by T. R. Harris
Adam, Riyad and Sherri had been here before, Riyad during his search for the elusive Kracori, and Adam and Sherri when they came to rescue him. That was a while ago and was a memory most wished to forget.
They paid the guides and sent them on their way. If everything went well with the Olypon, they’d let the natives lead them out the next time, and hopefully a hell of a lot wealthier than they were going in.
To Arieel’s relief, Lila was waiting for them on the other side of the Corridor. They moved the glowing egg into the Davion, and once it cooled, Lila stepped out.
There was an emotional reunion between mother and daughter, even though they’d been apart for only sixteen days. Once things settled down, Lila told the story of the final hours of Frandon G’Bur and his subsequent demise.
She slipped a small plastic box across the table to Arieel. “I brought you a gift, a reminder of this episode which should bring you closure.”
Curious what it could be, Arieel pulled the box to her and removed the lid. She screamed.
“Lila, how foul!”
Lila frowned. “I do not understand?” she said. “Are you not pleased with your gift?”
“I am sorry, but no. This is…disgusting.”
The rest of the team stood and moved to hover over Arieel’s shoulder, looking into the box. It was the bloody severed hand of Frandon G’Bur.
Adam smiled; at least he assumed it was Frandon’s. He placed a calming hand on Arieel’s shoulder.
“It’s the thought that counts.” He placed the lid on the box and removed it from the table.
“Have I offended you, mother?” asked Arieel’s genius—yet naïve—daughter.
“No, you have not offended me. Yet your gift—although well-intentioned—is, well, sickening.”
Lila nodded. “I believe I now understand your reaction. It is not the fact that it is Frandon’s hand, but the form in which it was presented. Perhaps I should have had it cleaned and mounted first. Would you like that better?”
“If I must have the gift, then that would be more acceptable.”
“Very well, then that is what I will do.”
Lila quickly put the episode aside, her expression changing to a look of mild anger, her eyes locked on Tidus. She didn’t say anything at first, letting the Juirean squirm, while the team wondered what was going on.
“I also obtained some very interesting information from the surviving leaders of the Cartel,” she began, her eyes still locked on the Juirean. “It appears Frandon received an anonymous message regarding the parameters of the task and the credits being offered. It was from this message that he launched his campaign to capture my parents.”
“We expected that,” Adam said. “I’m surprised the Olypon didn’t broadcast it out across the galaxy.”
“But they did not. As we’ve been told, the assignment was of a private nature, given exclusively to Lo’ol. Yet this message provided detailed information, not only of the need for someone to repair the TD portal, but also about the wealth that was to be found in this lost universe, including references to the dark matter source. However, what I found most interesting: It also contained a strategy for achieving the objective of the assignment…namely the abduction of you and Arieel to attract Panur and myself.”
All eyes were now on Tidus.
“You don’t say?” said Adam. “Now I wonder who would have had all that information, not only about the prospector and the dark matter power source, but also about the connection between Arieel, me and Lila?”
“Would you care to revise your statement?” Sherri asked the Juirean in her best imitation of a cagy police detective.
Tidus tried to grin. “It all worked out in the end, did it not?”
“You bastard!” Copernicus yelled.
“There was no danger, not really,” Tidus said in his defense.
“Maybe not for Adam and Arieel, but for the rest of us. We were just baggage.”
“But there was danger, and for Lila and Panur as well,” Arieel pointed out. “They were cast in ice.”
“I say we toss him out the airlock,” Coop said. “Let him get a taste of what it feels like to become a popsicle.”
Arieel and Tidus looked at him, frowning. They had no idea what a popsicle was.
Adam stepped into the debate. “Why, Tidus? Why did you go through all this trouble? You were taking a really big risk.”
“Do you not believe it was worthwhile? An unimaginable fortune…for all of us. Yet I truly believed that only voluntary cooperation by Lila and Panur would work. Whoever forced their appearance would pay a terrible price, and I was right.”
“And you wanted to cover your ass,” Adam stated.
“I say we abandon this folly and return to Formil immediately,” Arieel announced. “We cannot work for beings with such devious intentions.”
“Eh, let’s…let’s not go overboard,” Coop stammered. He may be against the Juirean, but he wasn’t against getting rich.
“I agree,” said Tidus, his comment eliciting a series of head jerks in his direction. “You cannot blame the Olypon. They knew nothing of the strategy.”
“I know, it was all Lo’ol’s idea,” Adam said. “But now that we’re here, I’m wondering why the hell we need you at all?” He held up his hand. “And no, we’re not going to toss him out the airlock. We’ll leave him on Olypon. He may be a backstabbing bastard but I can’t see what laws he’s broken.”
“No laws? He conspired with Frandon to kidnap us,” Sherri stated emphatically.
“Is that right?” Adam asked the Juirean.
He shook his head. “I did not. All I did was send a message…anonymously. Frandon had no idea it came from me.”
“I don’t care if he’s broken laws or not,” Coop said. “It’s not right that we keep him around to share in our bounty.”
“I think that’s a given,” Riyad said. “He’s out of the deal.”
“That you cannot do,” Tidus stated defiantly.
“And why is that?” Adam asked.
“Because I hold the contract.”
Adam shook his head, along with just about everyone else in the room. “What does that mean? How can you hold the contract? The contract to what?”
Tidus surveyed the faces in the room. “I suppose now would be a good time for the truth.”
“Ya think!” Sherri said.
He smiled sheepishly at the fired-up blonde. “I shall admit; it has been me all along. I received the initial contact from the Olypon while still with Priority Acquisitions.” He raised his hand to stop the wave of questions being shouted at him. “Please, let me explain. The Olypon needed the mutants to repair their trans-dimensional portal array, and what better organization to contact when seeking elusive beings than PA. They innocently—and naively—told me more than they should have, information beyond the scope of a trace-assignment, including about the prospector and the power source within the lost universe. It was I who saw the potential and decided to act.”
“And you never told PA.” Adam stated the fact.
The Juirean smirked. “No, I did not. Instead, I prepared my departure while devising a plan.”
“What does Lo’ol have to do with it?” Riyad asked.
“I required a diversion, someone from which I could supposedly acquire privileged information. I offered him a substantial reward—through an intermediary—for his capture of you, Adam.”
“And Frandon?”
“I needed the Cartel to handle Panur and Lila. I had neither the expertise nor the resources to do so, and even if I had, I believed only the voluntary assistance of the mutants would work in the long-term. I respect their power and intelligence. I was not foolish enough to put myself in the line-of-fire, as you say.” The Juirean smiled. “And the plan worked! We are now all here, and on the cusp of riches beyond imagination. And no one has died.”
“Not yet,” said Coop, menacingly.
“That still doesn’t explain about this contrac
t,” Adam said.
“It is I who hold the recovery contract, as well negotiating rights to any subsequent share of the wealth from this new energy source. The details remain to be settled; there wasn’t much cause if the mutants could not be located.”
Copernicus smiled. “I think he’d be willing to sign over his rights…when he’s dangling out the back of the ship.”
“You could also give me an hour with him,” Panur said. He had been enjoying the discussion. Now he wanted to have some fun. “I will get him to assign the rights. I will not harm him, yet he will wish he was dead.”
The Juirean’s mouth fell open, staring at the small grey mutant. Panur had lived for five thousand years. He’d survived the Sol-Kor, the Nuoreans and the wrath of the Milky Way. He had powers and skills, and absolutely no moral compass, as far as Tidus could tell.
“Let me finish my job,” he pleaded. “I shall negotiate the terms—incredibly beneficial terms—for all of us. If I cannot, then you can do with me what you wish.”
Adam frowned. “You sure you want those terms? If this is an example of your negotiating skills, I say we get this over with here and now.”
“Please, Adam, let me do this. I am very good at what I do.”
“Backstabbing?” Sherri remarked.
“Negotiating.”
“Fine,” Adam said. “You already have a relationship with the Olypon. But this had better be a sweet deal…or we’ll let Panur play with your brain for a while. I’ve been there, and trust me, it ain’t pleasant.”
97
An Olypon escort met them a few hours later and guided the ship into the Kyrils star system. Although Adam had been there before, he didn’t recognize any landmarks. Star systems are big places with a lot of open space. One pretty much looks like the other.
He’d never visited Olypon while fighting the Kracori…and the Juireans…and the Klin within the Void several years back. Now he discovered why.
There was a strange dynamic existing in the system. Both Elision and Olypon shared more-or-less the same orbit, yet on opposite sides of Kyrils. The inhabitants knew of the other, since their orbits weren’t in perfect opposition. But what this did was place them pretty far from each other. At the time the Klin arrived in the Void, neither species had space travel. Most of their technological advancement came over the centuries of Klin presence and training, requiring the silver-skinned aliens to mold two semi-primitive species into useful surrogates. When the Klin abandoned the Olypon with the arrival of the various fleets in the Dysion Void, the population was left in the lurch. Their foray into a parallel universe was their one and only chance to become a major player within the galaxy.
The planet wasn’t bad looking, a glimmering ball of blue, white and brown, your typical Earth-like world. The Davion was guided to a pitiful excuse for a spaceport near what they learned was the capital of the planet. If that was the case…then damn! It was a shithole if ever there was one. But Adam wasn’t being judgmental, just accurate.
The Olypon themselves were caricatures, wannabe clones of the Klin. Although their skin was much darker, they had adopted the Klin’s shiny silver clothing and regal manner. This was understandable after eight hundred years of Klin occupation and influence. But they couldn’t quite pull it off. Whereas the Klin were straight-backed and refined in form, the Olypon were chunkier, hump-backed and frumpy.
But the natives were his gateway to untold riches, so Adam would treat them with respect, at least to their faces…their plump faces.
Upon landing, the team was taken to the stately government headquarters building—stately by Olypon standards—and introduced around. The Olypon were boiling over with excitement and eager to please. Nothing was too good for their distinguished guests. The very best the planet had to offer was theirs for the asking. The problem, no one asked for anything. They even elected to stay aboard the Davion rather than in an Olypon mansion.
On the second day, Tidus called for a negotiating session with the high officials. Adam and the others tried to follow, but Tidus insisted he go alone. The team discussed the situation through their ATDs.
After a moment, Tidus frowned and cocked his head. “You are doing that mental communication thing again, are you not?”
“Okay,” Adam said, breaking the minor trance among the team. “You go in there and kick some alien ass.” He smiled as Tidus fought through the translation. “Just do your best.”
The Juirean disappeared behind closed doors.
The team returned to the Davion to await the outcome, both anxious and nervous.
Three hours later, Tidus returned, barely able to contain his excitement.
“I am the best negotiator in the galaxy!” he announced.
“What did you get?” Copernicus asked before anyone else.
“You will be proud of me. I am even proud of myself—”
“Get on with it, Tidus!” Adam prompted.
The Juirean produced a small data chip. He walked to a station and inserted the device into the computer. The screen filled with writing.
“It’s in Olypon,” Adam said. “I can’t read Olypon.”
“I can,” said Panur.
“As can I,” Lila added. “This is a Letter of Intent, spelling out the general terms of the agreement.”
“What does it say?” Adam asked.
Tidus rushed to answer, wanting to be the one to reveal the details, and not the mutants. “For bringing Panur and Lila to the planet, I am to receive a million credits.”
“You get a million credits—for tricking the mutants and nearly getting the rest of us killed?” Sherri snapped.
“Wait, there is more,” said Tidus.
Panur scanned the screen. “It says he is to share the fee with the Andus Affiliation.”
“What the hell is the Andus Affiliation?” Riyad asked.
“It is the organization we will form to consolidate all our operations,” Tidus said with pride. “I named it after the planet in the Formilian system around which your Colony Ship orbits.”
“Yeah, I figured that,” Adam said. “What else?”
“For the repair of the array, Panur and Lila will receive six million credits to spend as they wish.”
“A villa in the south of France,” Panur suggested, smiling. The mutant knew a lot about the Earth, so Adam wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not.
“And with regards to the dark matter energy source….” Tidus was absolutely giddy. “Andus Affiliation will receive sixty-five percent of gross receipts, and the Olypon will do all recovery, transport, refining and distribution of the material.”
Sherri shook her head. “Wait…the Olypon will do all that for a thirty-five percent split? I don’t believe it.”
“It is true! Please remember, they are negotiating for an entire planet. They see increased travel to Olypon, more trade, more notoriety, all ancillary gains which will greatly improve their economy and impact all citizens.”
“What he says is true,” said Lila. She and Panur had already scanned the file and memorized every alien word.
“We do nothing…and make sixty-five percent?” Copernicus said, dumbfounded.
“I said I was the best negotiator in the galaxy. Are you now glad that you did not toss me out of an airlock?”
Coop laughed. “I guess so. But that would have been fun, too.”
The Olypon wanted to fly the team out to the TD array that day, but Tidus told them no, not until the contract was fully executed and uploaded to the document section of the Library. Final agreement went into excruciating detail with every contingency, process, and penny accounted for. It was a huge file. The mutants scanned and memorized the document in five seconds, which was as fast as the computer could display the files. Afterwards, they declared it to be sound and true to the original Letter of Intent.
The team celebrated. They were rich. All they—Panur—had to do now was get the portal working again.
98
The next day, the tea
m flew to the planet of Mon-Sim, a Mars-size world farther out from Elision and Olypon within the Kyrils star system, where the trans-dimensional array had been built. As always, Adam insisted on bringing his own starship and the Olypon agreed. Even Tidus joined them aboard the Davion for the short trip, leaving the NT-4 on Olypon. Secretly, Adam would have liked a ride in the luxury starship. But he had to be patient. If things worked out right, he could buy a hundred luxury starships—with just a day’s profit.
The Klin flying saucer landed at a small field adjacent to the main control building, joining another three saucers of Olypon origin. For eight hundred years the Klin had been a part of their culture, so all of the spacecraft were either old Klin vessels or new ones built to the same specifications.
The Olypon obsession with the Klin also carried over to their design of the trans-dimensional array. Adam found it frighteningly familiar, with three huge towers reaching into the pale pink hue of the Mon-Sim sky, along with a main control facility nestled between a pair of generator buildings. This was a TD array designed to open a rip in space large enough for spaceships to transit. Panur had designed smaller portals that were room-size, but they could only accommodate a single person at a time.
A rigid umbilical tunnel snaked out from the control center and connected with the main hatch of the KFV on the lowered pedestal, allowing the passengers to transition to the building without requiring spacesuits. Once inside, Adam was disappointed at the lack of activity taking place.
“We have been greatly depressed recently,” said their guide, a native scientist named Sindus Bin Kal Mion, one of the leaders of the array project. “The efforts to reconnect to our missing explorers have been so fruitless that many have stopped trying. I am glad you have arrived and can now correct the operation of the machine.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” Panur said, “but I’m not making any promises.”