Invasion Force

The Human Chronicles Saga #21

T.R. Harris

An Adam Cain Adventure

Contents

Copyright 2017 by T.R. Harris

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Novels by T.R. Harris

Cast of Characters

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

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

In the next Adam Cain adventure…

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Novels by T.R. Harris

Copyright 2017 by T.R. Harris

All rights reserved, without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanically, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Novels by T.R. Harris

The Human Chronicles Saga

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

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 George Wier…

The Liberation Series

Captains Malicious

Available exclusively on Amazon.com

and 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 in 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.

Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

His story continues…

1

A massive black starship, six miles long, occasionally reflecting streaks of gold and white off the tell-tale signs of the diffusion screens which wrapped the vessel out to twenty miles from the hull. It was an impressive sight, captured by video drones placed along its path. The huge behemoth ignored the miniscule cameras and continued relentlessly along its silent journey.

The massive starship was also oblivious to the two hundred twenty Tactorian warships ringing its course, forming a gauntlet a million miles long for the alien vessel to run. Yet none of the defenders fired upon the intruder, a strange sight considering the overwhelming odds in their favor.

Aboard the Tactorian flagship, Adam Cain watched the scene unfold on the main viewscreen, feeling sick to his stomach and about to vomit. It wasn’t the presence of the deadly Klin warship that had his stomach tied in knots; rather, it was the noxious smell aboard the warship. This was an alien vessel, crewed exclusively by the black-shelled, bug-like creatures. They had no need to accommodate visitors, even someone of Adam’s notoriety. They ran their ship as they pleased, while feeling right at home with the putrid odors circulating within the ventilation system.

Adam had arrived three hours earlier, placing his small, two-person starship in the docking bay of the flagship. The fleet was already assembled by the time he arrived, having been alerted by Phoenix Command that their system was one of nine suspected to be next in line for the Klin’s scorched-earth campaign of death and destruction. Adam had already visited the first two on the list. The black ship was a no-show. But here he hit paydirt, arriving just before the oblong-shaped vessel appeared out of a strange double blackhole at the edge of the system, with no warning of its approach. Now the ship was moving towards the third planet in the system—Tactoria—to fulfill its deadly mission.

Adam knew more about the capabilities of the Klin than anyone in the galaxy. He and his team had been taken aboard one of the six-mile-long ships a year ago. They managed to escape, and afterwards witnessed first-hand the effects of the aliens dropping over three million killer robots on a planet, and the utter devastation that followed. Since then, thirty-two other worlds had been reduced to smoldering ruins, with only a relative few million survivors on each left to wander dumbstruck through the remains of their once-proud civilizations.

Tactoria were next in line. Adam had come to witness the event, in a morbid attempt to learn more about his enemy.

“With respect, Adam Cain, we cannot hang idle as this occurs,” said the Tactorian commander, Kanik G’ks. He clung to a rail above his station, looking down at the smaller Human through eyes like black marbles. The aliens never sat; instead they used a pair of long appendages extending from their shoulders to hang like bats from bars placed throughout the ship. Other, more articulated arms and hands, worked the controls below. The ship’s odd layout left Adam with no place to sit, constantly needing to shift his weight for relief. After three hours, his feet where killing him.

“Trust me, Commander G’ks, if you fire upon the ship it will only energize their laser weapons. At the moment, they don’t have the power to attack your fleet.”

Adam was unable to read the expression on the slick black face of the alien, with its hard crust and solid black eye orbs resting on the surface of a pointy head. But the tiny, round mouth was producing sounds that Adam’s universal language bug translated. They were words of desperation and panic.

“Yet they traverse unopposed to Tactoria, where billions will die unless we stop them.”

“You’ve seen the data, Commander. I wish there was more we could—”

“Yes! There should be more the Expansion could do to protect us.”

“I don’t represent the Expansion.”

“It matters not! You move within the branches of power. You have access to strength we do not.”

“Believe me, G’ks, if we could do something, we would. But it’s early in this war with the Klin. We’re still working on countermeasures.”

“Yet you come here this day with none, not even to test. You are here simply to observe, to observe the death of a civilization.”

Adam fell silent, intimidated by the unblinking glare from the alien’s eyes. For a moment, his sickness shifted from the pungent smell to the regret he felt for G’ks and his people. Although several million would survive the attack, as the Tactorian said billions more would not, along with their structures, monuments, historical relics and more. For all intents and purposes, this was the day the Tactorian race would go extinct.

“Those aboard your fleet—as well as the thousands you’re taking from the planet as we speak—they’ll form the core of a new Tactorian civilization—”

“Why did they not accept our offer of surrender and cooperation?” the alien questioned, ignoring Adam’s words of hope. “Others have been granted such, yet not the Tactorians.”

He was right. Every world approached by the Klin had offered unconditional surrender, along with the cooperation of the population to build their killer robots and black delivery ships. Thirty-two had been approached; six were granted clemency, while twenty-six civilizations perished. Even the Tactorians had begged the Klin to accept their surrender—as they were continuing to do even as the black ship approached their homeworld. But the Klin remained silent, resolute. The black ship continued along its path, moving through the system at nine-tenths the speed of light, scheduled to arrive at Tactoria in four hours.

“Perhaps the Klin have not faced such fire as we can deliver. Perhaps—”

“Twice your number of defending ships met the Klin at Si-on Three. But they opened fire and lost over three hundred ships before the fleet could retreat out of range. I implore you: Do not make the situation worse—”

A small flash through the forward viewscreen caught Adam’s attention. He turned in time to see a thin shaft of light streak across the black of space. The line reached a point in space where it stopped and spread out, wrapping an invisible object in a faint green iridescence glow. Before he knew it, a hundred other streaks all converged on the same point in space.

“Get us out of here—now!” Adam cried out.

“Leave? We have only just begun the battle.”

“All you’ve done is charge their weapons. Their shields absorb energy and feed it back into the ship. The Klin don’t have a choice now but to attack your ships just to bleed off the excess. And they’ll do it with a weapon far more powerful than any of your shields can withstand. Get your people out of here!”

All eyes shifted to the drone cameras tracking the Klin warship. The vessel was now encased in a shimmering shell of green light, while torrents of white and blue energy flared away from the shields, only to arc back and enter at the forward and rear tips of the vessel. As the Klin ship absorbed the energy, a dozen powerful laser beams shot out from points on the hull, targeting Tactorian ships located several thousand miles away. Traveling at nearly the speed of light, the beams reached their targets a split second later, passing through overloaded diffusion shields and burning through helpless hulls with impunity.

None of the initial targets were spared; the Tactorians were too close. Those farther away began to change course as they witnessed the fate of their comrades. All the while the defenders continued releasing salvo after salvo of flash cannon fire from their rear turrets. The Klin ship didn’t attempt to evade the incoming balls of plasma energy. Instead, it took them in, repurposed the energy, and sent it back out to destroy even more Tactorian ships.

G’ks realized now the truth in Adam’s words. The laser weapons of the Klin had a hundred times the range of flash bolts; the Klin ship didn’t even have to change course to attack the defenders. The lasers simply locked onto other targets a million miles away and unleashed more beams. Some of the lasers even tracked across space before coming in contact with their prey, something unheard of with flash weapons. The Tactorians were completely outmatched. Of the two hundred twenty defenders, only ninety remained space-worthy after the first minute of battle.

Just then, a brilliant flash of light filled the bridge. Adam raised his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding assault.

“You have nuclear weapons?” he asked, stunned at the revelation. Most worlds within the Expansion were restricted from having or developing such devices. They weren’t needed in the era of space travel and gravity drives. At a moment’s notice a targeted vessel could enter a gravity-well and be a half a light-year away and safe from the weapon’s limited influence. They were effective, however, if used in a nuclear sphere, but only against stationary targets and when fifty or more bombs were detonated simultaneously.

“They are from a past time,” G’ks explained. “Yet we will use any measures to save our world.”

Adam had never seen a Klin black ship square off against a nuclear explosion. Although he feared the worst, he was hoping for the best.

Most of the drone cameras didn’t survive the explosion, yet a few did, those at the outskirts of the weapon’s range. They showed the Klin ship being bombarded by sheets of yellow energy, interlaced with lightning bolts of blue and white. The arcing beams of energy feeding the black ship were triple in thickness and intensity, yet the hull appeared to be intact and unaffected by the intense radiation surrounding it.

Just then, an incredibly bright beam of light erupted from the top of the vessel amidships. It streaked off into space perpendicular to the length of the hull. Then it began to move. On G’ks threat board the huge beam was seen slashing across space, targeting and slicing through four more of his ships. These vessels were three million miles from the Klin vessel, yet still they fell to the deadly laser beam. At that distance, it took the beam sixteen seconds to reach its target, but once established, it remained charged and able to shift from one defender to another. Every rock, piece of space junk, even clouds of gas and dust was vaporized as the steady beam raked across the heavens between Tactorian ships.

And now it was moving toward the flagship.

“Reverse course!” G’ks yelled. Hanging from their bars, half a dozen Tactorians began operating controls. The ship was in mid-turn when the beam reached it. Diffusion shields flared once as the energy from the laser overwhelmed them instantly. And then the star-hot light sliced off the rear third of the ship.

Fortunately, most interior compartments within the ship had been sealed at the onset of the battle, so the forward section—and even the rear third beyond the cut—remained airtight. But gravity was lost, along with internal power, engines, communications and life support. Battery-powered emergency lights flashed on, revealing a bridge crew in panic.

With gravity down, the Tactorians used the various grasping bars to move through the room, all in a headlong rush to reach emergency air tanks held in storage compartments along the base of the interior bulkheads. Adam held onto the side of a console to keep from floating away, both amused and saddened by the reaction of the crew. The room was airtight and large, with enough residual atmosphere to last a couple of hours. Yet already the Tactorians were pulling out small, personal air tanks and placing masks over their faces, using up emergency reserves before they were needed. At this rate, Adam would have enough air to last five or six hours…even without an emergency tank.

* * *

The Tactorians huddled near the deck, sucking on air tanks and shivering from fright and the gathering cold. All electronics were down, including communications, and any ships within range would consider the drifting flagship to be a lost cause. Adam had to do something about that.

Using the Artificial Telepathy Device embedded beneath his right armpit, he reached out mentally, searching for electronic signals within range. His ATD allowed him to connect with control modules designed and built by the Formilian race, which amounted to about ninety-nine percent of all electronics in the galaxy. He was rewarded with the detection of a nearby source.

It was a starship, located about four hundred thousand miles away and just now charging its gravity generators, preparing for a deep-well jump out of the area. Adam’s mental intrusion raced through computers and circuits until he found the gravity drive controls. He shut down the generators, leaving the ship dead in space and the crew frightened and confused.

He accessed the ship’s comm controls and opened a channel.

“This is Adam Cain aboard the Tactorian flagship.” His voice boomed from bridge speakers, even as operators were at a loss to pin-point the source of the incoming transmission. “Just open a channel and I’ll hear you. Please respond.”

A moment later a weak voice sounded in Adam’s mind.

This is H’can, commander of this vessel. I do not understand.

“You don’t have to at this point. Just know that Commander G’ks and most of his crew are alive and trapped in secure compartments aboard the flagship. We’re in desperate need of a rescue operation.”

We read no power output...and no communication signals originating from the flagship. We cannot proceed without confidence. And add to that our generators are malfunctioning; we are in no position to assist.

“I shut down your engines so you wouldn’t bolt out of the area. Your chemical engines are still operating. Now stop thinking and get your asses over here!”

To punctuate his sentence, Adam ignited the chem drive of the Tactorian starship, not at full power, but just enough to let them know he had the means to make his request-slash-command a reality. The oblong spaceship cycled around and headed for Adam and the bifurcated flagship.

* * *

Three hours later, most of the crew from both sections of the flagship had been rescued. Adam even managed to salvage his personal starship from the landing bay. This did involve some rather abrupt depressurization of the chamber, since all the controls were dead. But once the outer door was open, he remotely activated the ship’s controls with his ATD and coaxed it out of the flagship’s bay and into that of H’can’s ship.

Half an hour later, Adam was on the bridge of the second Tactorian ship, listening as H’can briefed his commander on the status of the battle.

“A total of five atom weapons were sent against the Klin warship. At that point it left the system.”

“It left? Was it able to create a gravity-well?” Adam asked H’can.

“The ability to or not cannot be discerned. I report that it did not leave in a gravity-well,” said the alien.

Nuclear explosions had a nasty habit of interfering with gravity-well creation. Apparently the Klin had not solved that problem. But that wasn’t what excited Adam the most. The Klin had been driven away. This was great news.

“Their energy absorption must have limits,” he said. “So they split before their systems overloaded.”

“Correction: The Klin ship remained intact as one unit during its departure,” H’can pointed out. Adam gave the beetle-like alien a full-tooth smile. He figured he was safe with the whole exposed-teeth-mean-a-death-challenge thing…since the Tactorians didn’t have teeth.

“That is true, my friend, but they aren’t gone, not for good. They probably retreated just so they could dump some of their excess energy. We’ll need more nukes if we want to keep them away from your planet for good.”

“Confused as to your meaning, Adam Cain?” H’can said. Again, the solid black eye orbs made reading his expression impossible. “The second Klin ship delivered the conquering robots to the surface.”

“What second ship?”

“The second Klin ship. It appeared from the opposite direction as the first vessel. It reached Tactoria unopposed.”

“They used two ships to attack your system?”

Both H’can and G’ks shared a look. “Was the meaning not clear?” H’can asked.

“Yes it was. It’s just that I’ve never heard of the Klin using two ships for one system. I didn’t know they had that many available.”

According to command intelligence sources, the Klin only had seven completed black ships to deliver their deadly cargo of killer robots to a target world. With a galaxy to conquer, they shouldn’t be in a position to allocate more than one ship per system—at least not yet. Even factoring in a reasonable build-out rate, it would take decades to accomplished the Klin’s Final Solution—the annihilation of all Prime life in the galaxy.

“In spite of our efforts, our homeworld is in the process of being destroyed,” G’ks stated. “There is nothing more for us to do.”

“You can gather up the survivors and start over,” Adam snapped. “The Klin never kill everyone on a planet. Eventually their robots shut down. But warn your people, as the machines power-down, they also explode. So don’t go near any dormant robots.”

“We have been so briefed,” G’ks replied. “A warning conveyed in words I add, which is all the Expansion has given us to this point.”

Adam didn’t have a response. He’d heard the same complaint a dozen times before. ‘The Expansion should have done more.’ ‘The Expansion should be able to protect its member planets.’

Adam bowed slightly. “I’m sorry for your loss, G’ks, but I’ll be leaving now—”

“So you can relay your observations?” asked the Tactorian commander. “It should be a short report, repeated often. I assist: Another world destroyed, billions dead.”

2

Adam’s two-person command-class transport starship was not much more than a secure crew pod stuck between two of the largest gravity generators he’d ever seen on a ship this size. The craft was Juirean-built and extremely fast. They’d loaned it to him the last time he was on Formil, desperate for real-time intelligence regarding the Klin and recognizing Adam’s mastery of strategy and tactics. He also had the most up-to-date working knowledge of the Klin, making him the acknowledged ‘expert’ in this war and once again the default savior of the Milky Way Galaxy.

As he steered the ship to a safe distance from the Tactorian starship before engaging a deep gravity-well, Adam gnashed his teeth out of frustration. Once more he felt the weight of the galaxy pressing down on his shoulders, with all eyes looking to him to pull a rabbit out of his hat. For once—just once—he wished someone else would come to the rescue. He was getting too old for all this hero shit.

* * *

The trip to Formil took eight days, even in the Juirean’s just-get-me-to-my-destination-as-fast-as-possible starship. During the journey, Adam had time to organize his thoughts, and using the omnipresent galactic Library, he was able to pull up data to support his hypothesis. He would be ready to present his findings and recommendations as soon as he arrived on Arieel Bol’s home planet.

His team had arrived on Formil thirty days earlier, assembling there for a specific purpose unique only to them. As a result, when Adam entered the main hall on the twenty-first floor of the Trimen O’lac Building, he was greeted with a frustrating sight.

The lights in the room were flickering on and off.

“Knock it off, Jym!” Copernicus Smith snapped. “We get it; you can control the lights.”

“I can control more than that,” the tiny bear-like creature responded with gusto. “I can work elevators and food processors—I could even pilot a starship without touching the controls.”

“Yeah, we all can,” Sherri chimed in, frustrated as well by the alien’s obsession with his new Artificial Telepathy Device. “But I wouldn’t recommend trying to pilot a starship with your ATD, not until you’ve had more training.”

Several years ago both Sherri Valentine and Riyad Tarazi had been fitted with ATDs and received on-the-job training from Adam and Arieel. Since then Riyad’s old unit had been removed, while Sherri’s burned out during one of the team’s many adventures. Now they were both proud owners of new units, as was every member of the team who didn’t already have one.

The Formilian Temple priests had raised holly-hell over the plan, but Arieel and Adam’s persistence proved more than they could resist. Considering the desperate state the galaxy was in facing the genocidal Klin, having a team of operatives equipped with the secret brain-interface devices was the only advantage the allies had going for them. Even so, there were seven team members against a whole army of alien-built killer robots and their ever-growing fleet of invincible warships.

Yet a year ago, Adam—with the help of his ATD—had proved effective during his one and only encounter with the Klin in this new war. It was argued six other people so equipped couldn’t hurt.

Or could it? Adam was having his doubts.

It had taken considerable time and training for him to gain the level of expertise he had with his device. And Arieel had grown up with hers, as the heir-apparent to the leadership of the Formilian people.

But the aliens Kaylor and Jym were another matter.

For his part, Kaylor seemed more apprehensive of the device than anxious to learn how to us it. His Belsonian race wasn’t known to be overly religious, but they did have a fervent belief in the sanctity of their physical being. Having an artificial device implanted in his body that could sync with his brain was something he was having difficulty accepting.

On the other hand, Jym welcomed the device and all the power it gave him. As the smallest and weakest of the team, he felt the ATD put him on an even keel with the others. But an ATD is a complicated device, with a lot of training required before it could be used efficiently. Jym was having none of that. He was too impatient to concentrate on the training sessions, inclined more to learn on his own through obnoxious—and potentially dangerous—experimentation. Jym’s antics were also interfering with the training the others were going through—especially Copernicus Smith.

Coop was new to the whole ATD thing. Sure, he’d seen Adam and Arieel operate theirs, but unlike Sherri and Riyad—who had prior experience—he was the only Human on the team who was a complete rookie with the device. Whereas Kaylor feared his ATD—and Jym experimented with his—Coop was confused by the whole concept of the brain-interface and was having a helluva time making the damn thing work.

“You have to gain awareness of the Gift within your body,” Arieel was explaining to Coop as Adam entered the room. For two thousand years, the Formilian race considered the powers of the interface device a Gift, given to their supreme religious leader—their Speaker—as a means of communicating with the polar-opposite gods Mislin and Sufor. “At the moment, you do not feel the gift within you,”

Arieel continued. “Once you become more aware, you will have an easier time accessing its miracles.”

Adam was surprised to hear Arieel speak in such terms about the ATD. By now she was fully aware that all the so-called miracles the device created were merely a result of science and technology, and not from any mystical or divine providence. But old habits die hard, so Adam gave her a pass.

No one seemed particularly glad or surprised to see him. His habit of coming and going was old hat by now; besides, they were too distracted with their new toys to give him much notice.

But Sherri did come over and give him a cursory hug.

“How was your trip?” she asked flippantly, as if he’d just spent a few days in Cleveland at a widget convention, rather than getting a starship get cut in half with him aboard.

“It was fine, dear,” Adam answered, matching her tone. Sherri nodded absently and moved back to where Copernicus stood red-faced, listening to Arieel explain more about the ATD—in frustratingly-religious terminology.

“Let’s get him to concentrate on the area under his armpit,” Sherri offered. “Take your hand and feel the unit under your skin. Maybe that will make it more real to you.”

Arieel nodded, and the two women devoted all their attention to the bare-chested hunk of a man with the feral six-pack abs.

Copernicus Smith was only thirty-six years old; at that age Adam been just as cut. And now with the tiny colony of alien mutant brain cells residing within his skull, he was more physically-fit than he’d ever been in his life. But on the exterior, he was still a forty-nine year-old man who’d seen more than his share of youth-stealing mileage. He looked over at Riyad, seated on a large couch and shaking his head at Jym’s annoying antics. He was the oldest of the group, yet his smooth olive-skin and jet black hair and beard disguised his chronological age. He could pass for anywhere between the mid-twenties to around forty, but never his actual age of fifty-two.

Depressed, Adam walked to the food prep station located along an outer wall of the room. There was a large window facing north, revealing a spectacular vista of snow-capped mountains and a wide river called the Yanis. The team had been given the entire twenty-first floor of the thirty-story skyscraper to use as their base of operations. So far, not many operations had been planned or implemented since the Klin invasion begun a year earlier. The team was still in the information-gathering stage, and the longer it took for them to come up with any viable countermeasures, the more planets would be lost to the insane aliens.

Adam pulled a cup of steaming coffee from the processor and turned to look into the room. Yes, his team had proven themselves over and over again, but why were they always the ones drafted into saving the galaxy? To be fair, he knew there were billions of other creatures, made up of a thousand different species, all working on the same problem. But it was Adam Cain and his people who were expected to come up with a solution. It was the cavalier nature of the assumption that upset him the most.

A large conference table was set off to his left, with a data box imbedded in its surface and a viewing screen on the wall. He walked over and took a seat in front of the control box, his shitty mood causing him to gripe about why there weren’t holographic projectors like they had in Star Wars. Instead, his presentation would be displayed on a normal-looking glass panel, resembling a large flat-screen TV. Sure, the technology under the hood was light-years beyond what Sony ever came up with before alien tech took over on Earth. But still…there should be holographs.

Adam’s acerbic mood made everything he saw or touch piss him off just a little bit more. He also didn’t like being taken for granted….

“Hey, you think you could stop playing around for a minute?” he barked into the room, sounding as bitchy as possible. “We have some very important things to go over. This is serious, something all of you seem to have forgotten.”

“What bug climbed up your ass and laid an egg?” Sherri snapped back. “All you had to do was call the meeting to order.”

“I thought I just did.”

“Come, Jym,” Kaylor said to his life-long friend and shipmate. “Our master has spoken.”

Adam cursed under his breath. When Kaylor got snarky with him, he knew he’d crossed a line. Even so, Adam was in no mood to apologize.

When everyone was seated at the table, Adam inserted a data chip in the computer.

“Getting right to it, there were some interesting developments during my time with the Tactorians. I’ve gone over some of this already with Riyad during the transit back here, but for the rest of you this will be new.”

He looked to the huge display screen. It was dark. He pulled the chip from the reader and inserted it again. Still no data.

Pursing his lips in anger, Adam glared at Jym, who was seated at the opposite end of the rectangular table.

“I concede,” the alien said with a laugh. “Yet you must admit to being impressed. I was able to locate the control module and affect the workings of the monitor.”

The screen flashed on.

Through his anger, Adam had to admit the tiny bear was making progress with his ATD at a faster pace than expected. But this was not the time or the place to play games. Not with the mood Adam was in.

The screen showed a detailed graphic of the approach of the Klin warship, and the subsequent attack by the Tactorians. When the five nuclear bombs exploded in succession, Adam suddenly had their attention.

“It wasn’t destroyed?” Copernicus asked, unbelieving.

“No, but the ship did leave the system,” Riyad reported. He looked at Adam. “We could just keep blasting them with nukes until they leave, and then set up a perimeter to keep them away.”

“That would take a lot of nukes,” Sherri noted. “It would also saturate the system with clouds of radiation.”

“The radiation would dissipate over time,” Kaylor countered. “And having to avoid a number of restricted areas within a system for few years is better than the alternative.”

The screen now showed the second Klin vessel entering from the opposite direction and its subsequent unloading of millions of deadly robots on the planet Tactoria.

“We just need to form a screen around the target planet to cover all approaches,” Riyad said. “Move the defensive line in closer. That should do it.”

Adam leaned back in his chair as all eyes turned to him. “I’ve been looking at this from all sides and here are my conclusions. First, there are eight thousand worlds in the Expansion, plus about fifty in the Union. We would have to arm each of them with a stockpile of nuclear weapons—devices that are archaic and rare—even on Earth. And the strategy doesn’t destroy the Klin ships. It only forces them to leave the system. The Klin could simply lay off for a while and come back in, over and over again, until the weapons are depleted. And secondly, can you imagine what could go wrong with eight thousand species all armed to the teeth with nuclear bombs? It ain’t pretty.”

“That’s true,” Sherri said. “But you’re wrong about having to arm every civilized planet in the galaxy. The Klin have been following a very precise plan of attack. They’ve been predicable to a fault.”

Adam smiled and changed the image on the screen, replacing it was an overview of a quarter of the galaxy. A highlighted section displayed red contacts with connecting lines.

“You’re right, Sherri, they have. And that could be their Achilles Heel.”

“Forgive me, Adam…their what?” Arieel asked.

“Their weak point. Observe.” The imaged morphed into a flyby of the region under attack by the Klin. There was a wide area where the recent battles were taking place, and then a tapering until the battle points disappeared. At first the area of devastation appeared to be an expanding triangle, until the perspective changed to show it to be a cone. And like every cone, it had a point of origin.

“Like I said, a precise game plan.” Like all the others around the table, Sherri could see where the conversation was headed. “And with a specific starting point.”

“Exactly,” Adam agreed. “We have a choice of either stopping the Klin’s machines, or stopping the Klin themselves. There’s a base of operations somewhere, and the obvious place is right here.” He highlighted the tip of the cone with a marker. “It’s estimated that only about two hundred thousand Klin exist. Our efforts should be focused on finding and eliminating them. If we can do that, the threat simply fades away.”

“Unless their machines are programmed to go on without them,” Kaylor pointed out.

“Without the Klin riding shotgun over their production facilities, their robots and spaceships will stop being built.” Adam waited for one of the aliens to comment on the word shotgun, but none did. His message was clear.

Copernicus shook his head. “You know, the one thing that’s always bothered me about the Klin’s attack strategy; why haven’t they gone directly to the main planets and wiped them out? Their stealth starships can approach any system undetected, and so far—until now—there’s been no way to stop them. They could have gone to Juir, Formil—even Earth—and that would have been ninety percent of the war right there.”

“According to that Klin bastard we met aboard the black ship when we were captured, his people are at war with the entire galaxy, all the races that turned their backs on the Klin over the thousands of years they’ve been in exile,” Adam said. “But your concern has been mine, too, Coop. If we do manage to ward off a few attacks, the Klin may decide to go for the jugular. At the moment, they’re punishing the leaders of the galaxy with their rather systematic annihilation of the Expansion. We’re fortunate their starting point is on the opposite side of the galaxy from Earth. At their current pace, it could be a hundred years before they reach the Union…unless they change strategy.”

Riyad looked at Adam. “What you’re saying is that if we start using the nuclear option to deny the Klin access to the worlds in their direct path, they may change strategy and start hitting planets willy-nilly?”

Even in his rotten mood, Adam had to smile at the reactions from the three aliens to the word willy-nilly. They desperately wanted to ask for an explanation; instead they relied on logic to decipher the meaning, hoping it was right.

“The thing I’ve come to realize about the whole Klin affair,” Adam began, “is their plans are fluid and amendable. They’ve had the upper hand in every engagement. Even at Tactoria—when nukes were used—they showed up with a second ship, as if they anticipated the response. They had to know we’d use nukes eventually, and they had a counter-response already in motion.”

Sherri pointed at the monitor. “So the obvious point of origin could be a deception, simply because it’s so obvious.”

Adam nodded. “Anyone with a computer can plot the attack progression and follow it to the starting point. The Klin have to know this.”

“So why make it so obvious?” Arieel asked.

“So we’ll step into the trap,” Riyad answered.

“We?” Arieel asked. “How could they have anticipated it would be this team that would propose the plan to seek out the living Klin?”

“It wasn’t necessarily meant for us, just whatever force was sent to track down the Klin.”

“But it will be us, is this correct?” Jym asked, his voice trembling.

“Naturally,” Adam said with a smile. “They sent the invitation. Who are we to refuse?”

“Did you not just say it is a trap?” Arieel questioned.

“Yeah, but we’ll know it’s a trap,” Copernicus said, warming up to the plan. “That will give us a chance to turn the tables on the silver-skinned bastards,”

“Turn the tables? How does rearranging furniture serve our purpose?”

Arieel was sitting to Adam’s left. He reached out and grasped her soft, warm hand. “Your beauty and innocent charm is intoxicating, my dear.” Then he turned serious. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to remain here while the rest of us go off to dance with the Klin?”

Arieel jerked her hand from his and pushed away from the table. “Of course not! I do not run in fear from a challenge. And I am a gift-carrier. In fact I am the most-proficient user of the device. You would be at a disadvantage without me.”

“Let her come along,” Sherri said, smiling. “I could use some female company to offset the testosterone rampant in this room—including whatever hormones Jym and Kaylor have running through their bodies.”

“It was never in doubt,” Adam said, his mood improved considerably now that he had mission…and a group of friends to share it with.

3

Next, Adam had to brief the bigwigs on his plan.

The Expansion—indeed the entire galaxy, including the Orion-Cygnus Union—was now governed by a Council of Advisors comprised of representatives from the thirteen major worlds. After Adam’s daughter Lila was kidnapped by the ancient Aris race, a leadership void was created, and a void that had to be filled quickly to resist the Nuorean invasion that started the same day Lila was taken.

Although the Juireans had begun the process of slowly repatriating Expansion leadership back to Juir, they were content to leave most of the infrastructure and responsibility to the Formilians as the galaxy faced the new threat posed by the Klin. If the defense failed, they could blame it on Arieel and her people and their lack of experience. If they succeeded, they could say it was because of the substantial support the Juireans gave the upstart leaders of the Expansion. Either way, it was politics as usual.

The Council met in a large conference room four stories above the team’s level in the O’lac Building. It was the fact they were so close that upset Adam the most, when his request for a meeting didn’t get scheduled until two days later, and with an allocated time of only fifteen minutes for him to present his plan. He didn’t have the time to waste.

Adam had already submitted a data brief outlining his observations with the Tactorians. He also included a rough draft of his intentions to seek out the remaining Klin population. But two days? It was as if they weren’t taking his proposal seriously.

* * *

When the day and time arrived, Adam was seated at the focus of the horseshoe-shaped table—the hot-seat the Humans called it. He was by himself, with none of his team for support.

The Council members filed in slowly. Very few acknowledged Adam’s presence, even as they spent considerable time talking amongst themselves, even laughing on occasion. All the while, the galaxy was being overrun by killer Klin….

Eventually, Adam made eye contact with the Human representative on the Council, the Honorable Ashton Hill. He nodded at Adam with casual nonchalance, his eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.

The Formilian First Corusant—an alien called U’lac Vison—called the meeting to order.

“Welcome Adam Cain,” he said without looking at the Human. “I understand you wish to make a brief presentation to the Council.”

Adam was taken aback by the apparent lack of seriousness to his proposal.

“It is more than a presentation, First Corusant. It is a plan ultimately designed to eliminate the Klin as a threat to the galaxy. And I must say I’m a little disappointed at the apparent lack of urgency on the part of the Council. If I’m not mistaken, the Klin are still gobbling up Expansion planets at an alarming rate across an ever-widening arc of the galaxy.”

U’lac frowned, his golden bronze skin and piercing blue eyes betraying his age of one-hundred ten Earth years. He didn’t look a day over fifty.

“I take exception to your criticism. We on the Council are very much engaged in the conflict with the Klin. And to that end, we have reviewed your proposal and find it lacking in certain respects.”

“Lacking? In what way?”

“You request permission to seek out the Klin, after which a concerted military operation is to be launched to eradicate the threat.”

“That’s right,” Adam said. “The Klin only number a couple hundred thousand. The combined might of the galaxy will have no problem taking them out for good. No more Klin, now or forever.”

U’lac reviewed a data screen placed in the tabletop in front of him. “Yet your proposal is in conflict. You state that there is a possibility the Klin may change strategy if provoked, including our use of nuclear weapons to deter their approach to target worlds. Although we have welcomed the news about the deterrent nature of these weapons, we have decided to use this approach exclusive for the protection of the thirteen worlds of the Advisory Council. The psychological impact of losing these systems would have a catastrophic effect on the rest of the galaxy. They must be protected. Yet this approach would only take affect if the Klin decide to attack select worlds, rather than the methodical nature of their current offensive. To that end we will not be using the option in defense of other systems.”

“You won’t arm the other worlds of the Expansion?”

“In your report, you said the use of such weapons on a wider scale could entice the Klin to change their plans.”

“Yeah, but to not even try….”

“Our strategists have come up with alternatives which we feel are a more sensible answer to the Klin situation. Would you care to hear them?”

Adam blinked several times. “Like duh…of course I would.”

“Endender Das, would you care to take over the briefing?” U’lac asked another creature at the table.

Das was a Criminean, a squat creature with grey skin covered in a light coating of fine fur. He was dressed in a green-colored robe that exposed his thick arms. Adam didn’t know much more about him or his kind, except that they controlled an eight-hundred-world federation within the Expansion.

“Yes, U’lac, I would welcome the opportunity.” The alien locked eyes with Adam. “We have made two conclusions. One, with the current progression of the Klin’s invasion and the thousands of worlds within the Expansion, it will take nearly twenty standard years for them to reach the first of the Council systems—including Formil. It is believed that during this interval, other options may present themselves. Among those options: The Klin may lose interest in the invasion and decide to accept their conquests as the basis for a galactic empire designed to satisfy their need for leadership and dominance. The other: During this twenty-year interval, our scientists will find an answer to the Klin’s invasion ships. Even now, thousands of the best minds in the galaxy are working on the problem.

“The next conclusion involves a more proactive response to the invasion. When we consider that the black ships of the Klin do not pose a direct threat unless fired upon, we only deem them to be delivery vessels for the real threat we face—the autonomous mechanized devices they carry.” The alien looked along the table at the faces of the other Council members. There were several nods or other gestures acknowledging agreement.

“If needed, we are proposing concerted military action against the worlds producing these mechanized devices.”

“You propose attacking the manufacturing worlds?” Adam gasped. “They’re members of the Expansion.”

“We no longer consider them as such. They have joined forces with the enemy.”

“They had no choice.”

“That matters not. They are now an integral part of the Klin invasion plan. If the means of producing these machines can be eliminated, then the rest of the galaxy will be safe.”

“But you’d kill billions of innocent beings. These planets had no choice but to surrender and do the bidding of the Klin.”

“Yet you further detail in your report that the Klin may eventually exterminate these races after their factories become fully functional and self-sustaining,” countered the Criminean. “If that is correct, then these species are already scheduled for extinction. There will be no effective loss by employing our strategy. And with no machines to invade member worlds, the threat vanishes.”

“There’s an easier and less costly way,” Adam exclaimed. “Simply wipe out the remaining Klin. Then the threat goes away forever. Do you think if we stop the production of their robots that they won’t come up with another way to attack us? It’s what these bastards do. And I was told personally by one of them that they’re at war with the entire galaxy. They’re also patient sons-of-bitches. We may stop this invasion, but they’ll be back. They always come back. Unless we wipe them out at the source.”

The Council members looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement.

U’lac, the Formilian, spoke next.

“We have details of your proposal in our files. We will ask that you wait as we make our decision.”

Adam remained seated. That was it? They didn’t want more details about his plan?

“Please step outside the meeting room,” U’lac coaxed.

Adam waited a few seconds longer before pushing back from the table and standing up. He glared at the aliens around the table—even at the Human who had remained silent throughout the brief debate. Then he stalked away and into the lobby outside the conference room.

* * *

Adam began to pace, not only out of frustration, but also confusion. Would the decision come soon, or in days? Should he wait here, or return to his room?

And another thing: It had been years since he’d been treated so rudely, so dismissively; however, thinking back, Adam realized that wasn’t true. It had happened several times before, and under similar circumstances. It seemed that no matter how many times you save the galaxy, the politicians in charge only think about the next election and what it will take to keep them in power. The Council wasn’t thinking long-term. Accepting that it will be twenty years before any of their homeworlds are threatened, they didn’t want to risk upsetting the Klin’s current timetable. In twenty years, all of the Council members would be gone and the Klin would be someone else’s problem. Yet with the omnipresent threat hanging over the galaxy, these thirteen beings could rule the galaxy for years, citing the welfare of the masses as justification for their actions.

The door to the conference room opened and Ashton Hill walked out. Adam raced up to him.

“What the hell was that all about?” he barked at the other Human. “Why didn’t you speak up? Are you going to let them exterminate billions of creatures, or worse, just sit on their hands while the Klin conquer thousands of worlds?”

“It’s not as simple as that, Mr. Cain.”

“Bullshit. It is that simple. They’re giving in to the Klin just to protect their precious positions, yours included.”

Hill’s dark eyes bore into Adam’s. “Fuck you, Cain! You think just because you’re famous you can do what you damn well please. You’re wrong. You’ve spent years following your own lead without regard to anyone else. Yeah, you’ve gotten lucky a few times, but people like me and the other members of the Council have more responsibility than you can possibly imagine. We make decisions based on everyone’s welfare, not just a select few.”

“Like selfishly saving your own worlds while letting the rest of the galaxy fall to the Klin?”

“That’s not going to happen. As we see it, we have time for a more nuanced response to the Klin. There’s no need to rush into something that could piss off the Klin.”

“The Klin are our enemy; they’re already pissed off at us, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“And we want to make sure they don’t get even more pissed off,” Hill yelled.

“So what am I supposed to do now, while you and your spineless wonders work on your nuanced response?”

Hill’s face turned an even darker shade of red.

“For your information, hotshot, we’ve approved your mission—but to a point. You’re to find the Klin, but do not engage. I repeat: Do not engage.”

“And if we’re attacked?”

“Then run as fast as you can. The Juireans have agreed to let you keep the ET vessel. That should help.”

“I need my whole team. They won’t all fit in the ET. And we need a non-military vessel, one that won’t attract too much attention.”

“Then get a ship from general assignment. I give you permission.”

“Gee, thanks. It’s good to see we’re still on the same side.”

“You arrogant son-of-bitch,” Hill growled. “It’s either your way or no way, is that it? What makes you think you’re so much smarter than the rest of us?”

Adam could think of a small colony of mutant brain cells in his head for starters. But he kept that information to himself.

“Fine, I get it. Just find the Klin and report back to Formil. Aye aye, sir.”

Adam gave Hill a cock-eyed salute and then turned on his heal and left.

* * *

Even though he had the go-ahead for his mission, there was more to the diplomat’s acceptance of Adam’s mission than he admitted. Adam had hinted in his report that the starting point for the search could very well be a trap. Hill hadn’t mentioned that. If Adam and his people were captured, it would be foolish to count on any help from the Expansion, or even the Union for that matter. Their demise would fit nicely into Hill’s plans. They would no longer be around to interfere with the Council’s plans.

Of course, Adam wasn’t in the business of making life easier for those who pissed him off. In fact, he often went out of his way to be the thorn-in-the-side of anyone who made him mad. And at the moment, Adam Cain was as mad as a hornet.

4

He conveyed the news to the team by way of his ATD, and then had to listen to several minutes of bitching and moaning in his mind from multiple sources. Even Copernicus chimed in, evidently having mastered the rudimentary skill of telepathic communication using his ATD.

Next, he took the elevator to the ground floor of the huge government building and caught a transport to the far side of the commercial spaceport on the south end of the Temple Complex. This was where the office for general assignment transports was located. The building was old and in ill-repair, just the type of place you’d expect to find a disgruntled bureaucrat ready to take out her frustrations on anyone who approached the counter. It was Adam’s turn in the barrel.

“I’m Adam Cain. I’m here to requisition a long-range starship.”

The female alien on the other side of the counter was impossibly slender with near-translucent skin, making it appear bluish under the harsh overhead lighting. She was old, Adam guessed, based on the abundance of wrinkles on her face. Of course, this could be how all the members of her species looked. He’d never seen her kind before.

“I have no ships to requisition,” the alien declared. “All are being used for system defense or evacuation purposes on other planets. Come back in a six days; I might have something then.”

“I can’t wait six days. Don’t you have anything at all?”

“What ships I do have in inventory are already reserved.”

“But I’m Adam Cain. Surely you’ve heard of me. This is important.”

“I have heard the name, although I suspect you are not him.”

Adam’s jaw fell open. “Why not?”

“The alien is much bigger than you.”

Adam had run across this before. It seemed that the larger the legend, the larger the creature had to be.

“But I am Adam Cain. The mission I’m about to embark on is of the utmost importance, involving the security of the entire galaxy. Is there no way you can bump one of the reserved vessels and give it to me.”

“No,” the female snapped. Her tone said it all. There would be no bumping taking place today.

“Yet…,” the clerk began, “there are a number of vessels in storage at the Solic-Min moon.”

“What’s that?”

“It is the primary moon of the planet Andos within the system; the gas giant.”

“Yes, I know the planet Andos. But what is this storage facility?”

“It is not a facility, but a cluster of old and derelict vessels in orbit. They are used primarily as a source of spare parts. I will call up the inventory.”

A viewable monitor came to life on the wall next to Adam, and he watched as the pictures and data on dozens of ships scrolled by. The clerk was right. These vessels were nothing more than scrap, lingering in orbit above a large, ice-covered moon. Adam had to laugh; this would have been mechanic-porn for Kaylor and Jym. They made their living culling together derelict starships and making them operational again. As a matter of fact, so did Copernicus Smith.

“Stop!” Adam said as a ship scrolled by. The clerk reversed the feed, stopping at the indicated vessel.

It was a large freighter, easily five hundred feet long and with two huge humps along the aft section of the hull housing the gravity generators. It wasn’t pretty, but it would provide the perfect cover for his operation.

The skinny alien read the survey report. “Only one of the NX-41 generators is operational. The vessel has been certified air-tight, with basic electronics intact. Transponder registered to the Morlain Confederation—expired. You must know that moving a vessel that big on one generator would be extremely slow. Yet looking at your options, you do not have many with more potential.”

“I’ll take her,” Adam said. “Can you provide me with updated registration?”

“I can. The fee is nine hundred Juirean credits.”

“But this is an official government-sanctioned mission.”

“And I represent the government. The fee must be paid before you will be allowed to move the vessel.”

Adam was sure the sour look he gave the bureaucrat was lost in translation. But at least he had a ship.

Fortunately, the trip from Formil to the moon Solic-Min only took less than an hour in the Juirean ET starship. Unfortunately, all seven members of the team had to squeeze into the small crew pod designed for only two. Luckily, the two creatures it was designed for were the seven-foot-tall Juireans, which helped a little.

Adam made a slow loop around the derelict starship as most of the team pressed their faces against the round viewing canopy to get a look. Arieel could care less, but the rest of the team gawked at the vessel with emotions ranging from disappoint to excitement.

Starships don’t rust in space, but since the freighter was designed for surface landings, it was obvious that at some time in the past, this one had spent a lot of time planetside and exposed to the elements. It was almost a uniform ruddy orange in color, with some sections having been completely eaten away. The clerk had also said the ship was air-tight. She obviously meant that sections of the ship were so, because it was evident most of the freighter was open to the vacuum of space.

From the survey, Adam knew there were two small landing bays at the stern, with a large cargo bay between them. Along the hull going forward were eight smaller cargo holds, four to a side, with dedicated airlocks for each. Three of the outer pressure doors on these cargo bays were missing.

Adam steered the ET toward the forward section and hovered above the bridge, focusing a spotlight through the large, three-sided viewport. There was no power on and all he could see was the uniform grey of the cold interior.

“You said NX-41’s?” Jym asked, breaking the silence.

“Uh huh, but only one’s working.”

“Forty-ones are the most-common generators for a ship this size. We should be able to find another one within the shipyard.”

“On the surface, they require heavy machinery to move,” Copernicus added. “But in space, a small turbo-tractor should do. Freighters like this should have several tractors onboard.”

“If they have not already been scavenged,” Kaylor said.

“We’ll see,” Coop offered. “But like Jym said, there should be a few 41’s nearby. They’re not the type of generator you can use in a standard starship. They’re too big and bulky.”

“I’m glad you guys are enthusiastic about the challenges we face,” Adam said with humor in his voice. “Just remember, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Then get us inside,” Coop said. “We’re anxious to get to work. Besides…I think someone just farted.”

5

Adam had already scanned the freighter with his ATD. The ship was as dead as a graveyard, so before anything could be done the batteries needed recharging.

The ET had a small, one person airlock in the back and Kaylor dressed in a spacesuit and squeezed his way out the exit hatch. He attached a power cable to a receptacle on the skin of the ET and then glided weightless to the access hatch at the rear of the huge ship. Using tools he carried with him, he manually cranked open the hatch and entered the airlock. Since there was no air inside, he simply cycled the next door open and entered one of the dual docking bays for the freighter.

Using the magnetics in his boots, he lumbered across the deck until he came to a power module hookup and plugged in the cable. He hovered in place as the batteries began to charge. It would take an hour just to get enough juice to open the docking bay door so the ET could be brought inside. After that, more systems would begin to come online until the one working generator could be jump-started, providing a surge of electricity throughout the derelict ship.

* * *

Three hours later, Adam exited the ET, which was now magnetically secured to the deck of the landing bay. All the team members would wear environment suits until they could assess the integrity of the various compartments. They fanned out, now able to use their ATDs to track power coursing throughout the vessel. Another two hours passed before they met up on the bridge, which was now pressurized and filled with stale smelling air.

Adam removed his helmet. The others followed suit.

“Okay, we have a lot of work to do and very little time. Coop?”

“There are four turbo-tractors aboard—each needing recharging—but they look to be operational. Kaylor and I will take a couple out once they’re charged and look for another NX-41 generator. Jym will be working on getting the other one operational to the point where we can have localized gravity aboard. We don’t want to engage all the internals until we get the beast-of-a-generator locked into place.”

“Good,” Adam replied. “Riyad and Sherri, I need you to do an interior survey of the hull integrity. Identify secure compartments and flag those that aren’t. Arieel and I will work on getting the bridge systems up and running, including diagnostics. I want to be on our way in three days, at the max.”

“Three days!” Copernicus exclaimed. “That’s asking a lot.”

Adam smiled and placed a hand on the shoulder of the starship repairman-slash-deep cover spy. “Hey, I have the best crew money can buy. We’ll get it done.”

“Did I miss something?” Jym asked. “I cannot remember the last time I was paid for helping you.”

“I’m holding your credits in escrow to keep you from spending them wildly. But just think, you’ll have a really nice retirement when all this is done.”

“If I live long enough to collect.”

* * *

It turned out that sixty percent of the internal compartments were air-tight and able to withstand pressurization. This included the galley and nineteen crew compartments. It seemed that in its prime, the freighter had only one- or two-man berthing compartments for the crew, not counting the officer’s quarters. It also had a top-of-the-line food processing system, or at least top-of-the-line for when the ship was operational. In its day, it would have been borderline luxurious to crew the freighter. But the ship was seventy standard years old, and according to the last log entry, hadn’t been in service for the last twenty. After spending five years on a planet just collecting dust and rust, she’d been forced into orbit and moved here. Fortunately, the deterioration ended once she reached the vacuum of space; however, the vessel had suffered the occasional micro-meteorite bombardment over the years that poked tiny holes in the hull. Forty of these punctures could be repaired, which would bring the structural integrity of the ship up to seventy-five percent. Adam was okay with that. None of the remaining twenty-five percent contained any mission-critical compartments.

By the end of the first day, internal gravity was active in the forward half of the ship, leaving only micro-effects reaching aft and to the engine compartments. Coop and Kaylor had found what appeared to be an operational NX-41 gravity generator in one of the nearby derelicts. They discovered that the problem wouldn’t be installing the huge piece of machinery within the freighter; rather it would be getting it out of its current location. It was embedded within the hull of an old military vessel, with added structural support beams to handle the ship’s mission parameters. It was also the reason grav-gens were less likely to fall into the hands of pirates and scavengers. They were just too damn big to move.

Jym had the operational generator aboard the freighter humming in less than five hours, at which point he moved to his next challenge.

Riyad and Adam stood in the starboard engine room, staring up at the towering bulk in front of them.

“The old generator has to be removed to make room for the new one,” said Jym, stating the obvious.

“And how exactly do we do that?” Adam asked.

“There are release bolts on the outside hull—about ninety of them,” Riyad answered, much to Adam’s surprise. He looked at his friend with a frown.

Riyad shrugged. “Flashbacks to my pirating days,” he said with his trademark smile. “We had to know how to grab what we could as fast as we could. Even still, generators were low on our list.”

“He is right,” Jym said. “The tie-down nuts must be removed and salvaged. I have located a number of tools left aboard that can accomplish the task, but it will involve all of us aboard to remove the outer panel in a reasonable time.”

“Coop and Kaylor are working on getting us a new generator,” Adam pointed out. “The five of us will have to do the job.”

Twenty minutes later, the five remaining team members were dressed in environment suits, with tethers attached to locking rings on the hull, a reciprocating wrench held by each—even Arieel. Sherri could handle herself around a spaceship, but this was all new to the Formilian. Adam got the impression she didn’t even know what a wrench was for. And why would she? She’d spent her entire life in the care of the Temple priests, never having to get her hands dirty.

Adam stepped up to her, his body held to the hull by the magnets in his boots.

“Place the female part over the male nut and bolt,” he instructed her.

“Yes, I understand the concept, but why the gender designations…oh I see.”

“Yeah, it makes sense, at least for most species.”

Arieel matched Adam’s smile through the lens of the helmet.

“The wrench will secure itself around the nut automatically. When the light turns yellow, press the button. There are weights inside that will counter the inertia of the motor. Just don’t change the angle of the wrench while it’s—”

Arieel already had the wrench cap over the bolt, with the yellow light glowing on the control handle. But then she tried to manually turn the unit using the handlebars. The internal counterweights were thrown off and the tool spun out of control. Arieel was thrown off the hull, the force strong enough to break the magnetics in her boots. Adam reached out to grab her but missed. She flew into space until the tether hooked to her utility belt stopped her from tumbling more than fifty feet from the ship.

Adam heard a deep-throated grunt as the cord pulled on her body.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes…I think,” was Arieel’s muted response. Then: “That was exciting!”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. But next time remember to keep the tool in place as the nut is removed. You could have really hurt yourself.”

“Something I will endeavor to prevent in the future.”

Adam smiled. “Good girl. That’s the spirit.”

“Could you now pull me back in? I’m not as adept at spacewalking as are the others…although I am anxious to learn.”

Adam obliged, and within minutes, he felt the vibration through the hull as the five of them began to remove the securing nuts. There were ninety-two in total, and two hours later they had them removed.

Riyad then piloted the Juirean ET ship from the docking bay and attached strong metal cables to the huge hull panel over the generator. Using air propellant rather than the more-powerful chem drive, he slowly pulled the section away, exposing the top of the dead generator. Jym had already removed the deck bolts to the generator, and after the cables were attached to the unit, Riyad pulled it from the ship.

He towed the fifty-foot tall mass of gray metal out a fair distance from the freighter and set it adrift, eventually fated to crash to the surface of the ice-covered moon below.

“All right, Kaylor. The opening’s been made.” Adam relayed through his ATD.

Copernicus and the alien were a hundred miles away, using the turbo-tractors to do a less than aesthetic operation on the hull of the other derelict warship. Huge sections of hull were being pulled back, their securing bolts attached to interior beams being ripped through the metal sheets.

“Almost there. Give us another hour and we’ll be heading back.”

“Excellent. The first round of drinks is on me.”

“Are there intoxicants aboard?” Kaylor asked, his interest piqued. “That would be excellent if that were true.”

* * *

It was.

As would be on the shopping list of any good merchant marine, there were indeed intoxicants programmed into the ship’s food processor. Another benefit of spending years in the cold and vacuum of space was that food stock and liquids didn’t spoil. Instead they froze solid, waiting for the time when they would be called upon again. Therefore, the huge freighter had a fully-stocked food locker and ample refreshments for the weary crew by the time they knocked off for the day.

The second gravity generator hovered outside the ship five hundred yards away, and after some rest and relaxation, the crew would nudge the unit into place and secure the outer hull panel.

As Adam sampled the unnamed alcoholic concoction in his hand, he acknowledged his satisfaction with the day’s work. They were ahead of schedule, and if Coop and his two alien companions could get the new generator installed and running by the end of the next day, they could be off on their search for the elusive Klin.

* * *

Six hours later they were at it again—in spite of the mild hangovers. Riyad was back in the ET, this time gently pushing the NX-41 generator through the narrow opening within the rusted hull of the freighter.

Adam had grown tired of calling the ship the freighter or the ship, and named it the Nautilus, for no other reason than he always liked the word. Nautilus…it just rolled off his tongue.

He received a little flak from Kaylor and Jym who wanted to call it by its hull-designation, LK-23221. Since the bulk of the galaxy didn’t name their ships, that was understandable. But as the leader of the team, Adam insisted they keep the name. He enjoyed his subtle jabs at alien culture and tradition whenever he got the chance.

With Riyad in the ET, the other six team members were dressed in environmental suits manning guide cables attached to pulleys, slowly tugging the generator into place. Gravity had been cut to the entire ship, making the task halfway manageable. But still, the unit was big and bulky. Although he couldn’t hear the scrapping of metal-on-metal through the vacuum of space, Adam did sense the vibration through the deck. It was a tight fit.

The NX-41 generator was fifty feet long by forty feet wide and with a rounded top. There was a ten-foot square cycling unit that attached to the forward end of the generator which linked the unit to the starboard focusing rings. Jym had tested the existing cycling unit and found it be operational. That saved the time and hassle of having to find another one within the hundreds of forgotten starships in the yard. Once both units were in place, it would be Kaylor’s job to align the focusing rings. That was his specialty.

The base of the generator made contact with the deck. The large anchoring bolts missed the corresponding brackets on the machine, requiring a secondary set of cables to be attached perpendicular to the alignment to ease the unit into place. Once aligned, Arieel was the first to go to work locking down the foot-wide nuts onto the protruding bolts, spreading her legs with gusto, the auto-wrench between them and baring down with all her strength, although it wasn’t necessary in zero-g. Adam could hear grunts coming through the comm in his helmet as the Formilian Speaker reveled in the joy of physical labor.

She was just too damn cute, Adam thought, treating many mundane events in life with passion and wonder.

“Good job everyone,” Adam announced through the comm system. “Arieel, Coop, finish locking down the generator. The rest of us will go outside and replace the hull sheet. Lining up ninety-two bolts won’t be easy, so the sooner we get to it, the better.”

Adam’s prediction was prophetic. It had been a cinch removing the nuts from the bolts, but getting them lined up again with the holes in the hull plate proved to be a bear. Either from the process of removing the panel or the natural flexibility of the steel, the team ended up needing to drill twenty additional holes in the metal sheet to get it back in place, adding another two hours to the job. All-in-all, it took twice as long to replace the plate as it did to remove it.

By the time the engine compartment was resealed and pressurized, the team was exhausted and in dire need of some liquid painkiller. Five hours later they were back at it again.

* * *

“The problem is the coupling between the cycling unit and the generator,” Jym was saying. “I will need this side wall removed to make room, and there is a structural member running through the middle of it. I have not been able to locate any charged cutting tools onboard.”

It was only a two-inch variance, but it was enough to prevent the two units from aligning.

“Maybe we could unlock the generator and move it some?” Riyad offered.

Kaylor shook his head. “The generator is where it belongs. It cannot be moved. The problem is the cycling unit. It is a newer model and the NX-41 is slightly older.”

“They are compatible, operationally, I mean?” Adam asked, thinking this was a fine time to disclose this information to him. Could all their efforts have been for naught?

“They are compatible,” Kaylor answered. “Only the housing changed, which is at the root of our problem.”

“And no cutting torches aboard?”

“None with fuel.”

Adam looked at Copernicus. “Do you think we can find any fuel or charged cutters within the shipyard?”

“Probably,” he answered. “Kaylor and I can take the tractors out and start looking. We’ll have to enter every ship and search for something small. It’s not like looking for a hulking generator. It’ll take time.”

“I don’t think we have an option.”

“Roger that.”

Adam looked around at the rest of the team. There wasn’t much they could do until the generator was linked with the focusing rings. He shrugged. Looked like another session of painkiller was in order, whether they needed it or not.

6

Adam Cain was about to make an executive decision, that of banning alcohol from the Nautilus. The former crew of the freighter had been connoisseurs of the stuff and only stocked the best. Throughout the years, Adam had never acquired a taste for alien spirits, but he was in the process of overcoming that handicap. But the team had a mission to accomplish, and walking around with perpetual hangovers wasn’t helping. So either he could ban the evil substance…or simply consume it all before the mission officially got underway.

Who said command decisions were easy?

It was through the fog of inebriation that he sensed the objects moving outside the ship. At first he thought they were just echoes within his ATD, until he realized he’d never experienced echoes within his ATD. There was something in space outside the ship—a number of somethings—and they were giving off energy signals.

Adam was sure none of the others detected the objects; his heightened awareness was beyond their capabilities. He focused on the objects, now numbering nineteen and coming toward the stern of the Nautilus. Courses were corrected, indicating intelligent control, after which it didn’t take him long to identify the objects: individual gas-reaction space pods, with living beings inside…and each armed with charged energy weapons.

He wasn’t worried. The nineteen space pirates were about to go up against five ATD-equipped adversaries—Kaylor and Coop were still out looking for a cutting tool. He hadn’t received any warning from them concerning pirates in the vicinity, so he assumed they were safe.

With a groan and tired reluctance, Adam lifted himself off the old cloth-covered couch in the huge common room aboard the Nautilus. Gravity had been restored throughout the ship—fortunately at a level compatible to the aliens aboard—but still it was a struggle to get his body moving. Yes: An alcohol ban was definitely called for.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he said to the near-comatose occupants of the room, “but it looks like we have to go back to work.”

“Did bay blind a fucking tool?” Jym asked, slurring the words in his native language so badly that the translation program mangled the sentence.

“That’s not it,” Adam said. He was now in a standing position, even as the force of gravity played tricks with his balance. One would think that with a colony of mutant brain cells in his head, he would be immune to intoxication. Not so. In fact, he seemed to react even quicker to the drinks, probably a result of this body converting the alcohol at a more-efficient rate. “There’s a group of pirates about to board the ship. We may have to do something about that.”

A few bloodshot eyes looked over at him. “Can’t you handle it yourself?” Sherri moaned. “I think if I move I might vomit.”

“Just cut their life support systems,” Riyad offered, followed by a loud alcohol-scented burp.

“I would, but I’m thinking the weapons they carry might come in handy. We have something like four MK’s between the seven of us.”

“Perhaps we should have resupplied before leaving Formil,” Arieel said. Of all the team members, she had the least experience with intoxicants, yet with her new-found sense of adventure, she had jumped at the chance to make up for lost time. Adam was surprised she was still conscious.

“I will go bit you, Atom Cain,” Jym slurred. “I shall be anxious to confront an opponent with my nude brain….” His voice trailed off.

Although the new ATD recipients had been training on how to disarm a flash weapon with their minds, Adam wasn’t sure Jym had the necessary skill. Probing around inside an MK could be dangerous.

“There are nineteen of them,” Adam reported.

“So?” Sherri moaned. “Not enough of a challenge?”

“C’mon. We just got this tub put back together. I don’t want a bunch of scavengers picking her apart again.”

Riyad began to stir, as did Jym. Arieel had finally passed out, and Sherri did vomit when she tried to move from the couch.

Adam looked at his two male companions—one alien, one Human. “Well boys, it looks like it’s up to us to repeal boarders. The pirates are about to enter the aft cargo hold.”

The trio stepped into the long spine corridor of the freighter, cursing now at the long length of the ship. Adam tracked the movement of the pirates through their weapon’s energy signatures. They had consolidated at the rear of the ship. They would make a sweep of the interior, eliminating any resistance, before stripping the ship of its valuables. Adam had located the mothership; it was six hundred miles away, lost in the cluster of broken starships. Apparently they had been watching the team’s rehab progress and were now ready to take what they could. The pickings would be slim, but in these austere times, anything was better than nothing.

“The pirate ship,” Jym began, “could we not take that for our mission to find the Klin?” He had sobered up some, at least to the point where his sentences were translating properly.

Adam had already done a quick ATD scan of the pirate ship, something Jym hadn’t learned to do. “It’s a short-range vessel, not much more than a tow truck with a couple of 60’s flash cannon. It wouldn’t get us far.”

Just then, they came upon the point lead of the pirate force. Adam reached instinctively for his MK. It wasn’t there. He’d left the common room without bringing his weapon. He looked at the others. They were unarmed as well.

It was probably this fact that kept the two pirates from firing first and asking questions later. They had their hand weapons pulled and leveled at the trio.

“I took care of the one on the left,” Riyad reported. This meant he had nullified the energy weapon held by the pirate, separating the battery charge from the firing controls.

“Let me do the other one!” Jym exclaimed.

Immediately, a low hum began to emanate from the weapon held by the pirate to their right. The alien lifted the gun to his face, curious about the never before heard sound coming from his MK.

Adam and Riyad knew immediately what it was. Jym had severed the wrong connection within the gun, cutting the firing circuit while leaving the battery input still open. The MK-17 was building up to a critical mass, where upon it would explode with the force of a hand grenade.

Adam stepped forward, pulling back his right arm before whipping his hand forward in a sweeping motion. The pirate and his bleating weapon were flung down the corridor by an invisible force, sliding along the deck before the weapons exploded in a flash of smoke and hot concussion.

The other pirate was close enough to take the brunt of the explosion, killing him instantly.

The roiling cloud of heat and flame raced up the corridor. Adam didn’t have time to use his mutant-enhanced body to cover Riyad or Jym. Together all three were blasted along the smooth metal deck, eventually coming to a rest twenty feet from where they had been standing.

Adam was the first to his feet.

“Are you all right?”

Jym’s fur was smoking, but he appeared to be okay. Riyad rolled off his stomach and glared at Jym. He didn’t have to say a word; Jym understood the look.

“Wrong connection?” the tiny alien asked.

Riyad nodded.

Adam helped them to their feet. “Next time, let us handle the weapons. You just watch our backs.”

“Is there something unusual your backs will be doing?” Jym asked sincerely, confused.

“They’ll be in front of you, that’s what,” Riyad barked.

More pirates rushed into the corridor, drawn by the sound and fury of the exploding MK. Riyad and Adam disarmed all their weapons before a single bolt could be released. Next they had to contend with seventeen screaming aliens—made up of five different species—as they rushed the pair of Humans, resorting to hand-to-hand combat now that their weapons were inoperative.

As arms flailed and bones broke, an MK-17 slid across the deck and came to rest in front of Jym. He hesitated picking it up.

Adam blocked an alien fist before glancing back at Jym. “Go ahead,” he yelled. “I reactivated the firing circuits.”

Jym snatched up the weapon and began picking off the few pirates that were left standing. Ten seconds later, the corridor was quiet and still, except for a swirling residual smoke cloud hovering near the ceiling panels.

Adam watched as Jym casually walked through the maze of dead aliens until he reached the end of the hallway. There was a hole blasted in the right side wall. Jym turned to the two Humans and smiled.

“It appears we no longer need the cutting tool. This will do nicely.”

* * *

By the time Copernicus and Kaylor returned to the Nautilus they’d already been briefed about the pirate attack via ATD. But they weren’t prepared for what they saw when they entered the common room to find Adam sitting in a chair, facing a semi-circle of his grim-faced teammates.

Kaylor pulled a chair up next to Jym before sniffing his still smoking fur. He moved the chair a few feet away and sat down.

Coop pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I saw the hole in the wall and the pile of dead aliens in the hallway. Other than that, what did we miss?”

Sherri glared at him. “Why don’t you ask mister I-keep-secrets-from-the-rest-of-the-team, mister man type guy. You know what I mean!”

“You mean Adam?”

“Of course I mean Adam,” she snapped at her boyfriend. She turned back to stare at their leader. “Go ahead; you were about to explain….”

Adam tried to smile, but it came off as a smirk. “Okay, first of all, I wasn’t keeping secrets. It just hadn’t come up, yet.”

“What hadn’t?” Coop asked.

For an answer, Adam turned his attention to Sherri. “Can you create a static electricity ball for me?” he asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just humor me. Can you?”

“I used to. I haven’t made one since I got the new ATD.”

“Go ahead, try.”

Sherri took a deep breath before placing her hands out in front of her, palms parallel and about eight inches apart. Her forehead furrowed as she concentrated. A few seconds later, tiny sparkles of light were seen in the space between her hands. A moment later, the light had condensed to a marble-size ball of crackling blue and white electricity.

“There…are you satisfied?”

“I am,” Adam replied. “Now watch this.”

He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, a sparkling ball of electricity, twice the size and intensity of Sherri’s, popped into existence. There was no tell-tale sign of accumulating charges. One moment there was nothing, the next a cracking globe of energy.

“So what? You’re better at making electricity balls than I am.”

“I discovered my latest power—for lack of a better word—when I was on my way back from Tactoria a couple of weeks ago. So you see, this is all new to me as well.”

“What new power?” Copernicus asked.

“Levitation,” Sherri answered. “The bastard can levitate things now.”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Adam defended. “It just saved our lives.” He swept a hand at Riyad and Jym.

“What do static electricity balls have to do with levitation?” Coop asked. “We’ve all seen you make the sparkling ornaments before. They’re nothing new.”

“It seems Panur’s brain cells can make my ATD do things I didn’t know it could,” Adam began. “When I was bored during the trip, I started playing with the balls—”

Someone in the crowd snickered.

Adam continued: “I noticed I had a lot more control over them than before, and was able to call up several at a time. Then in my mind’s eye—looking with the aid of the ATD—I noticed how the static electricity was able to create wispy ribbons of light blue air currents. The more I played with them, the more I found I could control the currents. After a while I was able to compress the air into near-solid sheets, ribbons, bands—whatever you want to call them. With practice, I could to wrap these bands around solid objects…and move them.”

“Bullshit,” Coop replied.

“No really, watch.”

Adam focused on a cup of liquid—probably alcohol of some kind—sitting in front of Sherri. The container was made of a recyclable form of plastic used aboard most starships. Within his mind’s eye he saw swirls of light blue circulating near the cup. Then the color intensified as the bands wrapped around the container. It rose up about five inches…before being crushed by the strength of the compressed air around it. Liquid exploded into Sherri’s lap, causing her to jump to her feet.

“Dammit!”

“Sorry…I’m still learning how to control it. Let me try something else.”

Next he focused on a harder plastic tray used to carry food and drink from the processing station. To Adam, the tray was shrouded in the light blue light. To everyone else, it simply hovered in air until Adam made it slowly rotate. With his mind, he gently set the tray back on the table.

“I want to learn how to do that!” Jym exclaimed. “Teach me.”

“I don’t think I can,” Adam said. “I think it’s the mutant brain cells that make it possible.”

“That is not fair! You seem to have all the best abilities, although I should be able to make the static electricity balls….” Jym placed his hands in parallel and began to concentrate.

“Well, damn,” Coop said. “Jym’s right; too bad the rest of us can’t do that. It could come in handy during the mission.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s cool that at least one of us can do it.” He looked over his shoulder. “Now…I’m wondering if you could use your new superpower to clean out the corridor? All those dead bodies are beginning to create quite a stink.”

7

Adam opted for the old fashion method of alien body disposal. After gathering the weapons, he took a motorized cart from one of the cargo holds and stacked the bodies five high before dumping them out the back of the ship.

Two pirates had remained aboard their ship, but they’d bugged out after seeing the life-sign monitors for the boarding party wink out. Nineteen dead pirates meant they’d obviously bitten off more than they could chew by attacking the old freighter. The survivors weren’t looking for any retribution for the loss of their comrades. It was a wise decision.

Once the bodies were jettisoned, Adam went to the starboard engine room to check on the progress of the cycling unit install. The metal casing fit well into the hole created by the MK blast, and Kaylor, Riyad and Coop had moved the heavy piece of machinery to the forward end of the generator and were attempting to lift it into place.

“Ah, just in time,” Riyad said as Adam entered the room. “We were just getting ready to cut the gravity again, but seeing that you’re here, you can just lift the cycling unit into place with your mind.”

“That’s pretty big. I’ve never lifted something that big before.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” Riyad sent Adam one of his trademark smiles.

“C’mon, hotshot, give it a try,” Coop prompted.

“Sure, why not?”

Adam stood back so he could grab all the air in the room he could. The blue swirls returned, this time longer and wider. He concentrated on the underside of the ten-foot square module and the light began to accumulate there. The unit began to move. He was doing it.

Just then, Kaylor gasped for breath, followed a moment later by Coop and Riyad. Eyes bulged and hands grasped vein-pulsing necks. All three crumbled to the deck.

Adam was the next to feel the rush of air from his lungs. His mutant brains cells responded to his distress, allowing him to stay conscious longer than the others. He let his mind drop the cycling unit, releasing the compressed air under it to flow back into the room.

Kaylor and the three Humans recovered quickly, coughing and leaning back against the bulkhead, trying to figure out what just happened.

“Don’t tell me,” Riyad gagged. “You sucked all the air out of the room to lift the unit.”

Adam was rattled himself, but not like the others. He nodded. “Another good thing to know, I guess. Like they say: Live and learn.”

“With an emphasis on live, my friend,” Riyad added.

* * *

After the many distractions and interruptions, the freighter was just about ready to go. The cycling unit was connected to the NX-41 generator with power lines attached. Monitors and gauges were running and everything seemed in order.

The next phase called for Kaylor to align the eight focusing rings—four for each generator. They were located in a compartment under the bridge and focused the gravity-mass waves at a point in space about seventy miles in front of the ship—hence the name focusing rings. The waves would almost instantaneously build upon themselves in a dynamo effect before reaching the point where a miniature blackhole was created, along with its accompanying event horizon. The freighter would fall toward the singularity, before the blackhole would dissolve and be replaced with another, also seventy miles from the ship. This all took place in a fraction of a second. Pretty soon even the mightiest of starships could move through space using this technique; always falling towards oblivion, yet never able to reach it.

Kaylor was relieved to find that the focusing rings were easily accessible aboard the freighter, not like they were with his old muleship, the FS-475. That ship had been poorly designed, with the placement of the focusing rings almost an after-thought. Yet without focusing rings, it wasn’t a starship. The skewed thinking of the ship’s designers still upset him to this day.

Over the past couple of days Kaylor had already done a number of surveys of the ring compartment. He knew that at one point in the long history of the freighter something had hit the ship, damaging a number of the coupling stations. This was hard to do to this part of the ship. Normally, the singularities cleared the path ahead, sucking everything in the way into the event horizon. Whatever hit the ship had streaked in at an oblique angle, tearing out a pair of focusing rings in the process. Repairs had been made—sort of—at least enough to keep the ship operating for a few more years. After repeated breakdowns, the freighter had been retired to some unnamed planet where it rusted for several years before being moved to the orbiting starship graveyard.

Two of the main coupling brackets showed signs of the haphazard nature of the repairs. On his first day aboard the freighter, Kaylor began making more permanent and modern improvements to the coupling units. He was a master at utilizing whatever he had available, and a ship this big provided the Belsonian with ample spare parts. He cannibalized whole sections of a transport system attached to the bulkhead of a cargo hold and managed to shape the necessary coupling brackets in the ship’s damage control workshop. He took great pride in his handiwork, even as Adam chided him, saying they only needed the ship to operate for a couple months. This wasn’t going to be a permanent addition to the Cain fleet—a fleet which, by the way, didn’t exist.

Yet Kaylor didn’t do anything halfway.

There were plenty of spare focusing rings in the supply compartment; unfortunately, many had collected a thick layer of dust when a section of the hull rusted away sometime in the past. Kaylor had to clean the lenses before they could be installed, being careful not to scratch the glass. Even still, several had to be discarded because of pitting on their surfaces.

Four of the existing rings were good. Kaylor had replaced two others, and now had the final two with him as he walked along the curved passageway, lined on his left with periodic ring stations.

He twisted a release lever and pulled out the sled that held the ring components. The new focusing ring was dropped in and pressed into a locking position. He closed the compartment before turning to the alignment controls placed on the wall.

Send power to number seven, he said through his ATD. By now, the team was comfortable communicating through their brain interface devices; it was easier and didn’t require any additional equipment. The problem came from revealing too much information through their thoughts. Copernicus was still trying to make up with Sherri after transmitting some rather lurid observations about Arieel on an open thought. He still had a ways to go to perfect his telepathy technique.

Routing power now, Jym answered in Kaylor’s mind.

The panel lit up and Kaylor began to fine tune the focusing ring alignment, bringing the sine waves into sync, while also adjusting the target angle. This was much easier than he was used to. Having ample space to work was definitely an advantage.

When he was satisfied with the alignment of ring #7, he closed and locked the sled before moving to #6.

This ring station had provided him the most challenge with the new coupling brackets. It had taken the most direct hit from the rogue projectile and therefore needed the most reconstruction. When he inserted the new focusing ring and snapped it into place, he got an immediate red-light notice on his monitoring datapad.

I am at number six. The wobble is beyond tolerance.

Understood, came Jym’s mental response. What are you going to do?

Not sure. I do not want to rebuild the unit; that would take too much time.

Is it peripheral or lateral? Jym asked

Lateral…wait, I have an idea.

Kaylor flipped the monitoring datapad over so he could see the backside. A small panel covered the battery compartment. With his thumb, he removed the panel and placed the two-inch-by-one-inch piece of plastic along the left side of the ring channel, giving a final push to secure it in place.

Checking the still-operating datapad, he was happy to see the light shift to yellow—an indicator that the ring was stable and within tolerances.

Activate power to the ring, he commanded.

You fixed it?

Apparently. It should hold for a while.

And that’s how a five-hundred-foot-long intergalactic star freighter—a vessel that harnessed the unimaginable power of blackholes—got its groove back.

* * *

Like most things that take place over a galaxy-size area, it was another case of hurry up and wait.

Once the freighter was flight-tested and ready for faster-than-light travel, Kaylor placed the vessel within a deep gravity-well for the two-month-long journey to the starting point of the Klin invasion of the Milky Way. After a frenetic three days getting the ship ready, the team had nothing but down time now before reaching their destination.

Kaylor steered the large craft above the ecliptic so to avoid a transit directly through the Klin cone of conquest. He and Jym spent the bulk of their time learning the finer aspects of the ship’s flight systems. After reconciling with Sherri, Coop was enjoying the personal tutelage of the two females aboard as they continued to give him a crash course in ATD operation. Adam got the impression he was learning faster than he let on, just to keep the women fawning over him.

Adam spent most of his time with Riyad, each trying to outdo the other with dire scenarios about their current mission. When not so engaged, he was in his compartment perfecting his new superpower.

More than any ‘power’ he’d acquired to date, he was getting the most kick out of his power of telekinesis. Since he’d learned a valuable lesson from the episode in the engine compartment, he was anxious to try out his abilities on a planet, where there was ample atmosphere to play with. He snickered when it dawned on him that even the real Superman didn’t have this power—not that he could remember.

It didn’t matter. He had the power now and it was giving him a more confident outlook on the mission—despite the game he and Riyad were playing.

During the journey the team kept up on galactic affairs by tapping into open broadcasts or through Adam’s sources back on Earth. Even though they were on an officially-sanctioned mission, he was told unofficially they were on their own. Various authorities had been ordered not to provide direct support to the team lest the Klin equate their activities with those of the Advisory Council. Adam smirked. It seemed the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

It was while watching one of these bootleg broadcasts that Adam’s worst fears were realized….

8

Simon McAuliffe was a Human.

Dzin Ra Moralan was a Juirean.

And if hadn’t been for the presence of the other six strategic planners in the room, the two may have gone to blows.

Whether or not the argument escalated to a physical altercation was up to the Juirean Overlord. McAuliffe had done some boxing in his younger days as a Navy lieutenant junior-grade, and now in his mid-fifties, he’d maintained his rugged good looks and wiry build. In the light gravity of Formil, the Juirean wouldn’t have stood a chance against the Human, and Dzin knew it. This fact only made the alien more furious. Juireans didn’t cow down to anyone—unless they knew it was a losing battle.

But now the two were engaged in a battle of words—a conflict more conducive to the two of them leaving the room alive.

“It is premature,” Dzin yelled. Juireans didn’t normally express their anger with such verbal intensity. Except for an occasional primal battle cry, they were usually soft spoken, yet clear with their meaning. “There is no evidence the Klin have changed strategy.”

McAuliffe gripped the datapad tightly in his right hand. Had it been a stack of papers instead of an electronic device, he would have tossed it across the table at the obstinate alien. “Seven breaches beyond the plane of their most recent advance, and you do don’t call that evidence?”

“The opening of the advancement cone has widened to the point where they must pick their targets with more care,” the Juirean stated. “This has caused their attacks to take on a more ragged appearance.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

The Juirean sat back down in his chair, prompting the red-faced Human to do the same. There was a visible show of relief from the others in the room.

“As the Klin have advanced, they have come in contact with an ever-increasing number of Expansion worlds,” the Juirean said. “If they follow their customary thoroughness, they would have to suppress ninety-four worlds at their present position before moving on. They obviously do not have the resources to do this—not yet. So they are selecting specific worlds, and I might point out, accepting capitulation from a higher percentage of those they approach. Worlds that would have normally been destroyed are being passed by, absorbed into Klin territory, either to be left alone or dealt with at a future date. The strategy is sound.”

McAuliffe looked to his left and the huge wall-size display screen. It showed the expanse of the Klin invasion, from its single point to the cone now measuring a thousand light-years across. Along the widest plane of attack were the ninety-four worlds the Juirean had mentioned. Only thirty-two had been targeted by the Klin, with nine accepted surrenders. That left a lot of planets awaiting a verdict from the Klin as to their ultimate fate. This was also the first surge the Klin had made where they didn’t gobble up every Expansion world in range.

To Simon McAuliffe, the message was clear: The Klin were beginning to accelerate their penetration into the Expansion, making all the planners’ timetables obsolete. It also meant the time for action was now, and not twenty years in the future.

Yet the Juirean and his faction didn’t accept this. They still believed they had time. McAuliffe didn’t. He wanted the allies to attack, and attack now. And every day they delayed put the Klin that much closer to the precious core worlds of both the Expansion and the Union.

Dzin locked eyes with the Human. “If we follow your recommendation we will certainly upset the plans of the Klin. The Juirean people know this enemy better than you. They are methodical and rarely amend a mission once it has been implemented. Only a major event—like an attack on one of their manufacturing worlds—will disrupt it. Your actions would guarantee a reworking of their mission parameters.”

McAuliffe pushed back in his chair and surveyed the faces of the other top-brass planners, all military personnel or technicians who specialized in strategic operations. He knew several were on his side, and had been since the beginning. With each passing surge in Klin activity they came to him demanding that something be done. They couldn’t sit by while the galaxy was being systemically absorbed by the silver-skinned aliens.

Dzin and his smaller block were preventing McAuliffe from putting his plan into motion. But today was the day the Human would get his way. He had called for a vote of the planners…knowing he had the votes in his pocket. The current bloviating from both sides was more a way of venting frustration than to change anyone’s mind. The attack was going to take place, and within twenty-two days from the close of the meeting.

* * *

The planet was called G-nin Bor, and it had been a small regional capital before the Klin overran the area. Much to the relief of the natives, their offer of surrender had been accepted, after which half-a-million robots arrived, along with a contingent of eighty Klin to help convert much of the planet’s manufacturing capacity to the production of more killer robots. Construction also began on two more of the huge black starships. For seven months the factories and crews worked around the clock, to the point where eighty thousand robots rolled off the production lines each day, and the skeletal ribs of the invincible spaceships could be seen in orbit by those with sharp eyes.

Some of the allies wanted to make a strike against a planet with a less developed Klin presence, like the recent surrenders. McAuliffe argued for a more established planet, one that was producing a sizeable number of robots and whose loss would be noticed by the Klin. His argument won out in the end.

It was a curious—yet fortunate—consequence of the Klin invasion that most of the worlds they either conquered or absorbed had virtually no security around them. Once a planet was invaded by killer robots, ships were free to come and go as they pleased. Some brought relief provisions, while others came to take the survivors away, possibly never to return to their homeworld again.

On those that were allowed to surrender, it was remarkably easy to get spies on site, as well as the establishment of communications with the Expansion. Because of the abundance of intelligence coming out of G-nin Bor, McAuliffe and his commanders had overwhelming confidence in their attack plan and the possibility of success.

Yet as a master tactician, Simon McAuliffe didn’t accept an anticipated outcome without careful consideration. The question that bothered the allies was why did the Klin leave these worlds so unprotected? He had an answer. With more than enough worlds offering to join the Klin cause, planets in the rear of the advance were expendable. More would be brought in to replace those repatriated by the allies, with manufacturing taking place closer to the front.

That was the reason McAuliffe wasn’t surprised when his fleet of four hundred eighteen ships met no resistance when it entered the G-nin Bor system. Defenders from the planet were non-existent. The native Sumerlins—as they called themselves—had never had much of a military of their own. They didn’t need one. They had been part of the Expansion. And the black ships of the Klin were in service elsewhere, either delivering a rain of killer robots on helpless worlds, or intimidating others into accepting unconditional terms of surrender.

McAuliffe had a clear shot at the planet.

* * *

Simon McAuliffe didn’t need to be with the allied fleet. He was a planner and no one would have questioned it if he’d stayed on Formil. In fact it was unusual that he would be with them at all. But he was also a man of ambition. If this attack came off as planned—and the Klin were stung by it—Simon McAuliffe would be the first person to score an effective hit on the invaders. More attacks would follow—in fact a whole flood of them—designed to eliminate the Klin’s ability to make war. This was the beginning of the end for the invaders, and it would be McAuliffe and his fleet leading the way.

After that, the sky would be the limit for Simon McAuliffe, the Savior of the Milky Way.

G-nin Bor was the fourth planet from the M-class star at the center of the system. It was a typical Expansion member world: Juirean-standard gravity, oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and carbon-based Prime natives. It was rated an H-class for technology, which placed it one level below the most advanced.

The fleet swept past the fifth planet in the system—a smaller ringed world—before entering the Nin-void, a wide stretch of space forty million miles across. The ships of the fleet began to deploy, each with specific land-based targets to concentrate on. A billion or more Sumerlins would die as hell rained down upon them from orbit. It was a steep price to pay for joining the Klin, but worth it if the advance could be stopped with their sacrifice.

The fleet had just passed the million mile mark out from the planet when the first laser beams shot up from the surface. These were pulse lasers, which over the distance they traveled appeared more like impossibly long arrows of white light passing through space. Traveling at nearly the speed of light, the beams reached their targets less than six seconds later.

Simon McAuliffe was in the command ship, still five million miles out, when the attack began. The bridge crew erupted into action, coordinating defensive actions. Contingency plans had been drawn up in the event of a surface defense, such as the one they were now facing. It had always been a possibility, but McAuliffe was shocked by the intensity of the beams.

They appeared to be coming from three distinct points on the surface, located at equal distance around the planet. From these locations, the entire world could be defended against a space-borne attack, even as ships lower in the atmosphere would find shelter from the curvature of the globe.

Operational commanders gave the order: Bolt for the atmosphere to get under the defenses.

As three hundred ships activated small maneuvering gravity-wells, the intensity of the laser arrows increased ten-fold. From space, it looked as though the most spectacular fireworks show of all time had just begun. But at the end each one of the radiating shafts of light was a damaged allied starship.

With ample surface-based power, the Klin lasers kept firing, until individual allied starships broke off and made for the safety of far-distant space. Deep gravity-wells were engaged, even from within the upper levels of the G-nin Bor atmosphere. Other ships, damaged by the unstoppable laser beams, began to break apart and fall toward the surface, leaving fiery trails of debris in their wake.

The retreat order was given without Simon McAuliffe’s input. A hundred scattered ships fled the vicinity of G-nin Bor. Not a single bolt or bomb from their weapons bays or turrets had been released, let alone make it to the surface of the planet. It was a total rout—and it was about to get worst.

“Ship on screen, Captain!” a member of the bridge crew yelled. A Castorian named A’mock Rin was the captain of the ship and senior commander of the allied fleet. He wore a small breathing tube attached to his nose; an accommodation to the majority of the crew that didn’t require the breathing supplement. He looked over at a pale Simon McAuliffe.

“It is a Klin delivery vessel, approaching from out-system.”

“Don’t fire on them!” the Human yelled, in even more of a panic. “The ship is harmless unless their weapons are charged.”

“That we have briefed,” the alien growled. His stern expression and gruff voice broadcast his disrespect for the Human. McAuliffe’s plan to attack the Klin had turned out to be a total bust. Now all A’mock Rin wanted to do was get the rest of his decimated fleet to safety.

“The Klin ship has launched a missile,” reported the same crew member as before.

All eyes turned to the master tac screen to watch a line of energy separate from the tail of the six-mile long Klin warship. What happened next, no one was expecting.

A bright ball of blue and white light burst forth in the black of space, spreading out to form the distinctive ball of a nuclear explosion. Gigantic ribbons of electric blue energy coursed through the growing globe. A second later, the Klin ship was engulfed by the explosion.

Nothing could be seen inside the massive ball of fire, not until a million-mile long beam of intense white light shot from the roiling mass of radioactive fire. By the time light and nuclear heat began to dissipate, the Klin ship had already made its turn and was heading for the concentration of allied vessels around the flagship.

The huge beam of energy streaming from the Klin ship changed direction, now aimed at the remains of Captain Rin’s fleet. Dozens of other beams shot out from hull turrets, also targeting the Expansion warships.

Simon McAuliffe’s last living act before his ship was turned to mince-metal by the Klin laser weapons was to report back to Formil the results of his failed mission. The Klin not only had powerful land-based defenses, but they had also anticipated his attack in time to bring a black ship on station. But worse than that, the enemy had used a nuclear weapon to charge their own weapons. These ships should no longer be considered harmless-unless-provoked. They were killers in their own right.

By the end of the campaign, only nineteen ships out of a fleet of four hundred eighteen made it back to Formil.

Now the galaxy waited to see what the Klin would do next….

9

The starting point of the Klin invasion of the Milky Way could easily be traced to the planet Anbor-Namin, where Adam and his team were taken in the black ship before managing to escape to the surface. The Klin had been on their way to the planet when they heard Adam was being held on a Nuorean-controlled world to too far off their track. They changed course in hopes of capturing their Public Enemy #1. Afterward, they resumed their mission and turned Anbor-Namin in a smoking pile of burned out buildings and unfathomable death and suffering.

For Adam and his team, the planet was a good starting point. It was the focus of the cone of conquest, as he’d come to call the Klin’s offensive action. Beyond Anbor-Namin and reaching toward the outer edge of the galaxy, lay an area of unclaimed territory where the dregs of the galaxy settled. It was similar to the Kidis Frontier or the Radis, only smaller and even more savage. With the indiscriminate introduction of star travel hundreds of years before, primitive beasts with no business having such technology were free to roam the region, using entire planets as hunting grounds, both for food and trophies. The region was still recovering from the devastation. As a result, most worlds had loose militias to protect what was theirs, even if what was theirs had been someone else’s only a few years before.

It was a logical place for the Klin to begin their assault on the Expansion. No one in their right mind would enter the region without an army behind them…or an ATD embedded under their skin.

* * *

“What the hell’s wrong with the air?” Sherri asked, her nose pressed against the round canopy of the Juirean Express Transit vehicle. “It’s purple.”

“The computer says it’s safe to breathe.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like purple; it’s one of my favorite colors. Just not in the air I’m breathing.”

It was odd, Adam admitted; a purple haze in the atmosphere, and not a reflection from outer space. This stuff swirled in light patches everywhere. It wasn’t a particulate, because it never settled on surfaces. It was a gas of some kind combined with the standard mix of oxygen and nitrogen.

Riyad, are you in position? Adam asked through his ATD.

If you’re asking are we in orbit, just waiting to be attacked by pirates, sure. About a dozen small ships are in the area sniffing around, wondering what we’re carrying in our ample cargo holds. I have to keep shifting position before someone gets the courage to come in for a look.

Have Arieel keep an eye on them. If need be, she can shut down their engines. We’re about to head to the town. I’ll try to keep the channel open so you can hear what’s going on.

How about just give me the highlights. Having a running conversation going on in the back of my mind is a little freaky and distracting.

Roger that, Adam thought, smiling. Here we go….

* * *

Adam had to blink several times before his eyes adjusted to the strange color of the air. It was darker than normal—as was expected—but not much. It only took a couple of minutes before he and Sherri became acclimated.

The planet was called Rasnon-4 on the charts, but the inhabitants called it Borlac—the local word for their concept of Hell. It wasn’t that the planet was hot or desolate; it was actually a pleasant place with lush green forests and beautiful blue seas. The name had to be reflection of the people who lived here. Just on the short walk to the border of the port—there was no fence surrounding the landing field—Adam identified nineteen different species, with none more prominent than the other. It was impossible to tell which one was the indigenous race—if there even was one.

As usual, it wasn’t so much the presence of the Humans that caused the stir, but rather the beefy-looking starship they arrived in. Juirean ETs were rare even in the Expansion. Out here it was a good bet no one had ever seen one before.

Adam activated an external security shield, which hopefully would keep most of the curious away. He shrugged. He’d done this countless times before with other starships. It never worked then; why would he think it would work here?

If the Klin had once used this planet as a staging area for their robot invasion of the Expansion, the locals would know about it. This wasn’t a planet where people settled down for good. They moved around constantly. Ship’s crews would know everything that’s going on throughout the region. And they could all be found in any of the numerous local dive-bars located outside the grounds of the spaceport.

The place was a shithole, with every building they passed in immediate need of serious repair. And bums lay sleeping—or dead—on the dirt sidewalk, while piles of garbage and dried feces were everywhere. Adam had experienced some nasty places in his life—some on Earth—but this one topped his list of the most-offensive.

Sherri and Adam passed several hole-in-the-wall establishments before coming to one that actually had a lighted sign and a series of intact windows, giving a hint as to the size of the bar.

They stepped inside and were immediately hit with a blast of fresh-smelling air from a vent in the ceiling. This came as a shock, since most spacer-bars throughout the galaxy dealt with the pungent smell of their patrons by not dealing with the situation at all. This place attempted to head off the offensive mix of odors before it became a problem. Adam was impressed.

The interior was also brighter than he expected, although the purple tint was omnipresent. They took a table near the left-side wall and sat down, immediately placing their fingers in the blood sampling box attached to the tabletop.

An alien with a face full of short spikes came up to the table, dragging a useless leg behind him while using a small wheeled crutch attached to his shoulder to move across the wooden floor.

“Humans, you are,” he said as he hovered near the table. “I have seen your kind here before, but rarely. Mostly from the vids do have I experience. I am Vosbin. I am the owner of this feed station.”

Adam nodded and stretched out a thin grin, careful not to expose his teeth too much. This was the kind of place where death challenges were taken seriously.

“Nice to meet you, Vosbin. I’m impressed with your…station, especially the vent at the front door.”

“I do it for my own comfort, as well as my customers. If I must work here, I do not wish to be exposed to the scent of others.”

“Understood. What intoxicants do you recommend?”

The alien checked a datapad he carried in his hand, which would by now display the blood signature of the Humans. “A number three is compatible. None of my other Human customers have complained.”

“And we need something to eat,” Sherri added. “I’m starving.”

“A bowl of cooked critchens, I would recommend. It is a local meat with a sauce seasoning. Again, Humans have eaten it in the past without dying.”

Adam didn’t know if the alien was being facetious or factual—probably both. Either way, he liked Vosbin.

“Very good. We will follow your recommendations.”

After the alien left, Sherri and Adam surveyed the room. Most eyes were upon them. There were about thirty creatures, most in clusters at the tables or as individuals at the ubiquitous counter. Most of the customers looked away when meeting the eyes of the Humans; a few didn’t. This was expected.

So what next? Sherri asked in his mind.

First we eat; I’m hungry, too. Then we step it up a notch.

We’re not here really looking for the Klin, you know, Sherri reminded him. We’re here to get noticed so the Klin will find us.

I think we’ve accomplished that. I detected a substantial uptick in comm links the moment we walked in. Someone’s getting the word out.

A moment later, Vosbin arrived with their drinks and bowl of steaming meat, looking like chicken fingers in a thick, dark sauce. It smelled good, which was an added benefit of the neutral odors in the room; Adam could actually smell the food.

Sherri beat him to the bowl, using her fingers to pull a strip from the pile. She blew on her fingers—the meat was hot—before snipping off an end with her teeth. Cautiously, she let the meat reach her tongue. She raised her eyebrows.

“Damn…that’s good.”

“Tastes like chicken, right?”

“No, beef mostly. Try one.

Ten minutes later they ordered another round of drinks and another helping of the meat. Adam was wolfing down the food with reckless abandon.

“I’m hungry all the time,” he said. “It’s really a bitch.”

“I think your increased metabolism has something to do with that,” Sherri—the former veterinary student—remarked. “When your mutant brain cells have your body working at a higher level, you’re burning calories at an accelerated rate.”

“But I’m normal now.”

“Maybe, maybe not. You’re probably always right on the edge, possibly a defense mechanism.”

“You could be right. But right now I want some more of those finger-licking-good critchens. I wonder if they have franchise opportunities available? These would be a hit back on Earth.”

The humor was genuine and welcomed, causing the two Humans to relax, forgetting for a moment the critical nature of their mission. When Vosbin returned a few minutes later, Adam laid a pair of one hundred Juirean credit chips on the table.

“That is far too much,” the alien said.

“Keep it,” Adam said. “But I was wondering if you could help us out?”

The spikes on the alien face turned hard, a reaction Adam could only suspect was anger. “I am a station owner. I try to avoid such overtures as they may bring harm to some of my patrons over others. By remaining neutral and uninvolved, I survive.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“If it is worth that many credits, it is something I do not want to involve myself with. There are others here who might help, but not me.”

“I just want to know if you’ve seen any Klin around here?”

“Klin!” The alien’s proclamation was loud enough to be heard throughout half the room.

Well, that stepped it up a notch, Sherri thought through her ATD.

“There are no Klin here. Why would there be?”

“I’m just asking.”

“You must be insane, Human,” Vosbin said. “What creature would deliberately seek out the Klin?”

“If not here, then I’m wondering if you’ve heard of them on other planets nearby.”

Vosbin scooped up the Juirean credits. “I will retrieve your surplus.”

“No keep it. The critchens were excellent.”

“I will give you the surplus, and then I will ask you to leave.”

“I thought we were friends, Vosbin,” Adam said.

The alien shook his head. “In what universe was that ever a possibility? You come asking on topics that are dangerous, with motives I suspect only you know. We are not friends; who could be friends with Humans?”

The alien left before Adam could say anything in his defense. But now the bar was abuzz. He detected more comm devices being activated. Before Vosbin could return with his change, Adam took Sherri by the arm. “We’re leaving. I’m sure someone’s planning a reception for us outside. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Sherri grabbed her half-full drink and drained it. “A little liquid courage never hurt,” she said. “Lead on, Captain Cain.”

* * *

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the stronger purple in the air outside. They turned left down the street, in the direction of the spaceport. From the various MK flash weapons and activated comm phones, Adam could tell they were followed from the bar.

“There’s another concentration of flash weapons up ahead,” Sherri said verbally. “Some are on the roofs.”

“I got ‘em—”

The net that fell over them from above was made of black braided rope with a thin metal cord running through it. Adam picked up on the scent of fish in the material. If the fishermen on this planet needed a net with a metal cord in it, what the hell were they trying to catch?

Adam and Sherri knelt to the ground. The net was heavy, but Adam’s instantly-activated mutant strength was able to handle it. He huddled over Sherri to keep most of the weight off of her, as a group of assorted aliens came out of the purple shadows and stood on the edges of the net, holding thick wooden clubs in their hands, ready to pounce.

Do we need these people? Sherri asked.

No. I think they’re just here to relieve us of our valuables…and possibly our lives.

Adam took hold of the net and pulled the ropes apart. The material frayed and the metal cord snapped. He tore open a section so he and Sherri could stand up.

The half-dozen assailants looked at each other, surprised and confused at what just happened. One abandoned his club and reached for his weapon. Adam shook his head, appearing defiant and unafraid. The attitude was understood—even flash weapons wouldn’t be enough against the Humans. A moment later all six of the aliens ran off in six different directions.

“Let’s get to the spaceport,” Adam said, disgusted. “It’ll take time for word to get back to the Klin—if at all. And this place is too much of a shithole for my tastes.”

* * *

Ten minutes later they approached the Juirean ET, only to find an alien lying unconscious on the broken tarmac with another crouched beside him. The one on his knees looked up at the pair of Humans.

“He was only curious; he meant no harm to the ship.”

“There’s a sign posted,” Adam barked. “It should have scanned your translators and displayed the information in your native language. What part of Stay the Fuck Away didn’t you understand?”

Sherri went to the unconscious alien and felt around for a pulse. It took a moment, but she eventually found it. “He’ll be okay. He’s just stunned.”

The other alien rose to his feet. “You are Adam Cain,” he stated.

Adam’s shoulders slumped. Damn, isn’t there anywhere in the galaxy where I’m not recognized? It’s hard to be on secret missions when everyone knows your face.

“I have spent much time in the inner Expansion,” the alien continued. “Your image is displayed quite often during the broadcasts.”

“What do you want? I’m sure you’re not here just to admire the spaceship or to get my autograph.”

“I have received word that you seek information about the Klin. I may have such information…for a reward.”

“If your information is worthy, you’ll get a reward. What do you know?”

“Andahar. It is a planet eight light-years from here. It was once a manufacturing center for the Klin.”

“It isn’t anymore?” Sherri asked.

“From what cargo merchants say, the Klin took over the manufacture of their robots before abandoning the planet over three standard years ago.”

“Why haven’t we heard of this?” Sherri asked.

“The population survived, yet they fear a return of the Klin…or worse. They do not wish to have a force of Expansion military come to their world to learn of the Klin, to be considered traitors for their conscripted service. They fear reprisals from both the Klin and the Expansion.”

“Where are the Klin now?”

The creature frowned. “They are in the Expansion, from what the broadcasts say.”

“You haven’t seen any around here?”

“As you know, the Klin do not reveal themselves often. They do not go for casual walks on other worlds so all can see.”

Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out three hundred Juirean credits. He handed them to the alien. “Here you go, smartass. Thanks for the info. Now you and your buddy get out of the lift-off radius.”

Sherri had the rear airlock activated through her ATD and was already making her way to the pilothouse. Adam was a step behind her. They watched as the first alien helped the other to his feet and then practically dragged him away from the ET. Two minutes later, the ship was in the upper atmosphere, leaving the strange purple shading behind.

Fire up the engines, Riyad, Adam signaled. We’re going to a place called Andahar.

So when do the Klin show up and take you to their leader?

Give it time, Mr. Tarazi. The game has only just begun.

10

Three excruciatingly boring days later, Sherri and Adam were about to kill each other. The cockpit of the ET was only forty feet in diameter with a single fold-down cot in the back near the airlock, requiring the two-person crew to sleep in shifts. There was an alien-designed grooming station—with no privacy—and a small food processor serving just the basics. And except for the solid deck below their feet, where most of the electronic components stored, the entire arrangement was open to the eerie emptiness of space. It was like living in a fishbowl with stars as the curious watching their every move.

Adam was in the pilot seat, while Sherri dozed on the cot. They hadn’t spoken in twelve hours, not after their last meaningless flare up. Although his mutant brain cells allowed him to recall every word of the argument, he still didn’t understand what it was about. But it was enough for him that all the huffing and puffing had tired Sherri out to the point where she fell asleep. For all he cared, she could stay in the cot for the next two days until they reached Andahar. In fact, it would be better if—

The inertia compensator saved Adam from smashing headlong into the forward glass of the canopy when the generators suddenly wound down and the ship dropped out of the deep gravity-well. A Hollywood special-effects team would have added the sound of screeching tires to the scene, but in the vacuum of space there was only silence after the generators shut down.

“What happened?” Sherri asked from behind the pilot’s station.

Adam scanned the controls. “We just passed through a damping field; it knocked us out of the well.”

“So just some random damping field, or was it something intentional?”

“Since I’ve never heard of a naturally-occurring damping field, I would have to say the latter.”

“Finally…something to do around here.”

Riyad, we just hit a damping field. Looks like the Klin are nearby.

I’ll back off. We don’t want to get caught in the same thing.

“Okay…there they are,” Adam said as contacts popped onto his proximity screen. “Damn, nine of them. They appear to be the smaller attack saucers.”

“I hope they don’t attack first and ask questions later.”

“Good point. Maybe we should slip into our environment suits just in case.”

* * *

A few minutes later the pair was suited up and watching as a squadron of Klin-style spaceships surrounded the ET. Small rockets flared out from a pair of the alien ships—two each—and struck the bulky gravity generators flanking the small crew pod. Cables were attached to the rockets, and as soon as barbed spikes sank into the hull of the ET, the ships pulled away, taking the generators with them.

Alarms sounded within the pod as several prominent cracks snaked through the canopy. Sherri and Adam grabbed canisters of sealing foam and began spraying the cracks. That stopped most of the outflow, but not all. Adam took a quick inventory. There were two extra air tanks for the spacesuits, and about fifteen minutes of atmosphere in the pod. He looked out at the starships outside, hovering about two hundred yards from the ET, wondering what they would do next.

Sherri was watching the aliens, too. “That was rude,” she said. “And now that they’ve made a mess of our ship they better hurry up. We don’t have a lot of reserves.”

“If they wanted us dead they would have launched a couple of bolts into us by now. As to why they ripped the generators off, that was rather impulsive.”

A small shuttlecraft pulled away from one of the Klin ships and moved towards the ET. It came at an excessive speed, causing the Humans to lean back in their seats when the hull slammed into the forward canopy, splintering the glass even more. Escaping air fractured the glass the rest of the way, and soon Adam and Sherri were sitting in the command chairs, the cockpit exposed to open space, and a shiny silver hull intruding only a few feet away.

The Klin ship rotated around, until an airlock hatch was exposed, an amber light on the control panel.

The two Humans released safety harnesses and made their way in the zero gravity over the mangled remains of the control station. Adam gripped a holding bar next to the hatch while taking Sherri in his other hand. Sherri pulled back on the release latch.

The door slid open and the pair climbed inside the small airlock. The hatch closed automatically and air filled the room. The inner door opened, and two space-suited Klin, each holding advanced MK flash weapons, greeted them with a wave of the handguns, calling them into the interior of the small shuttle.

The ship sped away from the broken remains of the Express Transport, leaving Adam questioning how the Juireans would handle the news that their precious starship was in ruins…and whether or not they’d hold him responsible. Knowing the Juireans, that was a given.

Riyad, can you hear me? Looks like we’ve made contact.

Great. Not sure where you are exactly, but we’re ready to follow your lead.

Good. We’ve just docked with a larger ship. We should be heading out soon.

11

But that wasn’t the case.

Two hours later, the squad of Klin starships was still in the same place, refusing to move.

“I repeat, where is your team?” asked the leader of the Klin, a tall creature with silver skin and wearing an equally silver uniform. It was hard to distinguish where the skin ended and the clothing began.

“I told you, it’s just the two of us. We’re on an independent scouting mission. No one else could fit in the Juirean spaceship.”

“You are Adam Cain; you always travel with an entourage of assistants.”

“Hey, we’re not his assistants,” Sherri protested. “We’re…colleagues.”

“And where are your other colleagues at this moment?” The Klin directed this question at Sherri.

“Hell if I know. Probably back on Formil, trying to figure out a way to kill you…all of you.”

Riyad! Adam called out in mind.

Here.

I need to you get on a CW link with Formil and have someone create a fake news broadcast about you meeting with Arieel today in the O’lac Building.

Eh, why?

The Klin aren’t taking us anywhere until they’re sure you’re not following us. They don’t believe it’s just me and Sherri out here.

Got it. Give me a minute.

Adam turned his attention back to the Klin. He and Sherri were huddled together in the small landing bay aboard a Klin KFV-A, a small, circular-shaped attack vessel Adam hadn’t seen in over a decade. He didn’t know they still used them. Yet this particular clan of Klin was the last of their kind; they were probably been down to their last reserves—or had been until this new offensive began. Then, according to Senior Fellow Cannis—the sole Klin aboard the huge black ship he’d been taken aboard—the aliens cannibalized some of their Colony Ships to make the first black starship and an army of robots. After that they enlisted the help of an unsuspecting race as their new partners in crime, promising them co-leadership of the galaxy in exchange for the planet’s manufacturing might. Those were the Andahareans, or whatever they called themselves. But then in typical Klin fashion, once the factories were pumping out tens of thousands of killer robots a day, the machines turned on their makers.

Riyad came back into his mind.

Arieel just sent a link to Formil. We rigged a little welcoming ceremony in the captain’s quarters; just a brief grip and grin. Hopefully it will add a little visual realism to things.

Good thinking. Let me know when it hits.

Unfortunately, the news broadcast wasn’t the only thing hitting that day.

Adam watched with curiosity when the lead Klin placed a metal glove over his right hand and forearm. He wore a thin grin on his face as he stepped up to the Humans. “Your reputation is well known within the Klin, Adam Cain. For your knowledge, I was aboard the colony vessel that you used to travel to the Sol-Kor universe and back. I knew well some of my kind you killed that day.”

Adam eyed the metal glove. “Your Pleabaen will be pissed if you harm his prize captive.”

“If you ever receive an invitation to meet my leader, perhaps. Yet I have been instructed not to bring you near until the location of your colleagues is revealed. Yet, in the interim….”

The alien pulled back his glove-shrouded hand and laid a heavy blow to the side of Sherri’s head, catching both her and Adam off guard. Her head wobbled and her eyes crossed, while a trickle of blood drained from her nose.

Anger swelled within Adam, and he flexed his mutant-enhanced muscles in preparation for an attack.

No! Don’t. Sherri said in his mind. I’m all right. Just surprised.

Tell that to your bleeding nose.

Sherri wiped the blood away, before staring the Klin in the eyes and licking the red liquid off the side of her hand. “Thank you, sir. May I have another?”

Veins in the Klin’s neck began to pulse, and he pulled his arm back again to grant Sherri her wish.

“Stop!” Adam yelled. “Just check with your contacts on Formil. I’m sure you have them. See if Riyad and the others are there. It shouldn’t be too hard to do.”

The Klin eyed Adam with unbridled hatred, but he held back from delivering another hit to Sherri’s head. “I will do that, yet I will not spend much time in verifying what you say.” He then looked at Sherri and her still bleeding nose. “Savages, barely evolved. I would not be faulted for killing you both, as you attempt to escape.”

“We’re not trying to…oh, yeah,” Adam remarked. “That would work.”

* * *

The Klin commander left the shuttle bay but returned an hour later, a disgruntled look on his face. A few minutes before, Adam had felt the gravity generators kick in. The ship was moving somewhere, hopefully to the hiding place of the remaining Klin.

“I still have my suspicions,” said the Klin, “yet it has been verified that Riyad Tarazi is on Formil. Our data shows that you seldom travel without him. As a result, I have been ordered to take you to bring you forth. You will stay here in the shuttle bay. Sustenance will be provided. We have extensive data on the nutritional requirements of Humans. Unfortunately, the food will not kill you.” The alien appeared agitated, and before he left, he leaned in closer to the Humans. “I do not understand why I am not allowed to dispose of you now? It would be simpler—and safer—in my opinion.”

“You can’t deprive your superiors of their simple pleasures,” Adam replied. “Now be nice to us, otherwise I will complain to the management about your poor customer service.”

The alien didn’t use the metal glove this time to strike Adam across the face. It was humorous, however, to watch the normally non-violent Klin hold his hand in pain afterwards. Adam didn’t react to the hit; instead he gave the commander a full-tooth grin. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?”

The frustrated and hurt alien literally growled at Adam, another atypical Klin reaction.

Riyad, we’re on our way. Stay close.

We’ll try, came the mental reply. But without the ghost program in the ET, your signal is kinda weak. Arieel’s doing her best to keep a line on you. We may have to move in a little closer.

It’s your call. Just be careful. The Klin commander is already suspicious.

12

Adam’s mutant brain cells kept pretty good track of the time it took to reach their destination. It came in at just under five days, which was a long time to hang out in the KFV-A’s landing bay, sleeping on stacks of thin blankets, eating the most basic of Human-compatible food, and having to be escorted to the single grooming station aboard the ship every time they had to go to the bathroom.

Most conversations took place by way of their ATDs, since there was a good chance the room was bugged. They spent most of the time probing the controls of the Klin starship, identifying relays and choke points just in case they had to take over. The ship carried a crew of twenty-five, of which half was made of up of the once-ubiquitous Jakreans.

The four-foot-tall gray aliens, with the pear-shaped heads and huge black eyes, were the thing of science fiction novels and hundreds of alien abduction stories. That was probably because the Klin used them back in the early days to help build a Human army to fight the Juireans. The tiny creatures could tolerate the gravity of Earth better than their masters and they were obedient and loyal to a fault. In fact, it was probably a Jakrean who placed a stun bolt in Adam’s back the night he was kidnapped.

Since the debacle that was to become the Klin’s attempt to use Humans in their proxy war with the Juireans, Jakreans had fallen out of favor with the Klin. The Kracori couldn’t stand the whinny little creatures and refused to have them on their ships. And when the need for Human abductees waned, the Klin stopped using them altogether.

Until now. Adam reasoned it was because of the reduced population of the Klin. There had once been more of them, but after the battle of the Dysion Void—where five Colony Ships were destroyed making their faithful escape through a barrier of stellar debris, they had more need for the semi-intelligent creatures to do their basic chores.

The Klin robots—the AN-9s—weren’t designed for everyday tasks. They were killers first and foremost. So the presence of the gray aliens made sense.

It also meant Adam could take down the entire crew in a matter of minutes if need be.

Fortunately, everyone behaved themselves and the alien spacecraft made a landing on a planet with standard Juirean gravity. Sherri and Adam remained locked in the landing bay, unable to view the new home of the Klin.

According to estimates, there were five or six remaining Colony Ships. The population of the two that were sacrificed to build the first black ship and the initial AN-9s had to be moved somewhere; they wouldn’t all fit on the remaining CSs. Adam was anxious to learn the location of the planet. Traditionally, the Klin never ventured far from each other, meaning the surviving Colony Ships were probably in the system somewhere. That would make them easy targets for a fleet of either Expansion or Human warships—preferably both. One massive and decisive strike would be all it would take to end this current threat to the galaxy.

And the sooner the better, Adam thought. He was in need of a very long vacation.

* * *

The pair was taken to a large room with rock walls and of a design not typically found with the Klin. The furniture, the arched ceilings, the thick, musty smell of the air, all spoke of an ancient structure which the Klin more-than-likely appropriated from the natives upon their arrival.

There were four smallish beds and Sherri crashed on one of them and was asleep a few moments later. Adam wandered the interior for a few minutes longer, noticing the mechanical lock on the door and not an electronic version. A precaution against his ATD, or just the native’s standard method of securing a room?

He fell back on another of the beds and closed his eyes. His ATD was active and monitoring the situation, his mutant brains cells linked to it on an unconventional level. He felt secure knowing his subconscious would alert him to any intrusions. So he closed his eyes and slept.

He and Sherri were in the belly of the beast, thousands of light-years from allied territory, and with only a handful of friends for backup. From here on out, things were going to get exciting.

13

The Klin have an air about them, a smug superiority undeserved in light of their four thousand years of running from their own shadow. So when Adam and Sherri were told they were to meet another creature—their escort made it obvious this was not a Klin—the alien treated the news as if this entity was nothing more than an underling assigned cleaning duties for the captives.

Appearing annoyed with the task of leading the prisoners to a new meeting room, the Klin ambled along the corridor at a snail’s pace, in no hurry to reach his destination. The two native guards behind them were more engaged, more alert, their black eyes locked on the pair of Humans, weapons gripped in hairy hands, ready if needed. The natives were called V’casin, and were six feet of thick muscles and furry bodies. Even without seeing the exterior of their mountain fortress prison, Adam sensed the high elevation and the sub-zero outside temperature. The natives were built for such a climate, Humans and Klin were not.

Adam and Sherri had displayed no signs of resistance prior to this, but the V’casin seemed aware of the Human race and the reputation surrounding them. The Klin could be complacent, but not the natives. The rumors may be true.

Their Klin escort opened a double-door entry and stepped through the portal. Adam and Sherri followed…before letting out audible gasps at what they found inside. It was a huge room, carved out of the side of the mountain, with an opening to the outside a hundred feet across by as many high. Beyond was the spectacular expanse of a towering mountain range, with most peaks twice as high as their current elevation. All were coated in a thick blanket of snow, with several of the higher tops ringed with impressive clouds of gray and white. The brilliant blue of the sky contrasted sharply with the evenness of the snow.

There didn’t appear to be anything covering the vast opening, yet the temperature within the room was warm and welcoming. Then Adam noticed a faint shimmer ripple across the outside scene. For a moment he thought it was a projection—a picture of remarkable clarity. But then he noticed more wrinkles across the opening. It was a force field, similar to a diffusion shield, but one designed to keep out the weather rather than energy bolts. Seeing that they were in a Klin stronghold, the presence of unknown technology was to be expected.

Ringing the room were a dozen or more flaming torches held in metal sconces attached to the walls, whose dancing light reflected off gold-inlaid symbols cut in the smooth stone floor. There was a huge central ornament hanging from the ceiling, made of crescents of gold and silver metal forming a huge hollow ball.

Music played as well; melodic swirling notes punctuated by the periodic punch of deep drums.

The room had a medieval—if not Druid—look to it. Sherri and Adam shared a look. They didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not. This wasn’t typical Klin interior decorating.

“Wait here,” the Klin snorted impatiently before he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. The V’casin guards went with him.

Overcoming the awe of the incredible view outside—along with the careful stagecraft—the Humans surveyed the rest of the huge room. It was sparsely furnished with only a raised platform to the left made from a smooth slab of granite. A sacrificial alter, Adam wondered? It would fit the décor. To the right was a secondary entryway. It was a wide arched portal thirty feet high and twenty wide, covered by double doors with metal bands riveted both vertically and horizontally in the dark, bark-like wood.

The room had a musty smell, but also the tell-tale trace of circulated heat from a hidden ventilation system. The room wasn’t without modern amenities, no matter how much someone wanted them to believe so.

Fortunately, the Humans didn’t have to wait long before the show began….

* * *

The double doors to the arched portal opened slowly inward. A pair of V’casin natives, dressed in black leather uniforms laced with metal supports, pushed the doors open until they were pressed against the stone wall of the chamber. A progression of torch-carrying natives followed, quiet and stern-faced, even as the subtle music in the room sounded a little louder. Next came the Grand Master, in a shrouded carriage supported on two long poles, carried along by eight natives, these dressed in red robes. A trailing force of eight more torch-carrying V’casin closed out the procession.

If this was meant to impress the Humans, it failed miserably. Sherri and Adam shook their heads and struggled to keep from laughing. It was so over the top, like something out of a bad B-movie from the ‘50’s, and definitely not of Klin design.

The carriage was lowered a few inches until its bunting-covered base sat on the floor. A native brought up a short three-step ladder and attached it to the side of the carriage. He then stepped up and separated the white shroud, allowing the figure inside to emerge.

He came forth, covered in a shimmering golden robe and cape, wearing a red and black painted mask depicting a generic male face with narrow eye slits and an equally narrow cut for the mouth. In his right hand was a seven-foot long golden scepter with a red-crystal headstone. The creature began to make his way down the steps.

When he reached the floor he stood to his full eight-foot height, dominating the much smaller, fur-covered natives.

Adam frowned; it all seemed so…hokey. He’d been traipsing around the galaxy for over twenty years and he’d never seen such a show of gaudy extravagance—and especially not for the intimidation—or enjoyment—of him and Sherri.

Sherri couldn’t hold it any longer. She burst out laughing, and not just a single snicker, but a prolonged, bend-at-the-waist, tear-producing chortle. Adam was more restrained, but not much.

The huge masked figure stood straight-backed for a moment…before leaning on the scepter and grabbing his stomach with his free left hand. A deep-throated cackle came from the other side of the mask, which didn’t stop until he was also doubled over with laughter.

“Damn you, Sherri Valentine. You ruined the whole thing!”

The towering figure bent over more and unfastened straps on his shoes. Then he stepped to the floor, coming in now at a respectable six-feet in height. Adam wasn’t surprised when he took his left hand and removed the mask, revealing the flushed and tear-streaked face of a Human male.

“Sorry for the dramatics,” said the smiling face. “I couldn’t resist.”

The man looked to be about thirty, with broad shoulders, bright blue eyes and blond hair. The shock came not from the fact that he was a Human, but because he looked a lot like Adam Cain….

“Was that really necessary?” Adam asked, impatience—and a slight warble—in his voice.

The man waved a hand at his V'casin entourage. “Leave us, now. Shoo!”

When the aliens stood looking confused, the man bellowed, “Go!”

The natives scurried from the chamber.

The man reached over and lifted the bunting covering the base of his carriage, revealing a metal box underneath. “See, they weren’t even carrying me; it’s on wheels.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sherri asked, having recovered from her laughing spell.

“Robert’s the name. Welcome Ms. Valentine, and of course, the infamous Adam Cain. You don’t know how thrilled I am to have you here.”

“So what was the show all about?” Adam asked. They were still on an alien ice-world, surrounded by Klin. He wasn’t about to drop his guard…not even for a good-natured Human.

“I’ve always wanted to make a grand entrance. Having the two of you here gave me the opportunity. I have to say, I had a hell of a time finding something that looked like a scepter. A little too much?”

“Are you a prisoner…or a traitor?” Sherri asked, upset now with the man’s lack of seriousness.

Robert laughed. “Right to the point, I see, Ms. Valentine. I suppose you would call me a traitor, although that would imply I was once on the side of my blood-relatives. I assure you that was never the case.”

“You’re a 2G,” Adam stated flatly, fairly confident in his conclusion.

“Bingo, Mister Cain. You win a cookie. As you see, there are still a few of us around, mucking up the works.”

“That’s Captain Cain to you.”

Adam noticed the faint British accent and cringed. It couldn’t be….

“Forgive me. I’d didn’t mean to insult you, just dazzle you a little with my brilliance.”

“You don’t talk like any 2G I’ve ever met.” Adam pointed out. He glanced around at the huge chamber. “And you seem to be in some position of power. Is that right?”

“Rank does have its privileges! And you’re right. I’m not your typical Second Generation Human, born and breed to follow the indoctrination of the nasty-ass Klin. I received a slightly different course of instruction, and from a very unusual source.”

“Nigel McCarthy.”

The man called Robert staggered back a step. “I am truly impressed with your powers of deduction, Mist…Captain Cain. Bravo.” The man stepped closer. “You have just muttered the name of my illustrious father, a name I’ve not heard in a long, long time. And now you’re probably thinking what a small galaxy this is…and how the son of Nigel McCarthy intends to have his revenge on the man who took his father’s life?”

“Your father was an asshole.”

Robert’s blue eyes grew wide. “You are…correct! He was a royal arse, as he would say. I’m glad he’s gone; you did me a favor.”

Adam shook his head. “Okay…I give up. This is a strange coincidence, but I get the feeling this isn’t a coincidence at all.”

“Some is, some isn’t,” answered Robert McCarthy. “The story is fascinating, but one for another time. Let me first get out of this silly outfit. We’ll meet in my actual chambers in a few minutes, where we can share a brew, and get to know each other. Needless to say, it’s been a while since I chatted with a fellow Human, or was in the company of such a ravishingly beautiful female where my desires are considered normal and not a form of bestiality.”

“Keep wishing, dickhead.”

“I can admire you from afar, can I not Ms. Valentine? No harm in that.”

Sherri considered the handsome young man for a moment before responding. “I guess not. Whatever turns you on.”

The glint in the man’s eye answered the rhetorical question beyond the shadow of a doubt.

* * *

Robert McCarthy left through the side portal, leaving Adam and Sherri alone in the center of the huge room, bathed in flickering torchlight, wondering what to do next. They walked over to the hundred-foot-high opening and stared out at the stark mountain peaks, which were in the process of being overtaken by the shadows of the coming night.

Out of curiosity, Adam reached out a hand to touch the force field. To his surprise, his hand passed through the thin barrier with only a slight electric tingle. His hand felt the bitter cold on the other side.

“Well, that’s pretty neat,” he said, impressed

Sherri did him one better. She stepped completely through the barrier before quickly returning. “Burr!”

“That thing could have been one-way only. You could have been stuck out there.”

“What can I say: I live life on the edge.”

14

A few moments later a burly V’casin came to fetch them.

They were led through the side portal and down a long corridor, which was occasionally broken on the left side by traditional plate-glass windows revealing the stunning scene outside. They came to a door on the right and were directed to enter.

If unexpected was the word-of-the-day, it certainly applied here.

They were in a living room designed to be a throwback to 1950’s American suburbia, complete with a low-slung lime-green couch and two matching chairs, each with thin, highly-lacquered wood arms. There was also a shiny-top coffee table curved like a leaf, and stone block walls where a narrow teakwood credenza was placed. All that was missing was the RCA box TV with its 21-inch black-and-white screen.

The far end of the room opened to the kitchen, which was even more of a shock. The counters were made of individual two-inch-square pale yellow tiles, and edged with mirror-reflective metal bands. The appliances were a classic General Electric stove and oven, and a smallish refrigerator with bands of red-painted metal. There was even a figurine sitting on the counter of a pot-bellied Italian chef holding a wooden stirring spoon.

Ritchie Cunningham would have felt right at home here.

Adam opened the refrigerator; it was empty.

“What do you think?” asked Robert McCarthy from behind his guests.

“Are you trapped in a time-warp of some kind?” Sherri asked, not trying to hide her disgust for their host’s taste in interior decorating.

“Not a time-warp, but a celebration of a different time back on distant Earth.”

“And how would you know, you’ve never been there?” It was Adam’s turn to wrinkle his nose at the obviously-staged room.

“Yes, but I have studied it extensively. At the time this was popular, your America was going through a period of forward thinking, trying out new designs and ways of doing things. Don’t you like it?”

“It’s the gaudiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” Sherri stated with certainty.

Robert was hurt. “It took me considerable time and effort to collect all this history. I find it grounding in a way. I may not be an Earth-Human, but these are things created by my ancestors at a time before they knew the outside universe existed—or at least knew it for sure. Too often we get lost in all the strange—all the alienness—around us.”

“You are a strange one, Robert McCarthy,” Adam announced.

The smile ran away from Robert’s face. “I would appreciate it if you would not refer to me by that name.”

“Why not? He was your father.”

Robert motioned for them to join him in the living room. A moment later, a V’casin native—looking even more alien within the odd setting—came in with a tray of light intoxicants, placing the glasses on coasters on the arm rests of the uncomfortable chairs. The cushions were hard and the backs too straight. Adam wondered how this style of furniture ever became popular in the first place….

“Let me explain more about the relationship between me and my late father,” the man began in earnest. “Nigel McCarthy was the senior Human within the Klin system. He was in charge of not only the abductees—the two of you included—but also the budding Second Generation population. You remember at the time, the Klin were breeding an army of 2G Humans to go up against the Juireans. As such, females were commanded to engage in acts of procreation on a continual basis. To refuse could lead to extermination. As a fervent supporter of the Klin plan, my dear old dad did his part for the cause, fathering well over one hundred fifty offspring. To say he took advantage of his position would be an understatement. That is why the fact that I am his son has little meaning. He had lots of sons.”

The man took a sip of his drink before the smile returned to his face. “Yet I was one of his first. In the early days, Nigel still believed the Klin were going to honor their promise to award Earth to him as payment for his assistance. To that end, he took some of his first-born sons and began training us to be a sort of bodyguard regiment—a group of men who would have blood-loyalty to him when the time came. Or at least that’s what he thought. He believed most Humans wouldn’t take too kindly to having a new King forced upon them. On that account, he was probably right. Anyway, we were given advanced training regarding Earth and her history, and taught to be more Human than the other 2Gs, including lessons in military tactics and strategy. Then when my father learned of the impending betrayal by the Klin in favor of their true allies, the Kracori, everything fell apart. This, I might add, was about the time he met you, Captain Cain. My brothers and I were tossed aside by loveable daddy-dearest and left to our own means. It saddens me to report, but I am the last of my lineage existing within Klin society.”

“Why you? How did you survive so long?” Sherri asked.

“Good question, my dear.” Robert took a moment to openly look Sherri up and down before continuing. “It all came down to imagination.”

“What do you mean?” Adam asked.

“Imagination,” Robert repeated. “I have it, the Klin don’t.”

He drained his drink and slapped the glass down on the coffee table. Then he leaned back on the couch and crossed his legs. “Have you ever wondered why the illustrious Klin, masters of technological advancement throughout the galaxy, were never able to achieve their goal of dominance over less-advanced species? I spent a lot of time thinking about this before finding the answer. They lack imagination. Sure, show them that something is possible and damn, they’re on it like stink of shit, white on rice—how I love the way you speak! Can you imagine what a bore it’s been to spend all these years with the monotone-speaking Klin. It’s enough to drive a person crazy—”

“Would you mind,” Adam prompted. “You were talking about the Klin’s lack of imagination.”

Robert frowned. “Patience, my friend. It’s not like you have someplace else to be.”

McCarthy smiled again, a spontaneous, almost manic look in his eyes.

“You ask how I survived, Ms. Valentine. Simple. I became the Klin’s imagination. Of course, they didn’t realize it at the time, they still haven’t. They just thought I was especially helpful, always coming up with new ideas as to how they could further their cause. Case-in-point: the most recent offensive on the part of the Klin.”

“That was your idea?” Adam asked.

“It surely wasn’t theirs. Since time in memorial, the silver-skinned slugs have been singularly focused on needing a partner race for their scheming. They’ve always had this inferiority complex based on their low numbers. It’s kind of outrageous to dream of galactic domination when there’s only a couple of hundred thousand of you around. Hell, that’s barely enough to manage a good-size city, let alone a whole galaxy.”

“The robots were your idea?” Adam stated.

“Of course they were, but even then the Klin tried to screw it up. They wanted androids, intelligent robots who could take their place in positions of power and responsibility. I told them that was a bad idea. You make the robots too smart, and pretty soon they’re looking to take over. Keep them dumb and obedient; that’s what I said. If later on you still need another class of robot to help out around the house, make them then, but in limited number, and under the watchful eye of your brainless killer bots.” Robert slapped his knee. “And you know the greatest thing about working with the Klin: all you have do is come up with an idea and those silly bastards can figure out a way to make it happen. I gave them a list of must-haves for the robots, and they went out and built them.”

Adam opened his mouth to ask another question, but Robert held up his hand. “You’re going to ask about the VN-91s, aren’t you?”

“The what?” Sherri asked.

“The large carrier ships. You refer to them as the black ships…oh what a scary name.” He spread his fingers wide and made them wiggle. “Let me back up. As I said, Nigel trained a small group of his sons in a lot of things, but the only subject I found truly interesting was the military training. He taught us two very important lessons, both related: Know your enemy and always be prepared. Knowing one’s enemy allows the second lesson to come into play. If you know your enemy well enough, then you can anticipate all they can throw at you. And for that, I thank you, Mr. Cain.”

“Me? What the hell do I have to do with this?”

“Needless to say, my father was obsessed with you. He’d talk about you all the time during our lessons, using you as an example of what could go wrong if you underestimate your enemy. So when everything went to shit, I started studying you, tracing the factors that resulted in the Juireans, the Klin and the Kracori all suffering catastrophic losses, while the primitive Humans rose to the top of the food chain. It was very educational. But the main lesson I learned is to always identify the threat…and then devise counters to it. For instance, the brain link you have within your body—yes, I know about that.”

Adam tensed. The man may know of his ATD, but he couldn’t know about the rest of it. In addition, he made no mention of Sherri in his revelation.

Robert twisted his body around and placed a finger on a small, elongated lump on the back of his neck. “You see, I have one, too.”

Adam mentally grimaced. He figured he had the upper hand against the talkative 2G, but now he wasn’t so sure. What other surprises did Robert McCarthy have in store?

“Yes, I’ve been studying you for a very long time, Adam Cain. I even had eyes on you when you first visited Formil and conned your way into getting the brain linking device. I’d long suspected that the Formilian Speakers used such technology, but it was only when you upset their neat little magic show that my suspicions were realized. And this is another example of the Klin’s abilities. Once I told them about the Formilian’s brain interface device, they went out and built one in a matter of weeks. Sure, mine may not be as advanced as yours, but it works.”

The lights in the room dimmed and then brightened. “The Klin—in their infinite lack of imagination—could never see a purpose for the device, other than as a very complicated and expensive remote control switch. I tend to agree with them, especially since I haven’t had anyone to speak with telepathically since I got it. Perhaps we can sync our units so I can experience the sensation?”

“Perhaps later,” Adam said. “But as a military man, I’m more curious about the black ships—the VN-91s. They’re the truly revolutionary piece of hardware in this war. And you say it was your idea? That’s incredible.” Adam figured stroking the man’s very large ego couldn’t hurt. Besides, when his story ended, Adam had no idea what would happen next. The long line of questions was becoming Adam’s version of A Thousand and One Arabian Nights.

“Yes…it is a great story,” Robert said enthusiastically. “It goes back to the fact that there are so few Klin. They could never have a sizeable fleet of warships to match that of the galaxy, no matter what. So I figured they had to do more with less. If they couldn’t have a fleet of ships, they needed to have invincible ships.” He laughed. “Under normal circumstances, sitting around and dreaming up what an invincible warship would look like would be an act of folly. But I have the Klin to make my dreams come true. I started with developing a ship impervious to outside attack. I made a list of all the offensive weapons that could be brought to bear, and then worked on a defensive system to stop each one. This evolved into the three-tier screen system you’ve experienced. But then I looked to offensive weapons. The only truly invincible weapon is a laser, and one powerful enough to travel across millions of miles of space and penetrate any diffusion shield in existence. But these weapons are huge, and the power requirements impossible to achieve. But then it dawned on me. The limiting factor with the laser was the lack of energy to charge the system. And what did the enemy fire at you? Energy bolts! The solution seemed simple. Capture this incoming energy and use it to power the lasers. I’m not a scientist or an engineer, but I don’t need to be. I just imagine something, and voila, the Klin make it real. It’s a great system. Now the Klin have invincible ships with millions of robots ready to carry out their objective. The Klin will finally achieve their goal and all because I gave them the vision to make it so.”

“So why the slow advance? Why not go for the big worlds and leave the others alone. You don’t have to kill so many innocent creatures to conquer the galaxy.”

Robert frowned. “Is this Adam Cain I hear talking? To paraphrase…you: ‘The only good alien is a dead alien.’ I think back to the Kracori, the Sol-Kor and now the Nuoreans. There are whole planets smoldering in your wake that were once inhabited by innocent creatures you didn’t like.”

“That was self-defense and you know it.”

“A surrender would have achieved the same objective.”

“Every planet you’ve approached has offered to surrender,” Sherri pointed out. “But you attack them anyway. That seems more genocidal than strategic.”

“Ah, but it is strategic, Ms. Valentine,” Robert countered. “I agree with you in one respect. By now the Expansion is ready to surrender to the Klin. But then what? The Klin are too few to rule an empire as big as a galaxy. So do the Klin cloister away from the population for fear of assassination and revolt? Or do they slowly integrate themselves into the operations of the galaxy? Eventually, resistance would come, followed by a deadly uprising. The more ingrained the few Klin become, the harder it is for their robots to protect them. The only way the Klin can rule a galactic empire is to cut it down to their size. Then as the Klin population grows, so can the empire.”

“All you have to do is stop,” Adam said, frustrated. “Take what you have and leave the rest.”

Robert smirked. “And you believe that is how it would end? No, the forces opposed to the Klin will always be planning, waiting for the time to strike. Yet I agree, our current timetable for conquest has reached an anticipated juncture. I have to decide which Council planet to destroy as a response to the attack on G-nin Bor. I’m sure you heard about it; an utter failure on the part of your forces.”

“I heard about it,” Adam said. “And since it was such a lopsided victory, why do you need a response? You won.”

“Lessons must be learned, my friend. Now we have to demonstrate to the Expansion that no world is safe, not even those of the Advisory Council.”

“What are you going to do?” Sherri’s voice trembled.

“I’ve been weighing the possibilities. At first I thought Formil would make a good object lesson, but then decided against it.” He laughed. “When the O’lac Building was being constructed, I sent an army of spies in to wire the place from top to bottom.” He looked at Adam and cocked his head. “Strategic planning can only go so far. Having direct intelligence regarding attack plans and troop movements is valuable, too. That’s how we were able to anticipate some of your more recent operations. No, it can’t be Formil. I put too much time and effort setting up my network there. I did, however, consider the nine worlds of the Formilian alliance that produce the bulk of their electronic devices. But we rely on those products as much as the rest of the galaxy, utilizing an elaborate system of dummy buyers to get what we need. So those worlds are safe.”

Adam’s stomach tightened as Robert worked his way towards the inevitable.

“I thought about Juir; that would be the most logical place, considering the history between the Juireans and the Klin. But the planet is more a symbol now than any real center of power. It’s been on a slow road to recovery since the Kracori asteroid attack, and to this day, less than a billion Juireans inhabit the planet.”

Robert looked at Adam with burning eyes. “And then I thought about Earth.”

Adam’s return expression could melt steel.

“But then I thought we’re not ready to take on Earth.”

“Why not?” Sherri stammered. The relief on the faces of the two Human captives was evident. But still Sherri wanted to know why their homeworld was being spared.

“First of all, the planet has the most nuclear weapons anywhere in the galaxy, and knowing Humans like I do, they’d use every last one of them if it meant denying victory to the Klin. In the process, the place would become a wasteland. I’d very much prefer that not to happen.”

“You want it for yourself,” Adam stated as the thought dawned on him.

Robert nodded. “Unfortunately, the one thing my father did instill in me was a desire to lord over my fellow man. I have no desire to share in the Klin’s domination of the galaxy; there are far too many aliens, with alien ways and alien smells. They can have it. And although I’ve never been to Earth, I’d sure like to go. And as the supreme leader, I’d have certain perks.” He looked at Sherri with a lecherous grin. “You see, I like Human women; the Klin even bring some in for me now and then. I couldn’t imagine destroying the place where they grow naturally.”

When neither of his guests responded, Robert shrugged and continued. “So I’m thinking now about Silea or Bannokfore, probably Bannokfore. It has a thriving industry and culture, controlling a federation of forty-plus worlds. It also has one of the largest military concentrations outside the core worlds. Destroying it would send a strong message to the Expansion.”

“There’s also about ten billion people there,” Sherri pointed out.

“The more the merrier.”

“You are one sick son-of-a-bitch.”

“And you should be grateful I’m also a horny SOB,” Robert countered. “If Earth was a world of just men, I’d burn it to ashes without a second thought.”

When Robert’s eyes locked on Adam, accompanied by a thin, mischievous grin, Adam realized there was one topic that hadn’t covered yet: the future of him and Sherri. Robert prided himself on his ability to always anticipate the moves of his opponent, so he had to have put some thought into Adam’s motives and capabilities before bringing him and Sherri to his mountain hideaway.

“So what’s next?”

“For you?”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Robert appeared relaxed and unconcerned. Having planned out this encounter well in advance, there had to be security measures in place. He couldn’t know of Adam’s special abilities, but he could anticipate some other action on his part.

“You spoke earlier of coincidences. As you have already figured, I left the trail to the Klin fairly obvious for anyone to follow. If a traditional scouting party arrived and found nothing, they would leave. If a major military assault was launched, they too would be disappointed. But someone like you would have known it was a dead end. So why not let the Klin lead you…to the Klin? Allow yourselves to be captured and then be brought before the Pleabaen. But the bait—you—would have to be so inviting that the Klin wouldn’t simply just kill you. No, with the capture of the famous Adam Cain and Sherri Valentine, the Pleabaen would have you brought before her for disposal.”

“Her?”

“Oh, yes. The new leader of the Klin is a female, one of forty-six past female Pleabaens. She came to power within the year. But it matters not who is the Pleabaen. You see, we have been planning this for quite a while. It was delayed when you installed your mutant daughter as head of the Expansion—a brilliant move, I might add. It was further pushed back when the Nuoreans crashed the party. But after you so effectively cut off their access to the Milky Way, it opened the door for us to proceed.”

“So she’s here?” Adam asked. “When do we meet this new leader of the Klin?”

“The answer is…never.”

Adam blinked. “Why is that?”

“You’ve got to be kidding?” Robert blurted. “With your history of killing off Pleabaens, do you think I’d allow you within a thousand light-years of one?” He shook his head. “As I’ve said, I’ve studied you, Adam Cain. In too many cases you’ve allowed yourself to be captured just so you can weasel your way into the enemy’s camp; you did that with the Nuoreans just a year ago. And you’ve done it again. The only reason you’d do such a thing is because you believe you’ll survive. You believe that now. Although your team is supposedly back on Formil—according to a single news broadcast that appeared conveniently just when it was needed—it’s my belief that your team is nearby, probably communicating with you at this very moment through your telepathy device. You expect them to rescue you and Ms. Valentine, after you’ve collected the head of another Pleabaen for your trophy wall. Let me cut to the chase. There are approximately twenty thousand Klin in this settlement. The rest are scattered across the galaxy in their individual Colony Ships. There is no single concentration for your allied forces to attack. Even if you wipe out the Klin here, it will not stop the invasion. And as for me….”

Two panels in the stone wall behind Sherri and Adam slid opened, and out rolled two of the Klin AN-9 robots.

“Don’t make any sudden movements,” Robert cautioned. “They’re programmed to protect me.”

Adam had the arms of the uncomfortable chair gripped in his hand, ready to jump to his feet. But he hesitated.

“Now before this situation escalates into a shooting war, Adam please use your brain interface device to scan the ’9s. You will find this model has had a few improvements since your last encounter with my little friends.”

Adam was way ahead of him. He was mentally foraging within the computer circuits of the robots, seeking out the scanner connections that, when tripped, would blind the deadly machines. He found them, but immediately noticed something was different. The circuits were constantly recycling, themselves in a state of flux. He couldn’t time the interruption, and if he could, the circuits would just reconnect a moment later.

Sherri was silent. She had only been recently fitted with her new ATD and was still in the process of getting up to speed with the device. Even then, interaction with the robots was beyond her capabilities, especially in the heat of the moment.

Sherri, stay cool, Adam spoke through his ATD. I can’t shut down the robots.

Don’t worry, I’m sitting here scared shitless. How are we going to get out of this mess? I’ve been trying to reach Riyad and there’s no answer.

Me too. But like I said, sit tight. We’ll figure a way out.

“Yes, we analyzed the weakness in the older units,” Robert was saying. “With this model, the diagnostics run constantly. Any tricky manipulations inside their brains will be instantly corrected. And one other thing, observe the targeting beams for the tactical lasers.”

Adam spotted the thin red lines projecting from the square metal bodies of the robots. There were two from each, and they were all aimed at Sherri.

“I know you, Adam Cain,” Robert McCarthy said, his voice lower, more ominous. “I know your sensibilities and your loyalties. I know what you’re willing to sacrifice, and what you’re not. Now please, relax. I don’t intend to kill you…at least not yet. I’m enjoying your company far too much to do that. And I still have to try my charms out on the alluring Sherri Valentine—”

“You sick bastard!” Sherri screamed. “You just try it. I guarantee—”

“Relax, Sherri, I don’t intend to force you to do anything against your will.”

“Then what makes you think I’d do anything with you?”

“Time, my dear. And motivation.” Robert’s eyes turned as hard as stone. “You’ll do what I want, when I want. Otherwise…well, now you know the problem with bringing a lover along on a mission. They can be used as an incentive against the other. A very basic lesson you should have learned long ago, Mister Cain.”

15

Robert sent Adam and Sherri back to their room, escorted by the two AN-9 robots. Down the long corridor to the huge showroom, the red laser points remained on Sherri’s back, giving Adam pause on implementing any escape plans he may be contemplating. But that didn’t mean he did have one.

As the small entourage passed through the wide portal and into the main cavern, Adam was already well within the process of gathering up a wind storm using his newly discovered skill at telekinesis.

Sherri felt the wind rush across her face as the air was sucked past her to form up in a ball to her right. She looked over at Adam and frowned.

What are you doing? she asked telepathically.

Getting us out of here. I just don’t know how much force it’s going to take to destroy the robots.

Then maybe you should—

Her thought was cut off when Adam raised his right hand to innocently scratch the back of his neck…before sweeping his arm down and across his body, directing a near-solid torrent of air at the two automatons behind them. To his surprise, the robots were swept across the floor in a blur and smashed against the rock wall on the opposite side of the room. The force was so great, that in the split second before rock fractured and half the ceiling caved in, Adam saw the AN-9’s as just foot-wide pancakes of bent and sparking metal.

But now they had to contend with the cascade of stone falling fifty feet away. They were thrown to floor by a mini-earthquake, just as a dense cloud of dust and debris billowed towards them. Adam rolled on top of Sherri, his body now in full mutant mode. A few of the leading stones slammed into his back, but he shrugged them off with indifference. When the cloud began to thin, he jumped to his feet, Sherri held against his body by an impossibly strong right arm.

“You ready?” he asked.

Her face was so close to his that her eyes had to cross to focus on his mouth and the words she just heard. She was dazed by the rumbling around her and the thick dust filling the room.

“Ready for what?”

Adam ran off for the force field covering the hundred-foot-wide opening, which was still in operation in spite of half the ceiling crashing to the floor. Sherri was now cradled like a sack of potatoes in Adam’s right arm. He sprinted through the force field and onto the wide, circular platform outside. The frigid temperature was a shock, colder now from the early onset of nightfall. Adam was nearly to the edge of the balcony when Sherri realized what he had in mind.

“Hell no!” she cried out. “You can’t be thinking about—”

Adam raced to the edge of the platform and jumped off, sticking his left arm out in front of him—Superman-like—as the pair fell into the frigid dark of the four-thousand-foot high cliff outside the Klin fortress.

Adam pulled Sherri closer and rolled to his left, with his back now facing the direction of the fall. Immediately, he saw ribbons of light blue swirling through the air towards them. A moment later he felt the welcoming pressure of the invisible cushion of air against his back. They slipped through the night on a magic carpet made of wind, leveling out before making a sharp turn to the right.

It wasn’t that they were riding on a dense cushion of air thousands of feet above the ground that was the problem. It was the fact that the cushion was made of sub-zero night air, and with the wind chill created by their hundred-mile-per-hour flight to safety, it was more like they were riding a block of ice rather than an Aladdin-style magic carpet. Sherri was dressed in only a pair of jeans and a thin blouse, with an equally thin military-style jacket over it. Adam could feel her shaking uncontrollably, even as his mutant healing powers fought to keep him from being overtaken by the severe cold.

They couldn’t keep this up for long. If they did, Sherri would die, and probably Adam, as well.

Adam angled the air cushion downwards, toward the base of a nearby mountain. The snow here looked deep and soft, having yet to develop a crust of ice, as it surely would the deeper night fell over the mountain range. A moment later, they crashed into the drift, sinking fifty feet or more before coming to a stop. Adam waved his hand through the snow and immediately a round chamber was created by compressed air. He brought half a dozen static electricity balls into existence and compressed them so they gave off significant heat, along with light. He brought them in close to Sherri’s unconscious body, which he held effortlessly in his arms.

He looked around the small ice cave and saw torrents of water streaming down the walls, with a growing pool of ice water covering his feet and beginning to climb up his legs. Frigid water dripped from the ceiling. He created a small umbrella of compressed air above his head. It helped, a little. But with the rising temperature in the chamber, it wouldn’t be long before the snow bubble filled with water.

Sherri was trembling as she regained consciousness. She tried to speak but found her cheeks too cold to allow her to form words through her chattering teeth. She resorted to telepathy.

Where are we?

In a snow bank, but not for long. The balls are melting the snow. Hold on.

With effort, Sherri wrapped her shaking arms around his neck, before Adam—using just his mind and not a wave of his hands this time—directed a blast of air into the side of the chamber. A tunnel formed in the snow he could walk through.

The static electricity balls came with them, helping to warm the tunnel, but also melting the walls of the narrow channel. He pressed on another hundred yards before coming to a rock wall—the side of the mountain—covered in ice and snow. He moved to his right, using his control of the air around him to clear the rock. He was looking for a cave, but soon an outcropping became an acceptable alternative. It was just a slight depression in the rock with a small overhang and a stone floor about ten feet wide.

He set Sherri down on the rock floor before using his mind to clear away the remaining glacial ice from the rock. The electric balls grew in intensity, bathing them in life-saving warmth.

Adam stepped away from the rock wall and looked up, directing a narrow blast of air up through the snow. It traveled about a hundred feet before breaking through the snow to form a ventilation shaft. Melting snow from around the outcropping formed streams of warmer water that disappeared into tunnels cut in the ice beyond the shelter. They would stay dry and warm, at least for the time being.

* * *

Riyad! Adam cried out in his mind. He applied all the intensity his mutant-enhanced brain could muster, but it didn’t make a difference. Riyad was off the air.

“Is there a way our minds can combine to send out a stronger signal?” Sherri asked. She was up and moving around in the brightly-lit shelter.

“I can’t see how. I thought they were right behind us,” Adam said. Riyad! He mentally screamed again. Arieel! He tried the Formilian, knowing she had the most experience with ATD communication. Still nothing.

Kaylor! Jym!

He felt a buzz in his head, a slight tingle from…outside.

Jym? Can you hear me?

Can I hear…hear what?

My thoughts, dammit! Are you hearing me or not? It’s Adam.

Adam! Adam Cain?

What other Adam would be speaking with you by ATD?

Yes, of course. Adam…where are you?

I’m not sure. Are Arieel and Riyad with you?

In another room; I will get them.

Adam’s expression told Sherri what she needed to know. “You’ve made contact! Where are they?”

“I don’t know. I’m hooked in with Jym.”

“Jym? Why him?”

Adam shook his head—

Adam, it is Arieel. I am linking through Jym’s Gift—ATD.

Why is it I can link with Jym but not you? Adam asked.

Certain species have natural telepathy abilities, at least on a sensitivity level. Jym must be one of them. Yet I would not worry about the how at this point. Where are you?

Not sure. The natives are called V’casin. I don’t know what they call the planet.

We will check the Library.

The link was quiet for a moment before Riyad’s voice came into his mind.

I have it. The planet is called Corfer. We’re about a light-year out.

Good, Adam thought. When you get closer lock onto my mental signal. That will show you where we are. Then come to the planet from the opposite direction. The Klin are in the mountains. Come in low and slow from the valleys otherwise they’ll spot you.

We’re in a five-hundred-foot-long freighter. You don’t think they’ll spot us anyway?

I’ll see what I can do about their detection equipment. What’s your ETA?

Could be six hours, maybe longer if we have to sneak up on you.

Just get here as soon as you can. You’re not going to believe the story I have to tell you.

Robert McCarthy and the Klin Senior Fellow Sumonis Fer stood near the edge of the exterior platform, dressed in thick coats to protect against the bitter cold, staring out at the darkness below. The canyon floor was four-thousand feet below, nearly straight down. No one could have survived such a fall.

“They’re alive,” Robert said with confidence.

The Klin shook his head. “You keep saying that, but I do not see how.”

“I know Adam Cain. He deliberately ran for the edge and jumped. He wouldn’t have done that unless he knew he would survive.”

“Again, I ask how?”

“I don’t know, not yet.”

Robert had watched the security feed a dozen times, confused by the wave of Cain’s hand and the subsequent disaster within the ancient V’casin worship room. Something powerful—and invisible—had smashed the AN-9s with such intensity that it nearly collapsed the entire chamber. Then Cain scooped up Sherri Valentine and together they jumped from the ledge. His actions were deliberate and decisive. He knew what he was doing, and it certainly wasn’t an act of suicide

“We have scouts searching the canyon floor, but we cannot draw much notice to our activities if we wish to keep our location a secret,” the Klin was saying.

“Your location has already been compromised, Sumonis. You should begin making arrangements to evacuate the population to the secondary location. Cain and his people may not be able to target all the Klin at one time, but they surely won’t hesitate to take out those they can.”

“You have a lot of confidence in the abilities of your fellow Human.”

“Are you not aware of the history of Adam Cain, especially when it comes to his interactions with the Klin?”

“Yes, I am aware. But with our current operation and the precautions we have taken, the allied forces of the Expansion and the Union are no longer a threat. How can one Human make a difference when an entire galaxy stands helpless?”

“That remains to be seen. But the biggest mistake you can make is to underestimate Adam Cain.”

“You mean the recently deceased Adam Cain?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

16

“That has to be the place, half of it is covered in snow,” Copernicus Smith said, looking at the long range scanner.

Riyad straightened up and looked out the huge, three-sided viewport on the bridge of the Nautilus. “Kaylor, bring us in star-side, and then aim for one of the two moons. We may be able to cover our approach.”

Riyad had worn a perpetual frown for the past week, ever since losing contact with Adam and Sherri. Now that he had a bead on them, he wasn’t feeling any better. There were twenty thousand Klin on that planet, and all he had was a rag-tag team of five and a seventy-year-old freighter with minimal weapons.

“Adam is broadcasting a beacon,” Arieel announced. Her expression mirrored Riyad’s. The only member of the team who seemed enthusiastic about reaching the frozen planet was Jym. He was feeling cocky now that he had the hang of his ATD. He’d perfected the creation of static electricity balls and was making them pop into existence at the most inappropriate times. He was also very good at telepathic communications, to the point where he could invade other people’s private thoughts. Fortunately, the rest of the team had learned the tell-tale signs when he was doing this and told him in no uncertain terms to knock it off. The words airlock and jettison were often used in these admonitions. For the time being, Jym was behaving himself.

Arieel placed a locator marker on Adam’s location, which Riyad displayed on the main screen. He was on the other side of the planet, so Kaylor brought the huge freighter into the atmosphere four thousand miles from the beacon and began hugging the ground at over three thousand miles per hour. When they reached the verdant valleys at the foot of the towering mountain range, he slowed the ship and targeted a particular valley that would get them to their destination, hidden between jagged peaks.

That’s when they noticed Adam’s beacon was moving. A moment later, they got their first direct ATD link with Adam.

Prepare the sickbay with heating blankets. I’m on my way.

Did you say heating blankets?

Yes. Hurry. I’ll be there in three minutes.

Kaylor set the huge ship down in a field of soft snow and opened the portside landing bay doors. By the time the crew made their way aft, Adam was already in the cargo bay and the door was closing. Sherri was unconscious in Adam’s arms. He raced past the others, heading for sickbay.

He placed her on an examination table and began breaking open the sealed pouches holding the heating pads. Space was a cold and dangerous place to make a living, so all starships carried emergency provisions to combat the threat of hypothermia. Helping hands wrapped Sherri in the blankets, and moments later her pink glow returned, replacing the pale blue from before.

“I couldn’t block their scanners,” Adam explained. “They have constant reboots going. And their patrols are out in force with daylight only an hour away. I couldn’t risk them spotting the Nautilus.”

“But how…how did you?” Arieel asked, before letting the question trial off.

“I’ll tell you later.” Kaylor, Adam called out through his ATD. Get us out of here the way you came, and then bolt for space. Get us into a deep-well as soon as you can.

Already underway.

Sherri was sitting up on the table by now, Copernicus hugging her, adding his warmth to that of the blankets.

“You know,” she began through chattering teeth, “I’m going to need a long vacation someplace hot and humid when this is over.”

“I know just the place,” Coop said with a loving smile. “If someone doesn’t send armed sailors after us…again.”

The comment was directed at Adam Cain.

* * *

They made it into space and bolted away above the ecliptic. The home of the V’casin—the planet Corfe—was located at the edge of the galaxy, so it was just a short hop before the Nautilus was transiting at full gravity-drive through the fringes of intergalactic space.

The team was assembled on the huge bridge, which provided plenty of room and amenities for the seven of them. There were well-worn leather couches and two plush recliners, plus a full food and beverage prep station. The former flight crew of the freighter wanted to make sure their long transits were made in comfort. Adam and his crew weren’t complaining.

“You. Are. Shitting. Me!” Riyad exclaimed, punctuating each word. “Nigel McCarthy’s son? What are the odds? This is a frigging galaxy after all. You don’t just run into people you half-ass know.”

“It was more than chance, buddy,” Adam explained. “He’s been watching me—and as a consequence, all of you—for quite a while.” He looked at Arieel. “He even has the O’lac Building bugged from top to bottom. He knows what the allies are going to do even before they do.”

“I surmise bugged means surveillance?”

“Exactly.”

“Then I must contact my security personnel immediately and have the building un-bugged.”

Adam nodded, while giving her a wide, warm smile.

“Where do we go from here?” Kaylor asked. “From the story you have just told, the Klin are too disbursed to be eliminated effectively, and the son of Nigel McCarthy is planning attacks on planets far into the Expansion. What can we do to stop him?”

Adam looked at his Belsonian friend and shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. But one thing’s for sure, we’re going to need some help.”

“Help?” Jym asked. “From who…or is it whom in Human-speak?”

“What kind of help?” Arieel asked. Adam could tell by her tone she already knew the answer.

Sherri spoke next. “Mutant-type help, right?”

“And exactly how are you going to make that happen?” Riyad asked. “They disappeared a couple of years ago and haven’t been seen since. You would think if they were in the Milky Way they would have come to help long before this. Lila’s not about to let her mom and dad get hurt, not if she can help it. And you know Panur will do anything she wants. He’s the most pussy-whipped immortal mutant genius I’ve ever met in my life.”

“And how many pussy-whipped immortal mutant geniuses have you met?” Adam questioned.

“Enough to know.” Riyad flashed his trademark smile.

“They’re probably in another dimension and unaware of what we face,” Jym stated.

“That’s why we’re going to Earth,” Adam announced.

“How is going to Earth…the TD ship!” Sherri said.

“That’s right,” Adam confirmed.

“But it doesn’t work,” Coop pointed out. “They rebuilt most of it, but they still can’t get the power supply right.”

“Then we’re just going to have to fix it ourselves.”

“They won’t let you have it, Adam,” Riyad said. “They consider the technology on that ship—even broken technology—to be the greatest threat to the galaxy. I tend to agree with them. The Klin are bastards enough. Imagine what they could do—or the Nuoreans—if they had trans-dimensional travel technology. They could pop in and out of the galaxy on a whim and no one could stop them.”

“We can, once we get the ship working.”

“Using your mutant super brain power, I suppose?” Sherri asked sarcastically. “Your super intelligence didn’t help us on that planet back there. All it did was tell you to go jump off a cliff…and you did.”

“It saved our lives, sweetheart…if you recall.”

“You really think you can do it?” Riyad asked sincerely.

Adam grimaced. “I can’t think of anything else. I can’t do all this on my own—”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence in the rest of us, asshole,” Sherri said.

“You know what I mean.”

Sherri gave him a conciliatory smile.

“So we’re going to steal the Najmah Fayd….” Riyad stated.

“That’s the plan,” Adam said. Then he frowned. “But if we do—and we get the damn thing working again—can you grant me one little favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Can we change the name of the ship to something a little easier to pronounce?”

Riyad snapped his head back in surprise and indignation. “How dare you suggest that Najmah Fayd is hard to pronounce. It rolls off my tongue like…like it was in my native language.”

“Good for you,” Sherri spoke up. “But I’m with Adam on this one.”

“Me too,” added Copernicus.

The three aliens didn’t care. They spoke the words Star Panther in their native language and the translation bugs did the rest.

Riyad pursed his lips before nodding. “I seem to be outvoted. Fine, call it the Captain Kangaroo for all I care.”

“It was thinking more along the lines of—”

“Don’t tell me…the Enterprise, right?” Sherri interrupted.

“No, the Defiant…because that’s what we are: defiant and determined.”

“We have to steal the ship first,” Coop pointed out.

Adam smiled as he took in the faces around him. “I have no doubt that such a skilled and determined crew as this can pull that off without a hitch.”

No one cheered at Adam’s feeble attempt to enlist enthusiasm for his plan…while Riyad mumbled: “I kinda liked Najmah Fayd….”

17

Seventeen thousand light-years. That was how far the Klin world of Corfer was from Earth, a journey of four-and-a-half months. In the war with the Klin, that was a lifetime for a number races, creatures who had evolved on their homeworlds over millions of years, only to have ninety-nine percent of their population wiped out over a couple of weeks. An estimated fifty worlds or more would be attacked during the transit. Some would be spared, most would not.

For Adam and his crew, it was an excruciatingly frustrating time. While the seven members of the team essentially sat around twiddling their thumbs, the Klin continued their offensive. And if Robert McCarthy had spoken the truth, the Klin would also destroy the most-heavily populated world of the campaign so far—the planet Bannokfore. It was one of the thirteen ruling planets of the Advisory Council. Its loss would be a shock to the galaxy.

The only consolation to the Nautilus’ snail’s pace journey through the impossible-to-imagine distances of intergalactic space was that Continual Wormhole technology allowed the team to stay in touch with Formil and Earth. This way Adam could do his part for the war effort, until the time came for him to take it over.

* * *

It came within one vote of the Humans being expelled from the Advisory Council. The fact that most aliens in the galaxy didn’t like Humans came as no surprise to Ambassador Ashton Hill. What did surprise him was the representative who cast the deciding vote. It was the Juirean Overlord Zaxis fe Rendor.

Hill had most of his belongings already packed and ready for the long journey back to Earth, a trip he didn’t look forward to, but an outcome he welcomed. He was tired of all the aliens he had to deal with, and he missed the familiar warmth and glow from his native sun. The Expansion was in a state of flux, and no one was willing to compromise on anything. The politics were too caustic and the beliefs too ingrained. During the seventeen months he’d been on the Council he couldn’t remember a single time when any of the members changed their minds on a subject, set instead with their initial reaction. That wasn’t how negotiation worked, or how councils were supposed to operate. Sure, consensus was formed and decisions made within the thirteen-member council, but that was simply because a majority expressed their pre-ordained opinions and voted accordingly in the odd-numbered chamber.

That was why the Juirean’s vote came as a surprise. The pre-ordained position of the Juireans had always been to counter whatever the upstart Humans wanted. It was like that with most of the member worlds—counteracting factions against predicable opponents. Hill had already considered the Juirean as being on the other side. But that wasn’t the case.

“This is an outrage,” shouted the Criminean Endender Das. “The Humans refuse to assist the Expansion, and therefore there is no reason to keep them on the Council.”

“We are not refusing to help,” Hill said in his defense. Half his brain wanted to continue the debate; the other half was thinking what a bitch it was going to be having to unpack when the meeting concluded. “We have supplied hundreds of nuclear weapons for the defense of Bannokfore, and to a lesser degree, Silea. And you must remember it was a Human—Adam Cain—who brought us the news of the impending attacks, allowing time for us to prepare a defense.”

“If Bannokfore is indeed the target of this Klin advisor, this Robert McCarthy—a Human I might add.” The Gacian representative Pinsion—just one name, Pinsion—had voted against Ashton remaining on the Council. He had argued emphatically that Cain’s report was just a diversion on the part of McCarthy, a way to draw precious resources from the real target. Ashton then asked where was the Klin’s real target, since he was so sure it wasn’t Bannokfore? He didn’t have an answer. It was one of those cases where he’d already made up his mind and no amount of facts or logic was going to change it.

The Bannokfore and Silean reps split their vote. The Bannokfore were pissed that the Humans would not send military ships to defend the planet, or even take over operational command of some of the units on an official basis, conceding the Humans’ talent at war. They did an end run by appointing a Human who was working for them on a contract basis to be the supreme commander of their defense force. The Sileans, on the other hand, had always supported the Human Orion-Cygnus Union, being as close to the border between the two galactic empires as they were. They figured the Humans would come to their rescue should the Klin attack. As it was, the current front was fifteen thousand light-years away from Earth, and Bannokfore was even farther than that. The Humans couldn’t see how this was their fight…at least not yet.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

Adam had told the leaders on Earth of Robert McCarthy’s plan to save the planet for himself. At the moment, that seemed a better option than a Klin invasion. No one on the planet believed for a second that the Klin would accept an offer of surrender from the Humans. It would be an all-out slaughter if they ever reached Earth. If McCarthy wanted to take over, at least it would be a Human in control, and not some silver-skinned lunatic alien race.

Of course, the Council didn’t know this. All they knew was that the Humans were withholding their resources, military might and combat expertise from the Expansion. Although most races resented the Humans, they acknowledged their fighting skills. And fighting skill was what was needed against the Klin.

But Earth didn’t want to antagonize the Klin—or especially Robert McCarthy—if it could buy them time, or in the worst case, save the population from extinction by falling under McCarthy’s thumb.

So in a fit of anger, the Council voted to expel the Humans.

Ashton knew the Juirean Overlord well. He knew how pragmatic the creature was, and how he probably reasoned that keeping the Humans around might make them change their minds about contributing more to the war effort. He also knew what badass military commanders Humans were. Even now—in spite of the official line from Earth—a fair number of rogue Human military personnel were chomping at the bit to lead a squad—or a fleet—against the Klin. They may die in the process, but this was what they lived for, if that made sense. And a juicy galactic war was right up their alley.

“I’m sure all of you know the history of the Klin’s manipulation of the Human race through the use of what were called Second Generation Humans—the 2Gs. McCarthy has never been to Earth. All he knows of his blood race is what he’s been told by the Klin and his murderous father. He’s as much Human as you are, Representative Pinsion.”

“Then why did not the very accomplished Adam Cain kill him when he was in his presence? Could it be he could not come to kill another Human?”

Ashton smiled. “Cain has killed plenty of 2G Humans, including Nigel McCarthy, Robert’s father. Believe me, if the opportunity had presented itself, he would have taken it.”

“This bickering amongst ourselves is non-productive,” said First Corusant U’lac Vision, the titular head of the Council. “The vote had been recorded; Ambassador Hill will remain as a voice for the Human Union.” The Formilians were the Humans staunchest allies on the Council; their vote was never in doubt. “As to the contributions the Humans wish to make in defense of the Expansion, any efforts will be welcome.”

“We will do what we can, First Corusant,” Ashton said. “And now, what is the status of the defense efforts?”

Endender Das flexed his lips at the Human, which Ashton knew was a sign of conciliation. “Yes, with other matters,’ said the alien. “Even without the Human ships or operational commanders, a fleet has embarked for Bannokfore, arriving in fourteen standard days. We have dispatched a small fleet for Silea, on the chance Bannokfore was merely a diversion. Each system will be supplied with a several hundred nuclear weapons in the form of mines and missiles. Fleet ships will be instructed to maintain a safe distance of at least five million miles from the black ships—the VN-91s, as they are designated. In the meantime, evacuations are underway on a grand scale, including vital records and historical artifacts. Bannokfore is thirty-eight standard days from the Klin front at maximum deep-well. It does not give us much time, and currently there is panic on the surface, making evacuation operations more difficult. Silea is much farther away, unless the Klin use unknown forces to launch an attack. Let us just hope our evacuation of Bannokfore will not been for nothing.”

Ashton raised his eyebrows, certain that the Criminean didn’t mean what his last statement inferred. The Human heard it as: It would be a shame to go through all this trouble if the Klin don’t attack. He couldn’t have meant it that way…could he?

18

“You have done all you can, Adam,” Arieel said in a losing battle to console the morose Human. “Because of you, millions of Bannokfore will live. Without warning, there would be countless more lost to the Klin.”

They were in the captain’s cabin and in bed, with Arieel’s silky black hair draped over Adam’s chest. He absently stroked her hair while staring up at the ceiling.

They had resisted as long as they could before resuming their fifteen-year-long affair, one that had resulted in the impossible birth of their daughter Lila—a mutant of extraordinary power. The chemical bonds that the ancient Aris had programmed into the genes of the Humans and the Formilians had done their job, producing their super being three billions years after the experiment began.

“It’s just that I feel so helpless. I want to be in the fight.”

Arieel chuckled. “There will still be plenty of fight for all of us”

“I should have taken him out when I had the chance.”

“Robert McCarthy?”

“Uh huh.”

“From what I understand, there never was an opportunity, not without risking the life of Sherri.”

“Yeah, but she would have understood if it meant killing McCarthy.”

Arieel lifted her head and looked at Adam with a sultry frown. “Surely you are not serious?”

“No, I’m not…and don’t call me Shirley.”

The old joke really brought another layer of confusion to Arieel’s beautiful face. He changed the subject with a long, soft kiss. That got her mind off of his odd Human-speak and onto other matters. The other matters distracted them for the next forty-five minutes.

* * *

Exhausted and covered in sweat, the two lovers basked in the afterglow of their passion. “I have said it before,” Arieel breathed. “Your new mutant stamina is extremely welcome. You are now equal to most Formilian males in that regard.”

Now it was Adam’s turn to frown. “Gee, thanks…I think. But I didn’t know it was a competition.”

Arieel smiled, a heart-melting, take-your-breath-away smile. “It is very much a competition. Everything is. So please…keep attempting to win. It is certainly worth the effort.”

* * *

The Nautilus was a huge ship, especially when there were only seven people aboard. Although large, it could be crewed easily by the small number. Most of the ship’s bulk was in the form of cargo holds, so if needed, each member of the team had plenty of opportunity to get away from the others for quiet time and contemplation.

When he wasn’t with Arieel, Adam spent time in one of the airtight lateral cargo holds running along the side of the ship. It was about the size of a basketball court with ceilings over fifty feet high. He worked on his telekinetic skills here, recalling the thrill he felt when he’d soared though the air on Corfer like the real Superman.

He also remembered how he almost killed three of his crew when he sucked all the air out of the room to lift the cycling module.

Now he was taking smaller quantities of air and compressing them more to gain the same effect. Through his experiments, he was able to create an invisible sheet of air under his feet, like a futuristic hoverboard. It didn’t take much effort to make one, but it did require balance to stay on. After a couple of weeks he was an expert at riding his air-surfboard, using ancillary side currents to help keep him upright.

Now this was what having mutant super powers was all about!

* * *

The Nautilus had a habit of breaking down quite often, adding about five days to journey. Eventually, Kaylor had to rebuild the #6 focusing ring cradle from scratch after his plastic battery cover fix stopped working.

The ship was also traveling above the galactic plane, its gravity-well as deep as possible. They were making good time. They just had a very long way to go.

19

Gary Romaine had been born into the military and he fully intended to die in the military. He was forty-one and had seen more action than most Humans in that time. He volunteered for duty on Juir, when the Humans ran things, then stuck around afterwards to take on mercenary work where he could find it. Fortunately, Humans were in high demand at the time, so he was able to stay busy while banking some good coin.

Recently, however, he was in the habit of entering and exiting the military services of a half-dozen races, splitting his time between legitimate duties and not-so-legitimate capers. At the time of the Klin offensive, he was on the official side of the ledger, serving as a well-paid advisor to the Bannokfore.

When the news broke that the Klin may be targeting the planet, a wholesale panic erupted, even among the armed forces. The planet had a robust military—mainly a glorified police force—which patrolled the forty-two worlds in the Bannokfore Protectorate. Gary laughed at the name every time he heard it. The planet was a voting member of the Expansion Advisory Council; it didn’t have much to be protected against. In fact Bannokfore was one of the unscrupulous major superpowers in the galaxy that others had to be protected from.

But Gary was okay with that. The Bannokfore liked to flex their muscle now and then, and the Human got to plan most of their more complicated events. He was able to bark orders and blow things up. What more could a man ask for?

But now it was serious. By all accounts, the Klin were coming in their black ships and with their killer robots. Estimates showed that less than a quarter of the population would have time to evacuate. He also read the intelligence on the Klin war machines and their capabilities. It wasn’t looking good for the Bannokfore.

To Gary, this seemed like a good time to make a strategic career change. He was thinking about returning to Earth, at least until things cooled down. But then he was offered command of the Bannokfore defense force, both native and Expansion. He would be the head honcho, the conductor of an orchestra nearly a thousand ships strong.

Seeing that supreme commanders seldom die in major battles, Gary Romaine accepted the promotion.

* * *

The Bannokfore star system was a minefield—literally. It also demonstrated to Gary Romaine how politics played a role in military planning as he struggled to gain the upper hand within his command.

He’d been against the deploying of mines in a static fashion, but not the politicians. They still didn’t comprehend that the Klin ships actually fed on energy, especially nuclear energy. Also, there were too few of them—mines, that is—and they covered a lot of space the Klin would probably never traverse. As a compromise, Gary was given operational control of all the weapons, allowing him to group them as necessary—if he had the time—and with his finger on the detonator. If a Klin ship did happen to run into one—which was highly unlikely—it would explode. But Gary would be able to cluster them around a VN-91 and detonate them all at once. If five explosions had been enough to drive the Klin away from G-nin Bor, how would they react to fifty or more going off at the same time? He was both anxious—and hesitant—to find out

This was his strategy: overwhelm the ships with more energy than they could handle. But that meant he had to get enough of the warheads on station before the VN-91 reached its destination. And with three hundred of the mines scattered across a vast expanse of space, it would take time to gather them at specific locations.

That’s why he also had over six hundred nuclear-tipped missiles aboard the ships of his fleet. The problem he saw with these weapons was they were slow and visible. Once launched, heir gravity signatures could be tracked, and with the speed at which lasers can pinpoint a target, a beam could be sent out and on to the next within milliseconds.

Gary had another idea in mind, but that would only come into play if—and when—the Klin attacked.

When the fortieth day came and went since the news that Bannokfore was a potential target—and still no Klin—the grumbling began. It was only supposed to have taken thirty-eight days. The Klin were overdue, if they were coming at all.

So it was with a modicum of relief that Gary watched the strange gravity signature as it appeared at the edge of the galaxy. He sent out word immediately to be on alert at the opposite side of the system, in case the Klin tried an end run as they did at G-nin Bor. Then he set his plan in motion.

“Give me a track, navigator,” he called out to his all-alien bridge crew. Translation bugs activated and a moment later the main viewscreen had the beeline course of the VN-91 up for all to see. No one had been able to predict where the enemy ship would first appear, so none were surprised when it came in above the ecliptic at a seventy-degree angle. The good thing—if that term applied—was there were no planets to get in the way. The ship had clear space all along the course with no place to hide.

Gary laughed at the thought. If anyone should be hiding, it should be us!

“Move the mines into position, the farthest out first. Do it quickly and then set them in dark mode.”

On the wide view, tiny red dots began clustering along the course but far ahead of the VN-91. Gary knew where they were, but they should be out of Klin range. They would be invisible to the enemy ship as it drew closer, their composite hulls designed to absorb detection signals. When the time came, Gary would press the button.

In the meantime, he moved other mines up behind the Klin vessel, matching speed with the six-mile long warship before also setting them to run dark. His own warships were out beyond five million miles from the track line, which to Gary seemed like a ridiculous requirement, but one he didn’t question. He had trouble comprehending a weapon that could reach out that far from its source. Only something with the energy of a laser and traveling at near the speed of light could make such a threat a reality.

Gary Romaine was in charge of nine hundred Bannokfore and Expansion warships. Most carried the nuclear missiles. Even then, if the nuclear blossom created by the mines didn’t work, he had no idea what the missiles could do against the invincible starship. Although Gary wasn’t a scientist by any stretch of the imagination, he had a sneaking suspicion that it would take technology to beat the Klin, not firepower. He was about to unleash the energy of a small nova explosion, with no guarantee of success against a single enemy ship. What could they do against hundreds of the black ships?

At the moment, Gary Romaine regretted he didn’t make the career change when he had a chance.

“Nearing frontal line,” an alien announced to the bridge crew. Gary didn’t take the time to identify his species—it didn’t matter. He was too absorbed watching the VN-91 approach the first line of twenty-five nuclear mines placed along its course.

The mines were actually set to either side of the enemy track so to avoid the effects of the maneuvering gravity-well the ship traveled by. It wouldn’t do to have all his super weapons sucked into a shallow event horizon before he even had a chance to use them.

But now the show was only moments away from starting. Gary wasn’t nervous; he’d been in numerous space battles before. Besides, his flagship was twenty-eight million miles away, well beyond the range of the Klin lasers. Others may die this day, but Gary Romaine wouldn’t be one of them.

“Detonate on my command,” he announced. “Three, two, one…detonate.”

Nuclear weapons of the time were powerful devices, well beyond anything ever built on Earth, and measuring out at around four hundred megatons each, and in space, that yield was multiplied five-fold. Without air pressure, gravity or friction to limit the expansion of the fireball, each explosion grew to a quarter the size of the Moon in matter of seconds. Now imagine a string of twenty-five such fireballs appearing suddenly along your path and you had the situation facing the Klin.

In actuality, intelligence reports indicated there would only one living Klin aboard the huge vessel, which to Gary was an incredibly efficient use of man—alien-power. The experts also said that even though the flesh and blood creature may be overcome by the intense radiation, the ship’s mission would continue, run automatically by computers and robots.

As predicted, the alien warcraft slowed to a relative stop, even as the forward waves of nuclear energy swept over its three-tier screen system and began absorbing energy as fast as it could. Intense laser beams flared out from the ship, shedding energy as fast as it could. Then the ship began to retreat, creating a small back-well the way it came.

That’s when Gary detonated the trailing mines.

The huge black ship was caught between two lines of twenty-five exploding mines each, one front, one back. As the vessel tried to maneuver horizontally, Gary gave the order to launch the missiles. This would be the moment of truth.

Although slow and visible, Gary was hoping the previous explosions had created an EMP effect within the black ship, at least enough to blind its sensors. The missiles were well within laser range, and the VN-91 certainly had enough energy to dance among the incoming targets and obliterate every one of them in a matter of seconds.

But to his joy, none of the blazing lasers locked onto the missiles. Instead, they continued to shoot beam of intense white light into space with no specific target in sight.

The missiles struck a lot closer to the VN-91 than the mines, some as close as twenty miles from the hull. The end came quickly for the black ship. When it could no longer absorb energy, it exploded, the great bulk being quickly lost in the growing nuclear inferno.

The bridge exploded in riotous cheers, in a variety of manners. But the message was clear. They’d scored the first verified destruction of a Klin VN-91. They proved it was possible. The invincible weapon of the Klin wasn’t so invincible after all.

Admiral, captain, Godfather—whatever you wanted to call him—Gary Romaine, let the celebration continue for another thirty seconds before he called the bridge to order. He’d read the reports. The Klin used two black ships against a much smaller and insignificant planet. He had trouble believing they would send only one against a Council World.

“Continue system monitoring,” he ordered. “They’ll probably hit us with another one anytime now.”

He checked his inventory. His three hundred mines were down to two-fifty, and most of them were scattered across the system. It would take time to create another concentration. He had plenty of missiles, around four hundred of those. The good thing, he hadn’t lost a single vessel in the attack.

“My lord, contact…correction, contacts detected.”

Gary didn’t like the sound of that. He left his command chair and went to the proximity screen. His ship was linked to others at the edge of the system; he was too far out to detect the intrusion himself. What he saw on the screen turned his blood cold.

There were three waving gravity signals, the distinctive signature of the Klin VN-91s. The dual blackholes for each ship canceled out most of the warping of space associated with gravity drives. The ships were virtually undetectable in deep-wells. Only when they dropped to sub-light could they be seen.

And now Gary had three distinct signatures on his screen.

In this particular case, he hated being right. The Klin had indeed made this system a priority, enough to send four VN-91s to do the job. He scanned his mine locations. The Klin signatures were separating, spreading out to approach the planet from different directions. That might help, by allowing more of his disbursed mines to be brought into play.

“Plot their courses! Get them on the screen.”

As before, straight-line tracks were plotted. He might have a chance if they stayed steady, allowing Gary to position his weapons where they could do the most good. He began barking orders, firing up the small gravity drives on each of the remaining mines and moving them into the path of the three Klin warships.

At the same time, he was moving his fleet. It was harder now keeping them out of harm’s way, with the three tracks to consider. Some of his units slipped within range, but the VN-91s weren’t charged for a long-range attack, not yet. His ships moved to safety without a problem.

Gary shook his head. It was taking too long. The Klin ships were getting closer to Bannokfore and he was still having trouble clustering enough mines to the rear of the tracks. The mines were laid thinner toward the outer edges of the system. He didn’t have enough to effectively cut off the retreat of the Klin if he had to.

Dammit, he had no choice. He had to go now.

“Detonate…all forward mines!”

It took almost two and half minutes for the light from the one hundred forty-eight nuclear explosions to reach the flagship. That was about the same time it took it reach Bannokfore. The flash was incredible, brighter than anything anyone had ever seen this side of a supernova. The overlapping balls of fire spread across space creating the largest artificial-created event in history.

Gary worried that even though they may save the planet Bannokfore from the Klin, the incredible amount of deadly radiation he was releasing in the system would eventually overwhelm the planet’s magnetic field and bombard the surface, mimicking the effects of a gamma ray burst. Life would end on Bannokfore—all life—and more than the Klin could ever hope to achieve.

“They have stopped their advance,” someone reported.

“Detonate the trailing units.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

The accompanying flash was significantly dimmer than the first, as only eighty mines were left to stop the Klin’s retreat. The ships were moving, but not as expected.

With lasers shooting from the surface of the hulls like needles on a porcupine, the three alien ships changed course, one up, one down and another straight through the maelstrom. The courageous center ship shot for the planet. It didn’t make it far before taking in more energy than it could expel. This time no one cheered when the second Klin ship exploded. They knew what was coming next.

Gary gave the order for the missiles to be launched, but the two remaining VN-91s were moving away and using evasive maneuvers to avoid the incoming. They made it past the gauntlet and closed on Bannokfore. Nearly a thousand warships, many the most powerful ships the Expansion had ever built, stood helpless as the black ships made orbit around the planet. Planetside cameras picked up flicking silver clouds of tiny objects falling from the aft sections of the two ships. Minutes later the sky was filled with over six million black parachutes delivering the Klin’s killer robots to the surface.

Seven billion creatures were still on the surface of Bannokfore. They were organized into massive armies and provided with the latest and most powerful weapons, both handheld and mechanical. They would put up a fight, just as all the other worlds invaded by the Klin. It wouldn’t matter. The mindless killers would continue to destroy everything in sight, protected for the most part by individual diffusion shields. Each AN-9 robot carried a variety of offensive weapons and defensive measures. Tens of thousands would be destroyed by the defenders, but not enough to make a difference.

Gary Romaine watched the flood of videos images coming in from the surface. What the radiation would have eventually done to the planet, the Klin would do in a couple of weeks.

Bannokfore, home to the seventh most-powerful civilization in the galaxy, was lost.

* * *

“Why have you brought me to see this?” asked Senior Fellow Sumlis. “I have heard of the operation at Bannokfore. I approve.”

The Klin and Robert McCarthy were in a comm room of a VN-91 as the CW feed showing the destruction of the Council world was coming in. Two of the black ships had been brought in for the evacuation of the Klin from the planet Corfer. Although the ships were big, most of the interior was taken up by the laser weapons and the generators required to produce the blackhole pairs unique to the gravity drive. There wasn’t a lot of room for the evacuees. It would take twenty-four trips to move the population.

“I wanted you to see the preparations the Expansion made to defend the planet,” Robert told the Klin.

“And their preparations paid off in the destruction of two of our VN-91s.”

“There are seven more coming online within thirty days. It was no great loss.”

“Then I don’t understand why I am here.”

“The preparations, Senior Fellow,” Robert answered. “They were extensive and well-planned.”

“And?”

“And they would only have done that if they had advance knowledge of the attack.”

The Klin stared down at the shorter Human. “Then I amend my prior statement. Adam Cain did survive, and he communicated his findings to the Expansion.”

“That’s right.” Robert always loved it when a Klin had to admit he was wrong.

“What other secrets did you reveal to your fellow Human which he has now relayed to his allies?”

The question caught Robert off guard. “Nothing. He knows of Silea, but only as a backup for Bannokfore. Its destruction three weeks from now will come as a shock. They will have lowered their defenses by then, believing Bannokfore was our only target outside the main front.”

“And where is Adam Cain now?”

“I don’t know, but more-than-likely he was in command of the forces at Bannokfore. Two of our ships were destroyed. It sounds like something he could do.”

“Your invincible ships, I should add. What do we to do now? The galaxy knows the ships can be defeated.”

“It doesn’t matter. There aren’t enough nuclear weapons in the galaxy to stop us. And besides, all we have to do in change up the in-system arrival procedures a bit—become less predictable—and they won’t be able to cluster enough weapons to stop us. The defeat at Bannokfore—and Silea—will only reinforce how helpless they are against us.”

“That is good, although unproductive,” said the Klin. “We seek not their capitulation, but their humiliation. Should we not increase our rate of conquest? There are many more worlds to destroy.”

“That’s been scheduled, Senior Fellow. Another year and we will have enough VN-91s to sweep across the galaxy leaving a trail of fire and brimstone behind us.”

The Klin frowned. “I do not understand the reference.”

“We’ll make an impression, that’s what it means. You’ll get your galaxy, Sumlis, the galaxy you and your people have always felt was rightfully yours.”

“It is not for revenge that we seek control, Robert McCarthy.” Sumlis knew Robert hated it when he called him by his father’s name, but still he did it. “It is because we know better how to manage a galaxy. We always have. In time all will understand what we know.”

Robert smiled at the silver being. Delusional son-of-a-bitch, he thought. They all are.

20

The crew of the Nautilus sat in shock, watching the CW broadcast in the common room of the huge freighter. The Klin had destroyed a lot of worlds, yet this was the first one they had intimate knowledge of, with the exception of Copernicus and Arieel.

Silea.

The unofficial capital of the Fringe, the home of Kroekus—when he was alive—a world with memories…of tastes and smells, of sounds and places. This was more than just a name. This was real. Adam knew the planet. And now it was being overrun by hordes of mindless killer robots controlled by a Human named Robert McCarthy.

“He didn’t have to do this,” Sherri said, her voice low and even. She was beyond tears; she was spitting mad. “Bannokfore…that was enough.”

“He’s making a point,” Adam remarked. “He’s saying he can do anything he damn well pleases.”

“At this point, he’s right,” said Riyad. It was on Silea twenty-six years ago that a recent Human abductee named Riyad Tarazi had been sold to the Fringe Pirates, setting in motion a long and circuitous series of events that now placed him aboard the rusted freighter and a week out from Earth.

Kaylor laughed, startling most in the room. “I know the Kroekus family will have left before the attack. There was warning.” He and Jym had the most experience with the planet, using it as their primary source of shipping business for twenty years before meeting Adam.

Kroekus and his relatives had ruled the planet for over a thousand years, not officially, of course, but through their many businesses and political connections. Kaylor was right. They would have been the first to board private starships for safer climes. From what the reports were saying, the Expansion had sent defensive units to the planet, but when Bannokfore was destroyed—and no attack hit Silea—most of the defenders left. Then came the Klin. The black ships met only a smidgeon of resistance; a handful of nukes set off which did nothing more than charge their lasers.

Video crews were wrapping up their broadcasts and preparing to take company ships off the planet, joining anyone with the money or the means in a mass exodus. The galaxy had learned that once the robots landed, that was it. No need to fight…just run. It was the only way to guarantee survival. This left the less-fortunate to suffer the true brunt of the Klin invasion. Even if they survived, their future would be a living nightmare.

Adam looked around the room. “Where’s Arieel?”

“She left after the video began.”

Adam sensed her on the bridge. He went to join her.

The Formilian was at the comm station, speaking again by CW link with Earth.

“My people are experts at power systems and electronics,” she was arguing. “Even if the system is not as originally prescribed, I have confidence we can get it to work.”

“I’m sorry Madam Speaker, but our scientists are very close to a breakthrough. We prefer to work the problem out here. Besides, transporting the ship all the way to Formil could be dangerous, especially in the present environment.”

Arieel looked at Adam as he entered the room. Her face was flush and her neck tense. He stood back, out of view of the camera. “The vessel was in the command of Captain Cain prior to its damage. How can you now deem it a security risk if he has access to the ship again?”

“That decision came from a higher authority. I am sorry.”

Although he couldn’t see the face of the officer on the screen, he knew the man had fought tooth-and-nail to be the one to speak with Arieel. All the men in the technology department at Phoenix command were waiting in line to gawk at the ravishing female, if only to tell her no. That was why Adam made Arieel his spokesperson.

During the long trip to Earth, a plan was hatched, a multi-phase operation depending on how each element built on the other. The first part was simply to ask for the TD ship. With Arieel’s sex appeal and political clout, she was guaranteed an audience for her request. If they said yes, then the rest of the plan wasn’t needed. If no, then alternate plans were already in the works.

So far, they’d said no, even to Arieel.

“Then allow us access to work on it. I have with me three of the most-experienced starship engineers in the galaxy. Their contribution cannot hurt.”

“You have asked for this before,” said the young officer. “Your request is still pending, yet I can’t promise anything. The ship is in a very secure area with access given to only a select few. Your people would have to go through extreme vetting to be allowed entry.”

“Even for me? Even for the leader of the Formilian race? Is there not a diplomatic accommodation that can be made?”

“That would have to go through political channels. I do not have the authority, and neither does anyone else in the department. Again, I am sorry.”

“I am at a loss as to my next inquiry,” Arieel said, close to tears.

The young Human was almost in tears himself seeing the gorgeous alien about to cry. “Please, call back tomorrow. I will see what I can do. Ask for Captain David Palmieri when you do.”

“Thank you, Captain Palmieri. You have been very supportive. When I reach Earth, I would very much like to meet you in person.”

Adam could imagine the joy on the man’s face after Arieel’s invitation. She cut the link and turned to him.

“You Humans are so easy,” she declared, all trace of her impending breakdown gone.

“I just wish your young admirer had more clout. This would be a done deal if he did.”

“I would make it worth his efforts. He was quite handsome.” Then her face turned serious. “I am so saddened by the news of Silea. Bannokfore was a tragedy in its own right, but Silea came as a surprise. I wish I had gone there before this. Most of you speak highly of the planet.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. It’s just that several of us have spent considerable time there. It’s not the best place around, but it wasn’t the worst, either.”

“Perhaps when we accomplish this newest mission, you will have the means to avenge this tragedy, and all the others before it.”

“Revenge isn’t what I want. I just want all this fighting to end. It seems every time I turn around someone is trying to conquer the galaxy. Honestly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about. There’s plenty of room for everyone.”

“It is the way of creatures, to always covert what belongs to another.”

“And that is what keeps us in business.”

21

The Nautilus set down on one of the huge landing fields south of the main complex that made up Phoenix Command, the headquarters of the Orion-Cygnus military. The political hub for the Union was also in the area, the result of Phoenix being one of only a handful of major cities to survive the initial plasma bombing by the Juireans twenty years ago. Now the city was the center of the Union universe, spreading out for a hundred miles in every direction.

With the help of translation labels on packages in the sickbay, Sherri was able to find an adrenaline-based drug that space crews used to temporarily overcome the effects of higher gravity, at least long enough for them to deliver their goods and leave. This would help the three aliens aboard accomplish their missions; Arieel had to flirt with the security personnel, while Kaylor and Jym had assignments of a different nature.

The Technology and Development section of the huge military complex was located to the southwest of the main cluster of buildings. If the TD ship was anywhere on the base, it would be there. Adam had Kaylor set the Nautilus down at the far west corner of the landing field. As prodigious clouds of landing exhaust cascaded across the tarmac, the border fence was obscured, as were a number of nearby spaceships.

Air traffic controllers began yelling through their microphones at Kaylor, telling him he was coming in too far west. The panicked alien tried to compensate, which only caused the tail of the freighter to smash down on to the corner of the barrier, taking with it the security camera covering this part of the field. As the ship rumbled to a stop and smoke clouds faded into the gray of evening, Kaylor tried to make amends.

“I apologize profusely,” he said to the airmen. “I have never tried to land such a large vessel upon a planet with such high gravity. I am fortunate I did not come at a steeper angle, otherwise we would have ended in a fireball.”

The military personnel didn’t accept his apology without a few more rounds of yelling, but eventually they calmed down when they read on their computer screens that Captain Adam Cain was aboard. Their tone changed significantly after that.

Two jeeps arrived along the aft portside of the ship a few minutes later; the starboard side was sitting on top of a crunched section of fencing and inaccessible. The port cargo bay door opened and Adam stepped out into the cool October air of the southwestern desert. It felt good to smell the scent of home, and the familiar tug on his body from Earth’s gravity. Copernicus Smith came up beside him.

“There’s no place like home,” he recited.

“That’s why we do what we do, to make sure it stays that way.” Adam shook Coop’s hand. “Good luck. See you in a while.”

“Yessir.”

Adam climbed into one of the jeeps and it sped off. Arieel, Kaylor, Jym and Copernicus crowded into another. Sherri and Riyad would stay aboard the Nautilus. Their objective lay elsewhere.

* * *

The Technology and Development building was big and modern; ten stories of research labs, conference rooms and offices where the most-brilliant minds on Earth worked tirelessly, if not to stay ahead of the aliens scientifically, then at least not to let them get too far ahead. Humanity had come a long way over the past twenty years, since the first Juirean warships appeared in orbit above the planet and began their rain of energy bolts on an unsuspecting population. Even before then, the Klin and the traitorous 2Gs were helping mankind with advanced technology—just enough to make the natives think they were helping.

Now the Humans were on their own and making incredible headway, utilizing a unique talent of thinking one step ahead to stay in the game. The phrase ‘What If?’ was emblazoned over the main entrance to the building, and every day the staff came to work, they lived that motto.

In a corner office on the top floor was the head of the department, an Air Force general named Paul Sharp. Adam had met him six years before, and they’d struck up a cordial friendship. The general—a scientist with two master’s degrees in physics and mechanical engineering—hadn’t spent much time off planet, although he interacted with aliens every day. He was fascinated with Adam’s tales of intergalactic space and lived vicariously through his adventures. At seventy-three, the general wasn’t about to start a second career as an old Hans Solo, so Adam would have to do.

The general was still in his office at seven in the evening when Adam was escorted in. He rose from behind his desk and came around to greet the Navy captain with genuine warmth. “Thank you, sergeant. You’re dismissed.”

Paul sat at one end of a long leather couch, Adam at the other.

“What’s that piece of junk you’re flying?” Sharp asked.

“A target of opportunity, sir. At least it runs.”

“For now.”

An aide entered with drinks—real whisky from a bottle and not a processor.

“Welcome home, Adam,” the general toasted.

They clinked glasses and downed the potent golden liquid. Adam’s eyes began to water; it had been so long since he had the real stuff that he’d forgotten how strong it was.

“I won’t be staying long, general, just enough to see if my people can get the Najmah Fayd running again.”

Sharp shook his head. “You know, even if they do, you can’t take her out.”

“Dammit, Paul, I’ve flown her for years and no one had a problem with it then.”

Sharp raised his eyebrows. “No one had a problem? Hell, we sent Andy Tobias into another universe to stop you—may he rest in peace. The truth is we never felt comfortable with you running all over the galaxy—and other galaxies—with the greatest technological weapon of all time.”

“If it’s so damn dangerous, why are you trying to get it working again?”

The general smiled; a wicked smile. “It’s only dangerous if it falls into the hands of our enemy. As long as we have it, we’re okay with that.”

“I thought so.”

“So what makes you think this Copernicus guy and the two aliens can get it running? We have the best minds in the Union working on it, including alien minds.”

“They’ve been part of my crew for a long time; they’ve operated the ship and made repairs. I know, Panur built the original system, but they’ve been tweaking it ever since.”

Sharp let out a deep breath. “It’s against my best judgement, but your people are being taken down to it as we speak. Who knows, you may be right.”

“Down?”

Sharp snickered. “Relax, Captain. You knew it had to be in a secure location. And although I love you like a son, I trust you about as far as I can throw you, which ain’t far at my advanced age.”

“You could if you were on Ansid-4. Hell, you’d be a superman there.”

Sharp leaned over a little closer. “Ansid-4? I’ve never heard of it. Tell me more….”

* * *

An elevator took Arieel, Coop, Kaylor and Jym down five floors to where the Najmah Fayd—soon to be rechristened the Defiant—was stored. It was at the base of a large aircraft lift which was currently cut off from the surface by three successive blast doors. It had been moved here once the basic structural repairs were made, after the brutal beating the ship took from the trailing remains of the planet Nuor as the team returned from the Andromeda Galaxy.

They were accompanied by three Air Force MP’s and two scientists, both of which looked angry and impatient. They’d spent eighteen months working on the power system of the TD ship, and now these newcomers thought they could spend a few minutes in the ship and solve the problem they couldn’t.

The guards, on the other hand, had other things on their mind.

Arieel Bol, the Speaker of the Formilian People, was well known across the galaxy. Although most of the females on her planet could put her to shame, she was the one with the most exposure off planet. In fact, it was a pretty good bet that at least one of these young men had posters or videos of the alien sexpot in their lockers or barracks.

But it was exposure that had their attention now.

Arieel was dressed—using the term loosely—in a metallic silver outfit, comprised of a form-fitting pair of short-shorts and two pair of three-inch wide straps climbing up the front of her voluptuous body and attached to a choker around her neck. To the disappointment of the airmen, two of the straps conveniently covered her nipples—which were currently in the process of protesting the cool forced-air found on the lower floor. Her and Sherri had made the outfit out of thin blanket of thermal material found in the Nautilus’ sickbay. They didn’t use more than one blanket to make the entire garment, and with material left over.

The senior guard ordered one of them to stay at the elevator while the rest of them moved down a corridor and into a large open bay where the Najmah Fayd was found. They entered through the forward hatch and moved along the spine passageway to the aft engine area.

All four members of the team knew the ship intimately and didn’t need guidance. They stopped along the passageway and Kaylor slid open a side panel in the wall, exposing a complex maze of computers and modules joined together by thick wire connectors.

“What do you think?” Kaylor asked Coop and Jym. They studied the interior with furrowed brows before nodding.

“I see,” said Jym.

“As we thought,” Coop confirmed.

“What?” asked one of the scientists.

“The lateral compensator diaphragm is misaligned.”

The two scientists buried their chins in their chests.

“That’s gibberish. It makes no sense.”

“Then perhaps the translation was not accurate,” Kaylor growled. “Let us look at the generators. I am sure it will make sense after we have a look.”

The entourage moved aft and entered the starboard engine compartment.

“Where are your McClaren connectors?” Coop asked. “They used to run from here—” he pointed to the base of the gravity generator, “—to here,” against the bulkhead.

“McClaren connectors? There’s no such thing as McClaren connectors!”

“And that is why they have not been able to solve the energy problem….” Jym said to his friends. He threw up his hands. “Well…there is nothing we can do here. It is hopeless.”

“I agree,” said Kaylor.

“Let’s get back to the ship; I’m hungry,” Coop remarked.

“Oh well, we tried.” Arieel bounced around until she found the exit and led the parade from the room. The scientists remained for a moment, stunned by the abrupt turnabout of events…and their apparent ignorance. They were the last to leave the ship.

Just as Coop pressed the up button on the elevator, Arieel squealed softly, threw her head back and passed out. Kaylor blocked the now-open door while Coop fell to his knees, separating the thin silver straps covering Arieel’s breasts and began to press down on them, performing CPR.

All the Human men stared—including the stuffy scientists—their mouths agape. Coop looked at the guard by the elevator door. “Hurry, man, start mouth-to-mouth! The gravity here is too much for her. She’ll die if we don’t get her heart pumping again.”

The airman jumped into action without a moment’s hesitation.

Kaylor moaned and fell against the elevator wall.

Coop looked up at another stunned guard. He reached out and took the man by the arm, placing his hand on top of Arieel’s very ample and firm left breast. “Here, take over. I have to get these other aliens back to the ship. Someone call an ambulance for the Formilian. Hurry…they could all die!”

Copernicus jumped to his feet and entered the elevator car. As he did, he turned sideways and activated a small vial of compressed air in his pocket, causing a life-size balloon resembling Jym to inflate on his right side. Immediately, a high pitched squeal sang out from inside the elevator.

Coop took the inflatable doll by the head, just as the guard with his hands firmly on Arieel’s breasts turned to look.

“He does this when he gets excited. Keep pumping; she could die if you stop.”

The guard followed orders, while Coop leaned across the doorway and pressed the close-door button.

None of the guards or scientists had the wherewithal to notice the real Jym slip out of the elevator and scurry down the corridor….

22

Sherri and Riyad scampered across the dark tarmac toward the end of a series of large, round-top hangars, their ATDs tracking any surveillance cameras in the area. There were a few, but the long arcs they had to cover gave the pair time to slip into the shadows, away from the solitary light above the entry door.

It was Riyad’s job to gain entry, having spent a couple of months aboard the Nautilus honing his skills at circumventing security devices. He’d experienced the electronic locks before, when he and Adam stole the first prototype starship a few years ago. Now he traced the circuits until he found a storage file with the code. He sent the signal to the door.

Hearing the faint click, the pair ran from the shadows and to the doorway before quickly slipping inside. It was dark inside the windowless hangar; Sherri created a small static electricity ball to light the interior.

Bingo. As suspected, the hangar held a shiny new version of the Najmah Fayd—the TD starship. There was a good chance each of the other two hangars at this end of the T&D grounds held one as well.

Sherri ran to a squat aircraft tractor along the western wall and disconnected the charging cables. Her ADT reported a full charge with plenty of juice for what they needed the tractor to do. She took control of the machine with her mind and then hurried off to meet Riyad in the pilothouse of the ship.

The prototype was not much more than a shell of a starship. Although it did have a functioning gravity drive, it lacked a battery pack to start the generators or a transfer module to turn it into a dimension-jumping supership. That would come once the scientists solved the power problem.

Sherri maneuvered the tractor under the front of the ship, where it slipped into a hitch located below the focusing ring compartment. The ship rocked slightly as the units meshed and locked together. The starship didn’t have wheels, but rather skids; however, since the ship had to be moved to various locations during its outfit, the skids were up on wheeled carts. Riyad mentally activated the controls for the large hangar door directly in front of the ship, and once clear, Sherri used the tractor to pull the ship from its home.

The doorway faced away from the main complex of buildings, and the security camera only scanned the front of the hangars and not around the back, allowing Sherri to pull it into the dark shadows at the back of the building. The team had checked the phases of the moon before planning their mission. There was a crescent rising later in the evening, but for now it was still below the horizon. The thieves managed to get the ship out and the door closed without being seen.

Sherri steered the tractor to the left, toward the security fence separating this part of the T&D grounds with the landing field to the east. It was a journey of five hundred yards.

When they got to the fence, the huge bulk of the rusted freighter rose up above them. The thing seemed a lot bigger as it sat on the ground, and a lot dirtier. Sherri thought it could really use a paint job.

The fence at this end of the landing field was crushed and broken—just as planned—and Sherri was able to drive the stolen starship up a wide loading ramp and into the open starboard side landing bay. Once inside, Riyad closed the huge door with the aid of his ATD.

We’re in, he reported.

Roger that, said Adam’s voice within his mind. I love it when a plan comes together.

23

Jym made it to the first intersection in the hallway without being spotted, the guards and scientists fully engrossed in helping Arieel recover. From his earlier visit, he knew there was a security camera at the end of hallway, just before entering the large underground hangar. He slid along the wall until he could see it.

Conjuring up a small static electricity ball, he moved the sparkling globe of light quickly in front of the lens, before racing to the end of the hallway and into the hangar. He dissolved the ball, its brief two-second life appearing as just a brief loss of signal in the security shack, and not worthy of further inquiry. The camera was working fine now.

Jym entered the Najmah Fayd and rushed to the hallway module compartment. He reached under the back of his jacket and removed an eighteen-inch long metal contraption made of articulated parts. He pulled it apart to form a small cart with four tiny wheels. There as a coil of twine attached to one end. He set it on the floor before turning his attention to the electronics compartment.

There was a black module facing him, with a small gauge panel at the upper left side, now dark. Securing brackets to the left and right held the module, with four levered arms locking it in place. Jym released the levers and removed the module. In Earth’s gravity, the black box was heavier than he expected. It fell through his hands and to the metal deck. A loud clank echoed throughout the starship.

Jym sucked in a deep breath and waited, listening for any signs of detection. After a few seconds, he got back to work.

He reached down and removed a one-inch diameter metal rod from the small cart. He placed it against the securing brackets on the right side of the gap where he’d removed the black box. It snapped magnetically into place. Next, Jym pulled on a small lip running the length of the rod and stretched out a thin, opaque membrane over the opening. The metal along the edge of the screen was magnetic as well and latched onto the brackets on the other side of the opening. Through his ATD, he activated the small control module in the rod and a stark, 3-D image of the black module appeared on the screen. It was a picture Jym had taken of the unit a few minutes ago with a hidden camera as he and the team examined the control compartment.

Next, he lifted the module onto the cart and tied it down with a series of cross straps. Then he took off up the corridor, pulling the cart behind him.

Jym was winded and dizzy by the time he reentered the hangar. Earth’s gravity was oppressive, even with the aid of the compensating drugs. He was reaching the end of their effectiveness…and he still had a long way to go.

He slipped under the front of the TD starship and walked rapidly to the far wall. He was beyond the ability to run—scurry, in his case—so a brisk walk would have to do. He looked up and found what he was looking for. It was an air vent set about ten feet up the metal wall—and about five feet out of his reach.

Spying a roll-away tool chest, Jym moved the red multi-drawer cart to below the vent. He climbed on top and reached for the screen. As he did, the cart rolled away, careening toward the Najmah Fayd, taking Jym with it. It slammed against the metal hull, sending another round of unwanted noise bouncing off the walls of the hangar.

Jym didn’t wait to find out if he was heard. Instead, he hopped off the cart and pushed it back against the wall, this time locking the wheels in place with the aid of built-in brakes. Panting heavily, he climbed back on top of the cart.

The vent cover was held closed by two winged levers along the bottom. He twisted them and lifted the cover away on hinges along the top. Jym’s people were tree climbers, so it wasn’t too difficult for him to make his way into the two-foot square metal duct. He sat up and began to pull on the cord attached to the cart holding the module.

This turned out to be the hardest part of his mission to date. In normal gravity, it wouldn’t have been too hard to lift the cart and unit, but Earth’s gravity was not normal. He strained and groaned lifting the load, saved only by the extra strength Fulquins carried in their arms, again a product of their tree-climbing ancestry.

When the cart was in the conduit, Jym lay on the cold metal for several moments catching his breath. But he knew his fatigue was from more than just exertion, and the longer he delayed, the heavier toll gravity would take on his body. He got to his hands and knees and began to move along the metal tunnel, towing the cart behind him.

He followed the guidance of his ATD to lead him toward the circulation system’s main control hub. This involved him climbing up vertical shafts and lugging the cart up after him. His heart was pounding and his fur soaked in sweat. Add to that the cold air sweeping over his body and he was a shivering, wet mess by the time he reached the control room.

He opened a vent screen and fell to the floor, the cart tumbling in after him. At this point, he didn’t care if the module was damaged or if anyone heard the crash of the cart; he truly believed he wasn’t going to live long enough for it to matter—at least to him.

After a moment’s rest be rolled onto his stomach and looked around the room. There had to be an intake vent bringing air in from the surface. He studied the layout of the machinery, until—there it was, on top of the main fan unit.

He figured he was only one level below the surface, having climbed four from the starship hangar. Just one more to go….

His mental cheerleading was enough to get him moving again. He climbed above the fan unit and opened a side vent on the vertical conduit. Air blasted out, nearly knocking him off his perch.

This is great, he thought. Now I will have to fight a strong inflowing current.

Or did he?

Jym accessed the control computer for the ventilation system and shut it down. Alarms may go off, but he didn’t care. He just needed to get to the surface.

Like before, he climbed the vertical shaft using pressure from both his hands and feet before coming to an opening at the end of sharp one hundred eighty degree bend in the pipe. There was a thick metal grate across the opening.

Jym was at the point of no return. Either he was going to get through the grate or he would die here and now. Out of desperation, he brought forth a static electricity ball, placing it in direct contact with one of the bars of the grate. He tightened the ball until the light and heat were almost too much for him to bear. He didn’t care if the light could be seen from space. He just wanted the metal to melt.

Fortunately, the curve in the pipe kept the light confined to a small area of the cement below the grate, and when the bar broke, Jym created another ball on the bar next to it. Eight bars later, the grate fell away, along with Jym’s near comatose body.

This time it was a full five minutes before he moved again. The cool night air was cathartic, and he managed to gather the strength to lift the cart holding the TD module up and out through the pipe.

But that was it; Jym wasn’t going any farther.

Adam…help.

I’m here, Jym. Are you okay?

No. I am at the point of collapse.

Where are you?

Outside a vent pipe.

I’m scanning the area with one of the ship’s cameras. I know your direction; give me a signal.

Jym’s was so exhausted even thinking came hard. Yet he was able to bring up one last energy ball, if only for a few seconds.

I see you. Locking onto your ATD. Hold on, I’ll get you out of there.

* * *

Adam had never tried to remotely create an air cushion before; he didn’t even know if he could. He was on the bridge of the Nautilus with Sherri and Riyad by his side. Copernicus and Kaylor were just now being dropped off outside by an obliging airman with a Jeep, and Arieel would be along anytime.

Closing his eyes so he could concentrate on the image within his mind, Adam focused on Jym’s ATD location, forming a circle five feet in diameter around the signal. He brought in ribbons of air along the surface of the concrete pad, and when he thought it was solid enough, began to move it upwards.

The module…it is beyond the radius! Jym called out in his mind.

That’s all right. I’ll come back for it after you’re safe.

Jym didn’t protest. Instead, his body was gently lifted into the air until he was high enough to clear the security fence. He was nearly a mile away, but soon Sherri and Kaylor greeted him at the portside landing bay with a life-saving dose of the gravity drug.

In his mind, Adam traced the path back to the vent pipe. The problem: he didn’t know where the TD module was. It gave out no energy signal and the camera aboard the Nautilus couldn’t define the image, not at that distance and at night.

So Adam formed an air cushion twenty feet in diameter this time. He felt a break in the cushion’s integrity as it swirled around the thick metal pipe set in concrete. But once it climbed high enough to leave the pipe behind, the cushion formed up more evenly.

He was relieved when Riyad reported that he’d caught the TD module and it was safely in the landing bay.

Now all he had to do was retrieve Arieel.

* * *

Arieel Bol was in a small medical room attached to the security shack. It wasn’t much more than a first-aid center with a green military ambulance parked outside, the one that had brought her here a few minutes before.

Her chest was aching from the constant pumping of rough hands on her skin. Humans were extremely strong and they didn’t realize the fragility of her Formilian body. Out of desperation, she had sat up in the ambulance on the way here, proclaiming herself to be well. But that didn’t stop the medical staff—along with the three security guards who accompanied her—from continuing to assist with her recovery. They dabbed her forehead with wet clothes, wrapped pressure monitors around her arm and placed cold metal objects on her bare chest. She was dazed and unaware of her nakedness. Even if she had been, this was her duty to the mission, and by all the attention she was receiving, her mission was a success.

But now she had to get back to the ship.

She absently placed the thin metallic fiber straps over her breasts, inviting collective moan in the room. “I must return to my ship. I cannot tolerate this gravity any longer.”

“We have drugs that can help you,” said a Human with a white robe over his clothing, his voice anxious.

“That would only be temporary. I need permanent relief.”

“Of course. We’ll take you there immediately. But first, can we get a group photo…just so we can prove we met such an important dignitary?”

“Of course,” said Arieel, lighting the room up with her smile. “And tell them how you saved my life. I will be forever in your debt.”

* * *

A few minutes later, Adam met the ambulance at the portside docking bay entrance. The back doors opened and there was Arieel, along with eight men: six airmen and two Navy corpsmen. They helped her out the back and up to Adam. Some of the men saluted, others were too distracted to care.

Adam lifted the weak-kneed alien into his arms, using his mutant-enhanced muscles to make it appear effortless. Arieel wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled her head against his chest.

“It’s all right boys,” Adam said with a wicked grin. “I’ll take it from here.”

As he walked up the ramp to the landing bay, he heard though his enhanced senses one of the men remark, “Lucky bastard.”

Yes, yes he was.

* * *

All right, Kaylor, Adam said through his ATD. Give the men outside a little warning blast of exhaust gas, and then let’s get going.

I would if I could, Adam. We do not have clearance to lift-off.

With Arieel still in his arms, he walked the length of the ship to the bridge before setting her on one of the leather couches along the aft bulkhead. Sherri was there with a shot of gravity drug.

Adam slipped into the comm station. “Link me with the tower,” he growled at Kaylor.

“This is Captain Adam Cain, requesting immediate lift-off clearance.” His image on the screen verified his identity.

“I’m sorry, Captain Cain, but you have no flight plan filed, and the area is a security zone. I need authorization from FlightCon.”

“Then get it. I have a critically ill alien dignitary aboard: Arieel Bol, the Formilian Speaker. I need to get her out of Earth’s gravity immediately or she’ll die. Do you want to be responsible for that, lieutenant? Do you?”

“Sir, I’m only following protocol.”

“Is that what you want to tell the Board of Inquiry at your Courts Martial?”

“Sir—”

“Give us clearance…now!”

On the video screen, the man looked both flushed and pale at the same time. Then he nodded. “Let me clear the air above you. As you know, the area around Phoenix Command has the highest concentration of flight traffic in the galaxy.”

“Thanks for the history lesson, now snap to it.”

“Yessir. Clearance granted. Proceed out along flight vector alpha-two, one hundred forty degrees southwest.”

Adam glanced over at Kaylor, who gave him a nod.

“Thank you, lieutenant. You just averted a major intergalactic incident.”

“Yessir. Good lu—”

Adam cut the connection.

Sherri was looking at him. “You sure can be a badass when you want to be. I’m sexually turned on at the moment.”

Adam winked at her. “I yam what I yam.”

24

It was cold this morning and both security guards had their jackets zipped up to their throats; however, the frigid desert air did help to revive their tired bodies in preparation of the coming day. They drove the open air electric transport up to Hangar 3-C and Airman Anthony Ortiz hoped out. He went to the door and punched in the security code while his partner, Sergeant James Hunter, watched the orange glow on the horizon indicating a sunrise only minutes away.

Ortiz stuck his head inside the hangar. Then he went inside.

Hunter watched his partner, wondering why he went inside the hangar? It was just a visual inspection and notation in the datapad.

Wanting to stretch his legs in the chill of morning, Jim Hunter climbed from the vehicle and went to join his partner. When he pushed open the door and stepped inside, he found out what the problem was.

“They must have it over refitting, or perhaps testing.” Ortiz said.

“Yeah, I heard some bigshots came in last night to look at the one down in the bunker. Maybe they made a breakthrough. And did you see the picture the nightshift left in the shack? Damn.” Hunter checked his datapad.

“No shit, lucky bastards. Even so, whoever took the ’X out didn’t log it.”

“We better,” said Ortiz, “otherwise it will be our asses.”

“I’ll check with the shack to see if they know anything about it.” The Air Force E4 fingered his shoulder comm unit. “Hey Mike, this is Jim out at #3.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you have any record of XR-3 being moved? It’s not in its hangar.”

“Well, I’m sure it didn’t just decide to take a leisurely morning stroll. And who would want to steal a shell of a starship?”

“It’s not here, and there’s no record of it being taken out.”

“All right, let me check.”

A moment later a more concerned-sounding Airman Mike Walters came on the line. “I have no record of it either. I’ll call over to Testing and see if they have it over there. Stay where you are until I confirm.”

Forty minutes later the base was abuzz with activity. After much confusion and finger-pointing, it was concluded that the prototype vessel XR-3 was indeed missing, and when this information reached the upper floors of the main T&D building, all hell broke loose.

General Paul Sharp had spent the night in his office, first entertaining his guest Captain Adam Cain, and then jacked up on worry that something was about to happen. After the ugly space freighter left the base, he was able to relax, finally falling off to sleep around oh-three-hundred. Four hours later he was wide awake and taking the short elevator ride down to the underground bunker holding the TD starship.

He knew it was it there; that had already been confirmed. But was it all there? That was the question. And why would Cain take a starship without a power component. His analytical mind was already coming to a conclusion even before he looked into the control compartment.

Early investigators had discovered the video screen. It was a rather crude method of hiding the theft, and unnecessary as it turned out. Cain was long gone by the time of the discovery.

Sharp put a comm pad to his mouth. “Get me the tower.” he barked.

“Phoenix Tower, Senior Chief Rebecca Ferguson speaking. How can I help you sir or ma’am?”

“This is General Sharp. Call up the lift-off logs for last night, those from the T&D fields.”

“Sir, I will need your authorization code.”

Sharp grit his teeth. “Sierra one, one four,” he groaned. He was in no mood for protocol.

“Yessir. Just a moment, sir.”

The air traffic control officer came back on the line. “Yessir. One vessel, a non-designated freighter called the Nautilus. Landed sixteen forty-five yesterday afternoon, departed twenty-one eighteen the same evening.”

This was information the general already knew. “Where did it go? That’s what I want to know.”

“System Control had the vessel following prescribed course out to marker forty-two, at which time it initiated an unauthorized class one gravity-well and left the system.”

“Did they maintain the course?” For a millisecond after a gravity-well was established, a tiny streak in the space-time continuum was created, indicating the direction of the well.

“Course was consistent, sir. A violation has been charged for the early well creation and has been posted in the log, should the vessel enter any Union-controlled airspace.”

“Thank you, Chief.” He cut the line and made another call.

“Union Space Command, senior watch commander Captain Randal Simms speaking.”

“Captain, this is General Sharp.”

“Yessir, pleasure to speak with you again.”

“This isn’t a social call. Alert outer perimeter security to be on the lookout for an old Expansion freighter that left the system along the alpha-two corridor at around oh-two hundred. They will more-than-likely be using evasive maneuvers by this time. This is a T&D Alpha-One emergency. The ship is believed to be carrying stolen technology vital to the Union.”

“Yessir. I’ve sent out the alert. Probable destination?”

“Formil. The planet’s supreme leader is aboard—”

“Arieel Bol?” asked the Air Force officer.

“Yes, that’s the one,” said Sharp impatiently. “She was pressing for us to release certain classified material to her for transport to the planet. Captain Adam Cain is with her.”

“Adam Cain!”

“Captain, dispense with the hero worship. Concentrate and do your job.”

“Yessir, sorry, sir.”

“Place watches along the route, and revoke all privileges for Captain Cain. He is to be stopped and confined at the earliest opportunity.”

“Sir, we’re restricted from direct security operations within Juirean territory at this time…but I will ask for cooperation from local sources.”

“Very good, Captain. Also, send a tracking unit out to their well-entry point and attempt to track the gravity wave. Formil may be their advertised destination, but there’s a good chance it was only a diversion.”

“I have assigned this a top priority, sir. We’ll find them.”

Sharp cut the link before letting out a deep sigh. He was frustrated and angry. He really liked Adam Cain, and now he saw he’d been played for a fool last night, lured into giving Cain and his team access to all he needed. It was never the Najma—whatever he was after. He wanted the TD module and a clone of the TD ship. And as for Sharp and his team…without the TD module, they had nothing.

Yet Sharp’s greatest fear wasn’t that Cain had the module and a starship to stick it in. It was that he might make it work.

25

“You cannot make it work?” Jym repeated, looking up at his illustrious leader. It was not a look of admiration, but one of frustration. “I thought that is why we went through all that trouble.”

“I’m working on it.”

Adam’s answer didn’t appease the tiny Fulquin, or anyone else in the hangar bay for that matter.

The team had moved a spare battery pack into the XR-3 and wired it to the generators. If need be, they could jumpstart the generators and get the gravity drive working. But if they shut it down for whatever reason, there would be no restart, not without the proper batteries. The rest of the power to the sleek, new starship was provided by a direct link to the Nautilus. It was fully powered, but just like with the scientists on Earth, the TD module sat idle. The indicator gauges were lit, but nothing was happening inside, not like before the Najmah Fayd had been torn apart.

“We’re four weeks out, Adam” said Riyad. “Do you think you can figure it out by then?”

Adam shook his head. “Let’s face it. If I can’t do it in four weeks, then another four years won’t make a difference.”

“Have you considered that the module may have been broken in the crash?” Sherri asked. “It may be impossible to make it work again.”

“That’s a possibility,” Adam admitted. “But that’s not how Panur built things. He made them to survive, even what the Najmah Fayd went through. But if something is broken inside, we need to find out what it is and fix it.”

“So where do we start?” asked Kaylor. He and Jym were anxious to get their hands dirty making the trans-dimensional starship operational. The only problem was they’d done everything they could to this point and still the damn thing didn’t work.

“Let’s go back to the beginning,” Adam began. “When Panur made his modifications, he only had the limited resources found on that planet where he and Lila were hiding.”

“Panur’s World,” Kaylor said.

“It had another name, but that’s what he called it. Knowing Panur like I do, most of his inventions were simple, built from things you can order on Amazon. That was his true genius. He took complicated concepts and found simple solutions to them. For the TD ship, he added some power components in the engine room, which the scientists were able to reverse-engineer. Then he built the module and slipped it into the control compartment. That was about it, and the thing worked. He was then able to create a small tear in the fabric of space and move between dimensions. It never seemed that complicated or stressful on the ship or the power systems. Now we have a brand new replica of the Najmah Fayd and the TD module inserted. We’ve all traveled by TD drive before. We know the signs and the flight indicators. We know when the system is operational and when it’s not. And right now it’s not.”

“That was a very good summary of the crap we’re in, Captain Cain,” said Sherri Valentine. “Now how about a solution?”

“That’s going to take some time,” he said. “And it certainly doesn’t help having the six of you standing around watching my every move. Scram, give me space. I have some mutant-enhanced thinking to do.”

Arieel stepped up to him and took his hand. “I have confidence in you, Adam. You’ll make it work…or we will all pay a terrible price for your failure.” She smiled and walked away.

* * *

The Nuorean Yonin Cavins (984) walked into the Master-Player’s compartment with purpose and approached the basic table Qintis Bondo (435) used as a desk. Yonin was second-in-command of the Nuorean force in the Kac, and therefore had authority to do so.

“Something important, Yonin?”

“It is not the Klin,” Yonin assured his superior. Both Nuoreans were ultimately concerned that their fleet may be discovered by the Klin. Because of this concern, Qintis had his people evacuate the planetside habitats they’d settled and re-boarded the nearly nineteen hundred starships making up their fleet. This allowed them to stay mobile and hidden between star systems, within the great void of space.

“No, this concerns our Great Nemesis.”

“Adam Cain?” Never in the history of the Nuoreans had one player acquired the status of a title. Adam Cain was the first. “What of him.”

“A curious development. There is a galaxy-wide watch out for him, with an apprehend-on-sight order.”

Qintis grinned. “Yes, we have tried that strategy ourselves, with disastrous effect.”

“This is different, Qintis. This order was issued by his own people, the Humans of Earth.”

“Now I am truly confused. Why has he fallen out of favor with his own kind?”

“I asked the same question,” said Yonin. “Before coming to you with this news, I applied some of the confiscated wealth we still have from our colony worlds and made inquiries. It appears he has absconded with some very important artifacts from Earth, items of military value.”

“Such as?”

“Information is not firm, but he has with him a transport module from his prior starship, the one that entered the Suponac and allowed him to wreck such havoc.”

“The trans-dimensional vessel? This is a module from that ship?”

“Yes, although it is rumored to be non-operational at this time. The Humans have been trying in vain to make it work.”

Qintis was excited. For nearly two years, the Nuoreans had studied various data involving Adam Cain and his miraculous starship. Yes, they knew of the capacities of the ship, and regretted the fact that those in the Suponac had been unable to acquire the vessel. With news of its near-destruction upon returning to the Kac, Qintis believed that to be the end of the story. Apparently it was not.

“He would not have jeopardized his fame and status unless he believes he can rebuild the device.”

“Qintis, can you imagine what we could do with a vessel such as that?”

“Yes, we could return to our galaxy—at least a small contingent of us—enough to inform others of our existence. It could spur accelerated action on building a new link with the Kac.”

“Yes. And we could be going home in a few decades, rather than lifetimes.”

Qintis thought for a moment before speaking again. “Gather all information regarding the location of Adam Cain.” He held up his hand to cut off the protest. “I know others are doing the same, but it must be we who succeed. Use our wealth to collect all information. There can be no higher priority than to find Adam Cain.”

26

For the second time in less than two years, Adam and his team were being hunted across the galaxy. However, redemption this time would only come if he got the TD module working and Lila and Panur on his team to help defeat the Klin. Nothing short of saving the galaxy—again—would save them.

Adam had locked himself away in the starboard landing bay, spending hours on end trying to solve the problem with the TD module. He’d come to the conclusion that unit was the issue and not some other component within the power line.

Panur’s mysterious black box had been off limits to researchers. They refused to break it open to learn its secrets, afraid they might not get it back together again. They tried x-raying it—and other more exotic alien technologies—to look inside. It was as if the irascible mutant had anticipated their efforts and placed shielding inside to confound their efforts.

He scrounged the Library for all the information it had on dimensional travel, as well as topics surrounding Panur and Lila. Yet in his quiet moments, his new ability at near-total recall brought up vivid memories of his past interactions with the short, gray alien.

Several years back, he’d left Panur alone for a week at his Lake Tahoe home. During that time, the mutant managed to completely rebuild the Pegasus into a supership, as well as construct a personal trans-dimensional portal in his garage. He did all this with components he bought online or at the local Home Depot. Panur was not about complicated. He was about simplicity—the simplest solution to a problem was the best.

So would he have converted the Najmah Fayd into a dimension-hopping starship by making the power supply something impossible to duplicate? Or would he have tried to do more with less…as he did everything else?

The question sparked a revolution in Adam’s thinking.

Using his enhanced ATD, Adam attempted to break through the barrier keeping him out of the module. Yes, even his ATD couldn’t trace the inner workings of the TD module. This was strange, since he’d never been blocked before from any system he sought to scan. How could Panur have known of the mental scans, and more importantly, why would be want to block them?

It wasn’t technically true that he couldn’t scan the unit. He hooked up an oscillator to the leads and ran various tests, using step waves, sine waves, box waves and more. Current was traveling through the unit, but having no effect on any of the components inside. He could follow this current with his mind, but it made a simple pass through the box without interacting with anything inside. It was as if the TD module was empty, except for a single power line running through it.

Could that be it? Could the box be a decoy, placed there by the mutant to confuse and confound anyone trying to duplicate his work? Adam couldn’t rule it out. Panur was a bastard that way.

Adam went back to the leads, forcing his mind to slow down as it entered the box. The power coursing through the unit was steady and unobstructed. He had to find some way to stop and look around, just to make sure there was something else in the box.

It was strange, fighting a current with his mind. Then he changed the frequency of oscillation, increasing the frequency so it would pulse at a much quicker pace. This didn’t affect the current running through the box, but it did give his mind less resistance, making it possible for him to linger a fraction of a second longer just inside the box.

And that’s when he noticed the bump. In reality, it was probably a relay of some kind. But in his mind it was a tiny hump off the main power line, an almost imperceptible bump in the smooth flow of electricity. Something was there, something that was closed.

Adam tried to place his mental probe into the tiny alcove, pushing out to see what was there. His mutant brains cells kicked into overdrive, both collating information while also refining the definition of this mental signal. He was in a trance, oblivious to everything except the tiny channel. He pushed even harder.

And then it opened.

It was as if he’d been pressing on a stubborn door that suddenly gave way. His mind fell forward, racing along streams and rivers of electricity, riding a crest that eventually escaped out the other side of the module.

He awoke from his trance to see the gauge on the unit reading a series of numbers he hadn’t seen in a couple of years. The unit was working.

And all he had to do was hit the reset button.

* * *

Adam ordered Kaylor to dump out of the gravity-well and the team raced to the landing bay in anticipation of the big reveal.

“I’m taking her out for a test.”

“Let me come with you,” Riyad said.

“It’s too dangerous. What if it jumps to another dimension and I can’t get back.”

“Yeah…what if?” Sherri protested. “Then you’d be lost, too. I don’t think we’d be happy if that happened.”

Adam smiled. “I appreciate your concern, sweetheart. But if something goes wrong, I’ll have the best chance of fixing it. I’ll load the ship up with spare parts, batteries—and food—just in case.”

“Is there not another way of testing it?” Arieel asked, concern on her face. “With the ATD, for instance?”

“ATD’s don’t work across dimensions. If it jumps, I’ll lose contact. Don’t worry. I’ll just pull back the curtain a little and take a peak on the other side. It should only take a few seconds to see if it works.”

“Then let’s get it over with,” Copernicus Smith said, bored with the whole we’re-so-concerned-about-you-Adam scene. “Even if it works, there’s still a lot to do. We don’t even know if we’ll be able to find the mutants.”

“You say the word mutant as if it is a bad thing, Copernicus,” Arieel said in defiance. “My daughter is a mutant.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. Mutants are good. They’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.”

“Yes they are—what?”

“All right,” Adam said, breaking up the minor dispute. “Let’s get the Defiant loaded and ready to go. This is the moment of truth.”

* * *

It took thirty minutes to pack the starship with all the tools, spare parts, batteries and other equipment Adam might need to correct anything that went wrong with the trans-dimensional jump, although no one knew what could go wrong. They were being overly cautious.

The external power lines were uncoupled and the rest of the team retired to a control room with a view of the bay. Adam entered the shiny new starship and sealed the hatch. His ATD was already linked into the controls, ready to serve as his co-pilot. The air was evacuated from the room and the aft door was opened.

The aft internal gravity-wells were dialed back, making the ship virtually weightless. Adam then gave a few small bursts of chemical propellant to lift the ship and send it floating out the back of the Nautilus tail first. When it was clear of the freighter, Adam spun the ship around and took her out a few thousand yards before matching the relative momentum of the Nautilus.

He was ready.

As Panur had explained long ago, trans-dimensional travel wasn’t so much a matter of distance but one of access. There were an infinite number of dimensions, all separated from each other by the width of a hydrogen atom—the first and most-basic building block of creation. Gaining access to these other dimensions was the trick. A disruption of the space-time continuum was required, and this was achieved through a series of counter-acting vibrations produced by the TD module. They were channeled through the ship’s systems utilizing the focusing ring setup. But rather than creating an intense point of gravity resulting in a miniature blackhole, the waves separated space to form a tear in the fabric of space.

The Klin had built massive land-based wave generators that tore open space across a wide swath, large enough to send entire fleets of ships between dimensions. This alerted the Sol-Kor and their genius scientist Panur of the existence of the Milky Way Galaxy and a level of technology which they could exploit.

But then Panur miniaturized his invention, bringing it down to a size where it would fit on an individual starship. This is what the leaders of the galaxy feared, a time when every ship had the capability to jump between dimensions, either to stay there, or to jump back in the Milky Way thousands of light years from where it had exited. Such vessels would be impossible to track or defend against. They could simply appear above a planet or behind a defensive line. No one would see them coming…until it was too late.

In the wrong hands, Adam admitted TD travel could be a terrible weapon. And as he prepared to trigger the controls that would open a portal to another universe, he snickered.

As long as this technology was in his hands, everything would be fine. In the hands of anyone else…not so much. Was that arrogance or what?

* * *

When a strange green glow appeared outside the Defiant, Adam knew the module was working. This was the tell-tale indicator of trans-dimensional travel. He dumped out of the jump and normal space returned—or at least normal space for this universe.

And that had been one of Adam’s major disappointments during his prior TD jumps. It seemed there were no exotic creations among the infinite number of universes. All were essentially a static version of all the others, with the same matter, the same laws of nature; hell, even the same variety of carbon-based lifeforms causing trouble for everyone else.

Neither in his universe nor in other dimensions—had he come upon any magic or supernatural events. Even if he didn’t understand the how of things, he knew there was a scientific explanation for…well, everything. It was only a matter of understanding, of learning.

He shook himself out of his melancholy. The TD ship was operational; he was in another universe. Now all he had to do was get back home.

He activated the controls and another green fog appeared outside the ship. When he closed the tear in time and space, he was back in his universe. Or was he?

The Nautilus was gone.

* * *

Adam was on the verge of panicking until he checked the starcharts and found he was in fact back in the Milky Way, just not where he’d left it. Time and space had currents, and even as he lingered in another universe, these currents shifted, both here and in the alien dimension. He’d drifted, and after some quick calculations, found he was about six light-years from the Nautilus.

The crisis wasn’t serious. A quick CW link to the Nautilus and the huge freighter was on its way. Adam could have activated the gravity drive in the Defiant and met them halfway. But he could only create a single deep-well event before the temporary batteries drained. If he had to dump out and start the generators again, he’d be shit-out-of-luck.

He had twelve hours to wait for the Nautilus. Unfortunately, the Defiant was too small for him to play with his air currents; he’d suck up too much air for him to breathe if he did.

So instead he began to reflect on what he’s just accomplished. He’d solved Panur’s mysterious power configuration and now had a fully-operational TD starship. The long transits between trouble spots was over. He could cross the galaxy in a matter of days, rather than months. And he had the means—hopefully—of tracking down the elusive pair of super-mutants. He truly believed he’d just taken a major step toward defeating the Klin menace.

So he went aft, to the galley, to see if the builders of the Defiant had stocked the processors with any booze. He’d be disappointed if they hadn’t. He felt like celebrating.

27

“I’d forgotten how beautiful it is here,” Sherri said, gawking out the bridge viewports as the Nautilus came in for a landing on an island set in the middle of an azure and green sea.

“Why the hell did you guys leave?” Copernicus asked. He was as much in awe of the scenery as everyone else. “It looks like paradise. This could be a good place for a retake of our tropical vacation, Sher.”

Yes, the view of the quickly approaching island was inviting, but Adam knew a deeper truth. His old base on Pyrum-3 held some terrible memories for the people who had once lived and worked here, thanks in part to Robert McCarthy’s father, Nigel.

Adam didn’t want to dwell too much on the backstory—everything was recorded in the archives—except to say that McCarthy the Elder attacked the base with a team of Human commandos. In the process, Adam lost some good men, including a young Navy Commander named Lee Schwartz. Adam captured McCarthy, yet on the trip back to Earth, he managed to escape, killing two more of Adam’s men. After that, the team disbanded, until McCarthy resurfaced, and up to his old antics of galactic domination again.

Adam eventually personally closed out the chapter on Nigel McCarthy, after chasing the psychopath to the Large Magellanic Cloud, one the sister galaxies of the Milky Way. Nigel was dead this time. Adam made sure of it.

Adam had used the base as the headquarters for his small force of intergalactic troubleshooters, affectionately referred to as Cain’s Crusaders. They were sanctioned under the auspices of the leader of the Expansion at the time, the Silean Kroekus—back when he was one of the good guys. He’d met his ultimate fate at the same time as McCarthy, and in a galaxy far, far away.

The base had living quarters, workshops, a starship hangar—and a weapons cache from when they were here ten years ago. Adam was hoping it were still here.

The huge, ugly behemoth that was the Nautilus dominated the small landing field, which has been designed primarily to hold small, fast fighters. It was especially gaudy-looking when set against the seductive tropical setting, complete with alien-looking palm trees, crescent white beaches and shimmering blue-green water.

The team made quick work of the move in, the Humans content with the slightly higher than normal Juirean-standard gravity, although it made Arieel, Kaylor and Jym a little winded after only a few moments of hauling gear and supplies into the vacant buildings.

The main structure was a free-form style building shaped like a shell standing on edge and made of a polyurethane composite material. It boasted over twelve thousand square feet of living quarters broken into nine spacious apartments beginning on the second floor. Each had wide balconies with incredible views of the island-dotted sea and the mainland three miles across the channel. There were plenty of rooms to go around, especially considering that Sherri and Coop shared one, as Adam and Arieel shared another.

Part of the team took inventory of the supplies still on the base, while others moved the Defiant from the landing bay of the Nautilus and into the hangar. To Adam’s delight, everything they’d left was still here. He suspected it had been protected by the docile—yet impressive-looking—natives of the planet. They were centaur-like creatures called Cupin’los, which were not unlike the ones Adam had run into on the nameless planet at the beginning of his Nuorean bounty adventure. Yet these beings were gentle and had never tried to kill him. With the gravity a little out of the comfort range of the bulk of the galaxy’s inhabitants, the planet remained largely unsettled by offworld interests, and it had stayed that way throughout the years.

Adam set to work in the shop section of the hangar, building the next ingredient in his quest to find the mutants.

“What is it?” Arieel asked when she first saw the four-foot tall, two-foot round object. Sherri and Copernicus were with her.

“It’s a CW broadcaster,” he told them. “It’s basic, designed to hack a message into nearly every signal that passes its way.”

“What message?”

“It simply says ‘Lila, call home.’”

“You are serious?” The Formilian seemed genuinely excited.

“I figure it’s Lila who wears the pants in the family, so I addressed it to her.”

“Pants? I do not believe she would wear such attire if there were alternatives.”

“But she is in control; Panur will do what she says.”

Arieel nodded. “That is true. That is true in most male-female relationships.”

Adam didn’t argue the point. He couldn’t.

“Anyway, the message will spread out at the speed of a CW link. It’s a longshot, I know, but it’s the best I can come up with.”

“You are often right in your assumptions. I trust you, my love.”

Adam had to smile. He was indeed a lucky man, to have the most beautiful Prime female in the galaxy calling him her love. She was also a handful, and her alien ways of acting and speaking was a challenge in their own right. But he would soldier onward; the benefits far outweighed the negatives.

“Where are you going to put the beacons?” Copernicus asked. “You said there are an infinite number of universes. You can’t place a unit in each one.”

“I’m going to set the first one in the Milky Way, just in case they’re here. The second one will go into the Sol-Kor galaxy, Panur’s home universe.”

“Why do you assume they’re in another dimension? As you tell it, they left in an Aris starship that wasn’t capable of TD travel.”

“Yeah, but it had two of the most-intelligent beings to ever exist inside. If they wanted to turn the ship into a galaxy-hopping marshmallow, I’m sure they could.”

“I am going with you,” Arieel announced.

“I’ll only be gone a day at the most.”

“Yes, but I will keep you company.”

Adam looked over at Sherri, who was grinning ear-to-ear. “I believe she wishes to help you christen the Defiant…officially, if you know what I mean?”

“Hey, I’m just going out to plant the beacons.” Then a smile stretched across his face as well. “And to christen the Defiant…officially.”

* * *

There was a power pack in storage that would fit in the Defiant. It wasn’t perfect, but it would allow for a half-dozen wells before petering out. Six days after landing on Pyrum-3, Adam lifted the TD-capable starship from the surface, and with Arieel strapped into the co-pilot seat, he made for outer space. He chose a location just outside the Pyrum star system, away from local interference, but well within the established CW relay lanes. He dropped the beacon and activated it with his ATD.

Two hours later, he’d completed a thorough check of the TD module and systems to make sure everything was still in order. He never had any concern with Panur’s system. But since then, the techs back on Earth—as well as Adam—had messed with the module. It was working now, but it would take many more jumps before he gained complete trust in his own handiwork.

He made the jump.

Afterwards, Arieel sat with her arms crossed, pouting.

“It does not look any different than our own,” she stated.

“I told you that. They’re all the same. I have no idea why there are so many, unless they serve some vital purpose in the scheme of things. Perhaps they balance out the energy throughout existence. Or perhaps they’re just here to confuse us.”

“If that is their purpose, then they are succeeding. Yet you can assure me we are in another universe?”

Adam frowned. “Yeah, I told you that. We’re in another universe.”

“Then release your beacon so we can get on to more important matters.”

“What matters?”

She smiled wickedly while licking her full, ruby lips. “I have never made sex in another universe. I find the prospect…stimulating.”

Adam’s jaw fell open slightly and he felt his face flush. “Then I must attend to my duties, my dear.”

“Yes, yes you must.”

* * *

The moment of truth came, when Adam tripped the controls that would take the exhausted lovers back to their home universe and galaxy. For a moment, Adam considered what a tragedy it would be if he and Arieel got trapped in this alien universe. It would have no Klin, no Robert McCarthy…just a new beginning for him and Arieel.

He felt a twinge of regret when the green fog covered the space outside.

Adam had compensated for the drift this time, and the Defiant appeared back in the Milky Way just outside the Pyrum system. He and Arieel were enjoying their quiet time together, so they took the long way back to Pyrum-3.

It’s when they neared the planet that their quiet reverie was interrupted.

The planet was under siege.

28

There were five ships in orbit around the once-tranquil planet of Pyrum-3, and a quick scan of their configurations made Adam’s stomach turn. There was a small Human Normandy-Class fast attack ship, like those used by Special Forces assault teams. There was also a Juirean Monitor, capable of carrying a fifty-being surface assault force. But what was most surprising: there were three Nuorean warships, and the big boys that made up the bulk of their estranged fleet. Adam didn’t even know they had a dog in this race.

None of the ships had fired on the others, not wanting to set off an intergalactic incident. Even the Nuoreans, who had been laying low since the Klin invasion, were reluctant to fire on ships from the Expansion and the Union. They had enough trouble hiding from the Klin.

“Begin evasive man-groovers,” Arieel cried out when the ships began to move.

“Man-groovers…oh.” Arieel didn’t know the Formilian word for maneuvers, so she’d tried to say the word in English. Unfortunately, translation bugs are only so intuitive.

“Don’t worry,” he said to Arieel. “They’re all here for the Defiant. They want her intact. No one’s going to open fire.”

The Defiant had caught the small alien fleet off guard. Adam scanned the vessels and detected activity in their gun turrets. He wasn’t worried. Give them a minute to identify the mysterious ship approaching out-system and they’ll stand down.

“You sound confident. Are these your true feelings or are you trying to deceive me?”

“No really. Watch.”

Adam steered the Defiant toward the Juirean warship. They came close enough to see individual viewports in the hull, and almost close enough to rub against the diffusion shields.

“You are being reckless. What is happening on the surface?”

That was a good question. The ship dove into the atmosphere as Adam contacted Riyad through his ATD.

Hey! Riyad shouted in his mind. Are you planning on joining the party anytime soon? You’re supposed to bring the booze. Seriously, do you know what’s happening down here?

I thought I’d let you fill me in. We’re on our way. ETA, four minutes.

Well, it’s been nice knowing you, but we may not last four minutes.

What’s going on?

Kaylor and Jym are trapped over in the hangar. The rest of us are in what’s left of the seashell. There are three separate forces. The Expansion is over on Malibu Beach. The Humans have The Strand and the Nuoreans are at The Wedge. So far, no one has fired on the hangar or the Nautilus, thinking the Defiant could in inside either one. But the residence and admin buildings…well, that’s another story.

Adam had set a deeper, faster course through the atmosphere after hearing the concern in Riyad’s voice. He and Arieel could see the island now, bringing into focus Riyad’s report.

It was a mess. Most of the once-majestic alien palm trees had had their fronds blasted off, and the picture-perfect crescent beaches—all three of them—were now broken with footprints, spent ammo and black landing boats sitting cockeyed in the gentle surf. There was also a greasy film on the waters of the shallow channel between the island and the mainland.

Yet the most obvious damage was to the once spectacular living quarters building and the admin center next to it.

The shell-shaped apartment structure was a sick memory of its former self. The building had a thick central pole running up the center where each of the floors radiated from. It couldn’t collapse, but every floor had suffered such severe damage that structural pieces hung from cross supports like ornaments on a nightmarish Christmas tree. There was evidence of flash bolt damage, but most had been caused by the Human’s ballistic weapons. The building next to the living quarters—the Administration Building where the team once had offices, comm equipment, and a number of sophisticated computers—it was gone, now just a pile of smoldering ruins.

In contrast, the huge hangar building next to it was completely intact, without the signs of a single bolt hit or bullet hole. The same held true for the bulky orange-colored freighter dominating the landing field at the east end of the island. This told Adam a lot about the objectives of the attack. He would use that to his advantage.

He set the Defiant down directly in front of the crumbling apartment building.

The moment the starboard hatch opened, Adam and Arieel made for the building and the boxy base from which the once-elegant seashell-shaped structure rose. The walls were thicker here and had become the last refuge for the three Humans.

Adam slipped in next to Riyad, while Arieel was flanked by Sherri and Copernicus, each armed with M-80 assault rifles. The more advanced M-101 hadn’t been introduced when the base was active, so‘80s were the largest caliber weapons they had.

Adam poked his head around the corner of a shattered wall and scanned the beaches on the south half of the island.

The island was about a mile-and-half long by one-half wide. Behind the three buildings and facing north, was a rough shore made up of jagged corals. The land was elevated here, which is why the buildings had been constructed here.

On the west end was a small peninsula jutting out into the ocean. To the south of the prominence was a small crescent-shaped beach which Adam had designated Malibu years ago. Using his mutant-enhanced eyesight, he could make out an assault group of about twenty Expansion Special Forces on the beach. A Juirean Guard appeared to be in charge, barking orders as a medium-size inflatable boat was just then running up on the beach. A menagerie of aliens began to lift green-colored boxes from inside the boat. When they broke open the crates, long-barreled projectile weapons were inside.

“You disabled the flash weapons?” he asked Riyad at his elbow.

“All we could; you know the Nuoreans use a different technology. Another problem, most of the illustrious Human commandos have learned how to quickly reconnect the contacts, so anything we do to their weapons is only temporary.”

“It looks like the Expansion troops aren’t as savvy. But they just had a literal boatload of automatic weapons delivered, apparently courtesy of some mutual armament agreement that could come back to bite us. And what about our fellow Humans? What’s their story?”

Riyad chanced to stick his head up a little higher to look over the wall. Nearly all the firing had stopped after Adam landed the Defiant. Commanders on the ground and in space were reevaluating their attack plans.

“The Humans and Expansion troops arrived about twenty minutes after the Nuoreans,” Riyad reported. “They were surprised to see each other, but so far haven’t fired on each another—just us! As far as our Human brothers go, they have The Strand staked out. There’s about twenty-five of them. They came over in Zodiacs from the mainland.”

Adam had named the half-mile long stretch of pure white sand on the south side of the island The Strand, after the strip of land that connects Imperial Beach to Coronado Island in San Diego Bay. Back in the day, the SEALS knew the place intimately, using the beaches of the original Strand for training—and torture—of recruits. Memories of the cold morning surf sent shivers down Adam’s spine.

“That leaves the Nuoreans. What the hell are they doing here?”

The aliens from Andromeda were holded up on a small beach bordered by a split of land to the west and a rocky crag to the east. Adam called it The Wedge, after the infamous strip of sand at the south end of Balboa Island in Newport Beach. Prevailing winds and currents forced waves to climb to impressive heights before crashing down on the small strip of beach—and fearless body surfers—next to a long, rocky jetty extending out into the Pacific. Like its namesake, this small beach received the most surf on the island and was the most-dangerous to tread. The Nuoreans had seen it as the closest approach to the landing field and the hangar. But now, between the surf and Kaylor and Jym shooting at them from a side door in the hangar, the Nuoreans were getting battered.

“Yeah, speaking of the Nuoreans, you’re going to love this,” Riyad began. “They came down first and made an announcement over a loudspeaker.”

“What did they say?”

“They said they are here for the trans-dimension space vehicle. But then they went on to explain how they needed the ship to make contact with Andromeda—they called it the Suponac—so they can be rescued.”

Adam pursed his lips. “I see. A little too much information? I suppose after hearing their perfectly good rationale for wanting the ship, you agreed to turn it over to them?”

“I might have…if I hadn’t shot the speaker through the forehead with a round from an M-80 air-cooled, semi-automatic assault rifle.”

Adam shook his head. “Is that any way to engage in interspecies diplomacy and goodwill.”

“Bite me!”

The two Humans ducked behind the wall when bullets began to zing around them. The Expansion troops had their new ballistic weapons out and were taking potshots at them. They had a better angle past the bow of the Defiant. The Humans to the south had their aim completely blocked by the TD-ship, and they weren’t taking any chances hitting the thing. They’d come too far to damage it now.

But they also wouldn’t sit idle much longer. Sooner or later they would rush the ship and attempt to take control.

Adam thought of his next move. His team of ATD-equipped defenders had done a good job of confounding the attackers by disabling their flash weapons, but that stalemate was rapidly coming to an end. The Nuoreans, knowing now that the TD-ship was not in either the hangar or the Nautilus, were moving up the beach. There were more of them than any group, around fifty. Nuorean-built flash weapons couldn’t be overcome by the ATDs, so they were sending dozens of bolts into the hangar where Kaylor and Jym were hiding. Adam wasn’t ready to start killing Humans, or even Expansion troops….but he had no qualms about wasting some Nuoreans, especially when it could save the lives of his two alien friends.

“Keep the others off my back,” he said to Riyad. “I’m going after the Nuoreans.”

“Alone?

Adam smiled before tapping his forward and then the area below his right armpit. “Yep, just me and my little friends.”

* * *

Adam slipped past the others, moving to his left and the east side of the building. Scanning the expanse of sand between him and the first Nuoreans, he took a deep breath and was rewarded with a surge of mutant super-strength. He ran, faster than any observer could comprehend, and smashed into a group of five aliens startled by his sudden arrival.

They were knocked off their feet like bowling pins. Some dropped their flash weapons, yet it was the one who dropped his ressnel—his fighting sword—that Adam was most interested in. He scooped up the fallen weapon and slashed out, slicing deep cuts in the chests of two of the aliens on the sand. A third received a straight thrust through his upper torso.

The other two were getting to their feet. Adam’s attack had happened so fast that the Nuoreans had no idea what hit them. Then they saw Adam standing over the bloody bodies of three of their comrades. Anger flare in their eyes—until the point they realized Adam had sliced completely through both their necks with one strong swipe of the ressnel. There wasn’t much fire in their eyes when their heads toppled over and fell to the sand.

Flash bolts were exploding around him, as other nearby Nuoreans noticed his attack. Fortunately, the aliens weren’t very good shots; they never used flash weapons in the arena.

With the ressnel still in his hand, he conjured up a thin cushion of air under his feet and a swirling column of sand-filled wind around his body. He rose off the beach, sweeping only a couple of feet over the heads of the confused Nuoreans. As he flew, he reached down with his sword and severed the heads of a dozen aliens, the blood spray becoming caught up in the tornadic column of air around him. In seconds, his entire body was covered in blood…alien blood, the best kind.

The Nuoreans were panicking and for a variety of reasons. First, they had Jym and Kaylor picking them off as they stood flatfooted in the open trying to come to grips with the impossible events taking place around them. Secondly, Adam was still sweeping over their positions, whacking off heads and laughing as he did so. Many hesitated advancing farther towards the hangar. Others turned back to the beach and their waiting boats.

That’s when Adam soared higher into the air, and with a wave of his right hand, sent a class-five hurricane force wall of wind racing over the beach. All five boats that had delivered the Nuoreans to the island were caught up in the torrent and thrown out to sea, along with ten or more of the aliens. Adam finished off the others a few seconds later.

Caught up in the blood-lust of the moment, Adam swept next across the island to the Expansion troops. Everyone—including Adam’s team—stood stunned and overwhelmed by what they just saw him do to the fifty Nuoreans. A few of the Expansion fighters recovered in time to send a few rounds from their Human automatic weapons at him. Whether the bullets were deflected by the column of air around him—or they were just bad shots—none found their mark.

Calling forth another huge gust of sand-filled wind, Adam sent this one straight into Malibu Beach. Alien warriors were swept up in the current and thrown into the water beyond the shore. Their landing boats joined them, many capsized and sinking.

Adam flew over The Strand next.

The Human commandos seemed to have no qualms at trying to take out the former SEAL with blasts from their weapons. A few of the rounds grazed Adam’s arms and legs, but his mutant healing powers numbed the pain and set to work repairing the damage.

In a blur, he flew lower, targeting a line of eight-inch-long barrels aimed into the sky. He sliced off the tips of five weapons with his ressnel before the commandos could dive for the sand. Adam didn’t want to kill them, but they sure did want to kill him.

He flew higher, five hundred feet or more, and hovered, glaring down at the confused ranks of the Humans. Some were still firing, yet the farther he moved from their positions, the more effective his surrounding column of air was at keeping the bullets bay.

He began to concentrate, gathering up energy to form another huge wall of air to be sent against the Humans this time. He was angry and frustrated. All he was trying to do was find a way to save the galaxy from the Klin. That’s why he took the TD-module. And that was why no one was going to take the Defiant away from him. Not until he found the—

A huge flash and accompanying sonic boom blasted the island from above, rattling teeth and sending a series of high-frequency waves rippling over the surface of the channel.

All eyes turned to the heavens as a brilliant egg-shaped orb of white light suddenly appeared through a rip in the sky. The light from the object was blinding and its heat could already be felt on the surface. It was a brilliantly glowing orb, silently dropping to the surface of Pyrum-3.

It touched down at the center of The Strand, instantly turning the sand to glass. Slowly, the radiance began to fade, but before it had completely cooled, the skin of the object cracked open along a centerline.

Adam still hovered a few hundred feet above the beach, covered in blood and brandishing a ressnel sword in his right hand, with a perfect view of the object below. He wasn’t surprised when first Lila, and then Panur, emerged from the glowing egg-shaped spaceship.

Arieel squealed and ran forward. Lila turned toward the sound and then headed off to meet her, at a more dignified walking pace. Mother and daughter embraced.

The mutant Panur walked up the beach, unconcerned with the Human commandos at his back, each armed with deadly M-101 assault rifles. He didn’t need to be. All were standing with their mouths agape watching the surreal scene unfold before their eyes.

Adam dropped down a little so he could get a closer look. Panur was dressed in a fashionable silk business suit—albeit small to fit his four-foot tall stature—and he also had a mustache. Adam didn’t know he could grow a mustache. The alien never had a trace of hair on his body before. But this was Panur, the five-thousand-year-old alien mutant genius from the Sol-Kor universe. He could transform his body into just about any shape…so why not grow a mustache?

The alien stepped up until he was just below Adam. He looked to one side of the beach and then the other, taking in the scene like a curious tourist.

Then he looked up at Adam and grinned.

“So…what did we miss?”

The End

In the next Adam Cain adventure…

Force of Gravity

With the help of the two super-mutants, Lila and Panur, Adam and his team set out to find a solution to the galaxy’s ‘Klin Problem.’ But it will take more than a couple of immortal alien mutant geniuses to make that happen.

They’re up against Nigel McCarthy’s evil 2G son, Robert, as well as a growing resistance within the galaxy to the mutants. The powers that be in both the Expansion and the Union don’t trust their intentions, thinking they’ve come to supplant their leadership. It’s a strange dynamic, as creatures interested in only their limited power fight against those who have come to save them, even as more of the galaxy is being absorbed daily into the Klin’s growing empire.

When even those you are trying to help are against you, it can be frustrating for a larger-than-life hero like Adam Cain, who just wants to save the galaxy one last time, before he takes a well-deserved vacation. Now he has no patience for mendacity and indecision. He also has powers. So it wouldn’t be wise to upset an already pissed off quasi-mutant superhero, especially not someone like Adam Cain…the Alien with an Attitude.

The next Adam Cain novel in The Human Chronicles Saga —Force of Gravity — is available for Pre-Order, with a release date of Dec. 21, 2017.

Click Here to Pre-Order Force of Gravity for Christmas, 2017.

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Contact

Email: bytrharris@hotmail.com

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Novels by T.R. Harris

The Human Chronicles Saga

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

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 George Wier…

The Liberation Series

Captains Malicious

Available exclusively on Amazon.com

and Kindle Unlimited.