Vaughn Heppner - The Lost Starship

“Not necessarily,” Keith said. “We used the gravity generator at the end. It doesn’t leave particles to trace.”

Valerie tapped her head with the flat of her hand. “That’s right. But I have a different theory. Instead of tracking, I wonder if they have a device that can tell if a Laumer-Point has just been opened or not.”

“Ah,” Maddox said. “That might explain their behavior. If that’s true, they’ll know we entered the star system, and that we haven’t left yet.”

“If the destroyer jumps elsewhere from the inner system tramline,” Valerie said, “that will trash the theory. But if they stay in this star system—they’ll soon be out here again hunting for us.”

Maddox scanned the others’ faces. “It’s time to bury the Geronimo .”

“The destroyer might spot us doing that,” Valerie said.

“They’re returning to the inner system,” Maddox said. “Now is the time to make a cave. Afterward, we seal up and make a run for it.”

“We’ll be crawling with the comet surrounding us,” Valerie said.

“I know,” the captain said. “But I’m convinced this is our last opportunity. If anyone has a different suggestion, now is the time to make it.”

Keith swallowed with a parched throat. He desperately wanted a drink. He wanted to make an excuse, leave and ransack the captain’s quarters. They owed him. Yet… he also wanted to stay sober. The abyss of drunkenness was real, and he wanted to stay far away from it.

Feeling worthless and dirty, the ensign raised a hand.

“Yes?” asked Maddox.

“Sir,” Keith whispered, knowing he had to confess. “I want a drink so badly I’m ready to do anything for it. I stopped taking the pills some time ago.”

The wardroom turned silent.

Maddox eyed him. Keith hated the look. He felt like dirt, knowing he’d let them down. Finally, the captain stood. “Come with me, Ensign.”

Feeling like a whipped cur, with his gaze downcast, Keith followed the captain. The man headed straight for his quarters. Shuffling his feet, Keith entered the Spartan room.

Maddox went to a drawer and pulled it open. He picked up a bottle of Scotch, pried out the cork and brought it to a small table. With a clunk, Maddox set the bottle onto the surface.

“Come here, Ensign, have a drink, if you wish.”

Keith swallowed and shuffled nearer. The desire for drink pulsated through him. Why was the captain doing this? Did Maddox wish to humiliate him even more? Did it matter why the man did what he did? Keith reached for the bottle, expecting Maddox to swat his hand away. The captain did no such thing. The man watched coldly.

Trembling with desire, raising the bottle to his lips, Keith could smell the beautiful whiskey. He expected a last warning. It never came.

With a cry of horror, Keith lifted the bottle above his head and hurled it down. The thing smashed against the deck. Glass flew everywhere and Scotch rained.

“No,” Keith said, hanging his head. “I can’t drink. I want to, sir. You have no idea how much. But I can’t let any of you down.”

When no words came, Keith looked up. Maddox still watched him, but it was no longer with cold indifference. The captain put a hand on Keith’s shoulder and patted it twice.

“I’m proud of you, Ensign. Now tell me. What should I do with the other bottles?”

“Pour them down the disposal unit, sir,” Keith said in a thick voice. “Please, get rid of them. I-I want to remain on your team.”

Maddox smiled with approval in his eyes. “Come,” he said. “Let’s finish our briefing. With a man like you in my crew, we’re either going to beat the New Men, or they’re going to know they’ve been in the fight of their lives.”

Keith squared his shoulders. “Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” he said, saluting crisply.

Captain Maddox watched from outside the scout as he stood on the comet. Ensign Maker maneuvered the Geronimo into the vast cavern he and Meta had carved out of the dirty ice-ball.

It had been two days since the meeting in the wardroom. Since then, the crew had fixed the professor’s engines to the outer comet and positioned the fuel for consumption. Only once the scout was embedded within and the entrance frozen over would they pilot the comet to the unstable Laumer-Point.

Despite their best efforts, the destroyer must have detected something suspicious. Before reaching the inner star system, the Saint Petersburg had braked hard. After the vessel came to a halt, it started accelerating for the outer, unstable Laumer-Point.

Valerie wondered why the destroyer hadn’t gone toward the inner system at full acceleration to circle the star and whip back out here.

“They’re doing it faster this way,” Maddox had told her.

“Yes, but the fuel consumption is enormous the way they did it.”

“The obvious conclusion is that speed is more important to them than fuel. Perhaps the star cruiser, when it shows up, gives the destroyer more fusion isotopes as needed.”

As he stood on the comet, Maddox recalled the conversation. If—

The comet shuddered beneath his vacc-boots. The captain staggered in slow motion. The gravity here was negligible. A moment later, Maddox’s earphones hissed.

“I’m down,” Keith said. “We’re going to begin icing the landing gear to the comet.

Maddox jumped, floating toward the torch. It was time to begin sealing the cavern and the Geronimo inside it.

Everything was hooked to the control room panels. Maddox took his spot and watched Keith and Valerie take theirs.

“Once we start,” Valerie said. “They’ll know exactly where we are.”

Maddox understood. This was the final lap to the alien star system. The comet had to beat the destroyer to the Laumer-Point. Nothing else mattered.

“Ready?” Maddox asked Keith.

The ace nodded.

“Engage thrusters,” Maddox said. “Engage every one of them. We’re blasting full throttle until we’ve made it, or we’re dead.”

Keith tapped his board.

Watching his screen, Maddox saw the engines glow orange. Each of them was frozen into the ice at the “back” of the comet. The orange color intensified. Then blue fusion exhaust burst out. The tails quickly grew. Soon, they stretched far behind the comet. The thrusters pushed the mass of ice, snow, rock and Geronimo core.

Soon, the stellar object broke out of its ancient orbit around the T dwarf. Very slowly, it began to head toward the unstable Laumer-Point. It didn’t have far to travel, a few hundred thousand kilometers. That was nothing compared to the destroyer’s three billion, four hundred thousand.

“We need more velocity,” Valerie said. “At this rate, the destroyer will catch us.”

Maddox couldn’t contain himself. He stood and shook his arms, willing the nervous tingling to stop. They were doing the impossible. After endless weeks upon weeks— “Keep pouring it out,” he told Keith.

“Don’t worry about me, sir. I’m gunning the engines. The comet’s mass is too much, though. It may be ice, but there’s so bloody much of it that we’re not going to accelerate fast enough. Ah, I have an idea. We edge the Geronimo closer to the exit so its thrusters stick out of the back. We add our thrust to the other engines.”

“Not a bad idea for gaining greater velocity,” Maddox said. “But if we do that, we’ll never survive the other side. The only way we’re going to exit the wormhole and live to finish our task is if the comet takes the brunt of the heat for us.”

“You really believe it’s going to be that way, sir?” Keith asked.

“Oh, yes.”

The acceleration continued for another day. The professor’s engines held, and Keith managed to eke a bit more thrust from them. It gave them slightly more velocity, possibly changing the endgame a day from now.