Invasion Force (The Human Chronicles Saga Book 21)

by T. R. Harris

  “The radiation would dissipate over time,” Kaylor countered. “And having to avoid a number of restricted areas within a system for few years is better than the alternative.”

  The screen now showed the second Klin vessel entering from the opposite direction and its subsequent unloading of millions of deadly robots on the planet Tactoria.

  “We just need to form a screen around the target planet to cover all approaches,” Riyad said. “Move the defensive line in closer. That should do it.”

  Adam leaned back in his chair as all eyes turned to him. “I’ve been looking at this from all sides and here are my conclusions. First, there are eight thousand worlds in the Expansion, plus about fifty in the Union. We would have to arm each of them with a stockpile of nuclear weapons—devices that are archaic and rare—even on Earth. And the strategy doesn’t destroy the Klin ships. It only forces them to leave the system. The Klin could simply lay off for a while and come back in, over and over again, until the weapons are depleted. And secondly, can you imagine what could go wrong with eight thousand species all armed to the teeth with nuclear bombs? It ain’t pretty.”

  “That’s true,” Sherri said. “But you’re wrong about having to arm every civilized planet in the galaxy. The Klin have been following a very precise plan of attack. They’ve been predicable to a fault.”

  Adam smiled and changed the image on the screen, replacing it was an overview of a quarter of the galaxy. A highlighted section displayed red contacts with connecting lines.

  “You’re right, Sherri, they have. And that could be their Achilles Heel.”

  “Forgive me, Adam…their what?” Arieel asked.

  “Their weak point. Observe.” The imaged morphed into a flyby of the region under attack by the Klin. There was a wide area where the recent battles were taking place, and then a tapering until the battle points disappeared. At first the area of devastation appeared to be an expanding triangle, until the perspective changed to show it to be a cone. And like every cone, it had a point of origin.

  “Like I said, a precise game plan.” Like all the others around the table, Sherri could see where the conversation was headed. “And with a specific starting point.”

  “Exactly,” Adam agreed. “We have a choice of either stopping the Klin’s machines, or stopping the Klin themselves. There’s a base of operations somewhere, and the obvious place is right here.” He highlighted the tip of the cone with a marker. “It’s estimated that only about two hundred thousand Klin exist. Our efforts should be focused on finding and eliminating them. If we can do that, the threat simply fades away.”

  “Unless their machines are programmed to go on without them,” Kaylor pointed out.

  “Without the Klin riding shotgun over their production facilities, their robots and spaceships will stop being built.” Adam waited for one of the aliens to comment on the word shotgun, but none did. His message was clear.

  Copernicus shook his head. “You know, the one thing that’s always bothered me about the Klin’s attack strategy; why haven’t they gone directly to the main planets and wiped them out? Their stealth starships can approach any system undetected, and so far—until now—there’s been no way to stop them. They could have gone to Juir, Formil—even Earth—and that would have been ninety percent of the war right there.”

  “According to that Klin bastard we met aboard the black ship when we were captured, his people are at war with the entire galaxy, all the races that turned their backs on the Klin over the thousands of years they’ve been in exile,” Adam said. “But your concern has been mine, too, Coop. If we do manage to ward off a few attacks, the Klin may decide to go for the jugular. At the moment, they’re punishing the leaders of the galaxy with their rather systematic annihilation of the Expansion. We’re fortunate their starting point is on the opposite side of the galaxy from Earth. At their current pace, it could be a hundred years before they reach the Union…unless they change strategy.”

  Riyad looked at Adam. “What you’re saying is that if we start using the nuclear option to deny the Klin access to the worlds in their direct path, they may change strategy and start hitting planets willy-nilly?”

  Even in his rotten mood, Adam had to smile at the reactions from the three aliens to the word willy-nilly. They desperately wanted to ask for an explanation; instead they relied on logic to decipher the meaning, hoping it was right.

  “The thing I’ve come to realize about the whole Klin affair,” Adam began, “is their plans are fluid and amendable. They’ve had the upper hand in every engagement. Even at Tactoria—when nukes were used—they showed up with a second ship, as if they anticipated the response. They had to know we’d use nukes eventually, and they had a counter-response already in motion.”

  Sherri pointed at the monitor. “So the obvious point of origin could be a deception, simply because it’s so obvious.”

  Adam nodded. “Anyone with a computer can plot the attack progression and follow it to the starting point. The Klin have to know this.”

  “So why make it so obvious?” Arieel asked.

  “So we’ll step into the trap,” Riyad answered.

  “We?” Arieel asked. “How could they have anticipated it would be this team that would propose the plan to seek out the living Klin?”

  “It wasn’t necessarily meant for us, just whatever force was sent to track down the Klin.”

  “But it will be us, is this correct?” Jym asked, his voice trembling.

  “Naturally,” Adam said with a smile. “They sent the invitation. Who are we to refuse?”

  “Did you not just say it is a trap?” Arieel questioned.

  “Yeah, but we’ll know it’s a trap,” Copernicus said, warming up to the plan. “That will give us a chance to turn the tables on the silver-skinned bastards,”

  “Turn the tables? How does rearranging furniture serve our purpose?”

  Arieel was sitting to Adam’s left. He reached out and grasped her soft, warm hand. “Your beauty and innocent charm is intoxicating, my dear.” Then he turned serious. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to remain here while the rest of us go off to dance with the Klin?”

  Arieel jerked her hand from his and pushed away from the table. “Of course not! I do not run in fear from a challenge. And I am a gift-carrier. In fact I am the most-proficient user of the device. You would be at a disadvantage without me.”

  “Let her come along,” Sherri said, smiling. “I could use some female company to offset the testosterone rampant in this room—including whatever hormones Jym and Kaylor have running through their bodies.”

  “It was never in doubt,” Adam said, his mood improved considerably now that he had mission…and a group of friends to share it with.

  3

  Next, Adam had to brief the bigwigs on his plan.

  The Expansion—indeed the entire galaxy, including the Orion-Cygnus Union—was now governed by a Council of Advisors comprised of representatives from the thirteen major worlds. After Adam’s daughter Lila was kidnapped by the ancient Aris race, a leadership void was created, and a void that had to be filled quickly to resist the Nuorean invasion that started the same day Lila was taken.

  Although the Juireans had begun the process of slowly repatriating Expansion leadership back to Juir, they were content to leave most of the infrastructure and responsibility to the Formilians as the galaxy faced the new threat posed by the Klin. If the defense failed, they could blame it on Arieel and her people and their lack of experience. If they succeeded, they could say it was because of the substantial support the Juireans gave the upstart leaders of the Expansion. Either way, it was politics as usual.

  The Council met in a large conference room four stories above the team’s level in the O’lac Building. It was the fact they were so close that upset Adam the most, when his request for a meeting didn’t get scheduled until two days later, and with an allocated time of only fifteen minutes for him to present his plan. He didn’t have the time to
waste.

  Adam had already submitted a data brief outlining his observations with the Tactorians. He also included a rough draft of his intentions to seek out the remaining Klin population. But two days? It was as if they weren’t taking his proposal seriously.

  When the day and time arrived, Adam was seated at the focus of the horseshoe-shaped table—the hot-seat the Humans called it. He was by himself, with none of his team for support.

  The Council members filed in slowly. Very few acknowledged Adam’s presence, even as they spent considerable time talking amongst themselves, even laughing on occasion. All the while, the galaxy was being overrun by killer Klin….

  Eventually, Adam made eye contact with the Human representative on the Council, the Honorable Ashton Hill. He nodded at Adam with casual nonchalance, his eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.

  The Formilian First Corusant—an alien called U’lac Vison—called the meeting to order.

  “Welcome Adam Cain,” he said without looking at the Human. “I understand you wish to make a brief presentation to the Council.”

  Adam was taken aback by the apparent lack of seriousness to his proposal.

  “It is more than a presentation, First Corusant. It is a plan ultimately designed to eliminate the Klin as a threat to the galaxy. And I must say I’m a little disappointed at the apparent lack of urgency on the part of the Council. If I’m not mistaken, the Klin are still gobbling up Expansion planets at an alarming rate across an ever-widening arc of the galaxy.”

  U’lac frowned, his golden bronze skin and piercing blue eyes betraying his age of one-hundred ten Earth years. He didn’t look a day over fifty.

  “I take exception to your criticism. We on the Council are very much engaged in the conflict with the Klin. And to that end, we have reviewed your proposal and find it lacking in certain respects.”

  “Lacking? In what way?”

  “You request permission to seek out the Klin, after which a concerted military operation is to be launched to eradicate the threat.”

  “That’s right,” Adam said. “The Klin only number a couple hundred thousand. The combined might of the galaxy will have no problem taking them out for good. No more Klin, now or forever.”

  U’lac reviewed a data screen placed in the tabletop in front of him. “Yet your proposal is in conflict. You state that there is a possibility the Klin may change strategy if provoked, including our use of nuclear weapons to deter their approach to target worlds. Although we have welcomed the news about the deterrent nature of these weapons, we have decided to use this approach exclusive for the protection of the thirteen worlds of the Advisory Council. The psychological impact of losing these systems would have a catastrophic effect on the rest of the galaxy. They must be protected. Yet this approach would only take affect if the Klin decide to attack select worlds, rather than the methodical nature of their current offensive. To that end we will not be using the option in defense of other systems.”

  “You won’t arm the other worlds of the Expansion?”

  “In your report, you said the use of such weapons on a wider scale could entice the Klin to change their plans.”

  “Yeah, but to not even try….”

  “Our strategists have come up with alternatives which we feel are a more sensible answer to the Klin situation. Would you care to hear them?”

  Adam blinked several times. “Like duh…of course I would.”

  “Endender Das, would you care to take over the briefing?” U’lac asked another creature at the table.

  Das was a Criminean, a squat creature with grey skin covered in a light coating of fine fur. He was dressed in a green-colored robe that exposed his thick arms. Adam didn’t know much more about him or his kind, except that they controlled an eight-hundred-world federation within the Expansion.

  “Yes, U’lac, I would welcome the opportunity.” The alien locked eyes with Adam. “We have made two conclusions. One, with the current progression of the Klin’s invasion and the thousands of worlds within the Expansion, it will take nearly twenty standard years for them to reach the first of the Council systems—including Formil. It is believed that during this interval, other options may present themselves. Among those options: The Klin may lose interest in the invasion and decide to accept their conquests as the basis for a galactic empire designed to satisfy their need for leadership and dominance. The other: During this twenty-year interval, our scientists will find an answer to the Klin’s invasion ships. Even now, thousands of the best minds in the galaxy are working on the problem.

  “The next conclusion involves a more proactive response to the invasion. When we consider that the black ships of the Klin do not pose a direct threat unless fired upon, we only deem them to be delivery vessels for the real threat we face—the autonomous mechanized devices they carry.” The alien looked along the table at the faces of the other Council members. There were several nods or other gestures acknowledging agreement.

  “If needed, we are proposing concerted military action against the worlds producing these mechanized devices.”

  “You propose attacking the manufacturing worlds?” Adam gasped. “They’re members of the Expansion.”

  “We no longer consider them as such. They have joined forces with the enemy.”

  “They had no choice.”

  “That matters not. They are now an integral part of the Klin invasion plan. If the means of producing these machines can be eliminated, then the rest of the galaxy will be safe.”

  “But you’d kill billions of innocent beings. These planets had no choice but to surrender and do the bidding of the Klin.”

  “Yet you further detail in your report that the Klin may eventually exterminate these races after their factories become fully functional and self-sustaining,” countered the Criminean. “If that is correct, then these species are already scheduled for extinction. There will be no effective loss by employing our strategy. And with no machines to invade member worlds, the threat vanishes.”

  “There’s an easier and less costly way,” Adam exclaimed. “Simply wipe out the remaining Klin. Then the threat goes away forever. Do you think if we stop the production of their robots that they won’t come up with another way to attack us? It’s what these bastards do. And I was told personally by one of them that they’re at war with the entire galaxy. They’re also patient sons-of-bitches. We may stop this invasion, but they’ll be back. They always come back. Unless we wipe them out at the source.”

  The Council members looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement.

  U’lac, the Formilian, spoke next.

  “We have details of your proposal in our files. We will ask that you wait as we make our decision.”

  Adam remained seated. That was it? They didn’t want more details about his plan?

  “Please step outside the meeting room,” U’lac coaxed.

  Adam waited a few seconds longer before pushing back from the table and standing up. He glared at the aliens around the table—even at the Human who had remained silent throughout the brief debate. Then he stalked away and into the lobby outside the conference room.

  Adam began to pace, not only out of frustration, but also confusion. Would the decision come soon, or in days? Should he wait here, or return to his room?

  And another thing: It had been years since he’d been treated so rudely, so dismissively; however, thinking back, Adam realized that wasn’t true. It had happened several times before, and under similar circumstances. It seemed that no matter how many times you save the galaxy, the politicians in charge only think about the next election and what it will take to keep them in power. The Council wasn’t thinking long-term. Accepting that it will be twenty years before any of their homeworlds are threatened, they didn’t want to risk upsetting the Klin’s current timetable. In twenty years, all of the Council members would be gone and the Klin would be someone else’s problem. Yet with the omnipresent threat hanging over the galaxy, these thirteen beings could r
ule the galaxy for years, citing the welfare of the masses as justification for their actions.

  The door to the conference room opened and Ashton Hill walked out. Adam raced up to him.

  “What the hell was that all about?” he barked at the other Human. “Why didn’t you speak up? Are you going to let them exterminate billions of creatures, or worse, just sit on their hands while the Klin conquer thousands of worlds?”

  “It’s not as simple as that, Mr. Cain.”

  “Bullshit. It is that simple. They’re giving in to the Klin just to protect their precious positions, yours included.”

  Hill’s dark eyes bore into Adam’s. “Fuck you, Cain! You think just because you’re famous you can do what you damn well please. You’re wrong. You’ve spent years following your own lead without regard to anyone else. Yeah, you’ve gotten lucky a few times, but people like me and the other members of the Council have more responsibility than you can possibly imagine. We make decisions based on everyone’s welfare, not just a select few.”

  “Like selfishly saving your own worlds while letting the rest of the galaxy fall to the Klin?”

  “That’s not going to happen. As we see it, we have time for a more nuanced response to the Klin. There’s no need to rush into something that could piss off the Klin.”

  “The Klin are our enemy; they’re already pissed off at us, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “And we want to make sure they don’t get even more pissed off,” Hill yelled.

  “So what am I supposed to do now, while you and your spineless wonders work on your nuanced response?”

  Hill’s face turned an even darker shade of red.

  “For your information, hotshot, we’ve approved your mission—but to a point. You’re to find the Klin, but do not engage. I repeat: Do not engage.”

  “And if we’re attacked?”

  “Then run as fast as you can. The Juireans have agreed to let you keep the ET vessel. That should help.”