“Come on,” Becker would tell that wee small part of him that Bible thumpers would call a conscience. Becker didn’t like hearing his conscience speak.

  At least choose one of them and stick with her, okay? his conscience said.

  “No,” Becker would say, “this is my fantasy. I’m doing it the way I want to. Don’t try to tell me what to do, conscience. You’re a pain in the ass. What good are you anyway?”

  That would seem to do it. His conscience would simper and crawl away to hide.

  The trouble was that Becker couldn’t run with his lovelies. He couldn’t scamper with them in their games. He had to be careful how he held his head. He couldn’t indulge in the activities he had always envisioned in his teenage fantasies and other times.

  He wanted to be athletic and change himself into the Herculean man. That would take a lot of effort, though. The darter was hidden in this crevice on the asteroid. Worse, freaking Star Watch ships flittered back and forth. How long until they found the darter?

  Becker ordered the girls to keep the darter cloaked at all times. That could last for several weeks. The extensive transformation he envisioned might take longer than that. What if he was halfway through the transformation and Maddox boarded the darter and took his women? What if Maddox put him under real stasis? What if Star Watch surgeons did surgery to his brain so he lost some of his mental powers? Maybe they would geld his pituitary gland next time.

  Why was everyone so jealous of him all the time? He just wanted to have a little fun. He just wanted to do things his way. Was that against the laws of nature and God?

  Come on, there was no God. Becker knew that. He was certain of that…except he would wake up sometimes in the middle of the night. Then his nasty little conscience would whisper in his mind: You wait, Becker. You’re going to find out the hard way. Why not turn this around while you can? You know: let the women be, and have them love you for who you are.

  “Shut up,” Becker would whisper. He didn’t want to wake up any of the girls by talking too loudly. “Shut the hell up and quit bugging me,” he would say to his conscience. “I just want to enjoy myself. Why won’t you let me? Get out of my head.”

  Then, finally, his conscience would be quiet again, and Becker would think about a few other things, and then he’d shove that aside and go back to sleep.

  One day, however, he hit his head hard. He tripped, fell, and struck his precious forebrain, specifically his frontal lobe, on the deck. It dashed him unconscious.

  When he came to, one of the girls looked at him strangely.

  “What?” Becker said. “What’s wrong?”

  She looked away.

  Becker wanted to test her mind, but his forebrain hurt too much. Had something within her changed at that moment? That was when Becker knew.

  I need to take the plunge. This is the moment. I’ve been having fun. All those creeps are out there—

  He realized with a start why his conscience must have been whispering to him. Why hadn’t he understood right away? The Spacers and Star Watch guys were jockeying for position out there. And here he was, gallivanting in the land of Arabian nights where he was the hero. Everything worked perfectly with it, and Becker loved that. But it was a mirage and he needed to act decisively for once.

  After a day of healing for his forebrain, Becker checked the girl’s mind. A locked control had slipped. He reset and sealed it mentally. Afterward, he ate like a freaking hog. He gulped, slurped and smacked his lips. He ate until he almost puked.

  Then he told the girls, “I have to be alone for a while. I’m going to lock the hatch. Don’t do anything about that. Maintain your positions, and I will come to you. I want you girls be ready for what’s coming, because I’m going to be a little different next time you see me.”

  “How?” asked Honey.

  “Bigger, stronger and sexier,” Becker said.

  The girls giggled with delight.

  Oh man, that was what Becker wanted to hear.

  He went into his wardroom and locked the hatch. He lay on the bed and started to rove inwardly with his improved mentality, with the power of his pituitary gland. He set out on the most gargantuan feat any telepath, any mental giant, had ever attempted. His head was the biggest. His brain was the densest. The Liss had created something more than they must have realized. That was why the Prime Saa had castrated him, to control and corral him.

  No one controlled now. Testosterone filled him and he began the strange metamorphosis of Captain Becker.

  He elongated bones, hardened them, and strengthened muscles. He’d awaken from time to time and gorged himself like the proverbial hog. Then he fell back asleep as his brain continued the transformation.

  He did not look at himself during the process. He did not want to see the ungainliness and the disproportion of his various limbs. Instead, he had an image in his mind of what he wanted to look like. The musculature and the stature of his chin down would match the massiveness, denseness and hugeness of his head. Did that mean he’d be eight or nine feet tall? Probably it did mean that. He would need such musculature and bone density and size to balance his head the way the girls balanced their heads as they raced and converted to his delight.

  Thus, as Spacers and Star Watch people maneuvered in the debris-filled, gaseous, cluttered, and rubble-strewn Paran System, Becker lay in the darter, metamorphosing into something greater than anyone would ever have believed concerning the man.

  -39-

  Five days after entering the debris-filled Paran System, Admiral Jellicoe, along with General Mackinder, came aboard Victory. They arrived in five heavy shuttles accompanied by the toughest, strongest Marines and Intelligence operatives from the task force. They summoned Maddox to a meeting.

  Maddox knew why they had come. A day ago, Jellicoe had told Maddox to report aboard the flagship. Maddox had flatly refused.

  “I’m not going to do it, sir,” Maddox said. “I frankly don’t trust your people. You’ve shown hostility toward me, and I prefer to remain among my people.”

  “Captain Maddox—” Jellicoe said.

  Maddox raised a hand as they spoke via the main screen on the bridge.

  “Sir, this isn’t a matter of disrespect. It’s a matter of instincts. Mine—I have an intuitive sense you may have heard about. It’s telling me your men will intern me the moment I step on one of your ships. Therefore, I respectfully decline to do so.”

  Thus, Jellicoe and Mackinder had come to Victory.

  Maddox entered the conference chamber alone. Jellicoe sat at the head of the table where Maddox always sat. Maddox shrugged. There were no task-force Marines inside the chamber. They had all been outside, lining the corridors. Jellicoe and Mackinder each wore a sidearm. Maddox wasn’t worried, as he knew Galyan watched everything in ghost mode. The Adok AI would enter and zap Jellicoe and Mackinder before either could fire at him.

  “Sit, Captain Maddox,” Jellicoe said, indicating a spot at the table.

  Maddox did so.

  “We’re here because you refused to board my flagship,” Jellicoe said. “You see, sir, I am more amiable than you think. You’ve acted disrespectfully and—”

  Maddox interrupted. “You called me a half-breed and a New Man before. With the philosophies you hold, those are deep barbs. That is immense disrespect toward me.”

  Jellicoe and Mackinder traded glances before Jellicoe nodded to Maddox. “You’ve made your point. I will refrain from using those terms in your presence. In return, I expect you to treat me with respect and to obey my orders.”

  “Very well, sir,” Maddox said.

  “We are agreed then?” Jellicoe said, sounding surprised.

  “Certainly,” Maddox said.

  Jellicoe stood. A second later, Mackinder did likewise.

  “We will continue the meeting aboard my flagship,” Jellicoe said.

  “Uh,” Maddox said. He hadn’t risen from his chair, “I wouldn’t go that far. I’ll gladly give you the respect you’re due, sir, but I’m not going to foolishly put myself into your custody. Therefore, I will keep my independent command and remain aboard Victory. I will, however, gladly obey your legal orders as I’ve already done so.”

  Mackinder sat down before Jellicoe did. Jellicoe scowled at Mackinder. Mackinder just shrugged. Finally, Jellicoe sat down.

  “You’re a stubborn man, Captain,” Jellicoe said.

  Maddox didn’t reply to that.

  “We believe we’ve uncovered the central location of the Spacer ships in this star system,” Jellicoe said, changing tack. “We have counted thirty-five Spacer saucer ships to date. We can likely defeat that with the force at hand.”

  “I agree,” Maddox said, “if that’s all the ships the Spacers have here.”

  “You think the Spacers have more than thirty-five saucer ships?” Jellicoe asked.

  “Most certainly, sir. I’m quite sure the Spacers have been scouting us using cloaked vessels. They probably feel thirty-five is the right number to enticing you into an assault against them.”

  “You’re quite suspicious,” Mackinder observed.

  Maddox said nothing, recognizing the sarcasm in the comment.

  “Well,” Jellicoe said, “such is my own belief. That is why, naturally, I’ve been speaking with the Lord High Admiral through my Long-Range Builder Comm Device. The admiral has been using the Builder Scanner on Pluto. We’ve studied the Spacer positions in detail here, although that isn’t the main point. We will be transferring more ships here in order to catch all of them.”

  “Oh,” Maddox said, “I approve. Not that you need my approval.”

  “No,” Jellicoe said, “not that we need your approval in the slightest, but you agree with the plan?”

  “I do,” Maddox said.

  “Good,” Jellicoe said, “because you will lead the charge.”

  “Lead the charge?” Maddox asked. “You want Victory to explode under Spacer beams?”

  Mackinder cleared his throat. “Sir?” he said to Jellicoe, barely giving the man a glance.

  “Please speak, General,” the admiral said. “I applaud your desire to enter the conversation.”

  Mackinder grimaced.

  Maddox had the feeling Mackinder thought Jellicoe wasn’t as sharp as he should be for an admiral, and the general could be right.

  “Captain,” Mackinder said, “why are the Spacers here if they know, as surely they must, about the Builder Nexus in Earth orbit and our ability to pour more ships into the Paran System?”

  “That’s an excellent question,” Maddox said. “I don’t know the answer. I’d suspect they would have attacked us by now or have fled. Perhaps they want us to bring the rest of the fleet here.”

  “For what reason?” asked Mackinder.

  “To attack it or to hold it here while they make an attack elsewhere,” Maddox said.

  “Do you believe they have the ships to successfully attack our task force?” Mackinder asked.

  “I don’t know,” Maddox said. “We know they had a Leviathan accomplice, probably how they acquired the phase ship. Therefore, I think this could be a trap with an enemy fleet attacking from Leviathan.”

  “I see,” Mackinder said. “So you do not agree with using the Earth Nexus to bring the fleet here?”

  “If everything else remains equal, I certainly do.”

  Mackinder compressed his lips. “What would you do if you were in our position?”

  Maddox drummed his fingers on the table. He had a few sharp comments he’d like to make, but he refrained from doing so. Was Mackinder truly asking for his advice? It seemed possible. Maddox cocked his head. What would he do?

  “I would attack with what I already have here,” Maddox said, “and gauge the Spacer response. We have two ships with a long-range communications back to Earth. If needed, we could ask for immediate reinforcements, or we could retreat. If we’re going to attack, we should have attacked already.”

  “You would let the Spacer ships leave the Paran System then?” Mackinder asked.

  “I don’t know,” Maddox said. “It is a quandary. I don’t know why we’ve waited this long to attack. I suppose you gentlemen wanted to be certain about everything.”

  “Never mind about that,” Jellicoe said.

  Mackinder raised a hand, perhaps to silence Jellicoe. “I’m interested in what Maddox has to say regarding this. What would you do, Captain?”

  Once more, Maddox drummed his fingers on the conference table. “It depends if Leviathan is ready to invade or not. We haven’t seen any evidence of Leviathan formations at nearby jumping off points. We do know the Spacers have a secret egress to the Barnard’s Star System near Earth. Could there be others like that? It seems possible, but I don’t know. As far as I know, and I’m sure you’re using the Long-Range Builder Scanner on Pluto, nobody is about to make a quick strike against the Commonwealth.”

  “Please, continue,” Mackinder said.

  “There are a few too many unknowns out here,” Maddox said. “We haven’t found a Builder device to form a hyper-spatial tube back to the Barnard’s Star System near Earth. That means the one-way nexus must be well hidden.”

  “I agreed with that,” Mackinder said.

  “That means we’ll continue searching for it,” Maddox said. “We also won’t attack because you think the Spacers are attempting to lure us into doing exactly that.”

  Mackinder studied Maddox. “Perhaps, Captain, it is time to send you toward the Spacers for you to talk with them and find out what you can.”

  Maddox chewed on an inside cheek. That actually seemed reasonable. He did have a knack for drawing information out of people.

  “I can do that,” Maddox said.

  “In two days, then,” Mackinder said, “you will hold a parley with the Spacers.”

  Maddox noted that Mackinder hadn’t asked Jellicoe if that was the plan. Here was proof that Mackinder wasn’t along as an advisor, but as the chief. Once again, Maddox wondered if Mackinder had installed Admiral Haig into the new position, and if Mackinder was the real power behind the throne, as the saying went.

  “Two days, Captain,” Mackinder said. “Do you believe we can find the Builder one-way nexus by then?”

  “There’s a lot of debris and planetary chunks to search.” Maddox shrugged. “We can get started. Finding it may take longer than two days.”

  “Yes,” Mackinder said. “This is a delicate situation. It would be good to know if we can make it back to the Barnard’s Star or not on our own. Still, it is strange to me that the Spacers haven’t attacked us.”

  “Agreed,” Maddox said, “except they surely know about our nexus at Earth. They’re being cautious, which is natural as Spacers are cautious by nature.”

  “Hmm,” Mackinder said. “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning that a fast hard strike could have been the correct maneuver,” Maddox said. “But we failed to do it. Therefore, and I am only thinking aloud, sir, I think this cautious approach on our part might be right. We’re like two fencers, not quite ready to square off for the duel.”

  “Quaint,” Mackinder said. “You have duels on the mind, do you?”

  “I suppose I do,” Maddox said.

  Mackinder stood, and Jellicoe hurried to his feet. He did not scowl or rebuke Mackinder, either, for doing that.

  Yes, Maddox thought to himself, Mackinder is the leader of the expedition. It’s strange that the Intelligence Chief should be reaching for such power so soon, though.

  “Thank you for coming aboard, gentlemen,” Maddox said, standing. “This has been most informative.”

  “It has been our pleasure,” Jellicoe said. He then hastened to lead the way out of the conference chamber.

  As the two men left, Maddox wondered what the Spacers were attempting to achieve here. There was something odd about all of this. Perhaps as interesting, what had happened to Becker? Had Becker been wise enough to stay out of the Spacers’ clutches? If the Spacers had captured Becker, it would be terrible for him to fall into their hands. Not for his sake, but for the security of what he knew about the Commonwealth. The Spacers would do whatever they needed to pry that information out of him.

  Maddox scowled. He was on a mission to free the three crewmembers Becker had kidnapped. The kidnapping didn’t sit well with Maddox in the least. The three women were his responsibility, his people.

  “Let’s get started,” Maddox said.

  Galyan appeared as he came out of ghost mode. “That was interesting, sir.”

  “Give me your observations and analysis,” Maddox said, sitting back down.

  Galyan obliged the captain and began to speak.

  -40-

  Dax awoke and, to his astonishment, found himself sitting in a chair with his hands on his knees. Did this mean Mu had reattached his head to his body?

  Dax raised his hands, nearly laughing aloud with giddiness. Likely, a cyber-organ secreted calming agents. As a result, the laugh died before it reached his throat. He touched his mouth, which opened, and his tongue stuck out.

  Everything worked as it should.

  Experimentally, Dax rose and walked around the chair. He discovered that he wore the original uniform when he’d first approached the Spacers in the Python.

  Dax stopped abruptly as fear stabbed at him.

  Mu and Venna, the latter in her hideous form, were in the chamber with him. They watched from behind a table laden with tech items.

  “Hello,” Dax said in greeting.

  “Are you surprised to see us?” Mu asked.

  “I am.” Dax assessed the situation and bowed at the waist. Diplomacy seemed wisest. “I’m grateful for my reattachment. As I promised, I will now do anything you ask.”

  “We already know that,” Mu said with a smirk.

  Dax suppressed a frown. He disliked her offhand manner. Might he have said too much, which caused her contempt? She was his…

  “Continue,” Mu said. “Tell us the rest.”