by T. R. Harris
Riyad came out of his office, wearing a neatly pressed and tailored version of the official Enforcer uniform; a high-collar, one-piece grey garment with a wide utility belt around the waist and a starburst logo on the left breast. Riyad had been instrumental in the design of the uniform, and he wore it with pride and aplomb.
“I thought I heard your bitching out here,” he said as he stepped up to Adam and offered his hand. There was a noticeable confidence and calm with Riyad these days. Adam attributed it to his friend’s natural affinity as a leader rather than a merchant. He much preferred to be in command than kissing up to finicky customers who were never satisfied. Dissolving his outfitting business was the best thing to happen for his mental well-being.
“If I ain’t bitching, that means I don’t care,” Adam replied with a sad grin. He was exhausted and just wanted to make his rounds and head home. He then remembered Arieel was waiting for him. So much for getting rest… “How’s recruitment coming?” he asked. “It’s reaching the critical stage.”
Riyad shrugged. “We’re doing the best we can. We’re trying to lure some Priority Acquisitions people away, as well as appealing to every military this side of the Core. The money Sherri’s willing to allocate to us is helping, but it still takes time to get them over here, interviewed and then up to speed for those who make the cut.”
“And Humans, how’s that going?”
Adam was gone for only twelve days, but at the pace things were moving on Navarus, that seemed like a lifetime.
Riyad flashed Adam his trademarked white smile. “Pretty good. Sixteen new ones are on the way. Whether they pan out or not’s another question. But it seems to be in our nature to gravitate to this kind of work. After all, back home we’re just normal people. It’s not until we come out into the galaxy do we become Supermen.”
“Just make sure we don’t hire any homicidal maniacs. Remember, we’re the law in the Dead Zone. We can’t be worse than the criminals.”
Adam saw the glimmer of humor in Riyad’s eyes, as the memory of nearly thirty years of often questionable activities passed between the two men. Adam chose to close the subject.
“Okay, good work everyone. I’m going to swing by the bar on my way home.”
All four of his Human friends produced identical—and lecherous—grins. They knew what awaited their fearless leader when he got to his home. The envy was evident in their reactions.
It was only a five-minute walk down the street and across Lan Road to Capt. Cain’s Bar & Grill. His official office was in Riyad’s old outfitting warehouse, but he passed it by and went straight into the bar. Besides wanting to check on the operations, he could sure use a stiff drink before facing Arieel, and maybe some stimulants, as well.
Kaylor and Jym were at the long, polished bar on the northside of the huge dining room and they acknowledged him immediately. Then Kaylor nodded toward one of the tables out on the sandy beach behind the tavern. Adam went outside to greet the patron.
He came up behind the huge, slumped-shouldered Human with a variety of fading tattoos on his tree-trunk-sized arms. Adam had never seen him wear shirts with sleeves, so the hairy, tanned skin made him look even more intimidating than he was.
Adam placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and then sat down next to him.
“Good to see you, Master Chief,” he said to Monty Pitts. The man gazed at him through glassy eyes, looking both pleased and frustrated at the same time.
“Capt’n, you’re back. They said you’d gone off to kill another batch of deserving aliens. I wish I’d gone along. This endless search for Eldorado is driving me mad.”
“So, no luck?”
“Nah, and I can’t see why not.”
Jym shuffled up and placed two drinks on the table, the first for Adam, and who knew what number it was for Monty. It was a standing policy that all former members of Adam’s team ate and drank for free at Cain’s. There was a large plate on the table with remains of three dinosaur ribs looking like a horrific crime scene, the homemade bar-b-que sauce from the restaurant providing the color. Cain’s was one of only a handful of places on Navarus where one could get real bar-b-que, even if it came from the native dinosaur population.
Monty downed half his drink while Adam nursed his.
“Two billion credits,” Monty began. “It has to be up there somewhere. We’ve scoured seventeen of the old mines already, and nothing. The problem is, there are over two hundred mines, and each with dozens of side shafts. And it’s dangerous. We can’t just rush in without making sure they’re safe.”
“Where’s Summer and Tidus?” Adam asked, inquiring about the other two members of Monty’s team.
“Summer’s in Kanac, getting supplies, and Tidus is with PA, trying to drum up some bounty hunting business for us.”
“You’re going back to PA? I didn’t know that’s what you wanted to do. If money’s tight, you can always come to work for me. Hell, I’ve been trying to get all of you over since we started the Enforcers.”
“I appreciate that, Adam, but that would be a full-time job. We know how much work you have for your deputies. If Tidus can round up a well-paying gig for us, we can spend a couple of weeks tracking down some fugitive asshole and make enough money for another six months of searching. We’re not giving up. The payoff is too big.”
“The potential payoff,” Adam corrected. “I’m offering you steady work and at a pretty decent salary.”
“Again, thanks, but no thanks, Captain. Maybe if we go out another year with no luck. But not right now.”
Adam finished his drink and then stood up. “Well, the offer’s always open, for all of you. Take care, Master Chief.”
Monty’s drunken salute would not have passed muster.
On his way through the bar, Sherri Valentine appeared from the side corridor connecting Capt. Cain’s with her Silver Slipper Hotel next door.
“I heard you were back, and that it was bloodier than you expected.”
The former lovers hugged.
“It’s becoming more the rule than the exception. We really do need a military force to handle these kinds of operations.”
Sherri was the de facto leader of the Dead Zone and with the keys to the region’s coffers.
Sherri leaned against the bar. “I agree, but the deal the refugees cut with the Juireans was that we wouldn’t build a military that could challenge them.”
“Who said anything about challenging them?” Adam snapped. “It would only be for internal use.”
“The mane-heads don’t believe that.” Then she snickered. “Especially with you in charge.”
“I don’t want to be in charge of the military. Being a cop is enough. Let someone else run it.”
Sherri shook her head. “Sorry, Adam, it’s not going to happen. As we’ve discussed, I can allocate more funds to a para-military division, kind of a SWAT unit on steroids. That I could probably get past the censors.”
Adam took in the gorgeous blonde, one of his oldest and dearest friends. He was glad to see she was taking to her new job as Vice-Minister of Navarus. And although her hotel business was on the verge of collapse, she had a challenging alternative to fall back on. And besides, Copernicus Smith was still hanging around. The lovers had rekindled the old flame and that did wonders to soothe Sherri’s often volatile temper. And the fact that he was constantly off on some super-secret spy mission for the Human garrison on Navarus meant that he wasn’t around enough for the relationship to grow stale. It was just enough to keep the flame hot and intense.
And speaking of hot and intense relationships, Adam said good-bye to Sherri and took one of his official Marshal transports to his home—and a waiting Arieel Bol.
Chapter 3
With his new-found financial security as the head of the Navarus police force—and the fact that he was spending less time at the bar—Adam bought a decent-size tract of land out on the end of the peninsula that formed the north side of Balamar’s picturesque crescent bay. He
thought it ironic that it was almost from this spot that the assassin Mike Hannon fired the fateful shot that killed the Quid-Elder Quanin Fe Borlon, an event that initiated a series of tragic events that nearly led to another Human-Juirean war. But the location was perfect for his new home, with a spectacular view of the bay and the ocean to the west. At night, he could clearly make out the lights along the bay, including those of his bar and grill.
The home was a work-in-progress, something he used as an excuse to get away from the responsibilities of his daily life. He had contractors do most of the heavy work, while he handled the details. Eventually, the estate would be magnificent, but for now it consisted of only a fifteen-hundred-square-foot single-story structure while the rest of the building was nothing more than slabs and metal framework.
The key feature of the home—and something that would keep the alien riff-raft away—was a series of three internal gravity generators buried within the coral bedrock below the structure. When complete, they would give Adam the flexibility of adjusting the gravity in different parts of his home, allowing for Earth-standard when he wanted or needed it. The design and engineering was expensive, but it was a necessity for him to maintain his Human superiority with regard to strength and durability. Both Sherri and Riyad had their own homes under construction using the same technique, while a complex of apartments with internal gravity generators was built south of Balamar to house the growing Human contingent of his police force, a benefit he used to entice more of his species to come to Navarus. If allowed to acclimate to local gravity conditions, Humans wouldn’t be any more special than the average alien species. And that was not an acceptable option, in Adam’s opinion.
Adam entered the house through the front door and took a moment to gaze through the great room to the azure sea beyond. The house set on a low bluff, about fifty feet above the shore but still high enough to give him a panoramic view. He looked around for Arieel, fully expecting her to come bounding out from one of the side rooms, ready for action. She was always ready for action.
Instead, a sensual bronze arm rose from the couch facing the ocean, the person lying on it hidden by the wide back. The fingers were long and thin and tipped by exquisite nails. The fingers curled into a fist, leaving only the index finger to move slowly, beckoning him forward. He accepted the invitation and moved closer until he could see over the back of the couch, and to the fantasy figure sprawled out on the velvet fabric.
Arieel Bol had a mass of shimmering black hair that reached down to the pit of her back, framing the most gorgeous face and dark orbs Adam had ever seen. Her body was cloaked in the suggestion of a gown, sheer to the point of invisibility and showing all of her incredible attributes. Shapely legs splayed out, one on the couch, the other draped over the edge, open and inviting.
Formilians were more accepting of their heightened sexuality than almost any other race in the galaxy. It was understandable, since their form—both male and female—had been genetically engineered to be the perfect form of Prime being in the galaxy, thanks to the ancient Aris. The pheromones helped, and the race had evolved with a more open and unashamed acceptance of all things sexual.
“I have been waiting here for hours,” Arieel purred. “Why has it taken you so long to come to me upon your arrival?”
Adam leaned over the back of the couch and stroked her silken hair. “I just had a few things to tend to first to make sure we aren’t interrupted—”
As if on cue, there came a beep at the front door, breaking the mood between the lovers. Passion was replaced with frustration.
“Do not answer that,” Arieel pleaded. “I have been here for two days with nothing to do. Now I wish to do … you.”
“I want nothing more than that to happen,” Adam replied. “Just let me see who it is. I didn’t see anyone when I arrived. Now I’m curious.”
Arieel spread her legs a little further apart and ran a hand down her firm, flat stomach. “You should be more curious about this,” she suggested.
Adam took a deep breath before turning and rushing to the front door, anxious to send whoever was there away with a stern warning about calling first.
He jerked the door open. On the porch was a thin, short, balding man of about fifty, the type of person who on Earth would be dismissed without a second thought from all he came in contact with and invisible to everyone else. It was his nondescript appearance that made Jack Brown such an effective spy, elevating him to the post of Station Chief for the Human intelligence services in the Zone.
“Sorry to interrupt, Captain Cain,” said the spy master. “I know you just got back, but I have something important to discuss with you.”
Adam had a working relationship going with Brown even before he took the job of top cop in the Zone. After stealing a dark-energy starship from Gracilia, Adam and his team delivered the vessel to Brown and his spooks at the nearby Human garrison on what was called Liave-3 at the time. For the past eight months, technicians and scientists had been crawling all over the starship learning its secrets. But even more than that, Brown and Adam were both desperate to locate the missing six hundred other Gracilian super-warships that disappeared from Gracilia. The missing armada posed an existential threat, not only to the Zone but to the galaxy as a whole. The men had been working hand-in-hand these past months trying to find the lost fleet.
“I’m a little busy at the moment,” Adam said. “Can it wait?”
Arieel had gotten up off the couch and now stood completely exposed to the visitor at the door. Jack knew Arieel; all of the Enforcer’s assault vessels had been bought from the Formilians. Jack was instrumental in the purchase of the ships, along with a vast array of other advanced Formilian electronic surveillance and monitoring equipment. Even so, Arieel wasn’t glad to see the Human.
“I wish it could, but this is important,” Jack answered. “May I come in?”
Adam sighed deeply. “Sure.”
He stepped aside, allowing Jack to enter. Arieel huffed and turned away, the sheer gown flowing with her fluid movements, covering nothing while giving the men the feeling that they were seeing something they should not be seeing through the transparent fabric. Arieel walked off, allowing the men to take in the sight for a few unabashed moments before they turned to face each other again.
“Well,” Jack said with a sigh. “As I was saying, I want to discuss something with you.”
Adam led the spy to the same couch Arieel was lying on only moments before. He offered Jack a seat. The spy chief paused for a moment before sitting down, appearing to reflect on the reverence of the couch, as if it was a sacred site he didn’t want to spoil. Adam sat in a facing chair.
“The Juireans have somehow found out about the dark-energy ship,” Jack began. “And they’ve been sniffing around, even making demands that we share information about what they’re calling some lost artifact that we stole from one of the Dead Worlds. This goes beyond their authority as Protectors, so I’m pretty sure they know exactly what we have, and they want their piece of the action.”
“Sherri didn’t tell me anything about that.”
“That’s because they’ve gone around the local government and went directly to Earth. They know the locals have no authority over us. I think it’s time we get the ship off Liave—I mean Navarus—and into Union territory.”
“That’s easier said than done,” Adam said. “Especially if they already know what you have.”
“I know. We’ll have to do it under the cover of a larger movement of ships and material. But that’s not the main reason I came over.”
“The fleet?”
“Yeah, it’s about the fleet. A colonist group of the planet Arret, reported seeing a black starship unlike anything they’ve ever seen. It’s unverified, but it’s the first report of its kind we’ve received.”
“Just one ship?”
“That’s what they said.”
“Do you have people out investigating?”
“Not yet. That’s w
hy I’ve come to you. Only a handful of operational people know about the lost fleet, besides the technicians. I want to keep it that way.”
“Copernicus?”
“He’s on another assignment,” Jack answered. “I expect him back in about a week with something that might shed more light on what happened on Gracilia. In the meantime, I was hoping you could go out and take a look. That’s all; just find out if the sighting is true.”
“I just got back from a twelve-day mission.” Adam looked to where Arieel was standing near the patio door, looking like a perfect Greek statue from behind—only more perfect. “I need a little time to relax and rest up.”
Jack followed Adam’s gaze, stretching out a wide grin as he did. “I don’t think you’ll get much rest if you stick around here.”
“She came all the way from Formil to see me.”
“I understand. I suppose you could send Riyad in your place; he is in your chain of command.”
Adam shook his head. “He’s up to his neck in the day-to-day operations of the Enforcers. Rather him than me, in my opinion.”
Before he knew it, Arieel was standing next to him, her near-naked presence taking both men by surprise, especially Jack.
“This is about the dark energy starships, is it not?”
Jack was taken aback. “You know about that?”
“Of course. I am the leader of the Formilians. Most of your Human dark matter technicians were trained by my people. We have had a very extensive dark energy study program going for several years, since from the time the Aris took Lila.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” Jack said. “What else do you know about the missing fleet?”
“Just that it is missing. We are working on a detection system, but it has not been perfected as of yet. And now, you mention the report of a sighting?”