The Soldier: The X-Ship

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Bastards,” Halifax said through gritted teeth. They were destroying potentially profitable items. He’d waited all this time, and now there would be nothing to collect?

  Since then, the doctor had calmed down. He was still alive. He now watched the enemy ship head out. Even better, the teardrop-shaped vessel had not left any space mines or missiles behind. The farther away the tech-company ship traveled, the greater velocity it reached.

  Halifax waited two more days before he acted. Finally, he restarted the main engine and put everything back online. Soon, it was warm enough in the scout so he could shed the spacesuit.

  The teardrop-shaped vessel was already half a billion kilometers away, and the planet presently blocked a direct line-of-sight between them. The doctor drummed his fingers on the flight console. Should he go down? Had the androids or tech people left a nasty surprise for him? Could Cade possibly be alive after all this time?

  “If anyone could,” Halifax muttered, “it would be Mr. Tough-Guy Soldier.”

  Halifax engaged the thruster, heading for the planet’s upper atmosphere.

  ***

  As he sat at the controls, Halifax’s heart fluttered like a frightened hummingbird’s. He’d passed through the upper atmosphere without a hitch. Now, he descended through thicker air pressure as winds buffeted the scout. Yes, the ex-Patrol craft could do this, but not easily. Survival probably demanded a better pilot than himself. Manfully, however—in his own mind, at least—Halifax continued the descent.

  A new problem arose, one he hadn’t thought of before. How was he going to find Cade? If the soldier were dead, he’d never know precisely. If the soldier lived—

  “It’s always something,” Halifax complained.

  He approached ground zero, finding it easily enough, as it was not only devoid of vegetation but had a distinctive blast crater. Hmm, look at that: the androids had used a nuclear weapon. He’d known that, of course, but seeing the effects up close was different. The androids played for keeps. Maybe he should forget about Avalon IV and its secrets. Survival was the thing.

  In the end, curiosity prevailed over the doctor’s common sense. Maybe that was why he’d originally accepted a Group Six offer as a case officer. He had an inner itch to know things, the more secret, the greater the itch. It frankly tickled his vanity to know what others did not.

  Here I am, the only technologically advanced person on Avalon IV, a proscribed planet.

  Frankly, it was a thrill, particularly as he didn’t have to worry about immediate death. However, thrills weren’t worth credits, now were they? He needed saleable secrets. He could tell the Patrol or Director Titus what had happened down here. Would the Director believe and reinstate him?

  Halifax believed the Director would. Knowledge was critical. What about Cade, though? Did he owe the thug anything? Could the soldier have survived the nuclear device?

  Halifax rubbed his jaw as he stared at the blast crater. Why had the tech people or androids failed down here? The first two ships had not left the surface. The nuke must have obliterated them, one of the reasons for the nuke. Yes, the two ships must have become unrecoverable. That indicated something or someone had fought and damaged them. Cade must have done something to them, somehow.

  I’ll keep looking for the grunt, the doctor decided. But I have to figure out a way to find him fast. What makes the most sense?

  In the end, he decided on a deliberate search pattern, using the nuked area as his pivot point.

  Halifax spent the next three days searching. He used the gravity units to float the scout, always keeping a nervous eye on how much fuel he had left. The scout crisscrossed back and forth, flying a hundred meters or so above the surface. He saw Varg nomads, Nian tribesmen, herds of herbivores and some of the big predators. He recorded the locations of the Vargs and Nian, and would check on them later for prisoners. Before he did that, however—

  An aerial explosion in front of the scout caused Halifax to jerk in his seat. He was under attack! His heart hammered as something tiny climbed into the sky. It exploded as well.

  He readied the .50 calibers and paused. The blasts hadn’t been too near. Maybe he wasn’t actually under attack. Using a zoom function on his viewer—Halifax laughed with relieved delight. This was unbelievable! He began manipulating the controls, taking the Descartes down.

  The ship gently settled onto grassland. Soon, an outer hatch opened, Halifax looked around until he spotted a big soldier limping toward him—Cade, of course. The man carried a huge rifle on his back. He looked worn and haggard, but the soldier nodded, marching up to the hatch several meters above his head.

  “Dr. Halifax, I presume,” the soldier said dryly.

  Halifax frowned. “Don’t you recognize me, Cade?”

  The soldier laughed. “Of course, I do. It’s an old joke, many millennia old. I’m truly glad to you see, Doctor. Thanks for coming back and looking for me. I’m delightfully surprised.”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet,” Halifax said.

  “I’m sure you’re right. Do you have a ladder so I can join you?”

  “Of course.” Halifax pressed a switch and a ladder descended to the ground.

  Cade climbed up as Halifax moved back inside. The two men shook hands.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “Count on it,” Cade said. “First, though, let’s get out of here. We don’t want the Patrol to catch us. Are the tech people gone?”

  “I wouldn’t have come down otherwise.”

  Cade paused before heading deeper into the scout. He looked back at the scenery, at waving grass. He’d survived the mission onto Avalon IV. Now, he could begin looking for his wife, Raina Cade. Talking to this Director G.T. Titus of Group Six might be a good start. He’d have to research the idea.

  Cade retracted the ladder and shut the hatch. Then, he hurried to the piloting chamber. It was a good thing he’d shown Halifax mercy before. He nodded. That had been a very good thing indeed, worth remembering.

  Chapter Fifty

  The Descartes left the proscribed planet without incident and in time departed the Avalon System using the cranky Intersplit drive. During the journey, Cade and Halifax debated ideas in the piloting chamber.

  “I could go directly to Earth and request an audience with Director Titus.”

  “You could, you could,” Halifax tentatively agreed from the flight controls.

  “You don’t think that would be a good idea?”

  “In truth, I do not.”

  The soldier frowned. “Can you explain your reasoning?”

  “Director Titus is ruthless, and Earth is weak militarily compared to the Concord worlds.”

  “Meaning what exactly for me?”

  “The Director holds his few advantages close to the chest. Group Six is a spy and assassination agency. Secrecy and duplicity are two of its most powerful weapons. Having Ultras as secret agents is a plus. Look how you fared against the Web-Mind, Tara Alor and Rohan Mars.”

  Cade considered that.

  Halifax added, “If I were Director Titus with his mindset…I’d figure out a way to reinstate you in his service.”

  Cade touched the spot on the back of his head where a tiny piece of his skull had been removed, then replaced and sprayed with quick-heal. “You mean put another retooled cyborg obedience chip in my brain and give me a new mission with a new personality?”

  “If I had more obedience chips that is exactly what I’d do as the Director,” Halifax said.

  “That would likely erase everything I learned this mission.”

  Halifax pointed at him. “Now you’re beginning to understand the risks.”

  Cade stared pensively out of the polarized window. So how could he successfully penetrate Group Six or slip onto Earth and discover the whereabouts of the ancient stasis units they’d plundered? He eyed Halifax. “Did the Director ever indicate that he had more sleeping Ultras?”

  “Not to me.”

&
nbsp; “Do you have any idea whether Group Six has more like me in storage?”

  “Sorry,” Halifax said. “I don’t. Let me add something else. If you’re going to take a crack at Earth, I can’t go with you as I don’t dare do anything that Titus might construe as anti-Group Six.”

  Cade drummed his fingers on a console. Waging an underground operation against Group Six sounded like a risky proposition. Still, Director Titus had information he wanted. Others might have that information as well, but he didn’t know who they were and thus couldn’t ask them. The doctor had some understanding about Group Six, yet the man clearly was more interested in self-preservation than going head-to-head against the secret Earth agency. Besides, it would be a long voyage to Earth from this part of the Orion Arm. The scout wouldn’t make it without endless refueling stops and several more overhauls, and they needed to get the Intersplit engine fixed. If he left Halifax behind, how did he know the doctor wouldn’t send word ahead to Director Titus?

  Maybe Halifax understood the direction of the soldier’s thinking. The small man was carefully studying the bigger, finally inhaling and then exhaling as he said, “Say, uh, Cade, we never did learn the identity of the tech company. We have a few clues that could possibly help others figure it out. But we’re also in the dark as to where the tech company is, or even the planet where its buildings stand.”

  Cade squinted thoughtfully. “I suspect our best clue is the androids themselves. Think about it. Whoever manufactures such androids becomes a likely candidate.”

  “Logical, logical,” Halifax muttered.

  “But that wasn’t your point, was it?”

  “No…no, it wasn’t.”

  “Well?”

  Halifax blurted, “Now that you’re back, are you thinking about rescinding our former agreement?”

  “What are you talking about—oh, you mean regarding the scout?”

  “That’s right.”

  After a few seconds of thought, a tired smile spread across Cade’s face. “The scout is yours, Doctor. I gave it to you, and I keep my word—much as I need the scout.”

  Halifax nodded vigorously. “I know you’re a man of integrity, deep integrity. Your word is more than solid; it’s as heavy as lead.”

  “Your point?” Cade asked with an edge to his voice.

  “What are you going to do next? Head to Earth? Try to find those androids?”

  Cade shrugged.

  Halifax seemed to struggle with himself before he said, “Look, about Earth, your wife might not even be alive after all this time.”

  The tired smile evaporated as Cade’s features hardened.

  “Of course,” Halifax said hastily, “she was in stasis like you, at least long ago, you said. Jack Brune was in stasis and you were in stasis with him. Thus, the chances are good your wife is alive somewhere, most likely ‘sleeping’ on Earth, waiting for her chance to help Group Six.”

  Cade nodded curtly, weary of the doctor’s prattling voice.

  Did Halifax notice? He changed the topic as he said, “It was funny about Tara Alor being from the ancient Cyborg War like you. I wonder how many other gold mines are lying around like on Avalon IV.”

  “Gold mines?”

  “You know, finders keepers, selling off ancient tech—that kind of thing.” Halifax glanced sidelong at Cade. “Maybe you could figure out their locations from your time back in the day. You know, remembering hot spots or where the cyborgs—or your side, too—kept secret weapons.”

  Cade grunted noncommittally.

  “Okay, okay,” Halifax said. “You’re not interested at the moment. But let me ask you this: do you think anything valuable might have survived the nuke deep underground in the Avalon IV crypt?”

  Cade stared at Halifax before shaking his head. “Poking around in evil places—you’re thinking about this all wrong. If the cyborgs ever reemerge in this era with Web-Minds, cyborg troopers and chop-shops—”

  “Wait a second,” Halifax said, interrupting. “What’s a chop-shop?”

  A faraway stare made it obvious Cade peered into the past for the answer. “A chop-shop is a giant gruesome machine that takes ordinary humans, peeling off their skin and discarding useless bones and organs and grafting machine parts onto what’s left, turning them into the dreaded zombie cyborg troopers.”

  Halifax shivered. “That’s sick. You come from a horrifying past. You’re right. I hope the cyborgs stay dead forever.”

  Once more, Cade became pensive. “Perhaps I owe it to this era to go to the Patrol and tell them everything that happened to us.”

  “Whoa, whoa, slow down a moment,” Halifax said. “You’re right. The cyborgs are, or were, horrible. But you already fought them back in the day and here on Avalon IV. Before we do any more, or the Patrol locks us up, let’s find your wife. You saved this era a horror show. We all owe it to you to help you reunite with your love.”

  Cade rubbed the back of his neck. What was the correct action? He was a soldier and would always resist the cyborgs. Yet, he dearly loved his wife. He missed her beyond words.

  The scout shuddered, the Intersplit engine having a hiccup. That interrupted the conversation. Fortunately, the hiccup smoothed out almost immediately. Still, it showed both men the Intersplit needed to be in better working order.

  After checking the Intersplit settings, Halifax raised his eyebrows and peered at Cade speculatively. “I appreciate you giving me the scout, but this thing could end up being a money pit. To keep it in tiptop condition will take credits, thousands, tens of thousands of credits. If we’re going to Earth in the Descartes, we need to figure out ways to drum up all those credits.”

  “What? You told me you wouldn’t go to Earth.”

  “Not on a secret mission,” Halifax said. “That would be disloyal of me to Group Six. Like you, I’m a man of honor.”

  Cade raised his eyebrows.

  That seemed to check the doctor as he opened his mouth, closed it for several seconds and finally tried again. “Thinking about your plight has touched my sense of justice. You saved this part of the Orion Arm from cyborgs. Now it’s time…time for others to help you.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Well, sir, once we reach the general vicinity of Earth, I could let you off. I’d go and talk to the Director and tell him what happened, and maybe find out if he’d sell you your wife, or make some kind of deal. But how you went about your business would be up to you.”

  “I see,” Cade said. “That means you’d remain a Group Six case officer.”

  “I’m just thinking out loud.” With an index finger, Halifax tapped his pursed lips. “You know…keeping the scout running costs credits as I just mentioned. If the scout can’t make the journey because it eventually breaks down, and we don’t have the funds for a refit—” Halifax shook his head and glanced sidelong at Cade, perhaps to see if his words had any impact. “Anyway,” he said a moment later, “if I were to sell the scout while it still has value, we could use some of the credits to book passage on a starliner. Without the scout, we wouldn’t have as much freedom of movement around Earth, but would that really matter?”

  “It might,” Cade said. “Hmm. Suppose you kept the scout; how would we gain the needed funds for fuel and repairs?”

  “Exactly. What could we sell for enough credits?”

  “You’re driving at something, Doctor. Go ahead and tell me.”

  “We don’t have much to sell but knowledge, right?”

  “No. We don’t have anything to sell but for the scout and possibly some arcane, specialized knowledge.”

  “What about that fancy rifle of yours?”

  “The Gyroc?”

  “Along with its shells,” Halifax said. “Think about it. We could find an arms dealer and sell him your weapon so he could copy it and make more. I don’t recall hearing about that kind of rifle before.”

  Cade considered the idea. “Where could we find such an arms dealer?”

  Halifax rubbed his hands
together. “I happen to know about a gent on Sestos III. He’s rough and cagey, but I’m almost certain he’d love your Gyroc. If we can stay alive during the exchange, he’d likely pay us a handsome amount. We could split the profits and make our next decision after that. What do you say?”

  “Is there no other way for us to gain credits?”

  “I’m sure there are hundreds of ways. For instance, we could work honest jobs and save our credits. It would take longer, though, a hell of a lot longer—years.”

  “Yes,” Cade said, “one way or another, I do need credits, and need them now. Very well, let’s give your idea a try.”

  Halifax grinned. He remembered the arms dealer, a man named Tarragon Down. The otherwise crafty dealer had a thing about ancient artifacts. The Gyroc was that. He’d dealt with Tarragon before, too, as a known member of Group Six.

  The doctor grinned. He didn’t intend to return to Earth, but Cade needn’t know that. One or two profitable ventures out here could set him up for life, and with him retaining the spaceship so he could flee far away to safer parts. First, though, he needed a great influx of funds. Yes, using Cade as backup in dealing with Tarragon Down would be wise. Cade could use his portion of the credits to book passage on a starliner, so he really wasn’t cheating the soldier, was he?

  Halifax wasn’t certain he bought his line of reasoning, but he didn’t want to feel guilty, so he stopped thinking about the possibility that he was acting in bad faith.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  The problem with the idea of dealing with Tarragon Down ended up being one of distance. The Sestos System was a long way from their present location and the Intersplit engine kept acting up, hiccupping and stalling. If the Intersplit should hiccup its way to a breakdown, they could find themselves stranded in deep space for the rest of their lives, as it would take decades to reach the next star system without an FTL drive.

  “It’s no good,” Halifax said in the engine compartment, the largest area in the scout. It had been a week since their decision. “I don’t know how to fix the hiccupping.”