"Never heard of him," Fleek replied.
"But we have evidence and we're here to arrest you," Gruff guy shot back, giving a head tilt to his minions to jump into action and handcuff him already. They surrounded Fleek.
"What evidence? I'm already famous. Why would I need to be a hacker too?" Fleek asked.
The minions around him halted their advance.
"I don't know," gruff guy said. "Money?"
"My dad's rich."
"If it wasn't the money, then you probably did it for the fame, right?" one of the cops offered.
"We already covered that. I just signed an autograph for your daughter."
"Oh yeah. Well, it doesn't matter why, does it? We have a job to do."
And with that, they handcuffed Fleek and led him away. "Hey, don't I get a phone call? And is this arrest being live-streamed for the media? At least I'll make the news, right?"
"Oh yeah," gruff guy said. "You're going to be all over the news tonight."
9
Floyd sat at his computer. He frowned and watched a news clip of the morning's Overlord Overview Update. Ugh, that's a horrible name for a morning update. Of course, Floyd was dead last in the current standings. It was starting to bother him that he was getting so little respect and yet he didn't want to reveal his true species. Not yet.
"I haven't even gotten started yet," Floyd objected. The local news scroll at the bottom of the screen caught his eye. It said: Outbreak of both amnesia and petty theft in city. Wow, he thought, that sounds like a bad television show. Wait, that sounds like my television show, All my Wormholes. He was using his considerable brainwashing ability along with codewords carefully worked into the script to control the viewers who watched.
"Idiots." The writers had obviously been tinkering with the dialogue while he wasn't looking. Now he had to go fix it. He massaged his temples with his hand. That wonderful sensation was one of the only advantages to being human, in his mind. He prepared to head to the studio and undo the damage the writers had wrought on the city unwittingly when his secretary rang in. Not now, he thought.
"You have a walk-in appointment, sir." She sounded overly excited about the prospect. "And she's a celebrity! You'll never believe who it is."
Finally, his morning was looking up. "No, wait. Don't tell me," he said hurriedly, "let me be surprised."
The door flew open and before him did, in fact, stand a very familiar and very famous face. The very last one he expected, as it turned out.
"Surprise," said Kirian, Destroyer of Planets, as she entered his office.
"Kirian," he said, trying to mask being caught off guard. "Nice to see you again." Smooth. "I do have to say, you look way better in person."
She looked very cool indeed. She was tall and pretty and had dramatic black hair with bioluminescent tips that glowed dramatically. She also had an athletic build with a black leather jacket and a tight tee underneath.
"But that's probably because you look awful on television," he lied. "And I'm saying this as a professional. I'm a tv producer, you know. But the fact is, the camera doesn't like you, and neither do I."
She smiled at him and paced, somehow ignoring the television remark. "Don't worry, I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to kill you, Floyd. Because of what you did to me."
"Sure, sure," Floyd countered. "If I had ten Galactic Credits for every time I've heard that line. You brainwash people a tiny bit and they get all ragey."
A knife flew at his head, but he was easily able to dodge it. It stuck fast in the wall behind him. She wasn't trying to kill him, yet. Just get his attention.
"Kirian, let's talk about this." He concentrated until his eyes turned their glowing green, using his maximum mind control powers on her.
Kirian laughed and threw on some very cool shades. "Do I look like I'm new to this?"
Blast, Floyd thought. If he couldn't win through mind control, he'd probably have to change form. Kirian wasn't someone to be trifled with in battle.
On cue, Kirian pulled a long sword out of somewhere in her clothes. Where was she putting all these weapons, anyway? And what was wrong with security in this building? He was still thinking about the action form he was going to file with the building management when Kirian charged. It was all he could do to jump out of the way in time. Of course, then he had no choice but to change form.
He flickered for a moment, a fact that he knew because his office was lined with mirrors, and then he was transformed. Now he was Mantix, a terrifying, killer, Preying Mantis. In his real form he wasn't officially allowed in this galaxy, but in his defense, most of these people were really stupid.
Now ten feet tall and bumping his head on the ceiling, he waited for Kirian to dart away from him in terror. His prey was always easier to catch when running away.
There was a knock. It was his secretary.
"Are you okay in there? I heard some bumping and yelling," she said.
"All good," he responded, keeping his eye on his prey. "Kirian and I were just catching up."
Any time, now, he thought. Go ahead, Kirian. Look frightened and dart for the door. Except that she didn't. She paced back and forth smiling, and then when she saw his bewilderment, she charged again.
This was, of course, the last thing that he expected. It had never happened before. His prey never, ever fought back. He tried to dodge again, the way he had done when he was still human, on instinct, but now he was too big. He felt her sword cut into the right side of his thorax.
He looked down, and green blood started oozing out of his side. Having wounded him, she retreated quickly across the room and regrouped.
Vibrating with rage for the first time on this planet, he pounced in her direction. His aim wasn't as accurate if his prey wasn't darting away from him. She was able to get out of the way at the last minute, mostly, but his pincers had drawn blood.
Kirian screamed, and then knelt, holding her sword up at him, daring him to try another frontal assault. Her leg was sliced and bleeding through her jeans on her right thigh. Ha, he thought, we're even.
Kirian's phone rang in her pocket. She ignored it, pacing back and forth in front of him and bleeding and waiting to see what would happen next. Floyd knew he was bleeding too, and he was doing his best to ignore it like Kirian was.
As much as he wanted her to, though, she wouldn't dart away. Only forward, or side to side in uneven pacing movements. And that made it hard for him, because if he misjudged another attack he risked his secretary hearing it and blowing his cover. Delicious humans were a dime a dozen, but a good secretary? They were worth their weight in gold in this stupid galaxy.
Kirian's phone rang again. She stopped pacing. Much to his surprise, she answered it with one hand, extending the sword at him with the other. "What is it, Fleek? I'm busy." Whatever he said next, she looked surprised. "Well, what about your band? Did you call them? Your superfans? Ari?" She scowled. "But I'm in the middle of a battle, Fleek. With Mantix." She started pacing again, keeping the sword pointed at him. "Fleek, he's bleeding. Well, yes, I'm bleeding too. Since when does that matter? Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes."
She placed the phone back in her leather jacket pocket. "Fine, you live. For now. I have to go help a friend." She replaced the sword back in her clothes in a flash and threw open the door before Floyd could even object.
"You'd better run," he called after her.
He heard his secretary point out that Kirian was bleeding and asked what had happened.
"Cut myself shaving," Kirian said. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon."
"Ok," Rachel called out sweetly. "See you then, thanks for the autograph!"
10
The Galactic Library was one of the most impressive buildings on Arcturis. Soda went through the large glass doors that opened automatically as she entered and made her way straight to the front desk.
"Finally," the librarian said, looking down at her sternly, "you're late."
Soda calmly looked around and
behind her to see which poor sucker she was yelling at, but nobody was there. "I'm sorry," she said, "are you talking to me?" The librarian had at least five arms, which didn't make sense to Soda unless one of them was out of sight or maybe doing something else. She was also red and tall and skinny except for a very blue shock of hair bun on top of her head.
"Yes, Soda, I'm talking to you. Every other candidate has been in and out of here already."
"Look here," Soda said, reaching a tentacle across to her scrawny throat, "you can address me as Ex-Neon Octopus Overlord, thank you very much, or you will be known as the idiot formerly known as the Galactic Librarian. Got it?"
The librarian's face was purple now, which horribly did not match the rest of her body and Soda realized that she couldn't answer. She released her. The librarian fell to the ground in a heap. Soda waited patiently for a moment or two. "I said, got it?" she repeated, fearing that the woman had forgotten the question.
"Got it," the woman said hoarsely.
"Blast," Soda muttered, "I'm out of power only a few months and all of these idiots think they can just walk all over me. Now, where was I?"
"You need the Anti-Parliamentary Documents, I presume," the Librarian said.
"Oh yes, the documents. And what exactly do you mean by every other candidate?"
"Floyd, Ray, Froggy, you."
"Froggy was here already?"
"He was first. Before he put his name in, actually."
"Hmmmm," Soda said. "And you've been here a long time, I presume?"
"Eons," the Librarian replied.
"Well, what do you think?" Soda asked her.
"About what?"
"About all of us candidates. You must have seen all of this come and go before, so what do you think?"
"Well," she said, "this has never happened before."
Soda threw a tentacle on the desk in exasperation. "Sure, you haven't seen this Anti-Parliamentary thing, technically, happen before. But you've seen everything else. Ad nauseum, right? I'm asking your opinion."
The Librarian stared at her wide eyed. "Nobody's ever asked for my opinion before."
"Of course," Soda said, commiserating. "They just come in here demanding the documents, insult you, and leave. Am I right?"
"Except for you. You tried to kill me."
11
Ari slumped into the chair after watching Mr. Roghwell leave. How could it all have gone so wrong? At least the scanner had worked as planned, it just didn't catch an actual bad guy. I guess it's back to the drawing board. Her cell buzzed. It was Harry. He wanted to have lunch. Oh boy.
"Boss?" It was Chip.
Ari looked up at him. She must have been in her own world, because by the look on his face, Chip had been trying to get her attention. "Yes?"
"What do we do now?"
"Well, you can head back to the lab or lunch or whatever you need to do for now, but the sensors are going to have to be recalibrated. And I have to go have lunch with Harry."
Chip grinned up at her. "Rough life."
Ari sighed and shook her head. "Lunch with the boss right after a major screwup isn't the perk that you think it is."
He got up. "In that case, I'm outta here."
Ari headed to Chez Vrais, one of the eight world class restaurants inside the hotel. It was a short walk, and approximately three minutes later she was in a beautiful replica of the Bordeaux area of France. She pulled out her cellphone and checked her messages. There were missed calls from Fleek and Kirian. Uh-oh. There was no time to call them back, though, as she had arrived at the restaurant. The hostess saw her coming and accompanied her to a quiet table in the back where Harry was already waiting.
"Sorry, Harry," Ari said as she sat down and scooted her chair in.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah, the whole false alarm thing. It happens, kid."
She searched his face for anger, but it wasn't there. Either it wasn't his style, he wasn't angry, or there was something else going on. She couldn't help but feel that she didn't have a handle on anything that was going on lately. "You're not mad? That guy is a major whale."
"Yeah," Harry said, attracting the waitress's attention with just a wave of his hand, "but he doesn't come here that often. And besides, he's not mad. And nobody bats a thousand percent, not even you, Ari."
Ari blinked. She was sort of used to getting things right. And she had been on a roll lately. With the galaxy and people's lives on the line, she had managed to save Kirian and bring Soda down. That last part had mixed results afterward, but she counted it as a victory just the same.
The waitress arrived and the two of them ordered.
"I'm sure we're not here having a delicious and expensive comped lunch for you to tell me that I'm not perfect," Ari said.
Harry laughed. "Exactly. I never said you weren't smart. I do need your help with something. And it has nothing to do with the Vega Security Command Center."
"What is it?"
Harry slid his phone over to her. "Hit play on that video."
Ari had to admit, she was intrigued. She picked up the phone and hit play. It appeared to be a casino security video of a guy counting cards. She glanced at it and then looked up at Harry. "What's this? Is this your way of demoting me back to casino security?"
Harry laughed again. There was something comforting about the smile lines around his eyes. She trusted him, even though he was the head of an extensive Galactic crime organization. Life was a funny thing.
"Nope. Look closer," he said.
Ari looked down at the phone again and hit play again. Then she sighed. It was Drexyl. Drexyl was here, in the casino, cheating at poker.
"I thought so," Harry said, observing her reaction. "You know him, don't you?"
"Yes," said Ari. "I know him. I'll take care of it."
"Oh, and it gets funnier. Check out his little friend in the background."
Ari was almost afraid to look now, but she scanned the background of the security footage. "Carpe?" She looked up at Harry and shook her head. "That's not even a very good disguise, is it?"
"No, it's not. And we need to deal with it now."
Ari held up her hands. "Okay, Harry. I can fix this, and I know today's not the best day for it, but I'd like to ask a favor."
"What's that?"
"For star's sake, give Carpe his job back. He's a good guy, and the guaranteed best way to keep him out of trouble is to keep him busy."
Harry pondered it. "Okay. But he's on a one-strike-and-you're-out probationary status."
"Thanks, Harry."
"Oh yeah," he said with a smirk. "That's a yes, but with one condition."
12
Kirian arrived at the Arcturis Galactic Police Federation Station. The building was gigantic. The slimy green paint color, the bars on the windows, and everything about its architecture suggested that it had been specifically designed to keep people who happened to walk by from coming in. She squinted at the very top of the building at actual gargoyles. Creepy. Further down the building, various weapons sculptures were carved into the building, all pointing out at the public.
And now that she stood right in front of the doors, Kirian could see that there were metal spikes sticking out of them. She frowned and wondered what the purpose of any of this could be. Maybe it would work to scare away the tourists and the thrill seekers, but she was neither, and so she threw open the abnormally heavy front door, carefully avoiding the spikes, and went in.
She made her way to the front desk, past crowds of people sitting in cheap metal chairs or talking on cellphones. Luckily, as standard procedure for leaving Fleek's ship, she had grabbed several of the extra debit cards that had been filled with his old hacker money. Whatever funds he needed for bail, she probably had it covered. I mean, she had just left him on the ship yesterday. How much trouble could he possibly have gotten into?
The clerk at the front desk was behind clear bulletproof glass. The kind that had airholes in it so that she could hear, barely,
whoever was on the other side. The clerk looked up at Kirian. "State your purpose."
"I'm here to see Fleek."
"What's a Fleek?" The clerk sat back and crossed her arms.
"He called. You have him here. You know, Fleek. Lead Singer of Chemical Zombies? He's a celebrity, I'm sure you've heard of him. Anyway, I'm here to bail him out."
"We don't have anybody here by that name."
Kirian froze. Had they arrested him under his old name? She didn’t even remember what his old name was. She did know that if it ever did come up again that it was bad.
"Look," Kirian said. "Fleek. Tall, skinny guy," she held up a hand to indicate approximately how tall he was, "he's an ironic musician with a color-changing mohawk. Honestly, you can't miss him. He's super famous."
"I hate music," the clerk replied. "And I don't have any idea who you're talking about."
"He'd have made a splash, here,” Kirian persisted. “Believe me. Everybody would have been mobbing him and telling him how cool he was and asking for his autograph. It would have been a circus. Has anybody come in here with that kind of attention?"
"Oh him," the clerk said, raising her eyebrows at Kirian. "Are you trying to tell me that you're here to see Fractal?"
Kirian swallowed. If Fleek's past had really caught up to him, then this was going to be worse than she thought. The big question in her mind now was why he had used his one phone call to call her instead of his dad. His dad was the richest, most politically connected lawyer in town. "Yes, in that case I'm here to bail out Fractal."
"You must be very rich," the clerk said, looking Kirian up and down. "The bail is set at 2,821,288."
"Galactic Credits? That's an insane amount. And why in stars name would the bail amount be so specific and gigantic?"
"Do I look like I'm in charge?" the clerk asked. "That's what it says. I take it you don't have that amount of money in your pocket?"
Overlord Brawl: Book 1 of the Neon Octopus Ally Series Page 5