by T. R. Harris
“My friend, there are things in this galaxy you cannot comprehend,” the mutant whispered. “Your race will not survive what you have started here today.”
When Panur stood, he was Adam Cain once more. He turned to the stunned crowd as a universal gasp hung in the air.
“I am Adam Cain…Human! You have come to the Kac Galaxy seeking combat challenges to advance your civilization. Instead…you have found your downfall. You will all die, here and in your own galaxy, just as will this pitiful creature you profess to be your champion. He is nothing compared to Humans, and to so many other races within the Milky Way Galaxy! You have no idea what you have brought upon yourselves. Now I will show you.”
Adam/Panur turned toward Daric. He was still on his knees, wobbling, about to keel over. With a blur of his ressnel sword, Adam separated Daric’s head from his shoulders. As the head toppled to the dirt, Adam finished up by bringing the blade straight down through the body, splitting it half and exposing the inner organs of the alien for all to see.
In a final show of disrespect, Adam lifted Daric’s bloody head, looked once more into the vacant dead eyes, and then threw it over a hundred yards into the stands, evoking an eruption of gasps from the stunned audience.
Over fifty Nuorean guards came rushing the field, flash weapons aimed at the rampaging alien. Still sporting the image of Adam Cain, Panur raced into the mass of aliens. Flash weapons erupted, but none of the bolts struck him. Instead, Adam’s ressnel sword—the preferred weapon of the Nuorean games—sliced through twenty or more of the aliens before they fell back.
In a blur, Adam/Panur was at the sloping exit ramp from the arena, racing past where the real Adam Cain had been held. To his delight, the cell was empty.
Morphing into his true form—only a taller version to better cope with the long pant legs of his uniform—Panur flew past cells with stunned occupants, who moments before had watched the horrific scene play out on video screens. Many recognized the uniform, but not the face of the alien that rushed past. Even then, some cheered him on.
He came upon the spot where J’nae had killed the first three guards. A half dozen more were on the scene, cleaning up and investigating. Although they knew from the reaction of the audience that something unexpected had happened in the arena, they lacked detail. They watched Panur rush by, later to testify that the grey-skinned alien had a wide grin on his non-Human face.
Adam drove the huge black truck onto the dirt of the landing field, dazed and confused. The spaceport was a lot larger than when he arrived only nine days before, with additional land cleared to accommodate the rapidly building Nuorean fleet. He had no idea where he was going, which was obvious to the guards at the gate and others on the field. They waved for him to stop or change direction. This continued until he raced past them and they could see into the driver’s compartment. An alien was in control and dressed in the uniform of a challenge combatant.
More vehicles soon took up the chase through the spaceport, including two of the armored trucks like he was driving. He had no idea where J’nae was, or if she was even at the spaceport. He’d been expecting her to have already secured a starship…but which one? There were over a hundred scattered over the dusty field.
To your right, the large vessel with the double set of viewports in the front. The voice echoed in his mind, undoubtedly through his ATD.
Is that you, J’nae?
Who else would it be? Hurry.
If she could access his ATD, he wondered if she could also read his mind?
I cannot read your mind.
Adam steered the truck toward the indicated starship. If not, then how—
A very educated guess as to what you were thinking. Now hurry, Panur will be here shortly.
Adam pulled back on the speed dial, and with an extra push, the brakes locked up. The truck skidded to a halt next to the large spacecraft. J’nae was at the access hatch, still glowing white but not quite as much.
The back door of the truck burst open and everyone ran out, turning toward the starship. J’nae stepped aside to let them enter, that was until everyone was screaming at her about the heat. Reluctantly, she stepped outside, giving them a wider berth.
Sherri rushed past, as close as she could. “Jesus lady, put on some clothes.”
“I cannot until I cool.”
“Then morph into something without so much…detail.”
A moment later, a seven-tall Sasquatch-looking thing stood at the side of the ship, still white-hot but now covered in matching glowing fur.
Riyad was in the pilot’s seat, scanning the controls. It was one thing to escape on the fly; another having to pilot a craft whose controls you’ve never laid eyes on in your life.
“Damn!” he called out, at a loss to decipher what he was looking at. Adam and Sherri joined him a moment later. This was different than the controls of the small surface lander Adam had stolen from Formil.
It was a circular wheel—and that was it. No markings and no buttons or switches on a console. There was a monitor embedded in a panel in front of them, yet it was also devoid of side buttons or writing.
“What do I do?”
Trimen stuck his head over Sherri’s shoulder. She gasped when she noticed it was the Formilian.
Adam noticed her reaction and grimaced. He had just survived nine days in the clutches of galactic invaders, then led the heroic effort to set them all free—and yet it was still the animal masculinity of the alien that turned her on. He wondered why he even bothered.
“Take the wheel in your hands,” said the handsome alien. “I suspect you should feel finger holds underneath. These are the controls you seek. As to the function of each, I would have no idea except through experimentation.”
“Why have the generators not activated?” J’nae’s voice boomed from the entrance to the bridge. The transformation into the huge hairy beast had dissipated much of her excess energy, bringing her body temperature back down to normal.
“I don’t know how to fly this thing!” Riyad yelled back. “Do you know how?”
The Juirean Overlord, who was also on the bridge, cleared a path for the huge mutant. She leaned over a console along the starboard side bulkhead and ran her hand over the blank top. A screen came to life at her touch. She fingered the panel and a data stream appeared on a screen above the console. The images and writing scrolled by in a blur.
“I have to learn the Nuorean language first. It will only take a second—there. Now I will access the flight control instructions.” More data flew past. Without warning, she turned from the console and came to the pilot seat. “Move, I will do it.”
With enthusiasm, Riyad obeyed, then he joined the others at the back of the bridge. The generators began to wind up with a soothing vibration. They were getting somewhere.
“Someone’s coming!” Manny Brown yelled outside the bridge. “It looks like that gray thing. Manure, or something like that.”
The three Humans on the bridge looked at each other…and burst out laughing. “I’ll have to use that,” Sherri said.
Adam regained his composure. “J’nae, can we track the opposition outside. They’re not going to let us lift off without a fight.”
“Before acquiring this vessel, I disabled the spaceport’s automatic defense system, which could also be used to fire upon a departing ship, as well as incoming threats. Also, I have just now disconnected the remote access controls for the ship. All Nuorean craft are equipped with the means to be remotely controlled from a mothership.”
“That’s how they cut the power to the ship I stole from Formil.”
“That would have been possible. It will not work on this ship any longer. Look…Panur.” J’nae pointed at the screen and the oddly-shaped gray mutant shown racing across the field…with no less than six vehicles straining to keep up. He was still dressed in the battle uniform, which Adam noticed fit remarkably well, considering that Panur was normally only four-and-a-half feet tall.
As they
watched the screens, four armor trucks pulled up in front of the spaceship, having arrived from a different direction.
“They’re attempting to block our departure,” said the Juirean Overlord.
“True, except that we intend to depart upwards, not forward,” said a snarky Trimen O’lac.
“They’ll undoubtedly have units waiting for us in space,” Adam noted. “Where’s weapons control?”
J’nae pointed to her right. “The two banks along the right bulkhead. Swipe the consoles to activate the control panels. I will give guidance when the time comes.”
The three Humans raced for the consoles and the two built-in chairs in front of them. Adam got there first, while Sherri and Riyad wrestled for the other chair. The limber female managed to wiggle her shapely behind into the seat before her competition. Riyad grunted and walked away, sulking. “I guess I’ll run the nav station.”
“I have navigation under my control,” J’nae announced.
“Okay…then communications?”
“There will be little need for that,” the mutant pointed out.
Riyad fell back against the rear bulkhead. “I guess that leaves me running the mess hall. Anyone hungry?”
Panur rushed onto the bridge. “All secure, J’nae. Let’s go.” he said. He wasn’t winded, sweating or injured. He was just Panur, only a taller version of him. That changed when he morphed back to his normal size, leaving eight inches of pant legs bunched up on the deck at his feet. He bent down and tore at the excess fabric halfway up his legs, leaving enough to cover the gray, spindly appendages.
The ship began to move, riding a cloud of white smoke above the landing field.
“Make a sweep over the spaceport and the arena using a shallow gravity-well,” Panur ordered.
J’nae moved her hands around the wheel, stopping momentarily to press hidden buttons on the underside of the controller. The ship was about a thousand feet off the ground and taking flash cannon bolts from the armored trucks below. No fire came from the more-powerful planetside defenses set up around the landing field, thanks to J’nae preliminary actions.
When the mutant activated a gravity-well this close to the surface, weird things began to happen. The heavy trucks firing at them became airborne, only to fall away a moment later as J’nae changed course, taking a slow track over the field and toward the huge building visible in the distance. Some of the smaller ships in the field also lifted off the surface, only to fall back and explode upon impact. Larger vessels didn’t break contact with the surface, yet many did tip over or slide into neighboring ships, resulting in more damage.
Their stolen vessel picked up speed and was soon above the recently-completely Grand Arena. J’nae took a leisurely loop of the complex, causing huge sections of the superstructure to peel off and swirl into the air like in a tornado. A moment later, the entire upper half of the building was gone, with the rest being rained on by huge chunks of stone and metal, along with thousands of alien bodies.
Adam’s stomach turned, thinking about the prisoners who had been waiting in the cells below. There was a chance some would survive the bombardment, yet many wouldn’t. He gained some solace knowing that the destruction of the Grand Arena would delay further challenge matches until it could be rebuilt, affording those in the holding compound a few more weeks of life before the games began anew.
To his surprise, J’nae steered the ship toward the compound, five miles away. She didn’t fly directly over, rather just along the periphery, demolishing the boundary wall and sending panicking guards scrambling for cover. On a close-in view screen, Adam could see hundreds of ant-like creatures swarming over the other individual dots as the gravity influence subsided, igniting a riot and rush for freedom far below.
The Nuorean ship then turned tip-up and headed for the stars.
Adam looked over at J’nae. She didn’t have to help the prisoners, but she did it out of concern for their welfare. Maybe—just maybe—she did have a little compassion hiding deep in that evil soul of hers.
“You’re welcome,” the mutant said without turning.
Damn! She can read my mind!
55
There were hundreds of ships in orbit around the planet. Most had been alerted to the escaping starship but they didn’t seem too concerned, even in spite of the damage caused on the surface. One of the three-mile-long motherships was maneuvering for an intercept. In moments the electrical kill-switch would be activated and the comparatively tiny craft would be dead in the water, ready for recovery.
“Will the weapons hold their charges with the power off?” Adam asked the mutants unexpectedly. J’nae had read all the specs, so she knew every nuance of the ship.
“There are capacitors to store accumulated energy,” she replied. “They will retain their charges for up to eight hours before degradation.”
“Good, I have an idea.”
Five minutes later the impulse came through that would shut off all electrical power in the stolen ship. J’nae had already deactivated the switch, but when the signal was detected, she shut all the systems down manually. Two smaller ships emerged from the mothership, setting a course for their helpless vessel. Magnetic grapples latched on, and the ship was towed to the aft end of the battle-carrier.
Adam and Sherri sat ready at weapons control.
No shields were raised on either the tow-vessels or the huge carrier since the captive ship was without power for any of its systems. The lead ships entered the huge hangar and released the grapples. Internal magnetic lines would place the recovered ship within the bay.
With a brilliant flash, a barrage of powerful plasma bolts flared out from the smaller ship, aimed directly at the soft inner skin of the mothership. The bolts penetrated deep into the belly of the craft, igniting a series of massive explosions that rippled forward within the long hull. More bolts were released—a total of thirty in all—before J’nae fired up the Nuorean ship and sent it screaming from the landing bay, and just ahead of a massive wave of escaping gas and other debris blown out the back.
As they watched the image of the huge ship on the bridge screens, more breaks appeared in the shiny metal hull, spewing out brief flares of gas that were quickly extinguished in the vacuum of space. But the explosive force remained. The snake-like ripples reached the midpoint along the ship’s length, where a critical mass was reached. The behemoth split in two, with each half exploding almost in unison.
Those aboard the commandeered Nuorean ship gasped when the mothership blew up, the results far better than anyone expected. They were just looking to disable the ship and cause a little havoc along the way. Now it was splash one three-mile-long Nuorean battle-carrier. There were five more carriers in the original fleet, plus an unknown number in the two thousand reinforcements the late Daric (611) had mentioned. Even with that, it was a good start….
The huge explosion—along with the inability of the smaller Nuorean ship to respond to the kill order—gave J’nae the opportunity to enter a deep gravity-well and bolt out of the cluster. But she didn’t steer inward, toward the heart of the galaxy. Instead she sent the craft farther out along the Radis Spur.
Adam was too wrapped up in the celebration taking place on the bridge to notice the course direction. They were free, and they’d made quite the exit before leaving. And it was all thanks to Sherri, Riyad and Trimen—as well as the two mutants.
Panur made for a comical figure, dressed in a shredded and oversized wife-beater shirt and baggy cut-offs, both accentuating his slight build and light gray skin. Adam knew it was an illusion. Even without transforming into some powerful and deadly beast, the mutant was unstoppable, in spite of his diminutive build.
So was J’nae. She had reverted to her true form and was sitting at the main controls naked as the day Panur created her, displaying all the features that made her a female. Sure, she was an alien, but it still made the Humans on the bridge uncomfortable.
Sherri rummaged around the back compartments of the
ship until she located a medical gown in the small sickbay that was blousy enough to cover most of the alien’s seven-foot stature. J’nae took the garment without too much grumbling, knowing it would keep her from having to maintain an energy-sapping transformation into a more modestly-covered creature.
Adam began a short speech. All twelve passengers were on the bridge, a room designed to hold maybe six at tops. The smell was beyond tolerance, but he had something to say. “We—all of us—want to thank you for getting us out of that hellhole. I was at my wit’s end. We were going to die there, I was sure.” He looked at Panur and nodded. “There was a chance I could have taken Daric, but after that, who knows?”
“It would not have been possible, my friend,” Panur said. “Your sword was poisoned, as was the Nuorean’s blade. You would have succumbed, appearing at first to grow weary from the Nuorean’s relentless attack, after which he would have struck you down with much fanfare and ceremony. Adam Cain, you were destined to die this day in the arena.”
Adam smiled. “Well screw destiny…and screw Daric. He couldn’t even face me man-to-…alien without rigging the game. Thanks again.”
The Juireans and Adam’s three prisoner friends now offered their gratitude as well, before most of them sought better air in other parts of the ship. J’nae remained at the controls, as Panur pulled Adam aside, with Sherri, Riyad and Trimen tagging along uninvited.
Adam knew what was coming.
“Now my friend, you have already surmised my true intent. Although I’m glad you’re safe, tell me where Lila was taken.”
Adam needed the mutants if he was to have any chance of saving his daughter. It would be impossible otherwise. Hell, even with them, it may be impossible. The Aris had taken Lila without so much as batting an eye—and she was the most-powerful being in the galaxy—when not counting the Aris, of course. He would cooperate, even if it meant losing her at the end to Panur and his contention that she needed to be with her own kind.
