by T. R. Harris
“It is General, at least what would be needed for the refit.”
“And the Jusepi?” Commander Smith asked.
General Larson looked away from the table for a long moment and gathered his thoughts. He turned back to his senior staff. “We have three options as I see them. One, we cut and head back to Earth now, refit the fleet with the new drives and then head for Elision. Estimated time would be a month back to Earth, refit in three to four and then one-month’s transit to Elision. Five to six months total. The next option is to leave now for Elision, giving the Kracori less time to prepare for our attack. Transit time on conventional drive: approximately six months. And the third is we spend six months mopping up the Jusepi problem, and then head to Elision directly or via Earth for the refit. That would take a year.”
“I think that last option is unacceptable General,” Admiral Sears stated. “Yet on the other hand, we can’t leave the Jusepi free to wander the Arm. With the fleet gone to Elision, the Klin may help them get all the way to Earth.”
“There is a forth option, General,” said Colonel Hayward McMaster, the fleet’s operations officer. “There’s no question of our victory against the Jusepi, only when, and it’s obvious that the Klin have advised them to disperse their small fleet to make it harder on us to track them down. This will prolong our campaign, as the strategy was designed to do.
“Now this may not be pretty and may go against our definition of humanity, but I say we attack the Jusepi homeworld of Duelux directly. Hit them hard and make them pay for their association with the K’s. This may not have the effect of drawing their fleet home to face us, but it may stop any further movements by their units into the Arm.”
Larson raised an eyebrow. “We’d be striking civilians, Mac. Is that really what we want to be known for?”
McMaster’s face turned beet-red. “Pardon me, General, but screw alien bastards! We have over half-a-billion dead back on Earth, and with a billion more waiting to suffer a slow, agonizing death from radiation poisoning and various cancers. These aliens were involved in the plot, and they’re keeping us from going after the Kracori, something that’s being done by design. We shouldn’t play their game any longer, sir.”
General Larson smiled at his visibly-agitated junior officer. “Oh don’t get me wrong, Mac, I wasn’t being critical or even politically-correct.” He looked around at the faces at the table. “Personally, I like the idea and I think the rest of us concur.” There were nods of agreement around the table. “Since the beginning of the entire Human-Alien interaction over a decade ago, we have been the victim of numerous assaults, even when we are trying to mind our own business. I say it’s time for the Human race to exert itself. We responded to the Juirean attack by conquering their empire … and then we gave it up. That was understandable at the time because we were trying to play nice with the aliens, and they didn’t respect us for it. The same happened with the Jusepi. We didn’t conquer them; we came in peace and to make them part of a larger universe. And they reward us by siding with the K’s and helping them to implement their sneak attack on the Earth. Just think, if the Kracori had succeeded as planned, we’d be a fleet without a home, and instead of one-billion to two-billion dead, there’d be six.”
He paused and took a visual vote around the table. He didn’t ask the officers to verbally express their vote since he was the head of the fleet and therefore had ultimate command authority – and responsibility. Even then, he could tell the vote was unanimous.
“Here’s the plan, gentlemen,” he began in a slow, deep cadence. “We will proceed to Duelux and rain fire down upon the surface. If their units choose to come to the planet’s defense, we will destroy them without mercy. Following our strike, we’ll proceed to Earth at best possible speed. Once refitted with the Cain drives, we will depart for Elision. The total time may be the same as if we leave now and head straight for Elision, yet I would rather be in Kracori space with the new drives installed than without them.” Then he smiled; something rare for the beast of a senior flag officer. “Besides, once we’re in Kracori space, we may find more targets worth taking out. Someone has been assisting the Kracori in the nebula. It’s about time some lessons were taught to these aliens.”
Admiral Sears smiled back at his superior officer. “And what lesson might that be, General?”
“Simple: Don’t mess with the Humans!”
Chapter 42
On the planet Duelux…
Twelve hours later, the Human fleet entered the Duelux system. It was met with a meager resistance and proceeded in-system.
Senior Tribe Representative Dormic Furkril was in his office in the huge Symbiotic Trade Building across the vast parade field from the ruins of the Human consulate complex. He had received advanced word of the Human fleet’s arrival in the system a few hours before and had placed a frantic link to his Klin representative, an alien named Drlin Simmlo. Drlin arrived two hours later.
“You must trust the Klin, Furkril. We have studied the Humans for centuries. They are only coming here to negotiate a peace with the Jusepi. As long as your forces are located far from Duelux, no harm will come to your civilian population.”
“But they destroyed the sentries!” Furkril yelled. “And now I have four-thousand warships about to arrive and with absolutely no defense against them.”
The Klin was silent for a moment before he flipped his wrist and began to rise from the chair. “Then surrender. That will avoid any impending attack. The Humans are great believers in surrender as a tactic.”
Furkril’s ears plastered themselves against his skull. He couldn’t believe the cavalier response the Klin had just given. “Surrender … we can’t surrender. And you said the Klin and the Kracori would be here to support us to the end. I have not seen any new ships from the Klin in over four months, and I have no knowledge of a Kracori ever setting foot upon my planet.”
“Plans are amended, Furkril.”
“Because the Kracori attack failed? Yes, I have heard of the attack on Earth, and when I consider the timing of that attack and our own revolt, I do not believe it to be a coincidence. You planned the Earth attack to occur after their fleet was sent here, against us!”
“The Jusepi are now allies with the Klin and the Kracori. Our plan is your plan. Once we win this war with the Humans, then the Jusepi will also benefit.”
“But you want us to surrender! How is that being an ally? I see us now as more of a distraction. However, the Humans must now see us as complicit in the Kracori attack; that is why they are coming here instead pursuing our starships.”
“Trust the Klin, Furkril. Make contact with the Humans and inform them of your desire to end hostilities. Humans do not want to fight. They will if required, but not unless they are forced into it. They will welcome your overture, especially if it means civilian lives will be spared.”
********
But they did not. Instead the Humans summarily rejected the Jusepi offer of surrender, and now Furkril was hidden under the heavy wooden protection of his office desk, as explosions rocked the city of Morsbog. Simmlo had somehow slipped out of the office without being seen, and now the would-be Jusepi leader was alone and cowering in fear.
A massive explosion rocked the parade field outside his office, sending shards of shattered glass flying into the room. Several of the fragments found his left arm and leg and he cried out in pain. He knew the desk offered no real protection, not if the entire building came down on top of him.
He cursed the lying Klin. The Human commander had informed Furkril in no uncertain terms that there would be no cease-fire and his offer of surrender would not be accepted. The Human seemed to revel in Furkril’s anguish. He mentioned something about a return of principal resembling a female canine, and then laughed after saying it. Payback is a bitch? It made no sense, but Furkril didn’t spend much time trying to decipher the Human’s meaning – not when the ground around his building suddenly erupted with even more massive explosions.
Just then the left side of his office collapsed in on him, crushing the desk and pinning him under it, a sharp piece of splintered wood penetrating the back of his shoulder. He tried to reach the splinter yet it was just out of his reach.
Another explosion thundered throughout the building; Furkril could hear his death approaching, as floor after floor above him pancaked down on the one below. “Damn those lying Klin!” were his last words, just as the ceiling of his office raced to become one with the floor….
Chapter 43
David Charlton…
Should he tell someone about his collusion with the Klin or keep it a secret? In one way he felt horrible knowing that he had played a part in the evil plan perpetrated by the Klin and the Kracori. He had sent the fleet away, allowing for an unobstructed path to the Earth. His Klin handlers knew this was coming, yet they did nothing to warn him personally, fully expecting him to be one of the billions of casualties of the Kracori attack.
Then a sickening thought hit him: They probably won’t even pay me the gold! Maybe they never intended to pay in the first place. And why would they? They could have promised him a trillion dollars for that matter knowing he wouldn’t live long enough to receive it.
Even though he knew he was insulated from exposure – after all, the plan to send the fleet to Duelux was a good one and voted on by the Council – he still felt as if someone was going to find out. But how could they? Hell, he was one of the three leaders of the entire Human race; who would believe he – of all people – had assisted in its near-destruction.
That bastard Cain had said the Kracori fleet commander told of a manipulation of the vote to send the fleet, and General Russell Blake knew that David had fought hard for sending their forces – all of their forces – to Duelux. They had even met earlier the day of the Council vote to discuss David’s objectives for the meeting. Would Blake suspect it was he who had been in contact with the enemy, that it was he who had been the manipulator?
In one way, he was now relieved that the money would not appear in his account. He might be questioned about such a large sum showing up from an unknown source, even on a distant alien world. In a world of conspiracies, it wouldn’t take much to connect the dots.
No, he would stay quiet, and if the Klin attempt to contact him again he will tell them no.
But what if they threatened to expose him?
David Charlton had just turned sixty-five, and even though he worked out every day and watched his diet, he still felt as though his heart was about to explode. He moved over to the long leather sofa in the office – the same sofa he had laid upon not more than a month-and-a-half ago, congratulating himself on the completion of the Klin assignment. Back then it was just about the money; he couldn’t see how what they asked would cause harm. Now he knew better.
Sweat covered his brow and his hands shook visibly. He laughed, which helped to bring down his blood pressure. If only I could have a heart attack … then I wouldn’t have to live with this guilt.
No other person was present to hear his silent prayer, so no debate would follow the events of the next five minutes. All that would be said was that David Charlton, Representative of the People, was found dead in his office later that day – yet not from a heart attack, but from a massive cerebral hemorrhage.
Chapter 44
Ruszel and Canos…
“But what if the Kracori is correct?”
Canos paced the small common room of the newly christened Camora – meaning lifesong in the Tel’oran language – and formerly the Human vessel Ifrit.
Ruszel was seated on one of the small couches in the room, holding a strong Tel’oran intoxicant in his hand. They were nine days on the Guild side of the Shield and still debating whether or not to grant the unfortunate Human his final favor.
Ruszel had to admit the Kracori speech did make sense and he had been moved by it. The Kracori and the Tel’or had both been born of the Nebula; it was the Humans who were the Outers. And if there was one thing the races of the Nebula distrusted above all else, it was Outers. And yet Ruszel had promised he would comply with Riyad’s wishes. And in a very direct way, the Human had saved their lives.
“Yet he placed us in that situation to begin with, and through deception.” Canos had argued earlier. “We shouldn’t then forgive him when he saves us from the very circumstance he created.”
The debate had continued unabated for hours and then over days, until Ruszel finally had to make a decision.
“Our affiliation with the Human may have begun with devious intent, yet you have to understand his motivation. You know his world was attacked in the past by the Kracori, and he was serving as simply a soldier doing his duty. The two races are at war, and now we must decide which side is worthy of our support.”
“Precisely, Ruszel, and I say the Nebula should take priority.”
“As do I, but does that necessarily mean siding with the Kracori? They may be of the Nebula, yet they have remained hidden in the Void and refused to interact with the Guild in any meaningful way. And why is that? Do they feel us to be inferior to them, since they are the ones who united with the Klin to assume control of the Expansion?”
“Yet the Humans stopped them,” Canos said. “I can understand why the Kracori would hate them so.”
“But does that mean we must hate the Humans as well?”
“And what of the comments Riyad made in reference to us just before he was taken away? He called us spineless!”
“I believe that was part of the deception, the deception used to save our lives.”
“You may be right,” the young Tel’oran finally admitted. “But should we be involved? The clash between these two mighty races will occur no matter our actions this day.”
“Yet I granted Riyad this favor. It is a minor distraction from our day; simply a communication and a few sentences.” With his arm, Ruszel indicated the room around them. “And he has provided us with wealth and this ship. He did not need to do this. Canos, I believe this Human, this Riyad Tarazi, actually had affection for us.”
Canos nodded. “I agree. It did appear so.”
“Then let us grant the favor, and make the link. Then it will be as Riyad said: we can live our lives without guilt.”
“I will align the array, Ruszel,” Canos said, lifting himself from his chair. “Let us do this favor quickly then, for the walking-dead that is Riyad Tarazi.”
********
Arieel Bol, Speaker of the Formilian People, The High Celebrant, the Giver of Life and Light, the direct channel between the great gods of electricity Mislin and Sufor, was beside herself with sorrow.
Even though she and Adam Cain had apparently enjoyed the recent action concerning the Kracori invaders, she was now beginning to realize the terrible price the game had cost the Humans. She could relate to numbers as big as a billion souls. Her own Order was large and her followers numbered in the many of billions. She could only imagine how she would feel if so many of her own people perished in such a cruel and agonizing manner.
The threat from the neighboring Omphly Federation was constant, and she could see them taking the same action one day against her own Coalition. And now her sorrow was magnified, made worse because she had not able to help more than she had.
And then there was Adam Cain.
She could not understand the strange feelings she had toward the scrawny Human. After all, Formilian males where much more virile and refined in features than the Human, and even though she knew the Humans to be much stronger and faster in battle than her Formilian males, those traits were not apparent physically.
Yet still she was attracted to the yellow-haired alien.
Arieel had already ordered constant shipments of needed supplies and materials to be sent to Earth. Even though they had not requested her assistance, she was going to provide it nonetheless.
It was while cloistered within her inner chambers, confused and frustrated by the emotions she was experiencing, that
Second Celebrant Trimen O’lac entered her chambers without announcement.
“Forgive the intrusion, My Speaker, but a strange message has been received that requires your attention.”
‘From whom does it originate?”
“That is what is so strange; it originates from a starship pilot within a region of space called the Juddle Nebula. He has asked to speak with you directly.”
Arieel waved her hand dismissively. “Reject the summons. I do not speak with common beings from a region of space I have never heard of before.”
“He mentioned the name of Adam Cain.”
Arieel froze, as her pulse suddenly jumped to twice its normal rate. “He evoked Adam Cain?”
“Yes, My Speaker. He says he has a message he wishes you to convey to Mr. Cain.”
Arieel was up and through the wide opening to her chambers before Trimen could react. He raced to catch up with her.
“You can link in the security office,” Trimen called after her, but she was already pulling open the door and entering the complex of offices which housed her intimate security detail. A CW station was located within the offices, designed to provide her guards with instant communications should a crisis strike the Coalition or the Speaker herself.
A young and tanned technician cleared his seat for the Speaker. Trimen then nodded to the tech and the image of Ruszel Crin appeared on the screen.
“What is this message you have concerning Adam Cain,” Arieel demanded of the scaly green creature.
“Are you Arieel Bol?”
Arieel buried her chin in her neck. “I am Speaker Arieel Bol, the High Celebrant. And who are you?”
The alien on the screen seemed unimpressed by Arieel’s proclamation. “I am Ruszel Crin, a senior pilot for the Silvean Trade Guild. My associate and I have just spent the past few weeks working with a Human named Riyad Tarazi, and he has requested that I contact you with a message for Adam Cain.”
