by T. R. Harris
Cartel runners often used their own ships to haul the gang’s contraband, be it drugs, guns or slaves. They didn’t earn a lot for their efforts, which often meant their spaceship weren’t very well maintained. When they broke down—and they did often—it was imperative that they be fixed quickly and discreetly. That’s where Copernicus came in. He would take any job, and keep his mouth shut. That made him a favorite of the Cartels, and not only the Gradis. There were five different gangs operating within the Kidis Frontier, but Gradis was the largest.
Frandon G’Bur was a brilliant organizer back when Copernicus knew him, but more of a behind-the-scenes guy than the bombastic, forceful leader type. However, times had changed for the cartels. When Lila took over the Expansion—and by extension, the Union—she set out a strict law-and order policy which extended even to the fringe areas of the galaxy such as the Frontier. The Juireans had once occupied the Kidis in an attempt to stage an invasion of the Union from the neighboring spur of the galaxy where the Frontier was located. Adam Cain had messed up their plans when he took a trans-dimensional starship—powered by Zee, the recently-discovered service module of the Aris—and proceeded to launch a scorched earth campaign from the Kidis all the way to the planet Juir. Union forces followed in his wake, and when he was done, the Juirean grip on the galaxy—including the Kidis—had been broken.
That’s when Adam’s daughter Lila took over and moved the capital of the galaxy to her homeworld of Formil. Being an immortal mutant genius, no one could stand against her, and for the first time in four thousand years, there was peace in the galaxy.
After the Juireans left the Kidis Frontier, there was a major effort to make the region more civilized, more organized, at least enough to join either the Expansion or the Union, or to create a third galactic empire. The influence of the cartels began to wane, or at least for their most-abhorrent criminal activities, such as slave-trading. But even budding empires needed weapons, and the cartels were the most-natural conduit for such commodities. And drugs. The truth was that people—be they Human or alien—always needed drugs.
As a consequence of the new direction the Gradis Cartel was taking, they needed more of a Chief Executive Officer rather than a Godfather. Frandon G’Bur was the natural choice.
The Humans still needed independent transportation, free of the cab driver’s scrutiny. So, in a moment of weakness and desperation, Sherri came up with a plan she truly felt sorry for.
She had the transport driver drop her off, leaving Coop in the car. Copernicus then instructed the driver to continue on before having him turn around and drop him off a little further down the road.
The driver called into his base and reported that the fare had been dropped off and then continued down the road looking for a new customer. That’s when Sherri appeared and flagged him down. He didn’t call in the stop, since he knew Sherri. Had she left something in the car? He pulled over…and that’s when she knocked him unconscious and took the transport. She sincerely hoped the driver wouldn’t get in trouble for getting his car stolen. It wasn’t his fault.
She picked up Copernicus and the pair proceeded to the Cartel headquarters to scope out the landing field and the grouping of huge, oddly shaped buildings that made up the complex. Coop figured Frandon wouldn’t keep the dark matter collector on the ship; it was small enough to be carried into one of the buildings. And something with such value would be placed closed to the leader, just so he could gloat over it. Frandon would have the device with him.
But where was Frandon?
Before leaving the spaceport terminal, the Humans had bought a pair of huge raincoats, although it wasn’t raining. But the outfits had hoods. They also picked up a pair of binoculars, knowing they would have to survey the complex. Now Coop stood on top of the stolen cab looking over the low wall of the complex.
As mentioned, there was very little crime on Navior, and especially against Cartel members. That was also true for the organization’s headquarters. Sure, there were guards around, but not many. The syndicate’s enemies were off planet, in the form of governments and other cartels. They had very little to fear on the surface.
Even so, Sherri and Coop figured Frandon would expect them to come after the collector. It would be suicide, of course, but they were Humans after all, so nothing could be counted out. If anything, extra guards would be posted and sentries on the lookout.
“He’s in that large bubble-like building on the left,” Coop reported. “It’s the tallest, and big-shots always want the penthouse suite. The other buildings are offices or apartments.”
The apartment building was a long, six story combination of domes stacked on top of each other. Large windows, spacious balconies and manicured landscaping all made the cluster housing a nice benefit for the higher-up capos of the Cartel. Coop frowned. They never offered him a nice apartment with all utilities paid and free cable….
He hopped down from the top of the car.
“Hopefully they’re having the same trouble with their CW links as we did and haven’t cut a deal yet,” Sherri said. She looked to her left and the cartel spaceport, with the silhouettes of several starships off in the distance. “Once we get the thing, we still need a way off the planet, and chem drive will only get us so far. After that we better make sure the gravity drive is working.”
“And we won’t be able to disable any of the Cartel ships. They’ll be on us like stink on s—”
“Then maybe we should hide out on the surface, at least until we can close a deal with one of the bidders. Then we’ll have the money to get away.”
Coop smiled. “Do you realize how big a load sixty million credits would be? We’d have one hell of a time hiding that. And when we left the planet we’d have to hire an army of guards just to make sure no one steals it from us.”
“You wouldn’t have them put the credits into an account somewhere?”
“After what happened to us on Earth? Not a chance. Besides, I’ve dealt with people like this before. Real deals are always in cash. We’d only tip our hand that we’re rookies if we did otherwise.”
“I bow to your superior knowledge of back-alley deals and Cartel cutthroats. So, how are we going to get the DMC?” Sherri asked.
“I thought we could go in with guns a-blazing and kill every alien in sight.”
“Now you’re channeling Adam again. Not that I’m not tempted, but let’s try the subtle approach first.” She leaned over and gave Coop a hard, sloppy kiss. “In case we don’t make it out alive.”
“Not going to happen,” Copernicus said with a smile. “We’re the heroes; we always make it out alive.”
They spent the next hour driving around the complex before deciding their best approach would be from the spaceport. There were few guards along the way and even fewer four-wheeled carts moving between the port and the complex. It was nearing dawn, and already the sky to the east was growing lighter. This was the time when guards were tired and the new ones hadn’t started their shifts.
With the huge coats covering their bodies and dragging the ground—the garments were made for the taller Navioreans—Sherri and Copernicus hopped the wall surrounding the spaceport and ran among the silent starships, towering above them like dinosaurs in the night. There was a maintenance shack along one side of the field with an electric cart parked outside. A dim light burned within the building.
It only took Coop a second to take out the worker inside the shack. The cart didn’t need a key, and a moment later they were cruising along at the breakneck speed of eight miles per hour so as to not draw any attention.
They received no challenges as they entered the main complex and pulled up to the base of the tallest building. It was a decidedly alien structure similar to the others surrounding it, only larger and taller. This is where the leader of the galaxy’s largest criminal syndicate would live. Looking to be made of hardened polyurethane foam, it began with a grouping of twenty-one domes at ground level, and then smaller groupings stacked on
top, reaching into the sky. Balconies and windows were cut within the levels all the way up. At the top was a single dome with a wrap-around terrace and wide windows.
Coop continued around the base of the building, avoiding the main entrance and the cadre of guards on duty. There were several side entrances, used by workers and for deliveries. He parked the cart within a row of others before he and Sherri headed for an open door that a native, pulling a handcart with boxes loaded on top, had just entered. No one stopped them as they followed the native into the building.
The bright light inside assailed their eyes, blinding them momentarily. The room was filled with workers, all preparing for the new day in the huge building. There was food to prepare, housekeeping to be done and maintenance to be performed. Coop saw a worker’s tool belt lying on a table and scooped it up. They stepped into a long corridor and hurried away.
Fifty feet along, they heard a group of aliens approaching down the curved hallway, talking loudly as they drew near. Coop rushed to a panel embedded in the wall, pulled out an extracting tool and removed the cover. He and Sherri buried their hooded heads inside the opening, tools in their hands, as the group of nine guards paraded by. No one questioned the maintenance crew at work in the corridor, even if they were in raincoats instead of uniforms. It was the end of the shift and the guards were going home.
Like in all tall buildings there were elevators, but the bank of doors they came to were color coded. They had no idea which one would take them to the top. Frandon would take the highest floor in the complex so he could look down upon his empire. But which elevator would take them to the penthouse?
They looked for one with a security lock but found none. There had to be an express elevator, but they had no idea of the color priority of the natives. Did green mean the same here as it did on Earth? Or was gold the universal sign for wealth and power? They studied the doors, having to duck around a corner when one opened and two aliens exited the cab.
The Gradis Cartel was made up of hundreds of different species, so the number of native Navioreans was fewer within the building as compared to other species. This helped the Humans, since their size and odd clothing fit in well with the menagerie of other creatures now walking about.
Sherri noticed an elevator door at the center of the row. Thinking how the building tapered to a point at the center of the structure, she reasoned the other elevators could go only so far before reaching the limit for that part of the building. The one in the center could go all the way up. She rushed to the door and pressed the panel.
The Humans rushed inside and were rewarded with only two buttons on the wall. The bottom button would send the elevator down, the other one up…all the way to the top. The door closed and the journey began.
They took out their MK-17s and checked the settings; level-two, good enough to kill most aliens, and full charges. They wished they had the new MK-88X model, but they were on the missing starship. Even without them, Sherri and Copernicus were ready when the door opened.
It was a long ride to the top. Fortunately, there were no other stops along the way, and when the door opened, their intuition was rewarded. They were in a circular corridor with plush carpeting, walls with waves of built-in relief and strange artwork resting in various crevasses. A number of wide doors lined the corridor, leading to rooms that would reach to the outer walls of the dome. There was also an odd smell, which wasn’t unusual. All aliens had an odd smell.
Coop led the way into the corridor, with Sherri backing him up. All was quiet, too quiet. There wasn’t a guard in sight, which was unusual if Frandon was expecting them. Maybe they got here faster than he was—
The corridor suddenly went pitch black, followed by heavy footsteps on the carpeting. Coop was laid out by a heavy blow to the back of his head, while Sherri took an electric shock to the chest. Neither of them saw their attackers before falling to the soft, almost welcoming, cushion of the floor.
65
Consciousness came reluctantly to Copernicus. He remembered the room going dark and the teeth-jarring hit to the back of his skull by something hard and metallic. Now he was on his back, on a soft bed of some kind, hesitant to open his eyes knowing that the bright light penetrating his eyelids would bring even more pain to his already throbbing head.
“Stop it!” he heard Sherri cry out from somewhere nearby. Now he would have to open his eyes. He had to save his girlfriend from the alien horde.
But it wasn’t a horde of aliens, only three. Two were holding menacing looking flash weapons—undoubtedly set at level-one. The other was smiling down at him through yellow teeth and radiant red lips. It was Frandon G’Bur.
“My old friend Copernicus Smith,” the alien said. He spoke with a slight vibrato, more a gargling sound than anything. “Please recover quickly; we have so much to speak of.”
Coop forced his way into a sitting position on the wide, armless cushion that served as an alien couch. “It would be easier if you hadn’t hit me so hard.” He looked over at a red-face Sherri Valentine, who sat in chair not far away, glaring up at one of the guards. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, if this bug-like thing will stop poking me. I’m not trying to escape, just fix my hair.”
“You look beautiful, my dear.”
She flipped him off.
Copernicus looked at the leader of the Gradis Cartel. “So, Frandon, what do you want to talk about, the weather?”
The alien frowned. “No matter how much contact I have with Humans I will never understand your speech patterns. No, I do not want to speak of the weather, but rather of a dark matter collector and the millions of credits we will receive for its sale. I want to thank you for bringing it to me. There had been rumors of a theft of a valuable ancient artifact, and when I researched, I learned the true nature of the device. Again, I thank you.”
“I don’t suppose you’d pay us a commission for bringing it to Navior? It only seems fair.”
“If you were still in my employ, that might be considered. But now that I know of your true affiliation while infiltrating the Cartel, I believe traitors and spies deserve nothing…not even their lives.”
“So why are we still alive?”
Frandon laughed. “Because it is pointless to kill unconscious creatures. It is better to revive them so they are aware of the fate that awaits them.”
“That makes sense, but I’d really like to stick around to see how much you get for the collector. That would really make me sick, seeing how many credits I just lost.”
“That I lost, too,” Sherri said.
“Of course…that we lost.”
“A form of mental torture?” Frandon asked, appearing intrigued. “The idea is of interest. However, you are Humans, and Humans have a habit of turning misfortune into opportunity. Yes, I know of the exploits you have shared recently with the famous Adam Cain.” He turned to Sherri. “And Sherri Valentine, you are nearly as famous as your species mate. My friend Copernicus Smith has long to go before he equals that of even your notoriety.”
He waved his arms at the huge room they were in, with the light of early morning streaming in through bronze-tinted windows. “And you did manage to reach all the way here, and within hours of your ship being taken. That is impressive…as well as troubling. It is all the more reason I should end your lives now.”
“Ah, c’mon, Frandon,” Coop said. “Keep us around awhile just to toy with us.”
“Toy?”
“Play with, tease…even torture, as you said. It’ll be fun. When was the last time you had fun?”
The alien stared at Coop with an amused expression. “Perhaps you are right. I have never killed a Human before. I should savor the experience. Very well, you may live until the sale of the collector is finalized. Then I will kill you.”
“That works for me.” Copernicus beamed. He looked at Sherri. “How about you?”
“Works for me, too. So, when does all this selling begin?”
Aliens can be
so gullible sometimes, Copernicus thought. Frandon G’Bur was no exception.
The Humans were locked away in a side room, which actually meant the two guards were stationed outside with flash weapons, since none of the doors had locks.
“I wish my ATD still worked,” Sherri whispered.
“That’s okay, mine does,” said Copernicus. “And as you saw aboard the MK ship, I am getting better at it.”
“Anything you can tell me?”
“Six flash weapons on the floor, but only two are moving. The rest must be stored away or in drawers. No locks on the doors, but I don’t think it would do us any good to take out the guards. We’d have to fight all the way to the ground floor after that, and we still don’t know where the DMC is.”
There was a window in the room that overlooked the Cartel complex toward the spaceport. From here they could plan an escape route—once they made it out of the building.
The DMC was the size of a large suitcase and surprisingly light for something that could pull dark matter particles out of the air and place them into secure holding cubes made of an unknown substance. They’d never heard of any raw material having to be fed into the machine, so they had no idea where the containment material came from. But the supply the collector had within it seemed to do the trick. Either one of the Humans could carry the collector with ease, especially in the light gravity of Navior.
If necessary, they had already decided to leave the supply of cubes behind. Without the main device, they were useless—or at least that’s what they hoped. The collector was the most valuable item, maybe not as much without the cubes, but who was counting? Anything they could get at this point was more than they had.
66
Two hours later Frandon had the guards escort the prisoners to another part of the penthouse dome. It was a large room, with expansive windows and patio doors, and filled with the pale-yellow light of early dawn on the planet Navior.