by T. R. Harris
As they approached the crest of the small hill overlooking the landing zone, Adam forced Nurick to the ground and they both crawled up and peered over the top. Sure enough, two dark-hulled, elongated starships sat off to the left, in a field about a hundred yards from the Pegasus. The short, dry grass surrounding the ships was still burning from the chemical landings, yet the small wildfire was beginning to burn itself out before reaching the nearest grove of oak trees.
There were about a dozen Vicoreans surrounding the Pegasus, whose main side hatch was open.
“They’re not wearing police—Enforcer—uniforms.”
Nurick squinted, appearing to have trouble making out details on his fellow Vicoreans below them. They may be fast, but they have crappy eyesight, Adam thought.
“That is because they are clansmons.”
“What are clansmons?”
Nurick looked over at him and frowned. “Members of a clan,” he answered, while diplomatically leaving off the punctuating ‘stupid’ after the word clan.
“Okay, I got that,” said a testy Adam Cain, “but what clan? These Polimors you mentioned?”
Nurick squinted back down the hill, but this time toward the two dark spaceships. “Yes, which I see now would make sense.”
“Explain.”
“Polimors are in direct competition with the Kiran Clan as purveyors of advance technology, particularly from the Silean Galaxy. Apparently news of your ship has filtered to them.”
“But these guys are Vicoreans.”
“These are, yet the Polimors are made up of dozens of races.” Nurick narrowed his beady eyes at Adam. “You have much to learn of Tanic. The Clans are not of planetary origin yet are a form of affiliation between many species. They exist for the common benefit of the Clan, based upon the Clan’s area of expertise and dominance. The largest and most powerful specialize in manufacturing, and mainly of vital technology and equipment necessary to sustain Tanic’s ability to interact across light-years, both through propulsion devices and communications. There are none larger than the Kiran Clan, yet the Polimors hope to one day remedy that.”
“That’s all very interesting, Nurick, but what are they going to do with my ship?”
“I imagine they will take it to learn of its secrets. The first Clan to do so will reap the profits, and the Polimors have been competing—fruitlessly—with Alic Kiran and his ancestors for a very long time. I am sure they see your ship as a chance to gain the advantage.”
Alic Kiran was the clan leader Nigel McCarthy was to meet—and replace, if possible. If he managed to do that—to the point where he controlled the most-vital and in-demand products in the galaxy—then the difficulty of Adam’s mission would increase exponentially.
And yet Adam’s most pressing issue was to keep the aliens from taking the Pegasus. Without his ship, he was royally screwed.
Adam reached out with his Artificial Telepathy Device and interfaced with the ship’s computer system. The signal that came back was weak yet readable, since the distance to the Pegasus was right at the ATD’s half-mile limit.
He accessed the various monitoring cameras located throughout the ship, concentrating on the two on the bridge. There were three Vicoreans in the room, with one sitting in his pilot’s seat and manipulating the main computer. That was something Adam couldn’t abide, so he sent a command to shut down and lock the ship’s computer system, and to remain so until Adam sent a special unlock code. He used the code 1225, for Christmas Day—he always like Christmastime.
With the cameras still functioning, he watched as the aliens panicked when the computer suddenly went dark. The leader of the group came onto the bridge and began yelling while holding what Adam could see was a bar of his precious gold. The alien set the gold on the console and proceeded to verbally tear into the Vicorean seated at the pilot’s station.
“A safety feature may have been triggered when I went to engage the generators,” he said in his defense. “Most functions are now locked, except for basic systems such as lights and life support, as evidenced by the atmosphere still circulating from the vents.”
The commander turned from the pilot and stared out the forward viewport. “Return to the K-92 and request a hauler. This ship is small enough to be hoisted into space. After that we will tow it to Ralic-Sim. I am not about to leave it here before we learn of its secrets.”
The other alien nodded curtly and then exited the ship.
Adam leaned over closer to Nurick. “Where is Ralic-Sim?”
The question caught the Vicorean off guard. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Never mind. Have you heard of it?”
“Of course. It is the central processing center for the Polimors.”
“Where is it?”
“Gof Sector, this side of the Krinus Nebula.”
“I have no idea where any of those places are.”
“About six hundred light-years from here.”
“Shit!” Adam grunted.
“How inappropriate. If you must, then please keep it private.”
From the intensity he had been surveying the field below Adam was at a loss as to what Nurick meant; however, when it finally dawned on him, he knew he had had enough.
“It’s an expression, not a literal translation. Now…will you please shut up and stop commenting on every little thing I say.”
Nurick scrunched up his face. “Forgive me then for simply trying to comprehend your strange manner of speaking. Language on Vicor is much more precise and structure—”
Adam reached over and clamped a strong hand around Nurick’s snout, cutting him off in mid-word. The Vicorean tried to pull away, but Adam wouldn’t let go. “I told you to be quiet.”
Nurick mumbled something.
“What?”
He repeated the mumble. Adam released him.
“I said, so to be quiet is what is meant by the term shut up. Why did you not just say—”
Adam glared at the alien with such fiery intensity that this time Nurick did shut up. Even if he hadn’t, their attention was soon diverted to the sound of another starship vectoring in for a chemical landing near the other two dark ships. This one, however, had a shiner hull and was about a third smaller than the other two. This couldn’t possibly be the hauler the others had called in. It was much too small to lift the Pegasus.
Adam pursed his lips in frustration. At one point, he’d almost been willing to take on the twenty or so aliens milling around his ship, just to keep them from taking the Pegasus. Now there would be even more to contend with.
It was only a matter of minutes before the hatch on the new starship cracked open and two additional Vicoreans stepped out of the shiny ship. They wore blue uniforms with white sashes.
“It is the Enforcers!” Nurick said, much too loudly for Adam’s comfort.
“Quiet or they’ll hear you.” Just as he spoke the words, Adam saw a look of deep concentration fill Nurick’s eyes.
Oh no, he can’t be thinking—
Nurick suddenly jumped up, standing at his full height on top of the ridge, waving his arms and yelling.
Adam lashed out with his left arm, sweeping Nurick’s legs out from under him. Even on the ground, the alien continued to yell, so Adam grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him backwards, sending him rolling down the gentle slope of the hill.
Adam was on him before he stopped tumbling. “I warned you, Nurick,” he said as he sat down heavily on the alien’s chest.
“Please let me go. Without a ship, the project you have set for yourself cannot possibly be accomplished. It is hopeless. I am sure even you cannot best thirty or so Vicoreans, especially seeing that you have no weapon upon you. You should surrender now, before further resistance costs you your life. I will put in a good explanation of events on your behalf. Just do not let this escalate further.”
“No one’s surrendering, and I’m not letting you go.”
“I will only cause problems at every turn, unless you let me
go.”
Adam placed a hand on Nurick’s throat. “Remember the grip I had on your hand? Well this will be ten times worse.”
Nurick’s eyes grew wide as Adam tightened his grip. “Please do not,” the alien pleaded. “All I was trying to do is use logic to convince you. I see now that logic does not apply in this situation.”
“Now you’re learning.” Adam dragged the Vicorean back up the hill. The two Enforcers were no longer in sight, so Adam once again linked with the cameras aboard the Pegasus and found them inside, along with the leader of the Security Force.
“But this is within our jurisdiction,” the lead Enforcer was saying.
“Agreed; so take the pilot and your traitor and return them to Vicor. They are somewhere near. Yet the ship is not part of the crime. It comes with us.”
“And the gold?”
Adam saw the Polimor clansmon grin. “It is cargo, and again, not part of the crime. However,” he reached over and took a small stack of the gold ingots that were on the command console and handed them to the Enforcer, “as a former Enforcer, and as a sign of goodwill and cooperation among our units, you can have these for your troubles.”
The two Enforcers looked at each other. “That is quite generous of you; however, this is such a small percentage of the total onboard.”
“You are not happy with my generosity?” asked the lead Polimor. “Perhaps I should not have offered you any—”
“No—this is quite acceptable, Captain Crous. I was merely stating a fact.”
The clansmon nodded. “I see. Then I would suggest that this bonus not show on any after-action report, since it is such a small percentage of the total that is aboard this ship. Call it an error in accounting. Such a small amount is easily within the margin of error.”
The two Enforcers set about distributing the ingots into various pockets in their uniforms. “On another matter, there are rumors that this ship employs eight focusing rings operating in unison. Since we did not observe any special abilities of the ship during our pursuit, are the rumors true?”
“It is too early to tell. A hauler will be here shortly to lift the vessel off the planet. Once it is delivered to Ralic-Sim, we will know. In any event, that is no longer a concern of the Enforcers.”
“It is our concern if it means interaction with Silea will become more frequent and pervasive.”
“We shall see. Until then, those issues are for others to debate. All I want to do is get the ship to Ralic-Sim. Now leave; I must secure the craft for the lift. Pursue your fugitives. They are without transport and are probably at this very moment hiding among the trees, observing us. They should be easy to locate, especially with the intimate knowledge we Vicorean have of Karlis. But don’t count on any assistance from the natives; in fact they may resist in your efforts, at least in regard to your apprehension of the foreigner. My clansmon are on alert for a possible infiltration of the perimeter by the ship’s owner—who I understand you Enforcers had trouble containing on Vicor. The sooner you apprehend him, the better. Now do your job and I will do mine.”
Adam rolled over on his back and stared up into the bright Karlisean sky. The Vicorean—Captain Crous—was right. They were nearby and without transport, other than their legs. And even with the advantages Adam had over the aliens in respect to strength and quickness, he couldn’t very well go up against twenty armed clansmon who were expecting him.
“When you ran off, you were headed for the town we saw from orbit, is that right?” he asked Nurick.
“Yes. I was hoping to contact the Enforcers for rescue.”
“We have to get over there, pronto. Your friends are coming for us, so we’ve gotta go.”
“Under threat of bodily harm, I will accompany you. Yet what do you hope to find in Pronto?”
“In Pronto—oh. I hope to find a ship of some kind. You’re right—without mine I have nothing. I have to get her back.”
“Yet we have no money for hire…oh, you intend to steal a vessel.”
“Now you’re catching on, Nurick. There’s hope for you after all. Now, let’s see how fast you really are. I’ll race you to…to Pronto.”
138
As Adam jogged along behind Nurick, he knew that when the Enforcers didn’t find them in the woods surrounding the Pegasus, their next logical place to look would be the town. But that was a risk he had to take. He had no idea how long it would take to get a hauler on station, and once the ship was in orbit, it would be a simple matter of either packing it in a large cargo hold or attaching grapples and towing the ship the Ralic-Sim.
Either way, Adam’s entire mission—hell his very existence in this galaxy—depended on him getting the Pegasus back. If not, then he would have to spend the rest of his life in this backwards galaxy, never to return home again. And that would suck.
More and more, Adam Cain was regretting his decision to come here in the first place. He reasoned that the lure of a galaxy, far, far away had been too much for him to resist. Now, as he ran over the hills and through the woods on a world impossibly far from his own, Adam was thinking this would be the last time he fell for the romance of some science fiction fantasy. This was real life after all, and he couldn’t afford the luxury of letting his dreams get the best of him.
Although late to the game of interstellar travel, the planet Karlis was located right in the middle of the transit lanes from Vicor to the main part of the Cloud, and so they were technologically advanced enough to have starships sitting around any decent size city, at least that’s what Nurick told him.
On their approach to the landing zone in the Pegasus, Adam and Nurick had noticed the settlement to the north, yet they hadn’t had the opportunity or inclination to determine its overall size. For all Adam knew, it could be a small, rural farming community without a single spaceship for miles around. And even if they did find a ship it had to be of a specific classification. A journey of six hundred light-years was beyond the ability of the common in-system flitter. He would have to find a merchantman—a ship capable of making long journeys—or its equivalent, if he was to recover the Pegasus.
And if he did manage to reclaim his ship, he’d be in the same boat he’d been leaving Vicor—the energy modules still weren’t fully installed. And now he’s learned the ones Nurick sold him were crap. He had to find true hybrids and get them installed before he’d have any chance of leaving this miserable chapter of his life behind.
It took about forty minutes to reach the edge of the town, and by then Adam was panting like a racehorse, while Nurick was showing no signs of fatigue. Adam may be faster, but the Vicoreans had more endurance.
They hadn’t run across any of the natives on the way here, so Adam had no idea what he’d be up against if and when the time came for him to acquire a ship, be it here or some other city on the planet.
As they drew closer to the town, they found that it wasn’t very large, a fact that worried Adam to no end. It was most comprised of familiar looking box housing units with steep roofs and separated from the others by at least half an acre, and there was only one main road from this direction running into the commercial district. Fortunately, as they crested a small hill along the road, a modest-sized city rose up in the distance, with some the buildings reaching as high as ten stories.
As Adam and Nurick walked along the main road into town, his mood brightened. There might be a spaceport nearby after all. And besides that, he had finally seen what the native Karliseans looked like.
They looked a lot like Humans.
There were differences, of course; there always were. These creatures were a little shorter than your average Human—which was unusual on a planet with a lighter gravity that Earth’s. They also had a distinct yellow hue to their skin, and not just some imaginary and derogatory label placed on some Humans by other Humans. Also their ears were quite large and fan-like. As the pair met up with more and more of the natives, Adam noticed the ears would fold back against their near-hairless skulls when not en
gaged with another yet would flick and flutter as they talked or greeted people on the street.
Even though the planet was part of a galactic network consisting of thousands of different species, Adam and Nurick still garnered their share of odd looks from the natives, causing Adam’s rollercoaster ride of emotions to drop once again. If there was a spaceport nearby, then surely the natives wouldn’t consider the sight of two aliens on their streets as all that unusual. These creatures did.
That was when Adam noticed an odd look on Nurick’s face. His eyes were wide and there was a noticeable amount of saliva drooling from his mouth.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“I am fine, just very hungry.”
That’s when Adam realized that he, too, was famished. But they didn’t have time to linger. On a more cosmopolitan world, they would be sure to find restaurants and other eateries with the proper testing equipment and processing units to accommodate off-worlders. But here, he wasn’t so sure.
“Do you have any money—credits—on you?”
“Some. Why do you ask? I surely do not have enough to hire a starship, if you have changed your mind about stealing one.”
“No, I’m thinking about food, about finding someplace where we can grab something quick. We don’t have time for a full sit-down meal.”
Nurick looked at him with a frown. “Why should we pay for a meal, when there is such a succulent feast walking along this street with us?”
Adam stopped in his tracks. “Wait…you’re talking about eating the Karliseans?”
“Yes, and they are called Josls. I imagine that is the reason they are looking odd at me. There is a history of my people with theirs—perhaps I should have told you.”
“Ya think? And this history has something to do with your people eating these people?”
“Of course; everything must feed on something else within the line of life.”