by T. R. Harris
So why should it concern Adam? He was sure there were plenty of isolated places within the growing Human Empire where he and Sherri could find some peace and quiet.
At least for a while….
But Adam also knew himself well enough to know he was not the type of person who could remain still for very long, even if his current crop of adventures had grown somewhat dull and predictable: land on a planet, find the local bully, and then show him who’s boss.
Was it that Adam sought greater challenges, greater villains? As he wandered the quiet corridors of the Phoenix, alone in his thoughts, he wondered just what kind of person was he? Was he such a cliché as to be part of the classic yin-yang equation? Could he not exist without an equal and countering evil to fight against, and if so, wouldn’t this make him an accomplice to such evil, allowing it to exist just to give meaning to his own life?
Or was he just getting bored with playing superman?
“Thanks, Sherri, thanks a lot!” he announced to the empty corridor. “You sure know how to screw with a guy’s head. You couldn’t be content with just keeping all this crap to yourself? No, you won’t be happy until I’m just as screwed up as you are.”
Chapter 8
Adam entered the Formilian star system on his fourth day out from Pyrum. The planet was located in your typical Class-M star system – as they would call it in a Star Trek episode – with eleven major planets and thousands of moons and comets, along with two very thin asteroid belts.
Formil was located right in the middle of the system’s habitable zone, occupying the third spot out from their sun. Most habitable planets were found in the second to fourth positions, where the rock-core worlds were more apt to form. This location also seemed to stabilize time reference within the Expansion as well.
Rotational velocity of these rocky worlds, located within a specific distance from their star, tended to range from twenty-two hours to as high as thirty. Any slower and the temperature variations between night and day would be too drastic for substantial life to take hold. Any faster and the rapid changes would be just as erratic. So days within the Expansion, as measured against the Juirean-standard, equated to 24.2 Earth-hours, and were nearly identical to most other inhabited worlds throughout the galaxy.
The measure of years also followed this pattern, with Expansion-standard orbital time – also measured against Juir – to be only slightly longer than an Earth-year at 370 days.
The bulk of star systems throughout the galaxy followed this pattern, even though about half of them were double or triple star systems, with incredibly large gas giants – many several times the size of Jupiter – occupying the inner regions of the system traditional reserved for these rocky planets. Even still, this left millions of systems with small, rocky worlds which harbored life. The surprising thing for Adam, however, was how intelligent life appeared to be more-prominent on worlds with slightly less gravity than Earth. He found this to be strange, since on his homeworld life was incredibly abundant and resilient.
Formil was a world with about three-quarters the gravity of Earth, even though it was essentially the same size. The lower density of the planet caused the gravity variation, and placed Formil right in the middle of the galactic standard for worlds with a population of Primes – the universal designation for carbon-based, bi-pedal mammals who had evolved to dominate their worlds. The galaxy boasted a whole variety of more exotic life forms, based on a surprising mixture of chemical cocktails, yet none of these other creatures had been found capable of building advanced tools, shelters or machinery. That distinction was reserved to the Primes, and as far as prowess with the ubiquitous force of nature called Electricity, none were more advanced than the Formilians.
As would be expected from such an advanced race, the planet Formil was very well organized, maintained and managed. There were millions of settlements scattered across its surface, each resembling Adam’s vision of a George Jetson reality – however, still with no flying hovercraft! Even though the gravity drive had opened up the galaxy to all, it was simply impractical – and dangerous – to employ such technology in simple planetary-based transportation. So even on Formil, wheeled and winged craft still ruled.
The Temple of the Order of Light was located in the capital city of Vull, and dominated the northern section, pre-dating the city itself by over five-hundred years. Vull had come into existence to service the various needs of the Celebrants – the priests who comprised the Order – and of The Speaker herself. It was modern city, well-kept and laid out in a logical, grid-like pattern.
The Temple Complex, however, was another story. Appearing to have been built at a time of stone construction and ornate opulence, the hundreds of buildings making up the compound looked more like something out of ancient Rome rather than on alien world twenty-thousand light years from Earth. The contrast been Vull and the Temple Complex was stark, yet the tall, white walls of the compound wall served to clearly define the secular from the religious parts of the city.
Adam was met at the extremely large spaceport outside the complex walls and driven by a plush transport into the maze of towering temples, agoras and balconied apartments that made up the bulk of the compound. He gawked at the elaborate carvings and adornments that were everywhere. And every building, every walkway, every street was spotless, almost to the point of appearing sterile.
There were also people everywhere, many wearing full gowns of a soft mustard color. Even though by themselves the gowns would have looked hideous, against the rich, warm hue of the tanned Formilians, the color worked.
And that was another thing that struck Adam about Formil – the absolute beauty of the Formilian people. Until now, the only Formilian he’d seen had been the naked image of Arieel Bol, the Speaker – and that had been impressive enough. Now he found that most Formilians were just as gorgeous, even the men. Though he admitted that Arieel was an exceptional specimen – even among the crop of the most-stunning creatures he’d ever seen – most of the other females he saw on the street would classify as Greek goddesses in their own right.
Adam knew that if the other men in his unit had joined him on the mission, he would have had a hard time convincing them to return to Pyrum, low gravity or not. Some things were just worth losing bone mass for, and the females of Formil certainly qualified.
The transport dropped him off at the large, dominating Temple building where he was greeted by a tall, handsome Celebrant named Trimen O’lac For. Trimen explained that he was the Second Celebrant, one of three individuals who carried the title, and that he would be taking Adam to meet with Convor Ton’al Ona, the High Celebrant himself.
The small entourage accompanying Trimen was made up of three females and two males, and Adam had a hard time concentrating when surrounded by beings who could put every Playmate of the Year to crying shame. He was relieved when all but Trimen remained outside the meeting room where the High Celebrant waited.
Convor was tall, tanned and muscular – apparently a natural trait shared by all Formilian males – even though he was approaching sixty-years of age. Usually once one reached the pinnacle of power and prestige, one could dispense with the need to maintain stunningly good looks – besides there often wasn’t time during one’s hectic day to spend in the gym. So the supreme conditioning and beauty of the Formilian people had to be genetic – the lucky bastards.
“It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Adam Cain,” Convor said, approaching Adam with a pleasant smile and an outstretched hand. “Human protocol is for a hand-grasping ceremony,” he said. “I welcome the touching, finding it to be quite the bonding experience.”
Adam and Convor shook hands.
“Even after all the thousands of years, it is stimulating to find that there are still things we can do to improve our ways. I may see about introducing this ritual in our own formal greetings.”
Adam couldn’t help but believe Convor was sincere; there was nothing in his manner that would suggest otherwise. Damn, something
as simple as a handshake, Adam thought. Wonder what else I can do to shake up their society?
“And now, Mr. Cain, I must apologize.” Convor motioned for Adam to have a seat on a wide, extremely soft, yellowish-colored sofa with curving wood armrests.
“For what?” Adam asked as he also took a drink offered by Trimen.
“It appears as though our crisis will soon be over and that your services will no longer be required.”
“You’ve recovered Arieel – I mean the Speaker?”
“Not quite yet, but we did receive a demand for credits in exchange for her safe return.”
So there had been a ransom demand; that would exonerate the Omphly and reduce the chance of war.
“Has Kroekus been informed? He will be very relieved to know this.”
“The message just came in a few hours ago. We have been analyzing it for authenticity and to see if the demands are agreeable. It appears both are now verified. I will be sending a link to Administrator Kroekus very soon.”
“He was afraid there might be a war if the Speaker was not found and returned unharmed.”
Convor nodded, removing the smile from his face. “That was our fear as well. Needless to say, we are all very relieved. Even though a demand of credits to culminate such a horrendous event is beyond the pale, we welcome it. We had no desire to go to war – with anyone.”
“So when does the exchange take place?” Adam asked. “Since I’m here, I might as well assist in any way I can. My official training has been in the rescue and extraction of hostages and other captives. I might have something I can contribute.”
Convor raised his eyebrows and looked over at Trimen. They both appeared to be very pleased.
“I am quite impressed, Mr. Cain,” said Convor, returning his attention to Adam. “I am well aware of your background and of your accomplishments however I was not aware of this particular specialty. You are quite the unique individual.”
Yeah, I’m hot shit – you god-damn Greek god, Adam thought. In reality, this was great news. Now he wouldn’t be under any deadline to achieve the impossible … and maybe now he could catch up with Sherri on Belson….
“We would of course welcome your input,” Convor was saying. His demeanor changed slightly, to one of nervous concern. “We are completely new to this concept of credits for the return of a dignitary, and we do have the time constraints to consider.”
“Yes, I am aware of the explosive device, Celebrant Convor.”
“Yes, we did authorize release of this information to Administrator Kroekus. The timing for the exchange is the only concern we now have.”
“Please explain.”
“There are only fifteen days left for the Speaker to be returned to the Temple for rites. The demand is for thirty-million credits, which is of no concern to us. It is only that the exchange must take place on a planet called Uniss-3, and it will take a ship from Formil six days just to reach Uniss and then another six to return. Any delays … and it could prove tragic.”
Adam moved to the edge of the sofa, concerned over what he had just heard. “Forgive me, Celebrant Convor, but isn’t thirty-million credits a pretty low price to pay for the return of your Supreme Celebrant?”
Convor frowned. “It was our belief that the amount was a blessing. Yes, it is very little compared to the treasury of the Order and for the importance of the Speaker, yet you make it sound as if it is too low.”
“It’s just that from my experience, ransom demands – ransom being the amount of credits paid in such cases – is usually directly related to the importance of the subject.”
“I understand, Mr. Cain. If the abductors had asked for a billion credits, we would have gladly paid it, but they did not ask for that amount.”
“That’s my point – why didn’t they?”
Convor and Trimen both look puzzled. Their complete lack of experience on this subject left them without a point of reference. “I do not see your concern,” Convor said. “We will pay whatever ransom they demand; it is that simple.”
Adam decided to let the subject drop. It would be hard for him to prove a negative to the aliens; they just had no understanding of the concept of a kidnap and ransom demand. He decided to move on to another subject.
“I know the timing for the return of the Speaker is now your most critical concern, and I might be able to help with the delivery of the ransom. My ship is capable of velocities faster than any you have. If your ship will take six days, I can do it in three. Three there, three back, and we’ll still have plenty of time before the deadline expires.”
Besides, I don’t think I trust these kidnappers. Something seems out of place. And if the kidnappers reneged on the return of Arieel, then there could still be war. He would feel better being in control of the situation.
“You would volunteer to do that?” Convor said, visibly excited. “This would be above and beyond your charter, Mr. Cain. And if what you say is possible, then the sooner we recover the Speaker, the sooner we can all put this tragic event behind us.”
“When will the credits be ready?”
“They already are. As you have intimated, thirty-million credits is a very small amount to accumulate.” At that point, Convor reached into a pocket of his mustard-colored gown and pulled out a stack of deep purple Expansion credit chips and placed them on a small table in front of the sofa.
Adam leaned in closer to look at the credits; he’d never seen purple ones before.
“Is that all of them?” he blurted out.
“They are five-million-credit chips. That is the largest denomination made.” Trimen said, speaking for the first time since entering the room.
“That’s why I didn’t recognize them!” Adam said with a wide grin. He reached over and picked up the small stack of six chips. When he thought about it, thirty-million credits was a lot of money. Each one of these purple chips could purchase a Class-5 starship, capable of traversing the galaxy. When put into perspective like that, maybe the ransom demand wasn’t as low as Adam thought. However, the Formilians did just admit they would have paid a billion. Hell, with that much Adam could almost buy an entire planet. Of course, it wouldn’t be in the best neighborhood, or with the best schools….
Adam was quickly briefed as to the location of the ransom drop and the procedures they had been instructed to follow, then he and Trimen headed back to Adam’s ship.
The more he thought about his upcoming trip, the more excited Adam became. A little six-day jaunt – three there, three back – and with the last leg of the journey in the company of a 16-year-old anime-artist’s vision of the ultimate wet-dream. Humm, what would he and the stunningly beautiful Arieel talk about during the trip back, for three whole days, and with no one else around?
His fantasy was brought down to reality when Trimen began to brief him about the Speaker.
“We know that Arieel Bol was drugged and unconscious when she was taken,” he said. “The only way she could have remained contained from that moment until now is if she has been kept constantly sedated.”
“Or they’ve killed her. Sorry, I had to say it. Have you had any proof of life – did you verify that she’s still alive?”
“We did not request it, but a time-stamped vid accompanied the credits demand, along with a verification of her genetic markers. As of four hours ago, she was still alive.” Trimen became very serious then. “If she no longer lives, then of course do not pay the credits.”
The Formilian hesitated before continuing. He looked Adam in the eyes, a sadness deep within them. “I have read your history, Adam Cain; you are a remarkable creature with a very unique set of deadly skills. I would hope that if the Speaker no longer lives that you would see fit to begin the process of seeking retribution for this act. It may not be much, but it will be a start.”
“I understand,” Adam said. “I’ll do what I can.” He knew what Trimen meant – more head-bashing and a high body count.
“As you have suspected, if the Sp
eaker perishes, then a conflict will undoubtedly begin,” Trimen continued. “Even though the Coalition is much smaller than the Federation, we do possess superior technology, if not the weapons of war. However, we do have considerable wealth with which to purchase the weapons we will need. We may not wait to be attacked, Adam Cain. To do so would not be prudent.”
“That has been the thinking of the Administrator as well. Even though I now believe that it wasn’t the Omphly who kidnapped your Speaker, I do think they’ll use her death to gather the courage to attack.”
“What is kidnapped?”
“It means to be taken, abducted.”
“And yet the translator reveals kid to mean youngling. Does it happen so often on your world that a youngling is taken that you have a separate word for the event?”
“Unfortunately, it does,” Adam answered solemnly. “But kidnapping also refers to the taking of adults.”
Trimen seemed to be very troubled with the revelation; Adam felt embarrassed for his race. Here he was describing something so horrendous, so obscene, and to an alien who had no understanding of even the basic concept.
“I must warn you now about the Speaker – about Arieel Bol – as a person,” Trimen said, changing the subject … much to Adam’s relief.
“Go on. What’s she like, I mean when she’s not all drugged up?”
“That is why I must warn you. If you are successful in recovering her, then eventually the drugs will wear off and you will have to contend with her as – well – as she is.”
“I don’t think I like the sound of that.” Adam flashed his most sincere smile.
Trimen’s expression remained dour. “You must understand that Arieel Bol is the 4,316th Speaker—”