by T. R. Harris
A small plaque was attached to the iron bars, along with a small box bolted along the top. Adam walked up to the sign and pressed a button on the box.
A scanner inside the box detected the Human’s translation bugs and transmitted an audio version of the sign’s message.
“It was through this tunnel, that the honorable Juirean Elder Hydon ra Elys escaped the assault on his bunker by the Kracori, agents of the evil Klin sub-race. Elder Hydon would later meet his fate at the hand of Kracori, yet not before driving the aliens from our revered homeworld of Juir. It is in his honor that the reconstructed capital building was named the Malor-Hydon Tower.”
Adam snickered. No mention of all the help Hydon had in escaping from the Kracori. Of course, that would have stained the myth surrounding the event. Adam and Riyad knew better. They led the effort to bore through the mountain in a huge laser-armed excavator, thereby saving the Juirean leader from certain death—at least for a while. The later the sign refers to was when the Kracori loaded him into a starship and spirited him off their homeworld of Elision. He was never heard from again. And it wasn’t he who drove the Kracori from Juir. It was the rapidly-approaching Human fleet that did the trick. But again, that didn’t fit into the narrative of the times.
Adam and Riyad each had a backpack and satchel full of weapons, ammo and other sundry items that might come in handy for their assault on the Juirean stronghold. Yet the one thing they didn’t have was a crowbar.
The covering over the entrance to the tunnel wasn’t a gate, just a rusted iron grate. Iron was iron on any world; it’s when alloys were made from the basic material that the differences in strength were found, depending on the gravity of a particular world. Why make an alloy or artificial material that could support a building four times the weight when it wasn’t necessary? That’s what gave Humans most of their physical advantage throughout the galaxy. But if something was made out of the raw material, there wasn’t much they could do about it.
Adam examined the anchors in the solid stone of the cliff face. There was rust, but none of the rods had even the slightest give. They were left with only one solution.
“Hopefully it won’t attract too much attention,” Adam said.
“Yeah, why would an explosion at the base of the most-guarded mountain in the galaxy draw any attention? Happens all the time, I’m sure.”
“If you have any better suggestions….”
“None. I just like to complain. It’s what I do,” said Riyad, smiling.
“Take cover. I’m using an M-4 grenade.”
Adam moved back as far as he could in the small clearing and cocked the M-101. He held the weapon at hip level and pulled the trigger.
It was a few moments the results were known. They weren’t great, but enough.
The lower left section of the rock face had crumbled, freeing an anchor rod, bending it outward. Adam and Riyad rushed over, and after a lot of huffing and puffing, managed to bend it out a little more, making an opening big enough for them to crawl under.
Adam went first. Riyad passed him the packs and weapons and then followed.
Adam had brought several sets of forehead lights with him anticipating a climb through a three thousand foot long tunnel. Although their suit helmets also had lights, the men had already removed them. They were hot and stuffy, and the coolness of the fresh air circulating through the tunnel was a welcome relief. They placed the lights around their heads and surveyed their surroundings.
The passageway had been melted through the middle of the mountain by powerful lasers set at the front of an excavator pod, which was a one-time-use piece of equipment. For locomotion, the cylindrical-shaped vehicle traveled on long tank-like treads, leaving tracks in the molten rock not unlike stairs. This would make the climb to the top much easier. The rest of the rock lining was smooth as glass, and with a small stream flowing rapidly along the bottom.
Adam was relieved to find a fairly decent breeze circulating through the tunnel. This meant it was open all the way to the top, or some other vent farther along. Without the circulating air, it would be a good bet a cave-in had blocked the passage and another way up the mountain would have to be found.
Without a word, the two men began moving up the convenient stairway along the sloping sides of the tunnel. There was a strong musty odor and the walls were slick with a coating of moisture which fed the stream.
After the Kracori dropped their asteroid into the Southern Sea a hundred miles from here, huge tsunamis swept across the coastal plain, inundating Juir City before running halfway up the mountain. The waters also entered the tunnel.
Only Hydon and a handful of Humans escaped in the pod before the flood. The rest were still in trapped the security vault when the waves hit. At first, the surging column of water created an incredible crush of pressure building up before it. Then the heavy vault door exploded outward, relieving the pressure. By that time, the towering pyramid structure atop the vault had been destroyed and the mountaintop devoid of life. So no one was around when a geyser a thousand feet high erupted from the surface of the Kracoran Plain. Everything in the tunnel and the vault was flushed out within the spectacular fountain.
That wasn’t to say the path the two men followed was clear of any obstacles. Over the years, weak areas of the tunnel had collapsed, but not enough to entirely block their progress. In addition, the path the pod had traveled wasn’t always a gentle slope. In some places, the tunnel was nearly vertical, and the tread-carved stairway became a ladder. The climb was only three thousand feet, but the going was slow. They stopped several times to rest.
“Probably going to be another grate at the top,” Riyad pointed out at one of their breaks.
“I thought about that. I’m thinking if we have to blow it, we won’t be too far from where Sherri and Arieel are being held.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I’m counting on Synnoc wanting to keep his most-prized prisoners in the pyramid. There was a whole maze of catacombs under the first one. Seems a logical place for jail cells.”
“I hope you’re right. I’d hate to get up there and have to go door-to-door looking for the women.”
Adam looked at his watch. “We’ll know soon enough. We’ve been at this for a couple of hours. We should be getting close.”
“Lead on, my Captain.”
Chapter 30
“My Lord, the Formilian delegation has arrived,” announced an attending Overlord. His name was Acus bin Masins, and he was a long-time aide of Synnoc’s and an expert in legal matters. He had intimate knowledge of all that had transpired recently, including the attack on the Elder four days before, from which Synnoc was still recovering. “Are you able to take the meeting, or should I postpone?”
The Elder was dressed in a ceremonial cloak and robe, covering the bruise on his neck with a dark blue wrap. He cleared his throat. “No, I will be fine. Send them up and then remain.”
Four Formilian males climbed the stairs to the Pinnacle Room and approached the conference table. Synnoc and Acus stood on the other side.
The delegation was led by the High Celebrant, Trimen O’lac. He was tall—for a Formilian—deeply tanned, square-jawed and extremely fit, which is saying he looked like all the other Formilians in the delegation. He was also the mate of Arieel Bol.
“My Lord,” said Trimen, “I want to thank you for receiving us. As you can understand, the subject we wish to discuss is of extreme importance.”
They all took seats at the table, with Acus next to Synnoc. After a brief introduction of all in the room, Trimen continued the conversation.
“We have come about Arieel Bol and her status with the Juireans. I understand you intend to advance charges against her for conspiracy based on her relationship with the Humans?”
“That is correct,” said Synnoc. His tone was matter-of-fact and slightly bored. “This relationship is well-known and cannot be denied, especially by you.”
Synnoc knew O’lac’s mat
e had given birth to child that was not his. The offspring was a demonic creature called Lila, and she was the product of the Formilian female and Adam Cain. O’lac was the High Celebrant, the head of the Formilian Temple of the Order of Light, the spiritual and political leaders of the planet. This bazaar interspecies birth had to be an embarrassment to him.
Although O’lac was the head of the Temple, the symbolic leader of the Formilian race was a person called the Speaker; the latest female within a two-thousand-year-long bloodline with the purported ability to speak directly with the gods of the Formilians, Mislin and Sufor. Arieel Bol had been Speaker, up the point it was discovered that all her so-called powers came from an artificial device linking her thoughts with Formilian-designed electronic controllers that were pervasive throughout the galaxy. To the weak-minded, the tricks she could perform with electricity were considered miracles and proof of her connection with the gods. It all came crashing down on the leadership of the Temple when the facts of this deception became public. The Speakership was disgraced, along with the religious leaders who had perpetuated the lie for so many generations.
The planet fell into near-revolt and decline, as deeply held beliefs were shattered and the natives sought retribution for the deceit. With Formilian technology and production so vital to the Expansion, Synnoc sent troops to the planet to secure his interests. This was before this most-recent criminality on the part of Arieel Bol was asserted by the Juireans.
Recently, however, the highly intelligent and pragmatic race had stepped away from the abyss. They realized that the Speakers themselves—raised from birth to fulfil their posts—honestly believed in the lie. They saw the brain-interface device—something they called their Gift—as a creation of the gods, and were therefore blind to the deception.
A movement was afoot to reinstate Arieel Bol to her prior post, partly as a way to stabilize the chaotic political and cultural atmosphere on the planet, but also as a reward for all she—and her daughter Lila—had done to save the galaxy from the Sol-Kor menace. They also saw it as a way for the Juireans to leave their homeworld.
Synnoc saw it differently. He didn’t think Arieel Bol was due any reward or special consideration for what she had done. Instead, she was to be tried and convicted for helping the criminal Adam Cain in the commission of his evil deeds.
At least that was the official line. To Synnoc, Arieel Bol was simply a means to an end. He could care less what she had done in the Sol-Kor universe, or even the fact that her daughter was a mutant and associated with the Sol-Kor surrogate Panur. She was a draw for Adam Cain, and that was all that mattered. Yes, he also had the Human female, Sherri Valentine, but the Formilian and her paramour shared something more—an offspring. Synnoc would use whatever he had available to bring Cain to Juir, regardless of the political ramifications.
“My Lord, the relationship—as you call it—is not in denial. Yet we do not see how this rises to the level of criminality you assign to it. She accompanied the Humans to the Sol-Kor universe and helped defeat our mutual enemy. How can that be a crime?”
“That is not her crime. It was when Adam Cain murdered a highly-placed Overlord during a time of peace that her association with him became such.”
Trimen looked to the others in his delegation. “I was not aware she was with Adam Cain at the time of the incident? Was she?”
“Do you have any evidence she was not?” asked Acus, giving his master a rest as he heard his voice growing ever more raspy.
“Do you have evidence she was?”
Acus stretched a thin grin. “Association alone is proof enough for the Council. Since the entire Juirean force died shortly after Adam Cain committed his act, we have no proof that she not with him. She had been in his company prior.”
“May we see her, to hear her side of the charges?”
“She would only lie to you. How can the word of a defendant be trusted? Only independent verification is admitted as evidence.” Acus continued.
“But you have no independent verification she was with Cain.”
“Do not plead your case to us, Trimen O’lac,” Synnoc said, again joining the conversation. “The fact that she returned to the galaxy with Adam Cain, and that she was found in the company of another Human criminal—Sherri Valentine—proves her involvement.”
The Formilian’s eyes were large, his expression desperate. “Regardless, may we meet with her? Perhaps there is evidence of which you are not aware that would exonerate her.”
“You may see her, yet any new evidence should be found quickly. I will not tolerate the presence of such criminals on Juir much longer. Within six days this matter will be closed and both prisoners will be executed.”
“But my Lord, what effect on the Formilian people do you think such an action would have?”
Synnoc sat forward. “High Celebrant O’lac, do I hear a threat in your statement? Are you saying the Formilian people may protest my actions?”
Trimen’s eyes met Synnoc’s. A tense moment passed before the Formilian broke the gaze. “There was no threat, my Lord. Yet I am saying my people will not welcome the news of our Speaker having been put to death on a foreign world.”
“She is no longer your Speaker, which as I understand is now a disgraced position.”
“Every race seeks a leader; the Speakers of Life and Light will continue to be ours, in whatever capacity we decide. Arieel is our Speaker, and upon her return to Formil, was to formalized once again.”
“Unless you can perform miracles—real miracles—Arieel Bol will never return to Formil, at least not alive. Now if there is nothing else—”
“Our visit with the Speaker?”
“My aide will arrange it. She has been treated well, pending your arrival and this discussion. Yet as I said earlier, if new evidence is not presented soon, I will have no reason to provide further restraint during her captivity. As it has been with those charged with crimes against the Juireans, our prisoners often welcome death rather than the alternative of living longer under our care. This is a deliberate strategy we employ to deter such crime from occurring in the first place. I am sure you see the wisdom in such a policy, High Celebrant.”
********
After the Formilians left the Pinnacle Room, Synnoc sat at the large stone conference table, alone and in thought.
The defeat of his fleet was four days old, and still he refused to believe Juir was in danger. He now had five hundred additional warships stationed throughout the Alliance Cluster, and the remainder of his fleet was headed this way. Unfortunately, most of them were trailing the Human fleet which had a twelve-hour advantage.
Synnoc ordered the speediest ships to leave their groups and bolt for Juir as fast as possible. The slower ships could make it on their own. This would put more defensive units in place before the Humans—traveling at a fleet speed—could reach the planet.
With such actions in place, Synnoc took time to reflect on other things, namely his obsession with Adam Cain.
He began by considering the lengths certain races went through to protect their gender opposites, as Cain was doing for his two females. It had been like this for the Juireans as well, many thousands of years before. Fortunately, they had moved beyond such nonsense.
Or at least they had….
When the Kracori attacked the core worlds seventeen years before, they made a point of taking out the breeding facilities on Salin. Over a billion Juirean females died, and to this day the race was still struggling to recover from that tragic event.
With such a massive empire to rule, the most valuable asset the Juireans had to maintain control was a live Juirean adult on site. Thousands of years ago, they had abandoned the traditional method of procreation for a more automated, more reliable process. Every person and gender in Juirean society had their designated duties. Males expanded and managed the empire, while females provided it with more Juireans for the task. As a result, breeding females were held in reverence and awe, pampered and cared for in
huge breeding facilities off planet. They were provided with careful pre-screened reproductive fluid from select males and were expected to stay pregnant during their reproductive years. Most could produce twenty-five offspring or more during this period, before being assigned to other tasks, such as caring for the mothers or managing the newborns.
A child would remain in the facility for a period of five years. Afterwards, they were transferred off-planet to training facilities where, based on physical and mental aptitude, they would be placed into programs to become either Admins, Techs, Guards or Overlords.
It was all very efficient, very sterile.
After The Great Exodus, the Juireans had to recover, and not only their pride, power and status, but also their numbers. There was a forty-eight-to-one male-to-female ratio, and no matter how it was figured, the male population would grow old and die off in huge numbers long before enough females could be birthed to make up for the attrition. Through genetic manipulation, the Juireans could determine the gender of the offspring. Even to this day, nine out of ten births were female, all in a desperate race to replace this missing segment of their society before it was too late.
During the early years of their exile, the Juireans even experimented with returning to the old method of reproduction, through physical mating. Synnoc grimaced at the memory. The strategy proved to be a disaster.
Females began to have their favorite mates, as did the males, and conflicts arose. Jealousy—an emotion all but bred out of the Juireans throughout the centuries—returned, seemingly overnight. Fights between both competing males and females erupted, and sub-groups assembled into tribes to protect against intruders. These affiliations were subtle, yet real, and they impacted the final birthing numbers and quality of the offspring.
Synnoc was Elder at the time and was aware this dynamic. Five years before, he had ended the practice, returning to the birthing centers and anonymous fluid donors. The centers were now located on Juir, on the far side of the planet from Juir City. Drugs were reintroduced into the Juirean food supply to suppress the primal urges, both for the males and females. The system was working, but the race was still greatly under-populated.