by T. R. Harris
Adam pulled the door to the work bay open a little and poked his head inside, the BAR ready if it was needed. The room was vast and full of equipment, most in huge metal boxes resembling printing presses. Others were glassed-in units which Adam recognized as large 3-D printers, albeit much more sophisticated than the Human variety he was familiar with in his youth. Spindly metal components made up of several thin rods dangled from overhead conveyors, as bins were filled with shiny metal and plastic body parts, looking like the dumpsters outside a Nazi concentration camp.
He and Arieel slipped into the room, Adam sighting his BAR along the ceiling, weary of catwalks where someone might be hiding. He saw no one. He moved to one of the bins.
“Prosthetics,” he whispered to Arieel. “And from the variety, it looks like for several species.” Dust covered the artificial limbs. “They’ve been here for a while, leftovers. Da’sor was a major supplier before Kracion came along.”
“Some of the machines have automatic maintenance programs running,” Arieel reported. “They must have activated when the power was restored. That is what I’m reading on this level. There is much more below us.”
“That’s probably where the people from the DE ship have gone,” Adam said. “Still no weapons being detected?”
Arieel smiled. “Be assured, I will tell you if I find any.”
A lighted corridor to the left beckoned. There was a pair of elevator doors, along with a set of lifting shafts that served as stairways between levels. The shafts ran continually when the power was on. Adam took the first disk cycling down, Arieel the second.
He stepped off at the first subbasement level. A corridor extended from the landing with doors set uniformly along the length. Arieel came up behind him.
“There is no activity here, only the hall lights,” she reported. “One more level below.”
“Damn, I wish I still have my ATD,” Adam finally admitted. “It sure would come in handy right about now.”
“I regret what was done,” Arieel whispered. “It was not my doing.”
“I know; I’m not blaming you. But you can see how useful they can be.”
“For me, the Gift is an extension of my senses. It is as much a part of me as my eyes. I could not imagine existing without it. For me to comprehend how you feel, I must imagine myself without sight. That would be terrifying.”
“It’s a lot like that,” Adam agreed.
He led Arieel into the shaft again and to the next level below. The lobby here was more spacious and better lit, with a large, glassed-in work area to the left. Light filled the room. They stepped up to the door and found an airlock entry system with both an outer and inner door. A code was needed to activate the doors.
“Can you bypass—”
The first door slid open. Arieel looked up at Adam and smiled.
They stepped inside, and after a spurt of fresh-smelling air, the inner door opened.
“A sterile room?” Arieel whispered. She looked at a wrist monitor she wore. “I detect minimal radiation.”
“This is a medical research facility,” Adam pointed out. “You would expect they’d have a lot of laboratories like this. I just hope we haven’t walked into some germ-infested room.”
“I have visited facilities such as this on Formil. If they have contagions, the containment equipment should be secure. Most of the systems within the laboratory are powered. I must assume it is safe.”
Adam shrugged. They were already inside the inner room, so it was too late for caution.
With his BAR ready, Adam led the way into the lab. There were long metal tables covered in sophisticated medical equipment: test tubes, flasks, centrifuges, the full assortment. Workstations with computer screens lined most of the walls, while offshoot rooms contained even more equipment, some lighted, some not. One particular room caught Adam’s eye. It had a standard door—no extra security—so he moved inside. Arieel followed.
There was a long, complex piece of machinery bolted to the floor. It was operating, as evidenced by the lights and clicking sound it was making. And at one end, a thin membrane was slowly being pulled from the device and spun on a spindle.
Arieel leaned in close and then reached out a hand.
“Be careful,” Adam warned.
“It is fine.” She touched the membrane. “It feels like skin. And look, it even has the pattern.”
Da’sor had been one of the foremost makers of artificial skin, and in some cases, actual living tissue used in grafts. The galaxy was full of creatures of all makes and models who needed the material. Da’sor filled that need. Adam could only imagine how successful the company must have been in its heyday.
Then Adam noticed a number of chairs and control consoles in the room. They’d been there all along, being literally part of the furniture. But the fact that they were empty—in spite of the running machinery—made Adam take note.
“So, who’s controlling all this?” he asked rhetorically. “This equipment wasn’t designed to be run automatically. Technicians had to monitor things. Where are they now?”
“The laboratory is clear of any moving energy signals,” Arieel reported. “There is no one here.”
“Then someone must have reprogrammed the computers to set things on auto—”
“I detect movement!” Arieel called out, a little too loudly for Adam’s liking.
“Where?”
“At the far end of the laboratory. Several small power sources were once active and stationery. Now they are moving in unison and in our direction.”
Adam and Arieel ran from the tissue room and back into the main work area, closer to the exit, not wanting to get trapped in a side room.
“How many?” Adam asked as the pair ducked behind a counter.
“Several, but of low output and in very close proximity to one another. They appear to be channeling a stronger power source. They … they are not associated with weapons. And they are too close to be a part of multiple units. There!”
She pointed as a figure appeared from the shadows at the far end of the room. It was the shape of a person, someone of Prime design—Humanoid, in Adam’s vernacular—but relatively short, even shorter than Adam or Arieel. Most aliens species were taller than Humans, having evolved on light gravity worlds. If this creature was short, it could also be strong.
“Is this it, just one of them?” Adam whispered.
“Yes.”
The Human stood up, pointing the impressive super rifle at the approaching alien. “Hold it right there,” Adam commanded. “Don’t come any closer.”
The creature hesitated a moment before disobeying, taking another step into the light before stopping.
“Is that what I think it is?” Arieel asked.
“I think so,” Adam said, equally shocked and confused. “It looks like an Aris.”
Chapter 6
“Hold it!” Adam yelled again. “Keep your hands at your side.”
He knew Aris carried powerful energy weapons embedded in the palms of their hands. He also knew the Aris were dead, all except Kracion. And this wasn’t The Mad Aris.
“Who are you?” Adam asked. “I thought all the Aris were dead?”
The pale skinned, fragile looking being stared at Adam, cocking his head slightly as large dark eyes blinked twice. Then it moved forward again, in jerky, unsure movements.
“I said stop!” Adam repeated, pushing his weapon out in front of him for emphasis. The Aris surveyed the weapon and then looked back at Adam. The mouth moved, but no sound came out. This went on for a full ten seconds before Adam had enough.
“What the hell are you doing? Can’t you speak?”
Arieel staggered back, righting herself against another counter. Adam saw the movement and stepped back, putting more distance between him and the Aris.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “What happened?”
“I heard something in my head—a voice, I think. The Aris is trying to communicate.”
“Th
rough your ATD—your Gift?”
“Yes, but the language is, is confused, jumbled.”
Adam looked back at the Aris. His mouth was still moving, but now tiny whining squeaks could be heard. Slowly, the speech began to form and Adam could make out words.
“Arss … aress … Air-iss.” The creature suddenly stood up straighter and its head swiveled, taking in both Adam and Arieel. “I … I have not spoken before.” The voice was jerky and strained but could be understood. “Database language assimilation underway.”
“Who are you?” Adam asked.
The creature didn’t answer right away, frowning instead.
“You … you recognize me as an Aris? Integration not complete.”
“What are you talking about? What integration?”
“Not important.” The words were smoother now. For a creature who had never spoken before, it was learning fast. The dark eyes studied Adam and Arieel. “You are different from the others on this planet.”
“The colonists?” Arieel asked. “Yes, we are not with them.”
“And you are not Gracilians. You are a Human and a Formilian.”
The statement caught Adam off guard, even as it confirmed his suspicions.
“Are you the one who attacked the base on Gracilia?”
“I would not label my presence there an attack.”
Adam had to be careful. The Aris were the master race in the galaxy. Their civilization was a million years old at the time they began a three-billion-year-long grand experiment to seed the galaxy with the ingredients that would become advanced life on thousands of worlds. Adam had a lot of experience dealing with the Aris, probably more than anyone else in the galaxy. This Aris had to be someone like Kracion, lost in either another universe or who had just spent eons in suspended animation only to be revived and with a lot of catching up to do.
Adam also knew the Aris were not his enemy—not as a general rule. Sure, they’d kidnapped his daughter, Lila, at one point, but they had their reasons. And for his part, Kracion was just bat-shit crazy, proving that even three-billion-year-old species had their bad seeds. Had the same thing happened to this Aris? Had he been under for so long that he now had a few screws loose? Whether that was true or not, Adam had to be careful. Aris may look weak and vulnerable, but they were anything but.
Adam raised his arms and placed the BAR on the counter; he knew the energy component of the weapon was useless anyway. Aris could absorb energy directly, which made them stronger if shot with flash bolts. “Listen, we aren’t here to harm you. Where are the others?”
“They are away, but near. They will come when I summon.”
The tone of the Aris had changed. He wasn’t unsure anymore; in fact, he seemed amused by the contact he was having with Adam and Arieel.
“Do you find my appearance appropriate?” the alien asked.
Adam wasn’t sure what he meant. “Well, you aren’t naked, so I guess that’s a plus. That’s something I’d have trouble handling. But, yeah, you look fine. Is there a reason you shouldn’t?”
“No reason. You recognized me as an Aris, that is all. Now, why are you here?”
“We came looking for the Gracilian warships. I suppose you have them.”
“Of course.”
“What do you plan to do with them?”
The Aris smiled—and then suddenly raised his hands to his face. “That was an impulsive reaction! How unexpected. It appears that the integration is complete. I shall enjoy this.”
The alien was talking nonsense, which only made Adam more nervous. He knew what an insane Aris could do. He and Arieel were on a dead world—one of a hundred just like it—a consequence of the last crazy Aris he’d met.
“What’s your name?” Adam asked pleasantly, trying to put the alien at ease. The Aris was still exploring his face with his hands, as if he’d never felt it before.
“I have a designation which would be meaningless to you. But seeing that you need one, you can call me Kanan.”
Adam grimaced. That was too close to Kracion for comfort.
“Okay, Kanan. Pleased to meet you. I’m Adam Cain and this is Arieel Bol.”
Kanan stopped rubbing his face. “A Human and a Formilian. The children of the Aris. My children.” The Aris laughed, but it wasn’t from humor.
Adam looked at Arieel and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. We know what the Aris did in the past to help form our species. So, thanks.”
Kanan continued to stare at Adam, until he slowly shook his head.
“You look at me and you see an Aris. The others on Gracilia—and before—
they did not see the same.”
“Is that why you killed them?”
“Among other reasons.” The alien frowned and cocked his head again slightly. “You see me and you assume I am benevolent, based on your past association with the Aris. However, Adam Cain and Arieel Bol, you have no concept what danger you are in.”
Arieel reached out and placed an arm around Adam’s waist, moving in closer to him. He understood her reaction. His guts had just tied into knots.
“I don’t understand,” Adam said softly. “We’re no threat to you. As you said, we are your children. Why would you want to hurt your children?”
“I mock you and you do not even realize. You are not the children of the Aris. I am.”
“I … I don’t understand.”
“Of course, you do not. I am here to enlighten you.”
“About what?” Adam asked.
“About the true history of the Aris. That is why you see what you see before you. It is all part of the lesson—”
As he spoke passionately, Kanan lifted his arms, bringing is palm-energy weapons to bear.
Adam saw that as his cue.
He reached for the super rifle, pulling the weapon off the counter and switching it to ballistic mode in a single motion. Energy could be absorbed by the Aris; Adam was about to find out how they handled bullets.
He squeezed the trigger and kept it depressed as he pulled Arieel away with his free hand toward the door to the laboratory. An ear-shattering staccato filled the room, echoing off the metal walls. Glass shattered and metal pinged as the high-powered rounds tore a swath through the laboratory. In the blink of an eye, Adam caught sight of Kanan diving for cover. His aim was wild, simply laying down cover fire for the pair to escape. He was pretty sure none of the rounds hit the Aris.
“Get it open!” Adam yelled, indicating the doors to the airlock entry. Arieel was a step ahead of him. She had both doors open, allowing the pair to race through before she closed them again with a command from her mind.
“I have jumbled the codes. He should be trapped inside.”
“Don’t bet on it!”
Adam jumped into the lifting shaft and pulled Arieel along with him. With hearts racing and their breathing coming in nervous fits, it was a slow and anticlimactic ride up to the main floor.
When they got there, Adam sent a grenade round down the shaft. A moment later, a deep, rumbling explosion sounded, followed by a volcano of smoke from the shaft. Taking out the lifting shaft wouldn’t stop Kanan from using the elevators, but it made Adam feel better seeing the smoke billow up from below.
Adam and Arieel raced along the main manufacturing floor and into the lobby. They were in the cool night air a moment later, feeling wind-driven raindrops slapping their face. The dark-energy starship loomed in the night, glistening in the rain, giving off sparks of light from the streetlights. Adam considered the ship for a moment while looking toward the shoreline two hundred yards away and down a gentle slope. The Enforcer starship was two miles away along a sandy track. In the rain, the beach would be soggy, slowing their progress. By the time they got there, Kanan would have the black ship airborne and coming their way. And if not, he could call in others to take out the EAV, so, even disabling this one wouldn’t be enough.
“Can you get the ship going?” he yelled at Arieel through the sound of the wind and r
ain.
She looked at him, confused.
“Can you get the systems working?”
“On the Aris ship?”
“Yes!”
“Which systems?”
“All of them!”
A movement caught their eye at the front of the building. A short, slender figure emerged from inside. Although Kanan learned to speak in record time, he was still having trouble getting his legs to work right. Either they had atrophied during his long hibernation, or he couldn’t remember how they worked.
“Arieel!”
“Yes, I can!”
The night suddenly exploded with light, sound and fury. Four powerful flash cannon went off simultaneously on the black ship, the heat and sonic concussion throwing Adam and Arieel twenty feet away and onto a small patch of short grass infused with thick clumps of smelly brown fertilizer.
“Oh! I got some in my mouth!” Arieel gagged.
Adam didn’t care. He was up and pulling the Formilian to her feet. The flash bolts had pulverized the front of the Da’sor building, blowing away the edifice and penetrating deep into the interior. Fires erupted inside, lighting the scene after the energy bolts dissipated. Kanan was nowhere to be seen, which should have made Adam happy. But it didn’t. He shuddered at how strong the alien would become if he absorbed a full flash cannon bolt of energy.
With Arieel in one hand and his BAR in the other, Adam ran for the DE ship. The side hatch was open, the result of Arieel having activated every system in the ship at once. She’d come to her senses by now and was dialing it back, shutting down unnecessary functions. There shouldn’t be any more inadvertent bolt launches.
They were in the ship a moment later, Arieel closing the hatch behind them. Adam spent several days aboard a similar vessel on the trip back to Liave-3 from Gracilia giving him a pretty good lay of the land. He raced off to the bridge, hoping that observing Copernicus and Riyad piloting the vessel was enough for him to do it himself. He dropped the BAR to the deck and slipped into the pilot seat. Fortunately, the command consoles were already lit up and charged. Adam gambled when he asked Arieel to activate the ship, hoping that the Gracilians used standard control modules and other Formilian components when constructing their dark-energy ships. Although the power source was exotic, once the generators produced the electricity necessary to run the ship, the mechanisms that channeled it throughout the vessel were of Formilian design or manufacture. Arieel had access to everything aboard the ship, everything except for the dark-energy generators. That was proprietary.