In a second, Maddox heard new breathing. “Meta,” he said.
“M-Maddox?” she asked. “How did you get here? What happened to Kane? Where is he?”
Maddox grinned until Oran Rva drew a knife and came at him. That shouldn’t have been possible. How had the New Man short-circuited Ludendorff’s web-field?
“Shoot him,” Maddox said.
Keith raised a blaster and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Maddox dropped the flat device, drew his own blaster and tried to fire. Absolutely nothing happened.
Oran Rva chuckled as he said, “I’m impressed, hybrid. You’ve done much better than I would have believed. You are a testament to our breeding program.”
“Fan out,” Maddox said. “We’re going to have to do this the hard way.”
“Meta,” Oran Rva said, “to me.”
She didn’t move.
The New Man glanced at her. “Did you hear my command?”
Meta said nothing.
The New Man turned faster than Maddox would have believed possible. Oran Rva’s knife sank through Meta’s armored vacc-suit into her belly. She moaned painfully. With his other hand, Oran Rva shoved her.
Meta stumbled backward, striking a crystal spire and sinking onto the spongy floor.
Oran Rva faced Maddox, with Meta’s blood dripping from his blade.
Maddox wanted to howl with rage, lower his head and charge the fiend from the Throne World. An icy part of him told the captain he would certainly lose if he did that. That was exactly what Oran Rva wanted him to do. He’d never faced a deadlier opponent.
Feeling surreal, Maddox took a viper stick stance. This was awkward in a vacc-suit. Instead of a whippy instrument, he gripped a slarn knife, a length of deadly tri-steel.
“That was a mistake,” Maddox said, his voice hyper-calm.
“Does the pup seek to instruct the wolf?” Oran Rva sneered. “That is poor form, hybrid. I am your better.”
“Which is why you’re trying to eliminate us one by one, right?” Maddox said.
“Why yes, because that is the best tactic.”
Maddox’s eyes narrowed, as did his focus. “I will kill you, Oran Rva.”
“Boasts, Captain?”
“A statement of my intent, rather,” Maddox said.
Out of the corner of his visor, the captain saw Keith. The ace gripped the sergeant’s trench knife with its tungsten knuckles over the vacc-gloves. The pilot stepped hesitantly like someone afraid of knives.
Where was Riker? The sergeant wouldn’t stay out of this. Was Meta alive or bleeding to death?
No. I must remove her from my thoughts.
Maddox refused to dwell on the doomsday machine either. This was the moment of supreme concentration. This would be the duel of his life.
Maddox narrowed his focus onto Oran Rva and the New Man’s blade. It was shorter than the slarn knife. Why had the blaster failed to fire? Why hadn’t the flat device worked for long in this room? There had to be some sort of dampener field in place.
The captain felt it then. The greater Gs. He swished his knife-arm back and forth. There was resistance in the air, and he moved too sluggishly.
“I beat you in the Tannish System,” Maddox said, hoping to goad Oran Rva into making a mistake.
“All is forgiven, hybrid,” the New Man said. “You see, it showed me a greater path. I am taking control of the only war machine that matters now. I am about to become king.”
Maddox emptied himself of emotion, of extraneous thoughts. In the viper stick stance, he began to approach the other. He concentrated on the tip of his knife. The goal of these next few minutes would be to bury it in his opponent’s heart. First, he must test the other. He must gauge the reflexes and cunning.
Oran Rva closed in a similar manner, with the shorter knife thrust low and outward.
Maddox noted the lean features. They were like his, more so than anyone else he’d seen to date. He caught the golden hue of the skin, the intense eyes blacker than sin. He wondered for a second if Oran Rva could have been his father.
“You desire to ask me questions,” the New Man said. “But I say to you: surrender or die, hybrid.”
“You will allow me to surrender?” Maddox asked.
“Put the knife on the deck and—”
“No!” Keith shouted. The ace launched himself at the New Man, moving in slow motion. Keith held the trench knife before him like a shield.
Maddox had hoped to lull Oran Rva. Instead, the captain had demoralized one of his own men into attacking prematurely.
To save Keith, the captain began his attack approach while maintaining the viper stick stance.
Oran Rva spun, moving at Keith and then leaning, thrusting with his long reach. The ace stopped short and slashed down, no doubt attempting to block the enemy knife. Stopping short did more than the blocking move to help save Keith’s life. Oran Rva’s knife-tip touched the armored vacc-suit instead of sinking into it.
Maddox strove to reach Oran Rva in time. The New Man stepped toward Keith. The ace already twisted away, diving for the floor. The tactic led Maddox to believe that Keith hadn’t been blindly charging the enemy, but pretending to be a fool.
Oran Rva came up out of his knife-fighting stance, standing tall. He made a short run at Keith and lashed out with his foot. The boot connected with Keith’s chest. That would have cracked some ribs. The kick propelled the fallen pilot several meters. Worse, Keith went limp, groaning through Maddox’s headphones.
Maddox lunged. Oran Rva spun around impossibly fast in this alien environment. The New Man’s blade clinked against the captain’s, blocking the thrust.
Maddox tried a quick, slashing cut. The New Man blocked that, too. In five seconds, the captain practiced another three attacks. Each time, Oran Rva produced a spark and a notch in the blades as the knives clashed against each other.
Finally, the captain retreated. He saw the gleam in Oran Rva’s dark eyes. A triumphant, cool smile appeared on the New Man’s face.
“I am much better than you are, Captain.”
“Why didn’t you kill me then?” Maddox taunted.
“You figure it out.”
No. Maddox wasn’t going to fall for that gambit. He would not try to overthink this. Knife dueling against a superior opponent was a time for reflexes and swift ploys. To that end, the captain controlled his breathing, watching for an opening. He refused to dwell on the very real possibility that Oran Rva was going to murder the lot of them and take control of the doomsday machine.
A feeling of futility swept through Maddox. Whom was he fooling? The New Man’s strength and speed—the captain shook his head. He could win this. He just had to figure out how.
“Your woman is dying,” Oran Rva said. “I crushed your friend’s chest. Your last companion is a coward, hiding. I suspect he is bewildered.”
“Fine,” Maddox said. “That just leaves you and me. It will make my victory sweeter by winning it alone.”
“Yes,” Oran Rva said. “We are all alone. The weaklings bleat to each other, seeking comfort in this cold universe. We of the Throne World realize that each man is an island unto himself. We strive against each other, seeking honor. I am the dominant here. You are the inferior. Goodbye, Captain Maddox, I thank you for this brief moment of sport.”
The New Man advanced.
Maddox retreated.
Oran Rva chuckled. “Do you think I do not know your tactic? But go ahead, proceed with it.”
Maddox did just that, concentrating on trying to get ready for the right moment to attack.
Suddenly, Oran Rva surprised him. The New Man straightened once more and dashed for a spire. A second later, Riker tried to run away from behind that spire. The enemy strained to reach the sergeant.
Maddox shouted, and he, too, ran, but after the New Man. He knew what Riker had been going to do. Why was he so slow?
Oran Rva closed the distance. At the last moment, Riker stopped and turned, hurling the length of his broken bionic forearm and hand at the New Man, the one Riker had been carrying. The tall man reached out, catching the forearm by the hand. He swung the bionic piece at Riker.