by T. R. Harris
The other creature was not so coordinated. He continued to face his opponent, yet in jerky movements, holding the blade out in front of him with great effort. The sword was too heavy for the thin-boned alien, and the net was a drag on his ability to twist at the waist.
Nasoc then swept his sword and brought it down toward the head of the Bac’colean—or whatever they called themselves. To Adam, the movement by the Nuorean was extremely slow, almost deliberately so. It gave his overmatched opponent time to lift his blade to counter the strike. Metal met metal, and the Bac’colean fell to the ground, overcome by the weight of his sword combined with the force of the other. The net came sweeping in next, scraping against the thin skin and tearing open long swatches of bloody flesh.
Nasoc slapped his sword against the Bac’colean’s backside as he scrambled to his feet. He was having fun.
“Nasoc (516)…respect,” the referee cautioned.
The Nuorean fighter nodded. “As you wish.”
The next sweep of his sword was much quicker and better aimed. It sliced through the left arm of his opponent, sending the appendage falling to the ground with spurts of blood shooting from the point of separation. The woefully overmatched creature fell to his knees and dropped his sword. He was moments from toppling over.
Nasoc stepped forward in a smooth series of cross-over steps, and in perfect timing with his feet, lashed out with the sword at the neck of the Bac’colean. The head appeared to rest on the thin extension of his body, before it separated, split and dropped to the ground, followed moments later by the rest of the dead alien’s body.
The horn sounded again.
“The challenge is awarded to Nasoc (516) Kallen-Noc,” the referee announced. “As the victor, Nasoc (516) is awarded nine immunity points. Let the contest be recorded…let all animosity cease.”
The winning Nuorean bowed to the referee and then went to stand over his victim. With ceremony, he swept his sword over the corpse before striding proudly out of the arena.
The other Nuoreans left the compound as well, leaving the arena barriers as an indicator of things to come. A dozen aliens or more rushed into arena and began to fight over the remains of the Bac’colean. Two more creatures died in the fight, their remains soon evoking even more competition for the fresh meat of the fallen.
Adam and Pierre returned to the others. They had observed the brief fight from a distance, but not the details.
“They’re definitely skilled with the sword and net,” Adam said.
“It’s like the old gladiator fights,” Manny declared with disgust.
“This was obviously a low-level Nuorean,” Adam pointed out. “Yet I could tell he had a lot more skill then he needed for this challenge. The senior aliens are going to be even deadlier.”
“That’s just great,” Billy said, as he slumped down on the wooden platform of the shelter. “I’m not Spartacus, not even close.”
Adam had already asked the others about their military experience. They had none. They were the pilot and crew of a small cargo hauler, nothing more. None of them had ever fought an alien before, not until reaching the compound. But they were Human, so somethings just came naturally. However, going up against the unarmed and mainly ill-equipped creatures in the compound was not the same as entering an arena against skilled gladiators. Even Adam didn’t have experience in formal swordplay. But he was creative.
He offered to help the others counter combat techniques such as he’d witnessed in the arena. Pierre, Manny and Billy jumped at the opportunity to be trained by the legendary Adam Cain. For his part, Adam promised to teach them every dirty trick he knew, and going up against the aliens in the manner they expected was not what Adam intended. The only way they were going to survive was by doing the unexpected.
Chapter 10
The rescue team was given an MD-8c fast-attack vessel, designed for a crew of four. It was capable of achieving five-light and had banks of both energy and ballistic weapons.
Riyad was the designated pilot. He’d flown MD’s before, but never in actual combat. Seeing that confronting the Nuorean fleet in a single vessel was not their objective, his lack of combat experience was perfectly fine. The tiny ship shot out the rear of the Lexington and entered a deep gravity-well moments later.
The best estimates placed the enemy fleet four days away on full drive. Their beeline course would light up the space around them, making detection of the approaching ship easy for any passive monitors left in the fleet’s wake. That was fine, as well. The plan was for the ship to be captured, and thereby introduce into the alien force two of the most dangerous creatures alive, along with a couple of Humans and a Formilian, no slouches in their own right. After that, all bets were off—on both sides.
********
Sherri was in the galley, processing a cup of tea when she turned to find J’nae sitting on the couch, looking gigantic in the Human-size piece of furniture. At over seven-feet tall, she was an imposing figure. But it wasn’t her size that sent cold shivers through Sherri—it was her history.
“You are Adam Cain’s mate,” the alien female stated without warning.
“Ex-mate,” Sherri corrected. Lucky for her she hadn’t picked up the hot tea when she spotted J’nae. otherwise it would be all over the floor by now. “It’s complicated,” she concluded.
“I nearly killed him several times. I could have, you know.”
“He would have been only one of millions—perhaps billions—you’ve killed.” Sherri went to leave the galley but J’nae stopped her with more conversation.
“You do not trust me.”
Sherri whipped around with a look of stunned disbelief. “Like, duh, lady. Why in the hell would I trust you, just because Panur says you’re rehabilitated?” Sherri could only manage one air quote around rehabilitated. Her other hand held the cup of tea.
“I am not as I was; situations have changed, hence my new attitude.”
“What new attitude, you mean the one where you’re not going to send your ravenous hordes out to eat everyone they find? You’re evil, and you always will be.”
“That is a matter of perspective.”
“Wrong! Evil is evil no matter how you look at it.”
“You do not understand. When Panur created me, he did it so I could to be the future of the Sol-Kor, the being who would change how they…survive. Given time, the Sol-Kor would have become like most races in the galaxy, procreating conventionally and living in family units. They would no longer be the threat they are today.”
“You mean the threat they were. Your race is getting its ass kicked back in your universe. From what I understand, none of your female offspring survived, so the Sol-Kor are slowly dying off, with a lot of help from the pissed off races your people had for lunch. Your universe—all universes—are better off without the Sol-Kor.”
“I can understand your anger, yet I do not understand your insistence not to move beyond your hatred. I served a purpose at the time. Unfortunately, I was not allowed to complete Panur’s vision for the Sol-Kor, in great part due to the actions of Adam Cain and his Human followers.”
Sherri bristled. “We’re not his followers. He’s not some messianic figure descended from the gods—not like they tried to make you out to be.”
“There are some within your galaxy who would disagree with you regarding Adam Cain.”
“That’s their problem. Adam’s just a Human, just like every other Human.” Then Sherri smiled. “Which should make a lot of aliens nervous, knowing there’s an entire planet of us out there.”
“You haven’t learned, have you?”
Sherri bristled even more. “Learned what…?” She left off the you bitch from the end of the sentence, knowing it’s not wise to poke the super-powerful, immortal, mutant bear in the room—at least not too much.
“I refer to the lesson you should have learned from the Sol-Kor. Planets are susceptible to annihilation. Yet a race spread among many worlds has a better chance of surviv
al. Your Earth can be destroyed, along with all the Adam Cain’s and Sherri Valentine’s upon its surface, and it wouldn’t take a race of super-beings to do so.”
“Kind of like what happened to your world when the Hal’ic attacked?”
“That was not my world; I do not have a world. I was created in the laboratories of Kor, yet that was all. I have no homeworld, and no race. Like my creator—and Lila Bol—we are unique.”
“How does that make you feel?” Sherri asked, genuinely interested in the answer. “I couldn’t imagine being so alone.”
J’nae took a heartbeat to formulate her answer, which was a lifetime for an intellect like hers. Sherri noticed the hesitation, believing she’d touched a nerve.
“I know of no other existence, and that is how it will be for all eternity.”
“You’re smart enough to imagine what it feels like to be part of a family, of a community, of a race of like beings all in pursuit of life’s little pleasures. You can, can’t you?”
“Of course I can…imagine. Panur has the emotions you speak off, since he is the product of a mortal birth and then mutated to his present state. Even Lila has retained that part of her Human and Formilian birth, thanks to her assimilation into her planet’s culture and people. She, even more than Panur, has conventional feelings and emotions. Yet I was created a mutant—as you refer to it. I have no such lingering experiences to call upon. I understand them and can place myself in a state of mind where I react as I should. Yet this is more of an exercise rather than true feelings. Panur has attempted recently to instill these in me, yet the progress is slow. And even if he succeeds, I will know they are artificial, even as my very existence is artificial. Yet perhaps….”
“Perhaps what?” Sherri felt awful, overwhelmed by the incredible sadness she detected in the mutant. J’nae said she was devoid of natural emotions, that she had to imagine how to feel. In Sherri’s opinion, she was doing one hell of good job of imagining.
“When we find the Aris.”
“I don’t understand?”
“Perhaps through them both Panur and I can learn.”
“You’re looking forward to finding them?” Sherri couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “The Aris were able to take Lila—someone like you—and without batting an eye. Doesn’t that frighten you, the idea of what they’re capable of doing?”
Again there was a slight hesitation before her reply. “It’s not fear I feel. It’s…excitement.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“To you it doesn’t, yet you must realize I do not fear…anything. Even though I can be overcome by extreme cold, I cannot die. I will outlast any of the prisons I may be placed within. A million years or more could pass and I would still survive. Yet the Aris are beings over three billions years old. Even I cannot imagine what they have become. Of course they were able to take Lila, as they can take me and Panur. That is what is so exciting; the prospect of encountering creatures even more powerful than us.”
“Look, I’m in this to get Adam back. If we also free Lila, that’s a bonus—at least to me. Yet it sounds like you and Panur have come here to hunt the Aris? Do you have some kind of a death wish?”
Sherri recoiled from the cold, steady reply. “Now you understand. To those who cannot die, death is the ultimate challenge.”
********
Over the next two days, six more death matches were held in the small arena, all won by the Nuoreans. Only one of the Milky Way races even came close. He managed to nick one of the invaders, drawing blood. If he were a Nuorean, he would have won the match. But because this was an immunity challenge, the contest continued until he was sliced and diced into small pieces, much to the delight of the waiting crowd of carcass scavengers. It saved them the trouble.
Adam was getting a better feel for how the Nuoreans fought. They were into ceremony and showmanship, choosing long, flowing swipes with their swords to short stabbing thrusts. Also, they fought better when moving to the side; however, they did have a fancy backflip move, but that left them vulnerable for a second as they landed and regained focus on the enemy. Their vision was always to the front, expecting the enemy to come rushing forward. This gave a swift opponent the chance to move laterally and approach from the side.
They were also literal fighters, which meant they believed every grunt and groan coming from their opposition. An injury was believed to be an injury. They couldn’t imagine anyone faking a disability to gain an advantage. How would that even be possible, was their thinking.
Adam had to temper his thinking, remembering this current crop of Nuorean fighters was the junior varsity team, if that. The varsity players would be wiser and less gullible.
********
Adam was just finishing a meal of roasted Kacin when a commotion spread throughout the compound. He was sitting on the raised platform of the shelter, leaning against the center post supporting the thatched roof. Using the wood planks left a few days earlier, the Humans had built a four-foot high wall around most of the shelter, with the rest of the way to the awning covered in drying palm fronds. No one had challenged them over the past day and half. Part of the reason could have been that almost a third of the aliens were dead, having been killed off by the other two-thirds. Adam and his men hadn’t participated in the aforementioned slaughter for the sake of any grading system. They did their part simply for food.
But even that was changing. More food was being brought in, along with more building supplies and additional water tanks. The remaining species had staked claim to small plots of land and built their own makeshift shelters, after which a precarious status quo developed. Except for the occasional battle for combat superiority, a pragmatic peace existed in the prison.
That afternoon fifty or more Nuoreans moved into the compound through the main gate, massed around a central figure. As they drew closer, Adam recognized Daric as the dignitary, apparently making an impromptu inspection.
The alien made his rounds to various mini-colonies of species, smiling and offering compliments for their ragged and ugly shelters, often not much more than a few pieces of wood leaned together like a tepee. None of the prisoners knew Daric by sight—only Adam. All they had heard was his voice as he pronounced the day’s challenges.
Adam remained seated as the huge entourage approached the Humans’ small settlement. Billy and Manny stood in the shade at the back of the shelter, while Pierre sat on the outer edge of the platform, looking bored. None of the Humans reacted to the swarm of aliens around their encampment.
The golden eyes of the Gamer-Master met Adam’s. He didn’t seem surprised to find the Humans in one of the best camps in the compound, or their relative good health. They had been under surveillance since the moment they arrived.
“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable, Adam Cain. Your stay with us doesn’t appear to be a burden.”
“Yeah, we’re settling in quite well, thanks for noticing.”
“I also see you have survived the first level of my little game, as I expected.”
Adam smiled. “Pretty transparent, buddy, although some around here chose to play.”
“Have you been studying the challenges? I would expect a warrior such as you to be quite interested in our playing techniques. I would if I were in your place.”
Adam laughed. “You guys are pretty archaic, I mean using swords and shit. On Earth we like to go at each other with just fists and nothing else.”
“You call it boxing; yes I know. I have been studying your planet for the past several days. I understand better now why you have been so effective at the game of war. You are more barbaric than most of your contemporaries in this galaxy. You also have the unique ability to move rapidly within your own heavy gravity, making you especially agile on worlds with standard gravity. Most other species from similar worlds as yours are more sluggish and less coordinated. Even in my own galaxy we had our share of creatures like you. We defeated them, as we did all others. You will be no differe
nt.”
“So you say.”
Daric went to turn away but then changed his mind. “I have an idea, one you and your fellow Humans may find amusing.”
“What’s that?” Adam asked. He let loose with a fake yawn to emphasize his complete lack of interest in what the alien leader had to say.
“Seeing that I have a gathering of Humans here—and you already have been assigned tentative challenge points—why don’t I arrange a match for one of your companions?”
The alien had Adam’s attention, along with that of the other three Humans.
“I thought you were saving us for last?” Adam fought to maintain his detached air, not wanting Daric to know how concerned he was.
“I’m saving you, Adam Cain. Your friends are fair game at this time.”
“Don’t waste good fighting stock on the undercard, Daric.”
“I do not fully understand your comment, yet I question part of it. If you are such good players, then your Humans should exit victorious. You should have nothing to fear from a practice challenge.”
“Practice, you mean other than to the death?”
“Oh, no, Adam Cain, it will be to the death, just that it will be practice for your designated challenger. There’s always a first. Let us schedule it for tomorrow.”
“Wait…we get to choose the person?”
“Of course, so long as it is not you. I must admit, I’m saving you for myself.”
Adam stepped toward the alien, only to be blocked by several serious-looking guards. “Then let’s get it over with, you sonofabitch!”
“Patience, my worthy opponent, our time will come. Preparations are still underway. It must be a grand show, an inaugural challenge in our glorious new Grand Arena currently under construction. Now…ready your second for the challenge tomorrow. I will allow an anxious higher-level Nuorean an opportunity to earn accelerated immunity points with the challenge. Let us see if you are an anomaly, Adam Cain, or if all Humans are the caliber of player I suspect you to be. And you can be assured your player will find a worthy opponent in the Nuorean I have in mind. I would not want to make it too easy for him.”