by T. R. Harris
“What the … blue bolts? That is so cool!”
Riyad continued to fire, not only testing the capacity of the rifle, but also its range and accuracy. After thirty minutes, he still hadn’t drained the power pack. But the nearby jungle was a mess, with small herds of frightened dinosaurs and tiny mammals scurrying for safety.
Eventually, Riyad turned back to Jay, a silly grin on his face.
“What do you need?”
“A freighter, of course. And decontamination foam and some lift jacks. Also, provisions for me and my crew, along with a security team of five or six. And Riyad, I wouldn’t tell Adam about this until I’ve made arrangements to sell the weapons. He may not be too keen about getting involved with black market gunrunners.”
“That’s the reason for meeting out here?”
“You know him better than I do, but it’s just a feeling I have.”
“You’re probably right. And if not Adam, then definitely Sherri.” Riyad snorted. “There was a time when that wouldn’t have been the case, but now that we’re trying to get established here, mixing with the wrong people could give us the wrong kind of reputation.”
“But you don’t have a problem with it, do you?”
Again, Riyad flashed his trademark white smile. “Are you kidding? I live for moments like this. I only wish I could come along with you for the salvage.”
Jay smiled back, although inside, he cringed. “Best that you don’t; otherwise, Adam and Sherri might suspect something’s up.”
“I know. But I can still dream, can’t I? How soon do you need the equipment and the security team?”
“As soon as possible. I’m ready to go otherwise. If anyone else gets wind of this, there’ll be nothing left to salvage. That’s a guarantee.”
“I understand. Let me get to work. The Ed Gibson is at the spaceport and ready to go, and I have all the other equipment at the store. The security team won’t be a problem, either. We can use Rans Xaoc and his people again. They did a good job for us the last time you went out.”
“Sounds great.”
Then Riyad stepped in a little closer, handing the weapon back to Jay. “Oh, and I want forty percent of the net after deducting for all costs.”
Jay hesitated, appearing concerned. The normal split was thirty percent, but with him holding back five of the containers, he couldn’t seem too anxious to accept the deal.
“That’s pretty high, buddy.”
“I have to justify keeping this a secret from my partners. When the time comes, a decent payday will go a long way to smoothing ruffled feathers.”
“Thirty-five percent?”
Riyad shook his head. He knew Jay had absolutely no resources of his own. Either he partnered with Riyad—and on his terms—or there was no deal. “Forty. Take it or leave it.”
Jay shook his head. “That’s fine. What choice do I have?”
Riyad smiled.
And so did Jay—inside. All he had to do now was pay off the security team with some of the extra money he’d make on the other five containers, and he’d be home free.
And just think, he thought. After this, I won’t have to come begging to Riyad anymore—or to anyone else for that matter. I’ll be my own boss.
6
Adam and Sherri were too engrossed in their efforts to get business back up at Cain’s that they didn’t pay much attention to what Riyad was doing after his early morning drive. And two days later, when one of their three active freighters lifted off from the Kanac Spaceport, neither of them knew it was gone or where it was going. Jay let Riyad keep the rifle, in case he had to show it to Adam and Sherri should they get wind of the operation. Hopefully, a demonstration would be enough to convince them that what Riyad was doing was the right thing. But until that time came, he hid it away in his small apartment at the back of his warehouse.
Jay was upfront with his four-person crew as to the true nature and scope of the salvage, but not so with the security team. He would cross that bridge when the time came. Rans Xaoc and his team wouldn’t share in the profits from the salvage anyway; rather, they were paid a flat fee for their services. Jay figured they’d jump at the chance for a substantial bonus so long as they didn’t tell Riyad the true number of containers they recover. Already, Jay had in mind a small town on the other side of Liave-3 where he would stash the extra containers until needed. The remaining container would fit in the cargo hold of the Ed Gibson and probably stay there until a buyer was found.
Jay knew he was playing it pretty loose with his fellow Human friends. But that’s just how it was in The Zone. It was every Human—and alien—for him, her, or itself.
7
Jay Williford was only six when Earth learned of the existence of aliens.
The revelation came in the form of the devastating surprise attack by the Juireans that killed over two billion people. Jay and his family lived through the horror and the aftermath, the event forever changing him, along with all of Humanity. Science fiction was no longer fiction, and reality hit mankind like a rock.
For the next twenty years, Jay heard of the exploits of Adam, Riyad and Sherri, as they were alternatively blamed for catastrophes and then called heroes a few years later. It was confusing, what to believe or not. But no matter what the final verdict was on the trio of mankind’s three most famous/infamous Humans, Jay was often in awe that he was rubbing shoulders with them on a near-constant basis on Liave-3. He drank with them, joked with them, and even cheated them when the time called for it. He justified his actions with the firm belief that they would do the same to him if the opportunity presented itself. That was just being Human.
Jay joined the space Navy at eighteen, blaming Adam Cain personally for the decision. After twelve years of hearing about his adventures, Jay was ready to start performing some of his own heroics. It was common knowledge on the planet at the time that Humans were the badasses of the galaxy; stronger, quicker, more durable and much better at the art of war than just about any alien around. The young man was anxious to start playing Superman for real. At the time, the military was on the lookout for people like him, and he had to lie during his psych eval to hide the fact that the sole reason he enlisted was to be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.
To his surprise, he made it, and just in time to catch the tail end of the final conflict with the domestic Klin. He called them the domestic Klin because a few years later, the Mad Aris Kracion showed up with a different breed of Klin from another universe. That was when things got really dicey.
Early on, Humanity and their small galactic empire—the Orion-Cygnus Union—took the lead in the fight against Kracion. To Jay, that didn’t seem like a very smart thing to do. They were going up against a three-billion-year-old immortal genius who didn’t like Humans very much. His weapons were superior, and his desire for galactic domination knew no bounds. Any force that went up against him was summarily crushed. For several months, Jay and his fellow sailors were on pins and needles, wondering if they would be next.
Then Kracion began his campaign of terror in the Kidis Frontier, attacking and destroying the native populations of over one hundred worlds in what would later become known as The Dead Zone. He did this to make a point: that resistance to him was futile. After that, the galaxy not only offered their complete surrender, but they insisted on it. Kracion didn’t accept. He wanted the defeat to go beyond words and actions, all the way to the very soul of the galaxy. He was immortal, and therefore, aspired to become the permanent God of the Milky Way. He wanted not only capitulation but worship. He was very close to getting his wish when Adam Cain and his friends did something that caused Kracion to disappear from the galaxy. Even to this day, details were fuzzy and in conflict, but the mystery only added to the mystique of Adam Cain and his team.
That crisis was followed by another brief period where it was later discovered the universe—the whole friggin’ universe—had recently dodged a bullet, barely surviving an event that could have ende
d all existence. This time Adam and his super mutant friends—Panur and Lila—shared some of the blame for what transpired. This made the Human trio persona non grata on a number of worlds, including Earth, precipitating their move to Liave-3. That was a shame, because from what Jay could tell, Adam, Sherri and Riyad had just been doing what they could to save the universe, not destroy it.
Jay didn’t understand all the politics involved, because, after all, the universe was still here, and Adam and his people had done something to stop the impending apocalypse. That should count for something, shouldn’t it? Apparently not.
But for Jay Williford, all these galactic shenanigans were far above his paygrade. He found that being in the space Navy was not all it was made out to be. Being cooped up in a pressurized tin can for months on end wasn’t anything like he imagined. He trained as a helmsman, believing that piloting a starship would fulfill all his childhood dreams. Yeah, that didn’t work out. And being enlisted, he never got the chance to become a fighter pilot. Instead, he was assigned to a huge battle-carrier as one of the dozen helmsmen tasked with monitoring the computers and making sure they did what they were supposed to do. Carriers didn’t make wild Luke Skywalker-type maneuvers in space. They simply lumbered from one place to another, and often behind the lines and out of harm’s way.
That was until Kracion showed up. Even then, carriers were held back unless there was no option.
After his first four years, Jay decided to call it quits. Unfortunately, he didn’t take the opportunity to be shipped back to Earth. Instead, one of his buddies talked him into sticking around the Kidis to try their hand at salvage in The Zone.
As it turned out, a couple of twenty-three-year-old men with no money, credit or experience were ripe for the picking. Jay’s friend, David Lender, called it quits after six months when they had a small cargo stripped from them at gunpoint on one of the lesser worlds in The Zone. The experience scared the shit out of David, and to tell the truth, they were lucky to live through it.
Jay decided to stay on Liave-3 after that, hiring himself out to various security teams before picking up a few solo salvage jobs. That’s when he bought his speeder—the infamous David Lender. It was his pride and joy, the one thing that got his juices flowing. The problem: it took credits to run and maintain the vessel. It was also short-range, so he had to keep it within forty light-years of Liave-3. He couldn’t afford the power mods it would take for a return to Earth.
Jay’s fortunes changed six months ago when Adam, Sherri and Riyad came to Liave-3. Not only were there more Humans on Liave-3, but they were three of the most famous. After getting over an early bout of hero-worship, Jay fell in with the trio. As one of only a handful of Humans on the planet, Adam and his team accepted him into their exclusive clique, particularly Riyad Tarazi. In Jay, Riyad saw a lot of himself, albeit a younger Riyad. Jay was an adventurer and willing to take risks. Riyad went on to sponsor Jay with his first major salvages. Some were successful, but most not. Although it seemed like easy money from the outside, the life of a salvager was tough. Although neither of the Humans made much money, it was a great learning experience for both of them. Jay learned how to run larger-scale salvage operations while at the same time Riyad learned how to run an outfitting business. It was a win-win for both of them.
And now they stood to make a considerable amount of Juirean credits off the salvage of the prototype weapons, with Jay making considerably more.
Again, Jay justified his deception by knowing Riyad’s background as the former head of the Fringe Pirates. If the roles were reversed, Riyad would have done the same to him. It wasn’t personal; it was business.
8
Once the huge freighter set down on the tarmac within the forest of warehouses, Jay moved his tiny speeder from the cargo hold to make room for the shipping containers. Once the pods were transferred to space and linked together to form a cargo string, he would put one container in the hold, along with his starship. The other five containers would be towed to Liave-3 and stashed on the other side of the planet from Balamar, away from Riyad and his friends.
On the way to Hax’on, Jay tentatively devised a plan on how he would dispose of the weapons. Before leaving L-3, he made contact with a sales broker who would arrange a meeting with a specialty gunrunner. At first, Jay would only negotiate for the one container—the one he was partnering with Riyad. After that, he would come back and put a deal together for the rest of the containers, while also cutting out the broker. He was determined to squeeze every credit he could out of the deal. Opportunities like this didn’t come along very often, and this one had the potential to set him up for life.
Rans Xaoc and his team still hadn’t been told the true nature of the salvage, at least not yet. In most cases, the salvaged cargo wasn’t an issue. Security didn’t share in the profits; instead, they were paid a flat fee for the job. Upon landing, the six-alien team fanned out, establishing a defense perimeter, setting up huge double-action flash cannon on tripods, aimed outward from the warehouse and the nearby freighter. Although the team was there only for planetside defense, they had detectors that would alert them to any incoming starships. Most raider operations were small-scale and could be scared off easily with enough show of force. But not all. And if anyone knew what Jay was salvaging, they would come in guns a-blazing. There was too much money riding on the outcome to leave it to chance.
Since the salvage involved only one warehouse and six containers, the decontamination process shouldn’t take more than two days. After that, the containers would be carted to the freighter, where three at a time could be carried into orbit. This would be another critical time when the containers were left floating in space. Jay would use his speeder at that point to keep an eye on them as the others were shuttled into space. But with no weapons aboard his ship, there wasn’t much he could do if raiders came in to take them except watch all his dreams go up in smoke.
Jay’s second-in-command, a green-skinned alien named Donal, accompanied him to the warehouse, along with the security boss, Rans Xaoc. Donal still wore a bandage on his right forearm from the injury he’d suffered at Cain’s twelve days before.
Twelve days, Jay thought. It’s funny how quickly fortunes can change.
Everyone on the surface wore bright green decon-outfits, heavy-duty spacesuits the equivalent of Hazmat suits on Earth. Although the residual radiation was dissipating rapidly on the planet, a couple of days on the surface was enough to saturate normal suits. These uniforms came courtesy of Riyad Tarazi and would protect them for the time they were on the surface.
The trio stepped inside the warehouse. Rans immediately began pointing.
“Six containers, six containers,” he said, concern thick in his alien-accented voice.
Jay grimaced. Who in his crew told the alien about the scam they were pulling on Riyad? Or maybe Riyad himself told Rans that there would be only one container to guard. Even still, Jay didn’t understand what he was so concerned about.
“Yeah, so what?” he said. “One container or six, what difference does it make to you?”
“Untruthful to Riyad. We contract with him, not you.”
Jay shook his head. This negotiation was happening sooner than he’d expected. He knew eventually he’d have to throw some extra money at the security crew to keep them quiet.
“Yes, there are six, not one. And because of this, I was going to make you an offer as compensation. Do you want to hear it?”
“What offer?”
“An offer for bonus credits.”
“Paid when?”
“When I sell the contents.”
“What guarantees?”
“That I pay you, or that I sell the weapons?”
“Weapons?”
Jay was exasperated. “Yes, the containers hold weapons, an advanced form of energy rifle. I can sell them for a lot of credits, but it will take time. Are you willing to wait?”
“Wait for what?”
“For me to s
ell the weapons before I can pay you. Why are we having so much trouble communicating?”
“Because you speak not plainly.”
Jay took a deep breath before continuing. “All right. Let me start over. There are six containers of advanced weapons. Riyad only knows about one. I want to pay you and your crew a sizeable bonus for keeping this a secret from Riyad. But to get the bonus, you’ll have to wait until I sell the weapons. As a guarantee that you’ll get paid, you can tell Riyad if I go back on my word. You know what he’ll do to me if he finds out I tricked him. Is that plain enough for you?”
Rans Xaoc was silent for far too long, making Jay nervous. But he’d been out in the galaxy long enough to know that not all creatures thought as fast as Humans. He bit his bottom lip, waiting for Rans to respond.
“Sizeable.” It was a statement, not a question.
Jay relaxed. He stretched out a thin grin, being careful to keep his teeth from being fully exposed. That signified a death challenge in a lot of alien cultures. He didn’t want to take the chance of upsetting the security boss.
“You are being paid ten thousand Juirean credits for this salvage operation, to be divided among six of you. I will give you another ten thousand—each. All you need to do is stay quiet about the true number of containers we salvage.”
“Each?”
“Each.”
“Fifteen,” Rans said.
Jay pursed his lips. “How about this? Twenty for you and ten for each of the others.”
Jay wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected a slight widening of the alien’s eyes. It was hard to tell through the lens of the helmet.
“Agreed.”
Jay shook his head, not from disagreement, but frustration that he had to go through that.