by T. R. Harris
Adam leaned back in the chair, exhausted, pissed off and confused. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. What should have been the greatest adventure for all of mankind was rapidly turning into a freaking nightmare. If no one knew where he came from—and he could never return home—then he might as well be dead. After all, in the eyes of the military, as well as those of his wife and young daughter, he already was.
As he sat there with his eyes closed, in a room with two very smelly aliens, Adam had to once again fight to maintain control. He was supposed to know how to handle difficult situations like these, but the rollercoaster of emotions he was experiencing wouldn’t stop. Never in the training manuals did they cover how to cope with being abducted by aliens!
Suddenly he felt a wave of hopelessness sweep over him. Maybe he should let Kaylor pull out his weapon and blow his brains out. It really didn’t matter anymore and at least then all the pain and confusion would go away. It would end his nightmare, as well as all the memories.
But Kaylor didn’t draw his weapon. Instead he motioned for Jym to follow and the two aliens left Adam alone in the common room, lost in his thoughts and despair.
********
Once back in the pilothouse, Jym spoke first. “That was close; we can never let him know about the computer core.”
“Agreed, but I believe we could use his testimony regarding the pirates and the salvage. But we have to be careful with him.”
Jym’s ears were flicking wildly. “Agreed – that thing is dangerous,” he said, as he paced the room. “We need to get rid of him as soon as possible. And can you believe that he wants us to shuttle him back to some unknown planet in the Far Arm! That is crazy. Does he think we’re made of credits? I don’t know how it is on his world, but everything has a price in the real galaxy.”
Kaylor let him vent; it was just his way.
“Put him in number three and make him comfortable. We’ll be at Nimor in about twenty hours. After that, he will be someone else’s problem.”
Chapter 7
In a daze, Adam allowed himself to be led to a room with a small bed and a desk set into a wall. The chair for the desk was affixed to the floor and on the desktop sat a small monitor. Adam chose to sit on the end of the bed rather than at the desk. Jym handed him a blue tunic and a pair of slip-on shoes, similar to what Kaylor wore.
“I’ll bring you some food in a while,” Jym said. “Until then, please attempt to rest.” He then pointed out a small control panel near the door. “If you need more or less gravity to make yourself comfortable, you can do it from here.”
This comment snapped Adam out of his stupor. “You can adjust gravity?”
“Of course.” Jym had to fight back the urge to add another comment about Adam’s primitive pedigree, but instead he simply said, “There are five individual wells which control the ship’s internal gravity. You appear to come from a heavy-gravity world, so you may want to adjust it up a little. We’ll be on Nimor in about twenty hours.” The tiny alien then abruptly turned and left the room.
Adam looked around at his surroundings; again familiar, yet strange. His mind knew he was so far away from anything native to him that it was unimaginable, and yet here he was, alive, in relatively good condition and in the company of two very real aliens who didn’t appear to be a threat to him. Yet all of this didn’t help his overall situation or his mood.
He stood up and went over to the control panel by the door; he touched it and the panel lit up. There was a digital scale with a cursor – again familiar – and when he moved the cursor up, he immediately felt as if a weight was pressing down on his body. The sensation quickly passed, so he moved the cursor up a little more, with the same effect. One more adjustment and he felt as if his weight was maybe a little heavier than what he was used to. Since there was nothing to compare it to he went simply by feel.
It suddenly occurred to him that maintaining his strength advantage in these alien surroundings would be very important. He already knew he was much stronger than these two aliens, and that if he didn’t keep that advantage it could spell trouble. Not being familiar with their technology or customs it may be the only thing that he had going for him. So he cranked the cursor up even more and felt the corresponding pressure on his body.
He returned to the bed and fell back on the soft cushion, resting his head on the pillow he propped against the bulkhead. As he lay there, Adam began to take inventory of his predicament. The first thing he had to do was get his mind around the reality of his situation. As much as the physical, his mental condition would also play a major role in determining if he survived or not.
He chuckled; just moments before he didn’t give a damn whether he lived or died. Now he was thinking about how to survive. The Human spirit was indeed resilient….
********
Adam Cain was a 26-year-old E-5 in the US Navy and a member of the elite DEVGRU group, which most of the Team and media still referred to as SEAL Team Six. In his SMU – or Special Mission Unit – he was classified as a sniper and weapons expert, even though nearly everyone in his unit carried the same designation. He was on his fourth excursion in-country, this time on a recon of the rugged mountain area between Afghanistan and Pakistan known as the Hindu Kush, following a lead on a Taliban commander who had taken credit for a recent bombing of the US Embassy in Kabul … when his reality had been suddenly jerked out from under him.
Adam’s future in the Navy was looking bright. He had just completed his advanced sniper instructor training, and had also taken the First Class exam the month before. He felt confident that he would make E-6, since SEALs were a pretty dedicated group of sailors and he was no exception to that rule. If he made E-6, then there was a good chance he could come back to Dam Neck as an instructor and thereby reducing the number of his overseas operations.
Seven months ago, he and Maria had bought their first home, located in a quiet cul-de-sac off Lynnhaven Parkway in Virginia Beach, Virginia. It was a small three bedroom, two bath brick home, with a one-car attached garage. More than anything else, Adam had bought the home for the garage, where he kept his mint-condition 2006 Mustang GT under a blue canvas tarp.
His daughter Cassie had just turned two, and every time Adam left on a mission, he felt guilty having to leave Maria on her own, what with the new house and the terrible-two’s all at the same time. But if he made First Class, he could apply as an instructor and that would guarantee him at least three years in Hampton Roads. And with the war winding down, it could possibly be even longer.
Adam’s father had been career Navy as well, and he was extremely proud of his only son. David Cain lived in Northern California—Monterey to be precise—and he and his son exchanged emails nearly every day, at least when Adam wasn’t off on a mission somewhere or in advanced training.
The thought of his father sent a spasm of pain through Adam’s heart. By now his dad would have also accepted the fact that his son was dead, more than likely taken captive and tortured to death by the Taliban. Since Adam knew his body would never be recovered – and no publicity extracted from his capture – that would be the only assumption most people could make. After all, his Teammates would never have left his body on the battlefield … if there had been a body to recover.
In addition to his immediate family, Adam enjoyed a large circle of friends and other more-distant relatives, who by now would all be mourning his death. Most of them knew what he did for a living, and in reality, the odds of being violently killed were much higher living in Chicago these days than it was spending time in a combat zone. However, death was always a possibility, even though most of his people chose not to dwell on it.
Damn! His future was—or had been—pretty set. Adam had always been a man of ambition and purpose, but his goals had never been to travel into space and meet aliens, at least outside of his childhood fantasies. Now – in a matter of what seemed like hours to him – his entire life had turned inside out. All his friends and loved ones were sufferin
g from his supposed death, and yet here he was, very much alive but unable to prove it to anyone.
Lying on the bed aboard the alien spacecraft, assessing his situation, Adam Cain needed a plan. It was obvious he could easily overpower the two aliens and commandeer their spaceship, but then what? He didn’t know how to fly it, and more importantly, he didn’t have any idea where to go if he did. Space, after all, was a pretty big place, so that course of action was out of the question.
Also, Adam had gotten the impression that the alien Kaylor didn’t feel too confident that the creatures on the planet they were heading for could actually help him; his statement to that affect sounded more like a way of pacifying Adam’s anger rather than any real possibility.
Adam felt the blood drain from his head as he struggled against the onset of yet another anxiety attack. He had been trained to overcome and survive the most harrowing of situations—but this was ridiculous! How was one supposed to prepare for something like this?
Returning back to Earth was now his only priority, but this was a lot different than trying to make it back to friendly forces after having been separated from your Teammates during a mission. He was light years away from his home, his family thought he was dead … and—well damn, his prospects weren’t looking very good!
As an alternative, Adam could just give up and hasten the inevitable. Or … he could learn to survive in this alien environment and bide his time until a solution could be found.
Adam closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, he felt a strange wave of relief flow over him.
In reality, it doesn’t matter what I do. I can either live or die; after all, what do I have to live for? Everyone I know thinks I’m dead already, and I’m in a universe where I’m the alien! The only thing that matters now is getting home, and if I can’t do that, then who cares what happens to me? I’m like the walking dead….
Adam suddenly realized that not caring—really not caring—about what happens to you can be a very liberating experience. And unfortunately for those around him, if he didn’t care what happens to himself, he cared even less for anyone—or anything—he encountered along the way.
Chapter 8
Riyad entered the communication room where an underling was preparing the link. He sat down before the large monitor and nodded to the tech. An image appeared on the screen; it was the interior command room of Captain Angar’s ship. Angar was facing him, but talking with someone off screen. As soon as he noticed the link had been established, he straightened up and gave his full attention to Riyad.
“General Riyad, sir, we have a solid link.”
Riyad loved the title of ‘General.’ Out of all the possibilities available, he had chosen this one for himself, and it sent a thrill drown his spine nearly every time he heard it. Yes, he knew he commanded a fleet of pirate ships, not land forces, but he was the only one who seemed to notice the inconsistency. However, looking at his subordinate on the screen, the thrill quickly passed, and he sent a steely stare at his senior captain.
“So what happened? I understand you had the ship completely under your control but then you gave it up.”
Angar shifted nervously in his chair at the directness of the question, but then quickly regained his composure. “In my defense, I was the last one to bolt out. There was nothing I could do by myself, not against a fleet of Rigorian warships.”
“And yet it ended up not being a fleet at all.”
“That is correct, my General. It was a deception. But we had no way of knowing that at the time.”
Riyad took a deep breath. “But Captain, you know, as well as I, that the Rigorians are not that aggressive against us. Also, we have never encountered them that far out in The Void.”
“Again correct, my General. But when Jiden and Meldeon left, I had no choice but to follow.”
“The two of them will be dealt with.” Riyad stated acidly. “So where is the ship now?”
Angar glanced to his right, and then turned back to Riyad. “They are just now entering the Nimorian system. They should be making planet-fall in about six hours. We could attempt to catch up to them, but we will not be successful.”
“Please tell me you were at least able to secure some treasure before you gave up the ship?”
Again, Angar shifted in his seat. “Unfortunately, no. There wasn’t time, and the only cargo we could readily see appeared to be a room full of primes placed in stasis.”
Even through his anger, this news piqued Riyad’s curiosity. “Was this a slave ship?”
“Hard to tell, General. The primes were all in good condition and contained in very sophisticated hiberpods. There were around seventy to eighty of them in the room.” Angar hesitated before continuing. “And they had all been recently killed by the ship’s crew.”
Riyad was taken aback by the last comment. “Killed, all of them? Why?”
“Impossible to tell. But it appeared they had been killed at about the same time we were assaulting the ship.”
“What species were they?”
Angar seemed to grow even more nervous; Riyad noticed the body language. “What is it, Captain? What’s the problem?”
“Well, my General,” Angar began hesitantly, “they appear to be of the same race as you.”
Riyad was sure Angar saw the look of total shock sweep over his face, and even though his mind was exploding with a thousand questions, he knew it was important to maintain his composure in front of his underlings.
“Can you confirm this information, Captain?” he managed to say, hoping that the timbre of his voice didn’t give away his excitement.
“I saw them with my own eyes. I have no doubt. You are the only other one of your species I have ever seen … until today.”
Riyad remained silent for a long moment, digesting the information. He had always suspected that this day would come. Now this changes everything.
“Captain Angar, I have new instructions for you,” Riyad began evenly. “By my orders, you will have Captains Meldeon and Jiden return to K’ly. Then you will proceed to Nimor, and secure that ship’s computer core and bring it to me immediately.”
Angar looked stunned. “But General, the ship will be locked down until the salvage is settled.”
“Do you think I care about that? We’re pirates, after all; we don’t go by the rules, Captain. Contact our allies in the Ministry. I want to know everything about that ship and where it came from. And Captain Angar,” Riyad leaned in closer to the screen, “no one else is to get that computer core except us – no one. Don’t screw this up again.” And then he cut the link.
Riyad rushed out of the comm room and proceeded quickly to the forward section of his ship. As he neared his quarters, he felt the welcoming increase in gravity, a consequence that kept most of his crew out of his private sanctuary.
He entered his quarters and shut the door. Too excited to sit, Riyad began to pace the room, nervously.
Humans – and lots of them!
He had not seen another Human, for how long now? Six years, maybe longer? And here was a ship carrying dozens of his kin. Granted, Riyad had been more than a little surprised to hear that they had all been killed, but once he thought about it, it made perfect sense.
The aliens must know of our abilities.
This could also be the reason they were transporting the Humans in stasis. After all, look what Riyad had done with the Fringe Pirates – and he was just one Human. Imagine how hard it would be to transport dozens of conscious Humans aboard one ship. Yes, these aliens definitely knew the capabilities of the Human race … and they had taken the only sensible course of action.
But the question had to be asked: What were they doing with that many Humans aboard their ship? And where were they taking them?
Mentally, Riyad shrugged off the questions. He was only obliquely interested in the answer, as just a curiosity. What he really wanted to know was how did they know the location of Earth in the first pla
ce?
Within the computer core of that ship would be the Holy Grail of his existence for the past six years – the coordinates to his homeworld!
And quite possibly, the realization of a dream he had been cultivating for a very long time….
********
Riyad Tarazi had challenged the ship’s captain for his position after having been a crewmember for only three months, but that been time enough for him to learn the operation of the ship, as well as the pirate hierarchy aboard.
The captain was a Fil-nipon – not even a native of The Fringe – but he was tough and strong and had been part of the pirate community for almost twenty years. It had been a duel, and by this time Riyad had no doubt as to the outcome. The captain’s weapon had not even cleared its holster by the time Riyad had placed a level-one bolt through the creature’s chest.
And now, according to pirate law, Riyad Tarazi was the Captain.
Nine months later, Riyad’s next challenge was for the supreme command of the pirate organization. Those nine months had given him time to study how the pirates operated, and how their rag-tag operations could be greatly improved – under the right leadership, of course. At that time, the Fringe Pirates were just a loose-knit group of privateers, with no real purpose other than their own individual gain. They didn’t operate as a unit – and considering their numbers – if they did they would be a force greater than that of any single planetary military this side of the Juireans. Riyad figured they would do much better under his leadership … and only the senior captain stood in his way.
The pirate leader was a Rigorian named Kymore and he had already heard of Riyad’s prowess with a bolt weapon. So when he accepted the challenge he did so with one condition – it was to be a physical contest and not one with weapons. Riyad had accepted his terms without a second thought.
Rigorians were the toughest, strongest and meanest natives of the Fringe, giant lizard-like creatures, with scales for skin and double rows of razor-sharp teeth lining a protruding, foot-long snout. In all the history of the Fringe, no other being had ever bested a Rigorian in hand-to-hand combat, so as the day of the contest neared the Rigorian captain was feeling very confident about his chances.
