Cain's Crusaders

by T. R. Harris

  He was still alive, and that meant so was Arieel. Chalk another one up for superior Human physiology. Apparently the tranquilizer in the dart wasn’t strong enough to keep Adam out for very long.

  He struggled to roll to his right, and from there he could see the low-lying bed with a small figure dressed in an ill-fitting grey jumpsuit resting peacefully. He pulled with his arms, dragging his body to the edge of the bed, and then with rubber legs pushed and pulled until he had reached the top.

  As his body fell heavily on the smaller figure, Adam could hear a slight moan forced from Arieel lips. Feeling and strength was now gaining rapidly in his body and his superman physiology fought to overcome the effects of the drug. He propped himself on one elbow and used his other hand to slap Arieel gently on the cheek.

  “Arieel, wake up!” he cried out. He slapped her again, harder. This time her eyes lids closed a little tighter and her head shook. One more slap and Arieel’s eyes began to flutter open.

  “Wake up, god-dammit!” Adam yelled. He could now feel most of his body and so he sat up on the bed and grabbed Arieel by the shoulders. He shook her violently. “Wake up! Wake up!”

  Arieel’s eyes began to show signs of recognition, as trails of saliva flowed down her chin. “Adam?” she said weakly. “Are you now with my spirit energy?”

  “No, but that could happen at any time. Get up; we still have time to get you to the Throne Room.”

  She let out a long sigh and then closed her eyes again. “I wish to join my mothers among the essence. You go without me.”

  “Hell no!” Adam said, now struggling to lift her inert body off the bed. Normally, this would not have been a problem, but in his drugged state, she felt as heavy as an elephant. “I not leaving you! We’re going to the Throne Room – now!”

  His strength was increasing by the second and soon he had her off the bed and in his arms. He fell against the wall next to the rectory door and then regained his balance. Holding Arieel against the door, he felt with his hand for the latch and pulled it open. He stepped out into the stone corridor, one of many throughout the Temple. He had no idea where to go.

  Propping Arieel’s head up with his right arm, he shook her awake again. She frowned hard, but her eyes opened. “Where is the Throne Room from here?”

  “Where is here?” Arieel asked through her stupor. Adam had no answer. But then he noticed a marker above a door across the corridor from the rectory. It was in Formilian writing – of which he had no idea how to read – but above it was a symbol, a triangle.

  Adam turned Arieel so she could see the symbol. “Oh,” she called out, almost drunk in her manners. “We are in the Celebrant quarters. Scandalous!”

  “Where is the Throne Room from here?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “No I don’t. Please concentrate. Where is the Throne Room from here?”

  “Down there,” she said, her right arm now flailing away, indicating to Adam’s left. He took off running.

  Arieel’s eyes grew wide and smile crossed her face. “This is fun, like riding a downing steed,” she said. “Run my steed! Run!”

  Adam soon came to another long and wider corridor connecting on his right. “Through here, is this the way to the Throne Room?”

  “Yes, my steed. Down there at your fastest gait.”

  Adam obeyed, running as fast as he could, while still wobbling from one side of the corridor to the other as he went as the effects of the drug still lingered. The hallway was long, with many offshoots, any of which could be the entrance to the Throne Room.

  “Oh … you passed it,” Arieel said, trying to crawl into his back and pointing. He turned around and approached the wide double doorway made of heavy wood of some kind.

  “Here? This is the Throne Room?”

  “Yes Adam Cain – my hero.” Arieel’s brow suddenly furrowed. “My head hurts.”

  “We’re almost there, Arieel. We’re going to make it.”

  Adam kicked at the door, surprised that only one swift kick was all it took to force open the massive doors. Beyond was a vast chamber lined with towering columns of polished stone and a ceiling easily fifty feet above. The room was full of beings, many dressed in mustard yellow, others in suits or flowing robes.

  A hush fell over the room as the doors came crashing open and all eyes fell on Adam holding Arieel in his arms. This was not the main entrance to the Throne Room, but a side entrance. And there, off to his left, he saw the throne, an elevated chair sitting on a series of stone blocks. He took off for it.

  To his surprise, many of the mustard-garbed Celebrants began to scream and pull on the other non-Order dignitaries, leading them away from Adam and Arieel. Soon a mad panic ensued, as the crowd rushed for the exit at the opposite end of the room from the throne.

  Adam didn’t care, he had the throne in his sights and that was all that mattered.

  And then he spotted it. On the wall to his right was a digital clock, looking out of place in the medieval look of the rest of the Temple. It was a simple device, with only a single row of white numbers on a black background.

  And the number read six, then five, then four….

  The throne was still fifty feet away or more. Three …, two….

  He wasn’t going to make it. Adam slid to his knees and pulled Arieel close. “You didn’t leave,” he heard her whisper in his ear.

  And then he closed his own eyes tight.

  One…, zero….

  Then nothing….

  Adam opened his eyes again and looked at the clock. It had reset to a new twenty-eight day cycle. And yet they were both still alive.

  Arieel was now coming more to her senses. She stretched her neck until she, too, could see the clock. Adam spun her around until she had a more comfortable vantage point.

  The two of them watched the clock wind down another five full minutes before saying anything. Then Arieel looked in his eyes, a dreamy, soft look. “You could have left me and run to safety. Why didn’t you?”

  Thinking that this was something out of a sappy chick flick, Adam just smiled. “We’ve come this far, my Lady. I couldn’t leave you alone now.”

  Then Arieel’s eyes grew wide. “And still we live!”

  “That’s the conclusion I came to as well,” he said.

  And then Arieel grasped his head by her arms and kissed him passionately. He didn’t know what it was – either the fullness of her lips or that thing she could do with static electricity – but Adam truly felt sparks fly as she pressed her lips against his. They held the kiss for what seemed like an eternity until finally they broke and came up for air.

  “So what happened – or more appropriately – what didn’t happen?”

  “I’ll answer that!”

  Adam and Arieel were both so exhausted and overwhelmed with the entire event that neither one was startled as the other person in the room spoke. It was the High Celebrant Convor Ton’al Ona, Arieel’s father, standing near the throne, his arm resting on one of its ornate sides.

  Adam rose to his feet and helped Arieel stand. Her legs were stronger now, the effects of the tranquilizer now nearly completely gone. She did her best to run to Convor, but instead approached at a brisk, yet drunken-like walk. Convor moved to meet her.

  Father and daughter embraced at the front of the throne, tears flowing down both their cheeks. Adam held back a respectful distance until Convor took notice of him and motioned for him to come near.

  He shook Adam’s hand emphatically. “Thank you so very much, Mr. Cain for returning my daughter – our Speaker – to us. It has been a truly amazing feat which you have accomplished.”

  “Thank you, Celebrant,” Adam said, a frown now plastered on his face. “But what happened? Why didn’t she explode? Was just being in the Throne Room enough to deactivate the bomb?”

  “Oh no, Mr. Cain, it was not – is not,” Convor said. “In truth, we should get you up here Arieel so as to perform the ritual.”

  Convor helped
Arieel’s still uncertain legs climb the three steps to the throne. She sat down, looking confused at her father.

  “Is there a bomb or not?” she asked, anger beginning to grow in her tone.

  “Yes, there is, my Speaker. That part is true. What has varied is the time at which the bomb is set to explode.”

  Adam stepped closer to Convor, his own anger growing by the second. “What do you mean? When was the bomb scheduled to explode?”

  “All official Order records of the device indicate it is to explode at exactly the moment of the Rites Ceremony. Yet only the very highest of the Order know that there is in reality a six hour delay built into the program.”

  “You mean we had another six hours to get here?” Adam was livid. He pulled back to strike Convor but then hesitated. He knew that in the past he had been able to drive his fist completely through the skulls of various aliens, and killing the High Celebrant – and Arieel’s father – would certainly not go over very well, especially not right in the middle of their most-sacred Temple.

  “That is correct, Mr. Cain. There is an additional six hours attached to the deadline.”

  “Why?” Arieel asked.

  “So what just happened can be allowed to happen,” Convor said, with a sparkle in his eye.

  “You’re losing me, Convor. Stop playing games and just spit it out.”

  Convor and Arieel both frowned at him as the translator fought to find the right context for his words. Finally, Convor nodded. “If everyone believes the device will explode at a certain time, then all who know of this will clear the area prior to the detonation, leaving Arieel, and all the prior Speakers, alone … and with an opportunity to escape. Even the dead body of the Speaker would still explode at the given time, so killing her to prevent the detonation would not work. And, of course, the device is tamper proof. No, the only way to prevent a detonation is to place the Speaker upon the Throne at the time of the Rites Ceremony – or in this case – within six hours of the ceremony. Then the device resets. Because those who meant you harm, my daughter, believed the device would go off at the known time, they left you and Mr. Cain alone, allowing you both to escape. I would say the creators of the device, over two thousand years before, have planned well for this very event.”

  “Yet it is another thing you did not tell me, father!”

  “Again, my Speaker, it was for your own good.”

  Convor then took Arieel by the hand and helped her off the throne. “We must now prepare you for an announcement. We must let the galaxy know that you still live, and that the time of the reward has passed without collection.”

  “What of this Ryfor guy?” Adam asked. “He helped McCarthy with everything.”

  “We have apprehended the young Ryfor, along with his accomplices. There have been vids cameras placed throughout the Temple. We have evidence of him perpetrating the crime against the Speaker.”

  “You had him on camera, yet you didn’t come to get us?”

  “The cameras are not in the rectory rooms. Those are private. But we do have them in the corridors and other public chambers.”

  “Come Arieel. Besides a change of clothes, it also appears we must also find you a wig to wear. Even though you are as fetching as ever, your public will be expecting the look of the old Speaker. Please remain, Mr. Cain. I and the Order owe you an incredible debt of gratitude. We wish to discuss the honors we will bestow on you.”

  Adam watched silently as Convor led Arieel out of the Throne Room and through yet another set of side doors. Just before Arieel disappeared, she turned to look back at him, a look of sorrow in her eyes. Adam nodded back with a small smile.

  So much for that, he thought. And then his jaw grew tight. And now Convor is about to learn what I really want in return for all my efforts!

  Chapter 18

  It wasn’t until a full seven hours later that Convor had the time to meet with Adam again. Over that time, Arieel had gone before the cameras to announce her survival and a brief description of her ordeal. She went on to chastise many of the Coalition who joined in the hunt for her and Adam, calling it a betrayal of Mislin and Sufor. She conjured up a few static balls and manipulated a few lights … as a warning. Then she disappeared again, to be hidden from the public behind an even thicker wall of security and separation from the universe at large.

  Adam was brought into the private office of the High Celebrant, who rose from his chair and came around the desk to greet him warmly. “Here is our hero,” he said to the other Formilian in the room, his senior Second, Trimen Ona For. “I am sorry it has taken us so long to meet again, but you can imagine all the tasks to be achieved after such a harrowing twenty-eight days.”

  “I sure do. Remember, I was there for most of it.”

  “Of course you were, Mr. Cain. As I have said many times before, you have exceeded your charter. Now we wish to speak of honoring you, of celebrating your achievements so all can share in our awe and wonder. On a personal note, what do you wish from us? You seemed very impressed with the amount of the reward we paid for Arieel’s return. That same amount will be yours, or even more, if you so desire.”

  Adam took a chair in front of Convor’s desk and sat down, crossing his legs and smiling back at Convor, and then over at Trimen as well, who sat in a large padded chair to the left of the desk. “First of all, let me start by saying you have a remarkable daughter there, Convor. She really stepped up when needed.”

  “My thanks, Mr. Cain,” Convor said proudly.

  “Now I’d like to ask the two of you a question: Do either of you know what a data packet is?”

  Convor frowned and then looked over at Trimen. As a scientist, Trimen nodded. “It is a bundle of information that is stored within a device and designed to be uploaded at a future date. It is used for advanced planning and coordination, so an operator does not have to be present when an automated event takes place.”

  Adam smiled. “Exactly! I would like the two of you to know that while returning to Formil, I placed a data packet into the Library, scheduled to be uploaded thirty days from now, unless I enter the code to stop it.”

  Convor looked confused. “I don’t see what this has to do with your honor and reward. What information does this date pack contain?”

  Adam paused for effect before continuing. “It contains a complete history of the events that have just taken place – including the fact that Arieel Bol carries within her body an artificial device which allows her to manipulate electronic devices, not by supernatural means, but by simple remote control of these devices. It goes on to detail the fraud you and the Order have perpetrated on the people of Formil, as well as the entire Coalition, in making the Speakers out to be demi-gods, when in fact they are mere mortals using technology to create lightshows designed to deceive.”

  Adam was surprised he could actually remember the speech he’d been practicing for days now, but he was doing a fairly accurate job. He now sat, waiting for the reaction from the two Formilian religious leaders.

  It was Trimen who spoke first. “Why would you do such a thing? You have just risked your life to save the very icon you say is a fraud against her people. But I assure you, Mr. Cain, she is no fraud.”

  “You may not consider her one, but those outside your Order surely will. You have placed this mystic worship quality on a basic force of nature, and then made Arieel, and the other Speakers, out to be conduits to this magical power. As a scientist, you must know how wrong you are.”

  “We are not wrong!” Convor shouted. “The knowledge to build the devices we build is a gift from our gods.”

  “And yet other races on thousands of worlds can also create and build similar devices, without this so-called guidance from the gods.”

  “How do you know they are not guided, even if they are not aware?”

  “I’m not going to play these metaphysical mind games with the two of you. I have come to tell you that your secret will be revealed in thirty days.”

  “But who w
ould believe you without evidence?”

  “They won’t need evidence. Just making the accusation will be enough to start the ball rolling – to raise suspicion. And remember, I’m a god-damn hero. Why wouldn’t they believe me now that I’ve been let into your inner circle?”

  “Yet even if what you say is false and others believe you, it will destroy our very social and cultural foundation. The Coalition will fall apart without belief in the Speaker. And the Omphly, they will then have no fear and will attack immediately—”

  “And without a Coalition to help defend you, Formil will be fall and your race will become extinct,” Adam added.

  Convor and Trimen stared at Adam for a long moment, stunned into disbelief and at a loss as to what more they could say.

  Adam stepped into the silence. “As I said, the data packet will be uploaded into the Library in thirty days, an event that will spread this information throughout the galaxy … unless.”

  Both Formilians leaned forward and jumped on Adam’s last word. “Unless what?” said asked in unison.

  Adam smiled, thinking that their two voices actually harmonized quite nicely. If ever this Celebrant-gig didn’t work out, they could make it is a singing duo.

  “Unless … you also fit me with one of these super-duper mind-reading devices just like Arieel’s.”

  The look of shock on the faces of the two aliens was priceless. Their already dark skin turned several shades darker and Adam honestly thought Convor was going to have a heart attack.

  “That’s impossible!” Trimen stated. “Only Speakers have the Gift. And only females. And only Formilians. There are so many reasons why this is impossible.”

  “However, you will implant one of these devices in me within thirty days or the data packet will be released. It’s as simple as that. Those are my terms: Either comply … or your entire civilization will collapse with the truth. It seems like a rather easy decision to me.”