by T. R. Harris
He looked at the short purple bug. “Are you undamaged?”
“Yes, I am quite well. I have my Humans friends to thank for that.”
Kinness shook his head. “They placed you in an indefensible location. You should have come to us sooner. We could have placed you in a bunker.”
“How can I do my job from the confines of a bunker, Mon President? Eventually I will have to journey to the conference and engage in meetings. That is why I am here.”
“Then we will provide escort.” He looked at Lefty. “I understand your Human mercenaries are now few in number. What will you do to replace them, Mon Rodriquez?”
“We’ll manage.”
Kinness continued to shake his head. “Silly names, these Humans have. In any event, I will not allow a visiting dignitary to be assassinated, not while I am President of the Union.”
He turned to me. “Mon King, you seem to have a propensity for involving yourself in affairs of state. I would appreciate it if you do not spread details of these recent events, at least not until the conference concludes. The Third-Quadrant is the largest single addition ever made to the Union at one time. It is of major importance to the Union and to the galaxy as a whole. Please do not interfere with the proceedings.”
“Me, interfere?” I could feel my face turning red. “Let me remind you, Mon President, it was my house that just got blown to bits. I didn’t start this, but now I’m curious in finding out who did. Aren’t your people going to investigate?”
“Of course we will, as will the Annoc-Conn. Yet you are a civilian. You have no authority to investigate or to be a part of any such inquiry. However, if you wish, we will inform you of any findings at the conclusion of the investigation.”
I turned to Lefty. “Mister Rodriquez, I understand you may be hiring. Looks like some positions just opened up on your team.”
Lefty gave me a sad smile. “Relax, buddy. Normally I’d jump at the chance, but I need men dedicated to protecting the president, not out for revenge.”
I couldn’t believe it. Lefty wasn’t going to make me part of his team! The red glow of my face and the firm set of my jaw must have made an impression on him, because he quickly amended his statement.
“Don’t get me wrong, Jason, you can certainly come on as an advisor. You know Sylox better than I do. But I can’t have you risking your life to protect Enic, not like the rest of us. I wouldn’t feel right if something happened to you, at least anything more….”
I turned to Kinness. “Looks like I now have the authority to be part of the investigation.”
The Union president turned to Enic. “Are you approving of this?”
“I sense some animosity between you and Mon King, yet I find him to be delightful. I would welcome his addition to my security team.”
“What about your home and land business?” Kinness asked me.
“Quint can handle things, he usually does—”
“Yes, when you engage in one of your all too-frequent and quasi-legal escapades.”
I bit my bottom lip. Kinness was beginning to irritate me. “Look, the same people who are out to assassinate the president are the same ones who destroyed my home. We may approach the problem from different perspectives, but if they’re found and stopped, then the end result benefits everyone.”
Kinness waved his short kangaroo arms. “I capitulate. Enic, do as you please, but I must warn you, Jason King is not what he appears to be.”
“That is what I am counting on.”
I smiled up at Kinness, flashing two full rows of pearly white teeth. He always hated when I did that. To Zorphin, toothy smiles were a threat, something harkening back to pre-historic days. In a way, it was a threat.
Stay out of my way…or suffer the consequences, be you Union president or not.
Chapter 7
I took a room at the Sylox City Marriott; that’s right, even hospitality companies were moving in and setting up shop on the planet, as well as throughout the rest of the Union. They catered to the Human population, as well as those aliens built most like us. Truly exotic types had their own places. Out of curiosity, I’d been in a couple of them, and I tell I left with more questions than answers. Some rooms had leather straps hanging from the ceiling and smelly holes in the floor. Hey…whatever works, right?
Since all three of my cars had been destroyed in the attack, I got a rental the next day and drove out to the remains of my house. There wasn’t much left. After the two missiles hit, there was enough residual fire to consume most of what wasn’t initially blown apart.
A couple of Zorphin investigators were on the scene, and after showing my ID, I was allowed to sift through the debris. If there was a silver-lining to the whole affair, it’s that I’d only moved in two months ago and hadn’t had a chance to establish a bond with the property. Besides, in my line of work houses are commodities; I seldom became attached to them. Also, most of my business records and other truly important papers were at my office. I did manage to find the wall safe, and in a testament to the manufacturer, it survived, although the wall that had held it was just a smelly, smoky pile of soggy ash and soot.
I knelt down and fingered the combination to the safe. Inside were my insurance papers, along with fifty grand in Union currency. That would come in handy—hell, every dime would from here on out.
In the cool of the morning, as my clothes took on the stench of burning dreams, I read through my homeowner’s policy. In all my years of doing real estate, I couldn’t recall ever reading one all the way through. It was just one of those official documents you couldn’t change even if you wanted to. But there it was, plain as day: No replacement coverage for deliberate acts of destruction, such as arson, terrorism or war. Only natural disasters and accidents were covered. My mortgage would be paid, but that was it.
The furniture was rented, so that was no great loss. Since it was far too expensive to ship bulky pieces in from Earth, most builders factored in basic furnishings in the price of the home, if needed. This didn’t include kitchenware, towels, linens and the like. Add to that, all my clothes were gone, as well as a lot of personal items that I’d accumulated over the years, souvenirs from the dozen or so worlds I’d visited.
I’d sold my other home and put a hefty four million down on the new one. That, too, was gone.
Now it became imperative that Enic Jor survive, at least long enough to make good on his promise to rebuild my house.
There was still a considerable amount of lingering smoke rising up from the debris, so when I saw the figure standing before me, I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or the real thing. I stood, reached out a hand, and pinched her cheek.
“Ow!” the woman cried out, placing a gloved hand against her face and frowning. “Is that how you greet someone where you come from?”
I blinked several times, both to clear the smoke from my eyes, as well as to make sure this wasn’t some dreamy apparition, a product of my depression and lack of sleep. As a light morning breeze cleared the air between us, it became obvious this was the real thing.
The woman was gorgeous. She was about five-three, with long locks of flowing, sun-radiant blonde hair, and a compact, athletic body, all wrapped in a light gray pantsuit and blazer. Her lips were full and her eyes almost a hypnotic gray-blue. She had a small yellow case on the ground beside her and a pair of white surgical gloves on her hands.
“That’s right, Mister King, I am a Human female. You act like you’ve never seen one before.”
“Oh, I’ve seen them before…just not one as—”
“Save the charm,” the woman said, cutting me off. “I’m Angela Cole, from the Consulate Office of Investigations.”
“You are? I’ve never seen you before,” I stammered. “I would have remembered.”
“I’m new…and all business.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“Two-fold.” Her voice was clear and confident, with just the right amount of high-end range and Southern
accent that made men go crazy. “With you being a Human, the Consulate has a duty to investigate such events as happened here last night. In addition, we’re assisting the locals in the attempted assassination of a visiting dignitary. I’m here with the Zorphin team.”
I reached out a hand. We shook without her removing the glove. So it was going to be like that—sterile.
“Sorry about the…well you know. I wasn’t expecting to see any Humans on site today. In fact, I don’t know what I was expecting. This has all been pretty traumatic.”
I was feeling depressed, but it never hurt to look even more hurt when in the company of a beautiful woman. They had this whole nurturing thing going on, and looking at this incredible creature before me, I could really use some nurturing right about now.
I noticed her face soften. It was working. Now what did she say her name was…Angie or Angela, something like that?
“What are you looking for?” I asked. “The house was hit by a couple of missile-carrying drones.”
Whatshername bent down, revealing shapely calfs and a hint of smooth, tanned thighs. She took an eight-inch-long probe and passed the end through a charred piece of plastic. She stood, presenting the object for my observation.
“This is what I’m looking for.” she said. “It’s part of the flight controller for a weaponized drone.”
“Looks pretty mangled.”
She brought the object close to her beautiful eyes. “That it is, but we’ll still be able to ID the brand, and from there, the type of drone it’s used in. Then we’ll check purchase records.” She placed the blackened object in a plastic pouch with a red Evidence label printed across the top. “We’re just beginning the investigation. There will be more to find.”
“I’m part of President Jor’s advisory team, so anything you come up with, I’d like to know about it.”
The woman looked at me with suspicion. “I’ll check on that,” she said as she turned away.
I couldn’t let the moment pass. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“It’s Off-Limits, Mister King. I’m sure that’s a name you’ll remember.”
Then she walked off into the smoke and rubble…and straight into my heart.
Corny, I know, but I was smitten.
Chapter 8
I left the ruins of my house and drove to a mall in the Enclaves to pick up a change of clothes; everything I had before was gone. Then I went to my office, where I received a less-than-warm welcome.
“Damn, you smell like rotten smoke,” said Quinton Valarie, my friend and business partner.
“Rotten smoke? What’s that?”
“Well it’s not that sweet smelling, campfire-in-the-woods kind of smell, but more like burning rubber.”
“I’ve been out to my house.”
“That’s obvious.” Quint turned serious. “Sorry about what happened. That was pretty screwed up.”
“I’ll survive.”
Quint gave me a knowing smile…but he also shut the door to my office when he left. He didn’t want the stink infesting the rest of the office any more than it already had.
I logged onto my computer and looked up the Galactic Lights. I was anxious to learn more of these mysterious objects, now that I knew they were real. The reading was fascinating, if mostly over my head scientifically.
Apparently, when a supermassive star goes nova, it first expands and then contracts before letting loose with the gigantic explosion we’re all familiar with. When the star collapses in on itself, it creates an incredible amount of gravity that fuses elements together to create even more complex structures. This is how an object made primarily of hydrogen and helium can cook up all the other stuff on the periodic chart of elements. The old saying that we’re all made of stardust is true. All the heavier elements in the universe were created in supernova explosions, and then reformed to make more stars, planets…and people.
According to theory, very few stars collapse to a single point and with equal force on all sides. This is exceedingly rare, yet it does happen—according to legend. At this point the gravity is so uniform and so intense that a new element is formed, one that’s not even listed on the periodic table. It’s a type of crystal, and what it does is trap a minute amount of the star’s inner core—its last flash of energy—within a unique crystalline container. The finished product isn’t any larger than a softball, but perfectly round and opaque. From inside the crystal, an ever-changing lightshow takes place, supposedly making the Lights something to behold.
Yet like every good legend, they also had a dark side. According to the stories, if a Light was to be ruptured, it would release the remaining energy from the supernova, and although it contained only a miniscule fraction of the overall power of the event, it would still be enough to destroy a planet. So something the size of a softball could destroy a world.
That was some dark side.
The legend also spoke of there being only five Galactic Lights, possibly created from the original stars that formed the Milky Way galaxy. They were rumored to be located anywhere and everywhere, guarded by trolls that size of houses or leprechaun-like beings who hid them in underground burrows. The bottom line: no one knew where they were or even if they were real. Scientists debunked the existence of the Lights as being impossible, yet through the centuries the legend survived.
Now I was supposed to believe the word of a purple bug with an engaging personality that they were real, in fact real enough to get him killed. I would need a little more proof before I gave in fully to Enic Jor’s story.
By now people were passing the glass wall of my office and looking in, scowling and pinching their noses. I figured it was time to go back to my hotel room and change clothes. Then I would track down Enic and Lefty. I had a ton of questions for the alien.
********
On the way to the hotel I called an old friend. I had another mystery to solve.
“Cyrus Blake,” the man answered. His image showed up on the tiny smartphone screen.
“Hey Cyrus, it’s Jason.”
His eyes grew wide. “Sorry, about your house. I heard the explosions from my place; Jackie thought it was thunder. I knew better.”
Cyrus was the CIA Head-of-Station at the Consulate, which made him the top spook among all the Humans on Sylox. I’d known him for years, even sold him his house in Enclaves. He’d caught some heat for helping me during the Unity Stone Affair, but was vindicated when the facts came out in the end. He’d been relieved of his post temporarily, but now he was back doing whatever CIA guys did at the capital of the galaxy.
“Thanks, buddy,” I said. Then I snorted. “That’s what I get for being a Good Samaritan. But the reason I’m calling is I ran into a lady at my house this morning. She works for the Consulate Investigative Service. I figure with all your contacts you might have heard of her.”
“Knowing you, that has to be Angela Cole.”
“That’s it!” I exclaimed. “I couldn’t remember her name. Thanks.”
“Distracted, were you?”
“You could say that.”
“Yeah, she’s making quite an impression over here.”
“So…give me some vitals: Married? Attached…I guess that’s all I really need to know, except her name, of course.”
“Down boy,” said Cyrus, smiling. “She unmarried, but also very dedicated to her job. She came to Sylox about two months ago after assignments at a couple of off-world embassies and a stint with the FBI back on Earth. About every swinging dick over here has been hitting on her, but from what I understand, she’s shut ‘em all down.”
“So…she’s available?”
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? Of course, you are the famous Jason King, and nothing is beyond your reach, right?”
“You’ve got me all wrong, Mister Blake. I’m an ambassador of goodwill and support for all the newbies coming to Sylox. I would be shirking my responsibilities if I didn’t offer her access to my wealth of knowled
ge concerning the capital city and all it has to offer. It’s just part of the service we provide at Galactic Realty and Relocation.”
Cyrus laughed. “You would think that with your house getting blown to bits last night that you’d have other things on your mind than another notch in your headboard.”
“A man has to have his priorities. Where’s she staying?”
“Sorry, buddy, I haven’t keep track of the lovely Ms. Cole. Remember, I’m a happily married man, with two kids and a house in the suburbs.”
“Angela Cole,” I recited in a sing-song voice. “It’s a start. And the fact that she’s investigating the attack on my home means we’re destined to meet again.”
“Heaven help us all. As I recall, the last time you went head-over-heels for a woman it nearly started a galactic war and almost collapsed the Union.”
I laughed. “I’ve learned my lesson, Cyrus. Now I do my due diligence before I leap.”
“Yeah, right. The extent of your due diligence is whether or not she’s breathing, single, and…well that’s about it. Good luck, Jason. You’re going to need it with this one.”
Chapter 9
After showering and changing clothes at the Marriott, I drove to the huge conference center on the outskirts of Sylox City. Security was everywhere, and it took me an hour to get through three checkpoints and half dozen calls before I was allowed into the ready room of the Annoc-Conn president.
My friend Lefty Rodriquez was there, and to my delight, so was the new love of my life, Angela Cole.