by T. R. Harris
Adam activated an external security shield, which hopefully would keep most of the curious away. He shrugged. He’d done this countless times before with other starships. It never worked then; why would he think it would work here?
If the Klin had once used this planet as a staging area for their robot invasion of the Expansion, the locals would know about it. This wasn’t a planet where people settled down for good. They moved around constantly. Ship’s crews would know everything that’s going on throughout the region. And they could all be found in any of the numerous local dive-bars located outside the grounds of the spaceport.
The place was a shithole, with every building they passed in immediate need of serious repair. And bums lay sleeping—or dead—on the dirt sidewalk, while piles of garbage and dried feces were everywhere. Adam had experienced some nasty places in his life—some on Earth—but this one topped his list of the most offensive.
Sherri and Adam passed several hole-in-the-wall establishments before coming to one that actually had a lighted sign and a series of intact windows, giving a hint as to the size of the bar.
They stepped inside and were immediately hit with a blast of fresh-smelling air from a vent in the ceiling. This came as a shock since most spacer-bars throughout the galaxy dealt with the pungent smell of their patrons by not dealing with the situation at all. This place attempted to head off the offensive mix of odors before it became a problem. Adam was impressed.
The interior was also brighter than he expected, although the purple tint was omnipresent. They took a table near the left-side wall and sat down, immediately placing their fingers in the blood sampling box attached to the tabletop.
An alien with a face full of short spikes came up to the table, dragging a useless leg behind him while using a small wheeled crutch attached to his shoulder to move across the wooden floor.
“Humans, you are,” he said as he hovered near the table. “I have seen your kind here before, but rarely. Mostly from the vids do have I experience. I am Vosbin. I am the owner of this feed station.”
Adam nodded and stretched out a thin grin, careful not to expose his teeth too much. This was the kind of place where death challenges were taken seriously.
“Nice to meet you, Vosbin. I’m impressed with your, your station, especially the vent at the front door.”
“I do it for my comfort, as well as my customers. If I must work here, I do not wish exposure to the scent of others.”
“Understood. What intoxicants do you recommend?”
The alien checked a datapad he carried in his hand, which would by now display the blood signature of the Humans. “A number three is compatible. None of my other Human customers have complained.”
“And we need something to eat,” Sherri added. “I’m starving.”
“A bowl of cooked critchens; I would recommend. It is local meat with a sauce seasoning. Again, Humans have eaten it in the past without dying.”
Adam didn’t know if the alien was being facetious or factual—probably both. Either way, he liked Vosbin.
“Very good. We will follow your recommendations.”
After the alien left, Sherri and Adam surveyed the room. Most eyes were upon them. There were about thirty creatures, most in clusters at the tables or as individuals at the ubiquitous counter. Most of the customers looked away when meeting the eyes of the Humans; a few didn’t. This was expected.
So, what next? Sherri asked in his mind.
First, we eat; I’m hungry, too. Then we step it up a notch.
We’re not here really looking for the Klin, you know, Sherri reminded him. We’re here to get noticed so the Klin will find us.
I think we’ve accomplished that. I detected a substantial uptick in comm links the moment we walked in. Someone’s getting the word out.
A moment later, Vosbin arrived with their drinks and bowl of steaming meat, looking like chicken fingers in a thick, dark sauce. It smelled good, which was an added benefit of the neutral odors in the room; Adam could actually smell the food.
Sherri beat him to the bowl, using her fingers to pull a strip from the pile. She blew on her fingers—the meat was hot—before snipping off an end with her teeth. Cautiously, she let the meat reach her tongue. She raised her eyebrows.
“Damn…that’s good.”
“Tastes like chicken, right?”
“No, beef mostly. Try one.
Ten minutes later, they ordered another round of drinks and another helping of the meat. Adam was wolfing down the food with reckless abandon.
“I’m hungry all the time,” he said. “It’s a bitch.”
“I think your increased metabolism has something to do with that,” Sherri—the former veterinary student—remarked. “When your mutant brain cells have your body working at a higher level, you’re burning calories at an accelerated rate.”
“But I’m normal now.”
“Maybe, maybe not. You’re probably always right on the edge, possibly a defense mechanism.”
“You could be right. But right now, I want some more of those finger-licking-good critchens. I wonder if they have franchise opportunities available? These would be a hit back on Earth.”
The humor was genuine and welcomed, causing the two Humans to relax, forgetting for a moment the critical nature of their mission. When Vosbin returned a few minutes later, Adam laid a pair of one hundred Juirean credit chips on the table.
“That is far too much,” the alien said.
“Keep it,” Adam said. “But I was wondering if you could help us out?”
The spikes on the alien face turned hard, a reaction Adam suspected was anger. “I am a station owner. I try to avoid such overtures as they may bring harm to some of my patrons over others. By remaining neutral and uninvolved, I survive.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“If it is worth that many credits, it is something I do not want to involve myself with. There are others here who might help, but not me.”
“I just want to know if you’ve seen any Klin around here?”
“Klin!” The alien’s proclamation was loud enough to be heard throughout half the room.
Well, that stepped it up a notch, Sherri thought through her ATD.
“There are no Klin here. Why would there be?”
“I’m just asking.”
“You must be insane, Human,” Vosbin said. “What creature would deliberately seek out the Klin?”
“If not here, then I’m wondering if you’ve heard of them on other planets nearby.”
Vosbin scooped up the Juirean credits. “I will retrieve your surplus.”
“No, keep it. The critchens were excellent.”
“I will give you the surplus, and then I will ask you to leave.”
“I thought we were friends, Vosbin,” Adam said.
The alien shook his head. “In what universe was that ever a possibility? You come asking on topics that are dangerous, with motives I suspect only you know. We are not friends; who could be friends with Humans?”
The alien left before Adam could say anything in his defense. But now the bar was abuzz. He detected more comm devices being activated. Before Vosbin could return with his change, Adam took Sherri by the arm. “We’re leaving. I’m sure someone’s planning a reception for us outside. Let’s not keep them waiting.”
Sherri grabbed her half-full drink and drained it. “A little liquid courage never hurt,” she said. “Lead on, Captain Cain.”
It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the stronger purple in the air outside. They turned left down the street, in the direction of the spaceport. From the various MK flash weapons and activated comm phones, Adam could tell they were being followed from the bar.
“There’s another concentration of flash weapons up ahead,” Sherri said verbally. “Some are on the roofs.”
“I got ‘em—”
The net that fell over them from above was made of black braided rope with a thin meta
l cord running through it. Adam picked up on the scent of fish in the material. If the fishermen on this planet needed a net with a metal cord in it, what the hell were they trying to catch?
Adam and Sherri knelt to the ground. The net was heavy, but Adam’s instantly activated mutant strength was able to handle it. He huddled over Sherri to keep most of the weight off of her, as a group of assorted aliens came out of the purple shadows and stood on the edges of the net, holding thick wooden clubs in their hands, ready to pounce.
Do we need these people? Sherri asked.
No. I think they’re just here to relieve us of our valuables…and possibly our lives.
Adam took hold of the net and pulled the ropes apart. The material frayed, and the metal cord snapped. He tore open a section so he and Sherri could stand up.
The half-dozen assailants looked at each other, surprised and confused at what just happened. One abandoned his club and reached for his weapon. Adam shook his head, appearing defiant and unafraid. The attitude was understood—even flash weapons wouldn’t be enough against the Humans. A moment later, all six of the aliens ran off in six different directions.
“Let’s get to the spaceport,” Adam said, disgusted. “It’ll take time for word to get back to the Klin—if at all. And this place is too much of a shithole for my tastes.”
Ten minutes later, they approached the Juirean ET, only to find an alien lying unconscious on the broken tarmac with another crouched beside him. The one on his knees looked up at the pair of Humans.
“He was only curious; he meant no harm to the ship.”
“There’s a sign posted,” Adam barked. “It should have scanned your translators and displayed the information in your native language. What part of Stay the Fuck Away didn’t you understand?”
Sherri went to the unconscious alien and felt around for a pulse. It took a moment, but she eventually found it. “He’ll be okay. He’s just stunned.”
The other alien rose to his feet. “You are Adam Cain,” he stated.
Adam’s shoulders slumped. Damn, isn’t there anywhere in the galaxy where I’m not recognized? It’s hard to be on secret missions when everyone knows your face.
“I have spent much time in the inner Expansion,” the alien continued. “Your image is displayed quite often during the broadcasts.”
“What do you want? I’m sure you’re not here to admire the spaceship or to get my autograph.”
“I have received word that you seek information about the Klin. I may have such information…for a reward.”
“If your information is worthy, you’ll get a reward. What do you know?”
“Andahar. It is a planet eight light-years from here. It was once a manufacturing center for the Klin.”
“It isn’t anymore?” Sherri asked.
“From what cargo merchants say, the Klin took over the manufacture of their robots before abandoning the planet over three standard years ago.”
“Why haven’t we heard of this?” Sherri asked.
“The population survived, yet they fear a return of the Klin…or worse. They do not wish to have a force of Expansion military come to their world to learn of the Klin, to be considered traitors for their conscripted service. They fear reprisals from both the Klin and the Expansion.”
“Where are the Klin now?”
The creature frowned. “They are in the Expansion, from what the broadcasts say.”
“You haven’t seen any around here?”
“As you know, the Klin do not reveal themselves often. They do not go for casual walks on other worlds so all can see.”
Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out three hundred Juirean credits. He handed them to the alien. “Here you go, smartass. Thanks for the info. Now you and your buddy get out of the lift-off radius.”
Sherri had the rear airlock activated through her ATD and was already making her way to the pilothouse. Adam was a step behind her. They watched as the first alien helped the other to his feet and then practically dragged him away from the ET. Two minutes later, the ship was in the upper atmosphere, leaving the strange purple shading behind.
Fire up the engines, Riyad, Adam signaled. We’re going to a place called Andahar.
So, when do the Klin show up and take you to their leader?
Give it time, Mr. Tarazi. The game has only just begun.
10
Three excruciatingly boring days later, Sherri and Adam were about to kill each other. The cockpit of the ET was only forty feet in diameter with a single fold-down cot in the back near the airlock, requiring the two-person crew to sleep in shifts. There was an alien-designed grooming station—with no privacy—and a small food processor serving just the basics. And except for the solid deck below their feet, where most of the electronic components stored, the entire arrangement was open to the eerie emptiness of space. It was like living in a fishbowl with stars as the curious watching their every move.
Adam was in the pilot seat, while Sherri dozed on the cot. They hadn’t spoken in twelve hours, not after their last meaningless flare-up. Although his mutant brain cells allowed him to recall every word of the argument, he still didn’t understand what it was about. But it was enough for him that all the huffing and puffing had tired Sherri out to the point where she fell asleep. For all he cared, she could stay in the cot for the next two days until they reached Andahar. In fact, it would be better if—
The inertia compensator saved Adam from smashing headlong into the forward glass of the canopy when the generators suddenly wound down, and the ship dropped out of the deep gravity-well. A Hollywood special-effects team would have added the sound of screeching tires to the scene, but in the vacuum of space there was only silence after the generators shut down.
“What happened?” Sherri asked from behind the pilot’s station.
Adam scanned the controls. “We just passed through a damping field; it knocked us out of the well.”
“So just some random damping field, or was it something intentional?”
“Since I’ve never heard of a naturally-occurring damping field, I would have to say the latter.”
“Finally…something to do around here.”
Riyad, we just hit a damping field. Looks like the Klin are nearby.
I’ll back off. We don’t want to get caught in the same thing.
“Okay…there they are,” Adam said as contacts popped onto his proximity screen. “Damn, nine of them. They appear to be the smaller attack saucers.”
“I hope they don’t attack first and ask questions later.”
“Good point. Maybe we should slip into our environment suits just in case.”
A few minutes later, the pair was suited up and watching as a squadron of Klin-style spaceships surrounded the ET. Small rockets flared out from a pair of the alien ships—two each—and struck the bulky gravity generators flanking the small crew pod. Cables were attached to the rockets, and as soon as barbed spikes sank into the hull of the ET, the ships pulled away, taking the generators with them.
Alarms sounded within the pod as several prominent cracks snaked through the canopy. Sherri and Adam grabbed canisters of sealing foam and began spraying the cracks. That stopped most of the outflow, but not all. Adam took a quick inventory. There were two extra air tanks for the spacesuits and about fifteen minutes of atmosphere in the pod. He looked out at the starships outside, hovering about two hundred yards from the ET, wondering what they would do next.
Sherri was watching the aliens, too. “That was rude,” she said. “And now that they’ve made a mess of our ship, they better hurry up. We don’t have a lot of reserves.”
“If they wanted us dead, they would have launched a couple of bolts into us by now. As to why they ripped the generators off, that was rather impulsive.”
A small shuttlecraft pulled away from one of the Klin ships and moved towards the ET. It came at an excessive speed, causing the Humans to lean back in their seats when the hull slammed into the forward canopy, sp
lintering the glass even more. Escaping air fractured the glass the rest of the way, and soon Adam and Sherri were sitting in the command chairs, the cockpit exposed to open space, and a shiny silver hull intruding only a few feet away.
The Klin ship rotated around, until an airlock hatch was exposed, an amber light on the control panel.
The two Humans released safety harnesses and made their way in the zero gravity over the mangled remains of the control station. Adam gripped a holding bar next to the hatch while taking Sherri in his other hand. Sherri pulled back on the release latch.
The door slid open, and the pair climbed inside the small airlock. The hatch closed automatically, and air filled the room. The inner door opened, and two space suited Klin, each holding advanced MK flash weapons, greeted them with a wave of the handguns, calling them into the interior of the small shuttle.
The ship sped away from the broken remains of the Express Transport, leaving Adam questioning how the Juireans would handle the news that their precious starship was in ruins…and whether or not they’d hold him responsible. Knowing the Juireans, that was a given.
Riyad, can you hear me? Looks like we’ve made contact.
Great. Not sure where you are exactly, but we’re ready to follow your lead.
Good. We’ve just docked with a larger ship. We should be heading out soon.
11
But that wasn’t the case.
Two hours later, the squad of Klin starships was still in the same place, refusing to move.
“I repeat, where is your team?” asked the leader of the Klin, a tall creature with silver skin and wearing an equally silver uniform. It was hard to distinguish where the skin ended, and the clothing began.
“I told you, it’s just the two of us. We’re on an independent scouting mission. No one else could fit in the Juirean spaceship.”
“You are Adam Cain; you always travel with an entourage of assistants.”
“Hey, we’re not his assistants,” Sherri protested. “We’re…colleagues.”