Scorched Earth: (The Human Chronicles Saga Book #16) (6 page)

It had all been bullshit, of course. What the masses on the planet took as supernatural abilities were nothing more than manipulations of modules and static electricity through the brain interface, what Adam called his artificial telepathy device, or ATD. It was true; he could communicate telepathically with other creatures with similar implants. Fortunately—or unfortunately—he was the only person in the galaxy who currently had such a device.

However, his ATD did allow him to communicate with the three-billion-year-old personal service module he’d named Pogo. The pale green orb was a remnant of an ancient race of beings who had evolved to a state of almost pure energy and exceptional mental capacity. As Pogo explained, the Aris—as they were called—still had bodies, yet they weren’t required to communicate or to travel mentally throughout the universe. Pogo had been the personal property of one of the last remaining Aris, feeding energy to the being much like one would feed a Human baby. He also assisted with certain physical manipulations the Aris were unable to accomplish on their own.

Adam was amazed by the tiny orb’s intelligence, as well as its ability to teleport for distances of up to a hundred feet. Even though it was of a design and technology light-years ahead of anything currently existing in the Milky Way, Adam got the impression that to the Aris, Pogo was nothing more than a toy or a snack cart, called upon when they needed a quick pick-me-up of pure energy.

Adam now used his Formilian brain-interface device to scan the local surroundings at the Tigan truck stop, looking for any concentrations of energy. The place was filled with literally hundreds of sources, from air circulators and flash weapons to three-foot-square cold-fusion reactors that powered most of the colony. He began to press through the crowd, continuing his search, with Riyad trailing behind, serving as Adam’s eyes against unknown threats.

There was a fair number of Juireans in the crowd, yet they didn’t move with the same nervous desperation as most of the others. They had always been cocky SOB’s, and now with an overwhelming numerical superiority in warships compared to the Union, this air of confidence and invincibility filtered all the way down to the lowly green-haired Guard rank. They were masters of the universe, and once again were about to prove it to the galaxy.

“Got it!” Adam announced. “Huge signature, about a hundred yards to our right.”

Riyad looked around. “The battery bank is going to be heavy, even here. We’ll have to take it out on a cart. Do you see a shorter route back to the ship?”

Adam scanned the area. “Doesn’t look like it, not unless we puncture the exterior wall and hoof it outside.”

“Not something I would prefer, but if necessary our suits will provide us with protection.”

“Let’s see what we’re up against first. Follow me.”

********

Most of the shops lining the huge rectangular center of the service colony had alien guards representing a variety of species posted at their doors. Not so the battery store. They carried products that weren’t easily transported, making shoplifting a non-issue.

The two Humans entered, and were barely acknowledged by the four creatures working the store. This seemed odd since no other customers were in the shop at the time. Adam walked up to the counter.

“We need an A-33 battery bank, charged if possible.”

The clerk was a scaly, yellow-skinned creature standing about six feet tall and about the same in width. He was of the two-armed variety of alien, yet only had three stubby fingers and a thumb on his smallish hands.

Without looking up from his datapad, he shouted. “Do we have any A-33’s?”

No one answered back immediately, prompting Adam to say, “We’re in a hurry, if you don’t mind?”

Now the creature looked up. He took a moment to scan the black armor and peer as best he could through the tinted visor. “What are you?”

“Does it matter? We just need a new battery bank. Do you have one?”

“Donic!”

“No,” came the reply. “But we have two A-20’s.”

The clerk looked at Adam. “Link them together and you have more energy than an A-33. Combined, they are about the same size.”

“Are they charged?”

“Are they charged?” the creature yelled.

“Partially. Enough to initiate a generator spin.”

“We’ll take them,”  Adam said.

The creature looked hard at the Human. “Do you not wish to know the cost?”

“Sure…how much are they?”

Stubby fingers punched keys on the datapad. “Nineteen thousand Juirean credits.”

“Nineteen thousand!” Riyad said, speaking for the first time. “Standard thirties only cost around nine.”

“Not here. The price is nineteen thousand, no negotiation.”

“All right, we’ll take them.”

“Credits?”

“Bring them out first; I wish to inspect them,” Adam demanded.

The alien looked confused. “They are battery banks,” he said. “What is there to inspect?”

“They’re not A-33’s. I wish to check the configuration.”

The clerk waddled away and returned three minutes later pushing a four-wheeled cart with two, eight-foot long black boxes on top. The containers measured three feet on each side with the ends a maze of connecting wires.

Adam stepped up to the cart. “Formilian?” he asked.

“What other kind is there…Human?” the clerk snickered. “Now payment.”

“You’ll get paid when they’re delivered to our ship.”

The fat jowls of the yellow beast bobbled. “That is not how it is done here. Pay first, delivery second.”

Adam turned to Riyad. “Time to pay up.”

“I suppose so.”

Human battle armor consists of hidden compartments along the thighs of each leg where compact M-101 Triple-C’s assault rifles are stored. The Consolidated Close-Combat weapon was a compact amalgamation of nearly every component available, lightweight and with short, suppressed barrels. They carried composite-jacketed .45-caliber ballistic rounds, as well as a powerful plasma bolt launcher. There was an M-4 grenade launcher below the thin, ten-inch high body, along with a pencil-laser and built-in night-vision scope. The weapons were concealed in the leg compartments so they could be carried anonymously within crowds without causing panic.

Now Adam and Riyad activated release panels and the weapons popped out on articulated arms.

The M-101’s were up and aimed at the clerk and the rest of the workers in a flash. The clerk eyed the weapons, first with concern and then with curiosity.

“You are robbing us…
of battery banks
?” His voice was incredulous.

“That’s right,” Adam replied. “We’re desperate, and we need the battery packs, in fact more than I care if you live or die.”

“That is a rather rude statement.”

“Riyad, do the honors.”

Tarazi moved behind the cart and began to guide it toward the exit. That was when two of the other clerks got the courage up to try and stop him.

The clerks were of the same fat, yellow variety as the main alien—Tigans more than likely—and Riyad was surprised at how fast they were in the combined gravity of the station. The pair struck from behind, grabbing Riyad by his arms. He spun around, breaking their weak holds while lifting the M-101 to firing level. He shoved the barrel against the chest of one of the attackers. “Don’t press your luck.”

“On your left!” Adam yelled. The fourth clerk had just produced an MK-17 flash weapon. Both Humans shifted the aim of the weapons, followed by a series of muffled puffs from the muzzled barrels. The clerk literally exploded, releasing a shower of yellow and red mucus as if a giant water balloon had just burst.

The store was in chaos, as the other three clerks scrambled for their own flash weapons. Riyad swept his rifle fire along a level plane, cutting two of the Tigans in half.

Only the main clerk remained, and Adam turned to see him exposing an MK from behind the counter. Adam reached out with his left arm and took the creature by the neck. Even as round and fat as the alien was, Adam easily hoisted him over the counter and tossed him to the floor.

“Don’t bother with a receipt,” Adam said, mere moments before a blast of hot lead caused the rotund head of the alien to disappear.

Sloshing through alien innards and blood, Adam lead the way out of the store, with Riyad pushing the cart with the bulky power modules behind him. Even though their assault rifles carried suppressors, the sound of shouts and gunshots still carried into the area directly outside the store. With the crowded state of the station, plenty of creatures heard the disturbance and stopped to look inside. Now they panicked, fleeing from the horrific scene while squealing in a variety of alien languages.

Adam turned left outside the store and rushed toward the main central courtyard. Access to the landing field was just beyond the huge square.

A hundred feet or so beyond the battery store, the crowd was still frantic, although most of the fleeing creatures had no idea why. All they were doing was going with the flow of others running from some unknown threat. The Humans mingled with the crowd as best they could—while pushing a cart with two eight-foot long metal boxes on it—which served as an effective battering ram against the slower pedestrian traffic in their path.

The colony had its own security force, which not surprisingly, wasn’t made up of the fat, yellow-skinned Tigans. Like most places in the Kidis Frontier, nasty creatures of every variety came to the region seeking employment as enforcers, bodyguards, mercenaries…and security guards. Adam and Riyad were soon confronted by a United-Nations-like assortment of aliens, all armed and with radioed-in descriptions of the perpetrators.

The first contingent was made up of five guards. By the time they spotted the black-armored Humans, it was too late. Sure, Adam could have used his ATD to shut down the alien’s flash weapons rather cut them apart as he did with his M-101. But that would had taken time and concentration. Besides, there was far too many flash weapons in the courtyard for him to reach out and negate each one of them individually. He had his trusty assault rifle, and it was a more-comforting presence in his arms than playing tricks with his mind.

His firing also produced even more covering panic in the crowd.

Three Juireans were being hustled about in the courtyard along with the other aliens. They stood nearly eight feet tall with their magnificent manes of colored hair and could see over most of the commotion. Adam saw the trio moments before they saw him. Taking aim while on the run, he sighted the rifle on the alien’s green bouffant hair styles and fingered the trigger. Heads exploded in a spray of red.

Adam smiled. It had been a while since he’d killed a Juirean. It felt good.

The pair of Humans—along with their over-sized cargo—were now through the courtyard and at the starship service tubes.

“Hold!” a booming voice called out from behind them.

Riyad spun the cart around, and the ends of the two long battery banks smashed against a line of three Juireans who had moved up behind him. The aliens tumbled, while four more took aim with their MK’s.

The room erupted in a blaze of light as plasma weapons discharged. Adam and Riyad dove for the deck, landing on their stomachs with assault rifles extended out in front of them. The flash of the alien weapons was soon overshadowed on the hail of lead streaming from the 101’s at ankle level. Several Juireans fell, their feet cut out from under them, only to be met with more bullets as they lay writhing on the floor.

Adam and Riyad stood and scanned the area. There were a dozen or so other aliens—non-Juireans—in the area, each with flash weapons in their hands. They were careful not to aim them at the pair of black armored killers; instead they stared at the Humans, uncertain what to do next. In some strange way, Adam hoped the aliens
would
raise their weapons. This form of live combat was really getting his juices flowing.