Will I ever get a better opportunity to attack the Morag?

  Galyan did not think so. The Morag had threatened Maddox, had threatened the entire crew of Victory. Grutch thus threatened his family.

  I must act decisively.

  Aboard Victory in the central armored chamber, a machine built up power. Inside the Morag stealth ship, Galyan calculated the weight of the creature, the resiliency of the gelatinous mass and recovery potential.

  I may never get another opportunity like this, Galyan realized.

  An alarm began to clang in the Morag’s control chamber.

  Grutch made warbling sounds as tentacles lashed here and there. Eyestalks peered at separate screens, and then eyestalks lengthened and whipped about to stare exactly at the spot where Galyan hovered in ultra-ghost mode.

  The Adok holoimage acted, even though he thought he hadn’t built up a great enough charge.

  Grutch wailed in misery and tentacles lashed elsewhere. The stealth ship powered up.

  Galyan zoomed forward, seeking to reach the gelatinous mass of the Morag. As he did so, Galyan summoned the energy from Victory’s core. It came. Galyan reached the horrible bug-eyed monster and released the pent-up energy into the heavy mass of wobbling flesh.

  The discharge of energy flooded outward from the holoimage that was inside the pink-gray mass of flesh. At the same time, the stealth ship and its occupant began to teleport from its present position to elsewhere.

  Galyan heard a horrendous scream. He sensed burnt and stinking wobbling flesh—and then he found himself alone in space. The Morag stealth ship had teleported elsewhere, leaving his holoimage behind.

  Did I kill Grutch?

  Galyan did not think so. He had hurt the Morag, though. Would that convince the creature to stay away from Victory?

  Galyan did not have enough data to compute a reasonable answer. He had hurt Grutch, and Galyan felt good about that.

  He vanished from his position seven thousand kilometers outside Victory, wondering how the captain was doing with the director of the four-warship Fusion flotilla.

  -38-

  Maddox sat in his captain’s chair, reclining at ease as he faced the Fusion flotilla director on the main screen.

  Her name was Fax Anora from New Trotsky, which the captain surmised was the name of the Star System and possible main planet. From the little they’d spoken so far, he’d gleaned several useful points. The New Trotsky System was in the Glenna Nebula. Fax Anora and her colleagues had a faster-than-light drive that only seemed to work in the dense gases of the nebula.

  Maddox hadn’t learned the last point from the director, but from Andros Crank, his science officer and a Kai-Kaus Chief Technician. Andros had learned that from studying the four ships and replaying what they’d first sensed regarding the warships.

  The four vessels had collapsium hull armor, which was superior to Victory’s hull armor. Normally, Victory relied upon her shield more. But in the dense gas of the nebula, the shield had become unreliable.

  That would not bode well in case they had to start a firefight with the Fusion warships.

  It was interesting to Maddox that from his dream he recalled the Fusion reaching Remus, and that it hadn’t been a good thing. In fact, it had started a war. He did not mention that to the director. Instead, for the past fifteen minutes, they had played around with translators and language computers, attempting to speak to each other.

  The director was small, in her mid-fifties with a blue-colored buzz cut and a red uniform with white braid. She had stern features and seemed smart and quick.

  A tall woman stood behind her. That one wore a black uniform, had long, humorless features and listened to the exchange with interest.

  Maddox knew the tall woman’s type just by looking at her. She was a security officer, maybe even with authority, perhaps political authority, over the director. He’d seen Anora glance back once or twice over her shoulder, as if for confirmation about what she’d said.

  “Captain Maddox,” Director Anora now said. “I find it difficult to believe that you’re from Manhome.” She’d asked him about that and he’d given an affirmative. “Manhome is a vast distance from here, and everyone knows that moving through normal space takes a long time.”

  “Are those on New Trotsky originally from Manhome?” Maddox asked.

  The black-uniformed security officer frowned and cleared her throat.

  The director must have heard that, as she sat up. “Your question strikes me as impertinent and overly inquisitive, Captain.”

  “I didn’t mean it as such, but as polite inquiry.”

  “Hmm,” Anora said. “Let’s get down to it, shall we? What are you doing in Fusion space?”

  “Exploring.”

  “For what reason?”

  “For this very reason,” Maddox said, pleasantly. “We wish to find new worlds and new peoples such as you.”

  “In order to exploit us?” Anora asked, angrily.

  “No,” Maddox said. “In order to create friendships and learn new things.”

  Director Anora glanced back at the security officer before regarding Maddox again. “I see. Yes. Well, I officially welcome you to the nebula, sir. I now ask that you and your chief commanders come to my flagship, the Josef Stalin, so we may become acquainted with each other.”

  “That is a kind gesture,” Maddox said. “Will you send an equal number of command grade officers to Victory while we go to you?”

  “I see no reason to do so,” Anora said. “You are in our territory and thus our guests. I will expect you in an hour.”

  The security officer cleared her throat again.

  “In a half hour,” Anora amended.

  Maddox put a hand against his right ear as if he heard someone else. Looking up, he said, “I’ll have to take a vote on that.”

  “What did you say?” asked Anora, sounding surprised.

  “A vote,” Maddox said. “We work by committee here on Victory.”

  Both the security officer and Director Anora were frowning.

  “You come from a democratic system?” Anora asked.

  “A communist system,” Maddox answered.

  Ludendorff had been talking into an earbud, giving him advice regarding the New Trotskyites. Certain words, word choices and ideas had given away their political orientation, at least to the Methuselah Man.

  “You think we’re communists?” Anora asked.

  “I don’t know what you are,” Maddox said.

  “Social Harmony is our creed,” Anora said. “Do you oppose that?”

  “I would need to know more about it,” Maddox said. “We believe that everyone should receive according to his needs. We must also all pull together for the greater good.”

  Surprise showed on Director Anora’s face. “This is—”

  The security officer sharply cleared her throat.

  Anora paused before saying, “It’s good to see that you’re rational people.”

  “That’s interesting,” Maddox said. “I was going to say the same thing about you.”

  “Good, good,” Ludendorff whispered into Maddox’s ear from the embedded earbud.

  “Well,” Anora said. “Shall I see you in a half hour then?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Maddox said.

  “No,” the security officer said.

  Director Anora looked back at her.

  “No,” the security officer said again, quieter than before but with greater emphasis.

  Director Anora faced forward. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on your immediate arrival, Captain. I didn’t want to say this, but we are even now powering up the laser emitters. I hope you do not force me to order your destruction.”

  “Please, Director,” Maddox said, putting a whiny note into his voice. “There is no need for that. While we do vote on such matters, my suggestion will carry great weight. Could you extend your offer to forty-five minutes? I might need the extra time to convince the rest that you’re sincere in your…intentions.”

  The security officer mumbled something under her voice.

  “Yes,” Anora said. “I can add an extra fifteen minutes. You truly vote on this?”

  “Oh, yes,” Maddox said. “This is a democratic vessel. The workers all have a say, speaking through their ship representatives.”

  “And this works?” Anora asked.

  In that moment, Maddox understood. Director Anora was playing for time, perhaps even against her own security officer’s desires. He recognized the maneuver because he’d practiced it himself on many occasions.

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short,” Maddox said. “Some of the ship representatives are already arriving. Until the deadline, Director, goodbye.”

  Maddox made a motion even as Director Anora began to respond.

  Meta cut the link at her comm station.

  Maddox stood, stretching his lower back and withdrawing the bud from his ear.

  Galyan appeared. “Sir, I have attacked Grutch directly. His ship teleported away before I could kill him, or so I believe.”

  “You did what?” asked Maddox. “Never mind, I heard the first time. You don’t have to repeat that. Let me think a moment. I need to figure out the right reaction to Director Anora.”

  “You mean we don’t get to vote?” Meta asked with a twitch of her lips.

  Maddox grinned at his wife for just a moment. Then, he put his hands behind his back, staring at the blank main screen.

  Ludendorff burst through the main hatch. “I hope you’re not thinking about boarding the Josef Stalin.”

  “Eh?” asked Maddox, turning to face Ludendorff. “No, no, of course not—they mean to intern our chief officers at best, or kill us at worst.”

  “Sir,” said Galyan.

  Maddox turned to the holoimage and nodded.

  “Why did the Fusion vessels stop here?” Galyan asked. “Are we near a star system? If not, could the Fusion vessels detect another ship while they traveled faster than light? If they did detect us, does that not imply far superior sensors than ours, at least for operating in the nebula?”

  Maddox considered the questions. He turned to Andros Crank. “Are you still detecting the radiation trail?”

  “I am,” Andros said.

  “Did the Fusion ships move along the trail?” Maddox asked.

  Andros raised his eyebrows before turning to his panel, his pudgy fingers tapping as he examined readings. With a grunt, he turned back to Maddox. “I believe they followed the radiation trail, sir. It’s also possible their drive is creating or reinforcing the radiation trail.”

  “How is that happening?” asked Maddox.

  “I think I know,” Galyan said, as Andros turned back to his science station. “It appears the Fusion vessels have a strange drive. I believe they use the nebula’s compacted gases, energizing them and using it as a rail system, a magnetized system. I do not mean to say they exactly magnetize the gases, but do something analogous, causing a unique reaction that aids in their unique FTL travel.”

  “In other words,” said Maddox, “the radiation trail might lead to Remus.”

  “Sir?” asked Galyan.

  “Sir,” Andros said. “I’m detecting a power build-up in the Fusion ships.”

  “They have target lock on us,” the weapons officer said from his board.

  “Begin emergency evasive maneuvers,” Maddox said. “Mr. Maker, when you’re ready: jump as far as you can.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Keith said, as his fingers began to fly over his helm controls. “Do you want me to continue in the direction we’ve been traveling?”

  “Yes,” Maddox said.

  -39-

  As Keith continued to ready for a star-drive jump, Meta turned. “Captain, Director Anora is hailing Victory.”

  “Put her on the main screen,” Maddox said, as he sat back in the captain’s chair.

  Director Anora reappeared on the main screen. The tall security officer stood at the same position as before behind the director’s chair. “Captain, you’ll surely have noticed that my battlewagons have a target lock on your spaceship. Our laser emitters are energized and ready to begin beaming.”

  “I have noticed,” Maddox said, calmly. “May I ask why you’re doing this?”

  Behind Director Anora, the security officer snorted in derision.

  “I have a duty to the Fusion,” Anora said. “I cannot allow capitalists and saboteurs to trick us by false promises.”

  “Are you implying I’m either?” Maddox asked.

  “There…are those among us who doubt you are holding on vote on your present actions.”

  “But I’m about to hold the vote,” Maddox said, checking his wrist, “in three minutes.”

  Anora’s tongue darted out to touch her lower lip. It seemed she wished to glance back at the security officer, but did not do so.

  “I can set up the vote so you can record it for your political leaders,” Maddox said.

  Anora turned to the side as if to listen to someone unseen. Behind her, the security officer scowled as she made a fist, shaking it.

  “Sir,” Anora said, “my officers are detecting an increase in engine power to your spaceship. I caution you about attempting to try to escape. It will result in your certain destruction.”

  “I don’t understand you,” Maddox said. “We’re powering up in order to close with your vessels in case the vote turns out as I suspect it will. As soon as we’re near enough to your flagship, my chief officers and I shall jetpack to the Josef Stalin.”

  “You will do what?” Anora asked.

  “I have anticipated the ship reps,” Maddox said. “I believe they will respect your authority, ship power and that you have staked out the nebula as your own. Thus, we will maneuver as close as possible to your flagship. Then, my officers and I shall use thruster-packs to fly to your airlock.”

  “Lunacy,” the security officer said.

  “Captain,” Anora said, as she frowned. “Are you suggesting that you don’t have shuttles or launch boats?”

  “What are those?” Maddox asked.

  “Smaller vessels—” Anora began to explain.

  There was a shout over there. The security officer moved forward, bent low and whispered into Anora’s left ear.

  The director looked up sharply. “Captain Maddox, there is a strange energy flux building up in your vessel. I think you’ve been stalling in order to give yourself time.”

  “Not true,” Maddox said. “The flux, as you call it—”

  “Now,” Keith said.

  At that point, the star-drive jump engaged, and the double-oval vessel executed yet another jump, this one farther than the last as it leapt three point four light-years away from its location near the Fusion battlewagons.

  ***

  As Victory’s crew came out of jump lag, both Galyan and Andros noticed the gases were less compact at this location.

  “Sir,” Galyan said. “I am also detecting heavier radiation, which could indicate a nearby star.”

  “I’m seeing that on my sensors as well,” Andros said. “But I’ve also found the Kit Carson.”

  “Put it on the main screen,” Maddox said.

  A few moments later, the sleek Patrol Scout Kit Carson appeared on the screen. A tap by Andros on his panel showed a small satellite it front of the scout’s nose cone.

  “Is that the same type of satellite as we encountered before?” asked Maddox.

  “It has the same mass and configuration,” Andros said, leaning toward a screen on his panel.

  Maddox slammed the armrest on his command chair. He turned to Ludendorff, who was on the bridge. “What do you make of that?”

  “More alien interference against Star Watch crews,” Ludendorff said.

  Maddox swiveled his chair. “Meta, contact the Kit Carson. Tell them a few of us are coming over to them.”

  “Sir,” Galyan said. “I feel that I should point out that the Fusion warships are likely approaching using their FTL nebula drive.”

  “Good point, Galyan,” Maddox said. “Professor, you and Andros will go over to the Kit Carson. See what’s going on over there. Report back to me as soon as you can. I’ll get ready for the four Fusion battlewagons.”

  “Can we successfully engage all four, sir?” Galyan asked.

  “That’s the wrong question,” Maddox said. “Professor, why are you and Andros still here? Get a move on. Get to the Kit Carson at once. Meta—”

  “I have the acting commander of the scout ship online,” Meta said.

  “Good,” Maddox said.

  Even as the captain spoke, Ludendorff and Andros hurried off the bridge.

  -40-

  Professor Ludendorff hurried down the narrow corridors of the Kit Carson, with tubby Andros Crank trotting behind him to keep up. The scout’s first mate led the way, a petite young woman with an intriguing sway to her shapely hips. She was pretty enough, but too worried to have responded yet to his blandishments.

  Ludendorff thought of himself as a lady’s man extraordinaire. If he turned on the charm, he would have her eating out of his hand in no time. It must be lonely on such a Patrol assignment. The signs suggested that she was free from any entanglements with any of her fellow crewmates. That was good, as Ludendorff didn’t have time to pry her from some young fool who didn’t realize what he had in her.

  A mature lover like him would give the first mate experiences to last a lifetime. It was true that he missed Dana Rich. But if there’d been a real connection between them, Dana would have felt that and come running back. Instead, she’d remained far away, not seeking to rekindle their unique love.

  Ludendorff shook his head ruefully. On occasion, he’d debated seeking Dana, but she’d left him. She’d sneered at their love. She’d—

  “Forget her,” Ludendorff muttered. He concentrated on the first mate’s walk, a smile sliding into place on his face. She was petite, pretty and would be putty in his expert hands. He still missed his two lovers from Omicron 9, the two Spacer spies that had worked for him in his underground laboratory. They’d been trained agents, but even so, he’d found them an interesting diversion. What he wanted now, though, was an honest love such as the little first mate would no doubt give him. Surely, the Kit Carson and Victory would travel together for a time. What would be the best way to start the liaison then? Ah, he had an idea.