Prelude to War (The Human Chronicles Saga Book 10)

by T. R. Harris

  Molison heard the tiny pale creature down the table from Vosmin let out a snicker. He then saw Vosmin appear to become embarrassed, avoiding looking down the table at the interrupting pale alien. The moment quickly passed, however, and Vosmin in turn addressed the Klin.

  “Very well. As long as you relent to the Sol-Kor, you will become our partners. As far as the Humans are concerned, we welcome the opportunity to add the Human strain to our list of commodities, alongside the Juireans and other strains we’ve identified.”

  “Noslead Vosmin,” Senior Fellow Dinis spoke up. “Now that the Klin are officially partners with the Sol-Kor, and will be tasked with helping achieve your goals within this universe, for what purpose do the Humans and Juireans serve the Sol-Kor? You mention them as a commodity. What exactly does that mean?”

  Vosmin looked down the table at the pale alien. The Sol-Kor leader now appeared defiant. “Since our negotiations are complete, and you have asked, I will tell you. The Juireans and Humans—along with as many other strains as can be located and analyzed—will be used as sustenance for the Colony.”

  When the Humans at the table across from Molison suddenly all rose up in protest, several of the Sol-Kor guards pulled their weapons and bathed the rioting aliens in a soft, blue beam. These weapons were very targeted and limited in strength, so the effects on the Klin were barely noticeable, although it was there. The scientist made a note of this. A counter to the hand-held weapons would also have to be found, and since the Klin were to live—at least for a while—Molison felt he would be given the chance to design such a compact countermeasure. It would be needed for the Klin to survive their affiliation with these aliens from another universe.

  ********

  Adam, Sherri and Riyad once again entered into their Academy Award winning performances as just three more helpless Humans overcome by the alien stupor weapon. Out the corner of his eye, Adam noticed Riyad move ever closer to the addled Ophelia Naidu. Next he shifted his gaze in the direction of Panur and saw the alien staring at them with his ever-present amused grin.

  This was a tense moment. Would Vosmin have them all slaughtered right then and there, or would he herd them out the tent and do the deed outside where there’d be less cleanup?

  As if reading his mind, Panur spoke up: “Noslead Vosmin, let us confine the Humans to a storage area. If there is indeed a powerful Human force to rise against us, we may be able to use these prisoners as a deterrent to their attack.”

  “I would not do that, Noslead Vosmin,” Zimfelous advised. “Even in captivity, Humans are very dangerous.”

  Vosmin stared him down. “You mistake prudence for fear, Klin. We do not fear the Humans, or the Juireans, or even you. Panur is right. I have seen the sentimentality of the Humans, and the investment we have made in arriving in this universe and securing this location has been high. We do not wish it harmed through a pointless attack when it can be avoided. The Humans will be kept in their present state and confined. Minlead Dosdor, subdue the other Humans as well. And now, Senior Fellow of the Klin, you wish a more private audience? I will grant it. Follow me to my chambers. Allow only two of your most-trusted advisors to join us.”

  ********

  Molison and Druniness Kim were the two other Klin Zimfelous selected to join him at the private meeting. Vosmin’s chambers were in a suite of offices and living quarters made of metal near where a dozen of the black ships now rested. Even during the brief walk to the building, Molison witnessed three more ships descend and land. Far up in the evening sky, tiny flashes of light could be seen. The portal was open—his portal—and the aliens were using it to bring an armada of their ships into this universe. Doubt was heavy in his mind as he watched the distant sky. Doubt that he had done the right thing in building the array in the first place.

  The huge gray-skinned alien connected breathing tubes to his wide nose, allowing him to shed the heavy metal helmet while in his quarters. The atmosphere of TD-1 was compatible to the Primes of this galaxy, yet it wasn’t for these creatures, having evolved breathing a different mixture. It wasn’t much of a difference, just enough to make survival on Klin-compatible worlds more difficult.

  To his surprise, the odd single-entity alien with the impossibly pale skin was in attendance as well. Molison had gotten the distinct impression that there was no love lost between this creature and the Noslead, and yet he seemed to come and go as he pleased, and spoke when he felt like it. If seemed an odd dynamic. As far as he had seen, the Sol-Kor had no other aliens among their ranks, just this one. This made the scientist even more curious as the meeting got underway.

  “The Sol-Kor are not in the habit of receiving guests, nor do we align with partners,” Vosmin began. “Yet I am informed that refreshments should be offered at this juncture. Do you wish any?”

  To his credit, Dinis Zimfelous declined—graciously—a gesture completely wasted on their oblivious host.

  The alien merely grunted and adjusted the breathing tube in his right nostril. “I would like this to be brief. I have been without relief from this atmosphere for too long already.”

  “What is it you wish us to do, Noslead Vosmin?”

  “As has been revealed, we come here seeking crops for our growing population. The Colony now numbers over a trillion individuals, so the need is great for new and plentiful food sources.”

  To the small Klin delegation the revelation was stunning. One trillion Sol-Kor, with the implication being that they fed on Prime-like beings, and primarily on the brains, according to the video reports they’d seen. Molison did some quick calculations. If the average Prime world contained five billion beings, then it would take two hundred complete worlds to supply each member of their population with one edible brain per day. He hoped his numbers were wrong and that they also consumed other parts of the body, as well as other things, including renewable growth crops. However, the alien did refer to the civilizations of the galaxy as crops and strains, so he didn’t hold much hope for a more varied diet.

  If he was right, then the Sol-Kor were worse than any plague that had ever spread throughout the galaxy. Granted, there were literally billions of inhabited worlds in the galaxy, with tens of thousands classified as Prime worlds, with the vast majority of these primitive and still in the early stages of evolution. If the Sol-Kor had their way, they would harvest entire planets, leaving no chance for life to advance. And as for the advanced cultures, well, it seemed these were the delicacies the Sol-Kor most preferred.

  He looked at Dinis and Druniness Kim. From their expressions, they too had done the math.

  “It would seem that your need is indeed great,” Dinis said. “How is it that you can supply such a population? That would involve an undertaking of…well, galactic proportions.”

  “It does indeed. That is why harvesting crops from multiple universes has become such a necessity. During most of our hunting expeditions, worlds fall beneath us quite easily, being undeveloped or offering only cursory technology to impede our progress. The reapers find no issue with these harvests. They are usually done before the population even knows they have been selected.”

  “How do you accomplish that?” Molison finally said, his curiosity getting the better of him. “It is with your suppressor beam?”

  Vosmin frowned at him. “You know of the pulse beam?”

  Molison had to do some quick thinking. “Forgive me, Noslead Vosmin. As you are aware by now, we have monitoring devices throughout the region, so you must realize we have observed your activities here, and in space. So to answer your question, yes, we know of your beam.”

  Again the alien grunted. “Yes, it is with the assistance of our beam.”

  “That would involve a much larger projector, multiple projectors—”

  “Who are you?” Vosmin asked, interrupting.

  “Forgive me, Noslead,” said Dinis Zimfelous quickly. “This is our Senior Scientist, Molison Jons. He is the Klin who devised and supervised the building of the portal.”


  Both Vosmin and the pale alien focused their large eyes on him.

  “So it was you who built the array,” said the pale alien. “Was it not a collaborative effort on the part of your race?”

  “Prior to this I helped develop the Continuous Wormhole communication system, and as you know, the trans-dimensional portal is just an extension of that technology.”

  “Or so it is in your universe,” said the alien, with a trace of sarcasm in his tone.

  When Vosmin noticed the three Klin now focused on the pale alien, he placed a palm up in the creature’s direction. “This is Panur. He is what you could call the lead scientist for the Colony.” Vosmin seemed almost pained by the statement. “He is also the inventor of the trans-dimensional portals found in our universe.”

  “As well as three successively more-efficient star-drive technologies, along with your so-called wormhole communications, several radical new building techniques, a variety of advanced weaponry, and the suppressor pulse beam, as you call it. I believe I rather like that terminology.”

  Molison’s jaw fell open. Even though he was familiar with nearly all modern technologies, he could never imagine one creature being responsible for so many revolutionary breakthroughs. Perhaps that was why he was allowed such free reign? Without these advances, modern society couldn’t exist, here or in any universe. For the first time in his life, the Klin scientist was humbled by another creature’s intellect.

  “I am very impressed, Panur. Perhaps when you find the time we can share knowledge and tales of our work.”

  “I don’t have time to discuss matters which you would not understand. Your technological level, so far as this universe is concerned, would rank among the top. Yet to me you are still like children playing with blocks.”

  “I do not see the need for insults,” Molison shot back. “I, too, developed the dimensional portal, the same as you.”

  “The difference is I know my device, and I know yours. The portal you’ve created is of such a poor design that it is a miracle it works at all. My devices can link any universe with us. The opposite is not true. Do you not admit that once you built your portal you were at a loss as to what to do with it? You could not travel to other dimensions, even if another portal existed. Your device could not link with mine because of its primitive design, whereas mine can mate with yours with ease, making possible two-way transfers. My device has made yours better simply by being linked to it. I admit that the basis for the invention came from thinking beyond what you call wormholes, yet my portals are not based on that, and never have been. There is a much better way to accomplish inter-dimensional travel, and so far you have not found it. That tells me what level of intellect I’m dealing with. So no, we will not be bonding as scientists and inventors.”

  Molison bristled, yet he wasn’t through. “Then what about master to student? I am sure I could learn much from you.”

  “I’m sure you could,” Panur said. “I, on the other hand, would find the boredom impossible to cope with. Besides, it took me five thousand years to acquire my knowledge. If I spent time passing even a fraction of what I know on to you, then you would be circumventing hundreds, even thousands of years of required study. That would lessen my accomplishments and bolster yours, of which neither do I desire.”

  Molison couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “You have been alive for five thousand years?”

  “Why is it in this universe everyone repeats what I say?”

  “If you are through playing with your toys, Panur, we really must get on with this meeting,” the Sol-Kor leader said. “You asked what you can do for us. We seek information regarding the race called Juireans. Their essence is especially rich in nutrients, and their taste is to our liking. The first vessel we harvested in this universe was of this strain. At that time, we pulled information from the ship’s databanks, such as languages and certain technological factors, yet we did not seek the location of the Juirean home planets. When the mainship returned for this data, that was when it was destroyed by the Humans. We also seek information regarding the location of the Human’s growing fields. Even though they have not been tested yet, that will come within hours, as at least some of the Humans will be sacrificed for this purpose. I imagine we will find them to be in the same category. It seems that the more advanced a strain, the higher its nutritional value.” The creature took a moment to look Molison and his two colleagues up and down. “As the self-proclaimed most-advanced strain in this galaxy, it goes without saying that, if given the opportunity, the Klin would be welcome on our table as well.”

  “Undoubtedly, Noslead Vosmin,” Dinis said, quick to head off this line of conversation. “Yet we number less than two hundred thousand individuals. We survive on huge colony ships, without even a planet to call our own. The Klin wouldn’t even satisfy the needs of your Colony for a day.”

  “Then you have no fleet to assist us?” Vosmin barked out.

  Molison felt his stomach tighten. He had not imagined the aliens needing help in this arena. With their suppressor beam they seemed fully capable of providing for themselves.

  “Is that what you seek from us, military assistance?” the scientist asked.

  “It would not have been unwelcomed. Yet now I must think on this further. You cannot assist us in subduing unruly crops, your numbers are too small to be considered a viable food source, and, according the Panur, you can offer no technological insights that might help us acquire more food.” He turned to Panur. “This is why we do not need nor seek allies. Food cannot help us acquire more food.”

  “We have other items which might be of interest to you,” Dinis quickly said.

  “Such as?”

  “Forgive me, yet not knowing where this meeting may lead, we left these items on our ship. Additionally, they are bulky and not easily transferred within shuttles.”

  “You still have not told me what these items are, or how they can help the Colony.”

  “In light of the ominous tone this meeting has taken, please afford me the luxury of not providing details at this time. I would not want to insult anyone with the presumption of these items being of superior quality as yours. Allow your scientist to travel to our ship, where he can be the judge of what would be of value and what would not.”

  “Are you refusing to tell me—”

  “I accept your invitation, Senior Fellow,” said Panur, interrupting the Noslead.

  “I cannot allow this.”

  “I will be fine, Vosmin. Your concern for me is touching.”

  “My concern is for the Queen…and for the Colony.”

  “Again, I will be fine.” He turned to Senior Fellow Dinis. “How soon can we travel to your ship? I assume your scientist will accompany us?”

  “Of course. He will act as your guide.”

  “Excellent,” said Panur. “Now, Vosmin, while I am gone you might post additional guards around the array this night.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Human Adam Cain and his associates are, at this very moment, planning to destroy it.”

  Chapter 16

  Night had fallen by the time the Humans from the meeting tent—as well as all the others in the camp—were hit with the suppressor beam, rounded up and placed in a large holding area where they were exposed to the falling temperatures of the desert world. With their blue beams fully activated from a dozen of the sword-like weapons surrounding the corral, the guards didn’t feel the need to pay much attention to the herd of passive Humans. Even as the chill increased, the addled creatures would not feel the cold. Nor would they require food, water, or special provisions to relieve themselves. They would stand until they fell, and then remain there until the Sol-Kor decided what to do with them, lying in their own filth and excrement.

  Adam, Sherri, and Riyad had no trouble slipping away from the docile mass of Humans without being seen. There were lights throughout the camp, yet none to speak of only a hundred yards beyond. The desert sky was black and moonl
ess, yet the three escapees managed to conjure up tiny balls of static electricity with their ATD’s to help navigate the unfamiliar landscape as they wound around to the opposite side of the array hill from where the camp lay.

  Far above, they could make out tiny explosions of light. “Looks like they’re sending a ship through every thirty seconds or so,” Sherri said in a whisper. She had no idea if the Sol-Kor had guards posted around the array—they hadn’t to this point. But with the buildup of their fleet, as well as so many visitors in the camp, one could never tell if security had now become a priority.

  “I’m no mathematical wizard,” Adam said, “but I make it out to be about one hundred twenty ships per hour.”

  “To strip a planet clean of its entire population would take a lot of ships,” Sherri said. “They’re not out just to kill a lot of people. They need to gather up all the bodies and transport them back to wherever the hell they’re from.”

  “Exactly,” Adam said. “That’s why we have to shut down this thing. I’m sure they need a certain number of ships before they can start messing with whole planets.”

  “You do realize we don’t have any explosives with us, don’t you, Captain Cain?”

  Adam patted his pockets in feigned surprise. “Oh damn, Riyad, I must have left them in my other pocket.”

  “So what is the plan, Kemosabe?”

  Hearing Riyad say Kemosabe in his thick Lebanese accent almost made Adam laugh out loud. “Well, Tonto, with something this big, this complicated, and this focused, usually all it takes is a swift kick to knock it out of alignment, at least long enough to stop the flow of lunch trucks into our universe.”