The Lost Destroyer (Lost Starship Series Book 3) (30 page)

“You’re saying Ludendorff was four hundred years old?” Maddox asked.

“I’m saying there were people in history, in the shadows, that match Ludendorff,” Cook said. “We can find obvious references to him that go back four hundred years. After that—” the Lord High Admiral shrugged.

“What’s your point?” O’Hara asked Maddox.

“I still don’t have one,” the captain said. “I merely find it odd that Ludendorff had control of
Victory
before he left for the Builder base.”

“And, you obviously have an ‘and’ to your thought,” O’Hara said.

“What happened inside the asteroid base?” Maddox asked.

“I’m not following you,” O’Hara said. “At great risk to himself, the professor collected this egg, which is supposed to save Earth against the doomsday machine.”

“Surely, Star Watch has tried to capture Ludendorff before this,” Maddox said.

“We have,” Cook said. “There are some strange stories that go with several of those incidents. But until now, we’ve never gotten hold of him.”

“Let’s get back to your point,” O’Hara told the captain. “Is the Builder asteroid base important?”

Maddox drummed his fingers on the table. What happened inside the asteroid base? Why did Strand and Ludendorff program people?” Maddox squinted suspiciously.

“You just thought of something,” O’Hara said.

“Yes,” Maddox said. “I’m recalling Wolf Prime when I was down in the Swarm dig. Kane grabbed Professor Ludendorff, shoving him into a shuttle and fleeing to the New Men.”

“Wait, what?” Cook asked.

Maddox told them how Ludendorff had used his friend Lank Meyers as a decoy professor, the one Kane had grabbed before fleeing.

“What are you suggesting?” O’Hara asked.

Drumming his fingers on the table, Maddox stared at the android professor. “Not a suggestion but a point,” he said. “Ludendorff was a master of deception.”

“I see where you’re going with this,” O’Hara said. “You’re suggesting Ludendorff might have made a switch in the Builder base.”

“It’s a theory, nothing more.”

“You think there is a real Ludendorff,” O’Hara said.

“I find it difficult to believe that Doctor Dana Rich fell hopelessly in love with an android,” Maddox said.

“Your theory strikes me as too complicated,” O’Hara said.

“Which makes me more suspicious than ever,” Maddox said. “The professor loved complicated. He positively thrived on it.”

“Why send an android of himself to Earth?” Cook asked.

“Because our planet is doomed and Ludendorff—the oldest Methuselah Man on record—practiced caution,” Maddox said.

“I don’t accept that,” O’Hara said. “Besides, it still wouldn’t explain the technology that produced something like that.” She pointed at the carcass or wreckage lying on the floor.

“We have to interrogate the gunman,” Maddox said. “We must find out who sent him. That might help us understand what we’re dealing with.”

Cook and O’Hara exchanged glances. The admiral nodded minutely.

“That is excellent advice, Captain,” O’Hara said. “I think it’s time we see to that.”

-32-

“Commander,” Kane said. “It looks as if they’re getting ready to try again.”

Oran Rva sat in front of a primary console in the most ultra-secret hideaway Strand owned. The console had electronic links to backdoors everywhere, even into the heart of Star Watch’s main computers. The dominant adjusted controls, concentrating on his latest operation.

Kane watched an underground scope. The Rouen Colony man wore a silver suit like a New Man. He looked incongruous in it, as he was much blockier than one of the dominants. Kane wore a blaster at his side, with a silver ball in a special holster dangling from his belt.

He glanced back at Strand.

The sick old human sat in a chair, with his legs and wrists secured. A cap sat on the head, with leads attached to the wrinkled facial skin. The Methuselah Man trembled from time to time. He had been through a painful ordeal these past days, in time answering all of Oran Rva’s questions.

The three of them waited in an underground chamber far beneath Nerva Tower. Several shafts led to the room. On Kane’s scope, three railway cars eased on magnetic tracks toward them. Soon, the cars would reach other wrecked vehicles blocking the tunnel, with corpses festering inside the twisted metal.

Kane had witnessed Oran Rva’s work. The commander awed him. With Strand’s incredible knowledge, Oran Rva had spread chaos throughout Earth and even to Pluto Command. The process was consuming every embedded espionage agent, however. The dominants would have to start from scratch in rebuilding a new secret service once this mission was over.

“Kane,” the old man whispered.

The Rouen Colony man looked up at the prisoner.

Strand glanced sidelong at Oran Rva, who continued to hunch over the primary console. Afterward, the Methuselah Man concentrated on Kane.

“This is a mistake,” Strand whispered. “My assets will win through to me in the end. I have too many schemes within schemes for the commander to survive them all.”

It galled Kane that the other thought of him as weak-willed. Strand couldn’t offer him anything real. No one could beat Oran Rva. Ignoring the old man, Kane pressed his face against the pads of the scope.

He saw that the three-car train slowed in the tunnel. The conductor must see the wreckage ahead. Soon, the railway cars came to a halt, sinking down onto the magnetic rails. Hatches opened. Power-armored troopers jumped down.

Adjusting the scope, Kane zoomed in on them. The troopers carried heavy weapons. It was likely they meant to batter their way in or to destroy the armored chamber, one or the other.

He debated telling Oran Rva about the development. Kane had just tried to speak to him. The commander had ignored the warning. That meant the dominant did not want to be disturbed.

Am I supposed to take care of this myself?

“Kane,” Strand whispered.

The Rouen Colony man raised his head.

“I am the master here,” Strand whispered. The blue eyes had a crazy shine to them. “This is my doing. You realize that, yes?”

Kane had learned incredible information these past days. It both awed and troubled him. He had listened to the interrogation and listened as Strand had tried to bargain and then reason with Oran Rva.

“Why did the commander demand my key?” Strand whispered. “There’s one purpose only: to gain entrance into the ancient doomsday machine. Surely, the Throne World has released it. That’s a terrible mistake.”

Kane said nothing as he watched Strand.

“Do you suppose anyone can overcome the cybernetic organism inside the planet-killer?” Strand whispered. “That’s madness, lunacy of the worst order. They’re like gods, Kane, gods. Their power is unimaginable.”

“This doomsday machine,” Kane said, “the Builders constructed it?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kane saw Oran Rva stiffen.

Strand noticed it, too. He cackled like a madman. “That got your attention, did it not?” he told the commander. “I know more than you, Oran Rva. I am old beyond your reckoning. I fashioned the Thomas Moore Society colonists into the New Men. I have used Cestus Haulers from time to time, bringing desperately needed supplies to the Throne World.”

The faintest of smiles appeared on the commander’s face.

“Do you doubt me?” Strand asked. “Don’t you realize the Methuselah People are layered into tiers of understanding? At the top are the Old Ones like me.”

The commander went back to work at the console.

Taking his cue from Oran Rva, Kane once more pressed his face against the pads. He watched as the power-armored troopers cautiously approached the wrecked cars blocking the tunnel.

“At the beginning of the Space Age,” Strand droned from his chair, “with the discovery of the Laumer Drive, we Old Ones found evidence of aliens. You know them, yes. There were the Swarm, the Adoks and the Builders. The aliens were gone, though. It took time to realize that. Even so, what had been there once could be there again. Besides, there was evidence that some of the aliens had gone into hiding. We Methuselah People—the first few—decided humanity needed an ace card. We also realized that humans are notoriously thin-skinned, easily upset and far too prone to letting others do their work for them. If the human race trusted the ace card to take care of them, they would never develop in their own right. Thus, we decided to make the weapon secret in the extreme.”

Kane watched a team of power-armored troopers lower their shoulders against a car and heave. Slowly, the crumpled train-car eased off the tracks.

“The Thomas Moore Society colonists were the perfect front,” Strand droned from his chair. “They traveled deep into the Beyond. There, we began to fashion the colonists into the Defenders. If the Swarm appeared, for instance, in overwhelming force, we could bring the Defenders—bring you and your ilk, Commander—onto the scene to save the human race.”

Kane watched the troopers push aide another car. Why did they bother? There wouldn’t be enough room on the tracks for the three good railway cars to approach the underground chamber.

“I’m an Old One,” Strand said. “You are my children, the offspring of my vast intellect.”

“You are a fool,” Oran Rva said.

Kane listened keenly as he continued to watch on the scope.

“I am the master here,” Strand said.

“Of course,” the commander said. “That is why you are strapped to a chair.”

“My people come to rescue me,” Strand said. “You have no idea how many hidden layers I have.”

“I know the precise number,” Oran Rva said. “That is why I have waited for this team to appear. I need something from them.”

“You lie,” Strand said.

“I have created turmoil on Earth,” Oran Rva said. “It should keep Star Watch busy long enough for me to gather the final item. Then, it will be time to win lasting glory. I will win such a coup as to gain the throne itself.”

On the scope, Kane watched the power-armored troopers push aside the last car. As they did, others struggled with a large platform. On it was a unique cannon. It looked like a sonic gun. Several troopers struggled to carry it toward the underground chamber at the end of the line.

“Commander,” Kane said, looking up.

Oran Rva swiveled his head to regard him. “They have brought a sonic cannon?” he asked.

“Yes, Commander,” Kane said, surprised.

“Guard our talkative prisoner. I must attend to business.” Oran Rva stood, drawing a blaster from its holster. He strode to the hatch. Opening it, the commander slipped through. Just before it clanged shut, Kane heard the buzz of an enabler from the commander.

Without regard for Strand, Kane put his face against the pads. He wanted to see this.

In moments, the commander appeared on the scope. He strode toward the power-armored troopers like a man possessed. Suddenly, one of the enemies saw Oran Rva. The metallic gorilla pointed. Those carrying the sonic cannon halted. A second later, the troopers lowered the big weapon.

The troopers brought up their heavy rifles, beginning to fire.

At that, Oran Rva burst into action. It was uncanny. The commander fired with beautiful precision. Each shot downed a trooper, with a smoking hole in his armor. The enemy projectiles and laser beams missed the dominant in the silver suit. Oran Rva moved too fast, and he wore a miniaturized magnetic repeller for additional protection.

Kane realized he witnessed one of the supreme soldiers of the Throne World in action. Few could have matched this performance.

Then, it was over. All the enemy power-armored troopers lay dead in the tunnel.

The commander charged the sonic gun. It hadn’t fired in the melee, which was likely a good thing for Oran Rva. He didn’t have a defense against it.

The dominant clambered onto the platform. He opened a compartment and withdrew a fist-sized object. This, Oran Rva dropped into a pouch at his side. The commander thereupon sprinted back at high speed for the chamber.

“Don’t move,” Strand whispered.

Kane felt the end of a barrel pressed against his temple.

A sick feeling of failure washed over the Rouen Colony man. He remembered now that he was supposed to have kept his eyes on Strand. How had the sick old man escaped from the chair?

“What is the New Man doing now?” Strand whispered into Kane’s ear.

“He attacks the others,” Kane said.

Strand chuckled. “I am much more than you realize, and I understand that you’re lying to me. For that, you shall die.”

“Wait,” Kane said, pulling away from the scope.

Strand held Kane’s own blaster against his head. This was even worse than he had expected.

Something vile glittered in Strand’s eyes. His unnatural vitality disturbed Kane.

“There is to be a change in plans,” the old man said. “I—”

The hatch began to open.

Strand swore, shoved Kane’s head, which did nothing to move the square thing. Then Oran Rva came through the hatch.

Strand fired at him, producing a click but nothing more from the blaster. The old man stared at the blaster before looking up at the commander.

“For once,” Oran Rva said, “I would like to meet an opponent who wasn’t so wearily predictable. Kane lusted for knowledge and you, clone, didn’t think I would understand your guile.”

“What do you mean, clone?” Strand asked.

“Do you truly think you are the great Strand?” Oran Rva sneered. “Do you think he would allow himself to be on Earth with the coming of the doomsday machine?”

“I am Strand.”

“You are a pale replica of the real thing,” Oran Rva said. “I know, for I have trained under Strand. He thought to use me to supplant the Great One on the throne. The real Strand finds it bitter indeed to have lost the role of chief puppeteer. The real Strand taught me more than was wise on his part. Because of that knowledge, I am here to win the greatest prize imaginable.”

“You have no means to defeat the driver of the doomsday machine,” Strand said.

“Clone, do not attempt to understand what is beyond your pay grade.”

“I am Strand, me.”

“You have served your usefulness, clone. Now—”

“Wait,” Strand said. “There are things I can show you. In my office—”

Oran Rva pulled the trigger. The blaster fired, and Strand, or the clone of Strand, fell down dead.

Kane watched with icy detachment. Whatever the dead thing was, it had stolen his blaster from him.

“I have failed,” Kane said.

“I knew you would,” Oran Rva told him. “However, I still have need of your abilities. I am the supreme soldier. You are much better than the sub-men, and we still have much to do before the doomsday machine arrives.”

“We’re going to stop it, Commander?”

“No. It will destroy the Earth. That is the plan, and it is a wise one. The Great One has decreed the origin point’s destruction.”

“Then…?”

“I have a plan within a plan,” Oran Rva said. “I have discovered that I am the best-suited to rule. For others to understand my greatness as I do, I must have the greatest ship in the universe.”

“The component to the sonic cannon is the critical element?” Kane asked.

“The second-to-last critical element,” the commander said. “I need one more item. Gaining it will be our most dangerous task. You must concentrate, Kane, as I will accept no more buffoonery on your part.”

“Yes, Commander,” Kane said.

“First, though, we shall leave a little something for Star Watch Intelligence. I believe my latest gift to them will motivate the brigadier’s people to furious action against us. That is how I wish it be.”

Oran Rva sat down at the console, tapping the screen, implementing the next step in his master plan.