Children of the Aris: Set in The Human Chronicles Universe

by T. R. Harris

  We will? Sherri asked through her ATD.

  Trust me. Once we’ve taken out Garus’s so-called army, we’ll get the Formation back. Even if he escapes, we’ll let Panur and Lila—and J’nae—worry about him after that. You know, a little immortal-on-immortal action. We just need to get the disks.

  I could go for some hot immortal-on-immortal action, Riyad said.

  “Men,” Sherri said aloud. “Particularly Human men.”

  “You have made a statement?” Kilous asked. “I do not understand.”

  “Don’t worry, major,” Sherri said. “Neither do I.”

  With the troops deployed, Sorark was sent in after Sherri once again put the fear of God in him. The University wasn’t in session at the time; there weren’t enough natives on the planet seeking higher education to make it cost-effective. That would come later, as the population returned to its pre-Kracion level.

  In reality, it made a perfect location for Garus to build the Formation. It had a dedicated power supply, large rooms and spacious grounds protected by a concrete wall defining the area. The domed Central Lecture Hall was in the middle of the facility, next to the Administration Building and science center. Very few Gracilians were on the grounds, making Adam believe they were part of Garus’s security screen. If they were, they were very good at their job, casually strolling between the buildings.

  With skill, the Enforcers moved in and took down the guards, whisking them away to a holding area. The Gracilian then entered the main building, where he was confronted by a single guard. The microphone attached to Sorark’s clothing transmitted the conversation.

  Sorark was cooperative, fearing the non-existent bomb on his back.

  “You are Sorark?” the lone sentry queried.

  “Yes, I am here to meet Crin and the Master.”

  “Were you followed?”

  “No, I was cautious.”

  Trusting his word, the guard nodded and then led Sorark down the sloping runway two levels to a large room below the Lecture Hall. A tiny bug camera revealed no other guards along the way.

  Major Kilous moved in his troops, silently descending the walkway before taking up positions at the three entry doors to the meeting room.

  “This is too easy,” Adam said from the back of one of the trucks that had transported the troops. “One guard to watch the whole place? I’m not buying it.”

  “Since we’ve come this far, we might as well have a look inside,” Riyad said.

  Major Kilous was leading the troops in the building. Adam and his team would let the Enforcers face off against the main force before dealing with Garus. How they would do that hadn’t been worked out yet. They would play it by ear, depending on how many Gracilian troops were on site. So far, there was only the one.

  A bank of small monitors in the truck relayed images from various cameras mounted on Enforcers helmets. The troops were geared up in almost mech outfits, armored from head to toe and carrying Xan-fi flash rifles. Although Gracilians weren’t known as great warriors, those protecting Garus and the Formation were ex-military, a rare breed of native. And if Adam were a judge of their fighting abilities, it could get nasty inside the subterranean meeting hall.

  The door was opened, and Sorark and the other Gracilian entered the room. It was dark inside; even so, Kilous didn’t waste time. He ordered his people to breach.

  From three entrances, the Enforcers rushed into the room, lights on the ends of their rifles stabbing the darkness inside. For a moment, it was hard to see what was happening on the monitors; the light beams chaotic and confusing. From what Adam could see, there were rows of seating surrounding a central stage. But nowhere in the flickering illumination was there the skeletal framework of the Formation; in fact, the room was empty.

  “Where’s Sorark?” Sherri asked through the commlink with Major Kilous.

  “Unknown,” came the answer. “There is nothing here. Wait—a stairway leading down. Sorark exited through there. I will follow—”

  “No, Kilous!” Adam yelled into the microphone. “Get your troops out of there!”

  But the warning came too late.

  The explosion blew out the windows in the Central Lecture Hall before collapsing the dome over the structure. Shattered clumps of concrete and steel fell into the empty chamber, crashing through the floor and onto the room beneath. The building continued to pancake, crushing most of the Enforcers under tons of debris.

  Adam and his team were safe in the back of the truck, although a cloud of ash and dust soon spread to where they were parked a block away. They were out the back a second later, sprinting into the torrent, barely able to see or breathe.

  A few bloody and dust-covered Enforcers staggered from the ruins, hands desperately reaching for help that wasn’t there. As the cloud cleared, Adam could make out a deep hole in the ground where the Lecture Hall once stood. The explosives hadn’t been placed below ground but on the main floor where the falling building would do most of the work. Adam looked around, counting six surviving Enforcers. Four more were on guard duty, watching the Gracilians they’d taken prisoner. Adam now believed them to be innocents, in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that meant thirty of his forty Enforcers were buried below in the rubble. Some may be alive, but none would emerge uninjured.

  Riyad was on a communicator, calling the Garrison, having all military and civilian rescue and medical units sent to the location. Alarms blared from somewhere on the university, and the few Gracilians not caught by the Enforcers before the raid stood gawking at the destruction.

  “How much do you want to bet Sorark and the other Gracilian escaped before the explosion?” Sherri said.

  “Even if they didn’t, it was a sacrifice any devout freedom fighter would gladly accept,” Riyad added.

  “Garus was able to put all this together in ten days,” Adam remarked, coughing as he choked on the dust.

  “This, and probably the Formation, too,” Riyad said. “But he didn’t do it here.”

  “You’re right,” Adam said. “We’ll let the locals take care of this. Let’s get back to the Garrison. Garus knows we’re here and looking for him. We need to find out where he really is and not make such a show out of it when we do. I’m running out of Enforcers.”

  CHAPTER 10

  OVER THE NEXT DAY, Adam, Sherri and Riyad grew increasingly frustrated. They knew Garus was on the planet, while the other two Masters were somewhere else working on their part of the grand plan. Every day that went by gave them more time to put everything together, whatever that thing was.

  After the disaster at the University, there was a lot of mess to clean up. As it turned out, out of the thirty Enforcers caught in the blast, twelve survived, with eight in critical condition. Major Kilous was one of the fortunate ones. He and a colleague had just started down the stairway under the conference room when the ceiling collapsed. He suffered a broken right arm and numerous cuts and bruises. He was back on the job the next day and mad as a viper. With Riyad’s backing, he began recalling every Enforcer that could be spared from orbit to form a response force against Garus and his army of Gracilians. The next time they would be better prepared.

  Panur, Lila and the others still on Navarus took the last DM starship General Oakes had and headed for Gracilia. They anticipated a showdown with the immortals. Besides, they were pissed—especially Panur and Lila—over being abducted. They were looking for a little payback.

  The three Humans on Gracilia still had the problem of trying to figure out where Garus had set up shop. Adam was sure it was the abandoned military/manufacturing facility in the desert, seventy miles to the west. It was perfect.

  The base was built long before Kracion’s time, serving as a headquarters for the Gracilian ambitions for galactic domination. At one time, the Gracilians were the foremost experts on all things Aris. They had the most artifacts and had deciphered more of the ancient technology than anyone, believing themselves to be the rightful heirs to the Aris legacy. They h
ad dark matter collectors and knew how to power equipment with the ubiquitous form of energy. They had learned the secrets of teleportation from the tiny Aris service modules they dissected and reassembled. They designed and built a fleet of six hundred dark-matter warships, which were the most advanced anywhere in the galaxy. They had the pilots, and the war plan worked out. All they were waiting for was the “Go” order.

  In reality, the Gracilians had an excellent chance of making their aspirations come true. And then, in a case of ultimate irony, it was the Mad Aris Kracion who put a stop to everything. Gracilia was one of the first worlds he attacked, with little warning or discrimination. The planet had mere hours to prepare, allowing people like Arik Jroshin to escape with a supply of dark matter collectors.

  It would be five years before Jroshin returned to Gracilia to reinitiate the plans for a galactic war. But this time, he came with a force of knock-off Aris service modules as pilots for the DM warships, of which all six hundred still lay dormant in the underground hangar in the desert. The modules had the ability to teleport, along with a sophisticated level of artificial intelligence. They were based on the internal workings of a particular ancient Aris module called CN-9, or Kanan.

  Unfortunately for Jroshin, Kanan took exception to the constant ‘torture’ the AI was subjected to at the hands of the Gracilians. The module took his revenge on Jroshin and then hijacked the DM fleet for his own plan to resurrect the Aris race.

  Adam was contemplating his life in outer space as he and Sherri were in a small two-person shuttle on the way to check out the base. When stacked one on top of another, he grew weary at the series of events, not only recently but throughout his entire life. He’d have to write a book about it someday—hell, a series of books. But who would believe it? It was too much crap to happen to one person.

  Riyad had stayed behind in Lanacon, putting the final touches on the Enforcer strike force while Adam and Sherri took the one-hour flight. The mutants would be on Gracilia later in the day. Now all they needed was a target.

  Adam was at the controls, coming in low over the rolling hills, heading for the rapidly setting sun of Gracilia. He had the nav system engaged, leading him to the base. The landscape wasn’t anything as he remembered, with less desert and more yellow-green pastureland. The MK fertilization project was working, but it did make it hard for him to recognize landmarks.

  The base was the worst-kept secret on Gracilia. In its day, it was kept hidden from outsiders, although nearly every Gracilian knew of its existence, if not its specific location. It was to be the headquarters from which Gracilian domination of the galaxy would begin and be coordinated. It was the NORAD, the Pentagon and Central Space Command all rolled up into one. Or at least it had been until Kracion.

  Adam had been to the facility twice before but never spent any significant time getting to know the layout. The schematics were still a closely held secret among the natives, although fragments were known. Sherri scanned the density readings on the equipment they’d brought, letting out a soft whistle.

  “This place is a lot bigger than we once thought,” she reported. “I’m picking up readings even this far out.”

  “They not only stored a fleet of six hundred ships here, but they also assembled them,” Adam pointed out. “They had local manufacturers, plus those in other parts of the galaxy, all making parts without knowing what they were for. Then they all got shipped here and made into DM ships. There had to be ways of bringing in all those components and then assembly areas to do the work. In its day, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had ten thousand Gracilians or more working here.”

  “Well, it could handle them, that’s for sure. Are you picking up anything? My learner’s permit ATD isn’t any good for stuff like that. I won’t get a real ATD until daddy Panur thinks I deserve one.”

  Adam chuckled. Sherri and Riyad had been griping about their basic-version ATDs ever since Panur and Lila gave them to them. They figured they’d paid their dues with the devices, having carried the Formilian-designed models within their bodies for several years, even decades. And if that wasn’t insulting enough, the mutants gave Adam the top-of-the-line ATD, the most-advanced model ever devised. Adam savored his unique place in the hearts of the mutants, but he was careful not to rub it in too much with his friends. They really did resent not getting the Cadillac version.

  “I am detecting some signals,” Adam reported, turning serious. “We need to continue for another few minutes before landing. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot. There’s a good bet they have scanners out watching for aircraft.”

  Adam brought the shuttle in along a tangent, making it appear the vessel was only skirting the base and not heading straight for it. They flew for another five minutes, leaving the base's airspace before dropping to barely twenty feet above the rolling landscape and circling back. They landed ten minutes later.

  Sherri was looking for an access scuttle she’d discovered the first time they’d been to the facility. It was an emergency ingress/egress point located about a mile from the main spacecraft hangar.

  As they hiked in, there was nothing to see above ground. To the uninitiated, it was just a broad expanse of semi-arid desert. Even with the fertilizer supplements, this area would never fully transition to useable land; there wasn’t enough rainfall, sheltered as it was by the tall mountain range to the west.

  “This sucks,” Sherri said.

  She and Adam were lying on the cold ground of a low hill, looking down on what appeared to be nothing but barren volcanic soil, now covered in a light coating of sickly-looking grass. The Gracilian sun was just dipping below the mountain range, and the temperature was dropping even more, hastened by the crystal clear sky above.

  “You found the entrance last time; you can do it again,” Adam reassured her.

  “Yeah, but that was a few years ago. Since then, the sand has been blown around. And now this.” She pulled up a small patch of the scrawny grass. “Not much of a desert anymore.”

  “But we do have these,” Adam said, lifting a short wand attached to a small box clipped to his utility belt. “Aren’t you glad I suggested that we bring along metal detectors?”

  For an answer, Sherri waved her wand in the air. The needle jumped on her meter.

  “We already know there’s a massive underground facility here, dickhead. The whole place is made of metal. The readings on the ground aren’t very trustworthy.”

  “The strength of the signal will tell us where the scuttle is.”

  “Well, we can’t very well stake out a grid and start walking it, not out in the open like this. You’re super-duper ATD has already detected flash weapons and machinery running. We know someone’s down there, and they’re watching. Why don’t we just call it a day and come back with the calvary?”

  Exasperated, Adam sighed. “I want to get a look inside, see what we’re up against. I don’t want any surprises, not like the last time. Who knows how many Gracilians have bought into Garus’s bullshit? Just do your best. Try to line up landmarks or something.”

  Sherri scanned the horizon. The sun was setting, dipping below a low mountain range to the west. She racked her brain, trying to figure out how she found the hidden entrance the first time. She didn’t want to admit to Adam that it was pure luck.

  “Okay, it could be farther to the left, just above that depression. I’m sure it wasn’t in a valley. Water might accumulate there and leak in.”

  “Water, in the desert?”

  “Yeah; it does rain in the desert, occasionally. You ever heard of a flash flood?”

  “Okay, let’s go. Dammit. I knew I should have brought Riyad along instead. I’m having trouble dealing with the attitude.”

  “You think I have an attitude—”

  “Never mind. Let’s go. It’ll be dark pretty soon, and then all we’ll have are the metal detectors to guide us.”

  The pair slipped down a shallow slope and then climbed another of the former sand dunes now covered
in the coarse grass. They kept waving their wands over the surface in wide swaths. Their meters showed a constant presence from the buried base beneath their feet.

  “Okay, I’m picking up a stronger signal,” Sherri said.

  Adam moved over next to her. They began a sector search before stopping in front of each other, looking down.

  “This has to be it,” Sherri said.

  Adam stomped his foot on the grass, feeling for something hard and hollow. He was rewarded with a dull clang.

  The pair dropped to their knees, and using K-BAR knives they had with them, began digging into the soft soil.

  A few minutes later, they’d uncovered the circular access hatch and pulled the dirt out from around the wheel that would open the door. Adam tested it. It moved easily.

  “There are electronic circuits connected to the hatch,” Adam announced after scanning with his ATD. “Really faint, so probably just a passive alarm system.”

  “I’m not picking up anything,” Sherri stated before scrunching her lips together. “My ATD isn’t as good as your ATD,” she bitched.

  Adam smirked. “I can bypass the alarm. Now, since I’m the macho, manly hero type, I’ll go in and have a look. You stay here and keep watch, staying in touch with our ATDs. Maybe have dinner ready when I get home.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Adam recoiled. “That’s fine? No big argument about equal rights and all that?”

  “Hey, there’s an army of Gracilians down there, led by an immortal superbeing. I’ll stay up here and work on my tan.”

  “There’s no sun.”

  “My imaginary tan. Now, go. Keep in touch. I’ll relay what you see back to Lanacon; get the calvary heading this way. Oh, and be careful. You’re the famous Adam Cain, and we need you.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Adam said with a grin.

  “Nah, but contractually, I’m obligated to say it once every adventure.”

  After bypassing the alarm circuit with his ATD, Adam spun the wheel and pulled up on the hatch door. He shined a flashlight down the deep shaft. It was dark, with no signs of life. At one time, the base was manned by hundreds of Gracilians, giving them plenty of alien-power to stand guard in the base's more obscure regions. But Garus only had a few days to build an army, move it to the hidden base, and build the Formation.