by Saxon Andrew
“What do you want?” Tag asked. “I’m not carrying any credits or anything else of value you would want.” He kept his head down, looking at the pavement in front of him. He watched them move closer and spread out to block any escape.
“I hope you don’t mind if we determine that for ourselves,” the man to the left said. “Your clothes look pretty good to me.” He was tall and moved smoothly for his size. The two men on each side of the center man moved to his left and right, holding their knives out. They wore clothes that were old, and their shoes had worn spots on them. One had a pockmarked face that also bore a scar that ran the length of his left cheek. His right hand had scars and looked like it had been burned.
“You can make this easy on yourself or we can do it the hard way,” the one on his left said.
Tag noticed that they all had on hoods but didn’t wear anything to hide their faces from him. The hoods would hide their faces from the camera but not from him.
“I think it’s going to be the hard way even if I wanted it easier,” Tag said to the man on the left. “You’re letting me see your faces, so I think there’s no way you’re going to let me walk away from here. Is there anything I can do to leave safely?” Tag asked while looking at the ground, because he still had four seconds until the camera’s blind spot returned.
The man said, “We have a smart one here, boys. I guess if you let us cut out your eyes so you couldn’t identify us later, we might consider it.” The man cocked his head to the side and then said, “But I don’t think you’ll just stand there and let us do that, would you?” He then looked at the one on his left and nodded.
At that moment Tag saw he was back in the blind spot of the camera again, just as the man on his left lunged forward to cut his throat. Everything suddenly turned to super slow motion. Tag could see in his mind where the attacker’s thrust was going to be, and the attacker’s movements seemed to happen very, very slowly. He stood up, moving at what felt like normal speed, smoothly stepped inside the thrust, placed his hand where the man’s hand was going to be, and grabbed his wrist as it arrived. Then, while turning the man’s arm, Tag slammed his fist into the man’s elbow, breaking it, which caused him to drop his knife. Tag immediately started a roll to his right to avoid the slash of the second attacker, which was aimed at his back. As he started his roll he saw the first attacker’s knife falling slowly by his head toward the pavement, and he reached up and grabbed it with his right hand. In the middle of his roll he raised the knife up into the path of the second attacker’s slash, causing the attacker to cut his own wrist, severing his tendons and ligaments, which caused him also to drop his knife. Tag picked up the second knife with his left hand as he came out of his roll. As he straightened up, he immediately saw a psychic shadow the thickness of a pencil running from his right hand toward the gunman in front of him. The gunman had started to lift his gun to shoot, and Tag threw the knife in his right hand at the shadow, connecting him with the gunman. The knife flew through the pencil-shaped shadow at normal speed and entered the gunman’s right eye socket as he crouched to take aim. The gunman stood there for just a moment before he slowly fell forward.
As the knife left his hand toward the first gunman, Tag sensed that the other gunman behind him was taking aim, so he followed his throwing motion and did a side roll as a bullet slowly went through the space his head had just occupied. As he rolled he saw another pencil-thin shadow under him, and he threw the second knife between his legs. He noticed during his roll that there was a bird flying overhead that appeared to be almost stationary. He thought that time must have somehow slowed down for him. He was moving at what felt like normal speed, but everything else was moving very, very slowly. The knife he threw at the second gunman also flew along that pencil-thin shadow and struck the second gunman in the heart. The gunman fell backwards, his second shot going wild. Tag came out of his second roll, stepped in front of the first attacker, grabbed the arm that was broken, and swung the man viciously face-first into the wall of the building; he then pivoted toward the attacker, who was still holding his cut wrist, and kicked him between his legs. As the attacker bent forward Tag slammed his knee into the attacker’s face so hard that the attacker came off the ground and flipped backward so fast that he hit his head on the concrete with a sickening sound. Then Tag sat down next to the wall and lowered his head. The camera was coming back and the psychic shadows were disappearing.
The big man in the center had not even moved during the few moments that the other four had been killed. He stood there, stunned, and thought, “This isn’t possible; no one can move that fast. This boy killed four men in less than five seconds. He moved faster than my eyes could follow. I was supposed to keep him from running and now here I am, surrounded by four dead men. And these men were good, very good.” They scared him; two of them were former soldiers that were proud of how vicious they were. “Now what do I do?” he wondered. He stood there, afraid to run and afraid to attack, which was fine with Tag, because the blind spot wouldn’t be back for another ten seconds.
Tag’s heart was beating wildly and he was amazed at what happened. He didn’t even have a chance to think about what was happening during the attack; his body seemed to react without conscious thought. “What now?” Tag asked. “Do we continue this, or are you going to let me go?”
The big man noticed that the boy never raised his head when he spoke. As a matter of fact, while all this happened he did not get a good look at the boy’s face; he was moving too fast for him to see. The big man had a lot of experience. He was a former naval marine who had seen more than his share of hand-to-hand training. But he had never seen anything close to this. He may not have seen the boy’s face, but he was certain the boy had seen his. He stood there and struggled with what to do. “What do you suggest?” he asked in a shaky voice.
“Just turn your back, count to three, then go your way,” Tag said. “Just four more seconds,” Tag thought.
Tag knew that the big man was scared about being identified and was not going to go away easily. The big man thought for a moment and then said, “Okay, we’ll do it your way,” and slowly turned around. “Perfect,” Tag thought; he was in the blind spot once more and was immediately moving behind the big man as he turned. It was then a simple task to move through the psychic shadows so he wouldn’t be seen.
The big man slowly turned, started to leave, and then turned to see if the young boy would assure him that he would not identify him. The boy was gone. “Where did he go? Where is he?” he wondered. He turned and looked everywhere, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. He felt a chill in the deepest part of his soul and then he felt fear. He turned and ran. He knew that now his family might be at risk if he was identified.
Only twenty seconds had passed from the moment the first attacker moved to when the big man ran away. That was too short a time for the security team to arrive, but they did land there only two minutes after the big man had started to run away. One of the Directorate surveillance monitors had received a warning from the cameras’ sensors that gunshots were fired and a crime was being committed. The Directorate camera monitor took over manual control of the area cameras just as the big man left the scene. The monitor followed the big man until he lost sight of him when he went through a doorway that was recessed in a wall of a tall habitation building where thousands of families worked and lived. He switched to the cameras inside the building, but there was a shift change taking place and there were hundreds of people moving through the corridors. Even setting the cameras to find only the people who were his approximate size proved fruitless. There were just too many people, and he could have moved out of the corridor without being seen. “They must have planned this so that they could use the shift change to escape,” the monitor thought. The monitor then started looking for the other person that was sitting against the wall, but he was nowhere to be found. “How can that happen?” he wondered.
When the security team arrived at the scene of the attac
k, they looked at the carnage and wondered what had just happened. The bodies had fallen in haphazard fashion and blood was everywhere. John Sinclair, an enforcement committee senior inspector, looked at the bodies and then made a decision. Esa Connor, who was the department head of the North American enforcement committee, received a call on his com and said, “What is it, John?”
“Sir, I’m at a crime scene where four people have just been killed. The killer has escaped without being apprehended and I’m having difficulty determining exactly what happened here.”
“Four people killed,” Esa thought. Then he punched a button on his com and said, “Julie, send me John’s coordinates. I’m going to the scene,”
John looked at the dead bodies and told his team to expect Department Head Connor to arrive shortly. “I don’t remember the last time we’ve had more than two killings,” John thought. “I can use some help.”
Chapter 5
A dmiral Dorg, supreme commander of the Cainth military forces, entered his office, and everyone immediately came to attention. He looked around his command center for a moment and then said, “Rest; continue what you were doing.” He observed his staff going back to their consoles and noticed that their uniforms were perfect and that they were nervous in his presence. “That’s a good thing,” he decided. He stood watching his staff for a few more moments with his top arms crossed on his chest and his lower pair of arms behind his back. He looked out the window and noticed the cold Cainth winter howling outside. He actually enjoyed wintertime and could watch the blue ice shards blowing in the eighty-trigs-per-hour wind for drags. The tall, gray, leafless stone tree outside the window had so many ice shards sticking in its trunk and branches that they were sticking to each other; it was the ice shards that would give the gray tree the moisture it would need for the rest of the cycle. The shards couldn’t penetrate to the core of the tree because it was harder than most modern alloys. Anyone going outside into those conditions was required to wear armor unless they wanted to be cut to shreds by the blowing ice. The stone trees just rocked slowly in the howling wind and absorbed the ice into their bark. Admiral Dorg looked around his command center again and was pleased by the efficiency of his staff. He stepped into his private office, motioning for his adjutant to join him. He sat down and asked, “Tresk, do you have the plan set up?”
“Yes, Admiral,” Tresk said. “I’m in communication with the Glod commander and he’s going to star drive as soon as he receives the coordinates.” Tresk then sent the feed of the Glod ship to Dorg’s display.
“Is our ship in position?”
“Yes sir. It’s been there for three rotations, powered down except for environmental systems and passive sensors. It should be undetectable.”
“When is the human ship expected?”
“We expect it within the next rotation.”
“Did you make sure the Glod understand that whatever the Earth ship says when challenged that they will still attack?”
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, sir. It’s the Glods’ nature to shoot first and then ask questions.”
“Even so, I want the Earth ship destroyed so we can see how far they’ve come in weapon development. I want them to have to use all of their weapons and defenses.”
It had been a hundred years since the Cainth admiral had destroyed the Earth cruiser. Before dying, the Earth ship had destroyed two Cainth destroyers and badly damaged a cruiser and a battleship. Dorg’s grandfather was one of those killed on the damaged cruiser during that battle. His grandfather was a high noble and was third in line for the leadership of his clan. His father, who was a young cub when Dorg’s grandfather died, had never forgotten or forgiven this new civilization for his death, and he had raised his sons to carry that hatred.
Dorg had worked his way up through the ranks until sixty rotations ago he became the overall commander of the Cainth armed services. He consolidated his position by promoting those he knew he could trust and established closer connections with the Glod Union. One of the first things he planned to do was to determine the capabilities of an Earth warship. He also knew that he couldn’t get his hands dirty because of political pressure from the rest of the Alliance, which thought the Cainth were overly paranoid about Earth, a once-peaceful civilization. He also knew the clan leaders would veto the plan if he told them. He made sure he could trust the ones who knew of the plan and he didn’t let anyone else know.
Dorg stood rocking back and forth on his legs while looking at the wall screen that showed the huge Glod cruiser. He admired the cruiser’s numerous weapons and wished his own ships were as powerful. It was 2,300 feet long and bristled with weapon ports. He knew that the Glod cruiser’s screens were stronger than his dreadnoughts and they were also faster. Then he thought about the so-called peaceful humans. “Peaceful my grump,” he thought. That ship had been the focus of two hundred warships and had not been easily destroyed. As a young officer, he replayed the recording of the attack and marveled at how the human ship had maneuvered to avoid concentrated fire. Now a hundred years had gone by and he knew that the humans had not been dormant in developing better weapons. “Of course we learned from that battle too and our ships are better than they were. But are we better than our adversary?” he wondered. He had to know. He decided to use a modern warship to test the human ship to determine how the humans would measure up to modern technology.
So he enlisted the aid of the Glod to make that determination. It really wasn’t hard to get their help. The Glod were not part of the original invasion two hundred years ago because their planet was so far away, but they would have gladly taken part if asked. Among the Alliance members, the Glod were, like the Cainth, very warlike and took great pride in being feared. The only thing that kept them in line was the knowledge that the other 820 members of the Alliance would combine against them if they tried to exercise their warlike behaviors against other members. They had one of the largest fleets in the Alliance, and their ships were considered the best technologically. Dorg knew that his fleet could not match theirs. The Glod ships were larger and faster and had stronger screens and armaments. Their weapons were the best in the Alliance. When Dorg approached one of the Glod’s ambassadors and suggested the importance of finding out the capabilities of Earth’s warships, he had a very receptive audience. Dorg found himself to be physically quite a contrast when he was sitting across from the huge Glod. Dorg was tall for his race at five feet four, but the Glod ambassador stood seven feet six and weighed more than five hundred pounds of hard muscle. His long orange hair hung in a braid down his back and his eyes were vertical slits with green pupils in a light red face. Glods were bipeds and their bodies were hugely muscled. They each had a yellow ridge that ran along the edge of their hairline from ear to ear, and when it turned orange it warned of impending rage. Dorg knew he was no match for a Glod warrior; their history was replete with constant combat between their nations. They were also recognized as the fiercest drop troops of all the Alliance races. They were huge but also quick. When the Glods were armed with their traditional four-foot swords, which they handled almost faster than the eye could follow, most races gave a wide berth to avoid doing anything that might lead to a duel. The thing that brought the Cainth and the Glod together was their temperament. They respected each other for their warrior culture and the aggressive mentality of their races. A Glod would win a hand-to-hand fight but would not come away without injury when facing a Cainth warrior, armed with the three short swords and throwing knives that they deftly used with all four arms. The Cainth had evolved to be able to use all four arms independently. They were once tree dwellers and their arms made climbing and life in trees easy. One pair of arms would hold onto the tree even when they slept, while the other pair would hold their tools. They were deadly in hand-to-hand combat because of their deft use of their four weapons.
Dorg looked at the Glod and said, “I appreciate your willingness to help me with this project, Ambassador.”
> The huge Glod waved his hand and said, “I’m more than happy to do it. We are a warrior culture, and if we don’t find someone else to practice our skills on then we end up fighting each other. The Alliance prevents us from really practicing our fighting skills, so we look for any opportunity to use them. I think that we are a lot like your own race in this.”
“You’re right.”
“How big a ship would you need?” the ambassador asked.
“I think a heavy cruiser should be sufficient,” Dorg responded.
“I’ve got just the ship for what you’re planning. I’ll give you the commander’s link and you can set it up directly with him. I’ll let him know that I’ve approved the action.”
“Thank you. It’s important that we not be tied to the event,” Dorg said.
“Don’t worry about that; our ships are always having run-ins with other vessels, and this should be treated as just another minor skirmish to scream about. Do you want the Earth ship destroyed or just damaged?”
“If it can be destroyed then there will be less evidence to tie us or you to the attack.”
“How big is the ship you’re planning to attack?”
“It’s a destroyer class.”
“You probably don’t need a heavy cruiser. That’s a little overkill, don’t you think?”
“I don’t want to run any risks. I’ll show you the recording of their ship from a hundred years ago. The heavy cruiser will be fine.”
“Do you want our recording of the attack after it’s over?”