Space Chronicles: The Last Human War Read Free

carried to him, but, to his relief, none from Tanarac pursuers. Exhausted, he wiggled a little further under concealment of the huge fern while his breathing recovered.
    For the first time in his life, Simon was free. It was, at once, exhilarating and frightening. Most importantly, he knew it was right.
    “What now, buddy?” he talked aloud. “What happened to runners before me? Did they find food? What about water? Did they just wander around until they died? And, what about hicays? Hicays!”
    B udding confidence shattered as those beasts wracked his thoughts.
    I should go back to the quarry , but . . . but I can’t. Taskers will control me, again. Freedom or captivity? Hicays or safety?
    “No matter wh at decision I make, it’s wrong,” he said as he rested.
    Tree-dweller sounds from the jungle canopy above brought him a welcomed distraction. A strange, musty smell made him rub his nose and contrasted with the sweet aromas of summer flowers. The jungle was so alive, so unlike the sterile world of his worker quarters in the quarry. He closed his eyes to bask in the intensity of the jungle.
    “Help!”
    Simon awoke with a start. “Kelly?”
    “Help!” Her voice rang out again, but he did not hear it. He sensed her voice deep within his mind, yet it was as strong as if she were standing right next to him. She was fighting for her life.
    He reacted without hesitation, retracing his path through the jungle. A trail of crushed ferns and bent twigs was easy to follow. When he arrived at the tall hoxta grass next to the quarry, he crouched low, carefully hiding behind a large border fern. He parted its leaves.
    Kelly was on her knees a short distance away, tugging with all her might at a bright orange stun cord wrapped around her throat. It would gradually tighten until she passed out, and she would be carried to a mind-reprogramming station. This could only mean one thing.
    She tried to follow me!
    The Tasker stood over the struggling woman, confident his weapon would to do its delicate task of choking her to unconsciousness.
    Simon burst from the jungle.
    The light blue alien, smug in his certainty of mastery over humans, ordered the human to halt. Tanarac indoctrination worked for an instant. Simon hesitated, but he quickly cast aside the behavioral conditioning and surged at his former master, driving a bone-splitting punch into a surprisingly frail midsection. The shocked Tasker folded in half, before slowly dropping to his knees, no longer in undisputed control.
    Simon leaned over the crumpled supervisor with his fist poised to deliver another blow, but the injured Tanarac collapsed onto his back, gasping for air.
    “Relea se her!” he shouted into the pale blue face.
    The alien made no outward movement, but his eyes widened. Simon wondered if he was seeing emotion in a Tanarac for the first time.
    The Tasker’s eyes rolled up in their sockets , and his body went slack. Mind-controlled stun cords lost function if the telepathic link to the owner was severed. Simon turned, expecting to see his friend free of the weapon.
    What the . . .?
    The orange stun cord now lay in a limp curl on the ground where, only moments before, she had been fighting for freedom. His lifetime team member was nowhere in sight.
    He ran to the stripper plow, hoping she had retreated to its safety. The new Loadmaster cowered by the machine, terrified by violence he just witnessed, but there was no sign of Kelly. He recalled her pleas that morning and frowned.
    Is this a trap? Is she trying to lure me back?
    A dozen Taskers approached Striker Twelve at a dead run, each twirling a radiant stun cord above his head.
    Simon ran back into the safety of the nearby jungle, only this time, he controlled his pace, resolved to cover far greater distance than he had the first time. The strong young man pushed on for hours, straining until burning calf muscles demanded more oxygen than his lungs could supply. Only then, did he seek concealment under