Cade continued searching with the scope, but found nothing new of interest.
An hour later, Halifax returned.
“What did she say?” Cade asked.
“That she has no idea.”
“That took an hour?”
“No. I ate some lunch and took a short nap in my room. Why, what’s wrong?”
Cade shook his head. Soon, though, he exited the chamber, heading to the gym.
A day passed, then two. Cade spent most of his time at the sensor scope, lifting in the gym or sleeping and reading in his quarters. Halifax spent most of his time at piloting, sleeping and going to talk to Velia. She seldom left her quarters. Cade didn’t ask Halifax about it, and the doctor did not elaborate on the subject.
Perhaps the greatest surprise was that the Tarvoke double never contacted them and certainly made no known attempt to launch missiles after them. That would imply Halifax’s theory had been the correct one: the Rhunes controlled the double, and if the stealth ship existed, its passengers wanted the Descartes whole and running.
The duty rotations were such that Cade and Halifax found themselves together in the piloting chamber again.
Cade had his face glued to the sensor scope, and it had been for hours, maybe even days. The soldier suddenly sat back with an oath. “I can’t find him. I just can’t find one piece of evidence there’s a stealth ship following us. If Uldin is out here with us, I flat don’t know where he is.”
The pocket universe had become a mere gray dot again. It was a surreal feeling to see it like that.
“We’ve batted it about before,” Halifax said. “But I’m going to ask again. Are you sure Uldin’s stealth ship really exists?”
Cade frowned as he considered the question. “Theoretically, I’d say yes, it exists. Why have a dud warhead otherwise? Why the empty shell? Practically, I don’t know anymore. I think I saw a wavering area in space when we were leaving Coad.”
“I believe you did,” Halifax said.
Cade turned to him sharply.
“That doesn’t mean you saw a stealth ship. Cade, a hot battle was taking place then. There was radiation and EMPs spewing everywhere. The instruments must have gone haywire for a time. That’s what you saw.”
“I might agree with you, but Tarvoke found the empty shell. It always goes back to the empty shell. There was a reason it was empty.”
“Maybe,” Halifax said. “Maybe we just haven’t figured out the reason and likely never will. The point is that we haven’t seen any new evidence since the battle. Besides, we’re taking too much on ourselves. If it’s just Uldin and a few others, who cares? I know we talked about this before, but the Rhunes won’t affect us, affect anyone until you and I are long dead. That’s assuming several Rhunes make it to our universe.”
“No,” Cade said, flatly, his face hardening. “I dedicated my life to fighting cyborgs. Rhunes are upgraded cyborgs. I’m not going to be responsible for letting any type of cyborg into our universe if I can help it.”
“That sounds good,” Halifax said. “So tell me. How can you stop what you can’t see or might not exist?”
“I don’t know,” Cade admitted. “There is a stealth ship, though. I can feel it out there, following us. Uldin is waiting to make his move. That’s all.” The soldier pointed at Halifax. “I’ll tell you another thing, too. I’m going to figure out how to thwart him.”
Cade spent the next three and a half hours doing just that, finally giving up and going to the small gym. There, he loaded up a bar and did deadlifts, exalting in the explosive, muscle-draining lifts, enjoying hearing the weights clank against the rubber mat when he released the bar. He sat on a bench at the end of his bout, hunched over and breathing hard. He stared at nothing, his muscles quivering.
How could he defeat Uldin? The Rhune had a masterful stealth ship. They had been traveling with silent running for a time, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the Magister’s vessel was already trailing them, a ghost blip—
Cade straightened. “Of course,” he whispered. The answer was obvious. He wasn’t going to find Uldin’s stealth ship. How did one defeat a genius? Sometimes, the best way was to turn their power against them. That meant letting the genius think he’d won, when in reality—
Cade stood as he chuckled. He had the answer. Now, it was a matter of implementing it.
But he’d have to do it perfectly.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Magister Uldin sat on a reclining seat with a metal headband around his cranium. The chamber was tiny, barely able to hold the seat. There were no screens, no controls before him or on the bulkheads. It was a white room, stark and simplistic and the control center for the wonderful stealth ship.
Uldin was the only Rhune awake on the vessel. The other five were in stasis cells, their bodily functions almost completely stopped. He would wake them once they reached the promised space-time continuum.
Uldin’s narrow chest rose and fell easily. He had few qualms despite the abrupt destruction of the Jinse Tao several days ago. That had been a disaster, in other people’s terminology. Uldin had never planned for that to happen. It would make his dreams more difficult to achieve. He had, however, considered it a possibility, a twenty-three point six nine percent possibility, an almost one in four chance. That was much too high for tolerance. The stealth ship hidden in the missile had been the answer. The stealth ship had an eighty-seven point three two percent probability of success. He had taken it, as he had suspected the presence of a Purple Nagan ka. There had been too many anomalies throughout the years for mere chance to play the main part. The most reasonable explanation had been the alien ka.
Uldin’s chest continued to rise and fall easily. He’d expunged emotions long ago. Pure reason guided his actions.
Here in the control cell he managed all the ship functions. He did it through thought. The neuron impulses in his mind translated through the metal band and to the vessel.
The stealth ship was an experimental craft, one of a kind, partly based on Purple Nagan technology. The latest addition was the Intersplit engine.
Uldin smiled softly, indulgently.
He had observed the Descartes using silent running to pass the gas giant and the cyborg mobile base. Through the ship’s delicate sensors, he had seen the automated cyborg D-waves searching the ether for an enemy to slay. The Descartes had barely slid under the D-waves. A few more percentage points would have seen one and possibly two Raptor 5000 missiles launched at the craft.
That the missiles hadn’t launched had been a welcome relief. If the Raptors had launched—
“No,” Uldin said softly. He was not going to worry about might-have-beens. Logically, that was a waste of brainpower.
After leaving the general area of Sarus, the Descartes had engaged the Intersplit, zooming away for the distant barrier.
At no point during that time had Uldin engaged the stealth ship’s Intersplit. He had done that only when the scout entered the barrier.
Uldin allowed his chest to rise and fall, rise and fall as he considered the next and final step of the operation. He used clever tactics to close the gap between their vessels. Now, he was like an apparition on the Descartes’ tail. There was a thirty-six percent probability that Cade knew about the stealth ship. There was an eleven point six percent probability that Cade knew the ship’s whereabouts.
So far, Uldin hadn’t detected such a thing from the scout’s actions. He could, of course, easily destroy the Descartes. He had several Purple Nagan-designed missiles. One would suffice. He would launch it in the Vellani Rift of the old space-time continuum. First, Cade and his makeshift crew needed to show him the correct vortex.
“You did not fool me,” Uldin whispered. He meant the Purple Nagan ka that had finally shown itself at the end. The sole reason he hadn’t tried harder to flush it out during the years was for this purpose. The ka would know how to choose the correct vortex.
It was even possible the Nagan ka yet existed—a thirty-nine point six pe
rcent possibility.
In the limited time he had known Marcus Cade, Uldin had studied the super-soldier from the Old Federation. The man had impressed him; he possessed fantastic powers of determination and raw stubborn fighting prowess. Could the ka have suborned Marcus Cade? Perhaps there had been a twenty-five to thirty-six percent possibility. The more likely outcome was otherwise.
The key point was the Descartes’ inability to spot the stealth ship. The Nagan ka would have known how. That implied the ka was gone, destroyed most likely.
Uldin opened his eyes, automatically cutting the mental connection with the headband. He no longer saw through the ship’s sensors, but through his natural optical nerves.
With his longer narrow fingers, Uldin removed the headband. He grunted softly as he swung his feet off the couch. He stood, swaying, regaining his balance and the motor control of his body’s muscles.
A hatch opened. He walked down a claustrophobically narrow corridor. He brushed his shoulders against both sides. Only a Rhune could have traversed such a passage. Others would gag and tremble, the squeezing narrowness too much for their fragile egos.
Another hatch opened and he entered a privy. Even Rhunes needed to relieve themselves.
Several minutes later, he exited the privy. Stimulating his muscles by walking was good for the body. That meant it was good for him. Sound body, sound mind. He traversed the exceptionally narrow corridors, traveling throughout the stealth ship. He did it for twenty minutes. Only then did he go to the cell-like gallery. He squeezed paste from a tube, swallowing, squeezing more paste. He sipped from a bulb of liquid concentrates. He ate and drank a precise amount, enough to fuel his machine, his bio-body, but not enough to add unneeded fat to his cells. That would be inefficient, wasteful.
Finally, Magister Uldin returned to the piloting cell. He lay on the long couch, settling himself into place. Then he took the headband and slid it over his cranium. He closed his eyes—
A panorama burst upon his consciousness. He saw in a 360-degree view, the gray realm of this null region. The lighter pocket universe was behind the stealth ship. The vortexes were ahead. Closer to him was the Descartes. It was slightly larger than the stealth ship, had greater room within it, but it did not possess the wondrous technology of Uldin’s vessel.
With a thought, the Magister nudged the stealth ship closer to the scout. What would the super-soldier do if he knew an apparition was following?
Uldin gave the thought his full attention. He worked through possibilities and the counters. Yes, he could do that. Yes, such a move would be correct.
His chest rose and fell easily. The soldier would likely attempt something. It would fail, miserably so. Then, Uldin would be in the new/old space-time continuum. The great program would proceed. It was just a matter of time now for the new race to begin supplanting the old, stupid, grunting, shuffling Homo sapiens.
“Your time is over,” Uldin whispered. “And you’re the one who is going to make it happen, Cade.”
The slightest of smiles appeared. The emotion Uldin felt was that of a superior intellect outthinking his foe. It was not an emotion per se, but the culmination of great brainpower, the satisfaction of thoughts well executed. It was enough for the Magister as he anticipated everything Cade could possibly attempt.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The two men were in the command cabin, Halifax at piloting and Cade at sensors. They had left the pocket universe far behind and neared a different region. It was darker than the gray realm and seethed with continuous but nearly hidden motion.
Cade studied the realm through the sensor scope. If he used zoom and—there, he spied a funnel-shaped object. It swirled madly like a whirlwind in space, and it faded from view even as he observed its action. Another appeared, swirling madly as it fled from the approaching Descartes.
“You’re right,” Cade said while straightening. “How did this realm ever come to be? It’s…eerie and strange.”
“Perhaps the forces from the rips or weakening of various space-time continuums—various existences, if you will—create the energies that cause the vortexes to form.”
“Makes sense to me,” Cade said.
The doctor gave him a worried glance. “Any luck spying a stealth ship?”
“I’ll keep trying,” Cade said in lieu of a direct answer. He put his face to the scope, turning the direction of his search, but like all the other times, he saw no evidence of a Rhune stealth ship.
Time passed as the scout sped toward its destiny. Finally, the Descartes reached the outer vicinity of the vortexes. They hadn’t been able to discover the region’s depth or even if it had one. There were background energies, at times creating purple ion lightning. Did that substantiate the doctor’s theory of released energies from other universes? Cade was beginning to think so.
The Descartes did not run silently, but with all sensors radiating outward, searching for the correct space-time distortion. The Nion XT Navigator was plugged into the sensors, using its unique program to test each of the swirling funnels. So far, the Nion had rejected 173 possibilities. Were there thousands of vortexes, millions or billions? The more there were, the less chance they would find the right one anytime soon.
This could take hours, days, maybe weeks, but if it took months—they could not last for months out here. They would have to return to the pocket universe well before that.
“I’ve been thinking about how to stop Uldin, if he’s following us,” Halifax said. “We could use a thermonuclear warhead, leave it behind us and remote-detonate it. Boom—end of the trailing stealth ship we suspect is following us. We’d have to believe he’s close but detonate it far enough away from us so we’d survive.”
“No,” Cade said. “We’ll defeat him by letting him win; only, he loses instead. That’s the safest course.”
“The trouble is that with your idea is that Uldin survives. That doesn’t sound good to me.”
“You’ve changed your thinking then,” Cade said. “The key is that he won’t survive in our space-time continuum.”
“That means we give someone else our problem.”
Cade scowled. “Why would you possibly care about that?”
“Well…I don’t really. I figured that might move you, though. The truth is that given enough time, Uldin might come after us again. I want to make sure he never can.”
Cade looked up at the ceiling. He wasn’t completely happy with his idea. Uldin—Rhunes in general—were brilliant. If anyone could survive this to haunt their space-time continuum—
No! This is the best we can do. And it means I can keep hunting for Raina.
Cade exhaled forcefully. “Doctor, I can’t possibly be responsible for all existence. That would be taking too much on myself. You said so before.”
“This will be tricky,” Halifax said, with sweat beading his upper lip.
Cade noticed the perspiration. The moment of truth was fast approaching. His gut stirred. For all the marbles, the soldier told himself. We can do this.
Cade cleared his throat. “Remember this, Doctor. We’re the best.”
“Speak for yourself,” Halifax muttered. “Hey! The Nion’s light is blinking red. Is that good or bad?”
Cade glanced at the Nion. It was testing another vortex. The red light continued to blink. “Velia,” he said into the intercom. “Could you come and check the Nion please?”
“I didn’t know you still talked to her,” Halifax said.
“Don’t start with me,” Cade said. “And not now, for Pete’s sake. We have one chance. Concentrate and get your part right.”
Velia entered the piloting chamber short of breath. Had she run through the corridor to get here? She wore her space garb with her hair up.
“What’s the Nion saying about that vortex?” Cade asked her.
“You could have checked the nav yourself,” she said. “You don’t really need me for that.”
“Your expertise in this area is greater than mine,” Ca
de said. “This is it. This could be the moment. I have to prepare if we’re going in.”
Velia hurried to the Nion, pulling out the main board.
Cade turned away sharply because he found himself watching the sway of her hips. What’s wrong with me? I love Raina, not Velia.
Velia studied the readings. “No good,” she said. “The vortex is off by several percentage points.”
“What does that mean?” shouted Halifax.
“I don’t understand your question,” Velia said.
Halifax wiped sweat from his upper lip. “Can you tell what kind of space-time continuum the vortex leads to?”
“Oh,” she said. “Yes. I see. That one isn’t ours. But—the one over there is!” she shouted with glee. “That’s what the Nion was trying to tell you. It’s found the right portal and warning you away from the wrong one.”
“This is it then,” Cade shouted, as he peered into the scope. “What the hell? I can see a wavering in space behind us. The stealth ship exists and it’s right behind us. No! The wavering vanished. Does Uldin know we’ve found the right vortex?” Cade growled as he ground his teeth together. “Start the run, Doctor. Head toward the first vortex. We’re going for it.”
“What’s going on?” Velia shouted in alarm. “I said the second vortex is the right one. The first one is the wrong one.”
“Exactly,” Cade said. “Now, strap in. This could get rough.”
Velia jumped away from the Nion and plopped into the open seat beside Cade. She buckled in and swiveled around to watch him.
“Hang on,” Halifax said, his thin fingers tapping the piloting board. He aimed the Descartes, straight for the first vortex, increasing speed.
“Don’t you understand me?” Velia shouted. “It’s the wrong vortex. It won’t take us where you want to go.”
“We know that,” Cade said, with his hands poised over a panel. “That’s the whole point. Now, shut up and let us do this.”
The vortex grew before them, a swirling madness, the chaos impinging onto their eyeballs. The scout began to shake as it entered the funnel’s slipstream.
The Soldier: Escape Vector Page 30