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

by T. R. Harris

  “I didn’t see it that way, Admiral.” He looked at the gathered entourage in the wardroom. “When a group of veteran SEALs say they’re going on a mission, I just assume it’s going to be a success. And if that mission is to destroy an alien trans-dimensional portal and cut off the flow of enemy units into our universe, I felt confident we had the firepower to overcome any scattered resistance—after you guys were done playing bad-ass.”

  “Hooyah!” the SEALs called out.

  “Hooyah!” Garcia replied.

  Adam saw the confused look on Arieel’s face. “It’s a Human thing,” he shrugged.

  “So what’s the next move, Admiral?” Garcia asked.

  Andy Tobias looked at Adam and Sherri. He had spoken with them at length about this very question and had received some very emotional feedback. Yet Admiral Tobias couldn’t let emotions influence his decisions.

  “That’s a rather complicated question, Mr. Garcia; we’re still operating on limited intelligence. First of all, we don’t know if other arrays exist or are under construction. The fact that the mainships and the others bolted out pretty fast makes me suspect they had a backup location to get to.”

  “I can track them,” Sherri pointed out.

  “And with your guidance, I’m sure most of our tracking techs can, as well.”

  “Don’t put me on the back burner, Andy. If there’s another array then we have to find it and use it.”

  “To cross over and look for Riyad? Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

  “Crazy or not, we have to do it.”

  “And get yourselves killed in the process. Let’s just work this out. First you have to find a working array, one that’s not being using used to shuttle planet-killing fleets into our universe. Then you have to make your way through the portal, only to arrive in a completely alien universe you know absolutely nothing about. Then you have to find this Colony of the Sol-Kor, the one with over a trillion members. Sure, a civilization that big should be easy to find, but then you have to infiltrate colony and locate the one and only Human in an entire universe. And of course, you have to do all this before they lop off the top of his head and start feeding on his brain.”

  Andy saw Sherri blanch. “I don’t mean to be insensitive,” he said, “but you have to be hit over the head with reality sometimes.” He looked more directly at Adam. “I can see by your expression that my argument hasn’t swayed you, either.”

  “It’s Riyad, sir. We at least have to give it a try.”

  “Which means exactly what?”

  “It means we need to do a reconnaissance of the other universe. Maybe just a peek inside to see what we’re up against.”

  “And what makes you think he’s still alive?”

  “Just something Vosmin said, about the Queen taking an interest in Humans. Being the only one in their universe, I’m hoping he’ll be kept around for study. And if they want a taste of his brain, they don’t have to kill him for that.” He looked at Sherri and squeezed her hand. “Besides, we know that old pirate. He has a knack for survival. If anything, he’ll convince the Queen that he has more long-term value than just a single meal.”

  “So if the two of you get your way, she’ll have three play things instead of one.”

  “There is another option,” Adam said.

  Sherri jerked her head around into his direction and frowned. “Is this something you just made up on the spot?”

  “No; it’s been on my mind for a while.”

  “Go on,” Tobias prompted.

  “Panur,” Adam said. “I’m almost positive he’s still in this universe and hiding out with the Klin.”

  “How’s that going to help us?” Sherri asked.

  “A couple of ways. First, if there are other arrays in the galaxy, he would know where they are.”

  “And he’d just volunteer the information?” Sherri asked, her voice oozing sarcasm.

  “I’m sure we’d have to do some negotiating, but he seems to get a kick out of that.”

  “And two?” Andy asked impatiently.

  “He can build us a new array—and a two-way portal, unlike the Klin’s one-way gadget. If he builds us one, then we’ll have more control entering and exiting the universe of the Sol-Kor.”

  “Again I ask: Why would he do that? This is wasting our time.” She turned to Andy, shaking her head. “Let’s get tracking the Sol-Kor. They led us to this array, they’ll lead us to another, if one exists.”

  “Sherri, you heard Panur himself say how bored he is with the Sol-Kor. He’s looking for new challenges, and what’s more challenging than helping an entire universe fight off the Colony? That could be the reason he’s with the Klin now. He may have already made his decision to leave the Sol-Kor.” He smiled. “And you know we’re a lot more fun than the humorless Klin.”

  Andy nodded. “If Panur is with the Klin, what makes you think we can find him? Those silver-skinned bastards are masters at staying hidden, even when an entire galaxy is out looking for them.”

  “I got the sense the Klin realized what deep shit they’re in during the joint meeting at the array camp. Vosmin didn’t know when to shut up, and I could tell by the expressions of the Klin they’re worried. They may have been looking for allies to fight against the Juireans and us, but now they realize they’re in as much trouble as we are.”

  “So you’re saying the Klin will let themselves be found, or possibly come out of hiding as some grand gesture of galactic cooperation? Here’s how I see it,” Andy began. “This is the Klin thinking: If we find them, they’re dead. If the Juireans find them, they’re dead. And if the Sol-Kor find them, they’re digested. Any way you slice it, they’re dead if they reveal themselves.”

  “Don’t you think helping us rid the galaxy of a ravenous horde of brain-eating aliens would go a long way to normalizing relations among old enemies?”

  Andy bristled. Brain-eating aliens is my line! But aloud he said, “So the whole ‘strange bedfellows’ line of thinking, eh, Captain?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Contact would have to be established first,” Captain Garcia pointed out, “and so far I don’t see the Klin making any overtures in that regard.”

  “Let’s test them,” Adam said. “Start broadcasting open messages requesting a meeting. We know they monitor our unencrypted comm links, as well as news broadcasts.”

  “They’ll just think it’s a trap,” Chief Timmons said.

  “Then make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

  Sherri frowned. “And what would that be?” She already knew the answer.

  “Me. Let me be the emissary offering to negotiate an agreement and to meet with Panur.”

  “They may just snatch you up and say thank you ma’am,” Timmons said.

  “I’m willing to take the risk.”

  “Of course you are,” Arieel said, speaking for the first time. “You’re always the hero in situations like these. I think it is too dangerous. The Klin cannot be trusted.”

  “I hear you, sister!” Sherri said. “I can tell by the look in his eyes he’s already made up his mind. Don’t let him do it, Andy.”

  All eyes turned to the Admiral. “I hate moments like these,” he said honestly, “but decisions have to be made. The threat is too great not to cover all our bases. Sherri, I want you to lead the tracking team. Follow the retreating Sol-Kor and find out where they’re headed. Adam, we’ll test the Klin. Send your messages and see if they even respond. You may end up wasting your time.”

  “And if Sherri finds another array, I’ll be all over it at that time. But you don’t need both of us to do the tracking.”

  Sherri looked at him with sadness. “You’re breaking up the band?”

  “It’s more of a duo at this point.” He squeezed her hand again. “Let’s see if either of our solo efforts produce any chart-toppers. If we’re successful, just think how big of an event the reunion tour will be.”

  206

  Like befo
re, Sherri set off in a small tracking ship, but this time with a team of experts drawn from the fleet as her backups. Following them was a force of one hundred warships, staying back at a respectable distance so as to not interfere with the sensors.

  In the meantime, Adam took a small ship of his own and set off for a part of space he was somewhat familiar with—the Void. After receiving permission from the Juireans to operate within Expansion space, Adam chose a part of galaxy that had once been the outer limits of the old empire. The Klin were also very familiar with the region, and Adam reasoned they would seek home turf as their hiding place. Besides, a signal sent out from the middle of the Void would promulgate unmolested for dozens light-years, guaranteeing a wider range for the broadcast.

  He felt a strange sensation as he emerged from around the side of the vast gaseous nebula known as the Barrier and returned to the region of space where all his misadventures had begun over twenty years before. At that time he—and his entire race—were rookies when it came to space travel, interaction with other species, and waging war on a galactic scale.

  Funny how things change. Now the Humans were the masters of war, the alien assassins, and the seekers of revenge who had conquered a galaxy. All in twenty years. Not bad for a race of savages with a propensity for baring their teeth in life challenges every chance they got.

  He already had a prerecorded message prepared, which he would loop continuously until a return signal was received. Although he had faith in the plan, it really wasn’t his style to just sit back and wait for something to happen. Now, as he activated the broadcast signal, he was already trying to think of more proactive alternatives.

  “This is Adam Cain broadcasting in the clear. This message will loop, so it will be easy to locate the source. I am alone and unarmed. I ask for a meeting with parties who are aware of the events that have taken place recently within Union space. You were part of a meeting where I was in attendance. I am offering myself as emissary—as well as hostage—in order to secure a meeting to discuss matters of mutual interest and concern. Please respond as soon as possible. I will remain on station for seventy-two hours standard. Now this message will repeat.”

  Although he broadcast the message on a frequency normally reserved for military traffic, he still had to keep the message vague, since anyone with the proper CW equipment could listen in. All he would need is for the media—in both the Expansion and the Union—to get curious enough to start asking questions. Already there was a major uproar about the restriction of space traffic within part of the Union. And rumors of missing crews were already popping up on newscasts. No one wanted a wide-scale panic if the truth about the dimension travelers was found out.

  Adam was pretty well-known in most parts of the Union, as well as the Expansion, although his primary impact on this part of the galaxy took place over a decade ago. He was hoping short memories would let his notoriety fade, all except to the Klin—who it seemed, had the longest memories in the history of memory.

  He fixed himself a steaming cup of hot chocolate and kicked back with his feet resting on the comm console. The seventy-two hour deadline was something new he’d thrown into the message at the last moment. It never hurt to put a little urgency in the negotiations. Besides, that would be just enough time for him to come up with a Plan B…if A falls flat on its face.

  Six hours later, Adam was fast asleep at the console when an incoming link alarm began to sound. Normally it wouldn’t have been set to audible, but he had been anticipating this very circumstance. He bolted awake with his feet slipping off the console and sending his empty hot chocolate cup crashing to the deck.

  He was confused when he looked at the console. This link was coming from a secure line and not an open channel like he was expecting.

  “Yeah, this is Cain. Who is this?”

  “Forgive me, Captain Cain,” said a young-sounding voice. “This is Petty Officer Third Class Jake Rollins aboard the Lincoln.”

  Adam switched to visual and saw the face of the young enlisted radio operator, sitting in a dimly lit room and looking nervous. “That’s okay, Mr. Rollins, what’s going on?”

  “I received a message for you and wasn’t sure if I should forward it to you. I had a link to your ship, so I tried it. I’m sorry if I broke protocol.”

  “Don’t worry; who’s the message from?”

  “Someone named Fracas…or Bul-Mot. It was hard to understand him. I think he’s an alien.”

  Adam shook his head. “I don’t recall the name. Are you sure—no wait! I do know him. You’re right, he’s a Que’l.”

  “A quail? I’ve never heard of them.”

  Adam smiled. “Close enough, Mr. Rollins. They’re new to the Union. So what’s the message?”

  “After some confusion, he just left a link address. He wants to speak with directly.”

  “That’s fine; send me the link.”

  “Yes, sir. And again I’m sorry if I disturbed you, but I have to say it’s an honor—”

  “Thank you, petty officer. I’ll contact Fracas right away.” He cut the line.

  It took Adam a moment to remember that Bul-Mot Fracas Sim was the head of the Que’l military. He’d met him briefly at the reception following the Joining Ceremony on Unisid.

  Awake now—and still bored—Adam established the link.

  The aging, square-headed alien appeared on his screen right away. “That was quick, Captain Cain. I appreciate your return link.”

  “It was no problem. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you recall our brief conversation a few weeks ago?”

  “Yes I do. I told you about the ships with the blue beams and the missing crews.”

  “Precisely. If you also recall, I told you at the time of other incidents just like the ones you described occurring in Que’l space, yet not against any Que’l ships.”

  “You should consider yourselves fortune, Bul-Mot.”

  “Well, it appears I did not have all the information. As I was reviewing action reports, I came upon two events where Que’l ships were approached by unknown vessels which projected the blue beam in their direction. When the crews challenged the ships, they departed without further action.”

  Adam frowned. “You’re saying the Que’l have come in contact with the Sol-Kor ships—sorry, that’s the race that operates the beam ships—and yet they didn’t attack?”

  “As I said, when the crews questioned the intentions of the unknowns, they hastily retreated without comment.”

  Adam suddenly got the message. “So your crews were not affected by the beams?”

  “It would appear not. Can you explain this anomaly?”

  “Not for certain, yet it may have something to do with the makeup of your skulls.”

  “Our skulls? I do not understand?”

  “The suppressor beam—as it’s now called—works on the brain to cause a dulling of the senses and an apathetic state of mind. Those who are affected don’t care what happens to them. It would seem that the thickness of your skull structure blocks the beam from reaching the brain.”

  “So we are immune to the beam’s effects?”

  Adam nodded. “This could be important, Bol-Mot Sim. What would you say to loaning the Union fleet a healthy number of your pilots and gunners? With just a few aboard each of our warships, the fleet could also become immune to the effects of the beam.”

  “The same would be true for commercial vessels.”

  “This could be a game-changer. We’ve yet to find a countermeasure to the beams, at least something based on technological. You may have just provided us with a biological countermeasure.”

  Fracas seemed thoroughly pleased with himself. “So revealing the information has been of value, even if somewhat late?”

  “Definitely. I will contact Admiral Tobias immediately and have him set things in motion. Hopefully your people won’t be needed much longer, yet it’s always good to know we have an answer to the Sol-Kor’s suppressor beam.”


  “Are you about to overcome this threat?”

  Adam shrugged. “We’ve thought that twice before, only to find out the enemy is more tenacious than we suspected.”

  “Do they realize what strength there is in unity?”

  “I think they’re slowly learning that as we speak. That you for the link, Bul-Mot Fracas Sim. Be expecting a link from Admiral Tobias. Cain out.”

  Well, what do you know, Adam thought. Just one more round in the magazine against these bastards. Every little bit helps, his thinking continued. And even if Arieel’s scientists could devise a technological countermeasure to the blue beam, it would be simpler—and cheaper—just to put a couple of trained Que’l aboard each ship rather than retrofit the entire fleet.

  He laughed out loud. After the brief conversation with petty officer Rollins, even he was beginning to the call the aliens quail, rather than Que’l—like heel with a ‘Q.’

  Andy Tobias received the news with enthusiasm, reporting that Arieel’s Formilians were working with a few pieced-together suppressor beams they’d managed to assemble, but with no success in finding an effective deterrent as of yet.

  His spirits were buoyed somewhat, knowing that eventually the threat posed by the Sol-Kor suppressor beam would become a thing of the past. More than that, however, he was hoping for a time when the Sol-Kor themselves would become a thing of the past.

  Just then his open-line link indicator sounded. He tensed. This could be it. He opened the link.

  What he saw on the screen took his breath away.

  “It is you, Adam Cain! We couldn’t believe it when your signal was received.”

  “Kaylor! What the hell are you doing here?”

  The black-haired face of Jym poked itself around the wide shoulders of Kaylor Lynn Todd. “Greetings, Adam. Are you well?”

  “Hi Jym. I was well until the two of you just about gave me a heart attack.”

  Both the aliens frowned. “That sounds serious. Perhaps you should seek medical assistance,” Jym said.

  Adam smiled. Things never change. “It’s a figure of speech; I’m okay.”