by Jean Kilczer
The whine of a small ground hovar.
It slid to a stop beside me.
“Are you walking to the port?” the Vegan driver leaned out the window to ask me.
“I'm trying to. Do you have room?”
The female Vegan in the passenger seat motioned to three furry children in the back. “Slide over, my darling cubs.”
“Thanks,” I told her.
The kids watched me with open curiosity as I climbed inside, and stretched their snouts to sniff me.
“Now watch your manners,” Mama bear told them.
I grinned at the adorable kids. “Hi, tags.”
“Hi, Terran,” the tallest one responded and wagged her muzzle in a Vegan greeting.
I sighed as I sat back and closed my eyes. “Are you on your way to planet Earth?” the driver asked casually.
I decided he was just curious. “No, Alpha. I have some government business there about ordinances on the gold mines. Going home to Kresthaven?” I asked, to be equally friendly.
“Yes,” the woman answered. “We also are on business for our homeworld. We negotiated for a Vegan interest in a mine that will bring credits to Kresthaven and help feed our people.”
“That's important work,” I said and closed my eyes and promptly fell asleep.
I awoke when the vehicle jerked to a stop.
We were at the spaceport. It boasted one building that looked like a termite mound of native soil and stone on steroids.
The shuttle had landed. Terrans and aliens strolled out of the terminal with backpacks and suitcases and looked around curiously.
I helped the Vegan family unload and carry their suitcases as we headed for the main entrance. Vermakt police stood guard near the doors and scrutinized the passengers as they walked to rented hovairs in the parking lot, and eyed those entering the terminal for an outward bound.
Two Vermakts guarding the main doors were busy discussing the possibility of pay raises for the police department. I stayed close to my Vegan buddies and walked casually past the two and into the building.
“Thanks for the ride,” I told the Vegans. “Bye, tags.” I waved to the three kids and went to buy a ticket for an outward bound.
SHUTTLE NOW BOARDING the holo announced as it drifted under the ceiling. VEGA ALTAIR DINEA ALPHA EARTH
I went through the portal, where my stingler was automatically discharged. I hate that, but I can understand the reasoning behind it. Not only was it illegal to carry a weapon through town and the spaceport, but automatically discharging any weapon prevented ships from being hijacked.
I boarded the shuttle and beat an Altairian to the last window seat. He muttered as he plunked down beside me. The gases inside his bubble helmet stirred and clouded his lime-green features.
I never liked Altairians, besides my encounters with Zorga. They seem to think that “grumpy” and “disdainful” are virtues. He flipped open an i-something, I can't keep up with the devices, and watched a holomentary of his home planet, narrated in his native tongue. It was Altairian to me. But I found myself intrigued by the stark gray and charcoal landscapes, dotted with thick, slime-green ponds. Altairians rested on the slick surfaces. It was strange to see them without their helmets. In the distance, buildings like bent crosses leaked green light.
He slid me a look and I turned and gazed out the window as the shuttle taxied down the tarmac. I love the whine of powerful engines as a space craft lifts in contradiction to the law of gravity. But then many objects in space, including black holes, concentrate gravity into monsters that eat stars and solar systems as they drift through the galaxy.
Uh oh, I thought as the craft suddenly slowed, banked, and landed on a side runway. Engine trouble.
“Vert fie!” the Altairian muttered and snapped shut his i-holo device.
Passengers looked around, shook their heads and whispered to each other. But they fell silent as the captain, a well-built Cleocean, opened the cabin door.
“The sorry I am, all fellow races of the star systems.” He stared at me. “But there has been a slight delay.”
Christ! I thought. Had the police discovered me after all? My hand went reflexively to my stingler as the captain approached and leaned over the Altairian's helmet. “Terran sir Jules Rammis,” he whispered, “please accompany my walk.”
“I have a ticket,” I told him and tried to keep my voice even.
“Yes. Please accompany me now to the hatch.”
I took a breath and tried to relax. “What's the problem, Captain?”
“This craft cannot take off, Terran sir, until you disembark.”
“Just go with him!” the Altairian said. “Before you make me late for my wedding!”
Pity the bride, I thought. I stood up and glanced toward the main hatch. It was the only way out. The captain waited for me to go first. As I walked past the Vegan family, they kept their heads lowered. I was beyond embarrassment. I laid my hand again on my discharged stingler. Habit always wins out. But what awaited me on the other side of that door?
The captain reached around me and sprang the hatch. I fell back into him as I stared out at…nothing.
The lit path to the terminal was empty. I glanced at the captain. “They await your arrival within.” He gestured toward the terminal.
“Oh. Well, bon voyage, Captain.”
“To you also, Terran.”
Whatever, I thought.
As I walked toward the terminal, I heard the hatch snap shut behind me.
I turned and limped toward an outside gate of the small spaceport. Who but Rowdinth's police could abort a shuttle takeoff and order a passenger to disembark? But why hadn't they confronted me at the shuttle?
Why was I looking a gift horse in the mouth? A forklift! My ride. I hurried toward it and climbed into the seat. Yes! The key was still in the ignition. I started the work vehicle and drove toward the gate.
Behind me sirens!
A ground police car sped across the tarmac. This was the tortoise and the hare as the forklift lumbered toward the gate.
Wait a minute. I swung the vehicle around and raised the fork. It protected me from their fire, if they were inclined to fire.
I headed for their patrol car. They turned the vehicle to try to avoid a crash, but I turned too and smashed into their right fender. The forklift rocked. I crowded the car as it ground sideways, and lowered the fork until it was under the car's belly. Then I engaged the fork and lifted the vehicle until it toppled onto its side.
“Eat that, fuckers!” I shouted as their wheels spun in air, and turned the forklift back toward the gate. As I said, my ride was a tortoise, albeit a very powerful one.
The two police tags crawled out of their downed vehicle and ran after me, their weapons drawn. But they wouldn't burn me. Would they? My sought-after tel powers had given me carte blanche, so to speak, in the past. Of course stun settings were another story.
The Vermakts went to all fours, for all the world like huge rats in uniforms, and loped after the chugging forklift. I realized they were the same two I had encountered at the harbor. They'd been following me!
I unholstered my stingler and aimed. Then I remembered. No charge…no burn.
Dammit!
They had nothing to fear from me as they leaped onboard the lift. One shut off the key.
“All right!” I said as they pushed me down into the seat and held me there. Damn, they smelled bad, like sweaty armpits. “Let go. I give up!” I lied. The prospect of facing that lunatic Rowdinth again made me wish for a can of rat poison.
They let me go and I sat up and brushed myself off. “I almost made it, you sewer rats,” I told them, just to be irritating.
“Not even close, Terran,” the male said. “We followed you from the woods and waited for you to make contact with W-CIA. We wanted to catch your accomplices too. But don't worry.” His smile was snide. “General Rowdinth will have ways to squeeze their names out of your shapeless body.”
“There are n
o contacts,” I said sullenly. “I work alone.”
A wanton sense of isolation settled inside me like the void between stars as the shuttle lifted into the night sky. My ride out. How could I contact Joe now?
I closed my eyes as the male steered the forklift back to their vehicle. When we reached it, the female worked the fork and bounced their stalled car onto its wheels.
I closed my eyes, gathered my tel powers and imaged a giant Earth tiger emerging from the blackness of night, head low, mouth agape and slavering, eyes like glowing yellow coals as he prowled toward the two Vermakts. I've come to rip open your throats and bleed you out, my ancient enemies, I sent, before I feast on your beating hearts. Run and I will rip razor claws down your trembling backs.
“Did you hear that?” the female squeaked. She rolled beady eyes that showed white. “I think it's a cat!”
“The cats on Fartherland have all been killed,” the male told her. But his eyes, too, were wide. “It's an Earth rat-killer. Now control yourself, Cirzma, before you lose this litter too!”
I came from Earth to rid this world of its rats, I sent. Run, rodents, if you can, and feel my hot breath on your necks as I crush your bones between my fangs
“It's him!” The male pointed at me. “He's sending these images.” He raised his fist to hit me. “You snake in the burrow!”
I shoved him hard. Vermakts are difficult to knock over with their low center of gravity. I grabbed his stingler from its holster as he staggered back and swept them both with a beam.
I was relieved that the weapon was only set on stun as they slid to the floor of the vehicle in two bulgy heaps. I shoved the stingler inside my holster strap, grabbed the female's weapon too, and climbed off the forklift, now sporting three stinglers. I limped to their patrol vehicle, got inside and drove toward the gate.
I had to smile. I had learned a valuable lesson. No matter how smart and/or civilized your opponent is, he retains, as we all do, the fears of his early heritage in the proverbial primal ooze. Being eaten alive was a link right at the top of the food chain. Latch onto that one with a tel message, and you activate the core of the survival kit, past reason, past all the so-called technological advances and scientific knowledge of civilized beings. With rats it's cats. And snakes. What was it with Terrans? Oh yeah, saber-tooths and short-faced bears would do nicely.
I had taken a step forward in my tel lessons, and my powers would never revert to previous dimensions. “You might have suggested that, Spirit, my Halcyon mentor and antagonist.” I knew he could easily reach Fartherland with his incredible tel powers. “Or did you assume that when the student was ready, the lesson would appear? As usual, thanks for all your help.”
I glanced back at the empty tarmac. The port's second shuttle sat in its open hangar. For me to board another shuttle would be suicidal. The port would be swarming with Rowdinth's police in a short while, and his Elite Guards.
On the other hand, Huff could board with a ticket for his Vegan homeworld. Then, he could disembark on Alpha with a coded message from me to Joe. He owed me. And he had honor. But was he alive? And if so, where in hell –
“Jules!”
In the lights of the patrol car, I saw Huff standing in front of the gate. I came to a screeching halt and opened the driver's door. “Huff?” It couldn't be Huff. Coincidences like this only happened in poorly written fiction. “Huff?” I got out, my stingler drawn. Did Rowdinth have other Vegans on the payroll? Could they disguise themselves as Huff with his slouchy stance and his golden eyes?
Wait! Wrong stingler. I pulled out a charged weapon.
He extended a furry paw. “I would not attempt harm on you, Jules. I thought you and I be friends. See.” He raised both paws. “I have no arms but these.”
It sure sounded like Huff.
I kept the stingler raised, but set only to stun. “What are you doing here?”
“Attempting to allay your fears.”
This had to be Huff. I holstered the charged stingler and stuffed mine into the holster strap, along with the third one. “Where are Chancey and Carmen? Are they alive?” I held my breath as I waited for his answer.
“You mean Shelley?” he said. “Why needs your waist so many weapons?”
“I'm opening a gun shop! I need answers, Huff. Where are Chancey and Shelley, if that's her real name?”
“If that's her real name, they are in the building with Joe Hatch, who says he is a friend of yours.”
“Joe? Joe's here?”
“No.”
“You just said….”
“In the building.”
“Get in the car, Huff!”
He did, and I drove to the terminal. “Why didn't you tags come to my aid when those two police cruds attacked me? I could've used some help!”
“Joe wanted them to capture you. He said they would not exterminate you.”
“Brave of him to take that chance. Did he say why? Wait. Let me rephrase that. Why did Joe want them to capture me?” I asked carefully.
“He believed they would take you to General Rowdinth's citadel and we would follow and locate it.”
“But you've been there.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Huff, don't you know where the citadel is located?”
“No. General Rowdinth keeps it holo-shielded so that the entrance appears to be just one more barren sand among more barren sand.”
“And when his own people approach?”
“They cannot find it.”
I sighed and shut off the motor. We were at the terminal.
I tried again. “How do his people get inside, dammit?”
“Oh. They must wear blindfolds and then an automated vehicle greets them and brings them inside.”
Thank you, Huff.”
“You're welcome, Jules.”
“Like pulling eye teeth!” I muttered as he led me into a back entrance of the building.
“What?”
“Eye teeth!” Oh, no, I thought. Don't go there with Huff. That way madness lies. “Never mind.”
Huff led me through a warehouse stacked with boxes for delivery and export. He opened a shabby inner door and nodded for me to enter. I walked into an employee's lounge with the smell of coffee. He followed.
Joe, Chancey and Shelley sat at a long table in the center of the room. Shelley wore little makeup, a demure outfit of blue pants and a white blouse, and a perceptive expression. No love child here, but a capable woman. Perhaps a W-CIA operative? Could be. Chancey nodded at me as I entered the room. He folded his bare arms, thick as a woman's waist, and sat back with a broad grin.
I shook my head and smiled. “It's good to see you tags alive and well. You too, Joe. Sorry I couldn't accommodate you and stay captured, but you know me, unpredictable as a bull moose in rut.”
“Sit down,” Joe said.
“How's Lisa?”
“She's fine.”
I took a ham and cheese sandwich from the refrigerator, unwrapped it and studied the contents. “And Althea and Abby.”
“Just fine too. Sit down.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee and strolled to the table. “How Charles what's-his-name? You know, Althea's new tag.”
“They're all fine,” Joe said. “Sit down.”
Shelley threw me a glance that held a wisp of humor.
I stirred the coffee. “Chancey? Is that your real name, or just a cover, too?”
He smirked “Who would name their kid Chancey?”
“So what do I call you?”
“My real name's African,” he said. “Call me Bhekizitha. It means 'He who watches for the enemy'.”
“Appropriate,” I said, “but unpronounceable, I'm afraid.”
“That's why they call me Chancey.”
“Are you going to sit down sometime today?” Joe asked me.
I pushed aside a platter with one doughnut and crumbs, rolled away an empty soda bottle that rattled to the floor, put down my dinner and leaned on the table with
my hands. “The next time you want to use me for the sacrificial lamb, Hatch, let me in on the plan!”
Joe took out his pipe, stared at it and put it away. “There was no way to contact you. You know the stakes we're playing for.”
“Where were you,” Chancey asked me, “between the landing on the beach and boarding the shuttle?”
I thought of Shannon and the little people as I sat down and sipped coffee. God! It was awful. “This stuff tastes like battery acid.”
“I have an ant-acid.” Huff dug into a pouch in his belly fur. Were Vegans marsupials? If so, wasn't it only the females of the species?
“Never mind, Huff.” Joe said and stared at me. “Chancey asked you a question, Jules.”
I shrugged. “Just rooting around, so to speak.” The sandwich was days old, by the taste of it. I stared into the coffee cup. “You know something, Joe, you're damn lucky I escaped from Rowdinth's police.”
Joe stared at me and waited.
“Because if they had dragged me off to Rowdinth's den, I might have lost the opportunity to lead you to the lab.” I forgot and drank the coffee again. “God! This is terrible.”
“Then maybe stop drinking it?” Huff offered.
I heard Shelley gasp. “The lab?”
Joe's expression didn't change, but the look in his eyes grew intense.
“Where, Jules?” Shelley asked. “Where's the lab?”
“Well, the only entrance I know of is a hatch between tree roots that leads to a warren of little people disguised as Leprechauns, and a dead end at a wall of the lab.”
She glanced at Joe and frowned.
Joe closed his eyes and shook his head.
“You've been there?” Chancey asked. “It's not holo-veiled?”
“Rowdinth doesn't know about the tunnel to the lab.” I shrugged. “I couldn't tell you where the surface entrance is located, but if we blast the lab from that tunnel, we should be able to – “
“You were personally at the dead end?” Joe asked with an intensity that was unusual for him.
“Yes. Personally, Joe, that's how I know – “
“And that's how they know.” Joe rubbed his forehead. “Goddammit!”