“What did happen?” Maddox asked.
Dana blinked several times before sighing. “It would have been worse if the Star Watch handed me over to the syndic. A clause in Star Watch rules didn’t permit them to give me to a judicial system that has the death penalty. That was something, I suppose. Instead, the oh-so noble Star Watch held a kangaroo court. Afterward, they dropped me onto Loki Prime, where they intended I rot forever.”
“Until they sent me to come and get you,” Maddox said.
“Because you needed my skills,” Dana said.
Maddox clasped his hands behind his back. He nodded solemnly. “I can understand your anger. You helped your people, and they turned their back on you. Yes, that is ingratitude of the worst sort. I wonder, though, have you ever thought about the clones?”
“What about them?”
“You set them up for failure. You must have realized they never had a chance. The syndic’s hitmen would eventually find them. They were ciphers in the game of nations.”
“Your point is what, exactly?” Dana asked.
“The very thing you hold against the Star Watch, you did to the clones.”
“You’re saying I’m not a nice person?”
“I’m not a nice person,” Maddox said. “You and I cut corners. But we get things done. That’s why the brigadier chose me and told me to get you.”
“Are you saying we’re no different than the New Men?”
“No,” Maddox said. “I’m not saying that at all. I suppose our end-goals are what matters.”
“The ends justify the means?” Dana asked.
“The New Men are attacking the Oikumene with all its various faults,” Maddox said. “We have peaceful worlds and those like the Social Syndicate with its illegal clones. None of that matters to the New Men. It would appear they plan to exterminate us or install a master-slave relationship of them over all of us. To protect your people, you played dirty with the Social Syndicate. The clones were caught in the middle. I’m not saying you did right by them, but it’s not as bad as what the New Men plan to do with us.”
“The clones originally lived to supply body-parts to the Social Syndicate leadership as they aged,” Dana said. “I helped give the clones something more.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” Maddox brightened. “Maybe that’s how you should think about the Star Watch.”
“They didn’t give me something more,” Dana said. ‘They stuck me on Loki Prime.”
“No. They gave you life instead of death. That’s what the syndic would have done to you. Then, the head of the Star Watch sent me to come and get you. I took you off Loki Prime. What I really want to know is if you’re going to remain on my side for the long haul.”
“Even if I tell you I am, will you trust me completely?”
“I think you already know the answer,” Maddox said. “I’m a spymaster before I’m a starship captain. Maybe if we hang together long enough, I’ll become more of a captain than a spymaster, and then I’ll trust you implicitly.”
Dana snorted. “Okay. Fair enough, Captain. Yes. I’m going to fulfill my oath, at least long enough for me to pull you out of your own Loki Prime. Then we’ll be even.”
“I’ll accept that,” Maddox said. “Let’s shake on it.”
Doctor Rich thrust out her right hand. They shook, and then they got to work on the AI system.
-40-
Sergeant Treggason Riker paused as he walked through a cleared corridor toward the bridge. The starship’s jump alarm had just sounded.
Riker knelt and then decided his old joints could use all the rest he could give them. He sat down on the deck. A second later, the combination of jump sensations, then quiet and finally, disorienting colors and noises slammed down on his head. He hated jumping, but he was fiercely glad the doctor, Meta and the indomitable Captain Maddox had restarted the AI and convinced it to pilot the starship for a time.
Unlike Lieutenant Noonan, the sergeant didn’t care how they managed such a feat. He had learned a long time ago not to question Captain Maddox.
With the jump completed—the others would need time to recalibrate a host of things before they jumped again—Riker climbed to his feet. His left knee popped and pain flared. Ever since Loki Prime, he’d never quite been the same. That had been a screw-up all right: dropped onto the worst prison planet in the Commonwealth. Only Maddox’s flair for doing the impossible had saved his old hide.
As the sergeant limped for the bridge, Riker recalled the first time he’d seen Maddox do the incredible. They had stalked a supposed cat thief, a veritable spider of a man. Interestingly, they had nailed the suspect at a Nerva laboratory.
The sergeant knew himself to be very old school. An Intelligence operative solved cases through diligence, hard work and asking endless questions and data searches. Eventually, somewhere, the criminal made a mistake. Often, that mistake was bragging about his deed to the wrong person.
That person was usually his girlfriend. It was a tried and true fact. The thief knew the importance of silence, so he kept his mouth shut for weeks, maybe even months. Finally, though, he had to tell someone. He’d committed a fantastic heist, and no one knew how splendid he was. So, one day, the thief would set his girl on his knee and say, “Honey, what I’m about to tell you has to stay just between you and me.”
“Of course,” she always said, “I won’t tell a soul, darling.”
“I’ll have to kill you if you do,” the thief would often say.
“Cross my heart and hope to die if I squeak a word, my love.”
Satisfied with the reply, the thief would tell his woman exactly what he’d done. She’d laugh with delight, hug him and they would go to the bedroom and seal their love for each other.
Time would pass, and the woman would simmer with pride about her man. Finally, her pride would boil over. She’d pull aside her best friend, and say, “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. It will mean my man’s death if you speak a word about this.”
“You can count on me,” the girlfriend would say. “I won’t tell anyone, not even my husband.”
Satisfied, the woman would explain her man’s daring exploit.
The new informant would keep the secret for maybe an entire day. Finally, at night, she’d turn on her pillow and whisper, “You should hear what I know. It’s too bad I promised never to tell anyone.”
“What is it?” the husband would ask sleepily.
“I can’t say.”
“Come on. You have me curious. Tell me already.”
“Do you promise never to tell anyone?”
“Yeah, yeah, I promise already,” the husband would say. He’d hear the story, be duly impressed at the daring and tell his buddies at work about it the next day.
Finally, with his ear to the ground, asking his questions and making data searches, Riker would hear a tidbit. Over the course of several days of footwork and questioning, he’d follow the story to its source. Then, they would catch the thief because the man had to tell someone about his feat.
That was old school Intelligence work, and Captain Maddox knew very little about it. The lean man with his unnatural quickness and athletic prowess must consider himself a lion or leopard in disguise.
Riker recalled that time in the Nerva laboratory at night in the Black Forest in Germany. Maddox had a theory the cat thief would strike that night, and he’d been right. They had chased the man through the building. The thief had raced to a window with his climbing gear still on. Using suction cups, the thief had scaled away outside on the wall.
Maddox sprinted to the window. Riker remembered his lungs aching as he ran to keep up. That hadn’t compared to the astonishment he felt as the captain climbed out the window and began scaling after the thief.