The Goblin and the Empire

by JD Cole

  “Well, I think we’d appreciate if she only popped in and out after checking with us, first,” Kelli said. “I can’t just grant blanket permission for her to cross our border whenever she wants, but like I said, she’s welcome to stay, or come back later with some official coordination.”

  Samantha popped a capsule from her suit, handing it to Taryn. “Thank you for the gracious offer, Your Highness,” Samantha said. “I would like to come back, but we should work out the logistics of all that first.” She looked at Taryn. “Give me a week, luv, then break that open if it’s okay for me to visit. We should have some ideas by then on how we can all communicate when we need to.” She looked over at Kassak. “And I can pass love notes between him and his fiancee until we invent the interplanetary cell phone.”

  Kelli nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

  Samantha turned to join her brother’s large strides toward the gate, but quickly rushed back to peck Taryn on the lips. “Weak!” Jezrimeli complained, as soldiers on the other side of gate locked arms and kicked their legs like an old Broadway chorus, chanting “Sam and Taryn, sitting in a tree…”

  The Sprite Queen laughed loudly, stepping in front of the large ethergate as Sean and Samantha walked through. She took a long moment to study the humans looking at her from the other side, nodding at this small alliance… and hoping this was the beginning of something much larger.

  « CHAPTER 35 »

  Stay Tuned…

  “Thanks, Thea,” the man accepted the glass of iced tea. Unlike his white-collar hosts, he was dressed casually in jeans and an untucked polo shirt. He took a long drink.

  “I’ve been wondering,” Thea asked in her heavy Aussie accent, “what’s the story behind your current alias? It’s pretty unique.” She always tried to be friendly with her husband’s associate, but despite his mellow demeanor and rugged good looks, the man had an aura that made her uneasy.

  “No story,” he shrugged. “Gray Marvin is just something random I chose. It doesn’t mean anything, isn’t tied to any of my past lives. Not like your husband,” he used the hand holding his iced-tea to point at the man standing in front of him. “Gonna be hard for you to shake that world-famous billionaire persona when the time comes.”

  “Maybe,” Nathan agreed, regarding his rich wardrobe, the six thousand-dollar beige suit with a blue silk shirt under the jacket. “But if my plans succeed it won’t matter.” Unlike his wife, his accent was pure West-Coast American, complimented by his bronze tan and sun-burnt blonde hair.

  “You’re actually gonna’ run for President of the United States,” Gray Marvin chuckled. “That would be wild.”

  “I’m not looking forward to it, but it’s the only way to get the next stage of the plan in motion. Speaking of which, how did things go in Tokyo?”

  “Yeah, about that. Was it just coincidence you needed a favor while I was there, or are you keeping track of my movements again?”

  “I only did that once, and apologized for it even though it was to save your life-”

  “Yeah, I guess that was okay,” Gray Marvin grumbled under his breath.

  “This time it was genuinely coincidence, my friend, unless you timed your visit to the appearance of an exin off the coast of Hawaii?”

  “Point taken. But Strategic Sciences got dismantled pretty quick. There wasn’t too much I could find before the Yokosuka installation got raided, and most of what I got, I got from Marlene. The kid’s turning into a regular James Bond, and Ayumi ain’t happy about it, let me tell you.”

  Nathan shrugged. “I’ve asked Marlene repeatedly to leave the risky stuff to us,” he looked at the wall where a poster of Marlene Kanzaki, a global teen pop-idol in addition to being a singer/guitarist in his symphonic metal band, Marcath 0, hung proudly. Other posters of the band and its members hung on each wall of the office. He looked at each poster in turn; with the exception of Ayumi Okada —a renowned composer and Marlene’s legal guardian— each band member covertly engaged in activities that skirted or broke legality. That included Nathan and Thea Locke. “But you know her background. And a lot of kids her age are idealists anyway, wanting to make a difference in the world.”

  “Yeah, but you rescued her from sex-traffickers, then this kid turned right around and helped you take down those same Yakuza before becoming a pop star and doing all that charity work… so she does more than talk about making a difference.”

  “Not to mention,” Thea put in, “we’re hypocrites for telling her not to do exactly what we do whenever we feel it’s necessary. She’s a smart kid and she’s been through hell, she doesn’t risk her life or career for no good reason. She’s prepping for war with the Chek’than just as much as we are.” Nathan Locke smiled at his beautiful wife. She was all business in her three-piece suit, though her wild pixie haircut —currently dyed a dark purple— made her recognizable to all their fans as the cosplaying keyboardist/pianist in Marcath 0. “But I admit,” Thea added, “I don’t like the stress it causes Ayumi.”

  “Anyway,” Gray Marvin said, “Marlene was able to pass me some files on the action that went down in Greenland. McKane was definitely there, along with a bunch of feralmen by the sound of it. Nobody’s found that submarine yet, so there’s probably still some S2 holdouts using it to move around.”

  Nathan nodded. “Possibly working with Richard McKane. I hope so, at least. And General James Burke? Do we have any new leads on his disappearance?”

  “Matter of fact, I-”

  “Oh, hey!” Thea waved a tablet at her husband, handing it to him. “Looks like he’s back, hon.”

  Nathan accepted the tablet with a kiss, and sat down in a plush chair to review the surveillance video. “Hello, Derek. I wonder what our young friend has been up to? Not many people can disappear from under my nose like that.”

  “Waddya expect, you’re the one who keeps saying he’s one of us,” Gray Marvin took another long gulp of tea.

  Nathan nodded. “Yes, I’m almost certain he is. Discovering Derek was a pleasant surprise by itself, but I can’t wait to find out more about his metahuman friends, not to mention his pet kaiju.” It was rare for Nathan Locke to be surprised by something at the same time as everyone else, but a giant blue dragon battling a Chek’than in Boston definitely counted as one of those moments. “It’s fortunate for me you’re here, Gray. I think it’s time you paid him a little visit.”

  “So,” Thea said, “this Derek Hawkins really could be the third Khorev on Earth, after you two?”

  “The second one born here,” Nathan nodded, staring at the other man.

  Gray sighed. “Yeah, okay, I looked over the cancer research he submitted to you. The kid’s got brains, no denying that. He worked out the mRNA programming exactly the way you did, even the self-correcting functions. And the chemical treatment he came up with to mitigate those rare-case cell mutations was spot-on, I know you stole that one from him.”

  Nathan grinned. “He thought he was being clever by submitting everything piecemeal to Marcath Biomed through some very elaborate online profiles. He’s fooled everyone else, but it’s what actually got me looking closer at who was producing the research. And he gave me a great excuse to finally release The Cure to the world, I really hated holding onto it for so long.”

  Thea put her hand on Nathan’s shoulder. Many long nights had been spent debating the morality of withholding cancer’s cure, among many other technological miracles, in order to avoid revealing Nathan’s secret; his plans required humanity to see him as a leader, not a savior. Nathan had been prodding humanity’s scientists and providing pointers, of course, but Derek Hawkins was obviously an impatient sort, which could prove dangerous if Nathan didn’t bring him into the fold as soon as possible.

  “Don’t forget the piles of money The Cure made for you,” Gray pointed out.

  “Ah,” Nathan waved away the comment. “Not as much as it could have been if I was greedy, and money is easy to come by. It’s all about the smoke and mirrors, rem
ember? We’re trying to prepare Earth against the Chek’than without tipping our hand.”

  “Speaking of that. Marlene says you lost the warstar again?”

  “He hasn’t returned to his shack in Louisiana. I should have approached him earlier.”

  “Doesn’t he hate your guts?”

  “Probably, that’s why I hesitated. I’m the only one left from the team that built him.”

  “You mean kidnapped him.”

  Nathan sighed. “We were lucky to find this planet and didn’t have time to ask for volunteers. As it was, we didn’t even have time to complete the conversion process, which is why it’s understandable he’d hate me. He has no idea what he is, or how important he is. But, if we can add Mister Hawkins to our ranks,” he looked at the video recording of Derek biking from the junkyard, “we’ll be able to get these humans out into the galaxy and ready to survive the Chek’than, and maybe we can finally finish McKane’s transformation.”

  “This warstar can really defend a whole planet by himself?” Thea asked.

  “Not just the planet, hon,” her husband nodded. “We designed them to guard entire star systems like Sol.”

  “Too bad you didn’t have them around during your war with the Chek’than then,” Gray Marvin said. Thea threw an angry look at him, but Nathan sighed again.

  “There was no need to create anything like a warstar before the Chek’than,” he said softly. “But McKane isn’t ready yet.” The room was silent for several awkward minutes.

  “Welp,” Gray Marvin finally put his glass on the coffee table and stood. He pulled a small data drive from his pocket and placed it next to the glass. “This is everything I got from Tokyo. There’s some extra stuff on that S2 General that went missing, too. So, guess I’ll be off to Boston in a week or two.”

  “Would you mind terribly going there now?” Nathan asked. “I’d hate for Derek to disappear again before we can talk to him.”

  Gray Marvin rubbed his eye with his palm. “Fine, as long as you let me use your private jet.”

  “Boston is literally a three hour drive from here.”

  “You want me to go or not?”

  “You just want to use the jet’s dry bar.”

  “And the flight you brought me over here on from Japan had a hot stewardess, Mary Something-”

  “Oh, no,” Thea rolled her eyes.

  “Relax, we didn’t visit the mile-high club, I just chatted her up. Didn’t get her number, though. Can you get her on the plane, too?”

  “Okay,” Nathan said, “you’re doing me a favor so I’ll have one of my pilots waiting for you at the airfield. But my employees are not escorts, you can travel alone.”

  “Ugh, alright. You’re no fun.” He looked at Thea. “Tell Lisa I said hi, will you?” He glanced at the poster of Lisa Dermot, Marcath 0’s drummer, on the wall opposite Marlene’s. Like all of Marcath 0’s members, Lisa had a day job; the pretty redhead, a retired US Air Force Colonel, was first and foremost the lead test pilot for Nathan’s aerospace juggernaut, Ivo Polyaero, where Thea Locke was also one of the lead engineers and project managers. Unofficially, Lisa also handled cargo transportation for Nathan that was less than legal.

  “She’s still married, Gray,” Thea raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Never stopped me before,” he waved as he left the office. The door closed softly behind him.

  “And started wars as a result,” Thea mumbled, then walked over to Nathan and sat in his lap. “I know he’s lived some famous lives throughout history, and made important contributions to humanity and all… but he can be a real pig.”

  “I don’t disagree,” he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss. “But two Khorev are always better than one when it comes to fighting the Chek’than.”

  “And three will be better than two?”

  “Exponentially. And we’re running out of time. Shortly after the Battle of Boston ended, my instruments picked up a distress beacon.”

  “A what? From who?”

  “It was a telepathic broadcast, likely from the Chek’than Derek and his friends were fighting. I was planning on discussing this with everyone after I finish decoding the message, but…” Nathan looked at his wife, his face rigid with concern. “One way or another, the enemy is on its way.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Whissenia ‘s vision was blurry, but she watched as, one by one, the other girls and women were hauled out onto the stage, to be displayed as merchandise which someone would buy. She and the others were all things; their misery and pain would be no consideration in whatever places awaited them following the auction. The drugs in her system were thinning, but her body still had no capacity to obey her desires to protest, struggle, or attempt an escape. But even if she did manage escape, where would she go? She suspected she was on Nemola; and if she was, she had no rights here. No female did. Escaping only meant that she would be found and taken by someone who had not paid for her, used and then likely killed to avoid problems with the slave master who presently owned her.

  Her eyes managed to produce a pair of tears as she considered everything to be hopeless. Her life and her dreams were effectively over. She had no idea if her parents or brothers were still alive, except for Hammon. One more tear fell for her oldest brother, killed by gunfire as he tried to save her. But then her eyes dried, and Whissenia awaited her inevitable sale into what she hoped would be a short life with a quick and painless death. After what seemed like hours, she found herself being shuffled up the steps from behind the curtained area, and she was placed beside the slave master-turned auctioneer. The groans and whispers from the crowd of men flowed to her ears. With the girls all concealed, the game in these auctions was to either bid on something you saw, or gamble that something better was being held until the end. Emphasis on some thing. Many of the men were being very vocal that she was not worth waiting for, that they should have bought one of the earlier girls.

  “And finally, our last virgin for the evening! Nubile, unspoiled, in the prime of health and vigor! Suitable for all your needs, domestic and otherwise!”

  Whissenia gasped as her clothes were torn off. The slave master boomed with enthusiasm; he’d already made a small fortune tonight whether the girl sold or not. “We’ll start the bidding generously low at twenty thousand marks!”

  Whissenia was not able to do much more than stand upright, but she blushed from head to toe in shame. The whole crowd of people could see she obviously spent a lot of time outdoors performing the physical labors of settler life in the outer worlds, and had a severe farmer’s tan with every bit of flesh between her knees and her shoulders pale as moonlight. Her arms came up several times to cover herself, but always fell again, too weak to do anything but hang beside her. She watched in unbelief at the callousness, the shouts from the crowd of men and aliens, vying for the right to own her for however long they found her amusing and useful. A stocky, four-legged ttumin, a cold-eyed, insect-like murien, and a human all shouted each other down, yelling higher and higher bids to the laughter of everyone gathered. It looked as if the murien was going to win, and Whissenia let out a soft whimper, the strongest symbol of despair she could muster. The only interest a murien would have in a human would be to force her into prostitution.

  “Going once, going twice-” the slave master shouted gleefully…

  “One hundred thousand marks!”

  The crowd turned to regard the new bidder. He had offered forty thousand more marks than the murien’s highest bid.

  “Who the rrhmak are you?” the murien objected.

  Whissenia focused her eyes; the newcomer looked like a young human, but he was too far away to make out his features clearly. Not that it mattered. He was as much a monster as any of these aliens were.

  “One hundred thousand!” the slave master repeated, laughing with pure delight. “Do I hear another five thousand?”

  “That’s yena bhint!” the murien cursed. But the crowd simply laughed at his certain victory be
ing snatched away from him.

  “Going once, going twice… sold to the fine young ulivi!” Again the crowd laughed, but the human “ulivi” quietly made his way toward the stage. The murien stepped in his way, grabbing his shoulder with three hands, and opening both of his mouths to bare the razor sharp fangs within. “Who do you think you are, bhint face? She’s mine!”

  ~

  Bennett Kunali’i didn’t understand a word that was being said at or around him. He had been about to leave this miserable planet when the noise from this crowd had caught his attention. The sea of minds gathered here was a cesspool that he forced himself to wade through, trying to match spoken words to thoughts when he realized what was going on with the girl up on the stage. He finally managed to match a few foreign words to the thoughts he could hear in people’s heads, coming up with a bid he could confidently shout that was far higher than what the others had already offered. This girl, unlike the first alien he’d tried to save earlier, wanted to be rescued. This girl’s spirit hadn’t been completely destroyed yet.

  Bennett even had a plan. Sort of. And then the alien insect-man grabbed him, obviously displeased at having lost the auction.

  This alien was like one of the first species he’d seen in town, the twelve-legged, fedora-wearing pimps. Bennett no longer saw the humor in that label as he once did, and had no problem smashing his large fist into the thing’s stomach, or what he assumed was its stomach. The creature doubled over, coughing and spitting from both of its mouths. Then the Hawaiian Dragon delivered a powerful backhand behind the alien’s melon-like head, and it slumped over, unconscious. Everyone around Bennett moved away to give him room. With that obstacle taken care of, he stepped up to the stage where the smiling slave master pulled out some kind of data pad. Bennett gathered that this was how money was exchanged. Perfect. He reached into his pocket, pretending to pull out a credit card. The slave master said something he didn’t catch, and Bennett simply smiled and nodded, accepting the data pad and placing his imaginary card in the slot, making sure his back was to the crowd and anyone else who might be watching. He played at pressing some buttons and handed the pad back to the slave master.