by T. R. Harris
“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.”
Chapter 29
Like before, 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 the 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 of 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 changed. 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. Rumors of missing crews were already popping up on newscasts. No one wanted a wide-scale panic if the truth about the dimensional 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 had taken 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 Plan A fell flat on its face.
********
Six hours later, Adam was fast asleep at the console when an incoming link alarm sounded. Normally it wouldn’t have been set to audible, but he had been anticipating this very circumstance. He bolted awake, his feet slipping off the console knocking 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 you 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 fortunate, 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. “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 technology. You may have just provided us with a biological countermeasure.”
Fracas seemed thoroughly pleased with himself. “So reve
aling 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. Thank 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. 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 think of the aliens as 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 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.”
Kaylor grinned, keeping his teeth from showing. “Sorry, we appear to be out of practice in recognizing the oddities of Human-speak.”
“I come back to my original question: what are you doing here?”
“You mean in the Fringe? We are back to our old ways. Life became too predictable back on our planets. I acquired another cargo hauler and here we are. This is very familiar territory to us, and we still maintain good relations with many of the shipping companies.”
“So you picked up my message. That was supposed to be reserved for higher military traffic.”
Kaylor nodded over toward his tiny bear-like partner. “Jym is to blame. He cannot rest without monitoring all comm traffic in an area.”
“It keeps us aware of enforcer movements,” Jym said in his defense.
“So I take it not all your cargos are legal?”
“Legal does not pay as well as illegal,” Kaylor said. “But what is the meaning in your cryptic message? Is there a threat we are unaware of?”
“Would you really want to know if there was? As long as it can be taken care of without you knowing, was it ever a threat to you in the first place?”
“That sounds like Klin thinking to me—” Kaylor’s eyes grew wide. “Is that who the message is intended for? Now it makes sense.”
“You are attempting to contact the Klin?” Jym said, his razor-edge excitability now fully engaged. “I thought they were all gone.”
“I’d love to be able to tell you more, but this is rather serious,” Adam deflected.
“So it is the Klin you seek.” Kaylor shook his head. “For you to be seeking out your mortal enemy does reveal the seriousness of the situation. Is there anything we can do to help?”
Adam saw Jym shoot a glaring look at Kaylor before becoming very nervous.
“Relax, we have things under control. Just if any round black ships approach you unannounced, get away as fast as you can.”
“Why—”
Another alarm sounded on Adam’s console, another open link coming from an unidentified source. “I’m sorry, Kaylor and Jym, but I have to take this call. It’s been nice hearing from you again. Now…I gotta go.”
He cut the link and simultaneously connected the new one. He couldn’t imagine anyone else from his past who might be contacting him.
The screen before him was black, even though the video was activated. “So it is Adam Cain,” said an emotionless voice. “You say you are alone, yet we both know that to be a ruse.”
“I’m sending an attachment with an encrypted link. Contact me through there to guarantee no one else will be listening.” Adam sent the link and then cut the public line. Three seconds later the new link was connected.
The black screen now brightened and a thin creature with an elongated face and shimmering silver skin stared back at him. “I am Kreasu Simblor, the present Pleabaen of the Klin. If past fortunes are to hold true, then now that I have met you, my days should be numbered.”
Adam didn’t think the Klin capable of sarcasm, yet there it was.
“I didn’t send the message so we could talk about the past, but rather about our future.”
“You seek a union of our resources to combat the Sol-Kor. That will not be possible.”
“Why not? Are the Sol-Kor not a threat to you as well?”
“That is immaterial. Our concern is not with what the Sol-Kor may do to us, but rather what your Union and the Expansion will do for sure.”
“Again, that was in the—”
He broke off his sentence when eight vessels were detected coming within range, approaching from eight different directions.
“I will not run. My mission is too important to let personal vendettas get in the way. Let’s just agree that I lost certain things because of the Klin, and the Klin lost certain things because of me. Now let’s move on.”
“Move on! I sit in the seat previously occupied by two of the greatest Klin to ever live…both of whom you assisted in bringing about their untimely deaths.”
“We were at war back then.”
“We have never been at war with the Humans.”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “Call it what you like, Pleabaen Simblor, but it sure looked like war from our side.”
“If the Humans had not strayed, we would have ruled the galaxy as partners.”
Adam shook his head. “We both know that’s not true. Maybe something you call partners, but certainly not equal. You misread Humans…and you paid the price. You’re not the first race to do that—well, maybe you were—but you won’t be the last. Now please, Pleabaen, let’s talk about the matter at hand.”
“The matter at hand is that you have presented yourself to us, and the Klin have accepted your offer. You may either board our ships or come in with your own, but either way you are now in the custody of the Klin.”
“As I had hoped, Pleabaen. It’s time for a resolution…to everything.”
Chapter 30
“Well this isn’t working!” Sherri said to the lieutenant seated next to her.
“It makes sense that after a while the Sol-Kor would realize we can track them and then do something about it.”
The something the gray aliens did was break into fifteen distinct tracks, each heading off at divergent angles. Sherri’s small advanced force of tracking vessels couldn’t possible follow them all. The conflict of deciding which four or five to follow had actually paralyzed the trackers. What if they made the wrong decision? So they made no decision at all.
Yet what frustrated Sherri the most was the realization that if the aliens were going through this much t
rouble not to be followed, there had to be something out there worth hiding. And if that something was another completed trans-dimensional portal, then the Sol-Kor could be at this very moment transporting enough raw material into the universe to build a hundred more portals. At that point, a critical mass would be reached, and there would no purging the universe of this plague. The Sol-Kor would be here, and they’d be here for good.
“Which ones have stayed most true to the original course,” she asked Lt. Amanda Collins. “Assuming they didn’t set off to deceive us, that may be our best choice.”
Collins studied the screen, something that looked like a streaking firework that suddenly exploded at apogee. “None are following the exact path, by you’re right, there are a couple spread out about equal distance from the line to either side. Almost too much of a coincidence, if you ask me.”
Sherri’s heart was pounding high in her chest. If she chose wrong, then precious time would be wasted. Given the relatively short time the Sol-Kor had been in the galaxy, she was confident they didn’t have dozens of additional arrays being worked on—not yet. A couple made more sense. But what if she was wrong?
“We’re losing contact, Sherri,” Collins said, the unspoken implication that a decision had to be made, and now.
“Stay the course, Amanda,” she finally said. “If those two tracks maintain their course over the next day, I’ll feel better. Until then, I think I’ll throw up.”
“Have faith. From what I’ve been told about the Sol-Kor, they’re not used to an enemy that would seek them out and force confrontations. They’ve been the top dog for too long to imagine there might be someone like us hanging around.”
“Thanks, Amanda, that helps. Now I was serious. Can you watch the shop for a while? I have a severe case of the nerves to get out of my system.”
Chapter 31
Once he saw the screen go blank, Riyad noticed a marked change in the mood on the bridge. The Sol-Kor were quiet, more subdued. Some even began to stand, revealing themselves to his sights. But he didn’t fire. What’s the point? he thought.