by T. R. Harris
It must have been a side-effect of the massive electrical shock I’d taken, but even in spite of my last disturbing thought, I managed to doze off, at least for a while.
It was the earthquake an hour later that woke me.
Chapter 32
I tumbled off the bed and ended up on the floor on my hands and knees. I was thinking of heading towards a doorway for protection when my senses cleared enough for me to realize it wasn’t an earthquake I was experiencing, but rather the gravity landings of several large spaceships.
It felt like an invasion taking place on the surface, and I immediately became concerned for Bill and his negotiations. Those trying to stop me had obviously tracked us to the Zorphin’s retreat.
I had to get to the Enterprise.
I slid open the door to my room and jumped out into the corridor; however I didn’t get very far, as I was now face-to-face with my alien friend Bill, who now held an MK-17 bolt launcher aimed directly at my chest.
“What the hell’s going on, Bill?” I yelled, believing his aim to be a mistake.
Just then the door to Miranda’s room also slid open. “They’ve found us!” she cried out as she ran through the opening. Yet once she spotted me and Bill frozen in the center of the corridor, she focused her attention on the weapon in Bill’s hand. “Oh isn’t this special – you’re one of them.”
Bill managed a thin smile. “Correction, Ms. Miranda. I am not merely one of them. Rather I am The One.”
**********
It was fifteen minutes later when an extremely upset Quint Valarie was shoved into the room where Miranda and I now sat. And if that weren’t enough, Vol’ox, the Mulicorean starship salesbeing, stumbling into the room right behind, his already pale skin appearing nearly translucent as all the blood had drained from his kangaroo-looking face.
Quint focused his fiery stare on me as a pair of Zorphins pushed him into the chair to my right. “Well, that didn’t work out as planned, now did it?”
I have to admit, I was only half-surprised to see Quint show up.
“What happened?”
“Ha! What didn’t?” Quint said. “It seems that that restricted space you sent me back into is actually part of a Zorphin military base, and one conveniently controlled by your former second baseman, slash catcher, slash evil mastermind villain. Sure, they made quick work of the ships following me – those were just merchant escorts – but now they’ve taken particular interest in the second Noreen. You do know that if it gets damaged, the damn Mulicoreans are going to hold me responsible. I’ll tell you right now, buddy, I can’t afford no five million dollars. And besides, you still owe me over forty grand for your hot rod starship.”
He stopped for a moment and looked around the room. After a moment he looked back at me again. “We’re not going to get out of this alive, are we?”
I shrugged. “Probably not, but who’s to say for sure?”
And then Quint looked past me to where Miranda sat to my left. He extended his arm across my chest, and smiled, offering his hand to Miranda. “Hi here, you must be the alluring Miranda Moore; I’m Quint, Quinton Valarie. I don’t believe we’ve met. I have to say, I’m really pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Moore.”
She shook his hand while returning Quint’s smile with a seductive one of her own. “Oh look, a gentleman. Will wonders never cease?” Back was Miranda’s exotic and sensual accent.
Quint kept his dark, Latin eyes locked with Miranda’s. “Jason, she doesn’t appear to be the diabolical succubus you’ve made her out to be. In fact, she’s an absolutely ravishing creature.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Valarie. You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Knock it off you two,” I said, growing annoyed. “This is serious. Jiminy Cricket over there is about to start the show. You might want to pay attention.”
**********
Even though Billork had yet to deliver the classic James-Bond-Villain-Closing-Speech, I knew it was coming, at which time all would be revealed. The alien criminal mastermind had just been waiting for all the guests to arrive before he began.
Now, as the two Zorphin armed guards who had entered with Quint took up positions behind us, Bill set his weapon on the table behind of him and stood up.
“Jason, my Captain, you do know that I don’t actually need the statue for my plan to succeed. As a fact, its continued existence is more of a hindrance than a benefit. But I would still like to have it. It would not be good for it to show up at some point in the future.”
“What’s he talking about?” Quint asked. “He doesn’t have the statue?”
“If he did, I doubt if any of us would still be alive.” I met Bill’s eyes across the room. “So if you don’t need the Stone, why are we still alive?”
Bill smiled, that goofy-looking alien kind of smile of his. “I could say it is because we are friends and teammates, although I know you have never considered me to be either. Your fake friendship and camaraderie was so transparent, Jason. And your continued condescension throughout the years has been almost more than I could bear.”
“So all of this is because you’re pissed at me?”
“There you go again, seeing everything as being centered on you.”
“You noticed that about him, too?” Miranda said. “What a frickin ego.”
I jerked my head in her direction. “What is this, Gang-Up on Jason Week? And look who’s talking? You’ve been the prima donna throughout this entire affair. Besides, I remember you admitting that you rather enjoyed our one night together.”
“That may be so … but you’re still just a scruffy-looking nurf-herder in my opinion.”
“Who’s scruffy-looking? Yeah I get the reference, sweetheart, and thanks. But you’re the one who’s made all this possible.”
“Don’t blame her, Jason. You really had no control over events leading up to this very moment. It started several months ago when, with the help of the now-incapacitated Mon Wilson, we developed a profile of your perfect female and set about looking for just the one who we could get you to do our bidding. I must say, during our analysis it didn’t seem as though your requirements went much beyond simply being a Human female. And although I am a poor judge of such things – being an alien, as you call me – I get the impression that Mr. Wilson may have far exceeded our basic criteria when he found your Miranda.”
“Thank you,” Miranda said with a frown. “I think.”
“So you were supposed to be so irresistible to me that I couldn’t say no? Is that it? We’ll I did, if you recall. You know she wanted me to spy for her?”
“Will the two of you please shuddup!” Quint yelled. “You’re acting like an old married couple, while the big green alien thing over there is about to kill us all dead.”
“We’re not aliens – we are native to Sylox! How many times do I have to say that?” Billork now turned back to the table and grabbed his weapon. He aimed it at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The resulting blast got our attention.
“If you will now allow me to continue, you may all learn something – before you die.”
“That’s how it’s supposed to work, in the movies,” I said under my breath, still pissed that everyone was picking on me.
“Are you not curious as to why I have done all this?”
“Yeah, you’re upset because everyone keeps calling you an alien.” Maybe I had gone too far, because Bill suddenly took one hop at me and slammed his massive fist into the side of my head. I tumbled into Quint, who himself fell into Vol’ox. We all ended up in a pile on the floor.
The Mulicorean was the first to retake his seat. “I am an alien, too, as they call me, so I am not a part of any of this. All I do is sell spaceships. Please let me go, and I will say nothing. I promise.”
Bill turned to glare at him. “I hate spaceship salesbeings as well. You are all carrion-eaters, you and home agents, as well.” The last comment earned me a glare of my own from the angry alien – I mean native.
Quint and I to
ok our seats again, while Bill returned to the spot in the room where a podium would have been placed, if there had been a podium in the room.
“Maybe we should let him finish his story,” Miranda said. “He seems really intent on telling it.”
“Thank you, Ms. Miranda,” Bill said. “I am. And for some odd reason I feel I must explain my actions – at least to someone. And who better than those who are about to die?”
“Then by all means, continue Bill,” I said enthusiastically. Immediately the plot of A Thousand and One Arabian Nights came to mind. Reversing the storyline of the classic, I realized the longer I could keep him talking, the longer we had to live.
My other two Human companions were thinking along the same lines, too, because now we all nodded and cheered for the frustrated alien to continue. Bill’s face and manner changed, as he now found he had a rapt and willing audience for his tale of criminal genius.
In the meantime, Quint slowly passed me a small laser-pistol under the table, one of two he’d extracted from Vol’ox’s marsupial pouch during the pile-up. We would listen to Bill’s story, but we certainly weren’t going down without a fight.
**********
“That’s better,” said Billork. “And now, Jason King, you will gain respect for me once you have learned what I have managed to accomplish.”
“For what good it’s going to do me … when I’m dead.”
“That is unfortunate, but that eventuality is partially your fault.”
“And exactly how did you come to that conclusion?”
“It has been by studying your crime stories – Human crime stories – that my organization and I have been able to devise a plan that is foolproof, as you call it.”
“That’s obvious,” Miranda chimed in, looking at me with a silly grin.
To his credit, Bill was learning to ignore our snide remarks and get on with his story. “For example, we have learned that for any crime to fully succeed, one must not only have precision planning and execution, but also to provide the authorities with another party – or parties – to take the blame for said crime. If one can be created and supplied with irrefutable evidence to that effect, then the Enforcers will have solved the crime and will therefore have no reason to search further for the true perpetrators. By the Human definition, that would be the perfect crime.”
He paused for some reason, probably because he’d seen the villains do it in the old Bond movies – many of which I’d lent him over the years. The bastard! I don’t think he’d returned them all to me, either.
But then he continued. “However, at this point I must declare that I do not feel we have been perpetrating a crime by the true definition of the word, but rather a resolution to a problem than has plagued the Zorphin for over three hundred years. Even still, blame for recent events – as well those that are about to happen – must be refocused on others, and not on us. Those others, unfortunately, are you, Jason King, and you, Miranda Moore. And beyond that, others will additionally share the responsibility, including that disgusting creature Jonk Limbor and his Linorean Foundation. Included as well, will be the entire Human population on Sylox, and by extension, on Earth as well.
“You see, my Captain, we want and need a war between Simore and Velosia. It was because of their on-going animosity for one another that the Amelians conceded to move the Capital to Sylox, an event of which many of us – my ancestors included – were adamantly opposed.”
“So that’s what this about?” I blurted out. “You don’t want to be the center of the universe anymore.”
“We are not the center of the universe, Jason. The Union Capital is, and it just happens to be on Sylox. And since the Union’s arrival, the entire culture and way of life of the Zorphin has been altered – not the least of which by the disgusting practice of scarring the surface with your ugly residential dwellings.”
This was a whole new side of Bill I’d never seen before – the confident, assertive, indeed powerful Bill. I kinda liked it. I had respect for decisive people, and for my old friend to put all this together meant he had more cojones than I’d given him credit for. I assumed Zorphins had cojones. I’m sure they had to.
“Jason, you have no concept what a tragedy it has been to watch the surface of my beloved planet be ravaged by off-planet developers, such as you and your associates. And it has not only been the Humans, although I must say your kind have been the most prolific and successful.”
“But Jonk builds underground homes; why are you pissed at him, too?”
“The Linorean Foundation is much more than simply residential builders. They also construct huge pinnacle structures – you call them skyscrapers. They also build traffic ribbons and mobile transports, plus they have investments in commercial and retail sales outlets, and so much more. They also supply weapons and other materials of war to any party capable of making payment.
“As you can see now, our plan is all-encompassing. And in one brilliant move, we will have managed to solve all our problems at once.”
“How is all this going to get your planet back?” Quint asked. Good! Questions required answers – and more talking – anything to keep us alive a little long while I did my best to formulate a plan.
“It is quite simple, Mr. Valarie,” Bill said. “The Velosian and the Simoreans will devastate each other in their war, while drawing in a number of other races for what will become a galaxy-wide conflagration. Yet since many of these worlds are far from Sylox – which I might add will declare its neutrality in the conflict – the bulk of the battles will take place at a distance, sparing us from any damage. At the war’s conclusion, the Union will be severely weakened. The Amelians, who never wanted to move the Capital to Sylox in the beginning, will elect to return the Union Capital to their homeworld.
“In the meantime, those entities complicit in the theft of the Unity Stone – and as instigators of the galaxy-wide war – will be expelled from the Union and banished from Sylox. Individual worlds, such as Earth, may even suffer catastrophic retaliation for their supposed involvement in the conflict.
“In the end, the Linorean Foundation will be dissolved, the Humans from Earth will be gone from Sylox, and the Union will return to Amelia, leaving Sylox to the native Zorphins. All the true aliens will then be gone from my homeworld.”
I nodded to Bill. “Damn, dude, that’s a pretty good plan.” And I meant it. It looked like Bill and his so-called people had it pretty well wrapped up. “So why didn’t you just protest in the Council and ask to have the Capital moved? If that happened – without a war – then the Human developers would move, too?”
“Unfortunately, not all Zorphins realize what a horrible thing it has been to have the Union Capital on Sylox.”
“But you have?” Miranda threw in.
“That is correct. My followers can see the damage being inflicted, even if others cannot. In the long-run, all Zorphins will benefit from our actions, and in time they will thank us.”
“But right now, how do they feel about your movement?”
Miranda seemed to have picked up on the flaw in Bill’s plan, because the big green alien was beginning to squirm.
“That is not important. We cannot be responsible for the narrow vision of some, those who cannot see the damage occurring right before their eyes. And then there are the traitors, the turncoats, as you call them. These are Zorphin who embrace the alien invaders and attempt to adopt their ways.”
“Jonk accused you of doing just that,” I pointed out.
“I had to play my role, not only for your benefit, Jason King, but also for the near future as Sylox goes through a major transition period. Yet as more and more of my people begin to turn to our side, I will rise up as the voice of the new Sylox.”
I laughed. “So screw ambitions for the Council, you want to be leader of the whole damn planet.”
“That is correct, Jason. And I will lead my people into a new era of peace, prosperity – and most of all – independence. I am sure
you, of all creatures, can appreciate that.”
“So you have studied Human history, Billy.” I’d never called him Billy before, so I didn’t know how he’d react to it. It wasn’t good.
“I thought I would gain your respect by explaining myself, but I see that has not happened.” He began to walk towards the door.
Oh shit! Was the lecture over?
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“It seems as though I have been wasting my time here with you – with all of you. It is time for me get on with my affairs.” He stopped at the doorway. “Just to conclude, your bodies will be found in the wreckage of your pretentious spaceship, along with all the evidence necessary to prove your quilt beyond a reasonable doubt. That way, the file will be closed and I will be free to pursue the rest of my plan. The war will begin, and then I will start the push for independence. The Amelians will agree, as they have always wanted the Capital back on their homeworld. And without the Velosians or Simoreans to protest, it will come to pass.”
I had turned in the chair towards Bill and begun to rub my right leg as he talked. “Sorry, my friend, but we’ve been sitting for quite a while. But now I suppose it’s time for us to die.”
“Unfortunately, yes. But please go with the knowledge that with your deaths will come a new beginning for the natives of Sylox.”
“That’s good, Bill. I’m glad we could help. There’s just one last thing I’d like you to do for me – kinda of a dying wish and all.”
Bill frowned. “And what would that be, my Captain?”
“Catch!”
**********
I whipped off my right shoe, and in a flash, threw it directly at Bill’s head.
The ceiling of the room we were in was over twenty feet high; however the doorway where Bill now stood was only about twelve. Startled, Bill’s instinctive reflexes took over – and he sprung up on his double-jointed legs. His head crumbled against the door’s header, coming close to breaking his neck, but definitely knocking him unconscious.
At the same time, Quint took aim at the nearest Zorphin guard with his little laser pistol, and sent a pencil-width beam of red light through the alien’s chest.