“Yes.”
She put her hands on her hips and sniffed. “You seem a little taller than before...”
She drew her pistol out and aimed it at him. “...but still so mouthy...”
Gerald held up his old translator in his grip. “Trahzi, now!”
* * *
There was a flash of flame, and Lyssandra found herself high in the atmosphere, standing atop a floating island of weli’hi, pointing her pistol at a thousand pounds of fireworks, ready to detonate. The timer clicked down, 2...1...
“Oh Frakk!”
* * *
The night sky above the temple came alive with a bright pyrotechnic display that illuminated the grounds brighter than midday. Dragons and serpents made of fire and light flew and slithered. White birds made of flame soared, and the great tree of Y’tzuma popped to life in green and amber explosions. The black pirate ship, heavily laden with treasure, shot up into the sky, frantic to escape before the system patrols caught up with them.
* * *
Inside the interrogation room, Detective Matrov paced around Gerald and Ilrica as they sat in the uncomfortable metal chairs. Ilrica was aloof, but Gerald was sweating.
“We’ve found evidence of seventeen separate explosive devices placed throughout the city’s power and defense grid,” he explained as images of the explosion sites played out in the air before them. “The entire matrix was taken down. Even the backup systems. This was no accident. Someone deliberately sabotaged the temple complex and the surrounding city defenses just moments before the pirates arrived. One of the most heavily fortified planets in the core, and they just waltzed in here like it was nothing. You two made us all look like fools, and you will pay dearly for it.”
“We already told you, we were only there for a prank,” Ilrica restated, her tail whipping about nonchalantly. “We were just trying to reshape the temple grounds to look like a traditional Eldireer Festival. Check the command inputs, you’ll see that is all we were doing.”
“I already have. The records do corroborate your story, but records can be falsified. With all the damage we can’t compare the files to the backups, and that is awfully convenient as far as you’re concerned. The part that I just can’t get past is that the two of you were in there at the very moment as the bombs went off, the defense systems went down, and the pirates attacked. Now, that seems like one trell of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
“I know it might seem unbelievable, but things like that happen to me all the time,” Gerald admitted. “Sometimes I think I’m cursed or something.”
“Oh, you are cursed all right,” Martrov said coldly, “because you are going to spend the rest of your natural life in prison for terrorism.”
“I am an Exeter Student. Don’t I have diplomatic immunity?” Ilrica asked.
The Detective snarled. “Yes, you do.”
“Then there’s really nothing more to say. I’m outta here.”
Ilrica and Gerald stood up.
“You stay where you are, human.”
“But...”
“But nothing. I can’t charge her but I can certainly charge you. Your world doesn’t have a functioning government, which means you don’t have diplomatic immunity. Now sit back down.”
Gerald sat back down, quite fearful for his future. As Ilrica walked out, she looked back at him sadly.
As soon as the door closed, the detective switched tactics. “Look, you’re a young kid, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. There’s no need for you to take the heat for this. Tell me what you know; agree to testify against the Bertulf, and we’ll drop the charges against you.”
Gerald was confused. “You know, I was with her most of the day. There is no way she could have set those explosives.”
The detective ran through the security footage of Gerald and Ilrica at the bar, at the arcade, at the park, and at the hotel. “Look at this!” he snorted. “Don’t you see, kid? It’s obvious that she was going out of her way to create an alibi. She cheesed off just about everyone you guys came in contact with today so they’d remember her being there. She knows that if we took her to court, she’d have a roomful of witnesses on her side.”
“Well then, if the evidence says she couldn’t have done it, you should be looking for a new suspect. That is how detectives are supposed to work, isn’t it?”
“You idiot, she’s a time-bender. She could have left to set the explosives at any moment. You could have been looking right at her when she did it and never even noticed. Heck, the cameras probably couldn’t even have picked it up.
“Well now you are just being paranoid.”
Matrov held up his hands. “She’s a Bertulf!”
“And you’re a bigot! It’s perfectly obvious to me that you’re so hopelessly prejudiced against her that you decided she’s guilty before you even looked at the evidence. You look at footage of a student going out on a date, who just happens to be a little rough around the edges, and all you see is a Bertulf terrorist. Her people aren’t exactly known for their social graces, sure, but I am sick and tired of watching you people treat them like criminals. You Alliance types practically break your own arms patting yourselves on the back over how tolerant you are, but you only grant that tolerance to the people you approve of.”
The detective leaned in close. “And what about you, human?” He spat the word as if it were an insult. “Are you sure you’re not just being blind to the truth because she’s your classmate?”
He rewound the footage to their ping pong game from earlier. In one frame, Ilrica’s image blurred as she bent time, but the blur didn’t seem to be pointing towards the ball, it almost looked like it was pointing towards the exit.
“Ask yourself, what do you really know about Ilrica Faolan?”
Gerald looked at the image, then back at the detective. “I know that she’s young and vibrant. I know that she insists on having fun. I know that she grabs life by the throat and shapes her own destiny. She doesn’t wait around for happiness to come to her; she goes out and hunts it down. I know that she has a deep sense of honor and a soft heart that she tries to hide. I know that she bears your racist treatment of her with more dignity than you deserve.”
“Look, I don’t have to argue this with you. You’re about to spend the rest of your life in prison. Just testify against her and you can go free.”
“I don’t think she did it. And even if I did, I’d never throw a friend under the bus.”
“She’s not your friend. She’s a Bertulf.”
“I know she’s not my friend. That is her choice. But I am hers; that is my choice. At no point is she required to return the sentiment.”
* * *
Unbeknownst to either of them, Ilrica was standing out in the hallway, her keen wolf-like ears picking up every word with perfect clarity. As she listened to Gerald defend her, she swished her tail indifferently.
“You know, Dyson,” she said to herself. “You really are an idiot. If you had betrayed me you could have gone free.” There was a tender look in her eyes. “But... sometimes... just sometimes... you have kind of a lone-wolf thing going for you. It’s almost like...”
Ilrica could feel herself blush a little as she thought about the time she had spent with Gerald that day. She couldn’t recall the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. Her two hearts were beating fast in her chest. She absentmindedly reached up with one claw and started twirling the fur behind her ear.
“What is that smell?” a female police officer said as she walked by, looking around.
A cop poked his nose up from his cubicle and sniffed. “Yeah, I smell it too. It’s kinda... sugary. Is someone baking?”
Ilrica covered her mouth with embarrassment and ran to the women’s bathroom as fast as she could. Inside, she locked herself into a private stall and looked into the mirror. No wonder the others had noticed. Her face was flush, her pupils dilated, her breathing a short energetic pant. Her tail swept rhythmically from side to side.
<
br /> She slapped her cheeks. “Okay girl, get it together. This is ridiculous. This is stupid. He’s a human, and we don’t go into heat over a human.”
She turned on the sink and doused her whole head with cold water. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening...”
She stood back up and shook her fur dry. “This isn’t what it looks like, okay? You’re just... feeling a little under the weather, that’s all. Yeah, that must be it. Stress. You’re getting sick. He’s just a hairless little grass-eater. It’s not like you want him to... kiss you...”
In her imagination, Gerald walked up behind her, the rippling muscles of his shirtless back glistening with sweat. Slowly he reached forward with his strong tanned arms from behind and wrapped them around her athletic waist. His chin ended up right at the nape of her neck, his breath tickling her fur, sending shivers down her spine. Her knees went limp. Her body lost its strength. She could feel herself yearning for his lips against hers. Hungry for it, even. In her imagination, she melted into him.
As she stood there in front of the mirror, Ilrica got goose bumps from head to toe. She could actually see herself swoon just thinking about him. Her body involuntarily released even more of the sweet scent into the air, and she flushed even deeper than before.
Her eyes went wide as saucers. “Oh crap! Oh no, no, no, no, NO!”
* * *
In a nearby interrogation room, Cha’Rolette and Zurra sat indignantly. Their dresses were torn and charred, their hair burnt and smoking. A layer of ferrocrete dust clung to every inch of them. The new young detective was at a complete loss as to how to handle them.
I have nothing to say around HER, Cha’Rolette sniffed, turning her back to Zurra.
“Well, talk to me then,” Detective Muiller said irritably. “You two wrecked an entire city block, and you won’t even tell me why? It’s a miracle nobody was killed.”
I’ll pay for my half of the damages, of course, it’s only pocket change to me. Cha’Rolette looked at Zurra sidelong. But she will probably have to setup a payment plan.
“Oh, get off your high-horse, Ssykes,” Zurra said icily, turning her back away from her. “You’re not the only one with money, you know? I can pay my half perfectly fine. The squeaky wheel gathers no moss, after all.”
Cha’Rolette looked at Muiller harshly. You have our I.D.’s, so let us go. I shan’t spend another minute in her malodorous presence.
The young detective balled his fists, then had an idea and cracked a grin. “Well, you see, you may have diplomatic immunity, but with all the damage, I’m afraid it may take us a while to process it. In the meantime, I’ll be placing you in holding. Cooperate, and I might be able to speed up the process.”
You’re obviously new, Cha’Rolette sniffed as he walked out of the room.
“I’ll give you two a minute to think about it,” he said, slamming the door.
Cha’Rolette crossed her arms. This is insufferable! I’m a Ssykes. How dare they lock me in a room here with you! I’d leave right now if it wouldn’t rob me of the pleasure of watching that detestable little detective thrown out into the street.
“Don’t you ever shut up? You know, you’re not the only one whose night was ruined. I spent a long time picking out that dress for him, and now it’s all torn up.”
Cha’Rolette tugged at the charred collar of her ruined kimono. One of the headband’s cat-ears had been burned off, the other hung by a thread. Custom-made by the finest seamstress, and for what? A night of being grilled next to you by some trat-foot?
Zurra stuck her fingers together and stretched them apart. “I don’t think Geri appreciates all that I do for him. I spend a lot of time keeping up my personal appearance, and he has never once mentioned on how nice I look.”
He’s complimented my looks before. Even said my beauty robbed him of his wits.
“Shut up, Ssykes.”
The two girls sat there, hating each other. The air was alive with it, sparking about, burning out one of the lights above. Finally, it was Cha’Rolette who broke the silence.
You know, you have some nerve. I have to spend hours each day exercising to maintain my figure. You can just mold your body like clay to whatever shape you want. How can you possibly complain, when you have it so much easier than I do?
“Shows what you know. Taking the shape of a rock or a cup is easy. It’s taken me years of practice to perfect my adult form.”
Zurra turned around and rolled up her tattered sleeve. “Look at my forearm. Do you see how, when I wiggle my fingers, you can see the muscles and tendons flex underneath my skin?”
Yeah, so what?
“So, I don’t have tendons and muscles. All of that I simulate to look more realistic. My torso expands when I breathe as if I had lungs and rib bones, by skin pulses as if blood was pumping through my veins. I respirate even though I don’t actually have to. Do you know how much practice and concentration it takes just to realistically sit here and pass for a solid?”
And yet you still just look like a pile of pink goo.
Zurra’s countenance fell and she looked away. “I am just a pile of pink goo. That’s why I try so hard. I want people to see me as one of them.”
Cha’Rolette’s expression softened. You know, you are not a very good rival, admitting all this to me. I could easily use it against you.
Zurra chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Subtlety just isn’t my strong point.”
Obviously.
Zurra looked over harshly. “You know, you could stand to go five minutes without throwing out little barbs at me! You people should be flattered. I, who can be anything, choose to look like you. It should be like the ultimate compliment!”
Cha’Rolette softened further. She closed her eyes and folded her arms. I know, it’s not very ladylike of me. But you have to admit, you started this. I was content to ignore you until you turned this into a competition.
Zurra chuckled sadly and looked at her pink hand. “Competition huh? Yeah, I guess it’s pretty silly. Ninety quadrillion males in the galaxy, and we have to compete over the same one.”
They both chuckled softly at the absurdity of it all.
Cha’Rolette cracked open a playful eye. Don’t be silly. This is not a competition. You never stood a chance.
Zurra got mad and looked over, but then realized that Cha’Rolette was joking. A smile slowly grew across Zurra’s face. “Good one, Ssykes. That was funny.”
Cha’Rolette gave a self-satisfied smile. And you said I couldn’t be fun.
The two young women stared each other down, a little spark of electricity showing the animosity between them, but this time, it was mixed with a little respect as well.
The heavy door opened again and Muiller walked back in holding a cup of steaming hot jaffe. “The guards will be moving you to holding now while we process your identification. That is, unless you have something to say to me.”
Cha’Rolette sat back down, closing her eyes and crossing her arms. I don’t, but I think your supervisor might.
“What?”
Sergeant Schriderr strode in and smacked the young detective upside the head, knocking his Jaffe to the floor. “What are you, stupid?” he yelled.
“I was just...”
Schriderr grabbed Muiller by the collar and pulled him in close. “We don’t put members of the cartel in holding, you trog. Not unless we have a death wish!”
Muiller went white as death. “Wait, are you telling me she’s a Ssykes, like THE Ssykes?”
“Yeah, newbie, she is E’Duwag Honrinar Ssykes’ only daughter, and you just ticked her off.”
The two detectives turned to Cha’Rolette, who had a wry little grin on her lips.
The police couldn’t open the cell doors fast enough. Within thirty seconds, the two women were being escorted past booking, while former Detective Muiller was being tossed out into the street, holding a tiny box with the contents of his desk in them.
“We are so sorry Duchess!” Sergeant Schr
iderr said, bowing as deeply as his fat gut would allow.
“I assure you there will be no mention of this on any official records,” Commissioner Rayson promised from behind his thick mustache.
“Right,” Schriderr added. “Your name won’t be mentioned anywhere. You were never here.”
Cha’Rolette snatched her burnt parasol out of his grip. See that it doesn’t.
“Yes, ma’am, thank you ma’am,” the men said in unison.
Suddenly Cha’Rolette’s ta’atu flashed and she walked over to one of the interrogation rooms. Inside, she could see Gerald in shackles as a detective yelled at him.
Commissioner, may I ask what is going on in there?
“That? Oh, we believe the human was attached to the bombings. We don’t have enough evidence to pin it on him, but we don’t have to either. He was found trespassing inside a restricted Ssykes facility. That’s enough for fifty cycles at least.”
Cha’Rolette raised her hand and the door opened before her. Detective Matrov was a little surprised to see her, Gerald was shocked.
As Cha’Rolette walked in, Gerald moved to speak, but found that invisible hands were covering his mouth.
Detective Matrov, am I to understand that this young man is to be prosecuted for trespassing?
Matrov glanced at the Commissioner, suddenly unsure. “Um, yes, ma’am. It’s an open and shut case. The evidence against him is rock-solid. We have security footage, eyewitness testimony, and his own admission.”
Cha’Rolette looked at Gerald, disappointed. He admitted to going in there?
“He said he wasn’t going to lie,” Matrov said, shaking his head disbelieving as he made a mark on his tablet.
Cha’Rolette narrowed her voice to Gerald only. I’m sorry to do this to you, but this is the only way I can help.
Detective, I have some new evidence to bring to your investigation, she announced to everyone.
“You do?”
“Do you know this young man, Duchess?” The Commissioner asked.
Yes, he is my classmate. My stupid... stupid classmate. What’s important, though, is that he is also my employee.
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