by T. R. Harris
Comparatively, the explosions were small for nuclear devices. But what they did was blow away two sides of the wide footprint of the pyramid structure. As a general rule, pyramids cannot be toppled, so the building remained upright with very little outward signs of initial damage. However, as the sides fractured and fell into the huge center cavity of the building, the floors above the central viewing chamber—all thirty of them—began to crumble. With very little side support, the weight was too much for the weakened walls to bear. The center of the Malor-Hydon Tower, with it bronze-colored and reflective glass top, began to fall, sinking ever farther and faster into the middle of the structure. Falling debris filled the cavity below and bellowed out with a huge cloud of dust and nuclear smoke. Then slowly, the skeletal sides, leaning at a radical angle, crumbled inward, crushing the still intact Pinnacle Room.
It took three minutes before the building stopped rumbling. By then it was just a pile of contaminated rubble sitting atop the Kacoran Plain, and a tomb for all those caught inside.
Lieutenant-Commander Tom Paulson was getting very adept at making tight dimensional jumps, and now he brought the Vengeance in as close as he dared to the planet Juir, using the abundance of navigational information available for the capital planet of the Expansion. He knew there were scores of enemy ships stationed nearby, but they were looking outward, expecting them to bolt in from out-system. So when the ship appeared one hundred eighteen miles above the surface of Juir City, it took time for the defense authority to react. By then Paulson hoped to be on the surface and under the radar.
Travis was next to him in the co-pilot seat, with Pogo resting on a console not far away.
“Okay, Pogo, can you locate Adam through his brain interface thingy?”
Just then, the bridge of the Vengeance lit up from the light of an explosion on top of the mountain that Paulson knew was the Kacoran Plain, the seat of government for the Juireans and the Expansion. Moments later, high res images showed the Malor-Hydon Tower collapse in on itself.
“Never mind. There he is,” Tom said with nonchalant detachment. “I’m going in.”
41
Pogo did link with Adam’s mind and he led Paulson and Travis to a landing spot at the southwest side of the huge plateau mountain, within a grove of green trees with shiny silver leaves. The two men then hiked through the meadow and followed a meandering stream through a maze of fallen boulders to a clearing where a rusted metal grate covered a perfectly cylindrical hole cut out of solid rock.
Moments later, Adam’s daughter Lila came into view. Travis and Tom knew her from their Sol-Kor universe days, as well as the couple of weeks on Worak-nin before she stole the trans-dimensional starship and disappeared.
“Hey, Lila,” Travis said. “What are you doing here?” He had a crush of the Formilian mutant.
“I came to help my mother and father. What kind of daughter would I be if I didn’t?”
The men stood in awe as the five-foot tall alien took hold of the thirty-foot-round iron grate and pulled it from the rock face of the mountain without even a grunt.
Travis was even more turned on than before.
Soon afterwards, the rest of the team emerged from the tunnel. There was an emotional reunion, where Trimen was introduced to Tom and Travis…and Pogo, who had suddenly materialized.
When Pogo appeared, Lila’s face lit up and her eyes sparkled. She extended her hand and the tiny green-tinted orb disappeared and then reappeared in her palm. She pulled him close to her heart and gasped.
“Do you know what that is?” Adam asked Lila.
“Oh yes! She is an energy conduit of ancient design and age. Isn’t she magnificent?”
“She? She’s a he,” said Adam.
“You are mistaken, father. I have a bond with her already. She is…is life.”
Pogo?
Adam, forgive me, but I have found my new master…a true master. Why did you not tell me of her before?
I…I never thought about it.
May I go with her? I can fulfil my purpose with this magnificent creature.
Yeah, sure. She’s Lila, my daughter.
I know. Even now we are…joined.
As the team hiked back to the Vengeance, Adam had a sense of melancholy. He felt like he was losing a good friend or a loyal pet. He hadn’t been expecting this feeling.
At the door to the starship, he suddenly remembered something.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave without me.”
He sprinted across the meadow and through a large grove of trees until he reached the transport that had brought him and Riyad to the mountain. The bound-up driver was none the worse for wear. Adam untied him. Then without a word of complaint, the red-skinned alien slipped into the driver’s seat and calmly drove away, all the while with that same emotionless expression on his face.
With the Malor-Hydon Tower destroyed—and taking with it the Elder, the Elites, as well as seventy-five percent of the general Council—new leaders were quickly selected for the Juireans and tasked with saving the race from the invading Union starships headed their way.
Their ships were ordered to stand-down, while these new leaders made frantic calls to the Humans, demanding—requesting—that they not attack any of the worlds in the Alliance Cluster. Negotiations for peace were offered, which Admiral Curtis Logan—the ranking officer in the fleet—firmly rejected. There would be no negotiations. Either the Juireans accept unconditional surrender or the fleet would continue.
Logan was playing a gambit, but it paid off. Less than ten minutes later the Juireans linked back, agreeing to any and all terms the Humans requested. For a moment, Logan thought of asking the compliant Juirean leader to paint his house. Although it did need painting, Logan thought that might be a little over the top.
Logan contacted Admiral Hollingsworth a few minutes later and filled him in on what had transpired. When asked about Adam Cain, Admiral Logan responded: “He blew up the whole frigging pyramid, sir.”
Hollingsworth’s response would go down in history as another classic addition to the legend of Adam Cain.
He said simply: “Of course he did.”
Epilogue
By the time Adam and his team reached Formil in the Vengeance, the Juireans had already left the planet, and Trimen, Arieel and Lila were welcomed back as heroes. The Humans would remain for another two weeks, while preparations were made for the coronation ceremony appointing Lila Bol the next Speaker of the Formilian people.
Two days after their arrival, Admiral Hollingsworth linked to Adam.
“I hate to say it,” Hollingsworth began, “but I’m a little disappointed.”
The statement caught Adam off guard. “Disappointed, sir, in what? We won the war, rescued the women and killed the bad guy. What’s there to be disappointed about?”
“Just that you got to go out and have all the fun, while I had to stay here and suffer through another sweltering Arizona summer.”
“Sir, Arizona doesn’t exist anymore. It’s called the American Sector now.”
“Yeah, whatever. But seriously, Captain, the next time galactic empires go to war, how about leaving a little of the fighting for the rest of us?”
“Sir, yessir. If you insist.”
Adam’s chest swelled with pride as he watched his daughter climb the steps to the huge throne platform and turn to face the adoring crowd.
He was in the main Temple on Formil, along with Sherri and Riyad, watching the coronation of Lila as the next Speaker of the Formilian People, the Giver of Life and Light.
She was beautiful beyond belief and dressed in the most-elegant flowing gown of shimmering white he’d ever seen. An enormous and intricate headdress rose from her mass of silky black hair, displaying a cascade of shooting stars and lightning bolts signifying the life the gods bestowed on the Formilians through their glorious leader. Music played, singers sang, people cheered, and all the focus on Lila, the embodiment of their living goddess.
Arieel and Trimen were there as well, also decked out to the nines, and standing close to each other with animated expressions. This was a great moment for the Formilians, the realization of a dream centuries old.
For the past two thousand years, they worshipped their Speakers, believing them to be conduits to their gods. Even the Speakers themselves believed that. Yet through all the pomp and ceremony, all the miracles, all the illusion, it was still artificial and staged. What the Formilians were celebrating in the Temple that day was nothing less than a Speaker who could actually control the most-mysterious force in the universe—electricity—and do it without artificial means. Lila was a true demi-god, something unique, something beyond normal people.
The Formilians knew this. The Humans knew it. And the Juireans knew it. Already Lila was making moves to assume authority over the Expansion, to lead it from Formil and not Juir. She felt that under her leadership, all the senseless wars would come to an end. After all who would dare confront a leader with verifiable super powers?
Only someone—or thing—with even greater powers….
The End of Scorched Earth
Alien Games
And now…
Book #17 in
The Human Chronicles Saga
Alien Games Intro
The Human Chronicles Saga #17
Adam Cain is BACK...and ready to kick more alien ass! Merry Christmas all you alien #*@$&*!
Everything is going great in the Milky Way Galaxy. Adam's immortal mutant alien daughter Lila is running the Expansion, and the Orion-Cygnus Union is experiencing its first period of peace and tranquility since its founding. Yet things are not as idyllic as they seem....
A new alien threat is nearing the galaxy, bringing with it a level of military technology unmatched by anyone in the Milky Way. Add to this, an ancient home-grown power has returned, curious to see the results of its great galactic experiment.
Now Adam Cain and his team are forced into an elaborate contest against a variety of other species to see who in the galaxy lives or dies. For this greatest of all challenges, Adam enlists the help of old enemies, including the mutants Panur and the former Sol-Kor queen, J’nae. Yet even immortals are over-matched against this ancient entity and the invaders from Andromeda.
Yet as so many before them have done, the one thing these new aliens have underestimated: Adam Cain and his friends.... Oops!
If you're squeamish, this book may disturb you. But if you enjoy full-on confrontation and in-your-face action, then here's your Christmas present from Adam Cain and The Human Chronicles.
No need to thank him. Just throw your chest out a little more...and be proud that you're a member of the most badass race in the galaxy!
Alien Games begins a whole new chapter of The Human Chronicles Saga. A new set of enemies, new affiliations, new challenges and even more opportunity to show why "You don't mess with the Humans!"
This is epic action, epic heroism, and epic adventure on the grandest scale ... and with the street-wise humor and realism you've come to expect from The Human Chronicles Saga.
Copyright 2016 by T.R. Harris
All rights reserved, without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanically, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. *
Prologue
Have you seen the future?
Yes, and I am concerned.
The entity that had once been known as Nunki felt the thoughts of the others caress his brain. They moved within it as water around pebbles in a stream.
As are we. That is why we have initiated this contact.
I sense a plan has been developed. Is it confirmed? Nunki asked.
With your agreement, it will.
That is very kind of you. Yet I am but one Aris; I will not go against the will of the others.
He sensed a laugh. The others? There are so few left. Time is the great killer of perseverance. That is why we have come to this conclusion.
Nunki nodded mentally. I see the plan; it is the only way to maintain any sense of identity. If not, then we will continue to evolve until nothing of us remains. There will always be the temptation to evolve beyond even this point, yet with our world about to end, all that will be left is us, and only us. What happens when time propels us beyond recognizing even ourselves?
That is the future that awaits us.
Unless we stop our evolution, Nunki stated within the minds of the community.
Yes. What good is our grand experiment if by the time it comes to fruition we no longer care about the results? It would make all our efforts, all our genius…pointless.
Another presence spoke. And that would surely be the outcome. The time scale we speak of is beyond even our comprehension.
Yet we do have the ability to view our past, Nunki thought, what we were then and what we are now, and that was over only a million years. What form will we take three billion years from now? All we can do is speculate, while knowing that it will be something unrecognizable, nothing as we are today.
Then it is agreed? asked the first entity. It didn’t need to hear the response; the feelings conveyed were adequate for a verdict. We will instruct our service modules to create chambers within a secure location where we can suspend our evolution. These creations must be self-maintaining, for the time period over which they must function is far beyond any reasonable expectation.
It can be done, Nunki thought. We are capable of directing such construction.
And what of a trigger? another presence asked. At what point will we be resurrected?
I will leave a marker. When the experiment has advanced far enough, it will signal our revival.
The next feeling Nunki conveyed brought confusion to the others.
We do not understand.
It is quite simple, Nunki began. We will build our chambers and be placed within. Our consciousness will fade…only to return a moment later. At that point three billion years will have passed, and we will have no sensation of the passage of time. It will be an incredible journey, taking place in the blink of an eye. I find that thought quite stimulating.
The others agreed.
Three billion years later, and in another galaxy…
Daric (416) watched his young opponent maneuver for another strike. It had been almost humorous how predictable he was. Age and experience gave Daric a sense of prescience; he had been in this exact spot many times before.
That was why he selected this battleground. As the challenged, he chose the arena—one of three available on the station—and this one was the most basic, with only minimal cover. The least-experienced often chose the more elaborate, with their myriad of cover and obstructions. They believed they could move more quickly through the maze than could their elders, out maneuvering them for surprise attacks.
This arena provided no place of substance to hide. Daric’s opponent had to confront him head-on, using skill with only blade and vandish, rather than deception and youthful energy.
Daric toyed with young Linoc (611), allowing him to take several strikes with his sword and swipes with the prickly net called a vandish. He even let the tip of his opponent’s blade come precariously close to splitting his skin. Injury in the arena was a judgement call by the referee. Blood-letting was allowed, but only to a point. If severe enough, the match would be called.
This was a challenge for possessions and status, not for immunity points.
As predicted, Linoc whirled his blade around in a blur, his body spinning in the air in what was called a tralic, before angling it toward Daric’s head. The move was skillful and swift—yet as mentioned—predictable. Daric bent b
ack, performing a perfectly timed backflip while bringing his own sword up to meet his opponent’s. The joining of metal upon metal rang throughout the arena.
Linoc completed the tralic and regained his balance with expert precision, his gold eyes narrow and intense. The young member of the Kallen-Noc Blood-Team was indeed skillful, if overanxious. He was leaving too many tells, indicators Daric was cataloging in his tactically-trained mind.
The two combatants circled again, occasionally twirling shiny metal weapons at one another, more to test reactions than for any promise of contact.
Daric then saw the vein pulse once again in Linoc’s neck. This happened each time his young challenger prepared for a strike, unconsciously testing the weight of his sword before acting.
The full strike came a moment later. Daric was ready. Linoc came at him with a thrust of this sword and a sweep of the vandish. The blade slid past Daric’s head with only the slightest reprieve before he dove forward and over the incoming spiked netting. He landed on his back, rolled and then sprung to his feet, spinning in the thin layer of Nuorean dirt spread over the artificial surface of the arena. The casting of the heavy net sent Linoc turning in a wide arc. Daric jumped, rolling again before sliding in behind his challenger.
The young player saw the move from the corner of his eye. Suspecting that Daric would be angling for his own attack, Linoc whipped around again, bringing his blade in low and flat-edged, expecting to slap hard against Daric’s unprotected legs. Skin would be broken, and the match called, with Linoc the victor.
Yet Daric was ready. When behind his opponent and out of sight, he planted the sharp tip of his sword into the hard surface of the arena and turned the edge outward. He gripped the hilt firmly in both hands, readying for the impact to come. When Linoc’s sword came at him, it contacted the sharp edge of the blade with a resounding report…and snapped.