by T. R. Harris
“I say let him stay,” said Nigel McCarthy as he rose from the couch.
“I’ll do what you want, Nigel, you know that.” Simone’s voice was still thick with doubt.
“Good, now I have to get back to the battle. Please remain here, Eric, and make yourself comfortable. There’s a head and a food processing station here in the ready room.”
“Can I not watch from the bridge? The battle—and your victory—should be glorious.”
“I don’t think I need any distractions right at the moment and having you on the bridge might make me do things just to impress you. Once the battle is over, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each better. Until then, please remain here. Come, Simone. Your presence is requested on the bridge.”
Nigel rushed out of the ready room, which emptied onto the bridge through the forward doorway, and into a long corridor leading to the officer’s staterooms and the damage control center at the rear.
As she followed Nigel back to the bridge, Simone Dubois stopped in front of Eric and leaned in close. “I want to trust you, I really do; however, at this point I cannot afford that luxury. I will be watching you for the proof I need—either way. Is that understood?”
“Of course, ma’am, I will try not to let you down.”
Eric could see Simone battling her own internal doubts, as she eventually turned away and left him alone in the ready room.
Eric McCarthy stared at the closed door for a long moment, a wide grin escaping his lips. “This could all be mine,” he whispered, “a galaxy and an empire, along with unlimited power and unimaginable wealth. What more could a guy ask for?”
172
“We count over a thousand ships surrounding us, Admiral. It is like a swisher nest back on Rigor.”
“I imagine that to be comparable to a beehive on Earth, Captain. How are the shields holding?”
“They hold, yet they cannot absorb this much energy without eventually burning out. And we have not even taken bolts from the Goliath, not yet.”
“We have to get through this mass of ships and on to the Goliath,” Tobias said. “Captain Krin is right, we cannot stick around here and take this many hits.” Admiral Tobias was addressing his senior advisors, those being Sherri, Riyad, Kaylor and Jym, along with the newest addition, Qwels Nur.
“I can have my remaining local ships clear a path with their sacrifice, Admiral. I regret having to do so, but there is more battle occurring that just here.”
“I also regret having to ask you to do that, but we can’t remain bogged down here while the Goliath goes unscathed. How soon can you organize the units?”
“Five minutes. Prepare for a rapid thrust through the center of my ships for that time frame. It should be enough for you to move the Leviathan into clear space within the vicinity of the Goliath, at least until the enemy can regroup and come at us from the rear.”
“I don’t believe the Goliath will be expecting us to be at full power, so we should have surprise on our side.” Riyad said.
“We will not be at full power if we do not depart this space very soon,” added Captain Krin.
“Agreed,” said Andy Tobias. “Captain, prepare for max sub-light acceleration on my command. Also pre-aim the seeker bolts at the gravity signature of the Goliath. We need to make an impression right away, and the seekers could come as real surprise in their own right.”
On Andy’s command the Leviathan made a radical shift to port and then sped off towards the Goliath. With twenty-four focusing rings at their disposal, they were able to establish influencing gravity wells at just about any angle, and with the internal compensators the most-advanced in two galaxies, the crew was spared the body-crushing effect of such drastic inertia shifts.
To the naked eye, it appeared as though the ship disappeared and then reappeared at another point in space, and in conjunction with the maneuver, they also sent a number of cannon bolts streaking across what was now empty space. Since plasma bolts are ballistic in nature, once fired they close a target in a straight line, unable to be controlled. Yet the Leviathan employed a new technology, at least she did in four of her eighteen weapons batteries.
With these special flash cannon, a small trailing gravity-powered drone is fired a fraction of second behind the leading bolt. This pod is able to create tiny influencing wells along the path of the bolt, now allowing it to be steered towards a target. Admiral Tobias was hoping these seekers would catch the Goliath off guard. Once on target, they would still have to contend with the formidable diffusion screens, but the more hits from the powerful batteries of the Leviathan the sooner the shields would reach their maximum storage capacity and fail. Yet even with the seekers, it was going to be long day of battle, and with the outcome still to be determined.
And now the Leviathan was also experiencing the harassing fire from literally a thousand shield ships guarding the Goliath. Even a vessel as large and powerful as this one was not designed to absorb such a load of plasma fire. Andy Tobias was growing concerned, questioning whether he had bitten off more than he could chew. Simply going up against the Goliath was one thing; it was all the other ships McCarthy had invited to the party that had him worried.
173
Simone Dubois placed a small secondary image in the corner of her screen that displayed the interior of the ready room so she could keep an eye on Eric McCarthy. She didn’t trust him, yet until she had some concrete evidence against Nigel’s son, he would never listen to her. So she went about her duties, monitoring security threats surrounding the Goliath, while also watching the secondary screen for anything unusual.
Eric had gone to the head and then made a drink of some kind at the processing station before sitting down at the computer in the room. Nigel and she hadn’t thought to deactivate the device, so she had no idea what he was doing. He could simply be looking for an update on the battle taking place beyond the hull of the Goliath, or he could be up to no good.
She had just begun a frantic search of the various monitors on the ship, trying to isolate that particular unit, when Eric suddenly rose from the chair and left the room through the rear door. She wasn’t sure where he was going, yet she had her suspicions. She changed the parameters of her search, and in a moment had the information she was looking for.
With the MK-17 flash weapon still holstered around her waist, Simone left the bridge, heading for the express elevator. Eric had a head start, yet she knew a quicker route.
Eric McCarthy walked nonchalantly down the Level Six corridor watching the room numbers as he passed. Several crewmembers walked by, many without second glances, yet a few did stare, from the rarity of him being a Human, as well as the familiarity of his look. A few even saluted him as they passed.
He came up to a guard seated outside a room and knew he had reached his destination. The guard stood as he approached, and from his expression he appeared to be as confused as most of the others Eric had encountered.
“I am Eric McCarthy, son of the Lord of the Clan. I am here to escort the prisoner to the bridge. Please open the door.”
The guard hesitated. “I have not received such orders, My Lord. It will be a moment as I verify.”
“Go ahead.”
As the crewmember leaned down toward the seat to pick up a datapad, Eric stepped towards him and placed a solid fist to the side of the guard’s head. The alien collapsed to the deck and remained still. Eric stood back and looked at his clenched fist with satisfaction. This was the first creature he’d ever hit, and he was surprised how easy it had been. He had been told how physically superior Humans were to other species, and now he had experienced it firsthand.
He moved to the door only to find it required a security code to open, and with the guard unconscious—and most-likely dead—Eric had no way of knowing the code.
Eric then noticed the alien’s weapon still in its holster. He took it, aimed it at the locking mechanism and fired a bolt. Instantly a brilliant ricochet angled off the metal door, striking the
ceiling, then the opposite wall of the corridor and finally the deck next to Eric’s feet. The young man jumped with a squeal and dropped the weapon in his panic.
“Is that you, Eric?” asked a voice from beyond the door.
“Yes it is.”
“Set the weapon at Level-One and then try it again.”
“I could be killed!”
“Just do it. It will work, trust me.”
Eric located the gun on the deck, and after making the adjustments, he stood back a good six feet from the locking mechanism and took aim. He turned his head and squinted as he depressed the trigger, preparing for the worst.
The results were much more satisfying this time, as the lock shattered into a hundred pieces, and the door fell open a few inches.
“That worked, Eric, so now lower the weapon. I’m coming out.”
Adam edged the door open and found an immensely-satisfied-with-himself Eric McCarthy grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Good job,” Adam said as he noticed the unconscious guard on the deck.
“Yes it was,” Eric beamed. “But now the rest is up to you—”
Eric suddenly fell into Adam, knocking him sideways and to a point where he tripped over the inert body of the guard. The young McCarthy also collapsed on the deck, unconscious, and a moment later Adam knew why.
Simone Dubois stepped into view, clenching the MK-17 she had just used to hammer the side of Eric’s head. She now stepped over both Eric and the guard to stand over Adam, the MK now pointed directly at his head.
“I would have shot him if he wasn’t Nigel’s son; he may do that himself once he learns how he’s been betrayed by his own flesh and blood. Yet you, Adam Cain, you get no special consideration. In fact, Nigel may thank me for doing the one thing he’s never had the courage to do himself.”
Adam glanced around the corridor quickly looking for an escape route. He was sitting on the cold metal deck, with a connecting corridor six feet away. Yet the tall blonde with the flash weapon was only three feet from him, and the way she confidently held the MK told him he wouldn’t make it six inches before she’d blast a hole through his forehead.
“This is so satisfying; I only wish Nigel could be here to see—”
Adam caught sight of the metal chair arcing through the air a split second before it impacted the right shoulder of Simone Dubois. It was the chair the guard had been sitting on, and now being wielded by a suddenly revived Eric McCarthy. The woman fell to the deck, yet just as Eric stepped closer to her and lifted the chair for one final blow, she kicked out with her right foot in an expert combat move and planted her boot firmly into Eric’s midsection.
The young man buckled over, his eyes wide with shock. The guard may have been the first creature he’d ever hit, yet this was his first time he’d been struck. The pain was something he was ill-prepared for.
Eric collapsed onto the woman, who attempted to aim the weapon she still held in her grasp at the young man now clawing at her face. Adam could tell this wasn’t going to last long; Eric had absolutely no hand-to-hand combat training, and it was obvious that was not the case with Simone.
Adam began to climb to his feet just as he saw the two combatants begin to fight for possession of the MK, with two pairs of strong Human hands now wrapped around the device. That’s when Adam saw the thin-metal barrel of the weapon bend over at a forty-five degree angle—just as Simone fingered the trigger.
A loud squealing erupted from the weapon, growing rapidly in volume and pitch. Adam knew what was coming, so in the lighter gravity aboard the Goliath—an accommodation to the aliens who made up the vast bulk of the crew—he kicked off the side wall of the corridor and slid on his stomach into the joining hallway—just as the MK exploded.
Choking smoke filled the corridor, and there was a strange rumbling vibration in the deck that continued for several seconds after the explosion. Adam stood, and after taking a moment to gather his resolve, he looked around the corner.
It was as bad as he expected, with the walls, ceiling and deck covered with dripping body parts painted in red mush. There was nothing left of either Eric or Simone that was recognizable; even the guard’s body was now part of the bloody mixture.
Adam knew that when bolt launchers—such as the MK-series—have their barrels obstructed, then triggering a bolt would result in an overload and an explosion resembling that of a powerful hand grenade. He had been fortunate that a joining hallway was nearby. Otherwise they would be cleaning his remains off the walls, along with the others.
But now he had a job to do, and he was sure the explosion would attract attention.
He headed down the familiar passageway of the Goliath, a vessel he’d spent two months aboard before Nigel captured it. Adam and Eric, in their earlier research aboard the Leviathan into what a single person—or two—could do to disable a ship as large as the Goliath, it had been concluded that there wasn’t much that could be done; however, they could do something to make the ship more vulnerable to outside forces. They could disable one or more of the shield banks. Yet even that wasn’t a sure fix. The Goliath had four distinct diffusion screens, with the controls for each separated by at least a hundred yards of guarded passageway. It had been designed that way, just so what Adam was contemplating couldn’t be done. The most he could hope for was to disable one of the banks, along with the added hope that the Leviathan would react in time before the shields rebooted.
The control room for the starboard shield bank was the closest, so Adam sprinted down the corridor, passing startled crewmembers, none of which had the nerve to question a Human running past them. He entered the open doorway of the control room and was immediately confronted by three aliens, each wearing the distinctive orange jumpsuit of the Goliath crew. Adam didn’t have time for pleasantries, so he dispatched them quickly and heaved their limp bodies into the outer corridor.
Unfortunately, none of them carried weapons, and he didn’t have the time to search the room for any. Instead he moved to the shield control console and sat down. He was somewhat familiar with the operation of diffusion shields, yet this control board was a lot more complicated than any he’d ever seen. He not only had to find a way of deactivating the shields, but also to make it impossible for them to be reengaged, while also giving himself time to get off the Goliath before all hell broke loose. As he stared at the myriad of controls that made up the control console, he didn’t have a clue where to begin.
174
Even though the explosion occurred six levels below the bridge deck, Nigel McCarthy still felt it, if only its faint reverberations afterwards.
“There has been an explosion on Level Six,” a crewmember reported, which only confirmed what Nigel already knew and suspected. Level Six was where he had ordered Adam Cain to be held.
He looked over at Simone’s station and found it vacant. He gritted his teeth. He was reluctant to speculate beyond the obvious, yet when he saw the small inset image on her screen, showing a now-vacant ready room, he knew his suspicions were correct.
And he had really cared for the tall Amazon….
Now he pulled his own MK-17 and dialed it up to Level-One as he left the bridge. He had a feeling of inevitability as he entered the express elevator, heading for Level One—the engines, weapons and launch bay level. He didn’t even bother stopping at Level Six; he knew what he was seeking wouldn’t be there, and when he exited the elevator forty seconds later he already had a pretty good idea where he’d find it.
The three unconscious bodies in the passageway outside the starboard shield control room verified his belief, and now he slid along the side wall and did a quick look inside the room.
There was Adam Cain—and only Adam Cain—sitting at the main shield control panel and facing the entrance. He was frantically pushing buttons, turning knobs and pulling levers. Nigel stepped into the room, his weapon aimed at Adam’s head twenty feet away.
With the gravity of the Goliath set at seventy-five percent of Earth normal, both Humans w
ould experience increase speed and strength compared to the alien crewmembers. Yet here were two Humans, so the odds were pretty much even.
Adam spotted Nigel the moment he entered and managed to duck under the lip of the console just as the first bolt singed his hair just above his left ear. He dove to the deck and began to crawl to his right. Most of the equipment in the room was elevated slightly on six inch supports, so Nigel was able to see which direction Adam headed.
McCarthy crouched down and began to rapidly move to his left in order to cut off Adam’s escape. What he didn’t know was that as soon as Adam was sure Nigel had seen him move to his right, he had reversed course and scurried off to the left. He came out from behind a bank of controls, just as Nigel noticed the movement behind him.
Adam placed a well-aimed spin kick onto Nigel’s gun hand, sending the lightweight weapon soaring high into the air and across the room. Adam watched its flight until it hit the deck and slid under an equipment bank.
Adam’s mistake was to become so engrossed in the flight path of the MK that he didn’t notice Nigel coming at him in a bull-like charge. The two came together with a thud, leaving their footing, and crashing into a metal box with enough force to knock the air from Adam’s lungs. He began to cough, as several powerful blows struck his midsection. Then an unseen fist drove itself into the left side of his head, and soon Adam was face down on the cold deck with the taste of blood in his mouth.
He rolled over, raising his arms and legs into a defensive posture for the follow up attack, an attack that never came. He widened his eyes, only to see Nigel McCarthy standing in the center of the room with a toothy grin on his face.
“So Adam, it has finally come down to this—the grudge match Kroekus had envisioned.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Just the two of us, with no weapons but these.” He backed up some and squared his stance as Adam climbed to his feet. “As we begin this, I want you to remember every session I had with you over the past six months, and how you know you can’t defeat me, not now, not ever.”