Vaughn Heppner - The Lost Starship

The masses of cargo-haulers lifting from Earth brought hairy traffic control problems. On the way up, Maddox answered four different calls asking for identification and clearance. His still held, but for how much longer? Once, a traffic control officer yelled at him, telling him he was in the wrong zone. He apologized and did his best to reroute. A rocket roared several kilometers away, the laser-ignited flames leaving a smoking trail.

The sheer volume of space traffic shielded them from greater scrutiny. Besides, the flitter was tiny compared to the vessels around it, a mouse skittering across a pasture full of cattle.

“Someone will notice if we drift,” Noonan said.

“Given time,” Maddox answered.

“Does this machine have vacuum maneuverability?” Keith asked.

“How could it?” Noonan asked. “It isn’t big enough.”

“What are you planning, mate?” Keith asked.

“I call it velocity,” Maddox said. The flitter sped for orbital space, using the antigravity pods at full strength and its fuel at a prodigious rate.

Later, they drifted as the flitter left the Earth behind. The blue-green planet had stretched from horizon to horizon a half hour ago. With the naked eye, they’d seen several shuttles docking with a massive battleship, no doubt unloading supplies. Now, the planet was three times the size of the moon as seen from Earth on a clear evening.

The antigravity pods had reversed, giving them weight. Air kept recycling as it hissed through the conditioner vents.

“When this is over,” Keith said, “I would like to purchase one of these flitters. I imagine the Commonwealth Council will want to heavily reward us for what we’ve done.”

“This craft is a beaut,” Maddox agreed, “one of the service’s specialty craft.”

Lieutenant Noonan shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re doing it like this. This is a crazy stunt.”

“To tell you the truth,” Keith said in wistful tone, “this reminds me of Tau Ceti. Our strikefighters had a bit more elbow room. There was a little cubicle in back for calls of nature. We did a lot of patrolling in those machines.” He put a hand before a vent. “I’ve been in a stalled strikefighter a time or two. You had to wait for the repair ship to come and pick you up. It could get awful lonely. Made a bloke think, it did.”

“What are you thinking now?” Noonan asked.

“Eh?” Keith said.

“Never mind,” she said.

“That could be our ride over there,” Maddox said. A red light appeared on his panel. It was the third one to come this close. The other blips had been a mail rocket and a satellite making its orbit. For the last ten minutes, Maddox began to wonder if Keith was right about the New Men homing in on their beacon.”

As if reading his mind, Noonan said, “I don’t know why your brigadier didn’t make this easier for us.”

“The brigadier is terrified of leaks,” Maddox said. Really, O’Hara is terrified of the New Men’s ability. “Otherwise, she would never have made me get the two of you like this. Yes, our exit from Earth is outrageous. It may be all that’s keeping us a step ahead of the enemy. My guess is they’ll start to expect the unusual from us. They’ll adjust.”

“Once we leave the Solar System, how will they find us again?” Noonan asked.

“There,” Maddox said, ignoring her question. “I think that’s our ship.”

Lieutenant Noonan looked where he pointed while Keith poked up his head, peering between the two of them. A point of light the size of a star appeared in the darkness. After a time, the star grew until finally the scout’s main engine nozzle became distinct.

The scout looked like a late twentieth-century shuttlecraft, only five times larger. It had a fusion reactor, a Laumer Drive and space for twelve crewmembers.

“How are we going to exit the flitter and get aboard the scout?” Noonan asked. “I don’t see any vacc-suits in here.”

“We’re taking the flitter with us,” Maddox said.

The lieutenant gave him a dubious glance.

Keith must have noticed. He put a hand on her shoulder. “It will be a snap, love.”

She glared back at him.

“Sorry,” he said, removing his hand, “meant nothing by it. We’re going to be mates, so we might as well get along.”

“Mates?” she asked, bristling.

“He means friends,” Maddox said.

Lieutenant Noonan blinked several times until her brow smoothed out. “Oh. Mates . I’m sorry. It’s been… trying the last few years.”

Keith chuckled. “Not to worry, love. I won’t try to be familiar.”

She turned around, facing him. Then she stuck out her hand. “Mates it is. I’m Valerie.”

“Keith,” he said.

They shook hands.

“Glad to make your acquaintance, love,” Keith said.

Maddox was pleased that Lieutenant Noonan— Valerie —could bend a little. If his crew were at each other’s throats the entire journey, this would never work. Eventually, they had to come together, learning to be a team in name as well as in deed.

“We’ll use repulse power,” Maddox said. He checked the panel. “I still have a little in the batteries.” The flitter hummed as he tapped a control, and the craft began to slide toward the scout.

The bigger vessel had a rakish appearance. It had two gun emplacements, one under each of its stubby wings. The guns would fire a limited number of cannon shells. The scout lacked real armor. Nor did it possess a shield generator, making it nearly worthless in a space fight. The ship’s primary function was to explore, often going down into a planet’s atmosphere to land.

Patrol duty in the scout was dangerous, and in naval terms, provided cramped quarters. It was better than flying an unarmed yacht, though.

Maddox pressed a remote control, and a large bay door in the scout opened. Even so, squeezing the flitter through that opening would be a tight fit. Switching on headlights, he eased the craft through without scraping anything and brought the flitter to a gentle landing. Magnetic clamps took hold, and the bay door began to close.

“Nicely done,” Keith said.

Nodding, Maddox used a control unit. As soon as the bay door shut, large vents hissed an atmosphere into the holding chamber. Soon, the bubble canopy slid away. The scout air was cold with a metallic tang. Valerie shivered. But the air proved breathable.

“We made it,” Maddox said. “Now we have to scoot. I don’t know what kind of assets their people have. But I don’t doubt they have something that can defeat a scout.”

“Our enemy has military vessels they’d dare to use this close to Earth?” Valerie asked.

“Not marked as New Men ships,” Maddox said.

“What will they be marked as then?” she asked.

“My guess would be corporation ships. Maybe even Nerva Conglomerate vessels.”

“Why them?” she asked.

“Because that’s who hailing our scout,” Maddox said, staring at his call unit. “Come on. Let’s get to the control room. I have a feeling we’re going to have to see how fast this thing can really fly.”

The control room was small with three seats facing instrument panels. One was for the pilot, and one controlled weapons and navigation. The last panel controlled everything else.

“No,” Maddox said, as Valerie slid into the pilot’s seat. “That’s why we have him along.”

Without a word, she moved to the weapons/navigation position.

Keith Maker plopped onto the pilot’s seat. After buckling in, he examined his controls. “Just to let you know, I’ve never flown one of these before. Maybe Valerie should pilot us until I have a chance to familiarize myself with the ship in detail.”