The Human Chrinicles Box Set 4

by T. R. Harris

75

  The allies knew where most of the Nuorean forces were in the galaxy, at least until this latest revelation concerning shifting entry points. But knowing the location of your enemy doesn’t always mean you were anxious to attack. Two thousand heavily-armed starships with well-trained crews was not something you took lightly.

  Yet Captain Akira Tanaka had a secret weapon: a recently-completed suppressor beam platform and forty beamships, ranging in class from destroyers to cruisers. Even with knowledge providing the task force commander with a sense of confidence, he suspected the Nuoreans wouldn’t be anxious to engage if he took the initiative.

  After the demise of Admiral Ware’s force, the enemy would know the allies were running scared, reluctant to engage even the smallest enemy force, expecting it to be a trap. So here was a fleet of slightly smaller size rushing to attack. Why? What gave the allies the confidence to believe they could win in light of recent events?

  If Tanaka was in charge of the alien fleet, he would suspect the allies had a valid reason to believe they could win. As a result, he would perform a strategic retreat until he could assess the why of the allied attack.

  So his challenge became how to make the aliens believe he wasn’t out looking for a fight, but just happened upon one.

  The first thing Tanaka did was not head directly for the Nuoreans. Instead, he gave them a wide berth, while segregating a segment of his fleet consisting of Juirean ships. The leaders of the Expansion had protested fiercely when yet another fleet was placed in the command of their age-old enemy. That was the truth. Humans commanded two-thirds of all the fleets, which pissed off the Juireans and set up the coming conflict perfectly.

  Next he initiated a running CW commentary between the two segments of his force—including their commanders on Earth and Juir—indicating the Juireans were threatening to break off from the main fleet and go it alone. As the fleet skirted the region where the Nuoreans were clustered, the argument came to a head and the Juireans split off, ostensibly to return to Juir.

  The Human contingent came to a halt, awaiting further others. They knew it wasn’t safe to be sitting still this far from planetary support, but command was in turmoil, frustrated with the Juireans and unsure whether to continue with the patrol.

  It was fairly well established by this time that most communications in the galaxy were being monitored by the Nuoreans. Hundreds of passive drones had been detected and many destroyed. It also meant many more were still out there. So when the departing Juireans just happened to engage a small screening force from the main Nuorean fleet, the fact that the Humans were ordered to come to their rescue became common knowledge.

  The beamships were located two layers back in the fleet, with the huge platform vessel at the center. Unfortunately, to lure as many enemy ships within range of the beams required that the leading edge engage the Nuoreans with conventional weapons. However, as expected, the aliens didn’t stay in contact long before shifting course and running away. They had employed this same tactic against Admiral Ware and now they expected Tanaka to follow suit.

  Without firm orders to the contrary, the headstrong Juireans set off after the invaders. They were vastly outnumbered and more than likely heading into a trap, which required Tanaka and his main force to follow, if only to rescue the surviving Juireans.

  At least that’s what Tanaka wanted the Nuoreans to believe.

  Everything went according to plan, and four hours into the battle, the secondary Nuorean fleet—the hidden fleet—made its presence known. Soon the space between the worlds of Deenen Sim and Rec So-em was filled with a blaze of brilliant plasma bolts, as over five thousand starships joined for a spectacular battle to the death.

  That’s when the beams were switched on.

  The effect was immediate and dramatic. Every enemy warship within range of the platform and the beamships ceased firing. Tanaka was ecstatic. He and others had been carrying a modicum of doubt whether the beams work on Nuoreans. Now they had their answer.

  All the allied ships emitted nulling beams to protect their crews from the stupor effect of the beams—a weapon first deployed against them by the flesh-eating Sol-Kor. Now Tanaka gave the order, and within seconds a wholesale slaughter of over three thousand enemy vessels began. Never in the history of space warfare had so many enemy vessels been destroyed with so little loss on the side of the victor.

  The Nuorean ships on the outer edge of the beam’s influence managed to escape. This was expected. But now the Nuoreans knew they were up against a galaxy that wouldn’t go quietly into the night. In fact, the Milky Way was about to become their worst nightmare.

  Fleet commander Sanelis (316) received the report of the crushing defeat within minutes of the fringe ships clearing the area. His fleet—along with two others—were stationed near the border of the Kidis and Dunnon sectors, essentially midway between the major governing planets of Earth and Juir. He had over five thousand vessels in the area, plus another twelve thousand in other parts of the Kac, less the three thousand he just lost.

  The reports came to him calmly and with detail. The Nuor were players; they didn’t let a sudden shift in strategy by their opponents fluster them too much.

  “I wasn’t aware they had influencing technology,” said Sanelis’ second-in-command, Lead-Player Anns (432) Kallen-Noc.

  “They have not employed it to date,” replied Sanelis. “I wonder why?”

  “Only recently invented?”

  “Techs have analyzed the data sent to us; the signature is highly refined, superior even to the beams we have developed. This is not something that just appeared. So again, I wonder why they are just now employing this weapon against us?”

  Sanelis had observed the courage of his race many times before, knowing that when faced with a devastating loss, they would see this as a challenge, an opportunity. Indeed, this new level of warfare against the Nuor would elevate the immunity points awarded to the fleet. The Kac had just got more interesting, even without individual challenges being widespread. His crews would welcome this news, not fear it, especially knowing they had a counter to the enemy’s influence waves.

  As if reading his commander’s mind, Anns spoke: “We do have countermeasures, and the fleet can be modified in a relatively short period, once refit centers are established in this galaxy.”

  “This is true. Influence waves have not been used in hundreds of years, yet their nullifiers are well known. Do the leaders of the Kac suspect we are not that sophisticated to have an answer for such a simple weapon? They must be desperate.”

  “What are your orders, Master?”

  Sanelis hadn’t thought that far, at least not enough to develop a long-term game plan. But he knew what to do in the interim. “Let them believe their weapon is effective against us. Have our fleets avoid the enemy, appearing to be frightened of engagement. Have them congregate at a central location, as if huddling in fear. This will give our enemy confidence…even arrogance. Then once our ships are equipped with countermeasures, the forces of the Kac could be lured to our location, expecting to slaughter us in one glorious battle. They will be surprised by the actual outcome.”

  Anns smiled. He appeared both physically and mentally stimulated; the execution of a masterful game plan was like sex to a Nuorean. “And for now?” he asked.

  “Send word to the fleets. Converge on the area around ND-12.” Then Sanelis himself grinned. “Many arenas are completed, more will come. We shall pass the time with individual immunity challenges for the senior players. There are Humans there, as well…a lot of them. The contests should be…entertaining.”

  76

  Riyad’s interview with the Nuorean Azon went about as well as the others. But for some reason, the alien decided to beat on the Human for a while, even if the effort brought spasms of pain to his injured face.

  The journey to where they were going was a week old, and Azon only visited the Human cell twice after the interviews. His face was healing rapidly, and the second ti
me he came to the cell he wasn’t wearing the face guard.

  “Damn, you’re a handsome devil when you’re not wearing the mask,” Sherri commented. “Be still my beating heart.”

  “Your words are confusing, and irrelevant,” said Azon. “I have come to inquire as to your physical condition.”

  Sherri stood up, thrust out her breasts in one direction and her hips in another in a very pin-up girl-like pose. “You be the judge of that, big boy.”

  “Why are you acting so strangely?”

  Sherri pouted. “Because I’m bored. When are we getting to wherever we’re going?”

  “Two days,” said Azon. “And I assure you that once we arrive, you will not be bored. We are going to a location designated ND-12. It is a sparsely-populated world near the boundary of the Human’s stellar empire and that of the Juireans. We have constructed an array of combat arenas and begun rotating our ships and crews to the location for individual immunity challenges. I hope you recall my promise to engage you all in contests with my Cadre players.” The alien’s smile was sinister, while his eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “Do you think you’re up for it?” Riyad asked. “The last time you went up against a Human shoe salesman, he nearly killed you.”

  The smiled vanished from Azon’s face. “That was not a challenge; it was an experiment.”

  “That went horribly wrong, I take it.” Copernicus added in his two cents.

  “That will not happen again.”

  “Because you’ll rig the games so you can’t lose. That’s really brave of you. You’re just a bunch of pussy gladiators.”

  The Nuorean glared at Sherri. “There will still be sport. You will have your opportunity to make the contests entertaining. And you, Sherri Valentine, will not be exempt. Our lower-ranking players will have the opportunity to meet you in the arena as well. The combat won’t be too challenging, but the uniqueness of the contest will entertain the crowd—at least for a moment or two.”

  “Like I said, real brave of you, dickhead.”

  Azon smiled. “I will leave you now so you can resume planning for your escape. But please hurry. You only have two more days to come up with a winning strategy before we reach our destination.”

  77

  Adam and Trimen opened the door to their room and passed effortless through the shimmering blue barrier beyond. Even after what Lila had told him, he still wished he had known about this earlier. There had been four juicy Aris targets sitting right across the table from him, their frail bodies no match for a rabid Human with a bad attitude. With only eighteen of the bastards around, it would have been a good start.

  The Aris space station was huge for such a small population, even if you counted the hundreds of robots that serviced the facility. So the corridor outside the holding cell was deserted as the pair made their way toward the energy control room. As mentioned before, Adam wouldn’t have had any idea where he was going if it hadn’t been for the Aris employment of the James Bond Syndrome. Now he not only knew the location, but the Aris had been so kind as to explain how important the facility was to their wellbeing.

  The Aris lived off pure energy, yet it was a refined form made from the background radiation of the universe. Adam had no idea what that meant, but it seemed important to the Aris. Beyond the control room was a vast chamber filled with rods and antenna that collected the ambient energy from the surrounding space. The energy was then fed into filtering devices that re-tuned the frequency to something that could be processed through their service modules and then delivered directly into their bodies. All Adam needed to know was that it worked for them, and without it they were up shit creek without a paddle.

  The control room was located half an hour from the holding rooms, which was a long way to go without being spotted. Fortunately, the Aris hadn’t built the station with internal security in mind. Why would they? Sure, they had adequate defenses outside against intruders, but for the majority of the station, only the Aris and their servants traveled the hallways and chambers.

  The going wasn’t completely without excitement. They did encounter three of the four-wheeled robots along the way, managing to scamper to cover before they passed. The bots made a distinctive hum that echoed in the hallway long before they appeared, and it was apparent none carried elaborate sensing gear because no alarms were sounded.

  Another feature of the space station was that most of the main chambers and control rooms didn’t have doors. So confident were the Aris that no breach of internal atmosphere or air pressure was possible, they didn’t see the need for pressure doors in case of emergency.

  When Adam and Trimen reached the control room, they simply entered through the open portal and ran to the proper station as instructed by Lila. The mutants had only spent a few moments in the room earlier—as had Adam and Trimen—but in that time they recorded every detail for later recall. Their genius also deciphered the purpose for most of the instruments and control panels, confirming once again the fatal flaw in the James Bond Syndrome.

  Adam scanned the main control panel, desperately trying to recall the words and sequence Lila had conveyed to him. It wasn’t easy, but fortunately, telepathic communication seemed to have a more lasting impression on him than did verbal communication. He grasped the concept of the procedure and set to work.

  “The energy is gathered and then fed into the re-tuners,” he explained to Trimen. “Lila wants us to channel the energy into the station’s main electrical system.”

  “That sounds…dangerous.”

  “It is. The only way we’re going to be able to escape is to stop the Aris for good.”

  “By destroying the station?”

  “Eventually. First we have to get away. That’s why the rechanneling has to be done quietly. Over time, the effect will multiply, making for one big ka-boom after we’re gone. Now take your place over at that panel to your right. I’ll feed you instructions as I work from here.”

  There were no chairs in the control room—robots didn’t need them and the Aris didn’t bother themselves with the actual running of the station. So the saboteurs stood before the consoles and began to make adjustments.

  “This is rather complicated; are you sure you have remembered all the steps?” Trimen asked.

  He was right, but Adam felt confident he could remember. Besides, the more he operated the controls, the more sense they made. He was concerned, however, when he didn’t notice any change in the meters or the sound of the collectors in the chamber beyond. A large, plate glass window showed the interior of the gathering room, and everything seemed normal inside. But Adam had to trust Lila and Panur. This was their plan, to keep the sabotage secret until it was too late. It wouldn’t pay for everything to go haywire long before the explosion. The Aris were too smart to give them time to find a solution to the impending disaster.

  “That should do it,” Adam said after about fifteen minutes of work. He looked over at Trimen, who returned his grin with an unusual display of white teeth for the alien.

  But then Trimen’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell slack. He looked down at his chest, to where a small black hole had appeared with faint traces of smoke rising from it.

  Adam looked to his right, to where three of the spindly, two-legged robots stood. One carried a small object that looked like a flashlight, although it wasn’t a flashlight. It was a laser beam weapon.

  Adam dove for cover, just as a small red beam sliced through the air next to him. It contacted the control panel, sending sparks along a black line in the metal. He crawled on his belly to his left, behind equipment blocks set in the floor. The clink of metal feet told him the location of the robots, which had never been designed to be stealthy. He stood up and saw them entering the room, heading for Trimen. Adam didn’t know if the beam had been lethal, but he wasn’t holding out much hope. The thought made his blood boil.

  He climbed to the top of an eight-foot-high piece of machinery and launched himself at the robots. He didn’t bo
ther with a high trajectory, but rather a straighter line path with the most force. Like bowling pins, he plowed them over, their tall, slender bodies not allowing for much leeway to retain balance. The rods, blocks and metal heads bruised his skin as he rolled over them. He didn’t care. He pulled on an arm made of three long rods, a maze of wires and a thin wire mesh covering. The limb didn’t break, but it did bend by ninety degrees.

  The robots made no noise, and their black, stereographic eyes neither blinked nor showed emotion. Adam continued to grab pieces and parts from the three fallen mechanical beasts, finding their construction to be loose and easy to rip apart. He continued in a savage rage for several seconds, until only one head remained intact, the dark eyes of the robot watching him as he climbed to his feet.

  He rushed over to Trimen, who had collapsed against the control console. His face was ashen, arms hanging limp to his side. There was life in his eyes, but barely.

  “Trimen, can you hear me?” Adam said as he examined the injury. As was common with energy weapons, the heat of the beam had cauterized the wound, leaving only a slight trace of blood on the thin cloth of the shirt. The opening was about half an inch in diameter with an offensive odor filling the air around the Formilian.

  “I…I am gravely injured,” Trimen replied. Air was drawn into the hole in his chest and exhaled, indicating a puncture directly to the lungs. Adam placed his hand over the wound, allowing Trimen’s breathing to come more evenly. Through his hand, Adam could feel the heartbeat. It was rapid but slowing noticeably. It wouldn’t be much longer.

  “Stay with me, Trimen.”

  “I cannot. Even now my vision is going. Tell Lila I—”

  And then he was gone, along with ten years of friendship and shared adventures. Trimen had been the first to train him on his ATD, and throughout the years, had shown up at the most opportune moments to help pull Adam’s ass out of the fire.