by T. R. Harris
65
Six days cooped up in a shuttle craft would try anyone’s patience and tolerance. So by the time the trio reached the location Panur had programmed into the nav computer, Sherri and Copernicus were on the skids, with Riyad ready to don a spacesuit and step outside to avoid the constant bickering. But things got serious as they scanned the empty space around them.
“These are the coordinates,” Copernicus Smith announced, “but nobody’s home.”
“That’s a good thing,” Sherri said from the seat next to him. “Just means Panur’s calculations were wrong.” As soon as she spoke the words, she regretted saying them.
“Panur wrong, yeah, right,” Riyad chimed in from behind her. “Maybe not wrong, just slightly off target,” he continued. “The gravity wave was real and it promulgated from somewhere around here.”
“Promulgated?” Sherri said. “Dude, you’ve been hanging out with geniuses too long. Now you’re beginning to sound like one.”
“And this is a bad thing?”
“Hey, there’s supposed to be a fleet of alien invaders out here,” Coop spoke up, getting the team back on topic. “The last time the Nuoreans came through they left a trail fifty light-years long, now nothing. Is that possible?”
The shuttlecraft only had two seated stations in the pilothouse, forcing Riyad to stand behind the others, looking over their shoulders or out the forward viewport at the blackness of space. He stood up a little straighter when a thought occurred to him.
“Unless they’ve learned their lesson,” he whispered.
Coop tensed. “Checking magnetic proximity sensors,” he announced, instinctively picking up on Riyad’s suspicions. If the alien fleet was in dark status, their energy signatures would be too dim to detect. Yet metal hulls created magnetic fields.
“We’d have to be right on top of one to notice,” Sherri stated.
“Cut power,” Riyad commanded.
“Don’t do it!” Coop countered. “If we do, that’ll broadcast the fact that we know they’re here, and I’m pretty sure they already have us pinpointed. It wouldn’t do us any good to go dark, not now.”
Sherri had the magnetics up on the main screen. She set the indicator to portray a grid of thin lines that would be influenced by any magnetic disturbances in the empty void surrounding the ship. The lines ran horizontal and vertical, with no deflection. But then they noticed a slight bending of a line along the right side of the screen. It wasn’t much—not until magnified—then the deviation became unmistakable. Something was invisible beyond their other sensors, and it was made of metal.
“Distance to anomaly…three hundred thousand miles,” Sherri announced. “It’s stationery, relative to our position.”
“But we’re not…we’re moving,” Coop said. “That means so are they, using gas jets for maneuvering.”
“There’s another deflection,” Sherri said. “This one’s to port, also matching course and velocity.” She took a deep breath. “We’re screwed.”
“Maybe not,” Riyad said. “They haven’t blown us out of the water—not yet.”
Coop sent a dotted red-line course to the main screen, showing the quickest way out of this part of space.
“You’re kidding me?” Sherri asked. “We’re in a goddamn shuttle craft, without a single exterior-mounted weapon. And that’s not to say we wouldn’t run smack dab into the heart of their fleet if we bolt out.”
Copernicus smiled. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, but if they don’t accept our surrender, running may be our only option.”
None of them questioned the mention of the word surrender. From past experience, raising the white flag often opened up more options, while maintaining the prerequisite of living beyond the next moment.
Coop cut the engines and turned up the internal energy signature, broadcasting to everyone in the area they were here and offering no resistance. Moments later, four small Nuorean attack ships appeared after igniting their gravity-drives. Another large craft made its presence known, just as one of the three-mile-long battle-carriers materialized. Coop was surprised that a vessel of that size would go dark to avoid their small shuttle. That would have meant shutting off gravity and life support to a crew of over ten thousand. The aliens must be serious about remaining undetected, which didn’t bode well for the Humans. With what they knew, keeping them alive would be too great a risk.
Thirty minutes later, the shuttle had been boarded and the three Humans transferred to another craft for the ride to the battle-carrier. The aliens let the Najmah Fayd’s shuttle drift off unmanned, rather than bring it aboard, apparently worried that it might be carrying a bomb designed to either damage or destroy the huge warship.
Once in the small Nuorean transport vessel, their images were scanned and transmitted, resulting in a waiting entourage in one of the huge landing bays of the carrier. Nuoreans didn’t display rank as brazenly as did the Juireans—or Humans, for that matter—so it was hard for Riyad and the others to distinguish between the dozen or so aliens in the group; however, one of the creatures did standout from the rest, by the plastic guard he wore over the bruised skin on the left side of his face.
Another tall Nuorean stepped forward as the trio disembarked.
“I am First-Lead Sanelis (314) Kallen-Noc, commander of Nuor fleets,” said the alien. “Facial recognition has identified two of you as Riyad Tarazi and Sherri Valentine. The other Human is unknown to us. Upon further research, our surprise was elevated when we discovered your histories. You are well-known within the Kac, and the chance of being innocently within this region of space cannot be a coincidence. You have come deliberately, which raises many questions.”
Sanelis turned to the Nuorean with the face mask. “Fortunately, we have aboard a unit of the Third Cadre tasked with the evaluation of Humans, especially with regard to the creature known as Adam Cain. It is indeed a small galaxy that I now have two of his legendary team aboard my ship. I will now turn you over to Spec-One Azon (1901) for interrogation and testing. He carries the primary authority over your fate, but I must remind him to hasten his investigation. The forces of the Kac may now be aware of our presence.”
The injured alien came forward. He studied the emotionless faces of his captives before addressing them. “I am indeed fortunate, as I may now be able to solve the mystery of Adam Cain. Take the prisoners to Section Nine, under Cadre guard. The evaluation will begin immediately.”
Riyad flashed his impossibly white teeth at the alien. A moment passed between them as the creature first tensed, then calmed. “That looks like our handiwork.” Riyad said, making a point of looking the plastic guard up and down. “Who did it?”
“No one of importance, simply a Human classified as a merchant…a shoe merchant.”
Riyad chuckled. “If a salesman did this to you—” his smile grew wider, more wicked, “—just imagine what I could do to you.”
The alien tried to return the ominous smile but grimaced instead from the pain of his injury. “Aboard this vessel, our current interaction will be controlled. Yet because of your challenge, Riyad Tarazi, I will make it a personal goal to defeat that rebellious nature of yours in a most unpleasant manner.”
“Looking forward to it, asshole.”
“Take them away.”
“Way to go, Riyad,” Sherri said once the trio was placed in a locked room with a thick glass door and guards outside, watching their every move. “Poke the bear when he’s holding all the cards.”
“You’re mixing metaphors, my love,” he replied. “Yet you must remember that an angry enemy is prone to act emotionally, often resulting in critical mistakes being made.”
“Or he may just step in here and slice off your head—problem solved.”
“Then I will leave it to you and Coop to avenge my death.”
Copernicus Smith sat on one of the three cots that had been crammed into the much-too-small room. “Is this how you guys always talk?” he grunted. “If you haven’t noticed, we’r
e in some deep shit.”
Riyad turned to the starship repairman. “Copernicus, my friend, you’re supposed to be this unbeatable super-spy, so I have every confidence you’ll figure a way out of our current situation.”
Coop looked at Sherri. “Maybe for Sherri and me, but you, buddy, happen to be the third-wheel around here.”
“The story of my life.”
66
True to his word, the alien began the interrogation of the Humans only minutes after being placed in the cell. A force of guards came in and removed Sherri. There was some shoving and name-calling as the men protested, but Sherri calmed them down, saying this was just the opening salvo, so nothing to worry about.
She was taken into a large room with a long table and a series of monitors in the walls. The masked-alien—Azon—was there, along with four other Nuoreans all dressed in dark gray uniforms with a single yellow stripe on their left breast.
As she was shoved into a chair on the opposite side of the table from Azon, two of the aliens grasped her arm and held it against the tabletop. One then took a knife and opened a two-inch-long cut on her forearm. She let out a whimper before gritting her teeth against the pain, refusing to display any more reaction to the injury.
With a look of confusion and frustration, Azon watched the blood flow from the wound. After a moment, he nodded and a gauze bandage was provided. Sherri was released and took the swab, dabbing it on the cut, cleaning up most of the blood. She met the alien’s eyes evenly and without fear.
He looked flustered, even though he hadn’t asked a question or received a reply. Sherri found his reaction…puzzling.
“You bleed, just as the others,” Azon finally said.
“Just as you will…when I rip your head off your shoulders.”
The alien dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. “There is no need for your bravado, Sherri Valentine; I was not insulting you. However, your commonality is what confuses me, adding to the evidence building regarding the Humans. The fact that you bleed may save your race from extinction.”
It was Sherri’s turn to be confused.
The alien activated a monitor on the wall using a small remote control. The image that appeared was of the security compound where Adam and the others had been held in the Radis Spur, before Sherri’s arrival on the planet and his subsequent rescue.
“Adam Cain was observed being attacked by other species of the Kac, and even subdued by Nuorean forces when he and a group of prisoners attempted an escape.” The video was taken from above the compound, with selective zooms where appropriate. Then Sherri and her people arrived, including the two mutants, Panur and J’nae, morphed into Human shape.
“Your associate did not seem pleased to see you,” Azon commented as the video played.
Sherri remained silent.
The scene shifted, to that of the Grand Arena and the challenge between Adam and the Nuorean leader—she’d forgotten his name. She watched, fascinated as the events unfolded, as Panur—disguised as Adam—fought the alien to the death, before escaping the stadium, leaving a bloodbath in his wake. Panur had given them a brief account of the battle, but obviously left out a lot of detail. Watching it on the monitor was much more impressive. The video ended.
“You can now understand my confusion,” said the Nuorean. “At once your Adam Cain is a submissive prisoner, quite mortal and ordinary. The next he displays skill and unnatural abilities that would have allowed him to escape at a time of his choosing. Such savage cunning—to maneuver himself into a challenge with the First-Lead just so he could completely humiliate the Nuor—is both admirable…and worrisome.”
Azon turned to Sherri, placing his arms on the table in almost a pleading gesture. “You must recognize my dilemma. The Third Cadre is tasked with the discovery and eradication of Jundac races, those species the Nuor deem too dangerous to survive. After observing Adam Cain, it should be undeniable that Humans would be Jundac.” He looked at Sherri’s bloody wound. “And yet you bleed—as have all the other Humans we have tested. With such an abundance of immunity races in your galaxy, I should simply order the destruction of your homeworld…as a precaution. And yet if your race is not Jundac, then it would provide a wealth of immunity points for the Nuor, which is why we are here.”
The alien looked at the blank video screen. “I must therefore conclude that Adam Cain is an anomaly, a mutated being of some kind and not representative of the Human race as a whole. It would explain much, such as his pronounced reputation throughout the Kac.”
Sherri was relieved. For a moment she thought the alien was going to decide on the destruction of Earth as a way to solve his Adam Cain problem. It was to her advantage to keep the Nuor believing Adam was a superman.
“Regrettably, I cannot definitively conclude that your world does not contain other such anomalies, in fact a possible sub-set of such creatures. The history I have studied of the Humans show that your race should not have achieved its status within the Kac in such a short time. Therefore, there must be other factors at work.”
“No, Adam is unique,” Sherri said. “You’ve seen Humans; we can die just like the next guy. We’re just mean. That’s why we’ve been able to achieve what we have.”
“I agree—you are mean. And it is this viciousness that worries me. Jundac races need not possess super powers to be a danger to the Nuor. And even as I face you, I am also aware of your deceptiveness. You may say Adam Cain is unique, yet why should I believe you? That is just what one would expect you to say if there was a segment of your race with the same abilities as an Adam Cain—”
“That wasn’t Adam fighting your leader,” Sherri blurted.
The alien stopped speaking and stared at Sherri. He turned the video on again and replayed the battle in the arena, pausing and zooming in at times as Adam was repeatedly stabbed, yet with no blood or signs of lasting injury.
“That is not Adam Cain?”
“No, that was a mutant.”
“So Adam Cain is a mutant!”
“No, it was a mutant who looked like Adam. Adam was with the rest of us making our way to the spaceport while the fight took place.”
“I do not believe you.”
“Just think, it makes sense. You have video of Adam in the prison—and then suddenly he can’t be killed. That’s because a mutant took his place.”
“A mutant? Your galaxy appears rife with mutants. I have heard rumors of others—even within Adam Cain’s blood-team.”
“Yeah, his daughter Lila is also a mutant.”
“Yes, that is one of the myths. Yet if Adam Cain can birth a mutant, would that not make him a mutant as well? You have revealed your deception, Sherri Valentine.”
“Adam’s not a mutant, but he did help make one. It had something to do with an interspecies mating.” Sherri didn’t know if revealing the presence of the Aris at this time would make a difference; the alien was already skeptical enough of her story. If she threw in a three-billion-year-old race that manipulated budding species in order to produce Lila, that would be too much for Azon to accept—hell, even she found it hard to believe.
“Your story is fantastical. Do you think me stupid?”
“Of course not, it’s just that mutants are real.”
The alien referred to a datapad. “There was mention of another, a creature called Panur.”
“That’s right! He’s the one who impersonated Adam.”
Azon leaned back in his chair and smiled. He looked around at the other Nuor in the room. “Can you believe the audacity of these creatures? They expect us to believe such wild stories.” He looked again at Sherri. “Your race is insane…and definitely a threat. We seek competitive challenges where we can hone our skill and rise in status within our society. Facing insanity is not what we desire. It makes the outcomes too…unpredictable.”
He returned to his datapad and began to make entries. “I thank you, Sherri Valentine. You have helped in my decision-making. Although my recommendation mus
t first be reviewed before acceptance, I am classifying the Human race as Jundac. You—and your companion Adam Cain—have just sentenced your species to extinction.”
Well that didn’t go exactly as planned, Sherri thought on her way back to the holding cell. Now she had to figure out how to tell the others that she’d spilled the beans on Adam…and in the process convinced the alien Azon to schedule the destruction of Earth.
Hell, she’d only been gone ten minutes.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault if the aliens can’t handle the truth,” Copernicus said in her defense a few minutes later.
“Besides, the Human race has been threatened with extinction before and we came out just fine,” Riyad added. The men could tell how rotten Sherri felt following her interview.
After helping Sherri clean the wound in the grooming station, Coop tore off a strip of his shirt and tied the cloth around her arm to stop the oozing.
“And here I thought I was so clever using Panur to impersonate Adam back then.”
“If you hadn’t he’d be dead by now,” Riyad countered. “It was the right decision.”
The door opened again, and this time it was Coop’s turn to face the inquisitor. Sherri had told him that Azon and four other gray-uniformed aliens were present for her interview. For his, the fleet commander Sanelis was also present. Copernicus was placed in the same room as Sherri, evidenced by the trace of blood on the tabletop.
“Who are you and what is your relationship with Adam Cain?” asked Azon.
“I’m Copernicus Smith. I’m a starship repair technician. I have no relationship with Adam Cain.”
Sanelis turned to Azon, anger in his eyes. “This Human is of no value to us,” he announced. He rose from his seat. “I have more important things to do. Eliminate him—”
