The Human Chronicles Saga : Boxset #2 (The Human Chronicles Saga Boxsets)
Page 89
Yet as the cab approached the Pegasus, Adam found that for the second day in a row a crowd had formed around the ship, but this time they looked angry. Adam paid the cabbie—who wisely made a quick exit before becoming associated with the strange alien and his even stranger starship.
Adam pressed his way through the throng of Vicorean natives, emerging near his ship before any of them could associate him with the vessel.
“Are you the Lord of this craft?” one of the natives finally asked. The crowd began to close in on him.
“I am. What’s the problem?”
“That!” the native answered, pointing a finger toward the Pegasus.
Yet it wasn’t the ship the alien was pointing to, but rather the three unconscious Vicoreans lying on the concrete near the shiny silver hull. Adam walked over to the bodies; the crowd followed, but then began to lag back as they neared the ship. He knelt down and checked the pulse of the three creatures.
“They’re alive, just stunned.”
“Your ship did this to them. You could have killed them,” another of the Vicoreans scolded.
Adam stood and turned to the crowd. “Then they should have left my ship alone. I warned you yesterday that something like this could happen. And don’t get all worked up about it; it’s just a simple electrical charge running through the hull to keep people from getting too nosy.”
The confused looks on the faces of the aliens told him that the word nosy hadn’t translated very well. The translation bugs back home had nearly twenty years of assimilating Human slang and nuance in their database, but not so here. This was would be like starting all over again.
“Nosy—it means they shouldn’t have been probing around my ship. It’s private property. I employed the electric charge simply as a security feature. You can take your friends away for care; it’s safe to approach. They’ll be okay after a few minutes.”
The crowd began to gain more courage now that they knew what they were up against. Using the Artificial Telepathy Device he had implanted under his right armpit, Adam gained access to his ship’s computer system and shut off the electrical charge permeating the hull of the Pegasus. Next he sent a mental command for the side hatch to unlock. He moved toward the entrance.
And that’s when three of the Vicorean males moved up behind him. Sensing their presence, Adam turned to face the angry natives.
“What do you guys have in mind?” he asked. “Are you looking for a fight?”
“You are a foreigner to Vicor, and you bring a strange starship with a harmful and indiscriminate security feature. You are from the T.G., that much is obvious. Why do you come all this way to Tanic? We do not need anything you have to offer. And your kind will only come here to dominate and suppress.”
Adam took a step closer to the leader of the trio. “All I came for are power-modules, and once I have them, I’ll be on my way. Now, I’m sorry about your friends, but they brought the trouble upon themselves, just as you’re about to.”
All three of the natives wore flash weapons in holsters around their slender waists; on frontier worlds like this one the practice was common. However, it was obvious the natives preferred to use physical force on Adam, figuring that the much smaller, near-hairless creature wouldn’t be much of a challenge, and especially not against three of them.
That was just the beginning of an unfortunate series of events all three would soon come to regret.
Two of the Vicoreans lunged at Adam from opposite sides, grabbing at his arms, while the leader reached for Adam’s weapon. The Human spun to his left, easily breaking the grips on his arms, while also landing his right elbow hard across the face of the attacker in front of him. The leader dropped like a rock, while his two companions tried in vain to find another handhold on the slippery alien.
By this time, Adam was both bored and pissed off at the same time. He caught the left arm of his nearest opponent and swept it under his right armpit, and then he jerked upward. The cracking of bone was audible, as was the guttural scream from the native. Adam shoved the writhing attacker aside, while dispatching the remaining Vicorean with a lightning fast left cross to the alien’s long snout. Nothing fancy, just a knockout blow that left the rest of the crowd shocked into silence and inaction. At least for a moment, until one of the Vicoreans in the crowd began to draw his weapon.
Adam was on him in a heartbeat, his own weapon drawn and placed squarely in the face of the native, even before the rat-creature’s own weapon had cleared its holster.
A tense moment passed as Adam waited to see if the Vicorean would continue to draw his weapon. The native’s hand still held firm onto the grip.
“That would be a major mistake, my friend,” Adam said. The cold, hard barrel of the MK-17 pressed firmly against his head served to convince the native that Adam was serious. The Vicorean released the weapon. Now Adam grinned and used his free hand to disarm the native. “You don’t mind if I hold onto this for a while, do you?”
The native shook his head vigorously. Good, Adam thought, at least that gesture is universal around here.
Adam backed away, watching the crowd with his own MK still held at the ready. Many had begun to move away, figuring that even though they were upset about their friends, they weren’t that upset to risk the wrath of this dangerous little alien.
Adam was glad to see calm return to the crowd, yet he also knew this was just the beginning. Even as others came up to help their injured comrades to safety he knew a call would be made to the local police force. With his ship sitting idle waiting for the new energy modules to arrive, all he could do was deal with the consequences as they came.
Damn aliens, Adam thought. Can’t they tell Humans are peace-loving creatures—except when provoked. So why do they always go around provoking us?
Adam entered the Pegasus and locked the hatch. Feeling frustrated and depressed, he moved to the bridge and lowered the front reentry shield from the viewport. He could see the entrance to spaceport, and now all he could do was wait to see which came first—either Nurick with his energy modules or the local police, who would be all huffy and belligerent since they would have heard only one side of the story.
This was his first real planetfall in over seven months, and in less than twenty-four hours he’d had to put an alien merchant in his place, send knockout blows to three more and threaten to blow the head off of another. Sadly, this was par for the course for Adam Cain and his interactions with aliens.
With that thought in mind, Adam went to the food processor and called up the closest thing to an IPA beer he could manage, and then ensconced in the padded command seat on the bridge, he made quick work of the drink. Staring out the viewport, he knew it would take at least a second beer—and possibly a third—before he’d begin to relax.
He didn’t have time for any hassles with the local police, and if Nurick could get here before they did, Adam could use the four modules he already had to jump off the planet, even without installing the new mods. He wouldn’t be fast, but it would be enough to get him away from here.
From what little he knew of the LMC and its territorial divisions, Vicor was an isolated planet whose jurisdiction ran out to wherever the natives felt was needed. He was hoping they wouldn’t care that much to pursue him very far. And if he did get the time to install the full array of eight focusing rings while on Vicor, then there would be nothing in this galaxy that could catch him.
After returning to the chair with another beer—and a spare—he began to catalog the scant intelligence he was working on with regards to his mission.
Once the Juireans had used their not-so-subtle interrogation techniques on Kroekus, the former Expansion Administrator had provided as much information as he had about the LMC and McCarthy. Now the fat Silean was vacationing in a Juirean prison somewhere, having taken the greatest fall from grace of any living creature; from leader of an entire galaxy, to now a broken and disgraced convict whose days were numbered.
And Adam had liked th
e fat criminal mastermind. He’d known him for over fifteen years, and they’d had many a dealing in the past, both in Adam’s role as a hired assassin, as well as a leader of the resistance against the Juirean Expansion. Yet when it was revealed that Kroekus had been the mastermind behind the battle of the Dysion Void—between the Humans, Juireans, Kracori and Klin—he ceased being a friend. Unfortunately, his co-conspirator, Nigel McCarthy, had fled the galaxy before the shit really hit the fan.
Kroekus hadn’t been so lucky.
Even though he was directly responsible for the destruction of entire planets, Adam was still in awe of the Silean’s accomplishments, be they good or bad. He had even managed to expand his ambitions to another galaxy.
More correctly, it had been Kroekus’s ancestors who had first initiated the ties with the Cloud, trading Juirean and Formilian technology in return for astronomical profit. This began in the days when a journey to the Cloud took ten years—one way. But even then, for the right price they had been able to find crews for their merchant ships and had laid the groundwork for the Silean’s planned move to the small sister galaxy of the Milky Way as a way to avoid prosecution for his criminal activities.
Unfortunately for Kroekus, Adam had interrupted his plans.
But now with the concentrated-array gravity-drive, a journey to the Cloud could be made in as little as nine months. Adam was sure the impact on both galaxies would be profound from this breakthrough in propulsion technology.
The CA drive had only been around for a little over two years, but already a literal parade of merchants, military and rogues of all kinds were heading for the virgin territory that the Cloud offered. It was like the California Gold Rush all over again, only on galactic-strength steroids. Some came with good intentions; most did not. And knowing Nigel McCarthy as he did, Adam knew that the huge Brit wouldn’t settle for anything less than complete domination of the small galaxy and all its criminal activities.
To that end, Kroekus had provided Nigel with three CA-equipped starships, along with a hundred Human volunteers. He had weapons, he had cargo holds full of precious metals, and he had a small army of Human supermen—which Adam knew was the most dangerous thing the unsuspecting natives of the Cloud had to fear, even if they wouldn’t realize it until it was too late.
Kroekus had provided McCarthy with names, locations and other insider information that would make his takeover of the galaxy that much easier. According to Kroekus, his main contact was a creature named Alic Kiran, who the Sileans had made the most-powerful being in the galaxy through his monopoly on Milky Way technology. And even though that monopoly would now be threatened by the flood of others coming to the Cloud, it was Nigel McCarthy who Alic should fear the most. McCarthy knew everything about Alic that Kroekus did, yet the unsuspecting alien knew nothing of McCarthy, except that he was an associate of Kroekus’s.
Adam knew Alic’s location, so he knew where McCarthy would be. Unfortunately, the former SAS officer had a two month head-start on him. And if Adam did get bogged down in legal troubles here on Vicor, then that would give McCarthy even more time to make his move and secure his position. Already he was looking at confronting not only McCarthy, but also his entire Human contingent. Adam didn’t fear the aliens; he’d been able to handle them without too much trouble in the past. However, it had always been members of his own race that posed the greatest challenge for him.
But now with three beers in his belly, Adam was thinking his luck may be changing, as a two-truck caravan entered the spaceport and headed his way. This would be Nurick with his power-modules. Another few hours and Adam would be off this stinking planet and back in the hunt for Nigel McCarthy.
“This calls for another beer,” he said out loud—as usual. “Hell, this day may turn out okay after all.”
As was so often the case, he spoke too soon.
135
“Nurick, my alien buddy!” Adam said as he half stumbled out of the Pegasus. Three beers on an empty stomach—and working on a fourth—were having their effect.
“I am not the alien here—”
“Yeah, I know, sorry about that; old habits. Can I get you a beer?”
“That translates as an intoxicant. I would prefer to conclude our transaction first, since there has been talk that you have caused more trouble while where.”
“Damn, dude, you do have big ears, don’t you?” He laughed when he saw Nurick’s long, pointy ears flutter. “That’s so cool; Jym had ears like yours, too.”
Nurick made a rat-like frown. “Please show me where to unload the modules. And I will need payment once the installation is complete.” Four other Vicoreans stood by the trucks, waiting for the go ahead.
“Of course; I just unlocked the aft loading bay. It’s small but it’s just around the port chem-landing tube. Follow me inside and I’ll get your cash.”
Nurick nodded to his crew and they set to work offloading the modules. The merchant then followed Adam into the Pegasus. Adam’s ship was a hundred and fifty feet long and shaped like the fuselage of a conventional airplane from Earth, with two small wings extending to each side, along with a pair of hefty-looking tubes below the wings containing the chemical-assist launch and landing engines. There were only four portholes along the length of the ship—two on each side—other than the forward viewport on the bridge. The ship had a small galley and dining area, two full staterooms, an aft cargo bay, and two storage holds—port and starboard—between the rocket engines and the body of the ship. The two holds had once been crammed full of all the provisions he needed for the prolonged mission in the Cloud, which now were nearly depleted—everything except his gold.
Adam led Nurick down the central passageway to the starboard cargo hold. Once inside, he pulled back a tarp to reveal the pile of brass-colored metal ingots, each weighing five pounds.
Adam noticed the startled look on Nurick’s face. “Impressive, isn’t it—but don’t get any ideas.”
“Why am I not allowed to have ideas?”
“I mean don’t get any ideas about stealing this gold from me.”
“I had no such thoughts. I have also witnessed personally what you are capable of, as have others, if the reports are true.”
“They started it! I just want people to leave my ship alone. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“Two of the Vicoreans you hit have been seriously injured, and one of the others struck by the electrical charge from your ship is also suffering a longer recovery than the others.” Nurick looked past Adam at the pile of gold. “I would suggest we conclude our business promptly.”
“Right on.” Adam began to count out thirteen of the ingots—he’d give Nurick a one-pound tip over the settled price of sixty-four pounds.
“I have a testing device with me,” said Nurick. The price I agreed upon—reluctantly—was for the purest quality gold.”
“I only have 24-carat,” Adam said.
“I do not know what that means, yet my device will be able to determine quality in a matter of seconds.”
“Go for it.” Adam stepped aside to give Nurick access to the pile. The Vicorean hesitated slightly before stepping forward, unsure of the translation of ‘go for it.’ But then he produced a small device about the size of a pack of cigarettes and swept it across the nearest ingot. He then proceeded to scan several others at random throughout the pile before reading the meter.
“Yes, this is indeed top-purity metal. I will accept your payment.”
“Groovy!”
Nurick’s eyes just blinked several times. “I will go supervise the loading and installation of the modules and then return to the forward section of your ship to collect payment. I may need assistance moving this much gold to my transports.”
“Sure thing, I’ll have it on the bridge.”
Nurick moved aft and entered the cargo bay from inside the ship, while Adam carried the sixty-five pounds of gold forward to the bridge. On Vicor, the gold weighed approximately fifty pounds instead of six
ty-five, so he was glad they went by volume here and not by weight. Even then, the fifty pounds of metal would be too much for the Vicorean to carry by himself.
As Adam entered the bridge, with his hands overburdened by the thirteen ingots of gold, he found he was suddenly face-to-face with four other Vicoreans, all wearing dark blue uniforms.
There was an awkward moment of silence as Human and aliens stared at each other, with the Vicoreans also eyeing the gold Adam held cradled in his arms.
A Vicorean with a white sash across his chest spoke first. “You are the Lord of this ship,” he stated. “We are here in response to a report of physical violence you perpetrated on citizens of Vicor. That is a very serious charge, especially when caused by an alien.”
“I was defending myself that was all. Can I set this down?”
Without waiting for permission, Adam forced his way through the four native police officers and set the gold on the counter of the ship’s comm station. He turned back to the police. “I was attacked by an angry mob who was upset about the security measures I took to protect my ship. Mind if I have another beer?”
Adam once again moved between the bewildered rat-like creatures and got another IPA out of the processing unit. He took a long gulp of the potent beverage.
“I don’t drink that much anymore, but damn, this sure tastes good right about now.”
“It may not be wise for you to engage in the consumption of an intoxicant as you answer to the charges brought against you. As I said, this a very serious matter and should be treated as such.”
“I know it is; that’s why I drink.” Adam let loose with a full tooth grin before he thought better of it. The widening red eyes of the four native police officials brought Adam back to his senses.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean anything with the whole teeth-baring thing.”