by T. R. Harris
What he hadn’t counted on was that the Commander-One at the time would assign him to this hellhole of a base, hidden away from all but a select few within the government, and commanded by this child-officer, Qwels Nur.
And now this child-officer was being promoted and supported by a juggernaut from Silea. Yet to Mios, the involvement in Clan affairs by creatures from their neighboring galaxy was even more disturbing.
Even though he was frustrated with his situation, after meeting with the alien Kroekus, Mios began to see a light at the end of the tunnel—a light which could conceivably lead to his leadership of the Clan—if his Clan survived.
He had been secretly working with the Kirans for three years already, a situation made possible by the fact that his race and family were members of nearly every Clan in Tanic. Some son of a brother of a cousin of someone now worked within the Kiran Security Corps, an organization easily ten times larger than the Polimors—or so he had believed until learning of the secret fleet the Sileans had helped build. Over the years, the reports he’d passed along to his relative had paid him a very handsome sum of locbars, enough that would allow him to live a very comfortable, if not lavish lifestyle on any number of civilized worlds throughout the galaxy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to spend any of the locbars in his current assignment. This fact made him resent the assignment even more.
In fact, he had just received confirmation of the deposit of three hundred locbars in his bank account for passing along to the Polimors information regarding the link between the explosion on Ralic-Sim and the Kirans. At the time he received the communiqué and instructions what to do with it, he had questioned the intent of the disclosure, just as those at the meeting had. But he was getting paid to circulate information, not analyze it.
Yet now with the logic behind the creature Adam Cain’s assertion, Mios was beginning to see the meaning behind the madness.
As he prepared the next secret communiqué with information he’d learned aboard the giant starship, he couldn’t help but smile. Even though he was a Polimor, if the Kirans were so confident in their victory over his Clan, then it was good fortune on his part that he was supporting the right party in this conflict, and at its conclusion he would be properly rewarded.
Even if the Polimors became subjects of the more-powerful Kiran Clan, they would still need a leader—a governor or a minister. Mios would be very content with that. And the sooner this war began, the sooner it could be concluded. So Mios Valnon would do what he must to make sure the Kirans were the victors.
One of Mios’ most recent propaganda circulations involved the whereabouts of the Kirans secret gravity-drive production facility on the planet Ione. The Kirans had acquired the knowledge of the concentrated-array, and so with these new engines, the Polimors would need ten of their ships to equal one CA-equipped Kiran warcraft. The communication Mios passed on to the most-radical of the secret fleet commanders was a discussion regarding surgical strikes against such targets and their projected impact on the Kiran war machine.
The report’s conclusions were too tempting not to act upon—as was the intention.
Being a secret facility, the factory didn’t employ a large security screen around it, something that would have drawn undue attention. This fact made the production facility an irresistible target for a preemptive strike, one that could have serious repercussions in the coming conflict. As the Polimor commanders reasoned, if war was coming then let us start it now, and with a crippling attack.
The operation was led by Second-Commander Kac Loavor and supported by another of the eight fleet units under the command of Onilin—just Onilin; his race did not have inferior and superior names.
Buoyed by the recent report regarding the link between Dakken’s death and the Kiran embassy on Huof, the commanders felt justified in their decision to attack, even without a formal declaration of war. And without guidance coming out of either Huof or Ralic-Sim, the commanders felt they were on their own, and with the very survival of the Clan now in their hands.
They also knew that the Polimors outnumbered the Kirans four-to-one in military strength, and if they could negate the technological advantage the new gravity-drives would give the Kirans, then their superior numbers would actually mean something going forward.
And so a combined fleet of nearly a thousand vessels set off for the planet Ione. Everyone aboard the ships knew the implications of their act and supported it. The Kirans had been a thorn in the side of the Polimors since faster-than-light star travel had first been introduced to Tanic over five hundred years before. Now all that was about to change and not a soul aboard the ships had any second thoughts about the mission.
151
Nigel McCarthy had placed dozens of remote sensors around the planet Ione, so he saw the Polimors coming. He had also moved a substantial number of his warships into the region. If there was going to be a battle, then let it be an impressive one.
The action itself lasted nine hours before the last of the Kiran forces were hunted down and destroyed. None of the defensive units he’d sent to the region were equipped with CA gravity-drives, so they were overwhelmed by the sheer number of Polimor warcraft. And then the Polimors sent nuclear fire down on the facility—as well as the three surrounding communities where the bulk of the factory’s workforce came from. The destruction was total, and the seven hundred eighty remaining Polimor vessels headed back to their space feeling confident in their victory.
Within minutes of the attack, Nigel was in Alic Kiran's bunker delivering his report. Alic spent most of his time in the bunker these days, buried deep underground outside the capital city of Simus. The narcotics Nigel was feeding him had served to increase Alic’s paranoia to a point where only nine people were allowed in the room with him, and never all nine at the same time.
However, there was one other creature in the room with Nigel at the time; she was Dinis Grof, the long-time companion of Alic Kiran and the mother of his six children. She was also a trusted advisor and one of the most pragmatic aliens Nigel had ever met.
And that was why she was a principal leader of the conspiracy against her mate. She couldn’t understand what had happened to him over the past few months, yet she realized he was no longer fit to lead. She also knew that with the current political and military needs of the Clan, Nigel McCarthy was the person who could save the Clan from total destruction.
And now this attack—unprovoked and savage.
“We are doomed!” Alic shouted. “Without the gravity-drives we are at the mercy of the Polimors and their rabid clansmon. We must save what we can. I must speak with their new leader; who is that?”
“They still have not appointed one, Lord Kiran. At last report, they were using a loose triumvirate to make decisions.”
“A tri-what?”
“A triumvirate—a group of three people; they are ruling by committee.”
“Then establish a link with them immediately. I must make them an offer for peace which will spare us.”
“You are talking surrender, Alic.” There was venom in the voice of Dinis Grof. She was a loyalist—first and foremost—and therefore would never accept the surrender of her Clan to another. She also had no confidence left in Alic’s decision-making ability.
“It will not be necessary for us to surrender,” said Nigel calmly.
“But without the engines, we cannot stand against the Polimors!”
“We will have our engines, Lord Kiran. Prior to the attack, I set about diversifying our production facilities to guard against just such an event. The facility on Ione was only operating at about ten percent of capacity, so the loss of the factory is of minor concern. New construction and retrofitting of the engines will continue unabated.”
Nigel saw Alic go pale as he slumped down in a chair on the other side of his desk. The relief he felt was welcomed but draining. The emotional rollercoaster he had been on recently was exhausting, yet even so Nigel was shocked when Alic Kiran fell asleep in the
chair, right in the middle of the meeting.
He looked to Dinis Grof, who was staring at him with an expression bordering on worship. The two of them left the office, leaving Alic to sleep.
Once in the anteroom, Dinis stepped in close to Nigel and whispered. “Even though your foresight has saved us—for the moment—this event will mark the start of formal hostilities between us and the Polimors. The Clan will demand action, and that is why I believe now is the time; I will call a meeting immediately.”
She glanced back at the closed door to Alic’s office and frowned. “Perhaps he will have the good fortune of sleeping through what is to come. I will contact you once the deed is done—Lord McCarthy.”
152
A week later, Nigel McCarthy, the newly-crowned Lord of the Kiran Clan, was comfortably ensconced in his new office atop the Clan headquarters building in Simus, ninety stories up. The office occupied the entire top floor of the pinnacle-shaped skyscraper, with windows that covered the entire circumference of the room. The view of Simus was spectacular, and Nigel was still in awe of what he had accomplished in such a short time—and with minimal bloodshed.
He may not be the leader of Earth—as the Klin had promised him so many years before—yet soon he would become the leader of an entire galaxy. As a Human, he still favored the Earth over Tanic, but sometimes a bloke had to compromise on what to rule—either a planet or a galaxy?
Below the penthouse office was a set of offices where his senior staff operated. Since the coup and his installation as the interim Lord of the Clan, he had appointed all his Hundred Humans to positions of power and control within the government. Although he didn’t have nearly enough of them to go around, he did prioritize their placement so that only a week after becoming Lord, Nigel was already the dictator of the Clan and in complete control of all the important agencies of government. Because of Alic’s family ties to the Kiran Clan, he and his ancestors had served as quasi-dictators in their own right for hundreds of years, a practice found in about half the Clans in the galaxy. There would be no outward sign of a shift in policy because of this, so the population would accept things as business as usual, at least for the time being.
Nigel had to smile at the thought. The Clans of Tanic had no concept what a true dictatorship was like, yet they were about to find out.
Simone came into his office from the floor stairway and literally ran to his desk. He frowned at her. “What’s the huff, Simone?”
“This!” she said as she tossed a sheet of paper on his desk. Nigel was taken aback; he couldn’t remember the last time he saw a piece of paper with writing on it; everything was displayed on datapads these days.
Nigel picked up the sheet of paper and began to read the translated English typing on the page. To his frustration, he estimated the damn report had to be written in six-point type or smaller, so he squinted hard to read it. He had glasses in the desk drawer, but the vain Nigel McCarthy would keep them there for the time being, or at least while someone else was in the room.
Soon he realized the importance of the message, and why Simone was so upset. He suddenly went pale; Simone noticed his reaction and decided to help him digest the information before he’d had a chance to complete the report.
“It’s that bastard Kroekus,” she said. “Somehow he got away from the Juireans and now he’s here.”
McCarthy had always been an excellent tactician, and part of that skill involved making connections where none were obvious. Now a lot of answers concerning recent events came into focus. He took several deep breaths before responding to Simone.
“So here is our mysterious benefactor to the Polimor military build-up and why they’re so much better than they should be at this point.”
“But I thought he was to be our benefactor!” Simone screamed. “The fact that he’s here and helping the Polimors doesn’t make any sense.”
“Just be glad he is, my dear, otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying the view,” and then he attempted a wry smile, “instead, I’d be sitting in your office one floor down.”
“Very funny, asshole, now what are we going to do about this? He’s obviously behind what’s happening in the Polimor Clan, so he has no intention of helping us.”
Nigel looked down at the sheet of paper again. “It says he’s come here in some Deathstar-like spaceship—luckily only one at this time, although it says another bloody one is on the way. That could be a bugger and considering the resources that fat bastard has available to him, there could be even more in the future.”
“He has to be stopped.”
“That is obvious,” said Nigel, “and before he and the Polimors get any stronger.”
“And what about Cain?”
Nigel’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name Cain.
“What do you mean, what about Cain?”
“Adam Cain—or have you forgotten so soon?”
“I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t know what the bloody hell you’re talking about!”
“It’s in the report, down toward the bottom. Cain’s with him.”
“With Kroekus? Adam Cain is here in this galaxy?”
“Duh! You really do need to get some reading glasses.”
In a panic, Nigel threw vanity aside and pulled his glasses from the desk drawer. Ignoring the disgusted look on Simone’s face, he slipped them on and read the report again, this time all the way to the end.
It was there all right. Adam Cain was the First Advisor to Kroekus. It mentioned him as a negotiator and strategist for the Silean.
“If he’s helping Kroekus, then we could be in some deep shit,” Simone said.
“He’s not here to help Kroekus; he’s here for me, plain and simple.”
Simone knew their history, so she remained silent rather than dispute the assertion.
“But why partner with Kroekus? Cain’s the one who turned him over to the Juireans.”
“Necessity, I would imagine. It’s obvious now that the Silean’s activities in the Cloud have been more extensive than he let on. After all, you don’t build a five-thousand-ship fleet overnight. Cain’s simply hitching a ride until he can get his hands on me.” Nigel then smiled. “After that—if I were Kroekus—I’d be very afraid. That bloody Yank is the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. I’m sure he’s not through with Kroekus, either.”
“You look scared, Nigel.” Simone frowned at her boss and lover. “I’ve known you for two years and I’ve never seen you look scared before.”
“I’m not scared, just apprehensive. Unless we do something about Cain—and before he gets his bearings—he could throw a mighty wrench into this entire thing we have going here.”
“He’s just one man.”
“He’s Adam Cain, my dear. Haven’t you read any of the books? This guy is a superman.”
153
Superman was feeling depressed and frustrated recently. It had been a week since the attack on the Kiran production facility and still Qwels couldn’t arrange for more than three of the other unit commanders to commit to a meeting. Adam knew that until Kroekus could gather his entire fleet together once again, he would delay any major incursion into Kiran territory.
But what truly frustrated him was the fact that Nigel McCarthy was on Anicett and Adam wasn’t. Until that situation was rectified, he would remain in his shitty mood.
The comm unit in his huge stateroom buzzed. It operated by voice recognition, so Adam didn’t have to move from the bed to answer it. “This is Cain.”
“It is Nurick. I have news which you may find pleasing.”
Adam remained on the bed, with his right arm resting across his forehead and staring at the ceiling. “What is it?”
Nurick had noticed Adam’s mood swing and was now going out of his way to change it, if he could. Adam had received a number of messages like this from Nurick over the past week, only to be disappointed in their content.
“Qwels has managed to get all the other commanders to agr
ee to a meeting.” Nurick’s voice was jubilant.
“Great…when?” Adam’s voice was less than enthusiastic. This was good news; his mood just didn’t let him feel it.
“Three days. The location has been set and it will take place aboard the Goliath.”
“So how did he pull that off?” Adam felt obligated to ask.
“Pull what off?”
“The meeting; how did he manage that?”
“Oh. From what I gather, once the two other Second-Commanders returned from their raid of the Kiran factory, they are now available to meet. They say it is time to make preparations for war—which is what the fleet was built to do. In my opinion, I believe they would also like to boast about their recent adventure. The others then followed suit.”
“That’s probably it right there,” Adam said. “Maybe now we can get this show on the road,” he said in a whisper—which the sound monitor still picked up clearly and relayed to Nurick.
“Oh, very clever, Adam; we are the performance—the show— and so will be traveling to the meeting on a road through space. You see, I am learning.”
“Good for you,” Adam said as sent the verbal command to terminate the call. And then under his breath he said, “It’s about time.”
During the three days it took the Goliath to travel to the rendezvous point, a force of ninety Kiran starships attacked the planet Liszt, where most of the financial records of the Polimor Clan were stored. It was a surgical strike, and from the reports, was a success for the Kiran's and an unmitigated disaster for the Polimors. For an organization built solely around commerce and trade, the target couldn’t have been more appropriate.
To Adam the plan had Nigel’s fingerprints all over it.