Maddox shrugged. “I think it’s obvious the Adoks aided Grutch. The Adoks are terrified of Galyan and will clearly go to any lengths to avoid his proximity. Frankly, it’s a strategic mistake to try to push Galyan onto them. The Adoks know too much, and are privy to technology we lack. Better to gain their full alliance than pushing Galyan onto them.”

  “How does Galyan feel all about this?”

  Maddox shrugged again. “He doesn’t like it, but that’s a shipboard matter, don’t you think, Admiral?”

  “Of course, of course,” Cook said. “I don’t mean to pry into how you run your starship, provided you perform your tasks, which you normally do, except when you’re being highly disobedient. I believe I gave you a direct order to go to the Adok System and begin an investigation.”

  “You did, sir. But I’ve gained new information which I feel is vital to the coming war against Leviathan.”

  Cook frowned. “When did we determine there would be a war against Leviathan? I know they’ve sent spies and scout ships into the Commonwealth. But so far, we haven’t found any evidence of task forces or fleets heading for us.”

  “I understand, sir, but surely we need an alliance with the New Men when the possibility arrives—should it arrive.”

  “I haven’t looked that far ahead, but yes, what you say is obvious.”

  Maddox sat forward, his manner tightening. “Therefore, we need to resolve any possible problems that could cause friction between the New Men and us.”

  “Go on.”

  “Sir, the New Men, in particular, those around the Emperor, have engaged in an abduction campaign. I mean, they kidnap women from the Commonwealth for use in the Empire. We don’t know for how long this has been taking place, but—”

  “You know about that, do you?” Cook asked, interrupting.

  Maddox raised his eyebrows. “You do as well, sir?”

  “Confound it, man. I run Star Watch. Of course I know. Your grandmother has also found evidence of it, as well as Brigadier Stokes. We’re attempting to get to the root of it and stop it. But from what we can glean, the Emperor is keen on colonizing more and more planets.”

  “I’m aware of that as well,” Maddox said. “To colonize more, he needs more people. They’re on a crash population push, kidnapping citizens of the Commonwealth to help them.”

  “I know all that,” Cook said. “I don’t like it, but—”

  “I’m glad you don’t, sir, as I’m going to put a stop to it.”

  “You’re going to put a stop to it? From what I know, it’s a massive operation.”

  “Sir, I’ve learned that an important transshipment is going to occur in the Cestus System under the personal guidance of Archduke Artaxerxes Par.”

  “An archduke, eh,” Cook said. “Is he important in the Empire?”

  Maddox stared at Cook.

  The old man fidgeted with a stylus on his desk. “Yes, yes,” Cook finally said. “Artaxerxes Par runs their Intelligence Service. He’s important. How did you learn all this?”

  For a third time, Maddox shrugged.

  Cook turned the stylus over several times. “I suppose you plan on kidnapping him.”

  “No.”

  “What then?”

  “I’m going to stop the transportation of kidnapped victims. I also plan to show the New Men the folly of attempting such a thing again.”

  “Pray tell, how will you do all that?” Cook asked.

  Maddox’s eyes shined. Perhaps the beginnings of a hard smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to kill Artaxerxes Par.”

  Cook stared at Maddox aghast. “Killing him will start a war.”

  Maddox shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

  “You must be mad. The archduke will have a flotilla of star cruisers with him, perhaps a fleet. Destroy those and—”

  “I have no intention of destroying any star cruisers, sir, just Artaxerxes Par.”

  “You think he’ll walk up to you and let you kill him?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Madness, Captain. How do you propose to achieve such a miracle?”

  “That’s why I’m here, sir. I need your help.”

  Cook drummed his fingers on the desk. “I don’t understand how killing the archduke improves relations between our governments.”

  “The abduction campaign is a thorn in our collective relationship. We cannot accept Empire agents kidnapping our women willy-nilly. They must be taught that kidnapping them brings death.”

  “An admirable idea, certainly,” Cook conceded. “One thing troubles me, though. How does killing Artaxerxes bring the Empire closer to an alliance with us against Leviathan?”

  “Artaxerxes’ death will remove the source of friction between us.”

  “I don’t think so. Killing Artaxerxes will anger the Emperor. It could poison relations between us for years, especially if you do the killing. We all know the Emperor hates you personally.”

  Maddox unconsciously massaged his right forearm, the one the Emperor had once lopped off during a duel deep in the Library Planet. “I’m aware of that.”

  “Given my understanding of New Men mores, killing Artaxerxes Par will create a need for vengeance from those of the extended Par family.”

  Maddox made a subtle gesture. “Under normal conditions that might be so, but it won’t because of the manner in which I achieve his death.”

  “How is that?” Cook asked.

  “I request that you leave that to me, sir.”

  “I see. You just want me to give you carte blanche to do as you please?”

  “In this instance, that is exactly what I’m asking. But I need ten of the most powerful battleships with me.”

  “Ah,” Cook said. “That’s all. Ten battleships to take wherever you wish, I suppose.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You need ten battleships to kill one New Man?”

  “No. I need the leverage the ten battleships will give me. The rest of the New Men will survive and likely feel gratitude for it.”

  “Will they now?” Cook stopped short, and his features fell as he stared at the stylus in his hands. He tossed the stylus onto the desk and regarded Maddox. “I suppose you just might be that brilliant. Tell me, who told you about the abduction campaign?”

  Maddox shook his head. “It would be better if I didn’t say.”

  “What are you suggesting? You think my office is bugged?”

  “I give that a high probability.”

  Cook glared at Maddox, and he made a fist, pounding the desk three times. “Damn it, Captain.”

  “No, sir. I think this is one of these times where it would be good for you to listen to me. I’ve pulled many a chestnut out of the fire for the Commonwealth. I’ve asked little in return. I have this writ. I go on various adventures. And I do, mostly, what I’m told.”

  Cook snorted.

  “This time, I think you should use my unique abilities. They are unique. We both know it. Likely, I should be running a sector and have an entire battle fleet at my disposal. But I don’t. This, frankly, is the way I prefer it. I believe I do better as a lone wolf.”

  “Then why ask for ten battleships, Mr. Lone Wolf?”

  “Because I need them to help me do what I must,” Maddox said.

  “You’re asking me to just trust you in this?”

  “I am, sir. Have I not shown sufficient evidence of what such trust will gain?”

  Cook stared at Maddox, finally scowling. “What if you’re an android imposter—?”

  “The detectors would have already sounded,” Maddox said, interrupting.

  “What if you’re a clone, then?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  Cook studied him. “I suppose only the real Maddox would try and brazen this out. Tell me, what is this really about? I want the plain and simple truth, nothing else.”

  Maddox hesitated all of two seconds. “It’s about family, sir. You know something about family because I went to bizarre dimensions for you in order to bring one of your family members home.”

  Cook grunted as he stood, pointing a huge finger at Maddox. “How dare you hurl that at me?” Cook turned and lumbered to the window, clasping his thick hands behind his back. He stared out the window. When he turned, he said, “You’re still here, are you?”

  “Do I get the ten battleships, sir?”

  Cook lowered his head, breathed heavily for a time and nodded. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I have a feeling those of Leviathan are going to be deadlier than the Swarm were.”

  “That is my own opinion, sir.”

  “We need to be united as much as we can.”

  “Agreed,” Maddox said.

  “I pray whatever you do, will not cause a permanent rift between the Empire and Commonwealth at this inauspicious moment.”

  “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this.”

  “Why does it feel like I already do?”

  Maddox stood, saluted and left the Lord High Admiral’s office. It was time to talk to the head of Star Watch Intelligence.

  -15-

  Maddox strode down familiar corridors, heading to Brigadier Stokes’ office. Soon, he passed through Intelligence security checkpoints, took a few more turns and walked through a door to stand before a buxom, redheaded beauty, much different from Stokes’ former secretaries. She sat at the desk filing her bright-red fingernails.

  “I’m here to see the Brigadier.”

  The secretary squinted at Maddox. “And you are?”

  “Captain Maddox.”

  “Oh,” she said, leaning forward, revealing more of her cleavage and pressing an intercom button. “Sir, there’s a Captain Maddox to see you.”

  “Who?” asked a gruff-voiced man.

  “Captain Maddox.”

  “Of Starship Victory?”

  She looked up at Maddox.

  He nodded.

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “Send him in. I wonder what he wants with me.”

  She looked up again, smiling at Maddox.

  Perplexed, Maddox turned and stepped to the door, opening it and entering. The office space was the same. Now it contained a gargantuan desk with at least seven computer screens on it. Seated behind the desk was a large, overweight, bald-headed general with thick lips.

  “You’re not Stokes,” Maddox said.

  “No. I’m General Mackinder. Do you want Stokes or the Chief of Intelligence?”

  “You’ve replaced Stokes?”

  “You have eyes. Can’t you see? Yes, I’m the Chief of Intelligence. Now state your business. I’m a busy man.”

  Maddox was bemused. This was an odd and unwanted development. Why hadn’t the Lord High Admiral told him Stokes no longer ran the Intelligence Service?

  “You replaced Stokes?”

  “Look here, Maddox. I’ve heard of you, of course. You’re supposed to be famous, traveling here and there, doing all sorts of bizarre things. But as you can see, I’m busy. I’ll give you,” huge Mackinder glanced at his chronometer, “ten more seconds to state what you want. Then you must leave. Otherwise, I’ll call the Deck Marines to escort you out.”

  “No need,” Maddox said, sensing he wouldn’t get anywhere with Mackinder. “Where is Stokes, if he’s still in the building?”

  “He is. I’m not sure I should—oh, what the hell?” With a shrug, Mackinder provided directions. Stokes’ office seemed quite a ways from here.

  “Thanks,” Maddox said.

  The general grunted and turned back to one of the desk screens.

  As Maddox closed the door, he noticed the redhead eyeing him speculatively. She was dressed much too provocatively for the secretary of the head of Star Watch Intelligence. What did it mean? Something, Maddox was sure.

  He nodded to her, touching the brim of his hat, and continued out of the office and down a corridor. He followed the general’s instructions. The Deck Marines were smaller and the corridors narrower in this part of the building. He entered an office with an older woman behind a desk.

  “I’m here to see Brigadier Stokes.”

  “Of course, Captain Maddox,” she replied, pressing the intercom button. “Brigadier, the Captain is here to see you.”

  There was a mumbled reply, she looked up and nodded, and Maddox stepped to and opened the next door.

  The place was much smaller than Stokes’ previous office, and dimly lit. Stokes, still a mid-sized man but now in his late fifties, had pockmarked features. That was new. He had thinner, lank hair than Maddox remembered. The air smelled of stimstick smoke, usual for the man. A smoldering stimstick lay in an overflowing ashtray.

  “Come in,” Stokes said, his demeanor quieter than that of the massive Intelligence chief and certainly milder than the Lord High Admiral’s.

  Uncertain about the current state of affairs, Maddox closed the door behind him, sat in a chair before the desk and placed his hat on his lap.

  “It’s been a while since you’ve visited me, hasn’t it, Captain?”

  Maddox nodded.

  “Did you see the general?”

  “You mean the new head of Intelligence?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.” Stokes picked up the stimstick in the ashtray, sucked deeply and exhaled fumes through his nostrils. He coughed afterward, the cough of a sick man.

  “Are you ill?”

  Stokes nodded as he mashed out the stimstick in the ashtray. “I was in the hospital.” He indicated his face. “I have scars from the latest bout of rhomboid fever. It isn’t contagious, so you needn’t worry about that. But I’m not the man I used to be. I admit it, and I hate it. Age has crept up on me faster than I supposed it would.” He coughed again, turned to the side, and really hacked for a time. He poured a glass of water, drank deeply, and gasped, sitting back in his chair as if he’d almost choked to death.

  “Perhaps you should take a leave of absence,” Maddox suggested.

  Stokes shook his head. “I’ve done that. Been there. I lost my position.” He reached for the stimstick in the ashtray and realized he’d already mashed it out. Hesitating, he opened a drawer and pulled out a new one. He didn’t light it immediately, letting it dangle from his lips instead. “I’m down to one pack a day, but it is frightfully difficult to do. I never should have started these things when I was a youth.”

  After a moment of reflection, Stokes withdrew the stimstick, examined it as if unfamiliar and then placed it back between his lips, inhaling deeply. The end ignited, and he began coughing horribly. Setting the stimstick in the ashtray, he took several sips of water. “I’m sick. I shouldn’t be here, but confound it, Captain. I hate seeing what’s happening. Your grandmother, have you spoken to her lately?”

  Maddox shook his head.

  “Didn’t think so. She’s been demoted as well. She doesn’t have the run of the operations she once did.”

  “What happened?”

  “You’ve been gone, what, five years?” Stokes asked.

  “Not nearly that long.”

  “I keep forgetting. You went to a different dimension. I read the report. Then you were gone a long time. I didn’t hear anything of that. Suddenly, you popped up again, and things started to roll. What was it regarding? The Sovereign Hierarchy of Leviathan, right?”

  “Are you in counterintelligence?” Maddox asked.

  Stokes laughed. “I do bureaucratic work. I check reports and read copies. Running agents in the field?” Stokes shook his head. “That’s long been taken out of my hands. Long been taken out of your grandmother’s hands, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Stokes looked at the ceiling, inhaling laboriously several times, and folded his fingers across his thin chest. He reached for the glass of water but didn’t drink it. “I’ll tell you why. I’ve learned something completely at odds with how you must view reality.”

  Maddox was perplexed. He had intended to ask about the Empire abduction campaign. Would Stokes even know about it? Despite their previous run-ins, a sense of camaraderie touched Maddox. Perhaps it was pity for the prematurely old man.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, Brigadier.”

  “Honorary Brigadier these days,” Stokes said, pulling out a tablet and glancing at it. “Oh, commodore, you’ve gained rank.”

  Maddox shook his head. “Temporary rank for a temporary mission. I’m here to ask for your help.”

  “Ask away. It’s doubtful I can give you what you want, though.”

  “Do you know anything about the abduction campaign the New Men are running in the Commonwealth?”

  Stokes appeared pensive, as if thinking. “I’ve heard a rumor here and there. I’ve even tried to check into a thing or two, but no, that section is closed to me. I know very little other than we’re doing almost nothing to stop it. I’ve debated it with your grandmother, my old superior, and told her maybe this is for the best.”

  “It’s for the best the New Men kidnap our women?”

  Slowly, Stokes reached for the smoldering stimstick, picked it up, inserted it between his pale lips and drew heavily three times. He inflated with seeming strength and exhaled a billow of smoke like some small, ferocious dragon. This time, he didn’t cough. He straightened as if having gained vitality.

  “Captain, you’ve approached this the wrong way. I mean your term at Star Watch. I’m afraid I’m guilty of that as well. General Mackinder understands reality better than we do. He’s a coordinator, a facilitator, a mover of mass and mass production.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “How does an empire grow? How does a thing such as the Commonwealth expand? Do you have any idea of the number of agents spread throughout our territory? How many agents, totaling in the thousands or even tens of thousands, do we have? A planet, if it’s politically divided against itself, will have thousands of intelligence operatives. But we’re hundreds of planets and growing, and we face a multiplicity of enemies. What takes place then, hmm? Mass, I tell you, it is mass.”

  Maddox was quietly studying Stokes. Was the man drunk or high?

  “You, sir,” Stokes pointed at Maddox, “are a man who believes the individual can change events. And in some magical manner, you seem to have the knack of going straight to the one piece of leverage where one man can change things. But that’s not how it normally works. Normally, it’s mass. It’s vast armies. It’s vast intelligence assets moving here, moving there, shifting this lever, shifting that lever by degrees only.