“Sorry. Nettie and Lizzie are both here with me. We’re all on speaker.”
Poly and I quickly went through the standard “Hi Nettie” and “Hi Lizzie” rituals.
“We’ve got a problem,” said A.J.
He seemed reluctant to go on.
“Spit it out, A.J.,” I said. “What happened?”
Nettie’s voice came over my phone’s speaker instead of A.J.’s.
“We’ve looked everywhere, but our parents and George seem to be missing.”
“You’re sure you didn’t just mislay them somewhere,” said Poly.
I didn’t think this was the right time for that sort of joke, but Nettie was her friend and I wasn’t going to second guess their relationship. Everyone reacts to stress differently and I was learning something important about Poly.
“Cut the crap, Pol. This is serious,” Nettie replied.
“Right,” said Poly. “The Queen of Dauush and her consort and bodyguard have also disappeared.”
“And Spike!” wailed Terrhi.
“Who’s that yelling?” asked Nettie.
“Terrhi, the Princess of Dauush,” I said. “She’s really worried, too.”
Then the doorbell rang in a pleasant Westminster Chimes pattern. I wondered why Terrhi had knocked instead of just using the bell? She was probably too distraught at the time. I crossed to the door and looked through the peep hole. A wolf-like, bear-like eye stared back.
“Open the door, Jack,” said a gravelly blues singer voice that I recognized immediately. “I have important news.”
I opened the door.
“Shepherd?” I said. “When did you get to Vegas?”
“Before you did,” said the secretive Long Pâkk intelligence agent. “Are the Obi-Yu siblings on the phone?”
“Yes,” said A.J. “Who are you?”
“Someone you need to meet,” said Shepherd. “Come to the penthouse suite of the three-sided tower at the Grand Pyridian immediately. We need to talk.”
The Obi-Yu second generation spluttered into their phone but I encouraged them to come over as fast as possible if they wanted answers. After a few half-hearted protests, they agreed.
“By the way,” said Shepherd before they’d hung up, “Roger Joe-Bob Bacon is also missing.”
That was bad news. I really liked the down-to-earth Pyr billionaire.
“See you in fifteen,” said Nettie, ending the call with the finality of a descending guillotine blade.
This wasn’t good.
In the words of Ian Fleming, “Once is chance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.”
We had a shared enemy who was three steps ahead of us.
Chapter 16
“I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke
Shepherd took a moment to glance around and noticed the trail of clothing leading from the front door to the suite’s largest bedroom. He sniffed the air, using scent to confirm what his eyes told him had been happening a few minutes earlier.
“Terrhi,” said Shepherd, with a wink for Poly and me, “have you noticed the beautiful stonework in the main fireplace?”
Terrhi and Shepherd walked over to inspect the fireplace together, while Poly and I frantically picked up what we’d been wearing earlier in the evening and packed it away out of sight. While we were alone, Poly and I shared a quick hug and our mutual frustration with the cruelty of Murphy and his blasted law. That would have to be enough for now.
When we left the bedroom, I nodded to Shepherd, thanking him for his help. Terrhi was a precocious child, and would have enjoyed teasing Poly and me once she was back to her normal self, but I didn’t need the extra embarrassment and Poly’s college friends wouldn’t have been nearly as restrained in their teasing.
“You may want to make more tea,” said Shepherd over his shoulder, as he was pointing out the grain and composition of the natural stone he and Terrhi were admiring. Different colored stones were arranged in a swirling pattern that looked like smoke and sparks ascending toward the ceiling. Terrhi was fascinated and distracted. I was grateful Shepherd was helping my not-so-little friend cope with what happened. He’d known Terrhi a lot longer than I had, after all. Perhaps he was Uncle Shepherd? I didn’t know.
“I’ll start the tea, you get the door,” said Poly.
“Wha…?” I said. Then the doorbell rang. “How…?”
“I could hear footsteps walking from the elevator to the door.”
“Oh.”
Poly doesn’t miss much. My brain had been going at twelve parsecs an hour trying to figure out scenarios to explain what might have happened to all the people who had disappeared. With both my brain and my libido distracted, I missed a lot.
I went over to the door and looked out the peep hole. A brown eye was looking back—the Obi-Yu siblings had arrived. I opened the door, ready to see the trio, but was surprised to learn my attempted identification was incorrect.
“Jack!” said Martin Lee, looking dapper in a black suit and black silk dress shirt. “How’s Terrhi doing?”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, sounding more put out than I’d intended. “I thought you were in Atlanta?”
“Come in, Martin,” said Poly from the kitchen, covering for my faux pas. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too, Poly.”
Martin surprised me again by giving me a hug that felt solid and somehow made me feel more together. I returned the hug to let Martin know that I’d just been off balance earlier. I really was glad to see him. Terrhi and Shepherd left the fireplace and walked to the front hall to greet our most recent arrival. Shepherd nodded at him and received a nod in return in that mysterious manner of law enforcement and military types acknowledging each other’s competence and authority. Terrhi’s piping voice responded to Martin’s original question.
“I’m doing okay now,” she said, “but I really want to find my mom and dad and Uncle Diágo and Spike.”
“We all do,” said Martin. “Stay brave—for Spike.”
I could see Terrhi’s posture improve in response.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“That’s a rather existential question,” said Martin. “How long do you have?”
“No,” I said, smiling at his deflection. “Why are you in Vegas?”
“That’s easy. Shepherd invited me out to go fishing at Lake Meade.”
Poly laughed in the kitchen. “That’s a good one,” she said. “When was the last time you went fishing?”
“I might have been eleven,” admitted Martin.
I turned to Shepherd. “How about you? When was the last time you went fishing?”
The alien looked thoughtful, as if he was remembering an adventure from his youth. After a moment, he spoke.
“Never. On Pâkk planets, the fish hunt you.”
I shook my head from side to side, wondering if this was true or just a myth to perpetuate some sort of Pâkk mystique. Right now, I had more important things to worry about.
“You suspected something and thought we’d need help?”
The Long Pâkk spy nodded. It wasn’t the same kind of nod he’d given Martin, but I’d take it.
“Thanks.”
Then something small and fast buzzed around my head. I didn’t know what kind of flying pests they had in Las Vegas, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of them, so I swatted at the thing and tried to keep it away from me. Whatever it was landed on the edge of the kitchen island. Before I could look for something appropriate to swat it, I was surprised yet again.
“Hey, watch it with the hands, hotshot!” said a familiar voice.
“Chit!”
“Yo
u were expecting Jiminy Cricket?”
“I’m glad to see you,” I said. “Did you travel with Martin?”
“No, Sherlock,” said my little friend. “I hitchhiked.” She paused. “Of course I traveled with Martin.”
“Did you come out to go fishing at Lake Meade, too?” I asked.
“No way, bozo. I’m here to hit the casinos.”
“I thought you were done with that after we shut down our place on Orish.”
“You thought wrong,” said Chit, gleefully. “I’ve got a system.”
I took a closer look at my oldest friend. Her wing cases were painted black and red with seven showing on a pair of white dice.
“Going to hit the craps tables?”
“How’d ya guess, chump?”
“Aren’t you a little small to throw full-sized dice?”
“Not in the Musan casinos…”
Musans were a GaFTA member species the size of Terran mice.
“But they only play for small stakes,” I joked.
“Yeah, ya gotta point there, bucko,” said Chit. “Maybe I can keep you and Poly out of trouble from time to time, too.”
“Thanks for coming, Chit. I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I,” said Poly.
“Me, too,” piped Terrhi.
“The dining room table only has room for six, and there will be eight of us, so we’ll have to sit in the living room,” I noted.
“Nine,” said Chit. “What am I, gefilte fish?”
“You don’t need a human-sized chair,” said Poly.
“Neither do I,” said Terrhi. “I’ll stand.”
“Hey, buddy boy,” said Chit. “Answer the door.”
I didn’t even bother asking how she knew, but she told me anyway.
“I saw the Obi-Yu’s limo pull up when we walked into the hotel.”
“Right,” I said.
The doorbell chimed before I could get there and I saw another brown eye looking back from the peep hole.
“Come on in,” I said, opening the door for the siblings. “The rest of us are here already.”
“I told you to hurry, A.J.,” said Nettie.
“I needed to get something for Jack and Poly,” said her brother.
“We’re here now,” said Lizzie.
Poly introduced the new arrivals to Shepherd, Terrhi, Martin and Chit, who was the first Murm any of them had encountered.
“You’re in for a treat, then,” said Chit. “Murms are a unique species.”
“Thank goodness for that,” teased Poly.
“Hey!” Chit protested. “Got any borsum nuts?”
I found a can of them by the bar and brought the can and an Old Fashioned glass I overturned on the inlaid coffee table in the living room. Chit grabbed a nut and promptly claimed the glass to use as a perch.
We had more than enough seats. There was a sectional sofa large enough to sleep a family of six and four comfortable chairs that could be arranged for separate, intimate conversations or turned to facilitate a single large discussion. Martin started playing with a remote control unit that adjusted the lighting and lowered a seventy-inch video screen from the ceiling in front of the fireplace.
I helped Poly carry over the tea and assorted fine china cups, putting them on the coffee table. Poly poured and I delivered cups and saucers to everybody. Chit got a thimble of scotch and alternated between nibbling on a borsum nut and sipping the high proof alcohol. The rest of us—even A.J.—stuck with tea.
I had just settled into my seat on the sectional sofa next to Poly when Shepherd said, “Get the door, please, Jack.”
“There’s someone else?” I’d thought everyone—more than everyone—was already accounted for.
The doorbell chimed. I surrendered to the inevitable and got up to answer.
Chit answered my unspoken thought.
“He just got a text from somebody, Jack. Shepherd can’t predict the future.”
“Shhhhh!” said Shepherd, one corner of his mouth crooked up. “He doesn’t need to know that.”
I looked out the peephole and didn’t see anything. Then the door chimes sounded again.
“Are the neighbor kids causing trouble again?” teased Poly.
“I don’t think so,” I said, “but it looks like nobody’s there.”
“Open the door, please,” said Shepherd. “I’m expecting someone.”
I did as I was instructed.
“Hi Jack,” said Mimi, Roger Joe-Bob Bacon’s four-sided Pyr pilot girlfriend. “Can you help me get my Honey Bear back?”
Honey Bear?
“We’ll do our best,” I said. “Come on in and find a seat.”
“Would you like some tea?” asked Poly.
“That would be swell,” said Mimi, as she glided into the living room without her typical enthusiastic bounce. She found a spot by the fireplace next to Terrhi and settled in place. Pyrs don’t have much need for chairs. I resumed my seat next to Poly.
“Okay,” I said to Shepherd. “It’s your show.”
The grizzled Pâkk stood up and began to speak in his gravelly, gravitas-filled voice.
“The problem is worse than any of you think.”
I sat farther back in my chair and looked at Poly. I thought things were pretty bad now.
“The senior officers—CEOs, chairmen, COOs, and galactic equivalent titles—from over five hundred of the largest and most prestigious high tech companies attending GALTEX are missing.”
Somebody whistled, most likely Martin, though it could have been Chit.
“Are we sure foul play is involved? Could they just be having a secret meeting to hammer out spheres of influence or something?” asked Poly.
“That’s unlikely,” said Shepherd. “Considering that they’re more than halfway to that point already without any need for massive secret negotiations.”
“You’ve got a point,” I said.
“Are Scott Winfield and Josephine Johnson from Chapultepec & Castle missing?” asked Lizzie.
“They are,” said Shepherd.
Lizzie looked disappointed.
“What’s your theory?” I asked.
Shepherd cleared his throat.
“Let’s review what’s happened during the last few months. First, Anthony Zwilniki kidnapped the Princess of Dauush to support a Terran invasion of her planet.”
Terrhi smiled and waved one of her sub-trunks at us in a “that’s me” gesture.
“Second, six weeks later, Columbia Brown and Agnes Spelman, of Factor-E-Flor and O’Sullivan Engineering, try to use an ancient Pâkk-Tigrammath War plague to coerce the Dauushans to support their plans for conquest—and also try to kidnap the Queen of Dauush.”
“That’s my mom!” said Terrhi.
“Third,” said Shepherd, undisturbed by Terrhi’s interruptions, “some organization has arranged to kidnap the Queen of Dauush, her consort, her bodyguard…”
“Her daughter’s pet,” said Terrhi.
“…and hundreds of senior executives from the top galactic high tech companies.”
Shepherd paused.
“Does anybody see a pattern here?”
“Kidnapping seems to be their primary modus operandi,” said Martin.
“But they don’t seem to be very good at it,” interjected Mimi.
The rest of us all looked at the little female Pyr.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I wasn’t around for anything that went down, but Roger Joe-Bob dug into Jack’s background after he first met you,” said Mimi. “From what I could tell from my Honey Bear’s files, Zwilniki was an amateur Caesar. His mercenary army, if you can call it that, was a total pushover. The
kidnapping attempt he orchestrated was easily foiled and Terrhi was retrieved unharmed.”
“Hey,” I said, “Rescuing Terrhi was far from easy.”
“Maybe for you,” said Mimi, “but I was in an elite Special Ops group back home on Pyr called the Victories. We would have rescued the girl, captured Zwilniki, and taken out the mercenary army without any of the chaos you and your people required.”
Who was this woman? I could see what Roger Joe-Bob saw in her, but her current persona was far from the friendly, bantering aviatrix I’d met when I’d boarded Horus One. Now I had an idea about why his plane’s nickname was Screaming Mimi.
“The first kidnapping itself was more of a publicity stunt than an abduction. I mean, holding it during the First Contact Day parade with all those witnesses? It was all about Zwilniki’s ego, not about pulling off a successful kidnapping.”
Zwilniki did have plenty of ego, no doubt about that, but how did Mimi’s comments help us find a solution to our current problem?
“Talk is cheap,” I said, “and all your expertise didn’t prevent Roger Joe-Bob’s abduction. What’s your theory on the disappearances, Miss Smarty Pants?” I only added the “Miss Smarty Pants” in my head, but I thought it really loud. Just as well—it wasn’t an effective insult, since pyramid-shaped Pyrs don’t have legs and don’t wear pants.
“I think the opposition has changed tactics,” stated Mimi.
“But they’re still kidnapping people,” said Nettie, inserting herself into the discussion for the first time.
“Yes, but to what end?” asked Shepherd, quietly. He had resumed his chair while Mimi was talking.
“We all know that Dauush, with its massive fabrication infrastructure, could produce a near infinite amount of military equipment—starships, weapons, ammunition, armor, supplies, you name it. The last two tries the black hats wanted Dauush, one assumes as a first step in conquering the galaxy.”
Xenotech What Happens: A Novel of the Galactic Free Trade Association (Xenotech Support Book 3) Page 13