by Marcus Sloss
The golden light consumed me as I stepped back into the magical place. Goldie waited for me, which made sense because I had a question.
“Do we count for the total mass allotment?”
“Not on your first time inside if all you get is a translator. Every time beyond that, yes. As you can imagine, once someone enters, they tend to stay until ejection time to allow more mass to move inside. Anything else?”
I walked back to the shelving unit that was filled with plastic utensils, bars of metal, and whatever the clear covers of cellphones bricked into. I tilted my head in confusion while looking at the plants and then the shelf. Nancy, Willow, and Perci entered the storage staging area.
I addressed Goldie first. “I can trade with these items staying here, correct? Is there an inventory sheet?”
“As with other things, you merely need—”
“—to think about it and the translator will generate the on-hand storage items,” Willow said sweetly. So they had already figured out the system. “Eric, while I find it endearing and adorable when you call me a wifey, queen works better—and try not to stress out my mom. I think she really likes you, but not this. She is coping, to say the least.” Willow used her finger to indicate all of us. I shrugged. My arm pulled her in close for a long kiss.
“I like your apologies,” Willow said while puckering her lips.
I was not going to quibble over the issue. I ushered us to the side of the room and onto the transition point to the market. We shot down through the void of space in an air corridor. I was sure there was some scientific explanation about how we went from one orbital to the next without any space equipment. Hell, the process was not even cold.
The map populated. I found the nearest animal vender, triggered a path, and tried to run. That failed. I could walk at a brisk pace at best. Oh… okay. Maybe running was an advantage or a sign of aggression. Who knew? Again, I was regulated without a how or why. Merely restricted by having to accept the fact. The girls chuckled. Apparently, they had already encountered this lesson.
The sheer size of the market was overwhelming. This was my third time inside, with each time being just as amazing as the first. Aliens of all sorts meandered between booths. The traffic was not crowded; I felt it never could be with the numbers-per-portal limitation. The diversity of aliens was staggering: tentacles, wheels, feet, claws, nubs, and the list kept going. I even saw a gray blob that shifted to move. The passage space between booths was nice, also. The issue was how much distance this created to get from point A to B. After five minutes of speed walking, we arrived in front of a vendor who looked like a bear.
I recognized this species from the first day of the invasion. This bear humanoid had green fur with black and brown matted sections. A short snout led to blazing red eyes. Curved ears were defined by short white fur on the end caps. Large, bulky muscles were covered by a tan jerkin and pants. I willed his information to my mind.
Species: Scary Bear - Individual Name: TBD - Rating: 9
The planet’s identifier was gone. Maybe I had willed it away. There was another scary bear customer chatting with the vendor. They finished their conversation while we waited.
“How can I help you, humans? My name is Roarson,” Roarson said while extending a purchase list. I compared it quickly to ours and saw the map version from Winston had outdated information.
“Looking for farm animals. We live in the cold,” I said while gazing over the list. I looked for a fancy video or chart. My eyes found none, causing me to frown. “Are there examples of the animals on this list?”
“Oh, you are from that new human planet, Earth. I pay to be well informed. I sure hope I get your planet on one of our next four go-arounds. I heard you have undefended farms so vast the raiders struggled to house all the chickens they stole.”
My eyes lit up. “You know about chickens?”
“Yes, there are many poultry variations. Chickens are not your best winter bird. My tribe focuses on breeding livestock. We have large fields for animals to roam behind protected walls. Been at this for a few thousand years. If anyone knows poultry, it is Roarson.” A pawed hand slapped the jerking chest cover. His toothy smile was oddly welcoming. I could see the pride in his red eyes. “Price is always a sticking point. I have a set list price that is weighed in neilspar ore. I can get more if you order with enough time to get the animals to the Xgate in time.”
“Do you have a location you recommend to convert funds into this neilspar?”
“The bank of exchange is not far away. I see you have a map, so it should be easy to find. Neilspar is the go-to exchange ore. The closest thing we have to a physical currency in this place. The vendors talked about making it official, but then suddenly you have a spike in purchases and the currency becomes worth more than it should. There is an odd, random rotation. Neilspar is what I want today. Unless you have a rare ore from your home planet that is not seen often.”
I sent him our inventory list. He looked at me and tilted his head while patting his belly with a laugh. “These trees will die in the cold. Oh, the ghost already told you, based on your expressions. Yes, I have met and dealt with enough human slaves to know their expressions. I can offload them to a friend, if you want?”
“If we get value back out of them, then great. I would hate to see them die. How about the other items?”
“I would take rare metal yttrium at value. If I did that, you would save the conversion fee, which is ten percent,” Roarson said. His head twisted while he scratched his neck. He was thinking something over. “You have enough here to buy a lot of poultry. More than I am guessing your new stronghold has room for. Then again, with this wealth, maybe you have a massive base. This is one of the cases where I wish I was not so anti-trickery. Alas, it is what it is. You are a wealthy human.”
“Cap. My friends call me Cap.”
“Okay step in here, are these your mates?”
“They are. Come on, ladies,” I said as we stepped around the counter.
I had never used vendor transportation. The floor opened below us. The void of space whizzed by us as we shot from one orbital to a new one. A black ceiling parted to reveal a slight blue shimmer. We arrived inside a gray grid storage room.
The size of this one was so large it dwarfed our tiny storage area. Plastic poles shot electricity between each other in arcs of crackling power. There were at least a hundred animals penned in sections of these unique fences.
The diversity of the animals was insane. I saw a dodo bird. Roarson scoffed as we passed it by.
“Everything I sell will be able to handle winter. Some will require protein to sustain; do you want to avoid those animals?” Roarson asked.
We passed a dozen chickens that clucked at our presence. I saw variations of pigs, goats, and animals with heads under their bellies. I was stunned by that one, but not as much as the egg-laying spider pen; the thirty-foot snakes were actually not that much of a surprise. The thickly furred dino chickens were.
Roarson stopped at a pen with a few dozen of these ancient-looking creatures. They were small, not even going up to Perci’s knees. Little raptor heads and mammoth-type fur on a pig's body. There was no tail and they had elephant-type feet. They would have been adorable if not for the long, curved teeth.
“These are miracle workers. Our translation is failing so you will need to name them. They will eat a pound of meat and pop out two pounds of eggs over a week. They love the cold but obviously struggle in temperatures over”—the translator clicked and clacked—“seventy-two degrees. If you do get over that, put them somewhere cool. We keep ours in caves during summer. Then they are hauled to battlefields to gorge on the dead. They can and will eat enough to fatten up for a month in one sitting. Miracle workers, I tell you. Keep the kids away. If they fall over, they will get aggressive. That’s when the kids become targets of opportunity. Reproduction-wise, they lay eggs that we eat raw. Not too different than a chicken when young. They mature fast, so grab the egg
s within a day or two. Two-week incubation and then you are a breeder. You might be thinking, ‘too good to be true.’ Well, their meat is awful. If you run out of food for them, you become the food. Yup, these will have to be put down if you cannot feed them. Our human slaves will eat the meat but they—”
“What is the price of human slaves?” Nancy asked with a concerned tone.
“I have a great slave trader I can recommend you to. Won’t even swindle you, but his prices are high because of the fact he keeps his business straight. I do not sell slaves, lady human, you will need to ask the—” The translator paused. “You will need to name the vendor. I am sorry, I understand the sadness in your eyes. After our business, I will give you his location on your map,” Roarson said politely with a slight grumble. “We have chickens too, as you saw. What will vegetarian animals be primarily eating?”
I showed him a video of grassy fields and bushy forest underbrush. Roarson thought it over with a twist of his snout. Without a word, he led us to some bigger animals. His mini zoo certainly was impressive. We arrived at a thinly furred twelve-legged chunky animal. I had no reference to compare it to when trying to use an Earth animal. The body was square in design with more width than height. A mix of random large and small spikes adorned the back. A dozen eyes were on each end of the boxy creature. Four mouths scoured the pen floor for pine needles. Little trunks less than eight inches long scooped food into the molar-filled mouths.
“It has a penis snout!” Perci said with a giggle.
“Not a far-off translation of what we call them. Slongers are another staple of our society. Whereas the egg-laying meat eater back there will eat you if you run out of food, these guys will trumpet in complaint. We drink the milk. Their legs are so short we walk the boxy body up a platform. To us, and the humans we keep, the meat on these animals is a delicacy. They are gassy, so keep them with a cover that is not enclosed. The spines are poisonous so do not stab yourself. If you do, ingest lots of water with managed care. Between the milk and the meat, I normally sell out of these quickly. Today has been slow, though. Reproduction. Slongers need help mating. The male is drained and then dumped into the female. They are at that stage of reproduction: so genetically altered from their original form they cannot mate without help. Six-month gestation and then a procedure with an incision for removal.”
“Are they safe around young?”
“Will they attack anything? No. These animals, if they were smart enough, would be allowed by the alien powers to be. However, our young do climb on these and can injure the weak legs of the animals. Also, again, the spikes are more than a deterrent, so we tend to teach the young to leave them be. I have a full guide on the animals you are getting if you do purchase them.”
Nancy kneeled down and turned her head sideways. She was enthralled. I was sure the biologist in her was excited to learn more. She reached out and a small trunk sniffed her hand. A section of eyes drifted from her hand to her face. Nancy smiled from the interaction.
“We have only two horse trailers. These slongers will probably only be two per trip. We would have to ferry some home now… unless we can fit them in a truck bed,” I said, thinking out loud. We had a few open bed trailers and you could maybe fit one per truck bed. I used my arm span to judge the distance. “How much do they weigh?”
“About”—the translator struggled—“a thousand pounds. They are heavy, but that is why they are great. A lot of meat in a boxy frame.”
“Okay, I am not too worried about the ramoths over there. We can stuff them ten high, probably. They look durable. These guys are a different story. I will take all eight slongers, the herd of ramoths, the chickens, and I see those little ostriches. Those too.”
“The terror birds?”
“Uh… are those the ones you saw earlier, Perci?” I asked.
“I think so. Lay an egg once a day, omnivore, and easy to manage,” Perci said, pulling up the information she received from an earlier vendor.
“Those are terror birds; they will attack all these other animals. All that is true what you said, with the pretense they are your only animal. Well, you can electric fence them. We have some of these fences for sale too. Just know, if those terror birds escape, they will fight to the death with ramoths, kill the slongers with enough time, and turn your chickens into dinner.”
I pointed at a sleeping cat in the corner. It was the size of an elephant. “Why is that in here?”
“The ferox is a herding cat. Produces nothing directly. It will herd hundreds of slongers, for example, and pick off predators. They generally are purchased by overeager young warriors hoping to bond. Rarely works. If you are short on food, they are a terrible idea. I see your frown. I will be here next opening and the one after. That ferox has come to market over a hundred times.” Roarson smiled with his large canines. I nodded in defeat. The ferox opened a single eye, stretched, and walked over to the edge of the cage. “I would not—”
I held a hand out to stop him. I watched the cat the size of an elephant with fanatical glee. I love the idea of Felix the dog. This beast was something else, though. We stared at each other for at least a few minutes. I pulled up the price and gulped. Well, at least I had an excuse.
“Roarson, I agree to your prices on the slongers, ramoths, and the chickens. Are they Earth chickens?”
“No, like I said, I hope we get an Earth gate. I heard you have eighteen thousand Xgates.”
“Yes, we do. Mind you, we are not defenseless. I would not be so excited. I also saw some scary bears come onto Earth and eat missiles.”
“Ah, yes, there are always risks,” Roarson said with a big bear shrug. “The chances are low. The last count was over ten million Xgates installed universe-wide. Never know what you will get. I need you to confirm our contract; this is where you will get stolen from the most. Ensure the numbers match perfectly. An added zero cannot be undone.”
Our translators sparked. I jolted the data to Perci. “She is my numbers person. Can I get to my storage room from here?”
“Yes, take the left anti-gravity shot and then do not get off at the market. It will take you to the storage unit that is linked to your gate.”
Perci completed the paperwork, and in a flash the animals we purchased were moved. The trees we were stuck with arrived in the ramoth pen. We thanked Roarson and headed for Earth.
When I gazed at my feet I was yanked up. Okay, I should have seen that one coming. We transitioned into the market where we waited. A moment later our journey continued until we reached our storage room. A bout of sleepiness washed over me.
I was halted by the severity of the change in our storage area. The first problem was we now had over a thousand forks and spoons. I immediately thought of plastic bricks I could trade. Our rare metal bricks were stuffed on shelves to the point I gasped. The high-carbon pile had overflowed as well. Goldie was there, patiently waiting for me to talk.
“So, are we anywhere near our allowable transformation?”
“Not even close,” Goldie replied dryly.
Wow, it looked like we would be able to buy a lot of items. Perci tugged me to go outside instead of drooling over the supplies. By the time we stepped out onto the grassy fields, we had eighteen hours left and a clamoring of people wanting to go shopping.
CHAPTER 2
There were a lot of vehicles piled up around the gate. Even Isaac had a half-dozen trucks outside the southern golden portal. I checked my Gpad. Since the loot was easy to secure and restricted to residential homes, we had plucked clean most of our zone. There was one resounding idea that would have to wait until the next golden event. Denver.
I focused on the here and now. A table had been set up between our RVs, which were parked in a triangle. Citizens were going in and out of the gates to get translators. We had the majority of our personnel and vehicles staged outside our local Xgate, which we had named Xgate 232. I went to the center of the triangle and heard Torrez and Gary debating intensely. Eddy was the captain
of our Charlie Team. They quieted their conversation while both giving small waves as I passed. There were my team leaders sitting in a circle of chairs in the middle of our gathering zone.
Alpha Team leader Mclain was rocking in a chair I intended to trade away. My second-in-command, Jevon, was rocking his girlfriend Becca in the chair Winston delivered to be specially made. My eyes went wide and I ran to get him up.
“Jevon, that is vital to trade. Notice how it is built for someone bigger than us by a few feet. It is important nothing happens to that. Actually, let us load it up in this truck bed,” I said urgently. He huffed but helped two people carry it.
I saw Miguel Torrez and Felix Delcroy find a section to sit. They were our supply leaders. Dedric was beside them; he was the Tango Team leader who handled our transportation. Delta Team leader was Nancy, who was addressing her team. I saw Slister rounding up Bravo Team. Most of our leadership, if not all of it, was here for this part. Great. Bonnet was sleeping at the base for a night guard shift and Mitchell was on the wall.
“Listen up!” I shouted.
The crowd quieted and the five-hundred-plus gathered people started to pool around to hear me talk. This was a defining moment for our community. We had busted our butts since the aliens arrived and now we could turn that hard work into something nice.
“I purchased animals. Not a whole lot, but enough to eat fresh eggs on rotation and hopefully drink delicious milk. One of them will even eat that nasty gargoyle meat for us and produce twice as much egg mass!” I said to a round of applause.
“Okay, we have rare minerals in digital devices of old. Perfect. That has given us a surplus of spending power. So, what else do we buy besides toilet paper—yes, that item is on the list. I want to cover something controversial first. Prisoners. We call them prisoners, the vendors call them slaves. We are not entering the prisoner market today. I see no justification in spending our resources to free others. I know, savage—however, hear me out. We will. I promise we will stand up and do the right thing down the road. With that said, if I do not put the needs of the community before the needs of those less fortunate, we could fail. If we fail, we help no one. For the community,” I said almost in a prayer tone.