A Clash of Aliens (The Human Chronicles Book 13) (18 page)

Adam bowed flamboyantly, before gushing: “It is indeed a great honor on my part to meet the Scribes of J’nae. I must thank you for instructing your most skilled and confident agent Fanon to save me from the Sol-Kor prison I was in.” At this point, Adam would kiss whatever ass he had to if it helped get him home. He was hoping he didn’t overdo it…

Gan laughed. “Your comments are appreciated, although I detect some of Lun’s contribution to the enthusiasm you display. And as for you, Agent Fanon, I find your appearance both disturbing and amusing. I understand you are to undergo a reversal procedure soon?”

“I am quite anxious to shed this horrid exterior. I get such vicious looks from those unaware of my mission.”

“Ranking Officer Lun, see to it that Fanon is given top priority. His service and sacrifice on behalf of the Hal’ic is to be richly rewarded.”

“Adam Cain?” said Scribe Vaz Nah—Adam believed that was his name—having all these new names thrust upon him was going to take some getting used to. “May I inquire as to your profession on your homeworld? Since you arrived with specialists to assassinate the Eternal Queen, I assume you have military training?”

“Yes, Scribe Vaz Nah—I hope I am addressing you correctly.”

“Just Vaz will do. We are within the inner chambers, no need to abide by formalities.”

“Yes, Vaz, I am a captain in what was once our naval forces. I now hold the same rank in the combined forces of the Orion-Cygnus Union, the stellar empire presided over by my race.”

“You are called Humans?”

“Yes, from the planet Earth.”

“You do realize the name translates into dirt, ground, and other such terms?”

“It’s been an ongoing glitch in the translation programs.”

“Do not apologize. It could also reflect a deep reverence for the ground from which your race evolved.”

Adam’s smile was genuine. “That’s possible, but knowing my people, I doubt it.”

Gan spoke again: “You are humble even within your own minds. That is to be admired. Now, continuing with the last line of inquiry: since you arrived on Kor with only limited personnel, are we also to assume that you—and those who came with you—are the most highly-skilled military operatives in your galaxy? We have assumed you would have to be such to have been chosen for the mission, and to have carried it off successfully.”

Adam smiled. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. But it is a fact that my race does have a propensity for warfare. Others accuse us of being savages, which is why we are so good at it, I guess. Unfortunately, it is a skill acquired through countless wars against our own kind.”

“We know of such concepts, although since the coming of the Sol-Kor, we have not suffered from such internal struggles for a very long time.” Gan turned his head toward first one and then the other Scribe. Adam wasn’t sure if they shared some psychic ability, but when his attention turned back to Adam, he spoke as if a decision had been jointly arrived at.

“We wish to be honest with you, Adam Cain. The Hal’ic have grown into a highly advanced and powerful race. We number nearly two billion individuals, and we possess factories and other facilities which allow us to maintain this population and civilization well hidden from the occasional Sol-Kor fly-overs. Yet we also suffer from a fatal condition.”

Damn
. Adam didn’t want to hear that. He was beginning to like the Hal’ic.

His mind began to wander. Did it have something to do with living underground for so long, or was there a disease spreading through the confined spaces? Was it something hereditary…?

When the Scribe didn’t continue, Adam was forced to pull it out of him. “What is this condition? Is there nothing you can do about it?”

“Yes, there is something we can do. And that is why we have brought you here, to save the Hal’ic race from extinction.”

********

Adam cursed his fertile imagination. All he could see now was the image of his body strapped to the table of a mad scientist as his blood was slowly drained from his body and passed along to waiting rows of Hal’ic lying on similar tables. Thousands of years without sunlight had left the aliens with a severe vitamin D deficiency, and if they didn’t get
his
blood, they would all die a horrible and painful death—all two billion of them.

But that was not what Scribe Gan said.

“Adam Cain, the Hal’ic people lack experience.”

Adam was momentarily stunned, both from the simplicity of the statement and from his return to reality after his flight of imagination.

“Experience? I don’t understand. In what way?”

“It is quite simple,” the Scribe said. “We number two billion, and our active military comprises nearly nine million of them, with over a hundred million more engaged in support activities. We have over two hundred thousand military starships of various kinds built and ready for action. We have the means of counteracting the Sol-Kor influencing beams. We even have advanced weaponry far beyond what the feeders possess. We are so close to Kor, and yet the evil beasts have no suspicion that we exist. For thousands of years, all the Hal’ic have done is prepare for the moment when we would seek revenge against the Sol-Kor. Adam Cain, the Hal’ic are ready. Our time has come.”

“So what’s the problem?

“The problem? Since the Hal’ic have spent our entire existence underground and in hiding, our military lacks any kind of real experience beyond what simulators can provide. We have trained and we have drilled, yet there is no substitute for real-life experience…the type of experience
you
have lived.”

“But you say you have simulators?”

“Yes, we do. Yet we have never been able to hold any large scale operational exercises. We have not had to change tactics in the heat of a real battle. We have not experienced battlefield injuries or the agony of seeing friends fall in combat, at least in true form. We have never had to fight…for real, not for five thousand years.”

“Those are things that can’t be taught,” Adam said quickly. “They happen as they happen and you just have to pray you can handle it.”

“That is exactly our point. Unless we’ve experienced such events firsthand, we do not
know
how we will react.”

“Nobody really does, not until it’s staring them in the face.”

“You and your people have thousands of years of history demonstrating how others have reacted to such tragedies and necessities of war. You may not have personally experienced them all, yet your species has. This knowledge—along with instinctive courage—is ingrained in your being. War and combat is not something you fear, because—as you say—you can
handle
it.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Scribe Gan. Fear is a constant in battle. I’d even go so far to say it’s a necessity. It keeps you sharp, alert, and open to options. Only a fool isn’t afraid in combat.”

“Adam Cain,” said Scribe Kaos Luz, speaking for the first time. “It is for such insights as those that we have sought you out…so you can lead our forces in a mighty confrontation with the evil Sol-Kor, to help bring eternal freedom and sunlight to the Hal’ic of J’nae.”

Adam’s jaw fell open. He looked over at Fanon and Lun; both shared his look of astonishment.

“You can’t be serious? I’m just one man.”

“What is a
man
?”

“That’s another word for a Human.”

“Oh, I see the correlation now.”

“Good, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. I can’t possibly lead a nine-million strong army—as well as two hundred thousand starships—in a war against the Sol-Kor.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because…I just can’t. I’m not Hal’ic. Hell, I’m not even from this universe.”

“Those are not valid arguments. Is not the Sol-Kor your enemy as well?”

“They are, but we’re talking big numbers here. There’s a trillion of them, compared to your two billion.”

“Is
that
your major concern, that we are too few?”

“That is one of my concerns.”

“Will not your race join in our struggle? It was our understanding they would.”

Adam looked at Fanon. “I said I would
try
to convince them, but I can’t do that and lead your forces at the same time, not from here. I need to get back Earth.”

“The only way to return you would be to secure transfer portals currently controlled by the Sol-Kor. We can only secure those through conflict.”

Adam’s mind was racing. He was confused and desperate. Something was happening here that could turn out really good for him. Or really bad. He felt his brain wasn’t firing fast enough on all cylinders for him to tell which.

“So you would start the war even before you get any commitment from Earth to help?”

“It would appear to be our only option, if we are to gain the support of your people.”

“But…you can’t win, not in the long-term.”

“Yet, in the short-term…we have you.”

 “No you don’t. I just want to get home, and I need to do it soon. Anytime now my friends are going to show up on Kor looking for me, and they’re all going to die if I don’t get back before they make the jump.”

“And what if Kor is a smoldering wasteland when they arrive, with no opposition waiting to destroy them? Would that not serve your friends’ purposes as well?”

“Sure it would. But defeating Kor…you gotta be crazy.”

“I assure you, Adam Cain, we are not crazy. Within the space of a couple of days, the Hal’ic could unleash upon Kor a military force of such overwhelming proportions that the feeders could not possibly counter.”

“Then you don’t need me.”

“We need to you guide the invasion, to study the battlefields, to alter plans if it becomes necessary. But most importantly, we need your instincts for war.”

“And what if you do smash Kor? What about all the other goddamn Sol-Kor spread across half a dozen universes? Do you think they’ll just shrivel up and die once their homeworld is destroyed? I’ve seen the Sol-Kor in action. They are single-minded and unaffected by mass losses. They will descend upon J’nae—the planet J’nae—so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

“Then we will fight them on other fronts,” said Gan Doli. “Please realize the Hal’ic have done nothing for the past five millennia but prepare for this moment. If we all die—and the Sol-Kor die as well—we will be content with that reckoning. And if the feeders do come out ahead, their power and influence will be greatly diminished. The Sol-Kor are but one species, and look what they have managed to do. The Hal’ic are one people as well. Why can we not be the death of the feeders? The answer is: we can be…with the proper leadership. With your leadership.”

Adam felt weak-kneed, yet there was no place to sit. If he could have, he would have squatted right there on the floor. He looked at the faces of the five Hal’ic in the room. All eyes were on him.

“You know what pressure this puts on me?”

“You have apparently lived a life of pressure—and of responsibility—and you have survived. All we ask is that you guide us. Help us make the right decisions as the battle advances. Help us rid the universe—all universes—of the scourge of the Sol-Kor.”

“When are you planning to launch your attack?”

“Whenever you say we are ready.”

“And once you and your commanders have gained enough real-world experience…and we’ve captured a transit portal?”

“Then you can return home to help enlist the assistance of your people, and all the peoples of your universe.”