by T. R. Harris
“His strategy will undoubtedly change,” Panur said. “He knew the Gracilians had the Formation in their vault and sought it out once he had the key. He would also know that the Code exists, having been discovered in the original containment vessel, although possibly lost forever somewhere out in the galaxy. At this point, he has no choice but to discover the logic of the combinations on his own. But upon meeting with failure, his next step will be to secure the Code, no matter how long that takes. Need I say it?” Panur asked. “We cannot let Kanan find the Code—not before we do.”
“We?” Sherri gasped.
“Yes, we.”
“How are we supposed to find a single lost Aris artifact floating around somewhere in the galaxy?”
“Simple. We follow the trail of ownership to find where it is today,” Panur replied with a grin.
“How do we trace the trail of ownership?” Sherri wasn’t buying it. “Where would we even begin?”
“He’s playing with you, Sherri,” Adam said. “He already has this figured out.”
Sherri glared at the now-handsome mutant.
At Panur’s prompting, Lila activated a datapad on the table.
“In their vault, the Gracilians kept a detailed log of their Aris acquisitions,” she began. “According to the records, they obtained the Formation disks nine standard years ago, along with the text fragments. Although they were attempting to decipher the documents at the time of Kracion’s attack, it does not appear they made much progress. They did not know the significance of the disks nor the importance of the missing piece from the collection. They have noted in their files as to the location of the transaction and from whom it was acquired. That would be a good place to start.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Adam said.
“A word of caution,” Lila said. “Kanan must not learn of our activities. If he does, he will know the Code is accessible and focus his efforts. At this time, he does not have access to the Gracilian logs, so he has no starting point. If he did, it would be a race to acquisition.”
Adam looked at Sherri. “Are you up for this?”
“Of course, you idiot!” she exclaimed. “If we don’t keep this Code thingy out of Kanan’s mechanical hands, we could all turn into Aris.” She looked at Lila. “And from what I understand, they were all male, weren’t they?”
“Yes, the surviving Aris were male. It is one of the reasons they so desperately sought a means to extend their lives. Otherwise, the race was doomed to extinction.”
Sherri looked at Adam and smirked. “See, we certainly can’t leave the galaxy exclusively in the hands of men. It’s already pretty screwed up as it is.”
Chapter 4
The small group of friends sat at a table placed on the sand behind Capt. Cain’s Bar & Grill, hunched over datapads and feasting on bar-b-que dinosaur ribs.
Riyad looked at the bright screen of a datapad while sucking his fingers one at a time to clean off the sauce. “I’ve never heard of the place. Werznor. Where is that?”
“It’s out along the Kidis-Union border, pretty far out near the edge of the galaxy,” Sherri said. “I looked it up. Not much there except a bunch of thieves, scoundrels and pirates. You’ll fit right in.”
Riyad bounced his bushy black eyebrows. “And I know how much you like the bad boys.”
“Give it a rest, stud. That was before I grew a brain.”
Riyad laughed before looking again at the datapad. “So, it’s a good old fashion treasure hunt. But one that can save the galaxy. When do we leave?”
“Not so fast, buddy,” Adam said. “All of us can’t go rushing off. Someone might notice. Sherri’s the vice-president of the Zone, and the two of us head up the Enforcer Corps. Kanan could have service modules watching us right now.”
“That can’t happen, can it?” Sherri asked, looking at the handsome figure of the new-Panur seated across the table. “We can detect dark matter with our ATDs. We’d know if any were around.”
“The amount used in these new modules is so small it would be hard to detect unless they were within the room,” Panur answered. “But Adam’s right. We cannot draw attention to our activities.”
“That means I should stay on Navarus,” Lila said to everyone’s surprise.
“No, you can’t do that,” Sherri gasped. “We need … your abilities.”
“I am well-known throughout the galaxy, having ruled it once. Not only that, but my Formilian pheromones draw undue attention during any physical encounters with other species. My movements will surely be noticed. I would jeopardize the operation if I went along.”
“Panur is pretty well-known, too,” Sherri countered. Adam could tell she didn’t want to be the only woman on the mission, not again.
“He is not known in his current form.”
Panur/TeraDon shrugged. “You are correct, my dear; however, this form does limit my abilities. I cannot shapeshift, and the body is fragile. It cannot self-heal as quickly or efficiently as the grey master. And if struck with flash bolts, it will burn.”
“It’s your mind we need,” Adam said, “not your brawn.” He smiled. “That’s what me and Riyad are for.”
Sherri elbowed him in the ribs—hard. “And me, too, dickhead!”
Adam frowned and rubbed his side. She had a point.
“Okay then, it’s settled,” Panur said. “It will be me, Sherri, Adam and Riyad. Lila will remain here and serve as our coordinator. We should also take a conventional starship rather than the few dark matter ships available. With the moratorium on the use of dark matter, our movements will surely be noted, if for no other reason than fear of a potential DM event.”
Adam looked around at his team and grinned, a familiar excitement building within him.
“Then get some rest tonight, my friends. Tomorrow we gear up and head out for this place called … what was it?” he asked Sherri.
“Werznor.”
“Okay, for Werznor. Who the hell comes up with these alien names anyway? Some are really stupid.”
He took a deep sigh and stared out at the dark sky above the black ocean. He’d only been back a day, and already he was heading out again. But this time, it was a simple job of tracking down a missing Aris artifact. He snorted.
How difficult can that be?
The figure lay prone on the warm sand about a hundred meters south of the tavern, hidden in the deep shadows of night. He had a sophisticated listening device pointed at the distant gathering, focused on the conversation taking place at a particular table. Reception was spotty, having to compete with the lapping of the small waves, as well as the other chattering patrons seated at tables at the rear of Cain’s. But he dared not get any closer, not with the mutant Lila Bol among them. However, the last question by Adam Cain clarified an earlier garbled word. That was enough. He had a location and a timetable. Once off the beach and back at his ship, he would transmit the recording. Tomorrow he would begin his journey to the outer reaches of the galaxy and a place called Werznor.
Chapter 5
It took an excruciatingly long three weeks to reach Werznor, and by then, none of the team were talking to each other. The ship they were in was a small freighter that could barely travel more than two hundred light-years a day. It had been years since Adam had been in something this slow. That probably added to his angst, which caused him—and the others—to grate on each other’s nerves. He liked his friends, having spent decades with them, and they were more family than anything else. That was also part of the problem. There was nothing new for them to talk about.
So, it was with infinite relief that they made landfall on Werznor. Normally, a simple planetfall would not have been cause for celebration. But in this case, it was a Fourth of July and Christmas rolled into one.
“We should split up,” Riyad said as he shielded his face from the blowing wind and icy rain.
They had just left their ship and were now standing in ankle-deep mud and a torrential downpour. Either they’d arrived in t
he middle of a storm, or Werznor was one of the ugliest places they’d ever been. The landscape—what they could see of it—was shrouded in perpetual overcast, a steady rain, and puddles of slush were everywhere. They landed at the main spaceport for the city where they hoped to find the seller of the Formation, a creature called Kalicar. All they had from the Gracilian logs was a name, a city, a planet and a date, along with a description of the item(s) bought. It wasn’t much to go on, and the records were nine years old. As Adam looked around at the disgusting squalor, he imagined nine years was a lifetime in a place like this. They’d be lucky to find where the alien was buried, let alone find him still alive and plying his craft.
Sherri’s blonde hair was already a stringy mess, even with the wide-brimmed green cap she wore. The wind swirled around them, carrying the rain into places it had no right to be.
“I don’t know about splitting up,” she said soberly. “As much as I’m hating all of you at the moment, I still prefer to get out of this place in one piece, and there’s strength in numbers.”
“Let’s stick together, initially,” Adam said. Even with Panur on the team, he was still the default leader. It was always like that, and he accepted the responsibility without question. Besides, there was no way he would take orders from any of them.
“My readings are all over the place,” said Riyad.
Adam knew what he meant. His ATD—even the Cadillac version he carried—was a mass of readings. Everyone here had a weapon. But not only that, but the energy signatures were fluctuating wildly. “What’s going on?”
“Unfortunately, I do not have an interface device to know what you’re experiencing,” said Panur in his TeraDon body. He pulled out a datapad and began punching keys. “Werznor has an unusually strong magnetic field, even though the gravity is only half Juirean standard. It’s small, but must be made of mainly iron. The core must be two-thirds of its diameter, still molten and circulating. This could be what’s interfering with your readings.”
Sherri, can you hear me? Adam asked through his ATD.
“I can,” she answered aloud. “But you are standing right next to me.”
Adam nodded. “Let’s get on with this. The sooner we find this Kalicar guy, the sooner we can get off this rock. Everyone, remember where we parked. Let’s go.”
Blindingly bright neon lights lit the way, marquees from the myriad business that surrounded the spaceport. There were no paved roads, just elevated sidewalks that were slick from the rain and themselves covered in mud. The inhabitants wore special-soled shoes to keep from slipping and sliding, something none of Adam’s team had with them. And the extremely light gravity didn’t help, either, making the Humans lighter than normal and unable to gain firm footing after each step. The going was slow and awkward. Panur’s sure-footedness led the way, the tall, square-jawed alien ignoring the cold and rain as only an immortal mutant could.
There were no natives on Werznor, just one massive settlement of immigrants that had grown from a pirate hideout twenty years before to become the largest center for the specialized buying and selling of just about anything one was willing to buy or sell. Adam had been on a dozen worlds like this before, although Werznor would have to rank among the top five for filth and depravity. The team instinctively ducked as a series of flash bolts lit the gloom, before two long-limbed, green aliens splayed out on the mud in the middle of the street. Their killers never appeared, just a horde of young urchins who stripped the bodies clean in a matter of seconds. Adam raised an eyebrow. It was impressive how efficient they were.
“We are heading for a place called the Consortium,” Panur yelled back through the din of the crowded city. “It’s a large open-air marketplace for any assortment of contraband. It should be just ahead.”
The town was a horrific mess close to the spaceport, but the farther they got from the landing field, the more packed and squalid it became. That was unusual. Most depravities were outside the gates of a spaceport. Not on Werznor.
The entrance to the Consortium was more of a boundary than an actual place. The streets widened and became lined with awning-protected kiosks and booths manned by every imaginable species of alien in the galaxy. Although not merchants themselves, Adam did spot a few Gracilians meandering through the crowd, water glistening off their smooth black skin as they scoured the stations for minor treasures. They were the galaxy’s premier collectors of Aris artifacts, so they had a constant presence on Werznor. But the really good stuff wasn’t to be found out here in the open. That was reserved for private showings behind closed doors and protected by vicious guards.
The planet Werznor was nine light-years from where Adam knew the ancient Aris homeworld had once been. It was also the first settlement outside the infamous Zaniff Asteroid Field, where most of the Aris artifacts originated. In the distant past, a large chunk of the shattered homeworld drifted into the Cadonic star system and then broke apart, forming the field. It was rich in finds, and everyone knew it.
At first, the treasure trove was a closely held secret among the Cadonic and the Incus, as they collected and studied the artifacts. Then the Gracilians became involved and started buying up everything they could get their hands on. A gold rush soon erupted in the area, and roughnecks of all kinds flocked to the Field. The Cadonic tried to control the activity, and they did an admirable job until Kracion showed up and started irradiating the Dead Worlds. Although this part of the galaxy wasn’t affected, it still caused ripple effects in the region. Most planet-wide governments stopped policing surrounding star systems and concentrated on only their own, preparing for the inevitable. Either that or they attempted to keep desperate refugees from overrunning their systems.
The Zaniff Field was left unguarded, and even at the height of Kracion’s reign of terror, scavengers raked the area for treasures, using Werznor as their primary marketplace. The population of the planet was transient and uncouth, meaning civilization never came to the world. Instead, everything was temporary and fleeting, even life. Adam thought it would be a miracle if they could find an alien who worked on the planet nine years before. Most of the buildings and kiosks he passed weren’t even here a year ago, that much he was sure.
But he had to try.
He stopped at a kiosk and slipped in under the canopy to get out of the rain. A scrawny, four-eyed alien about four feet high watched him with curiosity. At least Adam thought he did. All four eyes were shifting radically in every direction, making looking at the thing nauseating.
“You seek artifacts?” the thing prattled. “Best selection, best prices.”
Adam moved in closer to the booth as Sherri stepped next to him. Riyad and Panur remained outside in the rain.
“A gift, perhaps?” the alien asked, noting the mating pair standing before him. “Aris jewelry, very rare.” He removed a tray of green stones, most attached to silver chains, or joined together in bracelets. Adam knew they were fake. The Aris were not into jewelry, at least they hadn’t been for at least a hundred thousand years before they disappeared.
“Very interesting,” Adam said as he leaned over to take a closer look. Sherri tugged on his arm.
“Let’s go. It is Kalicar we seek,” she said with a pout. “Pay the being for a trinket and then ask about Kalicar.”
Adam passed a green Juirean credit chip to the merchant. “Do you know Kalicar? I understand he has some of the rarest artifacts. I will pay much more for information as to his location.”
The alien took the chip.
“I know not of Kalicar,” he said. “But if you come to the back, I will show you my rare stock. I do not keep it on display.”
Adam instinctively shook his head. He had no idea what the gesture meant to the alien, but by now, he didn’t care. He thanked the four-eyed creature for his time and stepped back into the rain. The alien did not offer an exchange for the JC, not even a piece of fake Aris jewelry.
The team proceeded along the pathways of the Consortium, occasionally stopping to ask ab
out Kalicar. Either he was no longer here, or no one was willing to talk.
“Follow me,” Panur announced suddenly.
Not questioning the instincts of the mutant, Adam and the others followed like obedient children. Along the way, Panur ducked into a tent whose fabric had once been white canvas. It was now a dull grey.
“This is some kind of restaurant,” Sherri reported.
“Yes, and I’m hungry,” Panur answered as he moved up to a counter with displays of mostly still-bloody meat in trays and under glass.
“I thought you only ate pure energy,” Riyad said.
“I used to—still do. But this body craves organic energy, as well. It is a rare and delightful experience for me. Allow me this pleasure.”
Sherri looked at the offerings. “I don’t think you’re going to get much pleasure out of this stuff. Only a severe case of indigestion or worse. Alien diarrhea, now that’s gotta suck.” She scanned the room for blood samplers. She didn’t see any. “Besides, how would you even know what’s safe to eat?”
“They have test strips,” Panur said, pointing to a dispenser on the counter. “Swipe the food and then the inside of your mouth. It will tell you if it’s safe.”
“I think I’ll pass.”
“Have it your way. I’m going to feed. Relax, all of you. At least it’s dry in here.”
He had a point, and soon, Adam, Riyad and Sherri sat on one side of a rickety table while Panur wolfed down a variety of alien meats, stew and beverages on the other. The Humans had a fully-stocked galley back at their ship. They would wait until they got back to eat.
A restaurant worker approached the table. He was a tall, thick-shouldered being with a thin but constant coat of black hair covering his exposed areas, including his face.
“Is there anything else you would like?” he asked politely.
