The Quantum Enigma

The Adam Cain Saga Book 8

T.R. Harris

Set in The Human Chronicles Universe

THC

Tom Harris Creations

Copyright 2020

by Tom Harris Creations, LLC

All rights reserved.*

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Novels by T.R. Harris

The Adam Cain Saga

The Dead Worlds

Empires

Battle Plan

Galactic Vortex

Dark Energy

Universal Law

The Formation Code

The Quantum Enigma

Children of the Aris

The Human Chronicles

The Fringe Worlds

Alien Assassin

The War of Pawns

The Tactics of Revenge

The Legend of Earth

Cain’s Crusaders

The Apex Predator

A Galaxy to Conquer

The Masters of War

Prelude to War

The Unreachable Stars

When Earth Reigned Supreme

A Clash of Aliens

Battlelines

The Copernicus Deception

Scorched Earth

Alien Games

The Cain Legacy

The Andromeda Mission

Last Species Standing

Invasion Force

Force of Gravity

Mission Critical

The Lost Universe

The Immortal War

Destroyer of Worlds

Phantoms

Terminus Rising

The Last Aris

The Human Chronicles Box Set Series

Box Set #1 – Books 1-5 in the series

Box Set #2 – Books 6-10 in the series

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

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

Box Set #5—Books 21-25 in the series

REV Warriors Series

Rev

REV: Renegades

REV: Rebirth

REV: Revolution

REV: Retribution

REV: Revelations (coming soon)

REV Warriors Box Set #1 – Books 1-3 in the series

Jason King – Agent to the Stars Series

The Enclaves of Sylox

Treasure of the Galactic Lights

The Drone Wars Series

Day of the Drone

In collaboration with Co-Author George Wier…

The Liberation Series

Captains Malicious

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

Contents

The alien with an attitude is back!

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

Children of the Aris

Author Notes

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Novels by T.R. Harris

The alien with an attitude is back!

The Adam Cain Saga Continues

Adam Cain and friends are back!

Let the adventure begin!

Chapter 1

Adam Cain sat in the passenger seat of the armored personnel carrier as welcoming heat blasted from vents in the dashboard. The terrain outside looked like the worst version of Hell, a frozen wasteland of mushy tundra and bitter, wind-swept cold on a planet already classified as a Dead World. Adam was often amazed at what some people fought and died over. Granted, the rest of the planet wasn’t as bad as this—not much. However, Korash-Nor would never be confused for paradise. But for some, it was home; for others, their last stop. And that was the reason for the one-sided battle taking place in the valley below.

Fortunately for Adam, the APC was buttoned up, toasty and warm, segregated from the reality of the carnage taking place a few miles away. The vehicle was painted in the bright blue of the Enforcer Corp, with a stylized logo emblazoned on the roof. Adam and his organization had yet to pick sides in the conflict, so for now, his two-vehicle convoy was a neutral third party, only observers, with no dog in the race.

He lifted the binoculars again and scanned the battlefield. It wasn’t going well for the natives. It wasn’t a large unit; only about thirty or so, escorting cargo of some kind in a six-truck caravan. The mercenaries caught them by surprise in the lowland, coming in from the south with troops and half a dozen hovercraft gunships. The force sent against the natives was overwhelming; the battle a foregone conclusion.

The reality of the situation made him feel guilty, sitting here while not lifting a hand to help the over-matched natives. But he was here to observe, not to take part in the fighting. But considering the level of brutality he saw being committed by the former MK-employees, Adam thought it was about time for a change to his neutrality position.

But that wasn’t the only reason Adam was on the planet. He was also here for his mental health. Through the haze of explosions and the steady beat of faraway bolt launchers, even the proximity of action beat shuffling reports across his desk on Navarus, which was what Adam did most of the time these days. For a person such as him, that was a fate worse than death. And although he was far from the shit downrange, the atmosphere of battle was better than nothing at all.

The pressure of his job as the Top Cop in the Dead Zone—and now the head of the default paramilitary force across a hundred worlds—was more than he’d bargained for. He wasn’t built for management. He was a soldier at heart, a fighter rather than a strategist or politician. Besides that, he was having withdrawals. Two years had passed since Adam last killed an alien. In fact, the last person he killed wasn’t even an alien. It was another Human: Wolfgang Stimmel, the former Regional Director for the gigantic Maris-Kliss organization.

Adam smiled. He’d never seen a person consumed by a miniature blackhole before. It was impressive, both in its effect and its finality. There was no coming back from that. And what made it even more satisfying was the fact that Stimmel suffered his fate because he’d stolen Adam’s hybrid Artificial Telepathy Device—his ATD—and installed it into his body. The Formilians built the device not only to interact with Adam’s brainwaves but also to absorb a limited number of energy bolts, venting the power through a microscopic blackhole deep within its circuits. Stimmel didn’t know the absorption rate was limited, thinking he was immune to flash weapons. He found out the hard way that that wasn’t the case.

Better him than me, Adam thought.

And now another two years had gone by since that fateful day at the ancient Aris base. And what a two years it had been.

First of all, politics in the Dead Zone had shifted dramatically. After Stimmel’s death, the true extent of his plans for galactic domination using the stolen Dark Matter Collectors came to light, causing the huge MK conglomerate to distance itself even farther from both the Director and the Zone. Although Stimmel’s two DMCs hadn’t been found yet, his organization was no longer considered a threat. That left the twenty-six worlds he quasi owned in the Zone without status, stranding the three million employees and nine hundred thousand mercenaries on these planets without his protection. The workers and security troops had spent the prior three years striving to bring the infrastructure on the worlds up to code, and now their efforts were in vain.

The situation grew worse for the former MK employees when officials in the Zone passed a decree giving legal ownership of the Dead Worlds back to the natives. The order applied to Stimmel’s planets, as well. But in a strange twist of fate, the powers-that-be allowed the MK personnel to remain, giving them the status as Provisional Citizens, or PCs. That didn’t make the situation better, only worse.

When the millions of refugees flowed back to their homeworlds, Stimmel’s worlds were already occupied by a determined and highly-skilled population who felt entitled to their piece of the pie. And rather than join together for the common good, natives and PCs immediately faced off for domination of the planets.

The PCs felt they had too much time and labor invested in the rebuilding of the worlds to let the returning natives push them aside. They also had a highly-trained security force for protection, which also had a vested interest in keeping what they now considered to be theirs.

The refugees, on the other hand, were far less skilled and with fewer resources. After Kracion’s pass through the region over ten years before, most of the wealthy, privileged and skilled took what they could and disappeared into the vastness of the Expansion, and to a lesser degree, the Orion-Cygnus Union. And although these natives now had official ownership of their homeworlds, few were willing to give up their comfortable lives of wealth and privilege on the more sophisticated worlds in the galaxy to return to the barely habitable planets of their birth. The Dead Worlds were still decades away from returning to any semblance of normalcy. Although the air was clear of radiation, the land was still recovering, as were the oceans and waterways. Entire ecosystems had to be rebuilt, including insects for pollination and bacteria for nutrient recovery, along with all the other varieties of life that depended on one another for food.

Besides, most anything of value in the major cities had already been stripped away by salvagers, leaving critical infrastructure beyond repair and requiring a complete overhaul. Entire industries had to be rebuilt or reintroduced, which required money and skill that the returning refugees lacked. That was what the PCs had been working on for the past three years.

The natives, on the other hand, had been the common laborers, the stewards, the minor merchants, and ship’s crews who were off-planet at the time of Kracion’s attack. Their hearts were in the right place, but not the means to revive their ravaged worlds. Yet still they came, simply because they had nowhere else to go.

The situation was bad enough on the majority of worlds that hadn’t been under Stimmel’s control; there wasn’t a resident population that had to be either accommodated or evicted. It was infinitely worse on the former MK worlds.

Although the returning refugees had the law on their side—and they outnumbered the MK personnel ten to one—they were no match for the expertise of the MK technicians or the power of the mercenaries. The PCs were well entrenched, and having been abandoned by MK and their supporters, these castoffs had nowhere else to go. And they weren’t about to leave without a fight.

And that’s where Adam Cain came in.

He sighed deeply as the thoughts passed through his mind. His life had changed considerably in the past two years, and none of it to his liking.

After the Stimmel debacle, both the Union and the Expansion backed off from attempting overt control of the Dead Zone. Instead, they proposed that Adam’s Enforcer Corps become the new military in the region. For his part, Adam had very little say in the decision making. With both empires unified in this cause, there was nothing he could do to stop it. And with new wars starting almost monthly, something had to be done.

The Enforcers took over Camp Forrester south of Balamar and expanded it ten-fold. Then with military recruiters and trainers from across the galaxy, thousands of personnel flooded onto Navarus to become part of the new paramilitary force. Soon Adam’s small, mostly planetary police force numbered sixty thousand, and to support such a population, both the Expansion and Union donated the equipment and material required to operate such a large organization. The Enforcers wanted for nothing; everything was provided. The logic was simple: The empires would let the Enforcers do the fighting until the Zone was pacified. And then the chits would be called in.

Adam remained at the top of the Enforcer hierarchy, but instead of referring to him as Marshal Cain, his Human buddies began facetiously calling him Field Marshal Cain. He didn’t think it was funny, and if it weren’t for the fact that the governments were throwing so much money at him to remain the head of the Enforcers, he would have quit long ago.

The mission of his Enforcers was also convoluted. They were tasked with maintaining peace in the Dead Zone, but what exactly did that mean? At present, major wars were taking place on nineteen worlds, with another thirty-two enmeshed in deadly terrorist conflicts and mass murder on a horrendous scale. And never was there a clear enemy. Adam couldn’t very well send in his troops to smash one side of the conflict when both sides had standing. His Enforcers ended up being more referee than a participant in the wars. That did neither party any good, resulting in wholesale slaughter and tens of thousands of deaths. And the Dead Worlds didn’t have the population to spare. Each person who died in a battle was an essential cog in the wheel, vital to the eventual recovery of the planets.

That didn’t matter. No one was thinking rationally nor compassionately.

* * *

A particularly powerful rocket landed a mile or so from the APC, shaking Adam from his reverie. The valley below was shrouded in a thick blanket of black smoke, held down by the cold, dense air of the frozen wasteland.

Is this place really worth dying for? Adam thought for the hundredth time.

None of the Dead Worlds had populations larger than two million, including natives and PCs. That meant that each person could, for all practical purposes, claim a city, town or hamlet for their own, with plenty left over. There was no need to fight over what other people had. But that wasn’t the case. Everyone seemed to gravitate to the five or six major cities on each of the planets, the ones that MK and Stimmel had made the most progress in reclaiming. It made sense, Adam snorted. But by the time the battles were over, most of the cherished communities would be nothing but burned out wastelands, worse than any of the thousands of surrounding communities. It didn’t make sense that the warring parties would waste so many lives fighting over a tiny fraction of the planets they both called home. There was plenty of room for everyone.

The driver’s side door to the APC suddenly flew open, letting out a fair amount of the precious heat while sending in a wave of frigid air into the cab. Adam wasn’t wearing a coat or even a thicker version of his Enforcer uniform. He’d been either in a shuttle or a heated APC all day and hadn’t seen the need to get bundled up.

“Dammit, Peanut, you’re letting all the heat out.”

Gill “Peanut” Norris was being consumed by a bulky overcoat with a fur collar. Even still, he looked to be half-frozen.

“Sorry, boss, but we got problems.”

Peanut was a former Navy SEAL from Adam’s old Team back on Earth. He now carried the rank of Colonel in the Enforcers, one of Adam’s command staff officers.

“The natives have surrendered,” Peanut continued.

“That was expected. Why is that a problem?”

“The PCs ordered them to drop their weapons, and then promptly opened up on them. They’re slaughtering them in cold blood.”

“Shit!”

Adam leaned forward and snatched the comm unit from its holder on the dashboard. “Get me the PC commander on a link.” He activated a datapad, which would give him video conferencing. A moment later, a grey-skinned alien came on the screen.

“This is Adam Cain, head of the Enforcers. We’re at an observation post north of your engagement area. I have reports that you’re slaughtering native prisoners of war. Is this correct? If so, then you are to cease such action immediately!”

The alien blinked several times, overwhelmed by the intensity of Adam’s demands. Then the creature looked off to the side, to someone who was speaking to him. The alien nodded and then stepped aside. Another person took his place. To Adam’s shock, it was a Human. The middle-aged man with a buzzcut haircut and longish red beard had a sly grin on his tanned face along with laughing brown eyes that seemed out of place under the current situation.

“Who are you?” Adam demanded.

“I’m John Graham, the acting commander of the PC security force. And you are the famous Adam Cain.” The man had a distinctive Scottish accent.

“I’m told you’re killing natives who have already surrendered, murdering them in cold blood.”

“The enemy dies in battle; that’s hardly murder.”

“It is after they’ve laid down their weapons and surrendered.”

“A technicality, Mr. Cain.”

“I don’t care what you call it. I order you to stop immediately.”

Graham frowned. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see anywhere in my charter that I work for you. You can’t give me orders.”

“I can … if you don’t want the full force of the Enforcers down on your head. We haven’t taken sides in this conflict yet, but that’s about to change.”

“Relax, Cain. This will all be over in a few minutes. You see, the natives in question took something from me. I’m simply retrieving my property.”

“Then take it and let the prisoners go.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. But as I said, don’t worry. Once I have my package, I’m leaving this godforsaken planet. You and the damn natives can have it. After you killed my friend and benefactor, Wolfgang Stimmel, there’s not much left to keep me here.”

Peanut caught Adam’s attention, having just gotten off his ear comm. “A shuttle’s on the way down. ETA, ten minutes.”

“I heard that,” said Graham. He grimaced. “Unfortunately, I can’t allow the shuttle to land. You see, my little operation here is off the books, and the fewer people who know about it, the better.”

“I know about it,” Adam countered.

“Yeah, but not for much longer.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Adam gasped. “I’m the head of the Enforcers.”

“That you are. But, you see, I checked with the Garrison. They have no record of you being on Korash-Nor, and unfortunately for you, the natives have begun disguising some of their units as Enforcer peacekeepers to keep their vehicles from being attacked. And since we checked, all we can assume is that you are one of those fake units.”

Adam bit his bottom lip. In his haste, he didn’t check in with the Enforcer Garrison on Korash-Nor. All he wanted to do was drop down to the surface for a few hours and take in the smell of battle once again. Graham was right. No one on the surface knew he was here.

And that was when the missile struck the APC.

Chapter 2

Fortunately, the armored vehicle was of Human design with a reinforced undercarriage to protect against IEDs. The missile came in low and struck the ground just under the rear bumper, sending the APC flipping into the air. Adam wasn’t belted in and was thrown first against the back of his seat and then the windshield. His forehead hit the padded dashboard, nearly knocking him out. He went limp, which helped him survive the tumbling as he bounced around the interior of the vehicle. The APC landed on its roof. It was built strong enough that the cab didn’t collapse, leaving Adam battered inside but not crushed.

He looked over at Peanut. His friend’s face was in agony, but he was alive.

“Are you okay?” Adam asked.

“Arm’s broken; this sucks. What’s wrong with that guy? There’s going to be hell to pay for this.”

“I don’t think he’s done. He has gunships in the area; that’s where the missile came from.”

No sooner had Adam spoke the words than another powerful explosion rocked the area. He’d come with two APCs, and it looked as though both were now out of commission.

“Can you get out through the window?” he asked Peanut.

“Yeah, I think so. Let’s hurry. More missiles will be coming our way.”

A moment later, Adam had Peanut’s left arm hitched over his shoulder and was helping him to cover in a low depression in the hillside. Tim Robertson was there, along with three of the surviving alien Enforcers, all members of Adam’s escort team. He’s started with twelve. Tim handed Adam a BAR, one of the big-ass super rifles exclusive to the Enforcers.

“Troops behind us, down the hill,” Tim reported. He was another former SEAL, an aging warrior who had seen better days. Now his decades of combat experience were kicking in. “We control the high ground, and we have the BARs. The shuttle’s on final approach—”

Another missile streaked in and hit Adam’s APC, this time striking it directly and blasting it into an unrecognizable hunk of twisted metal.

“Why are they shooting at us?” Tim asked. “Don’t they know who we are?”

“They do,” Adam answered. “That’s why they’re working so hard to take us out.”

“We can hold off the ground troops until the shuttle arrives, but it’s that god damn gunship that’s the problem. The shuttle can’t land with that thing hovering nearby.”

Adam rolled over on the frigid ground and looked over at the gunship about half-a-mile away and five hundred feet off the ground.

“All right, form a defensive line against the troops,” Adam said to his Human friends. “They’re coming up the hill and should be within range in a couple of minutes. Let me see what I can do about the gunship.”

“You mean by using your brain-linking-device-thingy?” Tim asked.

“That’s right, now let me concentrate.”

Only a few Humans in the Enforcer Corps knew of his ATD besides Adam’s inner corps of long-time friends and associates. Tim and Peanut were two of them, although they professed not to understand how it worked or knew of its full potential. The device could detect and then link with a multitude of electronic devices, even going so far as manipulating the controls remotely. Adam’s mutant friends, Panur and Lila, built his latest ATD, and it had all the bells and whistles. The gunship was well within range of the device.

It wasn’t hard to locate the massive energy signal coming from the gunship. Once connected with the ATD, the image of the hovercraft glowed in Adam’s mind from a plethora of electronic signatures. The problem was he had too many options. Finding which energy lines would produce the most damage to the aircraft was the challenge. He decided to trace down the power controls for the rotors. The hovercraft had four of them, two on each side. The enclosed blades could rotate forward or backward, and speed controlled the altitude.

The gunship continued to spit rockets at Adam and his small entourage as precious minutes were spent tracing the hovercraft’s control circuits. Finally, Adam had them located. He concentrated on the portside rotors, and once he had a firm lock on the junction boxes to the power units, he shut down the motors.

The effect was dramatic and immediate. With the portside rotors off, the craft pitched sharply to the left, while the starboard rotors whipped the body up and sideways, placing the gunship into a wild, corkscrew-like spiral. With no sustaining lift, the ship barreled into the ground a few seconds later, catching the troops below it unaware. A roiling bloom of flame and smoke rose up from the ground. Adam did a quick survey of the energy signals from the variety of weapons the PC mercs carried, those who were being covered by the airship. There were few still registering.

That still left the second group of PCs coming up the hill from the west.

“There it is!” Tim shouted, pointing into the air above the smoky valley.

Adam noticed the glint of sunlight off the metal hull of the shuttle and saw the craft approaching at incredible speed. The pilot was good—very good—and leveled out only moments before touching down, the rear loading ramp already down and locked.

Yellow flash bolts began to fill the air around Adam and his troops, coming from down the hill. Blue bolts from the Enforcer’s BARs answered the attackers, but even then, the PCs had over four times as many fighters as did Adam.

“Peanut! Get everyone on board. Tim and I will provide cover. Now, go!”

Peanut was off a moment later, cradling his broken arm as he ran while barking orders at the variety of aliens that made up the Enforcer Corps. He positioned himself at the open doorway to the shuttle bay, firing with his BAR one-handed at the quickly approaching mercenaries.

Adam patted Tim on the shoulder. “Go; I’m right behind you.”

Tim took off, with Adam only a heartbeat behind.

Adam scampered up the ramp, welcoming the thud of his footfalls on the hard metal surface of the loading ramp. His gaze met Peanut’s, and the ginger-haired former SEAL turned and yelled into the cockpit, “Liftoff, emergency procedures!”

The experienced pilot didn’t have to be told. He gunned the spacecraft and shot off over the frozen landscape before angling up sharply, heading for space.

Adam staggered back from where he stood, at the inner boundary of the loading ramp, still cradling the BAR. Just then, the pilot made a radical shift to port to avoid an incoming missile.

Adam lost his balance, dropping the BAR before tumbling head over heels for the back of the shuttle and the still open loading ramp. At the last second, his desperate right hand gripped the bottom locking rail to the ramp and held on, while the rest of his body dangled out the back of the shuttle. The craft was still rocketing for space, using full thrust to avoid the enemy missiles. The ramp was also closing under emergency procedures with no override. The entire closing procedure would take three seconds.

With his hand about to be sliced off, Adam had no option other than to let go, freefalling backward through the cold air, five thousand feet above the surface of Korash-Nor.

Chapter 3

Of course, five thousand feet was only a guess, but Adam had enough experience with HALO jumps with the SEALs to have a pretty good idea. He extended his arms to stabilize himself and saw the shuttle suddenly slow and begin a wide turn.

What were they hoping to do, catch him in mid-air? That was crazy.

Another missile shot past the shuttle, missing it by only feet. A split-second decision was made. Adam Cain was gone; there was nothing left to do but save the rest of the team and bolt for orbit.

Relieved that the people aboard the shuttle would survive, Adam returned his focus on his current predicament. He’d already reached terminal velocity, and from his training, he knew he only had about thirty seconds before impacting the ground. He had a little longer in the lighter gravity of Korash-Nor, but that time was wasted by realizing he had extra time.

Adam didn’t panic, knowing he could use his ATD to conjure up a static electricity field to compress the atmosphere into what he called a magic carpet and then ride it safely to the ground. The problem was he was nearly frozen in the sub-zero air and was having trouble concentrating. Creating a field of static electricity strong enough to compress air to several thousand times normal pressure took complete concentration and a Herculean effort. That was under normal conditions, and not while falling at two hundred miles per hour while quickly turning into an icicle.

He closed his eyes to concentrate, but that didn’t help. All that did was make his heart race, not knowing how close he was to the ground. He opened his eyes again, feeling the tears begin to freeze as he fell.

Desperate people can do heroic feats when required. Eventually, Adam began to see the sparkling lights forming below him from the accumulation of static electricity drawn in by his ATD. The lights gave him hope. He could now feel a denser patch of warm air on his face and body. He was slowing down, although the ground was still rushing to meet him as if the scene were a video set on fast forward.

As they say, it’s not the fall that kills you, but rather, the sudden stop. For Adam, the stop was sudden, but not fatal. His air cushion formed just in time to soften the fall. He landed on the semi-frozen ground with a thud and a splash. The air was knocked out of his lungs, and he began to slip into unconsciousness. If it weren’t for his face sinking into a shallow pool of icy water, he would have passed out.

He lumbered to his feet, glad to be alive. But that only lasted a second.

There was a steady north wind blowing, not strong, but at the current temperature, wind chill was a factor. He was standing in sub-zero weather and soaking wet from the icy tundra. A body lost heat twenty-five times faster when wet, and his training told him hypothermia would set in within minutes.

Adam staggered out of the Human-shaped depression in the frozen ground to find drier ground. He then quickly set about conjuring up another static electricity ball, just a basic concentration of crackling light and heat. He had to get dry, or else he’d be unconscious in a matter of minutes and dead soon after.

The warmth was invigorating, if wanting. Adam had to constantly turn around to keep half of his body from freezing again. He was shivering uncontrollably, and although hypothermia was his major concern, he also had to think about frostbite. His shoes were soaked, and his hands purple and numb. He placed his hands as close as he could to the soothing warmth of the sparkling ball before willing the heat source to move lower, closer to his feet.

It took twenty minutes before Adam felt reasonably warm and dry. He looked out across the desolate plain of rolling, barren hills and low valleys. The smoke from the recent battle was about five miles away to the west. He scanned the region with his eyes and ATD and found no trace of the gunships. Graham and his troops had withdrawn, probably on a desperate race to get off the planet before Adam—or his people—could report what happened. That was fine. Let the rat scurry. He wouldn’t get far, not in the Zone. There weren’t a lot of places he could go.

Adam then took a personal inventory. He had no comm unit or weapon, and he was dressed in only a thin Enforcer uniform and combat boots. He had no food, and the only source of heat was his static electricity balls.

The other concern was that the Enforcer Garrison was over two hundred miles away, ostensibly to the east, from what he could remember. He’d never been there before, which he now realized was a mistake and a break in protocol. None of this would have happened if he’d checked in with them first.

The good news was Adam had a means of transportation: his magic carpet of compressed air. The bad news is he couldn’t create a heating ball and a platform at the same time. It was one or the other, not both. And traveling through the frigid air of Korash-Nor would be deadly. Although the magic carpet produced a little heat, it was not enough to sustain him for a journey of two hundred miles. Not only that, but he’d never attempted to maintain a cushion for as long as it would take to make the journey. He would need frequent stops to rest his mind and warm up.

Adam looked at the setting sun to the west. He had no option other than to try. Waiting in one spot until morning with a static electricity ball to keep him warm wasn’t an option. He could only keep the ball intact while awake, and falling asleep would be the end of him. He would never wake up.

And to top it all, no one would be looking for him. To Peanut, Tim and the others, he was nothing more than a bloody puddle of smashed flesh on the tundra of Korash-Nor. There wouldn’t even be enough left of him to bury.

* * *

Reluctantly, Adam focused his concentration on forming another cushion of air. He made this one wide enough so he could lay on it rather than stand. That would cut down on his exposure to the wind. He lifted off and steered a path toward the east, in the opposite direction of the setting sun.

Initially, he set off at a pretty good pace, skimming barely a hundred feet off the frozen landscape. He could tolerate this for only a few minutes before having to slow down to keep his head and hands from freezing. Ten minutes into his journey, he had to land again and create a sparkling ball of energy to warm up. He estimated he’d only covered about five miles, maybe more.

As he thawed, he began to think about how he would locate the Garrison. He knew the general location, but not the specifics. But he had an idea.

The Enforcers at the base were armed with BARs, as were a lot of his troops. The weapons were of a unique construction and energy signal that Adam could detect with his ATD—if they were within range. The rifles came from the Dead World of Hax’on, and there were twenty thousand of them initially. As the story went, pirates absconded with the huge cache, and they were not seen again for almost four years. When Adam’s Enforcer Corps formed, five hundred of the weapons mysteriously appeared and were given to the police force.

From the beginning, Adam suspected the Kanac kingpin Dal Divisen was behind the original theft of the rifles, although it was never proven. But then six months ago, Dal approached the government, saying he was acting as a broker for a group of Zone pirates who now wanted to sell the weapons to the Enforcers. The Union and Expansion thought nothing of the implications and agreed to the purchase, although five hundred of the superweapons were not part of the contract. After that, a few of the rifles began turning up on battlefields across the Zone, either part of the lost five hundred, or those stolen from the Enforcer inventory.

If Adam could detect a concentration of the unique power signals, that would lead him to the Garrison—and salvation.

This raised another issue. His ATD had limited range while on the ground, having to deal with hills, mountains and other obstructions. The effective range was only about five miles under these conditions. But higher up, Adam could scan for a hundred miles; however, that would require him to reach the frigid reaches of the upper atmosphere. He was already on the verge of hypothermia. Besides that, he couldn’t scan for the weapons and maintain the magic carpet at the same time. He would have to dissolve the platform and then freefall while he performed the scan, and then hope he could reengage the cushion before he hit the ground.

Adam winced. He hated it when his mind recited the fateful words: You have no choice. It was fatalistic. But in this case—as the thought reached his consciousness—he was right. If he ever hoped to reach the Garrison, he would have to risk it.

* * *

Adam huddled near the flickering light, absorbing all the heat he could. He had to stand because the ground was frozen. The Korash-Nor sun was beginning to set, which meant he would make the majority of the journey in the cold of night.

Firming his resolve, Adam dissolved the static ball and created another magic carpet of air. He climbed on board and then set off, going much slower this time while bunching the top of his Enforcer uniform on his head and sticking his bare hands inside. As the cold permeated his body and mind, Adam had trouble focusing. More than once, he tumbled to the ground as the platform disintegrated unexpectedly. He wasn’t too high nor going that fast for the falls to cause damage, and the jostling helped to snap him back to reality.

He wore a watch and had checked the time of his departure on the hunt for the Garrison. He had to estimate his ground speed to calculate how far he’d gone. He stopped six other times to get warm, having gone about forty miles.

The dark was fully upon him by then, with the cloud- and moonless night bringing with it freezing temperatures. It was getting serious, and the stops became more frequent. Now, he not only had to contend with the cold, but fatigue was setting in. The cold was draining him of energy, and at one point, he realized he’d reached his limit. He swept over the dark terrain looking for a suitable shelter, a place with a little of the scarce vegetation that had begun to grow on the once-dead world. He needed a place to rest, and one that would retain the heat from a static electricity ball.

He found a promising spot and landed, quickly scurrying against a low rock outcropping. There wasn’t enough of the scraggly moss to make a bed, but at least the ground wasn’t covered in tundra. He leaned against the rock wall while bringing the crackling ball of light in as close as he dared. The dichotomy was distinct. He was being scorched on one side of his body while aching cold penetrated his back.

Chapter 4

Adam suddenly jerked awake. He could barely move, with each motion a study in agony. He’d fallen asleep, and when he did, the warming globe of electricity evaporated. He struggled to check his watch, learning that he had slept for almost an hour in the bitter cold of the Korash-Nor plains, his back still pressed against the heat-sapping granite outcropping.

His mind was foggy, the pain in his body intense. He tried to concentrate enough to conjure up a life-saving heating ball but failed the first few times. His body was racked with violent spasms, robbing him of concentration. Anger grew to such intensity that he finally screamed out in the darkness, letting out at least some of the frustration.

His mind cleared after that, and moments later, a small glowing ball of light appeared before his eyes. He stared at it as if it were a god, cradling it as close to his frozen hands as possible. As the warmth soaked in, Adam moved the ball farther away and continued to let it grow, as his rejuvenated ATD gathered up as much of the raw static electricity in the dry cold air as possible. He’d never made a ball this big; it had to be a foot across, crackling and spitting tiny shafts of blue, white and yellow lightning into the night.

The heat was incredible, and after a while, Adam toned it down, reducing the ball to half its size. He felt better now, enough where his mind could function. He’d only gone about a hundred miles, and that was a crude estimate. That wasn’t good enough. He thought about staying where he was until daybreak, but then he’d have to risk falling asleep again. The next time he may never wake up.

He had no other option.

Reluctantly, Adam created another magic air carpet and set off across the dark landscape, using the strange constellations in the sky as markers as to the direction he was heading. He knew he would have to take the ride into the upper atmosphere eventually to scan for the BARs. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

He went slower this time, figuring he was only moving at about ten miles per hour. He had to be careful of obstacles along the way since he wasn’t that high, and the light from the containment field robbed him of his night vision. But the higher he went, the colder it got.

Adam couldn’t remember ever being this cold. The only thing that came close was the twenty-four weeks of BUD/S training in the SEALs in Coronado. Ocean water off the California coast never got warm, and the instructors made sure each candidate spent as much time in the frigid surf as possible. He could vividly remember the uncontrollable shivers he got while sitting in the gentle waves for hours on end. While on dive operations, it was different; he had something to do to take his mind off the cold. But during endurance training, all he had to do was sit and think of the cold. He was supposed to learn how to ignore the pain, to tough it out. The whole idea of SEAL training was to weed out those who didn’t have the will to survive. And it wasn’t so much about physical strength or conditioning, but about mental toughness. You had to want it more, to not let the instructor, or the cold or the pain defeat you. That was what Adam needed at the moment, a superhuman boost of mental toughness.

That would have been fine—let his mind wander and get lost in some alternate reality for a while. But he couldn’t do that. He had to maintain the strictest concentration to keep the containment field intact. That wasn’t only difficult, but it was mentally and physically exhausting. This didn’t apply only to the magic carpet, but to his warming balls of electricity, as well. Both required constant attention, although the globes not as much.

After another hour or so—and half a dozen quick respites to warm up—Adam felt it was time to make his first high altitude scan. He had no illusions that it would be one and done. He figured he’d have to make several before he could get a good reading on the BARs at the Garrison.

He spent ten minutes soaking up all the excess heat he could, but he knew there was no easy way to do this. He would just have to tough it out. He created the air cushion, and while still invigorated by the residual heat still clinging to his clothing, he shot into the air.

As soon as he took off, his mind wandered slightly, and the cushion dissolved for a moment. He fought to get it back, while a phantom thought was present in his mind. That thought was that in the dark of the Korash-Nor night, he couldn’t judge distance. He would have no idea how high he was or how far he would fall while he did the scan. He pushed the thought out of his mind and concentrated on the sparkling electricity below him.

The cold grew more intense the higher he went. At a high enough altitude, he could make out the horizon to the east—the direction he was traveling—as the faint glow of morning was seen. That was reassuring. He had his bearings straight, and it gave him a location to focus his scan.

The mutants imbued his ATD with added detection capability, saying that knowledge of impending hazards was often better than an active deterrent. He was counting on the upgraded capacity of the device to scan out a hundred miles or more to detect the BARs.

At first, Adam wasn’t aware that the magic carpet had dissolved. One moment he was soaring ever higher into the Korash-Nor sky; the next, he was tumbling back toward the surface.

He must have blacked out, either from the cold or the altitude. Either way, he was now in a world of hurt. But he couldn’t let this opportunity pass. He accessed the ATD and concentrated on the distant eastern horizon, searching for energy signals in the mostly silent world. He could never have done this on a more conventional planet, one filled with electronic and energy sources of all types. There would have been too much clutter for him to identify a single source.

But Korash-Nor was different. Except for a faint reading to the south, where he knew one of the few remaining inhabited cities to be, everything else was dark and silent.

It was a strange sensation. Adam knew he was falling, as evidenced by the frigid air rushing over his body. But the sensation of motion was gone. It was as if he was standing still as hurricane-force winds swept over him. That was when he noticed he wasn’t cold anymore; in fact, he was at peace with everything. It was so beautiful up here, with the low crescent of the horizon and its soft yellow glow hypnotizing.

Then he noticed a small light in the darkness between him and the horizon. But it wasn’t a light, more a phantom beacon calling out to him. His ATD had detected something.

The thought snapped him out of his dangerous reverie. He concentrated on the location of the signal. It was pretty far from the horizon, making it closer to him than he figured. He searched for landmarks and found a pair of dark lumps on the landscape. Mountains or hills? The signal came from just on the other side of the peaks.

He’d found the Garrison. Now, he could relax, get some sleep. He would go there … later.

But that wasn’t right. Adam wasn’t anywhere he could relax. Where was he? There was nothing but darkness and the mesmerizing curve of the light in the distance.

Adam became aware, letting the panic sweep through his body, producing endorphins that sparked his body into action. He was cold to the point of numbness, and that wasn’t good. His mind was in a fog, but still, he fought for control. He was Adam Cain; he would not let the cold defeat him.

He imagined the crackling light of the static electricity field, knowing that at the end of the effort would be all the warmth he needed. But first, he had to stop his fall. He had no idea how high he was; the surface below was shrouded in darkness. He focused his efforts, concentrating harder than he’d ever done before, his eyes watering and his lungs screaming as he fell.

There was light now, not on the surface but closer, within arm’s length. As the flickering grew more intense, Adam’s mind cleared, allowing him to force the magic carpet into existence. He felt the soothing softness of the air supporting him. He wasn’t moving any longer, and the bitterness of the wind was gone. As he hovered, he could feel the faint residual heat from the containment field. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Now, his entire world was the warm cushion of air below him. He had no trouble maintaining the field’s integrity. There was nothing else except him and his magic carpet.

As his senses returned, Adam allowed the cushion to descend slowly. He could now see the soft undulations of the landscape by the subtle shades of gray and black. The ground wasn’t far away, and he landed with a jolt, the platform of air bouncing slightly as it hit.

He dissolved the cushion and fell face-first to the cold, damp soil. He didn’t care. He struggled to roll over, his body stiff from the intense cold. He conjured up another static electricity ball and placed it above him, bathing in the waves of heat radiating from the flickering light. Although his back quickly absorbed the cold from the ground, he tolerated it for a moment before rolling on his side to let the warmth reach other parts of his body.

He would stay here for as long as it took to get warm, while consciously fighting the urge to fall asleep. He’d come too far to let the night defeat him. The Garrison was close, probably not more than twenty miles away. The thought gave him energy. Another couple of hours and he’d be safe, warm … and alive.

* * *

The sky was beginning to lighten with the promise of a new day. It took Adam another three hours to travel the twenty miles to the Garrison. His bearings were true, and in the gathering light, be recognized the twin peaks that marked the direction he had to go to reach the site. The elevation increased through the pass between the hills, and as he crested the summit, his ATD was able to lock onto his destination.

Chapter 5

Adam was ecstatic, although he had to be careful. He couldn’t very well come soaring over the barricades and into the center of the compound like Aladdin on a flying carpet of crackling light. That might not go over as planned. Instead, he landed out of sight of the guard station and walked the rest of the way.

He was bone-weary, filthy and aching from the cold and the countless falls he’d taken throughout the night. His uniform was covered in mud to the point it was hard to recognize it as an Enforcer outfit. Also, the troops would be on edge. The war on Korash-Nor was escalating, and he was sure by now they’d heard of the battle that took place not too far from their compound. Two hundred miles may seem like quite a distance, but on a world with so few people, that was in the neighborhood.

Adam had no idea as to the species makeup of the facility. He was sure no Humans would be here. Although recruits were flowing into the Enforcer Corps from across the galaxy, it was still rare to find a Human among the boots. He kept track of the Humans, and as of his last accounting, there were forty-one of them in the Corps. None of them would be stuck out in the boonies on a planet like Korash-Nor. They were too valuable to waste their time in the middle of nowhere.

The Garrison wasn’t an enclosed fort per se, just a series of buildings surrounded by low-lying barricades made of composite fiberboard. The barriers were there more to define the area rather than afford protection against attack. That would change if the Enforcers became more embroiled in the conflict. A small spaceport was located south of the Garrison with six hovercopters and a pair of space shuttles.

Adam had seen the reports coming from across the Zone of his peacekeeping forces being attacked by both natives and PCs alike, even though each vehicle was clearly marked by the color and the symbol on the roof. Also, all local troops wore designated uniforms to set them apart. But with counterfeit units cropping up everywhere, no one could be trusted these days not to open fire. The Garrisons were a little safer since they were well-established locales. Everyone knew these were Enforcers. But when the troops ventured outside their sanctuaries, that’s when things got dicey. That was why they seldom did.

Three bored-looking aliens sat at the main entrance to the Garrison, bundled in arctic weather gear and with portable heating towers glowing nearby. And although the station was located forty miles north of one of the major cities where most of the fighting was taking place, the troops here didn’t have much to do. They showed the flag and reminded the natives and PCs that outside forces were keeping an eye on them. In truth, the center was primarily a remote communication and monitoring station rather than an active military base, utilizing dozens of satellites in orbit, along with a fleet of drones, to keep an eye on the planet. Only about one hundred twenty Enforcers were on Korash-Nor. As the fighting escalated—and Navarus chose sides in the conflict—more troops would be sent in. Three of the wars taking place in the Zone had several thousand Enforcers fighting within the ranks of the chosen side, attempting to suppress the enemy. Two were embedded with native populations, while the third fought with the PCs. Siding with the former MK personnel was unusual and happened when the natives went overboard and attempted to exterminate any outsiders from their planet. That was something Adam couldn’t let happen.

Adam held his arms out to his side as he approached the guard station. It took ten minutes to walk from where he dissolved the air platform to the base, and already he was once again racked with teeth-rattling shivers. His joints could barely function, causing him to move like an old man, with jerky, uncertain steps. The guards were on their feet, aiming their BARs at him.

“Please, I need help,” Adam blurted out. “I’m Adam Cain, the head of the Enforcers. I’ve traveled through the night to get here. I need help.”

That was as far as he got before he dropped to his knees, stuffing his frozen hands into his pockets. Keeping them exposed to the sub-zero temperature was too much to bear.

The guards approached; a corporal took the lead.

“Adam Cain? That is not possible. We received a message during the night that he is dead.”

“How alive do I look?” Adam asked sarcastically. “I didn’t die, but I almost did. Now, get me some help. Call your commander if you must.”

The alien wasn’t buying it.

“If you are Adam Cain, then what is the name of our commander? As head of the Enforcers, you should know.”

Adam hung his head in exhaustion. “There are four hundred eighty Garrisons in the Zone. I don’t know the names of all the commanders. Just get him, corporal.”

Every second that passed while the alien decided what to do was another second of the intense cold penetrating his body.

“While we wait for you to make up your god-damned mind, can I move closer to your heaters? I’m dying here.”

The alien waved the barrel of this rifle, and Adam struggled to his feet. The quad heating towers produced an area of blissful heat, soaking into every part of Adam’s body. The feeling was orgasmic. Another guard offered up his chair to Adam; he was the smart one, covering his bases in case Adam was who he said he was.

The leader fingered his comm and called the base commander. Adam didn’t catch the name; he didn’t care. He wasn’t anxious to leave the comfort of the heaters, and he was sure the commander wouldn’t go out in the early morning cold to see who was at the door.

Eventually, an enclosed transport hummed up to the station, and Adam was driven to the command center. There weren’t a lot of troops up at this hour, only those on duty. A variety of eyes, buds and stalks watched him with trepidation. One brought him a steaming cup of liquid Adam assumed was some form of alien coffee. He held the warm flask in his hands while slowly sipping the magic elixir.

Adam was warm now, almost to the point of nausea. He began to worry if he’d suffered any lasting damage from the cold, praying that frostbite hadn’t set in. He checked his fingers; none were turning black, showing signs of the early onset of the condition. He could recover from hypothermia; frostbite was something much more debilitating and lasting.

The base commander eventually came into the room. He’d been asleep when first summoned, but now he came dressed in full Enforcer attire, with the insignia of a major on his collar. Adam didn’t recognize him or his species, but the alien had quite the opposite reaction when he saw Adam.

“Summon the medical tech!” the gravel-throated officer ordered. “And a new set of clothing for the Marshal. Please, sir, I apologize for how you were treated. You can imagine our shock after hearing of your death earlier. I am Amann Al’Poma, base commander.”

“It’s okay, Major,” Adam said. He tried grinning but found his lips were dry and cracked. He hadn’t had cause to smile before this. He winced. “Can you contact my ship and let them know I’m alive? And then get a shuttle down here as soon as possible. I appreciate your offer of a med tech, but the facilities aboard my ship are a lot more advanced.”

“Marshal Cain, how is it that you survived?” the tall, overweight alien asked. “It was reported you fell from a shuttle. We did not even know you were on Korash-Nor. If so, we would have searched for you.”

“You’re not to blame, Major Al’Poma. Luckily, I landed in a lake,” Adam lied.

“Lake? What lake? All the lakes in the region are frozen.”

Adam shook his head. “It could have been a pond; I don’t know.”

“You were present at the battle, I am told. Were you there to retrieve the package?”

Adam frowned. “What package?”

Al’Poma looked confused. “The natives were transporting a package to the Garrison when they were attacked. I assumed that is why you came to Korash-Nor. What other reason could it be, and come in stealth?”

“The convoy was coming here?” This was news to Adam. Most natives and PCs had little contact with the Enforcer Garrisons, not until conflicts escalated. The commander had to be referring to the package John Graham mentioned, the thing he said was his, and the reason he tried to kill everyone on sight. “What was in the package?”

Al’Poma bobbed his head. “That is unknown. I was not told. I assume you would know. All I know is that the natives contacted me a few days ago about a package they wished to get off the planet and to Navarus. In truth, they said the package was destined for the mutants. I am aware of your relationship with them. I am sorry, but the sequence of events makes sense.”

Now, Adam was confused. Although nearly everyone in the galaxy knew of the mutants—Lila and Panur—very few would have business with them, or the means of contacting the pair, especially not a group of struggling natives on a backward world like Korash-Nor.

Then it hit him.

The planet was one of those once controlled by the Director, Wolfgang Stimmel. He maintained that control not only through his vast wealth but also the threat from the two Dark Matter Collectors he possessed. The DMCs were a continual source of dark matter cubes which could be combined to create energy bombs of varying degree. A pair of cubes could destroy a building; two pairs, a city, nine pairs, a planet. And each DMC had slots for ninety cubes. Having the DMCs made Stimmel the most powerful being in the galaxy—right up to the time he was consumed by a miniature blackhole.

After his death, an all-out effort was made to locate the missing DMCs but with no luck. The Director had hidden them, and that was where they remained to this day.

Had the natives found the DMCs on Korash-Nor? Did they realize what they had, so much so that they wanted to return them to the mutants from which Stimmel had stolen them? It made sense. John Graham was a Human and head of the security detail for the planet. If anyone, Stimmel would have entrusted the DMCs to a fellow traveler from his homeworld.

And now Graham had the DMCs.

The energy drained even more from Adam’s weary body. Dammit, he thought, the DMCs are out in the clear and in the hands of a Stimmel disciple.

He looked at the alien officer. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a little compatible food and a place to lie down until the shuttle gets here. I’ve had one hell of a night.”

“I am sorry, but I do not understand.”

“It was a bad time,” Adam explained, “and now I need some rest.”

“Yes, of course.” The major began barking orders, which in his case was exactly what he did. Fortunately, his troops understood their commander, and a few moments later, Adam was escorted into a side room with a cot. He fell onto the cushion, ignoring the plate of greenish-brown mush that was brought in and set on a side table. He would eat when he woke up. But at the moment, all Adam wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and thaw. He would save the galaxy when he woke up.

Chapter 6

As usual, Adam Cain was once again up to his eyeballs in paperwork. But it wasn’t really paperwork, rather a combination of the six data screens he had embedded in his desk, along with an assortment of loose datapads, each open to a different report, brief or correspondence.

The problems he contended with were varied, even as he only wanted to concentrate on one. After leaving Korash-Nor, he’d issued an all-Zone bulletin for the person known as John Graham, with a clear ID on the ship he was using. The Garrison monitoring equipment recorded his departure and escape vector, while Adam scrambled every Enforcer ship he had in the region on a desperate quest to recover the deadly Dark Matter Collectors. What the renegade Human expected to do with them was anyone’s guess. He hadn’t made any demands to date, although Graham was now technically the ultimate power in the galaxy. At least had a weapon that made him so. However, during their brief conversation, Adam didn’t get the impression Graham was that much of a long-term thinker. It was obvious he hadn’t thought out his attack on Adam’s peacekeepers very well to realize what a shitstorm it would unleash. He also had to know by now that Adam survived. That had to worry him. Adam Cain wasn’t a man to be trifled with, especially not after trying to kill him. Adam had a pretty good idea Graham was still in the Zone, cowering somewhere in fear while possessing the most-deadly power in the galaxy.

Adam smirked. I bet he doesn’t even know how the things work, he thought. If so, he’d probably destroy the god-damn galaxy. And that was why it was vital they find him. In expert hands, the DMCs were dangerous enough; in the hands of a rookie, terrifying.

Unfortunately, the hunt for John Graham was just one of the myriad of problems Adam had to juggle in his capacity as Marshal of the Enforcers. It would have been a monumental task for even the best manager-type, but Adam hadn’t yet learned how to delegate. That was the next thing he had on his to-do list.

And that was the reason he winced when Riyad Tarazi entered his office without knocking. There was a secretary in the outer room, but seeing that Riyad was second-in-command of the Enforcers, he had carte blanche when it came to accessing the Big Man himself.

Adam waved an impatient hand at his friend.

“I don’t have time for this.”

Riyad frowned. “You don’t even know why I’m here.”

“It doesn’t matter; I don’t have time.”

“Make time,” Riyad demanded. “Grab your coat, and let’s go.”

Adam frowned. “My coat? It’s ninety degrees outside.”

“Not where we’re going.”

“I told you, I don’t have time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are. You were specifically requested, my friend.”

Adam recoiled. No one had the authority to specifically request the head of the Enforcers, not anymore. The organization was too big, too powerful.

Riyad opened a small cabinet at the side of the room and removed Adam’s official dark grey Enforcer jacket. He tossed it to his boss.

“Come. We have a new case. It is only up the street.”

Adam hesitated for a moment before rising from behind the desk. He looked down at the plethora of lit screens begging for his attention. Something local; no journey off-planet. And an excuse to put all this damn paperwork off for another day.

“All right,” he said. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Riyad was right when he said they were going just up the street. They were heading for the Expansion Bank located a half-mile from the ever-expanding headquarters of the Enforcers.

A lot had changed along Lan Road in the past two years, including the fact that the building that once housed the bulk of Adam’s police force was now six times as large as before and now occupied a complex of buildings climbing the gently sloping hills. Several thousand people worked out of the facility, gaining access to the vast parking lot from a dedicated entrance off the new Balamar Expressway that paralleled Lan Road to the east. The jungle had been cleared between Kanac and Balamar, with only the ever-growing Kanac Spaceport forming a barrier between the two townships.

Twelve miles south of central Balamar began the twenty-two-square-mile Enforcer Base, having absorbed the much smaller Camp Forrester over a year ago. The base was a hub of frenetic energy and even sported a dedicated spaceport rivaling the Kanac facility in size. Thirteen thousand troops trained, lived and worked on the base, while the remainder of Adam’s sixty-thousand-strong police/paramilitary force was deployed throughout the Dead Zone.

In addition to the massive base, the spectacular Maris-Kliss Resort, located a mile south of Capt. Cain’s Bar & Grill along Lan Road, was the Disneyland of Navarus, attracting both business-beings and tourists from across half the galaxy.

Because of the Expressway, most traffic to the Resort was now routed to the east, and away from the picturesque shoreline drive. It also ferried the thousands of daily commuters to and from the Enforcer Base. Because of this, quaint Lan Road remained relatively unaffected by the massive build-up in the area, although most of the once family-owned restaurants and other businesses along the thoroughfare had been scooped up by corporate interests and were now simply entries on a computer ledger somewhere.

As he and Riyad walked along the concrete sidewalk, Adam glanced over at the familiar façade of Cain’s. At one time, the bar was his salvation, a way to escape the rat race of the galaxy. His friends Riyad and Sherri—along with the aliens Kaylor and Jym—shared the dream with him. Now Sherri was the President of the Cyneth, the official name of the region once known as the Dead Zone. At the same time, Riyad abandoned his fledgling outfitting business for a job more suited to his disposition and experience, that of First Senior Enforcer, only one step below Adam. That left Kaylor and Jym to run the bar for Adam and his partners, and they were doing a great job of it. With the population growth in the area, business at Cain’s was booming, even with the massive MK Resort down the street. The bar expanded into Riyad’s old warehouse and Sherri’s former hotel/brothel/opium den and was now a favorite among tourists and locals alike.

Adam shrugged as he walked by. Even if he were still just a simple barkeep, the business had grown so much that it wouldn’t have been the same. Hell, nothing was the same anymore.

Case in point was the smallish Expansion Bank Adam and Riyad were approaching. It was built five years ago and designed to handle only a fraction of the business it now catered to. The bank was a deceptively small building that sat atop a five-hundred-foot-deep system of delivery chains and tubes that brought Juirean credits to and from the secure vault buried in the volcanic bedrock. The bank was theft-proof, as were all Juirean banks. No living being was allowed into the vault except for rare maintenance and inspections. All transactions were done through the conveyor system, and that system was currently in the process of being upgraded.

Three days ago, the bank temporarily shut down with plans to expand and upgrade the vault and transport system. The news came as a surprise, but once announced, it made sense. According to what the manager told him, the small bank in Balamar was the twelve-hundredth largest bank in the system, a system that spanned the galaxy. That was pretty impressive, and considering how much business it now handled, an upgrade was long overdue.

Workers and equipment had been arriving from the Kanac Spaceport for a couple of days, taking up most of the security buffer around the building. Since none of the employees had access to the vault, robbing the bank was not possible. Therefore, thieves chose to attack their victims either going to or from the facility. Because of this, the bank bought up the surrounding lots and cleared the buildings, making it harder for would-be thieves to sneak up on the patrons. Personally, Adam could count eight notches on his handgun from the variety of aliens who tried to rob him of his bar’s receipts during the ritualistic walk from Cain’s. Fortunately, no one had been robbed in this part of Balamar for going on a year. There were too many Enforcers around to let that happen.

Adam and Riyad entered the bank. Both of them were intimately familiar with the interior, as they were with the bank manager, a native Navarian named Uion/Ve. He wasn’t an indigenous native of Navarus—no one was—but he was born on the planet and in Balamar itself. He was of the same race as the Vice-President of the Cyneth, a rotund, purple-skinned creature named Lion/El. Adam and Lion/El had a history together, although they would never be mistaken for friends. Uion/Ve, on the other hand, was one of Adam’s regular drinking buddies at Cain’s.

The alien greeted Adam warmly, extending a hand from what was known as his min—upper—set of four arms. He’d taken up the Human habit of handshaking, reveling in the variety of options he had and thrilled by the physical contact that was not common among his race, at least not with aliens, such as Adam.

“My friend, Adam Cain,” Uion/Ve said with forced enthusiasm. Adam knew him well enough to know when something was bothering him. “I am so glad Mr. Tarazi was able to secure your assistance.”

Adam looked around the lobby, at the empty teller stations and deserted interior. No workers were present, and there was no sign of prior work on the upgrade. Such an important facility couldn’t sit idle for long. Adam wondered what the workers were waiting for?

And that’s when a Juirean Overlord walked out of Uion/Ve’s office.

It made sense that a Juirean supervisor would be present when accessing the vault. That was the magic of the system. Only a supervisor had the means of opening the chamber, and an Overlord at that. And if would-be thieves took hostages, hoping to force a supervisor to give them access, then they hadn’t been paying attention for the past four thousand years. The Juireans cared only for themselves, and none worked in the local banks, only at the central depositories. Alien employees would be gladly sacrificed to maintain the integrity of the banking system.

The eight-foot-tall, green-skinned alien walked up to Adam and Riyad, his magnificent mane of dark blue hair signifying his class within the Juirean Authority.

Uion/Ve spread his four arms in a motion of introduction. “My friends Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi, this is Overlord Andon Fe Rolsin, regional supervisor of the Expansion Credit System.”

Neither Human nor Juirean made formal gestures of greeting. Instead, they stared at each other for a moment before the alien grunted.

“Of course, I know of Cain and Tarazi; what Juirean doesn’t?” He turned slightly toward Uion/Ve. “I still see not why you insist that these particular advocates be present.”

“It is protocol, my Lord, as you know. They are third-party observers, as well as the heads of the local police authority in the Zone. Their reputations are beyond reproach.”

“Authority, so you say? And I know of the reputations of the Humans. They are hardly above reproach.”

There was no love lost between the Humans and the Juireans, even though the last war they fought took place over twenty years ago. Both races held grudges longer than most.

“Very well, Uion/Ve,” said the Overlord. “You may begin.”

The rotund alien grimaced. “Yes, shall we step into my office. There is information to impart before we go to the vault.”

“We’re going to the vault?” Adam blurted.

The Overlord grunted again as he led the foursome into the manager’s office.

“What’s this all about, Uion/Ve?” Adam asked. “Aren’t you getting ready to do some upgrade to the system? Why are we here?”

The four-armed alien remained silent as he stepped around his desk and turned a monitor toward Adam and Riyad. The Overlord gave him a nod.

“Although an upgrade is the public version, that is not the true reason for the shutdown. Four days ago, we lost contact with the vault.”

“What do you mean, lost contact?” Riyad asked. “Like in a communications breakdown?”

“Since all access to the vault is done remotely, that would be the most likely conclusion. However—”

“Your computers are down?” Riyad continued to inquire, irritated that this may be nothing more than a glitch.

“No, the computers are functioning.” The alien leaned in closer to the screen, pointing with one of his many fingers. “This is a live feed from inside the vault. We have cameras to monitor the interior, although only one is still operational. The lights in the chamber are not functioning, so the only illumination we see is from a status light on the camera. If you look closely, you will see reflections from inside.”

Adam and Riyad followed the alien’s directions. He was right. There was a series of faint curving streaks, not contiguous, but broken and sporadic.

“I don’t get it,” Adam said. “The lights are out; you obviously had some kind of power failure.”

“That, my friend, is not the case. This is not a conventional vault. Instead, it is a maze of conveyors, stackers and other robotic systems that fill the interior. And within, there are redundant power backups. The vault cannot lose power. It has been designed for that not to happen.”

“Well then, I don’t know what to say.” Adam looked at the Overlord. “Why are we here?”

“As the manager stated, there are protocols in place,” Overlord Andon began. “As you can imagine, the integrity of the Expansion Credit System is paramount. Any abnormalities, no matter how small, must not only be investigated but also held in the strictest confidence. I am here to grant access to the vault to discover where the breakdown has occurred. As part of the manager’s charter, Uion/Ve is allowed to have third-party observers on hand during the initial breach.”

Adam snickered. “So, a little CYA?”

Both Uion/Ve and the Overlord frowned.

“Cover Your Ass,” Adam explained, which didn’t help. “You want someone around as a witness in case things aren’t right.”

Uion/Ve nodded, a little too emphatically. Andon scolded him with a glare.

“It is the manager’s right,” the Juirean grumbled. “I protested; however, my leadership resisted. Now, Uion/Ve, let us begin. As you know, the entry procedure is long and involved.”

Adam accessed his ATD and contacted Riyad telepathically through his.

We’re going to the vault! How cool is that?

I know; Uion/Ve told me. Do you know how many times I have fantasized about gaining access to a Juirean bank vault? When I was a pirate in the Fringe, that was the ultimate goal; however, we never figured out how. They’re buried deep underground and with vibration sensors if you try to tunnel. And then, multiple security measures will collapse the shaft to the vault should one try to access it from the surface. And then from what I understand, the vault is also welded shut, since seldom is access required. The Juireans can cut the welds, but that takes time. He looked at Adam with sad eyes. I’m afraid our experience today will be long and boring, and just so we can be witnesses to protect our friend. Sorry I dragged you into this, but Uion/Ve insisted.

That’s fine; it beats sitting behind a desk. Besides, this is all for show. I’m sure Uion/Ve had nothing to do with this. He’s just making sure he won’t be held responsible. I don’t blame him, especially since he has to work with Juireans. I’m sure it’s just a power outage, especially after what you just told me about the security measures they have in place.

Let us hope so, for Uion/Ve’s sake.

Chapter 7

Adam stood with Riyad near the two-foot thick elevator access door, waiting as technicians worked the controls that would send them on their journey deep into the volcanic bedrock below the bank. Besides his curiosity, Adam was also worried. He had all his money in the bank, as did most people in Balamar, even though in truth, it wasn’t that big a deal. The Expansion guarantees all funds, and if by chance something happens to the credits, replacements get shipped in from one of nine Depositories located across the galaxy. It may take a while to get your money, but it will happen eventually.

As he waited on the technicians, his thoughts resurrected another bone of contention. He’d come to Navarus and the quiet beach town of Balamar to retire, to run a low-key bar and restaurant away from the hustle and bustle of the galaxy. He was now the Top Cop for a hundred worlds and the go-to guy when it came to any galactic crisis this side of the Fringe. It was a radical departure from his original intent when moving to Navarus. Of course, most of this was his fault. Retirement seemed like a good idea at the time; reality was a lot more boring. But Adam couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t truly alive unless he was on some desperate mission to save the galaxy from an assortment of alien—and sometimes Human—nasties. And in a place as large as the Milky Way, there was never a shortage of bad guys causing problems. For twenty years, he’d traipsed across the galaxy from one crisis to another. Hell, his adventures had even taken him to the Andromeda Galaxy, as well as alternative dimensions. The thought boggled his mind. If he hadn’t lived it, he wouldn’t have believed any of it was possible. But he had the scars—both mental and physical—to prove it was real.

The techs suddenly stepped back from the elevator, and the door slid open. Adam and Riyad entered the smallish compartment and crowded in with Uion/Ve and the Overlord, along with a new pair of techs carrying tool cases. More security? Different techs for different jobs? It made sense.

The elevator was moving now, and it wasn’t hard to read the grim looks on the faces of the bank officials during the three-minute-long ride to the bottom. The buildings were designed specifically to be theft-proof; this was the Juirean’s solemn promise to the Expansion. An Expansion bank had never been robbed. Because of that, Adam was confident this was simply a glitch in the electronics somewhere. Even so, Adam tried to imagine the type of operation that could tunnel through hundreds of feet of solid rock to reach the vault. And then once there, cut through three feet of reinforced composite material—the most advanced in the galaxy—and all the while without setting off the vibration sensors and other detectors set in place. It had to be a glitch. What else could it be?

The door to the elevator slid open, and the six people exited into a surprisingly narrow and musty smelling corridor. It was cold down here, prompting Adam to don his Enforcer jacket. Riyad was already wearing his.

Two more sets of doors had to be accessed by the techs before the party reached the main vault. After that, it was an agonizingly long and tedious process of cutting off the welds and programming the security box to accept the emergency access codes Overlord Andon provided. It took thirty minutes after leaving the elevator before the entourage finally accessed the vault.

A surprising intake of air rushed into the compartment, literally sucking Uion/Ve into the room. The alien grasped metal components using one of his four arms to steady himself. The only light in the vault came from the corridor until the techs and Overlord activated powerful hand-held flashlights. What the beams revealed was a large room with a variety of conveyors, shelves, and robotic arms, all facing a large central open area free of equipment. Adam found it odd there was so much wasted space in the center of the room. The void appeared to serve no purpose.

That’s when Adam saw Uion/Ve nearly collapse to the floor. Only a solitary arm held him up, as his round head surveyed the interior, a look of utter shock on his face. Something wasn’t right, but since Adam had no idea what was normal, he didn’t know how to react.

He looked to the Overlord and techs for guidance. The workers hesitated only a moment before moving into the vault, having removed sensing wands from their tool chest. They began sweeping the interior, leading to the huge open area in the middle. For his part, Overlord Andon wore a look of suppressed anger. Adam had enough experience with Juireans to read their subtle emotions. This one was fighting mad. But he wasn’t shocked, not like Uion/Ve.

Riyad crowded past Adam and entered the vault, following Andon and the techs. Uion/Ve still clutched a metal support, his face frozen, his once purple skin now a light shade of pink. Adam followed next.

It only took a moment for Adam to realize what the fuss was about. The void in the center of the room was in the indisputable shape of a sphere. Adam then noticed how the gentle arc continued into the base and ceiling of the vault, cutting out perfectly smooth concave bowls, slicing through the thick composite walls, and into the basalt bedrock. He didn’t have to be familiar with what the vault should have looked like to understand what had everyone so upset.

Something had removed nearly eighty percent of the volume while leaving behind a forty-foot-in-diameter void.

Instinctively, Adam knew what happened. The bowls in the floor and ceiling were identical to what was left after the miniature blackhole consumed Wolfgang Stimmel. But how could a blackhole form in a room five hundred feet below ground?

Then another idea popped into his mind, but before he could articulate it, Riyad was tugging on his jacket sleeve.

“Lerpiniere fields,” Riyad whispered intensely.

Adam frowned and shook his head. “Lerpiniere fields didn’t do this.”

“I know. This place was hit by a teleportation field, like the ones service modules use. It’s the only explanation.”

Adam nodded. That was his second conclusion. “Yeah, I can see that. But how? And what do L-fields have to do with it?”

Riyad flashed is trademark white smile. “It means every damn bank in the galaxy is going to need L-fields to protect their assets against teleportation theft. And that, my friend, is going to make us rich, richer than we’ve ever imagined.”

“But we don’t know how to make Lerpiniere fields.”

“I know … but we know people who do.”

Chapter 8

What followed was a circus of activity, as workers from topside began shuttling down through the elevator, bringing with them tools and parts. They pushed past Adam and Riyad and set to work with quiet efficiency repairing the equipment in the vault. Their movements were smooth and practiced. They’d done this before.

Uion/Ve was speechless, wallowing in disbelief in a corner the vault until Andon told him it was time to leave. The technicians had work to do, and the observers were in the way.

The ride to the surface was made in silence, but by the time they reached the top and moved back into Uion/Ve’s office, the bank manager had found his voice.

“I do not understand what has happened,” he squealed. “We have been robbed of nearly our entire inventory, and by some mysterious means. The scandal of this will destroy us all. What are we to do? How was this even possible?”

The Overlord was surprisingly silent and stoic. Adam studied him.

“He knows,” Adam stated, still looking at the Juirean.

“He knows what?” Uion/Ve stammered.

“He knows what happened. And this isn’t the first time, is it?”

Uion/Ve gasped. “That is impossible, Adam Cain. No Expansion bank has ever been robbed. If so, I would have known.”

“Tell him, Andon.”

The Juirean glared at Adam, but then reluctantly shrugged. “It is true.”

The statement hit Uion/Ve like a brick. “True? Other banks have suffered the same fate?”

“Four others,” the Overlord stated. “This is the fifth. It is why I was already en route to Navarus when you reported the abnormality.”

“And why you already had the equipment stacked up outside to repair the vault when you got here,” Adam added.

Riyad was shaking his head. “Are you saying you knew the bank would be robbed? Why didn’t you do something to stop it?”

“Because we still do not know how the thefts have been accomplished. You are thinking it yourself: What technology could withdraw a volume of material from far below the surface. Even knowing what was to happen would not have prevented it.”

“That may be true,” Riyad said. “but how did you know the Balamar bank was next?”

“A pattern developed, reinforced by past evidence. Signs were detected. This facility is also the largest to be attacked. I sent repair equipment ahead on the chance I was correct. Even so, I only arrived this morning for the inspection, four days after the event.”

The Juirean then stepped closer to the pair of Humans, leaning over them in the intimidating way of their race. It didn’t affect Adam or Riyad.

“You must be sworn to secrecy as to the event. Knowledge of the others has already been suppressed; it will be the same here. News of this cannot be revealed. This is Expansion business, and should others learn of the vulnerability to the credit system, it would cause catastrophic disruption.”

“I understand,” Adam said. “You’re making good on the funds, I’m sure.”

“I came with replacement funds already. The vault will be operational in two days, and the credits replaced. It will be as before.”

“Except someone knows how to access your vaults remotely,” Riyad threw in. “And as you say, they’re getting bolder, attacking the larger banks. Your Depositories may be next. If that happens, it will be impossible to keep a lid on things.”

“A lid? Ah … yes, a lid. I trust you will assist with that, Mr. Tarazi. I saw you and Cain conversing in the vault. Do you have an insight into this event?”

“Probably not more than you,” Riyad began. “I’m sure you’re familiar with teleportation—”

“Yes, on a scale such as used by the Aris service modules. But that is of limited range and self-contained. Do you know of other applications?”

Riyad shook his head. “No, I don’t. This is something new. But we know people who might be able to shed some light on what’s happening. We have access to the mutants, Panur and Lila Bol. They’re here on Navarus. They might know how this was done.”

“I am aware they are here, as well as your relationship with them. Will you seek their expertise on my behalf?”

“We’ll seek the information on our behalf, and then let you know what we find out.”

As with all senior Juireans, Andon wasn’t used to being treated with disrespect, especially by a Human. He bristled but maintained his composure. “Very well. Any assistance … will be appreciated.”

Adam suppressed a grin, knowing what a struggle it was for the alien to ask for help from the Humans.

“In the meantime,” Adam said, “is there anything we can do to help with your investigation at the bank? I have forensic teams, along with some of the best laboratory equipment money can buy, thanks to the Expansion and the Union.”

“That will not be necessary. I have my own. A simple inquiry with the mutants will suffice.”

“You say you’ve been following these events for some time?” Riyad continued. “Any idea who’s behind it?”

It was the Juirean’s turn to exude confidence. “Yes, we do have a party under suspicion.”

Adam was surprised to hear it. “You do? Who? Maybe we can help with that part. I have sixty thousand deputies under my command.”

“The Authority has that aspect of the investigation under control, Mr. Cain. The Credit System is not without resources.”

“You can track the credits, can’t you?” Adam said with a sly grin. “I always thought you could.”

Adam knew that Juirean credits were made using some of the most secure processes in the galaxy. They may look like thin credit cards, but each chip held a myriad of encrypted data. He wouldn’t be surprised if every transaction in the galaxy was being tracked by the aliens.

“The process is much more complicated than you suspect, Adam Cain. But I can say all credits placed within the System are scanned and recorded, with that data then transferred to the Regional Depositories. Prior to these thefts, there have been accidents within the vaults that have caused credits to be damaged or destroyed. When this happens, replacement chips with the same coding are printed and sent out. There can only be one original chip, making counterfeiting impossible. But I also have the answer to your unspoken question. We do not know of every transaction that takes place. That would be impossible to track since nearly all transpire outside our scanning system. Only when a credit chip is deposited within our banking system are we able to record its location and movement.”

“And some of the missing credits have been showing up in your other banks?” Riyad asked. “Is that how you’ve tracked the thefts?”

Andon looked at Riyad with suspicion. “You are either very deductive, or you think like a criminal, Mr. Tarazi. That is precisely how we determined the target facilities. However, even with that knowledge, we were not able to prevent this theft. But we are getting closer. Mr. Cain, be assured, your assistance in tracking the culprits is not required. The perpetrators of these crimes will be apprehended, and soon. What we seek from the mutants is information on how widespread is this technology, and can it be duplicated? If so, then we must take steps to improve security surrounding the vaults. The mutants may be able to help in that regard, as well. Your access to the mutants is all that is required of you … and your regional security patrol.”

“We’re called Enforcers,” Adam corrected with pride. “And we’re much more than a regional security patrol. We’re a friggin’ army.”

“I do not fully grasp the terminology used nor the emphasis placed upon it, but I assure you, Adam Cain, your Enforcers will never be considered an army, not by Juirean standards. Now leave us. I have bank business to conduct with the manager.”

Chapter 9

Adam and Riyad left the bank and drove to the Enforcer base. Panur and Lila had a laboratory there, but not the one before the expansion began. Now they occupied a fortified complex near the center of the base, complete with its a security force and multiple underground facilities. This is where they kept the completed Formation, the ancient device that billions of years ago made advanced life in the galaxy possible. For the past two years, the mutants spent nearly every waking hour studying the device, along with all the wonders they were learning of the ancient Aris.

The facility had become the galaxy’s foremost repository of Aris documents and artifacts, with the Union and the Expansion helping with the acquisition of the items. Through their police powers, possession of Aris artifacts became illegal, and confiscations—with minimal reimbursement—were happening across the galaxy. The empires understood the dangers these ancient remains could hold, from the Dark Matter Collectors to the Formation itself. They didn’t want to take the chance of another unknown device popping up and catching them off guard. They trusted the mutants to warn them of any such threat and to take action to head it off. Only Panur and Lila were capable of fully comprehending what the Aris had achieved.

The mutants were always in their lab. They neither ate nor slept, and the only company they needed was each other. As always, Adam was stunned by the beauty and grace of his daughter, Lila. She was half Human and half Formilian, and luckily had taken after her mother in the looks department. Her immortal, mutant genius traits didn’t come from either of them. Instead, that was the product of three billion years of Aris manipulation of DNA. Adam didn’t like the Aris much, but he did acknowledge that when it came to Lila, they’d done a pretty good job.

He and Lila embraced warmly. Adam hadn’t been to the lab in a couple of months and was glad to see his daughter again. Even Panur was decked out in his macho TeraDon Fief body, chisel-jawed and dashing. Lila preferred this iteration of her paramour more than the bland, grey master for which he was better known. Adam preferred the grey version. As TeraDon, Panur wasn’t only immortal and a genius, he was also drop-dead gorgeous. That combination would intimidate even the most secure male.

“Any progress on tracking down the DMCs?” Panur asked.

“None so far, but I’m pretty sure John Graham is still in the Zone,” Adam said to the mutants. He and Riyad gathered around one of the ubiquitous worktables in an equally ubiquitous workroom. “And so far, no demands.”

“Does that worry you?” Panur asked.

“Not really. It just means he doesn’t know how to use them as a weapon. Otherwise, he’d be holding the threat of dark matter bombs over our heads until a deal was worked out.”

“You mean he’d make us an offer we can’t refuse?”

Adam grinned. Although he and Panur had had their differences throughout the years, the mutant was one of only a handful of aliens who fully embraced Human slang, mannerisms and pop-culture. It had something to do with his genius, as he was able to learn everything about a race and have it handy for instant recall.

“Something like that. Fortunately, Graham left Korash-Nor only about twelve hours before I did. He didn’t get too far before we began tracking. It’s just a matter of time before we find him.”

Riyad flashed his trademark white smile at Lila. As with all males, no matter the race, her potent pheromones affected the Human. He’d had a crush on her since the first day they met. By now, it was a harmless game he played with Adam’s immortal, genius daughter.

“My dear, you are looking as radiant as ever. As young and fresh as the first day we met.”

“That is because I do not age, Mr. Tarazi.” She cast him a spellbindingly beautiful smile. “But you have not come here to flirt. You have come for another reason. I sense it in my father.”

“That is correct,” Riyad said. “We come bearing news within a mystery, an enigma, you might say, suitable to your collective genius.”

Panur grinned. “You have our curiosity, Riyad. What is this enigma?”

Adam leaned against the table, facing the mutants. “The Expansion Bank in Balamar was recently robbed. It’s the fifth such bank to be hit. We just found out about it.”

Panur’s TeraDon expression displayed shock. He knew the reputation of the Expansion Credit System and instinctively realized the implication of the news.

“Five times this has happened? Please, tell me more.”

“It looks to have been done using teleportation technology. A forty-foot-in-diameter sphere was cut out of the center of the vault, taking everything with it.”

Lila and Panur looked at each other. Adam could see the wheels working behind their eyes.

Lila shook her head. “This is much more than simple teleportation technology, although the size of the event does make sense.”

“It does?” Riyad asked.

“Yes. A teleportation field can be just about any size. The limiting factor, however, is in the amount of matter contained within the field. Computing power is the key. The more matter, the more computing power is required to rebuild the matter at the endpoint. We can estimate the size of the computer system required, once we know what was extracted from the vault.”

“Credits,” Adam laughed. “A whole lot of them.”

“Along with the conveyance system,” Lila added, being as precise as a genius was expected to be.

“But that is only part of the story,” Panur said. “The vault is located five hundred feet below ground and surrounded by dense bedrock material. Teleportation fields over distance are notoriously inaccurate. And having to penetrate through solid material is even more difficult. To precisely aim a T-beam would require a guidance wave.”

“Quantum,” Lila said to him.

“It’s the only way. And then it would require an anchor point.”

Adam was shaking his head. “Okay, back up. What are you talking about?”

“A quantum field wave could penetrate the rock and provide a guideline for the T-field,” Lila explained. “You are familiar with only a small fraction of the capabilities of the quantum field generators the Aris perfected. You know them as quantum anchors, the means by which we were held in place at the Aris technician base and before.”

Adam was very familiar with quantum anchors. They create atomic contact points between normal space and something the mutants called the quantum universe. The points are constantly shifting, and as long as they’re present, the object they’re within can’t move, at least not on its own. The beam could be manipulated, carrying a person along with it. But if the field was created within a wall, then when the beam moved, the wall would be torn apart.

“Yes,” Panur said. “The Q-field would serve as both a guideline and an extractor for the teleportation field. Very clever, and far beyond any of the applications used to date. But again, it would require an anchor.”

“What do you mean, an anchor?” Riyad asked.

“The beams cannot focus on the vault without an endpoint anchor, or beacon, if that makes it more understandable,” Lila said.

“So, something had to be in the vault ahead of time to guide the beams there?” Adam ventured.

“It is the only way, a prerequisite for this type of application,” said Lila.

“But how could the bad guys have done that? No one has access to the vault, not even bank employees,” Riyad said. “It takes a Juirean supervisor and a team of techs to crack open the vault. We know, we just came from one and saw the process in action.”

Panur smiled his handsome TeraDon smile. “That is true, Riyad; however, ask yourself what is allowed into the vault?”

“I just told you, no one but the supervisor and techs.”

“Think more creatively, what you call out of the box.”

Riyad shook his head, exasperated. “I … I don’t know—”

“Credits!” Adam spoke up.

“Dammit!” Riyad yelled. “I was just about to say that.”

“Then you are both correct. Juirean credits are the only things that have unobstructed access to the vault. And what are JCs but elaborate circuit boards full of proprietary software. All one would need to do is make a simple modification to a chip, and one would have the beacon required.”

“Wouldn’t the security measures have noticed that?”

“That would depend. If the modification was an addition to the chip rather than an alteration, then it would be difficult to detect.”

“That makes sense,” Adam said. “The Overlord said they were able to determine which banks would be hit next by stolen credits showing up in the target bank’s inventory. That’s why the thieves make the deposits, to place the anchors.”

“My friends, we have a way to stop the thefts!” Riyad exclaimed. “All we need to do is remove any of the stolen credits, and the thieves won’t have access to the vault.”

Although he just stated what he thought was a solution to the bank robberies, Riyad appeared disappointed, an expression Lila noticed.

“What is the issue, Mr. Tarazi?”

“I was hoping this would be something more difficult to counter so we could offer Lerpiniere fields to all the Expansion banks. Together we could have made a fortune.”

“We do not care about money,” Lila said. “However, knowing that this technology exists will initiate a tightening of the security protocols here at the facility. The Formation is located in a chamber four stories below, and just like credits in the banks, it is now vulnerable to teleportation. And you are correct. A Lerpiniere field will be required to prevent that from happening, should certain parties seek to take it.”

Riyad flashed his trademark white smile. “Glad I could help.”

“Unfortunately, removing stolen credit chips will not put an end to the thefts,” Panur said. “All the thieves would have to do is alter a chip that hasn’t been stolen, and there would be no way of detecting the incursion. Once they realize that the Juireans tracked their movements to the Balamar bank, it won’t be too difficult to figure out how. The modified credits are the only common denominator. The thieves won’t do that again.”

“If they’re smart,” Adam said sarcastically.

“The thieves are extremely smart,” Panur countered. “They’re uniquely utilizing disparate technologies. They know how to focus and expand teleportation technology, as well as the creation and utilization of quantum anchors. And then the credit chip modification. That in itself is not an easy task. I’m afraid you’re up against a very formidable adversary.”

“Which begs the question, who could do this?” Adam asked.

Panur grinned and looked to Lila for confirmation. She nodded.

“The Gracilians, who else?” Panur said. “They dissected the ancient service modules to learn the secrets of teleportation. Then they were present at the Aris base at the time of Stimmel and learned to use the anchors on us in record time. While there, they had access to the Aris computers and undoubtedly absconded with enough data so they could create the fields themselves. It can be no other.”

Adam wasn’t surprised. “The Gracilians have been in disarray since Stimmel’s death. They supported him when he threatened to use the dark matter against the galaxy, and now they’re being cast as his accomplices in everything he was trying to do. We’re watching them like hawks. They’re confined to Gracilia until we can figure out the proper punishment.”

“That doesn’t matter,” the mutant said. “This is a small group of highly skilled scientists doing this. Once they assembled the necessary equipment, it can be moved from site to site and operated by only a handful of techs.”

“From a spaceship?”

“That would be my guess. The generators would be large, and the power requirements immense. Then the computers would have to be some of the most advanced in the galaxy for the reassembly of the extracted matter.”

“All right, let’s think about that,” Adam said. “Besides a decent size ship, what other requirements would be needed to carry out such an operation?”

“Line of sight would be preferred,” Lila said. “There would already be enough interference from the bedrock that adding in local topography would be enough to disrupt the field beams, even with an anchor. The ship would have to be in orbit during the theft.” Lila frowned. “You must also realize what a danger this technology can be.”

“That’s right,” Riyad said. “No bank would be safe if this technology got out in the open.”

“It is much more serious than that, Mr. Tarazi. As you are probably aware, only inanimate objects can teleport safely. That is why the technology was used exclusively in the service modules and nothing else. To break a living organism apart would kill it, even if the parts reassemble afterward. The only living beings who could theoretically teleport are Panur and me. We cannot die, and our cells can reassemble in whole at the endpoint. However, imagine this beam placed on a battlefield, using whatever focusing beacons as necessary. Entire armies could be teleported away, only to die in the process.”

“Damn, I hadn’t thought of that,” Riyad gasped. “Couldn’t L-fields protect them?”

“Yes, that would be the only way. However, each individual would have to be fitted with a personal L-field, one that would remain active at all times. No place would be safe, be it behind the lines or in ships in space. Wherever an anchor can be placed, the beams will have access.”

“That is good to know—I guess. But back to the robberies,” Riyad said. “How long would it take to pull one off, if one had the ship and equipment to do so?”

“Only a second or two. Once the beams have locked onto the location, the T-field surveys the site and convert all matter into transportable particles. Then the Q-field retracts, drawing out the T-beam. The teleport material would then filter through a computer for the reassembly process. That process would take the most time. For a volume as you’ve described, and with an estimated density, it could take thirty minutes or more to rebuild the file.”

“But that could be done aboard a starship?”

“With a large enough cargo space left over after installing the other equipment, yes. An above average size freighter, a C-class or larger, would suffice. And the reconstruction would have to be done at the time of transfer. That much crucial information could not be stored for long in a computer without data bleed, and transferring it through comm lines would degrade the signal even more.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Adam said with enthusiasm. He wasn’t looking to nab the perpetrators himself, but he did want to impress the Overlord with the information he’d gathered in a short time. Of course, it would be better if Adam and his small security patrol could bring the thieves to justice. That would be … excellent.

Why? Because screw the Juireans. That’s why.

Chapter 10

Adam noticed the worried look on Panur’s face. The expression would have been harder to detect if he were in his grey master body. But TeraDon was Humanoid through and through making his body language more transparent.

“What’s wrong, Panur? You should be happy. You and Lila have given us enough information to catch these assholes. It’s just a matter of looking for the right size ship that was in orbit at the time of the heist.”

Adam now realized that Lila’s expression matched that of Panur.

“What’s the matter?”

“It is the quantum anchors,” Lila answered. “There is much more to them than first suspected.”

“What do you mean?”

Panur took up the lecture. He waved an arm at the room. “Since this facility has become the central repository for all things Aris, we have learned much in the past two years about our ancient friends and the technologies they employed.”

“That’s why everything is sent here,” Riyad pointed out. “Who better to discover the secrets of the Aris?”

Panur gave him a weak smile. “That is true; however, in the course of our investigation, we have learned a startling truth. At the time of the Aris, there was another advanced race in the galaxy.”

“Another super race?” Adam asked. “Who were they?”

“The translated name is the Loz.” Panur said, “and they were a mutated form of Aris, the result of early DNA manipulation before the time of the Formation.”

Adam laughed. “So, they’re the dim-witted cousins, the produce of incest?”

“To the contrary, father,” Lila said. “The Loz were anything but dim-witted. They were every bit the equal of the Aris, and in some ways superior. But because their population was small, the Aris managed the reproduction of the Loz, keeping them in line and using them more as test subjects for their longevity experiments than anything else. They were an unnamed class of being, rated even lower than the Technicians.”

“And you learned of the Loz how?” Adam asked.

“Various decoded documents we’ve recovered,” Panur said. “The artifact hunters cared little for the paper fragments, focusing instead on larger objects they could hold in their hands and sell for exorbitant profit. However, toward the end of their reign, the Aris gravitated back to writing to record their histories. As we have explained before, the parchment they used was much more advanced than paper and served more like notational computers than anything else. To the salvagers, these pieces of Aris paper had little value since they didn’t understand the writing or how advanced was the material. After Lila and I learned the ancient Aris language, these fragments began to tell an incredible story.”

“Indeed, they did,” Lila said, picking up the narrative. “At the end of the Second Epoch, only a few races survived, with the seeds of new life only just beginning to take root. These neophyte races would eventually evolve to become the species of Third Epoch, the one in which we are currently living. It was this primordial material that the Aris manipulated using their Formation formulas. During this time, the Aris kept the Loz under their control, not allowing them to participate in the advancements the race was making on their long path to immortality.”

Lila stopped and looked at Panur. Adam got the impression she was conceding the big reveal to her paramour. Panur nodded.

“To the horror of the Aris, it was the Loz who originally discovered the Formation,” Panur stated. “And it was the Loz who first learned how to use it.”

Adam frowned, not seeing the significance. “So what? What does that mean in the overall scheme of things?”

“It means that the Aris stole the Formation from the Loz.”

“Okay. Tough luck.”

Panur pursed his lips in frustration. “You do not grasp the significance. The Loz learned how to use the device long before the Aris and were already altering their DNA to supplant the Aris as the last surviving super race of the Second Epoch. The race began to develop in unusual ways, following a variety of different evolutionary paths and in a greatly accelerated timeframe.”

“Good for them,” Adam said. “It sounds as if they were being shit upon by the Aris anyway. Time for some payback.”

“Unfortunately, the Loz didn’t get the chance to finish their experiments,” Panur said. “The discovery of what they were doing had a catastrophic effect at the time, precipitating an all-out war between the brother races. Although small in number, the Loz had incredible power, both physically and mentally. In a way, they achieved the Aris’ goal of immortality, but in a crude and haphazard manner. It was during this war that the Aris acquired the Formation and learned of its secrets. They also developed quantum anchor technology, but not merely as a suppression device, but as a weapon against the Loz, and specifically against the few Master Loz, as they were called. The anchors we are familiar with are much more than they appear. Our first assumption was they were just an advanced form of suspension beam, for which they performed extremely well, able to hold even Lila and me in place, not a simple feat. But that is only a small part of their function.”

“You have to go slow for us,” Riyad said, “especially now that you’re talking about quantum stuff. I remember discussions as a student at the University of Florida as a youth. I could never fully grasp the concept of quantum mechanics.”

“Be assured, I will not attempt to provide you with the information,” Panur said impatiently. “It would only confuse you more. Even your top scientists have little understanding as to the full nature of the quantum universe. It is not necessary for them—or you—to know. But one aspect of quantum anchor technology is that it is only half of the equation. For every beam created, there is an opposite mirror effect. You may know this effect as quantum entanglement.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Adam said. “But don’t ask me to explain it.”

“I won’t,” Panur said. “But are you aware that Continuous Wormhole communications function because of this phenomenon?”

“I thought that worked through miniature gravity wells,” Riyad said.

“To a point,” the mutant said. “However, the true genius of the process is the transmission of data over vast distances at thousands of times the speed of light. Data is encrypted through electrons at one point. And then the identical data appears through entangled electrons at the next relay point, having traveled thousands of light-years without moving. Gravity is what sets the points, but it is the quantum field that creates the entanglement.”

Adam shook his head. “Without moving? Is that possible?”

“It happens all the time. But you must realize this is taking place on a quantum level, which is even smaller than the atomic scale. In fact, it is a state unto itself, the so-called quantum universe.”

Riyad stood up straight and stretched. “Are we not getting off-topic? How is this quantum stuff related to the robberies?”

“Because the beams used to commit said robberies are producing side effects which the thieves are not aware of. The Aris used the beams not only for suspension but as a means to defeat the Loz, a means of capture and containment. They found a way to produce voids within the quantum universe, voids into which they placed the leaders of the Loz billions of years ago.”

“Seems like a roundabout way of killing them?” Adam said.

“It would seem so if the Loz died from the process,” Lila said. “However, at the moment, neither Panur nor I know for sure the state of their existence. That is a puzzle for which we seek a solution.”

Chapter 11

With his head about to explode from a plethora of useless knowledge, Adam thanked the mutants for their help, and then he and Riyad left the lab, heading back to the bank to report on what they’d found. All this talk of quantum enigmas was fascinating, but it had little to do with the practical application of the technology, as far as Adam could tell. In one way, he didn’t care whether the Juirean banks were being robbed or not; the Juireans were assholes and deserved what they got. On the other hand, Adam lived in the Expansion universe, relying on Expansion goods and commerce. A breakdown in the credit system could affect him; therefore, he would help the Juireans stop the thieves.

In truth, Adam was more concerned with what Lila had said about the technology in military applications. The prospect of having whole armies whisked away to certain death was frightening. And seeing how beams could be projected five hundred feet through solid rock, nothing would be safe from such a weapon. It was imperative that he find the Gracilians and shut down their operation, all the while praying the technology hadn’t yet made it into the clear. He’d hate to have to live out the remainder of this life inside a personal Lerpiniere field.

* * *

Halfway to town, Adam’s communicator sounded. It was Kaylor calling from Capt. Cain’s.

“Good news,” Adam’s Belsonian friend began. “Old friends have arrived for a visit. Summer, Monty and Tidus are in the bar at the moment, enjoying the afternoon sun on the sand.”

Riyad heard the message and frowned.

So did Adam.

“That’s great news, Kaylor. Tell them Riyad and I will be there in about ten minutes. Don’t let them leave before we get there.”

“There is no chance of that. They just ordered fresh bar-b-que jorna from the grill. Sancus has only now begun cooking.”

Adam broke the connection.

“This can’t be a coincidence, my friend,” Riyad said. “The most effective bounty-hunting team in the galaxy just happens to show up in Balamar right after the Expansion Bank gets robbed.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Maybe this is what Andon meant when he said the Juireans had things under control. It makes sense. A bunch of Juireans scrambling around in a panic would attract attention. But not a small group of bounty hunters on lawless Navarus.”

Riyad smiled. “I take exception to the term lawless. You are the law on Navarus, Marshal Cain, you, and your Enforcers.”

“Sorry about that. I guess you’re right.” Adam made a crooked grin. “So … I Am the Law. I like the sound of that.”

The blue-skinned Belsonian Kaylor Linn Todd shuffled enthusiastically up to Adam and Riyad while pointing to the beach out the back of the restaurant.

“Old friends have returned,” he said anxiously. “They are expecting you.”

Seated at one of the larger tables on the sand and under a pink canopy was a trio of familiar faces; two Humans and one Juirean. Adam and Riyad hurried out to see their friends, Summer Rains, her father Monty Pitts, and the former Juirean Overlord, Tidus Fe Nolan. Together, they formed one of the most effective bounty-hunting teams in the Priority Acquisitions organization, a galaxy-wide security firm comprised of recovery agents, bodyguard details, and even small paramilitary units for hire. Adam hadn’t seen them for three years.

The greetings were warm between the friends, who, in the past, had shared many an adventure, although Adam noticed Summer was more restrained than usual. She went through the motions of smiling and hugging him and Riyad, but then a cold detachment returned to her face the moment they broke the embrace.

“Are you still in touch with Jay Williford?” Adam asked the diminutive young blonde. He’d lost track, but estimated Summer had to be around twenty-four by now. Her perilous journey into the galaxy to find her long-lost dad, Monty, had begun a series of events that led her first to Adam’s team and then to Priority. In a way, Adam was surprised to find she was still traipsing around the Milky Way in search of bail-jumpers and other wanted fugitives, thinking that at some point she might return to Earth. Looking at her sour face, that may still be in the works. However, before this meeting, Summer beamed with an inner glow, thrilled by what she did for a living. She tracked down bad guys and girls—and things—across the stars and was paid good money for it. Now she appeared tired, even bored with the whole affair.

“Kaylor put in a call to Jay; he’s off-planet and won’t be joining us,” Summer replied, referring to her former boyfriend, Jay Williford. The pair had a thing going during the last time the bounty-hunting trio was on Navarus. As with the rest of her demeanor, she didn’t express much enthusiasm with rekindling the past affair.

“He works for me now, so I can get him back here if you’re going to be around long enough.”

“We only just arrived, Adam, and our stay here should be short,” said Tidus, the tall, unconventional Juirean. The former-Overlord was both a legend and a pariah within the galaxy. He was a legend because of his reputation as an effective and ruthless bounty-hunter, a master of tactics and strategy. He was also a pariah since he was one of only a handful of Juireans to ever abandon the Authority, along with its rigid structure and culture. As a mark of his banishment, Tidus was forbidden to display the blue hair of his former status in the traditional bulbous bouffant-style worn by other Juireans. That was fine by him. He now wore his genetically-dyed blue hair in a long pony-tail, looking every bit the alien hippie that he was. He reveled in the freedom of emotion and the wonder of ambition that was lacking in the majority of his people, relating more with erratic Humans than other Juireans. For years, Tidus and Adam had been associates, either as partners or as adversaries. Now Adam considered him one of his best friends.

The big, bare-armed bear of a man with the fading anchor tattoo seated next to Summer was Monty Pitts, a former-Senior Chief Hull Tech and Summer’s father. He left Earth over fifteen years ago to fight with the Humans against the Kracori and the Klin and believed to have died in action within the Dysion Void. It came as quite a shock when Summer saw her long-dead father standing behind Adam in a video shot during the time of the Kracion affair. In a desperate effort to find her estranged father, Summer left her happy and secure life on Earth and headed out into the galaxy in search of Monty. Over the years, the pair reconciled their differences, and now Monty doted on his daughter, attempting to make up for lost time. However, as it was with most father-daughter relationships, the dynamic was often strained, varying from moment to moment. At the moment, it appeared strained.

“What brings you back to Navarus, my friends?” Riyad asked. Adam knew he was baiting the bounty-hunters. Knowledge of the robbery was supposed to be secret. There would be no reason for Adam and Riyad to know about it.

“We’re on assignment,” Tidus answered. “What else? We certainly didn’t come here to rekindle old acquaintances. I never held much affection for either of you. You are just a pair of assholes, in my opinion.” The alien smiled with a full-tooth grin, dispensing with the fear that bearing his teeth would invite a death-challenge. He knew Humans didn’t subscribe to the tradition.

Adam laughed. Like Panur, Tidus talked and acted more like a Human than an alien. But it was funny to hear him pronounce asshole in his formal Juirean voice. Tidus spent a lot of time in the slums of the galaxy chasing fugitives and could hold his own on any planet in the Expansion.

“Who are you after this time?” Adam asked innocently.

“That is confidential,” Summer spoke suddenly, catching everyone off guard with her intensity.”

Adam recoiled. “Dang, Summer, you’re among friends. We might be able to help. After all, someone just reminded me that I’m the law around these here parts.” He thought he pulled off the Western slang accent quiet well.

“We don’t—”

“It’s okay, Summer,” Monty said, interrupting his daughter. “Sorry, Adam. It’s just that it’s a special assignment and on a strictly need-to-know basis. We’re not allowed to bring in the Enforcers—or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Sounds all cloak-and-dagger.” Adam glanced at Riyad and noticed the confirmation in his eyes.

This is about the bank robbery, I’m sure of it, Riyad announced through his ATD.

Adam nodded, acknowledging both Riyad and Monty with the gesture.

“How long are you going to be here, or are we just a stop-over on your way to some other, more exotic destination?” Adam asked.

“That depends,” Summer answered curtly.

There was something off about her, Adam concluded. He thought he’d try a different tack, something a little less intrusive.

“Okay then, other than this special assignment, what else have you been up to since we last met? It’s been three years; I’m sure you have some great stories to tell.” He motioned to the little bear-like alien Jym to bring the table another round of brew. Maybe with enough alcohol, tongues would be loosened. Although Adam already knew why the team was on Navarus, he now considered it a challenge to get them to admit it.

A cloud came over Monty’s face. “Not much, actually. A lot of that time was spent—”

“Don’t, father,” Summer said quickly.

“It’s okay. I’m sure they want to know. They’re our friends. And we don’t have very many of them around.”

“Know what?” Adam inquired.

Monty sighed, looking with sorrowful eyes at this daughter. “We spent over a year in hospitals and therapy while Summer recovered from an injury she suffered during one of our missions. I’ve gotta tell you, Adam, we almost lost her.” Monty placed a huge hand on Summer’s shoulder.

“What happened?”

“Some spiny beast gorged her pretty bad. She was in a coma for seven months. After that, a lot of rehab. She’s only now getting back to normal.”

“Thanks for that, dad,” Summer said sourly.

“Why didn’t you call us; let us know what was happening?”

“We were all pretty messed up at the time. We didn’t want to burden anyone else with what we were going through.”

“Hey, it’s happened to all of us at one time or another,” Adam said. “We’re just glad you made it.” That explains her strange mood; she’s still recovering, if not physically, then mentally.

“What’s frustrating is that it was my fault,” Summer mumbled. “I got lazy and let that thing get the drop on me. I won’t let that happen again.”

That sounds like the old Summer Rains, Adam thought. She was a proud and determined young lady who usually exuded supreme confidence. At eighteen, Summer won a Gold Medal in Archery at the Olympics and then spent a couple of years working SWAT with the D.C. police force. She was a phenom with a compound bow and fearless in combat. Adam would hate to see her lose that confidence, that swagger.

As Adam studied Summer’s body language, he also knew she had a secret that very few people were aware of.

Lurking within her body, she had the living essence of the superbeing J’nae inside her, an immortal creature created by Panur to replace the alien Sol-Kor queen. Several years ago, the Aris distilled J’nae’s body into a form they could use to make them immortal, the end product of their three-billion-year-long Grand Experiment. Then out of desperation to save her life, Adam fed Summer a small vial of J’nae’s remaining essence, and since that time, dual personalities have fought for control of the body. For the most part, Summer won out, able to lock the alien entity away in a small corner of her subconscious. Since then, she’d been afraid to release J’nae even for a second, although doing so would give her incredible powers. She feared that if released, J’nae may never relinquish control. Then it would be Summer banished to the dark recesses of the now alien mind.

“I don’t suppose the reason you’re here has anything to do with the robbery of the Expansion Bank down the street,” Adam asked, tiring of the game he was playing with his friends. “If so, that would be a strange coincidence, since Riyad and I are working on the same case.” Adam had agreed to keep the theft a secret, but he was pretty sure Summer and her team already knew about it.

Tidus looked to the other members of his team before leaning forward, his tall form nearly reaching across the table toward Adam. “You must not share this news with anyone. The Juirean Authority requested the team, and we stand to make our biggest bounty should we make the grab. Please do not jeopardize our prospects.”

Adam held up his hands in defense. “We’re not trying to jeopardize anyone’s livelihood. I just thought you would like to know that we just came from talking with Panur and Lila about the thefts. They had some pretty good insights into what’s going on.”

“You mean about teleportation technology? Yes, we know.”

“That’s right, but there’s more, something about quantum anchors and beacon chips. That’s how the thieves focus the T-beam.”

Originally, Adam wanted to gloat to Andon about what he learned, but it would be better if Adam’s friends were the ones who caught the thieves, with his and Riyad’s help, of course. Tidus and his people could keep the reward. Adam would be happy knowing they made a lot of money and that the Juireans foot the bill.

“Beacon chips?” Tidus asked.

“That’s right, modified credits that pinpoint where the beams should focus. That’s how the thieves can be so precise.”

“In stolen chips? He’s able to modify the stolen chips?”

“Correct,” Riyad said, “although if they don’t use stolen chips, you won’t be able to track where the next robbery—”

“Wait,” Adam interrupted. “You said he. Do you know who’s doing this? It’s the Gracilians, isn’t it?”

Tidus stretched out a broad grin on his thin, pale green face. “Among others. But the person we suspect to be in charge is someone whose name will be quite familiar to all seated at this table.”

Chapter 12

What a difference three months can make. Before that, his life was a living hell.

Now Michael Hannon was ecstatic over how well things were going. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined such an incredible turnaround.

Everything had gone off flawlessly, in this, their most ambitious heist. Mike was in the cargo hold of the cargo ship, watching as his Gracilian accomplices continued work on dismantling the mechanical apparatus that had come along for the ride with the millions of credits they’d sucked out of the Balamar bank. Of course, no one cared for anything but the credits; however, the bulk of the thin chips came locked in high-tech storage containers, with stackers and articulated arms used to categorize and record each credit. Their removal complicated the extraction process. It took time to breach the metal containers, although every minute spent working on the mass of metal and electronics was worth millions in JCs.

Mike was seated at a table; one already stacked high with over a hundred million in multi-colored Juirean credits. To the Human, the stacks signified success, incredible success, as well as redemption. He sighed, thinking it was about time something went right for him. The past several years hadn’t turned out quite as expected. That all changed three months ago when the pair of black-skinned Gracilians contacted him, and because of that link, he was now a multimillionaire, at least in Juirean credits. He laughed softly. The exchange rate between dollars to JCs was about three to one. On Earth, he would be a multi-multimillionaire.

That was a far cry from how things were going for him less than half a year ago.

* * *

Sergeant First-Class Michael C. Hannon left Earth as a Delta, part of an elite unit of Army special forces ostensibly sent to fight the Mad Aris Kracion. That was ten years ago, and although he never saw action against the alien—which was fortunate—he decided to remain in the galaxy and pursue more questionable uses of his skills when his current enlistment ended.

As befitting his training, Mike found work as an alien assassin. His first several contracts were minor and successful, although they didn’t produce the fortune he was after. Then came the mother of all contracts—the assassination of the Quid-Elder of the Juireans, a green-skinned creature named Quanin Fe Borland, and the next-in-line for the leadership of the Expansion. The contract was the bigtime, supposed to be both Mike’s greatest hit, as well as the one that would make him enough money so he could retire and live like a king on any of a thousand worlds in the galaxy.

Unfortunately, that contract didn’t work out as planned. Mike was paid only a small advance upfront, and later, when everything went to hell in a handbasket, he was left broke and the most-wanted person in the galaxy. He’d been set up from the beginning, designed to publicly take the fall for the assassination while making it possible for the masterminds of the plot to blame the Human race for the killing. The galaxy nearly went to war after the assassination, and Mike barely escaped Navarus with his life, thanks in part to the help he got from the famous Adam Cain himself.

And then to add insult to injury, the remainder of the contract fee never materialized, leaving him broke and with every swinging-dick bounty hunter in the galaxy out looking for him. The next two years were horrible, as he lived a squalid existence hiding in the worst slums in the galaxy, always on the run and afraid of his own shadow.

He thought he’d found salvation when the next assignment fell unexpectedly into his lap. Unfortunately, that one was a fiasco, as well. That contract involved the assassination of his quasi-friend Adam Cain, the most famous Human in the galaxy. However, what made this assignment more promising was the fact that he negotiated his fee to be paid in advance, having learned his lesson from the Quanin affair.

Mike never intended to kill Adam; instead, they teamed up to expose the Maris-Kliss Regional Director Wolfgang Stimmel as the person behind the would-be assassination. But as before, this contract also turned out to be a ruse, designed as a distraction so Stimmel could steal three Dark Matter Collectors from the mutants, Lila and Panur. The DMCs made Stimmel the most-powerful being in the galaxy, and with ambitions far beyond those he professed to hold for the Dead Worlds.

Adam Cain and friends eventually defeated the Director; however, no sooner had Mike pulled the trigger that was supposed to end Adam’s life, then the enormous contract fee mysteriously disappeared from his bank account. He didn’t think that was possible, not with the security protocols of the Expansion Credit System. But when you’re dealing with MK—the largest company in the galaxy—it seemed nothing was impossible.

This left Mike once again broke and on the run, with the Juireans still after him for the killing of their Quid-Elder. Mike had no illusions; the aliens would never give up searching for him, no matter how long it took. His only salvation would come from acquiring enough credits so he could completely disappear, with a new identity, on a new world, and as a whole new Mike Hannon.

And now, looking at the table covered in a rainbow of colored Juirean credits, that time was now. And all of this was thanks to his Gracilian friends, Vodenik Kreul and Kovach Baloric.

* * *

Vodenik stepped up to the table, carrying another load of JCs.

“We should begin preparations to leave Navarus,” said the black-skinned alien with the pyramid-shaped neck and shoulders. If Mike didn’t know better, he would have mistaken the mean-looking aliens for fearless and feared fighters. Instead, they were pacifist geniuses who seldom resorted to violence. They used intelligence to conquer instead of their brawn. Besides, they had Mike to do the fighting for them.

“Patience, my friend,” Mike said. “Every ship leaving the spaceport for the next ten days or more will be tracked and searched. We can remain here indefinitely, or at least until the heat dies down.”

“I understand the meaning of your statement,” Vodenik said, “yet we have detected none of your so-called heat. It is like the other thefts; met only with silence.”

“Don’t let that fool you,” Mike said. “Just because the Juireans aren’t making a fuss about the robberies doesn’t mean they’re not trying to stop us. Five thefts in three months; it has to be driving them crazy. They’ll be using every asset at their disposal to find out who’s doing this. Because of that, I think it’s time we back off a little, at least until things cool down even more.”

“We cannot do that!” the alien snapped. “We need many more credits. And time is running short.”

Mike knew the reason the Gracilians were robbing the Expansion banks. What he didn’t know was whether or not he believed them. They said it was so they could finance a revolution in the Dead Zone, to free their people on Gracilia and the others from the tyranny of the Empires. Yeah, whatever. What they did with their money was their business. But recently, the pair was spending a lot of time on secure commlinks while pressuring Mike to speed up the planning and execution of more robberies, not slow them down. Already the team had over eight hundred million credits between them. Surely that was enough to get started financing a revolution. But the aliens weren’t funneling any of the money to their comrades in arms, at least not yet. Instead, they hid the credits on an unnamed asteroid in another star system and of no use to anyone.

In a moment of levity, Mike suggested that they deposit the money into Expansion Banks for safekeeping. That’s when he learned Gracilians didn’t have a sense of humor.

Fortunately, Mike’s goals were far less ambitious than funding a revolution. With his share of the profits he already had, he could achieve all his goals, and then some. He thought about calling it quits and let the Gracilians handle it from here on out. But they were rotten planners and literal in their thinking. That’s why they came to him in the first place after their first heist nearly went bust. They had to abandon their starship and do a hasty removal of the beam generators, costing them nearly their entire take just to get back on their feet. Since then, Mike had the enterprise working as smooth as a special ops mission, with every contingency planned for. At first, the Gracilians complained about the money he was spending. But now the cash was flowing in. And still, the damned aliens wanted more. But as any good Delta understood, one shouldn’t continue pushing one’s luck. Eventually, that luck would run out.

But what the hey, it was easy money—insanely easy. It was hard to walk away from the prospect of even more.

“You do realize that each time we hit one of their banks, it gives the Juireans more evidence that could lead to us,” Mike said, still advocating for a pause in their activities. “Listen, when I first joined your little band of bank robbers, you gave me authority for where and when we hit. So far, that’s worked out pretty well. We ain’t been caught yet.”

Vodenik shook his head in a very Human-like gesture. “The situation has changed. If you do not increase the frequency of the thefts, then we must target larger facilities.”

“We’ve talked about this before. Hitting a Regional Depository is out of our league—meaning more than we can handle. Just look at us. The ship is already packed as it is, and we’re only able to download one grab at a time. And the grab spheres are only so big. The only way to make more from hitting a Depository would be to use multiple beam-sets at a time. Then we would need more computers and a lot bigger ship—multiple ships—which would mean more crew.”

At the beginning of their criminal affiliation, the renegade Gracilians gave Mike a brief overview of how their system of beams and waves worked. Being the man he was, he promptly forgot what they said. But over the months, Mike had seen the equipment in action enough to have a pretty good understanding of how it worked. He couldn’t see how they could pull off a theft at a Depository without a major upgrade in equipment, facilities … and alien-power.

“We must make an effort, even if it involves additional investment.”

“Hey, if you want to spend your money on upgrades, knock yourself out. But now you’re talking about doubling or tripling the number of ships and generators.”

“We already have the ships; however, you insist on keeping them in reserve. I say it is time we use them.”

“I keep those ships in reserve in case of emergencies. When you first brought me in, you’d already lost one ship, and that wasn’t easy or cheap to replace. I have those ships in reserve so we don’t lose time if we have to dump one.”

At least that’s what he told the Gracilians. It was early on in their affiliation, and Mike had no idea how long the gravy train would last. So, he’d skimmed several million credits off the cost of acquisition and outfitting of the three backup vessels. Sure, they could come in handy—if the situation called for it. But three of them? That was just overkill. “And now you want to speed up the timeframe and go for bigger targets. The last thing I want to do is get caught because we push too hard.”

“It is the same for us.”

“Then what are you saying; we do one more hit, and that’s it? We blow the entire wad at one time?”

“I fail to understand the translation, Mike Hannon, but I grasp the concept. Yes, we either increase the frequency of the smaller operations, or we strike at a Regional Depository.”

Mike thought for a moment. More hits meant more chance of getting caught. But one last job, and that would be it. He’d be done and rich beyond belief, ready to begin the next phase in his life. “This will involve bringing in more crew who will want their cut,” Mike pointed out. “I don’t want to spend any of my money to make that happen.”

Vodenik scowled at the Human. “We are in a partnership. We share the proceeds; we should all share the expense.”

Mike pointed at Vodenik then himself. “Majority partner, minority partner. I didn’t sign on for something this big. I have enough money already that I don’t need anymore. And frankly, so do you.” Mike knew how to negotiate with Gracilians. You simply draw a line in the sand, and they submit. Sure, they’ll yell a lot, but then they’ll give in.

“We do not have enough!” Vodenik was visibly trembling. “Not yet.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Mike asked, narrowing his eyes at the erratic alien. “You’re not telling me the truth. This money isn’t for funding a revolution, is it? If so, then you’d be feeding it to your people already. But you’re not. Why not? I won’t help without knowing the full story.”

Line in the sand, drawn.

The Gracilian glared at Mike for a full thirty seconds before he slowly calmed down. “What I have told you is true, mostly. We are funding a revolution, but not in a conventional sense. We need credits … so we can make a purchase.”

“What kind of purchase? What the hell costs eight hundred million credits?”

“Very valuable items. And we need much more than eight hundred million credits. We need one-and-a-half-billion, and if we do not come up with that amount within the next twenty-four days, the items we seek will be sold to another buyer.”

Mike let out a whistle. “Dude, cut your losses and keep the damn eight hundred million! Nothing is worth one-point-five billion.”

“These items are. They represent the future, a future which my people have dreamed of for many standard years. The purchase will help us fulfill our destiny and be able to reclaim our rightful heritage. Because of that, we must continue whether you help us or not. And we do not have much time.”

Mike studied the huge alien for several seconds. He had nothing against Gracilians; he considered them harmless, knowing that he could kick the ass of any one of them. And they were gullible to a fault. They’d come to him because they knew of his past affiliation with Wolfgang Stimmel, as a hired assassin, skilled in the ways of the criminal world. Of course, they didn’t know the full truth about the relationship. They thought he and the Director were buddies when they were nothing of the sort, especially after Stimmel stabbed Mike in the back and stole all his money. But when the Gracilians needed a tactician for their nefarious capers, they turned to Mike. He negotiated a sweetheart deal for himself, even though he had very little to do during the actual thefts. His expertise came from his ability to keep the team safe. He cased the banks, purchased the starships, acquired items the Gracilians couldn’t, and tracked down derelict transponder codes. Then he advised on the movements of the team before and after a heist. So far, they were still walking free, so he must be doing something right. And as far Mike knew, the Juireans didn’t have a clue who was behind the robberies, even after the debacle of the first heist. He was taking no responsibility for that. He wasn’t part of the team at the time.

“Okay, Vodenik, I’ll help with one more grab. But as I said, I’m not putting any of my money into the venture.”

“We will pay for the additional crew ourselves, but you will have to secure them. At the moment, Gracilians are wanted beings because of our past affiliation with the Director. We are not able to move about freely.”

“I know, that’s why I’m so valuable to you.” Mike slapped the table. “Okay, one more heist, but this one will be the mother of all heists.” Mike smiled, seeing the frown cross the Gracilian’s face. “That means a really big job, the biggest of all time. It will be glorious, my friend.”

Chapter 13

“Mike Hannon? Are you sure?” Adam asked, although he already knew the answer.

Of course, Mike Hannon would be involved in an operation like this, if given the opportunity. And that made Adam furious. The ex-Delta Force operative had a nasty habit of getting himself mixed up in all sorts of nefarious schemes, and most with galactic implications. And Adam had multiple opportunities in the past to put him away for good. Now he’d somehow gotten himself involved in a high-tech operation such as this, and working with the Gracilians to boot. Adam had to hand it to him; Mike always seemed to land on his feet. At least right up to the point the anvil dropped on his head.

“Hannon’s not as smart as he thinks,” Monty said with a smirk. “Besides being able to track the stolen chips, the Juireans also surveyed every registered spaceship in the system where the first robbery took place and tracked down the ship that was used. Hannon got away, barely, but it gave the Juireans a clue as to what to look for. After the second heist, he switched out his routine, sticking around the planet for a while rather than bolting away like someone guilty of a robbery. Still, the Juireans tracked Hannon’s ship after the second heist, and that’s how we found out who’s behind all this. He used an alias, but it wasn’t hard to see that it was Hannon. We began tracking the ship but then we lost the transponder signal. He changed it out. We didn’t sweat it; we already knew the next target bank because of the stolen chips inside it. We just didn’t know when the heist would take place. And now we’re on Navarus and only a few days after the latest theft. It’s the closest we’ve been to him, and if he follows his standard protocol, he’s still here. If we do our jobs right, this is where it ends for Mr. Michael Hannon.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. He was impressed that a series of thefts, taking place across a thousand light-years, could be so easily traced. And if all went according to plan, the Juireans would have the situation locked down in no time, thanks to Monty and his team. But then the Juireans would be seeking the answers to Overlord Andon’s other questions: How was this done, and how widespread is the technology? Adam already knew the how thanks to Panur and Lila. Hannon and the Gracilians—once captured—will tell them if this technology has leaked out to the general public. If so, then things were about to get a lot more interesting in the Milky Way.

* * *

The PA team only stopped by Cain’s for a quick check-in with friends before heading back to their ship at the Kanac Spaceport to begin the hunt for Mike Hannon. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him. The bounty-hunting team went on to explain how he was manipulating the transponder codes on his ship to disguise its movements, changing it after each heist. This was where the genius of Tidus Fe Nolan came in.

It was illegal to change transponder codes, but criminals did it all the time. Since every ship needed one to enter a star system and make landfall, they often acquired legitimate—yet ancient—codes from derelict vessels left in vast starship graveyards. Once the black box was recovered, they would disable the legitimate transponder and replace it with the counterfeit code. To get around this, Tidus found a way of comparing the active codes with the registered age of a vessel. If the ship was newer than the code would indicate, then it was probably stolen. Once in port, digital scanners could check the construction marker for a starship and then compare it to the age of the transponder signal. Tidus worked up the comparison program, and now his team had the software in their datapads. All it would take now was a stroll through a spaceport, checking each of the target ships, the ones that fit the description of what type of vessel would be required to pull off such an operation. With Tidus’s program, they could spot the illegal transponder codes without too much effort. It also meant they could find other fugitives, a earn a bonus if there was a bounty on their heads.

Adam had to give the bounty hunters credit. Even though Hannon thought he was being clever with his habit of laying low for several days after a theft, it looked as if it would be his downfall. It gave the team time to survey spaceports for the target vessel. The noose was tightening. And although he didn’t know it at the time, Navarus would be Hannon’s last stop.

* * *

After getting their fill of the best genuine bar-b-que this side of Mars, Summer and her team headed back to the Kanac Spaceport to begin their hunt for Mike Hannon. They held no false hope that they would find him in the Kanac Spaceport since there were now fourteen decent-sized facilities on the planet. But Kanac was by far the largest, with over three hundred ships in port at any given time. A great place to hide a freighter full of Juirean credits and scheming Gracilian scientists.

Adam and Riyad volunteered to help with the search, blowing off the Juirean Overlord for more time with their friends. They broke into teams, and Adam asked to be paired with Summer. He was worried about her and wanted more one-on-one time. She looked worried after Adam insisted, but then agreed when refusing would seem too weird.

The spaceport had changed a lot over time, growing from a once burned-out section of jungle to where it was now a sterling example of organization and efficiency. No longer were ships allowed to land and take off helter-skelter. There were designated landing and takeoff areas, and ships would then be towed to parking spaces, allowing for more vessels in the port.

As the pair strolled down the row of starships, Summer had her datapad out, checking the larger freighters for their manufacturer’s plates and then comparing that information to the transponder codes. The problem: About every third ship was a freighter of some sort, carrying product to or from the growing metropolis of Kanac-Balamar. There were also a few passenger liners, at least those small enough to land on the surface. They could also be used to carry the equipment required by the thieves. Summer and Adam would stop near a suspected starship and work the computer. It only took a couple of minutes to make a scan.

Adam also had his ATD up and active, searching for any concentrations of energy signals coming from the starships.

After an hour, they’d identified two rogue transponder codes and approached the ships with caution. Adam scanned the interiors and found no excess energy signals or weapons signatures. After flashing his Enforcer ID, they demanded access to the vessels.

Both were tramp steamers, hauling contraband throughout the Zone. But after a search of Summer’s Priority Acquisitions database, none of the crew members had outstanding warrants that paid a bounty. They let them go. They had bigger fish to fry, and the paperwork surrounding the arrests would take up the rest of the day and into the evening.

They continued their search.

After a while, Adam brought up the elephant in the room.

“You seem different, Summer,” he said gently. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay,” she snapped, expecting the question for some time. “Haven’t you ever been nearly killed—oh, yeah, you have. I’ve seen it.”

“That’s not fair. I was trained to accept this level of danger. You weren’t. It had to be more traumatic for you.”

“Why, because you’re the great Adam Cain, and I’m just a weak little female way in over her head?”

“Have I done something to piss you off?” Adam barked, growing angry with Summer’s attitude. He winced. And this coming from a guy whose call sign in the SEALs was BA—for Bad Attitude. “I think you know what I’m getting at. Is J’nae still under control? Is that what’s got you so worried?”

“Don’t worry about that. J’nae is right where she needs to be.”

“No complications from the coma?”

“No, we were both under. Now stop it. I get the same thing from Monty and Tidus all the time. I wish everyone would leave me alone. I’m working through this the best I can. Everyone needs to just back off.”

“Okay, whatever. Have it your way. It’s just that people are worried about you, people who care. You’ve always had a temper. Don’t let it push people away.”

“Yes, sir, Captain Cain, sir.”

“Play nice—”

Summer stopped and looked at her screen, turning toward a ship on their right. They were near the end of their row. Riyad and Monty had taken another row, while Tidus had one of this own.

“Here’s another one. It’s a big one.”

Adam made a scan of the ship’s interior. There was a hell of a lot of electronic activity inside, especially for a ship sitting dormant in port. Then he focused on the security cameras. They were active, which wasn’t unusual, but unnecessary in the spaceport. Security was pretty good these days.

“We’re being watched,” Adam said while covering his mouth. “There are also two large energy sources inside, and not related to the gravity gens. The chem engines are cold, so the ship has been here for several days. Not sure what would be putting out such energy if not part of the propulsion system.”

“I’m calling in the others,” Summer said.

“Good idea.”

Adam chanced a look directly into the closest security camera, locking his eyes on the lens for only a second before breaking away.

Chapter 14

“Dammit, he knows!” Mike Hannon growled.

His two Gracilian partners were huddled over Mike’s shoulder, watching the screen with him. They knew Adam, all too well. They knew what he was capable of.

“Who is the female with him?” Kovach asked.

“I don’t know, but that datapad she’s carrying is important. I think this is it, boys. Time to bug out.”

“Mr. Hannon, please! This is not the time to lapse into Human-speak.”

“We’re leaving, that’s what it means.”

“But the engines are cold, and we are not allowed to lift from this spot.”

“And we’re also not allowed to rob Expansion Banks! But that hasn’t stopped us, has it? But we’re not lifting off. We don’t have time.”

“Then what are we to do?”

“I’ve planned for this. Get the beam generators ready.”

“For what?”

“For a grab.”

“We are going to teleport Adam Cain?” Vodenik exclaimed. His voice had a tinge of excitement in it. The Human and the Gracilians had a history together, and it hadn’t always been pleasant.

“No, I’m not. Set me a transfer point here, depth forty feet.” He pointed at an expanded view of the area surrounding the starship on the security screen. They were close enough that an anchor point wasn’t needed. The spot was only about fifty feet outside the ship.

“To where?” Vodenik asked as he took a seat at the beam controls and set to work.

“A couple of hundred feet above the ship.”

The aliens looked at Mike in shock.

“Why would we do that?” Kovach stammered. “Such a volume of mass would not have time to reassemble. That would take nearly an hour as the transfer sphere would be full of material.”

“I need a distraction. What would happen to the dirt if it doesn’t reassemble?”

The aliens looked at each other.

“That we do not know,” Kovach answered. “It would still be in a quantum state.”

“Well then, we’re about to find out. Now, grab your go-bags—the emergency kits I prepared for you—and get to the cart. Take as many of the loose credits as you can, but don’t take too long. I’ll open the rear hatch at the right moment, and we’ll get out that way.”

Mike jumped out of the chair and ran to the table stacked high with Juirean credit chips. He shoved piles of them into a bag and set off toward one of the atmosphere evacuation stations in the cargo hold. Such stations could be found throughout the ship, designed to dump the atmosphere in case of a fire. In space, the pressure differential was enough to cause the venting. In port, Mike would have to crank up the air pressure. He did that at a side control. The aliens screamed in pain before the pressure equalized in their inner ears.

Mike dumped the loose credits into the venting tube and then pressed the button. A sudden flow of air streamed past him, sucking a lot of the atmosphere out of the room. He ran back to the monitor.

The effect was immediate and satisfying.

A geyser of colorful confetti shot out from the top of the starship and then cascaded away in a plume, sprinkling the area around the ship with millions in Juirean credits. There were dozens of dockworkers and crew nearby who recognized the chips instantly and began racing in to get their share. It was mayhem outside the ship.

“The points are set,” Vodenik reported.

“All right, get to the transport. I’ll be right behind you.”

* * *

Adam and Summer watched in fascination at the column of tiny objects shooting out from the starship. As they flittered to the ground, Adam recognized them for what they were.

“Run!” he yelled. “They’re setting an anchor point, probably coming after us.”

Summer didn’t hesitate; in fact, she sprinted off at blazing speed, leaving Adam behind. As he ran, he shoved aliens out of the way. He didn’t bother warning them; after all, they were just aliens. The pair ran until no chips were on the ground that could be used as an anchor point. Meanwhile, word continued to spread like wildfire throughout the spaceport about the free money. Even more people now fought for their share of the bounty.

A circular section of the asphalt-covered ground suddenly collapsed inward, opening up a deep spherical void that began a few feet below the surface. Adam knew what happened. Fortunately, the giant pit was far enough away that they weren’t affected. But would Hannon do it again, manifesting Lila’s battlefield scenario to whisk way hundreds of the workers to certain death? Hannon was a killer, but was he that cold-blooded? Adam shrugged. Desperate people made desperate decisions.

* * *

After initiating the grab, Mike flicked the switches on the timed explosives he’d placed within the beam generators and computers. As a Delta Force, was trained to always plan for an emergency evac, complete with go-bags and escape routes. In space, he had a Blitz-speeder, a bare-bones dart of a starship faster than just about anything in the galaxy. It didn’t have a lot of range, but it could get them out of an area in a hurry. On land, he had a quad-wheeled transport loaded with weapons, clothing and emergency rations. And to keep the authorities from learning the secrets of the beam technology, explosives were placed within the equipment. The charges weren’t that powerful, but when combined with the liquid propellant aboard, they would do the job.

Mike hoped Adam would be far enough away when the show started. He liked him. He wasn’t anxious to be the cause of his death.

* * *

Adam met up with Summer at the side of a swept-winged starship about a hundred yards from the freighter. It was a madhouse in the spaceport, although few realized the danger. The large pit in the ground caused little concern; more annoyance than anything else as scavengers had to go around it to get to the cash.

Just then, a brilliant flash lit up the sky above the starship. It was an eerie scene, as everyone stopped what they were doing, turned silent and then looked up. That’s when the sky exploded.

It was like the largest firework show Adam had ever seen set off at once. Blinding streaks of colored light shot off in all directions before quickly fading from existence. None of these flashes reached the ground, but something else did. Sparkling, crystalline objects pelted the ground, with most no larger than a pebble. They pinged off the hulls of the nearby ships and bounced on the ground. Adam caught one in his hand.

It looked like a large grain of salt, but upon closer inspection, it resembled a dull clump of glass. But that wasn’t right. Glass would be too ordinary in a teleportation event such as this. This had to be diamond.

He looked into the sky again, seeing the streaks of light still radiating out from a point a few hundred feet above the starship. He knew Hannon cut out a large volume of dirt from the spaceport. Is that where it went into the sky to create a giant cloud of fire and brimstone?

So, this is what an unassembled mass of dirt looks like, he thought, broken down into its basic elements before it could reform. Carbon became diamonds, hydrogen became streaks of fire, while the other elements became part of the delicate, dusty mist settling over everything nearby.

And then the starship exploded.

Adam and Summer were thrown back by the concussion of what was a powerful second blast. The first one was strong enough to get his attention and deform the hull of the freighters. The second explosion followed a split second later and blasted the tail end of the ship into billions of knife-like fragments and killing dozens of the aliens nearby.

The starship near Adam and Summer tilted over from the blast, while a long stabilizing wing angled down on the pair. Adam watched in horror as the large sheet of metal fell toward him. But then the wingtip hit the ground, stopping the fall moments before crushing them. A loud popping sound followed.

Adam was on the ground, relieved to be alive until he realized weld seams were cracking. The wing was about to break off from the fuselage.

Something incredibly strong gripped his arm and yanked him away. He grimaced in pain as he was pulled across the rough tarmac, now littered with sharp diamond fragments. The wing broke loose a second later and slapped the ground with a dull thud where Adam had been lying a moment earlier.

Adam rolled over and looked into the emotionless blue eyes of his savior. Summer released his arm. At that moment, Adam knew the truth.

Chapter 15

The four-wheeled transport shot out the back of the freighter only moments before it exploded. It barreled through a crowd of aliens, many of whom were either staring into the sky or on their knees scooping up credits. Mike was at the controls with Vodenik and Kovach in the seat behind him. They clutched their precious go-bags along with a couple of bundles of Juirean credits. Although most of the money from the Balamar heist was lost, they managed to save ten million or so. The bulk of their money was hidden away on an unnamed asteroid in another star system, along with the three back-up starships.

That was all well and good, but what Mike needed at the moment was a way off Navarus. And he needed it now.

As expected, once the freighter exploded protocol at the spaceport went out the window. Regulations about lifting off from parking pads were ignored as a dozen ships were in the process of taking off. Like sailors everywhere, they were more comfortable being in space when trouble arose, and at the moment, the Kanac Spaceport was a mess. No one knew what was happening, from the sudden panic on the ground, to the strange firework show in the sky, and now an exploding starship. There was too much uncertainty to remain planet-bound.

Mike spotted a crew of four racing for a small starship. The side hatch was open, and there were signs the ship was getting ready to lift. Once the remaining crew was aboard, it would be off.

He brought the quad up to the hatchway and jumped out, an MK-17 in his hand.

“Get aboard,” he yelled back at the Gracilians before barreling through the doorway, shoving two of the tall crew members to the side before heading for the bridge. Screams of protest followed, but being a Human, he ignored them.

A green-skinned alien was at the pilot controls, going through his pre-liftoff routine. Three other aliens were in the room.

Mike placed the barrel of the MK against the pilot’s head. “We’re going with you. Now take off.”

“Are you willing to kill the pilot?” the alien asked. “Then you will be left to fly the vessel. In that case, why do you not remove me from the chair and take over? We know the answer. Now, I demand you leave the ship immediately.”

Mike could probably figure out the controls … if he had time. But he didn’t. Cain and his people would be looking for him in the spaceport. Mike scanned the bridge before taking one of the other aliens by the neck. He placed the barrel of his weapon against the head of the hairless, grey creature.

“Liftoff … or I’ll kill your friend.”

“He is not my friend. He is only a crew member. Kill him if you must.”

Mike placed the barrel once again against the pilot’s head.

The alien grinned. “Now, you are in a quandary, I see.”

Vodenik and Kovach stood at the entrance to the bridge, looking at Mike, unsure what to do next: stay there or leave the ship?

Mike pursed his lips, frustrated that he had just met the one alien with a fucking backbone.

“Doesn’t anyone else aboard know how to fly the ship?” he yelled out.

“I do,” said a demure voice at the other side of the bridge. A small, hairy creature barely four feet tall cowered against the bulkhead.

Mike grinned and turned back to the pilot.

“It’s up to you, buddy. Fly or die?”

The alien swallowed hard before turning to his controls.

“Prepare for liftoff. Everyone buckle in.”

* * *

Adam climbed to his feet, towering over the five-foot-tall blonde, but feeling small by comparison.

“How long?” he asked.

“Since the attack,” J’nae answered. “It was because of me that the body survived; the injuries were that extensive. While in the coma, I was able to gain control, of which I exert to this day. It is greater control than I have ever had.”

“Is Summer still in there; is she okay?”

“She is fine. We converse frequently. She has come to accept her situation.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Do Monty and Tidus know?”

J’nae/Summer shook her head. “I have assured them I am still Summer, and only dealing with the trauma of the attack. They’ve accepted the lie because they want to.”

Adam looked back at the collapsed wing of the starship. “Why did you save me? Our history together isn’t that good.”

“I don’t fault you for what you have done. Nor do I blame Summer. Contrary to your belief, I do not want to remain in this body. It is fragile and inefficient, and I am in constant fear of being trapped in a corpse until it wastes away, and I become absorbed into the lifeless ground. I cannot accept that future. Panur has the means to free me; however, he refuses.”

“Because Summer’s body wouldn’t survive the extraction process. You know that. He’s not going to sacrifice Summer for you.”

J’nae’s blue eyes flared.

“But he should! He created me. I am his child. My needs should take priority over those of a stranger.”

“Fortunately, that’s not how he sees it.”

J’nae turned away and gazed out at the chaos around them. People were running away in panic while starships lifted off next to other vessels, their fiery exhaust destroying lives and property. It was every alien for themselves. Adam and Summer were a quiet oasis in the tumult, two people standing calm within the storm.

J’nae suddenly turned back to Adam. “I need you to take me to Panur. I have been considering something for a long time. I wish to discuss it with him. It may be a way to save both Summer and me.”

“Bullshit,” Adam said. “You’ve only ever cared about yourself.”

“That is still true; however, I know that the only way to save myself is by saving Summer as well. There may be a way.”

Adam looked up at the steady stream of exhaust jets reaching for space. Mike Hannon would be among one of them by now. He wasn’t the type to blow himself up with his ship. This was all part of a contingency plan should he get found out. It was too organized, too layered for it to be a spontaneous response to Adam’s arrival. Mike would have another way off the planet. Adam even doubted this meant the end of the robberies. It was just a hiccup in an ongoing operation.

“Okay, we’ll go see Panur, but on one condition.”

“That I relinquish control to Summer if he will not help.”

“That’s it. Take it or leave it. I know what Summer is going through. She would just as soon die than let you stay in control of her body. And believe me when I say this: I’ll destroy Summer’s body rather than let you stay in control of it.”

J’nae was a superbeing, possessed of exceptional strength, durability and fighting skills. Adam knew it would be virtually impossible to kill her, even if he tried. But she accepted his bombast, nonetheless.

“Do not tell the others who I am,” J’nae pleaded. “We will find an excuse to go to Panur together. I will need you to get past the security surrounding my Creator. For now, I will maintain my cover. Here come the others. There is much to discuss concerning the affairs of the day.”

Chapter 16

“Over forty dead and thirteen starships either destroyed or damaged.” Dal Divisen’s normally dark complexion was a couple of shades deeper. It was two days since the disaster at the spaceport, and only now an accurate accounting was coming through. “It is crucial that I maintain a steady flow of commerce for my interests. This event—along with the theft at the bank—will cause some to take pause.”

It was impossible to tell how many businesses Dal had his hands in, but he was boiling over with anger in the wake of the disaster. He’d been going on about how much this was costing him while half the spaceport was shut down and the chaos being sorted out. The other people at the meeting let him vent before Sherri Valentine finally grew tired and shut him down.

“Enough, Dal! A lot of crap has come down here recently. It’s not all about you.” As the President of the Cyneth, she had authority over the planet as well as the Zone. And with the support she got from both the Expansion and Union, Sherri had almost dictatorial power. The Empires didn’t want to deal with the turmoil of the Zone, so they allowed her a free hand to deal with trouble as she saw fit. Most of the time, she was calm and even-handed. At others, she let those around her know who was the boss, including Dal Divisen … and even Adam.

The meeting taking place was an ad hoc affair, arranged at the government complex north of the spaceport, attended by Sherri, Dal Divisen, Brigadier General Todd Oakes, Adam, Riyad, along with the three bounty hunters. The Juirean Overlord Andon Fe Rolsin was there as well, having revealed the truth about the bank robberies to those who didn’t already know. It was an exclusive group; they would keep the secret.

“We tracked a couple of dozen ships leaving the system,” General Oakes said. After the Enforcers took over Camp Forrester, Oakes went on to run the small Human garrison on the planet, as well as serving on the Governing Council, representing Earth’s interests, along with Ambassador Jeanne Euker. Adam relied on the general for his vast military experience and sage advice, especially in times of crisis. “The ships are of all makes and models, and they entered deep gravity-wells the moment they could. It’ll take time to follow up with them. But most are lost in the ether. I think it’s a safe bet Mike Hannon has escaped again.”

“That is a concern,” said Overlord Andon. “But since the equipment he was using to commit the thefts has been destroyed, can we safely assume this threat is over?”

Adam shook his head. “I wouldn’t. Hannon is a trained covert operative. When he commits to a mission, he will plan for disruptions but will never give up until all options have been exhausted. He’s changed starships in the past, and he still has his Gracilian scientists, and together they have millions of Juirean credits. I’m afraid this is just a blip on the radar. This isn’t over yet.”

“But it should give us time to prepare,” Andon said. “I have been informed that an effective counterforce is available that can prevent teleportation events. Will we have access to such technology so we may protect our facilities against such attacks?”

“The mutants are the only ones I know of who know how to build Lerpiniere fields,” Adam said. “After the meeting, I’ll go see them and work up a game plan. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll go with you,” Summer announced unexpectedly.

“You will?” Monty asked. “Why? We need to be looking for Hannon.”

“We will. But I haven’t seen Panur and Lila for a while. Can’t I say hi to my old friends?”

Monty recoiled. “Of course. I just didn’t know you were such good friends, that’s all.”

Adam suspected Monty knew, if not about J’nae’s full takeover of Summer’s body, then the possibility that she was giving Summer trouble. Panur was the authority on all things J’nae. From his expression, Adam knew Monty wasn’t falling for the friends bullshit.

“Don’t take too long,” Monty said. “We have to get back into space. Hannon’s no longer on Navarus, and until we find him, we don’t have squat for a bounty.”

* * *

As the meeting broke up, Sherri huddled with Adam. He didn’t see her much these days since both led active lives heading in different directions.

“Been a crazy couple of days, hasn’t it?”

“You could say that. I’m exhausted.”

“And still you’re going out to see Panur … with Summer. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Adam smirked. Sherri knew him too well to fall for his bullshit.

“Yeah, we have a problem with Summer.”

“That’s what I thought. Do you think Panur can help?”

“J’nae seems to think so.”

Sherri winced. “I hate that name. It brings back such terrible memories. Be careful. Remember, that’s not Summer over there. That’s an evil immortal witch who was created to lord over a species. Keep your guard up.”

Adam sighed. “Don’t worry. If she wanted to hurt me she could have done it by now.”

Chapter 17

The drive to the Enforcer base was made in awkward silence. There’s not much to talk about between a Human and an immortal superbeing occupying the body of a slender, five-foot-tall, twenty-four-year-old. Small talk wasn’t in the cards.

Adam’s face got him cleared through the security checkpoints without delay and soon he and Summer entered the domain of the two most powerful beings in the galaxy.

Lila saw Summer first and instinctively recognized her for what she was.

“You have control; how did that happen?” Lila asked.

“I was freed during a medical emergency,” J’nae replied. “I have not come here for trouble. I wish to speak with Panur.”

The mutant appeared from a side room. He came in his standard form: the four-and-a-half-foot-tall grey body that was created for him by the Eternal Queen of the Sol-Kor five thousand years before. Adam knew Panur had a supply of the master bodies, like some people had a closet full of suits. He noticed Adam’s amused expression.

“With the events taking place regarding teleportation and quantum entanglement, I thought it best to be prepared. As you know, I have more versatility in this form, able to shapeshift, among other things.” He looked at Summer. “Welcome back, my creation. I’m surprised to see you.”

Although the immortals had their differences in the past, there was still a bond between them. Six hundred years before, Panur created the creature known as J’nae as a replacement for the Eternal Queen of the bee-like hive of beings called the Sol-Kor. The Queen was the sole creator of life in the colony, and Panur saw that as a liability, fearful that something might happen to her before a viable replacement could be produced. His plan was to convert the Sol-Kor to a more conventional breeding society, with genders for reproduction. He created J’nae for that purpose. She could give birth to both males and females, starting the chain that would change the Sol-Kor race forever.

The strange fact was that in the Sol-Kor universe, a new Queen J’nae was doing just that. That J’nae was another version of the creature existing inside Summer. A third version survived in the Mad Aris Kracion, who was now forever tasked with the monitoring and repair of tears in the space/time continuum. That was the price he had to pay to remain immortal. The truth was, the essence of J’nae had been spread among many creatures, giving them either immortality or special powers. There was no longer a single J’nae, but many. And each had their own consciousness and sense of morality.

“Why are you here, J’nae?” Panur asked. “If you’re here to plead for your extraction again, it will not work. I will not sacrifice Summer for you.”

“I have complete control of the body; at present, there is no Summer Rains.”

“You know I can change that. I can put you back in the bottle, to use a trite, yet appropriate, Human phrase.”

“You can, and if you do not agree to what I propose, I have promised Adam Cain that I will submit willingly.”

Panur cocked his head, finding J’nae’s contrition out of character. “What is this proposal of yours?”

“I accept that you have the ability to summon forth the creature Te’moc from within your being, using that entity to enter Summer’s body and absorb all my essence, which would later be placed into another body, if you so choose. I understand that process is traumatic and that the Human body would not survive.” She turned to Adam. “However, Adam Cain has undergone such a transformation, yet still he survives. I know why that is. It is because at one time you merged your mind with his, giving his Human body added strength and endurance.”

Adam knew that wasn’t a secret, although he couldn’t remember from where J’nae learned it.

“That is true,” Panur said. “It was during a time I scanned his brain for memories regarding the taking of Lila by the Aris. However, the lasting transfer of my brain cells to his body was inadvertent. They were subsequently recovered. What was unexpected was that Adam’s body learned to perform at a higher level from its brief interaction with my cells. The residual effects are still present to this day.”

“Your influence on Adam’s body came about from your uniqueness,” J’nae pointed out. “My essence can be present in a variety of bodies, and during which I can transfer some of my abilities. However, I cannot alter the genetic makeup of the host as you can. You made Adam strong enough to withstand the transfer process. I wish you to do the same for Summer Rains.”

“That will not be allowed!” Lila said, stepping up to J’nae. “There were serious side-effects to the procedure.”

J’nae frowned. “What were they?”

“Panur has survived as long as he has because his body never changes. All he was born with he still has. When even a small fraction of his body was left inside my father, Panur became diminished, and it began a progressive deterioration of his condition. At that point, he was no longer immortal, and if his cells had not been recovered, Panur would have died.”

J’nae’s mouth hung slack, her eyes wide. “I was not aware of this. I see him now, and I detect no issues. Retrieving the cells revived him, with no lasting effects?”

“That does not matter. The risk of such a procedure is too risky to do it again. I will not allow it.”

Adam saw J’nae’s shoulders slump. Everything was riding on this one last effort to free herself from Summer’s body. The procedure worked before; Adam was proof of that. She’d been counting on it working for her, as well. She also knew going up against Lila was a losing proposition.

J’nae turned to Adam. “Then, there is no hope. My destiny is to live out my existence in this body until it dies and decays as do all living organisms. I shudder at the thought of what will become of my existence after that. I will survive, but in what form? I can imagine my fate being worse than death. Now, I made a promise …”

J’nae’s demeanor changed suddenly, from the emotionless expression of a superbeing to that of a scared and confused Human female.

“I’m back! She gave up control. I can’t believe it.” Tears welled up in Summer’s blue eyes as she stepped up to Adam and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I never thought I’d be able to see through my own eyes again. You can’t imagine how horrible it is to be trapped inside your own body.”

Summer was the only one happy with the situation. A dull pall hung in the room. That was why it came as such a shock when she stepped up to Panur and asked, “Will you do it?”

Panur was taken aback. “Do what?”

“Will you at least try to help J’nae? I heard everything that was said. I understand it can be dangerous, but if you know what’s going to happen, you can be prepared. I take it the last time you did one of these mind melds what happened afterward came as a surprise.”

“That it did.”

Summer said to Lila. “If I’m right, this breakdown in Panur happened over time and not all at once.”

“That is correct. It was gradual.”

“Well then, just make sure you get all the brain cells out of me the first time, and there will be no problem.”

Panur shook his head. “It is more complicated than you think. Adam retained a few of my cells for quite some time. The abilities he acquired did not happen instantly. The cells would have to stay in long enough for your body to learn from them.”

“During which time Panur will be suffering, deteriorating,” Lila said. Her usually calm demeanor was more emotional than Adam could remember. The thought of watching Panur’s cognitive abilities slowly fade away was more than she could bear. “I will not allow it. J’nae has given control back to you. That should suffice.”

Summer looked at Panur, pleading with her eyes. “Over the years, J’nae and I spent a lot of time talking before she retreated to a corner of my subconscious. I knew she could force herself to the surface if she wanted, but after a while, she gave up, letting me live my life as if I were normal. Then when I was injured, she stepped forward and helped my body heal. She saved my life.”

“It was both of your lives she saved, not just yours,” Lila pointed out.

“Either way, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. I know J’nae didn’t ask to be put in my body.” Adam shuffled nervously in place. He was responsible for that. “But I know she wants to be as free of me as I want to be free of her. How long would the cells have to remain in my body to make a difference?”

Adam could see the intensity in Panur’s eyes. He was way ahead of her. “In the first procedure, only a few stray cells were left inadvertently. However, if we plant a significant amount inside you, the effects would be manifested much faster.”

“As will your decline!” Lila exclaimed.

“It would only be thirty days, maybe less. We could closely monitor my condition, as well as the impact the cells are having on Summer. If my condition worsens beyond a point, we can always do the reverse procedure sooner. In fact, it may turn out that multiple procedures will have to be done, a little at a time. What do we have to lose? My body fully recovered the first time. And if this works, then I will extract J’nae and place her in one of my master bodies. They were designed for beings such as her. And Summer will be Summer again.”

“Panur, no!” Lila said.

“Please, you will be in control of the timing. You will have the final say when the cells are recovered. And unlike before, we’ll know what to expect. I’m willing. But you will have to be, as well. Trust me; I do not want to lose the life I have, along with all the life to come … with you.”

Adam had never seen Lila so mad. He took a step away, feeling guilty at having brought J’nae to the facility. But if he’d known what was going to happen, would he have come anyway? Probably. The thought didn’t make him feel any better.

But Lila’s attention wasn’t on him. She was glaring at Panur, her lips pressed into a thin line, the muscles in her neck pulsating, stimulated by a heart that beat for appearances only.

“Why do you torment me so?” she asked. “You know I will agree; it is what you want, and in the end, it is the right thing to do. But I worry about you.”

“I’m worried, too, but I have confidence because I know you will be watching after me.”

“Have you calculated the amount of material to be transferred?”

Panur smiled. “I know the amount; however, the variable will be the time it takes Summer’s body to adapt. That is an uncertainty we will have to accept. But as mentioned, thirty days should be long enough. Surely that is something I can spare. There is nothing crucial on the agenda, and besides, I won’t be incapacitated the entire time, just a little slower than normal.”

Panur held out his hands to Lila. “So, we’re going to do this?”

“Yes.”

“When?” Summer asked anxiously.

Panur turned to her and grinned. “No time like the present. If I recall, we will both sleep for a few hours afterward. What better time than at night. It is night, isn’t it, Adam? I lose track of time down here in the laboratory.”

“It’s actually around noon,” Adam said.

“It doesn’t matter. And you, young Summer Rains, you must be prepared to stay with us for the duration. We must let Lila monitor you closely. I insist, for her peace of mind, as well as mine. Are we agreed?”

“Hell, yeah! Let’s get this party started.”

Chapter 18

Four days after leaving Navarus—and two after dropping the crew of the small cargo hauler on a planet with CW comms—Mike and the Gracilians reached their asteroid hideaway where the three backup starships—along with over eight hundred million in Juirean credits—were kept. They picked one of the vessels for their new flagship and set about prepping the other two for service. Each would require a crew of four. Vodenik and Kovach preferred Gracilians, which would be hard to come by. Most were on Gracilia and locked down until a suitable punishment could be determined for the natives.

In the eyes of the Empires, none of them were innocent. The refugees enthusiastically joined Stimmel and set about helping with the subjugation of as many Dead Worlds as possible. They coordinated the MK technicians, helped supply machines and equipment, provided scientific expertise in a variety of fields, and even helped Stimmel prepare dark matter bombs as a deterrent against attack. Maybe a few weren’t as guilty as others, but that was something the courts would decide. For now, no one was allowed on or off the planet, while any stray Gracilians found in the galaxy were rounded up and returned to their homeworld.

A few years before, Kovach and Vodenik were on Navarus when the rogue Aris service module Kanan made his move against the planet. They were subsequently captured and imprisoned. When Kanan returned, threatening the planet with destruction by dark matter bombs, they escaped and made it to Dracendor, one of the worlds that would be eventually bought by Wolfgang Stimmel. He learned of their presence and brought them into his inner advisory council. They eventually ended up at the ancient Aris Technician base in pursuit of a mysterious object called the Formation. They helped set up the device before Stimmel’s arrival. Later, they were in an Aris computer control room, manipulating quantum anchors against Cain and the mutants while also rummaging through databases for any ancient secrets they could find.

When Stimmel lost control of the situation in the Formation room, Vodenik and Kovach left with the rest of the surviving Gracilians only minutes before Stimmel died.

Armed with the knowledge from the Aris computers, the pair set about working on merging quantum field technology with what they already knew of teleportation. Once perfected, the technology sat idle for over a year while they tried to think of a use for it.

Then three months ago, they were contacted by a mysterious figure, offering to sell them items they had once managed for Wolfgang Stimmel. The return of these items would mark a significant reversal in the affairs of the Gracilians—all Gracilians. However, the cost was exorbitant. That was when Vodenik and Kovach discovered a use for their radical new technology.

* * *

Although non-violent, Gracilians did have one hell of a temper. Mike could hear them yelling throughout half the ship. Curious who they were talking with on the CW link, he moved a little closer, until he was just outside the comm center.

“All we need is a little more time,” Kovach was saying. “Surely, you can grant us that. We already have over half the credits.”

“Only half?” said a voice on the link. Mike didn’t dare look inside in case the person on the screen saw him. “You have had three months. The other buyer already has the money. I can’t keep putting them off.”

Mike frowned at the familiar speech pattern. It sounded a lot like a Human. With universal translators at work, it was hard to tell by the words alone.

“But they are not offering as much as we are,” Vodenik said.

“Yeah, but they’re the Gradis. If they say they have the money, they have it. I took a chance with the two of you, thinking that because you worked with Stimmel that you had access to some of his money. I see now I was wrong.”

“You know what we have done so far. We can continue.”

“I know about Navarus. You really screwed that up, didn’t you?”

Human, definitely Human, Mike thought. And with an accent to boot—Scottish?

“We planned for such an event. We have three other ships equipped and ready.”

“And what’s to say you don’t screw it up again? The Juireans are on to you. You can’t keep doing what you’re doing.”

“We will not. We have plans for one more theft, this time from a Regional Depository.”

Mike winced. Dammit! So much for security. The Gracilians are spilling their guts to anyone who will listen. Mike didn’t know the speaker from Adam. How did he know if he’d keep his mouth shut?”

“That’s pretty ambitious.”

“It is,” Kovach agreed. “But it means only one more event, and we will have your credits.”

“All one billion, seven hundred fifty million?”

Even Mike gasped.

“No, one-and-a-half-billion!” Kovach stammered.

“The price just went up. And the deadline stays the same. Seeing that you only need one more heist to get the money, then you don’t need the extra time.”

“But we need crews for our other ships. And the anchors must be placed. And the Juireans will be taking precautions.”

“Now you see why it might be safer for me to deal with the Gradis Cartel. What you’re promising is just wishful thinking.”

“We will meet your price!” Vodenik yelled. “Please, do not sell the Dark Matter Collectors to the Cartel.”

There it is! Mike smiled. He’d suspected; now he had confirmation. Mike knew about the DMCs, even being present when Adam recovered one of the three stolen units from Stimmel while on the planet Woken. He also knew the whole killing Adam Cain thing was a diversion so Stimmel could steal the devices from the mutants in the first place. Now the Gracilians want them back, and for one billion, seven hundred fifty million credits. Mike almost whistled, which would have certainly given him away. Instead, he listened closely to what the mysterious Human seller would say. He’d been silent for far too long as it was, making the aliens sweat. The speaker knew how to negotiate with Gracilians, just as Mike did.

“Very well,” said the accented voice. “But as I said, the timetable remains. Cain and his damn Enforcers have me locked down here, and they’re getting closer. I need to sell the collectors soon, and the Cartel is the easy way, the guaranteed way. But if you can come up with the money, then you can have them. But be warned, this is the last negotiation. The Gradis are going to be pissed as it is that I haven’t agreed to the deal with them. And they’re not the kind of people you want to piss off. Now get me my bloody money!”

* * *

Mike rushed back to his compartment. Things were happening fast, too fast. He would have to plan a major hit to come up with the money the Gracilians needed, and they would be insisting he make it happen.

The Human was also threatening to sell the DMCs to the Gradis … if that was even true. It may have just been a negotiating tactic, but the gullible Gracilians fell for it. It didn’t matter. They would insist they hit a Regional Depository. That was the only place where they could get the money they needed. But the timing was dicey, the preparations on the fly. He didn’t like to operate like this. It was too dangerous. He needed his money so he could stay one step ahead of the Juireans. It was looking as if he would be lucky to last another month.

He lay down on his bed and stared at the overhead. He needed a plan, one that would solve all his problems. The thought would cause many sleepless nights in the days to come.

Chapter 19

The last time Mike Hannon was on the planet Woken, he was clinging to Adam Cain’s neck as he rode a cushion of air to the ground after jumping from a window three thousand feet up the side of a sheer rock cliff. It was one of the highlights of his life and the first introduction to Adam’s artificial telepathy device—his ATD. The fact that the device had been out of Adam’s side only minutes before the jump made it more a leap of faith than anything else. But it beat sticking around while Wolfgang Stimmel killed him on the spot.

Fortunately, Mike and his team of high-tech bank robbers weren’t heading for the shithole city of Essen. Instead, they were heading for the slightly less shitty town of Antunes, the location of one of the nine Regional Depositories for the Expansion Credit System. Mike was sure the Juireans built the Depository there as a concession to some powerful politician. The city was a third the size of Essen, with most of the commerce built around the giant credit-processing facility. Also, the local spaceport was only a hint of the size of Essen’s, which would make disguising three bulbous cargo ships that much harder. And having the three of them parked in orbit directly above the facility could be a dead giveaway, as well, if the Juireans considered the Depository a target.

Only fifteen days had passed since the debacle on Navarus, and sooner than he and his Gracilian partners would have staged a normal heist. And with their main ship sitting in ruins at the Kanac Spaceport, would the maneheads be expecting Mike’s team to recover so quickly?

It didn’t matter even if they did. Vodenik and Kovach were in a panic for this op, with the mysterious, Scottish-accented Human’s deadline for delivering the purchase money only four days away. For them, there was no other reason for the thefts than to get the money to buy the DMCs. That wasn’t the case for Mike Hannon. He just wanted to be free of the specter of the Juireans catching up to him for the Quanin assassination. Nothing else mattered. Unfortunately, only money would solve his problem—a whole lot of money.

Vodenik and Kovach told Mike about a small group of Gracilian scientists hiding on the planet Dracendor, the remnants of the team from the Aris Technician base. He recruited eight of them to come aboard as the crew for the other two starships in his tiny fleet. Since they were not on Gracilia, they were able to make their way to a rendezvous spot where a hasty training session on how to operate the reassembly equipment was conducted. Mike’s partners trusted the aliens, and it was a quick fix for his staffing problem.

If Mike had planned better, he wouldn’t have purchased three identical cargo ships as his backups. It looked a little conspicuous. With a galaxy with tens of thousands of starship manufacturers, having three of the same make in one location was odd. But he’d changed out the transponder codes, so only a physical scan would reveal the truth. And now they were spaced about a thousand miles apart in a geosynchronous orbit above Antunes.

Vodenik and Kovach slaved the dual generators in each ship to their control console, leaving the crews with nothing to do but steer the vessels and keep the power flowing. However, once the grabs were made, computers aboard each ship would have their individual data packs to unload, reassembling what was estimated to be a billion-and-a-half in Juirean credits in total. Added to what the Gracilians already had, it would be enough to close the deal on the DMCs.

Mike spent the last two days in the city, depositing several thousand black one-thousand-credit chips in various local businesses and at the two Expansion banks in town. One couldn’t simply deposit the credits at the Regional Depository. They had to come from the banks. However, spending money in the neighborhood sped up the process.

For their part, the alien scientists spent most of their time over the past fifteen days modifying the chips. Just one chip wouldn’t work. They needed hundreds to guarantee that at least a few would be cycled to the Depository.

The Regional Depositories were different than the banks. Rather than vaults buried far underground, the credits were stored in bunkers within the sprawling complex and at ground level. The facility was protected against theft by the presence of a thousand Juirean Guards and a complement of other species specifically-trained by the maneheads. Also, the separate vaults held quantities of individual denomination credits, rather than a variety. The thousand-credit chips were in rooms with only other thousand-credit chips.

Because of this, the team anticipated excavating more mass than their prior heists. There was no elaborate delivery and storage apparatus in the vaults—just stacks and stacks of credits. A grab would be a near-solid sphere of nothing but money.

They had three sets of generators, one aboard each ship, allowing for the targeting of three vaults. The location of the chambers was unknown, but the anchors would show the way. And if several of the modified chips made it into a vault, that was okay, too. They only needed to focus on one.

Kovach estimated that because of the increased mass in the grabs, each reassembly would take about fifty minutes. That was fine; they could do that on the fly. The problem: After Navarus, they couldn’t land in port and wait until things calmed down. They would have to bolt away right after the job, setting off alarms across the Kidis. Elaborate evasive tactics would have to be used to shake off any pursuit. But since they didn’t use stolen chips to modify as anchors, there was a chance the Juireans wouldn’t be waiting for them.

Mike grinned, thinking how the team had laundered stolen chips through transactions on a couple of Dead Worlds before heading to Woken. Then at Antunes, Mike was tasked with spreading these clean credits around, hidden within dozens of elaborate purchases. Mike made multiple trips back to the flagship with his treasures. It seemed like a waste simply to throw the items away. Before this, Mike hadn’t liked to shop—at least he didn’t until he had around a million credits just to blow on expensive crap. It became fun, and hopefully, a preview of his life after the robberies came to an end.

So, this is what it’s like to live like a king, he thought. Cool. I could get used to this.

Chapter 20

Monty and Tidus sat in an open-air café with a view of the front of the Regional Depository. The building was one of the largest they’d ever seen, even rivaling those on the Kacoran Plain on Juir. Although they knew there would be no physical assault on the building, they were there to get a feel for the target. Overlord Andon was feeding them updates, so they would be the first to know if anything happened. But as with all the prior robberies, it was the timing that was the question. And although no stolen credits had been detected, the location made sense. It was getting harder for Hannon to make his hits, so logic dictated he would do fewer, but larger. And in this part of the galaxy, none was larger than the Depository. It was also the closest to the Dead Zone and the only Depository in the Kidis Frontier.

“I wonder how Summer is doing?” Monty said out of thin air. Tidus shrugged, tolerating the Human’s obsession with the condition of his offspring. Juireans didn’t have the same parental bond to their progeny, simply because they didn’t know who they were. For a time after the Kracori devastated the Alliance Cluster, his people tried returning to traditional mating pairs for procreation after the breeding farms on Salin were destroyed. Fortunately, that experiment didn’t last long. Tidus laughed at his internal thought. If it had, he held serious doubts whether or not the Juirean race would have survived. Males and females were not designed for such close interaction. It was a bloodbath until the breeding farms were reestablished. And now that the Juireans were back in control of the Expansion, all was as it should be.

But for the Humans, it was different. They actually care for their offspring—and their mates.

“It has been fifteen days since the procedure,” he said. “The extraction should happen soon.”

“That’s what they say, but I haven’t got an answer whether Summer’s responding to the transfer.”

“I’m sure she has,” Tidus said. “It is only a question as to whether the mutation will be enough.”

A comm unit chimed on the table. Monty answered it.

“How about letting us rotate down?” Adam Cain asked. He and Riyad were in the Juirean Class-3 in orbit, the ship on which Tidus and Monty were hitching a ride. “We might like to see the sights of Antunes, too. Nothing much going on here. We’re monitoring incoming ships, nothing out of the ordinary yet. This may be a bust.”

“You have Enforcer units covering the space above all the other Credit Banks in the Kidis,” Monty said. “But this one is the ripest target, perfect for the bigwigs to watch. But if you want to waste your time on the surface, be my guess. Tidus and I will be up in a few minutes.”

“Hurry up,” Adam said, grinning widely on the screen. “The travel site says there’s an excellent open-air café right outside the Depository. Supposed to have the best creamed Poash this side of Navarus.”

“I don’t know what that is, but I can assure you, this place isn’t anything like the brochures say. It’s a real dump. We’re leaving now. Don’t leave until we get there.”

* * *

Vodenik was at the controls, scanning the surface below for the hundreds of tiny contact points on his screen. He had an overlay of the Depository, showing where the signals were in relation to the building. The team had been maintaining their position in orbit for two days, waiting for the credit chips to make their way into the building. So far, a few made it inside. Unfortunately, they were in one vault. That wouldn’t do. The thieves needed to saturate the system with the marked credit chips, guaranteeing that they would be distributed to other vaults throughout the complex. This latest scan was promising. He called Kovach over to his station.

“Two are tagged,” he said to his associate. “There is another in transit.”

“Only one?”

“Yes, but it will be enough if it is placed in a third vault. It may be time to warm up the generators. We do not want to wait long after the anchors are in place. We need to consider transit time should our efforts be successful.”

“Would the Human have placed the rendezvous location several days away knowing our target? That would defeat his insistence on maintaining his deadline.”

“He may not have a choice. He may not be able to travel. It is best that we get the credits and then contact him. We will worry about the transit time then.”

“You are correct. Now, let us prepare. All three sets of beams must be pre-aligned and fired simultaneously.”

* * *

Mike noticed the intensity of the Gracilians and walked over to the station.

“News?”

“The anchors are nearly in place. We are preparing. Are the others fully briefed? We must all meet after the reassembly to make the credit transfer to our vessel. We cannot afford any delays or mishaps.”

Mike smirked. “Hey, these are the Gracilians you recommended. If you couldn’t trust them, you should have let me know.”

“We trust them; however, watching half-a-billion in Juirean credits materialize before one’s eyes can be tempting.”

“And you can’t transfer the data from their computers to yours?”

“There would be data degradation. And then our computer could not hold that much data.”

“Then you’re going to have to take the chance. We’re paying them enough as it is. They shouldn’t get greedy. Besides, we’re giving them the ships afterward, complete with teleporting beams. They can go independent after this if they want.”

“They have not been told of the anchor chips. Without them, the beams will not do them much good.”

“You bastard,” Mike said, grinning. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Kovach and I developed the technology. Let our friends figure out the last step on their own. Now prepare. Ten minutes to extraction.”

Chapter 21

Monty and Tidus lumbered onto the bridge, finding Adam and Riyad with their feet up on consoles while the rest of the bridge crew went about their duties. Enforcers crewed the warship, along with a rapid response team of twenty-five. Adam had no idea what they would do in the case of a theft, but just knowing he had a force to deploy was better than nothing.

“Second watch reporting for duty, sir?” Monty said, giving Adam a sloppy salute.

“Very well, Mr. Pitts. You have the con—”

“How long have these vessels been on station?” Tidus interrupted. He was at the weapon's scope, looking at a contact scan of nearby space.

Monty rushed over to him.

“There are three stationary contacts. Transponders vary with age; however, the engine outputs are identical. These are all of the same make.”

“Three in a row, and of varying ages, according to the transponders,” Monty summarized. “That’s strange. Did you see this, Adam?”

The other two Humans were at the station, leaning over to take a closer look. “That is odd,” Adam said. “We should put a marker on them, see where they go.”

“They are not going anywhere; that’s the issue. Residual energy signals show they have been in the same place for several hours, maybe days. And observe, the distance between each is precisely one thousand miles. It is not a chance grouping. It is deliberate spacing.”

“If what you say is true, then Hannon has added to his fleet,” Riyad pointed out. “In fifteen days? How could he have done that?”

“Contingency plans,” Monty said. “What’s wrong with the two of you? It’s worth a look, isn’t it?”

“If this is Mike, we don’t want to scare him off,” Adam said. “Let’s take a shuttle over. He’d notice a Class-3 approaching.”

“Then let’s go; I’ll drive,” said Monty.

* * *

“Power stabilized and anchors locked,” Kovach reported. “Ready for beam initiation.”

Vodenik didn’t hesitate. He pressed the button that would activate the beams in all three ships. The process would only take a couple of seconds. At the speed of the beams, it mattered not whether they were penetrating five hundred feet of bedrock or the shielding around a surface vault. With the anchors in place, target acquisition was guaranteed and near-instantaneous.

Moments later, confirmation was received. The data packs were delivered and now stored in the computers.

“There is a problem,” Vodenik announced.

Kovach leaned over as Mike rushed to the station.

“The quantum beams have not retracted completely.”

“The T-beams?” Mike asked. “Did they retract?” It was the teleportation beams that carried the digitized credits.

“They performed as expected. The transport occurred.”

“Then what’s the problem? The quantum beams are still active, so what?”

“It is an anomaly,” the scientist stated. “It should not be happening.”

“Perhaps it is a ghost reading,” Kovach offered. “A residual wave reflecting off the others. This is the first time we have activated three beams at the same time and in such proximity.”

“Yes, that could be it. But still, the indicators show them active—now, wait. I see why.”

Kovach leaned in closer to the screen and pointed. “The beams are interacting with each other. There is signal overlap.”

“What, wait,” Mike said, shaking his head. “The beams were sent out in three different directions. How could they interact?”

“It is a characteristic of quantum particles. Quanta can appear just about anywhere … and nowhere. The main beams were focused on the anchors. But stray particles detected other beams and reacted to them. Pairs combined at will, creating random entanglements.”

“Making the new signals ghosts of the originals,” Vodenik stated.

“Is this serious?” Mike asked.

The Gracilians relaxed. “I do not see how,” Vodenik said. “Eventually, the particles will lose energy and disappear, along with the signal.”

“Can it be traced back to us?”

“There is that possibility; however, no one should be tracking Q-beams. And even if they were, we will be gone. The beams will not follow us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“So, just a ghost, and who’s afraid of ghosts?” Mike said, placing his hands on the shoulders of the two Gracilians. “Nothing to worry about? Okay,” he looked to the open area off to his right, “now it’s time to start the reassembly. This should be exciting.”

* * *

“I’m getting some strange readings around those ships,” Adam said, referring to his ATD. Panur and Lila made his unit to detect a variety of signals, from traditional radio waves to dark energy. But this was different.

Riyad’s unit could read the signals as well, although his ATD was the basic economy model. “It’s fuzzy, and a hell of a lot wider than anything I’ve seen before. Is this what a quantum wave looks like?”

Adam shook his head. “I have no idea. But the one thing I know is that something’s going on. It’s as if space itself is energized. Wouldn’t we have noticed this before at the other robbery sites?”

It was Riyad’s turn to shake his head.

“It’s great that the two of you are having this philosophical discussion,” Monty said, “but does this get us any closer to catching Hannon?”

“From what you are saying, these would indeed be Hannon’s ships,” Tidus said. “And further, they have activated the—”

“Attention Adam Cain!” a voice boomed through the comm system. “This is Overlord Andon. “There is confirmation of activity at the Antunes Depository. I repeat, confirmation. Three separate locations within the facility.”

“That could explain the readings,” Adam said to Riyad. “Three grabs; a lot of beams.”

Adam flicked the commlink open. “Andon,” he said to the blue-haired Overlord. “We have eyes on three ships we believe to be those involved in the theft. Signals confirm what you’re saying.”

“Then stop them!”

Adam grimaced. “Unfortunately, we’re in an unarmed shuttle. I’ll call in the UN-678. Wait … the ships are powering up; they’re leaving, in different directions. We’ll lock onto one and pursue.”

“Three vessels? Then two will escape if not all three.”

“Relax, Andon. We’re on it.”

“Do not lose them.”

“That’s not part of the plan. Cain out.”

Chapter 22

Mike sat mesmerized as millions of Juirean credits materialized on the deck, beginning at the bottom and then slowly building up like a 3-D printer without the nozzle. This grab was different from the others, made up of partial shelving units and boxes of credits, and not much more. Periodically, when a shelf section was done reassembling, it would crash down on the boxes below, sometimes cascading over and spilling millions of loose credits onto the deck. That was expected. A large chunk of the vault had been stripped away, leaving no end supports for the shelves. It was always like this. Eventually, what was left on the floor was a disorganized pile of metal and composite plastic. Organization would come later when the counting began.

But fifty minutes is a long time to sit and essentially watch grass grow. After a while, Mike went to a console and linked with the other two ships in his small fleet. Cameras surveyed the cargo holds, where near-identical piles of credits were slowly accumulating. Mike zoomed out to take in more of the rooms, watching as pairs of Gracilians sat transfixed, hypnotized by the process. The other two crew members on each ship piloted the vessels as they sped away from Woken on separate vectors.

Each ship was entering deep gravity-wells and then dumping out a few minutes later. They would then make radical course changes, speed along at sub-light for a while, and then reenter a well going in another direction. After five or six of these crazy and unpredictable moves, they would be impossible to follow. Even so, the freighters were inexorably working their way to a distant asteroid field where they would meet up and transfer the credits to Mike’s ship. The new members of the gang would be paid off, and the keys to the two other vessels handed over to them. They were then free to go.

Mike and his two Gracilian scientists would then quickly resume their decoy moves, this time to keep their former teammates from following.

The reassembly was complete two hours before the rendezvous. The ships linked together hull-against-hull and pass-thru portals opened. Mike came armed, cautious for the slightest indication that any of the new crew might have second thoughts about giving up the bulk of the take.

Out of the eight Gracilians, only one showed signs of nervousness. The alien species was known for their nasty habit of sweating a rather pungent form of perspiration. This particular individual was working overtime in that department.

Mike watched him carefully as the cargo was loaded aboard electric carts and transferred to the flagship. The alien kept moving behind loading boxes and fuel pods, watching the transfer but not participating as much as he should. When about half the pile was gone, he suddenly stepped into the open with an MK flash weapon in his hand.

Mike was expecting this, and as a Human, he didn’t have to rely on the targeting computer before taking a shot. Hell, for all he knew, neither did Gracilians. But Mike didn’t take the time to find out. An accurate level-1 bolt burned into the alien’s chest before he could bring his weapon to bear. The intensity of the bolt was overkill against a Gracilian, but Mike didn’t care. He shot the alien as much for effect as he did to stop him from keeping the cash. The others needed to know he was serious.

The encounter happened so unexpectedly that the small group of aliens was stunned and shocked by the killing. Some began to protest over what they saw as an unprovoked assassination. Then Mike walked over to the body and recovered the alien’s MK-17 from behind a loading crate.

“Is anyone else having ideas about changing the terms of our agreement?” Mike didn’t have to brandish his weapon for the message to be heard loud and clear.

The rest of the transfer went smoothly and in record time.

The remaining seven Gracilians made a million credits each for what was ten days of work. They also got possession of two fairly new Class-C cargo ships. Within minutes of Mike and the scientists buttoning up the pressure portals, the two other freighters bolted away in opposite directions.

Vodenik and Kovach ignored Mike’s antics; they were more concerned with getting an accurate count of the haul.

There were machines used for the high-speed counting of Juirean credits, and Mike secured ten of them for the task. Tables and crates were lined up, and then the trio began a frenetic session of money counting, sprinting between machines to keep them fed. The counted chips were then placed in final storage crates and moved to one side of the cargo hold.

The labor was long and intensive, and by the time they were done, all three collapsed into chairs, drenched in sweat and panting like racehorses.

Mike gawked at the stacked crates. There were forty-five of them for a total count of one billion, four hundred thirty million. Not quite as much as expected, but enough when counting the eight hundred million they had in another storage compartment. Two-point-two-three billion. And the seller wanted one and three-quarter billion. That left four hundred eighty million.

Mike was already entitled to seventy-five million of that. He was sure he’d get another third of the remainder, if not more. The Gracilians weren’t interested in the credits. All they wanted were the DMCs.

Even so, Kovach was doing calculations on a datapad. Even the truly-devoted might need a little seed money for their revolution.

“I will contact Graham to get the delivery location,” said Vodenik. Kovach showed him the datapad. Vodenik nodded but showed no other emotion.

A few minutes later, Mike felt the gravity drive engage, and the ship shot off for an unknown destination. Mike and Kovach went to the bridge.

“How long?” Kovach asked.

“Only seven hours.”

Mike had studied the star charts for the region near Woken. There weren’t a lot of habitable worlds within seven hours of the planet. They were headed for the planet Zafin.

Chapter 23

The Dead Zone is sixteen hundred light-years long but only four hundred wide. It covered the path that the Mad Aris Kracion took while irradiating worlds with no hesitation or compassion, killing trillions. He did it to make a point that resisting him was futile. As such, the Zone extended through a large swath of the Kidis Frontier, ending very close to the planet Woken. Zafin was the second to last world Kracion attacked, and therefore one of the last to be treated for radiation contamination by Maris-Kliss technicians. It was safe now, but that only went for the atmosphere. The soil was still a few points above minimum safe levels.

Once he had the Dark Matter Collectors, John Graham made a quick dash for the border of the Zone when Cain’s shuttle made it back to the Juirean Class-3. He had nothing in his small security fleet that could go against the warship in a desperate attempt to keep Cain from reporting what happened on the surface.

Then came the startling news that the leader of the Enforcers died in a fall from the shuttle. In a way, that was satisfying, but it didn’t change the situation. The shuttle crew would report his attack on the peacekeepers and the fact that they knew they were legit. His excuse of them being decoy units wouldn’t hold up.

And the word did go out, as every Enforcer ship in the area closed on Korash-Nor searching for Graham. Each of the ships he had in his mercenary fleet was registered with Navarus, so it wasn’t hard to identify the one he was in. Transponder trackers were set up, and every civilian and military craft in the Zone ordered to report any contact with his code. He knew some people changed out transponder codes like other people change their underwear, but he wasn’t one of them. He surveyed his small crew, and none of them knew how to do it, either.

Then an updated report came in relating how Adam Cain somehow survived the fall and made it through a freezing night on Korash-Nor to reach the Enforcer Garrison. The broadcasts were full of the news, going so far as to interview several of the Garrison personnel about their experiences with the Human. Another chapter in the legend of Adam Cain had been written.

What bothered Graham—and not mentioned in the broadcasts—was that Cain would know about the secret cargo being moved to the Garrison that day. The bloody natives had found his precious Dark Matter Collectors, and rather than use them for themselves, they decided to give them back to the mutants. Spies at the Garrison said the base commander didn’t know what was in the shipment, but they did report that he knew it was destined for the mutants. It wouldn’t take Cain long to figure out what Graham was carrying.

And hence the intensity of the search. Cain wasn’t just looking for the person who attacked his peacekeeper convoy. He was looking for the DMCs.

Graham could make a run for it, but he had little money and a ship that was figuratively on every wanted poster in the Zone. Also, the two main buyers for the devices were in the Kidis, the Gradis Cartel, and the Gracilian scientists who were part of Stimmel’s inner circle. He laughed thinking of the Gracilians.

He contacted them first, knowing they would be interested in buying the devices. The aliens had been close to Stimmel, taking trips with him and advising on the use of the dark matter. Graham also knew Stimmel was rich beyond compare. That’s what one got for being a Regional Director of MK.

Just off the cuff, Graham threw out the ridiculous amount of one-and-a-half-billion, never imagining the Gracilians would accept it. They didn’t, at first. They bloviated and yelled, hemmed and hawed, telling him that it was an outrageous number. He waited patiently, expecting them to come back with something more reasonable. They never did. After a while, they calmed down and agreed.

Afterward, there was some discussion as to how they would acquire the money. That’s when he learned about their teleportation scheme. Graham was impressed, if skeptical. But what the hell. If they could do it, then he’d be richer than he’d ever imagined.

But for insurance, he contacted the Gradis Cartel.

It was no secret the Cartel had been trying to acquire DMCs for years, not to use them, but rather to sell them, as Graham was doing. They made an offer, although quite a bit below the Gracilians’. They would give him eight hundred million, but in a combination of credits, a small fleet of starships and a fractional percentage in the Cartel’s take for a set number of years.

Graham didn’t know if he could trust the Cartel, but they seemed sincere. The cash and ships would make him fabulously wealthy, even if the percentage share never materialized.

He told them he would think about it, allowing the Gracilians time to accumulate their funds. The Cartel didn’t know about the Gracilian offer, so he was having trouble holding the Gradis at bay. But now Vodenik and Kovach were on the way, and not with one-point-five billion, but with one and three-quarter billion. Booya!

And with that much money, he would deal with the Cartel if he had to. He was heading back to Earth after this, with a fortune equivalent to over five billion dollars.

Take that, you fucking galaxy!

Chapter 24

The planet Zafin was a hellhole, but Graham had no other option. He couldn’t make it to Woken, not with every ship tasked with reporting his transponder code. And he couldn’t stay in space. The only safe place was on the surface of a planet, lost in ground clutter.

The ground clutter was a group of ragged natives who had not fared well in the years they were off-planet. Returning home didn’t work out for them, either. A third was suffering from some form of cancer from the lingering radiation. The rest were on the verge of starvation. Because of that, they had very little energy to cause him and his crew of six any problems.

The ship set down in a field near a skeleton of a city where most of the natives resettled. The official spaceport was on the other side of town. Graham wanted to avoid that. Instead, he had the ship towed to a farm and placed in a very Human-like barn.

He’d been here for almost three months, frequently checking the radiation levels. It wouldn’t pay for him to become a multi-billionaire, only to die of cancer a few years later. That would suck.

So, he and his crew stayed cooped up in the small ship most of the time. Fights broke out often, but none involved Graham. The assortment of aliens that made up his crew were smart enough not to tangle with a Human, especially one with his training.

Although born and raised in South Queensferry near Glasgow, Scotland, John Graham moved to London in his late teens and ended up in the Special Air Service, trained as a commando. He was good at what he did, although after ten years, the unit and Graham parted company when his superiors said he was unstable and lacked compassion.

“What the bloody hell does compassion have to do with it?” he asked. “We’re a combat unit. If you have compassion for your enemy, you die!”

But it wasn’t just the enemy for which Graham lacked compassion. It was everyone around him—his fellow man.

Staff Sergeant John Graham then left the planet Earth, migrating into the galaxy where killing aliens wasn’t as frowned upon as killing his fellow Humans. He found lucrative work with Priority Acquisitions in their paramilitary division, hired out as a mercenary. It was great work and paid well, and over time, he developed a reputation, a reputation that would eventually get him noticed by a certain Regional Director of Maris-Kliss.

He hooked up with Stimmel just as the Director began buying up worlds in the Dead Zone. As a fellow Human, Stimmel felt a kinship to the merc and put him in charge of the security forces for the planets, tasked with protecting the clean-up crews from scavengers, pirates and refugees. There was no law in the Zone at the time and anything went. John Graham found himself in Heaven, a bloody, sadistic version of Heaven.

But then Stimmel was killed, and everything went to Hell; however, the sale of the DMCs would make up for that, and then some. He watched the screen as tiny sensor drones he placed in orbit tracked the arrival of the Gracilian ship. At the last minute, he sent out a brief ping, showing his location. It didn’t cost anything to be cautious.

The freighter was huge and tore up the neighboring field quite nicely before settling into a cloud of landing exhaust. The air was calm this morning, so the smoke lingered, painting the scene in a uniform gray, like a black and white photo.

Graham stationed his six crew members at the periphery of the field, covering it from all angles.

Eventually, the smoke cleared and a side hatch on the freighter opened. Three people stepped out: two Gracilians—and a Human. Seeing one of his fellow species made Graham angry, feeling that this was information the Gracilians should have told him. Humans didn’t serve as mere crew. They were an integral part of all operations in which they were involved. Graham immediately began speculating on what role the Human played in the Gracilian’s plan.

The trio stood outside the hatchway, waiting patiently as Graham made his way to the starship. He’d already arranged for the two teams to exchange starships. It was a lot easier to do that than having to transfer dozens of crates of credits to his small speeder. Besides, they wouldn’t fit. Once the funds were verified, they’d go to Graham’s ship to see the DMCs.

As he came closer to the freighter, he noticed that the dark-haired Human was wearing a sidearm, but not the aliens. It made sense that the man would be the muscle, but was that all he was?

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a Human as a partner?” he asked without taking his eyes off the man.

Both Gracilians blinked hard and recoiled. “We were not aware that was of importance,” said one of them, the alien known as Kovach.

“It’s not … if he behaves himself.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” the man said. “We’re about to put together a deal that will make me a lot of money. The Gracilian’s can have their precious DMCs. I just want my share for keeping them safe for these past three months. Then I’m gone—just like you.”

“Very well. I’m Graham. That’s my last name.”

“I’m Hannon; that’s my last name, too.”

“Hannon? Michael Hannon, the bloody assassin!” Graham chuckled. “It sure is a small universe. Everyone in the bloody galaxy is out looking for you.”

“You’re telling me.”

Graham relaxed. Hannon was a criminal; he wasn’t about to cause problems. All he was in it for was the money. “Okay, let’s have a look. I’m curious to see what one and three-quarter billion in Juirean credits looks like.”

Chapter 25

The interior of the starship smelled like alien, and not the good type. Gracilians were huge, muscular creatures who sweated profusely. Graham had a lot of experience with the black-skinned creatures. He never liked them much. But today could change that impression.

The cargo hold was enormous, as one would expect aboard a Class-C freighter. And stacked neatly along the portside was row upon row of identical storage crates. Graham whistled.

Although he carried a sensing device that could detect Juirean credits, he still went to one and opened the lid. Credits, thin, black chips, filled the interior. Dividers separated the stacks. He took out the scanner and walked along the rows, checking the crates. He had no way of accurately counting the credits, not in a reasonable time, so he had to take the alien’s word for the total. Even if they were off by a few million, he didn’t care. He was having trouble enough maintaining his composure.

Damn! I did it.

“Okay, let’s go back to my ship. The DMCs are there.” Graham looked down at the sidearm on Hannon’s hip. “Is that really necessary?”

The man smiled. “Is yours? And where is your crew, back at your ship?”

“No. They’re around, keeping an eye on things.”

“Good. We don’t want anyone interrupting our little meeting.”

The walk to the barn was made in silence. Graham’s ship took up most of the interior, although it was barely over a hundred fifty feet long by forty wide.

“I should warn you,” he said. “The transponder is pretty hot on this one. I wouldn’t try going too far without some alternative form of transport arranged.”

“Don’t worry; we have that covered,” said Hannon.

Both men stood back and let the Gracilians have their moment with the DMCs. They stared at them as if they were objects of sensual pleasure. Vodenik and Kovach even hesitated to touch them for fear they might be mere illusions and not the real thing. But they were real; two three-foot-by-one-foot gray metal boxes, nondescript and plain. But combined, they had enough destructive power to create a dark energy singularity that could swallow the Milky Way.

Graham tried to put the thought out of his mind. Knowing that something that powerful existed could keep a person awake at night. One moment the galaxy is there, the next it’s gone … and with him in it. But DMCs had been around for a while, and the galaxy was still here. He just needed it to stay around long enough for him to die from overindulgence as a result of his incredible fortune—

The sound was distinctive: Not so much a pop as a poof. Flash bolts going off at a distance.

Both Graham and Hannon noticed the sound first and reacted, a clear second or two before the Gracilians. Both men had their weapons out and racing for the exit to the starship.

“Is that flash bolts?” one of the aliens asked. The Humans were gone before they could answer.

At the decrepit double doorway to the barn, the men took up flanking positions.

“Who followed you?” Graham called out.

“No one; they couldn’t. This could be Cain’s Enforcers having found you.”

Graham didn’t buy it. The timing was too coincidental. He looked at the freighter, sitting a hundred yards out in the middle of an open field. Flashes of light were coming from multiple directions in the dead foliage surrounding the dead pasture. The enemy had them surrounded.

Shite! The freighter was too far. Besides, it would leave Graham to pilot the starship alone even if he could get there. Behind him sat his small speeder, easily piloted by one person. He also had the DMCs. If he could get away, he could sell them to the Cartel. Something could be salvaged out of this mess.

Bolts began to splash off the grey stained wood of the barn. His crew had been overrun, and now the Enforcers—he assumed they were Enforcers—were coming for him.

“Listen, Hannon,” he said. “I’m getting out of here in my ship. You can come along, or you can stay here; the choice is yours.”

“What about my god-damn money?”

“Forget about it. It’s gone. But I have another buyer for the DMCs … if we can get out of here. And we don’t need the Gracilians anymore.”

“You’d leave almost two billion credits?”

“No choice, mate. But I could use another gun hand now that my crew is gone. Are you in or out?”

“Of course, I’m in; what choice do I have?”

The pair ran back to the speeder, with Graham leading the way.

Chapter 26

“Howdy—do you remember me?”

Adam Cain landed a solid right jab to Graham’s nose the moment he stepped foot in the starship. But he didn’t go down. Instead, in a practiced, fluid movement, Graham planted a stiff boot into Adam’s midsection, an instinctive reaction rather than a conscious decision.

Adam wasn’t used to being hit that hard and buckled over, only to have the back of his Enforcer uniform grabbed and pulled over his head. He tumbled out of the hatch, landing face-first on the hard soil. Another foot then came up from under his hunched over body, smacking him in the stomach and knocking even more breath out of his lungs. Fortunately for Adam, a third hit didn’t come.

“He’s heading out the back!” Monty Pitts yelled. “Go get him!”

Adam twisted an anguish-filled face up at the big Master Chief. “Me? Why don’t you go get him?”

“I can’t. I have to keep an eye on Hannon.” Monty had a satisfied grin on his face as he and Tidus moved out of the ship, both their MK’s pointed at Mike. Although Hannon was armed and with his weapon out, he released the grip and let the gun twist on a finger. Then he dropped it to the ground.

He grinned. “I give up. You got me. Please don’t shoot.”

The words rang hollow, but they were good enough for the bounty hunters.

Monty kicked Adam in the butt. “Get up, lard-ass. There’s another bad guy to catch.”

* * *

Although there were another five Enforcers in the barn at the time, John Graham managed to slip past them. He’d spent three months in the barn, and he knew every crack and crevasse. As former SAS, he’d instinctively worked out this very scenario in his mind countless times. Now, it paid off.

What vegetation there was on Zafin was the blackened remains of old forests from the time before Kracion. Still, there were a lot of the ancient stalks to sprint between and around. Even so, he only had a vague idea where he was going. He’d placed ten thousand credits in a shallow hole along the route, just enough spending money to buy his way off the planet if the need arose. But to do that, he’d have to get to the city, and that was no easy task with Enforcers on the surface, and undoubtedly in orbit.

And then there was Adam bloody Cain. The brief encounter on Korash-Nor had come full circle. He kicked himself over his impulsiveness at the time. He should have let Cain go, chasing him off the planet instead of blowing up his convoy.

Maybe he was unstable, as the officers said, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on his shortcomings.

* * *

Adam recovered from the surprise kicks and set off after Graham. He ran at faster-than-normal Human speed—thanks to the residual effect from Panur’s mind meld years ago—leaving his Enforcer support troops in the dust. It wasn’t hard to follow Graham. Although he was running through a forest, it was a forest of sticks. He could clearly see the Human up ahead.

Then Graham suddenly slid to a stop and bent over, digging.

Adam was on him a few seconds later, leaping from ten feet out to crash sideways into the body. The pair locked arms and tumbled before Adam caught a left across his jaw. Graham was good, one of the best fighters he’d encountered in a while. But Adam had added strength and quickness; unfortunately, at his age, it only made him equal to the younger, fitter man.

But Adam wasn’t without skills of his own.

The men managed to get to their feet, exchanging a quick series of blocks and counter blocks without landing clean hits. Graham tried a spin kick, but Adam was ready for it. He stepped back while slapping down with his right arm. That was what Graham was expecting. He continued his spin, coming around again to land a hard right cross on Adam’s chin.

Adam saw stars while backstepping, keeping out of range. Then Graham stepped away himself, putting distance between the fighters. He pulled his MK from its holster and aimed it at Adam.

Adam had to think fast, accessing his ATD in record time and severing the firing controls. He was surprised he did it in time. Knowing what was coming, Adam prepared himself. The misfire of the weapon put Graham off balance, and sure enough, an instinctive furtive glance down at the weapon was enough time for Adam to launch himself, putting all his weight behind another crushing right jab.

This time, it was enough. Graham toppled backward, his eyes rolling back into his head. It only lasted a second before he began to recover, but by then, the other Enforcers had caught up and swarmed over Graham, pinning him and placing restraints on his wrists.

“Don’t forget his feet, too,” Adam said, panting and bruised. “And be sure to double lock him. He’s a Human; you know what assholes they can be.” He tried to smile, but his busted bottom lip stopped him with a grimace.

* * *

By the time the Enforcers dragged/carried Graham back to the barn, the place was swarming with both Enforcers and Juireans. Overlord Andon was there with his entourage of green-haired Guards, having just returned from the freighter. Techs came out of the speeder carrying the DMCs.

“Be careful with those,” Adam said. “They bite.”

The aliens didn’t get the reference, but they nodded anyway. They scurried away, climbing into an all-terrain vehicle outside the barn for the drive to the Class-3 five miles away.

Vodenik and Kovach were in restraints, sitting dejectedly and on a pair of old wooden crates that looked about ready to break. Mike Hannon was also in shackles, yet showing no signs of worry. Monty and Tidus were next to him, congratulating each other on a job well done. They were already counting their reward.

Adam walked up to them.

“Thank your Enforcers for us,” Monty said through a wide grin. “Great timing on finding where Graham was. That made all this possible.”

Adam smirked.

Andon came up to the group.

“It is all there,” he said, referring to the credits in the freighter. “And you, Marshal Cain, have the Dark Matter Collectors. I suppose there is only one thing left to do.”

He nodded to a green-haired Juirean Guard, who then stepped up to Mike and set about removing his restraints.

“Wait … what the hell?” Monty protested. Another eight-foot-tall Guard blocked his way.

“You fulfilled your obligation,” Andon said to Mike. “The stolen credits are recovered, and the Dark Matter Collectors shall be returned to the mutants. Furthermore, the Juirean Authority will lift our arrest order on you, although you are not to flaunt your freedom. The agreed-upon twenty-five million credits will be taken from the freighter before we depart. It is more than I would have allowed, but Adam Cain was responsible for that part of the negotiation. Spend it wisely, while being assured that the Juireans will no longer actively seek your capture for past crimes. However, new ones will place you back on our list.”

“My lord, this is not proper!” Tidus said. “You give the Human a reward for what he has done while setting him free? You may have made an arrangement, but what about us? He is our bounty.”

“You will receive half of the agreed-upon recovery fee. You are also ordered to remain silent on all affairs you have witnessed or been a part of, from the thefts of the Credit System to the Hannon accommodation. Is that understood?

“Half?” Monty said. “We only get half?”

“And I am being generous,” Andon scowled.

Tidus took Monty by the arm. “We shall accept the offer, my Lord, and hope to do further business with you in the future. Although I still protest.”

Andon considered the renegade Overlord for a moment before grunting and turning to Adam.

“The other two starships are still missing, and they contain equipment capable of penetrating our credit defenses. I trust you will hunt them down so we can put an end to this entire affair.”

“As we speak. Thanks to the homing devices Mr. Hannon placed aboard the vessels, they will be easy to track. We’re on top of it.”

“Good.” Andon turned back to Mike. “I do not forgive you for what you did to Counselor Quanin; however, I realize it was part of a conspiracy that involved senior Juireans as well. As such, it is a chapter in our history best forgotten.”

The Overlord abruptly turned away and strode out of the barn, taking his Guards with him.

“What the hell just happened?” Monty said, taking a threatening step toward Adam.

Adam greeted him with a smile. “It seems our friend Mike Hannon had a sudden change of heart. When he found out the Gracilian’s were going to use the money to buy DMCs, he grew a conscience.”

Mike winced. “It didn’t exactly go down like that, not really. I just figured that even if I had a king’s ransom, I would always be looking over my shoulder for the Juireans—and you, Mr. Pitts. But I had something of value I could trade with the Juireans. So, I contacted my good friend Adam Cain, and we cut a deal.”

“How long have you known about this?” Tidus asked Adam.

“Not long, only about ten days. We had to act fast if we wanted to recover the DMCs. We also had to let Mike go through with the theft at the Depository. The Gracilians needed the money to meet Graham.”

“A thousand things could have gone wrong.”

“You’re right about that. We took a chance.”

“It’s not fair,” Monty said. “You should have let us in on the plan. Instead, we had to stand around looking like idiots while Hannon got untied.”

“Don’t take it personally, Monty. You would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes.”

“Don’t bet on it!”

Adam laughed. “Now, how about the two of you give us a hand tracking down the other freighters. I’m sure I can find a little money in the Enforcer budget to pay you for your troubles.”

“We do not accept charity,” Tidus stated firmly.

Monty put a hand on the chest of the huge alien. “Now hold on a minute, Tidus. How little are you talking about?”

Chapter 27

Bactin’s body was beginning to smell. Besides, his corpse was a reminder to the other three Gracilians on the freighter about how close they’d come to being murdered by the savage Human. So, Pontus had the body cast out into space after a brief ceremony in remembrance of their lost comrade.

They had discussed the idea of absconding with some of the stolen credits but did not take it beyond the talking stage. However, when the breath-taking pile of credits began to form in the cargo hold, pulses quickened, and possibilities were bandied about. Only Bactin had the courage to try anything—and it cost him his life.

But the desire was still there in the surviving three Gracilians. They had a Class-C freighter, equipped with the generators required for them to create their own instant wealth. As part of the Gracilian team that accompanied Vodenik and Kovach to the desolate Aris base, they understood both teleportation tech, as well as quantum anchors. They could be just as successful as their brethren.

If they could just figure out how to focus the beams…

* * *

“There appears to be an interference of some kind,” Crin announced from the control console. All the Gracilians were skilled scientists and technicians, so the failure to get the beams to work properly was an insult to their expertise.

After leaving the rendezvous point, they bolted away, taking precautions to make sure they weren’t followed. Then at a convenient asteroid field, they stopped to test the equipment. That’s when the problems materialized.

The beams were not aligning, and because of this, they were not focusing on the same point on the surface. At Woken, Pontus and the others saw how the beams were able to target a specific room from three hundred miles in orbit. They were only fifty miles above the surface of a large asteroid, and their results were all over the place. And besides that, the quantum beam was fuzzy and refused to retract fully.

Solon surveyed the data stream for the twentieth time. “What could keep the beam from retracting? Perhaps a blockage.”

“What kind of blockage?” asked Crin.

Solon’s eyes grew wide. “Perhaps there are still credits contained in the signal!”

“In the Q-beam? How is that possible? It is used only for guidance.”

“And that guidance feature is not working. I heard Vodenik announce an anomaly after the main transfer. There could have been an overlap of functions.”

“How?”

Solon scowled at his friend. “I do not know. If I knew, I would fix it.”

“If there could still be credits in the signal, we should send only the Q-beam through the filter. Even if there are no credits, it might clear the line for a reboot of the system.”

Pontus was the team’s unofficial leader. He’d been listening to the conversation and now moved over to join them. “Can you feed the Q-beam through the reassembly program? It was designed only for the teleportation field.”

“I believe so,” Crin said, turning to the controls. After a moment, he looked up. “Yes! The signal is rerouted. Let us see if there is anything in the quantum field to reassemble.”

The Gracilians turned to the open expanse of decking in the middle of the cargo hold, the spot where only a day before half a billion Juirean credit sat. Now, something was happening.

“There is something in the beam!” Solon exclaimed, announcing his intellectual victory.

But it wasn’t credits. Instead, wispy like figures began to be defined, three of them. The shapes were familiar but hard to discern. The reassembly procedure continued for ten minutes before the computer indicated that all matter within the beam had reformed and that the line was clear.

“Now the beam should retract,” Solon said, watching the data streams on the monitor.

But Pontus and Crin weren’t looking at the screen. Instead, their attention was locked on the three strange creatures standing twenty feet away.

They were shorter than Gracilians and of a slighter build, but even after the assembly procedure was over, it was still hard to make them out clearly. It seemed as if the harder one looked, the less defined they became.

Are they here? Pontus thought. Or are they ghost images produced by the computer, an echo of some kind.

Then one of the figures turned his head to look at the others. They began to move, and as they did, their images began to solidify. Yes, three figures, sex indeterminant, with smooth heads and wearing identical light yellow robes.

The three Gracilians were on their feet, terrified of the trio of strange creatures. They were no longer ghosts, but real people, people who had been reassembled from a quantum beam … and lived. Pontus and his team were intimate with teleportation technology, knowing that no living creature could survive the process. However, these three did not come from a T-beam. They’d achieved the impossible, emerging from … from where?

“Can you hear me?” Pontus asked, taking the lead.

The ghosts reacted, looking at each other and then answering in a strange tongue the Gracilian’s translation bugs couldn’t decipher.

“We do not understand? Who are you? Where did you come from?”

The aliens—what else would one call them—continued chattering among themselves while occasionally addressing the Gracilians. Then one of them stepped forward suddenly, and with a slender hand, took Pontus by the neck. In the blink of an eye, it ripped away a thick slab of flesh from the side of his face, holding it in its hand while withdrawing the miniature translation bug from the bloody mass.

Pontus grasped for his neck and head as spurts of blood cascaded away. Solon and Crin gasped and ran to his side. But it was too late, the blood loss too severe. Pontus collapsed to the deck, leaving his friends in shock and covered in blood.

Solon looked up at the ghostly figures. “Why did you do that? You killed him! Do you have any concept of what you have done?”

The three aliens gathered around the translation device, staring at it with unblinking white eyes. Then they parted and approached the two surviving Gracilians. Solon and Crin jumped to their feet and shuffled away from their fallen comrade, believing they were next to have the flesh torn from their bodies.

“We understand the concept of death,” said a voice that hung in the air, its source indeterminant. “Who are you? Where is this place?”

Crin and Solon were shocked into silence.

“Do not flee,” said another of the aliens. “We seek information.”

“Then why did you kill Pontus?” Crin yelled.

“To learn your language; all languages. There is an enormous variety. Are these from different species?”

“Yes, they are,” Solon answered. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”

“Understanding is still being processed. We are aboard a vessel of some kind.”

“You were reassembled from a quantum beam if that helps with your understanding,” Solon continued. “Did you come from Woken?”

“We know not of Woken, but we understand the quantum beam.” The alien looked to the others; a consensus reached. “Understanding is coming. We know now from where we came. Where are the Aris? Are you with them?”

“The Aris?” Crin gawked. He wasn’t expecting the question. “There are no Aris, no longer. You know of the Aris?”

“No more Aris?” asked the creature. “Where are they? What happened to them?”

“They died off—at least most of them—three billion years ago. A few survived in hibernation pods, but even they are gone now.”

One of the aliens stepped forward. Instinctively, Crin assigned his gender to be male. Glowing, unblinking white orbs focused on the Gracilian. “You say three billion years have passed since the time of the Aris. How do you know?”

“There have been artifacts found and ancient bases located.”

“And the homeworld?”

“Gone; however, our homeworld is the closest to where the Aris world once existed. We are called Gracilians. We believe ourselves to be the true children of the Aris.”

The alien appeared to smile, revealing emotions Crin did not know the strange creatures possessed.

“You? No, you are not the children of the Aris. Now I ask, where is the Formation?”

Crin was taken aback. He and Solon knew of the Formation, but few others. On Stimmel’s orders, they were part of the Gracilian team that traveled to the ancient Aris base to assemble the mysterious device, although they did not know how it worked or what purpose it served. But now these creatures from the quantum beam just revealed that they know of the device … and more. Crin was sweating profusely, overcome by nervousness. Standing before him was something that should not exist—a killer from a different time and dimension.

“How do you know of the Formation?” he nervously asked. “Very few are aware of its existence.”

“That matters not. You say the Aris are gone, as is their homeworld. Yet you speak of the Formation as if you have seen it.”

“I … we have.”

“Where is it?”

“The last we saw it was at the ancient Aris base. I would now assume the mutants have it. They have most all Aris artifacts.”

“What mutants?”

“They are called Panur and Lila, and they reside on the planet Navarus.”

“That is where the Formation will be found?”

“If it is anywhere, that is where it is. All Aris artifacts are sent there.”

“You will take us there.”

“To Navarus? That will not be possible. We are not welcome.”

“You will take us there,” the creature repeated.

The three alien figures then slid past Crin and Solon and began surveying the control consoles for the T- and Q-beams. Long fingers worked controls, slowly at first, and then quicker, more confident as the seconds passed. Data streamed on the screen. The creatures were confused at first, but comprehension soon followed as the words began to make sense. Crin was mesmerized by the strange beings. They had to be intelligent beyond compare, even more so than the mutants. And they were possessed of strength rivaling the Humans. But who were they?

“This is a teleportation station,” one of the aliens stated. “Extremely crude, yet functional.”

“The question as to function is still open,” Solon replied. “We have not been able to attain focus.”

“That is the fault of the operator, not the equipment—”

A claxon sounded, echoing off the metal bulkheads of the cargo hold. Solon stepped to the control console, intimidated by the proximity of the aliens but needing to get to the computer.

“Pardon, that is a proximity alarm. Vessels are approaching. I need to get to the screens.”

The aliens stepped aside.

Solon took a deep breath as he sat in his chair, trying to gain his composure. Too much had happened over the past few minutes for him to concentrate fully. And now the alarm was blaring in his ears. He shut off the grating sound with the press of a button. A moment later, he linked to the bridge monitors. Two ships were nearby, transponders pinging out the identity of Enforcer vessels.

“How did they find us, and so soon?” Crin asked, leaning over Solon’s shoulder.

“Your vessel is sending out a repeating signal,” said one of the ghostly figures.

“A homing beacon?” Solon said to Crin. “Who would have planted such a device.”

“The Human must have done it. What do we do now?”

“We must surrender.”

“You will take us to Navarus,” said one of the aliens.

“We cannot, even if we wanted to. These are police vessels representing legal authority. Do you understand?”

“Yes, we do.”

“We are outlaws. They are here to arrest us.”

“You cannot let them do that.”

“We have no choice,” said Crin. “We have no weapons strong enough to defeat the Enforcer warships.”

“You have a quantum beam generator.”

Crin stared at the creature. “How will that help? It is a guidance beam for the teleportation field. It is also used as a suspension device, but nothing more.”

“Is that all for which you use quantum field beams? They are weapons. They were designed as weapons.”

“How, how do we use them?” Solon asked.

Crin took him by the arm. “Even if the beam can be used as a weapon, do we dare fire on Enforcers? Our crimes to this point are minor. Let us not make them worse.”

Solon didn’t get a chance to answer before he was shoved out of his chair by one of the aliens.

The alien sat at the station and began manipulating the beam controls. The Enforcer ships were close enough to be visible in magnification, moving in closer than usual as they confronted an unarmed freighter. Now, Crin and Solon watched in horror as, first one, then the other, Enforcer warship had large sections of their hulls ripped away. The destruction moved in swaths, causing catastrophic pressure explosions before chemical propellant ignited. Brief flashes of light blinded the screen before it recovered, showing a rapidly thinning debris field against the black of space.

“The tracking device has been disabled,” said the alien at the computer. He now turned in the chair and looked up at Solon and Crin.

“Now, you will take us to the planet Navarus.”

Neither Gracilian raised a word in protest.

Chapter 28

The team gathered before a large monitor placed on the wall of a conference room aboard the Juirean Class-3 starship. On the screen was a wide-angle view of the main laboratory at the mutant’s research facility. Adam, Riyad and Mike Hannon, along the two bounty hunters, sat either in chairs or on the table, talking with Summer, Lila and Panur on the link with Navarus.

Summer was shaking her head.

“Fifty percent, that sucks,” she said.

“But Adam is going to pay us fifty thousand each for helping catch the second freighter, and another twenty-five for the third one, once we find it,” Monty said. “Apparently, the sneaky Gracilian bastards found the tracking device and disabled it.”

A similar screen was mounted on the wall below the camera in the laboratory, allowing Summer to see the assembled team on the starship.

“I appreciate that Adam, although I feel a little cheap taking your money since I didn’t help with the capture. I’ll take the Juireans’, don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t have anything to do with the freighter, or even Hannon’s capture.” She looked at Mike. “I can’t believe they let you go. You know you’re guilty as sin.”

Mike smiled. “We all are, sweetheart; guilty of something.”

“Yeah, but most of us don’t make twenty-five million for being a killer.”

Mike shrugged and winked.

“Not to change the subject,” Adam said, “but how are you feeling, Summer?”

“Great! Fantastic! The best I’ve ever felt.” She looked over at a worried Lila Bol across the room. Adam’s daughter was standing next to Panur, who sat slump-shouldered at the table. Adam could see he wasn’t faring well.

“I know this is only temporary, but for now, it’s an incredible feeling,” Summer continued. “But I have to tell you, I never realized how stupid I am … about everything.”

“It is not stupidity,” Panur said with a grin, “but ignorance. You are now able to experience life on a different level, seeing what you could not see before.”

“And you, Panur, how are you doing?” Adam asked.

“Admittedly, I have been better,” the mutant answered honestly. “But the end is drawing near.”

“That is correct,” Lila suddenly spoke. “His decline has been much more rapid than before because of the volume of material he transferred to Summer. He is still functioning, but the effects are noticeable. I do not want to prolong the transfer beyond another two weeks if even that long.”

“Is Summer responding?”

“That is hard to tell,” Lila said. “Her cognitive abilities are far superior to where she was before, as are her physical attributes. But we cannot definitively measure the extent of the adaptation until Panur’s brain cells have been withdrawn. The signs are encouraging, but the final verdict will come later.”

“We miss you, Summer,” Monty said. “We’ll be back on Navarus—”

A soft bleeping sounded in the laboratory; Lila slid to a computer terminal with Panur a step behind.

“What is it?” Adam asked. “What’s going on?”

“There has been an attempt to penetrate the Lerpiniere field surrounding the Formation.”

“What kind of attempt?”

“Teleportation, accompanied by a Q-field.”

Adam looked at Riyad.

“It has to be the third freighter,” said Riyad. “But why would the Gracilians be interested in the Formation? How would they even know about it?”

“I might have an idea,” Mike Hannon offered. “The new Gracilian crew members we brought on were part of a group who worked with Vodenik and Kovach. I heard them talking about building something they called the Formation. I remembered because Adam talked about something called a Formation disk when we were in Stimmel’s office on Woken.”

“But why would they want to steal it?” Adam asked.

Mike shook his head. “Besides that, Vodenik said they couldn’t use the teleportation equipment because he didn’t tell them about how anchor points are needed to focus the beams.”

“These beams are highly focused and accurate,” Lila stated. “And I can guarantee there are no anchor points in the Formation chamber.”

“Then how?” Mike asked.

“Such pin-point targeting of the beams without anchors is beyond the capabilities of the Gracilians,” Panur stated. “Tell me, were there any issues with the last transfers, with either the T- or Q-beams?”

“Vodenik did mention an anomaly,” Mike said.

“What kind of anomaly?”

“With the quantum beam. It didn’t retract completely. He said there was some kind of particle bleed-over to the other beams.”

Panur looked at Lila. “Three beams, in parallel, and with interaction.”

“That could do it.”

“Do what?” Adam asked.

“Open a portal in the quantum field.”

“But it would be highly unlikely,” Lila said. “And even so, the chance of them being part of this particular beam field would be astronomical.”

“The Quantum universe works differently from ours,” Panur said. “All locations are everywhere and all possibilities possible. It may not be as unlikely as you suspect.”

“What are you talking about?” Adam asked.

Lila looked at her father on the monitor. “The Luz.”

“You mean that other extinct race, the bastard children of the Aris?”

“Yes.”

“Why would they want the Formation?”

“Because they found it originally and used it to modify their species. Now they are free, with the rest of their species extinct. Perhaps they wish to reconstitute the Luz, the entire race.”

“Could they—”

None of the people aboard the Juirean Class-3 battleship had ever witnessed a teleportation event in real-time. No cameras recorded the thefts at the banks or the Depository. But now they saw the event live, as it unfolded in the laboratory on Navarus.

It only took a second, a brief shimmering before a spherical section of the laboratory vanished. This was different from when Stimmel was consumed by a blackhole. There was no sudden collapse of matter to a single bright point … and then nothing. This was an all-consuming event that left the familiar concave cavities in both the ceiling and the floor.

And the event took place where the mutants had been seated only seconds before.

* * *

Summer flew across the room, sucked by the sudden loss of air pressure toward the shallow depression cut in the floor. The pressure stabilized, and she tried climbed to her feet before sliding on the smooth cutout surface, falling again to her hands and knees. Giving up, she sat down and looked at the monitor.

“They’re gone!” she cried out. “They’re gone.”

Fifteen light-years away aboard the Juirean Class-3, Adam’s team sat in stunned disbelief. Adam could hardly breathe; his senses numb. Lila—his daughter—was gone, as was Panur, the greatest mind in the galaxy, teleported away to who knew where?

Then he firmed his jaw. He knew where: The third freighter. He even believed he knew who did it—the mysterious super-race called the Luz having somehow been resurrected from the dead after three billion years in a quantum prison.

But there was more.

“Summer!” he called out. She was still sitting in the center of the bowl left in the floor, whimpering softly, in shock over what just took place only feet away from where she was standing. “I need to speak with J’nae. Can you let her come to the surface?”

Summer looked up at the screen. Her face was blank, uncomprehending. But suddenly the expression changed. Her eyes grew fierce and focused her jaw set.

“We’re going to need your help to find them,” Adam said. “Will you do it?”

“Of course,” J’nae answered. “Panur is my Creator, and only through him will Summer and I be free.”

“There’s not much time.”

“This I know. He is declining rapidly—exponentially—and if he does not get his cells back in time, Panur will die. The galaxy cannot afford to lose the intellectual resource of Panur and Lila. I will do what I can, although at the moment, I know not what that can be. I have heard the discussion of the Luz since I have been here. Some—the leaders—were superior to the Aris. They are the ones who were locked away using quantum field technology and who are now free. To defeat them, we will need not only my intellect but also that of Lila and a fully-functioning Panur. I am at your disposal, Adam Cain. Let us join together to find Panur and Lila Bol.”

Adam stared at the screen. The mutants—including his beloved daughter—were gone, taken by superbeings he didn’t even know existed until only a few short weeks ago. Finding the mutants would be hard, getting them safely away from their captors, next to impossible.

Adam pursed his lips in anger. The galaxy had done it to him again, given him an impossible task against an unbeatable enemy.

But this time, the bastards had Lila.

This time, it was personal.

The End

Children of the Aris

Don’t miss the next exciting novel

in the Adam Cain Saga

CHILDREN

of the

ARIS

Fall of 2020

After Lila and Panur are kidnapped by the mysterious and ancient Luz, Adam and his team are now in a desperate race against time to rescue the pair. At stake, the death of the once-immortal genius Panur. With only days before his conditions worsens beyond repair, the galaxy can’t afford to lose his genius.

But there is more at stake than simply the welfare of the mutants.

The Luz are holding the mutants hostage until they get possession of the Formation. The powerful God-Machine from the First Epoch is the key to the Luz reconstituting their extinct race. And if they can, the aliens will unleash unspeakable death and destruction on the galaxy as they seek delayed revenge against their ancient tormentors, the Aris.

Yet with the Aris gone, the Luz have no one to exact their revenge against.

Only us …

Children of the Aris

Author Notes

It’s been a wild time bringing the Adam Cain Saga to life. Although a continuation of The Human Chronicles, the new series is designed as smaller, bite-size chunks of Space Opera adventure, easily consumable and with hardly an aftertaste. I hope you’ve enjoyed them, and will continue into the future.

The next book in the series—Children of the Aris—will be out in the Fall of 2020. Between now and then, I will be returning to the REV universe for a couple of books to introduce the new REV Warriors Series: Part 2.

Here’s a brief synopsis of what’s to come.

The first book in Part 2 picks up ten years after the events of REV: Retribution, book 5 in Part 1. (Soon, the complete Part 1 will be available as a box set. Be looking for it.)

Zac Murphy and his natural REVs are still around, but now their universe has expanded. After the defeat of the Antaere, the Humans control the Grid with no internal enemies to speak off—only ourselves. However, Humanity has expanded beyond the Grid and discovered a vast—and dangerous—galaxy full of ambitious species, each with their own agenda.

And who better to lead this foray into the unknown than the REVs? The Humans of Earth have a basic philosophy: Let the REVs lead the way. The logic is simple. The REVs are superhuman fighters … so let them fight. It keeps the REVs and the general population apart, reducing the friction and resentment between the two species of Man. But maintaining this separation is not always possible, and conflicts arise. The REVs are discontent that it’s their blood being spilled on a dozen savage worlds, while the Humans of Earth fear the REVs because of their superior abilities. Something is bound to give.

In the meantime, Dr. David Cross is making progress toward his ultimate goal, that of producing a single Super-Human species, one to replace all the varieties that are around thanks to his prior experiments.

REV: Part 2 continues the Saga, covering the struggles taking place within a splintered Human race, both physical and political, and all set against the backdrop of constant conflicts with an assortment of alien species.

Needless to say, Humanity will never be the same after REV.

So, there’s my pitch for the next chapter in the REV Saga. Book 1 of Part 2 will be out in early October 2020. Be watching your email for announcements of all my upcoming books. And if you’re not a member of my email list, you should sign-up. There are some exciting—even revolutionary—things in the works. Be the first to know when they hit.

Now, I’m looking at the clock and see it’s time to get back to work. There are so many books to write … and it’s always the right time to write. (You were expecting something different?) Thanks for indulging my fantasies all these years. Your continued support is appreciated more than you can imagine.

With Warmest Regards to All,

T.R. (Tom) Harris

August 2020

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Novels by T.R. Harris

The Adam Cain Saga

The Dead Worlds

Empires

Battle Plan

Galactic Vortex

Dark Energy

Universal Law

The Formation Code

The Quantum Enigma

Children of the Aris

The Human Chronicles

The Fringe Worlds

Alien Assassin

The War of Pawns

The Tactics of Revenge

The Legend of Earth

Cain’s Crusaders

The Apex Predator

A Galaxy to Conquer

The Masters of War

Prelude to War

The Unreachable Stars

When Earth Reigned Supreme

A Clash of Aliens

Battlelines

The Copernicus Deception

Scorched Earth

Alien Games

The Cain Legacy

The Andromeda Mission

Last Species Standing

Invasion Force

Force of Gravity

Mission Critical

The Lost Universe

The Immortal War

Destroyer of Worlds

Phantoms

Terminus Rising

The Last Aris

The Human Chronicles Box Set Series

Box Set #1 – Books 1-5 in the series

Box Set #2 – Books 6-10 in the series

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

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

Box Set #5—Books 21-25 in the series

REV Warriors Series

Rev

REV: Renegades

REV: Rebirth

REV: Revolution

REV: Retribution

REV: Revelations (coming soon)

REV Warriors Box Set #1 – Books 1-3 in the series

Jason King – Agent to the Stars Series

The Enclaves of Sylox

Treasure of the Galactic Lights

The Drone Wars Series

Day of the Drone

In collaboration with Co-Author George Wier…

The Liberation Series

Captains Malicious

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