Alien Days Anthology

by P P Corcoran

  It occurred to him how accustomed he’d grown to seeing Guests mingling in such settings: Noctu in tuxedos styled to accommodate their arm-wings, curvy Nolphid women in expensive gowns that paled in comparison to the lustrous sheen of their own pearlescent skins. And, most alien of all, the bipedal, four-armed insectoid Anterix; their red and black exoskeletons “painted” to simulate modern fashion. There were others, he knew. But these three species made up the bulk of the Guests who had come down in the southern United States when their titanic colony ship had broken up in the atmosphere six years ago.

  “Like 1929 didn’t give us enough hungry mouths to feed...” He mumbled while pocketing the stub for his fedora as he made his way to the bar. “The stock-market tanks and then hell’s rejects fall from the skies.”

  “Billy Resnick!” Marquez, the Creole bartender exclaimed. “I ain’t seen you in a coon’s age, brother. How ya been?”

  “Fair to middling, my friend.” Resnick leaned against the marble-topped bar and scanned the crowded main room. He spotted three city councilmen, two judges, and a senator among the night’s patrons. “Looks like business is booming even with legal hooch.”

  “That’s a fact,” Marquez agreed. “Miss Lilly’s got a head for business on those curvy shoulders for sure. You’re usual still Glenmorangie?”

  Resnick nodded, speechless as he caught sight of the lovely owner and songstress gracefully taking the stage. The lights went down. A gentle murmur, then silence replaced the boisterous carousing. All eyes turned on the beautiful mulatto in the red dress. The spotlight bathed her in shimmering silver light. Her opening notes were acapella, soft and husky yet powerful, reaching out and drawing her audience into the deep pools of her sparkling green eyes. The jazz band joined in, completing the audient delicacy.

  Resnick took a sip of Scotch to break the spell before whispering to Marquez, “You had any trouble in this neighborhood? With the Guests? Any bat-boys?”

  Marquez shook his head, eyes dropping away. “No, Billy. Nothing like that. Everybody here goes along and gets along, ya know?”

  Yes, he knew. That was the party line these days, handed down from Washington, London, Paris, Berlin, Moscow, and every other damn capital on the planet. “Welcome our new neighbors. Make them feel at home, and we’ll all get along just fine.” Of course, the fantastic technology the Guests brought with them, even if most of it was scrapped during the crash, was the carrot dangled in front of these world powers. Resnick shuddered to think of Guest technology being used in another war. Things had been bad enough in the Argonne Forest without hoverships, particle bombs, and ray guns.

  Marquez asked in a low, conspiratorial tone. “Why you ask, Billy? You on a case or something?”

  Resnick shrugged. “Maybe. Just keep your eyes peeled and drop a dime if you see or hear anything about a character name o’ M’Koth. Might be worth a couple bills to you.”

  Marquez nodded, but his dark eyes flashed around the bar. “Sure, Billy. Say, why don’t you get yourself a table for the next number, huh?”

  “Better yet,” a raspy voice growled. “Why don’t you join me in my office, Mr. Resnick? I’m afraid I must insist.”

  Resnick turned. Jaxtifar M’koth stood in the shadows mere inches away. Resnick was amazed that the alien had gotten the drop on him, despite the Noctu being synonymous with predatory stealth. “Mr. M’koth, I presume. I didn’t realize you were an employee.”

  The Noctu showed his fangs in a smile, one hand in the pocket of his tuxedo; no doubt gripping a heater. At this range, it didn’t matter if it was a .38 or a ray gun. Shot dead was still shot dead. “Please, call me Mack.”

  “Sorry, Billy,” Marquez mumbled.

  Resnick stepped away from the bar, hands spread. “Okay, Mack. Let’s talk in your office.” The Noctu directed him to one of the private rooms behind the saloon area. It wasn’t a spacious office, but it was nicely furnished with thick red carpet. Silver-chased ceremonial blades and armor hung on the dark-paneled walls. M’Koth motioned him into one of a pair of leather chairs in front of a heavy mahogany desk. The alien took the plush, high backed chair on the opposite side of the desk, facing Resnick.

  “Care for a smoke, Mr. Resnick? I’ve got Cubans, Dominicans, and Gelkindu.”

  Resnick scanned the room, trying to ignore the fact that being this close to the Noctu made him queasy. “I’m fine, thanks. I guess we should talk, huh?”

  “I guess. I can tell by the look on your puss that you didn’t come all the way down here just to gawk at me. And please keep your hands where I can see them. I smell the gun oil under your jacket. I’d hate for our conversation to end on an abruptly rude note.”

  Resnick shifted in the chair. He could try for the gun, but then he wasn’t being paid to fight—only to deliver a message. “Okay then. My client wants to make a deal. He’s authorized me to offer you twenty-thousand dollars in exchange for the item you took from his men.”

  The Noctu chuckled, revealing more fangs. “Let’s see it. Slowly.”

  “I don’t have the dough on me. He wants to set up a drop-off.”

  M’Koth scratched absently at the tuft of black fur beneath his elongated jaw. “Tell me, Mr. Resnick, what exactly do you know about your client? What do you know about the item?”

  Resnick shrugged. “I know he’s a very rich and influential man, especially in this part of the country. As for the item, I know it’s a piece of Guest technology.”

  M’Koth reached into his pocket, extracting a shiny ray gun. He placed it on the desk between them and settled back in his chair. “Did you know that his real name is Albrecht Pohl? That he is also a Grand Wizard in the Ku Klux Klan, and secretly a high-ranking member of the Bund?”

  Resnick didn’t, and that bothered him. He hadn’t done the leg-work to find out. He’d simply looked at all those zeroes on the check—a check with the Perigeaux name on it might as well have been a bar of gold. “What difference does that make? He says you almost killed two of his employees when you stole his property.”

  M’Koth growled and his clawed fingers flexed. “His property? It was ours before his people—using the United States government as their muscle—stole it from us. I just stole it back. And they should be damn glad I didn’t kill anybody. Malgrim knows I wanted to...”

  The door opened behind Resnick. He tensed, sensing an ambush, but caught the scent of vanilla and jasmine instead. “Lilly...” He couldn’t help but smile as he rose from the chair, M’Koth and the ray gun forgotten. He faced the tall, lovely woman gliding into the room. In that moment, Resnick was in his twenties again; a reckless rum-runner with pockets full of cash and eyes for only her, his Jazz Queen of the Crescent City.

  “Hello, Bill.” Lilly offered him a half smile. “Been a long time.” She settled on the edge of the desk and opened a silver cigarette case.

  “Too long,” Resnick agreed, regretting the day he’d swore never to come back here. They had come to that point in every relationship where you have to take the plunge or move on. And he had made the wrong decision. “But I’m back now.”

  “On an errand for a racist and a fascist,” M’Koth observed as he lit Lilly’s cigarette. “Not to see you, my dear.”

  Lilly tilted her head back and exhaled a jet of perfumed smoke. “Looks like you’re on the wrong side of the ball. But then...” She locked eyes with him. “It’s not the first time... Is it, Bill?”

  “No, I guess not.” Resnick eased back into his chair. “So what’s the score? What is this thing, and why all the fuss over it? I mean twenty-thousand bucks is a lot of dough.” Not to mention the three grand Perigeaux was paying him.

  “It’s called a proto-nexus,” Lilly explained. “If used right, it could make the entire generating capacity of the Tennessee Valley Authority look like a pot-bellied stove.”

  M’Koth growled. “And if used wrong, it could turn your planet into a scorched cinder.”

  Resnick inhaled and sat up straighter. “And you say Per
igeaux is in with the Nazis?”

  “Yes.” M’Koth nodded. “You really want him packing this thing off to Berlin any time soon?”

  Resnick rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had stepped in it good this time, and now he was stuck smack-dab between Guests and Nazis. He glanced at Lilly, saw her hooded green eyes studying him, and he knew what his play had to be. M’Koth was an alien, a crook and a thug, but at least he wasn’t a fascist. “So what do we do now?”

  The sounds of gunshots and screams came from outside.

  M’Koth pushed a button under his desk. A ceremonial shield on the wall slid upward to reveal a bulbous mirror. Resnick blinked as the mirror’s surface played a movie of men in white hoods and robes with shotguns and pistols storming the front rooms of Lilly’s Place. Staff and patrons were returning fire, creating chaos as men and women went down in the haze of gun smoke.

  “I guess twenty-thousand was too high a price to pay, after all,” Resnick muttered.

  “You led them here!” M’Koth snarled, snatching up the ray gun.

  Resnick jumped to his feet. “Not intentionally! I didn’t know anything about the Klan. They must have been tailing me all day.” Though he wondered how. He could spot a shadow a mile away.

  “We can work it out later.” Lilly said as she pushed another button. M’Koth’s desk slid across the carpet to expose a steel hatch in the floor. Lilly yanked this open, revealing a spiral staircase. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here!”

  “What about the nexus-thingy?” Resnick asked as he helped Lilly onto the first step.

  The office door crashed open and M’Koth fired. The ray gun’s bolt incinerated a pair of sheet-clad Klansmen. “Use that to light your next cross, boys!”

  “It’s not here,” Lilly said as Resnick hastily followed her down. “Come on, Mack! We’ve got to go!”

  Resnick heard the frenetic sounds of combat in the room above. “I’ll hold ‘em off, Lil,” the Noctu shouted. “It’s up to you to get it out of here!” The steel door slammed shut above them, plunging the stairwell into darkness.

  Lilly flicked a switch and an array of lights came on, illuminating the old bootlegger tunnel. “I see you’ve made some improvements since my day,” Resnick said as they bounded off the iron stair and headed down the cramped corridor.

  “One thing about running a speakeasy, I already had the infrastructure in place to help the Guests when the locals turned against them.”

  “So how’d that happen?” Resnick wondered. “What made you become a champion for the bat-boys, the smoothies, and the buggers?”

  Lilly turned and glared at him. “Buggers! You know that sounds an awful lot like the word your people use for mine, Bill.”

  Resnick blinked, mouth dropping open at her sudden rage. “I’d never—”

  Lilly spun on her heel and kept going. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I guess when you’re treated like a second-class citizen by the world you’re born into, you notice when newcomers are treated even worse.”

  Resnick swallowed the bitter words. He deserved them. He wondered how fine a line separated him from the bastards in the hoods upstairs; from the goose-stepping jerks in Europe. Hell, he knew people still called him Pollack behind his back, so why did he look down his nose at the Guests? “Always gotta have somebody lower on the pole to kick, I reckon. Makes us feel better.”

  “What?” Lilly asked as they climbed a flight of stairs dug into the tunnel, ascending to an upper level.

  “Nothing. I hear something behind us. You think it’s Mack?”

  Lilly flicked a wall mounted switch. “One way to tell.”

  The lights went out. Shouts and curses, the sounds of men falling echoed from the darkened tunnel’s origin. “Not Mack...” Her voice was hard with emotion. “He doesn’t—didn’t need light to see.”

  “But we do.” Resnick reached for the book of matches in his pocket.

  “Wait.” Lilly flicked the lights back on.

  “What are you doing? I’ve got a pistol, but it sounds like a hell of a lot of guys coming this way. Pissed off and armed guys.”

  “Just wait.” Lilly smiled. It was a hard, angry smile, the kind he hadn’t seen in a long time, and one he didn’t miss. He knew from personal experience that whoever was the reason for that smile was in for a great deal of trouble.

  Shadows appeared on the tunnel floor below them. Resnick drew the .45 and worked the slide; stepped to put himself between Lilly and their pursuers. He figured it had to be at least a dozen men. “Have to make ‘em count.”

  “You won’t need to pull that trigger.” Lilly pushed a button beside the light switch.

  The rank stench of river water and the thunderous roar of thousands of gallons rushing through a breach in the walls filled the tunnel. The cries of the drowning Klansmen were choked off almost instantly. The water rose to the level of the bottom step, a single hood floating on its surface. A hood bearing the circled cross of a Grand Wizard.

  Resnick safetied and holstered the pistol. “I guess I’d better cash that check soon.”

  “Come on.” Lilly turned back up the tunnel. “We’re not out of the woods just yet.”

  They hurried through the winding corridor which emerged into what resembled a cramped root cellar. A Noctu woman armed with a ray gun stepped out of the shadows. “Lilly! We heard there was trouble at the club.”

  “Mack’s dead.” Lilly placed her hand gently on the Noctu’s shoulder. “But he bought us time to get the proto-nexus to safety.”

  The alien leveled her pistol at Resnick’s face. “He’s a spy!”

  Resnick raised his hands. “What? No!”

  “He’s got a tracer on him!”

  Lilly stepped between Resnick and the ray gun’s muzzle. “Let me see.”

  The Noctu handed Lilly a device about the size of a cigarette lighter. It had a tiny movie-screen, and it beeped as she held it up to his hands. She looked up with a frown. “An Alphaeton gene-tag. That’s how they tracked you to the club,” Lilly explained. “You said Perigeaux gave you a check? The tag must have been in the ink.”

  “I’m sorry, Lil. I swear I didn’t know.”

  Lilly turned to the Noctu woman. “It’s okay. He’s not a spy. But we have to hurry. They’ll be coming soon.”

  The female Noctu reluctantly allowed Resnick to follow Lilly up the steps and out of the root cellar. Resnick blinked, overwhelmed at sight of what was on the other side of the flimsy-looking doors. They had emerged into a massive building bigger than any warehouse he had ever seen. Occupying most of that cavernous space was an immense shiny metallic sphere dotted with lights, antennae, windows, and other mechanical oddities. “What the hell...?”

  “Another colony ship,” Lilly said. “We’ve been building it for four years. But the proto-nexus is the only thing that can power it.”

  “So, you’re trying to help the Guests leave?”

  Lilly frowned. “I’m helping them escape. Hopefully they can find a world that will actually welcome them, instead of greeting them with hate, contempt, and exploitation.”

  Resnick shook his head. “That thing’s enormous, but it ain’t nearly big enough to hold all of ‘em. The original was at least ten times that size.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” a little lizard man announced, scurrying over an open supply crate filled with ray guns, and up the side of a bank of machinery to look Lilly in the eye. “We don’t have enough time to summon all the selected passengers, and the proto-nexus isn’t at full charge.”

  “You’re a Bh’inn,” Resnick said recognizing the lizard man’s race. “I thought all of you came down in Central Europe.”

  The Bh’inn licked one of his bulbous eyes, head cocking to the side. “Most of us did. Hitler and Stalin were not the most cordial of hosts, however. Not to us, at least. They preferred to buy into the propaganda espoused by the Alphaeton and their Ch’kath enforcers. Great minds may think alike, but so do evil ones, it seems.”

 
“Dr. Ssilke is our chief engineer,” Lilly explained. “This is his baby.”

  “One that is doomed to be stillborn, it would appear.” The Bh’inn sighed.

  “How much energy and time do you need?” Resnick asked.

  Ssilke looked at him in thought. “The proto-nexus has barely enough power to get us out of Earth’s orbit at present, and it’ll take at least a week to summon everyone.”

  Lilly rubbed her eyes. “We don’t have the time. Even if that was Perigeaux’s hood in the tunnel, he certainly wasn’t working alone. I’m sure the Bund will be coming next.”

  Resnick thought for a moment. “Can you reach the moon? Maybe you could set up a colony there until your nexus-thingy recharges.”

  Ssilke cocked his head. “Probably. But if we use the energy now, at less than full power, we could be there for thirty or forty of your years before it recharges. And we only have about ninety people here.”

  Gunshots sounded outside the building along with police sirens. “Perigeaux must have had political allies,” Resnick said. “Looks like you’ve got a choice, Doc. Whether you get some of your people to the moon or not, we can’t let the nexus fall into the hands of whoever’s outside.”

  “I’ll begin the launch countdown.” With that, Ssilke scurried away.

  “And I’ll give you as much time as I can.” Resnick snatched a ray gun from the opened crate.

  “Wait.” Lilly grabbed his shoulder. “Even with that, you can’t fight them all. You’ll be killed.”

  Resnick took her in his arms and kissed her the way he used to, the way he had wanted to for years. Letting her go, he looked into her eyes. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Lil. Maybe this’ll help to balance the scales.”

  Lilly picked up another ray gun and winked. “That’s not what I meant, Romeo. I’m a better shot with these.”