by T. R. Harris
“It’s because I’m Superman, dickhead.” Adam pulled back his torn shirt, showing were the cut was now only half the width it had been a minute before. His healing juices were working overtime, perhaps triggered on the adrenalin in his blood. He was healing at even a faster rate than before.
“You are not…normal.”
“Normal is a relative term. But now—what did you say your name was…Morpheus?—I have something to do and you’re in my way.”
“It is Morlon (783), and if you are referring to the realignment of the gravity generators, you are embarking on an impossible mission.”
The wicked confidence of the Nuorean made Adam’s stomach churn.
The alien stepped into the silence. “I assume because you are rushing to the generators that you have discovered the location of staging area for LP-6. You believe you can shift the transit zone, possibly bring it closer. As a master strategist, I have foreseen your actions and have destroyed the controls for all the attitude jets, as well as for the launch sequence. You cannot adjust the alignment and you cannot stop the launch.”
Morlon was growing more excited by the moment, reveling in the shock on Adam’s face. He continued: “As defeated as you feel now, I have more to tell. This information you will find of particular interest. Have you considered why the staging area for LP-6 is so far from the rim? It was done for a purpose…so we could reach a particular point within the Kac. Do you know where that might be?”
Adam broke out in a cold sweat. “Let me guess…Earth.”
Morlon smiled. “Yes, your planet Dirt.”
Adam’s mind began to work overtime deciphering what he just heard. It made sense, and when considering what a transit pulse could do to a planet, he knew the next one through LP-6 was no ordinary transit between galaxies. This next one—the one he intended to ride back home—would mean the destruction of Earth.
Morlon was overjoyed, watching Adam’s reaction to the news. There was no doubt the alien was telling the truth, but what Morlon didn’t know was Adam was already thinking ten steps ahead. Because of this, Adam had no more time to waste on the alien.
Accessing the genius in his mind, Adam calculated the weight and length of the sword, as well as the distance to Morlon. Then he smiled at the alien, which caused the grin on the alien’s face to vanish.
“Well—Morlon—did you foresee this?”
Adam drew back the sword and then hurled it at the Nuorean.
It twirled through the air before the blade entered the center of the alien’s chest tip-first and just to the right of the double set of yellow stripes. Wide brown eyes displayed the shock coursing through Morlon’s body, as the unthinkable became reality. He dropped his own sword and grasped the hilt of Adam’s. He tried pulling it from his chest but was too weak from the rapid loss of blood. He dropped to his knees, still clutching the sword.
Adam didn’t pause to consider the dying alien. Instead he ran past him and through the portal on the other side of the arena. A minute later, he was banging on the hatch to the Najmah Fayd.
“Kaylor! Open up. It’s me!”
Ten seconds later the hatch lifted away; Adam was through the opening before it had fully opened.
“Seal the hatch,” Adam ordered as he ran for the bridge. “We’re leaving.”
“Trouble?” Kaylor yelled after him.
“Always.”
Adam slipped into the pilot seat, and three seconds later had the ship released from the grapples and streaking away from the space station on a shallow maneuvering well.
“They’re firing at us!” Jym yelled from his station. With only one gravity generator working, they didn’t have power for both the well and the shields…or even the weapons for that matter. With only twenty nine minutes left before the LP-5 generators lit off, propulsion was the priority.
The fortunate thing about plasma bolts is that once they left their launchers, they acted more like ballistics than guided missiles along their flight path. Because of this, Adam was able to perform some fancy evasive maneuvers to avoid the bolts, and as he covered more of the five thousand miles between the station and the generators, the bolts came less frequent—again for fear of hitting the complex.
His target zoomed up in front of him. Here’s where the tricky part came in.
111
Riyad and Copernicus had linked up and were now flying in tandem toward the station. That’s when they noticed a familiar contact on their screens. It was designated the Najmah Fayd—and it was bolting away from the station, heading for the generator complex. Their flight paths were within twenty-six miles of each other.
Riyad opened a channel to the ship, even knowing his comm signal could be traced. He didn’t care; he had to know what was going on.
“Riyad to Kaylor—or whoever’s piloting the Najmah Fayd.”
“I’m here, Riyad,” Adam replied, sounding hurried.
“What’s up? We saw you blast past us like a bat outta hell.”
“The generators are lined up on Earth, Riyad. If they go off, it will destroy the planet.”
Riyad and Coop turned their PAVs. “We have to set off the bombs before the launch!” Riyad said.
“That’s not possible,” Adam stated. “You know that. They’re designed to be tamper-proof and only activate after the transit pulse.”
“Then we have to stop the pulse…somehow.” Copernicus said through the comm.
“Get back to the station,” Adam ordered. “Sherri’s in the main control room on the fifth level, across from the landing bays.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have a plan. Now go. I’ll be right behind you.”
Riyad and Coop turned their little ships around again and raced off for the space station. There were still a lot of alien ships around, and the ones not shooting at Adam had homed in on Riyad’s comm. They were coming about. Fortunately, the Nuoreans knew something was out there; they just couldn’t lock on.
Ten minutes later, the PAVs passed through the huge open portal of the now-empty landing bay. They didn’t bother with closing the door and pressurizing the space. Instead, they clunked on metal shoes for one of the three airlocks leading into the ship.
Emergency lights were flashing and alarms were going off. They kept their helmets on as it became obvious part of the station had lost atmosphere and pressure, undoubtedly from when Adam pulled the Najmah Fayd from the hole he’d cut in the hull. Most of the station was sealed with pressure doors, but the pair soon came upon an internal emergency airlock designed for just these occasions. Once through and into fresh air they took off their helmets.
“Sherri, we’re on our way,” Coop said through his throat mic.
“Where are you?”
“In the station, about a hundred yards from your location. Any hostiles around?”
“Not anymore,” she snickered. “Adam’s gone off to the generator complex.”
“I know. We passed him on the way back. What’s he doing?”
“He thinks he can realign the generators from there.”
Riyad began to bang on the closed door to the control room, assuming he had the right place from the pile of dead Nuoreans on the floor outside. Sherri opened it and jumped into Coop’s space-suited arms.
The trio then rushed to the main monitor console.
“Those fucking bastards,” Coop said after he deciphered the graphic on the screen to be the transit line for the LP-6 generators.
“Did Adam tell you the transit zone for LP-6 is six thousand light-years away?” Sherri asked. “He’s going to see if he can bring it closer so we can catch the jump in time.”
There was something about Sherri’s tone that didn’t sit right with Riyad.
“You do know the pulse is aimed at Earth, don’t you?” he asked.
Sherri jerked her head in his direction. “What did you say?”
“You didn’t know? That’s why it’s so far into the galaxy on this side.”
“W
e have to destroy the generators…now! Or stop the pulse.”
“We can’t use the bombs,” Coop said. “But Adam thinks he has a plan.”
“He thinks he has a plan?”
“It’s Adam, babe. Don’t tell him I said this, but I have confidence he’ll do the right thing.”
“So do I. But if he screws up, not only will we die, but so will everyone on Earth.”
They turned their eyes to the screen again. “I’m just glad it’s him out there and not one of us,” Sherri said. “No offense intended.”
“None taken,” the men said in unison.
Adam steered the Najmah Fayd to what would be the right side generator and approached near the outer end. He turned the ship on its nose and gently maneuvered it toward the surface. Tiny gas jets burped at his command until contact was made.
“Sherri!” he said aloud for the benefit of Kaylor and Jym.
Her response was channeled through his ATD and into his mind. The tiny tactical comm units the team wore didn’t have the range to reach the generator complex.
I’m here. So is Coop and Riyad.
“Good. Now watch the red dot I placed on the screen. I’m going to try to line up the transit line with that dot. Understood?”
Aye, aye, sir.
“Okay, here goes.”
Adam truly had no idea if the relatively tiny starship could make the fifteen-hundred-mile-long monster move even an inch. But an inch, over intergalactic distances, would be enough to save Earth. The question after that: Could he do enough to save the team?
He lit off the chemical engines, gently at first. He had to apply slow and steady pressure rather than a strong heavy burst. If he did that, all he’d do is punch a tiny hole in the hull surrounding the generator and smash the nose of his ship. After thirty seconds, he opened the link with Sherri again.
“Anything?”
Not that I can see, but the scale is pretty big.
“Press the button on the left side of the keyboard with the infinity symbol. That should zoom in.”
That worked, but still no change I can tell.
“Patience. This is a big-ass muther I have to move.”
Adam checked the chronometers. LP-5 was due to go off in twenty-one minutes, LP-6, an hour later. He felt pretty sure he could move the behemoth. What he wasn’t so sure about was how long it would take.
He increased the thrust a little, which reminded him of another problem. He was running low on chemical fuel. Normally, the rockets were used only for lift offs and landings, so a small supply could last a while. But they’d been using the chem jets for everyday propulsion. He checked the gauge and shook his head. Like everything else, it was coming down to the wire.
It’s moving! Sherri screamed in his mind.
“How much?”
Enough to be noticed. Can you shift it a little the right?
“Your right or mine?
More toward the station.
“Got it.” Adam angled the nozzle deflectors a fraction, which changed where most of the pressure was applied on the generator shell.
That’s it. It’s really moving now.
Adam couldn’t tell that it was moving at all. But it didn’t have to shift much.
You’ve done it, Adam! Earth is saved!
“Thanks, but there’s more to do. Let me know when the line is on the dot.”
Get ready. Okay! Stop.
Adam cut the thrust and held his breath. This was the moment of truth.
“Is it still moving?”
No, not that I can see. Is it supposed to?
“No; I was worried it would just keep moving.”
What about the distance to the TZ?
“That’s my next project. I’ll be in touch.”
Adam pulled the Najmah Fayd away from the generator tube and skirted along the surface. Half a dozen Nuorean warships hovered above him, matching speed, but refusing to fire toward the generator complex. He wrapped around the huge metal-frame sphere and dropped down toward a box set on top of the left generator. At first it looked small and insignificant, but the closer they got, the bigger it became.
“What is that?” Kaylor asked.
“It’s the airlock and auxiliary control room for the generators.”
Adam set the ship down next to the entrance to the airlock.
“I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Before the aliens could react, Adam was off the bridge and sprinting down the spine corridor for the landing bay. Once there, he pulled a spacesuit out of a closet and slipped it on. Two minutes later, he opened the back door and stepped out onto the surface of the midpoint generator.
It was an eerie feeling. The surface extended into the distance with no edge in sight, looking like a flat sheet of metal in space. Above him was the black emptiness of space—along with six Nuorean warships keeping an eye on things.
He took in the sights for only the twenty steps it took to reach the airlock. He opened the door then sealed it behind him. Automatic sensors took over and air filled the chamber. Adam passed through the inner door and into a large compartment lined with basic monitors, consoles and chairs.
There were also two Nuoreans in the room who didn’t much appreciate his arrival. Fortunately, they were unarmed. But they were Nuoreans. One of the aliens swung a balled up fist at his helmeted head. Adam ducked, hearing a loud thud on the top of his helmet. The alien stepped back, holding his injured hand in the other.
Adam was wearing spacesuit gloves with heavy copper fittings. He lashed out a wide, powerful swing that caught the injured Nuorean across the side of his head. He was dead before he hit the deck.
The other alien then jumped on his back, grasping for Adam’s life support hoses. Adam dropped to one knee, sending the Nuorean tumbling over his shoulder. Another straight punch with his now super-human strength, and his last obstacle was gone.
Adam surveyed the controls set about the room. It wasn’t hard to see where the alien Morlon had ripped units from the walls and consoles. But Adam was looking for something else.
He found an undamaged console and sat down. He took off his gloves and pressed a button that lit up the screen, after which his fingers began to dance on the keyboard at warp speed, while he read at a pace that made the symbols blur. Then he froze the screen. He read the information displayed in more detail.
He began to type again and more images flashed by. He slowed the progression until one particular screen appeared. Adam smiled.
Sherri? he said, this time completely within his mind.
I’m here.
Watch the length of the line. Let me know if you see any change.
He began to rapidly punch the same key over and over again.
Whoa! That’s doing something. It’s almost to the dot.
Let me know when.
A few more taps and then….
That’s it. Bullseye. Are you done now? If so, get back here. We’re running out of time.
On my way.
Three minutes later, Adam was back in the landing bay of the Najmah Fayd.
“I’m back, Kaylor. You can take off.”
“Pardon me, Adam, but there is a force of alien warships sitting overhead. I would prefer if you were at the controls.”
Adam smiled. “Yeah, that might be a better idea. Be there in ten seconds.”
Adam took the controls and sent the ship racing along the seven hundred mile length of the left side generator, skimming barely twenty feet off the surface. He was on chemical drive and gaining speed as he went. The Nuoreans ships above him had no problem keeping up.
But then Adam made a sharp left turn, channeling the exhaust through the starboard side nozzle. He’d given Kaylor and Jym a heads up before making the turn, but it didn’t make a difference. They began to bitch and moan immediately after regaining their senses.
The ship was now in open space, and although the six alien ships were surprised by the sudden move, they recovered quickly and sent nine
deadly plasma bolts racing his way. Nine bolts were a lot for Adam evade, at least without killing his crew, but he did it. Now his alien friends were too battered and weary to complain. Adam would take the peace and quiet when he could find it.
After engaging a shallow gravity-well, five thousand miles of space was a hop, skip and a jump for the Najmah Fayd. The inertia compensators helped with the rapid deceleration at the space station. Adam steered the ship into the landing bay, crushing one of the team’s PAVs in the process. Adam grimaced as the metal crunched but was secure in knowing the tiny craft would no longer be needed.
Adam told Kaylor and Jym to stay put, saying the rest of the crew would be joining them in a few minutes. Then stilled dressed in his spacesuit, he left the ship and passed through the airlock into the space station.
Adam followed Coop’s directions for the fastest route to the control room using the internal airlock. Once in the room, he removed his helmet and gloves. Sherri, Riyad and Copernicus all congratulated him on saving the Earth, although their spirits didn’t match their words. Adam knew why.
The LP-5 generators were set to go off in twelve minutes, which was about thirty minutes too short. He had adjusted the TZ for LP-6—making it possible for them to reach it between the pulses—but without making the first connecting train, they were doomed to miss all the others.
“Hey, cheer up,” Adam said as he sat at the main control console. “All is not lost.”
“I hope you’re not just screwing with us,” Copernicus said.
“Not this time.” He began to type on the keypad.
Sherri leaned in closer, although she couldn’t read a word of Nuorean. “What are you doing?”
“Let me ask you: What is my main function within the team? Don’t answer that, I’ll tell you. I’m the ass-saver onboard. I save asses for a living.”
Riyad put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “So what do you have in mind this time, Adam the Ass-Saver?”
He continued to type as he talked. “All these stations are linked together by wormhole communications…and right now I’m trying to link up with LP-5.”
“Why? They aren’t going to hold up the shot until we arrive at the TZ,” Sherri said. “As a matter of fact, they probably have another fleet waiting at the other end to reinforce their comrades at this end.”