Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 2: The Apex Predator (13 page)

Again the alien hesitated before responding.
Either this thing is suspicious … or else he’s a really slow thinker,
Adam thought.

“I know little of the alien warships – that is not my field of expertise. Yet if it will secure the korlons for the repair, then I will send inquiries regarding navigational assistance. You will remain in your vessel until further notice.”

The O’mly began to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turned back to the Humans. “You should know better than to arrive on Aslon without the proper currency. A thought has occurred to me. The landing fee is twenty
mi
-korlons, as is the departure fee. Even if your ship was space-worthy, I would not allow it to depart without payment of port fees. It appears as though you may have to arrange transportation to your partner fleet after all, or seek communication with them in some other fashion … since I will be holding your vessel as security until you can pay at least the port fees.”

“What the fuck! You can’t confiscate our ship.” Sherri said, stepping closer to the alien. Adam heard the clicking of talons become more prevalent as the other five creatures moved closer.

The lead O’mly leaned over Sherri. “I have never encountered the
Jusepi
before,” he said, “so I do not know how your society is managed. But here on Aslon, manners are set by the O’mly, and I say we
can
impound your ship until we are paid.” The alien lifted his right hand and began to slowly extend his two middle fingers towards Sherri’s face. The needle-sharp tips of the talons were only inches away. “Welcome to Aslon … off-worlder.”

Adam pulled Sherri away. “That will be fine,” he said quickly. “The ship will stay here until we can arrange for payment. Do we have your permission to seek trade within your city? I’m sure we should have something of value within our vessel, at least to cover the port fees.”

The alien continued to stare at Sherri even as he answered. “Granted, but you only have one cycle. If you have not secured payment by then, I
will
take your vessel as payment.
That
is a trade I will accept.”

Through his ATD, Adam could sense a dampening field being broadcast over the area. This would inhibit well-generation, rendering the gravity drive useless. But how the O’mly would keep him from using his chemical drive to escape was anyone’s guess. However, chem-drives were exceedingly slow and noisy, and the natives probably had some sort of weapons system capable of destroying ships either coming or going without permission. He reached out with his senses and detected a number of electronic systems operating within his range, even though he couldn’t detect any weapons – other than the primitive flash weapons carried by the dockmaster and his entourage. The dampening field was controlled from farther away than half-a-mile, so he would not be able to disable it unless he could get closer to the source. In any event, he still had a cycle – however long that was – to score some korlons.

And his best bet for accomplishing that was to find the nearest spacer’s bar.

Chapter 19

Nigel McCarthy…

W
hen Nigel left his base over four months ago to embark on his failed assault on Adam Cain’s headquarters on Pyrum-3, he’d left behind eighty virile and physically-fit examples of Human maleness. Mercenaries one and all, each of his men had prior military experience and were completely dedicated to the notion that mankind was the top-dog in the galaxy. Now, as the overpowering stench of feces and sweat hit him, Nigel knew most of these men had reached the end of their willpower to survive. There would be no salvaging these men. He would have to find another army – if he survived.

The shuttle hold was large – approximately two-hundred feet square and with a towering ceiling made up of the curving solid rock of the lava tube. The shuttles had been removed, and now it served exclusively as the prison for the shattered remains of his army.

The designers had seen fit to place a single loo in the room, which when used by eighty men over an extended period of time, had ceased to function after the first week or so. The alien scientists hadn’t bothered to fix the toilet, and even had the water cut off to the sink and shower because the men were drinking from them.

As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, Nigel could see dozens of corpses spread across the floor, with the barely-living shuffling slowly among them without concern. The few survivors were now a disgusting collection of emaciated men with torn clothing and gaunt, ghostly faces, resembling Holocaust victims from World War II. Concern entered McCarthy’s thoughts; he would need at least a few of these men healthy enough to carry out his plan. What he saw in the hangar-prison didn’t offer much hope.

 
As Kronis had said, the aliens had lost interest in the prisoners, forgetting to feed them for days, then as more of the men died, the scientists had decided to just let the rest of them expire. The experiments with the newer models of the artificial telepathy device were nearing an end, and soon the aliens would be leaving the base for their homeworlds, equipped with the means to make each of them rich and powerful beyond belief. The Humans would die then anyway, so why delay the inevitable?

As he stood near the door, unnoticed at first by the prisoners, Nigel could now clearly see that the survivors were divided into two distinct groups – the barely living and the stronger, healthier segment.
So, some have learned to survive, even under these conditions.
It wasn’t hard for Nigel to imagine how that had happened.

********

As the days, weeks and months passed, his men had reverted to a
Lord of the Flies
kind of existence, which must have been hard to do in a population of tough-as-nails equals. However, as in all societies, some did rise to the top. They dominated the rest, keeping most of the food and water for themselves. Even at that, this stronger group was now down to fourteen individuals, and after four months under these miserable conditions, most were on the last-leg of their will to survive.

********

Garrett Linfield was one of the
Lords
that ruled over what was left of the Humans. He had managed to claim larger portions of the rations for himself, and when the men resorted to cannibalism for survival, it was Garrett who took the first bite of Human flesh. He was a survivor, and as such, was one of the few who could still walk when Nigel was placed in the hangar and the door sealed behind him.

“I must be bloody-hell hallucinating,” Garrett said as he staggered up to McCarthy. “I thought you was dead?”

“Not hardly,” Nigel said as the rest of the survivors moved toward him in an eerie, slow-motion parade. “It looks like you men have let yourselves go. You would be amazed what a little exercise would do for your condition.”

“Ain’t you the funnyman, McCarthy? Look what your bloody scientists have done to us. They’ve treated us worse than bugs, and they haven’t even thrown any of that slop they call food in here for three or four days. The only thing that’s kept some of us alive is a leaking cooling conduit where we get our water … and the meat from some of the dead that weren’t too diseased.”

Nigel wrinkled his nose at the comment, surprised that Garrett would so readily admit to cannibalism.

“Now I suppose with you back and alive, all fat and happy, you’ll be the last man standing after you’ve eaten the last of us, Major, sir!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lieutenant,” Nigel replied looking the gaunt-faced man straight in the eye. “I intend to get us out of here, and I mean soon.”

Another of the survivors – Private First Class Doug Cromartie of the American Marines – leaned against a wall, supporting his weak legs as best he could. “How you going to do that, Major? We tried everything – when we had the strength. The fucking aliens always would suck out the air or turn off the heat anytime we tried anything. And now we have these fucking collars. And I know they have cameras set way up there and they watch us all the time.” He tried to lift his arm and point at the ceiling but his hand only made it as high as his chin.

“Cromartie’s right,” Garrett said. “Besides, we’re in no condition to fight. Looks like you waited too long to make an appearance.”

“So why are the aliens still here? Why didn’t they take off as soon as they had taken over the base?”

“Been working on some project,” Cromartie said. “Once they had us fitted with the collars, they had us move equipment around for them. That fat slob Kronis was the worst of them, too. What a sadistic bastard. He even took a couple of us out just so he could cut us open and see why we’re so strong.”

“He’ll be dealt with as soon as we get out of here,” Nigel assured him.

“We ain’t goin anywhere, Major,” Garrett said, his foul breath noticeable from even ten feet away. “They have those medallions, like you had. That’s doing it, isn’t it? That’s how they can control the collars … and other things. It’s the medallions you had them make.”

“Yeah, but I can stop them. When they made the first medallions for me, they made three extras. I know where they are.”

“Don’t tell, me, they’re in the lab?” Garrett turned and sat down heavily on an empty crate. “All you have to do is get in there, right?”

“That’s right. And I don’t even have to actually possess the medallion to make it work. I just need to be within about five or six meters.”

“How do you know the aliens haven’t converted them for their own use?”

“Because I felt them when I was with the aliens before, but I didn’t get close enough to fully activate them.”

“You felt them? Bloody-hell gone bonkers have you, McCarthy?”

“No, these medallions are tuned to me and me alone. We even built in a fail-safe where they couldn’t be converted, as you called it. They’re in the lab all right, and all I need to do is get close enough.”

A third man staggered up to them. He was Cameron Dukes, the Australian Nigel had left in charge of the base when he left. Even though Garrett Linfield had taken over the hangar, Dukes was still a formidable opponent, or at least he once had been. “So you need some way to get back in the lab.”

Nigel placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and was stunned to feel the prominent bone under the filthy, once-tan, short-sleeve shirt he wore. “It’s good to see you’re still around, Cam,” Nigel said, while offering an accusatory look in Garrett’s direction. Until a few moments ago, Garrett had ruled the prison. Now he knew he was no match for a healthy and well-fed Nigel McCarthy.

“Yeah, for what it’s worth; now what’s your plan?”

Nigel looked again at Garrett. “You may actually enjoy this, but the lab is also the sick bay, and after all of you have beaten the snot out of me, the aliens will have to take me there to get me patched up.”

“And why would they do that?” Cromartie asked. “Why wouldn’t they just let you die in here like the rest of us?”

“Because I have a secret that will make keeping me alive very important to them, and it’s the reason all of you are going to attack me.”

“What secret is that?” Garrett asked, skepticism dripping from his tone.

“I have no idea. I’m going to need a little time to work that one out.”

“You’re insane, man!” Cromartie said, turning away from Nigel in anger as fast as his frail body would allow.

“Major, we don’t have a lot of time,” this time it was Cameron Dukes complaining. “If you’re going to come up with a plan, it had better be quick.”

“And how are a bunch of near-dead zombies like us going to beat the crap out of
you
?” Nigel knew Garrett had probably been thinking these exact same words and now used this opportunity to express them verbally – while also getting some ideas.

Nigel stared at the once-virile warrior.
Yes, how is that going to happen exactly?
They would have to take him by surprise, and then swarm his body. But why would they do that? What could he have that the nearly-dead prisoners would not want him to divulge to the aliens?

Just then, the obvious answer popped into his head.

He moved over to the group of prisoners which now numbered six, barely-able-to-stand individuals. “Okay, this is how it’s going down,” he commanded. “Remember all the gold and credits we have stashed around here, from the good ol’ days of pillaging and plundering?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Major?” Even though he was dehydrated, spittle still shot out of Garrett’s mouth as he yelled.

“Listen up.” They all crowded in closer to their leader. “Even though my scientists are geniuses, they are not of the highest moral character. All of them had been banished from their homeworlds because of certain less-than-legal activities, all in pursuit of the almighty dollar – or credits in this case. That’s how they landed here. They’re in it for the money, mates. All we have to do is convince them that we have a huge treasure hidden in the base, and I’m willing to reveal the location for my freedom.”

“But we’re almost dead. Why would we care if you give up credits we’ll never live to spend? Besides, why don’t we trade the location for freedom ourselves?”

“Because, you idiot, there is no treasure.” Nigel had just about enough of Garrett Linfield he could handle. There was a good chance the obnoxious Cockney wouldn’t make it through this little charade alive. “All we’re trying to do is get me close to my medallions so I can get us out of here.”

“Okay, boss,” said Doug Cromartie. “Just tell us what to do.”

“Very good, and Cromartie I need you to play a very important part in this play. Since they’ll be watching, this is the op….”