by T. R. Harris
Zoffis gave a very Human-like nod as Adam and Riyad rushed from the room, having placed the four small packets of circuit boards into pouches on their utility belts. A number of curious natives watched the pair race down the hallway and out the building, before hopping into an electric cart and speeding toward the main exit to the complex. They slowed at the gate.
“Your visit was short,” the guard commented. “Did the Juireans find you?”
“Yes, and we had a very cordial meeting. Thank you. Now we must leave. We have other appointments.”
The gate lifted and Adam moved the cart to the waiting transport. The Humans climbed in the back. Adam passed another gold ingot to the driver.
“Your loyalty is appreciated. Please return us to the spaceport.”
“Immediately! Would you like me to provide provisions, or fuel or lodging outside your vessel?”
“No, just the journey. However, once you leave us, please drive quickly to the farthest spaceport on the other side of Eniss. We may need your services there.”
The driver passed a small card to Riyad. “This is my contact information. I look forward to being of further service.”
Adam knew that wouldn’t be necessary. He just wanted to get the driver as far away from the spaceport as possible. He didn’t want him hurt from what Adam had in mind.
Now let’s hope the boards work, he thought to Pogo.
The Incus are very proficient at construction of fine electronic circuitry. They created a rudimentary version of my panels, although not complete. For something as basic as the laser weapon boards, they are quite capable.
I hope so. I’d hate to leave this many Juirean ships intact, not when we could really make a splash.
“Paulson, where are you?”
“Right behind you. Our driver wasn’t as compliant as yours. We had to commandeer his cab. He’s safe in the backseat, but none too happy.”
A caravan of racing transports passed on the other side of the road, headed for the main gate of the APO complex, truckloads of armed Juirean green-hairs in the line.
“That is an unusual occurrence,” the driver commented. Through the rearview mirror, Adam saw the native narrow his eyes at his strangely-dressed passengers. “Other Juireans arrived at Advanced right after you did.”
“I’m sure a complex as large and varied as APO receives a lot of Juireans as visitors. Who knows what business they have at the complex?”
“Yes, you are correct. You are aware many of us are laboring without compensation? It is becoming very difficult to survive. That is why your currency has been greatly appreciated.”
That explained the native’s gushing over them. Good. Adam didn’t like the idea of overpaying for anything. The fact that physical gold would have considerable valuable within an underground economy made sense.
The spaceport appeared on the right, and the driver quickly passed through the wide entrance gate and stopped at the moving sidewalk. Adam and Riyad jumped out.
“Now proceed to the other spaceport quickly.” He passed another ingot to the driver, making that three he’d given him. “Use this to help your family and friends. No one should have to work for free.”
Small tears flowed from the mopey eyes of the dog-faced alien. “I shall. Thank you profusely. Thank you.”
Adam rushed off to join Riyad on the escalator. “I always knew you were a bleeding heart,” said Riyad. Then he smiled. “And quite free with other people’s money.”
“Panur’s gold? That, my friend, belongs to the universe.”
13
Ten minutes later the team was back aboard the Vengeance and in the engine room, with a panel removed from the bulkhead. Inside was a maze of wires, circuits and control modules. Pogo’s voice spoke from the overhead speakers.
“The four thin wafers on the left…remove them.”
Young Travis Morgan was doing the honors. He withdrew the thin plastic cards with a pair of needle-nose pliers. They were charred and blackened in several spots.
“Now insert the new boards, circuit side to the left.”
Riyad handed a board to Travis. A few moment later, all four were installed.
“I’m sending power through the circuits.”
Lights on several of the control modules came to life, and after a long three seconds, Pogo announced the verdict.
“They’re holding. Of course the real test will come when firing power is sent through them. But the fact that they route electricity successfully is a good indicator.”
“Excellent,” said Adam. “Prepare for lift off. Everyone—and I mean everyone—strap in.” He directed his last comment to Travis. “I want to light up as many of these Juirean warships as we can before we pop out of here. Need I say it: battle stations!”
Nineteen Juirean warships were in the spaceport at the time. Granted, they were the smaller Class-2’s, as well a couple of 3’s. The larger ones were in orbit, including a rare Class-7. The ships on the ground were laser marked and stored in the firing computer, with their engines as the primary targets. The Humans had four laser beam batteries, with a conservative recycle time of eight seconds between firings. The beams themselves had a duration of four seconds, making a total firing cycle of twelve. That was actually pretty long. A quick-thinking crew could activate shields in that time.
It was also determined that an enhanced laser shot could short-out a diffusion screen with a single blast. But that opened the Vengeance up to counter attack during the twelve-second recharge interval. There was nothing they could do about that. Adam had confidence they could bug out at a moment’s notice, but he wanted to rack up a pretty good body count before doing so. The units on the ground were a given; they couldn’t raise shields or lift-off before they’d all be toast. But the larger ships in orbit were another matter. It would all depend on how quickly the Juireans associated the unprecedented destruction on the ground to the tiny ship lifting from the spaceport.
Adam was in the pilot seat, still wearing the silly KKK sheet again—hopefully for the last time.
“Eniss Port Three Control, requesting lift-off permission,” he said over the comm link.
“Permission denied,” came the immediate reply from the dog-faced creature on the small screen.
“Denied? Why?”
“An area-wide flight restriction has been put in place.”
“By whose authority?”
The native on the screen frowned. “The Juireans. Power down and await further instructions.”
“Understood, Eniss Control.” Adam cut the link and removed the sheet. “Pogo, can we build up enough power to lift-off without Control knowing?”
“Difficult. My answer would be no,” said the disembodied voice through the bridge speakers. “The chemical jets require a forty-five second warm up from a cold start.”
“What about gravity drive? Can we create a small well to get us to optimum targeting elevation?”
“Such an event would affect an area around the Vengeance half-a-mile in diameter. That in itself would be noticeable.”
“Prepare for an energy burst to the generators. We’re going to make a mess anyway. With a gravity-lift we’ll take out a couple of the target ships without having to fire a laser.”
“On your command,” said Pogo.
Adam looked around the bridge at his small Human crew. “No turning back once we commit. Everyone get ready. Tom, light ‘em as soon as we’re high enough to have the ground units in your sights. Travis, watch for any counter response. Riyad, back me up on navigation. All right, everyone. Pogo, on three. Three—”
The ship bolted upwards.
“No! I meant on the count of three!”
The ship was on its way—regardless of Adam’s intended countdown—and even though the gravity-well was small and contained, it was still strong enough to carve out a perfect circle in the surface of the spaceport a half-mile in diameter and fifty feet deep. Nine nearby starships—including several of Incus ownership—were hurl
ed into the air. As the gravity-well extended away from the Vengeance, the massive chunk of earth trailing behind fell back to the planet, raining even more death and destruction on the spaceport.
A brilliant light invaded the forward viewports as the first four laser beams ignited. The light faded away quickly, and an agonizing eight seconds passed before the next flash of light. The ship was sixty miles above the surface when the last of the ground targets were neutralized.
“Incoming!” cried Sergeant Morgan from behind Adam’s station. “A small spread, poorly focused.”
Adam pointed the Vengeance straight for the stars and gunned the chemical jets. The extra surge placed them two hundred miles in space, and out of the envelope of the incoming flash bolts.
“Targeting the first Class-4,” Paulson announced. “Firing.”
With four incoming beams, the first one cancelled out one of the diffusion shield panels, allowing the other three to reach the hull of the huge warship unimpeded. Adam looked to the forward viewscreen, and on extreme magnification, the image showed three perfect circles appear in the shiny grey metal hull, followed by a series of powerful outward explosions. This particular Class-4 was history.
“Firing on number two.”
“More incoming.”
“Hold it steady for three seconds,” Paulson pleaded.
Responding immediately to the report of incoming bolts, Adam had already twisted the control stick, and with that maneuver the crew learned something new about their laser weapon: If they changed course during a beam firing, it lost integrity and dissipated. None of the last four shots reached their target.
“Sorry,” said Adam. “Lining up again. Status of the incoming?”
“Firing…again.”
“Full spread this time, Captain,” said Travis. “We’re going to take hits.”
A moment later, Morgan’s prediction came true.
“Forward starboard-number two down,” he reported. “Aft starboard-one down fifty percent.”
“The second C-4 is down,” Paulson reported.
“It’s getting kind of hairy out here,” Adam called out. “Where’s the C-7? If we’re going to be leaving soon, let’s see what we can do about that monster first.”
“It’s gone just beyond the horizon,” Riyad reported. “Looks like it doesn’t want to take a chance going up against us.”
Adam pulled the stick over and increased the well intensity. “Are you ready, Tom?”
“Just need a target.”
“There she is.”
“I’ve never seen a C-7 before,” said Travis, awe in his voice.
A Class-7 was the third largest class of Juirean warship in the fleet, with not more than twenty or so galaxy-wide. There were a few nine’s and one ten—but no eights, for some odd reason—so taking out this one would deliver a major blow to the Juireans in the Kidis Frontier.
“There’s a four-ship protective screen forming up, Captain,” said Travis. “They’re laying down a really wide spread. Damn, sir, it covers half the sky.”
“Pogo, how short of a hop can we make with the jump-drive?” Adam asked.
“Unknown, although it seems the farther out we jump, the more precise the results. Just opposite what one would expect.”
“Riyad, plot a point in the path of the C-7. Let me know when you have it.”
“It’s bugging out along a straight line; that helps. Okay, plotted.”
“Engaging jump-drive.”
The star field through the viewports changed. It was subtle, but the most obvious thing the crew noticed was the lack of incoming flash bolts steaking their way.
“Target to aft,” said Paulson. “Locking on—firing!”
As with the smaller ships, the first bolt knocked out a shield panel, followed by a penetration of the hull by the trailing laser beams. But the huge warship didn’t explode like the others. In fact, only one relatively small explosion erupted from a single beam hole.
The crew of the C-7 was better-trained and had more time to go to battle stations, so most of the interior compartments were already sealed and purged of atmosphere by this time. It would take a lot more hits to take her out.
“Firing second salvo.”
“They’ve launched a spread. Contact in forty-one seconds,” Travis reported. “We’re going to be hit if we stay here.”
“That gives us time for another two salvos,” Adam said. “Fire at will, Commander.”
“Launching again. Several hits showing up. Charging for last salvo.”
“Fourteen seconds to contact, Captain,” said Travis. His voice was calm. Like the others, he was in combat mode, something he’d been trained for.
“Firing!” Paulson announced.
Adam counted four seconds in his head. “Results, Tom?”
“She’s down, Captain. Explosions building. Splash one Class-7!”
“Engaging jump-drive!”
The star field changed again, and like before, the shift was subtle. A quick scan of the surrounding area found no Juirean warships. They were two light-years away and in a clear region of space between star systems.
Adam shut down the jump-drive and engaged a shallow gravity-well.
“The clock had us down to two seconds before contact, Mister Cain,” said Travis. “Just thought you’d like to know.”
Riyad smiled. “Hardly worth mentioning, sergeant. Tom, what’s the body count?”
“Nineteen on the surface, three in orbit, including the Seven.”
“Not bad for a day’s work.” Riyad looked at his friend. “What now, Mister Cain?”
“I thought we’d pay a visit to our old stomping grounds of Visidor. They had a lot of targets hanging around, just waiting to party.”
“That they did.”
“But this time it’ll be a simple strafe and run…maybe a couple of runs. I want the mane-heads running scared. Pogo, how did the boards hold up?”
“Extremely well. Leaving eight seconds between discharges helped. All systems nominal.”
Adam laughed. “You have been studying Humankind, haven’t you?”
“You’re an interesting species. I haven’t had this much fun in three billion years.”
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. Mister Tarazi, plot a course for Visidor. We have some havoc to wreak.”
14
It was a nine hour series of hops to reach the planet Visidor. Four months earlier, Adam and Riyad had spent a couple of days on the jungle-covered world, fighting Juireans and dinosaurs before escaping. The traitorous Copernicus Smith had been the catalyst in their being on the planet, as well as all that transpired leading up to Smith selling them off to the Klin for an undisclosed—yet substantial—amount of money. Two weeks of incredible torture followed before the pair—along with their alien friends, Kaylor and Jym—were rescued by a large Human strike force. Hundreds of dedicated warriors lost their lives that day when the huge Klin Colony ship exploded only moments after Adam and Riyad were rocketed off the station.
Avenging their deaths was a debt Adam was determined to extract from Copernicus Smith someday—hopefully in blood. But that would have to wait for another time. First there was the matter of rescuing Sherri Valentine and Arieel Bol.
The Vengeance dropped out of the last jump only four hundred thousand miles from Visidor. A quick scan showed five Juireans warships in orbit—four 3’s and a 4. Paulson had his laser batteries charged and ready for the first pass, which happened before any of the warships could raise their shields. Before Adam popped out of local space, two of the alien ships had exploded while the other three took direct hits.
But Adam wasn’t through. Knowing they could do short hops, he reversed course and came back for another pass. As he appeared for a second time, he was amused to see two of the ships try to activate their shields. Having been damaged during the first pass, energy readouts showed sporadic charges, before most of the shields failed completely,. The second swipe took out the remaining three vessels wi
thout a single defensive bolt being launched in their direction.
Without leaving Visidor space, Adam guided the Vengeance toward the surface. There was only one main spaceport on the planet, and that near the city of Swiv. Nine enemy ships had been located there; now they were lifting, leaving long trails of chemical exhaust in the skies above the city.
From the high ground, Tom Paulson riddled the rising starships with laser beams of intense plasma energy. Four fell back to the surface, with three crashing into the city in fireballs of death and destruction. The five remaining ships achieved orbit and spread out; however, only one tried to engage the Human warship, and was promptly turned into a fireball of its own. The four other ships raced away, knowing they were outmatched. Riyad plotted intercept courses using the jump-drive, and an hour later all but one of the Juirean ships were destroyed.
The Vengeance now closed on the last remaining ship. To Adam’s surprise—and edification—the vessel slowed and turned. He pulled back on the stick, and within minutes the two ships were sitting face to face, separated by only six hundred miles.
“What’s he doing?” Travis asked.
“Probably getting the courage up to make one last stand,” Tom Paulson replied.
Adam had already activated the ballistic weapons system, ready to unleash a rain of speeding lead projectiles at the Juirean warcraft. He was tired of the relatively clean and surgical laser beams. He wanted to see some shredding of an alien hull.
“They’re powering up. Looks like they intend to ram us,” Riyad noted
“Good luck with that,” said Travis.
And then the Class-3 accelerated, both by gravity-well and chemical drive. The distance between the two ships closed rapidly—almost too rapidly for the crew—all except Adam.
With steely grit, he held off firing until the very last moment. Then he pressed the trigger on his control stick.
None of the crew could see the actual rounds streaming through space, but they did see their effect. The front of the Juirean starship ripped apart, breaking into thousands of pieces of sharp shrapnel as the craft was unzipped down the centerline. Momentum carried it forward, as the Vengeance was buffeted with debris strikes. The Class-3 broke in two, with both halves passing within a hundred feet of the Vengeance. In the blink of eye, they were gone, having disappeared into the vast emptiness of space.
