Cade stood with his arms folded, scowling down at an open access hatch showing various coded indicators in blue lettering. The doctor had used the manual and tinkered with the Intersplit settings. That had made things worse instead of better.
“I thought DMR had fixed the Intersplit,” Cade finally said.
“I thought so, too,” Halifax said. “It seems they fooled us both.”
“It’s too risky for us trying to get all the way to the Sestos System with the Intersplit like this.”
Halifax fingered his chin before saying, “I think you’re right. We’ll have to reset it back to how it was and limp along.”
Cade scoffed. “You brought me here precisely to show me this. You have a proposal, I warrant—one I’m not going to like. This is the inducement to get me to agree.”
Halifax glanced at him. “Well…I do have an idea—if you want to hear it.”
“Uh-huh,” Cade said. “I knew it. Sure. Let’s hear your idea.”
“If you feel that way about it, perhaps you really don’t want to hear.”
Cade waited.
Halifax finally cleared his throat. “Since I said I’d tell you, as a man of my word I will. The Durdane System is twenty-three light-years away. I happened to check the navigational chart before coming back here in order to make certain. I know of a place on Durdane II we could take the scout for repairs.”
“And they’ll fix the Intersplit engine?”
“As good as gold,” Halifax said.
Cade eyed the duplicitous doctor. “I might as well ask, since I know there is one. What’s the catch?”
“The same as always: credits. For us, it always comes down to scraping together enough monies for the needed repairs.”
Cade nodded. He’d known that. There was obviously something more. He waited for the doctor to spit it out.
Halifax also waited, finally licked his lips, smiled and spread his hands. “It won’t be as much of a problem as ordinary on Durdane. I suspect all you’ll have to perform is a small task for a friend of mine.”
“I doubt that…” Cade said. “Not a small task, but a dirty one, like killing someone.”
“Now that you mention it, killing might be a distinct possibility.”
A light went on in Cade’s brain. “Wait a minute. Are you talking about a Group Six station?”
“Would that make a difference?”
“You want me to pretend I’m a contract killer for hire and would hire out to Earth Intelligence, the people that used me like an automaton?”
“The word is cleaner, not killer. You’d be a contract cleaner. I’m almost certain they’d have a job for you.”
“You want me to murder others so we can keep the scout running?”
“Hey, Cade, what’s the big deal? You’re a soldier. You killed plenty of people this time around. Killing is your trade, no, your art form. There shouldn’t be a problem with this, right?”
The soldier moved fast, his right hand catching Halifax by the throat. Cade grunted, lifting the man one-armed off the floor so the doctor’s eyes were level with his. The soldier’s look of disgust was eloquent and final. With a heave, Cade cast Halifax sprawling onto the deckplates.
Halifax coughed as he massaged his throat.
“Despite what many think,” Cade said thickly, “a soldier isn’t a killer, a murderer—although there are times he kills in the line of duty. I will not coldly murder possible innocents for money like an assassin, and especially not for Earth Intelligence.”
Halifax raised a hand from on the floor. “Forget I mentioned it,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Still, we need credits for repairs. Do you have any other ideas?”
After a second of contemplation, Cade moved closer and silently held out a hand.
The doctor studied the hand and finally reached out. Cade pulled Halifax to his feet.
“I do have an idea,” Cade said. “It works on a similar principle.”
“I don’t understand. You’re not a…a cleaner you just said.”
“Surely, as a Group Six case officer far from Earth you’re privy to emergency funds.”
“Oh no,” Halifax said, as he shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re suggesting. Do you think Group Six has masses of credits it just freely hands out to its operatives? Accountants carefully track all expenditures. In time, an agent must give a full account and reason for using Earth funds. If the Chief Accountant finds an error—” The doctor shook his head again, more vigorously this time.
“Wouldn’t the Director want to know what happened on Avalon IV? Wouldn’t that be worth the emergency funds it cost for him to hear?”
“Cade! You don’t get it. I’ve done as well as I have because I get the jobs done while keeping costs down. You have no idea how—”
“Doctor,” Cade interrupted. “I’m not buying it. What you’re really telling me is that you don’t intend to remain a Group Six case officer. Therefore, you fear cheating the agency lest the Director send—cleaners to kill you later. That means your idea about traveling to Earth was false. It’s about time you tell me your real intentions.”
Halifax stared at him. “For a mountain of muscle, you sure do a lot of thinking. You’re wrong, though. There are serious complications tapping into Group Six emergency funding. It would be a risk for both of us. For one thing, it would put us on the charts, so to speak. I want to slip onto Earth unnoticed, But you and this damned scout are forcing my hand.” He stared at Cade. “There is one other…detail you may not realize. You guessed close to the bone a few days ago. Some of the Ultras have escaped their control chips before. That means teams are out here whose primary purpose is recapturing Ultras and bringing them back to Earth so they can become agents again.”
“Tools, you mean,” Cade said grimly, “tools with new obedience chips in their brains. When were you going to tell me this?”
“I just did.”
“When did you plan to?”
“Sooner or later,” Halifax mumbled. “Let’s not make a big deal about it, huh?”
Cade thought about that. “Agreed. Let’s make a foolproof plan for collecting emergency funding. Then, let’s head to Durdane II, collect the needed credits and get the Intersplit working like it should. After that, we can be on our way.”
Halifax turned and touched his bruised throat. “Okay,” he said. “You’re forcing my hand. It’s not smart or wise. But this time, I don’t see an alternative. So let’s start planning as you suggested. We do this once, and we do it right.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
The first twenty light-years to the Durdane System went smoothly enough. The last three were a nightmare of stop-go, stop-go-stop and waiting once for a week as Halifax tinkered with the Intersplit engine settings. Finally, however, the little scout that did, reached the Durdane System. It was heavily populated, one of the more powerful Concord members in this part of the Orion Arm.
A Patrol cruiser stopped them in the Kuiper Belt, going so far as to board and inspect the vessel. The bill of sale and purchase of the scout passed muster. They were asked about the incident in the Rigel System. Both men claimed no knowledge, and both men passed the lie detector test. Luckily, Halifax had known how to reset the automatic ship’s log, showing the Descartes leaving the Rigel System three weeks before the Helos space station blew up.
The voyage to Durdane II was routine after that. They gained orbital clearance, paying for a 48-hour pass. Once the 48 hours expired, they would have to leave unless they gained enough credits to purchase more orbital time or paid enough to dock at one of the space stations circling the green and yellow planet.
“Now it gets tricky,” Halifax said in the piloting chamber.
“We have our plan,” Cade said. “Let’s stick to it and leave it at that.”
Halifax produced his bank transfer card, a piece of plastic with the needed data encoded within. “This is the extent of our funding right here,” he said, shaking the card. “Once the funding
is gone, I’ll have to sell the scout.”
“Doctor, why are you hesitating?”
Halifax looked up into Cade’s eyes. “I have a premonition. Something is going to go wrong down there.” He inclined his head toward the yellow desert on the planet below.
“Frankly,” Cade said, “I’m glad you feel that way. Every soldier does before a planetary drop. It helps keep him focused on what matters. Stick to the plan. If it fails, switch to the backup. We’ve planned for most eventualities.”
“Cade, do you trust me?”
“As far as I can throw you,” the soldier said.
Halifax touched his throat. “Well, I trust you with my ship. I’ve been wondering if you have secret funds and are waiting for me to leave so you can go your own way with the Descartes.”
“Doctor…if that was my plan, I wouldn’t bother waiting for you to go. You can do me more harm running free, going to Group Six with deadly intent against me than you would remaining in my company.”
“I guess that’s true. Oh. The orbital shuttle is here.”
Through the polarized window, a big white shuttle maneuvered toward them.
Halifax held out his hand. Cade took it and they shook. Afterward, the two headed to the inner lock.
Soon, a shuttle tube linked with the scout’s outer exit hatch. A green light glowed. The soldier opened the inner hatch and watched the doctor enter, closing the hatch behind him. He wondered if the man could do his part as promised, as well as what the premonition really meant for the two of them.
***
Halifax took one of the few empty seats on the crowded shuttle. He was thoughtful during reentry. He rechecked his motives at the spaceport as he purchased a rocket-plane seat for Garwiy, the system capital. The Group Six station was in Garwiy, known as the head office for Roguskhoi Metals of Jardeen.
He’d been a case officer for Earth Intelligence for many years. He’d earned plenty of credits and lived an interesting life. Did he really mean to defraud Group Six? If the Director discovered that, G-6 killers would likely trail him for the rest of his life.
In truth, Halifax hadn’t made his final decision regarding what he would tell Cade. Depending on the day, he had a different idea. Cade was an interesting Ultra, almost normal in some ways. Halifax could see ways to make a bundle using the super-soldier. The key, he decided, as the rocket plane came in for a landing at Garwiy International, was to remain flexible. In other words, he’d keep his options open for now.
He exited the large rocket plane and walked through the busy terminal. Outside, he hired a minicab to drive him to the city’s financial district.
The ride there was uneventful. The financial district boasted large glass towers that glittered with the rays from the two stars or suns. Clouds drifted in the pink sky as minicabs and motorized pacers jostled for position on the streets. There were horns, whistles and the occasional driver leaning out to shake his fist at those he thought recklessly stupid.
Upon exiting the minicab, Halifax paid a small tip, reclaimed his bank transfer card and went to a sidewalk kiosk where he purchased a tall mug of ale and roasted fen meat. Fortified for the deception, he walked briskly and entered the Octagon Tower. There, he took an elevator up to the 12th Floor. He reached a round lobby desk with an attractive orange-haired woman standing behind it. She smiled and asked him his business.
“This is Roguskhoi Metals, is it not?” Halifax asked.
“Yes, sir, it is.”
Halifax nodded. “I want to start a RM franchise on Palasadran.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He lowered his voice. “Check your code book.”
Seemingly confused, the woman opened a drawer and took out a small black book, flipping pages. “What was the name again, sir?”
“Palasadran.”
Her finger ran along a list of words. The finger stopped, and she looked up sharply. “Uh…if you’ll wait there in a chair, sir, I’m sure a RM representative will be along shortly to speak with you.”
“Thank you,” Halifax said, going to a plush seat, sitting and waiting.
Several minutes later, two beefy security men with thick necks and wearing Garwiy business suits approached.
“Are you Dr. Halifax?” the larger of the two asked, a man with bitter gray eyes.
The doctor stood and held out his hand.
“Come with us,” the larger security man said, as he ignored the hand.
They walked briskly down a carpeted hall, entering the door at the end. The room contained three more doors. They took the one on the left, escorting Halifax to what looked like a police questioning room. There, Halifax found himself sitting on a steel chair as the two bruisers stepped back against a wall behind him.
A tall pale man in a brown suit and an aristocratic air entered. He did not use the other chair in the room, but switched on a bright swirling multicolored light aimed at Halifax’s eyes as he began questioning the doctor.
Halifax squinted, occasionally holding up a hand against the swirling lights, as they failed to hypnotize him as obviously intended. He spun a tale close to the truth, but with revisions as agreed earlier by Cade and him. According to the story, he had an injured and sedated Jack Brune aboard the scout. He was in a hurry to get Brune back to Earth and the Director as quickly as possible. For that, he needed an influx of credits to repair the Intersplit engine and any other possible emergencies along the way home. Halifax was certain the Director would want the scout, as it contained several cyborg items from Avalon IV sealed away for safekeeping.
The tall pale man asked many questions designed to trip up Halifax. That did not happen. At last, the pale man allowed himself the faintest of smiles as he switched off the hypnotic light. “All appears to be in order.”
“Excellent,” Halifax said. “If you could begin the transfer—”
“Just a moment, please,” the man said, extracting a small flat comm unit from his breast pocket. “I have a call.” The man put the unit against his left ear, listened and said, “Yes. Yes, I believe so.” He glanced at Halifax. “Right here,” the pale man said. “Ah. I see. Of course, it’s no problem at all. I’ll inform him.”
The man put away the slender comm device. He was no longer smiling. “If you’ll wait here, Doctor.”
“Is something wrong?” Halifax asked, knowing it was.
“All will become clear shortly,” the pale man said. He looked up and snapped his fingers. A moment later, he, along with the two security men, left the room.
Halifax heard the lock snick as they closed the door. He didn’t like this. Who had been on the comm? Why had the others left him by himself? What complication had just occurred?
Stay calm, Halifax told himself. Whatever it is, you can handle it.
The next ten minutes tested that belief. Finally, however, the lock snicked again and the door opened.
Halifax sat up, and his eyes goggled in disbelief. It was the dark-haired woman, the one he’d seen at the Sparta tourist shop, and more importantly, the one who’d helped him escape detention at the space station and gain access to the scout. She wore a metallic one-piece and seemed older than the last time he’d seen her.
She stopped short, perhaps not liking how he stared at her. She finally closed the door behind her, took the other chair and sat down so their knees almost touched.
“You’ve seen me before,” she said in a low voice.
“What are you talking about?” Halifax asked. “Don’t you remember the last time we spoke?”
“Tell me about it.”
“Whatever for?”
She stared at him coldly. “Dr. Halifax, I’m the one asking the questions. You desire a large influx of funds. But it appears to me that you’re on the run. I want to know why.”
He stared at her, not sure what to say.
She leaned back. “I’m Leona Quillian, the original.”
“Huh?”
“Are you truly that dense? Don’t you unders
tand the situation yet?”
Slowly, Halifax shook his head. This was a complication, maybe a truly bad one. Just what was going on here?
“I’m the Director’s cleaner,” she said quietly, “the one on your case.”
Halifax felt faint but tried not to show it. He smiled. It was a sickly thing. “The Director ordered a hit against me?”
“A conditional hit,” she said.
“I don’t understand.”
“If you failed to follow orders,” Quillian said, making a slicing motion across her throat.
“But I followed orders to the letter,” he said, his voice rising.
Quillian smiled faintly. “Somehow, I doubt that. Yet, you’re alive, so...”
“But why a hit? I have Brune in the ship under sedation. I collected several cyborg artifacts.”
“The Helos space station was destroyed while you were there,” Quillian said. “The report says that radioactive debris scattered over a large part of the planet.”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“I didn’t say you did. Who did?”
“I don’t know. Why ask me?” Halifax said. “You were there. You would know better than I do.”
She stared at him.
“What?” Halifax asked, too loudly he realized. He needed to calm himself. “What did I say wrong?”
Quillian sighed. “Really, Doctor, you’re making this difficult. If you would just come clean, I could reconsider the need to eliminate you.”
“Brune went to the planet!” he shouted. “He did what the Director wanted. We’re on our way to Earth to deliver the goods.”
Quillian leaned forward and touched one of his knees.
Halifax jerked as something sharp pricked him through the pants fabric. He leaned forward, shoving her hand out of the way and rubbed his wounded knee. “What did you just do to me?”
Quillian leaned back, watching him.
“I’m leaving,” he said, getting up.
Quillian stood, too, and shoved him back down onto the chair.
Halifax felt lightheaded, landing on his butt with a thump. “You drugged me,” he accused.
The Soldier: The X-Ship Page 28
