Alien Games

The Human Chronicles Saga - Book #17

T.R. Harris

In this alien universe, WE are the supermen

Copyright 2016

by Tom Harris Creations, LLC

All rights reserved.*

Three free books

No kidding. 3 FREE BOOKS, simply for signing up for my Fan Email List.

Just fill out the Subscribe form here.

Novels by T.R. Harris

The Adam Cain Saga

The Dead Worlds

Empires

Battle Plan

Galactic Vortex

Dark Energy

Universal Law

The Formation Code

The Quantum Enigma

Children of the Aris

The Human Chronicles

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

The Cain Legacy

The Andromeda Mission

Last Species Standing

Invasion Force

Force of Gravity

Mission Critical

The Lost Universe

The Immortal War

Destroyer of Worlds

Phantoms

Terminus Rising

The Last Aris

The Human Chronicles Box Set Series

Box Set #1 – Books 1-5 in the series

Box Set #2 – Books 6-10 in the series

Box Set #3 – Books 11-15 in the series

Box Set #4 – Books 16-20 in the series

Box Set #5—Books 21-25 in the series

REV Warriors Series

Rev

REV: Renegades

REV: Rebirth

REV: Revolution

REV: Retribution

REV Warriors Part 2

REV: Revelations

REV: Resolve

REV Warriors Series Part 1 Box Set - The COMPLETE Series (5 books)

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 Co-Author George Wier…

The Liberation Series

Captains Malicious

Available exclusively on Amazon.com and FREE to members of Kindle Unlimited.

Cast of Characters…

Adam Cain:

Our hero. When the aliens abducted a Navy SEAL, they had no idea they’d bitten off more than they could chew. Now freed from his captives, Adam has spent the past twenty years making the aliens pay for upsetting his comfortable life back on Earth, earning him the moniker of ‘The Alien with an Attitude.’ With Humans evolving on a heavy-gravity world, Adam discovers he’s faster, stronger and more coordinated than most of the aliens he encounters, making him—and his fellow Humans—the creatures to fear throughout the galaxy. And now, through a series of challenges and missions, Adam and his band of loyal warriors defend both the Earth and the galaxy against a multitude of threats, both alien and home-grown. Join Adam and his intrepid band of heroes for their latest escapades.

Riyad Tarazi:

Another abductee by the evil aliens known as the Klin, Riyad was once a high-ranking freedom fighter/terrorist back on Earth. Once free to roam an area of the Milky Way known as the Fringe, Riyad deftly uses his skills to climb the ranks of the Fringe Pirates, before becoming their feared and ruthless leader. Then he meets Adam Cain—first as enemies, then as friends—and his whole life changes. Throughout the years, the two friends have saved each other’s butts more times than they want to admit. Now they’re the most-deadly Human duo in the Milky Way Galaxy.

Sherri Valentine:

Once a young and carefree veterinary student Phoenix, Arizona, Sherri took a fateful jog one evening and ended up like the others—as an alien abductee. Yet once she escapes, she goes on to make a very good living as an alien assassin, working for various cartels and criminal organizations in the Fringe. After hooking up with Adam and Riyad, she’s gone on to become one of the ‘Big Three’ Human heroes, known and feared throughout the galaxy. She’s beautiful, pragmatic—and deadly.

Kaylor & Jym:

These two aliens were dealt a strange hand of fate when they rescued Adam Cain from certain death aboard a booby-trapped Klin starship. Over the years, the pair of galactic scoundrels have accompanied Adam and the Humans on many an adventure, and in the process become Adam’s closest alien friends.

Copernicus Smith:

Passing himself off as a pragmatic starship repairman—specializing in servicing the Milky Way’s criminal element—Copernicus hides a secret which makes him one of the deadliest Human operatives in the galaxy. Affiliated now with Adam Cain, he’s become a vital part of the team, helping to round out its lethal effectiveness.

Arieel Bol:

Recognized as ‘The Most Beautiful Female in the Galaxy,” Arieel is the quasi-religious leader of the planet Formil. She’s also the mother of Lila, an immortal, mutant genius, who was the result of an inter-species union between her and Adam Cain—something the specialists said could never happen. Now as on-again, off-again lovers, Arieel and Adam are the only two beings in the galaxy carrying Artificial Telepathy Devices (ATD’s) implanted under their skin. These brain-interface modules enable the control of electronic devices, such as lights, doors, computers—and energy weapons—as well as telepathic communications between the two. Arieel’s arrogant, spoiled—and drop-dead gorgeous.

Alien Games…

Adam Cain and his team face off against the Nuoreans—invaders from the Andromeda Galaxy—whose entire society is built around gladiator-like contests, between not only their own people, but alien races as well. Seeking new challenges, the Nuoreans find a way to link with the Milky Way through the use of a gigantic gravity-well, making jumps between the two galaxies in mere seconds.

Unlike any enemy Adam has ever faced, the Nuoreans revel in the challenge of combat and gamesmanship. They even welcome defeat, as this only means there’s a worthy opponent for them to out-maneuver and overcome. They have no fear or anxiety. To the Nuoreans, there is no such thing as defeat—just delayed victory.

Early in their plans to invade the Milky Way, the Nuoreans recognized Humans as their ultimate challenge—and Adam Cain as the top player (warrior) they must face. Now Adam and his team not only have to save themselves from the Andromeda invaders, but all the other advanced species in the galaxy.

And to complicate matters, Adam must also rescue his kidnapped mutant daughter Lila from an alien race over three billion years old who possess technology far beyond anything that exists today. The mission seems impossible…but it has to be undertaken. It’s just what heroes do.

Together, Adam and his band of intrepid warriors take on their greatest enemy—and journey to where no Human has gone before.

Contents

Prologue

Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Next up for Adam Cain and crew…

Three free books

Facebook Fan Group

Novels by T.R. Harris

Prologue

Have you seen the future?

Yes, and I am concerned.

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

As 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 acquired 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 Daric 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.”

Daric 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….

Chapter 1

“He is called Adam Cain.”

“A Grand-Master?”

“No, simply a player—yet they call them warriors in the Kac.”

Daric (416) was taken aback. “One individual…for of an entire galaxy? Surely he must be a game leader, commanding a team of considerable size?”

“A team has been mentioned, yet it is only comprised of a few, five others at the most.”

The information was conflicted. The language translators prevalent throughout the Kac Galaxy had been breached cycles ago, allowing the Nuor to decipher the information they were receiving with high confidence. Thousands of passive drones were constantly being sent through the Compressor, tasked with gaining even more data on the inhabitants of their neighboring island of stars. This data was then relayed to the jump point, and every three days sent back to Nuor for analysis. Already they knew much about the Kac, including tactics and strategies that would be employed once the invasion began.

Most of the information received was encouraging. As expected, there was an abundance of advanced life in the Kac Galaxy, yet with a complexity within their interactions that spoke of a community even more connected than that of the Suponac. There didn’t appear to be as many stellar empires as there were—or had been—within the Nuorean home galaxy, but the ones they did detect were of a grander scale.

The probes had detected no less than five of these affiliations, including two major, although at the moment they appeared to be melding into one galaxy-wide unit. This opened up the possibility for major games, using fleets as players more than individual contests. This would provide the crewmembers aboard the Nuorean ships the opportunity to earn immunity points with each victory, although fewer than could be gained through single games.

The timetable for the invasion was planned around a major event taking place within the Kac. A majority of the advances species would be in attendance, making Daric’s job easier than if he had to journey to each individual planet to gather test subjects.

Daric welcomed the deadline. It gave him and his people a goal to reach, an opportunity to exploit.

He was ready, as were the Nuor.

Yet here was this creature, this Adam Cain. Daric refused to believe that a single creature could have the skill and ability to be rated the most-proficient player—warrior—out of thousands of advanced species. The diversity of lifeforms made it nearly impossible for an individual to gain such status. It was Daric’s primary responsibility to rate the advanced species of the Kac so immunity scores could be assigned for the upcoming contests, and no matter how high his individual challenge-factor may be, Adam Cain would be but a single event. Granted, the immunity points for such a game would be incredible, yet there would be no carry-over. Not unless his entire race was as such….

“He is a Human, is this correct?”

“Yes,” replied Data-Tech Gandish (316) Kallen-Noc. “His race maintains one of the stellar empires, however it is nowhere near the largest.”

“Why not? Is not his race proficient gamers?”

“Still unknown, yet in the case of Adam Cain, his name is mentioned among hundreds of races above all others, even though he is a Human. He is known through all of the Kac.”

“Place the Humans at the top of the list,” Daric commanded. “How many does that make?”

“Thirteen, so far,” Gandish replied. “It is a start.”

Daric took the databox from his subordinate. He read the names on the list: Human, Juirean, Formilian, Klin, Kracori, Silean, Rigorian, Castorian, Que’l, Belsonian, Dal’ish, Incus and Nac. And these were just the major species the probes had identified, even before his fleet arrived. Daric reflected for a moment. His own galaxy had many more advanced species, so he was sure others would be found once he made the jump.

He dismissed Gandish so he could absorb the information from the briefing before meeting with Team-Master Falon. In spite of this odd bit of information, Daric’s mission was coming into focus. He felt more confident; his prospects better defined.

In order to gain high immunity scores an alien race need not be the leader of an empire, merely a star-traveling species with a level of military strength making the games competitive. Each would be graded upon their challenge-factor, with appropriate immunity points awarded. It was Daric’s job to determine the challenge-factor. He would accomplish his task through a series of blind and visible contests, as well as staged military engagements.

The Nuor had been conducting such tests for thousands of years, yet only within their own galaxy. Now after all that time, many of their high-factor races had been vanquished, almost to the point where there were very few immunity contests left. For an ambitious Nuorean like Daric—as well as young Linoc (611)—this limited his potential.

Yet presented before him would be an entire galaxy full of unchallenged species, some of which—apparently—were comprised of great players. The potential for acquiring immunity points was unlimited.

If all went according to plan, Daric would return to his home galaxy with enough acquired immunity points to challenge any of the Qualifying-Masters, and without consequence for failure. He may even be able to advance further, to the Grand-Master level itself. That was his dream. Yet time now protected the current Grand-Masters. With so few immunity races in existence, their positions were secure—at least that was what they believed.

It had taken overwhelming effort and influence for the GM’s to agree to the Kac Incursion Project. Once underway, it would open up the Masters to a multitude of challenges, as hordes of Nuor returned from the Kac, overflowing with an abundance of immunity points. Yet the GM’s were growing old, many beyond challenge years. Without a turnover of new, younger Grand-Masters, their numbers would continue to diminish, until the very concept of the Master was antiquated and in need of modification.

Such modification would involve an entire re-writing of the rules, something most Nuor were not anxious to see. They appreciated the current structure of their civilization and would do whatever it took to preserve it.

The Kac Incursion Project was the most ambitious the Nuor had ever attempted. It involved over thirty Blood-Teams for construction and execution, as well as the scientific expertise of the entire race. Even then, it took over two hundred cycles to reach the point where they were today—on the verge of invading the Kac Galaxy.

And Daric (416) Kallen-Noc would lead that invasion.

* * *

Daric met Team-Master Falon (219) Kallen-Noc on the station’s observation deck. When he arrived, the other Nuor in the room left, leaving Daric and his Master to speak in private.

They spent a moment in silence gazing out at the massive tubular construction hovering in space, and dwarfing the station by a factor of a thousand. It was the largest artificial structure ever built, a giant gravity generator capable of compressing space over a distance of nearly three million light-cycles. It took three days to recharge the generators before making a jump, and since its completion, it had been singularly tasked with transporting information between the neighboring galaxies.

In seven days, it would be transporting more than just data.

“I witnessed your challenge,” Falon began with a grin. “It was obvious you let it go on longer than was necessary.”

Daric turned his attention from the spectacular view to his senior blood-kin. “Not too obvious, I hope,” Daric stated. “I did not want the young Kallen-Noc to lose respect among his peers. I see promise in him.” He wouldn’t tell the Team-Master how his young opponent had out-played him. That was something Daric would have to deal with on his own.

The smile vanished from Falon’s face. “Then he should not have challenged within his own Blood-Team.”

“I told him as much, among other things. Hopefully the scar he will carry for the rest of his life will be a reminder that it is best to bide one’s time for the proper opportunity. It is all part of basic game strategy.”

“Do they not teach that in school any longer?”

“To a degree, yet the most-ambitious will always seek ways around the rules. For these individuals, they will either succeed or fail. There will be no middle ground for them.”

“You hope he succeeds?”

“He is of the Blood-Team, and I admired his tenacity so much that I added him to the invasion fleet. I figure after our foray into the Kac, there will be a substantial shift within the GM hierarchy, and we will need all the players on our Team we can retain.”

Falon eyed his subordinate with amusement. “You still have the fire, I see. If not for your mission to the Kac, I would fear a challenge coming my way. My immunity points make me a potential target for many among us, you included.”

Daric laughed. “There are other ways of reaching the Qualifying-Masters without challenging within my own Blood-Team, especially now with the Kac. It will be target-rich, full of glorious games.”

“I regret that I am within three cycles of losing my challenge privileges, otherwise I would be going with you. And now the time is growing near.”

“I leave tomorrow for the Compressor point back to Nuor. There I will meet my fleet. Yet be comforted, Team-Master, you will see me again a few days later.”

Falon nodded. “Indeed, yet as only a streak of light within a computer simulation as you pass the station on your way to the Kac. Is your strategy developing as planned?”

“Yes. The conference we have been monitoring is on schedule. It is an opportunity to jump stages that must not be lost. The impact on the Kac will be substantial, setting up contests far in advance of our earlier projections.”

“This is good news. Again, I envy your opportunity.”

“I must report a curious bit of information I received only moments ago.”

Falon frowned. “What information?”

“Have you ever heard of a single alien gaining the rank of top player within a galaxy?”

“I have not, yet our experience is only within the Suponac. As much as I can recall, no individual being has been scored as such, even among the Nuor. Some of the Grand-Masters would come close, yet no single GM has acquired such a distinction. Is that the case within the Kac?”

“Yes, a creature named Adam Cain.”

“Is this a monster of some sort, ninety shoulders high and with breath of fire?”

Daric laughed, not out of humor but concern. “That is not the case. The images of his race show them to be of similar size and structure as us.”

“A master tactician then, using intelligence and strategy to overcome other deficiencies.”

“His race does not control the largest of the empires in the Kac, so I cannot speak to his intelligence, yet you may be correct. I am anxious to learn the truth.”

The gold eyes of Falon bore into his younger blood relative. “I smell fear within you, Daric. That disturbs me.”

“It is not true fear, rather apprehension. One should never underestimate an opponent.”

Falon’s eyes grew wide. “You plan on challenging this creature yourself!” He took a step back. “Take care, my friend. Not all creatures can be defeated in a standard combat challenge. You may require team assistance, especially against such a formidable foe.”

“Then he will be allowed a team of his own.”

“Those are the rules. Does he have one to call upon?”

Daric nodded. “I have been told so, a small one.”

“Then when the time comes, choose your players carefully. First-level immunity challenges are not like team challenges. They are to the death.”

Daric scowled. “That I know, Falon. I have participated in my share of death contests in the past.”

Falon placed a hand on Daric’s shoulder. “As I am aware, and that is why you command the invasion fleet. Yet this is a new galaxy. With all other past death challenges, we have known the opposing alien species intimately. You will not have that advantage in the Kac. You will learn as the game progresses.”

Daric stood straighter and smiled. “That is what makes this contest so exciting. It will be a true test of the individual, as well as of the race. It is why the games were designed in the beginning. I welcome the challenge.”

Concern now filled the eyes of Falon. “Then make sure you return to tell me tales of your alien games. I wish to experience your glory vicariously, not posthumously.”

Chapter 2

“I hate playing games!” Adam Cain exclaimed.

He was frustrated. Sherri had just dropped a building on his advanced squad and now his lead character was racing for his life along a path of shattered debris. Her forces were gaining, the end inevitable.

He pulled the virtual reality shield from his face, ending the game. “Why have these things become so damn complicated?” Adam lifted his hands, each fingertip and thumb capped by what looked like miniature latex condoms. Gone were the multi-function control consoles of yesteryear, replaced now by the ten tiny sensors. Every movement translated into an action within the game. Not only that, but each combination of fingers and thumbs meant something else. It wasn’t hard to move his fingers; the skill came from knowing what each of the thousand specific motions meant within the game.

This new generation of video game was all the rage, and Sherri Valentine was a natural at it. Adam had lost count of the number of games she’d won in a row. Now playing her was nothing but an incredible waste of time.

Adam pouted. “You were never this good before, so why now?”

Sherri grinned, her face animated, framed in a brilliant flow of wavy blond hair, her blues eyes bright and alive. She held up her hands and spread her fingers, each wearing the white rubber control sensors. She wiggled them. “It must be the six years of piano lessons I had growing up. The key is having separate left and right hand actions going on at the same time. You move in only one dimension. I can move in two…or more. Buddy, you ain’t got a chance against me.”

“No shit. But I still prefer the real thing, and not some made-up scenario with players doing things not even humanly possible.”

“And you’re very good at it, too, sweetie. Just in your games, real people die.”

“Not people, Sherri, aliens…mostly.”

She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I stand corrected. Yes, Adam Cain, you kill aliens…mostly.”

Riyad Tarazi grunted. “I hope you won’t be playing that game on Formil. That would be rude.”

Now Sherri pouted. “Even if I wanted to, it looks like no one will play with me anymore.”

Riyad had already learned his lesson about going up against Sherri Valentine in Star Blaster IV. Now it was Adam’s turn. He lasted half the time Riyad had before calling it quits.

“It’s your own fault,” Adam snapped. “You should have gone easier on us.”

Sherri snorted. “Gone easier on you? I was…dickhead!”

“Wonder how she’d do against Lila?” Riyad asked, a sinister tone to his voice.

Adam perked up. “Now that’s an idea. I’d like to see that too.”

“Apples to apples, guys. Let’s keep it fair. I ain’t playing no immortal alien mutant genius, even if she is your daughter, Mr. Cain.”

“She’s only half-alien.”

“Yeah, the better half.”

The trio was on their way to Formil to celebrate the one-year anniversary of Lila’s appointment as the leader of the Expansion. In all honestly, it hadn’t been an appointment; Lila simply took over. After Adam and his team crushed the Juirean command structure, a tremendous void was left in the galactic power structure. Lila, having grown impatient with all the wars and conflicts taking place, had had enough. She pronounced herself the boss, and then challenged anyone to oppose her. None did. By then the galaxy knew of her powers and seeming immortality, through an ability to spontaneously regenerate all the cells in her body. After the chaos of the Sol-Kor years and the Juireans’ desperate attempt to remain relevant, most of the galaxy welcomed the imposed stability Lila offered.

She turned out to be a just and thoughtful leader. Besides her immortality, she also carried the highest intellect in the Milky Way. Her decisions were more-deliberate and long-term than any before, and as a result, the galaxy was on the path to a time of peace and prosperity like never before.

To Adam, it was about time. He’d had his fill of heroics, and was now looking forward to some quiet leisure time with his friends and extended family.

They were traveling to Formil in a borrowed luxury-class starship, reserved for only the most-wealthy on Earth. Most of the attendees of the celebration were coming in commercial craft such as this. Since the waging of war was on its way out under Lila’s rule, showing up in a massive warship of one kind or another was considered very uncool.

As Adam and his friends entered the Formilian star system, they began to merge with the traffic pattern of thousands of other ships heading for the planet. It was time to put away the game and prepare for landing—even though the automatic pilot system was capable of doing it without Human assistance. Adam liked flying the advanced starship, so he took the controls anyway. Sherri slipped into the second seat, while Riyad sat in the plush owner’s seat, content to let the others do all the work.

The space around Formil was littered with starships, mainly from the minor races in the Expansion without landing privileges. A fleet of tiny atmospheric shuttles zipped between the vessels, gathering attendees for the ride to the surface.

The three Humans had direct landing clearance.

As they made their descent toward the capital city of Vull, where the Temple Complex was located, they could see the results of Lila’s new-found authority spreading across the landscape. The city had trebled in size in only a year as the seat of galactic government shifted to the planet. The Grand Temple was now lost in a forest of taller structures, many still under construction, housing the bureaucracy that went along with command. There were over eight thousand worlds in the Expansion, and nearly every one of them wanted their own presence close to Lila. The alien invasion of Formil was only just beginning.

Adam had seen the videos and read the reports about how his daughter was able to conduct upwards of a hundred meetings per day without appearing the slightest bit exhausted or skipping a beat with her grasp of each individual subject or concern. The only limiting factor seemed to be the endurance of her subjects. They came to her with well-rehearsed presentations and demands, all of which Lila sorted through with lightning speed, rendering decisions and verdicts in seconds flat. Her words often left others speechless, since she understood the data they were presenting far better than they did. More often than not, they would simply nod and gather up their datapads to leave without rebuttal. There was no point arguing with genius.

It appeared that the galaxy had finally found an entity capable of governing something so large and complex. The Juireans had tried, as had the Humans. Both found the task overwhelming and destructive of their very identity and individuality. A galaxy was simply too big to be ruled by mere mortals. It took a demi-god to do it right.

All this made daddy-Adam extremely proud, although he knew he had very little to do with Lila’s abilities. For that matter, neither did her mother, Arieel Bol, the Speaker of the Formilian people. Lila was a mutant, simply a fortuitous mistake of genetics across interspecies lines. She couldn’t have been planned, and none of her incredible greatness could be traced to her parents. It was something different, something more miraculous.

Of course Adam wasn’t going to admit this to his friends. Instead he often boasted how he had helped spawn the leader of a galaxy. He was going to take all the credit he could for the act.

And being one of the parents of a demi-god did have its benefits….

* * *

The executive starship was given immediate clearance to land at the Temple spaceport, in a spot near the main gate, and with an entourage of dignitaries waiting to escort them to Lila’s new digs. She was housed in a shimmering skyscraper, towering fifty stories high, with the surrounding grounds still receiving the final touches before the festivities began. The coming celebration had given the contractors a deadline, and many were still scrambling to meet it.

Lila’s government headquarters and residence was just beyond the boundary of the old Complex, a quarter mile from the Grand Temple, where her mother resided. The Formilians had insisted on making Lila’s home one of the most-elaborate on the planet. Although Lila didn’t care about any of this, the native population got a kick out of advertising the fact that one of their own was the HMIC—the Head-Mutant-In-Charge.

High Celebrant Trimen O’lac was on the tarmac outside the ship when Adam and the others disembarked. He was the head of the Temple Order and Arieel’s official mate, and for a while was believed to be Lila’s father. That was old news by now, and it surprised Adam how accepting the galaxy—and Trimen—had been when the truth came out. To most it seemed appropriate. Arieel Bol was often referred to as the most beautiful Prime in the Milky Way, while Adam was its most-celebrated and accomplished warrior. Why wouldn’t the two of them produce a super-being?

For his part, Trimen had accepted this new reality. Adam could tell he loved both Arieel and Lila and with probably more depth than he did. After all, they were Formilians, all except the bastard half of Lila that shared some of Adam’s primitive Human DNA.

With the ability to alter her biology at will, Adam seriously doubted Lila shared any of his or Arieel’s blood by now. How she was able to do this was incomprehensible to him, so whenever such thoughts invaded his mind, he did his best to dismiss them. He couldn’t change things, even if he wanted.

“Welcome, Adam Cain,” said Trimen O’lac. The alien was nearly eighty in equivalent-Human years, yet he had the physique of a twenty-something fitness model, tanned, thin-waisted and barrel-chested. His jaw was square, his blue eyes almost hypnotic in their brilliance. In other words, he was just your average Formilian male, just as Arieel was considered a five on a planet full of hunks and babes.

“Trimen, you’re looking well.” The two males—who had once been competitors for the affections of Arieel Bol—clasped forearms in the traditional Formilian form of greeting.

“As are you, my friend.”

Trimen looked over Adam’s shoulder at Sherri. He heard her inhale deeply when the alien’s eyes fell upon her. The initial reaction was always the same. Adam grinned.

“Sherri Valentine, as always you are a study in radiance and stunning beauty. I welcome you as well.”

Trimen chose to hug Sherri rather than grasp arms. He did it for Adam’s benefit, knowing how the Human female would react to his touch. The alien was aware of Adam and Sherri’s past relationships, and this was his not-so-subtle way of getting back at Adam for his affair with Arieel. Both relationships—with Sherri and Arieel—were long over, yet still there was a tightening of Adam’s gut seeing Sherri blush and her eyes flutter as Trimen took her in his arms.

“Riyad Tarazi, I am glad to have you here for this special occasion as well,” Trimen said, completing his greetings. “If you will all join me in the transport, Arieel and Lila are anxious to see you again. No need to take any personal items. All will be provided as our honored guests.”

Adam could sense the presence of Trimen’s automatic telepathy device—his ATD; he had retained it after their last adventure. This showed how much Formilian culture had changed recently, that a male could now possess their so-called Gift from the Gods, a device traditionally reserved for only the Speaker and her female offspring. Arieel carried one embedded under her skin, as did Adam. Lila didn’t need one to do what the device could do—and so much more.

As the caravan pulled out of the spaceport and traveled along the road skirting the tall, whitewashed wall of the Temple Complex, Adam mentioned all the changes that had come to the planet.

“Yes, there are,” Trimen agreed, “yet not as many as one would expect from the seat of a galactic government. Lila requires not the scope of support others would. On her own she can fully research any subject with much more speed and efficiently than could a thousand assistants. She also doesn’t require the security apparatus, considering the futility of any personal harm coming her way. I am still amazed at all she can accomplish in a day—as well as all she had achieved over this past year. Even with all that, she did not want this celebration initially, but was convinced it was more for the good of her subjects than for her. She has also confided in me that she now welcomes the celebration as a way to see you again, Adam. She has missed you considerably.”

Adam choked up. “I…I appreciate you telling me that, Trimen. Damn….”

Sherri was smiling at him. “Awe, big bad Adam Cain actually has a heart. Who would have known?”

“That’s news to me,” Riyad added. “I’ve always found him to be an insufferable asshole.”

“Oh, he’s that too,” Sherri said.

“Knock it off you two,” Adam mock-scolded. “Try to maintain some decorum while we’re in the presence of royalty—and the father of said royalty. Don’t forget, with a snap of my fingers—”

“What, you can have us locked in chains?” Sherri interrupted.

“No. But I can arrange for a game of Star Blaster IV between you and Lila.”

“I do not understand this conversation,” Trimen said, crevasses now furrowing his tanned forehead.

Adam laughed, leaving Trimen to wallow in his confusion. It was like this with most Human-Alien interactions, even with old friends. Humans were confusing creatures to most others in the galaxy. Adam liked it that way. It usually gave him an advantage, especially when encountering a race for the first time.

He spent the remainder of the short trip looking out the window, hoping the images outside would help distract him from the nervousness building up inside. How would he react when reunited with the alluring Arieel Bol? He was about to find out.

The ground floor of the massive government building was packed with exotic creatures of every form, along with elaborate decorations and an air of excitement and anticipation. It seemed every day more and more of the galaxy came to accept that they were entering a new paradigm and that nothing but good times awaited them. And all thanks to Lila Bol.

A path was cleared for the dignitaries. To his chagrin, Adam could feel the eyes upon him, as he was recognized by hundreds of aliens, not only for his military accomplishments, but also for his now-revealed contribution to this new era of galactic unity. He was embarrassed; he always was in these situations. He’d never sought celebrity. He simply did what he had to do and let the chips fall where they may. He was glad when they entered a large elevator and the doors closed, taking them on a ride up to the royal suite.

Lila and Arieel were waiting for them. Ignoring protocol, the voluptuous alien female rushed forward, past her daughter, and into the arms of Adam Cain. By now he knew the pheromones excreted by the Formilians—both male and female—were some of the strongest in the galaxy. That explained part of the reaction most Primes had to the natives, but not all. Arieel was also drop-dead gorgeous.

He returned the passionate hug, along with the full, wet kiss she planted on his lips. His involuntary reaction to Arieel’s body warmth was hard to hide. He cursed under his breath. He thought he was ready for this. Apparently not.

Lila came to him next. The hug was affectionate, yet they chose to keep a respectable gap between their two bodies. To do otherwise would have been…well, creepy.

“Father, I am so glad you came,” Lila said with genuine warmth once all the formal greetings were over. “I have missed our interactions. Out of all the beings in the galaxy, I receive the most stimulation when associating with Humans.” She looked at her mother and smiled sweetly. “Other than Formilians, of course.”

Adam could sense Lila had come to accept her uniqueness, knowing she was neither Human nor Formilian. She was a species all her own.

“So where is my little buddy Pogo?” Adam asked.

“I’m sorry, father, but I now refer to her as Zee, her traditional name. She seems to prefer it.”

“Of course. Is she around somewhere?”

Lila frowned. “She is, however, I must prepare you. I have noticed a strangeness in her actions recently.”

“What do you mean?”

“She remains alone more often, coming to me only when summoned. This is compared to her near-constant presence when I first acquired her from you. I sense she is…homesick.”

The entourage moved farther into the huge greatroom, with its fifty-foot high ceiling and columns of stone. It all had the look and feel of ancient Greece, even as the Formilians had no idea who the ancients Greeks had been.

“She misses me?”

“No, it is something more. I believe she has had time to realize her place in this new reality, and it doesn’t feel right to her. Perhaps she is developing more emotions as she interacts with us. They are confusing her. At least these are my conclusions.”

“Then I’m sure that’s what’s happening. Still, I would like to say hi.”

“Of course. Zee?”

A moment later, a small orb made of light green metal appeared on a table nearby. Welcome, Adam Cain, said a voice in his mind, made possible through his ATD.

“Pogo—I mean Zee. How have you been? I’ve missed you, you know,” Adam said aloud.

A voice spoke out through hidden speakers in the vast room. “I have missed you, as well, Adam. My Master has been anticipating this moment for a long…time. She is pleased by your arrival.” Zee had the means to link with computer speakers, bypassing the need for telepathy. Lila could speak with her mentally, as could Adam and any other being with an ATD. She used the speakers for the benefit of the others.

Adam noticed the subdued tone of the response. It felt almost cursory, devoid of feeling.

“Let’s spend some time together while I’m here,” Adam said, hoping this would cheer up the tiny, three-billion-year-old orb. “I’d like to hear what you’ve been doing since I last saw you.”

“That would consume your entire stay, and much more.”

Adam smiled. Zee had taken him literally. “Then how about just the highlights?”

“As you wish.”

“Thank you, Zee,” Lila said. “You may now go back to what you were doing before I called.”

“I was doing nothing, Master. I will go back to doing nothing.” The orb disappeared.

“See what I mean?” Lila said to Adam.

“Sounds like you need to get him—her—more involved in things. She’s bored.”

“I agree. Yet unlike when you were her master, I do not have as much need for her abilities. With you she was constantly being called upon for assistance…if not rescue. But let us not dwell on that. There is a grand feast prepared for you, after which quarters will be provided where you may rest. The main festivities begin two days from now. You must be well-rested by then. They will weigh more upon you than on me.”

* * *

The feast was indeed grand, with a mixture of gourmet dishes prepared for both Humans and Formilian palates. Of course, Lila didn’t eat. She absorbed energy directly without the need for metabolic conversion, as she called it. That was all well and good—for her. But by the time the mortals called it quits, it was all Adam could do to make it to his room without falling asleep.

The accommodations afforded the father of the leader of the galaxy were as expected. The Formilians were taking their role as hosts of a new god seriously, and everything on the royal floors was beyond opulent. They had always provided their Speaker and Temple priests with extravagant accoutrements, but this was beyond the pale. His suite of rooms was larger than his Lake Tahoe log home back on Earth, and this was just one of the ‘guest’ rooms.

The sad thing…he’d been expecting this, seeing what else the natives had provided his daughter. He barely reacted to the enormous size of the room, instead focusing on the twenty-foot-wide bed set against the far wall. He fell into its welcoming arms and was asleep thirty seconds later.

* * *

A presence in the room snapped him awake two hours later. He wasn’t concerned; the occupant had made its presence known through his ATD.

“Po—Zee, is that you?”

Yes, Adam Cain. Zee spoke within his mind. A soft light grew above the bed, allowing Adam to see the four-inch diameter globe resting on the silken sheets next to his head.

Adam propped himself up on an elbow and cleared the cobwebs from his mind. He was still stuffed and tired, yet he sensed something in Zee that made him set all that aside.

Something’s bothering you, my friend, what is it?

Adam always got the feeling there was a front and back to the orb, although none was evident, and that he—she—would look at him when speaking, if even mentally.

You are very perceptive.

It doesn’t take a lot to know you’re troubled. Tell me what’s going on.

Now it was as if Zee’s eyes shifted away, although the orb didn’t move. I have done something I was designed to do, yet have now come to regret.

Adam flinched. The tiny sphere was a three-billion-year-old service module, created by a race of extinct super-beings. Her primary job had been to channel energy from the ether to her creators, which was their form of nourishment. She could also levitate and teleport over short distances, and contained computer processing capabilities beyond anything the Milky Way had developed—at least in this eon. Was there now another purpose, something Zee had not revealed to either Adam or Lila?

I’m listening. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.

I will differ with you on that opinion, especially since what I have done involves your offspring and my new master, Lila.

Now Adam was concerned. Call it paternal instinct, but anger erupted inside him. The emotion quickly passed. This was Lila the orb was talking about. There certainly couldn’t be anything that could harm her?

Just tell me, Zee, Adam’s thought commanded.

I made contact with…my creator.

Adam turned cold and his breath shallow. This was the last thing he expected the orb to say. You’re going to have to provide a little more detail. I thought you said your creator was…gone.

He—the pronoun is correct—did leave, yet he was never gone.

That’s not the impression I got.

I told you I didn’t know what became of them. That was correct. They moved into another state of being, the results of which I had no way of knowing.

Adam slipped out of the bed. He was still dressed in the clothes from the starship. Through his ATD, he commanded the rest of the lights in the room to come on.

“So they’re still alive?” He didn’t bother with telepathy any longer. Speaking the words aloud had more impact, at least for him.

Yes. And I have now learned more of what happened to them.

Adam looked around the room. “Wait, let me get Lila—”

No! I fear for what she would say to me.

“Say…not do? You’re afraid she might yell at you?”

It is much more serious than that. And now that it is time, my feelings of regret are overwhelming.

“Regret for what? Why are you telling me this and not Lila? She’s your Master now.”

Not any longer.

The thought in his mind made him shudder. “You mean the Aris are coming back?”

That is correct.

Despite Zee’s request not to do so, Adam reached out with his ATD for his daughter, but something wasn’t right. He felt a void, an emptiness in his mind. He looked at Zee. The orb vanished from the bed before reappearing on an ornate table with gold edges. Adam whirled to face her. “Why can’t I contact her? Have you done something to prevent it?”

I have simply put a block on your communications until I have fully explained.

Now Adam was mad. “Then start explaining.”

My creators were very intelligent, more so than anything that came before them or since. They had evolved a million years beyond what you would call Prime beings, requiring less of their physical bodies as they did so. They would think and postulate on the questions of the universe and on the very meaning of existence. My creator, and others like him, began to explore the young galaxy, visiting many worlds still in the throes of early life. They experimented, they manipulated, and they played. They did this on thousands of worlds before gaining direction and purpose for their experiments.

“You’ve told me this before. So what happened to them?”

It is not so much what happened to them, but what they did to themselves.

“Stop talking in riddles and get to the point!”

I am, but I must provide context. As I have said before, our world was about to be destroyed, so service modules like myself were given the task of building chambers for the creators, chambers where they could sleep…for eternity.

“You said they traveled to thousands of worlds, so why would the destruction of their planet be such a big deal? Obviously they could have just traveled—or teleported—to another world. This doesn’t make any sense.”

It does when you realize the building of these sleeping chambers was more a coincidence with the timing of the planet’s destruction than anything else. Perhaps witnessing the events taking place around their homeworld made them realize that everything changes, including the Aris. A decision was made to stop it.

“Stop what?”

Change.

Adam snorted. “Bullshit. You can’t stop change. No one can.”

The Aris could, at least when it came to their bodies. They had evolved for a million years, giving them the ability to speculate on what they would become if evolution was allowed to continue. They didn’t want that to happen.

“Why not, didn’t they want to keep evolving, to the point where they could…would, well I don’t know what? Whatever’s beyond super-being?”

That was their dilemma as well. They were satisfied with what they had become and had started so many incredible projects that they feared they would no longer care once their experiments reached maturity. My part in this endeavor has only recently been revealed to me when a program hidden within my logic board created a link with the chambers holding the creators. I was not aware of this, nor did I have any control over the link. It just happened. Then my creator awoke and contacted me directly. That was when I learned more.

“Did it work? Did they stop their evolution, or are they now something even more powerful?”

They are the same as before. That experiment worked, as well as others. Yet it is not the logic of what they did to themselves that now troubles me. Instead, it is knowledge of the experiments they began, some of which are just now coming to fruition.

“So the Aris are back. Where are they?”

They are on an artificial world created to remain in the general vicinity of their homeworld, even as the galaxy continued to move throughout time.

Adam seemed to be missing the point, the reason for Zee’s trepidation—and guilt. “This means you get to return home, or at least be with your creator again. Lila thought you were homesick. This should make you feel better, not worse. Lila will understand.”

You misunderstand, Adam. This isn’t about me, it’s about Lila.

Adam’s gut tightened. “Lila? What do you mean?”

The Aris know of Lila.

“Did you tell them?”

The data was downloaded beyond my control. So, yes, I told them.

Adam was quiet for a moment, trying to figure the repercussions of what he’d just learned. He was at a loss as to the relevance. “Why would the Aris be interested in Lila? She’s a mutant, a one-of-a-kind being, the result of something everyone said couldn’t happen and could never be predicted—” His eyes grew wide. “Except by the Aris!”

That is correct. Lila is one of their experiments.

Adam jumped to his feet, clenching his fists and glaring at the green-tinted orb. “How is that even possible? That was three billion years ago.”

That is correct. I do not know all the details, but according to my creator, the Aris manipulated the early form of Humans and Formilians, allowing for such future inbreeding, the result of which would be something…different. As time passed, and the ability for the two races to link, it would be a signal, a trigger. Even the attraction felt between the races was programmed.

“Does this mean every mating between the races will produce a Lila?”

That is unknown, but probably unlikely. Genetics is not an exact science. And now I have these feelings from which I cannot escape. That is the reason for my current condition. I am torn between my loyalties.

Adam leaned forward, staring at the tiny orb. “Loyalties? What the hell does that mean?”

It means the Aris now wish to study the results of their experiment—

“They’re going to take her?” Adam placed his face only inches from the globe. “Where…when?”

Where, Adam Cain? Here. As for when? Now.

Chapter 3

The jump had gone well. Two thousand gameships, including nine battle-carriers, had successfully transited the Compressor and appeared in the Kac Galaxy.

Daric was in the lead group, and immediately set his task force on a course for the planet Formil, while others set out on other missions of acquisition. The Compressor had been aimed at the edge of the galaxy closest to the meeting taking place. It was a journey of fourteen days, and now the system was on the screens.

The Lead-Player—now classified as Game-Master, as the head of a fleet—was overflowing with emotion. Never before in the history of the Nuor were there such an abundance of immunity challenges available. It was almost too much to comprehend; an entire galaxy, fresh and new, and ripe for domination by the Nuor.

As had been reported, the star system was teeming with spaceships. Daric knew the technology used in this galaxy; it was very similar to that used by the Nuor. Gravity drives and plasma energy weapons. No actual battles had been monitored in the Kac, so Daric had very little information regarding the defensive capabilities of the aliens, but he assumed they followed along the same line as the Nuor, with diffusion screens and flak. The estimated military capabilities within this new galaxy had been some of the most encouraging news he received. They were substantial, yet on par with the Nuor, allowing for more competitive challenges and higher award points. If the aliens had been generations behind in technology, then much lower challenge points would have to be assigned. If vastly superior to the Nuor, then Daric and his fleet wouldn’t be here. The Nuor were gamers, yet not suicidal.

“Threat level…low, Game-Master,” a screen monitor reported.

“Explain.”

“The bulk of the alien ships are not warships. They appear primarily to be transports.”

“No offensive capabilities?”

“Very little.”

Daric thought for a moment. The news made sense with respect to the purpose of the congregation. According to the communication intercepts, it was not a planning or negotiation conference, but rather a celebration. There would be little need for a show of force. In a way, Daric was disappointed, but then he shrugged. This initial contact was designed primarily to collect game specimens for evaluation, his task made easier by the proliferation of various species in attendance. Now it was made even more so by the lack of a military presence.

It would also hasten the acquisition of his most-prized specimen, the Human Adam Cain. His name and image were featured prominently in the communications, revealing to Daric that he was in fact a close relative of the current leader of the largest stellar empire in the Kac, something called the Expansion. He dismissed the confusion he had at the time regarding this strange affiliation, choosing to wait until he had Adam Cain in his possession for the answers to be forthcoming.

To this end, Daric focused his personal responsibilities in the coming action on securing this super-player, and thanks again to the proliferation of information being broadcast, he knew his exact location. It was in the main governing building for this Expansion empire, a place which was squarely in his sights as the task force closed on the planet Formil.

The Nuoreans entered the star system on full drive and from three directions simultaneously. Their objective was not to destroy the alien ships, but rather to disable them so live specimens could be removed. They accomplished this with energy bombs.

Since most starships use diffusion shields for defense, the bombs were designed to overload the shields and then penetrate the bulk of other electrical systems aboard the alien vessels, causing catastrophic failure within. With life support down, the Nuor could make their rounds, rescuing willing occupants of the ships before they either died of suffocation or hypothermia. It would be a very efficient and speedy process of collection.

The aliens on the surface were another matter.

Nine minutes after entering the system, Daric and a squad of forty-two small atmosphere attack ships shot out the back of the three-mile-long battle-carrier and bolted for the planet’s surface. Three minutes later, Daric’s ship was circling the tall target government building looking for a place to land. There was a series of wide balconies among the upper floors which would make perfect landing zones. His ship dropped to one of the higher ones and his players departed a second later.

There was opposition, delivered by healthy-looking creatures with bronze skin. They fired powerful plasma weapons at his players, eliminating several before the Nuoreans overpowered them. Then Daric departed the vessel, dressed in full battle gear and carrying his own Secan plasma rifle. He would have preferred his ressnel—his combat sword—but in a contest like this, energy weapons were a more practical choice. The blade was reserved for more individualized challenges.

They entered the building, encountering more resistance in the wide passageways and expansive rooms. From the layout and opulence of his surroundings, Daric reasoned they were in the chambers of the powerful, the leaders of the Kac. Here he would find Adam Cain.

* * *

Lila! Adam screamed through his ATD. This time be felt a welcoming presence in his mind.

Father, I am here. I sense your panic—

The Aris…they’re coming for you!

There was only a moment’s hesitation before Lila replied. I understand now.

Understand what?

Everything. Why Zee has been acting the way she has, as well as my very existence. I am a creation of the Aris.

Adam shook his head. You got all that from one line?

I have often pondered my birth and abilities. I should not be…yet I am. I do not have all the information, but the Aris must be responsible for the compatibility between the Formilians and the Humans, something that could only have happened in the distant past. The Aris are the logical catalyst for that event.

They know about you.

Of course. They would want to monitor the results of their experiments. Now they wish to examine me.

Are you in any danger?

Unknown…until I meet the Aris. Are they not well-advanced from Zee’s time?

No, they suspended their evolution somehow. Zee says they’re like they used to be.

Then I may have an advantage.

Don’t let them take you! I’m on my way.

There was another hesitation.

It appears the Aris have already arrived…along with others, unrelated.

Others? What do you—

Alarms rang throughout the building; Adam used another part of his ATD to connect with the Formilian’s main computer system. The data flowing into his brain only confused him more.

Who’s doing the attacking if not the Aris?

I do not know. Yet please forgive me, father, but I appear to be in some distress—

“Lila!” Adam cried out loud. He looked to the table where Zee had been sitting only seconds before. She was gone.

He raced for the exit. The guest chambers were two levels below Lila’s, so he dashed toward the nearest elevator at the end of the hallway. Just then, double doors burst open on his right and a squad of aliens clad in dark green battle armor poured into the corridor, blocking his way. They fanned out on either side, opening a path for a central figure. This alien glanced down at a pad he held in his gloved hand and then at Adam. The creature’s face was Prime, with gold eyes that seemed to glow in the hall lights, especially when they locking on the Human.

Adam was still running toward the gathering of aliens when he heard the one with the datapad speak. “Adam Cain! I am Game-Master Daric. You will come with me—”

A moment later Adam was at the alien…and planting a balled fist onto the nose of the grinning face. The creature staggered back, falling into the arms of two of the other soldiers.

“Sorry dude,” Adam said as he passed. “I don’t have time to play your alien games.”

Not waiting for the elevator, Adam ran to the stairwell and was gone a moment later, climbing toward Lila’s chambers.

* * *

Daric nearly lost consciousness from the tremendous strike; if not for the Nuoreans behind him he would have toppled to the floor. He tried to right himself, but found his legs were like rubber and he was in need of assistance to stay upright.

Others were talking to him, but he couldn’t understand. After a moment, his senses returned.

“Shall we follow?” someone was asking. “Game-Master, do we—”

“Yes, follow, but do not kill him. I want him alive!”

* * *

Formilian gravity is Juirean Standard, or about three-quarters that of Earth. As a result, Adam was taking the stairs five at a time and was at Lila’s floor in three seconds flat. He laid a shoulder into the sliding exit door, snapping the right side out of its frame, and continued on without breaking stride.

There were a few natives around but they appeared confused. Adam took one by the shoulders. “Where’s Lila?” he yelled. The Formilian male looked back at him with dazed eyes. They were all like this, addled as if on drugs..

Then Trimen appeared, seemingly unaffected.

“There are invaders in the building,” he called out to Adam. He had only one flash weapon, and it was out and ready.

“Where’s Lila?”

“In her chambers. Follow me.”

Adam relieved one of the useless Formilian guards of his MK-17 and raced off with Trimen. At a set of double doors fifty feet farther along, they moved to each side, weapons ready. Trimen activated the controls and the doors opened.

They entered in a crouch, one on each side. Lila was there, standing in the middle of an enormous room, shrouded in a glowing halo of blue. Her eyes met Adam’s.

When his telepathic link met a brick wall, Adam reverted to tried and true verbal communication.

“Are you all right?”

Lila shook her head. She spoke through the shimmering cocoon holding her. “They are here; I cannot move. Beware. They can influence minds, as witnessed by the guards.”

Adam and Trimen scanned the room but saw no one else. Although he felt pressure in his mind, it wasn’t painful, not at first. But that soon changed.

Trimen screamed and fell to the tile floor, gripping his head. Adam fought the mental intrusion, but it was becoming harder by the moment. Then the pressure in his mind vanished. When it did, three creatures were standing before him where none had been before. They, too, were wrapped in the blue halo.

The Aris were extremely pale and thin, as one would expect from creatures with little need of their physical bodies. They were classic Prime in form—probably because they had been the first Primes and fashioned all other races after themselves. They wore no clothing Adam could see, but the haze of the halo shielded most of their bodies except for the head. One of the aliens stepped forward.

Adam stood, wanting to fire his weapon yet unable to gather the will to do so. His mind was still active, even as his body was in a state of tingling numbness.

You are…the birth male, the alien spoke to him in his mind. He looked back at the others and smiled. Success. There is continued interaction between the species. This is encouraging.

Let her go, Adam managed to convey in his mind, filling the thought with all the venom he could muster.

The alien turned back to him and appeared to grin. Or what? I find it hard to believe I am having a conversation with you…Human. I remember vividly the moment I created your race. And now here you are, full-developed and threatening me. The humor is evident in the moment, but also the pride. We have done well, my friends. It will be exciting to learn the results of our other experiments. Now let us go. Bring the apex being.

The three glowing aliens moved off to the right. Adam remained locked in place, unable to move anything but his head.

“Lila!” he called out. “I’ll find you.”

The aliens reached the entrance to the wide terrace outside a forty foot bank of sliding glass doors. A breeze rustled the shear curtains. Lila began to slide along the floor, trapped in her electric prison. At the doorway, the lead Aris spoke aloud in a voice that reverberated throughout room. “Come Zee. It is time to go.”

Adam caught sight of the tiny green globe on a table near the door. For a moment he got the feeling she was looking at him. He felt a sigh in his mind, and then the orb disappeared, as did the Aris.

Along with Lila Bol.

* * *

The unseen shackles holding him fell away, allowing Adam to stumble for the doorway to the balcony. He still didn’t have complete control of his muscles and held onto the doorframe while looking outside. A small spacecraft, about the size of school bus, began to glow white over its entire surface. The glare continued to grow until blinding in its intensity. Adam lifted his arm to shield his eyes, expecting the brilliance to soon bathe his body with scorching heat. But the air remained cool in the flowing breeze. The ship lifted silently from the terrace before gaining speed and streaking off into the evening sky of Formil.

Coordination was returning to his body. He ran to the edge of the balcony and looked up. The glow of the spacecraft was evident for several seconds against the darkening sky before it vanished from sight. Adam scanned the balcony for any other spacecraft, be they Formilian or the unnamed others attacking the building. He couldn’t let the Aris get too much of a head start.

Below him, on the balcony at the guest quarters level, sat a silver-hulled vessel with three of the armor-clad aliens standing patrol. The ship would do nicely.

Adam returned to the Lila’s chambers just as Trimen was regaining his senses.

“Lila…where is she?”

“They took her.”

“Who took her?”

“The Aris.” Adam entered the foyer outside Lila’s chambers with Trimen stumbling behind. He knew the other aliens were swarming the building, probably on the floor below looking for him. Next they would be coming to Lila’s chambers.

“The Aris?” Trimen called out from behind him. “Referring to Zee’s Aris?”

“That’s right. I spoke with Zee. She filled me in on the details. The Aris created Lila.”

“I…how? That is incomprehensible.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

“They have arrived with an army,” said Trimen. “I received reports of attacks occurring throughout the system before joining you. Others are in the building,” Trimen reported.

“Those aren’t Aris. I don’t know who they are.”

“They are not with the Aris?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. All I know is that the Aris have left and they have Lila.”

Armor-clad aliens were at the shattered stairwell door by now, probing cautiously with the barrels of the energy rifles. Adam and Trimen fell against the wall next to the door. Two of the creatures exposed themselves; flash bolts ignited and the invaders fell, blocking the doorway.

A torrent of blue-white streaks entered the foyer through the stairwell doorway, only to be silenced a moment later when a stern voice yelled out. It sounded like the angry voice of the alien Adam had smacked.

At least he’s still alive. That says something for the durability of this particular breed of alien, Adam thought.

“I have to get to the guest level,” he said to Trimen. “There’s a spaceship on the balcony. I need it to go after Lila.”

Trimen scanned the foyer. The elevator doors were beyond the stairwell opening. They would be locked down by now, the result of emergency procedures. “There is a service shaft at the end of the corridor. It operates pneumatically, moving supplies in pods throughout the building. We might be able to climb down.”

Without another word, the pair raced away from the stairwell. Aliens were once again trying to enter the foyer. Adam and Trimen sent a couple of random flash bolts at the door, and the aliens retreated.

They turned a corner and came to a small alcove with a panel of clear glass set in the wall. An amber light glowed next to it, just above a control pad. Trimen fingered the keys and the light turned red. The glass panel opened.

“All the access doors are open, from here to ground floor,” Trimen said.

Adam poked his head inside the shaft. It was a round tube made of shiny and smooth metal. “What’s to keep us from falling all the way down?”

“This.” Trimen had torn a section of thirty-foot long curtain from a nearby window. He tied one end to the legs of the built-in workstation and fed the silky material into the tube.

“It’s not long enough,” Adam said. He could see the periodic access points for the different floors down the shaft, until it became just a dark point far below.

“It will get us to the next level. Hopefully the invaders will not be present and we can take the stairs to the lower floor.”

“Good thinking. I’ll take the lead.”

Tucking the MK-17 into his waistband, Adam took hold of a ledge above the opening and hoisted himself up until his legs were dangling in the tube. Then taking the curtain firmly in his grip, he began sliding down its length.

He looked down, knowing there was nothing to stop his fall for fifty stories. He quickened his descent.

Above, he felt the tension on the curtain rope as Trimen added his weight to the length of cloth. That may not have been the best thing to do, not until Adam reached the floor below. A loud tearing sound confirmed his belief. He began to fall.

Releasing the now-useless curtain, Adam extended his arms and legs, placing rubber soled shoes on one side of the shaft and his back against the other. It worked—somewhat. He was still sliding along the surface, but much slower. His back began to heat up from the friction against the wall.

He slid past the access portal for the floor below Lila’s chambers. It came upon him so rapidly that he had no time to react. But now he knew what to expect.

Then Trimen landed on his lap. He had been in freefall down the center the shaft.

Adam groaned and pressed harder against the sides, having to support more weight than a moment before. His back felt on fire as the pair gained speed.

Without warning, the wall of the shaft against Adam’s back disappeared. He fell backwards through access port, losing his grip on Trimen, and now hooked on the edge of the opening by his bent legs, hanging upside down. He felt a weight on his legs and a strong grip around his ankles. He straightened his legs, feeling desperate hands climbing up them. Trimen appeared at the opening until he gripped the outer wall of the portal and pulled, propelling himself out of the shaft. Adam fell head-first to the floor and rolled, finding the soft body of the alien next to him.

They lay on the cold tile, panting for several seconds, catching their breath before Adam sprang to his feet with renewed urgency. He smiled at Trimen. “That worked—sort of. We should be on the guest level.”

Adam raced out of the alcove and toward the balcony, leaving Trimen behind.

“Wait for me!” he yelled after Adam.

“You find Riyad and Sherri,” Adam called back. “Find out who these other aliens are. I’ll get Lila.”

“How…against the Aris?”

“I have an idea where they’re taking her.”

The platform outside the building was contiguous, forming an observation deck that wrapped the structure. All the higher levels had such a feature, a place where guests and dignitaries could behold the glory of the expanding city of Vull. Night was approaching, and the building was already bathed in both internal and external light, making it visible throughout the city.

The alien starship was still there, yet with only two guards visible. Adam pulled his MK-17 and sent a series of quick blasts into the aliens as he rushed toward the ship’s open hatch. The well-placed shots struck their unshielded heads, blasting each into unrecognizable masses of bloody flesh.

Adam had no idea how many others were inside, and he didn’t care. Lila was bolting away somewhere in the heavens and he didn’t have time to waste.

He entered through a small airlock open at the other side and met up with a central spine corridor that ran the length of the ship in each direction. He turned right, heading for the pilothouse.

An alien appeared from a side compartment, unarmored and shocked to see Adam. It was the last thing he saw. Adam closed his eyes as he fired the MK, preventing a short-term bout of blindness from the intense flash. That wasn’t the case for the other alien in the corridor emerging from the pilothouse. Instinctively, he lifted his arms to his eyes as the light flooded the chamber. Adam’s next bolt burned a hole in the creature’s chest.

That was it for Adam’s MK. The damn power pack of a ’17 only allowed for five shots at level-one. He’d set the weapon at max, not taking any chances against this unknown species of alien.

He entered the pilothouse, and to his relief, it was empty.

He scanned the side walls and found a control panel for the pressure door. He pressed it. With the room secure, he slipped into the pilot seat, snapping a safety harness around his waist. Nearly all starship control consoles had the same layout, a consequence of having been designed by Primes for Primes. Yet some used control keys while others had sticks. This one had keys, with strange symbols on each. That was a problem. He couldn’t read alien.

Adam began to push buttons in what he hoped was some sort of logical progression. The larger keys did produce a reaction. The ship began to hum as the generators wound up. That was a good sign. He pressed another button. This time a powerful flash bolt shot out from the bow, blasting out a twenty-foot wide section of the ornate stone railing lining the terrace, and sending chunks of debris raining all the way to the ground.

One of the buttons activated a side screen, indicating the various openings to the ship in graphic detail. The main hatch was still open and a pulsing blue light framed the portal, warning the pilot that the ship was not secure for liftoff. Adam didn’t care. He was locked safely away in the pilothouse.

The ship began to move, sliding sideways toward the edge of the balcony. Adam pressed buttons on the right side of the panel. This corrected the movement to the left, but it sent the spacecraft scraping along the side of the building to his right, creating another cascade of debris as doors and windows shattered. At least now he knew how to move the ship from left and right. Now how about up and down?

The lower center buttons provided lift, causing the ship to shoot away from the building in a cloud of grayish smoke billowing from underneath. The shiny vessel reached the edge of the terrace—before smashing through another section of decorative railing and tumbling over the edge.

Adam was thrown to one side, held in the seat only by his waist harness. He inhaled sharply as his stomach rose up in his throat. The gray cloud disappeared in the viewport, replaced by the blur of the building racing past. Adam figured he had about forty stories to learn how to fly the alien spacecraft.

Automatic gyroscopes kicked in and the ship leveled out, but it was still falling.

Adam began to press every button he could reach. At one point the ship lurched to a stop, nearly breaking his back in the process. But then another button sent the ship racing for the ground once again. Desperate to find the button he’d hit before, Adam performed a piano concerto on the keyboard with his panicked fingers.

He finally hit something that made a difference.

The view outside the ship became mired in a tornado of debris. It only lasted a second before the view cleared and stars greeted his welcoming eyes. He’d activated the gravity drive. Fortunately, the well had formed above the ship and not below….

Adam retraced his keystrokes, and soon had a rudimentary understanding of the controls. They were logical, if he’d just had the time to think about it. The lower center buttons controlled the chemical drive, the upper buttons the gravity well. The outer row gave him pitch and yaw, while another set activated the various screens placed before his station.

On one of the screens he saw the shrinking image of the planet Formil. He was in space, which was a start. Now he just needed to find where in space.

He scanned the other screens. There was a proximity panel showing dozens of contacts painted in red. The rest of the screen was taken up by a haze of small blue contacts. These would be Expansion ships, numbering in the thousands, while red indicated the invaders—whoever they are. All the contacts were clustered in an area close to the planet.

All except one.

This rogue light was moving at incredible speed for the outer system. Adam shifted course, lining up on the departing Aris starship. He experimented with the buttons along the top of the panel, until he found a key he could press repeatedly, increasing the depth of the well. He was still inside a star system, so he had to be careful. The stronger the well, the more miscellaneous space junk would be drawn toward the singularity. Scooping up a generous portion of an asteroid belt would flood the well, causing an overload. He wouldn’t survive the resulting explosion.

Fortunately, he was pretty familiar with the Formilian star system. He cranked the well up higher, knowing he was beyond the plane of the ubiquitous ring of unformed planetary debris most star systems contained, usually at the boundary between the rocky inner planets and the outer gas giants.

He was gaining on the Aris starship.

Of course, he had no idea what he’d do once he caught up to them. He considered his options. He could fire on the ship, knowing that Lila would survive any explosion. But then he’d have to locate her frozen body within the expanding sea of debris. And that was assuming he could destroy the glowing starship in the first place. The Aris had a million years of evolution over any of the current so-called superior races in the Milky Way. He may be in way over his head this time.

But he was gaining. That was encouraging, and if he knew the controls better, he would have calculated an intercept time. Instead he had to eyeball it.

That was until all the power in the starship cut out.

The alien craft fell out of the gravity-well with a flash, as emergency lights snapped on, bathing the pilothouse in an eerie yellow glow, accentuated by starlight filtering in through the viewport. Adam pounded on the control panel, but to no avail. He was dead in the water…and the Aris were getting away.

Something caught his eye through the viewport. A huge mass moved across the starfield, occasionally lit by a flare of reflection on a silver hull. It was a starship, but one larger than any he’d ever seen, except for a Klin Colony Ship. But this one wasn’t spherical. It was oblong, with the emphasis on long.

Tiny flares erupted from a section along the hull, as a squad of mosquito-like ships formed up and came his way. Adam leaned back in the seat, enjoying the zero-gravity the ship was now experiencing with all its systems down. He released the safety harness and floated in the waterless sea.

So much for peace and tranquility in the galaxy, he thought sardonically. We now have a new war with a new enemy, and without Lila around to lend us a hand.

Chapter 4

As quickly as the armor-clad aliens had arrived, they departed. Trimen and other Formilians fired at the departing figures, taking a few out before they boarded their ships and streaked off into space. The relatively few warships in the system gave chase, until recalled to help secure the planet against a possible secondary assault.

Trimen found Sherri and Riyad in Lila’s chambers, looking for Adam.

“He left to chase after the Aris,” Trimen informed them.

“The Aris? You mean like Zee’s Aris?” Sherri asked.

“That’s what I said. Yes, they still exist and have absconded with Lila.”

The moment of stunned silence spoke volumes. “They took…Lila? How was that even possible?”

“She was encased a blue halo. She could not move.”

“The Aris are three billion years old,” Riyad pointed out. “To them, Lila’s probably as advanced as an amoeba.”

“What does that make us?” Sherri asked. “And Adam raced off after them? What an idiot.”

“She is his daughter,” Trimen pointed out.

“I’m not criticizing his motivation, just his judgement. The Aris went through a lot of trouble to get her.”

Riyad looked over to where the body of one of the light-brown aliens laid dead. “I would have thought the Aris would be a lot different than us.”

“Those are not Aris,” Trimen said. “They are something else, not associated with them, according to Adam.”

Sherri shook her head. “You mean two separate groups of aliens—forgive me, Trimen—attacked at the same time, and they don’t know each other?”

“Apparently, again according to Adam. We shall learn more when the survivors are interrogated.”

“I’d like to get in on some of that action,” Riyad said.

“Where’s Adam now?” Sherri asked.

“Unknown,” Trimen replied. “Come with me to Defense Command. Our journey of discovery is only just beginning.”

* * *

Technicians highlighted the path Adam had taken from the government building. It ended a quarter of a light-year away, yet still within the range of hundreds of scanners operating in and around the Formilian star system.

“How big was that thing?” Riyad asked.

“Converted to Human measurements, three-miles-long by half-a-mile in diameter,” answered the alien tech. “There was only one of that size within the attacking fleet, yet another fifteen were half that size. The smaller attack vessels were discharged from the large one.”

A Juirean Overlord was standing with the group. “A response force is assembling near LocVer. Ninety Juirean ships are included. I would expect the Humans to contribute as much, along with the other major species in the Expansion and beyond.”

“Who’s in command?” Sherri asked.

“We are,” stated Sando ra Todd firmly. “The attack occurred in Expansion space and against a member planet.”

“Formil is not just a member of the Expansion,” Trimen pointed out. “We are the seat of government. Formilians should take the lead position.”

“You have very little experience in space warfare. And with your abominable leader missing, there is no reason for the Juireans not to reassume control of the Expansion.”

Several creatures spoke at once, turning from their screens to bark at one another.

Riyad lifted a chair and slammed it on the floor. The loud crack got everyone’s attention. “Knock it off, all of you. This is bigger than any one race, or one empire.”

The Juirean glared at him. The Overlord was one of the few higher-tier officers to survive the Human’s attack on the facilities atop the Kacoran Plain. Riyad had played a major role in that event, a fact the Juirean acknowledged through the hatred in his eyes.

Riyad ignored him. “We have reports that the aliens—let’s call them invaders—took members of nearly every race in attendance. It appeared to have been a coordinated operation. They had the capability to destroy the ships, yet destroyed none. All they took were people.”

“Including the mutant,” the Juirean reiterated.

Riyad hesitated revealing the fact that the Aris had taken Lila, and not the invaders. As far as he knew, the Juireans had no knowledge of the Aris. They were already feeling inferior enough after the spanking the Humans and Lila had laid on them. Knowing that another race of immortal super-beings was around would probably push them over the edge.

“Yes, and that only serves to underscore the fact that the invaders are a major force to be reckoned with. They took individuals from both the Expansion and the Union, and everything in between.”

“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.

He ducked back inside when four Nuoreans ran past, energy weapons in their hands, heading in the direction of the landing bay. When he’d been brought to the cell earlier, he’d memorized the route. The hangar deck was to his left, but it would be the first place they’d expect him to go, as evidenced by the detail rushing in that direction.

Adam needed a weapon and a layout of the ship. One person, intent on wreaking havoc, could really mess up the works. But what good would that do? This was just one ship out of what was undoubtedly a very large fleet. He had to think.

If he couldn’t get off the ship—and it wouldn’t do any good to disable it—all that was left was to take out the leader. That was always a good idea. Disrupt the chain of command and see what happens. It was also the last thing the aliens would be expecting. And Adam Cain had a pretty good idea who their leader was.

This thinking brought Adam back to his original needs list: A weapon and a layout of the ship.

The area outside the cell was quiet—for the moment—so he exited and turned right down the corridor, away from the landing bay. Assuming most of the aliens he would encounter would be armed, he needed to find a place to lie in wait for one of them to pass. There wasn’t any place in this corridor to hide, just a long series of doors leading to other cells. He quickened his pace until reaching a closed pressure door at the end of the huge chamber that had been converted into the holding cells.

A touchpad was on the wall next to the door. He had no idea what he’d find on other side, but he couldn’t stay here. He placed himself face-first against the narrow wall next to the door, out of sight of anyone on the other side, and activated the door panel.

With a swoosh it slid open. All was quiet. He poked his head around the doorframe. This new corridor was narrower—and empty. He raced down its length, passing several doorways different from those in the holding area. These appeared less secure, just standard doorways leading to work areas or sleeping quarters. Out of curiosity, he opened one.

It was an equipment room of some kind, containing several ten-foot-high square boxes with vents in their sides. Large conduit pipes joined the boxes and snaked into the overhead. There a steady hum and a slight breeze in the room. It was a ventilation station, designed to circulate air throughout the massive ship.

Adam wasn’t alone. At an inset workstation placed along a back wall sat two Nuorean crewmembers, busy monitoring their equipment; however, one turned when the door opened. Gold eyes met blue eyes, and Adam rushed at the pair without hesitation.

The first technician was on his feet and squared up against Adam’s charge a moment later. Adam threw his body sideways into the alien, sending them both piling on top of the workstation. As the strong arms of the first alien wrapped around Adam’s torso, the second one sprang into action, grabbing his legs and clamping down hard. For a moment, Adam couldn’t move, immobilized by the quick reactions of the Nuoreans. But neither could the aliens. A muscular arm then reached out for a panel on the console, hoping to activate an alarm, leaving only one arm to hold Adam’s legs.

He broke the grip on his leg and lashed out with a kick to the alien’s head. He fell back, just as Adam and the other alien rolled off the table. A couple of strong jabs with his elbow into the alien’s ribs convinced the creature to release him. Adam twisted around until he faced the Nuorean. The gold eyes were intense and devoid of fear. In fact, the slight smile on the brown face gave Adam the impression he was enjoying the fight.

A powerful right cross changed the alien’s mind. His head snapped to the left, eyes fluttering. A second punch closed the eyes completely, and they stayed that way.

Another strong arm now wrapped around Adam’s neck and pulled him off the floor. He was bent back, as a fist began to pound repeatedly into his right side. These aliens were definitely accomplished fighters—even the damn equipment techs—but like most, they lacked strength when compared to a Human. Not much, but enough.

Adam pressed with his legs, sending the pair crashing backwards into a nearby bulkhead. The alien gasped, weakening his hold around Adam’s neck. Grasping the Nuorean’s wrist, Adam twisted his body, reversing the positions of both fighters. Now Adam’s forearm clamped around the alien’s neck. He squeezed tight as desperate hands tried to break the hold. Grasping his right hand with his left, Adam applied even more pressure until he heard a pronounced snap, and the creature went limp in his arms.

Adam let the alien slump to the deck before searching both his victims for a weapon. They had none. Next he searched the workstation. Still nothing. But there were computer screens, on and active.

Adam replaced a dislodged chair and sat down, surveying the console. All he had to do was find a way to access a layout of the ship, if he could even do it from here.

The first alien began to come to; with nonchalance, Adam placed a booted foot against his neck and pressed. Another snap…and the alien was no longer a concern. Adam returned his attention to the computer screens.

The pad before him was square and contained forty keys, each with a different symbol. Adam started with the keys along the top row, left to right. The screens changed with nearly every keystroke, but he still didn’t find what he was looking for. Then he tried the keys along the sides, beginning on the left.

A schematic appeared, looking like veins in a body and thread throughout the entire ship in a hard-to-follow and confusing maze. It was a layout of the ventilation system, and it was in 3-D. Noting the key that had brought up the image, Adam tried others. Soon he could spin the image, viewing it from several angles, as well as zoom in and out, discovering that the more he zoomed in, the more detail was revealed. He could see where the vital systems of the ship were placed, including the bridge and the officers’ country nearby. He could even make out control consoles, workstations and even furniture in graphic detail, if not with actual images.

His current location was also highlighted, which gave him a point of reference.

Damn, the ship was big, and as would be expected, the bridge was at the opposite end from the hangar bays and prisoner holding cells. It would be impossible for him to make his way there—to the place where he hoped to find the leader of the Nuoreans—without being seen.

So…if I’m going to be seen, I need to go in disguise.

The two dead aliens at his feet were both slightly taller than him, one more so than the other. He stripped the shorter one of his two-piece dark green uniform and placed it over his own clothing. He removed the alien’s light rubber shoes and slipped them onto his feet. They fit fairly well. Next, he rolled the excess length of pant legs into his socks and then folded the cloth to the proper length.

Body-wise, he would pass. But his light pink skin and short blond hair would be a problem. All the aliens had light brown skin, gold eyes and black hair. And none he’d seen wore hats.

Under his uniform, the alien wore an off-white undershirt made of a coarse material. Adam tore off a piece of it and wrapped it around his head and most of his face. Next, he took another piece and fashioned a sling. Lastly, he smashed his foot into the face of the dead alien until blood oozed from the mouth and nose of the still-warm body. Dipping another piece of cloth in the red liquid, Adam finished off the ensemble with another layer of blood-soaked cloth around his face, covering one eye and most of the other.

The aliens had just taken part in an attack on Formil, so it was a pretty good bet some were injured, yet still managed to evacuate the planet. Adam Cain looked like one of the survivors.

Lastly, he took a datapad off the workstation. It would serve as his clipboard…and no one ever questions someone with a clipboard.

He had a disguise and he knew the layout of the ship. All he needed now was a weapon.

* * *

Adam left the ventilation room…and had the first test of his disguise ten seconds later.

Three armed Nuoreans rushed towards him in the corridor. One nodded; Adam nodded back and stepped aside to let the trio pass. They were headed aft, toward the hangar bay. They continued without looking back.

The layout of most starships followed more or less the same plan. On a ship this large, several long spine corridors ran the length, with service elevators and stairways connecting the different levels. Adam was on one of the lower decks, those most-often reserved for lower ranking crewmembers and equipment rooms. He continued along this corridor for what seemed like an hour, passing through countless pressure doorways as hundreds of Nuoreans rushed by, most seeming agitated. Many were armed, yet they moved in squads. Adam knew these guys could fight, so he wasn’t anxious to press the issue by going up against several of them in order to secure a weapon. He would have to be patient.

The corridor ended at a large open area outside an open portal twenty feet wide. Inside, Adam recognized the large room from the ventilation diagram. It was the forward weapons station. The room was rounded at the far end, with a vast array of consoles, all manned by Nuorean techs and gunners. There was a frenetic energy in the room, as hundreds of aliens went about their tasks with speed and efficiency.

Adam was at the front of the ship…and nine levels below the bridge.

Banks of express elevators were off to both his left and right, each with a series of wide open stairways next them, to be used in case the lifts were inoperable. Adam began climbing. There was something about the unpredictability of elevators that always sent him seeking stairways. Besides, elevators made very effective jail cells.

The stairs were being used by impatient aliens, preferring them to the elevators when moving only a few levels at a time. Adam kept his head down and his hands in his pockets, avoiding any traffic heading up and scurrying past downward traveling aliens without acknowledgement.

The stairs ended at the ninth level. He stepped out into a crowded foyer, still without a weapon and only the hint of a plan. He grimaced when he spotted his target alien down the corridor, still wearing the plastic shield over his broken nose and conferring with three other Nuoreans in lighter green uniforms. Adam wasn’t anxious to commit suicide. He was looking to upset the apple cart, but not at the cost of his life.

However, the officers with Daric did have energy weapons in holsters strapped around their waists.

Daric turned and entered a side room. The three officers remained in the passageway, huddled together, impervious to the other aliens having to move around them in the corridor. Adam moved up to the small gathering. They didn’t clear the way for him, either, forcing him to move closer to the right, where Daric had gone. The door was still open, the room appearing to be the spacious fleet commander’s away cabin.

As he passed, Adam snatched an energy weapon from the holster of one of the officers and raced into the room, approaching Daric from behind. It happened so fast that the aliens in the corridor didn’t react until Adam already had Daric by the neck and with the bolt launcher pressed against his temple. He spun the alien around, facing the others at the doorway.

“Stay back or I’ll blow his head clean off.”

The older alien struggled in Adam’s strong grip but was unable to break free.

“Stop it!” Adam growled in his ear. “Relax and you just may live through this.”

“Stay!” Daric barked out to his troops, like a master to a dog. The obedient officers obeyed.

“Now back out and close the door,” Adam added to the instructions.

The aliens focused on Daric.

“Comply,” he said. Without the slightest hesitation, the officers left the room and the door slid shut.

Adam spun Daric around and shoved him into a nearby chair, the weapon now aimed between the golden eyes. Through the clear plastic of the nose shield, Adam noticed matching black patches on the brown skin below them. The alien was smiling.

“I have been studying you for a while now, Adam Cain, even before arriving in the Kac. You do not disappoint. Your challenge points will be phenomenal, and a lure to any who dare face you in the arena.”

Adam ignored him, choosing to scan the room for secondary ingress and egress. A bank of monitors on the wall caught his attention. They showed various scenes throughout the ship—and all with looping images of him in corridors, stairwells, and even fighting the equipment techs near the holding cells.

Stunned, Adam turned his attention back to Daric.

“Yes, we have been monitoring you all along, very impressive.” Daric rose from the chair and walked to the monitors. Adam held the weapon on him, but didn’t protest. The alien leader pressed controls on the wall and the images on some of the screens switched scenes.

“Of the twenty-five prisoners, nine managed to escape. All except two went to the landing bay and were promptly recaptured. A creature known as a Que’l joined you in moving farther into the ship rather than seek escape to the outside. Only you made it this far, attributed to your ingenious disguise.”

Daric moved to his desk and sat down. Again, Adam didn’t stop him. Instead, he moved to the chair he’d forced Daric into earlier and sat down. He looked at the weapon in his hand then back to the smiling alien face.

“Correct. All the weapons of my officers have been disabled,” he said, answering the unasked question. “I was waiting in the corridor for you notice me.” Daric laughed. “Do not fault yourself, Adam Cain. The Nuor are masters at the game. We arrange scenarios and watch how others react. Your moves were efficient and effective, and even somewhat unpredictable.”

“You let your own people die just to see how far I could get?”

“Do not worry. They were players to be sacrificed. Their bloodlines will be awarded ancillary immunity points. They will not suffer.”

Adam eyed the alien. He was slightly taller than Adam, husky, yet older than the other two Nuoreans he’d fought earlier. Daric also had a broken nose and would unconsciously favor the injury in a fight. Adam could take him, even without a weapon.

As if reading his mind, Daric produced a three-foot long polished metal sword from behind the desk. He held it up for inspection.

“We call this a ressnel, the weapon of preference in the arena. Even injured, I assure you I am an expert in its use.” He set the blade on the desk. “I have prevailed in thirty-eight prior challenges, most against much younger opponents. Although the prospect of head-to-head combat with you is nearly irresistible, at this point I would prefer to save you for a later date and a more formal setting.”

“What is this all about?” Adam growled. “Who are you guys and why have you started this war with—with everyone?”

“You mistake our intentions, Adam Cain,” replied Daric with sincerity. “We are not at war with your galaxy. To the contrary, we have no animosity towards you or any other race we find here.”

“No, you just want to kill us.”

“Not without purpose.” Daric leaned back in his chair. “We do not want your land, possessions or raw materials. All we seek is competition, players for our games. In my galaxy, we have run low on immunity races. As a consequence, society is stagnating. Without mobility through point acquisition, there can be no advancement.”

“It sounds like a messed up system, if you ask me,” Adam said.

“I assure you, it is not. We acquire points from everyday activities, such as life-skill proficiency, production quotas, even time on station performing assigned tasks. Yet we gain more points—along with a share of the possessions of others—by ritualized combat challenges. Seldom are any Nuoreans killed during such contests, yet they allow the entire race to develop skills at combat techniques. We do not fear these challenges. Indeed we welcome them, we seek them out.”

“It sounds like you use these points like we use money.”

Daric’s face grew animated behind the plastic mask. “That is correct! We have been monitoring your communications for some time, so I understand what you say. You are correct. Yet it is only through the most-risky challenges that a special category of points are awarded—immunity points. With these we may challenge others, while protecting all or a portion of our awards package.”

“And you earn immunity points by fighting us.”

“Precisely! As mentioned, challenges between Nuoreans are seldom fatal. Yet immunity challenges are always to the death. This implied level of danger, requiring an elevated skill level to prevail, is why challenges with aliens are so sought after.”

“But you can’t possibly expect to arrange individual contests with every being in the galaxy.”

“Of course not. Nuoreans can also acquire immunity points as members of teams facing off against fleets and armies of players—what you call warriors. The amount is considerably less, yet even the lowest-skilled among us can gain immunity points through participation in large-scale challenges.”

Daric paused, locking his eyes with Adam. When he continued, his tone was more…deadly. “That is why Nuoreans actively seek challenges. We do not run, we do not cower, we do not fear. This is what we are bred for. I have studied your galaxy through the abundance of open communications filtering freely throughout. I know how most of your species view such things. Most fight only when necessary. Nuoreans fight out of necessity. We fight to live.”

Adam pursed his lips. “So what now?”

Daric smiled again. “This is just the beginning. Although we have been monitoring the Kac, we have only just now made a live incursion into your galaxy. And you should be honored, Adam Cain. You are in the presence of the Nuorean tasked with the evaluation of your resident species, along with the assignment of immunity points for each. It should be a prideful moment that you learn Humans are at the top of the scale. In addition to that, I and my team will be evaluating individuals from all your races as they become known to us. Immunity points will be assigned to all.”

“Then what?”

“As the list grows, the identity and score of each individual player will be posted for all Nuoreans in the Kac to view. Those at the proper skill level will be able to challenge these individuals in single challenge.”

“To the death?”

“Yes, to the death.”

“And what happens if one of these aliens wins the challenge?”

Daric cocked his head. “In that event, the score for the victor goes up, making him even more attractive to potential challengers. Unfortunately, it never ends well for the challenged. They will continue to fight until defeated.”

Now Adam smiled. “So when do we start?”

“Patience, Adam Cain. We have only now acquired eight hundred six species from the gathering around your capital planet. They must all go through the evaluation process before individual points can be awarded to their kind based on general findings. In the meantime, a fleet of your Kac vessels containing many of these species is even now assembling, intending to challenge the Nuor. This was expected, indeed planned for. We will learn much during this confrontation, with the value of immunity points changing as the proficiency of each participating species is evaluated.”

“And what about me?”

“You will be transported to a holding planet, along with members from hundreds of other species we’ve acquired so far. Again, you should feel prideful. You are the only creature in this galaxy to which I have revealed our true intentions. You are the premiere player in your galaxy. From what I have witnessed so far, that distinction may be accurate.”

“In that case, maybe you should be kissing my hand, you sonofabitch. You think you have this all worked out, but you don’t.”

“Ah, I love the antagonism. You are trying to insult and provoke me. It is classic game strategy. I do hope there are many more like you.”

“You can bet your sweet ass there are, and we don’t like being played.”

Daric shook his head. “I’m afraid it is too late for that, Adam Cain. The game has already begun.”

Chapter 6

The allied response fleet numbered nine hundred forty-eight vessels, and after much squabbling, the Juireans prevailed and were placed in command. The Humans had only sixty-one ships to contribute, with the bulk of their forces far away in the Orion-Cygnus arm of the galaxy.

Riyad was okay with this. Humans had taken the lead against the Sol-Kor, and look what that got them. Now it was the Juirean’s turn to be the point of the spear.

Riyad and Sherri boarded one of the only eight Human warships in the vicinity of Formil and joined up with the fleet near the planet LocVer. The alien fleet had bolted away from Formil, but then slowed and weighed anchor a third of the way into a section of the galaxy closest to Formil, a place called the Radis Spur. This was the area the Juireans had retreated to after leaving their homeworld in advance of the attack by the Kracori. They had additional resources in the area, which could come in handy. They also knew local space intimately. That, too, was an advantage.

It would take the allied force four days to reach the invaders from the assembly point. Trimen O’lac was aboard one of the twenty Formilian ships in the fleet, communicating with the Riyad and Sherri several times a day. He was going ballistic with each passing hour, frustrated because he wasn’t allowed to set off after Lila. The trail of the Aris ship had vanished twelve hours after leaving the Formilian system, yet before it did, it had maintained a straight line course, one leading directly for the Kidis Frontier.

Zee had been found there, near the planet Incus, so it was reasoned that was where the Aris would be found. Their original world had been destroyed three billion years before, yet it was possible they set up shop somewhere nearby. Even then, over such an incredible passage of time, stars tend to wander. It would be a miracle if anything was even remotely similar to how it was back then.

It was the only clue Trimen had to work with—until he found Adam and learned what he knew.

At the moment, it was believed Adam was aboard one of the three-mile long warships in the invader’s fleet, a force of over four hundred ships just floating in space, seemingly waiting for something to happen. The confidence the aliens exhibited in the face of an impending attack by over double their assets made the strategists nervous. The enemy knew the allies’ capabilities better than they knew those of the invaders. Still, the attack on Formil had to be answered. After the battle, the allies would have a better idea what they were up against. That was another reason the planners were nervous.

“I have reserved a vessel for after the battle so we may go after Lila,” Trimen told Sherri over the comm link.

“Assuming that ship survives.”

“I have been assured this initial contact will be tentative at best, designed to probe the offensive and defensive capabilities of the invaders.”

Trimen was more privy to the attack plans than were Sherri and Riyad. It was as though the Juireans were keeping the Human contingent in the dark intentionally, just so they could claim credit for whatever victory could be pulled from the jaws of the humiliating defeat at Formil. A senior captain was in charge of the Humans. Sherri and Riyad were on his ship.

“Any plans for the big muther, where Adam is…we assume,” Sherri asked

“None at this time,” answered Captain Douglas Davy of the USF Lexington. “I’ve asked the Juireans repeatedly and they just say it depends on the flow of the battle. I get the impression rescuing Captain Cain is low on their list of priorities.”

Adam had almost single-handily demolished the entire Juirean high command a year ago, so Sherri could understand their reluctance to go out of their way to recover him, if he was still alive. She had a feeling he was. The aliens were more intent on capturing members of different species than killing them, having something to do with these games they were planning. That gave her hope that Adam was also just one of the hundreds of prisoners.

She smiled. That could prove to be a mistake on the alien’s part.

* * *

“Your fleet approaches,” Daric said with glee. He had come to Adam’s new cell—this one larger and more secure. Realizing the futility of escape aboard the huge starship, Adam chose to bide his time until they reached the holding planet, as Daric called it. That would open up a whole new variety of escape possibilities.

“Are you preparing to surrender?” Adam asked the Lead-Player.

Daric smiled. “I will indeed miss you when you are gone, Adam Cain. You are a quick and intelligent being. I enjoy your humor, even as I know it is rooted in hatred for me.”

“Bingo!”

“I do not understand.”

“It’s a game we play. You just won.”

“As is appropriate and expected.”

“Do I get invited to a front-row seat for the coming battle?”

Daric frowned. “Why would you? No, you are to remain here. This coming challenge is of no concern to you.”

“Not unless you lose it.”

“That will not happen. There is a surprise waiting for your forces. The possibility of our defeat is beyond calculation.”

“Still, wouldn’t you want to have me near so you can gloat about your victory?”

“You are attempting to persuade me to remove you from your cell, ostensibly so you can affect some kind of escape. That will not happen, and your efforts are disappointingly transparent. If you wish to go against me, please make it more challenging. Otherwise I may downgrade your score, placing you within reach of many more challengers once the list is distributed.”

“Sorry, dude. I’m still trying to learn the rules.”

“They will be explained to you as needed. For now, be aware that the first team challenge is about to begin, and the Nuoreans are anxious to begin scoring points, at the expense of hundreds of your warships and their crews.”

Chapter 7

Riyad and Sherri were on the bridge of the Lexington, a fast-attack battleship with carrier capacity for sixty fighters. Captain Douglas Davy invited them to watch the battle, although assigning them no duties. All the crew stations were already manned.

The enemy fleet had almost begrudgingly moved when the allies approached, like it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. They formed a line of ships, four deep and separated by half a million miles between each row, then they charged their weapons.

Instruments aboard the Lexington read the electronic signatures of the weapons as standard flash cannon. There were three hundred twenty-four large ships with eighteen batteries each, with the remainder of the four-hundred ship force made up of smaller vessels with only six batteries each. The three-mile long carrier vessels—three of them in the fleet—had three hundred weapons ports, plus several launch bays containing hundreds of small fighters.

The allies had thirteen huge capital ships of their own, seven hundred cruisers and destroyer-class vessels, and two hundred smaller support vessels. There were over six hundred small fighters in the launch bays of the carriers.. The two-man strikecraft should protect the larger ships from harassing attacks by the enemy fighters, allowing them to concentrate fire on the invader ships of similar size and firepower. Unfortunately, there were no units to go head-to-head with the three monster craft. Maybe after enough enemy units had been neutralized, the allies would attempt a concentrated attack on the alien behemoths.

Strategy would depend on how the battle progressed. A large part of the allied command wanted only a brief encounter, something quick in and quick out. That was the preliminary strategy. After that, a more long-term plan could be formulated.

The fighters were released, filling the tac screens with bright blue dots signifying friendly forces. Moments later, swarms of answering contacts poured from the ass-end of the huge carriers, these painted red on the screens.

At the same time, the destroyers and cruisers accelerated to attack speed and closed on the fringes of the fleet of waiting enemy ships. The invaders were greatly outnumbered, but they still turned toward the incoming ships and began saturating the space between forces with flares of brilliant blue-white plasma.

At the last moment, the diffused screen of allies warcraft joined up to form a concentrated phalanx only twenty ships square, yet with row upon row behind them. Shields glowed white, yet they continued until breaking through the thin line of enemy warships.

“Looks like standard diffusion screens, Captain,” a crewmember reported. “Nothing really high tech.”

Captain Davy remained silent. His ship was still in the rear, held in reserve along with the large Juirean Class Fives and Sixes. It wouldn’t be wise to commit your big guns until you knew if the aliens had any secret weapons up their sleeves.

The glowing thread of allied ships sliced through the enemy lines with relative ease and then looped back over, striking another part of the layer of invader craft like some sort of sea monster breaking the surface then diving back underwater at another point. Enemy losses began to pile up; however they were matched by allied losses.

Calculating the numbers, the Juireans gave the order for the larger ships to attack. Over half of the response fleet would be lost at this rate, but the enemy would be completely destroyed. The Juireans were okay with that.

The Lexington moved out, temporarily engaging a light-speed gravity-well before dropping out and proceeding on maneuvering wells only. At this distance, even the flash from the current battle would take minutes to reach them, so it appeared as though the ship was heading into clear space. Then the scene changed. They were in the mix, with flashes lighting the space around them in every direction. A hazy blue film covered the forward and side viewports as diffusion shields absorbed enemy flash bolts. Tiny fighters chased each other in and around the larger ships, even as cannon batteries aboard the Union battleship began to pick off invader ships with deadly accuracy. The enemy vessels could be destroyed—as could the allies. It was the uniformity of technology that gave hope to the forces from the Milky Way.

“Incoming, Captain!” another of the bridge crew called out. “New targets, bearing oh-nine-five, up forty.”

“Confirm new targets,” the captain ordered.

“Confirmed, sir. These are new, not part of the original fleet.”

“Give me a count.”

A slight hesitation, then: “Nine hundred to a thousand, many still coming in range.”

“Open a link with fleet comman—”

“Fleet command on the box, sir!”

“The retreat order is given,” said a calm Juirean voice over the bridge speakers. “Regroup at coordinates Contingency Green. I repeat, regroup at C-Green. Acknowledge.”

Davy pressed the comm button on the arm of his command chair. “Acknowledged, C-Green…breaking off attack.” Then he spoke to the bridge crew. “Recover all strikecraft. Transmit departure vector six-eight-eight. Have all craft assume that heading. Report when all birds are in the nest.”

He turned to Sherri and Riyad. “Looks like there are a lot more of those bastards around than we anticipated. No wonder they weren’t worried.”

Sherri didn’t respond. All she was concerned about was Adam. Her earlier feeling that he was alive was gone, replaced by the terrifying proposition that she may never see him again.

Sensing her discomfort, Riyad placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

She whispered in his ear. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I don’t want any of these guys to see me cry.”

* * *

Riyad and Sherri were alone in her stateroom. Neither had spoken for several minutes, each lost in their thoughts. A box squawked on the bulkhead.

“Ms. Valentine, this is Captain Davy.”

“I’m here. So is Riyad.”

“There’s a ship approaching, transmitting an old Union transponder code. I ran it through the system and it came up classified. After further investigation the ship was identified as an experimental vessel designated the Mark IV. Wasn’t that your old ship, Mr. Tarazi?”

Both Sherri and Riyad froze. It was Riyad who answered. “Where is it now?”

“That’s the strange thing. It appeared for a moment, sent out a rendezvous request, and then disappeared. It just came back on the screens about half-a-light from us, paralleling our course.”

“It’s made no threating moves?”

“No, sir, why would it?”

“Never mind. We’re on our way to the bridge.”

* * *

When they reached the bridge, a concerned Captain Davy pulled them aside. “What’s going on here? You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“In a way we have. The Mark IV was the ship the mutant Panur converted into a trans-dimensional jump ship,” Riyad reported.

“The one that took you to the Sol-Kor universe?”

“One and the same.”

“What happened to it?”

“Lila—the same Lila that now rules the galaxy—took it and met back up with Panur. Then she returned, but not the ship. It’s assumed Panur kept it.”

Now Captain Davy’s expression matched that of Sherri and Riyad. Like nearly everyone in the galaxy, he knew of Panur and his powers.

“What should I do? You know him better than I do,” said the captain.

“Can you open a link to the Najmah Fayd—that’s the name I gave the ship?”

“We don’t have a line, but we can send a flash in his direction and see if he answers.”

“Do it,” said Riyad. “I’d like to talk to him before you let him aboard your ship.”

* * *

Ten minutes later the gray, almost featureless face of Panur was on a screen in the secure comm room—the SCIF—aboard the Lexington. Sherri and Riyad were visible to the alien, while Captain Davy leaned against a wall out of sight.

“Greetings, my friends,” said the alien, his voice unemotional.

“What the hell, Panur? Why are you here?” Sherri said, cutting right to the chase.

Panur was taken aback by her abruptness. “Forgive me, but I have been monitoring events; I always have. Did you expect me to sit idle with Lila missing?”

“I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

“I may be a mutant, but I still have feelings,” Panur countered. “Lila is still the closest I have to an equal. I could never forget her.”

“What about that monstrosity you created…J’nae?” asked Riyad. “The last thing I saw the two of you were all buddy-buddy.”

“Please watch your tone, Mr. Tarazi. She is here with me.”

Sherri’s jaw drop opened while Riyad gnashed his teeth. “You brought that thing into the Milky Way? I don’t know what to say,” Riyad growled.

“Relax, friends, she is completely rehabilitated and now on our side.”

“I didn’t know we had a side,” Sherri said when the shock subsided.

“Indeed we do. We are here to help recover Lila, yet I must admit, I’m at a loss as to what happened to her. All I’ve been able to discern is that she was taken from her chambers. What—and who—could have done this is the mystery. It is obviously something of which even I am unaware.”

When neither Sherri nor Riyad spoke, Panur leaned in closer, his dark eyes seeming to reach through the screen and into the room where they sat. “Are you going to allow me aboard your ship, or will I have to take matters into my own hands?”

Riyad turned back to Captain Davy.

Davy shrugged. “From what I’ve heard of him, he’s coming aboard whether we invite him or not.”

Riyad looked back at Panur and nodded.

“That’s better. Oh, and from the outcome of your recent skirmish, it looks like you could use my help.”

* * *

The Najmah Fayd was given permission to enter docking bay three, which was cleared of other vessels and locked down from the rest of the ship. Once the large hangar doors closed and the atmosphere returned, Sherri, Riyad and Captain Davy entered the huge chamber, dressed in thick coats to protect against the lingering cold of outer space.

The hatch cracked and cycled open. Panur was there, all four-foot-six-inches of him. Behind the mutant stood another creature, over seven-feet-tall, with an oblong face, scaly light yellow skin and shoulder-length yellow hair. This was J’nae, an experimental creation of the mutant Panur and the former Queen of the ravenous, flesh-eating Sol-Kor. Her expression conveyed contempt for the Humans, making Sherri doubt Panur’s assertion that they were now all on the same team.

The two mutants stepped from the infamous TD-starship.

Sherri and Riyad had a lot of experience with Panur—not so much with J’nae. Every prior encounter with her was only heartbeats away from impending death—and always theirs. There had never been a time when they didn’t know her as an enemy.

Panur stepped aside, clearing the space between the Humans and the Sol-Kor mutant. “J’nae, you remember Sherri Valentine and Riyad Tarazi.”

“Of course; I remember everything.” The towering alien female spoke in English without need of a translation device, the same as Panur. The mutants were fluent in every language in the translation database of the Milky Way.

The Humans didn’t respond, nor did they offer hands to shake. They stood staring suspiciously at the deadly mutant.

“I understand your trepidation,” J’nae spoke to fill the awkward silence. “Be assured my creator has weaned from my being all evil tendencies, allowing me to see the truth about the Sol-Kor, and even myself. I now exist to assist the efforts of my creator. At the present, that is to be of service to your galaxy during this current crisis.”

“Very good, J’nae!” Panur exclaimed. “Now can we all be friends? There is so much to do and so little time.”

Riyad leaned over and stuck his face only inches from Panur’s. “That was all sweet and well-rehearsed, however, it doesn’t change anything. But you’re here now, what’s next?”

“First, I need to know all that has happened over the past ten days, ever since Lila’s celebration was so rudely interrupted by her uninvited guests.”

* * *

It didn’t take long to brief Panur on what they knew of the Nuor, Lila’s abduction and Adam’s captivity, after which the mutant insisted on a link with Trimen O’lac aboard the Formilian flagship.

“Adam said this three-billion-year-old orb told him where the Aris have been in hibernation?” Panur questioned.

On a screen in the wardroom, Trimen shook his handsome face. “Zee helped build the hibernation pods, so she knows the location. She told Adam, yet he did not relate this information to me during the brief time we had together before he left Formil.”

Panur drummed his long fingers on the table. “And Adam is currently being held prisoner by the Nuor, these beings we assume are from Andromeda?”

“As much as we can tell—which isn’t much, just a bunch of assumptions.” Sherri offered. “We assume he’s still alive, since we got the impression they don’t like to waste good player stock, at least not before meeting them in formal combat.”

“Adam would be a prime player in their games,” Panur stated. “If they’ve been monitoring the galaxy, they would have heard of him.” He turned to Douglas Davy. “Captain, do you have a track on the Nuorean fleet? There must be a staging area somewhere in the Radis Spur.”

“We sent probes after them. Their standard gravity drives aren’t much better than ours—if at all—so we’ve been able to keep up. They now have six of those big ships. They’re all part of a larger fleet. We’re getting reports of raids at other locations within the galaxy.”

“They come from Andromeda, yet their gravity drives are standard. There must be a jump portal somewhere near the edge of the galaxy.”

“What’s a jump portal?” Riyad asked. “Is that like a TD-portal?”

“No.” Panur looked to the ceiling as if deep in thought. “They must have discovered how to elongate a singularity.” He looked to J’nae for confirmation.

“Yes, that would allow them to focus the effects,” she replied.

“What does that mean?” Captain Davy asked. “A focused gravity-well?”

“Exactly,” Panur answered, conveying respect for the quick-thinking officer. “I can see the benefits. They could build a massive set of generators, yet limit the effects on nearby space. By confining the effects to a narrow beam, they could draw in space from opposite ends and across incredible distances. It would be a variation on wormhole technology, yet much more refined and manageable. I give them credit for inventing such a device. The Nuoreans have been planning this invasion for quite some time. Captain Davy, I will need a small speeder.”

“You’re not going after Adam without us!” Sherri protested. Riyad scooted closer to her, just in case there was any confusion as to who ‘us’ referred to.

“Of course; the Nuoreans have undoubtedly heard of you as well. You will be the bait.”

“I demand to go as well,” Trimen said. “Lila is Formilian—”

“She is a hybrid, neither Formilian nor Human,” J’nae corrected.

“That does not matter. To me she is Formilian—and family.”

“You may come, my friend,” Panur said with a smile.

Sherri shook her head. “We may be able to get close, but how do you think they’ll react to the two of you?” She was referring to the mutants.

“You mean the Human pilot and co-pilot for the spacecraft?”

The mutant’s response left Sherri blinking her eyes in confusion. “What—”

Slowly Panur’s smooth gray features began to change. He appeared out of focus for a moment until his face morphed in that of a Human male, in his mid-twenties, with light brown hair and brown eyes.

“This takes considerable energy to maintain such a cell manipulation for long periods,” the mutant explained. “The features fight to return to their normal state. I can sustain such altered appearance for about four hours—J’nae approximately an hour—before the need for an infusion of direct energy. At that point we would return to normal. That should be long enough to pass any cursory inspections.”

Sherri met Riyad’s wide eyes. “What do you think?”

“I’m excited. I figured at some point we’d go after Adam and Lila. I never thought we’d have two of the most-powerful mutants in the galaxy—hell, any galaxy—helping us. I say let’s do it,” Riyad replied.

Sherri was still nervous about having Panur and J’nae this close, let alone part of the team, but she couldn’t argue with Riyad’s logic. She’d rather have the pair on her side than not. She nodded. “Okay then, let’s go get our boy.”

Chapter 8

Adam didn’t complain when Daric kept coming to him with updates of both the recent battle, as well as their progress on reaching the holding planet he’d mentioned; it gave him operational intelligence he wouldn’t otherwise have. For some reason, the alien felt compelled to keep him informed. Of course, most of it was delivered in the form of boasting.

He bragged on how thoroughly the Nuoreans had surprised the allied forces with the introduction of a force over three times their original estimates. He also gloated on how quickly the battle devolved into a rout, with enemy forces running for the hills as fast as they could. All this was according to plan, and a strategy worked out long ago through an understanding of game theory.

He also told Adam they were nearing the holding planet. There he would be placed with the thousands of other species already collected so far, not only from the Formilian celebration, but also from hundreds of raids the bulk of his fleet had been making while Daric ran his first gambit at Formil.

“So when does all this fighting start?” Adam asked just as Daric was leaving his cell.

“The challenges?” The Nuorean turned back to him. “That is months away. First arenas must be constructed on the planet. However, I may allow some of the lesser players in your galaxy to be challenged, even on natural terrain. This will help maintain morale among my fellow beings, as they begin to acquire direct immunity points beyond those from space battles.” He laughed. “I fear your military forces may be reluctant to meet us head-on after their last encounter.”

“Don’t count on that. Just like you, now we know what we’re up against.”

“And that will give you more confidence to face us?”

“No, but it will allow us to devise a strategy for your defeat.”

Daric smiled. “At first I found your bravado entertaining. Now it is bordering on insanity. You must realize our strength is not only the vessels in this fleet. The entire Nuorean race has access to your galaxy. If you manage to destroy a portion of this force, there will be countless others to replace us. To defeat the Nuor you must destroy all of us, not just this exploratory contingent.”

Daric left before Adam could come up with a witty retort. This was fortunate, because at the moment, he couldn’t think of one.

Chapter 9

Adam stepped out of the landing craft and into a blast of heat and brilliant afternoon sunlight. He squinted and sniffed the air. It was both dusty and dank, with evident humidity. As he stepped away, he could sense the gravity was not as strong as Earth. Looking around at the inhabitants of the massive compound, he could see why.

There were literally thousands of aliens of a greater variety in one place than he’d ever seen before. Generally, they were Primes, which would make them oxygen-breathing, carbon-based lifeforms who existed within a narrow gravity range for effective motion. The Nuoreans would have selected this world as a happy medium for the majority of the races, favoring the lighter gravity creatures over those accustomed to more. Species like Humans could function just fine in lighter gravity, while the opposite wasn’t true. At least Adam had that going for him.

Armed Nuoreans prodded Adam and the rest of the prisoners from the shuttle and through a gate into a guarded and walled compound before releasing their shackles. Then they hustled back aboard the ship and departed, leaving the twenty-five new arrivals standing awkwardly near the wall of the compound, wondering what to do next.

Adam was surprised to see that the boundary of the holding area extended from the arid, almost desert-like terrain he was on, all the way to a thin jungle at the far end, and beyond. The barrier wall disappeared into the growth, giving him the impression that the compound was huge. It would have to be. Daric had said recently that the Nuoreans had collected over two thousand species, many of which had multiple members, although not much more than five or six of any one kind, as Adam could tell. That would be well over ten thousand creatures within the compound.

Looking out at the amazing variety of life before him, Adam was overwhelmed by the graphic enormity of the galaxy and all it had to offer. And this was only the beginning. The Nuoreans would continue to abduct races until they had all the advanced species in the galaxy under their control, or at least rated. The invaders were here for the long-haul, and unless something was done to stop them, indigenous intelligent life in the Milky Way would become nothing more than pawns in the largest series of gladiator games ever imagined, and lasting thousands of years. All advancement would end. All independence and aspirations by individual species would vanish. They would exist only to supply fodder for the Nuoreans, as a means for them to advance and acquire material wealth within their society

Adam couldn’t let that happen.

Another Human came running towards him. It was a man, about forty, with a torn shirt, dirty jeans and tennis shoes without socks.

“Another Human! Damn, am I glad to see you!” The man spoke English with a slight French accent. He took Adam’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I’m Pierre, Pierre Savoy.”

“Adam Cain.”

The man’s mouth fell open and his eyes wide. “No shit! You’re Adam Cain?”

Adam nodded.

Then the animated look on Pierre’s face vanished. “Do they know who you are?”

Adam nodded again.

“They got you too. I guess now we’re really screwed.”

“Where did they get you?”

“We were hauling parts to Hyben from the Union when these bastards showed up. They fired a bolt of some kind at us and blew out the entire electrical system. Then they just sat out there for about nine hours. At first we thought they were waiting for us to die, but then they came aboard. I have to admit, we didn’t put up much of a fight. The air was getting low and it was freezing by then.”

“There are more of you?”

“Three total, the other two part of my crew. We got here five days ago; staked out a patch of dirt with one of the few shelters on it. We’ve had to fight off about a dozen aliens to keep it. Do you know what’s going on?”

Adam looked around at the rest of the aliens from the shuttle. Most had wandered off, while some were met by others of their kind, just as Adam had. A few were standing back, watching Adam, looking to him for guidance, including the solitary Que’l. The huge-headed walking battering ram could come in handy.

Adam nodded for him to follow.

“Take me to the others,” he said to Pierre Savoy.

Adam was aghast at the conditions in the compound. As Pierre had intimated there were very few of the thatched-roof shelters to protect the prisoners against the intense heat and light. What there were of them were being constantly fought over. During the ten minute walk to the Human’s encampment, he witnessed nine brutal hand-to-hand battles taking place, often between small clusters of aliens against other gangs. The solitary aliens without strength in numbers sat or were sprawled out on the ground in the blazing sun, some appearing dead, while others barely alive.

There was a definite hierarchy already established. The two Juireans in Adam’s group were joined by four more. As they walked to their designated area, other species deferred to them. It was the same for Adam and Pierre. If the reputation of the Humans wasn’t known before entering the compound, Pierre and his cohorts must have schooled them on it—with often bloody consequences.

Having the hulking Que’l walking behind them didn’t hurt either.

Adam turned back to the square-headed alien. “I’m Adam Cain.”

“Andic,” said the Que’l. “I was in the stadium when you and Riyad Tarazi took on our greatest Drunage player, Dravis Hurr. I was both impressed and upset.”

Adam smiled. “Dravis and I became good friends after that.”

“Yes, I heard of his exploits against the Sol-Kor.”

“I’m glad to have you by my side,” Adam said. “It increases our chance of making it out of here alive.”

“As I fully intend to happen.”

The area claimed by the Humans was twenty feet round, consisting of a raised platform about two feet off the ground, protected from the sunshine by a thatched awning, at least during the hottest part of the day. The other two Humans sat on the edge of the wooden platform in the shade of the awning. They had stationed themselves on each side, backs to one another, on guard. An alien with purple skin and a long, spiked tail lay dead in the dirt about ten yards away.

“Trouble?” Pierre asked as he joined his crew.

“Always,” said one of the men. He was staring at Adam, his eyes wide. “Aren’t you Adam Cain?”

“Yep.” He reached out his hand to shake. The man took it enthusiastically.

“I’m Manny Brown, from San Francisco. Goddamn, they got you, too.”

“I took a few of them with me beforehand,” said Adam with a grin.

“I’m Billy Kring, Corpus Christi, Texas,” said the other man.

Adam shook his hand as well before introducing Andic to the Humans. They accepted him into the shelter without question. If he was with Adam Cain, then he was okay.

“Not exactly the Ritz, is it?” Adam commented, looking around the shelter—if you could call it that.

“Back in the forest, some of the aliens have started to build better shelters,” Pierre explained. “Some of the stronger species wait until they’re done and then take over. It’s pretty cutthroat around here. The bastards with the guns have begun to string lines with what they term fresh water on a drip system, which just sets up another battlefield. Oh, and for toilet facilities, you just dig a hole and go. It’s going to get pretty rank around here real soon.”

“Yeah, not much thought was put into this place,” Billy added. “A lot of the aliens can’t take the heat or they need a lot more water to survive than we’ve been given. Other groups go at each other like cats and dogs, probably instinct or something. Bottom line, they’re dropping like flies around here.”

“What about food?”

Manny snorted. “That’s the worst of it. They drop bundles of crap from drones and then everyone just dives in. The strongest get some, the others don’t. It’s a real shithole here, Mr. Cain. What the hell’s going on? Who are these guys and why have they brought us here?”

“I’ll tell you what I know. It won’t be encouraging, but at least it will put things in context.”

The three other Humans and one Que’l huddled in closer as Adam filled them in. When he was done, they leaned back, most with their mouths hanging slack, vacant looks in their eyes.

“We are to compete with the—you called them Nuoreans?” asked Andic. “I would welcome that.”

“It’s to the death, buddy,” Adam cautioned.

“Is there another way? I would welcome the chance to kill as many of these creatures willing to face me.”

“I’ve fought them,” Adam said. “They have skills, and a lot higher than basic. It won’t be easy, especially for the bulk of the species in the galaxy.”

Three stocky-looking aliens with leather skin and three-inch-long claws on stubby hands approached the shelter, eyes unblinking and steady on the gathering of Humans and Que’l. Adam looked at Pierre. “You’ve gotta be kidding? Do they really intend to attack?”

“Desperate people do desperate things.”

Adam stood up and faced the leather-skinned aliens. “Don’t do it,” he called out. “We’re Humans, and this is a Que’l. You won’t win. What we have to do now is stick toget—”

One of the aliens rushed forward, kicking up a small cloud of dust behind him. He was incredibly swift, probably the product of a heavy-gravity world. He landed on Adam before he could react, throwing him back onto the wooden platform. Sharp claws tore through Adam’s dark green uniform top, the one he still retained from his adventure aboard Daric’s ship. Adam cried out in pain as the claws dug into his chest.

Strong Human hands were on the alien’s body a moment later, pulling him off. Pierre and Billy pummeled the beast, breaking arms and legs before tossing his limp body out into the compound. A second attacker was thrown out of the shelter by others, creating his own small dust eruption as he hit the ground. Creatures in the compound raced forward to remove the bodies, plus that of the purple being with the spiked tail.

Andic swung his head from side to side and snorted, like an irritated bull, challenging any others test him. The third alien landed on Manny, slicing the skin of his bare left shoulder. Pierre and Billy rescued him, as well, and dispatched the third alien much as they had the other one.

Adam sat up, blood soaking his ripped uniform. Pierre looked down at him, an almost insane look on his face.

“You have to make an example out of the attackers. The word gets around and they leave you alone.”

“That was leaving you alone?”

“Some are just stupid.”

A shadow passed over the shelter. Adam got to his feet and stepped out into the daylight. A large craft was hovering over the compound. All the creatures stopped what they were doing to gawk at the silent craft. It was about two hundred feet high and moved until it was right above the jungle tree line.

“Attention players!” A loud voice boomed out from speakers on the hovering craft. “Attention players. I am Game-Master Daric (416) Kallen-Noc of the Nuor. I am the leader of the invasion force that has taken you captive. I have only now arrived on this world, and will now provide an explanation of why you are here and what is expected of you.

“First, I must apologize for the current conditions of your holding area. We do not normally treat our immunity players as such, preferring strong and healthy opponents for the games. Unfortunately, your sheer numbers, along with the surprisingly swift success of our retention program, has us behind schedule in providing adequate shelter, food or facilities for you. That will change with time. I ask for your patience and request that you do not kill each other in the meantime. It is our intention to help you stay alive, at least until the time comes for the games to begin.”

Daric had their attention. The compound was deathly quiet, all eyes looking skyward.

“As to why you are here…. You will be ranked and then made available for combat challenges by members of my race. This is how my species survives and prospers. It has been our way for thousands of years. As you can tell, there is no avenue for escape and rescue is not an option. As I speak, the Nuor are consolidating our presence in your galaxy. We cannot be defeated. This is a fact you must accept.

“Now I will explain more concerning the ranking system for our challenge matches. As you can imagine, the more highly-ranked species will carry the most immunity points. These beings will be held in reserve until members of my race can work through several lower level combatants. We save the best for the relatively few challenges at the top.

“Species will be ranked by combat skill and tactical expertise. I am the entity who will determine such rank, yet with our recent arrival in your galaxy, I have not had the opportunity to observe each race individually. Fortunately, having all of you in one area gives me and my staff this opportunity. Remember, only the strongest will be saved for the later challenges. All others will be made available for challenges much earlier, even before the formal combat arenas are complete.

“I ask again for your patience as we upgrade the compound to better provide for our honored players. The Nuor have taken great measures to bring you together. We do not wish you to suffer during your containment.

“That is all.”

The Humans looked at each other. “Did he just do what I think he did?” Billy Kring said.

Adam nodded. “He sure did. He just set every damn alien here against each other in the ultimate cage match. You thought it was bad before, hell you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

* * *

A few minutes later Andic excused himself to search the compound for others of his race. He told Adam he regretted leaving the Humans, but if species were to be evaluated individually, he owed it to others like himself to help them if he could.

“Perhaps an alliance, if they agree?” Adam offered. “There could be strength in numbers. Right now survival seems to be the order of the day.”

“I will discuss it with them, if they exist. If they do not, I will return and help the Humans. Adam Cain, you have saved us before. If anyone could again, it would be you.”

Adam turned to the other three Humans. “What’s it like in the jungle? Are there more resources, more cover?”

Pierre nodded. “There’s both, but also a lot more threats, as well as a lot of creatures better suited to living there. Some climb like monkeys, others are chameleons, able to blend into the foliage undetected. I’ve seen some things with six-inch long fangs that can run on all fours and jump twenty feet.”

Grimacing, Adam scanned the area around the small covered platform. “Okay then, if we’re going to stay here, we need weapons and more cover than we currently have. We also need to establish a kill-zone around the shelter. Did you see any plants in the jungle with large fronds or any bamboo in the forest?”

“Both,” said Billy Kring.

“Good, let’s gather as much as we can before things get too bad,” Adam said, taking command. “We go out only in pairs. We’ll make weapons from the bamboo and cover the shelter with frond sides. We don’t want to remain out in the open. We need a defensible shelter. I’ll go with Pierre to the forest; I need to get a lay of the land, and he seems to know it pretty well. Manny and Billy, you guys stay here and guard the shelter.”

The compound was rapidly devolving into a chaotic, deadly killing field. Aliens rolled on the ground, scratching at each other, while others ran past the two Humans with creatures on their backs, anchored by sharp claws impaled in bloody flesh. A few approached Adam and Pierre, before realizing who and what they were. The smarter ones backed away, content with seeking out weaker beings.

A few well-placed fists and feet sent the not-so-smart creatures scurrying away, nursing injuries.

The tree line was about three hundred yards from the shelter, and a lot of other creatures had the same idea as the Humans. They were gathering up every loose stick and rock they could find. Adam was relieved to find a type of bamboo plant in the jungle, yet like vegetation on most light-gravity worlds, it was of humongous proportion. Adam couldn’t use the two-foot thick sections for weapons, but he could the young growth at the base of the giant sprouts.

The two Humans began tugging at the four-inch diameter stalks, but even with their extra strength, they wouldn’t break. Then Adam knelt down close to the ground and cupped his hands. Moments later, a sparkling light appeared in the space between them.

“What the hell?” said Pierre, his face animated, lit by the dancing light. “What they’ve said about you is true. You do have powers.”

“Not powers,” said Adam. “Just a little alien technology I can call upon when needed. Cover me. If the Nuoreans are watching, I don’t want them to see what I’m doing.”

The static electricity balls Adam was able to conjure up with his ATD already carried a substantial amount of heat in them, but not enough to cut through stubborn foliage. Yet if he compressed the ball into a smaller space, the heat increased exponentially. In a few moments, the light was brighter and more-concentrated into a single point. Adam then commanded the tiny point of light to slice through the bamboo sprouts. Soon he had four sections of hard, segmented bamboo, each about six feet long.

Turning next to the wide, green fronds from neighboring palms, the pair was soon ready to begin the trek back to the shelter. Pierre pulled several bunches of fronds behind him, while Adam carried the bamboo shafts, along with a few smaller branches he found.

“Hold up,” he called out after a few minutes. “Watch these.” He set the bamboo on the ground and then raced off after a couple of nearby aliens.

He reached them seconds later and grasped both by the collars of their shirts. They fell to the ground, dislodging the precious cargo they carried in makeshift pouches made of the curled up fronts of their garments. Four rocks rolled out, each with at least one sharp edge. Adam scooped up the stones.

“Thanks,” he said to the startled aliens. “I need these.”

The much smaller creatures didn’t protest. They could recognize a Human when they saw one.

A few minutes later, Adam and Pierre returned to the shelter. Manny had a fresh cut on the side of his face, and two more aliens lay dead on the light-colored soil outside the shelter.

“The bastards never learn,” he said, swabbing the blood with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Take the frowns and drape them along the edge of the awning. They’ll form walls.”

“Not very secure walls,” Billy commented.

“Yeah, but the aliens won’t be able to see through. They won’t know what’s waiting for them on the other side. It’s more psychological than defensive. In the meantime, let’s start shaping these shafts into weapons.”

Adam sat on the edge of the platform and took one of the bamboo sticks. With a sharp rock, he managed to split one of the ends into four segments. Next he placed two of the smaller sticks he’d collected in the splits, pulling them into the shaft, separating the four sections even more. Next, he took a few strips from the palm fronds and tied the branches into place so they wouldn’t slide out.

He examined his quick handiwork. “Now we sharpen the four ends into needle-sharp points using the rocks.”

The weapon was six feet long, with four deadly tips spread out over a radius of eight inches.

“Make your own,” Adam said, grinning. “This one’s mine.”

* * *

An hour later, half the shelter was lined with a wall of green fronds and the four Humans sat guard with their imposing shafts of bamboo. Dozens of aliens filtered past, eying them with evil intent, but none challenged.

Adam cautioned Pierre and the others about mentioning his trick with the static electricity ball. It was about the only thing he could do with his ATD, yet it could be their ace-in-the-hole.

When night fell, that’s when things got really intense.

The nightvision of Humans isn’t very good, not compared to hundreds of other species in the galaxy. This soon became apparent as the compound filled with stalking beasts of nearly every shape and size, moving confidently in the gray gloom. Fortunately, the planet had two small moons, one nearly full and the other in a bright crescent. The night wasn’t completely dark, but it was still extremely dangerous.

The Human slept in shifts, with only one resting his eyes while the other three covered the shelter. Adam still had his glowing watch, so they switched every hour. They were all so tired, hungry and thirsty that even an hour was enough to fall into a deep sleep, at least for a few minutes. It helped, but wasn’t a routine to be sustained. Eventually bodies would give out, needing more time to recover.

They made it through the first night with only a few harmless skirmishes. At this point in the game, there were plenty of more-defenseless species to prey upon other than Humans.

As dawn brightened, Adam began to contemplate which of the species nearby would make the best meals. The Nuoreans would use the food drops as another means of grading species for their base instinctive impulses. Over the days and weeks, the drops would become bloody feeding frenzies of unbelievable carnage. Adam reasoned it might be better for the Humans to avoid the drops altogether and instead hunt from within the thousands of species in the compound for food.

Adam knew Daric wasn’t interested in preserving any of the species he’d gathered here. They were for testing and grading was all. If eventually they killed themselves off, at least the Nuorean would have his list. Then the homeworlds of all these creatures would be raided to acquire the best players for their games. Everyone here was expendable, including the Humans.

Adam moved out a few feet into the compound and placed a small stack of twigs and tinder into a small pile. Next he took a couple of sticks and began to rub them together. He wasn’t really trying to start a fire this way; rather, he hunched over to cover what he was actually doing and created another hot ball of electricity. The fire caught and he let the ball evaporate. He leaned back and surveyed his creation. A small fire was going, into which he placed more wood to grow flames.

“I don’t see where we need that to keep us warm, Mr. Cain,” Billy Kring said as he knelt beside Adam. “Hopefully you’re getting ready to cook some breakfast.”

Adam smiled at the square-jawed Texan. “Great minds think alike.”

He looked out across the compound. “You know, all these creatures are members of either the Expansion or the Union, so they’re intelligent and with a certain level of technological knowledge. They ain’t dumb animals. We can kill them, but it may be a little disconcerting having them for dinner, like eating your family pet.”

“We do what we must to survive, Adam.” Billy crossed his legs and sat down. “Which brings up a point: Why are we even bothering? The game’s been rigged in the Nuorean’s favor.”

“It is here, that’s for sure. But I’ve seen the technology of the aliens. It’s not any better than ours. They may have the means of re-enforcing their fleet, but they’re still just one race. The Sol-Kor had over a trillion of their kind and technology that allowed them to conquer entire worlds. I doubt the Nuoreans are like that. A unified Milky Way should be able to kick their ass.”

“I hope so.”

“It’s still early in the game, Billy—no pun intended. Just wait until we get our footing, then look out.”

“Any chance we might be around to see that happen?”

Adam nodded. “I’ve spent some time with their leader Daric. I don’t think he’d let us get killed in the compound. He has bigger plans for Humans.”

“Maybe for you, but he doesn’t know us from…Adam, now you can excuse the pun.”

“We’re all Humans. I’m no different from anyone else.”

“Not according to the movies I’ve seen.”

“They’re just stories, propaganda really. You put anyone else into the situations I’ve been in and they’d do just as well.”

“You missed your calling, Mr. Cain. You should have been a motivational speaker.”

Adam stood up. “Good. Now let’s go motivate us up some grub. After all, we’re being observed. Let’s not disappoint. Besides, I’m starving.”

* * *

The alien the Humans had for brunch didn’t have a lot of meat on him, but he was seven-feet-tall, so there was enough to go around. After the meal, Pierre and Manny took a sack made from the creature’s stomach and came back a few minutes later having filled it with warm water. It took a strong constitution to sip from the bag, but as Billy said earlier, you do what you have to do to survive.

Later that afternoon, the Nuoreans swarmed into the compound with stacks of wood planks, and a large metal tank with a gravity-fed watering trough surrounding the base. Once the aliens retreated, it was overwhelmed by thirsty creatures. Most didn’t fight, consumed instead by their immediate need for hydration. Enemies moments before, now buried their heads next to each other in the life-giving liquid.

Adam and Manny rushed to the wood pile and absconded with a dozen planks each, aided by the light gravity of this nameless world. They had no immediate plans for the wood, but it could come in handy, either for the shelter or the fire they were having trouble keeping supplied with fuel.

Another night passed and the fire helped secure the Human’s settlement. They slept in two-man shifts this time, and for three hours at a time. By morning’s light, they were feeling better, stronger and more energized for the challenges of the new day.

And that’s just what it brought—the first challenge.

A hundred Nuoreans poured into the compound and laid out a crude arena about forty feet square. They lined it with a low barrier of plastic partitions three feet high, enough to define the area yet not enough to block the view.

Next, a bare-chested Nuorean entered the arena, carrying the three-foot long sword Daric had told Adam was called a ressnel. He also had a net with an edge lined with needle-sharp stars of metal. Another Nuorean entered the field, wearing a solid black outfit with a single yellow stripe running diagonally down the chest.

Moments later, a protesting alien was dragged into the arena by two other Nuoreans. Adam didn’t recognize the species. He was about six feet tall, with long slender arms and an oblong head sitting sideways on top of a thin neck. His eyes were mounted on each end of the head, and a small mouth screamed for mercy.

He calmed down when a sword was placed in one hand and a net in the other. His body now conveyed resignation rather than confidence. This was an intelligent being and he knew what was coming next. His escorts left the arena, leaving only the two combatants and what Adam reasoned was an official of some sort, a monitor or referee.

The alien in the black uniform spoke: “This first challenge is between Nasoc (516) Kallen-Noc and the species Bac’col. It is for immunity points and will continue until termination of the life-force of either player. All are welcome to observe.”

The arena was about a hundred yards from the Human’s shelter and was soon surrounded by hundreds of curious aliens from the compound.

“Go,” said Billy Kring to Adam and Pierre. “Manny and I will watch the shelter.”

Most of the aliens in the compound were taller than the Humans, but the presence of the six-foot long spears in their hands helped clear a pathway for them to the edge of the arena. Adam was curious to see how these challenges worked, knowing full well that one—or more—awaited him in his foreseeable future.

A horn sounded and the action began.

The Nuorean—named Nasoc and obviously a veteran at such competitions—didn’t seem anxious to get it over with. Instead he circled his opponent, content to toy with him at first. The expression on the Nuorean was one of overwhelming glee. He also moved with precise foot-over-foot sideways steps, his body slightly crouched and well-balanced. Definitely a pro.

The other creature was not so coordinated. He continued to face his opponent, yet in jerky movements, holding the blade out in front of him with great effort. The sword was too heavy for the thin-boned alien, and the net was a drag on his ability to twist at the waist.

Nasoc then swept his sword and brought it down toward the head of the Bac’colean—or whatever they called themselves. To Adam, the movement by the Nuorean was extremely slow, almost deliberately so. It gave his overmatched opponent time to lift his blade to counter the strike. Metal met metal, and the Bac’colean fell to the ground, overcome by the weight of his sword combined with the force of the other. The net came sweeping in next, scraping against the thin skin and tearing open long swatches of bloody flesh.

Nasoc slapped his sword against the Bac’colean’s backside as he scrambled to his feet. He was having fun.

“Nasoc (516)…respect,” the referee cautioned.

The Nuorean fighter nodded. “As you wish.”

The next sweep of his sword was much quicker and better aimed. It sliced through the left arm of his opponent, sending the appendage falling to the ground with spurts of blood shooting from the point of separation. The woefully overmatched creature fell to his knees and dropped his sword. He was moments from toppling over.

Nasoc stepped forward in a smooth series of cross-over steps, and in perfect timing with his feet, lashed out with the sword at the neck of the Bac’colean. The head appeared to rest on the thin extension of his body, before it separated, split and dropped to the ground, followed moments later by the rest of the dead alien’s body.

The horn sounded again.

“The challenge is awarded to Nasoc (516) Kallen-Noc,” the referee announced. “As the victor, Nasoc (516) is awarded nine immunity points. Let the contest be recorded…let all animosity cease.”

The winning Nuorean bowed to the referee and then went to stand over his victim. With ceremony, he swept his sword over the corpse before striding proudly out of the arena.

The other Nuoreans left the compound as well, leaving the arena barriers as an indicator of things to come. A dozen aliens or more rushed into arena and began to fight over the remains of the Bac’colean. Two more creatures died in the fight, their remains soon evoking even more competition for the fresh meat of the fallen.

Adam and Pierre returned to the others. They had observed the brief fight from a distance, but not the details.

“They’re definitely skilled with the sword and net,” Adam said.

“It’s like the old gladiator fights,” Manny declared with disgust.

“This was obviously a low-level Nuorean,” Adam pointed out. “Yet I could tell he had a lot more skill then he needed for this challenge. The senior aliens are going to be even deadlier.”

“That’s just great,” Billy said, as he slumped down on the wooden platform of the shelter. “I’m not Spartacus, not even close.”

Adam had already asked the others about their military experience. They had none. They were the pilot and crew of a small cargo hauler, nothing more. None of them had ever fought an alien before, not until reaching the compound. But they were Human, so somethings just came naturally. However, going up against the unarmed and mainly ill-equipped creatures in the compound was not the same as entering an arena against skilled gladiators. Even Adam didn’t have experience in formal swordplay. But he was creative.

He offered to help the others counter combat techniques such as he’d witnessed in the arena. Pierre, Manny and Billy jumped at the opportunity to be trained by the legendary Adam Cain. For his part, Adam promised to teach them every dirty trick he knew, and going up against the aliens in the manner they expected was not what Adam intended. The only way they were going to survive was by doing the unexpected.

Chapter 10

The rescue team was given an MD-8c fast-attack vessel, designed for a crew of four. It was capable of achieving five-light and had banks of both energy and ballistic weapons.

Riyad was the designated pilot. He’d flown MD’s before, but never in actual combat. Seeing that confronting the Nuorean fleet in a single vessel was not their objective, his lack of combat experience was perfectly fine. The tiny ship shot out the rear of the Lexington and entered a deep gravity-well moments later.

The best estimates placed the enemy fleet four days away on full drive. Their beeline course would light up the space around them, making detection of the approaching ship easy for any passive monitors left in the fleet’s wake. That was fine, as well. The plan was for the ship to be captured, and thereby introduce into the alien force two of the most dangerous creatures alive, along with a couple of Humans and a Formilian, no slouches in their own right. After that, all bets were off—on both sides.

* * *

Sherri was in the galley, processing a cup of tea when she turned to find J’nae sitting on the couch, looking gigantic in the Human-size piece of furniture. At over seven-feet tall, she was an imposing figure. But it wasn’t her size that sent cold shivers through Sherri—it was her history.

“You are Adam Cain’s mate,” the alien female stated without warning.

“Ex-mate,” Sherri corrected. Lucky for her she hadn’t picked up the hot tea when she spotted J’nae. otherwise it would be all over the floor by now. “It’s complicated,” she concluded.

“I nearly killed him several times. I could have, you know.”

“He would have been only one of millions—perhaps billions—you’ve killed.” Sherri went to leave the galley but J’nae stopped her with more conversation.

“You do not trust me.”

Sherri whipped around with a look of stunned disbelief. “Like, duh, lady. Why in the hell would I trust you, just because Panur says you’re rehabilitated?” Sherri could only manage one air quote around rehabilitated. Her other hand held the cup of tea.

“I am not as I was; situations have changed, hence my new attitude.”

“What new attitude, you mean the one where you’re not going to send your ravenous hordes out to eat everyone they find? You’re evil, and you always will be.”

“That is a matter of perspective.”

“Wrong! Evil is evil no matter how you look at it.”

“You do not understand. When Panur created me, he did it so I could be the future of the Sol-Kor, the being who would change how they…survive. Given time, the Sol-Kor would have become like most races in the galaxy, procreating conventionally and living in family units. They would no longer be the threat they are today.”

“You mean the threat they were. Your race is getting its ass kicked back in your universe. From what I understand, none of your female offspring survived, so the Sol-Kor are slowly dying off, with a lot of help from the pissed off races your people had for lunch. Your universe—all universes—are better off without the Sol-Kor.”

“I can understand your anger, yet I do not understand your insistence not to move beyond your hatred. I served a purpose at the time. Unfortunately, I was not allowed to complete Panur’s vision for the Sol-Kor, in great part due to the actions of Adam Cain and his Human followers.”

Sherri bristled. “We’re not his followers. He’s not some messianic figure descended from the gods—not like they tried to make you out to be.”

“There are some within your galaxy who would disagree with you regarding Adam Cain.”

“That’s their problem. Adam’s just a Human, just like every other Human.” Then Sherri smiled. “Which should make a lot of aliens nervous, knowing there’s an entire planet of us out there.”

“You haven’t learned, have you?”

Sherri bristled even more. “Learned what…?” She left off the you bitch from the end of the sentence, knowing it’s not wise to poke the super-powerful, immortal, mutant bear in the room—at least not too much.

“I refer to the lesson you should have learned from the Sol-Kor. Planets are susceptible to annihilation. Yet a race spread among many worlds has a better chance of survival. Your Earth can be destroyed, along with all the Adam Cain’s and Sherri Valentine’s upon its surface, and it wouldn’t take a race of super-beings to do so.”

“Kind of like what happened to your world when the Hal’ic attacked?”

“That was not my world; I do not have a world. I was created in the laboratories of Kor, yet that was all. I have no homeworld, and no race. Like my creator—and Lila Bol—we are unique.”

“How does that make you feel?” Sherri asked, genuinely interested in the answer. “I couldn’t imagine being so alone.”

J’nae took a heartbeat to formulate her answer, which was a lifetime for an intellect like hers. Sherri noticed the hesitation, believing she’d touched a nerve.

“I know of no other existence, and that is how it will be for all eternity.”

“You’re smart enough to imagine what it feels like to be part of a family, of a community, of a race of like beings all in pursuit of life’s little pleasures. You can, can’t you?”

“Of course I can…imagine. Panur has the emotions you speak off, since he is the product of a mortal birth and then mutated to his present state. Even Lila has retained that part of her Human and Formilian birth, thanks to her assimilation into her planet’s culture and people. She, even more than Panur, has conventional feelings and emotions. Yet I was created a mutant—as you refer to it. I have no such lingering experiences to call upon. I understand them and can place myself in a state of mind where I react as I should. Yet this is more of an exercise rather than true feelings. Panur has attempted recently to instill these in me, yet the progress is slow. And even if he succeeds, I will know they are artificial, even as my very existence is artificial. Yet perhaps….”

“Perhaps what?” Sherri felt awful, overwhelmed by the incredible sadness she detected in the mutant. J’nae said she was devoid of natural emotions, that she had to imagine how to feel. In Sherri’s opinion, she was doing one hell of good job of imagining.

“When we find the Aris.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Perhaps through them both Panur and I can learn.”

“You’re looking forward to finding them?” Sherri couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “The Aris were able to take Lila—someone like you—and without batting an eye. Doesn’t that frighten you, the idea of what they’re capable of doing?”

Again there was a slight hesitation before her reply. “It’s not fear I feel. It’s…excitement.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“To you it doesn’t, yet you must realize I do not fear…anything. Even though I can be overcome by extreme cold, I cannot die. I will outlast any of the prisons I may be placed within. A million years or more could pass and I would still survive. Yet the Aris are beings over three billions years old. Even I cannot imagine what they have become. Of course they were able to take Lila, as they can take me and Panur. That is what is so exciting; the prospect of encountering creatures even more powerful than us.”

“Look, I’m in this to get Adam back. If we also free Lila, that’s a bonus—at least to me. Yet it sounds like you and Panur have come here to hunt the Aris? Do you have some kind of a death wish?”

Sherri recoiled from the cold, steady reply. “Now you understand. To those who cannot die, death is the ultimate challenge.”

* * *

Over the next two days, six more death matches were held in the small arena, all won by the Nuoreans. Only one of the Milky Way races even came close. He managed to nick one of the invaders, drawing blood. If he were a Nuorean, he would have won the match. But because this was an immunity challenge, the contest continued until he was sliced and diced into small pieces, much to the delight of the waiting crowd of carcass scavengers. It saved them the trouble.

Adam was getting a better feel for how the Nuoreans fought. They were into ceremony and showmanship, choosing long, flowing swipes with their swords to short stabbing thrusts. Also, they fought better when moving to the side; however, they did have a fancy backflip move, but that left them vulnerable for a second as they landed and regained focus on the enemy. Their vision was always to the front, expecting the enemy to come rushing forward. This gave a swift opponent the chance to move laterally and approach from the side.

They were also literal fighters, which meant they believed every grunt and groan coming from their opposition. An injury was believed to be an injury. They couldn’t imagine anyone faking a disability to gain an advantage. How would that even be possible, was their thinking.

Adam had to temper his thinking, remembering this current crop of Nuorean fighters was the junior varsity team, if that. The varsity players would be wiser and less gullible.

* * *

Adam was just finishing a meal of roasted Kacin when a commotion spread throughout the compound. He was sitting on the raised platform of the shelter, leaning against the center post supporting the thatched roof. Using the wood planks left a few days earlier, the Humans had built a four-foot high wall around most of the shelter, with the rest of the way to the awning covered in drying palm fronds. No one had challenged them over the past day and half. Part of the reason could have been that almost a third of the aliens were dead, having been killed off by the other two-thirds. Adam and his men hadn’t participated in the aforementioned slaughter for the sake of any grading system. They did their part simply for food.

But even that was changing. More food was being brought in, along with more building supplies and additional water tanks. The remaining species had staked claim to small plots of land and built their own makeshift shelters, after which a precarious status quo developed. Except for the occasional battle for combat superiority, a pragmatic peace existed in the prison.

That afternoon fifty or more Nuoreans moved into the compound through the main gate, massed around a central figure. As they drew closer, Adam recognized Daric as the dignitary, apparently making an impromptu inspection.

The alien made his rounds to various mini-colonies of species, smiling and offering compliments for their ragged and ugly shelters, often not much more than a few pieces of wood leaned together like a tepee. None of the prisoners knew Daric by sight—only Adam. All they had heard was his voice as he pronounced the day’s challenges.

Adam remained seated as the huge entourage approached the Humans’ small settlement. Billy and Manny stood in the shade at the back of the shelter, while Pierre sat on the outer edge of the platform, looking bored. None of the Humans reacted to the swarm of aliens around their encampment.

The golden eyes of the Gamer-Master met Adam’s. He didn’t seem surprised to find the Humans in one of the best camps in the compound, or their relative good health. They had been under surveillance since the moment they arrived.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable, Adam Cain. Your stay with us doesn’t appear to be a burden.”

“Yeah, we’re settling in quite well, thanks for noticing.”

“I also see you have survived the first level of my little game, as I expected.”

Adam smiled. “Pretty transparent, buddy, although some around here chose to play.”

“Have you been studying the challenges? I would expect a warrior such as you to be quite interested in our playing techniques. I would if I were in your place.”

Adam laughed. “You guys are pretty archaic, I mean using swords and shit. On Earth we like to go at each other with just fists and nothing else.”

“You call it boxing; yes I know. I have been studying your planet for the past several days. I understand better now why you have been so effective at the game of war. You are more barbaric than most of your contemporaries in this galaxy. You also have the unique ability to move rapidly within your own heavy gravity, making you especially agile on worlds with standard gravity. Most other species from similar worlds as yours are more sluggish and less coordinated. Even in my own galaxy we had our share of creatures like you. We defeated them, as we did all others. You will be no different.”

“So you say.”

Daric went to turn away but then changed his mind. “I have an idea, one you and your fellow Humans may find amusing.”

“What’s that?” Adam asked. He let loose with a fake yawn to emphasize his complete lack of interest in what the alien leader had to say.

“Seeing that I have a gathering of Humans here—and you already have been assigned tentative challenge points—why don’t I arrange a match for one of your companions?”

The alien had Adam’s attention, along with that of the other three Humans.

“I thought you were saving us for last?” Adam fought to maintain his detached air, not wanting Daric to know how concerned he was.

“I’m saving you, Adam Cain. Your friends are fair game at this time.”

“Don’t waste good fighting stock on the undercard, Daric.”

“I do not fully understand your comment, yet I question part of it. If you are such good players, then your Humans should exit victorious. You should have nothing to fear from a practice challenge.”

“Practice, you mean other than to the death?”

“Oh, no, Adam Cain, it will be to the death, just that it will be practice for your designated challenger. There’s always a first. Let us schedule it for tomorrow.”

“Wait…we get to choose the person?”

“Of course, so long as it is not you. I must admit, I’m saving you for myself.”

Adam stepped toward the alien, only to be blocked by several serious-looking guards. “Then let’s get it over with, you sonofabitch!”

“Patience, my worthy opponent, our time will come. Preparations are still underway. It must be a grand show, an inaugural challenge in our glorious new Grand Arena currently under construction. Now…ready your second for the challenge tomorrow. I will allow an anxious higher-level Nuorean an opportunity to earn accelerated immunity points with the challenge. Let us see if you are an anomaly, Adam Cain, or if all Humans are the caliber of player I suspect you to be. And you can be assured your player will find a worthy opponent in the Nuorean I have in mind. I would not want to make it too easy for him.”

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 attention 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.

Anger flared again and Billy charged. The alien managed to step to his side before losing his balance and tumbling to the ground. Billy’s feet became tangled in Linoc’s and he fell forward as well.

Linoc was on his feet first, backing away with blood gushing from his nose and mouth. When Billy stood, he stumbled, grimaced and grabbed his right leg. He attempted to move forward, but stumbled again, going down on one knee. He met Linoc’s eyes with fear and concern.

The alien stepped back and smiled. Although he was bloody and coated in dust and sweat, none of his injuries were debilitating. He wiped his blade on his pants, making it shine once more in the sunlight of the unknown world, in no hurry now to finish off his hobbled opponent.

Billy continued to drag his useless leg behind him until he reached the edge of the arena. Linoc came forward, slowly, never losing his grin. When the pair were about ten feet apart the alien stopped.

“With the immunity points I will acquire with your death, I will move up to First-Player status. You have redeemed my prospects. I thank you for your noble sacrifice.”

The alien crouched down and assumed an offensive stance, sword out in front, his left arm held high and to the rear for balance. He stutter-stepped forward, closing the ten-foot gap in a heartbeat, lunging with his sword.

But Billy wasn’t there. Having braced his feet against the barrier, he jumped to his left, landing on his right shoulder and rolling up to his feet. He rushed forward, no sign of injury, jabbing the tip of his sword deep into the alien’s unprotected side.

Linoc staggered off as far as he could before Billy slashed again with the blade. This time a fresh seam opened across the alien’s chest. The cloth of his sleeveless combat shirt changed colors, from a light cream color to blood red, spreading before the eyes of the cheering crowd of alien prisoners.

Linoc staggered back, waving his sword with weak movements to and fro.

Billy stood to his full height of six-foot-two and threw out his chest. Next he gripped his sword with both hands and shoved it forward, coming in low at the alien. Linoc tried a feeble attempt to block the incoming blade of Nuorean metal, but he was weak and dizzy from loss of blood. He was too late. The tip of Billy’s sword entered the abdomen and exited out the back. And then with Human strength, Billy Kring lifted the limp body, holding it high above his head, even as alien blood rained down on his face.

He let the blade—and the dead alien impaled on it—fall to the ground, then he placed a metal-tipped boot on the body and pulled the blade from the corpse. He glared at Daric, who sat in the shade of the viewing platform, a blank expression on his face. Billy tossed the bloody blade into the dirt and walked back to the staging area, defiant, victorious…and without the slightest hint of a limp.

With the contest completed, the crowd surrounding the arena fell into a stunned silence, unsure what the Nuoreans would do after the death of one of their own. When no immediate response came, a few cheers began to rise up, soon joined by hundreds. The sound was deafening, and made up of cackles, whistles, hoots and hollers as each species expressed their excitement in their own particular voice.

Eventually Daric tried to talk. It took a minute or so for the crowd to quiet down, enough so he could be heard.

“As it is with first-level immunity challenges, the outcome is never guaranteed. The challenge is awarded to the Human Billy Kring. We honor the sacrifice Linoc (611) Kallen-Noc has made to further our traditions. Through this challenge, a more-detailed assessment of the Human race can be made, helping to finalize the immunity points assigned to the species. To the Nuoreans viewing, let it be known that only the most-qualified shall be allowed to challenge the Humans. This restriction shall also apply to the Juirean race. We came to the Kac to renew our supply of worthy immunity challenge opponents. From the contests we have witnessed today, we have succeeded in that goal. Prepare yourselves accordingly. Our adventure in the Kac is just beginning. The future is bright for our people and for the opportunity of more glorious immunity challenges to come. Resume your normal duties.”

A squad of Nuoreans entered the staging area and escorted Adam and the Juirean Overlord to the viewing platform. Daric awaited them, his golden eyes narrow, expression unreadable.

“That was indeed an entertaining—and quite unexpected—demonstration I just witnessed.” He stepped down to Adam’s level and glared into his eyes. “You think you have achieved something beneficial here today…both of you. You are wrong. All you have done is increased the waiting list of Nuoreans wishing to challenge your races. We do not run from a challenge. In fact, the greater the danger, the more we wish to participate. I will have to be judicial in my granting of challenges, lest both your races will be consumed in a relatively short time. That would be a shame. I wish to preserve your species for many hundreds of years of excellent matches. Unfortunately, I will not always have a say in the assignments. There is such a hunger among my people for advancement challenges shielded by immunity points that I’m afraid any effort to slow the pace of contests coming your way will not prevail. Regrettably, this means your respective species will be the first to go extinct within your Milky Way galaxy.”

Adam and the Juirean were excused and set free to return to their camps. A few moments later, the eight-foot-tall Overlord leaned over toward Adam and spoke.

“I am Safnos fe Candoc, and I see now this figurative picture you referred to earlier. You are correct. We are not enemies, at least not any longer. The Nuoreans are the real threat. We must work together towards their eventual defeat. And the first task at hand will be to escape from this prison.”

Adam placed a hand on the back of the alien. “That’s music to my ears, buddy.”

“I hear no music,” said the Overlord. “Perhaps it is the wind.”

“Yeah, that must be it.”

Chapter 11

“They came out of the Radis Spur and then retreated back into it,” Admiral Alan Olsen pointed out to the rest of the assembled officers, politicians and think-tankers on the group comm link. “We also know they came from Andromeda, but not using their conventional drive. Therefore, they must have a way of jumping between galaxies, and I bet it’s located somewhere in the Spur.”

“And your proposal is we close off the region, preventing the invaders from accessing the rest of the galaxy?” asked the Juirean Overlord Nadar fe Xanis. “They have already filtered throughout our space, absconding with thousands of individuals represented hundreds of species.”

“Yet now they’re all back in Radis. This is our best chance to lock them down.”

“I concur,” said the Formilian representative linked to the remote conference. His name was Rasx and he was commander of the native fleet—all three hundred eight ships. “If they are indeed a single race, and without any radical technological advantage to use against us, surely the combined forces of the galaxy can repel them.”

“One would think so,” said Olsen. “They caught us flat-footed with that last encounter, but not again. We have a lot of resources available to us, if we combine our forces.”

“And I ask again, who shall lead this combined force?” asked the Juirean.

This again? The chain of command seemed to be the only thing on the alien’s mind. “It’s obvious both our races—the Humans and Juireans—have the most military assets in the galaxy,” the Admiral began. “And since command is of prime concern to most of us here, I propose joint leadership.”

“How would that be organized?”

“Earth and Juir would each appoint a senior military commander and the two of them would have equal authority.”

“The Juirean fleet outnumbers the Humans three-to-one. Why would we agree to equal command authority with the Humans?”

Olsen wanted to say: Because a year ago a small band of Humans kicked your ass in spite of your superior numbers. Instead, he replied: “Because it’s good for the galaxy. Besides, the individual fleets would still be under local command. Only the major strategies would be worked out between the top brass.”

Olsen didn’t know if ‘top brass’ would translate properly, but he didn’t care. The Juireans were becoming the largest stumbling block to forming a unified response to the Nuoreans. Adam Cain really bloodied their nose a year ago, and they were still fighting to regain respect within the galaxy. Yet without them, there could be no effective counter to the invaders.

“Juirean forces would be under Juirean command?” the Overlord asked.

“Of course…after the overall battle plan has been formulated.”

“That is how it must be,” Nadar declared. “Juireans will not take orders from Humans.”

“And vice versa.”

“Then it is agreed.”

“And what of the rest of us?” asked the Formilian.

“Representatives from all the contributing fleets will form an advisory council for the commanders. Your assets, capabilities and concerns will be weighed and integrated into any battle strategy. The war with the Nuoreans is everyone’s war. Granted, the bulk will be carried out by the major military powers, yet I know everyone in the galaxy wants to do their part. The opportunity will be provided. Your sacrifice will be needed before this is over.”

“This is a complicated command structure, involving many layers of partisan authority,” said the Rigorian representative. “Yet action must be taken immediately to prevent further infestation by the invaders.”

If any race looked deadly and imposing, it was the lizard-like Rigorians, with their alligator-like heads and unblinking yellow eyes. Yet their military was run more like an affiliation of criminal gangs, with hundreds of independent factions maneuvering for control. They were good fighters, but trying to get them all on the same page could be a challenge. Members of their race had been taken by the Nuoreans as well and they wanted to fight—hell, they always wanted to fight—but what form their contribution would take was the question.

“Very astute observation, Klackon Draysis.” Klackon was the Rigorian word for commander. “To cut off the entire spur from the galaxy will require at least five thousand ships, maybe more. The only force in the region large enough is that of the Juireans. A Human fleet is on the way, yet still several months away.”

“So if the Nuoreans attack, it will be mainly Juirean lives that are lost,” stated the Overlord. “And for this we are offered only equal command?”

“Your solitary stand at the barrier is only temporary,” replied Olsen. “But if we don’t act soon, the Nuorean threat could spread throughout the galaxy and be much harder to weed out at that point.”

Nadar considered the proposal for a moment before responding. “We shall agree, with the condition that Juirean Military Command shall have veto power over any strategy developed by the joint operational commanders.”

“Pardon me, Overlord Nadar,” said the Formilian Rasx, “but that would add another layer of bureaucracy to the chain of command. It would also place the Juireans essentially in overall command of the war effort.”

“We risk most; we should have the most input.”

The meeting had gone on like this for two hours, talking in circles over the same roadblock issue. Admiral Olsen was growing weary and frustrated. All this squabbling was costing the allied forces precious time. He let out a soft laugh at the word allied. Nothing at this point was allied against the common enemy. And then there was the larger issue….

“Let me run your proposal by my people, Overlord Nadar. In the meantime, has any progress been made in locating the entry point for the Nuoreans? As we know, they didn’t make the two-point-five million light-year journey from Andromeda to here on conventional gravity drive. They must have a device that allows them to jump between galaxies. This has to be a major facility, located somewhere out along the Radis Spur. Until we shut that down, the Nuoreans will continue to send more units through. It’s just like the Sol-Kor and their trans-dimensional portals, except there’s probably only one such device in use by the invaders.”

“Why do you assume that?” asked Eckcon, the Silean.

“Because so far the main concentration of Nuoreans has been in the Spur…and we haven’t detected the contributions of any mutant genius helping them with some break-through technology. If they were popping up all over the place, then we’d have a bigger problem.”

“This then should be our priority,” stated the Overlord, “even more so than closing off the Spur. If we can shut off their supply of reinforcements, then the rest will die a slow and natural death, as we strike at their remaining force.”

Olsen nodded. “I agree, Overlord Nadar. Yet it should be one of our priorities, but not the only one. We have no idea where this device is located and what it would take to destroy it. Such a mission would also involve transiting the Spur to find it. I’m interested in saving lives now by isolating the cancer to a small region of the galaxy. After that we can launch expeditions to search for the entry point.”

“It appears as if the Humans have already taken control,” Nadar stated coldly. “We have offered plans and the admiral then renders a decision. That is not what the Juireans will accept.”

We’re back to this…again! “I am not trying to impose control,” Olsen argued. “I’m merely pointing out considerations.”

“Then please let me make a proposal,” said Rasx. The Formilians were taking a more active role in the affairs of the galaxy ever since Lila Bol assumed control of the Expansion. This wasn’t sitting well with certain parties. Although the mutant was technically half-Formilian, most of the galaxy hadn’t yet accepted her race as the default leaders of the galaxy. Lila was a one-of-a-kind being and feared by all; her people, not so much. Still, this hadn’t stopped the Formilians from becoming more vocal.

“I propose we do both. It would not be advantageous at this point to blindly invade the Radis Spur in search of something we have no idea what it looks like, or even if it is there. I suggest we blockade the Spur, using Juirean forces at first, then supplemented by others as these units become available. In conjunction, an exploratory mission is launched to find the Nuorean access point to our galaxy. It should be a small operation—possibly even a single ship—allowing it to move about the Spur without attracting the attention of the invaders. Then once we have more intelligence, we can better plan a mission to destroy…whatever the Nuoreans are using to reach us. As you see, we have no idea what this something is in order to even give it a name.”

Olsen liked the idea, but still looked to the screen with the Juirean for his reaction. After a moment, Nadar’s huge head nodded, sending waves through his magnificent mane of blue hair. “I will recommend the action to blockade the Radis Spur. Yet I assign the task of sending the exploratory mission to the Humans. They appear to prefer operations involving subterfuge and sabotage to prideful confrontations between major forces.”

* * *

Even with the overall strategy decided, it took another two hours banging out the details before the links were broken. Alan was exhausted. He’d never fought so hard in his life to get his point across. Yet now—hopefully—the danger will be isolated to the Radis Spur. He wasn’t even sure if they could contain the threat, but it was a start. The Nuoreans were so new on the scene that they could have a whole plethora of secret weapons they haven’t revealed to date.

It was for that reason that Admiral Alan Olsen was a step ahead of the others on the links. A reconnaissance mission into Nuorean territory was already in the works, designed to assess enemy strength, capabilities and intentions. Discovering how the aliens were getting into the galaxy would also be a major part of the operation.

As the highest ranking Human military commander in the Perseus Slice—the half of the galaxy on the opposite side from Earth—Alan Olsen had access to all the resources of Union Military Intelligence. This provided him with information classified far above Top Secret, or even Special Access. A few days ago he began researching current assets already operating in the Radis Spur. There was only one.

The Spur was a backwater region of the galaxy, with its only claim to fame being that it was where the Juireans set up shop after their debacle against the Humans and the Kracori almost twenty years ago. They remained there for seven years before returning to Juir, and even a few years after that as they shut down their operations.

In the vacuum created by their departure, a burgeoning criminal element took over, gaining strength over the past ten years. Recently, drugs and weapons traced back to the Spur were showing up in the Union, prompting a tentative foray into the area to gain more information as a prelude to a much larger deterrent operation.

As Olsen scanned the data on his screen, he discovered the undercover asset was already well-established in Spur. This would give the allies a leg up. It was just a single person who had been in the area for a little over two years, apparently having requested the duty—for whatever reason, the Admiral couldn’t imagine.

Olsen smirked as he read the file. The allies had agreed to a small operation, and one man was about as small as they came. Yes, he would do nicely. The Admiral opened a link with Earth to request the formal transfer of the asset to his command. While waiting for the connection, Olsen checked the name again, just to make he’d read it correctly. It was a strange one.

Copernicus Smith.

Chapter 12

The Nuorean fleet had continued on course for seven days before spreading out and occupying the space around a small uncharted stellar cluster. The aliens couldn’t have picked a more isolated section of the galaxy to make their foray into the Milky Way. It masked their operations and provided the allies with very few landmarks for reference.

Riyad had been closing on the huge fleet for seven days—longer than had been anticipated. But now that the enemy ships had settled down it was his turn. He backed off on the gravity-well and steered the MD-8c on a course to skirt the cluster. He wanted to be noticed, but not labeled a threat. He was fishing, and the MD-8c was the bait.

“Looks like we got a bite,” Sherri called out from the nav board. “A squad of five—no six—ships headed on an intercept course from the cluster.”

Riyad cranked the well a little deeper and steered away from the approaching craft. “Don’t want it make it look too easy, not like we’re trying to get caught,” he said before the question was asked.

“Just don’t get us blown up,” Sherri offered.

Riyad caused a flare-out of the well, which was a brief dumping out into regular space. Flares occurred occasionally, especially when accelerating and decelerating in short intervals. By the time he reestablished the well, the Nuorean ships were upon them.

The aliens didn’t try to establish a comm link with them. Instead, they simply launched one of their energy balls at the ship. Screens were raised. When the concentrated ball of electricity hit the diffusion shield and was absorbed, it was too much for the internal circuits to handle. The technology wasn’t revolutionary, just effective. With time, allied ships would install stronger breakers to protect their systems.

But for now, the MD-8c was dead in the water, with the aliens hovering around without making a move to board. That came several hours later, after the occupants had begun to climb the walls out of boredom. Sure, the internal atmosphere was reaching the critical level, but they knew the alien’s game plan. They would be boarded in time to save their lives—or at least the lives of those aboard who could die.

The aliens weren’t cruel or even rough with the crew. In fact, they were workmanlike in their routine. The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary was when they scanned the races aboard and found that there were four Humans aboard…along with one Formilian. Panur and J’nae had morphed into their Human personas by then, and the scanners only matched body features to the Nuorean’s growing database of Milky Way species. The aliens seemed pretty excited about this and one even made an impromptu call as the prisoners were shuttled over to a larger ship.

The MD-8c was magnetically tethered to another ship for towing, while the ship carrying the prisoners shot off with extra urgency, leaving the others behind.

The prisoners, consisting of Riyad, Sherri, Panur, J’nae and Trimen were placed in a back compartment that was filthy and smelled like animal excrement. There was even a thin coating of straw on the deck to help absorb some of the left over dung.

“Is this how they transport advanced species?” Riyad asked, wrinkling his nose. He looked at Sherri. “I suppose you feel right at home.”

“I love the smell of horse urine in the morning…it’s the smell of victory,” said the former veterinary student. “But doesn’t this remind you of the chicken coops and sheep stalls where you grew up?”

Riyad was Lebanese by birth—but a city boy from Beirut.

“Brings a homesick tear to my eye,” he said, carrying the joke way beyond its lifespan. “I wonder where we are?”

“We have just entered a star system with twelve planets. The fourth one from the star is our destination. They call it Ankaa.”

Riyad and Sherri looked at the thin-faced Human Panur had transformed into as if he’d just grown a second head. “How the hell do you know that?” Sherri asked.

“I have accessed their navigation system.” He smiled. “Have you forgotten that I have powers?”

“On the contrary,” Sherri began. “It’s those powers I’m counting on to save Adam.”

Panur looked at the figure sitting next to him; also a Human male, this one with dark hair, a trace of stubble and brilliant blue eyes. J’nae had assumed the form of a male, knowing from the interrogation of Nuorean prisoners that only males were being kidnapped.

“How are you doing?” Panur asked. His ability to morph into specific forms was more practiced and required less energy. For J’nae to maintain the cell transformation required was more draining. To Riyad, it only went to show that not all mutants were created alike.

“I detect no security cameras nearby. I believe I will reform back, only for a moment. It is all I require to realign.”

The six-foot-two-inch man melded into a seven-foot-tall alien female over the course of eight seconds. A look of relief came over the mutant’s face.

“Panur, may I ask how you can access the alien electronic technology when my Gift—my brain interface—cannot?” Trimen asked.

“Please call me George, George Washington,” the young man said. “If I am to look like a Human, I prefer to be called by the name of a great one, according to Human history. Now to answer your question: I am not really accessing it. Instead I mentally scan power sources until I can decipher the electronic signatures of the data they represent. I’m like a processor of data, not a reader.”

The answer was detailed, but still left the non-mutants in the room completely baffled, including Trimen.

“That seems much more complicated than simply pulling data from a memory drive.”

“Not more complicated, just more difficult. Once I’ve had more time with Nuorean technology, I will be able to fully access their systems. Right now, I lack the motivation.”

The ship lurched to one side then began to slow. Gravity drive switched to chemical and the internals were cut when planetary gravity became present. Three minutes later the ship was on the surface of Ankaa.

J’nae transformed back into her Human shape.

“Do you have a name you want to be called too?” Sherri asked.

“I have not considered it. I am not as familiar with Human history as is my creator.”

“I suppose Adolph Hitler would be appropriate.”

“However, I am familiar enough with your history to know that name. I would not prefer to be called Adolph Hitler.”

“Then Damien, Damien Jones.”

“An obvious reference to your devil deity. I will accept that, for the time I have this form.”

The prisoners were taken from the holding room and moved through the center of the ship to an outer hatch. They stepped into fading natural light and a hot breeze. Hundreds of artificial lights were snapping on, triggered by sensors. A very generous helping of Nuoreans walked a fair distance away from the landing zone, at a cluster of buildings that looked to be huge tents, all of the same design.

The one structure that stood out the most was still under construction, but nearing completion. It was made of huge stone blocks, mixed with sheets of metal, some fifty-feet across. The building was rectangular, measuring five hundred feet across along its face. From where the prisoners stood, they couldn’t tell how deep it was.

A six-wheel electric vehicle pulled up, with a partitioned section at the rear. Guards opened doors and the prisoners climbed in without protest. The sides of the back section were made of glass, allowing them to take in the lay of the land.

The Nuorean settlement was large, and growing larger. Vast swatches of land were already cleared, and the footings for more buildings like the nearly-completed structure were already in place. There could be a dozen such buildings when this part of the project was complete.

The transport stopped in front of a tent like all the others. A Nuorean stepped through the open doorway, followed by three others. The prisoners were hustled from the back of the truck.

“I am Daric (611) Kallen-Nac, the leader of this expedition.” The alien stepped up to Sherri and Riyad, his golden eyes wide, a thin grin on his lips. “Our facial recognition database is very limited at this time, yet we do have the images of many of the more prominent entities in your galaxy. So you must appreciate the surprise I felt when I learned we had Sherri Valentine and Riyad Tarazi in our custody. Did I pronounce your names correctly?”

“Yeah, you did fine,” said Riyad with suspicion. “You know who we are?”

“Of course. I also know of your affiliation with Adam Cain. You are undoubtedly here to rescue him.”

“He’s here?” Sherri asked.

“You did not know this? I find that hard to believe. Why else would have so recklessly entered this section of your galaxy without escort or more force.” He eyed Trimen and the Human incarnations of Panur and J’nae.

“We took a chance,” Riyad added. “So…he is here?”

“Yes, he is. Your gamble paid off. Yet I highly doubt the five of you will be able to rescue him.”

“Is he all right?” Sherri inquired, her concern obvious.

Daric studied her for several seconds. “We have not yet secured females for our challenges. They must be used to produce more players for the games.” He smiled and stepped back, taking in all the males. “Yet now I have three more Human males. This is exciting. Your species has proven to be the most-challenging in the Kac. There is already high demand for contests, more than can be supplied with the inventory I currently have. The conquest of your world is still far in the future. However, the Nuor are here to stay; there will be time. Yet now I have more players. I must tell you, as the Game-Master, I share in the immunity points of all contests. Having more Humans is quite welcome.”

“That’s all riveting, douchbag, but can we get on with it? Where’s Adam.”

Daric frowned at Sherri’s possibly-indecipherable language. “You are indeed a companion of Adam Cain. You both share…an attitude, you would call it.”

“We’ve been accused of that before.”

“Then I will personally escort you to Adam Cain. He will be delighted to see you…or perhaps not.” He turned to the Trimen. “You are a Formilian,” he stated with confidence. “I do not find your presence here surprising. We have four others of your kind in the compound. During your time here, I wish to learn more of the one you call Lila Bol. She, too, shows up prominently in the recent archives of your galaxy, although I tend to believe most of the stories of her are tales of exaggeration, even myth. Her present location appears to be a mystery, even to you. I will require further investigation to decide the fate of this creature.”

Another vehicle pulled up, this one a large, open-air transport without the security cage on the back. Daric sat next to the driver, as the five prisoners were placed in the two rows of backseats. It was almost full night by now, except for the presence of artificial lights and two bright moons in the sky. The car moved off.

Daric turned to his prisoners. “I hope you don’t plan on causing any trouble. I am constantly under surveillance and my guards are only seconds away. Besides, I am a First-Level Player. Even for Humans you may find me challenging. And as I speak of challenges, behold our nearly-complete Grand Arena.”

They were passing along the base of the huge building they saw from the spaceport.

“There are twenty challenge arenas inside, including the Grand Field. It should interest you that Adam Cain and I will meet there in two days, for the inaugural Level-One Immunity Challenge in the stadium. In time, there will be fourteen such Grand Arenas in this settlement alone. More settlements will come, until there are facilities across your galaxy for a million or more challenges every day, and not only with Humans, but all advanced species.”

The alien was bursting with excitement as he related the plans the Nuoreans had for the Milky Way. As they neared a walled compound, a gate was opened and they drove through without slowing down.

Daric was still going on. “This is a glorious time for the Nuoreans. We have planned five hundred cycles for this moment, and devoted considerable time and points to the endeavor. We are still many cycles from a time of stability for your galaxy, when all the routines are established and all are playing by the rules. But that time will come. We did the same in a galaxy twice the size of this one. We can do it here.”

The car pulled up to an area defined by a round wooden platform sitting two feet off the ground and dominated by a thatched roof canopy over the twenty-foot-in-diameter shelter. Most of the sides were covered with a series of braced-in wooden planks and more thatching draped from the canopy. A pit outside the shelter contained a small, yet steady fire.

Two men sat on the edge of the platform. They were dirty, with grisly beards and torn and bloody clothing. At first they paid no attention to the car, not until they noticed the passengers.

Their expressions were not those of joy, but of sadness. They stood up, as one called into the shelter. “Hey, more contestants.”

Two other men came out of the opening to the shelter. One was Adam Cain.

Sherri screamed and jumped from the car. She ran into his arms, ignoring the pungent odor and coarse beard.

Adam returned the hug, but not with enthusiasm.

He pushed her away and looked in her eyes in the dim light. “Tell me you didn’t come here to rescue me, and that you showing up here is just a coincidence?”

Sherri was taken aback by Adam’s cold reception. “We came looking for you. Unfortunately, we were caught.”

Adam looked at the rest of the group as they exited the car and walked up to him. Adam gave a cursory shake of his hand to Riyad, eyed the two unknown men and then shook hands with Trimen.

“I really wish you hadn’t done this. It was foolish, and now I feel like shit because you did this for me. FYI…there’s no getting out of here. These bastards are always one step ahead of us. They’re better at playing these games than we are.” He looked at the smiling face of Daric, still sitting in the car. “Did he tell you what’s going to happen day after tomorrow?”

“You and him are going fight…I assume,” Riyad said. Adam’s sour mood was contagious, and Riyad had caught it.

“That’s right…and to the death.”

“You can take him!” Sherri exclaimed. Her eyes were filled with tears.

“Even if I do, they’ll just schedule another fight, and then another. The system’s rigged, and now you’re all part of it too.”

“Forgive me Adam Cain,” Daric interrupted, “but I will be leaving now so your reunion can continue. The Formilian can stay here. He can find his own way to what’s left of his species’ encampment.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Adam grunted. Everyone watched the car leave, before retreating into the shelter. They placed a door made of fronds and sticks across the opening. Two benches for seating had been fashioned from wood planks resting on rocks gathered from the compound, while strategically placed sticks separated the thatch roof to let in moon light, casting everyone in a pale, ghostly sheen.

“What the hell, Adam?” Sherri whispered. “Did they break your spirit in here, or is this just some kind of act you’re putting on.”

“It’s not an act. Two days ago we tried to escape. Eighteen of us met up at the far end of the compound, under the cover of the jungle. Six of us made it over the wall before Daric sent his goons against us. They were waiting there and killed everyone except the Humans and Juireans, even those that hadn’t climbed the wall. It seems we were spared because of our precious immunity points.” He looked at Trimen. “They killed four of the six Formilians in the camp. We were under surveillance all along, expecting us to try something like that. These bastards can anticipate our moves, even before we think of them. It’s what they do. Everything is strategically and tactically planned.”

The shelter was silent for several seconds as the newcomers digested the depressing news. Sherri glared at Adam in the dim light. “You say they can predict everything? Well prepare yourself.. This is something these rat-bastards couldn’t have predicted.” She stood up straight and looked at the two Humans Adam had never seen before. “I’d like to introduce you to George Washington and Damien Jones.”

Adam’s face was cast in shadow from the light filtering in through the roof, so Sherri couldn’t see his expression when the two Humans morphed into their true selves. A moment later his eyes lit up, the whites reflecting the moonlit.

Adam’s three ragged companions gasped, overcome by the impossible scene they’d just witnessed. Morphing aliens may be commonplace for Adam Cain, but not these three.

“What the….” Billy Kring’s voice tailed off. Even in the dim light, he could make out a gray-skinned creature just under five-feet tall, sitting next to a seven-foot-tall alien female with pale yellow skin and blond hair.

“I…I’m in shock,” Pierre stammered. “I have heard of some weird things in the galaxy but I’ve never seen anything I couldn’t explain. Until now.”

“It’s not impossible,” Adam growled. His glowing eyes were focused on the taller creature. “Why the hell did you bring her here?”

“Who is she?” Manny Brown asked.

“She’s the insane mutant creation of an equally insane mutant. Manny, meet J’nae, the Queen of the Sol-Kor.”

The three men jumped to their feet, stumbling over the makeshift seats to get as far from J’nae as they could in the small enclosure.

“Former queen,” Panur corrected. “Trust me Adam Cain, she is not as she was before. I have had time to work with her. She is now on our side.”

It was Adam’s turn to rise to his feet, yet he did so slowly, methodically, every muscle in his body taunt and ready to spring. “We don’t have a side, not with that thing.”

Sherri placed a calming hand on Adam’s shoulder. “They’re here to help. Give them a chance.”

“They’re not here to help us. They’re here for Lila.”

“Lila is here?” Trimen spoke for the first time.

“No, but they came looking for her, not me. And they could give a shit about the rest of you. Mutants stick together, don’t they?”

Panur had worn a thin smile on his face until this point. Now his smooth features hardened. “Apparently not all mutants, Adam; Lila chose mortals over her own kind.”

“All three of her kind?”

“That matters not. She was among equals when she was with me…and J’nae. But she is…different. She is more of a hybrid than anything else. She has the powers of a mutant yet the sensibilities of a mortal.”

“Well shame on her for actually having compassion and feelings.”

“Please, Adam, we have come to help. You have information on where the Aris took Lila. In exchange for that information, we will help your galaxy against the Nuorean threat.”

“How can you do that?” Pierre asked.

“Well first of all, I can get us out of here and safely back into space.”

“How?” Billy asked.

The smile returned to the mutant’s face. “I have a plan.”

Chapter 13

Two days later a contingent of Nuoreans came into the compound and removed all the Humans. Trimen had remained with them, and so he was taken as well, the aliens having orders to bring all in the shelter to the Grand Arena.

There was an incredible number of Nuoreans on the streets of the growing settlement, consisting of occupants of the tent-city, along with crewmembers of the fleet not on duty and given leave to attend the inaugural matches beginning this day.

The transport entered the huge structure and proceeded into a large underground parking area. To the left were a series of wide corridors, filled with aliens of several species being herded away by Nuorean guards. Adam and his crew were directed to a corridor on the right, apparently the VIP holding cells. And that’s what they found—cells, and a lot of them. They were segregated by thick iron bars with seating along the edges for the warriors awaiting their turn in the Arena.

They passed the holding cell for the Juireans. Overlord Safnos was at the bars, watching them pass. “Good luck…my friend,” he said to Adam. It had to be hard for him to call a Human friend, but he had helped Adam plan their ill-fated escape attempt. Tragedy built bonds, even between mortal enemies.

The Humans were placed in a cell larger than most and very close to the ramp leading to the playing field above. It even had a bank of video monitors on the wall, alive with scenes of the individual playing fields in the complex.

Daric arrived a few minutes later.

He studied Trimen for a moment. “The Formilian is with you? I have no match scheduled for his race this day.” He made an alien shrug. “Perhaps I will pair him with a lesser species. Two against one senior Nuorean would be entertaining, and a bonus to the player.”

He shifted his attention to the Humans—including the two standing at the back named George Washington and Damien Jones.

His golden eyes bore into Adam. “At one time I had considered facing you as a member of a team. Yet after observing you for several days, I have amended that thought. I will meet you in a single challenge. I have seen you fight as you defended your encampment and fought with my guards during your predictable escape attempt.” He looked at Billy. “I have also witnessed Humans in full combat mode, against a lesser opponent, yet still enough to know your capabilities. I am not concerned. You will be a worthy opponent, yet you will not prevail. Even now I see that your spirit is broken, your will for fighting, gone.”

He moved to the open door of the cell and looked out at the filtering light from outside. “I should let you know another two thousand Nuorean warships entered your galaxy yesterday, the beginning of a constant stream of players to counter your pointless moves against us. All ships, old and new, are currently linked to the events soon to take place here, and recordings will be sent back to Nuor for the enjoyment of the masses. There will be eighty challenges today across the twenty fields we’ve created inside the Grand Arena—the first of many to be constructed.” He looked at the other Humans. “This will include contests with all your fellow Humans, except the female. I still have not decided what to do with her. She is too old for reliable procreation—and there will be many others for that chore. Yet I have found in the archives that she is considered an accomplished player in your society, so I may place her against a lower male of my species. I am in constant need of variety to keep the games interesting.”

Sherri stepped forward. “How about you and I go at it right now? I assure you, that would interesting, as I rip your guts out with my teeth.”

The smile stretched wider on Daric’s face. “Perhaps I should. I may sanction such a challenge, just to teach you a short-lived lesson. I will find much satisfaction in shoving a ressnel down your obstinate throat.”

“Bring it on, asshole.”

Adam stepped between the two. “Relax, Sherri. After I’m done with him, we’ll be short one alien asshole for you to fight.”

Daric literally danced away, clapping his hands in a very Human-like show of emotion. “I am thoroughly impressed with Human’s sense of importance and invulnerability. In the past, species such as yours have fallen the hardest, when they realized just how weak and ineffectual they were against the Nuor. And your downward spiral towards enlightenment begins soon. I must leave now. I have to dress for the occasion. Traditionally, the most challenging matches are scheduled last. Yet since this is the inaugural day for the first Grand Arena in the Kac, Adam Cain and I will lead off the festivities.”

He stepped up to Adam, the smile gone from his face. He whispered: “And I assure you this event has been staged as well as all the others. The outcome is not in doubt, only the spectacle we will put on for my Nuorean brothers.”

* * *

Daric and his entourage left, leaving the Humans and Trimen to their silent contemplations.

New clothing was brought for them all consisting of thick pants and armless shirts colored black. The color would provide contrast against the light brown soil of the arena floor, giving spectators—here and on Nuor—a better viewing experience. All the outfits were the same.

Adam turned to George Washington. “Okay, you’re on.”

Within seconds, the nondescript Human male had transformed again, this time into an exact duplicate of Adam Cain. He stepped forward, the mirror images facing each other.

“I will keep them entertained as J’nae helps the rest of you escape to the landing field.” He smiled. “Be sure to wait for me, if you please.”

“Don’t take too long. This is going to cause quite the scene.”

“I will be along.”

Adam—the real Adam—moved to the rear of the cell and sat down, shielded by the others standing in front of him.

Adam/Panur waited at the front of the cell, ready to step out the moment he was summoned. Sherri moved next to him as guards opened the door.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

Panur turned to her and smiled, a moment before taking her in his arms and delivering a passionate kiss on the lips. The thought of Panur kissing her would haunt her for years to come, but for now, all she could do was flutter her eyes and catch her breath. Like everything else, the mutant sure knew how to kiss.

But now he was gone and the door locked once again. The aliens in the corridor outside moved away with their prisoner and into the light from the arena above. Sherri turned to Damien Jones.

“Now it’s your turn.”

* * *

Adam/Panur stumbled out into the vast arena, temporarily blinded by the harsh light of mid-morning on the planet Ankaa. When able, he scanned the scene around him. He was at the base of a huge stadium, where thousands of seats climbed a hundred high in all four directions of the rectangular field. The seats were packed with roaring hordes of aliens, with thousands of others standing in aisles and along wide concourses at the top of the viewing sections. The sound was deafening as the crowd reacted to his entry.

Next he surveyed the playing field. It wasn’t open and empty like the small arena in the holding compound. Instead, there were blocks the size of buses, along with low walls and undulating ground with low hills. All the structures appeared embedded in the ground, which consisted of fine tan-colored dirt devoid of any rocks—which could be used as additional weapons. All he would have would be what the aliens provided him.

And for that, an attendant approached. He handed Adam a ressnel sword and a light-weight circular shield. No vanish net was provided, not for this contest.

Then the attendant left, leaving Adam alone in the sunlight, appearing tiny and inconspicuous before the cheering crowd, in addition to the millions of others watching on video monitors on the planet and in space above.

Now the crowd went absolutely crazy. The sound was unbelievable as Daric entered the arena. He was dressed in a golden outfit, with various plates of armor attached to his limbs and already carrying his sword and shield. It seemed out of place that the Nuorean would be afforded armor, yet Adam wasn’t. That hardly seemed fair.

But Adam didn’t protest. It wouldn’t matter.

Daric stepped next to his opponent. “Is this not wondrous, Adam Cain? Take in the energy of the crowd, feel their excitement and anticipation. Most challenges do not carry such an atmosphere. We have staged this one thusly as a reminder to the Nuor of days long past, when there were real immunity challenges against worthy opponents. The Kac has resurrected such feelings within my species. Bask in the moment, Adam Cain. With your death you will live forever in the history of the Nuor.”

“That’s an oxymoron—just like you, dickhead,” Adam screamed to be heard over the din.

Daric laughed. “I so hope all the Humans from Earth are like you. I may have Humans wired so the crowd may listen in on your amusing quips. Yes, I will do that for future challenges.”

“You better place the order before we begin. You won’t have the opportunity afterwards.”

“Enough!” Daric stepped away and raised his sword. “Let us get this over with; the crowd is ready.”

A voice boomed through speakers and the crowd quieted to a hush almost immediately. “The Games of the Kac are about to begin,” said the announcer. “In this magnificent Grand Arena we begin a new era in the lifecycle of the Nuor, in a new galaxy, with new challenges and new victories.

“As we start this series of level-one immunity challenges, we are witness to a once-in-a-lifetime event. Game-Master Daric (611) Kallen-Noc will meet the alien Adam Cain, the premier player in all the Kac, in an immunity challenge of historic proportions. Never before has a single being rated at the top of an entire galaxy. Yes, each species has their champion, but never a galaxy. So it is appropriate that our leader face his greatest challenge in the first official immunity contest held in the Kac. It will not be easy for Game-Master Daric; he will be meeting the best the Kac can offer. Yet he is a Nuorean!” The crowd went wild. “Now the best of the Kac will face one of our greatest players. Let the players take their places.”

A Nuorean referee now stood between the two players. He held his arms out to his side, pointing at Daric and Adam. He dropped his arms.

“Begin!”

* * *

The prisoners watched the grandiose introduction on the video monitor in the cell. When the referee dropped his arms, they knew every eye would be glued the contest taking place in the center of the building.

J’nae reverted back to her true form, taking a deep breath of relief as she did, before stepping to the door of the cell. To the amazement of Pierre, Manny and Billy, she grasped the bars and pulled, breaking the locking mechanism with ridiculous ease. Without hesitation, the prisoners exited the cell and went left, away from the ramp leading to the playing field.

They rushed past cells with terrified aliens pleading: “Help us…please!”

“We are, in a way,” J’nae replied. But still she ran.

“Adam Cain!”

Adam stopped at the cell where his name had been called. It was the Juirean cell.

“Wait,” he called after the rest. He placed his hands on the bars.

“I see you on the monitor—yet here you stand. I do not understand,” said the Overlord Safnos.

“It would take too long to explain.”

“Take us with you, it will mean much to my people. And at this important juncture in your escape effort, you could use all the help you can get.”

J’nae was at his side, staring down at the much-shorter Human with intense, yellow eyes. “We do not have time for this, Cain.”

“He’s right. The Juireans can fight—”

“It is not our intent to fight, only escape.”

“You said you want to help us against the Nuor. Freeing the Juireans is part of that effort.”

The tall mutant pursed her lips, then she gripped the bars on the door to the cell and pulled. Pieces of the broken lock clattered to the floor. She glared at the Juirean. “Come then, but do not interfere with the plan—more than you already have.”

Four Juireans ran from the cell and took up the rear guard behind the six Humans, Trimen and J’nae. After a few more yards, they discovered not all the Nuoreans were distracted by the battle taking place outside. Three green-uniformed aliens appeared from a side corridor, energy weapons already aimed at the lead escapee.

Adam saw J’nae hesitate for a moment, turning to face the alien squad with a thin smile. A plasma bolt struck her on the chest and spread out, moments before being absorbed into her skin. There was a flash of radiance from her body and an intake of air into her lungs.

“Thank you,” she said to the stunned Nuoreans. “I needed that.”

But then she was among them in the blink of an eye, tearing the hapless aliens apart with her bare hands, spraying blood on the surrounding walls and puddling at J’nae’s feet. Sherri and Riyad were the first to react. They rushed into bloody mess and recovered the weapons from the three dismembered Nuoreans.

“Now look who’s holding us up?” Adam said. “Are you done playing around?”

“Maintaining the transformation takes energy. I needed the boost.”

“Good…now let’s go!”

Adam took the extra flash weapon even as J’nae admonished them against using them. She would neutralize any future hostiles without the need for the attention-grabbing energy weapons.

They entered the underground parking structure moments later and found it unoccupied. J’nae chose a covered vehicle large enough to carry all twelve of the escapees and pulled open the door. It wasn’t locked, and the force she applied separated the panel from the frame, leaving her holding it in awkward silence.

They moved to a second vehicle with the same design. This time J’nae simply opened the door using the latch. “You control the transport,” she said to Adam. “I will maintain surveillance.”

Everyone piled in. Although Adam appreciated the opportunity to drive—it was a guy thing—he had never driven a Nuorean car before. He scanned the controls. There was no steering wheel or control stick, just two peddles on the floor. When the car didn’t immediate surge forward, J’nae looked at him with disgust.

“Did you not observe on the way from the holding compound? Acceleration slides are on the door panel, along with forward and reverse selectors. The pedals steer the transport.”

Adam found the speed bar and pressed a nob forward. The car lurched forward. He began to work the pedals, bouncing off several vehicles before he got the feel. After that it was fairly simple—until their path was blocked by a huge armored truck with flash cannon sticking out from three side ports and aimed directly at them.

Adam slid the speed control forward even more, while pressing hard on the left pedal. The car began to spin in place. A bright flash erupted from the truck, taking out the back right section of their vehicle. Fortunately, no one was hurt.

As the car spun, the front passenger door flew open and J’nae jumped out, in perfect time to send her racing to the armor truck. She grabbed the handle to the driver’s side door and pulled, this time fully intending to rip it from the hinges. She did, and a heartbeat later was inside the heavy black vehicle.

Adam pulled back on the speed controls and countered the spin with a press of the right side pedal. The car slowed, but was sent crashing into the left side of the exit portal

More flashes erupted from the Nuorean truck, but came from inside. A moment later the back door flew open and a lightly glowing J’nae stepped out. Her clothing was smoldering, peeling off mutant skin in small patches of ember that floated away in the light breeze. Soon she was naked, her skin a radiant white.

Even from this distance, Adam felt the heat coming off her skin. “Was that the smartest thing to do?” he yelled at her for a safe distance. “Now no one will want to sit next to you on the way to the spaceport.”

“Get in,” she commanded. “I will meet you there. You do know the way, do you not?”

Adam smirked. “That I did pay attention to.”

J’nae ran off, a white blur dodging between parked vehicles, heavy equipment and even a few startled Nuoreans, mouths agape at the ghostly apparition they thought they just saw.

Adam hustled everyone into the open back of the armored truck. They had to stack dead Nuoreans against one side so they could all fit, not wanting to leave a pile of dead aliens at the entrance to the Grand Arena. Adam slipped into the driver’s seat, Sherri at his side.

She smiled. “I wonder how Adam’s doing?”

* * *

The players separated even more when the referee dropped his arms, each in combat stance. Daric wore a silly grin, while Adam looked nervous, unsure.

The Nuorean struck first, making a swift move to his left, slapping at Adam’s shield. The crowd roared as the clap reached their ears. But Daric wasn’t done. He twirled in place, almost in a blur, and brought the blade in low and intentionally just out of range of Adam’s legs.

Adam stepped back and caught his heel in the dirt. He stumbled, lost his balance, and fell on his ass. Daric lowered his sword and shield and shook his head.

“I would expect more from you. Please, gain your composure. I know you to be more coordinated than this.”

Embarrassed, Adam got to his feet, bushed himself off, and resumed the combat stance. This time when Daric attacked, the alien came in closer, sweeping his blade first left then right. Adam countered each strike with the ringing of metal on metal. The clamor of the crowd was incredible as the aliens got the sense the fight was finally underway.

Adam circled the Nuorean, his sword held out in front of him for balance and to measure distance. Then the Human attacked, whipping his blade from right to left. Daric didn’t retreat. Instead he deftly blocked the sword with his shield and stabbed with his own. Adam slipped away, managing to avoid the razor-sharp edge by inches.

Daric stepped forward again with three quick steps. Adam responded by backing up, until he lost his balance again, this time on the decline of a small valley in the arena. He rolled on his back, over his head and back to his feet.

Although the valley was only four feet deep, Daric stood on the precipice looking down. Then he stepped back, braced his foot in the dirt and propelled himself over the small depression, performing a summersault while swiping at Adam’s head as he flew over.

He landed on the other side in perfect balance and twirled his sword in his wrist with showman-like flair.

Adam was up and out of the depression a moment later, sprinting for one of the half-walls embedded in the ground. He ran to the other side and stopped, facing the slowly approaching Nuorean warrior.

“Yes, now you are getting into the challenge—and the show. Let us prolong this for the enjoyment of the crowd.”

As Daric rounded the partition, Adam shifted to the other side. This went on three more times until Daric stopped and glared at his Human opponent.

“Please stop playing games!”

“I thought that’s what we’re supposed to do, play games.”

Daric squared his jaw, the smile gone from his face. He leapt, landing on top of the six-inch thick wall, swinging across it with this deadly sword. The blade struck Adam’s shield at an angle, causing him to spin to his right. Then the alien’s sword was coming back around, having made a complete circle in the air above Adam’s head. Adam ducked, but the tip caught the flesh along the back of his neck. Daric saw the flesh slice open and cried out with a primal roar. He jumped off the wall, forcing Adam to retreat, rushing for the cover of one of the large square blocks decorating the grounds.

As he ran, Adam looked over his shoulder at the Nuorean. Daric had stopped and was staring with a curious frown at the back of Adam’s neck. There was no blood from the wound. Indeed, there was no wound.

Now it was Adam’s turn to show off his gymnastic abilities. In the light gravity, he jumped and reached the top of the ten-foot-high cube with his elbows hooked onto the edge. Then he rolled on top and stood, sword at the ready, shield to his side.

Daric was below him. “Superb move, utilizing natural advantage within the local environment, knowing I am operating within my native gravity.” He stepped back. “Yet what you do not realize is the natural leaping ability of the Nuor.”

A moment later, Daric had matched Adam jumped to the top of the block, only with more finesse. He reached the top on his feet and already in full stride to attack the Human while Adam was still in awe of the leap.

Adam ran off, hopping from one block to another, each separated by twenty feet or more. In the light gravity, it wasn’t that difficult for the Human…or the Nuorean. Daric chased him until there were no more blocks in the chain forcing Adam to drop to the dusty ground below.

Just as his feet met the surface, a heavy weight fell on his back. The glimmer of a shiny metal sword swinging around from his right made Adam spin to his left. The alien on his back managed to hold on, a strong arm around his neck and the razor-sharp edge of the blade now closer to his throat.

Adam managed to position his own sword between his body and the threatening shaft of metal only inches away. The blades met. With all his strength, Adam fought to keep the edge from making contact.

Then he felt hot breath on the side of his face.

“Are you feeling it yet, Human?” Daric whispered in his ear. Adam shifted his head to the right with the eyes of the combatants only inches apart. “The grip of your sword, I added a special chemical to it. Very slow acting. But the edge of my ressnel was coated with a stronger version. Although I believe I have already broken your skin, I will now let the chemical course through your body as we continue this dance for the enjoyment of my people. As I said, all has been staged.”

The alien fell off his back and stepped away. Both Adam and Daric were now without shields, having discarded them as they jumped from the cubes. But now the sword in Adam’s hand was becoming heavy, heavier than before. Daric swung his blade, slower this time, allowing Adam to counter the strike. Then came another and another, until Adam fell back against one of the huge, solid stone blocks. He countered two more swipes of Daric’s blade, each time his arm dropping lower from the impact. His energy was going; it wouldn’t be long now.

Daric feinted with a sweep of this sword, but instead changed direction and jabbed the blade into Adam’s side. The Human jumped away, stumbling toward the half-wall partition. Daric struck again, this time lashing out at Adam’s back as he ran, cutting through the black fabric of his fighting uniform. Adam rolled along the wall, leaning over the top, using it to keep himself upright.

Growing frustrated that his opponent hadn’t collapsed by now, Daric sent another straight jab across Adam’s side, opening yet another wide slice in the sleeveless uniform. The Nuorean was confused. The upper garment was now cut in several places, barely able to stay in place…yet there was no blood or open wounds.

“I know I have cut you several times!” the alien growled.

“Did you not read…Humans seldom bleed? Only when we want to.”

Adam pushed away from the wall and stood up straight, facing the alien. Daric bared his teeth and came at the Human with his sword at full force and speed. Adam didn’t move from his spot. Instead he used effortless moves of his blade to efficiently counter each from the Nuorean.

Switching position, Daric struck from a one-eighty-degree radius, moving with skill and agility. Adam simply shifted his footing and met each strike with an efficient matching of shiny metal. After this had gone on long enough, Adam swatted away the alien’s blade and stepped forward, chest-slamming Daric to the ground.

He stood back, watching the panicky alien crawl backwards in the soft dirt. Then planting the tip of his sword in the ground, Adam stepped toward the fallen alien unarmed.

Daric swung widely with his blade; Adam avoiding the sword with lightning quick moves to either his left or right, yet always just outside the reach of the tip. Growing bored of this, Adam turned from the alien and walked back to his own sword, still in the ground and wobbling from side to side.

The Nuorean scrambled to his feet and looked around the field for any assistance. He spotted his shield lying twenty feet away. He raced for it. Adam didn’t stop him.

Now with a full arsenal, Daric squared up against the Human once again. He was dirty, yet uninjured.

Adam scanned the sky and the placement of the sun, as if measuring time. The challenge had gone on long enough. It was time to end this.

It was faster than anyone could move, yet Adam was now standing before the alien, lashing out his sword before Daric could react. A deep gash opened in Daric’s sword arm, having sliced through the thin silver armor as if it wasn’t there. Next Adam’s blade contacted the alien’s metal shield, splitting it in half with a powerful downward stroke. Now without a shield, Daric grabbed at his bleeding arm with his free hand and backed away. He was not only injured, but in shock as to the sudden turn of events in the Grand Arena.

“This should not be happening. You should have no control of your appendages by now.”

“You mean like this?” Adam struck again, slicing through both armor and flesh of the alien’s muscular left forearm. With both arms bleeding and weakened, Daric staggered back.

There was a hushed silence within the stadium.

Next came a flash of metal in the morning sun of Ankaa, and a moment later a large ‘X’ appeared on Daric’s chest. Torrents of blood rapidly soaked the golden fabric of his best fighting uniform. He wobbled where he stood, a blank expression on his face and within his vacant eyes.

Without realizing it, the Nuorean’s sword hand fell from his wrist, having been severed by a swing of Adam’s sword too fast to be seen with the naked eye. Daric sank to his knees as Adam knelt, wrapping his free arm around the alien to keep him from toppling over.

Then Adam leaned in close until Daric’s golden eyes focused on him. Panur’s face reverted to its true self. The eyes of the alien grew wide and his mouth opened to form a question.

“My friend, there are things in this galaxy you cannot comprehend,” the mutant whispered. “Your race will not survive what you have started here today.”

When Panur stood, he was Adam Cain once more. He turned to the stunned crowd as a universal gasp hung in the air.

“I am Adam Cain…Human! You have come to the Kac Galaxy seeking combat challenges to advance your civilization. Instead…you have found your downfall. You will all die, here and in your own galaxy, just as will this pitiful creature you profess to be your champion. He is nothing compared to Humans, and to so many other races within the Milky Way Galaxy! You have no idea what you have brought upon yourselves. Now I will show you.”

Adam/Panur turned toward Daric. He was still on his knees, wobbling, about to keel over. With a blur of his ressnel sword, Adam separated Daric’s head from his shoulders. As the head toppled to the dirt, Adam finished up by bringing the blade straight down through the body, splitting it half and exposing the inner organs of the alien for all to see.

In a final show of disrespect, Adam lifted Daric’s bloody head, looked once more into the vacant dead eyes, and then threw it over a hundred yards into the stands, evoking an eruption of gasps from the stunned audience.

Over fifty Nuorean guards came rushing the field, flash weapons aimed at the rampaging alien. Still sporting the image of Adam Cain, Panur raced into the mass of aliens. Flash weapons erupted, but none of the bolts struck him. Instead, Adam’s ressnel sword—the preferred weapon of the Nuorean games—sliced through twenty or more of the aliens before they fell back.

In a blur, Adam/Panur was at the sloping exit ramp from the arena, racing past where the real Adam Cain had been held. To his delight, the cell was empty.

Morphing into his true form—only a taller version to better cope with the long pant legs of his uniform—Panur flew past cells with stunned occupants, who moments before had watched the horrific scene play out on video screens. Many recognized the uniform, but not the face of the alien that rushed past. Even then, some cheered him on.

He came upon the spot where J’nae had killed the first three guards. A half dozen more were on the scene, cleaning up and investigating. Although they knew from the reaction of the audience that something unexpected had happened in the arena, they lacked detail. They watched Panur rush by, later to testify that the grey-skinned alien had a wide grin on his non-Human face.

* * *

Adam drove the huge black truck onto the dirt of the landing field, dazed and confused. The spaceport was a lot larger than when he arrived only nine days before, with additional land cleared to accommodate the rapidly building Nuorean fleet. He had no idea where he was going, which was obvious to the guards at the gate and others on the field. They waved for him to stop or change direction. This continued until he raced past them and they could see into the driver’s compartment. An alien was in control, and dressed in the uniform of a challenge combatant.

More vehicles soon took up the chase through the spaceport, including two of the armored trucks like he was driving. He had no idea where J’nae was, or if she was even at the spaceport. He’d been expecting her to have already secured a starship…but which one? There were over a hundred scattered over the dusty field.

To your right, the large vessel with the double set of viewports in the front. The voice echoed in his mind, undoubtedly through his ATD.

Is that you, J’nae?

Who else would it be? Hurry.

If she could access his ATD, he wondered if she could also read his mind?

I cannot read your mind.

Adam steered the truck toward the indicated starship. If not, then how—

A very educated guess as to what you were thinking. Now hurry, Panur will be here shortly.

Adam pulled back on the speed dial, and with an extra push, the brakes locked up. The truck skidded to a halt next to the large spacecraft. J’nae was at the access hatch, still glowing white but not quite as much.

The back door of the truck burst open and everyone ran out, turning toward the starship. J’nae stepped aside to let them enter, that was until everyone was screaming at her about the heat. Reluctantly, she stepped outside, giving them a wider berth.

Sherri rushed past, as close as she could. “Jesus lady, put on some clothes.”

“I cannot until I cool.”

“Then morph into something without so much…detail.”

A moment later, a seven-tall Sasquatch-looking thing stood at the side of the ship, still white-hot but now covered in matching glowing fur.

Riyad was in the pilot’s seat, scanning the controls. It was one thing to escape on the fly; another having to pilot a craft whose controls you’ve never laid eyes on in your life.

“Damn!” he called out, at a loss to decipher what he was looking at. Adam and Sherri joined him a moment later. This was different than the controls of the small surface lander Adam had stolen from Formil.

It was a circular wheel—and that was it. No markings and no buttons or switches on a console. There was a monitor embedded in a panel in front of them, yet it was also devoid of side buttons or writing.

“What do I do?”

Trimen stuck his head over Sherri’s shoulder. She gasped when she noticed it was the Formilian.

Adam noticed her reaction and grimaced. He had just survived nine days in the clutches of galactic invaders, then led the heroic effort to set them all free—and yet it was still the animal masculinity of the alien that turned her on. He wondered why he even bothered.

“Take the wheel in your hands,” said the handsome alien. “I suspect you should feel finger holds underneath. These are the controls you seek. As to the function of each, I would have no idea except through experimentation.”

“Why have the generators not activated?” J’nae’s voice boomed from the entrance to the bridge. The transformation into the huge hairy beast had dissipated much of her excess energy, bringing her body temperature back down to normal.

“I don’t know how to fly this thing!” Riyad yelled back. “Do you know how?”

The Juirean Overlord, who was also on the bridge, cleared a path for the huge mutant. She leaned over a console along the starboard side bulkhead and ran her hand over the blank top. A screen came to life at her touch. She fingered the panel and a data stream appeared on a screen above the console. The images and writing scrolled by in a blur.

“I have to learn the Nuorean language first. It will only take a second—there. Now I will access the flight control instructions.” More data flew past. Without warning, she turned from the console and came to the pilot seat. “Move, I will do it.”

With enthusiasm, Riyad obeyed, then he joined the others at the back of the bridge. The generators began to wind up with a soothing vibration. They were getting somewhere.

“Someone’s coming!” Manny Brown yelled outside the bridge. “It looks like that gray thing. Manure, or something like that.”

The three Humans on the bridge looked at each other…and burst out laughing. “I’ll have to use that,” Sherri said.

Adam regained his composure. “J’nae, can we track the opposition outside. They’re not going to let us lift off without a fight.”

“Before acquiring this vessel, I disabled the spaceport’s automatic defense system, which could also be used to fire upon a departing ship, as well as incoming threats. Also, I have just now disconnected the remote access controls for the ship. All Nuorean craft are equipped with the means to be remotely controlled from a mothership.”

“That’s how they cut the power to the ship I stole from Formil.”

“That would have been possible. It will not work on this ship any longer. Look…Panur.” J’nae pointed at the screen and the oddly-shaped gray mutant shown racing across the field…with no less than six vehicles straining to keep up. He was still dressed in the battle uniform, which Adam noticed fit remarkably well, considering that Panur was normally only four-and-a-half feet tall.

As they watched the screens, four armor trucks pulled up in front of the spaceship, having arrived from a different direction.

“They’re attempting to block our departure,” said the Juirean Overlord.

“True, except that we intend to depart upwards, not forward,” said a snarky Trimen O’lac.

“They’ll undoubtedly have units waiting for us in space,” Adam noted. “Where’s weapons control?”

J’nae pointed to her right. “The two banks along the right bulkhead. Swipe the consoles to activate the control panels. I will give guidance when the time comes.”

The three Humans raced for the consoles and the two built-in chairs in front of them. Adam got there first, while Sherri and Riyad wrestled for the other chair. The limber female managed to wiggle her shapely behind into the seat before her competition. Riyad grunted and walked away, sulking. “I guess I’ll run the nav station.”

“I have navigation under my control,” J’nae announced.

“Okay…then communications?”

“There will be little need for that,” the mutant pointed out.

Riyad fell back against the rear bulkhead. “I guess that leaves me running the mess hall. Anyone hungry?”

Panur rushed onto the bridge. “All secure, J’nae. Let’s go.” he said. He wasn’t winded, sweating or injured. He was just Panur, only a taller version of him. That changed when he morphed back to his normal size, leaving eight inches of pant legs bunched up on the deck at his feet. He bent down and tore at the excess fabric halfway up his legs, leaving enough to cover the gray, spindly appendages.

The ship began to move, riding a cloud of white smoke above the landing field.

“Make a sweep over the spaceport and the arena using a shallow gravity-well,” Panur ordered.

J’nae moved her hands around the wheel, stopping momentarily to press hidden buttons on the underside of the controller. The ship was about a thousand feet off the ground, and taking flash cannon bolts from the armored trucks below. No fire came from the more-powerful planetside defenses set up around the landing field, thanks to J’nae preliminary actions.

When the mutant activated a gravity-well this close to the surface, weird things began to happen. The heavy trucks firing at them became airborne, only to fall away a moment later as J’nae changed course, taking a slow track over the field and toward the huge building visible in the distance. Some of the smaller ships in the field also lifted off the surface, only to fall back and explode upon impact. Larger vessels didn’t break contact with the surface, yet many did tip over or slide into neighboring ships, resulting in more damage.

Their stolen vessel picked up speed and was soon above the recently-completely Grand Arena. J’nae took a leisurely loop of the complex, causing huge sections of the superstructure to peel off and swirl into the air like in a tornado. A moment later, the entire upper half of the building was gone, with the rest being rained on by huge chunks of stone and metal, along with thousands of alien bodies.

Adam’s stomach turned, thinking about the prisoners who had been waiting in the cells below. There was a chance some would survive the bombardment, yet many wouldn’t. He gained some solace knowing that the destruction of the Grand Arena would delay further challenge matches until it could be rebuilt, affording those in the holding compound a few more weeks of life before the games began anew.

To his surprise, J’nae steered the ship toward the compound, five miles away. She didn’t fly directly over, rather just along the periphery, demolishing the boundary wall and sending panicking guards scrambling for cover. On a close-in view screen, Adam could see hundreds of ant-like creatures swarming over the other individual dots as the gravity influence subsided, igniting a riot and rush for freedom far below.

The Nuorean ship then turned tip-up and headed for the stars.

Adam looked over at J’nae. She didn’t have to help the prisoners, but she did it out of concern for their welfare. Maybe—just maybe—she did have a little compassion hiding deep in that evil soul of hers.

“You’re welcome,” the mutant said without turning.

Damn! She can read my mind!

Chapter 14

There were hundreds of ships in orbit around the planet. Most had been alerted to the escaping starship but they didn’t seem too concerned, even in spite of the damage caused on the surface. One of the three-mile-long motherships was maneuvering for an intercept. In moments the electrical kill-switch would be activated and the comparatively tiny craft would be dead in the water, ready for recovery.

“Will the weapons hold their charges with the power off?” Adam asked the mutants unexpectedly. J’nae had read all the specs, so she knew every nuance of the ship.

“There are capacitors to store accumulated energy,” she replied. “They will retain their charges for up to eight hours before degradation.”

“Good, I have an idea.”

Five minutes later the impulse came through that would shut off all electrical power in the stolen ship. J’nae had already deactivated the switch, but when the signal was detected, she shut all the systems down manually. Two smaller ships emerged from the mothership, setting a course for their helpless vessel. Magnetic grapples latched on, and the ship was towed to the aft end of the battle-carrier.

Adam and Sherri sat ready at weapons control.

No shields were raised on either the tow-vessels or the huge carrier since the captive ship was without power for any of its systems. The lead ships entered the huge hangar and released the grapples. Internal magnetic lines would place the recovered ship within the bay.

With a brilliant flash, a barrage of powerful plasma bolts flared out from the smaller ship, aimed directly at the soft inner skin of the mothership. The bolts penetrated deep into the belly of the craft, igniting a series of massive explosions that rippled forward within the long hull. More bolts were released—a total of thirty in all—before J’nae fired up the Nuorean ship and sent it screaming from the landing bay, and just ahead of a massive wave of escaping gas and other debris blown out the back.

As they watched the image of the huge ship on the bridge screens, more breaks appeared in the shiny metal hull, spewing out brief flares of gas that were quickly extinguished in the vacuum of space. But the explosive force remained. The snake-like ripples reached the midpoint along the ship’s length, where a critical mass was reached. The behemoth split in two, with each half exploding almost in unison.

Those aboard the commandeered Nuorean ship gasped when the mothership blew up, the results far better than anyone expected. They were just looking to disable the ship and cause a little havoc along the way. Now it was splash one three-mile-long Nuorean battle-carrier. There were five more carriers in the original fleet, plus an unknown number in the two thousand reinforcements the late Daric (611) had mentioned. Even with that, it was a good start….

The huge explosion—along with the inability of the smaller Nuorean ship to respond to the kill order—gave J’nae the opportunity to enter a deep gravity-well and bolt out of the cluster. But she didn’t steer inward, toward the heart of the galaxy. Instead she sent the craft farther out along the Radis Spur.

Adam was too wrapped up in the celebration taking place on the bridge to notice the course direction. They were free, and they’d made quite the exit before leaving. And it was all thanks to Sherri, Riyad and Trimen—as well as the two mutants.

Panur made for a comical figure, dressed in a shredded and oversized wife-beater shirt and baggy cut-offs, both accentuating his slight build and light gray skin. Adam knew it was an illusion. Even without transforming into some powerful and deadly beast, the mutant was unstoppable, in spite of his diminutive build.

So was J’nae. She had reverted to her true form and was sitting at the main controls naked as the day Panur created her, displaying all the features that made her a female. Sure, she was an alien, but it still made the Humans on the bridge uncomfortable.

Sherri rummaged around the back compartments of the ship until she located a medical gown in the small sickbay that was blousy enough to cover most of the alien’s seven-foot stature. J’nae took the garment without too much grumbling, knowing it would keep her from having to maintain an energy-sapping transformation into a more modestly-covered creature.

Adam began a short speech. All twelve passengers were on the bridge, a room designed to hold maybe six at tops. The smell was beyond tolerance, but he had something to say. “We—all of us—want to thank you for getting us out of that hellhole. I was at my wit’s end. We were going to die there, I was sure.” He looked at Panur and nodded. “There was a chance I could have taken Daric, but after that, who knows?”

“It would not have been possible, my friend,” Panur said. “Your sword was poisoned, as was the Nuorean’s blade. You would have succumbed, appearing at first to grow weary from the Nuorean’s relentless attack, after which he would have struck you down with much fanfare and ceremony. Adam Cain, you were destined to die this day in the arena.”

Adam smiled. “Well screw destiny…and screw Daric. He couldn’t even face me man-to-…alien without rigging the game. Thanks again.”

The Juireans and Adam’s three prisoner friends now offered their gratitude as well, before most of them sought better air in other parts of the ship. J’nae remained at the controls, as Panur pulled Adam aside, with Sherri, Riyad and Trimen tagging along uninvited.

Adam knew what was coming.

“Now my friend, you have already surmised my true intent. Although I’m glad you’re safe, tell me where Lila was taken.”

Adam needed the mutants if he was to have any chance of saving his daughter. It would be impossible otherwise. Hell, even with them, it may be impossible. The Aris had taken Lila without so much as batting an eye—and she was the most-powerful being in the galaxy—when not counting the Aris, of course. He would cooperate, even if it meant losing her at the end to Panur and his contention that she needed to be with her own kind.

“I don’t know exactly. All I can tell you is what Zee told me.”

“That’s fine; I’ll extrapolate from there,” said Panur.

“According to Zee, the Aris are long-term thinkers, and I mean really long-term, like in the billions of years. With their world about to be destroyed, they sought another place where they could pass the time. It couldn’t be on a planet, because the parent star would continue to wander throughout the galaxy, taking them into regions where other beings might discover them. Planets are also subject to natural forces, with even the possibility of collisions with other objects. So according to Zee, they built an artificial world, one that they could control to maintain a somewhat stationary position, even as the galaxy changed around them.”

Panur frowned. “I don’t understand their reasoning. They could travel to any world at will, avoiding contact, if that’s what they wanted. And even then, as they evolved, contact with other species would have been a cause for study and experimentation, if not complete dismissal. Unless….”

Adam nodded. “They didn’t continue to evolve.”

J’nae came over to where the small group was huddled. “They have not evolved over these past three billion years?” She appeared almost in a panic.

“Will you stop reading my mind,” Adam pleaded.

“I cannot read your mind; I told you that. Yet I can anticipate your thoughts—and I have exceptional hearing. Explain more about the Aris.”

“There’s not much more. Zee said they began a lot of experiments way back when and they wanted to see them come to fruition. They thought that if they continued to evolve, they would lose interest in the results, making their efforts a waste of time and energy. So they found a way to suspend their evolution, at least until a trigger was reached. According to Zee, Lila was the trigger.”

“But they could have achieved so much more,” J’nae protested.

“Perhaps not,” Panur countered. “Once a civilization has survived for a million years, boredom is sure to set in. Things that once seemed important are not so much any longer. J’nae, you and I have only just begun our journey and already we are desperate for new stimulation, new challenges. Imagine what we will be like in a million years? There wouldn’t be much more to do except evolve. And into what, more cerebral beings who do nothing but think? We are creatures of action, of touch, feel and stimulation. Imagine life without such things.”

“I would like to.”

“You are still young, with so much life ahead of you. Use your mind to imagine being detached from all things you can now experience. It would be like…death.”

J’nae’s eyes turned emotionless as she stared at Panur, ignoring the penetrating glare from Sherri. Death was what J’nae was seeking, according to what Sherri had told Adam. Perhaps an eternity of evolution would allow a being to achieve a type of living death, another plane of existence detached from this world by billions of years. The Aris had that opportunity, yet they chose not to take it.

“I know now why the Aris chose the path they did,” Panur said softly. “They didn’t want to die.”

* * *

“You refer to death as we define it,” J’nae continued to protest. “The Aris definition could be different. Why would this existence even matter if we evolve beyond it?”

Panur considered his creation for a moment, studying her face and her words. “Because, J’nae, we have no choice but to live within this existence. For us, evolution is not an option.”

Adam was surprised by the statement. “You mean for you and J’nae…and Lila?”

“Yes, my friend, that is exactly who I refer to. Mortal beings continue to evolve through the ages. It’s a process that cannot be stopped, unless you possess the intellect of the Aris. This force of nature—of existence—is what has brought us to this point in time.”

“I did not evolve; I was created,” said J’nae with defiance, even anger.

“You were created…to be immortal. Consider what immortally is: It is the continuation of a system without change, while evolution creates immortally through change.”

“Damn, that’s heavy?” Sherri said, intrigued by the discussion.

Panur continued. “An immortal being has no need for evolution. The system will continue without the need for life-sustaining modification. Mortal creatures require evolution to create more durable, stronger and intelligent individuals to guarantee the system’s overall survival. Evolution is nature’s answer to immortality. It allows for the continuation of the system, while sacrificing the individual. What would an immortal creature be who continues to evolve? At that point, evolution becomes like a cancer, allowing the immortal to evolve into something else, possibly negating the immortality. J’nae, you and I do not need to evolve. As individuals, we have already achieved the objective of all life in the universe, a self-sustaining system for all eternity.”

“So for all the advancement of the Aris, they are not immortal?” Trimen asked.

“Exactly,” Panur said. “They’re still mortal beings who must evolve to ever-higher levels to assure survival of the system. It may appear as though they’ve achieved immortality, but that’s only an illusion. They could have developed incredibly long life-spans, long enough to where even evolution might play a part in their demise, but it would not be true immortality, not like we have achieved.” He turned sad eyes on J’nae.

“So in a billion years—”

“We will be exactly as we are today.”

At that moment, Adam sincerely hoped J’nae couldn’t read his mind, because he just came to a startling revelation. A person who could live forever without changing— without ever moving on to bigger and better things—would eventually go insane, and maybe sooner rather than later.

* * *

Panur smiled. “Let us move beyond all these philosophical musings and get on to the matter at hand. Where is this artificial world built by the Aris?”

“Zee said it was in the same area of space as their homeworld—or where it had been three billion years ago.”

“And where is that?”

“He didn’t say.”

There was a long moment of silence until broken by Trimen. “Then there is no hope of finding Lila,” the Formilian said. His tanned face was a shade or two darker, reflecting the anger and frustration he felt. “I thought we would learn and then begin a journey of rescue. What have we achieved for all our efforts and intellectual exercises?”

“I’m sorry, Trimen. This is all I know. Remember, I want to find her as much as you do.”

Adam caught notice of Panur’s intense, steady stare…at nothing.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked the mutant.

“The Aris home planet was destroyed three billions years ago,” Panur began. “In that time, the galaxy has continued to swirl and the stars migrate, yet we should be able to reverse time by following star tracks backwards and place them in their positions at the time the Aris star consumed the planet. Then we simply look for cosmic events that would destroy a system.”

“Where do we begin looking?” Riyad asked. “I’m sure you and J’nae can backtrack the stars—probably in your heads—and then we’d have the galaxy as it looked three billion years ago. But I can imagine there would be a lot of supernovas occurring at any given time. Which one would be the Aris star?”

“But the Aris star didn’t die as a supernova,” Panur countered. “For the Aris to evolve to the point where a civilization could exist for a million years, their planet had to be located in very a stable system, and not within one containing a massive star whose life would be measuring in millions of years, not billions. Contrary to your statement, Riyad, such supernova events are rare in the galaxy. The Aris star would have died in a much smaller event.”

“And more common,” Sherri pointed out, “which would make the search even harder.”

“Wait!” Adam exclaimed, catching everyone’s attention. “I have it.” It was so simple. He glanced at the anxious faces and smiled.

“Any time, Adam, we’re waiting,” Sherri said.

“Zee!”

“What about her?”

“We know where she was found—”

“That’s correct,” interrupted Panur. “We simply project back using fragments of the Aris home planet in which the orb was found, eventually reaching the point of origin. From there we search the region for an artificial structure.” Panur said, stealing some—all—of Adam’s thunder.

“That’s right,” Adam grumbled.

“Using even a minimal movement track of the fragments we can extrapolate from there.” Panur placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Very good, my friend, there’s hope for you after all.”

“So where was the object found?” J’nae asked.

“I don’t really know,” Adam admitted, “but the Incus do! They’re the ones who found it—her.”

“Please set course for Incus, J’nae,” Panur ordered.

“Difficult,” J’nae replied. “I have no navigational charts for the galaxy aboard this vessel.”

“It’s in the Kidis Frontier, near where we—I had my palace.”

“Recall, Panur, this is my first venture into this galaxy.”

“I will guide you.”

“Aren’t you forgetting about something…like the damn Nuoreans?” Riyad pointed out. “We have to let the galaxy know about them, where they’re located and that more ships have arrived. Besides, do you think it’s wise to go up against the Aris with just us, even if we do have our two mutant friends with us? Having superpowers didn’t help Lila.”

“He’s right,” said Adam. “Also, with more ships we can search the area faster. And it wouldn’t hurt to have more firepower should the Aris not give up Lila voluntarily.”

“We don’t have time,” Panur stated. “We’re going straight there.”

“Now look who has the death wish,” Sherri said.

“Why the rush?” Adam asked. He wanted to save Lila just as much as the next guy, but there was something Panur wasn’t telling them.

All eyes were on Panur, all except J’nae’s. She was already at the control station.

Begrudgingly, Panur continued. “Have you wondered why the Aris were so anxious to take Lila—why she was the trigger for their awakening?”

Adam shrugged.

“Consider our prior conversation. The Aris are seeking to avoid evolution—yet still live forever. The only way they can do that is to become truly immortal—like Lila.”

“They want to…use her, learn from her—or what?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know,” said the mutant. “But whatever they do, it will involve some violation of Lila. I find that prospect difficult to accept.”

“Me too,” said Adam.

“As do I,” Trimen added.

Sherri cleared her throat for effect. “We still have the little problem of the Nuoreans. You promised to help.”

Panur leaned back in his chair. “Yes, I did, and I have. Adam is free.”

“But now we’re rushing off in a stolen enemy warship to the other side of the galaxy,” Riyad countered, “on a trip that will take us a couple of months just to get there. In the meantime, the invaders are bringing in more units to the Milky Way with every intention of eventually making all of us pieces in their games of life or death. I hate to say this, but Lila is just one person. And what if the Aris do find the Fountain of Youth in her? Would that be such a bad thing? And you have to admit, we don’t have any idea if we could stop them even if we find her.” He paused to look into the faces of Adam and Trimen. “We have to have priorities, at least in the short-term. Let’s deal with the Nuoreans first, then we go after Lila.”

Now all eyes turned to Panur again. Adam had a pretty good idea J’nae didn’t give a damn anymore, now that she knew the Aris weren’t three billion years more advanced than before. Only Panur needed convincing.

“I will give you thirty days, after which I go and J’nae with me. You will then have to face the Nuoreans alone.”

“That’s what we’d be doing if you went after her now,” Sherri said. “So thanks. It’s better than nothing.”

“Now that a consensus has been reached…what do we do?” asked Trimen. He—like Adam—was torn between his personal priorities and duty to his race and galaxy. But Riyad made sense.

Panur stared off into space for a moment before answering. “As with any flood—be it water or invaders—it’s always best to shut off the supply first, after which the cleanup can begin. Seeing that we are currently heading farther into the Radis Spur, let us see if we can find that source, if only to inform your forces for further action. Will that satisfy your priorities?”

“It does mine,” Riyad said. He turned to J’nae. “Can this ship establish comm links with the Expansion or the Union…or anyone on our side?”

“The Nuoreans are interconnected among all their units, with communications monitored by a central command. If we attempt contact, they will know. Our location will be revealed and the information we relay become known.”

“This ship seems to be the problem,” Adam concluded. “We need to find another one, and something built in this galaxy.”

“If we could locate such a vessel, I could modify it for limited trans-dimensional hops. That would quicken our journey to Incus,” Panur offered.

“You can’t modify this one?” Trimen asked.

“Not without a supply of compatible native parts from other Nuorean vessels,” J’nae answered.

“So we need to find a nearby shipyard with a good supply of Milky Way parts and pieces.” Riyad concluded. “What’s around here? I thought this place was sparsely populated, with just a bunch of low-life drug dealers and gun runners killing each other for sport.”

“I do not have access to any local information,” J’nae said, “not in this vessel.”

“Another reason to find a replacement,” Adam said. “Do you have any navigational information at all?”

“Very little. What there is has been fed from the central command.”

“This is weird, flying blind in our own galaxy. Okay, let’s start making sweeps of some of the more promising nearby star systems. There has to be life around here somewhere, and someone with a map we can borrow.”

Chapter 15

He’d come to the Radis Spur for his health, not to stick his neck out just to have it sliced in two by some alien’s ceremonial sword. This new race of invaders—the Nuoreans—were proving they didn’t give a damn what species you belonged to or whether or not you’d aligned with any of the galactic empires. They’d take anyone captive to play in their silly alien games.

Copernicus Smith was having a hard enough time dealing with the locals. These guys were badass hombres—gun runners and drug pushers—and he’d spent over a year getting them to trust him. Along the way he’d broken about a dozen major laws proving his cred—and now the Union big wigs want him to throw it all away and go out looking for these aliens from Andromeda.

But as they say, his job wasn’t to reason why, just do and die. It was that last part he was having a problem with.

The entire region was abuzz with news of the Nuoreans. Although the Spur was the badlands of the galaxy, it still had CW communications, so they knew of the alien raid on Formil and the missing head-mutant, Lila. They’d also heard of the ill-fated battle between Milky Way and Andromeda forces and rumors of how the aliens were grabbing people to play in their life-or-death games. And now his crews and clients were reporting that there was an almost-continuous train of new alien ships chugging in from the outer regions of the Spur.

Dutifully, he’d passed along these reports to his handlers. But now they wanted him to go out and take a look for himself. And if that wasn’t enough, they also wanted him find out how they’re getting in…and shut it down. That’s all. Just a walk in the galactic park.

It had been two years since Copernicus left the Kidis Frontier, content to set up shop about as far from Earth as he could, with the intention of never running into the vengeful Adam Cain or Riyad Tarazi ever again. The super-secret intel service he worked for had supplied him with the resources and a decent legend to do just that. His new base-of-operations wasn’t as pretty or tropical as his last one—in fact he was right in the shit with all the other bad boys—on the planet Crisen-Por and the city of Grack. Hell, the planet wasn’t even on the standard navigation charts. But the criminal elements knew the place, and now they came to him for starship repair services and spare parts, accepting him into their fold out of necessity. A good mechanic was always welcomed, even if he was a Human.

Copernicus did most of the repairs himself these days, while sending his crews out to scour the Spur for derelict starships. Parts were hard to come by this far out, so they had to make do with what they could find floating in space. Since arriving, Radis Repair Services had filled a needed niche in the local economy, making Copernicus Smith a local favorite among the eclectic mix of personalities in Grack and other establishments in the Spur.

But now everyone was running scared. The bad guys didn’t have a place to go to avoid the invaders—they were wanted beings in the Galaxy proper. Most just cut back on their operations, staying close to the settled star systems and their host planets. Even Copernicus recalled his crews. It was too dangerous for them to go bolting through space these days, not until the crisis cooled down.

Although the main alien transit route was only twenty light-years from Crisen-Por, none of the enemy ships had blessed them with a visit. In fact, none of the local worlds in the Radis had been hit. The aliens appeared to have other locales in their sights, those farther into the galaxy.

* * *

Copernicus was out in his shipyard, bundled against the cold and taking a quick mental inventory of what he had available for his mission of clandestine discovery. He had a working cruiser—a Belsonian D-4. It was about five hundred feet long with dual generators capable of reaching seven-light. Not bad, but it also left a pretty bright grav sig in its wake. It also required a crew of three to run it.

He also had a Vessin Fracker, a small survey vessel about fifty-feet long. It had a single generator—that wasn’t good—but it was stealthy and could be crewed by one.

Then there was the Castorian G-8. That would probably be it; one-person operation, dual gens, but could only operate at four-light. That was fine. The slow speed reduced the sig, and it was more important for him to stay out of trouble than to run from it.

Of course, he would add a couple of extra flash cannon and upgrade the circuit breakers—as command had recommended. The primary weapon of the Nuoreans appeared to be a bolt of condensed electricity that overloaded normal breakers. All allied ships were in the process of having the heavy-duty breakers installed.

The local sun was setting and there would be snow overnight. Copernicus pulled his coat a little tighter around his shivering torso. In the morning, he’d have his crews install the extra flash weapons and stock the ship with food and ammo. He’d leave right after that.

A strong whip of wind assailed the skin on his face not covered by his thick, black beard. God I missed the planet Liave-3.

* * *

“Boss, you better get in here. There’s a ship entering the system and everyone’s freaking out.”

Copernicus heard the voice in his ear as he walked back to the repair shack. He didn’t respond until he’d entered and shut the door, preserving the radiant heat from the small generator in the corner.

He removed his coat and stepped over to his second-lead—a Simminon named Lopis Drun—seated at a hodgepodge of comm equipment placed on a board with boxes for legs.

“What’s the big deal?”

“It’s a Nuorean ship.”

Copernicus tensed. This was the moment they’d been expecting. Copernicus shrugged. Maybe it was a good time to get out of town.

“You said a ship. There’s only one?” He leaned over to study the screen detailing the path of the starship. The locals maintained a pretty extensive early-warning system, insurance in case the Expansion ever decided to crack down on their operations. All the affiliated groups shared the information.

There was just a single blip moving into the system, approaching Crisen-Por.

“Any communications?”

“No…not even sure if they could link to us if they wanted. I haven’t heard of that happening.”

Copernicus noticed the modest intensity of the grav signature. “Hell, it’s not even one of the big ones. Pretty bold coming in here alone.”

“Who’s going to fire on them? That might draw more attention to us.”

Copernicus placed a hand on the shoulder of the thick, double-horned creature, looking more like a blue-tinted devil than the gentle giant he was. “There’s a lot of firepower in the system to deal with the threat—if it is a threat. We better lay low and see what happens.”

“Roger that.”

It had taken Copernicus nearly a year to train Lopis to speak with more Human-like slang. He was coming along nicely. It made Copernicus less homesick when he did.

* * *

Two hours later, Copernicus was just finishing his second cup of decaf and sitting with Lopis when the Nuorean ship made orbit and circled the planet a couple of times without attempting landfall. Then it hovered above the city, finding something on the surface that piqued its interest.

“Here it comes,” Lopis announced. “Heading for the city.”

About fifty ships owned and crewed by the criminal element of the region had left the planet an hour earlier, taking up residence just outside the orbit of Crisen-Por’s only moon, watching and waiting. None were in an offensive posture. They were getting ready to run, not fight.

Copernicus wasn’t worried. He was just one person out of a population of over two-hundred thousand in Grack. If the aliens wanted players for their games, there were plenty of other diverse species available for the picking other than the planet’s solitary Human.

But then the ship changed course. Copernicus and Lopis leaned in closer to the screen. The alien ship was heading toward the north side of the city. Radis Repair Service was located on the north side.

A minute later, Copernicus leaned back in the chair and grimaced. That’s what I get for running a starship repair service.

The alien craft set down in the service field next to the shipyard, stirring up a thick cloud of landing exhaust under the glow of floodlights and the shimmering moon above.

The bastards need my help, Copernicus thought. Maybe that would keep him from being taken captive, out of gratitude—and in lieu of payment. He had no illusions the invaders were going to pay for his services.

“Stay here,” he said to Lopis. “But be ready. If things get dicey I’ll need backup.”

He put his coat on and pulled the fur-lined hood tight over his head. Next he placed an MK-17 bolt launcher in the large right hand pocket and donned his gloves. It was nearly ten below outside, but that was no guarantee things couldn’t heat up in a hurry.

He stepped outside, ignoring the frigid blast of cold on his minimally exposed face. The modest-size starship was cooling rapidly in the atmosphere, popping and creaking with the best of them. Copernicus neared the main exit hatch and waited for the occupants to appear, resigned to the simple fact that he had no idea what was going to happen next.

* * *

“There appears to be quite a few potential vessels in the field,” J’nae said, studying the video monitor. “A being is waiting at the outer hatch.”

“You know we have no money to pay for a starship,” Sherri pointed out to those on the bridge. Adam wasn’t worried. He still had one of the flash weapons from the Nuoreans they’d killed back at the Grand Arena. They’d also found an armory within the ship, with a variety of other devices, some of unknown use or utility.

“Then let’s not spend too much time negotiating,” he said. “The place looks pretty run down, but this area is a hotbed of crooks and miscreants. I’m sure they’ll fight if they have to. We’ll take over the shipyard and then pick the best vehicle we can as fast as we can.”

“I will lead the way, if you wish,” said Panur. “I could use a good flash charge if things go awry.”

“That’s fine, just don’t go out of your way to get shot. You know how you guys heat up when pumped full of all that juicy plasma.”

“Just one bolt? Otherwise I’ll have to tap into the generators for a recharge.”

Adam smiled at the little gray mutant. They had quite the history together, with much of the alien’s Human-like personality having been drawn from Adam’s mannerisms. He was still the deadliest creature in existence, but he did have his moments.

Panur had fashioned a simple one-piece tunic out of a Nuorean uniform he’d found aboard. He didn’t need anything extra to protect him from the outside cold. The hatch cracked open and Panur presented himself to the being waiting patiently outside, huddling close to the hull for warmth.

“Greetings,” said Panur. “We wish to discuss the purchase of a new starship. Are you the proprietor?”

* * *

Copernicus studied the short, gray alien. So this is a Nuorean? I thought they’d be taller.

“Yes, I am the proprietor,” he answered. “You said you want to purchase a starship?”

Another figure, dressed in a thick coat and carrying an energy weapon of alien design, pushed past the gray creature and pressed the barrel of the pistol into Copernicus’s ribs.

Coop’s hands were still in his pockets, his right gripping the MK-17 hidden inside.

“Yeah, maybe purchase wasn’t the right word,” said the creature, humor in his voice. “More like we’re here to take one of your starships.”

“Like hell you are!”

Copernicus pulled the MK from his pocket and brought it to the alien’s head. The creature was just as quick, placing his own weapon against Coop’s forehead for effect. A tense standoff ensued, until the two combatants shifted their attention from the barrels of the weapons to their faces only inches apart.

“Smith!”

“Cain!”

* * *

Adam shoved the traitorous starship mechanic away, sending him tumbling to the ground. Both their weapons remained aimed at the other person.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the two men spoke in unison.

Riyad joined Adam outside, the barrel of his weapon also pointing at the figure on the ground. “At least there won’t be any remorse about stealing one of his starships. The way I see it, this dung-eater owes us…big time.”

Panur hopped to the ground, ignoring the cold. “I take it you’ve met? Isn’t this a small galaxy?”

“Too small,” Adam growled. “So Smith…what are you going to do with that MK? Think carefully before you answer.”

Copernicus let go of the pistol, letting it dangle on his trigger finger. “If I shot you it would probably just piss you off.”

“It always has in the past.”

“Before you kill me, let me explain.”

“Explain what?” Riyad asked.

Copernicus smiled. “Who I really am.”

Chapter 16

“That’s a bunch of bullshit!” Adam yelled. “You expect us to believe you’re some kind of galactic James Bond, and that everything you did to us was under orders?”

“Who is James Bond?” Lopis asked. The alien was sitting across the room under the watchful eye of four huge Juireans. Copernicus was on a torn leather couch, still wearing his coat, with Adam and Riyad standing over him.

“Look, he’s sweating,” Sherri pointed out. She’d only met Copernicus once before, at a restaurant on Worak-nin a little over two years ago.

“That’s because it’s hot in here. Let me take off the coat.”

“Go ahead. Just don’t try anything,” Adam said.

“Like what? There are twelve of you against the two of us.”

“I’m not with him,” Lopis called out from across the room.

“Okay, then just me. It’s the truth, Cain. I was under orders to use you and Riyad to help find the Klin. And it worked. They came to me offering to buy the two of you. Then we used a tracker I planted on you to find the Klin Colony Ship.”

“Our own government ordered you to use us as bait?”

“Well, not exactly. They left the details up to me. I had to improvise along the way…that’s what field agents do.”

“And we spent ten days being tortured by the Klin, not for information or anything like that, but just for their own sadistic pleasure,” Adam said.

“Sorry...it wasn’t supposed to take that long to rescue you. But with the Juireans swarming all over the place, it took more time to get you out. And then the damn aliens blew up the Colony Ship. We were supposed to gain information from it to lead us to the rest of them. But we did manage to eliminate twenty thousand of the silver-skinned bastards. Overall, the mission was a success.”

“A success!”

“That’s right. Besides, everything worked out in the end. The two of you survived long enough to launch a scorched earth campaign all the way to Juir.” Copernicus looked at the Juirean Overlord and frowned. “Too soon?”

The blue-haired alien glared at him.

“So what are you doing here?” Sherri asked.

Copernicus shrugged. “Since I still had a job to do, I sought out a place about as far away from Adam and Riyad I could find. I didn’t want them to track me down.” He looked around the room and snorted. “How was I to know today was going to happen?”

“Are you buying any of this?” Adam asked the room.

“I detect no signs of mistruths in the Human’s countenance,” J’nae answered. “He is telling the truth.”

Adam paced the room, still holding the alien energy weapon. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“How about not kill me?”

Adam stopped and growled, “That’s one option…a slim one.”

“Let’s think of the bigger problem,” Trimen began. “We need a new starship and Mr. Smith has several. He also knows the Spur better than we do, and he has been tasked with the same mission as have we. It only makes sense that we combine our forces and missions.”

Adam stared at the Formilian, his mouth hanging limp. He sighed, not believing it was coming down to him and Copernicus Smith partnering up for the good of the galaxy.

For the good of the galaxy. That was the only reason he didn’t turn the spy’s head into mush with a bolt from his launcher.

“Fine,” he said. “But keep an eye on this slimy bastard. We thought he was one of the good guys before.”

“And I was…really.”

“That’s a matter of interpretation, dickhead.”

* * *

The next day Adam, Riyad and the Juirean Overlord surveyed the inventory of ships in the yard. The Juireans had announced their intention to accompany the Humans and mutants on their mission to learn how the Nuoreans were entering the galaxy, yet they’d only tag along if they could have their own starship.

Adam chose the larger Belsonian D-4. It was faster, had more firepower, and it could also carry the small Fracker in its hold. The Juireans took the Castorian G-8. It would be cramped aboard with four huge Juireans packed into a ship designed for two normal-size beings. But Adam got the feeling the Juireans had had enough contact with the Humans for a while. He didn’t blame them. He would be glad to see them go as well.

Copernicus had six employees, including Lopis Drun. They set about beefing up the circuit breakers on all three vessels, along with a few extra flash cannon for the G-8. None of Coop’s crew would be coming along. They made that very clear. Most criminals—even those along the fringes—were pragmatists first, heroes a distant second. They didn’t see how deliberately looking for the Nuoreans was a very sensible thing to do.

The fleet of pirates, gunner runners and drug dealers had returned to the planet once the Nuorean ship landed in the shipyard and they realized there was no danger—at least no immediate danger. Later that day, a caravan of rusty cars and trucks pulled up to the security gate at Radis Repair Service and demanded to see Copernicus. They were armed to the teeth, so it was either let them in or they would come in on their own.

Adam, Overlord Safnos and J’nae joined the mechanic at the gate. Panur and the others were working on a quick modification of the D-8 to install a limited TD-drive, culled together from spare parts in the yard.

“Bacs, what’s going on?” Copernicus asked a muscle-bound alien with four limbs for locomotion and four more as arms. His head was block-shaped, and with heavy plates of bone on each side. He had the sharp teeth of a meat-eater.

“Are these the creatures coming forth in the Nuorean ship?” Bacs growled—literally. It was how he talked.

“Yes, this is Adam Cain and—”

“We are not for identities,” the criminal boss interrupted. “Concerned is the presence of alien starship here, a vessel traced to Crisen-Por can be. Avoided have we the invaders, but now trail you have provided an excuse to attack the planet. Our stake is considerable for maintaining operations here. Now prepare we for immediate departure, should appear more alien craft.”

“We’ll be leaving soon, as early as tomorrow.”

“Not allowed.”

Copernicus shook his head. “I thought you want us gone?”

“Yes…for now—” a dozen high-powered flash weapons were suddenly turned on the Adam and the others, “—Nuoreans turn over you, and stolen vessel.”

Copernicus took a step toward the four-legged creature, his face hard as stone. “What have you done, Bacs?”

“To Nuoreans, under truce sent ship, reveal here your presence. Not honor do aliens flag. Still, Nuoreans react on way here. Help prevent from leaving you show willingness for immunity.”

“The Nuoreans don’t give a damn about what you do or don’t do,” Adam said. “We’re all just players for their games, every last one of us. They can’t be bargained with. They’ll take us and everyone else on your planet. All you’ve done is show them the way.”

“Aliens will—”

J’nae now stepped forward, still dressed in the blousy medical robe, but looking imposing with her seven-foot tall stature. “—Kill you,” she announced in a voice Adam figured had been modified to come out even more forceful and bombastic. Flash weapons shifted to the yellow-skinned mutant. She scanned the faces of the gunmen—aliens—with a gleam in her eye.

Adam wouldn’t let them fire; that’s all he would need is a radiant mutant who would take hours to cool down. He located the Formilian manufactured firing controls for each of the flash weapons aimed at them and severed the circuits with his ATD. Now if they did attack, he’d let J’nae tear them apart by hand. He had no problem with that.

“How long until they get here?”

Bacs turned to another savage-looking beast next to him. “Two hours, maybe,” said the other alien.

“Dammit,” Adam said to his group. “That won’t give Panur enough time to complete his modifications.” He turned back to the crime boss. “You and your people need to clear out. Get as many as you can up and away.”

“No! Will we keep until Nuoreans here. Gratitude.”

“C’mon,” Adam said to his people. “Let’s tell Panur.”

“Stop!” Bacs ignored the order and turned away. “To fire!”

Copernicus had seen Adam’s ATD work before, so he smiled at the savage beast as confusion and frustration spread through his force when their weapons failed to fire. “There are forces operating here more powerful than you could ever imagine,” he said to Bacs. “Now I’d take Cain’s advice and get the hell off the planet as soon as you can. That’s what we’re going to do.”

A few of the aliens rushed into the compound after Coop and the others, but they stopped in their tracks when J’nae turned to them, growing to over ten feet tall in a matter of seconds. A variety of eye types became enlarged as the inclination to fight suddenly vanished. Bacs yelled at them, and a moment later, the caravan was kicking up a huge dust cloud on its way back to town.

* * *

Panur kept working as Adam gave him the news. He was tightening down a square module on a series of tubes in the engine room of the D-4.

“I haven’t completed the conversion, but I can create a wave disturbance in our wake.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we can cover our tracks without difficulty. However, the ship’s standard engines are in mid-modification. We can only achieve about half our normal speed.”

“A D-4 can reach seven-light,” Copernicus reported. “Three-point-five to four will put it comparable to the G-8. Will your gravity wave thingamajig cover the Juireans as well?”

“If they lead the way.”

“We accept,” said Safnos. Adam knew Juireans would be the first ones into a roiling cauldron of fire if it meant beating out a Human for the honor.

“Can you take along the parts to complete the conversion?” Adam asked the mutant.

“Yes, but I’ll need downtime with the engines of thirteen additional hours to finish.”

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes.” Adam turned to Copernicus. “Are the ships stocked?”

“Good enough. Hopefully we won’t be out there too long.”

“Okay, let’s get everyone aboard who’s going; the more distance we can put between us and the Nuoreans the better. They have ships capable of speeds a lot higher than four-light. We’re going to need the head start.”

None of Coop’s crew had changed their minds about going along. Most were already long gone in fact, having hitched a ride back into town with the caravan of criminals. Lopis stepped up to his boss and shook his hand.

“Good luck. And by the way…I never liked you,” the alien said. “I only tolerated you for the credits.”

Copernicus raised an eyebrow. When Lopis went to pull away after the handshake, he found Coop holding on with increasing pressure. The alien began to grimace as the pain increased. Then he was released.

“A word of advice, Lopis,” Coop began. “Never say something like that face-to-face to a Human. We have very nasty dispositions.”

Not heeding the advice just given, Lopis blurted, “Yes, I have noticed, quite nasty.” Then he scurried away at a full sprint.

Adam looked at the mechanic. “Your friend’s a good judge of character.”

“Hey, I’m not the one known as the alien with an attitude. That would be you, Mister Cain.”

“That’s Captain Cain to you.”

Adam smiled. So did Copernicus.

* * *

“How much of a lead do we have on the Nuoreans?” Adam asked. Coop was piloting the Belsonian D-4, having left the Crisen-Por system two hours before.

“Hard to tell, that depends how long it takes them to recover from the Easter Eggs I left scattered around the shipyard for them.”

“Bombs?” Sherri asked, listening in on the conversation.

“Yeah, including several in the ship you brought. I figure after this mission I won’t be returning to my shipyard anyway. Won’t be much left when the eggs start going off.”

“That will only harden their resolve to find us,” Trimen said from the other side of the bridge.

Adam laughed. “You’re forgetting that Panur has already killed their precious leader. I don’t think they need any more incentive than that.”

Earlier, Panur had spent a few minutes under the navigation console making modifications. When he climbed out from underneath, he announced a doubling of the scanning range.

“We’ll now be able to see the Nuoreans long before they see us,” he announced. “Yet we’ll still have to update the Juireans.” He left the bridge to work on other projects.

The huge aliens were a light-year ahead in the G-8, their gravity-well cranked up to the max just to force the Humans to struggle to keep up. Adam didn’t know what they’d do if they broke contact and lost the cloaking effect of the wave disturbance. That would leave them on their own against the invaders.

It would also serve them right, playing their childish games, Adam thought. In a way, the Juireans were a lot like the Nuoreans, just that the Juireans weren’t as self-aware as the creatures from Andromeda. The Nuoreans understood their natural tendencies, and rather than resist, they embraced them, developing an entire civilization built around competition and the domination of others.

Adam smirked. He could substitute Human for Juirean and come to the same conclusion. He would call it Human nature, when in reality it was just nature.

“That’s the Nuorean’s main route through the Radis,” Riyad announced, studying the new contacts on the threat board, thanks to Panur’s expanded view.

“The Spur continues for another five hundred light-years before it thins out,” Coop said. “Another five days or so without breaks and we’re in intergalactic space.”

Coop looked around the small pilothouse, checking for any mutants. Both Panur and J’nae were in the engine room, doing what they could with the TD conversion while the ship was in full drive.

“So that’s the Queen of the Sol-Kor?” he said to Adam in a whisper.

“Former Queen,” Adam said. “And she was only queen for a few months. The original one, the one that had lived for five thousand years and helped create Panur, was a really hideous thing the size of a short bus. She was one of a kind.”

“Hopefully so is this one.”

“Who knows? Panur made J’nae; he could probably make another if he wanted.”

“And he’s the one who made the whole Sol-Kor war possible with his inter-dimensional star drive?”

“Don’t underestimate him. He turned my old starship into a universe-hopping supership in my garage. There’s no telling what he’s capable of.”

“I have no intention of underestimating him. But you guys seem to be friends.”

Adam snorted. “Well…at least he never sold me to the Klin.”

Copernicus smiled. “I made a boatload of credits from that. Of course, I had to give it all to the government, but it was a lot.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“I’ve got an admiral on the line, Adam,” Sherri announced from the comm station. The Belsonian craft used standard continuous-wormhole communications, so they were able to link with the allied forces without fear of being traced.

Riyad took over piloting duties as Adam and Coop moved over next to Sherri. Adam noticed a lingering of eyes between her and Coop, or was it just his imagination? Knowing Sherri, there was a good chance it wasn’t. She was attracted to bad boys.

“He’s Admiral Alan Olsen,” Sherri said.

“He’s my boss…as of a week ago. Head of the Perseus Affiliation, all the area on the Juirean side of the galaxy. Until recently we didn’t have very many units in the Expansion, so his job was mainly to oversee our intelligence operations in the area.”

Adam nodded and flicked the comm switch. And image of a balding man about sixty came on the screen, wearing the look of an artificial tan courtesy of shipboard tanning machines. “Admiral Olsen, this is Adam Cain.”

“I recognize you, Captain. Ms. Valentine says you’ve met up with one of my agents, Copernicus Smith.”

Coop shifted over until he was visible in the shot as well. “Admiral.”

“I see you’re not so covert any longer.”

“Sir, Captain Cain and I go back a ways.”

“I’ve heard.”

Those two words spoke volumes.

“Admiral, from what Captain Cain has told me, I can give you the location of the main Nuorean concentration in the Spur. It’s in the Glisena star cluster on a planet called Ankaa. I’ve had some dealings in the area. It’s a navigational nightmare getting in and out. And they just brought in another two thousand ships. Cain and his people managed to take out the Nuorean leader and one of the three-mile-long carriers while making their escape, but that barely scratches the surface.”

“I appreciate the information, Mr. Smith, but we’re a little beyond that.” The gray look on the Admiral’s face worried Adam. “We convinced the Juireans to blockade the Spur with a combined force of five thousand ships, for what good it did. The Nuoreans blasted right through two days ago, and since then have sent over seven thousand ships into the main part of the galaxy. Besides the two thousand you mentioned, additional reinforcements have continued unabated. We’ve managed to capture more prisoners from the various engagements we’ve had and the rank-and-file crewmembers don’t seem to have any reservations about spilling their guts. They’re pretty blatant about what they have planned for the Milky Way.”

“Sir, we’re monitoring a stream of invaders at least eight hundred strong moving your way. In fact, it looks like rush hour on the 405 in L.A.” Adam reported.

“Captain, if you do nothing else while you’re on site you have to find their point of entry. Until we shut off the tap, they’ll just keep pushing us farther away. I’d send everything we’ve got at the location, if we had a target. Without them bringing in more reinforcements, we might have a chance. As it is, within a month we could lose Formil and Juir.”

“That’s what we’re looking for, Admiral. The Spur peters out in about five hundred light-years, and this traffic jam is going in only one direction. All we have to do is follow the flow the other direction. It can’t be more that another four or five days.”

“That’s cutting it close. A month from now I don’t think we’d have enough units to reach it, not having to fight a six thousand light-year-long gauntlet from Formil to the end of the Spur.”

“We’ll see what we can do from this end. And I don’t know if Sherri told you, but we do have an ace up our sleeve—Panur.”

“Excuse me, Captain, but did you say Panur?”

“Yessir.”

“The mutant who helped the Sol-Kor?”

“He’s on our side now.”

The Admiral stared at the three people on his screen. “Has it occurred to you that he may be helping the Nuoreans this time around? After all, how did they get here from Andromeda? Sounds like something right up his alley.”

“It’s not like that, Admiral,” Sherri assured him. “He’s the one who killed the Nuorean leader and helped rescue Adam. And if anyone can figure a way of keeping the invaders out of the Milky Way, it would be him.”

“Fleet Command is going to go ballistic when they hear about this.”

“Sir, tell them we wouldn’t be this far along without him.”

“Is he fishing for some kind of governmental pardon for all the other crap he’s pulled?”

Adam laughed—a little. “I don’t think he needs one, sir, with all due respect.”

Olsen shook his head. “You’re on site, Captain—along with Mr. Smith; you call the shots. Just find that entry point. We have to turn the tide…somehow.”

“Yessir,” Adam and Coop said in unison.

* * *

“Adam, your Juirean friends have pulled farther ahead,” said Panur four days later. “J’nae and I are at the end of what we can do while under drive, and the engines are being stressed beyond necessity. Please have them slow down. The farther they get from the wave disturbance, the easier it will be for them to be noticed.”

“I’ll talk to them.” Most of the crew was in the landing bay of the D-4—including Manny, Pierre and Billy—working on the new flash weapons being welded onto the hull of the Fracker. It was a fast little ship, and if anything happened, it could be their lifeboat—a lifeboat with a punch, with the cannon installed.

It turns out Pierre’s cargo ship had been a D-4, so he and his men were a real help in keeping the junkyard ship running.

Sherri and Coop were inside the Fracker, having spent a lot of time together over the last few days. Adam could see the writing on the wall, and although he and Coop were getting along better, it was the fact that both men were alpha males to the nth-degree that had Adam spending more time thinking about the relationship than he had a right to. Besides…it was Copernicus Smith—the bastard.

“A situation has developed,” Trimen announced over the shipboard comm system. He was at the controls as the others worked on the Fracker. As the acknowledged master of understatement, the Formilian’s pronouncement could range from him developing a hangnail…to half the galaxy just exploded. The crew was in a mad rush to the bridge a heartbeat later.

It was the friggin Juireans. As predicted, they’d pulled too far ahead to be shielded by the wave disturbance from the D-4. A squad of Nuoreans was now locked onto the ship and in pursuit. The G-8 was fast, but the alien ships were just as fast, if not faster.

Another survey of the expanded scan area ahead showed they were coming up on a long cluster of Nuorean ships. This was different from the other formations they’d seen, which were all heading inward, toward the main part of the galaxy. These were on station.

Coop took over the controls and slowed the D-4. They were still shielded by the wave, but it wasn’t looking good for the Juireans. They’d steered the G-8 in a relative-up position, attempting to climb over the wall of alien craft. There were fewer Nuorean ships on the other side of the line, but they still had the five-ship squadron in pursuit. The G-8 cleared the main line and entered an area of empty space.

That’s when another squad of Nuoreans came in from the other direction, crossing the void on full power. The Juireans steered right, heading toward the outer edge of the Radis Spur.

“We’ve got to help them,” Sherri said.

“Why?” Panur asked. “They’re Juireans, your mortal enemy.”

“We have no enemies, except the Nuoreans.”

“A very noble yet naïve statement.”

Flash bolts shot out from the Nuorean ships, including their electrical-override balls. The G-8 was hit, but kept going. The aliens hesitated only a second before unleashing another round of plasma bolts, with word having circulated back that the allies had discovered how to protect against their overload bombs.

The ship was hit again, enough to knock out the shields and the engines. Another bolt would do it.

Then in a blaze of deep gravity-wells, the Nuoreans retreated, and not just ceasing their attack, but turning and bolting away on full drive.

“Safnos to Adam Cain,” a voice said over the comm.

Adam opened the link with the Overlord; his image appeared on the forward screen. There was lingering smoke in the pilothouse, but he could see all four of the Juireans in the shot. They appeared to be okay.

“What’s your status?”

“Engines are out, only chemical maneuvering. Life-support is functional at this time, yet we have lost atmosphere through several hull breaches. We are in the pilothouse, with limited air.”

“I can take the Fracker over and get them,” Coop offered. “It’s a lot faster than the Nuorean ships—and we do have some firepower.”

“That will let the Nuoreans know there are other units in the area,” Trimen said.

“They already suspect that,” Riyad said. He was looking at the area scan. It looked as if they’d disturbed a nest of fire ants.

“If you think you can get in and out.”

“The Nuoreans left them,” Coop said. “That seems to be their modus operandi. Let them suffocate rather than waste flash bolts making the kill.”

“All right, go.”

“I’ll go with him,” Sherri announced. “The Juireans may need medical care, and I’m the only one aboard with any training.”

“Both Panur and I are much more proficient than are you,” J’nae countered.

“I meant among normal people.”

“I don’t know, Sherri….” Adam said.

“I’ll be fine. We’re not going out to fight, just rescue.”

“I’ve heard that before. Be careful.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and then she and Coop rushed from the bridge. Riyad took over the controls of the D-4.

“She’ll be fine,” Riyad said.

Adam nodded.

* * *

Three minutes later the Fracker burst from the landing bay and raced away from the D-4. It steered in the opposite direction from the Juireans to set a deceptive track before looping back over and bolting into the vast void between the lines of alien ships.

Adam thought it strange that no Nuoreans took up pursuit as they zipped over their positions. The Fracker now had a clear shot at the G-8.

Panur was huddled over the threat board, watching for any approaching craft. There were dozens of Nuoreans scurrying about the area. But then he noticed something. He sent the image to the main screen.

“Do you notice anything odd about this image?”

Everyone studied the screen.

“All their units are outside that void area, including all the ones looking for us,” Trimen offered.

“Yes, and look what happens when I project out even more.”

The image changed to a four-times zoom out. Now the pattern became obvious. It was a long funnel of open space, boarded by hundreds of Nuorean craft.

“Why are they avoiding that area?” Riyad asked.

“Because…that is their entry point into the galaxy,” J’nae stated without emotion.

Adam dove for the comm station. “Sherri, get the hell out of there! Reverse course!”

“No one’s following us—”

“You’re in the middle of the entry point. That’s why no one’s chasing you.”

“And I would make haste,” Panur said. “The other Nuoreans left in a hurry. They must be preparing for an event.”

“Got it; we’re on our way back.”

Adam breathed a sigh of relief when saw the small ship loop around and bolt for the edge of the void. Then an odd thing happened. All the Nuorean ships along the line fired up their gravity drives. But they weren’t pointed into the void, but away from it.

The D-4 was hit by an invisible wave of energy. It wasn’t electrical, but gravitational. The entire sector was experiencing erratic gravity tides and eddies, but nowhere was it more prominent than within the void area. The G-8 was moving, but not by its own power. It was gaining velocity, heading away from the galaxy. Sherri and Coop had their powerful little ship also in a full gravity-well. They were making progress reaching the outer rim of the void, but slowing at the same time.

“They’re losing the well,” Riyad yelled. “Compensators are overloading.”

He had also fired up the generators in the D-4, turning the ship away from the void. They were far enough away that the effects were noticeable but not overpowering. That wasn’t the case for the Fracker.

“Sherri, get out of there!” Adam screamed into the comm.

“We’re trying! Losing the battle. The well just evap—”

The gravity signature of the Fracker disappeared; a moment later the tiny ship was drawn farther into the void.

It was as if all of space suddenly opened up, and what remained was a gigantic hole, half a light-year across where nothing was visible within or beyond the dark orb. The Juirean ship stretched out through the center of the hole, followed a moment later by the Fracker, leaving the void empty, yet surrounded by lines of alien craft, all on full gravity drive, yet going nowhere.

The effect only lasted ten seconds—maybe less. Then the Nuoreans shut down their drives.

Riyad did so as well, as the D-4 began to surge away from the void. He spun the ship around and began to close on the line of alien ships.

“They’re gone, Riyad,” Panur said. “Yet you should prepare for—”

There was a flash, not overpowering but covering a vast area all the way to the far side of the void. When the scene cleared, a fleet of Nuorean ships were moving in the void, hundreds of them and all on chemical drive, bunched too close together for gravity-wells. The ships began to spread out, creating space between the units. Once they were adequately spaced, the lead units engaged their wells and bolted away, in the direction of the Milky Way.

“We appear to have seen the entry point in action. Fascinating,” Panur said.

Chapter 17

“We have to go after them.” Adam paced the bridge, squeezing his fists together in fits of anger and frustration. He let her go, and right into the jaws of the beast.

Riyad had stationed the D-4 about a light-year from the void—it was a void again with nothing moving within—with the ship on minimal energy output to mask their location. The situation had to be analyzed before a plan could be formulated. Fortunately, they had two of the greatest geniuses in existence aboard to help.

“Following them would be ill-advised,” J’nae said.

“Are they still alive?” Riyad asked. Adam had refused to bring voice to that particular fear.

“Surely,” the mutant answered. “This is a two-way transit tube. The Nuorean units appeared at this end, just as the Juireans and the others arrived at the other.”

“In the Andromeda galaxy, two-and-a-half million light-years away? An amazing feat,” Trimen said. He sounded in awe.

“Dammit, Trimen, we’re talking about Sherri!”

“Forgive me, Adam. I’m sorry.”

“Can’t they just pop back over again?” Riyad asked.

“Possibly, during the next opening,” J’nae said.

“So it’s not open all the time?”

“No. A gravity-well that large would require several days for the generators to recharge after a linking. As posited before, it must be elongated.” She looked to Panur for confirmation.

“That’s the only way they could control it.”

“What are you talking about?” Adam asked, frustrated by all the talk and no action.

Panur was sitting at a console. He began to type on the keypad and a graphic image appeared on the main viewscreen. He placed a large dot at the center, with moving lines pointing in, toward the ball. “A standard black hole draws in space from all directions equally, yet with our standard drives we create a stretching effect by moving the singularity. This allows for the focusing effect of the well to forward and reverse directions. The generator—which is connected to the starship—is drawn toward a central point before the well dissolves and another is created farther along this line. Yet that is only one of the effects of the gravity drive.”

“We all know how they work, Panur,” Adam said, again displaying his frustration.

“Bear with me, my friend. As I was saying, the added effect is the compression and then subsequent release of space as each singularity is created and then destroyed. This is where the true movement is generated, as space is first drawn in and then springs back to normal.

“The Nuoreans have found a way to elongate a series of stationery black holes, creating the same compression and release yet without movement of the generators. This has allowed them to focus the gravity beams. And because the effect is limited to only two directions, the generators and containment facilities can be of enormous size and in close proximity to the singularity, allowing for truly large effects to be created. It is quite amazing—and a major feat of engineering.”

“So they’ve built a gravity generator capable of drawing in space over a distance of two-point-five million light-years?” Riyad’s mouth hung slack.

“More-or-less, whatever was required for them to link galaxies.”

“And when they link up again, Sherri and Coop can come back through?” Adam asked.

“Theoretically, assuming they are allowed to remain at the focal point during the recharge period,” Panur answered.

“But that is highly unlikely,” J’nae said, spoiling the moment. “The Nuoreans are staging vast fleets for each jump at the other end. Two small ships arriving unannounced would be immediate sequestered, if not destroyed.”

“Now J’nae, what have I told you about the sensibilities of Humans?”

“That I must take them into consideration before stating facts.”

“Exactly.”

“Forgive me,” the mutant said to Adam.

But the damage was already done. Adam stopped his pacing and sat down. Sherri was…gone. Blood rushed to his face. “We have to destroy the generators,” he whispered, “and stop these bastards from sending any more ships through.”

“That would be nearly impossible,” Panur stated.

Adam looked up and glared at the little gray mutant. “Impossible…even for you? I didn’t think anything was impossible for Panur the Great!”

“Not for me, but for you. For me there would be a good chance of success, but then such an undertaking would be a one way trip.”

“What do you mean?”

Panur referred back to his drawing on the screen. He created two spiral galaxies, with the ball he’d drawn earlier in the center between the two objects. He made the ball stretch, creating the elongated singularity.

“To build a generator complex capable of linking the galaxies it would have be located midway between the two locations. If we round the distance to three million light-years that would place the generators one-and-a-half million light-years from Andromeda.” The mutant shook his head. “Even I could not construct a modified gravity drive capable of covering that distance in less than two years. By standard gravity drive, it would take approximately twenty-five years. So the only way the Nuoreans could have reached that far into space would have been through steps.” He placed another elongated black hole halfway between the main generator and Andromeda, then another halfway from that point to the galaxy. “They would go out and construct a generator. This would allow them to double that distance and build another. Then so forth until they reached the midpoint where the galaxies could be linked.”

Riyad pointed his finger at the graphic and drew an imaginary series of lines in the air, pointing at the screen. “So to reach the generator, we would have to go through the main one all the way to Andromeda, then hook up with the one that takes us halfway out to the big boy.”

“And if the main generator is destroyed, the only avenue for escape would be back through the second link...but to Andromeda, not our galaxy,” Trimen concluded. “With the destruction of the midpoint generator there would be no returning. Whoever made the journey would remain in Andromeda for the rest of their lives—if they survive the mission.”

“And the Nuoreans could rebuild the main generator, and any other subsequent generators that are destroyed,” Panur pointed out. “But that would take many years.”

All the energy and willpower Adam once had was gone. He sat dejected in the seat, devoid of ideas. “So they can’t be stopped, not really,” he said. “Even if a team managed to get all the way to the main generator and set charges, the bombs would have to stay hidden for who knows how long, until the team could make it all the way back here before blowing up the generator. That would be the only way.”

“As I mentioned, it would be a one-way mission, certainly for a Human. For J’nae and me, we would survive, yet where we would end up is the question.”

“If we were even willing to take on such a mission,” J’nae added. Adam expected nothing less from the Sol-Kor mutant; selfish to the end.

“Of course…” Panur began. “There could be a way of plugging the link rather than breaking it completely.”

Adam’s chin was in his chest; now he raised it and stared at the mutant.

“How?”

“That I’m still working on.”

“Dammit, Panur!”

“Please Adam, even I take time to work through problems. Yet if the link can’t be broken in a workable fashion, then it must be blocked. Since there are two ends—and we know where this one lies—it’s only logical that it can be plugged…or contaminated.”

“Explain!”

“We saw how the compression link is two-way. Anything on this end is automatically sent to the other side when it’s opened. What if we make it so that the Nuoreans themselves will close down the link to prevent whatever we place at this end from making it through to theirs?”

“Bombs—nukes?” Riyad offered.

“That is a possibility, yet they could match us, clearing the space on this side with nuclear fire of their own. And they still control the timing of the links. There is some warning, but not much.”

“And this end is guarded by the Nuoreans,” Trimen pointed out.

Adam waved his hand. “I’m not worried about that. If we come up with a plan—and slow the arrival of reinforcements—we could place ten thousand allied ships around this area.”

“Panur, have you considered a realignment?” J’nae asked.

“What does that mean,” Riyad asked.

Panur looked around the room. “It means that with a slight shift of the main generator, the Nuoreans could change the entry point in the Milky Way.”

There was a long silence in the room, as it appeared they were once again at square one. Even the mutants weren’t offering a solution. Sure, it was possible they could mess up the works—for a while. But then the aliens would just move the entry point to another region and start flooding it with warships again.

“The main generator has to be knocked out,” Adam concluded. “I’ll go. If I have to sacrifice my life, it might as well be saving the galaxy.”

“I’ve heard you say that before,” Riyad said. “And if you go, I go.”

“Please my friends, don’t be in such a hurry to throw your lives away.” Panur had a thin smile on his smooth, gray face. “We can still block this entry point. That will give us time to develop a more long-term plan.”

“You have something in mind?” Adam asked.

“I always do.”

Chapter 18

It happened in a flash, and when it faded they detected the G-8 about two million miles away, and the only contact for half a light-year in any direction. But what made Sherri’s blood freeze was the fact that there was almost a solid wall of contacts beyond the border of the void—and many more than had been there before.

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” she whispered.

Copernicus was busy at the pilot’s station. “We have well-integrity back,” he announced. “I think I know what happened. I’m heading back through.”

He cranked the generators up to full and bolted into space away from the glowing mass of stars to the rear. He also promptly forgot about the Juireans. They would have to fend for themselves.

It was clear sailing ahead, without a single ship for as far as they could detect in front of them. There were also no accompanying flash or weird gravity effects. They were simply racing through space, empty space.

It didn’t take an alien mutant genius to figure out what had happened. Sherri placed a wide angle view to the rear of ship on the main screen. It’s hard to discern the shape of a galaxy this close to one, but the incredible blaze of stars on the screen was much more than that of the Milky Way.

It was the Andromeda Galaxy in their rear view mirror, and it wasn’t getting any smaller. They had made a two-and-a-half million light-year jump in a flash—literally—and were now bolting through the open channel between galaxies. At their current speed—and without the assistance of the gravity link created by the Nuoreans—the Milky Way was only about sixty years away.

Even as this reality hit, Copernicus didn’t cut the engines. There was still a massive fleet of enemy ships to the rear. Their only hope of survival was to get as far away as they could before doubling back. After that, the only way to return home would be hitch a ride with a surge of Nuorean ships heading for the Milky Way. That or find a quiet, out of the way world to settle down on and live out the rest of their lives as Andromedaeans, or whatever they call themselves here.

“Looks like our reprieve didn’t last long,” Sherri declared from her nav board. “They’re coming, and right up the pike after us.”

“It must take time to recharge the generators required to open the wormhole. They know it’s safe to enter the channel.”

“But like before, when they run, we need to run too. I think that if we’re not at the launch point, it could be very dangerous sitting in the line of fire.”

“How many are coming?”

“It looks like all of them,” Sherri answered. “The signal’s too strong to make out individual units. I’ve never been this popular since I got drunk after that high school football game.”

Coop turned to her and snickered. “That was you?”

“Funny. What now?”

“I say our first priority is not to get killed.”

“Damn, Coop, you’re a genius. I hadn’t thought of that.” Then she turned serious. “We have to get sucked back into the Milky Way. For that to happen we have to be in the right place at the right time.”

“That’s never been my strong suit,” Copernicus pouted.

“Have faith, sweetheart. We just need to shake the pursuit and then come up with that miracle plan heroes are known to pull out of their asses.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Cain too long. Sometimes things are just a shitty as they seem.”

Sherri checked the screen again. Luckily, all the pursuit was behind them. She placed a hand on Coop’s shoulder. “If there is one thing I’ve learned from Adam Cain, it’s that surrender is not always the last resort. In some cases it can be an advantage.”

Copernicus nodded. She had a point—maybe. But it sure beat getting blown to atoms two-and-a-half million light-years from home. He cut the engines.

* * *

“I have to get back to friendly forces,” Panur stated.

“What do you have in mind?” Adam demanded. “We don’t have much time.”

“That’s why we need to get back. I can’t do what I want to do without resources. And you only have nineteen days left before I leave to search for Lila.”

“You’re still holding to the thirty-day deadline?”

“Of course. Although I would hate to see your galaxy taken over by the Nuoreans, my true interest is in Lila. You knew this all along.”

“You are one cold-hearted sonofabitch.”

“Yes…and I feel really bad about that. But that’s reality, Adam. Now, Mister Tarazi, how fast can you get us back to your lines?”

“That depends? Do you finish your engine modifications first, or do we go on conventional drive?”

Panur smiled. “I am quite impressed. You have brought up a very good point. Since we are cloaked effectively, J’nae and I can complete the work in twelve hours, fifty-six minutes…approximately. Once completed, the increased capabilities of the drive will easily compensate for the delay in leaving. Very good.”

“I’m glad you’re impressed,” Adam barked. “What’s so important that we leave the area without doing—anything?”

“Do you recall how we first met?”

“Yeah, you were the head genius for the fucking—excuse me J’nae—Sol-Kor.”

“And how were the Sol-Kor so successful against your forces?”

“The suppressor beam!” Riyad called out.

“Precisely. I propose to build two platform projectors—the kind we used against planets—and position them across the entry point. When a fleet arrives, we simply negate the crews and then have your ships destroy the enemy vessels. It might even be impressive to let the massive debris field be sent back to the Nuoreans a few days later. At that point they may reconsider their plans to invade the Milky Way.”

“Will the beams work on the Nuoreans?” Adam asked.

“It’s designed to work on any being with upper intelligence, as witnessed by the variety of planets we were able to harvest. It will work on the Nuoreans.”

Adam was silent, staring at the tiny mutant. He had to admit, it was a great idea. Nearly all Union and Expansion warships still carried the counter-suppressors, so they wouldn’t be affected by the reintroduction of the technology to the galaxy. But to the Nuoreans, it would be a whole other ballgame. He liked the idea, but it would take time to implement.

“How long would it take to build the platforms, as well as give some of our ships projection capabilities so we can place them?”

“That would depend on the sincerity of the effort, but assuming an all-out campaign, three months at the most.”

“Will you stick around to see the completion?”

“No…but I will provide the plans.”

“Hate to rain on your parade,” Riyad began, “but the Nuoreans have only been in the galaxy for about a month, and look what they’ve already done. What will it be like in another three if they’re allowed to come in unabated until the platforms are built and deployed? From what that admiral said, Formil and Juir could fall by then, along with all the manufacturing worlds from here to Sandis IV. Who’s going to build the platforms when half the galaxy is under Nuorean control? And one last thing: Just as we learned to make counters to the suppressor beam, so will the Nuoreans. You can count on it. So this will only be a temporary fix, even if we do manage to finish the job before we’re overrun. The bottom line…the midpoint generators still have to be destroyed at some point.”

“You are a fountain of intellect and deductive reasoning this day, my friend Riyad,” said Panur, beaming.

“Knock it off!” Adam commanded. “He’s right, unfortunately about everything. So something has to be done now to at least temporarily slow them down. Now think, all you geniuses—Riyad included. You’re not getting paid to sit around looking pretty.”

Panur turned to J’nae and smiled. “Well…looks like our friend Adam has just defined our current mission. Yessir, Captain Cain, sir. We will now commence to…think.”

* * *

While ‘thinking’ the two mutants went to work completing the modifications to the D-4’s gravity drive; apparently they could do more than one thing at a time. When the job was done, Panur announced he had a plan.

“I will need access to one of the Nuorean ships in the line.”

“What do you mean access?” Adam asked.

“I mean someone will have to place a small device I will construct aboard the vessel, in a specific place and manner and linked to their command circuits.”

“Why, what are you planning to do?”

Panur assumed his best professorial persona—absent the reading glasses he would be looking over. “We wish to prevent the Nuoreans from entering the galaxy, while also giving them pause before resuming their activities. The easiest and quickest way to make an impression would be to send a cluster of powerful bombs through the link. It would have to be powerful enough to affect the area we’re talking about. Yet we have no explosives, and I cannot manufacture anything large enough with what I have aboard the ship.” He smiled, readying the punchline. “So I propose we use the border ships as our weapon.”

“How exactly are we going to do that?” Riyad asked.

“Through a device I will build, I will be able to temporarily override the local control of their gravity drives, or at least all the ships within range before the Nuoreans resume control. It won’t be long, but it should be long enough.”

“Long enough for what?” It was Trimen’s turn to ask a question.

“To send a hundred or more Nuorean ships crashing into the fleet as it appears at the gate, causing a spectacular chain reaction among the tightly packed starships within seconds of their arrival in the galaxy.”

“You can do that?”

“Like I said, I will only have control for a few seconds. Their engines will already be engaged, having just fired up to avoid being sucked back to Andromeda. When the gravity affects are reversed and the fleet arrives, I will activate back-wells for every ship I can link with in the brief time I have. Not all of the incoming fleet will be destroyed, but a majority. It will disrupt their operations and make them more cautious when entering in the future.”

“Won’t they simply shift locations?” Riyad asked.

“That is a possibility. Yet if your technicians can build the beam platforms, then they will be ready for deployment the moment a new entry point is identified. With the initial success of suppressor technology on unsuspecting forces, your ships should be able to reach the point without too much resistance and deploy the weapon.”

“But this device you’re going to build needs to be placed aboard one of the Nuorean ships bordering the void?” Adam didn’t like the sound of the words coming from his mouth. They sounded too much like a mission impossible. He also knew who was often called upon for such missions.

“We can drift in close in dark status, then you simply jet over in spacesuits.”

Adam nodded and pursed his lips. “Yeah…a piece of cake. We do it all the time.”

Riyad spoke up. “I assume you and J’nae will have other things to do at the time, leaving the job up to me and Adam?”

“You could send your Humans friends from Ankaa, but I assume you prefer to save the truly heroic missions for you and Adam,” said Panur. The other three men were on the bridge as well, but none seemed anxious to volunteer. Now Panur stretched out a wide grin. “It will be fun…and you get to fly around like your Buck Rogers.”

Riyad shook his head. “Even Buck Rogers didn’t fly around like Buck Rogers. That was all done with wires. This is the real thing.”

Chapter 19

The problem with trying to conquer a distant galaxy was that information only came through every few days and in condensed packets of data that required translation and assimilation in real time.

As a result, the Nuoreans pursuing the Fracker had no idea who or what they had when Copernicus surrendered. The top brass knew, but only after a lot of research.

“You have been identified as Humans,” said the light brown-skinned alien officer. Sherri actually envied his perpetual tan. It was just the right shade to accent her blond hair. “Humans have been placed at the top of the challenge ladder by Game-Master Daric. As testimony to this, we have reports from two links ago indicating that the Game-Master lost an immunity challenge to a Human, and in a most spectacular fashion. Are you a player or a tech?” he asked Coop.

“That depends,” the Human said. “I suppose I’d be player, unless I’m a tech which would make me not a player, unless I’m player-tech…or a tech-player. But now I’m just being technical.”

His statement had the desired effect. The two Nuoreans in the holding cell with him and Sherri looked at each other, confused. “I am not aware of such classifications. Are you speaking of Kac designations or Nuorean?”

“Yes.”

This really threw them for a loop. Finally, the leader shook his head. “It matters not. Your ship was present at the time of the link. How many more of your forces are at the other side? No data came through at that time regarding any such contamination of the entry point. Another jump is coming in fourteen hours. We need to know what to expect.”

“I can help,” Sherri volunteered. The aliens leaned a little closer. “Expect…the unexpected.”

The Nuorean officer began to gnash his teeth and breathe heavily through his nose. “You Humans are a confusing species. You do not communicate properly, speaking in gibberish.”

“It’s our native language.”

“As observed!” the lead alien said, turning to his associate.

The other alien spoke. “We recovered the occupants of the disabled vessel. There was evidence of battle damage to the ship. Did our forces inflict such damage? Those aboard are refusing to speak.”

Copernicus cocked his head. “I wish I could help you—no, wait…I don’t. Never mind.”

“Enough!” roared the leader. “I will have you sent before the Qualifying-Masters for disposition. With your current ranking within the Kac, they may decide to arrange challenges for you on Nuor rather than seek information. Your being here is an anomaly, that is all. I refuse to concern myself with you any longer.” The pair turned to leave the cell.

“You better be careful,” Sherri said. The aliens stopped to look at her, questions on their faces. “Look what happened the last time a Nuorean fought a Human. It wasn’t pretty.”

Once alone, Copernicus and Sherri burst out with laughter. It was almost too easy. They laughed, not only from the humor of the interaction, but from relief. The plan to surrender had worked, at least for the moment. They were alive and to be sent before something called a Qualifying-Master. It gave them time to work on a longer-term plan.

And the Juireans were alive too. Perhaps they would be reunited, making it six beings from the Milky Way against all of the Andromeda Galaxy. Hell, it hardly seemed fair.

After the moment passed, they sobered up quickly. They had watched from the Fracker as they were taken aboard one of the three-mile long battle-carriers. If the huge vessel was part of the fleet assembling for the jump to the Milky Way, then they would be moved to another ship before being transported to the planet Nuor. After all, they were VIP’s—Very Important Players—in the eyes of the Nuoreans. The aliens liked a good challenge, even in light of what Panur/Adam had done to their leader in the other galaxy. If it came down to Copernicus—and possibly Sherri—being challenged, it was a fair bet the aliens would come better prepared this time.

But Daric had fought an immortal mutant alien, not a Human being. That could prove problematic for Copernicus. The Nuoreans would be expecting a lot more from him than they would get.

What the pair needed was to get aboard—or stay aboard—one of the ships heading back into the Milky Way. Another caravan was leaving in fourteen hours; how long an hour was to the Nuoreans was anyone’s guess. But no matter what, if they wanted to make this train, they had to think of something soon.

* * *

As expected, the prisoners were soon taken from their cell and escorted to one of the massive landing bays of the battle-carrier. A small spacecraft was being readied, and apparently in a hurry. Nuoreans scurried about doing whatever it took to make the ship space-ready.

The lead officer from before met them at the ship, along with another Nuorean wearing a light-colored green uniform and carrying a datapad.

“The larger creatures from the Kac are already aboard,” the officer announced. He turned to the other alien. “Be especially careful of these two, pilot. They are extremely dangerous.”

The pilot nodded to the four-person guard detail and the two Humans were moved aboard. Sherri glanced back and heard the officer speaking to the pilot. “Depart soon. We must return to the jump point immediately. You will receive resupply at Banocan.”

Moments later the pilot entered the ship and buttoned it up. The interior was cramped, with the Overlord Safnos and his three Juirean Guards pressed back in a corner, with two Nuoreans holding flash weapons on them. Sherri and Copernicus were being watched by four of the aliens, while the pilot/captain checked his datapad.

Another Nuorean came down a narrow corridor. The captain turned to him. “Our departure is hasty, but make secure accommodations as best you can. We have fuel enough to reach the Boundary, where we will restock. We launch in two minutes.”

The second-in-command turned to the crowded room. He looked exasperated. “Place the prisoners in the right side crew quarters. We will make accommodation for ourselves out here.”

“We will not be quartered with the filthy Humans!” the Juirean Overlord Safnos roared, causing the guards to tighten their grips on their weapons. He continued. “Place us in the cold of space before we will sleep with these beasts.”

Copernicus was the closest to the huge Juirean, so it was he who caught the full brunt of Safnos’s fist. Caught off guard and shocked, Coop fell against a bulkhead and grasped his jaw, more angry than hurt. But then he caught the glimmer in Sherri’s eye…and a moment later collapsed to the deck unconscious.

The captain reappeared, looking frustrated and frazzled at the disturbance. “There will be no more such outbursts! Place the green creatures in the berthing quarters, the female Human in food storage.”

“What of this other one?” asked his second-in-command.

“Is he dead?”

The alien bent down and felt his chest. “No.”

“Then place him in medical holding until he recovers. Place a guard with him.”

The pilot rushed down the corridor and a few seconds later the generators were heard cycling up, even as magnetic lines lifted the small craft and flung it out the back of the battle-carrier. Two minutes later Sherri sensed the ship move as it entered a gravity-well for the return to Andromeda.

* * *

Copernicus opened a slit in one of his eyes. He was on a table with a thin pad under him and a pillow supporting his head. The room was bright and lined with glass cabinets containing medical supplies. Earlier he’d felt hot breath on his face, and then convinced that his charge would be unconscious a while longer, the alien guard slipped out of the room, ostensibly for only a moment. Now the room was empty.

Coop hurried off the table before opening draws and cabinets looking for any kind of weapon he could find, a scalpel or even a metal bedpan he could whack the guard with. He found an electronic sensor about eight inches long and made of heavy metal. It was something.

He climbed back on the table.

The door opened and the guard re-entered. Coop heard him place something on a counter before coming to check on his patient. With his face on inches away, Copernicus opened his eyes wide, startling the alien. Before he could draw away, the sensor smashed into his head, delivered by Coop’s right hand. The Nuorean knelt to his knees, down, but not out.

The Human jumped from the table and grabbed the alien around the neck from behind. An application of pressure, accompanied by a quick twist to the left, and the Nuorean’s neck snapped.

The guard had a flash weapon, which Copernicus promptly confiscated. He went to the door of the small sickbay. If he was right, there were six guards and two crew aboard; make that five guards now. The Juireans were locked in the berthing quarters, presumably without guards in the room. That put seven deadly Nuoreans wandering the ship, with the majority armed against the prisoners. If he was to have any chance of taking them out, he would need help.

The starship was about ninety feet long with all critical systems on one level and along a central corridor. As he was being carried to sickbay, he’d watched the Juireans being herded aft. The last thing he saw they were being placed in a room on the right about twenty feet away.

Like most doors in spaceships, they were pocket doors and operated electronically, making them very difficult to open only a crack. It was either all or nothing. He readied himself…and triggered the door release.

Empty. The corridor was empty. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you recovered?” asked a voice to his right. He leaned out into the passageway, holding the flash weapon behind his back.

Four of the guards sat in a small alcove, initially hidden from view from the sickbay door.

Coop smiled and wobbled his head. “I believe so, although still shaky. It was not fair to be hit without notice by the ugly green beast.”

The Nuoreans laughed. “Yes, that is a violation of fighting protocol.” The aliens had their weapons in their holsters and appeared relaxed. They had no idea how dangerous a cargo they were carrying.

Coop turned his head left and right, scanning the corridor.

“Where is Lacdis (819)?”

“Oh, him?” Copernicus looked back into the sickbay. “He’s dead.”

Golden eyes blinked at the unexpected reply; however, understanding came when Coop stepped into the corridor and blasted all four of the aliens with the flash weapon. Now Copernicus blinked, temporarily blinded by the incredible light filling the small room.

He ducked back in the sickbay and waited for his vision to clear, while listening for any reaction. When nothing came, he rushed from the room and grabbed two of the weapons from the dead Nuoreans. He hurried to where the Juireans were being held. He tried the controls to the door but nothing happened. It was locked.

He stepped back and placed a bolt into the control panel. It flared and sparked, but still the door stayed closed.

It always works in the movies, Coop thought with frustration.

He began to press against the panel, trying to shove it aside.

“Copernicus?” said a voice from the other side.

“Yeah, give me a hand.”

With effort from both sides, the door moved, not a lot, but enough for strong fingers to grasp the edge and pull. The Juireans squeezed out. Copernicus handed two of the flash weapons to them.

“I hope I did not hurt you,” said Safnos with a thin grin. Juireans seldom smile, and never displaying their teeth—unless they mean it.

“Five of the six guards are down. I don’t know where the sixth is. The crew’s probably in the pilothouse. I fired four shots in the corridor, and no alarms went off, so the door must be closed. Where’s Sherri?”

Safnos shook his head. “We were taken away before her.”

“All right, I’m going to the bridge. The rest of you find Sherri and the other guard.”

On the way forward, Coop took another weapon from the dead guards and stuck it in his waistband. He couldn’t read alien power meters so he had no idea how many more shots he had with the first one.

At the pressure door to the pilothouse, he checked the outer wall for the controls. The panel was on the right. Crossing his fingers that it wasn’t locked, Coop pressed the button.

The door slid open.

Copernicus didn’t have any experience fighting Nuoreans, just shooting them. He was about to get a lesson.

The pilot was at the controls when the door opened, engaged in his duties. His second-in-command, however, was standing near another console, a datapad in his hand. With reactions seldom seen outside those of a Human or Juirean, the alien heaved the pad at him and rushed forward without a moment’s hesitation. Coop triggered the flash weapon, but the alien was too fast. He missed, and now a strong hand was on the weapon and twisting. He released the handgun before his wrist broke, just as he caught a powerful elbow to his chin. Coop dropped to his knees, but fortunately still in the pilothouse. The pressure door slid shut.

Through blurry vision, he saw a knee coming for his face. He raised both arms in time to block it, although the force sent him slamming into the hard metal bulkhead at his back. A quick mental analysis—the best he could conjure up at the time—had him trapped in a room with two expert fighters and with his backup locked outside. He was also dazed and hurt.

He rolled to his right to escape another incoming blow, twisting his left wrist on something when he landed on all fours. The object moved under his hand, and a moment later Coop realized it was the fallen flash weapon.

The alien dropped a sharp elbow into his back, sending Coop falling flat on the cold metal deck. Then a fist bunched up the cloth of this shirt and flipped him over. The expression on the face of the Nuorean was one of euphoria, and now he had his right arm lifted high and about to deliver the knock-out blow to his beaten opponent.

That was until he noticed the flash weapon pressed against his belly.

At this range, a perfectly round hole was burned all the way through the Nuorean, with the energetic bolt exiting the body with enough residual charge to strike the ceiling of the pilothouse and ricochet toward the pilot. He was on his feet by now, having reacted to the fight taking place to his right. He jumped out of the path of the flash bolt, landing about three feet from Copernicus. The pilot was unarmed, but when he noticed the weapon in Coop’s hand, he showed no fear. Instead, he bared his teeth in a savage show of defiance and jumped forward.

Coop fingered the trigger—and nothing happened. He’d drained the weapon’s power pack.

The Nuorean was on top of him, hitting and kicking with insane ferocity. Coop had another flash weapon on him somewhere, but he forgot where. All he was concerned with at the moment was protecting himself from the onslaught to his head and body.

Seeing an opportunity open—yet not knowing Nuorean anatomy—Coop still took the shot, delivering a knee to the alien’s exposed groin. He was rewarded with a squeal and burgeoning golden eyes from his opponent, along with a momentary cessation of hostilities. As with most mammals—be they from the Milky Way or Andromeda—when your balls are crushed, a change of heart quickly follows.

Feeling sympathetic for his fellow male, Copernicus laid a swift fist to the alien’s projecting chin, sending bone fragments into the brain and ending the poor creature’s suffering. He shoved the body to the side and sat up, looking at his victim. “You’re welcome,” he panted. If the roles had been reversed, Coop would have prayed for death as well.

After a brief recovery, he climbed to his feet and unlocked the pilothouse door. Sherri was waiting on the other side, the sixth and final guard nowhere to be found.

A Juirean guard went to the controls. This was one of the smaller vessels with the pad of keys for control, rather than the wheel with buttons underneath. Either way, no one aboard knew how to fly the ship. It was still in a gravity-well, heading for the blaze of star ahead that was the Andromeda Galaxy.

“We have to get to the jump point,” Sherri said, vocalizing the thoughts running through the minds of all the former prisoners.

The Guard in the pilot seat looked up at the Human female. “I will gladly surrender control to one more-experienced.” When Sherri remained silent, the alien grunted and turned back to the key panel. Soon, it became discovery by committee, as everyone was offering their input, with some reaching out and pressing buttons even as others were tried.

Fortunately, the ship was alone in space otherwise its erratic movements would have surely attracted the attention of even the casual observer. Ten minutes later, everyone aboard—and not just the Juirean sitting in the pilot seat—had a working knowledge of the controls.

Now they turned their attention to nav screens and monitors. Sherri let out a sigh of relief when it became obvious they were still in the vicinity of the transit channel between galaxies, in fact not too far from the staging area. That was indicated by the incredible mass of energy sigs, now moving slowly closer together, to form an even more intense signature. The fleet was preparing for a jump.

The Juirean pilot increased the well depth and raced toward the jump point. Moments later they were closing on the back side of the mass of ships, and merging with hundreds of smaller ships, many like theirs. The larger signatures were in the front of the formation.

They eased back as the cluster became denser. Starships usually didn’t move this close to each other, but the Nuoreans only had so much room in the gravity beam. They had to get all the bang for their buck they could.

“It has to be happening soon,” she said to the room. “Otherwise we’ll start running into each other.”

As if on cue, she felt a strange sensation come over her, like waves of nausea. She was dizzy and her ears began to ring. This may have been what she’d experienced before, but now she was more aware.

And then came the flash.

Chapter 20

Close to the mutant Panur meant bringing the D-4 within forty-two miles of the alien craft before sending Adam and Riyad out to fly through space like Buck Rogers. In case anything went wrong, the mutant was so kind as to send them out with additional oxygen tanks which they would leave at the halfway point with a magnetic beacon attached. Otherwise they’d be sucking fumes on the way back if they had to abort.

They chose a Nuorean ship like the one they’d stolen from Ankaa simply for its familiarity to Adam and Riyad. The next nearest ship was four hundred miles away—just the blink of an eye in space distance. After a brief explanation of where and how to install the small device he’d built, the mutant cast them out the airlock and sent them on their way.

Adam had never made a forty-two mile space walk before; he doubted anyone ever had, at least intentionally. Now he and Riyad were flying through the vast emptiness of space on gas jets, awed by the absolute size of the nothingness around them. The stars seemed much brighter from here, their brilliance separated from their eyes by only an eighth-inch-thick piece of glass.

At one point they dropped the extra oxygen packs and continued on their way.

They approached the ship at an angle, rather than straight on. Most starships had a passive laser defense system to protect against micrometeorites and other objects on a collision course with the vessel. They were traveling fast enough at this point to be considered a hazard. As it was, the radar would record them as a non-threat and let them go.

As they neared the craft, they reversed the thrust on their jets and matched speeds with the spaceship. Approaching at a crawl wouldn’t set off any alarms.

They still had a mile to go, but that passed quickly. They contacted the hull and grabbed onto attached lifelines. They were under the influence of the ship’s gravity internals by now and were able to walk on the surface. At the airlock door at the rear of the ship, Riyad looked at Adam, both their faces lit by helmet lights.

“Okay. It was you’re brilliant idea,” said Riyad, having already raised the question back at the D-4. “Go ahead, knock.”

The question had been how to gain access to the ship? Adam’s solution was simple. He took out a metal wrench from his tool pouch and began to tap on the airlock hatch, non-rhythmically, as if something was loose and banging against the hull. The sound would transfer throughout the ship, attracting the attention of the crew. If they were like everyone else, they would want to know what’s happening outside. It could be dangerous.

They would be right in this case, but only when they opened the hatch would they find out how much.

That came four minutes later, after the source of the knocking had been isolated. The hatch cycled open.

Adam and Riyad slipped out of view. A space-suited figure swung the rectangular door open and looked outside. He stayed in the airlock while looking up and down along the hull. Then he checked the outer side of the door. Still nothing. He ducked back inside.

Adam crawled along the hull until he was just above the closing hatch and wedged the wrench into the gap between the door and the opening. When the pressure door failed to close, the frustrated Nuorean pushed it open again and looked up at the obstruction. That’s when Riyad swung in from underneath, using one of the lower lifelines for leverage.

He crashed into the unsuspecting alien, knocking them both to the deck of the airlock. Adam followed a moment later.

He dogged the hatch and the chamber began to pressurize automatically. In the meantime, Riyad had smashed every antenna and electrical contact with the alien’s helmet and his suit, hoping to break communications with the other crew members. Adam knew a ship this size had a crew of four. After Riyad smashed the faceplate of the alien’s helmet with a tool of his own, embedding it the soft tissue of a golden eye, only three were left.

Adam opened the inner door quickly, allowing the two invaders to enter the main part of the ship. They couldn’t risk tripping any alarms and having pressure doors locked down around them.

Now the real mission began. The problem, as Panur outlined, was that the control ship—the one with the radio link—had to stay active until the last second for the plan to work. First, the gravity drive had to be activated to prevent the ship from being pulled into the nearly three-million-light-year-long blackhole. Afterwards, they had to cut the drive as commands were sent to all the ships around it to engage back-wells for the headlong crash into the arriving fleet. The bottom line: The crew had to be eliminated and Adam and Riyad take control. Luckily, this particular ship didn’t need to be one of those crashing into the fleet. After the commands were sent to the other ships, it could be flown back to the D-4.

Normally, killing four aliens was something Adam did before breakfast, but these were scattered throughout the Nuorean ship and he had no idea where. The pair of pirates kept their suits on, yet they now had flash weapons at the ready. They split up, Adam heading forward while Riyad checked the engine room and landing bay.

Since these particular aliens were assigned sentry duty, Adam figured they weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed. He was hoping to find them napping, with feet resting on control consoles, and therefore easy targets. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

The first alien came out of a side room, wearing a modified combat outfit and covered in sweat. He was placing a ressnel sword into a soft, velvet sheath, appearing to be finishing up a training workout. The moment of hesitation upon seeing the surprise guest aboard was measured in milliseconds. The Nuorean had the ressnel out again and was crouched for action. Proving the old adage that you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight, the flash bolt that burned a hole in the alien’s chest eliminated the threat, but it also lit up the interior of the small starship, with its distinctive crack echoing off the bare metal walls.

The security door to the pilothouse began to slide shut. With Nuorean gravity being similar to Juirean standard, Adam had some extra muscle power to use as he kicked off the deck and jumped for the closing door. Bridge portals were a little wider than normal openings on Nuorean ships, allowing more bodies to gain ingress or egress to the most important room on the ship, and Adam nearly made it through before the door closed on him.

Fortunately, it closed on the heavy metal of his boot. It didn’t hurt his foot, but he was caught, lying on the deck, looking into the pilothouse, unable to break free.

There was one crewmember in the room. He sat at the pilot’s station working controls. When he heard the door controls whine, fighting against the blockage to close, he turned to see what was happening—and took a level-two flash bolt to the face.

Adam pulled but still couldn’t free his leg.

“Riyad, splash three. How are you doing?”

“Got a sneaky little one back here. He was in the engine room, but now he’s somewhere in the landing—” There was a grunt and then the sound of heavy breathing.

Adam gave him a few seconds. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but lucky I don’t have to wear this suit back to the D-4. Damn mother-of-a-goat nearly impaled me with a length of welding metal.”

“Get up to the bridge. I need a little help.”

* * *

“Let me get a picture of this first,” Riyad said before reaching through the gap in the door and releasing the safety controls. But before he did, he actually did snap a digital picture using the suit’s built-in helmet cam.

“Better not post that on Facebook.”

“I would, if Facebook still existed. But there’s always YouTube.”

Adam climbed to his feet. “Check and see if any alerts went out while I install Panur’s magic box. We have no idea how long we’re going to be here before the next link. Let’s make sure we can stay incognito for all that time.”

* * *

An hour later Adam contacted Panur through the suit’s comm system. He’d lifted the visor and was breathing fresh Nuorean air. “All right, the gizmo’s installed and we have control of the ship.”

“Excellent. Any problems?”

“Nothing to speak of. You know, the Nuoreans must have some kind of check-in routine for their sentry ships. How long do you think we’ll be here before the galaxies link up again?”

“J’nae and I have been calculating that. Considering the size of the singularities that must be created, plus the stretching effect, along with the size and number of the generators required and their distance to the—”

“How long?”

“It should be anytime now.”

True to his word, the Nuorean ship began to vibrate. Riyad was in the back; now he raced to the bridge.

“Ready the drive!” Adam yelled.

The roiling motion continued, not only in the ship but in their bodies as well. They hadn’t been this close to the event the first time; now they were getting the full effect.

“Are you set to go on your end?” Adam yelled into his helmet comm.

“Yes. The device will send out a blast signal that identifies the control codes for each of the ships in the area. J’nae and I will then manually access each ship and issue the order to activate the drive.”

“Manually? You have to contact over three hundred ships manually?”

“It will take us eight-point-six seconds for the task. We work fast around here.”

“Not bad.”

“Well, we don’t get paid to sit around looking pretty.”

“Touché. Wholly crap, there goes the big suck!”

The Nuoreans had placed a small flotilla of ships at the apex of the void this time; shift rotations and data carriers undoubtedly. Now the ships elongated and disappeared into the huge black disk a light-year away. From their close-in vantage point, the disk was huge, filling the entire sky. Without the countering gravity-well, Adam and Riyad would be on their way to Andromeda—just as Sherri and Copernicus had done.

The effect died down and the other ships around them cut their drives. Any second now and the Nuorean fleet would appear out of the blackness.

The ship jerked violently just as the generators cycled. The back-well was firing up.

“Panur!” Adam yelled through his comm.

“I know…sorry. We had to isolate your code first.”

The well dissolved, but not before the Nuorean ship was already hurdling toward the mass of warships that had just appeared in the void. Riyad activated the forward well and their momentum stopped, but not soon enough to avoid an exploding starship on the port side. Internal inertia compensators were overloaded, allowing Adam and Riyad to be sent slamming into the left side bulkhead. They fell to the deck and were pressed into place by the rapid acceleration. The ship was blown away from the blast, with sections of the hull torn off in sheets. Alarms sounded and lights flashed.

A strong countering force came next, the result of another nearby explosion to starboard. This time the emergency pressure door to the bridge slid shut and locked down, preserving the atmosphere in the small room, even as the rest the ship suffered near-catastrophic failure.

The two Humans fought to climb into chairs and fasten safety harnesses across their bodies. With the damage to the ship, the compensators weren’t only overloaded, they were inoperable. The ship tumbled and rolled, the only thing saving their lives being the wide leather straps that cut into raw skin even through the spacesuits.

More buffeting occurred until the turmoil outside began to subside. Fortunately, the forward viewport was still intact, and through it Adam and Riyad witnessed a terrible, yet wondrous site. There were flashes of light popping up all around as chain reactions of collisions and explosions rippled throughout the Nuorean fleet. As was the habit of the invaders, their behemoths were at the head of the fleet, designed to create a grand entrance, if even for the waiting sentry ships. These vessels took the brunt of the nearly two hundred smaller ships that plowed into them on full back-wells.

Panur’s plan had worked…almost too well.

* * *

By the time their screens cleared from the transit flash, half the fleet was in ruins. Some of the vessels on the edge of the cluster managed to bolt away at oblique angles. Some survived, some didn’t. Yet it was the smaller ships toward the rear of the formation that suffered the least. At least that was the case for some of them.

There were fallen stanchions strewn across the deck and hanging from the overhead. Electrical lines popped and cracked, sending hot sparks to the deck. A moment later internal gravity was lost.

Sherri welcomed the surge in her stomach and throat, which was not unlike the sensation of mounting the summit of a roller coaster and heading down the other side. After the brief period of nausea, she found some relief for the pain she felt in her left leg. Through a red haze of blood entering her eyes, she searched the shattered room for Copernicus. Only a few emergency lights survived, along with the occasional spark from electrical wires and flashes coming through the forward viewport—which by some miracle was still airtight.

“Coop!” she cried out. Silence. “Copernicus!”

“Yeah…I’m over here.”

“I’m stuck, and I think my leg is broken. You’ll have to come to me, if you can.”

“Give me a minute. There’s a lot of live wires all over the place.”

He floated next to her, taking hold of her hand while wiping the blood from her face. “Is it just your leg, or more?”

“I think just the leg.”

Copernicus studied the fallen beam and how it was braced between the ceiling and the deck. Securing himself, he pushed against the ten-foot-long bulkhead brace. The zero gravity allowed it to move, and with a free arm, he pulled Sherri into the air.

Her leg was bleeding and the pant leg torn, but he didn’t see any odd angles or penetrating bone. Those were good signs. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around her leg. She cried out in pain.

After taking several deep breaths, Sherri relaxed. “What happened?”

“Hell if I know. It felt like something hit us, an explosion or another ship.”

They were in the pilothouse of the small supply ship, and when they turned their attention to the exterior viewport, they were shocked to find the space outside filled with tiny flashes for as far as they could see. The frequency of the explosions was tapering off, but it was obvious something big had just happened.

“Are we back?”

“I think so,” Copernicus replied.

He floated to the pressure door of the pilothouse and looked through the tiny viewport. The entire back end of the ship was open to space. Safnos and the rest of the Juireans had been back there. Next, he looked over the flight control panels. They were in ruin.

“I saw the fleet in front of us stretch out and disappear…and then the flash. I’m pretty sure we’re back in the Milky Way.” he said.

“If we’re back, then that means—Adam!”

“Yeah, looks like something he would do, with the help of his mutant sidekick.”

“They couldn’t have known we were with them. We have to let them know. How can we send a signal?”

“I don’t know. We’re pretty broken up.”

“You’re the mechanic—fix it.”

“Spoken like most of the women I’ve known.”

“Well….”

“I’ll call Triple-A for a tow.”

Sherri grimaced when she tried to smile, discovering a deep cut on her lips. “Well…if we have to die, at least we’ll do it in our galaxy.”

* * *

“That damn mutant!” Adam yelled once the ship stabilized.

“The comm’s still open,” came Panur’s voice within his helmet.

“Then I repeat: That damn mutant!”

“I take it you had a little trouble?”

“Who activated the damn drive?”

“That was me,” said J’nae. “I’m not as proficient as Panur and realized too late your command code had been triggered. It was only for a second or two.”

“When it comes to gravity drives, that was long enough.”

“What’s your status?” Panur asked.

“Unknown at this point. We just came out of a spin and the systems are erratic. We still have gravity and some of the screens are active. Give us a minute to do an assessment.”

* * *

Riyad and Adam unfastened their safety harnesses, discovering that even through their spacesuits, they had suffered bruises and burns from the severe buffeting they’d taken. Helmets had protected their heads when they slammed into the portside bulkhead, and other than a few other cuts and strains, they appeared to be okay.

The ship turned out to be halfway functional. Only one generator was working, and at sixty-percent capacity. They’d lost atmosphere to most of the ship, but wearing their suits allowed them to do an adequate survey of the damage. Tapping into one of the rear internal gravity generators would help get the ship up to traveling mode, using only maneuvering wells instead of the deeper light-speed variety.

Adam contacted Panur again.

“Good,” said the mutant when learning the ship could steer its way out of the mess they’d made. “The effect was better than expected.”

“How so?”

“We launched three hundred eighteen ships and two hundred four made it to the fleet. By our estimates, over seventeen hundred Nuorean ships were destroyed out of two thousand ten. The ones that survived are the smaller ones toward the rear of the column.”

“That should get their attention. Can you help us out? Navigation is down and our proximity sensors are offline. We’d be eyeballing if we head out of the debris field on our own.”

“Let me do a scan and find the easiest route. It should be toward the rear of the column, where there’s less debris.”

A moment later he came back on the line. “Okay, steer one-one-five, up six from your location. Go slow. I’ll be feeding you constant updates to avoid debris.”

The battered Nuorean spaceship began to move. As Panur fed Adam directions, Riyad stood at the viewport with a viewing magnifier he’d found on the bridge, and able to survey the path ahead at a thousand times magnification. His mouth hung slack as he took in the incredible damage the telescope brought into focus.

They slipped past five huge warships, busted and sporting gaping holes filled with jagged metal, wires and beams, along with a few frozen bodies orbiting nearby. The operation had been a success, if only for this one time. When the debris field showed up back in the Andromeda galaxy, the Nuoreans would surely suspend future transits, at least until they figured out what happened. Then they would probably shift entry points. But that would take time, hopefully time enough for the allies to build Panur’s suppressor beam platforms.

There were still a few explosions still taking place, but mainly on the periphery of their route. The space ahead had a few derelicts, as all the space-worthy vessels had scattered to places unknown. That was why the flashes Riyad noticed along their path seemed so…odd. They weren’t sporadic, but pulsed with a pattern that repeated. He tried to think what would cause such a system of timed pulses on a damaged or destroyed warship, but was at a loss.

Unless they were artificial….

“Do you know Morse Code?” he asked Adam.

“Back in my SEAL days, which was like a couple of centuries ago it seems.”

“Well I think someone is trying to send us a signal.”

Adam was at the window a second later, taking the magnifier from Riyad and following his directions to the source of the flashing lights. A moment later he pulled the telescope away from his eyes and smiled.

“I have no idea what the signal means in Nuorean, but on Earth it means S.O.S.”

Epilogue

Hell, they’d only been gone for three days, but the greeting Sherri and Copernicus received from Adam and Riyad was epic. There was far too much crying taking place for a room filled with three manly men and one irascible woman. But no one seemed to care. Adam truly believed he’d never see Sherri again, and although he knew the odds of what just happened were far beyond that of the largest Powerball drawing of all time, even with that, someone usually won. This time it was the four people on the bridge of Adam’s barely running Nuorean spaceship.

They made it back to the D-4, where J’nae and Panur proved their credentials with Human medical procedures. Sherri’s leg was cast posthaste, and all their other injuries scrubbed and bandaged as if by professionals.

Then with the new jump drive operational, the D-4 headed off for the galaxy end of the Radis Spur. The trip would take six days, even with the modified star drive, but Panur didn’t wait until they reached friendly territory before working on the plans for his suppressor beam platforms. Using all the computing power aboard the Belsonian starship, he completed the plans in two days, and then sent all thirty-seven hundred pages of drawings, specifications and instructions to Admiral Olsen.

Two days later, Olsen was back on the line with a half a dozen engineers in a conference link, firing a million questions at the mutant. Panur grew impatient, saying it was all right there if they would just follow the directions. What followed were five more conference calls before the engineers began to grasp the concept. It was still going to be a long and difficult road before the platforms were up and running.

The allied lines were no longer at the beginning of the Radis Spur. They had been moved back until they were forty light-years from Formil. This was where the Expansion—along with the first Union reinforcements—would make a stand. Formil was the premier manufacturing center for the Expansion—the planet and the nine others the Formilians controlled nearby. If these fell into Nuoreans hands, it would be a major blow to the war effort.

As the days passed, and the D-4 neared Formil, Admiral Olsen finally reported some good news.

“After each new alien fleet entered the galaxy, we noticed a huge uptick in their activities. Since your party at the entry point, new activity has dropped to zero. They’re maintaining what they have, but not pushing for more. You seemed to have made an impression.”

“That is good news, Admiral,” Adam said. “But what we have to lookout for now is them showing up in different sectors, and in large numbers.”

“A realignment?”

“Yessir. If I were them I wouldn’t risk sending another fleet through to the same spot. They’ll probably shift focus and then send in units to scout around. A few of the survivors from the last attack probably got pulled back to Andromeda along with the debris field, so they might have some idea what happened, but not the whole picture. They’ll want more information before committing full fleets again.”

“Giving us time to complete the platforms.”

“How’s that coming? We’ll be at Formil in six days; I guess we’ll see firsthand when we get there.”

“To be honest, it’s going slow. Panur may consider his plans child’s play, but our scientists and engineers are having a hell of a time with them. We could sure use his help.”

Adam had already told Olsen about the mutant’s plan to leave and go find Lila, rather than stay and help with the platforms.

“Panur’s still set on leaving. We’ll get there just in time for him to recover the Mark IV and head out.”

“We can keep the ship from him,” Olsen threatened.

“You really think you can? Besides, that would be shitty. He’s done yeoman’s work to this point.”

“It would be for the common good, Captain.”

“You’ll just have to do the best you can, sir,” Adam said. “You can stay in touch with us through CW links.”

“Us?”

“Yessir. I’m going with him.”

“Captain—”

“She’s my daughter, Admiral. I’ve already lost one. I don’t want to lose another.”

“Understood.” The sour look on the Admiral’s face spoke volumes. “I suppose the whole gang is going?”

“Yessir.”

“And Smith?”

“He wants to tag along as well.”

“You okay with that?”

Adam snickered. “It’s really not up to me anymore. He and Sherri are an item now.”

“Heaven help us, Captain.” Alan Olsen leaned back in his chair, resigned to the fact that his best spy and greatest warrior were teaming up and heading out on their own galaxy-quest. “I wish you luck in finding your daughter, Adam. From what I’ve heard through classified channels, that’s not going to be an easy task. Did I hear them right: three-billion-year-old super-beings?”

“It’s just another mystery in this great big universe of ours, Admiral. And I have to tell you, this place is getting weirder by the day.”

The End

Next up for Adam Cain and crew…

The Cain Legacy

Available exclusively on Amazon.com and Kindle Unlimited

Three free books

No kidding. 3 FREE BOOKS, simply for signing up for my Fan Email List.

Just fill out the Subscribe form here.

Facebook Fan Group

I’m inviting you to join my exclusive, secret,

Super Fan Facebook Group appropriately called

Fans of T.R. Harris and

The Human Chronicles Saga

Just click on the link below, and you—yes, YOU—may become a character in one of my books. You may not last long, and you may end up being the villain, but at least you can point to your name in one of my books – and live forever! Maybe. If I decide to use your name. It’s at my discretion.

trharrisfb.com

Contact the Author

Facebook

trharrisfb.com

Email

bytrharris@hotmail.com

Website:

bytrharris.com

Novels by T.R. Harris

The Adam Cain Saga

The Dead Worlds

Empires

Battle Plan

Galactic Vortex

Dark Energy

Universal Law

The Formation Code

The Quantum Enigma

Children of the Aris

The Human Chronicles

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

The Cain Legacy

The Andromeda Mission

Last Species Standing

Invasion Force

Force of Gravity

Mission Critical

The Lost Universe

The Immortal War

Destroyer of Worlds

Phantoms

Terminus Rising

The Last Aris

The Human Chronicles Box Set Series

Box Set #1 – Books 1-5 in the series

Box Set #2 – Books 6-10 in the series

Box Set #3 – Books 11-15 in the series

Box Set #4 – Books 16-20 in the series

Box Set #5—Books 21-25 in the series

REV Warriors Series

Rev

REV: Renegades

REV: Rebirth

REV: Revolution

REV: Retribution

REV Warriors Part 2

REV: Revelations

REV: Resolve

REV Warriors Series Part 1 Box Set - The COMPLETE Series (5 books)

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 Co-Author George Wier…

The Liberation Series

Captains Malicious

Available exclusively on Amazon.com and FREE to members of Kindle Unlimited.