Phantoms

by T. R. Harris

  “Screw the neighborhood,” Monty growled. “I say level the whole goddamn city.”

  “What about the security door below? That could be a way out.”

  “I have attempted to open it with Anoc’s ID card. It did not work. But as a last resort, we may attempt to use explosives on it. But for now, we must prepare our defense.” Then the tall Juirean stared hard at Summer. “And we could use your inner demon if that is possible. Her demonstrated skills could be valuable.”

  Summer pursed her lips. Of course, they would, she thought. Forget about me. It’s all about J’nae now. “I will see what I can do.”

  Tidus turned to Monty. “Take a supply of the Xan-fi’s up to the next level where you will have a better view of the front entrance. Summer and I will station ourselves at the forward barrier.” He handed Summer a small satchel. “This contains personnel grenades I found in the armory. We will use them to keep the invaders at bay. Then, if we have to fall back, we will destroy the barriers in front of us so they cannot be used for shelter by our enemies. Please hurry.” He pointed to the monitor. There was a huge crowd of aliens outside the main door, preparing their explosives. “The breach will come soon.”

  Regarding J’nae, Summer didn’t have to ask. A moment later her vision was once again shoved to the rear as J’nae took over. Her body now moved with purpose, placing her compound bow and quiver on her back—not to be used in the coming battle, but so she wouldn’t leave it behind should they have to evacuate the building. She also took three Xan-fi flash rifles and a pair of MKs, along with all the surplus power packs she could carry.

  She met up with Tidus at the first barrier beyond the entrance. There was a mini-maze of the four-foot-high walls extending about twenty feet into the great room, made up of three layers. They were staggered which would allow the pair to fall back to new positions without revealing themselves.

  They had barely got in position when a tremendous explosion sent a shockwave of debris, fire and sound rumbling into the room. Tidus and Summer hunkered behind the barrier, protected from most of the effects. Monty was far enough away that he wasn’t affected.

  Then came a rush of aliens, all firing indiscriminately through the cloud of the breach. Tidus and Summer lobbed several of the small grenades into the mass, while Monty unloaded twenty plasma bolts into the lingering cloud of smoke, draining his first battery pack. He didn’t bother snapping in another. He had so many surplus weapons at his feet that he simply grabbed another and continued firing.

  The new explosions put a temporary stop to the invasion. Then through the din of the flash bolts and rumbling throughout the building, Summer heard someone call out, “Four times!”

  Even the mutant genius within her had trouble comprehending the message until Tidus explained.

  “Those in charge have boosted the pay for the assault by four times as an incentive to the hesitant.”

  He barely had the words out when another wave of aliens surged into the room. Even J’nae’s quicker reactions and deadly aim took out only a limited number. Tidus wasn’t nearly the shot she was, but he still hit a few himself; there were so many it was hard to miss.

  “Save some of the grenades!” he called out. “Retreat!”

  Summer/J’nae obeyed. They moved back to the last barrier, bypassing the second one. They tossed a pair of explosives to the base of the first partition. The concussion was so close that the heat sucked the air from Summer’s lungs. In a moment of irony, she thought this would be a good time to be immortal.

  With the first two barriers gone, the swarm of aliens had little cover. But there was so many of them, and the bonus steeled their resolve. They kept coming even as the body count soared.

  Summer detected a secondary explosion above them and to her left. She looked back to see Monty fall on his back, firing his weapon between his legs and up the stairs behind him. There was a second breach.

  “Down!” she called out. “Everyone down!”

  Monty rolled on his side and took off in a sprinter’s stance, abandoning the cache of weapons around him. He still had the MKs. Tidus unwound his tall body and began to bounce toward the wide stairway leading to the lower levels. Summer was at his side a moment later, taking him under the arm and literally dragging him along. She felt a surge of strength, either the result of adrenalin or with a little help from J’nae. Either way, on his own, Tidus was too slow to make it to safety without her help.

  The trio bound down the stairs until they came to a point where Tidus forced them to stop. He swiped Anoc’s ID card, and a heavy security door slid across the opening, locking them inside. Summer hadn’t noticed the door before, but Tidus had during the time he stood watch in the control room. It would buy them time until they figured a way to get the other security door open, which hopefully would lead to an underground escape route.

  Tidus scrambled to the command console, surveying the monitors. Most showed scenes of smoke, chaos… and aliens, lots of aliens. They were still firing at every shadow and around every corner. There seemed to be no effort to capture the fugitives. They would settle for the ten million credits for bringing them in dead, rather than alive.

  Summer had one flash rifle with half a charge. Tidus and Monty only had their MKs. And unfortunately, the armory was on the other side of the first security door.

  “Summer, take the ID card. See if you will have more luck with the locking mechanism.”

  Summer knew what he meant: Let J’nae try. She’s a lot smarter than you. She’s also smarter than you, dickhead, she thought.

  Thank you, Summer.

  I was wondering when you’d drop in to say hi?”

  Words were not necessary until now.

  The card was swiped again, and like before, no response.

  “Why isn’t it working?” she asked aloud. “The card has worked on everything else in the building.”

  I will seek to bypass the circuit.

  With a surge of uncommon strength, Summer ripped off the metal casing to the security box. Inside was a maze of fiber-optic lines and small plastic chips. From Summer’s point of view, it was all Greek. But J’nae suddenly had her fingers inside, manipulating wires.

  “Something is happening outside,” Tidus called out from the command console.

  “Are they firing on the others?” Monty asked.

  “It would appear so.”

  “What’s happening?” Summer asked.

  “Someone is firing on the attackers outside.”

  “Adam?”

  “No. It is coming from small hovercopters, a number of them, firing from elevated positions. One has landed on the roof, and troops are moving inside the building, working their way lower.”

  “Who—”

  “They are Gradis,” Tidus answered before she could finish the question.

  “The Gradis are firing on the others? Why?”

  “They are not about to lose their reward, it would seem.”

  It was a strange sensation. Summer was carrying on a conversation with Tidus as her fingers worked inside the control box without her knowledge or control. But they knew what they were doing, obviously. The door began to slide open.

  “You know it just may lead to a sewage plant and not a way out,” Monty stated sourly.

  “It’s better than staying here,” Summer barked. “Hurry!”

  “Can you close the door?” Monty asked once they were on the other side.

  “Not now,” said J’nae in Summer’s exasperated voice. “The circuits are damaged.”

  They began to run. The corridor was narrow, with a damp, musty smell and lit by a series of dim yellow bulbs set in the walls. The floor angled down at a fairly decent slope, which told them it was directed toward the bottom of the hill and away from Anoc’s house. That was encouraging. And with the Gradis troops occupying the attention of the other attackers, they might have time to make it to the other end before the security door to the command center was blown open.

  There
was a steady stream of smelly water running along the sides of the floor, and the humidity made the surface slippery. Tidus fell several times and had to be rescued by Summer’s superior strength and balance. It was obvious to her that no one had been down here for a long time, possibly not since the tunnel was carved through the bedrock. It was a good three minutes of slipping and sliding before they came to an end and another security door, this one smaller. There was a keypad lock on the panel without a slot or screen for scanning the ID card.

  J’nae didn’t give them time to contemplate the code. Instead, off came the cover and again the strange presence in Summer’s mind took over, working within the box. A latch clicked. Summer took the handle and pushed. The door opened outward.

  Beyond was another room with an innocuous-looking door on the other side with a bright band of morning light filtering in along the threshold. Tidus and Monty ran for the door. Summer froze in her steps. It was jarring; not being in control of her body. But J’nae sensed something….

  Suddenly the room filled with smoke. Tidus and Monty dropped to their knees, their bodies trembling as eyes remained open and aware with panic. Summer’s body jerked forward for a couple of steps until even J’nae’s influence couldn’t keep her standing. She sensed the frustration in her mind. The powerful creature inside her was still susceptible to what happens to the host. She fell to the wet concrete floor, rolled over and looked up at the moldy ceiling.

  Several figures hovered over her, each wearing full-face masks. There were no two species alike, telling her that they were from the Cartel. One person, in particular, leaned down closer. His face was wide, his eyes intense. He was more Prime than most, having many Human qualities. But he wasn’t Human; he was a fucking alien.

  “At last,” the creature said through the mask. He looked over at another figure next to him. “My compliments, Calan. The paralyzing gas appears to be effective on Humans and Juireans.” He then looked again into Summer’s unblinking eyes. “My name is TeraDon Fief. Remember that name. Remind my client that it was I who secured you, and alive at that. He is quite anxious for a meeting; however, from your size and composure, I believe he will find you quite the disappointment.”

  He stood up. “Bind them securely and then load them aboard a lift. Have the others remain on site a while longer to provide us with cover. Once our captives are back at the Sector, we will let the planet know it was the Gradis that performed on the contract. It will help with recruitment.”

  16

  Maybe their standard comms are down, too, Adam Cain thought after his fifth attempt to contact the team on Sasin. Tidus said the CW array was ripped off the ship. Perhaps the standard antenna was as well. Adam was well within the system by now and should have been able to reach them if the system was working. He’d made good time and was about an hour ahead of schedule. He didn’t think any more about the comm loss. In the scheme of things, it didn’t matter. He would be on the planet in sixteen minutes; he’d find out then.

  Already the transponder signal was locked into the nav computer. A quick drop to the surface and he’d be off again minutes later, with his three friends safe and sound. That was good. From what he’d learned of Sasin, the less time he spent on the planet, the better. Besides, he had a gang of evil immortal beings to track down, and already his juices were flowing in anticipation of the coming hunt. He leaned back in the command chair, frowning.

  What the hell’s wrong with me? he thought. We just got rid of Kracion, and before that, a whole succession of other galactic nasties. I shouldn’t be so anxious to jump right back into the fire.

  Had he become addicted to the action, to the danger? God, he hoped not. Adam admitted he was lucky beyond belief, but how much longer that would last was anyone’s guess. Maybe this one last mission—to find out what happened to Kracion and the other Aris—and then he’d call it quits. Retire back on Earth in a cozy cabin in the mountains with a dog—a black lab. He liked black labs. Yes, that would be nice.

  He smirked. But hopefully this time, the cabin won’t get shot to shit by commandoes and crazed Klin. I’d really like more than a few months before someone—or something—tries to kill me.

  As he reached the planet, he tried to get clearance to land in the city of Yanish-kas. That’s when his frustration began to grow. Apparently, there was no living creatures manning the traffic center. The place was a mess, both in orbit and on the surface. He gave up after a few minutes of fruitless negotiating with a basic AI and made a beeline for the location of the transponder signal without receiving permission to land or filing a flight plan.

  The Arya—as his ship was called—was one of the most-advanced starships in the galaxy, one of only three trans-dimensional vessels in existence—at least in this universe. Besides her sister ship—the Sansa—Panur and Lila still had their tiny egg-shaped dimension-hopper. It worked for them, if not for anyone else. It didn’t have a food processor, sleeping quarters or atmosphere control. The mutants didn’t need any of that to survive. Still, Panur packed the small craft into the hold of the Sansa, just in case it was needed. By now, the rest of the team was on their way to the Kidis Frontier and the home star of the Aris Technician’s planetary base. It was into that star that Panur and Lila intended to dispose of Kracion. Adam shrugged. For all he knew, they may have succeeded; it was still a slim possibility. However, there were too many inconsistencies to take the chance. If the other Aris had saved Kracion, Adam and his friends had to know. The people of the galaxy deserved fair warning that a deadly do-over might be headed their way.

  After dodging a plethora of debris during the transition from space to the atmosphere, Adam came in on final approach, gliding in toward a huge expanse of open ground in the middle of the most disgusting urban sprawl he’d ever seen. It wasn’t normal for spaceports to be located in the center of cities, but it seemed as though normal didn’t apply to Sasin. In fact, an errant landing—followed by a massive conflagration—might do the city some good.

  The transponder signal was strong, and Adam piloted his sleek and sexy starship to a landing about a hundred meters from the source. He looked out the viewport and saw the Forty—or what was left of her—sitting out among the other trash filling the spaceport. Tidus said the ship had been damaged by raiders, but damn, how did the thing even manage a landing? It sat atop a mangled mash of metal, listing to starboard, and with one of its chemical engines lying several meters away on the black soil. It was a miracle any of them survived the landing to make the call to the Behemoth.

  There were a few vehicles stationed outside the entrance to the Forty, along with a small hovercopter. Adam had no idea who they belonged to, but it was obvious something was going on at the ship and considering the local environment, that did not bode well.

  Adam strapped an MK-84 to his waist. The ‘84 was the latest state-of-the-art handgun from Maris-Kliss—a prototype, in fact—and was one of the benefits that came from having just saved the galaxy from the Mad Aris. It was the same for the Arya and the Sansa, the products of an unlimited budget which helped to satisfy the creative talents of the mutants. It seemed Adam and his team could write their own tickets anywhere in the galaxy. They were the flavor of the month. At least for now. This wasn’t the first time Adam had saved the galaxy, so he knew fame and adulation were fleeting, especially in a place as fickle as the Milky Friggin’ Way. But he would enjoy it while he could.

  The Arya came equipped with a reactive hull designed to deliver a sizable shock to anyone messing around with her. Seeing what was taking place in the spaceport, the feature would come in handy. He activated the safeties and then left the ship to find out who was poking around the Forty.

  He stepped out into the early morning light of Sasin, noticing the Juirean-standard gravity of the planet. He let out a deep breath and wrinkled his nose. Damn, this place stinks!

  He walked to the Forty and climbed to the side entrance using a mangled mass of crumpled metal for steps. He took a closer look at the s
teps and frowned. The frame wasn’t from the Forty but another vessel, which begged for an explanation….

  Adam stepped through the open hatch.

  Sounds came from the direction of the cockpit. There he found the asses of four aliens sticking out from under various consoles, each in the process of dismantling the components. Adam realized then why he couldn’t contact the ship; the comm module was already missing.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Adam demanded, catching the aliens off guard. Heads banged against metal as the creatures struggled to extricate themselves from the units.

  “This is a United Defense Force ship. You have no right to be here. Where’s the crew?”

  Each of the beings was taller than Adam—as were most aliens—but they recognized him as a Human. Their eyes shifted nervously to a spot over his shoulder. Adam spun before letting out a gasp.

  A leather-vested Rigorian stood a few feet behind him.

  Adam cringed, experiencing the same sense of foreboding he always felt around the lizard-like creatures, with their foot-long snouts, protruding teeth and beady yellow eyes. To date, Adam hadn’t encountered any spider-like beings, but he was sure he would feel the same about one of them as he did the Rigorian. He hated spiders, as well as walking, talking alligators.

  “We now have authority over this vessel,” the lizard stated. Rigorian mouths weren’t made for proper speech articulation, but the Formilian translation bug Adam had implanted behind his right ear did a decent job of deciphering the gurgles and growls.

  “Like hell you do. Where is the crew?”

  “That is none of your concern. Move on, Human, before we take action against you.”

  Adam snickered. Really? He looked back at the other four creatures, none of which were nearly as intimidating as the Rigorian. They looked nervous.

  Adam turned back to the green lizard. “I’m Adam Cain, and this vessel is assigned to my team and me. Now, where are the others?”

  Adam felt a wicked sense of satisfaction when the Rigorian recognized his name. Although the Fringe-born beasts were known as accomplished fighters, they had trouble going head-to-head with a Human. But this one had been counting on the other four aliens in the room to shift the odds. That was until he found he was facing the famous superhuman Adam Cain. Even then, you can’t fix stupid….