Phantoms

The Human Chronicles Saga

Book #27

An Adam Cain Adventure

by

T.R. Harris

____

Copyright 2019 by Tom Harris Creations, LLC

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

The Lost Universe

The Immortal War

Destroyer of Worlds

Phantoms

Terminus Rising

The Human Chronicles Box Set Series

Box Set #1 – Books 1-5 in the series

Box Set #2 – Books 6-10 in the series

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

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

REV Warriors Series

REV

REV: Renegades

REV: Rebirth

REV: Revolution

REV: Retribution (coming soon)

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 FREE to members of Kindle Unlimited.

Contents

Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

The Continuation…

Author Notes and FREE BOOK OFFER

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Novels by T.R. Harris

Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

His story continues…

In the aftermath of the war with Kracion—the Mad Aris—Adam Cain and his team prepare to head out in a pair of trans-dimensional (TD) starships built by the genius mutant Panur. Their mission: Search for answers to Kracion’s disappearance. Did he plunge into the fiery depths of the star, to spend eternity paying for his crimes? Or was he rescued at the last second by the surviving Aris? If so, why? Will he face the punishment he deserves for the death and destruction he caused, or are Nunki and the others protecting one of their own? With the help of Panur and Lila, the team is out to find the answers.

In the meantime, Summer Rains and the Juirean ex-Overlord Tidus are returning to the Colony Ship from Zinnol with an injured Monty Pitts—when suddenly the ship is attacked by raiders. Miraculously surviving the attack, they steer their crippled starship to the nearest habitable planet, a hellhole called Sasin. This is where all the refugee rejects ended up after the mass exodus ahead of Kracion’s genocidal attacks. To call the inhabitants of Sasin dregs would be an insult to dregs everywhere. It’s simply the most dangerous place in the galaxy.

After Tidus makes a quick call to the Colony Ship, Adam is on his way to pick up the stranded trio on Sasin. It’s just a little detour. Afterward, he will meet up with the rest of the team in the second TD starship and continue with the mission. Little does he know, but Summer and the others are being hunted by flesh-eating inter-dimensional warriors, an anonymous evil being, and vicious Cartel members, as well as every creature on Sasin out to make a quick credit.

Adam’s trip to Sasin was supposed to be easy. Yeah, no such luck.

1

“There are six vessels, each maneuvering for intercept,” said the Juirean ex-Overlord Tidus Fe Nolan.

Monty Pitts hunched over the scope, a grimace etched on his grizzled face. “It shouldn’t be a problem,” he groaned.

“Why do you say that?” Summer asked her father. “There are six ships about to open fire on us. I would call that a problem.” She watched him carefully, seeing the agony on his face and the pain in his eyes. He’d spent most of the trip back to the Colony Ship from Zinnol laid out on a rack, nursing his wounds. This was the first time in weeks he’d been upright for any extended period. He wasn’t ready.

“Just look at the gravity signatures,” he replied cryptically.

“I don’t understand.”

“Each one is different. If they were military, they’d all be the same, and then we would have a problem, depending on the politics of the region. They could be out to destroy any enemy ships invading their territory. But these are raiders—probably the Gradis Cartel—made up of different kinds of starships, whatever they could find to make up their fleet.”

“And why is that better?”

“Because they will be after the vessel, little one,” Tidus explained. “They will not wish to damage their prize through its acquisition.”

Monty grunted, twisting in the chair while struggling to find a more comfortable position. “Yeah, we just need to show them we’re not going to give up without a fight. After that, they should move on.”

“I thought the Cartel was gone. Didn’t Lila do a number on them a while back?” said Summer.

Monty snorted. “She cut off the head of the snake. But crooks don’t suddenly go straight when their boss is killed. They reorganize and get back to work being crooks. And with all the crap that’s been happening in the galaxy recently, I would be surprised if the Gradis isn’t stronger now than they’ve ever been. Centralized military and police forces were devastated by Kracion and the Klin, but decentralized groups like the Cartel can survive just about any localized catastrophe. In fact, they thrive on chaos.”

Monty winced in pain.

“Are you all right?” Summer asked, leaning over and placing a hand on her father’s broad shoulder.

“I’m okay. It only hurts when I bend over… or breathe… or think.” His wry smile did nothing to ease Summer’s concern. It took a lot for the bear of a man to admit his pains—like a rifle barrel shoved through his abdomen by Kracion’s evil eight-foot-tall henchman, may the bastard rest in peace. Monty was healing, but it was taking longer than expected.

“They’re calling for us to shut down and prepare to be boarded,” said Tidus from the pilot’s station.

“So what do we do?” asked the diminutive twenty-two-year-old blonde.

Monty looked up at his daughter with sick eyes. “You’re going to have to man the weapons, Summer. We need Tidus at the flight controls, and I’m in no condition to work WEPS.”

“But I’ve never fired a flash cannon before.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be right next to you, telling you what to do. As I said, we just have to make a show of it. The Gradis won’t bother with us if they know all they’ll get is a shot up piece of junk in the end. And we might even take a few of them with us. After all, we have an Olympic Gold Medalist at the firing controls.”

“That was in Archery, dad, not in Competitive Energy Weapons Shooting.”

“Do they even have that event?”

For Summer, Monty’s painful smile/grimace was heart-wrenching.

“You shouldn’t even be up here. You should be in bed.”

“And miss all the fun? No way.”

“You better get her into position,” Tidus recommended. “Our attackers have split into two groups. One is moving ahead to slow us down. Be assured, Summer, all will work out. And recall, the FWV-140 is a Formilian Bokiss Class warship. It has substantial armament and defenses. I will attempt to keep our vessel aligned properly for optimal targeting efficiency.”

“I appreciate that because it’s going to take a lot more than beginner’s luck to pull this one off.”

Summer sat at the weapons station of the ship the crew had nicknamed the Forty—short for 140—while Monty sat in the secondary control seat. They strapped in, which was another activity that brought a twist of agony to Monty’s face. Summer noticed.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just concentrate, sweetie. This shouldn’t last more than a few minutes, and then I’ll get back to bed. I promise.”

Summer scanned the control console and triple screen layout on the bulkhead in front of her. “Okay, what do I do?”

“Since you’re new at this—and we have one gunner—we’ll only use the starboard battery. Tidus will keep us facing the enemy ships in that direction, so that will make it easier.” Monty pointed to the keypad to the left of the center control stick. “This is your target indicator and battery selector. You have two cannons on each side, and then one forward and one aft. Each cannon has two barrels. You can assign different targets to each barrel, but for now, we’ll keep them married so you won’t have to worry about that. The dual foot pedals on the deck are for selecting which cannon you’re using. Again, don’t worry about that. We’ll have both cannon focused on the same target.”

“So four bolts for each shot?”

“That’s right.” Monty tapped on the larger center screen. “The computer will paint each target. You use the keypad on the left to indicate which target you want the bolts to go to. The buttons below the main selector will zoom in and allow you to refine the targeting using the control stick. Since all bolts are ballistic in nature, you will have to lead the targets using the joystick, just like duck hunting back home. Remember?”

“I know about leading a target, dad. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I was a better shot than you back then, and I’m certainly a better one now. Nothing personal. Some of us just have it, and some don’t.” She smiled at the big man. “All I have to do is learn a new weapon system. Of course, this is a lot bigger than anything I’ve used before.”

Monty nodded, a proud smile on his face. What she said was true. Summer always had extraordinary eye-to-hand coordination.

“Tap the buttons to indicate a leading direction. The computer will calculate the speed and direction of the target, factor in our relative speed and direction and set the intercept point fairly accurately. The Formilians are the best in the galaxy with electronics, so you have a state-of-the-art weapons system at your command. So have some fun.”

“This ain’t no game, Daddy.”

“I know; just trying to lighten the mood. Now, the button on the backside of the stick is the firing control. All you need to do is place a few four-bolt barrages to the center of the targets, and that should make these Cartel bastards think twice about capturing the ship.” He patted her back. “You’ll do fine.”

“Seems like a lot of moving parts. I prefer my compound bow.”

“You should see the big boys operate a firing console. It’s like watching a conductor directing an orchestra, with feet working the pedals, fingers dancing over the keys and hands working the joystick. And this ship has dual weapons stations. We have to keep her away from the Gradis Cartel. She could be a real killer in the wrong hands.”

Monty tapped the screen again. “See, the computer already has the six ships in range and targeted. You can tab between them with the button on the left side of the joystick. I would target this one to begin with and send him a welcoming kiss.” He pointed at a location on the center screen.

Summer gripped the control stick, watching the circle on the screen jump from target to target as she pressed the side button. When it came to the designated bogie, she tapped a button on the keypad and the flashing circle locked on target. She had never been shy about taking the shot, either in archery or during her time on the D.C. SWAT team. She didn’t hesitate here, either.

The combatants were about ten thousand kilometers from one another, so the bolts—traveling at nearly the speed of light—took only a split second to reach their destination. Summer glanced at the side screens as data was displayed regarding the strike; the bolts hit the target and were absorbed by the diffusion shields. She expected nothing less. At least she’d hit—

Suddenly, the Forty banked hard left and angled up, the inertial compensators working overtime to keep the crew from being ripped from their safety harnesses. The comps were always a split second behind the action, especially during the most radical moves.

“What the hell, Tidus?” Summer yelled. She glanced at her father. He spit out an agonizing scream and clenched his teeth, his bear-like arms gripping the armrests, trying to steady his body. Blood already stained his shirt where staples were ripped from his still-healing wound.

“Incoming! Prepare yourselves,” Tidus called out from the pilot seat.

Summer looked at the screen on her right. It showed solid lines of white—at least twelve of them—coming from the six Cartel vessels and focused on the Formilian starship. Tidus had the Forty in a tight spiral, racing up and out of the circle formed by the enemy ships. It wasn’t going to be enough.

Alarms blared, and lights flickered as the diffusion screens took in an excess of energy from the bolts. The shields were arranged in panels, so there were still gaps between them. Several of the bolts either passed by the panels cleanly or were sheared off by the energy screens before continuing to the hull in a weakened state. Summer felt the hair on her head and arms stand up from the sudden influx of static electricity in the air. The ship was bleeding off the excess energy, disbursing it throughout the hull. It was a last ditch effort to keep the shields up. Another barrage like that and they would surely fail—all of them.

“I thought you said they didn’t want to damage the ship?” Summer yelled over the din of the alarms and creaking hull.

“This is highly unusual,” Tidus remarked.

“You’re both so full of shit!”

“Your pardon, young one!” the Juirean yelled out.

“Relax, Tidus, it’s a compliment,” Monty groaned.

“I know otherwise!”

“Summer, start firing,” her father ordered. “Shoot… anything!”

Summer was a step ahead, already cycling through the targets and unleashing bolts into the cold vacuum of space. In her rush, she forgot to lead the targets, resulting in most of her shots falling far to the rear of the moving spaceships. Another answering barrage of killer track lines was on its way from the Cartel vessels.

The Forty was quick and agile, the latest Formilian design. Unfortunately, the flesh-and-blood bodies inside were not built for the stress. When the internal gravity went down—and with it, the inertia compensators—everyone was tossed about like rag dolls, the wide straps of the seat restraints the only things keeping them from being battered to a pulp against the hard metal bulkheads. Monty passed out, the exacerbated pain of his prior injury too much to bear.

Summer did her best to keep up a steady rate of fire. She was pleased to find she was getting the hang of the controls. In fact, she had reached a point where her mind canceled out the distracting sounds and confusion of the pilothouse, her vision singularly focused on the forward tac screen. Her eyes never wavered, not even to glance at the keypad to her left. She knew the controls intimately, better than she should at this point. Now it was her fingers dancing on the pad, locking targets, zooming in and identifying weak points in the enemy defenses, conducting the orchestra like a maestro. She began to work the foot pedals, separating the cannon barrels and allowing for the discharge of four bolts at a time aimed at multiple targets.

One of the enemy ships exploded, an indicator on the right-hand screen showing the graphic.

“Excellent shot, Summer!” Tidus complimented. “I will move us to the left and then swing back. Prepare to engage the target designated K-3.”

The Juirean had a small representation of the targeting computer at his station, allowing him to work in concert with the gunner. He guided the warship over, and Summer opened fire. There were more incoming bolts, but instead of targeting the ships firing the weapons, she locked on the bolts themselves. She fired. It was a phenomenal feat, hitting incoming bolts with bolts of her own. Blinding light filled the pilothouse as the plasma balls met and splattered in brilliant, short-lived flashes.

Next, she lined up on the nearest enemy vessel. At the relative speeds of the two ships, she had to be especially tight with her leading. She pulled off another amazing shot, threading between the two main portside diffusion shields on the Cartel ship and burning a hole through the side hull. It didn’t explode, but lost power and fell out of the fight.

Even before Tidus could line up another target, Summer disabled a third enemy ship, placing two direct hits to its rear gravity generator nodes.

“Bring us around,” Summer said to Tidus. “Head directly toward the one in front of us.”

“But your weapons will not be aligned.”

“I’ll use the forward battery.”

“You know how to access it?”

“Yes! Just do it.”

Tidus obliged, and a moment later the two vessels were racing toward one another at many thousands of kilometers per hour, playing a deadly game of chicken.

“I will steer off in ten sec—”

“No, stay your course. I have this.”

The Cartel ship had a formidable diffusion shield protecting its nose, just as the Formilian vessel. Summer didn’t care. She lined up and fired a quick succession of six bolts from the forward turret, each aimed at the center of the enemy shield. But she staggered the shots, each a split second behind the other.

Now they hit the screen, instantly absorbed and diffused as the system did its job. But the bolts kept coming. By the fourth hit, the shield was overloaded and shut down, leaving the bow of the Cartel ship exposed to the next two bolts.

The flash from the explosion once again filled the cockpit of the Formilian vessel. She checked her screen for another target, disappointed when she saw the two rapidly fading energy signatures of the remaining Cartel ships bugging out.

She didn’t wait for things to settle down before slapping the center release buckle on her safety harness and lifting herself from the chair in the zero gravity. The internals were offline—maybe for good. She unstrapped her unconscious father and pulled him into the air. A moment later—with one hand gripping Monty’s shirt and the other pulling them along the ceiling—she headed aft to Monty’s stateroom.

She lay her father on the bed with securing straps to hold him in place; then she ripped open his bloody shirt. His lower abdomen was covered in blood, the previously sewn-up wound hidden by the thick coating of red liquid. She glided out into the corridor, where she pulled an emergency first aid kit from the wall. A few minutes later, she had the wound cleaned and a thick pad of gauze taped across his stomach. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Half the staples had come out, but the others held. The blood was bright red, as well, indicating that none of the repairs to his internal organs had ruptured. She gave him a shot of Human-compatible pain killer before drifting away again, holding herself secure to an overhead stanchion, gazing down at her unconscious father.

Tidus appeared at the doorway.

“How is he?”

“He’s okay. It looks worse than it is. I’m going to replace the staples with some of that fancy sealing gel in the kit. It’s supposed to be non-toxic to Humans.”

“That it is,” the Juirean confirmed.

Summer looked at the alien. “Are they gone?”

Tidus nodded. He gave Summer a very Human-like grin. “I believe they were surprised by your expertise at the firing controls. I admit, as was I.”

“It just made sense after a while. But we also got lucky.”

“Lucky, indeed. And skill, obviously. I know you are proficient with an arrow device, and even smaller energy and ballistic weapons. But your targeting and execution of the flash cannon were… I am having difficulty finding the right description.”

“Thanks,” Summer said, embarrassed by the alien’s awkward attempt at a compliment. “How’s the ship?”

The question brought a sour look to the narrow, light green face of the Juirean. “Not well. There are multiple hull leaks which we have no means of repairing. One generator is offline, probably permanently, and as you can tell, the internals are not functioning again, something I will not be able to repair.”

“Can we call the Colony Ship and get someone out here to pick us up?”

“Unfortunately, the first strike sheared off the Continuous Wormhole communication array from the top of the hull. We have standard comms, but not CW. It will take too long for a signal to reach the Colony Ship before our atmosphere runs out. As an alternative, I have done a quick survey of the surrounding space. There is a planet within range.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic.”

“It is a world called Sasin.”

“Do you know the place?”

Tidus nodded. “I do, from my time with Priority Acquisitions. It is a lawless planet that recently has become even worse.”

“Worse? Why?”

“The refugees,” Tidus said. “As Kracion and the Klin cut their path of death across the galaxy, refugees flooded into space and sought protection on a hundred worlds.”

“I know that,” Summer said. “I was there, remember?”

“Then as you know, the powerful and the wealthy were able to find permanent refuge among the more elite worlds of the Expansion, and to a limited degree, within the Human Union. However, the others—the common people, the workers on ships between worlds and the former military with nowhere to go—have had a harder time finding planets that will accept them. Some have managed, but the ones which no one else will allow in have come to Sasin. The planet was a disgusting cesspool before. Now I suspect it has become the most dangerous place in the galaxy.”

“And Sasin is our only option?”

“Yes.”

“But we’ll be able to call Adam when we get there, right?”

“That should be possible. We do have credits, for as long as we can keep them. I will study Sasin more thoroughly during our transit to the planet. It is three days away, utilizing the shallow gravity well we can muster after the damage. But I must warn you. By then, we will be confined to spacesuits for breathing. We should begin our preparations. It will not be a pleasant three days.”

2

Arieel Bol lay naked on the beach in all her breathtaking glory while leaving nothing to the imagination. Adam Cain shifted self-consciously next to her, trying to maintain his composure. Even though he’d opted for swim trunks that morning, he still felt as if every eye on the beach was watching him. He was living in a fishbowl, in a Hell of his own making.

“Why take clothing into the water?” Arieel had asked that morning when she saw what he was wearing. “They will only get wet.”

Adam couldn’t argue with her logic, especially since that seemed to be the prevailing attitude of the creatures on the alien beach, as no one but Adam was wearing, well, anything. Arieel basked in his discomfort.

“You must be accepting, Adam Cain,” she said, a wicked smirk on her full, pouty lips. “On Formil, we have a more open acceptance of our bodies, as well as the act of lovemaking.”

That was obvious. Adam looked beyond the few guards who stood nearby, securing a small section of the beach for the Speaker of the Formilian People and her consort. There were dozens of unbelievably gorgeous native hunks and babes beyond the cordon, lounging, cavorting or otherwise engaged in open acts of a sexual nature. No one seemed to care.

Maybe if I looked like them, I wouldn’t care either, Adam thought. Each of the Formilians—male and female—were prime examples of their gender, perfectly proportioned, incredibly fit and tinged with a light bronze skin tone that defied the burning rays of the Formilian sun.

“With the Mad Aris defeated, you must allow yourself the opportunity to relax,” Arieel said, causing him to return his attention to her stunning… everything. “Our vacation will soon come to an end, and we will return to our appointed responsibilities. We must make every moment count.”

Looking at the wonder that was Arieel Bol didn’t help Adam relax. Quite the contrary. He blinked several times while his mouth hung slack. It was like this every time he gazed upon the amazing creature commonly referred to as the Most Beautiful Prime Female in the Galaxy. Adam had to admit the title had merit, even though Arieel was over a hundred Formilian years old, middle-aged for her species. She was the face of Formil, the leader of the planet, and the person most associated with the race. However, looking along the beach at the younger versions of Arieel frolicking in the sand and surf—as well as otherwise engaged—Adam could detect subtle differences. He didn’t care. Arieel Bol was still a work of art—his work of art—of which he was intimately familiar with every brush stroke, every sensual detail.

Adam was no spring chicken himself—but, unlike Arieel, he showed it—which only added to his insecurity. He was grateful—as well as a little perplexed—that Arieel still found him appealing, especially in light of the reality that was flaunting itself nearby. Formilian males—every last one of the bastards—were more male than Adam, and they weren’t shy about showing it. Maybe that was why Arieel worked him so hard when they were alone? He had a lot of compensating to do.

“I’m trying to relax, Arieel,” Adam grumbled. “It’s just that I’m not as comfortable as all of you seem to be out here in the open.”

“You are a fine Human specimen, my love,” she consoled. “You should be proud.”

Adam spied a young Formilian couple as they strolled by. He sighed as Arieel giggled. “I prefer skill and experience over raw exuberance,” she said coyishly.

Raw exuberance, yeah, right.

Adam was just thankful Arieel had given him a chance to catch his breath. For the past four days, the pair hadn’t left their room at the tropical resort in the equatorial latitudes of Formil. Arieel wouldn’t let them. Having survived the harrowing war with Kracion—the Mad Aris—each deserved time off, if only to deflate, relax and enjoy each other’s company. But Arieel had a strange way of relaxing. If it hadn’t been for Adam’s enhanced strength and stamina—thanks to the residual effects of his recent mind-meld with Panur—all this relaxation might have killed him. Acknowledging her insatiable sexual appetite, Arieel offered him a day off to lounge in the sun, swim in the crystal clear waters of the bay, or otherwise regain his strength. He would need it. There were another three days left before he was due back on the Colony Ship.

As Arieel lay back again, with none of her assets sagging even a bit to either side or up and down, Adam took another look at the people on the beach, convinced they were watching his every move. Nearly all were Formilians since the shock of Kracion’s horrific tenure was still being felt throughout the galaxy. Leisure travel wasn’t something most species were ready to resume, leaving the tranquil and picturesque strip of white-sand beach and its five-star resort to natives and their guests.

As before, no one was watching Adam—the lone Human on the beach. No one cared.

That’s when Adam spotted him. He was about half a kilometer away, seated in the shade of one of the open-air bars closer to the main resort. If it hadn’t been for Adam’s enhanced eyesight—thanks again to the mind-meld—he would have missed him. But there he was, a short creature with a pair of electronic binoculars, looking down the beach at him and Arieel.

Adam cringed at the sight of the alien. He’d only experienced this race once before, with a prominent scar along his lower left side as a reminder. They were called Holaconese, and they were color-shifters. It had been nearly twenty years before, on the planet Zyrum-4, but still, the memory was vivid.

At the time, Adam witnessed a Holaconese spy take a direct hit to the side of his head from Riyad’s fist and snap right back. That didn’t happen, not with aliens. These bastards were tough. And that was only the first surprise the four-and-a-half-foot-tall alien held in store for him. When Adam lifted the creature to question him, he discovered Holaconese sported a second set of small arms positioned at mid torso. The knife held by the hidden hand barely missed Adam’s spleen.

Arieel said the scar was sexy. But that’s what she said about the other dozen or so souvenirs decorating his body.

Adam pretended to casually scan the beach while keeping an eye on the alien. From his overt use of the binoculars, it was obvious he felt secure that Adam couldn’t see him at this distance. And Adam was the target; that was clear since the creature wasn’t moving the spyglass along the shore, taking in the more glorious sights found thereon.

Adam rolled over and kissed Arieel. “I’ll be right back.”

As he went to stand, she pulled him onto her cushy breasts.

“Do not start something you are not willing to finish,” she purred, keeping his face and lips close to hers.

“Really, I’ll be right back. I need to check on something.”

“Do not be gone long. You have once again ignited my internal flames.”

Adam felt like a jerk when he stood up, thinking, really, not again? What was wrong with him? He sighed, looking down at Arieel’s gorgeous body. Too much of a good thing can definitely be hazardous to one’s health.

Adam scooped up his facemask and moved toward the lapping shoreline of the crescent-shaped bay. The water was warm and clear. He wetted the lens before spitting onto the interior plate. Then he rinsed it again and slipped it over his head.

After a few steps, he dove under the surface, reveling in the welcoming embrace of the ocean. To the Southern California native and former Navy SEAL, it felt like home. He came up once, took in a deep breath, and then dove under again.

He kicked and moved deeper toward the white, sandy bottom, which was occasionally dotted by beds of seagrass waving in the light current. There was a myriad of sea life around, with the same abundance of colorful fish as found on Earth. It was easy for him to forget he was on an alien world nearly nineteen thousand light-years from his home.

He kicked with his newfound strength, picking up speed while turning north and paralleling the shoreline. Another of the consequences of his recent mind-meld was he could now hold his breath for nearly ten minutes. He’d discovered this ability earlier in the day and was mesmerized by the freedom he felt staying under for so long without tanks or even a snorkel. As his legs moved, propelling him forward, Adam felt more a part of the sea than ever before.

He continued underwater for several minutes until he came to one of the small volcanic islands that dotted the shallow bay. This one was just past the row of bars and restaurants outside the back entrance to the resort and about fifty meters out in the water.

He surfaced. The spy was still in the shade of the bar, but now he was standing, using his binoculars to scan the waters out from where Arieel lay. Adam had submerged, and as far as the alien knew, hadn’t resurfaced. His target was out of sight, and the spy was beginning to panic.

Adam moved toward the shore alligator-style, with just the top of his head breaking the surface. When his knees and hands reached the sandy bottom, he continued to crawl along until he had no choice but to stand up. He put a foot forward onto the sand—and froze.

His foot—something wasn’t right. He took another step. Both his feet were like this.

Tiny crescents of skin grew between his toes, forming webs; yet as he watched, the skin began to recede. A moment later, his feet were back to normal.

Adam nodded, knowing what was happening. Panur—his five-thousand-year-old, immortal mutant genius friend—was also a shapeshifter. His longevity was a result of his ability to instantly regenerate his cells, and as a consequence, Panur could direct those cells into just about any form he wished. Several years back, he’d even impersonated Adam during a gladiator fight with a Nuorean warrior.

Adam was light-years away from being able to do that. But still, he had a little shapeshifting ability in him. He smirked. A little skin between his toes—he wasn’t impressed, especially since he hadn’t made a conscious decision to turn his feet into swim fins. That was something his subconscious did on its own. He took a quick mental inventory of his newfound abilities; they didn’t add up to much. Sure, increased strength, durability and endurance helped. But enhanced hearing, eyesight, and the ability to hold his breath for a long time—and now this. He was still a long way from becoming Superman.

Adam moved swiftly across the warm sand to the nearest bar, coming up behind the spy. The tiny alien’s attention remained fixated on the water beyond the shore. His target was out there, somewhere. He was sure of it.

Pulling a decorative fishing net from the wall of the bar, Adam stepped up behind the spy. He knew these things were tough and shifty. He wasn’t taking any chances.

Adam threw the net over the alien, then tossed aside the table at which he’d been sitting. He swept a leg and knocked the spy off his feet. Grabbing the bottom of the net, Adam pulled tight, wrapping the course strands around the struggling creature. Next, he took a chair and planted it over the alien, the legs threaded through the net and buried into the sand, pinning the squirming creature in place.

The Holaconese screamed out in protest, his main set of arms jutting through the netting and waving in terror. Adam sat on the chair.

“Assault! Assault! Summon the authorities,” the creature screeched.

Adam looked around at the gathering crowd of curious stark-naked Formilians and smiled. If there was anywhere in the galaxy where his face was recognized, it was here. He was the very public consort of the Formilian Speaker and had lived in the system aboard the Klin Colony Ship for several years. They knew him as the famous Adam Cain, Savior of the Galaxy, and if he wanted to wrap a color-shifting alien in a net and then sit on him, who were they to interfere? Most moved on, minding their business.

“Why are you spying on me?” Adam asked the still struggling alien.

“I…I was not spying on you. I am offended by the accusation.”

“Cut the bullshit. Who hired you?”

Adam knew Holaconese were highly sought-after covert spies, based on their ability to blend into a variety of backgrounds, becoming essentially invisible.

“I was not spying on you; I have no employer.”

Both Adam and the alien were now in the full light of the Formilian sun, and the Holaconese appeared to be in distress. His once shimmering skin—along with his accompanying clothing with the same chemical properties—was shifting much too swiftly and without a pattern. He wasn’t blending with the sand, nor the blue of the sky. Adam leaned over closer, mesmerized by the chaotic colors.

A few drops of water fell from Adam’s wet hair, landing on the forehead of the color-shifter. A ring of white radiated out from where each drop landed and the alien yelped with pain.

“Water hurts you?” Adam asked, incredulously.

“No. Not the water. It is the refractive quality of the light through the droplets. It magnifies the effect and overloads my color receptors. Please move me back into the shadows.”

“I might…if you tell me who hired you to spy on me.”

“Again, I reiterate, I am not spying on you.”

Adam shook his head, sending a shower of salty rain onto the alien. He cried out again in pain.

“I will tell you nothing!” the creature yelled.

They are tough little bastards, Adam thought.

Adam reached down and took the bottom of the netting into his hands.

“Have it your way,” he said. “Maybe a little dip in the ocean will change your mind.”

He began to drag the net-encased alien toward the water, leaving a smooth trough in the sand along the way.

“No! Stop! You must not.”

“Then tell me what I want to know.”

They were only a few feet from the water when the alien gave in.

“I will tell you!”

Adam stopped pulling and looked down at his captive, waiting.

“In the shade.”

“No, now, or we’re going for a swim.”

“Panur! It was Panur.”

Adam frowned. “Panur? He hired you to spy on me?”

“Please, take me to the shade. I will explain.”

Adam obliged, and a few seconds later, they were back near the bar and under the protection of a large, colorful canvas awning. Adam kept the alien wrapped in the net.

“All right, why is Panur spying on me?”

“I do not know. I simply provide raw video footage of you while on Formil. I relay this to Panur. He does with it what he wishes. You know the mutant. He is quite powerful and convincing. I do only what he asks.”

Adam twisted his face into a scowl. Of course, Panur would be watching him, wanting to keep track of any strange abilities he may develop. But to hire someone to keep an eye on him, that was uncalled for. Then something dawned on him: This was Adam’s first day on the beach.

“Were you making videos of me in the room as well?”

The alien hesitated. When Adam gripped the netting tighter, a threat to pull the spy back into the sunlight, he spoke up. “Yes. I installed multiple cameras in your room. Again, I make no judgment as to what is pertinent or not. I forward all recordings to Panur.”

So, Panur had four days of Adam and Arieel’s very graphic sex tapes. And he undoubtedly showed them to Lila as well, providing Adam’s daughter with hours of footage of her mother and father getting it on. Adam grimaced. He knew Lila had been raised more Formilian than Human and shared many of the customs and beliefs of her more-liberated mother. That was good, to a degree. But still, he was embarrassed.

“Throw out your weapons, and I’ll let you go,” Adam said to the Holaconese spy. The alien accepted payment to do a job; Adam couldn’t fault him for that.

A moment later a small MK laser pistol landed on the sand outside the net. Next came a four-inch knife. That figures, Adam thought. Their weapon of choice. But then another knife joined the pile, along with a pencil laser, a stun wand, another knife and a miniature flash dart.

Where the hell did he keep all that stuff?

“Is that it?”

Another object landed in the sand, something that looked like a set of brass knuckles.

“That is all.”

Adam stepped back and let the alien extricate himself from the netting. Once free, he bent down to pick up his weapons.

“They stay here,” Adam snapped. “Now, go before I really get mad.”

The spy scurried off.

Adam picked up the assortment of weapons and carried them to a nearby trash bin. He tossed them inside.

Adam was fuming by this point, upset that Panur didn’t trust him enough to report the manifestation of any new abilities. He moved down the beach, back to Arieel and the line of guards protecting their leader.

The Formilian sentry frowned. He looked behind him to the empty blanket next to the dozing Arieel and then back to Adam approaching from outside the restricted area. Adam stepped up to him.

“Do you have a communicator?”

He handed the device to Adam.

“I’ll only be a second.” Adam stepped away and opened a link with the Colony Ship. He looked up into the tropical sky, noticing the bright dot that was the station far above, visible even during the day.

“This is Adam Cain; I need to speak with Panur.”

A Formilian crewmember aboard the space station set out to locate the mutant. A few moments later, Panur’s face was visible on the tiny monitor.

“You have discovered my agent,” the mutant stated without embarrassment.

“Of course I did,” Adam barked. “I said I would let you know if anything major showed up. You didn’t need to record my every move.”

“I may be able to notice things you could not, my friend. Truly, what I did was not intended as a slight. I will call off the others. You will have your privacy.”

“Others? You mean that color-shifting bastard wasn’t the only one?”

“Your powers may manifest at any hour. I needed a team of operatives to cover you effectively.”

Adam’s shoulders slumped. “And the videos, who’s seen them?”

There was the slightest hesitation from the mutant.

“Only those with a need to know. Or an interest.”

“An interest! Lila?”

“Yes.”

“Sherri?”

“Yes.”

“Copernicus?”

“He was most anxious to view them until Sherri put a stop to it.”

“And, of course, Riyad.”

“He has requested copies.”

“Why didn’t you just broadcast them across the whole friggin’ galaxy?”

“That would not have been appropriate.”

Adam shook his head. “I’m cutting my vacation short. I can’t trust that you won’t bring in another crew to replace this one.”

“There is no need. Besides, Arieel will be heartbroken.”

But I’ll be able to get some rest, Adam thought. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“If you insist. But it seemed as though you rather enjoyed the vigorous workout sessions with our enthusiastic Formilian friend, although at times we worried for your wellbeing. Are the Formilians not a stimulating and energetic race, so full of sexual creativity, as we have both experienced firsthand?”

“That’s my daughter you’re talking about, dickhead,” Adam exclaimed. Panur and Lila had been an item for a while, but that didn’t make it easier for Adam to swallow. Then he focused in on the tiny, featureless gray face of the mutant and scowled, fighting against images of a graphic sexual nature invading his imagination. “Eww. You’re disgusting.”

“Me?” Panur flashed a perverted grin. If he had eyebrows, he would have fluttered them most lasciviously.

Adam snapped the communicator shut and tossed the device back to the Formilian guard. The native batted it around for a while before dropping it into the sand.

3

Adam’s ears still rang from the tongue-lashing Arieel gave him when he said he was cutting his vacation short and returning to the space station. He promised he would make it up to her, but that would depend entirely on how quickly he recovered from his current vacation.

The shuttle slipped into one of the vast receiving bays of the Colony Ship—a vessel he had only recently christened the Behemoth. He’d grown tired of calling the Colony Ship the Colony Ship. The aliens were okay with that. In fact, they preferred to call it the 74-K3, which is what the Klin called it. That designation had never caught on with the Humans who lived aboard the massive vessel, and since Adam was now the official owner of the station, he made an executive decision concerning the name. Besides, he liked the sound of Behemoth. One couldn’t say it without it sounding, well, huge. It also reminded him of a simpler time; a time when he first read about the adventures of the starship Behemoth in the space opera novels of Michael Freeport. That was before there were real aliens and real starships. In a way, he longed for the blissful ignorance of that time, before the fate of planets and galaxies rested on his shoulders. Sure, he was being melodramatic. But in his case, it was true more often than not.

He took a golf-cart-like transport to a nearby construction bay, where his team and the mutants were hard at work on the two trans-dimensional starships Panur had designed. Everyone was there when he entered. His temper reignited when he encountered the sly smiles and snickers of Sherri, Riyad and Copernicus. Lila and Panur hid their emotions behind masks of stoic indifference.

“Welcome back, stud,” Sherri jibed. “You look… well rested.”

“Knock it off,” he said to the vivacious blonde. Then he pointed at the two lecherous men. “And you two, you’re just jealous.”

Riyad threw up his hands. “I concede, my friend,” he said, flashing his trademark white smile. “However, I prefer my lovemaking to be an act of tenderness and affection, not a cage-match wrestling contest. You are a better man than me to have survived to talk about it.”

“I’m not talking about it—ever again. You got that?”

Each of his friends gave him bows and prayer hands of forgiveness, apologizing profusely, if disingenuously.

Adam shot an angry look at the tiny grey mutant. “See what you started? I hope you’re happy.”

“To be honest, I am,” Panur said. “Every chance I get to study Human emotional interaction is a treat.”

Adam’s extended middle finger gesture was well known to the alien. Panur shrugged it off and returned to work.

Adam moved on as well, shifting his attention. He looked at the pair of sleek, metallic blue starships dominating the vast chamber. They were incredible looking vessels, each about a hundred meters long by thirty wide. They didn’t carry the bulbous twin gravity generators at their sterns like most other ships; rather, they had only modest deformations for more compact grav-drives. These were trans-dimensional starships which moved through space by jumping between universes, able to cover vast distances faster than any conventionally powered craft. They didn’t need huge generators to create deep gravity wells, only compact interior units to provide basic maneuvering upon arrival at a transit point.

This also made the interiors roomier than other ships of comparable size. For a luxury vessel, that was a bonus. But Panur had designed these ships with combat in mind. The mutant genius had equipped the ships with an array of cutting-edge weapons and defenses, a habit he’d acquired during his recent arms race with Kracion. The ships—designated Sansa and Arya after the two Stark daughters from George R. R. Martin’s classic A Song of Ice and Fire novels—were simply the most powerful spacecraft in the galaxy. Panur was hoping they would be the most powerful ships in any galaxy the team visited. Not that they were looking for trouble, but on the mission they were planning, they had to be ready for every eventuality. Where they were going, there would be no backup.

The mission was to follow the faint—yet distinctive—trail of the Aris starship that was presumed to have saved Kracion at the last minute from crashing headlong into the fiery hell of his prison-star. From the moment the screens flared, and contact was lost with the pod carrying the Mad Aris, the mutants were planning the mission. They were desperate to learn Kracion’s fate. Was he cast into the star, or did the Aris rescue him? And if they had, what were their plans for him?

Although answering these questions was the primary objective of the mission, Adam felt Panur and Lila were equally curious about the immortal Privileged Aris themselves. There were fifteen of them, and no one knew what became of them since attaining immortality. The mutants were curious what plans they may have for the Milky Way if any?

For Adam, his primary goal was to make sure Kracion wasn’t coming back—nor any of the other Aris. He’d had enough of the scrawny three-billion-year-old creatures to last a lifetime.

“Are you ready to get back to work and lend us a hand?” Copernicus asked, a scowl on his face. “You picked a hell of a time to take a vacation. We launch in four days. If you’d stuck around, we’d be on our way already.”

“What’s your rush? The evil immortals will still be around when we get there, wherever there is.”

Coop scanned Adam’s bright blue Aloha shirt with its white and orange flowers, along with his knee-length brown swim trunks and open-toed sandals. “You should at least be color-coordinated.”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t think anyone cared much about that on Formil, especially on the nude beach. You really missed it, Coop. Too bad you didn’t come along.”

Coop shot a furtive glance at Sherri. Copernicus had pleaded with her to make the vacation a couples thing, consisting of him and Sherri and Adam and Arieel. That suggestion landed like a lead balloon on the home front.

“Stow your gear, Mr. Cain,” Riyad said from behind him, saving both men from any further embarrassment. “And then man a working party. We have provisions to load. Snap to it, sailor.”

4

Monty slept the first two days of the journey to Sasin. When he awoke, he made his way to the pilothouse, thankful for the lack of gravity in the Forty. Summer was asleep in her cabin, but he found Tidus strapped into the pilot seat, staring blankly at the distant stars through the forward viewport.

“You are awake,” the Juirean noticed. “How are you feeling?”

“I think sleep is worse than the injury. It’s hard to get moving after so long in bed.”

“Does Summer know you are awake?”

“Not yet. I looked in on her. She’s sound asleep.”

“That is good. She has remarked how she is having what you call nightmares. Sleep has become a curse for her.”

“Considering all she’s been through; can you blame her? People like you and me, Tidus, we accept all this.” Monty waved his hand at the vastness of space beyond the viewport. “She’s crammed a lifetime of weird experiences into a single year. And her time at the Aris base had to leave scars.”

“I was not being critical. She is a remarkable example of your race—perhaps too remarkable.”

Monty frowned. “What does that mean?”

Tidus turned to face the former Navy master chief. “My friend, I have had many experiences with Humans, including Adam Cain and the others. I have witnessed firsthand the exceptional nature of your race and accept fully the outcome of the Juirean and Human encounters. However, what I saw during the Cartel attack went beyond even what Adam could achieve, and we both know why his abilities are superior to most other Humans.”

“The mind melds with Panur.”

“Precisely.”

Monty’s frown remained etched on his forehead. “If this is about the attack, then you’re going to have to provide more detail. Remember, I passed out right at the beginning.” He looked around at the interior of the pilot house. “I accept the fact that we survived, but I’ve been asleep since then. Tell me what happened. All I remember is that the Cartel ships fired on us. All of them. After that, I’m blank. I’m actually surprised I woke up at all.”

“Of course,” said Tidus. He turned to his console and pulled up a data file. Monty leaned in closer to see it. His abdomen was still healing, so he winced from the effort. “As you see from this playback, Summer’s initial efforts were reckless and off-target. But immediately after the Cartel fired, she began to gain proficiency at a phenomenal rate. See here, this is a scale of rate-of-fire and accuracy.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen charts like this before.”

“Then you know the efficiency is beyond anything short of full computer automation. And then she accessed the forward battery to destroy another vessel.”

“I didn’t show her how to do that.”

“That is true. But somehow, she learned—and during the briefness of the encounter. In all honesty, neither of us could have done half as well.” Tidus leaned back from the screen. “Tell me, Monty, from all indications, Summer has an innate talent for targeting and shooting, evidenced by her prior record. Is what you see here a result of that talent, or is something else at work?”

Monty studied the numbers on the chart again. He’d been a hull tech during his Navy career, not a flash cannon gunner or a weapons specialist of any kind. However, since then, he’d acquired the skill, a necessity in his most recent vocation as a runner of contraband in and out of the Dysion Void. When growing up, he’d always been a good shot, and he taught Summer what he knew. But he left when she was nine. That wasn’t enough time for her to acquire any real skill during their father-daughter hunting trips. What the experience did, however, was instill a love for the outdoors and target shooting in the young girl. That led her to pursue the hobby as she reached her teens and beyond. Eventually, love of the sport—as well as her natural ability—led to the Olympics and a gold medal in archery, followed by a brief career with the Washington, D.C. SWAT team. He shrugged. He knew some people are gifted at one particular skill or another. Perhaps Summer was a prodigy; that would explain a lot. But not everything. Like how she was able to access skills and weapons systems without first being instructed in their use, and all in the course of a running ten-minute space battle?

“Have you shown the charts to her?” he asked Tidus.

“I have not. I wished to discuss the matter with you first.”

Monty looked at the screen again then back to his green-skinned friend. He smiled. “Let’s just count our blessings that she did what she did and that she’s on our side.”

“And where would I find these blessings of which to count? I do not understand? Is there a rating system I am unaware of?”

Monty laughed. “I thought you were one of the few Juireans who understood Human slang?”

“It would be impossible to know all Human colloquialisms. You seem to make them up as you go.”

“And that is true, buddy.” He patted the alien’s knee. “That’s how we keep all of you guessing what we’re really up to.”

“So it is a deliberate act! I thought so.”

Monty winked.

* * *

The massive yellow eye stared at her again. It hovered on the other side of her eyelids, causing her to squeeze even tighter to keep them from opening. The eye wanted in; it wanted access to her soul.

The dream came every night, growing stronger each time. She would remember each episode upon waking, then slink off to a quiet place in the Forty to work out the symbolism. She knew that’s what most dreams were, a puzzle of impossible or disjointed images and events which meant something as a whole. However, a week or so since leaving the Aris base, the dream had only grown stronger and the eye closer. Earlier, there were other scenes surrounding the eye; blackened landscape, a red sky, and then distant screaming. As the weeks passed, the eye became more dominant until it filled her sleeping vision.

She knew it had to have something to do with the Essence of J’nae she drank at the Aris base. What else could it be?

For a while, she’d thought she’d become immortal, just as had the Aris—including Kracion—when they merged with the Essence. But then Panur and Lila scoffed at the idea. She was a biologic—as they called her. She was not compatible with the Essence regarding immortality, only as a strong stimulant that brought her back from the dead. As Panur explained, if Adam had waited another few minutes to administer the stimulant, no amount of distilled mutant super-juice would have saved her.

But what of the dream?

She got the impression the mutants weren’t telling her the whole truth. As evidence, they began to spend an inordinate amount of time with her once they returned to the Colony Ship, much more so than ever before. They were studying her, and she knew it.

It would be the same when they eventually made it back to the station.

But then came the battle against the Gradis Cartel.

She wasn’t blind to what she’d done. And what frightened her—to a point—was that she seemed to retain all the knowledge that flowed into her during the fight. She felt she could do it again if called upon.

All this was related to J’nae. There was no other explanation.

And if that were the case, what now?

The dream was continuing even as Summer tried to wake. There was fear, but now she was consumed by an overwhelming curiosity. If this was the eye of J’nae seeking entry into her subconscious, was Panur’s creation not already there? How else could Summer have done what she did? Perhaps facing the phantom would answer her questions.

* * *

Summer. Summer, wake up.

The eye flared, then fell away quickly, a sense of anger filling her mind. She opened her eyes.

Her father was hunched over her, a hand on her shoulder. The Juirean, Tidus, was floating behind him.

“You’re having a nightmare, sweetie. C’mon, wake up.”

It took a moment for reality to swamp her senses. She was in her bed, the soft hum of the single gravity generator pervasive throughout the room.

“What’s wrong?” she managed to ask.

“As I said, you were having a nightmare. You were shaking and whimpering. Are you okay?”

Summer unbuckled the top holding strap that kept her in the bed during zero-g. Monty helped her sit up. “I’m okay. Are we there yet?”

“Another twelve hours, little one,” Tidus said, his towering figure leaning forward over her father.

“You want to talk about it?” Monty asked.

“The nightmare? I don’t think so.”

“Tidus says you’ve been asleep for ten hours. Maybe you should get up and get something to eat. We need to put on the spacesuits in about an hour. The air in here is getting pretty thin.”

“Yeah…that would be good. Give me a minute to get dressed.”

Tidus and Monty left the room.

For a moment, she remained in bed, thinking. Next time, she would let the eye in. Next time, she would learn the truth.

5

The last twelve hours of the journey to Sasin were spent in environmental suits, changing out oxygen tanks every four hours as the sieve of a starship lost the last of its atmosphere. The Forty came fully stocked with extra suits and tanks, and with the gravity off it wasn’t much of an inconvenience to move around in the bulky outfits.

For Summer, the real discomfort came from the claustrophobic confinement. She’d never been in a spacesuit before, and now she would be trapped inside one for half a day. The cold began to seep in. Without an atmosphere in the ship, the heaters didn’t work. And battery packs within the suits had to be changed out frequently—even more than the oxygen tanks—to keep the cold at bay.

Although she’d heard a lot—none of it good—about the planet Sasin from Tidus over the intervening three days, she was still relieved to see the bright dot in the black of space grow in the viewport. Soon she could make out surface features, such as the vast oceans and smallish landmasses. At least here was a place with an atmosphere. The Forty was on its last legs when Tidus brought the damaged ship into a loose orbit around the planet.

“There is an incredible number of vessels drifting above Sasin,” the Juirean observed, concern in his voice. “The proximity scan shows nearly a thousand. It is extremely hazardous for us since the orbits have no organization to them.”

“What does that mean?” Summer asked.

“It appears as though these vessels—mainly freighters and other long-haulers—came to the planet and were abandoned as their crews fled to the surface. Collisions have subsequently occurred, which has produced even more debris. Each item must be tracked and avoided.”

“But we’re not staying in orbit, are we?”

“No, but our landing could be problematic. In addition, there appears to be no formal planetary approach control in operation.”

Monty was at the navigation scope. “At least we have automated highlights of several landing sites, although they’re not giving us vectors and glide paths. Probably just AI beacons at work. It will be a line-of-sight landing. I’m pinpointing a large field designated for merchants and other commercial vessels.”

“I have it; thank you, Monty,” said Tidus. “It is best that we avoid the refugee ports. We would not want to be confused for immigrants.”

“Does Priority Acquisitions have offices here?” Summer asked.

“At one time we did, but no longer,” the Juirean answered. “Sasin was once a rich environment for criminal sanctuary. PA was constantly picking up bounties here. However, the criminals have since taken over, making our presence unwelcome.”

“So no one to help us?”

“I can try to contact some of the old employees to see if any have remained, perhaps in a different capacity. We do have a protection division—you would call them bodyguards. In a society such as this, I could see a need for such services. But first, we must get to the surface without hitting anything or being hit. Monty, could you assist in the co-pilot seat?”

“Of course.”

Monty and Summer strapped in. The Forty had neither internal gravity nor inertial compensators. It was going to be a rough ride.

Monty was having a hell of a time healing from his injuries. Just as he was getting better, an event would occur that tore open his wound. The first had been the Cartel attack. Now it would be the roller coaster ride to the surface of Sasin. And there was nothing Summer could do to help. She sat at the weapons station as her father fought through spasms of pain helping Tidus dodge dozens of haphazard objects in orbit. And once they entered the atmosphere, it wasn’t much better. From the collisions and abandoned vessels, there was a constant rain of debris falling toward the surface. Most were small enough to burn up in the atmosphere, yet occasionally an entire ship would fall out of orbit and crash to the surface. Fortunately, eighty percent of Sasin was covered by water, reducing the chances that a major strike would hit land.

Eventually, Tidus steered the Forty into clear air, and, following the automated beacon, lined up on the commercial landing field in the heart of what was the planet’s major metropolis.

Summer studied the sprawling mass of dilapidated structures—a horrific blight on the surface that spread for hundreds of miles in all directions. She scowled.

“What an ugly mess,” she said. “I see now why you called it a cesspool, Tidus.”

“The city is called Yanish-kas, and it has grown four-fold since I was here last, and mainly over the past standard year. According to the research I have done through the Library, there was no time to organize for the influx of refugees. What government that remains is now controlled by the five major Tribes—savage criminal enterprises that run the planet. They allow the authorities to remain in place to provide power, water, sewer and communications. Workers are loaned to the government by the Tribes in exchange for the services. Beyond that, there is no infrastructure to speak of.”

“Why do people come here?”

“They have no choice. Their worlds were irradiated by Kracion and the Klin. All they’ve ever known is gone. As I mentioned before, the affluent and the powerful have gone elsewhere. These are the survivors with no assets. They come with only the clothing they wear. And if any do have a modicum of wealth, it is quickly confiscated by the Tribes. Labor skills have the most value. There is a need to keep the systems running.”

“What about food?” Summer asked. “There must be twenty million people down there.”

She saw the alien grimace. “Unofficial tallies place it at close to thirty million. Furthermore, you will not find this information to your liking, little one, but you must realize nearly all the creatures that inhabit the Expansion—and your Human Union as well—are carnivores: meat-eaters. Although it is unacceptable to practice cannibalism on the more civilized planets, it is acceptable to find sustenance from other species, much as you do among your livestock and fowl populations on Earth. In a desperate society, such as you find on Sasin, the weaker species are often preyed upon for food.”

“They eat each other! These are supposed to be intelligent beings. That’s gross.”

“As in reference to large?” Tidus asked. “I am confused.”

“No, in reference to disgusting!”

Tidus shrugged. “Desperate people will take desperate measures to survive.”

“So who decides who’s food and who isn’t?”

“I do not know for sure, but I would imagine the Tribal leaders make the determination.”

“So these poor, desperate refugees come here looking for a safe harbor, and some of them get herded away to be slaughtered for dinner?”

“That is my understanding. Apparently, there are services now active that round up the last survivors from many of Kracion’s victimized species and bring them here for that express purpose.”

“And the refugees know this?”

“The word is spreading, but most do not have an option. A lost ship in space has little option other than to be towed here by the slavers.”

“This goes way beyond slavery, Tidus,” Summer pointed out, her voice trembling.

“Be assured there is no fear of us suffering the same fate. I am a Juirean, and you and Monty are Humans. Both our races are accepted as off-limits for such use.”

“That’s not why I’m upset!”

“I understand. However, if you were on the verge of starvation, and there was a viable food source available that was not Human, I am sure you would use it.”

“I say we drop the subject,” Monty growled. He could see that the Juirean’s calm acceptance of what was happening on Sasin was beginning to get to her.

Summer nodded. “Let’s just get down there, make our call to Adam, and then get the hell out of here as soon as we can. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I guarantee your condition will only worsen once we land,” the alien said nonchalantly.

“Dammit, Tidus! She didn’t need to hear that,” Monty scolded.

“But it is the truth.”

“Just land the damn ship, will you?”

“Five minutes. Then you will see I am right.”

6

The Forty came in on a shallow gravity-well, and when Tidus transitioned to the landing jets, the crew discovered another problem. The starboard propellent tank had been ruptured, draining fuel throughout the three-day journey. They got a burp from the engine before it fell silent.

Landing a ship the size of the Forty with only one jet was not recommended; Summer wasn’t sure if it was even possible. But Tidus was anticipating this. He channeled exhaust from the port engine to the starboard side at the first sign of trouble. The ship rocked like a swing before the jets stabilized. But then they were dropping far too fast for a gentle landing. They also didn’t have an option where to land. The ship was falling like a rock, and anything below it was about to become a pancake.

That anything was a small, sixteen-person shuttle resting in the commercial spaceport. There was about a twenty-second warning before landing, and as Summer watched the lower monitors, she didn’t see anyone run from the vessel. Hopefully, it was empty and abandoned, as were most of the ships around it.

The light construction of the shuttle helped cushion the landing for the Forty, but not much. It crumpled under the weight of the much larger starship, sending a spine-chilling screech throughout the hull like a thousand fingernails on a chalkboard. The Forty listed to starboard, settling at a slight angle when the engines were cut. A moment later, the starboard reaction jet broke from the fuselage and crashed to the ground, rolling away about thirty meters before coming to a rest.

They were down… and for the count. “Well, we’re here,” was all Monty could manage as a critique of the landing.

Summer unbuckled and went to the forward viewport. The spaceport was a virtual graveyard of ships, with few of the vessels having weathered well in the environment of Sasin—be it from natural elements or otherwise. Scavengers were active across the landscape, as evidenced by the missing hatches and gaping gashes where grav generators had once been attached to several nearby ships. The few that appeared space worthy were under guard by a menagerie of species, most of whom had swatches of various colors staining their foreheads.

Tidus moved up beside her.

“Identifying dyes for the Tribes,” he volunteered, answering her unasked question. “Once enlisted in their service, the members are branded. I imagine the ships they are guarding are those bringing crucial supplies to the city to be traded for exorbitant fees.”

“Where are the refugees?”

“They would be at another landing field. There is a process for new arrivals, where either skills or wealth is recorded. Then the Tribes bid with the captains for the most valuable. Those with neither skills nor assets will likely become part of the food stock for the processors. That or the larger ones become the enforcers.”

Summer tried to look beyond the mishmash of starships to the city beyond. “Where will we find a CW comm setup?”

“There will be a few,” Tidus replied. “Links to the outside galaxy are still crucial. I will now attempt to contact former PA employees to see if any remain on the planet. I will ask for their assistance if there are any on Sasin. We have funds, especially Juirean credits. I am sure they would have great value, over any of the local labor honoraria in use among the Tribes. All I require at the moment is a guide.”

To his relief, the Library was available, even on Sasin. Using his old access code, Tidus pulled up a directory of past PA employees on the planet and scrolled through the names, searching for anyone he remembered. He had a good memory and found several he recognized. He began to make the contacts.

On the seventh try, someone answered the voice-only link.

“Is this Anoc Firostum?” Tidus asked.

“It is. Who is this?”

“Tidus Fe Nolan.”

“The Juirean!”

Tidus smiled. He had been a minor celebrity during his time with Priority Acquisitions, the only Juirean out of a staff of over one hundred thousand permanent employees and a million contract workers. “Yes, the Juirean. I see your location code places you on Sasin. Is that so?”

“Yes. I and a few of the others have been running an independent security operation since PA pulled out. The credits are good, although the job is more dangerous than any we have ever undertaken. Are you on Sasin? Are you looking for employment?”

“I am on Sasin, yet not in search of a contract.”

“I heard you left PA and were rumored to be working with the Humans against the Aris creature. Is that true?”

“It is.”

“Does it pay well? Are the Humans in need of others with our skills?”

“I apologize, Anoc. What I seek is merely the location of a CW relay center in Yanish-kas, near the commercial spaceport. I have arrived in a damaged starship and must make an urgent link. Can you help?”

There was a hesitation on the line before Tidus spoke again. “I am willing to pay for your assistance.”

“Then, yes, I can guide you. Where are you now?”

“The merchant spaceport, occupying space one-sixty-three East.”

“I can be there in fifty local minutes. I will bring a protective escort. It is not wise to travel the city without such. Do you have credits aboard your vessel? On Sasin, nothing gets done without payment in advance.”

“Yes, I have Juirean credits.”

“That would be most excellent. I am on my way.”

After breaking the link, Tidus turned to Monty.

“You and Summer will remain aboard to protect the ship.” The Juirean began to untie his ponytail, releasing his mass of light blue hair to cascade across his shoulders and down his back. “I will go into Yanish-kas as a Juirean Overlord and make the link to the Colony Ship.”

“Alone?” Monty asked.

“I will be in the company of my former associates.” He saw the smirk on Monty’s face. “Yes, I realize they cannot be trusted; however, we have no other option. If all three of us left, the ship would surely be open to robbery and vandals. Even though it will not fly again, we will need it for shelter until those from the Behemoth arrive. I would not risk staying in the city. Besides, you are restricted in your movements. I am not sure what value you would have in a fight.”

“I can hold my own,” Monty snapped.

“I will be fine,” Tidus continued. “I will be counting on the reputation of the Juireans to protect me.”

Summer’s stomach twisted as Tidus moved aft to change his clothing and prepare for the journey into the city. Even in a best-case scenario, it would take someone from the Behemoth nine days to reach Sasin. Nine days living in this broken-down starship while fending off the vultures.

It would be a miracle if anything were left by the time the cavalry arrived.

* * *

Tidus Fe Nolan looked resplendent in his thick, blue velvet cloak and magnificent mane of erupting blue hair, which added another twelve inches to his already seven-foot frame before flowing down to mid-back. He was every bit the image of the elite and powerful Overlord class of Juirean, which he had been until casting it aside for a life of freedom among the less-privileged species of the galaxy. His quest for independence eventually landed him at the galactic security company Priority Acquisitions. The company specialized in fugitive recovery, as well as small-to-mid-size paramilitary operations and security details for dignitaries and other celebrities.

A few years back, Tidus once again undertook a drastic career change, when he joined Adam Cain and his team in their struggle against the Mad Aris, Kracion. Since then, he’d found a new home on the team, if only as a secondary character.

Now he stood before Monty and Summer, reliving some of the past glory of being a member of the most dominant race in the galaxy.

“You look magnificent, Tidus,” Summer ogled. She had limited experience with Juireans, although she’d seen a few aboard the Colony Ship. Tidus was an anomaly, one of only a handful of his race to ever leave the Authority voluntarily. “You certainly will make an impression on the streets,” she complimented. “I hope it’s enough.”

“If not, I have insurance….” He pulled back the cloak to reveal a set of MK-47 bolt launchers strapped to his thin waist. “However, I am counting on deference over firepower.”

* * *

An hour later a beat-up six-seater transport pulled up to the starship. Four aliens climbed out, all of different races, with a yellow-skinned creature taking the lead.

“The yellow one is Anoc,” Tidus told the others as they watched a monitor on the bridge. As the Juirean explained, Anoc was a Sebonen, a stocky creature with thick, scaly skin and an oblong head placed sideways on his narrow neck. He had two primary eyes set at opposite ends of his head, and scent feelers in the form of wispy antenna midway between the eyes. He had no nose to speak of and breathed through a square mouth with bony gums for chewing. His race had been a member of the Expansion back before it was called the Expansion and was classified Prime-A for their physical abilities and level of technological prowess. When Tidus had last been to Sasin, Anoc was the assistant director for the Priority team permanently assigned to the planet. Tidus forgot the name of the director; it didn’t matter, he was probably long gone by now, enjoying the privileges of rank when it came time to evacuate Sasin.

Tidus slid smoothly down the slope of the deck toward the exit. He turned at the outer hatchway.

“I will return as soon as possible. Please have no worry. I have been in situations such as this before. Follow our established protocols when I return, and all will be fine.”

Summer cracked the hatch and cycled it open. She and Monty also had MK weapons strapped to their waists; the spaceport was crawling with an assortment of the most unsavory creatures she’d ever seen. It was a nightmare come to life—at least one version of a nightmare. She shuddered at the thought of the looming eye growing ever closer….

The sky outside was a slate-grey overcast, which matched the general hue of the surrounding city. Everything here was dull and in shadows, and although the Forty had taken in filtered air from outside, she got her first whiff of the real thing through the doorway. It was a putrid, foul odor which hung in the air like a cloak, smelling of living decay. During her time with the Marines, she’d been on a few of the refugee worlds with Sherri Valentine, experiencing what she thought at the time was the worst conditions imaginable. But that was just a prelude to Sasin. Here was an entire planet of even worse conditions. She never imagined a place could be this far gone.

Tidus stepped out of the Forty, using the wreckage of the shuttle beneath it as steps to reach the charcoal black soil of Sasin. He marched to the waiting aliens near the transport without hesitation or fear.

Anoc locked eyes with Summer and Monty momentarily, as if surveying the items on the lunch menu. The strange alien head and eyes made Summer shiver. Everyone in the galaxy was a predator. Anoc was no exception.

She closed the door, savoring for a moment the semi-fresh scent of the filtered atmosphere. She prayed the batteries would last until the rescue party arrived.

* * *

Tidus studied Anoc’s demeanor. They had not had much contact in the past, but Tidus remembered him as being one of those creatures who, if fortunes were only slightly different, PA would have been tracking him rather than he tracking the criminals. In a way, it made sense that Anoc would have stayed on Sasin when the planet deteriorated. There was money to be made in confusion and desperation. And Anoc did have skills.

There was no formal greeting, no handshake or alien-hug. They simply acknowledged one another, along with the three beings with Anoc. Tidus got the impression the others never worked for PA. They appeared too crude, too mindless to have worked for the premiere fugitive recovery operation in the galaxy. They were probably hired muscle Anoc had enlisted for his new operation. They eyed Tidus with suspicion and contempt. Although Juireans were the apex race in the galaxy, they were not well liked by most Expansion members. They were accepted, as lords and masters often were. But this was a rebellious group on Sasin. They didn’t bow easily to authority, real or perceived.

“I see you are in full regalia,” Anoc said to Tidus, waving a hand at his cloak and magnificent mane.

“I felt it might provide more security on the streets of Yanish-kas.”

“Or signify a larger purse, should you be robbed.”

Tidus gave him a thin, toothless smile. “That is why you are here, Anoc: to protect me.” There was an implied challenge in the statement. “You must live nearby; it did not take you long to get here through the chaos of the city.”

“I have a compound in the foothills south of here. It is a defensible position, unlike that which can be found in the city center. Most of my business is for personnel and cargo escort from the spaceport. It is wise to base my operations within a reasonable distance.”

Tidus nodded. “I am in need of a CW communications station. Is there one in the vicinity?”

“Several blocks to the mountainside. We will take you. But first, there is the question of payment.”

“I will pay you, Anoc,” the towering Juirean said with a thin smile. “Is there no trust between former associates?”

“We worked for the same organization, Tidus, yet you were never assigned to Sasin. That would not rate us as associates. Besides, it is only prudent that we negotiate the fee before providing the service.”

“What do you suggest? I merely require transportation to the station and back.”

“Is not the relay working aboard your vessel?”

“It was damaged on the way to Sasin.”

“Through hostile action?”

“Would it matter if that was so?”

“It is just that no one comes to Sasin voluntarily. You have a damaged communication system and a damaged ship.” He eyed the charred and dented hull of the Forty, as well as the strange marriage between it and the crumpled shuttle underneath. “And now you come to Sasin, just you and your two Human associates. I must deduct that we were your only option.”

“Your point?”

“That the link you wish to make must be of the utmost importance; therefore, I would be remiss if I did not price my services according to the need.”

“I could reference my datapad and inquire from others, after which I could walk or pay simply for transportation once the location is known. I am willing to pay, but not to be extorted.”

“My Lord, Tidus,” Anoc said. The word Lord carried a sarcastic tone, referring to an Overlord’s official form of address. The alien knew Tidus had been expelled from the Authority long ago and could no longer claim the title. “Let us not squabble. I request a thousand Juirean credits for transport to the station and another thousand for the return trip to the spaceport.”

“That is exorbitant, Anoc.”

“For Sasin, it is not. We offer guidance, transportation and protection during the contract period. You should know services such as these—in a place such as this—can be quite expensive.”

“Very well but let us hurry.”

Anoc and his three guards stood their ground. “I will require a thousand now and then the other thousand when we leave the CW station. If you need to reenter your ship to retrieve the funds, we will wait.”

Tidus reached into an interior pocket of his blue velvet cloak. He already had the credits divided into separate compartments so they could be easily withdrawn without having to show additional credits as he counted them out. He handed four green chips to Anoc.

“Very well, please enter the transport.”

One of the guards took a front seat, leaving Tidus to squeeze in between two of the burly aliens in the rear. Anoc did the driving.

Tidus wasn’t worried, not at this stage. If Anoc were going to rob him, he would wait until they returned to the Forty. There would undoubtedly be more credits aboard the vessel.

Tidus did his best to survey the lay of the land as Anoc guided the transport away from the Forty and through the disorganized maze of the spaceport. Some of the creatures he observed belonged here, running leaking fuel lines to the few space-worthy vessels present, or operating heavy haulers full of incoming cargo under the watchful eyes of armed sentries, some of whom might have been in Anoc’s employ. Most of the other beings nearby scurried about, going from derelict to derelict looking for any scrap metal, stray electronic component, or otherwise overlooked treasure they could trade for food. As the vehicle lumbered past the rusting hulks, Tidus could see that many of the forgotten starships had become homes for the most indigent of Sasin. Small fires glowed from within several of them in a losing effort to fend off the coming cold of night. A steady wind howled through the metal monuments, and dense cloud cover made the afternoon not much brighter than night. Somewhere above the clouds, dual moons orbited Sasin, providing a dim, perpetual spotlight on the putrefaction of the planet.

As the car passed beyond the ill-defined border of the spaceport, Tidus didn’t have much confidence that a CW relay station would be close. Looking at the neighborhood, he felt the challenge insurmountable. These buildings barely had electric lights. Even fewer had running water, let alone a high-tech communications station capable of instantaneous links across thousands of light-years.

Anoc turned right at an intersection and proceeded along the perimeter before coming to a road where cargo was being transported in and out of the spaceport. More businesses were located along this thoroughfare, a ribbon called the E-4 concourse.

Once outside the spaceport, the journey to the CW relay station was not several blocks away, only two. A one-sentence set of directions and Tidus could have found his own way. Instead, it cost him a thousand credits for a five-minute ride. Tidus said nothing regarding Anoc’s exaggeration of the distance. It was a price he had to pay based on local standards.

The vehicle slid up to a cracked and broken sidewalk and stopped. Tidus climbed out, and the guards took up sentry positions on the street. Patrons of the CW station would be the most affluent in Yanish-kas and therefore prime targets for the hordes of criminals roaming the streets. Some of the vultures would be stationed nearby, waiting. The sight of a Juirean Overlord and four guards should be enough to discourage any spontaneous attacks. But with time to organize, that was another issue.

The relay station was housed in a high-security building, with a four-inch-thick security door made of metal-infused plastic set in a structure of metal, not stone or wood. Although it appeared sturdy and solid, it had seen better days. Black scars ran up the sides, evidence of prior attempts to blow open the front of the building.

Tidus made his way over the light rubble and approached the security station set in the wall. The three guards on the other side of the barrier gawked as the Juirean Overlord strode to the window.

“I am Overlord Tidus Fe Landon. I wish entry to complete a link.”

“There is a five hundred credit security fee required for entry, my Lord,” said one of the guards through an electronic relay.

Tidus pulled out the credits and placed them in a sliding bin.

“Have your escorts step back,” the guard instructed. “Only you will be allowed inside the facility.”

Anoc and his team were already moving away. They knew the procedure and didn’t press the issue.

The door cycled open, and Tidus entered. This was just the first of three secure barricades he had to pass through before entering the facility itself.

A slender, pink-skinned creature, dressed in a shabby monotone brown outfit greeted him in the lobby. Tidus knew him to be a native Sasin. In reality, there were so few left that seeing one in the flesh was a rarity.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, my Lord,” the native squeaked. Tidus knew the Sasins to be intelligent creatures yet not physically intimidating. That was the reason they’d been dominated for so long by alien invaders, and especially now with the uncontrolled influx of refugees.

“It is quite all right. I must make a secure link.”

“Approximate distance?”

“Two thousand light-years. Why is this a concern with CW communications?”

“It involves the number of relay links required, my Lord.”

“That is not normal.”

“Very little is normal on Sasin. Are we in agreement?”

Tidus nodded, although, from his expression, the native could tell he wasn’t completely in agreement.

“Please, follow me. I will set you in a booth. And again, I apologize, but I will have to ask for payment, and in advance.”

“Is there no accommodation for Juireans?” Tidus asked, astounded. There were countless perks to being the leaders of the Expansion, one of which was that they seldom paid for any officially sanctioned services, such as CW links.

“I regret to inform you that with the high cost of maintaining this facility on Sasin, a monetary fee is required of all patrons, regardless of heritage. We are in constant need of repair to the relay antenna as vandals steal the metal nearly as soon as we replace it.”

“How much?”

“For a link of that distance, three thousand credits.”

Tidus said nothing; instead, he stared with his unblinking yellow eyes at the much smaller native. To be charged for the link was an issue; to be charged so much was another.

To his credit, the smallish alien didn’t waver. He met Tidus’ stare with a sheepish one of his own.

Eventually, Tidus handed over the credits. He had come with eight thousand, which should have been plenty. Then even if he got robbed, there was still more back on the Forty. But after paying Anoc—as well as any other unforeseen fees—he would return with very little.

He was escorted to a private room with the necessary communication equipment. It looked to be several years old and not well maintained. Tidus hoped it still worked.

Although all modern starships carried the equipment, land-based CW stations were fairly rare. Governments and military had them along with the larger companies. But there were few commercial facilities available, even on the more advanced worlds. It had something to do with the magnetic field of planets, along with atmospheric interference, which made ground stations much more expensive to build and maintain, as Tidus had just experienced.

The Juirean had the link code for the Colony Ship—now called the Behemoth by Adam and the Humans. He entered the number and then waited. A large clock on the wall counted down the link time. In clear space, CW links were good for about an hour, but on a planet, with its additional rotation and other factors, the duration was reduced to about forty minutes. The three thousand credits would cover his first session.

A Formilian in one of the Behemoth’s twelve relay stations answered the link. The Klin invented CW communications, and they’d built the Colony Ship. They could have as many relay stations aboard their vessel as they wished.

A moment later, Adam Cain was summoned to the room by the technician.

“Tidus, where the hell have you been?” Adam barked. “We were expecting you a day ago, and then we lost contact. What happened?”

“An unfortunate turn of events, my friend. The Forty was attacked by raiders, and our CW comm was destroyed.”

“Are you okay? Summer and Monty?”

“Yes, we are all well. However, the ship was severely damaged. We managed to land on the planet Sasin although the ship will never fly again. We are requesting a party to pick us up.”

“Sasin? Why does that sound familiar?”

“It is a last-resort refugee planet in this part of the galaxy.”

“That’s right. It’s supposed to be a real shithole.”

“I refer to it as a cesspool, but the meanings are similar.”

“Is the team secure?”

“We are for now, yet I must request haste in our recovery. The environment is not conducive to long-term residency.”

“Understood.” Adam frowned. “You say raiders attacked you?”

“Yes, suspected members of the Gradis Cartel.”

Adam grimaced. “Yeah, those bastards are still around. I bet they love a place like Sasin. A lot of desperate recruits there.”

“Indeed. However, at this moment, the Cartel is the least of our worries. When can we expect a recovery?”

Adam appeared lost in thought for a moment. “The team is getting ready to head out to the Kidis to track down the Aris transit signal. We have the two trans-dimensional starships Panur has built.”

“I am aware of that, Adam. A Formilian ship and crew would do just as well.”

“What I’m saying is I could take one of the TD ships and hop over to pick you up. I could be there in no time.”

Tidus’s mood brightened. He had been expecting nothing less than nine days before rescue. “And in your estimation, what is no time?”

“How far is Sasin?”

“Two thousand light-years.”

“Hell, I could be there in sixteen hours, give or take a few.”

The Juirean flashed a full-tooth grin, a habit he’d picked up from the Humans. “That would be most excellent. It will also come as great news to Summer and Monty. You will find us at the merchant spaceport in the center of the city of Yanish-kas.”

“Got it. How’s Monty doing?”

“He exacerbated his injuries during the attack, but he is recovering. And when we meet, I will provide more detail as to how we managed to survive the Cartel assault.”

Adam frowned. “Now I’m curious. What happened?”

“It would take too long on a CW link to explain. Besides, I would wish you to leave as soon as possible. Sasin can be a very dangerous place.”

“I hear you, my friend. I’ll let Panur and the others know what I’m doing. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”

Tidus was encouraged. This was the best news he could expect and was now anxious to relay the information to Monty and Summer. But then he thought of Anoc and his three henchmen waiting outside the facility. It was a foregone conclusion that his old PA associate would try something at the end of the contract, either an actual assault or an attempt to extort more money out of him. It would take some convincing on Tidus’ part for that not to happen, along with a little help from the twin MK-47s he carried.

Once that hurdle was cleared, all Tidus and the others had to do was survive on Sasin for another sixteen hours. Not a problem; just lock the doors and don’t open them until Adam Cain arrives.

7

“Let me take a look at that,” Summer said to her father.

Monty pulled up his shirt to expose the clear dressing on his wound. “That Formilian suture shit is doing a pretty good job,” he said. “Better than what I got on Zinnol.”

Summer pressed a finger on the pink flesh around the injury site. “Any pain?”

“A little, but nothing unless I twist.”

“Good. It looks like you’ll have more time to heal. We have nothing to do now but wait. For you, it’s the best prescription.”

Monty could sense her concern.

“Everything will be fine, Sum. Tidus is a pretty capable dude. He’s spent most of his time with PA in places like this—”

The two Humans felt their ears pop as the air pressure changed in the ship; the outer hatch had opened… without warning.

“That was quick,” Monty said, referring to Tidus and his mission, even though he knew this was something different. Their weapons were drawn by the time the first of the aliens made it into the common room.

There were three of them, all of different races, and they came with weapons at the ready, rushing through the interior of the ship, their heads looking in all directions for anything to shoot. Unfortunately—for them—the Humans were quicker.

Energy bolts flew, and a moment later the three invaders lay dead on the deck. But they were only the first wave. Another six crowded in. Soon, the tiny compartment became obscured in the white haze of flash residue hanging in the air. Another two aliens were dead, but Summer had taken a level-two bolt to her right arm and Monty one to his left shoulder as he scrunched over to protect his injured stomach. The bolts weren’t lethal—not to Humans—but they did send them into spasms of pain that rendered the pair defenseless as the aliens piled on top. Soon, they were wrapped in nylon bindings, more than was necessary. Their captors weren’t taking any chances; they were dealing with Humans, and no amount of restraint was too much, or so it seemed.

What Monty found curious was how the aliens reacted after the attack. While the bindings were being secured, others rushed throughout the ship, checking the compartments, forward and aft. They came back to the central meeting area with confusion on their faces. The leader—an awesome looking beast with black skin and a double set of arms—received the reports and then sent the teams to search the ship again. When the second search came up empty, the leader came to address his captives.

“You…you are Humans?” The statement came out as more of a surprise than a question. Something wasn’t right about his tone.

“Yeah, and you know what that means?” Monty asked.

The alien frowned and cocked his head slightly to the right.

“You don’t mess with the Humans, asshole,” Monty clarified.

The alien shrugged off the comment before taking out a communicator and opening a link. “The ship is secure,” he began. “We were able to approach unnoticed and gained entrance with the crew unaware.” He turned away until Monty couldn’t hear what was said. A moment later, he turned back and aimed the device at his prisoners.

“Scan the female,” said a voice on the link.

The black-skinned alien brought the camera in closer and ran it up and down Summer. Monty tried to make out the face on the screen, but it was obscured in shadows, all except a glint of metal from the glow of the communicator at the other end of the link.

“Who are you?” the voice asked through the speaker.

“I’m Summer Rains. What does it matter to you? Why are you doing this?”

“There are no other entities aboard?”

“No, just us. Who are you looking for? Whoever it is, it’s not us.”

“Draunus, none others?”

The alien leader brought the communicator back to focus on him. “As I reported, the ship is small; there is no one else aboard, I assure you.”

“Yet the presence….”

Draunus—the alien leader—looked away briefly, his leathery face a study in annoyance. “I have no answers. We came as directed. This is the ship. Perhaps you are mistaken. There are only Humans aboard. I hope you know what you are doing. We do not want their kind after us.”

“Bring the prisoners to the Cartel facilities,” the voice on the communicator barked. “I will be on Sasin in a day. I will interrogate them myself. In the meantime, send others to the ship to tear it apart. I need to know if she was there. I will survey the vessel personally when I arrive.”

Cartel facilities? Monty suspected these were the same Gradis gangsters who attacked them earlier. As Tidus explained, all the major cartels operated on Sasin, with the largest ones having designated zones and landing fields, and each guarded by their troops. They did a lot of recruiting in places like this. And there were plenty of takers for what they had to offer: a way off the planet, a decent paycheck and a new community of like-minded souls with which to assimilate. For beings who had just lost everything, the lure was irresistible.

Monty knew it was a risk coming to Sasin, but they had no other option at the time. However, why all the fuss over the Forty and her crew? At this point, Monty knew the original attack was more than just a coincidence. The Cartel was looking for them. But why?

Monty, Summer—and even Tidus—were nothing special in the larger scheme of things. There was no reason the Cartel would go out of their way to catch them. Monty stopped himself. The Cartel hadn’t been trying to catch them during the first attack. Instead, they’d come to destroy the ship, without warning or apparent cause. And that meant the crew was expendable.

He studied the aliens nearby, looking for an out. They were a tough, mean looking group. And the bindings were strong enough to hold the Humans. Monty was wondering if the goal of the bad guys might have changed now that the Forty had reached a planet? He doubted it. They were looking for someone, and it wasn’t any of the three of them. That wasn’t good.

8

“I must call the ship to let them know I have returned,” said Tidus from the backseat of the transport. He was squished in between two of Anoc’s huge associates. The third guard was driving this time, with Anoc in the front passenger seat. He now turned to look at Tidus, an ominous MK-17 in his hand, aimed at the Juirean.

The beings on each side of Tidus were quick and strong, holding Tidus’s arms pinned as they removed the weapons from around the Juirean’s waist. They handed the bolt launchers to Anoc and then proceeded to drain his cloak of any hidden credits.

“Forty-sevens, very impressive,” Anoc said, inspecting Tidus’s weapons with admiration. “And expensive. Am I to assume you have other treasures aboard your broken starship? You should know by now that I will be confiscating the vessel.”

“I had so assumed.”

“It is nothing personal. Just on Sasin, all opportunities must be taken.”

“What about me and the others?”

Anoc grimaced in an alien sort of way. “That is an issue. Juireans and Humans are not accepted as labor force, either here or anywhere that I know of. There will not be a market for you on Sasin, at least not in open market.”

Tidus didn’t like the sound of that.

“There are those—even on Sasin—who would welcome the chance to take the life of any or all of you, and for a very good price,” Anoc explained. “None would dare challenge you in combat. But you can still be killed. And as trophies, to be displayed at private showings, it will be a great way of demonstrating the buyer’s power and wealth to others. That is how I will sell it. I believe I will get a very good price for the three of you.”

Tidus kept his expression reserved, in typical Juirean fashion. He would not let on that there were security procedures put in place when returning to the Forty. Monty and Summer would be ready. All Tidus needed to do was be near the rear of the entourage as they entered the vessel, to catch the invaders in a vice between him and the deadly Humans.

He didn’t feel sorry for Anoc. It was inevitable that his life would end in such a manner. That was the price he would pay for his betrayal.

The five beings exited the transport and approached the side hatch to the Forty, appearing congenial, with Anoc and two of the others in the lead. Tidus and the last guard brought up the rear. Undoubtedly, they were being monitored from inside the ship.

At the hatch, Tidus was brought up to key in the access code.

It didn’t work.

“Do not delay, Tidus,” Anoc growled. “Your vessel is stranded where it sits. I will kill you and still gain access. I can overcome two Humans in short order, even if I have to call in additional assets.”

Tidus tried the code again. Still, the panel remained…dead. There was no indicator at all of the controls working. He gripped the handle and pulled it back, on the off chance the door was unlocked. The mechanism disengaged.

Anoc shoved Tidus back into the waiting arms of the last guard. Then with weapons drawn, he slid the door open the rest of the way and the three raiders entered the ship.

A strong scent of ozone filled the air, along with a thin wisp of whitish smoke. There were voices, and the sound of movement, a lot of movement.

By the time Anoc realized the ship was full of Cartel soldiers, it was too late. They were noticed. It was the guard behind Anoc who opened fire first.

* * *

Summer was seated next to Monty on a couch in the common room. The Cartel boss Draunus had just gotten off a communicator arranging for the next round of aliens to come to the ship and search the computers for any reference to their unnamed prize. There were four others in the room with them.

Suddenly, bodies flew past the Humans, blown away by flash bolts coming from the airlock. Summer recognized the oblong head of Tidus’s friend Anoc leading a small group of aliens into the compartment, their weapons popping out level-two bolts as fast as targeting computers could lock on. It wasn’t hard for the computers to do their job; the room was crowded, with bolts placed into opponents from point-blank range.

Summer leaned over and crashed a shoulder into Monty, sending them tumbling to the deck. Soon a dead alien fell on top, shielding them from the barrage of flash bolts filling the room. Her father moaned from a spasm of pain in his abdomen. She mentally shrugged. Poor guy. He’s never going to heal if he keeps getting tossed around like this.

Summer had a restricted view of what was happening, peering up through the armpit of the dead Cartel enforcer. She had trouble deciding who was who; all she knew for sure was that a lot of aliens were dying around her. It was a good start.

* * *

At the first sign of a flash from inside the starship, the guard watching Tidus shoved him aside and looked into the opening. He still had the weapon aimed at the Juirean, but not his attention.

Tidus smashed his body into the alien’s side, forcing the guard into the airlock. Then he gripped the recessed handle of the hatch and slid it shut, placing his weight against the door to keep it from reopening. The guard made no effort to escape; he was too busy with the firefight taking place inside to think of anything else except returning fire.

Tidus continued to lean against the door until no more blasts could be heard coming from inside the ship. He grimaced, hoping his friends were safe inside. There were a lot more flash bolts than he’d anticipated. He knew Summer and Monty would have been waiting, their weapons ready, set in action by the lack of entry protocols they’d established earlier. But there were only four of Anoc’s people to deal with, and the Humans had the element of surprise. But easily fifty shots had been fired, if not more. Why?

Cautiously, Tidus slid the door open and looked inside. A cloud of white smoke escaped into the putrid air of Sasin, obscuring his view. But then the haze dissipated. Inside the airlock were two bodies; one was the guard Tidus had forced inside. The other…was someone else.

The Juirean entered the ship, bending over to take the MK-17 from the fallen guard. He could see into the suit-up area, where another three creatures lay dead. The bodies were neither Summer, Monty or Anoc’s soldiers. So who were they?

He moved farther into the ship.

He heard a voice.

He turned left and entered the common room. The chamber was full of smoking bodies; a quick count placed it at seven. But there was one person still alive, a thick being with black skin and pointed ears. Tidus had seen the race before, although he couldn’t remember their name. The creature was standing over a pile of the dead; his MK pointed down. He was telling someone to stand up.

A body tumbled sideways, and a pair of pale slender arms appeared, bound together at the wrists, struggling to pull the rest of the form from under the pile. Summer’s yellow hair appeared. She pressed herself into a sitting position, with the huge alien holding the weapon steady on her tiny form.

Tidus didn’t need to see anymore. He triggered the MK, sending a deadly level-two bolt into the unsuspecting creature. The energy flared out, burning through the clothing and skin. The force of the bolt sent the beast onto another pile of dead.

Tidus rushed forward and reached out a long arm to help Summer to her feet.

“Where is Monty?”

“I’m here,” said a muffled voice. Summer and Tidus pulled away the dead and recovered the blood-covered Human, his face twisted in a sick combination of anger and pain.

“Are there any others aboard?” Tidus asked as he swung his gun hand about the cabin.

Monty looked around, his bound hands holding onto his left side. “I think that’s it.” He motioned with his head at one of the fallen. “Isn’t that your friend, Anoc?”

Tidus looked. There were two prominent holes burned into the former PA agent. He nodded. “Who are the others?”

“Cartel assholes. A follow up to the attack from a few days ago.”

“They came here; why?”

“They were looking for something,” Monty said.

“Someone,” Summer corrected.

“Who?”

“We don’t know.”

Tidus went to the galley and retrieved a knife. He returned and cut the bindings from the Humans.

“I assumed it was you who attacked Anoc and his associates, forewarned by a break in entry protocol,” the Juirean said. “I was not aware others were aboard. I am sorry if I put you at risk.”

“That’s okay,” Monty said. He wrapped a thick arm around Summer and pulled her close. “Quick thinking there, daughter. You probably saved our lives.”

“Yeah, again,” Summer said, flashing a sweet smile at her burly father.

“I am just glad you are well,” said Tidus. “For good news, I was able to contact Adam Cain. He is bringing one of the trans-dimensional starships to retrieve us. He will be here in less than sixteen hours. Let us now dispose of the bodies. They are beginning to smell. Then we lockdown the ship and wait for his arrival.”

“That won’t work,” Monty said gravely. “The Gradis has another team on the way. We can’t stay here.”

“They are sending more; why?”

“As Summer said, they’re looking for someone, and they’re going to tear the ship apart until they do.”

“But there is no one but us.”

“We know that, but they don’t,” Summer said. “We can’t stay here.”

Tidus was lost in thought as he fought for a solution to their problem. They had Anoc’s vehicle outside the Forty, but where could it take them? Into the city, where it would be just as dangerous as remaining here and fighting off the Cartel for the next sixteen hours. Or….

Tidus rushed to the body of Anoc Firostum and began to rifle through his clothing. The Juirean’s heart was pounding, fearing the worst. But then he found it: Anoc’s ID card. It was intact, having avoided vaporization by the MK bolts that hit him.

“Collect what credits you can find aboard, in addition to surplus weapons.”

“What did you find?” Summer asked.

Tidus held up the ID. “This has the location to Anoc’s residence. He called it a compound, designed to withstand the volatile population of Yanish-kas. We will find refuge there until Adam arrives.”

“Where is it?”

“He indicated the foothills south of here. I will access a datapad for the exact location. Now please, hurry. You say others are coming. I doubt they will be pleased with what they find within the ship.”

Summer and Monty headed aft to their compartments, having to step over and around a myriad of dead aliens. Tidus went to the bridge. There was a small cache of datapads in a secure compartment on the bulkhead. He opened the box and removed a pair of the devices.

When he returned to the common room, Monty and Summer were there with small duffel bags. Summer also had her compound bow, along with a covered quiver of arrows, both slung over her back. She never went anywhere without her weapon of choice.

A moment later they were outside and in the dimming light of early evening. Summer climbed in the back of the transport. Tidus asked Monty to drive while he took the passenger seat.

“I will navigate. Hopefully, we will not meet any resistance. Anoc’s vehicle is armored, and very likely known in the community. The journey to his residence should be a smooth one.”

“Glad to hear that,” Summer said. “Very few things have gone smoothly for us lately.”

Tidus took Anoc’s ID card and swept it across the scanner on the datapad. A map appeared on the screen, a yellow dot now flashing within a maze of lines and intersections.

The Juirean pointed to the left. “Head out that way. You will exit the spaceport and meet up with the E-4 thoroughfare.”

The transport pulled away. Tidus took a quick look around, knowing now that a Cartel assault group had arrived at the ship unseen by the Humans. He was curious from where they came. There, four empty vehicles off in the darkness near another derelict vessel. Scavengers were already rifling through the transports, in the process of stripping the cars clean. Word must have already circulated throughout the spaceport about the battle aboard the Forty. No one would be returning to the vehicles. They were fair game at this point.

Monty steered toward the main exit to the spaceport. Although Tidus had speculated they would have an uneventful journey, he couldn’t guarantee it. But once they got to Anoc’s compound, they could relax and wait for Adam’s arrival. The only issue he saw at the moment was that Anoc knew his way around the city and Tidus didn’t, especially after dark. Although the location of the residence was known, the most direct route may not be the safest. Tidus had no way of telling if that was true.

He took a pair of MK’s from Summer, just in case. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Tidus sighed at the rapid change of fortunes. Only moments before he was overjoyed with the news that Adam Cain would be on Sasin in sixteen hours. Now that was an eternity. Their only chance for survival was to become just as savage as the city around them. He looked at the grim and determined face of Monty Pitts, then to the more solemn, but equally determined countenance of Summer Rains. He forced a wry grin. If he was to face the deadly unknown, he couldn’t imagine a more capable team to have at his side. A Juirean and two Humans was a formidable force on any planet.

But would it be enough for Sasin?

9

They arrived in a pair of small hovercraft, a team of enforcers and techs sent from the Gradis Section of Yanish-kas, and led by a Second Level Kali, a senior operative in the Cartel. His name was TeraDon Fief, and he was of the Bazus race. Bazuseans weren’t the most physically intimidating of the Expansion members, but what they lacked in brawn they made up in intelligence. Even within a criminal organization such as the Gradis Cartel, the smartest often rose to the highest positions. And in light of his current assignment, TeraDon’s advancement to First Level was assured.

His assignment was one requested by a very important client of the Cartel. He’d heard rumors circulating for the past year, regarding an exclusive contract between the Gradis and the representative of an unnamed entity. Following the demise of Frandon G’Bur and the collapse of the hierarchy of the organization, this affiliation was welcomed by the new leadership, an affirmation of the continued viability of the organization. It also helped redeem the spirits of the membership.

And after the recent horrors of the Mad Aris Kracion, the Gradis was poised to gain even more power and prestige, feeding on the panic and confusion of the aftermath. TeraDon would do his part, and as a result, he would be rewarded. There were still positions to be filled at the top of the leadership ladder, and TeraDon was determined to claim a spot for himself.

And now that he had been brought into the inner circle regarding the goals of this powerful client, it was a sign that his effectiveness was being noticed by the higher-ups.

But then his mood was dashed the moment he and his team entered the broken down starship, resting as it was atop the crumpled remains of another.

Everyone was dead, including the first Gradis team sent in, along with four unidentified beings. He had the report in his datapad, indicating two Humans were found aboard, but according to Draunus and the video records, they had been secured by the team and not a threat. So who were these others?

He sent his team in fully armed and ready, but the ship was a tomb, and after a quick accounting, he found that the Humans were not among the casualties. TeraDon scowled. Humans! They were the bane of the galaxy, always an annoyance, if not worse. Now they were gone, having left TeraDon with a mess of incalculable consequences.

The client representative—a creature known simply as Te’moc—had specifically requested that the Humans be transported to the Gradis Section for his personal interrogation. That was not to be, not now. How that would affect the overall contract, TeraDon didn’t know. But still, he was obligated to inform the client.

* * *

Te’moc’s dark figure appeared on the screen. He listened without interruption as TeraDon described the scene within the starship.

“And the Humans are gone?” Te’moc asked. Even through the translation device, his voice took on a strange, ominous quality. It was almost as if it was spoken through liquid, a gurgling sound, yet still conveying power in its delivery. “Have you surveyed the other video accounts? How was this assault on your people carried out? It must be as I suspect.”

“I have assistants doing so at the moment. They will report important items as they are found. But it appears the battle was between two parties armed with traditional bolt launchers. There is nothing to indicate otherwise.”

“However, I warned you. Your failure to destroy the ship in space meant there would be a greater risk during its acquisition on the planet.” Te’moc was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, reddish eyes bore into TeraDon. “This is twice I have guided the actions of the Gradis, and twice you have failed me. In both instances, you had overwhelming force and adequate preparedness. Perhaps my confidence in your organization has been misplaced.”

TeraDon pursed his thick lips. He did not appreciate anyone talking such of the Gradis, even a valued client. As a matter of fact, he didn’t understand the dynamic at work with the mysterious Te’moc. It was unusual for the Cartel to have clients in the first place. The Gradis usually took what they wanted and guided their own fortunes and activities. But now the leadership was taking orders from this creature, this outsider.

“It is my understanding that you would not have been this far along on your quest if not for the efforts of the Gradis. Was it not we who infiltrated the military archives on Earth to secure the information that originally brought you to us?”

“That is true, but now that I have the scent, I grow frustrated with the lack of results. Where are the Humans now? I sense movement in my quarry.”

“They cannot be far. The timestamps on the videos show only twenty minutes have lapped since the massacre. We will search other vids to determine which direction they took and where they could be headed.”

“Where would Humans go in Yanish-kas? Do they have a presence there?”

“Not that I know of. That will make our job easier.”

Te’moc shook his head. “Your job is anything but easy. You do not understand the forces at work here. And now that these forces are aware of the danger they face and are free to act, I very much doubt the Gradis Cartel has the resources on Sasin for the effort. Therefore, I will place an open contract to all within Yanish-kas. I want the Humans found—especially the female. There is something not right. That uncertainty can be very deadly. The Gradis can still fulfill the contract if you complete the mission first. Otherwise, the reward will go to any who can perform.”

“You cannot trust the Tribes,” TeraDon protested. “They are savages. If you wish the Humans to remain alive, you will need us.”

“Who said anything about needing them alive?”

10

It was a strange kind of darkness that descended over Yanish-kas. With electricity at a premium, there were few lit structures, along with even fewer streetlamps along the E-4 roadway. Instead, small fires took their place, glowing a soft orange and causing shadows to flicker with a life of their own, creating phantom movement everywhere. This was not to say there weren’t real creatures along the route. There were thousands of them. The city was packed with the refuse from a hundred worlds, and blatant acts of cruelty were being committed out in the open, causing Summer to recoil from the horrific scene outside the car. She could see firsthand how various species treated others not of their kind. In nearly all cases, the weakest among them became food for the more powerful or better armed. Supposedly intelligent creatures were feeding on raw carcasses, all in a desperate struggle to stay alive for one more day.

Most of those moving in roving gangs had the stained foreheads of their various tribes, displaying ugly and prominent swatches of either red, black, white, yellow or blue. These represented the five Tribes of Sasin. With her eyes frantically scanning the sidewalks and intersections of the roadway, she listened to Tidus explain more of the societal structure of Sasin and the city of Yanish-kas in particular.

“The ones with the brightest stains are the newest members, recently acquired at the auctions. The duller the stain, the more senior the member. They are referred to as palefaces.”

Monty looked over from his driving duties. “No shit? That’s funny.”

“I do not understand?”

“It’s a Human thing, Tidus,” said Summer. “Go on.”

“We are currently traveling the E-4 thoroughfare. There are six other main transit lines throughout the city, each the border between opposing Tribes. The main roadways form a neutral zone of sorts, along with a thin buffer on each side. This allows for travel within the city without constant battles taking place. The lowliest members guard the sectors against deeper intrusion. You will notice some do not have stains on their foreheads. These unfortunate creatures are the outcasts who have been designated as general food stock. They are released along the thoroughfares to satiate the wanderers. More often than not, they end up being slaughtered on the streets, which is the intent. Other species are bid on by the Tribes and processed in a more organized manner and fed to the masses. However, the feral beasts we see here are used to feed the lowest of the Tribe members as a means of keeping them content.”

“That’s disgusting,” said Summer. “They aren’t even cooking them.”

“Some do. But in the rush to kill and consume before others move in, there often is not time to properly prepare the meal.” He pointed to the right. “That is the Red sector, the largest of the Tribes. Across the street is the Yellow. As a general rule, Tribal leadership cooperate with each other for basic services and seldom engage in major conflicts. This has been the way of Sasin and the city of Yanish-kas for many generations. However, with the current influx of refugees, the pressure on the leaders to provide for their members is rapidly reaching a breaking point. Huge raiding parties often attack the neighboring sectors, which then create retaliatory responses.” He checked the datapad. “Monty, we will be turning left in about ten minutes and entering the Blue Sector. This is a secondary roadway. We will be challenged as we enter.”

“So what do we do?”

“I will attempt to use Anoc’s ID as a pass. But we should be prepared. Fortunately, Tribal security is not very well organized. If it is necessary for us to fight our way through the checkpoint, a single vehicle like this should be able to get lost in the community before others arrive.”

“How far is it to Anoc’s compound?”

“The datapad has converted the distance to your miles. We still have nineteen to go.”

“And how far have we gone?” Summer asked.

“Three.”

“Only three! Everyone outside is looking at us. At what point will they try to stop us?”

“As long as we stay on the main thoroughfares—”

“Which we’re about to turn off of in ten minutes.”

Tidus nodded. “Yes, the journey will become exponentially more difficult at that point.”

“And this is better than simply heading out of town and making for the country?”

“It would take longer to do so,” said Tidus. “The spaceport is in the center of the city. It would take three hours in any direction, and then we would not be safe. The Wilds are even more dangerous than within. There is no order there, not even that of the Tribes.”

Then a thought occurred to Summer. “And what happens when Adam gets here? Do we have to turn around and go back to the spaceport, or will he come to us?”

“I do not know. I have a communicator, and undoubtedly Anoc has more sophisticated equipment at his compound. We will contact Adam when he gets closer and make arrangements.”

Tidus looked ahead. There was a roundabout coming up. More correctly, it was a circular road wrapping around a large park, or what had once been a park. There was a monolith standing in the center although it was now mostly covered in graffiti and other tags, along with several burn marks from flash weapons. The once green grass was gone, replaced now by a uniform field of black dirt. There were at least a hundred separate fires burning in the park, which made it the brightest point in this part of the city. And the place was packed with creatures of all descriptions. A large, horse-like beast with muscular arms projecting from its torso munched on a smaller, Prime being, occasionally stopping to snort and stomp its front legs at others trying to steal its meal. Other creatures were being run down and devoured by savage gangs. The entire place appeared to be one huge buffet of alien flesh.

It was a strange sensation watching the crowd glare at the black vehicle as it made the loop around the park on the way to the secondary road. But something wasn’t right. Aliens, who moments before were individuals engaged in a fight to survive, were now talking with each other, staring and pointing. A group of beasts in tattered uniforms stepped from the gathering crowd. They carried communicators and Xan-fi flash rifles. Two of them were speaking into their comm devices.

“What’s this all about?” Monty asked. It was like a wave was sweeping over the park, taking everyone with it. Groups with blue, red and yellow stains on their foreheads were clustering together, as more weapons appeared and obvious factions formed.

“I don’t like this,” Summer said. “Do they react this way to every car that comes by?”

“That is highly unlikely,” Tidus said. He was right. Although seeing another vehicle on the road at night was a rarity, it wasn’t unheard of. They’d already passed several during their brief trip. “They appear to be paying special attention to us.”

“The Cartel has put out the word; they’re looking for us,” Monty offered.

Tidus waved a hand at the gathering crowd outside. “These beings do not take orders from the Cartel. The only thing that would cause such a reaction is the promise of credits.”

“So they offered a bounty. That would explain it,” said Summer.

“Again, I ask the universal question: why?” said Tidus. “Why is the Gradis so focused on us?”

“A question for another time,” Monty said, his voice tense. “They’re coming out into the road. They’re trying to block us.”

A squad of the uniformed aliens was the first to make a move. They stepped from the park and into the road, weapons leveled at the car. Monty wasn’t having any of it. It was bad enough to be chased by the Cartel. But to be swarmed over by a ravenous horde of savages in the middle of the deadliest city in the galaxy was another. He gunned the electric motor, sending the heavy transport crashing into four of the yellow stains. The bodies tumbled onto the hood and over the windshield before rolling off the back. As it was with most aliens in the galaxy, their bones were thinner and more brittle than Humans, the result of evolving in a gravity rated at about three-quarters that of Earth. None of the creatures Monty hit survived.

Now others were opening up with the flash rifles. Fortunately, Anoc’s armored vehicle could take the hits. But now fifty or more beings from the park were rushing forward, some with sticks, others with what appeared to be bones, striking the car with all the force they could muster.

“Get us out of here, dad!”

“I’m trying!”

The vehicle bumped several times as the thick wheels crushed bodies and kept moving. Monty didn’t bother with continuing the loop around the park to his turnoff, which would have prolonged their exposure to the massive crowd. Instead, he revved the motor and shot off along E-4, missing his turnoff.

“We have to get to the compound,” Tidus stated. “It is the only place we will be safe.”

“Yeah, but let’s get away from the crowd first. Then we can use the side roads.”

The mob was left behind, but not the two vehicles that pulled in behind them. More flash bolts came their way.

“Hold on!” Monty ordered. Then he slammed on the brakes.

The trailing car crashed in the back of their transport, with the second pursuit car hitting the first. All three vehicles came to a stop. Tidus jumped out, an MK-17 in each hand.

Each of the pursuit cars had creatures inside them wearing the tattered uniforms, their foreheads stained in yellow. They were Tribal members, not Cartel. Without waiting for the targeting computers to vibrate, the Juirean filled the interiors with brilliant flashes of light, draining the power packs in his weapons. These were not armored vehicles, so glass shattered, exposing the occupants to the deadly plasma bolts. In the end, eight aliens died.

Tidus was back in the car a moment later, taking replacement power packs from Summer and popping them into his weapons.

“Take that side road,” he said to Monty, pointing. The Human turned left.

The road narrowed considerably, although it was also packed with an assortment of aliens, all grubby and emaciated. Most got out of the way of the speeding vehicle; however, a few didn’t. Monty didn’t care.

“Where to now?”

Tidus was watching the screen on his datapad.

“Stay here. You should come to—”

Suddenly, Monty slammed on the brakes, their way blocked by a cluster of derelict vehicles. These were rusted hulks, looking to have been abandoned years before.

“Back up!” Summer cried out.

Monty obliged, but he didn’t get far. The road was narrow, and he had to crash into the crumbling remains of a deserted storefront to get any kind of maneuvering room. That’s when another car came barreling down the street from the direction of E-4. It smashed into the side of the transport as it tried to turn around, caving in the door on the driver’s side. The motor died.

“Take the weapons! Everyone out,” Monty ordered.

All they had were handguns with a limited number of power packs, two projection blades and Summer’s bow. Tidus slipped out of his side of the car, followed by Monty and Summer.

Flash bolts streaked past them, fired from the three creatures exiting the other car. Even with their targeting computers engaged, the shots were off. The computers weren’t calibrated for rapidly moving objects.

The Humans and the Juirean had no such limitation. Without waiting for permission from a microchip, all three opened fire, burning holes into their attackers.

“We must conserve our batteries,” Tidus mentioned. “It is still a distance to the compound, and now we must travel on foot.

Summer glanced along the street, seeing the hungry and desperate looks on the nightmarish mix of alien faces staring at her. Even with the abbreviated gunfight, they didn’t seem scared. Instead, they were slowly working their way closer.

“What is it with these people?” Summer asked. “Do they have a death wish?”

Two of the closest aliens—skinny-as-a-rail creatures of the same race—jumped for Monty, draping their long figures over the much shorter but stockier Human. Although he was in constant pain from his injury, Monty was still a bull of a man and spitting mad. Even among Humans, he was a force to be reckoned with. Against aliens, it wasn’t even a contest. He gripped one of the hands holding his bare arm and pulled, hearing the ear-shattering screech of the creature as his limb was pulled from the shoulder. But Monty wasn’t done. He then proceeded to use the detached arm from the first alien to bash the second to the ground, before unceremoniously stomping on its large head, crushing it like a tomato, red pulp and all.

Monty’s defense finally had an impact on the aliens around them, at least enough to allow the trio to past through the line of bodies and into a relatively clear part of the road. They began to run.

“Slow down,” Monty called out to Summer. When she looked back, she was twenty yards ahead of her father—who although injured—was ten yards ahead of the seven-foot-tall Juirean. Summer had never seen a Juirean run, and she almost burst out laughing seeing the alien’s gangly gait. Although his stride was long, he also appeared to move in slow-motion, at least as compared to the Humans.

She slowed, allowing the others to catch up.

Sirens blared all around, and they could hear the buzzing of electric motors as vehicles raced up and down adjacent streets. The road they were on had long ago surrendered to overcrowding and was used more for tents and lean-tos than for motorized vehicles. That kept the swifter pursuit confined to the flanking streets, even as curious, yet desperate, pedestrians followed at a safe distance.

“Does it seem to you as if the whole city is after us?” Summer asked.

“It would appear so,” the Juirean agreed.

“How much farther to Anoc’s house?”

Tidus grimaced. “You do not want to know.”

“We have to find another car.”

“That would be a solution. We should move to the other streets to find one.”

They entered a dilapidated building and passed through its dark and crumbling structure to reach the other side. There were refugees here, too, but they weren’t aware of what was going on outside, except for the noise and confusion. Instead, vacant eyes simply stared, surrendering to whatever fate the invaders had in store for them. The team moved swiftly, ignoring the occupants.

Tidus stopped suddenly. He took the bag of weapons from Summer.

“Only four power packs left.” He handed them to Monty, along with his MK-17s. “You take these.” Then he pulled out the two projection blades, giving one to Summer. “Have you ever used one of these?”

“No. What good is a foot-long sword going to be against flash weapons?”

Tidus pressed a button on the pommel of his weapon. The blade extended out to a meter long, with a faint, neon-blue light painting both sides of the blade.

“This is a projection blade. It contains a very thin laser running from pommel to tip on both sides of the blade. It burns at a temperature of two thousand degrees and will cut through almost any material. Please be careful when wielding the weapon. It has no safety feature to protect friendly forces.”

Summer pressed the release button, and her blade came to life. She smiled. The weapon was light in her hands, and she was mesmerized by the soft glow along the double edge. “Cool.”

“I doubt Monty will be able to handle such a weapon efficiently with his injury,” said the Juirean. “He will use the flash devices and the limited power packs while the two of us resort to this more primitive backup weapon. Once again, please be careful, Summer. I do not wish to lose a limb to an errant sweep of your blade.”

“I’ll be careful.”

She stepped back and swung the blade a few times. It didn’t seem too difficult to use.

“Press the button to retract the extension and turn off the laser. The weapon then becomes simply a short sword.”

“Got it. Now, let’s go. The natives are getting restless.”

* * *

They could see another road through the broken façade of the building, this one wider and clear of obstacles, but there wasn’t an opportunity to hijack one of the many vehicles racing along the street. Most traveled in caravans of three or more, packed full of a menagerie of aliens sticking out of the windows or cutout roofs and wielding a variety of weapons. The team ducked for cover as the vehicles passed.

“What the hell is going on?” Summer asked. “The whole place is going crazy.”

Just then, two of the caravans met coming from opposite directions. Cars screeched to a halt, angled diagonally across the road as their occupants jumped out, took cover and began firing at each other. Summer could see the red on the foreheads of the closest group, now engaged in a deadly fight with the blues.

“Others are invading the sector,” Tidus said over the din of the battle. “The bounty must be substantial. I also fear for restraint by the participants. I am quite aware of capture techniques for fugitives. There is too much random fire taking place to ensure our survival should capture occur.”

“You mean they want us dead or alive?” Summer asked.

“That is a fair assumption. Come; we must move.”

Using the firefight as cover, the trio moved through the murky darkness to a point beyond the battle. The deeper they moved into the Blue sector, the fewer of the refugees were aware of what was going on and simply wanted to save themselves from the violence. They ignored the two short Humans and taller Juirean moving among them. There was a general exodus heading south, farther into the sector.

“What’s that?” Monty asked, pointing to a glow above a craggy, black skyline silhouette.

Tidus glanced at his datapad.

“It is a Blue processing center for both refugees and food stock. It will be a center of maximum Tribal control. Members in this sector must be going there seeking protection.”

“That would mean better-trained troops guarding the place,” Monty stated.

“Perhaps, along with confusion from the influx of members seeking shelter.”

“Confusion works for me,” Summer said. “Let’s join the party.”

The street fighting tapered off around the huge complex of buildings, well-lit within a sea of darkness and intermittent orange fire. There were huge numbers of neighborhood creatures here, all surging toward the boundary of the facility. There was no formal wall; the facility was well within the Blue sector and protected by its location. Or at least it had been. Although no fighting was taking place in sight of the complex, the flares of flash weapons lit up the night.

Along the way, the team found discarded cloth which they used to wrap their heads and shoulders in hoods and scarves, concealing their identity. Now they were lost in a sea of alien flesh, comprised of a hundred different species. No one paid them any special attention.

But there was a phalanx of guards circling the facility, keeping the mob at bay. These were much healthier and more imposing creatures, the best of the refugees recruited specifically for their size and skill. They showed no reluctance at firing into the crowd when things grew too unruly. To Summer’s shock, this didn’t cause wholesale panic, rather sad acceptance. It was almost as if the refugees were hoping to be blasted out of their misery by a well-placed flash bolt.

“We must get to the other side,” said Tidus.

Summer wasn’t paying attention. They were close enough for her to see into the complex and the line of emaciated and dejected aliens being herded toward one of the buildings. These creatures were mostly of a singular race; small, weak beings with almost pure white skin. Although a fair number of guards had been pulled for perimeter duty, there was still a rough line of hulking beasts prodding the aliens forward. Summer didn’t have to be told what was happening. This was the line for the slaughterhouse.

Summer watched in shock as the last remnants of a race of intelligent creatures were marched forward, like prisoners to the German gas chambers. She felt bile climb in her throat. It had only been a little over a year since Kracion began his deadly campaign, and in that short time, the history of an entire species was coming to a pitiful end. These creatures could not have seen it coming. Nor did they deserve it.

Summer gnashed her teeth. Nearly everything she’d seen or experienced since taking that first fateful step into the galaxy in search of her father had been a sickening disappointment. The Milky Way was not a nice place, even without the Mad Aris stirring things up. Now it was so much worse.

Summer suddenly shifted direction, pressing herself through the crowd and toward the line of white-skinned aliens. She was well within the kill zone by the time Monty and Tidus noticed.

By then, the guards holding back the surging crowd had noticed her. Weapon barrels turned her way.

A moment later, Summer had her projection blade out and fully extended, the leading edge glowing a soft blue. She moved with uncharacteristic quickness and was among the line of guards in the blink of an eye. She swung the blade low, marveling at the ease with which the legs of the aliens became severed with barely a trace of resistance. The star-hot laser cauterized most of the wounds, even though there was still blood—lots of blood. The first three guards sprawled on the ground, moaning from the pain, as the life drained from their bodies.

Then more guards noticed and came to the aid of their comrades. A flash bolt was released in Summer’s direction. She lifted the blade as a shield. The plasma ball contacted the sword and flared before its energy faded away. She didn’t know the laser could counteract the effects of an energy bolt. This was good to know.

Her movements were becoming even swifter, more fluid. She danced between two guards, stabbing one in the chest before moving the blade to the side, leaving the body of the first to slice across the stomach of the second. Her attack was accomplished in one stroke and at blazing speed.

Then she noticed the flashes from other bolts being fired to her side. But they weren’t aimed at her. Monty moved up, but well out of range of the deadly sword. Tidus had his blade out but had yet to reach any of the guards before they backed away in panic. With the breakdown in the defensive line, the refugees surged forward, penetrating deeper into the complex. There was mass panic, on the parts of both the guards and the mob. It carried over to the line of placid white creatures and the aliens guarding them. Some of the tiny beings began to run, seeing an opportunity to escape the slaughterhouse and without thinking about what happens next. A moment later, this side of the processing center was lost to the raging horde.

Summer saw all this happen with clarity and awareness, and not a trace of fear. She stopped, holding the humming blade out in front of her in a defensive posture. What was happening to her? Then she felt a familiar sensation. It was the same as aboard the Forty when the Cartel first attacked. She felt possessed, not under control of her own movements. Then she looked around. The crowd was avoiding her and the bodies lying at her feet, giving her a unobstructed view of her handiwork. There were six of them; she could barely recall the fight.

She shivered. It had to be J’nae, the ominous presence from her dreams. Her shiver was not from the idea of another consciousness inside her, but rather from the thought of what would have happened had J’nae not taken over. She’d acted on impulse to save the white creatures from the slaughterhouse. Would she have had the reaction time and skill to survive her impulse had it not been for J’nae?

It was only after she retracted the blade that Tidus and Monty approached close enough to speak to her.

“What the hell, Summer?” Monty asked. “You trying to get yourself killed? What happens on this planet has nothing to do with us. Stop trying to save every lost kitten you find.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Let us move,” Tidus prompted. “There is ample confusion and disarray to allow us to get to the other side of the facility and resume our journey. And, Summer, please no more acts of emotion. We still have a long way to go.”

11

There were still thousands of aliens moving toward the processing center, making the three fugitives stand out as they moved in the opposite direction. They were tired and moved more slowly now. The sounds of fighting began to taper off the farther they moved into the Blue Sector. Tidus told them they were still seven miles from Anoc’s home.

Summer allowed her mind to wander, consumed by questions for which she had no answer. She was scared, as well as mad. She was mad at Adam Cain for infecting her with some kind of alien disease which she knew was trying to take over her body. Even now, she felt the dark presence clouding her mind. She fought consciously to keep it at bay. Since the recent battles, the feeling had only grown stronger, the ominous sensation no longer confined to just her dreams.

And yet she was also scared because of the consequences. Twice now she was convinced the presence had saved her life, along with that of her father and Tidus. Aboard the Forty, the strange effect was welcome. At the processing facility, it was her reckless impulse that had placed them in jeopardy. If not for J’nae’s help, she would have surely died.

But now she fought against that reality, fearful that at the next occurrence J’nae may not relinquish control after the event. The fear was debilitating, causing her to suspect her every emotion, every action. The thing inside her was real that she was sure. She was no longer herself. It was as if there was someone constantly looking over her shoulder, watching. But it was more than that. This thing could also control her movements. How long would it last, she didn’t know, but she feared the truth. Was this to become her new existence?

Are you there? she asked in her mind. Can you understand me?

She was disappointed when silence was the answer. But there was something; a warmth, a vibration of sorts running along her spine. It could just be nerves, she thought. If the essence of J’nae was within her, then why does it not speak?

She was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts by the arrival of a beat up topless transport cutting in front of them, blocking the street. Five aliens with red swatches on their foreheads crowded the vehicle, deadly Xan-fi flash rifles pointed at them.

Another car appeared behind them, also filled with savage-looking and armed aliens.

Monty had his MKs out, while Summer and Tidus drew their projection swords. There came a tense standoff.

One of the aliens in the lead car then jumped down. His swatch was of a lighter color than the others, making it pink rather than red. He would be a paleface, a senior member of the Tribe. He wore an MK around his waist but didn’t bother pulling it. Instead, two other beings of different races jumped down from the car as well, flanking their leader with flash rifles leveled at the fugitives

“Relinquish your energy weapons,” he demanded of Monty. He barely acknowledged the existence of the projection swords. There were eight flash rifles aimed at the trio.

Monty dropped his weapons. Then the alien turned to another of his troops still in the car. “Contact the Council. Tell them we have the fugitives.”

He then turned to Summer and Tidus. “And the swords, as well.”

Summer was conflicted. Even if she could, should she call upon J’nae again? The numerical odds were no different than before, but the Reds were in a better offensive position. If she tried to resist, would it get them killed? And in such a dire need, would it be enough of a surrendering of her soul that J’nae would take over completely?

I need you, but please, don’t take me away. Summer nearly cried the thought in her mind.

She gasped a moment later when it appeared as if her awareness shrank and her body grew. She could still see, but it was like she was in a wide tunnel, looking out. This had not happened before, but she knew what it was. J’nae was here.

The glowing edge of the projection blade moved in the blink of an eye, sheering off the barrels of the flash rifles to either side of the boss alien. Then Summer—J’nae—was behind the alien, an arm reaching up to encircle his neck and with the glowing blade only inches from his face. Large yellow eyes stared at the neon blue of the laser, filled with panic.

“Tell the others to lower their weapons,” Summer heard herself saying. The tone was firm and unmistakable. She meant business. She squeezed harder when the alien hesitated.

“Hold!” said the paleface. “Surrender your weapons.”

There was a moment of uncertainty, while the rag-tag gang of Tribal members considered the consequences. They were not the most-disciplined soldiers. Would they follow orders when their welfare was at stake?

Slowly, weapons began to hit the pavement. Soon, all were disarmed. Monty and Tidus rushed to gather up the rifles and handguns.

“Put the weapons in the lead car,” Summer ordered. No one was questioning her at the moment.

She released the alien and spun him around.

“Why is the Cartel chasing us? What have they offered you?”

“The Tribe will receive ten million Juirean credits for the return of your bodies. Twenty million if you are still alive. However, it is not the Cartel that offers the bounty.”

“Not the Cartel? Then who?”

“I do not know. That is Council business. All I know is the Gradis is also searching, along with the other Tribes. I know not why you are being sought.”

Summer looked to Tidus and Monty. They were near the first car, looking as puzzled as she. Then with a wave of the still-glowing projection sword, Summer guided the Reds into a small cluster, after which she went to the second vehicle, and with a swipe of the blade, sliced off the front quarter panel, along with half the tire and rim.

“You are free to go,” she heard her voice saying.

“But without weapons or transportation, we will not make it back to the Red Sector alive.”

“You should have thought of that before you came after us.”

“We were only following orders.”

“And that is why I don’t kill you here and now.”

She turned to Monty and Tidus. “Let’s go.”

They didn’t have to be told twice. Monty once again took the driver’s seat while Tidus navigated. Summer climbed into the back, which was now piled high with flash rifles and other assorted weapons. They drove off down the street.

Summer suddenly realized her vision was back to normal, no longer as if she was in a tunnel. She caught a nervous glance from Tidus, who quickly turned away to look at his datapad.

“We are fifteen minutes away, without any further interruptions,” he reported.

Summer looked back at the cluster of Reds. Paleface was in the center of the crowd, his arms flailing as others around him were engaged in a heated argument. It only lasted a moment before the group suddenly turned and ran off into the darkness. They had a long way to go. Most wouldn’t make it out of the Blue Sector alive.

12

They could see Anoc’s neighborhood a few minutes before reaching it. It was a low-lying hill in the middle of the urban sprawl, made up of a series of tall, slender buildings which resembled porcupine needles in the distance. Most of the towers were lit better than the surrounding neighborhood, signifying a more affluent section of town. Summer stood up, feeling the stagnant air on her face. She scanned the area.

“There’s no place for Adam to land, not on gravity or chemical drive.”

“And the buildings themselves are too narrow to hold adequate landing fields,” Tidus added.

“I thought you said he had a compound?” Monty barked. “Ain’t no compounds around here.”

“We will deal with Adam Cain when the time comes,” Tidus said. “Let us first identify which of the towers belongs to Anoc.”

The Juirean held the datapad up to the distant hill. The address was still programmed in the device, and instantly one of the towers lit up. It was on the right side of the hill and about halfway down.

The car had a pair of dim lights on the front, protected by wire grills. Monty turned them off, allowing the vehicle to blend with the darkness. They reached the base of the hill a minute later.

The road was clearer here without the expected broken down vehicles or hovels, even though they didn’t pass through any security to reach the hill. Instead, they noticed each of the buildings had high perimeter catwalks where guards patrolled. Anoc’s property was no different. Dim lights showed the distant figures, dark lines at their sides signifying they were armed with flash rifles.

Monty parked the car across the street from the gate leading to the base of Anoc’s tower. Through the thick bars, they could see a small parking area beyond the barrier. A security box was on the wall to the left of the gate.

“Anoc’s ID should activate the gate, yet the guards will surely notice, after which inquiries will be made and protocols engaged,” Tidus whispered. The guards were easily a hundred meters away, almost directly above them. Summer didn’t think he had to whisper.

Monty looked in the backseat. “We do have plenty of flash rifles. They have the range.”

“That would be too dangerous. Their flash will light up the night and alert guards in the other towers. Surely there must be a relationship between the security personnel. Besides, we do not know what security there is inside the building.”

“I supposed we could climb over the wall, or even up the tower to get to the guards.”

Tidus shook his head. What followed was a pregnant silence as each of them pondered the problem.

“I could try to take them out with arrows,” Summer offered.

Monty looked at her, then back to the guard station. “That’s got to be a hundred meters or more. Is that possible?”

Summer gave him an awkward smile. “We’ll never know unless I try.”

“I know some strange things have been happening to you, but damn. That would be a miracle shot. And it’s not just one target.”

“I think I can do it. I can’t tell you why—not now—but I think it’s possible.”

“I say let her try,” Tidus offered. “The weapon is silent. And even if she misses, there may be minimal exposure.”

Monty shrugged.

Summer had the bow slung across her back, along with the quiver. She didn’t carry bladed arrows, but the ones she had would do the trick if she could even get them to reach that distance. She hadn’t had an opportunity to practice in the varying gravities of the worlds she’d visited, but this should be one of her simpler shots. It was essentially straight up so she wouldn’t have to factor in the drop as much. And the lighter gravity meant the arrows would fly farther.

The issue would be targeting. It was night, and the catwalk was barely lit. Fortunately, the guards weren’t very mobile. They stood a few meters from each other, boredom evident in each guard’s stance.

“I can hardly see the targets from this distance,” Tidus commented. “Under these conditions, I hope Human eyesight is better than Juirean.”

Summer prepared her bow. She had balancing rods clipped to the quiver. She removed them and screwed them into the bow. For these shots, she would need her full arsenal of accessories. She attached the D-loop to the primary drawcord and the trigger device to the loop. She had experienced with competition speed shooting, but this was ridiculous. If she pulled this off, she deserved two gold medals.

Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, feeling for the dark presence in her mind. If you’re there, I could sure use your help about now.

She felt the strange vibration again. It gave her confidence.

Summer brought the bow up and aimed through the peep sight and the main targeting circle. Unlike before, her vision remained at the forefront. She didn’t know if this was good or bad. Was J’nae guiding her actions or not? She notched an arrow, while a second one dangled from her trigger hand, ready to be placed in position the moment she released the first.

She leaned back, lining up on the target far above.

That’s when her vision suddenly cleared, and it was as if she saw in the light of midday. Not only that, but the targets appeared closer and more defined. She could make out their figures, seeing the detail of their weapons and uniforms. She brought the targeting dot onto the first guard, aiming for center mass.

Normally, she would move the bow in a small spiral motion, circling the aiming dot until it fell upon the target. But now the dot remained rock steady as if the bow was held in an immovable vice. She was locked on and with nothing else to do but press the trigger.

The arrow was away, and a moment later, the second one was notched, lined up and released, even before the first reached its target.

To Monty and Tidus, it was as if both arrows reached their targets at the same time. The guards fell where they stood. There was a tense moment as the trio watched for any movement through the open grate of the catwalk floor. All was still and quiet.

“Great shot, Sum!” Monty said, reaching back to pat her shoulder. Tidus was out of the car a breath later, sprinting awkwardly across the road to the security box at the gate. He swept Anoc’s ID card, and the gate slid sideways. Monty had the car through the opening before the gate fully opened. The Juirean rushed to the other side of the wall and activated another control, closing the gate.

Monty pulled the car to the side of the building, out of sight of the entrance. They still had the question of security inside the building. Were the two guards the only ones on the premises? At least from the inside flash bolts would be masked from view to anyone on the outside.

“That was incredible,” Monty complimented, still in shock.

Summer was pretty impressed herself. She wondered how much of it was her and how much was J’nae? At the moment, she was back in control of her body, even though she hadn’t experienced the same degree of possession as before. Perhaps firing the bow required more skill than even J’nae could master in such a short span? This time, it was more of a cooperative effort on the part of host and phantom. Still… that was some awesome shooting!

Monty and Tidus geared up with MKs and Xan-fis, ready to enter the building. There was a main entrance, also with a security box. Nothing was taken for granted on Sasin. Merely getting through the gate wasn’t enough.

Summer took one of the Xan-fi rifles. She was okay with the MK handguns, but felt more comfortable wielding a rifle, even if it was of alien design. She and Monty flanked the doorway while Tidus triggered the controls.

Relieved at not having been met by a barrage of flash bolts coming from inside, the trio moved past the door and into the interior of the building. There was a foyer area, appearing more like a maze than an entryway, designed to thwart any frontal assault. They moved past the barriers and entered a larger living area. There was furniture, flat screen monitors and a small food processing center along the far wall. The room wasn’t exceptionally large, and the team could see wide stairways leading to other levels above and below. The tower was narrow and comprised of several floors. Considering the height of the building and what they could see here, Summer figured there had to be ten or more floors.

“I will move up and check on the guards,” said Tidus. “Because of Monty’s condition, he should survey the middle floors with fewer stairs. Summer, please check below.”

“Bring back my arrows, if you can,” she said to the Juirean. “I don’t have many to spare.”

The team split up. Summer took a series of short stairs to the lower levels, finding a variety of rooms filled with technical equipment along the way. There was also a small armory. At the bottom, she came upon a command center, with active monitoring screens aglow. She watched on one of them as Tidus cautiously made his way onto the catwalk, crouching as he neared the fallen bodies of the guards, aware of the overlooking security stations in the nearby buildings. He dragged the bodies to a doorway, hiding them from view of any curious onlookers. She didn’t see whether he recovered her arrows.

Next to the command center was a heavy metal door with another security box on the wall. Probably a secondary escape route, she imagined. It was good to know it was here. With no additional guards on the lower levels, she returned to the central floor.

Monty was at the food processor, already chowing down on a serving of brown mush.

“You do know that stuff is probably made from those white-skinned aliens we saw at the processing center?”

“I don’t care. They taste like chicken… and I’m famished.”

Tidus arrived a moment later, carrying two bloody arrows. He handed them to Summer. “Each shot was dead center,” he said. “Amazing. I could barely make out the figures from where we stood, and yet you….” He let his sentence trail off. Then changing the subject: “I also found a small landing pad on top of the building. But do not elevate your hopes. It is not rated for a spaceship landing, not even a shuttle. It is merely for atmospheric vehicles.”

“So, all is quiet?” Summer asked the alien. She sat down on one of the long sofas and sprawled out, placing her dirty shoes on Anoc’s off-white cushions. She felt a vindictive sense of satisfaction from doing so.

“It would appear we are alone. No other guards on duty.”

“Good. There’s a central command station on the bottom floor. We can monitor the entire building from there, including the street outside.”

“Eight hours until Adam’s arrival,” Tidus said, before looking hard at Summer, causing her to lock eyes with his. “If you do not mind, Summer Rains, I would like to take this opportunity for an inquiry.”

Summer grimaced. She knew this moment was coming; there just hadn’t been time until now to explain. Even then, she wasn’t sure what she would say. But then Monty brought his meal over to a neighboring chair and sat down, looking expectantly at her. He wanted to know, as well.

Summer sat up, facing Monty and Tidus. “You know when Adam fed me that essence of J’nae stuff back at the Aris station? Well, there seems to have been some side effects.”

“I thought Panur and Lila said it was just a stimulant, that it didn’t work on people like you and me?” Monty said.

“Not for immortality, apparently. But for other things.”

Suddenly, all the fear and apprehension of the past three days came crashing down on her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her emotions took over. “I’m scared, daddy,” she blurted out, catching Monty and Tidus by surprise. Monty dropped his food and came to his daughter, wrapping her in his thick arms. “I don’t know what’s happening, but she’s inside me,” she continued.

“Who is inside you?” Tidus asked.

“That Sol-Kor bitch, J’nae! I can feel her, and at times, she takes over my body. You’ve seen it.” Summer pulled away and stared with manic eyes at her father. “I’m afraid she’s going to take all of me.”

“It’s all right, sweetie,” her father said. “When we get back to the Behemoth we’ll get Panur and Lila on it. I’m sure they’ll have the answers. They always do.”

“But they don’t! They said this has never happened with a biologic before. They don’t have a clue what’s happening to me. Besides, they’re getting ready to chase the Aris, and if you remember, they’re not taking us along. What am I supposed to do?”

“Are you in control of your faculties at this moment?” Tidus asked.

Summer turned to him, her eyes flaring. “What the fuck do you think? Would an immortal Sol-Kor bitch be crying like this? She would be in more control. And that’s what she wants, control.”

“Can you communicate with her?” Monty asked.

Summer shook her head. “Not really, not verbally anyway. I just get these feelings. But they’re getting stronger. She’s getting stronger!”

“And yet she has helped us,” Tidus pointed out. “Perhaps this is not as bad as you suspect.”

“I have another creature living inside me, Tidus! Of course it’s as bad as I suspect. She’s here all the time. You have no idea what that feels like. I’m never alone. It’s driving me crazy.”

“She seems to only come at times of stress,” Monty offered. “Perhaps now that we’re safe—and with Adam due here in a few hours—she won’t be so…so aggressive. Try to relax. We’ll get Adam to hook us up with the mutants when he gets here. Even though you say they don’t know what’s happening, maybe they can figure it out.”

“Your father is correct, Summer. For now, let us eat and rest. We should sleep in shifts. I will take the first sentry period.”

“I can’t sleep! She comes to me in my dreams. And after all that’s happened today, I’m afraid to close my eyes.”

Monty pressed her back on the couch. “Please try. I’ll be here with you. If I notice anything, I’ll wake you up—”

A moment later, Summer’s eyes fluttered shut, and she fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Monty shook her, afraid of what this could mean. Had J’nae taken over? Was his daughter lost to the alien presence, possibly forever? He gently slapped her face. Still no response. He checked her pulse and pulled open her eyelids. Everything seemed normal. She was asleep. Monty tried to imagine what hell she was going through in her mind. Without the power of consciousness to hold back the demon, Summer would be vulnerable to…to what?

Monty looked desperately to Tidus. There was sorrow displayed on the normally stoic face of the Juirean. “She may not come back,” Monty said to his alien friend.

“Comfort her. She will need the feel of your hand on hers to remind her of who she is. I will go to the command center and stand watch. Advise me of any developments.”

13

All right, what now?

Summer was aware she was asleep. How that happened so quickly, she could only guess. It wasn’t of her own doing. She sensed J’nae was anxious for a meeting of the minds. Laughing internally at the play on words, she thought: Minds, plural. Ain’t that some shit? Yes, she was now of two minds, and as she had said to Tidus, she was never alone, not anymore. As a fiercely independent person, the revelation did not bring her comfort or security, rather a feeling of loss. Her life was no longer hers; her decisions constantly influenced by someone—or something—else. As long as J’nae remained inside her body, she would never be Summer Rains again.

She firmed her thoughts, determined not to go quietly into the night. She would fight for her identity, for her body and her soul. But how?

You are my enemy. Leave me!

A distant voice came to her mind.

I… am… not… your… enemy.

The words formed in her mind like wisps of smoke. They were there, just not well-defined. Summer knew they were not her own. Was it now possible to speak with the invader? If so, could the thing be reasoned with?

You say you’re not my enemy, yet you control me.

I am… not your enemy.

The words became clearer, more adamant.

Are you J’nae?

I am…part of J’nae. Continue. I am learning.

Learning what, how to talk?

How to form my thoughts. And how to connect them to yours.

Anger erupted within Summer. Let me know when you’re ready to have a serious conversation, you alien bitch. I’m not going to let you have my body, not without a fight. What do you want from me?

Within her mind’s eye, Summer could see a dark void. It wasn’t black, nor was there light. It was…nothing. And the large yellow eye was gone, as well, even though she expected it to show up at any moment to scare the shit out of her.

What do I want? the voice answered. I… I want to live.

Then go live somewhere else. I don’t want you in my body.

I am… learning. How I got here. I… I see now.

Good for you; what do you see?

How I got here.

I know how you got here, Summer thought. What I want to know is how do I get rid of you?

I do not know.

Summer could feel her body trembling. She had heard others speak of J’nae aboard the Colony Ship. Before that, she knew nothing of the alien. Who and what she was had been kept a secret from Humanity and the rest of the galaxy. But what she’d learned recently was that she had once been the queen of the Sol-Kor, a race of flesh-eating animals from another universe. It sounded crazy, the whole inter-dimensional thing. But she knew it to be true. She was just a kid when the terror of the Sol-Kor was coursing through the Milky Way. Her mother and friends lived in fear for the time, thinking Earth was to be the next planet harvested by the aliens.

And then they heard how Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi killed the first five-thousand-year-old queen of the Sol-Kor, bringing the threat to an end. What few people knew, however, was that the mutant Panur had created a second queen—a backup—to take over in case the first died unexpectedly. That second queen was J’nae, the same evil presence that was inside her. It was also her essence—the distilled remains of her… soul—that had made the ancient Aris immortal and turned Kracion into the mad killing machine he became. As insane as all that sounded, Summer was now right in the middle of things. She was now a major player in the story.

Within her mind, she felt as if she curled into the fetal position, surrendering to inevitability. She had a cancer growing inside her, and the prognosis was terminal.

I sense an incredible foreboding, Summer Rains, said the voice inside her mind. I do not understand your reaction.

You don’t understand? What are you, stupid or something? You have infected my body, and you’ve been controlling my actions. Do you also possess my mind, my thoughts?

I do not control your mind. I appear to exist within your body, although your mind and your thoughts are beyond my reach. I communicate with you now because you wish it. This is a new experience for me, to be in another and to be so aware. However, it is I who is the prisoner, not you.

Bullshit. You take over my body whenever you damn well please.

I sense danger, and I am able to assist in the self-preservation of the host, that is all. This may change as I learn more. But for now, I am but a passenger within your body.

And you won’t leave?

I am not sure I can. I can sense every part of your body. I have been integrated throughout. However, I am under your control, not the other way around.

But you took over—twice. I didn’t ask for that.

You did this last time. I heard you, and I steadied your hand and gave you enhanced vision.

And before?

I sensed a request, and your body came willingly. I suspect that with more practice you will be able to hold me back.

Summer wanted desperately to believe the voice in her head, yet J’nae admitted this was new to her. Eventually, the immortal mutant creature would find a way to take over. That was inevitable.

Even if that was true, I don’t want you here. Can you just…go away?

Why would you want that? We can work together for the betterment of the organism—

Because I want my identity back. I want to be me again.

I am beginning to understand. I too, have felt the loss of individual identity, where one is predestined to an eternity without choice.

Bullshit. How can you know?

I do. Allow me to explain. It is the story of my creation. It is common knowledge within certain factions that Panur created me, yet few know how he did it. I will now tell you—

I don’t give a damn how you were created? I obviously can’t uncreate you.

Please, let me explain. It will have meaning. The basic process of my creation was relatively simple. First, Panur built a series of neutral bodies—you would call them blanks—complete with all the necessary biological necessities for life. Although these creatures had form, they were without thoughts, emotions or memories. It was into these creations that Panur infused them with the essence that was to become me. However, it was not just me. It was a combination of all who had come before in his grand experiment, including Panur himself, as well as the Eternal Queen. Once I was introduced into the host body, it became mine to use. You will be interested to learn that it was through this same process that the Queen and her technicians first created Panur, although he has long since taken over the process of his own evolution.

So you’re pissed off because you didn’t get to select your own body? None of us have a choice in that, Summer told the entity.

But it was not only the body I inherited. It was also a destiny. Panur created me for a single purpose: to change how the Sol-Kor race reproduce. He understood the precarious nature of their existence, where a single being was responsible for all the newborns, and how the loss of a queen could kill off the entire race. I was to set a new course for the Sol-Kor. I was to produce generations of females who would then breed more females. Eventually, the Sol-Kor would be independent of the queen, able to sustain their numbers through widespread gender mating. It would be a radical change. Whereas the former queens ruled the race and were revered as gods, I was to be but a temporary accommodation, one which would be discarded once the race reached a point of sustainability without me.

Poor little J’nae. No one wanted to treat you like a god—or goddess, in your case.

That is not my point. I had not aspired to the role I would play, nor did I have a choice of how my life would be spent. I was immortal, yet my role was limited. I was not needed for my wisdom, intelligence or longevity, but merely as a catalyst to something else.

Within her mind, Summer snickered. So it was as if someone took over your body and began to call all the shots. I get it. You and I are so much alike it’s uncanny. She wondered if the sarcasm was conveyed to the alien through her thoughts. She hoped so. But you did something about it, Summer continued. You went on to make your own decisions. And you could do that because you didn’t have a second personality occupying your body.

Yes, I sought another path. When I learned of the Aris and their quest for immortality, I envisioned spreading my essence among these ancient creatures, learning from them, experiencing their eternal quest for knowledge and living an existence of fulfillment, of free will. I volunteered to merge with them.

What does all this have to do with me? Why can’t I get you out of me?

I ask why you would want that? To you, I am like the Aris, more advanced, and with abilities far beyond yours. Together we could become more than the sum of our parts.

At this point, it was obvious J’nae meant to stick around, even if a way could be found to purge her—and short of that—a way to keep her suppressed. But J’nae did have a point. What if Summer needed her again? It might be cool to have a superbeing sitting in reserve, in case she was needed to operate advanced weaponry or to kick some butt. Summer didn’t know how to control the presence at this time, but perhaps she could learn… and before J’nae learned how to suppress Summer….

14

The survey crew had extracted data from the ship’s computers and was feeding it to TeraDon Fief when his assistant came to his office carrying his datapad.

“What have you learned, Calan?”

Calan Drak was a Reegin, a thickly-built, green-skinned alien from the other side of the galaxy. He’d been in the Gradis Cartel for over ten standard years and proven himself capable in a variety of tasks. TeraDon had inherited him as his second a year before when given the assignment to work with the mysterious Te’moc. He was now an integral part of the operation.

“They are in the Blue Sector.”

“Blue? However, they were on the E-4.”

“They turned off and headed north. Their path is obvious, although no new sightings have been reported in two hours.”

“They have vanished?”

“Apparently.”

TeraDon clenched his fists. How many times could these creatures slip through his grasp? His only consolation was that neither the Tribes nor members of the rival criminal cartel—the Cassor Confederation—had found them, yet. There was still the possibility he could redeem both himself and the Cartel in the eyes of the client.

And unlike the others, TeraDon had the starship and its internal database.

Calan sat across the desk from his superior as TeraDon began scanning the information coming in from the field agents. He relayed the information to his second.

“The ship is of Formilian design and registry, currently attached to the United Defense Force. Te’moc failed to inform us of that. Attacking a Defense Force vessel could have consequences if it were known the attack was intentional.”

“And the crew? Te’moc is obsessed with finding them.”

“He will not be pleased. The records show only two Humans and a Juirean aboard.”

“A Juirean…and Humans.” Calan stretched out a thin smile. “That would have been a tense atmosphere.”

“Normally, but times are changing, Calan. Apparently, they were working together, returning from Zinnol to Formil.”

Now Calan frowned. “And no others?”

TeraDon bobbed his head. “No. As I said, Te’moc will not be pleased. He is under the impression there are others aboard. There have never been, according to the official records.”

“And what of the other dead, the four unknowns?”

“They have been identified. All locals.” TeraDon then leaned in close to his screen. “Records show the Juirean—he is called Tidus Fe Nolan—is a former employee of Priority Acquisitions.”

“That must be a mistake.”

“No, it is correct. Apparently, he left the Authority twenty years before and joined them. Recently, however, he has been working with Adam Cain and his Humans, although not as a formal member of his team.”

“Adam Cain! That would mean the mutants could also be involved.”

TeraDon both cursed and praised Adam Cain’s mutant daughter, Lila. He cursed her for destroying the headquarters of the Cartel on the planet Navior, along with their long-time leader, Frandon G’Bur. But he also praised her for opening up positions in the new leadership, one of which TeraDon was destined to occupy soon.

“That is not our concern, Calan. He is not on Sasin, nor are the mutants. But I see that one of the dead unknowns was also a former affiliate of PA. Is that not a coincidence?”

“We damage their ship, and it comes to Sasin. The Juirean calls a prior associate for assistance. That would make sense.”

“And now the fugitives are gone, and the local PA representative is dead.”

TeraDon had a thought. He tapped the keys on his computer and pulled up the local address for the dead PA representative.

“Provide a map of the sightings,” he commanded of Calan, who turned the datapad so TeraDon could see. “It lines up. They have gone to Anoc Firostum’s residence. That is where they are hiding.”

Calan nodded. “Excellent deduction, TeraDon.”

“Provide me with a detailed layout of the building. Then prepare an assault team. Make them ready for combat against Humans and Juireans.” TeraDon saw Calan grimace. “Yes, it will not be easy, so spare no cost. We go at first light.”

15

“Awaken, Monty!” The voice only inches from his face shocked him from his slumber. He’d fallen asleep at Summer’s side when he should have been watching her.

“What… what is it?”

“Look.” The Juirean said, pointing to one of the large monitors in the room. “I transferred an image from the command center to here.”

Monty focused on the screen. It showed a front view of the parking area just inside the main gate. There were dozens of aliens scaling the wall, with even more already inside the perimeter.

“You need to wake Summer. We will need her help.”

Monty looked down at his sleeping daughter. He’d tried to wake her before, but she was too far under the influence of the alien J’nae to come out of her coma. A glance at his watch showed he’d slept for an hour. He tried her again. This time she was awake a moment later, looking groggy and even more tired than before.

“Get up, Sum, we have company.”

Summer was off the couch a moment later. “How did they find us?”

“Undoubtedly because of the missing guards,” Tidus said. “The catwalk was within plain view of the surrounding towers. Their absence had to be noted.”

The trio watched the screen for a moment, surprised at the number of creatures amassed outside. Summer noticed that half of them wore semi-clean uniforms.

“Who are they?”

Tidus moved closer to the screen to see the insignia on the shirts.

“They are members of the Cassor Confederation, a rival cartel to the Gradis on Sasin. Since Lila’s attack on the Gradis, the Confed has been attempting to gain more ground for themselves. Again, recruitment is a fertile business on Sasin.”

“Why are they working with the Tribes? Those are Blues, aren’t they? It’s hard to tell in the light.”

“Yes, they are. Perhaps they have partnered since prior attempts to secure us have failed. Half of a bounty is better than no bounty at all. I have brought up more weapons from the armory, along with several small explosives.”

“Can we seriously hold them off?” Summer asked. “There’s a whole planet after us. And now that they know where we are….”

“We have no choice. Perhaps Adam’s spaceship can provide us with cover. In that event, there will be much collateral damage to the surrounding neighborhood, but that cannot be avoided.”

“Screw the neighborhood,” Monty growled. “I say level the whole goddamn city.”

“What about the security door below? That could be a way out.”

“I have attempted to open it with Anoc’s ID card. It did not work. But as a last resort, we may attempt to use explosives on it. But for now, we must prepare our defense.” Then the tall Juirean stared hard at Summer. “And we could use your inner demon if that is possible. Her demonstrated skills could be valuable.”

Summer pursed her lips. Of course, they would, she thought. Forget about me. It’s all about J’nae now. “I will see what I can do.”

Tidus turned to Monty. “Take a supply of the Xan-fi’s up to the next level where you will have a better view of the front entrance. Summer and I will station ourselves at the forward barrier.” He handed Summer a small satchel. “This contains personnel grenades I found in the armory. We will use them to keep the invaders at bay. Then, if we have to fall back, we will destroy the barriers in front of us so they cannot be used for shelter by our enemies. Please hurry.” He pointed to the monitor. There was a huge crowd of aliens outside the main door, preparing their explosives. “The breach will come soon.”

Regarding J’nae, Summer didn’t have to ask. A moment later her vision was once again shoved to the rear as J’nae took over. Her body now moved with purpose, placing her compound bow and quiver on her back—not to be used in the coming battle, but so she wouldn’t leave it behind should they have to evacuate the building. She also took three Xan-fi flash rifles and a pair of MKs, along with all the surplus power packs she could carry.

She met up with Tidus at the first barrier beyond the entrance. There was a mini-maze of four-foot-high walls extending about twenty feet into the great room, made up of three layers. They were staggered which would allow the pair to fall back to new positions without revealing themselves.

They had barely gotten in position when a tremendous explosion sent a shockwave of debris, fire and sound rumbling into the room. Tidus and Summer hunkered behind the barrier, protected from most of the effects. Monty was far enough away that he wasn’t affected.

Then came a rush of aliens, all firing indiscriminately through the cloud. Tidus and Summer lobbed several of the small grenades into the mass, while Monty unloaded twenty plasma bolts into the lingering cloud of smoke, draining his first battery pack. He didn’t bother snapping in another. He had so many surplus weapons at his feet that he simply grabbed another and continued firing.

The new explosions put a temporary stop to the invasion. Then through the din of the flash bolts and rumbling throughout the building, Summer heard someone call out, “Four times!”

Even the mutant genius within her had trouble comprehending the message until Tidus explained.

“Those in charge have boosted the pay for the assault by four times as an incentive to the hesitant.”

He barely had the words out when another wave of aliens surged into the room. Even J’nae’s quicker reactions and deadly aim took out only a limited number. Tidus wasn’t nearly the shot she was, but he still hit a few himself; there were so many it was hard to miss.

“Save some of the grenades!” he called out. “Retreat!”

Summer/J’nae obeyed. They moved back to the last barrier, bypassing the second one. They tossed a pair of explosives to the base of the first partition. The concussion was so close that the heat sucked the air from Summer’s lungs. In a moment of irony, she thought this would be a good time to be immortal.

With the first two barriers gone, the swarm of aliens had little cover. But there was so many of them, and the bonus steeled their resolve. They kept coming even as the body count soared.

Summer detected a secondary explosion above them and to her left. She looked back to see Monty fall on his back, firing his weapon between his legs and up the stairs behind him. There was a second breach.

“Down!” she called out. “Everyone down!”

Monty rolled on his side and took off like a sprinter, abandoning the cache of weapons around him. He still had the MKs. Tidus unwound his tall body and began to bounce toward the wide stairway leading to the lower levels. Summer was at his side a moment later, taking him under the arm and literally dragging him along. She felt a surge of strength, either the result of adrenaline or with a little help from J’nae. Either way, on his own, Tidus was too slow to make it to safety without her help.

The trio bounded down the stairs until they came to a point where Tidus forced them to stop. He swiped Anoc’s ID card, and a heavy security door slid across the opening, locking them inside. Summer hadn’t noticed the door before, but Tidus had during the time he stood watch in the control room. It would buy them time until they figured a way to get the other security door open, which hopefully would lead to an underground escape route.

Tidus scrambled to the command console, surveying the monitors. Most showed scenes of smoke, chaos… and aliens. Lots of aliens. They were still firing at every shadow and around every corner. There seemed to be no effort to capture the fugitives. They would settle for the ten million credits for bringing them in dead, rather than alive.

Summer had one flash rifle with half a charge. Tidus and Monty only had their MKs. And unfortunately, the armory was on the other side of the first security door.

“Summer, take the ID card. See if you will have more luck with the locking mechanism.”

Summer knew what he meant: Let J’nae try. She’s a lot smarter than you. She’s also smarter than you, dickhead, she thought.

Thank you, Summer.

I was wondering when you’d drop in to say hi?”

Words were not necessary until now.

The card was swiped again, and like before, no response.

“Why isn’t it working?” she asked aloud. “The card has worked on everything else in the building.”

I will seek to bypass the circuit.

With a surge of uncommon strength, Summer ripped off the metal casing to the security box. Inside was a maze of fiber-optic lines and small plastic chips. From Summer’s point of view, it was all Greek. But J’nae suddenly had her fingers inside, manipulating wires.

“Something is happening outside,” Tidus called out from the command console.

“Are they firing on the others?” Monty asked.

“It would appear so.”

“What’s happening?” Summer asked.

“Someone is firing on the attackers outside.”

“Adam?”

“No. It is coming from small hovercopters, a number of them, firing from elevated positions. One has landed on the roof, and troops are moving inside the building, working their way lower.”

“Who—”

“They are Gradis,” Tidus answered before she could finish the question.

“The Gradis are firing on the others? Why?”

“They are not about to lose their reward, it would seem.”

It was a strange sensation. Summer was carrying on a conversation with Tidus as her fingers worked inside the control box without her knowledge or control. But they knew what they were doing, obviously. The door began to slide open.

“You know it just may lead to a sewage plant and not a way out,” Monty stated sourly.

“It’s better than staying here,” Summer barked. “Hurry!”

“Can you close the door?” Monty asked once they were on the other side.

“Not now,” said J’nae in Summer’s exasperated voice. “The circuits are damaged.”

They began to run. The corridor was narrow, with a damp, musty smell and lit by a series of dim yellow bulbs set in the walls. The floor angled down at a fairly decent slope, which told them it was directed toward the bottom of the hill and away from Anoc’s house. That was encouraging. And with the Gradis troops occupying the attention of the other attackers, they might have time to make it to the other end before the security door to the command center was blown open.

There was a steady stream of smelly water running along the sides of the floor, and the humidity made the surface slippery. Tidus fell several times and had to be rescued by Summer’s superior strength and balance. It was obvious to her that no one had been down here for a long time, possibly not since the tunnel was carved through the bedrock. It was a good three minutes of slipping and sliding before they came to an end and another security door, this one smaller. There was a keypad lock on the panel without a slot or screen for scanning the ID card.

J’nae didn’t give them time to contemplate the code. Instead, off came the cover and again the strange presence in Summer’s mind took over, working within the box. A latch clicked. Summer took the handle and pushed. The door opened outward.

Beyond was another room with an innocuous-looking door on the other side with a bright band of morning light filtering in along the threshold. Tidus and Monty ran for the door. Summer froze in her steps. It was jarring; not being in control of her body. But J’nae sensed something….

Suddenly the room filled with smoke. Tidus and Monty dropped to their knees, their bodies trembling as eyes remained open and aware with panic. Summer’s body jerked forward for a couple of steps until even J’nae’s influence couldn’t keep her standing. She sensed the frustration in her mind. The powerful creature inside her was still susceptible to what happens to the host. She fell to the wet concrete floor, rolled over and looked up at the moldy ceiling.

Several figures hovered over her, each wearing full-face masks. There were no two species alike, telling her that they were from the Cartel. One person, in particular, leaned down closer. His face was wide, his eyes intense. He was more Prime than most, having many Human qualities. But he wasn’t Human; he was a fucking alien.

“At last,” the creature said through the mask. He looked over at another figure next to him. “My compliments, Calan. The paralyzing gas appears to be effective on Humans and Juireans.” He then looked again into Summer’s unblinking eyes. “My name is TeraDon Fief. Remember that name. Remind my client that it was I who secured you, and alive at that. He is quite anxious for a meeting; however, from your size and composure, I believe he will find you quite the disappointment.”

He stood up. “Bind them securely and then load them aboard a lift. Have the others remain on site a while longer to provide us with cover. Once our captives are back at the Sector, we will let the planet know it was the Gradis that performed on the contract. It will help with recruitment.”

16

Maybe their standard comms are down, too, Adam Cain thought after his fifth attempt to contact the team on Sasin. Tidus said the CW array was ripped off the ship. Perhaps the standard antenna was as well. Adam was well within the system by now and should have been able to reach them if the system was working. He’d made good time and was about an hour ahead of schedule. He didn’t think any more about the comm loss. In the scheme of things, it didn’t matter. He would be on the planet in sixteen minutes; he’d find out then.

Already the transponder signal was locked into the nav computer. A quick drop to the surface and he’d be off again minutes later, with his three friends safe and sound. That was good. From what he’d learned of Sasin, the less time he spent on the planet, the better. Besides, he had a gang of evil immortal beings to track down, and already his juices were flowing in anticipation of the coming hunt. He leaned back in the command chair, frowning.

What the hell’s wrong with me? he thought. We just got rid of Kracion, and before that, a whole succession of other galactic nasties. I shouldn’t be so anxious to jump right back into the fire.

Had he become addicted to the action, to the danger? God, he hoped not. Adam admitted he was lucky beyond belief, but how much longer that would last was anyone’s guess. Maybe this one last mission—to find out what happened to Kracion and the other Aris—and then he’d call it quits. Retire back on Earth in a cozy cabin in the mountains with a dog—a black lab. He liked black labs. Yes, that would be nice.

He smirked. But hopefully this time, the cabin won’t get shot to shit by commandoes and crazed Klin. I’d really like more than a few months before someone—or something—tries to kill me.

As he reached the planet, he tried to get clearance to land in the city of Yanish-kas. That’s when his frustration began to grow. Apparently, there was no living creatures manning the traffic center. The place was a mess, both in orbit and on the surface. He gave up after a few minutes of fruitless negotiating with a basic AI and made a beeline for the location of the transponder signal without receiving permission to land or filing a flight plan.

The Arya—as his ship was called—was one of the most-advanced starships in the galaxy, one of only three trans-dimensional vessels in existence—at least in this universe. Besides her sister ship—the Sansa—Panur and Lila still had their tiny egg-shaped dimension-hopper. It worked for them, if not for anyone else. It didn’t have a food processor, sleeping quarters or atmosphere control. The mutants didn’t need any of that to survive. Still, Panur packed the small craft into the hold of the Sansa, just in case it was needed. By now, the rest of the team was on their way to the Kidis Frontier and the home star of the Aris Technician’s planetary base. It was into that star that Panur and Lila intended to dispose of Kracion. Adam shrugged. For all he knew, they may have succeeded; it was still a slim possibility. However, there were too many inconsistencies to take the chance. If the other Aris had saved Kracion, Adam and his friends had to know. The people of the galaxy deserved fair warning that a deadly do-over might be headed their way.

After dodging a plethora of debris during the transition from space to the atmosphere, Adam came in on final approach, gliding in toward a huge expanse of open ground in the middle of the most disgusting urban sprawl he’d ever seen. It wasn’t normal for spaceports to be located in the center of cities, but it seemed as though normal didn’t apply to Sasin. In fact, an errant landing—followed by a massive conflagration—might do the city some good.

The transponder signal was strong, and Adam piloted his sleek and sexy starship to a landing about a hundred meters from the source. He looked out the viewport and saw the Forty—or what was left of her—sitting out among the other trash filling the spaceport. Tidus said the ship had been damaged by raiders, but damn, how did the thing even manage a landing? It sat atop a mangled mash of metal, listing to starboard, and with one of its chemical engines lying several meters away on the black soil. It was a miracle any of them survived the landing to make the call to the Behemoth.

There were a few vehicles stationed outside the entrance to the Forty, along with a small hovercopter. Adam had no idea who they belonged to, but it was obvious something was going on at the ship and considering the local environment, that did not bode well.

Adam strapped an MK-84 to his waist. The ‘84 was the latest state-of-the-art handgun from Maris-Kliss—a prototype, in fact—and was one of the benefits that came from having just saved the galaxy from the Mad Aris. It was the same for the Arya and the Sansa, the products of an unlimited budget which helped to satisfy the creative talents of the mutants. It seemed Adam and his team could write their own tickets anywhere in the galaxy. They were the flavor of the month. At least for now. This wasn’t the first time Adam had saved the galaxy, so he knew fame and adulation were fleeting, especially in a place as fickle as the Milky Friggin’ Way. But he would enjoy it while he could.

The Arya came equipped with a reactive hull designed to deliver a sizable shock to anyone messing around with her. Seeing what was taking place in the spaceport, the feature would come in handy. He activated the safeties and then left the ship to find out who was poking around the Forty.

He stepped out into the early morning light of Sasin, noticing the Juirean-standard gravity of the planet. He let out a deep breath and wrinkled his nose. Damn, this place stinks!

He walked to the Forty and climbed to the side entrance using a mangled mass of crumpled metal for steps. He took a closer look at the steps and frowned. The frame wasn’t from the Forty but another vessel, which begged for an explanation….

Adam stepped through the open hatch.

Sounds came from the direction of the cockpit. There he found the asses of four aliens sticking out from under various consoles, each in the process of dismantling the components. Adam realized then why he couldn’t contact the ship; the comm module was already missing.

“What the hell are you doing?” Adam demanded, catching the aliens off guard. Heads banged against metal as the creatures struggled to extricate themselves from the units.

“This is a United Defense Force ship. You have no right to be here. Where’s the crew?”

Each of the beings was taller than Adam—as were most aliens—but they recognized him as a Human. Their eyes shifted nervously to a spot over his shoulder. Adam spun before letting out a gasp.

A leather-vested Rigorian stood a few feet behind him.

Adam cringed, experiencing the same sense of foreboding he always felt around the lizard-like creatures, with their foot-long snouts, protruding teeth and beady yellow eyes. To date, Adam hadn’t encountered any spider-like beings, but he was sure he would feel the same about one of them as he did the Rigorian. He hated spiders, as well as walking, talking alligators.

“We now have authority over this vessel,” the lizard stated. Rigorian mouths weren’t made for proper speech articulation, but the Formilian translation bug Adam had implanted behind his right ear did a decent job of deciphering the gurgles and growls.

“Like hell you do. Where is the crew?”

“That is none of your concern. Move on, Human, before we take action against you.”

Adam snickered. Really? He looked back at the other four creatures, none of which were nearly as intimidating as the Rigorian. They looked nervous.

Adam turned back to the green lizard. “I’m Adam Cain, and this vessel is assigned to my team and me. Now, where are the others?”

Adam felt a wicked sense of satisfaction when the Rigorian recognized his name. Although the Fringe-born beasts were known as accomplished fighters, they had trouble going head-to-head with a Human. But this one had been counting on the other four aliens in the room to shift the odds. That was until he found he was facing the famous superhuman Adam Cain. Even then, you can’t fix stupid….

“Take him!” the Rigorian yelled.

Adam whipped around to the others. They stared back at him… until one took a step. In hindsight, the movement was probably more toward the door than at Adam, but by then it didn’t matter. He’d already reacted. After that, it became a matter of self-defense for the aliens.

Skulls cracked and bones broke, and in the end, the four creatures lay dead on the deck of the pilothouse. The fight only lasted ten seconds, but by then the Rigorian had turned tail—literally—and was heading for the exit hatch. Adam sprinted after him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back. The large, alligator-like being turned and snapped at his arm with a mouth lined with two-inch-long teeth. Adam recoiled just in time, and then out of anger, slapped the long snout of the beast, causing the Rigorian to yelp in pain.

“Stop it! Stop!” Adam yelled as he would to a disobedient dog.

The beast crouched, presenting Adam with the back of his neck, a sign of submission. This is a first, he thought. I think I like it.

Rigorians were primarily packed animals. That’s why this one felt bravest with the other aliens backing him up. But alone, he was more docile and subservient. It saved his life.

“Get up. Go into the other room. Go.”

The seven-foot-tall lizard obeyed. Adam forced him down on the couch of the common room.

“What the hell were you thinking? That was stupid. No one needed to get hurt. Now, where’s the crew? You better start talking—”

“The Cartel has them.”

“The Cartel? As in the Gradis Cartel?”

“Yes, we are very strong on Sasin.”

“Why does the Cartel have them?”

“They have been hunted, and for some time as I understand. They escaped into the city initially, but only an hour ago they were apprehended. I was sent here to salvage the ship; that is all.”

“Are they okay?”

“The crew?”

“Yes, the crew, you idiot.”

“Reports have not indicated otherwise.”

“Where were they taken?”

“To the Sector.”

Adam slapped the long snout again. “I don’t know anything about Sasin! What is the Sector?”

“The Gradis Sector.”

Adam lifted his hand again.

“It is west of here, on the outskirts of Yanish-kas,” the Rigorian blurted.

“How many Gradis are there?”

The yellow eyes of the lizard blinked. “I do not know.”

“Hundreds or thousands?”

“Hundreds, I would guess. There are also recruits who have not yet been initiated.”

“How far is it…to the Sector?”

“Far, and through the city.”

Adam had seen the city from the air. He wasn’t looking forward to making a trek through its dangerous slums.

“Is that your hovercopter outside?”

“Yes. I am of senior rank. I rate air transport.”

Adam took the creature by the shirt and pulled him from the couch. “You’re going to fly me to your base. And let me warn you, I know how to fly one of those things, so if you give me any trouble, I’ll kick you out the door.”

Honestly, Adam didn’t know how to fly a hovercopter, but the Rigorian didn’t know that.

Two minutes later, Adam and the alien were airborne in the tiny three-seater.

17

The Gradis Cartel Sector was a designated area west of Yanish-kas sitting between two sets of low-lying hills. Sixteen buildings made up the main complex, surrounded by a sizable buffer zone of open land with its own small landing field and repair facilities. It was much smaller than any of the ‘color sectors’ but larger than that of their competing criminal organization, the Cassor Confederation.

Within the wide buffer zone were several tents where recruits were housed during the evaluation process. Volunteers for the Cartel were not hard to find on Sasin; however, the Cartel still needed to weed through them to find the best candidates. Even criminal organizations had their standards. Members had to pledge complete loyalty to the Cartel. They were being inducted into a galaxy-wide army, and honest devotion was required, and not simply a desire to leave Sasin. Only about ten percent of volunteers made the cut.

The Cartel maintained a fairly decent-sized detention center in the Sector, a necessity because of the dregs of society passing through their system. Illegal activities—at least illegal according to the Gradis—were not tolerated within the criminal organization.

Summer, Tidus and Monty were still groggy from the gas when they arrived at the Sector. They were herded out of a larger hovercopter and into one of the ugly buildings near the center of the complex. Summer strained to keep an eye on the Cartel member carrying her bow and quiver. She was suffering from separation anxiety; she couldn’t remember the last time the weapon was out of her possession. It was so much a part of her that she considered it her baby.

Fortunately, the guard with the bow came with them into the building and up to the third-floor detention center. She watched as he placed the weapon behind a receiving counter in the outer sentry station to the cell block, as well as a small bag with their MKs. Yes, she was a prisoner of the Cartel; however, she didn’t feel defeated. Between knowing that J’nae was inside her and that Adam Cain was on his way, she felt her captivity was only a temporary situation, and soon she would be reunited with her precious child.

They passed through a set of double doors and into a wide room with barred cells lining both sides. A few were occupied by dejected looking inmates who eyed the newcomers with vacant curiosity. These were creatures who had been rejected for membership in the Cartel and then committed some crime against the organization. Their futures looked bleak. The arrival of the new guests to the cellblock was nothing more than a mild distraction.

Summer and Tidus were placed in separate cells on one side of the room, while Monty was placed on the other side. Summer wondered if that was intentional; to keep the two Humans apart from one another? It didn’t matter. The guards left the room, leaving them alone with just the other guests of The Hotel Gradis.

Tidus and Monty didn’t share Summer’s confidence in the temporary nature of their captivity. They were dejected. Monty sat on the thin cot in his cell, pulling up his shirt to inspect his oozing wound.

“How is it?” Summer asked from her cell.

“It’s fine; as well as can be expected. At least nothing has cracked open too wide.”

“Hang in there, dad, everything will—”

She was interrupted when the double doors opened, and a small entourage of aliens entered, led by TeraDon Fief. He stepped directly to Summer’s cell. A strange irony struck her; that with all the wild fighting taking place back at Anoc’s house, it was a strange—yet fortunate—set of circumstances that made the Gradis their saviors, their means of getting out of the fray.

J’nae’s presence had receded somewhat, to a point Summer felt the two personalities were on equal footing, like having a confidant she could talk to without others overhearing. The alien inside her now watched and analyzed the situation; Summer sensed she would be ready if needed. Summer was upset that she found the thought reassuring. She didn’t want to become dependent on the phantom presence as a way out of every mess she got herself into. She wanted to do some of the hero stuff herself.

Summer took a moment to scan the handsome form of her alien captor. She scoffed at her reaction. She’d already gone googles over the Formilians back at the Colony Ship, but then Sherri Valentine explained that was par for the course since their powerful sexual pheromones had the same effect on a lot of races. Sherri then went on to explain how the ancient Aris engineered the Formilians that way; all part of their plan to create the Apex Being. But TeraDon was not Formilian. He was, however, ruggedly built, tall and broad-shouldered, with piercing blue, almond-shaped eyes. She conceded; he was handsome, in an alien sort of way.

But he was also her enemy, and from the sensations she got from J’nae, Summer knew the alien presence considered him one as well. From her brief experience with J’nae, that did not bode well for TeraDon’s prospects among the living….

“So what now?” she asked the alien.

“Unfortunately, your stay with us will be brief,” TeraDon stated. “The Cartel has been hired by a powerful client to secure you and the others. He will be here soon to take possession. What happens after that, I cannot say.”

“You know you’re making a mistake,” said Summer’s voice. She realized instantly it was J’nae speaking through her. “We are not the ones you seek.”

TeraDon nodded. “The client is aware that something is amiss. That is why he is anxious to meet you in particular. He was expecting something different, and now he must know the reason for the discrepancy.”

“You should be warned that we have powerful friends.”

“As does the client. It will be interesting to see which party prevails.”

“That was cryptic. Who is your client?”

TeraDon grinned. “I will leave that a mystery for now, simply because you are curious. Patience. Soon all will be revealed.”

He smiled at his other captives, appearing pleased with himself. Then he left, a spring in his step.

Monty came to the front of his cell. “Can your little friend get us out of this?” he whispered across the space between him and Summer.

“She’s biding her time, waiting for an opportunity.”

“That doesn’t sound too encouraging.”

Summer shrugged. There wasn’t much she could do unless J’nae could bend iron bars or hack locking mechanisms with her mind.

“You heard that some bigwig is on his way,” Monty said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

She could see the wheels turning in Monty’s head, wondering who would get to Sasin first: Adam Cain or the mysterious client? Adam should be arriving at any time, for what good it would do. They weren’t at the Forty, and they had no way to contact him. Add to that, they were prisoners of the Cartel, a fact Adam would have no way of knowing. It was obvious to her—and hopefully J’nae, as well—that it was up to them to determine their fate and not the great Adam Cain.

* * *

During the fifteen-minute hovercopter flight, the great Adam Cain had time to consider his options once he got to the Sector. Thanks to a more-talkative Rigorian, he knew where the team was held, although he had no idea what resistance he would encounter. For all his imposing presence, the lizard-creature was a technician and not a soldier for the Cartel. He’d never been to the detention center, so he was no help with the layout or security protocols.

Adam came armed with a single MK-84 plus a basic ’17 he’d taken from the Rigorian. It was hardly the firepower he would need to break in and out of a heavily-guarded fortress. However, he did have his artificial telepathy device, which none of the Cartel knew anything about. That would help him against many of the weapons and security locks he would find along the way. It would also help should he get caught.

But no matter which scenario he worked out in his mind, it would still be an uphill battle within unfamiliar territory. He would be flying blind. And he always risked getting shot and/or killed.

After a moment, he sighed, resigned to the only option opened to him. He leaned forward to speak over the shoulder of his Rigorian pilot.

“How would you like to be the hero of the day?”

“I do not understand?”

“You know I’m pretty well-known throughout the galaxy, and especially within the Cartel. We have a history together. So, how would you like to be the one who captures the infamous Adam Cain? How would that look on your resume?”

“Resume?”

“On your record with the Cartel. And before you answer, think for a minute how you have four dead colleagues back at the ship, and now you’re flying one of the Cartel’s mortal enemies into their secure base. You can either come out of this a hero or looking like an incompetent traitor. The choice is yours.”

“I am confused. Are you surrendering to me?”

“That’s the plan. But for this to work, you can’t let your bosses know it was my idea. If you did, you’d look like an accomplice rather than the courageous Cartel member who captured the deadly Adam Cain.”

“Why would you do this? I am currently your prisoner. Besides, I will not be held responsible for what happened at the spaceport. You attacked us.”

“But they will hold you responsible, when I tell them how you ran away at the first sign of trouble, leaving the others to die.” Adam pointed ahead. “That’s your base, isn’t it? You better hurry; I’m going to need an answer.”

“Of course, I would prefer to be a hero.”

“Excellent! I was hoping you would say that.” Adam removed his MK-84 and the ’17 and handed them up to the Rigorian. “Before you get any smart ideas, I’ve disabled these weapons, but no one else will know except you and me. Just march me up to your superiors; that’s all you have to do. Now, who is your boss, the person in charge?”

“Saz Daen leads the Sector, yet the senior official running the operation that captured your associates is Second-Level Kali TeraDon Fief.”

“Be sure to let him know who I am and why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?”

Adam shook his head. “Really; you have to ask? I’m here to rescue my friends. Dammit, can you be any dumber?”

The Rigorian bristled. “My name is not Dammit. It is Aligart. And I am not dumb. I merely sought clarification.”

“Yeah, whatever, just get ready. Oh, and buddy, enjoy the fame while you can. It won’t last. Believe me; I know.”

18

The former Gradis Cartel headquarters building on Navior, which Adam’s daughter Lila destroyed, had been made of a series of huge sprayed-foam polyurethane balls strapped together by cables, creating a bubble-looking pyramid. The buildings on Sasin were also constructed from sprayed foam, making it possible for the Cartel to construct their tiny city on Sasin in record time and without the need of outside material or labor. These structures weren’t made in the shape of balls, but instead what looked like sheets of rough plastic spread across the ground before being tilted into position. They now formed a complex series of boxes and lean-tos, with no style or overall plan, just something to protect the occupants from the weather. Adam found it to be one of the ugliest designs he’d seen in the galaxy, but congruent with other parts of Yanish-kas.

“Where’s the detention center?” he asked Aligart, his reluctant accomplice.

“Third structure on the left from the center.”

“Land as close as you can to the building.”

“That is against protocol. It will prompt an alert.”

“That’s fine. You’ll be forgiven once they see who you brought. Just say for security reasons you felt it best to get me as close to the prison as possible.”

Aligart nodded his huge head. “In that case, we shall need a quick approach, lest we will be challenged in the air.”

“I’m sure you have the necessary piloting skills. Okay, get ready. Here we go.”

The tiny propeller-driven hovercopter shot over the small barrier that was the boundary of the Cartel Sector and raced for the cluster of buildings about three kilometers away. The comm unit in the craft came to life instantly.

After listening to the protest, the Rigorian opened the link. “This is Junior-Stansi Aligart, returning from the merchant spaceport with a high-priority prisoner. Requesting a security detail be waiting at the east entrance to Building Nine.”

The voice on the speaker wasn’t satisfied with the answer and continued to protest the copter’s approach. Sasin—and Yanish-kas in particular—was a dangerous place, even for the Cartel. Desperate people were dangerous, especially if they’d just been rejected by the Cartel and left with no other prospects other than a lifetime of misery on Sasin. At that point, suicidal revenge seemed a fitting solution. Therefore, any craft approaching the complex without authorization was considered a threat.

However, at the speed of the hovercopter, Aligart reached the complex before he could be stopped. In a cloud of whirling dust, he brought the craft in for a jarring landing in a field of blackish-brown dirt about fifty meters from the entrance to Building Nine. Swarms of armed aliens came running from all directions.

Aligart stepped out of the round cockpit and raised his arms, a weapon in each hand. He wore the uniform and insignia of the Cartel, but that proved nothing. Uniforms could be forged. The fifteen soldiers guarding the hovercopter held their weapons steady, focusing their attention on Aligart and not the figure in the backseat. Adam slipped out through the open door, his arms also held to his side, showing nothing was in his hands.

The troops moved forward.

“What is the meaning, Aligart?” one of the aliens growled, recognizing the Rigorian. Adam found association with the Cartel to be unnerving since the organization was made up of hundreds—if not thousands—of different races. There were no dominant species to identify as the leaders. It was the same in this conglomeration of ugly and exotic fantasy creatures.

“Inform First-Stansi Jaoni that I have apprehended the Human Adam Cain.”

Aligart’s friend—a block-headed beast with a wicked set of horns protruding from the sides of his skull and wrapping halfway around his face—shot his attention to Adam. Although his name was recognized, his face wasn’t.

“This is Adam Cain? How… how did you capture him?”

“He came to the ship on which I was working, and there I subdued him. Unfortunately, my team was killed in the process.”

“Yet you survived! My admiration.”

Another alien stepped up to them. His weapon remained in its holster, identifying him as a supervisor, not a soldier.

“First-Stansi,” Aligart greeted. “I present you with the Human renegade Adam Cain. He has come to Sasin in an attempt to rescue the prisoners recently brought to the Sector. Second-Level Kali TeraDon Fief should be notified.”

The skinny, anemic-looking creature stepped closer to Adam, brown eyes scanning him up and down. “And yet he was captured before carry out his mission. You have done well, Aligart. The Gradis recognizes your singular feat.”

The boss alien produced a communicator and spoke for a few moments. He appeared satisfied with the conversation.

“Secure the prisoner and take him to the detention center. TeraDon will arrive momentarily. Guards give special attention to this one. He is rumored to be quite dangerous.” Jaoni turned to Aligart. “Accompany me. I wish to hear more details. If this is indeed Adam Cain, your feat will be rewarded.”

Aligart gave Adam a furtive, nervous look as he walked off. Adam smirked. If everything went according to plan, the lizard-creature’s fame would be short-lived. He would be blamed for bringing the fox into the henhouse, or the alien equivalent of the proverb. After that, who knew?

* * *

No fewer than six mean-looking guards watched Adam as he was marched into the building. He offered no resistance. Instead, he took in all the features of the oddly-shaped structure. He would need to know the way back out.

While still in the entry lobby, Adam was approached by a tall, broad-shouldered alien in a tailored leather uniform with a security vest attached.

“Are you sincerely Adam Cain?” This would be the one they called TeraDon Fief, Adam reasoned, and he didn’t wait for an answer before holding a datapad to Adam’s face. “Yes, the identification is positive.” He smiled. “You have come to save your friends; you obviously have failed. In light of the past troubles you have caused the Cartel, my superiors will be quite pleased to learn you have been apprehended.”

“I’m sure they will,” Adam said. “How are the others? Have they been hurt? Now that you have me, you have no reason to hold them.”

The square-jawed alien frowned. “I am confused.”

“They’re just minor characters, nothing to you. You’re obviously after a bigger target.”

“And you believe that target to be you?” The grin on the alien’s face made Adam nervous.

“Well, yeah. You mean I’m not?”

“I had no reason to believe you were within a thousand light-years of Sasin when my quest began. I regret to sour your self-importance, but you have never been a consideration in my operation.”

“I haven’t? So why the others? They’re nobody.”

“That is the concern of my client, not yours. He has his reason for seeking your associates. And as far as I can recall, he has never mentioned your name. He may not even know of your existence.”

Now it was Adam’s turn to be confused. “How could he not know who I am? I’m Adam Cain. What rock has he been living under for the past twenty years that he’s never heard of me?”

The alien continued to smile. “I do not fully understand the references you make, but I can see you are insulted. That is good. You now know the galaxy does not revolve solely around you. There are still creatures who have had the good fortune to have never heard your name.”

Adam was speechless.

“Do not concern yourself, Adam Cain. The client will soon be here, and out of respect, I will inform him of your capture. He may include you in the contract simply through your association with the others. However, in the year I have worked with him, I fail to see how you could be of any value to him. To the Cartel, however, you will be most-welcome. Guards, take the prisoner to the holding cells. Place him with the others.”

TeraDon pulled out a communicator. “Locate Lord Te’moc,” he said as he turned away. “I have a report to make.”

Te’moc? Did he say Te’moc? Adam thought as he was led away.

This was strange. The name was not only familiar, but he could also visualize the creature; modest height, with a proportional Prime build and skin made of tiny scales of an olive hue. Adam could even hear a voice in his head. The memory was vivid, if sparse.

Adam shrugged it off, thinking this Te’moc character was either a Cartel member or some other mobster he’d met somewhere in his travels. Adam didn’t care. He wouldn’t be hanging around long enough for a reunion.

19

The holding cells were on the third floor with a pretty straightforward path back down to the main floor and the exit, assuming they would go out the front when they escaped. Adam couldn’t linger once he found the others, for a couple of reasons. First, the enigmatic Te’moc character was on his way to do Heaven knows what with them. And secondly, the hovercopter outside the building would eventually be moved. If that happened before they made their escape, they would face a trip of a couple of klicks to reach the Cartel spaceport, and undoubtedly with the entire Cartel force after them.

The looks on the faces of Tidus, Monty and Summer were priceless when they saw him. Adam smiled and winked as the guard opened a cell next to Monty and placed him inside. The trio was about to explode with suppressed questions before the guards finally left.

“It is quite a surprise—”

“What the fuck, Adam!” Monty exclaimed, interrupting Tidus and cutting more to the chase. “How did you know where to find us?”

“He didn’t find us,” Summer corrected. “He was brought to us. There’s a difference.”

Adam looked across the corridor to a smirking Summer Rains. “Actually, you guys are the talk of the town. When I got here and found your ship being cannibalized, I asked one of the local talent what happened to you. He was more than willing to talk to me.”

“You’re saying you planned this, to be captured and brought here? I don’t see how that’s helping too much.”

Adam was at the front of the cell, surveying the locking mechanism. As it was with most technological societies—including the Cartel and the planet Sasin—electronic locks were favored over clunky metal keys. As Adam scanned the inner workings of the lockbox with his ATD, he almost snickered at how easy it would be to override the system. It was the same with all the cells. They could get out, that wouldn’t be a problem.

Tidus watched Adam, the truth coming to him only seconds before the others. They knew of his ATD and what it could do. Now Adam’s plan became clear.

“Good work, Captain Cain,” Monty said from his cell. He didn’t elaborate in case they were being monitored.

Adam walked over to the bars between his cell and Tidus’s. “We’ll need a few guards.”

“For their weapons?”

Adam nodded. “We also have to hurry. Someone is coming to get you—us. He could be here any minute.”

“That would be the client TeraDon mentioned.”

Tidus went to the front of the cell and began hammering on the bars with his fist. “I demand an audience! I have complaints. As a Juirean, I have certain rights within Expansion territory.”

It didn’t take long for two guards to make their way into the holding area. As usual, they were each of a different race. Adam sized them up. Each was taller than the Humans, but not Tidus. Monty and Summer had also migrated to the front of their cells, standing next to the doors. Adam reached into each lock with his ATD and deactivated the mechanisms. There was no sound as they unlocked, nor did they slowly squeak open to alert the guards. Even so, the prisoners were free to leave.

Next Adam scanned the firing controls on the MK bolt launchers worn by the guards. They were MK-17s, with four spare battery packs each on their utility belts. The last thing Adam wanted was to shoot his way out of the building. But he also didn’t want anyone else shooting at them.

“Silence, Juirean,” said one of the guards stepping up to the cell. He wasn’t dumb. He stayed out of arm’s reach of the seven-foot-tall alien. “We have been told you have no rights here. And neither do the Humans. For once, your kind are the slaves, rather than—”

Tidus and the others received the go-ahead nod from Adam. Now Tidus calmly pushed the cell door open, much to the chagrin of the mouthy guard. For a moment, he was too shocked to draw his weapon, leaving the other guard to react. He pulled his MK and pointed it at Tidus. The targeting computers still worked in the guns, but not the firing circuits after Adam severed them with his ATD. The weapon vibrated, indicating a target-lock.

“Hold! You are commanded to return to your cell,” said the armed guard. “Brons, alert the floor.”

Brons—the guard initially frozen in fear at the sight of Tidus—was just coming to his senses. He backed away and drew his MK. When the other prisoners nonchalantly stepped from their cells, both guards began to frantically trigger their weapons. One would think that after the first ten trigger pulls—and no release of plasma bolts—the guards would have realized their weapons were dead. But still, they worked the triggers, backing away more until they were laid out cold by an angry Monty Pitts and an amused Adam Cain.

There was no doubt both guards were dead before they hit the floor.

“Are you boys done playing around?” Summer asked. “What say we make like a tree and get out of here?”

Monty and Tidus retrieved the weapons and power packs as Adam reached in with his ATD and reconnected the electronic relays in the devices so they’d fire again. They left the cell block after that, not bothering to hide the bodies.

The team sprinted into the next room, ready to confront any additional guards, but the receiving area was empty. Without warning, Summer bounded to the top of a counter and jumped behind. She disappeared for a moment before coming back up, proudly displaying her shiny red and white compound bow and quiver of arrows.

“Now we can leave.”

As far as Adam could tell the building didn’t have elevators; that would have been too elaborate for to the bare-bones structures the Cartel built on Sasin. But there were three sets of open stairs, one at each end of the hallway and one in the middle. They slid over to the left side and began to make their way down. Adam had his ATD working, detecting the presence of power packs within flash weapons. They were a good marker for the location of the troops. The stairway was clear to the ground floor.

This was where it would get dicey. He detected eight energy weapons active on the floor; three stationary and five mobile. Although he was a little rusty with wholesale operation of his ATD, twenty seconds later he had all the nearby weapons deactivated.

“What now, chief?” Summer asked as she slid up beside him at the base of the stairs. They pressed against the side wall, out of sight.

“We have to get outside. There should be a hovercopter about fifty meters out in front. We’ll use it to get away.”

“Should be?”

“I just left it there about fifteen minutes ago. Hopefully, they haven’t moved it yet—”

“You! Who are you?”

The voice came from the stairs above them. Adam turned, noticing a pair of Cartel members… not wearing weapons. No weapons, no power packs to detect.

Before he could react, Summer was sprinting up the steps. He didn’t know she could move so fast and with such balance. Neither did the two Gradis. She lowered a shoulder into the pair, knocking them forward on the steps. Straddling one of them, she let loose with a blinding flurry of lefts and rights, smashing the face to a pulp. The second alien was trying to get away, crawling on his hands and knees up the steps. He almost made it to the top before Summer landed on his back, took his head in her hands and twisted it halfway around.

She crawled off the body without even breathing hard.

Adam was next to her. He looked down the stairs and saw Monty and Tidus quickly shift their gazes from him and back out into the lobby. They weren’t shocked; they looked embarrassed.

“What the hell was that?” Adam loud-whispered. “You were like a wild animal.”

Wiping the blood from her first victim on her pants, she slipped past him and down the stairs, commenting as she did so how much the Cartel had pissed her off. It felt good to vent.

Adam stood for a moment, staring down at the trio. There was a lot they weren’t telling him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to follow up. Now there were two bodies blocking this set of stairs. That would be discovered sooner than the dead guards in the cellblock.

“We have to move,” Monty said when Adam rejoined the group. He seemed more anxious to face a dozen Cartel soldiers than Adam’s accusatory stare.

“Okay, all the weapons are deactivated, but not their comms or vocal cords. So we casually stroll out like we belong here. With the variety of aliens in the mix, hopefully, no one will notice.”

They got halfway to the door before someone did. A blue-haired, seven-foot-tall Juirean walking with three Humans wasn’t something one expected to see—anywhere. Eventually, someone noticed.

“Stop,” said a security guard, the frown on his partner’s face matching his. “Do you have authorization to be here?”

Tidus took the lead, leaning in over the shorter alien. “Of course we do. Why do you ask?”

Adam lingered at Tidus’s side while Summer and Monty continued toward the door.

“I…eh, it just seemed….”

“Seemed what?” Tidus demanded. “Are you of proper rank to make such determinations as to what seems a certain way or another? Perhaps advance more in status before making assumptions for which you are not qualified to make.”

Tidus strode off, dismissing the two guards with a wave of his hand. Adam rushed after him.

Monty and Summer were already outside the building. The front door was solid, so Adam had no idea whether the hovercopter was still there until he stepped outside. He grimaced, wishing he could have called after father and daughter to tell them to slow down. They were fast-walking in a beeline toward the aircraft. Nah, that’s not obvious at all, Adam thought. But then Tidus joined them. At this point, they were almost running.

Adam glanced behind him, not surprised to see some of the Cartel people take notice. Summer and Monty reached the copter and climbed in, crowding into the back, neither one volunteering to take the pilot seat. Not even Tidus when he joined them.

Adam was at a full sprint now, which, with his enhanced Human strength was definitely out of the ordinary. Now everyone noticed.

He stopped at the open door, gawking at the sight inside. The craft was designed for three people; a pilot in the front and two in the back. Summer and Monty were scrunched down in their seats, with Tidus struggling to force himself between them. It wasn’t working. He half stood, leaning forward over the back of the pilot’s station, while his ass was shoved in the faces of the two Humans.

Adam crowded in, forced to sit with his face pressed against the windshield by Tidus’s upper torso. If that wasn’t bad enough, Adam only had fifteen minutes of watching Aligart pilot the craft. He’d never actually handled the controls to know how they felt. And now he would have to use his right hand to grip the steering controls without being able to see the stick.

With his left hand, he pressed a button he knew would turn on the propellers. Another small joystick on the front dashboard controlled the speed of the rotors. He cranked the level to full, hearing the blades whine as they cut into the wind. He held the control stick in a neutral position, which would hopefully allow the craft to rise straight up off the ground. It worked, but a lot slower than Adam was expecting.

“We’re too heavy!” he heard Summer yell.

“Well, shit. What do you want me to do?”

“Give it more power!”

Adam twisted his head as best he could to look at the throttle joystick. That’s when he noticed a secondary lever he hadn’t seen before. It was a kind of gear shift. He worked it and heard the whine of the props quiet down. Then he pressed the stick again.

This time the craft gained altitude faster, clearing the level of the detention building.

“Stay low,” Monty yelled. “Otherwise, it will be easy to target us.”

“Make up your damn minds!”

He pulled the directional control in his right hand to the left and slightly forward. The hovercopter banked left and sped off toward the boundary of the Cartel Sector. He pulled back a moment later as the craft came precariously close to the ground. Fortunately, this was the buffer zone between the buildings and the boundary, so there was nothing to hit…except the ground. Once they made it to the city, that would be another issue.

They gained a little altitude and more speed. Only Tidus was able to move his head to look behind them for any pursuit. There didn’t seem to be any… not at the moment anyway.

* * *

TeraDon was used to the appearance of Te’moc by now, having spent a standard year with multiple contacts. So was his assistant Calan. But for the other Cartel members who made up the entourage, he took a little getting used to.

He was of standard Prime height and build, yet what set him apart was the series of mechanical attachments to his body, running from his feet to his head. Exo-skeletons were common throughout the galaxy, as species fought against oppressive gravity on hundreds of worlds. But this was different. The prosthetics were surgically attached to his body, even filling gaps between limbs in several places. It was as if he had been sliced into pieces at one time and then reassembled, without all the original parts. However, the level of technology for the skeleton was exceptional, allowing him to move with fluidity and confidence which spoke of a lifetime of practice using the attachments.

TeraDon had often wondered how much of Te’moc was flesh and blood and how much was machine? He couldn’t tell how far the metal extended into his body. Perhaps his skin was just for show, and that underneath he was all machine.

TeraDon never pushed the issue. In fact, he had never had a personal conversation with Te’moc. Everything was business. He knew who he worked for and where he came from, but beyond that, the representative was a mystery.

He and Te’moc led the six other Cartel dignitaries up one of the stairways in Building Nine and to the third floor. Director Saz Daen was in the group, along with First-Stansi Jaoni and another Stansi named Aligart. The Junior Stansi had captured Adam Cain and was included in the group as a reward for his courageous action. For his part, Te’moc didn’t react to the news that Adam Cain was in their custody. It was as TeraDon had suspected; Te’moc had no idea who the Human was, which he admitted was strange, in deference to Cain’s assertion. TeraDon had been hoping to get a bonus from the client because of this, but that did not look to be a possibility.

That just meant Cain belonged to the Cartel. That was just as good.

Saz Daen appeared upset when the entourage entered the detention area, and no one was present at the receiving counter. They proceeded through the double doors into the cellblock.

TeraDon and the other Cartel members pulled their weapons at the sight of the two dead guards lying in full view on the floor. The doors to four cells stood open.

“Sound the security alert!” Daen yelled to First-Stanzi Jaoni. Communicators were out, and orders shouted.

Te’moc walked up to the third cell on the right side, the one the female Human had been in. TeraDon watched as he slowly entered and took a moment standing in the center of the cell.

When he left, he said to TeraDon, “She was here.”

“But how? There was only the Human. I know. I saw her, and only her.”

“There is a way, yet I do not know how it would be possible.”

Saz Daen came up to them. “They have taken a hovercopter back into the city, undoubtedly heading to the spaceport. I have sent troops. They will arrive long before the escapees. We will get them back.”

Te’moc turned his red eyes to TeraDon. “Once again they have escaped.” He silenced the coming protest with a raise of his hand. “However, I am sensing this may not be entirely your fault, and rather an underestimation on my part. Ready your ships. I must assume you will fail in your attempt to recapture. I must be prepared to do this myself.”

20

By the time they reached the city, Adam was a little more confident with the controls. He kept the craft at a fairly level altitude, high enough to clear most of the buildings in their path. Others he had time to avoid. However, their path was pretty obvious, and Adam prayed he wouldn’t have to do any fancy maneuvers against hostile forces on the way to the spaceport.

Surprisingly, they encountered no resistance on the way. Then once over the landing field, he lowered the craft and made for the sleek, slate blue starship that stood out from the rusty hulks in this section of the spaceport.

As they drew closer, he saw a gathering of forces prepared for their arrival. He laughed. They were waiting at the Forty and not the Arya.

Someone is going to catch hell for that, he thought.

Since he’d never landed a hovercopter before, he didn’t feel too bad when he hit the ground hard, and the craft tumbled over on its side, crunching a pair of prop rings and sending dangerous shards of metal skidding across the dirt. He pushed open the cockpit door on the left side, allowing Tidus to crawl out first and slide down the canopy to the ground. Adam stood up, helping Summer out and then Monty, handing them down to Tidus. Then Adam hopped down.

He looked a hundred meters to the Forty. A couple of dozen armed Cartel members stood outside the ship, watching them. It took a moment before they realized what was happening and then they made for their vehicles while others set out on foot.

Monty ran for the Arya.

“No! Wait!” Adam yelled out. By the time he accessed his ATD, it was too late.

Monty touched the hull near the side hatch—and received a shock strong enough to throw him back a couple of meters, after which he fell to the ground unconscious.

Adam ran up to him. “Idiot,” he said to the still slightly twitching master chief. “The dozen or so bodies lying around the ship should have tipped you off that the hull is energized.”

Using his ATD, Adam deactivated the system and opened the hatch. Tidus and Summer had already grabbed Monty under the armpits and dragged him inside.

Adam ran to the bridge and slipped into the pilot seat, his mind already activating systems, readying the ship for liftoff. With the Arya, there was no need to build up a charge, either in the chemical or gravity drives.

“Strap in,” he yelled to Tidus and Summer as they hauled a heavy Monty Pitt into the room with them.

“What about him?” Summer asked.

“No time! The Cartel is already firing at us.”

A horde of soldiers, now only twenty meters from the ship, were consumed by a sudden eruption of pale blue flame shooting out from under the vessel. It wasn’t accompanied by the traditional cloud of grey-white smoke like other chemical jets; Panur’s system burned the propellant much more efficiently. But it did incinerate the closest Cartel hoodlums, and the Xan-fi flash bolts hitting the hull had no effect whatsoever.

Adam pitched the nose up, giving the chem engines full throttle. He heard a thud behind him and looked back to see Monty’s body pressed against the rear bulkhead. In a few seconds, Adam would transition to gravity drive and be able to engage the inertial compensators. Until then, Monty was at the mercy of gravity.

An alarm sounded on his console. He grimaced, looking over the shiny new command panel, wondering what was happening? He’d been on Formil with Arieel when the rest of the team was briefed on the more advanced operation of the starship. He had the basics down, but he didn’t know he would need more than that when he set off for Sasin.

The flash of a cannon bolt off to his right gave him a clue that the alarm had to do with threat detection. Fortunately, the ship was semi-autonomous and had the shields raised in time to absorb the first bolt, as well as the second and third.

Tidus was at the weapons station, although he couldn’t do much more than read the monitors. “Three ships closing fast.”

“Damn the Cartel,” Adam groaned.

“They are not Cartel, but rather the Cassor Confederation.”

“I didn’t know they operated around here,” Adam said.

“They do not, normally. They are on Sasin for the recruits.”

“Why are they shooting at us?”

“They must have been alerted to our escape and still wish to collect the bounty. Could you give me a quick insight into the fire controls? I might be able to return fire.”

“I wish I could, buddy, but I’m as much in the dark as you are.”

Adam switched from chemical drive to gravity, allowing the internals to take over. Suddenly, it was as if they were standing on level ground with normal—Juirean normal—gravity.

Summer unstrapped and went to where Tidus was sitting.

“For Christ’s sake, let me try,” she said to the tall alien.

“Is that you, Summer?” he asked.

“It is for now, but it worked one time, maybe it will work again.”

“What are you talking about?” Adam asked.

“Never mind; just fly the damn ship,” said a voice that sounded like Summer, yet was a lot more assertive. He’d heard that tone before coming from the five-foot-two-inch blonde. He did as he was told.

Summer slipped into the seat and then sat staring at the screens and controls for a moment. Then she leaned forward, punched some keys, and data began to scroll across one of the smaller screens. The information flashed by and then a moment later, she shut down the data feed and began operating the controls.

The ship jerked as intense beams of white-hot energy shot out from hidden turrets. These weren’t cannon bolts, but streams of constant energy. Adam watched his monitors—now slaved to Summer’s station—and gasped when the beam contacted the closest Confed vessel amidships, a direct hit. The power of Panur’s weapon was more than any diffusion shield could absorb. The ship lost power and tumbled toward the surface only forty kilometers below.

Adam watched as it fell, feeling prophetic in his earlier observation how the city of Yanish-kas could use a good crash and subsequent all-consuming fire to clean the place up. That was about to happen.

He shifted his attention back to the battle. It wasn’t much of one. After the beam took out one of the three attackers, the other two lost enthusiasm for the bounty they would never live to receive. Even still, Summer placed a parting gift up the ass end of one of the fleeing ships. It wasn’t enough to completely disable the ship, but it would require them to make an emergency landing as soon as possible.

The Arya was now in space and Adam had her dodging the debris filling the orbit of Sasin.

That’s when the second fleet arrived.

“What’s with these people?” Adam asked. “Don’t they ever learn?”

“These are now Cartel vessels,” Tidus reported. “They will need their own lesson.”

Summer looked back at her still unconscious father. “Tidus, can you check on him while I man the weapons station?”

“Of course, little one—”

Adam noticed the dynamic between the two as Tidus caught himself and Summer frowned.

“What’s up with all of you?” he asked as he guided the Arya away from the incoming Cartel ships. “You guys are acting really weird. Oh, and not to mention Summer just learned how to use the most sophisticated weapon system in the galaxy in about three seconds flat. Nothing odd about that.”

“Concentrate on your piloting, Adam Cain. We’ll explain later.”

Did Summer just call me by my full name? “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Incoming fire,” Summer called out unnecessarily. Adam could see it on his threat board. “Preparing to fire.”

* * *

“Back away,” said the ship’s captain, having just witnessed the attack on two of the three Confed vessels. “That weapon is too powerful for our shields.”

“Send missiles instead,” said TeraDon Fief. He and Te’moc were on the bridge of the lead Cartel ship, guiding the squadron of six against the vessel carrying the Humans and the Juirean. He was still fuming over Saz Daen’s monumental mistake of sending the Cartel troops to the wrong ship at the spaceport. The vessel he sent them to was a derelict and in the process of being stripped. They could not use it to escape. Instead, the troops completely ignored the sleek and modern craft that stood out from the others at the facility, and which sat only a short distance away.

Now they were chasing a craft that just took out two attackers with a concentrated beam weapon. The Cartel ships were no match for the Human vessel, at least not in space. On the surface of Sasin, it would have been a whole other matter.

The ship jerked from the launch of ten guided missiles at the fleeing spacecraft. Te’moc had authorized lethal force, just as he had for the first space attack. The missiles were small and fast and would be much harder to target and avoid. With any luck, they would get a hit.

Then the threat board flared.

“What just happened,” asked the ship’s captain.

“An energy bloom,” someone answered. “It is promulgating. The missiles will impact it in three seconds. One, now four… all missiles have been destroyed.”

“Follow them,” Te’moc said, taking command. “Their engines are underpowered, so it will not be difficult. Do not lose contact.”

“My Lord! The ship has vanished.”

Te’moc moved to a station and called up the latest data. “Give me complete computer access—hurry!”

He went to work on a keyboard, data streaming across the screen faster than TeraDon could make it out. The creature was reprogramming the computer. But for what purpose?

A dot appeared on the forward screen, followed by another a short distance away… and then another. Then a line joined the three points. The view zoomed out until this part of the galaxy appeared. The line extended farther into the galaxy.

“Plot a course along that line,” Te’moc said to no one in particular.

“What happened?” TeraDon asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“They have a trans-dimensional drive. I have programmed the sensors to detect the course. It will provide us with the general direction, but over time, the specificity of the track will be lost as they gain more distance on us.”

“How will we track them at that point?”

“As I always have, TeraDon. Only this time the signal will be intermittent as the vessel moves between universes. Rest assured. They can be tracked. And the fact that they are in a TD starship has now provided me with another valuable clue for my quest.”

TeraDon didn’t pursue the subject. Te’moc had always been cryptic about how he knew what he knew. This was just one more thing he would keep a mystery.

21

Once the Arya was safely out of the Sasin star system and hopping smoothly along a trans-dimensional course back to Formil, Adam was not only anxious for answers but demanding them. He sat Summer, Monty and Tidus in the spacious central meeting area aboard the starship and began pacing in front of them.

“What’s going on with the three of you?” he barked. “I’ve seen some weird shit happen that all of you seem reluctant to talk about, especially you!” Adam pointed a finger at Summer.

For her part, the young blonde wasn’t as reserved as before. Instead, she leaned back on the sofa and crossed her legs, a sly smile on her face. Monty and Tidus moved a few inches away to either side as if Summer was radioactive.

“It is good to see you again, Adam Cain,” said a somewhat deeper, more confident voice. “It has been a while.”

Adam staggered back, shaking his head and blinking. “Yeah, about three weeks. And what’s up with this Adam Cain bullshit? What happened to you just calling me Adam?”

“Because that would not be appropriate. For you see, it is not Summer who is speaking with you at this moment, but me…J’nae.”

Adam stopped in his tracks, the angry look on his face replaced by slack-jawed shock. Better than most, he knew the significance of the statement. He also didn’t need any convincing of its veracity.

“Is Summer still in there, or have you taken over completely?”

“She is here and very much in control, although occasionally I exert my will. And as you have witnessed, I come at the most advantageous of times.”

Adam looked to Monty and Tidus. “How long have you known about this?”

“I had my suspicions since the first event?” said Tidus.

“Event?”

“Yes, when the Cartel attacked the Forty. It was through Summer’s—or J’nae’s—uncanny efficiency with the flash cannon that allowed us to survive. After that, the specter of J’nae has surfaced periodically to assist. I can say with confidence that had this not occurred, you would not be speaking with us today.”

“Is he right?” Adam asked Monty.

The former Navy master chief nodded. “But Summer is still Summer, to a point. She’s not happy about this, but from what J’nae says, there’s nothing she can do about it.”

“And you believe her?” Adam looked back at Summer/J’nae. “You have to remember, I know J’nae, and I barely survived the last experience. And now you want me to believe that having J’nae inside Summer is a good thing?”

“I am not your enemy, Adam Cain, not anymore, and certainly not in my current state. As I said before, Summer still controls her destiny. I only surface when called upon, either consciously or subconsciously.”

“Subconsciously?”

“Yes, when her mind calls out for help. And then I can only affect certain outcomes; for instance, the operation of sophisticated systems aboard a starship or a limited enhancement of physical abilities. Those are things of which I am infinitely qualified. However, there was a situation recently that required skills only Summer possessed. Even so, I helped enhance her body’s ability to perform at optimum efficiency, yet it was she who guided her actions. So far, this symbiotic relationship has proven to be quite beneficial.”

Adam wasn’t buying it. He felt tremendous guilt over what happened to Summer; after all, it was he who fed her the green J’nae-juice in the first place. It did save her life…or did it? Instead, it saved J’nae’s, while shoving Summer into the backseat.

“Can I talk with her, to get her side of things?”

“Of course.”

Adam watched as the confident, almost humorous, expression on Summer’s face changed to one softer and more confused, with eyes expressing sorrow.

“Summer?”

“Yes, Adam. I know this is strange to you but imagine what it’s like from my point of view.”

He nodded. “Are you okay with this?”

“Of course not! I want her out of me, no matter what benefits she says she brings to the table. This is all bullshit.”

Adam watched the pretty face turn flush as tears streamed down her face. The scene was gut-wrenching.

Adam felt a special attachment to Summer; he had since the first moment they met when he believed she was his daughter, if only for a moment. That moment had a profound effect on him. He glanced at Monty, thinking Summer definitely had to take after her mother since daddy didn’t look anything like her. But she did look like Adam.

When it was believed Monty died on Zinnol fighting Kracion, Sherri and Adam unofficially adopted the 22-year-old, using her to create a make-believe family of sorts; the family Adam and Sherri never had together. Summer was a replacement for his true daughter, Cassie, who died twenty years earlier during the first alien attack on Earth. But Summer wasn’t his. Nor was she Sherri’s. But in their disjointed reality, where any link with home and the past was tenuous, it was understandable how the instincts of the pair would surface. And the feelings didn’t go away after it was learned Monty—her real father—was still alive.

Adam was okay with that, especially since Summer never accepted Adam and Sherri’s infatuation with her. She just shrugged it off as a couple of old busybodies trying to get up in her business.

But now, seeing the pain and desperation in Summer’s blue eyes, Adam’s heart was breaking. And what made it so much worse was the fact that J’nae was the cause of all that pain. The damn Sol-Kor mutant queen may have had an epiphany at one point which led her to help the Aris, but to Adam, she was still the same evil bitch who nearly killed him and all the people he loved and cared for. Forgiveness did not come easy to Adam Cain.

“And J’nae says she can’t be removed…or won’t?” Adam asked, pointedly.

“She says she doesn’t know.”

“And if she did, would she tell you?”

Summer shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Can she hear us now?”

“Yes, since I’m talking. But she says she can’t read my thoughts.”

His frustration and anger grew, although he held it back. He didn’t want to start ranting and raving, especially since it would be directed at Summer… or another part of Summer.

“I told her you would get Panur and Lila to help,” said Monty, his tone full of sorrow and desperation.

Adam leaned back against the food processor counter, his mind racing. The Arya was currently on a course back to the Behemoth, where he would drop the trio off before heading out to meet up with Panur and the others. They were never part of the original mission. But how could he do that now? Summer desperately needed help, and the mutants were the only ones who could.

“I’ll change course,” he said finally. “I’ll get Panur and Lila to do all they can. After all, this whole mutant essence stuff is Panur’s specialty. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, he can.” He looked back at Summer. “Hang in there. It should be a smooth ride from here on out. There’s no way the Cartel can tell where we’re going. And they certainly can’t match our speed, not with the TD-drive. We should meet up with the rest of the team in about five days, so just relax. And do me a favor, Summer. If you can, keep J’nae away from me. We don’t have a very friendly history together.”

22

Trans-dimensional travel consisted of opening tiny holes in the space-time continuum and entering another universe. The ship then reenters the Milky Way at a different angle, reappearing hundreds of light-years from the original entry point. However, there was a process to follow before a ship could create another portal, so it wasn’t a constant series of hopping motions, but more like cruise along for a while, make a jump, and then cruise along some more. Even still, a TD ship cut the transit time between points by a factor of five or more, turning a twenty-five-day transit out to the fringe of the Kidis Frontier to only five.

The star around which the planet orbited containing the ancient Aris Technician base had never been given a name. But it did have a designation, assigned to it by early surveyors who then passed the label on to the Juireans who then gave it to the Formilians for inclusion in their galactic Library. It was called AD-14c—after the Human translation—and the team had taken to calling it Addie, which was better than the star around which the Aris planet orbits.

After capturing Kracion, Panur and Lila planned on disposing of the immortal creature by casting him into Addie, where he would forever burn in Hell, his body in an endless cycle of instant regeneration over billions of years. However, just as the pod carrying him was about to impact the star, the team’s sensors went down, losing all data on whether or not the vessel crashed into the star. Afterward, Panur detected the tell-tale signs of TD travel in a line intersecting the path of the pod. Not too many races possessed trans-dimensional technology, so suspicion immediately fell upon the Aris and the fifteen surviving members of that ancient race.

The prospects were devastating to the team. After the Herculean effort spent ridding the galaxy of the menace that was Kracion, there was a very good possibility he was still alive. Of course, that phrase did not apply in the normal sense to an immortal being such as Kracion. What it meant, however, was that he hadn’t been condemned to billions of years of imprisonment within Addie’s fiery interior. He was still out there, somewhere, and doing something. That’s what scared the hell out of everyone.

Being one of their own, did the Aris rescue Kracion and then let him go, free to create even more havoc in this universe or others? Or did they intend to punish him in a way only they could envision?

Since the mutants could track the path of the Aris vessel, they had a means of finding out which option applied. Now the Sansa, with a crew comprised of Panur, Lila, Sherri, Riyad and Copernicus sat three million kilometers from Addie’s roiling yellow surface, tweaking the sensors and preparing to make the jump into another universe.

The Arya slid up beside her sister ship and a pressurized umbilical tunnel was placed between them. After a brief reunion—it had only been eight days since Adam left the Behemoth and his friends—the subject of Summer and J’nae came up.

Adam was a little disappointed when he saw the softness on Panur’s face when he learned a version of J’nae lived on within the young woman. He was anxious to speak with his creation again, as a father would a long-estranged daughter.

“What do you remember?” asked the grey mutant. “I mean about the procedure.”

“There was no pain, of course, since we cannot feel pain.” The voice coming from Summer laughed. “There was no awareness, either. I was whole one moment, the next it was as if I was in a fog, fighting to see. I could sense a presence, a phantom of some kind. I fought for understanding. When the truth became known, I was devastated.”

“You were devastated?” Sherri snapped with sarcasm. “Why? It was Summer’s body you were invading.”

The team was huddled together in the lounge of the Sansa, each anxious to learn more, as they took time off from the preparations for the main mission.

“I did not know that at first. To me, it was as if my body had been possessed. The feeling was understandable from my point of view.”

“But you volunteered to be cut into pieces and fed to the Aris. You should have expected this.”

“That is not how the process works, Sherri Valentine; however, I understand you are taking poetic license with your metaphors.”

Adam found it strange how easily he came to accept this persona to be that of J’nae, even as he was looking at Summer’s young face. He could also tell when it was Summer who was in control. Her features went through subtle changes, along with the way she carried herself. During the trip to Addie, he had several conversations with both entities, and he could tell they were frustrated. Summer was adamant about wanting the essence out of her, while J’nae sought acceptance from Summer, knowing that the situation was probably irreversible.

Adam was still confused how simply drinking a green liquid could cause all this….

“For all I know, this could be how my counterparts feel within the Aris,” J’nae continued. “It was how I envisioned it, a sharing of a body and a richness of experiences.”

“I don’t believe that’s the case,” Panur said. “We’ve had interactions with Kracion after the transition, as well as a few of the other Aris. I sensed no sharing of bodies taking place, no accommodation for another presence. That could have something to do with the infusion process. Perhaps when your other elements merged with the Aris, it was a deeper, more absorbing process. However, with Summer you have retained much of your identity and ability to control—”

“To control her!” Monty shouted. There was a nervous silence for a moment. “My daughter is possessed by a demon. Isn’t there anything you can do about it?”

Panur’s mind operated on a different level than other creatures, so when he hesitated answering, Adam sensed something wasn’t right, something he wasn’t saying. But then Adam probed deeper into his own memory. There was something there, something having to do with this very subject that was an itch in the back of his mind. It was vague; he also knew it was real.

“Have you ever told me about a way to reverse this infusion process?” he asked Panur. “I seem to remember something about it.”

Panur shook his head. “I have never spoken of such a thing… because it is not possible.”

Having heard the blunt statement, Summer forced her way back into the forefront of her mind, taking over the conversation. “That can’t be true!” she cried out. “If you can put it in, then you can get it out. There has to be a way.”

“I’m sorry, Summer,” Panur said. “I can’t. It is not within my power to do so.”

Summer looked to Lila, her pretty form sitting straight-backed and proper next to Panur. “Can you think of something? You’re a genius, too; you’re both fucking geniuses. If you don’t know how to do this, then dammit…think of something!”

Watching the sudden change in personalities within Summer gave Adam concern. What if Summer lost it and went crazy? At that point, she would be unable to hold back J’nae, losing herself completely. From what he’d seen and heard over the past few days, she was trending in that direction.

“Stay strong, Summer,” he said, reaching over from his chair and taking her hand in his. “Don’t let her win. Hold her back and only let her out when you want her out. It could just be a matter of practice—”

“That’s easy for you to say!”

Panur leaned forward, nearer to the sobbing Summer Rains. “We—Lila and I—will think on this. You know we can compartmentalize our minds so multiple problems can be worked on simultaneously. Even though we may be otherwise engaged, have confidence that we are working on your behalf.” The mutant smiled. “And although a solution is not known at this time, imagine all the things that did not exist until we thought of them. There is still hope.”

He stood up, followed by Lila.

“Our calibrations are nearly complete. Later today, we will begin launching probes into several of the target universes in search of the Aris TD track. Once it’s located, we will make our jump.”

“You still haven’t told us what will happen if and when we find the Aris,” Copernicus stated. “It seems to me that if the Aris wanted to be found they wouldn’t be hiding so well.”

Exasperation filled Panur’s grey face. “Again, your constant refrain, Mr. Smith.” He then looked at Summer. “Yet it is no different than Summer’s situation. There are unknowns which only await knowing. So to answer your question, and in your Human vernacular, we will play it by ear.”

23

Six days after arriving on station at AD-14c, a dozen probes were sent through tiny portals into various universes Panur had determined as the likely targets of the Aris location.

The drones returned after a couple of hours, revealing their secrets. Half had appeared in the vast void between galaxies and showed no trace of TD transit. The rest arrived within galaxies, which were more likely targets for a species as intelligent and curious as the Aris.

And one of the probes returned having picked up a faint trail of weak points within the fabric of space, indicating a perforation by trans-dimensional portals.

The two-ship task force jumped only minutes after confirmation of the signal.

TD travel was always a disappointment to Adam. It seemed every universe, in the universe of universes, contained the same basic elements. There was nothing exotic or freaky about anywhere he went. Granted, he’d only been to a couple of other universes, which he had to admit was more than most people. But from what he’d learned from the more experienced and universe-traveled Panur, that was pretty much the case. Same ole, same ole, over and over again.

To Adam, that begged the question that if everything was the same, why have so many universes? Why not just one great big universe that contained, well…everything?

As he stood at the viewport on the bridge of the Sansa, looking out at a cluster of brilliant stars dead ahead, he figured such questions were above his paygrade. It didn’t matter anyway. Existence was the way it was and would always be. Who was he to concern himself with such philosophical inquiries?

“Holy crap, I’m picking up something…something big!” said Copernicus from a monitoring station along the portside bulkhead. Most of the fancy sensors were aboard the Sansa, while the Arya served mainly as a backup—a life raft in a way—in case something happened to the lead ship. It was never a good idea to go hiking alone, especially if you were hiking in a foreign universe.

The ship was on autopilot, tracking a course along the dotted signal that had grown stronger over the nine days they’d been following it.

“It’s probably just a planet,” said Sherri. She sat in a rear observation seat with her feet propped up on a nearby console. “You know, they’re those big round things you find in solar systems.”

Adam grimaced. Sherri had always been a smartass, but recently she’d been taking an inordinate number of nasty swipes at her lover, Copernicus Smith. Sure, he was pretty basic in his thinking, but he was also a genius when it came to starship repair. He’d also been a top covert agent for Earth’s government, able to extract intelligence out of some of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the galaxy. The man had skills, even if Sherri didn’t acknowledge them.

“I think I’d recognize a planet if I saw one,” Coop snapped back.

“Would you?”

Adam blew out a puff of air. This isn’t going to last, he thought. Although Sherri and Coop had been together for several years, Sherri had a bad habit of discarding men when she grew bored. To his credit, Copernicus was her longest affair, but that record was coming to an end. Everyone saw the writing on the wall—everyone except Coop.

Panur and Lila entered the bridge having heard the announcement.

“Is it a planet?” Panur asked.

Coop bit his bottom lip. “No, it’s not a planet. It’s something else, and it’s moving.” The last sentence was directed at Sherri.

“Moving…like around a star?”

“No. It’s actually on a collision course with us.”

This prompted Sherri to pull her feet from the console and take notice.

Lila was at a scanner scope. “It is a station, about one third the size of the Colony Ship, operating through multiple gravity signatures. It is on the exact path as the TD signal yet headed in this direction. It must be the Aris coming to greet us.”

“Or destroy us,” Copernicus whispered.

“They have no cause to destroy us, Mr. Smith,” said Panur. “The Aris are too intelligent, too curious…and they’re immortal. We are no threat to them. And if they did abscond with Kracion, our arrival here would have been predicted. Adam, contact the Arya and have them stop. We are doing the same. We will wait for their arrival.”

A glance at a stream of data on her screen and Lila reported: “At current course and speed, rendezvous in thirty-eight minutes.”

* * *

Although comm links were open, scanning millions of frequencies simultaneously, the Aris chose not to communicate until their huge, ball of a starship came within a few thousand kilometers of the Sansa and stopped. To no one’s surprise, the weathered face of Nunki, the lead Privileged Aris, appeared on the main screen of the Sansa. The same image was displayed in the Arya, where Summer, Monty and Tidus resided, having formed a mini-team of their own based on common experiences. Adam was okay with that. Although he adored Summer, he despised J’nae. The farther apart they stayed, the better. Besides, Summer was keeping busy—and her mind off of things—by learning how to pilot the TD starship, even as it was J’nae helping her.

On the screen, Nunki’s thin face was frowning. “I have been expecting you, Panur. And I am pleased to see that you have the Apex Being with you. Welcome. Your combined abilities will be helpful.”

“Helpful, for what?” Panur asked.

“For the assistance we need from you.”

“Are you saying you manipulated us into coming?”

“In the overall, yes. But specifically related to recent events, no.”

Adam grinned. He loved it when even the mutant genius Panur was confused.

Nunki continued. “The matter at hand will require some time to explain. I will direct you to a landing bay where you may place your vessels. Please hurry. There is not much time.”

Not much time? Adam repeated in his mind. For an immortal, how did that statement make sense? Now Adam was confused, but there was nothing unusual about that.

* * *

Nunki was waiting in the landing bay when the Sansa and Arya slid in and powered down. When the full team disembarked, Nunki raised his hand.

“Only Panur and the Apex Being will be allowed in. The rest will stay aboard your ships.”

Adam stepped up to the lead Aris. “We came here to find out what happened to Kracion. Did you rescue him?”

The slightly-built, emaciated alien looked the Human up and down, a stern look on his face.

“When last we met Adam Cain, you killed three of the Privileged. I see, even now you do not realize the significance of that event nor appreciate the absolute horror it evoked in the Aris.”

“It was self-defense. Besides, it doesn’t seem like the Aris have any reservations about killing, when they’re the ones doing the killing.”

“Kracion was an anomaly. And it was not self-defense in your case,” Nunki countered calmly. “At the time, the Aris were not a threat, to you or the galaxy.”

“You were to Lila. I wasn’t going to let you have my daughter to experiment with.”

“That was not your decision to make. The Apex Being did not belong to you; she belonged to the Aris.”

“Bullshit. That’s not how I saw it.”

“And so you took the lives of beings who had lived for three billion years, and you did it at the very moment when they were to achieve immortality. It was not only a tragedy but an insult.”

“You started it.”

Nunki laughed. “That statement is truer than you realize. Yes, we started it. We started everything. We started the Humans and Formilians races, which without us, there would have been no parents to create your daughter. Then we gave an unfathomable amount of time and effort to make your daughter possible. All we wanted was the Apex Being—your Lila. We did not want the galaxy, and we do not want it now. Do you not agree that we had a greater claim on Lila than you?”

“On that we’re going to have to agree to disagree. She’s my daughter, and you had no right to kidnap her and threaten to slice and dice her up in the name of your Grand Experiment.”

“Yet we did, and Lila agreed. If it had not been for the creature J’nae, Lila would not be standing here with us today.” He looked at Lila’s lovely form. “Even now, she still brings such joy to the hearts of all Aris. You will always be the crowning achievement of my race.”

“You guys have hearts?” Adam asked, sarcastically. “I wouldn’t know, not after what one of your kind did to hundreds of worlds. Kracion killed off trillions of your so-called children, and you don’t give a damn. All you care about is your precious experiment. And you still haven’t answered my question. Do you have Kracion or not?”

“Yes, we do.”

“And what do you intend to do with him?” Panur asked. “Just as you made an incredible effort at creating Lila, we also made a tremendous effort to stop Kracion from destroying even more. We hope our efforts were not in vain.”

The look on Nunki’s face changed, the confident, almost humorous look replaced with one of sorrow.

“Kracion is in our custody. What happens to him will depend on the outcome of several scenarios, many of which you and the Apex Being may play a part.”

Panur nodded. “You said you need our help. Please explain.”

“I will, but not here. Please accompany me. We have prepared a briefing.” He looked at Adam next. “And as I said earlier, the presentation is for only Panur and Lila. The rest of you will wait here.”

The team took a few steps forward, not willing to let the mutants simply walk away with the Aris. It could be a trap.

Nunki stopped them with a grin.

“And what do you think you can do?” he said to the group. “We have been expecting you. Do you think you can do anything to stop us from doing whatever we wish with you and your friends?”

Adam didn’t like the sound of that. It was a trap.

“Yet I assure you, no harm will come to the immortals. We need them. And once they hear what I have to say, they will be willing participants in our efforts.”

He looked to Panur and Lila. They hesitated only a heartbeat before following the Aris out of the landing bay.

Riyad stepped up next to Adam. “So, what do we do now?”

Adam looked at the other worried faces of the team. He summed up the situation. They were enclosed in a huge Aris space station, in another universe, and without the mutants. There wasn’t much they could do.

“So… who brought the cards?”

* * *

The mutants were gone two hours before they returned to the Sansa appearing serious, if not a little weary. Adam didn’t think immortals could become weary, but they could become worried.

“What happened; are you all right?”

Panur led them into the central meeting room of the starship, asking everyone to sit down. Lila averted her eyes, which made Adam more nervous. Something big was happening, big enough to worry the mutants.

“I will attempt to explain,” Panur began. “And you must believe what I tell you, no matter how counterintuitive it may seem. You must agree, Lila and I have a better grasp of these things than you.”

“You’re scaring us,” Summer said. Adam noticed it was the Human within the woman talking and not the alien. If the presentation got too intense, he was sure that would change.

“We have been presented with some startling information which will require a summary to make sense. It involves the makeup of the multiverse, the reality we exist in where there are countless other universes other than our own. You are fully aware of this since most in this room have traveled extensively to other dimensions, including where we now find ourselves.”

He paused to make sure he had their attention. He did.

“As background, each universe is separated from the other by a small void the width of a hydrogen atom. Filling this void is a material some have mistakenly called dark matter, which forms a type of cushion between the dimensions. What you may not realize is that this boundary is not solid. In fact, it is rather porous, and there is constant leakage, but not so much between universes, but from the void area itself. Dark matter—and its accompanying energy—is prevalent throughout existence; in fact, it is what determines the type of universe which will exist in each dimension.”

“Type?” Riyad asked. “I’ve been to a few universes, and they all seem to be the same.”

“That is true, Mr. Tarazi, with regards to the material make up. What I’m referring to is whether the universe will be expanding or contracting. More dark matter and the universe will expand until it becomes so diffuse that it eventually burns itself out. We refer to this as a low-pressure universe. With less dark matter, the universe will initially expand and then contract, returning to a single point to become a high-pressure universe. Most universes are in neutral periods in their lifecycle, where the pressure between them is within tolerance for inter-dimensional travel.

“I will now regress in time. When a rupture occurs involving a high-pressure universe, the other dimension is filled instantly with all the contents from the high-pressure dimension. You will be interested to learn that that is how our universe was created.”

“You mean the Big Bang?” Sherri asked. “But you’re saying there was another universe here first?”

“Exactly.”

“What happened to it?”

“That is another interesting fact. As the material from the high-pressure universe enters, it forms a shockwave which pushes all the old material outward. If there were instruments capable of seeing that far, they would reach to the edge of the known universe and see nothing. This is the void created from the shockwave. However, if they could see even farther, they would come upon the remains of the old universe.”

“You’ve talked about this before, how it’s not safe to just bounce between universes without checking the pressures first.”

“That’s right. And we test the pressures by measuring the deformation of the buffer zone between universes. However, ruptures between universes occur all the time since there is a fair amount of rubbing taking place that weakens the membrane. If a rupture occurs between high-pressure and low-pressure universes, a Big Bang event is triggered.”

“From how worried you guys look, are you saying a new Big Bang is coming?” Monty asked, joining the conversation.

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves. But what I can say is that the universe is facing the possibility of an unprecedented catastrophe and for which the Aris are trying desperately to prevent.”

Adam laughed, which surprised everyone in the room. “Excuse me, but if you wanted to reveal a twist in the plot, you couldn’t have used a better line.”

“This is serious, Adam,” Panur scolded.

“Sorry.”

“Continuing: The Aris have discovered an anomaly taking place that could have dire consequences, not only for our universe but this one as well.”

“What is it?” Riyad asked.

Panur sighed deeply. “I have an order to my presentation. May I please proceed as I have planned? Now, let me speak of trans-dimensional travel, something we are all familiar with.”

“That was a jarring segue,” said Sherri, the smartass.

Panur glared at her. Then… “I was able to track the Aris because as a TD vessel transits space, it leaves a record of the tiny holes it creates in the membrane between universes. These rips damage the fabric and take time to heal, during which there is a leakage of dark matter from the buffer zone into both universes. Depending on the pressure differential, this leakage can be minor or significant. But since no two universes are of the same pressure, there is always transference.”

He paused and looked at his audience, allowing them the opportunity to interrupt. No one took it; it wouldn’t have been interrupting at that point. He continued.

“The Aris have discovered a significant rip in the membrane between this universe and ours, and it is growing.”

“And it was caused by TD engines?” Copernicus asked. “That’s silly. The holes the drives make are minuscule compared to a whole universe. How can that hurt anything?”

Adam was expecting another outburst from Panur, but instead, the mutant appeared… embarrassed? “Taken individually, you are correct, Mr. Smith. However, cumulatively, the damage can be catastrophic. Consider: The Aris developed TD travel a hundred thousand years before they began their Grand Experiment, but they used it sparingly. Then over the three billion years of the experiment, the Technicians used TD travel to move between systems monitoring the progress. All this had a cumulative effect on the fabric between universes. Then once I developed the technology, the effect was magnified.”

“You mean with your huge TD portals?”

Panur smirked. “Fortunately, my transit portals are not the issue. I will use an example to explain why. Take a sheet of material. If you drill a large hole in the middle, the integrity of the material is compromised, but not significantly. Now drill hundreds of tiny holes across the surface in a line, and you have now perforated the board, making it easy to break along the line. As Mr. Smith pointed out, by themselves, the individual tears in the space-time continuum create no lasting damage. However, from the use of my drives, the effect exacerbated one of these already weakened areas in the membrane caused by the natural interaction between dimensions. A rupture opened, and it is growing.”

“So there is another Big Bang coming!” Monty exclaimed.

“Not exactly, Master Chief. It’s more like a slow ooze. Yet as the tear grows, it will become exponentially worse until finally there is a great flood of material passing through which will push away all other matter in our universe and suck it from the other.”

“So how much time do we have?” Sherri asked dejectedly.

“A million years… at the current rate of expansion.”

Everyone sat up.

“A million years!” Copernicus shouted for all of them. “The way you were going on, I thought it was going to be next week.”

“A million years is but a blip in the time of the universe.”

“Yeah, but that’s plenty of time to repair this thing, isn’t it? And by then, all of us will be long gone…well, except for you and Lila.”

“The Aris were working on a long term solution.”

“That’s great,” Riyad said. “They’re a lot smarter than all of us… wait, you said were working on a solution. What happened?”

“The Aris had a plan to repair the rip permanently when Kracion ruined it for them.”

“Kracion!” Adam yelled. “Figures.”

“Allow me to continue,” Lila said, stepping center stage. “The Aris are currently slowing the progression of the tear by diverting the dark energy passing through the rupture through their bodies. As you know, they absorb energy directly, just do Panur and I. The Aris are in a unique position to do this because of their regenerative properties, which allows their bodies to tolerate the incredible forces at play. Unfortunately, there are not enough Aris for the task.”

“They want you and Panur to join them?” Adam asked. “That’s crazy. You’ll be committing yourself to a million years of torture. Even then, you say this can’t be prevented.”

“They are not asking us to join the line,” Lila said. “Currently, eight of the surviving fifteen Aris are stationed at critical points along the rupture, channeling the energy back into the void between universes. But it is not enough. Nunki planned to use the surviving Technician Aris at Kracion’s base to assist in the effort. He knew of the remaining vials of J’nae’s essence and had learned that only a small amount of it was required to give the Aris their regenerative abilities. There would be enough to convert the one hundred twenty Aris that were in hibernation, although with this reduced amount of essence, the potency would only last a few thousand years. That would be long enough. That many Aris could form a tight suture along the fissure, allowing the natural migration of universes to repair the tear before a catastrophic blowout could occur.”

“And then Kracion killed the other Aris,” Adam stated bluntly.

“That is correct. And along with them the only long term solution to the problem was ruined. The only reason Nunki is keeping Kracion viable is in case he is needed in a last-ditch effort to stave off the full breach. And now, he has brought us in to work on an alternative solution, one that can be achieved without the Aris.”

“Can you do that?” Sherri asked.

“It remains to be seen. We have only just been informed of the problem. However, Nunki realizes Panur has more experience with inter-dimensional technology than even the Aris. Their technology is billions of years old. And besides, they admire him.” She looked at the mutant and smiled. “With J’nae, he accomplished what it took them three billion years to create, and he did it through a much simpler process. The Aris are in awe of him.”

Panur took the floor again. “Therefore, Lila and I will be staying with the Aris and working on this problem.”

“For how long?” Adam asked, suddenly realizing what they were saying.

“It could be a very long time,” Lila said softly.

“Well, hell.”

“You must realize, I feel partially responsible for what has happened,” Panur said. “And as a result, I will modify the TD technology so there will never be a replay of this event. Until then, I would limit the use of TD travel. Ground-based portals are okay, but not spaceships zipping through space. That could be bad.”

“What about us?” Summer asked. She had been quiet for most of the presentation, as had J’nae.

“You will take the Arya and return home,” Panur said to the room. “The Sansa will remain with us. There is nothing you can do here to help.”

“I was talking about us—me and J’nae,” Summer corrected, her voice firm. “You promised to help me. You can’t do that while you’re here with the Aris. So I’m staying, at least until you can get this damn thing out of me.”

“I’m sorry, Summer, but we are still at a loss on how to help you,” said Lila. “And with the severity of this new crisis, we are going to have to devote our full attention to the problem.”

“And just forget about me?”

“Perhaps if a solution comes to mind, we can communicate with you later,” Lila offered. “Until then, please return home and attempt to cope with the situation.”

“Cope….” Summer’s voice trailed off, prompting Monty to place a comforting arm around his daughter. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to see the workings taking place in her mind. There was a final solution; Adam hoped she wouldn’t take it.

He stood up. “At least we get to go home. And look on the bright side, we have a million years before anything really bad happens, and that’s if our genius friends here don’t come up with a fix long before that. I have confidence they will. Let’s pack up and get going, and hope that that Te’moc character isn’t still looking for us—”

“Te’moc?” Panur and Summer shouted in unison—although it wasn’t Summer speaking this time, but J’nae. She shot to her feet.

Adam was taken aback by the reaction. “He’s that Cartel guy who was chasing Summer and her people. Do you know him? I do, sorta.”

“You cannot possibly know Te’moc,” Panur growled. Adam had never heard such a voice come from the mutant.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do. I recognize his name and his face. I can even hear his voice in my head, although I can’t remember when I met him.”

Summer/J’nae was standing next to Panur. Both were staring at Adam with insane eyes. Had he done something wrong?

“What do you know about him?” J’nae demanded.

“Not much. I overheard that TeraDon guy mention his name. I think he’s either a member of the Cartel or he’s working with them.”

Panur and Summer/J’nae turned to each other.

“He is in the Milky Way,” J’nae whispered. “How did he get there?”

“That is obvious. And what is also obvious is why.”

“So, who is he?” Adam asked. “What’s all the fuss? As I said, I’ve met him. How bad can he be?”

“No, Adam, you have not met Te’moc,” Panur stated with finality. “You only think you have.”

24

The five-ship squadron entered the AD-14c star system knowing the object of their search had already left. But there was nowhere else to go.

After an abrupt change of course twenty days before, the TD ship carrying Te’moc’s elusive prize made a beeline for the system. The track wasn’t hard to follow; besides the tell-tale signal only he could detect was strong… and getting stronger.

And then it disappeared.

At first, Te’moc thought nothing of it. The signal was constantly popping in and out as the vessel made the hops between universes. But this last time it stayed gone, meaning so was his target. She was in another universe, and it appeared as if she intended to stay there.

But Te’moc was already committed to the journey. He would go to where the source vanished if only to see if he could gain another clue.

And that’s when he detected the second presence. It was extremely faint and could only be detected once in the system and without the interference from the much stronger primary signal. It was also stationary.

After a series of sweeps across the system to locate the source, Te’moc eventually focused on a desolate and barren world, devoid of life. It took TeraDon and his people two days to locate the hidden entrance to an underground facility and bypass the security measures to enter. Armed Cartel troops led the way, cautious of any potential threats. They found no living threats, but they did find a tomb.

They discovered the bodies of three aliens, all of the same race. TeraDon recognized them immediately. They were Aris, the same race as Kracion.

Even with his moniker as The Mad Aris, there was very little known of Kracion or his species. The most anyone knew was he was an immortal from another universe and came pouring out of the Juddle Nebula with fleets of Klin causing death and destruction across half the galaxy. Yet within this lost world at the edge of the galaxy, TeraDon and his people found other Aris—mortal Aris, apparently—in an ancient base. And when a vast hibernation chamber was later discovered, containing even more dead Aris, the mystery only grew deeper.

But Te’moc wasn’t concerned with the enigma that was the Aris. He now moved through the cold and deserted corridors, seeking resolution to a mystery of his own.

Eventually, he came to a room, sparsely furnished with only a pair of cots. That’s when he found it. He entered and bent down, his breath coming in short gasps.

A small glass vial lay on the floor, its tip broke off and the contents gone — all except for a single drop of bright green liquid resting conspicuously on the concrete floor.

Te’moc leaned in closer, gazing reverently at the drop. Instantly, it all became clear….

“Hello, sister,” he said softly. “It has been a long time. And now I understand; it has been your essence I have been tracking and not you.” He snickered. “Now my task is simpler; however, the Sol-Kor will not be pleased. No, they will not be pleased in the slightest. In fact, they will be devastated.”

25

“Your memories of Te’moc are my memories, Adam,” Panur was saying. “As a result of our mind meld, you’re experiencing a form of genetic memory transfer. It’s nothing to be concerned with and should only come intermittently.”

“Anything else you’ve been keeping from me? And here you had me monitored. So who is Te’moc? The two of you are freaking out just from the mention of his name?”

“Te’moc is a creation of the Eternal Queen of the Sol-Kor, just as I,” Panur continued. “Yet it is more complicated than that. But let me say, if not for Te’moc, I would not be here today.”

“He’s another immortal mutant, like you?” Adam asked, a little worried that the memories he thought were his, weren’t. What other false recollections did he have or would have in the future?

“No, Te’moc is not immortal, not in the traditional sense.” He paused. “I see from the blank stares further explanation is required.”

“Ya think,” said Sherri. She was fidgeting on the couch, looking as if she had to pee, but not wanting to leave in the middle of the big reveal.

Panur smirked. “Let me continue. Even Eternal Queens get bored, and five thousand years ago, to occupy her mind, she embarked on an ambitious plan to create a new kind of being, someone who would live as long as she and would keep her company. The Sol-Kor she produced died off constantly, leaving her no continuity of thought, no one she could truly confide in. So she tasked her scientists with creating an immortal.” He looked purposefully at Adam and Riyad. “As some of you know firsthand, the Eternal Queen was not eternal, yet as long as she provided for the Colony and guided their civilization in an efficient manner, she was maintained. She was the longest surviving Queen in Sol-Kor history at this point, and with the prospect of lasting even longer.

“To accomplish her goal, she had first to create a master being, something that could be used throughout her experiments to refine and advance the process she had in mind. The being she created was Te’moc, and he became a sort of living incubator for the various versions of the life essence that would be at the center of each new creation. Also, as a basic requirement for the experiment, blank lifeforms were developed, beings without cognitive abilities. Later, these masters would be infused with the life essence in multiple stages, each time a more refined version of the last.” Panur smiled and waved his hands over his tiny grey body. “What you see here is that basic body form. Later models were more aesthetically pleasing.” He looked at Summer/J’nae and winked.

He returned to his narration. “Once the life essence was introduced, these blanks became living creatures, and over time, began to take on a life of their own. The problem in the early stages of the experiment was that the extraction process for the essence would kill the host body, which meant a return to the baseline after each transition. As Te’moc himself developed, it became possible for him to extract the essence without destroying the host. This was a major breakthrough, and it was from Te’moc that my body received many of my long-term abilities, such as shapeshifting and cell regeneration. No, I was not born immortal. That was an upgrade.”

“How could he do that, extract the essence?” Summer asked. “I thought you said that was impossible?” Adam knew what she was getting at. So did Panur.

“Unlike the basic cellular fusions I can perform, Te’moc can completely merge with another body. At that point, the experimental life essence will bond with his cells, and when he withdraws, the essence goes with him. The process is unique to him. I cannot do it. However, Te’moc did this countless times, and with each cycle, the essence became more distilled, more refined, until the last infusion, which resulted in… me.”

He looked at Summer’s anxious face. “Do not consider this, Summer. The process only works on certain lifeforms, and Humans are not one of them.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m Panur. Accept what I say.”

Summer’s shoulders slumped as the spirit drained from her body. Monty reached over and took her hand.

“It was an idea,” he said, comforting her.

“What about J’nae?” Riyad asked. “Is that how you created her?” As he spoke, he stood up from the couch. Unlike Sherri, he wasn’t waiting for Panur to finish his excruciatingly long story; he was hungry and went into the galley to fix lunch. He could still listen from the kitchen. This new interruption, however, promoted a wholesale exodus to the bathrooms. When Adam came back—after washing his hands—he also grabbed a bite from the food processor before returning to his chair.

Panur stood impatiently to one side of the room, pursing his thin lips.

When everyone was back in their seats, Adam waved a hand at the mutant. “Go on. As you were saying….”

“I was about to answer Riyad’s question, so I would appreciate no further interruptions.”

“No promises,” Sherri said, quickly flashing Panur a sweet grin.

Panur glared at her but then continued. “J’nae came much later, yet to create her I had to resurrect the ancient technology that had made me. By this time, Te’moc had been retired, which is a polite way of saying he was placed in suspended animation and stored away. The Queen and I decided his special abilities might be useful someday, so we preserved his body and mind.

“The idea for J’nae came to me after the Sol-Kor began using the trans-dimensional technology I developed to explore other galaxies and universes in search of food. The life we encountered was varied and exciting, yet it could also prove dangerous to the Sol-Kor. As Adam has often said, there’s always someone bigger and tougher than you, even for the Sol-Kor. I worried what would happen if an unknown threat destroyed the Queen before replacements could be bred and brought to fruition? The hierarchy of the Sol-Kor system was tenuous; it had always been. So I sought an answer, a way of transitioning the race from a single breeding source to a more traditional system as a way of ensuring the survival of the species. To do this, I needed Te’moc.

“Knowing that the Queen would see my actions as a form of treason, I hid my activities from her in a special facility, a pyramid designated as M-34. This was beyond the normal sequence of the Sol-Kor Colonies, so it was off the books. I brought Te’moc there and began my experiments. After years of attempts, the final version of J’nae was created.”

“But if only Te’moc can extract this essence, how it is the Aris did it with J’nae?” Summer asked, not wanting to leave the subject of extraction. It was strange for Adam and the others when it appeared Summer answered her own question.

“There is a means, yet it always results in the death of the host. The body Panur gave me was just that, a host. However, unlike in your case, it was a blank canvas with no competing personality. It is the same with Panur. His body is just a host to the essence within. I allowed the essence to be extracted from my body—killing it in the process—because I had no intention of returning.”

“And now this Te’moc creature is in the Milky Way? Why?” Copernicus asked.

“The answer is obvious.”

“To you, maybe.”

“That, too, is obvious.” It was Panur’s turn to grin at his joke. When no one else saw the humor, he continued. “First of all, either the war with the Ha’lic is over, or a point has been reached where the Sol-Kor are desperate for the return of their queen. And the only queen they have at this point is J’nae.”

“He’s here to find J’nae,” Monty stated. “And he’s been tracking Summer because she’s in her body. How is he able to know, able to find her?”

“It is simple to understand if you accept the fact that since J’nae’s essence was processed through Te’moc, he can sense her presence, even over thousands of light-years. When I revealed my creation to the Sol-Kor, they learned the location of the facility and of Te’moc’s resurrection.” Another smirk stretched across the mutant’s grey face. “Also, I may have mentioned in my notes Te’moc’s ability to sense the life essence in J’nae. So my conclusion is the Sol-Kor have sought out Te’moc in a desperate attempt to locate J’nae and return her to the Colony.”

“But she’s in pieces,” Sherri pointed out.

“The Sol-Kor don’t know that. The last they saw of J’nae, she was fully intact and being taken to the Milky Way. For all they know, I’m still holding her against her will, and they see sending Te’moc to find her as a way of liberating her. And without a Queen, the Sol-Kor will die as a race.”

“So he’s been following this scent… in me?” Summer asked.

“Apparently.”

“Why didn’t he follow Kracion’s scent or the other Aris?” Adam asked. “And don’t you have the other vials of J’nae juice?”

“First of all, the J’nae juice is frozen. He cannot detect it in that state. And secondly, as I have said on multiple occasions, the Aris are different from other species. The energy that circulates within their bodies must be able to mask the presence of the essence. However, with Summer, the signal is clear and strong within her, more evidence for how thinly absorbed she is into Summer’s system.”

“So the force is strong in this one?” Riyad said with a snicker.

“I understand the reference, Mr. Tarazi, and in this case, you are correct.”

“So he can track me. What happens when I get back home?”

“You said you intend to stay with us until we find a way to extract J’nae from your body.”

“And I thought you didn’t want me to do that.”

“That was before I learned of Te’moc’s presence.”

“But if there’s a chance….”

Panur turned serious. “You do not want to entertain that idea. You don’t know Te’moc as I do. Even if he extracted the essence, it would be deadly to a Human.”

“What would happen to J’nae if that happened?” Adam asked.

Panur looked at Summer, waiting for J’nae to make an appearance and answer the question. When only Summer’s agonized stare met his, he replied.

“It would be such a small amount it would make no difference. As Sherri has so eloquently described, she is in pieces.” He looked at Summer. “But until Te’moc is dealt with, it will be best if you remain here. Lila and I will do all we can to help. It would be much safer if you stay here with us.”

“And how do we deal with Te’moc?” Adam asked. Dealing with situations often fell within his wheelhouse.

“We let time do it. By now, he has lost the scent, and as a result, he will have no reason to remain in the galaxy. Also, the Sol-Kor will be demanding results. Once they learn Te’moc can’t find their Queen, he will lose their support. We bide our time, and he will leave the Milky Way on his own, never to be a concern again.”

26

After the meeting, Summer returned to her tiny cabin aboard the Arya. Because of the design of the ship, there were six private rooms, which was more than normal for a ship this size. With Summer and Monty staying behind, there would be five people returning to the Milky Way.

You know Panur is wrong, J’nae said inside her mind.

Summer didn’t take the bait, trying to exert her independence by not engaging in a conversation unless she wanted to.

He’s wrong about the extraction. It can be done without harming you.

J’nae knew Summer couldn’t ignore the statement. The fact she might be right infuriated the young woman even more.

Bullshit, Summer thought. He’s Panur. He created your sorry ass, and now you say he’s wrong.

Panur is indeed a genius, yet he has not experienced the extraction process in a very long time. I have. He is right, however, about my host dying. But what he doesn’t know is the Aris and I came very close to saving her. We tried; you must believe me. She was more a part of me than you can imagine. The essence is merely an idea, a concept. The host body is real, and it was my body.

But you were being pulled out of it, voluntarily. Wouldn’t that have left your precious host just some mindless slug after that even if she lived?

On the contrary. Panur mentioned how over time the hosts take on a life of their own. It was the same with mine. She would not have been a full person, but enough to experience life for a long time to come. But you are different. If I left, you would return to normal.

You’re saying now that it can be done, that you can be extracted? You said it wasn’t possible and Panur says I’ll die if we try.

With the information we had at the time, we were both right. But that was before Te’moc. I know how the extraction process works. I know that with my experience and Te’moc’s abilities, it can be done, and safely.

Summer fought to keep her inner thoughts her own. She still wasn’t convinced J’nae couldn’t read them anyway. How could she have any independent action, any privacy, if J’nae was in every corner of her mind? At that point, there would be no reason to go on.

Even if what you say is true, Panur would never allow me—us—to contact Te’moc. From what he says, the guy is really dangerous and possibly insane.

Summer felt a chuckle in her mind.

How well do you know Panur? I know him better than anyone. He has agendas. He’s smart enough to see that Te’moc and I could help you. But then he would lose his hold over you.

What hold? He doesn’t control me; you do.

But in light of this new information, we can do something about it.

Like what, steal a ship and go to Te’moc by ourselves?

As you said, Panur would not allow you to go. He wants to imprison you—us—here in the Aris station. That should tell you what this is really about.

What’s that?

It’s me. He wants to control me. And as long as I am trapped within your body, he can do that. But I don’t belong here; you sense that. I belong with my kind, back in the Sol-Kor universe, and far away from you and everyone you love. I can merge with Te’moc and return to my people.

I thought you didn’t want that, to be part of the Sol-Kor? You said they were using you, that your full potential was being smothered. Now you say you want to go back. Make up your fucking mind, you freak.

Whatever future I have with the Sol-Kor is still better than the two of us suffering a lifetime of misery… together. You may not be immortal, but because of my essence, you will live thousands of years longer than any Human before you. This dichotomy, this conflict you feel inside, it will go on for all that time. Is that what you want?

You know what I want. But I also don’t want to die. You’re asking me to trust you over Panur.

I am not. All I have said is Panur does not have all the facts about the risk you would be taking. He is operating on false assumptions.

Then we go to him and explain it.

That may work with regards to you, but not me. He will never let me return to the Sol-Kor. He will never allow an alliance between me and Te’moc. He is a shallow and vindictive being. His genius and his longevity have made him so. If this is to happen, we must do it alone.

My father…?

Not even he can come, at least not for the extraction procedure. But think, once you are free of me, you and Monty will have your lives back. And the sooner we find Te’moc, the sooner you can be reunited with your father.

Summer felt as if her mind was about to explode. She didn’t want to believe J’nae, but she made sense. Besides, what were her options? She didn’t believe Panur and Lila could help her, no matter what they were saying now. And if Summer was destined to spend an exceptionally long life continuously haunted by the presence of J’nae, then she didn’t want to live. She would find a way to end her life.

So what if she died during the extraction procedure? What would be the difference? One way or another, she would be free of J’nae.

We will have to steal one of the TD ships and jump back to the Milky Way, Summer stated.

It will have to be the Arya. The Sansa is too ingrained in the operations of the mutants and the Aris.

But I’ve only had a few lessons in piloting, and nothing about making trans-dimensional jumps.

A chuckle came again in Summer’s mind.

Worry not. Just give me command at the proper time, and I will take care of everything.

27

Preparations began for the team’s departure in the Arya. There would be five people aboard since Summer and Monty wouldn’t be leaving. At first, the mutants protested Summer’s father staying with his daughter. They pointed out he had no ‘utility’ as they called it. He said he’d mop the floors of the station if need be, to which Panur mentioned the Aris have robots for that. But Monty wouldn’t be deterred, and in the end, the mutants gave in.

Summer was against her father staying. She said it would be a waste of his time—and his life—and that she’d be fine with Lila. She didn’t include Panur in the equation. All this made for a tense week before the Arya was scheduled to leave the Aris station, cruise out a safe distance, and then jump back into the Milky Way.

During this time, Adam was having his own separation anxiety regarding Lila. He knew she would keep working on the problem of the rip in space, even if it took the full million years to find a solution. There was no doubt in his mind that when he left, he would never see his daughter again. It tore him up inside, as well as thinking how it would affect Arieel. He kept saying to himself that it was for a greater good and that she could end up saving the universe. It seemed like a small price to pay for his sacrifice.

But what was unexpected was his melancholy feeling toward Panur. He was going to miss the tiny grey mutant, even though he had trouble admitting it. They’d been through a lot together, and although their relationship often vacillated between enemies and allies, there had seldom been a dull moment. And for the adrenalin junky Adam seemed to be these days, that was a good thing.

* * *

The Sansa was moved from the hangar bay with the Arya and placed in another at the other side of the huge space station closer to the hub of the Aris operations. Cables were attached, and data began to be shared between systems. After the team returned to the Milky Way efforts would begin in earnest to find a solution to the crisis. It would become an around-the-clock affair at that point since immortals never slept.

The remaining seven Aris—not counting Kracion—had been working on a solution for a while now, as the other eight sacrificed their bodies to keep Armageddon at bay. But eventually, as the tear widened, even these seven would be enlisted in the losing battle, serving only to delay the inevitable. At that point, no one would be left to work on the problem. The universes would collide, at which point time would end for all that had been before.

But now that Panur and Lila were joining the fight, the Aris were encouraged. There weren’t a lot of immortal mutant geniuses around, and now two of the best were on the job. It gave the ancient creatures hope, something they had been in short supply since learning of Kracion’s horrific and unforgivable act at the Technician base.

Panur and Lila removed their small dimension hopper from the hold of the Sansa and with Nunki took a quick tour of the Aris facilities at the rip site. Adam and the others were fascinated at the video beamed back to the Sansa. It showed an innocuous quarter-light-year section of space glowing a soft blue. Adam was still in awe that such a tiny slice in the fabric of space-time could hold the potential for such destruction.

The Aris sentry posts were long tubes placed equal-distance along the tear. Inside each was a whole array of sophisticated equipment, and all focused on the box containing a single Aris. He was naked, his body splayed out, and his head tilted back, eyes closed. The space around the Aris sentry glowed blue, with a prominent central light radiating from the center of his chest. He didn’t appear to be in agony, but neither was he conscious. Instead, he was like a living circuit breaker, channeling inconceivable amounts of dark energy from one universe and back to another. It was an awesome sight, although no one viewing the videos back on the Sansa understood the technology except possibly J’nae, hidden within Summer’s body. Adam didn’t know if this was true or not; the entity had been strangely quiet over the past few days.

The mutants returned to the Aris station just as preparations for the Arya’s departure were being finalized. At Summer’s suggestion, a small going away party was organized on the Sansa. It was working out to be a solemn affair. Adam would never see Lila, Panur and Summer again; he was also teary-eyed about leaving the gruff old master chief, Monty Pitts. Lila and Summer were going through their own emotional roller coasters. But no one protested the party. It was just one of those rites of passage.

* * *

Adam checked his wristwatch. Yes, even in alien universes he still wore one. The passage of time needed to be tracked and schedules adhered to. He knew the going away party was just getting underway at the other side of the Aris station, yet he was still in the hangar bay with the Arya, lingering, reluctant to attend the melancholy celebration.

His comm unit chimed. He hesitated a moment before answering.

“Adam, are you coming?” asked Monty, no joy in his voice.

“Yeah; I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Good. And have you seen Summer? She’s not here, either.”

“I haven’t seen her. But I’m at the Arya; I’ll check inside, see if she’s there.”

Adam could sense the depression in Monty’s voice. He loved his daughter, and as such, was giving up his life in the Milky Way to stay with her. Adam also knew the big man was sick from the pain he was causing his daughter, knowing that her father was sacrificing everything for her. It was a shitty situation all around.

“Understood,” said Monty. “I’ll see the two of you in a while. Hurry. Can’t start the party without you.”

Through his ATD, Adam could tell the systems aboard the Arya were activated. This was unusual. The ship wouldn’t be leaving the station for another five or six hours.

He stepped inside the ship and headed for the bridge. Summer was there, sitting in the pilot seat, her back to him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked. “The party’s starting and you’re the guest of honor.”

Summer whipped around, glaring at him. But it wasn’t Summer. It was J’nae.

Then a sweet smile stretched across Summer’s face. “Oh, Adam, you surprised me,” she said. “I was just doing some pre-flight tests. I’ll be there in a minute. You go ahead.”

Adam wasn’t buying it. Even though J’nae was trying to convince him it was Summer speaking, the hard eyes of the evil entity couldn’t lie.

“Good try, J’nae,” Adam said. “But Summer wouldn’t know how to do pre-flight tests even if they were needed. What are you doing?”

J’nae stood up, facing Adam in a balanced fighting stance.

Adam smirked. “Really?” he said mockingly. “You’re going to fight—”

J’nae/Summer jumped, slamming her smallish body into Adam’s with unexpected force. He was thrown back against the bulkhead, hitting hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Summer’s face was contorted with rage, as strong arms pressed against Adam, holding him to the wall. He had a free arm; he lifted his fist. This wasn’t Summer he was about to hit, but the creature J’nae. He felt no remorse.

When he swung his arm, a vice-like clamp closed on his wrist, stopping his arm in motion.

“Shut up!” Summer’s voice screamed. “He is trying to stop us!”

Both the scream and his blocked hit caught Adam off guard. It took him only a moment to realize the danger J’nae posed. Although he was stronger than most Humans, that came about as a result of the residual effects of Panur’s melding with his body. Summer was completely under the influence of J’nae, a superbeing in her own right, with one hundred percent of her strength and abilities manifesting in the tiny Human female. Bottom line: she was a lot stronger than Adam.

This realization came to him just as J’nae head-butted his forehead. The blow was debilitating, nearly knocking Adam unconscious. His knees went weak, and a moment later he was upside down and being carried by the back of his clothing toward the exit hatch of the Arya. His mind swirled, seeking control of his body. By the time he regained any his coordination, it was too late.

J’nae tossed him out the hatch, phenomenal strength sending him twenty meters or more from the ship only to slide another twenty meters on the smooth surface of the hangar bay.

Through his foggy vision, he saw the hatch close.

Adam struggled to his hands and knees, knowing he was in no physical condition for a rematch with J’nae. So he sought out his ATD, hoping to enter the inner workings of the Arya and shut down the systems.

Then a strong rush of air swept over him. He looked around the huge landing bay, sensing security doors closing as lights began to flash. J’nae was dumping the air from the chamber, preparing for launch.

He took in a deep breath, knowing he had longer than normal before suffocating. But that was the least of his worries. If J’nae managed to lower the electrostatic wall which served as hangar doors aboard the Aris station, the cold of outer space would invade, freezing him instantly.

Through his ATD he scanned for control circuits for the hangar bay. But this was a station designed by the Aris, using Aris technology, not Formilian. His ATD was useless. He shifted his attention again to the Arya, but before he could locate any critical systems aboard the ship, the shimmering screen of electricity vanished.

The cold rushed in. Adam recoiled, watching as a white sheen covered the skin of his arms, knowing the same effect was sweeping across the rest of his body. He only needed a heartbeat to realize what an incredible amount of shit he was in before his consciousness slipped away.

28

A buzzer chimed on the Sansa, signifying an incoming call from the Aris. Panur was in the common room of the ship, surrounded by the rest of the team, minus Adam and Summer. Monty had told them that the pair would be along shortly; that they were just a little reluctant to make an appearance.

Nunki was on the comm.

“Panur, a development. Your second ship has just exited the station. It is currently on maximum chemical drive yet energizing the trans-dimensional system. Forgive me… but the vessel has transitioned.”

Lila was already on her way to the bridge, followed by a parade of others.

“What are they doing?” Riyad asked.

“I am still detecting Adam’s ATD,” Lila said as she activated a scope, hoping to get a track on the Arya. “He is still in the hangar bay.”

“But… but the hangar—” Sherri began.

“Is open to space,” Lila finished for her. “The device is drawing brain power. He is still alive, for the moment.”

Sherri was the first one out of the Sansa. It would take six minutes to reach the hangar bay.

* * *

Adam awoke, which a second later he realized was a miracle in itself. His eyes fluttered open. He was in a bed, in a compartment he recognized as one of the small staterooms aboard the TD starships.

I shouldn’t be alive.

There were others around him. In fact, the compartment was crowded with people, some of which stood in the corridor outside the room.

“He’s awake,” he heard Sherri say.

More bodies leaned in. Lila was there.

“How do you feel?”

Surprisingly, he felt fine. He pushed himself into a sitting position. “I’m okay. What happened?”

“That happened,” Riyad said, pointing at his exposed chest and arms.

Adam gasped at what he saw. There were huge flakes of greyish flesh curling up on his skin, looking dry and brittle.

Panur pushed his way next to Adam’s bed. “Apparently, your body reacted to the cold by creating a second layer of skin. It was this new layer that froze. It was a temporary fix, but it kept the rest of your body from freezing all the way through. Then with your increased ability to hold your breath, you also didn’t suffocate. We got to you in time to save your life. By the way, you’re welcome for all your special abilities.”

“And don’t worry,” Sherri said. “From what they say, all that second skin will eventually peel off, like after a bad sunburn.”

“And the Arya?”

“It has jumped back to the Milky Way,” Lila reported.

“It wasn’t Summer; it was J’nae.”

“Yes, and no,” Panur said.

“It wasn’t her fault!” Adam heard Monty say from out in the corridor.

“Indeed, she was under J’nae’s influence.”

“Summer tried to fight back,” Adam said. “I heard the conflict inside them—inside her. She just wants the damn thing out of her.”

“It doesn’t matter at this point,” Panur said. “The ship is gone.”

“And you can’t track it?”

“No. J’nae angled into the Milky Way at an unexpected degree. Since then, she will have surely jumped again, covering her tracks.”

“What’s she doing? She’s going to get Summer killed. I thought everyone agreed Te’moc would kill a Human during the extraction process.”

Adam frowned, studying the look of concern on the faces of the mutants.

“What’s wrong? You two look like you just swallowed a fly.”

“I’m afraid the situation is much worse than you realize,” Panur began softly.

“Worse than getting Summer killed?”

Panur nodded.

“Go on,” Adam prompted.

“Although we are concerned for Summer’s welfare, it is the fate of the Arya that concerns us most.”

“The ship?” said Monty. “You’re more concerned about your fucking ship than about my daughter?”

“We worry for both,” Panur corrected. “Yet our concerns are prioritized.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that before the Arya jumped, the computer systems between the two ships were slaved. All the data regarding the Aris and the anomaly is in both systems.”

“And that’s a problem, why?” Sherri said.

“Yes. Within the database of the Arya is the location of this base, as well as the sentry stations where the eight Aris are locked in place.”

“You’re losing us,” Adam said. “Why is that more important than Summer’s life?”

“Because if we can’t prevent J’nae from turning the Arya over to Te’moc, there will be no life left.” Panur took in a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t told you everything there is to know about Te’moc. Let me explain now the catastrophic consequences should he get hold of not only the Arya, but Summer as well, consequences not only for her but for the Aris, for me… and for the universe.”

* * *

“I’ve already described Te’moc’s unique nature. However, I have not told you how my use of him while creating J’nae turned tragic. First of all, Te’moc has a limited life essence of his own, yet as I used him to incubate and refine the essence of the various J’nae models, he would take on that identity, along with the related abilities. Then when an infusion occurred, he would lose all that awareness, you would call it, that identity. This had a profound effect on his personality. I also came to learn that during his long hibernation, his mind was still active and aware of the passage of time. Five thousand years passed, during which he felt punished for something he could not understand.

“When I resurrected him, he was a different Te’moc than before, yet I was so engrossed in my project to notice. However, I am not solely to blame. He hid his new emotions, even as he conspired against the Sol-Kor and me.”

“He fought you?” Sherri asked.

“Not directly, not at first. Instead, Te’moc began to retain a little of each batch of essence for himself. I didn’t notice at first, figuring only that the modifications were taking longer than I anticipated to metastasize. He became stronger, more intelligent, and more paranoid. And then at one point, when I had a working version of J’nae, he rebelled.”

“But you’re immortal,” Tidus pointed out. “He must have realized his effort would be futile.”

Panur grimaced. “Normally, that would be true. But Te’moc has the unique ability to strip away essence-born immortality.”

“What’s that?” Copernicus asked.

“Just as it sounds. Since he can extract the essence from living organisms, that also includes the ability to be immortal.” Panur looked to a sad-faced Lila. “The only immortal immune to his power is Lila. She’s a natural-born immortal, the only one of her kind. The rest of us—the Aris and myself—our immortality comes from the essence we carry in our bodies. We are vulnerable to Te’moc. An analogy would be he is our kryptonite.”

“You’re leading up to something,” Adam said. “I know you too well.”

“Better than you realize,” Panur answered cryptically. “But yes I am. You asked why J’nae would help Summer steal the Arya? It is because she knows that she will have a more willing partner in Te’moc than she does with Summer. And I was serious when I told Summer not to consider an extraction. Her Human body would not survive. But just as J’nae did with her last host, she won’t care.”

“It will kill her?” Monty barked.

“That is what I’m saying. And once he has that first portion of J’nae, the two of them will seek out the rest. I can destroy the vials I have, but that will only slow him down. If he extracts the essence from the Aris, he’ll be able to synthesize more over time, boosting his supply until both he and J’nae are more powerful than anything you have encountered to date. And if by chance he is able to absorb my essence, even I cannot contemplate the variables.

“You see, during the process of creating J’nae, Te’moc and her developed a very close relationship. They considered themselves brother and sister, if not more. They were a single entity divided in two. By the time the final conflict arrived, I had begun to sense the dynamic. I was able to stop Te’moc by segmenting his body. With J’nae, I imprisoned her, restraining her powers until the time came to use her as the new Queen. Both instances were not welcomed by the parties involved. ”

Adam sighed and shook his head. “I can imagine. So we could have another mad superbeing screwing things up, possibly two. That’s just great.”

“Yet it goes far beyond simply vindictive behavior, Adam. Unlike Kracion—who had designs on ruling the galaxy as a god—there is a very real possibility Te’moc’s and J’nae’s efforts could contribute to the eventual destruction of the universe.”

“You’re thinking they would come after the essence in the Aris, even knowing what they’re doing to save the universe?” Riyad asked. “That would be stupid.”

“Te’moc will attempt to collect as much of the essence as possible, allowing both he and J’nae to acquire more power. It will not be for external goals, but for self-fulfillment. And knowing there is a ready supply of essence in the eight sentry Aris to boost his powers, they will come for them. These Aris are unable to move from their stations and will be easy prey. And with the Arya, they will have the necessary data required to find them, as well as the means to travel between dimensions.”

“Doesn’t Te’moc already have TD capabilities?” Copernicus asked.

“Not starships. The Sol-Kor have either rebuilt the larger portals, or he came to the Milky Way through a lost personal transport. They’ve never had ships such as the Aris and I have built. The Arya will give him that ability.”

“But he’ll know he’s destroying the universe if he takes away the immortality of the Aris.”

“He will not care. He and J’nae can always return to the Sol-Kor universe and be immune to anything that happens in these two dimensions. And together they could rule the Sol-Kor, and never relinquish that role even as the Sol-Kor evolve to a new lifeform.”

“Even if he screws with the Aris, there’s still a million years before anything happens,” Copernicus said. “That will give you time to work on a fix.”

“I don’t think you fully grasp what I meant earlier, Mr. Smith,” Panur said. “The million-year figure is only if the Aris maintain their vigil. If they are removed from the line, the tear will become progressively worse. At which point your estimate of a week before complete blowout would not be far off.”

“Well, hell,” Adam sighed. He knew what was coming. It always came down to this. “So how do we stop them? Obviously, you and the Aris can’t get close to this Te’moc dude. Is there anything mere mortals can do against Te’moc that immortal geniuses can’t?”

“Yes, there is. Te’moc’s ability to fuse with another will have no effect on your kind; there is no essence within you to be removed. However, your challenge will be two-fold and crucial. First of all, you must stop J’nae from merging with him. If that happens, their powers will be multiplied, making them harder to defeat. Summer will be fighting the corrupting influence of J’nae during this time. We can only hope she’s strong enough to resist. But she will be susceptible to more of her lies. But even more critical, you must keep Te’moc from acquiring the Arya and all its capabilities. If he can transit universes at will, we are all in danger. Take the Sansa, Adam. But hurry. Summer is already back in the Milky Way; Te’moc can find her now. There is not much time.”

Riyad glanced at his wristwatch before looking at Adam with his trademark white smile. “Well, it is Tuesday.”

Adam nodded. “That it is, my friend.”

Tidus frowned. “I do not see the significance of the date.”

Adam cocked his head, looking up from his bed at the tall Juirean. “If you’re going to be part of the main cast then you’re going to have to get with the program. It’s Tuesday. We always save the universe on Tuesday.”

The Continuation…

of

The Human Chronicles Saga

The next episode

Terminus Rising

coming in late June 2019

Author Notes and FREE BOOK OFFER

Wow! Another installment of The Human Chronicles Saga is complete. Phantoms is the 27th book in the series, which is almost unheard of in the history of science fiction series. It’s longevity is a testament to the loyalty of my readers. I appreciate all of you more than you can know. Especially you!

Phantoms is the beginning of a new story arc, with a projected four books in the series-within-a-series. It’s funny, how after so many books in the series, the universe of The Human Chronicles has become so large now that old friends and enemies keep showing up, while new characters and situations present themselves constantly. Writing an Adam Cain novel is like visiting an old friend. It’s just comfortable, familiar … and fun!

The next book in the series – Terminus Rising – will be out at the end of June 2019, with another novel following just about every month after that, if I can keep up the pace. But after 35 novels, writing these things is a habit by now. So stick with me. There’s more to come.

And other news…

If you don’t know already, I have started a new Facebook Fan Page, appropriately titled:

Fans of T.R. Harris and The Human Chronicles Saga.

(FYI: I was the first person to sign up. After all, I’m a big fan of, well…me.)

In all seriousness, I invite all my readers to join (it’s a private group). I try to post there every day (when I’m not under a deadline). It’s a fun group where my fans and I can interact more frequently. I try to give insights into my books, the characters and the process, as well as the writing business as a whole. We have some real characters over there, and I’m proud to call many of the members friends, as well as fans.

You should check the group. And by the way…it’s FREE!

EMAIL SIGN-UP

I also want to remind you to sign up for my email list, if you haven’t already. It’s free, and just for signing up, I’m giving away three of my books…

The THREE FREE BOOKS are the first two in my Jason King: Agent to the Stars series, as well as Captains Malicious, a novel co-authored with my friend George Wier.

These aren’t in either my Human Chronicles or REV Warriors series, but I’m sure you’re enjoy the stories, the humor and action that come with all my novels.

Just click on the sign-up form in either the front or back of all my novels.

In the meantime, what’s next for Adam Cain?

Obviously, Adam and his team are returning to the Milky Way in search of the evil superbeing Te’moc and his accomplice, J’nae. In the balance hangs the life of young Summer Rains … as well as the fate of two universes, ours included.

Yes, the challenges just keep getting bigger. For planets, then galaxies and now universes. What’s next? I don’t know, but I’ll think of something!

Oh, and About the REV Warriors Series…

Yes, that, too. The first book in the series, REV: Retribution, is in the works, detailing how the war with the Antaere has taken an unexpected turn with the Human race on the brink of extinction. Unless, of course, this new breed of Human—the REVs—can save the day once more. The series is building momentum. Hopefully, you’ll be amazed by what comes next.

Thanks again for reading Phantoms and for being a loyal reader throughout the years. As I say, as long as you continue to read my books, I’ll continue to write them.

T.R. (Tom) Harris

May 2019

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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

The Lost Universe

The Immortal War

Destroyer of Worlds

Phantoms

Terminus Rising

The Human Chronicles Box Set Series

Box Set #1 – Books 1-5 in the series

Box Set #2 – Books 6-10 in the series

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

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

REV Warriors Series

REV

REV: Renegades

REV: Rebirth

REV: Revolution

REV: Retribution (coming soon)

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 FREE to members of Kindle Unlimited.