by T. R. Harris
Indeed, Adam longed for the simple life again; although at the time, life didn’t seem all that simple. It’s all relative, as the genius Albert Einstein once postulated. Adam laughed to himself. It seemed even genius is relative. And with that thought, he wondered where Panur was at that very moment, and what trouble he was cooking up for the Milky Way Galaxy?
The Klin mothership had held off a distance from the TD-1 star system and watched with stunned reactions as the combined Human and Juirean fleet made quick work of the Sol-Kor forces. Even without the means to defeat the suppressor beam, they found a way around it. The strategy was simple, yet effective, and revealed to the Klin the limits of the alien’s war thinking. For too long the creatures from another dimension had relied on their blue beam to win the day. Now they were up against creatures who practiced war as a vocation. If the Sol-Kor didn’t learn the art of war themselves—and learn it quickly—they may find this galaxy a little too hot for their liking, no matter how good the brain matter was here.
After being briefed by Molison on Panur and his abilities, Senior Fellow Zimfelous and the others reluctantly agreed to allow him virtual free reign of the ship, much as he had with the Sol-Kor.
Still, that didn’t stop the analytical Klin from testing his claims.
While the mutant was distracted during a tour guided by Molison Jons, another of the Klin approached Panur from behind and placed an MK-47 Level-One plasma bolt into his back. What happened next left the Klin speechless and very afraid.
Panur had reacted to the blast by closing his eyes and arching his back, while an almost erotic look came over his face. As the flash from the bolt dissipated, Panur let out a long, emotional sigh before opening his eyes again.
“Thank you for that,” the alien said. “I haven’t eaten in a while. And I must say, that is some real good energy you have there.” He turned to the shooter and snatched the weapon from him. “May I?” And then he turned the weapon on himself and pulled the trigger again.
This time the bolt impacted the creature directly in the chest, burning a large hole in his garment, yet only serving to make his pale skin glow at the point of impact. Once more the ecstatic expression. He returned to normal as the glow on his skin subsided.
The amused grin returned to his face. “I told you I absorb energy in a unique way. While the rest of you get yours in the form of converted food energy, I receive mine directly from the source. It’s more efficient and lasts much longer that way. It will now be a month or longer before I require food again.”
He stopped and looked at Molison. “I know you had to test me, and now that you have, I trust there will be no more such episodes? One is all you’re allowed. However, scientist, I must ask that you supply me with a weapon and battery packs for my future use. I have at last discovered the one thing this universe has to offer. That was some of the purest energy I’ve experienced in a long while. After this, I may become spoiled. Now Molison Jons, please proceed with the tour, unless this has all been another ruse on the part of the Klin? If so, then I would suggest you stop it. Any more attempts to deceive will certainly upset me. And as I said before, that is something you do not wish to do.”
198
Sherri was able to detect the faint, tell-tale sign of the Sol-Kor jump drive, even though she had to turn the gain all the way on high and then dampened the squeal that came from the sensors.
The Abraham Lincoln was a huge carrier vessel, over a thousand feet long and capable of carrying sixty-five strikecraft in her launch bays. Sherri found tracking the alien gravity trail extremely difficult while aboard the huge ship. The Lincoln’s own drives disturbed the surrounding space so much that as they gained speed, Sherri would lose the signal completely, requiring them to slow down and backtrack to find it again.
“This is ridiculous,” she finally said, leaning back on the console chair and throwing off her headphones. “We need a smaller ship, yet one with the proper tracking gear. The Pegasus had what I needed, but the Lincoln is just too big. Too much interference.”
“We could equip an SES with the right gear and set you off in that.” Tobias offered.
“What’s an SES?”
“It stands for Surface Effect Ship,” the Admiral explained. “It’s taken from the line of double-hulled, fast attack warships the Navy had back about the time the Juireans hit us. Of course we don’t make them anymore—at least not for the water. But we have begun to build some smaller, faster ships, much like the Pegasus, for use in the regular Navy…I mean the regular space navy.”
“You have one aboard?”
“No, but there are a few within the fleet. It will only take a couple of days to get one here.”
“Better hurry, Admiral. The signal is getting weaker the further we fall behind.”
Adam was on the huge ship’s observation deck, watching the streaks of stars blur pass when Arieel Bol entered the room. He didn’t need to ask how she knew where he was; he had begun to sense her presence, as well. Maybe his ATD didn’t need tuning after all. Could he have subconsciously shut it down just to break the constant bond between them?
“So how have you been, Arieel? I understand the Order has undergone some changes?”
“Yes, it has. The people are not as content to believe in me as they once were, although the majority still do. It remains comforting for some to still believe in my connection with our gods Mislin and Sufor, even though it takes more faith than ever to maintain.”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to ruin your entire religion, your history.”
“You didn’t do anything, Adam. Even I was blinded to the truth. It is refreshing to finally know that one is not a demi-god. That was a lot of pressure to live up to.”
“I imagine it would be. And what about your father, Convor, and Trimen? Are they well?”
“My father is ill, as is expected of a being nearly two hundred years old. And as for Trimen, you do know we mated, and that I now have a daughter?”
“No, I hadn’t heard. Congratulations. I was out of the galaxy for a while and lost touch. What’s her name?”
“Lila. She is three now.”
“Will she be trained to take over for you?”
“It is still our way, although she may be the last of the Speakers.”
“Again, I’m sorry.”
Arieel smiled. “I am not. I wish for her to lead a life without boundaries and without such responsibilities from a young age. Now that I have experienced more of the galaxy—and other species—I wish the same for her.”
“Only one per Speaker, is that right?”
She suddenly became saddened again. “That was a practice imposed on us by the Order. Biologically, there is no such limitation.”
“Then have more children. And abdicate the role Lila must fill. Life is too short not to live it the way you want.”
Arieel smiled again. “You do know I’m the equivalent of ninety of your Earth years old, don’t you?”
Adam’s mouth fell open. “Damn, you look good for your age!”
“You mean for a Human great-great-grandmother? And here I thought you liked your females a little more mature, more experienced.”
The mischievous sparkle in her eye brought back a myriad of erotic memories for Adam. As it turned out, their flirtations made more sense than the reality of a physical relationship. They were of two different species, and no matter how physically superior Humans may be in other arenas, when it came to keeping up with the oversexed alien love machine, Adam was no match. Honestly, he would have endured as long as he could; however it was evident from the start that he couldn’t satisfy Arieel and all her needs. That was better left to other Formilians…the lucky bastards!
Suddenly, the streaks of stars outside went away, replaced now by the steady glow of their raging nuclear fires. The ship had dropped out of its gravity-well, and as far as Adam could tell, they were in the middle of nowhere. He looked at Arieel with pleading eyes.
“Go, Adam Cain.
The galaxy needs you.”
He kissed her on the cheek and then left the observation deck.
Arieel Bol watched him go, confused by the illogical resurrection of long-lost emotions. What it was about Adam Cain that attracted her so, she did not know. Yes, he was a larger-than-life figure, always running from one exciting adventure to the next. Yet he was also a reluctant hero. She knew his background; he never asked for any of this to happen. Perhaps that was what defined a hero. He did what he had to do when called upon, even if it was unwelcome and came at immense personal peril.
Yet the attachment Arieel felt to the Human went much deeper than simply the physical attraction and the aura of adventure he exuded. Especially now.
Arieel had told him the truth about the events of the past three years; she did indeed mate with Trimen, and she did have a child. What she failed to do was clarify the two events. They were not mutually inclusive.
At the time of her official mating duties, Arieel Bol was already with child. This news came as a shock to both her and the doctors. None had believed it possible for the two species to produce an offspring. They were wrong. Fortunately, Lila had all of Arieel’s features, so there was no need to question the lineage. Yet the blood and the DNA told the complete story.
Her father knew the truth, yet Trimen didn’t. He had his duties to fulfill and so did she.
Adam Cain may never learn the truth. If he did, it could become…complicated. He had lost a daughter years ago in the Juirean attack upon the Earth, and Arieel suspected he would seek in Lila a suitable replacement. That she could not abide. Even as she wished for her daughter to live a normal life beyond the Order and the responsibilities of her lineage, the scandal would destroy the religion that has given the Formilians direction—indeed their very identity—for over two thousand years.
Arieel and her confidants would keep the secret. They had to.
The Speaker of the Formilian race then turned to the vast observation window and peered out at the distant flaring lights—the life stars of a million diverse species. As much as she was distracted by the presence of Adam Cain, she could also comprehend the danger her galaxy now faced. She would do her part, and if that meant assisting Adam Cain in his endeavors then she would tolerate the conflicts she felt within. There was too much to lose not to do otherwise.
199
The Surface Effect Ship—dubbed the Falcon by her original crew—arrived aboard the Abraham Lincoln two days later. Tech crews swarmed in, around and over the starship, equipping it with the most-advanced and sensitive tracking equipment Human technology could provide. The ship was small, so only Adam, Sherri, Riyad—and now the ubiquitous Ophelia Naidu—were aboard when the vessel slipped out from Launch Bay Four of the carrier.
Sherri was incensed that Ophelia was with them. Besides the fact that she contributed nothing to the mission—she was a mining rights expert after all—she was also a distraction for Riyad. Sherri acknowledged her jealousy of the woman, even if the affair with Riyad had been over for several years. Yet in light of Arieel Bol’s appearance, Sherri felt she was losing the intimate bonds she once had with the two most important men in her life.
And now Sherri sat at the monitor screen of the highly-sensitive gravity-wave detectors, having to spot the smallest of anomalies…all the while fighting back visions of Adam with Arieel and Riyad with Ophelia. It was a wonder she even noticed the tiny blip when she did, even though it served to vanquish the visions and set her mind to purpose once again.
“This looks like it! We’ll know in about a minute if another appears.”
Adam sat in the pilot seat of the Falcon, at the center of the bridge and forward of her monitoring station.
“Maintain course heading?” he asked.
“For now. And I must say, this does look a lot clearer without all that miscellaneous bullshit the Lincoln was spewing out. If I pick up the trail again, I shouldn’t have any trouble following it. Do you think Riyad should be told about the contact?”
“I would if I thought he cared. He trusts you, so he’s along for the ride until we get closer to finding where the trail leads.”
“I just hope he can keep his head in the game, if you know what I mean?”
“I do, but for now I’m not getting in the way.”
“And what about you and Arieel? Do I have anything to worry about?”
“Not a thing. As you said, we’ve been down that road before, and it leads nowhere. Now don’t take this wrong, but please keep your head in the game. There’s too much at risk not to.”
“Yes, sir, Captain Cain,” Sherri said without malice. “There’s the other blip. Come to port four degrees. That should line us up on target.”
Adam checked the charts. “If they maintain a straight line, that leads to a small stellar cluster designed GC-1735. At present speed it’s about seventeen hours out. Looks like a great place to hide a Klin colony.”
“Yeah, and there’s not much else between here and there. Even so, make sure that Andy stays back. I don’t want his big-ass starship mucking up my readings again.”
Adam laughed. “I’ll be sure to convey your wishes verbatim, Ms. Valentine. He’ll get a kick out of that.”
200
The small Klin transport ship with Panur aboard was nearing its final destination, even though the aliens had not told him where that was. He laughed, knowing all it would take was a glance at the alignment of the local stars for him to determine the location. He had memorized the bulk of the stars in this section of the galaxy and was capable of discerning patterns from any direction. He would know the truth immediately, while inferior creatures would need elaborate computer programs and detailed starcharts to do the same.
Even then, he wasn’t concerned. At some point—if he desired—he would simple commandeer a vessel and return to Vosmin and the Sol-Kor. He had to admit that even this brief time away was providing him with some very strange emotions. Was it separation anxiety? It could be, after all for the past five thousand years all he had known was the Colony. Even though he always felt above it—beyond it—the Colony was still home, and a place of comfort when he allowed the truth to emerge.
An analysis of these feelings actually upset him. He had no idea he would experience them, and now he began to question his entire plan. And then he shrugged. He was Panur, and that meant he could do whatever he pleased. If he wished to remain with the Colony, he could. If he wished to isolate this universe from the Sol-Kor and then use it as his exclusive playground, that he could do that as well. Each choice had its pros and cons, yet knowing himself as well as he did, he knew boredom was his greatest enemy. Yes, the creatures he’d experienced in this universe have been the most interesting he’d encountered to date, yet could they hold his attention for…well, forever?
He knew the answer.
On the other hand, for all their shortcomings, the Sol-Kor were constantly in a state of flux, always seeking fresh fields to harvest wherever they could be found. This gave Panur a constantly changing palette from which to color his world.
If he chose to stay within this universe, then all his entertainment would be of his own making. He would know what he was going to do next, and only the actions of others would come as a surprise. With the Sol-Kor, surprise was a given. They were always doing something unexpected, and without his input. They also came in contact with a variety of creatures—even if they ended up eating most of them. But for at least brief period before the harvest, Panur was able to experience these strains, before it was time to move on to the next.
If ever a supreme being was perplexed, it was Panur and the time was now. He decided to give it a little more time, to see if the Klin or the Humans, or possibly even the Juireans could surprise him. If not, then there was always the Sol-Kor….
201
GC-1745 blazed in the forward viewport, with six main stars in extreme close proximity, all pulling gases from each other in a brilliant firework show featuring all the colors of the spectr
um. Beyond these six stars, the cluster counted another thirty-two as members, yet even then, the effect of the irradiated gas cloud was enough to make the cluster appear larger than it was.
Adam was still in awe of the true colors of the galaxy. No artist or computer enhancement could match the brilliance of real-life space. And then there was the size. Perspective was deceiving, as a gas cloud viewed from light-years away appeared as it would back on Earth, just something filling a small part of the sky. Yet the closer one came to the actual cloud, its grand size caused logic and common sense to shut down. Here was something so large that it could contain a thousand Solar Systems or more, which made the relative size of the Earth something lost to Human comprehension.
Yet at gravity-drive velocities, distance was something that did make sense. The Falcon shot through the diaphanous wisps of glowing matter and emerged in open space, yet still surrounded by the fiery globes that made up the bulk of the cluster.
Sherri had warned him that the blips were now coming tighter, meaning the ship they were following was slowing. If hadn’t been for the shorter interval between contacts, they could have easily lost the trail within the gas cloud. And given another day of interaction with the micro-gravity of the cloud itself, the signal would have been gone for good.
Now the Falcon slowed as well. Adam had experience with Klin Colony ships before, so he knew they were detectable at considerable distance. These were massive starships, which often reminded him of the Death Star from Star Wars. At one time, the Klin had twenty such stations, yet after the Battle of the Dysion Void, it was estimated only three or four had survived the treacherous passage through the wall of the Void—a real-life event unlike what was portrayed in the video game of the same name!