Children of the Aris: Set in The Human Chronicles Universe Read online

  CHILDREN OF THE ARIS

  THE ADAM CAIN SAGA BOOK 9

  T.R. HARRIS

  SET IN THE HUMAN CHRONICLES UNIVERSE

  Copyright 2020

  by Tom Harris Creations, LLC

  All rights reserved.*

  Cover design by Matthew Kadish

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  NOVELS BY T.R. HARRIS

  The Adam Cain Saga

  The Dead Worlds

  Empires

  Battle Plan

  Galactic Vortex

  Dark Energy

  Universal Law

  The Formation Code

  The Quantum Enigma

  Children of the Aris

  The Human Chronicles

  The Fringe Worlds

  Alien Assassin

  The War of Pawns

  The Tactics of Revenge

  The Legend of Earth

  Cain’s Crusaders

  The Apex Predator

  A Galaxy to Conquer

  The Masters of War

  Prelude to War

  The Unreachable Stars

  When Earth Reigned Supreme

  A Clash of Aliens

  Battlelines

  The Copernicus Deception

  Scorched Earth

  Alien Games

  The Cain Legacy

  The Andromeda Mission

  Last Species Standing

  Invasion Force

  Force of Gravity

  Mission Critical

  The Lost Universe

  The Immortal War

  Destroyer of Worlds

  Phantoms

  Terminus Rising

  The Last Aris

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  CONTENTS

  The alien with an attitude is back!

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

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  THE ALIEN WITH AN ATTITUDE IS BACK!

  THE ADAM CAIN SAGA CONTINUES

  Adam Cain and friends are back!

  Let the adventure begin!

  PROLOGUE

  ON THE WINDSWEPT escarpments of the Silorus Highlands, the three figures stumbled over rocks and scrub brush, their hands filthy, matching pale yellow robes caked in mud. They were on their own at this point; the others had gone ahead to prep the starship for departure. The trio was not used to such physical labor, although it did not bother them; however, most tasks surrounding them were accomplished by machines and servants. Their status dictated such. But desperation changed many things. And desperate they were—not to be running for their lives, but running for their freedom.

  They struggled to gain altitude and distance, keeping ahead of their pursuers; an army of robots and Technicians. The Aris had recently overrun the last bastions of the resistance on Voskin’or and were now relentlessly searching for the leaders of the failed rebellion, along with their precious cargo.

  Garus never intended to lead an uprising against the most powerful race of beings in the Second Epoch; however, Nunki left him no choice. The Aris must not be allowed to reacquire the device. For three hundred years after its discovery, only the Luz were aware of its existence. And then the code was discovered that brought everything to light. The Luz programmed the stack and initiated the first constructions; the three beings now awkwardly scaling the loose rock and gravel of the mountainside.

  Another two hundred years passed before news leaked out about the immortal beings. Then the Aris swept in and confiscated the Formation and the Masters. It made sense. The Luz were the discarded members of the Aris race from their failed attempts to create immortality from their own kind. Now, here were three immortals, born from the genetic material of the Luz. Undoubtedly, Aris genius would allow them to assimilate this ability into the bodies of the Privileged. But that was not to be. After hundreds of failed experiments on the Masters, it became apparent the material was not compatible with that of the Aris. Garus knew why; Nunki was only now coming to suspect.

  In a desperate act, the Masters then stole the Formation disks and fled to Voskin’or, to be hidden by the Luz.

  Then came the conflict.

  By then, Nunki had other plans for the Formation, one that he and others believed could ultimately fulfill their goals. At that point, they cared not for the Masters. All the Aris wanted were the disks.

  The Aris's desire to suspend change to their bodies was what brought them to the point of killing tens of thousands of their own blood, even if that blood had a slight genetic variation from the original. To Garus, this was a form of genocide, destroying that which you had created. The Luz were as much Aris as were the Privileged, certainly more than the Technicians. Their genius proved it, their accomplishments well noted over the past thousand years.

  What the Privileged sought was not possible through the Masters—that had been proven. But it was possible through the Formation. And that was why they would never possess it. Not if Garus had his way.

  The goal of biologic immortality had been an obsession of the Aris for thousands of years. Although every attempt failed—with the mutated results exiled to Voskin’or—what the Aris inadvertently created was an offshoot species, one that eventually began mating among themselves and developed a society independent of the Aris. By this time, the Aris had foregone most reproduction, satisfied with what they had become and determined to keep it that way. They feared evolution, believing it would change who they were, what they had become.

  The fear was justified. Over the million years of their civilization, the Aris of old bore no resemblance to the Aris of today. The ancients were looked upon as less than Aris, more animal and certainly not the galaxy's dominant lifeform. And therein lay the paradox. Nunki and the other Privileged could not accept that the Aris of the future would look back on them in the same light. In their opinion, the Privileged were perfect. The goal then became to remain that way—forever.

  Only immortality would make
that happen. Once a creature became immortal, evolution was no longer necessary. The organism would remain in its perfect state for forever—or until it evolved into something different. And that produced another quandary. The Aris needed not only to create an immortal Aris but also find a way to retard evolution.

  At first, they sought to alter the genetics of existing Aris, using the Technicians for their experiments. The Luz—which in the Aris language means Results—were less than satisfactory. At first, the exiles to Voskin’or were horribly deformed creatures that did not survive long. Others were mindless oafs who suffered the same fate. But then a more stable form of Luz was created, and soon the population began to grow, even as the Aris stagnated. Over a thousand years, the Luz developed both technology and a desire for exploration, another quality currently lacking in the Aris. After a million years of civilization, the Aris had been everywhere and done everything. But not the Luz. They traveled the galaxy, marveling in the wanderlust and discovering things that were new to them.

  It was during this age of discovery that the Luz found the Formation.

  The Luz discovered the strange organic wafers several hundred years before they knew what they were. When additional artifacts were found, the Luz began to realize what they had. They programmed the stack according to the initial instructions, and the Masters emerged. From then on, the Masters controlled all experiments with the Formation while guiding the development of the Luz.

  When finally revealed to the Aris, the Masters were welcomed into their culture, something they had not done for any of the Luz before them. But this was just a ruse to learn their secrets of immortality and not to make them true members of society. At first, the efforts were subtle before turning more overt. When everything else failed, the Aris held the Masters prisoners and did unspeakable experiments on them, as if Garus and the others were consciously keeping the power of immortality from the Privileged.

  After their escape, the Masters returned to Voskin’or, secured the elements of the Formation, and then led a defense of the Luz, which the Aris viewed as a rebellion.

  At first, the Aris did not fare well in the conflict. They had not fought a war in over two hundred thousand years, and with their diminished numbers, the Luz prevailed in the early battles. But then the overall genius of the Aris began to manifest. Although the Luz were intelligent and accomplished—and much more physically savage—only the Masters were of equal or greater intellect as the Aris. Technology soon became the determining factor in the war, not the strength of numbers or even the will of the participants. Eventually, the Aris gained the upper hand.

  And then it came down to this final battle on the Silorus Highlands, a battle lost by the Luz. But the war wasn’t over. Garus, Docem and Panof had already made plans to escape the planet. There was another world, one that had been established as a backup to Voskin’or. There, the Masters would hide the Formation while using its incredible power to rebuild the Luz race, or perhaps something different, something guaranteed to defeat the evil Aris.

  There! said Docem, pointing. No sound was heard in the Highlands' thin air, only the voice in the heads of his companions. I see the vessel. We are almost there.

  When they arrived at the waiting starship, Garus found it strange that no one was inside. Eight of their most loyal subjects had been sent ahead to prepare the vessel. Instead, all they found was a cold engine.

  Garus wasn’t worried; all three of the Masters could easily pilot the vessel; after all, much of its design was based on their imagination. What frustrated him was the abandonment by his servants. That was unforgivable. They would suffer consequences for their disloyalty.

  The Masters removed the eight boxes containing the Formation wafers from pouches in their robes and set them on a counter behind the control station. They then assumed takeoff positions, with Garus as the pilot. He was the First Master, the leader. He would take command.

  He initiated the warmup of the engines.

  And that’s when he discovered the true depth of his servant’s treachery.

  Garus, I know you can hear me.

  The First Master instantly recognized the thought as that of Nunki, the leader of the Aris Privileged. He frowned. The telepathy transplants allowed for this form of communication, but not at such distance. Nunki either had to be using an extender … or he was near.

  The other Masters were linked into the conversation. They froze at their stations, curious why the Aris leader was contacting them at this point? Did he know their location?

  I hear you, Nunki. You should know you are too late. I will never let you have the Formation again.

  Garus could feel the frustration in Nunki’s thoughts. Why do you insist on such delusion? You know it is only a matter of time before you are caught. As Masters, I would imagine that thought should not frighten you. Although you know you will be imprisoned, you will outlive your captors.

  So you say, Garus replied telepathically. We know what Aris imprisonment means. We have experienced it firsthand.

  And yet still you live.

  We continue our flight because we cannot predict the future. We exist today only because you have not yet figured a way to strip our bodies of our essence and assimilate it for yourselves. However, I give you credit, Nunki, that one day you may find the solution. And even if that day does not come, you will not leave us to our own means, not while you and your kind lay helpless in your artificial coffins, awaiting a future that will never come.

  You have no faith in Aris genius. The Grand Experiment has been proven to be viable.

  Proven through your billion-year extrapolations. As I said, we cannot predict the future, and neither can you. You can model all you want, but there are too many variables in your plan. And that is why you cannot allow my kind to survive while your race withers away in a prison of your own making. Because of this, you will devise some form of permanent jail for us, as well. That is your genius. Our fleeing demonstrates our respect for your creativity.

  That is not respect, only your paranoia speaking, Nunki thought. The Aris have never sought hostile discourse with the Masters or the Luz. We do not now. All we want is the Formation so we can move beyond this unfortunate chapter in our history. And for that, I am offering integration.

  It is too late for that. There are only the three of us.

  Then it is fortunate that we have determined that the Masters are to be the only Luz acceptable to the Aris.

  Are you offering us full integration into Aris society, unlike before? Panof asked.

  Is it not worthy of discussion?

  Do not trust him, Docem thought. It is a ploy. They offered this to us before.

  I need not ploys to capture you. But capture is not what I seek. It is only the Formation.

  Then why this conversation? Garus asked. We are not going to surrender, and we will never let you have the Formation. We will destroy it before we submit. He cast a glance at Panof. He was the weakest of the three.

  I know better than that. I know now what the Formation means to the Masters. I know where it came from, where you came from.

  It is but a guess, Garus replied.

  An educated guess. And it is because of my ability to discern your true nature and intentions that I knew this would be your response to my offer of integration, even before I persuaded your servants to abandon you.

  He knows where we are! Garus thought to himself. He must be near.

  Garus desperately tried again to engage the engines. As before, there was nothing. The ship had been sabotaged. There was no way off the planet.

  Do not fear, Garus, Nunki thought. All you need to do is accept the inevitable. I am told the process is painless. And as you have already deduced, it is also forever…

  Garus cast a panicked look back at the eight boxes of Formation disks. They disappeared before his eyes, leaving a concave indentation in the metal shelf on which they were placed.

  A teleportation beam, Garus thought.

  Nunki has th
e Formation! Panof exclaimed. We have failed; there is nothing left for us.

  We must move, Docem said. A teleportation beam cannot capture us if we are mobile.

  The trio raced from the control room and out of the ship, back into the cold mountain air.

  Just then, Garus felt his body lock up. His legs and arms could still move; however, he was stationary, feeling a tremendous weight on his chest.

  He knew what it was. Although invented by the Aris, Garus had developed his own version of a quantum anchor, an improved version.

  He looked around in the growing darkness, seeing his companions also held in place. Yet something was strange about these anchors. The frequency was wrong, more intense, feeling almost like multiple beams intersecting his body.

  What is this strange sensation? Garus asked Nunki, knowing that the unique brainwaves of each entity would open the connection.

  A recent discovery, Nunki answered. A combining of beams to open a—

  Quantum portal, Garus finished the thought.

  Precisely. I can only theorize what lies beyond the portal, but I do know that existence as you have known it is over. And since it will involve the quantum universe, I fear it will have no beginning and no end, not for you and the others. It appears your early musings regarding a permanent prison were prophetic—as if you could foretell the future. Farewell, Garus. You are immortal; enjoy your eternity.

  Garus’ eyesight was going grey, and not the result of the rapidly approaching night on Voskin’or. There was only a brief moment of total darkness before his vision began to clear. However, in that most fleeting of moments, he felt a deep dread, bordering on panic. But now, the sensation was passing. He felt more stable, more … real.

  As his vision came into focus, he found not the windswept greyness of the Silorus Highlands … but a wall of support beams and sheet metal only feet away. His awareness was still unclear, murky, and it took a moment for him to make out more detail. He was in a rectangular chamber filled with various crates and benches. A quick check found Docem and Panof beside him, each looking equally perplexed.