Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 2: The Apex Predator by T. R. Harris Page B
Authors: T. R. Harris
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only way off the planet; I know I would.”
“Better take your little friend along with you,” Sherri called after him, referring to his preferred Glock 21, while doing her best Scarface imitation.
“Never leave home without it,” he replied, and he didn’t mean his American Express card.
********
The atmosphere of Arcton was Human-acceptable, yet with all the soot and smoke in the air, Adam donned a respirator and a thick cotton jacket. He strapped the Glock .45 semiautomatic to his waist and then stepped out onto the surface. The respirator helped his breathing, yet his eyes were immediately accosted by the thick, oily smoke, causing them to burn and water profusely. He barely noticed when six of the Arcton natives surrounded him.
“You caused this – you and your kind!”
Adam whipped around just as one of the natives swung a thick wooden club at his head. He raised his right arm in time to deflect the blow and the club shattered when it hit. The strike stung, but he shrugged off the attack and stepped up to his attacker.
“ We didn’t do this, what makes you think we did?”
The other natives backed away after seeing how effortlessly Adam had survived the attack. His assailant dropped what remained of his club and turned to run. Adam reached out a hand and grabbed the tattered remains of the creature’s clothing. He pulled him back in front of him. “Calm down,” Adam said. “I’m not here to hurt you. Just tell me what happened?”
“You speak our language?”
Adam could tell that the words he was hearing came from the telepathy device and not traditional translation bugs. This was one of the added features of his imbedded device; he could communicate with any Prime on a subliminal level. He wasn’t surprised to find that these creatures hadn’t been supplied with translation devices; that would come later, once they were made members of the Solar Alliance. The Humans weren’t in the habit to passing several billion of the tiny devices to every race they encountered, at least not initially. The little buggers cost money!
“All I know is these meteorites and things began to fall about a cig-cycle ago,” the terrified alien replied. “Everything began to explode and burn.”
“How many days – rotations of your planet – is a cig-cycle,” Adam asked. It was important for him to determine how long ago the mystery fleet had passed near the system. He was pretty sure they weren’t Human, and if that were true, then that only left the bad guys and their fleet of twenty capital starships, heading in the direction of Earth.
The native frowned. “Rotations?” he questioned, but then his eyes grew wide. “You mean migrets! Five, it was five migrets – rotations.”
Adam had found that most planets with a certain mass and size tend to rotate at roughly the same speed, making days fairly uniform for Prime-supporting worlds. Planets that rotated too quickly had rapidly changing climate cycles which made it hard for life to evolve. And slowly rotating worlds had even more extreme variations between hot and cold. Only worlds with days averaging twenty-two to twenty-six hours appeared to support Prime – or Humanoid – life. And so far, only Prime life could build starships and move about the galaxy.
Now Adam had his answer: About five days ago a squadron comprised of approximately twenty capital ships of an unknown origin had bolted past this system, on full deep-wells and without regard to the damage they would cause. There were only a few alien species who possessed the technology necessary to build Class-4 or larger starships – and who also had the callous and heartless emotions to destroy entire star systems. Adam could think of three: the Klin, the Kracori … and even the Juireans. A squadron of warships from any one of these three would be a disaster in the making.
He pulled the alien a little closer. “Did any of the Humans survive – the aliens at the consulate who
“Better take your little friend along with you,” Sherri called after him, referring to his preferred Glock 21, while doing her best Scarface imitation.
“Never leave home without it,” he replied, and he didn’t mean his American Express card.
********
The atmosphere of Arcton was Human-acceptable, yet with all the soot and smoke in the air, Adam donned a respirator and a thick cotton jacket. He strapped the Glock .45 semiautomatic to his waist and then stepped out onto the surface. The respirator helped his breathing, yet his eyes were immediately accosted by the thick, oily smoke, causing them to burn and water profusely. He barely noticed when six of the Arcton natives surrounded him.
“You caused this – you and your kind!”
Adam whipped around just as one of the natives swung a thick wooden club at his head. He raised his right arm in time to deflect the blow and the club shattered when it hit. The strike stung, but he shrugged off the attack and stepped up to his attacker.
“ We didn’t do this, what makes you think we did?”
The other natives backed away after seeing how effortlessly Adam had survived the attack. His assailant dropped what remained of his club and turned to run. Adam reached out a hand and grabbed the tattered remains of the creature’s clothing. He pulled him back in front of him. “Calm down,” Adam said. “I’m not here to hurt you. Just tell me what happened?”
“You speak our language?”
Adam could tell that the words he was hearing came from the telepathy device and not traditional translation bugs. This was one of the added features of his imbedded device; he could communicate with any Prime on a subliminal level. He wasn’t surprised to find that these creatures hadn’t been supplied with translation devices; that would come later, once they were made members of the Solar Alliance. The Humans weren’t in the habit to passing several billion of the tiny devices to every race they encountered, at least not initially. The little buggers cost money!
“All I know is these meteorites and things began to fall about a cig-cycle ago,” the terrified alien replied. “Everything began to explode and burn.”
“How many days – rotations of your planet – is a cig-cycle,” Adam asked. It was important for him to determine how long ago the mystery fleet had passed near the system. He was pretty sure they weren’t Human, and if that were true, then that only left the bad guys and their fleet of twenty capital starships, heading in the direction of Earth.
The native frowned. “Rotations?” he questioned, but then his eyes grew wide. “You mean migrets! Five, it was five migrets – rotations.”
Adam had found that most planets with a certain mass and size tend to rotate at roughly the same speed, making days fairly uniform for Prime-supporting worlds. Planets that rotated too quickly had rapidly changing climate cycles which made it hard for life to evolve. And slowly rotating worlds had even more extreme variations between hot and cold. Only worlds with days averaging twenty-two to twenty-six hours appeared to support Prime – or Humanoid – life. And so far, only Prime life could build starships and move about the galaxy.
Now Adam had his answer: About five days ago a squadron comprised of approximately twenty capital ships of an unknown origin had bolted past this system, on full deep-wells and without regard to the damage they would cause. There were only a few alien species who possessed the technology necessary to build Class-4 or larger starships – and who also had the callous and heartless emotions to destroy entire star systems. Adam could think of three: the Klin, the Kracori … and even the Juireans. A squadron of warships from any one of these three would be a disaster in the making.
He pulled the alien a little closer. “Did any of the Humans survive – the aliens at the consulate who
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