Farnham's Legend: The beginning of the X-Universe saga (X Games Book 1)

by Helge T. Kautz

  "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

  The huge production facility had practically ceased to exist. An enormous fireball rose where it had been only seconds previously. Large chunks of the structure tumbled and rolled from the epicentre. Blazing Xenon ships careened helplessly through space but he had no time to gloat.

  "Battle Alert!" Valerie stated. The X was now heading for the middle of a huge fleet of incoming Xenon that had been sent to the rescue of their production facility. Evidently not having made it in time, the surviving defenders turned on the X, firing every available weapon. Then she was amongst them, and through their formation, and in a fraction of a second many kilometres behind them, so many, in fact that her shields didn't have to take too great a punishment. Even if the Xenon were to turn around now, they'd have no chance to catch up.

  The only problem was – and he had to spell it out for himself despite all feeling of triumph – he was now heading deeper into Xenon space instead of towards Commonwealth controlled sectors.

  "Valerie, I need a galaxy map."

  The computer displayed it onto the HUD without comment.

  He'd entered Terraformer territory from the Argon sector, President's End. His new course would take him through hostile Xenon sectors, bringing him to the Split system of Thuruk's Beard, in approximately two and one half days, or as Valerie helpfully corrected, they'd reach safety in two days, nine hours and fourteen minutes. If the X wasn't taken down by some Xenon after all, that is.

  Safety. Kyle wondered if that was the right word. As dangerous as the Xenon were, they were soulless machines, devoid of feeling. The Split on the other hand might lag behind them technologically but they had the fire of consciousness and a burning instinct to achieve their goals at any cost. They'd failed to ensnare him before, he wasn't sure they'd let such a dishonour repeat itself.

  Not at all sure. Not sure indeed.

  CHAPTER 43

  If I were to name one thing that truly cloys me, mylord, it would be the prospect of giving birth to your son, just to be rewarded with death. You, mylord, are leading our proud people back into a time of barbarianism. Kill me; take my life and that of my unborn son, for he shouldn't have to grow up in a world such as that.

  Ghinn t'Whht

  Excerpt from a letter to the Patriarch

  Ghinn t'Whht sank back in her granite chair, pondering the words she had just written. The blood of the Ghok was still wet, contrasting beautifully with the space-fly's wing that was shimmering in all colours of the rainbow. Ghinn, the Patriarch's sevenths bonds wife, felt her shins start rippling with melancholy. She rubbed the palms of her hands against them to make the feeling go away. Chin certainly was a good Patriarch, in a manner of speaking, - but he wasn't a good man. She'd much rather have renounced herself of the questionable privilege of being the Patriarch's bonds wife. Instead, she'd have preferred to marry a Split like Cho t'Nnt, who might perhaps be a firebrand but at the very least didn't stand in the way of the species' evolution.

  One thing was for sure: Chin would disregard her plea; probably even ignore the letter as a whole. Of course, he'd go into a state of raging wrath over it. But Ghinn knew perfectly well that the Patriarch wouldn't allow himself to harm his unborn son; not for any reason in the world he would. However, having told him her opinion this straightforwardly filled her with some sort of grim satisfaction. The physicians had estimated another three Mazuras until she'd give birth; enough time, then, to enjoy the hate radiating from the corner of the Patriarch's eyes. To rejoice in it anew every single Tazura, compensating her in advance for all that which might be done to her after the child was born.

  *

  The humans and his people had much more in common then would be healthy for a Split to admit, Cho t'Nnt thought. They formed intrigue, plotted insurrection and looked at the universe with cynical eyes. A pity, though, that they weren't able to draw the right conclusions from all of this! Cho, standing next to the Patriarch on the throne pedestal, was watching the AP Rhonda Crave on the view screen. The ship would set down on the landing pad in a few Mizuras, delivering a delegation of Argon diplomats. Naturally, there wasn't much to discuss, since the Split were the only people in the Commonwealth of Planets who had a non-aggression pact with the Xenon – that is, they had had one, until the arrival of the jump ship. Nevertheless, the Patriarch had decided to grant the humans an audience and listen to whatever they had to say. There were rumours they had found a sure-fire way to decimate the machine race somehow. It would be ideal if that could be accomplished in such a way that the Xenon wouldn't suspect the Split of partaking. A better solution to all of the current problems was hardly imaginable!

  "Cho – I want him to receive the Argons and bring them here. He is going to be respectful unto them as long as we haven't learned all about their security precautions. He is going to carefully check the circumstances of their presence. Did they release a surveillance satellite? Do the creatures carry covert weapons or communications devices? I expect a full report immediately after their ship's touch down." The patriarch waved his hand. "He may go."

  Cho formed the sign for obedient execution of orders and left the hall quickly through the unofficial access behind the throne. On his way out he met Ghinn t'Whht coming in; the Patriarch's bonds wife displayed a strange and bitter expression on her face. In fact, she didn't even bother to give him a few words of kind attention, as she usually did.

  "Whi!" said the Patriarch, after Cho had left and his bonds wife had taken her rightful place next to the throne.

  The aging, one-eyed Split looked at his master expressionlessly. There wasn't so much as a hint of the old foe-friendship between him and the Patriarch. Enmity was all there was left. The Patriarch of all Split had made improper use of his powers to prevent him, Whi, from partaking in his clan's politics for too long. Consequently, a young Split had just taken over the family in a single strike – a completely bloodless one at that! Now, the family's name wasn't Whi any longer, but Njy instead. And he himself, Whi t'Rllt, had to live the remainder of his life devoid of honour. "Yes, mylord?" he replied coldly.

  "He will have a message coded for the machines. We're offering information about the human's strategy in exchange for extended cooperation."

  Whi made an affirmative gesture. Secretly, however, he doubted that this would be the best course of action at this point in time.

  "He may go", Chin said to Whi, who seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a Sezura. Whi complied. "What does she want from me?" the Patriarch then turned to his wife. There had been a time when he had addressed her more respectfully, but that was long ago.

  The tall, willowy woman, whose pregnancy could still not be seen, produced a small nividium letter casket and handed it over to her master. "Read this as soon as your time permits, mylord", she said in a mysterious tone.

  "What is it?", the Patriarch barked. From the corner of his eyes he saw that the AP Rhonda Crave had just landed. The ship was of middle size: too large for a yawl, but still too small to be meant for long-haul routes. A gangway was now being extended, anchoring itself on the asphalt of the airfield. A group of Argons disembarked from the ship; they looked around cautiously and then Cho and a small guard of honour greeted and received them.

  "Read it when you have time, mylord, then you will know", Ghinn replied curtly. She stood up and made a move for the exit.

  Chin beckoned her to stay, and put the casket on the throne's right armrest, unopened. "I have no time for female balderdash right now. She'll stay here anyhow in case I have lowly errands for her."

  Ghinn hesitated for a couple of Sezuras; when she saw the Patriarch's face darken, she sat down again on the small, granite ridge to the right of the throne. "As you wish, mylord", she complied.

  *

  His freedom wasn't limitless, as he once again was shown quite plainly. And the patience of the Ceos – as progressive and unusual he might be for a Teladi – had it's limits as well. Nopileos could sense the aggravation in the old lizard's voi
ce. He was glad that he didn't have to confront Isemados for real now, and that his was only a recording played back from the message drone that had just been received.

  "Ovum elation and all", the Ceos was just saying, "but your recent behaviour, oh Isemados Sibasomos Nopileos IV, isn't suited to enforce your rehabilitation with the board of directors."

  Nopileos twitched uneasily on his sitting table. The Ceos continued: "You haven't carried out your mission to Kingdom End. You've failed to notify the company of the reception of the Ancients' message."

  "Tssh!" Nopileos hissed abashedly. Could he have anticipated that Inanias would report all his moves and lapses directly to the Ceos? Yes, he could've – well, he had anticipated this, actually, but had somehow kept this from his waking mind.

  "I would have been willing to tolerate all this, oh grandson; the mission to Kingdom End might have waited another wozura or two, because your success at the discovery of the second jump ship was potentially much more profitable. The Ancients on the other hand have waited eons to contact us. Therefore, the information in your on-board computer's memory banks wouldn't have turned sour so easily either. But this final misconduct of yours beggars any description."

  Nopileos sank down even further and tried to make himself small and round like an egg, just as if he intended to melt into the sitting table. The Ceos' red pupils on the video screen were now only as large as needle heads, and his scale plate very green. Nopileos would have liked to say something; to defend himself, explain his motivations – but of course, there was no use arguing with a recording. So he just cowered in the seat, awaiting his grandfather's next words like a sentence.

  "Ianamus Zura", the old lizard growled. "Any one of us knows the meaning of that name! Not only emotionally, but also rather genetically, our species longs for a solution to this ancient mystery! It can't wait. It mustn't be deferred. It is the most important information any Teladi has ever received. The 18 billion you gave away to the Boron pales in comparison."

  "I do know that! But…" Nopileos cried. He jumped up and stood in front of the pilot seat, his right claw reaching well inside the projection of the Ceos face. The image billowed a little. There was no reasonable doubt that Elena actually knew the coordinates – Elena never lied – or at least knew how to calculate them. But she had left him behind on Argon prime, surprised as he was, hysterical, confused, before he was able to gather himself enough to stop her from leaving without handing him the coordinates.

  "I demand of you the following, Nopileos", the Ceos continued. "You will return these coordinates to Company Pride in the quickest possible fashion. There, you will hand over the Nyana's Fortune so she can be examined for traces of the Ancients. Then, you will accompany a diplomatic delegation to Kingdom End to finish your still outstanding mission."

  Nopileos softly fizzled. Surrounded!

  "Your on-board computer has been ordered not to tolerate any further deviations, Nopileos", the Ceos added. "You'll have to learn a lot." Silence fell. Then, after more than a whole Mizura had passed, during which the colour of his scale plate returned to half-way normal, and his pupils grew larger again, the old lizard amended: "And don't you grieve. Even I have made mistakes in my time. Just do what you've been told and everything is going to be alright." With these words, the image faded. The view field remained live for a few more moments, then switched itself off automatically.

  Nopileos sat down again, keeping silent. His claws shivered. "I know what you're thinking now, Inanisas", he said after a while, covering his eyes with his claws. It took him an effort of will to suppress the nervous shivering.

  "I don't actually think, oh Captain Nipoleos. I am merely reacting", the computer countered. "We've got to fly to Nif-Nakh, because only the star warrior Elena Kho knows the key to Ianamus Zura's coordinates."

  Nopileos waggled his ears in affirmation. Secretly he doubted that Elena knew the coordinates by heart, but at least, she'd know how to acquire them. It would be extremely disconcerting to interrupt her diplomatic mission, but it couldn't be helped – Inanias had immediately figured that out.

  "So be it then," sighed Nopileos, eventually giving in to the inevitable. "Set the fastest possible course to Nif-Nakh."

  "This has happened more than two Quazuras ago, oh Captain", the on-board computer replied.

  Nopileos opened his eyes wide. So now he wasn't even the captain of the Nyana's Fortune anymore, but merely a crewmember?

  The first jump-gate approached quickly.

  *

  The diplomatic delegation consisted of special agent Ban Danna, senator Rhoi Morsa, under-state secretary Halga Giller as well as Elena Kho. While en-route to Nif-Nakh, an alarming message from the Argon secret service came in: the argon freighter AP Aladna Hill, the very same that had helped to rescue Kyle from the Paranid and on which Ninu Gardna was serving, had been destroyed by the Split. It was unknown if there were any survivors. The disgust among the four members of the delegation was great after the reception of that message; however, senator Morsa had reminded everyone to listen to reason. He had given to consideration that nothing else could have been expected from the Split and that their mission must not be endangered by mentioning the destruction of the transporter.

  Even though the delegation was received with a certain, cold respectfulness upon disembarking, Elena knew right away that the talks were doomed to failure – already now, before the first word had been spoken. She had seen the expression on Danna's face.

  The patriarch's long white and grey beard in conjunction with the yellowish colour of his skin made him look old and fragile, however, Elena knew he wasn't. In her opinion, Chin t'Thhg was as dangerous as any Xenon – if less predictable.

  "In the name of the government of Argon Prime, we ask for an immediate clarification on the destruction of the AP Aladna Hill!", Danna was just demanding, thereby clearly violating the senator's order. Elena saw Morsa's eyes widen in disbelief.

  "Until now I was under the impression the reason for your presence was a different one", retorted the patriarch snidely. He glared at Danna angrily, while forming an unfamiliar sign directed toward his special representative, who was standing next to the throne. Cho t'Nnt acknowledged his master's sign with a short nod.

  "That is correct", Morsa interjected. "I have to apologize for agent Danna. He is stepping over his responsi…" He fell silent when Danna gave him a sinister look.

  "Our mission would be nothing but decrepit if the very basis of our working together were put in question by hostile acts on part of the Split!", under-state secretary Halga Giller stated quickly to prevent Danna, whose character she knew quite well, from saying something even less diplomatic – if that was possible at all. "Therefore, we'd like to clarify the circumstances of the incident in advance", she added.

  "The Argon government has already been informed", Danna said. He was going to add that the Split could count on military and economical sanctions, but refrained from it because of the diplomatic nature of this mission.

  The patriarch, however, understood the hidden threat in Danna's statement alarmingly well. "Is that so", he said. It wasn't so much a question as an ascertainment. The older Split standing next to the Throne winked with his only eye, while the young Split to the patriarch's right, who had introduced himself as Cho t'Nnt, seemed to smile; this made Elena think. Smiling Split never meant anything good. A Split woman sitting on a stone bench next to the throne was watching the events attentively, but didn't show any emotions.

  "I hope for your sake that there are survivors and they're well, Chin!", Danna replied, who was now getting enraged by the patriarchs manner. There was absolutely nothing to back his blatant threat. Elena knew that – Danna himself too, of course – and the patriarch knew it as well.

  "We've interrogated and tortured the humanlings", Chin said grinning, looking on a small display on the pedestal in front of the throne. Obviously, new information had just come in. "And I will teach the creatures the respect they owe me! Cho
– he'll throw them into the gaol."

  Suddenly, everything happened at once: Ban Danna, Morsa and Cho drew their weapons simultaneously; Elena, who didn't want to draw her weapon just yet, jumped aside instinctively when a glaring beam from the patriarch's blaster flashed through the hall, right through Morsa's chest. A second beam from Cho's gun struck Danna's weapon out of his hand before he could even fire a single shot.

  All four Split aimed their weapons at the humans now at point-blank range.

  "The creatures throw their weapons away!", Cho barked. Elena and the under-state secretary Giller complied reluctantly. "Cho, he ascertain they don't carry any further weapons and then he bring them into the prison – we're going to have another visitor shortly."

  The special representative made the sign of obedience and approached the humans with his weapon in firing position.

  CHAPTER 44

  Here, I'd like to be buried… not right now, naturally…

  Ban Danna

  On Nif-Nakh

  The name of the Planet Nif-Nakh – "festering wound", as Valerie readily translated – was fully justified. Its continents were covered over and over by the thickest, greenest jungle one could imagine. In stark contrast to the green stood two large, blood red oceans that actually looked as if a predator had inflicted deep wounds to the planet with sharp teeth and fangs. Only a small number of thin clouds obfuscated the view to the surface; in terms of meteorology, there weren't many air currents or vortices on this exceptionally stable world.

  But in Kyle's mind there was only the image of Ninu that he had been transmitted by the Split a couple of hours ago: strapped into an atrocious looking metal contraption, hooked to numerous cables, the eyes in her pretty face wide open, staring into nothingness. There was a thin strand of saliva coming from a corner of her mouth, and her muscles were twitching involuntarily from time to time. It had almost broken his heart to see her like that.