Mission Critical

The Human Chronicles Saga

T.R. Harris

Book 23

Contents

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Novels by T.R. Harris

Mission Critical

1. Adam Cain: Destroyer of Worlds

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

Chapter 29

Epilogue

The End

More Adam Adventures Are Coming…

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Novels by T.R. Harris

Copyright 2018 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

Force of Gravity

Mission Critical

REV Warriors Series

REV

REV: Renegades

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.

Mission Critical

Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

His story continues…

1

Adam Cain: Destroyer of Worlds

No, that’s too dark.

Adam Cain: Protector of the Innocent.

Nah, that sounds like some Boy Scout superhero.

Adam Cain: Broke and Desperate.

Well, at least that’s the most-honest, but how would it look on a business card?

Unfortunately, Adam had to put aside his musings over a slogan for his business and tend to more pressing matters. The giant Balmornac quadra-ped had just crashed through a wall of the room where he was hiding…and now survival became his top priority.

The huge tiger-on-steroids swayed its massive head back and forth, displaying a pair of two-foot-long horns at the Human, while snarling through a mouth lined with three-inch long fangs. Adam was behind a wooden table, gripping the edge, grimacing with pain from the wound in his left side. He was waiting for the moment…and it came in a flash as the giant cat jumped. Adam lifted the table and flipped it toward his attacker. The long horns penetrated the wood, slipping by Adam’s head and missing his flesh by only a fraction of an inch on each side.

He pressed forward with all his Human strength while twisting the table, using its length for leverage. The head of the giant cat spun, taking the rest of the body with it. The beast was on its back when Adam slammed a booted foot down on the thick neck, just missing the taming collar it wore.

His advantage only lasted a second. The cat was much stronger than him and flicked him away like he was a fly. But the animal was hurt. When the next mighty roar came from its injured throat, it sounded more like a kitten than a six-foot-tall-at-the-shoulders savage beast.

Adam backed away until he was standing in front of the room’s only window, his left hand on the puncture wound to his side. The cat was shaking off its own pain and preparing to attack.

The animal wasn’t the only one getting ready to jump. With his enhanced leg muscles, Adam pushed off, reaching for the bare conduit lines in the ceiling twelve feet above. He pulled up his legs just as the huge tiger ran by beneath him.

The window shattered and the animal fell eighteen stories to the ground below. Adam dropped to the floor and looked out the shattered portal. The quadra-ped was on the ground, lifeless, while curious bystanders cautiously approached. Then it moved. The huge beast staggered to its feet, sending the panicked crowd running for their lives.

One of its horns was broken in half, and the cat limped from an injured front leg. But still it hobbled back into the building.

Adam didn’t have much time. The cat’s keen sense of smell was how it found him the first time. He thought he was being clever when he entered an elevator on the fifteenth floor a few minutes before, knowing that the cat couldn’t conceive of, nor operate, the control buttons. But then the beast took the stairwell up three flights, following his distinctive Human scent.

With its hurt leg, it would take the animal longer this time to climb the stairs, but it would track him relentlessly as long as he was in the building.

Adam rushed from the room and to another bank of elevators. The building was tall and the elevators only went fifteen floors at a time before requiring a transfer. He had to reach the forty-eighth floor.

After three transfers he eventually reached his destination, and as the door slid open, he took a level-two flash bolt to his chest. He barely reacted, more pissed than hurt. He looked at the stunned native guard and wondered what the hell was he doing? He should know by now that all a level-two flash bolt did to a Human was make him mad. And with Adam’s special abilities, it would take a number of even level-one bolts to kill him….

He ran to the stunned guard and slapped the bolt launcher from his gun hand before he could make the intensity adjustment on the weapon. Impatient, pissed off and hurt, Adam planted an elbow into the guard’s chin. It only took one hit. He’d already taken out nine other guards when he first entered the building; he knew what it took to lay them out. But then the giant cats had been sicced on him. He’d killed one already, although it came at the cost of a deep puncture wound to his left side. The bleeding had stopped—thanks to his rapid healing ability—but the pain was still there. He wasn’t looking forward to another encounter with the giant tigers.

Earlier, Adam had sent a mosquito drone into the building to locate the fugitive. He was on the forty-eighth floor, just down the hall from where Adam now stood. He reached the door and crashed through it without even trying the handle.

Adors Gin was cowering behind his desk, an MK-17 flash weapon in his hand, waiting for the targeting computer to lock on. Adam was on him before it could, knocking the annoying weapon away before grabbing the alien by the front of his clothing and lifting him over the desk.

Adors was a gunrunner who had been selling weapons to the rebels on Solon-Manoc. He had been captured, but escaped with the help of the rebels. He fled the planet, and a few weeks later, Adam and his team found him hiding here on Cranis, surrounded by a small army of native guards and his two wild cats. He controlled the animals with neurological taming collars, making them do his bidding. Adam was pretty sure Adors didn’t have the animals in the building exclusively to protect against him. That was just an unfortunate coincidence.

Adors blinked several times as his mouth fell open, staring at Adam.

“You are…you are Adam Cain,” the alien gasped.

“That’s right.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you back to Solon-Manoc.”

“You are a reward hunter?”

Adam shrugged.

“But you…you killed the Sol-Kor queen. You destroyed the homeworld of the Nuoreans. And you eliminated the last of the Klin from the galaxy. Surely you can’t be here for the reward?”

“Hey, everyone has to make a living.”

The greenish-blue face of the alien became more animated. “I understand there is a forty thousand Juirean credit reward for my return. I will offer you fifty thousand if you let me go.”

Adam stared into the green eyes of the fugitive. Forty thousand credits—the bounty on Adors—would keep the Klin Colony Ship he lived in running for a month; fifty thousand, not much longer. No, it wasn’t enough to risk his business and his reputation.

When Adam hesitated, Adors upped the bribe to one hundred thousand.

“Do you have it with you?” Adam asked.

“I, eh, well, no,” Adors stammered. “But I can get it.”

Adam winced and shook his head. “Sorry, Adors, but I can’t risk it, not even for a hundred. You’re going back to Solon-Manoc and I’ll be content with the forty-k.”

“Forty kay?”

“Forty thousand.”

As Adam guided the alien toward the shattered door, Adors took him by the arm. “A favor, Adam Cain?”

“What?”

“Will you look into the security camera in the corner?” Adors pointed toward the ceiling. “I want a record that I met you.”

Adors huddled in close and smiled for the camera. Although the alien faced a possible death sentence back on Solon-Manoc, he was beaming with excitement as Adam took him into custody.

At least now he had a selfie with him and the famous Adam Cain.

* * *

Adam got Adors out of the building and back to his ship, where his alien friend Kaylor was waiting. Four days later the pair left Solon-Manoc with a stack of Juirean blue chips and returned to the huge Colony Ship/space station in orbit around the gas giant Andos within the Formilian star system. The forty thousand credits would help, but it wouldn’t make a dent in his current financial woes; however, it was more than he had a week ago. That was progress.

The twenty-mile-in-diameter starship he called home had seventy landing bays of various sizes, but only one was active. Kaylor expertly slipped the small Klin saucer into the bay, closed the outer doors and then filled the chamber with atmosphere. Adam grimaced. Just that sequence alone cost about seven hundred credits.

The pair made their way through a long passageway with dimmed lighting and into the section of the station where Adam, Kaylor and Jym lived. It was less than ten percent of the volume of the huge ship, leaving the other ninety-plus percent dark, cold and powerless.

The station had once been home to twenty thousand Klin, and was capable of supporting the colony for an indefinite period. But something that big took a lot of, well everything, to run. Adam didn’t have that kind of money. Hell, he couldn’t even afford to move the damn thing

His friend Arieel Bol—the Speaker of the Formilian People—had fought tooth and nail with her governing council to get the funding to bring the ship from Vesper to its present location. After that, the powers-that-be said no more, not even enough to keep the station powered.

Arieel didn’t have the clout she once had on her homeworld. Her title was more ceremonial than official now, not after it was revealed that her so-called supernatural ability to control electricity and commune with their gods came from a brain-interface device and not by divine intervention. If it wasn’t for the two-thousand year history of the Bol females leading the planet, she wouldn’t even have the title.

Adam was grateful nonetheless. It got him closer to the power center of the Expansion and closer to Arieel. When he first arrived nine months ago, they saw each other often, but now, not so much. Since he’d started his bounty hunting business, he was gone most of the time, working his butt off just to keep the lights on in the small section of the Colony Ship he called home.

* * *

Jym was in the central meeting area near the bridge of the Klin starship when Kaylor and Adam entered. The lighting here was brighter, at least while the room was in use. Jym was munching on a piece of Filiean bark held in one tiny paw, while tapping on a datapad with the other.

“With the forty thousand, we now have ninety-eight in total,” he said without greeting, as if his two associates hadn’t been gone for the past nine days. “I have ordered a fresh supply of standard food stocks, and we should be looking soon for a new power module for the Davion.”

The Davion was the only small craft left aboard the Colony Ship when Adam took it over; all the hundreds of others were on Vesper when the Nuoreans destroyed the planet. That was a shame. Normally, a station this large carried an entire fleet of smaller vessels, ships Adam could have sold to cure his current financial crisis. But the Klin were in the process of moving their operations to land bases at the time and had stripped the Colony Ship of all but one lone starship, used to shuttle the skeleton maintenance crew back and forth to Vesper.

Now Adam and Kaylor used the Davion for their bounty hunting excursions. Davion was an alien name Jym assigned the ship, which meant…well Adam never understood the meaning. But it was small and fast, with an effective range of about ten thousand light-years on a single power mod. Jym was right; it would need a new energy supply module pretty soon. And that would cost even more money.

Adam went to the food processor and ordered up a helping of bacon and eggs, or what passed as bacon and eggs aboard the Klin ship. Jym had modified the unit to conjure up a few traditional Human meals, since the bulk of the programming was for Klin food alone. Kaylor and Jym didn’t have a problem with the Klin diet, but Adam did. Now he had his choice between bacon and eggs, a pale pork-like dish or cereal. He was getting tired of all three.

However, the processor did make a decent cup of coffee, and that was what he really needed. He’d been running at a frantic pace just to keep his head above water. It was six months into his new business and he was paying the bills, but failing in his ultimate goal to get closer to Earth.

“Your law advocate left a message for you two days ago,” Jym said just as Adam dug into his depressingly bland meal.

“Did he say why he was calling?”

“No, just asked for a return link when possible.”

“When possible, or as soon as possible?” Adam was hoping it was an urgent call with good news.

“When possible were his exact words.”

Adam would call his lawyer back when he finished eating.

“And Adam, I have located another of our target fugitives. He initiated a CW link three days ago on Risnos.”

“Where’s that?”

“Sector Nine…near Hyben.”

“Who is he?”

“An Andorian named Lundin. The reward is twenty-five thousand.”

Adam grimaced. Hyben was two thousand light-years away. It would take him and Kaylor over a week just to get there and use up the last of the energy in the mod. They would need a new one before they left on the mission, at a cost of four thousand credits. That, plus the time it would take getting there and back, made the bounty hardly worth the effort. Twenty-five-thousand wasn’t enough.

“Anything closer…and for more credits?”

“I have thirty-five potentials within the current search. That’s all the Klin computers can handle at a time. So far, Lundin was the only one who made a link.”

“Keep looking.”

After the trio had taken over the Colony Ship, Jym discovered the Klin computers had the ability to monitor all the Continuous Wormhole communications in the galaxy—for an entire day. It was an incredible amount of information and only possible because the Klin had the most-advanced technology in the galaxy. But it was only for a day. After that the data had to be dumped to make room for another.

When Adam decided that bounty hunting might be a good way to earn credits, Jym put together a facial-recognition program to search a day’s CW links looking for fugitives or warrant subjects. Since ninety-percent of all links involved video, Jym’s program was remarkably successful at locating Adam’s targets—as long as they made a video link during the monitored day.

After six months as a bounty hunter, Adam success rate was phenomenal, even if the money wasn’t. It seemed those carrying the higher bounties were more cautious with their communications and used cutouts or other methods. So far, the largest reward he’d collected was seventy-five thousand Juirean credits, with the average around thirty-five. Adam needed the Colony Ship’s computers to run his business, and that meant putting up with the high cost of running the station. It was a Catch-22 that had him trapped in a depressing loop of hard work for little gain. But at the moment, it was the only job he could get.

* * *

Adam made the link with Aaron Jarvis back on Earth. Aaron had once been a Navy SEAL—just like Adam—and when he left the service ten years ago he earned a Juris Doctorate and opened his own law firm, catering to military personnel, both present and former. Adam knew him from the old days. Now he had the attorney working on his behalf on at least three fronts back on the homeworld.

“Tell me you have some good news,” Adam said when the nearly-bald and rapidly weight-gaining attorney came on the screen. At least someone could afford more than processed bacon and eggs.

Aaron grimaced. “I wish I did, buddy. I just thought I’d give you the latest since we haven’t talked for a couple of weeks.”

“I’ve been out collecting a bounty.”

“A good one?”

“Not really, just subsistence pay. So what do you have?”

“First of all, your bank accounts. As before, everyone is as apologetic as they can be. They all acknowledge that what happened to you sucks, but there’s nothing they can do about it. When your accounts were confiscated, you were a criminal, having stolen the trans-dimensional starship from the military. That was a major crime back then, and the authorities threw the book at you, along with the rest of your team.”

“You’re telling me.”

Aaron shrugged. “They keep coming at me with the simplistic example of a person who robs a bank in order to feed his starving family. It’s still a crime, no matter why you did it. Even though you used the TD-ship to keep the Klin from conquering the galaxy, it was still a crime. Your three million dollars—and everyone else’s money—was absorbed into the system and no one is willing to step up and essentially donate money—their word—to make you whole again.”

“That’s the same thing they said a year ago after the Klin war. So they haven’t budged an inch?”

“I’m afraid not, Adam.”

“What other rays of sunshine do you have for me?”

Aaron glanced at a datapad on his desk. He didn’t need to look up any details on the device; he’d been working on Adam’s case for nearly a year and had everything committed to memory.

“The property tax lien on your Lake Tahoe land was filed properly and all the time periods have elapsed. The redemption period after the foreclosure expired fourteen months ago—”

“About the time Panur and I were captured by Robert McCarthy and the Klin. It’s a little hard to respond to a tax lien notice when you’re locked away on a planet at the edge of the galaxy and about to be executed in a very sadistic manner.”

“I explained that to the taxing authority,” Aaron said. “They sympathize but say there’s nothing they can do to nullify the sale.”

“And the insurance?”

“I just got a ruling on that.”

Adam’s Lake Tahoe log home had been destroyed several years ago when a team of commandos came looking for the mutant Panur and ran into a force of Klin coming through a trans-dimensional portal the alien had built in Adam’s garage. By the time the battle was over, his house was a pile of ashes. He’d been fighting with the insurance company ever since trying to get them to payout on the replacement policy he carried on the structure.

“They’ve agreed that you are entitled to replacement coverage….”

Adam lit up. At last some good news. “That’s great!”

“However,” his attorney continued, “the insurance company can’t pay to replace a home on land you no longer own. Sorry.”

Adam slumped in his chair. Of course, he thought. That’s par for the course.

“And the hits just keep on coming.”

“One last thing: your military retirement pay. Since the field commission Andy Tobias gave you to captain wasn’t authorized, your retirement pay at that rank has been denied. If anything, going from E-5 to ensign might have worked, but not all the way to captain. Captains need congressional approval—or that of the governing council these days. You never got that. Sorry, Adam, but you’re stuck with half of E-5 pay for your retirement.”

“And E-5 over twelve, not twenty,” Adam pointed out. “E-5s max out at twelve years. Do you know how much it costs to run a Klin Colony Ship? More than an E-5’s retirement pay, I’ll tell you that.”

“I know, Adam, it sucks. Seems no matter how many times you save the galaxy, you still get shafted in the end.” Aaron looked away, embarrassed. “And there’s one more thing.”

“Your fee,” Adam stated.

“Yeah. You know I do pro-bono work, but in your case—and that of the others—it’s taking a lot of time. It’s not just a single issue. Your tab is getting pretty high, my friend.”

“Give me until the next bounty,” Adam pleaded, “then I’ll start sending you some money.”

“That’s fine. Just something, okay? My wife does the books and she’s really pissed. I can deal with crazed killer aliens on distant worlds, but not a pissed off wife.”

“Roger that, Aaron, I’ll do the best I can.”

“Wish I had better news. I’ll talk to you later. Take care.”

Adam stared at the blank screen for several seconds. How did it come to this? There was a time when he was the most-famous Human in the galaxy—and according to the reaction of Adors Gin, he still was. But all the fame wasn’t paying the bills.

Adam, Riyad and Sherri had once commanded two million dollar appearance fees when the Orion-Cygnus Union was first forming, touring new member worlds to impress the natives with tales of their heroics. Everyone wanted to see and hear the trio, which in reality was mainly Adam Cain. After returning to Earth at the conclusion of the Klin war a year and a half ago—and learning that his life was in ruin—Adam had tried the talk circuit again and ended up speaking at Rotary Clubs and VA centers for pennies. No one was crediting him with the destruction of the Klin. They said the Nuoreans did that when they used a massive gravity beam to destroy the Klin’s new home base on Vesper. The fact that the Nuoreans only did it thinking Adam was on the planet didn’t seem to matter. Now the Klin were gone, the Nuoreans were locked away in the Andromeda galaxy, and the Juireans were back in control of the Expansion. Things were returning to normal and no one wanted to dredge up ancient history.

Adam Cain was an afterthought, a relic from a time most people wanted to forget.

So he returned to the Vesperian star system and recovered the last surviving Klin Colony Ship thinking he could sell it to make some quick money. But since he didn’t legally own the ship there were no buyers. Having no place else to go, Adam and his two alien friends moved in. Arieel then helped get the huge space station to the Formilian system, where it now sat.

But on the bright side, it did have a really nice view of the colorful gas giant Andos.

* * *

Adam jumped when the CW screen chirped at him, indicating an incoming link. He saw the identifier as Arieel Bol.

As always, he gasped when the image of the dark-haired alien beauty came on the screen. Arieel was often referred to as the most-beautiful female Prime in the galaxy, and Adam whole-heartily agreed. Long silky black hair reaching to mid-back, full lips and high cheek bones, along with an incredible body of breath-taking proportions, it was also the Formilian’s potent sexual pheromones that made many an alien uneasy when in the presence of Arieel and her people, be they male or female. And the fact that she was over ninety Formilian years old made her stunning sex appeal even more amazing.

“I was informed by Jym that you were injured,” the Formilian said with genuine concern.

“It’s just a scratch, and you know how fast I heal these days.”

“So you are all right?”

“Yes, my dear. I’m just glad to be back. Any chance you could pay me a visit? I have a lot of stress you could help relieve.”

The frown on Arieel gorgeous face gave him concern. “I will try,” she began. “But my link today is not of a welcoming nature.”

“What’s going on?”

“The council is attempting to pass a rule that would allow them to charge you a tax—or a fee, they call it—for remaining in the system.”

“They want to charge me rent…for having the Colony Ship orbiting one of their planets? When has that ever happened before?”

“Never that I know of, especially here,” Arieel replied. “The proposal is meeting resistance, since it would be targeted only to you and could be indefensible if protested. The only way to defeat the protest would be to apply it to all ships in the system. That would cause a revolt. But there are those on the council who hold much animosity towards you. They are now saying it is to recover the fee they spent having the ship brought here in the first place, and with interest. I see it as more of a way to punish you or force you to abandon the ship and leave.”

“Believe me, I’d leave if I could, and take the ship with me. I need it to do my job.”

“I am sorry for the bad news, Adam. I am working on your behalf, but as you know, I do not have much power any longer. If I advocate for you too much, it will only diminish what authority I do have.”

“I understand. Just keep me informed.”

“I must go now. I will try to make it out to you soon, if I can.”

The screen went blank again. Adam leaned back in the chair. In life, there should be a penalty for piling on, just as there is in football, he thought. But there wasn’t. Adam Cain would just have to…he tried to think of a term. About all he could come up with was ‘keep on keeping on.’ It was something his dad used to say, many years ago.

* * *

A week later, Adam and the Belsonian alien Kaylor left on another fugitive-recovery hunt. This one was only seven hundred light-years away and was for thirty-eight thousand credits. Although the money wasn’t very good—not in light of the high cost of running his business—Adam had to admit he liked the work. It kept him active and in full display of the advantage most Humans had over the vast majority of aliens in the galaxy.

Humans are from a heavy gravity world, as compared to others. Not only that, but they evolved on their world in a unique way. Most heavy-gravity beings were sluggish, stocky and dumb. Not so Humans. They were quick, strong, coordinated—and most of all—intelligent. This made them super beings, as the various galactic wars and other conflicts they participated in demonstrated. In just a brief time, they rose to the top of the food chain, even ruling the galaxy for a brief time. Now they maintained a small Union of planets in the Orion arm of the galaxy, although their reputation was known throughout the Milky Way.

But the primary reason Adam enjoyed being a bounty hunter was it allowed him to beat up on aliens. Although this sounded xenophobic and cruel, Adam had good reason to feel this way. Twenty years ago, the evil Klin had abducted him—and thousands of other Humans—to help build a secret army to fight their perennial enemy, the Juireans. That plan had gone bust, but what it did do was take Adam away from his wife and young daughter, as well as the job he enjoyed as a Navy SEAL. Then when the Klin’s scheming led to the death of his family, his attitude toward aliens took a decided turn for the worse. Over the years, not much had changed. Although he’d met some aliens he liked and admired—including Kaylor, Jym and Arieel—overall he still didn’t like them very much. Now he was getting paid to bust heads and return bad aliens to face justice, which was right up his alley.

Years ago, Adam had spent time as an alien assassin, doing what he could to earn a living in a strange new reality out among the stars. But that was a lot harder way to make a buck. He had to wait for the assignments to come to him, which was unpredictable. Also, he couldn’t pick and choose his assignments. He worked primarily for a mob boss named Seton Amick, and when the alien said go kill someone, Adam had to obey.

Bounty hunting was different. There were literally millions of rewards being offered at any given time throughout the galaxy and from a thousand different worlds. And he could also take on criminal warrant processing if he wanted. There were large databases where these commissions were listed, and he and his small team would scour them for the highest paying within the closest vicinity to the Colony Ship. Jym would then load the pictures of the various fugitives into the Klin computer and wait for a hit. If any of the thirty-five subjects they could track at a time made a video link, they could pinpoint the planet and location within a square mile. After that it was just a matter of Adam using his super Human abilities to take the bad guys into custody. And the more they resisted arrest, the better.

The only drawback…Adam needed to bring them back alive.

2

“Adam, there is a pair of spacecraft approaching,” Kaylor announced over the station’s intercom system.

“Identification?” Adam asked as he lay on the bed in his huge stateroom. He’d taken the largest and most opulent accommodations for himself even though it took a few extra credits to keep it lit and heated. It was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself.

“They claim to be from the Incus Federation.”

The IF was located in the Kidis Frontier, one of the up and coming regions of the galaxy now that the yolk of Juirean domination had been thrown off, thanks in part to some of Adam’s past involvement. The Incus were the fourth largest manufacturer of weapons in the galaxy, behind only Maris-Kliss, Xan-fi and Earth. They had been trying to make more of an impact for years.

“What do they want?”

“They wish to speak with you.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

The stateroom was only a short distance to the bridge of the mighty space station. Adam was there a minute later, looking at the face of a black-skinned alien displayed on the huge monitor at the comm station.

“You’re not Incus,” Adam stated. The Incus are worm-like creatures with short legs and short arms. This being was more Humanoid, but with thin gills on the side of his neck that fluttered when he spoke.

“We are Gracilians, members of the Federation and the scientific advisors to the Incus. As you know, they are excellent manufacturers, yet we provide much of the technical knowledge such activities require.”

“What do you want?”

“We have a business proposal for you, Mr. Adam. May we board your vessel?”

“Why didn’t you just call instead of coming all the way over here? That’s normally how these things work.”

The dark eyes of the alien showed no emotion. “Our proposal is rather complicated and requires background. I assure you we are no threat. In addition, we will pay you ten thousand Juirean credits for simply listening to our proposal.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “No obligation?”

“No obligation.”

Adam looked at Jym and Kaylor. They nodded their approval without hesitation.

“I must warn you,” Adam began, “this station has formidable defenses, both exterior and interior. Don’t try anything sneaky or you’ll pay for it.”

The alien stretched out a thin smile. “We will do nothing sneaky.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later the Gracilian starships were in the landing bay, with Kaylor guiding their two guests to a large meeting room near the bridge. Jym had hurriedly turned up the lighting in the main corridor and poured heat into the conference room. They didn’t want the aliens to see how little of the Klin ship was powered. That would show them just how desperate Adam and the others were for money.

The Gracilians were taller than Humans—as were most aliens—and probably from a lower gravity world than Earth. Adam kept the gravity in the station at Juirean standard—about three-quarters that of the Earth—for the comfort of his two alien companions. When required, he would jack up the gravity in another section of the spaceship and spend a few days there so his muscles wouldn’t atrophy.

His guests took seats at the table.

They said their names were Volic Nusin and Kandor Nic, and when Adam went to introduce Jym and Kaylor, Volic interrupted.

“Oh, we know who you are. You are the famous Belsonian Kaylor Linn Todd and the Fulquin Jym. I do not believe we have ever known your last name.”

“It is often mispronounced so I do not state it.”

“Understandable. Even so, the two of you are well-known throughout the galaxy for your exploits with Adam Cain and his Humans. It is an honor to meet you in person.”

“May I offer you something to drink?” Adam asked, hoping to tamp down some of the bullshit circulating in the room. The aliens were going overboard trying to win Adam and the others to their favor. This sent the alert meter on the back of Adam’s neck to Defcon-1. But for ten thousand credits, he would be on his best behavior, at least for the moment.

“Water would be welcome,” said the lead alien, Volic, “as long as no additives are within.”

Adam met Kaylor at the processor along the wall. “Does Klin water have any additives in it?” he whispered to this Belsonian companion. Kaylor shrugged.

Adam brought two glasses of water to the table.

“Okay, so what’s this all about?” he asked.

“First of all, I must tell you we have researched your activities as a fugitive recovery agent and are quite impressed. In the short time you have been pursuing this endeavor you have had phenomenal—almost miraculous—success.”

Adam cast a quick glance at Jym. They couldn’t possibly know what the Klin computers were doing, could they?

“We’ve been lucky,” Adam said.

“I would attribute it more to skill, Mr. Adam. Throughout your tenure in the affairs of the galaxy you have shown remarkable ability, and within a variety of fields. This one is no different.”

Adam gave the alien a thin smirk. They were flattering him. That wasn’t necessary. You had me at ten thousand credits.

“So you need us to find someone?” he asked pointedly, trying to hurry things along.

The two aliens exchanged looks. “That is true. But first let us give you the details.” Volic reached in his pocket and removed a small grey cube about two inches square. “Do you know what this is?”

Adam looked at the object resting on the table. “A rather plain looking paperweight?”

The alien frowned. “Before embarking on our journey, we uploaded much Human scientific terminology into our translators, but I am at a loss as to the reference.”

“Sorry, I was trying to be funny.”

The aliens stared at him.

“So, what is it?”

Volic looked down at the innocuous cube. “That, Mr. Adam, is dark matter.”

Jym leaned forward, looking closer at the object. “Forgive, but I am familiar with the theory of dark matter,” he began. “It is an unknown particle which accounts for ninety-five percent of the mass of the universe. It is also undetectable, hence the term dark matter. It is invisible, yet this we can see. This cannot be dark matter.”

“Let me rephrase my statement, Mr. Jym,” said Volic. “This is a containment mold for dark matter. We estimate there is a pair of oppositely-charged particles within the cube, held in suspension.”

“Is that possible?” Jym asked.

“Quite possible…and true. Let me explain further for those less-informed than you.”

Adam winced. Did Volic just call him dumb?

“You are correct, dark matter is believed to comprise the vast majority of mass in the universe, and has played a vital role in the formation of all that is around us, as I will detail. In the early universe, radiation dominated, preventing normal matter, such as electrons and protons, to form into more complex structures. Yet dark matter is unaffected by radiation, only succumbing to the effects of gravity. In fact, dark matter is gravity in its purest form, and as such, it was able to form anomalies within the fabric of the early universe—dents would be a good analogy. These dents allowed subatomic particles to cluster and form into structures that would eventually become atoms, stars, galaxies…and even us. So you see, if it were not for dark matter, the universe as we know it would not exist.”

Adam thought about the ten thousand credits waiting at the end of the lecture. That was the only thing that kept him from yawning.

“So you’ve learned how to capture dark matter. What good is it?”

“An excellent question, Mr. Adam. Let me demonstrate.”

Volic took the cube and moved it close to the glass of water. The surface of the liquid began to vibrate, causing concentric circles to radiate out from the center. “Dark matter affects gravity, even a small quantity such as this. Also…”

The second Gracilian removed a metal apparatus from his satchel. It was a short rail with holders placed at each end and a tube running between them. The holders couldn’t be more than an inch apart. Volic placed his cube in the holder at one end and a second cube Kandor gave him in the other. He took a remote control device in his hand and leaned back in his chair. He worked the controls. The movement of the two holders was barely noticeable, but as they came closer, the overhead lighting grew brighter.

“What I have here is a dark matter generator. The cubes are oriented in such a way that a negatively charged particle along one face is aligned with a positively charged particle in the other cube. As they draw closer, the particles attract, drawing in energy from the surrounding ether. The dark matter does not radiate energy, instead it consolidates it. The electric field surrounding the wires in the light absorbs this energy and helps power the effect. To further explain, if I allowed the two cubes to come in contact with each other, the amount of energy that could be siphoned off would be enough to power this entire station indefinitely. And only nine such cubes, in a particular arrangement, could power a planet.”

Jym snapped his mouth closed, having let it fall open during Volic’s speech. “If this is true, then you are to be congratulated. You have found an unlimited source of energy and in compact form. Your technology is beyond revolutionary.”

“Your enthusiasm should be tempered, Mr. Jym. As you know, such a discovery will cause numerous industries to collapse and economies to fail.”

“That has happened with all great inventions,” Kaylor stated, joining the conversation. “Eventually societies adapt to the new economy.”

Jym waved him off. “I am still in awe of your achievement. How did you do it?”

The aliens looked at each other again, this time with tiny frowns on their dark foreheads. “That is the issue,” Volic said. “We did not develop this technology…we found it.” Before the others could react, Volic looked Adam in the eye. “In the Zaniff asteroid field within the Cadonic system.”

Adam’s stomach turned to knots.

“Is that not where the Aris service module was found?” Jym asked Adam, much to his chagrin. Knowledge of the Aris was not universally known, and now Jym had just blurted it out in front of the Gracilians.

Volic noticed Adam’s reaction.

“Please, Mr. Adam, have no distress. We have known of the Aris for some time. Since the first artifact was found, there has been a veritable rush to the asteroid field in search of other remains. Most have been pieces of buildings or furniture, along with several modules, including two more of the metallic orbs. All these objects are highly prized by both researchers and collectors alike. We have also deciphered some of the language of the ancients, knowing they were called Aris and that they went extinct three billion years ago.”

Adam begged to differ with the alien; he knew better about the date of their so-called extinction. But he kept quiet.

“It was the Aris who developed this technology?” Kaylor asked.

“Yes, Mr. Kaylor. We found within the remains of their shattered homeworld direct evidence that the Aris had learned to harness dark matter to power their society. The ancient beings had evolved to such a point that they survived on pure energy, and dark matter was the source.”

“You said direct evidence,” Adam said. “What evidence?”

Volic laughed. “Even before this great discovery, the evidence was right before our eyes—and yours, too, Mr. Adam.”

“What do you mean?”

“You recall the original artifact, the metallic orb found in a three-billion-year-old section of wall upon the asteroid? You should—you and your associate Riyad Tarazi stole it from us.”

“We were forced to…to save our friends Kaylor and Jym.”

“That is beside the point. What I wish to say is that we had a chance to study the orb before you took it. Do you know the purpose of the device?”

“It was a personal service module for the Aris, providing them with energy, which they took in directly.”

Volic was impressed. “That is correct, yet I wonder how you know the details?”

Adam debated telling the alien that the orb possessed an advanced form of artificial intelligence…and that it could speak. It also had a name: Zee. He decided to remain quiet and let the Gracilians reveal what they knew. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Regardless, within the orb we found a pair of wafers and studied the energy signature they produced. This data was retained, and when we compared it to the containment cubes we found, we detected the same signature. Did you ever wonder how the artifact produced the energy it did? It was through the use of dark matter particles within the unit. So you, Mr. Adam, once held a dark matter generator in your hands and did not even know it. And where is this orb now, may I ask?

Adam nodded. “My daughter has it.”

Volic and the other Gracilian widen their brow-less eyes. “Ah yes, your mutant offspring Lila, the product of an interspecies union between you and the Formilian Arieel Bol. Does she not absorb energy directly as a means of survival?”

“That’s right.” Lila was well-known throughout the galaxy, having ruled it for a period a few years back.

“And this orb supplies her with this energy, just as it did the ancient Aris?”

“Sometimes.”

“Interesting….” Volic continued with his story. “Recently, searchers within the asteroid field found a new device, an object four kol square by two in thickness.” Adam knew a kol was about a foot in Juirean measurement. “We acquired the unit, which was encrusted in ancient lava from the moment the Aris world was destroyed. It was brought to our research facility and freed of the encasing stone. Along its outer shell we found holders for sixty of the containment cubes. It was further discovered that as a cube was removed, another would take its place within a few standard days.”

“A dark matter collector?” Jym asked.

“Yes, and still functioning after three billion years.”

“So you not only have some of these cubes, but you have the means to create more. Incredible,” Jym said. “So when does this new energy technology become available?”

The alien turned serious. “That is a more complicated subject, Mr. Jym; however, unknown to us, knowledge of our discovery filtered to other parties. We received an unsolicited offer to purchase the unit from the Maris-Kliss organization.”

“Why would a weapons manufacturer want an energy generator?” Adam asked.

“It is simple. We believe that if a single pair of dark matter particles was to be placed in a thread-shaped containment holder not more than half an inch apart, it would serve as a constantly charging battery for one of MKs ubiquitous energy weapons.”

“A permanent power source providing an unlimited number of flash bolts.” Adam concluded.

“Precisely, Mr. Adam.”

“I can see why they’d be interested. The offer must have been substantial.”

“Shocking and beyond comprehension.”

“So what did you do? Did you sell it to them?”

“No we did not.”

Adam grinned. “Not enough credits?”

Volic’s face turned to stone. “We do not care for credits, Mr. Adam. We are Gracilians; we exist only to search for answers to the mysteries of the galaxy. We rejected the offer.”

“Why?” Kaylor asked. “This is incredible technology, not only as batteries for flash weapons, but so much more. You have to release it to the galaxy.”

Volic calmed down. “I am afraid you do not have all the facts, Mr. Kaylor. There is more you do not know.”

“Then please tell us.”

Yeah, please do, Adam thought. This was taking way too long to get to the point—and his ten thousand credits.

Volic removed one of the cubes from its holder and slid the apparatus to his mute associate. The other Gracilian placed the second cube safely into the satchel.

“The material used in the containment cubes is made of an unknown substance, produced within the dark matter collector—a device we call the DMC. Your translator will convert our words to use your own initials. The particles are placed within the device at a safe distance from one another. And safe is the operable word. Do you know what would happen if the particles were allowed to meet?”

“I would imagine some sort of annihilation event,” Jym offered.

Volic absolutely beamed at the small bear-like being. “Indeed, Mr. Jym! That is the same term we use: an annihilation event.”

“How big of an event?” Adam asked, now worried that the aliens had brought a potential bomb aboard his ship.

Volic held up the cube, looking at it with dreamy eyes. “If these particles came together, half this station would disappear.”

“Disappear…not explode?” Jym asked.

“What would be created is a unique version of a singularity, similar to those created in gravity drives. It would be short-lived, and once the particles merged, the fabric of the surrounding space would return to normal, once the void is filled.”

“Explain,” Adam demanded, shaking his head.

Volic stretched out a thin grin, looking at Adam as if he was a child who just asked a stupid question. “You are aware how gravity drives work, are you not Mr. Adam?”

“Of course I am. But that wasn’t the question.”

Volic nodded. “Of course it wasn’t. What happens during the annihilation event is a volume of space in the shape of a sphere is removed, to where we can only speculate. Into this void, surrounding space is drawn in. Even though only a small section of the station would be initially affected, half of it would crash into the center of the void. This, of course, would destroy the structural integrity of the rest of the station, causing even more damage. It would have a catastrophic effect.”

Volic set the cube back on the table, a little too heavily for Adam’s liking. The damn thing was a bomb.

“Fortunately, the containment material is very durable, yet it can be breached. We discovered this while experimenting with a cube at one of our facilities. From that incident we extrapolated the exponential effects of multiple cubes being involved in a critical mass event. As I mentioned earlier, nine arranged cubes could power a planet. But if only one cube was breached, it would set off a chain reaction annihilation event that would destroy the planet. As you ponder that, imagine trillions of flash weapons and the possibility of a breach occurring. That, Mr. Adam, is why we did not sell the technology to Maris-Kliss.”

Jym was looking away at a wall in the room, his eyes wide and intense. He turned back to the Gracilians. “You mentioned the collector—the DMC—had holders for sixty of these cubes, and that the device is producing even more?”

“That is correct. All holders are filled, or will be within two days of cubes being removed.”

“What if a cube on the DMC ruptured? What kind of annihilation event would that create?”

Volic turned somber and serious. “An event such as that would produce a singularity large enough to impact a tenth of the galaxy. In addition, the supermassive black hole at the galactic core would be drawn in and the combined gravitational influence of both would disrupt the balance of forces operating in this region of the universe. Over time, the galaxy as we know it would cease to exist.”

“All from a machine about the size of a large suitcase?” Adam asked, stunned, yet still not convinced.

“That is correct. That is why we moved our research operations to a location outside the plane of the galaxy. We also keep the elements separated and manage the cubes within the DMC.”

“So you must have hundreds of these cubes?”

“Ninety-eight, to be exact, including these two, Mr. Adam,” Volic said. “However, that is no longer the case. For you see, the DMC has been stolen from the research station, and along with it a fair supply of the cubes.”

Adam recoiled from the news. It was now clear why the aliens had come to him. The deadly Aris device has been stolen and the Gracilians want him to get it back.

“I want a million credits, half upfront and non-refundable.”

Adam grimaced when Jym literally fell off his chair. Way to keep your poker face, Jym, he thought.

The Gracilians didn’t react to the statement, except to say: “Agreed.”

Now it was Adam’s turn to fight off a near-fainting spell. Damn, I could’ve asked for more!

“And we will provide you with a Gracilian prototype vessel for the search. It is not as fast as the trans-dimensional starship you are used to, but it does possess advanced technology, making it the fastest vessel using conventional gravity drive in the galaxy.”

Adam looked at his two alien friends, unable now to contain his excitement. This would be enough money to get the Colony Ship to Earth. From there he could still do his bounty hunting business while being closer to his homeworld and the ongoing efforts to put his life back together.

“So who took the collector?”

“Agents hired by Maris-Kliss after we refused to sell the DMC.”

“An inside job?”

Volic frowned. “Inside job?”

“Yeah, someone working at the research facility.”

Volic’s face lit up with understanding. “Yes, an inside job! I shall explain. The accumulation of cubes at our research station affects the surrounding fabric of space. As a result, the positioning engines, as well as internal gravity, have been affected on a continual basis. To remedy this annoyance, we hired a permanent technician and his assistant to maintain the systems. It was this pair who absconded with the device, intending to provide it to Maris-Kliss.”

“Has the exchange taken place?”

“Not as of yet. As mentioned, gravity is affected by so many cubes. Only recently we have developed an effective screening process that negates most of the gravity damping effect. Fortunately, the thieves did not take that with them. There is a possibility both the gravity drive of their stolen starship, as well as wormhole communications, have been affected. We are monitoring events, and as of now, the transfer has not taken place.”

Adam was worried. His team used CW links to locate their subjects. If CW was down aboard the thieves’ starship, they couldn’t make any calls that could be traced.

“I’ll need the location of the research station. The thieves will have to get to a planet where they can use a land-based CW facility. How much time has elapsed since the theft?”

“Six standard days.”

Adam flinched. “How long would it take to get back in the galaxy from your station, assuming a functioning gravity drive?”

“At least ten days.”

“Good; we still have time.”

Adam smiled at the dark-skinned aliens across the table from him. “I assume you have the credits with you—the ten thousand plus the advance. Why don’t we take care of that part of the transaction right now?”

* * *

Adam and his team watched as the Gracilians counted out stacks of light green Juirean credit chips. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything smaller, would you?” Adam asked. “There are not a lot of places that can break a twenty-five thousand credit chip.”

The answer was no, and Adam didn’t press the issue. They had about ninety thousand credits in smaller denominations aboard the Colony Ship. That would get the operation underway.

Once the money part of the transaction was consummated, Volic looked at Adam and frowned. “Do you not wish to know the identities of the thieves?”

He’d completely forgotten to ask for more details, too wrapped up in the aura of a half-a-million credit advance.

“Yes, of course. Sorry. We’ll also need photos or videos of them. I assume you have those?”

“We do…and so do you, Mr. Adam.”

It was Adam’s turn to frown. Why would he have pictures of the dark matter thieves?”

“Who are they?

“Copernicus Smith and Sherri Valentine.”

Adam didn’t speak for several seconds, staring at the aliens as a series of thoughts fumbled around in his head.

“No shit?” he finally said.

“Pardon me?” Volic said, both confused and offended by the statement.

“It means did I hear you right?”

“Yes you did. Mr. Copernicus was the technician we hired to tend to the gravity drives. Miss Sherri came with him. Maris-Kliss was able to make contact and gave them the assignment for an undisclosed amount of credits. We do not believe they came to the station with the express purpose of stealing the DMC. It was more an opportunity event which both parties took advantage of.”

“Do they know how dangerous these cubes are?”

“We do not believe so. We have informed MK, yet they seem unconcerned. After your friends stole a starship from the facility and left, we have attempted contact to let them know. Yet their communication links are not operating.”

Adam was floored by the news. Sherri and Copernicus, two of his closest friends—at least Sherri was—now possessed the most dangerous device in the galaxy…and they didn’t even know it. He smirked, an expression that confused the Gracilians.

Sherri and Coop may have stolen the device without realizing the danger, but here Adam was about to rush headlong after them to recover it. By all rights, he should be bolting away in the opposite direction as fast as he could. That would be the smart move. But that wasn’t what he did…ever.

* * *

The Gracilians provided details on the location of the research facility and then they left the Klin Colony Ship, leaving one of their starships in the landing bay. Adam and his team went right to work.

“Jym, program the computer to search for images of Sherri and Copernicus. Kaylor, get a new power module for the Davion and then be ready to back me up should I need it. I’m not worried about Sherri or Coop making a fuss, not after they learn the truth about what they have. What I am worried about is what MK will do, and anyone else who gets wind of the collector—the DMC. I’ll take the Gracilian ship to the Frontier. They say I can make it there in seven days, which is pretty damn fast. I’ll keep trying to raise Sherri on the CW just in case I can break through.”

His friends agreed to the plan and two hours later Adam had the alien starship loaded with supplies and weapons—including a couple of grav-drive torpedoes he found on the Colony Ship—and was out the airlock, heading for deep space. His biggest concern was that his friends would make the transfer with MK before he could reach them. He found it hard to believe Maris-Kliss would place such dangerous technology in their flash weapons, but what did he know? They didn’t get to be the largest company in the galaxy by playing it safe. Hell, they may be trying to acquire the collector just to keep it out of the hands of their competitors. Still, it was a terrible risk having the DMC out in the open and accessible by people who didn’t realize the danger.

And that included Sherri and Copernicus. Honestly, Adam would have taken the assignment for free just to protect his friends. But he didn’t tell the Gracilians that.

3

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”

“That’s not helping,” Sherri Valentine chided.

“It’s not hurting either!” Copernicus Smith yelled back. He was in the forward focusing ring compartment, having just got the gravity-well to reform a few minutes before. Now it had dissolved again. “I’m beginning to think anything built by the Incus is a piece of crap. First the research facility and now this stupid ship. Hell, we can’t even keep the internal gravity working consistently. That’s a real bitch.”

Already covered in grease, he bent down and crawled back into the focusing ring access tube. As before, he couldn’t find anything wrong. The damn well just wasn’t stable. He would tweak the alignment a little and hope that would bring the engines back online. It had worked before, if only temporarily.

It had been a frustrating sequence of fits and starts. After eighteen days in space Sherri and Copernicus were just now making it back to the galactic border. They should have done it in ten. And adding to their anxiety, the Continuous Wormhole communications system was on the fritz, making it impossible to contact Maris-Kliss and coordinate the rendezvous location. They had the goods, now all they needed was the buyer.

The comm system had functioned for a little while when they first left the research station, enough to make contact and let the huge weapons manufacturer know they had the dark matter collector. But before they could agree on a contact point, the connection was lost. After that, seventeen days of silence. The buyers must be going crazy, Coop thought. He would. He was. With so much money on the line, he was nervous as a cat thinking it could all go away.

But why would it? He and Sherri still had the only DMC in existence. MK would wait. They had to.

Half an hour later Coop met Sherri on the bridge of the small—and supposedly fast—starship. The engines were working again…for the moment. That was encouraging. He also had a bandage on this forehead from when the internals failed a few minutes back, sending him crashing into an overhead support bracket.

Sherri was at the comm center with a panel removed from underneath, red-faced with frustration.

“I can’t see anything wrong with it,” Sherri growled. She got to her feet. “We have to find another CW station, and fast.”

Coop went to the nav console. Now that they were back in the galaxy, there were a few star systems within the range of even their clunky starship.

“Navior,” he said. “We could go there.”

Sherri joined him at the screen. “Do you know the place?”

“Yeah, I used to get a lot of business out of there. The Gradis Cartel has a pretty big presence there.”

“Won’t they recognize you?”

“That was years ago, and if there’s one thing I know about criminal cartels, it’s that their rank-and-file change all the time. A few of the leaders may stick around, but not the foot soldiers. It should be fine. Besides, we won’t be there long, just enough to make contact with MK.”

Sherri snorted. “After that, please promise me we’ll buy the most-expensive starship we can and then throw this piece of shit into the nearest star.”

“On that you have my word.”

They kissed, but their hearts weren’t in it. Trapped together for the past eighteen days in the tiny starship had killed what passion they may have had for each other—at least for the moment. They needed a vacation, on a warm, sandy beach somewhere. And whether or not the seven hundred fifty thousand credits they would get for the collector would rekindle the passion, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

* * *

“Uh oh,” Sherri said, looking down at the nav screen.

Copernicus was seated at the pilot’s station, his feet on the console, dozing. The engines were working at the moment, and he was taking advantage of the respite to catch up on some lost sleep. Fighting with the engines was a full-time job, just as it had been aboard the research station. He was bone tired, and if he never saw another gravity drive system in his life, it would be too soon….

“Did you say something?” he inquired, Sherri’s voice just now registering in his brain.

“Yeah, we have company.”

Coop was by her side a moment later.

She was right. A huge contact signal had lined up ahead of them, on gravity drive and closing. They knew the cargo they carried was valuable. Had others learned of it and were now wanting their piece of the pie?

Copernicus returned to the pilot seat. He had absolutely no confidence the engines would hold up during a prolonged sprint away from the huge ship. He changed course slightly, testing the intentions of the contact. The ship changed course to match his.

“I’m powering down,” he said. “No use making them fire on us. If the shields work like the rest of the systems on this ship, it would only take one cannon bolt to take us out.”

A sound bleeped through the bridge speakers. Sherri looked at Coop. “What’s that?” Then it dawned on her: it was an incoming conventional communications message. CW links had been used for so long that she’d forgotten what an old-fashion comm signal sounded like. She didn’t even know starships still had them.

She went to the station, and after a moment, found the contact switch. The message was audio-only.

“We are reading you…what do you want?” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“We are representatives of the Maris-Kliss organization. Is this the vessel from the Incus-Gracilian research facility?”

“Yes! Yes it is!” Sherri shouted. “Boy, are we glad to hear from you. Our CW system has been down. How did you find us?”

“We extrapolated your course from the station to the nearest Incus Federation world and positioned ourselves for an intercept along that path.”

“Well, great job. We have the collector. Are you ready to make the transfer?”

There was silence on the line, which caused Sherri to look at Coop and shrug.

“You say you have the dark matter device…and the cubes?” asked the deep voice through the speakers.

“Yes, the device plus fifty-two cubes.”

“Are they secure?”

Sherri frowned. “Yes, they’re in the cases used by the Gracilians. We haven’t messed with them. They’re just as secure as when we took them.” She pursed her lips, growing frustrated and nervous. “Do you want them or not? If you don’t, I’m sure there are others who do.”

Copernicus grimaced, believing Sherri’s tone was a little harsh, especially when speaking with representatives from the largest company in the galaxy.

“We will make the transfer,” said the voice. “We were under the impression you had betrayed us, since no communications were forthcoming.”

“That’s understandable. But we’re not betraying anyone. Is your ship large enough to take this one onboard?”

“Yes. We will approach. Rendezvous in thirty standard minutes.”

The hum of the comm connection ended, signaling an end to the conversation.

“That was strange,” Coop said. “You would think they would be more excited.”

“Don’t read too much into it, sweetie. After all, these are aliens we’re dealing with.”

Coop laughed. “Yeah…and that’s just what they’re saying about us.”

4

Copernicus had never seen such a new and shiny starship as the Maris-Kliss vessel. It was built around a long central rectangle, with various modules mounted on the hull, along with stubby wings on each side. The wings were for sensors and advanced focusing ring pods, not for aerodynamics. There was a huge bridge above another large ring compartment that looked to also contain a formidable armament array, if the cannon turrets dotting the exterior were an indicator. This would be unusual for a commercial vessel, if the ship didn’t belong to the largest weapons manufacturer in existence. Coop figured it had been built as part of their sales pitch to potential clients. A practical demonstration of their firepower would be…impressive.

Although the tiny Gracilian starship was about to enter the bowls of the much larger and well-armed vessel—like Jonah into the whale—Copernicus was anxious to get inside and take a look at the interior. He would also ask for a tour of the engine compartments before he left.

Copernicus had been trained as a starship mechanic long before being recruited to do undercover government work. They came to him several years ago, appealing to his patriotism—and greed. The pay was great and much more stable than the starship repair business. The government knew who his clients were, and paid him well for inside information regarding ship movements, cargos and the individuals involved. His connections with various cartels, syndicates, and just plain old bad guys made him a valuable asset to the government of Earth and their galactic Union. It was exciting work—more exciting than crawling around in engine compartments all day—although he still did that as part of his cover. But knowing he was also in the spy business gave him an extra boost of adrenaline and adventure. When shaving in the morning, he could often be heard talking to the mirror, saying: “Smith…Copernicus Smith,” in his best Sean Connery accent. He loved being a spy.

That being said, Copernicus was still impressed by a well-built starship. He’d spent so much time keeping barely-serviceable vessels running, that to see something this new and sophisticated was almost a sexual experience. He didn’t tell Sherri that, although he suspected she already knew.

When the Gracilian ship was secure in the hold, the two Humans stepped out into the voluminous chamber, marveling at the shiny metal beams, spotless deck and perfectly stacked and secured chemical propellant containers against the bulkheads. And the crew was just as clean and impressive. Being an interstellar organization, there was no dominant species within Maris-Kliss. Although the company had been founded on the planet Maris, it had outgrown that location centuries ago. Today, one would be hard pressed to say where the headquarters was located. They had so many large operations on dozens of worlds that it was impossible to tell which was number one. And the management liked it that way. They switched locations like some people changed their underwear, mainly to keep governments and their taxing authorities chasing their tail.

Coop and Sherri quickly identified more than ten distinct Prime species in the landing bay alone. It was remarkable, because their uniforms—even when worn by creatures with a variety of body shapes—all seemed to fit together. This was a crew in the most literal sense of the word.

A steward came to escort the Humans and their stolen items to the meeting with the big-wigs from MK. A second assistant placed the DMC and the satchel with the cubes on a motorized cart and followed them to a large conference room. Two beings in stark white business suits were waiting for them. Coop’s first thought was: how do they keep the suits so clean aboard a starship? It was something to which he could not relate.

Both aliens were taller than the Humans, with one very close to Human-like in appearance, while the other had a pair of normal looking arms and hands, but two more sets of smaller appendages below. Coop had seen beings like this before, if not this particular species. The smaller arms were used for feeding and grooming. It was a good bet that the alien’s mouth was in his belly somewhere, hidden now by a flap of silky white fabric. He spoke through the second mouth found on his normal looking face.

“You are Copernicus Sminn and Sheren Ballentine?”

Sherri smiled. “It’s pronounced Copernicus Smith and Sherri Valentine.”

She was immediately taken aback when the six-armed alien flipped one of his hands at her in a dismissive fashion.

“It matters not your names. I was simply verifying identity. Are you the thieves from the station?”

“You know we are,” Sherri snapped. She didn’t like this alien very much and wasn’t afraid to show it. Coop squeezed her arm.

“Yes, we are the agents you hired,” he said. “We have acquired the device and now wish to complete our business arrangement with the very-esteemed Maris-Kliss organization.”

The two white-suited aliens took seats across a large table from the Humans. “Very well. Is this the device…and the cubes?”

Coop moved to the cart and opened the satchel. He pulled out two thin metal containers and placed them on the table. He opened both lids. Inside was another clear cover, revealing three rows of ten compartments each. All the holders in one case were filled with small gray cubes, while the other had seven missing.

The aliens recoiled slightly. “Where are the missing cubes?”

Coop shook his head. “They weren’t in there when we took the case. The Gracilians must have them aboard the station. But we do have the collector, and all sixty of those containers are full.”

He left the DMC on the cart but flipped open the outer covers on each side, showing the aliens the rows of cube containers. There were no other openings on the collector, not even a control panel. He knew from listening to the scientists that when a cube was removed, another would appear a few days later without any outside help. He closed the lids.

“Where is the rest?” two-arms asked.

Coop tensed. “What rest? This is all we have.”

“There is a screening apparatus.”

“What’s that?” Sherri asked, sharing Coop’s trepidation. If they didn’t have a complete package would they get paid?

The aliens looked at each with an amused countenance.

“The screening apparatus protects external systems from the gravitational influence of the collector and the cubes,” said two-arms. “The cases are made of the material, which keep the cubes from reacting with each other, but not from the larger effects surrounding them.” The alien attempted a thin smile. “That would be the reason you had difficulties with your engines and communication system.” He looked at his partner in white. “And that would explain the temporary loss of internal gravity we experienced as their ship was moved into the landing bay. We shall have to guard against the cubes being near the gravity drive.”

The sour look on the faces of the two Humans was priceless, if the aliens understood their expressions. They certainly seemed to grasp the sick humor of the situation.

“So what does this mean for our contract?” Sherri asked, fearing the answer.

“It matters not. There is no change from our intended mission.”

Sherri and Copernicus were both visibly relieved. The transfer would go on as planned—

“Yet we have an issue you may not find agreeable,” said the six-armed alien.

Sherri and Coop turned pale.

The alien continued: “This ship was embarked on a mission to recover the dark matter device and the accompanying cubes without recourse. Having no contact with you beyond the initial, it was decided to take other measures to secure the device. That is our mission, not to provide credits for the effort.”

“What does that mean?” Sherri barked.

“It means they’re going to take the DMC…while leaving us out to dry,” Coop translated.

“It is a wise course of business,” said six-arms. “Maris-Kliss acquires the device and for no cost.”

“It’s only seven hundred fifty thousand credits!” Sherri pointed out. “Hell, your suits probably cost that much. It’s nothing to MK.”

“That is not relevant. Every credit is accounted for, and if a transaction can be completed at little or no cost, that is preferred.”

“But you’re going back on your agreement with us.” Coop said. “We did the job you hired us for. We deserve to be paid.”

“If you were a part of the Maris-Kliss organization, you would. Yet you are not. You are independent contractors, and with the break in communications, any verbal contract we may have had with you became void.”

“According to whom?” Sherri growled.

“According to Maris-Kliss,” six-arms growled back. “We are the only party that matters in this transaction. There is no need for further discussion. We will take the device and the accessories. The question now becomes what do we do with you?”

Sherri and Coop looked at each other nervously. That didn’t sound good.

“What do you mean? We haven’t done anything to you.” Sherri said.

“You are witnesses to the acquisition of the device. You know its origin and, we assume, its function.”

“We don’t know shit!” Sherri said. “The Incus and Gracilians were doing things with the DMC and the cubes, but we didn’t know what. That wasn’t why we were there.”

“You did not hear others talk?” said two-arms.

Sherri hesitated. “Nothing…honestly.”

She hoped her momentary delay in answering wouldn’t be noticed by the two impeccably-dressed aliens. The truth was, while Copernicus worked on the engines at the station, Sherri had been busy hacking into computer databases aboard the station. She knew more than she was letting on, not so much about the purpose of the DMC and the cubes, but who was interested in buying them. MK wasn’t the only player in the game.

But the aliens did notice the hiccup and saw it for what it was—deception.

By means of some unseen signal, the aliens summoned others to the room. A Rigorian and another alien the Humans didn’t recognize entered, wearing chest armor and pointing two strange-looking flash weapons at them.

“You will be detained until we receive instructions from our superiors,” said six-arms.

The alien followed Coop’s line of sight to the shiny, slightly larger-than-normal handguns the guards carried. “I see you have noticed the MK-88X. We at Maris-Kliss are very proud of our latest line of bolt launchers.” The alien beamed with pride, as if he was at a trade-show convention and showing off his company’s latest gizmo. All Copernicus wanted to know was if it could kill a Human with a single bolt?

The alien answered the question as if he had read Coop’s mind. “The ’88 was designed specifically with Humans in mind. It has been known for some time that your species has a resistance to level-two bolts, and even level-one is mostly non-lethal unless the subject is struck in a vulnerable area of the body. You are also mostly immune to the electrical effects from a conventional bolt. Because of this, we have developed this prototype weapon that addresses those concerns.”

Six-arms stopped suddenly and looked at his partner with wide-eyed excitement.

“I believe we have been presented with an excellent opportunity, to not only demonstrate the effectiveness of the ’88, but also to experiment.”

Two-arms picked up on the enthusiasm of the other alien. “Yes. And we can use the survivor to study the damaging effect of peripheral hits to the body, to discover how long and how well a subject can withstand the bolt intensity.”

“Excellent.”

While the aliens were talking, Copernicus was busy using his ATD to probe the inner workings of the new MK-88X. Although he wasn’t a master with the Formilian brain-interface device, the process of disabling flash weapons was something he’d paid particular attention to during the training sessions with Adam Cain and his team. He was the least-experienced with the device, but he was learning.

He was also relieved to find, that although MK had upgraded the output of the weapon, they hadn’t changed any of the basic internal components. There was still a firing circuit which he could sever. There was also a battery feed line, that if blocked while the weapon was being fired, could turn the handgun into a small grenade against the user.

He wasn’t worried and tried to convey that to Sherri with his expression. Although her ATD was broken, she was thinking the same thing. She knew what ATDs could do to flash weapons. She got the message.

“Take this pair to the medical bay and lock them a quarantine room,” two-arms said.

Sherri and Copernicus stood up, doing nothing to resist. They had to plan their escape carefully, rather than fly off the handle. However, if the aliens were planning on using them for target practice right away…that would be another matter.

5

Copernicus was busy surveying the ship’s electrical components as the Humans were marched to the sickbay. The Rigorian kept poking him in the ribs, just for the fun of it. It was becoming annoying. When they reached the department, they were placed in a room with a secure lock on the door and a large window along one wall where medical personnel could observe the patient—or patients—inside. They weren’t patients—rather prisoners—so the medical crew paid them no attention. The guards, on the other hand, remained outside and on station. Coop could swear the expression on the huge lizard-like Rigorian was one of anticipation. He seemed anxious to test out his new-fangled flash weapon on the Humans. Copernicus smiled. He would be sorely disappointed if he tried.

Sherri wrapped Coop in her arms, feigning distress, while whispering in his ear in case they were being monitored.

“Do you have the controls identified?”

“Yep. The door, the weapons…I even have the electric cart with the DMC being tracked.”

“Great job.” She bit his earlobe. “I knew you had it in you. Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah: Get out of here and kill every alien in sight.”

“Now you sound like Adam.”

“That hurt.”

“Don’t knock it; it’s been effective in the past. But this time I think we need something a little more subtle.”

Coop snuggled against her. “What do you have in mind, baby?”

“Do you know where the engine room is aboard this tub?”

“I got your engine right here….”

“Get serious!”

“Yeah, I can find it with the ATD. There are a lot of unique signals I can trace.”

“Good. This is what we’re going to do—and not that!”

* * *

To their surprise—and relief—the cart with the DMC was near the sickbay. Medical facilities were normally located amidships, being the most secure part of the ship in case of attack. The white suits were being careful with the dark matter collector, keeping it as far from the gravity generators at the stern and the complex focusing rings forward and on the short wings. That placed the valuable cargo only steps from where they were being held prisoner.

The motor on the electric cart wasn’t only controlled by a Formilian-designed module, it was also robotic and able to follow wires embedded in the deck to move about the ship on command. Coop took control of the cart and set it in motion, having to open a door to remove it from the compartment it was in. If anyone was in the room with it they would assume it was transporting the contents to another part of the ship by command of higher ups.

Next he leaned nonchalantly against the wall near the door. Sherri stood at the end of the hospital bed, facing the door. Coop tripped the lock with his ATD. When the panel suddenly slid open, it was so quiet that the guards didn’t notice. Coop slipped around the corner and planted a flat-handed chop across the throat of the unknown species of guard, sending him crumbling to the deck. Sherri sprang from the room and turned the other way, catching the Rigorian by surprise. She pinned the huge body against the wall while Coop pulled the MK-88X from the alien’s holster.

“I believe you were anxious to test out your new weapon,” Coop said to him, pressing the barrel hard against the bottom of the alien’s long, tooth-lined snout. “Let me help.” He pulled the trigger.

“Dammit, you jerk!” Sherri yelled, now covered in warm Rigorian blood. “That wasn’t cool.”

The small medical staff was in shock and froze when Copernicus turned the weapon on them. He motioned the four aliens inside the quarantine room, but not before telling two of them to strip and turn over their tailored uniforms to the Humans. Then he disabled the internal comm box and shut the door, locking the menagerie of aliens inside.

Sherri and Coop hurriedly dressed in the uniforms—after washing Rigorian blood from their faces—and then ran into the outer corridor just as the cart was passing by. Copernicus took the satchel and rushed ahead of Sherri and the cart, along a passageway toward the aft end of the ship. Sherri and the cart followed the same path, but to the landing bay and the stolen Gracilian starship.

The uniforms helped, and no one paid them any attention. Coop wouldn’t be surprised to learn that a few Humans worked for Maris-Kliss, the company was that huge and all-encompassing. In what capacity they would serve, he had no idea. Possibly weapons designers. Humans weren’t known for their loyalty to their race.

Copernicus reached the main engine room and entered, the satchel draped over his shoulder. He came in like he owned the place and moved immediately to the confluence of two huge generators. There were eight in the room, which to his amazement, were each spotless and mostly automated. Two workers took notice of him and approached.

“You are not of the engineering crew,” one said. “What is your purpose here?”

“I’ve come to disable the generators so my associate and I can escape from your ship and you can’t follow.” The aliens stopped and stared at him, their tiny brains working overtime to decipher the statement. The translation device spoke the words, they just didn’t make sense.

When Coop swung the satchel off his shoulder and into the head of one of the aliens—while following with a swift kick to the midsection of the other—they got the message. Coop sat the satchel on the deck while he hid the bodies behind one of the generators.

Then he moved behind the dynamos and took out one of the carrying cases with the gray, dark matter cubes. He didn’t know how many it would take to disrupt the gravity drive of the huge ship, so he removed five and placed them behind various structural components. He’d seen the Gracilians handle them barehanded, so he wasn’t worried. What bothered him, however, was when he moved one of the cubes too close to another they both began to vibrate. After that, he kept them separated and spread over a ten foot section of the generator. The dark matter cubes had never been this close to critical engine parts aboard the Gracilian starship, and yet they still affected the formation of gravity-wells. He hoped that by placing them directly on the generators it would really mess up the works within the MK vessel.

When he was done, he closed the lid on the container and put it back in the satchel. No one else had entered the room so he exited quickly and turned left toward the landing bay.

* * *

The small electric cart had obediently followed its programming and rolled onto the latticed metal decking of the landing bay. Coop wasn’t sure exactly where the Gracilian ship was within the huge chamber, so he had the cart stop when it entered. Sherri would have to push it the rest of the way.

To her consternation, she found the wheels were locked. So she hefted the suitcase-sized DMC off the cart and carried it to the small starship.

There were about a dozen smaller craft in the bay, all MK vessels, shiny and new. She was almost tempted to take one of them, but figured the controls would be unfamiliar and the ships might have locators in them. So she activated the side hatch on the smaller, older spacecraft and lugged the DMC inside.

“Are you authorized entry?” asked a voice from behind.

She turned to see a female crewmember with light red skin and a hairless scalp standing in the hatchway. There was no doubt the alien was female by the two rows of four teats each pressing out from her uniform.

“Yes, I am. I have been ordered to place this module inside the ship. Would you help me?”

The alien hesitated a moment before stepping inside the ship. She took the back end of the DMC while Sherri took the front. They carried it past the inner airlock door and then to the left, toward the ship’s midsection.

“It smells in here. How disgusting,” said the helpful alien. “I do not recognize you. What is your function here?”

They set the collector on the deck while the female crewmember took a look around the dirty, unfamiliar interior. Coop and Sherri hadn’t paid too much attention to housekeeping during their eighteen-day transit. The place was a mess…and it did smell.

“I’m a whoop-ass specialist,” Sherri answered.

“Whoop-ass specialist?” the female asked without turning. “What is that?”

A moment later, the alien was laid out on the deck, her neck snapped by Sherri’s quick twist of her bald head.

“That is a whoop-ass specialist, sweetie.”

Copernicus entered the ship a moment later and almost tripped over the dead alien. “A friend of yours?”

“We went to high school together. She stole my boyfriend.”

“Be sure to remind me never to steal a boyfriend from you.”

“As if you could.”

Coop handed her the satchel. “Put this at the center of the ship on the starboard side, away from the engines and focusing rings. I’ll take the collector and do the same, but to port. I don’t want a concentration of dark matter close to each other. They act weird when they get close.”

“So do we.”

“That’s your fault, not mine. I’m perfect just the way I am.”

* * *

They were in the pilothouse, ready to fire up the chem drive of the small starship. The problem was that the landing bay was still pressurized and the doorway had safety protocols that protected against premature opening. Copernicus scanned the controls with his brain-interface device until he found what he was looking for. It was the fire alarm.

He tripped the controller and a loud bleeping filled the chamber, echoing loudly off the metal walls. He activated the door controls.

In the case of a fire in the bay, the safety measures could be overridden, using the cold vacuum of space and the rapid depressurization to snuff out the fire. It was expected the crew would have evacuated the room by then. In this case they hadn’t.

As the double doors began to separate, a powerful steam of air escaped, taking with it flailing bodies and unsecured crates and barrels. As it widened, even a few small starships were sucked out.

Coop fired the engines, spinning the Gracilian ship a hundred and eighty degrees and toward the widening exit. When he was lined up, he gunned the jets.

The abrupt change from gravity to no gravity was gut-wrenching, but the Humans were expecting it. The tiny ship sped away, catching the Maris-Kliss bridge crew by surprise. No plasma bolts followed them before Copernicus could establish a deep gravity-well and jump.

To their relief, the well formed immediately, even though it did sputter for a moment. But then it stabilized, stronger than they’d seen it since leaving the research station. Spreading the dark matter items apart and away from critical systems was doing the trick. Now they waited to see if their sabotage job on the MK ship was going to work. They would know any moment. The huge company ship was a lot faster than they were.

* * *

The white suits were in an executive suite aboard the starship, planning their experiments with the Humans, when the call came through about a fire in the landing bay. By the time they reacted, the report had been modified to include the escape of the Gracilian ship. The aliens knew the significance of the report. They called a security detail to locate the dark matter components, already anticipating the answer. If the Humans could so effortlessly escape the huge starship, then they would be fully capable of recovering the dark matter collector and cubes before doing so.

A moment later their suspicions were confirmed. They ordered an immediate pursuit.

They waited to feel the tell-tale sign of the ship entering a gravity-well, when suddenly the internal gravity failed instead. The pair grabbed onto the edges of their seats to keep from floating away. Then the comm sounded. The engines were malfunctioning. Gravity wells could not be created. Emergency crews were working on the problem.

The suits knew what was happening, even if the crew didn’t. They ordered a search of the engine compartments, with special attention paid to any foreign objects they should fine. None were to be touched until the big-wigs showed up to supervise the removal.

The starship would be operational soon and in pursuit of the Humans. It was a good chance they would not continue to Navior; that was where MK had expected them to go initially. They would select a secondary location. That would be the smart move.

However, what worried the MK reps the most was that the Humans would undoubtedly attempt to sell the dark matter device to others. The female had mentioned that intent. The suits knew there were more buyers. That was why they acted first—and proactively—by having the device stolen from the Gracilians. But their supervisors would not be happy with this turn of events. The white suits would return to a local MK facility to await instructions. The vast network of company contacts would locate the Humans. And then they would react.

Humans! Damn Humans!

6

Even with the gravity drive working, it still took Sherri and Copernicus three days to reach the planet Navior, all the while looking over their shoulders for any sign of an approaching MK starship. They were both confused and relieved when no following signal was detected. Where did they go? The white suits knew Navior was their destination. And with a marginally-operational starship and a cargo of valuable dark matter paraphernalia, it made sense that they would want to unload the hot commodity as soon as possible. Navior was the only planet in the area where that could happen.

Sherri and Copernicus were exhausted by the time they shut down the engines of their stolen starship in a spaceport outside the city of Prannis. Bowing to Sherri’s cautious nature, the city was on the opposite side of the planet from the main concentration of Cartel activity, just in case some of Coop’s old buddies were still hanging around.

The gravity on Navior was lighter than that of the starship and the air thinner, yet rich in oxygen. As a result, they had an extra spring in their steps, in spite of their weariness. As they prepared to exit the ship, each wore an MK-17 flash weapon. Everyone on Navior was armed. They would look out of place if they weren’t as well. And even though they had two of the fancy new MK-88X weapons, they left them on the ship. They would attract too much attention. Their trusty ’17s would have to do.

The plan was to find a CW café and make calls to the other four buyers who had been interested in the dark matter collector. Sherri had found their names and contact coordinates while hacking the Gracilian computers at the research station. This was after they’d already accepted the contract from Maris-Kliss. Now she had the links in a datapad, ready to cut another—and possibly—better deal.

Before leaving the ship to go in search of a CW communications facility, they scrounged together all the money they could find. It wasn’t much. Sherri was unemployed and Copernicus had only received one paycheck since arriving on the research station as their full-time gravity drive mechanic. Before that, times had even been worse.

After all their bank accounts on Earth were seized, the pair was left with no reserves and barely enough to keep a roof over their heads. Sherri had no marketable skills, having never finished her studies to become a veterinarian. And how could she? She had been abducted by the alien Klin twenty years ago and cast into a strange galaxy to fend for herself. After that she’d spent time as an alien assassin and then as an on-again, off-again member of Adam’s intergalactic team of troubleshooters and reluctant heroes. At one point, she took a break from traveling the stars and married a real estate broker from San Francisco’s South Bay area. But she grew restless and ran off once again to join Adam’s wild circus.

Copernicus Smith was another story. He had worked for a super-secret agency of the Human government as a deep-cover spy, using the legend as a starship repairman to gain valuable intel on the various criminal cartels operating within the Kidis Frontier. Even though it was just a cover, Coop was a very good mechanic, and he parlayed his reputation as a less-than-reputable character to find work repairing cartel starships that no honest company would touch. It was a pretty good gig, until he got the assignment to blackmail Adam and Riyad into stealing a newly discovered alien artifact. One thing lead to another and his next assignment involved selling the two Humans to the Klin as a means of tracking the aliens to one of their hidden Colony Ships. The mission was a success—sort of—but that was another story.

While on Earth after the Klin war—and counting all the money he and Sherri didn’t have—Coop began to put out feelers for mechanic work, eventually landing the job at the Incus research facility. It didn’t pay well and the facility was located in the middle of nowhere. But they were desperate. He and Sherri were required to live aboard the station, which suited them fine. They didn’t have anywhere else to go…which wasn’t exactly true.

By then Adam had taken possession of the huge Klin Colony Ship and offered them a place to stay. But considering the added cost of running the station with them aboard, as well as the fact that Coop and Adam would be in the same place, Sherri encouraged her current boyfriend to take the job on the distant research station instead. She was looking for a break, a new start without all the drama.

Of course that was before they discovered what the scientists were researching on the station. Dark matter collectors and generators; pretty fascinating stuff, especially when she got wind of the money the Incus—and their brains, the Gracilians—where being offered for the technology. And when the aliens turned down all the offers that’s when they heard from Maris-Kliss. If the Gracilians weren’t interested in letting this wondrous new technology out to the galaxy, then Sherri and Coop would help MK do it. It only seemed right. And for three-quarters of a million credits, why not?

Everything had gone smoothly, up until they were in space and bolting back to the galaxy. Then two hours out from the station, the engines shut down for the first time. After that, it was almost every two hours like clockwork. Coop figured he’d gotten a total of twenty hours sleep during the eighteen days before they met up with the MK starship, after that, maybe another six hours or so. He was like the walking dead when he and Sherri entered a CW comm cafe to rent a station.

* * *

Continuous Wormhole communications was all the rage these days. Having been invented by the Klin ten years before, it allowed for instantaneous links between stations for up to an hour, before the natural movement of the galaxy broke the connection. But that was much better than how it used to be. The technology was still spreading across the galaxy, with nearly every starship equipped with the system. However, it wasn’t as wide-spread on the planets of the Kidis Frontier. Although large land-based centers had CW comms, homes seldom did; it was far too expensive. So in every community there were CW cafes set up where individuals could rent time to make interstellar calls. Being as far out along the outer trim of the galaxy, there weren’t a lot of cafes on Navior, with just a handful in the city of Prannis.

“The system is down,” the native clerk announced as soon as the Humans walked in.

Sherri shook her head. She had a good idea why. Although separating the dark matter components had worked on the gravity drive, it didn’t help with their CW comm. The system was affected more by subtle changes in the curvature of space around the ship, something dark matter played havoc with. The system remained down during the entire trip from the station to Navior. And now it appeared the DMC was also affecting local CW comms.

“Is there another facility nearby?” she asked, curious how far the influence reached.

“Three ribbons to the north…but they are down as well. This happens sometimes.”

“How long ago did your system go down?”

“About two local hours ago.” That confirmed it. That was about the time they landed.

“Are your normal comm links still working?” Coop asked the clerk.

“Yes.”

“May we make a link to a CW facility in a nearby city? It’s very important that we complete our communications.”

“We have an affiliated facility in Annador.”

“Where is that?”

“Fifty miles to the east.”

Coop’s embedded translation device converted the local units of distant into miles. That wasn’t too far, although they had very little money for a fifty mile trip and to make the calls they needed to.

“Can you check with them to see if their system is active?”

* * *

The clerk did and it was; a moment later Sherri and Coop were rushing down the streets of Prannis heading for the tube-train station and the cheapest fare they could find to Annador.

On the train, Sherri grew more nervous. They had at least four links to make, each to powerful entities located throughout the galaxy, and that was assuming they could reach them. That would cost money, and depending on the length of the negotiations, even more. And then they had to return to Prannis and the ship. It was going to be tight.

They arrived in Annador by mid-afternoon and found the CW café. They would be charged by the link, not the time. CW links could only last an hour at the most, so whether they talked for ten minutes or an hour, it was the same cost. They entered a secure comm booth and Coop programmed in the first coordinates. They would keep the links to audio only, not only to protect their identity, but also to save money. Audio links cost less that video comms.

The first link was to the Fazon company, the largest manufacturer of cold fusion reactors in the galaxy. They had heard of this new dark matter energy source and had contacted the Gracilians, before receiving the same summary rejection as MK. However, they weren’t as aggressive as the weapons maker. That was why Copernicus and Sherri would concentrate on energy companies, although they had to contact Xan-fi. They made the long-barrel weapons, the result of an agreement reach centuries ago between them and Maris-Kliss. MK would make handguns, Xan-fi larger weapons. The accommodation worked well on the surface, yet both companies were anxious to infringe upon the territory of the other. The other major weapons companies were on Earth and Incus. Neither of them honored any agreement with their competitors.

As it turned out, the contact links they had for the prospective bidders were private numbers and answered immediately. The companies knew the potential for dark matter technology and were anxious to speak with the two thieves.

Sherri nearly peed her pants when the first offer was made by Fazon. Coop didn’t believe his ears and asked twice for clarification before acknowledging the bid. Thirty million Juirean credits—and this was just the opening salvo. And they were going to turn the DMC over to MK for a measly three-quarters-of-a-million credits….

They knew they couldn’t accept the first offer; that would have been foolish. So they essentially placed the Fazon rep on hold and used another link to contact the next name on the list.

An hour later, Coop was still on the line and Sherri was getting frustrated, not with Coop, but with the fact that she was counting pennies as they negotiated what was now a sixty-million credit deal. The irony didn’t escape her.

It was obvious now that they couldn’t conclude the negotiations with the credits they had available. If they did they could be leaving millions on the table, all for the lack of a few hundred credits in their pocket. Sherri called it quits, telling Coop they had to get back to the ship and find something—anything—they could sell to come up with the thousand credits she estimated they would need to complete the negotiations.

With four very angry and desperate bidders insisting on an answer, Copernicus and Sherri apologized profusely, saying they would call back in a few hours, six at the most. They left the café and returned to the tube-train station, returning to Prannis with barely twelve Juirean credits in their pocket.

The spaceport was small and therefore had a series of blast baffles in the field so more ships could be packed in closer. The pair of overwhelmed and exhausted Humans made their way through the maze toward their stolen ship, almost too tired to realize how close they were to making the score of a lifetime. They needed money, even if they had to sell the ship’s fuel module to get it.

They turned a corner and entered the pad-section where the ship was kept. Or at least they thought it was the right place. Coop checked the number on his ticket; it matched the huge alien numbers on the concrete blast wall. This was the place…but the ship was gone.

In a panic, the pair ran to the control center and the alien on duty. He was a native Naviorean, a bulky creature with brown skin, eyes on stalks and a tail.

“Where is the ship in stall forty-four?” Coop barked at the alien.

The native recoiled from the intensity of the question, frowned and then checked his logs. “It received permission to lift sixty-eight minutes ago.”

“Who requested the lift?”

“I cannot reveal that—”

Copernicus had the native by the collar and pulled over the counter before he could finish his sentence. Although the alien was taller, he bent like a reed in the wind when Coop leaned in closer. “Answer me!”

“You should not be doing this, Human. It is against protocol.”

“That was my ship and I did not give permission for it to be taken.”

“I differ. The ship is registered to the Incus government, not to you.”

Coop tightened his grip on the alien’s collar, causing him to choke and barely able to breathe. “Don’t play games with me. Who took it?”

“The Cartel,” the clerk confessed. “The Cartel ordered it taken.”

“Which one?”

“The Gradis. They are strong on Navior. When they make a request, we oblige. It is what is done here. Please do not kill me.”

Copernicus released him. He knew how ingrained the Gradis Cartel was on the planet. He couldn’t blame the clerk.

“I know several of the leaders of the Cartel,” Coop told the native. “Who gave the order?”

The alien hesitated.

“A little late to be coy; answer me.”

“It was Frandon, Frandon G’Bur. He leads the Cartel.”

Coop took a step back.

“Do you know him?” Sherri asked.

“I did, once. He was just a mid-level soldier at the time, headstrong, but smart. He leads the Cartel now?” he asked the clerk.

The alien nodded emphatically.

“Where did they take the ship?”

“I am sorry, Human, but the Cartel does not file flight plans. I have no knowledge.”

“Is their headquarters still in Vansis?”

“Yes.”

Coop turned to Sherri. “I know the landing field there; I’ve been there a dozen times. There would be no reason to take the ship off planet. That’s probably where they took it.”

He turned back to the nervous native. “You would be wise not to mention any of this conversation to anyone. Besides the fact that you’ve revealed confidential Cartel information to us, we will also come back and rip your body to shreds if we find you have alerted the Cartel to what we’ve said. You know we can do it.”

“I know of Humans. I will be quiet. You came, saw your ship was gone, and then left. You will leave, will you not?”

Coop smiled. “As soon as you give us all the credits you have on you, plus the location of your transport. We will be borrowing it for a while. Any objections?”

There were none.

7

“Still nothing?” Adam said, frustrated. It had been eight days since he left the Colony Ship and still no hits on the facial-recognition CW search.

“Correct, and the Gracilians report that negotiations have resumed as of yesterday,” Jym reported.

“They have? How?” Adam asked.

“Unknown, yet obviously not by video link.”

“That’s it! Jym, you’re a genius. They’re not broadcasting with video,” Adam said. “They would try to remain anonymous and broadcast by audio only. Can you create a program that will search for words and phrases instead of video images?”

“Yes, but that will generate magnitudes of additional hits.”

“Search for Human English only and include words like dark matter, collector, Aris, negotiations, I’ll work on more.”

“I can do that. But out of trillions of conversations, there will still be hundreds, even thousands of hits.”

“How about by region? Can you isolate it to just the Kidis?”

“That I cannot do, not until I get the results. Then I can define each by location.”

“Good, write your program and then rerun the data from yesterday. You haven’t dumped the data yet, have you?”

“I was preparing to. It will take me a couple of hours to work this through. I will link with you when I get the initial results.”

* * *

Jym got back to Adam three hours later, and he was right. There were fourteen thousand results, although none mentioned the Aris or Sherri and Copernicus together. There were a lot of hits identifying people named Sherri, but none with enough of the other terms to be considered in the final batch.

Adam had added the phrase cut a deal in the search terms, something he figured would be distinctly Human when discussing business negotiations. He was right. There were fourteen hundred references. It seemed there were a lot of Humans out in the galaxy trying to cut deals.

In the end, Jym and Adam weeded the fourteen thousand down to six hundred eighty. From there, Jym was able to screen by comm district. They eliminated all but those coming from the Kidis Frontier, leaving one hundred nine. From here they began to look at the individual results, and the ones that sounded the most like what was being negotiated.

With the locations pinpointed, Adam then compared these to the proximity to the research station. One stood out from the others.

“Navior…what do we know about it?” Adam asked.

Both he and Jym had the planet called up in the galactic internet called the Library.

“The Gradis Cartel runs the planet,” Jym said. “Believed to be the headquarters, although they are diversified throughout the Frontier.”

“Coop used to work for the Gradis. He would know the planet.”

“Does he intend to sell the collector to the Cartel?”

“I don’t know. All they would do is turn around and sell it to someone else. I don’t see why Sherri and Coop would want to involve a middleman.”

“Middleman?”

“Someone to get in between them and all the money they could make. That would cost them millions if they did. They’ll want to go direct.”

“How far are you from Navior?” Jym asked.

Adam did some quick calculations. “I can be there in about nine hours. Where’s Kaylor?”

“He left Formil five days ago with a new power module. He should be in the Frontier in three more days. He’s on his way but may not be able to provide much support should you need it, not in nine hours.”

“I’ll be fine. He’s just a backup anyway. Keep him on track. It sounds like the negotiations are still going, so we may have time to stop them.”

Jym beamed on the screen. “We have found them!” he exclaimed.

“Possibly,” Adam said. “Let’s just hope we’re not too late.”

8

To Sherri and Coop’s amazement, the spaceport operator had six hundred eighty JCs on him. That was a lot of money for a native to be carrying around. Coop figured he got paid five hundred for letting the Cartel take the starship.

They drove the native’s car to another city two hundred miles to the west, one with a sub-orbital transportation hub. They couldn’t very well drive halfway around the planet, not in the time they had. They would ditch the car and take a quick hop to the Cartel-rich city of Vansis.

Copernicus had considered trying to sell the car for some quick money but that wasn’t possible on Navior. One would think that a planet rife with illegal cartels would be a cesspool of crime and debauchery. But that wasn’t the case. With so many Cartel members within the population, it wasn’t wise to steal a car, rob a house or even mug a person for fear of a Cartel member being the victim. That wouldn’t be a healthy thing to do. So instead, Copernicus and Sherri opened the windows in the transport, and under the cover of night, pushed it into a lake not far from the spaceport.

In the terminal, they took turns catching some sleep waiting for the midnight jump to Vansis. The flight was only twenty minutes from liftoff to touchdown, just enough time for them to go through half a dozen plans for reacquiring the dark matter collector—and then to reject them all. They had no idea what they would be up against, so any initial plans were just speculation, even wishful thinking.

The Cartel had its own spaceport, but the commercial flight landed at the municipal facility twenty miles away. They needed another car, yet had no qualifying identification with which to rent one. So they entered a transport cab and instructed the driver to take them to the sprawling complex where the leader of the Gradis Cartel lived.

Copernicus had been there several times before, although never in the actual living quarters. At the time he was active, he had been something of a novelty—a Human working for the Cartel. As a result, he was often challenged to not-so-friendly fighting matches among the enforcers of the syndicate, testing to see if the rumors of the short, pink creatures were true. It didn’t pay for Coop to reveal too much, just enough to earn their respect. After all, he was a mechanic, not a warrior. He gave them a show and then humbly returned to his tasks.

Cartel runners often used their own ships to haul the gang’s contraband, be it drugs, guns or slaves. They didn’t earn a lot for their efforts, which often meant their spaceships weren’t very well maintained. When they broke down—and they did often—it was imperative that they be fixed quickly and discreetly. That’s where Copernicus came in. He would take any job, and keep his mouth shut. That made him a favorite of the Cartels, and not only the Gradis. There were five different gangs operating within the Kidis Frontier, but Gradis was the largest.

Frandon G’Bur was a brilliant organizer back when Copernicus knew him, but more of a behind-the-scenes guy than the bombastic, forceful leader type. However, times had changed for the cartels. When Adam and Arieel’s mutant daughter Lila took over the Expansion—and by extension, the Union—she set out a strict law-and order policy which extended even to the fringe areas of the galaxy such as the Frontier. The Juireans had once occupied the Kidis in an attempt to stage an invasion of the Union from the neighboring spur of the galaxy where the Frontier was located. Adam Cain had messed up their plans when he took a trans-dimensional starship—powered by Zee, the recently-discovered service module of the Aris—and proceeded to launch a scorched earth campaign from the Kidis all the way to the planet Juir. Union forces followed in his wake, and when he was done, the Juirean grip on the galaxy—including the Kidis—had been broken.

That’s when Lila took over and moved the capital of the galaxy to her homeworld of Formil. Being an immortal mutant genius, no one could stand against her, and for the first time in four thousand years, there was peace in the galaxy.

After the Juireans left the Kidis Frontier, there was a major effort to make the region more civilized, more organized, at least enough to join either the Expansion or the Union, or to create a third galactic empire. The influence of the cartels began to wane, or at least for their most-abhorrent criminal activities, such as slave-trading. But even budding empires needed weapons, and the cartels were the most-natural conduit for such commodities. And drugs. The truth was that people—be they Human or alien—always needed drugs.

As a consequence of the new direction the Gradis Cartel was taking, they needed more of a Chief Executive Officer rather than a Godfather. Frandon G’Bur was the natural choice.

* * *

The Humans still needed independent transportation, free of the cab driver’s scrutiny. So in a moment of weakness and desperation, Sherri came up with a plan she truly felt sorry for.

She had the transport driver drop her off, leaving Coop in the car. Copernicus then instructed the driver to continue on before having him turn around and drop him off a little ways down the road.

The driver called into his base and reported that the fare had been dropped off and then continued down the road looking for a new customer. That’s when Sherri appeared and flagged him down. He didn’t call in the stop, since he knew Sherri. Had she left something in the car? He pulled over…and that’s when she knocked him unconscious and took the transport. She sincerely hoped the driver wouldn’t get in trouble for getting his car stolen. It wasn’t his fault.

She picked up Copernicus and the pair proceeded to the Cartel headquarters to scope out the landing field and the grouping of huge, oddly-shaped buildings that made up the complex. Coop figured Frandon wouldn’t keep the dark matter collector on the ship; it was small enough to be carried into one of the buildings. And something with such value would be placed closed to the leader, just so he could gloat over it. Frandon would have the device with him.

But where was Frandon?

Before leaving the spaceport terminal, the Humans had bought a pair of huge rain coats, although it wasn’t raining. But the outfits had hoods. They also picked up a pair of binoculars, knowing they would have to survey the complex. Now Coop stood on top of the stolen cab looking over the low wall of the complex.

As mentioned, there was very little crime on Navior, and especially against Cartel members. That was also true for the organization’s headquarters. There were guards around, but not many. The syndicate’s enemies were off planet, in the form of governments and other cartels. They had very little to fear on the surface.

Even so, Sherri and Coop figured Frandon would expect them to come after the collector. It would be suicide, of course, but they were Humans after all, so nothing could be counted out. If anything, extra guards would be posted and sentries on the lookout.

“He’s in that large bubble-like building on the left,” Coop reported. “It’s the tallest, and big-shots always want the penthouse suite. The other buildings are offices or apartments.”

The apartment building was a long, six story combination of domes stacked on top of each other. Large windows, spacious balconies and manicured landscaping all made the cluster housing a nice benefit for the higher-up capos of the Cartel. Coop frowned. They never offered him a nice apartment with all utilities paid and free cable….

He hopped down from the top of the car.

“Hopefully they’re having the same trouble with their CW links as we did and haven’t cut a deal yet,” Sherri said. She looked to her left and the cartel spaceport, with the silhouettes of several starships off in the distance. “Once we get the thing, we still need a way off the planet, and chem drive will only get us so far. After that we better make sure the gravity drive is working.”

“And we won’t be able to disable any of the Cartel ships. They’ll be on us like stink on s—”

“Then maybe we should hide out on the surface, at least until we can close a deal with one of the bidders. Then we’ll have the money to get away.”

Coop smiled. “Do you realize how big a load sixty million credits would be? We’d have one hell of a time hiding that. And when we left the planet we’d have to hire an army of guards just to make sure no one steals it from us.”

“You wouldn’t have them put the credits into an account somewhere?”

“After what happened to us on Earth? Not a chance. Besides, I’ve dealt with people like this before. Real deals are always in cash. We’d only tip our hand that we’re rookies if we did otherwise.”

“I bow to your superior knowledge of back-alley deals and Cartel cutthroats. So, how are we going to get the DMC?” Sherri asked.

“I thought we could go in with guns a-blazing and kill every alien in sight.”

“Now you’re channeling Adam again. I’m tempted, but let’s try the subtle approach first.” She leaned over and gave Coop a hard, sloppy kiss. “In case we don’t make it out alive.”

“Not going to happen,” Copernicus said with a smile. “We’re the heroes; we always make it out alive.”

They spent the next hour driving around the complex before deciding their best approach would be from the spaceport. There were few guards along the way and even fewer four-wheeled carts moving between the port and the complex. It was nearing dawn, and already the sky to the east was growing lighter. This was the time when guards were tired and the new ones hadn’t started their shifts.

With the huge coats covering their bodies and dragging the ground—the garments were made for the taller Navioreans—Sherri and Copernicus hopped the wall surrounding the spaceport and ran among the silent starships, towering above them like dinosaurs in the night. There was a maintenance shack along one side of the field with an electric cart parked outside. A dim light burned within the building.

It only took Coop a second to take out the worker inside the shack. The cart didn’t need a key, and a moment later they were cruising along at the breakneck speed of eight miles per hour so as to not draw any attention.

They received no challenges as they entered the main complex and pulled up to the base of the tallest building. It was a decidedly alien structure similar to the others surrounding it, only larger and taller. This is where the leader of the galaxy’s largest criminal syndicate would live. Looking to be made of hardened polyurethane foam, it began with a grouping of twenty-one domes at ground level, and then smaller groupings stacked on top, reaching into the sky. Balconies and windows were cut within the levels all the way up. At the top was a single dome with a wrap-around terrace and wide windows.

Coop continued around the base of the building, avoiding the main entrance and the cadre of guards on duty. There were several side entrances, used by workers and for deliveries. He parked the cart within a row of others before he and Sherri headed for an open door that a native, pulling a handcart with boxes loaded on top, had just entered. No one stopped them as they followed the native into the building.

The bright light inside assailed their eyes, blinding them momentarily. The room was filled with workers, all preparing for the new day in the huge building. There was food to prepare, housekeeping to be done and maintenance to be performed. Coop saw a worker’s tool belt lying on a table and scooped it up. They stepped into a long corridor and hurried away.

Fifty feet along, they heard a group of aliens approaching down the curved hallway, talking loudly as they drew near. Coop rushed to a panel embedded in the wall, pulled out an extracting tool and removed the cover. He and Sherri buried their hooded heads inside the opening, tools in their hands, as the group of nine guards paraded by. No one questioned the maintenance crew at work in the corridor, even if they were in raincoats instead of uniforms. It was the end of the shift and the guards were going home.

Like in all tall buildings there were elevators, but the bank of doors they came to were color coded. They had no idea which one would take them to the top. Frandon would take the highest floor in the complex so he could look down upon his empire. But which elevator would take them to the penthouse?

They looked for one with a security lock but found none. There had to be an express elevator, but they had no idea of the color priority of the natives. Did green mean the same here as it did on Earth? Or was gold the universal sign for wealth and power? They studied the doors, having to duck around a corner when one opened and two aliens exited the cab.

The Gradis Cartel was made up of hundreds of different species, so the number of native Navioreans was fewer within the building as compared to other races. This helped the Humans, since their size and odd clothing fit in well with the menagerie of other creatures now walking about.

Sherri noticed an elevator door at the center of the row. Thinking how the building tapered to a point at the center of the structure, she reasoned the other elevators could go only so far before reaching the limit for that part of the building. The one in the center could go all the way up. She hurried to the door and pressed the panel.

The Humans rushed inside and were rewarded with only two buttons on the wall. The bottom button would send the elevator down, the other one up…all the way to the top. The door closed and the journey began.

They took out their MK-17s and checked the settings; level-two, good enough to kill most aliens, and full charges. They wished they had the new MK-88X model, but they were on the missing starship. Even without them, Sherri and Copernicus were ready when the door opened.

It was a long ride to the top. Fortunately, there were no stops along the way, and when the door opened, their intuition was rewarded. They were in a circular corridor with plush carpeting, walls with waves of built-in relief and strange artwork resting in various crevasses. A number of wide doors lined the corridor, leading to rooms that would reach to the outer walls of the dome. There was also an odd smell, which wasn’t unusual. All aliens had an odd smell.

Coop led the way into the corridor, with Sherri backing him up. All was quiet, too quiet. There wasn’t a guard in sight, which was unusual if Frandon was expecting them. Maybe they got here faster than he was—

The corridor suddenly went pitch black, followed by heavy footsteps on the carpeting. Coop was laid out by a heavy blow to the back of his head, while Sherri took an electric shock to the chest. Neither of them saw their attackers before falling to the soft, almost welcoming, cushion of the floor.

9

Consciousness came reluctantly to Copernicus. He remembered the room going dark and the teeth-jarring hit to the back of his skull by something hard and metallic. Now he was on his back, on a soft bed of some kind, hesitant to open his eyes knowing that the bright light penetrating his eyelids would bring even more pain to his already throbbing head.

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asked.

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

“You look beautiful, my dear.”

She flipped him off.

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

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

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

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

“So why are we still alive?”

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

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

“That I lost, too,” Sherri said.

“Of course…that we lost.”

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

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

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

“Toy?”

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

“Anything you can tell me?”

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

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

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

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

10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

11

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

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

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

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

And then Copernicus heard the voice in his head.

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

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

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

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

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

Are you and Sherri all right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

Unfortunately, Sherri and Coop went with it.

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

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

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

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

Tell her to hold on, Adam said to Coop through his ATD.

Copernicus yelled and Sherri dropped to her stomach as well, with one arm around Coop and the other around the DMC.

Adam pulled the starship away from the building, taking broken debris with it. He gunned the jets and gained altitude momentarily before leveling out and heading north, away from the Cartel complex and the city. He maintained a slow speed, aware of his two passengers on the port wing. Five minutes later he made a rough landing—his first in this spacecraft—in a field still within eyesight of the towering central building.

The landing sent Sherri and Coop sliding off the wing and to the grassy field below. Adam’s butt clinched when he saw the DMC crash to the ground. Fortunately, no giant black hole opened up, so he figured they were safe, at least for the moment. He activated a side hatch and his two friends rushed inside the starship, bringing their deadly dark matter prizes with them. Adam didn’t wait before activating the gravity drive, taking a huge scoop of Naviorean dirt with them into space. Once in the clear, he kicked in the overdrive, which would leave any pursuit in the dust. They were away from the planet, but that didn’t mean they were safe.

Sherri rushed onto the bridge and threw her arms around Adam, who was still in the pilot seat, watching for any hostiles on the threat board. There were several, coming at them from all directions. The Cartel controlled this star system and had ships scattered throughout. Nearly twenty of them, of various classifications, were now trying to box in the Gracilian ship. Despite the ship’s superior speed, it was working.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” he said to Sherri. Coop was also on the bridge. “Someone man the weapons station.”

“Where is it?” Coop asked.

“Starboard bulkhead, second console.”

Copernicus slipped into the seat at the station then raised his hands in surrender. “How do I activate it?”

“Top panel on the left. That will light it up. I practiced a little on the way here.”

“Then let’s trade places. At least I can pilot the ship.”

“Good idea.”

They ran past each other while changing stations. Copernicus was an excellent pilot and he understood flight controls. The weapons panel of a strange starship wasn’t something you learned on the job. Adam had the flash cannon charging a moment later, tied into the threat board. Ships were being targeted—lots of them—just as Adam’s single ship was being locked onto by eighteen other vessels. Eighteen-to-one odds. In a fist fight, Adam wasn’t worried. In a space battle, he was.

“We can’t out fight them,” he said. “Time to do some fancy flying, Mr. Smith.”

“So why did we change places?”

“I’ll give us some room, but it’s going to be up to you to get us out of here.”

The circle of hostile starships around them prevented a deep gravity well from forming. If they did, they could smash into a ship or suck it into a thin well that would send debris blasting into their path. They would have to work their way into the clear first before engaging the full drive. The ship was still fast and more maneuverable than their competition, but would it be enough?

Five flash cannon barrages erupted from the Cartel ships, roiling through space in a wide spread. Coop twisted the ship in a corkscrew maneuver, sliding between two bolts, both of which scraped against the top and bottom diffusion shields. The oblique hits were easily absorbed.

Adam then sent out a barrage of his own. The Gracilian ship was fast, but not exceptionally well-armed. The aliens were scientists, not warriors, so they saw no need for advanced weaponry. Still, Adam managed a couple of direct hits, both of which were also absorbed by the Cartel screens. The Cartel had a lot of ships, but they weren’t warships. They ran guns and slaves, and seldom engaged in space battles of any kind. This wasn’t to say they couldn’t take out Adam’s ship. They certainly could, and if they didn’t get to clear space soon, that was about to happen.

The aft shield lit up from two direct hits. That was it for the panel, and when another five bolts contacted other diffusion screens, Adam was sitting with a third of his defenses down, with Coop having to angle the ship toward incoming bolts just so they would hit charged screens and not vulnerable hull metal.

Adam was firing nearly non-stop. Three of the Cartel ships had been destroyed and two damaged to the point where they were out of the battle. That still left thirteen healthy ships against his one crippled vessel.

Adam was about to signal their surrender when an echo sounded in his head.

Yippee-ki-ay, mother fu—

Riyad…is that you?

And who else would be coming to rescue your sorry ass?

The voice in his head was a godsend, and within seconds he saw the first blasts from the elongated, black-hulled starship coming out of their twelve o’clock. And Riyad wasn’t alone. There was a second ship on his left flank.

Adam recognized the signature of the ships immediately. They were ancient Marauder class warships commonly used by the pirates of the Fringe. Riyad once commanded the rag-tag fleet of space raiders; it looked like he’d picked up where he’d left off.

We were in the neighborhood and thought we’d drop by. I have Angar in the other ship.

Welcome, both of you. But really, how did you know?

Riyad didn’t answer until he and the second pirate ship had demolished another five Cartel ships and sent the others scurrying away in all directions. Then he positioned his two ships to either side of Adam’s.

I got a call from Kaylor. He said he couldn’t get here in time and asked if there was anything I could do. Who was I to let a friend down in his time of need?

Your timing couldn’t have been better, Adam thought. But we can’t stay here for long. The Cartel can bring in even more ships. Rendezvous at one-point-eight-oh, grid seven. Now break away and dip into some deep wells.

Still giving orders, aren’t you? Well aye, aye, Sir Cain, sir.

Asshole.

That I am.

12

The three starships met up about half a light-year outside the Navior system. They powered down to minimums to keep from being spotted by any Cartel craft out looking for them. Riyad fastened an umbilical crossover tube to Adam’s ship, while Angar came over in a small, one-person transfer pod.

Adam hadn’t seen Riyad for a year, not since he stormed off the planet Earth in a huff after learning all his money was gone. There was also talk he might be charged with some twenty-five-year-old terrorist activities he was involved in back in his old life. Adam had to admit, their homeworld was fast becoming a very inhospitable place for him and his team.

The two old friends hugged and laughed, while the Nimorian Angar stood back looking relaxed and confident. The alien had once been the second-in-command of the sixty-ship-strong Fringe Pirates, just one position below their diabolical leader, Riyad Tarazi. When Riyad ran off to join Adam’s merry band of rebels, the alien took over and had led the group ever since. Adam greeted him warmly. Although they didn’t know each other well, they had crossed paths several times throughout the years. Adam noticed a silent strength about the husky, hairy alien he hadn’t noticed before. It had to be from age. Like the rest of them, Angar was older and wiser. He also knew Humans better and wasn’t intimidated by them like he had been in the past.

“So what are you doing here?” Adam asked.

Riyad flashed his trademark white smiled, enhanced by his dark, olive-oil skin. “Broke and desperate, I returned to the Fringe and looked up my old friend Angar. He was still operating a small fleet of raiders, but times were tough.”

“When the Klin destroyed the population of Silea, it put an end to commerce in the Fringe,” Angar went on to explain. “I only had five ships when General Tarazi showed up. Three of the captains decided to stay in the Fringe, while Riyad and I sought more profitable ventures in the Kidis Frontier. It is larger than the Fringe and still wild to a degree. We have been hunting vulnerable vessels for half a standard year.”

“And we’re glad you have been,” Adam said, placing a hand on the Nimorian’s shoulder. He turned to Riyad. “Did Kaylor say how far away he is?”

“Another two days. We’ll send him our coordinates when the reunion is over.”

The reunion—as it were—was brief, cut short when Copernicus and Sherri insisted on changing the subject.

“Yeah, great to see you too,” Sherri said impatiently. “But look what we have!”

Copernicus waved a hand at the grid-covered dark matter collector and the satchel holding the containers of gray cubes. “These things are worth over a hundred million credits,” he proclaimed proudly. He wasn’t afraid any of his friends would try to muscle in on his action; he was already going to share some of the money with them for the rescue.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when neither Adam nor Riyad appeared impressed.

Adam’s expression questioned Riyad’s reaction. “Kaylor told me,” he said.

Adam nodded.

“Told you what?”

Adam stepped up to the innocuous-looking alien device. “You can’t sell it, Coop, it’s too dangerous.”

“What!” said Sherri and Coop in unison. “You can’t be serious,” Sherri continued. “We’ve almost died several times just to keep hold of these things. I have no idea what you’re talking about…too dangerous?”

“It’s true,” Adam said. “I came out here looking for you, to save you. Do you have any idea what you have?”

“We know exactly what we have,” Copernicus growled. “It’s a dark matter collector that will revolutionize power production in the galaxy. Everyone wants it…and we have it. Hell, I was even going to offer you a piece of the pie for saving us, but right now, I’m not so sure.”

“Why are you doing this, Adam?” Sherri asked, her voice pleading.

“That’s right?” Coop said. “And what the hell are you doing out here anyway? This has nothing to do with you…or you either, Riyad.”

Adam sat down on a couch and crossed his legs. “I was hired by the Gracilians to recover the unit—”

“From us!” Sherri cried out. “From your friends.”

“That’s right. But the aliens gave me information you obviously don’t have. Dark matter is extremely dangerous. Just one of the cubes you have—if breached—could destroy everything within a half mile radius. And the amount of material in the collector can create a singularity large enough to impact a tenth of the galaxy.”

“Bullshit, Cain,” said Copernicus. “You’re just saying that…so you can keep it for yourself.”

“I’m serious, Coop.”

“And so what if it’s dangerous? Every power source is dangerous. We’ll let the buyers figure out how to make it safe. That’s not our job. The Gracilians were going to keep it for themselves. We’re giving it to the people of the galaxy.”

“For a hundred million credits,” Riyad chimed in.

Copernicus looked like he wanted to rip Riyad’s head off his shoulders. “That’s right, Tarazi. Hell, you’re a good one to talk about morality. You just admitted you and your alien friend have been out in the Frontier stalking innocent cargo ships. But I supposed that’s okay…if you do it.”

“Adam, we’re going to sell the collector and that’s it,” Sherri stated defiantly. “Don’t try to stop us.” Her voice was a trembling mess.

Adam remained silent, letting the news sink in.

Sherri wasn’t giving up. “Coop is right. Every technology has its risks. Fusion reactors are extremely dangerous, yet they’re now the size of a refrigerator and nearly every building and neighborhood has one. You even have one on this ship. MK and Fazon will find a way to make the dark matter safe. They’ll have to if they want a viable product that people will buy.”

“That’s right,” Coop said. “You’re just being paranoid.”

“Did you ever wonder why the Gracilians didn’t accept any of the offers they received?” Adam asked. “They weren’t being greedy, as you thought. It’s because they know how dangerous the stuff is. And just think, there will be people who will turn this technology into a weapon—the ultimate weapon. Instant black holes. How do you defend against a black hole?”

“We make black holes all the time,” Sherri countered. “And yes, they can be used as weapons—you’ve done it yourself. But they’re too valuable of a tool not to take the risk. It will be the same with dark matter.”

Adam pursed his lips. “You’re probably right, but are you willing to take that risk?”

“Hell yeah!” Coop shouted. “For a hundred million credits I’ll accept a lot of risk. Sherri and I took that risk when we stole the collector; we’re doing it now.”

“And you’re willing to risk the rest of the galaxy?”

It was Sherri’s turn to take up the argument. “Fuck the galaxy! What has it ever done for us? We’ve risked our lives for years only to get shit upon, not only by the galaxy, but our own people. We’re all out here trying to rebuild lives, lives that were taken from us against our will. None of us asked for this to happen, now or twenty years ago. But here we have a chance to make a fortune, and your high morals say no. Even if what you say is true, we could still live out pretty comfortable lives with a hundred million credits for the time we have left.”

Adam laughed. Their arguments made sense. And they were right; he didn’t owe the galaxy anything. Conversely, he and his team were owed a lot.

He shook his head. Still, it was too much. “You realize that if you sell this technology to Maris-Kliss, every flash weapon will become a ticking time bomb? What if a nano-pair of particles was able to meet somehow? Whole city blocks would disappear. Thousands of people would die. And imagine trillions of these tiny black hole bombs spread across the galaxy.”

“Hypothetical bullshit,” Coop said.

“Look at the collector, Smith!” Adam said. “It’s still producing cubes using material…from where, just from what it has inside? When that runs out and the collector stops producing cubes, do you think the companies will just say oh well, it was good while it lasted? No, they’ll reverse engineer the device and start collecting dark matter in quantity, and using their own containment methods.” Adam threw up his hands. “You know me; I’ll do just about anything for a buck, but this is too much. We have to do the right thing.”

“And the right thing is giving the collector back to the Gracilians?” Sherri asked. “They’ll just keep working on the thing until they either figure out a way to mass produce the particles…or destroy us all.”

“That’s why we’re not going to give it back to them.”

“What are you talking about?” Sherri asked, dumbfounded.

“It’s too dangerous for even the Gracilians to have—”

“Wait a minute,” Coop said. “We haven’t decided shit. Besides, it’s not your decision to make.”

“You’re right,” Adam said. “We all have to agree. Take some time to think it through.”

“And then what, we just destroy it?” Sherri asked.

Adam shook his head again. “We can’t do that, either. There are sixty cubes in the collector. If they rupture, that would be it, the end of everything.”

“At least then we wouldn’t have to worry about all the money we don’t have,” Coop grunted, exhausted from the debate and sounding defeated.

“If we can’t destroy it, then what do we do with it?” Riyad asked. Adam felt he was on his side, but the question was valid.

“We have to take it someplace where it won’t be a danger to us.”

“But to other people?”

“That will be their problem; right now, one thing at a time.”

13

Meals were prepared and eaten mostly in silence. The team had a decision to make and it wasn’t going to be easy either way. About the only person above the fray was the Nimorian Angar. A few of the team asked his opinion and he just shrugged, saying the decision was theirs.

Exhausted, Sherri, Copernicus and Adam retired to staterooms to get some rest. Riyad returned to his ship through the pressured umbilical tunnel and Angar slept on a couch in the common room rather than take his little pod back to his ship.

A few hours later, Adam was awoken by an incoming CW link. He’d routed the alert to his stateroom and now staggered onto the bridge. He fought the veils of exhaustion while slipping onto the seat at the CW comm station.

The message was from Jym on the Colony Ship.

“Adam, a force of spacecraft has taken up positions surrounding the station,” he reported in a panic.

Adam was expecting this. “Relax, Jym. The buyers for the dark matter collector have decided to take a more active role in acquiring the device. They feel the negotiations are dead and it’s best just to take the damn thing. They’ve traced the ship that rescued Sherri and Copernicus to me. I was expecting them to show up.”

“You were? And what am I supposed to do? I can’t hold off a force such as this alone, even if the station was fully powered.”

“They won’t attack. They’re waiting for me to return with the device. We’re not going to, so you’ll be safe.”

“You’re not returning to the station?”

“Not until we’ve disposed of the dark matter collector.”

“Are you not going to return it to the Gracilians? What of the other half-million credits they owe us?”

“The technology is too dangerous, Jym. You heard what they said.”

“But they will keep it safe.”

“Not when the most-powerful organizations in the galaxy are after it. Eventually someone will get it. After that, who knows?”

“Who knows what?”

“Who knows what will happen.”

“But we can keep the credits already given?”

“They’re non-refundable, so yeah.” Adam yawned. “I’m going back to bed now. Keep me informed. I don’t want Maris-Kliss or any of the others to get the bright idea to hold the Colony Ship hostage for the collector.”

“No, that would not be welcome.”

Adam cut the link. He sat staring at the screen in a groggy haze. This assignment had become way too complicated for his liking, even for the money. Why couldn’t it have been a simple recover job? Instead….

He noticed a small flashing light on the console, indicating a recorded message. It hadn’t come from the outside; that would have shown up in the CW cue. He pushed the play button.

Angar’s serious face appeared; Adam thought he was in the common room. Why leave a message? The recording began.

“This message is for Riyad Tarazi, the self-proclaimed general of the Fringe Pirates from the past. Please retrieve him before proceeding with this message.”

Adam left the bridge to search for the Nimorian to ask him about the recording. He wasn’t in the common room or anywhere else he searched, and his pod was gone from the landing bay. This didn’t feel right. Adam returned to the bridge to play the rest of the message, in spite of Angar’s request that Riyad be present.

“I have spent many a standard year tolerating the obstinate and condescending nature of your relationship with me and the pirates. Even now, you reappear and assume control of my fleet as if no time has passed. Yes, you are a savage Human and as such many of my crew and others have acquiesced to your demands. But no more. I am severing my ties with you, Riyad, and in a most-dramatic fashion. I have evacuated my pirates from your ship and placed a bomb aboard. The explosion will destroy not only you, but Adam Cain as well. Do not attempt to run. Through use of a double trigger system, the timer has already begun. The first was when you entered Cain’s ship; the second trigger is now, at this point in the recording. You have twenty seconds to live. And one other thing, I have taken the dark matter collector and will sell it to Maris-Kliss. Riyad Tarazi, your defeat is now complete.”

The screen went blank.

Adam panicked, rushing to the pilot’s seat to begin powering up the ship. They were in dark status, so it would take at least three minutes to get the chemical engines on line and ready to carry them away.

But then it dawned on him. The twenty seconds had already past…and no explosion.

The triggers! Both hadn’t been tripped.

The first trigger would be Riyad coming to Adam’s ship; the second the recording. Riyad was still aboard his ship, so the triggering sequences had been reversed. The twenty seconds wouldn’t start until Riyad entered his ship.

Adam hoped Riyad was a sound sleeper and not wandering the corridors, looking to pay his old friend Adam a visit.

He let the power-up sequence continue. There may be a way out of this.

Adam nearly jumped out of his skin when Copernicus appeared at the door to the bridge, dressed only in boxer shorts and running a hand through his bed-head hair.

“I heard the generators revving up. What’s going on?”

“Don’t panic, but Angar placed a bomb on Riyad’s ship. He’s also taken the dark matter collector.”

Coop was instantly awake. “Don’t panic? What the hell are you talking about? This is the perfect time to panic. That fucking alien bastard! I’ll rip him apart—”

“First things first. Wake up Sherri. We need to get Riyad off his ship before it blows.”

“How long do we have?”

“There’s a trigger set to trip when Riyad crosses over. After that we’ll have twenty seconds to get away.”

Copernicus was silent for a moment as he worked the scenario through in his head. “And you’re going to let Riyad trip it? Why not just say sorry about your luck and call it a day? We could be gone in about a minute from now without ever triggering the bomb.”

Adam frowned. He knew Copernicus was cold-blooded, but damn. Would he have made the same suggestion if it were Adam on the other ship? He already knew the answer: Of course he would.

“You’re not serious, right?” Adam asked.

Coop shook his head. “Not really, just looking for options. I’ll go wake up Sherri.”

* * *

Sherri—like both Coop and Adam—showed up on the bridge dressed only in her underwear. Her eyes were wide with fright.

“Can we do this? Why hasn’t the bomb gone off?”

“I played the video before Riyad set off the first trigger. Lucky I did. But now we have to be in position to recover Riyad, dog the hatch and then sprint out of here, all in twenty seconds.”

Sherri looked at the power meter. The ship was almost fully charged and ready to go. Adam had the chemical pressure building so when the jets lit off they would get a major boost. All they needed now was Riyad.

“You two get to the airlock. As soon as Riyad is in, close the hatch and let me know. I’m going to wake him up now.”

Using his ADT, Adam contacted Riyad’s brain-interface device. He thought as powerfully as he could, essentially yelling into Riyad’s mind.

What the hell? Riyad thought. That’s rude, even for you, asshole.

Listen up, Riyad, we have a situation. Adam could sense Riyad’s attention being focused completely on the mental conversation. Angar has placed a bomb aboard your ship. A twenty-second timer will activate as soon as you cross the umbilical. I have my ship powered up and ready to go, but you’re going to have to get across as fast as you can.

Understood. I’ll cut the gravity here. Then I’ll push off and fly across. That might be fastest.

I’ll cut the internals here, too. That way you can fly all the way. Activate the inner and outer doors with your ATD in case the trigger is in the airlock.

The doors won’t trigger the timer?

I doubt it. Angar wanted you to see a video before the bomb goes off. He would want to make sure you crossed over and not simply opened the doors.

A video?

If we survive, I’ll show it to you. It’s classic betrayal, you’ll love it. But right now, get in position. Sherri and Coop are on the other side waiting for you. It’s going to be a mad dash after you’ve made it over.

Roger that. I’ll stay in touch.

“I’m cutting the internals,” Adam announced to those in the airlock. “Riyad is getting ready. He’s going to fly over in zero G.”

“The hatch is open and we’re ready. We can see the outer airlock door opening on his side.”

I’m ready. Riyad said within Adam’s mind. Going in three.

“He’s coming. Get ready.”

Riyad was floating halfway up a wall, holding onto a rail with his legs coiled.

Three, two, one…go!

He pushed off, flying like Superman through the airlock and into the umbilical tunnel connecting the two ships. It was forty feet long, and he passed through half of it without a problem. But his aim was slightly off, and without any way of controlling his flight, he scraped against the plastic side of the tube, spinning around and slowing down.

There were small handholds along the inner surface and Riyad struggled to grab hold of them and propel his body forward again. Coop saw he was having trouble and jumped into the tunnel, using the grips like a jungle-gym until he reached his stranded friend. He took hold of Riyad with one hand and pulled a ring with the other. Both men began to move toward Sherri and the open airlock door.

She helped pull both of them in the rest of the way. A split second later the hatch was closed and the long locking lever dogged down.

“They’re in!” she yelled. “Go.”

Adam pressed the button igniting the chemical drive and the Gracilian ship took off, putting distance between them and the pirate vessel.

But they weren’t.

Adam nearly fainted when he looked at an external monitor and saw that the umbilical tube was still intact and pulling Riyad’s bomb-laden ship along with them. He twisted the course of the ship, angling it so that the rear exhaust was aimed at the pirate Marauder. Finally the connection broke. A moment later Riyad’s ship exploded.

They were only twenty miles away at the time, but it was far enough. The bomb wasn’t very powerful, just enough to destroy two ships linked only feet apart. Adam cut the chemical drive and let the spacecraft coast along at eighteen thousand miles per hour.

Riyad appeared on the bridge, feeling right at home dressed only in a pair of European-style briefs. The four Humans displayed no embarrassment with their attire—or lack of. They were just lucky to be alive.

“You say Angar did this?” Riyad asked breathlessly, his anger boiling over.

“That’s right,” Adam said. “He doesn’t like you very much; hasn’t for a long time.”

“I know that,” Riyad barked back. “That’s how you maintain discipline in a pirate outfit. You lead by intimidation.”

“Until the time your second-in-command places a bomb under your bed,” Coop commented. “And now your ex-friend has also taken the dark matter collector. He intends to sell it and take our money.” Copernicus looked at Adam. “Whether it’s a danger or not, that little hairy rodent is going to turn it over to some big ass company. After that, it will be gone forever.”

Adam had to think. Everything had happened in such a panic that he hadn’t had time to work out his next move. Then it dawned on him.

“Angar probably stuck around to see if his bomb went off. Seeing that it did, he has to think were dead. Riyad, what will he do now?”

“He’ll contact someone—”

“He mentioned Maris-Kliss in his video.”

“Okay, he’ll contact MK and make a deal. He’ll want the money in cash, since bank accounts can be seized, hacked or money called back—we have first-hand knowledge of that—and especially when you’re dealing with something as big as Maris.”

“Yeah, they tried to screw us over,” Sherri confirmed. “They’re real rat-bastards.”

Riyad nodded. “Then he’ll agree to a transfer. He won’t do it in space; too great a chance MK will just swoop in and take the collector. He’ll need safe ground, someplace where he can control the setting and where he has friends.”

“Where is that?” Sherri asked. “Do the two of you have a base somewhere in the Frontier?”

“Not a base so much as a place where we sell most of our contraband. You’re familiar with it…Woken.”

The planet Woken was the unofficial capital of the Kidis Frontier, the first major world visitors came to when entering the spur of the galaxy. It was a Wild West type of place with its own set of rules. Pirates felt right at home on Woken.

“Cool,” Adam said. “This ship is a lot faster than a Marauder, so we can get there before him. Then we lay-in-wait until he shows up. I’ll contact Kaylor and have him meet us just outside the system.”

Adam stood up. “But first, I say we all change into something a little more appropriate for heroes setting out on a mission of galactic importance.”

Riyad—Sherri’s former husband…briefly—was eying her panties and bra with lurid approval. “I kinda like the uniform-of-the-day just as it is.”

“You would, pervert,” Sherri said, brushing by him a little too close on her way off the bridge.

Coop leaned over and tapped Riyad on his bare, hairy chest. “You had your chance, buddy.”

Riyad flashed a brilliant smile at the starship repairman, before winking at Adam. “We all have…pal.”

14

It took four days to make the trip to the Woken star system. Kaylor had shot past the planet on his way to meet Adam, but not by much. He turned around and was waiting in the Klin saucer a quarter-light outside the outer-most boundary of the system. He transferred over to the Gracilian ship, which Adam had subsequently named the Orion, not after the Orion-Cygnus Union, but after the constellation Orion: The Hunter. With his current occupation, he felt it appropriate.

During the transit, the Humans had time to plan more details for their mission—and they would need Kaylor to make it work. Humans were well-known throughout the galaxy; however their reputation was that of badass warriors, a danger to all who came in contact with them. There were undoubtedly more Humans on the planet, but to have four of them wandering around the area where most contraband was processed would draw attention, with word possibly filtering back to Angar and his pirates.

But Kaylor was a blue-skinned Belsonian. His race had been part of the Expansion for over two thousand years. They were common on other worlds, and more importantly, no one feared them. They could come and go as they pleased.

Adam would need Kaylor to scope out the building Riyad said would be the most-likely location for Angar to consummate the transaction. It was adjacent to a small landing field were ships with questionable cargo would land and offload their treasures. The building was where the fences and middlemen worked, buying illicitly-gained items for pennies on the dollar, and then moving them to other parts of the Frontier for resale—and profit. For the past six months Riyad and Angar had frequented the spaceport and the neighboring buildings often. They knew people there and were trusted among the natives and others who called Woken home.

Maybe Adam was being overly cautious, seeing that Angar probably thought they were dead and therefore wouldn’t be on the lookout. But there were other enemies to consider. The losing buyers would be out to steal the collector. And if word got out about how much cash was about to change hands, all bets were off. Half the planet of outlaws and scoundrels would be all over the place in a hot minute. And then there was Maris-Kliss themselves. They were the largest private organization in the galaxy. You grew that big and powerful when over ninety-percent of all hand-held weapons are made in your factories. The Expansion alone boasted eight-thousand member worlds. It had once been estimated that there was an average of three MK weapons for every civilized being in the galaxy. That was a huge number, with almost too many zeros to count.

And Maris-Kliss hadn’t grown as big as they were by playing nice…with anyone. They usually took what they wanted when they wanted it. And already the negotiations for the dark matter collector had frustrated and confounded the company officials involved. Before Angar contacted MK to finalize the sale, they—along with others—had sent ships to wait at Adam’s Klin space station. They were through playing games. If they couldn’t buy the collector, then someone would simply take it.

So Angar would be cautious. He was dealing with a whole other level of business-being, one that would squash him like a bug if they felt like it.

The plan called for the team to take the Orion to Woken and land at a small commercial spaceport on the other side of the city of Limpan-jen. It was about ten miles from the private field where Angar would land. Coop would stay with the ship and be ready to pick up the rest of the team once they had the collector. Adam, Riyad and Sherri would make their way to the roof of the building and wait for the Nimorian’s arrival. Kaylor would be in the building and track Angar to the meeting area. At this point, Kaylor would have to be careful; Angar knew him, having run across him and Jym several times within the Fringe worlds.

The Humans heading into the community would wear hooded clothing to remain unnoticed, with an ample supply of flash weapons concealed under their cloaks. It was a good plan, yet one that would undoubtedly involve a lot of shooting. Angar had a crew of thirty pirates—his crew, plus the few that had been on Riyad’s ship. Riyad had the bare minimum aboard, since most of them didn’t want to serve under him directly.

Riyad knew the maximum speed of a pirate ship, so he calculated the approximate time it would take Angar to reach Woken. The team left for the building, taking a hired transport from the commercial port to the seedy part of town where the pirates hung out. And these weren’t just Angar’s pirates. There were at least fifteen major groups operating in this part of the Frontier, along with dozens of one-ship freelancers who picked up a little contraband here and there. It was a fragile existence for the pirates, both in this part of Limpan-jen, as well as for the lifespan of a space raider. The truth was, most pirates weren’t killed by law enforcement, but rather by other pirates or mercenaries hired by the major haulers to protect their cargos.

The team reached the building without incident, although the transport driver demanded twice the fare when he learned the destination. After dropping off the four mysterious passengers near the walls of the spaceport, he made a hasty retreat back to the safer neighborhoods of Limpan-jen.

Their target building was one of four in a cluster, with a large courtyard in the center, bordering the main thoroughfare that skirted the edge of the spaceport. At one time, the complex was probably stylish and sophisticated, attracting an upscale tenant clientele. Not any longer. Ugly black streaks of mold covered the exterior of the buildings, and most of the windows had been boarded over rather than the glass replaced when they broke. And the courtyard, that was just a small park of dirt and weeds. Occasionally someone would cut back the overgrowth, not for aesthetics, but so they could move between buildings without having to go outside the complex. Beyond this quad cluster were row upon row of barely standing warehouses. There were guards posted throughout the district to keep the goods inside from being stolen. It was cheaper to hire guards than it was to fix the broken locks on the doors.

Several groups of homeless aliens eyed the obviously healthy and well-fed newcomers as they came down the street. That meant they had money. Adam didn’t detect any energy weapons within the groups; any they may have had in the past had been sold long ago for food and drugs. No matter where one went in the galaxy, some things never changed.

The team stared down a few potential conflicts with the aliens. Just being aware of your surroundings was often a deterrent to violence. They made it around the corner of one of the buildings and found a series of drainpipes still fastened to the side. The Humans climbed to the roof, leaving Kaylor on the ground, in contact with them through his ATD.

Almost two years ago, the entire team had been fitted with the brain-interface devices as they set out to stop the Klin from taking over the galaxy. The devices were made by the Formilians, yet in very small quantities. At the time, the aliens had raised a real stink over having so many outsiders with the units. But Adam and Arieel had more influence back then. Since then, only Sherri had had her ATD damaged to the point where it no longer worked. Everyone else—including Jym back at the Colony Ship—was outfitted with the limited-range telepathy device.

Kaylor entered the building and went through security, telling the guards he was to meet with an associate of Angar’s. He had to explain that the pirate and his crew would be landing soon, and that he preferred to wait inside the building than out. The guards understood and pointed him to a thin-cushioned, threadbare seat. There was a small food and beverage processor along one wall. It wasn’t safe for the people who worked in the buildings to go out for food during the day, so most everything was self-contained within the structures, including a small hotel for visiting dignitaries. Of course, true dignitaries stayed in other parts of the city and only traveled here for brief business meetings, and often under heavy guard. They didn’t remain any longer than was necessary.

Adam, Riyad and Sherri took up positions at the west side of the roof where they could survey the landing field across the street. When the Nimorian’s distinctive spaceship arrived they would know. Until then, they hunkered down against a cold wind and light drizzle, drinking hot coffee from insulated containers and munching on light snacks to keep their energy up. The pirate captain should be along within the next couple of hours.

Six hours later they were still waiting.

15

The Maris-Kliss ship was huge, shiny and new. It also dwarfed Angar’s ship by a factor of ten. His pirate crew was nervously watching it move to within a mile of the Marauder. Angar did his best to reassure them that they had nothing to fear. The coming meeting was only to confirm to the MK reps that he indeed had the dark matter collector. He had revealed the incredible bounty for the device and what each pirate would receive. That had steeled their nerves at first. But seeing the incredible firepower of the MK ship now aimed at them, most were having second thoughts.

The MK officials transferred over in one of the fanciest shuttlecraft any of the pirates had ever seen. It was sleek, all white and with almost sensual lines. When the hatch slid open, it did so with absolute silence. The two company dignitaries stepped through the opened and wrinkled their noses at the obnoxious smell of the pirate vessel. Being an interstellar conglomerate, the aliens were of two different species, a Tennean and a Hax, and each dressed in matching white suits. They came without guards or other entourage, confident in their safety while aboard the pirate ship.

Angar met the reps in a small storage cabin off the landing bay that had been cleaned out and made into a conference room. He greeted the aliens, who did not offer their names; Angar wasn’t important enough to know.

“You have insisted upon this meeting, which is acceptable and wise,” Angar began.

“Of course, but no pleasantries. Do you have the dark matter device?”

“Yes I do, yet as you suspect, it is not aboard this ship. That would be unwise.”

“So you do not have it?”

“I do, and for proof, I present you with this.” Angar removed one of the small grey containment cubes from a box and placed it on the table. The MK beings knew what it was. One took a datapad from the pocket of his immaculately-tailored garment.

“We have a way of testing the validity of your claim,” the unnamed two-armed alien said.

“Permission,” Angar said as he leaned back, confident in the results.

The alien worked the pad, sweeping it over the cube several times and then working the tabs on the computer.

“That cube is for you to keep, as good faith for our future transaction.”

“We have others, but will accept your offer. And what of the Humans? We understand Adam Cain was involved in the rescue of the others from the Cartel. What is their status?”

“As I said in the CW link, all are dead.”

“Verified?”

“Yes. I placed an explosive aboard one of a vessels that destroyed both ships involved. I personally witnessed the explosion. Adam Cain is dead.”

The aliens appeared skeptical. “That is good news, if true. For the moment we will operate on that assumption yet remain cautious.”

“Is the cube to your satisfaction?” Angar asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you have the credits?”

“Yes. They will be delivered to Woken as you requested.”

“Then we shall proceed to the planet and the exchange. Please leave the area by deep well. We will meet you on Woken in nine standard hours.”

Stern faced, the Maris-Kliss reps took the cube and left Angar’s ship. Once the larger vessel was gone, Angar sent a shuttle out to recover the small cargo pod floating a quarter-light out from his ship that contained the dark matter collector and the rest of the cubes.

He set off for Woken after the brief delay.

16

Adam was getting worried, and he was taking it out on Riyad.

“He’s not coming. He must have made other plans.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Riyad said in his defense. “We don’t have any other contacts in the Frontier; we haven’t been here long enough. He has to come here.”

“Maybe he did make the exchange in space after all,” Sherri said, the cold and wet helping to place her squarely on Adam’s side of the debate. The sooner they called off the mission, the sooner she could return to the Orion and dry clothes.

Riyad shook his head. “I know him. He’s cautious to a fault.”

“However, you didn’t see him stabbing you in the back,” Sherri pointed out. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think.”

Kaylor had already left the building a couple of times, as he began to draw too much attention sitting in the lobby waiting for someone who never showed up. He went to the other buildings to mix things up, but after nine hours he’d exhausted all his options. He apologized to the guards, saying his meeting partner was late, but that he had to remain. He would show up eventually. The guards were beginning to think Kaylor was one of the homeless, and simply pulling a scam on them as a way to stay out of the cold and rain. He had to show them a decent stack of Juirean credits to prove he was otherwise. He eventually had to tip them to let him stay.

On the roof, Sherri stood up, catching a blast of bitter wind on her cheek. She pulled the hood closer to her face. “I’m calling it quits. Thanks, Riyad, looks like we’ve just lost the biggest score of the century.”

“And not to mention the most-deadly weapon in the galaxy,” Adam added.

“Hey, if I hadn’t shown up, you’d both be dead by—”

The sound of a spacecraft dropping through the thick cloud cover above caught their attention. Sherri ducked back down and took out a pair of computerized binoculars. Both Adam and Riyad already had theirs aimed into the sky.

It was a black-hulled Marauder—Angar’s ship.

“I told you,” Riyad said. There wasn’t much boast in his voice, but a whole lot of relief.

Kaylor, Adam called out through his ATD. Angar is landing. We’ll let you know when he reaches the building. Be careful that he doesn’t see you.

Understood.

* * *

It took Angar fifteen minutes after landing to leave his ship. A small caravan of four transports pulled up to the cargo bay. Adam couldn’t get a good view of the ship; it was only visible through openings between other ships parked on the field. But after a few minutes, the transports pulled away. Through the windows, the Humans could see several pirates filling three of the transports, with Angar alone in the back of the fourth. It was a lot of security if he didn’t have the collector with him.

The drive from the spaceport to the cluster of buildings only took five minutes. Adam checked his weapon for the tenth time. Everything was ready. Once Kaylor found where Angar was in the building, they would move.

Then there came another loud roar and vibration from above, strong enough to rattle the building and everything around it. Something big was coming down through the black clouds, made even darker now by the approach of nightfall. Adam and his team watched in wonder as a large starship broke the cloud cover; a beautiful ship, shiny and new. It was so rare to see anything that even looked new this far out in the galaxy. Most vessels were twenty years old or more. Starships were expensive, so they were kept in service as long as possible.

“It’s MK,” Sherri reported. “I’ve seen that ship before, or one just like it.”

The ship landed in the south section of the field, barely fitting between the wall parallel to the outside road and the end of the landing port. Angar’s pirate vessel—as well as all the others on the field—looked tiny by comparison.

As soon as the landing smoke cleared, a back panel on the ship rolled away revealing a large cargo bay. An alien truck pulled up and was quickly surrounded by upwards of fifty armed guards from the starship. Others from inside began to move identical crates from the ship to the truck.

“You don’t think that’s what I think it is?” Sherri asked.

“The money,” Riyad said with awe.

“Over a hundred million credits….” Sherri’s voice trailed off.

Adam watched mesmerized as the boxes were moved from the MK ship. They seemed to just keep coming. He had to admit, he had no idea how many crates it would take to hold over one hundred million Juirean credits; he laughed, thinking it would take a lot if Angar wanted them all in small, unmarked bills—plastic chips, in this case.

As he looked down at the rapidly loading truck, he let out a sigh. “Only if….”

Then the plan formed in his mind, almost instantly and with detail.

“Let’s get it,” he said to the others. The excitement on their wet faces matched that of his own. They were thinking the same thing.

“Listen up. We still need the collector, but I think there’s a way we can get both the DMC and the money and make it look like Angar double-crossed MK.”

Riyad was ahead of him. “You’ll need to make it look like Angar’s crew took the money.” He smiled. “You’ll need uniforms from his ship.”

“You guys have uniforms?” Sherri asked. “But you’re pirates.”

“Angar and I didn’t wear them, but the crew does. It comes in handy during boarding parties so friendlies don’t get shot. You’ll have to get in the ship first.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Adam asked.

“No, you and Sherri go. I’ll get Kaylor and go after the collector. Besides, I owe Angar a personal visit. Can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees my handsome mug.”

“Sounds good,” Adam said. “Stay in touch through your ATD…and be careful.

“Careful is my middle name.”

“I thought it was dickhead?” Adam said.

“That’s my other middle name. Now…let’s go make a fortune.”

“Roger that, dickhead.”

17

Sherri and Adam slipped down the outside of the building while Riyad gained entry through a once-locked door on the roof. Alien doors seldom stayed locked with Humans around.

The rain had let up, but it was getting darker. From the thick cloud cover, night came early on this part of Woken. Adam and Sherri ran across the nearly deserted street to the wall of the spaceport and followed it to an opening south of the buildings. There was a guard on duty but he paid them no attention, entranced by the bluish glow of a monitor inside his warm and dry security shack. Angar’s ship was to the west, near the edge of the landing field. The spaceport wasn’t normally this crowded, but with the pirate ship and the MK vessel, there was little room left for anything else. Adam was sure neither party would be hanging around long after their business was concluded.

The Marauder was a hundred yards long by half that wide and stood sixty feet into the air. It had very few exterior features except for the bridge viewport, a pair of additional portholes along each side, seams for hatches and landing bays and a short fin in the back holding various sensors. The focusing rings for the gravity drive were located in a compartment below the bridge and the dual engine rooms were just forward of the landing bay and cargo hold. Adam could see the round covers for several flash cannon dotting the surface, closed now when not in use.

Through his ATD he was able to detect hundreds of flash weapons inside the ship. Most were in the aft section, in the armory. But there were twelve clustered amidships, with some changing position as the armed crew moved about the ship.

Sherri and Adam took out there weapons, even though they had no intention of using them. One flash from an energy bolt, either at the airlock or seen through one of the viewports, would alert the MK crew. Already on guard with the transfer of the credits, they would take action. Adam would disable the pirate’s MKs, and then he and Sherri would use their Human super strength to take them out.

The truck with the money was sitting a few rows of spaceships away, surrounded by a phalanx of guards with the loading complete. It wasn’t moving; waiting now for the word from the bosses that it was safe to proceed. A caravan of long, dark transports drove away from the ship toward the spaceport exit, ostensibly taking the negotiators and their escorts to meet Angar.

“You ready?” Adam asked Sherri.

She took a deep breath and smiled. “Let’s go kick some alien ass.”

Adam winked, and then activated both the inner and outer airlock doors at the same time with his brain-interface device.

They stepped inside quickly. Adam shut the outer door and locked out the controls. He didn’t want any of the pirates fleeing the ship and raising the alarm.

They reached the spine corridor without seeing anyone and turned aft, toward the common area. The pirates were hanging out there, waiting for instructions from their captain. With twelve on the ship, that left eighteen—plus Angar—at the building. Adam had relayed this information to Riyad before he and Sherri entered the ship.

Now they stood at an open portal, watching the pirates as they drank, ate or otherwise were engrossed in datapads resting in their laps. It took a moment before anyone noticed them.

The reaction was swift. MKs were pulled out, targeting computers activated and weapons locked on. The only problem: none of the firing circuits were intact. The guns didn’t fire.

Adam should have realized that these pirates would recognize Adam and Sherri. Although this crew was made up mostly of newbies, the veterans had worked with the Humans before, and they had been commanded by Riyad for the past year. They were familiar with Riyad and his friends, not only from firsthand knowledge but from stories which spread more rapidly and lasted longer with the quasi-relationship the pirates had with the Humans.

This was a long way of saying the pirates didn’t waste time trying to figure out why their MKs weren’t working. Rather, half of them threw their inert handguns at the Humans while everyone charged. Four of them concentrated on the smaller female, while eight plowed into Adam.

Even with his Human strength, quickness and coordination, eight aliens attacking at one time was too much, even for him. He was thrown to the deck, while a series of hits and kicks pummeled his body. He could take the blows, at least for a while, being more immune to the hits than Sherri. He was still enjoying the aftereffects of having a small amount of Panur’s mutant brain cells in his head. Although they were gone now, his body had learned from the experience, at least to a degree. He figured he’d had around a twenty-percent increase in most bodily functions, including strength, toughness and even intelligence, above his prior state. Now he struggled to use his added physical abilities to get the upper hand against eight vicious and desperate aliens, all of which knew they were fighting for their lives against the Human.

Both his arms were pulled to his side and held down. He tried to roll over so he could free one of them, but the aliens held firm. Two were straddling him, raining fists down on his bloody face. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. These guys were better than he expected.

One of his arms broke free, along with a leg. Adam rammed a foot into the crotch of one of the aliens standing over him. This was often a hit or miss proposition with most aliens, but this time it paid off. The pirate grunted, grabbed his privates and then threw up…all over Adam.

There was a slight break in the fighting as some of the pirates recoiled from the vomit. Another arm came free and Adam began wailing away with both fists and legs. He wasn’t looking for a target; there were so many of the enemy around him that he was making contact without even trying. Five of the eight aliens were either dead or writhing in pain on the deck. At that point, Adam got a chance to look over at Sherri to see how she was doing….

The four aliens had been able to press her against a bulkhead before laying fists to her face and knees to her midsection. She slipped to one side, placing a pirate between her and the other three, using the alien body for cover. A well-placed kick had taken out one of her attackers, but then another picked up a long knife from the galley and lunged at her with it. Sherri was able to spin the closest pirate toward the blade, which sliced into his side, followed by a piercing scream. The cut didn’t kill the pirate, but when Sherri ripped the knife from the hand of the attacker and ran it across the throat of the wounded being, he was done.

Sherri hoisted the dead alien off the floor and tossed his limp body at the alien that once held the knife. He raised his arms in defense…and a moment later found a twelve-inch blade embedded in his chest. That left only one pirate to contend with. He backed away and then tried rushing past the blood-covered Human to reach the airlock. Sherri crashed a shoulder into him, bouncing the frail body off the metal bulkhead. Stunned, the pirate was an easy target for a fist to the back of the neck, severing the creature’s spine.

Sherri turned to Adam to see how he was doing.

The remaining three pirates in Adam’s contingent were now on the deck, two silent and still, with another moaning and crawling toward one of the couches in the common room. Adam was on his feet, bloody, bruised and aching.

“That should have gone easier,” he said. Angry and frustrated, Adam stepped over to Sherri’s knife victim and withdrew the blade from his lifeless body. He made quick work of the five wounded pirates. They couldn’t leave any witnesses.

Adam and Sherri looked at each other and laughed. They were cut, bruised and covered in blood. Fortunately, there were plenty of pirate uniforms around, either in lockers or on the bodies of the non-bloody dead. Adam and Sherri cleaned up and then changed into the pirate uniforms.

The outfits were quite stylish, consisting of charcoal gray tops with a wide swath of black accenting the garment. The pants were also black and made of a flexible elastic fabric. They were comfortable and allowed for freedom of movement. Adam wondered if Riyad had designed them….

Adam picked up several of the flash weapons scattered about the deck and reactivated their firing circuits. The Humans had just taken on twelve aliens in hand-to-hand combat. Another fifty or so awaited them at the money truck; however, with them they could use their MKs. Adam would disable the alien’s weapons before they made their move. After that it would be a headlong, guns a-blazing assault on the truck.

* * *

Riyad made it down the stairwell of the ten-story building without incident. Kaylor—who had ducked into a side corridor when Angar and his large entourage of uniformed pirates entered—met him near the guard station.

“This is the being I have been expecting. Thank you, we shall now proceed to the meeting.”

Kaylor used his ATD to communicate with Riyad in private.

I saw a cart and a container on top when the pirates passed by. It could be the collector, he thought.

Good, we’re in the right place.

But there are so many of them, Kaylor thought, worry evident in the emotions Riyad could sense in his mind. He didn’t want to get flippant with his alien friend and make some boastful remark about the more the merrier. Kaylor was nervous enough and wouldn’t see the humor in it. Instead: It’ll be okay, Kaylor. I’ll look after you.

Belsonian and Human hurried down the same corridor Angar had passed through moments before. The pirate’s large contingent could be heard through several floors, making them easy to follow. It took all the elevators and two loads each to move them to the fifth floor, where the elevators stopped.

Riyad and Kaylor ran for the stairs, but just as they entered, Riyad called them to a halt when he heard more noise coming from behind. He looked out the stairwell door as another horde of aliens filled the corridor. But these were different aliens, not pirates. The ones in the front wore expensive white suits, while the guards behind sported leather and metal uniforms, all brand new and tailored. These would be the Maris-Kliss people, strutting down the hallway like the owned the place. For all Riyad knew, they did.

He and Kaylor hurried up the stairs.

18

Adam and Sherri’s uniforms provided camouflage in the deepening gray of night. They moved among the silent starships to get closer to the truck and the surrounding sentries. Adam began the process of disarming the weapons, which included a handgun for each guard plus a Xan-fi flash rifle. There were other crewmembers at the landing bay ramp, but they were unarmed. Each weapon had to be individually targeted, and Adam was about half way through when the unexpected happened.

The truck drove away.

Adam had a moment of panic. He scanned the electronic components of the truck for a way to stop it. He had plenty of options. The problem: he’d never disabled a truck before, and certainly not so he could repair the damage quickly, allowing Sherri and him to drive off in it after disposing of the driver. As a consequence, the Humans stood helpless as the truck continued along its journey unimpeded.

They began to run, moving parallel to the truck, but a row of spaceships away. They believed they were unseen in the gray uniforms but apparently someone in the huge MK starship saw them and raised the alarm. Two dark figures, running along with the truck full of credits, looked suspicious enough for the guards to spring into action. The ones whose weapons still worked moved into position and opened fire.

Flash bolts splashed off the hard ground of the landing field, as well as the metal surfaces of the spaceships around them. Adam found it hard to run, dodge incoming balls of plasma and concentrate on disabling Xan-fi rifles all at the same time. And then the side of a starship to their right exploded from a brilliant flash cannon bolt. The two Humans were thrown to the ground by the concussion, setting the left arm of Sherri’s uniform on fire. Adam rolled her over and patted out the fire.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…hurry, it’s getting away!”

The truck was at the spaceport exit and turning north along the frontage road. Sherri and Adam got to their feet and raced off again, dodging another powerful flash cannon blast from the huge MK starship. Obviously, the aliens didn’t care what they had to destroy to stop them.

The wall along the north side of the spaceport was ahead of them; Adam lowered a shoulder and crashed into it. He bounced back, dazed. However, his added strength and Human durability had managed to break away the mortar holding the concrete blocks together. The wall caved outward but not completely. Adam recovered, and with Sherri adding her weight, they hit the wall again. This time a hole opened up and they stepped through.

There was a road running along the north side of the spaceport that connected to the main one along the east face. If they hurried to could get to the frontage road before the money truck raced by.

Humans in Woken gravity could run about forty miles per hour. The truck, on the other hand, could only manage about thirty in the tight confines of the city street. Adam ran ahead of Sherri. He detected the approaching truck through his ATD and timed his leap perfectly.

Adam planted himself on the cab of the truck, his body covering the left side window, his hand gripping the roof. He smashed a knee into the glass and then flung himself inside. The driver was sitting at a central control station with the steering joystick held in both hands. There were three guards in seats behind him, each fumbling with their flash rifles, wondering why they weren’t working. Adam went after the guards first.

He threw his body into them, with a fist driving hard into the face of the first alien in the row. Next, he placed a hand on the head of the middle guard and shoved it into that of the one next to him. Both aliens slumped over, dead or unconscious, Adam didn’t care which. He turned his attention to the driver.

The alien panicked and steered the truck into a parked transport on the right. The truck lurched to a stop, throwing Adam forward and into the front windshield, shattering it. He was now on the hood with the driver hitting him with a metal club he found somewhere in the cab. It was having an impact, until Adam fell back into the cab and caught the driver with a solid right cross to the chin. The alien fell forward, and into Adam’s outstretched hands. A quick twist of the head and the driver’s neck broke.

A flash bolt shattered the right side window, barely missing Adam as he ducked behind the door and scrunched down on the floor of the cab. More bolts filled the small compartment.

Adam reached out with his ATD and detected six active flash weapons, three on each side of the truck, being fired by the six aliens who had been riding in the back, guarding the money. He only got two disabled before he heard bolts being fired outside that weren’t reaching the cab. He cautiously poked his head over the threshold of the shattered window.

Sherri was there, armed with a Xan-fi rifle she’d taken off one of the guards. Coming up behind them as they concentrated on Adam in the cab, she was firing point-blank, eliminating the threat.

“Get in!” he yelled as the last guard fell. He opened the door, tossing dead aliens out to make room for Sherri. She slipped into the back seat while Adam took the controls. He put the truck in reverse and backed away from the crunched transport in front of them and then steered to the left, continuing along the frontage road, moving past the set of four buildings where the other part of the operation was taking place—hopefully.

They had the money truck. Now all they needed was to get the dark matter collector and then everything off the planet.

Copernicus! Adam called through his ATD. He was expecting the link.

Here.

We have the truck. Get airborne and move north by the pirate’s spaceport. Watch out for the MK ship; they’ll shoot at anything they think is part of the attack.

Where to?

Don’t know yet. There has to be some place you can land up ahead. Just be ready when we find one.

Roger. So you got the money?

We got the money—

Adam suddenly went pale. He pulled back on the accelerator and brought the large truck to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Sherri asked in a panic. She knew MK forces were right behind them.

“Just making sure.”

He jumped out of the cab and ran to the back of the truck. He hopped onto the covered bed and ripped off the lid to one of the crates designed specifically to transport sensitive Juirean credits. The chips and their embedded electronics were susceptible to various kinds of radiation and had to be shielded. He was rewarded with the sight of tightly banded stacks of light green Juirean credits—the twenty-five thousand denomination chip. He placed the lid back on the box and reentered the cab.

“What if the crates didn’t contain credit chips?” he said to his confused companion as he engaged the transport and moved off down the road. “We’ve been assuming that was an MK ship, and not just a group of pirates with a cargo of expensive dresses stolen from a planet somewhere in the Frontier. That would have sucked.”

“So…do the crates contain credits?”

Adam looked over his shoulder and cast Sherri a shit-eating grin. “Yes, ma’am, they most certainly do.”

Riyad, we got the money, Adam called out through his ATD. How you doing?

You don’t want to know. Adam could literally sense the stress in his voice.

What’s going on?

19

What was going on was a major firefight in a hallway of the administration building. On one side were the forces of Angar; on the other the MK troops. Word had come through regarding the attack on the cash truck, and the MK executives, suspecting a double-cross, had ordered their forces to take out Angar’s and secure the dark matter collector.

Riyad and Kaylor had just moved into the hallway from the stairwell, silently moving up behind Angar’s pirates, when the shooting started. A couple of dozen MK troops in their tailored uniforms appeared from behind and opened fire. Not knowing whose side they were on, both sets of fighters targeted the pair, as well as anyone else not part of their tribe. Riyad pulled Kaylor into an alcove leading to a maintenance closet, where they were now huddled while flash bolts streaked past in both directions within the corridor only a foot away.

Riyad was busy locating and disarming flash weapons, but there were so many of them that it was going to take a while. But inexorably, the volume of bolts began to drop. There was shouting and confusion from both sides. Riyad targeted the MK shooters first since there were a lot more of them than the pirates. Angar’s troops would help take out the now defenseless menagerie of corporate aliens. When the pirate’s weapons fell silent from his efforts, he and Kaylor stepped from their hiding place and began to fire at those guarding a particular door off the corridor.

Alien eyes opened wide as they recognized Riyad. Many dropped their now-useless weapons and ran up the hallway, abandoning their guard duty. Others dropped to their knees and bent forward, surrendering to Riyad.

With his jaw firmly set with anger and determination, Riyad hurried past the penitent pirates and smashed through the door.

Two uniformed aliens were near a table across the room, fiddling with their inert handguns. Although neither was Angar, Riyad focused all his rage on the pair.

That’s when he caught a heavy metal rod across his nose and eyes. He was moving forward at the time, and his feet kept going as his head was forced backward. He fell hard on his back, his vision nothing but gray as he fought to remain conscious.

His eyesight cleared quickly, in time to see Angar appear from his right, holding a long pole with a colorful flag attached to one end. Beyond the pirate captain was a whole set of flag poles, all held like six-foot tall flowers in a pot against one of the walls of the room.

Angar flipped the pole around, until its sharp end was pointed at Riyad’s chest. The Nimorian growled, displaying a full-tooth snarl, which to this particular race of alien meant a death challenge. He lifted the pole, preparing to impel Riyad with his deadly spear—

A brilliant flash blinded Riyad momentarily. When his vision cleared, he saw a perfectly round black hole smoldering in the center of Angar’s chest, his eyes open and wide with shock. The pole toppled forward, with the pirate’s body right behind it, draping itself over Riyad’s.

He shoved the dead alien away and wobbled to his feet. Someone took his arm and steadied him. It was Kaylor.

“Damn…thanks!” he said.

“You are welcome. But hurry. The two pirates have fled, but the MK fighters are cautiously approaching.”

Riyad was still groggy and he believed his nose was broken—his once perfectly shaped nose, which was an integral part of his stunningly handsome face. He turned to Angar’s body and gave it a swift kick. “You asshole! This better heal up right.”

“Riyad!”

He returned his attention to Kaylor.

“It is not here!”

“What’s not here?”

“The collector…and Angar is dead.”

The words sank in. Riyad scanned the room in a panic. There were only a couple of chairs, two tables and the pot of flagpoles. But no dark matter collector. There were, however, two doorways set in the walls to the left and right on the other side of the room.

They each ran for a door. Riyad opened his and looked inside; just more furniture, but no dark matter collector.

“I have found it!” he heard Kaylor call out.

Riyad raced to the room. As Kaylor had said, the suitcase-size device with the encircling shielding screen was there, along with the bag holding the two cube cases. He took everything in his arms and moved them into the outer room, setting his load down on one of the tables.

He bent over and picked up the two flash weapons the pirates had discarded. He tossed one to Kaylor…who fumbled the device and then dropped it. Aliens didn’t have very good eye-to-hand coordination.

“These will work now. Take out the MK people when they come—”

His instructions were cut short when five sophistically-dressed alien fighters pressed their way through the doorway. Two made it in, while the other three became stuck. Kaylor began to fire, spraying the room with flash bolts, killing three of the MK troops before draining the 10-shot battery pack in his weapons. More aliens were at the door.

Riyad pressed the other MK-17 into Kaylor’s hand, making sure he had a good grip before releasing it. The Belsonian grinned and then opened fire again. His aim was getting better, but not much. This time he still had two shots left when the aliens retreated.

“Do you know much about these dark matter cubes?” Riyad asked his alien friend.

“Only that they are dangerous if ruptured.”

“Adam said they can be broken.”

“That is what the Gracilians told us.”

“And the blast radius if one breaks?”

“I do not understand all these questions, Riyad. The MK troops are still outside.”

“We need to destroy the evidence to make it look like the pirates and MK fought it out and the DMC was destroyed in the process.”

“You intend to use a cube to set off a…an annihilation event, they called it?”

“How big of a blast radius?” Riyad asked impatiently.

“The Gracilians indicated a half-mile impact,” Kaylor reluctantly answered.

“Great! That will take out these buildings and the south end of the spaceport. Wham bam and suddenly no witnesses and just a lot of guessing. Perfect.”

Kaylor wasn’t sold on the plan. “And how do you intend to break the cube and not kill us in the process?”

Riyad looked around the room. That was a good question. An explosion might be enough to break the containment material, but he would need a timer or a remote control.

Then it hit him.

He rushed to the doorway and picked up two of the inert flash weapons before tearing a strip of fabric from the uniform of a dead alien—there were plenty of them lying about. He returned to the table and took out one of the cases from the bag. He removed a cube and placed it between two MK-17s before wrapping them together with the piece of cloth. Rushing to the pot of flagpoles, he placed his contraption in the vase where it couldn’t be seen. Even if someone came into the room after they left, they would have no reason to be looking for a bomb.

“I do not understand,” said Kaylor.

“We block the power feed and then fire the weapons with our ATDs. Kaboom…a big explosion and instant black hole.”

“We have to be far enough away.”

“We’ll only set it off when we are. Don’t worry. Just hope the explosion is big enough to break the cube.” He loaded his arms up with the DMC and the satchel. “Take point; we’re leaving.”

“Point?”

“The lead, my friend. Lead us out of here.”

With his arms full of dark matter paraphernalia, Riyad followed Kaylor into the outside corridor. There weren’t too many aliens left; only three plus the two white-suited executives. Kaylor approached in their direction and they retreated a few steps.

“You will regret your actions,” said the tall, six-armed alien.

“That I doubt.” Riyad said. He turned to Kaylor and handed him the satchel of dark matter cubes. Now with a free hand, he reached down and picked up one of the many MK weapons littering the floor.

The five aliens stood defiant. “They will not work; somehow you have disabled the devices.”

Riyad smiled. “Yet these are quality MK bolt launchers, the best in the galaxy.”

He took aim and blasted the three guards, leaving only the startled executives staring in disbelief, their brilliant white suits now sprayed with blood.

“But…how?”

“Sorry, no time to explain, oh…and no witnesses, either.”

Riyad shot the pair point-blank, ruining their pretty white suits.

20

Adam we have the collector, Riyad announced through his ATD. Where are you?

North along the main road, still trying to find a place for Coop to land.

Understood. We’ll get out of the building and head your way. I’ll stay in touch.

With so much shooting going on within the building, the place was nearly deserted by the time Riyad and Kaylor made their way down the stairwell to ground level. Even the guards had left, not wanting any part of the battle taking place. The same was true on the street outside. If there was one thing the criminal element understood it was gunfights. And unless you had a stake in the outcome, you made yourself scarce for fear of catching a stray bullet—or bolt in this case.

The pair moved along the sidewalk. If anyone was around, they remained hidden. The Belsonian and Human were the only ones to come out of the building alive after the initial panicked exodus. As a result, no one outside was willing to take them on.

* * *

Adam finally came upon a small park on his right, sandwiched between a series of large tenement buildings. Any of the grass that had once covered the ground had died off and all that was left were large mud puddles from the near-constant drizzle.

Do you see it? Adam asked Coop.

Yeah…I got it. It’s going to be tight, and unfortunately, the buildings are going to need a shitload of new windows after we’re done.

Consider it a form of natural air conditioning. Drop the landing ramp as soon as you’re down.

Adam and Sherri were coughing and blinded by the clouds of landing exhaust, made thicker and hotter than normal by the confining nature of the surrounding buildings. Adam could barely see to drive the money truck into the landing bay, yet once inside, he shut the door with his ATD.

We’re in. Now let’s go look for Riyad and Kaylor.

The ship took off, jostling Adam and Sherri as they set the brake on the truck and climbed out. The inertia compensators were off while the ship was under the influence of planetside gravity, so the going was rough on the pair as Coop banked the ship to the right and headed back toward the spaceport. The huge truck slid into a side wall, spilling a crate of credits out the back. It was the one with the loose lid Adam had opened.

Adam and Sherri reached the bridge just as the Gracilian ship came in view of the spaceport. The MK ship was still there, but it wouldn’t be for long. They would be lifting off soon to come after them.

Riyad, where are you? Adam asked through his brain-interface.

Hurrying along the frontage road, heading north.

Okay, we see you!

So how do we get aboard?

Give me a minute.

We don’t have a minute. The MK assholes will be after us before that.

Adam spotted an area of single-level tenement structures a couple of blocks over, made up mainly of lean-tos and aluminum boxes for housing.

“Copernicus, hover over that section for a moment. Let the residents get out before you land.”

“You want me to land on their homes?”

“We’ll make it up to them.”

Riyad, go east two blocks. We’ll pick you up there.

Prodigious clouds of exhaust smoke poured down on the slum, causing those who lived there to run for their lives. A moment later, Copernicus set the spaceship down directly on top of their homes, crushing them to thin pieces of rubble. Adam ran to the loading bay and helped Riyad and Kaylor into the ship. Then he rushed to the pile of twenty-five thousand Juirean credits littering the deck nearby. He scooped up a large armful and carried it to the rear of the bay before tossing it out.

Riyad, still holding the DMC and satchel in his arms, looked at his friend as if he’d lost his mind. “What the hell?”

“A little donation to the neighborhood revitalization program.”

“Do you realize how much money that is to these people?”

“Yeah, I do. Now secure the DMC. We have to go back to Angar’s building and shoot the place up a little to destroy any evidence.”

Riyad flashed one of his trademark brilliant smiles at his friend. “I’ve already taken care of that. Just get us about twenty miles up and I’ll tell you about it.”

* * *

“You’re going to blow up one of the dark matter cubes!” Adam said. “That’s crazy. How do you know twenty miles is far enough away?”

“Kaylor said they have a radius of half a mile.”

“That is what the Gracilians told us,” Kaylor spoke up in his defense. “I was only going by what they said.”

“And how do we even know your flash weapon bomb will set it off?” Sherri asked.

“If it doesn’t then we go back to Plan A. If it does, then it not only takes out the building but also the MK ship,” Riyad pointed out. “But we better hurry. The bad guys are going to be lifting off soon.”

“You have to block the battery feed at the same time you fire the weapons. Are you good enough with an ATD to do both?” Adam asked.

“No…and that’s why I need your help.” Riyad turned to Kaylor. “You might want to record this; the information could come in handy.”

Kaylor went to a console. “I am not familiar with these controls. How do I record?”

Sherri went to help. After a moment, they had a brief sequence from the lower security camera recorded and playing back. It seemed to be working.

Riyad turned to Adam with a smile.

“So where are the weapons?” Adam asked.

“I’ll show you.”

The two men became silent, each concentrating intensely on the area of the city twenty miles below the ship.

They should be the only two active weapons on the floor, or at least the only two next to each other.

I see them.

What Adam actually saw in his mind were the bright white indicators of the weapons’ energy signals. He focused until he could follow the individual tracks of wires and battery components within each device.

What do you want me to do? he mentally asked Riyad.

You’re better with the ATD than I am. I’ll block the battery feeds while you fire the weapons.

Got it.

On the count of three, and I mean three, two, one…go. Understood?

That’s actually four counts. Adam smiled, which confused the others on the bridge, not knowing the mental conversation that was going on.

Ready? Riyad ask. Here we go. Three, two, one…go.

* * *

It happened in a flash—literally—and the team would have to replay the recording several times, mostly at extreme slow motion, before they understood what happened.

An intense bright point of light flared where the building had once stood. Instantly, a perfectly curved scoop of ground was removed from the surface of Woken, taking with it the set of buildings and parts of the surrounding neighborhood, as well as half the spaceport, including the MK starship. What was amazing was that other ships and structures at the edge of the annihilation event stood with perfectly smooth slices taken out of them, showing that the event did indeed have a limited range. However, that only lasted a fraction of a second.

As the sphere of atmosphere, dirt and structures disappeared from existence, there came a volume of air rushing in from all sides to fill the vacuum. It moved at over a thousand miles per hour, but having to cover only a quarter mile before reaching the center of the missing sphere. The initial singularity—which had formed when the two dark matter particles met—was now gone. The air mass, and with it parts of buildings, soil and other debris, collided at the center, compressed and then recoiled, sending out a tremendous shock wave that radiated for two miles in every direction before dissipating.

Adam’s team was dumbfounded by what they saw in the recording. The results were both more satisfying—and tragic—than they imagined. The devastation was complete, and would serve their purpose of hiding the effects of the battle—and the theft—that had taken place. Hopefully, most of the natives had left the area while the fighting was going on and survived. The slum neighborhood where Adam dropped the credits was in shambles, but he laughed when he thought how for years to come the natives would be finding stray twenty-five thousand credit chips in the rubble. That helped to pacify some of the emotions he was feeling at the moment.

The shiny new Maris-Kliss starship had also vanished, meaning no immediate pursuit would be forthcoming. Adam was also sure messages had been sent before the annihilation event, reporting on the battle in the building and the theft of the money truck. Back at MK headquarters, it would be assumed everything was lost, including the elusive dark matter collector. All the dire predictions the Gracilians had made would be dismissed as just paranoid speculation. Yes, a singularity had been created, but nothing self-sustaining or large enough to destroy the galaxy. Until another collector was found, the promise of unlimited dark matter energy would have to wait.

21

Coop set a course out of the Woken system and back to the Klin saucer Kaylor had left about half a light-year away.

The DMC and loose cubes were under the shielding screen, so the comm was working, along with the gravity drive. As a consequence, a CW link was opened with the Colony Ship, and Jym’s excited face looked down on them from a large monitor on the forward bulkhead.

“So what now, fearless leader?” Sherri asked Adam as the Gracilian starship dropped out of a deep gravity-well and approached the small Klin saucer. “We still have the dark matter collector and most of the cubes.”

“We also have a fortune in Juirean credits!” the tiny bear-like alien exclaimed.

Sherri smiled, about as broadly as Adam had ever seen her smile.

“That we do!” she said.

Adam waved his hand at the group. “We still have to be careful. Right now everyone thinks the money was destroyed along with the DMC. If we go around living high on the hog, someone is bound to notice and put two and two together.”

Kaylor batted his eyes rapidly, lost in the confusing translation he was hearing.

“But what about the Gracilians?” he asked, letting Adam’s comment remain unresolved in his mind.

“Simple. I’ll just tell them what happened,” Adam said. “The DMC was stolen three times, once by MK, then the Cartel and finally by Angar. We tried to recover it but everything was destroyed on Woken.”

“And the half-million credits we have been paid?” Jym asked. “I have already spent a large amount of that getting the Colony Ship ready to come to your rescue—a rescue I see is no longer required. Arieel and her natives are aboard as we speak helping with the final outfitting.”

“Arieel’s aboard?” Adam asked.

“She has been notified of the link and is on her way to the bridge, but the ship is large. She will arrive momentarily.”

Adam nodded. “About the money, that was non-refundable,” Adam reported. “The Gracilians will be upset, but relieved. They’ll think they’ve lost the DMC, but at least no one else will be able to get their hands on such deadly power.”

“Why don’t we just give it back to them?” Kaylor asked.

Adam shook his head. “If we did that, news would eventually leak out that the DMC wasn’t destroyed in the—what do you call it, the annihilation event? At that point this whole vicious cycle starts over again. One way or another, this technology will get out into the public domain, either by someone stealing it—again—or Volic will simply give in and sell it. It’s too dangerous for even the Gracilians to have.” Adam smiled. “And now that we don’t have to sell it to make a shitload of money, we won’t.”

“What are we going to do with it?” Sherri asked.

“That I don’t know. I honestly believe it is too dangerous to be destroyed. Look what one tiny cube did on Woken. And the Gracilians say the explosive effect is multiplied exponentially by the number of cubes involved.”

“We’ll have to hide it then,” Sherri said. “And somewhere no one will ever find it.”

“That’s right,” Adam agreed. Then he paused and looked around the room at the faces of all the friends he had in the galaxy. “But first, let’s get back to the Colony Ship.” He looked at Jym’s image on the screen. “I assume all the ships that have been waiting for us have left?”

“Yes they did. Once word of the event on Woken filtered to them, they were gone almost immediately.”

“Good, it looks like our ruse worked. We’ll return to the Colony Ship and figure out our next moves there. And remember, no one runs off with their share of the money and starts flashing it around.”

“And that means you, too, Mr. Cain. So a log cabin instead of a log home for you back at Tahoe,” Sherri said, smiling warmly.

“You read my mind.”

“You know I can’t do that anymore, since my poor little ATD is broken,” Sherri pouted. “But maybe with some of my money, I’ll buy a replacement.”

22

The trip back to the Colony Ship would take eighteen days. It should have taken eleven, but Adam had to hold back so that the Klin saucer could keep up. Even still, Kaylor was trailing two hours behind the Orion.

The transit time gave the crew an opportunity to unwind and start to grasp the new reality before them. One hundred eight million credits divided six ways—approximately, since Adam had given some of it away to the slum natives on Woken—came out to eighteen million each. The team decided unanimously that each member would receive the same share, this after Jym expressed concern that he would be cut out of the deal. That wasn’t going to happen.

During the journey, Sherri transferred over to the Klin saucer to keep Kaylor from not feeling left out. He was traveling alone and missing out on all the euphoria inside the Orion. Now after two days, she sat on the bridge with the alien as an awkward silence grew between them. A few moments before, Kaylor had said some things, and then Sherri said some things. Now they were trying to work it out.

Kaylor spoke first.

“You do not have to worry about me. I am quite content to be alone.”

“I realize that,” Sherri said. “It’s just that the rest of us are celebrating our good fortune and I thought you might be feeling left out. Forgive me for having some empathy for your feelings.”

Kaylor grimaced. He studied Sherri’s face for a long moment before responding. “This is a sensitive subject for me,” said the alien, “but I am not comfortable being around Humans, even Humans like you and Adam. You are my friends, but still you are…aliens.”

Sherri laughed, which confused Kaylor. “I can understand that,” Sherri said. “That’s the same way I feel about you…hell, about all aliens.”

Seeing that Sherri wasn’t offended by his embarrassing admission, Kaylor relaxed. “Honestly, when I have to spend any extended time with your kind, I end up frustrated and often angry. Humans have such an odd way of speaking and thinking. It is not normal. Have you noticed that about your species?”

“Most definitely,” Sherri said. “It’s confusing for us, too. We seem to make things up as we go, and the more obscure the reference, the cleverer we think we’re being. It’s a real pain in the ass. I can understand how you feel.”

“Then you are not angry or offended by my wish to be alone?”

“Of course not! I feel the same way most of the time. Can you imagine what it’s like having to hang out with Adam, Coop and Riyad, and be the only girl?”

“And yet you have had intimate relations with all three.”

Sherri frowned. Kaylor was right, even though it made her sound like a whore. It wasn’t like that…was it?

She stood up. “Okay Kaylor, you can have your peace and quiet, free of any Human interaction. I’ll get the shuttle ready and return to the Orion, no hard feelings.”

“Hard feelings? Is that good or bad?”

“It’s good. It means I’m not mad.”

“You do understand what I mean? Even the most simple of statements can become confusing when spoken by a Human.”

Kaylor leaned forward to check the nav screen, locating the Orion for Sherri’s return to the ship. He tensed and leaned in even closer. Sherri picked up on the alien’s reaction.

“What’s wrong?”

“The Orion…it is not there.”

Sherri crowded the screen with Kaylor a moment later. He was right. It was gone…no wait, it had changed course. “There it is.”

“But why has it changed course?” Kaylor worked his keyboard. “I estimate they have been on that trajectory for ten minutes.”

“Why didn’t Adam contact us?”

“I will attempt to reach him—”

“No don’t!” Sherri cried out. “Something’s wrong. They would have contacted us if everything was fine. Plot their current course. Where are they headed?”

“Plotting: They are heading away from the galaxy, on a track above the plane. But there is nothing out there except—”

“—Except the Gracilian research station. I should know. I spent six long months there.”

“Has Adam decided to return the dark matter collector to the Gracilians?”

“Not voluntarily, I’m sure. Just hang back for a while and let’s see what happens.”

Kaylor stretched out a thin grin, careful not to expose his teeth. “It is at times like these that I am glad to have a Human around.”

“And I a Belsonian. You know, we really do make a good team.”

* * *

It happened so fast.

One moment the Orion was bolting along in a deep gravity-well, on course for the Formilian star system and the huge Klin Colony Ship. The next, the ship was out of their control and changing course radically, essentially going back the way they came, but now angling above the plane of the ecliptic. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened and where they were going.

Coop, Adam and Riyad were the only ones onboard, with Sherri and Kaylor in the Klin saucer, two hours behind. The fact that the pair hadn’t contacted them by CW link meant they realized what was happening. That was good. But whether they knew the whole story remained to be seen, especially since Adam and the others were pretty much in the dark themselves.

It was an hour before the first contact was made, and not from Sherri and Kaylor, but from a source ahead of them, not behind.

Adam didn’t have to establish the link if he didn’t want to; he could just as easily let it go to voicemail just to frustrate the Gracilian he knew was calling. But he was curious. The overall picture was pretty clear; it was the details they lacked.

Adam made the link.

A frustrated Volic Nusin was on the screen.

“I hope I am not interrupting?” said the alien.

“Nah,” Adam said. “We were just being hijacked; happens all the time.”

“Hijacked? Oh, yes…the translator was slow. You are being hijacked.”

“How did you know where we were?”

Volic laughed. “Mr. Adam, you are in a Gracilian ship, the one we provided. We have known your location throughout your journey. And when it was detected that you were traveling away from the Frontier, an embedded program took over your systems that will return you—and the DMC—to the research station.”

“The DMC? But it was destroyed.”

“Yes, Mr. Adam, the DMC. Did you truly believe we would not see the truth that the annihilation event on Woken involved but a single cube? Others may believe the collector has been destroyed—with no accompanying major annihilation event—but not us. We know what dark matter is capable of. We have told others, but they did not believe, not fully. And now your insignificant demonstration on Woken has convinced them that we were wrong. That is not good for our long-term plans.”

“I believe you, and that’s why I wasn’t going to return the collector to you. It’s too dangerous for anyone to have, even you.”

“And what were you intending to do with it? It cannot be destroyed, or do you believe your Human race could better manage the destructive power of dark matter? Considering the history of your species, you cannot possibly believe that. No, you would have to hide it away. And yet you would know where, and eventually others would, too. In all honesty, only Gracilians know best how to handle this amazing technology.”

“And yet Sherri and Coop stole it from you. Real secure there, buddy. What’s to say that won’t happen again? You obviously have spies aboard your station. Word will get out that you have the DMC, and then this whole crazy cycle will begin again. You can’t keep something this powerful a secret for long. And you saw what we were able to do on the spur of the moment on Woken, and with a single cube. Imagine what others could do with dark matter if they intend to make a weapon out of it?”

“You do not have to voice your arguments to me, Mr. Adam. We have thought them all through for months, since the device was first discovered. We know what to do with dark matter, and all we need is the return of the DMC.” The alien smiled. “And I assume you also absconded with the credits from Woken. As I told you before, all we want is the DMC. Once we have it safely back, you may keep the credits as your reward. But my offer only lasts as long as you cooperate. So relax, my friends. You will be at the station in ten standard days.”

Volic then frowned as he scanned the faces of Riyad and Copernicus standing behind Adam at the comm station. “Where is Miss Sherri?”

Adam was the first to react. “She’s dead. She was killed on Woken, in the insignificant event—as you called it.”

Volic looked at Copernicus. “I am terribly sorry, Mr. Copernicus. Gracilians have mating pairs, such as Humans. I knew you and Miss Sherri were intimate.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“I hope you do.”

Adam got the distinct impression Volic didn’t believe a word they said. That was okay. He felt the same about the Gracilian.

The screen went black.

“That answers two of the questions I had,” Adam said with enthusiasm.

“What questions?” Riyad asked.

“First, they can’t see us or hear us. All they can do is track us. Otherwise they would have known about Sherri and Kaylor. That’s something we have in our favor. They don’t know Kaylor is following.”

“And the other thing?”

“It’s a program that’s taken over the ship. All we have to do is find it and we’ll be free to go our merry way.”

23

Sherri studied the track chart again and grimaced. She and Kaylor could follow the Orion all the way to the research station, but then what? They certainly didn’t have the firepower to take on the Gracilians and the Incus. Even when she and Copernicus were there they had at least a dozen warships in the space around it. Besides, if the DMC was returned, then they couldn’t shoot up the place without the chance of setting off a dark matter chain reaction that could create a supermassive black hole. The station was located well outside the galactic plane, so maybe the effects wouldn’t be so widespread. Of course, that wouldn’t help them. Rescue the men just to have them all sucked into a giant singularity. That wouldn’t work.

“Would the Gracilians know if we called Jym?”

“They should not, the signal is going in the opposite direction,” Kaylor replied.

“Call him.”

Kaylor made the connection and a few moments later, a groggy-looking Jym was wiping sleep from his eyes and squinting at the screen.

“Some consideration for local time would be appreciated,” he growled.

Sherri moved in front of the camera. “Jym, the Orion has been taken over by the Gracilians and is being taken to the research station outside the galaxy.”

“The Orion—what is that?”

“It’s what Adam is calling the Gracilian ship he’s been using.”

“Why have I not been told of this? We have had prior conversations.” Then Sherri’s words began to sink in. “The Gracilians…their research station…and what of the credits!” The tiny alien was suddenly wide awake.

“They’re on the ship, along with the dark matter collector.”

“They have our money?”

Sherri pursed her lips and gave up. “Yes, they have our money and we need to get it back.”

“The Colony Ship is fully operational and crewed by Formilians. I will set course immediately!” He jumped up from his chair and moved off camera. He returned a moment later. “Do you have the coordinates I can set?”

Sherri gave him the location of the research station.

By then, Jym was beginning to think the operation through a little more. “This Klin ship is large, but it is lightly armed for offensive operations. Yet it does have an exceptional defensive capability if attacked, but not much for attacking.”

“I understand,” Sherri said. “We don’t want to fire on the station anyway—it could set off the dark matter. But there are a number of Gracilian warships in the area. I’m telling you, I’d think twice if I saw a twenty-mile wide spacecraft bearing down on me.”

“Think twice about what?” Jym asked. “Thinking once should be sufficient, if you were thinking of…of what? I don’t understand.”

“That is correct,” Kaylor chimed in. “It seldom makes sense what she—or any of the Humans—say. It is all so confusing.”

“And we have had more experience with Humans than most,” Jym added. “We should be acclimated by now.”

Sherri shook her head at the two aliens and moved on. “How long until you get to the station?” she asked Jym.

“I will have to make exact calculations, but I would estimate thirteen days. Will I get there in time to make a difference?”

“It will take us ten, maybe eleven, so I don’t know. It won’t hurt, though. Just get there as fast as you can.”

* * *

It had been three long and frustrating days for the men aboard the Orion. During that time they had tried everything to either locate the override program or to circumvent it. Copernicus was a top-notch starship mechanic, but even he was at a loss. The Gracilian systems were proprietary, making most unfamiliar to him. He did the best he could, but to no avail. Now the men sat slumped in chairs on the bridge, recycling ideas off each other.

“The dynamic actuation antenna—” Riyad said.

“No, I tried that already.” Coop responded.

“What about the opion filter? I assume they have one onboard,” Adam offered.

“That would work, but I can’t find it. They’re using an alternative and when I tweaked that, nothing happened.”

“The sigma power module? We just shut the whole thing down,” said Riyad.

“I tried that the first thing,” Copernicus countered. “They have backups with special shielding.” He shook his head. “We’ve tried everything and still we’re screwed. Looks like we’re on this train all the way to Baltimore.” He suddenly sat up straight and stretched out a wide grin.

“What is it?” Adam said, noticing the mechanic’s expression.

“We’ve tried everything to regain control of the ship, right? But what we haven’t tried is gaining control of the engines so we can shut them down.”

“What good would that do?” asked Riyad. “We want to get away, not sit dead in the water. Besides, how would we do that? Like you said, we’ve tried everything.”

“We haven’t tried taking the shielding off the DMC.”

Adam and Riyad saw where Coop was going with this.

“The engines start getting finicky and then peter out,” said Adam.

“Still, we’d be just floating in space.”

“It would give Jym more time to get here,” Coop answered. “Assuming he’s on his way.”

“And Sherri and Kaylor could come in and get us, along with the DMC.” Adam added.

“What about the money?” Riyad asked. “We don’t want to leave it aboard the Orion. We could probably get most of in the saucer, but that would take time for the transfer.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. We’re being controlled by a program. There probably isn’t a Gracilian ship around for a hundred light-years.” Adam was seeing the plan come together. They didn’t need the alien ship to get out of the Frontier, at least not this alien ship.

“If we do this, we can contact Sherri by conventional wormhole comm. They’re only two hours behind us, so there shouldn’t be much of a delay. It’s not affected by dark matter. The MK ship made contact with us that way. There’s also the chance the computer program may not be tracking it, since it’s hardly used anymore.” Coop offered.

“I like it! Great idea,” Adam announced. “What about you, Riyad?”

“As long as we get some of the money. It would be a shame to come all this way and have nothing to show for it.”

* * *

They had already contacted Sherri and Kaylor with a one-way traditional comm link. It would take fifteen minutes to reach the Klin saucer. Adam didn’t ask for a reply; that could surely alert the Gracilians if they were in the area. He preferred to play it conservatively.

Copernicus and Riyad were ready to pull the shielding from the dark matter collector. As Sherri and Kaylor drew closer, they would see the stationery starship and move in. After that there would be no going back; the sensors aboard the Orion would pick up the approaching spacecraft and report it to Volic. And if there were any Gracilian ships in the area, they would have to hurry making the transfer and grabbing all the Juirean credits they could.

Just as when Copernicus and Sherri first stole the small Gracilian ship and fled the research station, it took two hours for the unshielded dark matter collector to affect space around them enough for the gravity-well to dissolve. Kaylor was still two hours behind when they came to a stop. Now all they had to do was wait.

The vigil ended not two hours later, but only one. That’s when the huge Gracilian battle cruiser showed up near the Orion. It came as a surprise to the Humans when the massive warship arrived; it was even more of a surprise that the aliens would even have a ship this mean and powerful. They were scientists, not warriors. But as Adam was realizing, there was more to the Gracilians than met the eye.

Adam was hoping Kaylor saw it, too. They were still an hour out, so there was a good chance they could stay hidden.

A few moments later a conventional communication link came through on the bridge of the Orion. It wasn’t from Sherri.

Instead, Volic’s tight-lipped face was on the screen.

“Since your actions have caused the CW comms on your ship to go down, I am routing this link through the Gracilian Destructor Class warship nearby,” said the alien. “Those actions, although clever, were fruitless. I warned you about trying any subterfuge. However, if you return the shielding to the DMC we will proceed as before.”

“Sorry, Volic, but we thought you would say that, so we destroyed it.”

They had. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

The alien’s dark face turned rock-hard. “This is only a delay, Mr. Adam. The Destructor will take the ship in tow using magnetic grapples. The journey will take longer, but you will arrive.”

“I don’t suppose you would consider just letting us go and you keep the DMC?”

“I might have at one point, but now I wish to see you—and your companions—in person once again. I am working on a new project I believe you will find interesting.”

“Would this new project happen to include the words execution and Humans in it?” Riyad asked.

“You are Mr. Riyad, are you not?” asked Volic. “We have not met, not yet. As to your question, I would like to leave that as a surprise. From what I understand—unlike Gracilians—Humans enjoy surprises. I will test this assumption when you arrive.”

24

Adam had a pretty good idea how fast a Colony Ship could travel, and Copernicus had the location of the research station. With that information, they estimated when Jym would reach the station. Killing the engines made their journey longer, but it was still going to be tight.

When they reached the facility, Adam and Riyad crowded the forward viewport for a better look. It was truly huge and shaped like a starfish, with five projecting arms around a round central hub.

Coop had seen about as much of the station as he could stand, so he supplied the narration.

“They do most of the research out on the ends of the arms in case of accidents,” Copernicus explained. “Each section can break away and turn into a little spaceship within seconds if necessary to save the rest of the station, if there’s enough warning. They’re not capable of faster-than-light speed, but they can move pretty quickly under chem power. The Gracilians and Incus do other research here besides dark matter. But when the collector was found, most of the emphasis switched to that. Administration and living quarters are in the central hub.”

From where Adam stood, he could make out five of the huge warships in the space nearby. Coop had said there were usually a dozen or more around to protect the vital research going on at the station. The other ships were out of visual range, but Coop assured him they were there.

The Orion was nudged into a large hangar bay and then brought under localized gravity. The chamber was sealed and pressurized, after which the ship was surrounded by a number of armed Gracilians. The troops were impressive, proving that not all the natives were scientists. Adam also got the impression the armed troops knew what they were doing.

Adam and the others scanned the weapons outside the ship, and that’s when they got their first surprise. The internal workings of the bolt launchers were invisible to their ATDs, since the components weren’t built by the Formilians. In their quest to become major players in the weapons game, the Incus and Gracilians designed their own controllers and batteries, free of any reliance on the Expansion. The team’s ATD’s were built by Formilians to interact only with Formilian controllers. The alien weapons aboard the station would be active and deadly, and there was nothing the team could do about it.

“Well, we can’t stay in here indefinitely,” Adam announced. “Might as well get it over with.”

“You mean our execution?” Riyad asked.

“Hopefully not,” Adam said. “But in any case, you go first.”

Riyad scratched his forehead…with only his middle finger extended.

The moment they stepped outside the starship, a team of dark-skinned Gracilians rushed in and removed the DMC and the satchel with the individual cube containers. They also brought another shielding grid with them.

Volic arrived a few minutes later.

Adam smiled. “Mission accomplished, Volic. You have the DMC back, so when do I get the other half million credits you owe me?”

“Humans are confusing creatures,” the alien said. “I do not know when you are attempting humor or when you are serious.”

“I was hired to return the DMC. I have returned the DMC. We had a contract.”

“Now I know you are attempting humor.” Volic turned to the guards. “Place them in a secure room in area four. Provide food and treat them with care until you receive new instructions.”

He turned back to Adam. “As you have already surmised, all my prior assurances are not to be honored, yet I see no reason why I cannot offer you and your friends courtesy while in my care. Besides, I have much to reveal to you, events and plans which you may find interesting. But first I must tend to my prize. It has been missing for quite some time. And to you Mr. Copernicus, I say welcome home.”

The three men were taken to a large suite of rooms, tastefully-appointed and definitely upscale.

“Is this where you and Sherri lived?” Riyad asked, impressed.

“Hardly, these are VIP accommodations. We were in crew quarters. Fortunately we had our own compartment, since the natives weren’t anxious to see a couple of Humans humping all the time.”

“Can you blame them?”

“It’s called the porn industry, buddy, and it’s quite popular, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Not on alien worlds…and between Humans.”

“Knock it off you two,” Adam commanded. “Our delaying tactic worked, so Jym could arrive at any time. We have to be ready when he does.”

“Unlike the weapons, the room locks are standard. They’ll be a piece of cake,” said Coop.

“You did notice that fleet of warships outside?” Riyad asked. “They could be a problem for Jym.”

“I’ve seen a hundred Juirean cruisers attack a single Colony Ship, and it still got away in one piece,” Adam countered.

“Yeah, but that was a CS manned by experienced Klin. Jym has a bunch of rookie Formilians at the controls.”

“I’m actually counting on the intimidation factor more than any real fighting taking place. But still, we have to help in any way we can.”

“What about Sherri and Kaylor?” Copernicus asked.

“I just hope they stay out of the way. There’s not much they can do on their own.”

* * *

Sherri and Kaylor had to do something on their own. They couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. The Klin saucer was in dark status and slowly coasting in closer to the massive research station. Sherri and Coop had spent a lot of time studying the facility and planning the best way to pull off the heist of the DMC. That involved gaining access to the device, stealing a starship and then getting away. As a result, she knew some tricks for getting in and out of the station. Whether or not they would work in this instance remained to be seen.

“Their security can’t be as high as it was when they had the DMC,” Sherri said to a skeptical Kaylor.

“Yet they have the device again,” Kaylor countered.

“As of a couple of hours ago. It takes time to make the adjustments. They can’t possibly be expecting someone to try to steal it again.”

“There will be proximity detectors,” Kaylor pointed out. “We cannot get in very close with the Davion.”

“I’ll go over in a spacesuit. I’ll be too small to notice. I need you to stay here and coordinate with Adam. We’ll be in range of the ATDs by then.”

“And what will you do when you get aboard?”

“Save the day, I imagine. That’s what I usually do.”

* * *

Two hours later, Kaylor contacted Adam through his ATD.

Adam, can you hear me?

The answer came back a moment later.

Yes! Where are you?

Two hundred thousand miles out and in dark status. We should be within transfer range in three hours.

It’s too dangerous. Stay back. I assume Jym is on the way.

Yes. The last update was four hours ago. He is close…I am sorry Adam, Sherri is speaking in my ear. She wants to know if you are all right and if you know what the Gracilians plan to do with you?

Tell her we’re fine, for the moment. Volic is anxious to give us the nickel tour. We’ll know more when that’s over.

What do you wish us to do?

Just get in close and stand by. We’ll do what we can to give Jym more time to get here.

Sherri is—

Sherri hit the back of the alien’s head, getting his attention. She put a finger to her lips.

“I do not understand.”

“It means be quiet.”

Are you okay, Kaylor.

Yes, Adam. I will stay in touch.

“He’ll get pissed if he knows what I’m planning,” Sherri explained.

“It is risky.”

She smiled. “It will be a surprise.”

25

Riyad and Copernicus were pissed. Apparently they didn’t rate the same attention from Volic as the famous Adam Cain. They were left in the stateroom while Adam was taken away to meet with the Gracilian leader. They could stay in touch with their ATDs, but still they were pissed.

Atop the large globe that made up the hub of the five-finger station was a smaller dome that served as the facility’s control center. Volic was waiting there for Adam.

Guards shackled him in arm restraints but left his legs free. The cuffs were locked with an electronic device, and Adam had to fight off a smile when he detected the Formilian controller inside the lock. So far, the only things not using Formilian technology were the weapons. That was a pretty big deal and something Adam and his team hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Mr. Adam,” Volic greeted with enthusiasm. “I apologize for not allowing you time to rest, but I assume you had enough during the journey here, after you set aside all your conniving.”

“No problem.” Adam looked around the room and the three-hundred sixty degree view it afforded. “This is very impressive. You must be proud of your station and the work being done here.”

Adam thought of all the SEAL training he had regarding dealing with captive situations such as this. However, the best lesson he’d ever learned came from the old James Bond movie Dr. No. What it taught was to stroke the bad guy’s ego, prompting a detailed tour of the villain’s secret lair so an escape could be planned. It worked every time—at least for Bond, James Bond. Volic seemed anxious to get the game started.

“Yes it is impressive, and I am anxious to show you more. Please come with me.”

The Gracilian took Adam through a dozen research labs, most located out at the far ends of the five fingers of the station, explaining the work being done in terms Adam could barely grasp. It’s not that he wasn’t smart enough; the residual effects of Panur’s brain cells gave him a little boost in that regard. It was that he didn’t care. He was just killing time before Jym arrived in the Colony Ship. As a consequence, he had to turn his head several times to hide the yawns from his host.

“This you may find interesting,” the alien said as they entered another large laboratory. The tour was achieving the desire effect; it was taking a hell of a long time. “This is where we are studying the other artifacts from the Zaniff asteroid field.”

Adam’s attention focused on the two, four-inch diameter light green metallic orbs resting in holders on a nearby counter. Volic stepped over to the station.

“These are the two Aris service modules that were found, similar to the one your daughter now has. We have opened them and studied the dark matter generators inside. Quite fascinating.” The alien smiled at Adam. He picked up one of the globes and held it in front of the Human. “These we will not allow you to steal.”

We’ll see about that.

Adam knew the units possessed a high-grade form of artificial intelligence, essentially making them alive in most regards. They also communicated primarily through telepathy. He attempted contact through his ATD.

Can you hear me? Adam asked the orbs.

He noticed an immediate warming in his head. The beings who built the personal service modules were more advanced than any race in the galaxy, either past or present, and the power the orbs possessed was incredible. The fact that he felt the sensation meant there was a connection, even if he got the impression he’d surprised the orbs. They were seeking understanding of the strange message they had just heard.

English…you are communicating in Human English?

That’s right. So you can hear me?

We can hear you yet do not understand how.

Scan my body. You’ll find a device embedded under the skin below my right arm. It links my mind with other entities, including Aris personal service modules.

You seem very well informed…who are you?

“Come, Mr. Adam,” said Volic, breaking Adam’s train of thought. “Let us continue with the tour. I wish to show you another interesting feature of this station.”

My name’s Adam Cain. I will contact you again. Until then, do not let the Gracilians know you can communicate.

That has been our intention as we have studied these primitive lifeforms. We now have another subject to study.

Adam was smiling as Volic led him out of the room, thinking how this changes everything.

26

Volic took Adam to the hanger bay were the Orion was stored. The rear loading ramp was down and the money truck missing. All that was left of the fortune in Juirean credits was the contents of the spilled crate on the deck of the starship.

“Besides the return of the DMC, I wish to thank you, Mr. Adam, for the credits you have donated to our cause. Every amount will help in our coming endeavor.”

Adam felt sick to his stomach. The guys aren’t going to like this….

The tour ended back where it began, in the central control dome.

“I am sure you noticed the fleet of war vessels in the space surrounding the station,” Volic said.

“Isn’t that a little odd for a bunch of scientists to have?”

Volic laughed. His race didn’t subscribe to the whole ‘bared teeth means death challenge’ thing and gave out a hearty chortle.

“We are much more than scientists, Mr. Adam. In fact, we are in the process of expanding our fields of endeavor into multiple areas, as I will demonstrate.” He moved to the encircling viewport and looked out to where three of the mighty battleships reflected distant light off their shiny new hulls. “You mentioned earlier how you worried that someone might acquire dark matter technology with the intention of building weapons. You were quite right to have such fear; however you did not have to look far. The truth of why we did not accept the offers we received for the DMC was because we wished to keep the technology for our own purposes, which includes weapons of war.”

“That’s no surprise,” Adam said.

“Indeed, your race is very perceptive when it comes to deception, the result of your own nature in this regard. In a way, that makes our two species very similar. And with the return of the DMC, we now have the impetus to put our ambitions into action. For that, I thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I think.”

Volic laughed. “You will not thank me when you learn of our plans.”

“Would your plans happen to include galactic domination? I’m just curious.”

“And what would you do with the power of dark matter…give it to others as an unlimited source of energy? Of course not. Humans would use the destructive power for their own gain, as would all predator species.”

“So you want to take over the galaxy. And why the hell would you want to do that?”

Volic was confused by the question. “Why, you ask? Because…because it is the galaxy! It means leadership and power for my people. It means fulfilling our destiny to rule over all who reside here. Why, Mr. Adam? Because we can.”

“And then what.”

Volic was having trouble answering questions he’d never been asked before. “Then we lead…we control.”

Adam shook his head. “You know how many times I’ve heard the same thing from would-be conquerors?”

“How many times?”

“I don’t know…a lot. But that’s not the point. I wonder why anyone would want to rule the galaxy? Have you seen it? It’s a real shithole in my opinion.”

“I grasp the comparison, but that matters not. The Gracilians will soon be known throughout the galaxy for our scientific genius, as well as for the power we possess. There will be none who will stand against our dark matter weapons. And we will have no need for a large military force to subdue the galaxy, only superior technology. There is no defense against dark matter. Star systems will bow to our will.”

“You sound like something out of a Star Wars movie,” Adam said, receiving the blank look from the alien he was expecting. But it was true. He’d heard the same speech a dozen times. And that was just on the silver screen. In person he’d heard it from Nigel McCarthy, the Klin, the Juireans, the Kracorians, the Sol-Kor, the Nuoreans…and now the Gracilians. He impressed himself that he could recall them all, and in order.

“Well, good luck with your ambitions, Volic. Everyone who’s come before you has failed. You’ll be no different.”

“That may be true, yet we have history on our side.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we have studied the failures of those in the past and have taken measures to correct those failures. We will succeed where others have not.”

“I’ve heard that one before, too.”

Volic’s dark face turned even darker from his building anger. “I am through having this circular conversation with you, Mr. Adam. It is time I explain fully how you factor into our plans. And it all began with your detonation of a dark matter cube on Woken.”

Adam tensed. He didn’t like that Volic was making him part of the Gracilian’s plan for galactic domination. That has never worked out very well for him in the past.

“Your miniscule annihilation event put the galaxy on notice of a new source of destructive energy. Regrettably, it was much too small for our purposes.”

“So you’re going to blow up something else, something big,” Adam stated.

“That is correct! I said you were perceptive. That is because you would do the same if you were in my place. Now the galaxy must be shown the true power of dark matter, not only to destroy a few grids within a city, but to destroy an entire planet. And you know which planet we have targeted?”

“Vulcan?”

Volic recoiled, his eyes blinking. “Vulcan? No, not Vulcan; I have not even heard of the planet Vulcan.”

“It’s where Mr. Spock comes from.”

Volic took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. “No, Mr. Adam, I am going to destroy your planet Earth.”

Adam contacted Riyad and Copernicus by ATD.

Standby guys, he thought. This suddenly got serious.

What are you talking about? Riyad asked.

I’ve just been told Volic intends to destroy the Earth.

Serves them right, after what they did to us.

Seriously?

Of course not; I still have a car there somewhere. It’s a classic by now.

So what are we going to do? Copernicus asked.

Not sure yet, still getting the details. Whatever he has in mind, he needs the DMC and he just got it back, so we may have some time. Standby.

That’s what we’ve been doing for the past two hours. Coop conveyed, frustration in his thoughts.

Volic was watching Adam, taking his long silence as shock at the news. “That is right, Mr. Adam. I will destroy the homeworld of the Humans, the most savage race in the galaxy.”

“I resemble that remark.”

“Why do Humans not take anything seriously?” Volic barked.

“Because I can’t take you seriously,” Adam barked back. “You’re sitting out here a thousand light-years outside the galaxy, with a handful of warships and one dark matter collector. How do you intend to destroy the homeworld of the Humans?” If Adam’s hands weren’t shackled, he would have put finger quotes around homeworld of the Humans.

Volic calmed down and smiled. Adam didn’t like that. He knew desperate people did desperate things. However, confident people made plans. Volic was looking very confident at the moment.

“How will I do it? It is already done.”

Adam turned pale and all the patience he had for the game he was playing with the alien vanished. “What the fuck are you talking about? You couldn’t…you didn’t.”

“Please, let me explain. We have been tracking the efforts to buy the DMC and came upon a Human who was involved in the bidding with the Gradis Cartel. His name is Brian Parker, and as you were chasing the DMC around the Frontier, I sent Mr. Brian a wondrous new device, a nine-cube configuration that can power the entire planet Earth forever…or at least as long as it survives. I also planted a detonation peg in one of the cubes, designed to trigger an explosive when I send a code. When I do, Earth will implode, to disappear as if it never existed. When that happens, the entire galaxy will take note. Where the Klin merely eliminated populations upon worlds, I will be a destroyer of worlds.”

“Then you haven’t sent the code yet?”

“And why would I do that without an audience? It is much more satisfying having someone who will be gravely impacted by an action to be a witness. You, Mr. Adam, will be my witness.”

The alien moved to a comm console manned by another Gracilian. “Establish the link with Earth,” he commanded. He turned back to a weak-kneed Adam Cain. “I was hoping for a more elaborate ceremony, but I believe now is the best time. I can tell I have your full attention.”

But the alien didn’t. Adam was frantically scanning the circuits to the CW communications station, looking for ways to disrupt the signal. If the connection was made, the signal from the research station would take less than a second to reach Earth.

He followed an active line up and out of the command dome. The circuit continued along the hub of the station to the only CW facility Adam could locate. The line terminated at a large vertical antenna array that was the transmission site. Adam began to sever every power connection he could.

Volic leaned over a keypad and entered a sequence. It was that quick. He stood up, smiled and turned to Adam.

“It is done. Your world is no more.”

“My lord,” said the technician. “The continuous wormhole system has lost power.”

Volic whipped around. “What do you mean?”

“The system is down.”

“Did the signal go out?”

“Not the CW signal.”

Volic glared at Adam. “What have you done, or more precisely, how did you do it? You have been with me continuously.” He turned to the comm tech. “Have the guards report on the location of the other two Humans.”

Adam stood with a thin smirk on his face, watching Volic melt down. When the report came back that Riyad and Copernicus were still in the stateroom, the alien lost all control. He stepped forward and slapped Adam hard across the face. He pulled back his hand and rubbed it, giving Adam the impression that Volic had never hit anyone before. Adam shrugged off the feather-like slap and continued to smile.

“My lord!”

“What is it now?”

“A contact has come on the screen. It…it is enormous. What is it?”

“That would be the Calvary,” Adam answered.

Volic studied the screen. He recognized the image materializing before his eyes. It was Adam’s Colony Ship. He turned to the three guards manning posts along the side of the command dome. “Shoot him! Kill all the Humans.”

Volic’s mouth fell open as he watched the shackles on Adam’s arms pop open and fall to the deck. Adam glared at the alien. He wanted to rip the Gracilian’s heart out, but first he had to dodge the incoming flash bolts from the guards.

Although Gracilians were tall and husky, they also had a thin bone structure, and in the light gravity of the research station they weighed about eighty Earth pounds. With Adam’s added strength, he was able to lift the comm tech from his chair and throw him at the guards. The aliens were using targeting computers in their weapons, and the movement of the tech through the air confused the sensors. Bolts lit off, but they hit the tech rather than their intended target. After that, Adam did some fancy broken field running to reach the first two guards. He threw his body into the pair, crushing bone and cartilage, before picking up a fallen bolt launcher and sweeping the room, taking out both guards and techs alike. The unfamiliar flash weapons were set at level-one intensity, with twelve bolts to a battery pack. That was impressive. As he fired, Adam questioned why the Gracilian-designed and Incus-built weapons weren’t more popular? This thing was fantastic.

Unfortunately, by the time Adam was done killing every alien in the room, Volic had escaped.

Hey guys, he said through the ATD. Our buddy Jym has arrived. And that little thing about Volic destroying the Earth…well that’s been handled, too.

My hero, replied Copernicus, the sarcasm coming through his thoughts loud and clear.

But Volic’s on the loose, so you might want to find the DMC and secure it before he gets to it. The last I saw, they had all the dark matter stuff out on arm number four. Go get it and then meet me at the Orion.

We’re on our way, Riyad’s voice said in his mind.

27

Adam locked down the command dome to keep any ambitious guards from making their way inside. He walked to the wraparound viewport and looked out. The Colony Ship was out there, dwarfing everything around it. He was reminded of the famous line from Star Wars—That’s no moon, it’s a space station. Although it was only twenty miles in diameter, this close to the research station, the damn thing did look like the Death Star.

There were flashes around the huge globe, as tiny dots of reflective light fired on the ship. Yet every time a bolt flashed out and hit the station, a dozen answering streaks of light targeted the source. This was the impressive defenses of the Colony Ship that Jym spoke of. It only took a few minutes for the attackers to realize the futility of their action and they retreated.

Adam, can you hear me?

Sure can, Jym. Welcome to the party.

Is there a party? Regrettably, I cannot attend, I am still in the Colony Ship.

I know that, and well done. Looks like the bad guys are bugging out.

Adam!

He heard Arieel’s thoughts in his head.

Hey babe. How’s it going?

Why are you so calm? Is there not a battle underway?

Not for much longer, at least not out there. Listen Arieel, I have to go now. I’ll be in touch when things are secure here.

There were still a large number of armed Gracilians on the station. Volic was also on the loose and there was no telling what he might do. Adam gathered up all the weapons he could find and left the dome.

There was wholesale panic in the station. Most of those who worked there were scientists—both Gracilians and Incus—and they were having no part in the battle. Adam always found the Incus to be funny looking creatures, shaped like five-foot tall ‘S’s’ with stubby arms and legs. But when they ran, it was like something out of a cartoon; legs a blur as they scurried along.

The scientists didn’t pay him any attention; the military troops, on the other hand, were part of the rush and mixed in with everyone else. Some made eye contact with him, which by then was too late. The panic level climbed considerably as Adam blasted guard after guard in the middle of the running crowd. And they were all running, for escape pods or to the arms. Adam felt the station jerk a couple of times, as the fingers broke off to become independent spaceships under chemical drive. Adam didn’t care about them. He let them go.

How are you guys coming with the DMC?

We got it, and it only cost the lives of about a dozen Gracilians, but they died with honor, said Riyad. So what happened with the whole Earth going kaput thing?

It seems our friend Volic sent one of those world-powering devices to Earth with a cube rigged to blow. He was all set to send the trigger code when I disabled the station’s only CW comm. He couldn’t get the signal out. Thank you very much, I’ll be here all week. Adam took a mental bow.

Wait a minute, Coop said. The concern in his emotions came through the mental link. You thought there’s only one CW facility on the station?

I only detected one.

Only one active facility. Each of the arms has a station that activates when the emergency protocols are initiated.

Like when an arm breaks away and flies off? Riyad asked.

Exactly.

You mean Volic could still send the signal?

If he gets to an arm and activates the emergency breakaway, Copernicus replied. And there’s one other thing. The main CW facility has a conventional relay backup system. It’s separate from the main system. If you shut off the main CW array that only means the signal went out conventionally.

Jym! Adam yelled through his ATD.

Yes Adam, said the little bear, annoyed. I can hear you quite loudly.

How long would it take a conventional wormhole signal to reach Earth from here?

Repeat please.

You heard me. How long?

Give me a moment. A few seconds later he came back into Adam’s mind. Six hours, why?

Adam ducked into a quiet passageway, free of the confusion and panic of the main corridor. He had to think. It had already been half an hour since Volic sent the signal. There was still time to warn Earth, but not much.

Riyad, get to the Orion. Use the ship’s CW link to contact General Sharp. You remember him?

Yeah, he’s the guy we stole the trans-dimensional starship from.

Tell him to find a man named Brian Parker. He has the device. It shouldn’t be hard to do. He has an ultimate power source and will probably be making a big deal out of it. Tell the general to get the device and separate the cubes. Then get them as far away from each other as he can. One of them is rigged to explode. And Riyad, we only have a little over five hours for all this to happen.

Understood. We’re on our way. But you need to find Volic. If he gets to a CW station, it won’t matter what we do. Earth would still be screwed.

Now go! I’ll find Volic.

28

Adam rushed off along the wide, curved hallway, passing panicking Gracilians and a few Incus scurrying along on their short legs. No one paid the Human any attention, more concerned for their own safety than what he was doing.

He found the entrance to the Number Two arm—the only remaining arm to the station—and rushed through the portal. The arm was about five hundred feet long and a dozen Gracilian scientists came racing away in the opposite direction.

Adam grabbed one and threw him against the wall. “Volic! Have you seen him?”

Confused and afraid, the alien answered without coaxing. “He passed moments ago.” Wide eyes shifted down the corridor. Adam released him and continued through the central passageway.

He passed through another portal, then stopped and turned when a loud rumbling came from behind. Two huge security doors rolled out from the bulkhead and clanged shut. On the other side of the door was a louder noise; that of explosive bolts going off. Gravity flinched for a moment before a blast of fresh air hit his face.

Half of the laboratory extension had just detached from the rest of the station and was racing away under a steady blast of chemical power. He moved farther along the central passageway, knowing that the end of the tiny spaceship was only about two hundred feet ahead of him. Volic had to be in there somewhere.

The end of the arm bulged out into a wide arc, with laboratories placed along the outer wall. All the doors were closed—

And that’s when he took a level-one bolt to the back.

The intense ball of plasma hit at an angle instead of straight on, but still it had enough energy to throw him to the floor with his back feeling like it was on fire. With a face painted in agony, he crawled on hands and knees for a side door just as another bolt splashed on the deck next to him. He fell against the door and it slid open. Another bolt hit the door frame, causing the electronics in the door to go crazy, jamming it open. He fell farther into the room.

He took one of the Gracilian flash weapons he had and began to fill the corridor with random bolts, fired in rapid succession. It would keep his attacker at bay, at least for the moment. But all he had to do was wait until Adam exhausted all his bolts, and then simply enter the room and shoot him dead.

Adam had one more trick he could try. He took one of the flash weapons, and with his Human strength, bent the barrel, collapsing the bolt-way. He triggered the weapon and then tossed it down the passageway. It only took a second for the pent up energy of the bolt to overload the system. The weapon exploded like a small grenade.

Fighting through the pain in his back, he crawled to the doorway and looked out. A Gracilian lay dead a few feet away. One of his legs was across the hallway and half the face was missing. Adam nodded. That worked.

He forced himself to stand and staggered back into the corridor.

A level-one blast to the center of his back should have been lethal. But it had hit obliquely, and the added toughness of mutant-enhanced skin also helped. As it was, he was badly hurt. He could feel broken ribs and his heart had been affected temporarily by the strong electrical shock, causing it to beat wildly. He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and feeling lightheaded. After a moment, the aching pain in his chest began to subside. He firmed his jaw and set off down the hallway. He had to find Volic before he could send the signal again. The fate of Earth depended on it.

The signal! It had to be sent through another CW link, and the equipment necessary was something he could track with his ATD. He made his way into another deserted room and sat on the floor, his shoulder against the wall rather than his burning back. His ATD was doing strange things at the moment, having been affected by the strong electrical shock of the level-one flash bolt. As he concentrated, he was receiving bright bursts of energy that filled his mental vision. This was not from any external source. The device was shedding excess energy to keep from burning out. Sherri’s ATD had been destroyed by a direct hit from a flash weapon. He prayed his wasn’t out of operation. He needed it more now than ever.

A moment later the mental flashes ended. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. He tested the unit on the local sliding door. He could identify the control module, displayed in his mind. And then it disappeared. He concentrated again, and only reluctantly, did the signal return, but only vaguely. His ATD was working, just not very well.

Adam reached out with his mental awareness and imagined running along the outer skin of the arm, now a fleeing spaceship many thousands of miles from the research station. He picked a number of flickering electronic signals, flickering from the sporadic nature of his ATD. But what he didn’t find was a CW array. Either Copernicus was wrong about each section having its own facility, or Volic hadn’t energized it yet.

Adam got up off the floor. If he couldn’t find the facility through his ATD, he would have to find it the old fashion way, by searching each room along the curve of the corridor. He stood up, feeling a little better now. The pain was still there but manageable. He began to cautiously open each door he came to.

He opened the fifth door and squinted into the darkness. Lights had come on automatically in all the other rooms he’d checked, but not this one. He moved to the side of the doorway just as he was greeted by a blinding flash and another burning pain, this one to his chest. He’d been shot again, but this time by a lower-intensity bolt.

The light burst on in the room and Adam spotted two Gracilian scientists holding flash weapons, with Volic behind them. He took aim with his bolt launcher and laid two quick shots into the chests of the aliens guarding their leader. Adam was just about to pull the trigger on Volic when he succumbed to the pain and collapsed to the floor. The Gracilian leader rushed forward and took the weapon from Adam’s numb hand and another from his waistband. Then he stood back and smiled.

“Are you going to live, Mr. Adam?” the alien asked cheerfully.

Although painful, the level-two bolt wouldn’t normally have had such an impact on a Human. But coupled with the effects of the level-one still coursing through his body, it was nearly fatal. Adam’s pain threshold was helped by the training his brain had received from Panur’s mutant cells, otherwise he would have given up by now. But he fought for consciousness, letting the importance of his mission give him strength. He got to his hands and knees, groaning from the effort.

Volic leaned against a computer console, watching Adam with undisguised satisfaction. “You have made a valiant effort, Mr. Adam. This adds credence to all the stories I have heard of you throughout the years. Yet, I am sad to say, you are at the end of your journey. I have your weapons and you are in no condition to oppose me. You are aware that the signal to Earth was sent out earlier, just by conventional means. That will still be enough for me to reach my goal. But now I will activate another CW station. You may—somehow—be able to override the system. But soon you will be either dead or unconscious. At that point I will simply reenergize the circuits and send my message. As with your unmasking of the DMC earlier, all your actions have served only to delay the inevitable. Now I will live on, as will all my plans for galactic domination.”

“Not so fast, asshole.”

The room was filled with a brilliant flash. When Adam’s already fading vision cleared, he saw the sizzling hole burnt in Volic’s chest. His eyes were open and his expression one of shock and confusion. His head bent over, just enough for him to see the blacked cavity. A hand reached up but never made it. His body crumpled to the deck.

Adam was fading fast, but he was sure he recognized the voice from behind him.

“Sherri?”

Soft hands were on him. “I’m here.”

“Here…how?”

“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s get you some help.”

She stepped to the energized CW station. He heard her speak but the words were muddled in his mind. He slumped face down to the cool metal of the deck, letting out a long breath as he did. Sherri was here. He would be fine.

And with that, Adam passed out.

29

When he awoke, Adam was in a hospital bed, covered in a light sheet and hooked up to IVs and monitoring equipment. He recognized the room as one of the many medical suites in the Klin Colony Ship. There was a familiar vibration coming from the walls and deck, telling him the ship was underway.

He glanced to his right and saw Arieel Bol in all her magnificent glory asleep in a chair at his bedside. He shifted his position slightly and grimaced from the pain coming from, well, everywhere. Arieel woke up.

“Adam, you are awake, how wonderful!”

“The Earth…what happened to the Earth?”

“Your planet, it survives. The message was received and acted upon. Riyad wishes to give you more details.” She ran to the doorway and called out to unseen people outside.

A moment later the room was filled with…everyone.

“So he survives another great adventure,” Riyad said through his trademark brilliant smile. “You know this is getting old. No one’s going to believe you can survive this many close calls.”

“Hey, I’m the hero. I’m supposed to survive.”

“Is that how it goes? I’ll have to remember that when I get my own series.”

“What happened on Earth.”

“I can tell you there’s a new crater in Arizona. General Sharp found our energy tycoon and confiscated the dark matter generator. They got the cubes separated, although they couldn’t tell which one was set to explode. It ended up being the one they placed in the desert near Winslow. I’m sure the dark matter crater will soon become the newest tourist attraction in the area.”

Sherri stepped up to the side of the bed and took his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot by a couple of flash bolts and nearly died.”

“That just about sums it up.”

“But you were there. How?”

“I came over from the Klin saucer in a spacesuit, hoping to lend you guys a hand. I sneaked in through one of the chem drive exhaust ports in the arm you were in. Coop and I discovered the way while figuring out how to get to the dark matter collector. I got there just before the damn thing broke away and fired up. I thought I’d really screwed up until I heard you blow up that Gracilian in the hallway. After that, I just followed the trail of blood until I found you.”

“And Volic?”

“Yeah, I never really liked him very much. Dude never even saw it coming.”

“Thank you,” Adam said, squeezing her hand a little tighter. “You saved the day.”

“I know. It’s what I do.”

* * *

A few days later, Adam was up and moving about. He made his way to the bridge where Jym and Kaylor greeted him. Jym left the room and returned a few minutes later with a small tub of vanilla ice cream.

“I am told Humans find recuperative benefits from this food. You will find that the Formilians have added an entirely new menu to the Klin food processors.”

Adam took the tub and dug in with a small metal spoon. He savored the sweet coolness, rolling his eyes and moaning with pleasure. It had been over a year since he had ice cream. He did feel better after the first couple of swallows.

“What ever happened to the money—the Juirean credits?” he asked his two alien friends.

Jym looked disappointed. “All we could recover was the loose chips on the deck of the Orion. The rest was moved to one of the Gracilian warships…which I inadvertently destroyed when it attacked the Colony Ship. If I had known, I would have spared the vessel.”

Kaylor stepped up and put a hand on his little Fulquin friend. “It was still over five million credits. That amounts to nine hundred thousand each. It is not eighteen million, but it will be enough to get the Colony Ship to Earth, if that is still your wish.”

“I was thinking I would give it to you. I would really like to get someplace with normal Earth gravity.”

“Where is that?” Jym asked.

“I was thinking about…Earth.”

Jym recoiled, embarrassed. “Yes, that would be a good choice.”

“What of your fugitive recovery business?” Kaylor asked.

“We can still do that, just by CW link.”

“Would you help cover the cost of operating the station?”

“Sure,” Adam said, placing a hand on the shoulders of both Kaylor and Jym. “After all, we are partners.”

Copernicus entered the room, a frown on his face, and ruined the moment for the three old friends.

“We still have to figure out what to do with the DMC?” he said. “I’ve come to agree with you; the technology is too dangerous to keep around.”

“Where is the DMC now?”

“In one of the cargo holds. C’mon, there’s something else I want to show you.”

As they made their way down one of the many long corridors of the Colony Ship, Adam said to Coop: “I haven’t had a chance to thank you. Your knowledge of the research station saved all of us. Without you Earth wouldn’t be around anymore.”

“I know that,” said Copernicus, almost bitterly. “And I’m never going to let you live it down, either.” He gave a furtive glance Adam’s way, a thin smile creeping across his face.

Adam smiled, too. “I would expect nothing less.”

They entered the large room, where a number of supply crates had been moved in to form table platforms. The dark matter collector and the two cases of loose cubes rested on one. Sherri, Riyad and Arieel were there.

And sitting on another crate a few feet away were the two Aris personal service modules.

Can you hear me? Adam asked through his ATD. The device had settled down after the excess energy had been bled away. It was working fine now.

“We can hear you,” came a masculine voice through side speakers in the room.

“I see you’ve learned how to tap into the comm system,” Adam said.

“We have always known how to do that. We just chose not to.”

Adam preferred speaking with the ancient entities this way. Mentally, they could read his emotions as well as his thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“After meeting you aboard the research station, we inquired with the Aris as to your identity.”

“You can communicate with the Aris?” Adam found this fascinating. There were only a handful of them left and they were off doing whatever three-billion-year-old aliens do when they’re immortal.

“Is that not obvious from my comment?”

“Of course. Sorry.”

“It was at that point we learned that you, and the Formilian Arieel Bol, were the Birth Parents of the Supreme Being. You call her Lila.”

“That’s true.”

“Although her body was not used to bring immortality to our masters, she was the culmination of a very long experiment by the Aris, a validation of their efforts. The Aris said we should assist you in any way we can.”

Adam looked at the DMC. “Good. Then maybe you can tell us how to get rid of that damn thing?”

“The accumulator? You wish it to be gone? Why would you not use it as the Aris used it, as a source of power?”

“Because we’re not ready for it,” Adam answered. “The Aris may have been able to use it simply as a power source, but the people of today will use it as a weapon.”

“We understand,” said another voice, this one feminine. “But we do not understand the difficulty. Simply destroy it if you wish.”

“But the cubes?” said Sherri. “Do you know a way to neutralize the effect?”

“What effect?”

Sherri buried her chin in her chest. “The big ass singularity it will create if we destroy it.”

“They do not know,” said the masculine voice, surprise in his synthetic voice.

“Know what?”

There was almost a chuckle through the speakers. It was definitely some kind of snide remark made by the orbs.

“We will have to explain,” said the female orb, sounding impatient. “The dark matter blocks only become charged when the particles are spinning.”

Everyone in the room waited for the orbs to continue. After ten seconds of silence, Adam spoke up.

“What does that mean? Are we supposed to come to some conclusion from that?”

“Further explanation is needed,” said the manly orb, joining in the impatience of his partner.

“Indeed.” The female globe continued. “While in the holders, both on the unit and in the transport cases, the surrounding material inhibits the spinning of the particles. Without spin, they have no charge. It’s only when they are removed from the holders do the particles acquire their valences. Only at that time do they become volatile.”

“Are you telling us the cubes are harmless if they remain in their holders?” Copernicus asked, incredulously.

“That is precisely what we are telling you.”

“What about their effect on gravity and communication links?”

“Those are harmless consequences of their state of matter. It is not dangerous.”

Adam cut to the chase. “So we can shoot this thing into the center of a star and it won’t create a supermassive blackhole?”

“Only if the blocks are removed first. However, if they remain in the holders, they will melt, along with the accumulator. It appears your concerns have been exaggerated.”

“The concern for destroying the coll—the accumulator—but not for the danger of the individual cubes,” Adam pointed out. “I still say we get rid of it.”

Everyone nodded their agreement.

“As you wish,” said the male orb, “although accumulators are easily constructed.”

“Maybe by you, but not us.”

“Would you like us to show you how?”

“No!” was the unanimous opinion of the living beings in the room.

Epilogue

It was the first snow of the season, and Adam stepped out from the warmth of the cozy log cabin to take in the crisp mountain air of the Tahoe Basin. Sherri, Copernicus and Riyad were inside, reaching the point where laughter and raised voices were required to overcome the effects of the spiced rum they were drinking. Adam was a little tipsy himself, although the freezing air and slight wind sobered him up quickly.

This was the six-month anniversary of their return to Earth after the dark matter affair. Adam had rented the cabin specifically for this occasion, even as he continued to search for a plot of land to build his new log home.

He smiled. Most of the nine hundred thousand Juirean credits were already spent. It seems the conversion rate from JCs to dollars wasn’t what it once was, and he was burning through cash faster than expected. Pretty soon he would have to return to the bounty hunting business. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to have money.

Kaylor and Jym were anxious for him to come back, too. The cost of running the Colony Ship was eating them alive. They needed a new source of income.

The snow white clouds parted in the clear air, revealing a patch of black sky filled with sparkling stars. Although these were only local suns, not more than a few hundred light-years away, Adam had been to some of them. There was life around those tiny dots of light, life that in one way or another had probably pissed him off sometime over the past twenty years. He smiled at the cynical thought—although it was true. But even through his cynicism, Adam could still hear the calling of the lights. He would be returning soon; that was just his fate in life. More adventures among the stars were in store for him and his friends, of that he was sure.

He thought again about a slogan for his galactic bounty hunting business. He had the perfect one, at least in his opinion. Others may question the message it conveyed, but they couldn’t deny the truth behind it:

Adam Cain…the alien with an attitude.

The End

More Adam Adventures Are Coming…

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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

Force of Gravity

Mission Critical

REV Warriors Series

REV

REV: Renegades

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.