by T. R. Harris
The Human Chronicles Saga
Part One
Book 5
The Legend of Earth
By T.R. Harris
Copyright 2013
T.R. Harris and Harris Publications
Kindle Edition
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This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-0-9858849-5-6
Email: [email protected]
Website: TheHumanChronicles.com
Also by T.R. Harris
The Fringe Worlds
Alien Assassin
The War of Pawns
The Tactics of Revenge
The Legend of Earth
“… because savagery enlightened by civilization of centuries
is a deadly thing to let loose among men.”
n - B.M. Bower, The Gringos
Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.
His story continues…
Chapter 1
He dreamed of killing Humans….
In his dream, the ground before him was littered with the bloody remains of hundreds of dead Humans, splayed about in an open field on Klinmon, his ancestral homeworld.
Linuso Summlin raised his hands to his face; they were covered with blood – Human blood. He thought this odd for a Klin, to have killed with his own hands. His race was more subtle, more finessed. They usually employed others to do the killing for them.
Yet instinctively he knew this entire field of Human corpses had fallen by his hands, and as he looked closer at the bodies, he saw all their faces were the same. It was the lifeless, vacant-eyed face of Adam Cain, the Human whose mocking smugness haunted the darkest avenues of his sleep.
Is this a memory or a dream? As the gray fog of unconsciousness began to lift, Linuso couldn’t tell which. It seemed so real – so satisfying in its aftermath – that if this was a dream, then he did not want to wake, forever content to live out the rest of his existence confined to this gruesome dreamscape.
Unfortunately, that was not to be the case….
Linuso became aware of a painful brightness attempting to invade his dream, filtering through his eyelids to wash away the scene of glorious death before him. When he opened his eyes – even a fraction – a spasm of light hit him with the force of an electric shock. He frowned and squinted, fighting to keep the stabbing pain away, but to no avail.
The foggy scene before him began to focus into reality; he was in a bed in a bright and sterile room with several beings hovering around him.
“Pleabaen, it is good to see you have regained consciousness,” said a voice to his right. As more awareness reached him, Linuso could feel he carried bandages and feeding tubes, while a strange, pervasive numbness lingered in his body.
“Where am I?” a weak and raspy voice uttered, one he barely recognized as his own.
“You are in a medical facility near the Estate. You have been severely injured, but you will recover … with time.”
“Injured, how?”
“Perhaps is not the time, Pleabaen. You have only now emerged from a coma.”
Linuso blinked his eyes several times, bringing the room into better focus. He managed to shift his head from side to side and saw the grave expressions on the four other Klin in the room. Injured? I have been injured; but I have no recollection of such an event.
“No, you must tell me now,” he commanded in his foreign voice.
There was a pregnant pause before the speaker began. “It was the Humans, McCarthy and Cain. They destroyed the communication array on the roof of the Estate and crashed it through your chambers nearly killing you. Over one hundred Klin died in the explosion and subsequent fire in the building.”
Linuso’s senses were rapidly returning; his heart raced and the veins in his temples began to pound. “The Humans did this? When … how?”
“Within minutes of being placed in the detention cell they all managed to escape. Apparently McCarthy had planned for this eventuality and placed a key and weapons within the cell—”
“Where are they now?”
“They have escaped the planet, all of them, including McCarthy and Cain.”
“And what of the battle … what of the fleet?”
Again there was a pause before the speaker answered. “The battle went to the Humans, Pleabaen. Do you not remember?” The speaker looked to the Klin wearing the uniform of a medical technician. They shared a concerned expression.
But now it was coming back to him, as memories began to explode in his head. Yes, the battle had gone to the Humans, through a feat of deception that completely destroyed the Juirean fleet and left in its wake a Human force which his own Klin numbers could not match. He had called off the attack, leaving the Human fleet free to roam the region.
“I now recall,” Linuso said. “I withdrew the fleet as we seek an alternative plan to defeat the Juireans – and now apparently the Humans as well.”
Through his groggy awareness, Linuso could see several of the Klin exchange more looks of concern. The speaker – who Linuso now recognized as one of his aides named Jinnil – appeared to be internally debating something more.
“What is it?” Linuso asked him. “Are there other developments?”
“Yes, Linuso,” Jinnil said slowly. “The fleet … the Kracori have assumed control.”
With each new revelation, Linuso was shocked further into consciousness. Painfully, he attempted to rise up in the bed; two aides rushed in to assist him, propping a pillow behind his back. “What do you mean: assumed control?”
“There has been a revolt throughout the Kracori population, Pleabaen. They have either killed or imprisoned all the Klin who have been working with them and have taken over all our land-based facilities as well as all spaceships on which they were embarked. The situation is grave. I know the rest of the Forum will be grateful that you have regained consciousness. A conference was to be convened soon if you had not. We are in dire need of leadership, Pleabaen.”
“Where is the fleet now – this Kracori fleet?”
“They have embarked on a course for Juir.”
“Juir! Do they intend to accomplish the cleansing themselves?”
“That appears to be the case,” Jinnil said. “The Juirean forces between Falor-Kapel and their homeworld are greatly diminished. There is a possibility that if the Kracori fleet can arrive before the Juireans have a chance to regroup, they could lay waste to the planet with little resistance.”
“And what of the Humans?”
“They have just now met up with the second fleet from Earth and are still in the vicinity of the Falor-Kapel system. Linuso, their fleet is now over thirteen-hundred ships strong. There is no force between them and Juir that can counter such a fleet, if they embark for Juir as well.”
“They will move on Juir,” the Pleabaen stated firmly, “if they know the planet is vulnerable. Have they made any indication that they are aware of this fact?”
“All our surrogates aboard the fleet have gone silent. We do not know the intentions of the
Humans.”
Linuso attempted to climb from the bed, but spasms of pain in his back and legs forced him to fall back on the cushion. After fighting through the agony, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, calming his mind and body. “I must convene the Forum; it will have to be here, seeing as I am unable to leave. All options must be weighed and new plans devised. We cannot allow either the Kracori – or the Humans – to reach Juir before we do. The Klin have worked too long to let some outliers steal our glory. We cannot let it happen … not again.”
Chapter 2
Adam Cain thought this is how people on death row must feel.
An hour earlier, an announcement had blared from the PA system of the Juirean Enforcer-class starship informing all the prisoners that they had entered the Juirean stellar system and were now to begin preparations. Adam was at a loss as to what preparations he needed to make. After all, how does one prepare for one’s own execution?
With nothing better to do for the past two months, Adam found his imagination to be his own worst enemy. During that time he had managed to conjure up all kinds of outrageous and improbable scenarios for how his stay on Juir might transpire. In one such scenario he and his fellow Humans would convince the Juireans to set them free. In another they would escape in a hail of flash bolts. Or lastly – with trumpets blowing – the Human fleet would sweep in at the last minute to save them all from certain death. Yet no matter how convincing he made the fantasies out to be, there was only one thing he knew for certain: he had no idea how the next twenty-four hours would play out.
The fact that Adam and the Humans were still prisoners of the Juirean Overlord Anawar Fe Batlin was a testament not only to the alien’s effectiveness, but also to his paranoia. It had been two months since they had surrendered to the ten-ship convoy commanded by the elderly Overlord, coming only five days after escaping from the Klin stronghold on Marishal. The Humans had surrendered to the Juireans believing that it made more sense to take their chances as prisoners, as opposed to being blasted out of space in a hail of energy bolts. And besides, they had history on their side; no prison or jail cell had been able to contain the Humans for very long. As in the past, the Humans treated their imprisonment as just a temporary setback. To them, it wasn’t a question of if they could escape, but rather when.
But then the Overlord had pulled a fast one….
They had only been aboard the Juirean Class-3 starship for two days when Adam was summoned into Overlord Anawar Fe Batlin’s private chambers.
“I’ve made new arrangements for your detainment,” the gruff, old alien had said. Adam stood silently before the Juirean’s desk waiting for more details.
“I will not have a repeat of what happened the last time you were held aboard a Juirean vessel, so you and your companions are to be transferred to another ship – a small, unmanned Enforcer. You will have full run of the ship, all except the bridge and generator rooms. Explosives have been fashioned around these spaces while monitors have been placed throughout the ship. I will not tolerate any efforts to access these spaces, or any attempts to escape.”
Anawar leaned back in his chair and ran a wrinkled hand through his light blue hair. Adam knew Juireans signified rank by the dyed color of their manes, great masses of hair that billowed from the tops of their head to cascade halfway down their backs. However, this Overlord was old, and the constant battle between the dark blue of his rank and the ravages of age was quickly being lost to stubborn streaks of gray. Maybe he’ll do a better dye job for his command appearance before the Council, Adam thought. A little Just for Aliens would go a long way to help cover up that gray.
“I am fully aware of your reputation, Adam Cain,” the Overlord continued. “I am also aware of the outcome of the latest engagement between our two races. This convoy is headed for Juir to add our firepower to the countering forces being assembled there, a journey which will take two standard months.” Anawar paused a moment to look Adam up and down. “You Humans are the gravest enemies of the Juirean Expansion and I would not be faulted for simply destroying the prison ship at my discretion, killing all of you in the process. I have the Klin-designed spacecraft you were captured aboard, which by itself will gain me great favor with the Council. But I must admit, I would personally like to present you to Elder Hydon as well, but it is not a necessity. The last thing I will tolerate is any further loss of Juirean life by your hands. Be forewarned, I will be looking for a reason not to kill you and your co-conspirators. Eliminating you as a threat as soon as possible would make my life much simpler. So whether you live or die now depends entirely on your actions aboard the prison ship.”
Anawar briefly flashed his teeth, a gesture that would normally be called a smile, yet one Adam knew to be sign of defiance and arrogance in alien culture. Adam did not respond; it was too early in his captivity to cause problems. Besides, this particular Juirean seemed serious about keeping him in chains. That may change, but for now he had to be careful.
“You seem to have thought of everything,” Adam complimented. “When will this transfer take place?”
“Immediately; as we speak your companions are being escorted to the landing bay.” The Juirean hesitated, fighting back the urge to say something more. Finally he gave in to his urges. “The Juirean people do not deserve the pain and destruction your barbaric race has brought to the Expansion, and if you were any other group of Humans, I would have summarily executed all of you as an act of war. But you are Adam Cain, the terrorist, and I know how much pleasure the Elder will get from personally putting an end to your evil existence. But remember, you arriving at Juir alive would simply be a bonus.”
The shuttle skidded into the Enforcer’s small landing bay, and once the atmosphere had returned to the chamber, all the prisoners were hustled out under heavy guard. Anawar’s Counselor, another old Juirean named Timino, was in charge of the transfer. He barely said a word, seeming instead to be put out by the whole affair. When everyone was off the shuttle the old Juirean stepped up to Adam.
“I would have cast you all out into the cold of space if I was in command,” he said without preamble. “I know that as long as you and your kind are alive, you are a threat.”
Adam grinned at him, flashing his teeth in his own sign of challenge and defiance. “Yeah, I get it: The only good Human is a dead Human – something like that?”
“That is a very accurate way to express it,” the Juirean agreed. Then he motioned for all the guards to reenter the shuttle. He turned back to Adam just before the hatch was shut. “We will be monitoring you. I welcome the opportunity to recommend detonation of the explosives – just give me a reason.” And with that he disappeared into the shuttle.
The prisoners all quickly moved out of the landing bay and into an observation room, before the atmosphere was evacuated from the chamber once again and the shuttle departed. As soon as it was clear, the room exploded with over a dozen different voices all trying to speak at once. McCarthy’s booming command soon brought immediate silence.
“Carter, I saw that there are environment suits in the landing bay. We’ll suit up and spacewalk back to the command ship. They won’t be expecting that. Once we get there, we’ll look for some way to get inside.”
“That would be very risky,” Kaylor spoke up. “If the convoy enters a well, everyone outside would be sucked in. That won’t work.”
McCarthy’s eyes darted back and forth widely. “Then we’ll have to get onto the bridge. “Connors and Sato, the two of you see if we can gain access through the air duct system—”
“Hold on!” Sherri yelled, her high-pitched voice cutting cleanly through the low, guttural tone of the men. She stepped in front of McCarthy, who towered over her by a good head-and-a-half, and pointed a finger up at his face. “Who put you in charge?” she asked. “To me, you’re just a god-damn traitor. You were quite content to play along with the Klin until they stabbed you in the back. As I see it, you’re just as responsible as the Klin for all th
e crap that’s been going on for who knows how long. You probably even knew that the Juirean attack on the Earth was a setup. You knew the Klin could have stopped it before anyone got killed, but you did nothing. You’re just as responsible for all those deaths as the stinking Klin!”
Adam had been watching the expressions of McCarthy’s men as Sherri had unleashed her tirade. None seemed surprised by the allegations. That was not good, meaning they had been part of the conspiracy against their own race, too, just like McCarthy. However, it did provide Adam with a valuable insight into their loyalties.
Finally, McCarthy had had enough. He raised his hand to strike the feisty female, only to have all the Human members of Adam’s team suddenly rush forward. They were immediately blocked by several of McCarthy’s own men, and a tense standoff ensued.
Adam shoved his way between McCarthy and Sherri, separating them. “Everyone just calm down; fighting amongst ourselves will not accomplish a thing.”
“But we can’t do nuthin,” said one of Nigel’s men, aggressively moving to within a palm’s length of Adam’s face. He tolerated the man’s foul breath; he was sure they all suffered from the same malady. “They’re just going to kill us when we get to Juir,” the man finished.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Adam said.
“What the fuck does that mean?” the man asked. Adam remembered his name was Simpson – or something like that – and he was one of the Australians.
“The Juireans have been a victim of the Klin’s manipulations, just as we have. I think we have a good chance of convincing them that we’re not really their enemy—”
