Last Dance of the Phoenix

by James R. Lane

  But his reaction to Bertha’s shadowy images of the device that almost worked its way into the passenger compartment of the taxi was one of genuine outrage, and that sealed it. He was ours.

  “Ambassador D’naad,” I began, “my friends here and I, along with certain high-ranking governmental and military officials here on Earth, are convinced that this…campaign…against us is not the work of one person, or even a small group of people. What we first thought to be a possible political ploy or power struggle is now, we feel, something more akin to a move toward genocide; of who and by whom we don’t yet know. We have our suspicions, and some of the evidence is of a nature so sensitive I cannot yet reveal it even to my two female friends here who have, themselves, been targets of the madness.” D’naad’s mouth hung open in fresh shock, his eyes wide with renewed horror. “But I can tell you with certainty that we need your help. Hopefully we still have time to defuse the situation, but that time is no doubt growing short, and we’re certain it will eventually run out.

  “I’ve seen the horrible results of both large and small wars here on Earth,” I stated. “Wars are ugly in a way I can’t effectively describe, but an interstellar war, a war between entire species, a war that could possibly eliminate entire species---” I shook my head. “That’s a tragedy of such a massive scale, I don’t even want to imagine it.

  “Ambassador D’naad, this is what we’re facing,” I intoned, “and frankly, I’m scared to death.”

  The young male eventually closed his muzzle with an audible clack, then he looked pointedly at the two vixens. They returned his stare, none of them saying a word. In time he stood, stepped around the coffee table and up to my recliner, then extended his right hand in a human-like gesture---to shake. “My name is F’leek, and I would be honored if you would address me as such---as a friend.”

  I quickly stood, then accepted his handshake. “Call me Tom, F’leek. The girls here do, unless they’re mad at me. Then they call me things I’d rather not repeat.” The last was delivered with a grin aimed at the vixens, and L’raan was quicker than her grandmother with a retort.

  “You are so full of…of---!” Then she shook her head and calmly stated, “That will cost you, Tom Barnes. When you least expect it, we will enact justice.” She stood and stepped around the coffee table to stand near the ambassador. “My full name is L’raan M’boos, and I greet you as a friend.” She leaned near and gave his black nose a quick lick, then stepped back to give her grandmother access.

  “I am B’naah N’looma,” the old vixen stated, and she, too, gave his nose a quick lick, “but if you address me as B’naah in a public setting, youngster, I will bite your nose, and it won’t be a friendly nip!”

  Chapter 16

  Lust Rules All Fools

  The question and answer session properly evolved into a strategy session as we outlined what we little we knew and tried to come up with a game plan. As the afternoon progressed I could also see that L’raan and F’leek were “hitting it off” quite well, and perhaps, I mused, this was for the best. The young vixen had quickly realized that the ambassador was quite sincere in both his horror at what had been done and his desire to help solve the problem, and this understanding lowered her defenses. Several times during the strategy session, while the two young Yularians were engaged in intense discussions, B’naah and I exchanged “knowing” glances, and toward the close of day I made another decision.

  “People,” I announced, “it’s getting late and I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry, so what say we pause this discussion and have dinner.” Before things could get awkward I added, “F’leek, as I stated earlier, you are welcome to share our evening meal.”

  He looked a bit uncertain, but before he could protest L’raan stated, “Human food is safe for us, and very tasty. Please stay.” Her grandmother nodded her head in agreement, and the ambassador wasted no time in agreeing to stay.

  “B’naah, would you please give me a hand in the kitchen?” I said as I headed out of the den. L’raan started to join us but I quickly stated, “Your grandmother and I should be able to handle this, so why don’t you stay here and keep F’leek company? This shouldn’t take too long.”

  Once out of casual earshot of the two young Yularians, B’naah sternly confronted me. “You are up to something, Tom, and I would like to know what it is.”

  I smiled innocently at her---a wasted effort---then said, “We’ll talk about this later, I promise, but for now we need to get supper under way. Deal?” She held an ears-back frown for a few moments longer, then snorted and nodded. She hadn’t fooled me; she wasn’t angry.

  “There should be a large package of chicken breasts in the chest freezer next to the washing machine in the utility room. If you could get it I’ll get things rolling in here.” When the old physician looked a bit confused I added, “One of Bertha’s spiders can show you which package I need; it’s just not capable of opening the freezer lid or carrying such a heavy, slippery item.”

  B’naah didn’t like the little mechanical horrors, but she dutifully let it lead the way out of the kitchen and into the nearby utility room. I busied myself selecting cookware and was reaching for some canned corn when I heard an inhuman scream and a drawn-out clatter-crash. B’naah!

  Bertha instantly shouted my name, but I was already in motion, and an eternal instant later found me thundering through the doorway into the utility room, where I confronted an incredible nightmare. One of the cat-sized, black Yularian military drones was engaged in a frantic claw-to-claw struggle with Bertha’s woods-rat-sized mechanical spider that had accompanied B’naah to the utility room, and the elderly physician was cowering in a corner.

  What concerned me most at the moment, though, was that the spider was losing! The military drone had already torn or cut off most of the spider’s appendages, and seemed prepared to toss it aside. The front of the thing had several nasty-looking sharp devices---and one small tube that I knew, from information provided by Art’s research team, held a tiny but lethal plasma canon. If it got a clear aim at B’naah---or me---it would no doubt kill us.

  When F'leek turned out to be friendly, I'd happily divested myself of my heavy, uncomfortable pistol, so I was totally unarmed. Quickly scanning the room, the only “weapon” I could find was a broom; not much to fend off a sophisticated alien killing machine, but it was better (I hoped!) than rude gestures and harsh language. Grabbing it, I managed to smack the two struggling machines, knocking the now-virtually-legless spider out of the drone’s grasp. The Yularian military device was perched just inside the open top of the freezer, and seemed momentarily disoriented, perhaps blinded by the coating of frost covering its sensors, and I quickly snatched up the crippled spider and held it around its waist, pointing its nose at the drone’s aft end. “SHOOT!” I yelled, and Bertha triggered the broken little thing’s laser.

  Naturally the too-brief-in-duration beam missed, since it could only be aimed by perfectly aligning the spider’s body with the target, something I hadn’t quite accomplished. Still, the momentary burst of radiant energy drew the drone’s attention away from B’naah---a good thing---and directed it toward me. That wasn’t so good.

  I could hear a high-pitched whine coming from it, and I figured things were about to end badly for Tom Barnes, when another laser beam, coming from the doorway to my left, struck the front of the alien machine, apparently blinding its sensor array. The drone turned toward the new threat, presenting me a half-way decent “broadside” target. I carefully aimed the spider I was holding at the drone’s rear and my little legless horror once again spat a searing red beam out its nose.

  A hit!

  The rear of the drone showed a momentary hot spot, then it flash-banged as its power source died. I unceremoniously dropped the crippled spider and leapt to where B’naah was huddled in the corner, and out of the corner of my eye I saw L’raan’s and F’leek’s heads peer in the open door, then they scramble into the room, being careful not to get ne
ar the now-immobile, smoking and sizzling drone.

  The elderly Yularian was whimpering and trying to push her way deeper into the corner, and I spent frantic moments doing everything I knew to do to comfort and soothe her---to no avail. It took L’raan’s sharp voice and firm grasp on flailing arms to break the old vixen’s panic, and when B’naah’s eyes finally lost their mindless terror she looked at both her granddaughter and me---and broke into wailing, yelping tears. L’raan enfolded the old doctor into her arms to let her cry herself out, and since matters seemed to be under control I withdrew, stood and stepped over to examine the ruin of the black mechanical monster that had tried to kill us. F’leek was standing there, seemingly in shock as he stared at the thing, and I told him, my voice shaky, “Welcome to our world, Mister Ambassador. It seems somebody---or some thing---didn’t get the message to stand down.”

  The young male looked at me with horror-filled eyes, and I think he aged a decade before finally saying, “Nothing brings an issue into sharp focus faster than seeing lethal force used in front of one’s eyes.” He reached a tentative hand out and grasped my arm. “After viewing the video records of the first attack, Tom, I didn’t doubt you.” He glanced back at the smoking, stinking horror that had fallen to the floor. “But after experiencing it first-hand---” He snarled, his impressive fangs bared. “Friend Tom, you’ve got the full resources of my government---my people---at your disposal to find out just who is behind this…this obscenity!”

  I laid a hand atop his, saying, “Thank you, sir. I just hope and pray that the trail to the source doesn’t lead us in directions neither of us want.”

  “Tom,” came L’raan’s soft call, and I quickly rejoined the vixens, kneeling down to where they were still huddled in the corner. B’naah had calmed down, and I quickly inquired as to injuries.

  She reached out a shaky hand and took mine in a surprisingly strong grasp. “You…you fought that---thing---with…a broom? A broom…against a…a plasma canon?”

  I laughed nervously. “Harsh language wasn’t gonna work, my dear, so I did what I could with what I had.”

  “But---you killed it!” she insisted.

  “No,” I countered, “Bertha’s poor little torn-up spider killed it, but only after a second spider blinded it and allowed me to better aim the damaged one’s laser.”

  “No, Tom,” she barked, “I’m old but I’m not blind. It was trying to kill me, and you attacked it...and then you killed it!” She pulled me closer, and I didn’t know if she was going to bite me, or---

  Instead, she brought my head close to hers, then she licked my nose ever-so-gently. “Thank you, Tom, for saving my life---again.”

  She seemed reluctant to release me, so L’raan and I carefully helped the old soul to her shaky feet, then we walked her past the robotic destruction and back into the den where we made her comfortable on the couch. Her granddaughter carefully checked her for injuries---none beyond a few bruises---and I drew F’leek back with me into the kitchen. Out of earshot of the den I tiredly asked, “OK, Bertha, how’d this one get past your guard?”

  “As best I can determine,” the AI stated quietly from a ceiling speaker, “it has been inside the freezer all along. When B’naah lifted the lid my spider jumped up to the rim, and that’s when B’naah screamed and fell back into the corner, knocking some containers off a shelf. The intense cold and a coating of ice apparently hindered the drone’s sensors, or it no doubt would have killed her before she got away. My spider immediately engaged it, but could not get into position to fire its laser. The rest you know.”

  “You’re saying it’s been in there all along?” I stated, incredulous. “Why didn’t it stand down like the one in the kitchen?”

  “Until I can examine its memory module---which I will do before Art’s recovery team gets here in the morning---I won’t know for sure, but I theorize that the metal case of the freezer, along with all the dense, frozen food that surrounded it, blocked the deactivation signal that we now know disabled the one found in the kitchen. From what I can tell, this one was buried deep under packages of food and was in the process of tunneling out. Had B’naah not opened the lid, I surmise it would have soon broken free of the freezer.”

  I got a sudden chill. “Then it would have been free to attack us all.” F’leek’s eyes widened in understanding.

  “I regret that I’m not infallible,” Bertha stated, “and it’s very possible I would not have detected it, or even been able to disable it, before it killed or at least seriously injured any or all of you.”

  F’leek and I eventually managed to throw together a meal that wasn’t too shabby, but predictably none of us had much of an appetite. Still, our bodies had to be fed, and once we’d demolished some undamaged steaks I found in the bottom of the freezer, we left the remains on the table and once more adjourned to the den. No coffee or Gatorade this time, however. I broke out four crystal glasses, three straws and a decent bottle of my favorite hearty, semi-sweet red wine. “I know Yularians enjoy at least some of our adult beverages, and I'm betting this one will meet with everybody’s approval.” I poured generous portions of the rich, aromatic wine into our glasses, then raised mine in a toast. “To victory over our mysterious enemies!”

  “To victory!” the ambassador barked, and both vixens echoed him, then we all sampled the wine. F’leek’s eyes got wide and his ears stood to attention, then he licked his chops and managed a canid grin. “Another fine trade item!” he crowed before taking another long tug on his straw. Not the most elegant way to drink wine, but it worked.

  B’naah seemed to enjoy the wine, while her granddaughter coughed at first, then pulled harder on her straw. “The beverage has a firm bite,” the elderly vixen stated, “but it's a most pleasant one.”

  “Stronger than the white wine you served us the other night, Tom, but...very nice!” L’raan hissed around her straw as she further drained her glass.

  One refill apiece and the bottle was empty, and I noticed that the young vixen’s gaze was becoming a bit…fuzzy. “Perhaps it’s time we all turned in,” I offered. “F’leek, you are most welcome to stay the night.” When he made to protest I countered with, “From his earlier actions today, I really don't trust your pilot to fly down here in the dark, so why not wait until the daylight when the ride will be safer for all concerned.” The Yularian ambassador again looked a bit uncertain, and I added, “My security AI is on highest alert---aren’t you, Bertha?---and she’s been rechecking the entire house and surroundings for additional threats. All clear?”

  “No additional threats found, Tom,” Bertha reported. “The house is in full lock-down mode.”

  “Very well!” I declared. “Please contact the Yularian embassy and let them know that Ambassador D’naad will be accepting my hospitality for the evening.” I smiled at the young Yularian. “However, say nothing to them about the drone’s attack. No need to let our unknown enemy know we’ve dodged yet another bullet.”

  Before I could say anything else B’naah interrupted. “With the stress of the evening still so fresh, I, for one, don’t relish the idea of sleeping alone.” Oh? “With everyone’s agreement I suggest L’raan and F’leek take my room, and---if Tom doesn’t mind---I’ll bed down with him.” Oh really! “We Yularians often share beds, so I can’t imagine there being an objection with our two youngsters.” The old vixen was, if nothing else, quite assertive.

  The two young members of our little group looked at each other; F’leek looking for all the world like he was embarrassed, while L’raan---well, she looked both demure…and hungry. “Works for me,” I stated, “but you need to understand something, B’naah---I snore.”

  “Your snoring,” she said, “is the least of my worries. I’ll probably be seeing that damnable drone reaching for me in my sleep, so you may have to contend with an occasional scream.”

  “I think we’ll manage,” I soothed, rising from my chair. The three Yularians climbed to their feet---L’raan somewhat unsteadily---and
the young vixen reached out a hand to her soon-to-be bedmate, then they slowly made their way down the hall.

  B’naah and I watched their retreat, and I noticed that L’raan’s tail---and her butt---was twitching and swaying a bit more than usual. Apparently her grandmother noticed, too. “You surprise me, Tom Barnes,” she said in low tones. “I didn’t realize at first that you were intentionally playing ‘matchmaker’.” She looked up at me. “But you are, aren’t you?”

  After a long moment, during which time the young couple entered the bedroom at the end of the hall and closed the door, I said, “The opportunity presented itself, and I did what I thought best.”

  “You and I still have much to discuss,” she stated, “and your ‘later’ has become ‘now’.” She took me firmly by the hand and added, “I’m told humans often talk long into the night while lying in bed. Perhaps it’s time you and I gave it a try.”

  Chapter 17

  Pillow Talk

  Once secure behind my bedroom’s heavy, solid door, I sat on the edge of my bed and said, “So. What’s on your mind that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  The old vixen stood glaring at me, her black-furred hands on her hips. Finally, “I do not understand you, Thomas Barnes. You take my granddaughter to bed, then you all but throw the new ambassador at her. Did you tire of her so quickly?”

  Her accusation hit me like gasoline on a hot barbeque grill, but I managed to keep myself from grabbing her by the ruff and tossing her out the door---but just barely! “Let me tell you one thing, old woman,” I snarled, “and I’ll say it only once: I have done nothing improper with or to your granddaughter, nor do I ever intend to. I don’t give a shit if you believe me, but if you ask her I think she’ll back me up---at which time I’ll expect an apology from you. Understand?”

  She backed up a half-step from the intensity of my reply, but to her credit she didn’t cringe or cower. “Proper and improper are vague terms when applied to alien cultures, Tom,” she retorted. “What’s proper in Yularian society may very well be scandalous in yours, and vice-versa. Now that you’ve been given back your health and youthful vitality, are you telling me you have no sexual interest in young females, or---do you prefer young males?”