The Human Chronicles Saga : Boxset #2 (The Human Chronicles Saga Boxsets)

by T. R. Harris

  He was under no false illusion that the Goliath would survive the coming confrontation; Adam Cain had been right; the battle was lost before it even began. All they could do now was prolong the inevitable. Nigel McCarthy would win this battle, yet the war must continue. And now, armed with two large cases of datapads, Kroekus faced another daunting challenge.

  The Goliath had never been built to be abandoned during battle. It was the most powerful warship ever built, so Kroekus had never imagined it could be bested. He had secret escape pods made available for him and his most trusted subordinates, yet nothing close to his quarters. In fact, all the escape pods were located on level one, twenty levels below.

  And not only that, but Kroekus was the most recognizable creature onboard. For the crew to see him making his way to the depths of the ship carrying two large cases, well, it would be obvious to all that he was running away. How they would react to that circumstance did not take a lot of imagination on his part to conjure up.

  So Kroekus took the time to go through the datapads more closely, consolidating them down to twenty or so, enough that would fit into a backpack. He then slung the pack over his huge shoulder and picked up a Xan-fi flash rifle from the bed. He would appear to be moving into battle with the crew, which would now go on to inspire them. He would bark out commands as he went, sending the crew in the opposite direction of his travels.

  Satisfied that he would make it to level one, he left his stateroom—just as he heard the voice of Adam Cain boom from the ship’s comm system.

  “This is Adam Cain. The boarders are coming in on decks four, nine and fifteen. Evacuate and seal off those decks, and then dump the atmosphere in all three. Set your defensive lines at the main access points between decks above and below the ones mentioned. Do your best to keep them contained. Look for bottlenecks that can be easily defended. Cain out.”

  Kroekus felt crushed. With three decks below him being sealed off and evacuated of atmosphere, he was now trapped on the bridge level with no way to get to the escape pods.

  He sat down on the bed and let the backpack slide off his shoulder. What was he to do now? He was no solider, so what little contribution he could make to the coming battle would be of no consequence. And Adam Cain was so much more superior to him in battle tactics and strategy.

  He looked out the viewport to the crimson glory of the nebula outside. It was a beautiful sight, even if it belied the deadly nature of its existence. And even though he could see none of the invaders as they attached themselves to his ship like a swarm of Niegic bloodsuckers, he knew they were there, just another deadly element of this deceptively beautiful nebula.

  So Kroekus would wait here; wait for any news of a miracle outcome to the forthcoming battle. If anyone could create such a miracle while in the throes of a battle, it would be Adam Cain.

  Yes, Adam Cain would save the day, as he had so many times in the past. All Kroekus had to do was stay here, out of the way, and let the Human do what Humans do best—fight.

  Nigel wanted to keep the bridge level intact, or as intact as possible. He could imagine the time and energy it would take to repair all the vital shipboard components found there if the battle evolved into a firefight on the bridge itself. Then there were comm systems, weapons control and navigation equipment. He would prefer to save as many of those as he could. The final outcome, of course, would be up to the defenders and how hard they preferred to defend their territory.

  Since these were citizens of Tanic fighting, he was holding out the hope that they would soon realize the hopelessness of their position and surrender. These creatures were not as attached to territory as where people from his galaxy, and the huge spaceship—the Goliath the report had called it—was just a hunk of metal territory in space and therefore, hardly worth dying for.

  There were only two more levels to control—nineteen and twenty—and already his troops were on nineteen. And yet the fighting had bogged down, with more and more of the ship’s crew now crowded onto these two levels.

  The fear Nigel always had was that someone would initiate a self-destruct command for the ship. Yet in reality, very few ships employed self-destruct capabilities—unlike how it was depicted in the movies—and the ones that did were mainly security ships with something to hide if compromised.

  The ship Kroekus had built was nothing like that. It was the Titanic of warships, and as such, it was in the process of suffering the same fate. The Silean’s overconfidence in the indestructible nature of the ship would be its downfall. So even though the thought still lingered at the back of mind, he knew Kroekus was not the kind of being to provide a way to voluntarily destroy his greatest creation.

  Yet Adam Cain might find a way, through a generator overload or something like that. Nigel wasn't even sure if such a thing was possible, but still, he couldn't put anything past Adam Cain to try.

  And so Nigel McCarthy gained access to the ship’s intercom system through the hacking program in his datapad and made the following announcement:

  “To the crew fighting against my forces aboard the Goliath, this is Nigel McCarthy, Lord of the Kiran Clan. By now you must know your cause is lost and I do not wish to have any more bloodshed. So I make you this offer: Surrender now and I will provide transport and safe passage for you back to Polimor space. Since most of you come from the galaxy of the Expansion, you will be able to find passage back to your homes and pods from there. I will do nothing to prevent this. You can survive the day and then live out your lives far away from this foreign galaxy. There is no need for you to die way out here, and for nothing. The only condition I make to this offer is that the creatures Adam Cain and Kroekus of Silea be turned over to me—alive. They are the cause of all this conflict, and it is because of them that so many of your crewmates have died. That is all I ask...and the rest of you may live.

  “I will now instruct my fighters to cease fire for a period of fifteen standard minutes, long enough for you show your willingness to comply. And if you are unable to secure the Human Adam Cain on your own, simply confine him to a space and leave him to me. Kroekus is another matter. You should have no trouble bringing him to me. I will be at access gate nine, Level 19. Bring him to me—as well as Cain, if possible—and you shall live.

  “The time begins now.”

  Adam was afraid something like this might happen. He was in a corridor on Level 19, having just dispatched twenty of Nigel’s raiders singlehandedly. He was now covered in their blood, and where moments before the crewmembers around him had looked upon him with awe and wonder, they now stared at him with nervous intent.

  They had just seen what he could do to the enemy; they now hesitated before acting themselves.

  Adam nodded at those around him. “Go...put down your weapons and save your lives.”

  “Will this creature honor his word?” someone asked.

  “That is a concern,” Adam said honestly. “But the alternative may not be very pleasant, either. I want to thank you all for fighting beside me. It was an honor to serve with you.”

  “And yet he wants us to turn you over to him. Will you allow this?”

  “That I can’t do,” said Adam. “But I can allow you to leave me to my own fate. He said for you to bring me to him—if you could. Well, you can’t, and I’m pretty sure you all agree with me on that point.”

  The thirty or so assembled crewmembers all nodded their agreement.

  “Good, now go. And good luck. Knowing Nigel McCarthy as I do, you’re going to need it.”

  The aliens beat a hasty retreat from anywhere near to Adam Cain as if he had suddenly become radioactive, and soon he was alone in the corridor, surrounded by death and the moaning of the few who had not yet succumbed to fate, but soon would.

  Adam’s last best hope was that Nigel would let them fight it out one-on-one. Yet he was pragmatic enough to know Nigel wouldn’t take such a risk, not at the crowning moment in his ambition.

  If they did fight, then it would be rigged. So Ad
am had to rig the game himself.

  Nigel had already said he would take Adam prisoner if he got the chance, a fate he knew would be so much worse than death. So his only way out would be to die—and take Nigel with him. If Adam could come up with a plan over the next few minutes that would guarantee such an outcome, he could go in peace, knowing that McCarthy would end up a shattered corpse himself.

  So Adam Cain sat down on a pile of dead aliens to think, finding the seat to be quite comfortable from the squishy softness of their still-warm bodies.

  The new Dead-Alien line of sofas and recliners, exclusively from Laura Ashley, and available at all Rooms-to-Go and other fine furniture outlets.

  It had all the makings of a bestseller, in Adam’s opinion. And looking around the corridor, there was plenty of raw material available to meet the demand.

  If wry humor—expressed at the most inappropriate moments—was a weapon, then Nigel McCarthy didn’t stand a chance.

  And with that thought, Adam went looking for a bomb. As an ex-Navy SEAL, he had a lot of experience with explosives and if given the time, he shouldn’t have any problem building an IED—Improvised Explosive Device. All he needed was something powerful enough to take him to Heaven and McCarthy to Hell, even if it was simply a grenade hidden somewhere on his body.

  The resolve—and resignation—he was feeling at the moment was cathartic. It wasn’t the optimal conclusion to his life he could envision, yet it could give it meaning if he was able to take out the most-deadly villain in two galaxies in the process.

  159

  Most of the Level 19 had been cleared of resistance, and his offer of amnesty had gone over as expected, with close to sixteen hundred defenders laying down their weapons and surrendering.

  As information filtered back to him from the prisoners, two things became apparent to Nigel McCarthy.

  The first was that Adam Cain had gone rogue, and that none of the crew were willing to go up against him. Nigel had expected this. The crew of this starship originated in the Milky Way, so they were very familiar with Human abilities, if not intimate with the exploits of Adam Cain personally. In addition, they had just been given the chance to live, and the last thing they wanted to do was go up against the most dangerous creature in two galaxies.

  The other thing he learned was that Kroekus was still aboard and hold up in his stateroom. The crewmembers were very forthcoming about the cabin’s location, and considering the difficulty of tracking down Adam Cain, Nigel decided to take care of his Kroekus problem first.

  He entered the cabin unescorted and was once again taken by the modest appointments found in the personal lifestyle Kroekus practiced. He’d noticed this in the past, even when the Silean sat at the pinnacle of power within the Expansion. The creature collected power and wealth not so he could reap the personal rewards of such, but rather as an internal test of wills. It was him against everyone else, and in his struggle to defeat his inner demons, no one before him been more successful.

  But now Nigel found the fat alien punishing the mattress of a modest-size bed, as he sat waiting with calm resignation for what fate would deliver. The Silean was over one hundred-fifty years old, which placed him on the other side of middle age for his race. Not counting some outside catastrophe, Kroekus had many more years ahead of him before the ravages of old-age would claim him through natural processes.

  Nigel McCarthy was to be the catastrophe that would cheat Kroekus out of his remaining years.

  “So, my old friend, we meet again,” said Nigel. “I see you lost a little weight while a guest of the Juireans.”

  “An unfortunate happenstance which I have been attempting to remedy, yet I believe by your presence here, I may fall short of my goal.”

  “Sorry about that, old chap, but we all have our jobs to do.”

  Nigel moved to the stateroom’s food processing station, and finding it was still in operation, called up a stout ale. After the beverage had been dispensed, he savored its dark amber color and took a long swig. “Not as good as they make at The Old Coffee House in Soho, but considering how far I am from there, it’s not too bad.”

  “You do realize Adam Cain is going to kill you.” Kroekus made the statement as clear and unemotional as he would when stating his own name. In his mind, there was no doubt as to its truthfulness.

  “That may be so, Kroekus; if anyone could do it, it would be him.” Nigel drained the beer and set the glass on the counter. “But it won’t be today, I’m afraid.”

  “I had envisioned a glorious death-match to be held between the two of you," Kroekus said. "Two of the mightiest warriors in recent history battling it out to the death, hand-to-hand. Can I not still arrange that for the two of you? Killing me will be no challenge, and I do know how much Humans enjoy a good challenge."

  "You know, that is not far off from my own fantasy conclusion to this chapter in the series; however, as I grow older now and with so much more to lose, I think I'll pass. My ego has been tempered recently to the point where I don't risk my future on some temporary gratification."

  "So will I die or be taken prisoner…or be set free? You know I can offer you all my wealth in exchange for my life.”

  “I do appreciate the offer, mate, but seeing that I’m now about to become the emperor of a galaxy, I don’t think wealth if going to matter much anymore, not when I can claim entire worlds as my personal playgrounds.”

  “Then possibly your prisoner, as a trophy to your domination over me?”

  “You are the consummate salesman, are you not, Kroekus of Silea? You know how to touch the nerves and press the buttons of all your customers. What you just said does make sense and is something I’m going to do—just not with you.”

  The smile vanished from Nigel’s face and he stepped in closer to Kroekus. The alien recoiled, leaning back on the bed with his massive stomach now forming a berm between his head and the Human. “You betrayed me, Kroekus!” Nigel shouted over the protruding stomach. “Even though I have managed quite well in spite of that, you were supposed to have joined me in the Cloud as a partner, not as an enemy. And even worse than that, seeing how long you've been preparing the Polimors for this war, I see you never intended for us to rule together. I was simply being used to help create tension between the Clans, and once your superior force took over the galaxy, I was to be discarded, like the bones from your last, disgustingly large meal.”

  “I displayed my confidence in your abilities when I sent you to Alic Kiran. For that you should be grateful.”

  “Grateful; are you serious? You were setting me up to fail. And as far as my abilities are concerned, like everyone else, you have again underestimated them.”

  Nigel turned his back to Kroekus. “As I said, I do want a trophy prisoner as a reward for my efforts here, yet because of your betrayal, that trophy cannot be you.”

  He turned to face Kroekus again, but this time after removing a foot-long tube from his utility belt. “Do you know what this is?”

  “Of course,” said the Silean. “It is an electronic sword.”

  “Correct.” Nigel pressed a button on the rod and the blade extended outward two feet from the handle, tapering to a pinpoint that glowed with a pale blue shimmer. “There’s an imaginary weapon on back on Earth called a light-saber that was popular in the movies a long time ago. This weapon comes the closest to that, with an electric charge creating over a thousand degrees running along the microscopic leading edge of the blade. There is very little that can resist it—”

  “Such as Silean flesh.”

  “Bingo, as they say in America!”

  “And what is to become of my head?”

  “Well, since we’ve been talking about trophies, I’m sure I can think of something appropriate.”

  Kroekus sat forward once again. He was wearing a typical Silean-style gold and blue shirt with a high collar; he folded down the collar, revealing his foot-wide, fleshy neck. “I am told this will not hurt.”

  Nigel smiled. �
��Oh, I wouldn’t count on that.”

  The Human then reached out with his left hand, grabbing Kroekus by the hair on his head and pulled up, causing the neck to stretch out even further. And then with the blade in his right hand, Nigel McCarthy began to slowly slice through the soft flesh of the Silean, taking a full thirty seconds to complete his task. Kroekus screamed and thrashed about violently, until he could scream or thrash no more. And then the room fell silent.

  Nigel McCarthy now hoisted his trophy high in the air, in true gladiator fashion, before tossing the bloody orb onto the bed.

  He would send someone to retrieve the head of Kroekus; but right now he had to go find Adam Cain.

  Adam had moved farther along Level 19 until he reached the end, at the mess hall for this part of the ship. There were five such dining areas on the Goliath, each capable of feeding a thousand crewmembers at a time, so the room was huge.

  The defense of the level had taken place elsewhere, near the elevators and stairways, so the eating area was relatively undisturbed. Three corridors feed into the room, and Adam could cover them all from inside the serving room. There was a long half-wall facing into the expanse of the dining area, with a heavy metal shelf where food would be laid out. Adam stationed himself at the forward end of the partition and unslung the Xan-fi flash rifle from around his back.

  Earlier, as he had fought the alien invaders, he had used only the MK and his hands; even so, the rifle only had the charge pack it carried plus two spares on his utility belt. The MK was drained, no power packs remaining.

  He reasoned he could hold out here for the first couple of assault surges before he’d run out of charge for the rifle—that was if they didn’t come in lobbing concussion grenades. CG’s were often the best way of clearing a room of resistance and Nigel would know that.