by T. R. Harris
There was a conspicuous silence on the bridge, as everyone waited for Adam to speak. When he did, it was accompanied with a thin smile.
“If they’re going to roll out the red carpet, I say we don’t let them down.”
“It’s a trap, Adam,” Sherri said with sarcasm.
“Of course it is. But I say we accept their invitation, just not on their time schedule. The report said the celebration is to take place in four days. I suggest we hang out here for eight. Then when we don’t show up on time, they’ll start to doubt their plan. Security will relax as alternative strategies are worked up. Then we show up. Surprise!”
Sherri looked out the forward viewport. “That might work…if this damn system doesn’t blow itself apart within that time.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Adam said. “Kaylor, work up an alternative jump site, just in case we have to bolt from here.”
“Already plotted.”
“Good man—or I mean Belsonian.”
“I know what you meant.”
102
The home star of the Nuorean system was called Or, and the native word for two—or a pair—was nu. Located on the second planet from Or, the homeworld of the race became known as Nuor—Second from Or.
The Nuoreans had advanced basically to the stage of the ancient Romans when the aliens arrived, yet a thousand years before, they had taken a different path to building the culture that would one day dominate a galaxy. The Nuoreans had developed a society where combat was the accepted means of advancement, as well as achieving wealth and possessions. Yet in those early days, nearly all challenges were to the death. That changed when the aliens arrived.
The Nuoreans received star-travel—along with most of their other advanced technology—like most other races: They got it from others. The Juireans took theirs from the Klin; Humans, from everyone else. In those ancient days, the Nuoreans didn’t have much to contribute to galactic society; however, the arrival of the aliens on Nuor changed the race dramatically.
They continued to hold their gladiator games, yet in light of their new-found place in the universe, the Nuoreans began to value their own kind more, at least enough to stop the wholesale slaughter in the arenas. They retained the tradition of combat to attain wealth and status, but they made these contests more ritualized rather than lethal. An injury of a significant degree was enough to call the match and declare a victor. This way the race maintained their fighting skills as their population grew.
When the inevitable wars began with their galactic neighbors, the Nuoreans had neither superior technology nor weapons. What they did have were superior gaming skills. These initial clashes—three thousand years ago—were hardly contests. Every move the aliens made, the Nuoreans were already one or two steps ahead. Soon, the natives of Nuor had expanded their reach across half the rim, with no alien species able to stand against them.
But still they felt the bloodlust for combat to the death.
Having conquered hundreds of worlds, the Nuoreans began staging contests against the most-worthy aliens. Fighting other Nuoreans was a predictable endeavor; they had all been trained in the same techniques, almost from birth, so the challenge was limited. With the aliens, however, it was a whole new game. They fought unconventionally and with enthusiasm, especially after the Nuoreans introduced the concept of immunity challenges. It became a matter of life or death for the aliens, with nothing in between, which only made them fight harder.
The Nuoreans reveled in this new opportunity to hone their skills and achieve fame. Yet the aliens had no possessions the Nuoreans wanted. So instead of wealth transfer, these contests ended with the awarding of immunity points, which could be used to shield native combatants from loss of their own wealth, at least to a degree, depending on the challenge factor of the opponent. This new system flourished, and at the height of Nuorean power and influence, over five million immunity challenges were fought every day on a variety of worlds.
It must also be noted that the Nuorean claim of having killed off all the advanced races in the Andromeda Galaxy was an exaggeration. A billion years before, the interior of the huge galaxy had suffered a collision with a smaller galaxy, turning that region into a living Hell for space travel. What species had been there were wiped out, and the deadly conditions made any new attempts for life to gain a foothold almost impossible.
The surviving species developed along the rim of the galaxy.
And not every race—advanced or not—became the target of the Nuorean’s alien games. In fact, over eighty percent of advanced life along the rim was considered not worthy of combat, while less than one percent were classified Jundac, and too dangerous to fight.
The Nuoreans focused only on the most-challenging races, and primarily the combat-aged males. Children, females and the aged were spared. Yet when most of the able-bodied males of a world are taken away to be killed, societies tend to suffer. In the early days, the Nuoreans didn’t care—there were still hundreds of worlds to draw from. But when the truly competitive races began to grow fewer in number, the Nuoreans began a program of population management. This worked to a point, yet the Nuoreans still longed for the halcyon days of near-unlimited immunity races and the subsequent contests. Immunity challenges allowed for more aggressive ambition among the Nuoreans and faster advancement up the ladder.
The Kac was their answer.
The Nuoreans discovered the means to travel between galaxies quite by accident. While experimenting with a dual-singularity space drive, the Cadre One scientists noticed how when the two blackholes interacted, they produced their most-prominent gravity effects along a straight line, rather than in a sphere. By building generators in pairs, the Nuoreans were able to create series of matching blackholes that would fight to join up, elongating the structure and confining their influence to what could be best described as gravity tunnels—hundreds, then thousands and finally millions of light-years long.
This breakthrough wasn’t for normal space travel, however, since the massive generators required had to be stationary to work properly. But the opportunity to enter a narrow gravity well at one end…and reappear thousands of light-years away at the other, was revolutionary.
The only drawback to the new technology was that it couldn’t be used near any competing gravity sources. This was the same as with traditional gravity drives. The theoretical top-end for a standard grav-drive could never be reached within a galaxy. Only in the great void between the star islands could truly impressive speeds be attained—and the true reach of the dual-singularity device realized.
For thousands of years, not only the Nuoreans, but most of the advanced races in Andromeda, had studied the Milky Way—the Kac in the Nuorean language. Here was a smaller galaxy, yet free of the convoluted mess that was the interior of their own. The players of Nuor could imagine the opportunity for more and challenging immunity contests in the Kac—if they could figure a way to get there.
Their new gravity technology—designated Launch Points, or LP’s—would give them that access. It would open up a new era in the history of the Nuoreans, while some even suggested moving their entire race to the Kac. That idea had never caught on but plans to invade their neighboring galaxy were begun in earnest.
Morlon (783) Voden-Mor was the fourth highest ranking member of the Third Cadre. He was fifty-one Nuorean cycles old and had spent the first twenty of his challenge years within the Second Cadre—the military arm of the Nuorean government. Even back then, he was a legend within the race, having in the shortest time accumulated more points than any other Nuorean before or since. He was on the fast track toward Grand Master status, with the potential to eclipse the record points for the species and become its greatest leader.
And then Morlon joined the Third Cadre. Very few understood his reasoning, yet once it was done, there was no turning back. Members of the Third Cadre were different than all other Nuoreans. They had to have an extremely high level of points—both possession and immunity—show unrivale
d skill at tactics and strategy and possess a more-independent mind than most other Nuoreans. This last trait was the reason Morlon chose the Third. Members of the Cadre were the trouble-shooters of the race. Although many worked in teams—evaluating alien races for their potential as viable immunity races—others acted more independently, investigating the various oddities that faced the race as they encountered more of the universe around them.
Rodoc (1,401) had met Morlon twenty-two cycles ago, when the future Grand Master had first achieved Qualify status at the first level. Morlon was assigned to secure the residence and other privileges of the rank, as well as make accommodations for the former QM. Individuals at the bottom of the ladder were the most vulnerable to the up-and-comers, be they QMs or GMs. The current Qualifying Master in that position had been living on borrowed time for two cycles; it was only a matter of time before someone beat his point total.
There was some grumbling from the much-older QM as the relatively young Rodoc took his place, but other than that, the transition was uneventful. Morlon went on to become the primary supplier of Rodoc’s immunity aliens, personally testing each race before allowing them to face Rodoc. In his private arena, Rodoc would stand on the sidelines and marvel at the skill of the young Third Cadre officer, knowing without shame that he would not prevail in a contest between the two.
But victories against fellow Nuoreans was not what Morlon sought. He saw in Rodoc the opportunity to challenge far more aliens than he could have otherwise. For every alien Rodoc faced, Morlon had dispatched five beforehand.
It was the killing of aliens that Morlon lived for, not the rule of an empire.
But now Morlon (783) was upset, probably more than he could ever remember being.
He stared at the black comm screen, which only moments before had displayed the angry face of Grand Master Rodoc—the leader of his race. Morlon had just suffered a verbal beating like never before, and there was nothing he could do in his defense. He had pleaded for more time, telling Rodoc that he believed the Humans would eventually show up in their enhanced starship. The fact that they didn’t during the mock celebration at LP-5 only meant they had figured out his strategy. That aside, the Humans still had to use LP-5 to achieve their ultimate objective. The aliens were still in the Suponac, and it was only a matter of time before they showed up at the transit zone.
What upset Rodoc so much was that Morlon could not give him an estimate when the Humans would show. Originally he had—the date of the celebration. But that had come and gone three days ago. Being a smaller generator complex than the much larger midpoint station, LP-5 recycled every twenty-nine hours, rather than the seventy-two it LP-6. Three transits had already taken place since the celebration—and still no Humans. Nuoreans were used to controlling the game, and now it looked as though it was the Humans in command. The aliens could hold off for months if they chose. All the while Morlon’s ships had to remain on station and alert at every jump.
Morlon understood Rodoc’s frustration, yet he felt it unfair that he should suffer all the blame. He had done his best to lure the Humans into his trap—and it would still work—if Rodoc would only give him time.
Instead, he’d tasked the Cadre officer with devising another plan, something more proactive. Already, four hundred ships were blanketing the region between Bancc-Bin and Nuor. But with the capabilities of the Human’s jump ship, they could be anywhere by now.
Anywhere except back in the Kac.
This knowledge gave Morlon hope. His prey was still around. He would find them—or he would make their mission moot.
Morlon (783) began work on a new strategy. This one would be sure to impress the Grand Master—all the Grand Masters.
But first he had to test his theory.
Rodoc trusted Morlon implicitly—or he had up until his latest failure. In reality, Rodoc had been venting his own frustration on the young Cadre officer. He had fully supported the plan to set a trap for the Humans, even against the advice of some of the other Grand Masters. They believed revealing the location of LP-5 was too risky, and now that the plan had failed, the others voiced their concern for the long-term effect of the failure. They said the Humans now knew the way to LP-6, and in theory, could achieve their mission. That would have the effect of isolating Nuorean forces in the Kac and be a major blow to their overall plans.
The worst part—as Rodoc grumbled—was the plan should have worked. The fact that the Humans—and he used the name Adam Cain as a placeholder for the entire race—had detected the trap and turned it against Morlon and his forces, was troublesome. The Nuoreans had faced clever and strategic adversaries before, but Cain was becoming a dangerous anomaly. Rodoc’s people even had the Human in captivity several times, and yet still it did not matter. He always found a way to escape and cause even more problems for the Nuoreans.
It was clear to Rodoc, one way or another Adam Cain had to be eliminated.
It was three days after the browbeating, that the Third Cadre commander came to Rodoc, requesting his presence at a demonstration he’d prepared. It would take place off-planet, and the Grand Master would have to put all his other affairs on hold.
The brashness of the request piqued Rodoc’s curiosity. Morlon had to know this would be his last chance to redeem himself, not only to Rodoc, but the rest of the Grand Masters. He was taking an awful chance—and it was the seriousness of the situation that convinced Rodoc to go.
Morlon apologized for the time this would take out of the GMs schedule, but he assured him it would be worth it. They left Nuor in the early morning and journeyed to the LP-3 transit zone nine hours away. This was an extremely long time for Rodoc to be away from either his residence or the capital, but as the hours passed—and Morlon offered no explanation—the Grand Master began to treat the day as a game and refused to ask Morlon for more detail. He would let Morlon run his gambit.
The LP-3 transit line was the third to be built as the race reached farther into the galactic void. The generators had been constructed by workers traveling through the LP-2 line to their limit range of ninety-four thousand light-years from the Suponac. Here the generators for LP-3 were built, extending the reach out to one hundred ninety thousand light-years. The LP-4 station followed at three hundred seventy-five thousands light-years. LP-5 completed the transition to the midpoint between galaxies, and the construction site of the massive generators at LP-6.
The LP-3 transit line was now used mainly for maintenance and shift changes for the small crew manning the space station at LP-4, near its huge gravity generators.
The small starship—with a security escort of six other vessels, assumed their positions in the center of the transit zone, and moments later, were all transported to the end-point. Rodoc still marveled at the technology, as he gazed out the viewport at the blaze of stars that was the Suponac Galaxy. From this distance he could make out the edges and the general shape, with its huge, glowing center dome and fiery inner ring, which was the remnants of a collision with a much smaller galaxy a billion cycles ago. That collision had increased the size of his galaxy, but at a cost.
This frustrated Rodoc, knowing that a galaxy so huge and with so much potential, was mostly an illusion. What life there was now hugged the edges, away from the deadly center of the Suponac.
Now that they had reached the final destination for Morlon’s demonstration—there was nowhere else to go from here—Rodoc was anxious to learn what all the mystery was about. But he had to wait a while longer. The ship proceeded to the space station at LP-4 and entered a huge hangar bay. Electric carts awaited the small entourage, and within thirty minutes of arriving at the destination-point, Rodoc and Morlon were in the command center of the station, with four huge video screens active, techs at their controls.
There was a large clock on the wall, counting down the minutes.
“Now, my friend,” Rodoc began. “You have brought me here—at a distance equal to twice the width of the Suponac. I’m sure you intend to impress me w
ith this demonstration of yours.”
Morlon’s expression remained passive. He seldom expressed emotion. He was all business, all the time. And after their last conversation, Rodoc sensed tension between the pair.
“The purpose is not merely to impress, but to show…viability.” Morlon looked at the clock and then nodded to one of the Cadre One techs.
The top left screen displayed a distant view of a mostly brown planet, with a thin white line of an atmosphere standing out in relief against the black backdrop of space.
“This is a world designated 465-DSK. It is uninhabited and of no commercial value. Its location is within the A-4 Sector, approximately four hundred light-years inside the recognized boundary of the galaxy. This is an active view, transmitted by wormhole communications. Please observe.”
Control panels surrounding the pair began to light off. The screen below the one with the planet came to life, showing a large section of space with a dotting of stars off in the distance, toward the galaxy. A circle appeared on the screen, a graphic representation of the transit zone at this end of the LP-3 gravity tunnel. The generators for this point were much smaller than those needed for the intergalactic transits, so the recharge time was greatly reduced. Still, it had only been less than an hour.
Rodoc looked at Morlon, the question on his face.
“I supplied additional batteries to the LP-3 generators for this demonstration. I know your time is valuable. Now observe the planet.”