Mission Critical

by T. R. Harris

  “Stop it!” he heard Sherri cry out from somewhere nearby. Now he would have to open his eyes. He had to save his girlfriend from the alien horde.

  But it wasn’t a horde of aliens, only three. Two were holding menacing looking flash weapons—undoubtedly set at level-one. The other was smiling down at him through yellow teeth and radiant red lips. It was Frandon G’Bur.

  “My old friend Copernicus Smith,” the alien said. He spoke with a slight vibrato, more a gargling sound than anything. “Please recover quickly; we have so much to speak of.”

  Coop forced his way into a sitting position on the wide, armless cushion that served as an alien couch. “It would be easier if you hadn’t hit me so hard.” He looked over at a red-face Sherri Valentine, who sat in chair not far away, glaring up at one of the guards. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, if this bug-like thing will stop poking me. I’m not trying to escape, just fix my hair.”

  “You look beautiful, my dear.”

  She flipped him off.

  Copernicus looked at the leader of the Gradis Cartel. “So, Frandon, what do you want to talk about, the weather?”

  The alien frowned. “No matter how much contact I have with Humans I will never understand your speech patterns. No, I do not want to speak of the weather, but rather of a dark matter collector and the millions of credits we will receive for its sale. I want to thank you for bringing it to me. There had been rumors of a theft of a valuable ancient artifact, and when I researched, I learned the true nature of the device. Again, I thank you.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d pay us a commission for bringing it to Navior? It only seems fair.”

  “If you were still in my employ, that might be considered. But now that I know of your true affiliation while infiltrating the Cartel, I believe traitors and spies deserve nothing…not even their lives.”

  “So why are we still alive?”

  Frandon laughed. “Because it is pointless to kill unconscious creatures. It is better to revive them so they are aware of the fate that awaits them.”

  “That makes sense, but I’d really like to stick around to see how much you get for the collector. That would really make me sick, seeing how many credits I just lost.”

  “That I lost, too,” Sherri said.

  “Of course…that we lost.”

  “A form of mental torture?” Frandon asked, appearing intrigued. “The idea is of interest. However, you are Humans, and Humans have a habit of turning misfortune into opportunity. Yes, I know of the exploits you have shared recently with the famous Adam Cain.” He turned to Sherri. “And Sherri Valentine, you are nearly as famous as your species mate. My friend Copernicus Smith has long to go before he equals that of even your notoriety.”

  He waved his arms at the huge room they were in, with the light of early morning streaming in through bronze-tinted windows. “And you did manage to reach all the way here, and within hours of your ship being taken. That is impressive…as well as troubling. It is all the more reason I should end your lives now.”

  “Ah, c’mon, Frandon,” Coop said. “Keep us around awhile just to toy with us.”

  “Toy?”

  “Play with, tease…even torture, as you said. It’ll be fun. When was the last time you had fun?”

  The alien stared at Coop with an amused expression. “Perhaps you are right. I have never killed a Human before. I should savor the experience. Very well, you may live until the sale of the collector is finalized. Then I will kill you.”

  “That works for me.” Copernicus beamed. He looked at Sherri. “How about you?”

  “Works for me, too. So when does all this selling begin?”

  Aliens can be so gullible sometimes, Copernicus thought. Frandon G’Bur was no exception.

  The Humans were locked away in a side room, which actually meant the two guards were stationed outside with flash weapons, since none of the doors had locks.

  “I wish my ATD still worked,” Sherri whispered.

  “That’s okay, mine does,” said Copernicus. “And as you saw aboard the MK ship, I am getting better at it.”

  “Anything you can tell me?”

  “Six flash weapons in the penthouse, but only two are moving. The rest must be stored away or in drawers. No locks on the doors, but I don’t think it would do us any good to take out the guards. We’d have to fight all the way to the ground floor after that, and we still don’t know where the DMC is.”

  There was a window in the room that overlooked the Cartel complex toward the spaceport. From here they could plan an escape route—once they made it out of the building.

  The DMC was the size of a large suitcase and surprisingly light for something that could pull dark matter particles out of the air and place them into secure holding cubes made of an unknown substance. They’d never heard of any raw material having to be fed into the machine, so they had no idea where the containment material came from. But the supply the collector had within it seemed to do the trick. Either one of the Humans could carry the collector with ease, especially in the light gravity of Navior.

  If necessary, they had already decided to leave the supply of cubes behind. Without the main device, they were useless—or at least that’s what they hoped. The collector was the most valuable item, maybe not as much without the cubes, but who was counting? Anything they could get at this point was more than they had.

  10

  Two hours later Frandon had the guards escort the prisoners to another part of the penthouse dome. It was a large room, with expansive windows and patio doors, and filled with the pale yellow light of early dawn on the planet Navior.

  A comm center was placed along the inner wall, with a huge display screen—easily measuring ten feet square—and a control console set to one side. A table was placed before the screen, telling Sherri and Coop that a lot of Cartel business was conducted from this room. On a side table was the dark matter collector and the satchel holding the cube containers. A mesh screen now covered both items.

  The giant video screen was active, and broken into six sections. Although Coop’s side of the prior links was audio-only, the receiver’s signals came in with video, so Coop recognized most of the faces on the screen—which now included a Human. A smaller inset square showed the room they were in, facing out from the CW apparatus. The signal seemed clear and static-free.

  The smaller screen showed the guards as they led Sherri and Copernicus into the room to be placed in chairs set to the side of the table. The Human on the larger screen took note.

  “Is that Sherri Valentine?” asked the square-jawed man with graying hair.

  From his place at the table, Frandon turned to look at his prisoners. “Yes it is. She and Copernicus Smith were so kind as to assign me the task of completing the negotiations for the dark matter collector.”

  “And who are we now bidding with?” asked the representative of the Maris-Kliss weapons company. “We had a prior ratified agreement with the Humans to sell us the collector.”

  “And then you screwed us over!” Sherri yelled out. “If you’d just paid us, none of this would be happening.”

  “Please, Sherri Valentine, calm yourself,” said Frandon, amused by the outburst. He looked at the screen. “You will be negotiating with me—”

  “Are you all right, Ms. Valentine?” the Human asked, interrupting Frandon.

  “Nothing a squad of badass Marines couldn’t cure. You’re not planning a rescue, are you? We could sure use one about now.”

  The man seemed confused and a little embarrassed. “I’m afraid there is nothing I can do.”

  “That’s okay; it was rhetorical. You’re here to buy a dark matter collector, not to save a damsel in distress from the evil Gradis Cartel.”

  The man on the screen murmured something unintelligible before Frandon put a stop to the conversation.

  “Enough. We are here for business. Once concluded, the fate of Sherri Valentine and Copernicus Smith will be of no signif
icance. Put them out of your mind.”

  The alien surveyed the anxious and angry faces of those on the screen. The negotiations had gone on for too long already, and now the Cartel leader had placed them all on a conference link so they could bid against each other. They were not happy with the arrangement.

  Bornadin Xoo-lin, the representative from the Xan-fi confederation, leaned in close to his screen. “Will there be no more disruptions? We wish to conclude these proceedings here and now. Can we be assured there will be no more need for additional sessions after this?”

  Frandon waved a hand at the dark matter collector. “Prior CW links have been plagued by interference from the collector itself,” he began. “I contacted the Gracilians and they devised a shield for the device that negates some of the effects, at least temporarily. We shall have time to complete the negotiations, as well as a means of transporting the unit to the ultimate winner. You are now dealing with the Gradis Cartel. We know how to conduct business. Does that satisfy your questions, Xoo-lin?”

  Sherri and Copernicus looked at each other. The damping shield will have to go with them. That would be a permanent solution to both the gravity drive and their CW problems. Although they were being held prisoner atop a thousand-foot-tall building at the power center of the Gradis Cartel, things were looking up.

  Adam took the CW link from Jym just as he was approaching Navior. He had studied the planet and learned where the main Cartel force was located. Copernicus only needed a CW facility, which could be found anywhere on the planet. He would avoid the Cartel capital like the plague.

  "I have located Sherri!” the excitable little bear reported. “In a video link.”

  “Where?” Adam’s pulse jumped. Was she here, or somewhere else? And the fact that her image was showing up in a CW link meant she was alive and well.

  “She is on Navior, as you suspected, in a city called Vansis.”

  Vansis was the headquarters of the Cartel. What was she doing there?

  “Send me the coordinates. I’ll change my flight plan and get permission to land. How old is this information?”

  “Minutes. I still have the two images of Sherri and Copernicus in the program. Her name was also spoken. I contacted you as soon as the data was filtered.”

  “Well done, Jym! Well done. I’ll let you know what I find when I reach the surface. And get Kaylor headed my way as fast as possible, just in case.”

  11

  The bidding got underway and quickly climbed to one hundred million credits. Frandon sat back and let the participants haggle with each other, some trying to form coalitions who would share the technology. These affiliations mainly involved power companies joining with a weapons manufacturer, rather than two of the same industry banding together. The Cartel boss was absolutely giddy at the results.

  The session only lasted ten minutes before the bidding came to a close. The galactic arms leader Maris-Kliss joined with Fazon, the chief maker of cold fusion reactors, to come in at one hundred eight million credits. The others couldn’t match it, not even the Human who none of the others were willing to partner with. No one trusted Humans and Humans didn’t trust the aliens.

  As the frustrated losers continued to complain, Copernicus eyed the dark matter collector. Through his ATD he’d identified the firing circuits in the guards’ MK’s, as well as the alarms, closed circuit cameras and comm devices on the floor, everything that could be used to alert the building when they made their move. The bidding was over, and soon Frandon would make good on his promise to kill him and Sherri. He might even do it in front of an audience on the CW comm. It would show the rest of the galaxy the power of the Cartel.

  Coop reached over and took Sherri’s hand, squeezing it once. She knew what was coming.

  And then Copernicus heard the voice in his head.

  Coop, it’s Adam. I’m detecting your ADT. Can you hear me?

  “Of course I can,” he mumbled softly before consciously making the telepathic connection with Adam. Coop still wasn’t used to the process.

  Sherri looked at him and frowned. He mouthed the name Adam.

  Sherri’s eyes grew wide. The prisoners looked to the sentries, curious if all their mumbling and strange facial expressions had alerted them that something was up. The guards were watching them, frowning, but hadn’t made any moves, not with Frandon finalizing the sale of the collection device and the other six beings still active on the CW screen.

  I can hear you, Copernicus thought, fighting hard not to mouth the words as they formed in his head.

  Are you and Sherri all right?

  For now. We’re in the top dome. I suppose you know about the dark matter collector. The head of the Cartel has just wrapped up the bidding for the device. Sherri and I are going to take it. Where are you?

  I’m above you in a delta-shaped spacecraft. I’m going to set it down in the courtyard outside the building. Can you get to me?

  I don’t know, that’s pretty far to go. How about outside? There’s a balcony surrounding the dome.

  That’s better. I’ll sweep in and you two jump on the wing. Watch the exhaust.

  All right, Copernicus thought. I’ve neutralized the weapons in the room. Get ready. We’re going now.

  Coop squeezed Sherri’s hand again, this time as he jumped from the chair and crashed into the guard nearest him. Sherri took the other one. The aliens were of a race neither of them had seen before, huge creatures with two main sets of arms and two smaller ones underneath. They also had almost no neck, just thick shoulders and block head. They were strong, if not very intelligent. They needed to be.

  Coop managed to catch his guard by surprise, knocking him to the ground before laying a balled fist into the side of his head. To the Human’s surprise, the beast shrugged off the hit and tossed Copernicus to the side. He recovered his lost weapon, turned it on Coop and pulled the trigger. The alien’s mistake was relying too much on the MK to stop the Human. As he fumbled with his useless weapon, he became a sitting duck for Coop’s powerful blow to his midsection. This time the alien reacted to the hit, doubling over and groaning. Coop lifted a metal chair and smashed it down on the guard’s head. He dropped to his knees, where Coop finished him off with a second hit.

  Sherri came face-to-face with the weapon of the second guard, who like the other, was shocked to learn that the MK was dead. Momentarily distracted by the malfunctioning weapon, Sherri was able to slip around the guard and wrap a strong arm around the alien’s neck. She was much shorter than the beast, but he bent as she applied pressure. All four of his arms were grasping at her, but she was able to walk him backwards while squeezing harder on his throat. The guard fell to the floor, still gasping for breath. Sherri released him at the last second and dropped a sharp elbow into the center of his thick face. Bones cracked and the already flat nose became non-existent, now just a deep cavity filling quickly with blood.

  Copernicus jumped up and ran for the table where Frandon sat in shock at the sudden attack on his guards. He dropped a shoulder into the alien’s chest and sent him tumbling ass-over-head before landing on his stomach, dazed and coughing.

  The two Humans met at the table with the DMC. Sherri took the covering grid and the satchel, while Coop took the main device. Then just before heading for the door to the outside balcony, Copernicus turned to the shocked viewers on the CW screen and said: “Get your checkbooks ready. We’ll be in touch.”

  Then they were outside, clutching their prizes in the cool morning air of Navior, waiting for Adam Cain to descend from the Heavens.

  Chemical landing jets weren’t designed for delicate maneuvers. They came into play during the final leg of a landing, once the ship became too close to the surface to safely use gravity drive. Then a final burst of gas and the ship would settle to the ground. Using the chem drive to hover outside a building without destroying it was proving to be problematic, and especially in a starship with unfamiliar controls. As the ship approached the building in a cloud of fire an
d smoke, it dawned on Adam that he’d never landed the Gracilian ship before. This was the first time he’d even fired the chem drive. It would be a miracle if he didn’t burn his friends to ashes, and with them the destructive dark matter collector.

  At that point, who would care? They’d all be dead anyway.

  Sherri and Coop were outside the dome, carrying objects Adam assumed were the dark matter collector and the sack of containment cubes, fighting against the heat and smoke of the chem jets, trying to get closer to the railing. It was hard enough keeping the ship level, let alone pilot it close to a building a thousand feet in the air. Now he sent the sharp tip of the starboard wing crashing into the balcony, sending a large section cascading to the next layer of domes below.

  Unfortunately, Sherri and Coop went with it.

  They rode the section of hardened foam along the side of the lower dome until it embedded itself into the thin roof of the next level down. The Humans slid off, falling hard to the balcony that encircled this level. They were safe for the moment, even as the dark matter collector fell over the side and wedged itself in the depression between two other domes on the level below.

  Sherri rushed to the railing and looked over. The gravity of Navior was about three-quarters that of Earth, so she catapulted herself over the side and slid down the curved roof of the dome until she landed in the confluence where the unit now rested.

  Sherri had the device on one level, while Coop held the bag of cubes and a thin wire cage in his hands on another. He dropped down to Sherri’s level, sliding on his butt along the curvature of the lower dome.

  Adam shoved the port side wing into the dome, ten feet below where Sherri and Copernicus clung to their precious cargo. A moment later, Coop was on the wing, having jumped from above. He fell to his belly and took hold of a small navigation light to keep from sliding off. The ship bucked, causing the wing to rip upwards, tearing more of the dome apart. As it did, the wing lifted more…and Sherri took the collector and literally walked onto the wing.