Alien Games (The Human Chronicles Saga Book 17)

by T. R. Harris

  The mass of Nuoreans moved on, continuing to move slowly throughout the compound. None of the Humans spoke for several minutes, not until Billy Kring stepped forward.

  “I’ll do it,” he announced.

  “Like hell you will!” countered Manny Brown.

  “I’m the captain of the ship; I’ll do it,” said Pierre Savoy.

  “We’re not on your ship anymore, Pierre,” Billy shouted.

  The three men squared off at the center of the covered shelter.

  “Cool it you guys,” Adam said. “We have to look at this logically.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Manny snapped.

  “Who among you has the best shot at victory?”

  In unison they all shouted “I do!”

  “I’ve had a chance to watch the three of you over the past week. Billy is the youngest and in the best shape.”

  “I’ve also done some rodeo in my day.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Pierre asked.

  “It means I can take a beating and keep coming back,” Billy answered.

  “There’s a sad fact we’re missing here,” Adam said. “Daric said someone has to go first. I’m afraid we’re all going to get our turn in the arena.”

  That sobered them up, afterwards it was agreed Billy Kring would face the Nuorean. With the others looking on, Adam began to reveal what he’d observed about the fighting techniques of the aliens. They listened intently, knowing his words could mean the difference between life and death. Later, the three non-combatants relieved Billy of guard duty that night, allowing him to get a full eight hours of rest. How much he actually slept, only Billy knew.

  ********

  There was a buzz in the air the next morning as word spread that a Human was going to be in the arena that day. A group of Nuoreans came in and constructed a small raised viewing platform with an awning for shade. Three chairs were placed atop it. Adam knew one was for Daric, the other two his senior staff.

  When Daric appeared at little later, Adam was surprised. Most of the prior matches had taken place in the afternoon, not late morning. Billy was brimming with excitement, stretching and loosing up.

  Daric stepped up to the shelter.

  “Greetings Adam Cain…and team.” The alien was absolutely ebullient. “I have a special treat for you.” He observed Billy standing nearby, over-following with nervous energy. “Is this your champion?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I’m ready,” Billy answered for Adam.

  “What is your name, I will need it for the introduction?”

  “Billy Kring.”

  “Please relax, Billy Kring. As I mentioned, I have a treat for you, as well as all those within my fleet.” He turned to Adam. “Over the night I researched the meaning of the word undercard you mentioned yesterday. This is not something we practice, yet I found the concept fascinating as it relates to the occupants of the holding center. So I have scheduled an undercard challenge.”

  Daric beamed with enthusiasm, appearing proud of his ability to adjust to local customs, while Adam’s gut tightened into knots, anticipating another of the Humans was to be thrown into the arena.

  Daric continued. “I have noticed a strong dynamic in the Kac—your galaxy—between Humans and a race called Juirean.”

  He was going to pit one of his men against a Juirean! Good.

  “There appears to be an on-going competition between your two races for dominance. I was also interested to learn that the Juireans have long dominated, and that Humans are relative newcomers in this struggle. You have come far in a very short time. An amazing feat. So I have decided to study the abilities of the Juireans in the arena, by placing one against another player-race—the Que’l.”

  Dammit, hopefully not Andic.

  “This type of challenge is unprecedented and will—along with the contest with your Human—be broadcast to my fleet. We know so little of the playing strategy of your various species and the Nuor are anxious to learn from these public displays. It makes us more worthy opponents, something I’m sure you can appreciate. I must note, we normally do not place alien against alien. It is waste of good arena time and no points are awarded. Yet I have not seen either species in combat. Except for a brief skirmish here a few days ago involving the Que’l, neither of the races have been challenged in the holding center. This speaks of the respect—and fear—others have of these two races. Even you Humans have had challengers, all of which you have easily vanquished. Yet not these two. Now I am curious as to why? You are invited to witness the challenge from my platform if you wish.”

  Adam shook his head. “I’d rather stay with my guys.”

  “Understandable. The undercard challenge will begin very soon. After the clean-up, your player will be next. Move to the staging area. I have no way of gauging the duration of the preliminary challenge match.”

  The staging area was a roped off section of dirt outside the open section of the arena barrier that served as the entrance. The Humans were allowed access, along with groups of Juireans and Que’l.

  Andic approached Adam.

  “I am to represent the Que’l.” His round eyes were full of fire and excitement. The Que’l are a warrior race, substituting their savage and brutal Drunage games for bloody and costly wars. Millions of natives attend the contests, with the players enjoying celebrity status among the masses. Every young Que’l grows up playing Drunage in hopes of one day making it to the games as a professional.

  What made the species so deadly was their huge block heads. Rising up above the eyes by a good eighteen inches was an anvil-shaped mass of solid bone, covered by a thin layer of skin and devoid of any nerve endings. They felt no pain when ramming the heavy blocks into their opponents, propelled on thick, muscular legs. The Juireans were badasses in their own right, but Adam wasn’t about to place any money against the Que’l. He hated to admit it, but he was curious to see who would emerge victorious.

  The players were summoned to the center of the ring. Attending Nuoreans provided each with sword and net and then left the arena. There was no referee present.

  A towering Juirean Overlord stepped next to Adam at the arena barrier.

  “I know of you, Human. Who of my race doesn’t?”

  “This isn’t the time or the place,” Adam said. “Right now it’s us against them.”

  “I concur, yet if this is the traditional style of fighting in which the Nuoreans engage, we Juireans will have a natural advantage. We have trained with bladed weapons for thousands of years. This is not new to us. Victory will come to the Juireans.”

  Adam looked up at the blue-maned alien. “Don’t you get it? Even if you win in the arena against the Nuoreans, there’s no end to it. They’ll just keep scheduling more challenges until you’re all dead. There’s no winning on our side.”

  “That may be so, but we will take many Nuoreans with us.”

  “Not enough to make a difference. We have to confront the Nuoreans as a unified force, not as a bunch of squabbling individual races. Try looking at the big picture for once.”

  “I know not of this picture you refer to.”

  “No you wouldn’t, would you?”

  Daric began to speak, interrupting the conversation between Human and Juirean.

  “To all my fellow Nuoreans watching on this planet and the fleet in space, I present to you the opportunity to witness two exciting challenges for your pleasure and study. The first is an exclusive and unique contest between two of the prominent species in the Kac Galaxy. This match will be followed immediately by another challenge, one between Third-Player Linoc (611) Kallen-Noc and a member of the Human species with the individual title of Billy Kring. Humans have been tentatively placed at the top of the challenge-factor in the Kac, and as such, Linoc (611) shall gain bonus immunity points for this contest, which is to take place outside a formal challenge arena. Now enjoy the contests, knowing that soon your time will come as well.”

  He turned his attenti
on to the arena before him, now surrounded by over a thousand aliens—nearly everyone left in the compound. “You may begin!”

  ********

  The Que’l have unnaturally short arms for their large bodies, and they’re not used to using weapons in combat. Their battering-ram head is the only weapon they need. So like a two-legged bull, Andic charged at the Juirean, his sword and net still gripped in his hands yet not part of the initial gambit.

  The Juirean was a green-haired Guard, one of the soldiers of the race. He watched the running alien with steely-eyed concentration, before moving quickly to his left at the last second, avoiding Andic’s massive head by inches. The Juirean spun like a matador, swinging the net and slicing sideways with the sword with precision and speed. The blade contacted the back of the Andic’s head as he sped past, separating the thin skin while rebounding off the hard bone, causing no damage.

  Andic skidded to stop in a cloud of brown dust, turning back to face his opponent. The Juirean calmly paced back and forth in front of him, using precise steps. His eyes never left Andic, even as his body shifted from one direction to the other.

  Adam saw his Que’l friend grip the sword tighter, swinging it back and forth to his right. He charged again.

  The Juirean remained in the line of attack until the last moment. Then he jumped. Andic had lowered his head and came in about four feet off the ground, allowing the Juirean to clear the rampaging Que’l with ease. Andic swung his sword through empty air at the flying alien, causing him to lose his balance. He wasn’t used to doing two things at once in a battle.

  In the meantime, the Juirean swept down with his sword and split open a portion of Andic’s back. Blood poured out of the wound, but it didn’t seem to faze the Hulk-like alien. He spun around and met the Juirean before the Guard was ready. Contact was finally made, sending the Juirean reeling backwards. He fell on his back as Andic charged forward once more.

  The Juirean rolled to his right, casting out the net he held in his left hand as Andic ran past. It twirled around the Que’l’s thick legs, tripping the huge alien and opening up numerous cuts from the spikes embedded at the far end of the net.

  Andic landed face first in a thick layer of powdery dirt. He rolled onto his back and began to fight to release the netting from his legs. The Juirean was on his feet now and moving toward the Que’l. Blood dripped from the Guard’s mouth from the savage hit he’d suffered when Andic delivered his blow; Adam wouldn’t be surprised if he also had internal injuries. But still he came, a fierce fire in his eyes and the sword held confidently in his right hand.

  Andic was unable to free his legs from the net. It was tangled on the spikes, forming a secure restraint—as it was meant to do. He lifted his sword in defense, but it wouldn’t be enough against his taller and longer-armed opponent.

  The Juirean swatted at Andic’s sword, forcing his short arm out to the right, exposing the Que’l soft front torso to the alien. With two lightning quick swipes, the Juirean split open Andic’s chest. But he wasn’t done. He stood up straighter and twirled the blade with his wrist before taking the hilt in both hands and driving the tip deep into the center of Andic’s chest. The Que’l’s eyes grew wide and air escaped through a gaping mouth. His eyes fluttered shut.

  The Juirean stepped back and swung his arm out at his fallen foe, in some form of ritualized gesture—Juirean…not Nuorean.

  A horn sounded.

  “Excellent contest!” Daric’s voice bellowed from speakers on the viewing platform. “Indeed, Juireans shall rate among the elite players of the Kac. Well-played. Your immunity points will be impressive. Now clear the arena for the next challenge.”

  The victorious Juirean walked proudly to the staging area. As he came closer, Adam could see the unfocused nature of his eyes and the queasiness with which he walked. He was injured, but not enough to save Andic.

  He was greeted by the Overlord and two other Guards as a conquering hero. They placed him on a wooden seat, strong hands helping to hold him upright. They didn’t want anyone to know the extent of his injuries.

  Adam turned to Billy Kring. “This is it, buddy. You ready?”

  “Damn right! Looking forward to bashing some Nuorean noggins.”

  “Remember what I told you. It’s going to get hairy out there. Just keep your head in the game and you’ll be okay.”

  “And now I present a level-one immunity challenge, the first of its kind in the Kac. Bring in the challenged.”

  No one moved, not until Nuorean eyes turned to the Humans. Billy was obviously the challenged, with the Nuorean being the challenger. It didn’t matter. Billy and Adam shook hands, after which the tall Texan bumped fists with Pierre and Manny.

  At the center of the arena he was given a sword and net, as had the others.

  A row of Nuoreans opened up between the arena and the main gate to the compound, through which a confident young alien strode, already armed with a sword and net of his own. His face was animated, golden eyes wider than any Adam had seen. He entered the arena and stopped before the viewing platform.

  “Master, I thank you for the glorious opportunity,” the young Nuorean announced.

  Daric nodded and smiled. “As way of background, I have met young Linoc (611) in the arena myself. I know his abilities. He is a skillful player who will demonstrate to all what a Third-Level Player is capable of. To Nuor everywhere, he is a player to admire. Take your place, Linoc (611).”

  The alien walked up to Billy, looking into his eyes with amusement and confidence. He turned until they both faced Daric. The referee moved between them and raised his arms to his side, pointing at the two combatants.

  “Begin!” said Daric. The arms came down and the match was underway.

  Linoc and Billy were about the same size, and just as stocky. They separated by about ten feet and then assumed defensive stances, both with swords held out in front of them and the nets dangling from their hands. However, Billy was left-handed. Adam watched Linoc’s eyes as he assessed this information. He could sense the tactical mind of the experienced warrior adjusting his game plan for this unexpected development.

  The pair began to circle one another, Billy shuffling his feet sideways and kicking up a small cloud of dust, while the alien moved with smooth, foot-over-foot steps. Then Linoc struck, lifting his sword high over his head and bringing it down at a steep angle toward Billy’s midsection. It was the fastest move Adam had seen any Nuorean make.

  Billy stumbled backwards, out of range of the blade, even as he stuck out his sword to make contact with the whizzing metal edge of the alien’s weapon. Linoc spun around, adding speed and power to the next strike as he uncoiled. Now Billy was in full-scale retreat, running away with his sword held out behind him.

  Linoc didn’t make chase. Instead he twirled his sword in his wrist and smiled, pacing back and forth, yet taking precise steps ever closer to where Billy stood, pressed against the outer barrier of the arena.

  Letting his animal anger take over, Billy opened his mouth and roared, pushing off the barrier and charging at the Nuorean, swinging his blade out in front while dragging the net in the dirt behind him.

  The unconcerned alien promptly stepped back and performed a perfect backflip as Billy—and Adam—had been expecting. When he landed and squared up for the attack coming from the front, he was surprised when his opponent wasn’t there. Instead, Billy had used his Human speed in the light gravity to shift direction. He was now on the alien’s right, coming at him with his sword moving in a blur.

  Linoc was good; he had to be in order to shift his sword in time to meet Billy’s. Still, the impact caused him to stagger back and fall to the ground. He rolled to his left just as Billy’s blade impaled the dirt next to his head. The Human lifted the sword again.

  Linoc’s vandish net flew out, the spiked end slapping against the back of Billy’s legs. He cried out and spun away, blood already soaking the back of his torn jeans.

  The alien popped to his feet. He was
more cautious now, content to stay back and circle his adversary. Gone, too, was the confident smile.

  Billy was mad. He took his own vandish and twirled it high above his head, like a lasso. Then he lashed out at the alien several times, causing Linoc to back away. It was Billy’s turn to chase the alien around the arena.

  Linoc then swung his own vandish into the air, causing both nets to weave together. Billy pulled, sending the Nuorean flying through the air before landing in a puff of brown dust. Linoc released the net and regained his footing, just in time to parry three powerful swipes of Billy’s blade.

  The players separated. Linoc gnashed his teeth in his own show of anger and frustration. He regained his composure a moment later, standing straight and weighing the deadly sword in his hand. Billy had let go of his net, and now stood only with ressnel blade as a weapon. He backed away as Linoc stepped forward, using practiced moves to the left and right. The Human did his best to counter the swipes of the blade, but one got through, slicing open a wound on Billy’s left shoulder.

  And that’s when Billy shifted the sword to his other hand—his right hand. He tried a fancy wrist twirl himself and actually managed to pull it off. He smiled.

  The alien looked confused, but only for a moment. He charged again.

  Billy—a natural right-hander—now had an easier time countering the alien. But then Linoc fainted to the left and moved right, placing himself within Billy’s arm reach until the combatants were only inches apart. That’s when Billy planted a strong left cross to the side of the alien’s head.

  Linoc staggered backwards, swinging his sword out in front of him until the cobwebs cleared. The shocked look on his face suggested to Adam that Nuoreans weren’t used to using fisticuffs during their challenges. Without a referee in the arena, Adam figured anything was fair game.

  Billy countered another of the high strikes from the alien and stepped in closer. He used the fist gripping his sword to crush Linoc’s nose. The alien fell back again. This time Billy got too cocky. The tip of the Nuorean’s blade made a thin slice across the Human’s chest. It wasn’t deep, but it was bloody.