by T. R. Harris
She was certainly under the influence of a drug of some kind, simply rocking slowing back and forth in the corner – but at least she was still alive.
Next, Adam’s attention was diverted as he heard the door to his right begin to open, screeching on rusted hinges like fingernails on a chalkboard. The effect was excruciating, but not as shocking as who he saw enter the room.
It was Nigel McCarthy.
The large, red-headed Englishman was himself frozen in shock as he spotted Adam, yet only for a moment until the look changed to that of sheer panic.
“Call all the guards!” he yelled out as he grabbed the lead sentry by the shirt and pulled him close. “Scan the entire area for others and secure the front gate. Do not let anyone approach the compound, even if they’re your brothers and sons. Shoot anyone who comes within fifty feet of the walls. Do it now!”
He shoved the hapless guard away, and soon the entire room was swarming with a dozen additional guards. McCarthy had withdrawn a high-powered MK-47 from his holster – the most-powerful of the MK-line of handguns – and was holding it against his cheek. He moved past Adam to the large window, standing to the side, scanning the exterior.
He touched a small communication box on his shoulder. “Carter, prep the ship. We may have to bug out of here in a hurry.”
“What’s up,” was the response through the comm box.
“That bloody Adam Cain is here.”
There was a pregnant pause before Carter Thomas, Nigel McCarthy’s second-in-command responded. “Where is he? Is he alone?”
McCarthy looked back at Adam, his eyes ablaze with anger. “He’s right here with me. It looks like he’s alone, but you know this bloke; you can never be sure what he’s up to.”
The initial shock of seeing his old nemesis had worn off enough that Adam now sat with an amused smile watching McCarthy panic. It only made the whole kidnapping affair come into better focus.
Nigel McCarthy, formerly of Her Majesty’s Special Air Service (SAS), was a criminal through and through, so why wouldn’t he be neck-deep in the kidnapping of The Speaker? This was his style.
Yet the last Adam had heard of Nigel McCarthy he was being shuffled off to Elision, the home planet of the Kracori. That was ten years ago and now here he was, alive and still up to no good.
Adam flashed Nigel a wide, Cheshire-cat smile, which only seemed to infuriate the large Englishman even more.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Cain? This is not a good time for a class reunion.”
“If you’re referring to the ransom of the Formilian Speaker, then you’re probably right.”
McCarthy came away from the window, never taking his eyes off Adam and moved to the other side of the table, the MK now leveled at his chest. “What do you know about that?”
“I’m the one sent to deliver it and bring our pretty little Arieel back home.”
“No shite? How – why you?”
“Right place, wrong time, I guess. So are we going to do some business here or not?”
McCarthy stared at Adam for several seconds before responding. “Are you alone? They were told to come alone.”
“I’m alone,” Adam answered, still with an amused look in his eye. He was really enjoying watching Nigel squirm like this. The two of them had history together, and Adam was sure that if the roles were reversed, he would have had the same reaction.
“I just want to make this exchange and be on my way, Nigel. Whatever happened between the two of us happened over ten years ago; it has no bearing on what’s happening now. And besides, I’m just as surprised to see you here as you are to see me. Talk about a small galaxy.”
Again, McCarthy took a long while before responding, but then Adam saw a sparkle return to Nigel’s pale blue eyes. But then the sparkle turned to a sinister grin slowly stretching across his face, an expression that was the exact mirror image of Adam’s own smile fading away.
McCarthy wouldn’t suddenly be satisfied with the situation unless it meant trouble for Adam. He watched nervously as Nigel pulled back a chair and sat down, confidently placing the MK-47 on the table as he did so.
Something had just happened in the devious mind of Nigel McCarthy, and all Adam Cain could do now was swallow hard … and pray.
10
Two natives held Adam by the arms while another searched him. When the alien was done, he looked up at McCarthy, concern plastered on his face. “He carries no credits on him.”
McCarthy smiled at Adam, while his eyes scanned him up and down. “So where is the ransom you’re supposed to being me?”
“I don’t have it on me. That’s a lot of credits to carry. I had to see of The Speaker was okay before turning it over you.”
Nigel smiled back at Adam, now completely confidence in his control of the situation. He met Adam’s eyes and they locked on. “Mr. Cain, is that a king’s ransom in your pants, or are you just glad to see me? Check his groin area,” the Englishman commanded to the alien guard.
The native cocked his head slightly.
“Between his legs; check between his legs.”
The creature bent down and clumsily began to unfastened Adam’s pants. “Okay, stop,” Adam said. “I’ll do it.” He unzipped the fly and reached inside, before withdrawing a large plastic pouch containing the purple Expansion credits.
The alien snatched the bag away and held it up to McCarthy with pride.
“I’m glad I was here,” McCarthy said. “It seems I’m the only one familiar enough with Human anatomy to know something was more than it seemed. However, it does look as if I will have to sterilize these credits before I can use them.”
Adam was in no mood for jokes. “Okay, now that you have the ransom, will you release the Speaker?”
“I would like nothing more than to oblige – once I have learned the secret of her powers.”
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“No, it wasn’t, at least as far as the Formilians were concerned. But it is mine.” McCarthy picked up the MK-47 again. “Now that I’ve had a little time to recover from the shock of seeing you again, Adam, I must say I’m ecstatic that it is you who have brought the ransom. I can’t believe what a stroke of good luck this has become.” He turned to address the lead guard. “Put the credits on the table and then leave the room,” he commanded. None hesitated as they all quickly exited, leaving their boss alone with the other Human.
Adam looked over at Arieel, who was still sitting near the corner, rocking slowing in the chair and softly muttering. “If she dies you know it will start a war.”
“Exactly, Mr. Cain, I’m counting on it! But we’ll get to that soon enough. What I’m really curious about is what you’ve been up to over the past three, four years? I thought you’d gone back to Earth to bask in the glow of your greatness?”
Adam really wanted to know more about McCarthy’s plans, not reminisce about the good ole days, but he figured the longer he kept McCarthy talking, the longer he might actually live. That was a big incentive to accommodate the big Englishman’s ego and curiosity.
“Nah, I’d had enough of all that. I decided to stick around and play Luke Skywalker for a while longer.”
“And now you work for the Formilians?”
“Actually, I do odd jobs for Kroekus.”
“Ah, that makes more sense, after all we are all part of the old Fringe fraternity, aren’t we?” Adam could tell McCarthy was thoroughly enjoying the conversation now that he knew Adam was no threat to him.
“But what about you, Nigel? The last I heard you were on your way to Elision to cozy up with the Kracori. Whatever happened to that arrangement?”
McCarthy slapped the table in front of him. “I have you to thank for that!”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s right. After you got up in front of the galaxy three years ago and announced that the Kracori were an official outlaw race – whatever that means – and that the Humans would hunt them relentlessly, the grey bastards got n
ervous that I might trade their planet’s location for a full pardon, or some such nonsense. So my men and I figured it was best to bug out, rather than wait to be taken out. So we split.”
“So why haven’t you cut a deal? I’m sure the powers back on Earth would’ve worked something out.”
“I have my reasons, Adam, not the least of which is that even though the big-wigs would let me come back, thanks to you and all the bloody books written about your exploits, I’m pretty much the new-Hitler of the space age.”
“That was Riyad’s book that said all those things about you. I haven’t written anything myself.”
“Be that as it may, I’d still have to stay in hiding for the rest of life. People don’t soon forget a billion dead relatives – or the guy who helped the aliens kill them.”
Adam just shrugged.
McCarthy continued. “So instead, I chose to concentrate my efforts in other areas and have helped to bring the word organized to crime in the galaxy.” He smiled broadly. “And it’s been easier than I thought. It’s as if Superman turned villain. If that ever happened, there’s not much others could do to stop him. It’s the same here.
“Just think, I send in my men out to cut a deal with a local drug dealer and suddenly I have a piece of the action on over twenty-five worlds. Then I go down the street and do the same with the contraband kingpin. It hasn’t been hard to arrange the meetings and then convince these weak-kneed aliens that it’s in their best interest to let me in. And in the end, we all end up making money.
“And about the location of Elision, I’m keeping that in my back pocket, just in case I run into some ambitious Humans who might think it’s a good idea to take me back to Earth. Hell, I could even trade that information to some alien government looking to score points with the Humans. That information alone is worth a fortune.”
“So where are the Kracori located?” Adam asked with a smile, knowing Nigel would never casually give up the information.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, my friend; wouldn’t you like to know.”
Adam looked back at the still catatonic Arieel Bol. “What have you done to her? She looks totally messed up.”
McCarthy waved a dismissive hand. “She’s fine,” he said. “We kept her drugged for a few days and then the scientists fitted her with that brainwave-disrupter thing. It scrambles her higher brain functions while keeping the lower one’s going, the ones that keep her breathing and shit like that.”
“And what’s this about you wanting to start a frickin war? How is that going to help you out?”
McCarthy met Adam’s eyes for a moment as he thought what to say next. Then he gave a slight nod, more to himself than to Adam.
“I’m sure it’s beginning to dawn on you, Adam, that things are not as you were led to believe,” McCarthy began, a smug, satisfied look now on his face. “I have thirty-million credits sitting in that bag, plus the Speaker of the Formilians as my captive – a creature of incredible powers I might add. I also have a small army of over one hundred Humans, which you know is a force to be reckoned with here in this alien universe. I also have a vast and growing criminal empire, in a galaxy ripe for the organization and unity I’m providing. And now I have you, the famous Adam Cain. I must be living bloody-well right!”
Nigel looked at the large window to the outside. When he turned back to Adam his eyes held a devious sparkle. “I shouldn’t do this; after all I have seen far too many Bond-movies to fall for the trap. But I’m just so anxious to see the look on your face when all is revealed.” McCarthy was so wickedly satisfied with himself that he almost burst out laughing.
Adam sat stone-faced, wondering what was so funny, and afraid he would soon find out.
“Let’s see, where shall I begin? First of all, in a couple of hours this compound will be attacked by forces masquerading as Formilians.” Nigel’s eyes absolutely beamed bright as he watched the shock cross Adam’s face. “That’s right, and during this attack, the pretty little Speaker over there will unfortunately meet her demise. This event will allow the Omphly Federation to declare war on the Coalition in response to this blatant breech of their regional sovereignty. The resulting war will be the largest such conflict to take place in the galaxy since … well, since we last saw each other.”
“Why would you do that … start a war that will kill billions?”
“For the money, Adam, why else? The Formilians are very advanced technologically, yet they have not spent much of their energies on building weapons of war. And the Federation is more primitive, even though larger in numbers. Both of these sides will need the weapons I will sell them. This ransom you’ve brought is but a small down payment for what I will make as the war progresses.”
“So why kill Arieel if the attack will be enough to start the war?”
“For a couple of reasons: First of all, the Federation has a very healthy fear of the Speaker and her powers. As I said, they are primitive and actually believe that she is some kind of supernatural demon. That’s why they despise her so much. Yet they won’t hesitate to declare war if they believe the lovely Arieel is dead.”
“Believe?”
“That’s right, Mr. Cain. Do you really think I could allow her to die before I’ve learned all her secrets? That knowledge is much too valuable to throw away like that.”
“I’m not following you.”
“You don’t actually believe she has supernatural powers, do you?”
“Not really. But why do you not believe her?”
“Because I have seen the device she has imbedded under her lovely skin.”
“The self-destruct?”
“I have seen that, too. In fact we knew of it even before we took her. No, I’m talking about the gadget she uses to do all her fancy miracles.”
Adam’s jaw fell open slightly as he stared silently at McCarthy.
“You didn’t know, did you? How do you think she does all that fancy crap with just her mind?” McCarthy let out a soft grunt. “You would think that for people as smart as the Formilians that they would have seen through the ruse long ago. Just think logically, mate. If her bloodline did possess these great powers, then why does only one of them exhibit them at a time? And if these are real powers, then how can they be given and taken away at a certain age?
“It’s obvious to anyone with a lick of sense that she’s using some artificial means of controlling electricity and electronic devices – devices I might add that have been almost exclusively designed by her own people.”
Adam was silent; he had essentially come to the same conclusion several days before, but maybe not in such succinct terms.
McCarthy continued through the silence. “I’m sure you’ve thought about what you could do if you had her powers, Mr. Cain. Well, I’ve had the opportunity to study Miss Bol for several days now, and my scientists have just about got it figured out. It’s simply a device that can read her thoughts and then act on them through the wonders of technology. The Formilians have all that nailed down and have for a very long time.
“So you see, I not only going to start a very profitable war, which will make me a shit-load of money, but now I have the bonus of finding out how the Formilians can control electricity with just their thoughts. That, my Yankee friend, is now the greatest prize of them all, and not something I had anticipated when I initially planned this operation.”
McCarthy then stopped and let out a hearty laugh. “And now you have simply dropped in my lap! As I said, I must be living right.”
“So how are you going to learn how the device works without getting yourself blown up? She only has so much time left, you know.”
“Let me worry about that. I have people working on that problem right now, and besides, we already have a fundamental understanding of how the mind-reading device works. If we can’t figure out the self-destruct mechanism as well, then we’ll just have to make do with what we have. And thanks to this ransom, as well as the money I make from the rest of my other activiti
es, I have nearly unlimited funds available to make that happen. Once we analyze the data, I’m sure we’ll be able to duplicate the technology.”
“So you’ll just let her die?”
“Of course, Mr. Cain; she’s a bloody alien after all! Granted, she is the most fetching lass I’ve seen out here – or anywhere for that matter – but the two of us have killed more than our fair share of non-Humans. This is no time to go soft, just for a pretty face and a knock-out body.”
Adam began to quickly work through the different scenarios if a war began between the Coalition and the Federation was to begin and if Nigel’s scientist did manage to override the explosive device within Arieel’s body. The Order may just let her die and install a new Speaker. Convor would then assume power – at least in the interim – during a time of war and until a new Speaker comes of age. Or they may continue their efforts to rescue her, only to reveal her to the Federation as also having the power over life and death, in addition to all her other miraculous powers. That might put an end to the war right then and there.
Either way, the ultimate fate of Arieel Bol was no longer his primary concern. That had been replaced by the fact that Nigel McCarthy, the insane SAS officer who had once assisted the Klin in the slaughter of over a billion of his fellow Humans, might actually gain the knowledge of how she controls electronic devices with her mind. That would prove to be even a greater threat than any regional war. With that much power, McCarthy would be virtually unstoppable. And then what if he gave that power to all of his one hundred fellow Human criminals he spoke of? He would indeed control an army of real supermen, with powers far beyond those of any alien, or even other Humans. It would be a disaster of unimaginable proportions.
Adam knew Nigel McCarthy. The former SAS field officer was a certifiable nut-case, consumed by his own lust for power. But he was also a survivor. Whatever Adam was to do next, the last thing he should do is underestimate McCarthy and his abilities. If he said he was going to start a war, then a war he would start. And if he said he would learn the secrets of the Speaker, then Adam could bet his bottom dollar that he’d make that happen, too.