“Who’s Freya?” she asked.
“My late wife,” said Adolphus Kone. “May she rest in peace.”
Danny lowered his head in sympathy.
“Rosalind,” I asked, “how are you and Cornell related to Boss Kone? Danny said Kone adopted you.”
“He did,” said Rosalind. “Our parents were Dolph’s business partners back when EUA Corporation was still Terra of the Galaxy, Incorporated, a small e-commerce company selling Earth-legislators’ memorabilia.”
“What happened to your folks?” asked Poly gently.
“They were crushed near the current site of the Ad Astra complex,” said Cornell. “Some dim-bulb from an on-line brokerage thought it would be a good idea to have an uberbull twice the size of a Tōdon walk down Peachtree Street for a First Contact Day parade. It was supposed to celebrate the rise in Earth’s stock markets or something. The uberbull went berserk when he saw a family of Musans watching from the curb. Our parents never had a chance. Rosey and I were down the block with Uncle Dolph and Aunt Freya getting cloud candy. We saw it happen.” He seemed numb as he relived the painful day.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
I’d been so love-struck when I first met Rosalind, and in so much shock when I first met Max that I’d never asked Rosalind about her family.
“Now you know why EUA Corporation is dedicated to establishing Earth’s hegemony over the mongrel species of the galaxy,” said Boss Kone. “The General showed me his vision of a Terran-led empire where things like that can’t happen—where the human race is in charge!”
That wasn’t the lesson I would have taken from the wild uberbull incident, which seemed like a classic case of human stupidity. Unfortunately, Boss Kone and his boss didn’t seem to be playing with full decks and interpreted things differently.
Kone scanned down the table and fixed Cornell and Rosalind in his increasingly crazed gaze.
“I can understand those fools from C&C switching sides,” Kone said, “But why did you—my own family—turn against The General?”
“After Winfield and Johnson’s jet was shot down,” said Rosalind, “we thought he wanted to kill us.”
“No,” said Kone, “he wanted to kill Winfield and Johnson for their many failures.”
“But he shot missiles at our shuttles going to and from the Charalindhri,” said Poly.
“He wanted to send a message, but he didn’t want to kill you,” said Kone. “If he’d wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”
“What a cheerful thought,” said Pomy.
“Hah,” said Kone. “The other sister heard from. You made a good distraction, my dear, with your little mockery of a trial. It kept you and your meddling friends from realizing The General’s plans for the pink princess and the G70 delegates.”
“My mom and dad are going to stomp your butt!” cried Terrhi from her spot on the floor.
“Silence, child,” said Boss Kone with icy calm, “or I’ll send your parents one of your sub-trunks—or your kitty-cat’s tail—to help them understand the gravity of the situation.”
Terrhi closed her mouth and began to tremble. I wished I was free so I could hug her and tell her I’d make everything better, but neither one of those was a viable option at the moment.
Danny Figueres had moved a few steps away from Boss Kone. It seemed like the more he’d heard from his mentor, the less he’d liked. Camilla Moultrie stayed near Boss Kone, watching Danny closely and keeping her hand in her suit jacket pocket.
I felt pressure on the duct tape holding my torso to the back of my chair and remembered Chit had sharp mandibles. I took a deep breath and felt the tape on my left side start to give. Surreptitiously freeing my body was one thing, but it would be a lot harder for Chit to release my arms without being seen.
Someone else knocked on the door behind Kone. They didn’t wait for an invitation to enter. The Bulldog strode in like she owned the place. For all I knew, maybe she did. She gave her father a dutiful peck on the cheek and crossed to give Danny a hug and a much longer kiss.
“Welcome!” said Adolphus.
“Shush, Father, I’m busy,” said his daughter.
“Te amo, my little Valkyrie,” said Figueres.
“Te amo, Daniel,” said Brunhilde Dagomar, accenting the last syllable. “I’ve missed you.”
She kissed him again.
The two were mismatched for height, but seemed a good fit otherwise. I kept thinking there was something familiar about Kone’s daughter, but didn’t know what. I knew I’d figure it out eventually.
After a ten-count, Daniel and the Bulldog came up for air.
“Who are all these people and why are they taped to chairs?” said Brunhilde Dagomar in her witness-interrogator’s voice.
“I’m glad you asked,” said her father, “and I’m glad you’re here to see The General’s plans come to fruition at last.”
“Daddy, you’re sounding nuttier than a fruitcake,” said the Bulldog. “Why are you still listening to that megalomaniacal Terran chauvinist?”
Boss Kone was spared the need to answer by the door to the outside corridor opening. I heard a voice I knew well.
“Get your hands off Aunt Sally!” shouted Max.
“Shut up, kid,” said the larger guard from outside.
He was limping as he dragged Sally and Max into the room.
That’s my boy!
“Mommy! Daddy!” said Max.
I was closest so he ran to me, climbed into my lap, and cuddled ferociously. Chit took advantage of Max’s body screening one of my arms to start cutting the duct tape holding it to the chair.
“Dad?” said Sally, looking at Adolphus Kone.
She saw the Bulldog holding hands with Danny Figueres.
“Sis?”
“Hiya, Squirt,” said the Bulldog.
“Who are you calling a squirt, munchkin? I’m two inches taller than you and and have been since we were twelve.”
“It would have been more fun to be identicals than fraternals,” said the Bulldog.
“Yeah, but then Daddy would have insisted on me being a lawyer, too,” said Sally.
“Right,” said the Bulldog, “just to psych out opposing counsel by double-teaming them.”
“I’d rather be dancing,” said Sally.
“Some days, so would I,” the Bulldog replied.
“So you finally fell for Danny?” said Sally.
“I did that years ago,” said the Bulldog. “I just had to make my case to him so he’d look at me instead of those models he was dating.”
“Just because a quantitative PhD looks good in a bikini doesn’t make her a model,” said Danny, grinning.
“Just because you tried to hide your attraction to me doesn’t mean you were any good at it,” said Brunhilde Dagomar.
“Nolo contendere,” said Danny.
“Excuse me,” said Boss Kone. “That’s quite enough. I suppose you’re all wondering why The General gathered you here today.”
Poly, Pomy, and Emma Ann unsuccessfully tried to stifle giggles at Kone’s melodramatic trope. I encouraged Max to move his body with subtle shifts of my chest and shoulders so he hid my other forearm from view and wondered what my phone was up to.
“Mr. Kone,” said Poly. “You can stop the masquerade. We know who The General is.”
“We do?” asked Pomy.
“Who is it?” asked Emma Ann.
“He is,” said Poly, pointing at Adolphus Kone with her chin. It was the only part of her body she could currently point with.
Everyone—even the guards and Camilla Moultrie—stared at Kone.
“If you’re The General,” said Cornell, “who’s Manny?”
“Don’t you get it, bro,” said Rosalind. “He’s Manny. Remember, Manuel Garcia O’Kelly-Davis was human, not an A.I.”
“Damn,” said Cornell. “Uncle Dolph is The General.”
“You’re kidding,” said the Bulldog. “Gudrun, tell Rosalind and Cornell they’re wrong.�
��
Gudrun? Was that Sally’s real name?
“Dad,” said Sally, “Why are you pretending to be some sort of senior military officer?”
“I never said I was in the military,” answered Kone.
“But Rosalind says you’re The General,” said Brunhilde Dagomar.
“The General Counsel of EUA Corporation,” her father replied.
A series of exclamations based on the letter between N and P circled the room.
“You mean you really are?” asked Sally. “You’re the megalomaniac? Looks like I was smart to move to Vegas.”
“You and Rosalind and Cornell still work for the company,” said Kone.
“I work with Rosalind and Cornell—I don’t work for you,” said Sally. Or was it Gudrun?
“Daddy, why do you want to take over the galaxy?” asked the Bulldog.
“It’s the only way for Earth to be secure and ensure a healthy Terran economy,” said Adolphus. “I’m doing it for you and your sister and Rosalind and Cornell—and my grandson.”
“Nonsense,” said the Bulldog. “You’re doing it for yourself—and Cornell and Rosalind can barely stand you anymore. She doesn’t want Max to have anything to do with you.”
“But think what Terra’s hegemony will mean for business,” Adolphus protested.
“Balderdash,” said the Bulldog. “Thanks to free trade with other species, the economy has never been stronger.”
“And besides,” said Sally, “if you conquered the galaxy, you’d have to run it, and that’s a thankless task if I ever heard one.”
“I think he’s got control issues,” said Cornell.
“Shut up,” said Adolphus. “But you’re right. I do have control issues. Thankfully, I am in complete control of the current situation. Once I present my ultimatum to the G70 representatives and eliminate the queen of Dauush, her sister will become queen. She will build me the weapons I’ll need to enforce my rule.”
“Over my dead body!” shouted Terrhi from the floor where she was bound.
“That’s the plan,” said Boss Kone.
Terrhi didn’t shake this time. She stared back up at Kone, looking resolute.
“Why did you ever buy him that biography of Napoleon?” Sally asked Brunhilde.
“I didn’t buy it,” said Brunhilde. “It must have been mom.”
“It doesn’t matter who bought it,” said Adolphus. “The man had vision. Look!”
The smart wall shimmered and changed from showing a project plan to displaying views of other rooms in the seventy-story EUA General Destruction robot. Other conference rooms held collections of G70 attendees bound with duct tape. Yellow sticky notes still blocked small squares of the screen and made me smile despite the circumstances. As the smart wall switched from view to view I even saw what looked like a loading dock holding the Tōdon delegation.
“These delegates will make excellent hostages for the good behavior of their planetary governments,” said Kone. “As will your friends and their friends here with you.”
“Dad,” said Brunhilde. “It will never work.”
“Thankless child,” said Boss Kone. His face was as red as Mistress Marigold’s. “If you and your sister and Rosalind and Cornell are against me, you can face the same fate that’s in store for the Dauushan girl, Scott Winfield and Josephine Johnson.”
“Death to traitors?” I asked.
“Precisely,” said Kone.
And I thought Poly and Pomy’s father was bad…
The door behind Kone eased open quietly and I watched my phone scuttle in at floor level. Winfield and Johnson were behind it. Two more guard-types not wearing EUA uniforms were with them. My phone must have been relaying what was said in this conference room out to the former Chapultepec & Castle executives and their hired bravos. Winfield and Johnson held sugar shockers in their hands and slug throwers stuck in their belts. The guards with them were similarly armed. The four newcomers sweetened the four guards and Camilla Moultrie in five quick bursts. All their targets stood as still as frozen statues.
I took advantage of the confusion to stand up, ripping the weakened tape from my chest and arms. Max slid off my disappearing lap, ducking down, and running under the conference table. I dove under the table to join him. I could see Poly’s feet moving as she pushed off and sent her chair careening back-first in the direction of Winfield and Johnson. I heard a blast from a sugar shocker, but could still see Poly’s legs kicking.
Bavarian rolled her chair close to me and whispered. I reached up and found her variable beam congruency-powered laser where she’d told me to find it. I used the laser to cut her bonds, then freed Terrhi, Spot and Spike on the floor without being noticed in the chaos. More carefully placed beams of coherent light sliced through the glass of the bell jars holding Mistress Marigold’s mobile-plant pets.
I looked up from under the table and saw Roger Joe-Bob Bacon extruding extra tentacles and using them to rip his own tape off while the mini-Drees were releasing Mistress Marigold. Shuvvath flexed to lift his front limbs off their protective metal covers and used his scimitar-like forearms to free himself and the human employees of Xenotech Support Corporation. The two Tigrammath professors, Bart and Niaowla, found their own approach to escape their bonds. They used their freakish feline-like strength to snap lengths of duct tape and rip it off their bodies, along with two-inch strips of striped fur. Boss Kone’s irrational hatred of aliens had led him to underestimate them.
I poked my head above the tabletop, ready to zap Winfield and Johnson’s weapons with Bavarian’s laser when I froze without being hit be a sweetener. Josephine Johnson had pulled Emma Ann’s chair to her and was holding a slug thrower to her head. Winfield was doing the same to Boss Kone.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” said Johnson.
I duck-walked out from under the conference table and stood, leaving Bavarian’s laser on the floor and putting my empty hands over my head.
“Here I am,” I said. “Now what?”
“Now you and Poly and your phone can witness Adolphus signing over full control of EUA Corporation and all its subsidiaries to us,” said Winfield. “That was the deal.”
“That was the deal?” I asked my phone, which was now on top of the conference table.
“Correct,” it said.
I extracted Poly from her duct-tape cocoon, then took my Swiss Army knife back from the frozen guard who’d confiscated it.
“It’s got a pen,” I said. “Do you have the documents?”
“We will in a second,” said Johnson.
She pointed her slug thrower at the nearest window and pulled the trigger. The window shattered and the drone waiting outside came in, dropped an envelope on the conference table, and left.
Winfield forced Boss Kone to sit at the table with the papers in front of him. My unbound friends stood away from us and quietly helped untape the others. I couldn’t see Max, Terrhi, Bavarian or their pets but assumed they were keeping out of sight under the table.
“You know that any contract signed under duress is not binding, right?” asked the Bulldog.
Johnson stroked her slug thrower. “He’s not signing under duress, though, is he?”
“I guess not,” the Bulldog, eying Johnson’s gun uneasily.
I heard a whirring sound outside the open window.
“Are you expecting another delivery?” I asked the C&C executives.
“No, these are all the required documents,” said Winfield.
“Good to know,” I said.
I saw a familiar white flying car hovering just outside the room. Chilly—looking like Ryan Reynolds—was driving. And my mother was riding shotgun.
Chapter 47
“I once defenestrated a guy. The cops got all pissed off at me.”
— John Sandford
Winfield and Johnson didn’t see the car hovering outside the window. They were too focused on persuading Adolphus Kone to sign the agreements and didn’t have the right
angle to see the vehicle once it pulled a few feet back from the shattered pane. Poly had spotted my mother and Chilly, however, and she squeezed my hand to confirm she’d seen them.
Adolphus Kone was sitting at the end of the conference table near the broken window. He slumped down like his favorite sportsball team had just lost a championship. Wind whistled in through the empty space where the tinted window glass had been, forcing Winfield to rest one palm on the loose documents so they wouldn’t blow away. His other hand held the muzzle of a slug thrower against Boss Kone’s left temple.
They hadn’t needed the pen in my Swiss Army knife—Winfield had a Mont Blanc pen and thought a fine writing instrument was a better choice for such a high-priced transaction. I thought the symbolism of using a pen that was also a knife made a lot of sense, but it wasn’t my decision.
Johnson was providing the Secret CEO of EUA Corporation with more incentive to sign. She had traded Emma Ann in for the Bulldog and was standing to Boss Kone’s right with the point of her slug thrower under Brunhilde Dagomar’s chin. The two guards who’d entered with Winfield and Johnson were covering Poly and me with sugar shockers. Every few seconds they would wave their weapons around to ensure none of the other sentients in the room caused trouble.
“Just sign,” said Winfield. “You won’t be broke. You’ve got to have money stashed away.”
Adolphus moved his head from side to side in a slow rhythm, as if he didn’t want to hear what Winfield was saying.
“Listen up, Kone,” said Johnson. “I’ll put this in simple terms. Your company or her life.”
Johnson jammed her slug thrower into the soft skin of the Bulldog’s neck, making Brunhilde Dagomar cry out.
“Well?” said Johnson when Adolphus didn’t respond.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” Kone said.
“Think faster,” said Winfield.
Enough time for two deep breaths passed without anything happening. When I inhaled a third time, I thought I smelled something burning—then everything happened all at once.
“Yeeeeeowch!” screamed Johnson.
She had dropped her slug thrower on the conference table and was hopping up and down on one foot, clutching the other foot with both hands. A second later she tugged off her smoldering pump and threw the offending shoe across the room.
Xenotech General Mayhem: A Novel of the Galactic Free Trade Association (Xenotech Support Book 4) Page 39