by T. R. Harris
He and Te’moc led the six other Cartel dignitaries up one of the stairways in Building Nine and to the third floor. Director Saz Daen was in the group, along with First-Stansi Jaoni and another Stanzi named Aligart. The Junior Stanzi had captured Adam Cain and was included in the group as a reward for his courageous action. For his part, Te’moc didn’t react to the news that Adam Cain was in their custody. It was as TeraDon had suspected; Te’moc had no idea who the Human was, which he admitted was strange, in deference to Cain’s assertion. TeraDon had been hoping to get a bonus from the client because of this, but that did not look to be a possibility.
That just meant Cain belonged to the Cartel. That was just as good.
Saz Daen appeared upset when the entourage entered the detention area, and no one was present at the receiving counter. They proceeded through the double doors into the cellblock.
TeraDon and the other Cartel members pulled their weapons at the sight of the two dead guards lying in full view on the floor. The doors to four cells stood open.
“Sound the security alert!” Daen yelled to First-Stanzi Jaoni. Communicators were out, and orders shouted.
Te’moc walked up to the third cell on the right side, the one the female Human had been in. TeraDon watched as he slowly entered and took a moment standing in the center of the cell.
When he left, he said to TeraDon, “She was here.”
“But how? There was only the Human. I know. I saw her, and only her.”
“There is a way, yet I do not know how it would be possible.”
Saz Daen came up to them. “They have taken a hovercopter back into the city, undoubtedly heading to the spaceport. I have sent troops. They will arrive long before the escapees. We will get them back.”
Te’moc turned his red eyes to TeraDon. “Once again they have escaped.” He silenced the coming protest with a raise of his hand. “However, I am sensing this may not be entirely your fault, and rather an underestimation on my part. Ready your ships. I must assume you will fail in your attempt to recapture. I must be prepared to do this myself.”
20
By the time they reached the city, Adam was a little more confident with the controls. He kept the craft at a somewhat level altitude which would clear most of the buildings in their path. Others he had time to avoid. However, their path was pretty obvious, and Adam prayed he wouldn’t have to do any fancy maneuvers against hostile forces on the way to the spaceport.
Surprisingly, they encountered no resistance on the way. Then once over the landing field, he lowered the craft and made for the sleek, slate blue starship that stood out from the rusty hulks in this section of the spaceport.
As they drew closer, he saw a gathering of forces and prepared for their arrival. He laughed. They were waiting at the Forty and not the Arya.
Someone is going to catch hell for that, he thought.
Since he’d never landed a hovercopter before, he didn’t feel too bad when he hit the ground hard, and the craft tumbled over on its side, crunching a pair of props rings and sending dangerous shards of metal skidding across the dirt. He pushed open the cockpit door on the left side, allowing Tidus to crawl out first and slide down the canopy to the ground. Adam stood up, helping Summer out and then Monty, handing them down to Tidus. Then Adam hopped down.
He looked a hundred meters to the Forty. A couple of dozen armed Cartel members stood outside the ship, watching them. It took a moment before they realized what was happening, then they made for their vehicles while others set out on foot.
Monty ran for the Arya.
“No! Wait!” Adam yelled out. By the time he accessed his ATD, it was too late.
Monty touched the hull near the side hatch—and received a shock strong enough to throw him back a couple of meters, after which he fell to the ground unconscious.
Adam ran up to him. “Idiot,” he said to the still slightly twitching master chief. “The dozen or so bodies lying around the ship should have tipped you off that the hull is energized.”
Using his ATD, Adam deactivated the system and opened the hatch. Tidus and Summer already had Monty under the armpits and dragged him inside.
Adam ran to the bridge and slipped into the pilot seat, his mind already activating systems, readying the ship for liftoff. With the Arya, there was no need to build up a charge, either in the chemical or gravity drives.
“Strap in,” he yelled to Tidus and Summer as they hauled a heavy Monty Pitt into the room with them.
“What about him?” Summer asked.
“No time! The Cartel is already firing at us.”
A horde of soldiers, now only twenty meters from the ship, were consumed by a sudden eruption of pale blue flame shooting out from under the vessel. It wasn’t accompanied by the traditional cloud of grey-white smoke like other chemical jets; Panur’s system burned the propellant much more efficiently. But it did incinerate the closest Cartel hoodlums, and the Xan-fi flash bolts hitting the hull had no effect whatsoever.
Adam pitched the nose up, giving the chem engines full throttle. He heard a thud behind him and looked back to see Monty’s body pressed against the rear bulkhead. In a few seconds, Adam would transition to gravity drive and be able to engage the inertial compensators. Until then, Monty was at the mercy of gravity.
An alarm sounded on his console. He grimaced, looking over the shiny new command panel, wondering what was happening? He’d been on Formil with Arieel when the rest of the team was briefed on the more advanced operation of the starship. He had the basics down, but he didn’t know he would need more than that when he set off for Sasin.
The flash of a cannon bolt off to his right gave him a clue that the alarm had to do with threat detection. Fortunately, the ship was semi-autonomous and had the shields raised in time to absorb the first bolt, as well as the second and third.
Tidus was at the weapons station, although he couldn’t do much more than read the monitors. “Three ships closing fast.”
“Damn the Cartel,” Adam groaned.
“They are not Cartel, but rather the Cassor Confederation.”
“I didn’t know they operated around here,” Adam said.
“They do not, normally. They are on Sasin for the recruits.”
“Why are they shooting at us?”
“They must have been alerted to our escape and still wish to collect the bounty. Could you give me a quick insight into the fire controls? I might be able to return fire.”
“I wish I could, buddy, but I’m as much in the dark as you are.”
Adam switched from chemical drive to gravity, allowing the internals to take over. Suddenly, it was as if they were standing on level ground with normal—Juirean normal—gravity.
Summer unstrapped and went to where Tidus was sitting.
“For Christ’s sake, let me try,” she said to the tall alien.
“Is that you, Summer?” he asked.
“It is for now, but it worked one time, maybe it will work again.”
“What are you talking about?” Adam asked.
“Never mind; just fly the damn ship,” said a voice that sounded like Summer, yet was a lot more assertive. He’d heard that tone before coming from the five-foot-two-inch blonde. He did as he was told.
Summer slipped into the seat and then sat staring at the screens and controls for a moment. Then she leaned forward, punched some keys, and data began to scroll across one of the smaller screens. The information flashed by and then a moment later, she shut down the data feed and began operating the controls.
The ship jerked as intense beams of white-hot energy shot out from hidden turrets. These weren’t cannon bolts, but streams of constant energy. Adam watched his monitors—now slaved to Summer’s station—and gasped when the beam contacted the closest Confed vessel amidships, a direct hit. The power of Panur’s weapon was more than any diffusion shield could absorb. The ship lost power and tumbled toward the surface only forty kilometers below.
Adam watched as it fell, f
eeling prophetic in his earlier observation how the city of Yanish-kas could use a good crash and subsequent all-consuming fire to clean the place up. That was about to happen.
He shifted his attention back to the battle. It wasn’t much of one. After the beam took out one of the three attackers, the other two lost enthusiasm for the bounty they would never live to receive. Even still, Summer placed a parting gift up the ass end of one of the fleeing ships. It wasn’t enough to completely disable the ship, but it would require them to make an emergency landing as soon as possible.
The Arya was now in space and Adam had her dodging the debris filling the orbit of Sasin.
That’s when the second fleet arrived.
“What’s with these people?” Adam asked. “Don’t they ever learn?”
“These are now Cartel vessels,” Tidus reported. “They will need their own lesson.”
Summer looked back at her still unconscious father. “Tidus, can you check on him while I man the weapons station?”
“Of course, little one—”
Adam noticed the dynamic between the two as Tidus caught himself and Summer frowned.
“What’s up with all of you?” he asked as he guided the Arya away from the incoming Cartel ships. “You guys are acting really weird. Oh, and not to mention Summer just learned how to use the most sophisticated weapon system in the galaxy in about three seconds flat. Nothing odd about that.”
“Concentrate on your piloting, Adam Cain. We’ll explain later.”
Did Summer just call me by my full name? “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Incoming fire,” Summer called out unnecessarily. Adam could see it on his threat board. “Preparing to fire.”
“Back away,” said the ship’s captain, having just witnessed the attack on two of the three Confed vessels. “That weapon is too powerful for our shields.”
“Send missiles instead,” said TeraDon Fief. He and Te’moc were on the bridge of the lead Cartel ship, guiding the squadron of six against the vessel carrying the Humans and the Juirean. He was still fuming over Saz Daen’s monumental mistake of sending the Cartel troops to the wrong ship at the spaceport. The vessel he sent them to was a derelict and in the process of being stripped. They could not use it to escape. Instead, the troops completely ignored the sleek and modern craft that stood out from the others at the facility, and which sat only a short distance away.
Now they were chasing a craft that just took out two attackers with a concentrated beam weapon. The Cartel ships were no match for the Human vessel, at least not in space. However, on the surface of Sasin, it would have been a whole other matter.
The ship jerked from the launching of ten guided missiles at the fleeing spacecraft. Te’moc had authorized lethal force, just as he had for the first space attack. The missiles were small and fast and would be much harder to target and avoid. With any luck, they would get a hit.
Then the threat board flared.
“What just happened,” asked the ship’s captain.
“An energy bloom,” someone answered. “It is promulgating. The missiles will impact it in three seconds. One, now four… all missiles have been destroyed.”
“Follow them,” Te’moc said, taking command. “Their engines are underpowered, so it will not be difficult. Do not lose contact.”
“My Lord! The ship has vanished.”
Te’moc moved to a station and called up the latest data. “Give me complete computer access—hurry!”
He went to work on a keyboard, data streaming across the screen faster than TeraDon could make it out. The creature was reprogramming the computer. But for what purpose?
A dot appeared on the forward screen, followed by another a short distance away… and then another. Then a line joined the three points. The view zoomed out until this part of the galaxy appeared. The line extended farther into the galaxy.
“Plot a course along that line,” Te’moc said to no one in particular.
“What happened?” TeraDon asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
“They have a trans-dimensional drive. I have programmed the sensors to detect the course. It will provide us with the general direction, but over time, the specificity of the track will be lost as they gain more distance on us.”
“How will we track them at that point?”
“As I always have, TeraDon. Only this time the signal will be intermittent as the vessel moves between universes. Rest assured. They can be tracked. And the fact that they are in a TD starship has now provided me with another valuable clue for my quest.”
TeraDon didn’t pursue the subject. Te’moc had always been cryptic about how he knew what he knew. This was just one more thing he would keep a mystery.
21
Once the Arya was safely out of the Sasin star system and hopping smoothly along a trans-dimensional course back to Formil, Adam was not only anxious for answers but demanding them. He sat Summer, Monty and Tidus in the spacious central meeting area aboard the starship and began pacing in front of them.
“What’s going on with the three of you?” he barked. “I’ve seen some weird shit happen that all of you seem reluctant to talk about, especially you!” Adam pointed a finger at Summer.
For her part, the young blonde wasn’t as reserved as before. Instead, she leaned back on the sofa and crossed her legs, a sly smile on her face. Monty and Tidus moved a few inches away to either side as if Summer was radioactive.
“It is good to see you again, Adam Cain,” said a somewhat deeper, more confident voice. “It has been a while.”
Adam staggered back, shaking his head and blinking. “Yeah, about three weeks. And what’s up with this Adam Cain bullshit? What happened to you just calling me Adam?”
“Because that would not be appropriate. For you see, it is not Summer who is speaking with you at this moment, but me…J’nae.”
Adam stopped in his tracks, the angry look on his face replaced by slack-jawed shock. Better than most, he knew the significance of the statement. He also didn’t need any convincing of its veracity.
“Is Summer still in there, or have you taken over completely?”
“She is here and very much in control, although occasionally I exert my will. And as you have witnessed, I come at the most advantageous of times.”
Adam looked to Monty and Tidus. “How long have you known about this?”
“I had my suspicions since the first event?” said Tidus.
“Event?”
“Yes, when the Cartel attacked the Forty. It was through Summer’s—or J’nae’s—uncanny efficiency with the flash cannon that allowed us to survive. After that, the specter of J’nae has surfaced periodically to assist. I can say with confidence that had this not occurred, you would not be speaking with us today.”
“Is he right?” Adam asked Monty.
The former Navy master chief nodded. “But Summer is still Summer, to a point. She’s not happy about this, but from what J’nae says, there’s nothing she can do about it.”
“And you believe her?” Adam looked back at Summer/J’nae. “You have to remember, I know J’nae, and I barely survived the last experience. And now you want me to believe that having J’nae inside Summer is a good thing?”
“I am not your enemy, Adam Cain, not anymore, and certainly not in my current state. As I said before, Summer still controls her destiny. I only surface when called upon, either consciously or subconsciously.”
“Subconsciously?”
“Yes, when her mind calls out for help. And then I can only affect certain outcomes; for instance, the operation of sophisticated systems aboard a starship or a limited enhancement of physical abilities. Those are things of which I am infinitely qualified. However, there was a situation recently that required skills only Summer possessed. Even so, I helped enhance her body’s ability to perform at optimum efficiency, yet it was she who guided her actions. So far, this symbiotic relationship has proven to be quite beneficial.”
Adam wasn
’t buying it. He felt tremendous guilt over what happened to Summer; after all, it was he who fed her the green J’nae-juice in the first place. It did save her life…or did it? Instead, it saved J’nae’s, while shoving Summer into the backseat.
“Can I talk with her, to get her side of things?”
“Of course.”
Adam watched as the confident, almost humorous, expression on Summer’s face changed to one softer and more confused, with eyes expressing sorrow.
“Summer?”
“Yes, Adam. I know this is strange to you but imagine what it’s like from my point of view.”
He nodded. “Are you okay with this?”
“Of course not! I want her out of me, no matter what benefits she says she brings to the table. This is all bullshit.”
Adam watched the pretty face turn flush as tears streamed down her face. The scene was gut-wrenching.
Adam felt a special attachment to Summer; he had since the first moment they met when he believed she was his daughter, if only for a moment. That moment had a profound effect on him. He glanced at Monty, thinking Summer definitely had to take after her mother since daddy didn’t look anything like her. But she did look like Adam.
When it was believed Monty died on Zinnol fighting Kracion, Sherri and Adam unofficially adopted the 22-year-old, using her to create a make-believe family of sorts; the family Adam and Sherri never had together. Summer was a replacement for his true daughter, Cassie, who died twenty years earlier during the first alien attack on Earth. But Summer wasn’t his. Nor was she Sherri’s. But in their disjointed reality, where any link with home and the past was tenuous, it was understandable how the instincts of the pair would surface. And the feelings didn’t go away after it was learned Monty—her real father—was still alive.
Adam was okay with that, especially since Summer never accepted Adam and Sherri’s infatuation with her. She just shrugged it off as a couple of old busybodies trying to get up in her business.
