by C M Dancha
“Great, that’s just wonderful. Are you recording his comm, Tookie?”
The manager knew JoJo wielded a certain amount of political power on Ziptowtheon, so he was careful in the way he answered. “Yes, the comm is being recorded, but I can’t guarantee a quality recording. Our system is very old and long overdue for an equipment update. I’ve been asking for the funding….”
JoJo was in no mood to hear excuses. “Yeah, yeah. Tookie, I don’t want to hear about your problems. Just make sure the recording doesn’t get lost. Understand?”
“I will do as you instruct, Comrade JoJo.”
Morg knew he wouldn’t be able to make a direct comm to Yanda. The last thing he wanted to do was leave a recording of his contact with Yanda so a Ziptowtheon agent could decode and listen to it. He thought fast and came up with a way to mislead JoJo and whoever he was spying for.
“Sam, I know this is a lot to ask, but can you do me a favor?”
It only took one slight nod of Jimmy’s head for her to respond. “Anything, Officer Morg.”
“Good. Turn on the transceiver’s recorder so all you have to do is send my message directly to the private comm number I’m going to give you.”
For the next minute, Morg spoke a coded message into Sam’s recorder. It was in an ancient dialect of Yandan which very few Yandans were aware of. Its use was by military commanders when absolute secrecy was needed during combat. There was no reason to worry about intercepted messages because the ancient language confused the enemy. They had no idea what the hell was being said. But, anyone familiar with this ancient language would understand Morg’s message. “Trifect, Morg reporting. We are approximately six light years from Earth. Temporarily delayed. The transport is being refurbished at coordinates 2323565-505-897. Cargo intact. Will proceed without further delay to Earth.”
“Sam, send this message to private comm number 8789999-9. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Officer Morg.”
“Good, good. You take care of Jimmy and go underground until he regains his health. I’ll check back in with you when I can.”
Rather than say goodbye and risk Sam breaking down and start sobbing again, Morg disconnected the communication. He had made some mistakes when talking with her like mentioning Gratiot Avenue and Jimmy’s entire name. With these clues and a couple others, JoJo and his boss could figure out to who and where Morg communicated. He couldn’t undo those mistakes. He considered returning to the communications center later to destroy or steal his comm recording. But that would give JoJo and his boss more reason to find out where the comm went and what was the true translation of the secondary message. He could only hope the old recording equipment in the communications center malfunctioned. There was a slim possibility JoJo’s boss wouldn’t see any merit in backtracking to Morg’s contact person.
Morg prepared to leave the private cubicle. He went very slow, pretending to drop something on the ground. When JoJo saw that he scampered out of the communications center and returned to the tram as though he never left it. Morg chuckled to himself watching the cute imp in the reflective panel. It was too bad the little, lavender fur-ball was a devious double-agent.
10
“First Comrade Joe, I don’t understand why you’ve changed your mind. Twenty-two hours ago, when you docked on Ziptowtheon, everything was fine. Our original plan to invade Yanda and her alliance planets was still a go. Now, a few hours before you take off, the plan is off. What the hell is going on?”
The Earthling looked around the conference table at his primary co-conspirators. They were the same four beings who met him the previous day in the docking bay. The difference was they were jovial and agreeable then. Now, they were irritated with what First Comrade Joe, their leader, was proposing.
“Gentlemen, the overthrow of the Yandan empire isn’t off indefinitely. It’s still a go situation but I think it’s better to delay our invasion. We need more time to prepare. For example, I’m not convinced our contingency planning is flawless. I also want to make sure we haven’t underestimated the Yandan response to our invasion. You must remember the Yandans have been in continuous wars for hundreds of years. They have seen it all; every type of warfare and every weapon in existence. They are masters of espionage, counter-intelligence, misdirection, torture, and psychological warfare. They wrote the book on terrorism and counter-terrorism. Gentlemen, they are more than a formidable foe and I want to make sure we aren’t jumping the gun and …”
The Crelon interrupted the Earthling's explanation. “First Comrade. It’s true the Yandans are professional warriors, but they have never seen our secret weapon. They haven't confronted an enemy who can cloak an entire planet. We can sneak up on them, launch our attack and overwhelm them before they know what hit them. With a little more time and preparation, we'll have twenty cloaked planets. Each has a full complement of men and armament ready to invade. There is no way they can stop us. The longer we delay the more chance they’ll learn what we are up to and checkmate our superiority. First Comrade, we must move forward with the original plan. We can’t afford to wait any longer.”
The Crelon was the leader of the opposition to delay the invasion. The Earthling could tell from body language around the table that two other co-conspirators were in agreement with the Crelon. The sad thing was that the Earthling knew the Crelon was right. But he couldn’t tell the group his real reason for delaying the invasion. Specifically, he needed time to figure out how to save Beth from his old man. He needed time to get to Earth and rescue her.
The kid’s brain was calculating at a million bits per second. He must convince his co-conspirators that delaying the invasion was the right thing to do. He could pull rank on them, but he didn’t want to. He had seen how many enemies his old man created by disregarding the wishes and ideas of his supporters. There was no quicker way to turn a loyalist into an enemy than tossing aside his ideas and suggestions.
The Earthling opened his mouth to present a counter-argument even though he had no idea what to say. “Gentlemen let me add…”
The door to the executive meeting room opened with authority and in waddled JoJo. It was exactly what Comrade Joe needed to break the tension in the room.
“First Comrade Joe. I’m sorry for the interruption, but you wanted to know immediately if Officer Morg made any communications.”
“Yes, JoJo. Come in and tell us who Morg communicated with.”
The furry dwarf strutted into the room like a conquering hero and hopped up on one of the executive chairs. He started his summary of Morg’s communication like a seasoned politician. “Gentlemen, Officer Morg made one communication to a private comm number. Private comm numbers are untraceable so we have no idea who he talked with or what planet that communication went to. We do know there were two beings on the receiving end of the communication. We have their names and some clues about landmarks on their planet. Their names are Samantha and Jimmy. I don’t think it will be long before we can identify the planet where these two beings live.”
“What are some of the clues, JoJo?”
“There was mention in the communication of foot fetish murders, a redhead Earthling woman and someone hiding on their planet. As I said earlier, we have the names of a few landmarks so I’m sure we’ll be able to identify the planet very soon.”
“Very interesting.” The Earthling stared up at the ceiling. He pretended to be dissecting JoJo's report. His reaction was all for show. He knew exactly which planet Morg's communication went to. And, he understood the references to foot fetish murders, a redhead and other tidbits of information. It was a sheer miracle that Feltte Six wasn't mentioned by name.
The Earthling knew it wouldn't be hard track down the beings who received Morg's communication. The harder task would be establishing why Morg called these specific beings. What was his connection to these beings? As far as the Earthling knew, Morg didn’t know anyone on Feltte Six.
“Was there anything else interesting in the communication,
JoJo?”
“Yes, First Comrade Joe. Near the end of the communication, Officer Morg asked the female to pass along a secret message to another private comm number.”
This time, the Earthling wasn’t acting when he responded with “Very interesting. Do you know anything about this message, JoJo?”
“I’m sorry, sir. As I said before, there is no way to identify a private comm number. It would take weeks to cross-verify all the possible private numbers to isolate the actual number contacted. Also, we ran the message through our language decryption system and came up with zero. Whatever language Morg used is nothing our system has ever heard before. Who he sent the comm to and what it said is a mystery, First Comrade Joe.”
“JoJo, we need to find out who Officer Morg sent the encrypted message to and what was in it. I don’t care how many men you use and how you do it. Get me that information. Your first priority is that secret message Morg sent. Everything else is a secondary priority. Do you understand, JoJo?”
JoJo jumped down from the chair, snapped to attention and replied. “Yes sir, First Comrade Joe. I’ll work on it around the clock. I promise to get the answers.”
Morg watched the little imp strut out of the executive room like a newly crowned king. He was so serious about his new assignment it was hard holding back the laughter. The chance JoJo would find out where the secret comm went and what it said was next to zero. It did make the Earthling wonder what Morg was up to and how much he knew or suspected. There was little doubt the message went to someone on Yanda, but what did it say?
This new bit of information from the lavender fur-ball was exactly the ammunition the Earthling needed. Now, he could push through his suggestion to delay the Yanda invasion.
“First Comrade Joe, the information JoJo delivered is not good. We can assume Officer Morg is communicating with someone on Yanda and he is telling them about us. So, we need to push our invasion plans ahead, without delay. Time is our enemy, now.”
The Earthling jumped to his feet and slammed his fists on the executive table. He leaned forward and stared with indignation at the Crelon. He held the Crelon in his angry glare for more than two minutes before he said a word. The Crelon was correct in his assessment but he had to make him look like a fool.
“Crelon, this is precisely why we shouldn’t go ahead with the invasion. If we do as you suggest we’ll get wiped out. It's going to take us several weeks to move our cloaked planets into position and complete invasion preparations. What do you think the Yandans will be doing during those weeks if they know about our cloaking weapon?” When the Crelon and his two allies didn’t respond immediately, the Earthling screamed. “They’ll be figuring out a way to find our cloaked planets, even if they resort to sending out suicide ships to crash into our planets. And, you know that when we start moving the planets toward Yanda there is a shadow trail left behind. If the Yandans are paying attention, they’ll see those shadow trails. They aren't dummies. They'll wonder what is causing them and start investigating.”
The Earthling’s argument made sense even though he hated delaying the invasion. His co-conspirators were more than half convinced an invasion delay was mandatory. It was time to throw the final pieces of his argument on the table and squash the faction who wanted to invade Yanda as planned.
The Earthling sat back in his chair and began a lecture. It reminded him of the scoldings he got for being a disobedient child. "Gentlemen, think about it. Officer Morg knows about our cloaked planet but he has no reason to suspect what we are using it for. Why should he think there’s going to be an invasion of Yanda and communicate that to the Trifect? But, let's assume he does tell the Trifect and they believe him. Why would they suspect there is an armada of cloaked planets preparing to move toward Yanda for an invasion? We need to be concerned about Officer Morg’s secret communication but not overreact to what might be in it.”
The room went silent until one of the co-conspirators got enough courage to ask, “Should we kill Officer Morg?”
“No, we don’t want to do anything to raise suspicion with the Trifect on Yanda. I’ve loaded the transport with hundreds of listening and video bugs as part of the refurbishment. It will be easy to keep close tabs on everything Morg is thinking and doing. He shouldn’t be able to sleep without me knowing what’s going through that scaly head of his.”
The co-conspirators smiled or half-heartedly chuckled at the Earthling’s sarcastic remark. The kid knew he had won over everyone in the room when the Crelon asked, “First Comrade Joe, what are your orders?”
There was a slight groan in the room when the Earthling said, “We’re going to slow down our invasion plans.” After a dramatic pause, he added, “We’re going to slow down our plans because Earth is speeding up her plans.”
The Earthling could see positive energy returning to the room even though everyone was confused. The co-conspirators sat up in their chairs and leaned forward to hear more.
“You guys keep forgetting that my old man is Prefect Conway and he’s plotting to destroy the Yandans. He is hell-bent on taking complete control of the universe. The fool tells me everything because he thinks I’m his right-hand man. If he only knew about our planet cloaking technology and how I plan to unleash it on Earth.” The kid chuckled to himself and was temporarily lost in thoughts of destroying his old man.
“Anyhow, I talked to him yesterday and he’s planning to veto the CASETA Agreement which will throw Yanda into a tailspin.”
The Earthling looked around the room. He could tell from the expressions on his co-conspirator’s faces they didn’t understand the implications of what he said. He would have to spell it out, so they understood why their plans needed to change.
“Here’s what will happen when the CASETA Agreement gets trashed. The Yandans need the toxic molecules from Earth to survive. If they can’t buy them through the Agreement, they will either invade Earth or die a slow, planetary death. Unfortunately for them, they can’t afford to fight another war now. They simply don’t have enough troopers and resources. They are going to be between a rock and a hard place, as the old Earth saying goes. While the Yandans are trying to figure out what to do, my old man will be solidifying an alliance with the Floridians who also need Earth’s toxic gases.”
“So, what do you think the Yandans will do, First Comrade?”
“I think they’ll shut down or cut back dramatically on the wars they are fighting. After that, they will throw their military and financial might behind an invasion of Earth. By the time they are ready to invade, the Florid-Earth alliance will be so strong that Yanda will have a hell of a fight on their hands. My old man, on the other hand, thinks they will continue to negotiate for an amicable solution. This extended negotiating for CASETA will go on until it's too late. Yanda will realize it's a lost cause and scramble to find toxic gases elsewhere in the universe. Yanda will never forgive Earth for pulling out of CASETA. They'll do everything they can to destroy Earth and Florid."
The Earthling let his evaluation sink in for a couple of minutes before continuing. "It doesn’t matter if my old man is right or if I'm right. Either way, things are going to get really ugly for Yanda, Earth, and Florid. They will obliterate each other and all we need to do is wait. Wait until the dust and ashes have settled and then move in and take over the entire universe.”
Everyone in the room now had a devious smile on his face. But, behind the Earthling’s smile, there was the nagging thought he may have signed his own death warrant. He lied to his peers and made a decision which went against every gut-wrenching instinct in his body. A decision which was as unnatural for him as wearing a skirt, blouse, high-heels and pretending to be a sultry redhead. And, it was done for the love of a woman. A woman who he hadn’t seen in years but couldn’t get out of his head and soul.
11
“Lead Trifect, there is a field Commander here to see you. He says it's very important that he talks with you immediately.”
“What’s his name?”
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There was a slight pause before the Lead Trifect’s assistant turned back to the halo-screen and responded. “His name is Commander Fritase, and he was the field commander at the battle for Goltog.”
The Lead Trifect could hear his assistant talking with someone off-screen. The interruption annoyed the Lead Trifect. He was ready to break the halo-screen connection when the assistant revised his earlier statement. “Correction, Lead Trifect. The Commander was Officer Morg’s superior at the battle ….”
That’s all the assistant had to say to get the Lead Trifect’s attention. He jumped up from his desk and made a bee-line to the outer waiting area to meet the Commander.
“Commander Fritase, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you through the years.” Both Yandans knew the Lead Trifect was lying. He didn’t have a clue about the Commander’s prior military service, but the introduction was welcoming and respectful.
“Thank you, sir. I wouldn’t have barged in on you like this, but something tells me that what I have to show you is very important.”
“Well, come into my office, Yandi, and let’s take a look.”
Commander Fritase almost broke out laughing. It had been decades since anyone called him a Yandi which was a word of fellowship for young, male Yandans. What made it more ironic and comical was that the Lead Trifect was at least two decades younger than the Commander.
The Lead Trifect considered offering Fritase a snort from his Cannis dispenser but decided to wait. It was never a good idea to be inebriated when discussing important matters. There would be time to get high after their discussion if the meeting went well.