The Andromeda Mission (The Human Chronicles Book 19)

by T. R. Harris

  “You do know the pulse is aimed at Earth, don’t you?” he asked.

  Sherri jerked her head in his direction. “What did you say?”

  “You didn’t know? That’s why it’s so far into the galaxy on this side.”

  “We have to destroy the generators…now! Or stop the pulse.”

  “We can’t use the bombs,” Coop said. “But Adam thinks he has a plan.”

  “He thinks he has a plan?”

  “It’s Adam, babe. Don’t tell him I said this, but I have confidence he’ll do the right thing.”

  “So do I. But if he screws up, not only will we die, but so will everyone on Earth.”

  They turned their eyes to the screen again. “I’m just glad it’s him out there and not one of us,” Sherri said. “No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” the men said in unison.

  ********

  Adam steered the Najmah Fayd to what would be the right side generator and approached near the outer end. He turned the ship on its nose and gently maneuvered it toward the surface. Tiny gas jets burped at his command until contact was made.

  “Sherri!” he said aloud for the benefit of Kaylor and Jym.

  Her response was channeled through his ATD and into his mind. The tiny tactical comm units the team wore didn’t have the range to reach the generator complex.

  I’m here. So is Coop and Riyad.

  “Good. Now watch the red dot I placed on the screen. I’m going to try to line up the transit line with that dot. Understood?”

  Aye, aye, sir.

  “Okay, here goes.”

  Adam truly had no idea of if the relatively tiny starship could make the fifteen-hundred-mile-long monster move even an inch. But an inch, over intergalactic distances, would be enough to save Earth. The question after that: Could he do enough to save the team?

  He lit off the chemical engines, gently at first. He had to apply slow and steady pressure rather than a strong heavy burst. If he did that, all he’d do is punch a tiny hole in the hull surrounding the generator and smash the nose of his ship. After thirty seconds, he opened the link with Sherri again.

  “Anything?”

  Not that I can see, but the scale is pretty big.

  “Press the button on the left side of the keyboard with the infinity symbol. That should zoom in.”

  That worked, but still no change I can tell.

  “Patience. This is a big-ass muther I have to move.”

  Adam checked the chronometers. LP-5 was due to go off in twenty-one minutes, LP-6, an hour later. He felt pretty sure he could move the behemoth. What he wasn’t so sure about was how long it would take.

  He increased the thrust a little, which reminded him of another problem. He was running low on chemical fuel. Normally, the rockets were used only for lift offs and landings, so a small supply could last a while. But they’d been using the chem jets for everyday propulsion. He checked the gauge and shook his head. Like everything else, it was coming down to the wire.

  It’s moving! Sherri screamed in his mind.

  “How much?”

  Enough to be noticed. Can you shift it a little the right?

  “Your right or mine?

  More toward the station.

  “Got it.” Adam angled the nozzle deflectors a fraction, which changed where most of the pressure was applied on the generator shell.

  That’s it. It’s really moving now.

  Adam couldn’t tell that it was moving at all. But it didn’t have to shift much.

  You’ve done it, Adam! Earth is saved!

  “Thanks, but there’s more to do. Let me know when the line is on the dot.”

  Get ready. Okay! Stop.

  Adam cut the thrust and held his breath. This was the moment of truth.

  “Is it still moving?”

  No, not that I can see. Is it supposed to?

  “No; I was worried it would just keep moving.”

  What about the distance to the TZ?

  “That’s my next project. I’ll be in touch.”

  Adam pulled the Najmah Fayd away from the generator tube and skirted along the surface. Half a dozen Nuorean warships hovered above him, matching speed, but refusing to fire toward the generator complex. He wrapped around the huge metal-frame sphere and dropped down toward a box set on top of the left generator. At first it looked small and insignificant, but the closer they got, the bigger it became.

  “What is that?” Kaylor asked.

  “It’s the airlock and auxiliary control room for the generators.”

  Adam set the ship down next to the entrance to the airlock.

  “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Before the aliens could react, Adam was off the bridge and sprinting down the spine corridor for the landing bay. Once there, he pulled a spacesuit out of a closet and slipped it on. Two minutes later, he opened the back door and stepped out onto the surface of the midpoint generator.

  It was an eerie feeling. The surface extended into the distance with no edge in sight, looking like a flat sheet of metal in space. Above him was the black emptiness of space—along with six Nuorean warships keeping an eye on things.

  He took in the sights for only the twenty steps it took to reach the airlock. He opened the door then sealed it behind him. Automatic sensors took over and air filled the chamber. Adam passed through the inner door and into a large compartment lined with basic monitors, consoles and chairs.

  There were also two Nuoreans in the room who didn’t much appreciate his arrival. Fortunately, they were unarmed. But they were Nuoreans. One of the aliens swung a balled up fist at his helmeted head. Adam ducked, hearing a loud thud on the top of his helmet. The alien stepped back, holding his injured hand in the other.

  Adam was wearing spacesuit gloves with heavy copper fittings. He lashed out a wide, powerful swing that caught the injured Nuorean across the side of his head. He was dead before he hit the deck.

  The other alien then jumped on his back, grasping for Adam’s life support hoses. Adam dropped to one knee, sending the Nuorean tumbling over his shoulder. Another straight punch with his now super-human strength, and his last obstacle was gone.

  Adam surveyed the controls set about the room. It wasn’t hard to see where the alien Morlon had ripped units from the walls and consoles. But Adam was looking for something else.

  He found an undamaged console and sat down. He took off his gloves and pressed a button that lit up the screen, after which his fingers began to dance on the keyboard at warp speed, while he read at a pace that made the symbols blur. Then he froze the screen. He read the information displayed in more detail.

  He began to type again and more images flashed by. He slowed the progression until one particular screen appeared. Adam smiled.

  Sherri? he said, this time completely within his mind.

  I’m here.

  Watch the length of the line. Let me know if you see any change.

  He began to rapidly punch the same key over and over again.

  Whoa! That’s doing something. It’s almost to the dot.

  Let me know when.

  A few more taps and then….

  That’s it. Bullseye. Are you done now? If so, get back here. We’re running out of time.

  On my way.

  ********

  Three minutes later, Adam was back in the landing bay of the Najmah Fayd.

  “I’m back, Kaylor. You can take off.”

  “Pardon me, Adam, but there is a force of alien warship sitting overhead. I would prefer if you were at the controls.”

  Adam smiled. “Yeah, that might be a better idea. Be there in ten seconds.”

  Adam took the controls and sent the ship racing along the seven hundred mile length of the left side generator, skimming barely twenty feet off the surface. He was on chemical drive and gaining speed as he went. The Nuoreans ships above him had no problem keeping up.

  But then Adam made a sharp left turn, channeling the exhaust thro
ugh the starboard side nozzle. He’d given Kaylor and Jym a heads up before making the turn, but it didn’t make a difference. They began to bitch and moan immediately after regaining their senses.

  The ship was now in open space, and although the six alien ships were surprised by the sudden move, they recovered quickly and sent nine deadly plasma bolts racing his way. Nine bolts were a lot for Adam evade, at least without killing his crew, but he did it. Now his alien friends were too battered and weary to complain. Adam would take the peace and quiet when he could find it.

  After engaging a shallow gravity-well, five thousand miles of space was a hop, skip and a jump for the Najmah Fayd. The inertia compensators helped with the rapid deceleration at the space station. Adam steered the ship into the landing bay, crushing one of the team’s PAVs in the process. Adam grimaced as the metal crunched, but was secure in knowing the tiny craft would no longer be needed.

  Adam told Kaylor and Jym to stay put, saying the rest of the crew would be joining them in a few minutes. Then stilled dressed in his spacesuit, he left the ship and passed through the airlock into the space station.

  Adam followed Coop’s directions for the fastest route to the control room using the internal airlock. Once in the room, he removed his helmet and gloves. Sherri, Riyad and Copernicus all congratulated him on saving the Earth, although their spirits didn’t match their words. Adam knew why.

  The LP-5 generators were set to go off in twelve minutes, which was about thirty minutes too short. He had adjusted the TZ for LP-6—making it possible for them to reach it between the pulses—but without making the first connecting train, they were doomed to miss all the others.

  “Hey, cheer up,” Adam said as he sat at the main control console. “All is not lost.”

  “I hope you’re not just screwing with us,” Copernicus said.

  “Not this time.” He began to type on the keypad.

  Sherri leaned in closer, although she couldn’t read a word of Nuorean. “What are you doing?”

  “Let me ask you: What is my main function within the team? Don’t answer that, I’ll tell you. I’m the ass-saver onboard. I save asses for a living.”

  Riyad put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “So what do you have in mind this time, Adam the Ass-Saver?”

  He continued to type as he talked. “All these stations are linked together by wormhole communications…and right now I’m trying to link up with LP-5.”

  “Why? They aren’t going to hold up the shot until we arrive at the TZ,” Sherri said. “As a matter of fact, they probably have another fleet waiting at the other end to reinforce their comrades at this end.”

  “Ah…there, I’m in.” Adam turned to his friends. “I have just hacked into their controls.”

  “Can you stop the launch?” Riyad asked.

  “I don’t want to. Instead….” He turned back to the board and typed some more before shifting the screen display to a graphic of the LP-6 complex, including the space station. Slowly, a small round circle came on the screen and began to move toward the station.

  “Remember, these transit lines can transport two-thousand-ship fleets at a time,” Adam said. “So why can’t they also transport a space station?

  A moment later, the rest of the team was hovering over his shoulder, watching the red circle move closer, until the space station was just inside the line.

  “Is that the TZ for LP-5?” Sherri asked.

  “It will be…as soon as I give the order. I don’t want to change anything until I know the gray techies can’t change them back.”

  The LP-5 transit zone covered an area of two hundred thousand miles, which was a little less than the distance between the Earth and the Moon—LP-6, had twice that volume because of its larger generators. Adam had to be careful not to move the TZ too close to the midpoint generator complex otherwise it would affect the aim, or possibly even damage the inner workings. Adam wanted to make sure LP-6 lit off on time.

  Sherri made contact with Kaylor through her throat mic and let the aliens know what was going on. They had been climbing the walls as the clock ticked down, thinking their chance of survival was ticking down as well.

  “Get ready everyone,” Adam said. “Ten seconds before I take over…fifteen to jump. Six…five…four….

  When Adam commandeered the generator alignment controls for LP-5 dozens of attitude jets fired off, making the almost infinitesimal change required to move the TZ to the space station. The distance the transit zone had to move was only half a million miles. It took only a shift of three-quarters of an inch to make that happen.

  The generators fired the moment the TZ shifted.

  Chapter 22

  The space station disappeared from the region around the LP-6 generator complex and reappeared a split second later half a million miles from the original transit zone within the Nuorean system. Sherri had been right. There were thirty additional warships ready to make the jump. Now their captains were scratching their heads wondering what went wrong?

  They weren’t the only ones.

  Grand Master Rodoc (1,402) Kallen-Noc had been kept abreast of the events taking place at LP-6. He had open wormhole comms with the generator complex as well as the ships on station, even after contact was lost with the space station. He knew Morlon (783) had disabled the alignment controls for the generators and then returned to the station. He hadn’t been heard from since.

  As the time drew closer for the two LPs to activate, Rodoc moved a monitor tech into his estate and set up the equipment in his office. He knew Adam Cain was in the station, and with a combination of nervous energy and game tension, the Grand Master was anxious to see what the Human would do next.

  The fact that Cain and his team were at LP-6 was a testament to their tenacious skill, as well as Morlon’s many failures. If the Human was able to disrupt the operation of the midpoint generator complex, then Rodoc could do—would do—nothing to protect the Cadre officer. Even in Nuorean culture, losing had consequences, beyond loss of points and possessions. Someone in Morlon’s position was also subject to punitive actions, as determined by the GMs.

  For now, the verdict was still out. LP-5 would set off any second from now, with LP-6 forty-nine minutes later. This session was coming to an end, and the score was still in question.

  “LP-5 has launched, Master Rodoc,” the tech informed him.

  Rodoc came into the room, stepping through the open double doors from the wide balcony that wrapped the entire western face of his estate, overlooking the tranquil, azure sea. He looked over the tech’s shoulder at the large screen set on a table across from his desk. The monitor had a graphic representation of the transit zone for LP-5 within the system, three billion miles from Nuor. Rodoc was sending additional ships to LP-6, still holding out hope that he could capture the teleportation starship of the Humans.

  He would know better once he learned whether or not the Humans had made the LP-5 transit.

  The two Nuoreans stared at the screen in silence, knowing something wasn’t right.

  “Check the time again,” Rodoc ordered.

  “It is correct,” answered the tech. “And there is confirmation of the pulse taking place.”

  “So why are my ships still there?”

  Comms began to come through from various sources throughout the Nuorean system. The tech tried to correlate them for the Grand Master yet there were too many arriving at once.

  “What’s happening?” Rodoc asked with impatience and frustration.

  “The transit zone…it has shifted,” said the tech. “It is now near Lios, half a million miles from its last location.”

  “It shifted? How is that possible?”

  The LP-5 transit zone had never shifted, not since the complex had been completed forty cycles ago. It was a permanent presence in the system, the gateway to LP-6 and the Kac galaxy.

  “Who authorized the realignment of the generators?”

  “Reports are coming from the station. The computers wer
e taken over by an outside source…originating from LP-6.”

  Rodoc stepped back and bit his bottom lip in anger. Adam Cain. It had to be Adam Cain. Yet how had the alien acquired such ability? With each new revelation and every setback, it became apparent they had all underestimated the Human and his team. The invaders from the Kac had accomplished far too much against the obstacles placed before them. Even for a Jundac race, this was contrary to all the data the Nuoreans had on the Humans.

  “Master, the LP-6 command station—it is in the transit zone…the new transit zone!”

  “Clarify.”

  “The space station, it has been transported here.”

  The tech worked the controls and a live image of the new LP-5 transit zone appeared on the screen. There was a tiny white dot in the center, and as the Cadre One specialist manipulated his board, the image grew larger.

  It was indeed the LP-6 space station, resting one-and-a-half-million light-cycles from where it should be. Reports were also coming in that nineteen of the warships in the vicinity of the station had also been transported back to the Nuorean system. This was good. It would save Rodoc time sending units in to secure the station.

  Yet where were the Humans? The last information Rodoc received from LP-6 had the prototype vessel returning to the station after a brief run to the generators. Still, no bombs had been detected at the complex, so the purpose of the journey was unknown.

  Rodoc smiled as the truth came to him, and he sent a small nod toward the screen, an acknowledgement to Adam Cain.

  Realizing they couldn’t make the transit zone for LP-5 in time, Cain simply shifted it to the station. It was a brilliant move, and once more established the playing credentials of the Human. Although the move allowed him to transition back to the Suponac, he was still six thousand light-cycles from the LP-6 staging area, and with only forty-nine minutes to get there.

  Rodoc wondered if Cain had discovered his homeworld was the target of the next LP-6 gravity pulse? He couldn’t imagine how that would have been possible. Or has the Human surrendered his plan to return to the Kac? Maybe he was acknowledging his defeat and looking now for a place to hide within the Suponac? The questions were many, the answers few.