I couldn’t tell if it was the same area or not. The swath of desert illuminated by the Jeep’s headlights looked the same as any other patch in that area. I held my hands in my lap. Tried to look non-threatening.
“What do you get out of this?” I asked Julie.
“Shut up,” she said.
“Come on, give me something,” I said, “You put me through hell. At least tell me why you’re doing this. Are the Dons giving you an island in the South Pacific? Hawaii maybe?”
“She don’t owe you nothing, cupcake,” the goon said, “Now shut up.”
“Have you really been having sex with aliens?” I asked.
It was hard to tell her expression in the dim light. Of course, she seemed to be wearing mostly the same expression these days. Something between pissed off and really pissed off.
“You better shut up while you still have a head,” she said.
If I activate a shield, will the Don be able to detect it? I asked the Dendon device.
Unknown. I can stealth most energy emissions from your body, but a defensive shield is difficult to cover. I do not have information on the current state of Don sensor technology.
Which meant, don’t use a shield until I really needed it.
I didn’t think Julie was going to shoot me, though. She would have done it already if she was. That was my hope anyway.
“Did you know what the Dons did to the Dendon home world?” I asked.
“I truly don’t give a shit,” Julie said.
"They released makers into the atmosphere. Apparently, the makers attached themselves to the people and disassembled them, or dissolved them into dust."
“Still don’t care,” Julie said.
I paused. The goon started to slow the Jeep. Getting close to the Dons’ hideout?
“Bey Jodo more or less told me they were going to do the same thing here on Earth,” I said, “If I didn’t turn the device over to him.”
Silence. Was this new information to Julie?
“Good thing you didn’t try to run,” the goon said.
“You’re welcome,” I replied.
“What do you think the Dons are going to do with this thing?” I asked. I almost moved to tap my chest, but thought better of it.
“I really don’t fucking care,” Julie said, “Now, Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
The edge in her voice convinced me not to push my luck any farther. I only hoped that I sowed some doubt in her mind about whatever Bey Jodo might have planned for her.
What was the best way to cover up a crime?
Get rid of all the witnesses.
The Jeep's headlights picked out a small, rocky bluff ahead. There was something odd about the shape of it. It sloped off to the sides in a very symmetrical manner. The center of the outcropping was bare rock. Typical reddish gray stone in this area.
The goon headed right for the center of it. He didn’t slow down.
The wall loomed up in front of us. The goon started to brake. Too late. We were going to hit it head on.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Braced for the impact. My poor Jeep.
Which came to a gentle stop.
I opened my eyes. We were in a large room. Or a garage. I looked around. The walls and floor and ceiling appeared to be metal. Strips of lights overhead emitted a soft blue glow. An odor like rancid cat food filled the place.
Toward the back of the room was something that looked like a futuristic fighter ship. From the severe angles and planes of its surfaces, and the wicked looking protuberances hanging under its stubby wings, I guessed it was a futuristic alien fighter ship.
Sitting in a hanger. Inside Bey Jodo's starship.
Sixty-Nine
The hanger in the Don starship was so cold I could see my breath. The harsh blue lights overhead made if feel even chillier. The air had a metallic tang to it. With a strong undertone of rancid cat food. Definitely Bey Jodo’s ship.
Where was the blue tentacled alien himself? Shouldn’t he be here in the hanger to greet me? Give me a big hug or something?
The Jeep’s cooling engine slowly ticked over. The hanger was absolutely silent except for that and the hum of the live plasma rifle Julie had pointed at my head. Ozone wafted from the deadly end of the barrel.
The goon and Julie didn’t move. The goon stayed in the seat, hands on the wheel. Julie kept the plasma rifle trained on my face. The blue light kind of made her look like an angry Smurf.
“So...I’m pretty sure we’re in Bey Jodo’s ship,” I said, “We waiting for him or what?”
“Shut up,” Julie said.
I sighed. What had I ever seen in this woman?
Bey Jodo’s voice boomed out in the hanger. “Take him to the isolation chamber,” he said.
The goon got out. Grabbed his plasma cannon from beside the seat. He came around the side and pointed the weapon at my head. Julie swiftly moved from her position. She got out of the Jeep and took a position on the other side. The two of them stood so that they could both shoot me without getting in each other's crossfire. They were like a well-oiled machine. Professionals.
“How long have you two been married?” I asked.
“Shut up,” Julie said.
“You really make a cute couple,” I said, “Did you meet on the shooting range or something?”
“Better be quiet cupcake,” the goon said, “It’s not too late to smear your brains all over your stupid Jeep.”
That wasn’t nice. My Jeep wasn’t stupid. It was a classic.
“Get out. Slowly,” Julie said, “Go to the front of the Jeep and stop. Any sudden moves and I’ll blow your head off.”
These people really seemed obsessed with my head. Did they think I was a vampire or something? Cut its head off, that'll kill it!
I did what they told me to do. Slowly, making no sudden movements. I really didn’t want to experience having my head blasted off with a plasma cannon. I had my doubts whether the Dendon device could regenerate that much damage. Maybe it could grow me a new head, but would it still be me?
I preferred to avoid the existential crisis that presented.
“Okay cupcake, look over at that wall,” the goon said. He pointed to one side of the hanger bay. “See that yellow rectangle over there? You’re going to walk–slowly–over to it. Once you’re there you’re going to turn around–slowly again–and you’re going to put your back against the wall there. Got it?”
I did as commanded. The icy metal wall sent chills down my back. There was a yellow half-circle on the floor in front of me. The ends touched the yellow rectangle on the wall. The goon and Julie stayed outside of the circle.
Something hummed and the air shimmered in front of me. Is this some kind of containment field? I asked the Dendon device. It didn’t answer. I suspected it was busy stealthing itself.
Moments later a familiar figure entered the hanger bay. Bey Jodo, looking good in a dark gray business suit and a red power tie. His triangular face and orange eyes were framed by the blue tentacles that sprouted from the sides of his head. He walked up to the half circle. The air shimmered and buzzed.
“I actually expected you to run, human,” he said.
I shrugged. “I believed you when you said you’d kill everyone,” I said.
Bey Jodo’s thin lips curved in a smile. “I did not say that. It was merely implied.”
“So you don’t have a weapon that will kill everyone on Earth like your people did to the Dendons?” I asked.
“Who says my race exterminated the weak and stupid Dendons?” Bey Jodo asked.
Something inside me twisted. Anger flashed through me. It didn't feel like my own, though. You have something to say, little buddy? I asked it.
Silence. My twanging nerves calmed. The twisting in my gut eased.
“Can it hear me?” Bey Jodo asked, “Can it understand the words I speak?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “It really doesn’t communicate with me.”
Bey Jodo’s smirk grew. “It m
ust have a difficult time interfacing with your primitive neural system.”
“I don’t think it likes you very much,” I said.
The smirk vanished. “Irrelevant,” he said. He motioned to the shimmering air in front of me. “This is a containment field. Should you attempt to escape I will shrink the field down to the size of your head. The device will survive, but you surely will not. I don’t think your regenerative powers will be able to fix that.”
“I’m cooperating with you, Bey Jodo,” I said, “You don’t have to threaten me.”
“I don’t make threats,” he said, “Threats are for people without will or power. What I tell you are consequences of your actions.”
“All right,” I said, “So when are you going to get this thing out of me so I can go home?”
Bey Jodo laughed, a high pitched rattling sound that sent shivers down my already chilled spine.
“Home? You want to go home?” he asked.
“I thought you said you could get this thing out of me without hurting me,” I said.
Of course, I hadn't believed him. Like I was going to trust anything a blue gangster alien told me. I glanced at Julie and the goon. Her face was like stone, expressionless. The goon looked bored. Their plasma rifles were half lowered, but they still held them ready.
“Yes, what I told you was what you humans call a ‘lie’,” Bey Jodo said, “I believe the expression is: lying out my ass. Which makes no sense, but little that your pathetic, ugly species does makes any sense. The galaxy shall be better off without you.”
“Wait, you said if I cooperated you wouldn’t release your makers,” I said.
“Did I say that? You must have misheard me,” Bey Jodo said.
Movement caught my eye. The goon moved closer.
“Wait a minute,” the goon said, “Are you serious? You really going to kill everyone on the planet?”
Bey Jodo turned to him. “Yes, you have a problem with that?”
The goon’s fingers twitched on the plasma rifle. “I might, depending on where Julie and me are going to be when you do it.”
Bey Jodo half turned. He didn’t seem all that worried by the weapon in the goon’s hands. I glanced at Julie. She was still doing the statue pose.
“You’ll be on my vessel, of course,” Bey Jodo said, “You and Julie have proven to be valuable servants. You shall be rewarded upon our return to the home world.”
The goon’s eyes narrowed. He knew that was a load of bull crap. But he backed away. He probably knew he and Julie would get shoved out the nearest airlock as soon as Bey Jodo was done with them.
Or maybe the goon would go. Julie seemed to have made herself more useful to the Don than the goon had.
Bey Jodo gave me one more quick glance, then turned to Julie. “I will be preparing the ship to leave this horrid planet. Come with me,” he said.
He waved a thin-fingered hand to the goon, "Keep observing him."
Meaning me, I assumed.
Julie’s face showed no emotion. She turned on her heel and followed Bey Jodo out of the hanger. The goon watched her go. Muscles in his jaw clenched. The door hissed shut and he turned to me. Happiness was not the expression his features resembled. Quite the opposite.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, cupcake,” he said.
He moved over to a stack of boxes and sat down, plasma rifle across his knees.
“I thought you were going to retire?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Guys like me don’t retire. We get retired.” He sighed and glanced back at the door. “Looks like the whole place is going to get retired now.”
My heart sped up. “It doesn’t have to happen you know,” I said, “He can be stopped.”
The goon snorted. "Yeah? You gonna stop him? I got news for you, that little cage you're in is escape proof. Tentacle boy put me in it once and told me to get out of it. Thought it'd be easy. I've escaped from military prisons in China and the Supermax outside of Ft. Worth." He waved the rifle at the shimmering wall in front of me. "That thing doesn't have any seams. There's nothing to grab hold of."
I folded my arms across my chest. “I doubt you dug your way out of any prison,” I said, “There’s a weak link in any prison system. That’s how you escaped.”
The goon gave me a slow smile. “Maybe you’re not as dumb as you look there chief,” he said, “You think I’m the weak link gonna help you here?”
I leaned forward. “You’re not stupid, either,” I said, “You know Bey Jodo isn’t going to take you to live a life of luxury on his planet.”
“Nope, I know I’ll be dead long before then,” he said.
He eyed me. Tapped his finger on his wide chin.
"You got a proposal to make, cupcake?"
Seventy
How much time did we have?
The cold metal wall behind me chilled my skin. In front of me the containment field shimmered and buzzed. The rancid cat food-like odor still clogged my nostrils, despite the ozone stink generated by the containment field.
On the other side of the field, Julie’s goon of a husband sat on some metal containers. His cannon of a plasma rifle lay across his knees. One hand lay on the grip, finger at the trigger. I knew he could have it up and firing in a split second if he wanted. Would the containment field stop the blast?
How much could I trust him?
Probably not at all, given our past interactions.
I couldn’t tell him about Liz and her armor. I wondered where she was right now. How long would it take her to get back to the base? Would they believe her?
What choice did they have?
I sized up the goon, trying to judge how much use he would be. He’d already killed me once. No, twice, at least. And tried to kill me, multiple times. And stolen my Jeep. And betrayed the small amount of trust I foolishly put in him.
But this time his own life was at stake. What else might be at stake for him?
“What are you going to miss most?” I asked.
The goon gave me a perplexed look. “What?”
“Assuming all life on Earth gets extinguished, and you somehow survive–at least for a while–what are you going to miss most?” I asked.
He rubbed his chin. His other hand never strayed from the trigger of his rifle.
“You’re asking what’d I’d miss about this old ball of dirt?” he asked. He shook his head. “You’re an idiot, cupcake. Ain’t nothing forever. Anything I might like here could be gone in a second.
“Tell you a story. Few years back we were in Venezuela. Helping out with a regime change there. Julie and me were in deep cover. Blending in as expats. Had a little house in a decent part of Santa Teresa, few miles from the capital. Wasn’t much, but it was nice. Homey.
“Sometimes we’d walk to this restaurant, about a mile from the house. Wasn’t much either. Basically a hole in the wall. Run by an old guy with a big ol’ Pancho Villa mustache. He and two daughters were the whole crew. Had just a couple three rickety, wobbly tables and some mismatched chairs they must have scrounged from the local dump. But the food was great.
“They did these spicy pork empanadas that were like a little bit of heaven in every bite. I could’ve eaten a million of the things. They served it with this local beer that was pretty damned good too. Gave you wedges of fresh lime and a shaker of coarse sea salt. Take a bite of lime, lick of salt, then a swig of that beer...couldn’t get much better than that, I tell you.
“I remember sitting there with Julie, laughin’, havin’ a good time. We got to know some of the regulars there. They’d sit with us and we’d be there for hours, just hanging out. Eatin’ empanadas and having a beer with some good people.
"Course, we had a job to do. Had to come to an end sometime. One night we got the word it was time to switch on the revolution. I tried to warn the old guy and his daughters. Get out of town for a few days, go hid in the jungle.
“Wouldn’t listen, of course. So I had one more beer and some empanadas with them. I left
. Went to our little house on a tree lined lane. Julie had the guns ready. She had the camo and kevlar on. I suited up and we left for Caracas.
“Couple weeks later I came back to Santa Teresa. Don’t know why. Pretty much knew what I’d find there. Whole damned country had just puked hate all over itself. Our little house on the lane was gone. Ashes, along with the rest of the neighborhood. Went down to where the old man’s restaurant had been. The building was still there, but it was full of bullet holes. When I went in the place, there was broken glass and dried blood everywhere.
“I found a local who told me the old man and his daughters had tried to fight the looters and crazies when the night of madness came. They got killed of course. Guy told me they were buried in a mass grave just outside of town.”
The goon stared down at the floor. He ran a meaty hand over the back of his neck.
“Ain’t nothing good ever lasts,” he said, “That’s just something you have to get used to. Gotta move past it. Move on to the next thing, you see?”
I didn’t know what to say. The guy was evil, and so was Julie. Weren’t they? I wondered if he was putting on an act.
“Was it just business?” I asked.
He looked up. “What?”
“Was the old man and your little house, were they just business?” I asked.
The goon grinned. “Yeah, they were just business. When you got down to it, just another day on the job.”
“But it was personal, too,” I said, “Otherwise you wouldn’t have warned the old man. It was personal, or you wouldn’t have come back to look for them, to see if your house was still standing.”
The goon looked away and shrugged. I pressed on.
“Maybe you had an idea that you and Julie could stay there. Settle down. Have a nice, quiet life.”
The goon chuckled and shook his head. “We were never going to have a nice, quiet life,” he said, “That was never in the cards.”
“It was still personal,” I said, “It was more than just business.”
He didn't answer right away. He sat, brow furrowed, staring down at the floor. Finally, he let out a long sigh.
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