BACKTRACKER Milo Fowler (book recommendations based on other books TXT) 📖

Cade on theshoulder. "Now, you won't be able to take your sword with you. We don'twant you accidentally skewering yourself en route. Wormhole turbulence andwhatnot. So you'll have to find a suitable weapon for yourself when you arrivethere—then," he corrected himself.

Cade's kodachi fell from his hand with a clatter.

"Father, she's getting up," Mary warned him.

"Irena?" Horton turned toward her.

"Where am I?" came his daughter's voice, groggy andconfused, from the back room.

"Take care of her, Paul." Horton tossed Paul a tranq gunand he caught it mid-stride, nodding once.

Cade strained violently against the stone his body had become.

"We can't have her interrupting this momentous occasion, canwe? No, that wouldn't be good at all. She can never know, never, never,"Horton lowered his voice. "It would kill her. Because she has a heart. Youand I, on the other hand?" Horton slapped Cade on the back. "Likefather like son!"

No. This cannot be. Cade trembled withinrigid walls of flesh.

"That's right, lad. You're my fourth masterpiece—but morelike the runt of the litter, unfortunately. You came out of the incubationchamber all hairless and white, a dark-eyed albino. Kind of creepy, really. SoI had to make up for your faults with your training, your skills, as itwere. The whole Way-following monk act was a perfect finishing touch." Hechuckled but soon was shaking his head and frowning. "Oh, I know you'rereal upset in there, and I'm sorry boy, I really am. I guess I should've toldyou sooner, like the others. They've always known what they are."

Mary stepped beside him, staring at Cade in wonder, reaching outto touch his cheek and bald dome with her soft fingertips.

Horton smiled at the display of affection. "Looks like yoursister might have a little crush on you!"

"But...I'm not his sister really, am I, Father?" Shefaced him, her fingers lingering at the base of Cade's neck, visible above thefold of his robe.

Horton winked at her in a fatherly way. "No, not really, mydear. No blood relation."

"So we can have sex?"

Horton restrained himself from laughing. "I suppose so, but you'llneed to talk that over with Cade when he returns."

"He is going, then." She looked disappointed. Shereturned her longing gaze to Cade. Her fingertips drifted up to his chin.

"The sooner the better," Paul interjected, tossing thetranq gun onto the table with a thud. "Irena won't be able to takemuch more of this juice before she blacks out for good."

"It will no longer be necessary, once our Cade returns from asuccessful mission." Horton tapped the screen of the wristwatch andstepped away, gesturing for Paul and Mary to give him a wide berth. "Bonvoyage lad, and remember: We're counting on you. The fate of the world is inyour hands." Then as an afterthought, "Oh yeah, and don't take offthe watch for any reason, or you'll be stuck back then. Got it?"

Cade's voice answered: "Yes."

What have you done to me? I will NOT killhim!

"What do you thinkis going on inside that bald head?" Paul askedwith a wry grin.

Horton shrugged. "Who knows?"

They watched as Cade vanished in a blast of electric-blue light.Mary released a short cry of alarm; Paul, a whoop. Peter muttered somethingthat sounded like Good riddance. Cyrus Horton stared into the emptyspace where Cade had stood as if expecting him to reappear at any moment.

It would be a while. Cade had his new directive: Intercept thedelivery of the BackTracker device to Harold Muldoon. Kill Harold Muldoon ifinterception proved to be impossible. Return to the present. Somehow,these orders had been planted in Cade's mind, and he was powerless to overridethem.

What am I? Man? Machine?

He was neither. He was a synthetic being.

How is this possible?

Questions consumedhim, even as his body acted on instinct, stridingwith purpose along the perimeter of the subway tunnel. It had changed. Nolonger the dark bowels of the Underground where bloodthirsty freaks lurked amidlong-forgotten rails. Here, now—twenty years in the past—the NewCity subwaysystem was up and running. As if to solidify this new reality in his mind, atrain whipped past with a mighty roar and flashing lights. Cade's body did notflinch, deep in this cold, subterranean world of concrete and steel. It knewwhere he was going.

He started to run. A white ghost, sprinting along one kilometerafter the next, following a long stretch of tunnel to its source: NewCityCentral. Another train passed him by, then another, threatening to suck himunder its belly with the sheer force of its speed.

Who am I?

All he needed was a weapon. Perhaps there would be a Eurasian giftshop in the hub station. Lethal weapons always made the most-striking gifts,and tourists seemed to love that sort of thing. He hoped the blade itself wouldbe worthy.

Scripture—I must remember the holyscriptures. "I will fear no evil, for You are with me..."

The tunnels passed in a blur. Minutes later, Cade stood in thebustling plaza of the central train station. It was the height of the earlyevening rush, commuters pouring out of the trains one after another, walkingcoats and hats and briefcases and purses with only one destination in mind:home. Synthetics and humans alike, returning to NewCity from their day jobs inthe outlying Provinces. They took no notice of the white monk. They wereaccustomed to seeing such holy men lying in wait to beg off hard-earned creditsfor the sake of the less fortunate. They passed him, some jogging, all brushingpast, a few more forceful than others. He found it difficult not to be swept upin their tide.

In two hours' time, this plaza would be vacant. The ticket kioskswould power down to standby mode. Most of the trains would sit on theirrails, asleep for all intents and purposes. The hidden eyes and ears of thesecurity feeds would watch and listen as shopkeepers closed up for the nightand activated their electric fences. The only trains left to run would do so onthe hour, and the only forms of life in the grand station would be a pair ofsecurity guards on the third floor, kicking back for their dogwatch with a potof bad coffee and a box full of greasy donuts.

Cade found himself gazing up the long flight of steps that led tothe