SF Books by Vaughn Heppner

  THE A.I. SERIES:

  A.I. Destroyer

  The A.I. Gene

  A.I. Assault

  A.I. Battle Station

  A.I. Battle Fleet

  A.I. Void Ship

  A.I. Rescue

  A.I. Armada

  LOST STARSHIP SERIES:

  The Lost Starship

  The Lost Command

  The Lost Destroyer

  The Lost Colony

  The Lost Patrol

  The Lost Planet

  The Lost Earth

  The Lost Artifact

  The Lost Star Gate

  The Lost Supernova

  The Lost Swarm

  The Lost Intelligence

  The Lost Tech

  The Lost Secret

  The Lost Barrier

  The Lost Nebula

  The Lost Relic

  The Lost Task Force

  The Lost Clone

  Visit VaughnHeppner.com for more information

  The Lost Clone

  (Lost Starship Series 19)

  Vaughn Heppner

  Illustration © Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

  Copyright © 2023 by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

  -1-

  Captain Maddox awoke by degrees, each sensation dreamlike and surreal. Then, all at once, he became alert as his eyes snapped open.

  There was a blurry face before him, a dark lower part—that was the mouth, an open mouth. He could tell by the teeth. Maybe the person shouted at him. What was the other yelling and why couldn’t he hear them?

  Maddox frowned. He was freezing, the entirety of him, from toes to the crown of his head. Every time he breathed, it felt as if icicles pressed against his inner throat.

  There was no logical reason for that, at least none that Maddox could remember. There was no logical reason for any of this.

  Why can’t I move?

  The question focused Maddox, bringing his concentration to bear. He would start with the other, figure out what was going on with the person.

  The face was behind glass, or a substance like glass. There was something remarkably familiar about the face. The man—it was definitely a man—seemed urgent and worried. Faint sounds penetrated the glass, but Maddox had no idea what the other shouted or why.

  Second question then. Why couldn’t he move? Maddox became aware that straps held him down. The straps cinched his chest, stomach, thighs, ankles, biceps and wrists. What was the reason for that?

  The only conclusion he came up with was that someone had captured him. He couldn’t remember who or why or even how.

  Icy air circulated in the box—

  Yes! This was a box but it felt like a coffin. What did that tell him? He had no idea, so… He concentrated, trying to kick-start his brain. It felt like…he’d woken from death.

  That’s an emotional response. You need to do better. Get in the game, Captain.

  He hadn’t been dead, as he wouldn’t now be alive. Still, the idea of death, the confinement and icy air swirling around him—

  He had to get out of here. Panic had built as he’d been thinking. Maddox surged, trying to twist free of the confining straps. That did less than help the situation: it nearly wrenched tendons and muscles. Pain knifed in places, and that increased his claustrophobia.

  Maddox grunted, working to regain control of himself. When he succeeded, he sucked down air.

  The freezing cold hurt his throat. Damn this was icy.

  That told him what. Had they frozen his body? That would be akin to death, the reason for the feeling of rebirth. Was he in some kind of cryogenic stasis, coming out of it?

  That made sense.

  The blurry face behind the glass disappeared. Opening locks made faint noises around him. A great lid lifted. Warm air flowed over his body. That felt good, so desperately good.

  A man in a dark uniform pushed the heavy lid to the side. It must have been on hinges. The man stared down at him.

  “Maddox,” the man said.

  Maddox stared up at the man. He was tall and leanly muscular with dark hair—it was like looking in a mirror. The man looked just like him.

  “Are you awake?” the man asked.

  Maddox opened his mouth and tried to speak. Instead, he made a croaking sound.

  “Try to relax,” the man said. “You’re waking up, thawing out, if you want to be technical. Are you relaxed yet?”

  Maddox barely nodded. It was all he could achieve.

  “Good,” the man said. “Now, it’s time to move you. First, I have to get the binding off and then you need to help me raise you.”

  Maddox wanted to agree, but new, compelling thoughts intruded. He’d been on his way to the refugee planet of the living Adoks. A while back, the crew of Victory had rescued the Adoks from the Glenna Nebula. Galyan had been pestering him about it, talking about keeping his sworn word and such. Galyan wanted to unite with the living Adoks. Unfortunately, they were terrified of all deified Adok AIs, of which Galyan was one. Maddox had promised to help Galyan change that. The Lord High Admiral had agreed. Meta and Jewel had joined him on Victory. The starship had almost made it to the refugee planet. They had to go through a Laumer Point first. The Adoks had insisted it was the only gate to their star system. No. Wait. Victory had gone through the Laumer Point.

  Why can’t I remember anything after that?

  “Hey,” the man said, snapping his fingers in front of Maddox’s face. “You need to focus, stay in the here and now. Do you understand me?”

  Maddox nodded the faintest bit.

  “Good,” the man said, producing a monofilament blade.

  The knife looked awful familiar. Then Maddox realized why. It was his monofilament knife. Had the man stolen it from him?

  “Don’t move a muscle,” the man said, using a voice Maddox had heard all his life, as it was his own.

  Maddox scowled. This was weird. Where was the starship? Where was Galyan? Where were Meta and Jewel? Why was he in a cryogenic unit?

  The knife sliced through the straps.

  Carefully, the other slid the blade into its special sheath. He then reached in, grabbing cold flesh. Maddox knew because the man’s hands burned with welcome heat.

  The man strained, pulling Maddox up.

  Maddox made a croaking sound as he tried to speak again.

  “I know,” the man said. “You’re confused. That makes sense. I was confused earlier myself.”

  Maddox barely shook his head. Why would the two things be related?

  “That doesn’t make sense to you,” the man said. “I get it. Let me help you up. We’re in danger, by the way, terrible danger, in truth. I need your expertise to help me—us, get out of the danger.”

  Maddox tried to help, but he was the next thing to limp. Nevertheless, the strong man helped him stand upright and step out of the cryo unit. That’s when Maddox realized he was naked.

  “A hot shower will help you revive faster,” the man said.

  Maddox stared at the other. Why did the man look exactly like him? Could the man be his clone?

  The idea started Maddox’s heart to thumping. His heart hurt it hammered so hard.

  “Take it easy,” the man said. “You need to relax. Breathe deeply. You’re going to be okay.”

  Maddox managed to twist his head and look around. They were in a cargo hold or what looked like a cargo hold. There were other cryo units with cords snaking away from them on the deck. Some of the units had bits of coating frost. Was he on a spaceship?

  The man moved him, so Maddox’s naked feet slapped the deck each time. The process was undignified, making him feel uselessly weak.

  Before them, a hatch opened automatically. They moved into what seemed like a ship’s corridor. Maddox sensed a thrum against the soles of his feet. Such a thrum might come from a ship’s engine.

  “Hang in there, buddy,” the man said. “You’ve got this. You’re tough. I ought to know.”

  Maddox squeezed his eyes closed. Could this be a nightmare? It felt surreal, but it also felt real. He opened his eyes. They faced another hatch. He had no idea how long they’d been walking, but it felt as if time had passed.

  The hatch opened. They entered crew quarters. The man moved Maddox through various rooms until they stood before a small shower stall.

  They squeezed in together. It was a tight fit. The man lowered Maddox until his naked butt was pressed against the drain. The man let go of him and stepped out of the shower stall.

  “I’ll turn it on hot,” the man said. “The rest is up to you.”

  Maddox stared at the man, the possible clone. He felt so weak, so helpless. He hated this.

  “You’re experiencing cryogenic feebleness,” the man said, seeming to divine Maddox’s thoughts. “It’ll pass. It’d better. I need your help. Nod if you understand me.”

  Maddox managed to nod.

  The man grinned, reaching in, turning a shower-stall handle.

  Maddox managed to look up as warm water sprayed against his face.
How had he gotten onto the spaceship? What had happened to Victory and the others? Was this because the Adoks were terrified of Galyan?

  The warm water got hotter.

  Maddox realized he’d better concentrate, or hot water might soon scald his face. He had to get a grip. As he thought this, he was shivering, and the water was helping with his revival, just as the man had said.

  Would it help him fast enough? It was time to fight through the weakness and find out was in the hell was going on.

  -2-

  A klaxon had started its blaring noise and kept ringing. It woke Maddox from slumber. Hot shower water struck the back of his neck. It felt so good, so relaxing. It was too hot, he was sure, maybe even blistering, but at least he wasn’t cold any more.

  With a groan, Maddox crawled out of the shower. He began shivering immediately, the mild shivers soon turning desperate.

  As his teeth chattered, Maddox used the stall’s edge to work up to his feet. He pulled a towel free and dried himself. It was hard to do. He was still cold afterward, but it wasn’t as awful as just seconds ago. He also learned that his neck hadn’t blistered, as he’d feared.

  He looked around. The man was gone.

  Did the klaxon have something to do with the man’s absence?

  Painfully, slowly, by leaning against a wall, Maddox slid out of the bathroom into a bedroom. There were garments laid out on the bed. To get there, he’d have to leave the wall and cross the room.

  He pushed off, staggered several steps, tripped and collapsed onto the floor.

  His muscles were still too flaccid. He breathed rapidly and started shivering again. Maybe just as bad, his left wrist hurt because he’d caught himself with that hand.

  This wasn’t any good. He was Captain Maddox. He was the di-far. It was wrong for him to lie here like a broken fool.

  Maddox forced himself to crawl. The effort helped against the shivers but made his wrist hurt more. On reaching the bed, he worked up until he lay gasping upon it, with his toes yet pressed against the floor.

  Pushing farther up, he rolled onto his side and found a pair of briefs. It was a struggle, but he put them on. He felt better wearing briefs and started with the slacks.

  After a time, he wore them, too. He pushed until he sat up. In that way, he donned the dress shirt but forewent the officer’s jacket. He buttoned the shirt, tucked the ends into the pants and cinched the belt.

  He sat like that for a time until he realized that he no longer shivered. Good. That was good. The man still hadn’t returned. The klaxon had quit ringing some time ago, too.

  Was the last part good or bad?

  To find out, he needed to search. That was the impulse he needed to start moving again.

  Leaning over, he spied socks and boots on the floor. They were at the foot of the bed.

  It was time to do this.

  Maddox slid down, put on the socks and slipped on the boots. They fit. They ought to, as they were his. He tried standing.

  He succeeded without using the bed. He wasn’t panting, either. His heart no longer hammered, and his head had stopped hurting. His left wrist no longer felt so bad, either. Was the stasis feebleness finally wearing off?

  He said, “Hello,” to find out if anyone else was around. Unfortunately, the word came out like a croak.

  Maddox cleared his throat several times and said “Hello,” again, louder than before.

  No one answered him.

  Maddox shifted up and sat on the edge of the bed, examining the room. There was nothing personal about it. Except for his clothes, it was a bare bedroom. It was large, though. Was this a master wardroom on a warship? Or was this a civilian liner?

  Maddox frowned. He remembered sitting in the captain’s chair on Victory’s bridge. He had no idea how long ago that was. He’d given an order to enter the Laumer Point. The starship had gone through. He was sure of it.

  His head began to throb as he tried to remember what had happened next. The starship had gone through. What had been on the other side of the wormhole?

  Had the Adoks laid a trap for Victory in order to waylay Galyan? He’d let the Adoks know they were coming. Maddox had been sure that would be better than simply showing up. Had that been a mistake?

  Maddox rubbed his hurting forehead. The throb had finally proved too much. He gasped, deciding he could question the man about these things. Thinking about them hurt his brain too much.

  As Maddox decided that the headache receded although it didn’t altogether quit.

  Maddox scowled. That seemed like a deliberate mind block set there by someone. He wouldn’t let the block remain for long. No one was going to stop him from thinking what he wanted, especially concerning his family and friends.

  Unfortunately, thinking like that had started the throbbing again.

  “No,” he gasped. “I’m letting it go.”

  For now, he told himself.

  Maddox waited until the sharp headache dialed back to dull pain. There were splotches in his vision, but he could manage despite that.

  He forced himself to stand. He swayed at first but then stood there. Experimentally, he took a step, another and then a third.

  He could do this.

  Like a kid getting the hang of walking on stilts, he retained his balance and maneuvered through the crew quarters. In none of the rooms did he gain a sense of occupancy. This place was empty.

  He reached the main hatch. It swished open. He staggered into a corridor, nearly losing his balance but leaning against a bulkhead as the hatch swished shut behind him.

  He examined the corridor. It felt like a spaceship and had a steady thrum all around him. This wasn’t a Star Watch vessel, though. It seemed right for human dimensions, but he hadn’t yet met any humans.

  Maddox looked in both directions, trying to decide which way to go.

  “Hello,” he called, louder than before.

  Like before, there was no answer.

  He cupped his hands around his mouth as if creating a megaphone. “Hello. Can anyone hear me?”

  Maddox cocked his head. It almost seemed as if he heard an echo. How big was the ship?

  Frowning, pushing off the bulkhead, he began to walk. His balance was better but still not perfect. This reminded him too much of the time he’d gone to the strange barrier across the Milky Way Galaxy. There had been the empty spaceship where the woman had died, shot in the stomach by Ardazirhos. The humanoid wolf aliens had escaped the spaceship through a portal. Did this have anything to do with Ardazirhos or the Mastermind? Maddox had helped destroy the Cosmic Computer, the Mastermind’s double, twin or something. Could this be vengeance?

  Maddox sniffed. He didn’t smell Ardazirhos, although that didn’t prove anything. What had happened to the man who’d looked like him? Where had he gone?

  I have to find Meta and Jewel. I have to find out what happened to them.

  In the beginning, it hadn’t seemed like a mistake bringing them along on the mission to visit the living Adoks. Now, Maddox realized it had been a mistake. If anything bad had happened to them…

  He bent his head, the painful mind-throb returning with a vengeance.

  He gritted his teeth, enduring. He wasn’t a dog that someone could train through pain. He would think about his wife and child as much as he damned well pleased. He wouldn’t—

  Maddox groaned, as the pain became too much. He focused on the idea of finding the man.

  By degrees, the throb subsided.

  The man, he had to find—

  Maddox saw a porthole ahead, a tiny round window in the bulkhead. He hurried there, made a funnel with his hands and pressed the forward edge against the glass. He peered through his cupped hands, looking and studying space.

  There were patches of stars here and there, and lots of nebula darkness. There were also swirls of purple energy in the distance. Nearer were streaks that seemed like comets dashing across Earth’s night sky—except this was outer space somewhere.

  Some of the comet-like streaks flew near the porthole.

  The spaceship shuddered. Metallic sounds groaned like whales from a place deeper in the vessel.

  Without using his hands to help filter out light, Maddox pressed his face against the glass, shifting to the side in order to see if any of the ship had ruptured. He couldn’t tell.