The Human Chrinicles Box Set 4

by T. R. Harris

  “Thanks,” he said to the startled aliens. “I need these.”

  The much smaller creatures didn’t protest. They could recognize a Human when they saw one.

  A few minutes later, Adam and Pierre returned to the shelter. Manny had a fresh cut on the side of his face, and two more aliens lay dead on the light-colored soil outside the shelter.

  “The bastards never learn,” he said, swabbing the blood with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Take the frowns and drape them along the edge of the awning. They’ll form walls.”

  “Not very secure walls,” Billy commented.

  “Yeah, but the aliens won’t be able to see through. They won’t know what’s waiting for them on the other side. It’s more psychological than defensive. In the meantime, let’s start shaping these shafts into weapons.”

  Adam sat on the edge of the platform and took one of the bamboo sticks. With a sharp rock, he managed to split one of the ends into four segments. Next he placed two of the smaller sticks he’d collected in the splits, pulling them into the shaft, separating the four sections even more. Next, he took a few strips from the palm fronds and tied the branches into place so they wouldn’t slide out.

  He examined his quick handiwork. “Now we sharpen the four ends into needle-sharp points using the rocks.”

  The weapon was six feet long, with four deadly tips spread out over a radius of eight inches.

  “Make your own,” Adam said, grinning. “This one’s mine.”

  An hour later, half the shelter was lined with a wall of green fronds and the four Humans sat guard with their imposing shafts of bamboo. Dozens of aliens filtered past, eying them with evil intent, but none challenged.

  Adam cautioned Pierre and the others about mentioning his trick with the static electricity ball. It was about the only thing he could do with his ATD, yet it could be their ace-in-the-hole.

  When night fell, that’s when things got really intense.

  The nightvision of Humans isn’t very good, not compared to hundreds of other species in the galaxy. This soon became apparent as the compound filled with stalking beasts of nearly every shape and size, moving confidently in the gray gloom. Fortunately, the planet had two small moons, one nearly full and the other in a bright crescent. The night wasn’t completely dark, but it was still extremely dangerous.

  The Human slept in shifts, with only one resting his eyes while the other three covered the shelter. Adam still had his glowing watch, so they switched every hour. They were all so tired, hungry and thirsty that even an hour was enough to fall into a deep sleep, at least for a few minutes. It helped but wasn’t a routine to be sustained. Eventually bodies would give out, needing more time to recover.

  They made it through the first night with only a few harmless skirmishes. At this point in the game, there were plenty of more-defenseless species to prey upon other than Humans.

  As dawn brightened, Adam began to contemplate which of the species nearby would make the best meals. The Nuoreans would use the food drops as another means of grading species for their base instinctive impulses. Over the days and weeks, the drops would become bloody feeding frenzies of unbelievable carnage. Adam reasoned it might be better for the Humans to avoid the drops altogether and instead hunt from within the thousands of species in the compound for food.

  Adam knew Daric wasn’t interested in preserving any of the species he’d gathered here. They were for testing and grading was all. If eventually they killed themselves off, at least the Nuorean would have his list. Then the homeworlds of all these creatures would be raided to acquire the best players for their games. Everyone here was expendable, including the Humans.

  Adam moved out a few feet into the compound and placed a small stack of twigs and tinder into a small pile. Next he took a couple of sticks and began to rub them together. He wasn’t really trying to start a fire this way; rather, he hunched over to cover what he was actually doing and created another hot ball of electricity. The fire caught and he let the ball evaporate. He leaned back and surveyed his creation. A small fire was going, into which he placed more wood to grow flames.

  “I don’t see where we need that to keep us warm, Mr. Cain,” Billy Kring said as he knelt beside Adam. “Hopefully you’re getting ready to cook some breakfast.”

  Adam smiled at the square-jawed Texan. “Great minds think alike.”

  He looked out across the compound. “You know, all these creatures are members of either the Expansion or the Union, so they’re intelligent and with a certain level of technological knowledge. They ain’t dumb animals. We can kill them, but it may be a little disconcerting having them for dinner, like eating your family pet.”

  “We do what we must to survive, Adam.” Billy crossed his legs and sat down. “Which brings up a point: Why are we even bothering? The game’s been rigged in the Nuorean’s favor.”

  “It is here, that’s for sure. But I’ve seen the technology of the aliens. It’s not any better than ours. They may have the means of re-enforcing their fleet, but they’re still just one race. The Sol-Kor had over a trillion of their kind and technology that allowed them to conquer entire worlds. I doubt the Nuoreans are like that. A unified Milky Way should be able to kick their ass.”

  “I hope so.”

  “It’s still early in the game, Billy—no pun intended. Just wait until we get our footing, then look out.”

  “Any chance we might be around to see that happen?”

  Adam nodded. “I’ve spent some time with their leader Daric. I don’t think he’d let us get killed in the compound. He has bigger plans for Humans.”

  “Maybe for you, but he doesn’t know us from…Adam, now you can excuse the pun.”

  “We’re all Humans. I’m no different from anyone else.”

  “Not according to the movies I’ve seen.”

  “They’re just stories, propaganda really. You put anyone else into the situations I’ve been in and they’d do just as well.”

  “You missed your calling, Mr. Cain. You should have been a motivational speaker.”

  Adam stood up. “Good. Now let’s go motivate us up some grub. After all, we’re being observed. Let’s not disappoint. Besides, I’m starving.”

  The alien the Humans had for brunch didn’t have a lot of meat on him, but he was seven-feet-tall, so there was enough to go around. After the meal, Pierre and Manny took a sack made from the creature’s stomach and came back a few minutes later having filled it with warm water. It took a strong constitution to sip from the bag, but as Billy said earlier, you do what you have to do to survive.

  Later that afternoon, the Nuoreans swarmed into the compound with stacks of wood planks, and a large metal tank with a gravity-fed watering trough surrounding the base. Once the aliens retreated, it was overwhelmed by thirsty creatures. Most didn’t fight, consumed instead by their immediate need for hydration. Enemies moments before, now buried their heads next to each other in the life-giving liquid.

  Adam and Manny rushed to the wood pile and absconded with a dozen planks each, aided by the light gravity of this nameless world. They had no immediate plans for the wood, but it could come in handy, either for the shelter or the fire they were having trouble keeping supplied with fuel.

  Another night passed and the fire helped secure the Human’s settlement. They slept in two-man shifts this time, and for three hours at a time. By morning’s light, they were feeling better, stronger and more energized for the challenges of the new day.

  And that’s just what it brought—the first challenge.

  A hundred Nuoreans poured into the compound and laid out a crude arena about forty feet square. They lined it with a low barrier of plastic partitions three feet high, enough to define the area yet not enough to block the view.

  Next, a bare-chested Nuorean entered the arena, carrying the three-foot long sword Daric had told Adam was called a ressnel. He also had a net with an edge lined with needle-sharp stars of metal. Another Nuorean entered the
field, wearing a solid black outfit with a single yellow stripe running diagonally down the chest.

  Moments later, a protesting alien was dragged into the arena by two other Nuoreans. Adam didn’t recognize the species. He was about six feet tall, with long slender arms and an oblong head sitting sideways on top of a thin neck. His eyes were mounted on each end of the head, and a small mouth screamed for mercy.

  He calmed down when a sword was placed in one hand and a net in the other. His body now conveyed resignation rather than confidence. This was an intelligent being and he knew what was coming next. His escorts left the arena, leaving only the two combatants and what Adam reasoned was an official of some sort, a monitor or referee.

  The alien in the black uniform spoke: “This first challenge is between Nasoc (516) Kallen-Noc and the species Bac’col. It is for immunity points and will continue until termination of the life-force of either player. All are welcome to observe.”

  The arena was about a hundred yards from the Human’s shelter and was soon surrounded by hundreds of curious aliens from the compound.

  “Go,” said Billy Kring to Adam and Pierre. “Manny and I will watch the shelter.”

  Most of the aliens in the compound were taller than the Humans, but the presence of the six-foot long spears in their hands helped clear a pathway for them to the edge of the arena. Adam was curious to see how these challenges worked, knowing full well that one—or more—awaited him in his foreseeable future.

  A horn sounded and the action began.

  The Nuorean—named Nasoc and obviously a veteran at such competitions—didn’t seem anxious to get it over with. Instead he circled his opponent, content to toy with him at first. The expression on the Nuorean was one of overwhelming glee. He also moved with precise foot-over-foot sideways steps, his body slightly crouched and well-balanced. Definitely a pro.

  The other creature was not so coordinated. He continued to face his opponent, yet in jerky movements, holding the blade out in front of him with great effort. The sword was too heavy for the thin-boned alien, and the net was a drag on his ability to twist at the waist.

  Nasoc then swept his sword and brought it down toward the head of the Bac’colean—or whatever they called themselves. To Adam, the movement by the Nuorean was extremely slow, almost deliberately so. It gave his overmatched opponent time to lift his blade to counter the strike. Metal met metal, and the Bac’colean fell to the ground, overcome by the weight of his sword combined with the force of the other. The net came sweeping in next, scraping against the thin skin and tearing open long swatches of bloody flesh.

  Nasoc slapped his sword against the Bac’colean’s backside as he scrambled to his feet. He was having fun.

  “Nasoc (516)…respect,” the referee cautioned.

  The Nuorean fighter nodded. “As you wish.”

  The next sweep of his sword was much quicker and better aimed. It sliced through the left arm of his opponent, sending the appendage falling to the ground with spurts of blood shooting from the point of separation. The woefully overmatched creature fell to his knees and dropped his sword. He was moments from toppling over.

  Nasoc stepped forward in a smooth series of cross-over steps, and in perfect timing with his feet, lashed out with the sword at the neck of the Bac’colean. The head appeared to rest on the thin extension of his body, before it separated, split and dropped to the ground, followed moments later by the rest of the dead alien’s body.

  The horn sounded again.

  “The challenge is awarded to Nasoc (516) Kallen-Noc,” the referee announced. “As the victor, Nasoc (516) is awarded nine immunity points. Let the contest be recorded…let all animosity cease.”

  The winning Nuorean bowed to the referee and then went to stand over his victim. With ceremony, he swept his sword over the corpse before striding proudly out of the arena.

  The other Nuoreans left the compound as well, leaving the arena barriers as an indicator of things to come. A dozen aliens or more rushed into arena and began to fight over the remains of the Bac’colean. Two more creatures died in the fight, their remains soon evoking even more competition for the fresh meat of the fallen.

  Adam and Pierre returned to the others. They had observed the brief fight from a distance, but not the details.

  “They’re definitely skilled with the sword and net,” Adam said.

  “It’s like the old gladiator fights,” Manny declared with disgust.

  “This was obviously a low-level Nuorean,” Adam pointed out. “Yet I could tell he had a lot more skill then he needed for this challenge. The senior aliens are going to be even deadlier.”

  “That’s just great,” Billy said, as he slumped down on the wooden platform of the shelter. “I’m not Spartacus, not even close.”

  Adam had already asked the others about their military experience. They had none. They were the pilot and crew of a small cargo hauler, nothing more. None of them had ever fought an alien before, not until reaching the compound. But they were Human, so somethings just came naturally. However, going up against the unarmed and mainly ill-equipped creatures in the compound was not the same as entering an arena against skilled gladiators. Even Adam didn’t have experience in formal swordplay. But he was creative.

  He offered to help the others counter combat techniques such as he’d witnessed in the arena. Pierre, Manny and Billy jumped at the opportunity to be trained by the legendary Adam Cain. For his part, Adam promised to teach them every dirty trick he knew and going up against the aliens in the manner they expected was not what Adam intended. The only way they were going to survive was by doing the unexpected.

  51

  The rescue team was given an MD-8c fast-attack vessel, designed for a crew of four. It was capable of achieving five-light and had banks of both energy and ballistic weapons.

  Riyad was the designated pilot. He’d flown MD’s before, but never in actual combat. Seeing that confronting the Nuorean fleet in a single vessel was not their objective, his lack of combat experience was perfectly fine. The tiny ship shot out the rear of the Lexington and entered a deep gravity-well moments later.

  The best estimates placed the enemy fleet four days away on full drive. Their beeline course would light up the space around them, making detection of the approaching ship easy for any passive monitors left in the fleet’s wake. That was fine, as well. The plan was for the ship to be captured, and thereby introduce into the alien force two of the most dangerous creatures alive, along with a couple of Humans and a Formilian, no slouches in their own right. After that, all bets were off—on both sides.

  Sherri was in the galley, processing a cup of tea when she turned to find J’nae sitting on the couch, looking gigantic in the Human-size piece of furniture. At over seven-feet tall, she was an imposing figure. But it wasn’t her size that sent cold shivers through Sherri—it was her history.

  “You are Adam Cain’s mate,” the alien female stated without warning.

  “Ex-mate,” Sherri corrected. Lucky for her she hadn’t picked up the hot tea when she spotted J’nae. otherwise it would be all over the floor by now. “It’s complicated,” she concluded.

  “I nearly killed him several times. I could have, you know.”

  “He would have been only one of millions—perhaps billions—you’ve killed.” Sherri went to leave the galley but J’nae stopped her with more conversation.

  “You do not trust me.”

  Sherri whipped around with a look of stunned disbelief. “Like, duh, lady. Why in the hell would I trust you, just because Panur says you’re rehabilitated?” Sherri could only manage one air quote around rehabilitated. Her other hand held the cup of tea.

  “I am not as I was; situations have changed, hence my new attitude.”

  “What new attitude, you mean the one where you’re not going to send your ravenous hordes out to eat everyone they find? You’re evil, and you always will be.”

  “That is a matter of perspective.”

  “Wro
ng! Evil is evil no matter how you look at it.”

  “You do not understand. When Panur created me, he did it so I could be the future of the Sol-Kor, the being who would change how they…survive. Given time, the Sol-Kor would have become like most races in the galaxy, procreating conventionally and living in family units. They would no longer be the threat they are today.”

  “You mean the threat they were. Your race is getting its ass kicked back in your universe. From what I understand, none of your female offspring survived, so the Sol-Kor are slowly dying off, with a lot of help from the pissed off races your people had for lunch. Your universe—all universes—are better off without the Sol-Kor.”

  “I can understand your anger, yet I do not understand your insistence not to move beyond your hatred. I served a purpose at the time. Unfortunately, I was not allowed to complete Panur’s vision for the Sol-Kor, in great part due to the actions of Adam Cain and his Human followers.”

  Sherri bristled. “We’re not his followers. He’s not some messianic figure descended from the gods—not like they tried to make you out to be.”

  “There are some within your galaxy who would disagree with you regarding Adam Cain.”

  “That’s their problem. Adam’s just a Human, just like every other Human.” Then Sherri smiled. “Which should make a lot of aliens nervous, knowing there’s an entire planet of us out there.”

  “You haven’t learned, have you?”

  Sherri bristled even more. “Learned what…?” She left off the you bitch from the end of the sentence, knowing it’s not wise to poke the super-powerful, immortal, mutant bear in the room—at least not too much.

  “I refer to the lesson you should have learned from the Sol-Kor. Planets are susceptible to annihilation. Yet a race spread among many worlds has a better chance of survival. Your Earth can be destroyed, along with all the Adam Cain’s and Sherri Valentine’s upon its surface, and it wouldn’t take a race of super-beings to do so.”