A Clash of Aliens (The Human Chronicles Book 13) (17 page)

Fanon blinked several times; the translation had only confused him more. He decided to move on. “The Hal’ic have long been seeking partners with whom to unite against the Sol-Kor, and I know the Scribes feel that the Humans may be such partners. Are they deluding themselves?”

“You mean for an assault on the Sol-Kor, here in this universe?”

“Yes, on Kor, and the other primary worlds.”

Adam shook his head. “You’re asking a lot. It’s all we can do to stay one step ahead of them in our own galaxy. You do realize there are over a trillion of the bastards?”

“Yes, we know. We also have detailed information on all their pyramids, power stations, training centers, and food processing facilities. We could be valuable allies for the Humans.”

“In your universe, not ours.” Adam sighed deeply. “There’s something you have to understand about Humans: we don’t often act as a unit. We’re a race of very pragmatic individuals, each following their own agenda. On rare occasions, we do come together to fight a common enemy, but that only lasts as long as the threat is staring us right in the face. Even now there are those of my race who want to negotiate a peace with the Sol-Kor.”

“That will not work.”

“Thank you very much! I keep trying to tell them that. But if you want them to mount a major campaign to invade Sol-Kor space and engage in a long, drawn-out war in an alien universe, I think you can kiss that idea goodbye.”

“The Sol-Kor will continue to be a threat to your universe.”

“As long as they move on to other galaxies and leave mine alone, that will be good enough for us. Sorry, Fanon, but I don’t see us partnering up.”

The alien stared out the forward viewport for several moments, deep in thought. “I regret to hear that. But maybe you will change your mind once we reach J’nae.”

“It’s not my decision to make. Just look where you found me. I’m one of those who will go to whatever universe is necessary to fight the SK’s. I’m just saying that as a race, it probably won’t happen.”

“That is unfortunate. However, we can count on you to help.”

Adam went to protest, but held his tongue. The Hal’ic spy had rescued him from the Sol-Kor, expecting some favor in return. Adam would bide his time before dashing their hopes. What he needed now was a way back to his universe, or at least a way to communicate with them. There might be more personal TD-portals on other Sol-Kor worlds which would be less guarded than those on Kor. His new friends might be able to help him find one. To that end, Adam decided to try a new tack.

“I’ll tell you what, Fanon. Since you helped me out, I will use all my considerable influence with my fellow Humans to get them to help you. I’m somewhat of a hero where I come from. My opinion is respected. I can see how having the Hal’ic as allies right here in the backyard of the Sol-Kor could really give us the advantage. Let me see what I can do with my people.”

Fanon’s mood changed considerably. Although the altered scaly skin on his face didn’t allow for more than a thin smile or a frown, he did his best to display his thanks. “The Hal’ic have been waiting for a long time to find an able partner in this struggle. Not many advanced races exist in the area surrounding major Sol-Kor occupation. They have all been…harvested. Perhaps finding one in another universe is the most we can hope for.”

“Do you have way to get me back to my universe?” Adam held his breath while waiting for the reply.

“We do not—”

He exhaled deeply.

“However, we may be able to find a way.”

An inhale. “How?”

Now the lips of the alien attempted a smile. “The Sol-Kor know nothing of the capabilities of the Hal’ic. As such, we operate in the shadows. We have operatives in various locations throughout the Sol-Kor Colony. It is important that we remain hidden…until it is time not to hide any longer. If you are able to enlist the help of the Humans, we will find a way for you to contact your species.”

So a quid pro quo,
Adam thought. He was okay with that. However, he was also positive the Union would not join the Hal’ic in any protracted war against the Sol-Kor, especially in their home universe. He would still make the presentation—as long as that presentation took place at the Union headquarters building in Phoenix, in the former state of Arizona, on the planet Earth.

********

Fanon entered his home star system without incident, even in a Sol-Kor mining craft. He made a number of links and then settled down in the remains of an ancient city that could’ve easily been the one Adam had visited earlier. He wasn’t sure. The planet was covered in ruins, and they all looked alike, crumbling structures overgrown by voracious vegetation.

Yet unlike the last time he was on planet, the ground beneath the spaceship began to rotate downward until it was completely below the surface. Then another panel of artificial grass and rubble swung into place over it, thoroughly hiding their entry point within seconds of landing.

The huge vehicle elevator continued to descend. Adam had no idea how deep, but the journey took a full twenty minutes. When they eventually reached the bottom, the panel on which the ship rested slid forward into a vast chamber occupied by hundreds of spacecraft, none resembling the Sol-Kor ship they were in. These were Hal’ic spacecraft, designed and built in secret by a race that had supposedly been wiped out of existence five thousand years before.

Stocky, pale-skinned natives were everywhere, hundreds of them circulating throughout the spaceport, wearing a variety of outfits—not animal skins like before. However, one dominant uniform was worn primarily by the males he saw. It was dark blue, one-piece, with white patches on the sleeves indicating rank—members of the Hal’ic military.

The Sol-Kor mining ship was finally maneuvered into a space within the vast underground spaceport and the conveyor belt stopped.

“We have arrived,” Fanon said with open joy.

“How long have you been gone?”

“Not long—on this assignment anyway—since just after you disclosed the death of the Eternal Queen. Yet because of my unique modifications, I have been to Kor four times before, one time for over a year. I was promised that after this last mission I would be returned to normal. It will be a long and painful recovery, yet I will endure it with enthusiasm.”

“Good for you…and I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for getting off Kor? Your help was completely unexpected.”

“My original assignment did not include your extraction. I was sent to observe and gather information. Only recently were the orders amended to bring you to J’nae.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

Fanon is a quick study,
Adam observed.

“I wonder what changed?”

“That will be for others to explain. Now, let us depart. A delegation has already formed outside.”

The delegation consisted of five older Hal’ics dressed in high-collared tunics with sashes of white and green across their chests. The natives smiled with reckless abandon, unafraid that the baring of teeth would incite a death challenge. Adam smiled back. It felt good not having to worry about such a simple thing as a smile.

One particular dignitary stepped forward. “You may not recognize me, yet we have met before.”

Adam studied the face. He did look familiar. “You have to be the leader in the den when I was here before.”

“Correct. I am Lun Szy.”

“That was a very effective disguise. I barely recognize you now. And I see you speak my language quite well.”

“Language programs have been in use for several thousand years on J’nae. Unfortunately, there are not too many languages that have survived the Sol-Kor. When a race is harvested, it does not warrant keeping their language on file. Your language is our most recent addition, stolen I might add from the databanks of the Sol-Kor.”

“Are you in charge?”

“No…not in the least. I am a commander in our military force, covert operations. Our leaders are the Scribes. They are elders with knowledge passed down through many generations. They are sustained artificially to keep their spirit and knowledge alive.”

“How old are they?”

“The oldest is over two thousands of our cycles old. Converting time intervals to yours, that would be close to nineteen hundreds of your years.”

“You do have computers to store the knowledge, don’t you?”

“Of course. However, it is mainly for tradition and continuity that we maintain the rank of Scribe. When a species has faced the brink of extinction such as the Hal’ic have, keeping links to the past alive becomes very important.”

Adam nodded. He looked around the spaceport. “Very impressive. And all built under the noses of the Sol-Kor.”

“This is one of several thousand storage ports beneath the surface. But I am getting ahead of myself. We have an appointment with the Scribes. They are most anxious to meet you.”

Lun seemed to add significance to the word
you
, leaving Adam with the impression that the Hal’ic held him in some special regard. He couldn’t imagine why. Sure, he’d killed the former Queen, but all that did was open the door for the mutant J’nae to take over.

The
mutant
J’nae…and the
planet
J’nae. He knew that was going to get confusing.

The small delegation boarded an open-air electric cart with six rows of comfortable seating, three across. They left the storage port—as Lun had called it—through a wide opening and entered a rock-walled tunnel easily a hundred meters wide by fifty high. Similar vehicles scurried about, passing into and out of adjoining tunnels. All in all, it was an impressive scene, which reminded Adam of the underground cities of Castor in the Fringe. Yet the Castorian cities were overcrowded, dirty, and packed full of a menagerie of exotic alien species. These corridors were clean, the population homogenous and organized.  

The cart pulled into a narrow tunnel and continued on for another five minutes before arriving at a tall stone façade carved into the rock wall of the cavern. It was an imposing, columned edifice, appearing much older than the other structures he’d seen.

The party climbed a set of twenty wide stairs and entered the chamber through broad archways.

“Through here,” Lun directed. “This is our Convening Center. The Scribes reside here and conduct business. We will be meeting with the governing triumvirate, the three appointed decision-makers among the Scribes. As an outsider, I would not expect you to recognize what an honor this is, but for us this is a special privilege.”

“I appreciate the heads-up, Lun. I’ve been on too many worlds where something like this was left unexplained, and then punished if not respected.”

Only Lun, Fanon, and Adam entered the chamber. The rest of the silent entourage remained outside.

Adam had been half expecting what he found inside the room, after Lun’s mention of
artificial
means to keep the aged Scribes alive. Each of the three rested in half-shell containers, with a variety of tubes and wires connected to computers and elaborate mechanical devices. The creatures inside the high-tech hospital beds looked to be in remarkably good health considering they were each probably over a thousand years old. Granted, they weren’t going on any mountain hikes or playing pick-up basketball anytime soon, not in their condition, but they did appear to have certain dexterity within their arms and faces, and their eyes were bright and inquisitive.

“Ah, Adam Cain, it is a pleasure to have you among us,” said the Scribe in the center position. His skin appeared tanned and robust. “I am Gan Doli. To my right is Vaz Nha and on my left is Kaos Luz. If it has not been explained to you, we are the governing Hal’ic among the ninety-six Scribes still living.”