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.”
“Wh
at 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.
&nb
sp; “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.
The Soldier: Escape Vector Page 17
