Author: Vaughn Heppner
Date: 2020-11-11 08:00:00+00:00
Description: Marcus Cade had to cross 800 lonely light-years to Earth so he could begin searching for his beloved wife. But he was broke and his spaceship badly needed an overhaul. So he traded his one-of-a-kind Gyroc rifle to a stingy and half-mad mechanic for a cheap fix and a Nion XT Navigator. When Cade went to sleep during the journey, the traitorous nav performed its secret function, bringing his ship to a rift, through a vortex and into the web of an extraterrestrial conspiracy. Cade was not amused, not one damn bit. Meaning, the aliens might have gotten more than they bargained for, as Cade was a s

SF Books by Vaughn Heppner

THE SOLDIER SERIES:

The X-Ship

Escape Vector

THE A.I. SERIES:

A.I. Destroyer

The A.I. Gene

A.I. Assault

A.I. Battle Station

A.I. Battle Fleet

A.I. Void Ship

A.I. Rescue

A.I. Armada

LOST STARSHIP SERIES:

The Lost Starship

The Lost Command

The Lost Destroyer

The Lost Colony

The Lost Patrol

The Lost Planet

The Lost Earth

The Lost Artifact

The Lost Star Gate

The Lost Supernova

The Lost Swarm

The Lost Intelligence

Visit VaughnHeppner.com for more information

The Soldier:

Escape Vector

(The Soldier #2)

by Vaughn Heppner

Illustration © Tom Edwards

TomEdwardsDesign.com

Copyright © 2020 by the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Prologue

Aboard the battered ex-Concord Patrol Scout Descartes, a hatch began to slide open until it stalled, freezing in place. From the other side, someone muttered under his breath. Then, powerful fingers latched against the side of the hatch. There was a grunt and the squeal of metal as the hatch opened another few centimeters.

Centurion-Grade Ultra Marcus Cade squeezed through into his tiny quarters. He wore gray spaceman’s garb, including boots and a thin jacket. Cade had brush-cut hair, blue eyes and exuded power. He should, as he was a genetic super-soldier with dense bones, stronger than ordinary muscles and accelerated nerves, designed over a thousand years ago to battle cyborg troopers and win.

That was the rub, though—a thousand years ago. Everything he knew was dust and ashes: the gleaming Federation, Battle Unit 175—his brothers-in-arms—and his wife, his wife, dammit! He’d defeated all the other contenders in the Game to mount the platform and claim his wonderful bride Raina as his trophy. He’d loved Raina, made an everlasting oath to her and, the last time he’d seen her, had boarded a sleeper ship with her to go on vacation. He should have woken up to the most enjoyable time in his harsh existence.

Instead of waking up to joy, he’d found himself on an operating table a thousand years in the future. The miserable spymasters of a diminished Earth—too impoverished to build starships but with enough money for assassins and spies—had implanted an ancient cyborg obedience chip into his brain, making him their killer pasty. He’d won free from the chip to find himself alone in a dismal future almost nine hundred light-years from Earth.

Everything he knew, understood and loved had vanished.

One desperate hope drove him. He’d survived the sleeper ship in a stasis tube. Might his wife and others from Battle Unit 175 still be in stasis on Earth, somewhere deep in the bowels of the Intelligence Agency? He meant to find out and free them, saving the only people that mattered to him, as he was sick of being alone, sick of not having those around him who cared about and knew him.

That meant one more test of his skills. This future time to him was the same as being behind enemy lines, doing what he must in order to make it home again. Home was his wife and surviving friends from Battle Unit 175.

Cade scowled at the half-frozen hatch to his quarters, as it was yet another electrical malfunction on this bucket of a ship. There had been other malfunctions the past few weeks. Dr. Halifax—his former mercenary case officer for Earth Intelligence—said the wiring was degrading and needed an overhaul or replacement.

Thinking about it, Cade sat on the side of his perfectly made cot and opened the drawer of his nightstand. He took out a loaded WAK .55 Magnum revolver, setting it on top of the stand. Then, he picked up a wad of Concord Universal Credit Notes—cash in this part of the Orion Arm. He leaned over and stared into the drawer, using a finger to move trinkets and pieces of paper, but found no more credit notes.

Cade stared at the wad of bills in his hand. In the past, Ultra Command had provided him with the tools of his trade and a salary, and he did his duty. Now, he had to come up with money and resources himself. It was such a different way to think, to operate, and made him uneasy.

I’m behind enemy lines. That means using whatever I can to get it done.

Right. Get it done. The wad of notes was smaller than he remembered. Halifax had spent some at the last refueling stop. Had it really taken so much? Or had slippery Halifax wasted—or stolen—the money the moment he had the chance?

No. That wasn’t the point. He had what he had.

Cade removed the rubber band and divided the bills into denomination piles. He had seven 500-credit notes, two 100s, thirteen 50s and the remainder divided between 20s and 10s.

Where had all the cash gone?

This was all that remained from what Cade had collected—removed—from Roguskhoi Metals Headquarters on Durdane II. The installation had been on the Twelfth Floor of the Octagon Tower in the city of Garwiy. It had been a front for Earth Intelligence, a Group Six station, and thus quite targetable in Cade’s estimation. He’d made the doctor see the light about that.

Halifax and he had been traveling steadily through space since leaving the Durdane System, with the FTL Intersplit engine operational again. They were headed for Earth, of course. It made Cade antsy to think his wife was still over seven hundred light-years away.

He concentrated on the Concord Universal Credit Notes, considering recounting them. Nah. What was the point? They were low on cash, on any kind of funds.

The trouble was that the scout had never been designed for sustained travel. A Patrol mothership would launch a squadron of scouts, and they would fan out and soon return with intelligence. The scout’s Intersplit engine was designed for several light-years of travel, not hundreds at a time. The Descartes needed refueling and a routine overhaul, to say nothing about the electrical rewiring.

As Cade sat on his cot, he raised his head and stretched his back. He stood and cracked his battle-scarred knuckles.

Behind enemy lines. Whatever it takes.

He had one item he might sell: the Gyroc rifle and shells that had been so instrumental in his defeating an ancient Web-Mind on Avalon IV. Dr. Halifax said he knew a collector who would likely pay a pretty amount for the Gyroc and shells. Tarragon Down was an arms dealer living in the Sestos System, which was on their way.

Cade’s nostrils flared. Could he sell the Gyroc, a piece of his past? Damn straight, he could. Freeing his brothers-in-arms and wife was all that mattered.

“Raina,” he whispered. “I’m coming, babe. That’s a promise.”

Chapter One

Tarragon Down the arms dealer and manufacturer from Sestos III was a huge brutish man with gray skin, black eyes and red-dyed hair, artistically shaved on the sides and long on the top so the hair hung down onto the left side of his face. He wore an expensive black suit and slacks and was known as ruthless, hyper-intelligent and an amateur collector of alien curios from across the galaxy.

Today, he walked through a half-derelict torchship with two synthetically enhanced bodyguards trailing him. They wore synthi-leather jackets and kept their hands near holstered automatics, their attention taking in occasional sparks or prolonged sizzles from various pieces of equipment or dangling wires. Tarragon ignored the obvious disrepair and crushed used drink cartons and old frozen dinner dishes lying on the deck with his heavy shoes as he walked through the narrow ship passageways.

The man ahead of the trio—a thin asteroid miner with missing teeth and the vague stare of an iridix addict—kept up a constant blather regarding the exciting alien find in his cargo hold.

Despite Tarragon’s presence on the orbiting torchship, he didn’t trust the miner. There was something weird, something eerie about the man and his dirty garments. The miner stank from too few showers and other unhygienic choices. Even so, it wasn’t that the asteroid miner was hooked on iridix. Many of life’s losers were. No. It was something else; maybe the hypnotic stare in the eyes that suggested the miner had seen what? Marvels, horrors, psychological evils?

The shallow faced miner turned to him, smiling, showing the gaps among his remaining yellowed teeth. The man had brown staring eyes and—

Tarragon frowned, his left hand flexing as he debated with himself about drawing a shock rod and applying it liberally to the wretch.

There was a sinister glitter in the miner’s eyes that made Tarragon feel that he was meant to be the victim of some twisted joke.

If shock rodding the fool didn’t help, Tarragon would beat the miner senseless until his mushed brains leaked through his ears. Did this skeletal loser think he could trick the most intelligent man on Sestos III? Why, Tarragon had politicians and police chiefs on the take, men and women in high places who danced to his tune.

Tarragon thrust his left hand under the flap of his suit jacket, the thick fingers curling around the rod’s handle and thumb switch.

“Just a little farther,” the asteroid miner said in an annoying whine. “You’ll see what I mean, then, sir. You’ll definitely want to buy it. I assure you, I most assuredly assure you.”

Tarragon hesitated. Had he read the fool wrong? Maybe he saw desperation in the eyes, a deep but hidden understanding that he—the miner—was on the edge of losing what remained of his sanity and this was his last chance to save it.

Tarragon grunted, releasing his hold of the rod. For the miner’s own sake, the iridix-sniffing loser had better be right about the curio. Tarragon felt soiled walking through this derelict heap of a ship. The man had not only forgotten how to fix equipment, but to clean up his messes. Just how long had the wretch been alone in deep space, anyway?

The grimy miner stepped before a sealed hatch. He tapped it with a dirty fingernail as craftiness twisted across his skeletal features. “Are you sure you want either of them to see this, sir?”

“What’s that?” Tarragon snapped.

The miner pointed at the two bodyguards.

Without turning around to eye his bruisers, Tarragon said, “Open up, already. I’m in a hurry.” He also wanted to get off this pigsty of a vessel.

The miner hunched his head, flinching as he nodded. “I understand. I do, I do. But I assure you, sir, you won’t be in a hurry after you see this.”

Tarragon’s gaze narrowed in annoyance.

The miner grinned pathetically, hunching like a mongrel fearing a beating.

Tarragon almost struck him on principle. What was the wretch up to, anyway?

The grinning fool of a miner faced the door, using his free hand to cover the fingers tapping in the hatch’s code. The heavy door clicked. The man pulled, barely opening it and slipping through into darkness, disappearing from view.

Tarragon frowned in alarm. Was this an assassination attempt? Did the miner work for a secret Intelligence agency? He knew about Group Six on Earth, having taken several assignments from contact officers such as Dr. Halifax.

A light clicked on in the compartment.

“Don’t you want to see it?” the miner asked from within the compartment.

Tarragon raised an eyebrow and yanked on the handle, opening the hatch further. It revealed a small empty compartment—not a cargo hold—and with yet more litter on the deck. There was a long low shelf built against the back bulkhead. The miner snatched the lone item there, a thing that shimmered. He held it against his chest as if it was a beloved treasure, also hiding it from Tarragon’s view.

The momentary shimmer—

Tarragon felt as if an electric pulse had leapt to his eyes. His head jerked, and he clicked his teeth together. The pulse seemed to travel along his optical nerves to his brain. Disorientation struck, and he blinked repeatedly. He massaged his eyes, groaned, and his heart hammered in his chest. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He shivered and felt as if a snake crawled up his back to curl around his neck. Suspicion struck him, struck him hard.

He glanced back at the two bodyguards.

They were synthetically strong and dangerously fast, with steel-reinforced bones and electrically speeded reflexes. They eyed their massive boss, each stepping back as if in alarm.

“Wait here,” Tarragon said. He stepped past the hatch into the compartment and closed the heavy steel door.

The scrawny asteroid miner turned with an evil grin and an eviler light shining against his narrow features. The light came from the fist-sized object he held with both hands against his chest. Perhaps as bad, his brown eyes burned with an ancient lust, one, it seemed, willing to do anything to gain its desired end.

The feeling of tightness around Tarragon’s neck increased. The massive arms dealer hunched his blubbery shoulders as if he would lunge and attack the wretch in order to save his life.

“Look,” the miner crooned. With both hands, he fingered a fist-sized globe of glass or crystal. In the globe shone hundreds of tiny stars and swirls of galactic nebulae.

Tarragon’s shoulders lowered to their usual position and he began breathing normally. The stars in the globe, they twinkled strangely, fixing his vision. The swirling nebulae, they held secrets: potent, wonderful and lovely mysteries.

“Hold it out,” Tarragon whispered. “I can hardly see it.”

The miner’s dirty fingers clutched the globe even tighter than before as he turned away from the arms dealer.

“Is it for sale or not?” Tarragon asked thickly.

The miner glanced back at him over a shoulder. He licked his lips, an obscene gesture somehow. “I’ve—I’ve changed my mind,” he said quickly. “I-I thought I needed to repair the ship. But the cost is too high, much too high. Don’t you see? I no longer want to sell. To hell with the ship!” he shouted.

Tarragon squeezed his eyes closed. The desire to see the artificial stars and nebulae again—to understand the wonderful secrets they wished to impart—

“I’m already here,” Tarragon said in a hoarse voice, as he opened his eyes. “Let me take a look, you fool.”

The miner was staring at what he held. It seemed to take an effort of will for him to tear his gaze from it and peer at Tarragon again over a shoulder. “It…it speaks to me. It whispers mysterious joys. It tells me ways to reach those joys.”

That was too much for Tarragon. The urge for a look— “You fool. I said let me see.” Tarragon grabbed a shoulder, wrenching the miner around. He wrapped powerful fingers around a skinny arm, pulling.

“No, no!” the miner shrieked, struggling to free himself. “Release me. I’ve changed my mind about selling. Let me go!”

“It’s too late for that,” Tarragon snarled, ripping the miner’s arm back.

That allowed the arms dealer a much better, fuller look at the stellar globe. The sight was intoxicating, and Tarragon could not say why. He could hear inarticulate, ghostly sounds—the globe whispered to him in an alien tongue. Still, he understood that it promised glorious secrets that would bring delights and power, great and wonderful power.

“Give it to me,” Tarragon said, reaching for the globe.

The miner slapped the powerful hand, finally tugging his triceps out of the arm dealer’s grasp.

Tarragon snarled like a beast, his fleshy features twisting evilly. He reached for the globe a second time.

The miner shouted and repeatedly slapped at the meaty hand.

Tarragon grunted, shoving until his fingers touched the smooth glass.

The miner shrieked again, keeping hold of the globe with one hand and trying to pull his holstered, belted sidearm with the other.

Tarragon perceived the move as a threat to his life—perhaps even an assassination attempt after all. Yes, the miner had lured him here and somehow stimulated his mind with this cosmic bauble in order to distract him. Tarragon wrenched the globe from the miner even as the miner drew his sidearm. Tarragon swung powerfully, hitting the miner on the forehead with the globe and knocking the man back. Tarragon didn’t give the scrawny wretch time to recover, but rushed him with his bulk while hitting the miner against the head again and again.

Finally, Tarragon realized he was on his knees, having bashed the wretch’s skull into pulp, with brains dripping from his hands and sleeves. The fact startled him, and momentarily brought him back to his senses. He climbed to his feet and wiped his hands and sleeves as best he could and studied the corpse. He would leave the dead wretch here to rot.

Slipping the bauble into a jacket pocket, thereby acquiring ownership of it—after all, having it in his possession was nine tenths of the law, as the saying went—he began plotting what he would do next.

Chapter Two

Tarragon Down stepped out of the sealed compartment, eying his two bodyguards.

The two enhanced killers did not ask questions. They did not make a point of staring at his stained sleeves or bother to ask about the miner. They waited stoically, long ago having learned to appear disinterested in any oddities displayed by their boss.

Likely, it saved their lives. Just as likely, they both knew it, as they must have heard the miner’s shrieks, at least.

Tarragon flew the half-derelict torchship to one of his factories on the water moon Ember that orbited the gas giant Sestos V. There, he had a team strip the ship into pieces, sending the parts to various places, effectively erasing its existence. The miner’s corpse entered an incinerator, and that was the end of the matter for the dead man.

In retrospect—a week later—Tarragon wished the miner still lived. He wanted to know where the wretch had found the cosmic bauble. The arms dealer was made of sterner stuff than the loser, but the globe had ensnared him just the same. Tarragon spent many long days and nights staring into the fist-sized globe of stars and streaks of mystery nebulae. He never got enough, and he heard a ghostly, inarticulate alien whisper thousands of times. The maddening thing was that he never, ever understood what the words meant. And he longed to know, grew desperate with the need.

Tarragon lost weight, money and critical deals because he was slacking in the management of his financial empire—and by some alchemy of superior intellect, innate ruthlessness and a deep understanding of vice, he realized he had to break the object’s hold over him, fast. If he failed, he would become just like the wretched miner, maybe even worse because he’d started so much higher in life.

He went to a domed factory on Ember and locked himself in his largest office. The globe was in his jacket pocket, the same jacket he’d worn the day… As Tarragon sat at his desk, he fingered the jacket, eying the dirty fabric. No, the suit jacket was filthy with food stains, sweat and old dried blood.

Just like the wretch he’d killed.

The massive arms dealer nodded as shock and fear bubbled in his brain. The globe was an addiction. Yet, how had it ensnared him?

He patted the pocket again, feeling the outline of the globe. He knew the stars shined in it. The nebulae drifted. Ahhh… He had a vague feeling the globe was magic. Not magic as in a wizard’s spell, but some high-tech, alien inducement lurked in the item.

That meant what, though? Perhaps the light rays emanating from the tiny stars played upon neurons in his brain. He did not consciously perceive what those rays did to him, but clearly, he thought he heard whispers and promises of power or other delights from it. If one looked long enough at the stars, he became careless of his hygiene and other things, like fixing a torchship or keeping an economic empire running smoothly.

Tarragon thought deeply as he sat at his desk. He’d studied the late asteroid miner’s log. It had shown that the man had not mined or prospected for space ore, but had traveled through the Vellani Rift, crisscrossing it repeatedly in one direction and then another. It was as if the miner had been looking for something.

What had the miner been searching for and why? Clearly, the miner’s actions had not been sane or even logical.

Unless…

Tarragon patted the object in his suit pocket. Perhaps some advanced being had constructed the object and set it adrift—much like an ancient seafarer shipwrecked on a deserted isle putting a message in a bottle and hoping someone found it and eventually rescued him.

Tarragon cocked his head. That was an odd thought. Could the thought have come from the object, from the rays messing with his neurons?

Tarragon sat perfectly still, wondering if he’d stumbled upon the answer. Finally, he shook his head. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to search the Vellani Rift. He’d come to this office in order to regain his mind. It was here he’d slain his former partners and taken over the business for himself. It was here he’d learned to do things his way and no other.

Tarragon patted the globe in his suit pocket and raised the hand, watching it shake. Could he even do this? Yes! He must either head to the rift or break the globe’s hold over his imagination today.

Swallowing hard, he stood and slipped. He caught his balance by putting a hand on the desk. He found that he was shaking and that tears streaked down his cheeks. He wanted to vomit, but he shook his head instead.

Slipping the suit jacket from his sweaty torso and holding it, Tarragon staggered through a secret door and stumbled down a hidden corridor. He was sobbing and shaking and wanted to give up this insane idea. A hard, grim part of him—the core of his personality—refused that shit. He would rule his own life and that was final.

He entered a cruel room with chains, torture devices and a big old-fashioned sledgehammer in the corner.

Tossing the jacket on the floor, Tarragon rushed to the sledgehammer and raised it high. He stood in that pose for several seconds. He was shaking worse than ever and hiccupping from his sobs.

With a shout of rage, he rushed the jacket and swung the sledgehammer, completely missing his target. Closing his eyes, willing himself to act, he hammered again, and again, and again.

With a grunt, he released the handle, finally daring to open his eyes. Dropping to his hands and knees, he crawled to his crumpled, dirty suit jacket and felt the pockets. The globe had been reduced to tiny shattered pieces.

He’d done it. He was free—or so he believed.

As the days and weeks passed, he regained an interest in his arms empire; he regained the lost weight and more. He thought less and less about the globe except for one item he’d retained from the torchship: the Nion XT, the computerized navigator torn from the miner’s vessel. In truth, the Nion was a newer model, an advanced model, worth more than anything else taken from the salvaged ship.

Tarragon wondered about that to such an extent that he attempted to find out where the miner had purchased the advanced unit. On that score, however, Tarragon found nothing.

What should he do with the Nion? He didn’t want to sell it to just anyone. No. He would sell it to someone he planned to cheat.

His eyes glowed with delight. Why did he want to do that, exactly? Ah. He realized why. He wanted to screw with whoever had made the globe and set it adrift so the thing had come to him and screwed with him. Tit for tat, as the old saying went. He would tantalize the globe-maker—even if the being never knew it—and destroy any hope of any rescue by making sure the Nion XT never left the Sestos System.

Finally, two hundred and fifty-four days after he’d killed the asteroid miner, Tarragon Down found himself in his favorite office at a factory on the water moon. The huge arms dealer sat behind a mammoth desk, with the same two bodyguards from that time standing to the side.

Across the desk from him sat a devious fellow that he happened to remember well, an olive-skinned Dr. Halifax. The man had narrow, highly intelligent features and inquisitive bright eyes. The doctor wore stylish garments and shoes. What was interesting was that he’d represented Group Six of Earth before.

Beside the thin doctor was a big sucker, a mean-looking, muscular man in spaceman’s gray called Marcus Cade. There was something powerful and perhaps even frightening about him, a veritable tiger of a man who walked as if he owned the universe. Tarragon had a feeling that even his two bodyguards felt the man’s deadliness.

“What can I do for you?” Tarragon asked, knowing that Halifax had spent three frantic days trying to set up the meeting.

It turned out the doctor wanted an overhaul on the Descartes, the ex-Concord Patrol scout. Tarragon remembered working on the vessel many years ago. The weasel-faced doctor also wanted better weapons and equipment this time around.

It became interesting when Tarragon asked about payment, as it showed these two were working on their own and were not under the protection of Earth Intelligence

“I have something I think you’ll want to see,” Halifax said slyly.

Tarragon nodded for the doctor to continue.

“A Gyroc rifle,” Cade said in a deep voice, speaking for the first time. “Have you ever heard of one?”

There was lethal competence to Cade. Tarragon felt it exuding from the man and heard it in his voice. He found the soldier’s voice frightening, and there was something else. There was an intense hatred of Cade welling up in him. Tarragon had no idea why. It had come from seemingly nowhere.

Tarragon folded his thick hands together on the desk. It was a signal to the bodyguards. The two did nothing visible, but they shifted to high alert.

To Tarragon’s heightened senses, it seemed that Cade knew it. The soldier sat back in his chair, his eyes half-lidded. His right hand nonchalantly slid into the left sleeve, perhaps letting the fingers slide onto a hidden gun holstered on the forearm.

Tarragon put his hands flat on the desk. It meant, Wait, I’ll handle this myself.

The bodyguards relaxed. Cade did not.

Tarragon swallowed, making an audible sound. “Gyroc rifles were used by Ultras. That was in the Great War against the cyborgs over a thousand years ago.”

“Right you are,” Halifax said. “And we happen to have one.”

Despite the fear, Tarragon felt his interest rise. “Is that so? I’d love to see it.”

Halifax glanced at Cade. The soldier watched Tarragon, never taking his eyes off the huge man. Halifax shrugged and worked out a time and place for the next meeting, and after a few stipulations, Tarragon agreed.

Before the next meeting, Tarragon decided he hated Halifax and Cade both. He would proceed with caution, however. He would work out a deal to keep them near, and he would use his best teams to—

“Kidnap Halifax to find out about Cade,” Tarragon whispered as he walked to a ship. He would proceed against the soldier with greater knowledge and understanding after that.

The meeting took place the next day as previously arranged. On a table set in a huge parking lot in the middle of a domed city, Cade opened a large case. Tarragon came forward and examined the Gyroc. The weapon and shells seemed genuine and deadly. Tarragon badly wanted them.

“Yes,” Tarragon said. “We have a deal.”

The Descartes would go to one of his specialty shops on the water moon. Cade said he would remain with or near the ship at all times. So, Tarragon decided to have his people actually upgrade the vessel as agreed. Otherwise, he risked losing these two. He wanted them both so his interrogators could ask them endless questions.

Two days later, on Ember, at Tarragon’s orders, one of the items installed in the Descartes was the Nion XT Navigator. It was a statement, in a way, as the nav had its own agenda. That was true with Tarragon as well. He planned to not only cheat these two, but also kill them after he drained their minds of unusual knowledge. He was seldom wrong about such things. If nothing else, he would learn more about Group Six of Earth.

Three days after that—barely in time, as it turned out—a kidnapping team snatched Dr. Halifax from a massage parlor as a darling of a worker pressed her fingers against his bare bony back as he lay on a table. The team rushed a drugged Halifax to the domed factory site on Ember. As soon as Tarragon learned about the successful snatch, he sent word to the shipyard refurbishing the Descartes. On no account should they give Marcus Cade the scout.

“Is that clear?” Tarragon asked over a hand-sized comm unit. He sat in the back of a pacer negotiating city streets.

“Yes, sir,” a woman said.

He cut the connection, pocketing the unit. Now was the perfect opportunity to learn more about Earth’s premier Intelligence Agency and figure out why he hated Marcus Cade so much. From the back of the pacer, he pulled out the unit and called his interrogation team next, telling them the sorts of questions to ask Halifax and to start the process immediately. Once they were finished—Tarragon hesitated and decided he would give the execution order later. He had a business meeting he needed to attend. After the meeting, he would give his full attention to Halifax and later, to the damned Marcus Cade.

***

Meanwhile, the woman at the shipyard who’d spoken to Tarragon marched through a corridor to the outer office to speak with Cade and convince him the scout wasn’t ready yet. To her horror, she’d just learned that he’d been notified about its readiness an hour ago and was already on the premises. There had been a mix-up, obviously, errors made in the office, and she knew that she’d better correct that fast or it was her hide on the line.

Chapter Three

Marcus Cade stood before the customer counter in the main office of Down’s Space Repair Yard on the water moon Ember. This was a luxury suite with a startling beauty standing behind the counter. She was tall, with brunette hair in a high coif, wore a shimmering sequined dress and had long red fingernails.

Cade wore his customary gray spaceman’s garb, including the WAK .55 Magnum revolver, which was holstered at his side. He also had the seven-inch boot-knife tucked away where it belonged.

“Yes,” the striking woman said, inspecting a computer screen. “The ship is ready, and I see that you’ve already made full payment.”

“Great,” Cade said.

A back door opened behind the counter area and an older, shorter woman stepped near the first. The older woman had short dark hair, wore an expensive but conservative business suit, had an implant in her right ear and a mini-microphone at her mouth.

“I’ll take care of this,” the older woman told the younger.

“Oh,” the brunette said, surprised. “But there’s no need. Everything is ready. I’m about to show Mr. Cade where he can go for pickup.”

“No,” the older woman said. “That’s the problem.” She turned to Cade, giving him a professional smile. “There’s been a slight delay. The ship isn’t ready.”

Cade said and did nothing as he noted the older woman’s concern, perhaps even worry. How was she going to try to screw with him, and why?

“What kind of problem?” the brunette asked.

“Never mind that,” the older woman snapped at her. “I said I’ll take care of it.”

The brunette frowned. “But Mr. Cade said—”

“It’s time for your break,” the other said. “Now, if you understand me.”

Cade did.

“I see…” the brunette said a moment later, finally catching on. She gave Cade a nervous glance, smiling to cover sudden fear, he thought. Without further words, she turned and hurried out the back door.

“I’m Simone Attar, Mr. Cade,” the older woman said, speaking professionally, trying to hide her nervousness. “It appears—”

“Just a minute,” Cade said. This had to be about Halifax somehow. Cade turned his back on the woman and drew out a communicator. Halifax was supposed to stay in touch with him. Cade tapped a button and let the communicator buzz. No answer. He tried again, getting an abrupt prerecorded message this time.

As Cade put away the communicator, he faced the older woman, Simone Attar. She was watching him carefully. He smiled. Two could play this game. As a soldier, he detested lying. Team members told the truth even if it hurt. Shoot straight, fight courageously and tell the truth. But he was behind enemy lines, and this was a matter of tactics. Sometimes tactics meant maneuvering, sometimes it meant trickery. Lying was trickery, hence, the code of a soldier allowed for that on the battlefield. As far as Cade was concerned, this was now a battlefield.

“I forgot something on the ship,” he said, his smile slipping because he wasn’t very good at lying. “I, uh, I’m afraid I need the item right away. If I could just pick it up…?”

“Certainly, Mr. Cade, if you could describe the object to me, I’ll have one of the men pick it up and bring it to the office at once.”

Did she know he was lying? She must realize—No, stick to the issue, Soldier. Reach your ship.

“It’s a personal item,” Cade said. “I-I, ah, have to get it myself.”

“Certainly, I would like to do this—”

“Listen!” he said, banging the counter with an open hand.

Simone jumped.

Cade wanted to be clever and fast with a good lie. His brain simply wasn’t working like that. Oh, hell.

“What are you doing?” Simone said.

Cade put both hands on the counter and jumped, vaulting over to land beside her on her side. He put a palm on her left shoulder, forcing her toward the back door.

“Mr. Cade,” she said. “This is—”

Why couldn’t she just shut up and do what he said? He squeezed her shoulder to convince her the old-fashioned way.

Simone gasped, twisting under the iron grip.

He opened the back door and propelled her through into an empty hallway, releasing his hold.

“Simone,” he said in an even voice. “When did you last speak to Mr. Tarragon Down?”

“Sir?”

He reached for the same shoulder.

Simone flinched away, turning pale. “Please. Don’t touch me.”

Because she was a woman, he would try to persuade her one more time. “You do know the kind of man you work for, don’t you?”

Simone hesitated before saying, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s too bad.” Cade drew the knife from his boot and made a show of letting her see it. That had worked in the past. “Now, I didn’t want to permanently disfigure you—”

“Please,” Simone sobbed, dropping to her knees and looking up into Cade’s eyes. Her panic intensified and she blurted, “I believe Mr. Down called from his favorite factory.”

“And…?” Cade asked, as he fingered the tip of the knife.

Simone told him what Tarragon had told her.

Cade squinted as he thought fast. He couldn’t get hold of Halifax, and Tarragon had called from his favorite site—if Simone was telling the truth about that. “Tell me about this site,” he said.

Simone stammered a few details, the key one being how Mr. Down’s associates had all suddenly died of various causes there eleven years ago, and he had taken full control of the company afterward.

Cade withdrew a small unit from a pocket. He’d had the doctor swallow a specially made locator. Cade pressed a switch, and a tiny holo-map popped up showing where the doctor was located. Cade showed the holo-map to Simone.

She nodded vigorously. “That’s the place. Oh, please don’t cut me, Mr. Cade. I’ll cooperate. I promise, I will.”

I don’t believe it. She’s stalling me. It showed Simone had guts. He could appreciate that. Hmm, the other brunette had left in a hurry, probably to get help. That help would likely be men with weapons. In that case—Cade inhaled and made his decision.

“Get on your feet.”

Simone began shivering. “Please, Mr. Cade, don’t do anything to me. I haven’t done anything to you.”

He focused on her, admiring her guts but sweeping that aside. He would do whatever it took to save his brothers-in-arms and wife.

“Simone,” he said the word heavy with threat.

Simone began sobbing quietly as she climbed to her feet.

Cade sheathed the boot knife and grabbed one of her elbows. With a hard wrench of his wrist he could break the joint. He would try easy first and applied just enough pressure to make her whimper.

“Listen to me, Simone. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded.

“Stop crying—now.”

Simone sniffled, hiccupped and swallowed several times in an obviously painful way. But she stopped crying.

“You sent the other woman to get guards,” Cade said.

“No!”

Once more, Cade applied pressure to the elbow.

Simone twisted in pain, crying out.

“The guards are coming because you sent for them,” Cade said in a low voice. “You did Mr. Down’s bidding, but the action could cost you your life. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded miserably.

“You can survive the day,” Cade said. “But you’re going to have to think. I want my ship, and I want it intact. If I can board it and go, you’ll live. If I have to fight the guards you summoned, you could die in the crossfire. That isn’t my wish, but I don’t really care. You’ve brought this on yourself. Nod if you understand what I’m saying.”

“Please, Mr. Cade, I can show you how to board your ship. We’ll bypass the guards, I swear.”

“On your life, Simone?”

Renewed terror shined in her yes. “Yes,” she whispered.

Cade believed and almost pitied her. Whatever it takes so you can save your darling Raina. You must get the Descartes for that. “Start talking me through this. And listen, Simone, if you’re smart—and I think you might be—you’re going to survive this just fine.”

“Mr. Down will hurt me after this is all over.”

A harsh grin slid onto Cade’s face. “He might not survive to do that.”

Simone glanced back at him before quickly facing forward. “You’re a maniac, a killer.”

“I’m a soldier who’s tired of others cheating me. Now start talking before I get angry.”

Chapter Four

Simone and Cade hurried through a well-lit underground corridor. She’d used a clearance card to gain access all while he’d kept hold of one of her elbows.

The big revolver was in his other hand. Every once in a while, they passed a closed door. Cade hadn’t asked her about them. His keen hearing picked up nothing from behind each door. If a hit team had been waiting, he was certain he would have heard something.

Her comm unit buzzed. Cade took it, inspected the device and did something to it before putting it on the floor, leaving the thing behind. Forgetting about her personal comm unit until this moment had been a mistake on his part. Tarragon’s hit team—or guards—might already know he was down here. Did they know he’d taken her captive?

His ability to pull this off likely rested on that one point.

“Simone,” he said.

She stared back at him in terror.

“You’re doing well,” he said in a neutral tone. “So far, I’m satisfied with your behavior. Now, however, I want a better weapon than the one I’m carrying.”

“Excuse me?”

He holstered the revolver and turned her around to face him. “A better weapon,” he said. “Where’s the armory?”

“I-I don’t know about anything like that.”

“Simone,” he warned.

She turned pale and started shivering. “I can’t tell you. They’ll be there.”

“No. That’s where they’re not going to be. A machine pistol would be nice. Maybe a suit of body armor, too. Does one of these doors lead to the armory?”

She nodded.

“Show me,” he said.

“And you’ll let me go?”

He smiled as if to say, “Good try, but no dice.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Six doors ahead,” she said.

“It’s time to run,” he said, glancing at her shoes. “Be glad you’re not wearing heels.”

He pushed her forward. She started to trot. He followed. “Faster, Simone,” he said from behind.

She ran faster, but it was still pathetically slow.

“As fast as you can,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you from falling.”

She did as ordered, moving in a stumbling run and soon gasping for air. She tripped over her own feet and would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed an arm and held her up. Finally, she panted red-eyed before a door.

Cade stepped to the door, putting an ear against it. “Give me your card.”

“It won’t work on this door.”

He almost believed her until her right eye twitched slightly. “Let’s give it a try anyway,” he said, continuing to admire her guts. Many men would have already broken down at this point.

Reluctantly, she handed him the card.

He put it in a slot, and nothing happened.

“See?” she whispered.

He turned the card the other way and tried again. A light blinked green and the door snicked. Cade pulled it open, peering down a short corridor.

Cade glanced at her. She shrank back with pleading in her eyes. Cade drew the WAK .55 Magnum and charged silently down the corridor. He held her card in his other hand. He turned a corner and raced into a workroom with a fridge and cabinets. There were two other doors. He chose one and kicked it open.

The other room was vacant and held monitor screens with chairs. He stepped in and put a palm on each chair seat. None of them was warm. Had the watchers joined the hit team or guards? That seemed likely.

Cade went to the other door, breaking in, and found weapons. He picked a slick-looking machine pistol, grabbing loaded magazines for it. He inserted a magazine, racked it and pulled the trigger to test it, firing three bullets into a wall and nearly deafening himself in the process. He stuffed the extra magazines into a carrying pouch, dropped in some stun grenades and scanned the room. There were torso vests. He chose the biggest and buckled it into place over his jacket. Then he ran back to the main corridor.

Simone was gone, of course. He heard the patter of feet, recognized the noise as her running and stumbling back the way they had come.

Cade had deliberately left her behind so she would do just that. She would likely pick up her comm unit, but that wouldn’t help her, as he’d removed the tiny power unit. He’d let her go in case he didn’t kill Tarragon Down today. This way, Tarragon might not kill her later for helping him.

The soldier’s nostrils flared. He faced the other direction and began to sprint. He had surprise, and now was the time to use it. Surprise was a force multiplier. Even though he was better at this than anyone else on the planet, he was still just one man and could use some multiplication on his side.

***

Simone had verbally gone over the route three times with him. Cade remembered the briefing as he charged up some stairs. He climbed wall rungs next, and then threw open a heavy trapdoor, poking his head into open air. He stared at a stretch of tarmac with four hangers. He focused on the one with a huge “C” painted on the side. He did not spy anyone waiting to ambush him.

Climbing out of the trapdoor, closing it behind him, Cade walked briskly across the taxiway toward Hangar “C.” There was a dome over the entire area and stars shining above. Every living area on the water moon had a dome. He forced himself to walk to avoid drawing attention to himself.

A siren began to blare from behind.

Cade turned around. About a kilometer away, he spied half a dozen black-clad people jumping into two motorized carts. That would the hit team or guards. They’d spotted him, but they were nearly a kilometer away.

With a savage laugh, Cade broke into a sprint. They had revealed themselves. He didn’t think there were more gunmen on the premises.

He raced into the open hangar and saw the Descartes, the ex-Concord Patrol scout. It was long, with stubby short wings for atmospheric maneuvering. The scout had four crew quarters, a piloting, science and exercise room and a large back engine compartment. It stood on four legs or struts.

A side hatch was open up there on the side near a wing, with a ladder to scale it.

All the cables and equipment the repair people had used were gone. The scout was prepped and would be ready for takeoff once he started the engine. It had a full tank of deuterium fuel, new armaments and specialty equipment.

Cade raced for the ladder, reaching it and scrambling up into home base. One thing it did lack—the Gyroc and shells, the payment for the work.

Cade shrugged as he turned, flipping inner bulkhead switches. The ladder retracted, and the outer hatch closed smoothly. Yeah, baby, the electrical system was working properly again.

He hurried down a short ship corridor for the piloting chamber.

Chapter Five

Cade’s lips drew back as he concentrated. He was in the piloting chamber, strapped into the pilot’s seat, and had left the repair-yard dome, exiting through a hole he’d blasted. He’d used the twin .50-caliber guns, one on each wing, to make the illegal opening. Afterward, he raced across frozen water-moon tundra, heading for—

On the piloting viewer before him a red symbol began to flash. Tarragon had an armaments factory on the water moon—his favorite site, according to Simone. Cade had learned the factory produced prohibited weaponry—prohibited on Sestos III, in any case. The flashing symbol indicated that the factory defensive systems had sensor-lock on the speeding scout.

Had Simone contacted Tarragon, warning him? That seemed likely. Would Ember’s orbital defenses come to Tarragon’s aid because Cade had blown an opening in the repair-yard dome? That seemed quite possible. Surprise and speed: those were Cade’s twin tickets to pulling this off. Tarragon would have heavy political pull. To win—to escape the Sestos System—Cade was relying upon his combat skills and brazen action.

The scout zoomed over low frozen hills. The armament’s factory dome glittered in the distance, with a vast frozen lake behind it.

The flashing on the controls—the sensor-lock on his craft—Cade pressed a switch. On the underbelly of the Descartes, two sleek missiles detached, their rocket engines igniting.

The soldier watched through the polarized window as both missiles streaked away, using the defensive sensor-lock as a guiding beam to target. The missiles were Tarragon Armaments’ highest-selling export items.

Cade clicked another switch. A decoy-beacon ejected from the scout, sailing high but falling behind. Afterward, to make sure he broke their lock, he took the scout lower, skimming a bare few meters over the icy surface, making the spacecraft shake.

Two enemy missiles had left outer dome launchers. They zoomed fast and flashed by above the scout. One of them smashed against the decoy-beacon, already a distance behind the scout. The missile’s warhead detonated, obliterating itself and the decoy. The second warhead also detonated, likely because of proximity to the blast of the first.

Cade laughed, with his blue eyes agleam like cold sapphires. No more missiles lofted from the nearing factory launchers. The reason was obvious as black smoke billowed from them, struck by Cade’s counter-sensor missiles.

Cade took the scout up, the huge factory dome shimmering in the starlight. The soldier activated the two .50-calibers, slowed down hard so he was thrust against his straps, and engaged the gravity dampeners. Soon, the scout hovered in place before the upper dome. He hammered it with explosive rounds. After the twelfth round, and just like at the repair-yard dome, an area of reinforced material cracked. With the impact of more shells, the cracking lines grew. The seventeenth shell achieved breakthrough. Heavy inner dome atmosphere expelled at hurricane force, causing more pieces to fly outward.

Engaging a targeting device, the soldier launched three hunter-bombs, sending the high explosives against a separate area of the interior arms-manufacturing plant.

According to what Cade knew, there were no people inside the targeted buildings, as most of this factory was automated.

The bombs struck and detonated, and factory walls and equipment blew apart, rising in a geyser before raining back down. No fires burned, as the hurricane shriek blew them out as they started.

Cade flew the Descartes through the hole in the dome, using the gravity units to float downward. The escaping atmosphere shook the vessel, but that lessened as the majority of the heavier air escaped. He acquired new targets as drones started lifting from an interior silo. Cade let the .50-calibers speak for him. Soon, no more drones appeared, the pieces of the others scattered on the ground.

Cade took the Descartes all the way down, landing light as a feather, as the interior atmosphere had settled to the water moon’s thin norm. He unhooked from his seat, grabbed the machine pistol and ammo pouch and raced for the scout’s exit.

He donned a breather, slapped a switch and watched the hatch open. He walked onto a wing and jumped, landing with a grunt.

He ran for a building, a smaller one, opening a door, shoving inward against escaping atmosphere. Once inside, he shut the door and removed the breather, as there was still normal air in here. With a handheld unit, he zeroed in on Halifax’s location and started sprinting through the complex.

Instinct caused him to slow as he heard a sound. He put away the locator unit, listening as he tiptoed through a corridor. There, he heard the noise again—

His eyebrows shot up.

Two men appeared—the bionic bodyguards he’d seen before with Tarragon. They rolled a portable flamer—a hot plasma ejector—ahead of them.

Cade drove into a side room as a boiling clot of plasma flew through the corridor. Fires started at its heated passage, and with a whoosh of burning fire it slammed into a back wall.

“We’ll kill you, Cade,” a bionic bodyguard shouted. “You’re finished.”

From the side room, Cade rolled into the burning corridor. From the floor, he fired the machine pistol. He didn’t aim at the armored guards, as there would be no point, but at their recharging flamer. The bullets hammered—

The two bodyguards split, running in different directions as they shouted in alarm.

The bullets broke through the flamer. The portable cannon erupted with a blast of plasma and shards of raining metal. Like flamethrower-packs of a distant era, portable flamers could be dangerous to their handlers.

After shards rained over Cade as he hugged the floor, he crawled through the side door. Plasma fire blocked the route ahead. He jumped up and began searching for another way to reach Halifax’s location.

Soon, he found a different corridor and ran into a large room.

A man popped up from behind stacked crates, firing at him. Two slugs whined off Cade’s torso protector. He fired from the hip, the man’s head shattering under a hail of bullets. Dashing to other crates, Cade looked around, scanning the rest of the storage room. He didn’t see anyone else, but he heard creaks and a man subtly charging a weapon. Cade hurled a stun grenade. Crates exploded. Cade zigzagged through the room to the spot and found a guard lying on the floor bleeding to death.

This was taking too long. The water moon’s orbital defenses would surely be on high alert by now. Tarragon would have heard of the attack and must be trying to marshal more forces.

Cade ran out of the storage area and down a new corridor. His machine pistol chattered five more times, killing three more defenders. His torso protector absorbed another shot that would have otherwise slain him. He panted, saw from the locator that Halifax was behind a nearby door, and decided he had to go in gun blazing. Increasing speed, Cade used a flying mule kick. With his considerable weight, he smashed the door off its hinges so both he and the door landed in a brightly lit large room.

Three men fired at him. One bullet struck his thigh, another his armor, and another sliced through his bristly hair without touching the skull.

Cade killed them with return machine-pistol bursts. He limped toward a torture table underneath blinding lights, with Dr. Halifax strapped prone onto it. Cade’s thigh hurt, but the bullet hadn’t shattered the bone, missing it completely. Digging in his pocket, Cade’s fingers curled around a stim capsule. He popped it into his mouth and bit down, releasing the quick-acting drug cocktail.

From where Halifax lay, he wearily raised his head, his bloodshot eyes showing that he’d had a hard time already. “Cade,” Halifax whispered. Wires were attached to the doctor’s bare torso.

Cade ripped them off, using his boot knife to saw though the man’s bonds. “Can you walk?”

“They broke my feet,” Halifax said, with tear in his eyes.

Cade saw a heavy metal rod and other grisly equipment on a plate like in a dentist’s office.

“I’ll carry you,” the soldier said.

Halifax nodded.

Testing his wounded thigh, feeling little because the stims were already working, Cade hoisted the doctor from the table and settled the slender man over his left shoulder. Then, with the machine pistol in his right fist, the soldier exited the room.

They made it back without incident onto the waiting Descartes. Cade took Halifax to the piloting chamber, setting him on the sensor station seat and securing him with restraints.

“Thanks for coming,” Halifax whispered. “They nabbed me from a massage parlor, the bastards.”

Cade didn’t answer. His thigh hurt, throbbing now. He’d have to extract the bullet and use some quick-heal. They had a bottle of it in the ship. Without quick-heal—Cade shook his head. He had to concentrate. They weren’t out of it yet.

He hobbled to the pilot seat and ran through a swift checklist, lifting off afterward. He aimed the ship upward at the hole in the dome and applied thrust.

***

Sestos was a peaceful system. Ember’s orbital defenses were caught napping. Belatedly, they sent an alert to Sestos III. It took time, but system fighters lifted off from the inner terrestrial world and started for Sestos V.

There were no Patrol ships in the outer system and Kuiper Belt. That was a break for Cade and Halifax. A little luck was always a good thing.

The Descartes raced off the water moon, heading for deep space. Cade nodded to himself. This was going to work. He wiped sweat from his brow, the gunshot wound in his thigh giving him more trouble, making it difficult to think.

At that point, the main comm unit began to beep.

Cade glanced at it before looking at Halifax. The doctor’s head lolled to one side as he snored in exhaustion. The relief of escaping further torture and knowing he’d live must have acted as a mass dose of sleeping pills.

Cade considered a moment and finally flipped on the comm viewer. A huge man with gray skin, black eyes and red-dyed hair spilling to the side stared at him.

“Cade,” Tarragon Down said hoarsely.

The soldier said nothing, just waited. The man was a slug, a taker and a criminal. The soldier carded little for the arms manufacturer now that he wouldn’t be dealing with Tarragon anymore.

“You freed the little prick, did you?”

“Makes us even,” Cade said.

“Even?” Tarragon roared, slamming a huge fist against a desk. “You destroyed one of my armaments factories.”

“You made a mistake trying to cheat us,” Cade said. “You should have delivered as we originally agreed.”

Tarragon leaned toward the viewer, his black eyes glowing with hatred. “My people learned things from your babbling friend. I know you’re heading to Earth to find your missing wife. Did she leave you for another man?”

The soldier kept a stoic face. The arms dealer was a slug, a taker and a criminal. Who cared what he said?

“For what you did to me,” Tarragon said, “I’m going to contact Director Titus and tell him everything.”

Cade felt his gut twist. He hadn’t thought about that. “That would be unwise of you,” he said, knowing it did no good saying it.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Cade thought about turning around. That would be crazy. It was best to say nothing more.

Tarragon glared for a long moment, and then he started to blink. It was an odd performance. The gray-skinned man frowned, cocking his head to the left.

“Forget something?” asked Cade.

The blinking ceased. “No,” Tarragon said in a rote voice. He smiled in a weird way afterward. “You think—” The blinking increased. “No,” Tarragon said, as if speaking to himself, or some unseen person. “I’m not going to say. He screwed with me. No one screws with Tarragon Down and gets away with it.”

“Sure,” Cade said.

Tarragon smiled at him strangely. “You think you’ve won, don’t you? But you don’t understand. I could have squashed you like a bug between my fingers.” The monster of a man raised a hand, pressing his thumb and index fingertips together.

Cade watched, trying to understand the man’s obscure meaning.

“I’m going to get even with you,” Tarragon said.

“You mean you’ll try,” Cade said. “You might lose a lot more than you have already.”

The smile tightened. “You have no idea, you fool—no idea what’s really going on.”

“You’re making empty threats. It’s all you have left.”

“Oh, no, Cade, you’re wrong, so very wrong.” Tarragon chuckled nastily.

His sound and manner grated on Cade. He reached to disconnect, but realized that something was off here. He paused as he studied the arms dealer, wondering if there was anything to the threats.

“I know,” Tarragon whispered. “You want me to spill my guts. You think you can trick me into saying it. But I’m not going to do that. All I can hope is that the two of you kill each other.”

Tarragon cut the connection.

The soldier stared at the blank screen. What had that been about?

Cade turned his attention to his leg. With a grunt and a heave of his shoulders, he propped himself upright. He put the ship on autopilot, activating the Nion XT Navigator. Then, Cade hobbled for the science chamber where he kept the medical supplies. It was time to dig out the bullet and apply some quick-heal.

Chapter Six

A week went by without mishap as the Descartes flew through space. Finally, the scout was far enough away from the huge gravitational forces any star for them to turn on the Intersplit engine. That put a green Intersplit Field around the craft as they began to travel at FTL speeds. The Sestos System fell far behind as they continued the journey to Earth.

As a precaution against anything Tarragon’s people might have done, Cade and Halifax checked everything they could think of. The items replaced and fixed on Ember were in good working order, running smoothly and efficiently. There weren’t any hidden tracking devices installed or other giveaways of deliberate tampering that they could find.

Hours turned into days and days into a week. Did they get sloppy regarding security? They fell into their regular shipboard routine, boredom the greatest threat to their wellbeing.

The two men had learned from bitter experience that it was best to keep apart from each other as the days added up to weeks. Cade exercised, read about this future era and played military video games to pass the time and keep him thinking about tactics. Halifax’s ankles healed thanks to injections of quick-heal. He read, viewed far too much pornography and practiced mathematical puzzles. His mind was his greatest asset—in his not-so-humble opinion—and he was determined to keep it sharp so he could survive the coming dangers that were bound to occur.

Unknown to them, there was one other mind on the ship. Well, mind might have been the wrong word. A unit waited for its chance to perform its function. A mind had given the unit scope and a mission. That mission was fast coming upon the unit.

The Nion XT Navigator had a special built-in feature. The computer inside sensed when it was free of human supervision. That happened as the Descartes sped through a certain area of the Orion Arm.

Obscure calculations occurred in the interior of the Nion XT. Special override codes activated. The Nion rerouted the ship, turning the scout toward the dark and dangerous Vellani Rift.

The dead asteroid miner had traveled that region in his torchship after spending long hours staring into the tiny globe of stars and shifting nebulae. The program he’d written into the Nion XT had been beyond his understanding, but code he most certainly did.

The Descartes went off course, increasing speed. The Nion XT wanted to reach the Vellani Rift before the two humans woke up and entered the piloting chamber. The coded program had a reason for doing this. The Nion XT guided the Descartes even as parts of the special program began to self-delete. There was a reason for that, too, a reason the Nion no longer knew and thus could not give away.

***

Cade raced into the piloting chamber as Halifax switched off the klaxon. The doctor sat at piloting controls, absorbed in something as he flicked and pressed switches.

Cade looked out the polarized window and blanched at what he saw.

“It’s not my fault,” Halifax said.

Cade turned to the doctor.

“As far as I can tell,” Halifax said, “it’s this blasted nav, the Nion XT.”

“What?”

“The Nion XT Navigator,” Halifax said, slapping a gleaming console. “Tarragon’s people installed it, said it was latest thing in auto-piloting. The XT series are supposed to be some of the best around. You remember them telling us, right?”

Cade shook his head.

“Hmm,” Halifax said. “Maybe they only told me.” Once more, he smacked the console. “The XT is supposed to know where we’re going. Well, it does. But I do agree it should have avoided this region, gone around it, you know? Look at the blinking light.” The doctor pointed an accusing finger. “The Nion knows this is a dangerous region of space, but it was too stupid to warn us ahead of time.”

Cade studied the blinking light.

Navigation and piloting were the doctor’s responsibilities. The big man had been asleep. He’d heard the warning klaxon from his cot and had come to investigate the problem. Now, this… Cade turned back to the polarized window.

The cramped piloting chamber had several panels and seats along with a large polarized window. Through it, Cade saw the sheen of the green Intersplit Field that circled the ship. Normally, he would have been able to see the stars through the green haze. Now, he eyed blackness with bizarre purple and red streaks appearing like lightning. Worse, the green field sizzled in places, the sizzles looking like black sparks, indicating that particles of some kind were striking the field.

If the Intersplit field fell or collapsed because of the strange particles, they would automatically stop traveling at FTL speeds.

Halifax made a production of straightening his skinny shoulders and manipulating flight controls, his intense features focused on a panel screen. He threw up his hands a moment later. “I have no idea what’s going on, what’s causing the black sparks. This is unprecedented.”

“You directly used ship instruments to check,” Cade said. “Ask the computer to interpret the signals. That’s partly what the nav is for, right?”

Halifax swiped a lock of dark hair out of his eyes, glanced at Cade sidelong, leaned over and manipulated a different panel. The doctor brightened as he read data. “Ah! That was a good idea. According to the computer, we’ve entered the Vellani Rift.”

“Which is what exactly?” asked Cade.

“Hmm…even though we know where we are now—in a general sense, at least—this doesn’t sound so good.” Halifax had continued reading the computer script. “The rift is full of spatial anomalies. I’m not sure you know what those are. In this instance, that includes wild, unpredictable radiation, intense gravitational distortions, black holes and—this is odd. It says there are spatial and possibly temporal vortices. I don’t like the sound of that.”

“No,” Cade said.

“Oh dear,” Halifax said in a whisper.

“You’d better elaborate on that.”

Halifax looked up with frightened eyes. “The reason for the blinking light. The Nion says the rift contains disruptions to the very fabric of our space-time continuum.”

“What does that mean?”

“That we have to get out of here quick before we’re sucked into a vortex and spit out somewhere else.”

Cade thought a moment, remembering Tarragon’s final threat via comm. Their being in the Vellani Rift couldn’t have anything to do with the threat, could it? The Nion XT Navigator was just a normal piece of equipment. They’d checked it for tampering, and everything had been in diagnostic working order.

Yet…maybe Tarragon had got one past them, undetectably sabotaged the thing’s programming.

“Let’s take over manually,” Cade said. “A vortex sounds bad. We need to leave the rift immediately.”

Halifax hesitated, with his hands hovering over the flight controls. He looked up again. “The, ah, only problem is that because the auto-navigation seems to have malfunctioned, the autopilot isn’t working like it’s supposed to.” The doctor ran his tongue across his lower lip. “I have a possible theory for the malfunction. Because we’re in the rift—a dark region—the Nion lacks any reference points to guide our flight. It can’t see any stars, anything, really, to triangulate our position.”

“No more excuses,” Cade said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Don’t you understand? Normally, I look up a star system’s galactic coordinates. You know, where we want to go. I punch that in and the Nion takes care of the rest. We really have been lucky until now. We need a live navigator for exactly these sorts of events, and ideally we should have a captain as well.”

“I gave you the ship. You’re the captain.”

“I’m talking about a professional captain,” Halifax said. “Concerning space travel, you and I are amateurs, damn good ones, I agree, but amateurs just the same. Hell, we don’t even have an engineer aboard: one who could fix the Intersplit if it ever broke down.”

“Back out the same way we came in,” Cade said.

“What’s that?” Halifax asked, as he examined the piloting controls.

“Reverse course, leaving by the same route we came in.”

“Oh. I see what you’re suggesting. Naturally, that would assume we haven’t altered course while we were both asleep.”

“You were asleep when this happened?” Cade demanded. “That means the Nion likely did warn us, but there was no one here to see or hear it.”

“I feel I must protest, as your implications are grossly unfair. It’s just the two of us, and I’m not a machine. The truth is we need more crewmembers if we’re going to operate the scout efficiently. We know that now and—”

“Never mind about that,” Cade said irritably. He shook his head, trying to shake off his slipping temper and the feeling that Tarragon had something to do with this. Anger wouldn’t help him get out of this. They had to think their way out. “Why do you believe the ship altered course once we entered the rift?”

“Well—”

“Is something wrong with the Nion?”

“Not wrong exactly,” Halifax said. “It’s acting a little weird maybe—”

“Explain that,” Cade snapped.

“Sure, sure,” Halifax said. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. There are certain indications—”

Before the doctor could complete his explanation, the entire ship began shaking. The compartment lights flickered, and a blizzard of black sparks sizzled in the green Intersplit Field. The compartment tilted hard to one side. The doctor grabbed a console, hanging on as he leaned dangerously sideways. Cade stumbled in the same direction, jumped to the side at the last second so he avoided crashing headlong against a stanchion. He clutched a different unit, hanging on, turning his head and watching the sparking green haze outside the ship. Beyond them, everything swirled blackly, madly, perhaps even chaotically.

The shaking continued, becoming more violent. Dr. Halifax moaned in terror. Cade wondered if the ship would shake apart, if they’d entered one of the vortices. If so, it would be a bitter end to a—

Abruptly, the sparking blizzard outside ceased, as did the swirling blackness. The ship stopped shaking and seemed to right itself. That indicated the gravity dampeners were working correctly again.

“What just happened?” Cade asked.

Halifax wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead with the sleeve of his smock. A moment later, he tapped controls, staring at a screen. “A spatial vortex,” he said hoarsely. “I imagine that’s what one would look like.”

Cade leaned over to study the screen. He saw a dark swirling funnel or spatial tornado with purple and red lightning. It was eerie. It receded from them, indicating the ship moved away from it.

“Were we just in that?” Cade asked.

“I think so.”

Cade peered through the polarized window. The darkness around them seemed different than earlier: dark gray instead of stark black, which might be why they could see the vortex. There were still no stars. If he stared long enough, it felt as if he saw tiny purple splotches in place of stars, but it was hard to be certain.

Uneasiness settled upon him. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Then, a sense of unreality turned his stomach. He considered that.

“Doctor, could the vortex have shifted us to a different space-time continuum?”

“Eh?” Halifax asked, looking up from the controls.

“You said the Vellani Rift has space-time distortions. Maybe the vortex threw us into a different one, a different dimension or something equally sinister.”

“I hardly think—”

“Look outside,” Cade demanded.

Halifax did so. “And my doing this helps us how?”

“Has space always been so gray?”

Halifax laughed uneasily. “The power of suggestion, sir, that’s what’s frightening you.”

“Has space always been that gray?” Cade said again.

As Halifax stared out of the window, he grew pale, slowly shaking his head. “If we’re elsewhere, a different dimension or whatever…we’re doomed. It’s over for us, kaput.”

Cade’s gut twisted and his mouth became dry. No! He wouldn’t accept defeat. Whatever it takes—however long—he was going to get to Earth to find his wife and brothers-in-arms. He was going home, as it were. He wouldn’t let himself get lost in a second horrible future or dimension.

“You listen to me, Doctor. If the vortex shifted us here, it simply means we have to figure out how to reverse the process. Do you understand? Tell me you understand.”

Halifax laughed shrilly, his eyes becoming wild. “What did I tell you before? Without the Nion, we can’t even navigate normally. How could we possibly know how to travel through a vortex and reach our own space-time continuum from here?”

“We don’t know where we are,” Cade said stubbornly. “This place appears different from what we’re used to. But maybe that’s not even correct. Maybe the vortex merely altered the polarization of the window. What I’m saying is that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe we’re still sailing blind through the Vellani Rift.”

A green comm-light caught Cade’s attention. That startled him badly. Who could possibly be trying to hail them? Ship-to-ship communication was considered impossible when one of the vessels had an Intersplit Field up. How could one communicate with a least one ship traveling faster than the speed of light? A radio wave could never catch up to the FTL-traveling vessel.

Theories! Who cares about theories? He was a soldier first and refused to let theories or theses hinder his actions when his eyes or ears told him otherwise.

Cade moved to the comm panel, sitting and adjusting controls. A moment later, a garbled, crackling transmission emitted from the speaker.

“I don’t understand this,” Halifax said in a high voice. “Such a thing should be impossible.”

While hunched over, Cade kept adjusting the comm controls.

Halifax glanced at him in astonishment. “This is incredible. I can almost understand what he’s saying,”

Cade kept at it, making further adjustments. The static and distortions continued to fade away.

“The cyborgs are readying—” The voice abruptly cut away.

“Did you hear that?” Halifax asked shrilly. “He was talking about cyborgs. Could that mean we’ve jumped back in time to your era? You have to restore communications. We’ve got to know what’s happening.”

Perspiration dotted Cade’s forehead. Could he go home, get back to his time? It had been a frightful war, but that was what he knew and understood. It was his era, his time, full of friends and—

He manipulated the comm, but he couldn’t pick up the message again, dammit. He rose, thought about it, and went to the sensor scope. He sat and pressed his face against the rubber-lined scope. He made adjustments—a blip appeared in the sensor scope. It could be anything: a ship, an asteroid or even a planet or star. If it was a star, it had to be several light-years away. An Intersplit Field would unravel in the presence of a star’s near gravitational pull.

Cade sat up with his eyes alight. The green Intersplit Field haze still surrounded the Descartes. It was otherwise the strange dark gray outside. There were still no visible stars but possibly tiny deep-purple splotches in lieu of stars. Was this the way home to his time? They needed more data.

He told Halifax about the blip.

“Surely the blip means we’re still in the Vellani Rift,” the doctor said. “I don’t know how to spot a vortex unless we’re on top of one, in one, really. If this is a new space-time continuum—”

“Doctor! Please. Let’s stick to what we can prove. I don’t want to get my hopes up—I mean…”

Halifax hiccupped in the way a small child might after a crying jag, and he spoke fast. “I recant my last statement. This can’t be the Vellani Rift. And I can prove it. Item: all the storms have ceased. Item: dark matter or particles are no longer pelting the Intersplit Field. Item: space has become gray instead of black. Conclusion: we’re no longer where we were just a few minutes ago.”

Cade closed his eyes. He’d heard someone speaking about cyborgs. Did that mean he’d traveled back in time? Or was he wanting to go home so badly that would take anything and twist it to suit his desires? That was not how a soldier thought. A soldier faced the truth no matter how harsh.

“Doctor, hysterics aren’t going to help us. I-I have an appointment with Director Titus. That is the key thing to remember. Thus, we will do what we must to reach Earth. That means exiting the Vellani Rift. You’re a scientist after a fashion. Use your head and start coming up with theories for leaving this place.”

Halifax stared at him as if startled by the soldier’s words “Your trouble, Cade,” he said at last, “is that you lack imagination. You don’t understand what a different space-time continuum means.” The doctor shot up a hand, moving it sideways. “We’re off course. Way off. Do you understand that?”

“I know conjecture when I hear it,” Cade said stubbornly. He was a soldier. Facts came first.

“Oh, you do, do you? Then, answer me this, soldier-boy. Why did the person on the comm speak about cyborgs as if cyborgs were about to do something nasty? And, how did anyone talk to us while we’re traveling faster than light?”

Despite his resolve to stay calm, Cade grew uneasy again. Was this a different dimension, a different time? Over a thousand years ago, he’d fought cyborg troopers. It had always been a hellish experience. Was the blip on the sensor scope under attack by cyborgs? If so, he might well find more Ultras there.

“We’re changing course for the blip,” Cade said.

“Oh no,” Halifax said, shaking his head. “I’m not heading for that place.”

“We’re trapped in the rift. You’ve said so yourself, Doctor. That means we do what we must to get back on course. Unless you have an alternative plan, that is. I’m open to suggestions.”

“This is my ship, Cade. I earned it fair and square.”

“I don’t dispute that. What’s your alternative to my plan?”

“I’m the captain. I do what I want.”

“If it pleases the captain, it’s time to head for the blip.”

“I already told you, it doesn’t please me.”

Cade stared fixedly at the doctor. Hope and something else nibbled at the edge of his mind. Could that something else be fear? This isn’t a different dimension, because if it is, I might never reach Earth and see if Raina is there. Yet…Tarragon had known something bad would happen to them. This can’t possibly be it. But if it is…

“Recheck the Nion,” Cade said.

“For what purpose?”

“It sent us here. We need to know why.”

Halifax’s eyes widened with astonishment. “You’re giving the Nion too much credit, as if it had the intelligence to do something to spite us.”

Cade scowled. The nibble of fear in his mind—he needed to do something so he wouldn’t have time to worry about the growing possibility that they were somewhere other than normal time and space.

Halifax worried his lower lip and peered out of the polarized window. He shivered, saying quietly, “This can’t be a different space-time continuum. That’s madness. Do you realize how much energy such a transference would take?”

Cade shook his head, as he had no idea.

Halifax closed his eyes and moaned softly. “I hate this. I really, really hate this. I knew I should have left you on Avalon IV. I knew doing a good deed would mean evil would bite me in the ass. You’re going to get me killed.” Halifax opened his eyes to stare accusingly at the soldier. “Have pity on me, Cade.”

“Tell me what else we can do.”

“Dammit it all to hell,” Halifax said with heat. “We’re lost in a gray universe. We’ll run out of deuterium before we figure this out. Very well, if you want me to die, go ahead and punch in the coordinates on the nav. I’ll do the rest.”

Cade pointed at the Nion XT.

Halifax leaned toward the Nion’s screen, sharply looking up at Cade afterward. “You smug bastard. You think you know me? You already punched in the sensor’s coordinates to the blip.”

Cade said nothing.

Muttering under his breath, Halifax manipulated the flight controls. The Descartes shifted direction, heading for the blip Cade had seen in the sensor scope.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Halifax complained. “I hope we’re not heading straight into the maw of a cyborg chop-shop.” When Cade did not reply, the doctor added, “I hope we can leave the rift, or wherever this is, some day.”

“Agreed,” Cade said. Get the facts. A soldier faces the truth, makes a choice and acts. “Before we can leave, we have to know what this place is. Now, let’s get ready. I’ll begin by double-checking the ship’s armaments.”

Cade hurried for the chamber’s exit.

Chapter Seven

Several hours later, Cade returned to the piloting compartment to find Dr. Halifax slumped over the flight controls, fast asleep.

If this were Battle Unit 175, the Commandant would have the doctor shot for dereliction of duty. Should he punch or slap the man, teach him a lesson?

Cade stepped near, raising a hand, but hesitated and lowered the it again. Halifax wasn’t an Ultra, but a luxury-loving case officer, a former mercenary for Earth Intelligence. The test of this must have psychologically exhausted the doctor. Strict procedures weren’t as important as winning through. A good soldier used the right tool in the right place, and he kept the tool in good repair. If Halifax was exhausted—

Cade scowled, tired of thinking about it and making excuses for the man. He turned to the polarized window. It was still dark gray outside… Wait. He squinted, seeing a point of gray minimally less dark than the surrounding space.

He stepped to the sensor scope, sitting and peering into it, manipulating the controls. This was interesting. The point of lighter gray pulsed rhythmically. Could it be a neutron star spinning incredibly fast? Just how far was it from them?

Cade adjusted the scope. According to the readings, it was several light-years away.

He glanced up at the sleeping Halifax, wondering if he should wake and tell the man. Nah. This could wait. Besides, he needed more information.

Through the scope, Cade continued to study the pulsating gray blip, but could glean no further information. He examined the surrounding territory, which was still darker gray.

A knot formed in his gut, as it occurred to him that there were more possibilities than other dimensions or times. Maybe we’re dead. Maybe we crashed and this is the afterlife.

Cade thought that through. If he were dead, would he still be in the ship with the doctor? Wouldn’t there be hellfire roasting him on one hand or angels singing on the other, depending on where he went?

He sat up and rapped a control panel. It felt real to his knuckles. It sounded real to his ears. He laughed nervously.

“I’m alive,” he whispered. He considered that, nodded, sat back and smiled because he was still alive and allowing himself to indulge in superstitious notions. Get to work, Cade. Don’t be like the doctor and collapse because you’re mentally tired.

He concentrated, considered options and went to the comm panel. He tested frequencies, searching for a signal. It should be impossible to contact anyone while traveling faster than light, but he’d done it earlier. He went up and down—

“Are you out there?” a man asked. “Come in. Come in, if you can hear me.”

Cade’s heart rate increased as his mouth dried out. Had an angel or devil contacted him? He clicked a switch. “Hello?” he said into a microphone.

“Who is this?” a man asked.

“Who is this?” Cade asked in return, staring to fear the answer.

“I’m Captain Graven Tarvoke of the Free Trader Cyprian.”

Okay, I’m not dead. Then it struck Cade what had just happened. The Descartes was traveling faster than light. How, then, could it send and receive radio signals? He had no theories as to how— Cade shook his head sharply. It doesn’t matter how. Just concentrate on what is.

As calmly as he could, he pressed the transmit switch.

“Where are you?”

“No, no,” Tarvoke said. “I answered your question. Now, you answer mine. In that way, we maintain proper etiquette and balance.”

The soldier raised his eyebrows. This was Dr. Halifax-type talking. “This is Marcus Cade…” He hesitated, deciding to say less rather than more. “I’m a passenger aboard a private vessel.”

“You entered the rift then?” Tarvoke asked.

From the flight panel, Dr. Halifax snorted and raised a sleepy red face. It took a moment before he peered in alarm at Cade and then at the comm.

“Yes!” Cade said, speaking into the microphone, with hope welling up in him. “We’re in the rift—if you mean the Vellani Rift.”

“Yes, yes,” Tarvoke said. “What other rift could I mean?”

Cade did not reply, as he didn’t know what to say to that.

“I can’t get a fix on your vessel,” Tarvoke said. “You haven’t broken through the barrier yet then, I take it.”

“What barrier?” Cade asked as he traded glanced with a shrugging Halifax.

“This is simply too much,” Tarvoke said. “It pains me to admit that it feels as if you’re attempting to take advantage of me. I spoke about balance, meaning the law of reciprocity. I ask a question. You answer. You ask a question. I answer. Instead, you appear to be avoiding answering and attempting to stack up as many answers from me as you can.”

“What are you afraid of that you’re so distrustful of us?” asked Cade.

“That’s a rude question, sir. I spoke about the law of reciprocity and you assume I’m a rogue?”

Halifax jumped up, moving to the sensor scope, peering in it, making adjustments. He looked up and shook his head, no doubt indicating that he couldn’t spot the other ship.

“I can’t answer your question about the barrier if I don’t know what it is,” Cade said into the microphone.

“Oh. You have a point there,” Tarvoke said grudgingly. “Do you see…well, I call it a pulsating gray disc?”

“I see it,” Cade said.

“That’s the barrier. You’re outside…the system,” Tarvoke said, appearing to change what he’d planned to say. “To reach us, you’ll have to break through the barrier to enter the pulsating gray light, if you will.”

Halifax motioned to Cade.

“Just a moment, Captain,” Cade said.

“Don’t break the connection,” Tarvoke warned. “It’s amazing your signals are reaching us. You might not be able to do it again if you cut the connection.”

Halifax gestured more urgently.

“I’m muting you,” Cade said, pressing a switch.

“No—” Tarvoke said, but that was it. He’d been muted.

“Problem?” asked Cade.

“There are several,” Halifax said. “Firstly, we shouldn’t be able to communicate with him.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“My point is that our being able to communicate with Tarvoke is unnatural.”

“Does that mean it’s supernatural?”

Halifax shook his head. “You didn’t let me finish. It’s unnatural for our—realm, space-time continuum, whatever you want to call it. That means we have definitely shifted elsewhere.”

“He spoke about the Vellani Rift, though,” Cade said.

“That would indicate he came through the same way we did.”

“Oh,” Cade said. “Yes. I suppose that makes sense.”

“I know it does,” Halifax said. “The second point is that this Tarvoke is obviously trying to trick us in some fashion. Can’t you hear it in his voice?”

“I admit he’s clearly distrustful of us.”

“The likely reason is that he fears we’ll do to him what he plans to do to us.”

“Spoken like a true case officer,” Cade said. “So where do you think we are?”

“We’ve been through all that.”

“Doctor, we need to be precise and logical if we’re ever going to get back to our…realm. The computer said we’d entered the Vellani Rift. While there, we went through a vortex. It’s possible the vortex shifted us elsewhere. My question is where is here? Tarvoke said we’re still in the Vellani Rift, but I no longer believe him. Does that mean you’re right about how he came here? Or are there many Vellani Rifts in many different realities or dimensions?”

“Cade, listen to me—”

“Strange events are taking place,” the soldier said stubbornly, refusing to let Halifax deter him. “I’m not a scientist nor do I pretend to be. I’m a soldier. The rift—the Nion said space-time distortions occur in the Vellani Rift. Bring that up on the nav. I want to read the exact warning.”

“In your opinion, where is here?”

Cade frowned thoughtfully. “The gray universe seems more… I’m not sure how to say it. That we can communicate while using the Intersplit causes me to wonder if we’re outside of space time completely.”

“What? Why, that’s an incredible statement. That would mean—no, don’t unmute.”

Cade had almost forgotten about Tarvoke. He ignored the doctor as he pressed a switch. “Hello, Captain Tarvoke, are you still there?”

“Of course,” the man said.

“Did you come from—?”

Halifax waved wildly, shaking his head.

“Did I what?” asked Tarvoke.

“What star system are you in?” Cade said.

“That wasn’t your original question,” Tarvoke said.

“Never mind,” Cade said. “What star system are you in?”

“It’s interesting you should realize that,” Tarvoke said. “Perhaps you haven’t been completely honest with me.”

Cade thought about what he’d asked. Tarvoke had talked about a system earlier. He should concentrate on that. Behind the barrier was a star system. If true…he wasn’t sure if that was interesting and heartening or even more frightening. He had an appointment with Director Titus and a possible date with his wife.

“In the interest of our mutual benefit, I’ll oblige you this once,” Tarvoke said. “This is the Corvine System, an unusual area of the galaxy, to be sure. It’s rich in some rather rare substances. I imagine that’s why you came.”

“What substances?” Cade asked.

“Now, now,” Tarvoke said. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to defraud me regarding the law of reciprocity. We went over that. This…this is something else, isn’t it? Hmm… I’m beginning to wonder if you’re here for a different reason. You aren’t lost perhaps, are you?”

“Ah-ha,” Halifax said softly, perhaps so Tarvoke wouldn’t overhear. The doctor had been and was still peering in the sensor scope. “I’ve traced his transmission. He’s definitely in or just outside the pulsating gray light.”

“What was that I heard?” Tarvoke asked. “Is someone else with you, Cade?”

“You spoke about cyborgs before,” Cade said into the microphone.

Halifax looked up sharply and shook his head, pleading with his eyes for Cade to say no more.

Tarvoke seemed to have fallen silent at the question.

“Are you still there, Captain?” asked Cade.

“You’re a Scavenger, aren’t you?” Tarvoke said bitterly. “You’ve been on Coad before. You’ve clearly spoken to the Eagle-Dukes. Which one put you up to this? I hope you haven’t dealt with that vulgar Lord Magnus.”

“Why do you ask such things?”

This time, Tarvoke laughed bitterly. “You take me for a fool, is that it? I understand now. You’re attempting to ambush me. No, no, Cade—passenger of a supposedly private vessel—you made a mistake mentioning the cyborgs. Now, I know your game. I have a fix on your vessel, and I’m launching missiles as we speak.”

Halifax squeaked in alarm, staring into the sensor scope. “I see two pin-dot flares of light. What have you done, Cade? You’ve ruined us. Why can’t you—”

“Who is that?” Tarvoke demanded. “I swear I recognize the voice.”

Halifax froze in horror, then looked up and blinked at Cade, blinking faster and faster.

Cade muted the comm. “Do you recognize Tarvoke’s voice?”

“What?” Halifax shouted. “No! How could I? The idea is preposterous.”

“Graven Tarvoke of the Free Trader Cyprian?” Cade asked.

“Don’t you realize how ridiculous your question is? The odds of Tarvoke knowing me or vice versa, why, it’s astronomical. And I don’t mean that as a pun, as I detest puns.”

“There’s an old saying: ‘Methinks you protest too much’.”

“Bah!” Halifax said as he adjusted his coat. “We’re adrift in a weird place after passing through a vortex in the Vellani Rift. I’ve never heard about a free trader, about a man named Graven Tarvoke. This conversation is insane.”

“Hardly that,” Cade said. “The fact he might know you would be highly improbable, next to impossible, but not even close to insane.”

“Whatever,” Halifax sniffed. “Let’s stick to probabilities. There are mysteries here. We agree on that, as we heard someone talk about cyborgs. Clearly, that we did angered this Tarvoke.” Furrow lines appeared on the doctor’s high forehead. He maintained the pose for several seconds. Then, he exhaled, shaking his head. “This is beyond my understanding. I suggest we break communications and head for the pulsating gray light, the barrier Tarvoke spoke about earlier. We need more information before we can understand what’s transpiring in this place.”

“And the missiles?” Cade asked.

“Damn,” Halifax said. “I’d forgotten about the missiles. We have anti-missile rockets, but it would be foolish to rely on them if we don’t have to. Could you talk Tarvoke into destroying the missiles?”

Cade unmuted the communications. “Captain Tarvoke, you’ve jumped to conclusions about us. Earlier, we heard a man broadcasting about cyborgs—”

“You can forget it, Cade,” Tarvoke said. “The game is up. The missiles will take you out of the running. Frankly, I have enough competition as it is. You should have stayed on Coad, refused the Eagle-Duke that talked you into this risky endeavor. I don’t know how you made it past—forget about that. The Eagle-Duke must have made grand promises, I’m sure, and I suppose you thought he would keep them. The way they pontificate about honor makes a person think they’ll keep their word. But do you want to know the truth? Dead men lack all honor.”

“Do you realize that none of what you said makes any sense to me?” Cade asked.

“I’ll say this: you have an honest sounding voice.” Something about that caused Tarvoke to begin laughing, doing so harder and harder. Soon, the man wheezed and started coughing, falling into a giggling fit.

“Who are you?” Halifax shouted into the microphone.

Tarvoke started laughing again, but he couldn’t contain it, as he started coughing more than ever, finally making rasping noises.

Cade pressed a switch, cutting off communications. He hated dealing with lunatics. He stared outside the polarized window with the green haze around the ship. With the naked eye, he only saw the gray universe.

An idea sprouted. It was a preposterous idea, but if he was right—

Cade stood, moving to piloting. He dropped the Intersplit Field. They dropped out of FTL travel. He stepped to weapons control. One hand hovered over the controls until he tapped a panel. An object whooshed into view, tumbling away from the scout into the darkness.

“What was that?” Halifax asked. “What are you up to?”

Cade held up an admonitory finger. He studied the panel and tapped a control.

A bright flare of light appeared where the tumbling object had disappeared into the gray.

“Now, Doctor,” Cade said, “it’s time for silent running.”

“Why?”

“If I’m right, we’ve just saved ourselves two anti-missile rockets.”

Silent running meant keeping the Intersplit Field off. The green haze no longer surrounded and protected the vessel. The ship no longer flew faster than light, but continued at less than one percent light-speed. They also shut down all energizing systems, making the Descartes as dark and cold an object as possible. They were like an old-style submarine trying to hide from enemy sonar.

“This is lunacy,” Halifax said from the pilot’s seat some time later. “The Descartes appears to be nearing the pulsating gray light at the same rate as earlier.”

“The same as when we used the Intersplit Field?”

“Precisely.”

“What accounts for such a thing?” Cade asked.

“More to the point, how did you know that would be the case?” Halifax said.

“Me?”

“You dropped the field.”

“Yes, to launch a decoy-beacon.”

“That doesn’t make sense. The missiles don’t use Intersplit Fields. In normal space, it would have taken them months to reach us. Somehow, you knew they would come on fast without a field.”

Cade sat perplexed. That was an interesting point. He did not have an equally interesting answer. He shrugged. He didn’t know what to say other than he had excellent combat instincts, but that might sound like bragging, which he detested as unsoldierly.

Halifax tapped his chin as he peered out of the polarized window. “Let’s stick to the main and critical point. We now know without a doubt that we’re somewhere else than our universe, our space-time continuum, our dimension. We know that because we’re obviously traveling through a non-Einsteinian medium.”

Cade exhaled explosively. This was making his head hurt and making him angry.

“This is not normal space as we know it,” Halifax added.

Cade stared at the doctor, realizing the man was acting soldierly, more so than he was right now. The doctor was squarely facing facts. He could do that too.

“The vortex shifted us,” Cade said.

“Yes. That’s the only logical deduction,” Halifax agreed. “There is another indicator that proves the thesis.”

“Our comm transmissions to Tarvoke,” Cade said.

“For two reasons,” Halifax said. “One, we spoke while we used the Intersplit Field. Two, our transmissions traveled faster than light to reach him—if the scout’s instruments correctly assessed the distance to the pulsating gray light, the barrier and us. There is a third point. We spotted launched missiles many light-years away as Tarvoke launched them. That clearly goes against the laws of physics as we understand them. Thus, we are in a place with different physics.”

“How close are the missiles?”

Halifax checked the scope. “This clinches it. The missiles have crossed several light-years in the span of hours. Given their velocity in this medium, I estimate nine minutes to impact.” Once more, the doctor studied the scope. “The deviation in their flight path is slight,” he said with a tremor in his voice, “but it appears the missiles have zeroed in on the decoy instead of us.” He looked up with perspiration on his face. “Well done, Cade. Your deception—our silent running—is going to work.”

“Your stoicism is heartening, Doctor. I congratulate you.”

“It’s a ruse against myself,” Halifax said. “I think this realm is so weird, so crazy—” He shrugged. “I tell myself nothing is quite real, so why in the hell worry about it, right?”

“Whatever works,” Cade muttered.

After that, they waited the remaining minutes in silence, Cade at the weapons board, Halifax at sensors. At the end of the time, two sharp explosions outside—bright lights—indicated double detonations near the decoy.

“Go,” Cade said.

Halifax jumped to the pilot seat, reenergized the Intersplit Field, applying thrust, heading for the pulsating gray barrier. The diminished blast, EMP and radiation from the warheads—due to distance—struck the green field, which protected the ship from damage. The field would not have been able to do so if the explosions had occurred much closer, though.

Soon, Cade indicated that Halifax drop the field, as that should make it harder for Tarvoke to spot the ship again. The doctor did so, and the Descartes continued to head for the so-called barrier.

Halifax made a loud noise and shook his head, saying, “I’ve tried to think of a theory or logical explanation for this medium working as it does. But I’m ready to admit that I’m confounded by all of this. It makes no sense. Please tell me that you can account for it?”

“I can’t.”

“I was afraid of that. In truth, there’s a sense of unreality to all this.”

“The missiles were real enough.”

“You’re not concerned then that we’ve left regular time and space?”

A pang struck Cade, but he stuffed it down. Raina, I’m going to keep my promise to you. “Worry never solved anything, Doctor. We must deal with facts, with the situation as it is. I admit I’ve already assumed that Tarvoke has the answer to leaving this realm. It’s why we need to reach the barrier, reach him.”

“And kidnap Tarvoke?”

“Capture,” Cade said. “Afterward, we’ll convince him it’s in his best interest to help us get back…”

“Home?”

“That works for me,” Cade muttered.

“I know you don’t like it that we left our space-time continuum. You probably think it’s my fault because I fell asleep when I shouldn’t have.”

Cade made a fist as he nodded.

“Screw you, Cade! You haven’t been through what I went through. Besides, I now think the Nion has something to do with our plight.”

“No need to get excited, Doctor. We have the situation we have and must deal straightforwardly with it. Obviously, the Nion took us into the rift. Why did it do that? So far, we don’t have a logical explanation, although Tarragon told me something bad would happen to us. Was that his plan? Whatever the case, undoubtedly I’ll need your expertise to get us back on course. Yes. You’re responsible in part, as piloting is one of your chief duties. That doesn’t alter our partnership, though.”

“What if Tarvoke can’t help us get home?”

Cade shrugged. He would destroy everything in that case in a fit of battle fury so he could join his brothers-in-arms in Valhalla.

“Will you give up?” Halifax asked.

Cade stared at the doctor.

“No, I suppose you won’t,” Halifax said. “You’re a super-soldier. You never quit. Nothing can tire you.”

“Determination is often the difference between defeat and victory. Now, Doctor, let’s stagger the watch. I’ll remain here for the first two hours. Go ahead and grab some shuteye while you can, and then you can take the next two hours. I don’t want you falling asleep at the controls again.”

Halifax looked as if he was going to add a comment. Instead, he nodded, rising, heading for the exit.

Cade sat at the piloting seat. They’d survived the missiles. Could they breach the barrier? Could they reach it and capture Tarvoke?

The soldier grunted, determined to find out.

Chapter Eight

Cade’s two-hour stint neared its end. The barrier had grown considerably in that time. It was the same pulsating gray, but now it stretched from one end of the horizon to the other—in relation to the Descartes that is. The barrier was definitely a brighter gray than the surrounding space.

The soldier studied it through the scope. He could determine nothing extra, not the substance of the barrier or what lay beyond it. He looked up through the polarized window. There was no green haze, no Intersplit Field. The gray barrier pulsated, a mystery.

“Ahhh…” Dr. Halifax said.

Cade glanced at the doctor outlined by the open hatch. The small man had clearly woken up and had come for his shift. He stared through the polarized window as if transfixed.

“We’re here,” Halifax said. “This…this is astounding. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“I can’t decide whether it’s wiser to deploy the Intersplit Field or cross the barrier without it,” Cade said, ignoring the question.

Halifax headed to piloting, taking the seat there. “This is frightening. I mean, we entered the rift, went through a vortex—a possible portal to elsewhere—and now we’re going to plow through some kind of weird barrier. Will this lead to yet another dimension, or whatever has been happening to us?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Isn’t it interesting that Tarvoke spoke our language? That we understood him?”

“Oh,” Halifax said. “Yes, you’re quite right. I should have already noticed that.”

“Tarvoke also said the Corvine System contained rare substances. He suggested others are attempting to acquire them too. Logically, the Corvine System lies on the other side of the barrier. Given the same language as us, competition for rare substances, I’ve begun to wonder if Tarvoke frequently visits the Corvine System. He’s the captain of a free trader. Apparently, he makes his living from the profit of trading. That would imply he comes and goes from our universe to here, and that would mean there’s a way back for us.”

“Those are all excellent points.” Halifax rubbed his hands as he began to smile. “Maybe instead of indulging in fear or terror, we should be readying for profit ourselves. It costs money running a ship. It will cost more to hire a navigator and captain. This could be our chance to score big. I wonder what rare substances Tarvoke trades in.”

“It could be anything,” Cade said.

“Are you strapped in?” Halifax asked. “Crossing the barrier might be rough. And now that I think about it, yes, let’s deploy the Intersplit Field.”

“What if crossing the barrier short-circuits the field, harming the engine?”

“What if elephants fly? It’s prudent to deploy the field, as it acts as a shield against radiation and other harmful energies.”

Cade nodded. “Sound reasoning. Yes, deploy the field.”

“I’m doing so because I’m the captain,” Halifax said, as he manipulated controls. “I have independently decided to do so.”

Cade said nothing. It wasn’t that big a deal.

In a moment, the green energy field circled the scout. Minutes ticked by as the ship approached closer and closer, Halifax piloting and Cade at sensors. Cade studied the barrier that sizzled or glowed. The ship flew into the barrier, into gray diffuse light. A whine sounded. The green energy field flickered and the Descartes moved faster. Was the barrier sucking them in? The vessel shook, but not nearly as much as when passing through the vortex. Then, they emerged onto the other side.

“Cade,” the doctor whispered.

Cade looked up from the sensor scope and through the window. He saw black space instead of gray and a distant point of light, starlight.

Halifax laughed with glee. “Normality. I can feel it. We’re back in normal space. What a relief.”

Cade studied the black distance. It took him a moment before he understood what troubled him. “There’s only one star.”

“Well, that’s better than none.”

Cade grunted an affirmative. Then, he pressed his face against the rubber lining of the scope. He made adjustments, scanning—

“I see planets,” the soldier said.

“Hallelujah!”

Cade glanced up. The doctor beamed with delight. It hadn’t been a sarcastic comment. Cade went back to surveying the star system. In time, he said:

“There appear to be dwarf planets, comets and other debris in an Oort cloud as normally found in other star systems. I count…four gas giants of varying size in the outer system. There’s an Asteroid Belt next and two terrestrial planets in the inner system near the star. The second terrestrial planet has a heavy atmosphere and greenery, indicating vegetation.”

“That must be Coad, where the Eagle-Dukes live,” Halifax said. “Do you see any spacecraft, any indication of cyborgs?”

“Not yet,” Cade said. “But unless a ship is traveling, emitting exhaust, I wouldn’t think to spy it easily from out here. A ship is a speck compared to a planet.”

“Yes, yes, I quite understand. Still, the highest priority should be finding cyborgs.”

“Believe me, I’m looking. There are none so far.”

“How about a background barrier?” asked Halifax. “Can you sense the barrier we came through?”

Cade zeroed in on that. “Yes. It’s gray, but a darker gray than I remember.”

“Maybe it was lighter gray before due to the starlight shining through it.”

“I estimate the system to be two light-years in diameter with the star in the center. That could be the extent of this…would we call it a universe?”

“Interesting,” Halifax said. “Perhaps pocket universe would be the better description.”

“How is this possible?”

“Believe me, I have no idea,” Halifax said. “We have the Intersplit on. Perhaps we should turn it off and take a second look around?”

“No. Let’s get as close as we can to the star before we do that. In the meantime, I’ll continue scanning.”

“What kind of star is it?” Halifax asked.

“G-class, similar to Earth’s Sun. The second planet is almost at the precise location of Earth to the Sun.”

“Is that coincidence or manufactured?” Halifax said.

Cade looked up. “Who could manufacture such a thing?”

“The same people who can build a pocket universe.”

“That…would indicate vastly higher technology than we understand and a much greater expenditure of energy.”

“Granted,” Halifax said. “Perhaps we’ve stumbled onto the reason why Captain Tarvoke originally came here.”

Time passed as the scout flew at FTL speeds through the Oort cloud, closing in on the system’s Kuiper Belt. They could travel for another ten minutes at this speed before the star’s gravitational pull would begin interfering with the Intersplit Field and faster-than-light travel.

“I see something else,” Cade said from the sensor scope. “It’s huge. I’m surprised I didn’t notice it earlier—damn.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Let me double check this.”

“Cyborgs, Cade. Have you spotted the cyborgs?”

“Let me double check,” Cade said again, sounding annoyed.

He peered through the scope, making minute adjustments. The targeted vessel was oval, huge, perhaps one quarter the size of Earth’s Moon. It looked exactly like a cyborg mobile base. During The War, Cyborg GHQ moved mobile bases into position when they planned to occupy a planet. The mobile base would rain cyborg troopers onto the surface, usually meaning the death or conversion of everyone on the planet. This mobile base was in orbit around the gas giant nearest the Asteroid Belt, a Saturn-like planet with rings. Had the mobile base deployed deuterium floaters into the gas giant’s upper atmosphere to collect fuel?

Wait a minute, what was this?

Cade made further adjustments. A sense of relief flooded through him as he spied a massive hull breach in the mobile unit. Particles streamed from the breach—not a river of particles, but enough so the sensor scope noticed it from this distance.

Had the mobile base taken a recent hit, a massed missile strike, perhaps? Could it be an old hull breach? Where did the interior particles come from then? Wouldn’t they have all poured out in a few minutes from the initial breach?

Cade went to maximum zoom as he searched for cyborg guard vessels, for floating cyborg parts. He kept at it until the mobile base drifted over the gas giant’s horizon, taking it out of direct line of sight.

“Cade, I’m going to have to drop the field,” Halifax said.

The soldier looked up from the scope. He nodded before resuming his sensor scan.

Halifax switched off the Intersplit Field. The scout dropped out of FTL travel, soon moving at point zero one light-speed, a crawl compared to a second ago, although relatively fast in system terms.

“Unless you think otherwise,” Halifax said, “I’ll aim us for the second planet.”

Cade continued scanning.

“Does that work for you?” Halifax asked.

“I said nothing, so it does,” Cade said.

“That’s a piss-poor way to communicate at a time like this.”

Cade looked up, surprised. “You said—forget it.” He went back to scanning, reminding himself yet again that Halifax wasn’t a soldier.

As the hour passed, he focused on the second planet: the terrestrial world with a heavy atmosphere. It was far away for the scope. This was interesting. He picked up traces of radiation indicating nuclear power. Was that from the planet or from spaceships around the planet? He was still too far out to tell.

“Say, Cade, I’ve been thinking.”

The soldier looked up, and he tweaked a neck muscle doing so. He’d been bent over the scope for hours. He massaged his neck. Maybe it was time to eat or get some rest.

“Are you listening to me?” Halifax asked.

Cade nodded.

“Where was Tarvoke when he sent us the message?”

Cade shrugged. Who cared?

“No, this matters,” Halifax said. “It will tell us more about this…realm.”

Cade raised his eyebrows, interested.

“The star system strikes me as normal space,” Halifax said.

“Agreed.”

“But that’s weird,” Halifax said. “How can the star system be normal when it’s all alone behind a gray barrier, sitting within a gray non-Einsteinian realm or dimension?”

“I have no idea,” Cade said. “You called it a pocket universe, suggesting someone or some group made it this way.”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear. It seems as if the laws of physics work normally inside the pocket universe. Or what we would think of as normality. Outside the barrier, the laws were different, bizarre. Messages and missiles traveled faster than they should.”

“And you want to know where Tarvoke was when he sent us the message?”

“Exactly,” Halifax said, pointing and snapping his fingers. “Tarvoke couldn’t have been deep in this star system when he did it. The laws work normally here, and a message would take time traveling through an Oort cloud, days in fact. Yet, we spoke back and forth, indicating nearness on his part.”

“Tarvoke would have had to been near the edge or outside the barrier,” Cade said.

“That’s what I think.”

“So…?”

“So, where is Tarvoke now? Did he watch us enter the barrier and then come through in his ship? If so, where is his vessel?”

“I’ll start scanning behind us.” Cade put his face back to the scope. The neck muscle spasmed again. He grimaced, rubbing his neck. Then he pulled his face from the scope and rubbed his eyes.

“Feeling tired?” Halifax asked.

Cade shrugged.

“If you’re tired, get some sleep. We should be as sharp as possible, right? I can scan for trouble.”

Cade studied the man. He did feel tired, and a nap would help. Still, there was a possible problem—

“Don’t you think I can do it?” Halifax asked.

“It’s not that,” Cade said, yawning.

“I’ll watch the shop while you take a nap.”

Cade stood up. Despite his superior physique, the tension of all this had taken a toll. Halifax could check and call him if he found something troubling. He stumbled through the short corridor to his cabin, entering and slumping onto his cot. He rolled onto his back, kicking off his boots. He closed his eyes and felt glorious sleep claim him. It felt good—

A baring klaxon woke him some time later. He sat up, instantly alert, not half asleep like a normal man would have been. Jumping up, slipping on his boots, he ran into the piloting compartment.

“What’s the problem?”

Halifax looked up groggily from the piloting seat. His eyes were red rimmed.

Cade realized the doctor had fallen asleep at the controls yet again. This time, I should give him a beating. I trusted him. He said he’d check. Cade clenched his hands, making fists, really considering it.

“Missiles,” Halifax said a moment later, as he checked a console. “They caught me by surprise, coming from around the nearest gas giant. They’re coming on fast, Cade. We can’t use the Intersplit because we’re too deep in system to energize it.”

“Right,” Cade said. What was done was done. He’d have to teach the doctor discipline later. The soldier’s blood coursed through his veins as he took his seat at the sensor scope. He peered at the missiles and with a shock, realized he recognized them from The War: two big Raptor 5000s. They were cyborg-manufactured missiles, of course, huge, full of fuel and barreling in boldly, daring the target to defend itself. In this case, it was the ex-scout. The Raptors would have thermonuclear warheads, more than 200 megatons each. The two missiles were also staggered. He would have to take out each one separately if they were to survive.

“What do we do?” Halifax shouted.

“First, you must stay calm, Doctor. I’m here. I’m going to take care of it.”

“Yes, yes, but how?”

“I can’t think if you’re shouting hysterically like a schoolgirl.”

Halifax squeezed his eyes closed. Cade was startled to see tears leaking from the man’s eyes. The doctor opened his eyes and wiped at them savagely.

Cade went back to studying the missiles on the scope. What could he learn from this? The missiles came from the nearest gas giant, the Saturn-like planet. The missiles burned hot, their exhaust suggesting deuterium fuel. He would bet a year’s pay the cyborgs had deployed floaters in the gas giant’s upper atmosphere to scoop up deuterium particles. That was standard mobile base operating procedure around a gas giant.

Cade blinked in surprise as the missiles shimmered. He looked again, but there was no shimmering now. Had his eyes watered for a second?

He sat up and replayed what he’d just seen. Sure enough, the missiles had shimmered.

“Something?” asked Halifax.

“Give me a second,” Cade said.

He tried several things before finally sitting back perplexed. He told Halifax about the shimmering. They traded suggestions. Finally, Halifax asked if there was a field of some sort that the missiles might have passed through to cause the shimmering.

“What kind of field?” asked Cade.

“A planetary force field maybe,” Halifax said.

Cade shook his head. “The missiles are already farther out than anything like that.”

“You’ve seen planetary force fields before?”

“Planetary screens,” Cade said. “That was long ago.”

“That’s amazing. I would have liked to have seen something like that.”

“It’s not what you think. But that’s neither here nor there. I looked for a field or energy projection. I couldn’t spot one. Why did the missiles shimmer?”

Through the scope, Cade studied the gas giant and its surroundings for twenty minutes. He didn’t locate any kind of field. He went back to studying the approaching missiles. There was something odd about them now. He couldn’t pinpoint it, though.

The Descartes had already reached the outer edge of the Asteroid Belt. The scout was over three hundred million kilometers from the missiles. Such attacks took time to reach the target. Even in a star system, space was vast compared to planets, even gas giants.

As Cade watched the missiles through the scope, he witnessed the most astounding thing. Two green beams simply appeared. The beams reached out, each one striking a Raptor 5000. Seconds later, each missile began rotating. This was not a spin, but each missile rotating so each exhaust port instead of the nosecone aimed in the direction of travel. Then, abruptly, each missile expelled thrust, the deuterium-fuel tails growing longer and longer as the two missiles decelerated.

Cade told Halifax about the development.

“Beams can’t just appear,” the doctor shouted. “They need a generated source.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Cade said.

“Is this magic?” the doctor shouted.

“No. I suspect cloaked ships.”

“Oh. Yes. Certainly,” Halifax said in a quieter and relieved voice.

As Cade watched through the scope, he saw two vessels appear at the origin point of each green beam. The ships might have teleported there or uncloaked. He believed the latter, as it was the simpler explanation for what he’d observed so far.

The Raptor 5000 missiles decelerated more. Once again, green beams shot out, this time from cannons on each ship. The ships were teardrop-shaped vessels, each approximately half the size of a Raptor 5000. That made each vessel twice the size of the Descartes. The missiles quit decelerating, drifting at their new velocity. The teardrop-shaped vessels began accelerating, each heading for one of the Raptor missiles.

This was finally too much for Cade. He sat up, using both hands to rub his face.

“What’s wrong?” asked a worried Halifax.

Cade shook his head. Then he got up and went to communications. He began hailing the teardrop-shaped vessels.

A third ship now appeared.

The Nion warned them about it. Halifax checked the nav, spying a large boxlike spaceship on a screen. The third ship was in the Asteroid Belt with them, although over five million kilometers away to their left. The boxlike vessel was massive: dwarfing the Descartes like Jupiter would dwarf the Earth’s Moon. The boxlike ship was drifting, compared to the ex-Patrol scout that moved fast through the belt, heading toward the system’s second planet.

“Don’t interrupt the proceedings,” a familiar voice told them over the comm.

“Captain Graven Tarvoke,” Cade said. “What’s going on?”

“Just this, Mr. Interloper,” Tarvoke said. “Begin immediate deceleration or I’ll launch missiles at you, destroying your vessel. You have ten seconds to comply.”

Chapter Nine

Cade sat back at the comm board, thinking about what Tarvoke had just said.

“What do we do?” Halifax asked, with his fingers aflutter with nervousness.

“Let me think,” Cade said.

Halifax checked a timer. “Our ten seconds are almost up.”

“I don’t want to have to destroy your ship,” Tarvoke said from the comm. “But I will if you don’t immediately comply.”

Cade glanced at Halifax. The doctor was not looking at him. The small man had jumped up, racing to sensors, no doubt watching the boxlike free trader through the scope.

The soldier spoke into the microphone. “Clearly, by your actions, you’re mining cyborg technology.”

Tarvoke said nothing to the accusation.

“I witnessed a shimmer to the missiles as they left the gas giant’s vicinity,” Cade said. “What caused that?”

“If you don’t know, it doesn’t matter to you,” Tarvoke said. “Now, listen, I’ve already been too lenient with you. Begin immediate deceleration.”

“Why did you fire missiles at us when we were outside the barrier?”

“I didn’t do any such—what did you say?” Tarvoke asked.

“You launched two missiles at us when we were outside the barrier,” Cade said.

Tarvoke breathed heavily before saying, “The idiot, I can’t believe it.”

Cade glanced at an upright, thoughtful Halifax before asking the free trader, “Can you clarify your statement?”

“Do you claim to have already spoken to me?” Tarvoke asked.

“You already know the answer to that,” Cade said.

Halifax leaned closer toward the comm, listening intently.

“There’s been a mistake,” Tarvoke said. “You claim to have just come through the barrier?”

“You said earlier that we’d spoken to the Eagle-Dukes,” Cade said.

“Oh, that tears it,” Tarvoke said. “Look. That wasn’t me who did those things outside the barrier.”

“Your voice sounds identical,” Cade said.

“Yes, yes, it was a Graven Tarvoke, but not me,” the free trader said.

Remembering Leona Quillian, the original, from Group Six in the Durdane System, Cade asked, “Are you suggesting I spoke to a clone?”

Halifax snapped his fingers, pointing at Cade as if in silent agreement.

Over the comm, Tarvoke sighed heavily. “If you want to think of it that way, yes, that will work. It wasn’t a clone, however. It was a—okay. Listen. We’re getting off track. I need you to decelerate.”

“Why?” asked Cade.

“For starters, you can’t go to the second planet.”

“To Coad?” asked Cade.

“I can’t believe this,” Tarvoke said. “He’s a total idiot. What was he thinking? Listen. Listen to me. What else did he tell you?”

Halifax motioned with a hand. Cade noticed. The doctor shook his head.

Cade nodded, saying, “Perhaps if you start from the beginning, I’ll understand your position.”

Halifax gave him an “okay” sign.

“I demand that you decelerate,” Tarvoke said sternly. “You’ve seen two of my cloaked strikers. Believe me. I have hundreds more, hundreds. You’ll never make it to the second planet.”

“Why not call it Coad?” asked Cade.

“Fine,” Tarvoke said, “you obviously know more than you’re letting on. I imagine he told you far too much. What’s your price then?”

“Wait a second,” Halifax said, standing.

Cade muted the comm.

Halifax concentrated as he rubbed his chin. “Do you believe anything he’s saying?”

“Well…you said Tarvoke couldn’t have been this deep in the star system and spoken to us beyond the barrier. Perhaps there really are two of them. It would explain how it happened.”

“Did you see what his strikers are doing to the missiles? They’re collecting them. I think you hit upon it. Tarvoke is collecting cyborg weaponry. Isn’t that audacious and amazing?”

“Yeah,” Cade said. “It is.”

“The shimmer you saw earlier must be important. Tarvoke refuses to say what it is. And he clearly doesn’t want us to go to Coad. Our ship represents something important to him. He threatened to launch missiles against us, but I don’t believe he will.”

“Because he doesn’t want to destroy our ship?” Cade asked.

“I think that’s it. Now, we just have to figure out why.”

“If that’s so… We must accelerate and get out of here.”

Halifax pursed his lips, nodding, hurrying to the pilot’s seat. He began manipulating controls, starting acceleration.

“I’m going to decline your offer for now,” Cade said into the microphone. “But if you want to begin telling us what’s really going on, I’m perfectly willing to negotiate with you.”

“I just saved your life,” Tarvoke said. “The Raptor missiles would have obliterated your tiny ship.”

“Possibly,” Cade said.

“Have you ever heard about cyborgs?”

“A time or two,” Cade said dryly.

“You’re being foolish,” Tarvoke said. “Don’t you want to get back to your own space-time continuum?”

Cade stiffened, thinking hard, deciding to play a hunch, as Tarvoke seemed too eager. “I have no worries there,” he said.

There was silence on the other end. “Okay, okay,” Tarvoke said. “I can see you’re a dealer, a Scavenger, perhaps. You know what I mean when I say that, don’t you?”

“I do,” Cade said, lying, of course, but seeing it as tactics in a combat situation.

“Well…?” asked Tarvoke.

Still playing the hunch, Cade asked, “Did you forget how to get back home?”

“You bastard,” Tarvoke said in a rough voice. “You’re mocking me. You must know then.”

“If you want to play coy, go ahead,” Cade said. “I can do the same thing.”

Halifax nodded, giving him another “okay” sign.

There was more silence from Tarvoke. It lasted for so long that Cade glanced at Halifax. The doctor shrugged his thin shoulders.

“Let me ask you one question,” Tarvoke finally said. “If you answer it, I’ll answer any one question you have for me.”

“The law of reciprocity?” asked Cade.

“So, you really did speak to my double. In that case, I suggest we play on the level with each other. We can both profit from this.”

“Agreed,” said Cade.

“Do you have a working Intersplit engine?”

“Ah-ha!” Halifax whispered. “Now we know why he doesn’t want to destroy our ship. His Intersplit must have gone on the fritz. So he wants ours.”

“Our Intersplit works,” Cade told Tarvoke. “Perhaps that was why your double launched missiles at us.”

“He’s insane,” Tarvoke said wearily.

“So I gathered. What—?” Cade stopped speaking.

“Yes?” Tarvoke asked. “Go ahead, ask your question.”

“How long have you been stranded in the star system?”

Tarvoke laughed sourly. “Nine years, fifty-eight days.”

“How many times have you been to the Corvine System?”

“I answered your question one for one. So don’t try to pump me for more. Now, look, you can’t take your Intersplit engine to Coad. That would be the worst mistake of all.”

“Can you clarify as to why?” Cade asked.

“Of course I can, but I realize you’re trying to cheat me, to pump me for information. If you think the Eagle-Dukes or maybe even the Rhunes will pay you a higher price for your Intersplit, you’re mad. I barely escaped from the planet with my hide. They all tried to cheat me. Well, I won’t stand for it a second time. If you don’t sell me your ship or partner with me, I will launch missiles against you. If I can’t leave this hellhole system, no one can.”

“After nine years, I can understand why you might be desperate,” Cade said. “How can you and I come to an understanding?”

“My word is my bond,” Tarvoke said proudly. “Ask anyone who knows me. I always keep my bargains. I’ve lost SLUs in the past because of it.”

“What are SLUs?” Cade asked.

“Everyone knows that,” Tarvoke said, “Standard Labor-value Units. They’re the universal monetary unit from the Chandler Reach and beyond. I’m stunned you’re not familiar with the concept.”

“I’ve never heard of an SLU or the Chandler Reach,” Cade said.

Tarvoke sighed heavily. “A Standard Labor-value Unit is defined as the value of unskilled labor under standard conditions for one hour. Toil is the one equal standard commodity of existence.”

“That sounds suspiciously collectivist to me,” Halifax muttered. “A thing is worth what you can get for it: the law of supply and demand.”

“I heard that,” Tarvoke said. “At first glance, one might think so. Upon further thought, a SLU supersedes such superficial thinking as supply and demand.”

“And yet he’s bargaining like any free trader,” Halifax muttered.

“Never mind about any of that,” Cade said, who couldn’t care less about economic theories. “Where is the Chandler Reach?”

“At this point,” Tarvoke said, “it doesn’t matter to either of us. What’s key is that we can trust each other. I can tell by talking to the two of you that each of you is trustworthy. Therefore, let’s join forces. You throw in the Intersplit engine, and I’ll give you a percentage of my nine-year haul in merchandise.”

“Supply and demand,” Halifax muttered further. “He’s a hypocrite, if not an outright liar.”

“Let me think about it,” Cade said.

“No, no,” Tarvoke said. “A trickster would speak like that. You don’t want me to think you’re a trickster, do you?”

“How can you?” Cade asked. “You already told me that you trust me.”

“Show me I’m right by your actions,” Tarvoke said.

“First,” Cade said, “how did you reach the gray universe?”

“Through a vortex,” Tarvoke said glumly.

“Can you navigate through a vortex to the Chandler Reach?” Cade asked.

It took a moment before Tarvoke said, “With ease.”

“He’s lying,” Halifax whispered. “I can hear it in his voice.”

Cade studied the doctor. Trust a liar to spot a liar. He believed the small man.

“So do we have a deal?” Tarvoke asked.

Cade didn’t answer. Instead, he went to the sensor scope and studied the two teardrop-shaped strikers and two Raptor missiles. Each striker was presently moving into position under a cyborg missile. Perhaps they would use magnets to attach the two. Presumably, the strikers would haul the captured missiles to the huge, boxlike free trader. That would indicate Tarvoke’s people had done this before.

Cade frowned. Cyborgs would not willingly let anyone do that to their missiles or other equipment. Had Tarvoke caused the breach to the mobile base’s hull? Somehow, the soldier did not think so. There was something else going on here, something he didn’t understand.

“Who do we trust?” Halifax asked.

Cade sat up from the scope.

“I certainly don’t trust Tarvoke,” Halifax said. “The first one said the Eagle-Dukes are men of honor, known to keep their word. I would tend to trust them over a free trader.”

“We continue heading for Coad,” Cade said. “If Tarvoke says we can’t deal with the Eagle-Dukes, that probably means we can. They’re likely our best bet for getting back on course.”

As if divining their thoughts, Tarvoke said, “Take a good long look at my ship. Notice the two missiles unloading from it.”

Through the scope, Cade examined the free trader. Indeed, small tugs maneuvered two new smaller missiles out of the boxlike vessel. Soon, the tugs detached from the new missiles.

“This is your final offer,” Tarvoke said. “I’m serious about not letting the Eagle-Dukes or Rhunes acquire your Intersplit engine. Either deal with me or die. You can reach your space-time continuum in a few days if you take me up on my offer.”

The soldier drummed his fingers on a console. More than anything, he wanted to get back to his space-time continuum so he could hunt for his wife. The trouble was he didn’t think the Chandler Reach was part of it. He was beginning to think several space-time continuums could enter the gray space and therefore the pocket universe.

“I’m not a patient man,” Tarvoke said.

“The dilemma is that I don’t trust you,” Cade said. “You have many people, we only have a few.”

“Then we’re at an impasse, aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

“Let me make this plain,” Tarvoke said. “You’re going to die in less than an hour if you don’t decelerate.”

“If we die, you’ll never reach home again.”

“Wrong,” Tarvoke said. “Others like you will come, so I’ll get an Intersplit in time. I prefer to have it now, but I can wait. What I will not allow is competition out here. That means I’m not giving the Eagle-Dukes or Rhunes a working Intersplit.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Cade said. “They don’t need an Intersplit to launch space vehicles from Coad. They would only need one in order to reach a large space-time continuum. That means—”

Halifax clapped his hands. “I finally get it!” he shouted. “The Eagle-Dukes and Rhunes came from a different space-time continuum. The presence of a cyborg ship shows one of the groups might have come from our universe. Cade, we have to reach the second planet. Even if we join him, Tarvoke will never allow us to reach our universe. He’ll kill us the instant he has our Intersplit.”

“You’re not decelerating,” Tarvoke said over the comm. “That means I’m about to launch.”

Cade stared at the comm board. A soldier did not dither, but made a choice and ran with it. If he was wrong—

He turned off the comm. Tarvoke must be bluffing. If he wasn’t, well…he was a soldier fighting a civilian and would knock down the missiles before the warheads destroyed the Descartes.

Chapter Ten

Maybe the floating missiles outside of the free trader were a bluff. The strikers appearing in the Descartes’ path did not seem like it, though.

Cade jumped up, moving to the sensor scope to study the two strikers ahead of the scout. He computed their speed, direction of travel and sent that to the weapons board. At the weapons board, Cade aligned the Descartes’ .50-caliber guns and launched a dozen shells at one striker and a dozen at the other.

“Cade,” the doctor said. “There are asteroids in the belt. Maybe we should slide behind one and use it as a shield.”

The soldier shook his head. “Waiting behind an asteroid will just make us a stationary target, delaying our capture at best. We have one chance of winning free, and that’s using surprise, doing the unexpected like I did on Ember.”

“Don’t you remember what Tarvoke said? He has over a hundred strikers in the system.”

“I don’t believe him,” Cade said. “In fact, I’ve concluded he’s a compulsive liar.”

“You don’t think he has a double near the barrier?”

“That part could be true,” Cade admitted. “The rest—I’m not buying it.”

The comm light blinked.

After a moment’s thought and with a shrug, Cade went to it, accepting the message.

“Do you see the strikers in your flight path?” Tarvoke asked.

“I do,” Cade said.

“The truth is you never had a chance. The system is seeded with them. I control space. The Rhunes control Coad. Surrender while you can and gain my goodwill.”

“I’m considering it,” Cade forced himself to say.

“Don’t consider too long,” Tarvoke warned. “I’ve already given orders to the strikers. You’ll be in their beam range soon. Once the beams hit your ship, the striker techs can take over your computer. Your ship will obey my orders.”

“I thought it might be something like that.”

“Listen to me, Cade. Don’t try to screw with me. I know all the tricks, and I recognize delaying tactics when I hear them. Slow down, or it will go worse for you.”

Halifax had gone to the sensor scope. He looked up with urgency.

“Just a moment,” Cade said, muting Tarvoke. “What is it, Doctor?”

“I can’t see your shells.”

Cade laughed. “I hope you can’t. That means the striker pilots can’t see them as well. Remember, the shells are tiny and lack any electronic or exhaust signature. I’ve seen this trick done before. It’s always a surprise when the other side isn’t ready for it.”

Cade unmuted Tarvoke. “Before I agree to join you, I’d like real insurance concerning our safety.”

“Start slowing down, Cade. This is your final chance.”

“The strikers are almost in beam range,” Halifax said. “That’s given what we saw before with the Raptor 5000s.”

“The shells should almost be there,” Cade said.

“Can you have really targeted accurately?” Halifax asked.

“We’ll know soon enough.”

Soon enough came thirty-four seconds later. The closer striker shuddered. The lights in the vessel flickered, flickered more and then went out. Five seconds later, the same thing happened to the other striker as they both began to drift.

“Hits,” Halifax said from the scope. “The shells didn’t explode, but smashed through the hulls, doing damage.”

Cade nodded. The shell tactic had worked. How long would it be until Tarvoke understood what he’d done? He debated ideas and decided to wait.

Soon, Tarvoke hailed them. “What did you do, Cade? What happened to my strikers?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Blast you, Cade. You don’t understand the forces you’re dealing with. I’m your only hope. The Rhunes aren’t even human. They’re aliens. You don’t want to fall into alien hands, do you?”

“Don’t send any more strikers at us,” Cade said. “This is a special mission vessel. I’ve been easy on you so far. If you threaten my vessel again, I’ll take you and your confederates down, Captain Tarvoke.”

“Who do you think you’re fooling?” Tarvoke demanded.

“I’ve warned you as charged by the Concord Code,” Cade said. “In truth, I’m investigating the star system and the latent cyborg menace. Once my mission is over, I can offer you assistance home.”

“You don’t expect me to believe your cat shit, do you?”

“How do you explain the stricken strikers?”

“I can’t yet,” Tarvoke said. “But I will.”

“I suggest that until you do, you refrain from any aggressive action that will force me to destroy your free trader.”

“Balls!” Tarvoke said half a minute later. “You fired shells at them. Good try, Cade. I give you high marks for quick thinking. Now, though, I’m finished offering. Are you going to decelerate?”

Cade did not reply. He’d used all the tricks he could think of. Now, it was time to wait as the Descartes sped toward the inner edge of the Asteroid Belt.

Two minutes later, Halifax groaned as he peered through the sensor scope. The doctor looked up, white-faced. “He did it. The two floating missiles are accelerating, coming after us. Now, what do we do?”

Cade went to the weapons board, instructing the doctor to patch through what he saw on the scope. The scout had gained more distance during this time, but the missiles accelerated many times faster than the Descartes. Unlike the Raptor 5000s, these two missiles traveled close together.

Cade’s fingers flew over the board. Outside on the scout’s hull, an anti-missile rocket detached as the soldier fed it data. The rocket accelerated, slowing its velocity as it gained separation from the scout. The rocket slowed as the enemy missiles caught up with it even faster. In the meantime, the scout accelerated away.

Time ticked by as Tarvoke’s missiles shortened the distance between the rocket and the Descartes.

Several minutes later, the rocket’s conventional warhead detonated, expelling an expanding swath of shrapnel-like fragments. Soon, the two missiles reached the fragment mass. Pieces of metal—penny-sized shards—struck each warhead. One missile exploded—a fuel explosion. Pieces from that missile reached the other, shredding it as well.

Halifax cheered. “Way to go, Cade. That was great. It worked.”

“Is he launching more?”

Halifax studied the scope. “Not that I can see.”

“We may have caught him by surprise, as he’s only a civilian.”

The comm light blinked. Cade accepted the hail.

“You got lucky,” Tarvoke said. “It will take me time to launch again. But we will. My sensor team has scanned your vessel. You only have one rocket left. We don’t detect any advanced equipment. Are you sure you want to continue the charade?”

“I’ve given you fair warning,” Cade said. “I have no more to say at this time.”

“We’ll see,” Tarvoke said.

The scout continued through the Asteroid Belt. Twenty-five minutes passed, and no new strikers appeared anywhere in their vicinity. So much for Tarvoke’s claim to have hundreds. At the beginning of the twenty-sixth minute, Halifax spotted another missile launch from the free trader. This time, only one came after them. Five minutes later, another missile launched from the boxlike vessel.

“What are we going to do now?” Halifax asked.

“Launch the last rocket and use shells afterward. Tarvoke is a merchant, a profit-peddler and an amateur, a civilian. I don’t think he’s faced too many combat veterans. I doubt he has any on his side.”

“How did you come up with all that?”

“My point, Doctor, is that he’s making mistakes I can exploit. He said that he’s been stranded here for nine years. Unless he’s manufacturing more missiles…he has a decidedly limited supply of them. I’m not sure he’ll care to risk too many more of his precious missiles when he finds that none of them can reach us. We’re far from defeated.”

Before the scout exited the Asteroid Belt, it destroyed one missile with its remaining rocket, and the other with fifty-four shells spread into cones of probability, aimed at where the missile would be when the shells arrived.

“Tarvoke hasn’t launched any more,” the doctor said later.

Finally, the scout exited the belt. At that point, Cade changed the direction of travel.

“Why do that?” asked Halifax. “It only wastes fuel because we’ll have to move back into position to reach the planet.”

“Maybe Tarvoke has radioed other cloaked strikers that have maneuvered into our projected path. If that’s so, we’ve changed our path and thus maneuvered out of danger.”

Halifax nodded, understanding.

“Like I said before, Doctor, Tarvoke doesn’t have any combat veterans on his side. We do. That’s the difference.”

“I thought you hated boasting.”

“I do,” Cade said. “I’m just stating facts.”

“Huh. Soldiers call things by different names, I guess.”

The comm board blinked again. This time, Cade ignored it, as he’d listened to enough threats. Tarvoke would have to act again, but now, Tarvoke knew they could still defend themselves against lone missiles. If the free trader really wanted to take them out, he’d have to use salvos of missiles. Did Tarvoke have that many extra to do that?

An hour later, Halifax stretched from his long stint at the sensor scope. “You did it. Tarvoke is letting us go.”

“I wouldn’t say that just yet.”

“He isn’t launching any new missiles.”

“I agree with that,” Cade said.

“What else can he do?”

That was the question Cade kept asking himself—what he kept trying to figure out. Tarvoke didn’t want them to land on Coad. Did the free trader have any tricks left? Cade suspected so.

The rest of the journey to the second planet proved uneventful. No cloaked strikers appeared. No more missiles raced after them from the free trader.

As the scout approached the planet, Cade took to studying it through the sensor scope.

“Well?” Halifax asked after a time.

Cade looked up. “From what I can see, it’s a swamp-lagoon planet, a steaming hot house with vast low oceans and several steep mountain ranges. There aren’t any continents as such, but various areas of large island chains. I wonder if the Rhunes are aquatic aliens.”

“Did you spot any cities?”

Cade shook his head.

“Any industrialization?” asked Halifax.

“Mountain strongholds,” Cade said. “I suspect the humans—the Eagle-Dukes—live there. From my scanning, this seems like a low-tech planet.”

“Then why does Tarvoke fear them?”

“Good question,” Cade said. “What did he say before? The Rhunes control Coad. Yes, I suspect some kind of aquatic or amphibious aliens. This would be the perfect planet for them.”

“Does that mean the Rhunes are indigenous to Coad?”

“I have no way of determining that.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Halifax said. “Did the Rhunes build the pocket universe?”

“It’s time to decelerate hard and slide into orbit. We can examine the surface better from orbit and possibly contact someone on the surface.”

Halifax went to piloting. They buckled in, and the scout decelerated hard, the gravity dampeners working overtime. Soon, the ex-Patrol scout took up orbit around the water-lagoon planet.

The comm board began blinking.

Cade unstrapped and tapped the controls. He caught the tail end of a garbled message, perhaps in code. He frowned and manipulated the board, frowning more severely as he worked trying to decode it.

“What’s wrong?” asked Halifax.

“It appears the message originated from somewhere in the Asteroid Belt. I unscrambled some of it, but I don’t think it was meant for us. The tail end said: ‘Surrender immediately.’”

“That sounds like Tarvoke. Why would he send that to Rhunes or Eagle-Dukes?”

Cade was still frowning when he spun toward Halifax. “Quickly, Doctor, we must leave orbit.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“Tarvoke may have sent the message to implicate us, to make those on the surface believe we’re hostile to them.”

As if to punctuate the point, red streaks rose from the surface, heading for the Descartes. At the piloting station, Halifax maneuvered the ship to avoid the streaks, but couldn’t shift the scout’s position fast enough. Particles struck them, smashing through the tail section, disintegrating part of the ship as the entire vessel buckled.

“Mayday, mayday,” Halifax shouted. “I’m beginning an emergency crash landing. Hang on, Cade.”

As hatches automatically closed everywhere inside and locked, as the entire craft shuddered, the crippled Descartes plunged toward the surface. Both men grabbed emergency breathers, strapping them around their faces.

Chapter Eleven

It was a hell ride through the upper atmosphere. Halifax flew the shaking, bucking, metallic-screeching vessel, the gravity dampeners straining so it became extremely hot inside the control cabin. It must have been much worse everywhere else aboard the stricken scout.

Cade had time to wonder if they should have taken Tarvoke’s offer. It would have given them the possibility of getting back to their space-time continuum someday. Now, they’d be lucky to survive the next few minutes. Fortunately, no more red streaks rose up from the planet. Had the streaks been material or some kind of concentrated energy? Did it even matter anymore?

They had one point in their favor: the Concord had made its Patrol vessels tough. Even without a tail section, the scout held together. The overheating gravity dampeners might have had something to do with their survival so far. Surely, some of the dampeners were burning out, but as they did, they slowed the craft’s descent just enough. Would all the dampeners be useless after this? Would the Intersplit engine melt into slag?

After a grimly torturous, gut-twisting descent, the scout reached the lower atmosphere, still moving like a runaway sled. Through the polarized window, a vast green ocean spread out before them. The Descartes kept descending as it flew horizontally, bucking wildly.

Cade turned to Halifax, shouting through his breather. It was certain the doctor did not hear him. Maybe the small man instinctively knew that the ship would not float on the ocean surface, but likely plunge to the bottom.

The entire craft shook, rattled and tried to roll over. Halifax fought that masterfully. It might have been his greatest feat of piloting to date.

Through the window, a brown smudge appeared in the green distance.

Cade pointed at it.

If Halifax saw, he gave no indication. The racing scout lowered abruptly. For a moment, they skimmed across the green sea, touching water. Around them, sea monsters surfaced to watch. They were huge creatures with long rubbery necks and gleaming rows of teeth.

The scout lifted even as it shed bottom hull pieces.

The brown smudge grew into low mountains surrounding a vast lagoon. The scout slowed to a degree, but not enough, not nearly enough, perhaps having taken too much damage. Luckily, the final energy of the gravity dampeners gave them just enough control to reach the lagoon and plow into a great kilometers-long mat of reeds. That jerked both men hard against their straps. Halifax’s collarbone snapped. He went white, blood seeped from his mouth and he slumped unconscious.

In some ways, it was worse for Cade. The skimming, stone-like skipping, wild bouncing and then abrupt stopping tore the restraints from Cade’s seat. The polarized window had not survived, and that proved a minor miracle, as it allowed Cade to live a few minutes longer at least. He ejected from the scout like a missile, hurled free of the craft. He flew through the open space where the window had been and struck reeds, bouncing, hitting more reeds until he tumbled like a rag doll onto oozing mud.

The flight across the reeds had knocked him unconscious. Luckily, he landed on his back. If he’d landed on his belly, his face might have sunk into the slimy mud and he’d suffocated to death. Instead, he lay battered and bruised, unconscious.

The heated scout burned some of the wet reeds. The wrecked, halted spacecraft settled, pushing burning reeds into muddy water. Amazingly, only part of the ship flooded with lagoon water. The rest of the craft remained dry.

Time passed, an hour, two.

With no more smoke billowing from burning reeds, leathery winged creatures began circling the wreck. A few squawked upon seeing Cade lying on the mud. They were like evil little pterodactyls from Earth’s prehistory. Several flapped above him, circling lower and lower. The boldest screeched loudly, perhaps to test if he was still alive.

Cade’s eyelids fluttered. Despite a pounding headache, he stared into a beer-colored sky with a hot sun shining down on him. He spied the little pterodactyls and groaned as he moved his arms and legs. The muscles barely responded to his will. They were sore from the beating they had taken. Yet Cade was a soldier. His comrade might be in danger. Grimacing, he sat up quietly.

Cade saw the wrecked, crashed scout, a swath of burned reeds marking the vessel’s route over the great mat. He saw water lapping against hull metal and into open parts of the vessel. He had to rescue Halifax.

Cade tried to stand, but that proved beyond him. He hurt so badly that he began checking himself for broken bones. Incredibly, there were none. Maybe he had muscle tears instead. He couldn’t tell at the moment. With a groan, he lay back on the mud, staring up at the sky.

He shivered painfully, but he refused to despair. As long as he lived, he would fight. As long as he could fight, he could change things. That meant he would struggle to find his wife, no matter what kind of odds were arranged against him. Being stranded on an alien planet in a pocket universe far from his space-time continuum made it long odds. But what the hell, what else did he have to do?

He might have passed out again. When he opened his eyes this time, the little leathery flapping creatures were gone. That seemed strange to him. If he’d been unconscious, they should have landed to tear into his flesh. They were obvious scavengers. Why had they left? There had to be a reason.

Motion at the corner of his vision might hold the answer. Cade turned his head, focusing on the sky. That…looked like a dirigible, a rigid airship, sometimes known as a zeppelin. There was a large wickerwork gondola hanging by ropes that attached to the skeleton frame, holding gasbags within. The dirigible drifted in the sky, with two giant propellers spinning lazily. The propellers were attached behind the gondola. Lines of white smoke drifted from the rear area. Was that a diesel engine chugging? It sounded like it might be. Perhaps just as interestingly, there was an extremely long rope attached to the gondola. That sagging rope trailed sideways to a rocky hill. Might that be an anchor rope?

Cade squinted at the gondola. He thought to see tiny faces peering over the edge of the wickerwork construction. Were those men studying the crashed spaceship in the lagoon?

Feebly, from his spot on the mud, Cade raised an arm, moving it back and forth. But they must not have seen him, as there was no reaction on their part.

One of the people in the gondola leaned far out and waved frantically in the direction of the rocky hill and the end of the anchor rope. At the same time, a huge rudder at the back of the airship turned, and the two propellers began spinning faster. The diesel chugged harder than ever. Slowly, the airship started turning toward the hill. The sagging rope also began to tighten as if others at the end pulled. Ever so slowly, the airship began moving for the rocky hill.

Cade watched, entranced and then in horror.

A red streak in the sky raced for the giant airship. There were several red streaks following one after another, maybe tracer rounds. The red-hot rounds struck the airship, and that area ignited into flame. The flames caused an explosion, igniting the gasbags. They must be filled with hydrogen. Hydrogen was highly flammable. The explosion became a roar of fire. More red streaks riddled the gondola, masses of them, breaking parts of it. Men fell from the gondola as the fire roared hotter above them.

Cade could feel heat on the mud.

Two parachutes opened. Tracer rounds riddled the drifting men and the parachutes. Screaming, the men splashed into the sea. The parachutes crumpled, those corpses following the others into the green sea.

The burning airship sank, following the jumping people. The rope fell as if someone at the hill had cut it from the anchor.

I have to get out of here. I must hide.

By heaving himself and groaning, Cade managed to turn onto his stomach and began crawling like a sick turtle across the mud. He crawled into reeds where the mud wasn’t as slick. As he crawled farther, he reached dry land with fewer reeds.

He no longer saw the airship, gondola or people. He no longer heard the roaring fire or felt any extra heat. What he’d seen—it felt surreal.

Trembling from exhaustion, Cade rolled onto his back, panting as sweat soaked his frame. He had no idea what to expect, biplanes perhaps. Instead, a great square raft, a floating raft, slid across the sky. He saw two more rafts following the first. They had chrome housings underneath. Perhaps those were gravity dampeners or lifters of some kind. The sky-rafts lowered toward the vast mat of lagoon reeds, maneuvering—

Cade raised his head.

The sky-rafts maneuvered over the wreck of the ex-Patrol scout.

Cade licked his cracked lips.

Dr. Halifax was still aboard the Descartes. At least, Cade believed that was true. The soldier could do nothing about it now. As if to punctuate the point, his muscles painfully spasmed. He wanted to rescue the doctor, but he simply could not do it.

Cables lowered from the three sky-rafts. The ends of the cables attached magnetically to the scout. The sky-rafts rose, strained and the chrome under-housings whined. Then, a great sucking sound gave Cade the motivation to raise his head again. He saw the taut cables pull the scout out of the muddy lagoon. Water poured out of holes.

The rafts began sliding through the sky, taking the swaying, creaking scout with them. They headed out over the open ocean.

“No,” Cade whispered. Where were the sky-rafts taking Dr. Halifax and the scout? This was a second disaster. Did Rhunes fly the sky-rafts? Is this what Tarvoke had anticipated would happen? Why hadn’t the free trader spoken more openly then?

Cade scowled.

What had Tarvoke said before? The Rhunes ruled Coad. He ruled space. Tarvoke had also feared the Rhunes using the Intersplit to help them come into space—or so the captain had said, anyway.

Tarvoke had indicated that he’d been on Coad before. That was interesting. The double—the Tarvoke outside the barrier—had implied the Eagle-Dukes preached about honor. Eagles lived in mountainous regions. That was why Cade had believed the strongholds he’d seen from orbit belonged to the Eagle-Dukes. It would seem Tarvoke had dealt with them before. Did that mean the Eagle-Dukes spoke the same language as the free trader?

Despite his exhaustion, Cade kept crawling, trying to reach drier ground. Men had fallen from an airship-buoyed gondola. The sky-rafts had fired at the airship with red streaks, perhaps tracer rounds. Did that mean the owners of the red streaks that had attacked the orbital scout were the same beings?

That seemed logical. Thus, it also seemed logical that he should try to reach the people who must have cut the anchor rope. Those in the gondola had fallen and surely died or drowned. They must have drowned on the other side of the rocky hills. What had happened to the people on the hill? Could some of them still be alive?

If Cade was going to survive the planet, it might be easier if he could reach the Eagle-Dukes. As long as he lived, he had a chance of reversing his situation. He’d learned that long ago in The War. He’d been in many seemingly hopeless situations before and had come through in the end. Why not now?

Because you lost your ship and are stranded in a pocket universe, you idiot. I know. I know. I failed miserably. But I’m going to win. He clenched his jaws. Raina, Raina, I’m coming for you, darling. I’ll do whatever it takes.

Cade crawled painfully toward the base of the mountainous hill, refusing to quit. He crawled through sparser reeds, the motion lubricating his aching muscles and thus his mind. He was beat up, dispirited—he dug in a pants pocket, finding a tiny flattish packet. He pulled it out and tore the packet open with his teeth. There were two pills inside. He dry-swallowed them both. He seldom relied upon stimulants, but he always carried a few just in case for emergencies like on Ember.

He waited for the stims to take effect. Using them would demand a toll on his body, but he figured now was the time to reach any people on the hill. Soon, feeling almost normal in a surreal kind of way, he climbed to his feet and looked around.

The reeds, lagoon and then the ocean were behind him. Before him was the tall jagged hill, almost a mountain, with others behind it. There was lichen growing on rocks and patches of orange and red flower-like vegetation and towering green ferns from a Jurassic-like jungle. Small leathery winged creatures soared high above. He saw clouds of insects in places, but not any animals other than the flyers. He hadn’t spotted any more people—

A hiss to his left alerted him. Cade spun that way in time to see an alligator-like creature with a ridged back. It had short thick bowed legs but moved them in a blur as it charged. The alien alligator was seven meters long, a true monster. It had bloody teeth, indicating it might have already been feasting on fallen people, and its belly bulged.

The stims allowed Cade to break into a sprint, heading for a jumble of rocks. He looked back over his shoulder. The alien alligator was gaining fast. It closed and lunged at the last second. Cade had been waiting for something like that and jumped left. Teeth clashed, barely missing him. Then, the reptilian beast rushed past. Cade fell and rolled across stones and dirt. The monster skidded to a halt and swiveled toward him. The soldier shot to his feet, whirling around to face the thing. He jumped at it, shouting, waving his arms. Surprised perhaps, the alien alligator flinched. Cade ran and jumped again, over the jaws, his boots thudding across the head as he literally ran over the ridged back.

The beast gave a throaty grunt-roar, outraged, and swiveling again. Cade sprinted for the boulders. He looked back as one of his thigh muscles cramped painfully. He didn’t want to tear anything and cripple himself for weeks. The beast rose up and down on its short bowed legs like a lizard. Maybe he could scare it away and wouldn’t have to run anymore. Cade had picked up several rocks when he’d tumbled. He slid to a stop as the thigh muscle badly spasmed. He hurled one fist-sized rock after another, hitting near the beast’s eyes each time.

The monster gave another throaty grunt-roar and charged again.

That wasn’t the desired result, although the momentary rest had given the exhausted muscle time to stop cramping. He hurled one more stone, and it struck a protruding eye. The beast hissed, slowing down. Cade took the opportunity, turned and lurched for the jumbled boulders in the distance.

The beast blinked the bruised eye several times as if checking to see if it was damaged. Finally, perhaps deciding the stinging eye was okay, the beast charged once more.

Cade barely reached the boulders in time, scrambling madly up one and then another. The beast lunged upward, using its short legs to attempt to climb after its dinner. The teeth clicked centimeters from the soldier’s boots. That was the monster’s last chance, however. The soldier scaled rocks and then a cliff, climbing out of immediate danger.

Cade continued up, doing it deliberately, more slowly now, so he didn’t cause any more cramps, scaling almost sheer rock at times. He finally reached a large ledge and dragged himself up. He panted, looking around from on his belly. There were tall ferns, a few outrageously large orange flowers and a surprise.

Three men stepped from behind a lichen-covered boulder, aiming what looked like long-barreled flintlock rifles at him. They wore garish garments: red kerchiefs on their heads, black vests with white stained shirts and baggy blue pantaloons with heeled black boots. Each had jeweled belts and each had a green sash on his torso. Some had knives stuck in the sash, others flintlock pistols. Sheathed cutlasses swung from their hips.

The three men had harsh features: big noses, thick lips and red-rimmed eyes. They were stout fellows, each with a belly from too much grog or meat.

As they approached, Cade climbed to his feet.

“Stretch yer hands airborne if you understand me,” the pirate with the biggest belly said. The man spoke with an outrageous accent, but he was understandable, which seemed incredible.

Nevertheless, Cade raised his hands.

“Ye be our prisoner,” the man said. “Do ye agree?”

Cade said and did nothing, trying to decide if he should try resisting.

“If ye don’t agree, I’m going to shoot thee.”

“I’m your prisoner,” Cade said thickly. “Can I ask where you’re taking me?”

“Let’s fly him to Lord Magnus,” one of the others said. “He’s sure to be worth thousands of ducats.”

The leader shook his red-kerchiefed head. “Lord Magnus be damned. You saw what this varmint did, crawled out of the spaceship, he did. No, by Cletus. This one be ours. The Rhunes will pay us even more for the likes of him.”

“The Rhunes?” the other asked. “Ye can’t mean that. Why, that be treason.”

“T’aint treason, you daft fool. This be about wealth for the rest of yer miserable life. Ye have a problem with vast wealth?”

Cade had a problem with the plan, although he didn’t say so. With the stims surging through his system, it was hard staying still even with his weary muscles. He lowered his arms and crouched as if spent—it wasn’t all an act.

Obviously suspicious, the leader re-aimed the long rifle at him.

Cade made a show of panting heavily, dropping his head as he gathered his resolve to act.

“I don’t like this, Mael,” the other said. “The Rhunes hate us. You know that Lord Magnus said—”

“Magnus be damned!” big-bellied Mael shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. Had they been drinking? Was that why their eyes were red? “This be about wealth. Besides, I’m sick of taking orders from the fallen Eagle-Duke. He ain’t nobler than the likes of us anymore.”

From his crouched position, Cade drew his boot knife. He hurled it underhanded, a flickering motion. The seven-inch blade twirled, the razor-sharp metal sliding into Mael’s throat. The man grunted wetly, stumbling back.

“Mael!” the other shouted, turning to the knifed man.

Cade uncoiled, picking up a rock as he flung himself at them. He hurled the rock. It struck a man’s face with a thud, and that one staggered back. The other swung his long rifle, maybe to line up a shot at the attacking spaceman. Cade grabbed the barrel and wrenched the weapon out of the man’s hands.

“Mercy!” that one cried, dropping to his knees and holding up leathery hands, each one missing part of a finger.

Cade reversed his grip so he held the long rifle normally. The rock-struck man had righted himself, with blood dripping from his wide nose. The man raised his rifle to fire, pulling back the lock holding the flint as he did.

Cade did the same with his rifle, but faster, and he shot from the hip. The trigger-freed striker slammed the flint against the frizzen, creating sparks in the pan, which caused gunpowder to flash and discharge the bullet. The bullet sped from the barrel, catching the other shooter in the face. This time the man went down—dead, his brains leaking from a shattered forehead.

Cade looked at the kneeling man with his hands in the air.

The man was staring back at him in shock. “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. Who ye be? What be ye?”

“Who are you?”

“Chom, men call me Chom. Ye slew Mael and Palo, veteran Crag Raiders.”

“That makes you a Crag Raider as well.”

Chom nodded, his hands rising higher.

“What are Crag Raiders doing here?”

Chom blinked, his features crumpling. “Please,” he whispered. “Don’t kill me. I beg ye—”

Cade heard a booted foot scrape against rock—the sound came from behind. He turned just in time to see a rifle stock rushing at his head. He shifted, the stock catching the edge of his left cheek. The cheek exploded with pain, but it did not debilitate the soldier. A man in pirate gear holding a long rifle stumbled past. Cade shot out a foot, tripping the booted fellow, who went sprawling on the rocky ground.

Cade turned back toward Chom as Chom jumped up, drawing his cutlass. The soldier jabbed with the long rifle, using the end of the barrel, catching Chom under the chin against the throat. Chom grunted as he lost his hold of the cutlass. Cade drew back and thrust with the barrel once more, driving the end so hard it crushed part of Chom’s throat. The man dropped onto the rocky ground, gurgling.

The one who had fallen face forward on the ground scrambled up without his rifle. “Get up, Chom!” he screamed, drawing a cutlass. “Chom!”

Chom raised his head.

Cade moved in, kicking with his boot, kicking Chom in the head, causing the man to flip over onto his back.

The cutlass man roared, charging, swinging the heavy blade back and forth, driving Cade away from Chom. The soldier used the barrel of the long rifle, blocking two cuts that would have severely wounded him.

Even with stims, Cade was flagging by this point. Over a thousand years ago, he’d been a Centurion Grade super-soldier, but that didn’t make him invincible. He was reaching his physical limit. Unless he stopped the cutlass man soon, that one would open him up.

The cutlass man used two hands now, swinging the heavy deadly blade back and forth. Cade backed up. The cutlass man charged. Cade dropped to his stomach. The man tried to check his rush, but failed, tripping over Cade. He kept going and screamed as he stumbled over a boulder on the ledge. He shrieked until he hit rocks a hundred meters below, making him meat for alien alligators.

Wearily, Cade climbed to his feet. Chom was dead, looking as if he’d choked to death, unable to get enough air through his ruined throat. All four Crag Raiders were dead.

Did these four belong to the burned airship? It seemed likely.

Cade surveyed the area. He did not see any others. He stumbled to the three dead men, finding two canteens and one small metal flask. The canteens held water, and the flask held hard, harsh grog. What was the correct move now?

Their garments weren’t large enough for Cade. He would stick to his torn spaceman’s gray. He collected and cleaned his perfectly balanced boot-knife, putting it back in place, belted on a cutlass scabbard and weapon and took the best-made rifle and bag of gunpowder and lead bullets. He surveyed the area once again but didn’t see anyone else.

What had happened to the rest of the anchor team? Or had these four been it?

“Enough,” Cade whispered.

He drank water, ate some hardtack and slowly began trekking upward. The long rifle, cutlass and canteens would mark him as a looter. He knew very little about what was going on here. It sounded like it would be a good idea to talk with a man named Lord Magnus. It also seemed that a Rhune outpost was close by.

He studied the sinking sun. It would be twilight in another hour. He was exhausted and alone, and he had clearly made enemies of the Crag Raiders.

Despite that, he was free, not a prisoner. The others had badly underestimated him. He began using the easiest route up the rocky hill. Below, the lagoon and ocean beyond seemed serene and lonely. That was an illusion, if the alien alligator was any indicator.

Step by step, Cade climbed until he spied brown to the left. That brown did not match the green ferns and yellow lichen-covered stone. He kept going up, the way becoming harder. He should rest before he made a mistake.

“That’s far enough,” a gruff-voiced person said.

Cade looked up.

A young fresh-faced man with a flintlock pistol aimed down lay on a cliff eleven meters higher up. The youngster wore a leather cap.

“Hands up,” he said. “Hands up, or I shoot.”

Cade debated even as he grunted. An insect must have bitten him on his arm. The spot stung sharply before the sensation faded away. Several second later, he swayed. Before he could decide about the command, the super-soldier from a different space-time continuum fell in a faint.

Chapter Twelve

Cade woke to the sound of crackling flames. He was disoriented and groggy. That was unlike him, he realized. Normally, he awoke fully alert. Why should he…? Oh. He remembered the space crash, airship, sky-raft and alien alligator. There had been Crag Raiders as well. He—

Cade opened his eyes wide, dancing flames helping him to see. He heard fat sizzling and smelled cooked meat. The smell tantalized his taste buds and caused his stomach to rumble.

Across the fire, a face turned toward him. He recognized it—the fresh-faced young man. Only…the person sitting on a flat rock turning the spitted meat over the fire was a woman, a rather beautiful one at that.

She had long dark hair that fell well past her shoulders now that it was loosed from under her leather cap. She had green eyes and white skin. The Crag Raiders had also been white, but tanned with leathery skin. That they spent their days outside under a hot sun showed. This one—this beauty—must have spent most of her time indoors. Her features were not delicate, but strong and white as porcelain. She was lovely, but not a wallflower, as the old saying went. She seemed well knit and was certainly busty, and wore pantaloons like the Crag Raiders. She must have been a tad taller than the tallest Crag Raider he’d faced earlier.

“Why do you stare at me like that?” she asked. “Am I ugly?”

“No,” Cade said. “Definitely not.”

Her lips parted into a smile as if he’d given her a great compliment. She had bright white teeth, and intelligence shined in her eyes.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Marcus Cade.”

She nodded, turning the spit. “That is a strong if odd name. Both your name and accent pronounce you an off-worlder. I saw you fight the others earlier and defeat four. Are you a champion-at-arms?”

“I’m a soldier from Battle Unit 175.”

Her head shifted back and the smile disappeared. “A soldier? You’re a vat-generated fighting thrall then?”

“Vat? No. I was born normally.”

“By a woman?”

“Of course,” Cade said with a laugh, bemused by the question. His mother had been beautiful and strong, teaching him his earliest lessons.

The woman seemed relieved by the answer. “I’m Velia De Lore, a princess of Val Dal Rock. Have you heard of it?”

“No,” Cade said.

“Lord Marek the Third has given us his colors.”

“Is Lord Marek an Eagle-Duke?”

Velia frowned. “That’s an old-fashioned way to say it. But I suppose you’re right.”

“You’re his daughter, is that it?”

Velia blushed, putting color in her cheeks. “What a thing to say. My father…was a warrior, a great one, you can be sure.”

With a groan, Cade sat up. He was on dry sand in what looked like a cave entrance. Past Velia, it was dark, without any stars to illuminate the night. The flames in the cave jumped and flickered, casting a play of light and shadows on the walls. He spied half a dozen long rifles on the sand together with gunpowder and pellet pouches. Had the woman brought those here?

“Are you sick?” she asked.

Cade began shaking his head. That brought his headache into focus. He touched his forehead, biting back a groan. He realized his mouth was dry.

“Is there any water?” he asked.

From the other side of the fire, she pointed at two neat rows of canteens. He noticed that she had long, red-painted fingernails. Raina had never painted her nails.

He dragged himself to a canteen—

“Not those,” Velia said.

He looked up at her.

“The others drank from those.”

Cade didn’t understand.

“The others died after drinking. You don’t want to die yet, do you?”

“No,” he said. “Is there a good canteen?”

She pointed at the second row.

Cade uncorked one of those canteens, sipped, swilling the water, and gulping hesitantly.

“That water’s fine,” she said. “I give you my word.”

He decided she could have slain him earlier when he’d been unconscious. Thus, he drank until he’d drained the canteen.

“Thanks,” he said. “I feel better already.”

“Don’t thank me,” she said. “You’re the one who rescued me. I should be thanking you.” She stared into his eyes, smiling provocatively.

Cade blinked several times, ingesting her obvious hint. While Velia was a buxom beauty, and clearly willing, she was not Raina. I’m fighting against the universe to get home. Thus, I can’t lie with this beauty and say I’m being faithful. So, although he appreciated the thought and the idea itself was pleasant to contemplate, he would refrain from any sexual dalliance with her.

“Did I say something wrong?” Velia asked, the smile slipping.

She’s a quick one. You’d better be careful, Cade. You know what they say about a woman scorned. “Why do you have poisoned canteens?”

“Oh. I see,” she said, relieved. “You don’t find me hideous. You just can’t believe that a princess like me might poison her kidnappers?”

There, you go. “It is unusual,” he said.

“Certainly so,” she said proudly, raising her chin. “But then, so am I.”

Cade managed a chuckle.

“Are you mocking me, sir?”

She’s touchy. What in the hell does she really want? “Not at all,” he said. “How did I get here?”

“I carried you.”

“Uh…you did? I’m not light.”

“Nor am I weak like most princesses of the storybooks. But you’re right. I found you astonishingly heavy, having to drag you at times. Why are you so heavy? You don’t look as if you should be.”

“My bones and muscles are denser and thus heavier than usual.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a joke?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“The fighting thralls from the man-makers are like that. Are you suggesting you’re like them?”

“Are these fighting thralls creatures, animals?” he asked.

“Not creatures. They’re men, modified men. They obey and fight with valor, but that is their genetic duty. It isn’t the same with a warrior. He fights for glory.”

She’s talking as if the thralls are Ultras. But that can’t possibly be, or they would run the planet. “What about the Crag Raiders?” he asked.

Velia spat into the fire where her saliva sizzled. “The raiders are pirates and slavers. They kidnapped me to become a harem girl for a fat sheik of the Eastern Isles. Can you believe that?”

Cade wasn’t sure what was the correct answer for that, so he said nothing.

“They said you fell from the heavens.”

“Who said?”

“My kidnappers. Were they right?”

He nodded.

“That makes you an off-worlder like I said. Are you from Graven Tarvoke, then?”

“No,” Cade said, surprised she knew about the free trader.

“Do you think I’m a stupid harem girl? I watched your face when you said that. Why do you lie to me?”

“I’m not lying. I’m simply surprised you know about Graven Tarvoke. He tried to destroy my spaceship, and we raced here to Coad to escape him.”

“That could be true, I suppose. I doubt anyone will believe you, though. I’m not sure I do.”

“Why?”

“I told you I’m a princess, a well-informed one, you’ll find. Atticus said your spaceship was going to strafe the surface. Just before your arrival, Tarvoke gave us an ultimatum, threatening the planet with stolen cyborg bombs. Atticus said the Southern Eagle-Dukes unlimbered their ancestral railguns to teach you a lesson, and through you Tarvoke. Atticus said much of the planet watched your spaceship plunge through the atmosphere. He wanted to get to it before the Rhunes came. He badly miscalculated, and now I suppose Atticus and his Crag Raiders are all dead.”

“They were in the airship?”

“Storm Rider,” she said.

“That was the airship’s name?”

Velia nodded.

“How is it you’re so well informed if you were kidnapped to become a harem girl?”

Velia turned the spit, examining the meat, perhaps using the seconds to think. “I listen and pay attention. You’d be surprised how much you can learn by doing that. Besides, Atticus hadn’t decided about selling me. You see, he was becoming fond of me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” she repeated, as if mocking. “You think Atticus and I slept together? Is that what your ‘oh’ means?”

Cade shrugged.

Velia scowled. “Do you think I’m a whore?”

Cade’s eyebrows lifted. He had thought that, but now he wasn’t sure. No. She was more than she said, maybe much more. He considered the poisoned canteens, and that he’d fallen unconscious when she’d first confronted him. An insect had bit his arm, he’d thought. He touched the arm, feeling the spot, a tiny mark. Maybe she’d used a knockout dart or something similar like he’d used on Durdane II when he’d attacked a Group Six station. This was definitely a dangerous, cunning woman. It would be foolish to antagonize her needlessly. She seemed willing to help. Why not keep her willing…if he could?

“If my words offended you,” Cade said, “I’m sorry.”

“You did offend me…but I accept your apology.” Velia turned the spit, appearing thoughtful. “Tell me. Is it wrong for a warrior to use his skills to escape his captors?”

“No.”

“Is it wrong for a cunning man to lie to his captors in order to win his freedom?”

Given the right conditions—Cade shook his head.

“Why then is a woman considered a whore for using her feminine wiles and inducements to manage her escape?”

“Your logic is flawless,” Cade said. “And yet, you raise a point.”

“What point?”

“Many men consider it wrong for a woman to do as you suggested, no matter what. At least, they would no longer want to marry her after she slept with her captors in order to trick them.”

“And you? What do you think?”

Cade squinted into the flames. “I wouldn’t fault her tactics. At the same time, I myself wouldn’t have intercourse with someone in order to win my escape. Sexual intimacy is for marriage alone.”

“So, you’d judge the woman harshly who used such…tactics?”

“I wouldn’t want to marry her, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“Marry? Marry? Why do you keep bringing up marriage. Are you married?”

“Yes,” Cade said.

Velia’s eyes softened. “Was she in the spaceship?”

“No,” Cade said, his voice hardening.

“Ah. Did your wife leave you, perhaps staying with Graven Tarvoke?”

Cade stared at Velia, annoyed.

She held his stare for several seconds, finally dropping her gaze. “Why are you angry with me for asking?”

He didn’t answer, but went to the weapons on the sand, examining them. He saw several braces of flintlock pistols, many of them still in a green sash. He drew one out, noticing the pistol was primed and loaded. On impulse, he took a sash and draped it over himself. This one had four loaded pistols.

Next, he went to the cutlasses, drawing them one by one and testing their balance. He chose his favorite and belted the scabbard around his waist, sliding the cutlass into it. The former cutlass and scabbard on his waist had been removed earlier.

He noticed that his boot-knife was still in place, though.

“Now that I’m in your power, your control,” Velia asked, “what are you going to do to me?”

Cade regarded her. It looked as if she’d unbuttoned several of her highest buttons while he checked the weapons, exposing more of her cleavage. She was well endowed indeed and smiled in an inviting manner.

He cleared his throat, focusing on her face. “How far is Val Dal Rock?”

“Are you asking if someone would seek you out to avenge me if you had your way with me?”

Damn, woman, quit making this so hard. “No,” he said. “I was wondering how difficult it would be for me to escort you home.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding crestfallen. “Val Dal Rock is nearly half a world away. Atticus was a far-ranging Crag Raider. In truth, he was hired by Lord Magnus.”

“Is Lord Magnus near?”

“Lord Magnus is a fallen Eagle-Duke, many say a renegade. He no longer strives to master unique skills but to gain political ascendancy over as much of Coad as he can. Many call him conqueror. Others say he is a butcher, a lover of bloodletting. A few think he is a shill for the Rhunes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Rhunes dislike dealing directly with humans. Many say that a Rhune will kill a human on sight because of that, detesting their presence because human odors are repellent to Rhunes.”

“Have the Rhunes tried to exterminate the people on Coad?”

“No, no. That is not their way. Some scholars say that Rhunes find killing repugnant, but I don’t believe that.”

Cade considered that. “The Rhunes on the sky-rafts had no problems killing everyone on the airship.”

“Don’t you see? The sky-rafts killed from afar. The Rhunes didn’t have to witness the dying in person or smell the stench of spilled gore. They saved themselves from having to deal with humans face to face and thus kept their purity intact.”

“You’re not making sense,” Cade said. “Given what you said, why don’t the Rhunes use missiles against the humans?”

“They’ve tried in the past. That’s why the Eagle-Dukes keep their ancestral railguns ready. The railguns can knock down incoming missiles. And some of the Eagle-Dukes have ancient missile launchers. They would fire nuclear-tipped torpedoes at Rhune hideaways, killing many and poisoning the oceans for decades.”

Cade sat on a flat rock before the fire, warming his hands over the flames. “Let me get this straight. Eagle-Dukes have railguns, missile launchers and nuclear-tipped torpedoes, and yet a man like Atticus flies around in an airship with flintlock-armed raiders conquering places.”

“Railguns and torpedoes are ancient ancestral weapons,” Velia said slowly as if explaining realities to a simpleton. “They are irreplaceable. The Eagle-Dukes keep them in their strongest castles, protecting Coad from Rhune domination. But in everyday affairs, men use regular weapons, those they know how to make, like swords and flintlocks.”

“Does Lord Magnus have any ancestral weapons?”

“Don’t you understand what it means to be a fallen Eagle-Duke?”

“That Magnus lost his ancestral weapons?”

“Those and his castles,” Velia said. “Now, across many years and dealing with those like Atticus, Lord Magnus has built a conquering mercenary host. Some say he seeks to capture Eagle-Duke castles and ancestral weapons, regaining his lost honor. What scholars are undecided upon is if he does this for the Rhunes or for himself.”

“If the Eagle-Dukes fear Magnus so, why don’t they use their railguns on him?”

Velia tilted her head, giving Cade a strange look. “Railguns are heavy stationary weapons, used primarily against orbital vehicles like your spaceship or space missiles. They can also shoot down incoming missiles or sky-rafts flying too high. None has ever used a railgun against a land army. How would an Eagle-Duke transport or power it?”

“How does he power one in his castle?”

Velia nodded. “Each railgun is powered by ancient atomics, or so the legends say. The atomics are in solid lead buildings, attended to by mechanic-priests. Some atomics fail over the centuries, some have leaked and poisoned the greatest castles, killing everyone there. Graven Tarvoke says he could repair those, but I think it’s a vain boast. Some say the Rhunes fear humans will return to poisoned castles and drop the leaking atomics into the sea for revenge.”

Cade eyed Velia, wondering at her fount of knowledge.

She lowered her head and touched her chest as if embarrassed. It intensified the wonder of her cleavage. “What is it, milord? Your gaze is heavy and intense. I’m powerless in your presence.”

“I doubt that.”

Velia looked up as if surprised.

Cade indicated the spitted meat, the weapons and canteens. “You seem uncommonly resourceful. You have beauty, wits and strength of will. And you have deep knowledge concerning world affairs. That’s impressive. What I don’t understand is your manner.”

“Your wife is a domineering, demanding woman?”

“Not in the least,” Cade said. “I loved her, and she loved me.”

“Why do you say that as if it was in the past?”

Cade frowned as he envisioned Raina. He remembered her as she’d been when he’d climbed the board steps of the platform to claim her as his prize. She had stood proudly in her long white dress and her with long blonde hair and flower crown. They had made glorious love after the marriage ceremony. Raina was his flower of loveliness, his rose of delight. Until death do us part, they had promised each other. If there were beguiling women in his path like Velia who would indulge a roll in the hay—Cade shook his head. He was a soldier. He did his duty in military affairs. Could he do any less for love?

There was something else to consider. Velia was a mystery, and she wanted to ensnare him. The question was why. Cade did not believe she was smitten because she’d seen him fight. Well, maybe she was smitten in a different way: seeing him fight and seeking to use his martial prowess for something. He was not like other men. Cade knew that.

“I see,” Velia said softly.

“What was that?” Cade asked, looking up.

“You must be an officer, a dedicated warrior of noble repute. Did you take an oath of celibacy perhaps, before Tarvoke let you go?”

“Why have you raised your voice?” Cade asked.

She peered at him closely, almost as if trying to memorize his face. “Listen to me, Marcus Cade,” she whispered. “I was hoping to get away before Lord Magnus sent others—” She shook her head. “I have a signal device. It just alerted me. Raiders have landed nearby. They’ll be here any moment, drawn by the firelight. I’ll act one way, but you must know that I secretly desire to go away with you. You’re a man, Marcus Cade, a man like no other. I will have you one way or another. On that, you can be sure. Clearly, your wife is elsewhere. Well, sir, Velia De Lore is going to make you hers. What I’m saying, warrior, is that I will help you later to escape. I’ve grown tired of mercenaries like Atticus. They’re swine, without real honor like my father and Marek the Third. Nod if you understand.”

Cade nodded, and from outside he heard the crunch of boots on rocks and dirt. He saw torch or lantern light a moment later. Then, ten or more armed men appeared before the cave entrance. They carried and aimed long rifles and blunderbusses at him as a short man lead the way. The short man wore tall black boots, a red coat, cape and a fancy green-feathered hat. He wore black gloves and clutched the front of a broad belt. The short, bearded man flashed his teeth in a roguish smile.

“Velia!” he cried. “You’ve captured a spaceman.”

She nodded.

“And he allowed you your clothes,” the short man said with a laugh.

Velia laughed with him even as she buttoned the top of her blouse closed.

“Ah-ha!” the short man cried, drawing a rapier. “I’m too late. Did he already have his way with you, my dear?”

“Yes,” Velia said boldly.

The armed men laughed, many poking an elbow against a neighbor.

The short man approached Cade. He touched the sharp tip of the rapier against Cade’s chest. “You are my prisoner, sir,” the man said.

Cade said nothing.

The man leered at him. “I am Sir Dorian Blue, Captain of the Day Star. I’m here to take you to Lord Magnus so he can torture Tarvoke’s secrets from you. Will you resist us?”

Velia covertly and slightly shook her head.

Cade saw that and eyed the short man, realizing Dorian Blue relished the idea of running him through with the rapier. There was some resemblance between him and Velia. Were they brother and sister, or cousins?

“I’ll go with you,” Cade said.

“Really?” Dorian asked. He moved the rapier tip up against Cade’s chin, flicking his wrist and nicking the skin.

Cade did not flinch or touch his chin, even as a spot of blood welled. He understood the game.

Dorian raised an eyebrow, hesitated a moment, then sheathed his rapier and snapped his fingers.

A few men set down their rifles and rushed forward, ripping the brace of pistols and cutlass from Cade and shackling him with stiff leather ankle and wrist-cuffs. He had a moment to eye Velia. Had she really poisoned those from the Storm Rider? Could he trust anything she’d said? At the moment, Cade had no choice, shoved from behind so he staggered out of the cave, his leather bonds creaking.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, Cade squinted at sudden brightness as the wooden hatch to his prison rose. The men had secured him in the bottom cargo hold of a gondola last night, locking his bonds to a leather ring attached to a reinforced bulkhead.

Now, Sir Dorian Blue jumped down into the cargo hold with him. He wore the same garments as yesterday, including the fancy hat with its green-dyed feather.

The swaying motion of the gondola, muffled shouts and sudden up-and-down shifts had convinced Cade the Day Star was buoyant, heading out over the ocean, he supposed.

Dorian held up a key as he stared at Cade. There was mockery in the man’s eyes. “Velia says you deny being from Graven Tarvoke.”

Cade gave a curt nod.

Dorian tucked the key behind his broad leather belt and bowed at the waist. “Excuse me, sir. I’ve forgotten my manners. You must be hungry and thirsty.”

Cade remained silent to the obvious baiting. He was a prisoner. A prisoner’s duty was to regain his freedom. That meant waiting for the right opportunity and lulling them if he could. And then what? No. He refused to despair. He would doggedly take one step at a time, driving for the goal of freedom and a spaceship to find his way back to his universe. That meant learning as much as he could as fast as could, which meant he had to get them talking about things he needed to know.

Dorian chuckled, looking around. He dragged a wooden crate near, sitting on the edge, raising a leg and resting a booted ankle on the other knee.

“Shed!” he shouted.

A coarse-faced man peered down through the hatch.

“Toss me a flagon and a hunk of cheese,” Dorian said.

A leather flagon sailed down, which Dorian caught. A paper-wrapped object sailed down next. Dorian caught it as well.

“Catch,” Dorian said, tossing the leather bottle to Cade.

Cade’s bonds creaked as he caught the flagon. He pulled out the cork with his teeth and sniffed the strongly alcoholic contents, grog, no doubt.

“I’d prefer water,” Cade said.

“That’s not a warrior’s answer, but a soldier’s,” Dorian said.

“I am a soldier.”

“Are you now? That’s rather interesting. Do you know about the Eagle-Dukes’ fighting thralls?”

“Velia said they’re produced in a man-maker.”

“True enough. You’re really not from Tarvoke, eh?”

“The free trader tried to destroy my spaceship.”

“I doubt that, sir, as he would have done it if he’d tried. Tarvoke controls space.”

“Why did he send the threatening message just before our ship arrived in orbit?”

Dorian reached out, pulling the flagon from Cade and taking a swig, smacking his lips and shrugging.

“So the Eagle-Dukes would fire their railguns at my spaceship, which is exactly what happened.”

“You’re saying Tarvoke sent the message to trick the Eagle-Dukes?”

“No. In order to destroy my spaceship.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because Tarvoke wanted my ship,” Cade said. “It had an Intersplit engine.”

“And what does an Intersplit engine do exactly?”

Would it hurt telling Dorian? Cade didn’t see how. He might actually learn more this way. “It allows a spaceship to travel faster than the speed of light.”

The man frowned, taking another slug from the flagon.

“Do you realize this is a single system pocket universe?” Cade asked.

Dorian stared at him, and his left eye twitched. There was something odd about it. The pupil almost seemed glassy. It hadn’t before this moment.

“Damn eye,” Dorian muttered, rubbing it. “Took a wound there once. It acts up sometimes. Ignore it.”

Cade filed the comment for later, as it struck him as odd. “What do you conceive of as Tarvoke’s purpose for his supposed warning?”

Gingerly, Dorian touched the left eyelid. The good humor seemed to have drained out of him. He removed his hand from the lid, saying, “You’re trouble, sir. You’ve stirred my sister to lust and stupid maneuvering. She played a bad hand yesterday. I think it’s your fault.”

“By bad hand, you mean her poisoning some of her captors?”

“She called them captors?” Dorian asked.

“I take it she lied about that.”

“Watch your tongue, sir.” Once more, Dorian touched the left eyelid and then shrugged. It took him a moment before he regarded Cade. “Tell me honestly, sir, do you desire my sister?”

“Is she really your sister?”

“Ah-ha!” Dorian cried, his good humor returning. “You think I’ve come down here to run you through so I can have her to myself. Well, sir, she’s my half-sister. But I’m not an Eastern Isle barbarian. I don’t mate my cousins or half-sisters so I can breed a race of savage, defective louts. We understand genetics in the mountains, if not old-style morality. It seems you’re quite the preacher. You told Velia a song and dance about fidelity to your distant wife. That only whetted her lust, of course. I’m beginning to think that’s yer game.”

“What’s yours?” Cade asked.

Dorian frowned as his fingers tightened around the throat of the flagon. He laughed a moment later, lifting the leather and taking another healthy swing.

“What’s mine, ye ask?” Dorian’s accent shifted to Crag Raider from yesterday, making him sound cruder and stupider. “What’s me game in the middle of a mercenary host of raiders? One, I’m a noble by me mother, a fallen Eagle-Duke fourth removed. Ye might think that’s one generation too far, but trust me, I do not think the same.”

“Is that Velia’s mother as well?”

“I should slit yer throat for asking, as yer insulting the memory of me dear departed mother.”

“That wasn’t my intent.”

“Velia and I both have the same scheming father, a guttersnipe bastard with a face like an angel, the ladies used to say. He had a cock like a donkey and humped anything that moved. He was clever, ye can bet, and he had secret communication with Captain Graven Tarvoke!”

“Oh?”

“Velia told me how ye slew the last of the Storm Rider’s crew. She says yer a champion at arms. Is that true?”

“I can fight.”

Dorian’s head jerked back, the left eye becoming glassy again. The glassiness only lasted a moment this time. The man breathed deeply, and the roguish smile reappeared. “You can fight, you say,” as he reverted to his original way of speaking. “But can you woo a lass so she loves you the next morning?”

Cade opened his mouth, perplexed about Dorian’s strange behavior. “You’re talking about Velia.”

“She’s smitten, Marcus Cade. She wants you, and she wants me to take you into our confidence. I’m not so sure. For one thing, you have funny ideas about wives.” Dorian snapped his fingers. “If wives are good, have a dozen, I say. Make Velia your wife, if you want—if that will make your conscience sleep.”

Before Cade could stop himself, he said, “I don’t want my conscience to sleep, but to warn me when I’m about to do something immoral.”

“Immoral!” Dorian laughed. “What a concept. I’ll tell you what’s immoral: failing to grab life by the tits. Grab the gusto every second you can because tomorrow you die.”

Cade looked away. This was getting him nowhere. He wasn’t an intriguer like Halifax, but a soldier, a fighter. He pulled at the leather ring, sick of the confinement and tired of talking to the crude Sir Dorian. Maybe he should try a direct approach.

He regarded Dorian. “Look, if you help me, I’ll help you.”

“What sort of help do you be wanting, Mister Moral Marcus Cade?”

“The Rhunes captured my friend when they took my spaceship. I plan to rescue him.”

Dorian stared at Cade, and instead of laughing, the life seemed to go out of him. He shook his head a moment later. “You have balls, I’ll say that. Not a lick of sense, but balls of brass. Saying that though—” Dorian scratched his beard. “No, no, you almost had me, Cade. I almost believed you. It’s clear that you’re from Graven Tarvoke. He’s the trickiest of bastards, maneuvering Rhune and Eagle-Duke against each other and toying with the mythic cyborgs. Now, he’s sent you, his cat’s-paw. He made sure you had a rough landing so we’d trust you.”

“That’s absurd. It’s a miracle I’m alive.”

“I might believe you, Cade, but you try to palm off the damnedest lies. You don’t want to screw Velia because of your wife.” Dorian laughed, slapping a knee. “I can smell Tarvoke’s cunning stink on you. You’re the kind of player he’d like to insert onto Coad. Velia must have understood that.” Dorian chuckled, shaking his head. “You almost had me with your story about Tarvoke trying to sabotage you with his message.”

Cade bit his lower lip to keep from calling Dorian an idiot. What an annoying twit! I’d box his ears if I were free. Struggling to control his temper, he said, “Did Velia tell you about the size of my spaceship?”

“She did.”

“That proves my story, as my ship wasn’t big enough to carry cyborg bombs. Thus, I couldn’t strafe the surface. Thus, Tarvoke lied.”

Dorian scratched his beard again. “What’s your point?”

Cade sat back against the wickerwork bulkhead. It was foolish arguing with a twit—no, with a psychotic rogue. Realizing this checked his temper and helped him think. What had Dorian’s head jerks, glassy left eye, switch in accents and apparent shifts in intelligence meant? Would an airship captain like Dorian Blue really know so much about Tarvoke? If Velia hadn’t been a captive, why had she poisoned the landing crew? The crashed Descartes must have had something to do with that. The reality was that he was stranded and alone. Did Rhunes or Eagle-Dukes have any means of getting into space? Did Tarvoke have a way of spiriting someone off the planet?

Cade closed his eyes as despair crept into his psyche. The odds he could get back to his space-time continuum… Be a hero, Force Leader. Laugh at the odds. If you’ve already lost, you can’t lose more by trying.

Cade inhaled, expanding his chest and opening his eyes. He raised his bound hands. “Why are these still on me?”

“Because you’re my prisoner,” Dorian said. “Lord Magnus will want to question you.”

That was an obvious threat. But something about the way Dorian said that… Cade played a hunch, nodding. “That’s fine by me. In fact, I welcome his questions.”

Dorian studied him a few seconds longer before shouting for Shed. The coarse-faced man reappeared at the hatch. Dorian told him to bring a canteen of water.

Soon, Cade drank from the canteen, slaking his thirst. He accepted the tossed hunk of cheese, devouring it, not realizing until then how hungry he’d been.

“With such a healthy appetite, you should be willing to bed a dozen women,” Dorian said. “But I’ve changed my mind about you again, Cade. You have a point about your small spaceship. Cyborg bombs are huge. So why are you here then, if you’re not Tarvoke’s spy? I’ve come to believe you’re a philosopher or scholar. Many of them have bizarre ideas. And that must account for your insisting that you’re a soldier instead of a proper warrior. Philosophers have the crankiest ideals. Ah, yes, now I understand this preoccupation about your wife. Amazing really. I think your size and apparent speed fooled me. I thought you a warrior first. Now, I see, you love ideas more than action.”

Cade almost laughed at the stupidity. No one had ever said that about him before.

“This gives my problem a new twist,” Dorian said. “Ideas, ideals—yes, I’ll do it, trusting that your philosopher ways will help you understand that your best chance is with us. Here, catch.”

Cade caught his boot-dagger, sliding it back where it belonged. Next, he caught the key, unlocking his shackles and standing. Dorian’s behavior was more than just psychotic, but unbalanced and whimsical.

“Feel better?”

“Much,” Cade said.

“Have you ever been on Coad before?”

Cade shook his head.

“Then, you’ve never ridden on an airship, have you?”

“No.”

“You’re in for a treat, sir. Follow me.”

Bemused that his talking had worked after a fashion, Cade followed the captain of the Day Star, climbing out of the cargo hold. The gondola was constructed of wickerwork, which he’d already known. It contained a bottom hold and a middle and upper deck. The hold held the cargo, the middle deck the cribs and cabins for the crew and passengers and the upper deck for the diesel engine, fuel tank, propellers, steering compartment and outer walkway. There were a few rocket launchers securely tied to the sides. From what Dorian told him, the rockets were crude weapons with a fuse.

Dorian went to a launcher, putting a hand on it. “We use these on enemy airships. The rocket races at the enemy vessel while the fuse causes the gunpowder warhead to explode, hopefully causing the enemy balloon to burn.”

“And kill everyone aboard the enemy gondola?” asked Cade.

“Airship battles are usually double massacres, at least when the airships move in close enough to hit each other. I’ve been in one such battle.” Dorian stared out to sea. “It was horrifying. Started drinking in earnest after that. The battle showed me that life was short and should always be enjoyed to the fullest every bloody moment.”

Cade reassessed once more, as he well understood about battle fatigue, having seen it many times and felt its stirrings after a gruesome campaign. Seeing your friends burn and hearing their screams would unhinge most people.

He clutched the wicker rail and leaned over, looking past the outer walkway that circled the upper gondola. The ocean was approximately eighty meters down. It was calm down there. He spied underwater reefs and schools of small fish. He straightened, looking around. All Cade could see was green ocean water in the distance.

“How do you know which way to travel?” Cade asked.

“You don’t have compasses in your universe?”

“We do.” Cade pointed in the direction of travel. “That way is Lord Magnus’ camp?”

“Of course,” Dorian said. “Why do you ask?”

Cade didn’t reply, for out of the corner of his vision, he noticed that Dorian’s left eye had become glassy again and the captain’s manner more alert. Just what did the left eye signify? Back in the day, during The War, he would have known of course—

Cade’s mouth opened in surprise, and he silently berated himself for stupidity. During The War, such a glassy eye would have meant a person carried an interior cyborg monitor. There would be one other telltale sign with a person carrying such an eye-monitor, and that would be a minuscule antenna and power unit to broadcast the data. Was that why Dorian always wore his hat? Yet, if that was true, that meant cyborgs were on the planet. And if cyborgs were on the planet, why hadn’t they conquered and converted everything already? This was a low-tech world. It lacked the weapons to defeat cyborg troopers.

“You’ve fallen strangely silent, sir.”

The soldier quelled a sudden pall of fear. Cyborgs meant chop shops and conversion into the enemy. He had to get off the planet, but he wouldn’t do that by losing control. It was time to lie—tactically.

Cade pointed at the green horizon. “You were right before. This is an astonishing vista. It’s taken my breath—and my voice—away.”

“Ah,” Dorian said.

“How long is it until we reach Lord Magnus’s camp?”

“Several more days,” Dorian said, glancing at him sidelong.

Cade nodded. “If I wasn’t worried for my good friend, Dr. Halifax, I could relax. Air travel is so serene.”

“Your friend was in the spaceship?”

“He was.”

“Then you must forget about him,” Dorian said, “as he is probably already dead.”

Chapter Fourteen

Dr. Halifax wasn’t dead, but he was in a great deal of pain as he sat in the scout’s piloting chair with a broken collarbone. He was dehydrated, hungry and possibly delirious. For much of the night—an intensely dark night without a moon and stars—he had been shifting in and out of consciousness.

The sun had finally risen high enough to shine through the open window into Halifax’s face. That brought a modicum of lucidity to the doctor. He blinked repeatedly and tried to sit up. He groaned instead, and the pain wakened him further. He heard a strange whine, and a lurch to the floating wreck of a spaceship caused him to concentrate.

What did he know about the present situation? The scout had reached the planet Coad. He was alive. Cade was gone. The scout floated through the air, lowering now.

Straining himself, Halifax managed to peer up through the window. He spied the cables attached to the scout’s outer hull. He saw the chrome housings and a raft bottom over each of them. The chrome housings obviously enclosed some kind of anti-gravity device. Someone on Coad had picked up the wrecked Descartes. The flying rafts were lowering the wreck—

From outside the ship, Halifax heard sloshing waves. Yes, he recalled a vast green ocean. Had the sky-rafts brought the wrecked scout to a dock of some kind?

A sky-raft moved in front of the sun, blocking it. The accompanying shadow seemed to cause Halifax to drowse. He no longer heard waves, heard anything until a loud metallic clank made him sit up. He tried to understand what it meant that the sky was gone, with a metal ceiling in its place. Was the wrecked scout inside a hangar?

He raised an arm, imploring in a whisper for someone to help him, but no one heard the faint cry.

Halifax slumped in the seat: dehydrated, no longer aware he was hungry and slipping into a possible coma. He wasn’t dead yet by a long shot, but maybe it would have been better for him if he had died during the crash.

***

Faint garbled words invaded the doctor’s dream. He had no idea what the words meant. Then, something cool touched his collarbone. The grind of broken bone ends snapped him out of the dream into a bizarre, painful reality.

The doctor stared up into a gaunt face with a shaven pate and sunken eyes and cheeks, making it seem like a skull. The black eyes were like inky dots, intense and intimidating, filled with penetrating intelligence. Halifax was aware that the skeletal man touched his collarbone. Yes, the person had a shape like a man. He wore a black robe, was reed-thin with skeletal fingers, the flesh like dried parchment.

The doctor had no idea why the fingertips felt so cool. That changed in seconds as fiery heat invaded the collarbone. The wonder of it was that the heat felt good, refreshing and restorative. The pain began to recede until it completely vanished.

“Strength,” the skeletal man whispered.

As if by magic, strength flooded Halifax’s frame. The delirium departed as hunger faded. He was damn thirsty, though. The magic wasn’t strong enough to fix that.

“Water,” Halifax said. “I’m terribly thirsty.”

“I’m sure,” the man whispered. He leaned over more, unhooking the restraints that still bound Halifax to his chair. “If you’ll come with me, I can find you refreshment.”

As the man backed away, Halifax sat up, touching his collarbone. It didn’t hurt. He psyched himself up and pushed against the collarbone. There was no pain at all.

Halifax stared in wonder at the skeletal, black-robed individual. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Why should it?”

“It’s broken.”

“Not anymore,” the man said.

“You healed it?” Halifax asked in wonder.

The man said nothing.

Halifax stared into the other’s eyes before finally dropping his gaze. The other had the form of a man, but the inky eyes belied that, and the man was so skinny, as if he lacked even an ounce of fat. There was something else: a sense of vast intelligence and power, real power. Could the man—this person—really have healed him with a touch?

“May I ask you your name?” Halifax said.

“Call me…Uldin.”

Halifax nodded. “Where am I?”

“You are thirsty.”

“Yes, yes, very thirsty,” the doctor said.

“Then follow me,” Uldin said.

Halifax followed the other, aware as he left the wrecked scout that Uldin had asked the question to make him heel, to follow. The knowledge of that remained even as he stared at the hangar bay. It was metal with a great sealed hatch ten meters above. Strangely, droplets formed along a crack between the two great closed hatches.

“Where are we?” Halifax asked.

“Underwater,” Uldin whispered without turning around.

The answer startled Halifax. Underwater? Was that why it dripped through the tiny crack between the hatches? There was something else knocking at his thoughts. Eagle-Dukes would not live underwater.

“Are you a Rhune?”

Uldin halted, turning around to face the doctor. There was no smile on the skull-like face. The eyes burned blackly, however. “What do you know about Rhunes?”

Halifax shook his head, afraid. “Nothing, really. I only heard the name.”

Uldin studied him, finally nodding. Without another word, he turned, heading for wherever he had been going before.

Halifax took one last look at the droplets pooling up there on the crack. Then he ducked his head as he followed Uldin through an open hatch into a narrow corridor. The corridor’s construction—he might have been on a spaceship. The route was longer than the doctor liked. He was parched, and yet he sweated in the muggy corridor. By the time he entered another chamber, the doctor’s garments were soaked with sweat.

Uldin’s long black robe was dry. Did he lack sweat glands? The possible Rhune indicated a large wooden table. On the middle of the heavy table was a white bowl. In the bowl floated a dozen red petals.

Was Halifax supposed to drink from there? He went around the table, reaching for the bowl.

“What are you doing?” Uldin whispered.

Halifax looked up. “I need water,” he said.

“Not from the bowl. Sit.”

Halifax pulled out a chair and sat. He noticed that three of the walls held floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books, and round nooks for tightly rolled scrolls. Was this a library?

A door opened, and a hideous, short ogre-man ambled into the room. He had a human form and was immensely broad of shoulder and deep of chest. His long arms, knotted with muscle, dangled almost to the floor. His head was thrust forward, and he had a heavy ridge of bone over his small eyes. He wore tan garments and black boots. His one ornament was a chrome-colored collar around his thick neck. He carried a tray with a pitcher of water and a glass.

The ogre-man set the tray on the table near Halifax and turned to go.

“Pour him a glass,” Uldin said in a whisper.

The ogre of a man—a modified man, Halifax supposed—halted. He shivered and hesitated to obey.

“Must I retrain you?” Uldin asked in his sibilant whisper.

The man-creature turned, picked up the pitcher and poured water into the glass. He set the pitcher on the tray and handed Halifax the glass. At no point did the creature—the ogre-man—look up.

“Thank you,” Halifax said.

“No,” Uldin whispered, without a trace of anger. “Don’t thank him. Thank me, as he is but an extension of my will, and it is thus I who gave you the water.”

Halifax hesitated and thought better of resisting the man, or Rhune, who had healed him. “Thank you, Uldin,” he said, raising the glass and then draining the water. Oh, but that tasted good.

He set the glass down.

“More?” asked Uldin.

“I can pour,” Halifax said.

“More?” Uldin asked.

“Yes, please,” Halifax said.

“You heard my guest,” Uldin said.

Once more, the ogre-like man poured for the doctor. Halifax drained that as well.

“Go,” Uldin said, “but leave the water.”

The man-creature departed.

Uldin was still standing. He regarded the doctor. “I’m a Rhune, as you suggested earlier. Does that surprise you?”

The former mercenary case officer for Earth Intelligence said smoothly, “I’m too stunned by events to let anything else surprise me.”

“Hmm. Let me assess the possibilities and facts. You consider yourself clever, and perhaps you are. Just before your ship reached orbit, Tarvoke sent a message. He said you would strafe the surface. Clearly, the message was for the Eagle-Dukes so they would fire at you with their ancestral weapons. They did, but your craft survived, which was something of a marvel. You were in the pilot’s chair, so I imagine the ship’s survival was due to your flying skills.”

“That and luck,” Halifax said, intimidated.

“Don’t interrupt me,” Uldin whispered without any change in inflection. But the menace was there just the same. “My acolytes are testing your craft even now. It has different lines from Graven Tarvoke’s vessels, so it may be from a different space-time continuum from his. I shall know soon enough.”

“Wait a minute,” Halifax said. “You know about space-time continuums?”

Uldin focused his full attention upon Halifax. The doctor could not hold that gaze, but dropped his to stare at the table.

Don’t provoke him. Bow and scrape, and see what happens.

“I suspect that you possess a Class Three mind,” Uldin whispered. “That would make you the smartest man upon Coad, possibly the equal of Graven Tarvoke. This is rare indeed. The probability of that happening in this instance—”

“I don’t mean any disrespect, sir, but what class of mind do you possess?”

“Interesting,” Uldin said. “You fear to anger me. Don’t you realize that Rhunes do not know anger?”

“You’re not human, then?”

“I’m a Rhune. We are as different a species from Homo sapiens as you are from lemurs.”

The boast settled the doctor’s jitters. He didn’t believe it, of course, as he knew himself far more cunning than anyone he’d ever met. Keep him talking, and keep learning.

“Are you saying that you’ve advanced beyond Homo sapiens but were once like us?” Halifax asked meekly.

“For a Class Three mind, that is an astute guess,” Uldin whispered. “Rhunes are higher and different from Homo sapiens as Homo sapiens are from Nyanzapithecus alesi.”

“Uh, I’ve never heard of them.”

“Nyanzapithecus alesi was a breed of Miocene ape from Africa. They were the common ancestor of humans and chimpanzees, one they shared many millions of years ago.”

“Oh.”

“Dr. Halifax, I’m not sure you’re fully utilizing your Class Three mind. I’ve just given you amazing data. Can’t you extrapolate from what I just said?”

This was happening too fast, Uldin a bit too intimidating. “I don’t understand,” he admitted.

“This is rare indeed. I may have erred concerning you. Perhaps I should reclassify you to a Class Four mind. It is a pity. I’d hoped—”

Halifax looked up, astonished, as a realization hit him. “You know about Africa and prehistoric Earth. Yet, you spoke about space-time continuums.”

“Go on.”

“I-I don’t know. I suppose—oh. Rhunes…traveled here from our continuum but have become trapped in the pocket universe.”

“You’re correct about that. Continue.”

Halifax shook his head. “I don’t know enough to extrapolate further. You’ve suggested that Rhunes are superior to humans.”

“I stated that as a truth because it is true.”

The idea Uldin could be right rattled Halifax’s confidence. A thought came to his rescue.

“Wouldn’t such evolutionary advancements take millions upon millions of years to achieve?”

“Some would think so.”

“But…” Halifax frowned until he brightened. “This isn’t a matter of evolution, but design. You Rhunes have experimented upon yourselves in order to turn yourselves into what you are presently.”

“A crude way to say it, but why should I object to essential truth?”

Halifax tried to think through the implications. Uldin had healed him earlier. The Rhune had done so with a touch. His collarbone had turned incredibly hot during the process.

The doctor put his hands on the table, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his mind around the bewildering concepts. “It would appear that Rhunes are experimental men given vast power. I don’t understand how anyone could mutate people like that, giving them godlike abilities.”

“What you can or cannot conceive is immaterial. Your spacecraft is the thing. You could be important as well, but it would have nothing to do with your intelligence or lack thereof.”

“Could you enlighten me?” Halifax asked meekly.

“Perhaps later,” Uldin whispered. “At the moment, I’m awaiting confirmation.”

Halifax tried his hardest to decipher what Uldin meant by that, but he could not. He didn’t know if he should ask about Cade. Uldin clearly thought highly of himself, about Rhunes, in general. Was that arrogance or simple truth? If Uldin was so superior, why was he sticking around to talk to such an inferior like him?

Am I missing something? Why do I feel as if I am?

A chime sounded.

Uldin nodded.

A door opened, and another Rhune in a black robe entered. This one was younger than Uldin, but had the same thinness. He had short black hair and shining instead of dark eyes. His cheeks and eyes were also sunken. He had a symbol on the front of his robe, a bright dot with outward radiating wavy lines.

“The vessel is aligned with our former space-time continuum,” the new Rhune said in a low voice. “It is, however, at least one thousand years ahead of us in colloquial time units.”

“What about him?” asked Uldin, as he pointed at Halifax.

The new Rhune removed a small box from a sleeve and advanced upon the doctor. The Rhune aimed the box at Halifax and pressed a button so the box made warbling sounds.

Halifax sat utterly still, petrified.

The box switched to a beep.

The new Rhune examined a tiny screen on the box, saying, “He’s a match, Magister.”

Uldin nodded, which seemed like a profound gesture, one of deep feeling. And yet, there was no change of expression on the Rhune’s face.

“May I present another datum?” the new Rhune asked.

Uldin inclined his head.

“The space-wreck contains an Intersplit engine,” the other Rhune said in a blank voice. “The engine is damaged, slagged in places, but Otho believes he can repair and then duplicate it.”

“So…” Uldin said. “The project starts to become achievable. Did Tarvoke understand that? Is that why he tricked the Eagle-Dukes into firing upon the ship?” He fixed his level gaze upon the doctor.

Halifax looked up. There was something deadly in the Rhune’s gaze, as the inky eyes swirled with power. Halifax dearly wanted to look away but could not. The eyes grew—or so it seemed—until they filled the doctor’s vision. The hypnotic swirling made his mind throb and then turned it numb. Halifax tried to object but couldn’t speak. The “I” of his ego plummeted into a dark mental haze. At that point, his vision dimmed, and the vast swirling blackness of Uldin’s orbs shrank. The doctor now saw Uldin as from a great distance. There was a sharp pain in his mind. Halifax resisted. The sharp pain struck again and again. The doctor was unaware that he was rubbing his forehead. He thought he could hear himself droning on and on about something. He struggled to know what and soon realized he spoke about what had happened to Marcus Cade and him since entering the Vellani Rift. Halifax wanted to weep. He wanted to stop talking. Instead, he continued to speak in a droning voice, telling Magister Uldin everything.

What did it all mean? Halifax didn’t know even as his voice became hoarse from his long talking stint. The Rhune had said he was superior to men as men were to ancient Nyanzapithecus alesi. So far, Uldin had proven correct about that. Yet, how had Rhunes come about? Halifax was certain he was missing something. Would Uldin give him time to figure it out, or discard him like a used carton?

One thing bothered Halifax. If Rhunes were so superior, why had they allowed the Eagle-Dukes to do what they had to the Descartes? And why did the Rhunes let Tarvoke rule space?

There was a mystery here, possibly several, and if he could figure them out, he might yet find a way to profit from all this.

As Halifax wondered these things from his deep mental haze, he continued to babble about what he knew concerning the trip to Coad to Magister Uldin.

Chapter Fifteen

Cade kept a hand on the bamboo rail as he strolled around the gondola on the outer walkway. The wickerwork material at his feet creaked at his passage. He looked down at the ocean. He could jump and survive the drop. Where would he swim to after that? Perhaps sea-beasts would devour him before he swam too far. That was a negative attitude, but in this instance, probably correct.

He continued along the outer path. In a small way, it reminded him of the station on Wayfarer III two kilometers above the surface. It had been a relay station with powerful winds gusting over it. There, his drop team had fought cyborg troopers. Both sides had lost combatants who dropped over the edge, plunging the two kilometers to the ground.

The remembrance brought a tightening to his gut. Looking down from the edge of the relay station—

Are you a coward? Were you afraid? Yes, he had been afraid, and he’d fought back then. He would do so again here.

The soldier let go of the bamboo rail. That started a murmur among the crewmembers watching him from the safety of the upper deck. Point proven once again to himself, Cade grabbed the rail and vaulted back onto the gondola proper, the upper deck.

Velia began to clap. She’d kept pace with him from the deck. She wore a white blouse with puffy sleeves, the upper buttons undone. She had a wide floppy brimmed hat and scarlet pantaloons with pistols thrust through the slash-like belt around her narrow waist.

“You’re a natural airman,” she said, stepping near, putting an arm through one of his.

Cade liked the touch and the compliment, and that made him angry. You made an oath to Raina.

“Tell me about your world,” Velia said.

“What? Oh.” He should move his arm, but he would get nowhere with her if he did. “I’m more interested in your world,” he said. “For instance, your brother is the captain of the Day Star and belongs to Lord Magnus’s host. Atticus, the captain of the Storm Rider, also belonged to the host.”

Velia laughed with an easy lilt, using both hands to clutch his arm, pushing her warmth against him.

He automatically leaned against her, even though he should hold himself stiff or push her away.

“You’re too suspicious about us,” she said. “Live a little, Spaceman. Enjoy the bounty of your strong and handsome body.” She squeezed the arm. “We could go below decks into your cabin.”

The temptation stirred his groin, and he realized that was exactly what he could do if he desired.

“In time,” he said, telling himself he was using this as a ploy, but wondering if he was lying to himself in the hope passion would overcome his better judgment.

Velia looked up into his face, her hands tightening even more around his arm. “Do you really mean that?”

What in the hell is wrong with me? If you really want to screw her, to break your word to Raina, go ahead and do it like a man. But know this: it means you’re giving up. Have you given up, Cade?

He almost spoke then, until the pragmatic side of him intervened. For the sake of good relations with her brother, he didn’t want to spurn her offer in a way Velia might consider rude. Dorian had freed him and returned the boot knife. If Velia went crying or raging to Dorian, the captain might change his mind.

Cade bargained with himself, telling himself this was just tactics. He forced an easy smile as he looked down at her and winked.

Velia laughed, rubbing his arm. “So, you’re a man after all with a man’s delight in a beautiful woman.” She grinned. “I imagine you’ve forgotten all about the stupid oath to your wife.”

That was too much. Shame welled like a geyser. An oath was an oath, and he loved Raina. Cade jerked his arm free.

Velia stiffened, staring at him, pouting. She stamped a booted foot. “You shouldn’t do that to me. I’m ready to fall in love with you. Do you know what that means? We’d lie naked on your bed and make passionate love. But if you’re going to spoil it every time by—”

I’m sorry Raina. This is tactics. But I know what I’m doing now.

Cade grasped Velia’s upper left arm and forced a smile on his face even as he lifted the minx up onto her booted tiptoes. “I’m Marcus Cade,” he said in a heavy voice. “I’m the predator and you’re the prey. I chase when I desire to chase. Pouting and complaining won’t move me. Shaking your tail for me—”

“Tail?” Velia asked, interrupting.

He had his plan, and he could say the words now because he knew he’d never bang this little minx.

“Shaking your ass to entice me will go much farther than your nagging,” Cade growled.

Velia’s eyes shone as she smiled, and as she tried to push forward to kiss him. He held her back one-handed, increasing the strength of his grip.

“You’re hurting me,” she said.

“That’s right. Until you learn the lesson I’m teaching.”

A frown appeared on her face. “Stop it, Marcus. Stop it before I order my bother to shackle you to a post and have him whip your back into bloody tatters.”

Playing a hunch, Cade gripped even harder.

The imperiousness on her face faded into worry. She might whimper, but he sensed steel in her will.

At that point, Cade released her.

Her boot heels hit the deck, and she gingerly touched her upper arm. A second later, she looked up. “You bruised me.”

He held her gaze a moment longer and then turned and looked out over the boundless ocean.

“That was a foolish thing to do,” she said. “Don’t ever do it again.”

Without looking at her, he shrugged.

“You’re a moody son of a bitch, aren’t you? What’s gotten into you now?”

He judged the moment right and faced her. “You want the truth? Your lies annoy me.”

Her pupils darted back and forth as she studied his rugged features. Her intelligence was obvious, the spinning wheels in her mind clear by her demeanor. “Oh. Do you mean what I told you about Captain Atticus kidnapping me?”

Cade nodded.

“You’re right. Atticus never did that.”

He kept staring at her.

“It was a good story, though,” she said with a grin. “You have to admit that.”

His expression remained the same.

It seemed like she was going to feign anger again, and then thought better of it. “Fine,” she said. “You’re worried about your future. I can understand that. You’re a logical man—most of the time, anyway. The truth, as you say, was that I was a liaison from Lord Magnus to Captain Atticus.”

Cade hadn’t expected that. He was learning more by playing rough and keeping silent. Keep doing the same thing. Thus, Cade shook his head.

“Are you calling me a liar?” she demanded.

He said nothing.

“You bastard,” she cried, swinging a hand to slap him across the face.

He caught her wrist and threw it back contemptuously.

She massaged the wrist before peering at him in a new, speculative manner. “You’re different from yesterday. What’s brought about the change?”

Hardball, she likes a man playing hardball. On impulse, he touched his upper arm where he’d received what he’d thought was an insect bite yesterday.

There might have been a hint of alarm in her eyes, although it disappeared instantly. “I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean.”

He did as a suspicion bloomed into certainty. “When I first met you—when you lay upon a cliff aiming a pistol at me—I felt a sting in my arm. Seconds later, I collapsed, unconscious.”

It took a half-beat before she said, “Yes, I remember you fainting. It was most odd. What kind of insect bit you?”

She’s playacting. That means— “No insect bit me, but a biodegradable sliver from a needler.” Damn, she has a needler. How did she get a hi-tech item?

Velia’s features hardened, and it seemed she might yell for help. He needed more time to think through the implications.

“Let’s have an honest talk,” he said. “I’m here to help. In fact, it’s why I came to Coad.”

She searched his face until understanding shined in her eyes. “Ah. So you did come from Tarvoke, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he lied, deciding the moment of decision was upon him. He needed just a little more information before he made his choice about what to do next, though.

“I must tell my brother about this.”

“Wait,” Cade said, reaching out like a cobra, taking hold of a hand. What can I say? What would Halifax say? Ah, the doctor would let the other person’s imagination do the work for him. “I’m supposed to tell you that Tarvoke has changed his mind.”

Velia cocked her head, frowning at him. “If that’s true, why would you tell me?”

Cade had no idea, knew he had to keep the ball rolling and said, “I…I don’t really have a wife. I just said that to give myself time to think.”

Velia stared at him, and laughed, shaking her head afterward. “Cade, Cade, Cade, you can’t really be that stupid. You think I want to sleep with you that badly?”

With a tug, he pulled her close so her breasts pressed against his chest. This was playing with liquid fire, but he stumbled onto secrets. It was time to push his hand. He stared down into her eyes, and in a seemingly impulse move, he swept her up and kissed her passionately before releasing her.

Her eyelids fluttered as she blushed and then looked around. “Cade,” she said, putting a hand to her hair, running her fingers through the long tresses. “You can’t do that in front of the men. It’s improper. Besides, you don’t want Dorian to kill you.”

“Why would he? He’s your brother.”

Velia opened her mouth, paused and then closed her mouth. “Of course he is.”

“You mean he isn’t?”

“He’s my second cousin,” she whispered. “But we pretend to be brother and sister.”

This isn’t fire but a live grenade. What did it mean? “Did Dorian send you to Captain Atticus?”

Velia blushed once again. “You’ve already guessed the truth, I warrant. I went to Atticus as his lover and wormed my way into his confidence. Atticus was a leader of one of the factions swirling around Lord Magnus. Dorian leads another faction. I did poison most of the landing party. I did that after the Rhunes destroyed the Storm Rider.”

“No…” Cade said. Remember, she owns a needler. “I don’t believe any of that.”

Her eyes widened. “But it’s true.”

“Maybe some of it is, but not all.”

“Where do I lie?”

How does Halifax do this? My mind’s reeling. “Uh, about your second cousin Dorian being one of the faction leaders. He isn’t. He’s…a spy for someone else completely.”

Velia’s features became pale as her mouth dropped open. “What are you suggesting?” she whispered.

“Tarvoke knows,” Cade said, having no idea what that could mean.

Velia shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Tarvoke.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Velia considered that. “Yes, yes, in a way I suppose it does. The Rhunes want off planet so they can—” She stopped as she peered more closely at him. “You double-dealing son of a whore,” she said without rancor. “You tricked that out of me. You’re cleverer than I thought. You didn’t really come from Tarvoke, did you?”

Keeping up the pretense was too hard. It was tripping him up. When in doubt, go back to basics. “No,” he said.

“Then why all these questions…?” Velia frowned before nodding. “You’re suspicious about Dorian, more than suspicious. What gave him away?”

“His glassy eyes. That he always wears a hat.”

“What would a hat have to do with it?”

“To conceal the antenna sticking out of his skull and signs of a power pack,” Cade said.

Velia staggered back several steps. She glared at Cade, turned away and opened her mouth to shout—

“Velia,” Cade said in a commanding voice.

She turned to him.

Back to basics, doing what knew: he tapped her chin with a quick strike of a fist, trying to gauge it perfectly. It seemed that he did, for her eyelids fluttered and she went limp, unconscious. Cade stepped forward and caught her, lifting her easily in his arms.

She’d obviously been ready to shout an alarm, and that could have meant further captivity. Now that he had admitted he knew something was afoul, Dorian—an obvious agent for cyborgs—would control his future once he learned the truth. Velia’s actions had as good as admitted that Dorian was a cyborg tool. The captain had an implant in his head so his cyborg masters could see through his altered vision. The feathered hat implied an outer antenna poking up from his skull, just enough of an antenna so others could see it if given the chance.

Cade laughed and spoke nonsense words to an unconscious Velia for the benefit of anyone watching. He carried her toward a hatch, pretending to lean in to kiss her. He would deposit her in her room and tie and gag her. Then, he would search the cabin for high-tech weapons.

Unfortunately, Dorian climbed out of the hatch before Cade could reach it. The captain wore his normal garb and had a jaunty smile. As Dorian stepped onto the upper deck, he eyed the pair—and frowned.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dorian demanded.

“You tell him, Velia,” Cade said, continuing to approach the captain.

“Halt!” Dorian cried.

Cade knew the game was up, so he lowered Velia to the wickerwork deck, but he did so in a way to keep her face from Dorian’s immediate sight.

The captain must have realized something was wrong, for he shouted, “Warriors to me!”

Cade straightened, clutching the boot knife. He was done with spy work. It was time to fight.

Dorian’s head jerked, noting perhaps the glitter of steel in Cade’s hand. Dorian grabbed his rapier pommel and began to draw the slender sword.

Cade flung his knife with unerring accuracy. The blade caught Dorian in the heart, sinking to the hilt. The captain’s rapier fell from his grasp as he staggered backward, clutching at his chest.

Cade could see what would happen. The backward stumbling man would topple over the railing and fall to the ocean below. He would never be able to prove why he’d done this. Thus, Cade charged.

“Stop!” a crewmember shouted.

A pistol discharged.

Maybe the shooter didn’t realize how fast Cade could move. The bullet missed, and the soldier tackled the captain, bringing him down just before the railing.

Now other crewmembers drew their pistols and some cutlasses. They converged upon the duo: Dorian quivering in his death throes, Cade panting and deciding on the best move. The dying captain stared up at Cade, raising an imploring hand.

“He’s a spy,” Cade shouted at the approaching men. “I can prove it.” He wiped off the captain’s feathered hat and propped up the dying man. Then he felt the man’s skull, searching through the thick hair for an antenna.

“What’s he doing?” the first mate shouted.

“That ain’t right,” another said.

Could he have guessed wrong? He didn’t—“Here!” Cade shouted triumphantly. He stood, hoisting the dying captain with him, using him as a shield against possible shooters. “Look at his head. There’s an antenna sticking out of it.”

Many of the crewmembers stared at one another. The first mate, a tall man with red hair and a scar across his left eye, approached flintlock-pistol first until he poked the barrel against Cade’s right cheek.

“Why shouldn’t I kill you where you stand?” the first mate snarled.

“First, have someone check the captain’s head,” Cade said.

“An antenna like a bug?” the first mate scoffed. “You’re a liar.”

“There’s an easy way to tell,” Cade said. “Check his head. He’s a spy for the cyborgs.”

“Cyborgs?” the first mate asked. “Are you daft? There aren’t no cyborgs on Coad. That’s a Tarvoke space rumor, ’tis all. Boys, what should we do with the captain’s killer?”

“I’ll tell you,” a woman shouted.

The armed crewmembers turned to an unsteady Velia. She touched her chin as she wobbled toward Cade and her dead second cousin. She kept staring at Cade as she closed the distance between them.

“He’s dead,” Cade told her.

Velia didn’t say a word until she reached Cade, the first mate and her dead second cousin. “Lower your pistol, Regor.”

The first mate stared at her, nodding a second later and lowering his flintlock.

“Set him on the deck,” Velia told Cade.

Cade saw something in her eyes, and he did as she commanded.

Velia knelt beside a dead Dorian Blue. She put her hands on his chest. Was she considering her options? Finally, she slid toward his head and used her fingers to probe his hair and skull. Her hands stopped, and she looked up at Cade in horror.

“I feel an antenna,” Velia whispered.

“He’s a cyborg spy,” Cade said, following her lead.

“No,” Velia said, her voice rising. She faced the armed crowd around her. “I’ve suspected for some time that Dorian was a Rhune spy. Here’s the proof: an antenna sprouting from the back of his head. Cade thinks there’s a power pack inside the head. What do we do if Cade’s right?”

None of the armed men had any idea, or if they did, they couldn’t say it.

“I’ll tell you what,” Velia said, rising. “I’m the captain of the Day Star now, as I have the same father as our former captain and am just as noble as Dorian Blue ever was. And I say that we should turn around and head toward Lord Magnus’s camp. Let Lord Magnus decide what we should do to Cade.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the armed crowd.

“What do you say, Regor?” Velia asked.

The first mate nodded. “You want to be captain, Velia, that’s fine with me. But I still say we gut this foreign devil for what he did.”

“No!” Velia said. “We won’t kill him. But I’ll chain him in my quarters and question him myself. By Cletus, you can be sure I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“You still want him after he killed your brother?” Regor demanded.

Velia laughed darkly. “I’ll peg him to my wall as a trophy. Believe me, this foreign devil will wish he’d never been born.” With that, she yanked Cade’s boot knife out of the corpse and slashed Cade across the chest, making him bleed. “On my brother’s blood, I swear this to be true,” she said.

At that, the armed crowd murmured their approval. At Velia’s orders, they bound Cade’s hands behind his back, marched him down the steep steps and brought him to her cabin. There, the men secured him against the stoutest bulkhead.

Chapter Sixteen

Cade eyed Velia as she checked his bonds. At her command, the men had cleated his spread-eagled hands and feet against the wickerwork bulkhead and joined Regor as the first mate departed the cabin. That left Cade alone with her. The quarters were double the size of his cabin and contained several wooden chests, her bunk, a tall wooden wardrobe and a box of…ointments, makeup and a mirror, he supposed.

The situation had not gone at all as he’d envisioned. Dorian Blue certainly had a tiny antenna sticking from his skull, and that had proven the old cyborg trick they played with people. That meant cyborgs were on Coad. Yet, the airmen had scoffed at the idea. What did that mean? Cyborg troopers should have easily swept the planet, tumbling everyone into chop shops or converters as some named the cyborg-creating machines.

Velia stepped back and put her hands on her hips as she eyed him. “Mounted on my wall—you’re just another hunting trophy, Marcus Cade. What did you tell me earlier? You’re the predator? Wrong. I’m the hunter, and you’re the prey. Perhaps I should tear off your clothes and gaze upon your nakedness. What would your precious wife think of that?”

Cade did not respond.

Velia laughed, and she reached out with a hand as if to begin stripping him. She watched him and might have found his apparent indifference disappointing.

“Not just yet,” she said, dropping her outthrust hand. She put both hands on her hips again. “You slew my cousin, my lover.”

“If that’s true,” Cade said, “you must have known about the antenna before this.”

Velia shrugged.

“That means you must also be a cyborg spy.”

“I have to say that you stay in character at all times. You’re a monomaniac about several topics: your wife, cyborgs—what is it with you and cyborgs?”

“What are your plans concerning me?”

“I’m not sure yet. I have to make a call first.”

“A radio call?”

“Why should that surprise you? You think no one has radio sets on Coad?”

“The flintlocks show—”

“Cade, you’re not thinking. Tarvoke sent a message to the Eagle-Dukes. How did the Eagle-Dukes receive it? Through smoke-signals from deep space?”

“No, of course not,” he said. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. It’s this strange mixture of low and high technology that keeps tripping me up.”

“Enough about that,” Velia said. “I should torture you to death for killing Dorian. Believe me. I want to torture you until you beg for mercy. But there are others who will surely want you alive. Maybe it’s time to start a bidding war between them.” She nodded. “Hang around, won’t you? I’ll be back in a while.” She laughed, headed out, closed the door and spoke to someone in the corridor.

After that, Cade heard her walk away. He listened carefully, but didn’t hear anything more but for the normal airship noises: creaks, the chugging engine on the upper deck and clatters, at times.

On the probability that someone spied on or listened to him, he did nothing for as long as he could, a half-hour in his estimation. Finally, though, Cade tested the special cleats stapled to the bulkhead. He was secured for now, but he might work free with strenuous effort. He studied the cleat on his left wrist helping to hold him spread-eagled. Velia had felt his strength earlier. Did she really think these cleats would do the trick, or did she think that because he a prisoner aboard an airship that he wouldn’t bother to free himself?

Cade began working his left wrist, straining, wriggling the cleat—it moved just a little—and trying to do so as quietly as possible. He began to sweat, but he didn’t stop. Perhaps fifteen minutes later, he jerked his wrist for the hundredth time, and the hooked cleat pulled out of the bulkhead. He moved his left arm and caught the iron staple before it struck the floor and made too much noise.

Taking out the right cleat proved simple because he could use both arms and one freed hand. He removed each ankle cleat in a matter of minutes.

Cade stood in the cabin and flexed his hands before he touched the knife gash across his chest. It was a shallow and had already clotted. He didn’t believe she’d cut him in anger, but for show for the crew. Had she loved Dorian? Cade didn’t think so. Velia had her own agenda, and he hadn’t deciphered it yet. His had become much easier for him, at least in keeping everything straight. He needed weapons and then would fight until he got what he wanted.

Moving about, Cade opened one of the wooden chests. It held rolled-up maps, a few leather-bound books and some perfume bottles along with pieces of cheap jewelry. The second chest was locked. He strained at it, but the lock held, and the chest had been stoutly built. He went back to the first and searched until he found a bronze pin. With the pin, he tinkered with the second chest’s built-in lock.

He heard a snick from within, grinning, and then heard gas hiss.

Cade threw himself back, holding his breath, scrambling to the other side of the cabin. He tried to sink against the wickerwork bulkhead as he tracked a faint cloud of gas as it floated and dissipated into the cabin’s air.

Dare he breathe in here again?

Cade spied a tiny porthole and cover. The problem was that it was near the chest. He crossed the room, opened the port cover and stuck his face there, breathing the outer air. He thought he tasted a cloying scent, and he began to feel drowsy. He couldn’t remain at the porthole or in the cabin or he would fall unconscious.

Was it a knockout or killing gas? It was clearly another indication that Velia De Lore was much more than she seemed.

Cade exhaled as much as he could and inhaled deeply. It was time to leave the Day Star. He’d worn out whatever welcome he’d had. That would mean a plunge down to the ocean. Sea-beasts inhabited the waters. No. Jumping overboard was foolish. That meant he had to take over or throw the others overboard. Could he defeat the entire crew?

Probability indicated they would likely shoot him before he could accomplish the feat. What if he threw Velia overboard? Could he claim the captainship then? That also seemed unlikely, as the crew had wanted to slay him, and she’d insisted they take him prisoner. But why secure him in her room?

This was the third complete exhale and inhalation. He pulled his face in and moved in seeming slow motion toward the wickerwork door. He tried the door, opening it, and found himself staring at a surprised, half-dozing guard to the side. Cade grabbed the man by the shoulders and yanked him into the cabin, kicking the door shut behind him. He tossed the guard stumbling to the bed. The man was snoring by the time he crashed upon it.

Cade opened the door again, closing it quietly. He shut his eyes, squeezing the lids hard, and opened them wide. In a half-daze, he stumbled through the narrow corridor until he reached a hatch leading down. Without hesitation, he took it, finding himself in the bottom cargo hold. It wasn’t vast and damp like a hold on a sailing ship. Rather, it had a low ceiling and a narrow lane with wooden crates piled high to both sides.

He closed the ceiling hatch and listened as people walked over the tightly woven wickerwork deck. His mind felt sharper, as he was no longer inhaling any of the dissipated gas. Perhaps he should bar the hatch and start a fire until he gained better terms. But they would break the terms as soon as he stamped out the fire. It’s what he would do in their place.

He began searching the crates, finding bales of clothing, pressed fruits like dates and low-tech weapons.

With a grin, Cade selected an axe and belted a cutlass scabbard around his waist. He went to the rear of the cargo hold. Above on the upper deck, the diesel engine chugged along, providing the airship with motive power. Spitting in his hands, Cade began to ply the axe against the bottom wickerwork, making a hole.

The ocean was the same distance below as before. He could certainly jump out, but he saw a sea-beast this time. It cruised just under the surface behind the airship shadow. Several more followed the first and biggest one.

Cade shook his head. He would not jump. Could he crawl out and use the wickerwork for hand and footholds? He could probably do that, but to what end?

Staring at the hole soothed the soldier. He had a means of escape. He sat down cross-legged and rested his chin on his fist. The elbow was propped on a knee. He began to consider options and see if he could glean enough to understand the real situation.

Graven Tarvoke controlled planetary space. A cyborg mobile base orbited the nearest gas giant. The mobile base had a great gaping hole in the outer hull that leaked its last particles. The mobile base also fired Raptor 5000 missiles, which passed through some sort of field that caused the missiles to shimmer. Afterward, Tarvoke had strikers capture those missiles, bringing them to his giant free trader. On Coad, Eagle-Dukes possessed the means—ancestral railguns—to knock down spaceships but couldn’t prevent sky-rafts from taking their prize. Dorian had had a cyborg implant.

Cade raised his head. He was no closer to understanding than before. Velia owned a needler, knockout or killing gas and a reinforced wooden chest immune to his tampering. Others finding an antenna sprouting from her cousin-lover’s head hadn’t diminished her quick thinking. She’d admitted to him that she’d already known about the antenna.

Cade sat very still. If Dorian had been a cyborg spy—

“You fool,” Cade told himself. He’d once had a cyborg obedience chip in his brain. That didn’t mean he’d been working for the cyborgs, but Earth Intelligence. Did Earth Intelligence have agents here? No. That was the wrong application. But someone on Coad used cyborg technology, or some cyborg technology anyway.

“Rhunes,” he whispered. Velia had said Dorian must have been a Rhune spy. Perhaps she’d spoken the truth when saying that. The aliens likely used the cyborg tech, and that would mean that Dorian and Velia worked for them.

That made sense. The Day Star had arrived at the island where the Descartes had crashed—and where Rhune sky-rafts had destroyed the Storm Rider. Velia must have poisoned the Storm Rider landing party because she secretly worked for the Rhunes and was making sure everyone Lord Magnus had sent to the island was dead.

Velia had said that she planned to start a bidding war for him. He doubted that. She’d gone to radio the Rhunes about him. Tarvoke had told them that the Rhunes ruled Coad. It might be more precise to say that they were the most powerful planetary group and had superior tech to back up their wishes. It would also seem that Rhunes had some cyborg technology in their grasp.

Cade reconsidered the wrecked mobile base orbiting the nearest gas giant. After a time, he shook his head. It seemed highly unlikely that the Rhunes had pirated or looted the mobile base. They would have needed spaceships, which they seemingly lacked, as Tarvoke ruled space.

“Who defeated the mobile base?” he asked softly, “and who erected a field of some kind around the gas giant?”

If he discovered those answers, he would probably know what was really going on in the pocket universe, the Corvine System.

Cade jerked as he heard a strange whine. He listened again. The noise—the whine—came from outside. Leaning on his belly, he peered through the hole he’d made. All he saw was ocean. He poked his head through the hole, looking around. Something hovered near the airship, pacing the slow-moving, ponderous vessel. Cade studied the chrome of its hull—

It was a Rhune sky-raft inching closer to the Day Star. The implication seemed clear. The Rhunes had come for him much sooner than he would have expected.

Chapter Seventeen

Cade ran through options in his mind. He had few to none. But he’d be damned if he let himself be taken prisoner again without a fight.

The Rhunes had taken the Descartes and likely Dr. Halifax in it. Logically, the Rhunes would want to question him, as they might have questioned Halifax if the doctor had survived. Rhunes used cyborg tech. What did that mean? Cade shook his head sharply. Now wasn’t the moment to ponder the implications of that. Now was the time to act.

What was his best move?

Cade’s nostrils flared. His training and inclination pushed him toward violent, direct action, the type of attack that often paralyzed an enemy because it was so sudden and unexpected.

The sky-raft inched closer yet, the chrome under-housings whining more loudly. Cade cocked his head. Did he hear human shouts from the crew on the gondola’s upper deck?

Making his decision, Cade used a thong to tie the cutlass hilt to the belt. He didn’t want the cutlass falling out. Then he did what anyone else would consider madness. He began crawling through the hole he’d hacked on the bottom of the cargo hold. He did this until he realized it wouldn’t work, and pulled himself back in.

Crawling on the underbelly of the gondola hull would prove too difficult, as there was nothing for his feet to grip and his legs would dangle. He didn’t want to try hand-over-hand along the bottom of the airship.

He stood, snatched the axe off the floor and moved to a different location in the hold. There, he hacked a new hole, this one high on the side wall. In moments, the hole was big enough to allow him to push his head and shoulders through. The ocean was below. If he fell, he could twist himself into a headfirst dive and start over again from the water.

Using his hands, he reached up and grasped the tightly woven wickerwork side. He dragged the rest of his body through the side hole. His iron-like fingertips thrust through the wicker weaving, enough to give him purchase. It would be slow work, but what else could he do? He began scaling the outer gondola hull. He used the toes of his boots and kicked against the wickerwork until he had a modicum of purchase each time so he could shove upward.

Maybe using the interior ladders and stairs would have been easier. It might have alerted the crew, however, if someone had seen him and raised the alarm. He desperately wanted to achieve the element of surprise, as it was a combat-force multiplier. If he was going to impose his will on the others, he was going to need every edge he could get.

As Cade climbed the outer hull—on the opposite side from the Rhune sky-raft—he definitely heard crew members shouting and the shouting abruptly stopping. Cade did not climb faster. He still did it deliberately, as any slip might cost him dearly.

Soon, he spied the gondola’s outer walkway above. It was more than just a reach to get to the outer edge of the walkway. If he could—Cade lowered his body as he tensed and shoved hard with his boot and fingertips, leaping for the outer edge. In the air, he twisted his body like a gymnast as he sailed, and his fingers latched onto the outer side of the walkway. One hand’s fingers slipped off. He dug hard with the other hand, trying to gain purchase. If this hand slipped—his right-hand fingers held. He brought the left hand back as he dangled from the walkway. With muscular power, he pulled himself up fast and switched his handhold as his torso shot up above the walkway. He leaned onto it and brought his legs up, panting for a moment—resting—on the horizontal wickerwork.

Surprise them while it counts.

He brought up his knees and then his feet. He checked himself, untying the thong holding the cutlass to the scabbard. Then he continued to straighten until he reached the bamboo railing and peered over it.

What the hell?

The entire crew must have been on the upper deck. They held flintlock long-barrels, pistols, cutlasses and knives. They stood like a tame herd of cattle, though. They did not mill. They did not look around. The crew stood silently and quietly as if waiting for orders. The greater majority stood near the bamboo rail on the other side of the gondola as Cade. The only one among the crew who did move was—of course—Velia De Lore.

She stood at the rear of the unmoving throng, walking around them toward the sky-raft.

Cade waited until she moved past the last rank and toward the waiting sky-raft. At that point, he climbed onto the upper deck. The diesel engine still idled, but someone had disengaged the propellers. The airship drifted slowly as a gentle wind propelled it.

Moving faster, Cade reached the back of the throng. From behind, he peered up at a rear-rank crewman. The pirate-clad airman’s eyes were frozen forward, and his face was slack. Cade checked another crewmember. It was the same with this man, too.

On impulse, Cade tore the first man’s long barrel out of the rough hands. It was like taking it from a sleepwalker. Cade checked. The rifle held a bullet, charge and primer. He took a sash of loaded flintlock pistols as well, draping the sash over his torso. Then, in a crouch, he began working toward the opposite side of the unmoving crowd as Velia.

He heard a murmur—talking—but it was indistinguishable. He crouched lower, passing the side of the still crowd. The sky-raft was a little lower than the upper gondola deck. Cade could still see a central shack on the sky-raft, a polished steel rail around the far edges and two cannons, similar to those that adorned a WWII Earth submarine’s outer hull.

Creeping forward, Cade reached the airship side and slowly peered up, looking down directly at the sky-raft.

There was a wide secured plank between the gondola and sky-raft. The plank had rails, and Velia inched along it, holding onto one set of rails tightly. Her eyes were screwed shut and her body language indicated fear of heights.

That was odd, as Cade had never seen any indication of that before.

Velia headed down toward a stick figure of a man in a long black robe. He had short dark hair, sunken eyes and cheeks—his face was like a skull with parchment skin. On the front of the robe was the symbol of a bright object with outward radiating wavy lines. He watched Velia dispassionately.

There were two other strange men flanking the first. Each held his arms high with his flingers spread wide apart. The sleeves of their black robes had fallen down to reveal skinny arms. They all looked like starvation victims, without an ounce of fat on them. Their eyes were fixed upon the unmoving crowd of airmen. Cade also noticed slowly spinning multicolored devices in each man’s palm.

Cade felt it then, his focus pulled toward the spinning colored discs. The intense eyes, the two men—with a great effort of will, the soldier tore his gaze from the swirling discs. He sucked air afterward, stunned, realizing he’d nearly fallen under the same spell as the crewmen.

Yes! The two robed men held the throng of airmen in hypnotic thrall. It was magic, or much higher technology than he understood.

Using the shoulder of his jacket, Cade brushed his chin as his heart hammered with superstitious fear. If this was magic—

He squinted. He refused to accept black magic or sorcery as the answer. This was…something else—it had to be, right?

Put that aside for the moment.

The process of their doing this wasn’t as important as to the reason. Why would the robed men do this? The answer became obvious: because despite whatever Dorian and Velia were up to—had been up to—the Day Star airmen wouldn’t like what they saw. Their firearms and swords showed they must have been ready to fight for their lives. Was this how—?

“Rhunes,” Cade whispered with sudden understanding. The black-robed men on the sky-raft were Rhunes. Yet, they appeared human, more or less. So why had Tarvoke called them aliens before?

As Cade pondered this, Velia reached the end of the plank, slowly setting foot onto the sky-raft. She must have opened her eyes, as she walked faster to the main…Rhune. She confirmed Cade’s belief by falling onto her face before the Rhune. She groveled as the Rhune stared down at her dispassionately.

Revulsion twisted Cade’s lips, and he couldn’t say why he felt this inner loathing, but it was strong. Before he realized it, he straightened from his crouch and raised the flintlock so the stock rested against his right shoulder.

The main Rhune saw him, turning his head to stare across the air gap.

The loathing intensified, and that sharpened his focus. Cade needed force multipliers against the Rhunes, and he realized where he could get them. Thus, he retargeted at the nearest hypnotizer, held the flintlock rock-steady and pulled the trigger. The weapon clicked and discharged, causing the head of the nearest Rhune with his hands in the air to disintegrate in a spray of blood and bone. Cade dropped the rifle, drew a pistol from his sash holder, pulled the hammer back with his thumb and aimed unerringly at the second acolyte.

That one began to turn his head before the bullet struck. His forehead shattered as he flew sideways onto the sky-raft deck.

The airmen on the gondola—the ones holding rifles and cutlasses—began to stir as if waking from a long, deep sleep.

The main Rhune bent at the waist, grabbing at Velia. Was he going to kill her? Did he plan to use her as a body shield as Cade had used a dying Dorian before?

Cade pulled out another pistol, cocked, aimed and the gun misfired, the pan creating a puff of black smoke, but the main charge failing to ignite. He tossed the pistol to the deck and drew the last two, one in each hand.

“Stop,” the Rhune said in a loud voice. “Stop or—”

Cade fired, and the Rhune fell away onto the sky-raft deck, struck mid-torso by a bullet.

Velia screamed as she scrambled away from the fallen, twisting Rhune.

“To arms, to arms!” Cade thundered. “The Rhunes have captured our captain. We have to save her. Kill everyone on the sky-raft.”

Cade took several steps back, ran forward and jumped hard, rising over the gondola railing. He sailed across the gap between vessels, his legs churning in the air. He wouldn’t have made it, but the sky-raft deck was lower than the upper gondola deck. He barely cleared the enemy rail and landed hard.

There were more Rhunes. Two ran out of the central shack, rushing to a cannon, reaching it and beginning to turn the airship-killer toward the gondola.

Cade bellowed as he fired his last pistol, killing one of them. He dropped the empty weapon and drew the cutlass, charging the last cannon tender. That was too much for the surviving Rhune, who pushed away from the cannon, pulling up his robe so his skinny legs churned as he ran for the central housing.

Behind Cade, the airmen shouted, waking up and encouraging one another to follow the soldier’s example and save their captain from Rhune captivity.

The hapless Rhune reached the central housing and frantically tried to open the door—it was locked. Surely, he hadn’t locked it coming out, which implied someone was still in the control cabin. The Rhune spun around to face Cade.

The soldier swung the cutlass, using the armored hilt to strike the Rhune across the face instead of hacking him to death. The skinny black-robed man slid bonelessly to the deck, unconscious or dead from the vicious blow.

“Open the door,” Velia said imperiously.

Cade glanced at her. She held a tiny needler in her fist. It was aimed at him.

“If you attempt anything I don’t like,” she said quietly, “you’re going to sleep. This time, you won’t wake up.”

“If we don’t break in, what’s to stop the Rhunes inside from turning the sky-raft upside-down and pitching us into the ocean?”

Hesitation entered her eyes.

That’s all Cade needed. He slapped her hand, knocking the needler from it so it clunked onto the deck. He bent to retrieve it. A flashing boot kicked it—Velia’s—sending the tiny needler sailing over the sky-raft railing and then dropping toward the ocean below.

At that point, the sky-raft deck shuddered.

Cade straightened. The needler was gone, so it was no longer an issue. He backed up, backed up more, and he charged the door, launching airborne as he struck the metal door with the bottom of both boots. Something cracked, a bar, hinges maybe—but the door still held.

“Surrender!” Velia shouted at those inside. “Surrender, and we’ll let you live.”

Cade backed up again, readying to charge once more.

The door opened. A black-robed Rhune stood there with a blaster in his right hand. “Listen to me well, woman,” the Rhune whispered.

Cade heard the words, realized he could still use Velia—and that he could easily die to blaster fire. Thus, Cade hurled the cutlass. It wasn’t his well-balanced boot knife and it wasn’t much of a throw. But he didn’t need to kill the man, just make sure he didn’t kill any of them.

The cutlass struck the Rhune hilt-first against his chest, which knocked him backward into the control housing. As Velia stood in shock and surprise, Cade swept past her. The Rhune was on the floor, but he hadn’t released the blaster.

“You,” the Rhune said, lifting the weapon and pulling the trigger. A gout of energy erupted.

Cade twisted with preternatural quickness, the line of energy barely sizzling past him.

Velia groaned from behind, and he heard a thump.

Cade charged and kicked as the Rhune re-aimed. Bones cracked, and the blaster sailed from the Rhune’s broken hand, hitting the far wall.

“Wait,” the Rhune whispered. “I can help you.”

Cade dropped onto a knee as his fist crashed against the Rhune’s throat. The man bucked and gurgled, and he tried to grab his bruised throat. Cade did not let him as he struck two more times, crushing the windpipe. The bastard had slain Velia—Cade was sure. There was something else to the brutality, something deep in Cade that brought his revulsion to full strength.

He looked up. There were no more Rhunes in the control cabin. He might well have captured the sky-raft. Now, could he keep it, and use the raft to his advantage?

Chapter Eighteen

Cade trembled with suppressed fury as he picked up the blaster. This was a cyborg trooper issued sidearm from The War, a Lupus 19 Energy Gun, one of the highest-tech pistols of their time. Why had a Rhune brandished one? Why did he feel such strong and instinctive hatred toward the Rhunes, as if they were—?

Cade stiffened as a revelation hit. He hated the Rhunes as if they’d been cyborg troopers. Why would he feel this way…?

“Unless these are cyborgs?” he whispered to himself.

The idea helped him regain control of his fury. He was a soldier, one genetically designed to battle cyborg troopers on even terms.

One Rhune remained—the one who the other had locked out and Cade had struck with the cutlass basket hilt. That Rhune cradled Velia’s head on his robed lap as he spoke softly to the first mate Regor. The Rhune spoke meekly and with his head lowered in submission.

Regor aimed a pistol at the Rhune’s head. A mob of angry airmen stood at the first mate’s back.

Cade stepped out of the cabin. Velia was twisted in pain, her white blouse bloody. Part of the blouse was gone, destroyed by the energy gun. The energy hadn’t struck her directly, but in the lower part of her torso.

Without a word, as everyone watched, Cade knelt beside her. He spied his boot knife in one of her boot tops. Drawing it, he cut away bloody blouse to expose her blaster-burned side. The energy hadn’t fully pierced her but mangled the skin. He glanced at her face. She was in shock. Had the Rhune realized that? Did he know she should live? Would he try to bargain and say that he’d saved her life?

“It isn’t fatal,” Cade said, staring at Velia.

She appeared not to hear. Her fingers tightened around the skinny Rhune arms holding her, and she began to weep, likely at the pain.

Regor lowered his pistol. “Did the Rhune save her life?”

The Rhune looked up, and appeared to summon strength—

“No,” Cade said. “I saved her. I stopped the other one from murdering her with this.” He held up the blaster. “If this one claims he saved the captain—” Cade peered in the Rhune’s face. Knowing the shell of a man was really a cyborg—how did he know that? A new feeling swept over Cade, pushing aside the hatred. Maybe he was wrong about this man. The Rhune was acting kindly and—

Cade moved onto a knee as his left hand shot out, clutching the Rhune by the skinny throat. “Stop doing that,” he said.

Feelings of shame radiated at Cade. How could he harm one who wished to help—?

Cade’s fingers tightened and the Rhune gurgled in pain.

“Here now,” Regor said. “Why ye be doing that to him?”

Cade’s fingers tightened as his tips dug into flesh.

The feelings of shame snapped off.

Regor grunted, as if he’d felt something too.

“He’s a wizard,” Cade said thickly, his grip loosening. “He’s using magic against us, just like the others did to you before I saved you by killing the magicians.”

“By Cletus,” Regor swore. “That be true. Ye saved our life…Cade. Why would ye do that after we treated you so badly?”

“Men should stick together against the Rhunes,” Cade said.

Regor nodded, frowning afterward. “Now what happens?”

Cade fully released the Rhune’s reddened throat, giving the man a significant glance as he did. “I’m taking the sky-raft,” he told Regor. “Do you agree I won it fairly in battle?”

“I surely do,” Regor said. “I’m not sure Captain Velia will agree.”

“Velia?” Cade said. “Can you hear me?”

She turned a pale, sweaty face toward him. Maybe she could hear and understand.

“It’s your choice,” Cade said. “You can remain as captain of the Day Star, or you can come with me and help with the sky-raft.”

“Why would she go with you?” Regor asked.

“I’m giving her the choice,” Cade said. “You might not have noticed, but Velia crossed the plank and boarded the sky-raft while the rest of you stood like sheep for slaughter.”

“She did?” asked Regor.

Velia moistened her lips, perhaps to attempt speech and an explanation to Regor and the airmen behind him.

“I think she went to plead for your lives,” Cade told Regor. “I think she was offering her life for yours.”

Regor stared at Velia with astonishment.

The Rhune stirred, perhaps also wishing to speak.

“Say a word,” Cade told the Rhune, “and I’ll kill you.”

“Why do ye silence him?” Regor asked.

“So he can’t cast spells upon us,” Cade said.

Regor swore with understanding. Then he said, “Let me kill him. I’ll do it with a bullet to the brain.”

The Rhune stiffened.

“No,” Cade said sharply. “I can use him better alive.”

The Rhune eyed Cade.

“I want you alive,” the soldier told the Rhune in a heavy voice.

“Are you going to torture him?” Regor asked.

“If he doesn’t do exactly what I say,” Cade answered. “Look, Captain Regor, we can’t stay here like this for long. The Day Star is drifting. The sky-raft…I don’t know how it’s doing what it is.”

Captain Regor. In reality, he was the first mate. Cade had said what he had on purpose, as the soldier wanted to stir Regor’s ambition. What airman wouldn’t want to be captain?

Regor took his time kneeling beside Velia. He must be stiff or had bad knees. Regor put a scarred hand on her right shoulder. “What are yer wishes, Velia?”

Cade noted that Regor hadn’t called her captain, even though the first mate usually did.

“Stay…here…” Velia whispered. “Rhune medicines…” she added.

Regor didn’t argue but worked his way upright. “Do any of you wish to stay with Marcus Cade?”

No airman raised a hand or said he would.

Regor faced him. “Are ye willing to take the sky-raft alone with Velia and this damned wizard?”

“I am,” Cade said.

“Ye wish to rescue your friend?”

“Yes,” the soldier said.

Regor shook his long face. “If anyone can, by Cletus, it be you. I never seen anyone move the way you do.”

Cade inclined his head, accepting the compliment.

“Yer right,” Regor said. “It’s time to part. I wish ye luck, Spaceman.”

“I wish you luck, Airman.”

The two men shook hands. Then Regor summoned his crew and they began crossing back onto the Day Star over the wide plank.

As the others filed off the raft, Cade aimed the blaster at the Rhune. “Help her into the cabin. If I feel you trying to influence my emotions, I’ll kill you. Is that clear?”

The Rhune nodded.

“No,” Cade said coldly. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” the Rhune whispered.

The Rhune stood, and he put his hands under her armpits, beginning to drag Velia into the cabin.

She moaned in pain.

“Stop,” Cade said. “Carry her.”

The Rhune shook his head. “I’m not physically strong enough to do that.”

Cade scoffed. “What cyborg ever lacked physical strength?”

The Rhune cocked his head. “You believe I’m a cyborg? I’m surprised. How did you conclude that with such slender evidence?”

The question struck Cade. He thought about it—he squinted at the Rhune. The dark eyes shifted back to him. Did Cade see something odd reflected in the eyes or was it something else?

The soldier spun around in time to see a fantastic, possibly supernatural, sight. The main Rhune, the one he’d shot mid-torso earlier with a flintlock pistol, rose from the deck where he’d been lying. There was bright red blood on his robe, but the parchment-skull face showed serenity. The Rhune stood, raised his hands and began to levitate off the deck. He simply rose upward. There was a soft whine—

With shock, Cade realized it came from the Rhune’s feet.

From the Day Star, airmen shouted in horror and superstitious dread as the Rhune gained height.

Cade brought up the blaster, sighting on the levitating black-robed man and fired. As he fired, the Rhune in the cabin crashed against him, jostling his arm. The line of energy sizzled past the levitating Rhune, missing.

Cade smashed an elbow back against the Rhune’s face. There was a crack, a groan, and the Rhune thudded onto the cabin floor. Cade glanced at him, to make sure he was out—the Rhune was—and he focused on the levitator.

That one had risen fifty meters off the sky-raft and to the left. That one pumped his right fist once, twice—on the third pump, a blazing fireball erupted, sizzling at the airship.

Cade watched in disbelief. The fireball struck the gasbag, and that area exploded into fire, growing with more hydrogen and eating into more gasbags.

Cade raced to the wide plank joining the gondola and sky-raft. He thrust the blaster into his belt as he ran. Upon reaching the plank, he tore it off, lifting bracing hooks from raft slots.

The growing heat from the burning gasbags scorched his flesh.

With an oath, Cade freed the plank, backing away, blocking his face from the intense heat with his arms.

The freed airship—gondola and burning gasbags—moved faster away from the sky-raft since they were no longer locked together. The rushing free and burning hydrogen propelled the airship away from the stable sky-raft.

Airmen screamed from the gondola.

One had leapt at just the right time, sailed across the gap and was clinging to the edge of the sky-raft. Braving the heat, Cade staggered to the man and dragged him onto the raft.

A new sizzling fireball from the airborne Rhune barely missed the two of them.

Cade spun around and looked up.

The levitating Rhune was one hundred meters higher, still climbing and attempting to target them with his magic.

Bringing up the blaster, feeling surreal, Cade tracked the bastard and fired. The line of energy missed. He shot again, and this time hit the Rhune squarely.

There was a shout of pain, a flash—the Rhune plummeted, gaining speed as he dropped. He struck the edge of the raft, bounced and tumbled toward the ocean.

Cade rushed to that edge and peered over, seeing the Rhune strike the waters. The man, Rhune, cyborg, did not move, did not struggle. He began to sink, dead.

Cade straightened, and with a leaden step watched the end of the Day Star. Men had leapt and still leapt for the ocean, but the blazing airship followed. There were screams, the blaze of fire and intense suffering in the water.

The soldier glanced at the airman panting on the sky-raft deck. He remembered the unconscious Rhune in the cabin and the badly injured Velia. It was time to see if he could control this craft and see if he could save any surviving airmen in the ocean.

Chapter Nineteen

In the control cabin, Velia wept softly, and nothing Cade said or did could console her. He would have examined her burn more closely, but if he acted quickly enough, he might be able to save some of the airmen who would otherwise drown. He went to a central control panel, but it wasn’t immediately obvious which toggle produced what event. Because he didn’t want to dump them in the ocean, he went to the unconscious Rhune.

Cade stared at the thin man, the possible cyborg. Hadn’t the man admitted to being a cyborg? Yet, if that was true, how could he lack the strength to carry Velia? From everything that Cade had seen during The War, cyborgs had greater strength than any Ultra or man he’d ever known. However, cyborgs did not fly, at least, not without jetpacks or bulky antigravity units.

Cade hoisted the unconscious Rhune so he was upright and slapped his face until the eyelids fluttered. Cade then dragged the Rhune to the controls.

“What do you want from me?” the Rhune whispered.

“Teach me how to fly the raft.”

“Why? You’ll kill me afterward.”

“Not unless you give me a reason.”

“You don’t need a reason. You think we’re cyborgs, and you obviously hate them.”

Cade gripped the back of the Rhune’s neck and squeezed until the man whimpered. “Listen to me,” he whispered in the Rhune’s left ear. “I can make your existence miserable unless you obey me.”

“No you can’t,” the Rhune whispered. “I can cease existence with a thought. Meaning, I will not permit you to torment me.”

Cade laughed harshly and then cried out, springing away from the Rhune. A zap or shock had just emanated from the creature.

“Pathetic man,” the Rhune whispered, turning, with his eyes alight. “You don’t understand—”

Cade hit him in the mouth with too much force. The Rhune catapulted over the controls to land in a ragged heap on the floor on the other side. Cade came around the controls, and he saw the eyes as if they burned with inner fire. The soldier sensed that he was seconds from death and kicked the Rhune in the face as hard as he could. There was a crack, neck bones perhaps or some of the facial bones. The fire in eyes ceased as the man groaned. There was another loud zap, and the black robes burst into fire.

Shouting in alarm, Cade jumped back and looked around. He spied an extinguisher hanging from a wall, tore it off and sprayed foam upon the burning man until the fire guttered out.

Standing back, studying the creature, Cade moved forward and toed him with a boot. There was nothing. The Rhune was dead.

Cade spun around, hurrying to the outer raft. He peered over the edge at the waters eighty or so meters below. There was splashing. Some of the airmen still survived. A few waved to him, perhaps shouting for help.

Cade heard stealthy footfalls from behind and turned to see the airman he’d saved. Was that a cunning look upon the man’s face, the hands held up to give him a push from behind? Cade wasn’t sure. Maybe the Rhunes were making him paranoid.

The airman lowered his hands, smiling insincerely and saying, “We must save them.”

Cade didn’t want to kill or distrust the airman. There had been too much death the last few minutes.

“Can you fly the raft?”

“Me?” the man asked.

“What’s your name?”

The man hesitated before saying, “Felix.”

“Just Felix?”

The airman nodded.

This was getting more suspicious by the second. “You had great presence of mind to leap for the raft. I’m impressed.”

Felix’s shoulders hunched. “I’ve been in an airship battle before. It was ghastly, with exploding gasbags and burning men. I’ve feared a fiery death ever since and would do anything to avoid it.”

It was on Cade’s tongue to say Felix should have quit serving on airships if he felt that way. Then he realized this was something Dorian Blue might have said. Was there a connection between Felix and Dorian, other than the obvious one that they’d both served on the Day Star?

“Surely, you can fly the sky-raft,” Felix said. “You’re a spaceman, and you’ve achieved marvels today.”

Cade shook his head. “I can’t levitate or cause energy to sprout from my fists.” He should question the man further. First, he wanted to save those below. “Search the vessel. See if you can find any long rope. That could help us pick a few men up if we learn how to lower this thing.”

Felix nodded, turning, looking.

Cade returned to the control cabin. It stank of burnt flesh, a nauseating stench he hated. He steeled himself and dragged the dead Rhune onto the outer deck, leaving him there. Felix was walking around, still searching for rope. On impulse, Cade checked the corpse, looking for anything useful. It proved useless, as the man had been wearing nothing but his black robe.

Once more returning to the cabin, the soldier studied the control panel. Maybe he should experiment. Waiting—doing nothing, in other words—as the Day Star crew drowned grated on him.

His big hand hovered over the board. The toggle to the left looked promising. With a click, he moved it.

There was a horrible whine from outside. The sky-raft shook and suddenly shot up, causing Cade to grab the panel to steady himself.

From outside, Felix shouted, and his continuing cry dwindled as if he’d fallen off the raft.

Gritting his teeth, controlling the impulse to tap madly, Cade flicked the toggle he’d just moved, switching it the other way.

The sky-raft began sliding sideways as it continued to climb.

Cursing, Cade tried several different toggles.

Abruptly, the raft ceased climbing and stopped sliding sideways, although it vibrated as if ready to shoot off in another direction.

Cade waited. The vibration slowly stopped as the sky-raft steadied. He ran outside, searching. There was no sign of Felix. Had he killed the man? Had it been an unconscious act to rid himself of a likely troublemaker? Cade went to an edge and peered around. There was no sign of Felix. Far in the distance, he spied the speck of the guttered, smoky Day Star.

This was bad. At this point, he needed to save lives, not take them. Could Velia fly the raft? He hurried to her and asked, but she was delirious, mumbling nonsense answers.

What was the correct choice? Walking outside, looking around—

The Rhune corpse was gone. It was too late to secure the body. Cade went inside and carried Velia to a chair, strapping her in. She moaned in agony, but at least she wouldn’t flop around or sail against edges and kill herself if he made more mistakes.

Cade stood before the controls, remembering what he’d done moments ago and began to experiment once again. The raft sank at speed toward the ocean. The raft stopped dropping but spun in circles. The raft leaned hard to one side and then the other. But by dint of experimentation and logic, Cade began to perceive how to fly the sky-raft. The vessel used a type of gravity dampener. Where the motive power to go right or left in the various directions came from, he had no idea. Invisible rays must propel the craft.

By the time Cade learned how to fly the sky-raft, he’d lost all sight of the crashed Day Star. The guilt of that and dumping Felix ate at him. However, feelings of guilt wouldn’t help him save Halifax or help him leave Coad so he could find his wife. With a ruthlessness gained from a hundred battles, he suppressed the guilt. He would have saved the others if he could, but he hadn’t been quick enough or deft of mind to do so. At least the airmen’s enemies, the Rhunes, had all lost. That would be the Day Star’s epitaph—the best he could give the fallen crew.

The sky-raft presently hovered forty meters above the ocean, as stable as before. Velia lived and so did he. He tried to understand how the Rhunes had done what they had: the levitating, mass hypnotizing, shooting fireballs and zapping. The one said he’d been correct in assessing Rhunes as cyborgs. Yet, cyborgs had strength and speed, not—

“Oh,” Cade said.

It struck him how the Rhunes might be a type of cyborg. Maybe they carried equipment inside their bodies. Was that why the one had sunk instead of floated: because the creature carried heavy metal inside himself? If Rhunes did have machines or machine parts in their bodies, that made them cyborgs after a fashion, as a cyborg was part machine and part human.

There was something else to consider—the mobile base at the nearest gas giant. The mobile base was direct evidence that cyborgs had reached the pocket universe. The Rhunes—were they a special offshoot of the cyborgs? He’d never heard about Rhunes or creatures like them during The War.

Cade drew the Lupus 19 Energy Gun. He’d seen models like this before. Tucking the blaster back under his waistband, he went to Velia and crouched before her.

“You need to drink water,” he said. “You’re in shock and dehydrated. Is there any healing balm around?”

She raised a sweaty face to squint at him. “How would I know that?” she whispered hoarsely.

“The Rhunes failed to hypnotize you… They must have hypnotized the crew for your sake. You came to report in person, crawling on your belly to your master. By summoning the sky-raft, you as good as slew the entire crew.”

She laughed hoarsely, wincing at times. “You as good as killed the crew when you slew Dorian Blue. Or did you think the Rhunes would allow you to slay their plant with immunity?”

Did Velia have cyborg devices inside her? Cade considered it possible. Could Rhunes back at base see or hear through her? No antenna sprouted from her skull, and she’d said before that she had to radio in.

“You’re badly hurt,” he said, using tactics again. She was hurt, but not unto dying. He’d survived worse energy burns back in the day. Sure, he could heal faster than an ordinary person…

“Damn you,” she whispered. “The pain is intense. I want it to stop—I need it to stop so I can think.”

“I can help you with the pain, but first you have to help me.”

She squinted at him, moaning afterward. “I can’t bargain with you.”

“You’d better if you want the pain to stop.”

She panted, her right hand hovering over the side torso burn. “Have mercy on me,” she finally pleaded.

“Like you had mercy on the airmen?”

“I already told you—”

“Velia,” he interrupted. “You’ve had the advantage for so long that you’ve forgotten what it means to be needy. I can help you, but I won’t until you help me.”

“Help you how?” she whispered.

“Where’s the nearest Rhune base?”

Once again, she laughed hoarsely, shaking her sweaty head. “You don’t know anything.” She winced, shuddering. “Oh, but that hurts. It hurts so bad.”

Cade waited, letting her pain do his arguing for him.

“You don’t know anything,” she said again. “Please, help me.”

He stared at her as if he was rock.

“You fool,” she whispered. “You’re going to ruin our one hope, our one chance.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We—” Velia licked her lips as sweat dripped from her chin. “We think there’s only one base left, an underwater fortress.”

“Do you know where?”

“Of course not, you fool. We would have launched a thousand torpedoes if we knew.”

“Are you trying to imply that—?”

“No,” she said, launching forward, covering his mouth with a sweaty hand. “Don’t say it.” Her eyes were wide and haunted as she looked around the cabin. “The…the craft might be bugged.”

He stared at her.

The energy to sit up like that must have exhausted her. She slumped back in the chair, shivering.

Cade stood.

She looked up at him, shivering and possibly summoning her last reserves of will and strength. “The vessel may have a retrieval switch.”

“Can you show me where?”

She shook her head. “You don’t want to go there, Cade. They’ll enslave your soul if you do. Help me reach Lord Magnus.”

“You were headed to the Rhunes in the Day Star. Why change your mind now?”

“No. I’m not…not who or what you think.”

Was she lying, playing yet another game? He needed Halifax. “Help me find the homing switch and then I’ll search for healing salve.”

She squinted at him. “All right. But you’ll have to lift me for me to show you.”

He did as she panted, trembling and sweating more. As he led her, she shuffled her feet, reaching the control board. She examined it closely.

“Just so you know,” he said. “If you betray me to the Rhunes, I’ll kill you first.”

It took effort, but she turned her face to him. “Would you really kill a woman, Cade?”

“I kill traitors, yes.”

She groaned and put her hand to her burned side, touching the wound, which made her tremble violently. Biting her lower lip, she regained enough presence of mind to point at a toggle. “I think that’s the one. Move it and the sky-raft should start for home. Now please, find the salve and apply it to the burn.”

As Cade held her against his side, he reached out and flipped the toggle. He had a horrible feeling about this, certain she was playing a double or triple game against him. To his surprise, the sky-raft rotated and began to move in a single direction. The floating vessel picked up speed. Was it heading for its home base as Velia had said?

Cade swallowed, helping her back to a chair. He’d see if there was some quick-heal aboard. Then…then he’d better start planning what he’d do once they reached the underwater base.

Chapter Twenty

Dr. Halifax stirred sleepily as he sat on a chair with his head and arms resting on a heavy wooden table. He felt groggy and spent, mentally spent and…and… He frowned. He couldn’t remember what had happened to him. He’d been somewhere, gone to a planet—

“Coad,” he whispered. He was on Coad, underwater at some Rhune ocean base.

His head began to throb and his eyes hurt. He’d set his head down because the light in here had put black splotches in his vision. He felt the wax finish on the table and groaned as he tried to lift his head off his arms, which were also on the table.

The headache increased, and he tasted bile in his mouth. Had he thrown up before? He couldn’t remember. There was too much he couldn’t remember. Why was that?

A door opened behind him.

Summoning the little strength that remained, Halifax lifted his head, panting as he sat in a chair. He wanted to open his eyes but couldn’t gather the will to do it.

He heard the patter of naked feet. Rough hands touched him, turning him this way and that as if examining him.

“He must have used a mind probe on you,” a rough-voiced someone said.

Curiosity gave Halifax more willpower. He opened his eyes. The light hurt. He squinted, shut them and then opened them all the way again and saw a blurry head before him.

“Who…?” Halifax whispered.

The hands released him. Halifax heard gurgling water and then something cool was thrust into his hands.

“Drink that.”

The hands guided the glass to Halifax’s lips. He drank greedily, some of the water dribbling out the sides of his mouth.

Halifax looked up again, but the face was still blurry.

“Drink more, and take this.”

Halifax felt a pill deposited in his palm. He slapped that into his mouth and guzzled more water. He waited, hoping this was a quick-acting pill.

It was. The blurriness faded away so he could see normally. He stared at the ogre-man he’d seen earlier. Only this time the man wore nothing but a breechclout with the chrome collar around his neck. The short, stocky man had leathery, hairy skin, knotted muscles everywhere and outrageously long arms.

“What’s going on?” Halifax asked.

“Who are you?” the ogre-man replied, “an off-worlder or Coad-born?”

“Off-worlder,” Halifax said.

The dark eyes peered at him as if staring into his soul. “You lie.”

“Why would I bother?”

The man flexed his thick hands. “I should strangle you, but I hesitate.”

Halifax resisted the impulse to slide away from the killer. Instead, a name came unbidden to his lips. “Magister Uldin will kill you if you do that.”

The ogre-man opened his mouth. He had thick but otherwise normal teeth. “That would be sweet release. No. Uldin would torture me for days.”

“You want to die?”

“No. I want to kill the last Rhunes and destroy this hideous den of evil.”

Halifax rubbed his eyes. They felt sore, and his mind was still far too numb. The pill must have helped a little, for he was beginning to feel restless, that he could stand on his own if he tried.

“What did Uldin do to you?” the ogre-man demanded.

“I don’t—” Understanding hit as Halifax’s eyebrows shot up. “He read my mind. No. He forced me to recount my tale. I-I told him everything. At least, I think I did. I can’t remember enough. It was mostly a blur, although I believe I told him what happened from the Vellani Rift on.”

“It’s like I thought,” the ogre-man said. “He mind probed you. I wonder why.” A thick hand rose as if to slap him. “Tell me why he used a mind probe on you.”

“I-I can’t remember. Who are you anyway? I thought you were his slave.”

The ogre-man struck Halifax, knocking the doctor off the chair and onto the floor.

Halifax lay there, using his tongue to test for dislodged teeth. To his horror, one moved the tiniest bit. “You oaf, you almost knocked some teeth out. What’s wrong with you?”

The ogre-man crouched before the prone doctor. “Remember this. I’m no slave. I’m a prisoner of the Rhunes because I failed to die in battle.”

“You obeyed Uldin’s commands earlier.”

The ogre-man growled like an angry dog, causing Halifax to shrink back from him.

“Get up,” the ogre-man said gruffly. He grabbed an arm and remorseless pulled the doctor up and thrust him back onto the righted chair.

Halifax touched his sore jaw.

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t call me a slave again.”

Halifax glanced at the glowering subhuman, and he realized the man felt bad for having struck him. “What’s your name?”

“Name, you want my name? I would think you’d desire my rank.”

“Your name,” Halifax said.

“Skar 192.”

“What are you?”

“A fighting thrall for Eagle-Duke Dominic the Tenth.”

“Thrall is a type of slave,” Halifax said before he could help himself.

Skar’s brutish eyes narrowed dangerously until he shook his head. “You are not of Coad, or you would not have said such a thing to me. Who are you?”

“I come from outside,” Halifax said.

“You mean a different space-time continuum?”

Halifax’s head jerked back. “You know about those?”

“Everyone on Coad does. We are all descendants of those who fled or chased those who fled here, even we of the man-makers.”

“Is a man-maker a cyborg chop shop?”

Skar shook his head violently. “We don’t have time for foolishness. I came to kill you for witnessing my shame earlier. Now, I wonder if you’re what Uldin needs. I think I should destroy your body in the slicers so he can’t use your DNA. Uldin must need you because of your inner space-time matrix.”

Halifax rubbed his forehead. “You have to slow down. I don’t understand what you’re saying, and it’s freakish to see you looking like some caveman, and then hear you talk like a technician.”

“I’m a fighting thrall; a soldier like me needs brains. I’m not a worker drone of substandard genes. If you insult me again, I will snap your neck as if you’re a mad dog.”

“Uldin might come back. What happens if he sees you here?”

“Great pain for days upon days,” Skar said. “But that doesn’t matter. Tell me more.”

“My eyes hurt. My gut aches and my head throbs. Uldin drained me of knowledge—”

“Shhh,” Skar said, thrusting a thick index finger against Halifax’s lips. The ogre-man turned his head and listened. “Uldin returns. It is too soon.” Skar stared at Halifax, and it seemed he was going to say something. Then the fighting thrall turned sharply and dashed out the door he’d entered, silently closing it behind him.

Halifax wondered what he should do next: maybe pretend to sleep. Before he could decide, another hatch opened, and Magister Uldin in his black robe stepped into the chamber.

The bald Rhune halted, standing utterly still. His dark eyes glowed with inky power, and he nodded in the slightest manner possible. “So…my slaves believe…” He held up a hand. It glowed blue.

Seconds passed, and then a grunt sounded from behind the door Skar 192 had used to exit the chamber. The door opened and the ogre-man stumbled back in as if dragged by the chrome collar. His thick hands were around the collar as if he could tear it off. His tongue protruded and eyes bulged in agony.

Halifax stared in horror at the subhuman.

“Slave,” Uldin whispered. “This time, you have gone too far.”

Despite the protruding tongue and bulging eyes, Skar bellowed, charging Uldin. Before he reached the Rhune, Uldin raised a hand, palm outward, as if that would—Skar crashed against an invisible force. Uldin shoved his hand forward. The force flung Skar so he smashed against the far wall.

The fighting thrall slid to the floor, shook his head, stared at the Rhune, stood swaying—

Uldin spoke a word, and a force picked up and pinned Skar against the wall as if he were some huge grotesque insect.

The Magister did not show any emotion. He folded his hands within the sleeves of his robe and walked toward the straining but otherwise immobile wall-pinned Skar. Perspiration formed on the fighting thrall as he panted and strained.

“There’s no need for that,” Uldin said quietly. “You’re captured. Wearing yourself out as you do proves nothing except that you’re stupid. Is that really what you want to show me?”

Skar growled low in his throat, straining harder so his muscles rose starkly like cables. It didn’t matter. He did not move off the wall.

Uldin halted a foot from the ogre-man, regarding him. “Brute force versus applied science: who will win?” The Rhune turned, eyeing Halifax. “Do you know the answer?”

“Were you asking me?” Halifax said, dazed by all this.

“Must I pin you up there with him to show you my sincerity?”

Halifax winced at the threat. He strove to maintain a calm outward appearance. This was a nightmare world, and the Rhunes were horrid. He needed his wits, and that meant he had to swallow his terror. The best way to do that was to pretend to be brave. It was a false front, but “whatever worked” was his motto.

Halifax thus shook his head.

“With your gesture, you show a modicum more intelligence than this brute,” Uldin said. “I imagine he has dreams of winning his freedom and running rampant through the base, slaughtering me and my fellows. It is a vain wish, but those who act instinctively and physically show a remarkable need for hopes and dreams. Isn’t that odd?”

“I-I’m unsure,” Halifax managed to say.

“Should I slay him, Doctor?”

Halifax shrugged, feigning disinterest.

Uldin regarded the straining Skar. “Enough,” the Rhune said, snapping his fingers. “Sleep.”

Skar seemed to resist the order. Under the bony ridge of a solid eyebrow, his eyelids fluttered. He groaned, shouted and abruptly closed his eyes as his head slumped even more forward. He began to snore as his muscles quivered and then lay serenely relaxed.

Raising his right hand, Uldin manipulated the air. While still sound asleep, Skar floated onto the floor.

“How do you do that?” Halifax asked.

“Applied science, of course,” Uldin said. “Or do you think it’s magic?”

Halifax strove for calm, to appear unfazed. He said, “I don’t believe in magic.”

“How sophisticated of you, Doctor. Are you feeling well enough to walk?”

Halifax straightened from the chair. He was woozy, but it passed. Was that the pill at work in him? Would he be a quivering wreck otherwise?

“Good,” Uldin said. “Walk with me. I’ve something to show you.” The Rhune headed for the door he’d used to enter the chamber.

Halifax glanced at Skar snoring on the floor. Was the creature fully human? He said he’d come from a man-maker, which was what exactly?

Uldin halted and looked back at him.

“I…I’m wondering what’s going to happen to him,” Halifax said, indicating Skar.

“It’s none of your concern. Now follow, Doctor, while you still have the opportunity.” Uldin resumed his calm pace.

Halifax glanced once more at the fighting thrall, and decided that Uldin was many times more frightening than Skar. He hurried after the taller, thinner black-robed man, wondering what new nightmare was in store for him.

Chapter Twenty-One

At the end of a long corridor, Dr. Halifax followed Magister Uldin onto an open lift with a knee-high rail around it. The lift had the space of a normal elevator floor. The bottom whined softly as Uldin made a motion with his fingers.

The lift began to sink through a shaft, which hadn’t been visible until the railed lift began lowering. The motion caught Halifax by surprise, and he stumbled against Uldin. An electric shock from the Rhune caused Halifax to jerk away and he staggered until he crashed against the moving shaft. He leapt from that, the friction tearing his smock.

“Please pay attention, Doctor. Your buffoonery is annoying.”

Halifax touched a friction-burned forearm. He was trembling, frightened—did magic allow Uldin to act like an electric eel, able to shock? No, no, I don’t believe in magic. It must be his robe, an advanced technology net. No doubt, a secret unit in his hand controls the lift. He’s deliberately acting like a magician…to terrify me, trick me. Why do that, though? Ah, to baffle me so I’ll do something he requires.

The lift exited the shaft from the bottom, floating into a vast hangar bay.

Halifax groaned, reflexively knelt on one knee and put out his hands so the fingertips touched the floor of the lift. Even that was hardly enough. He wanted to lie on his stomach and clutch something in case this thing tilted and he slid off to his death.

“Your posture shows poor self-control,” Uldin said. “I shan’t let the lift tip sideways, so you’ll spill. Or don’t you trust me?”

“I…I can’t help it, Magister. We’re too high up for me to risk standing.”

“A fear of heights is a primitive reaction. I would have thought that the advanced intelligence you originally exhibited would put you beyond that.”

Halifax was breathing too hard to worry about the insult. Intellectually he believed Uldin wouldn’t tip the lift. The reptilian part of his brain thought otherwise. He debated closing his eyes…

What’s that?

Down there on the hangar-bay floor was a gargantuan vessel that dwarfed the Descartes. It wasn’t as large as Tarvoke’s free trader, though. The ship—it’s a spaceship—was long and curvaceous and was approximately the size of an ocean liner.

Well, well, well, a spaceship, one that could take me home. Halifax licked his lips. How could he hijack the ship? There had to be a way to leave this nightmare world.

“It is the Jinse Tao Star Cruiser,” Uldin said, “or you might think of it as the Golden Way Star Cruiser. We’re almost ready for travel.”

With his mind and hopes awhirl, Halifax kept staring down at it. “Do you plan on challenging Graven Tarvoke’s rule of the system?”

“A pox on that,” Uldin said. “We’re leaving the pocket universe—as you conceive of it—and reentering regular time and space, yours in particular.”

Halifax looked up in shock. “Why mine?”

“For a variety of reasons,” Uldin said. “My ancestors originated in your space-time continuum. That was long ago, and that is the second reason.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s no reason you should. Nor do I plan to enlighten your greedy curiosity further. The point is, the moment has arrived, and that is in large measure thanks to you.”

Halifax scowled. That didn’t make sense—oh. “Because of the Intersplit engine?” he asked.

“You should find this of interest.” Uldin made a motion.

The floating lift turned left, making Halifax’s stomach lurch. He panted, barely able to keep himself from lying flat. He noticed that they moved away from the spaceship, gently lowering as it headed for an annex to the far side.

Halifax tried to shift his position, but he could not. Fear of heights had frozen him. He peered around until his breath caught in his throat. He saw the Descartes parked in the annex. That allowed him a little motion as he craned his neck. Would you look at that! Various cables, massive boxes and elongating ladders were either attached, leaned against or supplied power to tools in the hands of collared ogre-men working on the ex-scout. Descartes’s intactness amazed him.

“I can’t believe it,” Halifax said. “The back section is whole again.”

“I know.”

Halifax looked up at Uldin. “How could you fix it so quickly?”

“Are you aware of nano-technology?”

“A little. Aren’t they tiny, tiny robots?”

“Indeed,” Uldin said. “The nanites refabricated the broken hull and fixed the slagged areas of the Intersplit engine.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Are you deliberately testing my patience?”

Since they were much lower to hangar-deck level, Halifax was able to climb to his feet and face the haughty Rhune. He bowed his head, putting contrition into his voice. Give him what he wants so he drops his guard. “I’m sorry, Magister. That wasn’t my intent. It’s simply that I’m overjoyed to find the Descartes in one piece.”

“You surprise me, Doctor. I would not think a person like you would rejoice at our confiscating your ship for our own use. Are you emotionally attached to the vessel, perhaps, so you’re happy it’s intact?”

“Uh, why would you show me the ship if you’re not going to give it back to me?”

“Surprisingly, that is an astute question. I am showing you this for a reason. You will aid us in our departure, and you will do so in the…the Descartes, you call it?”

Is he serious? “How will I aid you in your grand enterprise?”

“By piloting your vessel according to my precise specifications,” Uldin said.

A worm of worry bored into Halifax’s heart. These nightmare Rhunes would leave little to chance. In other words, how would they make sure he obeyed their orders if he was alone on the Descartes?

The doctor cleared his throat, raising his chin. “Magister, where I come from, a good deed ensures another good deed. What I mean is that you healed me, putting me in your debt. As a matter of honor, I’ve adhered to such moral codes since birth. Therefore, I’ll gladly aid you, strictly following your orders as I pilot the Descartes.”

“Excellent news,” Uldin said. “Thus, you won’t balk when we insert an obedience chip into you to ensure precise service.”

“Such talk saddens me, Magister. I’m a man of honor, needing no coercion in such things. You saved my life. I would rather die than besmirch your goodness by doing you a bad turn. I ask you to allow me to aid you freely so we both keep our karma clean.”

“Your quaint notions are meaningless to me,” Uldin said. “Have you seen enough then?”

“I-I don’t know. I have no way to gauge that.”

“Logically stated,” Uldin said. “I will repair your deficiency in part, as your knowledge will expedite matters.”

The Rhune moved a finger.

The lift rose abruptly, catching Halifax by surprise. He stumbled and dropped to the floor, sitting with an oomph. The rising lift picked up speed, causing the doctor’s gut to knot and worry to renew. Was Uldin taking him to an operating theater to they could insert an obedience chip into his brain? He shivered with dread. This was getting worse and worse. He looked up, seeing a high landing near the ceiling.

How do I get out of this? What can I do? Think, Doctor, think. If this demon gives you half a chance, act before they turn you into a zombie.

In moments, the lift parked beside a metal tongue that led to an open archway and corridor. Uldin walked past the sitting doctor, heading for the arch. The Rhune paused, turning to him.

“Are you coming?”

Trembling, terrified and outraged this could be happening to him, Halifax crawled off the lift onto the tongue of metal. He crawled after Uldin and only climbed to his feet once walls surrounded him.

“That was undignified to say the least,” Uldin commented. “But survival is more important than dignity, is that not so?”

Halifax nodded.

“That is a Rhune concept,” Uldin said.

If Halifax had a gun, he would have emptied it into the smug bastard.

They kept walking, turned in the corridor and came upon a closed hatch.

Is this it? I hope this isn’t it.

Uldin made a motion. The hatch slid open. The two walked into a large chamber. A trembling Halifax glanced around and breathed easier, as there were no operating tables or surgeons. At the far end was a large screen on the wall. Underneath was a bank of controls.

“Number Three Sky-Raft, Control Chamber,” Uldin said as he walked to the screen.

Halifax followed and was startled as Cade behind some kind of controls appeared on the screen. Behind the soldier was a beautiful woman with a torn bloody blouse. She watched Cade with a serene but rather wicked, sleepy smile.

Uldin glanced at him.

Halifax held himself perfectly still as he maintained a poker face.

“Oh, come, come, Doctor, as a man of honor you’re not going to pretend that you don’t know the Ultra, are you?”

Halifax immediately smiled. “Do you mean Marcus Cade?”

“Let me guess,” Uldin said, tapping his chin. “He’s Centurion Grade, is he not?”

Halifax failed to hide his surprise. “How the hell did you know that?”

“Breadth of knowledge should suffice for an answer,” Uldin said. “Your fellow traveler has pirated Number Three Sky-Raft. The personnel must have become careless to allow that. I warned them of the Ultra’s deadliness, but clearly, they did not prepare sufficiently. It is a small thing. Since they proved unequal to the task, we are better off with them dead.”

“Are you speaking about Rhunes or fighting thralls?”

Uldin regarded Halifax. “Your ignorance leads you to ask stupid questions. I weary of those in a metaphysical sense. Refrain from asking me further questions, as I will tell you what you need to know. Marcus Cade races to us. Yet, I dislike his freedom of motion, as he could prove troublesome to a slight degree. I have already given the orders concerning that. You see, Doctor, he, more than you, is important to my dealings with Tarvoke. I could make a double of Cade, I suppose, but that would entail delay. It is imperative that we leave as soon as possible. It is strange, but if I believed in such a thing as an Ultimate Deity, I would think He has aided us with your appearance on Coad. Instead, I’m a realist. Chance has played us a random hand, this time in our favor. This chance I’m grasping with both hands, as people used to say.”

Look at that. Cade has defeated Rhunes and stolen a sky-raft. From what Halifax had seen so far, defeating Rhunes should have been impossible. But if anyone could, it would be the damned soldier. Halifax studied Cade, his stiff and determined features.

“You’re itchy with curiosity,” Uldin said. “It literally exudes from you. Know that Tarvoke was correct in attempting to destroy your vessel. He failed. Now, it is my turn to make a move upon the board. I will not make a half-stroke as Tarvoke did. I will succeed in the great task, and the universe shall know…”

Uldin snapped his fingers. The images on the screen vanished. “I don’t believe in fate. I don’t believe in luck. What could have brought you here, I wonder. Perhaps I did not ask you deeply enough earlier. Look into my eyes, Doctor. I wish to know what happened before you entered the vortex. Why were you in the Vellani Rift in the first place, hmm?”

Halifax tried to look away but failed as a force compelled him. What’s he doing to me? No, I will not obey. I will…not…

Halifax stared into Uldin’s expanding eyes. Like before, the orbs grew to enormous size. The doctor felt drowsy as he began to speak about what had happened on the water moon Ember in the Sestos System with Tarragon Down.

***

Halifax groaned in dismay, his head pounding and his eyes watering from the bright overhead light. He lay on a hard floor—

No! He did it again. I can’t believe this.

The doctor laid his right arm over his eyes, the darkness bringing him a little relief from the pain. Uldin had asked probing questions, and despite himself, Halifax had answered as well as he could. For some reason, it felt as if this interrogation had gone quicker than before.

How does he do it? I’m supposed to be immune to hypnotism. I hate him and his freakish strength of will.

Halifax took a deeper breath. Railing against fate wasn’t going to help. His best asset was his mind. His intelligence training might have kicked in then. He took another deep breath, realizing he needed to think fast, or he was going to become a mental zombie and help the nightmare Rhunes.

Okay. Look. The Magister poses as a wizard, but claims to despise luck, fate or anything else that might touch upon magic.

Halifax shook his head. He didn’t know how that helped him. Cade was coming, a passenger aboard a sky-raft. He had a woman with him. Who was she? A looker, that was for sure.

Halifax stiffened as he heard the click of approaching heels. He debated if he should move or pretend to be asleep. The footsteps halted near his head.

“Are you still out?” Uldin asked.

He knows you’re awake. So he asked, “Why do my eyes hurt so much?”

“It’s a byproduct of the process. The pain will pass.”

“Are you suggesting the flood of knowledge is painful to my eyes as it passes through them?”

“That would be poetic license. I’m not fond of such an imprecise use of the language. No, the pain is due to your resistance. Many feel nothing, as they succumb easily.”

“Why do I feel as if you’re lying?”

There was silence.

“Did I say something wrong?” Halifax asked.

“Indeed,” Uldin said in a quiet cold voice.

Halifax removed his arm to see the Rhune standing beside him. Rule One: don’t act like a victim. Lying here like one makes you seem like one. The doctor groaned as he sat up with his eyes closed. He felt the floor with his palms and pushed up. He was light-headed—

“No, no, Doctor. Now isn’t a good time to faint.”

Uldin gripped one of Halifax’s elbows, steadying him. Halifax half-panicked and pulled his arm away. The Rhune released him. Halifax staggered until he bumped against a wall. He leaned against it, gaining strength. Opening his eyes—pain erupted as blackness threatened his consciousness.

“Enough,” Uldin said, touching the doctor’s forehead.

What’s he doing?

Heat flooded as the pain and mental numbness dissipated. Uldin removed his fingers. Halifax pushed off the wall, blinking, touching his forehead. It wasn’t hot, but it didn’t hurt anymore. Surprisingly, his stomach growled. He wanted a ham sandwich and a cold beer, maybe two.

“Magister, can I ask what you’re doing to me at these times?”

“It should be obvious. I’m accelerating your bodily healing processes. It isn’t magic, although it is helpful.”

“That was how you knit my collarbone before?”

“Let us be precise. I accelerated the process. Your body did the actual knitting. It’s why you became ravenous and parched. Your body desires protein in particular, but always needs more water after such quick repair.”

“That’s amazing.”

Uldin dipped his head. “I am a Rhune. It is synonymous with amazing, I admit.”

Halifax cocked his head. What has gotten into him? Use your mind. It’s all you have left.

“Uh, sir, you didn’t exhibit much humor before, much emotion at all. Yet now, you’re almost giddy.”

“You have a Class Three intellect indeed. Did I not say so in the beginning? You perceive correctly on both issues, although I would not use the word giddy. Rather, I marvel in a deeply intellectual way. An ancient plan appears to have succeeded. I went to check your ship, your Nion XT Navigator in particular. There, I learned that it did the trick for us. It lured you into the Vellani Rift and chose the correct vortex. You are not here by chance at all, but the culmination of what I call a space seed.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“You told me about an arms dealer, one named Tarragon Down of Sestos III. He must have claimed the space seed for his own and it warped his thinking. I suspect he dealt with the one the seed had originally penetrated.”

Halifax must have shown his surprise.

“I’ve never seen such a space seed,” Uldin said. “But I’ve read about them and always wondered if they truly existed. This proves they did, or one did, at least. Now, now, Doctor, let’s remove that dumbfounded look of idiocy from your face, as it doesn’t suit you in the least. One of my predecessors—an individual who went mad because of his heightened genius—found clues in the alien script…” Uldin paused, clearing his throat before continuing. “My predecessor found clues concerning an ancient object, an amplified technological item long ago set adrift in your space-time continuum. He believed the space seed’s purpose was to warp the mind of those it reached, causing them to desire the rift and a particular vortex. It’s quite possible this seed meant to draw one with an Intersplit engine to the pocket universe.”

“An alien seed?” asked Halifax.

“No, no, not a living thing, but a technological object with strange properties. As I said, my predecessor had an active imagination and could decipher some of the alien script—” Uldin sighed. “Never mind about the script or the aliens. My predecessor made fantastic leaps in certain areas concerning Rhune improvement and refinement. For instance, can you guess my age?”

“A well-preserved seventy,” Halifax said.

“Not even close. I’m over four hundred years old.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I’m proof it is possible. Still, that isn’t the issue. You’ve settled my mind. The ancient seed not only existed in the end, but it worked, fulfilling its duty. According to my predecessor, the seed would have been shaped like a tiny globe showing representations of stars and nebulae. In any case, fate has played positively no part in all this. Rather, all comes together due to Rhune mastery and understanding. Your space-time continuum will be the test case for the next step in our Master Plan. Later, once we rule your continuum, I suppose my descendants shall use the pocket universe as a way-station to travel to other dimensions.”

Keep him talking. “You’re planning to conquer my space-time?”

“Not personally, of course, but the Rhunes in general will. We are the superior life form. Before you object, I should ask if you feel any remorse for the lesser hominids that Homo sapiens replaced on the prehistoric Earth.”

Halifax blinked several times in lieu of answering.

“There has been a change in the timetable, however,” Uldin said. “These new developments demand an accelerated approach. If one space seed existed, there may be others in closer proximity. But such factors need not concern you specifically. We no longer have the time to insert an obedience chip into you.”

“Oh. Well, that’s no problem. I’m still beholden to you personally. Tell me what you need—”

“Listen to me,” Uldin said, interrupting. “I am well aware you consider yourself an agile intelligence agent, a case officer. You despise my ability to control your will and force answers. Your idea about karma was a false front to attempt to fool me.” Uldin raised a hand. “Do not interrupt me. I plan to appeal to your dedicated self-interest. In other words, I’m about to apply the carrot and stick and see which is more effective. With fighting thralls, the stick is the only process they understand. Which do you prefer, Doctor?”

“Uh…since you put it like that…the carrot, of course. I should let you know that I react violently against the stick. It has never worked on me. But the carrot—what is in it for me?”

“I offer you two choices. One, you may become a Rhune.”

Halifax’s eyes widened. “Like you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Uldin said. “I am the Magister, the Supreme Rhune. You shall become a lesser Rhune, but one just the same.”

“Uh, wait. How do I become a Rhune?”

“That is unimportant at present. You will learn at the proper time.”

“Okay… What’s the second choice?”

Uldin said nothing.

“I, uh, take it there is no second choice other than death.”

“Correct,” Uldin said.

You’re one smug son-of-a-bitch. Halifax bowed his head. “I’d much prefer to become a Rhune.”

“I thought as much. You will begin the transformation after you do your duty to the collective.”

“You mean after I trick Tarvoke?”

“No, after you trick Marcus Cade and through him Tarvoke. If Cade operates as expected as an Ultra, he will be like a coiled spring, filled with great tension. It is easier to maneuver him through deception—well, you need not know the exact procedure. It is enough that you do your part.”

“You’re asking me to betray my friend? Cade is my friend, you know?”

Uldin said nothing.

Halifax turned away, feigning indecision until he finally nodded slowly. “Okay…I hate to do this, but if it’s the only way to escape death…”

Uldin still did not respond.

Halifax faced him.

“Do you think that is sufficient?” Uldin asked.

“Beg pardon?”

“Do you think I’m deceived by your ham-handed ploy?”

Keep thinking I’m an idiot, big shot. “I guess not,” the doctor muttered.

“Come, let’s go.”

With slumped shoulders, Halifax walked ahead of Uldin as they started for the lift. This was bad, really bad, and unless he could come up with a miracle, he was going to spend the rest of his miserable life with the nightmarish Rhunes.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The sky-raft sped through the cloudless sky eighty meters above the ocean. There was no way to change course as of yet. Cade had tried several times but failed, finally heading outside to rethink his options.

Velia joined him on the forward deck. She didn’t shiver anymore or sweat due to pain. The healing salve had done wonders to her burned skin. The passage of wind must have also felt good and reviving.

“I’ve been thinking,” Cade said.

Velia glanced at him sidelong.

“You hinted earlier that you’re not a Rhune spy.”

“I’m not,” she said.

“The trouble is I’m not buying the act. I’ve reconsidered the things you’ve done. The only conclusion is you’re a spy for the Rhunes.”

“I’m pleased if that’s what you think, as I hope the Rhunes believe the same thing.”

“No. From what I’ve seen, you must have implants inside you.”

“A tracker, but that’s it.”

“Velia…in certain ways, the Rhunes act like cyborgs. They never tell you how much they’re going to screw with your basic humanity when they capture and implant you. You have no idea what they put inside you unless you’re a Rhune.”

“The way you talk, it sounds like you’ve faced cyborgs before.”

Cade nodded, as he grew moody, remembering.

Velia studied him. “In light of this, your actions make more sense. You attacked the Rhunes as if you had a personal grudge against them. Clearly, you hate cyborgs.”

Cade grunted the affirmative.

She sighed, staring into the horizon, shaking your head. “None of this might make any difference, anyway.”

“Why?”

“The Eagle-Dukes and Rhunes have been warring against each other since the beginning. I believe they came from your war.”

“My war was in a different space-time continuum. For Rhunes and Eagle-Dukes to have come here—” Cade’s jaw dropped as a new realization sank in. “The cyborg mobile base, the ancestral railguns guarding the mountain fortresses, everyone here did come from my space-time continuum. The question is when.” He scowled. “Given the mobile base, the Raptor 5000s and this—” Cade pulled out the Lupus 19 Energy Gun. “The exodus from our space-time continuum must have happened during The War, from my original time, in other words. You people must be descended from various factions from The War. The Eagle-Dukes—the man-makers—what are fighting thralls like?”

“Some move fast like you. Some are powerful like you.”

“They must be a form of Ultra then,” Cade whispered. Furrow lines appeared on his forehead. “But what about the Rhunes? There were never cyborgs like them during The War.”

“I don’t have an answer for that.”

He gave her a piercing glance. “You said earlier that the Eagle-Dukes would have launched a thousand torpedoes if they knew the whereabouts of the last Rhune base. Does that mean the Eagle-Dukes destroyed the other Rhune bases?”

“A few,” Velia said. “I don’t know about all. From what our intelligence services have found, a strange disease slaughtered the majority of formerly existing Rhunes.”

“You’re part of those intelligence services?”

Velia nodded.

“And Dorian Blue?”

“Was my second cousin and lover like I said,” Velia told him. “I wormed my way into his confidence, and possibly the Rhunes suspected me as an enemy. I changed their minds when Dorian brought me to them.” Velia made a sour sound. “I’ve been playing a part for so long I hardly remember the person I was. At first, I wondered if you were an elaborate Rhune ploy. Now, I don’t think so.”

“Does Tarvoke know about the Eagle-Duke intelligence services?”

Velia shrugged. “I’m not privy to the highest dealings of the service.”

“One service, not many?” asked Cade.

She stared at him.

“I’m almost beginning to believe you,” Cade said. “Do you truly have a Rhune tracker in you?”

“As far as I know,” she said.

“Did you radio the Rhunes earlier?”

Velia shook her head. “The sky-raft approached the Day Star too soon. The Rhunes must have sent it after Dorian spied you or after you slew Dorian. If only they’d delayed sending the raft just a little longer.”

“Why?”

Velia’s nostrils flared as she searched his face. “I don’t know if I dare trust you with my people’s fate. Your spaceship came at just the wrong time. A little longer, and I think the plague raging through the Rhune fortresses would have slain the last of them.”

“Let me stop you right there.” Cade searched for the right words. “How are the Rhunes able to achieve their feats of what seems like magic? After all this time, the Eagle-Dukes’ intelligence service must have figured it out.”

“Of course.”

“How?” Cade half-shouted.

“You said it earlier,” she told him. “They have implants, powerful ones. According to a briefing I once received, they have extra sensitivities, energies, projections, nullifications, emanations, new glands to counter fatigue and poisons and some have enhanced intelligence in ways we haven’t yet discovered. They pose as logicians, but ape the manner of magicians, as you’ve suggested. Their original name for themselves was cyber techs.”

“Cyber as in cyborgs,” Cade whispered.

Velia nodded. “Our earliest history indicates the giant spaceship around Sarus—”

“Do you mean the nearest gas giant?”

“Yes,” she said, “the Jovian planet Sarus.”

“Go on.”

“According to the oldest lore, the giant cyborg ship chased the Rhune vessels that had fled to his lonely system. The cyborgs almost destroyed the fleeing Rhunes, too, but the cyber techs employed some of their technical sorcery against the giant craft. The stricken vessel parked in Sarus orbit, and there it has remained to this day.”

“Just a minute,” Cade said. “You’re saying that happened over a thousand years ago?”

“That sounds about right.”

“But I saw particles leaking from the hull rupture. After one thousand years, that shouldn’t be possible.”

“I know nothing about that, but I think Graven Tarvoke does.”

“Did Tarvoke really land on Coad?” Cade asked.

“Years ago, yes.”

“And?”

Velia shrugged. “I have no idea what happened after that, except to say that he eventually made it back into space and his ship.”

“What about the Eagle-Dukes?” asked Cade. “When did they arrive on Coad?”

“Just in time to witness the Rhune strike against the giant cyborg ship,” Velia said. “Then, strange magic or high unfathomable technology, take your pick, sabotaged our ancestors’ fleet. Some perished in the Kuiper Belt. Others barely made it to Coad. The ancestral railguns came from the surviving landing ships. Another strike from a mysterious source gutted much of the remaining technology.”

“A mysterious Rhune source?” asked Cade.

“Our history says otherwise, as the Rhunes received a massive setback at that time, too.”

“You mean…there’s a third or fourth party in play, one that no one has discovered?”

“I don’t know about that,” Velia said, “as I’m just a pawn in a vicious spy game. I’m not privy to higher strategy or the secret thoughts or knowledge of the Eagle-Dukes. I do know our basic history, but not the deep secrets.”

“What was or is your intelligence service’s ultimate goal?” Cade asked.

“That should be obvious. We desire to obliterate the Rhunes while we can. Given enough time, they will become cyber-tech gods. They seek ever more power, grafting machines and other parts to themselves in painful and sometimes horrific surgeries.”

“Why haven’t the Rhunes obliterated the humans on Coad?”

“They’ve tried more than once,” Velia said. “Hundreds of thousands of people died each time. That finally galvanized the Eagle-Dukes into shelving their internecine wars and creating one over-reaching secret service to battle the Rhunes in kind.”

“Where does Graven Tarvoke stand in all this?”

“He’s a complication, but he appears to have sided with humans over the Rhunes in most things. I think he is what he claims to be: an outsider from a different space-time continuum than ours.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Cade said, as he stroked his chin. “Who made the pocket universe?”

“Maybe the mysterious third or fourth party you spoke about,” Velia said. “Maybe the Rhunes know, but they haven’t told us.”

Cade took several steps closer to the edge. He halted, looking down at the passing waters. He stood there in order to give Velia an opportunity to try to push him. He would hear her footsteps if she moved quickly. If she tried to shove him, he’d know that she was snowing him. Hearing nothing, he looked back to see her standing at the same location, watching him.

Thoughtful, he walked back to her. “You believe the sky-raft is heading for the last Rhune base, an underwater facility that no Eagle-Duke has been able to find. Oh,” he said. “I understand. We’re bait—no, not bait exactly. We’re the advance scout. In some manner, you’ve rigged a signal device. Maybe the device is in you.”

“You give me too much credit,” she said.

“Whatever your real goals, you’ve acted with cunning and courage. If anything, I don’t give you enough credit.” He waited as he let that sink in and for her to attempt something.

Maybe she understood that, for she smiled. “Do you think I could outdraw you?”

“I know you can’t.”

“The famous Ultra arrogance,” she said quietly. “It’s why my ancestors resorted to man-makers. We wanted to keep our Ultras under control. The designers limited the fighting thralls, unwilling to give them all the Ultra traits.”

“Am I correct about you and I being the advance party for an Eagle-Duke strike-force?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”

“How are the others going to reach the hidden Rhune base?”

Velia stared at him, looked away, sighed and regarded him once more. “Lord Magnus has probably already launched the bulk of his air fleet. Will they arrive at the Rhune base while we’re still alive? I seriously doubt that.”

“Airships?” Cade asked with surprise. “The Rhunes will burn an air fleet with ease. We could do it ourselves with the sky-raft and its cannon.”

“Don’t underestimate the Eagle-Dukes or Lord Magnus.”

“Meaning what?” asked Cade.

“That the humans are winning the overall war,” Velia said quietly. “Remember, there’s only one Rhune base left. The others have fallen. How do you think we achieved that?”

“You already said, through a terrible disease.”

“That’s our best guess. The truth is that we don’t really know.”

Cade thought about that, about air fleets, sky-rafts and a possible hidden enemy. He turned and walked around the control cabin to stare into the distance behind them. Afterward, he peered in other directions, searching for some indication of an air fleet or other type of airborne transportation. The sky was the same color as far as he could see, with no specks to indicate others.

Velia joined him.

“Do the Eagle-Dukes have submarines?” he asked.

“Just torpedoes,” she said.

Cade pulled out the Lupus 19 Energy Gun, checking the charge. It was almost full. Tucking the gun away, he headed for the cabin. It was time to take decisive action. A gun, no matter how powerful, wasn’t enough to win free of Coad. He needed something bigger, more destructive.

It struck him then. If he couldn’t figure out how to regain control of the sky-raft, maybe he could tamper with its mechanisms and create a mobile bomb. Maybe he could take out the last base in an explosive ball of fury. He’d have to figure out a way to survive if he could, but even if he died, that would be better than aiding the Rhunes in some manner.

Yet, wouldn’t that mean he’d be aiding the cyborgs? They’d wanted to destroy the Rhunes. Was the enemy of my enemy truly my friend? If the Rhunes wanted to defeat the cyborgs—

“The cyborgs are defeated,” Cade muttered.

“What was that?” Velia asked, as she walked through the doorway.

Cade glanced back at her. “Can we rig the sky-raft to blow?”

“And kill ourselves?”

“Not if I can help it. But we could destroy the last Rhune base.”

She studied his face until a change swept over her. She bit her lower lip, turning away and balling her fingers into fists, which shook.

“What’s wrong now?” Cade asked.

“You’re willing to die in order to kill Rhunes?” she whispered.

No. That wasn’t the plan. Shouldn’t a secret agent be willing to do that, though?

“They’re really cyborgs,” he said briskly, “and I’m trapped in a pocket universe. Yes! If I can’t escape this place, I’ll slay as many cyborg-Rhunes as I can. Now, help me rig this thing, so I can give the last Rhune base a mighty sendoff.”

Her shoulders shook. “I don’t want to die, Cade. Not like that.”

“We all die sometime,” he said with a shrug. “Why not while we’re striking back at our enemies?”

Velia gulped air, and that seemed to steady her. She faced him, saying, “If I help you, I have a final request.”

He nodded.

Her eyes gleamed as she said, “I want you to make love to me before we die.”

Cade’s features hardened. She was pissing him off about this. “Hey, if I’m about to die, I’m going to do it as a faithful husband to the end. I love my wife, and I took an oath made in love. I will not sully that in my final hour.”

Velia shut the door behind her, leaning against it provocatively. “I’m going to change your mind about that, Cade,” she said softly, as she began to unbutton what remained of her blouse.

This was too much. Cade turned his back on her, crouching at the controls, prying off a panel with his fingertips. He heard her approach. It bothered him that his heart thudded faster. What was he going to do if she draped herself naked against him? He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. He would resist despite the temptation. Raina, I’m coming back to you, darling.

“Cade,” Velia whispered, picking up something that rustled against fabric. Or maybe she set her blouse onto a chair.

He purposely ignored her, as he realized she was doing her damnest to crack his resolve.

That was when a prickling sensation caused him to hunch his shoulders, and something crashed against the back of his head, dashing his forehead against the bottom control panel. He groaned in pain, turning, seeing Velia standing with a two-handed tool. Tears leaked from her eyes as she raised it.

“I don’t want to do this,” she wept, swinging the tool at him.

He shifted fast—although not quite fast enough. The metal clipped the side of his head before clanging against the control panel.

“They’re making me do this,” Velia cried, with tears in her eyes. “Why don’t you let me knock you out? This is for the best, don’t you see?”

She swung again, and once again, Cade, although groggy, slipped his head to the side, only taking part of the blow. She leaped back. Cade had twisted to face her as he thumped onto his butt. He moved a leg just in time, using his left foot to hook the back of an ankle. She went down, the tool clanging onto the floor.

Despite the throbbing at the back of his head—his dizziness—Cade worked up to his feet. Velia scrambled upright, glanced around and surged to the fallen tool. She picked it up. The tears had stopped.

Had the Rhunes made her cry in order to soften his resolve? Cade drew the blaster, aiming at her midsection. “I wouldn’t try it,” he said thickly.

“I hit your square on the back of the head the first time. Why won’t you go down?”

“What part of you is still Velia De Lore?”

The tears started again. “I-I didn’t want to do that, Cade. You must believe me. It was a damned compulsion, a force in my mind. You were right earlier. The Rhunes screwed with my humanity. I did work for the Eagle-Duke secret service. Uldin forced me to tell him everything about it before he had his techs insert controls in my brain.”

“Who’s Uldin?”

Velia quivered, which shook the tool in her hands. “Please,” she whispered. “Stop it. He’ll kill me if I say more.”

“Is anything you’ve told me true?”

The tears streamed down her cheeks. “All of it is true. I’m a pawn, a lost pawn in a long ugly war. But I don’t want to die because of that. I want to live. I want to love, really love. Why can’t you love me, Cade?”

Once more, his features hardened. She knew the reason.

Velia trembled violently, and she moaned as she raised the tool. “No!” she howled. “I refuse!” Her fingers opened. The tool dropped from her grip, hitting the floor. She lowered her face and wept bitterly against her hands.

Cade’s fury shifted from Velia to the Rhunes and cyborgs that messed with people. They used others as if they were machines, or disposable items. It was part of their makeup to do that. Wait. Group Six used a cyborg chip to control you. Others than just cyborgs used people: humans did it too.

“We’re doomed,” Velia said. “I had so hoped—”

There was a whine, a loud whine from outside that cut her off.

Cade moved for the door, grabbing one of Velia’s arms and spinning her around. He marched her outside, with the Lupus 19 Energy Gun aimed at the side of her head as he held her before him like a shield.

Three large sky-rafts drifted down from higher up, the chrome under-housings doing the whining.

Velia moaned in dread, shrinking back against him.

Is that why she’d tried to knock him unconscious? Were Rhunes descending? Why hadn’t he seen these sky-rafts earlier? Did they possess special cloaking or camouflage?

He slipped an arm around Velia’s throat, putting her in a chokehold. As gently as possible, he squeezed until she couldn’t breathe. She grabbed his arm, struggling, but he continued to choke. He wanted her unconscious so the Rhunes couldn’t see through her eyes, but he didn’t want to hit her if he didn’t have to. Velia’s eyelids fluttered as she slumped unconscious against him. Cade laid her on the deck.

Then, with a snarl, Cade aimed the Lupus 19 Energy Gun at the chrome under-housings.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cade stared up at the chrome under-housings of the three descending sky-rafts. The housings vibrated and whined, providing the gravity dampening needed for flight.

If these were Rhunes coming down, he should target housings on each raft and fire the Lupus 19. That might cause an explosion. It would certainly destroy the mechanisms in the housings, and that might cause each raft to plummet to the sea. Then again, exploding housings might send shrapnel against him, killing him or incapacitating his sky-raft. On the other hand, these might conceivably be Lord Magnus’s teams, using stolen Rhune rafts. If he were an Eagle-Duke, one of his top priorities throughout the years would have been in capturing rafts, collecting them for a great and terrible day against the Rhunes. There was even a third possibility. Velia had spoken about a third or fourth party, a mystery side that had something to do with the pocket universe’s creation.

Why had Velia struck now? Correction—why had the Rhunes forced Velia to strike now? Was it to stop him from possibly doing what he presently planned: making a bomb out of the raft? Or did they fear Lord Magnus gaining his aid? Would Velia have clubbed him to death at the Rhunes’ orders?

The possibilities and counter-possibilities plagued Cade, bringing indecision. The worst thing in a firefight was doing nothing. He’d rendered Velia unconscious so he could act without hindrance. For once, Cade’s gut seethed. He was beginning to hate Coad. Spying and uncovering spies was so much different from regular soldier work.

As he considered these things, the three sky-rafts continued to descend. He noted that each vessel was larger than his raft, double or triple in size. Was that what had given him second thoughts about beaming the housings?

Cade thrust the energy gun under his waistband, picked up Velia and hurried into the control cabin. He tucked her out of sight and then strolled out of the cabin, closing the door behind him.

The lowest raft slowed its descent, as the deck became level with his. The opposing raft was triple the size of his, with three military guns or cannons aimed at his vessel. Hooded, robed individuals manned each weapon.

The other two rafts slid down, each of them at an equidistant point of an equilateral triangle, with his raft between theirs. Cade inclined his head as if in greeting. He couldn’t tell yet if these were Rhunes or not.

“Ahoy, there,” a hidden man shouted with a loudspeaker from the control cabin of the largest raft.

Cade cocked his head, surprised, as he recognized the voice.

“Disarm yourself, sir,” the hidden man called.

Cade held up his hands to show he carried nothing. It struck him where he’d heard the voice before—when speaking to Graven Tarvoke on the Descartes’ comm. Was this yet another duplicate of the free-trading captain or would the man willing come onto Coad?

“Where’s the woman?” asked the hidden man with Tarvoke’s voice.

Cade pointed at his control cabin.

“Are you Marcus Cade?”

The soldier nodded.

“Cat got your tongue?” asked the hidden man with humor.

Cade noticed that each raft perfectly matched his velocity as it presumably traveled to the hidden Rhune base. He noticed, too, that each control-cabin window was black-tinted so he couldn’t see within.

“Do you wonder at my identity, sir?”

Cade cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, “You’re Captain Graven Tarvoke of the Free Trader Cyprian.”

There was silence from the hidden other…until, “Damn you, man. At least act a little surprised. Lord Magnus was.”

Cade shrugged.

“Very well,” Tarvoke said through his loudspeaker. “Get the woman and cross to my raft. I have a proposal for you…if you’re willing.”

Cade considered his options. He didn’t have many. Thus, turning, he retrieved Velia from the cabin, carrying her in his arms to the edge of the raft. The other craft waited, with the gap several meters in width. The robed hooded men—for they were men posing as Rhune, he now saw—still manned their military guns, nine cannons from three sky-rafts ready to blow his poor vessel to pieces.

Cade backed up, ran and launched himself airborne, landing on the other deck with Velia cradled in his arms.

The three surrounding sky-rafts began backing away from the Rhune vessel, keeping level with it and keeping it equidistant from each of their crafts.

The door to the new control cabin opened and four stocky subhumans boiled out. They had dangling knotted arms, forward-thrusting heads with bony eye ridges and wore mesh shirts and leather pants with boots. Swords and pistols dangled from their black belts. These were regular-looking pistols, revolvers like the WAK .55 Magnum, but a smaller caliber.

The fighting thralls—Cade supposed—flanked him. One on each side grabbed his upper arms. They had powerful holds, although the top of their heads did not reach as high as his shoulders.

The door opened again, and two men walked out.

Cade squinted as the two shimmered or flickered oddly for just a moment. What was wrong with them? They ceased flickering like bad reception but—Cade shook his head. There was something strange going on with them. He would figure out what soon enough, but not worry about it this instant.

The first man was small in stature but straight like a rapier. He wore a brown military uniform, with a knife and flintlock pistol belted at his waist. He had sharp features like a miniature hawk, with extraordinarily hairy and messy eyebrows, and wore a long-billed military hat. The second man was huge, as in fat, with fat jowls, fat-enfolded eyes and huge pudgy fingers. He wore a red, green and orange-colored gown and pantaloons, each oversized and made with a silky fiber. The fat man wore many colorful, gaudy rings on his fingers and had a turban on his head with a giant red ruby for adornment. Curly-toed slippers completed his ensemble.

The first man clicked his heels together and bowed at the waist. “I am Lord Magnus,” he said, “the strong right arm of the Eagle-Dukes of Coad.”

“I’m Marcus Cade, sir.”

“A-ha!” the fat man cried. “I’m Captain Graven Tarvoke as you guessed. I’m sure you’re surprised to see me here.”

Cade inclined his head.

“Who is the dish?” Tarvoke asked about Velia.

Cade glanced at Lord Magnus.

The hawkish lord turned to Tarvoke. “She is an accredited member of my host, sir.”

“And what else?” asked Tarvoke.

“That is it,” Magnus said.

“No. It. Isn’t,” Tarvoke said. “Am I right, Cade?”

The soldier did not respond, as he noticed the wind shifting the hair of the fighting thralls he could see. The wind—caused by the sky-raft’s flight—did not ruffle Lord Magnus or Captain Tarvoke’s garments. Why was that? Did it have something to do with their original flickering appearance?

“Wake up the woman,” Tarvoke said. “I wish to question her.”

“I suggest otherwise,” Cade said, “as I went to considerable trouble safely rendering her unconscious.”

“Oh?” asked Tarvoke.

“If Lord Magus won’t say it, I will,” Cade replied. “The Rhunes have modified her.”

Magnus frowned. “This is news to me. Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes,” Cade said.

“I’m sure, too, then,” Tarvoke told Magnus.

Magnus nodded a moment later. “Leave her out here then while we retire to the cabin.”

“There’s no need for that,” Tarvoke said. “I have a device that will ensure she remains in her present state.”

“Will the device harm her?” Cade asked.

“It shouldn’t.”

“That’s not good enough,” Cade said. He was in love with Raina, but he’d come to admire Velia enough that he wouldn’t let the space thug hurt her.

Tarvoke grinned. “I assure you, she will be unharmed by the device.”

“If you’re lying,” Cade said, “you’ll regret it.”

Tarvoke’s eyes, the little anyone could see of them, glittered with glee. He indicated the control cabin. Then Magnus and Tarvoke led the way. Cade carrying a sleeping Velia followed, with two fighting thralls continuing to hold his arms.

The interior cabin was different from the Rhune vehicle. This one boasted a large comfortable chair with two deeply tanned spacemen flanking it. They were hard-eyed men wearing articulated armor everywhere except for their heads, and each gripped a carbine.

One side of the cabin held screens and controls, with three uniformed men attending the panels from swivel chairs. Another wall held a uniformed pilot guiding the raft. There were cots and chests, with shelves under the cots and a fighting thrall sitting on each bed.

The two fighting thralls guided Cade to an empty cot. The soldier deposited Velia there. A doctor in a white gown stepped near and placed a tiny device like a mechanical spider on her forehead. The device began to beep as a green light flashed on it.

“A neural inhibitor,” Tarvoke said from the comfortable chair.

Two fighting thralls placed a straight-backed wooden chair near Tarvoke. Lord Magnus took his place there. The thralls holding Cade maneuvered him before the two leaders.

“Before we continue,” Cade said, “please be so good as to have your men release me.”

“Not quite yet,” Tarvoke said.

Magnus glowered at the huge free trader. “You forget yourself, sir. This is my planet, my operation, and these are my soldiers.”

“And these are my loaned sky-rafts,” Tarvoke replied. “I had them fabricated in space. They do resemble the Rhune vessels, don’t you agree?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Magnus nodded curtly.

“Please notice that my sky-rafts will allow you to do what you’ve wished to do for centuries,” Tarvoke said, “namely, to invade the last Rhune base.”

“You’ve made your point,” Magnus grumbled.

“Just what is going on here,” Cade asked.

“Tut, tut,” Tarvoke said, looking over a food tray held before him by one of his men. The free trader touched several possibilities, finally shaking his head. “I’m sure the delicacies are tasty,” he told Magnus. “And I’ve eaten shipboard fare for far too long, but I’ll refrain a little longer until I have time to savor the food.”

Cade smelled fish on the tray, and he wondered about the small performance. If Tarvoke wished to eat, why hadn’t he? Why bother with the tray in the first place?

Suddenly, Cade understood. Tarvoke had supposedly touched the food but not eaten. The delicacies had strong odors, odors he’d smelled. This was part of the greater deception. The flickering like bad reception earlier…the two leaders on the sky-raft were not flesh and blood, but holograms, pictures of the real men. They wanted him to believe they led the raid. But, of course, they would not risk their persons on such a dangerous endeavor as leading the assault. It was absurd to think so. Not even Ultras did that—unless ordered by their chain of command, of course.

Tarvoke—or the holoimage of Tarvoke—regarded Cade. “The Rhunes are exceptionally cunning, particularly Magister Uldin. He’s thwarted Lord Magnus and me many times over. Today, however, we finally have a decisive edge.” The huge free trader touched one of his rings. “We have an even greater advantage over you. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Presently,” Cade said.

“Ha-ha. Yes, that’s funny,” Tarvoke said. “You have a sense of humor. You’re going to need it, I’m afraid. You see, Lord Magnus and I cannot afford to have an interloper grab the treasure—” Tarvoke coughed into a pudgy hand. “The Lord and I have worked long and hard together. We’ve maneuvered for years in order to get into our present position—”

“Please,” Magnus said, interrupting. “There’s no need for all this. Apply the device and give him his orders. That’s all we need from him.”

Cade’s eyes came alive, although he didn’t wrestle against his minders—the two fighting thralls gripping his arms.

Magnus must have noticed the change, for he half rose from his chair as if alarmed. The two armored spacemen flanking Tarvoke brought up their carbines, aiming at Cade. Only Tarvoke did not stir, although his fat-enfolded eyes narrowed to slits.

“Now listen, Cade,” Tarvoke said. “I’ve collected a few cyborg obedience chips throughout the years. Are you familiar with them?”

“He obviously is,” Magnus said, “as he’s an old-school Ultra. We must handle him with caution, as Ultras are incredibly dangerous.”

Tarvoke nodded as he addressed Cade. “What do you wish more: to see the Rhunes invade your continuum, or to make a small sacrifice for a human colony world that has been fighting for its life for over a thousand years?”

“You loaned Magnus the sky-rafts because you want the Descartes’ Intersplit engine,” Cade said softly.

“I’ve said so before,” Tarvoke replied. “But that’s not the point for you right now. The Eagle-Dukes—all the humans on Coad—deserve an end to the hideous war against the Rhunes. Lord Magnus will soon have his desire. I will have mine gaining the FTL engine, and you, Cade, you should know that the Rhune form of cyborg will be defeated. Isn’t that worth it to you?”

“That depends,” Cade said.

“Spoken like a poker master,” Tarvoke said. “Yes. I imagine you believe you’re quite clever, as you made it past my space defenses. But you should know that was because I had a deeper game in progress. I had to let you through because Magister Uldin is quite cunning and adroit, turning almost every one of our moves against us.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Cade asked.

“To put it bluntly, I plan to put an obedience chip in your brain. I assure you it won’t hurt. But it will ensure that you won’t double-cross me—us!—at the wrong moment.”

“When would be the right moment for me to do the double-crossing?” asked Cade.

Tarvoke nodded. “You have humor, gallows humor I believe they refer to it. I like you, Cade. I really do. What do you say, Lord Magnus?”

“Let’s get on with it,” Magnus said crossly. “I don’t know why you have to toy with him like this. We don’t have much time, either, as the base is surely near.”

“Doctor,” Tarvoke said. “Do you have another neural inhibitor?”

Cade turned his head. The doctor showed a tiny mechanical spider device much like the one on Velia’s forehead.

“Excellent,” Tarvoke said. “The device will render you inert, allowing the doctor to insert the chip with a minimum of fuss.”

Cade breathed deeply as the thralls tightened their grips on his upper arms. His heart thudded. He would never willingly allow anyone to place an obedience chip in his brain.

“Don’t try anything foolish,” Tarvoke warned.

Cade realized it was time for tactics in order to gain whatever surprise he could. It no longer mattered that the two leaders were holoimages. They would use him if he didn’t act to save himself. He took a deep breath, saying as he exhaled, “Surely, I would better serve your purposes with my wits about me. Take me into your confidences. Offer me a prize so I’ll work hard in your scheme. The obedience chip—” He shook his head. “It dulls one’s perceptions. I’ll be a useless tool with the chip in me.”

“No. That’s a lie, “Tarvoke said. “Doctor, are you ready?”

“It’s no lie,” Cade said, as the doctor approached. “Besides, I feel I should warn you that I will undermine the chip. I know how to do that, for I’ve worn one before.”

Lord Magnus glanced sharply at Tarvoke. The fat free trader thoughtfully stroked his double chin, seeming to ignore the other. At last, Tarvoke faced Magnus.

“I believe him,” Magnus said.

“He’s still lying,” Tarvoke said. “Yes, I believe he had a chip before. But he’s obviously lying about his ability to resist it.”

“Then how did he free himself from its control?” Magnus asked.

“Hmm, yes, an interesting question.” Tarvoke studied Cade. “Do you have an answer?”

“I do,” Cade said. “I loathe cyborgs, and anyone siding with cyborgs or using cyborg technology against humans. That loathing bubbles past the chip’s control.”

“Technically,” Tarvoke said, “you’re not fully human. You’re an Ultra.”

“I’m more human than you,” Cade said.

“Because you think you’re better than I am?”

“Because I don’t screw with people the way you do. I don’t use them as pawns.”

“Oh, that,” Tarvoke said with a wave of a hand. “For all your gifts, you’re an idealist, which means a fool. Lord Magnus, I suggest we get on with it. We should be fast approaching the base. It would be best if—”

“Sir!” said one of the men manning the screens. “I’ve detected enemy sky-rafts. They’ve been using camouflage technology, which we’ve just countered. I’m counting…five of them, sir. They’re aligned for battle.”

“Battle,” Lord Magnus said, as if delighted. “They’re in for a rude surprise. Target them and fire at once.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said.

Cade had been secretly gathering his resolve even as he’d forced himself to relax. The thralls’ fierce grips had loosened back to the original tight hold. One of the thralls even glanced back at the screens. Realizing this was the best he was going to get with them and that this was his tactical moment, Cade shouted violently, using an ancient martial arts technique that focused and exerted his chi.

As Cade shouted, he thrust his torso and arms forward at speed. The two thralls retightened their grips as they stumbled forward. Cade yanked his arms and body back as he twisted, ripping free from one of the thralls. He hit the other in the face with his free fist once, twice, three times before the second thrall released him. Then Cade dropped to the floor.

The slower reflexes of the spacemen guards finally produced their reaction. They both fired their carbines, laser lines spearing straight at where Cade no longer stood.

From the floor, Cade ripped out his Lupus 19 Energy Gun, burning each spaceman’s face and then burning Tarvoke in his comfy chair. The holoimage wavered as the beam speared through it. Then, Tarvoke appeared as before, totally unhurt, even though the comfortable chair he lay on burned.

Magnus yelled for his fighting thralls to attack and subdue the Ultra. Before any of them could obey, the entire cabin and raft shook dreadfully. An enemy shell shattered an entire wall, shrapnel killing or maiming half the people within.

Amid the mayhem, Cade slithered across the floor, reaching the door—

Another shell smashed through the cabin, obliterating walls and killing most of the survivors of the first strike. Splinters struck Cade’s back, causing him to twist in agony. Even so, he surged up, dashing out of the destroyed cabin. A glance back over his shoulder confirmed why all this was happening:

Five Rhune sky-rafts hovered in a line in the distance, their cannons barking yet again as flashes blazed from the muzzles.

Without hesitation, Cade sprinted and hurled himself across the widening gap. He sailed through the air as explosions on the sky-raft behind him caught him in the blast, hurling him faster and farther. He landed on the original raft and rolled until he smashed against the outer cabin. He lay there on his stomach groaning and twisting in agony with his back afire with the splinters.

He raised his head, looking around. The last of Tarvoke’s large rafts lifted for the heavens. Cannons there fired and destroyed one of the distant Rhune rafts. Meanwhile, pieces, people and body parts rained upon the ocean from the two destroyed vessels near Cade.

He tried to rise and slumped back down instead.

The four surviving Rhune rafts must have tracked the rising Tarvoke vessel. They fired, missed, fired, hit while another of their number disintegrated under the better cannon-fire of Tarvoke’s people. That didn’t last. The remaining large raft blew apart under the hail of Rhune cannon fire. Thralls and others leaped overboard, plummeting for the ocean below.

Cade tried to understand what had just happened. Did this mean Velia De Lore was dead? Had Tarvoke and Magnus expected such an attack to occur? That seemed possible, as the two leaders had been holoimages. Why were they so confident?

Cade began crawling for the edge of his sky-raft. It continued flying toward the surviving Rhune vessels. Was it a loss of blood, shock or something else on his part that caused his mind to waver? Cade didn’t know, because he never made it to the edge of his raft as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was unable to toss himself overboard before the Rhunes reached him.

Cade became halfway alert again as a skeletal Rhune in a black robe near him said, “This one. He’s still alive, and I think it’s the Ultra. That means we may survive our blunder.”

Cade would have liked to know more, but the Rhune pulled out a wand and zapped him so he blanked out.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dr. Halifax lay on a cot, staring up at a ceiling. His mind was and had been awhirl for hours. The Rhunes—

The hatch to the cell opened. Halifax sat up sharply, swiveling around so his feet touched the floor.

“Come with me,” Uldin whispered.

Halifax grabbed his shoes, slipping them on and scrambling off the cot, trotting out of the cell into the corridor after Magister Uldin.

“There have been several new developments,” Uldin said softly. “As a potential Rhune, I thought you should see some of this for yourself.”

“I appreciate that,” Halifax said.

Uldin glanced down at him. “There are many threads in play today. As mental exercise, I’m unraveling a few of the more notorious. For instance, I’m beginning to believe that Graven Tarvoke is even cleverer than I thought. That is disconcerting. I believed, through his duplicate, that I’d plumbed the depths of his intelligence. As it turns out, I was wrong.”

“Uh…why tell me, sir?”

“Please, Dr. Halifax, don’t feign such subservience, as it suggests you think I’m an easily duped fool. I know at heart that you’re a deceiver and schemer. That is why I believe you’ll make a good lower-level Rhune. To return to my original point, Captain Tarvoke has surely deceived us. I believed him to be on a Cyprian-fabricated sky-raft. Yet, after combing the ocean for survivors, my people failed to uncover his or Lord Magnus’s corpses. That is too odd for coincidence. Thus, I am reviving Velia De Lore.”

“Who?” Halifax asked.

“A mechanically turned enemy agent,” Uldin whispered. “You saw her with the Ultra on the screen.”

Oh, Cade’s new babe. Wait, what did Uldin say? A turned enemy agent?

“I practiced crude implantation upon her cousin in order to render her transformation less obvious. The humans on Coad never caught on. Your Marcus Cade did, however.”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you keep your mouth shut, you may learn enough to understand.”

Fooled you, asshole. I know exactly what you’re saying. And you can bet I’m never becoming an emotionless freak like you Rhunes. I just have to figure out how, and I’d better do it quick.

The doctor trotted beside Uldin as they traveled through a maze of corridors until Halifax began puffing from the exertion. Finally, Uldin halted, glancing down at him. Was there a sense of superiority in the look? Halifax kept his sweaty features carefully neutral. Uldin raised his thin right-hand palm-forward, and the door before them slid open. He stepped in. Halifax followed on his heels into a spacious white chamber, struck by harsh medical smells.

There were several large pools or vats staggered throughout the chamber. Two thralls stood in one of the vats, submerging and lifting another person. Uldin approached the vat, reaching the edge and observing the progress.

Halifax did a double-take as he reached the same edge. The thralls wore chrome collars, breechclouts and nothing else. Unlike Skar 192, they had no hair, just smooth shiny skin and pates. Had they lost their hair working in the vats?

They lowered a naked beauty in and out of a liquid blue solution. Her long dark hair draped upon her like seaweed, while her proportions caused the doctor’s eyes to shine with appreciation. This was Cade’s babe all right. Why did the soldier get all the luck?

A different black-robed Rhune stood across the vat. He had a red mark on his bald forehead and spaces between his teeth.

“Report, Charaton,” Uldin told him.

“She sustained grave injuries,” Charaton whispered. “She was unbreathing when picked up and might have sustained brain damage that will result in her retardation.”

“Repair that,” Uldin said.

“It might prove difficult, Magister.”

Uldin studied the half-submerged woman.

So did Halifax. Did the Rhunes truly not feel anything regarding her loveliness? On no account did he wish to forego the joy of beautiful women like her. What would be the point of living then?

Uldin regarded Charaton. “Did her implants record all the occurrences?”

“I will discover that during the next phase.”

“Proceed immediately,” Uldin said.

Charaton made a gesture. The chrome collars on the thralls brightened. The two ogre-like men stiffened and regarded the Rhune. He gave them soft orders. As their collars returned to normal, the thralls lifted the woman, waded to the edge of the vat, climbing out and carrying her to a gurney. They deposited her onto it, lifted the gurney and followed the other Rhune as he led the way.

“Come,” Uldin said.

Halifax trotted dutifully into other corridors and finally another chamber. There, the thralls deposited the dripping woman onto a sterile pad, gently placing her arms beside her body. The thralls backed away until they stood against a wall.

Charaton moved a mechanical arm connected to the ceiling. On the other end of the arm was a large disc. He maneuvered the disc against the woman’s forehead. With a tap of his left foot, he caused a control panel to rise from the floor. Charaton began to manipulate the panel, which caused the disc to glow.

The naked woman moaned softly.

Halifax stood transfixed at the rise and fall of her wonderful breasts. They were perfect.

Uldin glanced at him. “Really, Doctor, are you that base?”

“Uh, what’s that?” asked Halifax, deciding this was for the best because it would cause Mr. Big Shot to think even less of him.

Uldin spoke to the thralls.

One of them dashed out of the room, returning almost immediately with a thin blanket. Uldin pointed at the woman. The thrall hurried near, draping the blanket over her nakedness, leaving her head exposed.

“As a Rhune, you will gain freedom from your animal lusts,” Uldin told Halifax. “You will soar mentally and receive joy from pure thought.”

Halifax nodded as he studied the woman’s face. “She’s Velia?”

“Velia De Lore,” Uldin said.

“She was with Cade?”

“Do I hear jealousy in your voice?”

“Certainly not,” Halifax said. “I’m simply gathering facts.”

Uldin blinked, with his face unreadable. Afterward, he asked the other Rhune, “Well?”

“There appears to have been some damage to her secondary cranial unit.”

“Can you compensate?”

Charaton manipulated his panel. “I’m beginning to get a reading. If you’ll examine the third screen, sir…”

Uldin turned to the left and made a motion with his hand. A holo-screen appeared in the air before him.

Halifax watched open-mouthed as he observed on the holo-screen what she’d seen regarding Cade on the sky-raft. Scenes flashed past as Uldin made scrolling motions with his fingers. Halifax missed much but caught the interplay as Velia bashed Cade on the back of the head. It ended with Cade choking her into unconsciousness. The soldier never did get it right with women.

At that point, the scenes flickered off.

“I’m sorry, Magister,” Charaton whispered. “There’s sensory blockage. It must have to do with the damage to the secondary cranial unit.”

“Give me something,” Uldin said.

Charaton manipulated the panel faster than before. Soon, they had audio but no visual.

Halifax cocked his head, listening carefully as Cade and others spoke at an unnaturally rapid pace so he could only understand part of the dialogue.

Uldin glanced at him. “It should be obvious now that we can ingest data far faster than humans. I have actually slowed the proceedings so you have a glimmer of understanding of what we’ve been doing.”

Your crap doesn’t stink either, I bet. Halifax nodded gravely. “Is she a cyborg drudge?”

“Be more precise,” Uldin said.

“You remote controlled her.”

“Only in part,” Uldin said. “Did you not see her dropping the tool onto the floor in the end?”

“I did, I did. Did a Rhune manually control her at that point?”

“Ah, Doctor, good, good, that is an astute question. Of course that was the case. Which means, naturally, that I already knew most of this. I find you a strange mixture. One minute you leer like a pervert. The next, you show higher intelligence. You shall greatly benefit from having your emotions removed.”

“Uh, about that—”

Uldin raised a hand. “You wish for death instead?”

“No, no, I still want to be a Rhune, of course. I was just thinking—”

“Excellent. Ah, one moment, Doctor.” Uldin inclined his head as if listening to someone unseen. “No,” he said. Then he listened longer. “I’m on my way. Prepare him.” Uldin regarded Halifax. “You’ll remain here while I attend to a small matter. Try not to get in the way.”

“But—” Halifax said. He stopped speaking, as Uldin swiftly departed, leaving the chamber through a different hatch. The door slid shut behind him.

Halifax scratched a cheek as he glanced back at the thralls. They stood at attention against the wall, appearing to stare nowhere. Halifax could swear he felt them secretly observing him. The doctor shrugged, focusing on Charaton manipulating a panel. An impulse moved Halifax’s feet as he stepped toward the Rhune and his panel. It was the doctor’s propensity to exact an advantage whenever he could. This seemed like the moment to attempt something, anything that could help him escape his present predicament.

“I’m to become a Rhune,” Halifax told the other.

The skeletal Charaton did not appear to hear, as he was absorbed with his task.

Halifax slid a little closer and soon peered at the panel. It was like a keyboard, just more complex. The spider-thin fingers played over the panel at speed.

“Did she love Cade?” Halifax asked.

Charaton continued working.

Halifax rubbed his chin, glancing sidelong at the other. “I’m to become a Rhune.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Why didn’t you respond?”

“Do not query me as if I’m your underling, as I’m superior to you.”

“I know that,” Halifax said. “I’m only trying to understand. I’m not sure that I should become a Rhune.”

Charaton paused in his manipulations to gaze at Halifax. “That is preposterous. The Magister has offered you the gift of a lifetime. A wise human would seize it.”

“I realize that, but it’s the removal of my emotions that gives me pause. Is that even possible?”

“Surgically easy,” Charaton said. “Your emotions reside in distinct areas of your brain. A few slices of a scalpel, and you shall be free of them forever.”

Halifax tried to suppress a shiver of dread.

“You only fear because you rely too heavily upon your emotions,” Charaton whispered in his dry voice. “They lead you into folly and buffoonery.”

Halifax indicated the woman. “They also allow me to appreciate beauty.”

“She is a worm, a tool in Rhune service. I am attempting to reengage her intellect and realign her brain units.”

“What kind of units?”

“Sensory input, mental override, heightened emotional stimulation—”

“What does that mean?” asked Halifax.

Charaton paused as he studied the doctor. “I’m busy. Cease interrupting my concentration, or I shall have you removed.”

“Uldin ordered me to remain here.”

“…Yes,” Charaton said shortly. “He also said not to get in the way. Silence, and perhaps you can learn something useful.” He continued to manipulate the panel.

Halifax fell silent as he watched the proceedings. He thought about what he’d seen on the holo-screen. The woman had clubbed Cade from behind, weeping at the end and releasing the heavy tool. The soldier had choked her until she was unconscious, but he’d done so gently. Halifax bit his lower lip. From what he understood, the woman had dropped into the ocean and nearly drowned. There had been an air battle of some kind. Sweat slicked the doctor’s armpits. Uldin offered to turn him into a Rhune, removing his emotions and possibly inserting parts into him. Why would Uldin make such an offer? The only logical reason was that Uldin needed more Rhunes. Why would that be the case? Oh! Because too many Rhunes had perished from the killing virus. Had the virus slain almost all of them here?

The woman moaned and twisted on the pad as her face jerked.

“No,” Charaton whispered, tapping faster. “This is—” He straightened. “I need a recalibrater. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right back.” The Rhune turned, striding fast, exiting through a hatch.

Halifax stared at the closed hatch as he dragged a hand across his mouth. The woman moaned again. The doctor did not want to become a Rhune, but he didn’t want to die either. He glanced at the thralls.

They peered directly at him this time, watching.

Halifax looked away, and he found himself moving beside the woman. He didn’t dare look at the thralls again. Would they report him? He’d have to hope they hated the Rhunes more than they wished to gain slave credits by snitching on him.

“Can you hear me?” Halifax whispered to the woman.

She stopped moaning and seemed to listen, although her eyes remained shut.

“I’m a friend of Marcus Cade.”

Her mouth twisted as if she tried to speak but could not.

“Do you know Cade?” Halifax asked.

She moaned again.

“Cade loves you,” Halifax said in inspiration. “He deeply loves you.”

“No…” she said. “Wife. He loves his wife.”

Halifax’s eyebrows shot up. How had the woman learned that? The possibilities— “You must help Cade,” he whispered. “He desperately needs your help.”

Her lips quit twisting. It seemed she listened again.

“Do whatever you can to help Cade,” Halifax said. “He’ll love you for that and forget about his wife.”

The hatch slid up and the Rhune Charaton stopped short. “What are you doing? Get away from her.”

Halifax backed away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She was choking. I-I helped her breathe.”

Charaton glanced at the thralls. They did not respond. The Rhune raised a threatening hand. One of the thralls nodded as if reluctantly.

The thrall is deceiving Charaton, Halifax realized with an inner shock. He waited for the threat in order to be more convincing. That was interesting.

Charaton walked to the woman. “She’s breathing now. Therefore, step back before I lodge a protest against you to Uldin.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Halifax said, bowing while backing away. “I was only trying to help.”

“Silence,” Charaton said. He held two thin prongs and lightly tapped her forehead with them. He glanced at the panel afterward. He tapped her forehead again, put down the prongs and began manipulating the panel.

Halifax glanced at the two thralls. They stared elsewhere. They were slaves, but they clearly had their own agenda. Somehow, he had to use that, as the doctor had a sick feeling that time was running out for him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Cade revived by slow degrees and felt a deep sense of regret, and that he’d been totally defeated. The defeat grated against his spirit, against the core of his being. He was a soldier. A soldier fought on no matter what the odds. He’d been trapped behind enemy lines before with only a handful of comrades, cut off from friendly communications. He’d fought his way free, although he’d lost four-fifths of his command back then.

His eyelids fluttered and then snapped open. Without moving, he stared at a—

Claustrophobia struck. He was inside a narrow tube with pulsating sensations striking his body from all sides. He raised his head and bumped his forehead against the upper enclosure. He lowered his head, closed his eyes and concentrated so he didn’t howl and thrash like a madman.

He was a soldier. A soldier did not lose his composure because the situation had become bleak. He waited for an opportunity to strike back. If that opportunity never came, then he died fighting like a berserker, taking as many of the enemy down with him as he could. To that end, Cade breathed deeply. He tasted his confinement, but he didn’t let that demoralize him. Instead, he exhaled and inhaled even deeper, filling his lungs and emptying them. He repeated the process until he sensed his panic fading away.

Now, he—oh, his back did not throb or even smart. Was that due to numbing agents?

There was a click, and the slate he lay on began to move. He opened his eyes, watching the white tube slide past. He listened intently for skin peelers, wondering if he’d entered the hated cyborg convertor that changed a human into a machine man.

The slate slid into the open, into a white sterile room. He saw a window and a bald, black-robed skull-like Rhune staring back at him.

That’s right, these half-cyborgs with godlike powers, floating in the air and pumping fireballs from their fists. He wanted to rip the thing’s guts out. One had zapped him on the sky-raft with a wand, doing it indifferently, callously.

Cade looked away lest the creature understand his hatred and take precautions. He sat up. He was naked. Okay. He began assessing his body for battle damage. Everything worked and was whole that he could see. He twisted his head to peer at his back as well as he could. Then he strained to feel back there with his hands. He was supple, but too muscular to reach every area of his back as some could. As far as he could tell, his back was healed.

The Rhunes must have done that. Damn. That meant—a feeling of sick helpless crawled up his spine. Had they inserted an obedience chip into his mind while he’d been under? Breathing became harder and his arms shook. Without looking at the watching Rhune, he began to massage his scalp with weak fingers, searching for a telltale scar. He felt the old one…felt more…but he didn’t feel a new scar or a line to indicate an insertion. Was he still his own man then? Could they have wasted the opportunity?

You bastards just made a terrible mistake.

A ferocious desire to fight to the death and get it over with began welling up inside him. If he could twist just one scrawny neck before he died—

“Stand,” said the Rhune through a wall speaker in an emotionless voice.

It took a half-second. He debated giving the thing the bird finger. No. Tactics, man, practice tactics all the way. Cade slid off the slate, standing as his gut seethed.

“Exit through the door,” the Rhune said.

Cade saw the door…and kept from turning and looking at the thing. He padded across the cold floor, desperately wanting a weapon. The door slid open before him, making him start. You’re too keyed up. Try to relax—or at least appear relaxed. He nodded and walked through the open hatch into a similar chamber. There was gray spaceman garb on a stand. He went to the clothes. There were his own, fully repaired. He put them on, noting the lack of a boot knife or energy gun.

Once he was dressed, another door opened.

They’re watching me. I bet they have machines recording my breathing rate, heart rate and other stuff.

He went to the new door and peered into a long corridor. He waited for instructions. None was forthcoming. Muttering under his breath, he entered the corridor, walking for a time until he came to a side door. He tried it. Locked. He kept going, passing more doors and trying each, but they were all locked. Finally, one handle turned.

He opened the door and entered a large library chamber. Books and scrolls lined three walls from floor to ceiling. A heavy wooden table was in the center of the room. On the table was a shallow bowl of water with yellow rose petals floating in it. A chair was there with the back to the table.

Cade went to the chair and sat down. Nervous tension had made him tired.

What do they want with me? Why have they healed me anyway? I hate these bastards. I just want to leave and—

A different door began opening. Cade grew tense. A tall gaunt Rhune walked into the room. This one lacked any adornment on the front of his robe. The thing stared at him with inky eyes. It seemed to mock him with that still, narrow face. Maybe he should take a stab at screwing with it.

“You must be Magister Uldin?” Cade said, while standing.

The Rhune raised an eyebrow before dipping his long head. “How do you know my name?” the question asked in an emotionless voice.

Cade debated lying, but that wasn’t his way. When all else failed, he liked straight shooting. “Graven Tarvoke spoke about you.”

“I see. Logically then, Tarvoke was on the sky-rafts we destroyed.”

Cade thought about the flickering holoimages, about his predicament. He could tell the truth but still lie. “Yes,” he said.

Uldin continued to stare at him.

I can do this all day—the soldier stared right back. Suddenly, he felt the force of the other’s personality, a pressure against his face. He’s the big shot, the chief. If I kill him, I kill their leader.

“You’re impertinent,” Uldin whispered. “If I desired, I could blast you apart with a gesture.”

Talk is cheap, cyborg. All I have to do is get near you.

“Do you feel so superior to me then?” Uldin asked.

“What?” Cade asked.

“What causes you to stare at me as you do?”

“You’re a cyborg,” Cade said thickly, his hatred bubbling to the fore.

“And that means what to you?”

Cade struggled to contain his rage. He knew cyborgs. The old ones were so deadly, so quick and metallically strong. He’d seen them rip apart Ultras with their bare hands. Cade hated his fear of the thing. But…a Rhune was a cyber tech, and they were different from cyborgs. He needed to think, to control his rage so he could act wisely, effectively. The thing wanted him to talk, so he should talk.

“I-I realize that you mean to use me,” Cade said, feeling dizzy talking to it like this. “How you’ll try to use me, I don’t know, but that’s not critical. Since you’re going to use me…how can crawling or acting frightened help my cause? It can’t. So I stare at you however I want.”

“You’re different from the fighting thralls,” Uldin said in his metallic whisper. “They’re all muscle and might. You appear to exhibit a little intelligence as well.”

Cade couldn’t help sneering.

“Are you deliberating trying to anger me?”

The words clicked a switch in Cade’s mind. What was he doing? Acting like an angry dog, showing how terrified he really was. He needed some calm here, some perspective.

“Could I?” he asked.

“You could certainly try—no, that wasn’t your question, was it? Could you successfully anger me? No, as Rhunes do not feel emotions the way humans do. We expunged our emotions, devoting ourselves to logic and other purely mental stimulations. We are superior to humans and even Ultras.”

It was weird listening to it as he might listen to Halifax speak. At first, the words had been gibberish. Now, they were beginning to make sense. The thing was superior to him, huh?

“If you’re superior, why do Rhunes only have a single base on Coad?”

Uldin’s inky eyes swirled with something sinister until he gave the barest of nods. “A logical question, I commend you. The answer is that we’ve experimented upon ourselves in order to achieve greatness. It was a harsh process. But nothing worth having is easily acquired.”

“There was a plague, I hear.”

“Velia must have told you that. She’s dead, by the way. Does her passing distress you?”

Cade put a hand on the table to steady himself. Was that true? Was the thing lying to him? If she was dead…maybe he should have treated her better. Would that have been so hard?

“I suppose you believe that you’re being stoic,” Uldin said. “It’s an illusion, I assure you. Clearly, you like to grandstand, but you’ve learned some style in doing so. You must consider yourself a hero.”

What if I do? No! Don’t let him toy with you like that. He’s playing you. You have to play back, get his goat.

“Uh, what kind of plague was it?” Cade asked.

Uldin waited a half-beat before saying, “The worst kind, self-inflicted. You see, we improved upon the ancient design. By that, I mean grafting various utilities into ourselves. The method can be excruciating, so much so that some die during the surgeries. I sought to improve the Rhune genus and succeeded. Unfortunately, that success bred a virus. The virus raced through our bases, killing tens of thousands until genocide threatened extinction. During the time, we worked to develop a cure.”

Uldin shook his head. “We never did. I believe because…well, never mind about that. In the end, we’re leaving the virus behind by leaving Coad, the planet that almost became our graveyard. This virus, you might be interested to know, was the primary reason the Eagle-Dukes on Coad and Tarvoke’s pathetic space fleet have been able to thrive. We were too busy battling the virus to bother with them. Did they slay us in our tens of thousands? No, we succumbed to our own mistake as we sought and achieved a new greatness. Yet, like the ancient Thinker once said, ‘That which does not kill us makes us stronger.’ For us, that has literally proven true.”

Get his goat. Bust his damn smugness. We hurt ourselves, not others. Yeah, right, I bet. “I’m curious about something else,” Cade said.

“I know. The reason we healed you and why you’re still free and alive?”

“No. I was thinking about the cyborg mobile base orbiting Sarus. It chased you, I’m told.”

“You were told wrong.”

“Uh…chased your ancestors,” Cade amended. “The mobile base attempted to destroy the original Rhune vessels. My question is why.”

Uldin stared at him.

I think I’m doing it. Cade allowed a hard grin to slide onto his face.

“Is that your specialty?” Uldin mused. “You constantly seek for weakness, a soft spot. If you lack physical weapons, you use words. Your designers knew their business when they made your type.”

“You’re right, as the cyborgs lost the war.”

“Did they lose? Are we not the ultimate cyborg refinement? The original models sought to use physical means to dominate. We use both the physical and mental.”

“So…uh, why did the regular cyborgs attempt to eliminate the cyber techs, the Rhunes?”

“Jealously would be one reason. Another was a sense for survival. Why would Neanderthals hate Homo sapiens? The reason should be obvious, as the Homo sapiens caused the extinction of the Neanderthals.”

“Rhunes are a new cyborg genus that would have eliminated the old?” Cade asked.

“Can you doubt it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Rhunes are individual champions, praying mantises as opposed to ants. The cyborgs attempted mass assaults but failed for reasons I cannot intellectually fathom.”

“I can,” Cade said.

“Oh?”

“We were better.”

A wintery smile touched Uldin’s lips. “In the end, the reason doesn’t matter. We’re here, and you’re going to help us return to our rightful space-time continuum.”

Here it comes. Cade balled his hands into fists, readying himself. “How will I help?” he asked hoarsely.

“Ah,” Uldin said, holding up an admonitory finger. “That is a secret for now. But I will tell you that we’re doing this the Rhune way. If you can decipher that—”

The tension became too much, and Cade exploded into action, hurling himself at Uldin. Before he reached halfway across the room, a force caught and propelled him back so he grunted as he hit the wall and slid down onto his butt. Cade shook his head, looking up, wondering what to do now.

Uldin stared at him, perhaps with a glimmer of evil humor in his eyes.

Right. I’ve been acting like an idiot, a new ensign fresh from military training. Let’s start over, using guile to guide me.

“How did you do that?” Cade asked, while standing.

“Through applied intellect,” Uldin said as he folded his hands within the sleeves of his robe. “We’re done here.” He turned to go and then seemed to think better of it. He faced Cade again. “I do have one other question before I go. You spoke to Tarvoke, yes?”

Cade nodded.

“Why did Tarvoke come down to Coad?”

Despite the soldier’s resolve to remain calm, his heart rate quickened. “Tarvoke—never told me.”

“Any guesses?” Uldin asked. “It was a great risk for the free trader to lead the sky-raft assault against our base.”

“If you’re asking why he risked it, I might have a reason.”

“This should prove interesting.”

“Tarvoke struck me as an essentially dishonest man,” Cade said. “Being so, he distrusted his allies and wanted to be at the captured base in person. With the Rhunes dead, who would get your high-tech items? Logically, the man on the spot could grab what he wanted, collecting more than his fair share.”

“You mean he wanted to cheat Lord Magnus?”

“Magnus must have known this and joined the assault to stop Tarvoke from implementing his theft.”

Uldin stood perfectly still before he said, “If you’re correct, they would have to believe they could find the base and defeat us.”

“That was my understanding,” Cade said. “They were hoping to gain surprise by following the automated Rhune craft back to base.”

“I can hardly fathom that as their motive,” Uldin said. “Tarvoke knows more about Rhune capabilities than anyone else in the star system. Lord Magnus should also have known better. If I were to hazard a guess…” The Magister’s eyebrows rose. “No…” he whispered. “I cannot believe I’ve overlooked the obvious. Neither man was altruistic. I doubt either of them was so puffed up with hubris to lead a direct assault.” Uldin’s black eyes seemed to glow. “Tarvoke must have employed deceit within deceit. We never found his or Lord Magnus’s bodies, although we found many others in the sea. Velia’s form allowed us to hear what transpired in the control cabin. Tarvoke must have known that would happen. But there’s something more.” Uldin tilted his head, his eyes hooded, as if he spent all his energy thinking.

“My ancient enemy…” Uldin whispered. “Do I detect your will in this? If so, that means—” The Magister looked up. “Wait here while I check on a matter.” So saying, Uldin strode for an exit, almost seeming to hurry.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Cade counted to thirty before trying the door Uldin had used to leave. It was locked. He went to the other doors, trying them too. Each one was locked.

I’m a rat in a trap. He went to the table, glaring at the petals floating in the bowl of water. You have to think, to make a plan.

He touched one of the wet petals and then took it between thumb and forefinger, mashing it into paste, rubbing the substance off against a pant leg.

Breathe. Get your balance.

He nodded. He was late to this game, the various sides. Each chess master wanted to move him like a pawn against the others. Tarvoke. Uldin. Magnus.

Who’s this ancient enemy? That must be the fourth player I’ve sensed.

Cade turned abruptly, stepping to one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves. He glanced at book spines, the titles, but they were written in a foreign language, proving useless in helping him understand.

He returned to the table and put both hands on it, closing his eyes. The ancient enemy. Who had trapped and destroyed the cyborg mobile base orbiting the gas giant Sarus? Were they the same beings that had created the pocket universe? Cade breathed deeply. I think I’m onto something. Was it rational to believe that the Descartes would simply arrive at a place where others desperately needed its Intersplit engine? Was that mere coincidence? Cade shook his head. But if it wasn’t a coincidence…then who had maneuvered them and how had they done it?

Cade opened his eyes. There was another thing. How had the Eagle-Dukes with their lesser technology maintained their independence against the Rhunes all this time? Had the virus allowed them to do it, or was it something else?

He cocked his head. There was an answer. He could feel it.

“How can I feel it?” he whispered.

He looked around. No one looked back. Then why does it feel as if someone is staring at me? He’d felt snipers targeting him before. There was something about staring at someone that made their hackles rise. Was that telepathy, empathy, a different sixth sense?

Cade made a fist. He wasn’t going to be anyone’s pawn. He’d survived The War. Now, he was going to rescue his wife and any brothers-at-arms that had survived into this future time. That was his goal. That was it.

His neck grew itchy, so he rubbed it. He could almost feel someone laughing at him. It was spooky—

There was a click and a door opened behind Cade. He whirled around and stopped short. A fighting thrall regarded him. This one wore a chrome collar, a breechclout and nothing else, not even slippers. He had the long dangling muscled arms of his kind and ugly bruises on his hairy body.

“I’m Skar 192,” the thrall said in a gruff voice. “Just so you know, I’ve spoken to Dr. Halifax.”

Cade thought about that and sneered. Does Uldin think I’m going to fall for such an obvious ploy? Does he think I’m an idiot?

“You do know Dr. Halifax, don’t you?” Skar asked.

“I do,” Cade said. “So you saw him, so what?”

Skar took a deep breath and there was malice in his eyes, which seemed odd. “It’s time. That’s my gut instinct, anyway. I’ve stashed weapons if you want one, and there are a few others like me willing to fight to the death in the great cause.”

Give me a break. Really? “How is it that you can walk about freely in the Rhune base?” Cade asked. “The door was locked. They’re all locked.”

Skar touched his chest. “I’m a soldier. I take risks when I think it’s right. I’ve already been punished today. The next punishment will mean my death—so why shouldn’t I risk all now that I’ve decided it’s time?”

“Did you hear me about the locked doors?”

Skar pulled a flat device from the folds of his breechclout. “This unlocks everything.”

“And you just happen to have it, eh?”

Skar scowled, finally shaking his brutish head. “You can’t know I’m for real. That’s the rub, don’t you see? Uldin wants to steal your initiative, your desire to try. He’s attempted the same with me, but I’m a soldier, and I plan to die like one, fighting to the bitter end.”

This guy’s good. Even though he’s an obvious shill, I almost believe him.

“Aren’t you a soldier, too?” Skar asked.

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“My gut instincts tell me you’re a test, a ruse by Uldin.”

“I don’t understand you,” Skar said, exasperated. “What do you have to lose? If you have weapons, you might free Halifax from the Rhunes. What does it hurt to make the attempt?”

“I don’t know. You’re obviously trying to manipulate me. I haven’t figured out why.”

There was another click and a new door behind the soldier opened. He whirled around as a tall gaunt Rhune stepped within and stopped as if surprised.

“Where’s Uldin?” the Rhune said. “I’ve brought the items as per his request. Why are there two of you here when there should only be one. Uldin was interviewing the Ultra. You,” the Rhune pointed at the thrall. “What is your name and why are you here?”

“Skar 192,” the ogre-man said, shuffling deeper into the room and thus toward the Rhune.

“You failed to state why you’re here and— stop at once,” the Rhune said. “Do not approach any closer.”

Skar stopped and bowed his head submissively.

“You still fail to tell me why you’re here,” the Rhune said. “This is unwarranted. If I recall correctly, the Magister confined you to barracks—yes. Look at you. You’ve received punishment shocks today. How can you even walk?”

Skar intertwined his fingers and hunched his shoulders, putting a whine into his voice. “I-I came at once at the master’s orders.”

“I detect falsehood, which indicates that you’re trying to deceive me.” The Rhune raised a skeletal hand, moving his fingers.

The chrome collar brightened. Cade shaded his eyes from the intense glare.

Skar grunted, grunted again—and then he moaned, a sound torn from him. He clutched at the collar and snatched his hands away as if the collar had become oven-hot. His neck turned red as foul roasting odors floated from him. His eyes bulged, and then he bellowed. Like some giant ape, he raced yelling at the Rhune.

“None of that,” the Rhune said, widening his fingers.

Skar bounced off an invisible field, falling onto his back and twisting on the floor, howling in agony.

The Rhune’s really hurting him. But why? Was Skar telling the truth? Have the Rhunes stolen my initiative?

Cade would have shouted for the Rhune to stop, but he knew that would make no difference. Screw this! He picked up the bowl of water and pitched it at the arrogant creature. Perhaps he got lucky, catching the Rhune by surprise as the bowl hit him on the side of the head. This is it. This is my chance. Cade grabbed the wooden chair and charged. The Rhune shook his head, turned toward him—Cade swung the chair, hitting the thing’s head. There was a crunch, the breaking of neck bones. Cade released the chair and slammed a fist into the Rhune’s gut, doubling the robed man over. The soldier thrust up a knee, connecting with the lowered chin. There was another snap, a brittle sound, and the Rhune rocketed up and then sprawled backward onto the floor. Kill him before he can summon his powers. Cade stomped on the throat, crushing the windpipe. Then, he dropped to the floor, grabbed the head and twisted as hard as he could, hearing bones snapping.

The Rhune surged spasmodically, flopping, and then lay still.

Cade turned to the thrall.

Skar lay on the floor, choking, with foul smoke rising from his roasting neck.

Cade scrambled beside the dead Rhune’s torso, searching the robe—oh, hello sweetness. He drew the Lupus 19 Energy Gun and boot knife from a pocket. Right, the Rhune said he’d been bringing items per the Magister’s request. Cade jumped up and ran to Skar. He’s dead unless—Cade aimed, fired and then fired at the other side. With an oath, Cade tore off the front piece, singeing his fingertips doing so. He rolled Skar over, leaving the bottom collar piece on the floor.

The throat was red-roasted, with tiny bubbles rising from the skin.

How’s he still alive? It’s a miracle.

Sweat bathed the stricken Skar, and incredibly, the ogre-man attempted to rise.

Cade bent to assist him, marveling at the man’s stamina and will. Once upright and with a shaking hand, Skar pointed and Cade helped him to an open hatch. Together, they shuffled down a hall.

“What’s the plan?” Cade asked.

Skar opened his mouth but nothing came out. He gave Cade such an imploring look—

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Cade said, feeling helpless.

Skar kept moving forward, losing strength, slowing down and shivering. His sweat-slicked skin was turning cold. He slipped several times, his head drooping as he panted and then gurgled.

Why don’t you just die?

Skar wheezed as he inhaled, standing straighter, pushing himself.

What a man. What a fighter! What’s driving him like this?

Skar stared into the distance or maybe into a different realm that only the dying and dead could see. Finally, Skar attempted to turn toward a side door as if he knew where he wanted to go.

Cade tucked the blaster under his waistband, testing the handle. It turned. He began to open the door. Skar’s shaking hand touched his wrist.

“What?” Cade asked.

Skar shook his head and pointed at him.

“You want me to check it out first?” Cade asked.

Skar tapped him, shivering afterward.

Cade set him against the wall, pulled out the blaster and opened the door, peeking in. There were vats, pools of liquid scattered around. Otherwise, the place was empty.

“I hope this is where you want to go,” Cade said.

The thrall stared blankly.

“Not yet, Skar 192,” Cade said, grunting as he hoisted the cold thrall onto his feet. He helped him into the chemically fumed chamber. The stinks must have done something, because Skar raised his head. With a shaking arm, he pointed at the green-colored vat.

Cade brought him there, helping him slide into the liquid pool. Skar released his hold, took a wheezing breath and sank underwater. Cade almost dove in to grab him. Then he saw Skar drink the green solution. Was the thrall drowning himself? No! Skar shot up with a gasp and sank once more, drinking underwater a second time and shooting up to gulp more air.

It shouldn’t have helped, but the skin around his throat no longer seemed as burned and awful. Skar gained strength, too, crawling out of the vat to lie panting on the tiles.

Cade squatted beside him, inspecting the throat. Some of the burn damage had definitely healed. He glanced at the green solution. Was that a healing pool? Was it wise to drink the liquid like that? How had Skar known about it?

“Thanks,” Skar whispered.

Cade nodded. Awed by the man’s performance, his iron will to live.

“Give me a few more seconds.”

“You’re getting better, aren’t you?” Cade said.

Skar breathed deeply, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He opened his eyes, sat up and studied Cade. “I never want to do that again. I thought—” Skar shook his head, climbing to his feet afterward. He touched his throat, and his eyes shined. “The collar is gone. Thank you, my friend. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be free again. If we fail and I die, it will have all been worth it. That was excellent marksmanship by the way.”

“If I couldn’t hit a collar at that range—” Cade shook his head. “Well, what now? Do you have a plan?”

Skar became grave. “The rebellion has begun. We must reach the weapon cache and arm ourselves further. Then, we must free as many of us as possible. Any second now, Uldin might give the order and burn all the collared ones. We’ve wasted too much time as it is. Are you ready?”

“More than that, I’m eager to slaughter Rhunes,” he said, lifting the blaster.

“Good,” Skar said. “Follow me.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dr. Halifax was half-dozing as Charaton meticulously continued to repair the circuits in Velia’s brain. Then Uldin strode into the examining chamber. The doctor’s head jerked up and his eyes narrowed. What was with the Magister? For a Rhune, he seemed agitated.

Uldin reached Charaton, staring down at the still Velia. “Are the brain units working yet?”

“To a degree,” Charaton said.

“Can you wake her?”

“It would be better if we—”

Uldin held up a hand, cocking his head as if listening to an inner voice. “Repeat that,” he whispered.

Charaton didn’t say a word.

It occurred to Halifax that the command had not been directed at Charaton but someone unseen.

Uldin listened longer to the voice inside his head, or maybe he had a receiver in his head. He glanced at the two thralls standing against the wall and then peered speculatively at Halifax.

Oh, boy, what have I done now? “Have I offended you, Magister?” Halifax asked meekly.

Uldin ignored the doctor as he raised a hand, moving his fingers so a holo-screen appeared before him in the air. “Show me,” he said.

Unable to quell his curiosity, moving slowly so he didn’t bring attention to himself, Halifax slipped near, peering at the midair holo-screen.

What the hell?

A huge air fleet serenely sailed through a cloudless sky. There had to be over one hundred airships with their giant propellers all spinning madly. The great gasbags took up a massive amount of space, spreading out for kilometers. There was something different about these dirigibles, though.

Halifax craned his neck, frowning, trying to understand what the difference was.

Uldin glanced at him. “Do you see the problem?”

“I…I sense a difference to the airships,” Halifax said, “but I can’t tell what it is.”

“No? Look closer. Half the airships carry a torpedo on the bottom. It is a dichotomous sight: old-fashioned dirigibles with advanced torpedoes. Lord Magnus under the Eagle-Dukes’ auspices wishes to destroy the final Rhune base. The torpedoes have a precise and known cruising range. According to the report, the air armada has almost reached launch-point. The question arises, of course: why doesn’t Magnus fear a Rhune sky-raft attack? A few rafts could eliminate the entire fleet. Or is that the armada’s true purpose, to draw out Rhune sky-rafts?”

“Are you asking for my strategical advice, Magister?” Halifax said.

“Don’t be absurd. I’m merely wondering aloud if the air fleet is bait.” Uldin turned to his left and once more moved his fingers in the air. Another holo-screen appeared. It showed the curvature of Coad as seen from orbital space. A trio of teardrop-shaped strikers traveled in a group, moving fast in low orbit.

Uldin gestured again.

The holo-screen showed other striker trios in low orbit. They seemed to move according to a prearranged pattern two thousand kilometers above the torpedo-carrying air fleet.

“I admit I’m baffled,” Uldin said. “I’ve always believed that Captain Tarvoke wished to raid Rhune bases for high technology. Why, then, is the space bandit aiding Magnus’s supposed assault on our last base? The torpedoes are meant to destroy, not just defeat.” The Magister turned to Halifax. “You’ve seen the visuals. Do you understand their game?”

Halifax blinked. “Uh, Magnus is trying to draw out your sky-rafts so Tarvoke’s strikers can attack them?”

“You say that because you heard me say it. Yet, that appears to be the case. If the sky-rafts race at the air fleet, the strikers will launch an orbital bombardment, a tactical attack to wipe out the rafts.” Uldin tapped his chin. “It is late in the game for something like this. Is Magnus or Tarvoke attempting to buy time with this maneuver? Or is there a hidden ploy I’m not seeing, more subtle than either Tarvoke or Magnus could devise?” Uldin tapped his left cheek. “Why do this now? I’m beginning to wonder if it’s to fix my attention outward. That would imply they, or someone, doesn’t want me to look inward.”

“Destroy the lot of them,” Halifax said, snapping his fingers. “That will solve your problems.”

Uldin studied the doctor. “I’m superior, far superior to them. That means I do not act foolishly, hastily or arrogantly. Too often, the superior side loses because it believes itself so far above its opponent that it doesn’t take them seriously. That is not my particular fault. I take pains, Doctor, which is one of the reasons why I have always won.”

Oh, boy, what’s the best thing to do? Is Uldin agitated? Should I interfere—? If I don’t, he’ll turn me into a Rhune. If I can piss him off, he might make a mistake and that will give me a chance.

“Begging your pardon, Magister,” Halifax said, “but it appears as if the Rhunes have lost ground during your tenure. According to you, tens of thousands have perished, which saw many Rhune bases destroyed. Your only victories are perceived ones of Rhune individual superiority over others.”

“What caused you to say that?”

Halifax blinked several times.

“Come, come,” Uldin said, “give me an answer. I demand it.”

There was a pressure in Halifax’s mind. He fought it and realized something was prodding him. The urge to speak became unbearable. “I-I needled you because I fear becoming a Rhune.”

Uldin stared at him. “Your manner is different from earlier. What accounts for the change? Can you tell?”

Yeah, something’s using mind tricks on me, but I’ll be damned if I tell you that.

“Perhaps something occurred during my absence to embolden you,” Uldin said. “Look into my eyes, Doctor. Let us find the reason.”

Stay out of my mind, you bastard. Halifax deliberately turned away.

“I think not.” Uldin snapped his fingers.

An invisible force closed around Halifax’s head. The force turned his head until he peered into Uldin’s swirling eyes.

“Please,” Halifax slurred. “This isn’t necessary. I—”

“Shhh…” Uldin said. “Your manner tells me I’m missing something. I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve discovered the ancient alien influence—or if he has discovered you.”

Halifax struggled, resisting more than last time.

The force radiating from Uldin increased. Still, Halifax stubbornly resisted. Then, agony struck the doctor as his eyesight darkened. He felt disoriented and alone. He was falling, falling—he hit face-first upon the floor, his nose bashing against tiles. The new pain brought him out of the stupor Uldin’s hypnotic spell had placed him in. Halifax clutched his nose, groaning as he twisted upon the floor.

Uldin towered over him, the Magister studying holo-screen after holo-screen. “I felt something new in you, Doctor. I doubt you were even aware of it. But because of you, I’ve discovered that there is a rebellion taking place. What’s more, your damned Ultra is in the thick of it. Some of the thralls have weapons—”

The sudden thud of running feet caused the doctor to look up. The two smooth-skinned thralls rushed Uldin, their faces contorted with rage.

“I see,” Uldin said, while raising his hands.

The two thralls bounced off an invisible force field, falling onto the floor. They both scrambled up fast.

Uldin aimed a finger. A ray sprouted from the tip, piercing a thrall’s chest. Blood spurted as the thrall staggered, clutching at his chest, burning his hands in the ray—he screamed, charging anew and collapsing before he took four more steps. There, he twisted and gurgled, dying.

The doctor scrambled to his feet—and felt a force holding him in place. With an effort, he turned his head, watching.

“Closer,” the Magister told the last smooth-skinned thrall. The Rhune maneuvered his hands, undoubtedly controlling a force field. It tugged and jerked the reluctant thrall nearer and nearer.

“You’re part of this, are you?” Uldin asked.

The thrall shook his head.

“Look into my eyes,” Uldin whispered.

Halifax watched spellbound as the Rhune stood motionless. Invisible energy seemed to spear from the Rhune to the thrall. That one’s features went slack as the staring eyes dulled. Halifax hoped he didn’t look like that when Uldin hypnotized him, but he supposed he must.

“Are all the thralls part of the rebellion?” Uldin asked.

The thrall didn’t blink or answer.

Uldin stared with greater intensity. The thrall moaned as drool spilled from his mouth.

“You will speak to me,” Uldin whispered.

“Yes…” the thrall said. “We…we will kill you all.”

“Oh. Well, in that case,” Uldin said, gesturing.

The chrome collar became unbelievably bright. Halifax shielded his eyes even as he felt heat radiating from the collar. The thrall screamed, awakened from his hypnotic state by the pain. His neck burned as the brightness intensified. He writhed on the floor, bellowing in agony, panting and then screaming for mercy as he clutched the collar, snatched his hands away and clutched at it again, trying to pry it off his neck. But there was no chance of that happening. Soon enough, the thrashing ceased as the thrall died in bitter agony.

“Notice,” Uldin said calmly to Halifax. “Collared thralls are dying everywhere in the complex. I’m stamping out his little rebellion.”

The horrible cooked-meat odors—Halifax’s mind felt dull and spent, as if it had been stretched too far. He felt listless, but managed to ask, “Won’t you need the thralls later?”

“If I needed them, I’d save them.” Uldin began shutting down the various holo-screens until he only studied two. “Skar 192 and Marcus Cade led a small force of freed thralls. I wonder if I should flood the chambers or use gas. Unfortunately, I do need the Ultra.”

“You’re merciless,” Halifax said sleepily.

“Quite true,” Uldin said. “Take him to the ship,” he told Charaton. “Secure him in a cell. We won’t need the doctor for a time, but we will need him eventually.”

“And the woman, Magister?” Charaton asked.

“Yes, take her as well,” Uldin said.

“She’s asleep.”

Uldin coldly regarded Charaton.

“I will attend to the problem, Magister.”

“See that you do,” Uldin said. “I’ll join you in less than fifteen minutes. First, I must assess and see if the spirit of the Nagans is responsible for all this. Now, go. Take them both.”

Charaton dipped his red-dotted head. He swept his left hand afterward, using the invisible force field to propel Halifax toward an opening hatch. The Rhune manipulated the slate on which Velia lay. It rose. Charaton took the end and began pushing the now floating slate as Halifax jerked and staggered ahead of them. The last look the doctor had of Uldin was the tall gaunt Rhune standing before two remaining holo-screens. The demonic creature contemplated, no doubt deciding what would happen next in this side-annex of Hell.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cade raced after the sprinting Skar 192. Behind the Ultra ran five other collar-freed thralls. The five held flintlock pistols and cutlasses, while Skar had a blunderbuss. The old-style weapons had come from Skar’s secret cache. He’d also donned combat gear and boots, which had been stashed there as well.

Cade felt reinvigorated running hard with a plan and team members able to keep up with him. They might be fighting thralls born from a man-maker, a kind of substandard Ultra, but they were superior to regular humans in strength and stamina. Skar led them unerringly through the maze of corridors. Unfortunately, they’d passed countless neck-burned thralls twisted by their death agonies.

“Uldin slaughtered them all,” Skar said once. After that, his blunt face became bleak with determination. “That means he’ll gas or flood the levels soon. We must get to your ship. First, we’re making a small detour.”

The part about reaching the ship sounded good to Cade. He would take the thralls with him, of course. These were fighting men after his own heart. They did not speak too much. They did not boast. They acted with soldierly resolve. It felt as if he’d returned to his Force in Second Command, Battle Unit 175. The truth was that Cade felt more at home with the freed thralls than he’d felt anywhere else since his awakening in this future era.

Skar slid to a halt and peered around a corner corridor. He looked back, beckoning Cade.

“Rhunes,” the thrall whispered, holding up three of his thick fingers.

Cade exchanged places with Skar at the front.

“Kill them,” Skar whispered from behind.

Cade nodded, peered down the corridor—the way spread out into a room. He aimed the Lupus 19 Energy Gun and touched the trigger three times. Three separate gouts of energy speared. Three Rhunes slumped dead onto the tiles, portions of their braincases burned away.

“Excellent,” Skar said, racing past Cade.

The soldier followed. So did the other five. They raced past the dead Rhunes.

Skar continued to lead them through corridors, down ladders, through large empty chambers, more corridors and a long ramp leading down.

“Are we almost to the ship?” Cade asked.

“We have a small detour to make first.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see,” Skar said.

“Why are we detouring? Didn’t you say the Rhunes will flood the levels any minute now?”

“I need…more and new knowledge, maybe more strength.”

“What does that mean?” Cade demanded.

“Wait here,” Skar said. He sprinted even faster, pulling away from the others.

Cade slowed down and stopped. The other five did likewise. He looked at the panting thralls, with their chests heaving and with sweat staining their clothes.

“How long has Skar been your secret leader?” Cade asked.

“He is the oldest-serving thrall and knows the most,” Ram said, a thrall with a wide, flat nose.

“How long has he been here?” Cade asked.

Ram shrugged. “None knows. Skar—is different. He is like the old ones.”

“You mean like me?” Cade asked.

“No,” Ram said. “The old ones.”

“Who are they?”

Ram shook his head.

Cade turned and was shocked to see Skar walking back to them. The brutish fighting thrall did not run, but stared into his cupped hands. Something glowed there, something that absorbed the thrall’s interest.

That glow is beautiful. I have to get closer. Cade started for Skar.

“Wait,” Ram said, grabbing an arm. “Skar is communing with the old one.”

Cade stared at the hand as the words slowly penetrated. “What the hell?” he asked, looking up. “Skar has a communicator?”

Ram did not elaborate, although he let go of Cade. All five thralls turned their backs on the approaching Skar. They turned their backs as if what happened to Skar was too holy to observe.

That shine is amazing. I have to see what makes it. I must. Cade headed toward Skar. As the soldier did, a stubborn part of him welled. It’s using you. Cade scowled, shaking his head. Do you want to be a puppet again, with an obedience chip in your mind? “No. I don’t.” Then don’t stare at the light. Don’t let it screw with your mind.

Cade slowed his step, breathing hard. Could this be a clue to Uldin’s ancient enemy? Oh… He looked more and his heart started thumping in his chest. The glow in Skar’s hands beckoned, drawing him—

I’m not a pawn! I’m a soldier from Ultra Command. Are you going to be this alien’s bitch?

Cade shook his head as he resisted the impulse to rush closer. Yet, still the glow drew him. He ground his upper molars against the bottom ones, fighting the impulse, ripping his head to one side, no longer looking at the enticing glow. At that point, Cade halted, looked down and scowled. When he looked up again, Skar had his back to him, with his head hunched as the thrall stared into his obviously cupped hands.

Cade approached with greater caution as he grew more aware of the blaster in his grip.

“Don’t come any closer, Cade,” Skar shouted, with his back still to him.

“Are you okay?” Cade called.

“Wait,” Skar shouted. “He…he wants to speak to you through me, as he realizes you will resist for too long. The endgame has begun and we’re almost out of time.”

“What?” asked Cade.

“I must gather strength first. Then, he will speak to you.”

Cade felt a sinister force, a power. The desire to aim and fire at Skar grew strong in him. What was Skar holding? What did the thrall mean by saying that he wanted to speak with him? A sense of evil grew, sprouting from Skar.

The thrall shoved the small glowing object into a pants pocket. Then, Skar turned around. He was still the same thrall, but his eyes literally glowed, causing his features to shine evilly. He moved slower as he approached, and there seemed to be grim power surging through him, as if he could speak a word and cause meteors to rain upon Coad.

“W-Who are you?” Cade stammered, as his hackles rose. He wanted to raise the blaster and fire, but something resisted his efforts. He found himself panting, on the verge of trembling.

“I am the old one,” Skar said, his voice deeper than before and the glow in his eyes making it harder to look at him. “I am the last vestige of the Purple Nagans.”

“W-What does that mean?” Cade whispered.

Skar, or the thing possessing him, smiled bitterly. “Long ago, Soldier, the Purple Nagans acted in malice against all others. We were…different…unique…brilliant in designing wonders. We fashioned this pocket universe, using it as a testing laboratory. Many creatures have capered here for our amusements. A thousand years ago, we drew the cyber techs here, and the cyborg mobile base followed. A band of Federation military followed the base. We trapped them all here, and the last of us used a power—”

Skar cleared his throat, and for a moment, he seemed confused. His hand moved around in his pants pocket. The glow to his eyes intensified. The confusion vanished as he smiled with malevolence.

“You have questions, I know. The cyborg mobile base is locked behind a temporal shield, which surrounds Sarus’ orbital space. The Eagle-Dukes—” Skar shook his head. “The Purple Nagans, the Royal Nagans, perished eons ago. I did these things as a vestige of myself, but it cost me dearly. I am not truly alive as you conceive of life, although a portion of my ka lives on in the space seed.”

“Ka? I don’t understand.”

“The ka is my spirit, if you believe in such things. I do not. The ka was the essence of me. One could say mind or soul. I say ka. Perhaps I should say an imprint of my ka, as I am now part of a mechanical device. That is how you would conceive of it, anyway, although there is little mechanical in the seed.”

“Skar found your space seed?” Cade asked.

“Yes…yes…I drew him to me. Just as someone in your space-time continuum was drawn to and found a different bauble, a different seed.”

“I don’t understand,” Cade said.

“The Purple Nagans knew so much, and we acted as we wished. Old ones conferred the idea that we of the purple were gods, but that was not technically true. We were simply long-lived, powerful mortals. We had our time, our glories and high deeds. We perished, although the space seeds remained with portions of our kas. I learned how to live through others. Skar is the last, as my bauble is cracked, the energies flowing away year by year.”

“The bauble is what glowed in his hands?” Cade asked.

“The stars and nebulae,” Skar said wistfully.

“Does Uldin know about the space seed? He spoke about an ancient enemy. Was that you?”

Skar stiffened and his face contorted with rage. “The Rhunes attempt to trespass upon our glories and greatness. They seek to use our secrets for their own enhancements. Once, during their beginning time here, they were mere cyber techs. Now, they are Rhunes. They have advanced far in less than a thousand years. Uldin has built the ship. You have brought an FTL engine. It was the one secret I could always steal and keep from everyone. I would have kept it from you, too, but I am lessening—dying, you could say.”

“You must have caused the anti-Rhune virus to develop.”

“Of course,” Skar said. “The fighting thrall is merely my last tool. You could consider him a victim, I suppose.”

It wanted to use me, to make me its puppet. “You’re evil,” Cade said with loathing.

“In a cosmic sense, I suppose we were. The Rhunes have tapped many of our secrets, but we gave the Eagle-Dukes the man-makers. I thought the makers would equalize the sides and help maintain equilibrium against the cyber techs. I was wrong. Thus, many years ago, I decided to slaughter the Rhune interlopers. But I realize now that Uldin was too cunning for me. He fought back, and he learned deeper secrets. Without what remains of my ka acting secretly against them, the Rhunes will flourish in your space-time continuum until they rule all.”

He’s not telling me everything. He’s trying to trick me. “If you’re so evil, why not let the Rhunes rule?” Cade asked.

Skar laughed as his eyes glowed brighter yet. Then he snarled, violently shaking his head. “No! The Purple Nagans mined these secrets. We developed our sciences to a phenomenal pitch. I, as the last portion of the purple, will not allow Rhunes to rule in our stead. They will not steal our glory and secrets, but die by them.”

So, a revenge motive. I believe that much. What is he hiding? “How will you achieve your goal?” Cade asked.

“I have several means. I have been tugging strings—look!”

Skar waved his hand.

Cade stared where the hand had passed. What’s happening? He thought to see torpedoes dropping from airships. The torpedoes dropped into the ocean, activating, steel propellers spinning, causing the weapons to dive underwater. They sped for—

“Lord Magnus had ordered the first wave,” Skar said. “Soon, he will launch the second wave. This base is doomed, but the torpedo attack might not be enough to achieve my ends.”

“How do you know any of this?” Cade asked, bewildered.

“Do you suppose mine is the last ka-portion of the Purple Nagans left?”

“Earlier, you said it was. Were you lying about that?”

Skar’s head twitched. “Time is running out, Soldier. Now, I propose to hire you. In exchange for your skills, I will give you the Descartes and the program to reach the correct vortex into your own space-time continuum.”

Here’s his trick. Look out. “What program?”

“Skar will touch you, and I will place the program in your memory.”

Cade noted the glowing eyes, the evil cast to Skar’s blunt features. The soldier laughed, shaking his head. Touch me, and I’ll kill you.

“What is the problem?” asked Skar.

“I don’t trust you,” Cade said. “If you try to touch me, I’ll shoot to kill.” He indicated the blaster. “You’ve survived this long. Why won’t you try to survive even longer? That’s why you’re supposedly trading the Descartes. You want to leave the pocket universe. No, I will not allow you to place anything in my mind.”

“Not even so you can escape back to your space-time continuum to save your wife?”

Cade squinted at Skar, at the glowing eyes. He’s a liar. Live or die as yourself and not as someone’s puppet. “I’ve said my piece. I don’t trust you. No deal.”

Skar grinned evilly. “So be it. I will put the program into Velia De Lore’s mind. She must place the program in the tainted Nion XT Navigator for it to do you any good.”

“How do you know about the Nion?”

“Listen to me,” Skar snarled, as the glow to his eyes dimmed. “My time is short, and the first wave torpedoes are already on their way. I will imbue my total essence and power into this tool. He will lead you to the hangar bay. You must move fast and attack Charaton. He guides an inert Velia and an anxious Dr. Halifax. Skar will aid you in this. If you are quick, you can grab them both and possibly reach the Descartes. From there, you must use your soldierly skills to make sure the Jinse Tao is destroyed. I’m hiring you as a soldier. Do you agree?”

“What’s the Jinse Tao?” Cade asked.

“It is the name for the Rhune starship.”

Cade pondered. Dare he trust this alien intelligence just a little? Had torpedoes really launched from the air fleet? He would never allow Skar to touch him—

“Yes,” Cade said.

“Give me your word.”

“I just did.”

Skar laughed. “You think you’re so noble and pure. Well, maybe you are. I don’t know. I do know that I will do anything to stop Uldin and the Rhunes from taking our place. The Purple Nagans were the ultimate, and throughout the rest of time, we will always represent the highest achievement of any race.. Are you ready, Soldier?”

“Yes,” Cade said.

“Give me a few more moments with Skar. Then, it will be time to roll the dice and try to win our prizes—our goals.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Cade followed Skar as trepidation grew in his heart. The fighting thrall hadn’t spoken a word since the exchange with the so-called portion of the Purple Nagan ka in him. Could he trust the ancient evil? Had it lied or spoken the truth? How could he know?

Cade realized he couldn’t know. He still sprinted after Skar as the other five thralls followed him. They raced through corridors, climbing ramps, ladders and weaving through the maze of corridors. The pace told on them. How sound was it tactically to begin a fight with a badly winded team?

“Skar,” Cade panted. “Skar, you have to wait a minute so we can catch our breath before the fight.”

The fighting thrall looked back with his shiny eyes, and it seemed he would rebuke Cade. Then, Skar glanced at the five thralls, nodded and slowed. The others stopped behind him, panting, trying to regain their breath. They were in the middle of an empty corridor.

Finally, Cade looked up to see Skar staring at him. The thrall had set the blunderbuss against his left leg and had put a hand in his left pants pocket, stroking the bauble. The shine in his eyes brightened.

Cade refrained from cocking his head. There were lines in Skar’s face he hadn’t noticed before, as if the fighting thrall was aging. That must signify something.

“Is there a problem?” Skar asked in an altered voice.

I’ll kill him if he touches me. Cade blinked, realizing the evil exuding from Skar had intensified, as if more of the ancient ka filled the fighting thrall. The soldier suppressed a shudder, asking, “How much farther?”

Skar worked his mouth unpleasantly, as if he was no longer used to a human body, before saying, “You…mustn’t ask too much of me.”

“Is that you, Skar, or the ka?”

“Skar—that is to say me—hates the Rhunes. I’ve hated them for such a long time. You…saved my life earlier, Soldier.” The fighting thrall nodded sharply as if saying thanks one more time.

Nice try, ka. I’m not buying it. “Do you manipulate the thrall through his hatred for the Rhunes?”

“No…more…questions. I must save my concentration for the moment. I hired you, Soldier. You must acquit yourself with valor.”

“I intend no less.”

“I strive, but it is difficult. The tool, the thrall, desires my goals. Thus, I can work with his mind. This wouldn’t be possible without his consent.”

Am I staining my soul allowing the ka to possess him? How else can I stop the Rhunes? Is there anything of Skar left in him?

“You are a proud…Ultra. I almost said man.”

“I’m a man,” Cade said, “a man with a few genetic modifications. How far is the ship from here?”

With a hooded gaze, Skar looked up at the ceiling and then at a bulkhead. He trembled and turned to Cade suddenly, waving a hand through the air so faint images appeared.

Cade leaned forward, seeing underwater counter-missiles and mines detonate. Each explosion caused water to ripple and shudder. Attacking torpedoes crumbled. More shredded into pieces. Far in the distance, the second wave of torpedoes bored in on the hidden base.

The images vanished. Skar leered, saying, “We’re almost out of time. Come! Now is the moment for us to strike.” The fighting thrall burst into a sprint.

Cade shouted and followed him. The other five did the same.

Now began the final race to the starship. Skar ran like the wind, a demon of vengeance, with the blunderbuss in his calloused hands. Cade lowered his head and sprinted, flying through corridors until they reached stairs. The team bounded up them, bursting into a huge hangar bay. In that moment, Cade believed more of what the Nagan ka had told him. The Rhunes had never built the massive underwater base. Surely, they’d discovered it, using it. Before them in the hangar bay rested a vast spaceship. It was the size of a battleship. There were ramps leading up to vast doors. Rhunes filed onto the ship, doing so as the animals must have filed onto Noah’s ark just before the rains began.

“There!” Skar said in his strangely altered voice.

Cade followed the direction of the pointing finger. A tall gaunt Rhune in a black robe burst out from an arch and into the hangar bay, pushing a floating pad before him. On the pad lay a woman with dark hair. Behind them trailed an obviously weary Dr. Halifax.

“Death to the interlopers!” shouted Skar. The fighting thrall dashed at the target, covering ground faster than the others behind him.

Cade marveled at Skar’s pace, struggling to close the distance between them. As yet, no one else seemed to have noticed them. That could not last. Then, all the Rhunes on the ramps seemed to stop at once. Like machines, they turned, one after another. Some pointed at them. In a surreal display, Rhunes from the ramps began to float up into the air. They floated in upright positions, a few raising their hands and pointing their index fingers as if to fire rays.

Give him cover! Cade slid to a stop, dropped onto one knee and raised the Lupus 19 Energy Gun. He gripped his shooting hand with the other, steadying his aim. He led the nearest floater and touched the trigger. A line of energy speared from the gun and struck the head of the targeted Rhune. The head blossomed under the ray, sprouting bone and blood. The Rhune crumpled in the air, but he did not plummet. He floated in the same direction, oblivious to anything because he was dead.

The flying Rhunes as a group looked at Cade. That’s right. I’m the one killing you. Watch this. He fired again, killing another floater.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the five-thrall team dash past him, racing after Skar.

Cade snarled with his lips pulled back in a rictus to expose his teeth. He targeted with lethal precision, the ancient cyborg gun spitting tremendous firepower. One Rhune after another died.

I can do this all day. But it was not to be. Cade fired again, and the line hit an invisible shield. Damn. He tried a different target, and the same thing happened. Shit! Time for Plan B. The soldier jumped up and raced after the five-man thrall team. At least I can die with fellow soldiers.

Many tens of thousands of Rhunes must have perished to the virus, but with all of them trying to board the great space vessel, there had to be at least a thousand left. More than a hundred floated closer—

A command rang throughout the hangar bay. The Rhunes floating to the attack immediately switched direction, heading back for the starship. Were torpedoes with nuclear warheads closing in on the last base? Did they only have seconds left?

Skar had almost reached the Rhune pushing Velia. Halifax had dropped farther behind, making a show of following, but clearly ready to bolt for freedom.

As Skar neared them, the thrall leveled the blunderbuss. It exploded with a roar, sending a hail of broken glass and shot. The Rhune had released the floating gurney, raised his hands, and it appeared the broken shards and shot stopped in the air.

A weird color blossomed from Skar. The shards and shot shards suddenly continued as before, as if they hadn’t briefly lost their momentum. The mass shredded the tall Rhune, blowing chunks of flesh and blood from his body. He collapsed, flopping like a landed fish, and then finally settled into death.

Skar pitched aside the blunderbuss and it bounced across the deck. He stopped, half turned and motioned the five thralls toward the floating Velia.

They must have known what he meant, as the thrall team raced for her, grabbed the floating gurney, turned it and pushed it back toward Skar.

The ka-possessed fighting thrall raised his long knotted muscular arms in the air. Like that, he approached the great starship.

A running Halifax reached the five thralls. The small doctor shouted and pointed toward a distant annex.

A loud voice bellowed from the starship—

Before Cade could distinguish the voice, or understand what it said, or reach the five-man thrall team, a terrific explosion disrupted everything. Three more explosions followed immediately. The hangar bay deck under Cade’s feet shifted and shook, knocking him and many others down. Two more blasts shook the base yet again. Then water hosed into the hangar bay from half a dozen locations.

The torpedoes hit. The Eagle-Dukes did it. Are more coming? Cade scrambled to his feet, to fall again from yet another terrific shock. Crawl you idiot. Get some distance. He did just that, looking back.

Skar must have run to the others. The possessed thrall checked Velia, touching her. She sat bolt upright on the floating pad. Did Skar speak to her?

A dozen amazingly bright beams slashed from the ship at them.

Cade jerked away from the brightness, concentrated on his own predicament and climbed yet again to his feet. More tremors shook the deck plates. He stumbled forward. Water flowed in many areas, and other leaks sprung into existence. The sea was going to flood in and drown them all.

The great open hatches to the starship closed with several booms. Not all the Rhunes had made it aboard yet. Many clamored for admittance, some as they hovered and banged on the doors with their fists. Like those in Noah’s era who had failed to get a berth in time, they were locked out, doomed to die. The great starship began to thrum with sound.

It’s going to take off. Time’s almost up. Cade ran, unsure of where he was running to. He looked around and saw Halifax and two thralls helping a dazed Velia walk. Skar must have saved them from the rays, and it killed him, maybe the ka, too. I can’t believe it. The thing kept its word. The others raced toward a distant annex, having distance on him. Did Skar tell them where to find the scout? Right! Cade turned and chased after them, hoping the others knew where to find the Descartes.

The next few minutes were mad chaos: flooding spraying water, explosions, heaving deck plates and the slow lifting of the great Rhune vessel, the Jinse Tao or Golden Way.

Cade ran through the giant flooding hangar bay. I’m like an ant, I’m so damned small. The starship was like a giant human foot threatening to crush him. It rose higher, sliding sideways. The soldier would have fired the energy gun at it, but the gun was too pitiful to damage the great ship. He staggered through ankle-deep flowing water, the water rapidly rising. In the distance, he saw the parked Descartes. It was whole, on its four landing struts. Halifax was already scrambling aboard. The mayhem, the flooding waters—

Bright light shined down, the area of light growing.

Cade looked up and saw sun and sky as the base’s mighty hangar-bay doors opened. The Jinse Tao floated upward toward freedom. Red streaks fell like meteors from the sky. Maybe they were guided meteors, or kinetic orbital weapons, the so-called “rods from God.” Laser lines speared up from the starship, striking the red streaks, obliterating them.

Cade snarled. The water had climbed up to his thighs, slowing him, making it nearly impossible to continue for the Descartes.

The scout began to float upward, clearing the water as the struts retracted.

I’m over here. Come on, look at me. Cade waved his arms. Would Halifax stop to pick him up as he’d done on Avalon IV?

A new wave of torpedo explosions rocked what remained of the hidden base. Everything shook again. Yet more water poured into the hangar bay. Metal flew everywhere, some pieces clanging off the air-drifting scout, many skipping over water.

A wave of water swept Cade off his feet, carrying him swiftly as he floated on his back. Keep your head up. Don’t panic. He saw a thrall in the open hatch of the Descartes. It was Ram. He threw a snaking line that seemed to take forever as it sailed toward him. You have one chance. Don’t screw it up. Here it comes. From his back, Cade reached up, clutching the rope as a wave propelled him toward a swirling whirlpool. His fingers tightened around the rope, and the scout lifted. Cade’s grip slipped! No. Please. He clutched manically, the raging water threatening to drag him away. He held on, and Ram pulled hand-over-hand, dragging Cade upright, although the raging waters swirled at his thighs. The water tugged him, and the rope rose—the waters swirled at his ankles—Cade swung free. I can do the rest. He began shimmying up the rope like a simian beast as mayhem raged all around him. The Descartes began sliding toward the open bay door.

Just a little longer—Cade thought about the underwater base—stay in one piece a little longer. He kept climbing, forcing his weary limbs to do their part for his continued existence.

Chapter Thirty

Cade looked up as he climbed the rope, nearing one of the scout’s stubby wings. Ram was behind the wing in the hatch, anchoring him. Explosions swept the hangar bay even as the Descartes rose through the great bay doors into open air. The ocean around the underwater base seethed with motion, caused no doubt by the nuclear explosions.

Did radiation soak him? Or were these supposedly “clean” detonations?

Cade clutched the rope as a sudden bout of weakness swept through him. He rested as the Descartes moved forward, sliding above the churning waters. The scout’s movement was causing the rope to swing, making climbing more difficult.

The soldier leaned a cheek against the rough rope. If radiation poisoning was weakening him—

That’s not it. No. I’ve felt this before. Cade looked up. Evil, I’m sensing evil…Purple Nagan ka evil. Damnit. The ancient bauble survived. Skar must have passed it on before he died.

The soldier ground his teeth. So. The ka had lied to him. The bauble wasn’t cracked. Yes! He remembered Velia sitting up sharply on the floating gurney. Had that happened because Skar pressed the evil device into her hands? Would the Nagan ka attempt to suborn everyone aboard the Descartes? Of course, that would be its plan. That meant—

“It’s not happening while I’m alive,” Cade muttered.

The soldier started climbing again, hauling himself upward one centimeter at a time. He found it harder climbing over the wing as the scout was still sliding forward. How long did he have before the scout attempted to head for space?

Cade looked up but couldn’t see the Rhune starship anywhere in the sky.

“Cade!” Ram shouted from the hatch. “You have to hurry. We’re going to rush the starship any second.”

Using the rope, keeping hold of it, he climbed to his feet on the wing and walked toward Ram waiting just inside the hatch. Did he see a shine to the fighting thrall’s eyes? Could Skar have pressed the bauble into Ram’s hands? Why did the Nagan ka want him alive?

“Just a little farther,” Ram shouted.

Cade hesitated to cross the final distance.

Ram yanked on the rope, causing Cade to stumble forward, as he still gripped the rope. The thrall skipped back, making room. Cade tripped over the hatch threshold to fall inside the corridor.

“Good,” Ram said. “Now get up.”

From the deck, Cade looked up. He saw a flintlock pistol aimed at him. Ram’s eyes definitely shone.

“No tricks, Soldier,” Ram said, or the Nagan ka said through Ram. “You’re the best receptacle I’ve seen in ages. You will carry me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ram opened his mouth, laughing. He motioned with the flintlock. “Up, up. Get on your feet.”

Cade frowned. The flintlock pistol: something was wrong with it. Right, the hammer hadn’t been pulled back into place. That meant the flint wouldn’t strike down against the frizzen. Had the Nagan ka made a mistake? Did it think the flintlock was like a regular sidearm? Maybe the ka was weary from its recent and no doubt vast expenditure of energy.

“What it is?” Ram said. “I see cunning in your eyes. Make the wrong move and I’ll blow a hole in you.”

“I understand,” Cade said, looking down as he climbed to his feet.

“Put your hands behind your back and turn around,” Ram said. “I’m going to tie your wrists together. Then we’re going to see Velia.”

Cade straightened, put his hands behind his back and started to turn. “Why Velia?” he asked.

“Never you mind,” Ram said, “and don’t move.”

Cade whirled around as Ram stepped closer. The thrall’s shiny eyes widened, and he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, of course. Ram looked at the pistol. Then, he used his free hand and pulled the hammer back into place.

Cade grabbed both of Ram’s wrists and yanked, twisting aside. The wide-nosed, stocky thrall stumbled off balance out of the hatch and onto the stubby wing. Ram turned, aimed the flintlock and must have slipped. The hammer drove the flint down against the frizzen with a click. Ram yelled, falling back as the Descartes picked up speed. The pistol discharged and a pellet struck the hull just above the hatch. Ram yelled with horror as he stumbled backward. He dropped onto his stomach, though, landing on the wing and beginning to crawl for the hatch.

Cade slapped the switch, and the door slid shut.

For a moment, Ram banged on the outer hatch. The moment passed as the scout shifted position, causing Cade to slam against the inner hatch.

Then the gravity dampeners came online, settling things.

Cade whirled around in the short corridor. He still sensed the ancient evil. Ram’s eyes might have gleamed with alien spirit because he’d held the bauble, or the because the ka—

I have no idea why. He felt the evil. It was still aboard the Descartes. Likely, Velia had the ancient bauble. “Right,” he said, with the determination hardening in him. He wasn’t going to exchange one foul master for another. Cyborg, Rhune or Purple Nagan ka, he would stamp out each.

Cade started down the corridor, wondering if this wasn’t the moment to strike at the hopefully weakened Nagan ka. It would have expended energy, and the mistake with the flintlock was critical.

Cade didn’t head for the piloting chamber. He halted in the main corridor, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to sense—that cabin. He reached it and pressed the switch. The hatch slid open and he stepped through.

He sensed Steed at the last second, the second thrall that had made it onto the Descartes. The thrall had waited against a bulkhead and now drew the blaster from Cade’s waistband.

Cade twisted around and drove a hard right into Steed’s rock-hard stomach. The thrall grunted, stepped back—and Cade slammed another fist against the gut. Steed brought up the blaster. Cade chopped the wrist. Steed held onto the blaster. Cade roared, shoving against the shorter thrall, slamming him back against the bulkhead. A line of energy sprouted, hitting the opposite bulkhead. Cade rammed his knee up against the man’s groin, but Steed shifted so the knee slammed against a protecting thigh. The thrall brought the blaster around—Cade caught the wrist, beginning to force the weaker hand back.

Steed screamed hoarsely, his head snapping forward as he bit Cade’s chest. Biting, the thrall is biting me? With a roar of disgust and rage, Cade slammed the blaster-holding hand back against the bulkhead, doing it once, twice, thrice before the fingers opened and the blaster dropped to the floor. Then Cade reached up with both hands, grabbing the chin and the back of the thrall’s head. He twisted and surged down, dragging Steed down with him as he twisted and the thrall resisted, and Cade slowly but surely twisted the head more and more to the side until Steed thrashed and screamed, and the bones of his neck snapped explosively.

Cade sensed motion beside him as he released the unbreathing thrall. The final move shouldn’t have slain Steed, but it had.

“You’re marvelous,” Velia said, while aiming the blaster at him. “You’re brutal, amazingly strong and triumphant. Yes, you’ll do just fine, just fine indeed.”

Cade dragged his head up as he panted, spent by the rope climb, fight with Ram and now the death struggle with Steed. He viewed Velia.

She wore gray spaceman’s garb with the front zipper halfway down, exposing her wonderful cleavage and tantalizing him with more. Her eyes shined and seemed hollow with dark smudges underneath. There was craziness in her eyes and something more.

“What are you staring at?” she demanded, with the blaster aimed at Cade’s midsection.

The soldier shook his head as he climbed to his feet.

“You don’t think I’ll kill you if I have to?” she asked.

“Who are you really?”

Velia frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

“Do you have the ancient bauble?”

“Yes. I’m the Purple Nagan ka, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Cade nodded sickly.

“But I’m not going to stay with her. I’m going to possess you, Cade. You’re superior to anything I’ve seen for ages. Oh, Uldin was greater, but I couldn’t have possessed him.”

“You can’t possess me either,” Cade said wearily.

“I think I can.”

“No.”

Velia smiled haughtily.

“What’s more,” Cade said, “you can’t possess her either.”

“Oh?”

“She won’t let you. She loves me, and thus she’s going to fight you while I approach and take the blaster from her.”

Velia’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do it, Cade. I want your body and admire your fighting spirit. She may have feelings for you, but—”

“Velia,” Cade said, taking a half step toward her. “Don’t let it dominate you. The Rhunes did that and you fought them in the end, remember? You don’t want to play puppet to a crazy ka from ancient times. This is your moment to be your own woman, and to make it stick.”

“I’m warning you,” Velia shouted, taking a step away from him. “Don’t come any closer.”

Cade raised a hand. “I’m going to take the blaster, Velia. Then, I demand that you hand over the bauble so I can destroy it.”

“It’s mine,” she said. “Skar gave it to me. It’s beautiful.”

“It holds an ancient evil,” Cade said, taking a full step toward her.

“No, Cade. I’ll kill you. I will. I will.”

“Then, do it,” Cade said, “but know you’ll never know love or freedom. You’ll be in bondage all your miserable existence. I’m offering you a chance to be yourself for once and for the rest of your life.”

“Will you love me, Cade, if I give you the oval?”

“I’ll admire you.”

“I want you to love me.”

“I want you to find the man who will love you back,” Cade said. “You deserve that, you know?”

“No,” Velia said. “I’m used. I’m a puppet like you said. But I loved you, Cade. I heard someone say you loved me, and I believed it. That’s why I can still talk to you from my heart even though it’s trying to stifle my feelings.”

“Use those feelings to resist the evil,” Cade said, deciding this was the moment. He stepped closer as he stared into her eyes. He could actually see the war taking place in her as the ka struggled against her will. Did she really love him? Maybe. How otherwise did his hand reach the blaster and gently take it from her?

Cade tucked the blaster in his waistband. “Now show me the bauble,” he said. “This is the moment, Velia.”

She raised a hand to her mouth, biting the fleshly part of her hand as her eyes widened, as tears leaked from her eyes. “No,” she moaned. “This shouldn’t be possible. I am the Purple Nagan ka, the great one from ages past.”

Cade saw a glow from inside the space garb. He reached out, took the zipper and zipped open the suit. She indeed had wonderful breasts just as he’d known she would. The glow came from an inner pocket. He reached in, and warmth filled his hand as he extracted the ancient globe from her. It swirled with tiny stars and nebulae, and it was wonderfully beautiful to the eye.

Velia crumpled and began to weep piteously from the floor.

Cade stared at the globe unblinking. He could own it forever. He hadn’t realized how lovely it really was. Why, he could accomplish marvels with it in his possession. If he—a deep inner surge of disgust bubbled up in him. The globe tried to soothe that. He could do so much with it. Why, if he had it in his control—

“No,” Cade growled. The thing tempted him. It was so damn beautiful. It could be his. If he pocketed it, touched it at times and stared into its depths at others… Cade blinked, with his disgust fading away. A twitch of a smile moved his lips. He clutched the globe, and he realized in a sick instant that he would never find Raina if he kept it.

That’s not true, something said in his mind.

But it was true. Cade knew it. He had to rid himself of the thing. He stared into its depths. He saw—no! Groaning, he hurled the bauble from him so it struck a wall.

No, Cade, the Nagan ka said in his mind. I can give you so much. Don’t be a fool—

Cade drew the blaster, struggled against the thing so his hand shook. At that point, his trigger finger moved. The blaster beamed, raw energy devouring the ancient evil formed eons ago by a Purple Nagan creator. There was a silent scream, and hot residue slag that had been the globe melted against the deck plate.

The pressure in Cade’s mind stopped instantly.

Velia raised a tear-streaked face. “You did it,” she whispered. “You really did it. I can’t feel it anymore.”

“I really did it,” Cade said, with the blaster still in his hand. “I don’t feel it either.”

“What happens next?” Velia asked after a long moment.

He pointed at the cot with the blaster. “Get some rest, but make sure to buckle in. This could get rough.”

“I like it rough,” she said, staring into his eyes.

Cade blushed and turned away, determined to keep the oath that he’d made to his wife over a thousand years ago. He fled Velia’s quarters lest he succumb to her enticing temptation.

Chapter Thirty-One

Cade staggered into the piloting chamber and slumped exhausted onto a seat beside Dr. Halifax. The former case officer for Earth Intelligence sat at the controls, flying the scout, heading up from the ocean and sinking Rhune base.

The soldier slowly buckled himself in, the rope climb, fights and confrontation against the Purple Nagan ka having taken their toll. Was the seat always this soft?

Halifax glanced at him. “It’s good to see you again, Cade. I never thought I’d be sitting here like this, and certainly not with you.”

“Yeah,” Cade said. “Happy days are here again.”

Halifax glanced at him a second time.

It’s not over until you’ve defeated all comers. Cade inhaled, focusing, sitting up. “Where’s the Rhune starship?”

“It’s ahead and above us,” Halifax said, indicating the piloting screen. “It’s fighting its way into orbit. According to what I’m seeing, Tarvoke’s strikers must be launching everything they have at it.”

All comers—every bloody son of them. “What about the Eagle-Dukes and their railguns?” asked Cade.

Halifax shook his head. “I caught the tail end of a message. According to it, most of the mountain strongholds are radioactive ruins.”

“What?”

Halifax nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. Rhune missiles launched, I guess from various areas of the oceans. The railguns took out some—” The doctor shook his head. “But it wasn’t enough. I hijacked a striker visual and saw mushroom clouds everywhere. Reminded me of Avalon IV, if you know what I mean.”

Yeah, Cade knew.

“You know what I think?” Halifax said.

I know if I sit here quietly that you’re going to tell me.

“Every plan, every hidden play just came to fruition,” Halifax said. “Tarvoke must have brought everything he had to orbital space around Coad.”

We’re not out of this yet. You’d better get your head in the game, Force Leader. Cade heaved up from his seat, going to the sensor station, sitting and resting his face against the rubber lining on the sensor scope as he twisted dials. He searched, searched—

“Found it,” Cade said.

The Rhune starship had two hull breaches as it climbed for orbital space. Striker missiles and tiny meteors rained down from orbit at it. The starship’s auto-defense guns blazed from one end of the vessel to the other, taking out everything Tarvoke could hurl at it.

“Damn,” Cade said. “This is as hot a firefight as I’ve seen since The War.”

“Whoa,” Halifax said.

Cade looked up and saw the doctor point at the pilot screen. Three giant missiles sprouted from the ocean. They zoomed upward toward orbital space.

“Must be Rhune missiles,” Halifax said.

Cade put his face against the sensor scope, adjusted dials and got a close-up of one. “Different configuration than anything I’ve seen so far,” he said. “I think—three-stage rockets.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like you said, they’re heading for orbital space. And this is more of Uldin’s surprises.”

“Hope Tarvoke understands that and adjusts,” Halifax said.

The free trader must have, for in low-Coad orbit, two thousand kilometers above the climbing Jinse Tao, three trios of strikers maneuvered into attack position. They launched missiles, with empty missile-pods detaching from each teardrop-shaped vessel afterward. The missile-flock sped down. At the same time, several saucer-shaped vessels disgorged programmed rocks—the tiny meteors. The rocks also dropped at the Jinse Tao, gaining velocity as they plummeted.

The Rhune starship continued to climb, mainly using its gravity dampeners to do so. Guns blazed away on the already-stricken starship. Exploding shells took out striker missiles. Laser lines eliminated the rest and burned the smart rocks. Another round of Jinse Tao shells blew the rocks apart, rendering them harmless as the pieces scattered and plummeted elsewhere.

In low orbit, more striker trios maneuvered high over the climbing starship.

By now, however, the three giant missiles accelerated at a fantastic rate through the planet’s atmosphere. On each of them, a bottom stage detached and fell away. A new motor roared on each, gaining yet more velocity as the missiles neared the edge of orbital space.

Whoever ran Tarvoke’s end of things must have gotten frightened. The strikers quit targeting the Rhune starship so they could concentrate on the giant missiles.

A counter-rocket launched from a saucer reached one of the climbing Rhune missiles. The giant, ocean-launched missile exploded, its pieces raining back down toward the distant planetary surface.

The second Rhune missile shrugged off various assaults and reached low orbital space. The warhead split into masses of slivers. The slivers sped at numerous striker groups and saucers. It was a race. The strikers and saucers fled or concentrated on the slivers. Several slivers shredded under a hail of gunfire. Other slivers reached striker trios and bloomed into small nuclear fireballs, taking out the pesky space fighters and saucers.

“Score one for the bad guys,” Cade muttered.

He watched the last giant missile, which had slowest its ascent at the last moment. It was almost as if the missile had wanted to know how its brothers had fared before it committed itself. What the heck? Is it a dud? Not all weapons worked during combat. That was normal. But there was something premeditated about this failure.

Keep watching. You might learn something.

The last warhead did not burst into splinters. It ejected from what was left of the last stage. Then it began to tumble end over end. The warhead, more of a great pod really, wobbled and rolled toward deeper space. At that point, side jets began to steady it, stopping the tumbling and wobbling.

That’s not suspicious in the least—yeah, right.

The warhead pod didn’t change direction but kept heading out. It was an apparent dud, useless to the orbital battle. The last strikers and saucers didn’t even bother with it. Could Uldin have calculated for that? That seemed incredible, beyond statistical game theory or even Rhune genius.

“What should we do now?” Halifax shouted. “I’ve been hanging back, waiting for an opportunity. But there isn’t one. The Rhune vessel is still climbing, thinning out the strikers, firing at everything. Maybe we should go around to the other side of the planet and try to leave from that direction.”

“No,” Cade said, as he peered through the sensor scope, still watching the dud warhead. “I made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

One I plan to keep despite everything. “We can’t leave that way because the Eagle-Duke railguns might have survived in greater numbers on the other side of the planet. I think it’s time.”

“What’s that mean?” Halifax shouted. “Time for what, exactly?”

“To keep my end of the bargain,” Cade said. “Listen. We have to go up after the Jinse Tao. Maybe we can hit it from the bottom as the last strikers hit it from the top.”

“What?” Halifax shouted. “Are you crazy? If we attack the Rhune vessel now, it will destroy us.”

“I was hired to destroy it,” Cade said.

“Who in the hell hired you?”

“It’s a long story,” Cade said. “But I gave my word.” I have to keep my word once given, right? An oath is an oath even if given to a diabolical, backstabbing Purple Nagan ka.

“Look, Cade, we’re lucky to be here alive in one piece. The Rhunes—”

“Are eventually heading for our space-time continuum,” the soldier said. “There’s another thing. Uldin has to capture us if he hopes to make it to our universe.”

“I know, I know,” Halifax said. “It’s disgusting, but they have some kind of device that uses our bodies, detecting a background radiation pattern, I think. It will help them fix onto the right space-time continuum or to pick the right vortex to get them there.”

“Yet another reason we should strike at the starship while it’s in battle,” Cade said.

“Ah…no,” Halifax said. “It’s raining freaking meteors and missiles. We don’t want to get in the way, especially while trapped deep in a gravity well. This is Tarvoke’s moment. Let him get the glory if he wants it.”

Cade frowned. Halifax has a point. Still, I gave my word.

“Check this out,” Halifax said. “The strikers are gathering in one spot up there. I think Tarvoke took the enemy’s measure and now he means business.”

The ka just double-crossed me, tried to possess me. That nullifies the conditions to my oath. Besides, I gave an oath to Raina. It’s time for some old-fashioned practicality.

Cade recalibrated the sensor scope so he could watch the strikers. Halifax was right. The remaining strikers were converging over the rising starship. The strikers unleashed a hail of missiles. Afterward, the strikers themselves aimed down and followed in what looked like a kamikaze attack. Were the pilots going to ram the starship?

The Jinse Tao blazed away with its auto-guns, launching counter-rockets as well.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Halifax said. He turned the Descartes sharply, heading for a different area of the planet.

I could counter-order him, but it is his ship, right? Cade made a sour face, realizing that he was spouting self-justification.

A few of the Jinse Tao-launched missiles ignited. Nuclear fireballs devoured the faster striker-missiles. That also created a sensor whiteout. Cade couldn’t see what was happening. It was likely the same for other sensor operators as well. As the whiteout dissipated, a striker missile passed the starship’s auto-defenses and detonated against the hull, creating the third and greatest breach.

That seemed to be a signal. A fast striker slammed against the mighty starship. Two others did the same. At that instant, a huge and volcanic eruption of nuclear intensity obliterated the Rhune vessel and every striker that had zoomed down in a kamikaze attack.

“Damn,” Halifax whispered. “Tarvoke did it. He destroyed the Rhune starship. What do we do now?”

Cade was too busy recalibrating the sensor scope to answer. No way, I don’t buy that that’s it, not against Magister Uldin. Could the starship have been a decoy? If it was a decoy, what is the real thing?

Cade found and focused on the dud warhead, the one that had been tumbling away from the planet. Wait a minute. It wasn’t tumbling before. The side-jets had corrected for that. Why’s it tumbling again? Cade’s gut tightened. He felt as if his eyes would pop out of their sockets, he was staring through the sensor scope so hard. The capsule tumbled, rotated—and showed an empty shell.

Cade sat back, blinking. The dud held a tiny spaceship, didn’t it? Hot damn, Uldin is out there, pulling a fast one on everyone. He knew it was impossible to leave and sacrificed his fellow Rhunes to cover his escape.

Putting his face against the rubber lining of the scope, Cade scanned near space. He found no evidence of a secret spaceship. He saw—he fiddled with the controls. For just a moment, there was wavering up there. That ceased within seconds. He made another sensor sweep but couldn’t find the wavering a second time.

“What should we do?” Halifax asked.

Cade snapped upright. We have to get out of here before the next shoe drops. “Doctor,” he said loudly. “Climb, climb, climb.”

“What?”

“Don’t waste any more time,” Cade said. “Get into space before it’s too late.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

The ex-Concord Scout Descartes used its gravity dampeners and thrusters to climb out of the Coad gravity well. It did so well away from the spreading radiation of the destroyed Jinse Tao. The massive nuclear detonation created by the exploding Rhune starship seemed to have upset Tarvoke’s remaining low-orbital strikers. There were no more saucers. Perhaps EMP, heat and heavy gamma and X-ray radiation had wiped out all but a few of the free trader’s space fleet.

Using that window, the Descartes reached low-orbital space before any of Tarvoke’s remaining strikers noticed. At that point, the scout poured it on, seeking to gain velocity before anyone else noticed. They wanted to be far away from the planet by that time.

Less than three minutes later, the green comm light began to blink.

“I’ll take that,” Cade said, moving to the comm station, clicking a switch.

Graven Tarvoke’s fleshy features and nearly fat-enfolded eyes regarded him. The captain wore his silky multicolored turban with its great red ruby.

“Going so soon?” Tarvoke asked with a leer.

Cade checked a setting, realizing the signal came from deep space far ahead of the Descartes. The Free Trader Cyprian had stayed well away from the action and could maneuver into their path easily enough. They weren’t out of it yet.

“You won,” Cade said cheerfully.

“I destroyed the Rhune starship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yes,” Cade said. “That’s what ‘won’ means.”

“I beg to differ,” Tarvoke said. “My victory conditions are otherwise. For instance, I need an Intersplit engine. It would appear that you have the only one left.”

That was a problem, all right. Cade didn’t see any way out of it, either. Could he divert the free trader’s attention to something else? It was doubtful, but he had to try.

“Coad is yours,” Cade said.

“That’s absurd,” Tarvoke said. “The Eagle-Dukes rule Coad.”

“Not anymore, as many of the Eagle-Dukes died during the stronghold strikes.”

“Obviously true,” Tarvoke said. “However, it doesn’t change my need concerning the Intersplit. I want to leave, not contest the planet.”

“Can flintlocks and dirigibles stand against your space fleet?” Cade asked.

“Firstly, I’m not sure you heard me. The Intersplit is the thing. Secondly, I don’t have much of a fleet left, as only a few strikers remain. That leaves me with the Cyprian. Oh, you might be interested to know that it also leaves me with many Raptor 5000 missiles. Incidentally, each one is more than capable of destroying your vessel.”

“How does destroying the Descartes help you gain an Intersplit engine?”

“In truth, it does not,” Tarvoke said. “However, if I can’t have the engine, no one can. Do you understand my meaning? I refuse to remain a prisoner in the pocket universe any longer.”

“Cade,” Halifax said sharply.

The soldier glanced at the doctor. Halifax pointed at the hatch. Cade half turned—

Velia De Lore stood outlined there. She wore the same gray spaceman garb, although she’d pulled the zipper all the way up. Her eyes were puffy, maybe from a crying jag, and there were still dark hollows under her eyes.

Velia gave him a weary smile.

“What’s going on over there?” Tarvoke asked from the comm. “Do I have your attention?”

Cade cleared his throat as he regarded the captain on the screen.

“I overheard what he threatened,” Velia said in a throaty voice. “I thought I could help, as I still remember a few things.”

“Your attention keeps wandering, Cade,” Tarvoke said. “Why is that?”

Cade turned the screen to show Velia.

“Oh,” Tarvoke said. “I see.”

Velia came closer to the screen. “May I?” she asked Cade.

The soldier thought a second and considered what she’d just said about remembering a few things. Could the Purple Nagan ka have left some memories behind, ones he’d planned to use in her? Given what had happened so far…maybe that wasn’t too farfetched. The soldier indicated the screen.

Velia brushed back her hair as she bent toward the screen. She smiled at Tarvoke. “I, ah, was supposed to relay a message to you, Captain. I don’t know how I know, but there is a small Rhune base on Coad at these coordinates.”

Velia gave them.

“Paugh!” Tarvoke said. “Even were I to believe you, what am I supposed to do with that? So there’s a base? What is that to me?”

“Send a ship to the coordinates,” Velia suggested. “If you’re there first, you can claim it.”

“I need an Intersplit engine,” Tarvoke said.

“I believe there are schematics at the base that will allow you to fabricate such an engine aboard the Cyprian.”

Tarvoke squinted so his eyes practically disappeared from view. “First, how can you possibly know about a secret base and the schematics?”

Velia shrugged. “I have no idea how, but I do.”

Tarvoke grunted, saying, “Secondly, even if true, I would have to verify everything. That means I would have to personally go down and inspect this secret base. In the meantime, do you think I’ll let the Descartes continue for the system’s edge?”

“Why not?” Velia asked. “As you threatened so eloquently a moment ago, you can always launch Raptor 5000 missiles. They would easily catch and destroy the Descartes.”

Tarvoke tapped his double chin, nodding shortly. “All reasonable points. But why shouldn’t I destroy the Descartes anyway and be done with it?”

Velia smiled even more prettily. “I have codes, Captain. If I give Marcus Cade the codes and he activates them, the secret Rhune base will self-destruct.”

“Easy to say,” Tarvoke remarked with a shrug, “much harder to achieve.”

“True, true,” Velia said. “Do we have a deal?”

“What?” Tarvoke asked. “That’s not how you dicker. Make me a better offer. Frankly, I don’t believe you about the codes. The idea is absurd.”

“No,” Velia said. “The offer is quite sufficient. Take it or leave it.”

Tarvoke scowled. “Do you agree to that, Cade? Take it or leave it? What if I leave it and destroy your ship?”

Cade turned the screen so he and the free trader could see each other again. He half-believed Velia about the secret base. Uldin might well have a secret cache of goods for an emergency. The idea of her having destruct codes, though, he didn’t buy that. That meant she was bluffing. Should he back her bluff? How else was the Descartes going to get away?

“Come now Captain,” Cade said, “the deal seems reasonable. If engine schematics aren’t there, you can always destroy us with the Raptor missiles.”

“I don’t want to destroy you,” Tarvoke whined. “I want the Intersplit.”

Cade glanced at Velia. She was staring at the polarized window as if studying the blackness of the pocket universe. If the ka had left some memories, would they remain? How would those ancient memories change her? The soldier regarded Tarvoke again before the free trader became more suspicious.

“It’s your choice, Captain,” Cade said in a level voice. “It appears you have almost everything you desire.”

“Is that how you see it?” Tarvoke asked sarcastically. “Tell me, Cade, how do you plan to get back to your space-time continuum?”

Cade pointed at Velia, hoping she could still reprogram the Nion XT as promised.

“What does that mean?” Tarvoke asked, maybe unable to see her anymore.

“I have a way,” Cade said cryptically.

“Are you afraid to tell me, knowing I’ll immediately launch against your ship?”

“No. I wish to keep a bargaining chip or two in case I need them later.”

“Why would you need bargaining chips?” Tarvoke asked suspiciously.

“That should be obvious. In case Velia was blowing smoke about the coordinates she just gave you.”

Tarvoke grunted, turned his head, maybe thinking things through, and finally regarded Cade anew. “Why not? Like the harlot says, I can always launch the Raptor 5000s later. Why did you save her, Cade?”

“I have my reasons,” the soldier said.

“I’ll bet,” Tarvoke said with a leer. “Don’t go too far from Coad just yet. You and I may have to go over this again, if you know what I mean.”

Cade did, clicking off the view screen as he swiveled to regard Velia. “How do you know about the secret base?”

Velia exhaled, and it seemed as if her knees buckled. She stumbled toward a sharp console edge.

Cade made no move to jump up and help her, suspecting one of her many ploys to try to get him break his oath to Raina.

Halifax leaped up with a shout, rushing to Velia, catching her and bringing her to an empty seat. As the doctor helped her sit, he stared at Cade.

Cade drummed his fingers on the sensor console.

“Thanks for nothing, Cade,” Velia said. “What, do I have the plague that you can’t catch me?”

“How did you know what you know?” Cade asked.

“Obviously you know how,” she said. “The Nagan ka inserted the thoughts into my brain. He or it is dead, but some of the thoughts remain. I can feel them fading, though, so I figured I’d better get in here while I could still help. Do you want me to reprogram the Nion XT Navigator or not?”

“I do,” Cade said.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Halifax said, looking from Cade to Velia. “What’s this about reprogramming my navigator and about a Nagan ka, did you say?”

Cade gave the doctor a quick rundown on what had been happening.

Halifax scowled. “So…some ka thing reprogrammed the Nion the first time when we went to Tarragon Down?”

“I think so,” Cade said.

“And that’s why we originally drifted into the Vellani Rift?” Halifax asked. “The Nion XT did the other Nagan’s programmed biding?”

“That’s my conclusion.”

“But Velia’s free from this Nagan ka now?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” Cade and Velia said at the same time.

Halifax nodded. “Even supposing Tarvoke agrees with her deal, that still leaves the cyborg mobile base, the double Tarvoke waiting outside the star system and our slipping through the right vortex to get home.”

“There’s also the possible stealth ship Uldin is using,” Cade said.

“Uh, what are you talking about?” Halifax asked.

Cade told them about his suspicions concerning the dud warhead and wavering he’d seen.

“Great,” Halifax said. “That’s just great. Tell me, when is it going to stop? When are we going to catch a break?”

“Right now,” Cade said, pointing at Velia. “Let her reprogram the Nion, and we may actually make it back to our space-time continuum—provided we can reach the vortexes.”

Halifax turned to Velia. “How long will the reprogramming take you?”

“Two or three hours, I think,” she said.

“Sure,” Halifax said. “Give it a try. What do we possibly have to lose?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

From his piloting board, Dr. Halifax watched Cade sidelong.

The soldier kept glancing at Velia, looking away sharply, and then remorselessly turning again to study her as she hunched over the Nion, typing programming code. Cade turned away yet again, almost as if…

Halifax nodded. Cade turned away out of guilt. Obviously, the soldier liked what he saw. Who wouldn’t? Velia was stunning. But the soldier had a thing about his wife. Cade was scrupulously faithful to her—or at least, he wanted to be. What did Cade think about when he eyed Velia? Did he concentrate on her perfectly shaped buttocks, the firm thrust of her breasts or the angelic quality of her features?

Cade stood abruptly. “Call me when she’s finished with the Nion.”

“Of course,” Halifax said.

Velia looked up, surprised.

Cade did not glance at her, but strode from the command quarters into the corridor.

She glanced at the doctor.

Halifax smiled.

After a moment, Velia smiled back. It seemed like an automatic thing. Did he look into her eyes too long? She gave him a calculating study, and her smile widened a trifle.

“You really understand what you’re doing with the navigator?” Halifax asked.

The smile faded. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You told Cade the Nagan ka inserted memories into your mind. I’m wondering if you understand what you’re typing, or if you’re coding from rote memory, as it were.”

“Does it matter?”

“I should think considerably,” Halifax said. “Do you believe you’ll retain the data after—?”

“No,” she said, interrupting. “I can feel it slipping away from me even now.”

“Oh. That’s a pity.”

“You’re wrong,” Velia said with heat. “I don’t want the disgusting alien memories in my head. You have no idea what it’s like having a foreign presence rummaging in your thoughts. I could feel it studying this, probing that.” She shivered. “Look. I need to finish this before I forget how to do it.”

“By all means,” Halifax said.

Velia hunched over the board, touched her kissable lips with a fingertip as if thinking carefully, and then began to code once more.

The doctor watched her for a few seconds longer. He decided that he loved all of her, the entire package. What a dish. If she was as good in bed as she looked—

Halifax turned away, his eyes half-lidded as he indulged in erotic imaginations. If he should lock the hatch, stand, stretch and turn to her—

The doctor grunted, torn from his fantasy as a blip began to blink on the pilot board. He studied the blip, finally stood and went to the sensor scope. He manipulated the scope, soon fixing on the boxlike object of the Free Trader Cyprian.

There might or might not be a stealth ship out here with them. Even if there was a tiny Rhune stealth ship, Magister Uldin did not automatically have to be one of the passengers. What was the point of conjecture?

Halifax focused on the giant free trader—giant relative the Descartes. Suppose there was no Rhune stealth ship. That meant the Cyprian was the last real spaceship able to intercept them. Sure, there was the cyborg mobile base hidden behind a temporal field at the gas giant. Did that vessel really count, though? The Cyprian was definitely out there, blocking their way and possessing armaments capable of destroying the scout.

Halifax used a zoom function, cataloging what he could about the ship. The Cyprian’s hull plating was pitted in areas. That looked like meteor damage to him. Ah. There were welded metal slabs in places like bandages. The Cyprian had taken hits before and been repaired afterward. That looked like quick space repairs, not careful dockyard repairs.

Halifax became thoughtful.

What did they know about the vessel? Well, it had fabricators inside, meaning it was like a mobile factory. It had been in space—in the pocket universe—for a long time, years. No doubt, the crew was sick of service. Could they use that against Tarvoke? They could if they learned more about the crew and captain. Was Tarvoke the kind of man to let competitors go free if they no longer had an advantage over him? Suppose the captain got what he wanted on the planet. Suppose he cleaned out the secret Rhune cache. Might Tarvoke launch Raptor 5000s at them on general principle?

Halifax made a face. Tarvoke had shown too much guile to be trustable now.

With a sigh, the doctor sat up, glancing at Velia. What a body. If Cade didn’t want her, he should make a play for her. Did she only like the musclebound types, or did she appreciate a man with brains?

She straightened from her task and turned toward him. “Must you leer so openly? It’s quite rude, you know?”

He raised his hands palm upward. “I appreciate beauty. What can I say?”

“That you’re a horny old man.”

“Old? I’m not old. I’m lonely, though. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“You’d better not let Cade catch you staring at me like that.”

Halifax laughed. “Cade will never touch you.”

She raised her chin as if he’d insulted her.

“I, on the other hand, will allow you to persuade me to chase you,” Halifax said.

Velia nodded. “My first assessment about you is right. You’re a satyr, a little goat-man.”

“Here now, there’s no need to be insulting.”

“I’m just stating facts,” Velia said. “But I really should get this programming done before I forget how. Unless, of course, you want to remain in the pocket universe for the rest of your life.” She smiled. “Such a prospect actually sounds good to me.”

“Because you’ll have longer to work on Cade?” he asked.

She smiled even more sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Halifax turned away because a lump formed in his throat. She was unbearably sensual. He really, really wanted her. How in the hell did Cade summon the fortitude to resist her allure anyway?

He went back to studying the Cyprian in the sensor scope, watching it begin acceleration. He adjusted some dials, taking readings on the exhaust. That was nuclear fusion with deuterium fuel. If Tarvoke was from a different space-time continuum, he didn’t have a better space drive. In fact, it seemed much the same as their own, oddly so. Did that mean anything significant?

Halifax muttered under his breath. He had no way of knowing.

Getting up, returning to the piloting board, Halifax plotted a course that would take the Descartes away from the Cyprian’s path—if the free trader headed directly for Coad. Once plotted, he engaged more thrust, building up velocity, hoping Captain Tarvoke would find the secret cache, find its contents rewarding and be willing to accept that as payment for leaving them alone.

Halifax sighed loudly.

“What is it now?” Velia asked, straightening once more.

“The waiting,” he said. “I hate the waiting. It will be hours before we know if we win or lose the whole shebang.”

“Waiting is hard,” Velia agreed, before returning to her reprogramming of the Nion XT.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Cade stared up at the ceiling of his tiny quarters as he lay on the cot. His feet were bare as he wriggled his toes.

Deep exhaustion seeped through him and as nervous tension continued to drain from him. He had been fighting, thinking, risking for hours. Now, they were off Coad. They had the Descartes and there was a real chance of trying for home, for their space-time continuum. The last twist of fate—the Purple Nagan ka—had nearly defeated them. And yet, with the ka’s defeat, Halifax and he had the means to get home. No. That wasn’t exactly correct. They could escape the pocket universe. But could they choose the right path in order to get home again? The Nagan ka through Velia would allow them to make the correct choice.

Cade exhaled, closing his eyes. The exhaustion from the last few hours was claiming him, driving him toward sleep. As his breathing evened out, he thought about Velia, about her bare breasts and the possibility of stripping her and taking her to bed. He could make love to her…

“No,” he whispered, as the exhaustion drove him down, down. “I love my wife.”

Those were his last words as he drifted to sleep and soon began to dream. They were formless at first and then images like cubes, triangles and glowing pentagons appeared and faded away. It seemed then that his body, or rather his spirit, drifted in an alien realm. Did he plunge into the past of a thousand years gone?

His spirit seemed to hover over the rim of a dark planet and realized he was in an observatory of a dropship. Battle Unit 175 would drop from orbit onto cyborg-held territory. In the dream, Cade was aware of standing alone in the observatory. His mates were getting drunk, for tomorrow they would drop. He should be getting drunk with them, but he—

His neck itched and he looked around. It seemed that someone spied on him from around a corridor corner.

“Who is it?” he called in the dream.

There was a giggle, a feminine sound, and someone darted away from the edge over there.

“No you don’t,” he shouted. Cade ran after her, and it seemed that his feet would not move fast enough to propel him forward, so he ran in place.

“Who are you?” he shouted. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Marcus,” a different woman said.

He stopped running, and he spied Velia De Lore with her zipper all the way down. He stared in wonder at her glorious breasts. In the dream, he was grinning widely indeed.

“Take me,” Velia said, as she sauntered toward him.

“I…” Cade nodded. He wanted to take her. He could— “No!” he shouted. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

Velia dissolved.

Cade found that his feet finally moved again. He gave chase down the corridor, knowing that he ran after Raina, beautiful Raina, his wife, his prize, his beloved.

He darted through one corridor after another. Ah! He caught a glimpse of her. She wore red slacks, his favorite. “Raina!” he shouted. “Stop! Wait for me.”

“Catch me if you can,” Raina teased. “Can you do it, darling?”

Cade roared, and he truly began to run. He rounded a corner and saw Raina as she raced away. He was grinning now. “I’m going to catch you.” He sprinted faster, closing the distance between them, closing.

Raina squealed with glee and she began to turn her head—

Cade’s head snapped up in his quarters aboard the Descartes as he lay on the cot. His eyes were unfocused, questioning. With sudden realization, he understood that he’d almost seen Raina face-to-face in his dream. He would have kissed his wife, held her, hugged her—

A bitter sense of having been cheated swept through him. The ache of loneliness—oh, how he missed his dear wife. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath—

I must find Raina. She’s out there. I can’t let anything stop me. I have to get rid of Velia De Lore. If I can escape the pocket universe, I have to leave her at the first planet I can.

Cade swung his legs off the cot, putting his bare feet on the floor. He opened his eyes, nodding to himself. With a grunt, he stood.

He hadn’t slept long, only a power nap. He felt better, and he knew they weren’t out of it yet by a long shot. There was Tarvoke, the cyborg mobile base, the Tarvoke double just outside the pocket universe, the vortexes—

“And the stealth ship,” Cade whispered. “I have to find the stealth ship. I can’t give Uldin any edge.”

The soldier rummaged in a bureau drawer, finding and putting on a fresh pair of socks. Then he donned his boots and almost left the chamber. He went to a wall speaker instead and pressed it.

“Problem?” Halifax asked.

“Is she done in there?”

“Not yet.”

“Tell me when she is,” Cade said.

“You mean after she’s gone?” Halifax asked softly.

“Yes,” Cade said. “That will work.”

***

The soldier entered the piloting chamber after Velia had finished with the Nion XT and left the room.

“The Cyprian is still accelerating,” Halifax said from the piloting board.

“Is it heading for Coad?” Cade asked.

“Yep.”

“And us?”

“We’re leaving by a much different route,” Halifax said. “We don’t want our paths to cross.”

“Good thinking,” Cade said, heading to the sensor scope. He sat and studied the huge, boxlike Cyprian. He mentally cataloged the Descartes’ armaments and tried to think of ways they could successfully attack the mighty vessel. He didn’t see one except for a kamikaze strike. But what would be the point of that? At last, he leaned back, rubbing his neck.

“Kind of freaky when you think about it,” Halifax said.

Cade raised an eyebrow.

“A few hours ago, we were on Coad, trapped in the Rhune base. Now, we’re up in space again. We only have one real enemy, one possible threat left, I should say.”

“You’re talking about the Cyprian?”

“Of course,” Halifax said. “There could be a stealth ship, but we haven’t confirmed its existence yet.”

Cade pinched his lower lip, thinking about all that had happened. “The Jinse Tao exploded. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“None of us were.”

“I wonder…could Uldin have foreseen the incident?”

Halifax smirked. “That isn’t your real question.”

“No?”

“No,” Halifax said. “The real question is: did Uldin want that to happen?”

“Why would he want that?”

“For the most obvious reason: to rid Rhune society of the dreaded virus.”

Cade frowned as he considered the idea. “You mean Uldin secretly knew that some of the surviving Rhunes carried the virus? Thus, he engineered their elimination?” Cade shook his head. “I don’t buy that. Uldin would want to leave Coad and the pocket universe as a conqueror, not sneak away like a frightened mouse. Besides, can Uldin start over in a new space-time continuum with so few Rhunes?”

“I don’t see why not,” Halifax said. “In essence, they turn people into magical cyborgs by stuffing them with special machines. All Uldin needs is the tiniest kernel. That could mean two or three Rhunes and the schematics to building such a convertor. Once he has such a machine, he could begin converting people into Rhunes.”

“That’s how cyborgs do it,” Cade said. “It seemed different with Rhunes, special surgeries and such.”

“Making a Rhune is likely more difficult than creating an ordinary cyborg. You might have a point about that. And I’d imagine utilizing the internal energies to levitate, fire rays from their fingers and use more of their brain takes a different kind of machine than ordinary cyborgs use. The very fact the Rhunes labored so hard and for so long, and created a virus in the meantime—”

“The Purple Nagan ka told me it caused the virus,” Cade said.

“Oh,” Halifax said. “That’s interesting. Still, it doesn’t change the main point. Could Uldin cause our space-time continuum real harm with say, four or five Rhunes? I think yes, but not in our remaining lifetimes.”

“Because it would take him time to start mass production of Rhunes?”

“Exactly,” Halifax said.

Cade nodded thoughtfully.

“So really,” Halifax said, “why should we care?”

Cade’s features hardened. “No. We stop Uldin from leaving this place.”

“At the price of killing ourselves?”

Cade thought about that. “I don’t know about that,” he said at last.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s straighten out our priorities here and now,” Halifax said. “Our survival is everything.”

“That’s mostly right.”

“No, not mostly—”

“Doctor,” Cade said, interrupting. “I don’t want to argue hypotheticals. We still have too much on our plate to worry about what might happen. Our first priority is to see if we can convince Tarvoke to leave us alone. He’s heading for Coad. We’re leaving. I don’t know how many Raptor missiles he has—”

“You think he’ll launch at us?” Halifax asked.

“We have to be prepared for the possibility. So far, so good. But the more separation we have from him, the better.”

“I agree with that,” Halifax said. “What I’m wondering is why won’t he launch once he has the secret stash.”

“I don’t know. I suppose we’re rolling the dice, depending on his character.”

“That’s bad odds, if you ask me.”

Cade snorted. “Dr. Halifax, we have the game we have. Wishing isn’t going to help us. So let’s lengthen whatever odds we do have. That means more acceleration while I continue to study his vessel, looking for some kind of weakness we can use.”

“Yeah,” Halifax said. “I hope to hell we can get some kind of advantage.”

“Right,” Cade said, with his face pressed against the scope. “I’m on it.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

The hours slipped away as the Descartes built velocity, speeding farther away from the lone star of the pocket universe. At the same time, the huge boxlike Cyprian neared Coad. Nearly four hours after the conversation with Tarvoke, the free trader rotated so its thrusters were aimed at the planet. It began its deceleration, slowing its velocity.

More time passed.

“This is maddening,” Halifax said from his spot at the piloting station. “I hate the waiting.”

Cade shrugged.

“The waiting doesn’t bother you?” Halifax asked.

“I didn’t say that. We can’t do anything about it, so why fret over it?”

“Because that’s how I’m wired,” Halifax snapped.

“Wrong. The hard wiring, as you put it, resides here.” The soldier tapped his forehead. “As a man thinks, so is he.”

“Yeah?” asked Halifax. “I think I’m a god.” He snapped his fingers and looked around in fake bewilderment. “Hey, guess what? My godlike powers didn’t work. We’re still in the pocket universe.”

“That’s because you don’t really believe you’re a god.”

“What?” Halifax shouted. “Are you kidding me?”

“Yes.”

“Because I’ll tell you—what?”

“I’m kidding you,” Cade said. “The saying works to a point. We’re still bound by reality. However, as a saying or proverb, it holds truth. I think of myself as a hunter. That means I have patience. That means I do not let the waiting bother me, as it’s part of the game. If you want to play the game, be in the hunt…you have to endure the waiting.”

“I don’t have to.”

“And our conversation has just turned boring,” Cade said. He put his face to the sensor scope and started studying the Cyprian again.

The free trader’s exhaust lengthened as the mighty ship slowed, and then slowed even more. Finally, the exhaust shrank. Soon, the Cyprian inched into Coad orbit, finally parking above the planet. From this distance and through the scope, Cade witnessed several shuttles leaving the free trader and beginning their descent down to the planet.

The minutes grew, becoming an hour, two and finally three. During that time, Cade pulled out a chess set and the doctor and he played two drawn-out games. Halifax won both in the end.

“You’re too predictable,” Halifax told Cade.

The soldier waved his hand, stood and began to pace.

“What’s wrong?” Halifax asked, as he put away the set.

“Nothing,” Cade said.

“You don’t like losing to me?”

“No. That’s not it.”

“Didn’t think I could beat you?”

“I did not,” Cade said.

“Well, that just goes to prove—”

“Shut up for a second,” Cade said, plopping down at the comm board. A full seven hours after the talk with Tarvoke, the green hailing light was blinking.

Cade took a breath and engaged the screen. It took a moment as it wavered and then the slightly sweaty face of Tarvoke appeared. The connection wasn’t as good as last time. Did that meant the captain was still on the planet?

“There’s going to be a slight delay between our transmissions,” Tarvoke said in an alerted voice. His sweaty features broke out into a huge grin. “Congratulations. The woman knew what she was talking about. We found the hidden base, a few oddities there along with schematics to an Intersplit engine. The last appears to be new information, which would indicate that Uldin had just learned about it. My chief engineer assures me that we can produce such an engine aboard the Cyprian.” The captain paused before he said, “I’ve debated with myself concerning you people. One part of me wants to launch a few Raptor missiles. Another part wonders if that might cause unneeded complications. The mobile base at Sarus might react to such launches. Thus, I’m disinclined to destroy you that way. Then—oh, hell, I’ve decided to let you live. If you can escape the pocket universe, you can escape. Once I’m ready with my own Intersplit, I’ll take my chances outside the system. What I mean is that I’ll enter a vortex and hope for the best.”

A sense of relief flooded through Cade, although he hid that from his features, merely nodding. “Good luck with your endeavors, Captain.”

Tarvoke stared at him, maybe waiting in case he said more. Finally, the captain stirred as he frowned. “I’m quite curious. How did the woman know about the secret cache?”

“Do you really want to know?” Cade asked.

Again, there was a delay, as the Descartes was farther from Coad than the Cyprian had been when they’d first communicated seven hours ago.

“That’s a stupid question,” Tarvoke said, “as I wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Look. I’ve heard rumors before about the creators of the pocket universe. They left artifacts behind, strange objects with personalities, if the rumors are true. Have any of your people been acting strangely lately?”

“In what way?” Cade asked.

“If you’re afraid to say, just tell me.”

“Captain, I’m happy to have pulled this off, at least so far, anyway. I’m more worried about the cyborg mobile base and your double at the edge of the system than any so-called artifacts with personalities.”

“There could be another problem you’re overlooking,” Tarvoke said.

“Oh?”

“I found the shell of a giant Rhune missile. The missile malfunctioned and went off course during the battle—or seemed to. The inside of the shell was empty, and it showed the markings of a launch.”

“Do you mean it might have launched a small stealth vessel from inside itself?” asked Cade.

Tarvoke’s eyes narrowed. “So you already know about it, huh?”

Cade nodded.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I’m not sure I was,” Cade said. “I think the stealth ship is lurking out there, and perhaps is going to trail us all the way to the vortexes.”

Tarvoke stared at him for several seconds. “Do you know why?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Not necessarily,” Cade said.

Tarvoke fingered his chin. “You must be worried I’ll launch some Raptor 5000s at you if I know what’s going on.”

“That could be it.”

Tarvoke smirked. “I guess you’ve figured out the real reason I’m not going to launch at your ship. Since your woman was correct about the secret base, I’m guessing she’s correct about the destruct codes. I’ve cleared the goods out of the base already, so I’m no longer concerned about that. It’s what she hasn’t told me yet that has me—I’m not worried. It has made me pause, though, and reconsider.”

“She’s not my woman,” Cade said stiffly.

It took several moments before Tarvoke laughed, and said, “Oh no, of course not. That doesn’t mean you can’t be screwing her to your heart’s content. Live today, for tomorrow you die.”

Cade opened his mouth to retort.

“Ease up a little, Cade,” Halifax hissed from the piloting board.

The soldier glanced at a worried-looking doctor before regarding Tarvoke. He forced a smile. “Your philosophy is too cheery for me, Captain.”

Tarvoke smiled, nodding. “We beat the Rhunes, Cade, or almost all of them, anyway. After all this time, it’s hard for the reality of my victory to soak in. I’m finally going to get to go home again. It’s a strange feeling.”

Cade wondered what was really keeping Tarvoke from launching at them.

“The mobile base shouldn’t threaten you if you take a few precautions,” Tarvoke said. “And I can send a message to my double that will convince him to leave you alone.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be at the system edge far ahead of any message you can send.”

“I don’t know about that,” Tarvoke said. “But I don’t need to send the message if you don’t want me to. Listen, Cade, I’ll give you some free advice. My double is a madman. Uldin formed him in a Rhune man-maker, which is—was—similar to an Eagle-Duke man-maker, but with a few oddities. I’m not going to go into details about that. The point is that my double has been living out there alone for far too long. I’m going to leave the star system from a different area from him. He’ll send missiles at me, of course. But I’ll have plenty of counter-rockets for that. I’m not sure you’ll have enough counters to ward off his attacks—if he decides to launch against you.”

Cade shrugged, although the knowledge made him uneasy. The Descartes had won past the madman before. Could it do it again? As the old saying went, “The proof is in the pudding.”

“Well,” Tarvoke said. “I suppose I’ll never see you again. So…good luck to you, Cade.”

“Thanks. I wish the same to you, Captain.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

A day passed and Cade began to feel as if Tarvoke really meant letting them go without a missile launch.

During that time, the Descartes built up velocity. Halifax had taken a wide detour from Sarus, trying to put as much separation between them as he could, and still leave the star system quickly. The scout hadn’t gone in the opposite direction from Sarus, as they had entered the star system on this side. But the ship was farther from the gas giant than when they’d first passed it.

Cade spent several hours at the sensor station, examining the gas giant and the mobile base when it swung around its orbital path. Particles trickled from the hull rupture. The soldier took his time, trying to guess the breach’s size. It was several kilometers wide, he finally decided. What could punch such a huge hole into the hull armor? A nuclear detonation could, of course, but it should have done even more damage than that. A large meteor would do the trick. Again, such a meteor strike should have done more damage to the mobile base as it smashed through.

“Anything new?” Halifax asked.

Cade looked up, stretching his back and shaking his head.

“The mobile base launched the first time,” the doctor said.

“I’m quite aware of that. It must have been our proximity to it the first time. But there’s nothing I can find that would have done the sensing. Maybe the sensors are still aboard the mobile base.”

“Lot of mysteries about this place,” Halifax said. “Speaking of, the more I think about it, the harder it is to believe in the Purple Nagan ka.”

“Why?”

Halifax shrugged moodily. “Too esoteric, I guess. How could a thing like a ka survive in a small globe of glass? Was it real?”

“Real?”

“Was the ka alive, I mean.”

“I killed it.”

“Kill would indicate the ka had been alive. Didn’t it say it wasn’t alive, though, in a strict sense?”

“You’re right. It did say that. It might have been a computer entity, I suppose.”

“Computers aren’t entities.”

“An AI personality, then, Doctor,” Cade said. “The Purple Nagans were quite real. They explain the creation of the pocket universe, why the various events happened a thousand years ago to the cyborgs, Rhunes and Federation people and the ka in the globe. That thing was real—I felt its presence. Besides, if there was no ka, what gave Velia her knowledge about the Nion?”

Halifax muttered under his breath while shaking his head.

“What’s really troubling you?” Cade asked.

“I don’t know. Well… Look. I’m a realist, a materialist.” Halifax rapped a console with his bony knuckles. “I believe in what I can see, feel and taste. The ka—I find its existence anomalous and upsetting. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we safely pass the mobile base or not?”

It took Cade a moment to switch mental gears. The doctor was antsy—because of the mobile base. “Maybe it’s time for silent running.”

“That will make our journey longer.”

“Yes,” Cade said. “But survival is well worth it.”

“All right, all right,” Halifax said. “I agree. Silent running it is.”

They waited several more hours to implement that as they sped outward. Then Cade and Halifax shut down nearly everything, including the fusion engine. The Descartes drifted silently through space. Unfortunately, the metal object still radiated more heat than the surrounding space; it didn’t radiate as much heat as before, though.

Without energy, the interior ship began to cool. The three of them dressed warmly as more heat dissipated. Too soon, Cade found himself shivering as the temperature continued to drop.

Later, a bundled Velia hurried into the command chamber. She wore scarfs around her face, a hood, parka, snow pants and boots. “T-This is t-too much, Marcus,” she said, shivering.

“It’s for just a little longer,” Cade said.

“I have hot coffee in a thermos,” Halifax said, raising a red container.

“T-That would be nice,” Velia said. She came near, accepting a steaming cup of coffee from the doctor, holding it with her gloved hands. She moved a scarf from her lips and snipped delicately before glancing at Cade. “Could I speak to you privately?” she asked.

“What about?” Cade asked.

She glanced at the doctor before regarding Cade, snipping from her coffee again.

“No,” Cade said.

“That’s not very gallant,” she said.

Cade didn’t respond.

“Aren’t you freezing?” she asked him archly.

Halifax stifled a guffaw.

Cade scowled at the doctor.

“Don’t mind me,” Halifax said.

Velia moved closer to Cade. “You should be nice to me. I saved the ship, didn’t I?”

The soldier did not respond.

“Can’t we at least be friends?” she asked.

Cade looked up at her. In the end, to be friends with Velia would mean betraying his wife. No. You can’t be friends. I made a vow, and I want to keep it, too. Be strong even if that means being cruel.

Velia moved closer yet, reaching out, touching one of his parka-clad arms.

Cade stood abruptly, gave her a nod and then stalked from the chamber. He’d learned a lesson from the other day. It was better cutting things off right away than letting it go one centimeter farther. That only made everything harder.

***

Halifax watched Velia watch Cade go.  “He’s not for sale,” the doctor told her.

Velia regarded him, her features hidden by the scarfs. “We’ll see about that,” she said.

“You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

“I get what I want.”

“I can believe that, but you don’t know the soldier.”

“Don’t I?” she asked. “Why did he run like that? I’ll tell you why: because he knows he wants me. If he was really indifferent, he could stick around and be nice.”

“That could be asking too much of a man,” Halifax said. “Is this arena, the wise man is the strong man. And the wise man knows when it’s time to retreat.”

“You sound as if you approve of what he’s doing.”

“I don’t know about that. I admire his fortitude. Clearly, he loves his wife.”

Velia stared through the hatch. “For now he does,” she said softly. “We’ll see about tomorrow.”

***

Heat continued to dissipate from the ship. An hour later, Cade called through the wall comm in his quarters. “You there, Doctor?”

“It’s just me,” Halifax said.

Cade returned to the command chamber. He was shivering even as he kept jumping up and down. “We have to have heat. We’ll freeze otherwise.” As he spoke, white mist jetted from his mouth.

“This is probably the worst time to turn on the fusion engine,” Halifax said, mist puffing from his blue lips.

“How much battery power do we have?”

“Right,” Halifax said. “It’s so damn cold my mind is shutting down.”

Cade used battery power, reengaging the heater. Ten minutes later, he removed his hood, gloves and soon took off his coat.

“Maybe you should check on Velia,” Halifax said.

“You do it,” Cade said.

Halifax left and returned a few minutes later, blushing.

Cade glanced at him. Don’t ask; just don’t ask.

“Man alive,” Halifax said.

Cade still said nothing.

“She was naked under her blankets,” Halifax blurted. “When the hatch opened, she whipped back the—”

“Enough!” Cade said.

Halifax stared at the soldier.

“The subject is dead to me,” Cade said.

“All right, all right,” Halifax said crossly. “It’s just that something like this doesn’t happen every day. It’s something a man wants to share.”

“Doctor, I’m warning you.”

“You’re such a puritan.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that. I have morals. Is that wrong?”

“Maybe not, but it’s boring,” Halifax said.

“I assure you. It isn’t boring for me. It’s a struggle…”

“Go on,” Halifax said.

Cade’s jaw muscles bulged. He snorted through his nose a moment later, going to the sensor scope, focusing on Sarus and the mobile base.

“Damn,” Cade said. “The base is on the other side of the gas giant. Doctor, let’s make a run for it. Full acceleration while we can.”

“Good idea,” Halifax said.

Fifteen minutes later, the engine was back online and thrusting, giving the scout more velocity.

“I should have already thought of this,” Cade said.

“Maybe you had something else on your mind,” Halifax said.

Cade scowled at the doctor before he threw his head back and laughed, not roaring laughter, but light chuckling. He shook his head afterward. “She’s easy on the eyes. I know it. But I’m going to win this one. You know, the fact I’m fighting it so hard proves to me I love my wife dearly. It’s like floating in a stream. Most people just go with the current. The one who is resisting is trying to swim upstream. At times, it doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere, but he’s fighting the good fight.”

“Why not float downstream?” Halifax asked. “It’s easier.”

“Of course it’s easier. But is it moral? I want to be moral.”

“Why?”

Cade nodded. “Each man—each person—must decide that for himself. I can’t answer for you. I can only answer for me. Anyway, I don’t want to sound like a prig. It’s time to concentrate. It’s time for us to make it well past the mobile base.”

Two hours and ten minutes later, Cade spotted the mobile base drifting in orbit around the gas giant. “Now,” he said. “Shut off the thrusters and power down to minimum.”

Halifax manipulated his board, staring in earnest at the pilot screen.

Cade watched through the sensor scope.

A few tense minutes later, Halifax said, “I don’t see any missiles accelerating.”

“Me neither,” Cade said quietly.

The Descartes continued to move by velocity alone.

“I don’t want to freeze again,” Halifax said sometime later.

“We’re not powering down all the way again. This is it, win or lose.”

“My fingers are crossed.”

Cade looked up.

Halifax raised his crossed fingers.

With a smile, the soldier said, “Let’s hope that works.”

It must have, because the mobile base eventually swung back behind the gas giant. At that point, they accelerated once again and turned power back to normal. It proved to be the last time they had to run silently or without accelerating for the mobile base’s sake.

Finally, eight and three-quarters of an hour later, the Descartes reached enough distance from the star so they could turn on the Intersplit and travel at FTL speeds.

“Now we find out the truth,” Halifax said. “I hope the Rhune repair nanites worked like advertised.” He spoke again under his breath too low for Cade to hear the words, crossed his fingers, shaking them, before he engaged the Intersplit.

One second ticked away, two, three—

Cade heaved a sigh of relief as a green haze surrounded the scout. They moved at FTL speeds, heading away from the star for the system’s Kuiper Belt and Oort cloud beyond.

The soldier went to the sensor scope, searching for another green haze somewhere behind them. Uldin’s tiny stealth ship had to have an Intersplit engine, right? If it didn’t, it wouldn’t be a threat to them or to their space-time continuum. Even if the stealth ship reached their Vellani Rift, it wouldn’t leave it in Uldin’s lifetime—if he lacked an Intersplit engine. Cade searched for hours, finding no green haze behind, beside or before them.

There was no way to cloak Intersplit travel, right? He finally asked Halifax about that.

“No way,” the doctor said. “To move faster than light, the stealth ship has to show itself.”

***

The moment finally arrived when the edge of the star system spread out before them. It was a continuous dark gray mass, the literal boundary to the pocket universe and a different color than the space around them.

Velia wasn’t here to see it. She was in her quarters, while Cade and Halifax were in the piloting chamber, staring through the polarized window.

The doctor turned to Cade. “Leaving the star system should be easy, right?”

“I hope so,” the soldier said. “Why, what do you suspect will happen? And why haven’t you said anything about it before this?”

Halifax shrugged moodily as he went to the piloting board, sat down and stared at his instruments. Looking up, he said, “There was nothing we could do to prepare. So why worry then, eh?”

“But—”

“We’re going to hit the barrier soon. Maybe you should strap in.”

“Yes,” Cade said. He headed for the sensors before he stopped short. He went to the comm board and clicked a switch. “Better strap in, Velia. This could get…ugly.”

There was no reply.

Cade glanced at Halifax. The doctor raised his eyebrows. Cade stared at the polarized window. The dark gray seemed closer than before. Cade jumped up, sat at sensors and strapped in.

Halifax hunched over the pilot board. “We’re going to hit in three, two, one—impact!”

The Descartes plunged into the gray barrier, and it seemed as if time ceased. The soldier felt that in himself, and he tried to speak. His mouth opened so very slowly, and his words sounded slow and garbled. He tried to look at Halifax—it seemed as if his head turned forever and that his eyeballs dragged in their sockets. That went on and on, time stretching—

Abruptly, the scout exited the barrier on the other side into the strange gray region without stars that surrounded the pocket universe.

Cade slumped at sensors, exhausted.

The doctor groaned, fainting from his pilot seat to strike the deck in a crumpled heap.

Cade jumped up, and weakness spread through him. He swayed, realizing that it felt as if his gut were glued to his spine. Hunger and thirst tormented him, and he found it difficult to keep his eyes open. He dropped to his hand and knees and crawled to the hatch. He went like that to his quarters, his eyesight blackening at times. He rested each time until his eyesight returned. Finally, he reached his quarters and found food and drink. He ate and drank slowly, and just as slowly felt strength returning.

Leaving the star system—

For how long had they traveled through the barrier? Cade shook his head. First things first. He needed to get food and drink to Halifax and Velia. They could hash things out after each revived.

Clearly, there could be surprises left for them. For instance, they needed to get ready for the Tarvoke double lurking in this region.

Cade picked up food and drink, heading out the hatch. As he hurried down the corridor, it occurred to him that Magister Uldin might understand the properties of the barrier. Might the Rhune have waited in his stealth ship to engage his Intersplit, waited until the Descartes entered the barrier?

“Damn,” Cade whispered. The endgame with the Rhune Magister was fast approaching.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The gray non-Einsteinian region spread out before them while the barrier to the pocket universe spread out behind. The gray barrier was lighter in color than the surrounding region. Cade and Halifax agreed it was due to the starlight shining through it.

The two men remained at their stations. Velia did not make an appearance yet.

Cade searched the barrier for anything that might suggest the Tarvoke double. He could find nothing unusual in the barrier or any hidden base in the darker gray region.

Halifax piloted, asking after a time, “Should we try to contact the double?”

“What?” asked Cade. “On no account. If we can slip away, all the better.”

“He might think we’re trying to slip away and that could goad him into action.”

“He’s a madman,” Cade said.

“That’s just something Tarvoke told us. What does it mean, though? How does the madness assert itself?”

“What’s your point?”

Halifax’s lips twisted. “I’m not sure I have one. Could the Rhunes have controlled the double?”

“Seems likely,” Cade said.

“Ah. Then maybe the double will leave us alone.”

Cade looked up.

“Uldin needs us to pick the right vortex to the correct space-time continuum,” Halifax said. “That might mean he plans to follow us through the vortex.”

“Yes,” Cade said. “That’s sound reasoning. I quite agree.”

“So should we assume the double will not…try to destroy us?”

“What difference does what we assume make?”

“Huh?” the doctor asked. “Oh. I see what you’re saying. Well, maybe we should be figuring out this region. How did it come to exist? What does it represent?”

“I don’t follow you,” Cade said.

Halifax sniffed importantly. “This is my area of expertise, brain work. Look, Cade, what is this place? How could the vortex have…I don’t know—shifted us here?”

“Uh…”

Halifax snapped his fingers. “Maybe the vortexes phase in and out from their space-time continuums to this place. Maybe the Vellani Rift is a weak region of our existence. The walls, barriers—whatever—between one space-time continuum and another is weaker in the rift or more easily accessible. That would mean this region is the stuff between space-time continuums.”

“What kind of stuff?” Cade asked.

“What we’re seeing, of course,” the doctor said. “It’s different from normal space-time universes, or from the two we know.”

“You’re talking about the pocket universe and ours?” Cade asked.

“Precisely,” Halifax said.

“Okay. Your points make sense. How does that help us?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to figure out this place and the vortexes. What do you think of my theory?”

Cade shrugged.

“No, no, can you poke holes in it?” Halifax asked.

“Does it matter one way or another?”

“Oh, I see,” Halifax said. “When it’s brain work, you don’t think it’s important. Just soldier work is important, huh?”

Cade stared at the little man.

“Maybe I’ll go ask Velia what she thinks,” Halifax said with a sniff.

“Maybe you should,” Cade said. “She might have picked something up from the Rhunes or maybe her society had open theories about the pocket universe and how they all got there.”

“Sure,” Halifax said, standing. “I think I will. What are you going to do?”

“Keep looking for a stealth ship,” Cade said, “and hold down the fort in case the Tarvoke double makes a move.”

Halifax departed as he muttered under his breath.

Cade continued searching with the scope, but found nothing new of interest.

An hour later, Halifax returned.

“What did she say?” Cade asked.

“That she has no idea.”

“That took an hour?”

“No. I ate some lunch and took a short nap in my room. Why, what’s wrong?”

Cade shook his head. Soon, though, he exited the chamber, heading to the gym.

A day passed, then two. Cade spent most of his time at the sensor scope, lifting in the gym or sleeping and reading in his quarters. Halifax spent most of his time at piloting, sleeping and going to talk to Velia. She seldom left her quarters. Cade didn’t ask Halifax about it, and the doctor did not elaborate on the subject.

Perhaps the greatest surprise was that the Tarvoke double never contacted them and certainly made no known attempt to launch missiles after them. That would imply Halifax’s theory had been the correct one: the Rhunes controlled the double, and if the stealth ship existed, its passengers wanted the Descartes whole and running.

The duty rotations were such that Cade and Halifax found themselves together in the piloting chamber again.

Cade had his face glued to the sensor scope, and it had been for hours, maybe even days. The soldier suddenly sat back with an oath. “I can’t find him. I just can’t find one piece of evidence there’s a stealth ship following us. If Uldin is out here with us, I flat don’t know where he is.”

The pocket universe had become a mere gray dot again. It was a surreal feeling to see it like that.

“We’ve batted it about before,” Halifax said. “But I’m going to ask again. Are you sure Uldin’s stealth ship really exists?”

Cade frowned as he considered the question. “Theoretically, I’d say yes, it exists. Why have a dud warhead otherwise? Why the empty shell? Practically, I don’t know anymore. I think I saw a wavering area in space when we were leaving Coad.”

“I believe you did,” Halifax said.

Cade turned to him sharply.

“That doesn’t mean you saw a stealth ship. Cade, a hot battle was taking place then. There was radiation and EMPs spewing everywhere. The instruments must have gone haywire for a time. That’s what you saw.”

“I might agree with you, but Tarvoke found the empty shell. It always goes back to the empty shell. There was a reason it was empty.”

“Maybe,” Halifax said. “Maybe we just haven’t figured out the reason and likely never will. The point is that we haven’t seen any new evidence since the battle. Besides, we’re taking too much on ourselves. If it’s just Uldin and a few others, who cares? I know we talked about this before, but the Rhunes won’t affect us, affect anyone until you and I are long dead. That’s assuming several Rhunes make it to our universe.”

“No,” Cade said, flatly, his face hardening. “I dedicated my life to fighting cyborgs. Rhunes are upgraded cyborgs. I’m not going to be responsible for letting any type of cyborg into our universe if I can help it.”

“That sounds good,” Halifax said. “So tell me. How can you stop what you can’t see or might not exist?”

“I don’t know,” Cade admitted. “There is a stealth ship, though. I can feel it out there, following us. Uldin is waiting to make his move. That’s all.” The soldier pointed at Halifax. “I’ll tell you another thing, too. I’m going to figure out how to thwart him.”

Cade spent the next three and a half hours doing just that, finally giving up and going to the small gym. There, he loaded up a bar and did deadlifts, exalting in the explosive, muscle-draining lifts, enjoying hearing the weights clank against the rubber mat when he released the bar. He sat on a bench at the end of his bout, hunched over and breathing hard. He stared at nothing, his muscles quivering.

How could he defeat Uldin? The Rhune had a masterful stealth ship. They had been traveling with silent running for a time, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the Magister’s vessel was already trailing them, a ghost blip—

Cade straightened. “Of course,” he whispered. The answer was obvious. He wasn’t going to find Uldin’s stealth ship. How did one defeat a genius? Sometimes, the best way was to turn their power against them. That meant letting the genius think he’d won, when in reality—

Cade stood as he chuckled. He had the answer. Now, it was a matter of implementing it.

But he’d have to do it perfectly.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Magister Uldin sat on a reclining seat with a metal headband around his cranium. The chamber was tiny, barely able to hold the seat. There were no screens, no controls before him or on the bulkheads. It was a white room, stark and simplistic and the control center for the wonderful stealth ship.

Uldin was the only Rhune awake on the vessel. The other five were in stasis cells, their bodily functions almost completely stopped. He would wake them once they reached the promised space-time continuum.

Uldin’s narrow chest rose and fell easily. He had few qualms despite the abrupt destruction of the Jinse Tao several days ago. That had been a disaster, in other people’s terminology. Uldin had never planned for that to happen. It would make his dreams more difficult to achieve. He had, however, considered it a possibility, a twenty-three point six nine percent possibility, an almost one in four chance. That was much too high for tolerance. The stealth ship hidden in the missile had been the answer. The stealth ship had an eighty-seven point three two percent probability of success. He had taken it, as he had suspected the presence of a Purple Nagan ka. There had been too many anomalies throughout the years for mere chance to play the main part. The most reasonable explanation had been the alien ka.

Uldin’s chest continued to rise and fall easily. He’d expunged emotions long ago. Pure reason guided his actions.

Here in the control cell he managed all the ship functions. He did it through thought. The neuron impulses in his mind translated through the metal band and to the vessel.

The stealth ship was an experimental craft, one of a kind, partly based on Purple Nagan technology. The latest addition was the Intersplit engine.

Uldin smiled softly, indulgently.

He had observed the Descartes using silent running to pass the gas giant and the cyborg mobile base. Through the ship’s delicate sensors, he had seen the automated cyborg D-waves searching the ether for an enemy to slay. The Descartes had barely slid under the D-waves. A few more percentage points would have seen one and possibly two Raptor 5000 missiles launched at the craft.

That the missiles hadn’t launched had been a welcome relief. If the Raptors had launched—

“No,” Uldin said softly. He was not going to worry about might-have-beens. Logically, that was a waste of brainpower.

After leaving the general area of Sarus, the Descartes had engaged the Intersplit, zooming away for the distant barrier.

At no point during that time had Uldin engaged the stealth ship’s Intersplit. He had done that only when the scout entered the barrier.

Uldin allowed his chest to rise and fall, rise and fall as he considered the next and final step of the operation. He used clever tactics to close the gap between their vessels. Now, he was like an apparition on the Descartes’ tail. There was a thirty-six percent probability that Cade knew about the stealth ship. There was an eleven point six percent probability that Cade knew the ship’s whereabouts.

So far, Uldin hadn’t detected such a thing from the scout’s actions. He could, of course, easily destroy the Descartes. He had several Purple Nagan-designed missiles. One would suffice. He would launch it in the Vellani Rift of the old space-time continuum. First, Cade and his makeshift crew needed to show him the correct vortex.

“You did not fool me,” Uldin whispered. He meant the Purple Nagan ka that had finally shown itself at the end. The sole reason he hadn’t tried harder to flush it out during the years was for this purpose. The ka would know how to choose the correct vortex.

It was even possible the Nagan ka yet existed—a thirty-nine point six percent possibility.

In the limited time he had known Marcus Cade, Uldin had studied the super-soldier from the Old Federation. The man had impressed him; he possessed fantastic powers of determination and raw stubborn fighting prowess. Could the ka have suborned Marcus Cade? Perhaps there had been a twenty-five to thirty-six percent possibility. The more likely outcome was otherwise.

The key point was the Descartes’ inability to spot the stealth ship. The Nagan ka would have known how. That implied the ka was gone, destroyed most likely.

Uldin opened his eyes, automatically cutting the mental connection with the headband. He no longer saw through the ship’s sensors, but through his natural optical nerves.

With his longer narrow fingers, Uldin removed the headband. He grunted softly as he swung his feet off the couch. He stood, swaying, regaining his balance and the motor control of his body’s muscles.

A hatch opened. He walked down a claustrophobically narrow corridor. He brushed his shoulders against both sides. Only a Rhune could have traversed such a passage. Others would gag and tremble, the squeezing narrowness too much for their fragile egos.

Another hatch opened and he entered a privy. Even Rhunes needed to relieve themselves.

Several minutes later, he exited the privy. Stimulating his muscles by walking was good for the body. That meant it was good for him. Sound body, sound mind. He traversed the exceptionally narrow corridors, traveling throughout the stealth ship. He did it for twenty minutes. Only then did he go to the cell-like gallery. He squeezed paste from a tube, swallowing, squeezing more paste. He sipped from a bulb of liquid concentrates. He ate and drank a precise amount, enough to fuel his machine, his bio-body, but not enough to add unneeded fat to his cells. That would be inefficient, wasteful.

Finally, Magister Uldin returned to the piloting cell. He lay on the long couch, settling himself into place. Then he took the headband and slid it over his cranium. He closed his eyes—

A panorama burst upon his consciousness. He saw in a 360-degree view, the gray realm of this null region. The lighter pocket universe was behind the stealth ship. The vortexes were ahead. Closer to him was the Descartes. It was slightly larger than the stealth ship, had greater room within it, but it did not possess the wondrous technology of Uldin’s vessel.

With a thought, the Magister nudged the stealth ship closer to the scout. What would the super-soldier do if he knew an apparition was following?

Uldin gave the thought his full attention. He worked through possibilities and the counters. Yes, he could do that. Yes, such a move would be correct.

His chest rose and fell easily. The soldier would likely attempt something. It would fail, miserably so. Then, Uldin would be in the new/old space-time continuum. The great program would proceed. It was just a matter of time now for the new race to begin supplanting the old, stupid, grunting, shuffling Homo sapiens.

“Your time is over,” Uldin whispered. “And you’re the one who is going to make it happen, Cade.”

The slightest of smiles appeared. The emotion Uldin felt was that of a superior intellect outthinking his foe. It was not an emotion per se, but the culmination of great brainpower, the satisfaction of thoughts well executed. It was enough for the Magister as he anticipated everything Cade could possibly attempt.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The two men were in the command cabin, Halifax at piloting and Cade at sensors. They had left the pocket universe far behind and neared a different region. It was darker than the gray realm and seethed with continuous but nearly hidden motion.

Cade studied the realm through the sensor scope. If he used zoom and—there, he spied a funnel-shaped object. It swirled madly like a whirlwind in space, and it faded from view even as he observed its action. Another appeared, swirling madly as it fled from the approaching Descartes.

“You’re right,” Cade said while straightening. “How did this realm ever come to be? It’s…eerie and strange.”

“Perhaps the forces from the rips or weakening of various space-time continuums—various existences, if you will—create the energies that cause the vortexes to form.”

“Makes sense to me,” Cade said.

The doctor gave him a worried glance. “Any luck spying a stealth ship?”

“I’ll keep trying,” Cade said in lieu of a direct answer. He put his face to the scope, turning the direction of his search, but like all the other times, he saw no evidence of a Rhune stealth ship.

Time passed as the scout sped toward its destiny. Finally, the Descartes reached the outer vicinity of the vortexes. They hadn’t been able to discover the region’s depth or even if it had one. There were background energies, at times creating purple ion lightning. Did that substantiate the doctor’s theory of released energies from other universes? Cade was beginning to think so.

The Descartes did not run silently, but with all sensors radiating outward, searching for the correct space-time distortion. The Nion XT Navigator was plugged into the sensors, using its unique program to test each of the swirling funnels. So far, the Nion had rejected 173 possibilities. Were there thousands of vortexes, millions or billions? The more there were, the less chance they would find the right one anytime soon.

This could take hours, days, maybe weeks, but if it took months—they could not last for months out here. They would have to return to the pocket universe well before that.

“I’ve been thinking about how to stop Uldin, if he’s following us,” Halifax said. “We could use a thermonuclear warhead, leave it behind us and remote-detonate it. Boom—end of the trailing stealth ship we suspect is following us. We’d have to believe he’s close but detonate it far enough away from us so we’d survive.”

“No,” Cade said. “We’ll defeat him by letting him win; only, he loses instead. That’s the safest course.”

“The trouble is that with your idea is that Uldin survives. That doesn’t sound good to me.”

“You’ve changed your thinking then,” Cade said. “The key is that he won’t survive in our space-time continuum.”

“That means we give someone else our problem.”

Cade scowled. “Why would you possibly care about that?”

“Well…I don’t really. I figured that might move you, though. The truth is that given enough time, Uldin might come after us again. I want to make sure he never can.”

Cade looked up at the ceiling. He wasn’t completely happy with his idea. Uldin—Rhunes in general—were brilliant. If anyone could survive this to haunt their space-time continuum—

No! This is the best we can do. And it means I can keep hunting for Raina.

Cade exhaled forcefully. “Doctor, I can’t possibly be responsible for all existence. That would be taking too much on myself. You said so before.”

“This will be tricky,” Halifax said, with sweat beading his upper lip.

Cade noticed the perspiration. The moment of truth was fast approaching. His gut stirred. For all the marbles, the soldier told himself. We can do this.

Cade cleared his throat. “Remember this, Doctor. We’re the best.”

“Speak for yourself,” Halifax muttered. “Hey! The Nion’s light is blinking red. Is that good or bad?”

Cade glanced at the Nion. It was testing another vortex. The red light continued to blink. “Velia,” he said into the intercom. “Could you come and check the Nion please?”

“I didn’t know you still talked to her,” Halifax said.

“Don’t start with me,” Cade said. “And not now, for Pete’s sake. We have one chance. Concentrate and get your part right.”

Velia entered the piloting chamber short of breath. Had she run through the corridor to get here? She wore her space garb with her hair up.

“What’s the Nion saying about that vortex?” Cade asked her.

“You could have checked the nav yourself,” she said. “You don’t really need me for that.”

“Your expertise in this area is greater than mine,” Cade said. “This is it. This could be the moment. I have to prepare if we’re going in.”

Velia hurried to the Nion, pulling out the main board.

Cade turned away sharply because he found himself watching the sway of her hips. What’s wrong with me? I love Raina, not Velia.

Velia studied the readings. “No good,” she said. “The vortex is off by several percentage points.”

“What does that mean?” shouted Halifax.

“I don’t understand your question,” Velia said.

Halifax wiped sweat from his upper lip. “Can you tell what kind of space-time continuum the vortex leads to?”

“Oh,” she said. “Yes. I see. That one isn’t ours. But—the one over there is!” she shouted with glee. “That’s what the Nion was trying to tell you. It’s found the right portal and warning you away from the wrong one.”

“This is it then,” Cade shouted, as he peered into the scope. “What the hell? I can see a wavering in space behind us. The stealth ship exists and it’s right behind us. No! The wavering vanished. Does Uldin know we’ve found the right vortex?” Cade growled as he ground his teeth together. “Start the run, Doctor. Head toward the first vortex. We’re going for it.”

“What’s going on?” Velia shouted in alarm. “I said the second vortex is the right one. The first one is the wrong one.”

“Exactly,” Cade said. “Now, strap in. This could get rough.”

Velia jumped away from the Nion and plopped into the open seat beside Cade. She buckled in and swiveled around to watch him.

“Hang on,” Halifax said, his thin fingers tapping the piloting board. He aimed the Descartes, straight for the first vortex, increasing speed.

“Don’t you understand me?” Velia shouted. “It’s the wrong vortex. It won’t take us where you want to go.”

“We know that,” Cade said, with his hands poised over a panel. “That’s the whole point. Now, shut up and let us do this.”

The vortex grew before them, a swirling madness, the chaos impinging onto their eyeballs. The scout began to shake as it entered the funnel’s slipstream.

“Closer,” Cade said.

“We might get caught in it so we can’t escape,” Halifax warned.

“A risk we have to take to make this work,” Cade said.

Halifax gulped and brought the scout closer yet. The slipstream grew stronger as the vortex caught the ship, dragging it in toward the seething center.

“Now!” Cade shouted, as his fingers manipulated his panel.

Two conventional bombs left the ship, ejected behind them. Seconds passed. Each bomb detonated. Halifax used the explosions as if they were smoke screens. The scout swerved sharply as the doctor applied thrust away from the vortex center.

Cade tapped his board once more. A decoy-emitter ejected from the Descartes, following the same backward path as the two bombs. The emitter burst into electronic life, broadcasting the scout’s dimensions, projecting itself as the Descartes. The scout shook harder as Halifax applied even more thrust as the ship attempted to leave the vortex’s grip. Behind them, the decoy-emitter was caught in the slipstream, dragged deeper toward the swirling center.

The shaking in the piloting chamber worsened. Halifax dared to give the ship maximum thrust. Cade’s body shook horribly. Then, the scout jumped away as the vortex shifted in a different direction.

Cade looked through the scope and saw the wavering again. The lines thickened, and then an oval ship appeared. “I see it!” he shouted. “It’s entering the vortex, following the decoy-emitter.”

The oval disappeared from view, leaving the non-Einsteinian gray realm and heading through the vortex to a space-time continuum, one different from what the Descartes had originally left.

Halifax swiveled around. “You saw it? You actually saw Uldin’s stealth ship?”

“Yes,” Cade said, smiling so widely that his cheeks hurt. “It had to be Uldin’s ship. Now, he’s gone, and I doubt he’s ever coming back to use the right vortex. But to make sure, let’s head into ours and get the hell out of here as fast as we can.”

“Hurrah!” Velia shouted, unbuckling from her seat.

Cade swiveled toward her. She jumped onto his lap, grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him fiercely on the lips. She made a smack, took a breath and tried to lunge in for a second one.

“No,” Cade said gently, holding her back. Raina, I love you, but this is difficult.

Velia stared into his eyes. “I can make you love me,” she said in a husky voice. “Just give in once, and you’ll never regret it.”

The soldier took a deep breath, very aware of her sitting in his lap, and used his strength to help her stand. Then, he unbuckled and stood, too.

I will regret it, maybe for the rest of my life. This is the moment to end everything.

He stared at Velia, and he turned to Halifax. “Let’s do this,” he said hoarsely. “Let’s do it in case Uldin is able to return here.”

***

The Rhune stealth ship ejected from the vortex into a vast dark rift in a space-time continuum. The vortex swirled, shifted direction and faded away, leaving the tiny craft in the new universe.

Magister Uldin lay on the couch. He lay unmoving with his eyes closed.

Did the soldier trick me? Why don’t I see his scout?

With the headband around his cranium, Uldin searched for the Descartes with the ship’s sensors. He did not find it. He did not find anything else, either. Before he panicked, he went over the stealth ship’s logs, the last seconds before entering the vortex. He slowed the video and watched each moment with deliberation. Ah. Those were bombs. And that’s an emitter. The soldier employed deception. The soldier had tricked him.

Uldin meditated upon that without seething or panicking. How would emotions help him? They would not. He must use clear reason instead. He had reached a space-time continuum. According to his instruments, this one was different from the universe his ancestors had fled. How it was different in every particular? He did not know all the ramifications yet. The question was: what was the correct course of action?

He lay there thinking for nearly an hour. At the end of the time, he decided to engage the Intersplit engine and explore nearby space. Maybe he could make this work…the test would be in trying.

The soldier—

Uldin put Marcus Cade out of his mind. If he could, he had a universe to conquer. First, he needed to find a planet to take the first step.

Chapter Forty

Two days after exiting the vortex, the Descartes sped out of the Vellani Rift, leaving the dark nebula behind.

The Nion XT Navigator made new calculations now that the ship’s sensors could see the stars again. In moments, the nav instructed Halifax to make a course correction.

The doctor’s finger flew over the helm controls, and the scout adjusted.

Cade entered, as Halifax had summoned him to the command chamber. The soldier noticed the stars moving—it was the scout moving, with the green Intersplit Field surrounding the vessel.

“You told me before, once we left the rift, to head to the nearest inhabited Concord planet,” Halifax said. “Do you still want that?”

Cade nodded.

“We’re heading for Amklana in the Rosil System.”

“How far is it from Earth?”

“Let me see,” Halifax said. “Ah. Six hundred and ninety-five light-years.”

The soldier let that sink in. “What a waste. What a damn waste. That’s almost the same distance as from the Sestos System. We’ve been twiddling our thumbs all this time.”

“The Nion hijacked us,” Halifax said. “That’s the best way to think about it.”

Cade scowled. “We can’t allow something like that to happen again, not ever.”

“Sure, but that could be easier said than done.”

Cade put his hands behind his back, counting to ten as he studied the star field. It doesn’t matter, not anymore. We’re out of it. We’re on our way again. That’s what counts. He nodded. It was a blessed relief seeing normal space, their space, the stars. The idea of leaving their space-time continuum—he shuddered. They were unbelievably lucky to have made it back. What a nightmare. He brought his hands forward and thrust his right hand straight ahead of him.

“What are you doing?” Halifax asked.

“Straight to the target,” Cade answered. “A straight shot to Earth—that’s the goal from now on.”

“Right,” Halifax said. “You gonna dump Velia on Amklana? Is that why we’re going there?”

“Not dump.”

“Does leaving her all alone sound nicer to you?”

Cade frowned at Halifax. “What would you have me do? She can’t stay on the ship.”

“Isn’t it cruel to just dump her on a planet she doesn’t know? She’s never been in this space-time continuum.”

“It isn’t as if she can’t speak the language,” Cade said. “She was a spy most of her life. She’ll fit in.”

“She might be terrified about the prospect. How are you going to break it to her, anyway?”

“Let me take of care of that.”

“I am. I’m just curious.”

Cade turned around, heading for the exit. He felt bad about his plan. But what else could he do? If Velia stayed— “No,” he whispered. She was not staying. It was time to make his life easier.

***

Two days after exiting the Vellani Rift, the Descartes dropped out of FTL travel. They were in the Rosil System’s Kuiper Belt, heading toward the third terrestrial planet, Amklana.

Cade was in his quarters, pacing, his palms sweaty. Velia surely knew that she had to leave the ship for good. But he hadn’t spelled it out to her yet. He didn’t want to see her cry. Even worse, he didn’t want to have to resist her throwing herself at him. Why did he feel so bad then?

Damnit, I have to do this. I know it’s the right thing. Raina, give me strength, darling.

Had he become attached to Velia? Was that the problem? She had helped save the ship.

“We’re docking,” the doctor said over the intercom.

Cade nodded and his gut seethed. There was a right way to do this and a wrong way. What if Velia refused to leave the ship? Was he going to pick her up and throw her out of the hatch?

I don’t want a scene.

Cade stopped pacing and made a face. What kind of soldier was he that he was finding this so difficult? “Bah,” he said. He opened a drawer and grabbed the wad of credit notes, stuffing them in his jacket. “Just do it, man. Get it over with.”

The floor shook and there was an outer clang.

“We’re docked,” Halifax said over the intercom.

Cade inhaled, steeled himself and exited his quarters. He felt like a heel. His face actually felt hot. He knocked on Velia’s hatch.

“Enter,” she said.

The hatch slid open and Cade regarded her. She sat cross-legged on her bed, playing solitaire.

“Do you want to shop for some new clothes?” he asked.

Velia cocked her head while looking at him. “Are you serious?”

He nodded.

She cocked her head the other way. “What’s wrong? What is this about?”

“This is the main Amklana space station,” he said. “They’ll have a lobby here with stores.”

“Really?” Velia asked, sounding excited.

Cade nodded again, his gut tightening into a knot.

Velia frowned, studying him, and finally shrugged. “Let me put something better on.”

“Maybe pack a case,” Cade said. “We can stay in a hotel; get a break from the ship.”

“Now you have me worried. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” he lied, surprised his voice was so steady.

“Okay. You can wait in here while I change.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

She began unbuttoning her blouse.

Cade hurried out, tugging at his collar as the hatch shut behind him. This was why he was doing it this way. She would never stop tempting him. This was a lousy way to do it, but sometimes getting it done, no matter how, was more important than doing it right.

Soon, the two of them exited the ship, walking silently through the docking area. Soon, they entered the space station’s outer main corridors.

“Say, where’s your case?” Velia asked.

Cade didn’t answer, but pointed ahead.

They walked together, and after several turns, she put an arm through one of his. He allowed it, because it seemed as if he’d lost all his strength. As they walked, he opened his mouth several times to tell her the truth. He just couldn’t do it.

Finally, they reached the spacious general lobby, a huge area with over thirty storefronts visible. Hundreds of people milled around, some entering shops, others leaving. There were another thirty kiosks in the middle area.

“This is fabulous,” Velia said, her eyes wide. “Look at the clothes shops. Let’s go there first.”

Cade halted, and he removed his arm from hers. His mouth was dry, and he hated the feeling. This was wrong…in one way, and completely correct in another.

“Velia,” he said hoarsely.

She turned to him, smiling, and as she stared at him, the smile faded. She set the case at her feet and her shoulders slumped.

“This is it,” he managed to say.

Her eyes became moist. “You mean you’re just kicking me off your ship?”

“No…”

Her eyebrows arched.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“But…Cade, what am I supposed to do here all alone?”

“L-Look,” he stammered. He pulled the wad of Concord Universal Credit Notes from a jacket pocket. He peeled several notes off, stuffing them in a pants pocket. He handed the rest to her.

Velia stared at the notes, finally looking up at him. “I don’t want to stay here. I want to come with you.”

“I know, I know, but you can’t.”

“Don’t you see?” she whispered. “I’m all alone. I don’t want to be alone, Marcus. I want to be with you. Your wife is dead—”

“No!” he said, his voice hardening. “She’s alive. But, look, this is a new start. You’ll obviously go far, Velia. I know you will.”

“Marcus,” she said in earnest. “Listen to me—”

He grabbed her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “I love my wife. I have to find her. That’s never going to change. You—it will be okay. There are no Rhunes or cyborgs here. You have plenty of cash, and you’re sharp and smart. You can start over. Believe me, if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

A tear spilled from an eye and slid down her face.

Cade couldn’t take any more, so he released her and spun around, hurrying away. She called to him. He put his head down and ran. He felt awful, like a heel, a turncoat—

No! This is the right thing.

He reached the docking part of the station, and to his amazement, the knot in his gut had disappeared. He had done the right thing, if not in the correct manner. Raina, darling, I’m coming for you, I promise. Nothing is going to keep me from you.

Fifteen minutes later, he reentered the Descartes, going to the piloting chamber.

Halifax looked up from the piloting board. “Back so soon? I’m just about to head to the concourse and—”

“No,” Cade said, flatly. “We’re pulling out, leaving the space station.”

“What? Are you kidding me? We just got here.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does. Wait a minute. Did you just dump Velia?”

“We’re going,” Cade said stubbornly.

“Well, no we’re not. We still need to refuel.”

“We’ll do that next stop. We’re leaving the station. Now.”

“Why the sudden rush?” Halifax asked. “Is Velia’s gone.”

“Yes!”

“Damn, you did it. I can’t believe it. What did she do when—?”

“Doctor,” Cade warned.

Halifax threw up his hands. “Sure, sure, whatever you say. Let’s go. Let’s rush. Don’t listen to me. What do I know?” He made a call to the docking authorities and began preparing. “By the way, Cade, how much money do we have left?”

“After the docking fees, a few hundred credits,” Cade muttered.

Halifax’s head snapped up. “What the hell? What happened to our money?”

Cade hesitated to say, embarrassed by what he’d done.

“Don’t tell me you gave all our money to Velia.”

“No, of course not,” Cade said.

“That’s a relief. What then?”

Cade looked away, and he managed to say, “I gave most of our money to Velia, but not all.”

The doctor said nothing.

Cade finally turned to him.

The doctor stared at him in disbelief.

“Listen,” Cade said.

“Don’t bother. I get it. You’re a soft touch. Who would have known? Not me, clearly.” Halifax heaved a sigh. “Well, at least now I know why we’re not refueling. This is great, Cade, just great. Where do we get more money, huh? Do you have any ideas?”

“I do.”

“That’s good,” Halifax said. “Let’s hear it.”

“My idea is to put you in charge of getting us more finances.”

Halifax glared at him before finally nodding and smiling. “Remember you said that.”

“Why?” Cade asked suspiciously.

“You’re going to find out soon enough. When you do, don’t balk. That’s all I ask. Don’t balk.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Cade said, eyeing the doctor. What’s he up to now?

“Good,” Halifax said. “Just remember you said I’m in charge of finding revenue sources.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll remember.”

“I’m not worried, because I’m going to remind you if and when you forget.”

Chapter Forty-One

Nine days later, the Descartes slid into orbit around Trinor in the Norvin System. It wasn’t a Concord-affiliated planet or system even though Trinor had a breathable atmosphere. Well, that was more or less true, as long as one remembered not to freeze his lungs by breathing the air directly. Trinor was an Arctic nightmare world with freezing nights at minus one hundred degrees at the equator in summer. Howling winds piled snowdrifts thirty meters, more in some places.

Big-game hunters from Tomb—a nearby Concord planet from a different star system—often landed on safaris at the equator in summer. They hunted the Trinor larl, a four-meter-long feline beast with rich fur, sabertooth-like fangs, razor-sharp claws and a savage temperament.

Gretel Mining Incorporated from Grudd—another Concord planet from a different star system—had established seven excavation sites around Trinor, mining the rare earth minerals bastnasite, monazite and loparite.

Despite the bleak environment, a small outpost town had developed on the equator near two Gretel Mines and the touchdown point for most big-game hunters. The town—Minden—had an outlaw atmosphere and was the larl-pelt emporium for the few desperado hunters and trappers that had chosen to live on Trinor year-round. Some of those hunters doubled as guides for the Tomb hunting parties.

The Descartes had come to Trinor because the Concord Patrol posted a wanted list every year. Dr. Halifax happened to have acquired one as they left the Amklana space station. He’d circled several promising names, among them a notorious starmenter named Handsome Dan. Some back-channel research on the doctor’s part had uncovered the interesting fact that the starmenter was said to have fled to the industrial planet Grudd.

Starmenter was the Concord name for space pirate. The wanted list said that Handsome Dan had hijacked three starliners, robbing the passengers, torturing the richest for special bank or stock codes and kidnapping the prettiest women, taking them with him as he and his men fled in the liner pinnaces or lifeboats. Many of the kidnapped lovelies returned home after Dan received high ransoms for them. Some of the un-ransomed women found themselves in the space sex trade, and some, unfortunately, were never heard from again.

As could be expected, shame, rage, grief and other fierce emotions gripped many families that had lost daughters, wives and sisters to Handsome Dan and his crew. Collectively, they put up a hefty sum for the starmenter’s capture.

The fourth and final hijack had ended in disaster for everyone except Dan and three of his starmenters. The liner had detonated to cover the escape of Dan and his trio in a pinnace, the explosion killing the professional Patrol tracking team hot on their heels. The team had orders to bring Dan and his men to justice. With the debacle, the Patrol added to the sum that would be given as reward for Dan’s capture alive. Many of the grieving families wanted Handsome Dan alive so they could learn the fate of their lost loved ones.

Halifax had a knack for this kind of detective work. From the beginning, he found something fishy about Handsome Dan, some memory he had that told him…told him—

“We should stop at Maurice,” Halifax said.

They had left Amklana four days ago, the scout cruising the star lanes as they raced for Earth.

“Never heard of Maurice,” Cade said.

“No need you should have,” the doctor said. “It’s a Concord hub world and sector capital.”

“So?”

“So I might learn something important about Handsome Dan at Maurice.”

Cade turned to him stiffly. “I’ve told you before. I’m not a bounty hunter. I don’t want to be a bounty hunter and—”

“Hey, wait a second,” Halifax said. “Didn’t you tell me that I’m in charge of finances?”

“I suppose so.”

“Were you joking?” Halifax asked in an innocent voice.

“No…” Cade said after a moment. “I was serious.”

“Then we should stop at Maurice. It’s important.”

Reluctantly, Cade nodded.

Whereupon, five days ago, Halifax had made a slight detour as the scout heated for Maurice.

The Concord hub world was a strange sector capital, as it was a giant water moon orbiting a gas giant far from the system star. That meant the Descartes dropped out of FTL travel nearly beside the planet—moon. Most of the population lived underground, as the gas giant and water moon traveled through a dusty region with an uncommon number of meteors striking the surface.

“We have to go down,” Halifax said in the Descartes from orbit.

“Care to tell me why?” Cade asked.

“You’re not going to like the reason.”

Cade sighed.

“You’re going to act as my bodyguard,” Halifax said. “I’m going to need one, too, as we’re meeting renegade Group Six contacts down on the planet.”

The soldier stared at Halifax in disbelief.

“They’re rogue agents, but they keep in touch with what’s going on.”

“Why don’t we rob just them?” the soldier asked.

“I’m curious, Cade. Is robbing a moral action?”

“If you rob from robbers,” Cade said seriously.

“These are rogue Group Six agents, not thieves or robbers.”

“Stealing secrets isn’t theft?”

“Hey, Cade, do you want to reach Earth or not? We lack funds. Crossing nearly seven hundred light-years costs money we don’t presently have. We did: but you gave most of our money away, remember?”

Cade grumbled under his breath.

“So why not tell me,” Halifax said. “How do you want to earn cash: the slow honest way or the fast dishonest way?”

“Bounty hunting isn’t dishonest, just distasteful.”

“Well, there you go,” Halifax said. “We’re certainly not going to rob everyone associated with Group Six. That will get us on a hit list fast. But if we’re going to grab Handsome Dan—as I think we might—we need intelligence about him, especially as to his present whereabouts.”

“Fine, fine,” Cade said. “Let’s go down and met your shady friends. If anyone messes with you, I’ll break their fingers or their jaw, whichever is easier.”

***

The scout parked in a space station. Halifax made a call to the water moon below. He must have received an answer. The two rode a shuttle down to Maurice, heading for the southern pole.

They landed at a packed spaceport seething with all kinds of people. It was a zoo. They rode an escalator for three kilometers, took a mass elevator down and reached the underground city Mast. It was a rabbit’s warren of mazes, lobbies, tunnels, annexes and beggars, a million beggars.

Halifax walked in front and Cade behind, but it was slow going, with beggars grabbing and clutching at their garments, at times trying to pickpocket them.

“Here,” the doctor said, pushing a newly purchased baton into the soldier’s hands. “This might help.”

It did, and soon the sea of people gave the two of them a wider berth and they made better time.

Eventually, the two entered a packed restaurant with flashing lights making it harder to see. They moved to the back area. At a rear door, Halifax whispered a code word to a vest-armored guard. The guard passed the code word along, activating a wall speaker. Soon, the rear door opened and a huge man in a black suit appeared. He was taller and wider than Cade, with a bullet-shaped head and hard light eyes like diamonds. It didn’t look as if the man had any fat and that his muscles would rip through the tight suit fabric.

“Could you take him?” Halifax whispered.

Cade did not answer, but he was sure he could.

The huge man crooked a finger, summoning them. “Follow me,” he said in a deep voice. He turned, not waiting to see if they followed, leading them down a short corridor to a large back room with six men counting money at three tables. The skinniest man looked up. He was a thin creature wearing a silk suit and with a horrible burn mark on the left side of his face. The burn had left that eye like a white piece of marble.

“Halifax?” the man asked.

The doctor nodded.

“Did you search him?” the man asked the huge bruiser.

“Not yet,” the bruiser rumbled. “I thought—”

“I do the thinking,” the burned man said. “Search them.”

“I wouldn’t,” Cade said, with the drawn WAK .55 Magnum in his hand.

Everyone in the room froze.

“What is this?” the burned man demanded of Halifax. “You two will be dead before you leave the restaurant.”

“Not if I kill all of you,” Cade said calmly.

“Reece?” the burned man asked the bruiser.

The huge suited muscleman eyed Cade. The soldier glanced at him once.

“Don’t screw with him, Boss,” huge Reece said.

“You getting soft?” the burned man asked Reece.

The monster man shook his bullet-shaped head.

“Sure, fine,” the burned man said. “Put away your piece,” he told Cade. “Halifax, let’s step into here and we can talk.”

Cade didn’t put away the piece, but he didn’t aim it directly at anyone anymore.

The burned man studied Cade and finally shrugged, snapping his fingers.

Reece opened a door, the burned man led, Halifax followed and Cade brought up the rear. After he passed through the door, Reece closed it behind him.

The burned man called himself Mace Flick. Had he once worked for Group Six? Halifax thought so.

Cade didn’t listen to the two men talk as they sat at a small round table. He observed and kept his senses on high alert. The door creaked open once, and he saw Reece peer in at him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mace told his muscle.

The door closed.

Halifax must have said something that sparked Mace’s interest. The burned man told the doctor that Handsome Dan was an old Group Six asset, a money collector and intelligence gatherer. The missing women had no doubt died under intense interrogation.

“I knew it,” Halifax said. “It’s good news, as I need Dan for a special job.”

“What kind of job?” Mace asked.

Cade’s ears perked up.

Halifax grinned. “Should I tell Director Titus, the next time I see him, that you demanded need-to-know information?”

“What are you talking about?” Mace said. “I’m rogue, out of the business.”

“Just like me,” Halifax said, as he winked.

Mace leaned forward. “What are you trying to do? Get me killed? He’s listening, you know?”

Cade wasn’t sure who the burned man meant.

“Oh, yeah,” Halifax said in his innocent voice.

“You bastard,” Mace said. After that, he started to talk in earnest.

Halifax learned that Handsome Dan the Starmenter had left Grudd in a Gretel Metals cargo hauler, reaching Trinor and lying low there. It turned out that Dan had once been a native trapper on the Arctic world. Halifax also learned that Handsome Dan was ugly as sin, with two larl claw scars crisscrossing his face, meaning that he often wore a Xian facemask, a high-tech item giving him the illusion of handsome features. According to Mace, Dan was strong, fast and notoriously unscrupulous. He especially enjoyed using the Trinor seax to slice and dice those he hated.

The seax was an ancient Germanic word for knife. The Trinor seax was a long seax in the formal Germanic sense of the Early Middle Ages of Earth. It was fifty centimeters or twenty inches long, pattern welded and had a sword-like hilt.

The meeting wound down after that. As Halifax rose, Mace said, “Don’t come asking for me again.”

“No worries,” the doctor said.

“And leave your gunman behind next time,” Mace added. “That was embarrassing.”

“He is also a testament to how much I respect you,” Halifax said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Mace said. “Just get the hell out of here before I have my people burn you two.”

Cade and Halifax left without incident, reaching the spaceport four hours after arriving. They took a shuttle upstairs and were soon on their way again in the Descartes.

Five days later, they arrived in Trinor orbit. Despite everything they’d learned, the key problem for Cade was going to be in finding Dan on Trinor. Mace hadn’t had any idea about the starmenter’s location here. Other problems existed, as Dan no doubt had old friends on Trinor who would help him, clearly had friends in Gretel Metals—a Grudd corporation—and certainly had friends, if one could call it that, with Earth Intelligence.

“My best guess is that he’s in Minden,” Halifax said in the Descartes’ piloting chamber. “Hiding in the open is often the safest bet. He could be trapping in the back country, but I think an operator like Dan would enjoy posing as a guide for rich hunters, maybe future targets.”

Cade stared at the doctor. The soldier didn’t care for the job of bounty hunter. It was mercenary, beneath his dignity as a combat officer and smacked of cold-blooded man hunting as compared to hot battle during a war. Still, Cade refused to balk at the finance assignment and give Halifax the pleasure of saying, “I told you not to regret it.” Besides, capturing a pirate was a good deed, and the ample reward money for Handsome Dan would solve their cash needs for months to come.

Yet, finding Dan would be one thing, kidnapping him and leaving Trinor another.

First things first, the soldier told himself. “Have you contacted the Ossuary?” he asked.

“I’m about to do that,” Halifax said.

“Let me know what they say,” Cade replied. “We’ll make the rest of our plans after that.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Marcus Cade came down to Trinor on the Ossuary’s heavy lifter. The Luxury Yacht Ossuary—with five officers, twenty crew and seven rich hunters and their servants—had arrived from Tomb. Tomb had heavier gravity than most Earth-norm worlds, and its natives were tougher and stronger than average. Maybe that was one of the reasons its rich folk liked to hunt larls on Trinor.

Cade walked off the ramp from the landed heavy lifter, carrying luggage to the stoutly built log hotel in Minden. Like the others from the lifter, the soldier wore a thick parka, pants and snow boots, and he had a heated breather. It was little more than a tube stuck in his mouth with a snorkel-like mouthpiece. A battery-powered generator heated the nearly frozen air as it passed through the tube into his mouth. Every area of his body and head had covering. Even so, at night, outdoor activity was severely limited due to the extreme cold.

Soon finished with his chores—Cade was masquerading as a servant for Senior Finch—the soldier went with many of the others to the Bread & Brew. The place was even more stoutly built than the hotel, with native log construction, a veritable fortress against the cold. Cade left his breather, parka and snow-pants in the antechamber. Inside the main area, the B&B had an eatery, bar and poker room. Cade ate a roast beef sandwich and drank ale from a frosted glass alone at a small table.

As he ate the sandwich, Cade ruminated on Earth Intelligence’s long reach throughout the Concord of Planets. In his opinion, it would have been easier to rob another spy station as they’d done on Durdane II, but he’d given leave for Halifax to pick their next money-gathering project.

Am I a soft touch? Velia helped us. We couldn’t have pulled it off without her help. I couldn’t just leave her in the lurch. She earned the money and a second chance for happiness.

Cade muttered under his breath. He needed to forget about Velia. She was the past, a blip on the quest to find and free his wife. Get your head in the game, Force Leader. You’re dealing with murderers and kidnappers, the scum of the space lanes.

The soldier’s eyes narrowed as considered the target. Handsome Dan had gone to ground on this frozen wasteland of a planet. Would the brazen starmenter be content with lying low, or would he try to hijack a spaceship so he could recruit another pirate crew? The Ossuary might be a good pick for Dan, the rich hunters a lucrative target.

Cade shoved his empty plate from him. He didn’t want to waste time searching for Dan. Every moment spent here was one more that he wasn’t heading for Earth and his wife. Grab the starmenter and get back aboard the scout. His mouth tightened. It was time for intense action to intimidate any would-be friends and associates.

Cade ordered a second mug of ale before leaving the restaurant area. According to his observation, the B&B was full of tough, rough men and a few waitresses wearing next to nothing. The women seemed haggard and overworked.

Could he convince one of the waitresses to point out Handsome Dan to him? Maybe, but they would likely alert their boss, at the least and probably their lover.

Cade drained the mug and went to the poker room, a smoky den with groups of thick-shouldered men huddled around round tables, playing cards. The rattle of chips, the laughter, banter, haunted eyes, shuffled cards and drifting smoke made a familiar scene to Cade. Soldiers loved playing cards, as it passed the time and allowed them to believe themselves cunning bastards when they won and unlucky fools who should now easily find a girl to love. Lucky in love, unlucky in cards was an ancient maxim, no doubt first coined by card losers.

Cade joined a group, sitting down, passing over two #100 Concord Universal Credit Notes, the sum of their money reserves. He received thirty-two red chips and forty blue. The reds were worth #5 CUCNs and the blues #1 CUCN.

“Do you want to wait for the blinds to pass before you enter?” the dealer asked.

“No, I’m in,” Cade said.

“It’s five to you then, small blind,” the dealer said.

Cade moved five blue chips from his pile, putting them before him. He looked at his hole cards next, seeing a six and seven of clubs. No one had raised, but there were three limpers, meaning they’d called the big blind of ten chips. Cade raised to twenty-five. The big blind folded, and the limpers called, matching his raise.

The flop showed a five of hearts, an eight of clubs and an ace of clubs.

Cade had an open-ended straight draw, a flush draw and a pair of sixes. He bet one hundred CUCN.

The other three players called.

The next card was another ace, a heart.

Cade stared at the board. “All in,” he said, shoving the rest of his chips forward. He was semi-bluffing—he had nothing, but he was representing that he had an ace in the hole and two on the board, for three aces. More importantly, he could still catch a four or nine to make a straight or a club to make a flush.

“Call,” the next player said. He was a big muscular man with a pelt of black oily hair, shaved eyebrows and a quirky mouth that didn’t quite match his speech, like an unsynchronized holo-vid actor.

“I’m out,” the second player said, tossing down his cards.

“Got an ace, eh?” the third asked Cade.

The soldier just stared at the man, a bearded dwarf with huge shoulders.

“I’m all in,” the huge dwarf said, grinning through his beard at Cade. The other player called.

The next card was a deuce of clubs, giving Cade a flush. His high card was a seven of clubs. Did any of the others have a flush as well, but with a higher club?

Cade flipped over his two hole cards.

The quirky mouthed man scowled with his shaved eyebrows at Cade’s hole cards. “You have a flush, damnit. I can’t believe it.”

The grinning dwarf mucked his hole cards by tossing them face down to the dealer.

The dealer nodded, shoving the winnings to Cade. That left Mr. Quirky Mouth with nothing, while the huge dwarf had around three hundred left in chips.

“Give me another hundred,” Mr. Quirky Mouth said, tossing a credit note onto the table.

Cade noted the man had powerful hands with black-painted fingernails.

The game continued and Cade stacked his chips. For the next four hours, he went up and then down, having five hundred in chips at the end. Mainly, he watched, cataloging patrons but more the dealers and cocktail waitresses. He drank more ale, tipped the dealers when he won, tipped the girls when they brought his drink and listened to the prattle and stories of those playing cards around him.

He finally settled on a quiet dealer, an older man with a scar on his forehead and a thick white head of hair. The toughest looking patrons knew his name and usually greeted him. He nodded back or muttered a word or two. His name was Chulik. According to what Cade heard, the man used to be a trapper and obviously had a mangled left arm. He said little, watched much and winced now and again as he shuffled the cards. It was clear Chulik knew everyone and often from long association.

Cade began to play in earnest during the fifth hour. Some big-game hunters sat down at his table, as it had turned into the table with the largest chip stacks. By skillful and sometimes lucky play, the soldier added to his stack until he had one thousand in chips.

A few of the big-game hunters tossed more credit notes onto the table, rebuying their lost stacks. Two card sharks joined the game, bringing huge stacks with them.

Cade forged on, adding here, adding there, never pushing all in with these blokes. He figured himself better at post-flop play, focusing on the fish at the table.

Finally, he had two thousand in chips. That, he decided, might be enough. If it wasn’t, he would resort to ugly tactics.

He got up from the table with his chips stacked in trays and weaved unsteadily as if he’d drunk too much. He went to the bar and got credit notes for the chips. These notes, he stuffed in an inner pocket. Then he drank ale at the bar, waiting until Chulik the dealer was finished for the night.

The old man with the forehead scar and white head of hair finally bundled up in the antechamber. Cade did as well. They both put their breathers in and walked out the door into the bitter cold, Chulik ahead of Cade.

The old man headed for the log-built barracks at the end of the small town. Cade headed in the opposite direction. It was dark, with the stars shining brilliantly in the freezing heavens. Even with all his garments, Cade felt the chill sink through him.

He hurried, with icy snow crunching underfoot. He ran around a building, going in the back, racing through the snow, feeling chill air come through his tube because he was breathing too hard. He hurried nevertheless, needing to beat Chulik to the barracks.

Cade reached the place and walked toward the front of the long low building. He saw swathed Chulik nearing. Cade heaved a sigh. He didn’t really want to do this to the old-timer, but Handsome Dan was hidden on Trinor. Cade didn’t have time to search for the cunning starmenter using normal methods.

Chulik tramped through the snow, heading for the main door.

Cade waited in darkness, surging as Chulik neared the entrance. “Hey,” Cade said past his breather.

Chulik turned to look at him.

Cade rushed him, grabbing the older man in a bear hug, lifting him and racing around for the edge of the barracks. Chulik struggled to free himself.

“Feel that,” Cade said past the breather. He put the old man down and pressed his knife against his back.

Chulik must have understood, as his shoulders slumped and he no attempt to flee.

In moments, Cade quit walking and pulled Chulik around, pushing the old man’s back against the barrack’s side wall.

“See this?” Cade asked, showing him the knife.

Chulik stared at him through the folds of his woolen facemask.

“Now, do you see this?” Cade asked, showing him the two thousand in credit notes in the other gloved hand. “You can have either. I don’t care. But I want the truth.”

“What truth?” Chulik asked dully.

“I’m here for Handsome Dan.”

Chulik closed his eyes as if in pain.

“Does that bother you?” Cade asked.

Without opening his eyes, Chulik nodded.

“Why?” asked Cade.

“He cut my shoulder ten years ago, maiming me,” the old-timer said in a tired voice as he opened his eyes.

“Tell me who he is. I’ll do the rest.”

“I can’t do that,” Chulik said. “I have to kill him myself.”

“You know who he is, though, right?”

“Of course, I do.”

“I need him alive.”

“Because he’s worth more money to you alive?” Chulik asked.

“Yes.”

“I can’t finger him for you.”

“I believe you,” Cade said. “I can tell that you’re a man of honor.”

Chulik said nothing.

“How do you plan to kill him?” Cade asked.

“What does that matter to you?”

“Fine,” Cade said. He pocketed the two thousand. Then he put a gloved hand on Chulik’s right sleeve and started dragging him toward the nearby forest.

Chulik struggled. It didn’t matter, though, as Cade was far stronger.

“What are you doing?” the other protested.

“Taking you to the forest,” Cade said. “You’ve chosen the knife.” He dragged the older man farther.

“Wait,” Chulik rasped.

Cade stopped and turned around, staring at the older man.

“You’d really kill me?” Chulik asked.

“You’ve given me no choice. I have to cover my tracks.”

“And if I take the two thousand?”

“You have to earn it first,” Cade said. “But you’d be alive afterward.”

“I could finger you after taking your money.”

“You could.”

“But I won’t,” Chulik said.

“I know that,” Cade said.

“How do you know that?”

“I, also, am a man of honor.”

Chulik stared at him. “Two men of honor can trust each other?”

“I’d like to think so.”

Chulik nodded as the stars twinkled in the frozen heavens. “I’ve finally decided on my weapon, how I’m going to get vengeance on Dan. You’re my weapon. Maybe it will be worse for him this way. You’ll give him to the Concord authorities, I take it?”

“I will.”

Chulik held out a gloved hand, palm up.

“You do realize that I or my partners will come back and kill you slowly if you’re lying to me,” Cade said.

“Don’t bother threatening me, bounty hunter. Either give me the money or the knife. It’s your choice now.”

“How do I find Handsome Dan?”

Chulik told him.

Cade stared at the old dealer.

“It’s the truth,” Chulik said.

Cade gave him the two thousand and started to leave.

“Wait,” Chulik said.

Cade stopped and regarded him.

“Just like that?” Chulik asked.

Cade said nothing, even though he liked the old timer.

“Okay,” Chulik said, pocketing the money. “Good luck hunting, Killer.”

Cade nodded, deciding tonight was the time to do it as he started back for the Bread & Brew.

Chapter Forty-Three

Cade went to the hotel first to pick up some equipment. The trouble with his forming plan was that he couldn’t sit around drinking ale or go back to the poker table, as he’d used their last cash as his stake, and he’d given it all to Chulik.

Cade passed an empty lobby desk, walking under an arch into a carpeted area. There, the lobby gunmen gave him a once-over, three guards in sweaters with holstered sidearms. They were sitting on soft chairs, each of them standing to regard him.

The leader, a pockmarked man with sloping shoulders, looked at a paper. It might have had a face sketch on it. “Are you one of Senior Finch’s servants?” he asked in a gruff voice.

They’re antsy, nervous. Damn, someone fingered me. See if you can brazen it out.

Cade lowered his head, trying to walk past as he muttered a reply.

“Let me see your room key,” the leader said.

The other two moved, blocking his passage.

Kill or be killed, Cade told himself. I don’t want to do this, but—

Something had gone wrong. Maybe Halifax made a mistake when talking to his old contacts. Maybe Earth Intelligence had learned about their rouge nature. Maybe he’d read Chulik wrong and the dealer had already phoned to let the locals know what was up.

“My key?” asked Cade, stopping, putting a whine in his voice.

The deception must have worked because the leader grinned at his two henchmen. Maybe they enjoyed bullying others instead of working to be efficient.

Cade pivoted and rushed the leader, moving like greased death, with the seven-inch boot knife in his hands.

“Rask!” one of the henchmen warned.

The pockmarked leader stared at Cade as the knife slashed his throat. It was brutal and efficient, and hopefully not done in vain.

The henchman that had shouted the warning fast-drew his gun and fired a single round. It must have been a panicked shot, though, as it missed Cade, the slug whining off metal embedded in a heavy table to bury itself in a wall.

Cade threw the knife so it sank into the henchman’s throat, ensuring that he didn’t fire again.

The last hotel security man didn’t have a chance. Cade’s fist smashed against his face, laying him out on the synthetic lobby rug. Cade bent down and grabbed the man by the labels, shaking him.

“What? Huh?” the face-battered henchman asked as his teeth rattled against each other.

“What happened to Senior Finch?” Cade demanded, deciding to start there.

“Finch is under arrest,” the henchman slurred.

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

“Who arrested him?”

“A Gretel Metal’s security detail,” the man wheezed. “They have federal authority from Grudd.”

This must be an undercover Earth Intelligence operation, working through their contacts on Grudd. That meant bigger instead of smaller. That meant he had to go on the offense and stay on the offense until he won or died. Anything else would give them the initiative and would end in their defeat and likely death.

“Where’s Finch now?” Cade demanded.

“I dunno.”

Cade had taken the man’s gun, pointing it at him. He now cocked it, pressing the barrel against the forehead.

“Wait, wait, please don’t kill me.”

“Give me a reason.”

“W-we’re supposed to pick up Finch’s servants is all. We heard there’s an illegal bounty hunter among them, a bastard…” The henchmen’s eyes widened as he stared at Cade.

“You’re talking about me,” Cade said.

The henchman glanced at his dead friends and then into Cade’s pitiless eyes. “Look, mister, I was just doing my job is all. You can’t think—”

“Shut up,” Cade said. Where had they taken Finch? That was the place to hit. “Where’s Gretel Metal’s headquarters on the planet?”

“Mine Seven,” the henchman whined. “It’s fifteen kilometers from here.”

“You ever been there?”

“On the outside, yeah,” the henchman said.

“Shit,” Cade muttered. “This is a cluster—”

The front hotel door banged open, cutting off his speech. Drunken laughter drifted around the arch where Cade was hidden from their view.

“Make a noise,” Cade whispered to the henchman, “and you’re dead.”

The man began shaking. “Look, mister—”

Cade hit him in the face with his gun hand, breaking the nose and hammering him into unconsciousness. He straightened, fixing his clothes, brushing off some dirt.

The drunken partiers stumbled inside from the porch, shouting and slamming the main door shut. No one was at the lobby desk. Had the henchmen told whoever had been there to leave earlier, or had the person left of their own volition?

Cade tightened his grip on the gun. How deep did this go? Was this a mistake from the beginning? Had Group Six personnel boarded the orbital Descartes or was there still time to get away from here?

Cade shook his head. They were plumb out of money. If they failed to capture Handsome Dan, they would have no reward money to pay for the next refueling and overhaul stop. Soon, they would have nothing to eat either. This stop had to show a profit. But if they had to run—

Gretel Metals, Cade thought. Had Earth Intelligence bought a stake in the company? How had Handsome Dan moved around unseen? Using Gretel Metals as a front seemed like the easiest explanation, especially as he’d come here from Grudd.

The drunken men were coming this way.

Decision time. Cade nodded and tucked the gun behind his back under his belt. He began whistling as he rounded the arch before the drunken men did.

“Hey,” he said, stopping upon seeing them.

Two of the five men didn’t see him and kept on talking. The other three stopped talking as they stared bleary-eyed at him.

Cade recognized them as five of the big-game hunters from Tomb. They were large, bulky individuals.

“What?” the biggest one asked. He was a brute with thinning red hair and flushed features. Right, his name was Senior Burris.

“They grabbed Senior Finch,” Cade said.

“Who did?”

“Security from Gretel Metals,” Cade said.

“Why would they do that?” Burris asked, frowning.

“It’s a setup,” Cade said, deciding on the spot how to play this. He’d use some Halifax-like deception. “I’m from the Patrol. We know Handsome Dan the Starmenter is holed up in Minden. What’s worse is that Gretel Metals backs him.”

“That’s a cock-and-bull story if I ever heard one,” Burris said.

“Really? Then how do you explain this?” Cade backed up around the arch and held out a hand toward the synthetic carpet.

Curious, the five hunters stumbled forward to stare at the two dead men and the one bloody-faced unconscious man.

“What happened to them?” Burris demanded.

“They found out about me,” Cade said.

Senior Burris and the others eyed him with new respect. “You did this?”

“I did, Senior Burris. Now, the Patrol is requesting your help.”

“Requesting how?” Burris demanded.

“I need immediate transportation to Mine Seven. It’s fifteen kilometers from here.”

“That’s where they’re holding Senior Finch?”

“You see the bloody faced one on the floor?” Cade asked.

“Of course,” Burris said.

“That’s what he told me.”

Burris scratched his balding head. “I’ve heard of Handsome Dan. I thought he was dead.”

“He’s on the run, hiding,” Cade said.

“And the Patrol tracked him down to Minden?”

“To Trinor,” Cade said.

“Then, how come there aren’t any Patrol ships out here?” Burris asked.

“There is,” Cade said, “the Patrol Scout Descartes. Captain Halifax is piloting.”

“Call him down to help you.”

“That would take too long,” Cade said. “I have to move faster than that. You don’t want to Finch to die, do you?”

“That’s Senior Finch to you,” Burris said haughtily.

“My mistake,” Cade said.

Burris glared at him drunkenly. The scowl slowly departed the hunter’s heavy features. “I’m an excellent judge of character. You’re obviously a hardened tracker, a veteran combat officer. I’ll be damned. I believe you. Yes. We’ll take the heavy lifter, and we’ll go now, all five of us. We can sober up on the way there.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Cade said.

Chapter Forty-Four

Senior Burris piloted the heavy lifter, easily finding Mine Seven, several kilometers of cleared ground with tall forest trees surrounding the place. He brought the lifter down into a log-walled compound, with half a dozen metal buildings inside. Three tracked vehicles were parked beside the largest building, clearly the main one.

Burris waited in the piloting chair until four armed men left the main building and approached the lifter. The main ramp came down and a loudspeaker broadcast Burris’s words. “You come on in.”

Meanwhile, Cade slipped out the back of the lifter, hunched over as he stayed out the lamplight shining on the snow. He came from the back of the main building and found an unlocked door. He hurried in, taking off his hood, listening.

He began striding through the corridors, seeing a light under the jam of a closed door. He pulled out the gun he’d liberated earlier and soon put his ear against the door.

A man threatened another. This had to be it.

Cade tried the door handle. It moved. He opened the door slowly and saw a bound and bloody man tied in a chair. It was Senior Finch. Two other bullyboys were there, one of them the slick-haired man with shaved eyebrows from the poker game earlier. The huge bearded dwarf was the one doing the talking. According to old man Chulik, that was Handsome Dan. The other with the Xian mask often pretended to be Dan, but the real leader, the starmenter, was the charismatic dwarf.

Cade considered his options. Finch looked like he’d live, but they had badly misused the man. Was this the time to play gentlemanly games?

Cade almost shot Mr. Oily Hair and the third man of the group, no doubt a dirty Gretel Metals operative or someone from Earth Intelligence. Instead, he crept into the room, but something gave him away.

The man he didn’t recognize turned toward him while holding a gun against his leg. Cade shot him dead, rushing forward and pistol-whipping Mr. Oily Hair against the side of the head, laying him out cold so he toppled onto the floor.

The huge dwarf—Handsome Dan—whirled around, holding a Trinor seax in his hand. The blade was bloody. He’d obviously been using it on Finch.

“You,” Dan said. “I didn’t—”

Cade’s gun discharged, the bullet smashing Dan’s seax-wielding hand. The long knife fell onto the floor and Dan cradled his blasted hand, biting his lower lip to keep from moaning.

“Lie on the floor,” Cade said.

Dan stared at him. “You think I’m going to let—”

Cade moved fast, striking like a cobra, using the pistol butt so it stroked Dan’s face. The starmenter collapsed, alive but no longer able to plot a tricky move against him.

The soldier peered here and there, aiming with the gun, but there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. The quick success startled him. But then, a sudden attack often achieved a brilliant surprise.

He cut Finch free, who grabbed an arm, thanking him with tears in his eyes.

“You’re okay now, Senior Finch.”

“Are you really with Earth Intelligence?”

“No,” Cade said. “Earth Intelligence used me. They were lying to you about me, sir.”

“I knew it.”

Cade took out a communicator, wondering if others had struck at Halifax. This was the moment.

“Hello,” the doctor said over the comm. “Is that you, Cade?”

“Are you all right?” Cade asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be? How come you’ve taken so long to call in?”

Cade frowned. “Can you bring in the scout and land at these coordinates?”

“Certainly,” Halifax said. “When would you like me to—?”

“Now,” Cade said. “Do it now, Doctor.”

***

The rest was anticlimactic. The Descartes landed. Cade took Handsome Dan and Sugar Pete—Mr. Oily Hair—aboard the scout, securing them with heavy restraints.

He had time to thank Senior Burris and Senior Finch. The chief of operations of Gretel Metals on Trinor was found with a bullet in the back of his head in the basement. The second-in-command had no idea about any secret dealings with Earth Intelligence. Three other Gretel Metals operatives escaped into the wilds.

Shortly thereafter, the Descartes lofted from the snowy surface, reaching orbit and then heading out of the Norvin System.

“You didn’t balk,” Halifax said later in the piloting chamber. “And you shouldn’t have, as this proved to be a piece of cake.”

“On your end,” Cade said, “not mine.”

“You don’t like bounty hunting?”

“No.”

“You’re good at it.”

Cade shrugged.

“Well, twelve light-years from here is a major Patrol base,” Halifax said. “We can drop off our cargo there and collect our reward.”

Cade nodded.

“Is something the matter?” Halifax asked.

“Yeah. Earth Intelligence. We keep running into them wherever we go.”

“So?”

“Why is that?”

Halifax laughed. “Are you kidding? The head honchos of Earth think they should be running all Human Space. They’re too poor for spaceships—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cade said. “I know all that. Their Intelligence operatives are thick like flies on a corpse.”

“Look, Cade, Earth is home to man. They’ve been playing these games since the dawn of time. They’re good at it.”

Cade exhaled. “You’re right. It is what it is. Let’s drop off these starmenters, get our cash and keep going. I want to get my wife and friends out of Earth’s grasp as fast as possible.”

“What friends?” Halifax asked. “You never talked about friends, just your wife.”

“By friends I mean the others like me from Battle Unit 175,” Cade said.

“Heaven help us, more like you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Halifax laughed, shaking his head. “We did it, Cade. We’re in one piece and soon we’ll have enough money to finish the journey. That should make you happy.”

“It does.”

“Good,” Halifax said. “Once we unload our trash, let’s have a party. We’ll find some dames…” The doctor stopped talking as he studied Cade and shook his head afterward.

“What is it now?” the soldier asked.

“It never occurred to me before this, but you must be as horny as a goat. No wonder you want to find your wife so badly.”

Cade stiffened in outrage. “Doctor, be very careful how you speak about my wife.”

Halifax blinked and blinked again. “Sure, sure, Cade, no problem. I’m sorry if I went too far. I won’t do it again.”

Cade exhaled, staring out of the polarized window, considering his prisoners. Handsome Dan and Sugar Pete were stupid names for killers and underhanded Earth Intelligence operatives. The soldier shook his head, putting them out of mind for now.

Raina dear, I’m still coming for you. I’m not sure you’ll like this time, though. Cade smiled just the same. It would be a better era with his wife by his side. The key now, was figuring out a way to make the light-years go by faster than they had been. Otherwise, this trip was going to take far too long.

THE END

To the Reader: Thanks! I hope you’ve enjoyed The Soldier: Escape Vector. If you liked the book and would like to see more in this universe, please put up some stars and a review.

Table of Contents

- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four