Surveying the destruction, he pressed the button on his bracelet and moments later he was lifted into the landing boat. He was greeted by Phildan and an automech, which was holding a change of clothes.
“Hey Phil, I managed to save your bowl. You got any soup left?”
“I, uh, yes. Thank you. The automech can show you how to use the refresher facility while I get you a clean bowl.”
“Thanks buddy. We're gonna have to find a new island.” Frank followed the robot into the makeshift restroom that Phildan had installed on his behalf. He found himself wondering how and where Phil relieved himself. He handed his soiled clothing to the automech as the mechanisms cleaned him. He came away feeling somewhat clean but noted to himself that it certainly was no replacement for a proper shower.
He reentered the common area as Phildan was viewing the recording of the battle. He stood quietly and viewed his own ferocity with awe.
“That's straight out of a kung fu movie.”
Phildan picked up his pad, searching for the meaning of a kung fu movie, and then nodded in agreement. “Alright now, let us finally have a look at your phone.”
As he was handing it over, Frank asked, “Where's the nearest liquor store?”
“I only know of one, but I can get us there fairly quickly.”
Within ten minutes, Frank was dropping down to the same store where he had previously purchased the twelve pack of beer. This time, however, he opted for the largest bottle of rum they had, and he replenished his supply of cigars. He walked out behind the building and lit one up. A couple of vagrants caught his attention as he pulled the cap off of the large bottle. They raised their brown paper bag covered bottles in a salute before they all had a drink together. Frank chugged thirstily and stopped only to take a breath before downing a full half of the jug. The homeless men looked on in astonishment as Frank then took a big pull from the cigar. He extinguished the cigar, nodded a farewell to the silent vagrants, and pushed the button. He seemed to them to fly away, leaving only a cloud of drunken confusion in his wake.
Frank was drunk for all of ten minutes before his implant healed him of any intoxication. If anything, it would sure keep him out of trouble, not that he was the type to be drunken and disorderly. But he could still dream. Phildan appeared and handed his phone back.
“There you go. It is now untraceable and you should have a better call signal here on the landing boat.”
“You, sir, are amazing.”
“Thank you very much for saying so.” Phildan was now dark purple.
Frank pulled up his call log and found the number and hit the call button. “Sir, we need to meet. You should probably get out of Washington anyway. Here's the address....”
10.
“Well, it looks like we have a couple of days to kill. The president said he needs time to prepare security, or some shit.” Frank was talking to whomever happened to be listening.
“So, what do you want to do?” Phildan asked.
“My place probably isn't safe. Maybe we should go furniture shopping.”
“I don't understand.”
“There's no place to sit down in here. And I don't look forward to trying to sleep on that table in there.”
“Oh, I see. I usually just curl up on the floor. It never occurred to me to get anything to sleep on. And my suit keeps me comfortable also.”
“I got two words for you, Phil. Memory foam.”
“That sounds delightful.”
“But it's your boat. I don't want to try to switch shit up on you.”
The orb then reappeared. “We actually have six landing boats, Frank. You can claim this one for yourself if you wish. Feel free to make any changes that suit you.”
“Wow. Thanks! But I don't even know how this thing works.”
“That's what I'm here for, sir.” Phildan snapped to attention.
“I appreciate that, Phil, really, but you aren't my servant. I don't ever want you to act like anything less than my equal. If anything you're far above me.”
“For the duration of this endeavor, I am more than happy to pilot your boat for you.”
“Right on. Thanks buddy. I know the perfect place to get what we need.” He pulled out his phone.
“Where would that be?”
“I'll just have Terrelle get it for us! Does this thing have a regular door?”
* * *
“It looks like we still have a couple of days to kill. Terrelle needs time to make the arrangements.”
“There's still the matter of the one Mingrein that was left on the island.” Gladosanthos reminded him.
“Ah, yes. I wonder what that's all about.”
“Shall I take us there, Frank?”
“Sure thing, Phil.”
Phildan pressed a couple of places on his pad. “Done. We need to talk about your sword, Frank.”
“Oh yeah? What's up?”
“I don't know that it will ever be sharp again. It really took a beating when you were carving up those Mingrein.”
“It seemed to work well for the most part. It kinda got stuck in that last one though. Maybe we should buy more swords. In bulk. We could probably negotiate a better price for them that way.”
Gladosanthos spoke up. “The price really isn't an issue. We have more than enough gold for whatever armaments you deem necessary.”
“Well, I'm a cheap bastard. I don't like to just waste money.”
“That's an appreciable quality.”
“Finally!”
“Finally what, Frank?”
“I've been waiting my whole life to meet a lady that feels the same way about money as I do.”
“We're here.” Phildan announced.
“Okay. Checklist. Knife. Knife. Fresh sword. Remind me to buy some sunglasses.” Frank stepped inside the red circle. “Better go talk to this guy.” And he was gone.
* * *
Frank was really getting the hang of the drops. He landed perfectly in the sand and assumed a defensive posture. The orb took it's usual position just over his left shoulder.
“You see him anywhere?”
“I'm looking. Yes. There.” She started toward an area inland where some volcanic stones were now exposed to the direct sunlight.
“I didn't even know those big rocks were there. Those assholes really did a number on this place.”
“Yes, it was quite a lovely island.”
The Mingrein was laying upon a rock, like any other reptile Frank had ever seen, warming itself in the sun. When it noticed their approach, it slowly stood up, all the while letting it's head hang low as a sign of submission. Frank walked to just within a few feet of the lizard.
“The name's Frank,” he said in perfect Mingrein language.
“I am called Bett, the Fisher.”
“Do you do a lot of fishing?” Frank thought he was being funny.
“Actually, yes.” Bett never let his eyes raise above Frank's feet.
“So what's your story, Bett? I noticed you weren't carrying a gun.”
“I was sent down here to die. So please do make it quick.”
“I'm not in the habit of just killing people, or other, uh, species. All I've done is defend myself and my fellow Earthlings. So who wants you dead?”
“Groll.”
“Who's Groll?”
Gladosanthos answered. “Groll, the Undefeated, is the leader of one arm of the growing Mingrein empire. He is known for his ferocity.”
“That is true. I was once his closest adviser. But we've had philosophical differences.”
“That's going around. Please elaborate though.” Frank was again pleased with his own wit.
“I've never agreed with the consumption of beings with higher intelligence. It just isn't a good idea. But Groll insisted that all edible species are to be nothing but food or slaves. He acquired a new adviser, and I was demoted to Science Officer. But I continued to voice my opinions, and he grew tired of me.”
“So either I killed you i
n battle, or you get blown up then?”
“That is correct.”
“So why did you help me?”
“I must admit I was enjoying watching you work. Their arrogance is their weakness. With all due respect, you don't look like you would be so capable. But that was a highly trained and seasoned task force and you cut them down quite easily.”
“What would have happened had I gone in the ship? I was going to take out the pilot.”
“You would have been sealed in, and spaced.”
“Spaced?”
“Yes. Upon leaving the atmosphere, they would open the main door and you would be sucked out into free space to suffocate.”
“Wow. Good looking out! You really did me a favor then. Maybe I can return it. Are you cold?”
“I am extremely cold, Frank.”
“Gladys? Can we get this guy a suit?”
“I don't see any reason why not. Allow me to scan for measurements.”
“Awesome. Bett, I have two questions for you.”
“What are they?” Bett asked.
“First, are you male or female?”
“Male.”
“Okay, and what were your duties as Science Officer?”
“I was in charge primarily of the implementation of technical directives passed forth from the new Adviser. It wasn't so much science as it was engineering, but it was still my title.”
“So, who is this new Adviser anyway?”
“Only Groll spoke with him. But the rumors were he was not Mingrein.”
“Interesting.”
“Bett, the Fisher, how are the Mingrein able to detect our ships?” the orb asked in perfect Mingrein language.
“The Adviser ordered us to tune the sensors to detect a certain gravitational value. This showed us your position by detecting your artificial gravity generators. The range of those sensors was limited, but whenever your ships were close, we could target our torpedoes.”
The orb went silent. Frank could tell she had muted it so she could speak privately with Phildan. Hopefully they would have a workaround for that little problem. He turned back to Bett.
“So you survive primarily off of fish then?”
“I gained that name on the last world Groll invaded. There was no game to speak of, and the Mingrein quickly fell into a blood lust over the inhabitants. I refused to consume them, and I took to the oceans for my food. I am actually quite fond of aquatic meat, so the name, although intended as an insult, has never bothered me.”
“Frank, Phildan is programming the suit. It will be along shortly.”
“Awesome, Gladys.” Turning back to Bett he continued, “Those inhabitants, were they human?”
Bett finally raised his gaze to look Frank in the eye. His gaze was remorseful. “Yes. And they wiped out nearly every one of them.”
Frank could feel the anger growing inside of himself. “And now they want to do the same thing to us?”
“Not exactly. They are looking at this planet as a long term option. You have billions of people and plenty of meat from other sources. Instead of a total plant based, agricultural system, you raise and consume a number of different lower species of mammal. Far more people would be enslaved, rather than consumed here.”
“That really doesn't make me feel any better about it. How many Mingrein are we looking at showing up?”
“Several thousand. It really depends on how much cannibalism takes place en route. More ships are scheduled to arrive from other worlds as well.”
“Jeez, cannibalism? You guys are whacked.”
“Suit incoming, heads up, Frank,” Gladosanthos spoke.
Frank looked up in time to catch the gray blob as it fell from the boat. It was heavier than he expected and didn't at all resemble any clothing that he'd ever seen. It looked like a blob of wet clay, but it was dry to the touch. And as it seemed to want to fall through his fingers, it held itself together.
“How does this work?”
“Just slap it on his chest.”
Bett held his chin up and out of the way as Frank slapped him with the blob. The gray mass spread itself quickly and in a few moments it covered most of Bett's body.
“There are several articulations you can make to order the suit to cover either more or less of your body. It is self-cleaning and water resistant.” Gladosanthos sounded almost mechanical.
“Thank you so much. I feel better already.”
Frank carefully considered his next decision. He didn't want to kill Bett, but he certainly didn't want to bring him along in the boat. “What is your preferred method for fishing, Bett?”
“I enjoy swimming and catching them with my claws so that I may consume them while they are the freshest. It was always too cold to stay out in the water for long though. That explains my size.”
“You're just the right size, Bett. There's tons of fish in these waters. That suit should help keep you warm while you swim. But stay away from any human water-craft. They will certainly kill you if you give them half a chance. You are welcome to stay on this island until we can figure out some better accommodations. We'll bring you fresh water periodically.”
“Thank you very much, Frank,” Bett said with a bow. “The Earth is quite fortunate to have such a wise and powerful leader.”
“Oh, I'm not a leader. I'm just a guy.”
Bett looked confused as he watched them depart.
When they were out of earshot Frank said, “You better leave a remote here to keep tabs on him.”
“Agreed.”
* * *
Gladosanthos pulled the halo off of her head and placed it in it's cradle. She hadn't spoken much and was wearing a look of consternation. It had been tens of thousands of years since the last time she had felt so confused.
“You cannot figure him out, can you, Gladosanthos?” the contralto asked, her voice coming from nowhere.
“Constanthos, how I wish to put the halo on him.”
“I believe you would prefer the mystery, my sister.”
“You are probably right, as always. But I do wonder what he is thinking.”
“I see where this is heading.”
“I only wish I could see.”
11.
Terrelle Williams stood alone in the parking lot next to the load that Frank had requested. He was silently cursing to himself as he gazed out over the field where he had spent countless hours as a high school student, practicing with his teammates on the football field. Frank must have chosen this place to remind him how things used to be between them. They were best friends since they met. Frank always had an easy way about him, and was quick to help out a friend in need. While Terrelle was focused on his school work and sports, always looking to the future, Frank was out working on something, expanding his skills. When Frank wasn't earning money or in school, he was usually working on some project to improve his mother's house. A lot of times he would even work on Estelle's home, free of charge, just claiming the need to be a good neighbor. They were tight back then, and Terrelle would attempt to help Frank when he had the free time, but he couldn't keep up. Frank was considered a master carpenter long before Terrelle ever got his bachelors degree. When the dream of playing for the pros fell apart, Terrelle went to law school and cemented his comfortable future.
When his phone rang, Terrelle wasn't in the mood to be polite. “Where the hell are you, Frank? I've been out here for an hour!”
“I was waiting on traffic to die down. Bars let out and I didn't want any spectators.”
“Spectators for what?”
“Look to your left.”
Terrelle looked to his left in time to see a horizontal opening appear out of thin air, as if reality had a hole in it. It grew and became obvious that it was a ramp being lowered from some invisible craft that was poised about eight feet from the ground. It wasn't a narrow ramp, and it was clearly big enough to accept the load that Terrelle had prepared. Frank came casually walking down the ramp with a smile on his face.
“I see you're still driving my car.”
Snapping back to reality, Terrelle said, “Insurance is still giving me the runaround about my 'Vette. Hope you don't mind.”
“Buy yourself a new one, on me. Then pay yourself whatever your fee is and put the rest into my business account.” Frank presented a package to him. Terrelle reached out to accept it and the weight caught him completely by surprise.
“Holy shit, what's in here?”
“Open it and see.” Frank picked up the couch and headed up the ramp with it.
“Damn, when did you get so strong?” he asked as he set the box down to open it up. When Frank walked back down the ramp, Terrelle asked, “Is this what I think it is?”
“Pure gold, Terrelle. I told you these foreign folks pay in gold, right?”
“Yeah but this seems like quite a lot.”
“It probably is. They're very generous. Lock that in the trunk so I can show you my new ride.”
Terrelle strained under the load but managed to get it to the Thunderbird and lock it away while Frank carried the television box up the ramp. They met back at the bottom of the ramp.
“So what exactly is this thing, Frank? Doorway to Oz, or some shit?”
“Close. Help me carry these mattresses up. I'll come back for the sword stand.”
“Couch. TV. Mattresses. It's an invisible RV?”
As they reached the inside and Terrelle looked around, Frank said, “Nah, it's just a spaceship.”
“So these foreigners are aliens, right?”
“Yup. Wanna meet one?”
Custodian_Monster of Earth Book One Page 10