Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 2: The Apex Predator (5 page)

Chapter 7

Aboard the Pegasus…

S
herri Valentine entered the lounge area of the
Pegasus
with a determined gait and a frown on her face. She stopped abruptly at the sofa where Adam was reclining and tossed something onto his stomach.

“You know what that is?” she asked sternly.

Adam returned the frown and picked up the object. “It looks like a ball of lint,” he replied, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

“A ball of lint, that’s exactly what it is!” Sherri confirmed. “And do you know where I got it?”

“I assume from the dryer.”

“
From the dryer
… that’s right! And how many times have I told you to clean out the lint filter before you dry your clothes? The last thing we need aboard a starship is a fire.”

“It’s an electric dryer, Sherri,” Adam countered. “It would take a lot to start a fire.”

“That doesn’t matter; it could still happen, and I’ve told you – repeatedly – to clean the filter, but you never listen to me.”

Adam was getting angry. First she storms into the lounge interrupting his exercises, and now she’s going on about something as trivial as cleaning out a lint trap. “Excuse me, Sherri, but I may have other things on my mind –
like trying to save the galaxy from marauding super-villains.
”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t take the time to clean out the damn lint-filter!”

“What exactly is your problem?” he asked, now sitting up on the couch. “You’ve been a real bitch for weeks now. I thought we got past all this?”

Sherri glared at him for a few tense moments, her jaw set tight and a vein in her neck adequately engorged. “What do you mean what’s wrong with
me
– what’s wrong with
you
? All you seem to do these days is lie around and play with the electronics on the ship. With all your new superpowers—” she emphasized the word
superpowers
with finger quotes— “all they’ve done is make you lazy. You’ve gained weight … and we never seem to have a meaningful conversation anymore.”

“I’ll lose the weight once we get back to Earth, and as far as having a conversation, what do you want to talk about? It seems every time we start any kind of discussion it disintegrates into a shouting match, and usually about Arieel Bol and the imaginary affair we’re having, even from nine thousand light-years apart.”

“I know the two of you have been talking, telepathically or through the CW. And the fact that you can do it without moving your frickin lips really pisses me off!”

“I’ve offered to have you get the implant too, but you keep refusing. You know I can’t do this job alone. You’re just being selfish for not agreeing to the procedure.”

“What, so I, too, can be wired into your exclusive little network with
Miss I’m-Too-Sexy-For-The-Galaxy
? No thanks. I value my privacy too much.”

“It’s not like that, Sherri. She can’t read my mind and I can’t read hers. I keep telling you that and
you
keep refusing to listen. We
can
communicate through the devices, but only when we choose.”

“Like just now?”

“No, I was practicing controlling the ship remotely – until you came barging in. There’s still a lot I have to learn about the device; that’s something else you refuse to understand. This thing inside me can do a lot more than simply turn switches on and off. To be effective, I need to know all it can do.”

Sherri turned away in a huff and plopped down in her favorite chair in the lounge, an over-padded recliner Adam and his group had found two years ago at the abandoned Human military base on Juir. It was well-worn and extremely comfortable, and Sherri sank into the cushions while hanging a leg over one of the chair’s wide arms. She was silent for a full minute before speaking again.

“I don’t know, Adam,” she began slowly, her voice more controlled than before. “It’s the commitment I fear … I think that’s what it is. If I had the same device implanted, giving me control over all the electronics within a half mile or so, then I’d have to commit to using and to joining you – and Arieel – in your crusade against evil throughout the galaxy. Do you know how hokie that sounds? It’s like something out of a comic book.”

“It’s true, however,” Adam said. “McCarthy may be dead, but his people know how to build the cheap knock-off devices like he had. What if thousands of those things suddenly appear throughout the galaxy? No computer would be secure – no locks, no banks … nothing. The only way to counter that is to have people like us tracking them down and stopping them.”

“But you have no evidence anything like that has happened.”

“Not yet, but McCarthy’s only been dead for about four months. We don’t know where his base is, or what the rest of his engineers and mercenaries are planning. He said he had an army of a hundred Humans, yet he only used twenty in attacking Pyrum-3. Somewhere there are another eighty Humans – all deadly mercenaries – along with a group of scientists with the knowledge to build artificial telepathy devices. If that doesn’t make you nervous then I don’t know what will?”

“It’s not that, Adam.” She hesitated again before continuing, “I just thought that with this trip back to Earth we might decide to stay … for good this time. I see now that’s not going to happen, at least not for you.”

Adam was afraid of this. Before leaving for Earth, the two of them had discussed his newfound responsibilities at length. He thought she understood and had come to terms with it. Apparently she was simply suppressing her true feelings or hoping he’d change his mind.

“You know, I do have an on-off switch for the device. Do you want me to turn it off, permanently?”

“Of course I do!” she cried out. “But that would be stupid and selfish on my part. If what you say does come true, then eventually people with the McCarthy-devices will reach Earth.”

“At that time I’ll just turn it back on – and start kicking some ass!” He flashed a big smile her way.

Sherri knew he wasn’t being serious, but she attempted a weak return smile all the same. “My hero,” she said dryly.

He stood and walked over to the recliner; he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll work it out, Sherri,” he said. “In the meantime, we’re supposed to be on vacation!”

“That will start in another two weeks. I don’t consider being cramped up in this metal tube as being on vacation.”

“Me neither,” Adam said as he stroked her flowing blonde locks. “But in a way it’s like being on vacation. After all, I haven’t killed an alien in months. I think I’m beginning to have withdrawals.”

“Give it time, Adam,” Sherri said, looking up at him with sad eyes. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to feed your addiction soon enough.”

“One can only hope.”

Chapter 8

30 Days Earlier on the planet Duelux…

D
aylight was just beginning to flood the vast parade field, carrying with it welcoming warmth and the promise of a glorious autumn day in the city of Morsbog. For several days prior, a thin overcast had filled the sky, keeping temperatures on the chilly side. Dormic Furkril had watched the weather with nervous anticipation as the day of the protest neared. If it was too cold then the crowds would be smaller and the news crews less-interested. With so much already set in motion, the last thing he needed was for the fickle nature of the weather to ruin it all.

Yet whether there were gods or not – Furkril didn’t care one way or the other – it did appear as though fortune would be smiling on him and his co-conspirators this day. It was shaping up to be warm and clear, and already several hundred of his fellow Jusepi had gathered on the field, preparing for the day’s event.

It was being billed as The Children’s Protest, where thousands of Jusepi couples would bring their offspring to march upon the provincial headquarters of the Human occupiers. The underlying meaning of the demonstration would be significant, since Jusepi only produce offspring every five years or so. Children were of paramount importance to the Jusepi, and maybe
their
calls for independence would be heard by the aliens. There were signs to be carried and songs to be sung, all in support for a return to a time before the tiny creatures from space landed upon the surface of Duelux, the home planet of the Jusepi Tribes. It would be the largest such protest in the five years since the Humans arrived, and Furkril flicked his ears rapidly in approval as he saw the first caravans of news vehicles begin to surround the parade field and unfurl their transmission gear.

The crowds would indeed be large and the coverage throughout the Jusepi Gathering extensive, with the clear weather allowing for the most-stunning visual representations of the events to come. The day would serve its purpose, Furkril kept telling himself, even though the necessity for such drastic steps still made him sick in his gullet. In the long-term his race would be better for the events that would take place today, here in the parade field, as well as at half-a-dozen other locations throughout the Gathering.

He scanned the sky above, knowing full well there was nothing to see – at least not yet. Even so, he knew that several miles away the crews were already boarding their ships and preparing for launch. From his perch on the roof of the Symbiosis Trade Building, Furkril could see across the field to the opposite side and the series of nine buildings that had been donated to the Humans to serve as their regional headquarters. The complex was almost two miles away, so he would be safe where he stood. The parade field was huge and open, devoid of trees, lakes or other encumbrances. The ships would have no trouble finding their targets.

The Senior Tribe Representative lifted a warm cup of
milage-dung
to his lips and gathered in its steaming sweetness. This dung was from a vintage batch reserved only for the legacy members of his Tribe, and laced with just a hint of Krymean blood.

The essence of the Krymea was a delicacy for the Jusepi ruling class. They were one of the three intelligent alien races the Jusepi had discovered during their brief foray into interstellar travel and colonization – before the Humans came with their superior spacecraft and technology. The other two races served as a very efficient slave labor force for the Jusepi; the Krymea, on the other hand, only served one useful purpose.

As Furkril took another sip of his beverage, he silently thanked the Krymea for their ultimate contribution to the well-being of the Jusepi rulers.
Perhaps a Krymean steak is in order for nightmeal – as a celebration of the day’s events
, Furkril thought. From this day forward, the Jusepi Tribes would never be the same, and that would indeed be cause for a feast.

********

Four sirumons later – the near equivalence of four hours – the parade field before Furkril was literally jammed with occupants, even more than he and his co-conspirators had ever imagined. There were easily a hundred-thousand Jusepi present, with clearly two thirds of them being offspring, the vast majority of which were under twenty-seasons in age. Dozens of news crews now documented the event, broadcasting to every corner of the Gathering and beyond. The transmissions were linked to Continuous-Wormhole communication stations, theoretically making today’s events observable across the entire galaxy – if anyone outside the Gathering was interested. If they weren’t at this time, they soon would be.

The organizers within the protest eventually began to herd the mass of Jusepi children and their parents in the general direction of the Human buildings. Although he could see the structures from where he stood, he couldn’t make out individuals within the distant complex, yet in his hand he held a datapad with a streaming view of the front gate of the compound. A dozen or so Human guards had moved into position, each armed with angry-looking projectile weapons, which seemed to be the preferred armament of the aliens. The Humans looked nervous.

Furkril checked the time marker on the datapad, and as the moment arrived, he looked up into the southern sky just in time to see the first distance dots representing the approaching spacecraft. In a flash they were above the parade field … which suddenly erupted into dozens of gigantic explosions, the end result of the bombardment sent down from the ships streaking past.

A deafening cacophony of screams and cries of pain filled the parade field, as thousands of Jusepi were torn to shreds by the explosions. Clouds of black smoke, mixed with dark brown soil and bloody body parts, were thrown into the air, only to rain down upon the panicked masses as they crushed against one another in a futile attempt to escape the carnage.

But the attacking ships weren’t done. The dozen or so silver disks flew high into the sky, nearly disappearing from view, until they looped back over and came in from the south once again for another strafing run. Thousands more Jusepi were slaughtered.

Then right on time, three oblong Jusepi warships – ancient throwaways acquired from the fringes of the Expansion – appeared from the north, coming to the aid of Furkril’s people. The attacking disks soared high into the air and disappeared – all except one straggler. The Jusepi defenders sent out three lashing bolts of blue energy at their target, striking the disk-shaped spacecraft directly on its underbelly; the craft wobbled, and then began a slow descent toward the surface.

It struck near the center of the parade field, crushing dozens of more fleeing Jusepi as it did, and even before it had come to a complete rest, hundreds of angry Jusepi were already climbing the smoking hull and attempting to rip open the hatchway to the inside. Furkril nodded his approval as the hatch opened on its own, and the vengeful horde poured inside.

Moments later, they began to pull out the already dead bodies of several Humans … just as the new crews closed in for a better look.

This would be indisputable proof as to the identity of the attackers, broadcast live throughout the Gathering … and all the way to Earth.

Furkril looked down at his datapad. The second phase of the plan was just about to begin….

********

The Human military maintained three bases within the Jusepi Gathering, two on Duelux and a third on a hostile, heavy-gravity world requiring an underground complex to shelter it from the elements. The alien fleet numbered one-hundred-twelve ships, mostly small class A’s with crews of twenty-five. When the Humans first arrived in the region, they had maintained a high level of readiness and security within their bases, yet over the years – and with no overt resistance from the Jusepi – things had relaxed considerably.

So, when the Jusepi Highorder complained to the Humans that radiation leaks had been detected coming from their ships, they had quickly agreed to allow outside inspectors aboard their ships. The Humans knew there were no leaks, so they had nothing to fear from the surveys. They recalled all their ships from their current assignments and landed them at the three bases. Jusepi inspectors then boarded the ships, carrying with them an array of testing equipment – or so it appeared.

An hour after the first attacking disks appeared in the skies above the Morsbog parade field, the Jusepi aboard the Human ships withdrew needle-lasers and summarily executed every Human they could find. The Klin had provided the weapons, assuring the Jusepi that the lasers would kill the Humans, contrary to the myths of Human invulnerability to energy weapons.

Within minutes, Jusepi operatives were in control of all one-hundred twelve advanced warships, and now these ships launched and immediately laid waste to the three Human military bases, killing hundreds of additional Humans in the process.

********

Furkril scanned the datapad a few minutes later and his ears flickered even more rapidly, as the reports of the successful attack on the Human military bases began to filter in. From start to finish, the elimination of Human military forces from within the Gathering had taken less than a
sirumon
. And not only that, but now his forces were in control of over a hundred of the most-advanced warships in the galaxy. When coupled with their current inventory – including the hidden fleet provided by the Klin – the Jusepi Tribes now ranked as one of the most-powerful military forces in this part of the galaxy.

And soon the planners of the day’s revolt would have all the Jusepi public on their side, and the cry for vengeance would rise up as the sickening images of the bloody massacre in the parade field were broadcast continuously throughout the Gathering.

Furkril and his allies would have their war, and with the backing of the mysterious Klin, the Jusepi would soon become the new rulers of what the Klin called the
Far Arm
– and with Dormic Furkril as Chief of the Highorder.

He looked down at the thousands of shattered bodies littering the field below and experienced a surprising emotional detachment. He didn’t bother with trying to understand his lack of compassion for his fellow Jusepi; rather all he could think of was his legacy for generations to come. This was a major turning point for the Jusepi, and it would be Furkril who would lead them to glory and power. To that end, sacrifices had to be made, and the dead and dying on the field below would ultimately serve their purpose for the greater good of the Jusepi Tribes.

For his part, Furkril felt no guilt or shame for his actions. It was for this same greater good that he did the things he did, and with plenty of
good
left over for Furkril and his brood.