by T. R. Harris
“Uh oh,” Adam said, glancing at the main proximity monitor. Riyad left Benefis with the head wrap half completed and met Adam at the station.
“We were expecting this,” Adam said.
“We were? I wasn’t…at least not this.”
“Get the others up here. We have some decisions to make.”
********
“What’s that saying: from the frying pan into the fire?”
Adam scrunched his face at Sherri’s pessimistic observation. It was true, and now all eyes were once again on him, expecting him to pull some profound, mission-saving strategy from his ass. Honestly, this was getting old. At some point he would welcome some help.
“The Hal’ic forces have formed a battleline facing the Sol-Kor defenders of Silana,” Lila said, answering Adam’s unspoken prayer. “There appear to be more defenders than would be expected. Our dilemma is that we’re on the Hal’ic side of the line, and in a Sol-Kor mainship.”
“Oh, and add to that,” Sherri began, “a dozen Hal’ic ships have just broken off from the main line and are heading our way. Awaiting your orders, Captain Cain, sir.”
So much for answered prayers…
“Speaking of that, anyone here willing to take over command? I’m open to giving up my seat. I’m about as commanded out as a guy can get.”
“Look on the bright side, my friend,” Riyad said with a smile. “You have about forty-five seconds to come up with a plan before the Hal’ic are upon us. Time enough for a cup of coffee before the situation becomes critical.”
“I suppose we could threaten to commit suicide if they come any closer,” offered Adam with a smirk.
Benefis was literally bouncing in his seat from nerves. “I do not see how that would be effective!”
“It was a joke.”
“I do not see anything funny in the comment.”
“No, you wouldn’t…”
“Tick-tock, Captain,” Sherri chided.
“All right, since we can’t outrun them and we can’t out-gun them,” Adam said, “the only option left is to attack.”
“Attack!”
“Great idea, Benefis, wish I’d thought of it. Riyad, ready on the cannon. Lila all power to forward shields. Compensators on full. Sherri, execute an escape maneuver. Come about in as tight a circle as we can stand. But make them think we’re running first.”
“Strap in, everyone!” Sherri ordered. “Full acceleration in three…two…one—now!”
Adam shook his head at Sherri’s dramatic dialog, seeing her maneuver was fully absorbed by the compensators aboard the mainship. They were designed to handle the maximum capacity of the ship, so there was no sensation of movement at all on the bridge, just the shifting of starlight in the forward viewport. Even when she pulled back on the stick and brought the Sol-Kor ship into a tight loop back toward the pursuing Hal’ic ships, no one aboard felt even the slightest vibration.
“That was…disappointing,” Riyad whispered. “But we have caught the Hal’ic by surprise. In range in five seconds. Do I really fire on our allies?”
“They will on us. Target their engines.”
“At this vector speed, I’ll be lucky to hit anything as we pass.”
“Even so, do your best not to get too lucky.”
This time the ship did shift slightly as four flash bolts were pumped out of the cannon. The mainship was beyond the shocked pursuers before the first bolts reached target range. There were nine ships after them, but only one bolt found something to strike. It hit a diffusion shield square on, causing no damage.
The squadron of Hal’ic warships attempted to follow. Unfortunately, the inexperienced pilots didn’t execute the turn maneuver in unison. Nearly all of them took independent paths, often steering into the course of another. Shields contacted shields—which they were never designed to do—and fierce, electric tug-of-wars began, as each shield fought to absorb the other. All this did was set up a strong dynamo effect, as power was flipped from one shield to the other in an ever-increasing cycle, with each flip pulling even more energy from the source vessels. The effect tended to meld the shields together, refusing to let the ships separate. Eventually, the buildup became too intense, and both ships exploded in a ball of eerily-shimmering blue light.
This happened with four of the Hal’ic ships. The other five scattered, taking precious minutes to form up again before heading off after Adam and the Sol-Kor mainship.
“The Hal’ic will not be able to blame us for that,” Benefis said, a lack of confidence in his tone.
“We are now ahead of our pursuers—yet still on the Hal’ic side of the battleline,” Lila pointed out.
“Well, I don’t feel like running the gauntlet of the main force, so let’s avoid it. Sherri, steer one-eight-zero, plus ninety. Let’s go vertical and hop over the line. If we can get far enough on the other side, the Hal’ic should hesitate before following, reluctant to trigger the start of the major engagement. Right now, it looks like everyone is just getting dressed up for the coming party. They’ll be ordered to hold and let us go. After all, we’re just one ship out of thirty-thousand.”
“That’s a sobering thought,” Riyad said. “And about seventy thousand Hal’ic. This is going to be one hell of a big battle…and this time the Sol-Kor know exactly what they’re up against.”
“This will be the largest space battle in history,” Adam said. “Fortunately, we can use it to get lost in the confusion and make it to Silana without being noticed. How we doing, Sherri?”
“So far the Hal’ic haven’t sent any other ships after us. We’re about to pass the farthest reaches of the Hal’ic battleline and head toward the Sol-Kor side.”
“May I make a comment?” Lila asked.
“Of course…please do,” Adam prompted. Hopefully his genius daughter would come up with something that would save the day.
“Estimating the losses the Hal’ic have suffered both at J’nae and Kor, plus the anticipated losses resulting from the upcoming battle, the Hal’ic will be down to fifty percent of their original strength after only twelve days of the war. Silana will undoubtedly fall to them, yet there are another six major population centers on this side of the galaxy alone. The Sol-Kor could easily sacrifice all their forces in this region and still have ample reserves to retake all that the Hal’ic will have gained.”
This wasn’t what Adam had been expecting to hear, but he had no doubt Lila’s conclusions were accurate. Instead of saving the day, Lila had just pointed out that the Hal’ic were fighting a losing battle.
“I thought they could at least fight them to stalemate, and then have time to regroup and resupply. But you’re saying that won’t happen?”
“I’m not saying it won’t happen, just that there is no need to let it happen. The Sol-Kor have enough assets to overwhelm the Hal’ic, if they choose to employ such a tactic.”
“And being the mindless flesh-eaters they are, why wouldn’t they?” Sherri added.
“After such a battle,” said Lila, “Sol-Kor population numbers will be reduced. The new queen’s capacity for replacing the dead is greatly diminished compared to the Eternal Queen. There are females now growing within the Sol-Kor Colony, yet they are many years from maturity.”
“Are you saying the Sol-Kor may choose not to waste billions of their Colony, but rather preserve what they have?” Arieel asked of her daughter.
“Placing myself in the mind of the Queen, I would be willing to make the sacrifice in Sol-Kor forces and flesh. The Colony will survive, the enemy will be vanquished, and there will ample time to carry on with my plans to convert the Sol-Kor to more traditional mating and procreating practices. Yet to the general population—an all male population—they may not be so willing, since they do not possess the Queen’s vision.”
“So it all comes back to J’nae—the Queen,” Riyad said. “She is the key to everything.”
“Indeed,” Lila said. “If she were to be neutralized, the Colony would be in a ver
y fragile position. The relatively few females born to date would not be added to, so the growth of the Colony would be greatly restricted. Billions would die off who cannot be replaced. Add to that a very costly war in regards to loss of life, and it would be prudent for the Sol-Kor to petition for peace at the earliest opportunity—should the Queen be removed from the equation.”
“The Hal’ic threatened Panur with a bath of liquid nitrogen,” Adam began. “And the cold of space did render both him—and you—inert, for lack of a better word. That will be our weapon against J’nae.”
“Is there a supply of such liquid aboard the mainship?” Arieel asked.
“Not readily,” Lila answered. “Yet a fair amount of the atmosphere we are breathing contains nitrogen. In fact, nitrogen gas is not a necessary ingredient to super-cooled, liquefied air. It is simply a convenient label. I can devise a liquefying apparatus to achieve our goals. The delivery method should be very straightforward. Bathe the Queen in such liquid, and her outer body will freeze. During that brief period we must place her into a more permanent containment module. I will begin work on all these requirements during our transit to Silana.”
“We still need to find her and then get close enough so she can be sprayed,” Sherri said.
“Exactly,” Adam said. “And that’s why I’m delegating the solution to that problem to you, Ms. Valentine.”
“Bullshit! You ain’t delegating nothing to me, Mr. Cain! You’re the hero around here, not me. I’m just the obnoxious love interest in the story.”
“In that case, we play it by ear. Let’s get us to Silana first—and before the Hal’ic destroy it, like they did Kor. If we can do that, and find the Queen, I’m sure we’re the last people she would expect to see show up at her doorstep.”
Chapter 6
“I assume the Humans—along with your girlfriend, Lila—will be attempting to reach us here on Silana,” J’nae said, staring at the still frozen body of her creator, Panur. “Perhaps I should make it easy on them? But first, let me revive you.”
J’nae hesitated a moment and frowned. She was talking to herself—aloud—something she found herself doing quite often these days—a sign that she had no one else to share her thoughts and feelings? Was that why Panur had elected to take a companion? Fortunately for him, he was able to find one of near-equal intellect. The Queen had no such option—not unless she created one for herself. She shrugged. Panur had created her, so she knew it was possible.
She was confused by the strange emotion she felt. Was it…loneliness?
Carrying the unsettling thought forward, she now understood why Panur sought out other races with which to interact, other than just the Sol-Kor. Even though these foreign races were inferior to him in every way, they still added variety to his life, giving him something to not only study, but also to experience.
Was she reaching that stage in her development? Was she already bored of the Sol-Kor?
J’nae quickly dismissed the possibility. Unlike Panur, she was the leader of the Colony. Whatever variety and stimulation she sought she could find it through them as she guided her people to more exploration, more growth, more invention. Even as the thought raced through her mind, she found it vacuous and unfulfilling when confronted with reality.
Her mood turned even more sour. Whatever the future held for her and the Sol-Kor, it would only happen when this damn Hal’ic war was settled. It was a distraction, and a losing proposition on the part of the Hal’ic, even if they didn’t realize it. As such, J’nae had relegated the conflict to a non-priority status in her mind.
Now she would amend that. The war had become an annoyance, keeping her from exploring all the avenues her position and genius offered, along with the chance to solve other mysteries that were filling her mind.
Such as Panur and his friends. The dynamic between her creator and the Humans was a curiosity to her, one she found stimulating—and enviable—having once had a Human plaything of her own.
Suddenly she had an epiphany, one of such profound insight that many things became abundantly clear.
Her creator, Panur, had himself been created by the Colony in an experimental breeding of the Hal’ic and the Eternal Queen. In his early years, his only option was to learn from the Sol-Kor and experienced life through the Colony, much the same as J’nae had over the past six hundred years. Unfortunately for her—and her creator—absorbing the sum total of all the Sol-Kor had to offer took less than a month to accomplish. The creatures from Kor had no culture, no creativity, no real purpose for living…except to feed. As a result, there were no extensive libraries or advanced research centers from which she could absorb more knowledge. For the mutants, the Sol-Kor were an intellectual dead-end.
Thousands of years ago, Panur had reached this same conclusion, and looked outward, beyond the Sol-Kor and the relatively few worlds they’d reached with their primitive space drive. Beyond the Colony was an expansive and thrilling universe, full of knowledge and intriguing beings. If for no other reason than to learn from them, Panur developed the first gravity drive engines so he could reach this plethora of vibrant species, knowing full well that contact with the Sol-Kor would doom them to eventual extinction.
Panur didn’t care. It took only a short time for him to absorb all the knowledge he desired from these races; afterwards, the harvesters would move in.
The epiphany J’nae had that moment was not that Panur had sought out these alien races for their knowledge. It was the realization that the entire outward migration of the Sol-Kor, along with all the countless species they had consumed over the past five millennia, were a direct result of Panur’s unquenchable thirst for knowledge…at any cost. More than the Eternal Queen herself, it was Panur who was responsible for what the Sol-Kor had become, along with all the death and destruction they’d wrought.
That was what he meant when he’d said she was but a child. No super-being capable of incredible learning could ever advance much beyond childhood if they relied solely on what they could learn from the Sol-Kor. More and varied contacts were needed, and this took time and opportunity to accomplish. Panur made that possible—for himself. Unfortunately, J’nae had no such opportunity, not without venturing out among the stars on a long, individual sojourn of discovery.
As the leader of the Colony, that would not be possible. And if not, then she would be forever an underachieving genius, lacking not in ability, but experience.
Her thoughts both saddened and angered her. How was she to overcome this handicap? If she didn’t figure a way, then Panur—and even his female friend, Lila—would continue to be superior to her. That she could not accept.
Then her spirits rebounded!
“There is an entire world of Humans!” she said, aloud. The Humans had intrigued Panur more than any other race he’d encountered. Now J’nae grew excited imagining what joy she could have playing puppet master to billions of Adam Cains. What knowledge she could acquire!
Though she—as Queen—could not leave her responsibilities for long, she could indulge her need for experience by being selective with her encounters. What better race to begin with than the Humans? With the means to transit universes at will using the prototype starship in her possession, she would journey directly to Earth and begin her advance training immediately upon resolution of the Hal’ic annoyance.
As an immortal, mutant genius, the need for stimulation and challenge was a constant, and a planet full of unpredictable and emotional Humans was just what she needed to overcome the deficit she now acknowledged was real.
Once again, her creator had been right.
********
High Noslead Gorvus had followed J’nae’s instructions to the letter and built a containment chamber to hold Panur. It was made of six-inch thick reinforced plastic, with a series of injection jets that could fill the interior with liquid nitrogen in under a second. A simple bed, chair, and table had been moved inside—that was all Panur required. The Queen then placed a chair and table o
n the opposite side of the wall from Panur’s; she knew there would be many long hours of conversation between them.
The small box containing the frozen body of her creator was moved inside the room and the containment controls turned off. He would thaw on his own. In the meantime, J’nae went to where the Human starship Panur which had converted into a trans-dimensional vessel was stored, to study its construction and learn its secrets.
It was frustrating for a creature of her intelligence to not fully comprehend an invention. It wasn’t that the technology was beyond her grasp, it was just that she had never come in contact with some of it. Knowledge was not absorbed out of thin air, it came from research, experience, and deductive reasoning.
So J’nae began her examination of the Panur TD-drive by removing the exterior panels to the generators in the twin engine rooms. She recognized most of the systems and equipment, even though some were alien even to her.
Of course Panur had left no operating instructions in the ship’s database. He didn’t need to.
So began her long and arduous process of reverse engineering. She did this knowing what the TD-drive accomplished and then traced it backwards to figure out how it did what it did. If a component was located here and connected to this, then it would have to produce…what effect? That would mean it must do such-and-such, which could only be achieved by…this means. For a normal intellect, this process could take years—if ever—to figure out. For J’nae, she was beginning to see the light after only six hours of work.
But then she got the call that Panur was awake.
********
The four-foot-tall alien, dressed in a dark blue tunic, was seated at the table and displaying a sly smile. He watched in silence as J’nae entered the containment room and sat in a chair on the other side of the thick plastic wall.
“Are you feeling proud of yourself?” he asked once J’nae was settled in.
“In a way,” J’nae admitted. “You are a powerful being, and I managed to capture and constrain you. That should warrant some admiration.”