by T. R. Harris
Without a word, the two men began moving up the convenient stairway along the sloping sides of the tunnel. There was a strong musty odor and the walls were slick with a coating of moisture which fed the stream.
After the Kracori dropped their asteroid into the Southern Sea a hundred miles from here, huge tsunamis swept across the coastal plain, inundating Juir City before running halfway up the mountain. The waters also entered the tunnel.
Only Hydon and a handful of Humans escaped in the pod before the flood. The rest were still trapped in the security vault when the waves hit. At first, the surging column of water created an incredible crush of pressure building up before it. Then the heavy vault door exploded outward, relieving the pressure. By that time, the towering pyramid structure atop the vault had been destroyed and the mountaintop devoid of life. So no one was around when a geyser a thousand feet high erupted from the surface of the Kracoran Plain. Everything in the tunnel and the vault was flushed out within the spectacular fountain.
That wasn’t to say the path the two men followed was clear of any obstacles. Over the years, weak areas of the tunnel had collapsed, but not enough to entirely block their progress. In addition, the path the pod had traveled wasn’t always a gentle slope. In some places, the tunnel was nearly vertical, and the tread-carved stairway became a ladder. The climb was only three thousand feet, but the going was slow. They stopped several times to rest.
“Probably going to be another grate at the top,” Riyad pointed out at one of their breaks.
“I thought about that. I’m thinking if we have to blow it, we won’t be too far from where Sherri and Arieel are being held.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I’m counting on Synnoc wanting to keep his most-prized prisoners in the pyramid. There was a whole maze of catacombs under the first one. Seems a logical place for jail cells.”
“I hope you’re right. I’d hate to get up there and have to go door-to-door looking for the women.”
Adam looked at his watch. “We’ll know soon enough. We’ve been at this for a couple of hours. We should be getting close.”
“Lead on, my Captain.”
30
“My Lord, the Formilian delegation has arrived,” announced an attending Overlord. His name was Acus bin Masins, and he was a long-time aide of Synnoc’s and an expert in legal matters. He had intimate knowledge of all that had transpired recently, including the attack on the Elder four days before, from which Synnoc was still recovering. “Are you able to take the meeting, or should I postpone?”
The Elder was dressed in a ceremonial cloak and robe, covering the bruise on his neck with a dark blue wrap. He cleared his throat. “No, I will be fine. Send them up and then remain.”
Four Formilian males climbed the stairs to the Pinnacle Room and approached the conference table. Synnoc and Acus stood on the other side.
The delegation was led by the High Celebrant, Trimen O’lac. He was tall—for a Formilian—deeply tanned, square-jawed and extremely fit, which is saying he looked like all the other Formilians in the delegation. He was also the mate of Arieel Bol.
“My Lord,” said Trimen, “I want to thank you for receiving us. As you can understand, the subject we wish to discuss is of extreme importance.”
They all took seats at the table, with Acus next to Synnoc. After a brief introduction of all in the room, Trimen continued the conversation.
“We have come about Arieel Bol and her status with the Juireans. I understand you intend to advance charges against her for conspiracy based on her relationship with the Humans?”
“That is correct,” said Synnoc. His tone was matter-of-fact and slightly bored. “This relationship is well-known and cannot be denied, especially by you.”
Synnoc knew O’lac’s mate had given birth to child that was not his. The offspring was a demonic creature called Lila, and she was the product of the Formilian female and Adam Cain. O’lac was the High Celebrant, the head of the Formilian Temple of the Order of Light, the spiritual and political leaders of the planet. This bizarre interspecies birth had to be an embarrassment to him.
Although O’lac was the head of the Temple, the symbolic leader of the Formilian race was a person called the Speaker; the latest female within a two-thousand-year-long bloodline with the purported ability to speak directly with the gods of the Formilians, Mislin and Sufor. Arieel Bol had been Speaker, up to the point it was discovered that all her so-called powers came from an artificial device linking her thoughts with Formilian-designed electronic controllers that were pervasive throughout the galaxy. To the weak-minded, the tricks she could perform with electricity were considered miracles and proof of her connection with the gods. It all came crashing down on the leadership of the Temple when the facts of this deception became public. The Speakership was disgraced, along with the religious leaders who had perpetuated the lie for so many generations.
The planet fell into near-revolt and decline, as deeply held beliefs were shattered and the natives sought retribution for the deceit. With Formilian technology and production so vital to the Expansion, Synnoc sent troops to the planet to secure his interests. This was before this most-recent criminality on the part of Arieel Bol was asserted by the Juireans.
Recently, however, the highly intelligent and pragmatic race had stepped away from the abyss. They realized that the Speakers themselves—raised from birth to fulfil their posts—honestly believed in the lie. They saw the brain-interface device—something they called their Gift—as a creation of the gods and were therefore blind to the deception.
A movement was afoot to reinstate Arieel Bol to her prior post, partly as a way to stabilize the chaotic political and cultural atmosphere on the planet, but also as a reward for all she—and her daughter Lila—had done to save the galaxy from the Sol-Kor menace. They also saw it as a way for the Juireans to leave their homeworld.
Synnoc saw it differently. He didn’t think Arieel Bol was due any reward or special consideration for what she had done. Instead, she was to be tried and convicted for helping the criminal Adam Cain in the commission of his evil deeds.
At least that was the official line. To Synnoc, Arieel Bol was simply a means to an end. He could care less what she had done in the Sol-Kor universe, or even the fact that her daughter was a mutant and associated with the Sol-Kor surrogate Panur. She was a draw for Adam Cain, and that was all that mattered. Yes, he also had the Human female, Sherri Valentine, but the Formilian and her paramour shared something more—an offspring. Synnoc would use whatever he had available to bring Cain to Juir, regardless of the political ramifications.
“My Lord, the relationship—as you call it—is not in denial. Yet we do not see how this rises to the level of criminality you assign to it. She accompanied the Humans to the Sol-Kor universe and helped defeat our mutual enemy. How can that be a crime?”
“That is not her crime. It was when Adam Cain murdered a highly-placed Overlord during a time of peace that her association with him became such.”
Trimen looked to the others in his delegation. “I was not aware she was with Adam Cain at the time of the incident? Was she?”
“Do you have any evidence she was not?” asked Acus, giving his master a rest as he heard his voice growing ever raspier.
“Do you have evidence she was?”
Acus stretched a thin grin. “Association alone is proof enough for the Council. Since the entire Juirean force died shortly after Adam Cain committed his act, we have no proof that she not with him. She had been in his company prior.”
“May we see her, to hear her side of the charges?”
“She would only lie to you. How can the word of a defendant be trusted? Only independent verification is admitted as evidence.” Acus continued.
“But you have no independent verification she was with Cain.”
“Do not plead your case to us, Trimen O’lac,” Synnoc said, again joining the conversation. “The fact that she returned to the galaxy wi
th Adam Cain, and that she was found in the company of another Human criminal—Sherri Valentine—proves her involvement.”
The Formilian’s eyes were large, his expression desperate. “Regardless, may we meet with her? Perhaps there is evidence of which you are not aware that would exonerate her.”
“You may see her, yet any new evidence should be found quickly. I will not tolerate the presence of such criminals on Juir much longer. Within six days this matter will be closed and both prisoners will be executed.”
“But my Lord, what effect on the Formilian people do you think such an action would have?”
Synnoc sat forward. “High Celebrant O’lac, do I hear a threat in your statement? Are you saying the Formilian people may protest my actions?”
Trimen’s eyes met Synnoc’s. A tense moment passed before the Formilian broke the gaze. “There was no threat, my Lord. Yet I am saying my people will not welcome the news of our Speaker having been put to death on a foreign world.”
“She is no longer your Speaker, which as I understand is now a disgraced position.”
“Every race seeks a leader; the Speakers of Life and Light will continue to be ours, in whatever capacity we decide. Arieel is our Speaker, and upon her return to Formil, was to be formalized once again.”
“Unless you can perform miracles—real miracles—Arieel Bol will never return to Formil, at least not alive. Now if there is nothing else—”
“Our visit with the Speaker?”
“My aide will arrange it. She has been treated well, pending your arrival and this discussion. Yet as I said earlier, if new evidence is not presented soon, I will have no reason to provide further restraint during her captivity. As it has been with those charged with crimes against the Juireans, our prisoners often welcome death rather than the alternative of living longer under our care. This is a deliberate strategy we employ to deter such crime from occurring in the first place. I am sure you see the wisdom in such a policy, High Celebrant.”
After the Formilians left the Pinnacle Room, Synnoc sat at the large stone conference table, alone and in thought.
The defeat of his fleet was four days old, and still he refused to believe Juir was in danger. He now had five hundred additional warships stationed throughout the Alliance Cluster, and the remainder of his fleet was headed this way. Unfortunately, most of them were trailing the Human fleet which had a twelve-hour advantage.
Synnoc ordered the speediest ships to leave their groups and bolt for Juir as fast as possible. The slower ships could make it on their own. This would put more defensive units in place before the Humans—traveling at a fleet speed—could reach the planet.
With such actions in place, Synnoc took time to reflect on other things, namely his obsession with Adam Cain.
He began by considering the lengths certain races went through to protect their gender opposites, as Cain was doing for his two females. It had been like this for the Juireans as well, many thousands of years before. Fortunately, they had moved beyond such nonsense.
Or at least they had….
When the Kracori attacked the core worlds seventeen years before, they made a point of taking out the breeding facilities on Salin. Over a billion Juirean females died, and to this day the race was still struggling to recover from that tragic event.
With such a massive empire to rule, the most valuable asset the Juireans had to maintain control was a live Juirean adult on site. Thousands of years ago, they had abandoned the traditional method of procreation for a more automated, more reliable process. Every person and gender in Juirean society had their designated duties. Males expanded and managed the empire, while females provided it with more Juireans for the task. As a result, breeding females were held in reverence and awe, pampered and cared for in huge breeding facilities off planet. They were provided with careful pre-screened reproductive fluid from select males and were expected to stay pregnant during their reproductive years. Most could produce twenty-five offspring or more during this period, before being assigned to other tasks, such as caring for the mothers or managing the newborns.
A child would remain in the facility for a period of five years. Afterwards, they were transferred off-planet to training facilities where, based on physical and mental aptitude, they would be placed into programs to become either Admins, Techs, Guards or Overlords.
It was all very efficient, very sterile.
After The Great Exodus, the Juireans had to recover, and not only their pride, power and status, but also their numbers. There was a forty-eight-to-one male-to-female ratio, and no matter how it was figured, the male population would grow old and die off in huge numbers long before enough females could be birthed to make up for the attrition. Through genetic manipulation, the Juireans could determine the gender of the offspring. Even to this day, nine out of ten births were female, all in a desperate race to replace this missing segment of their society before it was too late.
During the early years of their exile, the Juireans even experimented with returning to the old method of reproduction, through physical mating. Synnoc grimaced at the memory. The strategy proved to be a disaster.
Females began to have their favorite mates, as did the males, and conflicts arose. Jealousy—an emotion all but bred out of the Juireans throughout the centuries—returned, seemingly overnight. Fights between both competing males and females erupted, and sub-groups assembled into tribes to protect against intruders. These affiliations were subtle, yet real, and they impacted the final birthing numbers and quality of the offspring.
Synnoc was Elder at the time and was aware this dynamic. Five years before, he had ended the practice, returning to the birthing centers and anonymous fluid donors. The centers were now located on Juir, on the far side of the planet from Juir City. Drugs were reintroduced into the Juirean food supply to suppress the primal urges, both for the males and females. The system was working, but the race was still greatly under-populated.
Synnoc bristled at the charge raised by some that the Juireans were much like the Sol-Kor in this regard. The Juireans were nothing like the flesh-eaters, he argued. The Sol-Kor were mindless drones, birthed from a single mother and with only the quest for food to drive them. The Juireans—although employing a very efficient and practical procreation program—were individuals born from individual females. They came from only the finest male stock, and as such the Juireans were a race of superior beings, intelligent, strong and courageous. The Sol-Kor were barely above insects, not capable of creativity or innovation. If it hadn’t been for the inventions of the mutant Panur, they would never have advanced to the point of threatening other universes.
With regards to the Sol-Kor, Synnoc knew Adam Cain and his Humans had not defeated them. All they did was cut off their access to the Juirean galaxy and help rebellious races in the flesh-eaters’ universe to rise against them. As a result, the flesh-eaters were simply too pre-occupied to be a threat for the time being. But that could change.
Even still, Cain did manage to turn Panur away from the Sol-Kor. If not, then the mutant genius would have simply rebuilt what had been destroyed and the invading horde would have returned. Synnoc didn’t assign any special gratitude for what Cain had done. It was a matter of timing and fortunate consequence, and not some great plan on the Human’s part. Luck—to Synnoc—was not to be rewarded or honored, since it could not be counted on consistently, no matter what fantastic mythologies revolved around the fortunate Human.
31
Flashlight beams began to pick reflections off of something shiny ahead. Adam and Riyad approached carefully until reaching another grate covering the exit to the tunnel. They were at the security vault, where seventeen years earlier, their fateful pod journey had begun.
While aiming their lights into the room beyond the grate, the pair saw very little they recognized. Where once there was the pod room, dining area, comm center, meeting rooms and more, all that was left was a large circular room, fading off into the murky distance. Ever
ything else had been swept away by powerful torrents of rushing water.
On the floor outside the tunnel, Adam noticed hundreds of footprints, now faded and covered in a generous layer of dust. No one had been down here in a very long time.
The two men turned their attention to the bars of their cage. They were shiny, showing no signs of rust, which meant alloys of some kind, possibly Juirean steel. They braced themselves against the wall of the tunnel and placed booted feet against the bars. They pressed, grunting occasionally from the effort until a separation was created large enough for them to crawl through. They left the bars bent; this was their only way out at this point.
Cradling M-101’s in their arms, Adam and Riyad moved cautiously into the vast room. The security vault had been divided into three sections, with one huge central room. At first glance it looked as though the water had rushed through the middle of the complex, bursting through the main door and into the catacombs beyond. The other two sections, one to each side, appeared to have escaped relatively undamaged. Adam and Riyad moved to their right.
This area showed signs of recent visitation, with dozens—perhaps hundreds—of crates and boxes stacked haphazardly about. There were also old chairs, dust-covered desks, file cabinets and discarded computer monitors, everything one would expect to find when new equipment was brought in to replace the old. The vault had become a huge storage room.
In one of the rooms, Adam spotted something new. They stepped inside to examine the huge, fifteen-foot-high by thirty-foot-long box of dials and electrical connections.
“It’s some form of back-up generator,” Adam told Riyad. He reached out with his ATD and scanned the object. Most of it was dormant, yet a few of the components were operating in standby mode. Within his mind, Adam followed the main power lines out the room, to where they split off in multiple directions. A few moments later, he had more information.