by T. R. Harris
Adam’s new friend was right about the air conditioning. The slight drop in temperature—as compared to outside—came as a relief. Even the oxygen level climbed to the point he could remove the mask. However, the stench was almost unbearable.
It was a four-hour journey to Qidos. Four hours cramped into a closed space with five thousand aliens, without any restrooms or places to sit. The floor was a heavy metal grate, and Adam could imagine what it was like on the lower levels, where refuse, sweat and piss filtered down to the unfortunate thousand or so aliens too slow to reach the higher floors. The conditions were horrific, and this was just the ride to the planet. He could hardly imagine how it could get any worse.
********
Adam had threaded an arm through the canvass loop and was literally dangling there half asleep when the transport began its landing approach. The hum of the generators changed and the gravity shifted to that of Qidos, which was slightly less than Castor, which in turn was right at Juirean standard—three-quarters that of Earth. His new friend had said taking the higher levels would give them more time to enjoy the cooler temperature aboard the ship. He was right, but the sickening odor overrode that benefit. Once the ship was down, Adam gave a quick nod to his companion, and then shoved his way across the floor, down the stairs and out into the bright sunshine of Qidos.
And he thought Castor was hot….
Adam had spent a lot of time in the Fringe, yet he’d never set foot on Qidos. Very few did. It was a blistering ball of red sand, looking much like Castor, yet without all the charm and natural beauty. It was dry, windswept and barren. The Nuor had selected the planet because it would easy to claim vast stretches of flat land and construct hundreds of combat arenas. There was a salty sea covering about a third of the planet, and one of the first things the Nuor did was set up a series of huge desalination plants to supply their burgeoning colony with drinking water. They brought in processors and vast quantities of food paste to keep themselves fed, and Adam understood immediately why they chose to shuttle the work crews back and forth. There just wasn’t enough food and water on the planet to support them.
What vegetation there was on the planet bordered the sea or was to the north and south, at the poles, providing the planet with an atmosphere right on the edge of Human tolerance. Adam wouldn’t have to wear the mask while on the planet, which was both a blessing and curse. Everyone he passed seemed fascinated with his capens, and without a mirror nearby, he had no idea what they looked like in the heat of Qidos. He measured them with his fingers, glad to find they hadn’t stretched much beyond their original two inches in length. He was expecting the silicone appendages to be down to his shoulders by now.
Even with the heat, Adam was now free of the gagging stench of the transport, yet still pressed into a throng of Castorian workers disembarking from the ship. But that all changed in less than five minutes. All the workers knew where to go, and go they did, leaving Adam—along with a dozen non-Castorians others—standing alone on the dirt of Qidos, looking lost and confused.
Several Nuoreans approached, checking badges and giving directions.
The alien checking his badge did a double take.
“Human,” he said. Adam’s stomach tightened. “I’m told they are master players. I look forward to joining them in the arena once the fields are complete. Are you familiar with the species?”
“I have met a few.”
“Are they as formidable as rumored?”
“From what I have seen, they are the most vicious, savage, deadly creatures in the galaxy. No creature, here or elsewhere, can stand against them.”
At first the Nuorean appeared defiant, but then his features softened. “Then perhaps they will be classified Jundac.”
“What is Jundac?”
“Too dangerous to challenge, a threat to the Nuor.”
“What happens then?”
“They will be exterminated.”
“Yet arenas are being built to fight them?”
“Special events, with pre-determined outcomes,” said the Nuorean with a smile. “Or there will be mass slaughter demonstrations, using a variety of methods, all very entertaining.”
The Nuorean suddenly changed his tone. “Enough talk. You can board the blue transport over there and it will take you to the Human section. Check in at the watch building. You may already be late. Now go.”
********
Adam did as he was told and boarded the six-row, open-air electric transport. There was no driver, and once Adam joined the other four creatures in the cart, it set off along a road formed in the hard ground.
The journey took him through a maze of completed arenas, as well as many more still under construction. The place reminded him of the Wimbledon tennis complex, yet on steroids. There was easily a ten-to-one ratio of small challenge fields with spectator rows numbering only five, compared to the huge multi-field stadiums like the one he’d been in on the first Nuorean prison planet in the Radis Spur. All the smaller fields he passed were filled with Nuoreans, either watching the contests or as challenge participants. The cart moved slowly enough for him to see several conclusions to the battles taking place, many lasting only a few seconds. An occasional Nuorean would fall, but over ninety percent of the losers were aliens from the Milky Way. The invaders had a fleet of around ten thousand ships in the Fringe, full of Nuoreans anxious to earn immunity points, and their leaders were giving them what they wanted.
The cart dropped off the other four occupants at various locations before finally arriving at a segregated area about a mile from the main cluster of arenas. It stopped, and as soon as Adam jumped it, it took off to locations unknown.
About forty feet away was a strange looking building. It was made from a huge excavated pit covered over by slabs of marble leaning against each other at radical angles. The rock ceiling covered the pit, with the gaps filled with glass windows. A door was set in a rock wall down a series of stairs.
Before Adam entered the building he took a look around. There were several of the stadium structures under construction and one that was ready. There were none of the smaller fields, just the grand arenas. Six contemporary buildings sat off to the left, looking like barracks and made of either pre-fab material compressed from local rock and sand or shipped in from off planet. Sherri and the others would be there—if they were here at all.
He entered the watch building.
Light filtered in through the window making the interior bright, but not as bright as outside. Adam found it refreshing. The air inside, however, was only slightly cooler than outside. Normally heat like this would sap his energy, but Adam was feeling great, enthused about the prospect of finding his friends…and anxious to start busting some heads, if it came down to that.
He frowned and checked his emotions. Down boy, he thought. You’re on a planet full of deadly aliens, you don’t even know if the others are here, and you’re completely on your own. Hardly the time to get all gung-ho.
Three Nuoreans sat at desks on the other side of a four-foot-high counter. Adam walked up to the barrier and one of aliens came over to him. Adam handed over his badge.
Without a word, the guard went back to his desk and began making entries in his computer. He returned a few moments later.
“There is no record of an engineer tech arriving today.”
Adam’s face lit up. “Does that mean I can go? I can go back to Castor?” He turned to leave.
“Stop!” commanded the Nuorean. “I did not say that.”
“But if you have no record, then I should not be here.”
“The badge gives this location.”
“But I am not in your computer.”
The alien looked at the badge again, the one created for him by the Nuoreans back on Castor. “No, you will wait while I investigate more. Sit over there.” He pointed to a long bench seat made of native stone—wood was a rare commodity on Qidos.
“For how long?”
“Until I tell you oth
erwise,” the Nuorean growled.
Adam acquiesced and took a seat.
********
Three hours later Adam was still seated on the rock slab. He kept adjusting his position, and every time he did, the Nuorean guard would frown at him. He was wondering how long this could go on when he heard a rumbling coming from outside. A shuttle was landing in a clearing near the building.
A few moments later a group of huge Nuoreans entered, each wearing a distinctive dark grey uniform with a yellow stripe on the breast. They were serious and stern-faced and passed Adam without a second glance.
The local guard then stepped up to him.
“I still have not been able to find your assignment log,” he began, “but because you are a tech, you will not be allowed to leave. Techs are always needed.”
The door to the building opened again, yet Adam so engrossed in his conversation with the Nuorean guard, that he almost missed Sherri as she walked by.
But she didn’t. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open the instant she saw through Adam’s weak disguise. She turned her head away as fast as she could, as a hulking Nuorean in a grey uniform behind her gave a shove. He frowned and turned an eye on Adam, who quickly shifted his attention back to the guard. Riyad and Copernicus entered next, followed by another six grey-suited aliens. His friends were hassling with their escorts and didn’t notice Adam.
Adam’s Nuorean guard took him by the arm and led him to a doorway on the right. As he entered, Adam glanced back and saw the huge officer with Sherri looking back at him, the frown still pasted on the alien’s forehead.
Adam was placed in a chair in front of another Nuorean.
“You are a construction engineer?”
“Yes.”
“What is your race?”
“Belsonian.”
The alien worked on his computer. “You will be assigned to lodge six-nine. Your work duration shall be twenty-three ND-12 days.”
“What are ND-12 days?”
“Days on this planet, as designated ND-12.”
“I thought it was Qidos?”
“Not any longer.”
********
The Cadre escort placed the three Humans in plastic chairs while Azon stood by the closed door, wondering why he felt strange. Something had just happened, and he was disturbed.
The Nuoreans were extreme players, and one of the most important skills to master was that of awareness—awareness of surroundings, environment and even the subtle changes in an opponent. The Human Sherri Valentine had reacted strangely to the alien outside the room. There was something, a form of recognition. The blue-veined creature had reacted in kind. Yet what was most compelling…they both tried to hide their reactions.
Azon stared at the Human female; she was avoiding his eyes. Why? He continued to stare, as she took furtive glances his way. Finally their eyes locked and the Human’s mouth fell open.
Azon ran from the room.
“No!” the female cried out from behind him.
Azon flung open the door at the end of the stone bench. The alien was seated at a desk, but he jumped to his feet when Azon entered. The jaw was set, the blue eyes staring at the Cadre player with a warrior’s intensity.
Four more Cadre entered the room, having followed their leader without knowing what was happening. They had weapons drawn, now locked on the alien with the strangely shaped ears.
Azon reached forward and grasped one of the soft appendages…and then he pulled. The two-inch long finger of skin came loose in his hands, yet left no blood or signs of distress from the alien.
“I am humbled…and impressed,” said Azon. “You made it here, through our entire fleet, and never detected.”
“I have skills.”
“As I have heard.” Azon removed a small kissil knife from his uniform and ran the blade lightly over the alien’s left cheek. A thin line of red blood appeared. “So, this is the real Adam Cain, and not some mutant surrogate. Very good. Now let us see how well your mortal skills serve you while under my care and custody.”
The alien grinned, producing a full array of long white teeth. “Let the games begin—asshole.”
********
Adam was moved into the lobby of the building as Sherri, Riyad and Coop were brought from the other room. Sherri tried to run to him, but was restrained by the Cadre troops.
“I’m so sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s not your fault.”
The foursome was led outside and across the parched landscape to one of the barracks. They entered a building without air conditioning or anything else for that matter except for row upon row of mattresses placed on the floor and bathroom comprised on just holes in the stone floor. Nearly all the mats had an emaciated Human resting on them, watching with vacant eyes. Yet as the new prisoners moved along the open central corridor, faces began to light up with recognition. Some of the prisoners sat up, while others stood. Slowly sporadic clapping began, followed by a growing chorus of cheers. By the time Adam reached the end of the building, it was filled with raucous celebration.
The Nuorean guards at first tried to quell the outburst but then gave up. At the end of the room were a dozen empty mattresses. They nodded to Adam’s group and then turned and left.
Adam turned to face the throng, raised a hand and smiled. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, barely heard through the cheering.
“Are you here to save us?” someone shouted.
“We’re working on it,” Adam called out. “Please, let us have some time to assess the situation.”
“You’re…you’re a prisoner, just like us.” another voice pointed out.
“They captured all of you too?”
The cheering was dying down at an alarming clip as the reality of the situation sank in. Adam Cain and his famous entourage were not there to rescue them; on the contrary, they were in the same boat as the others. Depression swept through the barracks and the prisoners turned away.
Adam hated to be the object of their disappointment, but he did welcome the privacy it offered. He plopped down on one of the thin cushions. Sherri sat next to him. She tore a strip of cloth from her already tattered blouse and ran it across her wet forehead, before wiping the thin blue lines from his face. He pulled off the remaining capen, returning his look to that of the classic Human. Riyad sat on a pad across from him.
“Did you bring any playing cards?” he asked. “It looks like we may be here for a while.”
Copernicus Smith wasn’t so nonchalant. “The mutants—are they with you?”
The sick grin on Adam’s face told the story. “No…they’ve left again. This time we’re on our own.”
“How about fleet command? Have you been in touch with them?”
“Negative on that too.”
Coop let the stare linger. “You came here alone, into the very heart of the Nuorean fleet. So what’s your plan?”
“I thought we’d go on the offensive…and kill every damn Nuorean we see.” He looked around at his friends. “Who’s with me?”
They didn’t see the humor in the comment, having just spent two weeks in the custody of the aliens. Hope had abandoned them long ago, and Adam wasn’t doing anything to help bring it back.
“They’re setting up some team challenge against us and the guys in the grey suits,” Sherri reported. “Now that you’re here, I’m sure it will be a really big deal.”
“Who’s the dude with the big mouth?”
“He’s called Azon,” Sherri began. “He’s in charge of a special unit of Nuoreans who analyze dangerous races—”
“Jundac?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I heard it through the grapevine. Go on.”
“I think they’ve pretty much decided on destroying the Human race, but they want to have some fun doing it. This huge challenge match will be the start.”
Adam looked at his companions. “Are any of you hurt?”
Riyad
shook his head. He had some bruises on his face, but they were healing. “We’re fine.” He looked down the length of the barracks. “Which is more than I can say about these poor souls. It looks like the Nuoreans don’t want any real competition.”
“It’s all fixed anyway,” Sherri said. There was long moment of awkward silence before she spoke again. “What are we going to do?”
This time the light-hearted humor was gone from Adam’s voice, replaced instead by almost a growl. “We’re going to win…that’s what we’re going to do.”
Chapter 24
“Admiral, there’s an urgent message coming in for you from Earth. It will be in the SCIF,” said the voice through the speaker in the officer’s away cabin.
Nathan Smith rose from the bunk and headed for CIC. Communications received through the Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility aboard the flagship had to be important. Recently, Smith had been deluged with a flood of seemingly priority messages coming from the Juireans and the Formilians that were anything but. The aliens hadn’t yet grasped the concept of the words important and secret.
However, this message was coming from Earth.
Once settled in, a security officer opened the link.
Admiral Morton Hollingsworth, commander of Union military forces was on the screen, along with Rolf Kushner, another admiral who ran the Military Technology and Development Division.
“I hope you’re about to pull a rabbit out your hat, sir,” Nathan said. “I have a very bad feeling about our upcoming engagement.”
“The feeling’s mutual, Admiral,” said Hollingsworth. “We have some intelligence that has us worried.”
“What’s that?”
Kushner took over. “We’ve just received reports that the Nuoreans have acquired fifty thousand Formilian circuit controllers. They raided a planet where they were stored and that was all they took.”
“Controllers? What for?”
“I’ve had my people trying to figure that out. The only thing they can come up with is they’re for some kind of electronic device which they can’t get the parts in from Andromeda.”