Alien Games (The Human Chronicles Saga Book 17)

by T. R. Harris

  Alien Games

  The Human Chronicles Saga

  # 17

  an Adam Cain adventure

  by

  T.R. Harris

  Copyright 2016 by T.R. Harris

  All rights reserved, without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanically, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. ***

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  Novels by T.R. Harris

  The Human Chronicles Saga

  The Fringe Worlds

  Alien Assassin

  The War of Pawns

  The Tactics of Revenge

  The Legend of Earth

  Cain’s Crusaders

  The Apex Predator

  A Galaxy to Conquer

  The Masters of War

  Prelude to War

  The Unreachable Stars

  When Earth Reigned Supreme

  A Clash of Aliens

  Battlelines

  The Copernicus Deception

  Scorched Earth

  Alien Games

  Jason King – Agent to the Stars Series

  The Enclaves of Sylox

  Treasure of the Galactic Lights

  The Drone Wars Series

  Day of the Drone

  In collaboration with George Wier…

  The Liberation Series

  Captains Malicious

  Contents

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Have you seen the future?

  Yes, and I am concerned.

  The entity that had once been known a Nunki felt the thoughts of the others caress his brain. They moved within it as water around pebbles in a stream.

  Neither are we. That is why we have initiated this contact.

  I sense a plan has been developed. Is it confirmed? Nunki asked.

  With your agreement, it will.

  That is very kind of you. Yet I am but one Aris; I will not go against the will of the others.

  He sensed a laugh. The others? There are so few left. Time is the great killer of perseverance. That is why we have come to this conclusion.

  Nunki nodded mentally. I see the plan; it is the only way to maintain any sense of identity. If not, then we will continue to evolve until nothing of us remains. There will always be the temptation to evolve beyond even this point, yet with our world about to end, all that will be left is us, and only us. What happens when time propels us beyond recognizing even ourselves?

  That is the future that awaits us.

  Unless we stop our evolution, Nunki stated within the minds of the community.

  Yes. What good is our grand experiment if by the time it comes to fruition we no longer care about the results? It would make all our efforts, all our genius…pointless.

  Another presence spoke. And that would surely be the outcome. The time scale we speak of is beyond even our comprehension.

  Yet we do have the ability to view our past, Nunki thought, what we were then and what we are now, and that was over only a million years. What form will we take three billion years from now? All we can do is speculate, while knowing that it will be something unrecognizable, nothing as we are today.

  Then it is agreed? asked the first entity. It didn’t need to hear the response; the feelings conveyed were adequate for a verdict. We will instruct our service modules to create chambers within a secure location where we can suspend our evolution. These creations must be self-maintaining, for the time period over which they must function is far beyond any reasonable expectation.

  It can be done, Nunki thought. We are capable of directing such construction.

  And what of a trigger? another presence asked. At what point will we be resurrected?

  I will leave a marker. When the experiment has advanced far enough, it will signal our revival.

  The next feeling Nunki conveyed brought confusion to the others.

  We do not understand.

  It is quite simple, Nunki began. We will build our chambers and be placed within. Our consciousness will fade…only to return a moment later. At that point three billion years will have passed, and we will have no sensation of the passage of time. It will be an incredible journey, taking place in the blink of an eye. I find that thought quite stimulating.

  The others agreed.

  Three billion years later, and in another galaxy…

  Daric (416) watched his young opponent maneuver for another strike. It had been almost humorous how predictable he was. Age and experience gave Daric a sense of prescience; he had been in this exact spot many times before.

  That was why he selected this battleground. As the challenged, he chose the arena—one of three available on the station—and this one was the most basic, with only minimal cover. The least-experienced often chose the more elaborate, with their myriad of cover and obstructions. They believed they could move more quickly through the maze than could their elders, out maneuvering them for surprise attacks.

  This arena provided no place of substance to hide. Daric’s opponent had to confront him head-on, using skill with only blade and vandish, rather than deception and youthful energy.

  Daric toyed with young Linoc (611), allowing him to take several strikes with his sword and swipes with the prickly net called a vandish. He even let the tip of his opponent’s blade come precariously close to splitting his skin. Injury in the arena was a judgement call by the referee. Blood-letting was allowed, but only to a point. If severe enough, the match would be called.

  This was a challenge for possessions and status, not for immunity points.

  As predicted, Linoc whirled his blade around in a blur, his body spinning in the air in what was called a tralic, before angling it toward Daric’s head. The move was skillful and swift—yet as mentioned—predictable. Daric bent back, performing a perfectly timed backflip while bringing his own sword up to meet his opponent’s. The joining of metal upon metal rang throughout the arena.

  Linoc completed the tralic and regained his balance with expert precision, his gold eyes narrow and intense. The young member of the Kallen-Noc Blood-Team was indeed skillful, if overanxious. He was leaving too many tells, indicators Daric was cataloging in his tactically-trained mind.

  The two combatants circled again, occasionally twirling shiny metal weapons at one another, more to test reactions than for any promise of contact.

  Daric then saw the vein pulse once again in Linoc’s neck. This happened each time his young challenger prepared for a strike, unconsciously testing the weight of his sword before acting.

  The full strike came a moment
later. Daric was ready. Linoc came at him with a thrust of this sword and a sweep of the vandish. The blade slid past Daric’s head with only the slightest reprieve before he dove forward and over the incoming spiked netting. He landed on his back, rolled and then sprung to his feet, spinning in the thin layer of Nuorean dirt spread over the artificial surface of the arena. The casting of the heavy net sent Linoc turning in a wide arc. Daric jumped, rolling again before sliding in behind his challenger.

  The young player saw the move from the corner of his eye. Suspecting that Daric would be angling for his own attack, Linoc whipped around again, bringing his blade in low and flat-edged, expecting to slap hard against Daric’s unprotected legs. Skin would be broken, and the match called, with Linoc the victor.

  Yet Daric was ready. When behind his opponent and out of sight, he planted the sharp tip of his sword into the hard surface of the arena and turned the edge outward. He gripped the hilt firmly in both hands, readying for the impact to come. When Linoc’s sword came at him, it contacted the sharp edge of the blade with a resounding report…and snapped.

  Daric jumped away to avoid the twirling piece of sharp metal. Even inadvertent injury would be grounds for match termination.

  Linoc stepped back, momentarily glancing at his broken weapon. It was the opening Daric was waiting for. With extreme skill and accuracy, he flicked out with his own sword, catching the bottom of Linoc’s ear in the process. A generous section of flesh fell away as blood gushed from the wound.

  A horn sounded, signaling the end of the contest.

  Daric eyed his opponent with singular focus, knowing there was a moment within every challenge when uncertainty ruled. Would the vanquished yield to the horn, or would temper flare and the contest continue—with often unfortunate consequences? Daric backed away, extending his blade in an effort to advertise to Linoc that he was beyond the reach of his broken sword.

  To his credit, Linoc showed no willingness to continue.

  “Do you yield?” Daric asked.

  “I yield…today you are the Master,” Linoc chanted in the traditional manner, dropping what remained of his weapon.

  Each bowed to the other, before turning to the referee. In unison they spoke: “The Way is preserved, this game is over, to be continued another day.”

  The referee spoke: “The challenge is awarded to Daric (416) of the Kallen-Noc. As the vanquished, you, Linoc (611) must surrender all possessions beyond Basic to the House of Daric immediately. Let the contest be recorded…let all animosity cease.”

  Daric turned to his young blood-kin. “As is my right, I offer an after-game analysis. Do you accept?”

  Linoc seemed genuinely surprised by the offer. “Of course, Lead-Player, I would be honored.”

  Daric nodded, before leading the youth from the arena and into the primary staging area. No following contests were scheduled for this field, so they were alone.

  “I will begin with an admonishment,” Daric said sternly. “Your ambition is obvious, yet it is never wise to challenge within your own Blood-Team.”

  “I understand, Master, yet on the station there are so few members of other Teams to challenge.”

  “And you knew I will be leaving tomorrow.”

  “Hence the urgency.”

  “Linoc, as a member of our Blood-Team who holds much potential, I wish to offer you counsel. You jumped levels to challenge me. That shows recklessness. Now all your possessions above Basic will be forfeited. Your three acquire mates will become mine and your family will be moved from their present accommodations to those of a lower status. You risked too much. It would have been better to move in more conventional stages, analyzing your opponents—be they fellow Team members or not—until the outcome is virtually guaranteed. You are young, so there was no real urgency, only an artificial deadline you placed upon yourself. You could have returned to Nuor and found ample opponents outside the Team. Now you must start over, able to challenge again only once life-points have been acquired…or you can find access to elusive immunity points. You have set yourself back by several years.”

  Linoc thrust out his jaw and glared at the older Team member. “All your statements I recognize, yet you must acknowledge the scarcity of first-level immunity challenges. My only recourse is to acquire points from others. It is not as easy to advance today as it was when you were my age. I was willing to take the risk considering the potential gain.”

  “And you thought me to be an easy target?”

  “Forgive, Lead-Player, but you have not had a challenge in eight cycles. I believed you to be out of practice.”

  “I appreciate your honesty; however you failed to learn of my non-recorded habits. I train every day, therefore my skills and reactions are intact.” Daric smiled. “Yet I must admit I did welcome the opportunity for a live-contest before embarking for the Kac.”

  Daric reached out a hand and touched his finger to the blood still oozing from Linoc’s wounded ear. He brought the bloody finger to his tongue and tasted the red liquid. “Your blood is my blood, Linoc. Remember that.”

  Studying the young Kallen-Noc before him, Daric reflected on his words. The frustration they conveyed was shared by many of the Nuor; indeed, Daric among them. The opportunity to gain immunity points was growing scarcer by the cycle. For thousands of years, the number of advanced species in the galaxy had been diminished to the point where their populations were now managed as a way to retain a steady supply of immunity players. Yet only the most-privileged among the Nuor were allowed to challenge the aliens directly. The only avenue left open to many lower-level players was to challenge those who already held immunity points in their award packages.

  Yet that did not fully explain Linoc’s reckless challenge of a clearly superior opponent.

  “I will now continue with my analysis,” Daric said. “This next point has to do with your playing style. Just prior to a strike, you test the grip on your sword, causing a vein in your neck to pulse. Be aware of this. By knowing it happens, you can use it to deceive an opponent, yet only after you have learned to control it.”

  “I thank you, Lead-Player. Is there more?”

  “I smelled your fear. It was evident from the beginning—” Daric stopped speaking as a thought occurred to him. “You knew you would lose…and yet still you challenged.”

  Linoc remained silent, meeting Daric’s gold eyes with intensity and fire.

  “You had other motivations for the challenge,” the Lead-Player stated. “What are they?”

  Still Linoc hesitated.

  “Answer me! I command it.”

  “I wished to gain your notice…and an audience.”

  Daric felt his anger rise, yet it was not directed at his young blood-kin, but rather at himself.

  “My compliments, Linoc, well played. Yet you sacrificed much for this opportunity. What is your end-game?”

  “I wish to accompany you to the Kac.”

  “You are not on the list.”

  “Of course, that is why I have staged this event. Please let me explain.”

  Daric owed him as much for his skillful maneuvering of a senior player. He nodded.

  “Yes, I am ambitious…as you once were, as you are now. That is why you command the invasion fleet of the Kac Galaxy. I can see the motivations behind the Kac Project and I believe it will save our race. Yet I was not chosen to participate. I may be invited to play at some future date, but I seek a quicker path. I am a skillful player, and within the Kac there will be untold opportunities for meaningful challenges, opportunities no longer present in the Suponac Galaxy for a Nuorean such as I. Grant me this, Lead-Player. Place me aboard a small, insignificant warship. I will not disappoint, yet through your generosity, I may earn the immunity points I so desperately seek.”

  Daric studied the young Nuorean. He was indeed ambitious. Yet not only that, he was also cunning and had skills unrecognized. He had taken an incredible gamble, with little chance of success.

  It was at that point Dar
ic realized he was looking into a mirror, at a younger player from ages past. Nuoreans often live to a hundred cycles or more, yet are only allowed to offer and accept challenges between the ages of twenty and seventy. Linoc was twenty-five; Daric, forty-eight. When Daric was twenty-five, the opportunity for immunity points was not much more than they were today—contrary to Linoc’s belief—and he had essentially followed the same path as Linoc, although in more calculated steps.

  He was also lucky. He won all of his initial games except one. Yet by then he’d acquired enough immunity points that he suffered no loss of possessions or status in his defeat, only a portion of his IP’s. Eventually, he reached a level of points and skill where he was allowed to go against the aliens, with even more immunity points awarded with each victory. Linoc was simply doing what he felt necessary…under current conditions.

  Without warning, Daric took Linoc by the neck and pulled his face close to his. All pretense of friendship or fatherly counsel was gone. “I will make you a bargain, young Linoc,” he growled. “I will approve your transfer to the fleet on the condition that you do not let them repair the damage to your ear. You are to carry the deformity for the rest of life as a reminder of your reckless gambit. You do not move before it is time, you do not reveal yourself when it is not necessary, and you never let your opponent smell your fear. Now go…tend to yourself. Then report to my shuttle. I grant you your wish, although you may not live through the consequence.”

  “I am not afraid.”

  Moran sniffed the air. “And one other thing, Linoc (611), do not lie to me again.”

  Daric watched Linoc rush from the staging area, still frustrated that he had been so easily manipulated into the negotiation. He had not seen the end-game coming, and that was a problem. He was to lead a vast fleet into a galaxy full of unknown challenges. For that he must be on his game…or else it would be he who would not be returning alive from the Kac Galaxy.

  Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

  His adventures continue….