The Lost Destroyer (Lost Starship Series Book 3) (36 page)

The acceleration worsened, pushing Maddox deeper against his seat. Then the craft must have zipped to the left. The G forces shoved against the captain, making him want to vomit again.

“Three, two, one…zero,” Keith said.

Once more, the disorienting process caught Maddox off-guard. The world spun. Noises garbled in his ears. The next thing Maddox knew, Riker stood over him, clicking off the straps and yanking him to his feet.

“What’s wrong with you, sir?” Riker asked. “You have to snap out of it. We’re here. The damned pilot pulled off a miracle. Now, we have to hope the AI can do the same thing.”

-39-

Maddox stopped inside the tiny jumpfighter twice, dry heaving. He felt awful.

Someone gripped his elbow painfully. “What’s wrong, sir? Why are you acting so strangely?”

“Feel…sick,” Maddox whispered.

“How, sir?”

“My gut…want to vomit…feel achy.”

Seconds passed into an eternity of dull-eyed apathy. A new person in a vacc-suit floated before him.

“It’s me, mate, Keith. Did you feel this way after the Baxter-Locke shot?”

“Yes…” Maddox slurred. “Is that important?”

“It’s an Apollo reaction, they call it. Happens every seventh or eighth shot. I should have warned you about it, I suppose. It’s one of the reasons they don’t hand the shots out like candy to everyone.”

“What do we do now?” Maddox whispered.

“You hope the effect wears off. There were a few people… Well, never mind about that. We have to get out, sir. We’re practically on the hull, but we’re drifting. Our window of opportunity is small. Galyan will be firing his unlocking beam soon. If we’re not at the hatch in time…”

“What’s the best remedy for the Apollo effect?” Maddox asked.

“Simple old mulishness, sir. Get mad. Sometimes that seems to burn out the nausea. Don’t know why, but that was the scuttlebutt I heard.”

Maddox tried to focus on his hatred against the New Men. They planned to select the winners and losers in the universe, who lived and who died. The odds were bad for everyone. One out of five chances of living in the New Order. No. That wasn’t going to get him angry. He had to make this personal.

The captain smiled bitterly. He should focus on Kane grabbing Meta. But the agent for the New Men was a cipher. Maddox wanted the head honcho. Oran Rva had come to Earth. The commander had tugged the webs of the enemy’s espionage net. Likely, Oran Rva had coordinated the various assassination attempts against him. Maddox had always wanted a face-to-face with one of the leaders, one of his mother’s killers.

“I’m not going to get angry,” Maddox whispered to himself. “I’m going to get even. I’m going to do this my way. For that, I refuse to let this nausea stop me.”

“What’s that you’re saying, sir?” Riker asked.

Maddox realized his radio link had been on the entire time. That was fine.

With the greater concentration came a realization that Riker and Maker had hooked him into a thruster-pack. Now, each of them floated to theirs.

“You have to go back with the jumpfighter,” Maddox radioed Keith.

“I’d love to do that, sir,” the ace said. “But the sequencer burned out the last jump. The fighter’s finished. I’m coming along, going to add my two credits to the fight.”

Maddox didn’t say a word. He concentrated, forcing his mind to burn through the drug-induced haze. He had made it to the doomsday machine, the outer hull, anyway. Had Per Lomax gotten this far? Was the New Man inside the planet-killer helping the others?

“Let’s go,” Keith shouted. “We’re drifting and will be out of range soon.”

“Here goes,” Riker said. “I hope you’re ready, sir.”

“Do it,” Maddox whispered.

The sergeant slapped a switch. The hatch blew away.

Maddox forced himself to shove off, drifting through the opening. Before him was a wall of pitted neutroium armor. Looking at it made his eyes water. Seen from this close, the hull seemed primordial. It made
Victory
seem new.

Maddox stared at the pitted surface. As he did, there stirred in him a feeling of…
evil
. It made him shudder. Here was something truly alien. If they went inside—

“We have over ten kilometers to go,” Keith radioed, the transmission scratchy-sounding.

The words startled Maddox out of his reverie.

“Ten klicks is near the limit of our hydrogen tanks,” Keith added.

“Lead the way,” Maddox muttered. “I’ll follow behind.”

“Sergeant,” Keith said, with a same ring of authority in his voice as when he piloted. “You bring up the rear. Make sure the captain keeps up.”

Several seconds passed before Riker said, “Yes, sir.”

White hydrogen spray spewed from the thruster-pack ahead of Maddox. That must be Keith. The pilot lurched forward as he went lower toward the gigantic, pitted hull.

“Get going, sir,” Riker radioed. “We can’t split up or we’ll never get back together soon enough.”

“Right,” Maddox said. He had the feeling of something old and vile watching him, waiting to devour him like a bloated spider. It lived inside the ancient machine, wanting him to enter the lair of evil.

“Get a grip,” the captain muttered. He squeezed the trigger and aimed the throttle down. In seconds, he zoomed toward the giant, pitted hull.

The fuzziness in his mind refused to go away, though. The sense of danger continued to radiate from the armor, making his fingers sweaty.

“You’re going down too sharply, sir,” Riker radioed. “Ease off.”

Maddox squeezed his eyes closed and opened them wide. What was wrong with him? As he licked his lips, he eased off the throttle. If he wasn’t careful, he’d slam against the hull.

Soon, his booted feet were less than ten meters from the hull. It felt as if he flew over something older than the stones of Earth. Maddox shook his head to rid himself of the feeling, but that just hurt his eyes. He looked up at the stars, but that made him dizzy. Once more, he peered past his feet at the neutroium. How many encounters had this ancient machine survived? How many times had its beam destroyed life on a planetary surface? What chance did he have against something so…immortal?

“No,” Maddox whispered. He refused to despair. They may be three specks flying over the neutroium monster, but they were going to defeat this thing. The three men from Earth would go inside and defeat whatever waited for them no matter how ancient and vile it was.

“Galyan should be firing his wave frequency about now,” Keith radioed. “But we’re still too far away from the hatch.”

The words helped focus the captain’s thoughts. “Can you…can you see it?”

“It’s a little over a kilometer from here,” Keith said. “We’re going to have to start braking.”

Some of the regular Maddox returned. Galyan and he had gone over the sequence of the commando raid in exquisite detail. He knew the timing of this.

“No,” Maddox said. “If we begin braking from this far out, we won’t make it in.”

“You’re right,” Keith said a second later. “Okay then, mates. Follow me. Our only chance is to shoot like a bullet through the hatch before it closes.”

The pilot pulled away from the ancient hull.

Maddox tilted his throttle and added thrust. He was feeling better, with his head clearing. The aura of evil faded, but not enough that he grinned at this former foolishness. There was something alien in the worst sense about this machine. But it wouldn’t get the better of him.

The seconds ticked away, with the thruster-packs spewing their remaining fuel. The three specks had picked up speed.

“I see it!” Keith shouted, the words blaring in Maddox’s headphones. “The hatch is still open. I don’t know how much longer it’s going to stay that way.”

Even though the hatch seemed like the maw of a deadly beast, Maddox shouted, “Full throttle! We have to get on board.” He squeezed the trigger, focusing as he aimed at the tiny entrance.

Keith laughed recklessly, sounding as if he enjoyed the moment.

Surprisingly, Maddox zipped passed the ace as the captain shot at full throttle for the opening. None of them was going to have time to slow down. They had to beat the clock or remain out here until the fleet made its attack run.

Maddox concentrated. For a second, he felt sibilant laughter in his mind.
Come to me, yes, come into my lair
. The captain’s lips hardened, and his eyes become like flint. He was coming all right. The way into the doomsday machine was before him. Galyan had successfully copied the wave frequency. The Adok starship had done its job. Now, it was time for the three of them to do theirs.

“We’re almost there, sir,” Riker shouted.

Coolly, telling himself he wanted to meet the ancient evil, Maddox began to undo the buckles of the thruster-pack. Seconds later, he pushed off the pack. Then, he folded himself into a cannonball as if launching off a diving board.

“I’m squeezing myself into a fetal position,” Maddox radioed. “If I hit too hard, I’m hoping this will keep me from breaking any bones.”

“Good idea,” Keith said. “I’m doing the same thing. Be careful you don’t push your pack off too hard, Sergeant. You don’t want to spoil your aim.”

That was the last comment. Then, Maddox shot through the hatch and into the corridor. He struck a bulkhead, ricocheted and struck another. He tightened his muscles as he kept himself like a cannonball, enduring blow after blow.

“The door’s closing,” Riker radioed. “I’m still outside.”

Maddox slammed against another bulkhead. It jarred his head so stars blossomed before him. That loosened his cannonball position. Then he struck even harder, feeling as if a sledgehammer banged his chest. Air gushed away as he faded into semi-conscious. Had he stopped? A final bone-jarring hit put him out cold inside the ancient doomsday machine.

***

Maddox’s eyelids fluttered. With a groan, he attempted to sit up. Vertigo struck. He sagged back onto the deck, panting, his head pounding with gongs.

“Hello,” he whispered a minute later. The words reverberated inside his helmet. There was no answer. Did his helmet radio work? Or had his caroming descent down the corridor broken it?

The captain gathered his resolve. Slowly, he brought a hand to his helmet. At least his arm worked. He tried the other one. It was sore but functional.

Maddox unglued his eyes. A dim diffused glow let him see the ceiling. Weird, polygonal shapes fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. There were several colors. The pieces did not seem metallic but like hardened or lacquered growths or the secretions of alien bees. Yes, the polygonal shapes felt as if once they had been soft and later hardened into their present state.

Maddox felt revulsion, which gave him greater energy. He wanted to get out of here. Trying to bolt upright, dizziness stole his vision. His muscles relaxed as if a boxer had hit him on the chin.

As he lay there, he felt a thrum, a vibration. Then, eerie noises like whales make deep in the ocean managed to leak past his helmet.

What was that?

It came to Maddox the ship itself must be making the noise. The ancient death machine groaned as its systems pumped, cycled and did whatever else they must do to keep the vessel running.

I have a mission. The planet-killer is heading for Earth to kill all life there. If I don’t stop it…who will?

Opening his eyes once more, Maddox eased onto his elbows and raised his head. The sides of the corridor had the same bizarre, polygonal patterns. No two were the same. The jigsaw pieces had the same colors and the feel of being hardened resin instead of metal. More than ever, it felt as if alien bees had constructed the ship’s interior.

Maddox inspected his vacc-suit next. He found plenty of abrasions with smears of resin but no tears. The jigsaw pieces must have more give than metal. He appeared to be in one piece. Did his legs work, or had he broken bones?

Gingerly, the captain levered himself to a sitting position. He twisted around, noting that he’d cannonballed around a corner. There was no sign of Riker or Keith.

Could something alive in the ship have dragged them away?

Maddox’s shoulders twitched. He had to get a grip. His imagination was running wild. Where was his coolness under fire?

“Time to test my legs,” he whispered. The sound of his voice helped his nerves.

Maddox brought his knees to his chest. It encouraged him that they worked. He began the arduous process of standing. Too many muscles complained, having taken a battering. He found himself panting from the strain. The process took far too long and he winced from endlessly painful jolts. Finally, however, he swayed as he stood.

He tasted saltiness on his lips. Time was ticking against him. He had to get going, do the job he came here to do. Lurching, he took a step, a second and a third. It left him panting harder than before, with sweat prickling his skin.

Why is this so difficult?

Then it came to him. Grav-plates were at work. This felt more than regular 1 G. Maybe it was 1.5 Gs. He didn’t think it was two. Whoever had built the doomsday machine seemed to have originated on a heavier planet than Earth.

Maddox had no idea if that was useful information or not, but he filed it away.

I’m not going to discover anything standing here. I have to move, explore—and fight the enemy when I run into him
.

Star Watch marines were supposed to show up soon. He had to figure out the specifics of how to win before their arrival.

Shuffling around, Maddox began searching for the other two. He headed for the bend, the one he was sure he’d bounced past coming in. Each footfall seemed to go down too fast and too hard. He didn’t like the increased gravities. It was going to make the assignment harder.