Son of Justice (10 page)

After their allotted seven days, the human research and development team thanked their human test subjects and left. They took with them a list of tweaks to be made and improvements to incorporate into the next version of the armor. They also accepted suggestions from the soldiers, and Eli submitted a few recommendations. Needless to say, long-term comfort while not in motion was at the top of everyone’s “must have” list.

Less than six weeks remained in the training cycle. Eli knew they’d be deployed with the current armor at the end of that time, or it would be shelved pending arrival of an improved version. He hoped for the former. Even with the flaw, the suits provided a significant advantage for troops deployed to a hostile environment like Telgora.

* * *

The Zrthn race flourished for millennium beneath the warm, oily seas that covered 80 percent of their home world. As the unchallenged pinnacle of the underwater food chain, the sentient species hunted, thrived, and grew. They reached out tentacles to new and unexplored territories as their population exploded, and each new discovery brought migration and further growth. As their population grew, so did their knowledge. Science, architecture, and engineering evolved and helped foster and support their ongoing expansion. Eventually, their domination covered every corner of their underwater world.

As domination over their portion of the world grew, so did their appetite for food, resources, and areas to explore and conquer. Like many races, they lived for the present, often at the expense of the long-term well-being of their kind. As a collective unit, they recognized and understood the growing danger of their excesses. Their scientists and leaders railed about the need to change their hunting behavior, to adapt to the diminishing pools of prey and resources. But as individuals, none were willing to curb their own desires or limit their own excesses. As a result, their hunting and their expansion continued unabated. Food was available
now
, which meant it would be available tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after.

And it was.

Until—suddenly—it wasn’t.

The ancient Zrthns nearly went extinct as a result.

It was the need for food that first drove them from the waves onto the dry, arid land that existed above. At first, they could only live for a short period out of the water, but it was enough time to hunt for food. When the food near the water’s shores disappeared, they reached out tentacles farther inland, and the process of growth repeated itself. This expansion was aided by evolution, and in time, the Zrthn eventually left their barren, watery existence behind for good.

Eventually, the ever-present hunger for expansion required the race to turn their attention to the stars, because space was the only truly boundless expanse that could meet their need to hunt, consume, and grow. Their initial forays beyond their home planet revealed other worlds, worlds with great reserves of resources that were important for continued growth. Finding food was no longer a need, but that didn’t lessen their appetite for excess, which drove them forward and outward.

As they encountered other species, they quickly realized they weren’t the strongest, quickest, or most intelligent race. They were adaptable, though, which led them to develop methods for gaining what they needed with the least amount of effort. Somewhere along their journeys, they learned the principles of the barter system and quickly discovered the benefits of growth through nonviolent means. Within a generation, they established a culture centered on achievement of goals through trade, contracts, and negotiations. They still used force and violence when needed, but it became a secondary tactic, something to fall back on when the ideals of commerce failed.

It is common knowledge among sentient races that successful trade relies on the principles of supply and demand. Resources, goods, and services that are in high demand, yet are limited in supply, fetch the greatest prices. Controlling high demand items provides leverage in negotiations and can often be used to influence agreements or dictate favorable contractual terms.

For space-faring races, one thing is cherished above all others: agsel. The ore makes faster than light space travel possible.

“How did this race ever defeat us, Brek?”

Sergeant Twigg received only a bored grunt for a reply. Hadn’t expected much more. The view outside the watch tower showed the same flat, sand and rock-covered terrain that they had been staring at for years. The inside of the tower was stark, with two desks and the monitoring equipment that would provide updates on the humans they were tasked with watching over. Neither of them really cared to monitor the pale beings, though. There was no need really. They had never been surprised by anything the sheep ever did on this particular exercise.

Cycle after cycle of training the human sheep had sapped their energy. Each day was a repeat of the drudgery, monotony, and boredom that had become their companions. They were Minith. They were born to fight, conquer, and subjugate lesser races. Yet, here they sat. Babysitters, relegated to a foreign world, without the possibility of a battle or the satisfaction of victory. Twigg recalled what life had been like before the home world had been destroyed and their mighty race conquered by such weak specimens as humans. They had once ruled the worlds that now belonged to the so-called “Shiale Alliance.” His spirit longed for a return to those days. What little satisfaction he now received came on days like this. And little satisfaction it was.

“Which group is up next?” Twigg asked Brek.

It was the other sergeant’s responsibility to track the recruits on the vid screen and report on their positions. Although they couldn’t see the humans in the distance, electronic monitoring of their location was accomplished via a pacer device, and projected onto a holo-screen that sat atop the desk where Brek sat. As Twigg watched, Brek straightened in his chair to view the data. A sudden spark of life flashed in the other sergeant’s eyes, and before the words left his snout, Twigg knew which group was preparing to initiate the training exercise.

Jayson
.

“The young human who nearly bested you in the ring is in this grouping,” Brek confirmed.

The twitch of ear that accompanied the remark informed Twigg that his fellow warrior was having fun at his expense. He growled menacingly in reply, which caused the other’s ears to twitch even faster. The heat rising in his chest nearly caused him to jump the table where Brek sat and beat the twitch from those ears, but he pushed back against the rage and angrily swallowed the desire.

“Careful, Brek,” he cautioned. “Your humor won’t last longer than the reach of my boot.”

“Perhaps,” Brek responded. “But I have boots as well.”

The two Minith giants stared at each other for several seconds, each waiting to see if the other’s words were more than an idle threat. After years of jostling for position and supremacy, they had never really tangled to determine who the true alpha was. But each knew it was simply a matter of time.

With a final growl, Twigg turned away and looked out the viewing window of the watch tower, his gaze fixed on the landscape ahead. It was a barren land. Sun-bleached sand and rock covered every inch of the rolling, hilly terrain. If he stared east or west, he could pretend the entire planet was covered by similar land. A casual look to the north or south, however, and the differences became quickly apparent. To the south lay the ever-present sun. If you moved far enough in that direction, you would eventually find yourself walking across lakes of baked sand, flat and smooth as glass, or skirting a pool of melted rock and agsel. To the north, it was the opposite. The lack of sun in that direction turned the landscape into a frozen wasteland of ice. Either direction carried death to those that ventured too far from the equator.

He could not see his human charges in the distance. The five kilometers that separated them was simply too far. But he knew they’d arrive soon enough. The exercise they were conducting guaranteed it. Sometimes they arrived in formation, sometimes at a run, other times creeping slowly from rock-to-rock. Regardless of how they approached, though, he and his warriors always saw them. Saw them, and “killed” them. The killing was electronic in nature. Twigg, Brek, and the dozen Minith soldiers arranged in a semicircle at the foot of the tower were outfitted with pulse weapons that were
mostly
harmless. The electronic pulses incapacitated targets with nonlethal—albeit excruciatingly painful—jolts of electricity that temporarily stunned and paralyzed.

No human had ever made it within half a kilometer of the tower. They weren’t meant to make it. This was a test of their mental make-up, a way to assess how the humans acted when faced with an unwinnable scenario. The pacer monitored the planning processes used and assessed each recruit’s actions as a way to determine their motivations and understand their tendencies. Would they be aggressive? Tentative? Cautious or careless? Would they sacrifice people to help accomplish their mission, or would they try to ensure everyone’s safety? There was no pass-fail criterion. It was more of a mental measurement exercise, with the results entered into their records as a way to help their future superiors predict future performance.

“Any movement, Brek?”

“Nothing yet. They are still at the demarcation point.”

This was the fourth grouping today, and Twigg had been pleased to learn that the humans’ new fighting armor actually helped monitor their location. In addition to the feedback being sent from the pacer, the suits’ built-in mapping systems were actively pinging their positions to Brek’s screen. They would know when Jayson and his team moved out and be able to track their movements. The new armor made a simple task even easier.

Twigg smiled at the thought of hitting Jayson with multiple pulses. The human had become an outlet for the anger, contempt, and frustration he felt for humans. The pale, puny Earthling deserved whatever punishment he could mete out. He wondered how many electronic jolts he could realistically deliver without raising unwanted attention, finally deciding four or five would be reasonable.

He fingered his weapon and felt his ears quiver with anticipation. It was just a matter of time.

* * *

He was known among the Family as Alone.

It wasn’t his name—he had never been granted a true name by his kind. It was simply a classification, a statement—a truth not worthy of further consideration. It was the way in which his people acknowledged his existence, while simultaneously noting his lack of presence.

He was
from
the Family. But he was not
of
the Family.

His mother and father were of the Family. His siblings were of the Family. His birth mirrored those that came before him, and those that came after. His outward appearance was unremarkable as far as his kind went. He was strong, fast, and as physically capable as any other.

In all aspects except the most important one, he was like any other Telgoran. He was incapable of sharing the mass mind that connected his people into a single, cohesive entity—the Family. His consciousness resided outside the familial circle. The thoughts in his head were his own, not those of the Family. He did not link with the others, did not know what they thought or why. He had never held
shiale
.

Although he was pitied—looked upon as something less by the Family—he was rarely uncomfortable in his solitude. It was all he had ever known. Joining together in mass thought was as foreign a concept to him as . . . flying. You cannot regret the loss of something you never had. Instead, he reveled in the ownership of something that only he possessed. Individuality and self-direction.

Titan, the human emissary that spent his existence with the Family, had once shared an Earth-word for how he existed: freedom. Since that day, the man had taken to calling him “Free” whenever he encountered him in the tunnels and caverns. The Telgoran hungrily latched onto the name. Claimed it for himself.

Among the Family, he was Alone. But to himself, he was Free.

Free lay inside the mouth of the cave and looked down the slope at the humans below. Over the past few years, he had spent hundreds of hours quietly observing the strange behavior of the Earthlings as they trained to become soldiers.

The dozen small, pale humans were arranged in a loose line, sheltered behind large boulders that were obviously meant to hide their location from some unseen “enemy” in the distance. He looked out across the sun-scorched terrain to see if he could detect their opponents, but as usual, he saw nothing moving in the distance. He had seen this scenario play out numerous times over the years: the humans were dropped here, waited for an hour or so, then moved out toward some distant target or foe. Two hours later, another group would take their place. Two hours after that, yet another group would assemble. This often went on for two or three days, as different groups took their turn assaulting whatever lay in the distance. He had never followed any of the soldiers to determine their destination, or learn what waited for them in the distance. He had been instructed by the Family not to engage the human soldiers or—Family forbid—the Minith warriors who sometimes accompanied them.

Like all of his people, he neither trusted nor liked the Minith who still occupied Telgora. At the urging of the general—the great human warrior who had released their world from the Minith years earlier—they had reached
shiale
on an alliance, but it was a tenuous arrangement where the Minith were concerned. The Family allowed their continued presence on Telgora but only in limited numbers, and only because the evil aliens had been conquered through the combined efforts of Telgoran and human forces.

It took a moment for Free to notice, but the soldiers below were outfitted in a manner that he had never seen before. They were still short, stocky creatures, but their clothing seemed . . . different, bulkier and more rigid than usual.

He crawled closer to the cave opening for a better view.

* * *