The Human Chrinicles Box Set 4

by T. R. Harris

  The corridor ended at a large open area outside an open portal twenty feet wide. Inside, Adam recognized the large room from the ventilation diagram. It was the forward weapons station. The room was rounded at the far end, with a vast array of consoles, all manned by Nuorean techs and gunners. There was a frenetic energy in the room, as hundreds of aliens went about their tasks with speed and efficiency.

  Adam was at the front of the ship…and nine levels below the bridge.

  Banks of express elevators were off to both his left and right, each with a series of wide open stairways next them, to be used in case the lifts were inoperable. Adam began climbing. There was something about the unpredictability of elevators that always sent him seeking stairways. Besides, elevators made very effective jail cells.

  The stairs were being used by impatient aliens, preferring them to the elevators when moving only a few levels at a time. Adam kept his head down and his hands in his pockets, avoiding any traffic heading up and scurrying past downward traveling aliens without acknowledgement.

  The stairs ended at the ninth level. He stepped out into a crowded foyer, still without a weapon and only the hint of a plan. He grimaced when he spotted his target alien down the corridor, still wearing the plastic shield over his broken nose and conferring with three other Nuoreans in lighter green uniforms. Adam wasn’t anxious to commit suicide. He was looking to upset the apple cart, but not at the cost of his life.

  However, the officers with Daric did have energy weapons in holsters strapped around their waists.

  Daric turned and entered a side room. The three officers remained in the passageway, huddled together, impervious to the other aliens having to move around them in the corridor. Adam moved up to the small gathering. They didn’t clear the way for him, either, forcing him to move closer to the right, where Daric had gone. The door was still open, the room appearing to be the spacious fleet commander’s away cabin.

  As he passed, Adam snatched an energy weapon from the holster of one of the officers and raced into the room, approaching Daric from behind. It happened so fast that the aliens in the corridor didn’t react until Adam already had Daric by the neck and with the bolt launcher pressed against his temple. He spun the alien around, facing the others at the doorway.

  “Stay back or I’ll blow his head clean off.”

  The older alien struggled in Adam’s strong grip but was unable to break free.

  “Stop it!” Adam growled in his ear. “Relax and you just may live through this.”

  “Stay!” Daric barked out to his troops, like a master to a dog. The obedient officers obeyed.

  “Now back out and close the door,” Adam added to the instructions.

  The aliens focused on Daric.

  “Comply,” he said. Without the slightest hesitation, the officers left the room and the door slid shut.

  Adam spun Daric around and shoved him into a nearby chair, the weapon now aimed between the golden eyes. Through the clear plastic of the nose shield, Adam noticed matching black patches on the brown skin below them. The alien was smiling.

  “I have been studying you for a while now, Adam Cain, even before arriving in the Kac. You do not disappoint. Your challenge points will be phenomenal, and a lure to any who dare face you in the arena.”

  Adam ignored him, choosing to scan the room for secondary ingress and egress. A bank of monitors on the wall caught his attention. They showed various scenes throughout the ship—and all with looping images of him in corridors, stairwells, and even fighting the equipment techs near the holding cells.

  Stunned, Adam turned his attention back to Daric.

  “Yes, we have been monitoring you all along, very impressive.” Daric rose from the chair and walked to the monitors. Adam held the weapon on him but didn’t protest. The alien leader pressed controls on the wall and the images on some of the screens switched scenes.

  “Of the twenty-five prisoners, nine managed to escape. All except two went to the landing bay and were promptly recaptured. A creature known as a Que’l joined you in moving farther into the ship rather than seek escape to the outside. Only you made it this far, attributed to your ingenious disguise.”

  Daric moved to his desk and sat down. Again, Adam didn’t stop him. Instead, he moved to the chair he’d forced Daric into earlier and sat down. He looked at the weapon in his hand then back to the smiling alien face.

  “Correct. All the weapons of my officers have been disabled,” he said, answering the unasked question. “I was waiting in the corridor for you notice me.” Daric laughed. “Do not fault yourself, Adam Cain. The Nuor are masters at the game. We arrange scenarios and watch how others react. Your moves were efficient and effective, and even somewhat unpredictable.”

  “You let your own people die just to see how far I could get?”

  “Do not worry. They were players to be sacrificed. Their bloodlines will be awarded ancillary immunity points. They will not suffer.”

  Adam eyed the alien. He was slightly taller than Adam, husky, yet older than the other two Nuoreans he’d fought earlier. Daric also had a broken nose and would unconsciously favor the injury in a fight. Adam could take him, even without a weapon.

  As if reading his mind, Daric produced a three-foot long polished metal sword from behind the desk. He held it up for inspection.

  “We call this a ressnel, the weapon of preference in the arena. Even injured, I assure you I am an expert in its use.” He set the blade on the desk. “I have prevailed in thirty-eight prior challenges, most against much younger opponents. Although the prospect of head-to-head combat with you is nearly irresistible, at this point I would prefer to save you for a later date and a more formal setting.”

  “What is this all about?” Adam growled. “Who are you guys and why have you started this war with—with everyone?”

  “You mistake our intentions, Adam Cain,” replied Daric with sincerity. “We are not at war with your galaxy. To the contrary, we have no animosity towards you or any other race we find here.”

  “No, you just want to kill us.”

  “Not without purpose.” Daric leaned back in his chair. “We do not want your land, possessions or raw materials. All we seek is competition, players for our games. In my galaxy, we have run low on immunity races. As a consequence, society is stagnating. Without mobility through point acquisition, there can be no advancement.”

  “It sounds like a messed up system, if you ask me,” Adam said.

  “I assure you, it is not. We acquire points from everyday activities, such as life-skill proficiency, production quotas, even time on station performing assigned tasks. Yet we gain more points—along with a share of the possessions of others—by ritualized combat challenges. Seldom are any Nuoreans killed during such contests, yet they allow the entire race to develop skills at combat techniques. We do not fear these challenges. Indeed we welcome them, we seek them out.”

  “It sounds like you use these points like we use money.”

  Daric’s face grew animated behind the plastic mask. “That is correct! We have been monitoring your communications for some time, so I understand what you say. You are correct. Yet it is only through the most-risky challenges that a special category of points are awarded—immunity points. With these we may challenge others, while protecting all or a portion of our awards package.”

  “And you earn immunity points by fighting us.”

  “Precisely! As mentioned, challenges between Nuoreans are seldom fatal. Yet immunity challenges are always to the death. This implied level of danger, requiring an elevated skill level to prevail, is why challenges with aliens are so sought after.”

  “But you can’t possibly expect to arrange individual contests with every being in the galaxy.”

  “Of course not. Nuoreans can also acquire immunity points as members of teams facing off against fleets and armies of players—what you call warriors. The amount is considerably less, yet even the lowest-skilled among us can gain immunity points
through participation in large-scale challenges.”

  Daric paused, locking his eyes with Adam. When he continued, his tone was more…deadly. “That is why Nuoreans actively seek challenges. We do not run, we do not cower, we do not fear. This is what we are bred for. I have studied your galaxy through the abundance of open communications filtering freely throughout. I know how most of your species view such things. Most fight only when necessary. Nuoreans fight out of necessity. We fight to live.”

  Adam pursed his lips. “So what now?”

  Daric smiled again. “This is just the beginning. Although we have been monitoring the Kac, we have only just now made a live incursion into your galaxy. And you should be honored, Adam Cain. You are in the presence of the Nuorean tasked with the evaluation of your resident species, along with the assignment of immunity points for each. It should be a prideful moment that you learn Humans are at the top of the scale. In addition to that, I and my team will be evaluating individuals from all your races as they become known to us. Immunity points will be assigned to all.”

  “Then what?”

  “As the list grows, the identity and score of each individual player will be posted for all Nuoreans in the Kac to view. Those at the proper skill level will be able to challenge these individuals in single challenge.”

  “To the death?”

  “Yes, to the death.”

  “And what happens if one of these aliens wins the challenge?”

  Daric cocked his head. “In that event, the score for the victor goes up, making him even more attractive to potential challengers. Unfortunately, it never ends well for the challenged. They will continue to fight until defeated.”

  Now Adam smiled. “So when do we start?”

  “Patience, Adam Cain. We have only now acquired eight hundred six species from the gathering around your capital planet. They must all go through the evaluation process before individual points can be awarded to their kind based on general findings. In the meantime, a fleet of your Kac vessels containing many of these species is even now assembling, intending to challenge the Nuor. This was expected, indeed planned for. We will learn much during this confrontation, with the value of immunity points changing as the proficiency of each participating species is evaluated.”

  “And what about me?”

  “You will be transported to a holding planet, along with members from hundreds of other species we’ve acquired so far. Again, you should feel prideful. You are the only creature in this galaxy to which I have revealed our true intentions. You are the premiere player in your galaxy. From what I have witnessed so far, that distinction may be accurate.”

  “In that case, maybe you should be kissing my hand, you sonofabitch. You think you have this all worked out, but you don’t.”

  “Ah, I love the antagonism. You are trying to insult and provoke me. It is classic game strategy. I do hope there are many more like you.”

  “You can bet your sweet ass there are, and we don’t like being played.”

  Daric shook his head. “I’m afraid it is too late for that, Adam Cain. The game has already begun.”

  47

  The allied response fleet numbered nine hundred forty-eight vessels, and after much squabbling, the Juireans prevailed and were placed in command. The Humans had only sixty-one ships to contribute, with the bulk of their forces far away in the Orion-Cygnus arm of the galaxy.

  Riyad was okay with this. Humans had taken the lead against the Sol-Kor and look what that got them. Now it was the Juirean’s turn to be the point of the spear.

  Riyad and Sherri boarded one of the only eight Human warships in the vicinity of Formil and joined up with the fleet near the planet LocVer. The alien fleet had bolted away from Formil, but then slowed and weighed anchor a third of the way into a section of the galaxy closest to Formil, a place called the Radis Spur. This was the area the Juireans had retreated to after leaving their homeworld in advance of the attack by the Kracori. They had additional resources in the area, which could come in handy. They also knew local space intimately. That, too, was an advantage.

  It would take the allied force four days to reach the invaders from the assembly point. Trimen O’lac was aboard one of the twenty Formilian ships in the fleet, communicating with the Riyad and Sherri several times a day. He was going ballistic with each passing hour, frustrated because he wasn’t allowed to set off after Lila. The trail of the Aris ship had vanished twelve hours after leaving the Formilian system, yet before it did, it had maintained a straight line course, one leading directly for the Kidis Frontier.

  Zee had been found there, near the planet Incus, so it was reasoned that was where the Aris would be found. Their original world had been destroyed three billion years before, yet it was possible they set up shop somewhere nearby. Even then, over such an incredible passage of time, stars tend to wander. It would be a miracle if anything was even remotely similar to how it was back then.

  It was the only clue Trimen had to work with—until he found Adam and learned what he knew.

  At the moment, it was believed Adam was aboard one of the three-mile long warships in the invader’s fleet, a force of over four hundred ships just floating in space, seemingly waiting for something to happen. The confidence the aliens exhibited in the face of an impending attack by over double their assets made the strategists nervous. The enemy knew the allies’ capabilities better than they knew those of the invaders. Still, the attack on Formil had to be answered. After the battle, the allies would have a better idea what they were up against. That was another reason the planners were nervous.

  “I have reserved a vessel for after the battle so we may go after Lila,” Trimen told Sherri over the comm link.

  “Assuming that ship survives.”

  “I have been assured this initial contact will be tentative at best, designed to probe the offensive and defensive capabilities of the invaders.”

  Trimen was more up on the attack plans than were Sherri and Riyad. It was as though the Juireans were keeping the Human contingent in the dark intentionally, just so they could claim credit for whatever victory could be pulled from the jaws of the humiliating defeat at Formil. A senior captain was in charge of the Humans. Sherri and Riyad were on his ship.

  “Any plans for the big muther, where Adam is…we assume,” Sherri asked

  “None at this time,” answered Captain Douglas Davy of the USF Lexington. “I’ve asked the Juireans repeatedly and they just say it depends on the flow of the battle. I get the impression rescuing Captain Cain is low on their list of priorities.”

  Adam had almost single-handily demolished the entire Juirean high command a year ago, so Sherri could understand their reluctance to go out of their way to recover him, if he was still alive. She had a feeling he was. The aliens were more intent on capturing members of different species than killing them, having something to do with these games they were planning. That gave her hope that Adam was also just one of the hundreds of prisoners.

  She smiled. That could prove to be a mistake on the alien’s part.

  “Your fleet approaches,” Daric said with glee. He had come to Adam’s new cell—this one larger and more secure. Realizing the futility of escape aboard the huge starship, Adam chose to bide his time until they reached the holding planet, as Daric called it. That would open up a whole new variety of escape possibilities.

  “Are you preparing to surrender?” Adam asked the Lead-Player.

  Daric smiled. “I will indeed miss you when you are gone, Adam Cain. You are a quick and intelligent being. I enjoy your humor, even as I know it is rooted in hatred for me.”

  “Bingo!”

  “I do not understand.”

  “It’s a game we play. You just won.”

  “As is appropriate and expected.”

  “Do I get invited to a front-row seat for the coming battle?”

  Daric frowned. “Why would you? No, you are to remain here. This coming challenge is of no concern to you.”

&nb
sp; “Not unless you lose it.”

  “That will not happen. There is a surprise waiting for your forces. The possibility of our defeat is beyond calculation.”

  “Still, wouldn’t you want to have me near so you can gloat about your victory?”

  “You are attempting to persuade me to remove you from your cell, ostensibly so you can affect some kind of escape. That will not happen, and your efforts are disappointingly transparent. If you wish to go against me, please make it more challenging. Otherwise I may downgrade your score, placing you within reach of many more challengers once the list is distributed.”

  “Sorry, dude. I’m still trying to learn the rules.”

  “They will be explained to you as needed. For now, be aware that the first team challenge is about to begin, and the Nuoreans are anxious to begin scoring points, at the expense of hundreds of your warships and their crews.”

  48

  Riyad and Sherri were on the bridge of the Lexington, a fast-attack battleship with carrier capacity for sixty fighters. Captain Douglas Davy invited them to watch the battle, although assigning them no duties. All the crew stations were already manned.

  The enemy fleet had almost begrudgingly moved when the allies approached, like it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. They formed a line of ships, four deep and separated by half a million miles between each row, then they charged their weapons.

  Instruments aboard the Lexington read the electronic signatures of the weapons as standard flash cannon. There were three hundred twenty-four large ships with eighteen batteries each, with the remainder of the four-hundred ship force made up of smaller vessels with only six batteries each. The three-mile long carrier vessels—three of them in the fleet—had three hundred weapons ports, plus several launch bays containing hundreds of small fighters.