Kren of the Mitchegai

by Leo Frankowski

  While waiting for her to regain consciousness, Bronki looked around the shop.

  "She really does very nice work. With the right training, I think that she could become a truly fine artist. I want you to be sure not to kill her, Kren."

  "I hadn't intended to."

  "Excellent. Good artists are really very rare. Oh, here's your brand, Kren. I think that you might be well advised to take it back with you, since it wouldn't be a good idea for you to trust her again."

  "Agreed. She's coming around."

  "Right. Now then, my fine young artist, besides failing to give Kren here the anesthetic that he paid for, you also kept a copy of his credit card number, and you sold that number to someone. We would like to know why you did that, and who you sold the number to."

  "I don't know what you're talking about!"

  "Yes, you do. We know that you know, and you know that we know that you know. Now, tell us who they are."

  "I can't do that. They'd kill me if I told you."

  "Perhaps, but they would have to catch you first, whereas we have already caught you. In addition, our methods will probably be a lot more painful than theirs might be. Please reconsider."

  "You don't know who you're messing with, lady!"

  "True. But then, neither do you. Kren, please hurt her."

  "With pleasure!"

  Kren picked up a branding plate from the shelf and took it to the induction furnace.

  "No, use this one instead," Bronki said, handing him a different branding plate. "It's realy much nicer."

  "As you wish."

  He placed the branding plate into the oven and pressed a button as he'd seen the brander do. In a moment, the plate was glowing bright yellow. Picking it up with the long pliers, he held it over her chest.

  "Last chance," he said.

  "Don't you see that I can't!"

  "I was hoping that you'd say that."

  Kren placed it carefully over her fourth lung and dropped it. The brander screamed loudly as he counted to ten, and then pulled the brand off the smoking skin.

  Bronki poured some water on the wound and said, "Kren, that scream was one of the nicest I've ever heard! I think I'll put some branding irons around the party snacks the next time I have guests over.

  "Now then, young lady, would you like to tell us what we wish to know?"

  "Go fry your brains!"

  "Kren, again, please. Use this plate."

  The brander proved to be remarkably stubborn, as Kren burned a different brand over her third lung.

  The first two lungs are in back, behind the spinal column. The Mitchegai rib cage is fastened at the neck, and kept centered by the diaphragm.

  It soon became necessary to put two more brands on her abdomen. It was only when he placed a hot branding plate between her legs, searing shut her cloaca, that she finally broke down.

  Like Earthly birds, the female Mitchegai have a single orifice at the bottom for the elimination of dung, urine, and eggs. The males have an additional orifice that periodically sprays small amounts of sperm into the air. The areas concerned with defecation and reproduction are very sensitive on Mitchegai, as they are on humans.

  "Just kill me and get it over with," the brander gasped.

  "My dear, we don't want to kill you. We want to kill the criminals that you gave Kren's number to. Once we're gone, you can go into hiding for a few weeks, and after that, it is most likely that those who might have been after you will be dead, and you will be safe."

  "Why didn't you say that before?"

  "I suppose that I should have, but Kren was having such a nice time. You really picked the wrong person to withhold an anesthetic from," Bronki said.

  "A girl has to have a little fun."

  "And now you've paid for your fun. Well then, who wanted Kren's number?"

  "Kodo," the brander said.

  "Indeed? This is interesting. Now, tell me the whole story from the very beginning. I want you to be very complete, and very honest, because if we decide that you are lying, Kren will turn you over and work on your back side. There is room for six brands back there, and you would find sleeping very difficult for a week or two, if you tell us any lies. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, madam."

  The brander was a half hour getting the whole sordid tale out. It started with her losing a large gambling bet, followed by more betting in a vain attempt to recoup her losses. Soon, she was forced to borrow money, and then to borrow more money to pay back the first loans. Then Kodo had bought up her debts, and at first only wanted a few small favors done, in addition to regular repayments on her debt. In time the favors became larger, and more illegal, and were backed up by Kodo's threat of going to the authorities and telling them of her past crimes, if she didn't commit further ones.

  "I see," Bronki said. "How did they know that Kren was coming here?"

  "I don't think that they did. I think that they were following him. They came in right after he left. They had jimmied my card reader half a year ago, so it always remembers every number that I read through it. It was one of the little favors they had me doing for them."

  "And why did Kodo want to harm me?"

  "You are Bronki, aren't you? You were the only other bidder going up against him on a piece of development property. With you gone, he would have been able to buy it at a much lower price."

  "Yes, the Naga property. I didn't think that Kodo was that serious about buying it. Actually, I'd already submitted my top bid. I wouldn't have gone any higher. There was no need for all of this at all. I guess we can add stupidity to Kodo's other crimes. Okay, you are telling the truth. Kren, unstrap her, and let's get out of here."

  "If I unstrap her, she'll take a shot of anesthetic and be out of her pain. I had to suffer for days."

  "Now, don't be spiteful. You've already given her five brands to your two, and the ones she got were much deeper than usual. Anyway, she has to be able to move in order to go into hiding."

  "If you insist," Kren said.

  "I do. As for you, young lady, remember that it is in your best interest if we kill Kodo. Dead, he won't be able to come after you for betraying him, and furthermore, you will be out from under all of your debts to him. I really like your art work, incidentally. You know where to find me. If you live through this, and should you decide to further your academic study of art, please feel free to look me up. I may be able to help you. I happen to have considerable influence at the university."

  The brander looked at Kren and said, "Is she really serious?"

  "Oddly enough, I believe that she is."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The Welcome Stranger

  New Yugoslavia, 2211 a.d.

  The machinery had been bought from Earth, massive amounts of raw materials had been purchased and stockpiled, the initial work had been done, and the first of sixty ships that would form our Distant Early Warning Sphere, two light-years out from New Yugoslavia's sun, had just been launched. We'd be building about one a week from this time on.

  I felt the need to relax alone and congratulate myself.

  On rare occasions, perhaps once every two months, I like to sit down with a bottle of sour mash bourbon, and drink alone.

  I was indulging in this weakness when a bright blue crab walked into my den. It was as big around as a large dinner plate, fairly thick, and had six very strange legs, but it was a crab.

  I'd seen one once before, on a remote island on my honeymoon. I'd assumed that it was part of the original ecology of New Yugoslavia, even though it wasn't listed as such. I had it put into a carboy of ninety-five percent ethanol to preserve it, intending to ship it to a university for study. Soon, it somehow managed to drink twice its weight of the 190 proof booze, cut a neat, circular hole in the metal lid of the carboy, and then walk back to the ocean.

  So, I was sure that I wasn't hallucinating. But just to be surer, I said, "Agnieshka?"

  "Yeah, I see him too, boss. He's for real," her voice said from what loo
ked like a stand of medieval armor.

  "So. Hi there, little fellow! Are you the same guy that I met on a beach, seven years ago?"

  "In fact, I am, sir," it, or I suppose, he said. "I've long wanted to thank you for your kindness, that day. To find a total, alien stranger, to have the wisdom to understand what I so badly needed, and then to have the kindness to give it to me in such munificent quantities, well, it goes beyond all normal measures of nobility. My offspring and I will forever be in your debt." He said this in perfect Kashubian.

  This left me a bit flustered, first because I was talking to a crab. Then, I'd really expected him to die when I'd had him put in that embalming fluid. I mean, I didn't know that he was intelligent. I'd assumed that he was about as bright as an earthly crab, with all of the intellectual capabilities of a cockroach. This was a fortunate case where my two wrongs added up to a right!

  But it wouldn't be polite to mention that now, and I had the feeling that this would be a very important conversation.

  "You are quite welcome," I said. "I don't have any of that exact mixture around just now, but I am currently drinking something similar. Have you ever tried a Kentucky bourbon whiskey?"

  "No sir, I haven't."

  "Then please be my guest. I think that it might be awkward for you to use a glass. Agnieshka, please get our guest a shallow soup bowl."

  A social drone quickly brought in a bowl, and set it on the table. As I filled it with Jim Beam, the crab easily crawled up a table leg to the table top and then sat down across from the bowl.

  I topped up my glass and said, "To your good health."

  After I'd had a drink, and my guest had drained his bowl, he said, "Now that was interesting, sir. It has a very complex mixture of sugars, esters, and other chemicals mixed in with the basic ethanol and water. Quite tasty, in fact."

  "I'm glad that you like it. I have a wide variety of similar things here. Would you care to try them?"

  "Oh, yes, indeed I would, sir!"

  "As you wish. Agnieshka, let's see what our guest thinks about tequila."

  After a bit more sampling, I said, "You know, my friend, we really haven't been properly introduced. I am General Mickolai Derdowski. I am the military commander on this planet. Who, and what, might you be?"

  "I don't think that a human could pronounce my name without great difficulty, but Bellor might be a close approximation. My race calls itself the Tellefontu, and I am a refugee on your planet. My home planet, along with most of the members of my species, was murdered by a race called the Mitchegai, whom I believe that you have recently heard of."

  "I have, Bellor. There are indications that they are coming this way."

  "Indeed, they are, General Mickolai Derdowski."

  "My friends just call me Mickolai."

  "Thank you, Mickolai. Well, our original plan was to simply lie low on this planet, recoup our numbers, and hope that the Mitchegai did not find it suitable for colonization. Then, your people arrived, and while you inadvertently caused a great deal of damage to the original environment, you were obviously not trying to absolutely destroy it. In fact, you were making efforts to preserve at least some of it. At that point, we decided that you could make at least tolerable neighbors. When you personally demonstrated such extreme wisdom and kindness concerning me, we wondered if we could become friends. We observed that you are really two species living and working together, one biological and one electronic. We reasoned that if you could function as two species, there was every likelihood that you could function as three. Monitoring your communications, we find that you fear our ancient enemies, and that you are preparing to vigorously defend your planets from them. Therefore, we have decided to contact you, and to propose a defensive alliance."

  "That's quite a statement. You must understand that I cannot speak for all of humanity, but insofar as we are talking about the military forces on this one planet, I am the person currently in charge. And yes, faced with an enemy of the size, age and power of the Mitchegai, humanity can certainly use all of the friends it can get! I personally welcome your help!"

  "That is gratifying to hear."

  Agnieshka had been frequently refilling Bellor's soup bowl with different flavors of booze. When she dumped in a small bottle of 190 proof Everclear, something that I had forgotten that we had, Bellor said, "Ah! Now that is the food of the Gods!"

  Pure, industrial grain alcohol, I thought. Yes, that would figure.

  "Good. Glad that you like it. But there is a great deal to be discussed between us. We need to know just what you can do for us, and what you need from us."

  "What we can do for you, aside from advising you on the enemy, teaching you a bit about the sciences, and piloting your fighting machines, is to give you some very useful military technology. You know the hole I made in the container that you put me in, many years ago?"

  "Yes, and I was wondering how you did that."

  "I made it disappear. I did the same thing to some of your window glass, in the next room, to get in here."

  "You did? But that isn't glass. That's a single crystal of diamond."

  "The material isn't important. Only its location matters."

  "We would very much like to have that weapon. Something like it was used to take out thirty-one of our tanks when the alien ship arrived."

  "Something identical to it. The Mitchegai stole that weapon from us, but we will give it to you."

  "Thank you. And what do you need from us?"

  "Could you spare a few hundred tons of Everclear?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  FROM CAPTURED HISTORY TAPES,

  FILE 1846583A ca. 1832 a.d.

  BUT CONCERNING EVENTS OF UP TO

  2000 YEARS EARLIER

  Major Wagers

  The next day, Bronki withdrew her bid on the Naga property. She didn't want any connection with Kodo while she was planning his demise. Also, once he was successfully disposed of, she should be able to buy the property at bargain rates at his estate sale.

  Two weeks went by with nothing more eventful happening than a pleasant academic party with a dozen guests and four party snacks. Bronki really did provide electrically heated irons, and they were a big hit. One guest, a professor of physiology, won the prize for best scream by inserting a cold iron into a girl's cloaca, and then plugging it in.

  Besides the delightful screaming, a few of the guests even said that they liked the flavor of the cooked meat. Bronki was confident that she had started a new fad, and was enjoying the social prestige that such a thing gave her.

  At both the college and at the athletic department, Kren's instructors seemed pleased with him.

  The only sour point had been their visit to the target range. Kren found that while he knew the theory and operation of a pistol perfectly, he was a truly terrible shot.

  With a spear or javelin, he could hit a target the size of his hand at a gross yards. With a pistol, he could hit a target the size of an adult Mitchegai at six yards only on the rarest of occasions. After exhausting most of his ammunition, he gave up in disgust.

  Bronki said, "Well, I guess that the Greenie you ate was just a lousy shot!"

  "Apparently! I should have taken a bite out of the mugger!"

  "It couldn't possibly have made you a worse shot with a pistol. However, eating a bit of someone who is a very good shot might be a bit problematic, as I expect that such a person would be very difficult to kill."

  Bronki tried a few shots with her new spring knife, and was very pleased with the results. At anything less than a dozen yards, it would prove very deadly, indeed.

  Kren sold the pistol and its accessories at the range store for a dozen and eight gross Ke, in currency. They didn't deal in plastic money there.

  On the way home, Bronki said, "Kren, I think that I might have been over hasty in advising you not to use the credit cards you got from those muggers. For one thing, there is over four dozen thousand Ke in those three accounts, a remarkable amount for mere muggers t
o have saved."

  "They were apparently very successful in their line of business."

  "I imagine so, until the very end, of course. There has been no activity with any of the accounts since you obtained the cards, and no inquiries have been made concerning them. Now, an organization like the KUL would have been concerned about any missing members, but if these muggers really were independents, it could be that nobody cares about them."

  "And you have a suggestion?" Kren asked.

  "Yes. What I could do would be to arrange for a series of complicated transfers to be made through a number of dummy corporations that I control, before transferring the money to your account. I think that it would probably be safe enough."

  "I see. And you would expect a fee for this?"

  "Three dozen per gross would be standard," she said.

  "Could you settle for two?" Kren asked.

  "For a good friend like you, certainly."

  Bronki computed that with this fee, she had recouped her initial investment in Kren in less than four weeks, and was starting to make a nice profit on him.

  "Then please do these financial things and get me the money. I expect to need it soon."

  "You are going to bet on your performance in the upcoming competition?" Bronki said.

  "Of course."

  "The odds against you winning the distance throw are currently eleven to one. That's quite low, considering that there will be over three dozen contestants, and you have never been in competition before. The word on your throwing must have gotten out."

  "Do you know my odds on the accuracy competition?" He asked.

  "They are currently much better, a dozen and nine to one. The actual payoff will depend on the odds at the start of the competition, of course."

  "Then I will bet all of my money on the accuracy competition." Kren was not yet sufficiently confident of his abilities with an épée to wager on the outcome of that event, and the javelin tennis game had too large of an element of luck for Kren to take any serious risks with it.

  "Don't bet everything, Kren. Save a little as a cushion. No competition is ever certain," she said.