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“Come now, Captain, none of that. What are you suggesting and why?”

“According to Oran Rva, Strand and Ludendorff are two sides of the same coin. It’s clear the New Man knew more about those two than we do. It almost seems as if those two have been manipulating events behind the magic curtain, so to speak.”

“When did you become poetic?” O’Hara asked.

Maddox shook his head. “I believe that Ludendorff and Strand are privy to knowledge the rest of us lack. Strand created or helped to create the New Men, but he lost control of them.”

“Meaning what?” O’Hara asked.

“In this instance, that a group of Methuselah People created a society that went its own way. The New Men rebelled, deciding for themselves what the good life consisted of. They rejected the idea that they would be humanity’s defenders, deciding to be its rulers and remodelers instead. I’ve spoken with Dana. She told me that such things have happened before.”

“Really?” O’Hara asked.

“History is replete with military organizations forged to defend a society that decided to take over the reins of power. The Mamelukes or slave soldiers did it in Medieval Egypt. The Muslim rulers bought horse archer slaves to fight for them. After a time, the Mamelukes began to rule Egypt. To a lesser extent, the Praetorian Guard of ancient Rome did that too. They made and unmade many an emperor. The German barbarians in the Roman legions, brought in to fill the places the peaceful citizens refused to take, took over in the end. I could go on and on.”

“That does nothing to solve the problem of Strand and Ludendorff.”

“We know about them now,” Maddox said. “That will go a long way to solving the problem. We also know more about the New Men.”

“True,” O’Hara said. “We also know that the doomsday machine greatly aided them. The Wahhabi Caliphate is a shattered remnant of their former selves. Their navy isn’t going to help us in any appreciable way in the ongoing war with the New Men.”

“That’s true, Ma’am, but I think you’re overlooking a critical factor that is going to help us.”

O’Hara studied the captain with her tired eyes. “I’d like to hear this. Yes, we dodged a bullet, as the saying goes. But how does defeating the doomsday machine help us in the greater war against the New Men?”

“I’m surprised you don’t see it,” Maddox said.

The Iron Lady drummed her fingers on the desk.

“Even now,” the captain said, “Intelligence is combing the various estates and industries of the Methuselah People. The nuclear detonation in Monte Carlo has created an outcry for it.”

“I’m quite aware of that, Captain. The increased workload has given me many a sleepless night.”

“In his grab for the doomsday machine, Oran Rva used up some of the New Men’s most deeply embedded agents on Earth. We’re sweeping up more enemy espionage people by the day. Their secret service is shattered here, a broken reed.”

“That’s true,” O’Hara said. “Yes, I see your point. We’re consolidating our position.”

“It’s more than that,” Maddox said. “The Earth and the Commonwealth is uniting. We’re hardening our resolve. The enemy is losing his ability to learn about our plans. Given our espionage breakthroughs, it’s possible we’ll soon discover the location of the Throne World.”

“Are you suggesting we go onto the offensive?”

“Absolutely I am,” Maddox said. “I’m also suggesting that Victory spearhead the assault.”

“Without the help of the Wahhabi Navy?” O’Hara asked.

“It’s time we gathered the Windsor League warships and the Spacers under our command.”

“Such a thing will take time,” the brigadier said thoughtfully.

“If I might make another suggestion, Ma’am, I think we should rush a flotilla to the Xerxes System.”

O’Hara smiled tiredly. “The Lord High Admiral is already planning just that. As I said, we dodged a bullet, and our fleets are intact. The idea, though, of Builder drones still working after all these centuries and transferring pyramids in space… It leads us to a frightful question. Are more of those aliens out there?”

“More?”

“What would you call the doomsday machine but an alien vessel?” O’Hara asked.

“That’s a good point,” Maddox said.

O’Hara drummed her fingers on the desk until she sighed deeply. “We’ve uncovered some critical plots against us, only to discover that there are even more mysteries out there. Who built the doomsday machine? What happened to the Swarm?”

“I suggest we worry about these things one at a time,” Maddox said.

“Then I have a question for you. Do you believe we’re going to be given that luxury?”

“Only the future will tell us that, Ma’am. I’m still elated at our present victory. I want time to soak it in.”

“I can understand the feeling, Captain. But you must know the ancient saying, ‘There is no rest for the wicked.’”

“Is that us, Ma’am?”

“What else would you call the people of the Intelligence Service?”

Maddox didn’t answer the question, but turned away, staring at a glass case of model starships. He’d been wondering about something ever since the fight in the doomsday machine. He hadn’t told anyone his thoughts about it. More than ever, he wanted to know his father’s identity. Could it have been Oran Rva? He didn’t like to think so. As much as he disliked the New Men, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be his father’s killer.

O’Hara sighed. “Captain, I’m tired. The constant worry, the latest espionage war with the host of enemy agents…I need a rest. I plan to take a week off and recuperate. I suggest you do likewise.”

“Is Star Watch content to let Galyan orbit Earth alone?”

“We are in constant communication with the AI,” O’Hara said. “The Adok intelligence has made it quite clear that it will allow no other commander aboard Victory but you. Like it or not, you’re going to remain a starship captain for the foreseeable future.”

“I’m going to want my crew with me.”

O’Hara nodded as if that was obvious. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I believe you have a lady to escort to a surprise party.”

“How do you know about that?” Maddox asked.

“Please, Captain, I am the head of Star Watch Intelligence for a reason.”

“Yes indeed, Ma’am. I can see that.”

O’Hara smiled. “You did excellent work, Captain. You must realize that I’m proud of you.”

Maddox nodded ever so slightly, feeling a flush creep up his neck.

“Now you must go before I say something I’ll regret later,” O’Hara told him, “Goodbye for now, Captain.”

***

Maddox flew to the hospital in an air-car. He picked up Meta, pushing her wheelchair out of the building.

“This is ridiculous,” she said.

“It’s an old custom, I hear.”

“An Earth custom,” Meta said. “I’m a Rouen Colony woman, much stronger than the natives of this backwater planet.”

“Much prettier, you mean,” the captain said.

Meta smiled up at him.

Maddox stopped by the air-car, opening the passenger-side door. Then, he held out a hand, helping Meta into the vehicle.

He folded the chair and put it in the trunk of the air-car. Soon, he lifted, heading for a Normandy beach.

“Is Galyan in orbit?” Meta asked.

“Keeping watch,” Maddox said.

“I can’t imagine being him. In fact…” Meta faced the captain. “I’ve begun to feel sorry for Galyan.”

“Just a minute,” Maddox said. He turned on the radio. “Galyan?”

“Here, Captain Maddox,” the AI said.

“Are you feeling lonely?”

“That is a preposterous notion,” Galyan said. “I am in constant communication with the Earth’s greatest chess master. So far, I have beaten him three times. I have also configured a new probability process that will—”