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.”