Villars glowered.
“He thwarted your surprise attempt to kill him,” Ludendorff pointed out. “That should show you Maddox has more resources than the average man.”
“He’s a freak,” Villars said.
“No, Cesar,” the professor said. “That is ill-mannered. You should not say that to him.”
“Freak,” Villars said, hotly.
Ludendorff turned to Maddox. “It appears you’ve gravely angered my friend. For your own good, I suggest you stay out of his way.”
“Naturally,” Maddox said.
Ludendorff peered into the captain’s eyes. Finally, the professor exhaled, turning toward Villars. “Come along then. Some separation appears to be in order.”
Ludendorff took the slarn hunter by the right elbow, guiding him down the corridor. The blockier man moved sluggishly, as if the web was still on enough to make his movements difficult. It seemed the professor wasn’t only going to trust Villars’s word.
A few seconds later, the force web vanished from around Maddox. He stumbled several steps before he stood in quiet contemplation, examining the knife that Villars had planned to use to cut out his lungs.
Turning around, Maddox went to the monofilament wire. It would take careful work to take down something like this. Afterward, he would have to warn Meta about Villars.
What would the professor do once Maddox killed Villars? It would appear the captain would find out soon.
-10-
Hundreds of light-years from Victory in the Beyond, an agent of the New Men sat alone in a room, enduring his latest rehabilitation due to mission failure.
Kane was born on the Rouen Colony. Thanks to scientists of the Chabot Consortium, he had been genetically modified to work on the two-G mining world. He was big and square-bodied, with gray hair and flat slabs of muscle. Kane had the bleakness of a glacier even though he seethed where he sat.
He was aboard a star cruiser in a punishment chamber. At the command of Oran Rva, he attempted to purge his emotions. A condenser ray beamed down from the ceiling at his brain in order to aid the process, or so they had informed him. Kane had begun to doubt the explanation, believing the ray did something else to his mind.
Kane gripped his knees, enduring the process. The beam made his head pound and his teeth ache. As the ray did its work, he attempted to reconcile a truism of his existence.
Regular humans were no match for his excellence. Yet, despite his superiority over the norms, the dominants—what Star Watch called the New Men—were better than he was in every way. Kane understood that he would always be a second tier citizen in the New Order. That was better than becoming cattle like the rest of humanity. Was it not?
Kane felt heat creep up his neck. That was anger. He must control the inner rage. The dominants would never release him for another mission if they detected such fury.
I’ve never had trouble controlling my rage before. The condenser ray should be helping me with this, which means the beam is definitely doing something else. Why have the dominants lied to me?
Kane debated the idea even as he yearned for another chance against the norms. He particularly wanted the opportunity in the hope that Captain Maddox would appear in his path again. Then—
Kane shifted on his chair.
He must forget about the Star Watch Intelligence officer and his woman. Meta’s delicious body and enticing features had goaded him the entire time he had been with her. He should have stripped off her garments and put his hands on her, entering—
No! Kane cared nothing about that.
Why am I lying to myself? I never have before. I want the woman. I desire to use her well and often.
Kane took a deep breath. He must rid himself of all rutting desires. Only climbing rank mattered. Only the—
Abruptly, the ray quit. Kane knew because his teeth stopped aching and his head no longer pounded. It left a dull emptiness in his mind, though, making it difficult to concentrate.
A noise alerted Kane. He found his reflexes were slow. He moved his head sluggishly as the chamber’s door slid up.
Commander Oran Rva, a golden-skinned dominant, stepped through the hatch. The commander wore a silver suit with a single purple emblem on his right pectoral. He had a weapon belt around his waist with a holstered blaster. Oran Rva was tall with a dark pelt of hair. The eyes, which were like swirling black pools of ink, fixated on Kane.
“Come with me,” Oran Rva said.
It took Kane three tries to rise. What had the invisible beam done to him? Finally, he stood up, only to go down to one knee. With a grunt of embarrassment, he struggled to his feet, finally staggering after the commander.
***
Kane stood in a large auditorium aboard the star cruiser. Oran Rva was behind a table that held a harness of thin straps attached to silver bands.
“You have failed in your deception missions,” the dominant said. “Analysis proves your decisions were lacking. A competent spy needs intuitive powers combined with daring. You have an insufficient quantity of the former but an abundance of the latter. Given your knowledge of Earth customs and ability to swim among the sub-men unnoticed, you are about to embark on a unique mission of straightforward violence.”
Kane said nothing, absorbing the information. Was this a demotion? It sounded like it. Yet, the gear on the table was clearly advanced technology. The dominants never let others use such weaponry, reserving those items for themselves.
“In essence, you will be a one-man commando team,” Oran Rva said.
The slightest of frowns touched Kane’s face.
“State your objections to this,” Oran Rva said.
Kane shook his head. “I have no objections, Your Excellency.”
“Remember that you have stated so. Now, remove your garments, put on this harness and I shall begin your training.”
Kane obeyed, soon fitting soft silver bands around his neck, torso, forearms, biceps, triceps, thighs, calves and other areas.
That Oran Rva, the commander of the initial invasion armada, trained him personally, was food for consideration. The New Men had different customs than the norms. There, an admiral would never teach a commando his trade. Here, the grade of the instructor indicated the importance of the task. That Oran Rva oversaw the training told Kane his commando mission was of supreme importance.
With the straps and bands in place on Kane’s person, Oran Rva indicated a tiny silver ball, with two deep indentations.
“Attach the power source to the harness there,” the commander said, pointing at a cord near Kane’s navel.
Kane plugged the ball to the harness. Instantly, the bands around his muscles buzzed pleasantly.
“You wear enablers,” Oran Rva explained. “They will excite your muscles, allowing you greater speed and strength. Are you ready?”
Kane nodded.
The commander ordered a sequence of exercises. Faster than Kane had ever done before, he ran around objects, leaped higher than he would have thought possible and engaged a fighting robot in a series of engagements.
At the end of the session, Kane removed the sweaty harness. He staggered, and his muscles quivered with exhaustion. In spite of his resolve, the Rouen Colony man collapsed onto the floor.
“Attend me,” Oran Rva said.
Kane concentrated, finding it difficult to focus. He managed to look up at the dominant towering over his prone person.
“With the enabler, you have reacted faster and with greater strength than you are normally capable of doing. The experience, as you can see, has left you exhausted. Instead of giving you a warning of the coming situation, I have let you experience the weakness directly. Never forget that extended exertions with the enabler will leave you powerless afterward.”
Kane said nothing. He was too tired. Finally, Kane sat up. Soon thereafter, time lost meaning for him. The dominant continued the training after injecting him with stimulants. Kane used other advanced weaponry, gaining proficiency with each, becoming lethal beyond his previous experience.