Mission Critical: The Human Chronicles Saga - Continuum Book 1

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Mission Critical: The Human Chronicles Saga - Continuum Book 1 Page 4

by T. R. Harris


  The Gracilians didn’t react to the statement, except to say: “Agreed.”

  Now it was Adam’s turn to fight off a near-fainting spell. Damn, I could’ve asked for more!

  “And we will provide you with a Gracilian prototype vessel for the search. It is not as fast as the trans-dimensional starship you are used to, but it does possess advanced technology, making it the fastest vessel using conventional gravity drive in the galaxy.”

  Adam looked at his two alien friends, unable now to contain his excitement. This would be enough money to get the Colony Ship to Earth. From there he could still do his bounty hunting business while being closer to his homeworld and the ongoing efforts to put his life back together.

  “So who took the collector?”

  “Agents hired by Maris-Kliss after we refused to sell the DMC.”

  “An inside job?”

  Volic frowned. “Inside job?”

  “Yeah, someone working at the research facility.”

  Volic’s face lit up with understanding. “Yes, an inside job! I shall explain. The accumulation of cubes at our research station affects the surrounding fabric of space. As a result, the positioning engines, as well as internal gravity, have been affected on a continual basis. To remedy this annoyance, we hired a permanent technician and his assistant to maintain the systems. It was this pair who absconded with the device, intending to provide it to Maris-Kliss.”

  “Has the exchange taken place?”

  “Not as of yet. As mentioned, gravity is affected by so many cubes. Only recently we have developed an effective screening process that negates most of the gravity damping effect. Fortunately, the thieves did not take that with them. There is a possibility both the gravity drive of their stolen starship, as well as wormhole communications, have been affected. We are monitoring events, and as of now, the transfer has not taken place.”

  Adam was worried. His team used CW links to locate their subjects. If CW was down aboard the thieves’ starship, they couldn’t make any calls that could be traced.

  “I’ll need the location of the research station. The thieves will have to get to a planet where they can use a land-based CW facility. How much time has elapsed since the theft?”

  “Six standard days.”

  Adam flinched. “How long would it take to get back in the galaxy from your station, assuming a functioning gravity drive?”

  “At least ten days.”

  “Good; we still have time.”

  Adam smiled at the dark-skinned aliens across the table from him. “I assume you have the credits with you—the ten thousand plus the advance. Why don’t we take care of that part of the transaction right now?”

  Adam and his team watched as the Gracilians counted out stacks of light green Juirean credit chips. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything smaller, would you?” Adam asked. “There are not a lot of places that can break a twenty-five thousand credit chip.”

  The answer was no, and Adam didn’t press the issue. They had about ninety thousand credits in smaller denominations aboard the Colony Ship. That would get the operation underway.

  Once the money part of the transaction was consummated, Volic looked at Adam and frowned. “Do you not wish to know the identities of the thieves?”

  He’d completely forgotten to ask for more details, too wrapped in the aura of a half-a-million credit advance.

  “Yes, of course. Sorry. We’ll also need photos or videos of them. I assume you have those?”

  “We do…and so do you, Mr. Adam.”

  It was Adam’s turn to frown. Why would he have pictures of the dark matter thieves?

  “Who are they?

  “Copernicus Smith and Sherri Valentine.”

  Adam didn’t speak for several seconds, staring at the aliens as a series of thoughts fumbled around in his head.

  “No shit?” he finally said.

  “Pardon me?” Volic said, both confused and offended by the statement.

  “It means did I hear you right?”

  “Yes you did. Mr. Copernicus was the technician we hired to tend to the gravity drives. Miss Sherri came with him. Maris-Kliss was able to make contact and gave them the assignment for an undisclosed amount of credits. We do not believe they came to the station with the express purpose of stealing the DMC. It was more an opportunity event which both parties took advantage of.”

  “Do they know how dangerous these cubes are?”

  “We do not believe so. We have informed MK, yet they seem unconcerned. After your friends stole a starship from the facility and left, we have attempted contact to let them know. Yet their communication links are not operating.”

  Adam was floored by the news. Sherri and Copernicus, two of his closest friends—at least Sherri was—now possessed the most dangerous device in the galaxy…and they didn’t even know it. He smirked, an expression that confused the Gracilians.

  Sherri and Coop may have stolen the device without realizing the danger, but here Adam was about to rush headlong after them to recover it. By all rights, he should be bolting away in the opposite direction as fast as he could. That would be the smart move. But that wasn’t what he did…ever.

  The Gracilians provided details on the location of the research facility and then they left the Klin Colony Ship, leaving one of their starships in the landing bay. Adam and his team went right to work.

  “Jym, program the computer to search for images of Sherri and Copernicus. Kaylor, get a new power module for the Davion and then be ready to back me up should I need it. I’m not worried about Sherri or Coop making a fuss, not after they learn the truth about what they have. What I am worried about is what MK will do, and anyone else who gets wind of the collector—the DMC. I’ll take the Gracilian ship to the Frontier. They say I can make it there in seven days, which is pretty damn fast. I’ll keep trying to raise Sherri on the CW just in case I can break through.”

  His friends agreed to the plan and two hours later Adam had the alien starship loaded with supplies and weapons—including a couple of grav-drive torpedoes he found on the Colony Ship—and was out the airlock, heading for deep space. His biggest concern was that his friends would make the transfer with MK before he could reach them. He found it hard to believe Maris-Kliss would place such dangerous technology in their flash weapons, but what did he know. They didn’t get to be the largest company in the galaxy by playing it safe. Hell, they may be trying to acquire the collector just to keep it out of the hands of their competitors. Still, it was a terrible risk having the DMC out in the open and accessible by people who didn’t realize the danger.

  And that included Sherri and Copernicus. Honestly, Adam would have taken the assignment for free just to protect his friends. But he didn’t tell the Gracilians that.

  3

  “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”

  “That’s not helping,” Sherri Valentine chided.

  “It’s not hurting either!” Copernicus Smith yelled back. He was in the forward focusing ring compartment, having just got the gravity-well to reform a few minutes before. Now it had dissolved again. “I’m beginning to think anything built by the Incus is a piece of crap. First the research facility and now this stupid ship. Hell, we can’t even keep the internal gravity working consistently. That’s a real bitch.”

  Already covered in grease, he bent down and crawled back into the focusing ring access tube. As before, he couldn’t find anything wrong. The damn well just wasn’t stable. He would tweak the alignment a little and hope that would bring the engines back online. It had worked before, if only temporarily.

  It had been a frustrating sequence of fits and starts. After eighteen days in space Sherri and Copernicus were just now making it back to the galactic border. They should have done it in ten. And adding to their anxiety, the Continuous Wormhole communications system was on the fritz, making it impossible to contact Maris-Kliss and coordinate the rendezvous location. They had the goods, now all they needed was the buyer.

 
The comm system had functioned for a little while when they first left the research station, enough to make contact and let the huge weapons manufacturer know they had the dark matter collector. But before they could agree on a contact point, the connection was lost. After that, seventeen days of silence. The buyers must be going crazy, Coop thought. He would. He was. With so much money on the line, he was nervous as a cat thinking it could all go away.

  But why would it? He and Sherri still had the only DMC in existence. MK would wait. They had to.

  Half an hour later Coop met Sherri on the bridge of the small—and supposedly fast—starship. The engines were working again…for the moment. That was encouraging. He also had a bandage on this forehead from when the internals failed a few minutes back, sending him crashing into an overhead support bracket.

  Sherri was at the comm center with a panel removed from underneath, red-faced with frustration.

  “I can’t see anything wrong with it,” Sherri growled. She got to her feet. “We have to find another CW station, and fast.”

  Coop went to the nav console. Now that they were back in the galaxy, there were a few star systems within the range of even their clunky starship.

  “Navior,” he said. “We could go there.”

  Sherri joined him at the screen. “Do you know the place?”

  “Yeah, I used to get a lot of business out of there. The Gradis Cartel has a pretty big presence there.”

  “Won’t they recognize you?”

  “That was years ago, and if there’s one thing I know about criminal cartels, it’s that their rank-and-file change all the time. A few of the leaders may stick around, but not the foot soldiers. It should be fine. Besides, we won’t be there long, just enough to make contact with MK.”

  Sherri snorted. “After that, please promise me we’ll buy the most-expensive starship we can and then throw this piece of shit into the nearest star.”

  “On that you have my word.”

  They kissed, but their hearts weren’t in it. Trapped together for the past eighteen days in the tiny starship had killed what passion they may have had for each other—at least for the moment. They needed a vacation, on a warm, sandy beach somewhere. And whether or not the seven hundred fifty thousand credits they would get for the collector would rekindle the passion, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

  “Uh oh,” Sherri said, looking down at the nav screen.

  Copernicus was seated at the pilot’s station, his feet on the console, dozing. The engines were working at the moment, and he was taking advantage of the respite to catch up on some lost sleep. Fighting with the engines was a full-time job, just as it had been aboard the research station. He was bone tired, and if he never saw another gravity drive system in his life, it would be too soon….

  “Did you say something?” he inquired, Sherri’s voice just now registering in his brain.

  “Yeah, we have company.”

  Coop was by her side a moment later.

  She was right. A huge contact signal had lined up ahead of them, on gravity drive and closing. They knew the cargo they carried was valuable. Had others learned of it and were now wanting their piece of the pie?

  Copernicus returned to the pilot seat. He had absolutely no confidence the engines would hold up during a prolonged sprint away from the huge ship. He changed course slightly, testing the intentions of the contact. The ship changed course to match his.

  “I’m powering down,” he said. “No use making them fire on us. If the shields work like the rest of the systems on this ship, it would only take one cannon bolt to take us out.”

  A sound bleeped through the bridge speakers. Sherri looked at Coop. “What’s that?” Then it dawned on her: it was an incoming conventional communications message. CW links had been used for so long that she’d forgotten what an old-fashion comm signal sounded like. She didn’t even know starships still had them.

  She went to the station, and after a moment, found the contact switch. The message was audio-only.

  “We are reading you…what do you want?” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “We are representatives of the Maris-Kliss organization. Is this the vessel from the Incus-Gracilian research facility?”

  “Yes! Yes it is!” Sherri shouted. “Boy, are we glad to hear from you. Our CW system has been down. How did you find us?”

  “We extrapolated your course from the station to the nearest Incus Federation world and positioned ourselves for an intercept along that path.”

  “Well, great job. We have the collector. Are you ready to make the transfer?”

  There was silence on the line, which caused Sherri to look at Coop and shrug.

  “You say you have the dark matter device…and the cubes?” asked the deep voice through the speakers.

  “Yes, the device plus fifty-two cubes.”

  “Are they secure?”

  Sherri frowned. “Yes, they’re in the cases used by the Gracilians. We haven’t messed with them. They’re just as secure as when we took them.” She pursed her lips, growing frustrated and nervous. “Do you want them or not? If you don’t, I’m sure there are others who will.”

  Copernicus grimaced, believing Sherri’s tone was a little harsh, especially when speaking with representatives from the largest company in the galaxy.

  “We will make the transfer,” said the voice. “We were under the impression you had betrayed us, since no communications were forthcoming.”

  “That’s understandable. But we’re not betraying anyone. Is your ship large enough to take this one onboard?”

  “Yes. We will approach. Rendezvous in thirty standard minutes.”

  The hum of the comm connection ended, signaling an end to the conversation.

  “That was strange,” Coop said. “You would think they would be more excited.”

  “Don’t read too much into it, sweetie. After all, these are aliens we’re dealing with.”

  Coop laughed. “Yeah…and that’s just what they’re saying about us.”

  4

  Copernicus had never seen such a new and shiny starship as the Maris-Kliss vessel. It was built around a long central rectangle, with various modules mounted on the hull, along with stubby wings on each side. The wings were for sensors and advanced focusing ring pods, not for aerodynamics. There was a huge bridge above another large ring compartment that looked to also contain a formidable armament array, if the cannon turrets dotting the exterior were an indicator. This would be unusual for a commercial vessel, if the ship didn’t belong to the largest weapons manufacturer in existence. Coop figured it had been built as part of their sales pitch to potential clients. A practical demonstration of their firepower would be…impressive.

  Although the tiny Gracilian starship was about to enter the bowls of the much larger and well-armed vessel—like Jonah into the whale—Copernicus was anxious to get inside and take look at the interior. He would also ask for a tour of the engine compartments before he left.

  Copernicus had been trained as a starship mechanic long before being recruited to do undercover government work. They came to him several years ago, appealing to his patriotism—and greed. The pay was great and much more stable than the starship repair business. The government knew who his clients were, and paid him well for inside information regarding ship movements, cargos and the individuals involved. His connections with various cartels, syndicates, and just plain old bad guys made him a valuable asset to the government of Earth and their galactic Union. It was exciting work—more exciting than crawling around in engine compartments all day—although he still did that as part of his cover. But knowing he was also in the spy business gave him an extra boost of adrenaline and adventure. When shaving in the morning, he could often be heard talking to the mirror, saying: “Smith…Copernicus Smith,” in his best Sean Connery accent. He loved being a spy.

  That being said, Copernicus was still impressed by a well-built starship. He’d spent so much time keeping barely-servi
ceable vessels running, that to see something this new and sophisticated was almost a sexual experience. He didn’t tell Sherri that, although he suspected she already knew.

  When the Gracilian ship was secure in the hold, the two Humans stepped out into the voluminous chamber, marveling at the shiny metal beams, spotless deck and perfectly stacked and secured chemical propellant containers against the bulkheads. And the crew was just as clean and impressive. Being an interstellar organization, there was no dominant species within Maris-Kliss. Although the company had been founded on the planet Maris, it had outgrown that location centuries ago. Today, one would be hard pressed to say where the headquarters was located. They had so many large operations on dozens of worlds that it was impossible to tell which was number one. And the management liked it that way. They switched locations like some people changed their underwear, mainly to keep governments and their taxing authorities chasing their tail.

  Coop and Sherri quickly identified more than ten distinct Prime species in the landing bay alone. It was remarkable, because their uniforms—even when worn by creatures with a variety of body shapes—all seemed to fit together. This was a crew in the most literal sense of the word.

  A steward came to escort the Humans and their stolen items to the meeting with the big-wigs from MK. A second assistant placed the DMC and the satchel with the cubes on a motorized cart and followed them to a large conference room. Two beings in stark white business suits were waiting for them. Coop’s first thought was: how do they keep the suits so clean aboard a starship? It was something to which he could not relate.

  Both aliens were taller than the Humans, with one very close to Human-like in appearance, while the other had a pair of normal looking arms and hands, but two more sets of smaller appendages below. Coop had seen beings like this before, if not this particular species. The smaller arms were used for feeding and grooming. It was a good bet that the alien’s mouth was in his belly somewhere, hidden now by a flap of silky white fabric. He spoke through the second mouth found on his normal looking face.

 

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