Jason King: Agent to the Stars 1: The Enclaves of Sylox

by T. R. Harris

  “What’s the big deal?” Adam asked. “I’ve always had pretty fast reactions, and I’m actually a damned good shot.”

  After a moment, Kaylor answered. “You should not be able to do that. I’ve never seen anyone even come close to how fast you can draw a weapon. Also, you didn’t use the targeting computer. How is it that you can hit a target without targeting assistance?”

  “Well, that part seemed pretty silly to me. Why do you have to wait for a computer to tell you when to shoot?”

  Kaylor persisted. “You should not be able to hit a target without assistance. If you do, then it is simply luck. Yet what I saw today was not luck.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but we don’t use targeting computers on our handguns. We do with missiles and rockets and things like that, but not with handguns or rifles. Besides, he was only about twenty feet away. I’d have to be blind to miss at that range.”

  Jym coughed. “I don’t mean to spoil the moment, but what about the salvage?”

  Kaylor seemed relieved at the change the subject. “It has been registered. We are to go back tomorrow at Day4 for the final inventory and receipt.”

  “And him?” Jym nodded toward Adam, who was still practicing drawing the MK-17, seemingly getting faster every time.

  “The Registrar said he couldn’t help him get back to his planet … so I said he could stay on with us until the owners showed up for the claim or the verdict on the salvage is rendered. His hope is that if the owners show up they could help him find his home.”

  “But that could be months from now! You mean he is to remain here for all that time? You can clearly see how dangerous this thing can be.”

  “I told him two months—”

  “Hey, I’m right here in the room with you,” Adam said.

  “We’ll put him to work, doing something,” Kaylor continued. “But I could not leave him on-planet without any resources.”

  “It looks like he can take care of himself,” Jym countered.

  “If killing is an occupation….”

  Adam turned toward the two arguing aliens: “Listen up you two; I’m not going to be any trouble. I’m a hard worker and a fast learner, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me so far, really. Just right now I need a little time to figure out what I’m going to do.” He then took a few steps towards Jym. “Remember, from my perspective, it’s only about a day since I was back home, and without ever dreaming that I’d be here and going through all this shit,” he said, while leaning over the seated alien. “Besides, this is your reality, not mine. So Jym, why don’t you try to cut me a little slack!”

  Jym had recoiled from Adam as his diatribe grew more impassioned. Now he recovered slightly. “That’s understandable, Adam Cain. I’m just not used to someone disturbing our routine. If it’s okay with Kaylor, then it is surely okay with me.”

  “That’s better,” Adam said forcefully. “Now can we all just try to get along?” And with that last plea, Adam took off the holster and handed it back to Kaylor. He then gathered up the two other weapons he’d taken from the Rigorians and left to return to his room. He had a lot of thinking to do….

  Chapter 11

  Overlord Oplim Ra Unis was having a terrible day. He had just received a report that tax revenues for The Fringe were down seventeen-percent and that the mining operations on Castor were stalled because of a delay in getting a new drilling unit shipped in from Sector Seven.

  But what frustrated the young Overlord the most was the reality that his superiors back on Juir would not care. To them, The Fringe was so inconsequential, such an afterthought, that they treated the region as a bonus to all their other operations. So no matter what Oplim did, he would never be noticed.

  And that was why so many of his colleagues in the Juirean Authority had been shocked to learn that Oplim had actually requested The Fringe. With such a vast and growing Expansion – and so few Juireans available to fill vital posts – he could have had his pick of any of a dozen Sectors. Yet he chose The Fringe.

  Oplim closed the file on his computer, leaned back in his chair and stared out through the huge plate-glass window that made up the entire right wall of his office. Before him lay the urban expanse of Cyol, the city on the planet Melfora Lum where the Juireans had established their sector headquarters some seventy-odd standard years before. It was the largest city in The Fringe – as would be expected – with skyscrapers and traffic routes, even elevated arrow trains that shuttled the inhabitants to and from their daily tasks. The planet itself offered a temperate climate, ample farmland, and even the gravity was nearly that of Juir. But it had been Oplim’s hobby – indeed his obsession – that had brought him to Melfora Lum, and out to the very edge of the civilized galaxy.

  So when his secure computer link had buzzed a few moments before – and he read the attached file – his heart began to race rapidly, and his breath came in shallow gulps.

  Could this be it? Could this be what he’d come all the way out here to find?

  Oplim had traces on all communications throughout The Fringe, including vidcasts, link transmissions, ship chatter – and even salvage registrations. Search parameters were entered and any hits, even the most obscure, were correlated and weighed against all known databases.

  This hit came from a salvage that had just been registered on the planet Nimor. Undoubtedly, Oplim had received the information only milliseconds behind even the bureaucrats on the planet, but unlike them, he was privy to information they were not.

  The configuration was correct, the technology consistent, and even the dead occupants coincided with the archives. This was definitely a Klin ship. At last he had his proof!

  For over twenty standard years, Oplim had tracked every credible sighting, report, rumor or myth regarding the elusive Klin. Within his program, he had noted each of these, no matter how vague, no matter how reliable. And then, after so many years, a pattern had begun to emerge.

  As the Juirean Expansion grew larger, the locations of the most recent reports would move inexorably further out, away from the more populated regions of the galaxy. It was obvious what was happening: The Klin were moving. And now there was no place further out than The Fringe.

  It had been a remarkable gamble on Oplim’s part. After all, many in The Expansion did not even believe that the Klin still existed, and to be labeled a Believer did not sit well with the Elites or the Juirean Council. Besides, with a whole galaxy to govern, most Juireans had neither the time nor the inclination to pursue fairy tales. The Klin had been eradicated during The Reckoning, and to most Juireans, they no longer existed as a race.

  And yet here was a Klin ship – a living relic of a time long forgotten.

  Oplim watched the video that the survey crew had taken, and even though the ship itself was not conclusive evidence – after all, it had been nearly four-thousand years since anyone had seen a Klin spaceship – it was the bodies they found onboard that cinched it. Evolution does not work so fast that in four-thousand years a species would not be recognizable. The Juireans had plenty of records that showed what a Klin looked like, even though it had been four millennia since anyone had verifiably seen one in the flesh, even a dead one. There were definitely dead Klin aboard the derelict starship.

  But just finding hard evidence that the Klin still existed wasn’t enough for Oplim. If the Klin still lived, then they had to have a base of operations somewhere, and more-than-likely it was right here in his sector.

  Oplim quickly scanned the report until he found what he was looking for – and then he slammed his fist down hard on his desk! He was afraid of this … the ship’s computer core was missing. That core would hold the location to the Klin hiding place.

  Reading more detail, Oplim saw where it was reported that the damn Fringe Pirates had attacked the ship and then removed certain items, including the core, before abandoning their kill. He read with disbelief – as well as a little admiration – how a pair of lowly mule-drivers had tricked the pirates
into running away. Unfortunately, before they left they had taken the core.

  But wait, what was this? He read further. There was a survivor! Not a Klin, but another creature who had been aboard the Klin ship at the time of the attack. The vids were both informative and confusing. There had been eighty of these creatures aboard – Humans they were called – and they had all been intentionally killed by the Klin, all except for one. And he was currently on Nimor.

  Oplim’s mind quickly assessed the situation and then formulated a plan, as Overlords had been trained to do for thousands of years. Tapping the communications tab on his desk, he commanded that a secure and direct link be established between himself and Fleet Commander Giodol Fe Bulen.

  ********

  Commander Giodol was surprised to receive a link directly from the Overlord; he answered immediately.

  “Commander, where are you at this time?” his Overlord asked without preamble.

  “We are near Silea, My Lord, showing our force to the natives,” he answered. With no real enemies in this part of The Expansion, the tiny Fringe fleet was used primarily for intimidation purposes, as a reminder of just how powerful the Juireans were.

  “I have a vital assignment for you,” Oplim stated. Giodol perked up. He was so tired of simply showing the flag to these backwater beings. “I need you to launch an assault on the pirate base at K’ly and extract information from all the captives.”

  Giodol was stunned. Was he hearing his Overlord correctly? This was real action, and against the only menace – if minor – within the region. The Fleet Commander was aware that recently the pirates had become much bolder and proficient with their activities, even going so far as to stage raids on planetary cities. They also appeared to be working better as a unit, rather than as independent ships with no real organization governing their actions. Now the young Overlord was finally going to take action against them. “Of course, My Lord, I will do as you wish with enthusiasm. It is time we subdue the pirate activities—”

  The Overlord continued, interrupting: “Yesterday a vessel was attacked by three pirate ships in The Void, near the planet Nimor. The pirates made off with the ship’s computer core. That is what you must recover, Commander.”

  Giodol was surprised by the assignment. This was something different than punishment for the pirates’ sector-wide activities.

  “Commander, you are authorized to use whatever means necessary to recover the core.”

  “Was it removed from a Juirean ship, My Lord?” Giodol asked, trying to find the reason why this particular core would be so important to the Overlord.

  “No, it was not, but that is not your concern. Just bring me the core as soon as it is recovered.” Then the Overlord broke the link.

  Giodol stared at the blank screen for a few seconds more, wondering why the Overlord was acting so strangely. Oplim had come to The Fringe only two years before, while Giodol had been there for nearly ten. He had experienced no particular issues with the young Overlord in that time, and even now, this was not an issue he would dwell upon. The Overlord must have his reasons. And we’re Juireans; we never question the motives of another Juirean.

  Giodol knew the location of the pirate base on K’ly; it was one of the least kept secrets in The Fringe. It’s just that no one had ever taken the initiative to go there before. Now he had a mission, a purpose. And as he had told the Overlord, he would accomplish his assignment with enthusiasm.

  After breaking the link with his Fleet Commander, Oplim next opened a link to Counselor Deslor Lin Jul on the planet Castor. Deslor was one of three Counselors assigned to the Overlord, but by far his favorite. He also shared Oplim’s belief in the existence of the Klin.

  Once the link was established, Oplim spent the first few minutes briefing Deslor regarding the Klin ship and the actions he’d set in motion against the Fringe Pirates. The Counselor, too, was ecstatic.

  “Deslor, I need you to go to Nimor and interview the mule-drivers. They are not to spread any information regarding this ship … is that clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Deslor said. “I assume you have put a lock on all references to the ship and its recovery?”

  “Of course I have. All files have been blocked from dissemination. After you have interviewed the parties on Nimor, I want you to bring the ship – and this survivor – to me here on Melfora Lum. As far as we can tell, this creature has had direct contact with the Klin. We must know the connection between the Klin and …” he looked down at his notes, “… these Humans. How long until you can get to Nimor?”

  “I can be there in seventeen hours.”

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, Adam learned that Day4 meant four hours after sunrise on Nimor. Everyone seemed to be in a better mood this morning, even Jym, as the three of them crowded into a transport cab for the trip to the Ministry Complex.

  There was a marked increase in activity in the compound this morning compared to the day before, with literally dozens of the hairy creatures scurrying about with obvious purpose. Maybe yesterday they’d just hit the place right around closing time.

  It doesn’t really matter, he thought, because today is the day I’ll begin my journey home. He had begun telling himself that, while holding onto the optimistic belief that the ship’s owners would soon come to claim their property. The chant was cathartic, even if comprised primarily of wishful thinking.

  As he sat in the back of transport, he proudly displayed the MK-17 bolt launcher he wore on his hip. He felt much better wearing the weapon in this strange, new environment. As a military man, his weapon was his best friend. He’d even found a ribbon of leather in the cargo hold which he used to tie the bottom of the holster to his lower thigh, just to keep it from riding up when he drew the weapon. This had allowed him to quicken his draw even more.

  In addition, Adam carried with him a slight superiority complex, based on the reactions he’d witnessed from Kaylor and Jym the day before. They made him believe that he’d accomplished something pretty spectacular against the yellow-eyed lizards. It also meant that if this was the best these aliens had to throw against him, then he really had nothing much to worry about.

  As a matter of fact, Adam kept playing the fight scene over and over again in his mind, and each time he did, he realized that he had never been in any real danger from the lizard-things. The speed of their draws was like watching it in slow motion, and even if they had equaled him in drawing speed, they would have stood there for a second or so before firing, waiting for the damn targeting computer to do its thing.

  Was this how they all did it? If so…well damn!

  Adam followed Kaylor and Jym as they entered the brick building once again and took the stairs to the second floor. The building was packed, but the office of Fredic Dess was empty, except for the ubiquitous bureaucrat.

  Dess was especially friendly this morning, much more cordial than the day before, yet he did start the conversation with an apology. “I’m terribly sorry, but I must insist that you remove your weapons and place them over there.” He indicated a table set against the left wall, next to the second door to his office. “We have a dignitary arriving today and we have instituted new restrictions for today only.”

  Even though Adam was just getting used to his new sidearm, he obliged, as did Kaylor; Jym was not carrying a weapon.

  Once they were all seated in front of the desk, Dess leaned back in his chair and locked his gaze on Adam. Suddenly, seven black-vested guards burst into the room from both entrances, each pointing their long-barrel weapons at him. Adam jumped up from his seat, but after a quick survey of the situation, he sank back into the chair with a sigh of resignation.

  “You, the Human known as Adam Cain, are to be detained pending investigation of the unprovoked death of two Rigorian primes yesterday late-day,” Dess announced to him.

  “That was self-defense.” Kaylor countered, much to his credit. Adam remained silent, surveying the armed guards.

  “That is not w
hat the witnesses relay. A Council will be convened to weigh all the evidence.”

  Adam leaned over closer to Kaylor. “I thought you said there wasn’t much law around here,”

  “I was present,” Kaylor said, ignoring Adam. “The Rigorians initiated the challenge. It was a fair fight.”

  “Two Rigorian warriors dead in a life-challenge against a single being?” Dess shook his head. “I’m not a judge here, but I find that hard to believe. He will be held within the Complex as we investigate.”

  It was then that Kaylor noticed the guards were also pointing their weapons at him as well. “What are you doing—?”

  Dess cut him off. “And the two of you are also to be detained, pending the arrival of, and the questioning by, Juirean Counselor Deslor Lin Jul.”

  Adam saw the utter look of shock on the faces of his two companions, a blood-draining mask of terror different from any previous expressions Adam had witnessed. In was a look of pure fright.

  “A Juirean Counselor is coming here – to see us?”

  “That is correct. The Juirean Authority has taken over the case of your salvage. It is no longer under local jurisdiction.”

  Kaylor started to say something before nearly choking. Once he regained his voice, he asked, “When will the Counselor be arriving?”

  “He will be here later today, approximately Day10. You will be held here until his arrival.”

  “But we haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Immaterial. I am only following orders.”

  “But we’re not going anywhere. Why can’t we leave and return when he arrives?”

  “That is not my decision to make. Take them away.”

  Chapter 13

  Riyad Tarazi had just finished a rigorous workout when the link came through from Angar in Gildemont. Bare-chested, he wrapped a towel around his shoulders and opened the link.