by T. R. Harris
Dal Divisen arrived a month later.
He was a refugee himself, but not from the dead worlds. Although his past was mostly a mystery, Lion/El learned that he came from a planet on the side of the Expansion, having once been a successful entrepreneur with a somewhat seedy reputation. His reasons for leaving were clouded, but Lion/El got the impression it was not Dal’s choice to do so.
Lion/El and Dal paired up almost immediately, as the new arrival began scouting land to purchase around the recently cleared crash site. Through Lion/El, he made an offer on a large tract of jungle, stretching from the clearing northward toward the foothills. Members of the local council in Gantoc were confused, wondering what one would want with such a vast region of nearly impenetrable jungle? They even questioned whether or not they had the authority to sell him the land. No one owned the jungle, and there was no legal authority with jurisdiction. That’s when Lion/El pointed out that Dal was offering them half-a-million credits for a tract of worthless land. Whether they had the authority to sell the land or not didn’t matter. Dal was willing to pay, and all they had to do was take his credits.
Documents were drawn up which appeared legal, and then they were placed in the archives in Gantoc. The papers remain there to this day, having never been challenged.
A month after the transaction was finalized—and the credits shared secretly among the top members of the council, Lion/El included—a massive fire once more ravaged the area. The fire burned for nearly thirty days until the monsoon rains extinguished the blaze. When it was over, nearly all of Dal’s land was now cleared of jungle. The area of the current spaceport occupied the bulk of the flat lowlands, and what would become the city of Kanac began a little further inland and up into the hills.
Lion/El always suspected Dal of starting the fire.
Dal Divisen was instrumental in securing the first major shipments of building materials—mostly prefab construction—that soon began to take shape as the nascent beginnings of a town built over the ashes of the great fire. Two years later, fifty thousand beings reside in Kanac, with hundreds more arriving daily to stake their claim to the dead worlds. Either that or die trying, which was the more likely outcome.
Since that first questionable transaction, Lion/El and Dal had worked closely together. As a result, he knew all of Dal’s secrets, including the fact that he controlled the major raider operations in The Zone. Lion/El knew of the planet Masnin and the treasure stored there, plus a lot more about Dal’s nefarious activities.
And that was why Lion/El had no other option than to link with Dal and tell him what knew of the Human, Jay Williford. He relaxed somewhat when he realized there never was any real possibility of him brokering the deal for the weapons, and especially not twenty thousand of them. And he would never dream of raiding Masnin. That was just crazy talk.
But he was dealing with a Human, and the species was not known for their sane and rational thoughts or deeds.
After Dal cut the link with Lion/El, he was on the verge of a major emotional eruption. His species was known for their volatile tempers; however, Dal had learned to control his, at least most of the time. But this situation pushed his limits. Not only had someone survived the raid on Hax’on, but it was a Human, and one closely associated with Adam Cain. But what upset Dal the most was he’d learned the secret of the planet Masnin. And now the Human had the gall to contemplate a raid on his storage facility on the planet. What made Humans so unstable?
After taking a moment to calm down, Dal set about putting plans in motion. First, he linked with this security force on Masnin and gave them instructions. Next, he located Captain Calos. He was still on Liave-3, apparently having trouble rounding up his pirate crew and learning if any had spoken of the weapons. That tidbit of information only made Dal angrier. He instructed Calos to come to his office for a second meeting.
The next link was to other specialists Dal had in his employ. There was another loose end needing tending. And thanks to Lion/El, he knew right where to send the tailors.
18
Adam Cain was pissed, which was rapidly becoming a habit for him.
He wasn’t a businessman; never had been. He was a soldier, part of a venerable organization that had century-long traditions and procedures. If he needed an answer, all he had to do was look up a reg. Even SEAL operations were run by a set of principles and guidelines, although sometimes it took improvisation for mission success. Even then, it was by the book.
However, running a series of businesses was turning out to be much more challenging than anything he’d ever done before. And now with Riyad off checking on the fate of his secret salvage operation, Adam was covering the outfitting business, while dividing his time running Capt. Cain’s Bar & Grill. The only consolation: it was obvious Riyad had the same problem running a business as Adam did. His books were a mess, and now Adam was trying to make sense of them.
Sherri would be fit to be tied if she ever took a close look at how Riyad ran his side of the partnership. He was way over budget and operating at a deficit. He’d bought too much useless supplies and equipment, while fronting the costs of a dozen salvages over the past six months, with only three making a profit. But one thing Adam gave him, he was creative with his bookkeeping. But it all went bust with his sponsorship of Jay’s last operation. Not only were lives lost, but also valuable equipment and a starship. That was something from which the partnership may never recover. As Adam scrolled through the computer files, it was evident the outfitting business would have to close before it bankrupted them all.
The customers who entered the store at that moment were more a distraction to Adam than a potential source of income, at least they were in his current state of mind. But when first one alien entered, followed by another and then another, Adam took note. Something other than salvage equipment was on the minds of his guests.
There was soon more of a variety of aliens in one place than Adam had seen in quite a while, and nearly all physically fit and imposing creatures. As a precaution, Adam surreptitiously unfastened the safety loop on his MK-47 flash weapon, which he now wore every day. By the time the first group of aliens approached the counter at the back of the building, Adam counted seventeen of them in the store.
A tall, slender, yellow-skinned alien wearing a pair of dark, wraparound sunglasses stepped to the front of the entourage.
“Are you Tarazi?” It was more of a demand than a question, spoken by someone used to giving orders.
“No, I’m not. He’s not here at the moment. What can I do for you?”
The alien studied Adam for a moment through the dark lenses. “You are a Human, as is Tarazi. Are you affiliated?”
“Yeah, we own the store together. What’s this about?”
More of the hulky aliens moved in, flanking Adam.
“I will be direct,” said the alien. “Where are my weapons?”
Adam was taken aback. That was the last thing he expected him to say.
“Weapons? What weapons?”
“You know what weapons I speak of. This company supplied the salvage equipment; you may also be the instigators of the recovery operation.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Adam stood a little straighter, sizing up the competition. Seventeen was pushing it. But then it dawned on him; they wanted information, and until they knew if he could help, they probably wouldn’t try to kill him. Lucky for them.
Another alien stepped up to the counter. He was of a different race than Sunglasses, tall, muscular and imposing. A professional soldier; Adam had seen enough of them in his lifetime to know.
“I believe you know more than you are suggesting,” he said. “Next door is a tavern. Several days ago, there was a shooting there. Do you recall?”
“Yeah, everyone does. What does that have to do with anything?”
Soldier-Boy looked at Sunglasses, and they shared a thought.
“Too coincidental,” said Sunglasses. “You do know where my weapons a
re; there is no denying it.”
Adam shook his head. “I can see you guys are upset, but I’m serious when I tell you I don’t know anything about any weapons. You’re obviously operating on some bad information. Sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“Tarazi,” said Soldier-Boy to Sunglasses. He nodded.
“You say Tarazi is not here. Where is he?” asked the yellow-skinned leader.
That was it for Adam. Either they were going to fight or not. He would just as soon find out without having to go through all this superfluous bullshit.
“That’s none of your business. And now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to ask all of you to leave. I’m trying to run a business here, and if you’re not going to buy anything, then get the hell out.”
Sunglasses puffed out his chest. “You are an arrogant Human, as I have heard is a quality of your race. Do you not understand the danger you are in?”
Soldier-Boy pressed his way in front of Sunglasses. “He understands, Sirous. He is just overconfident regarding his abilities.” The alien stared into Adam’s eyes. “My organization has had much contact with your kind in the past. As a result, I understand the dynamic we face. I came with adequate force, as you can see.”
“You’re Gradis, aren’t you?”
Soldier-Boy nodded approvingly. “You are astute. But are you also rational? That is the question we will soon answer—”
“The customer complaint department is currently closed for business,” said a feminine voice near the front door.
Heads turned to find Sherri Valentine standing in the front doorway; a Xan-fi flash rifle cradled confidently in her hands.
The Cartel captain grinned before turning back to Adam. “Two against my troops is still not sufficient. All a battle will leave are casualties. That is not what we desire. All we want are our weapons returned.”
“I keep telling you, we don’t have your weapons or know anything about them.”
Soldier-Boy nodded. “Now, I believe you; however, your partner Tarazi surely does.” He turned back toward a serious-looking Sherri. “Knowing Humans—and coupled with the seriousness of the situation—I was prompted to take extra precautions before coming here. I see now my instincts were correct.”
Shadows passed behind Sherri. Through the open doorway, more Cartel troops appeared, each armed with Xan-fis. Soldier-Boy turned back to Adam.
“Is this a fight you wish to press? Even if you die in the exchange, we will wait for Tarazi’s return. You will have gained nothing. Please think carefully about your next move.”
“All right,” said Adam. “What happens next? I don’t know when Riyad will be back, and I’m not sure I would feel right letting him walk into a trap. Any suggestions?”
Soldier-Boy looked at Sunglasses—Sirous, as he’d been called earlier. “Hostages? Leverage for when their partner returns?”
“That would be appropriate, Pannel.”
Pannel! Soldier-Boy was named Pannel. Adam really wished people would introduce themselves at the beginning …
Pannel turned to Adam, a satisfied grin on his face. “And that is how reasonable beings negotiate. Please remove your weapons. You are to be taken away and held hostage until your partner complies.”
Adam grimaced. “Yeah, I also don’t think I’d feel right about that, either. As an alternative, why don’t all your people leave and none of you will get hurt.”
Pannel looked disappointed. He shook his head. “I implore you. Do not resist.”
“Too late.”
Sherri reacted first, as she tumbled to the side, breaking the targeting lock on the Xan-fis. The aliens outside opened up with their flash rifles, sending white-hot bolts into the interior. But with Sherri hiding behind the front wall, all the bolts did was kill three of the soldiers in the store. Two of the Cartel fighters reacted to the killing of their companions, not sure where the bolts came from. They fired through the open doorway and into the street. The confusion only lasted a second before the troops began searching for their real targets. Some lived long enough to focus their attention on Sherri. Most didn’t, as the hot-headed blonde rapid fired into the crowd of enemy troops.
With everyone distracted by the firefight at the entrance, Adam grabbed Pannel and pulled him over the counter and onto the floor. He placed a glancing blow to the side of the alien’s face. The slightly-off-target hit saved the alien’s life. Even so, he was now unconscious and out of the fight.
The wall behind Adam became awash with bolt strikes, setting some of the wood on fire and sending a small cascade of embers down on him. Adam pulled his MK from its holster before sitting down on the floor and kicking at the bottom panel of the counter. The wood gave way, opening up a jagged hole. He twisted around and began firing through the opening, aiming at the legs of the aliens spread throughout the store.
But his targets were moving, using the mishmash of equipment, displays and clothing racks for cover. A few of the Cartel troops fell as their legs were shot out from under them. Adam finished them off with more direct shots.
His upgraded ’47 had a level-2 bolt charge of fifteen; even so, he was dry only seconds after the attack began. He reached back and pulled another battery pack out of a loop in his utility belt. Just then, a pair of burly aliens flew over the counter and landed on him. Each had heavy metal clubs in their hands. They began to wail on Adam. Even though the aliens were weaker than a Human, the clubs were more effective than if they’d used their fists. Adam was stunned, but he managed to roll to his side and free up an arm. He blocked the next blow and then landed a fist into the chin of one of his attackers: one hit, one kill. Now there was only one more on this side of the counter to deal with.
Adam worked his legs in front of him, bracing his feet on the alien’s chest. He pushed with all his might, sending the lightweight, thin-boned creature flying into the air. He hit the back wall and rebounded, smashing his head into the edge of the counter as he fell. Adam rolled over again and peered through the hole.
He couldn’t see Sherri.
He stood up, poking his head just above counter level, looking for her. Two brilliant flashes blinded him momentarily as bolts splashed nearby. Armed soldiers were still in the store, and in position to cover the counter.
“Sherri! Are you all right?”
No answer. Shit!
Out of desperation, Adam crawled to the end of the counter and looked into the store. It was hard to see, as a thick cloud of white smoke now filled the interior, the residual effect of dozens of bolt launches. He crouched, preparing to make a run toward the side door, leading into Cain’s. That’s when he saw stars and tasted the dirt, his head bouncing off the floor.
A moment later, he was rolled over, his mind in a daze but able to make out faces. The Cartel leader Pannel was standing over him, his mouth draining blood and the left side of his face swollen and red. He was also holding a metal club in his hand, like one carried by his recently deceased troops.
Slowly shaking off the cobwebs, Adam realized his hands were being clad in heavy metal shackles.
“Special restraints,” said Pannel. “You see, I know my prey, aware of the phenomenal strength your savage species has exhibited in the past.”
“Sherri? Where’s Sherri?”
“The female was shot, yet, as you well know, it did not kill her. Rather, it turned her into a raving beast. She has subsequently been subdued and restrained. The two of you will now be taken to a location in Kanac and held there until your companion returns. At that time, he will cooperate; otherwise you and the female will die.” Pannel shook his head. “You have suffered for no reason. A simple surrender would have been better.”
“I thought you knew Humans. We don’t surrender simply.”
Pannel reached up to gently probe his damaged face, grimacing as he did so. “That part of the lesson I apparently missed.” He addressed his subordinates. “Take him away.”
19
Nineteen miles away in Kanac, Jay Williford steppe
d from the shower in the small, bare-bones room Lion/El set up for him. He was revitalized, and now, with only a towel wrapped around his still dripping torso, he sat at a small round table where a tray of processed food waited.
Although feeling refreshed, he still had a lot of troubling thoughts rumbling around in his mind. It all seemed so overwhelming. But at least now he had an ally and someone who knew his way around Kanac and Liave-3. The rotund, four-armed alien had resources as well. If Riyad wouldn’t join him in another attempt at recovering the superweapons, then Jay had a backup.
After eating, he put on the pants Cazaa provided, finding them much more comfortable and not as smelly the second time around.
The room he was in was much like the bulk of Kanac’s transient residences. Four basic walls made of a composite material that fit together like an erector set. Not a lot of building trades were represented in the diverse population of the city, so the simplest method was often the best. Just slap some structures together, run a power line from a nearby cold fusion reactor, and you were in business. Most of the buildings also had cisterns on their roofs to collect the ample rainwater that then fed through pipes embedded in the walls. Sewage was flushed through a central pipe and dumped into the closest stream or river. Other than that, there wasn’t much more to do. Beds were made of chopped foam, and the furniture was either snap-together or constructed out of local materials by street urchins trying to make a few extra credits.
As mentioned, this was how the bulk of the citizens of Kanac lived. The more affluent were up the hill, in much nicer accommodations. Jay stood at the small open window, allowing a light breeze to dry and cool his body; there was no heat or air conditioning in the room. From here, he could see where the wealthy lived, thinking that someday that could be him.
Then he caught himself. Hell, if I make this score, Kanac is the last place I’d want to live. He could even return to Earth with enough credits to live like a king for the rest of his life. And for sure, he’d track down his old buddy, David Lender, just to rub it in.