“What? A what? An assault missile? I have no idea. Where did that come from?”
“It’s a memory of mine.”
“Oh,” Halifax said, with his voice finally lowering. A hint of craftiness appeared. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. The destruction of the space station has unsettled me. I don’t want to be a fugitive and I mourn for those who died.” The doctor hunched his shoulders as he stared at the deckplates. He shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe they did this.”
Did the soldier hear genuine grief in the doctor’s voice? Wasn’t the man originally from Helos? No! He couldn’t believe it, Halifax had sidetracked him. Where had the man taken him in a cryo unit the first time?
“I still want to know where you took me after I supposedly nearly died with Rohan’s bullet in my head.”
Halifax looked up. He seemed conflicted, unsure. “You talked about an assault missile. That must have something to do with Anza Drop Troopers. You must be remembering your purged memories.”
“I originated on Earth?”
“So far as I can tell,” Halifax said.
That was the Brune bio, the traveling as a blank until he got smart again, played poker and won Halifax from slavery and they went to the Rigel System in the scout.
“Why would the authorities have sent me away from Earth as a blank?”
Halifax laughed uneasily. “That’s always been the question, hasn’t it? I think that’s why the people I have to keep secret helped heal your head injury. The injustice of your plight intrigued them.”
“No. You’re going to have to do better than that, Doctor. I think you’re lying about all that. I think—” The soldier grabbed the doctor’s left wrist. It was so much smaller than his wrists. The soldier squeezed, grinding bones against each other.
“You’re hurting me,” Halifax wheezed in pain.
“Yes. Prepare for pain.” The soldier grinded the wrist bones together harder, feeling them shift under his grip.
Halifax howled, trying to rip his arm free, but to no avail. “Please, please, stop. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“The truth,” the soldier said in a remorseless voice. “An entire space station full of people has blown up. I want to know why. Your tale of secret people is preposterous. Unless I hear the truth in your voice, I’m going to rip you apart bone by bone and muscle by muscle.”
“I’ve helped you all along the line.”
“Lies,” the soldier said. He continued grinding, deciding to follow through with his threat.
“Please!” Halifax howled. “I’ll talk. I’ll talk. You’re right. I’ve been holding back. Please, quit and I’ll talk.”
The soldier released Halifax’s bruised wrist. “Start talking and don’t stop until I tell you to. If I suspect you’re spinning lies, I’ll break both your arms to show you I mean what I say.”
“Don’t worry,” Halifax panted, as he cradled his throbbing wrist.
“Now!”
The small man jumped in fear, nodding as sweat dripped from his face. “The truth,” he whispered. “Yes. They killed thousands, maybe millions, with this move. The radiation will fall onto my homeworld. That was too much, too far. Yes. I’ll tell you the truth. I’m done keeping their secrets.”
Chapter Nineteen
Dr. Halifax wiped his sweaty brow. “Please bear with me. I can hardly think. The pain is intense.” He indicated his bruised wrist.
The soldier said nothing, just watched the small man with pitiless eyes. The sudden destruction of the space station deeply troubled him. Others sought to use him by warping his mind. He was going to end that no matter what it took.
“You’ve likely never heard the name of Marten Kluge,” Halifax began.
The soldier shook his head.
“There’s a reason for that. Marten Kluge was the ruler of the Solar System long before the invention of the Intersplit Field that gave humanity the stars. In those hazy days, humanity was trapped in the Solar System. Oh, they could leave at sub-light speeds, but even the nearest stars were decades away using that method. That isn’t important to your story, but it sets the stage, so to speak.”
The soldier waited for the doctor to get on with it, but he wouldn’t wait long.
“The history of that era is spotty, as most of the records were destroyed during the death and destruction of the Old Federation.”
The soldier winced and rubbed his forehead. Something in his memory jumped at the mention of that name.
Halifax’s eyes gleamed, but he hooded that almost immediately. “The point about Marten Kluge is this: in his day, scientists and eugenicists created a breed of super soldier called the Highborn. Apparently, the Earthmen of that era wanted to conquer the rest of the independent Solar System. Thus, they made genetically superior soldiers. The Highborn looked around, however, and decided they were better than normal people. In other words, the Highborn decided they would rule. They warred against normal men and were on their way to ultimate victory. At the orders of someone, scientists around Neptune unleashed their cyborg creations. The cyborgs joined the regular humans in their battle against the Highborn. Soon, however, the cyborgs turned on their creators, as they saw that they were superior to everyone—and they were right, at least in terms of fighting abilities. Soon, in desperation, the regular humans and Highborn joined ranks in order to survive the terrible cyborgs.
“The histories don’t tell us how, but Marten Kluge was the winner. The cyborgs lost, and in the end, so did the Highborn.” Halifax shrugged. “Like I said, many of our histories are spotty at best. In time, humanity invented the Intersplit Field—among other various FTL drives—and colonized other star systems. Centuries passed, turning into one millennium after another. Eventually, the Old Federation came into being. We know little about that time, I’m afraid, often less than we know about the times of Marten Kluge.”
“That’s odd.”
“Indeed,” Halifax said. “There’s a reason for that, which I’ll shortly explain. The great expansion into the stars meant that the reckless, adventurous souls left the Solar System in droves. The dull-witted, the slow and the cautious remained on Earth. Over time, with the gene pool depleted, Earth and the Solar System lost its ascendancy over the Old Federation. That bothered the few cunning Earthers left. They decided to take a page from ancient history and develop super soldiers.”
“Like the Highborn?”
“That’s right. The eugenicists and scientists created the first Ultras. As time went on, the soldiers became increasingly inhuman and strange—at least, compared to regular humans. All that led to the Ultra Dominion. Others in the Algol System decided to reinvent cyborgs. Or maybe some of the ancient cyborgs of Marten Kluge’s time had made it there. That is what a few believe. The original cyborgs that fought Marten Kluge reached the Demon Star a thousand years from launch point Neptune. Whatever the truth is, the cyborgs exploded upon the Old Federation, upon the Ultra Dominion of it.”
Halifax shook his head. “History repeated itself, I’m afraid. The cyborgs won battle after battle and system after system. Finally, the lesser Ultras joined with regular humanity and fought back. The few records we have of that time indicate it was a vicious, a monstrous era. Stars exploded. Worlds vanished under asteroid bombardments or thermonuclear saturation assaults. Billions died or were converted into vile cyborgs—”
Halifax paled as he mopped his forehead with a shirtsleeve.
“My friend,” Halifax said, “the Old Federation died in the fires of genocide, asteroid bombardments and thermonuclear detonations. Hundreds of remaining worlds collapsed into stone or bronze ages, forgetting everything they knew about high technology. Instead of using lasers and missiles, they fought on the surviving planets with swords and spears. The records say that a thousand years passed before a few of the worlds began to reinvent the old technologies. The cyborgs and Ultras were gone. No one knew exactly what had happened to them. No one knew how the wider war ended pr
ecisely. We live in a new era without Ultras and without cyborgs.”
The soldier shrugged. “Fine. What does any of that have to do with us, with me?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re bigger and stronger than most people, Brune. Your reflexes are amazing, and your muscles are like steel.”
A cold feeling worked over the soldier. He raised a hand and found it trembling.
“I’ve told you this much,” Halifax said. “I might as well finish it. I’m going to be in big trouble, with a permanent target on my back…” He shrugged, perhaps attempting to appear stoic. Then anger shone in his eyes. “They blew up the space station. They’re irradiating my homeworld. I’m not holding their secrets anymore.”
“Who?”
“Let me start by telling you what happened. Some of the worlds climbed back into higher technology. A few reinvented or found the Intersplit engine that created the Intersplit Field. The first back into space were the wealthier planets. They formed the Concord, which runs the IPO and Patrol. Earth never belonged to that illustrious group, and some Earthmen felt, as the original home point, that they should once again run the whole shebang. Unfortunately for Earthmen, mankind’s prehistoric homeworld was, and is, a seething radioactive cauldron. No one lives on the surface, just deep underground. Some truly clever and hardnosed folk run Earth, however. One of them is Director G.T. Titus of Group Six.”
“None of that means anything to me,” the soldier said.
“I know that. But it does anyway, trust me. Humanity originally began long ago on Earth and in the Solar System. They used up most of the raw materials. Earth resides in a poor star system these days, and Earthmen don’t want to face the tougher, stronger humans out here in the stars, at least in star cruisers. Space battle is prohibitively expensive. Earth can’t afford to fight. So… Earth or Group Six uses spies, the very best they can find. I’m one of their special operatives.”
“You?” the soldier asked, surprised.
“Of course, me,” Halifax said. “I’m useful because I’m resourceful. I’m a survivor.”
“So is a cockroach.”
“You say that as a slur against me, but it’s not. It’s a compliment,” Halifax said, pausing. A moment later, he touched his bruised wrist. “Okay. You suspect me and my motives, and you’re right to. One of the important people of Earth decided to use Ultras as spies and saboteurs—”
“Me?” the soldier asked, interrupting. “I’m an Ultra?”
Halifax nodded.
“But…you said the Ultras died out in the war that killed the Old Federation.”
“I haven’t figured that part out exactly, but I have a good idea, anyway. The Old Federation had superior technology to ours today. One of those superiorities was in stasis units.”
“Wait. Rohan Mars told Brune that the woman woke up from stasis.”
“Now, you’re starting to see it.” Halifax abruptly turned away. He started breathing hard, and he cradled the bruised wrist again.
“What’s wrong now?” the soldier asked.
“You must promise that you won’t kill me.”
“For what you’ve told me, no, I won’t kill you. I also won’t kill you for your part in all this. And I won’t kill you for what you’re about to tell me.”
Halifax hiccupped, nodding shortly. “I guess that will have to do. I, uh, saw you on Old Earth.”
“I thought you said the planet seethed with radiation.”
“I saw you in the tunnels of Old Earth,” Halifax said. “I think they found you in an ancient stasis unit and brought you around, keeping you in a large tube filled with green solution. Brune used to be in one of those, too.”
“Jack Brune really came from Earth?”
“Yeah. He arrived here—on Helos—just like you: in a cryo unit. I fed him a few extra memories, the ones about being a blank on a starliner. Another fake memory was the poker game that won him the Descartes and me.” The doctor breathed deeply. “The destruction of the space station has gotten to me. Earth people did that, at least, I think so.”
“Earth spies freed us from station security?”
“A Group Six team did it,” Halifax whispered. “That’s the name of the secret organization. Director G.T. Titus runs it. He’s the one who told me to take you back to Helos in Brune’s place.”
“What happened to Brune?”
“Rohan Mars shot and killed him like you remember.”
The soldier rubbed his forehead. “How…how did I get Brune’s memories?”
“According to the Director, surgeons in Old Earth put an ancient cyborg device in your brain. It gave you some of Brune’s memories and suppressed most of your real ones. That you’ve subverted the device means it’s not as good as it once was, or you’re a damn stubborn individual.”
“Or both,” the soldier said.
“I suppose that could be the case too.”
“Go on,” the soldier said after a moment.
“I don’t know what else to say. You revived on Helos. You’ve used some of Brune’s memories. And now the Group Six team the Director sent to watch me—watch us—showed up. They killed Clarke with the missile. I don’t know why. And they busted us out of prison on the station. The Director wants to know the identity of the tech company that sent Rohan Mars and he wants to know the identity of the woman that reached Avalon IV.”
“Is that why I want to know who she is?”
“You do?” Halifax asked.
The soldier nodded.
“That’s interesting. You were only supposed to have Brune’s memories. You’re supposed to be Brune in every way.” Halifax shook his head. “I think Group Six killers destroyed the space station, but I don’t know it as a fact.”
“Why do you serve Group Six?”
“At first, it was just for the money. No. It has always been about the money, and staying alive. The Director has threatened to hunt me down and kill me in a gruesome way if I ever divulge what I’ve just told you.”
“Why did you tell me?”
“Two reasons: your threats and the destruction of the space station. I was born on Helos. That explosion will have killed many on the planet.”
The soldier eyed the sensor scope before regarding the little brown doctor. “What’s my real name?”
“I wish I knew, but I don’t.”
“Rohan Mars and his people are androids. Does that in any way connect them to the ancient cyborgs?”
“Maybe.”
“That could be why the Director wants me to go to Avalon IV.”
“Maybe,” Halifax said.
“You don’t think so?”
Halifax shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“If you’re right about me…I could have been in stasis a long time.”
“Yeah. I’ve thought about that. It’s true. You could have been.”
Once more, the soldier rubbed his forehead. “I want you to take the cyborg device out of my brain.”
“Sorry,” Halifax said, shaking his head. “No can do. I think the process would kill you.”
The soldier rose, walking to the large polarized window. He stared at the stars. Who was he? Why did he care so much about the woman waking from the stasis unit? Was he an Ultra, a super soldier from the dim past? He didn’t feel that super. What did he feel about cyborgs? He shuddered. He feared and hated cyborgs, and he did not have a concrete memory about them. He felt the hatred and fear in his guts, though. Did he even belong to this time?
The soldier snorted softly. He was not a philosopher. He had two goals: free himself from false or implanted memories and find the woman on Avalon IV. Group Six, the IPO, the Patrol, Rohan Mars…he didn’t really care about any of them. He meant none of them harm, not right now, anyway.
He faced Halifax, nodded, silently thanking the man for telling the truth. “That wasn’t easy for you, was it?”
“No.”
/> “Can I trust you?”
“You can.”
“Play fair with me, Doctor, and I’ll help you against Group Six.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Do we hightail it far from here, then?”
“No. We’re going to the Avalon System. Even though it has been years since the woman landed on the planet—whatever else happens, I must find her.”
“Why?”
The soldier got a faraway look in his eyes. “I don’t know exactly, but I think I will when I meet her.”
Chapter Twenty
A lifetime of hunting had developed keen instincts in Leona Quillian. She’d barely left the Helos space station in time in a shuttle back for the Sparta spaceport. During the roughest part of the ride through the atmosphere, word reached the shuttle pilot of the horrific destruction.
The space station had been in a geostationary orbit over Sparta. The pilot had immediately changed course for a city on the other side of the planet.
Along with all the other passengers, Quillian heard the report over the intercom from a stunned and stuttering pilot. She had not secretly smiled or silently congratulated herself on a job well done. Instead, something akin to panic had welled in her.
Neither she, nor Group Six, had anything to do with the space station’s obliteration. Along with others in the shuttle, she had sat stunned and disbelieving. The difference in Quillian was the length of time she’d spent in that state.
Her mind unlocked as she’d begun asking herself silent questions. In the end, she concluded that this was the work of the secret tech company, the one that had sent Rohan Mars to Brune.
Why would the tech company want the space station destroyed in such a spectacular fashion?
Quillian walked around a lake with her hands in her pockets. The Corinth spaceport was hidden behind three forested hills. A road linked the lake resort to the city and spaceport. She wore her black one-piece with a jacket against the chill. Cold southern winds blew across the choppy mountain lake.
The entire world was stunned at the news. Only a few IPO officers remained in the Rigel System. The three Patrol spaceships in the system rushed for Helos to help as best they could.
The Soldier: The X-Ship Page 11