The Lost Command (Lost Starship Series Book 2) (19 page)

They began walking down the passageway. They did that for kilometers, taking endless twists and turns.

“How big is this ship?” Meta asked.

“They don’t make them any larger,” Kane told her.

Those were their only words during three hours of trekking. A half hour later, they came to a blue-colored hatch. All the others had been gray.

“Stop here,” Kane said.

Meta did, glancing back at him.

The big man took a comm-unit out of a gray suit pocket. He checked the unit and put it back in his pocket. What had he been searching for?

“Open the hatch,” he said.

Meta shrugged and did as he bid, swinging the hatch open. The air that rolled into her face smelled stale. That made her nervous and hesitant, and she didn’t like how dark the corridor was. Everywhere else it had been lit.

“Go,” Kane ordered.

She looked over her shoulder at him. His expression seldom changed. He almost seemed emotionless.

“Go,” he said again, pushing her from behind, making her stumble through the hatch.

She banged her right shin, and that hurt. “Maybe if you could tell me what’s going on,” she said, angrily.

Kane didn’t respond.

Meta endured the throbbing and began to pay attention. The passageway became progressively darker. Soon, she felt her way forward by hand. Would this be the time to try something? Just before she turned around to attack, he clicked something, and a spotlight gave her illumination.

She looked back. Kane held his comm-unit, shining the back of it at her.

He had a wintery grin. “You’re so predictable,” he rumbled. “It’s your greatest weakness.”

Meta bit back a retort, soon coming to another hatch. This one looked different, like it belonged to a small ship.

“Open it,” Kane said.

“You don’t say much,” she said.

“There is no need.”

She waited for him to tell her to open it again. He didn’t. Instead, he shoved her left shoulder. Meta got the point. She opened the hatch, entering a musty-smelling ship. It had lights.

The place reminded her of the
Geronimo
.

Kane closed the hatch. Then, he propelled her down a short corridor to a control room. There were three seats. Kane ordered her to sit in the leftmost one. He took the center chair.

With obviously practiced ease, Kane began turning on the scout ship.

The air cyclers dumped tainted air into the chamber. That changed within minutes, becoming fresh if cold. More lights came on. The engaging engine caused the small craft to shiver with power.

“Buckle in,” Kane said.

Meta complied.

Blast doors slid away from the scout’s viewing port. It showed Meta a large hangar bay. Long containers were piled in rows almost to the ceiling on either side of them. There was only a narrow aisle for the spaceship.

“Are you any good flying this thing?” Meta asked.

Kane didn’t bother answering. He took the controls. With a lurch, their craft lifted. Carefully, the big man maneuvered the ship down the narrow aisle, turning onto a new one several times. Finally, they reached the hangar bay door. It was open. Stars shined outside.

“Where are we?” Meta asked.

Without a word, Kane flew through the opening into space.

Meta got some idea of the size of the Cestus Company hauler. It was huge, vast, far bigger than any military machine. It approached the size of a Spacer’s home ship.

Craning her head, Meta glimpsed giant numbers painted on the hauler.

Kane flew away from the massive ship. He pressed a button, and the scout’s engine revved with power. A second later, gravity dampeners hummed into life. Then, thrust pushed Meta back in her seat.

“We’re going to accelerate for a time,” Kane told her. “Get as comfortable as you can.”

Meta listened. She’d learned that Kane didn’t speak without purpose.

For the next seven hours, bone-wearying G forces pressed her against the chair. The little ship must really be building up its velocity.

“We can’t be in the Solar System,” Meta said once.

Kane didn’t bother replying.

Meta closed her eyes. The man irritated her. How could he be so self-contained? He exuded too much confidence.

It’s true Maddox was similar, but there were subtle differences. For one thing, the captain cared about the team. There was also a hidden loneliness to Maddox. The longer she had been with him, the more Meta had come to realize this truth. The captain strove for perfection because he had to hide his differences behind success. She wished they had never gotten into that stupid argument in New York City. Her pride had gotten in the way.

Without warning, Kane shut off the thruster. The grinding G forces relented as regular gravity returned to the scout.

“Sleep if you can,” he said.

“Here in the chair?” she asked.

Kane just looked at her.

Meta adjusted to a more comfortable position. She closed her eyes. She was tired and fell almost instantly asleep.

She awoke to Kane’s voice, raising her head to look at him.

“We’re going to brake,” he said. “Get ready for heavy Gs.”

“Are we in that great of a hurry?” she asked.

For an answer, deceleration hit hard and kept pressing her into the seat for hours.

Finally, that too ended. She saw a gas giant, a green planet. It grew larger hour by hour.

“Is there a Laumer-Point nearby?” she asked.

“You already know there is,” Kane said.

Meta hid her surprise, and she said nothing. It made her angry how happy she was to have him talk to her. Was that by his design? Kane didn’t look it, but the man was incredibly crafty.

The scout neared the Jovian planet. Kane began searching for the Laumer-Point. Some were harder to find than others. The bigger the entrance, the more readily apparent. By his searching, this must be a tiny jump point.

“Where are we headed?” Meta asked.

Kane paused in his efforts, giving her a faint smile.

“Oh,” Meta said.

Kane went back to work.

A little over an hour later, a beep sounded. Kane sat back, grunting. He lurched forward a second later. His thick fingers blurred as they typed across the panel.

The scout headed for a shimmering point in space.

“Three, two, one…zero,” Kane said.

Meta gritted her teeth. The scout entered the tiny Laumer-Point. In the blink of the proverbial eye, the spaceship exited a different Laumer-Point light years away from where they’d started.

Groaning, Meta strove to regain her equilibrium. She hated jumping.

The scout’s systems began to come back online. Kane stirred in his seat. Swiveling his chair, the big man vomited onto the floor twice. Finally, he took out a rag and wiped his mouth. Then, he unbuckled, took out an emergency kit and cleaned up the mess.

Meta was surprised he hadn’t tried to make her do it. Maybe the show of weakness embarrassed him. It was hard to know.

Kane sprayed a deodorizer in the cabin. He shoved the mess into a disposal unit and resumed his pilot’s chair. Finally, he engaged thrusters.

Eight hours later, the small ship approached a thick asteroid belt.

That surprised Meta. Many people had an odd idea of what an asteroid belt consisted of. They watched movies showing rocks tumbling in visible sight of each other. Meta didn’t know of any asteroid belt like that. Usually, the various-sized rocks were hundreds of thousands of kilometers apart. That these were so close together that she could see them outside the viewing port—

“This isn’t a natural formation,” Meta said. “Someone put all these rocks out here.”

“Obviously,” Kane said.

“Who?” she asked.

Kane didn’t respond. He began to fly through the asteroid field. It took several hours.

Later, Meta leaned forward. She spied something silvery bright out there. Pointing, she asked, “Is that where we’re headed?”

“Yes.”

The same shiver of delight as before coursed through her. Why did she need to talk? Kane didn’t have that need. Was that natural on his part? Or was it conditioning on someone else’s part?

“What is that?” she asked.

“The Nexus,” Kane said.

Meta glanced at him. “You said before the Nexus was alien.”

“True.”

“It’s alien technology?” Meta asked.

“Yes.”

“What does it do?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Meta grew uneasy. “Are there aliens there?”

“No.”

“Ghosts?” she asked.

Kane froze. Slowly, he sat back, turning, regarding her. “What does that mean?” he asked.

She said nothing, deciding to do a Kane on him.

He opened his mouth, maybe to ask more. Did he realize she wouldn’t answer? Did he figure it would take too long torturing the answer from her?

Meta didn’t want to tell him about the holoimage aboard
Victory
. The less Kane knew about the super-ship the better.

Kane went back to piloting the scout.

In time, they approached a silver object. Meta leaned forward, studying it. It wasn’t just an object, but a giant pyramid like those in Egypt. It rotated slowly, spinning in place.

“What’s a silver pyramid doing out in space?” Meta asked.

“What’s a ghost?” Kane returned.

“Does this having anything to do with the pyramids on Earth?”

Kane snorted.

“Is that a stupid question?” she asked.

“One of the worst offenses of the cattle are their bleating questions that they already know the answer to,” Kane said.

Meta didn’t get angry this time. She genuinely didn’t know the answer. But if Kane thought she already did…

“So that has nothing to do with those on Earth,” she said.

“You know that isn’t right,” Kane said. “Are you trying to goad me? If so, it seems a foolish way to go about it.”

“Whatever,” Meta said, trying to hide her excitement. What did it mean that this pyramid had a connection to those on Earth? Was Kane saying ancient spacefarers had helped the Egyptians build those?

She would have to ponder the idea.

Kane resumed piloting, bringing them closer to the spinning pyramid.

Two hours later, Meta had an idea of the thing’s size, gargantuan, bigger than the Cestus Company hauler. The sides looked metallically smooth.

Kane matched the pyramid’s spinning velocity. Then, he edged the scout nearer and nearer.

“What are you trying to do?” Meta asked.

“You’ll see,” he said.

Finally, he seemed satisfied. The scout must have been a kilometer away from the object.

“Let’s go,” Kane said, unbuckling, standing.

“We’re going somewhere?” Meta asked.

“Yes. Out there.”

“To the pyramid?” Meta asked.

Kane sighed.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Don’t be so huffy all the time. How do I know what you’re planning? You call this the Nexus?”

“Come,” he said, grabbing her, pushing her toward the hatch.

They went to a locker room. Kane told her to put on a spacesuit. He donned one as well. With a control unit, he opened a hatch, and they went inside. The hatch shut, the airlock depressurized and the other side opened.

Meta floated to a small cycle.

Kane hooked a magnetic lock to her suit. He climbed on behind her. A second later, the two-man cycle detached from the scout. Kane applied thrust, and they started for the pyramid.

Meta watched in awe. The stars blazed around her. She craned her head back, looking around Kane at the scout. It was similar to the
Geronimo
, but different in small ways. For one thing, it lacked armaments.

Soon, the pyramid grew, filling her vision. Kane rotated the cycle, braking. Facing the pyramid again, he began inching along a wall.

“What are you looking for?” Meta asked through her helmet’s comm-unit. “Maybe I can help you find it.”

Kane didn’t reply. Then a section of pyramid wall slid open.

Meta gasped. How did Kane have access to such ancient alien technology? It was incredible. What did this say about the New Men? Maybe there was a reason why they had superior star cruisers. Maybe they hadn’t developed the high-tech themselves, but found it as Ludendorff had originally found Starship
Victory
.

Kane drove through the opening. It closed behind them.

Meta couldn’t stop blinking. Inside, the pyramid was a vast skeletal maze of girders. Lights blazed and giant balls of energy pulsed.

Kane guided them to a silver landing pad. He grounded the cycle on it. Then, he
clunked
his helmet against hers.