by T. R. Harris
“As will we all, Convor. Gotta go….” And then he cut the link.
Arieel stared at the blank screen for a long time, still whimpering softly. Adam let her recover in her own time. In the meantime, he scanned the charts for the nearest inhabited planet. They were currently traveling in dark mode, so the planet would have to be very close. Even then, he would eventually have to engage the gravity drive. There just wasn’t enough time for a leisurely coast in.
Arieel took a deep breath and turned her attention to Adam. “What is this plan you spoke of. I assume I can be made privy to its details?”
Adam smiled. “Of course, after all we’re both in the same boat—” he raised his hand when he saw the confused look cross her face. “—ship. But it’s what Convor said about the Phoenix having a unique gravity signature. As long as we’re in this ship we can be tracked. So we’re going to have to find another one. I hate to abandon her, but if we could find another ship that’s not so prominent, then we just might be able to blend in with all the other traffic out here and slip into Formil undetected.”
Arieel face appeared to light up and a forced smile appeared. “That sounds like an excellent plan. What can I do to assist?”
“At the moment, not much, but once I find a world where we can land, I’m sure your talents will come in handy. Stealing a spaceship may be right up your alley.”
Once again, Arieel looked confused. But she smiled even more broadly and said, “You are indeed a strange creature with a very strange way of speaking, but I believe I see now that you have our best interests at the forefront. I will defer to your expertise and be ready to assist when instructed. Until then, I wish to return to my cabin so I can refresh myself. I must look hideous.”
Adam watched as she unstrapped herself from the co-pilot’s seat and left the pilothouse. “Hideous is not a word I would ever associate with you, Arieel – ever.” He said softly as she disappeared around the corner.
Just then her beautiful head reappeared around the corner, sending a large wave of jet-black hair swirling into the room. “Formilian’s have a remarkable sense of hearing, Adam Cain. I heard what you said.” She displayed a wide smile and mischievous eyes, and then she was gone again, leaving Adam questioning just what was he going to do if they ever made it out of this mess alive!
14
At the time of the ambush, the Phoenix had been traveling through the Siyvelan star system. It wasn’t much of a place: a typical second-tier Expansion system that had joined the Coalition about two hundred years ago, impressed by the miracles of the Speaker and the common-sense basis of her religion. Everyone could see the effects of electricity all around them, so why not worship it? It was as good as anything. And if the building of advanced electronics is what they had to do to appease the gods – well it sure beat the sacrificing of virgins! Besides, the Formilians’ had a living-god among them. What could be better than that?
There was one native world within the star system whose Prime race – called the Armplanese – had also settled a neighboring world with the help of Juirean and Formilian technology. This colony world was called Bor’on, and it came with a harsher existence then the Armplanese native world, with lighter-than-normal gravity and a much more severe environment, complete with higher surface temperatures and a near-perpetual cloud cover.
Because of this harsh environment, the settlers of Bor’on relied heavily on technology to keep them alive and flourishing, something that Adam – with the help of Arieel – could use to their advantage … if they could keep Arieel from being recognized.
Bor’on lay about forty million miles from their current location, and even coasting at one-third the speed of light, it would take them over ten hours to reach the planet. Adam concluded that this was acceptable and remaining in dark mode for that long would give their pursuers more reason to believe that Adam had slipped through their net.
He changed course through a series of quick chemical burns and was soon lined up with the planet. Slowing down for the approach would be another matter; he would have to engage a shallow-well, if only for a moment, to break their speed. This was a risk he was willing to take. They just didn’t have time for any more precautions.
Even if they were able to hide the Phoenix and commandeer another ship, at normal transit speeds within star systems, it would take them six more days to reach Formil. Adding the ten hours it would take to get to Bor’on, plus the time of the surface securing a new ride, that didn’t leave much leeway if any unforeseen events occurred.
Then he had the added problem of not being able to simply show up in the space above Formil. It had been intimated that there may even be those on Formil who wished them dead; thirty million credits could counter even the most devout beliefs and loyalties. Announcing their presence in such an open manner would only invite an attack right on the doorsteps of the Temple.
So Adam would have to sneak Arieel onto the planet and into the Temple, taking even more time off an ever-ticking clock.
And then to top it all off, Adam didn’t have a clue how he was going to do any of the things just mentioned. He was going strictly on gut instinct.
Bor’on grew steadily in the viewport – yet excruciatingly slower than what they were accustomed to – until it dominated the forward screen. The planet had a consistent yellowish hue, a byproduct of starlight filtered through the light haze of clouds enveloping the world.
There was very little traffic in the space surrounding the planet, probably a consequence of everyone bolting out on missions of fame and fortune at the expense of Adam and Arieel.
The creation of a shallow-well about two hundred thousand miles off the surface of the planet would hardly be noticed, but it would suffice to slow the Phoenix enough for a long-burn chemical landing to be possible. Such a landing would exhaust Adam’s chemical fuel, so he only had one crack at getting it right.
The charts showed about a thousand or so settlements dotting the surface of Bor’on, yet only one stood out. It was a city called Fun – of all things – although Adam was sure the native translation would reveal a completely different meaning for the three-letter combination. Fun boasted the largest spaceport on the planet, and therefore was their best chance of locating a suitable substitute for the Phoenix.
Adam’s most-immediate issue came with landing the Phoenix without too much fanfare and then hiding it from prying eyes, at least long enough for them to get away.
He had already surrendered to the reality that the Phoenix would not stay hidden for long. Eventually it would be found and his pursuers would put two and two together. So the worst case scenario had him stealing a ship that could be easily traced, which would then leave him royally screwed. The hunters would still be after him, but now he’d be in an inferior ship without the capabilities of the Phoenix. At that point it would be time to cash in his chips, because it would be game-over at that point.
So somehow he would have to mask the stealing of the ship, leaving the authorities guessing which one he took.
Adam came in toward the city of Fun from the southeast, dropping in altitude on the other side of a low mountain range from the city. He skimmed the surface as best he could, until he found a wide passage between peaks and emerged over a long, barren lava flow leading up to the only thick forest he could see on this side of the spaceport.
He had consumed incredible amounts of chemical fuel during the approach and by the time he set the ship down on the surface of Bor’on, the indicator on his console was flashing red.
He landed just on the outskirts of a dilapidated suburb of Fun, crushing several stands of squatty trees while settling down. However, once Adam cut the drive, the ship was sitting below the level of the trees and fairly well-hidden, at least from the surface.
Indicators revealed a breathable atmosphere not requiring apparatus, yet the temperature was over ninety degrees Fahrenheit and relative humidity at one-hundred percent. Outside the ship, the heat was going to be oppressive.
> Adam strapped a holster around his waist containing his Glock 19 nine-millimeter semiautomatic and four extra magazines of fifteen rounds each. He also threw a Xan-fi flash rifle over his shoulder and placed six extra battery packs in a small satchel. Lastly, he took his olive-colored boonie hat and pulled it over his closely cropped blond hair. He had to admit it felt good getting geared up again. It had been a while.
Throughout his prep, he had failed to notice Arieel standing off to one side of the landing bay, leaning against the bulkhead, with her arms crossed over her chest. She seemed vaguely amused by the preparations Adam was making, even though she was making none of her own.
When Adam finally noticed her, he inhaled involuntarily, not believing what he saw. Arieel had cut her hair. It was now about shoulder length – a good twelve inches shorter than when he’d last seen her. The difference was shocking, yet just as appealing. She looked slightly older, wiser, and just as sexy, yet in a different way. The thick, silky hair curled in slightly, perfectly framing her face and making her eyes look even larger than before.
She studied Adam’s reaction with humor in her eyes. “I don’t want to be recognized if we run into any of my adoring fans,” she said with a wicked smile.
“Eh, good idea,” Adam stammered, having to force his bottom jaw shut for what seemed like the umpteenth time since he’d met the alluring alien. “You ready to go?”
She grinned. “More than you, Adam Cain.”
Adam knew what she meant. She was now on the surface of a planet rich in electronics and located well within her half-mile range of influence. He was sure even now she was sensing a whole variety of devices she could control, even though they were still about a mile from the border of the spaceport. As he was landing, Adam noticed the roofs of numerous dwellings nearly by scattered within the forest. As a matter of fact, he thought he remembered one being directly below the ship….
As he walked over to the control panel for the exterior hatch, the doorway suddenly sprang to life and began to open on its own. He hesitated briefly at the hatchway, waiting for the ramp to extend. Arieel was now standing next to him with a broad smile. He didn’t know if she was showing off or if this was simply how she lived her life. Either way, it was beginning to piss him off.
Soon any thoughts of humor or playful flirting were gone, as a blast of hot and humid air filled the landing bay. Adam inhaled several times, trying to condition his lungs to the heat and thickness of the air. He was already beginning to sweat.
Even the unflappable Arieel was showing signs of discomfort. Tiny beads of sweat were forming at her temples and the deep richness of her tanned skin had turned a shade or two darker. Fortunately for her, she had changed out of his sweat pants and shirt and was now wearing a too-tightly-fitting olive-colored tee-shirt and a pair of his khaki shorts. The shoes she wore were the ones she had left Uniss-3 with; slip-ons made of a soft cotton-like material, with hard rubber soles. Dressed as she was, it would be hard to recognize her as the Supreme Leader and religious icon of the Formilian Coalition. Yet depending on the anatomy and physiology of the natives, it would still be hard to keep her from being noticed just on her own account.
Adam was hoping the natives of Bor’on were slug–like beasts who would find Human and Formilian form repulsive. He would soon find out.
Once outside the ship, Adam took the flash rifle and fired several shots into the low-density trees nearby, causing them to tumble inward and on top of the Phoenix. Soon the ship was effectively camouflaged, even though it wouldn’t take much to find it.
Adam had also been right about the dwelling. Flattened out on either side of the delta-shaped spacecraft were the remains of what had once been a wooden structure with a thin metal roof. A small dirt road joined the clearing where the house had once stood, but it didn’t look like the road had been traveled recently. It led off in the direction of the spaceport.
Firming their resolve – while sweating profusely – alien and Human soon set off on foot down the road and toward the spaceport about a mile further on.
As they cleared the tree line, Adam could see the rough outline of the spaceport spread out on the vast lava field, indicated by a broken down wire fence with radically-leaning support posts. They were at the far end of the landing field, the area where the rusting remains of the derelicts were often stored. It was the same here, and it was obvious at first glance that none of these hulking, scrap-metal carcasses would suit their needs.
They passed through one of the numerous openings in the fence and proceeded deeper into the spaceport.
“Do you detect anything, Arieel?” Adam asked, now cradling the flash rifle in ready position.
“There are a half a dozen energy sources directly ahead, spaceships with their internals active.”
“Anything you can sense that would be large enough for our purposes?”
“These are small interplanetary shuttles. They will not get us to Formil.”
Damn, he was afraid of this. What if everyone had taken off looking for them? What if there were no starships left?
After fifteen minutes, and the passing several of the small shuttles, they arrived near the northwest corner of the landing field and at the control building next to the main gate. Adam flipped the flash rifle to his back using the shoulder strap, and the two of them entered the building.
Once inside, Adam got his first look at an Armplanese, the creatures who had settled the planet Bor’on. Unfortunately for Adam – and particularly Arieel – they looked very Prime; bi-pedal, tall, slender, with two eyes, two arms and an obvious interest in the ladies – at least this was Adam’s first impression from the attention they paid Arieel as they entered. In fact, Adam could have come in naked and armed with two sacks of explosives with burning fuses and he was sure the natives would not have noticed him. All eyes fell upon the ample figure of Arieel Bol.
There were six Armplanese in the room; two seated behind simple metal desks and the others leaning against a counter that appeared to be currently serving as a cocktail bar instead of its official function. Several containers of intoxicants were littering the countertop, along with the appropriate number of empty, or nearly empty, glasses. All the Armplanese wore the one-piece uniform of the spaceport’s ground crew.
One of the more aggressive – and obviously drunk – natives pushed himself away from the counter and turned to face Arieel. “By the Gods of Mislin and Sufor, if ever there was proof of their existence, then it is in the creation of this mateable creature. Have you ever seen such a fine specimen of foreign flesh before?”
Arieel barely cracked a smile as she looked at the others in the room, all males and all staring at her. Adam pushed himself in front of Arieel, interrupting the Armplanese’s view. “Pardon me, my friends,” he said cordially, “but we were wondering where all the ships have gone? We are looking for a hire.”
The aliens continued to look past Adam at Arieel. “There are no hires; most everyone has gone,” said one of the aliens from behind a desk. “You can’t possibly be her mate,” the creature continued. “You are too small and of a different race. Are you her escort?”
“Something like that,” Adam said, growing annoyed. “Are there no cruisers or class-two’s left in the entire port?” Anything larger than a class-two normally didn’t make landfall, and besides that a larger ship would require more crew to operate. They would have to find a smaller ship, just not too small.
The alien from the behind the desk stood and walked toward the counter to get a better look at Arieel. “Of course there are ships in port,” he said to Adam without looking at him. “I just said there are no ships for hire.”
The Armplanese stood around eight-feet tall, either naturally or from genetic mutation in the lighter gravity of Bor’on. Either way, they towered over Adam, and particularity Arieel, who came in right around five-five – very short for an alien, even a female alien. Her height did not seem to deter the natives. They began to crowd around her.
> Just then Adam began to hear a soft whirling sound; it seemed to be in stereo, coming from a variety of directions. Almost immediately, all six of the Armplanese reached for the small comm boxes attached to their shoulder applets. Now each of the boxes had begun to screech, and the irritating sound was growing louder by the moment. The crew fumbled with their boxes, unable to get the sound to stop.
And then abruptly there was silence. “My friend and I are looking for a ship,” Arieel said forcefully the moment the sound stopped. She turned to the one who had been sitting at the desk. “You said there are no ships for hire, but are there ships here of the grade my friend mentioned?”
The Armplanese looked down at Arieel, not liking her demanding tone. “I said there are no ships for hire. What more do you need to know—”
Immediately, all six boxes began to wail again, this time at a level that even sent Adam scrambling to cover his ears. The Armplanese began to claw at their boxes, unable to turn them off or to rip them from their clothing.
And then silence once again.
“What ships are in port?” Arieel asked again. This time all eyes fell on the tiny alien, terror filling the eyes of the Armplanese.
The first aggressive alien’s eyes grew wide, looking at Arieel. “You are her!” he shouted, pointing. “You are the Speaker Arieel Bol.”
The rest of them suddenly sent laser-like glares at Arieel. “Thirty million credits just walked into our hut,” one of the others whispered. And then forgetting all about the screeching that had come from their comm units, they began to close in.
Having been ignored by the aliens long enough, Adam stepped forward sent a right cross into the ribcage of the nearest alien; he had to go for the ribcage because the alien’s head was too tall for him to reach. The blow to the ribs, however, did the trick. The sound of breaking bone could be heard clearly, and the unfortunate creature doubled over in pain, letting out an incredibly loud scream in his own right.