The Human Chronicles Saga : Boxset #2 (The Human Chronicles Saga Boxsets)

by T. R. Harris

  Kaylor attempted a smile. “Yes, Ruszel, I too, have had experience with the Humans, and far more than you. They are often misunderstood and frequently underestimated. Yet I have found that they often do the things they do because they have been forced to, not because they want to.”

  “In the end, that does not matter—”

  “We are wasting time, Kaylor!” Jym suddenly shouted, while lifting a heavy metal lamp and holding it threateningly in Ruszel’s direction. “Let us just take him!”

  Stunned only momentarily, Ruszel stretched out a wide grin. “Put that down,” he ordered. “You are now threatening me within my own residence.” His expression turned more serious as he looked back to Kaylor and withdrew the MK-17 flash weapon from its holster around his waist. “In light of your companion’s rude behavior, I believe I will rescind my offer of charts and other assistance and insist that you both leave immediately. I will have my guards escort you off my property.”

  Kaylor remained seated, with a calm unconcerned expression on his face. He slowly nodded. “I agree,” he said, rising to his feet. Ruszel stood as well, a smug look on his face with the weapon still aimed squarely at Kaylor’s chest. “I agree,” he repeated. “We must take him now; we have no more time to waste.”

  The comment caught Ruszel off guard. “The two of you are crazy; I will call my guards and be within my rights to shoot you down where you stand.”

  “Take your weapon, Jym, and stand by the door. I’ll release the lock when you are ready.”

  Ruszel’s mouth fell open as his eyes grew wide. He watched in horror as Kaylor turned his back on him and went to stand at the end of the long sofa where Ruszel had been sitting. “Call your guards now.” Kaylor commanded.

  “Did you not hear me? I said I could kill you myself … and I would be within my rights.”

  Kaylor turned and took a step closer to the pilot. Ruszel raised the flash weapon, pointing it directly at Kaylor’s face. “Go ahead then, kill me,” Kaylor said calmly.

  Anger flared up in Ruszel. He squeezed the grip of the handgun even tighter, yet he did not pull the trigger.

  “Do it!” Kaylor yelled, taking another step closer.

  Finally, Ruszel fingered the trigger, and as Kaylor was expecting, nothing happened.

  A look of utter shock crossed Ruszel’s face. He began to finger the trigger even more until he pulled the weapon back and checked the battery level. It was full.

  Kaylor had had enough. He stepped forward and pulled the MK-17 from Ruszel’s now weakened grip. He expertly twisted the weapon around in his hand until he held it firmly. Next he pointed it at a faraway wall and pulled the trigger.

  The now fully-operational flash weapon discharged a bright ball of blue-white electricity, illuminating the room and slashing against the target wall with a sharp crack. He then turned the MK back on the pilot.

  There was banging on the main door to the great room, a door that Kaylor had locked with the help of his ATD as soon as they had entered. A faint click was now heard as Kaylor released the lock with a command of his mind.

  A flood of Tel’oran guards poured into the room. These were skilled operatives, and not simply armed starship pilots. They acquired targets for their weapons almost immediately—and suffered the same shock and confusion as Ruszel had when their MK’s failed to launch.

  Jym swung the heavy metal lamp down on the arm of the nearest guard, dislodging his weapon. He then scooped up the gun and pointed it at the handful of guards approaching him. They didn’t hesitate, fully convinced that their weapons were inert—for some strange reason. Jym pointed the gun upwards and launched a bolt into the ceiling. The guards stopped in their tracks.

  Having seen Jym’s weapon discharge, most of the guards now resumed the futile triggering of their own weapons once again. Finally, realizing that Kaylor and Jym had the only two working MK’s in the room, the guards dejectedly lowered their weapons and stood waiting for commands from the two intruders.

  Kaylor turned to Ruszel. “Most structures like these have some sort of secure room, where valuables are stored, or as safe place against intruders.”

  “Are you really here to rob me?”

  “No, of course not,” Kaylor said. “It is just that we need to have a safe place to lock away your guards so we can get away. Otherwise we will have to kill them all.”

  A nervous murmur spread through the ranks of the guards, along with the old pilot Kankus.

  “I would prefer not to have to do that.”

  “I say kill them, kill them all so they won’t talk or follow us!” little Jym said while pointing his weapon up at the head of the nearest guard. The towering Tel’oran backed away in fear; Kaylor saw the look of unbridled satisfaction cross Jym’s face. He was finally having his moment....

  “I have such a room,” Ruszel said in a panic. “In fact, I have many such rooms in this large estate. Please do not kill my guards.” He then locked his eyes on Kankus, who was cowering towards the back of the crowd of bodyguards. “Kankus you can kill ... for bringing the two of you into my home. I would feel no regret about that!”

  “We’re not going to kill anyone,” Kaylor said, beginning to grow annoyed that the situation had come down to talk of mass murder, “. . . unless we have to. Now Ruszel, please lead us to these rooms, rooms large enough to accommodate all your bodyguards—and Kankus.”

  Half an hour later, after locking the guards away in a large room with food and water to last for three days, Kaylor, Ruszel, as well as an immensely pleased-with-himself Jym, were back in the transport and heading for the spaceport two hours away.

  “You know you cannot force me to help you,” Ruszel said.

  Kaylor smiled. “You are right. We cannot force you, but I’m sure Adam Cain will.”

  “Adam Cain? He is the one the message I relayed was intended for. It is he who is leading the rescue effort?”

  “That is correct. And you would be wise not to anger that particular Human. He almost single-handily brought down the entire Juirean Expansion and now has the Kracori race—as well as your Nebula—fearing for its very survival.”

  “And you said Riyad was a dangerous savage,” Jym chimed in. “Well, it was Adam Cain who taught him all he knows about being dangerous. Resist at your own peril, Ruszel, but soon you will find that resistance is futile.”

  84

  Formilian ships were common at the major spaceports on Tel’or, having supplied the Juddle Nebula with advanced electronic devices for over two hundred years. So when the Formilian spaceship dropped down among the myriad of other craft in the spaceport, no one paid it any undue attention. In fact, the spaceport was a beehive of activity, with hundreds of vessels coming and going—mainly going—with looks of concern painted on the faces of the dozens of species frequenting the grounds.

  Adam felt good stepping out onto the surface of a planet after thirty days in space. The gravity of Tel’or was Juirean-standard, placing it at about point seventy-five that of Earth; the air was warm and rich in oxygen, although laced with a strong trace of chemical propellant here in the spaceport. Adam didn’t mind; he took in the wide open sky and sweeping views before being approached by a slender creature with prominent blues veins threading his thin, white skin and two dangling appendages below each ear.

  “Kaylor, my friend, it’s good to see you again,” Adam said, stretching out a grin while keeping his teeth covered with his lips.

  “The same, Adam,” Kaylor said, although his expression displayed more concern than joy.

  Adam picked up on the expression. “Any luck in finding Ruszel?” he asked, expecting the worst.

  “Oh, yes, that has been accomplished. He is with Jym now in the Pegasus.”

  “Then why the gloomy face?”

  “The pilot says that the Kracori have revealed themselves to the Nebula and are now seeking allies against any attacks.”

  “Does he know about the Juireans?”

  “No, he—they—are still exp
ecting the Humans to strike first.”

  Adam looked around at the various aliens beginning to move within his landing zone now that the ship had come to a rest. With a high hood draped over his short crop of blond hair, he wondered how many of them would even recognize a Human if they saw one? None seemed to be paying them any attention. “Kroekus told me the same. Do you know if Tel’or is one of their allies?”

  “Not yet, according to Ruszel, but the trend appears to be in that direction. It is best that we depart Tel’or as quickly as possible.”

  Adam took Kaylor by the arm and pulled him over next to the still warm and creaking hull of the Formilian ship. “Something’s come up, Kaylor, something that will require you and Jym to stay here for the time being.”

  Kaylor’s eyes grew wide. “We are not to accompany you and Ruszel?”

  “Kroekus has arranged for other passage, and with an informant who has been to Elision. He has a ship and access codes to get us to the surface.”

  “So you do not need Ruszel? We did all this for nothing!”

  “Not for nothing; I haven’t met this informant yet nor verified his information. Ruszel—along with you and Jym—will serve as a backup in case anything goes wrong.”

  “So we stay on Tel’or ... and wait?”

  “Only for a few days.”

  “And we keep Ruszel a prisoner for that time?”

  “Prisoner?”

  “Yes, he did not come voluntarily.”

  Adam smiled. So the two passive aliens had come through in a pinch—more-than-likely the result of their ATD’s. “Good work, Kaylor. I would have preferred that he came voluntarily, but under the circumstances, you did great.”

  Kaylor was unaccepting of the compliment. “But we want to contribute to the rescue efforts, and with Tel’or about to align with the Kracori, it may be more dangerous to remain here.”

  Kaylor had a point, Adam thought. The Pegasus was a unique ship, one that would evoke suspicion if the natives began to look for Human sympathizers.

  “Fine. Launch in the Pegasus, but only shadow us. Wait on this side of the Dysion Shield and only come through if we need you.” He placed a hand on the shoulder of the alien he’d known the longest. “Just having you watching my back will give me a lot of comfort. And with the reckless nature of this operation, you’re just the contingency we may need.”

  “I still do not like it,” Kaylor said. “With our ATD’s, Jym and I are potent fighters as well.”

  “I know you are,” Adam said, “and that’s why I feel better with you and Jym covering us. Now go back to the Pegasus and wait for my signal. I don’t know anything about this new ship the team will be transferring to, or about the informant, so I don’t want anyone outside the team to know about you and Jym—and Ruszel.”

  Adam smiled even wider as a thought crossed his mind. “So, Ruszel put up a fight? How did you convince him to come along?”

  “It was all Jym,” Kaylor answered, his face displaying even more concern than before. “I believe we have created a monster.”

  85

  The informant’s ship was located at another spaceport on the opposite side of Saf’in. Adam left the Formilians aboard their ship and took Sherri and Andy Tobias with him for the first meeting.

  In all the chaos of the spaceports—understandable now from what Kaylor had told him—it took Adam longer than he’d planned to locate the informant’s ship. Already frustrated, he did a quick walk-around of the huge ship—probably the largest he’d ever seen capable of a planetary landing. The ship had a huge landing bay hatch, and according to Kroekus carried two shuttles and a number of escape pods. Next to the large bay hatch was a smaller access door with a monitor set off to one side within the hull. Adam touched the screen and a message instantly appeared.

  Welcome Adam Cain, the message read. Then it continued to scroll down. Please enter alone and leave your weapons with your companions. Because of the delicate position I am in, I wish our first meeting to be private and secure. Please comply. You are being monitored.

  Adam looked at Sherri and Andy and raised his eyebrows. “Cautious bastard, isn’t he?”

  “He’s probably risking a lot by helping us,” Sherri said by way of an explanation.

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is.” Adam handed his MK-17 to Andy Tobias. “I detect a supply of power packs, but none are attached to flash weapons.”

  “You can tell that?” Andy asked. “Damn, I’ve still got a whole lot to learn about my thingumajig. Can you detect that, Sherri?”

  Sherri scrunched up her face. “Yeah, Andy, I can. Sorry.”

  “No worries; I guess it is hard to teach an old dog new tricks.”

  “I’m going in,” Adam stated as the door slid aside. “You both should be able to link with me if I call. Stay alert.”

  “Aye aye, sir!” Sherri said, snapping off a sloppy Boy Scout-type salute, the one with the thumb tucked into the palm—which was not an official military salute.

  Assuming his host would be on the bridge, Adam proceeded along a wide corridor forward from the hanger bay access airlock. He had noticed the wide bank of viewports at the forward section of the elongated spaceship and knew that if he just kept moving in that direction he would eventually reach the bridge. The spaceship was a good three-hundred feet long and half that wide, about the size of football field, and he crossed through several large intersections along the central corridor, although he didn’t take the time to investigate what lay beyond the dozen of hatches and doorways he passed. If the informant passed the test, then he would have plenty of time for exploration.

  The central corridor did indeed end at the bridge, announced by a wide portal in the forward bulkhead, its double doors already open.

  The lights on the bridge were dimmed and the blast shield was down, and it took Adam a moment for his eyes to adjust. The room was like most starship bridges, with consoles lining three walls, a three-window array of viewports forward and two pilot seats just below the ports with a command chair located behind the pilots. This ship was large enough to have separate pilots and a commander, rather than like the Pegasus where the commander was often the pilot as well.

  There was a figure in the command chair, and as Adam approached, the chair began to swivel around.

  Adam nearly fainted as the light from the outer corridor painted the features of the person in the chair. It was Nigel McCarthy.

  Instinctively, Adam reached for his weapon, but found his holster empty. Frozen for the moment, he saw a .45 semi-automatic held firmly in McCarthy’s grip, aimed at Adam’s midsection.

  “I thought you were dead!” Adam blurted out.

  Nigel smiled—a wide, toothy grin on his pale, freckled face. “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

  Adam opened his mouth to speak again, yet only an incoherent jumble of syllables escaped.

  “Please, Adam, take a seat. We have much to discuss ... before we begin our next adventure together.”

  “We’re not doing shit together!” Adam managed to finally say.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, mate, if you ever expect to get Tarazi out of a Kracori prison before the Juireans attack.”

  Adam was shocked at the vast amount of classified information contained in that one sentence. He looked at the gun, and then into Nigel’s eyes. The Brit had an expression like that of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. Adam knew that McCarthy had designed this encounter to carry the most shock, and like most of the Englishman’s tactics, it was working.

  Adam took a deep breath, then moved past the command chair and fell heavily into one of the pilot seats. The chair was wide and soft, signifying that the beings who built the ship were larger than Humans. Nigel turned his chair to face Adam.

  “Let’s begin by getting one thing straight, Mr. Cain: I am not your enemy, not anymore—”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Please let me finish. I know we have had our differences in the past—”

  “Yo
u killed Lee ... and probably Dawson, too, now that I think about it. That’s more than simply differences.”

  “That was another time, with different objectives. It was never personal, Captain. I have actually always considered you an admirable challenger—a competitor if you will—rather than my enemy.”

  “Not for me, dickhead. You are my enemy, and always have been. So you didn’t die on the Phoenix? That lying bastard, Henderson.”

  “Oh, don’t blame him. He left the ship just as the Kracori were attacking,” McCarthy said. “He saw the ship explode and thought I was still onboard.” He smiled even wider. “Obviously I wasn’t.”

  “So you lived, and somehow you’re here aboard this ship. What’s your involvement with this informant of Kroekus’s? Have you killed him, too?”

  “Of course not, Captain. I am the informant.”

  Adam’s jaw fell open. “You’re working with Kroekus?”

  Nigel nodded.

  “He didn’t tell me.”

  “We both decided it would be best if he didn’t. Just think what your reaction would have been if he had? We need each other, Adam, whether you want to admit it or not.”

  “What do you mean? How are you involved in Riyad’s rescue?”

  “Well, first of all mate, I’m the one who told Kroekus about the Juireans. It’s because of me that you even know of the timeline you have to work with on this operation. And secondly, I have been to Elision. You know this; I spent seven fucking years there. And as far as I can tell, I’m the only one of your team who has.”

  Adam bit his bottom lip, begrudgingly admitting to himself that McCarthy was right. “Kroekus said the informant—you—have access codes ... and that you know where Riyad’s being held.”

  “That’s right. As special forces yourself, you know I couldn’t just sit on my arse all that time and not do some snooping around. I know the lay of the land, and long before I escaped the planet, I acquired a wealth of intel regarding planetary ingress and egress, defensive fortifications, industrial complex ... and where all high-valued detainees are held.”