The Dead Worlds: Set in The Human Chronicles universe (The Adam Cain Chronicles Book 1)

by T. R. Harris

  Adam looked at Jay, his face red, his eyes wide. “Look what they did to my place!” he barked. “Damn aliens, every last one of the bastards!”

  Sherri snorted. “And this isn’t going to help our reputation. We’re going to lose customers because of this … unless we can barbeque up the dead and serve them up at a discounted price.”

  The funny thing, she wasn’t joking. With a galaxy full of carnivores, just about every species was a meal for another.

  Jay didn’t have an interest in the bar; however, as one of the few Humans on the planet, he spent most of his time between salvage operations at Cain’s. He was a familiar face.

  Adam and his partners had done a decent job of converting the old building into a faithful replica of a Key West-style dive bar, complete with fishnets on the walls and colorful canopies over the tables out on the beach. They even had a huge charcoal grill outside that cooked real meat. That was a rarity out in the galaxy, where everything spit out of computer-controlled food processors rather than being cooked fresh. For Jay, Cain’s was a pretty nice place to hang out, that was until a few minutes ago.

  “Any idea what happened?” Jay asked. He wasn’t inclined to tell Adam about the weapons. That was his little secret, even though he knew the weapons were the reason for the killings. Someone wanted to keep their existence a secret, that someone undoubtedly being the weapon’s owners.

  “I have no idea why they did this,” Adam answered in a growl. “All I know is my no-guns-allowed policy isn’t working! It’s as if aliens can’t read.”

  “Most can’t,” Sherri pointed out. “They just rely on their translators.”

  Another Human entered through a walkway connecting the bar with the outfitting business next door. The dark-haired, bearded man looked around, shaking his head in disgust.

  “Looks like I missed all the fun,” said Riyad Tarazi. He was the third Human running a trio of businesses operating under the umbrella of the Big Three Partnership. He was also Jay’s friend. “Is everyone okay—except, of course, for these unfortunate souls on the floor? We belong to Allah, and to Allah we shall return. Except in their case, I don’t give a crap. Look what they did to the place.” He stepped over the body of an alien with a crushed chest.

  Adam took a quick inventory. “Looks like they only killed three of the regular customers … besides the ones the assassins targeted.”

  “Assassins?” Riyad queried.

  “Yeah, it was a hit job. These three came in looking for those five.”

  “Those six,” Jay corrected. “I managed to drag one of them out the back. And before you ask, he’s dead.”

  Jay then looked around the bar, frowning. “Where’s my crew?”

  Sherri waved a hand toward the front door. “Donal was hit in the arm. The others took him out the front, probably to the med clinic.”

  The bar was deserted now, except for the four Humans and the two alien junior partners in the company, Kaylor and Jym. Other than that, anyone who wasn’t dead had executed strategic retreats as soon as the shooting began.

  Jay shrugged, figuring it was a good time for him to leave, as well. Besides, he had things to do.

  “I’m going to check on my people,” he said as he set off for the door. No one paid any attention, lost instead in their feelings of anger and frustration.

  Outside in the warm, humid air, Jay turned toward the small medical clinic located a few blocks down the road. He’d make a quick check on his people and then hire a transport to take him to the nearby Kanac Spaceport. He had a small personal sprinter parked there that would get him to Hax’on and back. He couldn’t make any moves on the salvage until the alien’s information was verified. If true, this could be a pretty big score, possibly the biggest of Jay’s life. But until confirmed, he would hold his cards close to the vest. After all, knowledge of the prototype weapons could be hazardous to one’s health, as he’d just witnessed.

  And Jay Williford wasn’t anxious to end up like the dead alien in the alley, not if he could help it.

  2

  Adam Cain was on his hands and knees, scrubbing on the burnt amber stain on the wooden floor of his bar. The blood from the killings two days before had soaked into the porous planks and would take more than elbow grease to remove. As sweat poured into his eyes from the effort, Adam was rapidly concluding that only a brisk sanding could reach the discoloration. That or a darker stain to hide the evidence.

  There were only a handful of customers in Cain’s at the time, with most sitting outside at the tables dotting the white sand beach near the bay. Umbrella canopies protected them from the intense late summer heat, and a fresh breeze blew in from the sea, located a hundred yards from the back entrance to the bar. Sherri was right about them losing business. It had only been two days, and already receipts were down fifty percent. Killings like that didn’t happen in Balamar, at least not along what Adam called the Liave Riviera, the stretch of crescent beach south of the peninsula. Instead, such events were reserved for the rough-and-tumble boomtown of Kanac, located fourteen miles farther inland. There the fifty thousand mostly transient inhabitants were used to near-constant shootouts, murders and assaults. For them, it was a way of life—or death—the sad consequence of a town that suddenly sprouts from the jungles in only two years. There wasn’t enough time for traditions to take hold, at least not the traditions one would be proud to have.

  Unlike Kanac, the sixty-year-old coastal community of Balamar had always been more peaceful, more laid back. Its twelve hundred permanent residents preferred it that way. But times were changing, with the violence and lawlessness of Kanac overflowing into Balamar on a more regular basis. Many of the long-term residents were quick to blame the newcomers to their community; the newcomers being the three Humans and two aliens who made up the Big Three Partnership and the trio of businesses they operated in central Balamar.

  Adam leaned back on his haunches and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Painters were covering up the burn marks on the walls and ceiling from the plasma bolts while Sherri and Kaylor worked on putting the broken tables back together. With the lull in business, the little bear-like alien Jym was out at Copernicus’s old shipyard, attempting to get some of the derelicts starships working again. And lastly, Riyad was next door at Tarazi’s Outfitters & Expeditions tending to business. With the drop in revenue at Cain’s—as well as the residual effect it was having on Sherri’s hotel—it was imperative Riyad keep the outfitting business running at full speed.

  Just then, a shaft of light shot into the interior of the tavern as the front door opened. At first, Adam couldn’t make out who entered, not through the glare. But as the male alien stepped further in and up to the monitoring turnstile that would read his body chemistry, Adam was able to see him more clearly.

  He appeared to be slightly overweight—although it was impossible to tell with an alien. He was also a little taller than Adam—which was common—and with smooth brown skin tending to the darker side. His eyes looked to have eyeliner defining the orbs, making him look intense and intimidating. Again, that could be normal for his unknown race. But what set the alien apart was the luxurious cut of his clothing. He wore a shiny silver coat joined at a single point over his bulbous belly, with an undervest of shimmering gold. His pants were trim and made of dark blue material, and he wore a pair of pointed shoes with translucent scales on them, possibly made from the hide of one of the local dinosaur species. His head was basic Prime, looking quite Humanoid in shape and features and with a full crop of wavy silver hair atop his head.

  The word dandy came to mind, even though Adam could never recall using the word to describe someone before. In this case, it fit, being both archaic and insulting at the same time.

  The alien paused after entering the main dining area and looked around. As an alien, his expression was subject to misinterpretation, but Adam got the impression he was amused. Then with bravado in his step, the being strode up to Adam and looked down at him with a glint i
n his golden eyes, a thin smile on his face.

  “Are you the owner?” he asked in a deep voice that resonated in the air as if he had sung the words.

  Adam stood up and wiped his hands on the blood-soaked cleaning cloth.

  “I am,” he answered.

  “I am Dal Divisen,” the alien stated, using a tone which indicated he expected Adam to know who he was. When Adam didn’t react, he continued. “I have meant to come and introduce myself, curious as to who bought the Balamar properties from my good friend Hew Sans. Over the years, I, too, have been interested in purchasing these buildings, but now I see I am too late. My loss. May we sit?”

  “Of course.”

  Adam watched the computer screen on the table light up, indicating that Divisen was of a race called Lamanix, while also detailing a menu of food and drink that was compatible with the alien’s body chemistry. The alien took note of the screen.

  “Quite impressive!” he said, pulling the rotating monitor around so he could read it in full. “I have heard of this technology. You undoubtedly read my chems as I entered. I have meant to try these in my establishments, but lack of time is often my enemy. For now, I am content to remain using the standard blood testing boxes.”

  “If you’re interested, we have about eighty of them in storage around here somewhere. We could let you have them for a very fair price.” He didn’t mention he would need the money to replace the broken monitors from the other night. That bill was going to be around three thousand Juirean credits just by itself.

  “I appreciate the offer, and I will keep it in mind.” The alien’s forehead then furrowed. “You are a Human, are you not?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I was not aware Humans owned any businesses on L-3; there are certainly none in Kanac.”

  “Have you had much experience with Humans?”

  Divisen bobbed his head. “Not to any degree; however, I have heard of your race, as has everyone in the galaxy. Correct me if I am wrong, but you are a fairly primitive species who rose to prominence over twenty years ago after successfully defeating the Juireans, Klin and Kracori in battle before temporarily assuming control of the Expansion. And now you manage a slowly growing empire in the Far Arm.”

  “I might take exception to the word primitive,” Adam stated.

  “All is relative, of course. But alas, most of the stories I have heard of your species revolve around the chronicles of a single mythical creature, who, according to the stories, has been the catalyst for multiple thrilling adventures involving the fate of the galaxy and beyond.” The alien laughed.

  Adam frowned. “Mythical creature?” he asked. “Why mythical?”

  “How could it be otherwise? No single entity could be responsible for all the deeds attributed to him, this greatest of all Human heroes. In my opinion, these are just tales, fantasies created to inflate the Human mystique to instill awe and mystery in your kind.”

  Adam knew what was coming, but he played along anyway.

  “And who is this mythical creature you’re referring to?” he asked, a thin smile now stretching across his face.

  Divisen appeared confused. “Surely you must know; Adam Cain, of course. Even you are perpetuating the legend, having named your establishment after him.”

  Adam nodded, amused, while at the same time, a little insulted. He remained quiet, setting the bait.

  “And what name do you go by, my Human friend?” the alien finally asked.

  Adam leaned back in his chair and grinned even wider. “My name is Cain. Adam Cain.”

  Divisen frowned again while shaking his head. “Surely a coincidence … or an alias?”

  “None of the above. I am Adam Cain, but I have to admit, most of the stories you’ve heard of me are exaggerations, at least to some degree.”

  The alien’s tanned face was suddenly animated. “Surely you jest! You are the famous Adam Cain?”

  Adam nodded.

  Divisen looked across the room to the frazzled-looking blonde banging away on a wooden table.

  “So that would make the Human female Sherri Valentine? Am I correct? And somewhere nearby will be Riyad Tarazi. It is well-known the three of you travel together quite often.”

  Adam nodded again. “And you even pronounced the names right. I’m impressed.”

  “I do attempt to keep up with current affairs.” But then the frown returned. “And now the three most-famous Humans in the galaxy are on L-3 and operating a variety of businesses in the little Balamar enclave. How can this be true?”

  Adam shrugged. “We’re retired now and just looking for a little peace and quiet. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  “Peace?” Divisen said, bobbing his head. “I heard of the attack that took place here the other night. It is rumored to have been carried out by professional assassins. That would hardly qualify as peace and quiet.”

  “These things happen. It had nothing to do with us.”

  “I find that hard to believe. Probably a residual effect from your storied past.”

  Adam bristled at the statement. “It’s true, whether you believe it or not. It had nothing to do with us. Now, what can I do for you, Dal Vis-en?”

  The alien looked around the room. Sherri had taken notice of Adam’s tense body language and sensed something was amiss. She was watching the pair like a hawk.

  “The name is Divisen,” Dal corrected, returning his attention to Adam. Both the smile and the frown were gone, replaced now by a steady, non-blinking glare of his outlined eyes. “Have you not heard of me?”

  “No, I haven’t. Sorry.”

  “That, too, I cannot believe.”

  Adam’s smile vanished, and he leaned forward in his chair. “A word of advice, my friend. Stop calling me a liar.”

  The dandy-dressed creature held up his hands in mock defense. “Calm yourself, Adam Cain. Recall, I know of your volatile attitude and propensity for violence. I, on the other hand, am a true creature of enterprise. I prefer my encounters to be mutually beneficial and non-violent. And since you are ignorant of who I am, I will allow you a certain latitude, at least for the time being. Just let it be known that the two of us are presently at odds with each other, competitors in many ways. Just like you, I operate several drinking and eating establishments. In addition, I am active in the salvage business, and I own several temporary residences, such as the one you have next door. However—and most importantly—I also control the power module franchise on Liave-3, meaning that all ships coming to and leaving the planet that require refueling must deal with me. Because of that—as well as several other ventures I am involved in—I am able to help my friends.” The alien’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in a little closer to Adam. “At the same time, I have the ability to punish my enemies if the need arises.”

  By the end of his brief soliloquy, any trace of cordiality was gone.

  “Is that a threat?” Adam asked, sitting up straighter in his chair. The cocky alien was pushing all the wrong buttons. How much longer Adam would put up with his veiled threats was anyone’s guess.

  Divisen leaned back in his chair. “A threat … against the most-dangerous Human in the galaxy? I may be blunt and somewhat arrogant, but I am not stupid. Now that I have met you, just let me say I am here to offer you a lesson on how things are done on Liave-3. As it is in most communities, there are certain protocols and traditions one must follow in order to remain in business and safe from harm. And as you will learn, on L-3, I set those protocols. You are newcomers; I would think you would welcome this timely instruction.”

  Adam had had enough. He leaned in closer. “Listen Dal, I don’t give a damn about your protocols or your lessons. My friends and I came here looking for a simpler life and not to get involved in local politics or play games with any small-time gangsters. I’ve seen enough of your kind to last a lifetime. We only want to run our businesses and be left alone. We’re not looking for any trouble.”

  Divisen smiled and looked down at t
he red stain on the floor. “And yet trouble seems to find you, Adam Cain. If half the stories about you are true, then you are a magnet for chaos. I, on the other hand, seek only harmony … and compliance. If you tend to your businesses—and stay out of mine—there will be no trouble between us.”

  “I’m not the one who barged into your place of business and started calling you a liar and making threats.”

  Divisen stood up, announcing the sudden end to his so-called lesson. “Then consider this visit a courtesy. As I said; I seek only harmony and compliance. You do that, and we will get along.”

  “Harmony I can deal with,” Adam said. “Compliance might be a problem.”

  Divisen bowed slightly. “Then I shall depart and observe the evolution of our respective attitudes. In all sincerity, I wish you luck, Adam Cain, with the attitude you have exhibited over the years. It is well-known. However, it remains to be seen how well it will serve you on Liave-3.”

  As Dal Divisen stepped out into the bright light of midday, anger clouded his thoughts. He had not intended to become so forceful with the newcomers; that was something the just happened, thanks to the surprise of his learning their identity. And Dal Divisen hated surprises.

  As he opened the door to his waiting transport, he caught sight of a familiar figure farther along the thoroughfare. He was there for only a moment, and now he was gone. Dal told his driver to wait and then headed down the street.

  At an alleyway between buildings, Dal found him there, hiding in the shadows, trying to conceal his embarrassment at being sighted.

  “Lion/El, my friend, I thought that was you,” Dal said to the plump, four-armed creature wearing a bright purple coat. “You are just the being I wish to speak with.”

  Lion/El shifted nervously in place, clutching a small stack of datapads in two of his arms. “I was not aware you were in town. What urgent matter brings you all the way to Balamar … and to see me?”