by T. R. Harris
That thought—created through the haze of excruciating pain—sent a surge of energy into his body. Adam Cain was not the type to quit, not while he still had an ounce of willpower left.
Just then someone grabbed him by the left arm. Within his blurred vision, he saw a figure and he tried to lift the SCAR to get a shot. Yet the weapon was in his right hand, which, for all intents and purposes, was useless.
So this was it; they’re upon me—
“Help me!” a voice cried out near his left ear. “You are extremely heavy. Why are you so heavy?”
The voice was that of Nurick Nur. Adam managed to laugh as he struggled to get his legs under him. He pushed up with his left leg and was soon stumbling forward toward the open hatch to the Pegasus, Nurick at his side. He fell forward through the opening and tasted the dirty floor of the entrance. Through the pain, he heard the swish of the hatch being secured.
“Can you get to the pilot’s station?” Nurick’s disembodied voice asked.
“I don’t need to,” Adam answered, his face now twisted in an agonizing grimace. “Just give me a moment.”
He rolled over onto his back and did his best to concentrate. It felt as if his whole right side was on fire, but still he found the will to access his artificial telepathy device and link with the ship’s control computer. The blurry image before his eyes was soon replaced with that of the forward view camera. What he saw through his mind’s eye was a flood of even more aliens approaching, this time with heavier vehicles. At some point the Polimors would decide it best just to disable the ship rather than let it get away. Even a dead ship could reveal her secrets, or at least most of them. He had to get off the surface.
Every interstellar starship employs internal gravity wells to produce a livable environment for its crew; the larger ships could have several operating along the length of the vessel. The Pegasus wasn’t large enough to need more than one; however because of this fact, the well had to be created about fifty feet below the bottom of the ship in order to cover the entire length. With a mental command, Adam activated the ship’s internal gravity well.
Although he couldn’t see the full the effect of his action, he knew what had just happened. A perfectly round hole, one hundred feet deep, had suddenly appeared directly under the Pegasus. Since the gravity effect on the ship was at the edge of the well’s influence fifty feet up, the well formed a complete sphere of gravity around the microscopic singularity that was created, hence the hundred foot hole.
Several of the nearby ground units were sucked into the well when it established, and the residual effects, reaching out to a thousand yards or more, were hard to ignore. Even at that distance, all objects within the well’s sphere of influence were being slowly drawn in, some faster than others. Hysteria broke out among the natives and other various alien species comprising the Polimor Clan and there was a headlong rush to get as far away from the alien spacecraft as possible.
Just then, Adam heard a powerful explosion above the Pegasus, one that shook the ground like a magnitude nine earthquake. He shifted his mind’s view to an external camera aimed above the Pegasus and only had a moment to view a huge yellow fireball, just before it suddenly winked out as it was drawn into a single tiny point in the sky. Adam knew what had happened here, too. A spaceship had wandered into Nurick’s weak gravity well above the Pegasus and had paid the ultimate price for doing so.
The distraction caused by his mind’s link with the ship’s computer helped Adam to endure the pain racking his body. But now it was time to get moving.
He strengthened the well above the Pegasus and felt the ship lift off the surface. In as little as two minutes, he and Nurick could be well above the clouds and heading for open space. Yet Adam Cain wasn’t done with the planet Ralic-Sim. The Polimors would send other ships after them, so it was always best to leave a little damage in his wake….
So he transferred the focus of two of his four active focusing rings forward of the ship and aimed down slightly. Next he sent the Pegasus spiraling around the spaceport, which was home to the Polimor Clan’s largest security fleet—or at least it was for the moment.
With each pass around the spaceport, more and more Clan ships were ripped apart by the gravity well, with most of the debris disappearing into the series of invisible microscopic black holes being created at the focus of his rings. In addition, whole sections of the concrete surface of the spaceport were being churned up, creating deadly projectiles—some several tons in weight—that now rained back down on the surrounding area.
The Pegasus continued to gain altitude, carrying with it a tornado of broken starships, chunks of concrete and entire transport vehicles—along with hundreds of alien bodies. At about three miles off the surface, Adam abruptly dissolved the well momentarily sending a deluge of debris crashing down on the city below. From various camera angles on the Pegasus, Adam could see massive explosions erupting all around the now stripped and naked spaceport and extending to the surrounding city, with fires breaking out everywhere.
Suddenly, the ship was rocked by a major concussion emanating from the surface, and once the flare cleared from the camera, Adam saw what looked to be a small nuclear mushroom cloud rising up from the surface. The cloud was located to his right, about five miles on the other side of the spaceport. The explosion wasn’t large, but it was nuclear in nature. Some of the debris from Adam’s tornado must have hit a generating station of some kind, and now, as the Pegasus picked up speed, climbing higher toward space, Adam could see that nearly the entire city below was ablaze. Whatever had been ignited, the effect of the explosion on the city was apocalyptic.
Damn, I’m just trying to get away, he thought. I had no intention of destroying an entire city in the process.
With the image in his mind slowly fading away, the pain his body was experiencing began to overwhelm his consciousness once more. His last command before passing out was to engage a deep well and to steer the Pegasus out of the Ralic-Sim stellar system and toward the heart of the Cloud. He locked the controls, as well, just in case Nurick got any bright ideas about changing course.
And then he let the darkness take over, and with it, the only true relief to the pain he felt. Whether he’d ever wake up again, well, that was a matter for debate.
143
When consciousness did return, Adam Cain wasn’t sure if he wanted to embrace it. His memories were intact, so before he opened his eyes, he ran through a myriad of scenarios concerning his present situation. They weren’t very pretty or encouraging.
Was he still aboard the Pegasus, or was he locked away in an alien prison somewhere, just waiting until he woke up before being put to death? Or had Nurick decided to nurse him back to health just so he could become a gourmet meal for him and his brood? After all, the Karliseans/Josls were very Human-like—if only smaller—and the Vicoreans considered them a delicacy.
The fact that he wasn’t in much pain was a consolation, making the decision to finally open his eyes an easy one. Still, he had doubts about what he’d find when he did so.
Much to his relief, Adam recognized the ceiling of his stateroom aboard the Pegasus, and with it the comforting hum of the ship’s omnipresent gravity generators. He could sense the bandages wrapping his right side and the soft warmth of a velour blanket covering him. Someone had done a decent job of caring for him. Now all he had to do was figure out why?
The stateroom was bathed in a dim light from a single, low-watt source near the head, so his eyes were spared any harsh, painful brilliance after all the time they’d been closed—which for the record, was how long?
Soon curiosity overcame the desire to lie there in the warm bed and drift back off to sleep. So with painful effort, Adam Cain rolled over onto his left side and attempted to sit up.
The effort wasn’t too difficult; the bandages weren’t overly tight or restricting. He was also grateful for the alien medicine he had onboard. Like so much of their other technology, medical science of the Juireans
and Formilians was light-years ahead of Earth’s and had been easily adapted to Human physiology. If given the chance, he would heal at nearly three times the rate he would using only Human medicines.
He tested his legs and found he could stand, if somewhat unsteadily. The gravity aboard the Pegasus was also much lighter now, a fact which helped him navigate the short distance from his stateroom to the head.
He was naked except for the cloth bandages wrapping his torso—including his right shoulder. So after relieving himself, he struggled into a pair of grey sweatpants and a light button-up shirt, and then bare-footed, he made his way to the bridge.
In the dim light of the room—illuminated only by the main navigation screen and galaxy-light through the forward viewport—Adam found Nurick slumped over in the command seat, his head resting on his right hand, and asleep. Without disturbing him, Adam did a quick ATD scan of the ship’s systems, including a proximity search, and found everything to be nominal.
The chronometer on the display console showed the date—the Earth date—and from this Adam determined that he’d been asleep for four days. Next he used his ATD to access the navigation computer and assessed their location based on the sketchy star charts Kroekus had provided. He remembered setting a course for the main part of the LMC, so he was at a loss as to why they were now located this far to the left of his original plot, and skirting along the outer fringe of the galaxy?
Adam gently placed a hand on Nurick’s shoulder. The alien became instantly aware, shooting up out of the chair in a panic. “You are awake; you startled me!”
“Sorry about that,” Adam said with a smile. “And you looked so peaceful sleeping there.”
“I only slipped off for a moment. I assure you all systems are being monitored.”
“Relax, Nurick, I’m not mad. In fact, I want to thank you for doing such a great job of taking care of me.”
Adam saw the panic evaporate from Nurick’s face. “This may not be the appropriate time to say this, but I am expecting a sizeable reward for what I have done.”
Nurick took a seat at the comm station, relinquishing the larger and more comfortable command chair to Adam. “I have had much time to think while you have been recovering,” he continued, “and it is apparent that my life on Vicor is over. Even with the recordings you made, after the destruction of Balic-Mor, I feel there will be no accommodations afforded me. You are also fortunate that I am not particularly fond of my mate and have come to welcome that part of my involuntary exile.”
Adam burst out laughing at the last part of Nurick’s speech, while thinking: Across thousands of light-years and billions of years of diverse evolution, some things remain constant among sentient beings!
“Don’t worry, Nurick,” he said aloud. “I’ll take care of you. My resources may be limited, but you’re welcome to all I can spare. And with the new supply of energy modules aboard, that frees up a lot of the gold I have for other purposes.”
Nurick nodded, even though concern still painted his smooth, pink face.
Adam pointed at the stars visible through the viewport. “I see we’re not on the course I set; what’s happened while I was under?”
Nurick shook his head. “Much has happened. To begin with, we are still being pursued, and your command computer has been changing course quite often to avoid the hostiles. That is why we have deviated from your original course. As more and more units have joined the chase, the course has shifted radically from the Gof Sector and more towards Krinus.”
“How many units are chasing us?”
“Over ninety at last count.”
“Ninety! Why so many?”
Nurick tapped the dark screen at the comm station. “I have been monitoring news reports concerning our departure from Ralic-Sim. It is being disclosed that both Solius Vix and Lord Dakken died as a result of the nuclear explosion in Balic-Mor. Over eighty percent of the city has been destroyed, with a death toll in the millions.”
“No shit?”
To his credit, Nurick had come to learn some of the most basic Human idioms. “No shit,” he confirmed. “And the reports also place the blame for the destruction fully on us—including me.”
“You know, I feel really bad about all the innocent people who died. It wasn’t my intention for that to happen.”
“Irrelevant at this point.”
Adam frowned. “I realize that, Nurick,” he said impatiently. “I was just letting you know that I feel remorse for what happened. You know, I’m not the despicable person some of the reviews make me out to be. You have to give me that.”
“Then you are truly a sensitive, caring being.” Alien sarcasm was thick in Nurick’s voice. “Even so, I sincerely hope you are not intending to make amends by surrendering. I have no such desire to follow that course of action, not anymore.”
Adam smiled. “Don’t worry, neither do I.” At least now he knew Nurick was on his side and content to ride out this adventure to the bitter end. “So when do we leave Polimor territory?” he asked. “I will eventually need to get back on track to Anicett.”
Nurick looked confused again. “I do not understand.”
“When will be beyond Polimor jurisdiction? I assume eventually we’re going to move beyond their space.”
“That will not happen,” Nurick stated. “You seem to misunderstand how the Clans interact. You assume that distinct sections of Tanic are occupied and controlled by only one Clan. This is not the case. I would compare them more to a union of highly competitive businesses all operating on a galactic scale. You can have several competitors all located on a single planet, or even a single street, as was the case of the power-mod channelers on Vicor.”
“So the Polimors can chase us all the way to Anicett?”
“Theoretically, if they so desire. And after the death of the elected leader, Dakken Mor, that may be the case. Even the Kiran Clan may offer assistance to bring us to justice.”
Adam stared out the viewport for a long moment before commenting. “Well, that complicates things. I had hoped to maintain a low profile while in the LMC—in Tanic.”
“From what little I have seen of you, I do not believe that to be in your nature. You appear to make an immediate and lasting impression everywhere you go.”
“That’s not always my fault, and seldom is it my intention.”
Nurick smiled. “Again, irrelevant. You are who you are, and now the people of Tanic will forever remember the name of Adam Cain.”
“Great,” Adam said sourly. “Just great.”
After wolfing down a meal on the mess deck—and fighting the urge to vomit afterwards—Adam sat with Nurick discussing their options.
“The only thing that’s going to save us is the speed of the Pegasus,” Adam said. “We have to get at least one of the partially-installed power-mods online. That job can be done from inside the ship now that the hard part of getting the mods in place is over. Another pair will make us about twenty-five percent faster than anything you have here. With all eight rings operating, we’ll be eight to ten times faster.”
Nurick found the revelation hard to believe. “That is incredible; so completing the installation should be a priority.”
“Exactly,” Adam agreed. “Right now we’re barely holding our own against the units chasing us. Eventually they’ll get the angle or box us in somewhere.” Adam patted his bandages. “Even though I’m feeling better now, I’m not sure how much I can help with the install.”
“Do not worry. I am quite proficient with the installation of the mods; my profession requires it. I will work the tubes to help bring all the units I can online before we run out of places to hide.”
“You da alien!” Adam said with a grin, and before Nurick could react, he continued. “It means you’re great, and I appreciate the effort. The closest units chasing us are only about a light-year behind, and I see we’re heading into a really huge nebula. I’ve had some experience with nebulas, and I know they can be very dangerous to naviga
te. Even from my galaxy this one is famous. We call it the Tarantula Nebula, after a really big spider on my planet.”
“That is an appropriate name then, and the Krinus Nebula, as we call it here, is the most-dangerous environment there is in Tanic. Several thousand years ago a truly massive supernova took place there. We will certainly have to slow our rate and be more cautious of uncharted hazards.”
“Seeing that it’s such a mess, it might also be a good place to lose the pursuit,” Adam offered. “Once they lose contact with us, we’ll be just one tiny starship out of an entire galaxy. We should be able to go unnoticed from that point on.”
“Do you Humans find that your eternal optimism often creates overconfidence and disappointment in the final result?”
“Always—that’s why we have it. Without optimism every mission would fail before it begins. There needs to be the promise of a better outcome to make the effort worthwhile.”
“Strange behavior; it is a miracle your race has survived as long as it has.”
“No argument there, my friend. Now, let’s get to work. Those power-mods won’t install themselves.”
144
“I’m picking up some buffeting, Nurick,” Adam said over the comm line. “How much longer?”
“Ten minutes at the most,” said the voice through the intercom on the bridge.
“I’m having to back off on our speed, so the security units are closing.”
“If slowing our speed is done for safety reasons, how will having more speed available help us as we enter the Krinus Nebula?” Nurick asked.
“You’ll see. I just need another dedicated pair of focusing rings available. The four I have active already are for propulsion. Once you get the sixth unit online, I’ll have what I need to save our asses.”