Alien Games (The Human Chronicles Saga Book 17)

by T. R. Harris

  “What is your point, Human?” the Overlord bellowed.

  “My point? Just that this needs to be unified operation. The invaders had only sixteen capital ships, plus a couple of hundred of the small carrier-borne attack craft against several thousand of ours. They had to know most of our ships were non-combatants. That was why they sent so few. I believe this is only the front-guard of a much larger force.”

  “I concur,” said Balonoc Sur, the Que’l representative to the celebration. “I have received reports that the invaders were able to overload the electrical systems of my ship, after which they boarded and left with four random members of the crew. Furthermore, a Library search has turned up no matching species to the invaders. They are an unknown race.”

  “Then maybe…so are we!” Sherri said, her eyes growing wider as she spoke.

  The Juirean turned to her and growled. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they may not know anything about us, all of us. That’s why they only took people. Maybe they want to learn what we’re like, what we’re capable of.”

  “What they have learned is that they can attack us with impunity,” Sando said.

  “Maybe not,” Sherri continued. “As Riyad said, they had to know the bulk of the ships around Formil weren’t warships. Otherwise they would have come in with guns a-blazing and in lot larger numbers. Now they have samples of almost eighty percent of all the advanced races in the galaxy. If you ask me, this was a pretty slick move on their part.”

  “If what you say is true, then this is just a prelude to a more serious military incursion,” Trimen added. “Once they learn more of our capabilities and makeup, more tactical attacks will take place.”

  Riyad headed for the door. “Two can play at this game. Trimen, you mentioned prisoners. Where are they? I think it’s time we stopped guessing and go get some real answers.”

  ********

  Nine of the invaders had survived their wounds, with four in relatively good condition—at least good enough to suffer the interrogation from aliens that had no concept of Human rights.

  Riyad was a Human, but he also wasn’t bound by any moral code when it came to getting answers, at least not on the planet Formil. He was itching for a little resistance from the captives.

  The first prisoner was brought in and placed in a chair in what looked like a typical police interrogation room. Trimen was with him. The Juirean Sando ra Todd insisted on being present as well.

  Riyad studied the alien. He stood a little over six feet tall and with a stocky build. His skin was a uniform light-brown, and his eyes glowed gold like nothing Riyad had seen before. He would have remembered an alien like this. The body armor had been removed and now the alien wore just a simple single-piece off-white garment with thick stitching and a coarse texture. He had a bandage around his right arm and wrapping his shoulder.

  “Can you understand me?” Riyad asked. From the reports he’d received, it had been established the aliens had translation devices somewhere on or in their bodies. This was an innocuous question meant to get the ball rolling.

  “Yes.”

  Riyad grinned, displaying his exceptionally white teeth to the alien. He noticed a slight recoil, from which the alien quickly recovered. Good, he can be scared, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

  “They call me Riyad. I am a Human. What is your name and race?”

  The creature was more defiant than submissive with his answer. “I am Third-Player Level-Two, Ossen six forty-two Kallen-Noc of the Nuor.”

  It was Riyad’s turn to recoil. “That’s quite a name. What does all that mean?”

  The alien frowned. “I do not understand the question.”

  “I mean, you have names and numbers.”

  “Yes. I am the six hundred forty-second Nuorean to be named Ossen since the creation of the Kallen-Noc Blood-Team.”

  “What’s a blood team?”

  “Do you not have Blood-Teams?”

  “You mean like a family, descended from one to the other?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Good.” Riyad leaned closer to the table, displaying his threatening teeth once more. “Now, Ossen, where the hell did all you Nuoreans come from, and why did you attack us!”

  Ossen focused on Riyad’s savage look. Once over his initial shock, the alien appeared…excited. “You display the characteristics of a level-one challenge. Your immunity points would be high. I wish to engage you in a full challenge, as soon as my injuries heal. You must grant me the time. It is in the rules.”

  Riyad sat back. “What rules? What challenge are you talking about?” Then it hit him. “You want to fight me?”

  “Of course, you are an immunity challenge. That is why we are here.”

  “Here? From where?”

  “Suponac.”

  “What is Suponac?”

  Ossen furrowed his forehead. “Suponac…the Suponac Galaxy.”

  Riyad’s jaw fell slack. The Juirean Sando took over the questioning. “You come from another galaxy? How is that so?”

  “I do not know. I am a crewmember, a player of the third-degree. I do not understand tech.” He eyed the eight-foot taller Juirean and his massive mane of pale blue hair. “You may carry even more immunity points than the…the Human,” Ossen said, his gold eyes seemingly on fire. “I challenge you as well, yet in separate events, of course.”

  Sando stood up straight and thrust out his chest. “I accept your challenge!”

  “Back off, Sando,” Riyad ordered. “We’re not going to grant this creature his wish, at least not yet. Ossen, why did you take only individual members of our species?”

  “Those were our orders.”

  “Yes, I know, but why?”

  “I would assume to assign immunity points.”

  “What are immunity points?”

  Ossen slowly scanned the faces of the others in the room. Then he nodded slowly. His tone when he spoke again was like that of a patient school master to a slow student. “Immunity points are given for challenges of alien species. The higher the challenge-factor, the more points.”

  “I still don’t understand,” said Riyad. “What do immunity points give you?”

  Ossen smiled. The expression surprised the others in the room. “Immunity points protect against loss of possessions in standard challenges. Depending on how many one has accumulated, a Nuorean could lose some or none of his acquired possessions beyond Basic, even in defeat.”

  “How do you gain immunity points?” Sando asked.

  Ossen’s gold eyes met the Juirean’s yellow orbs. “By killing aliens…like you.”

  The unrestrained Nuorean shot to his feet, jumping on his chair and at Sando’s head a split second later. Riyad noticed the alien grimace as he lifted his injured right arm, but still he managed to imbed a stiff finger into the Juirean’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound, even as the much larger creature grabbed Ossen and tossed him across the room.

  In mid-air, the Nuorean righted himself and bounced away from the wall in a springboard-like manner and straight for Riyad. He lowered his head and planted it into Riyad’s stomach, driving air from the Human’s lungs and sending him crashing to the floor.

  Ossen turned his attention to Trimen next.

  Just then the door to the interrogation room flew open and Arieel Bol rushed into the room, a sparkling ball of crackling blue light leading her way. With a flick of her hands, the hot ball of electricity slammed into Ossen’s chest, sending him backwards. The front of his tunic caught fire; he swatted at the flames until they were out.

  By then Arieel was standing above the Nuorean, another orb of hot static electricity held menacingly above her right hand. The alien cowered in fear.

  “You…are a sassour—a demon!” Ossen cried out.

  “Yes I am! Now tell me: Where is my daughter!”

  ********

  “Daughter, as in Blood-Team female? I know nothing of this. We took only males.” The fear was evident in the
alien’s eyes, a level of terror that had been missing when confronting the males in the room.

  “Yes, the female Lila.”

  “I repeat. I know nothing of this.”

  Riyad came up to Arieel. “Calm down, Arieel. His people didn’t take Lila.”

  The knowing tone in his voice made Arieel stop and turn. “Then who did?”

  Riyad glanced at the Juirean then back to Arieel. “The Aris did.”

  “Aris!”

  “What are the Aris?” Sando asked. The Overlord had a section of his official robe pressed against the still oozing hole in his neck.

  “It can’t be the Aris!” Arieel cried.

  “Again, what—or who—are the Aris?”

  Riyad shook his head at the towering alien. “You don’t want to know.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No…you don’t.”

  Chapter 5

  Adam’s stolen starship was towed to the huge mothership and maneuvered into the largest hangar bay he’d ever seen. Standing before the forward viewport, he craned his neck to take in the view. Gravity had returned, but it was that of the mothership. Adam reasoned it was about standard for the galaxy, which would give him a strength advantage. He’d encountered these aliens before—briefly—yet long enough to know they can be killed, and he knew how to do it. He was hoping he’d be given the opportunity to rack up a decent score before...well, the before was still an unknown.

  A few moments later banging came to the pressure door of the pilothouse. Adam remained by the viewport, smiling and waving at the crowd gathering below. One of the aliens began yelling at him to come out. Adam assumed The Thinker position with his head and right hand then shook his head no. This only confused the aliens more. They continued to call for him to leave the ship before backing off to allow another of their kind to approach.

  Adam recognized this one, not by any particular physical features, but by the plastic guard and bandage wrapped around his head and over his broken nose.

  Adam pointed at the alien, smiled and winked. Then he took a boxer’s stance and bobbed and weaved a few times while sending out short jabs. It was humorous to Adam, not so to the injured alien leader.

  After a moment of playing around, Adam waved his hand and nodded. He was coming out. There was little to be gained staying aboard the ship, and if the aliens got serious, he couldn’t keep them out.

  Strong hands of the slightly taller aliens took hold of him and led him off the ship. The leader was waiting.

  “I hope you do not cause any more disruptions—or injuries. You will not be harmed, Adam Cain, as long as you cooperate.” The alien’s voice sounded more nasally than usual.

  “Cooperate how?”

  “Follow directions and do as you are told.”

  “You sound like my first drill instructor.” Adam looked around the huge landing bay, which extended for several hundred yards in every direction, even up. “Who the hell are you guys? I would have remembered your beautiful golden eyes if I’d seen you before.”

  “We are the Nuor. And you have never seen us before because we come from your larger neighboring galaxy. According to what we have deciphered, you call it Andromeda, while we call it Suponac.”

  “I prefer Andromeda to Suponac. Rolls off the tongue better.”

  “I understand your humor, Human. I assume this is some kind of defensive reaction when faced with overwhelming odds.”

  “Oh, I suppose you guys could give me a pretty good run for my money, but I wouldn’t call my odds over you overwhelming, just adequate.”

  The alien smiled. “I have heard much of you, Adam Cain. Seeing you before me now I have to believe the opponents you have faced in your Milky Way Galaxy have been of inferior stock. I assure you, the Nuor will be much more challenging.”

  “Can’t wait to find out.”

  Now the alien laughed. “As I, too, Adam Cain. Now take him to the others.”

  ********

  The Others ended up being twenty-four other creatures from the Milky Way, including a huge Silean, three hopping Hybens, two Juireans, a Que’l, four Formilians…and even a Klin, having joined the group after Adam.

  The Juireans immediately descended on the silver-skinned Klin, shoving his tall, slender body against a bulkhead in the large holding room they were in. Adam wanted to join them, but didn’t. Instead he stepped between the two parties.

  “Relax, dudes,” he said to the Juireans.

  “This is a Klin. We have not had access to a live one for several millennia. He will pay for his deeds, and the deeds of his kind.”

  “I appreciate that. And no one more than me would like to tear him apart limb by limb. But just think about this: His people are smart, a lot smarter than we are. We may need him to get out of this mess we’re all in.” Adam waved his arm around at the rest of the prisoners. “Look around, these bastards have taken representatives of dozens of races, and not just the ones we can see here. There were over two thousand at or near Formil. I’ll bet they have ships full of others just like us. This isn’t just about us. It’s about these alien assholes against our entire galaxy. We need to stick together.”

  The two huge Juireans thought over his words of reason and diplomacy for a few seconds, before pushing past Adam and literally tearing the weak-boned Klin to shreds.

  Adam stepped out of the way to avoid the ever-expanding pool of blood on the deck. He shrugged. “At least I tried.”

  ********

  About an hour later, armed Nuorean guards came to the holding room and escorted the prisoners to individual cells, a room for each species. Adam was the only Human in the group so he got a private suite with his own cot and bathroom—what aliens called grooming stations. This grooming station consisted of not much more than a hole in the deck and a continuously running stream of dirty water, undoubtedly recycled—and hopefully not between cells. The main room was about six feet deep by ten wide, with the bathroom four by four.

  Adam sat on the hard cot and looked around. It took him all of five seconds before he knew every square inch of his cell intimately. The door had slid shut, and there was a single light encased in glass flush with the ceiling. The walls were made of single panels of shiny metal. Beyond that, there wasn’t much more.

  Adam tried his ATD, on the off chance it could link with the alien electronics, including the door controls. All he could do was detect the presence of the circuits, but the Formilian-designed device couldn’t influence any of them. He did, however, notice an electronic signal where the wall met the ceiling to his left. There was a one-inch-diameter black circle there, obviously a surveillance camera. He looked away nonchalantly, acting as if he hadn’t noticed the lens. There was no need to give away any of his secrets.

  Restless, he stood and paced the room, before leaning against the right side wall and feeling the cold metal against his back, which was soothing on the friction burns he’d suffered earlier. When he went to pull away he noticed the metal wristband of his watch—yes, they’d let him keep his watch—clung to the metal until he pulled a little harder.

  Magnets. There were magnets behind the wall.

  Casually, he slid along the panel, acting bored and restless. Sure enough, every two feet his watchband would stick. He sat on the bed again and contemplated what he’d learned.

  Why have magnets behind the wall? Then he looked closer at the panels themselves. They were one solid piece each, and with a thin gap along all four sides between the adjoining walls, floor and ceiling. None were bolted or welded, instead held in place by magnets.

  Upon closer examination, the cells appeared to be makeshift rooms, adjustable depending on the size, shape and number of the occupants. The frames making up the sides must be able to slide within the narrow channels in the deck, and then covered with metal panels. It seemed an efficient way of making a lot of tiny rooms out of a larger space, yet still secure enough to hold the prisoners.

  Adam Cain smiled. He had a plan.

  ******
**

  The ceiling was only about seven feet high. Adam removed his shirt and wrapped his right hand in the cloth, then moved to just below the not-so-hidden camera and smashed his hand into the lens. The glass shattered.

  He put his shirt back on and moved across the room. The six-foot-wide wall panel had some play in it, and Adam was able to work a couple of fingers in behind the quarter-inch thick plate. He pulled and the panel began to separate, breaking the magnetic bonds with the first horizontal stud. He pulled harder and the entire wall panel came loose.

  Now came the tricky part. Adam balanced the plate on the floor as he slipped in behind it, moving the wall out about a foot while pressing his body between the studs as much as he could. He balanced the panel as best he could. He had nothing to hold on to, so at any moment the panel could topple away from him and into the room.

  Fortunately, he didn’t have to hold this balancing act for long. He heard the door to his cell slide open and someone entered; in fact, he heard three distinct voices and his translation bug relayed what they said.

  “Stay back as we restrain the prisoner.”

  “Where is he?”

  “The relief station?”

  “He is not here!”

  Footfalls sounded on the metal deck as at least three more aliens entered the room. Adam heard the legs of the cot clang against the floor, having been dropped after checking underneath.

  “Activate an alarm,” someone commanded. “The alien is free.”

  The room turned silent, but not the area outside. Adam heard running and shouting, urgency in the words. Soon the search moved beyond the cell.

  Carefully, Adam leaned the panel towards him and let it pivot until he could slip back into the room. He quietly placed the panel against the studs and felt the magnets lock it into place.

  The door to the cell was open and the camera unrepaired.

  The plan had worked.

  Now what?

  ********

  With his ATD, Adam scanned the area outside the cell for any electrical concentrations that would indicate more surveillance cameras. There were none, just the ones in each of the cells lining the wide corridor.