The Formation Code

by T. R. Harris

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your wound, Panur,” Adam said sarcastically. “And unlike you, ours hurt like hell. Here’s another ruined shirt.” He’d been a hit in the shoulder. Level-2 shots weren’t fatal to a Human, but a little bit higher and to the right, he would have taken a bolt to the face. That would surely leave a scar.

  “Not only that,” Sherri snapped, “but I thought this was supposed to be an easy mission, no need for violence.”

  Adam shrugged. “Then you haven’t been paying attention,” Adam said. “None of our missions are easy and without violence.”

  “No shit!”

  The ship suddenly shot into the air without clearance from the control building. Exhaust flames fried several of the aliens on the ground, while Riyad dodged several ships in the skies above Werznor as he blazed through an escape vector. The rest of the team joined him on the bridge.

  “Course plotted and locked in for Cadon,” he announced. “It’s fairly close, so the flight time is only fourteen hours, even in this rust bucket.”

  “Cadon will be different,” Adam stated as he looked around at his pitiful excuse for a team, muddy, bloody and soaking wet. “It’s an A-Prime world, so let’s try our best not to kill someone.”

  Riyad smiled his trademarked brilliant white smile, made even brighter by the layer of dark mud on his face. “No promises, my friend. If they try to kill us first, all bets are off. Besides, I find the civilized places to be the most fun to fuck up.”

  Wolfgang Stimmel took over a former residential apartment tower in the middle of Lanix, and not far from the government building where the Gracilian Aris vault now sat empty. His main operation was underground in the desert, not far from the city. That was where he stationed most of his troops.

  With both the Expansion and Union respecting the mutual deterrent of his hidden dark matter bombs, Stimmel felt confident there would be no against him. The recent operation by Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi was an attempt to steal back the dark matter collectors, and not against him personally. Their mission was doomed from the outset. The units were safe, and nowhere near Gracilia, although he did retain several of the DM cubes as insurance.

  For the moment, he felt secure, basking in the lavish appointments of the penthouse suite, twenty-nine Gracilian stories above the ground, and with a spectacular view of the mountains to the west. He brought in decorators to refurbish the suite to his exacting standards; after all, he’d only recently stepped down from his position as a high-ranking official of the largest corporation in the galaxy. He was fabulously wealthy and used to the finer things in life. He had to admit, but he preferred the verdant panorama of Gracilia to the depressing view he had on Woken, that of the squalor that was the city of Essen. For the nine years he served in the position of Regional Director, he seldom ventured from the MK complex, and only then to go to the spaceport for flights off the planet.

  But Gracilia was different. There were very few people on the planet, except for his security personnel and the native Gracilians he allowed to resettle. The Gracilians were the only exception to his rule of no natives on the worlds he owned. He did this for a couple of reasons, both pragmatic.

  First, he needed the Gracilians’ expertise with all things Aris. They were his new allies in the fight against the rest of the galaxy, a fight that was sure to escalate. He needed their knowledge of dark matter, of the service modules, and now of the mysterious thing called the Formation. And second, by allowing the Gracilians back to their homeworld, when no others could, the natives felt special, privileged. It made them even more loyal to him than they already were.

  He’d even made a Gracilian his valued second-in-command. His name was Primor Jenkic, and he earned the position not only because of the politics of the appointment but because he was also a brilliant scientist—as were most Gracilians.

  Primor was in the suite with Stimmel, holding a datapad and about to give a report. From the clouded black eyes and pursed lips, Stimmel could tell Primor was nervous giving the report, not sure how he would react. That was another thing the Director liked about the Gracilians. He could read them like a book.

  “Adam Cain and others left Navarus twenty-one days ago and made landfall on the planet Werznor.”

  Primor transferred the image on his pad to a holographic field on the wall opposite the suite’s enormous plate-glass window. It was a video of a firefight taking place on a crowded and filthy street. All four members of Cain’s team were hit, including a tall, good-looking alien of unknown race.

  “Who is shooting at them?” Stimmel asked.

  “Unknown.”

  The image froze on the tall alien and then zoomed in.

  “Who is he?”

  “Facial recognition has identified him as TeraDon Fief, a high-ranking official in the Gradis Cartel.”

  “The Cartel! Why is Cain working with the Cartel?”

  “It is only a guess, but the planet they are on is a localized center for crime and contraband. Perhaps he is an advisor brought in to assist.”

  “Assist with what? What are they doing there?”

  Primor referenced the pad again. A graphic of the planet appeared on the screen, with a written summary of its vitals. The language was Earth German.

  Primor continued with his verbal report.

  “Werznor is one of the prime locations for the buying and selling of Aris artifacts. For the underground market, it is the largest.”

  “They must be looking to buy something,” Stimmel posited.

  “They met with a local vendor name Kalicar Qasnanic. He was found dead in his office shortly after Cain’s visit, along with two of his guards. The Humans—and Fief—have since left the planet, remaining only three standard hours. I would assume they either found what they were looking for or know now where to find it.”

  “Logical, as always, Primor. Where are they going?”

  “The tracker is following them. They are in an old freighter; they are easy to follow.”

  “That tells us something, too,” Stimmel said. “They are using a nondescript starship; they don’t want to attract attention. Whatever they’re looking for, they don’t want anyone else to know they’re looking for it.”

  “It must have something to do with dark matter, perhaps another collector,” Primor ventured.

  “Possibly, but DMCs are well-known, and the discovery of another one would be impossible to hide. I think this is something else.”

  And that something else, Stimmel mused, has to do with the Formation.

  “Primor,” Stimmel said aloud, “ready my DM ship. I have somewhere I need to be.”

  Chapter 8

  The trip to Cadon was so short that Adam and his two Human friends barely had time to clean up, tend to their wounds and get a little rest before they were entering the system. Panur’s inaugural bolt wound was already healed by then, sped up by the mutant’s enhanced healing capacity. He expressed disappointment when the last traces of redness faded away, wishing it would have at least left a scar so he could show Lila.

  A little research through the Galactic Library told them enough about Cadon to pinpoint the city of Hi-Dor and the government Recovery Center, where Aris artifacts were cataloged. Hopefully, the official Vo’lash wouldn’t give them any trouble. Adam was pretty confident he wouldn’t, not with them knowing how he’d been selling rare Aris contraband under the table for years. And being a government bureaucrat, Adam was sure he would have better records than Kalicar. The old freighter’s landing jets should still be warm by the time they had the information they needed and were back in space. If there was an interested second party searching for the Code, he didn’t want to give them time to pick up the team’s scent on Cadon.

  Although Cadon was a civilized and sophisticated planet, it was still alien. The natives were dirt dwellers, so their city expanded underground, rather than along the surface. Therefore, the capital city of Hi-Dor was not much more than a vast array of metal canopies protecting the entrances to the labyrinth
from the elements. To Adam, it reminded him of Castor, a planet in the Fringe. But the inhabitants of Castor lived underground because the air was too thin and toxic on the surface for them to survive. On Cadon, the natives lived underground because they wanted to.

  Cadon was part of the Incus Federation, a loose affiliation of planets near the outer edge of the galaxy yet still technically in the Kidis Frontier. The Federation never fully considered themselves part of the Kidis, preferring their own small association to that of the larger entity. At one time, the region was considered backward and primitive. But then the Incus—a race of worm-like creatures—began manufacturing some of the best-quality weapons in the galaxy. Credits flowed into the area, and prosperity soon followed.

  And then came the discovery of the Aris artifacts, which brought instant fame and fortune to Cadon. Not only that, but the Federation began an all-out propaganda campaign designed to enhance its image. They were now within the Aris Sphere, the birthplace of all Prime life in the galaxy. After Kracion’s demise, enterprising entrepreneurs even began hosting tours of the area once thought to hold the Aris homeworld. Although the name of the planet was a mystery, enterprising beings soon coined the name Ari as the home of the Aris. The tours were popular for a while until word got out that all they did was take high-paying customers out to a rocky region of space and make wild claims without evidence that this was the Aris system. Once word got out that this was mostly a scam, the tours dried up.

  But the artifacts found within the Zaniff Asteroid Field were real. And it was no wonder that the Cadonic first discovered them. After all, they liked to dig.

  Finding the entrance to the misnamed Recovery Center Building wasn’t hard; it was more of a hole in the ground than a building. The facility was on every map and navigation system since this was where miners and scavengers were supposed to bring their finds for official sanction. Adam estimated this accounted for about thirty percent of all the artifacts discovered. The majority simply disappeared in the cargo holds of ships destined for ports across the galaxy. Collectors paid extravagant sums for anything with an Aris label. Even three-billion-year-old rocks, claiming to be part of Ari, were sold off. That scam didn’t last long. The Aris homeworld was destroyed three billion years ago; the rocks of Ari would be much older. But that didn’t stop slick operators from making a few credits while they could.

  Adam and his team were dressed in their best Sunday outfits, befitting their cover as assessors for the Human Orion-Cygnus Union. With their assets, it wasn’t hard for them to come up with the proper credentials. But as impressive as they were, they carried little weight on Cadon. The independent nature of the Federation made them resist any overt pressure from outside empires. Even so, it was enough to get them in the door and escorted to the office of Vo’lash Brill, First Level Inspector. They needed information about the validity of an artifact that was recently acquired by the Union. The inquiry was simply a formality, nothing serious.

  It was easy for Adam to see why the Cadonic were such prolific underground dwellers. In their distant past, they used their two-inch long claws to dig burrows for their pods. Although well past the need for personal digging, they retained the evil-looking spikes on their hands. They also had enormous eyes, which Adam reasoned would allow them to see in the dim recesses of their burrows. That also explained the low lighting in the office.

  Other than the claws and the obscenely large eyes, the Cadonic were all Prime; two legs, two arms and looking Humanoid, at from Adam’s perspective. Vo’lash greeted the team members politely, not suspecting anything untoward was coming. He operated a strange-looking keyboard, customized to Cadonic hands with deep recesses to accommodate the claws with the keys inside.

  “So, please tell me, what is this artifact you wish to verify? If it came through the system, I would have a record of it.”

  Sherri was taking the lead this time. The Cadonic were a dual-gender society with females serving roles in all aspects of life and government. The leader of the planet was female, as was seventy-percent of her ruling advisors.

  “The transaction took place nine standard years ago. Do your records go back that far?”

  Vo’lash grinned. He had a charming, unassuming presence. Adam hoped it would remain that way once the true purpose of their visit comes out.

  “Of course,” the native answered. Then he shrugged. “Although I am sure you are aware, not all transactions pass through the Authority. We are endeavoring to remedy that, but to date, no real progress has been made. Also, you do know you could have requested this data electronically. It would have saved you the journey.”

  “We are on a multi-layered mission; this is just one of our stops.”

  “Very well. Now, please give me more details. Do you know who recorded the find?”

  “That we do not know. We were hoping you could give us that information.”

  Vo’lash frowned. “It will be difficult unless I had a description of the item or items. Without a name, the search could be quite difficult.”

  Sherri nodded. “I understand. This is what we know. It was a Lot of at least three items. One was a series of nine containers. The other consisted of ancient parchment—paper—with unknown writing on it. And then there was a third item. We’re not sure what it looked like.”

  “And you say this Lot was discovered nine years ago?” Vo’lash began typing. That was a hectic time, after the discovery of the Aris and before Kracion.”

  Sherri leaned in a little closer to the bureaucrat. “We do know who you sold the items to, at least some of them.”

  Vo’lash shook his head. “That cannot be correct. The Cadonic do not sell…”

  He stopped typing as the color on his already pale skin turned a shade whiter. “I am sorry, but without more information, I cannot help you.” He leaned back in his chair and stood up.

  “Pardon me, Vo’lash Brill,” Sherri said through a thin grin. “But I do have the name of the buyer. Please run it through your system.”

  The native slowly retook his seat. “And what is this name?” he asked, his nervousness evident in the timbre of his voice.

  “Kalicar Qasnanic,” Sherri announced. “I believe you know him.”

  The veneer of confidence vanished from the alien. “I, I do not know the name. Why should I? He is a criminal, a black marketeer.”

  “I thought you didn’t know the name?”

  “Of course, I know the name. I meant to say I do not know him personally.”

  Sherri grimaced while cocking her head. “Then he must have dealt through an intermediary when he bought the items from you.” She twisted in her chair to look at Adam and the others. “Is that legal on Cadon, to use an intermediary rather than a direct sale? I don’t see how that would make a difference.” She looked back at Vo’lash. “Perhaps it does. Does it, Vo’lash Brill?”

  “That was a long time ago,” the native blathered. “I no longer engage in such activities.”

  Sherri frowned. “That’s funny. That’s not what Kalicar said only yesterday when we spoke with him on Werznor.”

  Vo’lash looked around the room nervously. He knew three of his four visitors were Human. That was bad enough. But the other alien was even taller and more physically fit.

  “Yes, yes, I work with Kalicar, but only for items that defy classification or were here before the restrictions were instituted.”

  “Is that what happened in this case,” Sherri asked. “Were the artifacts here from when the Cadonic were doing most of the salvaging?”

  “I cannot remember. I have done many transactions with Kalicar. You ask me to remember something from long ago.”

  “Vo’lash, we are not here to report you. That is not our purpose. All we want to know is what happened to the contents of this Lot. We know Kalicar got two of the items. We need to know if he got all three initially, or is a third item still in inventory. Or did you sell it to someone else? Check your records. See if anything triggers your memory.”

/>   The alien inserted his claws once again into the keyboard and began pressing. He was frightened and frustrated, making countless mistakes as he typed. Eventually, his face lit up.

  “Yes, I remember now. It was indeed an older find, and quite particular. It was a sphere, badly broken, but made of a material we determined was Aris metal. At the time, it was one of the largest sections of such metal we’d found. It was placed in storage and left there for several years.” He scanned the screen before shaking his head. “All items have cleared inventory.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means they are no longer here, either lost … or stolen. At the time, theft of the older artifacts was quite common. Before, they had been curiosities. Then they became valuable as more learned of the Aris. Much of the inventory was lost.”

  Adam’s heart dropped. Perhaps Vo’lash had not sold all the items. Maybe another enterprising Cadonic did it.

  “But I now remember the transaction,” he said, buoying Adam’s hopes. “A broker approached me about the containment vessel, offering an enormous amount of credits. I sold it to him, along with several miscellaneous items that were inside. By then, the boxes and parchment had been separated. I sold those to Kalicar.”

  “And the other items?” Sherri asked anxiously. “Who did you sell those to?”

  Vo’lash leaned back in his chair, his large eyes staring at the ceiling. “It was so long ago; however, on rare occasions, I have additional encounters with the Broker. Let me remember the name. He is often evasive as to his identity.”

  The way Vo’lash spoke the word made Adam capitalize Broker in his mind. Even so, it was a good bet the native never recorded the name. That would have been evidence that could be used against him.

  “Aboran, something like that. Yes, Aboran Forr. That is the name of the Broker!”

  Sherri let out a deep sigh. “Great, Vo’lash. Do you know how we can find him?”