Empires: A Classic Space Opera Adventure (The Adam Cain Chronicles Book 2) Page 2

  Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

  1

  He would kill an alien today, in fact, more than one.

  For most people, this would have been extraordinary, even disturbing. But for Adam Cain, it was just another manic Monday…

  Although Adam Cain didn’t set out to kill the aliens, it was becoming more of a habit than an exception. He blamed the region’s new-found prosperity for the increase in the figurative notches on his pistol grip.

  The past year had been good for the businesses run by the Big Three Partnership, including Capt. Cain’s Bar & Grill. Riyad’s outfitting business was also doing better, while Sherri’s hotel/brothel/opium den was always full of paying customers. Recently, there’d been an influx of business activity in the coastal town of Balamar. The huge galactic organization Maris-Kliss—makers of the ubiquitous line of MK flash weapons—had moved onto Liave-3, with several projects already underway. A mile down Lan Road from Adam’s bar, they were building a luxurious resort hotel on the picturesque crescent bay. Although the complex wasn’t completed, the hundreds of workers spent a fair amount of time at Cain’s, drinking his liquor and eating from the varied menu. Most of the workers lived in the nearby city of Kanac and were shuttled to and from the worksite. The shuttle now made frequent stops in front of the bar, knowing that some of the workers would make their way to Cain’s after a hard day’s work before heading back to the urban sprawl of the much-larger city.

  In addition to the resort, MK built a huge warehouse at the Kanac Spaceport, where they stored gigantic tanks of decontamination foam. The organization was gearing up for an attempt to cleanse the radiation from entire planets in the Dead Zone in one fell swoop. It was an ambitious project, but trial efforts proved it was possible. Now dozens of refugee groups were streaming back to the Zone, fearing that MK would attempt to claim their former homeworlds for their own once the decontamination was complete. Knowing MK as he did, Adam had no doubt that was their intention. They hadn’t become the largest business entity in the galaxy by being magnanimous.

  MK was also one of the chief investors in an expanded roadway between Kanac and Balamar, complete with a long tunnel that ran under the dinosaur migratory trail. When complete, the road would cut the transit time from Kanac to the coast to around ten minutes, aided by the rapid growth of the lawless boomtown toward the more peaceful shoreline community. Soon, the two settlements would link up, and the filth, overcrowding and crime of Kanac would infest beautiful Balamar, even more than it already had.

  And that was why it was a good bet Adam would kill an alien or two today, during his walk to the nearby bank to make a deposit of his business receipts.

  The bank was part of the Expansion Accounting System and consisted of a small building with a secure metal vault buried deep into the bedrock. Juirean credits were fed into a system of conveyors and stored where no living being had access to them. For withdrawals, a clerk would punch in an amount and the credit chips would be automatically pulled from the vault and transferred to the surface. All transactions were immediately logged into the Expansion system, keeping them safe from theft.

  The security at the bank was why most crooks chose to attack the bank patrons outside the structure, rather than rob the bank itself. It was such a common occurrence that Adam made the short walk with a resigned attitude, knowing someone would make a move. Unfortunately for the attackers, Adam Cain was not the alien you wanted to rob.

  A few days before, Adam had a new six-round, long-barrel, .45-caliber revolver shipped in from Earth, which he now wore holstered around his waist and tied to his right thigh. Sure, it was a little old-fashioned, even by Earth standards, being neither a semi-automatic magazine-fed handgun nor an energy weapon such as ninety-nine percent of all alien species used. But he liked the retro feel of the weapon, as well as the intimidating sound it produced. The incredible bang associated with the weapon would be enough to wake up the town and announce to all within earshot that the Humans were not to be messed with. The locals knew this already; it was the riff-raft filtering in from Kanac that had to constantly be taught the lesson.

  Adam always made his walk during daylight, which had turned into a spectator event. The workers and regulars at the three restaurants he passed along the way nodded at him, nervous grins on their faces. They didn’t relish the violence and death that was invading their once-tranquil town, but there was little they could do about it. Perhaps from Adam’s frequent deadly demonstrations word would get out about the perils of engaging in such deviant—and pointless--behavior, making their own trips to the bank less of a challenge.

  So, Adam Cain wasn’t surprised when a pair of stocky, yellow-skinned beings appeared from the foliage along the side of the road, blocking his path to the bank fifty yards away. They wore standard MK-17s around their waists, and their clothing was dirty and tattered. Adam felt a presence behind him and turned slightly to notice a third would-be assailant approaching from behind. This was ambitious; three against one. They must know Adam carried a fair amount of credits with him to the bank. With the increase in business at Cain’s, he had over two thousand credits on him, which would be a fortune to these three. He stopped, his body turned sideways so he could keep watch front and back.

  “You sure you want to do this?” he asked the pair blocking his path.

  “Give us the credits, and you will not be hurt,” said one of the aliens. His hand was on the butt of his weapon. He began to pull it from the holster.

  “I can’t do that, so, why don’t you just move on. I’ve already killed my quota of assholes for the week.”

  The aliens frowned, losing meaning in the translation.

  “Give us the credits,” the alien repeated.

  Adam looked to his right. The alien behind him was drawing his weapon.

  It was nearing lunchtime, and Adam was hungry. Reasoning that diplomacy with the robbers wasn’t going to work, he let out a deep sigh … and went for his gun.

  The three aliens already had their weapons out of their holsters, bringing them level and engaging the targeting computers. Adam’s .45 was out of its holster in the blink of an eye later. He aimed it at the alien to the rear and pulled the trigger. The report was deafening, and the heavy slug tore into the tender flesh of the alien, throwing him back ten feet in the light gravity of Liave-3. Then before the targeting computers on the other two MKs could lock on, Adam had the long-barrel pistol shooting flame and angry sound at the other assailants.

  The aliens were blasted away with a pair of accurate, near-simultaneous gunshots, each center mass. As the last breath drained from the robbers, Adam took a few steps closer to the bodies, the barrel of the .45 aimed at the bloody corpses. There was no doubt they were dead. Soft alien flesh was no match for Human ballistic rounds, especially not from a .45. With the revolver, there was no burning of flesh or electric discharge as with energy weapons. Instead, rapidly expanding pools of blood filled the gaping holes left in the chests of his attackers.

  With his daily chore complete, Adam did a quick twirl of his new gun using the trigger guard and his index finger, Old West style. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite pull it off. The barrel of the .45 ended upside down and pointed back at him, leaving him awkwardly fumbling with the weapon. He corrected the grip and placed the gun back in the holster, embarrassed, knowing people were watching. He grimaced; he would have to practice the move when he returned to the bar.

  Adam stepped over one of the bodies and continued to the bank, knowing there would be no police coming to investigate, nor coroner to remove the bodies. Vagrants would strip the dead of their clothing and valuables, and overnight, various rodents and small dinosaurs would drag the bodies into the nearby jungle to feed upon. There was no law on Liave-3, only the law of the jungle. And in this jungle, there was no creature more dangerous than a Human late for lunch.

  2

  When Adam returned from his deposit run, he found Riyad Tarazi and Sherri Valentine at the long, p
olished bar at Cain’s, chatting with their two alien friends, Kaylor and Jym.

  “I take it those were your fireworks we heard?” Riyad asked. There was a real bread and meat sandwich sitting in front of him, something unique to Cain’s, and not spit out of a food processor.

  “So, how many does that make?” Sherri asked as she took a bite of her own sandwich. Jym set a plate in front of Adam as he slid onto a barstool.

  “This week, or in total?”

  Sherri smirked. “Never mind,” she mumbled with her mouth full of food. “Overall, it has to be in the millions by now.”

  Adam nodded. “Sure, when you count the planets we’ve destroyed along the way. Remember Nuor?”

  “That would make it billions,” Riyad said. He shrugged. “It’s a good start.”

  “Hey, we’ve never killed an alien who didn’t deserve it … sorta.”

  “Let’s not even go there,” Sherri said. “So, how do you like your six-shooter, Wyatt?”

  “It’s great,” Adam grinned. “It was pretty loud, wasn’t it? Even for me—”

  Adam and the other Humans at the bar noticed as a cloud came over Kaylor’s light-blue face. They turned in their seats, following the alien’s gaze toward the front door to the bar.

  A flamboyantly dressed alien with silver-white hair had just entered. He came unescorted and with a mischievous grin on his dark face.

  Adam took a quick bite of his sandwich before leaving the bar to greet the visitor. He didn’t want to face Dal Divisen on an empty stomach, although a single bite wouldn’t do much.

  “My friend, Adam Cain, it has been too long,” said the alien.

  “Not long enough, if you ask me.”

  Dal was the founder of the city of Kanac and the top gangster on Liave-3. He and Adam had had their share of run-ins over the two years the Humans had been on the planet, and anytime he showed up at Adam’s door, trouble soon followed.

  “May we sit? I have some news to impart.”

  Adam shrugged. Dal had a lot of clout on the planet. He also controlled the fuel module franchise on L-3, making it necessary to deal with him to keep Riyad’s small fleet of salvage rentals moving through the Dead Zone. Adam waved at a table and chair and they sat down.

  “Make it quick; I’m in the middle of lunch.”

  Dal looked past Adam to his friends at the bar, who were watching the alien with contempt painted on their faces. He waved them a greeting. None returned the gesture.

  Dal turned his attention to Adam, his expression serious. “I am sure you are aware of the recent incident between the Expansion and the Union within the Annadin system.”

  “Of course, who hasn’t?”

  “Indeed. It has set tensions on high throughout the entire Zone. As has been evident for the past few years, there is potential for a serious flare-up of hostilities between the major powers in the galaxy, and all focused on defenseless Liave-3.”

  As the most settled and civilized of the remaining few non-radioactive worlds in the Dead Zone, L-3 was the de facto capital of the region. The fact that it had no government or system of laws also made it extremely vulnerable to outside forces.

  “I have come to tell you that investigators and negotiators from both sides are coming to our planet to work on a resolution to the hostilities. They will arrive in ten days.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Adam said. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because they have chosen Capt. Cain’s as the location for these negotiations.”

  Adam recoiled. “Bullshit. No one has said anything to me.”

  “I am now.”

  “No, seriously, no one checked with me first. You can’t just assume I’d say yes. Besides, we’re too small, and security here is crap. No way, it would interfere with my business. We’re just getting back on our feet after the last fiasco you pulled with the superweapons.”

  “But the parties insist. They want Cain’s.”

  Adam shook his head. “Why not use one of your places? You have a lot more to choose from, and most are bigger.”

  “I offered, my friend,” said Dal. “However, they insist on coming to the coast. Kanac is not where they wish to spend their time.”

  “Sorry, but they’re just going to have to deal with it. They can’t do it here.”

  “They are willing to pay: ten thousand Juirean credits per day, in addition to food and drink. However, you will have to devote the entire facility to the event.”

  Adam was again shaking his head. “Even that isn’t enough.”

  “For six days?” Dal asked.

  Adam’s head stopped shaking, and his bottom jaw fell open slightly.

  “The conference is expected to take five days, maybe more, and with one day prior to set up the security measures. Trust me, Adam, I tried to get them to hold the event at one of my venues, but to no avail. And in the future, the MK resort will surely serve the purpose; however, for now, they want Cain’s.”

  “Why? The talks are between the Humans and the Juireans. They have to know this place is run by Humans. Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?”

  “One would think so,” Dal agreed. “Yet, it seems the lead negotiator for the Expansion is someone you know, a Juirean and a friend.”

  “Who is it?” Adam only had one Juirean friend, that being Tidus Fe Nolan, the bounty hunter, and he doubted he would be heading a delegation of Juireans to Liave-3. The former Overlord was an outcast to his people for leaving the Authority.

  “It is Councilmember Quanin Fe Doren”

  Adam was taken aback. He searched his memory for the name but couldn’t come up with a match.

  “I have no idea who he is.”

  “It matters not; he has heard of you.”

  Adam snorted and leaned back in his chair. “All Juireans have heard of me. And none could be considered friends—with one exception. Most of them want to see my head on a platter.”

  Dal frowned at the reference. He shrugged. “Even so, Quanin is not among them. He was quite pleased to hear you were on L-3, and he agreed outright to hold the conference here. Of course, the Human delegation did as well. The negotiators will be staying in their ships at the spaceport or in orbit during their stay and will commute daily to the conference. It will be an important affair, and even though I will not be hosting, they did come to me to make the arrangements. This can go far in adding credibility to the planet. As you are aware, we are sitting on the knife’s edge. I implore you to agree.”

  Adam grimaced. He hated being made an offer he couldn’t refuse; they never turned out as expected. However, ten thousand credits per day for six days—maybe more—was a lot of money. And they’d pay for food and drink, as well, meaning no open bar. And he would insist on his normal mark-up for food and beverages.

  He looked over at the bar, where his friends and business associates were watching, unable to hear the conversation. They would insist that he accept. The bar would only be closed to the public for less than a week, and they could make a small fortune in the meantime. And these were peace talks, which were of vital importance to Liave-3 and the businesses they’d established here.

  It was truly an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  A grimace etched his face. All he had to do now was worry about the unforeseen shitstorm that was about to happen. He wasn't cynical; it’s just that these things always turned out that way, at least in his experience.

  3

  Adam Cain stood leaning against the wooden frame of the portal at the rear of Capt. Cain’s Bar & Grill, staring out in the gloaming. Tiny waves lapped against the crescent-shaped beach, and lights from the peninsula that formed the northern boundary of the bay were just now flickering on. The near-constant sea breeze brought relief from the slightly higher-than-normal daytime temperatures, and most of the tables set out on the white sand were occupied by a menagerie of aliens enjoying the evening meal and the first of a long line of beverages Adam and his employees were glad to provide.

&n
bsp; All in all, it was a beautiful, relaxing scene, perfect in every way—except for all the aliens around and the fact that he was on another world three thousand light-years from Earth. He thought back to his time in the Navy, and the myriad of exotic locales he visited on his homeworld, all on the water’s edge and mainly in the tropics. He enjoyed the humidity, both here and on Earth. That was why he chose Liave-3 as his new home when he and the others had once again banned from returning to their homeworld. That would eventually change; it always did—and he would return home, maybe to the South Pacific, to run Capt. Cain’s #2. Or perhaps he would settle in the Sierra Nevada mountains, around his second home of Lake Tahoe. Who knew? But the thought was always at the back of his mind, dreaming of a time when he could leave the galaxy behind—along with all these stinking aliens…

  And that’s when he heard it, a faint, distant memory off to his right. He concentrated, attempting to cut through the din of the chattering aliens nearby and the constant slapping of the small waves on the shore.

  What is that? he asked himself. Credence?

  The music was distinctive, as were the vocals. But how could it be? Who would be playing Lodi by Credence Clearwater Rival on Liave-3? He set off across the sand, attempting to locate the source of the enigmatic sound.

  As he passed along the back of his bar and across the alleyway between his building and Sherri’s Golden Slipper Hotel, the music remained constant, neither growing louder nor fainter. That was truly odd, making him wonder if he was imagining it. But, no, it was still there.

  “The man from the magazine said I was on my way. But somewhere I lost connection; I ran out of songs to play.”

  He moved behind the hotel. Two of the suites had patios that extended onto the beach, with sliding doors to the interior. Curtains were drawn, but the lights were on. Strange, guttural sounds were heard from within. Adam tried not to imagine what was taking place inside the rooms; alien sex and other indulgences conjured up disturbing visions.