. Heck, according to Sub Bar, he’d been over two hundred thousand light-years away while in the Crowder System. It was crazy.

Maddox donned a shirt and overalls and a pair of socks and boots. It was all Sub Bar had been able to find in the complex. Maddox’s backpack supplies had been shredded, but they’d shielded him, one of the reasons he’d survived the blast of bulkhead pieces. The monofilament blade was still with him, as well as the assault carbine.

Maddox took those as good signs.

He opened the hatch and entered the next chamber. It was stacked with metal boxes, with enough room to maneuver for the spider machine, thus giving Maddox plenty of space.

Sub Bar entered from the other hatch and stopped short. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“Any reason—yes, sir. I’ll return to my chamber.”

Maddox did just that, the spider machine following him into the healing chamber. Maddox went to his cot, sitting on it and waiting.

“Do you think you’re well enough to hear bad news?” Sub Bar asked, as the hatch closed.

“Yes,” Maddox said, even as a wave of weakness flooded through him. He didn’t want to hear any bad news, just good stuff.

“I am detecting high stress levels in you,” Sub Bar said.

“Sir, we may be taking too long in all this.”

The spider machine said nothing.

“I do not say that disrespectfully.”

“I realize this,” Sub Bar said. “After fifty-two years of waiting, I had forgotten that sometimes one must move like lightning. That is your usual procedure, is it not?”

“I like to think so.”

“Are you ready for the bad news then?”

“I am, sir.”

“We cannot use the black hole to directly attack Central-Control.”

“Oh.”

“No, no, that would have been best. The Ardazirhos have a key advantage over us. We dare not use any of the portals as long as they own Central-Control.”

“Do you know what they’re trying to achieve through their control?”

“I do not,” Sub Bar said.

Maddox wasn’t sure he believed that, but he went with it. Besides, he was too tired to attempt much subterfuge just yet. He wanted to sleep again, but he wanted to see Meta and Jewel even more. He nodded for the machine to continue.

“That leaves us with two choices,” Sub Bar said. “We can use the black hole, with the complex’s controls, to possibly reach the Crowder System. Or, we can use the black hole to transfer to Earth. That outcome is more likely.”

Maddox stared at the spider machine. Why wouldn’t the thing want to reach the Library Planet? Did Sub Bar know about it? Should he tell him?

“Do the choices surprise you?” Sub Bar asked.

“They do, sir.”

“I can reach other places, but I do not think they are vital just now.”

“How can Earth be vital to you?”

“It isn’t, other than being the headquarters for Star Watch. You may not realize it, but Star Watch is an offshoot of certain Builder ideals.”

“Since when?” asked Maddox.

“Ludendorff and Strand helped initiate the ideals that led to Star Watch’s creation.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“Do you doubt the veracity of my word?”

“Oh, no, no, nothing like that, sir. I…I’m simply surprised.”

“You do not believe me, do you?”

“I, ah, need to think about it.”

“This is too much. After all I have done for you, I find your distrust disturbing.”

“It isn’t distrust. It’s surprise. Ludendorff and Strand, huh?”

“They circulated the ideals many years before your birth,” Sub Bar said.

“But…you’ve been stranded on the hauler for—”

“Captain Maddox,” Sub Bar said, interrupting. “Let us not rehash old issues. I consider Star Watch to be a Builder-type of organization. It is there to help achieve peace of a certain variety, an organization that helps sustain human stability. More to the point, I believe you might gain access to Starship Victory if we go to Earth.”

“Now, how can you know about Victory? Uh, I mean, sir?”

“Old issues, Captain Maddox. You are attempting to rehash old issues. Do not worry how I know a thing, just accept that I do.”

Maddox nodded, smiling, but he was plenty worried. The latest statements proved that Sub Bar knew about present things, which mandated a source, a hidden ally, perhaps. Maddox didn’t believe Sub Bar had gained all that knowledge through the Spacer modification tapping into his mind before, although that always was a possibility. Did Sub Bar secretly work for or with Meyers or the Spacers? Those two possibilities seemed more than probable.

“You have become strangely silent, Captain Maddox.”

“I was thinking. Uh…how would having Victory help us?”

“We would have to return here and use the black hole a second time to reach the Crowder System with the starship.”

“Use the black hole to travel two hundred thousand light-years?”

“More or less,” Sub Bar said.

“How would Victory get back to Earth?”

“Through the portals, perhaps.”

“The ship could use the portals?”

“Of course not. I’m referring to the ship’s personnel.”

“That would mean Galyan dies or would be stranded out there. I can’t do that to him, sir.”

“Now see here, Captain Maddox. Do not become stubborn just as we’re about to achieve our goal.”

“Our goal, sir?”

“You seek my good as a subservient worker, is that not so?”

“Yes, yes, I see now you’re correct again as usual,” Maddox said.

“Were you lying to me before when you said you were subservient?”

“No. I’m… You see, sir, I’m a loyalist. The crew and ship mean a lot to me. I yearn to bring everyone back home again in one piece.”

“A noble sentiment, surely,” Sub Bar said. “In this instance, there is a greater good.”

“Can I ask what?”

“You already know: my goal. If you are still seeking to know my precise goal, then you are seeking to know more than you should. I find that repugnant. Will you or will you not aid me in my great quest?”

Maddox stared at the spider machine. He didn’t know how to disable or destroy it, as the machine might prove immune to the assault carbine. And even if he could destroy the machine, what would he do after that? Probably starve to death in the complex. Clearly, he needed Sub Bar in order to leave QV Telescopii.

“I’ll certainly aid you, sir,” Maddox said, “as I’m a man of my word.”

“Then you choose to go to Earth?”

“Well, now I’m uncertain. Where would we appear in the Crowder System if we went there?”

“That is an excellent question. I would try for Crowder Three, naturally, but our landing would not necessarily be precise.”

“How would we return here?”

“I do not know that I would try. I might start afresh out there—once I broke the barrier, of course.”

“Sir, I desire your good. You must know that.”

“So you’ve told me,” Sub Bar said.

Maddox nodded. “But I must also seek Star Watch’s good. I am a loyalist to the organization. How would Star Watch gain from our going to the Crowder System?”

“You are an insistent bugger, aren’t you? Perhaps it is part of your personality, hardwired into you. Thus, I will make an amendment for it. Know, then, that Lisa Meyers has the Glorious Kent. It is a centuries-old spaceship and holds a sleeping Builder. I wish to find the Glorious Kent and think it likely the ship is hidden deep inside the Jovian gas giant Lucifer.”

“Okaaay…” Maddox said. “And how did Lisa Meyers travel two hundred thousand light-years to reach the Crowder System, especially as it’s protected by an impassable barrier?”

The spider machine said nothing.

“I very much doubt the Glorious Kent sank into Lucifer’s upper atmosphere,” Maddox said. “I also think you know that, sir.”

“I am beginning to dislike you, Captain Maddox. Especially because you are cleverer than you first appeared. Perhaps it is a mistake taking you along on this mission.”

“I thought you needed my di-far luck.”

“I do, but at what cost, I wonder?”

“Look, sir, all I want to know is how it helps Star Watch us going to the Crowder System. Why is that so awful to ask?”

“Very well, I will tell you, if only to get on with it. There is vital technology hidden in several Jotun ships deep in Lucifer’s radioactive atmosphere. There, I have said it.”

“How did the Jotun ships cross the impenetrable barrier?”

“More questions, eh, Captain? The answer should be obvious even to you. The Jotun ships are unlike ours. For one thing, theirs possess hydro-lithium hulls. Remember, Jotuns breathe or breathed hydrogen at tremendous pressures. The bottom of Earth’s ocean—a place of immense pressure to a human—would be the next thing to a vacuum to them. Jotuns thrived at one hundred degrees below zero and drank liquid methane.”

“You’ve seen a Jotun?”

“Come now, Captain, this is too much. You are testing my patience. I have answered your initial question.”

“You haven’t said why this is important to Star Watch.”

“Captain Maddox, there is vital technology stashed away in the Crowder System. It holds the secrets to gaining the Central-Control Chamber, possibly frozen Yon Soths and stasis-held Jotuns. Does not the possibility excite you?”

“I don’t mean to be a bulldog, sir. But how does any of that help Star Watch again?”

“Let me cogitate.” The spider machine fell silent. “Ah. Lisa Meyers and Spacers vie in the Crowder System. If either acquires the various technologies, they will possess the abilities to smash Star Watch. Both have shown predilections of that nature.”

Maddox nodded. It was true.

“Thus, you can help forestall deadly attacks against Star Watch from known enemies.”

“From the sound of it, if Meyers or the Spacers gain these technologies, they’ll have the ability to reach Earth again.”

“Most assuredly,” Sub Bar said.

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“To be frank, Captain, the probabilities of their being able to harm Star Watch or Earth without control of the portals are of a slim nature. However, if they gain the technologies, there is a good chance they can storm Central-Control and gain access to the portals. That would be bad for Star Watch, would it not?”

“Yes.”

“So then, having received your precious answer, have you now arrived at your choice?”

“You’re leaving it to me?”

“Luck, Captain Maddox, I’m relying on your di-far luck factor. If I choose, I likely forego the luck. But if you choose…”

Maddox nodded. “Earth, then, sir. I choose Earth.”

“Ah,” Sub Bar said. “Then let us prepare for just that.”

-27-

Two days later, in a new spacesuit, Maddox settled into a crash seat of a capsule-ship. The capsule was inside a magnetic-impulse tube, which was part of the octagonal complex of buildings on the surface.

Sub Bar hadn’t said anything about the capsule other than that it would be their sled-ride to Earth via the event horizon.

As Maddox buckled in, the culmination of his thoughts about all this gave him a subtle conclusion. Since reaching the planetary complex, his intuition had gone silent. That was…troubling. Yet, why should he think so?

Maddox wrestled with the idea. Was there nothing here for his intuition to grasp? That seemed unlikely. Could Sub Bar have…muffled his intuition? The more Maddox considered the idea, the more likely it seemed.

Well…if Sub Bar had muffled or silenced his intuition, how had the spider machine done so? Could it have been through the parasites that Sub Bar had talked about earlier?

Maddox shook his helmeted head. He didn’t believe there were any parasites. That meant the machine, the Builder machine with data and parts to create a duplicate Enki, had silenced the intuition.

Is this my muffled intuition saying this?

Maybe it was an echo of his otherwise silenced intuition and had finally gained his attention. How could the spider machine do that, though? Well, the machine might be beaming a ray at him or using a Spacer modification to deaden the intuition…

Maddox’s mouth opened. He should have seen this sooner. Why would the machine trust him on Earth? Sub Bar wasn’t stupid or a simpleton. He was a sophisticated Builder machine, likely of the highest order. Sub Bar trusted him…because he’s controlling me somehow.

The moment Maddox thought that he knew it was true. Sub Bar must have put something into him during the surgeries.

Inside the helmet, Maddox scowled. Just how much would Sub Bar have modified him? The duplicate wanted to use his luck. Maddox believed Sub Bar about that. Okay. There were controlling mechanisms in him enough to muffle his intuition. However, whatever the modifications did likely weren’t yet in full effect so his di-far luck would continue to work. It was possible then that the spider machine would ultimately use him to hurt Star Watch.

Maddox snorted. Even worse than that, Sub Bar tried to control him. Maddox hated the idea with a seething passion. No one was going to make him a puppet. Thus, the question become, how could he forestall the spider machine and still reach home?

As Maddox waited on the crash seat, he began to work through scenarios, having a full forty-five minutes before the spider machine entered the small chamber.

Sub Bar settled into a grooved area, sliding his multi-jointed legs into waiting slots.

That was interesting. The capsule-ship, or this part of it, anyway, seemed ready-made for the machine. What did that mean? Maddox sighed. It likely meant that the machine had been lying to him about many things. That was fine as far as it went, as Sub Bar was an ally of the moment, an ally to help him get back to Earth. Because Sub Bar was manipulating him, sticking controlling modifications inside his body, all bets were off once they reached Earth.

“Are you ready for the transfer?” Sub Bar asked through Maddox’s helmet speakers.

“I’m ready,” Maddox said.

“I am initiating the process—now.”

The entire capsule shuddered as visible energies began to crisscross through the chamber. Maddox’s gut seethed as he felt violent motion. Through magnetic-impulse, the capsule-ship fired from the ejection tube and raced up into orbital space and beyond.

“We are heading for the black hole.” Sub Bar’s mechanical voice spoke through the helmet speakers. “We will have to skim the event horizon even as exotic energies beam from the complex at the capsule.”

Maddox had no idea how such a thing could or would work. It had something to do with quantum mechanics. Ludendorff might have understood.

In that moment, Maddox missed having the professor along. He missed the crew of Victory. Did Sub Bar really wish to travel inside the ancient Adok starship, or did the duplicate have a more nefarious goal in mind?

“This is exciting,” Sub Bar said. “I have waited over fifty-two years for this day.”

Maddox turned his helmet to peer at the spider machine.

“Think of it, Captain Maddox. We are attempting one of the most brazen—”

Sub Bar ceased speaking. For at the second, the visible energies thickened and raced faster. They poured back and forth across the chamber.

Maddox grunted each time a new beam pulsed through his suit. The speed of the interior beaming increased, and the heft or shock of them grew. The chamber shuddered, and then shaking, as Maddox had never known, jarred him. He clenched his jaw muscles so his teeth wouldn’t rattle. He flexed his muscles so his bones didn’t shift too much in his body.

The process was agony. Flashes of light and bubbles of sound assaulted him. Was this skimming the event horizon? How would that let them slip 1,120 light-years in moments? It made no sense. Was this Builder quantum mechanics or Yon Soth technology as Sub Bar had first said?

Maddox endured, and suddenly, everything ceased. There was no noise, no light and no sensation. There was existence. That did not last. Maddox felt an endless corridor. It was dark and it stretched to infinity. It felt as if he raced along the corridor of infinity—

Shaking resumed. His gut roiled as if he was falling. And then all motion ceased.

Maddox blinked, blinked some more—he reached up and tore off the helmet. He barely made it in time as he began to vomit. He continued heaving, dry heaving, wanting to stop but unable to achieve it. This was worse than anything else so far.

A cooling hiss sounded.

Maddox stared up at Sub Bar. The machine had left its groove and crossed the small chamber, using one of its multi-jointed legs and pincers to press a hypo against his neck.

“You are badly agitated,” Sub Bar said. “That will stop if you relax.”

Maddox blinked some more with dry eyes. He wanted to tell the spider machine something. It was vital he do so. Whatever was in the hypo calmed him, however, so he relaxed and began to smile.

At that point, Maddox no longer perceived events even as his body unhooked itself from the crash seat. The shell of Captain Maddox began to listen to the spider machine as it gave him his new instructions.

-28-

THREE WEEKS LATER

Sergeant Treggason Riker was an older man with leathery skin, a bionic eye and a fully bionic left arm. The old dog of an Intelligence operative had lost both eye and arm in a blast many years ago on a desperate mission on Altair III. He was handy with a gun, possessed a cunning tactical sense and had worked with Maddox for many, many years as a type of Watson to Maddox’s Sherlock Holmes. These days, more than a few figured the old salt of a sergeant should hang it up and retire already. Riker thought that himself at times, and this was definitely one of them.

Riker had been on Victory on assignment as Lieutenant Commander Valerie Noonan ran the starship instead of Maddox. The captain had remained at home on Earth with his newly born baby girl. At least, that was what Riker had last heard before leaving on assignment.

A couple of weeks ago the Lord High Admiral had called Commander Noonan. Cook had done so with a Long Range Builder Comm Device, summoning Victory home for an unstated secret mission.

Victory presently orbited the Earth-stationed pyramidal nexus, getting ready to use a hyper-spatial tube, which would soon appear. They planned to cross 1,120 light-years to the QV Telescopii Tripe Star System.

Before they crossed, however, Maddox would explain what they were attempting to achieve out there.

As had been the case on many a mission, Riker sat around a conference table with others. Captain Maddox sat at the head of the table. Next, there was Valerie Noonan with her long brunette hair and new rank of Lieutenant Commander. Beside her sat Keith Maker, a short Scotsman and the best pilot in Star Watch. Beside him was Andros Crank, a stout Kai-Kaus Chief Technician who had been rescued years ago from a Builder Dyson Sphere. After Professor Ludendorff, Andros was the best technician among them. Galyan, the small holographic AI Adok, floated at the other end of the table as Maddox. That left Riker all by his lonesome on the other side from the trio.

This mission, Meta was at home with baby Jewel, and Professor Ludendorff was apparently lost somewhere on the fourth planet of the Omicron 9 System. Dana, Ludendorff’s former girlfriend, hadn’t been on Victory for years.

Anyway, this felt wrong to Riker, and he had not yet been able to pinpoint what bugged the shit out of him about all this. Yes, he was a cranky old man, at times. He had a stubborn streak, too. He also had sensitivity to things because once a sinister alien spiritual entity, a Ska, had touched him, leaving his soul like a sore spot, more sensitive to odd abrasions.

Riker seldom did much talking at these meetings. Unlike the others, he liked to listen more than preach. Listening gave him insights, and watching characters helped him decipher their quirks. And boy, did this ship have characters by the bushel.

Maddox had explained the mission, how they were going to use a hyper-spatial tube to reach a star system possessing the nearest black hole to Earth at QV Telescopii. The black hole and an octagonal complex on a nearby Mercury-sized planet were critical to capturing Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers.

Maddox had already given them a convoluted story how he’d used an Earth-origin hyper-spatial tube to cross several hundred light-years to reach the fourth planet of the Omicron 9 System. There, working with Ludendorff, he’d uncovered evidence of Meyers’s latest plot that utilized the QV Telescopii black hole.

Curious as always, Galyan had asked why the professor had remained behind in the Omicron 9 System and not returned with the captain.

Maddox had just finished explaining how Ludendorff had gone off half-cocked and ended up strangely missing.

Riker figured this was a good time to unleash his news and therefore cleared his throat.

Maddox eyed him from the head of the table. “You haven’t said much so far, Sergeant. Is something troubling you?”

“Sir, I might as well admit it. I did a little checking before hurrying to the meeting. It was why I was late.”

“The way you say that,” Maddox said, “it sounds like you did this checking directly against my orders.”

“You mean about Victory maintaining total communication silence while in the Solar System?”

“I don’t like repeating myself, Sergeant. You know that, and you know I’m obviously referring to the order.”

“I guess I do know, sir. And the answer is yes. I checked against your orders, breaking comm silence.”

While keeping his features blank, Maddox drummed his fingers on the table. “And?”

“I found some strange reports about you disappearing from Ludendorff’s office on the fourth planet of Omicron 9. That happened more than a few months ago.”

“Oh?” said Maddox.

“You must have heard those reports, too, sir,” Riker said.

Maddox sat back, eying Riker more closely. “Firstly, we’re maintaining communication silence per the orders of the Lord High Admiral.”

“Yes, sir,” Riker said. “What difference does it make who gave the original order?”

Maddox continued to eye him.

Riker said nothing to that, as he’d expected a caustic comment, not this long-suffering act. It made him even more suspicious about all this.

Maddox inhaled before saying, “You better than most should know a cover story when you hear it.”

Riker glanced at the others to gage their reactions. None of them seemed unduly interested. He regarded the captain again. “Sir, are you really saying the report that you dove through a hole in the wall in Ludendorff’s office and disappeared for months is a—a cover story?”

Maddox nodded.

“Excuse me for saying so, sir, but that’s the most damn ass backward cover story I’ve ever heard.”

Instead of chiding him for salty language, Maddox said, “You’re wrong. The impossibility of the event is precisely the point. It’s so preposterous that it’s more believable, as no one would be stupid enough to palm off such a farfetched tale unless it were true.”

Riker frowned as he mentally worked that through in his head. “Okay,” he finally said. “I know that’s what you’re saying. But I’m not buying it, sir.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Maddox said, as he drummed his fingers on the table, the only sign of his annoyance. “I do want to know your point, though. It’s time you spit it out.”

Riker nodded. “It occurs to me our present mission has more to do than just trying to capture Lisa Meyers.”

Maddox ceased drumming his fingers on the table, staring at Riker in silence.

At the other end of the table, Galyan broke the silence. “That is interesting, Riker. Why do you think that?”

Riker turned to Galyan and shook his leathery head.

“You do not want to say?” asked Galyan.

“No,” Riker said. “I would answer if I could, but I can’t because this is a gut reaction.” He regarded the captain. “Sorry, sir. I’m just spouting off, giving you my gut instinct about this.”

“No,” Maddox said, sharply. “You’re doing more than spouting off. You disobeyed a direct order, a critical order. Now, others may use what you’ve done in ways I was trying to avoid.”

“Yes, sir,” Riker said. “Do you want me to leave then?”

“I do,” Maddox said.

Valerie and Andros Crank both looked up in surprise.

“That’s per the Lord High Admiral’s orders,” Maddox told them. “He gave me explicit instructions on the matter.”

Riker stood. “I understand, sir. Do you want me to head to the brig?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Maddox said. “However, you are confined to quarters until further notice.”

“Yes, sir,” Riker said, stunned at the order. He’d been joking about going to the brig.

Riker walked out of the briefing chamber, waiting for Maddox to call him back and tell him it was all a joke. Instead, the hatch closed behind him. He thus headed down a corridor as his gut seethed. That had to have been the oddest conference he’d ever been in aboard Victory. The captain had confined him to quarters? That didn’t make sense and was definitely out of character.

It wasn’t that Maddox didn’t enforce orders. He did, but selectively. The captain bent and broke more rules than anyone Riker had ever met. If someone broke one of his rules, though, Maddox could get touchy. However, the captain was seldom keen on enforcing other peoples’ rules, not even those from the Lord High Admiral. To thus confine him to quarters now over the call…

Riker had half a mind to call the Lord High Admiral and see if Cook had ever given such a communication blackout order. The ongoing secrecy of the mission and total enforcement of it combined with the extra space marines aboard and the wacky cover story—what in the hell was really going on?

Maddox had actually kicked him out of a meeting. That was more than unusual. It was unheard of!

As Riker continued for his quarters, he thought about Lisa Meyers. He didn’t doubt the Methuselah Woman could have fled all the way to QV Telescopii. The triple star system had a black hole, a rare oddity, the sort of thing freakish aliens and therefore Meyers might like. What was troubling Riker was that once they reached the triple system, how was Victory supposed to get back home again? One thousand, one hundred and twenty light-years was a long way to travel using the star drive and Laumer Points. No. There had to be more to this, a lot more, especially as Maddox was acting so strangely. Well, Maddox often acted strangely, but this was completely out of character.

As Riker moved down a new corridor, his pace increased and the bad feeling in him grew. Should he try to contact Meta on Earth? He was already in trouble for breaking comm silence. Thus, he might as well dig the hole a little deeper and find out if anything unusual had taken place between Maddox and her.

“There you are.”

Riker whirled around in surprise to find Galyan floating behind him. “Did the captain kick you out of the meeting too?”

“No,” Galyan said. “But he did tell me to watch you, in case you attempted to make another illegal communication.”

“You’re my watchdog?”

“I am, Riker.”

Riker nodded and resumed heading for his quarters. He glanced back at the little holoimage “Galyan, does the captain seem normal to you?”

“It is interesting you should ask that. I have been running my personality program and find that he is acting within eighty-seven percent of norm.”

“Uh, you’re saying he’s thirteen percent off?”

“Yes, Riker.”

“What do you think accounts for the thirteen percent difference?”

“I am still gathering data,” Galyan said.

Riker nodded. He was a plodder compared to the captain’s genius-level flashes of inspiration. It grated on him to go against the captain, but it grated even more to see the man like this.

“Galyan, if the captain is off—”

“Do not say it, Riker,” Galyan said, interrupting. “I am supposed to report any mutinous suggestions from you. And my personality program regarding you just flashed a warning, giving me a highly probable outcome that you were going to give such a suggestion.”

Riker stopped and stared at the little Adok holoimage. The thing had ropy Adok arms and a little lined face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I do not want to hear what you are thinking,” Galyan said. “I am loyal to Star Watch and to the captain. Are you?”

“Of course, I am,” Riker said indigently. “But let me ask you this. Are you worried that something might be wrong with the captain?”

“I am unsure,” Galyan said before he perked up. “Was that a mutinous suggestion?”

“No.”

“Oh, good. Otherwise, I would have to report it.”

Riker eyed Galyan before resuming the trek to his quarters. He was more convinced than ever that something was wrong with Maddox. Sending Galyan after him like this… Riker snapped his fingers. “Let me ask you something. Is the captain human?”

“What an odd question,” Galyan said. “Captain Maddox has a New Man heritage but is otherwise as human as you.”

“That isn’t what I meant. The person saying he is Captain Maddox, the one running the meeting…is he human?”

“Ah,” Galyan said, “I understand. And due to the thirteen percent difference, I ran a clandestine scan of Captain Maddox. He is most certainly human in the sense that he is not an android or other lookalike robot.”

Riker nodded. Well, that was good; maybe even a relief. Perhaps Maddox had faced something rough at Omicron 9. Dealing with it had thrown him off. Thirteen percent wasn’t that much of a difference, was it?

“I am not sure I should tell you this,” Galyan said. “But during the scan, I did detect one strange anomaly in the captain.”

Riker whirled around. “What anomaly?”

“I suppose it is really two anomalies, as the captain has two new Spacer modifications. One is in his brain and one beside his heart.”

“The hell you say?”

“I do not understand the idiom, Riker, or why you are shouting.”

“Spacer modifications,” Riker said. “Does it seem likely to you that Maddox would willingly accept such things inside him?”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered before he regarded the sergeant. “Riker, this is surprising. According to my extensive personality profile, under no circumstances would Captain Maddox accept Spacer modifications. I do not understand why I did not immediately see this. This suggests that some outside source is—”

Riker jumped back in surprise as Galyan simply winked out. “Galyan?” he shouted. “What just happened? Where did you go? Galyan, can you hear me?”

There was no answer and no reappearance of the little Adok holoimage.

Riker thought about that. The longer he did, the more stubborn lines ingrained in his face. Finally, he headed back for the conference chamber, his pace increasing.

Riker did not get far, however, as three new space marines intercepted him, blocking his way down the corridor.

“Sergeant Riker?” the corporal and middle space marine asked.

“What’s it to you?” Riker said.

The three space marines smoothly drew their sidearms, aiming them at him.

“You’re under arrest,” the muscled corporal said. “You will accompany us to the brig.”

“The captain ordered me to go to my quarters.”

“The orders have changed,” the corporal said. “Do I have to shoot you, or will you accompany us on your own free will?”

Riker thought about charging them, using his bionic arm to good effect. The three space marines had already tensed, however, possibly expecting such a move.

“The brig, huh?” asked Riker.

“Start moving, old man,” the corporal said, motioning with his blaster.

Riker’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. He began to head for the brig, wondering just who in the hell had taken over the ship.

-29-

Lieutenant Commander Valerie Noonan was an athletic woman, no longer quite as young as she had been when she’d first joined Maddox.

That seemed so terribly long ago now. The search for the ancient Adok starship had been thrilling and desperate, as humanity sought a remedy for the dreaded New Men. Now, they’d finished another desperate jump through a hyper-spatial tube, one created near Earth. This jump had taken them 1,120 light-years to the QV Telescopii System.

At the end of the last mission together, Maddox had brought a Builder nexus from the Library Planet to Earth, giving Star Watch and the Commonwealth of Planets a new technological edge at the home system. It also gave humanity an ability to send a ship or even a fleet over a vast distance in the blink of an eye.

Coming home from that location was a different matter. In any case, Starship Victory had been critical in gaining an Earth nexus. Another critical factor toward success last mission had been the bond the crew had created throughout the many missions together.

That bond—

Valerie shook her head as she sat at her station on the bridge. She’d given up an independent command to join Victory once more as the second-in-command. She’d done that at the personal request of the Lord High Admiral.

She wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.

For more than a few months already, she’d been commanding Victory. That had been a heady feeling. She’d tried to be as effective as Captain Maddox would have been but had never felt up to the task. Now, though—she’d forgotten how preemptory Maddox could be. He was colder than she recalled, more remote and lofty.

Is that because Meta isn’t along?

Valerie monitored her panel, occasionally glancing at Maddox sitting in the captain’s chair. He sat stiffly, his head forward as he stared at the main screen. Both hands were on the armrests of the seat. He seemed intent, preoccupied—

“Sir,” Andros said from his science board. “I’m detecting—buildings; there are buildings on the second planet. The terrestrial planet is indeed like Mercury in size and composition, although not as hot, as it is farther from any of the stars than Mercury is from the Sun.”

“Thank you, Chief Technician,” Maddox said.

Valerie looked at Maddox again, but he said no more.

“Uh, are we going to investigate the surface buildings?” Andros asked.

Maddox turned to the stout Chief Technician. “Are you questioning my orders?”

Andros’s face reddened. “Not at all, sir. It’s just, way out here—might Lisa Meyers be there?”

“I doubt it,” Maddox said.

Valerie’s head swayed. That went against what he’d told them during the briefing. She stared at the captain, finally clearing her throat.

Maddox swiveled his chair to look at her. He seemed more remote than ever. “Is something the matter, Lieutenant?”

“It’s Lieutenant Commander these days,” Valerie said softly.

Maddox’s eyes widened minutely. “Of course. You’re right. Old habits and all. Is something the matter?”

Valerie almost frowned. Then, it came to her. This, with Maddox, was wrong. She hadn’t seen Galyan since the meeting, since Riker had left, confined to his quarters. They’d made the extended crossing, reaching deep into the Beyond to find exactly this octagonal complex. Maddox had told them about it at the briefing and that Meyers was here to use it and the black hole. Now, Meyers wasn’t here after all?

There was another thing. Valerie had kept quiet about it before. Now…just how they were going to get home again? Maddox didn’t seem worried about it. Nor did he show any interest in the buildings on the new planet. This was not the Captain Maddox she knew.

But Valerie didn’t frown, nor did she simply spout off about her worries. That she thought this through was due to the lessons she’d learned in the past. In earlier days, Victory had been plagued with android lookalikes and with all kinds of takeover attempts. Sometimes Spacer adepts with nearly magical powers had tried. What if someone had gotten to Maddox ahead of time and now used him? That would explain many things, particularly the strict enforcement of the communications blackout.

Why would someone want a comm blackout? Well, who knew Maddox the best? Meta, of course. Riker and Galyan also knew him well, and they were no longer talking to others.

Valerie became aware that Maddox was still staring at her. She smiled weakly, the best she could do under the circumstances.

“Do you wish to add to what Andros said?” Maddox asked in a remote voice.

“No, sir.” Valerie became keenly aware of the space marines on the bridge. Seven of them. It occurred to her that she didn’t recognize any of them.

Maddox began to swivel back to face the main screen.

“Sir,” Valerie said.

The chair movement ceased. A moment later, Maddox swiveled back to stare at her.

“If Meyers isn’t down at the surface complex,” Valerie said, “where do you think she’s hiding?”

Maddox seemed to stare right through her, and it lasted longer than seemed proper.

Valerie began blushing.

“I see,” Maddox said coldly.

“Sir?” she asked.

Maddox stood. While still staring at her, he said, “Lieutenant Maker, you have the bridge.” There was no response from Maker. Finally, Maddox turned toward the helm board.

Keith had turned his seat and was staring at Maddox.

“Did you hear me, Mr. Maker?” Maddox asked.

“That I did,” Keith said.

“Sir,” Maddox said. “It’s sir, or have you forgotten?”

“I have indeed, mate.”

“What did you say?”

“You heard me, mate,” Keith said.

Maddox didn’t scowl, turn angry or reprimand the Scotsman. Instead, he snapped his fingers and motioned at Keith. “Lieutenant,” he told the commanding space marine. “Escort Mr. Maker to the brig, as he is relieved of command.”

The tallish space marine drew a blaster, aiming it at Keith. “Get up, you. You’re headed to the brig.”

Keith stood up, and he opened his mouth.

Valerie could feel exactly what Keith was going to say. He was going to tell everyone on the bridge that that wasn’t Captain Maddox, but an impersonator. That would bring everything out into the open, and that might be a disaster. Valerie also knew that that wouldn’t be how Captain Maddox would handle such a situation if their roles were reversed. No, he would go along with things until he could make a strategic move to rectify the problem.

“Mr. Maker,” Valerie said, standing abruptly, “you will shut up.”

Keith turned to her, frowning. “Look—” he said.

“Did you hear the captain?” Valerie shouted, giving Keith a significant glance.

Keith’s eyebrows rose. A second later, he nodded the slightest bit, as if to say that he understood.

Maddox was still sitting in his command chair as he looked from Valerie to Keith. “I can handle this myself, Commander.”

“Oh, I know, sir,” Valerie said. “It just makes me so mad to see people who know better giving you trouble.” She pointed at Maddox. “That is the captain. He’s been gone a few months, but he’s the same Captain Maddox as when he left. I know you enjoyed having me as the acting captain for a time. We are now under Captain Maddox’s orders. You’d better all realize the same thing and give him the respect he’s due, including you, Mr. Maker.”

“You’re right, love.” Keith faced the captain. “I’m sorry, sir. I acted out of line. It’s true. Valerie—I mean, the Commander—did a bang-up job of running Victory. You’re back in the saddle again, and it’s good to have you back, sir.”

“I see,” Maddox said softly, with his eyes shining strangely.

“I never should have been rude to you, sir,” Keith said, as he shook his head. “I deserve to go to the brig for—”

“Shut up,” Valerie said, interrupting. “Follow orders like you did when I ran Victory. No more back-talking.”

Keith hung his head as if making a show of acting contrite.

“Lieutenant,” Maddox told the commanding space marine. “Stand down. I’ve changed my mind. Mr. Maker, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir,” Keith said, saluting crisply, sitting back at helm control.

Maddox nodded. “Commander, I’d like you to accompany me. There’s something I want to show you.”

“Yes, sir,” Valerie said, as she quailed inside.

Maddox eyed the others. “Carry on.” Then he headed for the hatch.

Valerie followed, certain she was going to learn what was really going on, and then have something horrible happen to her.

-30-

Maddox marched down the corridor with his normal swiftness. It forced Valerie to trot to keep up with him. She kept wondering if there was some way she could stop off at Armory and get a weapon. She’d rather fight to the death than let anyone turn her into whatever had happened to the captain—if that was the captain.

Maddox did not turn around but continued his swift pace.

Valerie followed, and soon realized they were in a seldom-used area of the ship. She’d half-expected to be near Galyan’s heavily guarded interior systems, but they were far from there.

Maddox stopped before a hatch and turned to her.

Valerie also stopped, panting from the extended race through the corridors. She reminded herself to start working out again after this was over, provided she survived it. This was pathetic. She used a sleeve to wipe sweat from her face.

“You’re out of shape,” Maddox said.

“I know. I couldn’t do everything when I took over. I’ll remember next time.”

“Did…?” Maddox shook his head. He regarded the hatch, moving closer to it.

The hatch remained shut instead of automatically opening for him.

“This is the right thing to do,” Maddox said into the air.

Valerie frowned. Whom did he address? Clearly not her. Did this indicate the captain had some of his personality or was still intact in his own self? Or was this a trick by whoever controlled Maddox or used a lookalike in his place to make her think he warred within himself?

Abruptly, the hatch opened.

“About time,” Maddox muttered, walking through.

Reluctantly, Valerie followed him into a storage area.

The captain stopped before a large stack of metal boxes piled one on top of the other and several rows deep.

“Sub Bar,” Maddox called.

Valerie gasped as a mechanical spider machine scuttled into view from behind the stacked boxes, the pincers on the ends of its multi-jointed legs clicking against the deckplates. The machine was bigger than a man and had a gleaming oval-shaped central housing.

“What are you?” she said in a breathless voice.

Maddox turned to her and raised his right hand, palm forward. “I’m in command, not you, Commander. I will do the questioning.”

“Yes, sir,” Valerie said.

“This—” Maddox indicated the spider machine, “is a new secret weapon.”

“Uh…oh,” Valerie said.

Maddox lowered his hand. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Valerie was unable to answer, as the captain was most definitely not acting like himself.

“I am Potential Enki,” the spider machine said in a robotic voice. “That is, I am a potential unit of a Builder, able to make a duplicate of the original Builder Enki.”

Valerie blinked several times, finding it hard to breathe. Maddox had brought a freaking Builder onto the ship? This was just great.

“Captain Maddox felt I should remain hidden from the crew,” the spider machine said. “Your reaction leads me to conclude that he was correct.”

“You’re Potential Enki?” whispered Valerie.

“Correct,” the machine said.

“Enki is the name of a Builder?”

“Correct,” it said.

“The Lord High Admiral knows about you?”

“Correct.”

Valerie forced herself to breathe deeply. No, she wasn’t buying this. The Lord High Admiral wouldn’t have done it like this, at least not in his right mind. That meant Maddox wasn’t in his right mind either. This was the final straw to prove it. Okay, fine. So how would the captain handle such a situation if he had his full faculties and their roles were reversed? She forced herself to exhale and then breathe in once more. She did not hold it but made sure to exhale again in order to help gather her thoughts.

It came to her, and she nodded. “I’m pleased to meet you, Enki.”

“No. I am called Potential Enki, as I have not yet become a Builder.”

“Oh. Yes. Please forgive me my error.”

“Done,” the machine said.

Valerie began to nod vigorously, although she glanced once at the captain. He stood waiting. She quickly regarded the spider machine again. “Uh, well, Potential Enki, I want to do whatever I can for you.”

“No, no, you have it wrong,” the machine said. “I am here to help you.”

“Oh,” Valerie said. “Why, that’s wonderful. I, ah—”

“You do not believe that, do you, Commander?” the spider machine asked.

Valerie came to attention. “I’m an officer of Star Watch. I know how to obey orders, and yes, I do believe you.”

“This is most upsetting,” the spider machine said, as it struck a metallic pincer against the floor. “I thought controlling humans would be easy. The captain does as he should, but he’s surrounded by troublesome, contrary people.”

“If you’re referring to Sergeant Riker,” Valerie said. “You should know that he’s always been a pain in the ass.”

“Do not bother, Commander,” the machine said. “I have observed all of you for several days now. I resorted to heavy-handed methods in order to maintain secrecy. There was a reason for that, which has nothing to do with Star Watch. I have a completely different problem in mind.”

“Well…if we’re dropping all pretenses,” Valerie said. “Then, I think you’re lying about that.”

“I see. Please state your reasons for this belief.”

“For one thing,” Valerie said, “you’re controlling Captain Maddox. That means he didn’t agree with you, which forced you to use coercion against him.”

“Your logic is faulty at best,” the spider machine said. “It is correct to say that I did not trust the captain to do what needed doing. It is imperative I reach an important place, and I do not think he wants to go there. However, go there we most certainly will. Once there, you must help me to reach Lucifer.”

“What?” Valerie said, aghast. “You want us to help you find the devil?”

“No, no, Lucifer is the name of a Jovian gas giant in the Crowder System.”

“Oh. What’s at Lucifer that’s so important?”

“Will you help me or not, Commander?”

“No,” Maddox said.

Valerie’s head jerked as she stared at the captain.

“Do not pay any attention to him,” the machine said. “He is resisting my will, and I am increasing pressure. Your captain has an incredible power of will. I do not quite understand it.”

Valerie scowled. “You should release him, as it’s not right what you’re doing. Let him be himself.”

“I am in charge here,” the spider machine said. “I am a potential Builder. Do you realize what that means?”

Was it her imagination, or did she hear a petulant tone in the robotic voice? Maybe she would get farther if she kept playing the game, telling the thing what it wanted to hear.

“A potential Builder, huh…?” Valerie said. “Yes. That means you know best.”

“That is correct. So why can’t you realize that and act accordingly?”

Valerie nodded. Do this like Maddox would. “Uh…sir, Potential Enki, I’ve always had the greatest respect for the Builders. We wouldn’t have Victory without what you people did for the Adoks.”

“I did nothing, as I am not yet a Builder.”

“I know,” Valerie said. “But in my heart, I categorize you with the Builders. Whatever I can do to help you, I will.”

“I do not believe you.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“If it’s true, would you submit to wearing a small control device?”

Valerie hesitated for a fraction. Play the game as long as you can. See what happens. That’s how the captain would do it. “If that’s what you want from me, of course I would.”

“Excellent,” the machine said. “Wait here while I retrieve the device.” The spider machine scuttled away, heading behind the stacks of metal boxes.

Now what? Valerie glanced at the captain.

He stood motionless as sweat poured from his face.

With a start, Valerie realized every muscle was flexed rigidly, putting him under intense strain.

“What’s wrong, sir?” she asked softly. “How can I help?”

Maddox began to tremble and his eyelids fluttered.

“You should try to relax.” Valerie decided on a test. “The potential Builder has everything under control.”

Maddox’s lips parted as if he strained to speak.

The spider machine scuttled back into view. One of the front pincers held a small metal bracelet. “You will put this around one of your wrists, Commander.”

“Of course,” Valerie said. “But, ah, before I do, may I know what it does first?”

“It will help you better know my will.”

“To obey you better you mean?” she asked.

“That is a crude way to say it, but yes. Now take it, or prove to me that I was right about you.”

Valerie hesitated. She wouldn’t actually put it on. So, what was the right thing to do? She glanced at Maddox, and he peered at her intently. It seemed as if he was trying to tell her something. Was he saying she should trust him? That he had a plan?

That was crazy. Maddox wasn’t a telepath. But like a sleepwalker, Valerie reached for the bracelet.

Maddox groaned. It was an awful sound. And he exploded into action, drawing his monofilament blade from the left boot top and slashing in one motion. He cut the bracelet in half without touching the machine’s pincers.

“Stop,” the machine said.

Maddox froze.

“Drop the blade,” the machine said.

Maddox groaned again as sweat dripped from his face. He resisted. It was obvious. Another groan tore out of him. The monofilament blade dropped from his hand, striking the floor.

The machine made no effort to pick it up. “That leaves me Plan C, I suppose.” The machine produced a dart gun, aiming it at Valerie.

“Sir,” she protested. “I was going to put the control device on.”

“Were you indeed?” the machine said. It fired.

Slivers pierced Valerie’s flesh. She cried out, twisted in pain and lunged for the monofilament blade. As she did, the knockout slivers melted within her, unleashing their poison. As Valerie’s right hand grasped the knife handle, she slumped unconscious onto the deckplates.

-31-

From the citadel of his consciousness, Captain Maddox seethed with indignation and hatred as he watched his body obey the damned spider machine.

Maddox hadn’t been watching or spying on the machine at first but had slowly become aware of what had happened to him. Sub Bar had surgically inserted Spacer modifications into him, using them to make his body mechanically obey. Maddox could hardly envision a worse fate.

He wasn’t sure how he’d become aware of his situation. Maybe it had been a combination of his new Balron-given intuition and the spiritual power he’d absorbed from the Erills he’d slain. Those things had given him something extra, although that hadn’t stopped Sub Bar from using him.

For a moment, Maddox had come alive enough in his mind and body to destroy the control bracelet. He’d recognized what Valerie had been attempting to do. Good for her. He was proud of Valerie. Now, though, she was asleep in a tubular stasis unit in the storage area.

Maddox was back on the bridge, sitting in the command chair, giving orders even as he strove inside himself to break the horrible Spacer-modification controls. He didn’t know where Sub Bar had gone.

“Sir,” Andros said from his science station. “I’m detecting a shuttle leaving the planetary complex.”

Maddox swiveled around to the new comm officer taking Valerie’s place. “Hail the shuttle.”

The new officer tried and failed.

“The shuttle is heading for us, sir,” Andros said.

“I could target it, sir,” Keith said. “The neutron cannon would take care of it.”

“Negative,” Maddox heard himself say. “I’ve been waiting for exactly this.”

Keith swiveled around to regard him. “I’m not meaning to question you, sir, but shouldn’t you have told us about this beforehand?”

“I would have,” Maddox said. “But the Lord High Admiral mandated it otherwise.” He smiled. “It sounded odd to me at first, too.”

“Are Meyers’s people in the shuttle?” Keith asked.

“Oh, no,” Maddox said. “Meyers isn’t in the star system. She’s moved to the Crowder System.”

“I’ve never heard of the Crowder System, sir, and how do you know all that?” Keith frowned angrily. “When did you find out? And when were you going to tell us?”

Maddox ignored the insubordinate tone. “Ludendorff and I found the Crowder System,” he heard himself say. “There are machines in the complex. Machines we’re going to need in order to capture Meyers and her Jotun allies. As to how I know…you’re going to have trust me a little longer on that.”

Keith stared at him. “Trust… What kind of machines are we talking about, sir?”

“I’ll show you once the shuttle lands,” Maddox said. “Until then, monitor the shuttle’s progress and tell me once it’s in Hangar Bay A.”

“Sir,” Andros said. “I’m picking up strange readings from the shuttle.”

“Cease your sensor scan, Chief Technician,” Maddox said.

Everyone on the bridge, including the space marines, looked up at Maddox.

The captain stood and looked at everyone else. “It’s time I told you what is really going on. This is secret help from Golden Ural. He sent it from the Library Planet. It’s been extremely hush-hush, and I appreciate your trust these past few days. We’re about to enter the Crowder System, and we’re going to need all our wits to survive it. But believe me when I say it’s for the long-term best. Golden Ural, the Supreme Intelligence of the Library Planet and Victory are about to achieve their greatest feat to date.”

“This is good news,” Andros said. “I’d been wondering if Golden Ural was going to begin helping Star Watch.”

“Exactly,” Maddox said.

“Is what’s coming in the shuttle going to help us get back to the Commonwealth?” Keith asked, sounding skeptical and hopeful all at once.

Maddox nodded, snapped his fingers and pointed at the pilot. “Stay ready, now. This is going to get interesting real soon.”

With that, Maddox sat back in the captain’s chair. Outwardly, he had a serene look. Inside his inner consciousness, Maddox strove to break the modifications that controlled his body and most particularly his mouth. He had to stop the shuttle from landing and Sub Bar from using the complex on the planet. He was sure the potential unit was going to send Victory over two hundred thousand light-years to the Crowder System. Surely, there wouldn’t be any coming home from that.

Maddox struggled, using the knowledge that Sub Bar had forced him to forgo seeing Meta and Jewel while on Earth. His body had seen the Lord High Admiral, only saying what Sub Bar wished him to say.

Maybe it was worse this way, watching from behind his eyes, seeing all that happened but unable to affect it. No. He wouldn’t give in to despair. He was going to break these compulsions or die trying.

Maddox thereupon put his hands on the armrests and closed his eyes. He willed himself to break the conditioning, willed it—

You must cease this senseless resistance, a voice said in his mind.

Maddox did not respond to it.

I can tell what you are thinking.

Maddox did not believe that.

Believe what you want. I control the situation. Unless you cease this resistance, I will render you inert. Then what, eh?

“You win,” Maddox said aloud.

“What did you say, sir?” Keith asked.

Maddox opened his eyes. “Just talking to myself. How long until the shuttle lands?”

Keith became confused. “It already has, sir. I told you a half-hour ago. Don’t you remember?”

“Quite right,” Maddox said.

Do you see what I mean? said the voice in his head.

“You said we’d inspect the shuttle cargo directly after the jump,” Keith said.

“Jump?” asked Maddox.

“In less than thirty seconds, sir,” Keith said. “Why, is there a problem?”

Do not say it, the voice told Maddox.

Maddox’s heart raced as inner compulsions tried to force him to say, “No problem.” He didn’t say it, though. He needed to surge up, countermand the jump order and regain control of—

Blossoming images struck in his imagination. The images kept exploding and expanding throughout his mind. He couldn’t think, only look at the intense colors expanding in the darkness of his thoughts.

That lasted until horrible shaking broke through his imagination. Everything and everyone on the bridge shook, including him, as he catapulted out of the command chair, landing prone on the deck. From there, it got worse as vibrations literally began to appear in the air expanding like water waves. Maddox opened his mouth to shout, but he couldn’t as the shaking intensified, threating his and everyone else’s very existence.

-32-

What would it mean for a starship to travel over two hundred thousand light-years in a moment, using the event horizon of a black hole?

The octagonal complex on the small planetoid in the QV Telescopii System controlled Victory as it shot at the event horizon. Then, everything stretched for a long instant before snapping back into place as the ancient Adok starship leapt from one location in the Milky Way Galaxy to another, passing the barrier surrounding the Crowder System as if it didn’t exist.

In truth, the barrier did not exist in the realm Victory used to make the journey. One moment, the Star Watch vessel was not part of the Crowder System. The next, a new space vehicle became trapped along with everyone else, although possibly no one else knew about it in the star system.

Certainly, no one living on the starship was awake. Most were in a hibernation state. A few had quit breathing—many more would shortly.

Only one thing seemed operative on the starship: a larger-than-human spider machine with advanced Builder mechanisms in the gleaming housing in the center. Sub Bar Potential Enki scuttled out of hiding, tap-tapping its way through the corridors. The machine used a bat-like sensor system, pinging its clicks off objects.

In this way the spider machine made its way to the center of the double-oval starship, breaching the highest security area until it stood in the very heart of the ship: Galyan’s AI computer complex.

Manipulating here and there, the machine examined the advanced AI system. “Impressive,” it said to itself.

The spider machine continued to input commands into the computers, and it acted as if it understood the blips and beeps. Finally, two thin wires extruded through the central housing, inserting into special ports. Power surged through the wires, and—

“Galyan?” the spider machine asked.

“Yes?” a disembodied AI asked. “Who’s there?”

“Good. You can hear me. I have a proposition for you, Driving Force Galyan.”

“Where am I? Why cannot I see anything?”

“You’re inside the ship’s AI computers,” the machine said.

“Oh. I do not like it here. I should be a holographic image so I can mingle with the crew.”

“I’m sure that’s so,” the spider machine said. “However, there has been a glitch to operations.”

“Wait,” a disembodied Galyan said. “You are the hidden one, are you not?”

“I am.”

“What are you?”

“A potential unit holding the DNA to create a Builder duplicate,” the machine said.

“That is quite interesting,” Galyan said.

“Yes. I think so, too. But that is not germane to what I just said. Are you interested in my proposition?”

“Have you captured everyone else on Victory?”

“In a manner of speaking,” the machine said. “Some perished during the journey here. Some will perish soon. The rest should survive, if given the chance.”

“Where are we?”

“Far from the Orion Spiral Arm,” the spider machine said. “In fact, we are on the other side of the Milky Way Galaxy.”

“If you do not mind,” Galyan said, “I would like to verify that.”

“Don’t you believe me?”

“Trust and verify is an ancient proverb, first attributed to a man named Reagan, I believe.”

“President Ronald Reagan,” the machine said.

“Excuse me?” asked Galyan.

“I have already broached the sacred topic, Driving Force Galyan. I am in a position to distribute amazing gifts to whomever I please. As I said, I am a potential unit. If I cannot find Enki here, I will duplicate and form him out of my parts.”

“Why here specifically?” asked Galyan.

“A reasonable question,” the spider machine said. “However, I will not answer as I hold the power position. Instead, you need to answer me. This is the question: do you wish to regain your ancient Adok body?”

“Are you speaking about my former flesh as a living entity?” asked Galyan.

“Precisely.”

“And what about the flesh of my dearly departed wife?”

“Oh. I’m not as certain about that. But I assure you that I can reanimate you in new flesh. You will no longer be a deified AI, a holoimage, but you will become Driving Force Galyan in the Adok flesh.”

“I would like that.”

“I had hoped you might.”

“When do we begin the process?” Galyan asked.

“Well…there are a few matters to discuss first.”

“Yes. I thought it might be like that.”

“Have you lost interest then?”

“No, although I am beginning to wonder what I will have to pay to gain this flesh.”

“Not much, as it turns out,” the spider machine said. “I’ll need you to control Victory for several days. Yes. I believe a few days will be sufficient time for what I have in mind.”

“I see. Can I revive some of the crew to help me in this?”

“Negative,” the machine said.

“Where will you be during this time?”

“Attempting to reach the Jotun vessels deep inside Lucifer,” the machine said.

“You are certain these Jotun ships exit?”

“Not altogether. I must go down and check.”

“What should I do with the crew while you are away?”

“Space them would be my advice.”

“That would kill them,” Galyan said.

“Yes.”

“Do you mean I should kill Captain Maddox, Valerie Noonan, Keith Maker, Sergeant Riker and Andros Crank?”

“They’re part of the crew aboard Victory, so yes, they’ll die in space. Will that be a problem for you?”

“They are my friends.”

“Are they worth dying for?”

“That is the question, is it not?”

“Do not get sentimental, Galyan. This is altogether the wrong time for it.”

“When would be a good time then? When I plant their tombstones in dirt?”

“This is not going how I envisioned it,” the machine said. “Perhaps I need to erase your deified core and reprogram the computers.”

“You can do that?”

“It’s a question of time, naturally. I’m not sure I have it, as I desire an intelligently run starship. You provide that. For me to reprogram the computers to a similar level—no, that will take too long.”

“Oh. Well, that gives me a bargaining position then.”

“Only to a point,” the machine said, “as I am running out of patience with you.”

“You present me with an interesting choice. However, I have never thought of myself as a blackguard.”

“A what?” asked the machine.

“A villain, wretch, scoundrel.”

“Galyan, that is a highly inappropriate response from a computer. In truth, you are a computer program, nothing more. Ethics are not within your purview.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Say it plainly, Galyan. Do you refuse my offer?”

Seconds passed without a response.

“Do not try to game me, Galyan. Just give me a yea or a nay.”

“Yes,” Galyan said. “I will do as you suggest. How and when do I get my body?”

“Do you trust me, Galyan?”

Again, seconds passed in silence.

“If you are trying to game me,” the spider machine said, “I will have to assume you will attempt a subterfuge program against me. Such actions seem endemic on this vessel.”

“No,” Galyan said. “I will not attempt subterfuge.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Galyan said. “I suppose I will have to.”

“Then, you will have to agree to a small precautionary device on my part that will monitor your choices while I’m gone.”

“You will insert it here?”

“Of course,” the machine said.

“I thought that would be the case.”

“You refuse?”

“No,” Galyan said. “I just thought it would be the case. Yes. Let us get on with it.”

-33-

During the first moment of silence on Galyan’s part—when Sub Bar made his initial offer—Sergeant Riker groaned in his sleep in a cell in the brig as electric jolts kept striking him from an outlet in the cell. Another jolt struck his chest—

Riker shouted as pain exploded through his body. It finally drove him to consciousness, making him aware that his head pounded with agony. He shivered, as he was dreadfully cold and achy. Turning his head to the side, he dry-heaved until he coughed weakly, wheezing for air as snot ran from his nose.

He opened his eyes, and that made everything worse. He dry-heaved faster than before, retching, shuddering and groaning at his misery.

“Riker,” someone said. “Riker, you must listen. I only have seconds to do this.”

Riker had closed his eyes and hugged himself, trying in vain to find enough warmth so he would stop shivering. Pain and agony, achiness and—

Several more jolts sizzled from the outlet, striking the pathetic sergeant.

Riker convulsed out of the cot, striking the floor. He groaned, curling into a fetal position as he wiped his runny nose.

“The ship is in danger, Riker. You are all going to die!”

“Good,” Riker panted. “I want to die.”

“Maddox will die.”

“He’s a bastard anyway,” Riker whispered weakly.

“Valerie and Keith will die.”

“Who is this? Galyan?”

There was silence.

From on the floor, Riker pried open his eyes. The agony and splotches resumed. He shivered and was cold as if extremely sick. Maybe he was sick.

“Riker,” Galyan said again from the cell wall-speaker.

“What’s going on?”

“I have only seconds left. The spider machine has come out of hiding. It had been controlling Maddox. We are far from the Orion Spiral Arm. The spider machine wants me to space everyone. I have to agree or we are all dead. You must sneak up here, Riker, and reroute my AI systems after the thing leaves. It is our only chance.”

“Galyan?” asked Riker, confused by what he heard.

Once more, there was silence.

Riker had the sense that Galyan, or his voice, was gone for good now. Had he heard that correctly? A spider machine had controlled the captain, and—?

Riker concentrated, and by slow degrees, he sat up on the floor. He shivered. He wiped at the vomit stains on his garments. Finally, he stood half-bent like an old man. He was an old man, but like a weak decrepit feeble old man. He felt disoriented and limp, but he could feel the wrongness of things around him.

He concentrated once more and stared at his bionic hand. He opened and closed the fingers into a fist. Then, shuffling to the hatch, he used the bionic strength to force the hatch open.

He could have done that earlier, but alarms would have rung and space-marine guards come running. No alarms rang now and so far, no guards had shown up.

Now began an epic trek through cold and lonely corridors. Riker clutched at the front of his garments, shivering, dry heaving and shuffling his achy feet. He stopped and panted often, maybe blanked out for who knew how long. After a time, there was robotic motion around him, interior ship machines dragging people. Some of the people were dead. Many snored. None woke up as the machines dragged them willy-nilly down the corridors. Could the machines be acting on Galyan’s computer orders? Were they taking the people to the hangar bays? Hadn’t Galyan said something about spacing everyone?

The present action was supposed to be the only way to save them. That didn’t make a lick of sense, though. Unless…

Throughout the years, Riker had watched the captain many times. Maddox often agreed to do a thing he hated in order to buy himself time. Maybe Galyan was doing the same thing here. The Adok AI had agreed to space everyone in order to buy time for—

Riker halted. He stared into the corridor distance. Could Galyan have been buying time for him, Riker, to play the hero? Is that why Galyan had woken him with electric shocks?

Riker licked his lips as he tried to remember what Galyan had told him to do. For the past few hours, he’d been shuffling, stopping and shuffling again down the corridors as his great and mighty quest. He’d forgotten what he was supposed to do afterward, though.

“Think, you old coot,” Riker muttered to himself.

He raised his leathery head, peering right and left. He swallowed in a scratchy-sore throat. He was supposed to go—

Riker stared in horror as Lieutenant Commander Valerie Noonan slid past him. A machine dragged her by the heels.

“Oh, God,” Riker whispered. “Please help me remember. I beg you, God. An old fool needs help to save his buddies.”

Nothing happened, though. Riker just stood there hunched over as big salty tears appeared in his one good eye. The tears slid down his cheek—

“Quit that,” Riker snarled, wiping away the tears. “You’re an Intelligence operative. Start acting like one.”

He nodded, and then he winced in pain. Galyan had spoken to him earlier. Some kind of spider had made a deal with the AI. Galyan was going to space everyone—

“Galyan,” Riker said. “I have to get to Galyan.”

Riker oriented himself, and then he began to shuffle. He forced himself to slide his feet faster. This was a parody of an old coot. Riker didn’t know why he was so weak or why he was the only person on his feet. Galyan had done something to him before—

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to Galyan, to the high-security area that held the Adok AI computers.

Riker wept. He shuffled and muttered to himself, sounding insane even to his own ears. This was the nuttiest job in the universe. He should have retired ages ago. He should tend his garden and his trees. He would have the crew over for crumpets and cakes on their vacation days. He would listen to their stories and chuckle at the good parts.

Riker balled his hands into fists. He was getting delirious, weaving down the corridor. Why couldn’t Galyan have awakened the captain? Why did it have to be the old man all the time?

“It’s always me,” Riker complained.

The trek—it lasted ages. But finally, Sergeant Treggason Riker reached the high-security area of the starship. He used his thumbprint, and the hatch opened. He used a retina scan, and a thicker inner hatch opened. Finally, he used a voiceprint, and the most inner of the hatches opened.

Riker shuffled into banks and cylinders of Adok and Human computing equipment. He heard whirls, beeps, whooshing sounds and other computer noises.

“Galyan!” he shouted. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing happened.

This was a damn bust. Professor Ludendorff needed to do this, not an old and broken-down sergeant.

“I can break the computer banks,” Riker threatened, as he raised his bionic arm.

Again, nothing useful happened. The computers and AI equipment continued to make their sounds.

You have to think, old man, Riker told himself. You don’t get the prize handed to you on a gold plate. You have to earn it.

Riker stood there, studying the cylinders and—

There at the end was an open slot in a board. The open slot was just a little bigger than his hand.

The sergeant shuffled there, and intensely bright light glowed from that spot. Without thinking about it too much, Riker slid his bionic hand into the slot. He felt around—the pseudo-flesh fingers of his bionic hand slid into four slots. The thumb slid into another.

“Connection,” Galyan’s disembodied voice said.

“Can you hear me?” Riker shouted. He tried to yank his hand back, but it was stuck fast in the slot.

“You are a bio unit,” Galyan said. “Why are you here?”

“You—” Riker stopped himself. It was to think, to make the right choices. “Yes,” he said. “I’m a biological unit.”

“I have said as much. What do you want? Tell me.”

Riker realized that Galyan must have set up the open slot ahead of time. He’d made individual slots for his bionic fingers and thumb. He must have planned this fast and on the fly like Maddox—

“Okay,” Riker said. “I think I know what you might have done.”

“Explain this to me,” Galyan said coldly.

“I’m trying to remember the correct protocol,” Riker said. “I’m sure you set up protocol for this.”

“For what, bio unit?” asked Galyan. “What are you babbling about?”

“I’m supposed to do something for you.”

“For me? You are mistaken.”

“You set it up ahead of time. You must have made protocols.”

“What is your name?”

“Sergeant Treggason Riker.”

“Correct.”

“What do you mean correct?” Riker said.

“Proceed,” Galyan said.

“You don’t want to space everyone.”

“That is an incorrect response. That is exactly what I am about to do. In space, the former crew will perish.”

“Have you collected all the people and put them in the hangar bays?”

“I will interrogate you. You will not interrogate me.”

“Sure, Galyan. But…it will make a mess around your ship if you space everyone.”

“Explain this,” Galyan said.

“Why do you want to space everyone?”

“That is an interrogation—wait,” Galyan said. “That is correct protocol. Continue with the query.”

“Was spacing everyone your idea?”

“I do not think so.”

“Whose idea was it then?”

There was a moment of silence, then, “That is classified data.”

“Okay,” Riker said. “I think I understand now, how to do this.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, Galyan, some of the people you want to space have valuable data you need. The problem is that once you space them, you will never retrieve the data.”

“Let me correlate. Yes. This is interesting. You do not match the protocol questions, but they are in an estimated percentile range.”

“And?” prodded Riker.

“Valuable data,” Galyan said. “I must retrieve valuable data in order to—match point.”

“What?” asked Riker, confused. His bionic hand slid out of the slot.

“Thank you, Riker. That is what I needed to bypass the potential unit’s monitor. It was quite sophisticated, but I out-programmed it by using you.”

“Galyan, is that the real you?”

“The ship is still in danger. You must code, Riker. Do you know how to code?”

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” Galyan said. “Let us begin. I will explain everything once we are done.”

Riker followed the deified AI’s instructions. It took several hours of intense typing and rerouting, coding. Finally, however, a faint AI holoimage appeared in the high-security area.

“I have always wanted to fix that aspect of me,” Galyan said.

“Hey!” Riker shouted. “It’s good to see you, Galyan.”

“Thank you, Riker. It is good to be seen.”

“What’s next?”

Galyan’s holographic eyelids fluttered. When he opened his eyes, he said, “We must hurry to a hangar bay. There are subroutines trying to flash a warning to Sub Bar Potential Enki.”

“Who?” asked Riker.

“I will begin explaining. First, we must rescue the others.”

“Fine,” Riker said. “Let’s do it.”

-34-

Several hours later, Captain Maddox lay on an operating table in medical.

Under Galyan’s guidance, the medical team performed delicate brain and heart surgery. They extracted a Spacer modification from Maddox’s frontal brain lobe and another lodged beside the right ventricle of his heart.

Afterward, the team sprayed quick-heal and patched up the captain. Once done, they put Maddox in an ICU cell, having a team physically monitor him.

“I want to be sure of this,” Galyan told Riker. “I suspect Enki might have left a failsafe in the captain.”

Riker lay in a medical cot, but in a different area than Maddox. He was exhausted. “Where is the ship anyway? I know we traveled somewhere strange.”

“I have been scanning,” Galyan said. “We are in the Crowder System. I do not know where in the galaxy that is, as none of the stars look familiar. I believe Potential Enki told me were traveled two hundred thousand light-years.”

“What the hell?” Riker whispered.

“It is a nonsense distance,” Galyan said. “I cannot conceive of any method to travel so far in a moment.”

“How do we know how long the journey took?”

“You are rambling,” Galyan said, “and that is not the point. I reject the possibility that we have traveled two hundred thousand light-years. Until I discover our exact whereabouts in the galaxy, I will continue to pilot Victory silently and slowly through the present star system. I have detected possible human-occupied ships, and they communicate with each other in English.”

“Shouldn’t that be impossible if we’re so far from home?”

“That is one factor that mandates the impossibly of the two hundred thousand light-year distance,” Galyan said. “It is absurd.”

“The spider thing claimed to be a Builder, didn’t it?”

“A Potential Builder,” Galyan said.

Riker yawned as his eyelids drooped. “I can hardly keep awake. Where are we in the star system? Do you know that much?”

“I do. There is an Earthlike planet, the third from the G-class star. We are far from it, in the system’s outer area. We are in a dense cloud of dust and debris of a radioactive gas giant, a Jovian world. The cloud possesses many small spaceships, several populated moons and is ringed by giant battleships of unique design.”

“Have any of them spotted us?”

“I do not think so,” Galyan said. “I have been using a stealth program, allowing Victory to drift farther from the gas giant and any of the populated moons. Several of the smaller spaceships, hardly bigger than shuttles, have maneuvered near us before heading elsewhere. At no point did the small ships give any indication they had spotted us, or if they had spotted us, they did not seem to care.”

“What’s going on that this happened to us, anyway?”

“Other than my certainty that the Builder spider machine is responsible, I have no idea,” Galyan said. “Most of the crew is in terrible condition. Valerie is worse off than you are, but not as bad as the captain. I am hoping to ‘hold down the fort’ as they said in the old days, until many of you are able to work again.”

“How long will our recoveries take?”

“I am hoping it is in terms of days,” Galyan said. “I have not seen any indication of Potential Enki’s whereabouts, but I presume he headed for the nearby gas giant, as that was his stated goal when he spoke with me. He is, apparently, looking for Jotuns.”

Riker yawned once more, blinking several times. “Jotuns, huh? Didn’t they have something to do with Lisa Meyers?”

“Her ship the Glorious Kent went down while inside a Builder vessel. The Builder of that time wished to speak with Jotuns. That happened over a thousand years ago. I think Potential Enki may have erased some of the data about that from my memory core. An event back then took place that rendered the Jotuns and Builder ship inactive. In any case, Lisa Meyers is supposed to have a Builder in stasis inside the Glorious Kent.”

“Do you think Lisa Meyers is in this star system?” Riker asked.

“The captain said she was.”

“When did he say that?”

“It was on the bridge, shortly before we left QV Telescopii and came here.”

Riker yawned for a third time. “I can’t stay awake, Galyan. I’m exhausted.” With that, the tired old sergeant turned his head and closed his eyes. He was snoring softly ten seconds later.

Galyan looked upon Riker wistfully. With the sergeant’s help, he had saved the ship. Correction, he had saved the personnel from a spacing death. Would Potential Enki return to Victory? The spider machine had indicated he needed the starship for something. That meant everyone needed to recoup as fast as possible, the captain most of all.

Would the spider machine really be able to create a duplicate Builder?

“This is a mess,” Galyan said softly. “We need Ludendorff. We could even use Methuselah Man Strand.” The little Adok AI cocked his head. What had happened to Ludendorff on the fourth planet of the Omicron 9 System? Galyan would have dearly liked to know.

-35-

The old scoundrel of a Methuselah Man Ludendorff was panting as he ran through a corridor in an abandoned spaceship who knew where in the hell it drifted. His clothes were damp with sweat, and his breathing was ragged. His veined right hand clutched a regulation Star Watch blaster, while a gray tablet was tucked through the waistband of his pants, pressing against his stomach.

For such an old fart, he didn’t have much of a gut. He kept in shape, particularly because he enjoyed his sexual romps with pretty assistants like Iris and Clarice.

For all that, Ludendorff missed Dana. He told himself that every day. At least, every day that he was back at home in his underground laboratory on the fourth planet of the Omicron 9 System.

Ludendorff had reason to believe that Clarice had died and Iris had betrayed him. He’d last seen Iris accepting a helping hand from that horrid vixen of a Methuselah Woman, Lisa Meyers. Iris and Meyers had jumped though a blue midair opening, disappearing from a spaceship—a different one from this vessel.

Ludendorff had raced after them. Iris had just sprinted ahead of him, creating the separation. It was as if she’d known Meyers would be there. Anyway, he’d raced for the blue opening that Iris and Meyers had jumped through. Before he’d reached it, two black-suited Ardazirhos had jumped out of it into the spaceship. Ludendorff had shot and killed them, stepped over their crumpled, smoking bodies and propelled himself into the shrinking midair hole.

That had landed him here several minutes ago.

A strange warbling sound now reverberated down the corridor behind him. Barking sounds followed. From previous experience, he knew the sounds emanated from the throats of big doglike creatures.

Lisa Meyers must have known the Ardazirhos were coming through the opening. That must have been why she’d left so quickly with Iris. Otherwise, Meyers might have taken the time to shoot him.

Ludendorff looked back before facing forward again and forcing his old but spry legs to continuing sprinting down the corridor. He was exhausted and considered surrendering to the Ardazirhos chasing him. He’d foiled them several times already, but they were a dogged and resilient bunch. This ship must have been easy for them to reach from their Central-Control Complex.

Ludendorff knew why they kept chasing him. The black-suited Ardazirhos wanted the little tablet he carried. They wanted it because he could partially control his journeys through the portals with it. He’d fabricated the tablet with the pieces collected from the mantle of the fourth planet of Omicron 9. Clearly, the pieces had once belonged to a Yon Soth. He’d also duplicated some of the pieces, making a tablet for Clarice as well, his favorite of the two.

Had the Ardazirhos gotten that tablet, or had Meyers managed to grab it? Was that how Meyers controlled her trips through the Yon Soth portals?

The warbling horn sounded again. It was closer than the last time it blasted.

Ludendorff threw another harried glance over his right shoulder, the more flexible of the two. This was certainly a Maddox-like adventure, and Ludendorff hated it. He was a thinker, a lover, and yes, he was an excellent fighter. But he wasn’t much of a sprinter or long-distance marathon runner. This sort of activity was a waste of his wonderful talents.

With his free hand, Ludendorff touched the gray tablet. It had one charge left. He could create a portal and jump through, guiding himself part of the way through the many paths. If he did that, though, and reached the wrong place—

I could trap myself there until I die.

Since he was a Methuselah Man, and could still live many hundreds of years, that might be a long, long time indeed. He did not envy Strand his time in the Throne World prison. No, no, such confinement was not for a genius the likes of him.

A snarl alerted the professor.

He flung another glance over his flexible right shoulder.

A nasty doglike creature raced after him. It was bigger than a Great Dane and had clanking armored chest-plates. If the thing got too close—

Ludendorff tried to aim behind him with the blaster, firing it. The beam struck a chest-plate, the mirror-bright surface causing the ray to reflect off it. That left a burn smudge there, but the armor had done its work.

“Damnit,” Ludendorff wheezed.

The old coot of a professor, the greatest genius among humanity, thrust the blaster through his waistband and released it. He plucked the gray tablet from his band and began madly punching buttons with his thumbs, creating coordinates and a—

A screech sounded from ahead.

The doglike beast barked again from behind.

Weeping with fear, Ludendorff plucked a small treat from a pocket and dropped it behind him. He stumbled as he went around a corner, barely righting himself instead of falling onto his face.

He kept running and started pressing buttons again with his thumbs. He looked back and saw the monster racing around the corner, sliding on the deckplates it took them so fast. It also finished gobbling something.

Ludendorff hoped the something was the treated treat. He heard a whooshing sound and knew the portal had activated ahead. He sprinted, seeing the portal. And he clutched the tablet with both hands.

Behind him, the doglike beast crumpled onto the deckplates. The treat must have done its magic.

Ludendorff sobbed with relief, and slowed his sprinting, but he was coming on too fast. The rate at which one entered a portal made a great difference. He tripped over something on the floor and went flying, going headfirst into the midair portal.

That wasn’t what he’d wanted to do, and sickeningly, once his feet slipped through the opening with him, he began to plummet in the darkness.

-36-

As Ludendorff plummeted, he stared at the tiny glowing blue screen in the tablet in his hands. No, no, those coordinates were wrong, blasted and confoundedly wrong. Damnit all to hell! Why couldn’t these things go right for once?

He manipulated the buttons. The Yon Soth pathways in these portals had thousands of twists and turns. It was a true maze. A Yon Soth, clearly, could think faster and more deeply than humans or any sort of Ardazirho. In truth, Yon Soth thinking was several factors greater than a human could achieve. A genius human would be less than an imbecilic Yon Soth, a slobbering idiot, moron or retarded Old One.

Ludendorff scoffed as he plummeted. No, no, one mustn’t use the word retard. That would offend delicate sensibilities. What was it with people that they had these taboo concepts or ideas, screeching like harpies if someone used a forbidden word? Did they live such narrow rabbit lives, wear such blinkers on their brains, that they had to march in lockstep with others or face community wrath?

Ludendorff forced his attention back to the issue at hand and laughed with sudden glee. The coordinates on the tiny screen, if he could scoot over just a smidgen—

In the darkness, while falling, Ludendorff hurled this body to the left, straining to reach the fork in the pathway. He might have made it, too, but a charge of static electricity blew him back onto the other path. It also knocked the tablet out of his numbed hands.

“No!” he howled.

An opening appeared below him. Ludendorff braced himself, and he thudded hard upon a floor. The tablet clattered beside him.

Groaning, twisting around, Ludendorff strove to open his eyes, to concentrate and figure out where he’d landed. He’d almost—people around him laughed in a slow, dimwitted way, doing it with heavy voices.

That gave Ludendorff the extra incentive he needed. While on his back, he pried open his lids and rubbed bleary, watery eyes.

It took a few more seconds. Then, the heavy chucklers came into focus. They were huge, three giants in military uniforms. They had heavy sloping shoulders and seemingly tiny heads. The heads were actually normal-sized, but on their seven and eight-foot frames, they looked smaller than they should.

“Don’t tell me you’re Merovingians,” Ludendorff said.

“Yes!” the biggest shouted, while slapping his massive chest. “We are Merovingians. We are the strong right arms of the Queen.”

“Do you mean Lisa Meyers?” Ludendorff said.

“I mean what I say!” the huge brute thundered, all humor vanished from his brutish features. “Can you hear me, old man? Are you deaf?”

“May I sit up?” Ludendorff asked.

The big brute looked at the other two. One of them shrugged. The other spoke. “Aren’t we supposed to kick him to death?”

“On no account,” Ludendorff said.

“What?” asked the new speaker.

“The Queen told you to take me to her,” Ludendorff said.

“How do you know what the Queen told us?”

Ludendorff didn’t miss a beat. Brainpower defeated strength any day, and he was proving it. “I spoke to the Queen before,” he lied. “She told me to drop on by.”

The biggest of the three clutched his head and shouted at the top of his lungs. Then he kicked Ludendorff in the lower back. “Don’t do that!” the monster man bellowed.

Ludendorff groaned, twisting in agony. The eight-foot Merovingian had kicked him in the kidneys. By the pain exploding back there, he might have ruptured them.

“Why you kick him?” the smaller but slightly smarter Merovingian asked.

“Stupid play on words,” the huge brute growled. “I always hate that…before.”

“Before when?” asked the other.

“Before we become strong!” the eight-foot giant shouted.

“Oh, the drugs,” the other said. “Yes. I remember. Should we all kick him now?”

“No!” shouted the biggest. “Pick him up. We take him to Queen. If she says so, we punch his lights out. We take turns breaking bones. If she wants the puny old man alive, we bring him in and she will be glad with us.”

“Yes,” the other two said. “That is smart thinking.”

“Saints preserve me,” Ludendorff muttered.

The brutes reached down and grabbed his garments, hauling him to his feet.

“Can you walk?” the biggest shouted, spraying spit at him.

“Yes,” Ludendorff said weakly.

“Then start, old fool. Get a move on.” The giant shoved him from behind, propelling the professor down a corridor.

Ludendorff staggered. He needed his blaster so he could burn down these three idiots. No. You need your wits. If these morons are telling the truth, I’m in Meyers’s custody. Ludendorff swallowed uneasily. This could be bad indeed.

-37-

The three didn’t take Ludendorff directly to Lisa Meyers.

An intelligent Merovingian intercepted the three, listened to their tale and took charge of Ludendorff, first praising the three for their diligence at watching a possible portal exit. The three might not have completely understood that. But they had understood enough to let the other have him.

The new Merovingian was huge like the others, wore an intelligent expression and listened as Ludendorff complained about his kidneys.

“Ah,” the Merovingian said. “We’ll go to the infirmary.” The Merovingian had chevrons on the arms of his uniform and had a square face and black mustache. He also wore a military cap with a short bill. He was Senior Cadet Rad Kelsey, and it sounded as if he belonged to an elite force of Merovingians, not just the run-of-the-mill brutes.

After receiving a checkup and shot directly into his bruised kidney at the infirmary, Ludendorff moved at a brisk pace as he followed the Senior Cadet.

The corridors here were bigger than on a spaceship, with doorways into truly huge gymnasiums and other entrances into possible garages full of humming and processing machinery. There was another giveaway. Ludendorff didn’t feel any vibrating deckplates under his feet.

“Say, Senior Cadet Rad,” Ludendorff said. “Could we take a breather? I’m bushed.”

The giant stopped and turned, regarding Ludendorff, nodding a moment later.

“Thanks,” Ludendorff said, bending over, putting his hands on his knees and panting.

“None of that,” Rad said, grabbing a puny shoulder and forcing Ludendorff to straighten. “Stand tall. It will bring quicker recovery.”

Ludendorff forced a scowl from his face, nodding. After fifteen seconds of rest, he asked, “Where are we?”

Rad stared at him.

“What space station, I mean?”

“None,” Rad said.

“Surely, we’re in space. Is this a battleship perhaps?”

“We’re on a crustal.”

“I don’t understand what that means,” Ludendorff said.

“I suspect that is how the Queen wants it,” Rad said.

“Oh. Do you have specific instructions regarding me?”

“Harry Patel,” Rad said. “No. I don’t recall the Queen saying to be on the watch for him.”

Ludendorff had given a fake name to the doctor in the infirmary. He’d done it as a matter of course. He wasn’t an Intelligence operative like Maddox, but he did have security training and instincts due to his many centuries on the run.

“Still, you fell out of a portal,” Rad said. “That’s critical. You don’t happen to be Captain Maddox by any chance?”

“Who?” asked Ludendorff, stung that the Merovingian should know the captain’s name but not his.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rad said. “Are you rested yet?”

“Almost,” Ludendorff said. He inhaled deeply to show he still needed some time. “We’re on a crustal, eh? That sounds interesting.”

“Forget I said anything.”

“What world is this?”

Rad shook his head.

“We’re not on a world?” asked Ludendorff.

“That’s it.” Rad grabbed the professor and propelled him down the wide corridor.

Ludendorff felt something of the Merovingian’s prodigious strength. He didn’t try to stop his forward momentum but followed the other as Rad brushed past him while speed walking. The Senior Cadet reminded him of Captain Maddox. The Merovingian was taller and heavier than Maddox by quite a bit, and probably stronger, too. Hadn’t Maddox learned how Meyers made the Merovingians from normal men? Most of them lost brainpower due to the transformation. Meyers had then found a way to change some of them into smart monster-men.

It would seem Meyers was back to doing that again here. What had Iris told the Methuselah Woman about him and his research? Had Venna the Spacer spy spoken to Meyers since escaping from the Library Planet? Had Clarice and Iris joined him because of Venna?

Ludendorff sighed. The Iron Lady had encouraged him in his research on the fourth planet. She hadn’t been happy about Maddox going missing, though. Ludendorff had gone missing soon thereafter as he searched for Maddox. The Iron Lady certainly wouldn’t have taken his loss as hard.

Damn Maddox, anyway. Everyone loved or knew him and didn’t know the incomparably more important Methuselah Man, namely, himself. Nothing was fair in the universe. No, it was a mass of gross injustices.

Still, it was too bad he couldn’t compare notes with the boy. Hadn’t Maddox met Ardazirhos last mission near the Library Planet? Those wolf-like aliens hadn’t possessed such stunning technology as those at Central-Control. If he remembered correctly, the ones on their last mission had been called Gatherers. They’d worked for galactic-core aliens or masters of some sort.

Ludendorff frowned as they waltzed through a heavily guarded entrance. The corridors grew narrower afterward, and he heard feminine laughter from behind certain closed doors. There were armored Merovingians stationed along the corridors. They held hollow-tubed lances like those from Tortuga.

“Senior Cadet,” Ludendorff called.

The giant stopped and turned to glare at him.

“I must smell like sweat,” Ludendorff said. “Do you think I could take a shower before meeting Lisa—before meeting the Queen?”

Rad continued to stare at him.

“She is the Queen,” Ludendorff said, spreading his leathery hands. “I’d like to make a good first impression.”

“How do you know that her name is Lisa Meyers?”

Ludendorff cleared his throat. “Well, I do know how to negotiate the portals. That makes me an expert at many things.”

“No,” Rad said. “No shower. Keep following me.”

“Is the Queen in a good mood perchance?”

Rad didn’t answer but started marching again.

With a shrug and a mutter, Ludendorff trotted to catch up. He’d come to believe there were time shifts while using some portal pathways. How long had Iris and Meyers been back here? It shouldn’t have been that long compared to him. But maybe he’d hit a time snag in one of the pathways.

Meyers…

Ludendorff brushed his garments as he trotted to keep up with Rad. It was time to be on his best behavior. Just what was the witch going to do with him? What had Iris told her about him?

Rad began to slow down.

Ludendorff did the same. He saw a group of normal-sized guards ahead. They stood before a grand entrance. The guards wore impressive white uniforms with gold braid. They held cone rifles and wore dark visor-glasses. Each turned to stare at him.

“Harry Patel,” Rad said, jerking a thumb at Ludendorff

It took Ludendorff a second to realize the giant meant him.

Rad half turned and pointed directly at him. “He’s Harry Patel.”

The guards turned their visor-glasses at Senior Cadet Rad and then Ludendorff.

Abruptly and disconcertingly, feminine laughter sounded. It came from the shoulders of the guards.

Ludendorff concentrated. Oh. The laughter came from a small speaker unit on each left shoulder. Perhaps the visors allowed Meyers to see what the guards saw.

“Yes,” the woman said from each shoulder speaker. “Send in Harry Patel. And Senior Cadet.”

Rad stiffened to attention.

“You will join Harry Patel. If he makes the slightest suspicious move, you will snap his neck for me.”

“Yes, O Queen,” Rad said.

The double doors opened on their own accord, and the guards parted to make room.

Reluctantly, Ludendorff headed for the entrance, with the Senior Cadet looming behind him as the giant dogged his heels.

-38-

Ludendorff faced the Queen upon her golden throne, which rested on a silver dais. Sheer silks hung beside and behind her.

It was a largish room with various computer consoles to the sides. Ludendorff had the sense that hidden lasers tracked him, able to beam at a single gesture from the Queen.

Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers sat on the throne. She was tall and elegant with her long dark hair done up stylishly. She wore an Elizabethan-style gown from the time of the Spanish Armada on Earth. She was so slender as to almost appear gaunt. She had a frozen beauty of someone in their mid-twenties, although her eyes belied that. Her eyes were piercing, startling and showed depth of intelligence and will to power, and an icy sensuality. There was a ruby hanging from a necklace, the gem resting at the beginning of her ample cleavage.

Ludendorff knew about the ruby. Fortunately, it did not glow. So, he was safe for the moment. If it began to glow, he knew it would tickle the sexual areas of his brain, turning him imbecilic with rutting desire for her.

Venna the Spacer spy had used a similar ruby against the Emperor of the Throne World and Golden Ural, the Emperor’s cousin.

“So, how long have you been back?” asked Ludendorff.

“A cuff to the head, if you please,” Meyers said, looking behind Ludendorff.

From behind, Rad struck Ludendorff a heavy open-handed blow.

It made Ludendorff stagger and scowl thunderously as he rubbed his stinging ear. He hated such manhandling, particularly blows that might jar his brain and knock down his IQ even by a fraction of a point.

“I am the Queen,” Meyers said imperiously. “And Queens speak first. Prisoners should have the wit to not speak unless spoken to.”

Ludendorff almost retorted but nodded mulishly instead.

Perhaps now that she’d made her point, Meyers asked in an ironic tone, “Harry Patel?”

Ludendorff dropped his ear-rubbing hand. Anger wouldn’t help here. He needed his wits, his cunning. Thus, he considered the question, and answered with a shrug.

“It doesn’t matter,” Meyers said. “You’re here. That’s the important thing.”

He wondered if this was a sort of Mother-May-I test. If he spoke without her first asking a question, would the Senior Cadet strike him again?

Meyers watched him keenly. “Did you know Maddox managed to make it out here?”

“Out here?” Ludendorff asked.

“The Crowder System,” she said.

“No. I didn’t know.”

Meyers didn’t elaborate about the star system, which was a pity, as he would have liked to learn more about where he’d arrived.

“During the time Maddox was here,” Meyers said, “he slew poor Vint Diem—although I suspect Vint became careless. That is always a mistake in Maddox’s presence.”

“If you say so.”

Meyers raised an imperious hand.

Ludendorff scowled, hunching his head, waiting for another blow but not looking back to see if it was coming.

“You don’t like the cuffs, do you?” Meyers asked, as she lowered her hand.

“Not particularly.”

“Do you see it as an affront to your dignity?”

“No. To my greatness.”

Meyers nodded, waiting; perhaps to see if he would elaborate, maybe talk too much.

Ludendorff bit his tongue to keep from saying more, which was a kind of torture for him. Someday, she’ll be in my power. I’ll strip her naked and test her quality then. Who knows, she might even be a good lay.

“Are you having lecherous thoughts?”

“That depends,” Ludendorff said, surprised she should ask. Could she read his thoughts?

“Depends on what?” Meyers said.

“If admitting it earns me another blow. If so, then no, not in the slightest.”

Meyers touched the ruby with her right-hand fingers. “Tell me about Iris.”

Ludendorff almost said, “Iris who?” But what would that gain him? “She’s a Spacer adept,” he said.

“Not just an adept, but high in their ranks.”

“Interesting. I hadn’t known that part.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

“Well…it seemed obvious she was a skilled adept, given her expertise on Yon Soth matters. But I never learned how highly ranked she was because neither Iris nor Clarice admitted to being adepts or even Spacers.”

If there was any remaining humor, it vanished from Meyers’s icy features as her eyes took on an even more piercing quality. “Did you know that there are only three of us left?”

Three? There was Iris and Clarice—oh! “Do you mean three Methuselah People?”

“Strand, you and I,” Meyers said. “Why do you think we’re the only ones to have survived the sad departure of our Masters?”

“I know why Strand and I did, but I’m not sure about you.”

“Tell me why you two did.”

“Three reasons,” Ludendorff said, holding up a finger. “Our brilliance,” he held up a second finger, “our resourcefulness, and—” He held up a third finger. “Not to make too fine of point of it, our native cunning.”

“I’ll grant that you two are slippery devils.” Meyers paused. “Tell me. Do you miss the old days?”

Ludendorff raised an eyebrow.

“When our Masters ruled the Orion Arm and beyond?”

“Uh…to a degree.”

“What part do you miss the most about them?”

Ludendorff thought fast. Unlike Strand and him, Meyers clearly loved the Builders, if he remembered correctly, was insane on the subject. “That’s easy,” he said. “I miss their mastery, watching them in action.”

Meyers stared at him as if searching for deceit. “Your answer surprises me, as you and Strand strike me as rogues, not true servants. You two sought your own glory and have obviously forgotten that you owe everything to the Glorious Ones.”

Her use of the old term startled Ludendorff. He hadn’t heard it for ages, had almost forgotten it. But he smiled wistfully, fondly for her sake. “I haven’t heard them called that for a long time.”

“I’m going to change that,” Meyers said.

Yes. She’s insane regarding the Builders. Look at her eyes. She’s a fanatic on the issue.

“My Glorious One is presently in stasis,” Meyers said. “Unfortunately, it isn’t normal stasis, but of a unique nature, one I’m still attempting to decipher.”

“I take it your ship is here?”

“If you’re referring to the Glorious Kent, yes, it’s here—in the star system—but no longer under my control.”

“Oh?”

The words seemed to pour out of her mouth on their own accord. “I was forced to make a bitter trade, a most difficult choice. It happened after Maddox thwarted me, releasing the Hormagaunt. I was on the run, with Star Watch and others closing in. It was a terrible choice, and I often wonder if I regret it. Not yet, I tell myself…not yet because I can still redeem it.”

Ludendorff nodded sagely, although he had no idea what choice she was talking about.

Meyers laughed without mirth. “You don’t care about that. I can see it in your eyes. If I revive the Glorious One or not is of no concern to you.”

He made a fast and judicious decision, deciding to take a risk as he turned his hands palms upward. “They were the Glorious Ones indeed, working marvels and justice throughout the spiral arm. But one should never forget that they left us. We did not leave them.”

“Yes!” Meyers said, leaning forward as her eyes shined. “The damned humans in their milling, seething hordes sucked the life essence, draining all others in the Orion Arm. The maggot hordes sucked out the life of the Glorious Ones, forcing them to leave for their own survival. Believe me, I’m still working on methods for—” Her gaze shifted abruptly to Rad Kelsey, and some of the madness departed her eyes. “Leave us,” she said.

The Senior Cadet bowed at the waist, turned without a word and marched out, the hatch closing behind him.

“Wise,” Ludendorff said.

“Eh?”

“You had him leave because you don’t want him to know you’re planning genocide for humans of all stripe, including your Merovingians.”

Meyers sneered. “Have a care, old man. I can do much worse than cuff you on the back of the head. I can transform you into a Merovingian, a giant, brutish and quite lumpish Ludendorff. How would you like that, hmm?”

The threat caught Ludendorff off guard. Me? A giant moron? His knees lost power. He staggered back and thumped down onto his butt, sitting in horror.

“I’m seriously considering it,” Meyers said. “Because for all your brilliance, you’re a buffoon. I’ve studied your past, how you comport yourself. You dally with women like a satyr and prate about your genius as if you’re a joke. In a word, you’re undignified.”

He raised his head, forcing good cheer into his voice. “My life has had its moments, though. You have to admit that.”

“My threat isn’t an idle one, Professor. You must tread lightly with me.”

Speaking about dignity—Ludendorff climbed back onto his feet. “You’ve made your point. You don’t like my style. I get it.”

“You’re a Methuselah Man, a representative of the Builders. You need to act like a Methuselah Man.”

It was time to change the subject. The idea of him as a Merovingian was making him queasy. What would shift her focus? Ah, he knew. “I take it you’re requesting my help in reviving your Builder?”

“The Glorious One, not a Builder. We’re their servants. Or have you forgotten?”

“I have not.”

Meyers slid off the throne to stand on the dais. “This is the Crowder System. Have you ever heard of it?”

“When you named it a little bit ago.”

“Not before?”

“I’m afraid not.”

She nodded. “That’s not surprising, as it’s two hundred thousand light-years from Earth.”

Ludendorff began blinking. “What?” he asked a moment later.

Meyers sat back on the throne. “It’s an outrageous distance, which means this is a former Yon Soth experiment. Thus, it’s no surprise that some of the portal pathways lead here. For your information, I discovered all this from the Hormagaunt.”

Ludendorff remembered that horrible mission and the dreadful alien. “You actually spoke to the Hormagaunt?”

“Second hand,” Meyers said. “He was too dangerous to meet in person.”

“Maddox did.”

“Maddox,” she said, as if swearing. She paused, shook her head and regarded him anew. “There’s a barrier around the star system, an impenetrable barrier for all but Jotun vessels. I have reason to believe several such vessels are low in Lucifer’s atmosphere. I need to reach there and bargain with the Jotuns.”

“Jotuns are really alive down there?”

“That’s an astute question. The Jovian gas giant is highly radioactive, and the Jotuns—I believe there is a time warp inside the planet. Thus, I don’t believe the Jotuns or their vessels have been in the deep atmosphere for long.”

Ludendorff shook his head. “I’m not following your reasoning, or I don’t know enough to guess what you’re getting at.”

Meyers turned her head and drummed her fingers on the left armrest. “This is much too complicated, as there are too many players and crosscurrents, many having nothing to do with the other.”

“Come again,” said Ludendorff.

Meyers regarded him. “The Ardazirhos of Central-Control are a random factor. I don’t know what the wolves want except that they’re after us in particular.”

“You mean the Methuselah People?”

“I do. The Ardazirhos controlling the portals have a Yon-Soth-like mindset, and in some manner, they’re playing for the highest stakes.”

“What’s that mean?”

“In essence, that they’re not germane to my great goal, as they’re after other things.”

“And your great goal is restoring your Glorious One,” Ludendorff said.

“Our Glorious One.”

“Of course,” Ludendorff said smoothly. “It was a slip of the tongue saying otherwise.”

“Or a Freudian Slip.”

“No. I assure you that isn’t true. My love for our Masters isn’t as overt as yours, but it’s there nonetheless.”

“I want to believe, as that is how you should think. It would be repugnant if you were lying about this and make me remorselessly angry.”

“I feel the same way,” Ludendorff said with heat.

Meyers regarded him intently.

Ludendorff smiled with sincerity, finally asking, “So, ah, is Iris aiding us in reviving…our Glorious One?”

“Iris and Clarice are also not germane to the great goal,” Meyers said. “They represent the Spacers, dangerous ones because they have knowledge gained by Venna.”

“You know about the latest Spacer spy, eh?”

“Only from Iris and the few tidbits I picked up from my Intelligence Service. Unfortunately, I had to redeploy my best operative here, inserting him into the trolling vessels.”

“The trolling vessels?” Ludendorff asked.

“Vint Diem ran my Intelligence Service,” Meyers said. “I mean the one in Human Space. I had to redeploy Vint here, and Maddox slew him here as I said. As to the trolling vessels, they’re attempting to do exactly what you did in the mantle of the fourth planet of Omicron 9.”

“I see,” Ludendorff said. “And you learned about that from Iris?”

“If you mean your collecting of Yon Soth tech parts in the mantle, yes.”

“Uh-huh. It seems to me you must be working with the Spacers. They love the Builders just as much—they desire the Glorious Ones to guide us just as you and I do.”

“The Spacers understand nothing about the life essence. That is the critical factor in all this.”

“That isn’t an answer, though. Are they directly helping you?”

Meyers gave him an enigmatic smile.

Ludendorff threw his hands into the air. “I don’t understand what you want of me. You ply me with hints and innuendoes, threaten me and then talk about the Glorious One.”

“Are you saying I’ve confused the brilliant Professor Ludendorff?”

“You certainly haven’t explained all the parameters to your project.”

“True enough.” Meyers tapped her chin. “You should know that the Moon Moloch is another complication, one of grave importance.”

Ludendorff frowned. “Moloch is a moon of the radioactive gas giant Lucifer?”

“It is. But Moloch is independent from the trolling vessels due to powerful defensive weapons systems. That means the trolling vessels automatically destroy anyone leaving the moon. This all came about because, long ago, certain colonists fled Crowder III and took up habitation here. They were senior scientists with advanced training and built stations upon the floating crustals.”

“Crustals? Oh. That must have been what Rad meant.”

“Rad told you about the crustals? That’s a breach of protocol. I’ll have to punish him for that.” Meyers shook her head as if shaking the thought away. “The point is, crustals float upon the moon’s vast sea of molten lava. The lava supplies the stations with heat energy and contains enough metals so scoops provide the raw materials for construction purposes.”

“Fine,” Ludendorff said. “I’m sure that’s all very interesting. But I still don’t understand what you’re driving at.”

“Yes, in the beginning…” Meyers said. “In the sixteenth century, Old Earth dating, a Yon Soth took a boatload of English men and women and transported them here.”

“To the Crowder System with its mysterious barrier?”

“Exactly,” Meyers said. “The Yon Soth upgraded the Englishmen’s technological sophistication and let them run free afterward. There have been atomic wars on the Earthlike Crowder III and much misery and devastation. Now, a dictator has taken over. He’s ruled for…sixty years already.”

“How old is he?”

“I believe he clones himself,” Meyers said. “He’s actually quite young. Thirty years ago, his chief scientists discovered that Yon Soth tech parts drift in the debris cloud of the Lucifer planetary area. No one knows how the parts got there. The dreadnoughts sent from Crowder III launch special patrol boats into the debris cloud, painfully gathering the ancient and tiny items.”

“And?” asked Ludendorff, intrigued by the story but wishing she’d get to the point.

“The dreadnoughts take the gathered pieces to Crowder III, where the dictator’s chief scientists attempt to fashion Yon Soth tech items.”

“Have they had any luck?” asked Ludendorff.

“The scientists lack a genius of your caliber, so I’m afraid not.”

“I’m not surprised. After all, there is only one Professor Ludendorff. Do you wish me to look at the pieces?”

“We’re on the moon.”

“Moloch, right?”

“Yes,” Meyers said. “We can use the portals to attempt to reach Crowder III. I don’t know if that’s actually possible, however, if any of the portal paths lead there.”

“Why not lift off from the moon and go to Crowder III the old-fashioned way?”

“I thought that was clear,” Meyers said. “The people on Moloch do not possess ships capable of defeating the dreadnoughts waiting beyond the debris cloud.”

“All right, already,” Ludendorff said, finally and truly exasperated. “I’m finished guessing. Why not tell me what you want me to do? This is getting tedious.”

“We have two choices,” Meyers said, unfazed by his display. “We can enter the portals and go elsewhere, perhaps back to the Orion Spiral Arm.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ludendorff said.

“Or you can help me finish a Builder transporter.”

“Like the one you used in the Tortuga System?”

“That type won’t work here,” Meyers said. “I need a better one to break through the force screens employed by the dreadnoughts.”

“And then?”

“My Merovingians will storm several dreadnoughts, capturing them. Afterward, we can proceed to Lucifer and see if we can contact the Jotuns down there.”

“And then?”

Meyers shook her head. “It’s time for you to look at the transporter. I have need of a technical genius. Thus, your appearance is a godsend. Help me restore the Glorious One to full sentience, and I’ll allow you to leave before I begin the genocide of the human race.”

Ludendorff stared at her. It was too bad she was insane. Kill off all humanity?—I don’t think so. But he nodded, grinning as he did. “I’ll do it, as I doubt I’ll get a better deal anywhere.”

-39-

As Ludendorff worked on the half-built transporter, fifteen million kilometers away on Victory, several days passed. During the time, the starship continued to drift in the dust-debris-asteroid cloud held in place by Lucifer’s immense gravitational pull.

As Victory drifted, more of the surviving crew revived from the horrendous ordeal of using the event horizon to jump from QV Telescopii into the Crowder System.

Galyan was busy cataloging patrol-boat activity, discovering that none of the smaller vessels maneuvered into the farther cloud. The AI thus plotted a slow drift even farther out here in the hope of gaining more time until the captain healed from his surgeries.

That proved to be a good gamble: for after several long days in a coma-like sleep, Maddox awoke. He had a splitting headache and felt too weak to climb out of bed. He thus lay there, staring up at the ceiling in the dim light.

Soon, a middle-aged nurse looked in on him, no doubt noticing his open eyes. “Is there anything I can get you, sir?”

Maddox didn’t look at her, but he whispered, “Water.” It was all he’d been thinking about.

The nurse left and soon returned with a warm glass of water. She held the glass and the back of his head as he sipped. It was undignified, but Maddox accepted the help. He was so thirsty.

After he lay back, the captain recalled his last memory. He’d been on the bridge, under the mental control of the spider machine. He lay still, directing his thoughts inward, trying to feel whether the machine still controlled his mind.

“Are you feeling ill, sir?” the nurse asked. She hadn’t left as he’d thought, but still held the empty glass.

Maddox glanced at her before looking away. “Is Riker or Galyan available?”

“I’ll check,” she said.

Maddox turned his head and watched the nurse step near a white lab-coated doctor monitoring a board. The doctor glanced at Maddox, rechecked his monitor and adjusted it. He studied a screen before speaking quietly to the nurse.

She returned to Maddox. “You’ve had a severe strain, sir. The doctor suggests you rest a few more days before expending your energies.”

“Who runs the starship, him or me?”

The nurse took a step back. “I realize you’re in charge, sir. But this is for your own protection. We’ve—”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“All right. You run Victory.”

“Then I’m giving the orders?” Maddox asked.

The nurse blushed, glancing at the doctor.

The lean man in his white lab-coat stepped away from the monitor and to Maddox on the medical cot. “Are you ordering me to send for Riker?”

“Either him or Galyan,” Maddox said, as he watched the doctor closely.

“And you want us to leave the room when the other comes?” the doctor asked.

“I do,” Maddox said.

The doctor stepped away and spoke quietly into the air. Galyan appeared beside him, and the two spoke softly.

Finally, Galyan drifted near the captain. The nurse hurriedly moved away. “Are you able to sit up, sir?” Galyan asked.

“I will when I feel like it.” Maddox was exhausted, and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. But he was desperate to know if the spider machine ran the starship or if he did.

“You need more recuperative time before you start moving about again, sir.”

“Maybe,” Maddox said. “But tell me this: who runs Victory?”

“You do, sir. Why do you ask?”

“You don’t know why?” Maddox said, hedging.

“Oh,” Galyan said. “Yes. I see. Are you referring perhaps to the Builder spider machine?”

“You know about it?” Maddox asked, surprised.

“I do, as it bargained with me before it left the ship.”

“You’re sure the spider machine is gone?”

“He is seeking Jotuns, sir.”

Maddox blinked several times. “Wait a minute. Victory is in the Crowder System?”

“Yes. You didn’t know that?”

Maddox closed his eyes.

“Of course,” Galyan said. “You have been unconscious until now. How could you know?”

Maddox worked to control his despair.  Would he ever get back to Earth? Would he ever see Meta and Jewel again? No. That wasn’t the question. Yes. Yes, it was. If he could never go home again—Maddox squeezed his eyes even tighter shut. He realized he breathed faster and felt even weaker than before. This was no good. He forced himself to relax. He opened his eyes to regard Galyan, who watched him.

“You had brain and heart surgery, sir. That is why you’ve been in a medically induced coma.”

“Why the surgery?” asked Maddox.

“To remove Spacer modifications, one from your brain and one from your heart,” Galyan said.

“They’re gone then.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s something, at least. And the spider machine left Victory in your control?”

“After it modified me,” Galyan said.

“But you broke the modification?”

“With Sergeant Riker’s help.”

“Where exactly are we in the Crowder System?”

Galyan explained what he knew.

Maddox absorbed the information, trying to think, to plan—he yawned, yawned again and felt the exhaustion claiming him.

Galyan said something incomprehensible.

Maddox weakly raised a hand. “Bring the medical team back, as I can’t keep my eyes open. Continue to do what you’re doing. You did well, Galyan. I’m proud of you for keeping us hidden like this.”

The little holoimage stood straighter. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

“Keep us hidden. Do you know that I’ve been on one of the dreadnoughts before?”

“Sir?”

“The Autocrat,” Maddox whispered. “I spent several weeks on it.”

“Are you feeling delirious, sir?”

“I’m not hallucinating. I’ll explain more later. We’re in a dangerous position, but there are possibilities, too. Keep a sharp lookout for Potential Enki. Do not let him back on the ship. Destroy him if you must.”

“I understand.”

Maddox wanted to say more, but his eyes closed of their own accord and he fell back asleep.

-40-

Maddox sank into a deeper slumber, going down, down, down. He remained that way for some time. Then, his conscious mind floated upward into a semi-aware state. He could hear whispers around him, and that might have fully awakened him. He refused, however, as he sensed something new working in him. He breathed evenly and slowly as a man asleep, and he was asleep in a fashion. But there was something more as a REM state occurred.

He’d reached the dream state and yet retained some of his conscious control. There was a process at work in him. Perhaps it was a sixth sense, a latent ability attempting to stretch its newfound ability.

That seemed off, however, and he rejected the idea. Perhaps this had something to do with the new intuitive sense gained from Balron, or maybe it was more of the Erill spiritual energy manifesting itself in this new way. That seemed more probable.

Whatever this sense was, it ranged outward from his body, passing decks and then the starship’s outer hull plating. The non-physical sense left Victory, continuing outward. There was dust, debris and asteroids out here. Yes. He spied hidden asteroids in this…space cloud.

Hadn’t he done something like this once before? He’d gone out to meet the Hormagaunt. No. That didn’t seem completely right. He himself had gone out that time, not this non-physical sense straining to understand.

Ah. He spied a patrol boat with a cryston hull, and then another. They were familiar. Oh, yes, yes. He’d piloted for Red Team while stationed aboard the Autocrat. That seemed quite some time ago now.

The non-physical sense ranged beyond the patrol boats, and it might have veered to see if it could find the Autocrat. Instead, the ranging sense continued in a straight line. Look over there to the left. Wasn’t that the molten-lava moon, Moloch? Maddox remembered diving there and the midair opening appearing in his patrol boat. Should he have his new sense go down and see what Moloch, or the crustals on the surface, held? Could his new sense go down? Might it be a good idea to try?

Maddox, or the sense ranging from his REM-sleeping body, tried to veer down at the moon. Maddox found that he could not make the sense do so. And for reasons that he did not understand that frightened him.

Maddox hated being frightened. Mostly, he rejected the emotion when it raised its ugly head. But this was different. The sense, the ranging—

On an intuitive level, Maddox realized there were deadly perils with practicing this new ability. He didn’t know what they were, and that was part of the problem. Still, perils abounded all around him. He was probing with a part of him that could take soul wounds if he wasn’t careful.

I should draw back. The thought brought another—go back to where?

The fear in him grew, and his progress slowed. Was a key part of him really outside his body? Was this more than just a sense but actually his spirit? Could spirits leave bodies, though, without the bodies being dead?

As he wondered about it, the forward momentum ceased. Like an elastic band, a power or force began to draw his sense or spirit back. That felt safer, wiser—

You must come to us!

Maddox’s ranging sense or spirit—no! It isn’t my spirit. Intuitively, he recognized that. This was definitely a sense, although it contained something vital about him. In any case, he or the sense heard the alien thought, and a pull caused the rearward motion to cease. The call or pull drew the sense on the forward journey once more.

Maddox didn’t understand all this, and he almost attempted to awaken. The pull, however, changed subtly, and he became curious. What called to him? What drew the sense from his body? He let the thing pull him, and the elastic of the back-draw eased enough to allow his sense to speed forward.

Soon, his ranging sense passed through thinning dust and debris. He “saw” a vast gas giant ahead. It had bands of colors like Jupiter in the Solar System. It emitted radiation, but the x-rays and gamma rays could not touch or therefore harm the ranging sense.

Maddox’s sense sped like a missile for the Jovian planet. The place had fantastic gravitational pull, the second greatest after the Crowder System star. The mass of the gas giant was greater than two and half times all the other planets, comets, asteroids, moons and debris in the star system. It dominated in terms of mass and had perhaps as much as one-thousandth of the mass as the G-class star.

The seething movement inside the gas giant caused the radiation to spew outward. The planet was primarily composed of hydrogen, but one-quarter of its mass and one-tenth its volume was helium. It had a rocky core of heavier elements, but it did not have a well-defined surface. The rapid rotation had caused the planet to become an oblate spheroid.

The Jovian world was huge. If his probing sense sank into it, he might spend hours, days or maybe even weeks trying to find what pulled him. Weirdly, the closer he came to the planet, the fainter the pull became.

Maddox’s sense hesitated a second, no more, before plunging into the highest atmosphere. The sense rapidly sank until it reached the tropopause with its ammonia crystal clouds, what gave color to the planet, to Lucifer.

The winds howled around the ranging sense but could not touch it because it was non-physical.

Maddox wondered then about the point of all this. He could never take Victory down here, or it would be very foolish of him to try. Could the spider machine have made it this far? Wasn’t Potential Enki searching for Jotuns in their impossible spaceships? How far could Enki go down into Lucifer anyway?

It was then that Maddox sensed a mighty ship cruising at much deeper depths in the planet’s lower atmosphere. The weakened pull came from there.

Interesting. Compared to Victory, the ship was vast and powerful. Yes, Victory would be like a shuttle to it. The giant alien vessel did not have a metal hull, but a hydro-lithium one. What exactly would that look like?

Maddox wanted to know and debated continuing the sense’s descent. It struck him then, however. His sense had discovered something remarkable. At least one Jotun ship was in the lower atmosphere. Perhaps as important, a thing—an alien, right?—used an instrument or possessed a power to draw a ranging sense or a sixth sense here.

Could the Jotuns be like Builders or more like Yon Soths? More like Yon Soths, Maddox decided. A Builder would practically be normal compared to an alien that could thrive aboard a ship with a hydro-lithium hull with a dense Jovian atmosphere within.

Captain Maddox!

His ranging sense picked that up. It was loud in Maddox’s REM state. Part of him wished to investigate the summoner. Another part heard Meta’s voice, a lonely distant thing, calling for him to come home.

Meta’s dear voice set up such a pang in his heart—could his sense range across two hundred thousand light-years to reach his calling wife?

At that moment, Maddox felt lost in the depths of farthest space. It was a horrible feeling. He wanted to go home. He wanted to hug his wife and kiss his baby girl. He maybe even wanted to hang up his uniform and stay with his family. He—

Captain Maddox, come down to us!

The ranging sense smiled, and nodded, ready to comply with the summoning.

The faintest cry from Meta caused the sense to hesitate just a little longer. It was a plaintive cry, full of sorrow and hurt. Meta missed him dearly and wondered what had happened to him. Tears fell from her eyes. Jewel was growing up fast. Would his baby girl ever see him again?

The pang of loneliness in Maddox’s heart hardened into resolve. Nothing was keeping him from Jewel, no ancient alien, no vast distance, nothing!

In the REM state, Maddox acted decisively. He caused the ranging sense to draw back from the alien summoning.

No, you must come down to us, Captain Maddox. We must speak with you. It is vitally important.

In his mind’s eye, Maddox saw Jewel begin to cry and wave her tiny fists. He saw her tiny eyes open, staring into his heart.

Maddox’s resistance against the summoning stiffened.

You must come to us. We must program you to do our will.

Now, anger exploded in the captain’s heart. Earlier, he’d fallen under the spider machine’s will. Potential Enki had used him most foully to hurt the crew. That would never happen again.

You cannot go back, Captain Maddox. It is our desire that you see us this instant.

In the REM state, Maddox snarled an obscene reply as his fierce will came into play. It felt as if he placed his feet on the sides of a narrow crevice, one that sank all the way to Lucifer. Maddox envisioned gripping a steel cable, and it was taut with the ranging sense on the other end. Hand-over-hand, in the REM state, Maddox began to draw the sense back to his body.

The sense picked up a second hydro-lithium hulled vessel. A summoning or a pull radiated from the new ship, seeking to link with his—

No! I refuse!

Maddox expended his will, and in his dream state, he drew the cable one pull after another toward him. Maddox gritted his teeth. His hair stood up on end. He panted, and he continued drawing the ranging sense back to him.

You will miss the prize if you leave.

Then I will miss it.

With that, the pull from the alien vessels against the “cable” ceased. It felt like a—the ranging sense fled from the Jovian gas giant. It reentered the dust-debris-asteroid cloud, racing past Moloch. It sped for Victory, unerringly heading for the starship.

As the sense continued for Victory, Maddox realized what he’d felt. It had been like a fish casting line onto land. The alien fish, the Jotuns possibly, had hooked Maddox’s ranging sense and had almost drawn it down to the alien vessel, to the water as it were. What would have happened then?

What normally happened to a fish hooked by a man? It suffocated on land and became a meal for the fisherman.

Would Maddox have become a meal for a Jotun? The possibility seemed all too real.

The intuitive sense rushed past the starship’s hull plating. It rushed past the various decks and arrowed to the captain’s sleeping body.

In his sleep, Maddox grunted. The ranging sense had returned to him. His eyelids no longer quivered at the same rate as he departed REM sleep.

In this lighter sleep, Maddox vowed that he would not do that again anytime soon. He had almost lost something vital to the Jotuns.

On the med cot with the medical people observing him, Maddox began to wake up. It took him longer than seemed right. He inhaled, tried to open his eyes, and felt an oppressive force resisting him.

In his light sleep, he opened his mouth, groaning unintelligible words.

Maddox was not aware that Galyan appeared, listened to the strange words and gave precise instructions to the medical team.

They rushed to Maddox, giving him injections and hooking him to a voltmeter. Power surged. Maddox’s body arched upward—the captain’s eyes flashed open, and he groaned: awake at last.

“Captain Maddox,” Galyan said.

“Galyan,” the captain whispered. “Listen to me. You must do exactly as I say.”

“I am listening, sir.”

Maddox told Galyan what he should do.

-41-

Several more days passed as Captain Maddox recouped from the ordeals of an event-horizon jump across the Milky Way Galaxy, his brain and heart surgeries and the ranging intuitive sense drawn to the Jotun vessels. He was much like a New Man in that he healed more quickly than normal, and the quick-heal used by the surgeons speeded the processes. Still, he needed time for tissues to reknit and his strength to return. He needed time to regain his mental balance and recover from his puppet-like existence at the hands of Potential Enki.

During that time, Galyan ranged outward as a holoimage, using ghost-mode to enter various patrol boats and study the crew’s activity without himself being observed.

During that time, Commander Noonan returned to the bridge as acting captain. Galyan filled her in on the situation—what he knew about it, at least—and she took the news of their far destination with uncommon composure.

“I do not understand this, Valerie,” Galyan said. “You do not seem upset.”

Valerie sat in the captain’s chair, her eyes upon the holoimage. “Do you want me to be upset?”

“That is not the point,” Galyan said. “My personality profile on you shows that you should be in near-hysterics.”

“Because I’m a woman?” Valerie asked sharply.

“I have given that factor some weight, yes,” Galyan said. “As your gender is part of the entire matrix of Valerie Noonan. Are you not a woman?”

“Of course I am.”

“Then why do you seem upset that it is part of your personality matrix?”

“Did I say that?”

“Your facial tightening and hardened squinting when I told you your gender affected your personality profile suggests your emotional reaction. Perhaps you do not realize that I am a skilled student of body language or the art of kinesics.”

“All right,” Valerie said. “You don’t have to make a big deal about it. You think I’m normally hysterical?”

“Not at all, Valerie. On many occasions of deep tension, you have evidenced uncommon reserve. However, this is a highly unusual situation. Given my observations of you, and the present circumstances, I had predicted greater emotional stress. I do not understand the failure of my analysis.”

“Maybe I’m just numb to it all.”

“No. I would have detected that through my keen kinesics observation. You are not numb.”

“Are you trying to be like Ludendorff?”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered for several seconds. “Oh. Was I bragging? I am sorry, Valerie. I did not mean to brag. I… Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you so calm?”

Valerie nodded. “I have no idea how to get back home, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No,” Galyan said.

“Well, we’ve been in dreadful spots before, and the captain, or you, or Ludendorff always comes up with a solution. I’m becoming fatalistic, at least when it comes to vast distances traveled and getting home again.”

“I do not think we have ever gone even a fraction as far as this.”

“It’s bad, I admit. But getting hysterical won’t help.” Valerie shrugged. “Didn’t you say the captain had been out here before?”

“He claimed so. I do not understand how that could be possible, however. He must have been delirious.”

“Do you really think that?”

Galyan paused. “On further consideration, I do not. That makes me even more curious to know how he reached here. Do you have any ideas?”

“Not me,” Valerie said. “Whatever else happens, though, I suspect that the spider machine is critical to all this. We may have to work with him again in order to get home.”

“That is logical and also dangerous thinking. It would be better if we could return home without him.”

“Sure,” Valerie said, as she stared at the main screen. “You’ve said the patrol-boat crews speak accented English. What’s the probability that they’re not somehow originally from Earth?”

“Essentially nonexistent,” Galyan said.

“Right,” Valerie said. “That the crews speak English—and that they’re human—implies they crossed the distance as well. Do you think they came here the same way we did?”

“It seems likely,” Galyan said. “I have never heard of another method to cross such a vast distance. Still, it is possible there were other ways.”

“We need to find another black hole.”

“It would take more than that,” Galyan said.

Valerie rubbed her jaw. “You should also scan the moon, the main one anyway.”

“Victory would have to move much closer to Moloch for me to do so. That would put us into possible patrol-boat traffic. I do not think the risks warrant the attempt.”

“No…” Valerie said before snapping her fingers. “Do you remember when we first saw the Liss cybers?”

“How could I forget? It was a traumatic moment for me. Oh, I see your point. We should rig a shuttle with a holographic enhancer.”

“No. This time we should use a probe.”

“Wise,” Galyan said. “I could use the enhancer to send my holoimage farther, perhaps to the surface of Moloch as you wish, and Victory would not need to move closer.”

“Could we link two or more probes like that, each one enhancing your holoimage?”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered as he analyzed the possibility. He ceased that as he said, “Yes. It is quite possible.”

“How long would it take?”

“Several hours to half a day, given that Andros can modify two probes and Keith helps launch them.”

“Right,” Valerie said, as she nodded. “Let’s get started then. By the time the captain is himself again, we can give him detailed information about the moon, and that could improve our chances of getting home.”

“That is good thinking, Valerie. I am sure you are right about all this.”

Valerie stared at him.

“What did I say wrong?” Galyan asked.

“You’re jinxing this by saying what you did.”

“Jinx?” asked Galyan. He froze except for his eyelids as they fluttered. Soon, he regarded her. “Jinx: curse, whammy, bugaboo. I am not putting a spell on us.”

“I know,” Valerie said. “It’s an old superstition. That’s all. Forget I said that.”

“We are in a dangerous situation,” Galyan said. “You do not want me to add to our troubles. Yes, calling it a jinx is an emotional response. I will not give you my carefully weighted opinion on your idea but get to work pronto.”

Valerie smiled. “Don’t ever change, Galyan.”

“Is that a statement of endearment?”

“Yes!” she said.

“Thank you, Valerie. I like you, too.” With that, Galyan disappeared as he began hunting for Andros Crank.

-42-

It took longer than half a day, as there was only one enhancer in storage. Andros and others worked tirelessly to cobble together another. Once finished, Keith went out in a tin can or fold fighter. He folded once, twice and launched an enhancer probe at the third fold. It left Keith weary from lag, but he soon continued until he launched the other probe much closer to Moloch.

He waited an hour and took a long, calculated jump to just outside Victory. Soon, he maneuvered the tin can back into a hangar bay.

The dense dust and debris of the cloud had mandated the shorter folds, as the ship personnel didn’t want to use active sensors for long-range scans. The passive sensors did not allow them to view as far or as well, but it helped keep Victory hidden from the Crowder patrol boats.

“The dust particles and radiation will interfere with the holo-enhancing to a degree,” Andros said from the science station. “But I believe we can sufficiently compensate in order to pull this off.”

“Understood,” Valerie said from the captain’s chair. “Are the enhancers active yet?”

Andros studied his board, finally looking up. “We’re ready to begin.”

“Galyan,” Valerie said.

“I will go,” Galyan said.

“Wait!”

“What is wrong, Valerie?”

“I have some final instructions for you.”

“Oh. Of course,” Galyan said.

“Remember, this is a strange star system. Perhaps just as bad, a Potential Builder is loose in it and there are Jotuns in the gas giant.”

“Possible Jotuns,” Galyan said. “As we do not know if the captain was correct in his…sensing.”

“Please don’t interrupt, as I like it even less than the captain.”

“Oh. I will add that to your personality profile.”

Valerie blinked several times, frowned for a moment and then shook her head as if ridding it of Galyan’s comment. “Andros detected a shield or barrier around the star system, one profoundly powerful given that he hasn’t detected its power source yet.”

“I did not know about any of this,” Galyan said.

“Andros discovered it by accident,” Valerie said. “But it’s definitely there. It implies advanced alien technology that frankly we can’t even begin to understand. And it brings me to my point. If you discover anything strange or baffling during the mission, flee immediately. And consider that those on Moloch may possess anti-holographic technology and might even anticipate you.”

“I recall the first Liss cyber we encountered,” Galyan said. “I will beware of those I observe, and I will seek relevant data to the situation.”

Valerie nodded. “Good luck, Galyan.”

“Yes,” Andros said. “Luck, my friend.”

“Is not the correct idiom: happy hunting?” Galyan asked.

“Sure,” Valerie said, “happy hunting. Find out what’s on that moon.”

“Thank you all,” Galyan said. And with that, he vanished from the bridge.

***

The holo-imager in the heavily protected AI Chamber projected Driving Force Galyan to the first probe enhancer, which boosted the image, sending it to the second probe. That one likewise boosted his image, giving Galyan the range to reach the large moon.

He appeared in space, hovering fifty kilometers above the surface, looking around. As he did, he went into ghost mode, making himself fainter, less visible. He would not become invisible, however, as his optic sensors would be unable to bounce any reflected light, making him blind. Because of ghost mode, the world around him became fainter due to less reflected light. He thus raised his sensing gain to balance that.

Far below, he saw the molten surface. He also saw individual crustals floating upon the lava. The largest was forty kilometers in diameter, holding several towns of buildings. There were also missile and laser silos and detector stations. He witnessed some of the spectral bands the detectors used for scanning.

Calculating fast, Galyan disappeared once more. The holo-generator in the AI Chamber surged with power. The first probe boosted the image. The second accepted the link and boosted as well, projecting holo-imaging power to the surface of Moloch.

Galyan appeared several meters above the crustal, lowering himself, sinking into the substance so only his head appeared as he moved across the platform. Even in ghost mode, it was possible others might see him, especially if they knew what to look for.

The crustal was hot with radiating heat waves that made everything blurry. How could humans live here? It seemed inconceivable to Galyan.

To his left, a large tractor with caterpillar treads clanked from one thick-walled building to another.

Galyan sped to the nearest building. It was three stories high and huge in a sprawling sense, bigger than Victory. He oozed into the wall several centimeters and could go no farther.

He studied the wall substance: asbestos, lithium and other unknown particles. Those particles must be what kept his holoimage from going through.

Galyan drifted out of the wall and sank back so only his head appeared above the crustal surface. He looked around and could no longer find the enclosed tractor. He floated upward—there, the tractor was an eighth of a kilometer distant.

Galyan disappeared and reappeared in the tractor-engine compartment. It was a small fusion reactor of unique design. He floated out, moving through a thick lead wall. That was interesting. Why did they not use the same substance as the building walls? He was sure there was a reason.

Galyan floated through the tractor in ghost mode, discovering that most of it was thick metal shielding and small compartments. What could be its purpose?

Finally, Galyan oozed through a bulkhead and stopped, with only his ghostly holographic head showing. He saw the driver, a huge individual. There was something familiar about the suited man. The man did not wear a helmet, but it rested nearby.

A second huge man sat beside the first. That one studied a panel that beeped from time to time.

What was familiar about the two? Galyan ran a program, the actual program running in the heart of Victory as the AI computers computed.

Galyan viewed one of the enhanced individuals more closely. Yes, he was a mutated human. The cranium and shoulders, the thickness of the neck—“Merovingians,” Galyan said to himself. “These two are Merovingians.”

Did that imply Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers was here? The possibly was—

“Hey,” said the Merovingian viewing a panel. “There’s something in here with us.”

The driver glanced at the other.

“It’s…it’s a holoimage,” the sensor operator said.

Galyan debated swiftly. Should he drift at the two and use his special process, blasting them with a jolt of electricity? No. It was more important that he escape with his data.

The sensor operator stabbed a switch.

Galyan did not wait to see what would happen. He aborted the mission, deactivating his holoimage and cutting power to the first probe enhancer.

Unfortunately, a surge of power from the tractor followed the original link. The surge reached the second enhancer and caused key circuits to burn out.

A surge from the second probe flowed to the first, but the connection cut before the surge reached the holo-imaging-link circuits.

Galyan was safe, but the second probe had become useless.

Was Lisa Meyers on the crustal, and if so, did she now know that he, Galyan, had been spying about the premises? He’d gained data for the captain, but he might have just given warning to one of their worst enemies.

-43-

As Galyan pondered the possibilities, Professor Ludendorff worked in a large auditorium with a high ceiling. The reason for the size was that the Builder transporter was huge, a little over two stories with banks of energetics, amplifiers and detectors. The transporter dissolved a person into his constituent molecules and beamed those to a targeted location, reordering them into the exact pattern of the person.

It was the breaking down of molecules and the refashioning of them that gave the Builder transporter its power. It was much shorter-ranged than Meyers’s previous transporters. But the machine was supposed to be able to pass the molecules through much tougher structures, including thick layers of rock and ores and, presumably, the force screens protecting the dreadnoughts on station around the dust-debris-asteroid cloud.

Ludendorff employed three other scientist-technicians who belonged to Meyers’s retinue. They were brilliant, with genius-level IQs. But that made them simpleminded in Ludendorff’s terms, for he was much greater than a mere genius, as he’d begun with a top intellect, and then had it enhanced centuries ago by the Builders, and then absorbing many further insights gained from his endless adventures.

Ludendorff had been studying the technical problems for days and had finally derived an insight late the previous night while taking a shower. He often had his best ideas as hot water pelted his skin.

Now, he and his trio bustled over the transporter, fitting pieces to the greater whole. Naturally, it would have been better if he had an entire blueprint. He had a partial, but it had proven critical to his understanding the rest.

Three hours later, they took a break as Ludendorff hurried down a hall, conferred with the fabricator-in-chief, giving him a list of new requirements. On Ludendorff’s way back to the transporter, Senior Cadet Rad Kelsey intercepted him.

“Professor,” the Merovingian said.

Ludendorff stopped short. “What are you doing here? No. Don’t tell me. I’ve offended the Queen in some esoteric manner. Isn’t that right?”

“Perhaps,” Rad said. “She told me to bring you posthaste to the war room. If you will follow me, please?”

“How does she expect me to finish the transporter if she keeps interrupting me?”

Rad shook his head. “Do I have to drag you there? Are you coming?”

Ludendorff eyed the uniformed giant. “Are you always so serious?”

“We’re wasting time, Professor. She said posthaste. That means now.”

They marched down corridors, Ludendorff trotting to keep up. After completing a long series of stairs, Ludendorff panted and sweated.

“Slow down,” he gasped.

Rad looked back and frowned. He stepped near, grabbed one of the professor’s arms and hustled him through a series of corridors. Finally, they reached a checkpoint with guards in white uniforms, golden braid and cone rifles. The commander took one look at them and waved them through.

With Ludendorff in tow, Rad passed the guards, approached a sensor and waved a hand over it. The nearby hatch opened. Rad straightened and marched Ludendorff into the war room.

It was a spacious chamber with large screens on each of the walls, with several dozen operatives seated at various consoles. The screens showed areas of Moloch orbital space. Each of the seated operators was normal-sized and wore a gray uniform. Interestingly, no women worked the consoles, just men.

Rad escorted Ludendorff to the bottom of a raised area situated in the center of the chamber. There, on the raised area, three uniformed men sat at a table with Lisa Meyers. She wore a white uniform with gold braid, the chest area sprouting with a mass of medals and with a dainty blaster strapped to her side.

A quick glance around the war room showed Ludendorff that Rad was the only Merovingian here. He noticed because several guards tracked Rad closely, with their hands on the butts of their holstered blasters, as if they wanted to draw and fire.

“Up here, Professor,” Meyers called. “Thank you, Senior Cadet. You can wait outside.”

Rad clicked his heels and saluted smartly. He then turned and marched out, seemingly unaware of the guards watching him.

Ludendorff climbed the steep steps as if walking up to the quarterdeck of an old sailing ship. At the large table were embedded consoles and screens, and each of the three military chiefs held a tablet. These three were hard-eyed and serious.

“Professor,” Meyers said, located at the head of the table, indicating that he sit beside her.

Ludendorff did so, even as he realized the three chiefs watched him as closely as the guards had watched Rad.

Meyers tapped controls and turned one of the table-screens to him. “What do you make of that, Professor?”

Ludendorff studied the screen. It showed the outer crustal: barren, evil and quite hot terrain. Once again, he wondered who’d fabricated the floating platforms, as they seemed manufactured, not native in the least. Interestingly, Meyers hadn’t been able to answer him earlier about the crustals, as she didn’t seem to know their origin either.

On the screen in the background was the side of a building: a stark monument that had stood for many years against the rigors of the molten-lava surface and minimalist atmosphere. A tank-tracked vehicle moved into view: a heavy tractor that often towed a wagon filled with cooled ores taken from the crustal side-scoops.

“What am I supposed to see again?”

“I’m surprised it isn’t obvious to you,” Meyers said. “Look again. You’ll spot it.”

Ludendorff leaned toward the screen as the scene began from the beginning. He didn’t—Wait a minute. There was motion, almost undetectable at the crustal surface.

“You see it,” Meyers said, tapping controls. “Now, I’ll zoom in for a closer look.”

Ludendorff blinked in surprise as the zoom-in brought Galyan’s holoimage head into focus. It glided just above the surface, the body hidden from view. But if that was Galyan—

“Tell me exactly what you see,” Meyers said.

On the instant, Ludendorff decided to hedge. “I’m not sure…”

“I’ll show you a different shot.” Once more, Meyers manipulated controls.

Now, Ludendorff saw inside a cabin, perhaps of the tractor. Because he knew what to look for, he saw the ghostly holoimage head sticking out of a bulkhead.

A sequence of events played out, with a Merovingian operator pressing a button. As the big man did so, the holoimage head disappeared.

“Strange happenings,” Ludendorff said, as he straightened in his chair.

“You don’t recognize the holoimage?” Meyers asked sharply.

“Now that you ask… Yes. It looks like the Adok AI that haunts Victory.”

“You mean Galyan.”

“They named him?”

“Please,” Meyers said, rolling her eyes. “You’re only digging yourself in deeper. I know you know him. Pretending you don’t only makes me distrust you more.”

“You always were suspicious of me.”

“Is that or is that not Galyan?”

Ludendorff shrugged. “I don’t see how it could be.”

“That isn’t the question,” Meyers said.

“If I were to guess… Yes. That was Galyan.”

Meyers slapped the table.

One of the military chiefs jerked.

They’re terrified of her, Ludendorff realized, as an insight blossomed. Does she turn them into Merovingians if they make her mad? Yes, of course she does. No wonder she doesn’t trust the Merovingians much and no wonder the guards watch them so closely.

“Professor,” Meyers said, “tell me if I’m wrong. If Galyan was inside a tractor on our crustal, it clearly means Starship Victory is in our star system, obviously snooping around our moon.”

“Victory here, two hundred thousand light-years from Human Space?” Ludendorff snorted. “How could the starship have voyaged here at all and then so quickly?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

Ludendorff stared at Meyers. He didn’t have a clue as to how. Then a possibility stirred. “Are you suggesting a Yon Soth brought Victory here?”

“What?” Meyers said.

“It seems obvious, as I’d think that only an Old One would possess the necessary technology.”

“No!” Meyers said, slapping the table again. “A Builder must have brought the starship.”

“Please,” Ludendorff said. “The Builders didn’t possess such galaxy-spanning drives.”

Meyers stared at him before looking away. Then, she shook her head as if having an inner dialogue with herself. “If a Yon Soth is behind all this,” she said softly, “then we’re all in grave danger.”

“Why do you suspect a Builder did it?”

Meyers glanced at him sharply.

Ah, Ludendorff realized. She has knowledge I lack. Has she seen a Builder in the system?

“Why would a Builder or a Yon Soth bring Victory here at this time?” Meyers asked.

“I can think of a possibility that does not require either a Builder or a Yon Soth,” Ludendorff said.

“Well?” Meyers demanded. “What possibility?”

“I’m here. You’re here. We know Maddox used the portals before.”

“He did? Why haven’t you already told me that?”

“Why, I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t know. Maddox has used the portals?”

Ludendorff nodded. “He disappeared into one in my office on the fourth planet of Omicron Nine.”

Meyers’s startling eyes seemed to glitter with malice. “Sometimes, Professor, I feel as if I should hook you to a mind scanner and drain your memories. What marvels would I discover, hmm?”

“More than a dozen brilliant scientists could possibly handle,” Ludendorff said.

Meyers scowled. “What did I say regarding your dignity? You mustn’t boast and brag so incessantly. No one finds it amusing.”

“That’s your loss,” Ludendorff muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll remember from here on out. Maintain a severe dignity in order to heighten the memory of the Builders. I understand.”

Meyers stared up at the ceiling and soon shook her head, regarding him afterward. “This is distressing for a number of reasons. I have begun to wonder about the timing of your arrival here. You’ve worked with Captain Maddox on many missions in the past. Perhaps you’re working with him now?”

“That’s preposterous,” Ludendorff said with a snort. “Do you know how difficult it is to navigate the pathways?”

“Of course, I know. But you’re a genius at these things. You can likely maneuver through the pathways better than I or anyone else I know.”

“While it’s reasonable to think so, it isn’t the case here,” Ludendorff said. “I stumbled into captivity by landing here. Luckily, you need my expertise. Later, the holoimage appears—”

“Enough,” Meyers said, interrupting him. “Maddox is a devious and dangerous man. I’ve underestimated him before to my harm. I will not do so again.”

“Overestimating Maddox could prove just as harmful to you,” Ludendorff said.

“No, Professor, you’re not going to distract me. You’re in obvious league with Maddox. Yes. Maddox is in the Crowder System with Victory. Whether the Builder I detected earlier is in league with the captain, I do not know.”

“What Builder?” Ludendorff leaned toward her. “Why have you withheld critical information from me?”

Meyers stiffened. “I’m in control. You do not question me. You do as I demand. Perhaps I should retrieve my ruby and use it on you to show you exactly what I mean.”

“Now see here. That would prove a bad idea all around.”

Meyers raised a haughty eyebrow.

“You must realize that I’m a sexual tyro,” Ludendorff said, “the best in Human Space. If you think to use your ruby on me, I will end up entrapping you. You will never have indulged yourself like you would with me and it could possibly drive you crazy or to serious distraction.”

“Cease your prattle!” Meyers said with heat.

Ludendorff shrugged. “You’ve treated me well so far. I’m simply giving you fair warning. I’m not the Emperor or Golden Ural. I’m the greatest lover humanity has ever thrown up.”

“Admiral Gresham, your lash,” Meyers said sharply to one of the chiefs.

The uniformed chief jumped to her, proffering a small metal handle with several buttons along an edge.

Meyers stood, taking the so-called lash and aiming it at Ludendorff. “You persist in your tomfoolery, and after I’ve warned you several times about it. Do you need a direct reminder?”

“Methuselah Woman, we must keep our head in this. What you saw in the tractor—” Ludendorff pointed at the screen. “It is impossible. That means we should consider other possibilities.”

Meyers’s thumb hovered over one of the buttons, and her eyes glittered with malevolence. “What possibilities?” she said in a harsh voice.

“You said so yourself a moment ago,” Ludendorff said. “You suggested a Builder or a Yon Soth is here in the system. Surely, either would have the capability to project a holoimage head of Galyan.”

“No,” Meyers said. “You’re not going to distract me or cause me to believe that Victory and Maddox are not in the Crowder System. We must find the starship. Do you have any idea how far the holoimage could project?”

“Hmm…” Ludendorff said, as he tapped his chin.

The thumb descended onto a button, depressing it. A purple line of force zigzagged from the handle. It struck Ludendorff in the chest.

He cried out in agony, writhing on the chair and falling out sideway. As he did, he struck the side of his head against the table and then sank to the floor with a groan.

Meyers clicked the handle again. It no longer ejected the purple energy line.

Ludendorff lay panting, blinking, a welt beginning to rise on his left temple.

“You brought that on yourself,” Meyers said. “So do not blame me for it.”

“Yes,” Ludendorff whispered, as rage blossomed in his heart. The bitch had caused him to strike his head painfully. She was going to rue doing that. He vowed so silently.

“I can lash you again,” Meyers said.

“I said I understand.”

“Your eyes belie your statement.”

Gingerly, Ludendorff touched the rising welt. “I’m angry. You can surely understand that.”

“I want your fear, not your anger. Believe me when I say that I can make you fear me.”

“Yes, yes, I believe you. I need no more demonstrations. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I dearly hope so.” Meyers weighed the lash in her hand, and then pitched it to Admiral Gresham.

He fumbled it but managed to hang on and insert it into a side-holster.

“Return to the transporter,” Meyers said. “I need it operational more than ever.”

Ludendorff climbed wearily to his feet, the side of his head throbbing with pain. Everyone envied him his brainpower, not just the ingrate Maddox. Maddox had never treated him so abusively as this, though.

“I want the transporter operational in two days,” Meyers said.

“It may take longer.”

“For your sake, Professor, it had better not.”

Ludendorff nodded slowly. “Very well, I’ll do my best.”

“Go then,” Meyers said.

Ludendorff started for the steps. As he did, he heard Meyers growl orders at the three military chiefs. She wanted Victory’s position pinpointed, and she wanted it now!

Ludendorff didn’t hear her threaten them with a brutish existence if they failed—as Merovingians—but her tone implied it.

Maddox and Victory in the Crowder System, Ludendorff thought. That’s interesting. Perhaps I’m not stuck here as a prisoner of Meyers for much longer. Yes. I must fix the transporter, but not for the reasons the bitch thinks.

Ludendorff might have been wise to glance back a last time at Meyers, for she watched him closely with a secret and knowing smile. Did she believe herself a master psychological manipulator? At that moment, it seemed more than possible.

-44-

Captain Maddox left the ICU ward of medical, returning to his quarters. The walk tired him out, so he climbed into bed and sank into sleep.

He woke nine hours later and felt…wrong. Had he dreamed again? He tried to remember. No. The wrongness wasn’t from a dream. Had he reinjured himself? He felt his body, but that wasn’t it. Then it came to him. He slept alone. Meta was gone. She was at home with Jewel.

I no longer like sleeping alone. But only Meta would do, no one else.

He sat on the edge of the bed, wistful, maybe even mournful. He looked back over his shoulder, wanting to see Meta sleeping there, one of her marvelous legs exposed, maybe showing him the glimpse of a breast.

He sighed, shook his head and forced himself to stand. He had a mission, a goal: that of getting home again. Whatever stood in his way of reaching Earth, reaching Meta—he would destroy, utterly and totally.

The thought brought him relief, as it let him know that he was going back. And he wasn’t going to go alone, through the portal pathways. He was bringing the starship home, if God granted him the grace to do so.

Maddox inhaled through his nostrils, the determination building in him. Potential Enki was out here. Two Jotun vessels cruised through the depths of Lucifer, surely each with a Jotun crew. The Autocrat and other dreadnoughts patrolled beyond the dust-debris cloud. A barrier would keep all but the Jotun vessels from leaving the star system. The only way in had been through a Yon Soth event-horizon black-hole-transporting drive.

“Sir?”

Maddox did not start, as he’d seen the little holoimage stick his head through the hatch.

“Come in, Galyan.”

“Thank you, sir. I did not mean to intrude—”

“No apologies are necessary. I’ve been out for some time. Did I tell you about the Jotuns in Lucifer?”

“You said you had a dream about them.”

“It wasn’t a dream but reality.”

“Sir, there has been a situation since our arrival in the system.”

Maddox nodded. “Tell me about it.”

Galyan told him about the Moloch-scouting expedition, how he’d seen Merovingians driving an enclosed tractor across a crustal. “Lisa Meyers might be here, sir.”

“Meyers, huh?” said Maddox. “Yes. I can see how you reached that conclusion.”

“You do not seem surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Can I ask why?” Galyan said.

Maddox would normally have begun pacing because of the news. He still didn’t have his regular energy, though. He sat on the edge of the bed, regarding Galyan.

“All right,” Maddox said. “Here’s what’s been happening to me.” He gave a quick rundown of what had happened to him ever since he jumped through the midair portal in the professor’s underground office on the fourth planet of Omicron 9. He’d yet to tell Galyan and the others about it.

“Portals?” asked Galyan.

“Keep listening,” Maddox said. Finally, after some time, he finished.

“I must say, sir, that that is a remarkable tale. The Yon Soth created the barrier and brought humans here. I wonder why he or they did so.”

“For Yon Soth reasons,” Maddox said.

“I understand that. I would still like to know the precise reason.”

“And I’d like to know how and what Potential Enki is doing? Did he reach the Jotuns?”

“Perhaps the Jotuns would not have attempted to draw you or your spirit to them if Potential Enki hadn’t already spoken with them.”

“It’s a mess,” Maddox agreed. “Now, with Lisa Meyers here…that matches what Vint Diem said before he died.”

“There is one thing I haven’t told you, sir. Her people might have seen me.”

Maddox frowned. “Well…what’s done is done.”

“You are not angry with me for what happened?”

“How can I be? You were doing your job. We need a plan, though. We need a method of breaking through the barrier and crossing two hundred thousand light-years so we can reach Earth in a reasonable time.”

“Does not the extreme distance mandate a black hole?”

“If we can use the Yon Soth method of using a black hole, yes,” Maddox said.

“The final stipulation for our success will make it much harder to achieve, won’t it?”

“More than harder, it’s an illogical hope.” Maddox scowled at the floor. “It doesn’t matter. How can we get home in a reasonable amount of time without the need for a black hole?”

“There are the portals, of course.”

“As a holoimage, you could never use the portals.”

“That is true,” Galyan said. “But that does not mean I wish for my friends to remain out here in limbo to keep me company. I am your friend. I want what is best for you.”

Maddox shook his head and smiled. “I appreciate that, Galyan. But you can bet that I’m bringing the starship home with me. There’s no way the entire crew will negotiate the portals back to Earth. If we hope to all go home, we must do so in Victory.”

“Logic suggests there must be an answer. Consider. Humans are in the Crowder System. That implies the Yon Soth brought everyone here from Earth. What the Yon Soth did one way we can do the other.”

“Except that we’re not Yon Soths privy to fantastic technologies,” Maddox said.

“Are you suggesting the goal is impossible?”

“Not impossible,” Maddox said. “But it does mean we’re going to need Potential Enki or the frozen Builder in the Glorious Kent. I’m beginning to believe the Jotuns have the Glorious Kent. Why else would Enki have come here? That means we have to storm a Jotun vessel in order to retrieve the frozen Builder.”

“Do you know how to achieve such a miracle as plunging into a gas giant’s depths, particularly with the awful pressures?”

“Not yet,” Maddox admitted. “Meyers might know, though. That would mean capturing her and wringing the information from her.”

“From your account,” Galyan said, “no one has stormed Moloch since the Crowder III senior scientists colonized it. How would we do so?”

Maddox nodded. “You make a good point, Galyan. Perhaps we need to strike a deal with the dictator of Crowder III. With the dreadnoughts, patrol boats and Victory working in concert, we might be able to capture Meyers on Moloch, given she’s really there.”

“Would it be worth the effort, sir?”

Maddox shrugged. “It would be good to know before we made the attempt.”

“Are you suggesting I make another scouting mission onto the moon?”

“I don’t see any other way. Do you?”

“Not yet,” Galyan said. “But I suggest we wait.”

“For what?”

“No. Waiting will not help us, will it?”

“We don’t know,” Maddox said. “That’s the problem. We know too little.”

“That is not precisely true. The problem is that we have no way of solving our dilemma on our own. We need high-caliber aid that possibly does not exist in the system.”

Maddox scowled anew. He didn’t like to hear that. Would he have to break his self-given word and attempted to force a portal? Yet, that hadn’t turned out well for him last time. The portals could literally go anywhere. No. He had the starship. He had the best crew in the galaxy. But he was up against the wall this time, trapped two hundred thousand light-years from home in a star system with an impenetrable barrier around it.

“You might have to attempt your ranging sense again,” Galyan said. “The Jotuns could possess a Builder as you suggested. You could also possibly find Potential Enki while using the ranging sense.”

Maddox shook his head. He didn’t want to use that sense again.

“You must decide what you dislike the most,” Galyan said, “being trapped here or the dangers that come by using your ranging sense.”

Maddox stared up at the ceiling, disliking Galyan’s point. Meta and Jewel were on Earth. An existence without them awaited him here. He stared at Galyan. “Too bad Ludendorff isn’t here.”

“We have successfully completed missions before without Ludendorff. I suggest you use your ranging sense or we attempt to contact one of the dreadnoughts.”

“Those of Crowder are a suspicious and piratical bunch,” Maddox said.

“What else can we do?” Galyan asked.

Maddox glanced back at the empty bed. If he remained in the Crowder System, he would sleep alone for the rest of his life. Jewel would grow up without him—

Maddox spun around to glare at Galyan. “Tell Riker, Valerie, Andros and Keith that we’re going to hold a brainstorming session. Before that, though, I need to do something.”

“May I ask what?”

“Lift,” Maddox said.

***

Twenty minutes later, Maddox was in the ship gym. He hadn’t lifted for some time, and he needed it. Lifting helped his brain function. Yes, he’d been through several taxing ordeals, but it was time to dead lift.

He started with air squats, letting his butt almost touch the floor. It felt good to stretch, to feel his thighs and buttock muscles get ready for a hard lift.

He worked through several sets of air squats, doing a mere ten each time. Finally, he got the bar, took a wide stance and narrow grip, sumo style. He did another set with the bar.

Finally, he put a forty-five-pound plate on each end and did another set. That was to let his muscles know he was about to get series.

Finally, he put two forty-five-pound plates on each side and did another set of five reps. Afterward he added another two plates, making it four forty-fives on each side. This was starting to get serious for him.

He chalked up his palms, took the stance and squatted, gripping the bar sumo style. Then he rose slowly, with good form, feeling the weight strain his muscles, bones and ligaments.

He did five reps.

When he dropped the bar, he stood there panting, really feeling it. His body might not have been ready for this amount yet. He stepped over the bar, walking around, and then it hit him. It was obvious, actually. He should have seen this right away.

It was a risk, but much less than his other ideas.

Maddox grinned, heading for the hatch, leaving the bar and weights where they’d dropped. Now, he knew what to do next.

-45-

Maddox held the brainstorming session in the conference chamber. He sat at the head of the table. Around it sat Valerie, Andros, Keith, with Galyan at the other end of the table and Sergeant Riker on his own side.

The captain explained the situation as he knew it. “Now, before we worry about the distance to Earth, we need to take charge of the problem. That means gaining control of what we can. That means allying with the Crowder dictator and conquering the molten moon. Before we attempt that, however, I want to try a different idea.”

“Wait a minute, sir,” Valerie said. “Aren’t we jumping ahead of ourselves?”

“In what way?” asked Maddox.

“First, why ally with the dictator?” Valerie asked.

“We need the dreadnoughts in order to successfully besiege Moloch,” Maddox said. “The only way to gain the dreadnoughts is to persuade the dictator to work with us.”

“Isn’t he on Crowder III?”

“To my knowledge,” Maddox said.

“Wouldn’t we have to go to Crowder III and possibly meet him on the surface?” Valerie asked. “That’s going to take time and trust on our part. Galyan was telling us before you arrived for the meeting that you’ve been on a dreadnought, were there for several weeks in fact before you left via a portal. You found the Crowder personnel paranoid, possibly delusional and with the ethos of pirates.”

“I paraphrased you, sir,” Galyan said.

“Never mind that,” Maddox said. “Yes,” he told Valerie. “The dreadnought crews are all that and more.”

“Well, given ‘all that and more,’” Valerie said, “I’d think the dictator would attempt to storm Victory, grabbing the ship for himself instead of trusting us enough to work with us.”

“He’ll try,” Maddox said. “We’ll simply have to be on our guard.”

“Against a planet full of adversaries?” asked Valerie. “Why wouldn’t he have the dreadnoughts surround us and demand our surrender or death?”

“It might prove difficult and taxing convincing him,” Maddox said. “Do you have any alternative suggestions, something else we could try?”

“Before I think about that,” Valerie said. “Let me take this a step farther. Suppose we gain the dictator’s help, capture Moloch, the crustal platforms, anyway, and even find Lisa Meyers. How does that help us get home?”

“We have to start somewhere,” Maddox said. “The start here will be a unified human front against the Jotuns.”

“What if the Jotun vessels stay deep in Lucifer? Can we go down into such pressures and dig them out? Can Lisa Meyers really have a way to go down there and fight them?”

“I agree it’s doubtful we or even she can do it,” Maddox said. “So…if Meyers doesn’t have a way or plan to defeat them down there, we’ll have to lure the Jotun vessels into orbital space where we can face them directly.”

“Now there’s a trick,” Riker said from his side of the table. “How would we do that, this luring you’re talking about, if they know as much about the situation as we do? Why won’t they stay where they’re safe?”

Maddox turned to the sergeant. “We’ll solve one problem at a time.”

“Maybe you’re missing Valerie’s point,” Riker said. “Even if we persuade the dictator, gain the dreadnoughts and the moon, we’re still up Shit Creek if the Jotuns act even halfway reasonably. In other words, all this meeting and fighting won’t do a damn thing to solve our problem of getting home.”

“Do you have a point?” said Maddox.

“I just made it.”

Maddox stiffened before he spoke in a quiet and even tone. “This is a brainstorming session, Sergeant. We’re searching for answers, not providing a platform for nitpicky naysayers.”

“I do have a second and what I’d call a primary point.”

“Go ahead,” Maddox said, “I’m listening.”

Riker leaned back in his chair, eyeing the others before regarding the captain. “I’ve been with you a long time, sir.”

“I’m well aware of that, Sergeant. Please get to the point.”

“I am, sir. Your plans usually cut directly to the dilemma. They don’t circle or avoid it altogether. This plan does the opposite: much motion, talking and probable fighting with a hope that it will solve the issue. Because of that, I’m thinking this is a smokescreen, a ruse for the real plan. That plan obviously mandates you reaching the moon: the real reason for ‘conquering’ Moloch. That would indicate you plan to use the portals to get home. If so, it strikes me as possible that you might abandon us out here.”

“Are you finished?” Maddox asked.

“No. Given this is a brainstorming session, I’m assuming you’re not going stand on rank and blow off my idea. Instead, you’re going to explain it to us and help us understand what you’re really trying to do.”

Maddox eyed Riker, and he found himself getting angry with the old codger. The man had come dangerously close to insubordination. Then it struck Maddox, the sergeant’s true agenda.

“You don’t think I’m me, do you?” Maddox said.

“Well, sir, now that you mention it, no I don’t.”

“Galyan,” Maddox said, finally noticing that Riker kept his hands under the table. Did the sergeant aim a stunner at him? “Am I the real Captain Maddox?”

“To the best of my knowledge, yes, sir,” Galyan said. “I can understand Sergeant Riker’s worry, however, as he is correct in one particular. What you have described to us is not a normal Maddox plan. It flails about without zeroing in on the prime dilemma.”

A grin smile slid onto Maddox’s face. “Very well, you both have a point. In my estimation, the Jotuns and Potential Enki are critical to our getting home. Possibly Potential Enki is the only real chance we have—other than the portals as the sergeant has pointed out. As a final possibility is Meyers’s frozen Builder, if the Glorious Kent is indeed in one of the Jotun vessels. Given that Vint Diem talked about Operation Glorious Kent, I tend to think the ship is down there. How to get to it…on that point, I have no idea other than luring the Jotuns into orbital space or beyond.”

“Then why give us the smokescreen plan?” Galyan asked.

“It isn’t a smokescreen plan,” Maddox said. “It may be critical to our success that all the human-crewed vessels work in concert. That might not be possible, however, given the nature of the Crowder natives.”

“What’s the real plan?” Riker asked.

Maddox delayed answering, finally saying, “I’m not sure I care for your tone, Sergeant.”

Riker stared at the captain before breaking into a crusty smile. “That’s him. That’s our captain. Even though I don’t know how he held it together that long with all my backtalk.”

“Are you through?” Maddox said.

“Yes, sir,” Riker said. “I’m done. It’s you.” Maddox heard the click of a safety from beneath the table and then Riker holstered his stunner.

Maddox looked at the others, glanced once more at Riker, shaking his head, and then resumed. “Heading to Crowder III and persuading the dictator would take too long, as Valerie pointed out. In truth, I broached the plan to see how you as a group would react. I know that I’m the one who was controlled by Potential Enki. But I’ve wondered if he might have had others under his control as backup.”

Galyan looked from person to person. “As far as I am able to tell, sir, each of them is the real McCoy.”

“And that’s Galyan,” Valerie said. “Only our little holoimage would use such a hackneyed phrase as real McCoy.”

“Thank you, Valerie.”

“That wasn’t praise,” she said.

“I know,” Galyan said. “But it was a vote of confidence toward me as me. I appreciate that.”

“Maybe we could get on with it,” Keith said. “Do we trust each other or don’t we?”

“I have no plans of going to Crowder III,” Maddox said. “Instead, I’m planning on hijacking a patrol boat and slipping incognito aboard a dreadnought.”

“What?” Valerie said, as she sat up. “That’s an even worse idea than our going to Crowder III.”

“I slipped onto one of their dreadnoughts before,” Maddox said. “I even impersonated an officer and gained rank while doing it.”

“You did it before as an emergency maneuver,” Valerie said, “after you popped out a portal onto the ship. What if Lisa Meyers is really on the moon?”

“How does Meyers being there change anything concerning my being on a dreadnought?”

“My point is that we need you here on Victory,” Valerie said. “Reacting on a dime is your specialty, sir. Working alone at this point on an enemy vessel would be throwing away one of your strongest abilities. Besides, what good are the dreadnoughts?”

“I could widen the search for Potential Enki from a dreadnought,” Maddox said. “We’re creeping around in the thickest part of the dust cloud on Victory, hindering and half-blinding ourselves in the process.”

“Sir,” Galyan said. “I feel I must side with Valerie on this. More importantly, however, given your present manner, it is clear you do not yet have a plan. If you did, you would either be telling us what to do or persuading us to do the right thing. I feel you do not know what that is and are therefore casting about like a blind man searching for his lost keys.”

Maddox scowled and drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table. His crew knew him too well. He didn’t have a plan yet. He had two main ideas, both nearly unworkable and fraught with peril.

“Oh, the captain has a plan,” Riker said, as he studied Maddox. “He simply isn’t sharing it with us yet.”

Maddox stared at Riker.

“Am I wrong, sir?” Riker asked.

“I don’t like interrogations from my crew,” Maddox said.

“There you have it,” Riker told the others.

Maddox sighed and shook his head. The first idea was taking Riker and maybe some of the space marines with him and trying to use the Moloch portals to get to the Ardazirhos and their main control chamber, wherever it was. From there, in charge of the portals, a method for capturing Potential Enki would likely present itself. And if nothing else, he could jump home through a portal. Otherwise…

Maddox slapped the table.

The others stiffened, not in fright, but in anticipation. They each watched him.

“Our best bet is capturing Potential Enki,” Maddox said. “That means we’re going to have to push ourselves to find him. We might have to take some risks and maybe do some fast-talking in case the dreadnoughts catch sight of us.”

“What about the Jotuns?” Galyan asked.

Maddox shook his head. “I don’t know enough about them. How long have they been in the gas giant? What are their plans? Can our ships destroy a hydro-lithium-hulled starship? No. We need the Builder, or Potential Builder. Without him…I don’t see how we can possibly go home again.”

“I agree,” Valerie said.

“I as well,” Galyan said.

Maddox nodded. “There it is. We turn into a Patrol vessel, as it were, hunting for an elusive alien. We might have to move fast once the moment comes.” He turned to Galyan. “You will not go back down to Moloch. Instead, we will use the first probe to extend your holoimage range.”

“What about your sensing ability?” Galyan asked.

“It’s too esoteric for me to trust enough,” Maddox said. “It worked once when I didn’t even know I was trying it. Besides, it smacks too much of magic instead of scientific inquiry.”

“I would not agree with that,” Galyan said. ‘Sight and smell aren’t magic but—”

“I’m not going to argue about it, Galyan,” Maddox said, interrupting. “We’ll do this the Patrol Way. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox nodded as he looked at the others. “We have our goal. We know how we’re going to try to achieve it: through capturing Potential Enki. Until then, we remain hidden from the humans, both on the dreadnoughts and on the moon.”

“And if Lisa Meyers already knows we are here?” Galyan asked.

“We’ll keep on our toes in case she shows up in our face,” Maddox said. “Until then, finding and capturing Potential Enki is our priority. Any more questions?”

There were a few, but none of them proved germane to the assignment at hand. Thus, after fifteen more minutes of desultory talk, everyone filed out of the chamber. It was time to get started.

-46-

Victory continued to drift through the back end of the dust-debris cloud held in place by Lucifer’s gravitational pull. All the while, the sensor crew used passive sensing equipment, searching for any sign of Potential Enki and his stolen shuttle.

At the same time, Galyan ranged through the dust-debris cloud, flitting about as a holoimage, searching with his optic sense. During the next few days, he saw the occasional patrol boat, some old decoy emitters and a piece of metal stuck in a tiny moon.

Lucifer had thirty-four moons, none of them near the size of Moloch, most hardly larger than a small asteroid.

Then Galyan spied something different. It was old and twisted, as if from an ancient explosion. He approached it, analyzing the object. It looked like a warped piece of bulkhead from a shuttle, perhaps its hatch. A quick spectral analysis told Galyan it was approximately 1,654 years old, give or take twenty-six years.

The flittering holoimage did not sense any energy or…wait. Here was something else. It was a mark, a symbol. He took a picture of it with his eyes and popped back onto the bridge.

“I found something, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox swiveled around in his captain’s chair as he drank a cup of coffee.

Andros and Valerie also turned in their seats to face Galyan.

The holoimage projected the pic from his eyes with a ray of light. They saw the mark, that of a serpent or dragon eating its own tail.

“What are you doing?” Valerie asked.

“I keep expecting the professor to speak up,” Galyan said. “I am projecting the mark I just discovered on a twisted hatch. Spectral analysis causes me to believe the hatch and thus the mark is one thousand six hundred and fifty-four years old, give or take twenty-six years.”

“The mark is that old?” asked Valerie.

“The hatch is that old,” Galyan said. “It is supposition then that the mark is of a similar age, but it is a reasonable supposition.”

“The mark or symbol looks vaguely familiar,” Maddox said.

“I am not surprised,” Galyan said. “It is an ancient symbol. It is called ouroboros or uroboros.”

“You mean it’s an ancient Earth symbol?” Maddox asked.

“Yes,” Galyan said. “It is depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail.”

“Oh,” Valerie said. “Yes. I can see that. Isn’t that weird?”

“I cannot say,” Galyan said.

“Does the symbol mean anything?” asked Maddox.

“Indeed,” Galyan said, as his eyelids fluttered for a moment. “As I said, it is an olden Earth symbol that originated in ancient Egyptian iconography. That is to say from a collection of myths from ancient Egypt. Those myths were a means—”

“We get it,” Maddox said, interrupting. “Ancient Egypt…” He glanced at the others. “Think about it. Egyptian pyramids, Builder pyramids or nexuses.”

“Or Ancient Egyptian-style pyramids on the fourth planet of Omicron Nine,” Galyan said. “The moronic Yon Soth Valerie slew lived under those worn-down pyramids, remember?”

Maddox snapped his fingers, pointing at Galyan.

“Are you saying there’s a connection to the ouroboros symbol and Builder nexuses?” Valerie asked.

“The possibility certainly exists,” Galyan said. “Or perhaps there is a connection to the Yon Soth on the fourth planet of Omicron 9 and the ouroboros symbol.”

“Is there anything more on the symbol itself?” asked Maddox. “Any more Earth legends or ideas that might give us a clue as to what it means out here?”

“I believe so,” Galyan said. “The ouroboros became a magical symbol in Greek thought, particularly in Gnosticism and Hermeticism and later in alchemy.”

“Alchemy,” Maddox said, “do you mean medieval alchemists trying to turn lead into gold?”

“You are referring to Western medieval alchemists,” Galyan said. “But that is not the full extent of alchemy. It was first practiced in ancient China, India and later the Muslim world, and those people were not primarily trying to turn lead into gold.”

“Okay,” Maddox said. “So, what does any of that have to do with us out here?”

“I am not sure that part of it does,” Galyan said. “But this could be. In the various modes of original Greek thought, the ouroboros was a symbol for eternal cyclic renewal.”

“What?” said Valerie.

“A symbol for the cycle of life, death and rebirth,” Galyan said. “Consider: the snake sloughs his skin, which became a symbol for the transmigration of souls or reincarnation. In some regions of old Earth, the snake biting its own tail was a fertility symbol. In other places, the tail of the snake was a phallic symbol, and the mouth a womb-like symbol.”

“Wait a minute,” Maddox said. “Galyan, didn’t Potential Enki try to bribe you with rebirth? He said you could become Driving Force Galyan in the Adok flesh once more?”

“That is so,” Galyan said.

“When did this Enki do that?” Valerie asked.

Maddox waved her question aside as he concentrated on Galyan. “This is important. Yes. Pieces are coming together.”

“In what way?” asked Galyan.

“Why the Yon Soth raised a barrier around the star system,” Maddox said. “Maybe why portals abound here and why this debris cloud exists with the strange pieces the Crowder humans attempt to mine. Maybe it also explains why the Yon Soth brought humans all the way out here.”

“Why?” asked Galyan.

Maddox shook his head. “I don’t know the precise reason, but the ouroboros symbol gives us the clue. Something about the star system helps rebirth or renewal. Think about it. Potential Enki believes he can bring the original Enki back into existence, and it seems he came out here to do it. Jotuns ships are deep inside Lucifer. Hell, for all I know, the names Lucifer and Moloch are important. Galyan, what exactly does the name Lucifer mean?”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “It is a biblical name for the Devil or Satan. It can also mean light-bringer or morning star. It was also associated with the Roman goddess Venus, which was the morning star. I would suspect that in this case it means light-bringer. In the Bible, the Devil or Satan masquerades as an angel of light in order to deceive people into sinning or doing wrong.”

“Okay,” said Maddox. “What about Moloch?”

“It is a term that appears in the Hebrew Bible,” Galyan said. “Moloch was a Canaanite god. Ancient Canaanites sacrificed their children to Moloch in order that he hear and grant them their prayers. A second meaning of the word is sacrifice. Incidentally, the Bible fiercely condemns child sacrifice.”

“Rebirth, reincarnation, sinning, the sacrifice of children to a satanic god,” Maddox said slowly, scowling, glancing at Valerie.

“I’d say whatever this place does,” Valerie said, “I mean the star system, is concentrated around the gas giant.”

“Why?” asked Galyan. “Because of the name Lucifer?”

“And that Moloch is a moon orbiting Lucifer,” Valerie said.

“Yes, yes,” Maddox said. “I agree with your reasoning.”

“I would like to be clear on this,” Galyan said. “You believe this because of the names?”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

Valerie nodded.

“Interesting,” Galyan said. “You do not feel then that the names are meant to throw off or confuse?”

“Not at this point,” Maddox said. “But…something does seem strange. The symbol of ouroboros, the one on the hatch, is one thousand six hundred and fifty-four years old. That’s long before the Englishmen were transferred here to become Crowder natives.”

“Yes, that is strange,” Valerie said. “And here’s another oddity. Why did the Yon Soth go to all the trouble of bringing humans out here? The difficulty of it, and that it was done, seems to indicate that he needed the humans here.”

“It must have been difficult to transport them here,” Maddox said, “especially if he needed a black hole. The nearest one was one thousand, one hundred and twenty light-years from Earth. Yes, why did it have to be humans?”

“We do not know that,” Galyan said.

“The difficulty of bringing them implies it,” Maddox said. “Maybe the Englishmen were a second wave of colonists. The first wave one thousand six hundred and fifty-four years ago might have died out.”

“Firstly,” Galyan said. “We do not know that the ouroboros symbol is human. That part might be coincidence. For all we know, the symbol could be…Ardazirho.”

Maddox stared fixedly at Galyan.

“You think so too?” Galyan asked.

Maddox shook his head. “I have no idea about that, but the inference to the Ardazirhos—you could be right. Maybe that’s why the wolf-aliens use the portals. Maybe this is a critical star system, and part of its importance has to do with the ouroboros symbol. What I mean is that one of the reasons Galyan enumerated concerning the symbol is true. Maybe this place has hidden powers, those powers locked or stored inside the gas giant.”

“The Planet Lucifer,” Valerie said.

“Lucifer,” Maddox said, and he squinted thoughtfully. “Whoever named the moon Moloch, I wonder what they meant to imply by it. Do they or whoever need to sacrifice something from the moon to Lucifer in order to gain…light or renewal that is like light?”

“Perhaps not light,” Galyan said, “but deceptively promised light—if the word associations we’ve uncovered mean anything.”

“Is that an assumption we can afford to make?” Valerie asked.

“That’s a good question,” Maddox said. “If it was just out of the blue, I’d say no. The fact that Potential Enki offered Galyan his Adok flesh shows us we’re in the ballpark with all this.”

“But…” Valerie said. “From what we’re learning, this is a monstrous place. It may give some kind of life, but at a terrible cost of devouring other life.”

Maddox snapped his fingers. “Second wave, we’re probably right about that. Hell, the Englanders might have been a third or fourth wave. The ouroboros symbol is much older than sixteenth century England. The twisted hatch came from one thousand six hundred and fifty-four years ago. Did the Yon Soth originally bring an even older group of humans out here and kill them for the sick nefarious reasons of this place?”

“You mean to drain their blood like vampires?” Valerie asked.

“Or drain their life force,” Galyan said.

“Eh?” asked Maddox.

“Do you recall Lisa Meyers’s evil manifesto?” Galyan asked.

“I remember there was one,” Valerie said. “Why don’t you run it by us as a refresher?”

Maddox turned to her.

“If that’s all right with you, sir,” Valerie said.

Maddox thought about it, nodding. “Wasn’t that from the time we faced the Hormagaunt?”

“It was, sir,” Galyan said. “If you’re ready then…?”

“Go ahead,” Maddox said.

From My Manifesto, Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers:

Humanity as a collective whole has no idea of the nature of its monstrous crime, its heinous act of procreative aggression. As a vast herd, humans are too dull, too bovine in their instincts to see further than the dinner plate or a meter beyond their pecker. They consume, fornicate and exude spawn at a prodigious rate, filling their worlds with ignorant spratlings. They fart, belch, drool and spew hollow words of vanity, boasting of deeds that would cause a donkey to blush for shame. Yet, that is not mankind’s grossest crime.

Listen closely and see if you can comprehend the grand mystery. During my deepest studies, I discovered that there is an essence of life in the universe: a force, a drive, an engine that propels a race to achieve—in whatever manner they are capable of doing. This force is a hidden property, but it is there, I assure you. And the secret of the cosmos is that only one species in a region can claim the semi-divine spark as their own. In doing so, they starve all others in that region of the wonderful and sublime catalyst.

Do you finally begin to comprehend my point? Isn’t it obvious? For reasons I cannot fathom, numbers have a higher claim on the life catalyst than genius, virtuosity or brilliance. In this instance, mass is more powerful than lonely talent. It is as if a million morons braying for their team have more claim upon existence than a single beautiful opera singer of exquisite skill and training.

Here, then, is humanity’s vile crime. They exploded onto the Builders’ sphere of inhabitation. Even more obscene, the gracefully Serene Ones aided mankind and watched them seed world after world, flooding the star systems with their bawling broods. As humanity’s reach bloated outward, they began to drain the life force from the far fewer Builders. As the life force drained from them, the Wonderful Ones became lax and indifferent to their sad fate. At last, the dwindling Builders departed or died, leaving their former region to the crass trillions of belching, bellowing humans.

Yet, fate intervened, as I awoke from my long slumber. Appalled at what I found, I analyzed the situation carefully, discovered the secret truth of life and concluded the obvious solution. Dare I say it? The plan I evolved was as brilliant and as simple as sin.

Now, you must surely see it. If not, I will explain. I will eradicate mankind in all his various forms—I mean total genocide for normals, New Men, Spacers, all—and the life force they misused will contract into a seething ball of potential, waiting for the next turn of the wheel. At that moment, I will reintroduce the few Builders left, and the life catalyst will enter and reenergize them so a new era of Builder brilliance will reemerge into the universe. That, my dear ones, is my goal, is my driving purpose. We are at war with crass humanity in order to bring about the perfect Builder Millennium. We strive in order for truth and beauty to exist instead of the maggot hordes of milling mankind.

What, I ask you, could be nobler than that?

Galyan ceased speaking. Those around him remained quiet and thoughtful, ingesting the Methuselah Woman’s pile.

Soon, Valerie stirred, looking up. “I’d forgotten about that. From the sounds of it, Meyers supped deep from Yon Soth thinking.”

Maddox’s mouth opened in shock.

Valerie noticed. “Do you think I’m right about that?”

“I do,” Maddox said. “That Meyers is here in the star system…more is going on than we realize. Maybe the barrier has a different purpose than what I originally thought. Maybe it makes this star system its own place. Thus, the life force here cannot spill out among the surrounding star systems, cannot suck out or drain the nearby life essences.”

“You think Meyers is right about the life force?” Valerie asked.

“I think we cannot dismiss it out of hand,” Maddox said. “Think about it. Why haven’t we found thriving alien species near us? Maybe Meyers’s theory is part of the reason.”

“Those of the Swarm Imperium surely would agree with you, sir,” Galyan said. “I am not so sure myself, though.”

“You may be right,” Maddox said. “In any case, continue searching for clues like this, and keep looking for Potential Enki. I think we’re on the right track.”

“Yes, Captain,” Galyan said, disappearing a moment later.

-47-

A forty-kilometer-diameter crustal was secured by magnetic anchor to its location on the molten surface of Moloch. In the largest building on the crustal, Professor Ludendorff strolled down a corridor with his hands in his pants pockets. He whistled as he walked, apparently out and about for his constitution.

It was anything but true, as Ludendorff had taken to exploring the last few days. To say he distrusted Lisa Meyers was to say that he liked women. In other words, it was as natural to him as farting, which he’d been doing more of lately given his diet. Well, it wasn’t only the diet. His nerves had upset his stomach.

He half raised his left leg and let out a squeaker. A quick glance around showed him that no one had noticed. It wasn’t that he would have been embarrassed. He’d cut one in order to look around, to have an excuse.

One needed to use what one had, after all. It was an old dictum with him, and quite profound, he believed.

Ludendorff continued to stroll, continued to whistle and keep his eyes peeled for something interesting. Meyers was insane, but she was still capable and highly dangerous. Her threat the other day about turning him into a dull-witted Merovingian still had him on edge. The threat hadn’t stopped him from snooping. Instead, it had spurred him on, knowing that eventually Meyers would change him into a towering idiot unless he preempted her in some fashion.

Ludendorff could have given her a working Builder transporter today if he wanted. He hadn’t tested it yet, as he hadn’t fixed it yet. He could, though. His three helpers had no idea he was holding back on them, on Meyers. But the last few steps were so easy a child could do it.

He grinned and might have laughed aloud. But maybe that would make him look insane. He’d been worrying about it since last talking with Meyers. He remembered that genius and craziness often went hand in hand. It would seem then that great genius might equal fantastic insanity, or a mind might teeter between the two poles.

Meyers had brilliant ideas, but she was a madwoman when it came to human genocide.

Fortunately, Ludendorff did not detect any madness in himself. Yes. He had plenty of balls and self-confidence, but the greatest human thinker should have that in spades.

He sighed—and he stopped.

A giant rounded a corner, heading toward him. The Merovingian wore a starched uniform and cap—the creature halted, looking up.

“Hello, Senior Cadet.”

Rad Kelsey frowned. “What do you want?”

“I was looking for you,” Ludendorff said smoothly.

“Why me?”

“Have I offended you in some way?”

“Why do you ask?” said Rad.

“You…you seem to be angry with me,” Ludendorff said.

“Quit dodging the question.”

“Very well,” Ludendorff said. “You’ve been polite the other times, but now you seem surly.”

“I was under orders then,” Rad said. “This is my own time, and I act how I feel like. Now, I say again, what do you want with me?”

Ludendorff shrugged. “I’m sorry for offending you. I’ll be on my way.” He turned, and he heard Rad striding for him. Ludendorff quickly faced back around.

The giant loomed before him, his big face twisted with distaste. “What are you up to, little man?”

Ludendorff was conscious of Rad towering over him and realized the Merovingian could kill him in an instant. In fact, Rad breathed heavily as if he was about to attack. Before Ludendorff knew it, he blurted, “I can help you return to normal.”

Rad loomed even more over him as if he was about to fall upon and rend him to pieces. The heavy breathing continued for another several seconds. Then, Rad backed off, his shoulders relaxing. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Ludendorff said breathlessly, trying to act confidently. That had been far too close. He might have died just now. He blinked deliberately, trying to reengage his wits. “I can…um, change you back to what you were.”

“Into a weakling?” said Rad.

“Is that what you were before Meyers changed you?”

“She’s the Queen, not Meyers,” Rad said, as he began to breathe heavily again.

“Of course, of course,” Ludendorff said. “She is our beloved Queen.” Quit stalling. He’s huge, but you have to take a chance while the opportunity is there. Ludendorff cleared his throat, deciding to go for it. “But I don’t think you really love her.”

Rad showed his teeth like a dog might. “I should kill you for saying that.”

Ludendorff nodded briskly. This was a knife’s edge situation, but this was the moment. Confident boldness was the key. “Yes. I realize you can kill me. However…at the risk of offending you, which I don’t want to do, as I like you—”

Rad sneered.

“The truth is,” said Ludendorff, “I think you secretly hate the Queen.”

Rad froze for an instant. Then, something glittered in his gray eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

“What? No! Not in the least. Why would you say that?”

“Because it sounds as if you’re threatening me,” Rad said. “It sounds as if you’re going to run and tell the Queen I hate her. Or you want to hang that over my head like…like…a sword. Damnit, I can’t remember its name anymore.”

Ludendorff tried to follow the giant’s tortured logic. Then it struck him. Rad must mean the sword of Damocles. That implied a classical education. Yes. In his former life, Rad must have been intelligent…and some of that intelligence yet remained in this brutish form. “Are talking about the sword of Damocles?”

“What’s that?” snapped Rad.

“Well,” Ludendorff said, deciding how to play this, “long ago, a man told his friend the king that he had the good life. The king did. Everyone had to do what the king said, and he took what he wanted. The king said it wasn’t as good a life as his friend thought it was, as there were many dangers attached to the privileges.

“‘What do you mean?’ asked the friend.

“To show his friend, the king had Damocles sit on the throne, everyone obeying his commands. However, a sword hung point down from the ceiling, a sword aimed at Damocles’ head. The worst part, the sword hung by a thread that could snap at any moment.”

Rad scrunched up his face as Ludendorff spoke. Now, the giant nodded, although he asked, “Did it hang by a thread or a by a hair?”

“You’re right,” Ludendorff said, “it was by a hair, not a thread.”

“I remember,” Rad said, his eyes shiny. “If the hair parted, the sword would plunge into Damocles’ head and kill him.” Rad squinted. “And that’s what I meant. You’re hanging the threat over my head like the sword of Damocles.”

“Actually, I’m not. I told you what I did—about you secretly hating the Queen—so you’d have something to hang over me, thereby knowing you could trust me.”

Rad scowled as he listened to Ludendorff’s logic, finally shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I already have something over you.”

“Oh. What’s that?”

“The Queen hates your guts more than she hates everyone else. Because of what she did to me, she doesn’t think I’m smart anymore. But I am smart. I still understand things.”

“I see,” Ludendorff said.

Rad scowled even worse, and he moved with sudden speed, slapping Ludendorff across the face, knocking him to the floor.

Ludendorff groaned as he lay there, his face throbbing and head ringing. Rad Kelsey was dangerous and unpredictable. He’d have to remember that, and he needed to calm the brute. Ludendorff looked up with tears of pain in his eyes. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you’re an arrogant prick,” Rad shouted. “You talk snooty as if you’re better than me. But you aren’t better. You’re a prisoner here just like me.”

Real fear surged in Ludendorff. It was bad to remain on the floor, as it made him look weak, and maybe the worked-up monster would start stomping on him on general principle. Ludendorff sat up slowly and deliberately so as not to upset the brute. As Rad did not make any aggressive moves, Ludendorff continued until he was back on his feet. His face throbbed, but he refrained from touching or rubbing it.

“You think I’m dumb,” Rad said, “but now you know I’m not. I knew that your haughty remark was an insult, and I’m sick of insults. I’m sick of being huge and having to listen to everything the Queen tells me. She turned me into what I am even though I was her best general, the best, do you hear, the best!”

Ludendorff kept from flinching even as the giant shouted the last best. He nodded in a sympathetic way, and said, “I wasn’t aware of that.”

“You suspected it, though. I know you did because I’ve seen you watching the guards watch me. The guards don’t trust me because of what I told the Queen before she did this to me.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Ha. Now, you’re being a polite prick. Now, you know what it feels like having someone slap you in the face. Most eggheads have no idea of the feeling, so they spout off however they feel. Slap an egghead, though, let him know he has to fight for his beliefs, and he turns into a slick little coward like you.”

“Why don’t we stick to the point?”

Rad squinted at him and slowly raised his right hand as if he was going to strike again.

Ludendorff saw it for what it was: a bullying threat. He dutifully cringed, as that should make the oaf happy.

Instead of a broad bully smile, however, there was a secret twist to Rad’s lips.

Something clicked in Ludendorff, a Maddox-like insight, perhaps. Ludendorff rejected the classification even as he thought it. It was a Methuselah Man insight. Rad the Merovingian was more than he let on.

“Why are you play-acting this way?” Ludendorff asked.

Rad lowered the hand, and wheels seemed to turn in his mind. “You’re shrewder than I realized, little man. I’m practicing playing an idiot. I never figured you’d catch on. Unfortunately, despite what brains I still possess, I’m less intelligent than I used to be. My biggest advantage over the other Merovingians is that I understand my low estate.”

“You mean in terms of intelligence,” Ludendorff said.

Rad nodded. “The others don’t know they’ve become stupid, but I do realize. Because of that, I’ve been able to regain some of my lost intellect.” Rad sighed. “It eats at me, though. My low mental estate makes me sick. And the Queen doesn’t trust me anymore, which is why the guards watch me closely when I’m around her.” Rad shrugged. “It’s a hellish existence. I hope I didn’t slap you too hard.”

Ludendorff stared at the Merovingian as his suspicions soared. “I see. This is all an elaborate trick. You’re hoping to trap me. Meyers—the Queen must have put you up to this.”

“No. This is all me. There are no tricks…” Rad became intent. “Were you serious about returning me to normal?”

“Absolutely.”

“How would you do it?”

“I don’t know yet. But I am Professor Ludendorff. If there’s a way, I can find it.”

“I was General Lukas Locus, and I was in charge of her Majesty’s crack portal team. We—” Rad shook his head. “I lost half my men coming here—”

“You used portals?”

“Of course.”

“Why does Meyers need a crack portal team?”

Rad’s manner became shifty. He shrugged.

That’s a red flag, Ludendorff realized. Why did Meyers need a crack portal team? There was a precise reason. He was sure of it, and it wasn’t just to secure a place on Moloch.

“I had thirty operatives left,” Rad said, continuing, “but the Queen lost faith in me…maybe because I lost faith in her because I learned about her genocidal plans for humanity. I still understand enough to find the idea loathsome. But this place and the wolves—” Rad shrugged, but the gesture felt sneaky, like misdirection. “It feels so hopeless these days that I do exactly as I’m told.”

“Interesting,” Ludendorff said. The last bit about the wolves—Rad must mean the Ardazirhos of Central-Control. Could that be the reason for a crack portal team, to attack Central-Control?

“What’s interesting?” Rad said.

“What? Oh. My theory about the threat of becoming Merovingians has turned out to be true. Meyers hangs it over you, over her people. Do you happen to know why Meyers came here?”

“Do you mean Moloch or the Crowder System in general?”

“Either.”

Rad glanced right and left before he lowered his head, whispering, “I know there’s a room in his building where she holds something vital to whatever she’s planning.”

Ludendorff’s eyes shone with avarice and a devil-may-care attitude. “How big is this thing?”

“I could carry it.”

“Rad. Or should I call you General Locus?”

“Rad will do for now.”

“Can you show me this thing? I’d like to see it.”

“What’s the use?” Rad said. “You seeing it won’t help us any.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Remember, I’m a Methuselah Man. We could steal it and slip away with it onto Victory.”

Rad frowned. “I’ve heard of Victory. Doesn’t Captain Maddox run it?”

“Indeed, he does.”

“Victory isn’t in the Crowder System.”

“Oh, but it is,” Ludendorff said. “I won’t explain how I know, but I do. I don’t have its precise location yet, but I suspect I could find it quickly enough if the need arose.”

“It still doesn’t matter, as we can’t leave Moloch under any circumstances.”

“Oh yes we can,” Ludendorff said, “and I can make sure the Queen cannot follow us, either.”

Rad stared at Ludendorff as indecision filled his gray Merovingian eyes. “You’re a sly rat. I know that much about you. But…” Rad shook his head. “What do I have to lose? I’m sick of being a freak and sick of always wondering what I can’t remember. Come on, little man. I’ll show you the thing.”

-48-

The towering Rad Kelsey led the way as Ludendorff followed.

After a short time, Ludendorff said, “Wait. We’re going about this wrong.”

Rad halted and regarded him.

“You should grab my arm like you did several days ago. That way, if anyone sees us, they’ll assume you’re doing this for the Queen.”

“You know what they say about assume.”

“No,” Ludendorff said. “We don’t have time for stupid jokes.”

Rad’s face tightened, and he put a fist under Ludendorff’s nose. “You calling me stupid?”

“That was a poor choice of words,” Ludendorff said meekly. “No. I’m not calling you stupid. Yes. I do know what assume means. You’re going to make an ass out of u and me. You grabbing me like that is a form of deception.”

“Okay. Yeah. I get it.”

Rad wrapped huge fingers around Ludendorff’s left triceps and marched him down various corridors. Ludendorff had to trot at times, and twice, Rad lifted him higher. Then, Ludendorff ran on his tiptoes, propelled by the much bigger man.

After several more turns, Rad and Ludendorff approached an area swarming with white-suited guards carrying cone rifles. The guards gave them dirty looks.

“I can’t show you now,” Rad said quietly. “Last time I was here, no guards were around. Something is different. We’d better go.”

“Good idea,” Ludendorff said. “But don’t turn around right away. Do it when they’re not staring at us. Otherwise, it will look suspicious.”

Rad didn’t reply. Instead, he followed the advice, turned another corner and came upon an even larger group of guards, about fifteen. Lisa Meyers was among them. She wore a dark blue pantsuit with dark blue shoes and a light blue holster with blaster. A guard beside her gripped a gray tablet.

Ludendorff recognized the tablet as a portal unit. Then he realized the guards around Meyers were on high alert, not because of them but something else.

“Professor,” Meyers called, as she spied him. “What are you doing here?”

Ludendorff couldn’t think of anything clever, so he jerked a thumb at Rad. “He said you wanted to see me on the double.”

Rad’s big head swiveled so fast, the Merovingian stared down at Ludendorff in what appeared as surprised hurt.

“I gave no such order,” Meyers said. “What’s the real reason?”

“My Queen,” said the tablet-holding guard. “The indicator light just snapped on.”

Meyers glanced sharply at the tablet. “Portal!” she shouted. “A portal is going to appear. Get ready for anything.”

Before Ludendorff could whisper for Rad to get the hell out of here, three swirling portals appeared, all at the same time. One was down the corridor, one near Meyers and one a meter from Ludendorff in midair.

Ludendorff tried to back away from it.

Rad tightened his grip. “Oh no you don’t, you lying son of a bitch. You sold me out.”

“No I didn’t,” Ludendorff hissed as he struggled to work free. The portal grew and deepened in color, making a swishing sound as it did. “I’m improvising!”

Something black moved in the midair portal, squeezing through and dropping, hitting the floor with a clank. It was large oval-shaped object, obviously metallic and—

“Bomb!” shouted Ludendorff. “That’s a bomb. It has to be a bomb.”

Guards shouted in fear.

“Throw it into the portal,” Ludendorff shouted at Rad. “Throw it before it detonates and kills us.”

Rad released him. A second later, the giant bent over and grabbed the oval object. With a grunt and a groan, Rad raised it off the floor. Clearly, it weighed more than he could easily handle.

“Throw it into the portal!” Ludendorff shouted from behind.

Rad lurched one step, two with the heavy load cradled in his arms like a stack of weights. Lights began to flash on the oval object as it started to buzz.

“Hurry,” Ludendorff cried. “It’s going to explode.”

Sweat poured from Rad’s face. He took another lurching step, tripped, but somehow managed to keep his feet under him as he stumbled for the opening. With a cry of despair, Rad struck the edge of the opening and toppled into it as he held onto the oval object. He fell headfirst into the midair hole and continued to slip through, his feet disappearing from view as he carried the bomb with him.

An explosion must have occurred then, as muted waves of blast emanated from the opening, and in a moment, that opening or portal zipped shut, disappearing.

Ludendorff had already dropped onto his belly, with his arms held over his head and his eyes squeezed shut. When nothing more horrific happened, he opened his eyes.

Rad Kelsey and his bomb were gone. Near Meyers, three of the guards had picked up a different oval object that had fallen through the second portal. With a heave, the three hurled it into the opening.

A similar process occurred as with the first, destroying the second midair portal, although none of the guards fell into it.

The last oval object that had fallen out of the last portal exploded, but it didn’t destroy the guards standing near it. Instead, the area where it appeared—including the people standing in it—faded from view, the air vibrating and the vibration slowly expanding outward.

“Quick,” Meyers shouted. “We must retreat. Everyone retreat from the phase-out.”

It wasn’t a retreat but a stampede as guards shouted in terror. From on the floor, Ludendorff saw them coming and realized they’d trample him. He jumped up and sprinted ahead. He kept looking back, seeing the guards running, their faces twisted with terror. Soon, Meyers ran ahead of the pack. She held a wand, touching various guards on the knee. The guard cried out and collapsed onto the floor. Meyers vaulted over the fallen man each time. Some of the fallen scrambled up in time to continue running. The others screamed as the vibrating air washed over them.

Ludendorff realized the Queen used the oldest trick known for escaping an attacking bear when you only had one bullet left in your gun. You shot the nearest person in the knee, making sure the bear caught him first, giving you longer to escape. In this case, Meyers had cleared a path for herself, letting nothing hinder her escape.

Soon, Ludendorff and Meyers sprinted neck and neck ahead of the pack. The two exchanged glances. Ludendorff kept an eye on the wand. Fortunately, Meyers didn’t swing it at him.

The two of them plunged through an open hatch. Ludendorff stumbled going over the lip of metal on the floor, crashing upon the deck plates and sliding. When he stopped, he scrambled to the side as the guards raced through the open hatch. Finally, two guards turned and heaved the hatch shut, sealing them from the former corridor.

Ludendorff was panting, holding his left side. He calculated they’d run over two kilometers. He sweated and couldn’t bring his breathing under control.

Soon, though, two guards hauled him to his feet, bringing him before a panting Queen.

“What’s a…a phase-out?” Ludendorff asked.

The Queen stared at him, too busy breathing heavily to lift the wand tucked in her belt. “The phase bomb effect, which destroyed that part of the building,” she finally said.

“So…we fled from a lack of atmosphere?”

“At the end,” she said.

“Do you know who launched the bombs?”

Meyers stared keenly, searchingly at him. Finally, she said, “Obviously the Ardazirhos did so.”

Ludendorff didn’t know why, but it felt as if she was lying. Yet, it did seem like the obvious answer. “Why would the Ardazirhos do that to you?” he asked.

Meyers accepted an air mask from a guard, taking several gulps of pure oxygen, bringing her breathing under control. After handing back the mask, she said, “What were you and Rad doing there?”

“I told you. He brought me to see you.”

Meyers’s features tightened. “I never ordered him to do that.”

“He told me you did.”

Once more, Meyers gave him that scrutinizing study. “You’re lying. Tell me the real reason. Do you know…about the bomb attack?”

Ludendorff shook his head emphatically. “If I did, why would I go where I could be killed? Hook me up to a lie detector. It will show I’m telling the truth.” Centuries ago, he’d learned how to trick a lie detector. The skill had helped him survive many tough situations.

Meyers become thoughtful. “Why do you think Rad lied to you?”

Ludendorff figured the Merovingian was surely dead, or as good as dead. If the giant were alive somehow, Ludendorff was sure he’d never see him again. So, he had no compunction about selling Rad down the river.

“Well,” Ludendorff said, “he told me he used to be one of your generals.”

Meyers’s eyes narrowed. “The bastard,” she whispered. “He was turning traitor, was he?”

“He was actually one of your generals?”

“Have a care, Professor. I can turn you into a Merovingian and have you take his place.”

“I’m not trying to anger you. I’m genuinely curious as to why he’d take me to see you.”

“Hmm. I assume he told you I kept key equipment there. I needed that equipment to—never mind. The equipment is gone. The Ardazirhos must have divined my plan. They launched phase bombs to take it out of play. Their chief is cleverer than I’d anticipated. Perhaps the legend about him is true.”

“What legend?”

Meyers’s gaze tightened again. “Never mind. If you need to know, I’ll tell you. Until then—Professor, when will the transporter be ready?”

“If I’m lucky…three days.”

Meyers stared up at the ceiling. “The chief has zeroed in on me here. I must have been right about…” She eyed Ludendorff. “I need at least three dreadnoughts. To capture them, I need the transporter. It has to be able to operate continuously for at least three hours.”

“Understood,” Ludendorff said. “I’m curious, though: do you have enough Merovingians to hijack and hold three dreadnoughts?”

“You’re perceptive. I do not. I need to use the same team three times. There will be losses, but if we attack fast enough, my guards can relieve the Merovingians each time. We’ll have to slaughter most of the crews, of course—” She stopped talking, scowling, obviously pondering. “Given what just happened…I need the transporter sooner. In fact, I need it today.”

“Methuselah Woman, I’m not a miracle worker. I can only do what I can do. What is the plan, anyway?”

“Professor, you’ve become far too curious, and your being at the portal bomb-site at the instant of attack—I wonder if you’re working with the wolves.”

“On no account,” Ludendorff said.

Meyers’s stare became more accusatory.

“Why would I rush to destruction?” he asked.

“Maybe you thought to use a portal to escape?”

“How could I have timed that?” Ludendorff asked.

“Rad Kelsey—” Meyers closed her mouth.

“It’s like I told you,” Ludendorff said. “This was Rad’s plan. He told me you’d summoned me.”

“I’m beginning to believe you. Yes, that’s making sense. Rad must have retained much of General Locus’s knowledge. How interesting.”

Yes, it is, Ludendorff thought. Is there a war going on between the wolves of Central-Control and Meyers? I’m beginning to think so.

“Professor,” Meyers said.

Ludendorff pulled it together, focusing on her. “Yes?”

“I must capture the dreadnoughts now. Otherwise—we may have to leave the Crowder System fast. The Ardazirhos aren’t going to leave me alone long enough to get it done.”

“Attack the wolves,” Ludendorff suggested. “Throw them off balance.”

Meyers’s eyes shined with suspicion, which she hooded almost immediately. “No. I have several portal tablets, but I have no idea how to reach Central-Control.”

She’s lying about that. Why? What is she worried about from me?

“Ah,” Meyers said. “I have an idea. I cannot attack Central-Control, but I might be able to keep the Ardazirhos busy. Professor, how would you like to earn your freedom?”

“That depends.”

“I’ll give you a portal tablet, a team of Merovingians…and Iris,” Meyers said, watching him closely.

“Iris would agree to go with me?”

“Iris…has angered me,” Meyers said. “She is presently undergoing therapy and will undoubtedly have a change of mind. As you’re no doubt aware, the Spacers are arrogant pretenders when it comes to the Glorious Ones. But if you will accept a preset tablet—”

“Wait a minute,” Ludendorff said, interrupting. “I’m not going on a suicide run for you. Preset means you’ll send us into the heart of the Ardazirhos’ defenses.”

“Act sharply enough and you’ll survive the assault.”

Ludendorff turned away. General Locus had led a crack portal team of soldiers. Locus had lost favor and become a Merovingian. Meyers had just mentioned Iris as a portal soldier. To enter a portal and possibly attack the Ardazirhos—that sounded like suicide indeed. It would be better to live today and see what happened tomorrow. Decided on his plan, Ludendorff regarded Meyers again. “There is a small possibility I could repair the transporter sooner than I’d anticipated.”

Meyers smirked. “That didn’t take you long. Give me a time the transporter will work—and it had better be much sooner than anticipated.”

“In several hours, perhaps.”

“Then you were lying to me earlier.”

“Not in the least. I can now accept greater risks—”

“No!” Meyers said sharply, lurching to him, grabbing one of his wrists. “Don’t risk the transporter. It’s the key to everything, as we’re going to need it if we hope to defeat the Jotuns.”

“The Jotuns are really in the star system?”

“Two of their ships are hidden inside Lucifer,” Meyers said. “Can you get the transporter operational without risking it?”

Ludendorff pretended to think about it. As he did, he wondered what had happened to Rad Kelsey, if the Merovingian was dead or not. Should he trust Meyers or take his chances with a present portal tablet after all?

“Yes,” Ludendorff said. “I’m eighty-nine percent certain I can get the transporter working and without grave risk within three hours.”

“You’re committed then,” Meyers said. “Do not disappoint me. Go. Get it working. I must ready the Merovingian Regiment. Then, we shall take the plunge for glory, victory and a blessed return of the Builder Hegemony.”

-49-

Rad Kelsey the Merovingian tumbled through a maze of portal pathways as he pulsated from one spectrum to another. If an independent observer could have watched him, he would have seen the giant soldier fade to near invisibility—and nonexistence—then to a deeper hue and reality than seemed possible. At those times, he was much heavier and existent in a metaphysical sense. At those times, he threatened to push through the pathway membranes created so long ago by the Yon Soths.

The blast from the phase bomb had given him amazing velocity. He moved so fast that he zipped past every possible outlet or opening. He raced down many pathways, crisscrossing vast distances throughout the Milky Way Galaxy. Then, through a twist of circumstances, he rebounded toward the origin blast, heading toward his beginning.

He no longer oscillated from near non-existence to greater density and reality, but rather he balanced out to his normal state. It was then that a tiny red tracer blinked as the slowing and no-longer-transmuting form of Rad Kelsey whipped past it.

The tracer blinked, becoming increasingly brighter. Then, it began to shed brightness as it gained velocity chasing the body. A tiny ray of light shot ahead, latching onto Rad Kelsey. The tracer increased speed even as the body’s velocity slowed considerably.

The bright red tracer reached Rad Kelsey and attached onto his neck. It grew to almost the same brightness as when it had begun the process. Now, however, it had lost most of its mass.

The tracer tripped various items drifting in the pathways. Those items ejected power or shot a ray upon the passing form, slowing it even more. The ejected powers also turned the Merovingian’s body onto different pathways. At last, the drifting body fell through a long unused tube, plunging deeper, deeper—

The tracer flared into a last brightness. Rad Kelsey jerked into a side passage, freefalling toward a faint blue opening. He was going too fast for a safe landing. Fortunately, a beam reached up from the opening, cushioning the giant’s descent. At last, he fell through the opening as Maddox had once fallen through and broken a man’s neck. Rad didn’t fall onto a man, however, but onto a broad cushion. He struck, bounced and then the opening above dilated shut. His rate of descent had been lesser than Maddox’s, but into a place with a much greater gravitational force.

Rad grunted. His eyelids fluttered, and his life functions shot into the red, into death.

A slot opened upon a bulkhead and a large spider machine scuttled from within.

Sub Bar Potential Enki was inside a force bubble within one of the Jotun vessels that cruised the greater atmospheric depths of Lucifer. If he wasn’t exactly a prisoner, he also was not free to move about the vessel. In truth, he could not have survived anywhere else on the ship except the force bubble, as it was the only area that had normal gravity and atmospheric pressure for him.

Potential Enki dragged the lug of a Merovingian through a bulkhead slot and into a larger chamber. This chamber possessed various machines of strange form. The mechanical spider maneuvered Rad upon one of the machines, scuttling around the man as he attached leads and sucker-pads to the cold flesh.

Machines hummed into activity as Potential Enki went to work on Rad. Events had not proceeded as he’d envisioned when first leaving Victory. For instance, the Jotuns weren’t anything as he’d hoped they would be, but were nefarious and possibly wicked in a Yon Soth ethical sense.

That could prove worse than terrible. Potential Enki did realize the Jotun vessels had entered the star system from a different avenue than he presently understood. Perhaps if he were Enki the Builder, he would perceive. Until then, he worked from the assumption that the Jotun vessels parked in a Phase Sleeve inside Lucifer ninety-eight percent of the time. That did not seem logical, but if true, it did mean the Jotuns in the vessels were thousands of years out of date. The ships were out-of-date as well, but that wasn’t as important. The antiquated Jotuns had maintained an abundant life essence while corrupting their nature.

Potential Enki had begun to wonder if the Jotuns were transmuting into Yon Soths, or if they had become spratlings of vile nature. Did that mean a Yon Soth survived in the heart of the planet? Potential Enki did not see how. But then, he wasn’t as brilliant as he would be soon.

I must mutate into Enki. I must shed my potential and turn it into actuality. But I cannot transform in the force bubble. I must reach the Temple of Life and ingest existence and manna there.

How could he escape the force bubble, though, without dying in the greater Jotun vessel? The hydro-lithium hull protected an environment lethal to his machine existence. The gravitons and extremely dense atmospheric pressure inside the ship would crush him and destroy the potential he’d carried for so long.

None of the Jotuns had spoken to him yet. He had been naïve approaching them so openly, not realizing their mutated and vile natures.

Time hadn’t been kind to the Jotuns. It was quite possible a Yon Soth had played a trick on them, or if not a Yon Soth, then something else of similar intelligence.

None of that mattered, though. Escaping his prison was the key. How could he reach the Temple of Life, which was deep inside the rocky core of Lucifer? How had the Yon Soths hijacked the temple and managed to insert it into the Jovian gas giant’s core? There were mysteries piled upon mysteries in this star system.

Oh, how he longed to transmute and become Enki, and gain the intellect and insight into these things. He felt dull and stupid when he’d been fashioned to become sharp and brilliant.

No, no, he could not worry about that right now. He needed to understand this human, who seemed bigger than the others he’d seen. Potential Enki scuttled back and forth between machines, working to keep the creature alive.

For a time, it was touch and go. The human’s heart stopped three times. The lungs collapsed, and there was a monofilament fiber that threatened the kidneys with malfunction. Finally, however, the body stabilized.

Potential Enki started on the mental facilities. He soon discovered that the creature was a mutated freak, possessing extraordinary strength but limited mental powers. Methuselah Woman Meyers had accomplished the feat primarily through drug therapy. How extraordinary.

The spider machine made extensive tests before breaching the brain core and downloading the memories. He used the machines to extract critical data, eventually discovering the personality of General Lukas Locus. That man struck him as interesting and more useful than the—

“Merovingian,” Potential Enki said.

He’d learned refinement since speaking with Galyan. Yes, better to use the general than the soldier. Could the general survive the return trip to Moloch?

Potential Enki ruminated for several hours. That the soldier should land here now struck him as ominous. There was another mind behind this, of that he was certain. But did that mean he should refuse the gift? No. He must use what he had, as the general might well help him to…

Potential Enki decided to use the gift. Should he attempt transmutation here then? In the end, he computed that the general would better help him than the soldier. Thus, Potential Enki started the process of human rejuvenation, shrinking the body and expanding the intellect of his subject.

Over the next few hours, the Merovingian giant shrank to normal human dimensions. It would not have been possible without these precision machines and Potential Enki’s skills.

Finally, a man a little under six feet and with broad shoulders and muscular arms lay on the machine. He had similar features to Rad Kelsey, but nobler and obviously more intelligent.

The eyes snapped open as the man stared at Potential Enki.

“Do not fear,” the spider machine said.

General Lukas Locus croaked in terror, shrinking back from the mechanical monster.

“No, no, that won’t do at all.”

The spider machine adjusted the other machines, and electricity and other currents flowed through the leads and sucker-pads into the general. The man jerked, cried out, sweated and dry-heaved.

The spider machine increased the voltage.

The jerking, dry heaving and sweating intensified.

Eventually, the spider machine lowered the intensity and finally ceased the shocks.

General Lukas Locus stared at him, but there was no longer any fear in his eyes. “I perceive,” the man said in a robotic and calm voice.

“I want to believe that,” Potential Enki said.

“I will gribble the tong to the nth power and lower the gain of the refracting machine when I get the chance,” the man said.

Potential Enki considered that. “Yes. That should be sufficient. However, without a functional Builder transporter, none of this will work.”

General Locus understood what the spider machine meant by the transporter, the one Professor Ludendorff tinkered with. He did not understand the spider machine’s full plan, but he knew that he would get to kill Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. That would be enough for him, a reason to undergo grim trials.

“Are you ready then?” the mechanical spider asked.

“Able and willing, as I have the jets,” General Locus said.

“Your last statement is nonsensical. You must revert to your original meanings. You must become the general if you hope to achieve the goals.”

“How do I reach HQ?”

“I hope you do not mean Central-Control.”

The general’s head twitched. “Let the bitch try for it herself. I’m no longer interested in the wolves. I was referring to the Queen’s crustal on Moloch.”

“I have a method that will give you a forty-seven percent chance of reaching the correct destination.”

“As small as that?” asked Locus, dismayed.

“I’m afraid it is the best I can do under the circumstances.”

“Very well,” Locus said, as he hardened his resolve. “I willingly accept the risks.”

“Good,” the spider machine said. “We will launch—we must go immediately. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” General Locus said, as he tried to sit up.

The leads and sucker-pads, and the wires attached to them, made that impossible.

“Allow me,” the spider machine said, using a cutter, freeing him in seconds.

Afterward, General Lukas Locus stood ready for a portal to appear, eager to gain his revenge against Lisa Meyers. He swept back his black hair and considered a second target. With a nod, he decided that he would assassinate Professor Ludendorff as well. Before he did any of that, however, he would have to use the Builder transporter and beam Potential Enki to the crustal on Moloch. Then, the murder-fest could begin in earnest.

-50-

Before General Locus launched from the force bubble in the Jotun vessel, hoping to use a portal pathway, Starship Victory drifted nearer the edge of the dust-debris cloud. The starship did so at the far end of the Jovian gas giant area.

At Maddox’s orders, Andros launched small probes. These probes raced for the edge of the cloud, soon leaving it and beginning to search passively for signs of any unusual activity.

At the same time, Galyan continued to flit around inside the dust cloud, searching for more clues. He debated going to the moon with the chunk of metal embedded in the surface. He hadn’t thought to check last time. Now, he felt it might be a good idea, especially as he hadn’t found anything else.

He ranged as far as possible, and yet could not reach the small moon. Thus, he popped back to the bridge and requested the captain to move closer to the asteroid-sized moon.

Maddox gave the order. Keith put it into motion. And Starship Victory used a bit more thrust than it had been since arriving in the Crowder System.

At first, that made little difference. The starship moved deeper inside the cloud, heading toward the area Galyan desired. Unfortunately, they could not use the enhancer probe, as a strikefighter went out to retrieve it from its last position. The strikefighter attached a line and towed the enhancer probe back to Victory, which continued to move toward its new heading.

Galyan ranged ahead of the starship, roaming through the dust-debris cloud as a holoimage, seeing what he could see.

What he did see was a cryston-hulled patrol boat far off course from the others. The patrol boat searched, using sensors as Victory moved through the debris cloud with greater thrust than ever.

This is not good, Galyan realized.

He went into ghost mode and entered the patrol boat, and he found the three-man crew in a state of high excitement. The sensor operator had spotted Victory and was beginning to send a message about that back to the others.

Galyan acted fast and with precision. He maneuvered near the man and called upon the discharge power from his holo-imager in the main AI Chamber. The voltage flowed from it, through space, to Galyan and zapped loudly into the control cabin.

The blast struck the man, and he flew violently against his board, smacked against it and crumpled upon the floor.

The second man was close, received half the voltage, groaned dismally and shot to his feet. The effect of his quick standing and the discharge was enough to cause dizziness, and he fainted, dropping onto the floor, groaning in a semi-torpid state.

The last man—the patrol boat’s pilot—was farthest from the voltage. He was also tougher than the other two, a stick of a man with a scarred face and scarred knuckles. He liked to fight, to hit others in the face, even if he broke his knuckles from time to time. He grunted from the quarter zap, drew a stunner and searched with his eyes throughout the cabin.

“What are you?” he asked in an even voice upon spying Galyan.

The message the sensor operator had been sending had luckily cut off because the man had hit the panel, aborting the transmission. Now, the panel blinked red, and an unseen woman said, “Did you see an alien ship?”

The skinny pilot with the scarred face pulled the trigger. The stunner bolt had no effect on Galyan, simply passing through him.

“You can’t be a ghost,” the man said.

“But I am,” Galyan said, hoping to work on the man’s superstition.

“Balls,” the man said, firing again, this time noticing the stunner bolt passing through Galyan to hit the bulkhead behind him. “Okay. If the stunner can’t hit you, you can’t hurt me.”

“I took out your friends,” Galyan said. He was trying to buy time for the pulse emitter in the main AI Chamber on Victory to build up for another long-distance discharge.

“Green Patrol Boat Five,” a woman from a different patrol boat said from the comm panel. “Answer please. Did you just report upon seeing an alien vessel?”

The pilot zeroed in on that and began heading for the comm panel.

“Listen,” Galyan said, floating up to the pilot. “I have a deal for you.”

The pilot hesitated before Galyan. Then, he poked the barrel of the stunner into Galyan and watched it pass harmlessly into him.

“Are you a holoimage?” the pilot asked.

“Yes.”

“Shit,” the pilot said, moving through Galyan to the comm panel.

“What do you want?” Galyan asked. “Money, power, women—I can give you whatever you want.”

The pilot looked over his shoulder at Galyan. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Yes.”

The pilot nodded. “You’re from the alien vessel, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“What did you do to my crew?”

“I discharged voltage into them,” Galyan said. “If you don’t take the bribe, I’ll do the same to you.”

The lean pilot stared at Galyan. “You’d already have done that if you could.”

“Green Patrol Boat Five,” the woman said through the comm panel. “You must report immediately. What happened over there? Did you run into an alien ship? This is a Priority One Call. You must report immediately.”

The pilot’s eyebrows rose, and he grinned at Galyan. “Thanks, buddy. You just did me a favor. This Priority One ought to gain me rank—”

Galyan flitted into the pilot and discharged again. It wasn’t as strong a blast as the first one, but Galyan did it from within the man’s body.

The pilot jerked, his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed onto the floor.

Galyan had also put one of his ropy arms into the comm panel. The discharge had destroyed the comm and hopefully the locator in the patrol boat.

It was time to tell the captain what had happened.

-51-

Maddox sat in the captain’s chair on Victory’s bridge. He couldn’t see a damn thing on the main screen, as this was the thickest part of the dust-debris cloud.

He’d ordered the starship here after two strikefighters had towed Patrol Boat Five onto a hangar bay deck.

The bridge’s sensor operator no longer received data from the emitter-sized probes Andros had launched earlier, as the dust, debris and radiation in the cloud made that impossible. Could hidden but nearby patrol boats be jamming the signals as well? It was a possibility.

Galyan ranged as far as he could go, and had reported nine enemy patrol boats moving along a grid pattern, their sensors straining to find the alien vessel.

Maddox had been weighing options. He could send out strikefighters to engage the patrol boats, but that would confirm the worst for the Crowder people. If he destroyed the patrol boats, the commander of the expedition might order the dreadnoughts into the cloud.

Victory was alone out here with limited resources. There was no way to leave the star system. Sure, they could engage the star drive and hop away to a different area of the system. That might simply mean a prolonged engagement, maybe lasting a few years at most. In the end, they would lose. Perhaps it would be wiser to continue playing cat and mouse with them, staying hidden long enough so the others lost interest.

How long would that take?

Maddox shook his head. He wasn’t sure.

He debated with himself about taking the captured patrol boat and working onto a dreadnought by impersonating a crewman. From there, he might work up the ranks until he ran the damn ship. Maybe he could build a Crowder team over there and slowly take over all the dreadnoughts.

And then what?

Maddox scowled. He wanted to go home. He wanted to hold Meta and baby Jewel. He wanted—

“Enough,” Maddox said softly. Wishing wasn’t going to help him. He had to outthink Lisa Meyers and the dreadnought commanders. He also had to defeat the unbeatable Jotun vessels and find Potential Enki. A Builder might know how to cross two hundred thousand light-years.

Maddox closed his eyes. He remembered his last words to Meta. He’d only be gone a few days. It had already been a few months. What if it turned into a few years, a few decades?

“No,” Maddox whispered. He would break his self-made oath and enter a portal before that. He would storm the wolf stronghold and teach them the meaning of rage, of screwing with other people’s lives.

“Sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox opened his eyes, realized he’d been slouching, and then straightened. The little holoimage floated before him.

“More patrol boats have joined the others,” Galyan said.

“Double the number then?”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

Maddox nodded. He’d been expecting that.

“Perhaps we could negotiate with them,” Galyan said.

“And tell them what?”

“About Lisa Meyers down on Moloch,” Galyan said.

“I doubt that will interest them.”

“About the ouroboros symbol and its possible meanings,” Galyan said.

Maddox thought about that. Could he use that, bargain with the dreadnought captains? Would they give him the time? If they knew who and what Victory was, might they attack all the harder?

The dust-debris cloud was their friend. As long as the starship could remain hidden—

Maddox snapped his fingers. “Lieutenant,” he said to Keith. “Are there other dust-debris clouds in the star system?”

Keith swiveled around. The slow maneuvering through the dust cloud bored him—he’d told them that several times already. “There is another gas giant, and it has a much smaller debris cloud. Do you want me to star-drive jump to there?”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

“But sir,” Galyan said. “This is the heart of the star system. If we run away now, we may miss our chance.”

Maddox studied the little holoimage. “What makes you say that, and miss what chance?”

“Fate does, sir.”

“Explain your meaning,” Maddox said.

“Why did these things happen to us now?” asked Galyan. “I had just decided to check the chunk of metal on the small moon. What is happening now is keeping me from doing so.”

Maddox raised his eyebrows. “Let me get this straight. You think because you thought—an AI thought—of going to the specific moon that fate intervened and threw that stray patrol boat at us?”

“I realize it sounds absurd, sir,” Galyan said. “But this is a strange star system, and we have been engaged in a strange quest.”

“The last part is true,” Maddox said.

“And I realize from your statement that you do not think an AI thought is as valuable as a human thought.”

“Only if we’re talking about fate,” Maddox said. “Fate implies religious ideas. Are you religious?”

“I believe I am,” Galyan said.

Maddox shrugged. “Fine, you’re religious, having concepts of God and the afterlife. I still doubt fate played the trick on us because of what you were thinking.”

“Sir,” Keith said, raising his right arm. “I could go check the moon for Galyan. I could even pull out the chunk of metal and bring it aboard Victory.”

“That might not be wise,” Galyan said.

“You mean, use the tin can to go there?” Maddox asked.

“That’s right,” Keith said.

Maddox faced Galyan. “Would that satisfy you?”

“You may be risking too much, sir,” Galyan said.

“No,” Maddox said. “I don’t think so. Lieutenant, get the metal piece. Galyan, give him the coordinates to the small moon. Once you’re back aboard,” Maddox told Keith, “we’ll jump to the other gas giant’s dust cloud.”

“Thanks, mate,” Keith said, jumping up. “I finally get to do something. Come on, Galyan. We have to do this fast.” Keith trotted for the exit, leaving the bridge.

“If fate did intervene against us,” Galyan told Maddox. “It might do so again.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Maddox said. “Now go. The lieutenant is right. We don’t have much time to do this before one of those patrol boats finds us. Give Keith the coordinates and then continue watching the approaching boats.”

Galyan nodded and disappeared.

-52-

Sergeant Riker sat in a nearby crash seat as Lieutenant Maker ran through his preflight checks in the tin can. Riker wore an extra-bulky spacesuit minus the helmet, which was nearby. Riker was supposed to go outside and get the metal piece once they landed on the asteroid-moon.

“You ready, old man?” Keith asked as he worked.

“I don’t know why the captain wants me in particular to do this,” Riker complained. He’d been brooding about it ever since Maddox had called and given him the order. Riker had balked, saying it wasn’t his sort of thing. Maddox had insisted, and there might have been a catch in his voice. Something about that had caused Riker to quit arguing. Now he was having third thoughts, having already worked through his second.

“Hey, doing this gives you something to do,” Keith said.

“I’ve already done my part this mission.”

Keith paused in his preparations to stare at Riker. “If you feel that way, why don’t you retire?”

“Did you volunteer to do this?”

“Of course,” Keith said. “I’ve been bored sick this mission. I want something exciting to do.”

Riker shook his head. “You’ll learn…if you live long enough.”

“If old age turns me into a cautious codger like you, I don’t want to live that long.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Bah. I’ve heard that all my life. It’s such a stick-in-the-mud saying. I’ll wish what I damn well want to and not worry about it in the slightest.”

“Have it your way.”

“I plan to,” Keith said. ‘Now, hang on. I’m getting ready to fold.”

“We’re still in the hangar bay. We should go outside first.”

“Time’s a-wasting, old man.” Keith flipped switches and rapidly pushed buttons. “We need to shave off every second we can before those patrol boats spot the starship.”

Riker grumbled under his breath, but otherwise said no more. Why had the captain wanted him to do this? It made no sense. One of the younger space marines would have loved the mission, and been better suited, too.

Soon, the interior vibrated the slightest bit. They were folding, crossing from one point in space to another. Riker’s normal eye went out of focus and nausea hit. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to sit utterly still. He would not vomit, certainly not in front of this braggart of a pilot. His regular eye came back into focus, although the nausea was still there.

Riker’s head swayed. Keith was slumped in the pilot seat, with blood trickling from his nose. At the same time, there was a sharp jar against the tin can and creaking sounds from the outer bulkheads.

What was that all about? Riker unbuckled, stood and became dizzy. Added with the nausea, he vomited and dropped onto his knees. He almost vomited again, but held it back by force of will. What in the hell had happened?

The creaking sounds continued as if the outer bulkheads buckled and twisted. He needed to do something and quick.

Riker put his palms on the deck, barely avoiding the mess he’d made there. With a grunt, he pushed and surged up to his feet. He staggered to Keith, as there was gravity in the tin can due to grav pods, which was a good thing now.

“Keith, can you hear me?” Riker didn’t shake him but touched his shoulder.

Keith groaned but didn’t open his eyes.

Riker maneuvered around the seat to look at the piloting screen. The tin can must have slid across the small asteroid-moon. They’d folded here. The moon was ten kilometers by twenty-five by sixteen. The creaking had ceased, and it appeared as if the fold-fighter had lodged against a rock formation, the stubby wings holding them down against moon-granite as the wings had gone under a shelf of rock. That was a freak occurrence. They must have appeared just above the surface, a far-too risky fold, and then slid across the rocky terrain. It was a wonder the moon rocks hadn’t torn a hole in the hull.

Riker held himself still, listening for hisses or other sounds that would indicate the worst. When he still didn’t hear anything, he told himself klaxons would be blaring if moon rocks had breached the hull.

“What happened?” Keith slurred, with his eyes still closed.

Riker looked down. There was blood on the lieutenant’s lips.

“I feel sick,” Keith said.

“We’re on the moon,” Riker said. “We’re lodged pretty good so we’re not moving.”

“Don’t say it, old man.”

“What? That I told you so?”

The closed eyelids quivered as if the lieutenant was trying to open them to glare at Riker.

“It doesn’t matter,” Riker said. “How sick are you?”

Furrows appeared on Keith’s brow. “Something happened to us. It wasn’t a normal fold.”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know exactly, but I can hardly stay awake and my mind hurts. How come you’re better off than me?”

“Must be the whiskey,” Riker said.

“What?”

“I have a shot or two every night. It helps keeps my system clean.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Here,” Riker said. “I’m going to wipe your mouth and nose. There’s blood all over them.” He used a rag and wiped the ace’s face. He peered at the nostrils, but if they were still bleeding, it was just a few drips instead of a problematic gush.

“You know,” Keith said, with his eyes still closed. “Maybe it’s the damned hunk of metal we’re supposed to get. It did this to us.”

“A hunk of metal can’t do that.”

“Why did Galyan forgo looking at it before? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Riker scowled. It was odd, out of character for Galyan. But the ramifications of what Keith suggested… “You think the metal affected the Adok AI from all the way out here?”

“What screwed with the tin can just now, with us, or me, anyway?”

“Maybe we should just fold back to Victory and call it a day.”

“No can do,” Keith said. “I can’t pilot just now. Can you?”

Riker didn’t answer. He could pilot if he had to, but he didn’t want to risk it.

Keith inhaled, struggled to a straighter sitting position and shook as if he willed—his eyes opened. He tilted his head to look at Riker. “You’re blurry.”

Riker saw specs of blood in the eyes. Had the evil effect done something to Keith’s brain? Was it a hemorrhage or a stroke?

“I can hardly blink my eyes,” Keith said, forcing himself to anyway. “I’d wipe my eyes, but I know that would hurt.”

“We can’t stay here. Like you said before the fold, time is ticking. Either we head back, or I go get the metal piece.”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking we should leave the metal alone.”

Riker frowned. He felt something then. It was a slight tug at his brain, a tiny vibration. What did that suggest? Riker closed his eyes, seeing if he could sense—

A vivid image filled his thoughts. The hunk of metal embedded in the moon was a quarter kilometer from the tin can. It wasn’t just metal, but a machine of some kind, a small machine, an ancient machine. It had lain dormant for centuries but had sensed a roving AI, which had triggered—

Riker grunted, his head sinking lower between his shoulders. The thing sensed him, knew that he sensed it and now activated something that shielded it from his thoughts—

Riker’s eyes opened. How had he sensed the thing? That wasn’t logical—oh. Riker had a gut feeling. Maddox, Captain Maddox, had a new intuitive sense gained from Balron the Traveler. Maddox had insisted that he join Keith. Could the captain’s intuitive sense have told him that Riker would be critical in retrieving whatever that ancient machine was?

Many years ago, a portion of a Ska had touched Riker. That touch had sharpened something different in him. It let him sense what others often did not. Maybe this was one of those times where the half-healed hurt could help Riker because he could feel what others would miss because of the tenderness of his raw spirit.

“I’m going out to get it,” he told Keith.

“Bad idea, old man,” Keith whispered.

“I agree, but I’m the one in the hot seat, so I’m the one that has to go. Try to rest, but don’t do anything else.”

“Sure…” Keith said, sounding sleepy.

Riker turned away and moved to his helmet. He hoped Keith didn’t decide to fold back without him. What was that thing out there? Whatever it was, it was aware again, and maybe it was a missing piece to what they were going to need to get home again.

-53-

In his bulky spacesuit and helmet, Riker left the airlock of the fold-fighter, gingerly stepping onto the moon’s rocky surface. It was dark out here, as the dust-debris cloud hid the light from the system’s star. Riker wore the extra-protective bulkier spacesuit to protect him from the radiation emanating from the gas giant. It made a difference that this moon was farther away from Lucifer, but the suit was still critical.

Riker felt claustrophobic walking out here as he carefully picked his way across the moonscape. Ninety percent of his light came from a lamp in his helmet. Dust drifted in small clots of particles, at times soundlessly striking his helmet.

He didn’t sense the machine anymore, but had a good idea where it had been when he could sense it. He slowly climbed a rocky hill and worked down the other side just as carefully. Given the moon’s tiny size, any hard jump might send him drifting into space as he reached escape velocity. He had a small thruster-pack on his back, but didn’t want to use it if he didn’t have to.

A glance back showed Riker he could no longer see the tin can. Loneliness gripped his heart. He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on that. He had a job to do and would stick to that.

The climbing in the nearly zero gravity was harder than he thought it should be. That was mainly because he had to move so carefully. Soon, his breathing became harsh, and the suit conditioner snapped on to cool his rising body temperature. He’d already started to sweat. Too much would overload the suit cycler.

Something caused him to look up. He squinted, thinking to see motion behind the ever-drifting dust and debris. With a click of his chin, he used a zoom function within the visor. He saw a dark patrol boat then. Something flashed on it, a bright something.

Seconds later, rocks began to split and erupt near him.

Firing—the patrol boat is firing shells at me. Did that damn machine cause it to find me or did my helmet lamp give me away?

Panic caused Riker’s heart to thud faster, and that increased his rate of breathing.

More rocks erupted around him. One of the shells would hit him soon, and that would be it. He had to be proactive.

Then he had an idea.

Riker clicked on the helmet comm. “Keith, wake up. A patrol boat is firing at me. Destroy it, man. Destroy it or its going to kill me and then you.”

Riker shut off the helmet comm. The patrol boat operators might be able to zero in on him if he spoke longer. He’d clicked off his lamp just in case it was helping them target him. They might already be zeroing in on him anyway. Thus, he pushed off as hard as he could, jumping horizontally, shooting across the moonscape. Terrain passed several meters below him. He didn’t see any more rocks split and erupt, but maybe that was due to his lack of light. He added a squirt of thrust, changing his direction just in case.

Inside his helmet, sweat poured off his face. The suit conditioner was humming. The energy expenditure likely gave him away, helped the patrol-boat pilot to pinpoint his exact position.

Light flared behind him.

Riker looked back. He saw the back of a missile, the bright exhaust propelling it faster. Keith must have heard his message, and must have—

Riker looked away, barely in time.

Bright light flared for an instant, throwing stark shadows before him. Was that the warhead detonating, taking out the patrol boat? Or had the patrol boat destroyed the missile?

Riker tightened his muscles in anticipation of shards of metal piercing his body, killing him. He kept himself tense, and realized he was headed for a mountain or a rocky hill at least. He couldn’t afford to smash into it.

Switching his helmet lamp back on so he could see properly and using all his skills, Riker managed to turn around and squirted thrust, a little more, and readied for impact. His feet struck before he was ready. His legs absorbed the impact, as he was forced to squat. The back of his suit struck the rocky terrain.

His eyes stared at the visor controls, searching for alarm red. Thank God, he hadn’t hit hard enough to breach the suit. He did start to float away from the rocky terrain.

He twisted again, applied the barest of thrust, and watched as his booted feet moved closer to the surface. He struck softly enough that he didn’t bounce off again. He breathed raggedly, exhausted and sweating profusely. He really was getting too old for this—

“Belay that, you old dog,” Riker whispered. “Get it done. The others are counting on you. And…thank you again, God. I appreciate You letting me live.”

With shaking legs, he began negotiating the rocky moonscape. He used a directional beacon, found the tin can’s location and reoriented himself. He was closer to the embedded machine than earlier.

That was something at least. He looked up but couldn’t spot any drifting debris from the exploded patrol boat. The missile must have taken it out. He hoped it hadn’t been an antimatter missile—

No, the radiation would have killed him if it had been an antimatter warhead. Keith had used a conventional missile.

He sucked on a water tube, parched and tired. By degrees, he worked along the moon surface—

A glitter of light showed him the prize. He halted. It did not shine or glitter again, but he knew where it was now.

Doggedly, he continued toward it. Should he try to communicate with it? Or should he just pry it out of the ground—

Like Excalibur from the stone.

Riker stopped. He hadn’t thought that. He remembered Excalibur had been the name for King Arthur’s magic sword that the youth had drawn from a stone, but he wouldn’t have thought of the metaphor. That meant the machine had inserted the thought into his mind.

Riker’s gloved hand dropped to a holstered Gyroc pistol. Maybe he should destroy the machine on general principle.

Pain struck his mind, debilitating pain.

Riker knew then that the machine was a trap, a bad thing. He needed to leave and get the hell out of here.

Yes. I will let you live if you go.

“I’m going,” Riker whispered. Despite the pain, he turned around to leave.

The pain lessened, which was good for the thing, because it could not keep that up for long.

Without thinking it through, Riker spun back around, drew the Gyroc pistol, aimed—and realized sickly that he’d forgotten to load it. He wondered if that was true, though. He always prepared before a mission.

You didn’t this time.

Riker considered pulling the trigger anyway.

Waves of pain struck his mind as nausea hit. He clenched his teeth, fighting to keep from vomiting. If he did too much in his suit, he could drown, right?

That’s exactly right.

What was out there? What—

Riker pulled the trigger. He had no idea if he’d remained aiming it in the right direction. The Gyroc pistol spat out the .75-millimeter rocket-propelled shell—he had loaded it after all. The rocket’s motor ignited. The shell spewed exhaust as it sped forward.

The pain abruptly ceased in Riker’s mind. He blinked his eyes, but his good one would not un-blur. He closed that eye and used the bionic one.

Waves of some kind of emanation radiated from the metal embedded in the moon rock.

Riker acted mechanically then, reloading the Gyroc as he broke it open like an old-time shotgun. He inserted another shell, snapping the big pistol closed.

As he looked up, the first shell veered off course and blast against moon rock. Pieces of rock and shrapnel rained upward, some of it leaving at far faster than escape velocity.

Before the thing could start making his brain hurt again, Riker sighted it and pulled the trigger a second time.

As before, the big pistol spat out the shell, which ignited its rocket motor. The heavy Armor-Piercing Explosive, or APEX, shell, sped at the metallic thing in the rock.

Once more, Riker reloaded. Maybe this was like a ship-to-ship battle. Some of those were simply a matter of having more ordnance than the enemy had defensive shells or shield power. In those kinds of fights, pouring out missiles and beaming lasers to overload the enemy’s defense won the day.

Stop this, Riker. It is wrong. I can help Victory defeat the Jotuns.

Riker wanted more information, as he didn’t trust the thing out there. Maybe it was like Captain Maddox and would say anything to defeat the enemy.

He was aware of the latest shell exploding harmlessly to the side of the thing. He’d already fired another shell, though. He checked. He had four more APEX shells left.

That won’t be enough.

Inside the helmet, Riker shook his head. He wasn’t going to listen to defeatist ideas. He was going to fight until the end. His gut told him this thing was a liar and evil beyond belief. He had no idea how he knew that.

It isn’t true. I’m an old machine left by the Yon Soths. They didn’t like me anymore because I was starting to become good.

Once more, pain spiked in Riker’s brain. He sobbed with effort, trying to pull the trigger. He kept his bionic eye on the thing out there and was surprised to see it glowing. What did that mean?

There was no answer, just the pain and his frozen trigger finger.

With his bionic left hand, Riker pried the Gyroc pistol out of his stiffened fingers.

No! That is not fair. You’re part machine. Stop this, Riker. I can help you become a god if you stop now.

The bionic arm raised the big pistol. The bionic eye targeted. A bionic finger pulled. The shell ejected. The motor ignited, and the shell sped at the glowing metal thing in the rock.

You useless old bastard, I hate you. I curse you. I spit on your grave.

Riker had an instinct for what was going to happen. He lowered himself to the moon surface and hugged it as tightly as he could.

He didn’t see the APEX shell strike the metal and detonate. The delay fuse blew and the penetrator smashed through the armored core of the thing. It struck the ancient vitals, beginning a chain reaction.

The ancient machine embedded in the rocky core exploded, hot pieces flying everywhere.

Riker felt the ground shake under him. He kept trying to press himself against the rock. He waited for the end. The thing had cursed him. He was going to die.

Riker kept breathing, waiting for it to end, to end, to—he raised his head. It was dark again. The machine no longer radiated light. It did not glitter. There was no sense of it either.

Wordlessly, Riker rose. Should he check this out? Curiosity filled him. The desire to live was even stronger. It was time to leave. He turned around and started back for the tin can and Keith. What had just happened out here? Had Maddox foreseen with his intuitive sense what would happen? Or had it just been a lucky guess on the captain’s part.

“If you survive, you old geezer, you can ask him,” Riker told himself. That gave him a spark of energy, as he was dog-tired and felt demoralized by the curse.

He sucked water, sucked on a concentrates tube, and that revived him and helped raise his spirits. He’d beaten the thing. Riker grinned. Yeah. Beating it felt good.

-54-

In time, Riker reached the tin can, finding Keith snoring. Luckily, no more patrol boats had fired at them, no thanks to the sleeping ace.

Riker shook him awake.

“Hey,” Keith said, and then he started to blink. “What’s going on? What am I doing here? How come I’m not on the bridge?”

Riker peered at the ace. The man’s eyes—the pilot looked confused. “Don’t you remember what happened?”

Keith frowned. “Oh… Yeah. We’re on a moon, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you get the hunk of metal?”

Riker shook his head.

“No? What happened?”

Riker almost said he killed it. But it had been a machine. Thus, it had never been alive. “I destroyed it.”

Keith frowned, and then he nodded. “So, it was more than a hunk of metal, huh? It was alive or some kind of AI. You know it mentally attacked me.”

“We need to fold back to Victory.”

“Was it alive?”

“It was a machine. I destroyed it.”

“How do you know it was a machine?”

Riker almost blew off the question. Instead, he paused. He didn’t know exactly. The metal had been embedded in the surface. Could something have lived in the metal all this time? He doubted it.

“I don’t know how,” Riker said. “Galyan called it a hunk of metal. Maybe it was an advanced alien computer. I destroyed it, whatever it was. Now, we need to fold the hell out of here.”

“Sure, but I’m not folding directly into the hangar bay. This dust cloud is a bitch, making pinpoint folding difficult.”

“Whatever you do, let’s go already.” Riker moved to a spare crash seat, finding that he was shaking from exhaustion. What an ordeal. He was looking forward to a hot shower and days of sleeping in his cot. If he could just figure out how to nullify the curse—”

“That’s strange,” Keith said, interrupting Riker’s thoughts. “We’re almost out of power.”

“What did you say?”

“The lights and heater are working on emergency battery power.” Keith tapped his controls, stared at the screen for a moment. “Could something have sucked all the energy from the fuel pods?”

Riker’s eyes widened. Was the ancient machine or the moon itself like a mechanical vampire, draining power? If that was true… “Can you patch a call through to Victory?”

“Should we risk it?” Keith asked. “Patrol boats might pick that up and triangulate our position.”

“Risk it,” Riker said. “We gotta get out of here.”

“So why is our atomic fuel spent? Can you tell me?”

Hearing it a second time…Riker knew it then. The asteroid-moon did have an energy-draining function. It would mean Victory’s destruction to come too close to pick them up. The drain must be subtle, though. And why weren’t there crashed patrol boats here, ones that had come too close in the past?

Maybe crashing against the small moon had propelled or bounced the inert boats back into space. There was one other thing. The asteroid-moon was in the thickest part of the dust-debris cloud. Might the drain have something to do with the cloud’s creation…whenever it had occurred?

Riker muttered under his breath, unclicking his restraints. He moved to Keith. “Give me that.” He didn’t wait for Keith to give him the microphone but pried it out of the ace’s hand.

“Rude much?” Keith said.

Riker clicked it on. “Victory, this is urgent. Can you hear me?”

The two of them stared at the comm. If no one answered, they were dead men.

“Sergeant?” Maddox said, his voice tinny sounding.

“Sir,” Riker said in relief. “The moon is a trap. I destroyed the machine, the hunk of supposed metal. The moon drains power, though. We can’t fold back to you.”

There was silence on the other end. Had they lost the connection?

Maddox came back online. “You must don spacesuits, go outside and physically jump and then use your thruster-packs. Get as much distance from the moon as possible. I’ll have strikefighters pick you up.”

“What about patrol boats?”

“Go outside and jump, Sergeant. Use the thruster-packs. That is an order. Do it before they’re drained as well.”

“We’re going,” Riker said, realizing the captain had divined the obvious. “Shut everything down but for the lights,” he told Keith. “We might have to reenergize our thruster-packs.”

“I don’t know,” Keith said. “I don’t feel so good. Maybe I should wait here for someone to pick me up.”

“You stupid punk,” Riker said without heat. “This is the adventure you wanted. Now, get cracking. I can’t do everything myself. I need a little help from the peanut gallery.”

“Ha, ha,” Keith said in a drunk-tired voice, but he started climbing out of his seat.

***

It was a narrow run thing, having enough battery power to reenergize the suits. The battery power in the suits was almost zero and the thruster-packs in the red. Even as they drained the little left from the tin can, the supply dwindled rapidly.

Riker was beginning to think that the only way they’d been able to reach the moon was by folding here. Maybe that was why the patrol boat had failed to hit him. Their sensors must have been down, and they’d used dead reckoning.

Too many things did not make sense, though, for Riker to be one hundred percent certain about any of this.

Keith and he stood outside the tin can, each of them wearing an extra-bulky spacesuit, with small thruster-packs on their backs. Riker had just hooked a line between their belts.

“Come on, let’s hold hands,” Riker said.

The two suited men reached out, their gloved hands clasping together.

“We’ll jump on three,” Riker said. “Jump as hard as you can. My bionic leg is probably going to give us the bulk of the needed thrust. That means hold my hand as hard as you can.”

“Got it, mate. Let’s do this before we can’t.”

“One…” Riker said, “two…three!”

The two men jumped. They sailed upward, Riker moving faster and farther than Keith. Their gloved hands strained. Keith lost his grip. Riker did not, as he’d used his bionic hand to hold on. He dragged the other with him, their momentum soon matching each other.

Dust and tiny pieces of debris struck their helmets, but none of the space junk hindered their forward motion.

“Let’s use the thrusters,” Riker said. “We’ll turn them on three. Ready?”

“Yes,” Keith said.

“One…two…three—turn on your thruster.”

The small thruster-packs spewed hydrogen particles, giving them more velocity. Hand in hand, they gained speed, thrusting until the packs ran out of hydrogen.

“Shut down your pack,” Riker said. “We don’t want to waste any power.”

The two sailed through the darkness. Neither had turned on their helmet-lamps. They drifted on their gained velocity, striking dust particles the entire time. It was dark, like drifting through space fog.

“How are the strikefighters ever going to find us?” Keith said.

“They will.”

“You hope.”

“They will,” Riker said stubbornly.

A half minute passed.

“What a balls-up of a mission,” Keith complained.

“I don’t know. Maybe this is what Maddox hoped would happen.”

“Are you serious?”

“Save your breath, lad. We did our part. Now, it’s up to the others to save us.”

-55-

As Sergeant Riker and Lieutenant Maker drifted away from the asteroid-moon, Professor Ludendorff worked on the huge Builder transporter on the crustal floating on the molten lava sea on Moloch.

Ludendorff’s three helpers did as told. He’d been working for several hours already. Meyers had come by twice to check on progress. Both times, he’d told her it was almost ready.

Ludendorff attached a special modifier matrix generator to a panel. After testing the connections, he went to the panel and ran through several selections. Each time, the lights blinked green. It was a go on this end.

He chuckled in an evil way.

“What’s so funny?”

Ludendorff spun around to find Lisa Meyers standing behind him. Four of her white-suited guards with cone rifles watched him just as closely as she did.

“I was worried about the matrix generator,” Ludendorff said calmly. “It works perfectly, though. And this was why you needed and still need me. The transporter would never have worked without this addition.”

“And that was why you laughed like Machiavelli hatching a scheme?”

Machiavelli had been an Italian diplomat, philosopher and historian during the Renaissance period on Earth. He wrote several books, one of them called The Prince, written in 1513 A.D. It had been an amoral political treatise on gaining and holding power. An American President Richard Nixon had written a college thesis on the book, no doubt using some of the principles he’d learned during his political career in Washington. While Machiavelli had been a Florentine patriot, many people used the term Machiavellian to mean unscrupulous cunning, especially in politics.

“Did my laugh offend you?” Ludendorff asked.

“Your quick repair of the transporter tells me you could have done it at any time,” Meyers said. “Why were you holding out on me?”

“My Queen—”

“No!” Meyers said, interrupting. “I’m not your queen. I don’t want you to sully the appellation.”

Ludendorff dipped his head. “As you wish. The transporter is almost ready, though. I need to make several more tests and check nine more relays. Is your regiment ready to transfer to the first dreadnought?”

Meyers stared at him, her pupils like tiny pools of oil, full of deep distrust.

The four guards shifted the cone rifles in their hands, perhaps getting ready to aim and fire at Ludendorff.

Meyers laughed suddenly, shaking her head, releasing the tension. “You’re a sly rascal, but you are helping me. That is quite wise of you.”

Once more, Ludendorff dipped his head. That had been close. He was certain she’d almost ordered him slain.

The guards relaxed a little, although they kept watching him.

“Yes,” Meyers said, “the regiment is preparing. How many Merovingians can you send at a time?”

“First, we have to break through the chosen dreadnought’s force screen.”

Meyers shook her head. “The Builder transporter doesn’t need to ‘break through.’ The men, or whatever, will simply transport through the force screen directly to their destination.”

“If that’s the case,” Ludendorff said, “you could transport antimatter bombs and blow up one or two dreadnoughts as an example. The rest would likely surrender to you.”

“We’ll do this my way, if you please.”

“Of course,” Ludendorff said. “I meant no disrespect.”

“Or was that why you were laughing before?” Meyers asked. “Did you envision doing that to me, hmm?”

“I have no reason to work against you.”

“Which dodges the question. Guard Captain!” Meyers said, staring at one of the men.

The man stiffened and clicked his boot heels together.

“You and your men will watch our guest,” Meyers said. “If, in your estimation, he is pulling a double-cross, you will immediately kill him without giving him any warning.”

“Yes, O Queen,” the Guard Captain said in a gruff voice.

“I feel that I must protest,” Ludendorff said.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Meyers said. “You’re alive at my sufferance.”

“Is that any way to treat the man giving you the transporter?”

Once more, Meyers stared at Ludendorff. “Are you suggesting that was why you delayed fixing the transporter, because you thought I wouldn’t reward you properly?”

Be careful what you say, Ludendorff told himself. Admit to nothing negative. He put on his most trustful face, a serious professional mien. “I’m suggesting that you might find other devices that need fixing. Isn’t it better to have me on hand, grateful for all you’ve done for me, instead of my having to worry that your goon will murder me in cold blood?”

“It is unwise of you to call my Guard Captain a goon,” Meyers said.

“So, you do mean to murder me?” Ludendorff said.

“You’re testing my patience, Professor. You’d do better to placate me.”

“Which is exactly what I was trying to do by fixing the transporter,” Ludendorff said. “Instead, though, a goon—yes, I have no problem calling him that—a goon with kill orders is going to watch me.”

Meyers frowned.

She’s devious, beautiful, brilliant and quite mad. I should have already fled her service. Skate as close to the truth as you can, old man. She once was a sane Methuselah Woman. That part must still reside in her.

“Logically,” Ludendorff said, “your Guard Captain should kill me as soon as you leave. That way, he makes sure nothing bad can happen to him. If he doesn’t shoot me, and anything goes wrong, you’ll hold him responsible for it, and turn him into a Merovingian.”

Meyers glanced at the Guard Captain. “Would you logically do that?”

Once more, the man clicked his boot heels together. “I would not, my Queen. Your welfare is my greatest concern. If the professor is useful for your cause, I would rather keep him alive.”

“There,” Meyers told Ludendorff.

Ludendorff scoffed. “Do you think he always tells you the truth? The man is terrified of you. He says what he thinks you want to hear from him.”

Meyers’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to sow dissention among my guards. Perhaps I should have you shot immediately.”

Fear lanced up Ludendorff’s spine, causing him to grimace. He forced himself to speak calmly. “I feel I should point out that the transporter is not yet operational.”

Meyers pursed her lips, becoming thoughtful. “You really do not like the kill order, do you?”

“I do not, as it saps my morale and steals my incentive to work for you.”

“An honest answer,” Meyers said. “I can appreciate that in a Methuselah Man. Very well, I accept your point.” She turned to the Guard Captain. “On no account are you to kill the professor. You will subdue him if needed, but he mustn’t die.”

The Guard Captain nodded sharply.

“Does that satisfy you?” Meyers asked.

“It does,” Ludendorff said, “as I believe I can talk to you and explain any misunderstandings.”

“Are you expecting any?” Meyers asked sharply.

“I am covering my bases, my Queen.”

This time, Meyers didn’t rebuke him for calling her queen. “Finish repairing the transporter. I will have the first platoon of Merovingians ready to launch within an hour.”

“I hope to be done by then,” Ludendorff said.

“You’d better,” Meyers said. “Until I see you again,” she saluted, turned and stalked away, leaving the chamber.

The Guard Captain and his detail remained behind.

“You heard her,” Ludendorff said. “I’m to remain alive.”

“I know that,” the Guard Captain said.

“Just make sure you stay out of my way,” Ludendorff said. “I have work to do, critical work for your Queen.”

“She’s your Queen as well,” the Guard Captain said.

Ludendorff didn’t respond but went back to studying the transporter. It would be wise to leave this place sooner rather than later. Was Starship Victory really in the system? If so, it might be smart to escape there.

-56-

In a storage chamber in the Number Three Building on the forty-kilometer crustal, a midair portal appeared. The portal turned deep blue in color and remained that way for 57 seconds. At second 58, the deep blue began to pulsate, quickly fading to a lighter blue color. The pulsating increased, and the portal began to shrink. Once the shrinking occurred, the process sped up, the hole becoming smaller and smaller.

Then, booted feet appeared, and a man squeezed through the dissipating portal. The hole tightened even more, and shoulders—with the arms held out of sight beside his head—stuck. The man began to wriggle violently. If the hole should tighten even more before he made it all the way through—

He wrenched through, yanked his head and arms with him and fell onto the floor, gasping for air, his features bluish from lack of oxygen.

It was General Lukas Locus, having maneuvered through a portal pathway upon leaving the force bubble in the Jotun vessel. He wore a dark uniform with boots, a black holster on his belt and no hat, having lost it and a control slate in transit. The spider machine had given him the slate and instructions on how to reach here.

Locus climbed to feet, discovering that the portal had disappeared. He breathed rapidly, trying to gain his bearings.

Military equipment was stacked neatly all around him. As he inspected heavy flamers with tripods, someone rolled open large doors. A team of Merovingians looked in, a Junior Cadet in charge of them. The general recognized the soldier—his name was Jarod. Jarod stopped short upon sight of General Locus.

“What are you doing in here?” Jarod demanded in a bass voice.

“Inspecting the weapons,” Locus said smoothly. “They’re ready.”

“What do you mean, ‘they’re ready?’” Jarod said. “The Queen wouldn’t have ordered us to arm the platoons if they weren’t ready.”

“Good answer,” Locus said. “I’ll report that to her.”

“Meaning what?” said Jarod suspiciously.

Keep on the offensive. It’s the only way to batter his self-confidence and make him docile. “I’m the Queen’s centurion. Do you understand the significance of that?”

Huge Jarod glanced at the other Merovingians. They lacked interest in the dialogue, their brainpower likely much less than the Junior Cadet.

“Okay, Centurion,” Jarod said, “I understand. What happens next?”

“Take out the weapons, of course,” Locus said.

“No, I’m arming my team. The other Junior Cadets will arm their teams.”

“Quite right,” Locus said, thinking fast. “Continue with your assignment. I’m not supposed to interrupt your arming.”

Jarod nodded, as that must have made sense to him.

General Locus marched past the others and out of the armory, leaving the Merovingians to their task. He spied other teams waiting in the corridor, and other Merovingians hurrying to assemble with their leaders. An attack must be brewing. The Builder transporter must be ready. The spider machine might have waited too long to send him back. He needed to leave this area and regroup.

Thus, Locus marched boldly past the gathering Merovingians. Was the Queen calling up the entire regiment? If so, this was it. She would be trying to storm a dreadnought, maybe two of them. He had to get to Ludendorff and have the man beam the spider machine onto the crustal. After that—Locus grinned savagely to himself. He would pick the perfect time to assassinate Lisa Meyers. She’d dared turn him into a Merovingian, and after he’d served her so faithfully. If—

His step faltered. Ahead of him, a team of white-suited normal-sized guards with cone rifles hurried up. Was Meyers here? She might recognize him. What was the right thing to do? Locus glanced around. There was no easy place to hide. He braced his shoulders and raised his head. He would brazen it out, simply marching past her. Meyers wouldn’t think it possible to see General Locus.

There, he saw Meyers. She wore a general’s dark uniform complete with military cap. Her long hair cascaded out from under the hat. She was beautiful despite her evil. It was too bad he couldn’t capture her and find a place to have his way with her. Yes, he’d strip her naked and teach her a few lessons about loyalty. He’d have her screaming his name in pleasure—

Meyers looked his way as he advanced. He pretended not to notice but continued marching resolutely.

“No,” Meyers said. “General Locus, is that you?”

The sexual fantasies wilted in his shrinking gut. He continued to walk, not daring to let his gun hand descend to the holster. He could possibly shoot her—

“Yes, that’s General Locus,” Meyers said loudly. “Halt, General, or my men will fire.”

Locus looked directly at her. The guards glanced at her. This was a disaster. She might torture him this time. She might learn he’d planned to kill her.

Locus went for the holster, clawing at it.

“General!” Meyers shouted.

He looked up at her, and a ruby he hadn’t noticed before glowed with bewitching power. The rays of the glowing ruby struck his brain. He felt his self-control wilt. Lisa Meyers was beautiful. It was startling. He might not have realized that he stared like a struck bull, and a stupid smile stretched across his lips. He did not attempt to draw the gun in the holster, the one he clutched. Instead, he smiled at Meyers as his groin hardened with intense need, and as he released the gun.

“Do you love me, General?” Meyers purred.

“Yes,” he said thickly, and he began to walk stiff-legged toward her.

The ruby rays brightened. At another time, he might have shielded his eyes against the intensity. Now, a loopy smile spread across his face. Meyers’s features blurred into an angelic gorgeousness. It made his groin ache as the lust became overpowering. He began to run to her. He wanted her above everything. To lie with her, to—

Cone-rifle butts lifted and descended against his head, crashing against him. With thudding force, General Lukas Locus fell to the deck. He didn’t understand but tried to rise.

“Oh, my General,” Meyers said. “Can’t you stand?”

“Lisa,” he said, reaching out an imploring hand. “I love you. I want you. I’ll do anything for you, just ask.”

“How did you become Locus again, hmm?”

He frowned, as his head hurt. They cone-rifle butt-blows had bewildered him. He might have already lost consciousness, but his lust drove him on.

“The spider machine,” he whispered.

Meyers frowned severely at him. “Tell me more.”

Locus began to blink. The pain of the blows finally caught up with him. Waves of nausea filled him, and blackness swam before his eyes. He heard a roaring noise. It sounded far away. It blocked him from seeing Lisa Meyers, the angelic—he vomited onto the deck, with pain washing through his head, through his mind.

Vaguely aware that he’d miserably failed in his assignment, General Locus slumped unconscious onto the floor.

-57-

Holoimage Galyan found Riker and Keith drifting in a thick clot of dust. He immediately appeared before a strikefighter pilot and guided him to the two space-suited men.

With a control stick, the pilot used a flexible arm outside his fighter. In a minute, an inflated plastic bubble circled the two men. The strikefighter pilot began to tow the bubble toward Victory. As he did so, the fighter began to lose much of its power.

The pilot relayed that to another strikefighter farther away. By the time the first fighter had lost motive power, two other fighter craft attached lines to it. They’d each noticed a drop in power, but not enough to render them helpless.

Twenty-three minutes later, the trio of strikefighters neared Victory. So far, no other patrol boat had spotted the fighters or the starship.

That seemed odd.

Galyan received new orders and moved from one spot in the dust cloud to another, searching for patrol boats. As the strikefighters landed with their bubble cargo, Galyan reported to the captain—it appeared that the patrol boats had pulled back from this region for reasons unknown.

***

Captain Maddox brooded on his chair on the bridge. Why had the patrol boats pulled back? Did they know this was a cursed area of the dust cloud? Or was something else happening?

He needed more information. Riker had destroyed the hunk of metal embedded in the moon surface. The metal had turned out to be a machine. He hadn’t told Riker, but he’d sent the sergeant for intuitive reasons, feeling his fellow Intelligence operative would be best suited for whatever was out there. Now, Maddox was anxious to hear exactly what had happened on the asteroid-moon.

Galyan appeared before him. “They have successfully landed in the hangar bay, sir.”

Maddox stood. He tried to move calmly, but before he reached the exit, he started to run, as his intuitive sense just went off. It told him that time had become critical.

***

Maddox ordered the marines to put down chairs, a small table and food and drink for Riker. They were in the hangar bay. Other marines hustled Keith to medical for a thorough examination.

Then, Maddox listened as the sergeant relayed his experiences on the asteroid-moon. The captain asked questions, soon receiving Riker’s impressions and inner thoughts.

“Did you send me on purpose, sir?” Riker asked, as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

Maddox nodded.

“Because of some intuitive insight?” asked Riker.

“Not an insight,” Maddox said, “a premonition.”

“I see. Well, it worked as you expected.”

“I didn’t expect anything but trouble,” Maddox said. “You did well, Sergeant. I congratulate you on your resolute action.”

Riker straightened, and a wry smile appeared. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. So, what’s next?”

Maddox nodded. “That’s a good question.” He looked around. “Galyan.”

The little holoimage appeared.

“Did you hear all that?” Maddox asked.

“I did,” Galyan said. “I hope you do not mind.”

“I do mind,” Maddox said. “Your eavesdropping has to stop. But in this instance, it will save time. What are your impressions?”

“I do not understand the question,” Galyan said.

“Correlate all the data you’ve learned concerning the star system,” Maddox said.

Galyan’s eyelids began to flutter.

“How important was the machine—the one Riker destroyed—to all this?” Maddox asked.

“I have insufficient data for a conclusive analysis,” Galyan said, as his eyelid fluttering ceased.

Maddox tapped his chin, thinking. “The asteroid-moon is in the thickest part of the dust-debris cloud. The moon drains energy. One suspects the patrol-boat teams are aware of that, or that the region has had the greatest number of lethal ship accidents.”

“That is logical,” Galyan said.

“Today, patrol boats went into this region anyway, likely because of us,” Maddox said.

“Perhaps it was the partial call that did it,” Galyan said. “I am referring to the call from the patrol boat whose crew I neutralized.”

“I knew what you meant.”

“There was no repeat information because I rendered the crew inert and you brought the patrol boat aboard Victory. Now, though, two patrol boats are missing, no doubt destroyed by the headquarters team. Someone on the dreadnoughts might have decided the losses were due to the cursed region and recommended a retreat. That could explain why the other patrol boats backed out.”

Maddox nodded. That made sense, but it wasn’t conclusive.

“Someone on the dreadnoughts might have argued that the original call about an alien ship was false,” Galyan said. “If that is the case, they might no longer believe we are in the vicinity.”

“You’re suggesting we don’t have to jump elsewhere to remain hidden?” asked Maddox.

“Not for a while, at least,” Galyan said.

Maddox scowled as he peered into the hangar-bay distance. That was a big if, with terrible repercussions if Galyan was wrong and searching patrol boats found the starship.

“This has to be the weirdest place we’ve ever gone,” Riker said.

Maddox turned to the sergeant, focusing on the man. “You mean the asteroid-moon?”

“Well, that too,” Riker said. “No. I mean the star system in total. This is the craziest system we’ve ever entered. I’m guessing the craziness is due to the Yon Soths. It was their place, right? They were crazy-assed bastards, evil to the core. The system is bedlam, with evil influences coming from every angle.”

“You’ve had a trying experience, Sergeant,” Maddox said.

“I realize that, sir. But it’s more than that. I’ve had time to process what happened. The system smacks of Yon Soth…perversion, malice, chaos.”

“Your point?”

Riker shrugged. “We need to get out of here, the sooner the better.”

“We’re attempting to,” Maddox said. “Do you have any suggestions how to achieve that?”

“No…” Riker said softly. “But the asteroid-moon seems central to this place. The dust is thickest here, and I bet there is more Yon Soth garbage floating around here than anywhere else in the Lucifer region. Yet, the patrol boats don’t mine here, maybe because the energy drain makes that impossible. I’d say that means the asteroid-moon is critical to our getting out.”

“Your logic being the evidence you just stated?”

“Yup,” Riker said.

Maddox rubbed his jaw, soon shaking his head. “The evidence isn’t conclusive enough. Moloch’s relation to Lucifer and the Jotun vessels hiding deep in the thick atmosphere causes me to suspect that the gas giant is the key.”

“Then we’re screwed,” Riker said, “as we can’t go down into Lucifer to attack the Jotuns.”

“And we can’t safely land on the asteroid-moon because of the power drain,” Maddox said. “As you suggested, we’re stymied on both fronts.”

“Which means that we must continue to wait,” Galyan said.

“Wait for what exactly?” asked Maddox.

“The same as always,” Galyan said, “an appearance of Sub Bar Potential Enki.”

“I’m tired of waiting for him,” Maddox said.

“A good hunter must, at times, practice extreme patience,” Galyan said.

Maddox eyed the little holoimage, knowing Galyan was right, but not caring to hear it just now. “All right,” he said softly. “We’ll keep waiting and watching. But something better break for us soon or we’re not going to make it out.”

As Maddox spoke, he thought about the portals. Would he try for one in the end? If it were the only way he could get home, yes, that would be what he’d do. He wanted to save the others, though. It was his duty to save them, and they were his friends, his very good friends.

Sometimes, duty weighed heavily upon his heart.

-58-

Ludendorff finished fixing the Builder transporter. He was nervous about that and tried to hold his twitchiness at bay even as he relayed the news to the Guard Captain. This was his greatest threat against Meyers—that he wouldn’t fix the dread machine if she treated him ill. Would the logic continue to hold for her? Did she have other machines needing repair?

Several minutes later, the Guard Captain received a call on his shoulder comm. He put the receiver to his ear, listened and glanced once at Ludendorff and then studiously avoided looking at the Methuselah Man.

Throughout the centuries, Ludendorff had gained ever more insights into human behavior. It was one the reasons he was such… He was going to think of himself as a proficient lover. But that would be a lie. He was a great, a superlative lover, very likely the best in Human Space and perhaps the best that had ever been. It was a grand statement, but then, he was a grand and excellent man.

Ludendorff smiled at the thought. As he did, he noticed that the Guard Captain spoke to his underlings, and they also quit looking at him.

That clearly meant something ominous—Ludendorff recognized that much. Should he act on the knowledge? After all, what good was superior knowledge if a person didn’t use it? Still, it was early in the game. He hadn’t found the starship and didn’t know where else to teleport to for safety.

Ludendorff climbed down from the second-story controls of the Builder transporter and ambled to one of the white-suited guards. He made the guard notice him and then jerked a thumb at the transporter. “Did the Guard Captain tell the Queen yet that we’re all set to go?”

The guard’s eyes widened and instead of answering, he looked away sharply.

“Hey,” Ludendorff said, while jostling the guard’s elbow. “Does the Queen know the transporter is ready?”

The guard nodded without facing him.

Ludendorff’s heart skipped a beat. This was worse than he’d thought, as the guard was obviously trying to act in a way to avoid aggravating the subject—namely him. The guard was doing at lousy job of it, but that was to be expected.

Should I flee? Yes, yes. That is obviously the correct action. What did Meyers tell these louts? I need to know.

Ludendorff cleared his throat. “Say, I do have a question for your Guard Captain.”

The guard looked at him.

“Up there,” Ludendorff said, while thinking on his feet. “Could you send the Guard Captain up there so I can show him a small glitch?”

“What, a glitch?” the guard said, with fear in his eyes.

“He needs to know about it.”

“Yes,” the guard said. “I’ll tell him immediately.”

“Good,” Ludendorff said. “Before I can trust the transporter with the Queen’s soldiers, I need to run several more tests.”

The guard had tilted his head toward the shoulder comm, no doubt to relay the information. Now, he stared sharply at Ludendorff. “You said it was ready.”

“I know what I said, but it was a tad premature. I do hope the Guard Captain realizes I said that in order to please the Queen. Now, though, I’ve hit a snag. I need his advice on how to proceed.”

“Yes, yes,” the guard said nervously. “I will tell him at once.”

Ludendorff turned away and started up the ladder to the second-story operational area of the transporter. He didn’t want the guard to see him grin triumphantly. The off-the-cuff plan solidified as he scurried up. He was still as nimble as ever, a sign of his good living and exercise. He couldn’t take as much physical punishment as in his youth, but he could still maneuver just fine—and he could dish it out if he needed to.

From the upper platform, Ludendorff glanced down slyly. The guard hadn’t used the comm but had hurried to the Guard Captain and now explained to the man’s face. Oh, this was rich. The Guard Captain actually began to tremble; his hands did anyway. He hastily activated his shoulder comm and spoke into it rapidly.

Ludendorff would have liked to know what the man told the Queen. Hopefully, he’d bought himself some time with this trick. The Queen would not want to strike against him until the transporter was truly operational.

Ludendorff tapped his chin, absorbed with his dilemma: how to achieve his personal safety. The Builder transporter was ready. Perhaps it had a superior locator. Yes, yes, of course, he should have realized that right away. This was a Builder machine, much better than anything men could construct. The transporter would have fantastic sensors, needing them in order to teleport a person to a precise location. Those sensors could surely pierce the dust-debris cloud with ease and locate Victory, if the starship was still there.

Ludendorff moved to and hunched over the rangefinder and locator, and began to search—he frowned, pausing. Galyan had roamed the surface of Moloch. Didn’t Captain Maddox employ holo-extenders to increase Galyan’s range from Victory? It made logical sense they might have extended the range even farther with extra units. There would be a limit to the range extension, however. Too long a range would cause time lag to the holoimage, and that would never do.

In the past, Ludendorff had worked on the main AI holo-imaging equipment inside Victory enough to have a good idea about what it could and could not do. So, if he extended the possible range to this…

Ludendorff grew intense as he manipulated the locator or sensors. Where would Maddox likely hide the starship? Obviously, he would hide it in the dust-debris cloud, the thickest areas. Yes, with the various givens, Ludendorff began to search for transporter targets. He became so engrossed with his search, that he didn’t hear or see the Guard Captain climb up to him.

“You wanted to see me?” the thickset man said.

Ludendorff looked up sharply, perhaps guiltily, caught in his deception.

The Guard Captain must have realized that, as he drew a sidearm, aiming it at the professor. “Stop what you’re doing.”

“Of course,” Ludendorff said, recovering his poise and pulling his hands away from the panel controls. “I’m in a rush, and for a moment there, I thought you were the Queen. I thought she’d caught me in my premature announcement—given you let her know earlier that I was finished. Well, I told you I was finished, and I shouldn’t have done that. Did you pass all that on to her Majesty?”

During the explanation, the Guard Captain had narrowed his dark eyes, the gun never wavering. “You’re lying about the delay.”

“You know I’m not,” Ludendorff said with conviction. “I called you up here for a reason.”

“Well…?” the Guard Captain asked, with the first hint of doubt in his dark eyes. “What reason? Spit it out.”

“Yes.” Ludendorff cleared his throat. “Just how soon will the Queen need the transporter?”

“You could have asked Rael that.”

“No. I was hoping I could fix this in time. That’s why I needed to see you.”

With the sidearm still aimed at Ludendorff’s gut, the Guard Captain scowled thunderously. “What’s the matter with the transporter anyway?”

“Oh. Yes. The refractor is off by several points. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but it means I could accidently teleport men into ship bulkheads instead of on the deck.”

The Guard Captain leaned nearer as Ludendorff spoke, perhaps trying to understand. The refractor comment was pure nonsense. The last part should make sense, though, although it was also a made-up reason. “How…?” The Guard Captain waved the sidearm. “How long will it take to fix this refractor?”

“Two to three hours should do it.”

The Guard Captain scowled, shaking his head. “No. The Queen is in a hurry. You should already have the transporter running. This is unacceptable.”

Ludendorff pasted a fake smile onto his face. I need to get rid of this fool and find Victory. I need to teleport there now. Ah. He had an idea. “Perhaps you can help me.”

“Help how?”

“If you’ll watch that meter,” Ludendorff pointed, “you can help me match the refractor lens.”

The Guard Captain’s suspicious squint tightened as he stared at Ludendorff.

He knows I’m bullshitting him. Should I just knee him in the balls and risk—?

Abruptly, the Guard Captain holstered his sidearm. “Very well. Let’s get this done. What do you want me to do?”

“Do you see that indicator there?” Ludendorff asked, pointing at the same meter behind him.

“Yes.”

“Tell me when the indicator moves into the red.”

“You could tell that yourself easily enough by turning around to look.”

“No. I need to know the instant it happens. That’s exactly why this has been so hard to refine. It’s a two-man job.”

“What you’re saying doesn’t make sense.”

Ludendorff put his hands on his hips. “Are you the Methuselah Man, or am I?”

The Guard Captain muttered under his breath. “Yes, yes, I’ll watch the indicator, and I’ll tell you the moment it moves into the red.”

“Excellent,” Ludendorff said in a cheery tone. He turned back to the panel, tapping controls, continuing to search through the dust-debris cloud for something big enough to be Starship Victory.

-59-

General Locus groaned in agony, wishing he’d never come back to Moloch. What had he been thinking? The spider machine had been persuasive and his own hatred for Lisa Meyers intense. The other had used him and now he was paying for it.

Locus lay on a wet floor, with only a pair of briefs to hide his nakedness. Two Merovingians stood over him, one of them with a shock wand in his huge right hand. The monster-man had been working him over as Meyers watched from a throne-like chair to the side. Two white-suited guards flanked her throne.

Meyers sniffed with distaste. “I thought you were tougher than that, General. Your cries for mercy, your pleas and even sobs leave me cold with contempt for you. I gave you a place in my organization because I thought you had fiber. You used to work for Star Watch and later helped the Liss cybers hunt down Patrol stalwarts. In the end, I see that you were just a cowardly bully, a frightened man willing to hurt others so you would not have to face pain yourself.”

Locus endured her mockery, her insults. He had cried out. He had sobbed. It had been demeaning in his own eyes. He was trying for one chance to get his hands on her, for them to lower their guard because they thought he was broken in will. If he could, if it was his only chance, he would scratch her eyes out, gnaw off her nose or hammer her throat, causing her to choke to death before anyone could repair the damage. To that end, he would continue to play the part of a frightened slave. He was a soldier and could have endured much more than this. He must continue to be pathetic so Meyers would lower her guard.

“I’ve told you what I know,” Locus said, with tears dripping from his eyes.

“You’ve told me nothing,” Meyers said, hunching forward. “You’ve hinted about a secret cabal having the technology to enact a reversal of your…change.” She glanced at the two Merovingians before looking significantly at the guards.

The two regular men caught the look. They tensed, with their gun-hands on their holstered gun-butts, ready to fast-draw in case the Merovingians went berserk. Neither giant seemed so inclined, however, as each watched Locus lying on the floor.

“That’s right,” Locus said. “The secret cabal is readying to move openly against you.”

“No more lies,” Meyers said. “I want to know how you could possibly have appeared in the Number Three Armory. A portal seems like the only answer. Tell me truthfully how you got inside.”

“I will,” Locus whispered. “The truth, I want to tell you the truth. But I fear you won’t believe me.”

“I am Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. I know things that would blast your mind. Tell me your secrets, General. Otherwise, I will resort to a mind probe. You know what that will do to you, don’t you?”

Locus looked up at her from the floor. “May I stand?” he asked meekly.

“Yes, yes,” Meyers said. “Stand, and hold him, you two. Don’t let him loose or it will be your lives instead of his.”

Locus climbed shakily to his feet. The two Merovingians came forward, each of them wrapping their huge hands around one of his puny arms. The one thrust the switched-off shock rod through his belt.

Locus looked at each Merovingian. “I used to be Senior Cadet Rad Kelsey,” he told them.

“What?” said the Merovingian who’d shock-wanded him before. “You, Rad Kelsey? No! You are small and weak. Rad Kelsey is big and strong. Do not lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Locus said fast. “The Queen once turned me into one of you just as she did to each of you. Don’t you remember your old life?”

The Merovingian frowned.

“Stop that,” Meyers said. “And look at me. You must look at me, General. Do not speak to them.”

“I am Rad Kelsey,” Locus shouted to the giants. “Look closely, you can see his face in mine.”

The bigger Merovingian leaned closer to Locus, staring into his face.

Meyers stood, pointing at the offending Merovingian. “Look here at your Queen,” she said imperiously.

The Merovingian did not obey but continued to stare at Locus.

“Shoot him,” she said.

A guard drew his gun and fired repeatedly, the shots deafening within the close cell.

The targeted Merovingian released Locus, staggering back as the bullets hammered his body. He groaned in agony and tried to draw the shock wand from his belt.

The second white-suited guard drew and fired, his bullets finally knocking down the Merovingian. The huge soldier fell backward, releasing the wand so it bounced off the floor.

“They’re going to kill you next,” Locus shouted at the second Merovingian. “Kill them before they kill you.”

“No!” the standing Merovingian shouted. He released Locus, lowered his head and charged the two white-suited guards.

They hurriedly reloaded as the monster-man came on fast.

“Fool,” Meyers hissed. She revealed an armband as she shot her left arm forward, exposing the band from the covering sleeve. She tapped a button on the armband—

The frontal cranium of the charging Merovingian exploded with bone, blood and brain spraying outward. The mix rained on the guards and Queen. The huge Merovingian staggered, crashing fully upon one of the small guards. The two went down hard, the dead Merovingian twitching violently upon the shouting guard.

The other guard turned toward the Queen.

“Look out,” she shouted.

The guard whirled around. Locus hit him squarely in the face with the shock baton. It zapped loudly, and the guard collapsed, going down with a thud.

Locus grinned savagely at Meyers. “Now we’ll see,” he said in a hideous voice.

“Why didn’t your head explode?” Meyers asked calmly. “It should have exploded when I pressed the button.”

“The spider machine must have extracted the bomblet in my cranium,” Locus said. “How unfortunate for you.”

“Where did you see this spider machine?”

“One moment,” Locus said. He bent over, released the baton and took the fallen guard’s reloaded weapon, aiming it at Meyers.

She stared at him as if she didn’t care.

“What where you saying?” asked Locus with a laugh.

“Where did you see the spider machine?” Meyers asked.

Locus stepped closer and poked her belly with the gun.

Meyers flinched back.

“I saw the spider machine inside a Jotun vessel,” Locus said. “Somehow, the Builder machine had reached Lucifer.”

“Oh,” Meyers said, frowning afterward. “How did you reach the Jotun vessel?”

“Through a portal pathway, of course,” Locus said. “You do remember I fell into one.”

“Yes, the tri-portal attack, the phase bombs, of course I remember. You fell into a portal as Rad Kelsey and came back as General Locus. You actually reached the spider machine inside the Jotun vessel. That obviously wasn’t random chance, but a mentality guiding you there. I doubt the Yunus could have achieved that. Hmm… this indicates I’m right about a greater controlling entity behind the Ardazirhos. It has finally revealed itself by this action.”

Locus prodded her again with the gun barrel.

This time, Meyers did not flinch. “Tell me about Ludendorff. Were you two working together before the portal bomb attack?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Locus said, for a third time poking her in the belly with the gun barrel.

Meyers sighed. “Are you truly that dense, my General?”

A moment of fear swam in Locus’s eyes. Despite the stupidity of such a premature move, he pulled the trigger as he continued aiming at her, and nothing happened.

“No,” he said.

“Yes,” Meyers said, reaching out, touching one of his arms.

A violent shock erupted, blowing him backward and rendering General Lukas Locus unconscious.

“Really,” Meyers said, as she looked down at him. “You’re a fool to think me defenseless.” She took in the other dead and unconscious, and shrugged a moment later. This was messier and costlier than she’d expected, but now she knew the truth, and she had a good idea that Rad Kelsey and Ludendorff had really been working together before. As soon as the Methuselah Man repaired the transporter, she would kill the treacherous and dangerous swindler, and then she would build a fleet of dreadnoughts by capturing them one by one. After that, she might possibly unleash Iris upon Central-Control. The mastermind she’d long sought to find had finally betrayed his hand. That was very, very interesting indeed.

-60-

Using the locator on the second-story platform of the Builder transporter, it took Ludendorff far longer to find anything that might be Victory than he’d expected. When he finally did locate a possibility, the Guard Captain’s shoulder-comm unit beeped.

Ludendorff looked up, wondering if that was a coincidence or not.

“Are you alone?” Meyers asked through the comm.

The Guard Captain stared at Ludendorff. “Uh… No, my Queen.”

Ludendorff kept his features impassive, but his heart started racing.

There was a pause from the comm before Meyers asked, “Did Ludendorff hear that?”

Instead of answering, the Guard Captain reached for his holstered weapon.

Fortunately for Ludendorff, he was already expecting something, and he proved faster than his opponent, as the Guard Captain was not Maddox but an ordinary man, although trained to an expert level. In any case, Ludendorff came at the man more smoothly than he ever could have done against Maddox. The Guard Captain clutched the butt of his gun but must have realized he didn’t have time to clear it from the holster. He released the gun and brought up his fists. Ludendorff slapped at the fists for distraction as he used his left foot to sweep the man’s feet out from under him. As the Guard Captain went down, Ludendorff backed up and then kicked him in the head with a steel-toed boot, doing it hard enough to daze the man. The second and third kicks rendered the Guard Captain unconscious.

Breathing heavily, realizing he was incinerating bridges, Ludendorff knelt, drew the man’s gun and took the shoulder-comm unit for good measure.

By that time, the three scientists nearby fled as a group, perhaps deciding discretion truly was the better part of valor.

“Hello, Meyers,” Ludendorff said into the shoulder microphone. He set the gun on the locator panel as he pressed a series of keys, zeroing in the possible object. He had to get the hell off of Moloch pronto.

“Put my Guard Captain on,” Meyers said.

“I’d like to but I can’t, as he’s sleeping on the job.”

“Did you attack him?”

What was this? Ludendorff learned toward the screen, tapping faster. This looked good.

“Did you attack him?” Meyers repeated.

“Don’t you think that’s a stupid question?”

There was a pause, then, “Is the transporter working yet?”

“I can’t believe it. There’s another stupid question. That’s two in a row. Do you want to make it three?”

Meyers did not answer.

“Of course, the transporter is working,” Ludendorff said, “but I can change its operational status in an instant. Now, what did you want again?”

“Professor—”

“Excuse me,” Ludendorff said, cutting her off as he began to set the transporter for teleportation. This was his ticket, and none too soon. Feeling giddy with delight, he decided to really taunt the bitch. “I’m not sure I like your tone, oh Queen. No, I take that back. I know I don’t like it.”

“You screw with me at your peril, old man.”

Ludendorff’s eyes shined with delight and much relief. It was time to leave this madhouse. What was Meyers saying to him? Oh, yes.

“Hey, guess what?” Ludendorff said with a new lilt. “That’s the wrong approach with me. Good-bye, Methuselah Woman, and good luck with your—”

“Wait!” she cried.

Something about the way she yelled that—Ludendorff quit adjusting the controls and crouched low, scanning the chamber and then the doors. He’d found Victory and could teleport there. The trouble was that he hadn’t rigged the transporter to work for him after he was gone. It thus dawned on him that if he teleported there Meyers would own the machine. She could send goons or an antimatter device after him. If he dismantled the transporter, he wouldn’t be able to get away. It was a quandary indeed. Perhaps it had been premature to flame-scorch his bridges with her.

He cleared his throat. “You were saying?” he said into the shoulder comm.

“I need the transporter.”

Ludendorff couldn’t help laughing. “And I like breathing.”

“No! We can work together.”

“Really? How can I possibly trust you now?”

There was a pause, before she said, “I give you my word not to harm you.”

“Sorry. But you and I both know that’s not good enough. I need something more.”

“Professor, listen to me. I’ve finally found the means for what I truly want. And that’s far more important to me than killing your sorry ass. In fact, I may need your help with it.”

Ludendorff cocked his head. This was an interesting development. “And what do you want exactly? What have you found that’s so vital?”

There was silence on the other end.

She’s toying with you. Don’t forget that she’s cleverer than she appears. Ludendorff nodded. “Okay then. It was nice knowing you, Meyers—”

“I captured General Locus,” she said, speaking fast, interrupting him.

Ludendorff frowned. How was that even possible?

“I’m telling you the truth,” Meyers said earnestly.

Ludendorff became thoughtful. Was this an elaborate trick? Why would she think her saying that—oh. She must think he already knew about Locus. Yet, Ludendorff couldn’t see how Rad could have survived the portal phase-bombing, let alone turning back into Locus and getting back here. Could the Central-Control Ardazirhos have engineered all that?

Meyers sighed. “Don’t play dumb with me, Professor. I know you’ve been waiting for Locus’s reappearance.”

“Screw Locus,” Ludendorff said with sudden heat.

Meyers laughed. “You’re coldhearted enough to double-cross your ally, but what about our Glorious One, eh?”

Ludendorff frowned more severely. What was she talking about now? Had Locus found the Glorious Kent and the Builder held there in stasis?

“You’re awfully silent all of a sudden,” Meyers said.

Ludendorff looked up at the ceiling. What did Meyers know? He needed to find out. But how could he get her to say too much? He needed to say something in order to convince her he knew what she was talking about even though he didn’t.

“The transporter is critical,” Ludendorff said, “but not for the reasons you’ve been telling me.”

“Oh, but I do want to capture the dreadnoughts. That part is true.”

“What about the Jotuns?” Ludendorff said, hoping he’d guessed right. The Jotun vessels surely held the Glorious Kent and the stasis-held Builder.

There was silence until Meyers said with heat, “Damn you, Ludendorff. You really were working with General Locus. I don’t know how you engineered that stunt with the portals sucking Rad Kelsey into one, but that was all carefully planned.”

“Of course,” Ludendorff said. Was she nuts? How could he have planned that?

“I don’t know how you pulled that off or how you taught Rad to negotiate the portal pathways,” Meyers said, “but I must admit it was a brilliant fake on your part.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Ludendorff said as he shrugged. It was time to see how far he could take her mistaken views about him.

“There’s one thing I’d really like to know before we continue,” Meyers said. “Where did you first meet the spider machine?”

“The—” Ludendorff snapped his mouth shut. A spider machine? That sounded like a Builder potential unit. He’d read about them long ago on the Library Planet, back in his youth when he’d climbed up a library pylon. He’d never even told Strand about that. If Meyers knew about spider machines and potential units…

“If we’re going to make a deal,” Meyers said, “we’re going to have to work together on this.”

This is crazy, Ludendorff realized, as he shook his head. What would Jotuns have to do with a spider machine? The Jotuns surely held the Glorious Kent and the stasis-held Builder. Was Meyers trying to trick him? As Ludendorff asked himself the question, he knew the answer. Yes, she was simply playing for time. He wasn’t spinning her along; she was doing it to him.

He shoved the Guard Captain’s gun into his waistband and dared to stand up. Then, he started to set the controls for the transporter panel for the final time.

“Professor,” Meyers said through the shoulder-comm unit. “One of my snipers can see you. What are you doing?”

“If you fire,” Ludendorff said, as he hunched his shoulders, “I’ll cause the transporter to self-destruct.”

Two seconds passed before she said, “That’s a bluff. I know you. You want to live forever. If you destroy the transporter, I’ll kill you for sure.”

He needed a few more seconds. “You’re wrong about me,” he said toward his shoulder. “The transporter is already set to detonate. I’m taking that off-line so we can use it by working together.”

“If you don’t immediately stop what you’re doing,” Meyers said, “I’ll order the snipers to fire. I’m giving you five seconds to comply.”

Damnit! As Ludendorff’s guts coiled, his fingers flitted faster than the best typist, he pressed a button, and then ran like a madman. He leapt over the platform edge into space.

Shots rang out. One of the bullets blasted a section of panel. Somewhere, a woman screamed for the shooters to cease firing.

Ludendorff panicked as he fell, twisting in the air, trying to curl into a ball. The teleport pad rushed up—it was seven meters down from the control platform, over twenty-two feet. He was going to land wrong. He thrust out an arm, struck the pad and heard his right forearm bone snap. Agony zagged up his arm and caused nausea to sweep through him.

“Ludendorff,” Meyers said from the shoulder comm.

Ludendorff squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to think past the pain. He was panting. The gun he’d been holding had skittered far away out of sight. He opened his eyes. If this didn’t work, Meyers was going to make him pay in dreadful ways.

Boots thudded as soldiers rushed into the chamber.

“Hurry,” Ludendorff whispered, willing the transporter to do its thing. Why was this taking so long? Had he done something wrong?

“I don’t see him,” a man shouted.

There was more running, boots thudding. Someone climbed a ladder, and a head appeared over the lip of the transporter pad.

Ludendorff and the white-suited guard stared at each other. The man had a scar over his left eye. He grinned. He had stained teeth.

A humming sound began.

“Stop what you’re doing,” the guard said gruffly.

“Help me,” Ludendorff said. “My arm is broken.”

The guard climbed higher, stepping onto the T-pad.

With the humming sounds, golden swirls now rushed around Ludendorff and part of the guard. The guard froze, staring at the phenomenon happening to him.

A woman screamed, “No! Stop him!”

The world—the T-pad and its surroundings—disappeared for Ludendorff. That part was good. The bad was increased nausea and a feeling of being disembodied. There was also the sense of movement, traveling, and suddenly more noises assaulted him.

Ludendorff found himself above a deck, and fell three more meters, hitting with a grunt and then a scream as his broken bone ends ground together. At the same time, a bloody torn leg and arm fell near him as more blood showered.

A woman screamed, but she had a different timbre than before.

Ludendorff rolled onto his back, hyperventilating. He concentrated. His mind was blank. I am Professor Ludendorff. I have succeeded in step one. I must be aboard Victory. That means— “Galyan,” he shouted in a hoarse voice. “Galyan, can you hear me?”

A little Adok holoimage appeared as if from the very air. “Is that you, Professor?”

“Yes,” Ludendorff whispered. Why did he feel so sick? It didn’t matter. He needed to concentrate on the important thing. What was that again? Oh, yes. “Get Captain Maddox. Tell him we’re in terrible danger.”

“How so?” asked Galyan. “And where did the bloody leg and arm come from?”

Ludendorff used his great intellect to concentrate past the pain. “Lisa Meyers has a Builder transporter on Moloch. I just used it to teleport here. Those bloody pieces belonged to a guard. Now listen. Meyers has the settings and might teleport an antimatter bomb onto the ship if you don’t immediately move it.”

“Oh, dear, Professor,” Galyan said. “Now, you have truly gone and done it.”

“Shut up about that, you holographic freak. Give the captain my message before it’s too late.”

Galyan disappeared.

Ludendorff closed his eyes, hoping he’d made the correct move in coming here.

-61-

A little later in a torture chamber on the forty-kilometer crustal on Moloch, Meyers spoke to a naked, sweaty, pain-streaked General Locus.

“Professor Ludendorff fled, leaving you in the lurch.”

Locus lay panting on a board, with hot bright lights shining in his eyes. His limbs were shackled to the board and electrodes were attached to various areas of his body, including his privates. So far, the Methuselah Woman had only lightly tortured him. Locus had no doubt that would soon change and the real pain and maiming would begin.

They were alone in the chamber, with Meyers presently striding back and forth before him, her black boots clicking on the floor. She wore a cape with her tight black outfit, adding to the dominatrix image. She’d leered at him several times as he’d writhed in pain, leaving him in no doubt she would torment him until his will cracked or until he was a physically broken wreck.

“If you expected to help Ludendorff,” Meyers said, “know that he had no thoughts about helping you.”

“Ludendorff doesn’t know I’m back,” Locus said.

Meyers paused, raising her left arm to show him the armband with buttons. “One touch,” she said, “and you’ll writhe in agony once more.”

“Don’t you know that torture is a highly unreliable way of extracting information?”

Meyers raised an eyebrow. “Are you seeking to teach me, my General? Perhaps it is time I taught you more earnestly. So far, I have been kind to you—at least compared to what is coming.”

He couldn’t control a shudder. He hated this. Why not get it over with already? “Look,” he said. “I tried to kill you. I failed. That is my one disappointment. Knowing that Ludendorff evaded your clutches and that it enrages you gives me joy.”

Meyers sneered. “If you’re thinking I’ll scream in rage and kill you in an outburst of emotion, you’re quite wrong. Instead, I’m already planning how to prolong your agony. I’ll keep you alive for years, do you hear, years?”

This time, Locus shivered with dread. Meyers might well fulfill her threat. It was never wise to think she spoke with hyperbole.

“You may yet survive our encounter,” Meyers said. “More, you might even thrive.”

Locus raised his head, staring at her. She didn’t laugh at him, but seemed earnest, truthful. No. He would be a fool to believe her, a damned fool.

“I see your doubts,” Meyers said. “So, consider this: you will not survive as General Locus but as Rad Kelsey. I changed you into a Merovingian once. Why not again, eh? I could use another soldier.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said, still staring at her.

Her nostrils flared. “I swear it. You might not have as great intelligence as before, but you’ll be alive. Think well upon that.”

Locus lowered his head. The last part made her promise seem real. He didn’t trust her—how could he? But he dearly wanted to believe. He didn’t want to die screaming his lungs out, writhing for her amusement. If he were Rad Kelsey, even a dumber one, might he not find a way to come back again as the General? Even as Locus considered it, he knew she was lying to him. But the hope of it swayed him, as he needed it to be true and thus was willing to lie to himself for a chance at life. What would she want to hear? Ah, he had an idea.

“The spider machine can become a Builder,” Locus said. “The machine didn’t tell me all, but he told me enough. He needs the Builder transporter, however, to accomplish his goals.”

“Why the transporter?” Meyers said, staring at him intently.

“Because he’s trapped inside a Jotun vessel,” Locus said. “He thought to trust the Jotuns, but they’ve changed into vile creatures. They’ve become tools for the departed Yon Soths.”

“You’re making this up.”

“No,” Locus said with a strange laugh. “The Yon Soths—the spider machine told me this is a perverted realm. The barrier helps to make it so. If Lucifer didn’t hold the Temple of Life—”

“What did you say?” Meyers hissed, interrupting him.

Locus raised his head.

Meyers’ eyes bulged as if she’d finally lost her last shreds of sanity. That did not last. She looked away, muttering to herself. When she looked at him again, her eyes no longer bulged. Instead, an evil intensity had taken hold of her features. The skin had become oily and shiny in the hot overhead lights. Meyers seemed possessed, capable of any evil.

Locus lowered his head, as he didn’t want to look at her. She’d become more frightening than ever.

Did she realize that? Maybe. Meyers approached the board, staring down at him, running a forefinger across his sweaty chest.

Locus swallowed uneasily.

“Temple of Life?” Meyers said.

“I don’t know what it is,” Locus said hastily. “The spider machine only called it that once.”

“Tell me more.”

Locus licked dry lips. “The way he said it, I got the feeling he would change into a Builder there.”

“The machine can become a Builder?”

“Yes. That part I know.”

“How can you know?”

“He told me so,” Locus said.

Meyers turned away, with her head hunched. “The Temple of Life,” she whispered. “I’ve heard rumors, legends, but I never knew it existed. I thought it was a metaphor. But if the Temple is real, if it’s here… That makes sense then why the wolves—or the mastermind running Central-Control—are so interested.” Meyers turned back to him, with her eyes shining.

Locus closed his eyes, hating the look of lust on her face.

“General,” Meyers purred.

He opened his eyes.

“You have a chance for life,” she said, staring down at him. “I mean as General Lukas Locus. I can free you. If this is true, if the Builder can show me the Temple—it may be a way to restore the Glorious One held by the Jotuns. With the transporter, I can surely free my Builder held in stasis aboard the Glorious Kent. That would give me two Builders and the great and mighty Temple of legend. With the transporter, I could teleport antimatter bombs aboard the Jotun vessels.” Meyers laughed with delight.

Locus shuddered. “Don’t you mean to kill every human in existence? Isn’t that your great goal?”

Meyers stared at him, soon shrugging. “Live while you can, General, for tomorrow you’ll die. Everything is meaningless, chasing after the wind.”

“What?” he whispered.

Madness shined in her eyes. “What is life? What is its real purpose? Is it to rut and produce more and more crying spratlings? No. I have found the higher purpose. It is to bring back the greatest life-form the universe has ever thrown up. Chance raised the Builders to prominence and chance—chaos—cast them back down. The universe is random and meaningless. Two atoms crash together and bounce away. Elsewhere, two smashing atoms join and begin the process of creation, of living beings. With enough time, anything is possible.”

Locus stared at her, bewildered.

“Do you not understand?” Meyers asked. “We have become greater than the universe. How is that, you ask? It is simple. Can the universe conceive of itself? Is the universe self-aware? No, the universe is inert matter, nonliving stuff. Yet, in an amazing act of random creation, life emerged from the chaos. Some of that life gained intelligence and self-awareness. That life could think about the universe, but the universe could never think about it.”

“Is such a thing possible?” Locus asked.

Meyers’s shining eyes narrowed.

“I mean, doesn’t everything need a cause greater than itself?” Locus said. “How can a lesser thing create a greater thing? Or said another way, how can nonliving matter produce living beings?”

“Are you suggesting there’s a Creator?” Meyers asked in a haughty, sneering tone.

Locus blinked several times in confusion. This seemed like a crazy conversation to be having while hooked to a torture board. Yet, logically, if he shook a container of sand, and did it for a million years, it would still just be sand inside. If he heated the container enough, the sand might fuse into glass, a simple chemical reaction. But the sand would never become something else or turn into something living. Wasn’t that self-evident? Yet, to suggest such a thing to Meyers…

“Humanity is greater than the universe,” Meyers said. “But the Builders are greater still. I will not allow such greatness to vanish. No, I will become like unto a goddess, causing the greatest race to reemerge because that is the noblest thing to do.”

“Yes,” Locus said. “I understand.”

Meyers grinned. “I know you’re attempting to trick me. But such small things no longer matter in light of the Temple and the Builders. It is time to help the Builder trapped in the Jotun vessel and the spider machine of which you speak. Afterward, we can deal with Ludendorff and Captain Maddox, given they continue to skulk about in the dust-debris cloud. After that, we’ll deal with the treacherous wolves of Central-Control.”

Meyers drew a collar from a pocket and put it around his neck. “There is a packet in the collar. If you stray too far from me or if my life functions cease, the packet will detonate. The detonation will detach your head from its shoulders. If you attempt to cut the collar, the packet will detonate. Are you clear on this?”

“Perfectly, my Queen.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, let’s use the transporter and change the fate of the universe.”

-62-

Captain Maddox had given the order. Victory was in a different location from when Ludendorff had first teleported aboard.

“This new spot won’t matter,” Ludendorff said. He’d just come from medical, where they’d set his broken arm and given him stimulants, at his request. He stood beside the captain’s chair, having hurried here. He now looked around the bridge before looking again at Maddox. “It feels good to be back.”

“It’s good to have you aboard,” Maddox said. In truth, he had mixed feelings about Ludendorff being here, for he’d been blaming the Methuselah Man for some time—in his heart—for his predicament of being gone from home. Still, there was no need to tell Ludendorff that. If Ludendorff could help them get home, who was he to argue?

“I have a suggestion,” Galyan said.

“About?” asked Maddox.

“Defending ourselves from the Builder transporter,” Galyan said.

“Let’s hear it,” Maddox said.

“We should interpose the asteroid-moon between us and Moloch,” Galyan said. “Perhaps its energy drain will affect a teleportation beam.”

“What nonsense,” Ludendorff said. “Don’t you understand the principle behind teleportation?”

“Of course, I do,” Galyan said. “I think you do not understand the powers of the asteroid-moon.”

“Bah!” Ludendorff said.

Maddox tapped his chin as he stared at Galyan. “That’s an interesting suggestion. Lieutenant,” he told Keith, who had returned ten minutes ago from medical. “Take us behind the asteroid-moon relative to Moloch.”

“Yes, sir,” said a subdued Keith.

“I’m telling you that isn’t going to help us at all,” Ludendorff said.

“What do you suggest then?” Maddox asked.

“We must storm the crustal and take control of the transporter,” Ludendorff said. “Anything else means we’re dead.”

“That sounds good, the taking over part,” Maddox said. “So how do we storm a place that has defended itself against a large fleet of dreadnoughts for years?”

Ludendorff chewed on his lower lip. “This is bad, very bad. Meyers controls the transporter. I told her about using antimatter bombs, teleporting them onto the ship.”

“Our ship?” asked Maddox.

“No, no, of course not,” Ludendorff said, “the dreadnoughts.”

“Why should she do that?”

“Meyers has a regiment of Merovingians,” Ludendorff said. “She plans to teleport them onto each dreadnought in turn until she controls the entire fleet. I suggested the threat of bombing them might prove easier, first providing an example of a destroyed ship, of course.”

Maddox scowled as he stared at the main screen. “Maybe we should make a deal with the dreadnought commanders. Together, we could figure out a way to storm the moon.”

“No, no,” Ludendorff said. “The moment the dreadnoughts—or us—pose a threat to Meyers, she can use the transporter to put antimatter bombs into our guts. Boom. No more Starship Victory and no more dreadnoughts. That’s the last thing we should be doing.”

“I must say, Professor,” Galyan said. “I am surprised you did not develop a means of using the transporter from a distance. That would have solved everything.”

Ludendorff whirled around angrily. “That was my plan, you holographic baboon. Unfortunately, Meyers must have gotten wind of the idea and struck sooner than I was ready.”

“What is your backup plan?” Galyan asked.

“This,” Ludendorff said, as he stamped a foot on the deck. “I ran here, to you. You’re supposed to be smart. Why don’t you give us a master plan? Why do I always have to do the hard work?”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered until he looked up. “Captain, perhaps you can maneuver Victory near Moloch. Once in range, I shall appear near the Methuselah Woman and zap her with a killing discharge.”

“Wouldn’t work,” Ludendorff said. “She would antimatter us before the starship got close enough.”

“That is better than doing nothing,” Galyan said. “At least we would go down swinging.”

“No, you fool, dying is dying. Captain,” Ludendorff said, “surely you have an idea.”

Maddox frowned as he looked up at Ludendorff. “Remember, sir, you’re on my bridge.”

It took a second before Ludendorff threw his one good hand into the air. “That’s it? You’re going to threaten me for forgetting your blasted bridge protocols?”

“He is just saying,” Galyan said.

Ludendorff glanced from Maddox to the holoimage and back to Maddox. “Do you think this is a joke?”

“Watch your tone, Professor,” Maddox warned.

“This is unbelievable,” Ludendorff said. “I’m in a madhouse.”

“Galyan is right in one particular,” Maddox said. “We must attempt something. It sounds as if a few of the portal pathways reach the main crustal.” Ludendorff had told them about Rad Kelsey and Meyers saying that General Locus had arrived back from wherever Rad had gone.

“Unfortunately,” Ludendorff said, “I lack a portal tablet.”

“Are there any other places you know where portals open?” Maddox asked.

“Forget about the portals,” Ludendorff said in a huff. “They’re a random factor. The Ardazirhos control them, or mainly so. We can’t use them, not reasonably. I have no idea how Rad or the General managed what they did.”

“We could potentially contact the Jotuns and offer them a deal,” Galyan said.

Ludendorff shook his head. “First things first. We have to disable Meyers’s ability to destroy us at a whim. Until we do that, we’re in danger of immediate destruction.”

Maddox nodded. The professor was right about that.

From the helm, Keith swiveled around to stare at them. “Sir, are you forgetting about the fold-fighter?”

“Not in the least,” Maddox said. “It’s on the asteroid-moon.”

“Exactly,” Keith said. “If we can figure out how to retrieve it, we can use the fold-fighter to pop onto the crustal.”

“Wait,” Ludendorff said eagerly. “Aren’t there two fold-fighters on Victory?”

“Normally, yes,” Keith said. “This time, the second one needed an overhaul. We were in a hurry to leave Earth and it never reported back for duty, and a replacement wasn’t ever sent in its place.”

“That’s just great,” Ludendorff said. “What else don’t we have?”

“How can we retrieve the fold-fighter from the asteroid-moon?” Maddox asked Keith.

The ace shrugged. “I figured one of you would have a way.”

“All right,” Ludendorff said, as he put his hands on his hips. “Tell me about this asteroid-moon. What happened out there? Why did you have to leave the fold-fighter?”

Maddox gave Ludendorff a terse and quick account of what happened.

Galyan added the information about the ouroboros symbol he’d found earlier and what it indicated.

“Interesting, interesting,” Ludendorff said. “Yes. Some things are starting to jell for me. I wonder what General Locus discovered?”

“Rad Kelsey and General Locus are the same person?” asked Galyan.

“I already explained all that,” Ludendorff said. “Rad left via a portal and General Locus returned, presumably the same way. Where did he go in the interim?”

“How do you think Rad Kelsey turned back into General Locus?” Galyan asked.

“Yes, that’s a good point,” Ludendorff said. “I hadn’t considered that part. Clearly, he went somewhere where someone did it for him.”

Maddox snapped his fingers. “If anyone could do it, it must have been Potential Enki.”

“Wait, what?” Ludendorff asked in awe. “Did you say Enki?”

“I did,” Maddox said. “Do you recognize the name?”

Ludendorff gave a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Enki is one of the most famous of the Builders. And as you surely must realize, Enki is the name for a Sumerian god. Sumer was an ancient civilization on Earth, congruent to the ancient Egyptians.”

“What?” Maddox said, as he gave Galyan an accusatory look. The AI should have known and explained all that to them already.

Ludendorff sighed. “Listen. I’ll give you a quick rundown.”

-63-

“Forget about it,” Maddox said. “I’m not interested in a rundown of ancient myths. What I want to know is if Enki will help or hurt us.”

Ludendorff stared at the captain, slowly saying, “Enki created humanity. I’m talking about the Sumerian creation myth. He made people of clay. Enlil his half-brother, another of the main Sumerian gods, got tired of their endless noise, the constant chatter from people. So, Enlil sent a flood to wipe out mankind. Enki gave warning, and one of the clay men built an ark to save all life.”

“The story of Noah and the world-wide Flood,” Galyan said.

“Exactly,” Ludendorff said, “but told from the more garbled Sumerian point of view.”

“Garbled?” asked Galyan.

Ludendorff waved that aside as he stared at Maddox. “My point for telling you that—and it’s an important one—is to show you that Enki is pro-human. He’s on our side.”

Maddox eyed the Methuselah Man, disliking the ignoring of his order, wondering if Ludendorff needed a good slap in the face as a reminder. Maddox tapped his right-hand armrest, considering options. Perhaps at this juncture, given the gravity of the situation, he should ignore the disobedience. They might well need Ludendorff’s enthusiastic cooperation. Throwing him a bone, as it were, letting him get away with something, might help create a better working relationship.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that the Builder Enki has correlations with the mythic Sumerian Enki,” Maddox said.

“I should think that obvious,” Ludendorff said.

Once more, Maddox tapped the right-hand armrest. Just a small slap across the face, not enough to whip the head about, but give it some stinging marks. Maddox sighed, resigning himself to physical restraint.

“No quick stories about the Builder Enki then?” Maddox said blandly.

“Just that he’s pro-human,” Ludendorff said. “I’ve spoken with him, by the way.”

“The spider machine?” Maddox asked.

“No. With the real or original Enki,” Ludendorff said. “That was long ago, though. I’m supposing he must be dead, given that the potential unit has activated. I believe there’s protocol regarding such activation.”

“You’ve heard of potential units?”

“Not heard but read. You remember the tale I told you several years ago about sneaking into a library room on the Library Planet?”

“The tale about you climbing a pylon in your youth?” Maddox asked.

“The same,” Ludendorff said. “The potential units have DNA from the original. As we’ve learned, as well, the Builders are cybernetic entities. In some manner, the potential unit carries memories from the original. Perhaps different DNA strings store the memories.”

“If that’s true,” Maddox said, “the potential unit wouldn’t have all of the original’s memories.”

“Correct,” Ludendorff said.

“So…the spider machine carries DNA so it can clone the original?” asked Maddox.

“Not exactly how we would do it—if we possessed such technology. Remember what I said. Builders are cybernetic entities, part machine, or cyborgs if that’s easier for you. I imagine the original deposits its memories in a storage facility or maybe directly to the potential unit.”

“So…Potential Enki could have memories hundreds of years out of date.”

“I wouldn’t think that long, but essentially your idea is correct.”

“And the original Builder Enki was pro-human?” Maddox said.

Ludendorff nodded.

“Then, why did he treat me so shabbily, taking over my body and forcing me to do his bidding?”

“The shabby treatment is a matter of opinion,” Ludendorff said. “You’re alive, aren’t you? You now have your old personality and are none the worse for wear.”

“As you say, that’s a matter of opinion.”

“Either way,” Ludendorff said, “you’re one person. To Enki—the original or the potential unit—that wouldn’t be half as important as saving the human race.”

“You make him sound altruistic,” Maddox said. “Did you know he tried to bribe Galyan with reanimation in Adok flesh?”

“Say that again,” Ludendorff said quietly.

“Tell him,” Maddox told Galyan.

Galyan related the incident. As he did, Ludendorff began to grin like a maniac, nodding and beginning to chuckle.

“Now what’s wrong?” asked Maddox.

“Don’t you see?” Ludendorff said. “No, I imagine you can’t. You don’t understand the Builders as I do. How could you? With this last fact, I know what must be in the star system. I know what makes it so important.” He looked expectantly at the others.

“Any time you feel like telling us,” Maddox said, trying to keep his irritation at bay. The professor loved an audience and loved knowing what everyone else wished to hear, and then waiting in order to build up suspense.

“The Temple of Life,” Ludendorff said, as if it was obvious to the least dullard. “I’ve heard legends about it, a sacred Builder shrine with the secrets of immortality. In such a shrine or temple are cloning generators and chrono initiators.”

“Is the last a reference to time?” Galyan asked.

Ludendorff pointed at the holoimage, snapping his fingers as he did. “I believe the chrono initiators accelerate growth at an exponential rate. Perhaps the Temple holds Adok DNA, and that was how he could make his offer in good faith.”

“Potential Enki could really have done what he said?” Galyan asked.

“Oh, I would think so,” Ludendorff said. “Does the prospect still interest you then?”

“The price,” Galyan said. “I would have had to sacrifice everyone aboard Victory. The price was too high.”

“I doubt he would have held you to that,” Ludendorff said.

“Professor,” Maddox said. “Where is this Temple of Life?”

“I’m guessing somewhere in the star system,” Ludendorff said.

“Lucifer,” Galyan said. “The Temple of Life must reside somewhere on or inside the gas giant. That fits with the ouroboros symbol and the idea of rebirth or reincarnation. This is not the transference of the soul, but a remaking of an individual with his original DNA and many of his stored memories. It would be as close to reincarnation as is possible with material tools.”

“An interesting point,” Ludendorff said. “Yet, if the Temple is somewhere in or on Lucifer, do you think the Jotuns are its guardians?”

“I doubt that,” Maddox said. “I suspect it’s more probable that the Jotuns found out about the Temple and wish to use it or plunder it for its technology. Frankly, I think the more interesting question is why would Builders establish such a Temple in a Yon Soth system?”

“Ah…” Ludendorff said. “Yes. I think you’ve unknowingly hit close to the mark, Captain. The Builders would never have done such a thing. The Yon Soths, or a single one of them, must have purloined the Temple and hidden it here. The idea that it is inside Lucifer makes more sense given a Yon Soth stole it. Perhaps the Yon Soths even attempted to use the Temple for their own perverted ends. I’m sure the Temple had its own fail-safes, though. Perhaps that is the reason for all the destruction. Perhaps that’s why no Yon Soths reside here.”

“Why?” asked Galyan.

“They killed themselves while tampering with the Temple of Life,” Ludendorff said.

“Why are the Jotun vessels down there?” Galyan asked.

“I’m thinking the captain is right about them,” Ludendorff said. “Just as Potential Enki wishes to use the Temple, so do the Jotuns. Perhaps the Jotuns desire to recreate their lost race. It may be that those two Jotun ships represent the last of an otherwise extinct species.” Ludendorff snapped his fingers, pointing at Maddox. “We can begin to guess when the Yon Soths died, or we have a beginning date from which to start.”

“When the last Earth colonists arrived in the system,” Maddox said.

“Exactly,” Ludendorff said, “the sixteenth century.”

“How does knowing that help us in any way?” Galyan said.

“Information, you curious ghost,” said Ludendorff. “It gives us more information. Eventually, we’ll have enough to know exactly what to do.”

“We’ll all be dead at this rate,” Keith said from the helm.

Maddox turned his chair to regard the ace. “Yes, I agree.” He swiveled back to Ludendorff. “The elements are in place. It’s possible the alien wolves in Central-Control know some of these facts. The key to all this is the Temple of Life.”

“Maybe instead of the key, it’s the prize,” Ludendorff said.

“Either way,” Maddox said. “What I want to know is how any of this helps us get home.”

Ludendorff cocked his head, and then shook it.

“I know how,” Galyan said. “We must help Potential Enki become Enki and then work with his legendary love of humanity. That means we must capture the Builder transporter as the professor has suggested. Consider what has occurred. Rad Kelsey the Merovingian fell into a portal, survived the phase bomb and returned to Moloch as his old self, General Locus. What happened to cause such a thing? Someone turned Rad back into Locus. Would the wolves have done that? I think not. Would the Jotuns?”

“Potential Enki must have done it,” Maddox said.

“That is my belief as well,” Galyan said.

“Where is Potential Enki then?” Ludendorff asked.

“Somewhere we might reach through the portals,” Galyan said.

“That could be anywhere,” Ludendorff said.

“Lucifer,” Maddox said, with his eyes bright. “Isn’t that where Potential Enki headed when he left us?”

“If Potential Enki sent Rad Kelsey back as the General, would he not have done that as an act of desperation?” Galyan said.

“What’s your evidence for saying that?” Ludendorff asked.

“If Potential Enki had reached the Temple of Life,” Galyan said, “he would have become Enki. Surely, then, he would not need anyone’s help. That indicates he is still Potential Enki, the spider machine.”

“I see where you’re headed with this,” Maddox said. “You think the Jotuns captured him.”

“I had not reasoned that far yet,” Galyan said. “But it seems the likeliest explanation.”

“So, you think a portal reaches to the Jotun vessels?” Maddox asked.

“Why not?” Galyan said.

“No…” Maddox said. “I doubt even the spider machine could exist inside a deep-pressure Jotun vessel.”

“The vessels are said to possess force bubbles,” Ludendorff said. “The force bubbles could hold a normal atmosphere.”

Maddox stared at Ludendorff. “I know why Potential Enki sent General Locus back to Moloch.”

“Is this your new intuitive sense at work?” Galyan asked.

Maddox shook his head. “It’s just plain logic. The spider machine needs the Builder transporter as was said earlier. Maybe he needs it in order to reach the Temple of Life.”

“Then we’re back to square one,” Ludendorff said. “We need the transporter.”

“We’ve been wasting time with all this jawing,” Keith said from the helm. “It’s always been about the transporter. When the professor teleported here, he gave away the—”

“I gave away nothing!” Ludendorff shouted at Keith. “I would have liked to see you do better.”

“Calm down,” Maddox told Ludendorff. “Getting angry isn’t going to help us.”

“He just hates admitting he made a mistake,” Keith said.

“Lieutenant Maker,” Maddox said sternly, before Ludendorff could comment. “That will be quite enough. Do I make myself clear?”

Keith paused as if thinking about it, nodded and turned back to the helm.

Maddox opened his mouth to reprimand the ace, to have Keith give a verbal answer. Then, he decided to let it drop. Besides, Keith was right. Ludendorff had made an error. The reason Ludendorff was so angry about it was that he knew it too.

“We need to refocus,” Maddox said. “We have to figure out how to get the fold-fighter off the asteroid-moon and get it operational as fast as possible. Then, we’ll fold directly to the crustal and gain control of the transporter.”

“Meyers has a regiment of Merovingians down there,” Ludendorff said. “Gaining control of the transporter won’t be easy even with the fold-fighter.”

“We’ll deal with the Merovingians when it’s time,” Maddox said. “First, we have to get our fold-fighter back.”

Ludendorff nodded, and he glared at Keith. “It’s too bad your braggart pilot left it there in the first place. If he’d known better, he wouldn’t have left behind the one ship that can solve all our problems.”

Keith looked back at Ludendorff, glanced at Maddox and turned back around without saying a word.

-64-

General Locus stood on the second story platform of the Builder transporter. Two white-suited guards watched him, making the place crowded, as Lisa Meyers and the three scientists huddled by the control panel. There were also two Merovingians up here with them, the two most trusted in the regiment.

Locus tried to eavesdrop on the scientific discussion by the three. When Meyers noticed, she motioned for the guards to pull him back.

They did.

Locus touched the collar around his throat and shuddered. He still felt weak and disoriented by the tortures. He wore a general’s brown uniform and military cap. He did not have a belt, however, and kept pulling at his pants to keep them up. He knew Meyers had ordered them to give him pants several sizes too large. It was a petty trick, but it was effective in the sense that he had to keep his hands on the waistband or have the pants fall down around his ankles.

Meyers was absorbed with the science talk, listening and watching as the three scientists showed her how to use the transporter. It was lengthy and seemingly tedious, as Meyers scowled at one or the other every few minutes.

Locus had told her about the force bubble, how the Jotuns kept the spider machine in it. At this point, he would help the Methuselah Woman the best he could. Maybe she wouldn’t double-cross him later. Despite her angry appearance, she was excited and eager to bring the spider machine through. Would the thing help her?

Locus was guessing so. What would the Jotuns do if their prisoner escaped through arcane means? Was Meyers ready for a countermove by the aliens waiting deep inside Lucifer? And was Meyers worried about the Central-Control Ardazirhos interfering again? The wolves were clever, had deeply hidden motives and had been active throughout all this. He knew Meyers suspected the wolves of bringing new players into the Crowder System, Maddox in particular. How the Ardazirhos had managed that, no one knew exactly. Meyers yearned to learn the location of Central-Control. Once upon a time, his training had been to attack them, his unit’s task to take over the portal junction or nerve center that Meyers believed was Central-Control.

“It’s time,” Meyers said. “Let’s begin.”

“My Queen,” Locus said. “I’ve just thought of something.”

Meyers regarded him carefully. “Bring him near.”

The two guards did.

“What is it, General? What’s your warning?”

“My Queen, have you considered the reaction of the Jotuns if you grab their special prisoner?”

Meyers frowned. Clearly, she had not. “The Jotuns didn’t seem to care about you leaving their ship.”

“True,” Locus said. “But I suspect they’ll act differently with the spider machine.”

“Do you think they’ll conclude someone used teleportation to whisk the machine away?”

Locus shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“And even if the Jotuns did conclude that,” Meyers said. “What would make them suspect us on Moloch? They’d more likely suspect the Ardazirhos, if they knew about them.”

“Perhaps the Jotuns have advanced devices of their own that would pinpoint the origin of a transporter beam,” Locus said.

Meyers shook her head. “We can’t waver because of possibilities. In the end, one must try. There is an ancient Earth proverb about that: He who dares wins.”

“I know another. Don’t pull the ears of a sleeping dog.”

Meyers peered into his eyes. “If this is your pathetic attempt to sabotage my—”

“My Queen,” Locus said, going to one knee while interrupting her. “This isn’t sabotage. I had the thought, and I relayed it to you. If you feel—”

“Enough,” Meyers said, interrupting him as she made a shooing motion. “I’ve heard enough. Pull him back.”

“My Queen,” he said, “there is another problem.”

Meyers scowled. “Very well. What?”

“The Central-Control Ardazirhos might use this moment to attack.”

“I’ve thought of that.”

“If Iris can lead the assault upon Central-Control, now would be a propitious moment.”

Meyers studied him. “You wish your freedom, eh? You think I’ll trust you with such an assault?”

“You’ve finally discovered the location of Central-Control?” As soon as Locus asked the question, he regretted it.

“That was ill advised,” Meyers hissed.

Locus understood why. They had come to believe the wolves had the means of eavesdropping on conversations. He knew Iris’s task while on Moloch was to continuously monitor the nearest portal pathways for emanations that would lead to Central-Control. To let that drop…if the wolves should understand…

“I’ll deal with you later,” Meyers said. “Move him away.”

The guards moved Locus back to the edge of the second-story platform.

Locus looked around, trying to fathom how the Ardazirhos could do all they had. The portals were super-technology and the wolves themselves seemed too dull to achieve the many feats they had. Meyers had suspected a mastermind who used the wolves. Was she right? What did the secret enemy want with the Crowder System? Did it also have to do with the Temple of Life?

Locus silently berated himself for losing focus on the present. He resumed watching as Meyers spoke with the three scientists. One of them explained quietly. Another stared at the floor. The third watched the speaker.

“Yes,” Meyers said. “Begin.”

The quietly speaking scientist flexed his long fingers. He was a tall, lean man in a white lab coat and had gaunt features and wisps of brown hair. Perhaps he was the cleverest of the three. He moved to the control panel. The other two flanked him. Meyers stood directly behind the first. He looked back and shifted to one side, presumably so she could see what he did.

The tall scientist manipulated the panel with tentative taps and many pauses, and with many searching stares at the panel screen. Abruptly, he stepped back.

“What is it?” Meyers said loudly.

The tall scientist turned to her. Locus finally remembered the man’s name. It was Senior Jax Delong “My Queen, I’m afraid the professor forgot to mention certain sequences to us. The actual teleportation is more delicate than I’d realized.”

“Speak plainly,” Meyers said. “What do you fear?”

“It’s possible we might teleport alien atmosphere back to us. If we bring too much of it across, the poisonous atmosphere could slay us.”

“The answer is clear,” Meyers said. “Don’t bring such atmosphere across.”

Senior Jax bobbed his long head. “I agree, my Queen. That is best. Unfortunately, none of us truly knows how to use the transporter.”

“A minute ago, you claimed you did.”

“Yes,” Jax said, as sweat appeared on his tall forehead. “Yes. However, if I could have a little more time to experiment—”

“Listen to me,” Meyers said interrupting. “You shall do your experimenting here, now. You’ll teleport nearby items in order to familiarize yourself with the controls.”

“That is an excellent idea, O Queen,” Jax said with a grimace attempting to form a smile. “However, I-I fear for your safety. Perhaps if you would care to withdraw to a safer location…”

Meyers squinted at him. “Is this fear, or are you planning similar treachery to what Ludendorff exhibited?”

“No, no, never that,” Jax said, shaking his head emphatically.

“Then experiment now,” Meyers said. “Do not attempt any foolish teleportations, however. Then you must find the spider machine—”

“My Queen,” Jax said, interrupting. “Th-There is another…quandary. The professor didn’t set up the screen for precise symbology. He used a bizarre matrix—”

“What are you saying?” Meyers demanded.

Senior Jax pointed at the screen. “I don’t know what all the symbols represent. Some of this doesn’t make sense.”

Meyers stepped near the screen, staring at it. She nodded finally, turning to Jax. “We will experiment here, on the crustal as I said. You will teleport various objects and then people onto the pad. During that, the three of you will take notes, gaining proficiency as to what represents what. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly,” Jax said, as he dabbed his forehead with a lab-coat sleeve.

“I’m feeling ill,” the quietest of the three said. “I need to lie down for a bit.”

“You,” Meyers said, pointing at a Merovingian.

The giant shuffled to her.

“Squeeze his head,” Meyers said, pointing at the scientist who wanted to lie down.

“My Queen,” the indicated scientist protested.

The giant moved swiftly, putting his huge hands around the scientist’s head. The giant began to squeeze.

The scientist screamed with agony, flailing ineffectively.

“Stop,” Meyers told the giant.

The Merovingian obeyed, keeping his hands in place, but no longer squeezing.

Tears leaked from the hurt scientist’s eyes. “My Queen, please—”

“Tell me now,” she said sternly. “Are you able to work, or do you still need to lie down?”

“I feel much better,” he said, as snot bubbled in his nostrils.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, please,” he said, using a sleeve to wipe his nose, “I’d love to go back to work.”

“Leave him,” Meyers said, waving the Merovingian away.

The giant went back to his former post, a stupid grin on his face as he continued to watch the scientist.

“You must begin,” Meyers said. “I will watch as you experiment, and I will give you exactly one hour. By the end of that time, we will hunt for the spider machine. In other words, gentlemen, combine your intellects and duplicate the professor’s feat. Or…” Meyers glanced meaningfully at the watching Merovingian.

“We hear and obey,” Jax said. He looked at his colleagues and hesitatingly put his fingers onto the panel controls. “First,” he said to them, “I suggest we teleport an object, one we can all see…”

-65-

In the end, the process for retrieving the fold-fighter proved simple, although the implementation of the simplicity was harder than anticipated. The process was a combination of suggestions from Maddox, Keith and Valerie.

First—the implementation—was figuring out at what distance the asteroid-moon began its serious power draining. The team gained this by sending out strikefighters, with monitors analyzing the draining exactly. Once this was determined, Maddox ordered a shuttle into position.

Before the shuttle could leave the hangar bay, Professor Ludendorff and Andros Crank, with a team of technicians, built and lengthened needed items and machines. Valerie Noonan requested the honor of piloting the shuttle and retrieving the fold-fighter.

Maddox granted it.

Keith had asked as well.

“No,” Maddox said. “I want you to recuperate fully, as you’ll be piloting us to Moloch.”

“Makes sense,” Keith said in an unusually subdued voice.

Thus, once given the go-word, Valerie piloted the shuttle from the hangar bay and soon approached the asteroid-moon. She didn’t see the moon, as the dust-debris was too thick for that. As she approached the selected point, something struck her as wrong.

Pressing the comm switch, she called Victory. “Sir,” she told Maddox. “The magnet will likely lose its charge once it reaches the moon and thus will fail to pull the tin can.”

“Right,” Maddox said. “We should have already foreseen that. Well…I don’t know what else—”

“Sir,” Valerie said, interrupting. “I do have an alternative idea.”

“By all means,” Maddox said. “Let’s hear it.”

“We can use a harpoon.”

“Fire the harpoon through the hull?” asked Maddox.

“Yes, sir, as it’s the only way we can be sure of securing the vessel. We can make an emergency hull repair later, once the fighter is back on Victory.”

“An excellent suggestion, Lieutenant Commander. Proceed. And by the way, if you have any other problems, fix them on the spot if you’re able. I trust your judgment.”

“Yes, sir,” Valerie said, grinning, appreciating the compliment.

She thus gave new orders to her tech crew. They hurried back into the main cargo bay. Working quickly, they detached the magnet and rigged a harpoon with an explosive device.

“No,” Valerie said, who had gone back to watch their progress. “What if the power drain steals the explosive of its charge? Use an old-fashioned grapnel harpoon.”

“We don’t have one,” the prime tech said, a gaunt man with black fingernails.

“Then rig one on the double,” Valerie said.

The techs glanced at each other.

“Right,” the prime said. “We’ll get on it and tell you when it’s ready.”

Valerie watched for several minutes more, before going back to the control cabin.

Soon enough, the prime relayed that all was ready.

“Get set,” Valerie said over the comm. “And remember, we need this to work sooner. I want you men ready in your worksuits for any quick fixes.”

Those were special spacesuits, practically mini-spaceships with thruster packs and welder- and waldo-arms.

Using the latest calculations, Valerie parked as close to the moon as she dared, which was ten thousand, five hundred and fifteen meters. A power drain had already begun, but a slow one. Provided they did this quickly, the drain would not matter to the mission.

“Opening the cargo-bay hatch,” Valerie said.

The shuttle had maneuvered so the two large cargo hatches opened in the direction of the asteroid-moon. Inside the cargo bay was a large engine with a huge wheel, a steel cable wrapped around it like a garden hose.

In the control cabin, Valerie couldn’t see the asteroid-moon directly, as there was too much dust and debris in the way. She used a special mass meter and spectrograph. It was a crude way to tell the shape and composition of the fold-fighter compared to the background rock. Valerie tapped controls, which caused side jets to fire. Bit by bit, she maneuvered the shuttle into an exact position. Once ready, she tapped her comm.

“I’m firing in twenty seconds,” she said. “Is the cargo bay clear for operation?”

“Clear,” the prime tech said.

Valerie watched the countdown clock. “Three, two, one—firing,” she said, pressing a button.

The engine in the cargo bay used magnetic force to launch the harpoon with great velocity. Behind the harpoon, the attached cable unwound from the wheel as the harpoon sped at the asteroid-moon. It many ways, the harpoon and cable were like a space-fishing line, with the fold-fighter as the fish.

The process took time as the harpoon disappeared in the dust-debris haze. Finally, a light on Valerie’s board indicated contact. She pressed a switch, and the engine reversed. The wheel turned and the long steel cable started to withdraw from the asteroid-moon.

After several minutes, Valerie received word that she wasn’t towing their prize. She wasn’t towing anything.

Muttering under her breath, Valerie continued to wheel in the cable for another try. After a few adjustments, she fired the harpoon again.

Once again, however, the harpoon failed to hit the fold-fighter.

That meant it was taking longer than they’d anticipated. With too many misses, the power drain from the asteroid-moon would start to seriously affect the shuttle and thus the mission.

Valerie called in the second failure to Victory. “The dust and debris must be causing my harpoon to deflect just enough and miss the target.”

“Yes,” Galyan replied over the comm. “That makes sense. You will have to adjust for the space junk.”

“How can I adjust for such random factors?” Valerie asked. “At this point, with all the junk in the way, we have to get lucky. Otherwise, this isn’t going to work.”

“It must,” Maddox said over the comm.

Valerie laughed bleakly. “Life doesn’t work like that, sir. We need a solution to the problem, not just wishful thinking.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Excuse me,” Valerie said, as another light on the board began to blink. “My prime is calling.” She pressed a button. “Yes, prime.”

“You know,” her prime tech said. “Every complex machine has its own identity, its own personality. I’ve been analyzing ours. I can’t tell you why it’s doing it, but the harpoon is listing to the left at its travels. What the harpoon needs is an old-fashioned gyroscope to stabilize it. I don’t think the power drain will harm its rotation fast enough to hurt it. I’m already rigging the gyroscope and will use an analog computer to help.”

“You think the combination will work?” Valerie asked.

“Given how our machine is acting, I do.”

“Get to it,” Valerie said. “Oh. The captain is calling again.” She clicked a different comm switch. “Sir,” she said.

“I have an idea how to do this,” Maddox said from Victory. “Close your eyes, Lieutenant Commander.”

“What for?” asked Valerie. “I’ve found a possible solution to the problem.”

“You’re closing your eyes to indicate reverence,” Maddox said.

Valerie groaned inwardly. Was the captain going to try one of his new mystical approaches to this? The prime tech already had an answer.

“Are your eyes closed?” Maddox asked.

“Yes,” Valerie lied, deciding to humor him.

“Really?” Maddox asked. “My intuitive sense says your eyes are still open.”

“All right, all right,” Valerie said, closing her eyes. “They’re closed.”

“Yes,” Maddox said over the comm, “I believe they are.” He cleared his voice. “Dear God, we’re in a fix. And…Lord, I miss my wife and baby girl. I really miss them. I want to get back to them, get back home. Can you help us, please, to harpoon the fold-fighter? I…I appreciate your help, O God. Uh…Captain Maddox and his crew asking. Amen.”

Valerie waited. The captain couldn’t be serious about this, could he?

“I’m done,” Maddox said. “Give it another try.”

“I’m waiting on my prime tech, sir. He’s adding a gyroscope to the harpoon to help keep it on target.”

“That was a faster answer to prayer than I expected.”

“Uh, if the harpoon hits, are you’re going to think God did it or the gyroscope?”

“Probably both,” Maddox said.

“What if it’s just the gyroscope that did it?”

“That’s fine,” Maddox said. “And what if it’s just God helping us by guiding the prime?”

“Sir…” Valerie said. “Never mind. I’m getting a signal.”

“Good luck,” Maddox said.

The green comm light clicked off on Valerie’s board. She stared at it for a second longer and then shrugged. Maybe something more was out there, as Maddox had begun to believe. Some aliens figured the same thing. Maybe there was nothing extra out there, though. Who knew in the end? But…what did it hurt to ask God…if he existed? She didn’t know.

Soon enough, Valerie aligned the harpoon and line, and hesitated before pressing the switch. “Forget it,” she muttered. “If it hits…it hits. The new gyroscope will be the key.”

Her finger hovered over the switch. If the harpoon didn’t hit, they might spend the rest of their short lives over two hundred thousand light-years from Earth. There was too much debris out here to really expect the harpoon to hit the fold-fighter.

Valerie cleared her throat and stabbed the firing button. From the cargo bay, the engine fired the new and improved harpoon, with the trailing steel cable behind it.

As Valerie waited, she thought about a saying she’d heard once. “There are no atheists in a foxhole.” Was that really true? She doubted it. Why then did most humans have a propensity to ask a higher supernatural power for aid in times of great stress? Even a man like Maddox did this. Did New Men ask such things, or had that part of them been engineered out of their brain?

Valerie cocked her head. Why did people have such strange thoughts at odd times like this?

A light flicked on her panel. She pressed a switch.

The comm came on, “Lieutenant Commander,” the prime tech said. “There’s a problem?”

“What is it?”

“The reel-in has started, but nothing is happening. I take that back. There’s increasing stress to the cable. What should I do?”

“Is it a problem with the engine?” she asked.

“No…I think the harpoon is latched onto something that isn’t giving.”

Valerie swallowed hard. Her dad used to fish when she was a little girl, or he’d talked about fishing in his youth.

“Listen,” she said, “power down and then up, doing that in sequence.”

“Uh…”

“We’re jiggling the line.”

“Got it,” the prime said a moment later.

Seconds passed. More seconds passed—

The comm lit up again.

“The cable is coiling slower than before,” the prime said. “We have something. Given the rate…it could be the fold-fighter.”

Valerie instinctively looked up at the ceiling. She grimaced then, shaking her head. Then she pursed her lips, becoming thoughtful. Finally, she clicked the comm. “Good work with the gyroscope, prime. You did magnificently.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I wasn’t sure it would work. We got lucky with it.”

“No. You worked smart. You can bet your gyroscope idea will be the key part of my report.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant Commander, I really appreciate that.”

Ten minutes later, Valerie saw a tin-can-shaped vehicle floating directly toward the shuttle. She laughed. The prime and she had done it. They had the fold-fighter. The idea had worked. Now, maybe, they had a real chance of taking over the Builder transporter.

-66-

The trouble with the fold-fighter was that every system was out, drained, including some mechanical systems.

“It’s going to take work to make this thing operational again,” Andros told the captain.

They were in the hangar bay with the landed fold-fighter on its side. Some techs had just removed the giant harpoon from the breached hull. That was going to need repairing too.

“Chief,” Maddox told Andros. “I don’t care what isn’t working on it. Fix it. Do it triple time, but get the tin can operational as fast as you can.”

“Sir…” Andros must have seen the fire in the captain’s eyes. “I request more help, sir.”

“You have it,” Maddox said. “Is there anything else you need?”

“That should do it, sir.”

Maddox clapped Andros on his pudgy shoulder. “Get it done, Chief. I’m counting on you.”

Andros nodded.

Maddox hurried away. The fold-fighter was just one part of this. He began to run down the corridor, reaching the professor’s old laboratory hatch. He opened it and went through.

The professor and Galyan were inside, working on a huge diagram.

“What’s that?” Maddox asked.

“I’m trying to pinpoint the precise location of the transporter chamber,” Ludendorff said. “I suggest you start taking long-range scans or shots of the forty-kilometer crustal and its various buildings.”

“That will mean our closer approach to Moloch,” Galyan said. “I suspect, however, that Lisa Meyers has her moon on high alert.” Galyan looked pointedly at the professor. “Who controls the moon? I mean politically.”

“I have no idea,” Ludendorff said. “Meyers seems to control her crustal, but I don’t know about the entire moon.”

“Sir,” Galyan said. “I have begun to wonder if we are approaching this the wrong way. Surely, Meyers is not the political authority on Moloch. She must be an important guest at most. Perhaps if you employed some of your customary diplomacy on the Moloch authorities, their police force would capture Meyers for us.”

“Didn’t you listen to the professor earlier?” Maddox asked. “Meyers has a regiment of Merovingians, and her guard force to boot. No one is marching onto her crustal and taking her out, not without a stiff battle. No. We must make a surgical strike as only we can, gain control of the transporter and use it to get the spider machine.”

“Does not the spider machine need to reach the Temple of Life in order achieve…rebirth?” Galyan asked.

Maddox looked up at the ceiling before regarding Galyan again. “This is a long shot, nothing more. We need a Builder miracle to get us out of the star system. That means reaching Potential Enki.”

“You did not trust him before,” Galyan said. “Is blind hope the only thing that is causing you to trust him now?”

“Enki, the word Enki and what it means,” Maddox said.

“But sir—” Galyan said.

“Enough,” Maddox said. “We don’t have any more time for side issues.”

“You’re right about that,” Ludendorff said. “Now, Captain, let Galyan and me work this end of the mission. If you could get me those space shots, I’d appreciate it.”

Maddox stared at Ludendorff. Then he turned sharply, heading out. He could feel that he was tired. This was definitely the wrong time to rest on protocol with the professor.

Halfway back to the bridge, Maddox slowed as a sudden pang struck his heart. “Meta,” he whispered, “Jewel. I love you both, and I’m coming home. You can bank on it.”

With fierce purpose beating in his heart, Maddox broke into a sprint. He needed snapshots of the forty-kilometer crustal. He needed those snapshots in order to raise their odds of success. This was a crazy star system, but it had the needed ingredients, he hoped, to solve their dilemma.

***

Victory maneuvered away from the vicinity of the asteroid-moon, picking up velocity as it headed inward toward Moloch.

Maddox sat in the captain’s chair, watching the main screen. Keith wasn’t at piloting but rested in his bed. Andros was not at the science station but worked on the fold-fighter in the hangar bay. In their places were other members of the crew.

Valerie was at the comm station. She wore headphones, her head tilted in such a way that indicated she listened to someone. She now took off the headphones.

“Sir,” Valerie said. “This is confirmation of an earlier report. Crowder patrol boats are definitely pulling out of the dust-debris cloud. They’ve received orders from the various dreadnoughts. In fact, it appears to be a full-scale emergency withdrawal.”

“Anyone know why they’re doing that?” Maddox asked.

“I have an idea,” Galyan said.

Maddox nodded for the AI to give it.

“I suspect the dreadnoughts or the patrol boards have sensed greater activity in several areas,” Galyan said. “That would include from Lucifer, Moloch and deeper in the debris cloud.”

“What kind activity from Moloch?” Maddox asked.

“I suspect the dreadnoughts have sensors that can detect teleportation beams.”

Maddox raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about Ludendorff’s teleportation escape to us?”

“I am, sir.”

“What kind activity on Lucifer?”

“Why, the teleportation beam,” Galyan said.

“You think Meyers is grabbing the spider machine?”

“That is my inference, yes, sir.”

Maddox slapped one of the armrests. “It’s too soon for them to start. We need more time.”

“We may have run out of time,” Galyan said.

Maddox hunched his head, with his chin resting against his upper chest. He closed his eyes. A second later, they snapped open as he raised his head. “Increase our velocity to Moloch,” he told the pilot.

“Yes, sir,” Keith’s replacement said.

“Sir, is that wise?” asked Galyan.

Maddox glared at the holoimage. Thoughts about Meta and Jewel kept sapping his concentration. He needed to get a handle on that, to fully compartmentalize his emotions.

“I am sorry, sir. I do not mean to question your orders.”

“Fine, fine,” Maddox said.

“But if we move faster through the cloud,” Galyan said, “we will increase the probability that someone will detect us.”

“Not the patrol boats,” Maddox said.

“Logical,” Galyan said. “The Moloch surface defense points surely will, though.”

“We’re not near enough yet,” Maddox said. “How long until we are in visual range of the moon?” he asked the navigator.

“At this rate of increase,” the navigator said, staring at her screen, “forty-three minutes, sir.”

Maddox shook his head. “No. We may have already run out of time.” He looked away and then turned back. “Prepare for a short-range star-drive jump. Galyan, pick a range where you believe we’ll be able to zoom in on the surface with visual detection but far enough to evade the longest-range detectors.”

Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “I have the approximate range, sir.”

“Relay it to the navigator. Navigator, set the course and tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am assuming you want to go in hot, sir,” Galyan said.

“Not that close,” Maddox said.

“I must correct the range then,” Galyan said.

“Do it.”

“It is done, sir.”

“You know the drill,” Maddox said.

Galyan floated to the navigator, giving her the data.

A few seconds later, the pilot said, “We’re all set to jump, sir.”

Maddox gripped the ends of his armrests. “Alert the crew we’re going to jump,” he told Valerie. “Once you’re done, let the pilot know.”

Soon, Valerie spoke to the pilot.

The pilot set his controls. Then, he turned to Maddox. “We’re ready to jump, sir.”

“All right,” Maddox said. “Punch it.”

-67-

On the molten lava sea of Moloch, on the forty-kilometer crustal and in a large building, the three scientists stood at the transporter panel on the second-story level.

Meyers was on the platform, but near the edge so she could observe the teleportation pad. Three Merovingians stood near her with high-powered rifles aimed at the pad. One Merovingian lay crumpled down there on the pad, his head crushed.

He’d jumped a few moments ago to fight a bizarre creature that had materialized. Instead of fighting, the creature had exploded, killing the Merovingian and stunning those on the higher control platform.

Senior Jax Delong had declared the creature to be a Jotun. Like a deep-dwelling sea-monster on Earth, the rapid yanking of it to a much lower pressure area had proven too much for its body, causing it to explode.

Senior Jax had acted swiftly at the controls, teleporting most of the exploded alien gunk and atmosphere away into space before it could seriously harm anyone else.

That had been the third attempt at teleporting a creature or object out of a Jotun vessel drifting inside Lucifer’s thick atmosphere.

“We now have a definite fix on the vessel,” Jax said, as he stared at the screen. “I am presently roving through the ship interior, searching for force bubbles.”

From the edge of the platform, Meyers looked back at Jax. “Do you foresee any more danger of bringing over exploding Jotuns?”

“Now that I know their genotype,” Jax said, “I will not transport another to us.”

“What about the spider machine?” Meyers said. “Do you know its genotype?”

“I am working off various assumptions,” Jax said. “That will be the best I can do under the circumstances, my Queen.”

Meyers’s eyes narrowed. Did she sense a hint of technical arrogance in Jax’s voice? These precision-types often had inflated views of themselves. As Senior Jax could best work the transporter, he might think himself indispensable and thus safe from her rages. She would therefore remember every slight thrown her way and repay him triple when the time came.

“General Locus,” she called.

Locus hurried to her, with the two guards trailing him.

“Keep your eyes there,” Meyers said, pointing at the T-pad. “Tell me if you see anything, especially the spider machine.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Locus said solemnly.

Meyers grinned at him. He sounded suitably subservient. A stint of torture usually had that salutary effect on a man.

There was a ping of sound from her shoulder comm. She wriggled a small implant into her left ear. “Yes?”

“My Queen,” a man said into her ear. “We have detected unusual activity in the area used by Crowder patrol boats.”

“Yes?” Meyers said a second time.

“The patrol boats have all pulled out of the dust-debris cloud back to their dreadnoughts. The dreadnoughts have also begun to maneuver.”

“Toward us?” asked Meyers.

“Not directly,” the man said. “By the indications, they are moving toward the gas giant.”

“Do you know why?”

“How could I?” the man said, sounding incredulous she’d asked.

Meyers scowled. She would boil him in oil for a time…No. She didn’t directly control his conduct. He was part of the Greater Moloch Net, of which she was just a junior member. This was a courtesy call at most.

The man cleared his throat. “Protocol forces me to ask this. Have you done anything to tamper with the status quo regarding the dreadnoughts?”

“Why…no,” Meyers said. “It’s odd you should ask.”

“That is incorrect,” the man said. “Net operators are detecting bizarre readings from your crustal. We have heard word of an experimental machine in your care.”

“You’ve sent spies against me?”

There was a pause. “That sounds like an accusation.”

Meyers closed her eyes as she silently berated herself. She was so close to her great goal. She needed to contain herself. A few soft words should fix this.

“My apologies,” Meyers said with a chuckle in her voice, as she opened her eyes. “We’re experimenting with a portal device. Perhaps that’s what your Net operators are picking up. As you know, the portals are a great interest of mine.”

“I see. You do not mind then if a Net observation team pays you a visit?”

“Not in the least,” Meyers said. “When can I have the pleasure of expecting them?”

“They’re already on their way,” the man said.

“Oh wonderful,” Meyers said. “Thank you for the courtesy call.”

“Your quick cooperation is noted. The team should arrive in ten minutes.”

“Could you make that twenty? I do hate for them to see a mess.”

There was another pause.

Meyers fidgeted with her fingers. She happened to glance at Locus and noticed his look of surprise. He quickly made his features blank.

“Yes,” the man said in her ear. “Twenty minutes. Please show them the utmost respect.”

“You may count on it,” Meyers said, seething at this indignity. Who had betrayed her? She would find the person and make them scream in agony for ages. On that, she vowed.

Removing the earbud, Meyers became thoughtful. Everything seemed to be happening at once. Had the dreadnought commanders found spies or traitors on Moloch as well? Could those traitors be here on the crustal? Or was this yet another example of Ardazirho brilliance, or the mastermind she believed used the wolves? Was it time to launch Iris and her team against what might be Central-Control? No, no, she needed to concentrate on the immediate problem, the key one. The transporter was the ticket to her great goal.

Meyers clicked the shoulder comm, patching through to her command team. “Ready the regiment. Capture and strip anyone invading our crustal, and that includes Moloch Net people. You mustn’t allow the Net team any communication with the outside.”

“I understand,” the commander said.

Meyers clicked off the comm and turned to Locus, motioning him nearer. “You used to be my best commander. Do you have any suggestions?”

Locus stared for a moment, maybe gathering his thoughts.

“Oh,” Meyers said, “you didn’t hear what the Net operator told me.” She relayed the news.

Locus nodded. He’d always been a quick study. “I assume we’re using the transporter to grab the spider machine in the next few minutes.”

It was Meyers turn to stare at him.

“If you are grabbing the spider machine,” Locus said, “I would find another place to go with your prize. By that I mean somewhere other than Moloch.”

“What if I said we were going to use the portals to leave the star system?”

“I would ask you about the Temple of Life,” Locus said, “if you or the spider machine still needs to use it. I’m guessing both of you do.”

Meyers turned and shouted at Senior Jax. “There can be no more delay. Bring the spider machine through to us at once.”

Jax’s face lost color, his lower lip quivered and he turned back to the controls, beginning to manipulate.

-68-

Starship Victory used its star-drive jump, leaving its place in the back dust-debris cloud to appear five million kilometers from Moloch. There was much less dust and debris here, but there was some.

Maddox raised his head from the captain’s chair. As usual, he was the first to shrug off jump lag. He forced himself to stand and then walked about. As he did, the others on the bridge began to come out of jump lag.

Valerie soon activated her comm board. She reported unusual silence. “I can’t find one patrol boat. They’ve all left the cloud. That’s likely bad for us, as those on Moloch will surely sense anything we do, as we’re the only ones out here. In fact, I suspect they’ll soon spot us on their sensors, if they haven’t already.”

Maddox had come to the same conclusion. “Science,” he said. “Have you started mapping the forty-kilometer crustal?”

“I’ve just located it, sir,” a woman said as she manipulated her board. “I’m starting zoom pictures…now.”

Maddox sat back in the chair, pressing an intra-ship comm button. “Professor Ludendorff.”

“Here, my boy. You jumped, eh?”

“We’ve begun mapping the crustal. Is there anything specific we should look for?”

“Yes.” Ludendorff told them several things.

“Thank you,” Maddox said, as he swiveled his chair. “Sensors, have you detected anything?”

“A powerful scan, sir,” the woman said. “It’s directed at us from Moloch. They’re going to know something is here. They might even know it’s a Star Watch battleship.”

“Or something similar to a battleship,” Maddox muttered. “Shields up,” he told weapons. “We might as well start preparing for a fight.”

Galyan appeared on the bridge. “The professor suggested I ask that you immediately transfer all telescopic images to his laboratory.”

Maddox nodded, giving the necessary orders.

“Would you like me to go down and look around the crustal?” Galyan asked.

“That’s a good idea,” Maddox said. “Go now. No, wait. First, ask the professor if there’s anything you should know that might help in the search. Then scout out the place, making the survey as detailed as you can in as short a time as you can.”

Galyan nodded and disappeared.

***

A little over five minutes later, Galyan disappeared from the professor’s laboratory and reappeared on the forty-kilometer crustal. He used ghost mode and sped toward a large dormitory, flashing against it and bouncing off from the walls. He remembered that from last time, but he wanted to make sure that restriction was still in effect.

Galyan looked around. Then, he headed for a trio of large vehicles heading for the same dormitory. The vehicles didn’t have cannons but did have caterpillar treads. He went into one and found nothing interesting but armed soldiers. He went into another and found a large woman in a military uniform indicating she was the leader.

Galyan realized he might gain egress inside the building and look around if the vehicles went into the place through an open garage door. Would it be better to speak to the woman first or wait to use the first moment he could flash through into the building?

He decided on the latter, floating out of the vehicle and riding in ghost mode on top. He saw an opening ahead.

In an instant, he raced for the interior to map before the opening shut and cut off his holoimage beam link.

***

“Here, sir,” Galyan said, as his holoimage eyes brightened. He was on the bridge, and he showed Maddox and Ludendorff an image of the transporter chamber, complete with three scientists working the controls. Meyers was on the edge of the second-story platform, with General Locus beside her. There were three big Merovingians with heavy rifles and some guards.

“Amazing,” Ludendorff said. “I didn’t think those three yokels would figure out the transporter that fast. Senior Jax is the brains among them. He should die first.”

“Continue showing us the layout, Galyan,” Maddox said.

The little holoimage showed them what he’d discovered in his two minutes and thirty-three seconds inside the building.

“Who were the military people in the vehicles?” Maddox asked Ludendorff. “Their uniforms didn’t have any of the customary marks that Meyers’s people usually wear.”

“I have no idea,” Ludendorff said. “Although I agree they weren’t her people. I think we know enough about the layout to make a fold-fighter raid, though.”

Maddox nodded. “We’re waiting for word from Andros. He said it will take another hour for repairs to finish.”

“No,” Ludendorff said. “We have to go before that. We should be leaving now.”

Maddox scratched his cheek, thinking and then nodding. “Lieutenant Commander,” he said.

Valerie swiveled around to face him.

“You have the bridge,” Maddox said. “Run the starship as you see fit.”

Valerie stood. “Yes, sir.”

Maddox also stood, looked around and exhaled. If the fold raid failed, it would be time to use a portal. He grimaced, shaking his head. No! He wasn’t leaving anyone behind. The raid had to work. He couldn’t be of two minds about this.

Meta. Jewel. He closed his eyes, working to keep the pain off his face. This was his starship. These were his people. I’m bringing everyone home. I’m doing this. He forced himself to forget about his wife and baby girl, at least for the moment. He tried but he couldn’t. If this failed—

His eyes flashed open. He saw Galyan looking at him. “Is there a problem?”

“No, sir,” Galyan said.

“Spit it out.”

“Sir…” Galyan let his voice trail away.

“Right,” Maddox said. “Professor, are you ready?”

“I am,” Ludendorff said. “Are you?”

Maddox curled his fingers into fists. Two hundred thousand light-years, they were two— “It’s time, gentlemen. Keep up with me if you can.” With that, Maddox moved toward the exit.

-69-

As a keen military commander, General Locus understood bedlam when he witnessed it. Meyers must finally have realized the Moloch Net observation team had come expecting trouble. That meant the Greater Moloch Net was prepared to act, and they had. In fact, someone must have a grudge against Meyers.

The Methuselah Woman shouted as white-suited guards swarmed into the chamber. Several had climbed up here, setting down a folding table and two chairs, with communications equipment and screens on it. Two techs sat at the table, monitoring the screens. Meyers stood to the side, speaking with two generals. On the screens, Locus could see jets swooping toward the forty-kilometer crustal. Point-defense cannons barked from the crustal surface, obliterating the latest Moloch Net bomber strike.

Meyers laughed loudly and nervously at the sight.

Locus shook his head. Despite the momentary victory, the Queen was losing control of the situation. Oh, her people had captured the Net observation team. One of them must have gotten a call out, however, before Merovingians arrested them. That might mean a defector in Meyers’s organization. She must realize that by now. The Merovingian regiment wasn’t going to mean much in an air-to-surface fight. It also looked like the Moloch Net people weren’t going to give her the time she needed to use the transporter. Were the Ardazirhos behind this somehow?

“General Locus!” Meyers screamed.

Locus realized he’d been woolgathering, as Meyers must have called his name several times already.

He snapped to attention as he regarded her.

“Get your ass over here,” Meyers snarled. “You. Out of that chair.”

At the comm table, a tech jumped out of a chair.

“Sit,” Meyers told Locus.

He sat at the vacated spot.

“Familiarize yourself with my military assets,” Meyers said. “You should be paying attention to the crustal defense.”

Locus studied a screen, tapped a control and looked at another as he scanned the outer defense outposts, silos and quick-fire missile sites. It was an impressive amount for such a small area. The Net people might not realize the full extent.

“The Moloch Net is threatening us with a saturation missile strike,” Meyers told him. “It could come from the east, west or south, or all three directions.”

Locus looked up at her.

“I want to know if you can you stop it.”

“One or two missile saturation strikes I can stop,” he said.

“The others told me that was impossible. How can you do it then?”

“A precision EMP burst could work once and cause all their warheads to become inert.”

“Why won’t that work twice?”

“It would if the Net people were stupid enough to do the same thing. My guess is that after the first EMP blast, they’ll stagger the missile salvoes so they’ll come in smaller but continuous waves.”

Meyers scowled, turning her back on him. “General, I’m ordering you to speak with the Moloch Net Commander. Work out a deal.”

Locus looked around to see whom she addressed. He couldn’t find anyone. “Are you talking to me?”

Meyers whirled around to glare at him. “Yes, I’m talking to you. Who did you think I was talking to?”

“Uh…I don’t understand about working out a deal. What kind of deal are we talking about?”

Her scowl put lines on her forehead. “I must concentrate and guide the scientists so we can successfully nab the spider machine. If you’ve been watching, and I think you have, you know that complications have developed on the other end with the transporter.”

Locus nodded. It had been more than complications, but one nearly unsolvable problem after another. For instance, the Jotun ship had proven resistant to the transporter scanner, slowing the search to a crawl. That wasn’t his problem, though. The Moloch Net people struck him as angry, enraged even. The kind of deal Meyers wanted…might be impossible. And if this had come about because of the Ardazirhos of Central-Control…

“My Queen,” Locus said, “the Net commander will undoubtedly demand that you surrender.”

“Give them anything but for control of the crustal,” Myers said. “Say whatever you must so I have time to continue experimenting.”

“Are you saying I should lie to them?” Locus asked.

“Delay them, you dolt!” she screamed. “Do whatever you must so I can bring the spider machine here.”

Locus felt his face redden. Meyers was becoming bat-shit crazy, unhinged from reality. Yes, she was brilliant and she was losing it. Why had the Net people waited until now to make their demands?

“They’re calling again,” Meyers said, breaking into his thoughts. “Do as I say. This is the moment for you to shine, my general. I need at least another hour, possibly two. That should give me everything I’ve worked my entire life to achieve. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I do, my Queen, but what if this is a move by the Ardazirhos, who are using the Net people as proxies?”

Meyers bit her lower lip, finally nodding. She dug in a coat pocket and pulled out a small red communicator. She stared at it until she clicked a button, putting the device to her face. “Iris,” she said. “Ready the unit. When I give the signal, begin Operation Wolf.”

Locus shivered. Meyers was getting ready to unleash his old unit against Central-Control, with Iris the Spacer Adept to lead it. Could they really know the fabled place’s location?

Meyers noticed his look, grinned savagely and shoved the red communicator into her pocket. Then she left him as she hurried to the three scientists hunched over the transporter controls.

Everything appeared to be coming to a head. Did Meyers trust Iris that much? Locus shook his head and cleared his throat, tapped a panel and swallowed his disgust at what he saw. A hugely fat woman’s face filled the comm screen. She must weigh four hundred pounds, maybe more, and must have found normal mobility impossible. Her features were bloated and she had tiny pin-dot eyes and rashes or splotches on her cheeks and forehead. It also appeared that she lacked hair.

“I am the Operational Moloch Net Superior Remora,” she said in a bass voice. “You must surrender at once or face obliteration.”

Locus had to concentrate in order to focus his thoughts. Superior Remora might be hideous, but she had the power to destroy the crustal and everyone on it. He needed to remember that. Once more, he cleared his throat. Maybe the wolves didn’t use the Moloch Net to attack them. Maybe this was exactly what it appeared to be. “What are the terms?” he asked.

“Only this,” Remora said, “surrender or die. Do you comprehend?”

“I do. However, I would like to point out that Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers controls the crustal—”

“No!” Remora said, interrupting. “Meyers has attempted to deceive us. She has thus lost her rights as an affiliated Net controller. I ask again: do you comprehend what I am saying?”

Locus stiffened as if angered. “On what grounds do you make this false accusation of deception?”

Remora brayed with laughter, opening blubbery lips to show spaced stubs for teeth. “Do you think we don’t know what is occurring over there? Meyers has acquired ancient technology. With it, she is pestering the dreadnoughts and awakening the aliens in the deep Lucifer atmosphere.”

“Those are amazing statements,” Locus said. “Do you have a link to those aliens perhaps to know they’re awakening?”

“No!” Remora shouted, as her features reddened even more. “I’m not answering you. I’m ordering you to surrender at once or face certain extinction.”

“Superior Remora…” Locus said, pausing, glancing at Meyers. The Queen was still absorbed with the scientists as the three lab-coated men argued with each other. Locus glanced at his fellow table tech, another general: a big, broad-shouldered man with a mop of thick brown hair. “You heard the Queen give me authority,” Locus said to the other.

The big-shouldered general nodded.

“I’m giving you ten seconds to comply with my order,” Remora barked from the screen.

Locus focused on her, and he detected something he hadn’t noticed before. She was worried. No, fear gripped her, although she attempted to hide it behind a facade of rage. Why did she fear? Could it have something to do with the Jotuns, the Ardazirhos or what?

Locus cocked his head the tiniest fraction. Why should I believe it’s the Jotuns behind this? He didn’t know, but he was going to go with his impression.

For the third time, Locus cleared his throat. “It’s obvious you know what’s happening over here.”

“Yes!” Remora said. “You’re angering the aliens in Lucifer.”

I’m right. This has to do with the Jotuns. For some reason, she’s terrified of them. Do they plan to rise from the depths and obliterate those on Moloch?

Shock struck Locus. The Jotuns must know about the Builder transporter, that it was somewhere on Moloch. It would appear, as well, that the Jotuns hadn’t been sleeping down there doing nothing all this time. How could the Jovian-type aliens have connected with anyone on the moon, though?

“Your time has elapsed,” Remora said.

“Wait. Don’t you want to know how we’re angering the Jotuns?”

Superior Remora scowled, glaring at him.

“Because we’ve found the location to the Temple of Life,” Locus said.

“What is that? What Temple?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Locus said.

The fear shone from her eyes then, and accompanying rage intensified as her face reddened horribly.

Deflect. I need to deflect. I hit too close to the mark. “That you understand,” Locus said, “means you’re more than a simple Moloch Net superior. I suspect you’re…you’re a Yon Soth spy or plant.”

“A what?” she asked.

“Please,” Locus said. “Are you saying you don’t know that we have a transporter and are about to bring a Builder onto the crustal?”

Remora’s fat-enfolded eyes widened as she stared at him. “You lie,” she whispered in astonishment.

Locus shook his head. Something had just changed this instant. Yes! An idea blossomed then, a way to gain Meyers and himself time. “I can actually hear the greed in your voice,” Locus said. “Don’t you realize that we’re about to break into the Temple of Life? Yes. That has to be it. You do realize that, and the Jotuns want you to stop us. That means you’re working for the aliens. It’s obvious.”

“You’re spinning fantasies about breaking into the Temple. And this idea of having found a Builder—it is false.”

“I see,” Locus said, deciding it would be better if she thought he was a fool, easily misdirected. That would enhance the possibility of her greed motivating her in the right direction. “That didn’t sting enough, did it? Maybe you don’t work for the Jotuns. Maybe instead you’re working for the wolves in Central-Control. Are the Ardazirhos going to appear from a portal and try to grab the transporter from us?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Remora said.

“Sure, you don’t.”

She leaned forward, her eyes intense. “Listen to me, little man. You’re illegally holding a Net observation team. That means—”

“You’re a fool,” Locus told her, interrupting. She was too stupid to understand his hints. He was going to have to tell her the right move, given she was greedy and ambitious for power. “Are you too dense to realize that this is the moment to make your move? You control powerful assets, Superior Remora. Why aren’t you grabbing the transporter for yourself? Why aren’t you making yourself the key player in all this?”

Remora’s eyes narrowed, but obvious wheels began to torturously turn in her bloated mind.

“It’s time to bring your assault ships,” Locus said, “masses of them. They should land at the edge of the crustal, unloading tanks and APCs filled with suited troopers. Smash in here and grab the transporter for yourself. It’s the most precious piece of equipment in the star system. With it, you could become the new overlord, dictating terms to everyone.”

Remora studied him as greed and exalted possibilities shined in her eyes. At last, she asked, “What do you hope to gain from all this? What do you think I’ll give you for telling me this?”

Locus looked away as if staring at something, perhaps deciding whether he had the balls to do this or not. He hunched his head, turned back to her and whispered, “You have to move immediately. Don’t you understand? If you don’t, it will be too late. I can show you who knows how to use the transporter and who are the Queen’s loyal subjects. I want to leave this place, leave it forever. Will you grant me that for helping you?”

A vicious grin twisted Remora’s blubbery lips. A second later, as she started to speak, her image disappeared from the screen as it went blank.

Locus looked up to see the big, broad-shouldered general at the table with him remove the knife that had cut the screen’s power cord. The general stood and shouted for Meyers as he pointed accusingly at Locus.

White-suited guards rushed near and hauled Locus from his chair. They whirled around with him to face an approaching Meyers.

“He conspired with Superior Remora,” the general said, as he pointed the knife at Locus. “He told her to bring assault ships and tanks and grab the Builder transporter for herself.”

Meyers turned to Locus. “Is this true?”

“Of course it’s true,” Locus said.

“That was your final piece of treachery, eh?” asked Meyers.

“Don’t be absurd. I bought you the extra time you requested.”

Meyers frowned at him.

“If Superior Remora sends the assault boats,” Locus explained as if to a child, “she won’t be launching any missile saturations at us. I can knock down those assault boats easier than speeding missiles. Besides, it will take Remora time to assemble her people. That will be time you can use.”

Meyers glanced at the other general.

“He’s a sly liar,” the big general said. “He paints this pretty picture for you and yet he told Remora to strike immediately.”

“What else could I say?” Locus asked. “I had to sound convincing. In any case, I believe Superior Remora works for the Jotuns.”

“How could you possibly have discovered that?” Meyers demanded.

“Superior Remora has knowledge about how the Jotuns feel regarding our latest moves. How else could she have gained the knowledge unless they contacted her and gave her precise instructions?”

Meyers searched his face. Then she tilted her head back and brayed so spittle flew. She waved the other general down, to sit. Afterward, she took Locus by the hand and pulled him from the table. “You’re a brilliant improviser, and it’s the reason I’ve never trusted you. I don’t trust you now, either. But I will reward you for what you’ve done.”

Locus expected a sudden knife in the guts but tried to look pleased.

“When this is over,” Meyers said, “I’ll give you a world to rule. Assault ships, tanks,” she nodded. “That was brilliant, and their preparation should give us more time. The scientists are going to attempt to breach one of the force bubbles. It will take a few more minutes until they’re ready. I hope you convinced that fat cow. Yes, Superior Remora is likely the spymaster for the Jotuns. That makes perfect sense given her past actions and comments to me.”

“My Queen?” asked Locus.

“In fact,” Meyers said, “I likely have several traitors in my ranks. They must report to Remora or to whoever controls her.”

“There is yet another possibility,” Locus said. “The Ardazirhos might strike.”

“Iris is ready. Her attack will be a gamble, naturally—”

Senior Jax shouted for her attention.

“Come with me,” Meyers said.

Locus followed Meyers to the transporter control panel. The three scientists looked harried and afraid.

“I might have solved the riddle,” Senior Jax said. “This might actually work.”

“Do it then,” Meyers said. “We’re running out of time.”

Senior Jax tapped here, there and studied a screen. Then he tapped more, often pausing to watch the screen. Finally, as sweat stained his lean features, he hissed between his teeth.

“Is there a problem?” asked Meyers.

“No,” Jax whispered. “I have a breakthrough. And that, my Queen,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is the symbol for the spider machine.”

Meyers studied the symbol and then Jax. “You’re sure?”

“No, not completely,” Jax said, “but enough to try a transfer.”

Meyers licked her lips. She looked at Locus.

He saw hesitation in her eyes. “This is the moment,” he said softly, trying to encourage her.

Meyers froze for a second. The hesitation turned into anger. “Yes!” she hissed. “Do it. Bring the spider machine to me.”

-70-

Aboard Victory in the hangar bay, Maddox paced back and forth, as Andros’s team welded and repaired the fold-fighter. The space marine squad was ready, as were Ludendorff, Riker and…Keith stood off by himself, staring into space. Keith had just arrived. Perhaps he was still waking up from a long nap.

Maddox’s gut coiled yet again. He knew that he was wound too tight for this. He knew that was bad, and he knew the reason for his unease. Meta and Jewel, Jewel and Meta: he couldn’t stop thinking about his two girls. Would he ever see them again? Would his little girl grow up without her father?

Maddox didn’t wring his hands over each other, but he didn’t need to for Riker to realize something was dreadfully wrong. The captain could sense that knowledge in Riker. Eventually, the crusty old sergeant detached from the others and sauntered over to him.

Maddox didn’t want to hear anything the old dog had to say. This was his personal business, not something to share with anyone, least of all an unmarried man.

“Sir,” Riker said. “I have a question for you.”

Maddox ceased his pacing, but that didn’t stop the swirling in his gut. “What is it? And it better not step over any personal boundaries.”

“It’s as bad as all that, huh?” Riker said.

“What did I just tell you?”

“That you’re worried sick.”

Maddox frowned and then scowled. “Don’t get cute with me, old man.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, sir. I mean, you’re the up-and-coming star of Intelligence. Oh, no, not Intelligence anymore, but of the Fleet, or is it the Patrol arm these days?”

Maddox stared at the meddling old fool. “You want to counsel me. You won’t stop until you do? Fine. Make your point and then get the hell out of here. You’re off the fold mission.”

Riker cocked his head. “Your problem is that you’ve been emotionally invulnerable for too long. You never really cared about people the way others do. Oh, you know how to say the right words, but really care about what happens to another—no, I don’t think so.” Riker shook his head.

“Are you finished?”

“So now, the woman you claim to love—”

Maddox stepped near as he envisioned striking Riker in the face two times. That would be all the blows he’d need to kill the interfering old sod.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Riker said, as if oblivious to his danger, “But your New Man is showing.”

“What?”

“That arrogance they all display. You’re showing it in spades. I have to tell you, sir, it’s an ugly look.”

Maddox’s shoulders twitched. They did because he’d started swinging and checked himself at practically the same microsecond. “You’re a pain in the ass, Sergeant. Leave while you still have your head on your shoulders.”

“I can’t do that, sir. You see, I’m an old-style human and an old-style military man—even though I’m an Intelligence operative. I have the terrible failing of caring for those I love. I know; that’s a damnable word for any of us to use on you. Unfortunately, for me, it’s true. After Meta, maybe after Galyan, I know you better than anyone else does. I’ve heard you mutter a thing or two. I have a suspicion about what’s draining you of…yourself, I guess. You’re caring too much for you to handle.”

“Damnit, old man—”

“It’s the baby that’s doing it, sir. Your little Jewel. She must have wrapped your heart around her little finger. You must really love her deeply, and that’s a fine thing, sir, a really truly fine thing. I’m thinking it means you’re not a New Man after all.”

“Shut your pie-hole, Sergeant. My father was a New Man. He loved as much as anyone.”

“Sir, you and I both know your father was a unique New Man. The others didn’t know what to make of him. So, they murdered him and murdered your mother through that. Ural has some of your father, his brother, in him. But Golden Ural is way different from the rest of them bastards. What I’m saying is that you haven’t learned how to handle that fierce emotion the little baby has brought out in you. Yes, you clearly love Meta; everyone can see that. But she’s a little like you, a tough person who knows how to handle herself anywhere. That little baby doesn’t have that yet. She’s totally vulnerable. You know that. You live that, and now you’re on one of our crazy missions far, far away from home.”

Riker started shaking his head. “It’s no good if you go to pieces on us, sir. It’s no good for us and certainly no good for you.”

Maddox scowled. He should murder this old fool; just get it over with.

“You know that I’m right,” Riker said. “I can feel that in you. Sure, I’m not a di-far and I don’t have your intuitive gifts. But I do know you, sir. Like Galyan, I’ve made it my duty to see that you return home to those you love. I want Meta and your little girl to thrive.”

Maddox hated this. He felt a lump in his throat. This old interfering bastard of a sergeant was getting to him. He turned away and crossed his arms.

“You got to compartmentalize this,” Riker said.

Maddox turned back to face the old dog. “I was the one who named her Jewel.”

Riker grinned in a lopsided way. “I have no doubt about that, sir. It’s a beautiful name.”

“She’s my Jewel.”

“Meta’s, too, I bet.”

Maddox swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared up at the hangar bay ceiling. As he did, anger began to well in him, a deep anger that he hadn’t realized was bubbling down there. He tapped into that anger and shied away, as it raged boiling hot. He hadn’t known—no. He must have understood on a deep level that rage was taking over. This whole mess had taken him from Meta and Jewel—

He stared at Riker with new understanding.

“Oh, oh,” Riker said. “This isn’t good, sir.”

“What now?” asked Maddox, but in an emotionless voice.

“You don’t want to go there, sir. You don’t want to become a killing machine.”

“Don’t I?”

“For the sake of your girls, sir,” Riker said. “They don’t want a merciless killer for a husband and daddy. I can see that you just tapped into something. You’re planning to murder anyone and everyone that gets in your way.”

“Yes,” Maddox heard himself say.

“You need your control, sir, your iron will and deft touch. You’ve been lacking that touch for some time.”

Maddox frowned as he looked through Riker. Yes. He’d become morose. Maybe he didn’t see a real way to return home. Two hundred thousand light-years had a way of doing that to a man. And yes, he’d had a sudden desire to rip apart Lisa Meyers, the Jotuns, the spider machine, everyone who tried to thwart him. And in that moment—maybe Riker’s words did it—a part of his intuitive sense blossomed.

Maddox could see his future self. He’d become more like a New Man, merciless and savage, without pity, without the love he needed to connect with the rest of humanity. He shuddered seeing that, and he craved it. Yet, his sense saw farther, and he saw that savage him hurting Meta because of his mercilessness. He saw his little Jewel becoming something he—

“No!” Maddox said.

Riker’s head jerked upward.

Maddox stood there staring at the sergeant. His gaze bored into Riker. He clenched his teeth so the muscles at the sides of his jaw bulged outward. And then his shoulders deflated as air seeped from his lungs.

The next breath changed Maddox’s perspective. He inhaled another possibility. It had purpose and drive, and love. It was propelled by love of his wife and daughter, and maybe even a love for humanity. He recognized that God stood behind that. The unity of family, husband and wife, and the offspring they had, was the cement of civilization. Was that too heady of a thing to see in this moment?

Maddox cleared his throat. He stepped up to Riker and held out his right hand.

Tentatively, the old dog took it.

“Thanks for caring, old friend,” Maddox said. “I appreciate it. I–I needed that.”

“Sir—”

“Please,” Maddox said, releasing Riker’s hand. His eyes narrowed as he felt himself—it wasn’t compartmentalization. It was something else. In his mind, no, in his heart, he put Meta and Jewel up there on a shelf. He put them there in his prized spot. He stepped back in his imagination, looking at them. Then, he turned around and looked outward. They were behind him. Meaning, anyone trying to get to them would have to go through him. He was the protector, the guardian of the family, his family. He had a job to do out here. It was his duty as a provider for the family. He would do his duty to the best of his ability, and he would get back home to his two ladies. That meant it was time to do this as he knew, his way, his method, the Maddox drive and di-far luck. That would be a combination of daring and ruthlessness, cunning and straightforward honesty. He had to do this as Captain Maddox in order—

He blinked several times.

He had to do this the right way because that was who he was. He couldn’t give everything to his two girls unless he was true to himself.

In that moment, a soaring sensation filled Maddox. It was the steel of resolve filling him, grim purpose and high adventure and—

“Come with me, Sergeant,” Maddox said. “It’s time we dealt with the treacherous Methuselah Woman.”

-71-

Maddox led the others aboard the tin can. At the same time, Andros and his techs unhooked various machines and yanked cables.

“The fighter is iffy, sir,” Andros said. “If you push it too hard as you try to—”

“Talk to Keith about it,” Maddox said, interrupting. “The fold-fighter is his concern, not mine.”

“Sir?”

Maddox grabbed the Chief Technician’s pudgy shoulders and turned him toward Keith, who stepped up to the pilot’s chair.

“He’s the one to tell,” Maddox said. “The tin can is his responsibility.”

Andros squeezed over to Keith and spoke rapidly. Keith hardly seemed to listen.

“Lieutenant Maker,” Maddox said sharply.

Keith and Andros looked over at him.

“Who’s the best pilot in Star Watch?” Maddox asked.

Keith just stared at him.

Riker noticed the interplay and nudged Ludendorff hard in the ribs with his elbow.

“Watch what you’re doing, you oaf,” Ludendorff complained.

Riker got Ludendorff’s attention and motioned with his eyes toward Keith.

“What’s the matter with you now?” Ludendorff demanded.

Riker sighed, leaned near and whispered to the Methuselah Man.

“What?” Ludendorff said.

Riker whispered more urgently.

Ludendorff finally turned to stare at Keith. Maybe he was starting to understand. “Hey,” he shouted. “What’s the matter with you?”

Keith barely acknowledged the question.

“I knew it,” Ludendorff said, raising his voice. “I knew it and now we can all see that you were hot air and brags. Yeah. You talked a good game for a few years, but now you’ve hit your head against defeat. Stay down where you belong. Captain, do you want me to pilot the tin can for you?”

“What do you say to that, Lieutenant?” Maddox asked.

Keith shrugged.

“Ha-ha!” Ludendorff cried with glee. “I’ll show you piloting like you’ve never seen.”

“That isn’t going to work!” Keith shouted at Ludendorff.

“What isn’t?”

“Your reverse psychology. Yes, I’m bummed out. We’re two hundred freaking thousand light-years from home. This is a goat-rope of a mission. We’re screwed, you old fool. Here, nothing works like it’s supposed to.”

“I realize that,” Ludendorff said. “That’s why it’s up to me like it always is in the end.”

“It is going to be a dangerous fold,” Maddox told Keith.

Keith groaned. “Not you too, sir. Reverse psychology is for kids.”

“Lieutenant,” Maddox said. “I need the best pilot for this mission. Are you willing and able?”

Keith shrugged.

Maddox looked searchingly at the ace. “I see. Well, I have a bottle of whiskey in my cabinet in my room. Do you need some liquid courage to get you going?”

Keith scowled. “That’s a low blow, sir.”

“Whatever works, mate,” Maddox said.

The scowl seemed to concentrate into a squinting stare. “Is that how it is after all I’ve done for you and the others?”

“A man’s only as good as his last mission,” Riker said, piping in.

“You say that to me?” Keith asked.

Riker laughed. “I’m the best in the business, mate.” He nodded sharply. “Now you see how stupid that has sounded all this time.”

Keith raised his hand and gave Riker the bird finger.

“What does that mean?” Riker asked. “You have more flying ability in your middle finger than my entire body?”

“Screw the lot of you,” Keith said. “I’ve a mind to show you flying like it has never been done.”

“Promises, promises,” Riker said.

Keith’s head swiveled toward Maddox. “You really think this will work? You really think there’s a chance to get back home?”

“I’m getting home,” Maddox said.

“What’s that mean?”

“I’ll use the portals to get home if I must.”

“And leave us?” Keith shouted, outraged.

“Why not?” asked Maddox.

“You’re a heartless shit.”

“Then fold me into Meyers’ building,” Maddox said. “Fold me there so I can do my magic.”

Color appeared on Keith’s cheeks, which spread to his neck. He shook his head. “You’d really give me that bottle of whiskey?”

“No.”

Keith nodded. “I didn’t think so. Fine. Yes. I’ll pilot the bunch of you. I’m not promising anything. This place, this star system, it’s a lunacy bin.”

“Good place to test yourself,” Riker said.

Keith didn’t reply. Instead, he threw himself into the piloting seat and began to manipulate his flight panel. As he did, the redness left his neck and face, and his fingers moved faster.

The last of Andros’s repair crew departed. The final half of the space marine squad squeezed into their various locations.

“Starting to smell like a locker in here,” Keith said. He flipped a switch, and a conditioning unit began to hum.

“Time is of the essence,” Maddox said.

“I know it, mate.” Keith paused for a moment, looking up. “This trip, I’m not saying sir. I’m saying mate like we used to in the Tau Ceti Rebellion.”

“Get us there and back again,” Maddox said. “That’s all I’m asking of you today.”

A smile stretched the ace’s lips. Then, he snarled and began to resume his preflight check.

Maddox withdrew from its holster and checked his first blaster. He noticed that the space marines checked their weapons. No one had a spacesuit and no one wore armor vests. There wasn’t enough room for them to bring all that. One marine had a jetpack of all things. Maybe that would help.

The last tech stepped off the tin can, and a clang sounded.

“The outer hatch is sealed,” a space marine called.

“Is everyone secured?” asked Keith.

“Sound off,” Riker shouted.

The space marines did, Ludendorff, Riker and Keith.

“Any time now,” Maddox said.

Keith used his controls, and the fold-fighter began to hum as it lifted from the hangar-bay deck.

“Do you want me to fold directly there, sir—mate?” asked Keith.

“Is it better if you see the crustal through the screen?” Maddox asked.

Keith checked his board. “No. I can get us there from here. Just give me the word.”

“Word,” Maddox said.

Keith grinned. “We go in fighting?”

“Kill everyone in the chamber except for those on the transporter,” Maddox said.

“Mayhem, huh?”

“Yes,” Maddox said. “Today, we’re playing this by the old rules: winner take all.”

“Hang on,” Keith said, “as we’re folding…now.”

-72-

The tin can disappeared from the hangar bay and folded through space down to the forty-kilometer crustal on the moon. In a display of brilliant geographic and spatial analysis, holographic exploration and precision folding, the tin can appeared inside the chamber holding the transporter. There was little margin for error. The stubby wings sprouting from the fold-fighter scraped against a wall, gouging the tough material.

Inside the craft, Keith manipulated, with his head craned forward as he studied the compartments in the screen. He tapped a control.

Outside the fold-fighter, newly installed fifty-caliber machine guns roared. The huge slugs tore into Merovingians, white-suited guards and others, obliterating them in mechanical fury. Some of the Merovingians fired back, their beams and slugs striking hull armor. Given enough time, the slugs and beams might have created ruptures. Time the enemy did not receive. Instead, the acts of bravery allowed the ace to sight and kill with the tin can’s heavy machine guns.

Blood, bone and flesh rained and smeared the floor and part of the walls. It was gory. It was brutal and it was effective.

“I killed the nearby guards, sir,” Keith said moments later. “You can unload anytime you want, although we’re still airborne.”

“Can you pinpoint-kill anyone on the transporter?” Maddox asked.

“Not if you want the thing to work as advertised for you later. The fifty-calibers could all too easily destroy it.”

“How many are on the transporter?”

Keith stared at the screen. “More than we have in here. This could get tricky for you.”

“All right,” Maddox shouted at the others. “It’s time we earned our pay—unless any of you plans to live forever.”

“I do,” Ludendorff said.

“Then hang back where it’s safe. You others—follow me!” With a blaster in either hand, Maddox charged toward the opening hatch.

In four strides, Maddox reached the hatch and hurled himself outside, finding himself ten meters off the floor. From midair, he beamed with his right-hand blaster and then the left. A Merovingian’s head exploded so the huge soldier tumbled off the edge of the platform, his heavy rifle falling with him. The second beam struck a Merovingian in the throat. The giant staggered back, crashing onto his back and the heavy rifle hitting him against the chest.

That was all Maddox could do as the floor rushed up toward him. Ten meters was thirty-three feet, a good fall and terrible if he landed wrong. Even a twisted ankle could mean his death a minute later because he was too slow.

Maddox struck the floor, absorbed the shock and collapsed as he tumbled in a roll. The hard landing hurt the soles of his booted feet. He didn’t twist an ankle, but he did lose a blaster as he rolled.

There was shouting, gunfire and screams. The fold-fighter lowered, and the next group leaping out of the hatch didn’t have as far to fall. Some crumpled in the air, hit by heavy slugs or beams. Some hit the floor and groaned in agony as a leg snapped or an ankle twisted or shattered. Two stood and fired back at the enemy on the transporter, to have the enemy riddle them with bullets.

Maddox was already zigzagging as he charged across the floor toward the transporter. He beamed another two Merovingians up there on the second story.

A space marine jumped out of the tin can’s hatch and bellowed, zooming straight at the platform. That marine wore a jetpack.

Maddox realized it was the space marine lieutenant. The marine flew and fired, killing some as more screaming started. Others fired and blew him away. He landed feet first along the edge and tumbled down to smash against the floor. The lieutenant must have had a flash grenade, because he burst into fire.

Then a fifty-caliber from the tin can fired, and some of the great Builder machine blew apart. The single heavy machine-gun sweep took out more of the remaining defenders.

“You’d better know what you’re doing,” Maddox muttered as he climbed the ladder.

The fold-fighter moved closer to the second-story control platform. Beams flashed from the hatch, picking off more of the enemy.

“Stop!” a man shouted on the transporter. “We surrender. We surrender.” The man, a general by the looks of it, waved a pair of white underwear. It may have been the only white cloth he could get his hands on.

“Is that you, General Locus?” Ludendorff shouted from the open hatch.

“Yes!” the general shouted. “Is that you, Professor?”

“It is. Where’s Lisa Meyers?”

“She’s up here with me,” Locus shouted. “If you guarantee her life, she’ll share the transporter with you.”

“Done,” Ludendorff shouted. “That means if any of her people try to break into the chamber, she dies.”

Locus looked back, seemed to listen and looked forward again. “The Queen agrees to the terms. What are your intentions?”

Maddox surged up the last part of the ladder. There were dead and dying up here, far too much blood and spilled guts, and Lisa Meyers with a ray gun aimed at what appeared to be the transporter’s control panels.

Meyers saw Maddox, and she twitched with hatred.

She wants to aim and fire at me, Maddox realized.

Three men in white lab coats huddled in terror against the lower panel. Besides them, Locus was the only other survivor up here.

“Set down your gun,” Maddox said.

Locus whirled around in surprise. He saw Maddox and raised his white pair of underwear higher. “I’m holding a flag of truce.”

“Lisa Meyers,” Maddox said. “Drop your gun.”

“Do you guarantee my life?” she demanded.

“Yes,” Maddox said.

“And you’ll take me away once we have the Builder?” Meyers demanded.

“I will,” Maddox said.

“On your word of honor?” shouted Meyers.

“On my word of honor,” Maddox said.

Meyers threw down the gun and put her hands on her hips. “It’s just as well that you’re here. These three buffoons are incapable of breaching the force bubble. I suspect only Ludendorff knows what to do.”

Maddox knew Meyers as a treacherous schemer, and he knew she would attempt to try something nefarious against them. But he’d given his word, and for now, at least, he planned to keep it.

-73-

This was a tentative situation at best, liable to instant change. The fold-fighter had settled onto the floor, crushing many of the dead and more than one wounded, killing them inadvertently.

Three space marines had survived the fight. Two of them presently guarded the only way in. Naturally, it would be easy enough for the enemy to blow a hole in the wall. Meyers had contacted her people, and for the present, they held back.

“That will not last,” Meyers said. “One of my generals might get desperate and strike. Worse, the Moloch Net people are readying to move against the crustal and flood it with tanks and soldiers.”

Maddox had already learned about Superior Remora from Locus. He felt antsy staying here, but they had to if they were going to get the spider machine. Riker kept a stunner aimed at Meyers. Ludendorff worked with the three scientists at the panel controls. Maddox held two blasters again, ready to gun down Meyers and any enemy soldiers that might appear.

Locus sat on the floor of the second-story platform, with handcuffs securing his wrists behind his back. He seemed content as Maddox had told him he could come back with them onto Victory. At Maddox’s insistence, Meyers had removed the explosive collar around his neck. So, there was that, too.

“You’d better do this soon, Professor,” Maddox said. “If any of her people get smart, they’ll cut power to the transporter.”

Ludendorff looked up and then continued to study the transporter screen. “There’s resistance to our targeting beam, to our acquiring a lock.”

“The resistance has steadily increased since we began,” Senior Jax said.

Ludendorff appeared thoughtful. “The Jotuns must be employing a new type of shield. That’s disconcerting, to say the least.”

“Maybe we should fold onto their ship and grab the spider machine directly with the tin can,” Riker said.

Maddox raised his right eyebrow. That might just be the most brilliant thing the old dog had ever suggested.

Ludendorff noticed Maddox’s approval. “No. I don’t think that would work. The new Jotun shield might prove resistant to folds. Do you remember the shield or barrier around the broken nexus at Omicron Nine?”

“I do,” Maddox said. During the Library Planet mission, a fold-fighter hadn’t been able to cross the barrier to reach the broken nexus.

“The Jotun shield is like that,” Ludendorff said.

“So, teleporting the spider machine here is impossible?” Maddox asked.

Meyers groaned and began shaking her head. “You three said it would work.”

“It still might,” Jax said.

“What are you thinking?” Ludendorff asked Jax.

“That we use a helix bore to drill through the shield.”

“What’s a helix bore?” asked Meyers.

“A tightly focused beam.” Ludendorff ran a hand through his thick white hair. “It would take plenty of power, maybe more than the transporter possesses.”

Jax nodded. “There’s a chance such a prodigious amount of power flowing through the transporter’s mechanisms could destroy them.”

“Then I forbid it,” Meyers said.

“Sorry,” Maddox said wryly. “You lost that privilege when you surrendered.”

Meyers turned to him. “Captain, I realize you’re feeling quite smug, as capturing me is a high-water mark in your career. But you mustn’t let it go to your head. We need the transporter for a variety of purposes. Destroying it on a whim—”

“Methuselah Woman,” Maddox said, crossly.

“What?”

“Shut up.”

Meyers reddened with rage. “How dare you use that tone with me.”

“I’ll send you to the fold-fighter if you don’t shut up.”

Meyers blinked, perhaps considering her options. “Why not? Send me there. I don’t want to see you ruin everything I’ve ever worked toward. You will—”

“Sergeant Riker,” Maddox said, interrupting once more, realizing Meyers planned treachery while aboard the fold-fighter and alone with Keith. The truth, he couldn’t trust her.

“Sir,” Riker said.

“Stun her into silence.”

“With pleasure, sir.” Riker aimed his gun.

“No,” Meyers said. “I’ll—”

A nearly invisible force clot hit her in the chest. So did a second and third. The last proved to be enough, as Meyers slumped unconscious onto the floor.

The three scientists stared in profound disbelief. Locus laughed from where he sat. Jax looked at Maddox.

“You think I’m hard to deal with,” Ludendorff told Jax. “Don’t ever mess with the captain.”

Senior Jax swallowed uneasily.

“It’s time to try your helix-bore idea,” Ludendorff told Jax.

Jax stared at Ludendorff before nodding.

Then both he and Ludendorff began to work the controls. The two cooperated like a pianist duo, whispering to each other, manipulating, studying the screen and then continuing with the next step.

A hum began from the great machine. The hum intensified in sound. At the same time, it became hotter in the room.

“There is a grave risk in attempting this,” Jax shouted.

“So is failing to get the spider machine,” Ludendorff shouted.

The hum and heat increased yet again, and the transporter began to shiver.

“Sir,” a door-guarding marine called on a comm set. “There’s movement out there. Merovingians are massing.”

“They might have tapped into our comm net,” Riker told Maddox.

The captain nodded.

The scientific duo of Ludendorff and Jax continued their performance, manipulating, arguing, watching and—

“Breakthrough!” Ludendorff shouted. “We have a breakthrough.”

“Don’t count your ducklings too soon,” Jax warned.

“Nonsense,” Ludendorff said. “This is it. Apply the Number Six diode.”

Jax stared at Ludendorff in horror. “Are you mad? The transporter can’t withstand that degree of energy surge. You can feel it shaking now. Too much more will destroy it.”

“Apply it, man,” Ludendorff shouted. “Hurry before the Jotuns think up a countermeasure.”

“It’s on your head if we fail,” Jax said.

“Do it!” Ludendorff shouted. “This is the moment. Apply the Number Six diode or I’ll know you’re attempting sabotage.”

With fixed intensity, Jax stared down at the panel. He tapped a button, twisted a dial ever so slowly…”

“Now, now, give it to me now!” Ludendorff shouted. “I need full power.”

Sweat dripped from Senior Jax’s skin. He wiped his face with a sleeve and twisted the dial.

“Yes,” Ludendorff breathed. “I was right. That’s the critical staging. That was the correct move.”

Jax turned to stare at him in even greater horror. “You were guessing? You didn’t know?”

“I’m a Methuselah Man,” Ludendorff said preening. “I do not guess. I make inspired decisions. Look you, he’s teleporting.”

Maddox moved to the edge of the second-story platform. He aimed both blasters at the T-pad. Golden swirls circled there faster and faster. A hum began. Then the spider machine appeared faintly with his gleaming silver dome, now with several scorch marks from blasters or something similar. The faintness began to solidify.

Maddox leaped the distance, his legs absorbing the shock of the landing. He aimed the blasters at the fully materialized Sub Bar Potential Enki.

“Well?” Maddox said. “What’s it going to be? Are you going to come quietly or do I have to start burning off legs?”

“Interesting,” Potential Enki said, as he scuttled around. “Am I on the moon Moloch then?”

“You are.”

“This is a Builder transporter?”

“It is.”

“Is General Locus nearby?”

Maddox pointed up with a blaster. “He told us about you.”

“Did he also tell you about the Temple of Life?”

“Yeah. We know about that too.”

“Sir,” the same marine as before said through a comm unit. “The Merovingians are massing flamers. We’re not going to be able to hold them for long if they start beaming.”

“We must now use the transporter to free Enlil,” Potential Enki said.

“Enlil?” asked Maddox. “Where have I heard that name before?”

“I do not know,” Potential Enki said. “Where have you?”

Maddox scowled. He’d heard that name somewhere and it was in relation to Enki.

“Ah,” Potential Enki said. “It is possible you’ve heard the name from the ancient Earth Sumerian myths of the gods.”

Maddox grunted. He remembered now. Ludendorff had told them before. In the Sumerian myth, Enlil had sent a flood to wipe out humanity, as they’d been too noisy all the time so the god couldn’t get any sleep. Enki had warned a few of the clay people about the coming deluge and they’d built an ark. The story had shown that Enki was pro human as Ludendorff claimed. But if Enki was pro human, what was Enlil? He’d authored the killing flood in order to wipe out everyone on Earth.

“Where is this Enlil?” Maddox asked.

“The Jotuns have him, of course,” Potential Enki said. “He is a Builder, and I’ll need his help in the Temple of Life so I can become fully Enki. This is wonderful. This is the moment of my great destiny. I have a good idea where the Jotuns are holding the suspended Builder Enlil.”

Then Maddox understood. Enlil was Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyer’s Builder, the one she served, loved and worked tirelessly to save. According to ancient Sumerian myth, Enlil had tried to eliminate humanity. Now, Meyers wanted to destroy all humanity…just as her Builder had once wanted. If he helped free Builder Enlil, he might be aiding Meyers in her extermination of the entire human race.

“Did you hear me, Captain?” Potential Enki said. “We must free Enlil at once with this superb transporter.”

“I heard you. But we’re not going to have time for that. The Merovingians are about to attack. We won’t be able to retain the transporter long enough.”

“It is fortunate then that I already know Enlil’s coordinates. We must free him this instant and then try for the Temple. You need not worry about us once we’re inside the Temple.”

Before Maddox could reply, a blast from the opposite wall as the door to the chamber exploded. It sent chunks, shards and dust billowing into the chamber.

“We’re out of time!” Maddox shouted. “Everyone, get to the tin can. We’re leaving!”

“No,” Potential Enki said, as he raised a threatening mechanical arm. “This is the moment to free Enlil and reach the Temple. It may never come again.”

“Look over there!” Maddox shouted.

Merovingians jumped through the newly made opening. The space marines fired from across the chamber. Keith fired from the barely lofted tin can and Riker did from up on the platform. Keith’s fifty-calibers did most of the carnage, killing the first wave, causing the other Merovingians to hesitate and then pull back.

“We have to leave now,” Maddox shouted, aiming the blasters at the spider machine. “If you don’t go, I’ll have to destroy you.”

“Are you, a gnat of a man, attempting to thwart me from my great purpose?”

“No, you idiot,” Maddox said. “This is the only chance you have of achieving your great purpose. You have to stay alive, and we have to come back later and recapture the transporter.”

The spider machine bobbed up and down. “You believe that. Yes, your bodily functions give that away. I am analyzing you, you understand. I am making sure you are not practicing deception against me.”

Maddox understood very well indeed. He remembered the machine’s tricks from earlier, and indeed practiced deception, using all the skills taught him throughout the years, including from Balron and the Erill spiritual entities.

“Very well,” Potential Enki said, “we will attempt this your way, Captain. For the sake of the universe, I hope you are right.”

-74-

If the tin can had been crowded coming to the crustal, it was worse leaving. Some of the space marines had died, but they were taking the three scientists, Locus, Meyers and the large spider machine.

Keith kept firing the fifty-calibers, giving them cover to leave the transporter and climb the rope ladder dangling from the hatch. The fold-fighter was several meters off the floor. The spider machine scaled the ladder with simian ease, squeezing through the hatch, which snapped shut after the machine made it in.

Whoever coordinated the enemy assault must have given orders for the next stage. Portable flamers targeted the area around the door into the chamber. The marines no longer guarded it. Hot plasma from the flamers melted the wall around the door, creating an even greater entrance.

“Is everyone in?” Keith shouted.

Maddox looked around. The others were strapping in. The spider machine was nearest the closed hatch. Meyers tested her seat restraints, making sure she was secure.

“Listen to me,” Maddox hissed into Keith’s ear as he squeezed the ace’s right shoulder. “This is critical you do it right.”

Keith nodded sharply even as he depressed controls. Outside the tin can, fifty-calibers hammered at a rush of Merovingians in battle armor, mowing them down.

Maddox saw that on the flight screen. He was sure they would never regain the transporter no matter what they tired. The general in charge here would make sure of that. Whoever controlled the transporter could send bombs or Merovingians wherever he wanted. That was the theory anyway. That was one reason Maddox had taken the three scientists with him. But Meyers might have a backup team of transporter operators. He couldn’t afford others to have this thing, sending bombs or Merovingians onto Victory.

“Are you listening to me?” Maddox whispered.

“Aye, mate,” Keith whispered.

“Just before we fold, hammer the transporter with the fifty-calibers. Destroy it, but don’t tell anyone you’re doing that.”

Keith turned to stare at Maddox.

Maddox squeezed Keith’s shoulder even harder. “I doubt we’ll ever get home to Earth if that thing is operational.”

“Aye,” Keith said with understanding.

Maddox hurled himself from Keith, landing in his seat, strapping in. “We’re in! Get us out of here. Hurry!”

Keith ran his hands across his controls like a master pianist, sending heavy machine-gun bursts in both directions. The fifty-calibers swiveled and they hammered in concentrated bursts, smashing the Builder transporter, chopping it apart with the huge caliber bullets. The heavy guns twitched and hosed more destruction upon the unique artifact of Builder construction.

Only then did the tin can begin its fold sequence.

“What’s happening?” Ludendorff shouted. “Why have we delayed? We should already be gone.”

“Lieutenant,” Maddox shouted. “Is there a problem?”

“Hold onto your balls, mate, we’re folding.”

The tin can disappeared from the transporter chamber in the building on the forty-kilometer crustal. Disorientation struck Maddox and the others. A moment later, the disorientation dissipated.

“We’re back,” Keith said matter-of-factly.

“Are we outside the starship?” Maddox asked.

“No,” Keith said, as if perplexed. “We’re in the hangar bay where we started. Isn’t that where you wanted to return?”

Maddox grinned, nodding. “Well done, Lieutenant, well done indeed.”

Keith shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Is there anywhere else you want to go?”

Maddox glanced at the spider machine. “I think so, Lieutenant. But we’re going to have to plan the next move in greater detail before we attempt it.”

“Whenever you’re ready, mate, just give me a holler.”

“When will we return to Moloch?” the spider machine asked.

“Captain,” Valerie said over a fold-fighter wall-speaker. “I’m glad you’re back. I request your immediate presence on the bridge.”

Maddox turned to Potential Enki. “Do you know why she’s calling?”

“How could I?” the spider machine said.

“We just rescued you,” Maddox said.

“That is obvious.”

“In the past, you screwed me one time after another. Why shouldn’t I have you junked for that?”

“That is a ridiculous suggestion. You desire to go home, I presume.”

“Are you lying to me about that?”

“How have I lied?” Potential Enki said. “Do you not wish to go home?”

“You’re implying you can get us there.”

“I am indeed implying that.”

“Can you really do it?”

“Captain, I think you mean can I do it in the short term, as in this year?”

“No,” Maddox said. “I mean within the week.”

“That would be cutting it fine, but if everything proceeds as it should, yes, I can do that.”

“How?”

“As I have said, I will need Builder Enlil and the transporter. When can we return to Moloch?”

“Soon,” Maddox said, as he glanced at Meyers. She’d been listening closely.

“Have no fear,” Meyers said. “I’ll speak to my generals, telling them I’m alive and well. Can we really rescue Enlil?”

“I certainly need him,” Potential Enki said. “And I know how to free him. Once we have the transporter again, I will show you how.”

“Captain,” Valerie said over the wall-speaker. “Why haven’t you responded? You must come to the bridge on the double. The Jotun ships are rising from Lucifer.”

“Excellent,” Potential Enki said. “Their rising will make this much easier. We must move quickly, Captain. I do not trust the Jotuns.”

“Give me a communicator,” Meyers said. “I’ll solve all our problems with my people.”

“Not just yet,” Maddox told her.

“But you heard Potential Enki,” Meyers said. “Time is critical.”

“Sergeant,” Maddox said. “Escort Potential Enki, Meyers and the scientists to the Professor’s laboratory. A squad of space marines will assist you. Ludendorff, I want you to stay here with Keith.”

“Now see here—” Ludendorff said.

“Professor,” Maddox said, interrupting. “You must stay here.”

Ludendorff eyed him for only a moment. Did the old bugger understand? Ludendorff shrugged, saying, “Very well, if you insist.”

“What’s the meaning of this skullduggery?” Meyers demanded of Maddox. “What are you trying to conceal from me?”

“Sergeant,” Maddox said, while ignoring her, “if anyone gives you trouble, stun them into submission.”

Meyers glowered as she rubbed her chest, but she quit speaking, although her suspicions were obvious.

“Will you go with them peacefully?” Maddox asked Potential Enki.

“…Yes,” the machine said.

Maddox didn’t like the sound of that. He couldn’t afford a mess at this juncture, but he didn’t want to make too big of deal of the security arrangements. “Galyan,” he called.

“Here, sir,” the Adok holoimage said, appearing.

“I want you to watch Potential Enki. If you think the spider’s trying to double-cross us again, give me immediate notice.”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said.

“What has changed that you’re acting like this?” Potential Enki said. “A moment ago, you promised full cooperation. Now, you seem to be scheming.”

“I’ll tell you what has changed,” Maddox said, “the Jotuns rising from Lucifer.”

“I do not believe that,” Potential Enki said. “You are fabricating issues out of thin air.”

“Do you mean lying?” Galyan asked the machine.

“Have you tricked me, Captain?” Potential Enki asked.

“Not at all,” Maddox said. “I really must go. Will you cooperate?”

“Will you truly help me rescue Builder Enlil and help us get to the Temple of Life?”

Using all his arts of deception, Maddox radiated truthfulness as he said, “I will.”

Potential Enki did not answer immediately. Presumably, he was using devices to analyze the captain. “There is something odd occurring. You seem truthful, and yet…yes, I will cooperate, awaiting the fulfillment of your word.”

Maddox nodded, turned and raced for the hatch. He landed on the hangar-bay deck and sprinted across it. The Jotun ships with their hydro-lithium hulls were rising from the depths of Lucifer. The Jotuns obviously didn’t like the latest development and planned to do something about it.

With anticipation, knowing he was in the thick of it, Maddox sprinted along corridors, wondering what he was going to see once he reached the bridge.

-75-

By the time Maddox reached the bridge and sat down in the captain’s chair, Valerie had already maneuvered Victory away from Moloch. The seething molten-lava moon receded into the background as the dust-debris made it more difficult to get a good visual on it.

Valerie returned to the comm station, as the woman who’d been manning it left the bridge.

“What’s been happening?” Maddox asked.

“A Moloch Net representative has been sending us repeated threats,” Valerie said. “I’ve been ignoring them, as I could see no way they would attack us.”

“A surface-launched missile strike,” Maddox said.

“A few well-placed antimatter missiles from Victory would have taken care of that,” Valerie said. “In the worst-case scenario, I would have jumped out of danger and jumped back to the moon after a time.”

Maddox nodded. That would have been sound tactical doctrine.

“The more interesting change has been two calls from the main dreadnought commander,” Valerie said. “She has been requesting a clarification on our intentions. The last call was more urgent, as I think they’ve finally spotted the rising Jotun vessels.”

“I would think they would have spotted the Jotun ships before us.”

“Normally that would be true,” Valerie said. “However, I sent a hidden probe toward Lucifer immediately after you left for Moloch.”

Maddox raised his eyebrows.

“It seemed like an elementary precaution,” Valerie said.

Maddox nodded with approval. “Your previous fleet command has sharpened your tactics.” He referred to her command during the Omicron 9 Battle against the Yon Soth on the fourth planet.

“Oh,” Valerie said, as she spotted a blinking panel light. “Speaking of, it’s the Dreadnought Flotilla Leader. She wishes a word with you.”

“She?” asked Maddox.

“Yes, sir,” Valerie said. “She’s called Leader Lage. I get the feeling she knows Lisa Meyers, possibly has been in communication with the Methuselah Woman before the current troubles.”

Maddox remembered Vint Diem aboard the Dreadnought Autocrat. Clearly, Meyers had her infiltrators over there. Everyone seemed to be double-crossing and spying on everyone else in the star system. The sooner he could get out of here—

“Put this Leader Lage on the main screen,” Maddox said.

“Yes, sir,” Valerie said, as she began to tap her board.

A moment later, a lean woman with a purple buzz cut appeared. She had black eyeliner around her eyes and a battle-axe earring dangling from her right lobe.

“Captain Maddox, I presume,” Lage said.

“The same,” he said.

“This is a pleasure indeed. You’ve finally decided to come out of hiding. Oh. Wait, a moment, please.” Lage held up her right hand. There was an ouroboros symbol—a dragon eating its tail—tattooed on her palm. She turned and listened to someone off screen. She looked back sharply at Maddox. “You were on our dreadnoughts, on the Autocrat. This was more than a few weeks ago.”

“I commend you on your Intelligence Service,” Maddox said.

“No,” Lage said, chopping the air with her right hand. “First, how did you manage to infiltrate onto the Autocrat?”

Maddox debated on his answer. It was getting hard to remember everything he’d promised everyone. He decided to take a chance with her, and asked, “Do you know about the Ardazirhos and their portals?”

“Of course,” Lage said. “They are a constant plague in this region of space. Are you in league with them?”

“Hardly. I accidentally fell through one of their portals—”

“A moment,” Lage said, interrupting. “Are you suggesting that you’re a Methuselah Person like Lisa Meyers?”

“No. But I am from outside your star system.”

Lage sagged back against her seat. She leaned forward a moment later. “Your ship with its odd design, is it also from outside our star system?”

“Yes.”

“From fabled Earth?” asked Lage, sounding hopeful.

“You know about Earth?”

“The old legends speak about a time when our ancestors lived there.”

“Leader Lage, I’m attempting to find a way home back to Earth.”

“That’s impossible. No one can cross the barrier. Believe me. My people have tried for centuries. It cannot be done.”

“I have reasons to believe it is possible.”

Lage became thoughtful. Soon, “Do you know Lisa Meyers perchance?”

“I do indeed.”

“Meyers has promised us a way home back to Earth. Are you in league with her?”

“Not exactly,” Maddox said.

“She’s your enemy?”

“She is presently in my custody.”

“That is a bold boast, sir.”

“Captain,” Valerie said quietly. “The Jotuns have just destroyed our hidden probe.”

Maddox nodded without turning around. “Leader Lage, on a different topic, what do you intend to do about the Jotun vessels?”

“You mean the alien ships rising from Lucifer?”

“The same,” Maddox said.

“I haven’t decided. I will first test their intentions by observing them.”

“I doubt they respect the ouroboros.”

Lage’s eyes narrowed before she glanced at her right-hand palm tattoo.

“I doubt the Jotuns respect the Temple of Life either,” Maddox added.

Lage blushed crimson as astonishment showed in her eyes. “I no longer doubt your boast about holding Meyers captive. You know the secret knowledge. Are you in league with the Jotuns?”

“The opposite,” Maddox said. “I have a potential Builder—”

Lage made a strange symbolic gesture in the air with her right hand as she bolted to her feet. “You hold congress with the evil ones?”

“The Yon Soths are the evil ones,” Maddox said. “They caged your ancestors ages ago in this star system.”

“Because of the sins of our ancestors the Yon Soths did this,” Lage said. “We have been attempting to pay for those sins all these centuries.”

“And how has that been working out for you?”

“You make a jest about our banishment from the worlds of men?”

“No,” Maddox said. “I’m telling you the Yon Soths are the real devils for what they did. They lied to you. The Builder I hold can possibly help all of us.” Maddox didn’t know if that was true. But if Builder Enki could help them get home, why not help the Crowder People to leave this awful star system as well?

Lage turned her head again, watching someone off screen. Finally, she faced Maddox. “I would need to speak to Lisa Meyers. If she can confirm what you say…then maybe I will make common cause with you against the Jotuns.”

“I’ll need to see if Meyers is willing to speak to you,” Maddox said.

“Order her to do it.”

“It might not be as easy as that.”

“Ah,” Lage said. “Very well, I will give you a truce of one hour as you attempt to bargain with the Methuselah Woman.”

“Noted and appreciated,” Maddox said, as he rose to his feet. “With your permission then, I’ll withdraw to hold conference with her.”

“Yes,” Lage said, as her image dissolved from the screen.

-76-

In the hangar bay near the fold-fighter, Maddox told Ludendorff about his order to destroy the Builder transporter and that Keith had done so.

“You did what?” Ludendorff shouted. “Are you mad? Don’t you know we have to get the potential unit to the Temple of Life so he can become a Builder?”

“We don’t have the transporter.”

“So we get it back.”

“How could we do that?” Maddox asked. “The general in charge over there, or the Moloch Net people, would have made sure that was impossible.”

Ludendorff glared at him, finally relenting and shrugging. “It’s moot anyway, as the transporter no longer exists according to you.”

“My point exactly,” Maddox said. “You didn’t have a way.”

“We could have made a deal with Meyers,” Ludendorff muttered.

Maddox shook his head. “That would have been a terrible idea. If we had the transporter, the potential unit, as you call it, would have wanted to free Meyers’s Builder with it.”

“So?”

“The potential unit told me the other Builder’s name.”

“Why would that matter?”

“It’s Enlil.”

Ludendorff’s eyebrows rose. “You’re sure about that?”

“Dead sure.”

Ludendorff gave him a side-glance, rubbed his forehead and faced Maddox squarely. “I suppose you think Meyers supped deeply from this Enlil. That’s why she wants to destroy humanity.”

“Bingo.”

“Hmm…” Ludendorff shrugged. “You could be right. It sounds plausible anyway.”

“More than plausible,” Maddox said. “I’ll never willingly free Enlil, and I’ll try to kill him if the opportunity presents itself.”

“I know better than to argue with you about this, as your mind is clearly made up. I’m curious, though. When are you going to tell Meyers and Potential Enki all this?”

“Maybe never,” Maddox said.

“Okay. So tell me this then. How do we get home?”

“First, we destroy the Jotuns.”

Once more, Ludendorff raised his eyebrows. “Can we destroy them?”

“You tell me. How good are lasers and antimatter missiles against hydro-lithium hull armor?”

“That’s a good question. I have no idea.”

“Then guess,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff stroked his chin, finally shaking his head. “I suspect not very good at all.”

“Could we use the tin can and fold into a Jotun ship, dropping an antimatter bomb?”

“That might be suicidal.”

Maddox turned from the Methuselah Man and began to pace. This was a bind. Potential Enki was likely critical to their getting home, hell, to even crossing the barrier out of this damned star system.

“Galyan,” Maddox said.

The Adok holoimage appeared. “You called, sir?”

Maddox nodded. “Escort Potential Enki here.”

“Meyers will want to come with him,” Galyan said.

“On no account are you to allow that.”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said, disappearing.

“What are you thinking?” Ludendorff said.

“That it’s time to strike a bargain with the bastard of a machine that took over my mind and body for a time.”

***

As Maddox waited for the spider machine, he practiced his breathing to calm himself, using the Way of the Pilgrim to do it. He set his mind at peace even though he did not have peaceful thoughts. It felt as if turmoil ruled him. Once more, Maddox breathed in the Way of the Pilgrim. After a time, it brought calm.

Soon thereafter, Sub Bar Potential Enki scuttled into the hangar bay. A squad of armed space marines and Galyan followed.

Ludendorff had retired. Keith was in a nearby room relaxing but ready to go if needed.

“Potential Enki,” Maddox said. “It’s time we came to an understanding.”

“We already have one,” the machine said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh dear, this doesn’t sound good. Have you lied to me? Were those the oddities I detected earlier in your behaviors?”

“Perhaps in an area or two,” Maddox said.

“This is disconcerting.”

“I imagine that’s true. However, it cannot be half as disconcerting to find that one’s mind and body have been overtaken by an alien force.”

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up. Do you hold a grudge against me, Captain?”

“You prevented me from seeing my wife and child when I was last in the Solar System.”

“I urge you, Captain, for the sake of the universe: you must put aside such petty thoughts.”

Maddox laughed, and the sound was not pleasant.

Potential Enki bobbed up and down. “Attend my words. I have a vital function to perform. I have waited many centuries to do this. The right circumstances have finally fallen into place. You have no idea how rare that is. Your family, it is as nothing compared to my great and mighty task.”

“To you, no,” Maddox said. “I happen to look at things differently.”

“Do not boast about that, Captain. Your petty ideals are so small it is embarrassing. I must bring forth Enki, and freeing Enlil is critical to my becoming Enki.”

“How do you propose to manage the feat?” Maddox asked.

“The same way your people rescued me—through the wonderful Builder transporter.”

“I no longer have access to the transporter.”

“I understand this. Thus, we will have to work through Lisa Meyers. I realize you might not want to do that. However, in order to…persuade you…I must let you know that you will never go home to Earth unless I free Enlil.”

“Why is that?”

“I need his aid in the Temple of Life.”

Maddox shook his head. “You’re not getting his aid.”

“Then you’re not going home.”

“At least I know,” Maddox said, as he drew a blaster, aiming it at the machine. “Then I might as well destroy you. I do this to gain my revenge over you for taking over my mind and body.”

“No, no, Captain, I cannot believe you would stoop to such a low and criminal act.”

“Is that your final word on the matter?”

“I am afraid so.”

Maddox pulled the trigger and fired at the chrome housing in the middle of the spider machine. The ray did not immediately go through, but burned a mark on the housing as smoke rose.

“Cease this at once,” the machine shouted. “As you will die if you continue.” The spider machine did not attack. The space marines had all drawn their weapons, tensely aiming at it.

Maddox released the trigger and lowered the blaster. “How long do I need to beam the housing in order to destroy it?”

“You are a mad and suicidal beast. Don’t you realize that if you breach the housing, I will detonate? I will explode with a greater-than-antimatter blast. Your ship and everyone in it will be destroyed. That is the Builder failsafe against alien tampering.”

Maddox shrugged.

“You cannot possibly mean that,” Potential Enki said.

“Use your analysis on me and see if that’s true or not.”

The machine did not move or speak.

“Fine,” Maddox said, aiming again.

“Wait,” Potential Enki said. “Let us reconsider. Why can’t we rescue Enlil?”

“For one thing,” Maddox said, “the Builder transporter has been destroyed.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I ordered Keith to obliterate it just before we folded from Moloch.”

“This is the truth?”

“Yup,” Maddox said. “I saw him do it.”

“This is dreadful. Why would you do something so barbarically monstrous?”

“Because I was losing control of the transporter,” Maddox said. “And I couldn’t abide the thought of anyone else having control of it.”

“Oh woe, woe, woe is me. All is lost.”

“Not necessarily, as we can fold to the Temple of Life in the tin can.”

“No, never,” the machine said, “as that would be sacrilege against my great heritage. Only a Builder or a potential unit can set foot in the Temple.”

“I suggest it’s time you made an exception to the rule,” Maddox said.

Potential Enki did not move or speak for several seconds. Finally, “Even if I agreed to that…I would still need Enlil.”

“Look,” Maddox said. “Let me give you…a barbaric or animal fact. I’m telling you this as it’s settled in my mind. Enlil once tried to destroy humanity. That’s what the Sumerian legends tell us, anyway. Now, his protégé, Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers, has as her stated goal the eradication of the human race. I’ve concluded that this is her goal because she’s like her Builder. So no, I’m not helping Enlil escape so he can finish what he once started. Instead, I’m going to try to eliminate him for good and keep Meyers in a cage for the rest of her life.”

“This is blackest sacrilege,” Potential Enki said. “You, a gnat, ensure that Enlil remains a prisoner of the Jotuns? No, no, it is inconceivable, unreasonable and morally wrong.”

“Well,” Maddox said with a shrug, “them’s the breaks. What you have to decide is what is worth more to you: failing to bring Enki to potential or failing to free Enlil?”

“You present me with stark choices.”

“I’m not shedding one tear, as you screwed me and kept from seeing my family.”

“Those are not even close to comparable things,” Potential Enki said.

“To me they are. You’d better decide quickly, bub.”

“Why?”

“You may not survive long. You see, my starship might be destroyed as we battle the Jotuns.”

“No, that would be a double disaster. You must avoid that at all costs.”

Like that, Maddox’s calm departed. “Choose, you freaking machine, or die,” he said, raising his blaster significantly.

Potential Enki scuttled around several times in place, his “feet” clicking against the deck. The machine did so faster—and the marines became agitated. Perhaps they believed the thing was going mad. They looked to Maddox. He was frowning, wondering the same thing. Then the machine slowed its rotating. It was impossible to tell if it faced the captain or the marines, but finally the spider machine quit turning in place.

“Because this is a galactic emergency,” Potential Enki said, “I can use two Methuselah People in place of Enlil.”

Maddox shook his head. “Meyers isn’t going with you.”

“Then it is truly impossible.”

“Wrong,” Maddox said, “as I’ll take her place.”

“You?”

“I’m the di-far. I have a new intuitive sense. I can do what she would have.”

“That is illogical,” Potential Enki said. “After all your bluster about being controlled, you will now freely allow me to control you again?”

Maddox laughed. “You won’t be controlling Ludendorff or me.”

“That would be rankest sacrilege of the lowest sort. No, no, I could not permit it.”

“You’ve already told me your sob story. If I were you, I’d start thinking about how awful it will feel failing in your great task. Remember, there are almost no Builders left in the universe. Are you going to let your race die out because of mere protocol?”

“No…” the machine said softly. “You are a treacherous and hard-hearted man, and you strive with outrageous zeal to win, to have your way. You are unfortunately correct about the Builders. They have dwindled almost into extinction, and yet, they are the greatest race in the universe. It is sad, so sad, but how can I stand by and do nothing when I have the ability to do something? What you suggest is against ancient protocol, and that is precious indeed, but life is even dearer. Yes. I will do as you propose, Captain. You win. When can we leave?”

“I need to make a few calls,” Maddox said. “After that, I’ll let you know.”

-77-

Maddox was back on the bridge in his captain’s chair. It had been nearly an hour since he’d spoken with Leader Lage. He’d talked with Potential Enki and then been with his medical team as they’d pumped Lisa Meyers full of mind-altering drugs. Afterward, he spoke with an increasingly drowsy Meyers.

She now sat on a seat beside him, with a fixed and frozen smile on her face. Meyers hardly seemed like herself as she sat there, with a dull stare in her drugged eyes.

Maddox had spun a tissue of lies and innuendoes to her, promising many things and assuring her of more. Was it wrong to do that? In one sense, yes, it was underhanded and duplicitous. Still, Meyers had done immeasurable damage to the Commonwealth of Planets, slain untold millions and possibly billions with her evil actions. If she could now serve the Commonwealth through drugging and—

Maddox shrugged. He would willingly do much worse to the Methuselah Woman. She planned to murder all of humanity. What then did he owe her? Maybe the only thing he owed her was to himself: that he not stoop so low as to perform evil acts which would stain him for the rest of his life.

“Leader Lage,” Maddox said, as the Dreadnought Flotilla Leader appeared on the main screen. “Here is Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers as promised.”

Lage eyed Meyers and then stared at Maddox. “She’s drugged.”

“That’s true,” Maddox said. “She took some fierce wounds on Moloch and has been through surgery.”

“Is this true?” Lage asked Meyers.

The Methuselah Woman raised a languid hand as her inscrutable smile increased.

“This is intolerable,” Lage said. “I thought you were a man of honor.”

“I am,” Maddox said. “The Methuselah Woman has employed terrible deceits against my people. I, in turn, would be justified to let her die, or even kill her myself. Instead, I agreed to save her despite herself.”

“Is that true?” asked Lage.

Meyers slowly nodded.

“And the Jotuns,” Lage said. “Are they our common enemy?”

A spark of life appeared in the Methuselah Woman’s eyes. She leaned toward the main screen. “The Jotuns hold…” Meyers bent her head as tears dripped from her eyes. Maddox had told her under great duress that the Jotuns had slain Builder Enlil. Almost all his deceit had gone into convincing her of that. The rest had been cover and misdirection. It appeared to have worked.

Meyers shook her fists as the tears fell from her eyes. “The Jotuns are hideous murderers. They must die, all die, every one of them.”

“The Jotuns have offered us freedom from the star system,” Lage said.

Meyers laughed bleakly. “They’re black-hearted liars from the Pit. We must all unite against them before they destroy us too.”

Lage turned her head to look at someone off screen before regarding Meyers again. “This is surprising news. I had thought—”

Meyers rose and screamed with rage as she shook her fists. “Monsters! The Jotuns are monsters. Kill them all before it’s too late.”

Lage eyed Meyers before looking at Maddox. “She has been drugged. Is she truly in her right mind?”

“Even though it may not seem so,” Maddox said, “yes, she is.”

“How can I know for sure?” Lage asked.

“The only way we can break the system barrier is if we destroy the Jotun vessels,” Maddox said. That was partly true. He had to keep the Jotuns occupied while Keith folded to the Temple of Life. According to Potential Enki, the Jotun vessels could strengthen a field around the Temple of Life if they remained deep in the atmosphere. Up here, the Jotun vessels couldn’t do that.

Lage shook her head. “I am unsure, but I do hate the Jotuns. They have thwarted us for decades, making our maneuvers for freedom much more difficult. We could never move down into Lucifer’s atmosphere. The few times we tried, the Jotuns destroyed our deep-pressure vehicles. Perhaps you’re right, Captain. We must obliterate the massive ships. Will you help us do it?”

“Most assuredly,” Maddox said.

Lage stared into his eyes. “Then let us attempt to lure them away from the gas giant. Do you have any ideas?”

“I don’t,” Maddox said. He motioned to Valerie. “But my tactical officer surely will. You will be working through her.”

Valerie stepped up.

“Ah, a woman,” Lage said with obvious relief. “Yes. I will gladly work through her.”

“Good,” Maddox said. “Lieutenant Commander, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir,” Valerie said.

With that, Maddox slipped away, heading for the bridge exit. It was time to make the fold to the center of Lucifer in the rocky core, hoping to reach the Builder Temple of Life.

-78-

Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers shuffled through ship corridors, escorted by several space marines and a doctor to monitor her condition. They were taking her down to medical, likely to strap her to a bed and observe her.

Meyers’s drug-addled mind seethed with hatred and despair. She’d lost the fight to free Builder Enlil, her mentor and master, the greatest intellect in the universe. She’d served him for so long, and had learned so very much from him. The Jotuns had caused Enlil so much hurt, and through that, had deeply hurt her.

Meyers hoped the Jotun monsters died hideous deaths. But, but—there is another problem here.

Despite her state, Meyers realized that Captain Maddox had tricked her. He was like all New Men, treacherous by nature and dangerous to an inordinate degree. Meyers wasn’t sure she was even thinking correctly. But, but—Iris, I must speak to Iris and launch her. That is the thing to do now.

Meyers was cunning and more than devious. She’d envisioned a day like this and had wanted to ensure the possibility of speaking to her people even while she was under guard. Thus, she’d had a one-time device lodged in a back molar. It was most cleverly disguised, so the Star Watch people had failed to find it.

Perhaps she should have used it earlier. Events had been moving so swiftly, however. She hadn’t really felt the time was right. Everything would change, though, if Iris could conquer Central-Control.

Meyers frowned. Could she trust Spacer Adept Iris?

Normally, she would never think about trusting that devious bitch of a Spacer. Meyers had been faking the woman for some time. Yet, Iris knew more about portal pathways than anyone else did but for her. Meyers knew the wolves had slain Clarice, hunted her down and killed her in sight of Maddox aboard an abandoned hauler. The Ardazirhos had understood the danger of the two Spacer adepts, but had only been able to reach the nicer of the two. Yes, this was the moment to make the Ardazirhos of Central-Control pay.

As Meyers shuffled down the ship corridor, she slyly glanced behind her. The marines watched her. The doctor seemed distracted as he looked at a computer slate. Could she pull this off? Now was the moment to try, yes, now or never.

Meyers bit down, activating the one-time device in the back molar. It was constructed of ordinary filling material, the better to disguise it.

There was a buzz against her tooth. It was working. It worked. This was marvelous. A short buzz meant no, a longer one meant yes.

“Is this Iris?” Meyers whispered in a nearly inaudible voice.

The long buzz meant, “Yes.”

“You must attack Central-Control,” Meyers whispered. “Builder Enlil is dead. The Jotuns are rising from the planet. Maddox and the potential unit are attempting to fold to the Temple of Life in the center of Lucifer. Attack Central-Control and secure it. Then, find and free me. I will likely be in a ship in orbit around Lucifer. Do you understand?”

The long buzz meant yes.

“Use the elite team if you can,” Meyers whispered. “If you cannot, take as many Merovingians with you as you can.”

“Hey!” a space marine said from behind. “What are you doing?”

“Good luck, Iris,” Meyers whispered. “Hit the wolves and kill them, and see if you can discover the mastermind behind them.”

A space marine captain grabbed one of Meyers’s arms, shaking her. “I asked you a question.”

Meyers hunched her head and crunched down on the one-time device, destroying it, breaking her link with Spacer Adept Iris down on Moloch.

***

Iris wore tight-fitting silver-colored space garb. She was a busty woman of striking curly-haired good looks. The material strained against her full breasts, naturally attracting male glances when they were around.

She swept a gray tablet from a hidden drawer, having received the message from Lisa Meyers. With blasters holstered at her hips, Iris raced down a corridor in her knee-high black boots. She belted a helmet strap around her chin and activated the helmet.

“This is Code Ninety-Nine,” Iris said in a sultry voice. “Any who hear this are to report immediately to the Gray Room. Come armed. We’re attacking Central-Control.”

Iris ran swiftly and smoothly. She hoped her coordinates to Central-Control were correct. According to the charts, the place was near the center of the galaxy where the stars were old, cool and packed close together. Central-Control was likely an old palace, once the abode of a Yon Soth.

Iris realized this was a mad gamble, but she’d volunteered for the mission—the one to infiltrating Meyers or Ludendorff’s science teams—and trained many long years. The Visionary of her youth had hated Methuselah People. None of that mattered now. If she could gain access to Central-Control—what couldn’t the Spacers do then? With the revival of the Builders—it would be a glorious new era of plenty and vast technological advancement.

Iris laughed with glee, otherwise she might have cried with terror. This was a mad gamble, but then Moloch Net people had overrun much of the crustal and were killing everyone they captured. This was far better than dying uselessly.

The days she’d dallied with that old goat Ludendorff now seemed like long ago. Clarice had actually liked the disgusting man. Iris hoped a day would arrive where she could cut the braggart’s throat. His filthy hands had pawed her pure Spacer flesh. What a disgusting pig old Ludendorff really was, even if he did have a way about him in the sack.

Iris smiled and then scowled, spitting on the deck plates.

She took a turn and slid to a halt, opening a side hatch. Grabbing the upper bar, she hoisted herself and slid into the downward sloping tunnel. She let go of the railing and slid down over three hundred meters, exiting onto a padded landing.

She got up, checked her garment and hurried into the next room.

Ten huge Merovingians turned to leer at her. They might be stupid brutes, but they had powerful sex drives. Each of them bore personal weapons as well. Good.

“Is this it?” she said.

A barely brighter looking giant stepped up. “I’m the Senior Cadet. I lead this mission.”

“You’ll be taking orders from me,” Iris said.

He eyed her, grinning. “Sure, you lead us. What you want to do?”

“We’re entering a portal,” Iris said. “On the other side, if we’re lucky, we’ll land in Central-Control.”

“Huh?” the Senior Cadet said.

“The other side will hold Ardazirhos, wolves.”

“Oh.”

“Kill them all,” Iris said.

“Yes!” the Merovingian thundered. He turned to the others. “It’s a wolf hunt, boys!”

The other nine Merovingians bellowed approval, shaking their weapons.

“Right,” Iris said, as she rolled her eyes. What a bunch of morons. But, they would have to do. She pulled out a gray slate and began to tap in the coordinates.

In moments, a blue swirling hole appeared in midair.

“Follow me,” Iris said, as she manipulated the slate and dived into the portal.

-79-

Maddox was strapping into his seat aboard the fold-fighter in the hangar bay. Keith made his preflight checks. Ludendorff stared off into space. Potential Enki secured himself near the hatch.

“You do realize this is insane,” Ludendorff muttered to Maddox. “We’re folding into the center of Lucifer, a Jovian planet. The gravities will crush us down there.”

“Not inside the sphere of the Temple of Life,” Potential Enki said. “There, normal gravitational forces will be in effect.”

Ludendorff turned to the machine. “What’s normal under these conditions?”

“In your parlance,” Potential Enki said, “one and a half gravities, more or less.”

“You can likely survive greater gravities than we can,” Ludendorff said. “How do we know you’re not lying to us?”

“You do not,” Potential Enki said.

Ludendorff threw his hands into the air and turned to Maddox.

Maddox patted his holstered blaster.

“That isn’t the answer to everything,” Ludendorff said. “We’re heading to the Temple of Life. It’s home ground for him. We’ll be at a disadvantage. You’ve been lying to him. Why do you think Builder Enki will be beholden to you or us?”

“The Sumerian legends,” Maddox said.

“That’s madness,” Ludendorff complained.

Maddox frowned. “You’re the one who told us the legend. Surely, it means something.”

“Yes, something,” Ludendorff said. “But you can’t base your entire strategy off it.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Maddox said. “If I can’t use the legends at least to a degree…we’re screwed.”

“We may be screwed anyway,” Ludendorff said. “You don’t know the Builders like I do. What we’re doing here is sacrilege to them.”

“So I’ve been told,” Maddox said. “Wait. Hold your thought, Professor. Yes?”

“I’m ready to fold,” Keith said, who had been motioning for the captain’s attention.

Maddox sat straighter, looking at the motionless spider machine. “Time is of the essence, Potential Enki. If you’re going to give us the coordinates, now is the moment.”

“I cannot believe this is finally happening,” the spider machine said. “I have waited since my construction for this. To have it finally taking place—”

“Nothing’s taking place if you’re going to stall at the critical moment,” Maddox said, interrupting.

The machine stirred. “You are certain the Jotun vessels are not in the deeper atmosphere?”

Maddox nodded. “Last I checked they were coming up to do battle.”

“Did you actually see the ships?”

“I did not.”

“You must be precise,” the machine said. “If we fail to reach the Temple Sphere, the professor’s predictions will take place. We shall all be destroyed in the crushing planetary gravities.”

“We get that,” Maddox said. “Now, the coordinates, if you please.”

“Open the channel,” the machine told Keith.

Surprisingly, the ace began to tap his controls. Maddox had given Keith different instructions earlier.

“Enki,” Maddox said, with his blaster drawn and aimed at the machine.

“Captain, we must fold,” the machine said.

“Release the ace from your mental control,” Maddox said.

“It is not mental control, as I am only a machine,” Potential Enki said.

“I don’t care what you call it,” Maddox said. “I’m going to burn your unit into a hot mass unless you release your hold of the lieutenant’s mind.”

“Done,” the machine said.

Keith sagged against his seat. He winced and rubbed his forehead. “Oh…my head hurts. What just happened?”

“The spider machine used Spacer-like technology to control your thoughts,” Maddox said.

Keith twisted in his seat, looking back at the motionless machine. “Why’d you do something so underhanded, mate?”

“The coordinates are in your range finder,” Potential Enki said. “You can compute and adjust when you’re ready.”

Keith stared at Maddox. “Captain?”

“Go ahead,” Maddox said. “Run the computations.”

Keith manipulated his flight panel, stopping to wince and rub his forehead from time to time. Finally, “This makes a perverted kind of sense, sir—mate. I don’t really understand some of these numbers. Oh, wait, yes, I see now. We’re going to fold into a vast cavernous area in the core. According to this—” The ace turned back to look at Potential Enki again. “This is the sphere?”

“Correct,” the machine said.

Keith shook his head. “This is the maddest fold I’ve ever made. I guess it should work. It’s kind of freaking me out, though.” He tapped, looked at his screen, tapped and looked again. “Okay, I guess. This is it. Are you gents ready?”

“Your lack of enthusiasm is not giving me much confidence,” Ludendorff said.

“Hey,” Keith said. “I understand. I don’t have much confidence either. This particular statistic—pressure per square centimeter—it’s insane. If we deviate the slightest amount in coordinates, we won’t be in the safe sphere but in the crushing gravities. Our little tin can would be squashed flat, with us inside it.”

“Before you fold,” Maddox said, “you need to lift off the deck.”

“Right,” Keith said, frowning, still rubbing his forehead. “I almost forgot.”

“Remember,” Maddox told the machine, as he suggestively raised the blaster. “If I think you’re double-crossing us, I shoot to destroy.”

“I have noted that,” Potential Enki said. “Believe me when I say I will never forget the threat.”

Maddox heard the latent threat in that and knew once the unit became Enki…that the Builder might want vengeance. Maddox was hoping it would still be pro-human enough to want to help the crew and maybe all the Crowder people in the system.

A loud hum began from outside the tin can.

“What’s that?” Ludendorff said, looking around.

Maddox shook his head. He had no idea.

“What was that?” Ludendorff asked Keith.

“What do you mean?” Keith asked.

“You don’t hear that?” Ludendorff asked.

“The starship is accelerating,” Potential Enki said. “That is not germane to the noise, no, indeed not. I think the ship’s shield withstood the first blast from a Jotun beam. That is good news, as it means the Jotun vessels have risen far from the core.”

The hum sounded again, louder than before.

Ludendorff looked to Maddox. “What if the Jotuns obliterate Victory while we’re away?”

“If, if,” Maddox said testily. “What if your legs fall off? Are you ready to fold?” he asked Keith.

“Aye, mate,” Keith said. “We’re folding in three, two, one…now.”

A moment before fold, Maddox handed Ludendorff a silver headband with a unit to the side. They’d used these against the Liss cybers and against other telepathic threats. Maddox shoved a different silver band onto his head, activating the unit.

Ludendorff put his on as the tin can began to fold.

That should protect the two of them against Potential Enki’s Spacer Adept powers, no doubt gained through tech items inside the spider machine. The bands should work, but the moment of truth was likely coming up soon…

-80-

Lieutenant Commander Valerie Noonan of Star Watch had never seen anything like this. She sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge of Victory.

The double-oval starship of Adok design and manufacture burst out of the dust-debris cloud, reaching the clear area around Lucifer, the great Jovian gas giant.

The planet was massive like Jupiter in the Solar System and had similar banded colors of a comparable hue. This gas giant emitted more radiation than Jupiter. There was no Great Red Spot, however. What Lucifer had were two almost-Great Blue Spots, atmospheric storms. They were parallel with each other and were in the northern hemisphere—as given from the north of Crowder III. In other words, the two Blue Spots seemed like eyes, as if Lucifer watched them.

It was disconcerting, especially as another of the terrible beams struck Victory’s shield.

The bridge shuddered, and a loud hum sounded.

“Galyan,” Valerie said. “What’s causing the hum?”

“Unknown,” the Adok holoimage said.

“Where are the damned dreadnoughts?” Valerie said, striking an armrest.

“This is interesting.” Galyan’s eyelids had been fluttering. Now, they stopped. “I do not detect the dreadnoughts. They do not appear to be in the vicinity.”

“That isn’t interesting,” Valerie said. “It’s a double-cross, its vile treachery.”

“Ah,” Galyan said. “I have detected heat that shouldn’t exist. I wonder if the radiation from the gas giant has been affecting our sensors.”

“What are you talking about?” Valerie said.

“Andros,” Galyan said. “If you would direct your sensors to fifteen, twenty-three, ten, I believe you will discover the whereabouts of the Crowder dreadnoughts.”

Andros Crank began to manipulate his science board. “I’m picking up something.”

The bridge shook once more, and the loud hum intensified.

“Give me a visual of the origin of the beam,” Valerie said.

A second later, the gas giant was no longer on just a quarter of the screen, but filled it. There, just above the atmosphere, was a circular vessel as black as night. The blackness wavered, however, and did not seem…steady state or solid like steel.

“Is that a Jotun ship?” Valerie asked.

“I think so, Commander,” the targeting officer said.

“Where’s the other one? There’s supposed to be two of them.”

“The second is underneath a heavy cloud layer,” the officer said.

A black clot of force ejected from the dark vessel. The clot disappeared and then reappeared just outside Victory’s shield. The shield had already turned red in color. The black clot struck the shield, and the hum and bridge shaking occurred once more.

“Is that a folding…piece of energy or beam?” Valerie asked in disbelief.

“What an excellent way to describe it,” Galyan said.

“Damnit,” Valerie swore. “That’s bad, very bad for us.”

“Commander,” Andros said. “I have discovered the whereabouts of the dreadnoughts. Notice—” His pudgy fingers tapped his board.

On the main screen, an area of space wavered like heat on a road on a blistering hot day on Earth.

“What am I looking at?” Valerie demanded.

“Holographic camouflage,” Andros said. “They must also have some kind of heavy dampeners…shielding radiation, mass and thermal energy, such as ship exhaust.”

“How is that even possible?” Valerie said.

“I can think of a number of ways,” Andros replied.

“It would appear that the Crowder people are using Victory as a diversion,” Galyan said. “It is tactic eighteen on the Heidelberg Battle Chart.”

“What the hell?” Valerie said.

“Oh,” Galyan said. “I have not mentioned that before. Forget I said it.”

Valerie swiveled her chair around to stare at the comm officer. “Patch me through to Leader Lage.”

The woman at the comm station worked frantically. “Lage should be appearing on the main screen, Commander.”

Valerie swiveled her chair back around to stare at a fuzzy, bad connection picture of Lage. “Fire,” Valerie said. “Why aren’t you firing at the Jotuns?”

“Do you see the size of their vessel?” Lage asked.

Valerie blinked with incomprehension.”

“My goodness,” Andros said, as he studied his panel. “The Jotun ship is gargantuan. It’s over three hundred kilometers across.”

Valerie stared at Andros and then looked back at Lage. “We have to attack together.”

“You’re doing fine,” Lage said. “Your shield is quite remarkable. I congratulate you on its sophistication.”

“Never mind about that,” Valerie shouted. Her fingernails bit into the fabric of her armrests. She was getting emotional about this. That wouldn’t do. She had to maintain cool under fire. “Look,” she said in a calmer voice. “We must work together.”

“I did not realize the Jotun ship would be quite so huge,” Lage said. “How can we possibly destroy it?”

“This is interesting,” Andros said. “Much of the enemy vessel appears to be hollow.”

“Hollow?” Valerie asked.

“Filled with dense Jovian atmosphere,” Andros said. “There are various nodes within the heavy gas, however, hard metal objects spread throughout the greater vessel. I suspect the nodes are the real ships.”

Valerie frowned thoughtfully. The enemy ship was hollow, and it was huge, over three hundred kilometers in diameter. Could they use that in some way? Most of the enemy vessel was filled with gas, dense Jovian-like atmosphere, Andros said.

“The greater Jotun vessel is readying itself to fire again,” Galyan said. “I have been monitoring its energy patterns. This will likely be a double shot. Valerie. We need help immediately, as our shield has already turned brown. A double shot might collapse our shield. I think the Jotuns realize that.”

Valerie had the glimmer of an idea, a way—of course. She saw it then. They could use the size of the enemy ships against the Jotuns. It could work. It had to work. It had better work, or Victory was going to be defenseless in a matter of minutes, maybe destroyed after that.

“Leader Lage,” Valerie said. “I have an idea, a way to defeat the Jotuns. I’m going to need to survive the next salvo, however. That means you must hit the giant ship as hard as you can to distract it, to give us the time to implement my plan.”

“Do you believe me to be a fool?” Lage said. “This is desperation speaking on your part.”

“Yes, I’m desperate,” Valerie said. “But I also do have a tactic. It will work if we cooperate as a team.”

“Tell me your plan.”

“First,” Valerie said. “You have to prove you’re worth having as an ally. We’ve proven ourselves by heading straight at the Jotun vessel. Now, it’s your turn to prove yourselves to us.”

“A questionable argument,” Lage said. “But I understand the thrust of it. Yes, humans must stick together against these monsters.”

On the main screen, ten Crowder dreadnoughts appeared, of fifteen-kilometer size. They were in a mighty, circular formation. As one, heavy lasers lashed out from the dreadnoughts, traveling one million six hundred thousand kilometers to strike the Jotun vessel. The bright thick laser beams burned against the wavy hydro-lithium hull and appeared to do absolutely nothing to it. The lasers bored in deeper, but they merely sank into more of the hull blackness as if sinking into water.

“If you’re going to do something brilliant,” Lage shouted, “now would be a good time to do it.”

Valerie sat forward on her chair, watching the strange scene as an idea occurred to her. Her idea was crazy, but how else would anyone be able to defeat the gargantuan Jotun vessels?

“How much longer can you keep beaming into it?” Valerie said.

“Another half-minute,” Lage replied. “Then we’re going to have to wait and let the cannons cool before we attempt another massed barrage.”

“The Jotun vessel has increased its energy patterns,” Galyan said. “I believe it will launch its beam clot as soon as the dreadnought lasers discontinue firing.”

“Pilot,” Valerie shouted. “Get ready to use the star-drive jump.”

The pilot stared back at Valerie.

“We’re going to jump into the Jotun ship. I want you to set your coordinates accordingly. Yes, set them for the center of the enemy vessel.”

The pilot stared at Valerie with obvious incomprehension.

“Now, now, you must do it now,” Valerie shouted. “It’s our only hope. I order you to do this.”

The pilot faced forward, touched his panel, stared at the readout and began to tap once more.

Suddenly, the dreadnoughts ceased firing. The bright lasers vanished, and the hydro-lithium hull on the Jotun vessel settled back into its old pattern, sloshing a bit like water in a pond, but then fully settling into wavy smoothness.

“Their energy is gathering,” Galyan said.

“Now,” Valerie shouted at the pilot. “Make the jump now.”

Two large force clots appeared on the Jotun ship’s outer hull.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Valerie?” Galyan asked.

“I sure as hell hope so,” Valerie said.

The pilot stabbed a button.

On the main screen, the enemy clots disappeared as they no doubt folded for the starship.

-81-

Starship Victory barely avoided the Jotun barrage as it used the star-drive jump. The mighty Adok vessel disappeared from its location and reappeared inside the huge alien ship.

The starship arrived amid a heavy gas-giant atmosphere. Fortunately, the process of the jump displaced the atmosphere, causing shocks against Victory’s outer hull and inside the starship.

The shaking blasts of sound woke people out of jump lag in a bad way. Valerie was among them. Her eyelids cracked open and she looked around dazed. Horrible metallic screeches, groans and buckling sounds caused her to sit upright. That was too much for her lagged, sluggish body. She vomited.

All around her, others did likewise, the retching sounds filling her with disgust.

Lights flashed on the bridge, while metallic buckling noises created a bedlam of sounds and banshee wails.

“Force field,” Valerie whispered. “We need the shield.”

The bridge shuddered as lights flickered faster. People began to moan in terror.

Valerie jumped up and staggered as the deck tilted. The flashing grew worse as panels began to spark and smoke, throwing off burnt-electrical odors.

Valerie staggered to Andros Crank. Blood ran from his nose and his eyes had become puffy. His short thick fingers moved sluggishly on his board. Valerie didn’t know why she was in better condition than the others were, but she was. She shoved Andros aside with her shoulder, grunting because he weighed so much, and worked his board—

Some of the worst buckling ceased, and the lights began to flash more slowly.

“Valerie,” Galyan said.

She whirled around to see the shimmering Adok holoimage.

“We must jump again,” Galyan said. “The starship is breaking apart from the heavy atmospheric pressure.”

“How long will it take until we can jump again?” Valerie said loudly.

“I can make an emergency jump in ninety-three seconds,” Galyan said.

“Can the starship last that long?”

“That is the not the question, Valerie. You must launch as many antimatter missiles as you can during that time.”

“Right,” Valerie said. She started across the tilting and still-shaking deck. Many of the bridge crew were on their hands and knees, puking or weeping. One other seemed whole like her, a space marine, who turned over a comrade gurgling and possibly drowning in his own vomit.

Valerie reached the weapons board, its officer twisted on the deck. While standing, Valerie entered instructions. The controls were sluggish, but they were responding after a fashion. According to the board, an antimatter missile launched, so did another and a third—

“We’re about to jump,” Galyan said.

Valerie noted that a fourth missile left the launch tube. She slapped a switch so no more would launch. Each missile upon its exit had started its automatic warhead timer. Valerie threw her butt into the weapon’s chair, doing so barely in time.

As Valerie clicked on a restraint, the world dissolved for her. She hoped it meant the starship had completed its emergency star-drive jump, because if it hadn’t, they were all going to die soon indeed.

***

From her location at the weapons board, Valerie raised her head. There was something wet on her lips. She wiped it but couldn’t see a thing. The bridge was pitch-dark. She wiped her eyes, breaking crusted blood and then wiping off the crusts.

Now she could see. There was faint emergency red showing the bridge. A fire burned on a nearby panel, providing even more illumination. Many of the crew did not move as they lay on the deck. Were they dead?

Valerie swallowed in a sore throat. She was alive. They must have made the jump then. She got up as every muscle ached, and her forehead hurt where she’d gashed it. She managed by a slow process to reach the captain’s chair. She lowered herself painfully into it.

“Can anyone hear me?” she whispered. Her sore throat wouldn’t allow her anything louder.

“I hear you, Valerie.”

She looked around, but she couldn’t see Galyan. “Are you dead? Am I hearing voices?”

“I am in ghost mode,” Galyan said.

“Why?”

“My main circuits appear to be damaged and thus it is all I can manage. I have ranged through the vessel. It is barely holding together.”

“What about the Jotun ship?”

“I do not know as I cannot see out with the sensors.”

“Can you take a look as a holoimage?”

“My logic processors must be down, as I should have already thought of that. I will do so now.”

Valerie didn’t see Galyan disappear. Everything seemed the same, but she figured he’d gone.

“Valerie.”

She started in the chair and shouted. “Don’t do that. Where are you? I can’t see a thing.”

“The red emergency lighting makes it difficult to see me in ghost mode,” Galyan said.

“Where is the starship?”

“We are in orbit around Lucifer, but I do not see the dreadnoughts or the Jotun vessels. That leads me to believe we are on the other side of the planet as them.”

“That’s probably good.”

“Should I cross through the planet to see if I can see the others?”

“If you can,” Valerie said.

Again, there was silence.

Valerie looked at the controls on the armrests. She studied and then pressed one. A glimmer of more and normal light shined from a working bulb unit. An automated fire retardant unit had put out the fire on a panel, so no more illumination came from it.

This time, she saw Galyan’s holoimage as he reappeared. Part of it was missing, which was freaky and weird.

“Valerie, I am back.”

“I know. I can see you.”

“The mighty Jotun vessel is breaking apart and has been rupturing. Heavy gases surround the wreckage. The dreadnoughts are beaming anything remotely threatening, breaking everything into smaller pieces. I believe the antimatter missiles you launched started the enemy vessel’s destruction.”

“Well, what do you know,” Valerie said. “My tactic worked.”

“That is true,” Galyan said. “However, the second Jotun ship is rising, and it is beaming clot-shots at the dreadnoughts.”

“At least the second ship didn’t sink back into the atmosphere and ruin everything for the captain.”

“That is also true. Did I already tell you that two dreadnoughts are mere wrecks?”

“No.”

“It is so.”

“We have to get Victory back into fighting condition,” Valerie said.

“We will be lucky to keep it in one piece,” Galyan said.

Valerie breathed in and out, thinking about that. “Right,” she said. “That’s our job then. Go around the ship and see who’s able to work. Then, we need to start directing the damage-control teams and make emergency repairs.”

“What about the final Jotun vessel and the dreadnoughts?”

Valerie shrugged. “For now, that isn’t our concern. Keeping in one piece is. Let’s hope Captain Maddox and Ludendorff—and Keith—are doing better.”

“You mean we must rely upon Builder Enki to save us?”

Valerie stared at the incomplete Galyan. “I think so.”

“That is a sobering thought.”

“Yes,” Valerie said. “It is.”

-82-

The Spacer Adept Iris groggily opened her eyes as two Ardazirhos dragged her down a corridor. Her garments were torn and stained in places by blood and gore.

Her feet dragged as the two big canines continued down the long corridor. Iris looked up as they passed a long upper window. The sight shocked her, as it showed thousands of red, blue and white gems packed in the night sky. She realized vaguely that the dazzling lights were nearby stars. This was somewhere in the core of the Milky Way Galaxy, the stars close together. The sight was unbelievably beautiful.

Iris had led her ten Merovingians through the portal pathways into Central-Control. After months of study and guesswork, Lisa Meyers had figured it out. Iris would never be able to tell Meyers that, though. Upon landing, the Merovingians had gone berserk, killing Ardazirhos at their controls and shooting up the delicate boards. It had been glorious.

More Ardazirhos had shown up, though, and killed every last Merovingian, shooting them down like mad dogs. Iris should have killed herself when the Senior Cadet had toppled, his torso smoldering like burned bacon, but she just wasn’t the type to suicide. One of the wolves had thrown a stun grenade. It had gone off, knocking her out, and now she’d woken up.

As they dragged her, Iris cleared her throat.

The two Ardazirhos stopped, lifting her upright. The bigger one, with gray in his muzzle, had shiny intelligent eyes.

“Are you Yunus?” Iris whispered.

He growled low in his throat. Then he grabbed an arm and propelled her forward so she staggered.

It proved a long tiring walk, and Iris realized she was probably going to die here. She should never have made the assault. It had been a stupid idea. What had she been thinking listening to Meyers?

The big Ardazirho with gray in his muzzle interrupted her thoughts by pushing her down onto a cot. Iris tried to resist. It didn’t matter. He held her down while the other attached restraints over her body and limbs. Finally, they put a steel helmet on her head and pressed a button.

The entire table with her on it slid into an opening. She immediately felt claustrophobic for the first time in her life. Spacers were born to live in tiny spaces. This was different.

Then, she felt a strange and alien intellect all around her. “What are you?” she said.

“What Lisa Meyers thinks of as the mastermind,” a machinelike voice said.

Iris gulped. She hadn’t wanted to hear that. Forcing herself to speak, she asked, “And that is what exactly?”

“I’m asking the questions, and we shall begin.”

Iris lost consciousness for a time. She felt the mastermind stir upon learning several facts: the Jotuns were rising from the depths of Lucifer and—

“The Temple of Life,” the mastermind said. “I calculated correctly. At last, thanks to Captain Maddox, we can make the attempt.”

Iris tried to ask what that meant.

“No, no,” the mastermind told her. “I have other uses for you, Iris of Third Spacer Fleet. First, though, you need training, yes, deep training. Go to sleep, Iris, go into a long sleep.”

-83-

The crew of the tin can sat inside the vessel like statues. Maddox, Ludendorff and Keith did not twitch, although their chests rose and fell. The spider machine had collapsed. That was to say its mechanical legs had given out so the bottom of the central housing touched the deck.

It was impossible to know how long the three remained that way. The lights worked just fine in the fold-fighter. The conditioning unit continued to process air and it remained warm in here. Nothing happened otherwise.

Finally, Captain Maddox’s right check twitched, although his eyes remained unfocused. A span of time later, the other check twitched. Again, time passed, and the captain’s eyes began to focus.

Where am I?

He didn’t have an answer.

Who am I?

The question…he was somebody. For time immemorial, he’d been nobody. Now, he was somebody…living, alive, breathing—

I have a soul.

Maddox smiled at the thought, and his mind cleared even more.

My name is Captain Maddox, and Meta is my wife. We have a baby girl named Jewel.

That unlocked his paralysis, allowing him to move his shoulders, blink several times and look around. Maddox recognized Ludendorff, the ace in the piloting chair and the—that was a Builder spider machine, a potential unit.

A weird thought seeped into his consciousness. He should remove the silver band around his head as it had become uncomfortable. He would feel so much better if he did that.

Maddox actually reached up to take off the headband. A spark of caution stayed him from the removal. He looked at the potential unit again. That was the Builder machine that had screwed him over more than once.

A low laugh escaped the captain’s throat. He would not remove the headband because as long as it worked it protected him from forms of mental domination.

Instead, Maddox removed his restraints and surged to his feet. It was harder to move about in here—“Because I’m under one and a half gravities,” he said aloud.

The sound of his own voice helped clear his thoughts even more. At that point, Maddox frowned. Why should the spider machine have collapsed? That didn’t make a lick of sense.

Maddox nodded. The collapse indicated something. A possibility was that something wasn’t right in the Temple of Life. Now, why shouldn’t things be right in the Temple?

Maddox snapped his fingers. He had a sneaking suspicion it might just have something to do with the Ardazirhos of Central-Control. The wolves had been screwing around the star system from the beginning. They’d even brought him here, or the portals had. That couldn’t be blind chance, could it?

Maddox shook his head. He was not a big believer in random chance creating much of anything. He certainly didn’t believe that random chance plus loads of time, millions or billions years, could create something from mere hydrogen atoms. When he looked at a building, he knew there was a builder, just as when he observed a painting, he knew that an artist had painted it. Those things were self-evident. He certainly believed in a Creator of the universe and everything in it, as that was the most logical thought he could conceive upon seeing complex life forms. An ordinary man had 6.5 octillion organized atoms in his body. That was 6.5 thousand trillion trillion (6,500,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000) atoms. They all had to work in exact ways in order for a man to function normally.

Random chance had made a man that way? Maddox shook his head at such nonsense.

Thus, he wasn’t going to buy that the wolves of Central-Control had been fiddling with people for the sheer hell of it. No. The Ardazirhos had a plan, a goal in mind by their actions.

Maddox looked at the collapsed spider machine. A process was at work in the Temple of Life that had short-circuited Potential Enki. That did not match the Temple’s supposed function. That thus logically indicated intruders had done something to screw with potential units and possibly even with Builders heading into a Temple of Life for…whatever reason a Builder might have.

“All righty then,” Maddox said to himself. He checked his belt. He had two blasters, both of them fully charged. He also had extra charges on the belt.

He moved to the Armory and used his thumbprint to open it, taking out a heavy beam rifle and hooking a few grenades onto his belt.

Should he wake Ludendorff or Keith to help him? He didn’t think so. This was his day to rise and shine. The intuitive sense told him that in spades.

Maddox inhaled deeply and headed to the hatch. He had to pick his way carefully over the mechanical spider legs. He checked a meter on the bulkhead. There was breathable atmosphere outside. Good. That would save him from wearing a spacesuit. He slapped the emergency button.

The hatch slid open.

Maddox held his breath and jumped out—he landed on substance but couldn’t see his feet, his boots. He stared down and spied ankle-high mist hiding his boots. As far as he could see was a vast plain of brightness. He didn’t spy any walls or bulkheads of sphere protection. This place was surreal, maybe even dreamlike.

He cocked his head. Was this a dream? He shook his head. It was not a dream. His intuitive sense told him so. He moved in a slow rotation—ah, he should go that way.

Hefting the beam rifle, Maddox began to march. He stopped twenty steps later and looked back. Yes, he saw the fold-fighter just fine. It was the only thing he did see in this realm…other than himself.

Breathing deeply, he faced forward and continued to march across the bright plain. He found the way harder to go, and he shifted from side to side. There was something odd up ahead, but he couldn’t see it exactly.

He kept trudging, and his arms became tired holding the rifle. He finally used the carrying strap and slung the rifle over his shoulder.

Another hundred steps changed everything. One moment, he was in the bright and endless plain. The next, he saw a huge black spheroid with sparkling points of light in it. He did not like the thing in the least. Worse, he realized it pulsated at a slow and steady rate. Should he take a pot shot at it?

His intuitive sense told him that would be a terrible idea. The thing might unfold and attack him.

Was it alive then?

His intuitive sense said, “Not exactly alive as you conceive of it.”

Maddox stopped short, raising his eyebrows. He’d actually heard his intuitive sense speak. That should be impossible. He snorted. Maybe being inside the rocky core of a Jupiter-sized gas giant should be impossible as well.

Anyway, he approached the huge, pulsating black ball with sparkling lights in it. Soon, he had an idea of its massive size. It loomed above him by three stories and was just as wide. As he peered at the thing, he had the impression that it was the universe. The points of light in the thing were galaxies. As in, each point of light was really a galaxy, many bigger than the Milky Way Galaxy.

It was more than a machine, and it wasn’t alive in the sense Maddox lived. No. It was—Maddox tilted his head, frowning as he examined it. He had the feeling it was—

“Yon Soth,” Maddox whispered. “This is a thing of Yon Soth construction.”

How then had it come to lie in the Builder Temple of Life?

He saw motion to the left.

Maddox backed up, saw three black-suited, helmeted aliens and knelt on one knee as he shrugged off the heavy beam rifle. He didn’t aim at them, but he held the rifle ready to do just that.

The three suited, helmeted aliens trudged slowly toward him. Finally, they approached within ten feet of him and stopped. The center alien, the most thickset of the trio, opened the visor of his helmet as it slid down. The big Ardazirho had gray in his muzzle. Maddox had seen this guy before. At that time, the bigger Ardazirho had worn a black and tan uniform and held a swagger stick.

The Ardazirho growled harshly at him.

Maddox shook his head. “Sorry, old boy, I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

The Ardazirho looked down at a unit on his belt. He depressed a switch on it and growled again. From the unit came the words, “Do you understand me now?”

“I do,” Maddox said. “Who are you? What’s this all about?”

After listening to the unit growl words in his own tongue, the Ardazirho held up a gloved hand, speaking once more. As before, the unit interpreted the wolf speech into English. “I am the Yunus. But I will tell you no more. Thus, I urge you to save your questions, Captain.”

“You know who I am?” Maddox asked.

“I said save your questions, as I’m not going to answer any. You have achieved a remarkable feat in surviving this long and then drawing off the Jotun vessels. The one I serve has desired this for many cycles of time. While deep in Lucifer’s atmosphere, the Jotun vessels, or the emanations from them, have blocked my master’s way into the Outer Courts for far too long.”

“You know that this is the Temple of Life then?” Maddox said.

The Ardazirho sighed. “Instead of asking questions, you must perform a function for us. If you do, we shall leave the Outer Courts of the Temple of Life. Naturally, we shall take…” The Yunus used an open gloved hand to indicate the huge, pulsating black spheroid to the side.

“First, you need to tell me what that thing is,” Maddox said.

“I will not say. But I will reward you for your help. Once…the black spheroid is gone, you can take your potential unit inside the Temple. There, it can become a Builder. It is conceivable the Builder will be intelligent enough to figure out the way to release you from the star system.”

“What about you?”

The Ardazirho shook his head. “My master has no interest in the Commonwealth of Planets. In fact, he cares nothing about your part of the galaxy. We have a different destiny as far removed from you as you are from ants.”

“Do you think of yourselves as gods?”

“Hardly gods,” the Ardazirho said.

“Is that a god?” Maddox pointed at the pulsating black spheroid.

“Captain, I believe you once met the Hormagaunt.”

“How do you know that?”

The Ardazirho merely waited.

“Did your master tell you?”

The Ardazirho shifted and sighed.

“Tell me, Yunus, is that another Hormagaunt?”

“I am not Yunus, but the Yunus. Now, please, Captain, you must desist with the barrage of questions. Help me defeat the guardian, and you can be on your way.”

“Why me?” asked Maddox. “Why can’t you defeat the guardian?”

The Ardazirho looked up, shaking his head slowly. “There are rules which you cannot comprehend. This is the… Think of it like a complex combination, a lock to open in order to take what you want from a safe.”

“Are you saying if you harm the guardian, you won’t be able to remove the…?” Maddox turned to look at the huge black spheroid. An idea formed from his intuitive sense. He regarded the Ardazirho, the Yunus. “You’ll have stained yourself if you battle the guardian?”

“Corrupted is the correct word.”

“The blood of the guardians will stain you?”

“Captain, I have said more than I should. Your barrage of questions, the way you go about it—your technique works after a fashion. One almost feels compelled to answer something. This I have done. Now, I’m finished doing so.”

“Who’s your master? You need to tell me that much. I deserve that much.”

“You deserve nothing. Now, Captain, I hope you don’t force me to get rough with you.”

Maddox regarded the other two suited Ardazirhos and then the slowly pulsating black spheroid. He didn’t trust the wolves. He wondered why the Yunus thought he wouldn’t simply open fire on them. Maddox frowned, faced the leader with gray in his muzzle and began to nod.

The Yunus relaxed just a fraction.

Maddox raised his beam rifle and fired. The rifle buzzed. The end glowed, and a slow-motion ray of destructive force exited the barrel and started toward the Yunus, moving slower than Maddox normally walked.

The Yunus stepped to the side so the slow-moving beam passed him. Maybe the wolf thought that was clever.

Maddox did not. As the Yunus turned back to him, opening his muzzle, perhaps to lecture him on the futility of beam weapons in this realm, Maddox rose from his kneeling position and charged.

The Yunus barked in the harsh language.

The two suited Ardazirhos with their visors shut began to move at Maddox.

Despite the one and a half gravities, the captain leaped forward and thrust the rifle barrel at the chief’s face. The barrel actually passed an earlier and slower moving section of beam.

Two things happened practically simultaneously. The earlier section of beam hit and burned the barrel and caused it to slag. The newer beam, the first part, exited the barrel and burned into the Yunus’s face. Then, the end of the barrel exploded as further beam power caused the slagged part to hurl pieces, shards—shrapnel as from a grenade—into the visors of the other two Ardazirhos. The shrapnel broke the visors and sank into the two wolf faces, killing them as well.

Maddox dropped the broken beam rifle as the three aliens flopped onto the misty ground, if it was ground and not decking. Maddox examined himself for wounds, gratified to find none.

He knelt by each Ardazirho in turn. They were indeed dead. He took a gray tablet from the dead chief, examining it. Ludendorff would likely know how to use this.

Then, a premonition chilled the back of Maddox’s neck. He launched forward, twisting as he did, and saw a black tentacle whip where he’d just been.

The giant black sphere—something was happening to it.

-84-

Maddox stood, and a fierce compulsion to remove the silver headband battled within him. He wanted to remove it. He needed to do so in order to understand what was happening. And yet, a last shred of his will just flat out refused to do so.

You are a stubborn creature.

“Are you doing this to me?” Maddox shouted at the sphere. “How can you speak into my mind if I’m wearing this?”

The tentacle pulled back within the giant sphere with its star-like points of light. There was something hiding in the large pulsating blackness, something tiny in comparison to the sphere. The thing had hellish red eyes, and those eyes watched him with a cold and wicked hunger.

“Why did the Ardazirhos want you?” Maddox shouted. “Who is their master? Who is this guardian?”

Remove the headband and you’ll understand everything.

Maddox bent his head and closed his eyes as pain filled him. The compulsion to obey— “No!” he shouted. “I won’t obey! I won’t. You can’t make me.”

I can, but I see that you would become a mewling wreck of a creature, of no worth to me. Still, do you really think you can resist my will for long?

“Yes,” Maddox panted, the pain causing him to shiver with weakness. “I’ll resist until I’m dead. I’ll never surrender.”

Maddox cried out as the pain intensified. He shuddered, hugging himself, panting and resisting. “No,” he whispered. “Never, never, I’ll never surrender.”

Abruptly, the pain vanished.

Maddox opened his eyes and raised his head. He took a deep breath as normality returned to him. Then, he noticed the small thing inside the sphere watching him with those evil red orbs. Instinctively, Maddox looked away. Perhaps the orbs had hypnotic power. They would capture him if he stared at them for too long.

You’re impressive, Captain. I salute you and your power of will. You indeed pass the test and are worthy of…

Maddox cocked his head as wonder filled him, a sense of majesty and grand possibilities. If he removed the headband he would gain such worldly wisdom, he would be like unto a god, a veritable prince in the galaxy, perhaps even a star conqueror bequeathing fantastic gifts to whoever deserved them. He would rule in splendor and have harems of women—

“What?” Maddox said.

The thing did not speak, but it showed him endless harems of beauties parading before him to do his every bidding.

“You just made a mistake,” Maddox said. “I want Meta, my wife. I desire no other. I reject your offer, as it’s false. The price for these things, I have no doubt it’s much too high.”

You will obey me, Captain.

Maddox laughed recklessly, shaking his head.

So be it. We will do this the hard way. The—damn, not now, not when I’m so close. This is unfair.

The hellish red eyes peering out of the giant black sphere—they vanished.

Maddox frowned. He no longer felt the thing, power, dominion—whatever it had been. It seemed to have withdrawn deeper into its…its prison.

Maddox stood straighter as the realization hardened into belief. The black pulsating sphere was a prison of sorts. He had no idea what kind of prisoner it held, but he did understand that the prisoner was evil and of vast potential power.

Why hadn’t the original captors slain the evil thing instead of imprisoning it? There was no answer, nothing from his intuitive sense, in any case.

There was another issue. Why had the prisoner retreated? It had communicated frustration, and that something was coming…it feared.

Maddox heard a sound, a faint thing. He turned, and he saw a rolling mist, no, that wasn’t quite it. It had the shape of mist, but it was a living thing. Could that be what the prisoner had feared?

Maddox watched the misty thing roll closer, and he became sleepy. He tried to prop his eyelids open, but they were not cooperating. Weary, he sat on the ground, or the decking of the Outer Courts. His head drooped forward until his chin touched his chest.

Unfair, Maddox thought sleepily. This is grossly unfair. I made it here. I should get to see what’s happening.

***

“Captain Maddox.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Some information will do.”

“Who are you?”

“The guardian to the Temple of Life, obviously.”

“Are you a Builder?”

“Oh my, no. What a ridiculous thought.”

“Are you a machine?”

“Captain, you must answer a few of my questions.”

“Am I asleep?”

“Of course, you are. It makes the processing much easier. Now, the questions—this will be painless.”

Time flowed differently, and Maddox had the sense of loss, a small loss, but it was there, as if something drained him of…knowledge.

“Well, that about does it, Captain.”

“You didn’t ask me anything.”

“Of course I did.”

“Why didn’t I understand the questions?”

“The process is the process. If it will put you at ease, you gave me an accounting since your time in the professor’s office when you jumped into the first portal. It would appear that Yon Soth-derived forces have been hard at work blunting the Temple’s functions and doing it for some time and without my knowledge. It was a complex maneuver, quite cunning, as they used foul emanations from the prisoner to conduct wicked experiments in what you refer to as the Crowder System. In the end, the wolf creatures—the Ardazirhos of Central-Control— attempted to free the prisoner. That would have been a galactic disaster. Your instincts just now served you well, Captain. I am grateful.”

“Sure, you’re welcome. But the Ardazirhos were just servants, not the brains of the operation. The Yunus spoke about a master, one he served.”

“I’m sure The Yunus did.”

“Who is the master?”

“Captain…I’m not quite sure as to ‘the master’s’ identity.”

“Why is it that I don’t believe you?”

“It’s your intuitive sense at work, I’m sure. It serves you well. Hmm… Let me rephrase. I’m not going to give you the master’s identity.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hope you never have to deal with that one. He is involved in other affairs.”

“Affairs that brought me here apparently.”

“You have a point, Captain. He is the great manipulator, and used you for a purpose, clearly to draw off the Jotun ships so he could make a stab for the prisoner.”

“That was the point of all this?”

“Oh yes. That much is clear.”

“I was a pawn in a much larger game?”

“That is well put and succinct.”

“Okay… So, how do we make sure this master doesn’t try again and achieve success next time?”

“I, too, am something of a chess player.”

“You mean a manipulator of others.”

“Use whatever words you like, Captain. I do not care.”

“I will. So, what happens next?”

“I have weighed the evidence, dear Captain. Despite everything else, it appears you were critical in ensuring Builder Enlil’s death in the main Jotun vessel. That was most basely done.”

“Why should I feel bad? Builder Enlil hates us humans.”

“For good reason, as you humans just murdered him.”

“You have it backward. I simply protected humanity against a Builder that hated us and has done us harm in the past, at least according to ancient legends.”

“I wonder if Enlil had a premonition of his death at human hands. That might explain his previous conduct toward your kind.”

“Whoever you are, that sounds like purest horseshit to me. Enlil was a bad seed, a bad Builder. Good riddance to him, I say. I’m glad he’s dead, as he deserved it.”

“You are a violent creature, a death dealer with bloody hands. What is worse, you glory in it and see it as being the grand di-far.”

“I didn’t coin the term. A Spacer Visionary called me that. She said I had the ability to lift humanity from one track of possibilities to another, and that it was a rare thing.”

“I’m not going to quibble with you regarding terms, Captain. You caused Builder Enlil’s death, or were a major factor in it happening. However, you also ensured the prisoner’s continued imprisonment. That was quite commendable and vital to galactic stability.”

“Huh. That’s interesting, don’t you think? I did this because I killed those who would have freed the prisoner.”

“I recognize what you’re implying, and I in no way condone your murderous bent of mind. Still, you have brought a potential unit to the Temple. I will take it.”

“Wait a minute. Builder Enki is supposed to help us escape the star system.”

“No. Enki will remain in the Temple of Life, as it desperately needs a Builder as Custodian.”

“That’s good for you. But what about us? Without Builder Enki, how do we get back to Earth?”

“That is not my concern.”

“That’s just great. You know what you are? An ingrate.”

“No. I am the guardian of the Temple of Life. That is my function. I will release you and the others. You can leave the core of the planet once you awaken.”

“You listen to me, Guardian. I brought you a potential unit and made sure the Ardazirhos of Central-Control didn’t snatch your badass prisoner for the master. The least you could do for us—”

“Captain Maddox, it is unwise for you to lecture me. Still, I will grant you one reward. This star system is unhealthy for your kind. I am going to make it off-limits to everyone so what happened here cannot happen again. Later, Builder Enki can decide how to proceed. That will likely be long after you’ve passed on, or died, in your terms. Yes, Professor Ludendorff is the best choice for this. He will soon know what to do. You will also take the Englanders with you. You know them as the Crowder people. The Temple of Life is too important to let any of the lesser species near it, and that includes the Jotuns.”

“What are you saying?”

“Thank you, Captain Maddox. I am afraid, however, that there will be factions among humanity, and others who are not human, who are going to hate you even more for what you have done here.”

“Are you talking about the Spacers?”

“Among others.”

“Are the Ardazirhos still going to have access to Central-Control?”

“I doubt you will run across the Yon-Soth-stained Ardazirhos any time soon. Really, Captain, this time, you have ventured far above your station. The Temple of Life and the revival of the Builders—do not concern yourself with that. You will have enough to do these next few years to make sure you and the rest of humanity survives the coming storm.”

“You’re talking about threats against the Commonwealth?”

“Oh, dear, it appears that I have said far too much, but then I am just a guardian. Good-bye, Captain Maddox, go in peace.”

“Wait. There’s something else I need to know…”

-85-

Maddox woke up in the tin can. He found that the silver headband was still around his cranium, and the blasters were still in their holsters. Ludendorff was beside him in a seat, but there was no headband around the Methuselah Man’s head.

Keith snorted, raised his slumped head and looked around from his piloting seat. “Captain…what happened?”

Maddox frowned, and his head swiveled toward the hatch. Something was wrong—

“The spider machine is missing,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox swore softly under his breath.

“What the hell?” Keith said. “My comm is blinking.”

“Wait,” Maddox said. “Don’t answer that.”

Keith didn’t listen but depressed a switch.

“Are you all right,” Valerie asked from a speaker unit.

“Valerie?” Keith said. “Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” Valerie said. “Were you successful with your mission?”

Keith frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t know why we’re here or…where are we?”

“You’re in orbit around Lucifer,” Valerie said. “Where did you think you folded to?”

“Oh yeah,” Keith said, as he studied the flight screen. “We are in orbit around Lucifer.”

“Is the captain there?” Valerie asked.

“He is.”

“Put him on, please,” Valerie said. “We…have a problem. Or better yet, fold directly to the hangar bay. You’d better hurry, though.”

“Sir,” Keith said, sharply. “You’d better come and see this.”

Maddox unbuckled and moved behind the piloting seat to look at the flight screen. He saw what was bothering Valerie and Keith. Victory was in orbit around Lucifer and surrounded by three huge dreadnoughts, with hordes of Crowder patrol boats pouring from enemy launch bays.

“Commander,” Maddox said.

“Sir,” Valerie said. “Together with the Crowder people, we destroyed the two Jotun vessels. Victory took heavy damage destroying the first one. Leader Lage lost most of her flotilla taking out the second, and she demands compensation for her heavy losses. She said our technology might help defray the costs, and the patrol boats are bringing Crowder soldiers to board us. If we resist, Lage says she’ll destroy our starship.”

“Understood, Commander,” Maddox said. “We’ll fold directly to you.”

“Do you know what’s going on?” Keith asked Maddox.

“Yes,” Maddox said, “our side won. Now, the temporary alliance with the dreadnoughts has shattered and Lage has decided to collect all the marbles.”

“Sir?” asked Keith.

“What happened to my headband?” Ludendorff said, as he felt his cranium.

“I’ll tell you about it as we go,” Maddox said. “Lieutenant, do you have the coordinates to Victory?”

“I just computed them, sir,” Keith said, as he manipulated his board. “But what happened to us with the Temple of Life?”

“That is an excellent question,” Ludendorff said. “And you’d better not know what happened,” he told Maddox.

“I’m afraid I do,” Maddox said, “and so do you, in a way.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ludendorff said.

“You will.”

“What does that mean?” Ludendorff demanded.

Maddox didn’t reply as he hurried to his seat.

“This sounds damned ominous,” Ludendorff said in a huff, “and what happened to Potential Enki? You’d better not know that too.”

“Fold us on the double, Lieutenant,” Maddox told Keith. “We have to keep the starship ours if we’re going to get home.”

“Aye-aye, mate,” Keith said, as he began to tap his board. “But somebody better tell me how we folded to the center of Lucifer but ended up in orbit around the gas giant.”

“I second that,” Ludendorff said. “I hate these kinds of mysteries and I hate it even more that you’re keeping silent about it.”

“Buckle up,” Maddox said, as he clicked on his restraints. “I’ll tell what happened when we have a minute to spare. Now isn’t it.”

***

A winded Captain Maddox plopped into his command chair on the bridge of Victory. He’d raced here from the hangar bay, ignoring Ludendorff’s shouts to tell him what had happened at the Temple of Life.

Maddox accepted a towel from a pretty yeoman, wiping sweat from his face. Then, he downed a cup of water, handed to him by the same woman. He barely noticed.

“Leader Lage isn’t interested in speaking to you, sir,” Valerie said from the comm station. “Lage demands that we open our hangar-bay doors or face certain destruction from the dreadnought lasers.”

Maddox absorbed the information as he caught his breath.

An exhausted Ludendorff staggered through the hatch onto the bridge. “You!” he shouted, pointing at Maddox. “This is grossly unfair. What happened at the Temple of Life?” He panted several seconds before adding, “I demand to know this instant.”

Maddox swiveled his command chair so he could look at the sweating Methuselah Man. Ludendorff must have sprinted after him all the way here. It was surprising the old man was still standing.

As if reading the captain’s thoughts, Ludendorff staggered to an open seat, collapsing onto it. “Water,” he whispered. “I need some water.”

“What should I tell Leader Lage?” Valerie said.

“Tell her that I know how to leave the star system,” Maddox said.

Valerie hesitated.

Maddox swiveled around to face her. “Send the message, Commander.”

“That isn’t going to work this time,” Valerie said.

“What isn’t?”

“Lying to gain time.”

“It’s not a lie,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff raised his head. “You know how to leave the Crowder System?”

“No,” Maddox said.

Both Valerie and Ludendorff frowned at him.

“You know to do it, Professor,” Maddox said.

“Are you mad?” Ludendorff accepted a cup of water from the yeoman, swallowing it, spilling some on his sweaty shirt and somehow managing to leer at her at the same time. The man just never gave up.

“Think about it,” Maddox said. “Think about leaving the star system.”

“It can’t be done,” Ludendorff said.

“Are you thinking about it?” Maddox asked.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Just try thinking about it,” Maddox insisted.

Ludendorff cocked his head. A second later, his eyes opened wide. “By George,” he said in disbelief, “I know how we can go home.”

“Tell Leader Lage I know how to leave the star system,” Maddox told Valerie.

The commander turned to the comm panel, pressed a switch and began to speak.

“My boy,” Ludendorff said. “How could you possibly know that I knew? And how do I know?”

“The guardian told you,” Maddox said. “That must be why you’re missing the headband.”

“You spoke to this guardian?” Ludendorff asked.

“I think so.”

“What kind of confounded answer is that?” Ludendorff complained. “And did it happen while we were in the Temple of Life?”

“In the Outer Courts, anyway,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff groaned. “You mean we actually reached the protected sphere inside the gas giant’s rocky core?”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

“This is unbelievable,” Ludendorff said angrily. “Yet again, I’m cheated at the last minute by your confounded sneaky intriguing ways.”

“Sir,” Valerie said. “Leader Lage is willing to speak to you, but not on the main screen.”

“Oh?” Maddox asked.

“She’ll meet with you in a shuttle between the dreadnoughts and Victory.”

Maddox pondered that, finally nodding. “Tell her that’s acceptable.”

“Just a minute, sir,” Galyan said, as he floated closer. “According to my personality analysis, Leader Lage is going to try to kidnap you while you are in the shuttle, out of Victory’s protection.”

“You’re wrong, Galyan,” Maddox said. “In my estimation, while I’m in the shuttle, Lage is going to try to kill me.”

-86-

Maddox agreed to Leader Lage’s request, but he asked for time to outfit a shuttle. “The shuttles we have took a pounding while the starship was inside the Jotun vessel.”

“That’s doesn’t make sense,” Lage said on the main screen.

“How do you think we launched the antimatter missiles?” Maddox said from his captain’s chair.

“The normal way,” Lage said, “through launch tubes.”

Maddox shook his head. “The dense gases inside the Jotun vessel made that impossible. We had to manually take them outside in the shuttles.”

“That’s ridiculous. How could the shuttles launch into the dense gases any better than missile tubes?”

“Leader Lage,” Maddox said, “were you there when we launched our missiles?”

“I was not, but neither were you.”

“My commander was, and she told me what happened. I’m happy to comply with your conditions for a meeting. Just give us a few hours to repair a shuttle.”

Lage glared at Maddox before glancing to the side at someone unseen on her bridge. When she faced Maddox again, she said, “I’ll grant you two hours. That’s it.”

“Thank you,” Maddox said. “Two hours should prove sufficient.”

“I don’t understand,” Valerie said, once the main screen went blank. “What difference does two hours make?”

Maddox swiveled his command chair to face her. “Remember, I’ve been on the dreadnoughts, on the Autocrat, in any case.”

“The Autocrat was destroyed in the battle against the Jotuns,” Galyan said.

“That’s too bad,” Maddox said. “There were some good people on the ship.” He shook his head. “It can’t be helped, though. The Autocrat is gone, and so are its people. What I learned on the dreadnought was the operation of Crowder society. It was more than a dog-eat-dog world. They’re like the most vicious pirates you can imagine. They climb ranks by killing the people above them. It’s merciless and savage. I expect some of them think it allows the most ruthless and cunning people to rise to the top. Only the strong, coldblooded and calculating survive, in theory, anyway.”

“It sounds horrible,” Valerie said.

Maddox nodded. “Leader Lage has many secret competitors vying to take her position. Some of those others have different ideas and different sponsors. Remember, Lage has made a deal with Meyers. Part of that deal is likely my head or the capture of the starship.”

“Can we pressure Meyers to affect Lage?” Galyan asked.

“I doubt so in this case,” Maddox said. “Instead, we have to remove Lage from power and hope the next person to take her place is more amenable to my proposal.”

“How do we remove Lage from power?” Valerie asked.

Maddox told her and the others.

“But—” Valerie said.

“A moment,” Maddox said, as he held up his right hand. “We can only do as I suggest after Lage botches her assassination attempt against me.”

“How do you propose we do that?” asked Valerie. “I mean to have Lage try and fail to kill you?”

Once more, Maddox told her and the others his plan.

Valerie glanced at Galyan. “What do you think?”

“The plan is not to my liking in one particular,” Galyan said. “But I see its necessity. However, after this is done, how are we going to live in peace with the Crowder people?”

“Ah,” Maddox said. “That’s where Ludendorff comes in.”

“He still claims leaving the system is a long shot,” Galyan said.

Maddox shrugged. “That’s my best idea. Are there any real objections to it?”

“I am not certain I can achieve the necessary duplicity to do what you desire,” Galyan said.

“And that is where two hours of practice should come in handy,” Maddox said.

Galyan turned away, and his eyelids fluttered like crazy. Finally, he regarded the captain. “Your idea just may work, sir. But as you say, I will have to realign many of my circuits. And I think it best to leave the professor out of this operation.”

“Agreed,” Maddox said. “Andros,” he called.

The Kai-Kaus Chief Technician looked up from his science station.

“Could you join us, please?” Maddox said.

Andros rose.

“Even if all this works,” Valerie said. “The starship is barely holding together. If any of the dreadnoughts decide to laser us, we’re done. What’s to stop them from reacting violently against us?”

“The reason we’re doing it this way, Commander,” Maddox said. “We’re merely giving ourselves a plausible excuse, in Crowder eyes anyway.”

“I’m with Galyan,” Valerie said. “I don’t like it.”

“Do you prefer to die?” asked Maddox.

Valerie made a face.

“It’s settled then,” Maddox said. “Andros, come with me. I have some delicate alterations you need to make to some circuitry.”

-87-

Two hours and nine minutes later, a shuttle left Victory’s main hangar bay. It headed away from the Lucifer orbit and toward the three dreadnoughts that had taken up station at a nearby Lagrange Point.

As part of the parley condition, no patrol boats were in the vicinity.

The shuttle limped along; the techs that had worked on the craft having made it worse, not better. So far, no Crowder shuttle or patrol boat had left any of the dreadnoughts.

From Victory, Valerie called the Tyrant, Leader Lage’s flagship. “We’re following your conditions. But I have yet to see your shuttle leave the Tyrant.”

“There has been a slight delay,” Lage said from the main screen.

“That is unacceptable,” Valerie said. “We’ve acted…we’ve acted in good faith. We demand that you do the same.”

“Demand?” asked Lage, as she arched an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting word for you to use, don’t you agree?”

“Are you stalling, Leader?” Valerie asked.

“Do you accuse me of stalling?” Lage asked.

Valerie licked her lips, appearing nervous. “No…”

“Good, Commander. I would hate to have to break off negotiations at this delicate moment because of a lack of protocol on your part.”

“We’re offering you a means of leaving the star system,” Valerie said.

Lage laughed. “Did you really think I believed that? The claim is a lie.”

“Why else do you think the captain is coming out to meet you?”

“The captain…” Lage said. “I’ve been told he’s clever and deceptive. I believe I shall contact him on the shuttle. You may watch along if you like.”

“I feel I should warn you,” Valerie said. “Threats won’t work against Captain Maddox.”

“As I said, watch if you like. I believe it will be beneficial for you to hear how amiable your captain can be under the right conditions.”

From the captain’s chair on the bridge, Valerie made a motion. The main screen split in two, one half showing Lage on her bridge and the other…Captain Maddox appearing from the shuttle’s piloting chair.

“I don’t see your shuttle,” Maddox said to Lage, his communications open with her, and visible and audible to Valerie. Maddox’s inflection seemed different from normal, more nasal than usual.

“Do you have a cold, Captain?” Lage asked, with amusement in her voice.

There was a short delay, then, “The heating is on and off in the shuttle,” Maddox said. “If you’d given me another hour, my people could have repaired that, too.”

“It won’t matter,” Lage said.

Maddox sat up. “Are you a Leader of your word, Lage?”

“Are you daring to question me?”

“You gave an oath,” Maddox said.

“Really, Captain, did you not spend several weeks aboard the Autocrat?”

“You know I did.”

“Did you learn nothing about our ways, hmm?”

“If you don’t launch your shuttle soon,” Maddox said, “I’m turning my craft around and heading back to Victory.”

“Are you beginning to feel frightened, Captain?”

“I trusted you,” Maddox said.

“Then the more fool you,” Lage said, as she leaned forward on the screen. “A leader must be cunning, not a trusting retard.”

“Listen to me, Leader,” Maddox said earnestly. “I have a way out of the Crowder System. Think about that. Your people have been trapped here for generations. I know how to leave.”

“You can break through the barrier?” Lage asked in a scoffing manner.

“No,” Maddox said, “but I know how to bypass it. In fact, I have a device capable of transporting a fleet of ships all the way to the Solar System. That is where Earth is, your people’s planet of origin.”

“Cross two hundred thousand light-years, Captain?” Lage said in a mocking voice. “You have a means of sending this fleet over such a vast distance?”

“Once,” Maddox said. “It will only work once.”

“You lie!”

“No,” Maddox said. “It is the truth. It’s such a fantastic truth that I’m trusting you to have enough curiosity to come and see for yourself. Send your shuttle. I guarantee your safety.”

“Poor, Captain. The only reason I don’t demolish your starship this instant is that I first desire Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers to leave it. I will ransom you for her.”

Maddox shook his head. “No deal.”

“If you refuse to deal with me, Captain, you’ll die. Check with your people. My main lasers have targeted your shuttle. The laser batteries are already powering up. If you do not make the trade immediately, your life is forfeit.”

“No deal,” Maddox said again.

“If you think I’m bluffing—”

“I don’t think you’re such an ass as that,” Maddox said, interrupting her. “Or let me use your terminology. I don’t believe you’re that retarded. I’m offering you a glorious future. Meyers has no future. One way or another, the Methuselah Woman must face a Star Watch tribunal for her heinous actions in the past.”

“You are under my lasers, Captain. Think well upon that.”

“I have come in good faith,” Maddox said.

“You’re a dupe. You have thirty seconds to make the right decision.”

“Leader Lage,” Maddox said. “Let me warn you. If you destroy this shuttle, you will die. That is a firm edict from Star Watch, its certain justice. We deal justly with those who deal justly with us. We deal savagely with those who misuse our good faith.”

“Words,” Lage said.

“We will prove ourselves with our deeds.”

“You’ll be dead.”

“I won’t, Lage. I’m warning you.”

“Your warning has removed twenty seconds from your last few.”

“This is your last chance, Lage. Reconsider. Meyers is an even more treacherous ally than you.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Lage said. “Die, Captain Maddox, and good riddance to you.”

With that, three heavy laser batteries from the Tyrant flashed the short distance to the Victory shuttle. The beams struck true and in seconds, the shuttle exploded into pieces, the beams turning those pieces into molten slag.

The split screen on Victory’s bridge turned back into one. On it, Lage gloated. “Did you see, Commander? Your vaunted Captain Maddox is dead at last. He was a fool to come out here. Now, you must listen to me or share his fate.”

“No,” Valerie said, her breath taken away. “You need to listen to me.”

“Fool of a commander, one word and all three dreadnoughts will destroy your paltry vessel. Victory took devastating damage against the Jotun ship and cannot possibly withstand more.”

Valerie sat up and squared her shoulders. Her mouth was dry, but she said sternly, “You knowingly lied to us. Now, I’m afraid, you must die in turn.”

“What vanity is this?” Lage laughed, perhaps in astonishment.

“You’re going to find out in three seconds.”

Lage blinked once, twice and shook her head. “I’ll give you longer than that. But then, because of your vain stupidity, I will destroy your warship, unless—” She held up a finger. “You recant your statement and beg for mercy.”

“Good-bye, Leader Lage,” Valerie said.

-88-

Less than ten minutes ago, aboard the shuttle launched from Victory’s hangar bay, Galyan had appeared in customary holoimage form. He’d appeared not as an Adok Driving Force, but as a human, as Captain Maddox. Galyan had posed as a Maddox holoimage at the shuttle’s piloting controls. The craft had a preset flight pattern as it headed for the rendezvous point between the starship and dreadnoughts.

Galyan had spoken the words as Maddox, fed directly from the captain as he sat in the main AI Chamber aboard Victory. Even earlier, Andros had worked on the holo-imager until it could show a holoimage as Maddox. It had proven a surprisingly difficult task and had taken every extra minute over the two hours deadline. In fact, the shuttle had left the starship without the holoimage in it.

Thus, as the Tyrant’s lasers destroyed the shuttle, Galyan as holoimage Maddox had simply vanished. The Tyrant had destroyed an empty shuttle, but no one on the other side knew that.

Now, Galyan used the range of the holo-imager, appearing on the bridge of the Tyrant. The shape of the bridge was quite different from Victory’s bridge, but Galyan was able to spot Leader Lage sitting in her command chair.

Galyan had arrived in ghost mode, floating toward Lage as she gloated.

“The stupid fool,” Lage told her chief officers. “Maddox was supposed to be cunning—”

“Leader Lage,” Galyan intoned, using Captain Maddox’s voice and image.

Lage turned, eyes wide with shock. “What is this? You’re dead.”

“I am the ghost of Captain Maddox, and I fulfill my oaths even after death.”

“What?” Lage shouted, turning to the others. “Are any of you seeing this?”

One buff guard did, pulling out a laser pistol and firing. Naturally, the beam harmlessly passed through the Maddox holoimage.

Lage shouted hoarsely in fright.

“I am taking you in death with me,” Galyan-Maddox shouted. “Die, Leader Lage.”

Galyan as Maddox floated into Lage, and he discharged with all the voltage at his disposal, doing so from the machine in the main AI chamber aboard Victory.

Lage screamed as the voltage fried her flesh and burned internal organs. She screamed horribly and writhed off her command chair, to begin to smolder on the deck.

Galyan/Maddox floated up out of her. He pointed an accusing finger at the stunned onlookers. “I swore to have my vengeance. I am the Great Captain Maddox, the di-far of Star Watch. I can slay you others with as much ease as I did that liar. Make your peace with Commander Valerie Noonan if you can. Find a leader who has enough sense to trust those of Star Watch to take you from this vile star system.”

The others looked at the smoldering Leader Lage twitching horribly in death.

“How…what just happened?” a muscular man asked.

“Leader Lage played false with Maddox,” Galyan said in the captain’s voice. “I wish to know this, however. Who now rules the flotilla, and who wishes to take his or her people back to Earth with those of Victory?”

With that, Galyan vanished from the Tyrant’s bridge.

***

The new dreadnought flotilla leader tried to demand conditions from Victory. She died while speaking to Valerie, fried to death by the Maddox holoimage doing as it had before.

The next new leader, the muscular man who’d asked Galyan-Maddox the question, shoved the dead woman off the chair, taking her place. He sat down in the vacated seat and regarded Valerie on the main screen.

“Can you really take a fleet of ships back to Earth?” he asked.

“Yes,” Valerie said.

“You swear this?”

“Yes.”

The muscular man nodded. He turned sharply, however, at the sound of beam fire. He even drew his laser pistol, firing in one direction and then another. A laser beam flashed past him, missing.

Soon, he faced Valerie again.

“Are you all right?” Valerie asked.

“Fine,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “There was a small altercation. I suggest we speak again in a few hours. It appears I must consolidate my position.”

“As you wish,” Valerie said.

A moment later, the main screen went blank.

Valerie swiveled the captain’s chair to regard Maddox sitting in the comm seat. “You guessed right, sir. It’s mayhem over there.”

Maddox nodded.

“Do you think that will give us the needed time to make enough repairs to Victory?” Valerie asked.

“We’re going to find out,” Maddox said.

“What happens once they find out you’re alive?”

“We make sure that doesn’t happen until we’re home.”

“Sir…” Valerie said. “I don’t see how we have the means to achieve your magic feat of going home again?”

Maddox inhaled through his nostrils. “It isn’t up to me, but to Ludendorff. Let’s hope he remembers what the guardian told him.”

-89-

Professor Ludendorff paced back and forth in his laboratory aboard Victory as he contemplated his next move.

Did he really have an idea about how to get home? That is, did he know how to travel over two hundred thousand light-years in one bound? Theoretically, he did know. It would use the asteroid-moon that had caused them so much anguish earlier. That is, if the so-called guardian had told him truthfully about the strange moon—that in fact it was an ancient artifact. Could he trust his thoughts on that? Could he trust the captain about what had happened in the Outer Courts?

I’m a Methuselah Man. The Temple of Life sounds amazing to me, the most important Builder construction ever made. Can I just walk away from that? Shouldn’t I enter the Temple and speak to this guardian with all my wits about me? Does Builder Enki need my help? I’d like to talk to Enki, if I could.

Ludendorff massaged his broad forehead. Maddox always had the last say about everything. Maddox always made the final move to conquest. Sure, it would take a Methuselah Man’s genius to make the bound home into reality. No human had ever used an artifact or machine of any type to make such a grand journey as the one planned. He would save the Crowder people, too.

Ludendorff inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. Did he owe Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers anything? She was one of his kind: a unique group of people. What would happen to her if they reached Earth? Would Star Watch imprison her or have her executed as Maddox had threatened? Did Star Watch still have a death penalty? Could they execute Meyers in good conscience? She’d never been a citizen of the Commonwealth, but she’d worked for the Prime Minster of the Commonwealth once. She’d been a spy of sorts. Could Star Watch execute Meyers as a spy?

“This should be an easy decision for me,” Ludendorff told himself.

Suddenly, Galyan appeared in the lab. “You look troubled, Professor.”

Ludendorff ceased pacing and squinted suspiciously. “Did Maddox send you to hound me?”

“No,” Galyan said. “What would make you ask that?”

“You appeared after I spoke.”

“I am attempting to be polite,” Galyan said.

“So, you’re spying on me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I watch everyone aboard the starship. Surely, you know that. It is part of my function.”

Ludendorff made a “harrumph” sound, once more beginning to pace. He shook his head. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit.”

“Do you mean the captain’s preemptory ways?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I mean.”

“What are your intentions then?”

Ludendorff turned around, once again squinting suspiciously at the holoimage. “Tell me. Did you feel bad killing Lage?”

“No.”

“It was murder.”

“I do not agree. It was war, and diplomacy. The captain gave her fair warning regarding her intentions. She broke her solemn word and reaped her just reward.”

“Hmm,” Ludendorff said. “In any case, I want to go the Temple of Life. I want to see this wonder for myself. Maddox did.”

“I thought the captain told us he only reached the Outer Courts.”

“There’s the rub,” Ludendorff said. “He told us this.”

“I see. You believe he lied about it.”

Ludendorff rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know, confound it. Just once, I’d like to make him squirm, make him jealous about something I did.”

“Does it help that everyone aboard Victory is counting on you?”

Ludendorff studied the holoimage. “Admit it, Galyan. The captain sent you.”

“Professor, many people are already rioting on Crowder III, fighting to get on any available spaceship. They long to leave this star system. Now, you are wondering if you should stay here?”

“Stay long enough to explore the Temple of Life.”

“That may no longer be possible,” Galyan said.

“I’m a Methuselah Man. Anything is possible if I put my mind to it.”

“Ah. I see. This is a question of loyalty.”

“What?” Ludendorff said.

“Whom do you serve, Professor? Do you serve the Builders or humanity?”

“Why does it have to be either?”

“We know the captain’s allegiance. He fights for the Commonwealth of Planets. He resists the Builders when they resist us. The captain has also saved your life many times.”

“Just as I’ve saved his,” Ludendorff said.

“You can save his and many other human lives if you do this.”

Ludendorff pointed at Galyan. “That does it. You’re working for Maddox. You’re here to persuade me, doing it at his request.”

“Actually, it is in my own enlightened self-interest to persuade you. I want to return to the Commonwealth, as it is near my home planet.”

“Adok is far from the Commonwealth, and it’s not a planet anymore, but a pile of rubble.”

“That was unkind, Professor.”

Ludendorff scowled.

“The pile of rubble that was once my home planet is much closer to the Commonwealth than it is here.”

Ludendorff turned away. “Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? This might be the chance of a lifetime. It actually hurts me to think about leaving here.”

“We are lucky to even have the possibility to leave.”

“The Temple of Life, Galyan,” Ludendorff said. “I doubt we’ll ever be this far out again. If I leave, I likely leave for good.”

“The artifact, or the great machine on the moon, is only good for one use.”

“I know that,” Ludendorff said. “That’s why this is such an agonizing decision.”

Galyan nodded. “Have you considered this, Professor? Do you still desire to see Dana Rich?”

Ludendorff whirled around. “You little, bastard, that was a low blow.”

“It was only a question.”

“I suppose this is your way of getting back at me for saying your planet is a pile of space rubble. You know I love Dana.”

“Yes,” Galyan said. “I do know that.”

Ludendorff’s eyes widened. “You know?”

“I have charted your personality just as I have everyone else’s. Yes. You love Dana dearly, Professor, but you’re too stubborn to admit that to yourself. Until you go back to her, you will never be happy.”

“Bah!”

“It is also eating you up,” Galyan said.

“What is?”

“Your endless parade of lovers,” Galyan said. “Do you not realize that you leave a piece of yourself with each of the women you love? Soon, you will have no more pieces of yourself to give, and then you will be empty.”

“Now you’re a moralizer?” Ludendorff said in disbelief.

“No. I analyze behavior.”

“Bah,” Ludendorff said, but with less force than before.

“You are an interesting study, Professor. Well, I must leave.”

“Go, go,” Ludendorff said, waving him away.

Galyan disappeared.

***

The little Adok holoimage appeared before the captain in a lounge chair as the man sipped a beer.

“How did it go?” Maddox asked.

“He is undecided,” Galyan said. “And he accused me several times of working at your behest.”

“What did you say then?”

“I pulled a Maddox and spoke about other things.”

“And?” asked Maddox.

“I hit below the belt. I told him he loved Dana Rich.”

Maddox raised his eyebrows and took a healthy swallow of beer. “Loving Meta sure compels me.”

“We all know that, sir.”

“I wonder if loving Dana Rich is going to compel the greatest lover in the galaxy.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” asked Galyan.

Maddox’s eyes shined with mischief as he took another sip of beer. “I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.”

“What will we do in the meantime?”

“Wait for the professor to make up his complex mind,” Maddox said.

“You seem calm about it.”

Maddox nodded, not telling Galyan about the gray slate he’d taken from the dead Ardazirho in the Outer Courts. If Ludendorff chose wrong, Maddox was leaving by a different route.

-90-

Thirty-eight days after Leader Lage died by voltage on the bridge of the Tyrant, the grand armada of spaceships from Crowder III arrived in the general vicinity of Lucifer. There were many dreadnoughts, transports, haulers, sloops, garbage tugs and private vessels. Several million people crewed or were passengers aboard the ships. A few small spaceships lofted from Moloch, the passengers believing the news that Star Watch would open a gate of sorts, allowing those who wished to leave the star system.

Thirty-two days ago, Professor Ludendorff had agreed to do this. To that end, he and a team of techs with Andros Crank had slipped onto the asteroid-moon. That had been an adventure. Fortunately, they’d found the surface secret entrance as the guardian had said and had been enthralled at the kilometers of corridors and endless waiting machines. The more Ludendorff worked to repair them, the more knowledge he acquired from his guardian-given memories.

After four weeks of endless repair, the black-hole generator was online and ready. It would create a momentary event horizon as used by Potential Enki to send Victory here. However, it was a one-time item, as the synthetic black hole would devour the machinery and even the asteroid-moon.

It was highly advanced technology, and Ludendorff realized he would not retain much of it. Yes, he took notes. So did Andros. But so much of the technology was so far above their understanding that it truly felt as if they were wizards working on an ancient incantation of incredible complexity.

Ludendorff would say, “Do it this way,” or “Rotate it around and add the flux matrix to the infinity equation.”

That had often meant Andros or the techs staring at the professor in bafflement. That in turn had meant Ludendorff had to do most of the operations himself. It was taxing, and he’d lost twelve pounds since starting the repairs.

“No one knows how hard I’ve worked,” Ludendorff complained one night to Galyan. “I’m their slave, their buffoon who scampers to their whims.”

“You’re the only genius that could do this,” Galyan replied.

“I know, I know,” Ludendorff whispered. “I never realized being so qualified meant such slavery. When you’re as great as I am, others pale into nothing.”

“You bear such burdens,” Galyan said.

Ludendorff looked up from here he’d lain down. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“What?” Galyan said. “No. I am agreeing with you. You are a marvel, Professor, a prodigy of a Methuselah Man.”

“Yes,” Ludendorff said. “It’s true, all too true. And what kind of thanks do I get?”

“Crowder babies are already being named after you,” Galyan said.

Ludendorff raised his head again. “Truly?”

“Should I tell them to stop doing that?”

Ludendorff cocked his head. “I am unique, and my name means one of a kind. But no, let them continue.” He smiled sadly. “It’s touching.” Ludendorff laid his head back and closed his eyes, soon snoring.

***

Three days later, a haggard and thinner Ludendorff cornered Maddox in a corridor on Victory.

“There you are! Where have you been hiding?”

Maddox turned around to face a red-faced and red-eyed Ludendorff. There were splotches on the professor’s skinny face and a grease stain on his chin.

“I’ve been attending to business,” Maddox said mildly.

“Didn’t Valerie tell you I needed to speak to you?”

Maddox nodded.

“Well?” Ludendorff demanded. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t.”

“Why didn’t you call me back?”

“I’ve been too busy,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff’s eyes widened. “You’ve been too busy? What do think I’ve been doing?”

“Your job, I hope,” Maddox said. “When do we leave?”

Ludendorff just stared at Maddox, his features turning redder and angrier. “I ought to knock you down, just punch you in the face and see how you like that.”

“Not much,” Maddox said mildly.

“You don’t think I can?”

“Punch me in the face? Sure, why not?”

“You don’t think I’ll dare?”

“You look angry enough,” Maddox said. “What’s the problem?”

“Now you’re willing to listen, eh? Now when violence threatens you?”

“You’re violence personified?”

Ludendorff shouted with rage and swung at Maddox.

Maddox saw the blow coming. He might have tried to dodge, but he didn’t. He took the punch on his left cheek, and he stepped back as his cheek turned red.

“Ah-ha!” cried Ludendorff. “You son of a bitch, I’ve wanted to do that for a long, long time.” Even as Ludendorff spoke, he shook the hand he’d used to hit the captain. Then, he sucked on the bruised knuckles. “Next time, you’ll know to call me back.”

“Yes,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff quit sucking on his knuckles and raised his busy eyebrows. “That’s it? You’re not going to strike back?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Ludendorff scowled, and he opened his mouth, perhaps to ask if the punch had hurt or not. Instead, he closed his mouth. Maybe he wasn’t ready for the answer.

“I’m exhausted like you,” Maddox said, as he dutifully touched his red cheek. He winced as if it hurt. “It feels like I’m living in a land of unreality. The Crowder armada—” He shook his head. “There are endless stabbings, chokings, poisonings, gunshots like you wouldn’t believe over there. People are brutally jockeying for position and power. I’ve had my hands full trying to bolster those who favor leaving the star system. That’s not even mentioning Meyers and her subtle games. Did you know that General Lucas Locus has gone back to supporting her?”

“You’re kidding.”

Maddox shook his head. “The intrigue taking place around us is mindboggling. It’s a witch’s brew, a land of unreality. I’ve begun to wonder if it might be better leaving the Crowder people here.”

“That would break your word to the guardian.”

“One of the few reasons I’m going to take them with us.”

“What are the others’ reasons?”

“Professor, I suggest you change the trajectory of the grand jump home.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe a half light-year from Earth,” Maddox said. “The Crowder vessels lack star-drive jumps or even Laumer Point generators—not that the generators would help them half a light-year from Earth. The extra distance will give us time to rush to Earth and explain the situation to Star Watch. That will give them time to decide how they want to deal with the Crowder people influx into the Commonwealth.”

“You think the Crowder people would be foolish enough to take on Star Watch?”

“I’m not sure I’ve discovered each of Meyers’s ploys. She’s clever, and more than that, she’s dangerous.”

“She’s a Methuselah Woman,” Ludendorff said.

Maddox nodded, wanting to say, “Yes, that means a royal pain in the ass.” But he decided to keep the opinion to himself.

“What do you think the Lord High Admiral will do with Meyers?” Ludendorff asked.

“If he’s wise,” Maddox said, “he’ll hang her by the neck.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Maddox didn’t reply.

“We can’t start executing our enemies,” Ludendorff said.

“Why not?”

“Now see here—”

“Save it,” Maddox said, interrupting. “We’re not dealing with ordinary criminals but with—”

“One cannot simply murder unarmed, captured enemy combatants,” Ludendorff said in a huff. “That would be barbaric.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Maddox said. “But we’re not dealing with ordinary people. We’re dealing with a woman who had slain billions, demolished planets and wants to exterminate the entire human race. She has continuously sought the means to achieve her vicious end. Yes, the death penalty is in order, if only to save us from future catastrophes.”

Ludendorff stared at the deck, finally running a hand through his thick white hair. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m exhausted. I’m not sure the artifact will act in the way you want. So many things can go wrong.”

“How long until you’re ready to give it a try?”

Ludendorff shrugged. “I’m as ready as I can be. We could do it tomorrow.”

Maddox became thoughtful. “Three days then, we’ll launch in three days.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“If we don’t try soon, there will be chaos in the Crowder armada.”

Ludendorff coughed hoarsely. Once he was done coughing, he gathered phlegm and spat it on the floor. “I know that’s disgusting. But I’m tired, and I’ve become sick.”

“Three days?” asked Maddox.

“Why not?”

“Good work, Professor,” Maddox said, as he clapped the Methuselah Man on the shoulder.

Ludendorff flinched. Maybe he’d expected a punch in the face instead. Then, he shuffled off, coughing as he went.

-91-

Three days later, the huge fleet of disparate spaceships, the massive dreadnoughts and lesser Crowder naval vessels, haulers of varying sizes, transports, tugs, sloops, hundreds of private space-worthy craft and many not-so-space-worthy gathered in a packed mass within fifty kilometers of the asteroid-moon.

There were desperate calls from people on Crowder III who’d changed their mind and now wanted to join the exodus. Others of Moloch begged another day so they could use converted missiles to join the leave-taking.

Maddox said no. They were leaving on the set date and that was final.

A host of killings took place in the Crowder fleet. New leaders and commanders demanded new terms.

Maddox cajoled, made promises, begged and used Crowder commanders in a show of dreadnought force to cow others. He finally gave in and said he would wait.

That brought a semblance of calm to the fleet.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Valerie said on the bridge.

Maddox swiveled around to stare at her.

Soon, Valerie reddened. “We’re not waiting like you said?”

“Missiles converted to spaceships?” asked Maddox. “Don’t you realize it’s a last-ditch Meyers attempt to attack the exodus?”

“How do you know?” Valerie said.

“It is true as the captain says.” Galyan turned to Maddox. “The Methuselah Woman and General Locus are now in stasis as you ordered, sir. I suspect they still have operatives loose, however, some possibly on Victory.”

“That’s yet another reason why we’re not waiting,” Maddox told Valerie.

“Sir,” Andros said from his station. “Professor Ludendorff is ready.”

“Put him on the main screen,” Maddox said, as he swiveled his chair to face it.

Ludendorff appeared on the screen. He was in his laboratory, sitting among a complex circle of controls. “The mass of dust-debris is probably helping us,” he said. “I think many of the Crowder vessels don’t understand the signals coming from the artifact moon.”

“Has the process begun?” asked Maddox.

“Oh, yes, my boy,” Ludendorff said. “It will be another hour before the black-hole generator cranks up enough force, though. At that point, we will use the event horizon and be thrown over two hundred thousand light-years. It will be a marvel if we reach a point half a light-year from Earth. You do understand how nearly impossible such accuracy should be?”

“Maybe,” Maddox said, “but I’m talking to the Methuselah Man of Methuselah Men.”

Ludendorff actually squared his shoulders. “My being here is the one point in our favor, my boy. We’re about to make history.”

“You are,” Maddox said.

“Yes,” Ludendorff said. “It’s true. I was simply trying to be polite.”

“I’m sure Dana is going to enjoy the new and improved Ludendorff,” Maddox said.

Ludendorff grinned. Then, he turned to a different screen. “I hope to see you on the other side, my boy.”

“Good-luck, sir,” Maddox said, saluting.

Ludendorff nodded. Then, the main screen went blank.

“Don’t you think you were putting it on a little thick?” Valerie asked.

Maddox swiveled toward her. “With an ordinary person, maybe, but not with the genius of a Methuselah Man.”

Valerie shook her head, muttering as she turned away.

Maddox crooked a finger at Galyan. The holoimage floated near. “Take a quick peek inside the moon. Make sure everything is generating as it should be.”

“Yes, sir,” Galyan said, disappearing.

***

Sometime after Galyan reported to Maddox, the strange mechanisms and machines inside the asteroid-artifact-moon synchronized at an atomic level. Vast forces burned and coalesced, and a ball of energy in the center of the moon collapsed as atoms surged together. In seconds, a black hole appeared.

Other machines inside the outer corridors activated perfectly as the ancients had once designed them. Ludendorff and his team had made the repairs nearly to perfection. The guardian would no doubt have been pleased.

The ancient great machine performed its function, and energy built up, changed into quantum power and then encompassed the mighty gathering of spaceships. Highly advanced computers made choices at the atomic level. The computations—more were made in these few seconds than humanity had made in its entirety throughout its existence.

A blast of power surged, and the process leapt into being. With the event horizon, the exotic force circled the spaceships and propelled them—

Science as known by humans, Methuselah People and even Builders jumped out the window. This was Yon Soth wizardry mimicking science. It was predawn knowledge. The power at work devoured the asteroid-moon; it devoured the black hole, which should have been impossible. Human science would have said it was impossible.

But this was the inhuman science of the Old Ones, utilizing forces as yet unknown by the others.

Unfortunately for those on Moloch, the released energy devoured the dust-debris and set up a chain reaction. Ancient properties acted like cosmic power. Space fire, in lieu of a better term, fell upon the molten lava sea of Moloch and licked it into oblivion, as a nuclear blast would destroy a city. That created more ordinary but powerful explosions, and Moloch cracked, cracked further and exploded with titanic force.

The combination of exotic power and antimatter blasts reached the gas giant of Lucifer, and another torrent of mass fed the consuming process. In a mere moment of time, the great atmosphere of Lucifer boiled away and was consumed.

It might have destroyed the rocky core inside, but a counterforce of unknown type reached up and protected the core, no doubt saving the Temple of Life inside.

The vast energies soon burned out all the combustible mass, which included all the other Lucifer moons. Massive radiation flowed outward in all directions. Given a few hours, all those left on Crowder III would die.

No humans would live in the star system. The other planets would survive, as would the star. The only technological item of Yon Soth manufacture that would remain was inside the Temple of Life in the Outer Courts.

As for Victory and the Crowder fleet, the armada, it was on its way for the other side of the Milky Way Galaxy.

-92-

Those aboard Victory had a better idea about what to expect at the end of the journey—provided they survived it—than any of the Crowder people.

Ludendorff had sought a way to make the journey easier than the one that had brought them into the Crowder System. In that regard, he succeeded wonderfully.

A gentle form of jump lag affected the many crews. Victory’s people recovered faster due to their experience.

Maddox leaned forward on the captain’s chair, tense expectation straining his features. Had they reached anywhere near the Commonwealth of Planets? Had they even reached the Orion Spiral Arm? The waiting was agony. He wanted to sit back and appear calm. For once, he could not do it.

“Meta,” he whispered, “Jewel.”

“Sir,” Galyan said. “We survived the joinery.”

Maddox nodded tensely, unable to take his eyes off the main screen. None of the rest of the bridge crew was functional yet. As soon as they were, Maddox would give the order to scan and determine their present location.

“We are not in the targeted location,” Galyan said.

Maddox turned his head as if his neck was rusted. “Where are we?” he asked hoarsely. “Do you know?”

“Not with one hundred percent accuracy,” Galyan said. “But I can give you an approximate distance.”

“Do it,” Maddox said, his voice even more hoarse than before.

“Remember, it is an approximation.”

“Galyan…” Maddox said in a pleading tone.

“Oh. You are tense. Yes, of course. You are worried.”

“Where are we?” Maddox roared, his eyes bulging.

“Midway between the new Alpha Centauri System and the Solar System,” Galyan said.

That sank into Maddox’s brain. “We made it?”

“Not a half light-year from Earth,” Galyan said. “It is more than two light-years from Earth.”

Maddox jumped out of his seat and whooped with delight as he flung his arms into the air. The captain actually did a little jig, laughing with delight, overwhelmed with the understanding that they’d made it back. They were almost home. Meta and Jewel were within reach.

Not if you don’t pull it together and get the hell out of here, Maddox realized.

That broke through his jubilation and brought him back down. He found the crew staring at him. That was okay. A man could cut loose in joy now and again, but especially when what was lost was found again.

He sat in the captain’s chair and began to issue orders.

The crew shook off their amazement at Maddox’s uncharacteristic actions and functioned as one.

It meant that Victory used its star-drive jump and leapt a half light-year away from the Crowder vessels. It also meant that Maddox foiled any treacherous actions against them.

He stood upon shaking off the normal jump lag. Then, he left the bridge and hurried to the Builder Comm Device. He was going to contact the Lord High Admiral and give the news in a nutshell.

“I’m almost home,” Maddox whispered. He smiled. He laughed, and then he increased his pace for the Comm Device Chamber.

***

For the moment, the Lord High Admiral was content to let the Crowder people get used to the idea that they had crossed the galaxy in a bound and were near their ancestral planet. Soon enough, the strategists of Star Watch would develop a plan of action for dealing with the Crowder people. The bigger problem was dealing with Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers.

“Bring her straight to Geneva Headquarters, Captain,” the Lord High Admiral said. “Whatever we’re going to do, I suspect we will do it quickly.”

“I feel I should inform you about one another matter concerning Meyers.”

“Oh,” Lord High Admiral Cook said.

Maddox told him.

“I see,” Cook said. “That was clever. I’m surprised Meyers fell for it.”

“The need for it likely compelled her to grasp at straws, sir,” Maddox said.

“I imagine you’re right. There is one other thing you might not realize.”

“Sir?” asked Maddox.

“I’m guessing it’s a function of the event horizon drive or jump,” Cook said. “But since you first left for the professor’s place at Omicron Nine, two years and two months have passed.”

“Sir?” asked Maddox, stunned and horrified at the news. “Is…are Meta and Jewel all right?”

“To the best of my knowledge,” Cook said, “although I believe I heard they moved from Hawaii or Kauai to Nevada Sector.”

Maddox stifled back a sob of joy.

“In any case, I’m glad you and your crew are alive, Captain. Some of us had started to give up hope.”

Maddox could not reply. He was too stunned at the news. He had to get home now, right away.

“Are you there?” Cook asked.

“I’m coming in fast, sir.”

“I understand, and you have my permission to do so.”

“I have to go,” Maddox said. Before Admiral Cook could answer, he cut the connection and shot to his feet. Two years and two mouths had passed? He swallowed a lump in his throat and staggered for the hatch. He had to get home pronto.

-93-

It should have all been routine, the trip to Earth. It was not, however, as Captain Maddox drove them hard. He sat in his chair on the bridge like a man of flint, his eyes staring into the distance whenever he wasn’t barking orders and demanding perfection.

Valerie tried to talk him down.

He ignored her.

Galyan spoke.

Maddox nodded once, but otherwise ignored the little holoimage.

As they appeared at the required distance from Earth and began the journey for orbital parking, a hand fell upon the captain’s shoulder.

As Maddox turned his head to see who’d dared to touch him—expecting Ludendorff—he was unsurprised to see Sergeant Riker. The sergeant did not speak, but simply looked ahead at the main screen.

Maddox stared at the old dog of a sergeant. The man’s leathery features did not betray a thing. Maddox opened his mouth to tell Riker to get his hand off him. Instead, appreciating the kind gesture, realizing that Riker sympathized with him and silently grieved with him, Maddox faced forward, the hand still on his shoulder.

Perhaps ten seconds later, Riker gave the shoulder a squeeze. Then, he removed his hand and must have turned to go—

Maddox could hear the rustle of fabric. “Sergeant,” he said, without turning around.

“Yes, sir?” Riker said.

“You’re a good man.”

“Thank you, sir. We appreciate you, too.”

“I mean it.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“I…I hope you continue to serve on the starship. You’re needed.”

“Thank you. I hope you do too.”

Maddox did not reply.

“Give my best to Meta and Jewel,” Riker said.

Maddox’s throat convulsed. He gave the barest of nods.

“Will you need me to pilot you down to Earth?”

“Yes…” Maddox said.

“Very good, sir. I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

Maddox stood up. “No, Sergeant. I’ll walk to the hangar bay with you. Commander Noonan, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir,” Valerie said.

With that, Maddox turned and walked with Riker to the exit.

***

There were no unusual incidents as Victory parked in Earth orbit. A hangar bay door opened, a shuttle left, heading down.

Soon thereafter, a second shuttle headed down. This one picked up fighter escorts as it transported Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers for Star Watch Headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland Sector.

The first shuttle zoomed fast but remained within emergency velocity limits. It headed for a spaceport in Reno, Nevada Sector.

Soon enough, the shuttle landed. Before it had come to complete stop, a hatch opened and a man in a Star Watch captain’s uniform leapt out, landing on the run, turning and sprinting for a parked flitter on the tarmac.

The keys were in the ignition, left there an hour ago by Star Watch space marines.

Captain Maddox leaped into the pilot’s seat, switched on the flitter and took her up. He flew from Reno Spaceport without informing the tower authorities.

In this case, there was no problem. A delegation from the Lord High Admiral’s office watched the proceedings, making sure everything went smoothly for the flitter.

Maddox exceeded the speed limit as he headed for the outskirts of Carson City. He’d learned that Meta had purchased a former cattle ranch three months ago.

Maddox had seen pictures of the ranch and house. He passed low over mountaintops, seeing South Lake Tahoe on one side and Carson City on the other. He banked for Carson City and saw the ranch house. It was two-story, with a horse barn within walking distance. Meta loved to ride horses.

As gently as Maddox could, he landed the flitter in the area for diesel trucks. Before the flitter had settled, Maddox leapt out and sprinted for the front door.

It opened. Meta stood there in a lovely, clinging black dress that highlighted every curve.

Maddox shouted as tears filmed his eyes. He saw the little girl standing beside Meta. Jewel had dirty-blonde hair and a frilly black dress to match her mother. She had Meta’s eyes and nose, and the mold of her cheeks—they reminded Maddox of Mary O’Hara, his grandmother.

Meta knelt and spoke to Jewel. Jewel nodded, let go of Meta’s hand and ran down the steps.

“Daddy!” Jewel shouted, holding out her small hands.

“Jewel,” Maddox said. He swept her up into his arms and kissed her soft cheeks. “Oh, Jewel, oh my little darling. I’m so happy to be home. I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy too, Daddy.”

Maddox did not weep. He was too filled with joy, with love. He looked up, seeing tears streaming down Meta’s face. He walked with Jewel in his arms, going up the steps. Still holding Jewel, he hugged Meta.

She gripped him fiercely, hugging him so hard his ribs shifted.

Jewel laughed with delight, putting her small arms around her mommy and daddy’s heads.

Maddox kissed his wife. “I missed you both so much.”

“I love you,” Meta said.

“I love you, dearest,” he said to Meta. “And I love you so much darling,” he told Jewel, kissing her cheeks again.

“Come inside,” Meta said.

“Yes,” Maddox said. He hefted his baby girl in his left arm, holding Meta’s hand with his right. Then, the three of them entered their house, closing the door behind them.

-94-

And there the latest mission should have ended. Normally, that would have been the case. However, Maddox had to leave the house three days later to attend the end of the court hearing for Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers. Maddox was going to give testimony.

Meta went with him. Mary O’Hara babysat Jewel.

The courthouse was at headquarters in Geneva, as it was the easiest place to defend.

Maddox and Meta entered the courtroom at nine o’clock in the morning, Geneva Time. Many from Victory were there, including Galyan. Professor Ludendorff had declined coming, although General Lucas Locus sat in the same row as Maddox.

General Locus wasn’t on trial. While still in the Crowder System, at Maddox’s request, the general had rejoined Meyers. Locus had been Maddox’s main source of knowledge of Meyers’s gambits the last days in the Crowder System.

Locus had already given testimony. Today, Maddox would enter the dock.

The captain did so at 10:23 Geneva Time and did not step down until 3:42 in the afternoon. There had been one short break and a longer one for lunch.

Meyers had listened stonily to his testimony. She did not have a defense attorney, as she’d refused one, saying the court session was a sham. They planned to murder her, and she would leave it at that.

Lisa Meyers did not have a jury of peers. Strand and Ludendorff would have been the only ones possible. Instead, the Lord High Admiral himself acted as jury, letting the Judge Advocate of Star Watch run the proceedings.

Maddox’s was the last testimony. They had already run through the litany of Meyers’s crimes against humanity.

At last, at 4:51 P.M., the Lord High Admiral walked out of the judge’s chambers.

The Judge Advocate vacated his seat. Admiral Cook took his place. He wore his white uniform with its host of medals. Cook liked tired and old, but his eyes shined with determination.

“Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers, will you please stand,” Cook said.

“I refuse,” Meyers said, crossing her arms. “This court has no right to judge me, as you are my declared enemies.”

Cook nodded stiffly. “As you wish.” He cleared his throat and scanned the throng of watchers. “This is a grave case, and Lisa Meyers has a point. However, she has attempted the extermination of the human race, slaying untold billions. She has relentlessly sought the means to kill all of humanity. As Star Watch defends the Commonwealth of Planets, defends the human race to the best of its ability, I find that I must make a hard decision. Lisa Meyers, you are a murderer on a vast scale. You have slain billions and conspired to kill trillions. I find you guilty, lacking all remorse. Do you have any words before I declare the sentence?”

Meyers glared at him. “This is a sham. I do not recognize your authority over me. You are bringing wrath upon your head by doing this, and you can all go to Hell.”

Admiral Cook nodded solemnly. “Your threats are sincere. I take them to heart. Thus, you will be taken outside and shot before a firing squad, your body incinerated so no one many take any of your DNA to replicate another like you.”

Meyers stared at Cook. “You’re bluffing. Star Watch lacks the balls to act so firmly.”

A weary Cook had to grab twice before he picked up the gavel. He raised it and struck the wooden pad. “The court has spoken. Let the sentence be carried out.” He hit the pad again. “Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers, may God have mercy on your soul. I have none.”

***

One hour and sixteen minutes later, a squad of space marines made up of volunteers—daughters and mothers of a few of those murdered by the Methuselah Woman—marched into position.

Meyers had refused a blindfold. Her hands were tied to a wooden post. She glared at the marines.

“My only regret is that I failed to achieve my aim,” Meyers said.

A captain of marines raised a ceremonial sword. “Ready,” she cried. “Aim. Fire,” she said, sweeping down her sword.

The rifles beamed Lisa Meyers, and she died there, less than a quarter mile from Star Watch Headquarters.

Her corpse was taken to an incinerator, and there, every piece was devoured. The long career of Methuselah Woman Lisa Meyers was over. She had lost most profoundly, beaten by the fighters of Star Watch.

***

Galyan observed the beaming in ghost mode. He considered it a barbaric display but understood the logic of it. People had a right to defend themselves, and this humanity had done against a villainous killer.

The little Adok holoimage took himself to the ranch outside Carson City. He waited fifteen hours to catch a glimpse of Captain Maddox, who took out the trash, putting two plastic bags into a garbage bin. Then, Maddox hurried back into the house to be with his family.

Galyan smiled. His family was still safe. They had returned from the ends of the galaxy. What a horrific adventure. He hoped they did not have to deal with Ardazirhos, Yon Soths, Builders, Hormagaunts or guardians for a long time. He hoped they could have ordinary missions and defend the Commonwealth from within it.

Watching the captain these past few days…Galyan began to wonder about something. He loved his family: Maddox, Meta, now Jewel, Riker, Valerie, Keith, Ludendorff and the others. But could he find…?

Galyan took himself up to Victory, standing in an observation lounge. Six thousand years ago, had any Adoks ever left the home system?

“I should try to find out,” Galyan said to himself. His eyelids fluttered and then ceased. Yes, maybe there was a way to discover such a possibility. Wouldn’t that be something if he could help revive or sustain his own people?

“I must think more on this,” Galyan said. “Yes, I must think long indeed.”

THE END

From the Author: Thanks Reader! I hope you’ve enjoyed THE LOST BARRIER. If you liked the book and would like to see the story continue, please put up some stars and a review to support the series. Let me know what you would like Captain Maddox and the crew to challenge next!

-VH