from where they stood across the street, glass rained down upon them. Covering their heads with their arms, officials and bystanders alike were stunned by the explosion.
Ransin regained his awareness before the Castorian did, and he sprinted toward the building. Entering, he found a scene of utter devastation, as broken glass and broken bodies lay strewn in the hallway to the right of the lobby. There were moans from the injured and blood everywhere.
Ransin moved to the gaping opening where the airlock door had once stood and looked inside the room. It was empty and fairly intact, with most of the force from the explosion having been channeled into the hallway. A quick survey of the dead and injured found only Castorians. His assassins were not here.
Then he noticed a light coming from the other end of the hallway. This assignment just got a lot more interesting, the agent thought, as a sly smile grew from his lips…
Chapter Sixteen
Something smelled like shit — literally!
Riyad tried to move, but found there was something heavy lying on top of him, something soft and bulky — and smelling like shit.
He attempted to open his eyes, and only after considerable effort was able to break the crust that had accumulated around them. He remembered instantly the beating he’d taken, and figured the crust must be dried blood. Then suddenly every bone in body screamed out with pain.
The strange men had seemed to revel in the beating they were inflicting upon him, as more of them joined in the fray. It was a miracle he was still alive.
He could make out faint shapes in the dim light now, and as his eyes cleared, the shapes began to take form. On top of him was something v-shaped, made up of appendages, thick and — they were legs! There was a body lying on him, with its crotch buried in his face. And the body had soiled itself.
Ignoring his pain, Riyad pushed with all his might and shoved the body off of him. Then he sat up. He was in a dimly-lit room, at the edge of a pile of corpses, smelling of feces, vomit and decay. He pulled himself from under the bodies covering his legs and stood up as best he could.
His ribs burned, his head throbbed and his legs were shaky. He fell against a metal wall and tried to take several deep breaths, but the stench in the room was too much for him to bear. He vomited.
He had to get out of the room…and quickly.
There was doorway not too far to his left, and as he crawled along the wall toward it, he swore that if the door was locked, he’d beat it down with his bare hands. But it was unlocked, and once through, he slammed it shut and slipped to the floor, his back pressing against the door. The air in the corridor was stale and warm, but at least it didn’t smell of death.
He knew the room he’d just left was filled with the corpses of his fellow Humans. He’d seen a lot of dead people in his day, and he knew the smell of death. They were all dead, and appeared to have been so for several hours, if not days.
Once his head had cleared, Riyad struggled to his feet and cautiously began to move up the corridor to his left. He had no idea what part of the Juirean flagship he was on, but reasoned it had to be some aft cargo bay just so the stink wouldn’t permeate the rest of the ship. Refrigerating the bodies would have helped, but if they had, then he would never have awakened from his unconsciousness.
All was quiet, and it wasn’t long before he came to end of the corridor, and a closed door. In his beaten condition, he knew he wasn’t the force he was accustomed to being, but he would just have to do his best. What he needed was a weapon, so he pressed the release button on the wall to the right and surged into the room.
It was a small command bridge, and it was unoccupied.
A wave of relief spread through him. So he wasn’t on the flagship anymore. In fact, this was a small shuttle, and from the ring of stars he could see through the viewport, it was in a well.
He sat down in the pilot seat — much to the relief of this aching body — and scanned the controls; just standard issue. He punched up the flight information and set the data to be relayed audibly.
After a minute he reclined further back in the chair and smiled. So this was an unmanned shuttle, taking the Human bodies back to Melfora Lum for autopsy. The crazy bastards had committed suicide — all except for one. And his body had been thrown in with the rest.
Riyad’s grin grew wider, as he began to believe that maybe there was a God after all, even way out here, and that Allah must be looking after him. He was alive — barely — and now he had a ship.
A plan gelled instantly in his mind: His pirate organization was in shambles, so he couldn’t go back to that. But he could take the ship he was on to Silea, recover the five million credits that he had stashed there over the years, and then lie low for awhile. The credits could buy him another ship on the black-market, as well as a new identity.
Then he would continue to follow his leads, and without the responsibilities of running a pirate organization.
During the past few days, Riyad had managed to collect a fair amount of intelligence, not the least of which was the fact that there was a thriving Human community in The Fringe. In addition, he didn’t believe half of what that lunatic Kyle Ross had told the Juirean. He knew his race and his planet, and there was no way that Earth was preparing for an imminent battle with the Juireans. It had to be ruse, a deflection from the truth, and from the real Klin base. It’s what he would have done.
It was a simple task to reprogram the nav computer for Silea instead of Melfora Lum, and once that was done, Riyad searched the ship for weapons, food and accommodations. The trip to Silea would take seven days, just enough time for him heal and get some of his strength back. He cranked the ship’s internal gravity up to a reasonable level and wolfed down some mush for energy. Then he jettisoned the rotting bodies in the cargo bay. The trip would be long, and he certainly didn’t want them stinking up the place.
Aboard the UN-444, Interim-Overlord Giodol stepped into stride next to Lord Yan’wal as the Senior Overlord made his way to one of the myriad of meetings that made up the majority of his day. “The Human has set a course for Silea. Your plan appears to be working.”
“Good. That creature is our best link to whatever conspiracy is underway. Be sure that our agents do not lose him on Silea.”
“Yes, My Lord. And there is more.”
Yan’wal did not stop, but cocked his head toward the junior Overlord.
“Our agent on Castor placed a tracker on Counselor Deslor’s shuttle. It left the planet about nine hours ago, and appears to be heading for Silea as well.”
Yan’wal nodded. “So both of the Humans who were aboard the mystery ship are heading for Silea? This must be more than a coincidence. I have ordered another forty ships to the Sector to replace the ones lost off Dimloe. Send ten of our current ships to the area near Silea and have them wait there in the event they are needed. I do not believe we have seen the last of these Humans. And I will need more confirmation before I believe the Klin have had very little to do with this situation.”
“Yes, My Lord. And by the way, I have tracked down the two beings who originally brought the Klin ship in for salvage. There is evidence that they had the ship’s computer core for a period of time before Lord Oplim obtained it.”
“Were they able to access any of the data?”
“We cannot be sure. We do know that our technicians on Melfora Lum could not. Our techs transported the core to the Klin ship, just before it exploded.”
“What are your plans for these beings?”
“I have sent a ship to intercept them with instructions to bring them to Silea. Possibly having them meet with the original Humans again might reveal more information.”
“That sounds reasonable. I approve.”
Then the Senior Overlord stopped and looked directly at Giodol. “And once our new forces arrive, Lord Giodol, I want this Sector locked down. We have underestimated the threat from these Humans for the last time. Once the two Humans meet up on Silea, along with the salvagers, I want them covered. They will lead us to their cohorts.
