by T. R. Harris
The Klin had begun to turn from his monitor, assuming the Tel’oran would comply without question. Now he locked his gaze on Ruszel once again. “The Guild has no authority here.” The silver alien was handed a datapad. After scanning it briefly he looked back at the pilot. “Your vessel has an odd signature. It is very unique … and well in advance of what the Guild is capable of constructing. Where did you acquire such a vessel?”
Riyad saw Ruszel grow pale as his mind struggled to find an explanation. He began to stammer. “I traded for it … during a prior trade circuit … from a being who originated outside of the Nebula. I do not know the origin of the vessel.”
“I find your story highly implausible. A vessel such as yours would be worth a major fortune within the Nebula. It must have been an incredible trade you negotiated.”
“It was a fortuitous event, yet the seller was desperate for ruiens at the time. My family is of high status and helped with the fee.”
Riyad smiled; Ruszel definitely had a talent for improvisation. He was impressed.
“What is your trade route?”
“We do not have a set route. There are no accurate surveys of the Void to go by.”
“So you intend to wander aimlessly about looking for populated planets, with no knowledge of their technology level, language, customs or experience with off-worlders? That seems like a rather disorganized plan for a Guild pilot.”
“We do not wish to have any trouble with you,” Ruszel said, his voice on the edge of pleading. “I am not familiar with your race and I realize that the technological level of your colony is far superior to anything I have ever seen. We simply seek a trade advantage within a territory which has not been fully explored. May we pass?”
“Our colony – as you call it – is not indigenous to this region. We will be moving on soon. You may pass, yet not before you delete any reference to this encounter and not mention it in any reports. If I believe you will not comply, then we will board your ship and do it ourselves.”
“We will comply, you can be assured! We fear you and will do nothing to risk antagonizing you any further.”
“That is a very sensible approach, Ruszel Crin of the planet Tel’or. You should know we have an extensive information network operating within the Nebula. We can find you – and your bloodline – should we learn that you have deceived us.”
Riyad held his breath as he saw Ruszel hesitate before responding. He could literally watch the features on the alien’s face change as he worked through his internal decision. “I assure you we are simply on a trade mission.” Riyad began to breathe again.
“The dampening field will be removed. Proceed … and do not speak of this encounter – to anyone outside the Shield or within.”
“We will comply. Farewell, with our appreciation.” Ruszel quickly reached forward and cut the transmission. He collapsed in the chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his face with his hands.
“You did excellent, my friend,” Riyad said, patting the alien on the shoulder.
“Who are they?” Canos asked. “They exude power and intelligence.”
“They should, my young friend. That was a Klin.”
Canos’s mouth fell open, while Ruszel just shrugged off the startling revelation without reaction. So many other startling revelations had come his way over the past week; this was just one more.
Riyad was standing behind him when the alien twisted around in the chair and looked up at the Human. “I suppose it is too late to resign our affiliation with you, Riyad Tarazi? I do not know how much more of this I can take.”
Riyad smiled. “It’s all downhill from here, Senior Pilot. I should be wrapping up my mission within a day or so, after which the credits and ship will be yours – after you drop me off at a safe location, of course.”
“That moment cannot come soon enough. And if it is indeed a safe location where we leave you, Canos and I may elect to remain there ourselves – at least until what is to happen has passed.”
“That sounds like a plan. And if we can find a tavern along the way where the three of us can ride all this out, then the first round of drinks will be on me.”
Ruszel frowned. “You elect to bathe in intoxicants rather than consume them? I see now why Humans have the reputation you have. You are indeed a strange and confusing race.”
“No argument there, my friend.”
Chapter 30
When the dampening field dissolved, Riyad engaged the array and shot off in a deep-well – although he kept the energy level at a modest rate. He didn’t want to alert the Klin to the full capabilities of the Ifrit. The technologically-curious aliens may want to analyze the engines before releasing them, and that would be unfortunate. Once he was about a light-year from the Klin colony, he applied full power to the engines and sped off into the eerie emptiness of the Void.
The McCarthy Coordinates lay thirty-degrees to starboard and at a range of about nineteen light-years. Making a beeline for the suspected location of the Kracori homeworld probably wouldn’t be the smartest action to take, Riyad thought. So he would continue his current track, while trying to detect any fringe elements of the gray aliens, anything that could seal the deal concerning the accuracy of the coordinates.
But now Riyad had to consider the Klin as well. Finding them had come as a complete surprise. Riyad had intercepted the data concerning the Klin colony of gigantic space stations before Ruszel could delete it – yes, the alien fully intended on complying with the Klin’s directives. The data wasn’t very extensive, yet it did help Riyad build a scenario.
For centuries, the Juireans – and others within the Expansion – had speculated as to how the Klin had remained hidden from the galaxy for four thousand years. Only recently had the previous-believed-to-be-extinct aliens chosen to reveal themselves, yet the small, land-based colonies that had been discovered weren’t large enough to support an entire race of beings. The nine huge disks could theoretically house a population of ten to twenty-thousand each. Riyad found that mind-boggling. Ninety- to one hundred eighty thousand Klin; the thought was frightening.
During the seven years that the Humans had ruled the Expansion, they, too, had conducted their own extensive search for the elusive silver creatures, but to no avail. At the time, experts estimated that the entire population of the exiled aliens couldn’t be much more than a quarter-million, taking into consideration all the data that was available. If that estimate was accurate, then Riyad had just stumbled upon over half the population of the Klin race.
The case for the authenticity of the McCarthy Coordinates was almost sealed. Finding the Klin added another piece of critical evidence. And if the Humans came prepared, they could effectively kill two extremely dangerous birds with one massive stone.
But then something came to mind that the Klin had said: Do not speak of this encounter to anyone outside the Shield … or within!
Could it be possible that the Kracori were not aware of the Klin colony? In a way this made sense; the last he’d heard the Klin and Kracori were still enemies. So why were the Klin here?
Riyad shook his head. This was far above his pay grade – if he had a pay grade. He would give the search one more day before heading back to the Shield. He was already ninety-nine percent sure the coordinates were correct, and if the CW-array was working, Earth would already be informed. The presence of the Klin was just another riddle for the military geniuses back on his homeworld to solve.
On the main display screen in the pilothouse, Canos had placed a red dot representing the location of the McCarthy Coordinates. Riyad moved the dot to the center of the screen, and now the Ifrit was skirting along the left side of the dot, while he gradually adjusted the course to move them ever-closer to the center. To fulfill his mission, it wasn’t necessary for Riyad to view the planet directly, just the obvious traffic that should be surrounding the Kracori star system. And with sensors at max, it could be only a matter of minutes now before contact was made – if the coordinates
were accurate.
“I have faint gravity-signatures to our right,” Canos said, almost in a whisper. Riyad smiled. He and the two aliens shared the same feeling – as if they were sneaking up on a star system – so the whisper seemed appropriate, if unnecessary.
“Can you give me the course heading?” Riyad asked in a whisper of his own.
Canos went to answer, but then stopped abruptly and smiled. Soon the pilothouse was filled with Human and Tel’or laughter, and in the process, a hell of a lot of pent-up tension was released. Much of the laughter came not from humor, but from nerves. They were fast approaching the moment of truth, and if Riyad was correct, then it would like discovering the entrance to Hell … and with very few options for retreat.
********
As Riyad continued his slow spiral in toward the Kracori system, they began to detect more and more space traffic, even as far out as five light-years from the outer border.
This raised a potential issue for Riyad. With the sensors scanning to their maximum range, and with the sparse information the Guild had concerning the Void displayed on the screen before him, Riyad began to get the distinct feeling of having his ass hanging out for all to see. Nowhere on the screen were there other worlds detected, at least not on the circuitous route he was following. His strategy of taking an oblique path past Elision was now making the Ifrit stand out like a sore thumb.
Just then an extremely-intense gravity signature was detected off their port quarter and at the maximum range of the scanners. Riyad suspected it wasn’t one massive object, but rather a sizable grouping of transiting starships. And if he could detect them, then it was a sure bet they could detect him.
It was too late to turn away; that would only make any observer suspicious as to why he would be avoiding a squadron of Kracori spaceships. A challenge would soon arise. Riyad just hoped Ruszel was up to the task – again.
The distance between the Ifrit and the squadron of Kracori continued to shrink with no apparent change of course from either party. Things really got tense in the pilothouse when another group of contacts appeared behind them and following roughly the same course. The orientation of the two sets of boogies had the effect of squeezing the Ifrit in closer to the Elision system, closer than Riyad had wished to go. But he no choice; it was too late to cut and run, even in the Ifrit. Often angles of attack could overcome superior speed, and the Kracori now seemed to be everywhere.
“Ruszel,” Riyad said, causing the pale-green alien to nearly faint when the first word in over a half-an-hour was spoken in the pilothouse. Once the Tel’oran regained his composure, Riyad continued. “I think it would be best if we make the first contact. After all, we’re just innocent merchants, and they already know we’re here.”
“If you believe so; what should I say?”
“Play dumb. Say you are seeking new trading partners and that their system is not on the old Guild charts you have. Ask who they are and request a dialog to discuss future trade options.”
“What if they say yes, and invite us to Elision?”
“Trust me, they won’t. Instead they’ll warn us away, and then we’ll be free to bolt out of here without raising suspicion.”
‘We shall see.” The green alien turned to his console and sent out a general CW-link to any ships willing to join. Riyad once again assumed his position behind the pilot’s station, out of sight of the comm’s video camera.
Immediately a light flashed on the console indicating that a link was coming through, yet it was audio-only, not visual. That makes sense, Riyad thought. If these are Kracori, they certainly don’t want their faces plastered all over the ship’s monitors and recording devices.
Ruszel completed the link.
“Identify yourself.” The words blasted from the speakers.
“I am Senior Pilot Ruszel Crin of the Silvean Trade Guild. And with whom am I speaking?”
“Senior Pilot you are not to be in this region. You should be aware of this.”
“I know of no such restriction, Speaker. Although our charts are antiquated and incomplete, nowhere is the Dysion Void classified as restricted space. I’m sure I would have been aware if this was widely known.”
“What is your business here?”
“Trade, Speaker. We come seeking to expand our trading routes to areas not previously utilized. I am surprised – and pleased – to find such a large, untapped market flourishing within the Void. May I be placed in contact with your planetary trade representatives?”
“You are to return the way you came. We seek no new trading partners. Obey or we will take action to protect our security.”
“As you wish, Speaker; we are leaving now.” Ruszel abruptly cut the link and turned to Riyad with a wide grin. “We can leave now!”
Riyad didn’t share Ruszel’s enthusiasm, and even though the Tel’oran had done well once again, he wished he hadn’t ended the conversation so abruptly. A true trader would not have taken no for an answer, at least not initially. But Riyad was now extremely confident of the intelligence he’d gathered, and although he hadn’t journeyed to Elision itself, he now had a working knowledge of the Void, the Dysion Shield and the approach to the region itself. The Human fleet would have its work cut out for it, especially navigating the tumult of the Shield. But once inside, they should have plenty of operating room. Still it would have been nice to survey the Kracori planetary defenses first-hand….
Reluctantly, Riyad cranked the control stick over to his left and made a one-hundred-eighty degree loop. He would leave Kracori space, yet head for a different section of the Shield to make his exit from the Void. He wasn’t looking forward to encountering the Klin colony for a second time. He engaged a deep gravity-well and was comforted by the clear circle of white that appeared in the viewport. A quick nine-hour sprint and they’ll be through the Shield and in the safety of Guild space once again.
Chapter 31
“Eh, Riyad, something is happening outside.” Canos had his nose placed about three inches from his nav screen.
“What do you have?” asked Riyad, as he hurried from his station to stand behind Canos. It had been five hours since they’d left Kracori space, and prior to this they had been bolting through empty space without a soul around.
“Contacts … literally hundreds of them.”
“Where?” Ruszel shouted from his station.
“All around us … and closing!”
“Shit! What did we do wrong?” Riyad jumped back to his station. “Strap-in, we may have to make a run for it.”
Cano mirrored his screen to Riyad’s. Indeed, the entire space around them was now littered with intense gravity signatures, essentially forming a thin, white bubble around their location. Something tipped them off, and now the Kracori seemed bent on stopping them from reaching the Shield.
“There’s some sort of interference directly ahead, like we experienced with the others – the Klin,” Ruszel shouted from the comm station. “We are within it now.”
The gravity-well suddenly dissolved, sending them back into normal space and the limitations of Relativity. The Kracori had apparently changed their minds about letting them go, and with his CW-array blocked by the Shield, he had no way of relaying his findings to an anxious Earth before whatever was about to happen happened.
Riyad made a decision; he reached under the console of his station and withdrew a Smith & Wesson .45-caliber semi-automatic he kept hidden there. Canos saw him do it.
“I thought you said you carried no weapons onboard, especially not Human-style projectile weapons!”
“I keep this one around just for insurance.”
Both aliens stared at him with unblinking eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m going to do my best to save your lives.”
“You cannot fight off the Kracori with a single weapon,” Canos said, his youthful innocence showing through.
Riyad stood up; the aliens followed suit. “They’re going to board us,” he stated matter-of-factly. “A
nd when they do, they’ll find the two of you tied up in one of the staterooms.” He stepped up to the taller Tel’oran pilot. “Listen up; you’re going to have to follow this precisely. Tell them you were hired by me to help establish these new trade lines. You were paid an enormous amount of credits to do this. Show them the credits if you have to. You were not aware I was a Human until just now, at which time I tied you up and then tried to escape in the mini-pod I have in the landing bay.”
“They will not allow you to escape.”
“I know, but they may let the two of you go.” He placed a hand on the shoulder of the Tel’oran pilot. “You have done a remarkable job, Ruszel … you both have. Now I must ask you to do me a favor. Does your race understand the concept of a favor?”
“Yes, I understand. You need us to do a task for you without the possibility of reward.”
“Exactly, although I believe that with all I’ve given you so far – plus my ship – it would hardly be uncompensated. Are you familiar with the planet Formil, they’re the largest supplier of electronics to the galaxy?”
“Yes, Formilian technology is highly sought after in the Nebula. Why do you ask?”
“If you are able to return to Guild space, I need you to contact the Formilian Speaker, a female named Arieel Bol. It will not be easy for you get through to her, so you must mention the name of Adam Cain when you link to the Formilians.”
“Adam Cain? Is that another Human?”
“That’s right, and the Speaker will know who he is.”
“What do you wish us to say to this being?”
“Tell her of my mission and that the coordinates for Elision are correct. Ask her to contact Adam Cain with this information.”
“Why wouldn’t we contact the Humans directly?”
“I have to assume the Klin and Kracori have monitoring stations on both sides of the Shield. If they detect a link with Earth, then they will know that the location of Elision has been discovered. This will cause them to increase their defenses around the planet and bring about many more deaths of my people when we attack. However, a link to Formil will appear innocent enough; simply a trader arranging for a shipment for electronics.”
