“Could the nexus have been leaking power for two thousand years?” Galyan asked.

  “Why did the aliens hate the Builders?” Valerie asked.

  “None of that matters at the moment,” Maddox said. “Nexuses create hyper-spatial tubes. Can that nexus still create one? If so, how do we get it to make one that reaches Earth?”

  “We’ll have to investigate the nexus,” Valerie said. “But according to my readings, the radiation in there will kill any of us who goes.”

  “We’ll use probes and drones if we can,” Maddox said, “clean up the mess inside and try to figure things out. Meanwhile… we need Ludendorff more than ever. And one thing seems clear: no one has cleaned up the battlefield. That would indicate…what? Any ideas?”

  “A shrine perhaps to a notable feat,” Galyan said. “Or maybe it means the attacking aliens died out. There was no one to clean up.”

  “I don’t like the idea of a shrine,” Valerie said. “That could mean someone powerful would get mad at us for tampering with the shrine.”

  “Reasonable,” Maddox said. “As always, we’re under a time crunch, so we’re out of here before any angry aliens show up and so we can get home in time to help. Chief Technician, you’ll be in charge of the drone fleet. Valerie—”

  Maddox handed out assignments, and people went to work. Afterward, he searched for Doctor Harris to see if there was some way they could speed up the professor’s recovery.

  ***

  The probes and drones went inside the nexus. Eighteen percent failed after the first minute. Twenty-two percent stopped working after eleven minutes. Only seventeen percent of the equipment lasted more than an hour.

  By incremental degrees, Andros and his team mapped out the destruction inside. It wasn’t easy. Engineers hardened the next wave of probes and drones while recovery vehicles dragged out the burned-out equipment. Everyone worked overtime, and people kept trying new ideas to speed up the process.

  On the sixth day, heavily armored drones resealed damaged power sources deep inside the nexus. On the eighth day, the drones sprayed heavy ablation foam around the sealed power sources. On the tenth day, the drones placed and welded heavy shielding around the now hardened foam.

  The interior nexus no longer glowed or continued to leak heavy radiation.

  Now, finally, radiation scrubbers went to work inside. It took a week of around-the-clock scrubbing before Andros declared most of the nexus clean enough for humans in space-marine combat suits to enter.

  During that time, science teams had gone to the alien wrecks around the nexus. Rail-guns, fusion engines and heavy lasers, there was nothing new and exciting to report. None of the alien computers worked anymore. There were no images of them, no floating spacesuits, nothing. The aliens who had attacked the nexus remained an enigma. There was not one jot or tittle of new technology to help Star Watch in anything from the wrecks.

  “Mass,” Ludendorff said at the end of the time. “The aliens used mass to good effect—if damaging the nexus was their great reason for existence.”

  The professor had healed the old-fashioned way, through time and lots of sleep. He wasn’t as spry yet, and he tired far too easily, but the old Ludendorff had begun to stir again. He studied everything Andros’s people could bring him. Then he slept, ate sparingly and finally walked the corridors for exercise.

  “I’m not what I used to be,” Ludendorff told Maddox one day. “But I’m going to get there, my boy. Yes, I am.”

  “That’s well and good,” Maddox said. “But we’re running out of time.”

  Ludendorff shook his head. They were in a cafeteria. Maddox cut into prime rib, dipping each piece into straight horseradish.

  “Are you mad?” Ludendorff asked, as he sipped a scalding cup of coffee. He watched the captain pop a horseradish-smothered morsel into his mouth.

  Maddox shivered for just a moment as piercing fumes of horseradish shot up his nostrils. The process actually made his eyes water.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ludendorff demanded.

  “Nothing,” Maddox said, as he repeated the performance with another piece of prime rib.

  “Spice of life and all that?” asked Ludendorff.

  “You’re feeling better at least.”

  “We’re in a fine mess, my boy, and we’ve been at daggers drawn again. I’ve…I’ve had a few personal problems that had far too much airtime in my thoughts. Dana…” he said wistfully. “She was a delightful girl. But if she’s done enjoying the high life—” The professor shrugged. “What is that to me?”

  “Time to move on,” Maddox said.

  “Exactly, exactly,” Ludendorff said. “There’s nothing like a bout in the hospital bed to make you understand what’s important. There are plenty of fish in the sea, plenty of beautiful women to kiss and love. How many of them have known the embrace of Professor Ludendorff?”

  “A hundred, three hundred?” guessed Maddox.

  “Have your fun, my boy,” Ludendorff said. “You have a calm façade as you enjoy pretending you’re the great professional.”

  Maddox eyed the professor. He’d never known anyone to hold a grudge longer and with greater intensity than Ludendorff. But sometimes, the Methuselah Man liked to put people off the scent. If that helped the professor function better, then so be it. He could play along. But he had no intention of dropping his guard with the old man.

  “What did you say earlier?” Ludendorff asked. “We’re running out of time? You say that a lot, don’t you know? It seems to be your motto.”

  “Rull androids, a Supermetals Planet, Lisa Meyers and the synthetics, you happen to remember them? Oh, and the Jotuns, too?”

  “I’ve been thinking about all of them,” Ludendorff said. “More than you can imagine. We have a common enemy, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Androids, synthetics—they don’t appreciate Methuselah Men as much as they could.”

  “As I recall, Yen Cho androids have passed themselves off as Methuselah Men before.”

  “We’re not talking about Yen Cho androids, as they’re not in the equation this time. Batrun proved that we can’t trust the synthetics. In fact, I contend—whatever happened to Batrun, eh?”

  “I killed him,” Maddox said flatly.

  “Describe the incident to me.”

  “Why? You already know what happened.”

  “Let me see the remains then.”

  Maddox set down his knife and fork. Now, they were getting to the reason for Ludendorff’s reasonableness. It had to do with Batrun, or Batrun was the beginning lure that the Methuselah Man would use to reach his target. What was the professor’s target this time?

  “Batrun is dead, switched off, destroyed, call it what you want,” Maddox said. “His brain core is useless, as I shredded it with my monofilament blade.”

  Ludendorff was nodding and grinning. “I wonder why you did that, eh?”

  “To save us from Batrun and the cybers,” Maddox said. “Have you forgotten?”

  “Not at all,” Ludendorff said. “But I submit to you, sir, that fate has given us an opportunity to fix your error.”

  “What error?”

  “Why,” Ludendorff said, with surprise, “destroying Batrun’s cybertronic brain. Having it could unlock so much for us. We might finally get a straight answer as to what is really going on around here.”

  “I’m not following you, Professor. I shredded the cybertronic brain beyond repair.”

  “Normally, that’s true. Here, at a nexus…I’m not so sure.”

  Maddox eyed the professor. “Okay. Start talking. What do you have in mind?”

  -64-

  What Ludendorff had in mind was first a thorough mapping of the interior nexus. This time, Galyan stored every piece of data in his memory banks for immediate and future use. Andros led more science teams studying each interior machine. Ludendorff often joined them, writing notes, tinkering and wondering aloud about the machine’s function.

  “We could spend years here,” Ludendorff declared one day, seemingly enraptured with an insider’s track of Builder technology.

  “While we’re poking around,” Maddox told him, “the Rull Juggernauts are likely gathering in the Alpha Centauri System. And who knows what the Jotuns are up to. Have you found the hyper-spatial engine yet? We have to get home pronto.”

  “Patience, my boy, patience,” Ludendorff answered.

  Maddox stood up. They were in a cafeteria once again, eating a quick lunch. He stood over the professor.

  “Really, my boy, you’re crowding me.”

  Maddox looked down. “I’m out of patience, Professor. I want to get home while we still have one.”

  Ludendorff glanced up at Maddox as he ate a piece of toast, and he shoved an elbow against the captain in order to sip his coffee.

  Maddox had to restrain himself from grabbing the professor and shaking him. They were all tired. Well, Ludendorff seemed to have drunk from a spring of rejuvenation. The Methuselah Man had almost become giddy in delight.

  Forcing himself, knowing he had to reign in his emotions, Maddox sat back at his spot.

  “Now look,” Ludendorff said, as he crammed the last of the toast into his mouth. He searched for a napkin, couldn’t find his, and wiped his hands on the front of his shirt. “I know you’re impatient, and I understand the urgency. The Rull androids…”

  Ludendorff picked up his cup and noticed he was out of coffee. He cocked his head, and said, “No thanks, my dear,” when a yeoman came by with a pot of coffee. “No more caffeine for me. I need my sleep later.” The Methuselah Man stared at her shapely rear as the yeoman walked away.

  “A fine specimen of womanhood, wouldn’t you agree?” Ludendorff asked.

  Maddox didn’t say a word.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Ludendorff said. “You’re a married man. You try to keep from having a wandering eye, eh?”

  Maddox realized a show of impatience wasn’t going to get him anywhere. If anything, the professor would drag his feet more, perhaps thinking he was finally getting some revenge against him. Thus, he waited stoically, showing nothing.

  “Ah-ah,” Ludendorff said. “You’re beginning to realize the true picture. You’re totally dependent on me. Don’t think Andros will figure out the interior nexus fast enough to find the hyper-spatial machine. Oh, he’s a clever fellow. Don’t doubt that. But he’s not a Methuselah Man.”

  Maddox continued to wait.

  “Galyan might figure it out if he can turn on the nexus computer core. Of course, the core is badly damaged. I doubt Galyan knows enough to repair a Builder computer.”

  “Do you?” asked Maddox.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Ludendorff said. “But if anyone can, it’s me. It’s always back to me. I’m the man of the hour. How that must grind you inside. You hate it, admit it.”

  “I do find it frustrating,” Maddox said.

  Ludendorff eyebrows rose high. “Well, well, well, listen to you. You’re frustrated.” The professor couldn’t help himself, but grinned hugely. Then, as another thought intruded, the grin vanished as he scowled.

  “I’m going to overlook all the slights and slurs you’ve heaped upon me,” Ludendorff said in a low voice. “I’m going to forget that you’ve manhandled me more than once.”

  The professor shook his head. “I’ve weighed my options, believe me. I’ve decided that the hour is becoming tighter. The Jotuns might indeed exist. Certainly, the androids appear to be moving in force. The shedding of their garments and outer pseudo-human skin…” Ludendorff shook his head. “That is profound, as it means something dreadful for the Commonwealth. That’s why I’ve decided that you and I have to work together again. Believe me, I’ve thought about ditching you more than once these past few days. Oh, I’ve envisioned—

  “Well, never mind,” Ludendorff said. “I keep coming back to Lisa Meyers. She troubles me, deeply troubles me. I have a suspicion…”

  Maddox perked up. “What do you know about Meyers?”

  “A memory is all,” Ludendorff said. “I’m going to keep it to myself for now.”

  Maddox pressed his lips together. Pleading would only firm Ludendorff’s resolve.

  “Do you know what I’ve decided?” the professor asked.

  Maddox shook his head.

  “Batrun is the answer.”

  “You hinted about that before,” Maddox said. “I still don’t understand. I’ve shown you the synthetic. His head—his brain core—is in ribbons.”

  “You likely committed the correct action in destroying him,” Ludendorff said. “I don’t dispute that—no! That part doesn’t matter. Captain, I’m feeling giddy because I’m going to attempt a thing that I’ve never attempted before. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. Do you realize how seldom that happens to me anymore?”

  “Is that why…”

  “Yes!” Ludendorff said. “That’s why I’m delighted. This is a first for me—a man whose most recent ‘first’ must have happened two hundred years ago.”

  “I see,” Maddox said. “This opportunity is because of the nexus.”

  “Because of the disrepair of the nexus,” Ludendorff said. “That I’ve gotten to poke around like never before. This place makes the entire voyage worth it. I have found an amazing laboratory, Captain. With it… Would you like to witness a miracle?”

  “Yes,” Maddox said, becoming intrigued. The professor wasn’t trying to hide this. Maybe he should encourage him in that. “What are we going to do?”

  “You’ll have to give me Batrun’s remains.”

  “Done,” Maddox said.

  Once more, Ludendorff raised his eyebrows. He rubbed his hands a moment later. “Fine. Let us begin, in an hour, say?”

  “We’ll have to transfer over to the nexus, I assume.”

  “Correct,” Ludendorff said. “Oh, my boy, I can hardly wait to begin.”

  -65-

  It took much longer than an hour. It took three days of hard labor by a battalion of workers. They slaved under Andros’s direction, who listened to Ludendorff every hour for new parameters. Finally, the professor had a sealed laboratory inside the nexus. It had bulkheads, power sources and many Builder machines stacked and arranged under Ludendorff’s direction. He had Builder tools, liquids, precision equipment and screens everywhere.

  Maddox, Ludendorff and Galyan were alone in the lab. None of them wore spacesuits or combat armor. The air was pure and it was pleasantly quiet in here.

  Batrun’s sliced head and brain case lay on a table in neat but separated arrangement.

  Ludendorff looked meaningfully at the captain. “Now, sir, I shall begin an operation of great delicacy. If only Dana were here…” The professor frowned, shaking his head. “She is not here. I must do this alone.”

  “Andros could help you,” Galyan suggested.

  Ludendorff let his chin drop against his chest as he considered that. Finally, he looked up with a smile. “That is an excellent idea, Galyan. Captain, is that all right with you?”

  Maddox nodded.

  “Galyan,” Ludendorff asked. “Could you—”

  “I’ll call him,” Maddox said, who pulled a hand comm out of his pocket.

  Seventy-four minutes later, Andros Crank, the Kai-Kaus Chief Technician, walked through the airlock.

  Ludendorff and Andros began to confer. Afterward, the Chief Technician went to console and activated it. Andros kept activating more screens. Ludendorff did likewise on the other side of the laboratory.

  Maddox grew bored by the proceedings but decided that if ever Ludendorff needed watching, this was the moment. The Methuselah Man was inside a Builder nexus, activating who knew what exactly.

  Now, Andros and Ludendorff went to the monofilament blade-sliced remains of Batrun’s head and brain case.

  “This is interesting,” Galyan told Maddox. “I believe they mean to revive the synthetic.”

  “Won’t his memories have fled with the brain core’s destruction?” Maddox whispered to the holoimage.

  “Under normal conditions, yes,” Galyan said. “This is far from normal, however.”

  Andros and Ludendorff bathed the sliced remains of Batrun’s head in a special solution. Each man wore thick rubberized gloves. The process became tedious and time-consuming as the two men took the remains from a solution, to a machine, to another solution and then went to what seemed to be a polisher—it took five hours and thirty-eight minutes before the pieces were ready. Ludendorff used a special machine with an octopus’s number of limbs.

  Maddox raised his head and rubbed his eyes, sliding off his stool to observe the process.

  The metallic limbs seemed to pluck the pieces from Batrun’s severed head and knit them into a new whole. It was an odd performance. Andros bathed the newly building head with a strange light, switching colors from time to time.

  “Where did Ludendorff learn to do this?” Maddox whispered to Galyan.

  “That is an excellent question, sir,” the holoimage said. “I do not have the answer.”

  At last, the synthetic’s head was completed, resting on a thick plug of sorts.

  Ludendorff glanced sharply at Andros. The stout Chief Technician typed on a pad. A hum of energy told of surging power. The synthetic’s head began to glow.

  Ludendorff hugged himself as he crooned with delight. He glanced back once at Maddox. Then the professor put dark goggles over his eyes and began to use precision tools on the glowing head. Maddox had no idea what Ludendorff was doing.

  Andros also wore dark goggles, seeming to watch with anticipation.

  “You should look away, sir,” Galyan suggested.

  Maddox did, and he witnessed a huge flash that threw their shadows upon the bulkheads. The flash came three more times, the last the brightest of all.

  Maddox had screwed his eyes shut by that time and clapped his hands over his eyes. He’d still witnessed the flash as if it had been a nuclear blast.

  He waited then, finally noticing the hum of power was gone.