The Human Chrinicles Box Set 4

by T. R. Harris

  Adam began climbing, gaining strength and energy as he went. It was a strange sensation. Rather than growing fatigued by the climb, his cells were being fed energy through a mysterious process. Adam didn’t look the gift horse in the mouth; without his unexpected mutant gift, he would have surely died from last night’s fall.

  Of course, he also wouldn’t have attempted a hundred-foot leap in the first place.

  It took less than five minutes for him to reach the top of the bluff. He looked down, surveying the area where he’d fallen the night before. The base ended in a pointed canyon where the high surf surged up, amplifying the force of the waves. Fortunately, his mind protected him from the memory.

  There was an alien car sitting about a hundred yards away; on each of the sections of the lava flow, between the periodic cracks that were the wedge-shaped canyons, another car sat. The search for his body was extensive, along several miles up and down the shoreline. Fortunately the Nuoreans were below and not on the bluff.

  Adam ran to the car. Alien vehicles seldom had locks or even ignition keys; this one was no exception. He rummaged through the back seat and then into the holding trunk where he found cold weather gear, including a slick raincoat with a hood. He slipped the garment on. It would help disguise his alien face.

  He set the electric transport in motion, following a fresh set of tracks in the red-colored rocks and soil. The ride was bumpy and he had to take it slow to make sure he didn’t puncture a tire on the sharp obsidian shards.

  After a while, he came upon a paved road. It was narrow with little traffic, running north and south. He turned left, toward the city.

  Nearly all the light traffic was heading in his direction and he slipped in behind two off-white vehicles similar to his. He hoped they were official Nuorean vehicles that would lead him to their headquarters.

  With mental acuity, Adam accessed his ATD.

  Kaylor, can you hear me?

  After a brief pause, Jym’s excited voice came into his mind. Adam! Are you okay?

  I’m fine. Where are you?

  We are on a moon of one of the gas worlds in the system. We came to the coordinates you gave us last night yet no one was there. We feared the worst.

  Adam remembered seeing his friends being surrounded by Nuoreans and an airship coming in for a landing. That was moments before his drop into the abyss.

  The Nuoreans have the others. I’m free and going after them.

  Adam! Is it you? Kaylor said, coming into his mind as well.

  It is, my friend. I want you to stay where you are until I call. Don’t try to be the hero. That’s my job.

  Indeed. Yet I thought your ATD could not reach this far?

  I gave it a little boost. Now stay put and safe. I’m going after the others.

  He broke the connection.

  Kaylor was right; his ATD should not have been able to reach across billions of miles, even to the ghost program embedded in the computers aboard the Najmah Fayd. It was only possible from the small cluster of mutant cells forming a tiny tumor within his brain.

  He didn’t know how he knew it, but he understood the workings of his residual mutant cells, at least in a general sense. They sent out instructions to his normal cells, causing muscle cells to fuse together tighter and in greater numbers, making him stronger when needed. They also sent surges of electricity to other parts of his body to quicken his reaction time. They enhanced his healing time and helped with memory and recall. His eyesight was sharper; even his spirits brighter.

  These enhancements weren’t omnipresent, however. Most only manifested themselves occasionally, as the brain sensed they were needed, before his body would return to normal. He felt there was more he could do with his new powers but was frustrated that they only showed themselves when called upon. He wasn’t able to sit around and play with them. And as evidenced by his fateful leap the night before, they did have their limits—limits he wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  He also felt this was as good as it was going to get. Immortal mutant cells didn’t need to grow or multiply. They were what they were, and Adam only had a finite number of them. In a way he was relieved. This meant he had the best of both worlds—enhanced abilities, while still retaining his humanity. He didn’t complain. All he needed was a little help now and then from his little friends.

  Twenty minutes later, he came to a three-way split in the road. To the left was the spaceport and Afton’s neighborhood. Straight ahead was the city. The two cars he was following went right, to the west and the graveyard of Nuorean combat arenas. He followed them.

  A few minutes later, he began to pass dozens of dilapidated arenas, their high walls crumbling and overgrown with vines of dry, brown vegetation. The farther he traveled, the better the condition of the arenas, until the two cars in front of him slowed and pulled onto the grounds surrounding a huge rectangular building similar to a domed football stadium.

  The place was a chaotic mess, with hundreds of natives scampering around the building, in the process of painting the exterior. They had huge, hand-held sprayers and looked to be about a third done. Dozens of Nuoreans were also on site, guiding the actions of the natives.

  Adam merged with the trucks, cars and pedestrians crowding the parking area, winding his way toward the rear of the building. He spotted a lone Nuorean, hunched over the hood of his transport, studying one of the square databoxes the Nuoreans used, rather than the thinner datapads common throughout the Milky Way.

  Adam pulled next to him, placed the hood over his head and stepped out, drawing the flash pistol as he approached the alien. He stepped next to the thin, young-looking Nuorean and poked the barrel of the weapon into his ribs.

  The alien turned, reacting instantly to Adam and his gun. There was only a moment’s thought of fighting in the alien’s eyes before he surrendered to his situation.

  “You are Adam Cain,” the young Nuorean said with enthusiasm. “I recognize you from the video images. You are presumed to be dead.”

  The alien’s apparent joy was unsettling, but Adam appreciated the fact he wasn’t putting up a fight, not out here in the public parking lot. “Yeah, I guess they presumed wrong.”

  “Obviously. I am Second Player, Lower Level Joris (435) Voden-Mor.” He glanced down at the weapon pointed at his midsection. “I assume I am now your hostage.”

  “Good guess, Joris,” Adam said, still a little uneasy at the alien’s pleading—almost hopeful—attitude. “Where are the others…the other Humans?”

  “They are within the facility.”

  “Where within the facility?”

  “In the holding pens, sub-level one. Do you want me to take you there?”

  Adam blinked several times. “Well, yeah, that would be helpful.”

  The alien began to move away. “It is wise that you keep the hood over your head and stay close as to not reveal the weapon you hold on me.”

  “Thanks, good advice. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Joris led Adam through one of the open doors. Nearly every door in the building was open to help ventilate the paint fumes. They passed several creatures, mostly Us, with a few other species thrown in, along with half a dozen Nuoreans. Joris made no move to signal his people.

  “What’s with all the improvements? You expecting guests?”

  “Yes, Adam Cain. There is a Third Cadre squadron on the way. They will be here tomorrow to take you and others to Nuor. Grand Master Cashin (1,345) Kallen-Noc is with them. There is to be an upgrading of the base as they search for your spacecraft. There is much enthusiasm surrounding its discovery.”

  “But you haven’t found it.” Adam said, hoping he knew something the Nuorean didn’t.

  “Not yet. But an all-out effort is being made. This is Nuorean space. It will be found.”

  The pair came to a wide stairway leading down. With his new-found mental powers, Adam could read the Nuorean writing on the wall: Sub-Level One. His talkative friend was still babbling on.

/>   “The holding pens below are where we keep aliens awaiting trials and classification. In a past time, hundreds would be here,” Joris volunteered. “We Nuoreans will face any creature with the proper challenge factor. Often this involves races with different atmospheres and air pressure. Within the holding pens we can regulate such factors, then either the alien or the Nuor will be provided gear to accommodate such differences. This facility is where the matches are held to verify challenge factors. Beings who can tolerate our atmosphere will meet in the outside arenas.”

  “What are you, some kind of tour guide?”

  “No, I am just a standard player, but I must say I am quite excited to be living out a T35R scenario. We learned about this in school, but seldom does a Nuorean get to participate in real life.”

  “What’s a T35R scenario?” Adam asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “It is a hostage-taking for the purpose of accessing restricted areas.”

  “You learn this in school?”

  “Yes, it is all part of our game strategy training.”

  They were moving along a wide corridor, passing several glassed-in chambers on the right and monitoring stations on the left, with very few Nuoreans at the stations. Sub-Level One looked mostly deserted.

  “So tell me, Joris, how does this T35R scenario usually play out?”

  “That depends,” the alien answered with barely restrained enthusiasm. “If the hostage-taker has a relatively good chance of achieving his goal, then we are taught to deceive and manipulate the truth. If the chance is poor, we tell the truth. At that point, it matters not and will help put the hostage-taker at ease.”

  “And what have you told me?”

  “I’ve told you the truth.”

  Adam was afraid he was going to say that. “And why do you believe I have a poor chance of succeeding?”

  Joris stopped and turned to face Adam. “Because…I activated an emergency alert within my uniform the moment you confronted me. Our conversation has been monitored ever since.”

  The corridor was suddenly filled with more aliens than it should have been able to hold, all with flash weapons aimed at Adam. The whole operation was quiet, quick and efficient. Adam nodded with admiration.

  He turned to his young Nuorean guide. “Well played, Joris. Well played.”

  The alien beamed. “I thank you, Adam Cain. To a Nuorean, that is the greatest compliment we can receive.”

  The alien was still bubbling over with pride as Adam was hustled away.

  Two minutes later, Adam was pushed through a doorway and into a large glass chamber, filled with cots, a toilet, a washbasin…and his three companions. They rushed to him, looks of utter shock on their faces. Sherri wrapped her arms around his neck and didn’t let go for a full minute, leaving the men to pat his back or shake his hand.

  “For a bunch of superheroes, we sure do get captured a lot,” said Riyad wryly.

  “It’s not the getting caught part that makes us heroes,” Adam corrected. “It’s all the damn escapin’ afterwards.”

  “You know, you’re supposed to be dead,” Copernicus Smith said matter-a-factly. “When we saw you take a nosedive into the canyon, we thought you were toast.”

  Sherri let him go. “Yeah, how did you survive?” She looked at him, deep furrows on her forehead. The Nuoreans had removed his raincoat and uniform jacket; they let him keep the shoes. His shirt was ripped and stained with blood, his pants in matching condition. She focused on the red splotches on his arms, anger building on her face.

  “What the hell, Adam?” She took his arms and held them out in front of her. “These were open wounds only a few hours ago, they shouldn’t be healed this much. And don’t think I didn’t notice the cut on your arm that Nuorean bastard gave you in the arena. You tried to hide from me how fast it healed. But I’m no fool; this isn’t right.”

  “What are you saying, Sherri?” Riyad asked.

  “I’m saying he’s exhibiting some of the same abilities…as a mutant.”

  “That’s crazy,” Adam said. “I’m not a mutant. You’ve known me—”

  “Yeah, that would explain a lot, actually.” Coop interrupted.

  “So what is the truth, my friend?” Riyad asked. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

  Adam studied their faces. One part of him was reluctant to reveal the truth; another wanted to let it all out. It looked like now he had no choice.

  “Why don’t all of you sit down; this is going to take some explaining.”

  Half an hour later, he had told them about the mind-meld between him and Panur, and how a small portion of the immortal mutant’s brain cells had been left behind when he withdrew. Since then, Adam has been feeling out his new-found abilities; some experiments successful, others not so much—like his attempted leap over a hundred-foot-wide canyon.

  “This is great!” Copernicus exclaimed. “Now use your magical powers and get us out of here.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” Adam said. “They only enhance my natural abilities, and only when needed.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Copernicus started. “You have an Artificial Telepathy Device, latent mutant superpowers and, well…you’re Adam friggin’ Cain. And still you can’t get us out of here?”

  “I didn’t say that. Just give me a little time to come up with a plan. Oh, and by the way, there’s a squad of Third Cadre on their way to pick us up, along with a Grand Master. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “To take us to Nuor?” Sherri asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Have you contacted Kaylor?”

  “Uh-huh. He’s safe and waiting for my call.”

  Riyad smiled. “So it looks like we may get to Nuor after all, even without a map.”

  “Seems all roads lead to Nuor,” Sherri said, “at least in the Andromeda Galaxy.”

  99

  The holding pen was like living inside a racquetball court. There was no place to hide, and now the outer corridor was swarming with Nuoreans. Some were on guard, while others just came to gawk, curious about the prisoners. They’d heard a lot about Humans from their comrades in the Milky Way, while others had never seen a Jundac race in person.

  After having no effect on their audience, Adam and the others stopped flashing them the bird. They didn’t grasp the insult.

  The Nuoreans observed a day-night cycle within the building, dimming the lights by half as evening fell. The strong smell of fresh paint gave them all headaches—Adam’s lessened by his helpful mutant cells—but it still lingered, just behind his eyes. Eventually, they all claimed cots and fell asleep—again, all except Adam. He could get by on less than hour’s sleep per night; the rest of the time was spent working out escape scenarios in his mind.

  He contacted Kaylor again through his ATD and filled him in. They briefly discussed the possibility of the Najmah Fayd sweeping in to save the day, but that was discarded as being too risky. The Nuoreans were after the ship, and if they succeeded in capturing it intact, not only would their mission fail, but the Milky Way would be in worse shape than it was already.

  The best time to attempt an escape would come during the transfer from the holding cell to the Third Cadre ship arriving sometime the next day. Would it land at the spaceport or somewhere near the Nuorean base? Throughout the night, Adam categorized the various options; if this…then that, and so forth. By the time the lights came back to full strength in the cell, Adam had about a dozen escape plans all locked away in his mind.

  What actually happened was not one of them.

  Adam was starving—this was a constant since becoming part mutant. Panur and the others could absorb energy directly. Not Adam. He had to wolf down all the food he could to help feed the energy requirements of his mutant tumor.

  “Can we get some food in here?” Adam yelled through the glass wall.

  A Nuorean on the other side shook his head. “You will not be here long enough. The Cadre is on site.”

  At
least now Adam had a timetable to work with. But he was still hungry.

  Sherri and the others knew something was in the works. They could also see that the best time to escape would be once they were out of the cell. Tensions were high, their future uncertain. Adam simply considered it SOP—Standard Operating Procedure—at least for his band of Human heroes.

  Feeling like animals in a zoo, Adam and his team stared through the glass at the huge entourage of Nuoreans who showed up a couple of minutes later. One old alien was deferred to more than all the others. He was tall, wide-shouldered and wearing a tan cape over his simple clothing. This had to be the Grand Master, one of the council of leaders of the Nuorean race. Adam knew they achieved such status through years of combat wins, against both Nuoreans and aliens. Although he was old and past his fighting years, Adam could sense the strength and confidence in the alien. He was part of an elite class, and one based on ability, and not politics or backroom maneuverings.

  The alien stepped up to the glass; the Humans moved to join him on the other side.

  “Some of the other Grand Masters have met Humans in private combat; I, unfortunately, was not afforded the opportunity,” the Nuorean said in a strong, clear voice. “Perhaps when we get to Nuor, I will remedy that.” He focused on Adam. “I recognize you as Adam Cain, and the other members of your support team.”

  “Support?” Copernicus snorted.

  The Nuorean eyed him for a moment before returning his attention to Adam. “You are well-known, and as one player to another, I offer you respect for your many accomplishments. You will find our two races are very similar in make-up and attitude.” The Grand Master smiled. “That is why we cannot allow you to exist.”

  He motioned for the door to be opened and the prisoners removed.

  “I am Grand Master Cashin (1,345) Kallen-Noc,” he announced as the Humans were shackled in wrist restraints. “The Kallen-Noc blood-team is the largest of the six prominent families within our race. There are others, yet they have not joined to form more powerful teams. At this time, the Kallen-Noc rule the Nuoreans.”