Xenotech Rising: A Novel of the Galactic Free Trade Association (Xenotech Support Book 1)

by Dave Schroeder

  “Thanks,” said Poly. She seemed to put both her pleasure at being included and her regret over being interrupted into that one syllable.

  “You’re partners?” squealed Terrhi. I could almost see the red hearts in her eyes as she claimed a proprietary interest in our romance.

  “Business partners,” I said. Poly leaned close and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. All three of Terrhi’s eyes went even larger than saucers. “And friends.”

  “Very close friends,” said Terrhi, giggling. Poly winked at her and kissed me again.

  “You’re so cute together,” said Terrhi. “But come on. Daddy said I was supposed to get you right away.”

  I gave Poly a kiss this time, for Terrhi’s benefit and to let Poly know that I also regretted being interrupted. Then I picked up my backpack tool bag and followed Terrhi as she reversed course out of my apartment. Watching a pink Shetland pony-sized elephant-shaped little girl with large blue polka dots on her hide daintily retrace her steps was impressive. Poly cuddled close and whispered in my ear.

  “She’s adorable.”

  I nodded. Dauushans have very sensitive ears and I didn’t want Terrhi overhearing just how much I enjoyed being her honorary uncle. Some things are better to show than to tell.

  It took less than five minutes to walk to Tomáso and Terrhi’s ground floor apartment. It was nearly ten o’clock and the Ad Astra courtyard was deserted, though I did see a hint of a large, sinuous striped shape hiding in the shadows. Was Spike on guard duty?

  Terrhi told her phone to let us in and the reinforced steel front door rolled upward noiselessly. I knew we were being scanned by a dozen sensors and could be stopped by three non-lethal and two lethal means if there’d been a problem with our right to enter. How? Because I’d designed the system. Poly and I followed Terrhi to her father’s study. Strange grunting sounds echoed down the hallway. When we entered the study the source of the odd sounds became obvious.

  Tomáso and a smaller female Dauushan were standing on the ground level of the room and appeared to be locked in mortal combat, their trunks entwined and straining against each other. The grunting sounds were coming from Tomáso as he fought back against the smaller Dauushan. Tomáso noticed us and stopped fighting. His opponent stopped, too.

  “Thanks,” said Tomáso to the other adult Dauushan. “That should help a lot.” The female nodded her head and rippled her trunks in a salute to Tomáso then left the room and closed the study door. “Best masseuse on Terra,” he said. “I’ve been practicing my juggling for the First Contact Day parade since nine this morning and that massage should keep my trunks from stiffening up.”

  “You’re getting old Daddy,” said Terrhi.

  “True enough, little one, true enough,” said Tomáso. “But where are my manners? Ms. Jones, I assume? You look just like your mother.”

  Poly inclined her head in a small bow and smiled. I expect she knew her way around diplomatic missions.

  “I am Tomáso Kauuson, Dauushan consul for this sector. As I’m sure Jack has told you, I also have other duties.”

  “Very pleased to meet you, Your Excellency,” said Poly in flawless Dauushan.

  “I met your mother at a reception at the Dauushan royal palace to mark the publication of the first edition of Keen’s Guide to Dauush,” said Tomáso, sticking with English.

  “I was there,” said Poly.

  “You were?” said Tomáso. “I’m sorry I missed you.”

  “I was fourteen and shy. It’s easy to overlook one small girl in a room full of Dauushan dignitaries.”

  “Very true,” said Tomáso, “but I’m sure it was my loss.” He motioned with his trunks, indicating that we should climb the stairs leading up to the raised platform that would put us at his eye level. That’s when I noticed there were two other people in the room. Lieutenant Lee from the state capitol building—and Shepherd, the enigmatic Pâkk who’d helped me after my shower disaster. Shepherd was sitting in shadows at the far end of the platform but Lieutenant Lee, looking dapper in his capitol police uniform, was seated at a small, round table. There were two unoccupied chairs next to him. That meant Tomáso knew Poly would be joining me. I’d have to find time to speak with him privately about his snooping on my personal life—and needed to have the same conversation with Shepherd. But now was not the time.

  “Thank you for getting Jack and Poly,” Tomáso said to Terrhi, rubbing the top of her head affectionately with two of his trunks. “Please go get ready for bed now.”

  “But daddy, it’s vacation,” said Terrhi. “I want to stay and listen.”

  “This conversation is not for blue spotted children,” said her father. “Go watch Toy Story 12.”

  “O-kay.” Terrhi left, reluctantly. The study door rolled smoothly shut behind her.

  Poly and I reached the top of the platform and stood by the empty chairs at the table. “Martin Lee,” said the lieutenant, standing and extending his hand to Poly.

  “Poly Jones.” She shook hands with him. I did the same then we all sat down and I put my backpack tool bag on the table and removed Chit’s bottle.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said, “Stop watching C-SPAN. It’s council of war time.”

  “I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” said Chit. “Grab your equines.”

  I detected the familiar odor of an ink jet printer then Chit emerged from her bottle. Her carapace was painted in an excellent reproduction of Picasso’s Guernica, though you’d need a magnifying glass to do it justice.

  “You, you, and you, I know,” Chit said, bobbing her body in the direction of Tomáso, Lieutenant Lee and Poly. “But who are you?” Chit pointed a front leg at Shepherd.

  “Don’t ask,” said Shepherd softly from his corner.

  “Jerk,” muttered Chit. I didn’t know if I agreed. My judgment on Shepherd was still pending.

  “What did you see during your reconnaissance at VIGorish Labs?” said the largest person in the room to the smallest.

  “I saw a grajja factory,” said Chit. “And a lot of grajja powder in big bags on pallets.”

  “Tell them how the bags were marked,” I said.

  “They had a logo,” said Chit. “A black spiral galaxy under a red circle slash.”

  “Earth First Isolationists,” said Lieutenant Lee. “Just like at the Capitol.”

  “Maybe,” I said, and told them about my visit to Oscar Mosley’s house.

  “That squares with our background investigations,” said Lieutenant Lee. “Our research into the Earth First Isolationists said they were harmless senior citizens. Then Mr. Buckston here stops three of them, who are by no means seniors, from damaging the network room where broadcasts from the capitol building are routed off-planet. Do you know how much state revenue flows through that room?”

  “I do,” I said. “At least you have Cornell, Penn and Princeton in custody.”

  “I betcha they was outta there by dinner time,” said Chit.

  “Sad, but true,” said the lieutenant. “There were seven news crews waiting to ambush us when we transferred them from the capitol building to our holding facility. The three of them were playing to the cameras and reciting Isolationist slogans about ‘Striking a mighty blow for Terra!’ and ‘Protecting our companies from rapacious multi-stellar corporations’ and ‘Saving our women from slavering, multi-tentacled alien invaders.’ It was all over Terran media and circulated off-planet. My commander didn’t want to turn them into martyrs. Since no damage was actually done, thanks to you, Mr. Buckston, the capitol police didn’t object when their lawyer argued they should be released on their own recognizance.”

  “Crap,” I said, thinking something stronger.

  “Remember, I smelled somethin’ rotten in that network room,” Chit whispered to me. “A bug was there from one o’ them unsavory hives that gives us honest Murms a bad name.”

  “We’ll have to check it out later,” I whispered back.

  “Thank you for investigating the factory,” said Tom�
�so to Chit.

  “No problem,” said my artfully adorned bug buddy. Chit looked at me. “Can I go back to watching my programs now?”

  “Sure,” I said. I gave her a peanut and she climbed back in her bottle. It wasn’t wise to interrupt Chit too often. Tomáso spoke again.

  “Ms. Jones,” said the big Dauushan. “I understand you determined that WT&F was not involved in providing raw materials for the grajja processing facility?”

  “That’s right,” said Poly. “The rabbots WT&F fabricated are being repurposed to consume kudzu.”

  I smiled. That was one of my better ideas.

  “But I was able to do additional research into Factor-E-Flor, the company that sold WT&F the rabbot fabrication plans,” said Poly. She’d done more research? That was news to me.

  “What did you learn?” said Tomáso.

  “There’s a social media group for receptionists,” she said, “and I asked if anyone had dealt with a company named Factor-E-Flor. I heard back from the man at the front desk for a small 3D printing firm in Lexington, Kentucky. He told me his company fabbed and sold rabbots to more than a dozen of their local clients—all golf courses.”

  “Kentucky bluegrass,”I said, looking sideways at Poly.

  “One of the very best raw materials for grajja,” said Tomáso.

  “Factor-E-Flor is owned by the James K. Polk Group, which is a subsidiary of EUA Corporation,” said Poly.

  “And EUA Corporation owns VIGorish Labs,” I said. “And VIGorish Labs is training a private army.” That got everyone’s attention. I asked my phone to project a video of the hundreds of fit-looking men and women in pink camouflage I’d seen getting off buses at the hotel this afternoon.

  “That’s the Dauushan Rangers’ camouflage pattern,” said Tomáso. It was hard for me to picture a stealthy Dauushan ranger the size of an armored personnel carrier but maybe one adult Dauushan can be stealthy to another adult Dauushan.

  “Tell him about Tony Zed,” said Poly. I told them about my interview with Anthony Zwilniki, his incredibly sophisticated artificial reality systems and his interest in hiring me to work for him full time on some sort of Orishen technology. I noticed Tomáso try to glance surreptitiously at Shepherd. Glancing surreptitiously isn’t all that easy when you have three eyes the size of hubcaps. Shepherd didn’t react. Did he ever?

  “I need to send this information back to Dauush,” said Tomáso, “but we won’t be able to take any action until Sunday at the earliest. All my personnel are tied up with the First Contact Day Parade activities.”

  “So are mine,” said Lieutenant Lee. “Every capitol, state and local police officer in north Georgia is on double shifts tomorrow.”

  “First Contact Day celebrations can get boisterous,” I said.

  “I think they’re more worried about heading off actions against non-Terrans,” said Poly. I mentally applied my foot to the back of my head. Right. Law enforcement was concerned about possible attacks by anti-GaFTA organizations and individuals, not drunken college students.

  “What can we do now?” I asked.

  “I’ll try to get a police stealth drone authorized to observe the grajja factory,” said Lieutenant Lee, “though it might take 24 hours to get the necessary sign-offs.” The powers that be might act faster if grajja affected Terrans, I thought. But as it was, the delay was to be expected on a major holiday weekend.

  “Thanks,” I said, thinking I’d try to arrange some informal electronic surveillance sooner, but didn’t want to admit that fact in front of a representative of Georgia law enforcement.

  “You do know that VIGorish Labs has a float in the parade tomorrow, don’t you?” said Tomáso.

  “And a precision drill team, according to the program,” said Lieutenant Lee. “Should I be worried?”

  “Yes.” Tony Zed certainly had me worried.

  “I expect there’s very little that twenty-one adult Dauushans can’t handle,” said Tomáso. “We can try to trace which Dauushan planet is their target for this grajja.” I was concerned about how fast they’d follow up.

  “Everyone at the consulate is marching in the parade?” I said. I knew that was the size of the Atlanta Dauushan diplomatic contingent.

  “Everyone except Terrhi,” said Tomáso. “I appreciate you and Poly keeping her company for the morning.”

  “And we appreciate the use of the Dauushan consulate’s private box tomorrow,” said Poly. “Thank you for helping Terrhi select the flowers for my date last night, too. The orchids were lovely.”

  “My pleasure, Ms. Jones,” said Tomáso.

  “Please, call me Poly.”

  “And you looked quite lovely wearing them,” said Tomáso. Poly turned her head in my direction.

  “I gave Tomáso and Terrhi a picture of you wearing the flowers,” I said by way of explanation.

  “Good,” said Poly. “I don’t like being spied on.”

  Who does, I thought. I’d have to have that conversation with Tomáso and Shepherd soon.

  “I do have one other favor to request,” said Tomáso, looking at Poly and me.

  “What can I do to help?” I said. Poly nodded in agreement.

  “Terrhi will undoubtedly be waiting for this meeting to be over so that she can talk both of you into telling her bedtime stories,” said Tomáso. “Don’t keep her up too late.”

  “We won’t,” said Poly. “We have plans for later this evening.”

  “So we’ll keep it to just one story each,” I said. Yeah, right.

  “I’ll let you know what happens with my surveillance drone request,” said Lieutenant Lee, clearly speaking to Tomáso, not us civilians.

  Tomáso looked at me and the message I received from his look was that he’d keep us in the loop. I was glad to know that at least Dauushan law enforcement trusted us—or the head of their equivalent of the DEA did, anyway. Given my misdirection outside the network room at the state capitol building I can understand Lieutenant Lee’s wariness about trusting me.

  The meeting seemed to be over so Poly and I stood up. I nodded to Lieutenant Lee and he nodded back. We descended the stairs from the platform to the floor and headed for the door to the study. I looked over my shoulder to catch Shepherd’s eye before I left but he was already gone. Then the study door rolled up.

  “Uncle Jack, Aunt Poly, tell me a story,” said Terrhi. As expected she was waiting right outside. Spike was next to her, rubbing his fur against her soft juvenile hide. She was incredibly cute. It would be challenging to get away with only telling one bedtime story each, but we’d manage. Poly was skilled at providing incentives for desired behaviors.

  * * * * *

  It was eleven o’clock by the time we finished story time with Terrhi. I went first and told her the story of Mowghli, the little Dauushan girl who was raised by Pâkk on a jungle planet. It was a hit, especially when I described Mowghli’s first encounter with Spykke, a dangerous, but later friendly striped carnivore who liked to pounce from trees. Poly told her the story of the Empress’s New Clothes—which took a little creative translation since Dauushans seldom wear any. Apparently they did wear coverings for ceremonial occasions which gave Poly somewhere to start. While Poly elaborated Spike deigned to let me rub his stomach. Soon both little girl and cat were asleep. Poly and I headed back to my place. It was a beautiful night to walk through Ad Astra’s central courtyard holding hands.

  “I like being Terrhi’s Aunt Poly.”

  “And I like being Uncle Jack.”

  “You’re really good with kids.”

  “Uh, thanks,” I said, wondering about possible motives for her comment. Then she distracted me.

  “Jack, where’s Terrhi’s mom?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I’d seen Terrhi around in the courtyard for weeks but just really met her for the first time yesterday. That’s when I connected her to Tomáso. He’s never mentioned anything about his wife.”

  “Interesting,” said Poly. I looked at her and she
was staring off into the distance. It seemed like she was trying to retrieve a lost memory.

  “What is it?” I said.

  “I was trying to remember the reception where Tomáso said he met my mother.”

  “Any luck?”

  “No. I was at an age where all I wanted to do was disappear into the wallpaper. I didn’t want to be there but my mom insisted.”

  “At least you outgrew your awkward stage,” I said.

  “Only on the outside. I remember that it was one of those fancy receptions with the Prime Minister and the Matriarch and the Terran ambassador attending.”

  “It will come to you,” I said. “And here we are.” My phone unlocked the door to my apartment and we entered. When the door closed behind us Poly slid into my arms and cuddled close. Her warm lips were intimately close to my ear.

  “Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

  I kissed her. We managed to make our way to the sofa without breaking the kiss or opening more than a few millimeters between our bodies. I thought about breaking off another piece of flavor bush for us to share but Poly’s kisses were sweet enough already.

  By one in the morning we were at a point where I was far too likely to do something I didn’t feel comfortable doing, especially with at least two non-Terran species listening in.

  “Would you like me to drive you home?”

  “No,” said Poly.

  “I’ll take the sofa, you take the bed.”

  “Okay, but there’s room for two in the bed and I’ll respect you in the morning.”

  “But I wouldn’t. You can use one of my t-shirts to sleep in. I’ll get it for you.”

  “Thanks,” said Poly. She followed me into my bedroom. I checked my dresser for t-shirt options.

  “Do you want ‘Goodbye Carbon’ or ‘Starbuzzed,’” I said, holding up a black and a white logo t-shirt.

  “‘Starbuzzed,’ please,” she said. I took ‘Goodbye Carbon’ then found us each a pair of clean sweatpants. I also found an unopened toothbrush and left it on the bathroom sink. Poly went into the bathroom and I grabbed a spare pillow and some blankets in my walk-in closet and took them out to the sofa.