Maddox digested her words. “Tell me this then. Why did my mother’s trail lead into the Beyond? What was she running from?”
“At this point, we simply don’t know. Therefore, you shouldn’t let possibilities bother you.”
He wanted to grab at this hope. Maybe I’m not part New Man. Then reality, at least as he saw it, resettled in his heart. Yet, what other explanation is there? What has the highest probability? That I’m a half-breed: a genetic experiment that got away from the New Men.
“You must put this behind you,” the brigadier said. “In reality, your origins don’t matter. It’s who you are now that counts.”
Yes, who am I? Maddox decided to shelf the probing for the moment. Still, a cynical smile touched his lips as he looked at the brigadier. “On to the second question then,” he said. “Why tell these things now?”
“My dear boy, isn’t it obvious? Yes, some will think you’re merely being clever, thinking four or five moves ahead of us. You’re telling me this to hide your tracks, taking a gamble with me.”
Maddox felt his heart go cold. Despite her earlier words, it sounded as if O’Hara believed he really had New Men genetics.
“I know you have a good heart and good intentions,” O’Hara said, “but more importantly, so does he.”
“He?” asked Maddox. “Who is he?”
A secret door slid open, startling Maddox. A large man with a red face and a white uniform stepped into the room.
“Me,” Lord High Admiral Cook said. “I don’t think you’re a plant or a sleeper. I believe you’re just the man we need to give us an edge against the New Men before they begin their invasion in earnest.”
-6-
Maddox stared at the Lord High Admiral. He hadn’t expected this.
The brigadier rose and began to move from her desk.
“Stay seated,” Cook told her. “You, too, young man.”
Maddox had belatedly shot to his feet. He paused for a second and then sat back down.
The big man moved stiffly, as if he had bad knees. He probably did. Maddox wondered how old the Lord High Admiral was. Probably older than the brigadier.
With a grunt and the creak of his chair, Cook settled himself. Apparently satisfied with his position, the Lord High Admiral turned to him.
“You’ve made this much easier for us, my boy. I appreciate that. I admit I had a reservation or two about you. Not anymore. You have my complete trust.”
“Thank you, sir,” Maddox said.
“No, no. I thank you. The New Men situation baffles me. How could three ships demolish an entire strengthened battle group like that? Oh, I grant you, the New Men had several edges. They caught von Gunther’s people gripped in Jump Lag. And that beam of theirs that cuts through shields is a real killer. It was all too brisk against armor too.”
“May I ask a question, sir?” Maddox asked.
“Son,” Cook said, “you can ask me all the questions you want, if you do it during the next half hour. That’s all the time I can spare—that you can spare. If we’re going to make this work, you’re going to have to leave fast.”
The accelerated tempo and scope of these events shook Maddox. He needed time to adjust. No. He had run out of time, hadn’t he? He’d have to do his deep thinking later. Right now, he had to go with this and see where it led. The Lord High Admiral had said he could ask anything he wanted. Well, all right then.
“Sir,” Maddox said, “do we have any idea of the number of starships the New Men possess.”
“No idea at all,” Cook said. “Logically, though, we should have more vessels than they do. They started with a tinier base and can’t have anything close to our population levels. However, Admiral Fletcher’s suggestion of compiling one giant armada and rushing them seems too risky. They would surely learn of such a massive gathering. They might also take the opportunity to target our unprotected industrial planets and bomb us back into a primeval age.
“My boy, because the stakes are so high, we’ve decided to use caution and approach this like an interstellar war. That means blocking key jump routes, guarding our most important systems and attacking their strategic lines and industrial bases. If you’re captured, you can tell them all this.”
“I don’t plan on getting caught,” Maddox said.
“Glad to hear it,” the Lord High Admiral said. “Naturally, we’ve sent Patrol scouts into the Beyond.”
The Patrol arm of Star Watch went on the deep recon missions. They were the risk takers and they often traveled years at a time, searching new star systems, expanding the Commonwealth’s knowledge of the Beyond.
“We have to learn more about the New Men,” Cook said. “I mean, actually learn something concrete about them. I don’t have much faith in those missions, though. Likely, we’ll never see those Patrol scouts again, which is a shame.”
The Lord High Admiral’s jawline tightened. “Son, let me tell you, it’s no fun sending volunteers to their deaths. I don’t like it one bit. This isn’t a cold game to me, where people become counters to move across a board. This is a death struggle of competing races, winner take all. I believe that with all my heart.”
The Lord High Admiral glanced at the brigadier. Then, he refocused on Maddox.
The captain could feel the man’s force of will. The Lord High Admiral must have hooded some of it during the meeting yesterday. Not now. Those green eyes studied him with fierce intensity.
“I’ve felt for some time that our enemy believes he’s superior to normal humans,” Cook said. “The people he uses as agents—” The Lord High Admiral waved his big hands. “We don’t have time for a history lesson. They didn’t have to move at this precise moment if they didn’t want to. That they did invade the Oikumene seems to indicate they feel they have enough resources to defeat us.”
From her desk, O’Hara cleared her throat.
“Not now, Brigadier,” Cook said. He focused on Maddox again. “We don’t know their politics. That’s her point. We don’t know their situation. Maybe they’re like the ancient Ostrogoths who fled before Attila the Hun’s grandfather. Maybe some truly wicked aliens are out there pushing the New Men into us. I doubt it, but we don’t know. We’re clueless about far too much. One thing we have an eyewitness to—Noonan and her lifeboat crew told us how three cruisers slaughtered a Star Watch battle group.”
“Could they have planted that?” Maddox asked. “Could they have captured Noonan and given her false memories about what really happened?”
“Sure they could have,” Cook said. “We have experts trying to deduce just that. Some believe that’s the actual case. It’s too hard for most of us to accept three ships doing what they did. Maybe in reality the battle was a slugfest with nearly even sides. The New Men won, captured Noonan and brainwashed her into thinking what she told us. There aren’t any mental marks or other evidence pointing to that, but anything is possible, I suppose.”
Cook shrugged. “If that’s the case, though, we have much less to worry about. Then, when our main fleets engage, we’ll do much better than we thought we would. We’re fools if we hope Noonan’s evidence is wrong. These New Men are a menace beyond anything we expected. And that’s where you come in, Captain.”
“I can’t see how one man can make much of a difference in this,” Maddox said.
“Firstly,” Cook said. “You won’t be one man. You’ll be part of a team, a very unusual team, to be sure.”
Maddox noticed the Lord High Admiral and the Iron Lady trading glances. Okay then.
“How can one team make a difference in such a broad war?” he asked.