by T. R. Harris
The reaction from the Clan leader was what Nigel expected. He began to shake visibly, with tiny amounts of spittle draining out the corners of his mouth. Yet it was his eyes that told the full story, and all the others at the table could see it, too.
Nigel knew the meeting was drawing to a close, and he had a lot to do at its conclusion.
He had to send out false leads to the Polimors, providing even more tantalizing evidence that the Kirans were responsible for the death of Lord Dakken.
He also had to meet again with his co-conspirators. The coup he planned had been advancing nicely, but now with this new crisis, he could easily advance the timetable. After all, someone had once infamously claimed that you never let a good crisis go to waste.
And lastly, he had to up the strength of the subtle poison he’d been feeding Alic Kiran for the past four weeks. It wasn’t a deadly poison, but more of a narcotic designed to create paranoia and irrational behavior. It had taken him a month to find the right combination of drugs that would work on the alien, but once he had, the affects had been nothing but miraculous. The once strong and confident leader of the Kiran Clan—a being raised from birth to manage the organization—had disintegrated into this volatile, caustic and scared creature Nigel now saw across the table from him.
The unrest that was growing within the higher ranks of the Clan—from a combination of impending military operations, as well as the public deterioration of Alic’s condition—had made Nigel the go-to-guy for the conspirators. The aliens had very little experience with court intrigue. But not Nigel—at least not according to the stories he circulated. He made it sound as if only through betrayal and revolution was politics practiced in the Silean Galaxy. They weren’t far off, but still the truth had been exaggerated to the extreme.
And now Nigel McCarthy was in thick with the conspirators, with even some within the movement now suggesting that it be Nigel McCarthy to replace Alic Kiran as Lord of the Clan. He was thankful for the multi-species nature of the Clan, where even an outsider like himself could be accepted as the leader without raising an eyebrow among the populace.
And who better to lead in a time of war than the only military professional in the Tanic Galaxy?
In the words of Nigel’s most-admired philosopher, Sun Tzu: The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.
To Nigel, this approach sure beat trying to take over the Clan by more direct means with only his hundred Humans. The paranoia of politicians was so much more predictable—and manageable.
Yet for Nigel, there was one agonizing question casting a shadow over all this political intrigue: Who was it pulling the strings of the Polimor Clan? They were too proficient and advanced in their military operations than they should be. Nigel couldn’t believe this to be simply a result of natural causes. From his experience, aliens weren’t that competent to build such an impressive military machine from scratch, and in such a short time.
They had to have help. And the only source for talent of that kind had to come from the Milky Way Galaxy.
149
“Why don’t you just bolt away and never see your large friend again?”
Adam pursed his lips and continued to stare at the main computer screen of the Pegasus. The alien had a point. Although he knew Kroekus could monitor the location of his ship, Adam doubted that the Silean would head out after him in the Goliath. Even with the new, juiced up power-modules working at optimum, Kroekus’s ship could still outrun the Pegasus. But the alien had more important things to deal with than chasing after him.
Adam had to admit the thought had crossed his mind. But to cut out now would mean abandoning his primary mission—which was the elimination of Nigel McCarthy. Since arriving in the Cloud, Adam had found that his mission wasn’t such a straight-forward affair as he’d first imagined. Now he needed allies and who better than Kroekus with his super-ship, formidable fleet and extensive contacts?
Sure, Kroekus should have ranked right up there with Nigel McCarthy on Adam’s Naughty List. It was just that for the time being, necessity did make for strange bedfellows. If his mission succeeded, he would rethink the whole Kroekus affair. But for now, he would use the huge alien as much as he could. And that also meant allowing himself to be used by Kroekus.
The sooner Adam could help the Silean resolve his rogue fleet issue, the sooner both of them could get to work on their mutual Nigel McCarthy problem.
Qwels Nur and his fleet of over four hundred small-to-medium-size warships was located within a dense star cluster about fifteen hundred light-years from Ralic-Sim, yet only four hundred from the Goliath. The Pegasus made the hop in a day and half—longer than it should have taken, since they had to navigate through some treacherous gravity eddies near the star cluster.
Qwels’ fleet was one of eight such commands Kroekus had helped finance for the Polimors. It was one of the smaller ones, Kroekus explained, and Adam was surprised to learn that the Polimors had nearly five thousand starships combined, either fleet-ready or nearing final completion. In any galaxy, that was a major force to be reckoned with, and in a place like the Cloud, it was a game-changer. It was obvious Kroekus had left nothing to chance. When he made his move, he would be in a position to sweep across the galaxy in one massive campaign of conquest.
It now made more sense why Kroekus would be so concerned with recent events. Theoretically he owned the fleet; in reality, none of the Polimors knew it.
Using conventional wormhole communications, Nurick sent out a message to his brother, blanketing the region with a general broadcast that would be based on word recognition. Once the name Qwels Nur was identified, the communication would be routed to him automatically. Theoretically, Qwels could be on the other side of the galaxy and eventually the message would reach him.
As Nurick related, he and his brother had last spoken four years ago, when their birth-mother had died. It was simply an informational call for both, since birth-mothers on Vicor often produced up to a dozen litters in their lifetime, and therefore never developed a close bond with any of their plentiful offspring.
It was also rare that siblings would remain close. The only thing that bonded the brothers together was the fact that they had both ventured off into space, Nurick as a merchant pilot and Qwels serving in various security forces.
And now Qwels was one of a select few Security commanders entrusted with not only the knowledge of the massive war fleet, but also its intended purpose.
Nurick wasn’t even sure if Qwels would acknowledge his message. In light of the recent turmoil within the shadow fleet, he had to be understandably busy and probably not the least bit nervous and paranoid.
So when the communications alert came through from Qwels, Nurick was both excited and nervous about speaking with his sibling.
Adam was amazed at the similarity in the brother’s appearance, until he realized that most rats on Earth looked alike, too. Even still, he watched the recorded message clearly for any distinguishing features that would set them apart. The last thing he needed to do was get them confused, if and when they all met.
“Nurick, it was quite a surprise to hear from you, and I do appreciate the concern. I am well; I was not on Ralic-Sim at the time of the explosion. Which does bring up a point: The time signature on your message would indicate that you are nearly within the system where I am located. I am not sure if this is by chance or by design, yet it will afford us the opportunity to speak in real time. Please initiate contact again. I would enjoy that very much.”
Nurick looked over at Adam. “Well, this is it. We shall see how the reunion goes.” He punched in the access code and then sat back to wait for Qwels to open the link from his side.
The comm screen flashed to life less than a minute later. Adam had the image copied to another monitor on the bridge, one outside the field of view of the comm station’s camera, and except for the different uniforms the two images wore, it was like Nurick was speaking to a mirror.
“My b
rother,” greeted Nurick. “It is good that I find you well and safe.”
Qwels Nur smiled warmly. “Nurick, what a surprise—and you are so close,” Qwels said. “And since you are, I insist you come see me in person. There is nothing better than live interaction. If I recall, you and I were the closest of the litter, and I have always felt a special bond with you. I am transmitting my coordinates. As you would expect, there are certain security protocols to be followed, and those instructions will be included in the location packet.”
“I am looking forward to it, Qwels. According to my readings, I should be at your location in less than two hours.”
“Excellent,” Qwels said. “I will have a lavish meal prepared. Should I include another setting for a guest?”
“That would be good. I have my ship’s pilot with me as well. He is a scrawny creature, yet a competent pilot, so I’ve been using him since I came out here. He would be very disappointed if I left him on the ship, along with processed food.”
“He, too, is welcome. My job here is done for the day, so I will go now and begin making preparations for your arrival.”
The screen went blank, although the coordinates and approach instructions were electronically transferred to the pilot’s station. Indicators on Adam’s computer began to flash that an incoming message had been received.
“That went better than we both expected,” said Nurick with a sigh.
“Yeah, and that’s when you should get very nervous and on-guard.”
“Yet not when events are unknown and confused?”
“You should be nervous and on-guard then, too. In fact, in my book, it’s often a good idea to stay nervous and on-guard all the time. You never know when something’s going to jump up and bite you in the ass.”
“I can imagine that could be very painful,” said Nurick.
Adam was practicing what he preached. Something didn’t seem right, and so his forehead remained furrowed and his eyes clouded, which he imagined was a common expression of those who had just been invited to enter the Spider’s Parlor.
Unfortunately for him and Nurick, they were not to heed The Little Fly’s warning: “Oh no, no. To ask me is in vain, for those who go up your winding stairs, can never come down again.”
Adam had never been in a non-nebular cluster so packed with stars and planets that navigation was virtually impossible. Fortunately, Nurick’s brother sent a small three-ship escort to the outer reaches of the cluster to help guide the Pegasus through the maze. Adam recorded every subtle turn and gravitational nuance they encountered on the off chance they might have to make a hasty getaway on their own.
As a result of the downright crowded nature of the cluster, the space around the planet where Qwels base was located contained most of the rogue fleet, rather than it being scattered throughout the system. Adam had to admire not only the planning that went into the building of the base, but also the selection of its location. It would be virtually impossible for an uninvited ship to just happen upon the planet and the fleet, and if it did, then certainly not undetected.
The base was located on a cold, thin-aired planet with more than its fair share of active volcanoes. It was sealed against the elements by a cluster of huge geodesic domes located next to a vast spaceport with the largest environment-hangar Adam had ever seen situated between the landing field and the domes. Even though they had seen only a few ships in orbit, the monitors had picked up the signatures of several hundred they couldn’t see. And now Adam found the spaceport was also packed to capacity, and without knowing how many more ships were housed within the huge hangar.
As special guests of the fleet commander, the Pegasus was guided to an LZ near the right corner of the hangar, and once down, a tractor came out and towed them inside. The interior was honeycombed with dozens of gigantic airlocks, making it possible for ships to come and go without having to constantly evacuate and then re-pressurize the entire hangar with each ship’s transit. The Pegasus was placed in one of these airlocks and an automated voice came over the ship’s speakers and announced when it was safe to go outside.
The temperature gauge showed minus twenty degrees Celsius inside the hangar, so Adam dressed in a thick, cotton-filled jacket. He loaned a similar garment to Nurick who still wore the dark green uniform of the Goliath crew, since his only other change of clothes had never been returned. The bulk of the coat fit him well, if not the short arms. His thin hands stuck out a good eight inches beyond the edge of the sleeves. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to spend much time in the hangar and could forego the jackets once inside the main structure.
As it turned out, a heated transport pulled up to the Pegasus and gave them a ride to the main dome of the base. Even though they didn’t technically need the coats, Adam told Nurick to keep his on. If they did have to make an unscheduled departure there may not be a heated cab waiting to take them back to the Pegasus.
They were guided to a large office with a soaring section of the glass dome making up the ceiling, and offering an incredible view of three nearby stars, each shining as bright as the full moon from Earth. Adam noticed there were no other lights on in the office, seeing that they would have been redundant with the glow of the stars so prominent.
Qwels Nur had already moved from behind his desk and was quickly approaching them as they entered. He had a warm smile and bright—although beady—rat-like eyes.
“Nurick!” he said as he embraced his brother. “Being stationed so far out here, it is so good to see a familiar face, and not only one from Vicor, but also from my own litter. Your smell is so soothing, and it brings back many memories of our younger days.” The scene was quite touching.
“As does yours, Qwels, and yet look at you now; the head of such an impressive operation—and with an office affording one of the most incredible views I have ever seen.”
“With rank comes better accommodations and privileges.”
Adam barely contained his smile, thinking, He didn’t just say that? It was too close to the Human saying of rank has its privileges. Some things, it seemed, were constants across the universe.
Nurick turned to Adam once the brothers separated. “Qwels, I would like to introduce you to—”
“—Adam Cain. Yes, I know.” Qwels voice had suddenly turned to ice, and within seconds the room was flooded with a dozen creatures dressed in blue uniforms and with flash weapons aimed at them.
“Qwels, I do not understand?” Nurick said. By the tone of his voice, he was truly hurt by the actions of his brother.
“I believe you do, my brother,” Qwels said, as he motioned for the guards to bring Adam and Nurick over to the desk and to place them in the waiting chairs. When they were all seated—with Qwels at his desk—Adam noticed that none of the guards left the room. Instead, they took up positions within eyesight, but at the edge of earshot.
“Why did you not think I would receive full reports regarding the incident on Ralic-Sim?” Qwels began. “Even though rumors are circulating about who was behind the attack and subsequent terrorist activities, your name—along with that of Adam Cain—appear in the confidential reports as the catalysts of the destruction. Whether you were directly involved in the plot to kill Lord Dakken we are soon to find out, Nurick—brother or not. And you….”
He turned his gaze on Adam. “You are the owner of the elusive eight-focusing-ring starship from the Silean Galaxy. If you have come all this way to participate in the demise of the Polimor Clan, then I am afraid you have underestimated us. Your galaxy may be ten times larger than Tanic, but that does not mean you have a monopoly on intelligence and tactical thinking. The fact that you arrive here in your revolutionary starship, just as assassinations, sabotage and a fever-pitch buildup of Kiran Clan warships occurs has been noticed. These events cannot be unrelated. And now here you are, right outside my secret base, pretending that you had no knowledge of its location beforehand.
“Now I must ask you, who gave you these coordinates, along with the knowledge tha
t I am in command? Answer truthfully and I may spare you the death sentence you both deserve for conspiring to overthrow the government.”
Although Adam was frustrated beyond words for walking into such an obvious trap, he kept a calm demeanor outside. He leaned a little further back in the large chair and crossed his legs, trying to appear in complete control of the situation.
“I believe your proper title is that of Second-Commander, is it not Qwels Nur?” he began slowly. “As a Second-Commander, you are responsible for this small fleet of ships, one of eight such spread across Polimor space.”
Adam detected just the right amount of surprise–quickly contained—cross the alien’s face. Kroekus had given him a full briefing on the Clan’s military buildup and their command structure, so the fact that this outsider would have such classified information was designed to place Qwels off balance.
Adam continued. “Currently, the full fleet numbers just under five thousand ships, and is under the direct responsibility of Commander-One Zi’lous Jur. For a period of five years your fleet has been under construction as a defensive shield against the aggressive shift in the politics and ambitions of the Kiran Clan.”
A second officer had stepped up to stand next to Qwels; he was an impossibly thin creature with one main set of arms, plus two minors located at mid torso. This new officer and Qwels exchanged a concerned look with one another.
Nur turned his attention back to Adam. “I believe it pointless to deny any of your information; you appear to be very well informed. The question then becomes how did you come upon this information? I must assume that you did not learn it once arriving in Tanic. Therefore, there must be a link between us and Silea.”