Eclipsing Vengeance

by Jeremy Michelson

  She approached the chairs, her orange eyes fixed on mine. Her lips were full and a dark shade of blue. She didn’t look happy to see me.

  “So this is the sibling of the famous Buck DeHaas,” she said. The tones of her voice were low and velvety. If she’d been human, her voice would have been seductive. In this situation it was just plain scary.

  “Hey, how ya doing?” I said, “Roy’s the name. Who are you?”

  I tried to keep my tone light. At least I managed to not let my voice shake or crack with the fear that was coursing through me.

  “I am Yen Kovan,” she said, “And you are the responsible for the death of my brother.”

  Well crap. This wasn’t going to go well.

  I cleared my throat and tried to put on a smile. “Well, missy, he was pretty intent on killing me, so I was just defending myself.”

  She raised her hand as if to rake her clawed fingers across my face. Her features twisted into a savage look. Somehow she restrained herself.

  “Lesser species should submit to their superiors,” she said.

  “Yeah, who gets to decide who’s superior?” I asked.

  Her fingers curled into a fist and I braced for the blow that was going to come.

  “Transmission is ready,” the Blinky said.

  The Don lady gave him a withering look. Then she gave me a jagged toothed smile and lowered her hand.

  “Justice will be served Terran,” she said. She lowered herself to the chair next to me. I scooted over to the one on the far left. It gave me the willies to be seated even that close to her.

  I didn’t want her to know that, though. So I made kissy faces at her. By the look on her face, revulsion translates pretty well across species.

  Pain lanced out from the cuffs and I slammed back in the chair. It was just a brief jolt. I gave the the Blinky a hot glare and he shook a stubby finger at me. I extended a middle one right back at him. What did he care if I pissed off the Don lady? I was the one she was gonna rip the guts out of soon.

  Jarring music blared out from the TV. It sounded like a truck load of frying pans ran into wall made out of kettle drums. It wasn’t ever gonna make the top 40 back on Earth.

  It did get my attention, though. The Don lady sat up straighter. She lifted her chin and hid her hands inside her flared sleeves. Seeing as how she was sitting all proper, I slouched back, put an ankle over one knee, and slid my hand down the front of my pants. As best I could with my wrists locked together, that is.

  The SixUnion logo faded out. Another one faded in. Where the SixUnion logo looked like something a graphic designer blew out of his nose and declared art, this new logo was much simpler. Two crossed daggers below a stylized triangular Don head, tentacles and all. It looked way too close to a skull and crossbones for my comfort.

  The unfriendly logo faded to black and another picture faded in. Surprise, surprise, it was another Don. Except this one looked like it’d been through some hell. And probably dished out quite a lot of hell by the look in his eye.

  His face–I was guessing it was a he–was blockier than the other two Dons I’d seen. The point of his chin was more rounded, the corners of his forehead not quite as sharp. His skin was mottled with deeper shades of blue. A nasty scar ran dow the left side of his face from his forehead down to his neck. Whatever got him must have cost him his left eye because he had some kind of mechanical lens thing where his orangey gold eye should have been.

  It also looked like half the tentacles on the left side of his head had been sheared off a few inches from his skull.

  He wore a high necked black tunic without any ornamentation. Maybe his face was enough to signify his rank or status. The image only showed him from the chest up, so he might have been wearing no pants for all I knew. Or he might have been wearing his Power Rangers jammies. I always thought that if I ever got to be a high powered executive and I did teleconferences I’d do them wearing my boxers.

  I wasn’t gonna ask this guy if he was going commando though.

  “Vom Banhkray,” Yen said, ducking her head in a bow, “Your presence honors me.”

  “Whatever, let’s get to it already,” Vom Banhkray said. Was that a name or a title? I seriously needed a cheat sheet for these aliens things.

  Yen’s cheeks turned a shade darker and her lips pressed to a thin line. It didn’t cheer me up that this Vom guy didn’t seem to like her. Or wasn’t interested in what she wanted. The bottom line was that I was still going to end up dead.

  “Iv Vom,” she said, “I respect your time is valuable and I shall get to the point.”

  “Oh, please, do,” Vom said. Iv must have been some kind of title. Was it Mr. or General, or Your Holiness? Or was it something that whatever was translating for me didn’t have an english equivalent?

  He raised his right hand and and leaned his head against it. Out of the five fingers on his hand, two appeared to have been sheared off at the first knuckle. A thick scar ran down the back of his hand, disappearing into his sleeve.

  My gut twisted a bit. This guy was hardcore. Either that or he had a really bad accident mowing his lawn or something. I had an uncle that got tangled on the wrong side of riding lawn mower once. He looked a bit like this Vom guy. Without the tentacles, of course.

  Yen sat up a little straighter. She waved her hand at me in a gesture that was full of contempt.

  “This creature is responsible for the death of my brother, Teh Kovan,” she said, “It has admitted this to the Stickmen. The confession was recorded and posted to the court of A.I.s. A guilty verdict was rendered and he was remanded to the nearest prison. That being–”

  “Do you have a point to this?” Vom asked, “Because I have a meeting with the Emperor in a few minutes and so far all I’m hearing is trivia. Get. To. The. Point.”

  Yen’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of blue. She sank her nails into the arms of the chair. She left deep scratches in the metal.

  “Yes, Iv Vom,” she said, “In the name of vengeance, I wish the creature to be remanded to myself and my family.”

  Vom quirked an eyebrow at her. “You are asking me to interfere in Treaty Enforcement?” he asked, “For your personal vengeance?”

  “For my family,” she said, “We are Third Circle. Our–”

  “You’re one step removed from peasants,” Vom said, “And always will be, no matter how hard you scheme. Know your place, little Kovan. I see no reason to interfere in this matter. The creature–what is it, anyway?”

  “Terran, Iv Vom,” Yen said through clenched teeth.

  “Terran? Never heard of them,” Iv said, “Whatever it is, it is not worth expending any political capital. Unless you have a broader reason to pursue this, I suggest you move on. It’s not like the Kovans don’t have a dozen more brats to expend on whatever schemes your family is pursuing.”

  The scarred Don on the screen slapped something off screen. It bonged like a warped bell.

  “Such is my ruling,” he said, “Good hunting to you, little one.”

  The screen abruptly dissolved back to the Dom death’s head logo. Then it dimmed and went black.

  That had gone better than I thought it would.

  I wasn’t ready to celebrate yet. The thing that wanted to kill me was still sitting beside me. And she looked like she was ready to start tearing me limb from limb.

  I gave her a smile. “Hey, you win some, you lose some,” I said. I tried to say it light, but my heart was going a mile a second. I was half surprised it didn’t jump up my throat, out my mouth and run out of there yelping like a dog with a cougar on its tail. I was kind of regretting my slouched pose. It made me pretty vulnerable to those metal slashing claws of hers.

  She must of thought the same thing because she jumped out of the seat. She landed on the balls of her feet with the grace of a cat. And the claws of one.

  “You die,” she said.

  Her orange eyes were filled with hot rage. At least that’s how I imagined them to be. Like two open
doors on a screaming furnace. I could almost feel the heat blasting out of them.

  I slid down out of the chair as she pounced. Metal screeched behind me. I rolled along the stone floor and scrambled to my feet. She was already airborne, flying at me.

  I folded my knees and dropped. Nails ripped across my back and we both screamed. Me in pain, her in wordless rage.

  “Lady Kovan! Lady Kovan!”

  The Blinky was shouting at her, trying to invoke SixUnion Treaty at her. He didn’t seem very confident of it, seeing as how he was crouching behind his counter, his piss yellow third eye poking above it.

  I rolled back to my feet and ran behind the short row of chairs. Yen Kovan was stalking toward them. She wasn’t in a rush now. The door was closed, locked no doubt. I wasn’t going anywhere. She could take her time and rip me apart piece by piece.

  “I am Kovan, of the Don Empire,” Yen said, either to me or the Blinky, I didn’t know, “SixUnion Treaty does not apply to us.”

  “What kind of treaty is it then?” I asked.

  “One that suits our purposes, when we so choose,” Yen said, “Now, stop your cowardly squirming and I shall end your suffering quickly.”

  “No thanks,” I said.

  She moved to the end of the chairs and I moved to the opposite end. We went around in a circle a couple times. The Blinky continued to bleat at her. With no effect. I almost told him to shut up before she got the idea to kill him too.

  Finally she growled and leapt up on the chair. The rancid cat food smell of her tried to close my throat. I was about to run over to the Blinky’s counter when something happened.

  The door opened.

  We swung our head toward the sound. She let out a short cry of rage as the Stickman flowed through the opening, squeaking and chirping with a sound like crickets having an orgy on a violin.

  The Stickman’s zillions of thin sticks ran over and across each other in a eye crossing dance that made my brain hurt. Something like that shouldn’t exist. But it did. And right at that moment I was plenty glad of it.

  Yen lowered her arms and hopped off the chair as the Stickman formed into a vague human shape and stopped near us. The cinnamon smell of him was strong enough to cut through the rancid Don and Blinky stench. For a few seconds the Stickman did nothing except squeak and quiver. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at one or both of us. Far as I could tell, the Stickman didn’t have no eyes or ears or mouth. I didn’t even know how the thing talked, unless it was rubbing or vibrating its sticks like a speaker.

  Yen put a blank expression on her face and hid her hands within her flared sleeves. Her back was ramrod straight, her whole stance stiff.

  “Lady Kovan,” the Stickman said at last, “I am filled with regret that the death of your brother has brought sorrow to you and your family.”

  Yen’s expression twisted into disgust. “Spare me your empty words, Stickman,” she said, “This is my family’s affair. Leave now.”

  The outlines of the Stickman became a little fuzzy for a moment, but he did not leave.

  “I apologize, Lady Kovan,” he said, “But this Terran is in the custody of SixUnion Treaty Enforcement. You may of course appeal to the A.I. court on Jome, but until that time, I cannot allow you to bring harm to an inmate of this facility.”

  “I am Don,” Yen said. She looked like hatred personified. I’m surprised the bundle of sticks didn’t burst into flames.

  “Yes, Lady Kovan,” the Stickman said, “And the Don worlds have agreed to honor the SixUnion Treaty. I do not believe you possess the authority to personally change treaty law upon your whim.”

  “You dare speak to me in such a manner?” she said with a hiss.

  “I speak to you more respectfully than you do to me,” the Stickman said, “Now, as I am given to understand your appeal to your home world has been denied. It is time for you to leave the Pluto Incarceration Facility. We thank you for visiting and wish you well on your journey.”

  Yen turned her burning eyes on me. I could almost feel the contained violence vibrating off her. I gave her a little smile and shrug. Oh well, babe, maybe we can dance again.

  I kept my mouth shut. I was pretty sure the Stickman could stop her if she tried to kill me, but why test it?

  Suddenly she relaxed. It was almost like she flipped a switch. The tension seemed to evaporate and her face softened. She even smiled. Which still looked scary to me.

  “You should be commended for your dedication and loyalty, Perseus Clan,” she said, “As well as the Blinkies who maintain this facility. It is very secure, is it not?”

  “Yes, Lady Kovan,” the Stickman said, “None have successfully escaped from here. You need not be concerned this individual will not serve his sentence in its entirety.”

  My ears perked up. It was the first I’d heard of a sentence. That seemed to imply I could look forward to being released someday. Of course, the Stickman took away my fledging spark of hope with his next sentence.

  “The prisoner will spend the rest of his life here,” the Stickman said, “There is no danger he will ever harm another member of your family.”

  Yen kept her cool gaze on me. “Yes, as long as he is here,” she said.

  For some reason, a chill ran over me. Gears were turning over in that blue, tentacled noggin of hers. What was she thinking?

  “Lady Kovan, it is now time for you to leave,” the Stickman said, “I shall escort you to your ship.”

  Yen gave him a dismissive wave. “Unnecessary, I know my way out,” she said.

  “I insist, Lady Kovan,” the Stickman said.

  For an instant white hot anger flashed over her face. But then it was gone, replaced by rolling eyed boredom.

  “Very well,” she said, “The wretched stink of this place is giving me a headache anyway.”

  She marched toward the door, giving the Stickman a wide berth. He followed her, the sliding threads of his body squeaking and chirping. Once they were through the door, I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief.

  A temporary one. I had an knot in my stomach that told me she wasn't through with me yet.

  Twenty-Three

  The Blinky escorted my back to my ultra comfy cell. Well, he had the beat up ice chest thing do the hard part. I doubted the Blinky wanted to dangle in terror over a chasm any more than I did.

  I barely had time to call up a chair and a fake beer than my alien psychotherapist showed up outside my cell. She was so silent I almost spilled my beer when I caught a glimpse of iridescent yellow beyond the bars.

  “You are still alive,” T’Vel said.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty surprised about that myself,” I said.

  I didn’t get out of the chair. My knees were still shaking too much to hold me up. What given the recent threats of death by a blue skinned psycho alien and bottomless chasm.

  T’Vel wrung all four of her hands together and shifted her weight from three toed foot to three toed foot. The spicy chili pepper odor of her broke through the alien sewage smell. Which didn’t help all that much, as all it did was associate chili peppers with alien poop in my mind.

  “How are you feeling, Roy?” she asked, “I can try to help you work through issues of anger or fear, if you like.”

  “Thought you weren't good at that sort of thing,” I said, “You know, having a specialty in killing stuff and all.”

  She was making subtle pointing motions at her arm. I ignored it. Whatever Buck had to say to me could wait a few. I needed to finish my beer first. Maybe finish a couple of them. My back still stung from Yen Kovan’s claws. I needed to anesthetize them scratches. And other things.

  “Roy, my healing skills are not as developed as my fighting skills, but I am still qualified. If you would come closer…” she said.

  I chugged back the beer and threw the bottle at the wall. It hit with a dull clink, and stuck there. A second later, the wall reabsorbed it. The first few dozen times the trick had amused me. Now it just depressed me. How man
y more decades did I have to look forward of bad alien beer and incomprehensible alien soap operas?

  “Yeah, I could use some mental health therapy,” I said, “You got any cures for depression caused by getting screwed by an alien system and a brother?”

  “There are therapies which we can work through for such maladies,” T’Vel said, “It would be better if we could speak face to face. Please.”

  There was a tone of urgency in her voice. I chose to ignore it. I didn’t feel like being urgent.

  “You know, I’ve always tried to do the right thing in my life,” I said, “Tried to help out my brother, even though it wasn’t my job. I’m the younger brother. He should have been looking out for me.”

  “Sibling relationships are always complicated,” T’Vel said, “I have a sibling I have not spoken to for many years. I would be joyful to receive a message from her.”

  Hint hint. I didn’t look at her. I’m sure whatever Buck had planned, it would be dangerous, and likely involve pain. Now that I started to think about it, how bad would it be to just stay here? Sure, the place smelled bad and the food was lousy. And the TV shows were too. But other than that, it was safe, warm and comfortable. What more could a guy ask for?

  “I wish I could send my brother a message,” I said, “How about: Bro? What the hell? Why did you ditch me like that, you son of a bitch?”

  “Perhaps there are answers waiting for you. Somewhere,” T’Vel said.

  Her feet tapped the floor. Her two big hands gripped the bars, nails drumming on them.

  “I don’t know,” I said, “It’s kind of comfortable here. The Stickman thinks this place is pretty secure. I doubt that crazy Don lady can get me here.”

  “You spoke with a Don?” T’vel asked.

  I gave her a quick rundown of what happened. For a long moment she was silent. I looked over and saw her body quiver.

  “Roy,” she said, “Are you aware that the technology used to create these prison cells come from the Don worlds?”