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

by T. R. Harris

  His only real concern at the moment was how could he get close enough to Nigel McCarthy to take him out? Even if it cost Adam his own life, he would consider that a fair trade. Yet barricading himself in this massive dining room would afford him cover and a chance to fend off the enemy for a while, yet it didn’t guarantee a face-to-face with Nigel.

  Adam had a couple of CG’s himself, and he knew if he could detonate one pressed hard against Nigel’s gut that the resulting explosion could still kill. But he didn’t see Nigel giving him that opportunity. Even if he surrendered, he would be searched thoroughly before he could get near to Nigel. And he didn't have the time or the material to build a remote-detonated device.

  Nigel would use the still-functioning cameras within the ship to find him, and then direct his Human team to his location. Tackling a dozen or more aliens at a time was one thing; going up against that many Humans was another.

  After discarding the bomb idea, Adam had to find another way of killing Nigel McCarthy.

  The engines! Adam knew the mighty starship didn't have self-destruct capability—he'd asked about that earlier—yet it did possess the most-powerful gravity drive in two galaxies. Yet with the outer section of the ring portals damaged could a gravity-well even be created within the confines of the Goliath—

  And then it dawned on him: What about the internals?

  But not as a last resort, but as a weapon?

  He kicked himself for not thinking of this earlier. The ship still had internal gravity, so that meant the generators for these miniature black holes were still operating. And they were located near the main engine room. In order to create localized gravity throughout the entire ship, the dozen or so internals running the length of the ship had to create their singularities off the ship, just below the lowest deck. The gravity for the Goliath was set at what was essentially Juirean-standard and was within the tolerances of the majority of alien species, both in the Milky Way and also here in Tanic.

  If he could get to the main controls, he could crank up the gravity throughout the ship to such a point where Nigel’s alien troops would be incapacitated. And it couldn’t be set just to Human-standard. He would have to go higher, to a point where the Humans would also be affected, including Nigel McCarthy and his merry band of followers.

  Could he struggle against such an increase in gravity and still be able to function? The answer came from the fact that during his seven month trip to the Cloud, he had spent most of it living in gravity equal to one-hundred twenty-five percent of Earth normal. His muscles were attuned to the increase, something that had just manifested itself when he took on twenty alien invaders at the stairwell an hour earlier.

  Adjusting the gravity to that degree—and maybe even a little higher—would certainly wreak havoc on the aliens aboard. It might even slow down Nigel’s Humans, if not Nigel himself. Even if it didn't, there was another advantage to his plan. Since the Goliath had centrally-control internal gravity, Nigel and his men would have to come to the generator room to put the gravity back to normal, and that would be when Adam would pounce.

  The only tiny glitch in his plan was that the engine room was located eighteen levels below him, and by now, the entire ship was overrun by Nigel’s troops. Somehow he had to make his way there, and through thousands of aliens all out looking for him.

  He thought of his options. He could fight his way there, but that would leave a trail of dead aliens behind him, broadcasting his final destination to Nigel. So fighting his way there was out of the question.

  Could he make it there in the ductwork of the ship, as they always seemed to be able to do in the movies? That he doubted. And besides, with the size of the Goliath and all the airtight bulkheads between here and the generator room, he would have to crawl the equivalent of twenty miles or more.

  So he had to get there without being seen.

  Or more correctly, without Adam Cain being seen.

  Adam thought back to his short shopping excursion on Vicor, right at the beginning of this latest adventure. All he'd been able to procure in town while waiting for Nurick to show up with the power-mods had been a few items for his food processor. It hadn't been much; some master paste ingredients, along with an assortment of food coloring. The processors could simulate just about any taste, but without the proper coloring, the experience could be quite unsettling.

  So somewhere in this huge kitchen there had to be color dyes.

  After five minutes of tearing though storage holds, drawers and cabinets, Adam found what he was looking for. He took it to the nearest restroom—there were six near the mess hall—and set to work.

  Nigel and Adam were of the same body type—stocky and naturally muscular—although the Brit was a good two inches taller. Still, they both had blue eyes and square jaws. So Adam mixed a little of the red food coloring with some yellow and brown, and after a little experimentation came up with a passable orange. He dabbed a cloth towel in the mixture and then set about applying the coloring to the blond hair on his head.

  From the early video conversation he had with Nigel, he knew his hair was shorter than Adam's, but he was sure none of the aliens would notice.

  Next he took some of the brown dye and using the tip from one of the color bottles, proceeded to give his face an ample and obvious supply of freckles.

  After the freckles, he thought back to the video again and tried to remember what Nigel was wearing when he boarded the Goliath. He had to duplicate the outfit he was wearing, as best he could, even though there was a very good chance that ninety-nine percent of the invaders hadn't seen their leader that morning to know what he was wearing. Still, Adam had to make the effort. Fortunately, from what he remembered, Nigel was wearing jeans and a light brown jacket covering an unseen shirt except for its brown collar.

  Adam was wearing jeans already, and a quick search of the galley revealed a number of dark green jackets that were part of the uniform of the Goliath. Adam only wore a form-fitting dark green combat t-shirt, now stained in alien blood.

  He removed the t-shirt and was pleasantly surprised to find that the green jackets were reversible, with a lighter green interior. He tried on the jacket. He would only be trying to fool Nigel's troops, who were themselves all dressed in an assortment of mismatched outfits. Yet they had just fought against thousands of crewmembers all wearing the dark green uniforms of the Goliath. The light green of the inside-out jacket would set him apart from the crew.

  He studied his image in the bathroom's mirror. This just might work. Now he spent a few seconds practicing his Cockney accent.

  At long last, it was show time.

  160

  Adam was hoping that the hastily culled together assault force of Nigel's would not be that intimate with their leader, especially seeing that he had only recently—within the past couple of weeks—risen to public prominence. All they would see was an arrogant, orange haired Human, which, naturally, had to be Nigel McCarthy. Who else could it be?

  He now walked briskly down the deserted corridor outside the galley, and not more than fifty yards down encountered his first batch of Nigel's raiders. He went unarmed, not even wearing a utility belt, hoping to add to his air of superiority and confidence.

  The aliens looked at him with curiosity, yet none challenged him.

  As he neared the midpoint of the corridor, and closer to the elevators, he began to encounter literally hundreds of Nigel's aliens. Finally someone said something.

  "Lord McCarthy, is that you?" said one of the older aliens, wearing what Adam knew to be a Security Corps uniform.

  "It is," said Adam with the thickest British accent he could conjure up. "I have come to survey your progress here. You are...?"

  "Sub-Commander Rislof, my Lord," the alien answered. "We have this section of the deck secure to the forward bulkhead. The problem we are having, however, is the sheer number of prisoners and what to do with them. Normally this many crew would be distributed throughout the ship, and not all on one le
vel."

  "That is all very interesting, Sub-Commander, yet I have another task for you."

  "Yes, my Lord?"

  "I'm needed desperately in lower Generator Room Eight, and with that bloody Adam Cain still loose on the ship, I will need a security escort. Choose ten of your best fighters and then you and your troops accompany me to the generator room. You have done well here, Sub-Commander. I will note that when I make my next round of battlefield promotions. Now gather your troops. I have no time to waste, mate."

  With enthusiasm, Rislof assembled Adam's/Nigel's escort and they set off making their way through throngs of alien invaders. Adam had been right about the number of fighters Nigel would throw into the cause. Even with so many dead—on both sides—the ship was still packed with aliens on every level. The Goliath had a normal compliment of five thousand, which as anyone who's spent time aboard a military naval vessel knows are always overcrowded, even under normal conditions. What Adam was experiencing aboard the Goliath went way beyond overcrowding. He had to smile slightly at the thought that Nigel had fully expected most of these aliens to be killed by now, yet his offer of amnesty to the remainder of the Goliath crew had spared far more than he was expecting and setting up this logistics nightmare for him and his men.

  This overabundance of aliens, along with Adam's/Nigel's public notoriety, caused another problem. Nearly all the aliens wanted to get a glimpse of their new Lord of the Clan as he moved between levels. And the news traveled fast that their leader was among them.

  So it was inevitable that sooner or later one of Nigel's Human-Hundred would hear of his presence nearby and come to join him. That person was Darius Owens, a thirty-eight-year-old black man from Portland, Oregon. He had served briefly in the U.S. Army, before heading off into space to join the Expansion military when the Humans were in control. When they left, he stayed behind and went to work for Kroekus doing a number of odd jobs, yet all involving strong-arm tactics using his natural Human abilities. The Silean then offered him an unbelievable amount of credits to join Nigel's expedition, and he took it.

  Now he would hook up with McCarthy and see if he could do anything more interesting than mop-up duties, now that the battle was over.

  Adam was pressed into an ever-tighter envelop of alien escorts, as his adoring masses grew more numerous with each passing minute. The success of his ruse was more than he counted on, and now he knew he was attracting too much attention.

  And that's when he heard a voice call out to him—or more correctly—to Nigel.

  "Yo, man, wait up!"

  The language was definitely English—American English— and had to be coming from one of Nigel's Hundred.

  Adam pressed on, acting like he hadn't heard the call.

  "Dude, slow down, and tell these geeks to let me through."

  Adam turned to one of his escorts and asked for the alien's weapon. Without question, the creature offered it up; Adam clicked it to Level-One.

  The Human approached from behind and was upon him before Adam had a chance to turn away. "Nigel—or should I say Your Majesty."

  Adam turned and stepped up to the Human, with the flash weapon pressed firmly against his chest. Adam's disguise must have been better than he thought, because it took the man a few seconds to realize that this was not Nigel McCarthy, and that what he felt against his chest was the barrel of a flash weapon.

  "Relax, soldier," Adam said in a low growl. "This is set at Level-One, so it will burn a hole all the way through your body."

  "Mother—"

  "Let's not cause a scene. Now get in front of me and stay close. And remember, this adoring horde thinks I'm their new messiah. One word from me and you're toast."

  "I hope you didn't mean anything racial by calling me toast."

  "Hadn't even crossed my mind. Now get moving."

  Nigel McCarthy's datapad chimed and when he pressed the button the face of Declan Sims showed on the screen.

  "Do you want me to meet you at the generator room? I have Russ and Williams with me, too. So what's up?"

  Nigel blinked a couple of times while shaking his head. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. What generator room, and why would I be going there?"

  "I thought it was Gen Room Eight, from what I'm being told. And I don't know why you're going there. You tell me."

  "First of all, I'm not going to any generator room—number eight or any other number. And secondly, I still don't know what the bloody hell you're talking about. I'm on the bridge."

  Nigel saw Sims' expression suddenly grow very serious. "So you're not on Level-Two and on your way Gen Room Eight?"

  The two Humans shared matching sour looks on their respective datapad screens. "Cain, isn't it?" said Sims without a question mark.

  "That blood bastard. Why is he going to Gen Room Eight?"

  Nigel was unfamiliar with the majority of the systems aboard the Goliath, and definitely at a loss as to the layout of the ship, so he ordered one of the captured bridge crew to call up a schematic of Gen Room Eight. The moment he saw the room's designation, he knew exactly what Cain was up to.

  "Dec, get as many of your men to that room. That's where internal gravity is regulated."

  "He's going to turn off the gravity?"

  "No, he's going to increase it."

  Next Nigel opened the ship-wide intercom. "Listen up everyone, this is Nigel McCarthy. Adam Cain is on or near Level-Two and heading for Generator Room Eight. He is posing as me, so stop him. And all the Humans onboard, get to the generator room as soon as possible. Don't let him get in there!"

  Adam's entourage began to slow as Nigel's voice boomed from the speakers. The aliens around him began to frown and look on him with suspicion.

  Adam pressed the barrel of the flash weapon in the ribs of his Human escort. "You tell them," Adam whispered. "Go ahead."

  "That was Adam Cain just trying to confuse you," Darius said. "This here is the real Nigel McCarthy."

  Several of the aliens nodded. "This Adam Cain sure is deceitful, is he not" asked the alien Rislof."

  "More than you can know, Sub-Commander," replied Adam. "Now let's hurry. The room is right down the corridor and there's no telling what else that bloody bastard will try next." He shoved the Human and the entourage began to move again.

  "There they are!" someone yelled in English.

  "Got 'em."

  There was a commotion taking place at both ends of the corridor, with Gen Room Number Eight right in the middle. "What the hell are you doing? That's Cain, not McCarthy. Stop them!"

  Sub-Commander Rislof stopped in his tracks and turned to Adam. This time there was no doubt in his eyes, only anger, along with a mix of fear.

  "Sorry," Adam said with a smirk. And then he smashed his left fist into the alien's face.

  Darius took the opportunity to lay an elbow of his own into Adam's ribs. The flash weapon ignited but missed the Human and struck another of the alien escort. A Level-One bolt, hitting a soft-tissue alien, was not a pretty sight.

  But Adam now had other things on his mind, like how to keep the big black man from beating his brains out. After taking a couple of solid blows to the head, Adam fell back into the crowd of aliens, many of which still hadn't come to comprehend what was going on. Several tried to help him to his feet.

  Which only put him in range of the next fist flying in from the big Human. Adam had no choice. With the flash weapon still in his grip, he let loose with another bolt. Darius Owens took the blast directly in his chest and fell to the deck.

  There was only one Human Adam was interested in killing, and it hadn't been this man. But now he had to get his mind back in the game. There were other Humans in the corridor, and they would surely kill him if given the chance. And then there were the dozens of aliens all around, many of whom now knew the truth about the orange-haired Human. Weapons began to be drawn.

  Adam opened up with his MK, cutting down three aliens before realizing he still had it set at Level-One. Even on
a full charge, there were typically only five shots available at that level, and he had no idea what the charge life was on the power pack when he got the weapon from the escort. He quickly set it down to Level-Two while diving at the three dead aliens on the deck and grabbing another weapon.

  A flash bolt hit him from behind—a Level-Two. He screamed out in pain from the burn, but then turned and sent five quick shots into the crowd, firing two weapons at once. His first bolt launcher went dry, so he tossed it aside; he turned and ran down the corridor toward the generator room, while firing with the other weapon behind him.

  Several of the aliens had run for cover and were only now regrouping when Adam entered the open doorway to his destination. He was greeted by no less than four poorly aimed flash bolts.

  He fell for cover behind a large piece of heavy equipment built into the deck and took aim at two of the exposed aliens in the room. His aim was true, and they both went down. But then, so did his bolt launcher.

  "Piece of crap!" he yelled. He had always hated the limited capacity of flash weapons, and now with more aliens beginning to enter the room, he longed for his trusty FN SCAR close quarters combat weapon and a full 20-round magazine. Damn, with that, he could really have some fun....

  He looked around at the room he was in, knowing that this was where the internal gravity was set, yet he had no idea where the controls were, or even what they looked like. Would it be something he would have to call up on a computer screen and manipulate that way? Or was it a lever of some kind?

  There was a bank of computer monitors off to his right, and so he hurried off that way, staying in a crouch behind a massive turbine of some kind.

  "Well I'll be damned," he said as he approached the console. There was a long lever, set in the wall between two dark monitors, and with words written above it. Fortunately, the words were in Juirean, and even though he didn't understand a lot of Juirean, he did recognize the word for gravity. It was written on all their engines—including those built by the Formilians. He didn't know what the other words meant, but a large lever with the word gravity written above it would have to do.