by T. R. Harris
And now there was the minor issue of them being prisoners of the Nuoreans—master warriors with more fighting skill than the Humans had ever faced.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t about to cry—not in front of the aliens—but she was certainly filled with enough hate to firm her resolve. At that moment, Sherri Valentine vowed that she wouldn’t go out like this, not without taking a few of the grey bastards with her.
********
Jym spotted the incoming Nuoreans just as Adam was giving his warning. They were approaching in ground transports, as well as in two small destroyers in the atmosphere, directly above them.
The generators were already charged—Kaylor had a habit of doing this, even on the surface. It made for quicker getaways.
“Hold on!” he yelled at Jym. The two muleship-drivers had worked together for enough years that their actions were as one. Jym was already strapped in at the weapons station, ready for liftoff.
But Kaylor didn’t send the ship skyward. Instead, he sent it skidding along the dirt and asphalt surface of the landing field, churning up reddish dust in the dim light of night on Bancc-Bin. The field was illuminated by the light from the galaxy, plus a few lights set along the perimeter, and within seconds the ground was shrouded in a glowing pink cloud of swirling powder. He moved the ship from underneath the destroyers and launched it on plumes of grey and white chemical exhaust, which only added to the smoke screen.
When five hundred feet off the surface, he jumped the ship.
He already had a location programmed in, and a moment later the Najmah Fayd appeared above the moon of one of the gas giants in the outer Bancc-Bin star system. Kaylor pitched the nose toward the surface, settling into the dark shadow of a small crater. He immediately cut power, sending the ship into dark mode.
In the dim galactic light filtering in through the viewport, Kaylor looked at his friend Jym. Their expressions of concern mirrored each other. They would wait here for the two hours Adam asked them to, before quietly making their way back to the planet.
On the off-chance that Adam’s ATD could reach this far, Kaylor sent out a call. “Adam, can you hear me? Adam, come in if you hear me.”
Even if he was within range, Adam Cain was in no condition to answer his friend.
Chapter 8
“The Human ship has escaped the planet.” Morlon regretted the report to his leader, but he didn’t hesitate to make it. It was reality, and reality is what future strategies were based on. He watched the reaction of the Grand Master on the comm screen. He didn’t appear very pleased with the news.
“And the Humans?”
“Three are in custody.”
“Who’s piloting the spacecraft?” Rodoc asked.
“Unknown.”
“Adam Cain?”
Now Morlon smiled. “No, Master. The local informant has identified Adam Cain as being with the other three Humans at the time the ship lifted, in a residence along the coastal bluff. Our forces report he attempted to jump a wide crevasse and fell to his death on the rocks below.”
“I want proof, Morlon.”
“They are searching for the body now. It is still night on the planet, and the surf is high. They will stay with it until the body is found.”
Rodoc stared hard at his Third Cadre officer. “Did the ship…vanish, as you earlier suggested?”
“Yes, Master. It was barely off the surface—with our ships posted above—when it simply disappeared. No trace signatures of movement within a cloaking shield.”
“Then you could be right about this being something more. How do we stop such a vessel from reaching LP-6 when we cannot track its movements?”
“I have a plan,” Morlon said without hesitation.
“Make it a strategy, Morlon. I need assurances.”
Morlon nodded. “The informant told us the Humans were seeking a navigational computer for the Suponac. This makes sense. The Humans have no knowledge of our galaxy. They apparently do not even know the location of Nuor.”
“That would be to our advantage, I would imagine, Commander.”
“I suggest—strategize—that we let the Humans know the location of the transit point for LP-5, which is their gateway to the LP-6 control station…their ultimate destination.”
Rodoc studied the face of the Cadre officer before responding. With his player’s instincts, the Grand Master already saw the possibilities, as well as the risks. “We control the time and location when the alien ship will appear, and then be ready when they arrive.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Yet can we guarantee success? We have yet to stop the ship, or even track it. And destroying the vessel would steal away our chance to learn its secrets.”
“I have been studying the reports of the ship’s appearance at the LP-6 entry point,” Morlon continued. “The alien vessel was in the area for over ten minutes before it disappeared. On Bancc-Bin, it lifted and jumped in a matter of seconds. I believe the teleportation drive is disabled for a longer period when the ship transits through an LP singularity. It affects our standard drives…why not this new technology?”
“Are you further suggesting we allow the Human vessel through the transit to LP-6? That would place them just where they want to be.”
“Yet if I’m right, they will be susceptible at that point. And making the offered transit would be an impossible-to-dismiss opportunity on their part.”
“If we can stop them at LP-6; it is a risk.”
“A calculated risk, Master. When the Humans first arrived in the Suponac, our forces were not expecting them. This time we will be ready, and have ample units waiting at LP-6 to disable the vessel. I will also send ships through the LP-5 transit point with them, to form a compression point at LP-6. As they appear, we close the trap. The prize will be ours, as play concludes.”
“The game sounds…stimulating, Morlon. We play the Jundac Humans, with both a high chance of success and a challenge factor worthy of our planning. However, the Humans could—should—sense a trap.”
“Of course, yet from my research, Humans are arrogant and believe in their own myth. They—like us—will see this as a challenge.”
“Perhaps, but Morlon, if there appears even the slightest chance the Humans could fulfill their mission, the ship must be destroyed, regardless of the technology it holds. Is that understood? We cannot risk losing LP-6.”
“I understand. And I will be on station awaiting their arrival.”
“Do not underestimate the Humans, Morlon. Others have before, with tragic consequences.”
“Adam Cain played a role in those tragic events, Master. He is no longer a factor.”
“I would have more confidence in your statement if we had a body to view. Do not stop looking until you do.”
********
A splash of cold salty water snapped Adam awake.
He opened his eyes slowly to see a brilliant, cloud-streaked morning sun rising fifteen degrees above the horizon, reflecting vibrant orange on the shimmering sea below. He smiled, thinking how beautiful it was.
His next reaction was a laugh. Here he was pressed against a slab of rock, a bed of barnacles biting into his skin, his right foot wedged in an opening and unable to move, his clothes in tatters and stained in blood from the numerous cuts he’d suffered throughout the night…and he could still admire a beautiful morning sunrise.
He rested against the rock for a while longer, taking in deep breaths of thick ocean mist. The tide had receded leaving him atop a rock fall about ten feet above the surf. Not much of his clothing remained, and sometime during the night he’d lost his shoes. His bare right foot was stuck in an opening in the rock, sharp points tearing into water-logged flesh with every tiny movement.
His mutant cells helped lessen the pain, and a quick survey of his exposed arms showed a rash of red dots where once open cuts had been. He didn’t heal with the speed of a Panur, but as he’d observed before, this was far better than the old way of doing things
.
He shifted his head to look at his trapped foot. The ankle didn’t feel broken, but it was wedged in there pretty tight. He bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath. It was time to test his new found tolerance for pain.
Adam pulled, groaning gutturally as layers of skin were ripped away on the prickly barnacles. His bloody foot appeared, leaving trails of red liquid coloring the shallow pool of ocean water trapped in the opening.
He pushed off the rock and sat up.
“Damn,” he said to the vast ocean. “Now what?”
********
He rested for another thirty minutes. By then his foot had stopped bleeding and the open cuts were beginning to close. Strength was returning, but slowly. He stood up and tested his injured foot. He could put weight on it, but the ankle was badly sprained. Walking barefoot on the sharp rocks was another challenge, but he had no choice. He looked toward the top of the craggy bluff, trying to identify a path to the top. He had to get off the beach before the tide came back in, and the only way was up.
Adam moved gingerly on the rock, closer to the cliff, trying his best to ignore the new cuts on his feet. The climb wouldn’t have been too hard…if he wasn’t barefoot.
Suddenly he ducked into a shallow crevasse in the cliff face, slicing his shoulder open on a razor-sharp piece of lava in the process. Two Nuoreans were making their way along the rocky beach, heading his way. They were armed with flash rifles slung over their shoulders and pistols in holsters around their waists. They scrambled from rock to rock with ease and confidence, but more aware of their footing than what was in front of them. They were looking for a body, not an adversary.
Adam took a loose rock in his right hand and prepared himself. They would be on him any second. Unfortunately, the Nuoreans weren’t traveling side by side. The trailing alien was a good twenty feet behind the other.
When the first alien came parallel to his hiding place, Adam jumped out and slammed the rock into the gray-skinned face, leaving the rock embedded in the crushed skull. He caught the slumping body in his arms, removing the flash pistol before letting the corpse fall to the rocks and off the side into the surf. Before the other Nuorean could react, Adam took aim and placed a bolt square into his face.
Adam rushed to the dead alien and removed his shoes. They fit—if a little big. Next he took off his uniform jacket, flash rifle and holster. A moment later, Adam was dressed, armed and ready for the climb up the cliff.
He scanned the beach for more aliens. They were there, but farther away, looking out at the sea or into crevasses in huge rock boulders deposited on the shore from the bluff above. They weren’t looking for him per se…just his body.
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 crow
ding 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.