The Soldier: Final Odyssey Page 17

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Drang hunched forward in her chair as spiking pain throbbed in her forehead. It was nearly debilitating pain that had sprung to life as the Patrol flotilla ran for cover.

  In the distance, the originally launched and deliberately staggered antimatter missiles continued to detonate every few minutes, providing the Patrol vessels with blocking whiteouts so the enemy ships couldn’t target them.

  There was encrypted chatter between the Illustrious and space station, but the lifter’s comm operator lacked the means for breaking in and understanding what they said.

  “What should we do?” the chief pilot asked Drang.

  The Arbiter waved him off as she massaged her forehead. The Intelligence operatives glanced at Drang before threatening the pilot with their guns.

  “I’m asking for instructions,” the pilot said in a whiny voice. “Should I head for the space station?”

  “No,” Drang said with her eyes closed. “The planet, go around the planet.”

  “You mean back onto the other side?”

  “Yes.” Drang opened bleary eyes, stood, swayed and staggered toward the hatch. “Make sure he maneuvers around the planet,” she told the operatives.

  “Should I land back at the Spaceport?” the pilot asked.

  “No,” Drang whispered. She peered blearily at her operatives. “I’ll be back soon. I have…I need to think for a few minutes. Make sure he obeys my instructions.”

  With that, Drang staggered out of the piloting chamber to where she kept her personal kit. The headache had worsened, making her eyesight blurry. She went to her knees as she rummaged in her kit. Several Intelligence people in the room glanced at her.

  She opened a special purse, staring into the depths. She saw a sealed envelope, grabbed it and tore it open. She wasn’t sure why, but the contents of the envelope were critical. She opened it wider and stared at a large green pill. It was monstrous, but…but…

  Drang surged to her feet. “Water, I need water.”

  An operative found a water bottle, twisting off the cap and giving her the open bottle.

  Drang held it in one hand and the giant green pill in the other. Why had she been carrying this huge pill? Why would the headache force her here? Had she preplanned this?

  With a shaking hand, she placed the pill in her mouth and guzzled water, using her tongue to hold the pill to one side. When she had enough water, she tilted her head and released the pill so it went to the back of her throat. She swallowed the water, washing the pill into her gullet.

  Afterward, she sat with a groan, waiting. Time seemed to pass sluggishly with each beat of her heart.

  “Are you well, Arbiter?” one of her people asked.

  “Wait,” she whispered. “Give me a few minutes.”

  The minutes passed, and it felt as if the first tendrils of relief tickled upward to her tormented mind. Then she arched her neck and screamed, collapsing afterward as sweat oozed from her pores. The agony in her mind intensified. She shivered. She coughed weakly and felt the people around her watching fearfully.

  “Arbiter, what should we do?” asked one.

  “Nothing,” Drang managed to whisper. “Wait. Give me a few more minutes.”

  She realized she should have done this in the bathroom where no one could witness it. This would hurt morale, but it couldn’t be helped now. The pain—

  Walls seemed to collapse in her mind. Instead of causing agony, it brought cooling relief. The headache began to recede. More interior mind-walls went down, and an amazing realization struck home.

  She was not Arbiter Ira Drang. She was Chief Arbiter Iris Dragonfeld of Quartz Sector, one of the highest-ranking Intelligence officers of the Patrol. She was on a top-secret mission. The subterfuge had been her idea as she went undercover, in a sense, into one of the potentially worst cases in Patrol history. A secret tech company with possible connections to the ancient and horrific cyborgs had been sending agents to the Therduim System via the smugglers. This tech company had sent operatives to Avalon IV and had possibly caused the destruction of the Helos space station in the Rigel System. Patrol Intelligence considered this a worst-case scenario. With the appearance of an ancient cyborg lurker—

  Chief Arbiter Dragonfeld looked up at the worried faces surrounding her. She would maintain her aspect of Arbiter Ira Drang for the moment. Monitor Varo had known her real identity, but that had been it. No, telling them she was really Iris Dragonfeld would not help matters.

  What had brought about the headache? She nodded. The long-range enemy vessels combined with the sighting of a lurker, and the relics on the station. Yes. This was a dire situation indeed. That must have tripped posthypnotic commands in her mind.

  “Are you all right now, Arbiter?” a man asked.

  “Yes,” she said, perhaps too forcefully. Iris Dragonfeld possessed one of the keenest minds in Patrol Intelligence. She did not have psi-talents, but she did have uncanny hunches. She could not have passed as Ira Drang if she’d maintained the full force of her real personality. She’d climbed to her present position through exalted intellect and uncanny guesses. Now—

  Dragonfeld dipped her head. She had more assets in the system. Yes, yes, she remembered now. A grim smile stretched her lips. The Illustrious had been assigned to the space station at her request. She had codes that could render the cruiser inoperative if she desired. And she had another ship deeper in the system. It was on standby.

  The Chief Arbiter of Quartz Sector narrowed her gaze. What about Cade and Halifax?

  She laughed sourly to herself. Given their past actions, it was obvious they were exactly what they said they were. Krenz had been a fool to trust Halifax. Was Cade a similar fool? No. That one was different. He was a driven man, a driven superman.

  Could Cade help her here?

  She whirled around to stare at the three operatives. They eyed her uneasily, two men and a woman. They were good agents. They would do as ordered.

  “Where’s Hemlock?” she asked.

  “Uh, staying with the equipment as ordered,” the woman said.

  “I’ll see him myself. Get Cade and bring him there. Then, get the others. Move,” she said.

  The three jumped, hurrying to obey her commands.

  ***

  Soon, Chief Arbiter Dragonfeld recited a verbal, coded sequence. Hemlock’s shoulders slumped with relief as she finished.

  “You’re back,” the small man said.

  “Yes,” she said. “Send this message into deep space.” She handed him a scrawled note.

  Hemlock glanced at it and nodded as he began to unpack a unique comm unit.

  “Once you’re done, bring your equipment to the A-Four Compartment.”

  Hemlock nodded once more.

  Dragonfeld hurried for the exit. She had one more chore to perform before talking to Marcus Cade.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  With the barrels of their guns, Patrol Intelligence personnel prodded Cade down a short corridor into a different compartment, leaving Halifax by himself. In the new room, a small, hunched man set up a portable comm unit complete with screen. He manipulated it and then sat back, waiting.

  Moments later, tall Ira Drang swept into the compartment.

  Cade frowned. There was something different about her, something electric and ferocious. It showed in the way she walked, how she held herself and the fire in her eyes. Energy seemed to radiate from her, as if she might levitate off the deck as rays poured from her fingertips.

  Arbiter Drang began to tell him about the aerosol cloud, the missiles, enemy warships and the long-ranged lasers. She explained how the Patrol flotilla had fled from the enemy.

  “What about us?” Cade asked. “What happens to us?”

  “You don’t seem worried by what I’ve told you about what’s going on out there,” Drang said.

  “No. I’m worried.”

  “You don’t show it.”

  Cade sensed more than ever the change in
Drang.

  Perhaps she felt his scrutiny. She snapped her fingers and pointed at the hunched man. He perked up.

  “Show us the space station,” Drang said.

  “I can’t yet,” the small man said, “as we can’t see it from our present location.”

  Drang marched to a wall comm, pressed it and gave new orders to the piloting crew.

  “You seem to have anticipated the present events,” Cade said.

  Drang shook her head. “Well?” she asked the hunched man.

  “I have a visual,” he said.

  “Come and look at this,” Drang said.

  Cade did so. A large aerosol cloud was growing before the space station. Giant tubes sprayed the aerosols, adding to the mass. The Illustrious and destroyer maneuvered into position behind the space station relative to the approaching enemy vessels.

  “They’re making a stand,” Cade said. “The enemy should have burned away the cloud with their long-range lasers. Why aren’t they?”

  “If I’m correct, the enemy wants the cyborg relics aboard the station. Those relics are a much greater protection than the aerosol sand hull plating.”

  “Do you know the enemy’s identity?” asked Cade.

  “Chief Arbiter,” the hunched man said excitedly.

  Drang glared at him.

  “Excuse me,” the hunched man said. “I mean, Arbiter, I’ve intercepted communications between the approaching warships and space station.”

  “Show us,” Drang said.

  The hunched man tapped his board, and the small screen beeped. Seconds later, it showed a short man with porcelain-white skin and thin black hair swept to the left. He wore black-tinted goggles—the lenses were perfectly circular, and the bands fit snugly around his head.

  “Rohan Mars,” Cade said in wonder.

  Drang glanced sharply at Cade. “You know him?”

  “I do. He’s an android. I don’t understand what he’s doing here.”

  “So…” Drang said. “An android would indicate agents of the secret tech company are operating the warships. Yes, this is beginning to make more sense.”

  The android Rohan Mars—if that was who he was—spoke directly to Egon Krenz. It appeared the Sub-Protector had launched a relay unit to the side of the station, giving them direct access to the enemy ships by bypassing the new aerosol cloud.

  The two dickered for the relics presently on the station. Rohan offered an amount that Krenz tried to raise. Soon, Rohan agreed to the new amount.

  “Now, how do we achieve the transfer?” Krenz asked.

  “The eternal question,” Cade said with a slight smile.

  “Instead of regular credit notes,” Rohan said, “I can pay in platinum cubes worth the same amount.”

  “That will work,” Krenz said. “However, if your ships continue on their present course, I will reluctantly be forced to destroy the relics before your arrival.”

  “That would be most unwise,” Rohan said. “If you destroy the relics, we will have no alternative but to destroy you.”

  “Such being the case,” Krenz said, “your ships should cease their approach.”

  “Let us first come to an understanding. You do agree that we have the ability to destroy your station and ships.”

  “Your lasers reach farther than ours. Is that sufficient for victory?” asked Krenz. “I am unconvinced.”

  “Perhaps, then, another demonstration is in order.”

  Krenz shook his head. “Sir, this is a futile impasse. We each have what the other wants. You desire the relics. I the platinum cubes. How can we make the exchange so it works for both of us? That’s the real question.”

  “I’m also interested in the relics on the planet,” Rohan said.

  “It’s interesting that you should ask about them, as I’m presently awaiting their arrival on the station.”

  “Do you refer to the heavy lifter?” Rohan asked.

  “Now, see here. I demand to know how you’re aware of all this. Is Dr. Halifax one of your agents?”

  Rohan sat fixedly, no part of him moving until he asked, “What did you just say?”

  “Dr. Halifax,” Krenz repeated.

  “He’s there?”

  “No. Halifax is on the planet—well, on the heavy lifter bringing the extra relics. I’m frankly surprised he hasn’t reached the station yet.”

  “Halifax…is there a bigger man with him?” Rohan asked.

  “Do you mean Marcus Cade?”

  “Well, well, well,” Rohan said. “The Master was correct.”

  “Master?” asked Krenz.

  “Never mind about that,” Rohan said. “I will double the amount of platinum if you send them to me, alive. I want them both alive. You must deliver Cade and Halifax to me.”

  Krenz rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  On the heavy lifter in the compartment, Drang turned to Cade. “Why does the android want you two?”

  “I’m wondering that myself. I killed him, you see. This must be a different Rohan-Mars unit. I wonder if they gave him the old one’s memories. That would mean events have come full circle.” Cade’s head swayed. “Wait a minute. The lurker must be related to all this. Perhaps the Master that Rohan referred to is the cyborg leader aboard the lurker.”

  “Will the android actually make the payment?”

  “Why not?” Cade asked. “It wants the relics, and now it wants Halifax and me. What are a few pieces of platinum compared to conquering the galaxy?”

  Drang glanced at him sidelong.

  “What?” asked Cade. “Are you thinking about cashing in by selling me to the android?”

  “No,” Drang said. “The cyborg menace—it’s obviously very real. I suspect it’s the greatest present threat to the Concord.”

  “I’d agree to that.”

  Drang put a finger to her lips. “Shh. It’s getting interesting again.”

  The two had been debating payment options. Krenz now agreed to send out a shuttle loaded with the relics, and another with Halifax and Cade, once he captured them. In exchange, Rohan Mars must send the platinum cubes in a drone directly to the station. Both vessels would be rigged with explosives in case the other side tried to cheat.

  “If you will please notice,” Rohan said. “Our ships are braking. You must capture Cade and Halifax at once so we can complete the exchange in a single run.”

  “They’re supposed to be here any minute,” Krenz said. “Yes, I see that you’re braking. That’s a wise move, sir.”

  “My patience is limited, however,” Rohan said. “Acquire the Ultra and his fellow traveler quickly, or events will move beyond my control. The Master desires those two even more than he desires the relics.”

  “What’s so important about them anyway?”

  “That is no concern of yours,” Rohan said primly. “We are braking, but the ships can just as well accelerate into an assault formation. Forty-five time-units: that is all I will give you.”

  “What?” Krenz asked.

  “Forty-five minutes,” Rohan said. “My Master will give you no more time. If you fail to acquire Cade and Halifax in that time, he will enter the fray directly. In that case, all of you will enter his service much sooner than you anticipated.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Krenz demanded.

  “That you accelerate your timetable and capture Cade and Halifax,” Rohan said.

  “Yes, yes, I’ve already given orders to that effect. I’m told the lifter has almost reached docking position.”

  “For your sake, I hope you are telling the truth.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Arbiter, or should I say Chief Arbiter?” asked Cade, glancing at the small, hunched man at the special comm unit.

  Drang glowered at the small man. He became even busier with his communications equipment. “Titles don’t matter now,” she said.

  “Perhaps not,” Cade said, “but authority does. If you’re a chief arbiter, I expect you have more authority than I p
reviously realized.”

  Drang shrugged. “What’s your point?”

  “Clearly, the Master desires my capture. That would be a bad thing for all involved.”

  Drang’s intense eyes seemed to burn with understanding. “You hold information the cyborgs desire, greatly desire. If that’s so, I should have you shot so they never acquire the data.”

  “That would produce a negative result instead of a positive one,” Cade said.

  “But a better result than having the so-called Master capture you,” Drang said. “He or it certainly resides in the hidden lurker.”

  “No doubt there,” Cade said. “I suspect the lurker linked up with secret tech-company smugglers. Where or how the lurker cyborgs learned about me…” Cade grew quiet as a realization struck.

  “What now?” Drang asked.

  Cade shook his head.

  “No,” Drang said sharply. “That’s not good enough anymore. I’m on the cusp of making a dreadful decision. Give me further reason to trust you, to let you live.”

  “I was wondering why cyborgs would be so intent upon my capture. The only thing I’m coming up with is the Vellani Rift.”

  “I’m familiar with the stellar region. It lies almost two hundred light-years from here. It’s a vast nebula, uncharted in places. How could it be important to cyborgs?”

  “There’s a strange phenomenon in the rift, a vortex that’s a gateway to a pocket universe. Sometime during the War, Ultras and cyborgs, including Rhunes, went through the vortex. If the Master wants the old war-tech there, might he want to know how to find and use the vortex in order to reach the pocket universe?”

  “You know all this because you used the vortex and went to this pocket universe?”

  “I did,” Cade said.

  “How would the Master know you know about the vortex?”

  Cade nodded. “That’s the question. I suspect the secret tech company has something to do with that. Maybe it has a large spy network. I’m thinking someone must have questioned Tarragon Down or a young woman named Velia who I left on an Amklana space station.”