The Lost Patrol Read Online Free PDF Page A

this?” Maddox asked. “What are you attempting to achieve?”
    “It will delight my controller to know that you’re confused seconds before you die. Good-bye, Captain Maddox. This is your final mission.”
    Maddox slapped the control to his seat restraints. They popped off.
    “What are you doing?” the android asked.
    Maddox grabbed an emergency cord and leaped upward. He pulled a parachute bundle free. The air-car had many emergency redundancies. As the slipstream caught him, jerking the captain away from the forward-moving but slowing air-car, the android lunged at the rising chute-bundle. The dying android clawed at the straps, its fingers hooking one. That ripped the cord out of the captain’s hand.
    A second later, the android exploded. Perhaps it had been intending to do that all along, taking Maddox into oblivion with it.
    The cord jerking out of his grip caused the captain to tumble head-over-heels in the air. The burning air-car headed down, shedding debris along the way.
    “Galyan,” he sub-vocalized. “I hope you can hear me.”
    There was nothing but the rush of wind from the earpiece.
    Maddox pressed the skin-pad on his throat. “Come in, Galyan. Can you hear me? I repeat. Can you hear me?”
    There was no response from the Adok AI.
    Maddox looked down. The distant ground rushed up all too fast. He would hit soon. The terrible realization that he would soon cease to exist welled up through him.
    Maddox took a deep breath as his stomach tightened with fear. He hated the sensation. To combat it, he strove for rational thought. The fear intensified, however. This was an awful feeling.
    Maddox closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at the ground. That helped enough so he could think again.
    Was there a Creator as the Builder had believed? It was time to make his peace with Him. Maddox strove to formulate more thoughts.
    He opened his eyes instead, staring at the waiting ground, causing the fear to reassert its hold.
     

-4-
     
    Lieutenant Keith Maker—he’d been promoted from Second Lieutenant—whooped with delight as the new catapult system launched his jumpfighter into near-orbital space.
    The small Scotsman was pressed against his cushioned seat, the Gs testing his stamina.
    “You’re not making me go unconscious,” he said.
    “Lieutenant,” Galyan said over the fighter’s intercom.
    “I’m right here, mate, wide awake and ready.”
    “We must accelerate the rescue attempt,” Galyan said.
    “Eh? There’s a problem?”
    “The captain has jumped out of the air-car.”
    “Say again,” Keith said.
    “The captain is plunging to the Earth. He has less than thirty seconds to impact.”
    “Now, why he’d go and do something like that, eh?”
    “The air-car exploded,” Galyan said.
    “Oh. Okay. That makes sense. Give me the coordinates.”
    “They are already in your flight computer.”
    Keith tapped the main screen. “Right, I see it. This is going to be tricky. I need more time—”
    “This is no time. You must fold now or the captain dies.”
    “I know, I know. There’s no time when you’re falling to your death—unless an angel of mercy named Keith Maker is ready to rescue you. I hope you know jumpfighters aren’t normally used in atmosphere.”
    “Please, Lieutenant, more action and less talk.”
    “I always talk, mate. But you need not worry.”
    The entire time he’d been talking, Keith had been tapping controls and readying his “tin can” for its incredible ability. It could fold space for short hops, moving from one location to another in the blink of an eye. It was a space fighter meant to be used in a vacuum. Under extremely limited conditions, it could function in atmosphere…as long as it didn’t remain there long or attempt to fly. It was not aerodynamic in the slightest.
    “Hop in, hop out,” Keith said under his breath. Louder, he said, “I hope you’re recording this, Galyan. Trainers will want to show recruits for many years to come what