Alien Species Intervention: Books 1-3: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609)

by J. K. Accinni

  “Hey, kid, how’s your arm doing?”

  Kimir shyly held up the bandage on his arm. His mother shooed him back behind her skirts and fixed Scotty with a critical eye. She examined him thoroughly up and down. Turning to Kimir, she said, “Tell Scotty and Ms. Preston what you told me.”

  Kimir’s eyes bulged as he haltingly described the monster he saw pop out from under Scotty’s shirt. “The monster made my turtle better. The bad boys killed my turtle. The monster made my turtle come back to life, good as new. I was scared. The monster was very big.” Kimir stood on his toes with his hand up in the air as high as he could reach. “Way, way up in the air. I think Scotty is a big monster, Mama.”

  Abby laughed nervously.

  “Kimir, you simply saw the sun in your eyes and imagined a monster because you were frightened by the boys. I appreciate your mother’s concern, but I am very busy and must get to work.” Pushing Scotty back into the room, she said goodbye to their visitors. But not before she caught the suspicious cold stare of Kimir’s mother.

  “We will be back later with Kimir’s father. He will ask you to explain. Goodbye.” And off they went.

  Abby closed the door, breathing a temporary sigh of relief. She really didn’t want to be here if Kimir’s father planned to show up. She could not let him anywhere near Scotty. What if he actually tried to look under Scotty’s shirt? Jose, she thought. He’ll know how to handle it.

  She found Jose in his bedroom with Echo and Barney hiding under the bed covers, if you could call the vigorous scrambling going on ‘hiding’.

  “Hey, guys, I need some help. The coast is clear, for now. But they’ll be back when Kimir’s father gets home.” Wringing her hands, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Come on, can you please stop the horsing around? We might have a problem on our hands. And what about the gold? It’s still gone.”

  Jose popped his head up from under the covers, sobering quickly when Abby reminded him of the missing gold and how instrumental it was to his plans for their safety. Getting off the bed, he led Abby into the living room so he could include Scotty in their conversation.

  As they left the bedroom, they failed to see Echo’s quizzical expression and the flashing of her golden eyes. Ordering Barney off the bed, Echo clambered onto his back and quietly rode him into the hallway where they took up a comfortable position to listen in on the conversation. Echo felt disturbed. Watching her Brothers and her Sister talk quietly on the uncomfortable living room sofa, she could hear the concern about the missing gold, their safety, the need for secrecy and some disturbing information about some humans named Tomas, Armoni and Kelly.

  Echo decided it was time to enlighten them about the gold as she began to realize the significance of the shiny mineral. She thought she had better learn what she could about the other three. Her mission might actually start sooner than she expected. Sliding down Barney’s back, Echo entered the living room, her tiny useless wings undulating as they always did when she was disturbed.

  “My family, please do not fear. I have tried to make things easier for you, with the help of the Womb, of course. Come.” Sliding across the floor on her tiny leather feet, she shuffled to the door leading into the garage. “Come,” she beckoned. Abby and Jose tossed questioning looks at each other.

  Shrugging, they followed their enigmatic sojourner. Opening the door and switching on the light, their jaws dropped. And then they grinned, grabbing Echo up in their arms, laughing with relief. They danced into the garage where, wonderfully, all the gold was neatly stacked in small sizes, very easy to handle.

  Golden auras flashed in their minds, “You are happy now, yes?”

  “Yes, Echo, we are very happy. What a relief! You’re such a monkey!”

  “No, Brother Jose, I am not a monkey. I am an Oolahan.”

  Jose chuckled. He had forgotten how literal Echo could sometimes be; and how observant. Abby announced she wanted to take a shower. She gave Echo a kiss and danced down the hallway.

  Jose continued to muse about Echo. She must have realized he and Scotty were complaining about the difficulty of moving the gold. So she had taken care of it on her own. Well, with the help of what Echo called the ‘Womb’; whatever that was. It had never occurred to Jose to consult with Echo over the problem. Staring at Echo, he realized they knew so very little about her. His earlier trepidation dissipated, but he had better stop thinking of her as their special pet and Barney’s personal playmate. There may be much more to Echo than they realized. Time for a little chat, although he admitted he usually didn’t get far trying to pry information from her.

  “I know you’re not a monkey. That’s a slang term of endearment. Actually, I don’t really know what you are.”

  “Yes you do, Brother. I am an Oolahan, a minion of the Womb from the planet Oolaha. Did we not have this conversation already, Brother Jose?” Changing the subject, Echo demanded to know who Tomas, Kelly and Armoni were, and why they were dangerous. Were they bad humans?

  “Yes, they’re very bad and very dangerous. They wish to harm Abby. I’m worried they might get to her if we don’t move away from here. That’s why the gold is so important. We can use it to exchange for money. Then we can afford to move away.”

  “Gold will do that for you? I am so happy the Womb chose to make the tree house out of gold then, instead of the diamonds it was going to use. The diamonds would have been stronger, but the Womb could not find enough material to complete the task. The gold was much more plentiful.”

  “Diamonds? You had diamonds? This is too much. Echo, any diamonds you find are a good thing—a very good thing. A diamond is something a man gives to the lady he loves. If she accepts it, the man knows she loves him back and they get married, hopefully living happily ever after.”

  “Do you want a diamond to give to Sister Abby, Brother?” Echo asked innocently.

  “Yes, sometime I hope to give Abby a diamond. But I must wait until I am sure she will accept it.”

  “Oh, I think I understand.” Echo’s aura splintered into a new pattern.

  “Brother Jose, don’t worry about Sister Abby. I will protect her.” Jose looked down at the tiny two-feet high furry enigma. Echo sure did have a magic bag of tricks, but they had better rely on him to provide the protection. Patting Echo on the head, he decided he had better go round up Abby and Scotty so they could plan how to dispose of some of the gold. Oh, one more question for Echo.

  “Echo, do you have any objection if our family moves away from this neighborhood? Like about a thousand miles away, to another state.”

  “No, Brother Jose. I will be happy to go wherever you need me to go. Will My Barney come too? I cannot leave him behind.”

  “Of course Barney will come. He’s family. And he’s special to you. We wouldn’t leave any of our loved ones behind, okay?”

  The aura whispered assent and Jose left to find Abby and Scotty.

  *

  Three very happy young people sat around the kitchen table, staring at a piece of gold retrieved from the garage. Abby held it in her hand, estimating the weight.

  “This must be at least ten pounds.” Taking out her cellphone she turned to a calculator app and figured the worth of the hunk of gold. “Current quote for gold is $5523 an ounce. I don’t know what they will actually pay, but it will be less a commission. I have no idea how much that is, but it doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is how many pounds they can move for us without questioning us too closely. We may need to use every dealer in the county. Spread it around. Sooner or later they’ll talk to one another and realize they have the same customer trying to dump the gold. I think we should be prepared to get out of town within a month of starting to sell. And of course, we’ll have to research how this is reported to the IRS. We want to be very careful about avoiding the appearance of anything illegal. We may want to consider consulting with an attorney, maybe a tax attorney. What do you guys think?”

  “Sounds great, Abby. Glad you’ve been doing some thinking about
this. Scotty, you on board? Scotty?”

  Scotty scribbled furiously, very busy with a pencil and Abby’s cellphone. “Well guys, at $5500 an ounce, allowing for commissions, attorney fees, bribes, etc., I estimate we have over two thousand pounds in the garage. That is almost $176 million. The government leaches will take 60 percent. That leaves us approximately $71 million.” Looking up, Scotty beamed. “I’m good with figures.”

  Jose and Abby looked at each other with astonishment. “Do you think that’s enough, babe?” Jose said to Abby.

  “Babe? What do you mean, babe?” Scotty blurted, looking from one to the other. Abby shrugged her shoulders looking tolerant. “Hey—what’s with you two?”

  Jose clapped Scotty on the back and jumped up, giving him a bear hug.

  “Don’t mind us. We’re just giddy with happiness. I’ll make an appointment with an attorney. Abby, do you want to come with me? Scotty, I want you to stay here and guard the house. Have the cops on speed dial. Just in case Tomas or Armoni decide to show up. Do not answer the door . . . for anything, no matter what. Abby, I think you should call a security company and have them give us the works. Once the rumor of Scotty’s oddness gets around, and it will, we might have more unwelcome visitors.”

  “Jose, I’m starting to feel nervous about the timing of all of this. Maybe we should relocate to someplace temporary as soon as we get our hands on some cash. We might be safer there because no one will know where we are. Here, we’re sitting ducks. Just selling one piece of gold will give us the money to move.”

  Abby had a point. They decided it might take more than one day to sell even three pieces of the gold; one apiece. They realized gold shops probably didn’t have the kind of money they needed on hand. The transactions might take a couple of days.

  In the meantime, they could look for a decent hotel with an outside entrance. They should be safe there until they sold the rest of the gold. Of course, they were going to have to rent a very secure truck to store the gold. Maybe the security company could get them the correct truck. They should have everything done within four days. No less.

  Tomorrow would be the first contact with the gold dealers. They decided Scotty would not participate at first, because of his age. They wanted to get a handle on the procedure and the possible pitfalls before they sent in a young kid who might arouse suspicion. After all, even a sixteen ounce lump of gold was worth over $88,000.

  As the day drew to a close, everyone retired to their bedrooms. Echo decided to sleep with Abby after first explaining that she must guard her as she slept. So of course that meant Barney must join them in Abby’s small single bed. Thank heavens she would soon be able to afford a bed large enough to get a good night’s sleep. Even with unexpected furry company.

  *

  The next day, Jose woke at a knock on his bedroom door. Scotty leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, shaking his head, but grinning all the same. Crooking his finger at Jose, he said, “Follow me.”

  Walking into the living room, Jose knew he was in for another amazing day. And he was right. There in the middle of the floor sat a heap of what looked like dirty rocks, of all sizes. The largest looked as big as a baseball. There sat Barney looking dumb and proud, as if he had personally dug them out of the back yard. And there sat Echo, eyes big and flashing golden rainbows. She watched him with her head bowed, but make no mistake, she followed his every move. Rainbow auras pressed his mind.

  “These are for my family. Do you accept them, Brothers?” Kneeling down, Jose examined the rocks. “Do you accept them, my Brothers?” Echo repeated.

  Jose asked slowly. “Are these actually diamonds, uncut diamonds?” Brightly the aura whispered, “Yes. But Brother, do you accept them? Will Sister Abby accept them?”

  “Holy moly, Jose. These are diamonds?” Scotty joined him on the floor. “Yes, Echo,” he shouted. “Yes. We accept. Abby accepts.” Jose picked up Echo and tossed her in the air, much to her delight, auras flashing madly.

  “This means you love me if you accept the diamonds, right, Brothers? I offer you the diamonds as a token of my love.”

  “Gee Echo, does this mean you want to marry us?” Scotty teased.

  “What is marry, Brother Scotty?”

  “It’s when you give diamonds and make a commitment to be together exclusively and protect one another, forever.”

  “I will be happy to marry my Sister and my Brothers. I have already made that commitment when I chose you. We truly will be together forever, except for My Barney. Sadly, I do not have the power to make that happen.”

  “Echo,” Jose asked. “What other powers do you have?” The aura dimmed.

  “I am sorry, Brother, I do not know how to answer that question. I am what I am. I do not recognize what I am as having powers. I am aware that humans are not very evolved yet. It’s quite a disappointment to a minion like me. And then there is the unfortunate mistake. When mistakes are made, the Womb insists we must intervene. The Elders convinced the Womb to allow the mistake to evolve, expecting the eons to smooth out the potential problems. Unfortunately, that did not happen. The Womb is patient, but now it is time to draw the line. With your help, we will do that together.” The aura faded and Echo fell silent.

  Whoa. What the heck does Echo mean, do what with our help? Jose couldn’t imagine what Echo referred to, but he didn’t want to pester her right now. He faced a ton of work. And Echo was clearly proud and excited about her gift of the diamonds. He didn’t want to ruin it for her with intrusive questions. There would be time for that after they had made their escape from this town. Now he must get Abby moving and out of here with the first pieces of gold to sell.

  Chapter 13

  Selecting an attorney had been very simple. They just picked the firm in town with the largest ad in the Internet directory. Pulling up in front of the firm’s office, they realized that large was a relative term.

  The cedar shakes on the one-story shabby building were crying out for a coat of paint, and the law office shared space with a small neglected used car dealer. Oh well, this was a poor rural community. Even though, as the county seat, they had expected something a bit more auspicious from Newtown. They scanned up and down the street as they got out of the Chevy. It looked clear, except for the scruffy white Volkswagen that sat parked near the busy corner that most attorneys used, coming and going from the courthouse parking lot.

  Slipping on their sunglasses, Abby and Jose let themselves into a basic but cheerful reception room, comprised of four yellow plastic chairs and the obligatory sofa table stacked with fairly recent magazines. They gave their name to the pretty young receptionist with a nametag that announced her name to be Tiffany. Jose asked for Mr. Gavin, and Tiffany pleasantly escorted them to Mr. Gavin’s clean but cluttered office. Scanning the room for personal family photos, Abby found nothing that indicated Mr. Gavin’s age.

  While they waited, a man entered to rifle through Mr. Gavin’s files. He appeared to be in his early thirties and a rumpled mess. His big pale moon face with round owl eyes hidden behind even rounder wire-framed glasses gave him a professorial demeanor that his rumpled exterior only enhanced. Nodding to Abby and Jose with a slight shy smile, he hurried out of the office. A few more moments passed before he returned, taking the seat at Mr. Gavin’s desk.

  “Mr. Gavin?” Jose inquired.

  “No—oh no. Mr. Gavin is my father. I’m Peter. Peter Gavin. Please call me Peter,” he invited, his tone self-effacing. “Now, how can I help you, Mr. Diaz?” He looked down to refer to a paper, glancing over to Abby. “And Ms. Preston?”

  As Jose related the parts of their story they had agreed to tell, Abby noticed Peter didn’t even blink when Jose spoke of needing his guidance to dispose of a considerable amount of gold bullion and untold karats of rough uncut diamonds. Abby passed photos of the items in question across Peter’s desk for verification. The photos, taken by Scotty, showed both Abby and Jose in the frame. After listening for half an hour to their plans, Peter, u
ndaunted, announced he was prepared to give his advice.

  “Well, it appears you will both be coming into some sizable assets. First the gold. In all of Sussex County, there are no dealers I am aware of who can handle even one of your pieces, at ten pounds each. I suggest you melt one piece down to a more manageable eight-ounce size. The dealers will have no problem with that. It will give you more than enough cash to begin your plans. My office will file all the necessary papers to the government and make sure all applicable taxes are paid. The bulk of your gold assets will need to be sold in Manhattan and other major metro cities—I hesitate to use just one dealer. And you do not want to flood the local market all at once. I believe we should make some inquiries in India, another wonderful source of eager gold dealers. One of the problems I see here is the necessity to carry the gold personally to the dealers and negotiate a price. If, as you say, you don’t want to handle the task yourself, you must hire a bonded agent to do the work for you. That can be quite expensive.” Blushing, Peter looked down at his paperwork. “Of course, it appears you wouldn’t have a problem with that. I beg your pardon.”

  “Now the diamonds are another matter. To get your best price, it would be wise to participate in an auction. You may or may not know, but diamonds are very much regulated and tightly controlled by the big diamond families out of South Africa and the cartels in South America. The provenance of a diamond is also critical.”

  Noting their puzzled looks, he hastened to explain. “Their history . . . their place of origination. As that seems to be a bit of a problem for you, I would like to suggest you invest more time in this part of your endeavor. I need to do a bit of research, but I am sure it would be much easier to dispose of some of the stones, if we could locate a craftsman who could cut them for you. A finished stone of a smaller size, even a few karats, will not attract the kind of scrutiny you are looking to avoid. The stones will be much easier to protect than the gold, due to their smaller mass. Again, I see the need to hire someone trustworthy to expedite the process for you.”