Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 2: The Apex Predator

by T. R. Harris

  The alien was still hovering over his station. “Don’t you have something better to do?” Riyad asked, looking up at the Tel’oran’s green, knobby face.

  Embarrassed, Ruszel returned to his seat and began to work the console. “Remain on this course for approximately fifteen minutes. You will see the convoy assembly area just outside the Crymous Moon. I will guide you to your position and then we will depart after another twenty minutes or so.”

  The planet Tel’or had three moons – one as large as Earth’s, while the other two were not much more than asteroids tethered to the planet through gravitational influence. The Crymous Moon – where the coordinates were leading him – was the major moon of Tel’or.

  “I tend to believe this ship could reach incredible velocities,” Ruszel tagged onto the end of his last statement. “And with the number of rings … that could make for….” He stopped and looked over at Riyad. “You can achieve full-well-integrity in a more concentrated space, thus allowing for journeys at speed within … even within stellar systems! Is this correct?”

  “Yeah, I can go really fast.”

  The alien Ruszel indeed knew his ships, and from just a moment’s observation of the pilot’s screen he had already deduced the major advantage the Ifrit had over more conventional starships. This alien seemed almost too bright, too inquisitive.

  As was his lot in life, Riyad began to formulate contingency plans within his devious, tactical mind … just in case both Ruszel, as well as the affable Canos, had to be eliminated….

  ********

  Canos had been correct about the size of the other merchant ships. Lined up as far as the eye could see were dozens of gigantic starships of nearly every make and model, all preparing for the guided tour of the Juddle – Silvean – Nebula.

  “Are all these outside traders or locals as well?” Riyad asked, in awe of the incredible mass of ships all crowded into this confined space.

  “These are all Outers,” Canos answered. “Guild members have less restricted travel rights.”

  “And this is a small convoy?”

  “Yes, most number in the hundreds when the circuit includes all forty-one Guild planets.”

  Riyad noticed Ruszel shoot a stern look at his young assistant. Holding the bribe over the heads of the aliens gave the Human unspoken leverage over the Tel’orans, even if they hadn’t realized it yet. Because of this, Riyad felt he could press them for more information than he could otherwise without the bribe.

  “Is Elision a member of the Guild?”

  Ruszel’s reaction spoke volumes; he was more amused by the comment than shocked, as Riyad expected. “Elision is a rumor, nothing more. Since the Kracori appeared in the Expansion, there have been dozens, in fact hundreds, of such inquires. Yet as a senior pilot within the Guild, I suspect I would know if Elision was located within the Nebula or not.”

  “Then why do you guard your nebula so closely? Your secrecy is what helps feed the rumors.”

  “Speak to the leaders about that,” Ruszel answered. “I know we guard our independence against the efforts of Outers to incorporate us into one group or another. Why this is so, I do not know? Now pay attention – the convoy is preparing for departure and there is a specific order that must be followed so as to not overlap wells. Your ship was the last to be added, so we will be the last to depart.”

  The aliens hunkered down over the nav console again as Riyad watched the scene outside through the main viewport. At first nothing happened, but then he noticed a distant dot representing the furthest starship within his view suddenly flare bright and disappear. Then the string of flares became brighter and ever-closer, as each ship in the line subsequently engaged a well and disappeared into its event horizon.

  “Prepare for a ninth-degree well,” Canos said. “Engage on my command.”

  The ships nearest the Ifrit continued to disappear until the space before him was empty.

  “Engage!”

  Riyad energized the generators, and soon the space before them was warped into the familiar circular swirl associated with faster-than-light travel. Within the event horizon of the continuous series of microscopic blackholes being created ahead of them, the effects of Relativity no longer applied. Movement was achieved through the warping of space/time around the singularities, so no energy was required on the part of the Ifrit to achieve faster-than-light speeds. In addition, the space on the opposite side of the singularities was also drawn in, thereby reducing the distances covered by a factor of a hundred or more. When the wells were dissolved, Riyad and the two aliens would find themselves nearly a light-year beyond their original point of entry, with only a few hours of real time having passed.

  ********

  As suspected, Ruszel wasn’t content to spend his time during the transit solely at the navigation console. He approached Riyad’s station again and scrutinized the readings. He pointed at a gauge to Riyad’s right. “Is that correct, your ship is operating at less than ten percent capacity?”

  “That’s what it says.”

  Ruszel opened his mouth to say something more, but then thought better of it. Riyad figured it would be another technical question, one that even if he could answer he probably wouldn’t.

  Eventually the Tel’oran did construct a comment. “This transit will take nineteen hours; however, I estimate your ship could do it in less than two.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “And the well is just beyond the ship….” He looked out the viewport and into the convoluted image of the universe beyond. Even if the singularity was within eyesight, it would still be invisible; after all, it was a blackhole. Yet Riyad felt the alien was in awe of being this close to one of the most-powerful and destructive forces in nature. It was now time to start pumping the pilot for more information….

  “Surely you have seen some of the most awesome sights in the galaxy since you live within a nebula. These are some of the most violent regions in space.”

  “That is why pilots are required; the gravity influences here are constantly changing. I have seen stars explode without warning and disrupt gravity planes over a wide area. You may think we are being secretive and protective; when it is mainly for your own protection that we insist on local pilots.”

  “And yet, before I came to your nebula, I checked the survey maps. There is a region of relative emptiness, even in such a concentration of stellar material.”

  “The Dysion Void,” Canos offered from the navigation console.

  “Is that what it’s called?”

  Ruszel nodded. “Yes, it is an anomaly, and one surrounded by the Dysion Shield.”

  “What’s that?”

  Ruszel spun an empty console seat next to Riyad’s station and sat down. Even as he spoke, he kept eyeing Riyad’s console, still enamored with the power and sophistication of the Ifrit. “In the distant past, a series of young stars went nova and cast a vast blanket of thick, radioactive dust throughout the region. It now completely surrounds the Dysion Void.”

  “And there’s nothing within this void … no stars, no planets?”

  “There are a few, from what can be detected, but nothing substantial or habitable.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Ruszel looked at Riyad and frowned, at least as much as his taut, knobby forehead would allow. “It is what the charts indicate. I have never been to the region; there has been no cause to journey there. Why do you ask? Is it about the Kracori again?”

  “No,” Riyad answered nonchalantly. “It’s just that your nebula is new to me, and I have never spent much time operating within one.”

  “Few have. Most merchants prefer the more open regions of space, areas not so full of dangerous passages. Yet they still come here because we pay the most for their goods and the technology.”

  “Ruszel, we are nearing the Krilous Spike. I need your assistance,” Canos called out,

  Ruszel nodded. “This is the first of many course corrections which will require my att
ention. The path gets treacherous from here on. Prepare for new coordinates, Riyad Tarazi.”

  “Just call me Riyad,” the Human said with a grin. “And if you’re nice, I may even let you pilot the Ifrit for a while.”

  The Tel’oran beamed with excitement. “I have not operated a vessel with eight focusing rings before. However, I would welcome the opportunity – if you are available as a second. The course we travel must be precise, and although piloting such a vessel would be the highlight of my career, I would not like to risk my life doing so.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to back you up.”

  Good, Riyad thought. Bond with this alien and then he might help with the other part of the plan I’m working on. A little quid pro quo, my skinny, green friend.

  Chapter 5

  Nigel McCarthy…

  Nigel McCarthy was lucky to be alive, yet he still wished he’d put more thought into the logistics of his return to Highland before launching in the tiny shuttle. Captain Mark Henderson, the former Army Ranger and member of Cain’s Crusaders, had taken the long-range shuttle from the Phoenix for his trip to Juir, leaving only a small planet-hopper for Nigel. Now the four-hundred light-year-long trip back to Highland had turned into a long and excruciatingly difficult ordeal.

  First of all, the journey required several stops for refueling, and finding the proper energy modules for the small shuttle had proved to be problematic. With his broken arm and cracked ribs – suffered during his failed attempt to kill Adam Cain and his team on Pyrum-3 – Nigel was in no condition to take anything by force. To overcome this limitation, he had drifted slowly through the vastness of interstellar space during the first long leg of the journey, conserving the ship’s energy and allowing his body time to heal before making his first planet-fall.

  Alien medical technology, even for Humans, was quite advanced, so the healing time for his injuries was reduced dramatically. Within two weeks of parting company with Henderson – and subsequent destruction of the Phoenix – his arm was functioning reasonably well and his ribs now allowed for a somewhat painful yet tolerable range-of-motion.

  His first landfall was on a small world twelve light-years from where the Phoenix was destroyed and he ended up killing three natives in order to steal the energy modules from a similar-sized shuttle. He had hoped to find a longer-range vessel on the planet, but that wasn’t in the cards, at least not at this stop.

  A month and two stops later, Nigel did find an available medium-range shuttle, even though the current owners didn’t know it was available for Nigel’s use. Although his escape was a little more spectacular than he wished, he was able to eventually shake his pursuers and head off into open space in his shiny new spacecraft.

  Now, over three months since his journey began, Nigel McCarthy was almost home; himself a living symbol of the legendary Phoenix, and about to rise from the ashes of the dead and live again. At least that’s the way he saw it.

  He was nearing the planet he called Highland, located four hundred thirty light-years from Juir and his current base of operations. Returning alone – without even his trusty second-in-command Carter Thomas alive to back him up – Nigel had decided not to contact his base to let his men know he was still alive. He knew he couldn’t trust any of his mercenaries. With his capture and reports of his subsequent death, his men would have already established a new chain of command, and until Nigel had a better idea of what was going on at the base, he would keep his return a surprise.

  He would land outside the base and make his way in through a secret access only he and Carter knew of. If he could reach the lab section of the base unseen he knew he had a very good chance of turning the tables on whatever coup may have occurred since he’d left.

  He realized he was being overly cautious, yet when you’ve spent much of your adult life betraying others around you, you tend to base much of your actions on your own sense of paranoia and distrust.

  This habit – of always expecting betrayal by others – had saved his life before … and it just might do it again.

  Chapter 6

  Riyad Tarazi…

  Ruszel was right. The remainder of the journey to Lucon-Por, the first planet in the trade circuit, did involve constant attention on the part of the pilot. Rather than simply setting a course and letting the ship guide itself, Riyad and Ruszel had to constantly steer the ship through ever-changing gravitational eddies, around debris fields and past intense radiation sources. Life within a nebula must be hell, Riyad thought, like living in a blender full of star stuff. If this was how it was throughout the entire region, then Riyad was glad to have the more-experienced alien pilots aboard.

  The tall, green Tel’oran took to the controls quickly – even though Riyad had to step in occasionally and take over – and by the time they reached Lucon-Por, Ruszel was becoming quite adept at operating the ship … and still bouncing with excitement at the opportunity to pilot the Ifrit.

  “I have made hundreds of transits before and I must admit I have never enjoyed one as much as this one. I only wish there had been an opportunity to pilot your ship under full power.”

  “Can we not deviate from the route, even under the command of a Guild pilot?”

  “Not as part of a Trade Convoy. That would be highly unusual.”

  “But not unheard of? Maybe further in you will get the opportunity.”

  “There are always emergencies, exceptions to the protocols, but my time here is at an end. Another pilot will take you further in.”

  “No shit?”

  Ruszel blinked his eyes rapidly. “Your sudden change of subject has me confused. Do you require relief of your bodily waste? Has something drastic occurred?”

  “No, sorry, it’s just an expression. It means I can’t believe what you’re saying. You won’t be guiding the rest of my tour? Why not?”

  “Yes, it is true. Since your addition to this convoy came at the last moment, I was called in temporarily to lead you through only this part of the circuit. Now a permanent pilot will be assigned.”

  “But I want you; can’t that be arranged?”

  The expression on the green alien’s face softened. “I am moved by your comment, Riyad, and I appreciate your trust in my abilities. Surely a pilot of your skill, and with a ship as advanced as yours, does not even require the presence of a Guild pilot, even though that is the law.”

  “I thought our financial transaction covered the entire transit. Now I’ll have to deal with another pilot.” Riyad’s mind was clicking through his options as quickly as possible. He couldn’t let these two get away.

  Ruszel seemed genuinely embarrassed at the mention of the bribe. “Yes … that was helpful, and I wish there was something I could do to make it right.”

  Canos perked up at Ruszel’s last comment. Until then he was only half-listening to the conversation on the bridge. The last thing the young Tel’oran wanted was to give back a portion of the bribe.

  Riyad smiled. “Well I have another proposal for you – you and Canos.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot listen to your proposal, Riyad,” Ruszel said, beginning to turn away, while actually raising his hands to partially cover his ears.

  “One hundred thousand ruiens – each.” Then thinking back to Ruszel’s division of the last credits to change hands, Riyad quickly amended his offer; “Or two hundred thousand ruiens to be divided as you see fit, Ruszel.”

  From his reaction, Ruszel heard Riyad’s offer, even with his ears covered. Meanwhile, Canos literally jumped out of his seat and ran to Ruszel’s side, staring up at his taller superior with wide eyes and an open mouth.

  Ruszel shook his head. “This would involve an illegal activity,” he stated, no question in his tone.

  “I don’t know if it’s illegal or not,” Riyad countered. “But I do know it will be dangerous.”

  “What is it? What do you want us to do” Canos asked, much to Ruszel’s chagrin.

  For an answer, Riyad turned to his console and typed
in a set of coordinates and set them to display prominently on the screen. Both aliens leaned in closer, studying the numbers with intense concentration.

  “That is in the Gainis quadrant….” Canos spoke aloud.

  Ruszel nodded. “Yes … and bordering Jylen.”

  “The Dysion Void!” Canos stood back, a look of fear on his face.

  The Tel’oran pilot looked directly at Riyad, a cold, emotionless expression on his face. “You are looking for the Kracori, are you not, and you believe them to be within the Void?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “Who are you in reality, Riyad Tarazi? You come into the Nebula posing as a merchant trader, and yet you carry barely enough merchandise for one world, let alone dozens. And you apparently have not followed protocol in securing passage with the Convoy, joining at the last moment. My suspicions are many, yet foremost is that you are a spy of some sort, possibly of the Expansion.”

  “Two hundred thousand ruiens should be your only concern at this point,” Riyad said as he slowly rose from his seat to stand directly in front of the much taller Tel’oran. “That’s a lifetime’s worth of income for a typical Tel’oran.”

  “It is not illegal for us to go to the Void,” Canos quickly added, still looking at Ruszel.

  “But it is illegal for us to leave the convoy with an Outer.”

  “Not if we declare an emergency.”

  Ruszel continued to stare into Riyad’s eyes for a moment longer before slowly turning his attention to his agitated subordinate. “And what emergency would you propose?” It was a rhetorical question on Ruszel’s part … but not to his young assistant.

  “I could be called back to Tel’or for a blood-line emergency. We could inform the Guild that this merchant has already been depleted of his inventory, and so his ship would be available for the return transit. It is unusual, but not extraordinary.”