by T. R. Harris
Noslead Vosmin, himself a victim of Riyad’s suppressing fire, now stood and looked in his direction. “This is only a temporary setback,” he said, both to Riyad as well as the bridge crew. “In the meantime, let us rejoin the Colony for a well-deserved communion.”
Riyad stood, leaving the weapon on the deck. He flashed a bright smile at Vosmin. “Take him to my chambers,” the Noslead ordered. “Steering, assume course for Kor.”
********
Vosmin remained silent for the first five minutes he and Riyad were alone in the room. Riyad sat in a chair to one side of the living quarters as the alien busied himself with a change of uniform and a check of a computer screen. He had no fear of Riyad, which in a way was slightly insulting to the Human. Everyone feared Humans, as well they should. But seeing that Riyad was now the only Human in an entire universe, he wasn’t about to do something foolish that would make his species-of-one extinct during its first hour here.
“The main portal is nine hours from Kor,” Vosmin suddenly volunteered. “During that time I will brief you as to the decorum for meeting the Queen.”
“You mean like bowing and curtsying?”
“I do not know what that means.”
“I mean how does a meal act before it’s consumed?”
“You will not be consumed…at least not yet.”
Riyad tried not to show his relief. But if he wasn’t to be eaten, then what? “That’s good to know. May I inquire as to what will happen to me?”
Vosmin looked at him with burning eyes. “In all our journeys, the Sol-Kor have never run into as much initial resistance as it has in your universe. I have led one other expedition before, and the results were satisfactory. This one has not. The Queen has taken notice and that is not a desired outcome for me.”
“Sorry about that. Maybe you should’ve left us alone.”
“That was not an option. Once a portal is established in another universe, we must enter. The potential gain for the Colony is too great to be ignored. Now, in my defense I will present you to the Queen. She must see firsthand who it is that the Sol-Kor have engaged. Maybe then understanding—and tolerance—will be in order.”
“You’re afraid of getting a spanking from Big Momma, aren’t you?”
Vosmin stared at him for a good twenty seconds as the translation was sorted out. And then he said: “I am willing to sacrifice my life for the good of the Colony, yet I do not feel responsible for the events taking place in your universe. In a way, I do not even place full blame on the Humans. Where I feel the brunt of the blame belongs is a subject I am reluctant to raise with my Queen.”
“You’re talking about that pasty-skinned Panur creature, right?”
A slight nod came from Vosmin. “He is an extreme confidant of the Queen and has been for a very long time. Even I acknowledge that the mutant is mostly responsible for the phenomenal growth of the Colony during the time of his affiliation. And it was during my expedition that he has been corrupted. As it stands, we can continue without any new advances from Panur, as certain castes have been trained in the re-creation of his technologies. Yet even in the past we were not aware of the need for many of his inventions until they were made and became part of the Colony. Now we could not exist without them. I fear—as would my Queen—that the Colony will suffer in the long-term if Panur remains in your universe, either willingly or not.”
“So are you locked out from returning?” Riyad had been waiting for the chance to ask this seemingly innocent question. Vosmin had given him the opening he needed.
“Only temporarily. There will be other portals completed soon. But there is also Panur. He is the creator of the trans-dimensional portal—the true portal and not the crude version your Klin built. At any time he could build a multi-directional portal, either on a grand scale or a personal transit.”
Riyad’s jaw fell open and he shook his head. “Wait, are you saying he could build a portal for individuals to use, and not some big thing in space?”
Vosmin gave him a wry smile. “Do not think that a way to escape from here, Riyad Tarazi. You will not be given the opportunity to approach one. Even then, only until if or when Panur constructs such a unit on his side, they do not exist in your universe.”
Riyad’s excitement was hard to contain. He had all but given up hope of ever returning to his universe again. Now all he had to do was wait until Adam Cain got a hold of Panur. Then they’d see how long it would be before the universe of the Sol-Kor was itself invaded by bloodthirsty hordes of savage Humans.
Just keep it up, you gray-skinned bastards, Riyad thought. And then we’ll see who’s having whom for dinner tonight!
Chapter 32
A squad of Klin transferred over to Adam’s ship and piloted it to the still-secret location of the last remaining colony ships. The fact that it took less than five hours of transit time gave him some idea of where it was, along the edge of a sphere in space three hundred light-years in diameter.
Once the small ship was absorbed into the massive moon-like space station, the Klin erased all tracking and navigation records for the computers, giving Adam at least the fleeting hope that they might let him leave eventually. He knew it was a long shot, but Adam never truly believed in one-way trips. He was always looking for a way out.
But first he had to give the mission his best effort, and escaping wasn’t his first priority.
Klin lifespans were very long, often reaching two hundred years or more. So most of the aliens he passed knew the complete history of Klin association with Humans. The savages from Earth had been singled out as the race to be pitted against the evil Juireans. The intent was not for the Humans to win, but rather for both powers to be reduced to such a diminished level that the Klin—along with their true allies the Kracori—could step in and clean up what was left once the war had taken its toll.
Unfortunately the Humans had proven far more proficient at war than the Klin could have ever imagined. They not only defeated the Juireans, but the Kracori as well. As a final humiliation to the Klin, the Humans—and primarily Adam Cain—had allowed the Juireans the honor of nearly wiping out the Klin race for good, as they had attempted to do four thousand years before.
Now Adam was right smack dab in the middle of about a hundred thousand Klin who wished him nothing but the most horrific death. And as he was escorted to the Pleabaen’s chambers, enduring the dagger-looks from all the Klin he passed, he had the distinct impression that maybe he’d made a mistake by coming here in the first place.
********
There were three Klin in the room when Adam entered: the leader of the Klin, Pleabaen Kreasu Simblor, plus two others he recognized from the array planet meeting. Their names had been announced but Adam couldn’t remember them.
None of the Klin appeared to have the same burning hatred on their faces for him as did the Klin in the halls. What Adam saw instead was worry.
“I believe you have met Senior Fellow Dinis Zimfelous and Lead Scientist Molison Jons. I have brought them here to listen to your presentation and to help render judgement. It is how the Klin make decisions, by committee, to assure that all arguments have been heard, pro and con. I have to say I both welcome your presence as well as resent it. You must realize I cannot let you leave here alive, no matter the results of the negotiations? I have the feeling you understand this as well. But until that faithful moment, we will engage in discussions. You may begin.”
“Thank you. First of all, I have been authorized to offer to the Klin a normalization of relations with the Union and the Expansion, meaning that if you agree to join us fully in the fight against the Sol-Kor, the Klin will be able come out of hiding and join the other races in the galaxy without fear of reprisals.”
“The reprisals we would be free of would be for perceived crimes the Klin have committed, is that correct?” asked the alien with the unlikely name of Zimfelous. “Is that why we would be granted immunity from punishment from our enemies?”
“That�
��s right, although I sense that wasn’t a real question.”
“Of course it wasn’t! That would assume the Klin are guilty of crimes that would require pardons. To the Klin, we have committed no crimes. All we have ever done is defend ourselves against the aggression of others. We have nothing to be forgiven for.”
The image of the charred remains of his wife and daughter, forever etched in his memory, said otherwise, but Adam held his tongue. He turned to Kreasu.
“Don’t you want to be remembered as the Pleabaen who freed his people from the shadows, who made it possible for them to reenter the galaxy as friends, not enemies, and who gave them a home made of solid rock instead of these cold metal walls? There are many worlds throughout the galaxy that the Klin can claim as their new home, and no one will stop you. The Klin can then look up at an open sky at night and know they’re no longer hunted—whether for cause or not. The reality is you are hunted and you’re perceived of being guilty for crimes against the galaxy. Here’s your chance to prove to everyone that you’re not the evil demons others have made you out to be. Help us save the galaxy from a plague that threatens all of us—including the Klin—and you’ll be able to do all that, and more.”
“Pretty speech, Mr. Cain,” the Pleabaen said. “And in the present environment I am sure everything you say is true. Yet what happens after the threat is gone? The animosities between the Klin and the Juireans run too deep. And now the Humans—although relatively new to the galactic scene—have joined in the persecution of the Klin. How can you guarantee that in ten, twenty, or even a hundred years the hatred will not boil up again? We are a slow reproducing race and few in number compared to our enemies. Even a century from now it would be no contest, not if we are out in the open and easy targets.”
“Then make yourselves essential. Join the Expansion, join the Union. Let the genius of the Klin scientific community show the galaxy what they’ve been missing. Hell, you guys built a damn trans-dimensional portal. Who else in this universe could’ve done that? Just look how the Formilians have infused themselves in nearly every aspect of the galaxy through their technology and mastery of electricity. There’s no one here who would dare attack them, not because they have a powerful military, but because so many economies are dependent on their products and innovations. It could be the same for the Klin.”
The moment of silence that followed spoke volumes. Adam was getting through to them, slowly but surely. He looked to the scientist, Molison Jons.
“You’re a scientist, is that right? You study, create and build, and yet all your genius is being wasted as it is now. Just like every advanced being, you want to contribute, to make a difference. How many things do you have kicking around in your head right now that could make a real impact on the galaxy?”
“It is not my choice, Adam Cain. I cannot advocate for something purely from a singular point of view. All the Klin must be taken into consideration.”
Adam gritted his teeth. “Look, Humanity didn’t ask to be part of your campaign against the Juireans. We had no choice and billions of us died as a result. And when you manipulated the Juireans into attacking Earth, my wife—my mate—and my daughter were both killed, burned to death only minutes before I arrived to save them. I saw their smoldering bodies, I smelled their burnt flesh. So more than most I harbor the deepest hatred for the Klin, yet I’m willing to let that go for the good of all. Don’t you think it’s about time the damn Klin grow up and stop acting like spoiled brats?”
He saw the three Klin recoil as the translation reached them. Adam continued: “Sure, the Juireans attacked your world and stole your place in history. But that was four thousand years ago. All that your burning hatred and obsession with revenge has done is kept you prisoners to your hatred. It’s been the Klin who have suffered the most through the millennia. And if you ask me, most of it has been self-inflicted. I know the Juireans. They may be humorless egomaniacs, but they are pragmatic. I’m sure that at some time in the last four thousand friggin’ years, your two races could have come to some arrangement. But you wouldn’t let it happen. Your pride wouldn’t let it happen. And look where you are now, down to a couple of colony ships, hiding like rats in a sewer.”
He shook his head and continued. “Honestly, we—the Humans and the Juireans and everyone else—will probably survive this threat, even without the help of the Klin. And when we do we will all share a special bond that the Klin will not be a part of. So do what you please—you always have. But as I said before, grow up and start acting like a part of this galaxy instead of the spoiled smart kids who feel like you’re above it all.”
Adam was frustrated. He hadn’t expected the presentation to take such a negative direction, but he was at his wits end. They were probably going to kill him anyway, even if they agreed to help, so what did he have to lose?
Everyone turned when a slow clapping was heard coming from a side room to the Pleabaen’s chambers. Adam took on a sour expression when the pale alien Panur walked into the room, uninvited and unguarded. What he was doing here, Adam had no idea.
“Brilliant, passionate speech, Mr. Cain. Bravo. And best of all, I believed it. You sold me.”
“Panur, this is highly irregular,” the Pleabaen said through clenched jaws. “These are my private chambers. How you got in here I do not know, but I will definitely have to do something about that.”
“Forgive me, Plaebaen, but when the rumors began circulating throughout the station that the infamous Adam Cain was aboard, I had to see for myself.”
“So how are you enjoying your stay with the Klin, Panur? Anything exciting happening?”
“As you Humans would say, hell no! Although I have found Molison Jons to be somewhat entertaining, the rest of the colony is a dull and depressing disappointment. Forgive me my bluntness, my Klin friends.”
“I do not know what you expect,” Senior Fellow Zimfelous said. “The Klin are who they are and we always will be.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Panur smiled and turned to Adam. “Now, as the three of you contemplate the brilliant and inspired words spoken by my good friend Adam Cain, please let me steal him away from you for a while. We have some catching up to do.”
Adam jumped to his feet even as the Pleabaen opened his mouth to protest. “He is our prisoner.”
Panur shook his head. “No, Pleabaen, it’s you—the Klin—who are the prisoners here. Now come with me, Adam. They will know where to find you when it’s time for your execution.”
They walked out through the main door to Kreasu’s chambers, catching the two guards standing duty outside by surprise. “Your Pleabaen wishes to speak with you. Now go.”
The guards disappeared into the chambers.
Mutant and Human began a slow walk down the corridor. “You tell me what you know and then I will tell you what I have learned.”
“Are we still working on meeting the goals of the negotiation?” asked Adam.
“Of course. We had an agreement.”
“Okay then. We destroyed a second array, this one of Sol-Kor—I mean, of your design.” Panur smiled and nodded his approval. Adam continued: “We suspect there are more under construction or completed. Is this true?”
“I’m afraid so. It’s standard practice when entering a new universe. Is there anything else?”
“Vosmin was about to take me, Sherri, and Riyad through the portal to your universe when Riyad allowed us to escape. Vosmin’s ship made it through just as the array was destroyed.”
“And what became of Mr. Tarazi?”
“He’s on your side now, with Vosmin.”
“How unfortunate.”
“I need to get to him, to bring him back. Do you believe they’ll keep him alive long enough until I can figure a way of doing this?”
“They will surely keep him alive. His race is a curiosity and he is too small for a single meal—which is a point I wish to correct.”
“What’s that?”
“An average-sized brain
can feed approximately five Sol-Kor. Also, they do not feed as often as you do. If they feed once a week, that will suffice. Also, they do consume other flesh, it’s just that brain matter is about eighty percent of their diet. I have been speaking with the Klin who believe the Sol-Kor must harvest hundreds of planets per day to survive. That is greatly inflated. It’s more like ten worlds a day.”
“Ten worlds! Complete, living worlds with billions of living creatures. And you think that’s right?”
“I never thought of it like that. My own world was consumed, and at the time I did feel remorse. But I had never felt a part of the race to begin with. You must also understand that most worlds in the universe—any universe—are made up of primitive beings, inhabiting trees and grasslands. That’s why when more advanced strains are found they are so coveted. Your galaxy here, in this universe, is the richest find the Sol-Kor have ever discovered. They will not give up, even in spite of the efforts of the Humans…or the Klin. Now, you mentioned your desire to get Mr. Tarazi back from the Sol-Kor…”
“That’s right. Is there anything you can do to help? Correction, anything you’re willing to do, because I know you could if you wanted.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
“Stop messing around, Panur. Are you trying to negotiate again? The first time was kinda fun. Now this is serious. This involves the life of my best friend.”
“I thought Sherri Valentine was your best friend?”
“That’s different. Now, what do you want in return for helping me?”
Panur looked up at the ceiling as they walked, as if thinking on the question. “I wish to go to Earth.”
“Earth? Why?”
“I have never experienced a race such as yours. I wish to study your kind. I wish to go unannounced and incognito, as you say.”
“So I’m supposed to let someone like you loose on my homeworld? Look at it from my point of view—that would be kinda stupid, wouldn’t it?”