Superego-Fathom

by Frank J. Fleming

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The liquid attacked my tongue and throat with a burning sensation. This was my body telling me it was something harmful, but like all of humanity before me, I ignored that warning and continued to drink more of the brown substance. It would soon make its way to my brain, dulling my senses and helping me relax so that I didn’t stress out so much about ... whatever it was my job was. Shipping or something. Normal people had such petty problems. They think what ails them is lack of money or prestige, but the real problem is that they live dreary, pointless lives.

  So anyway, I was drinking the whiskey to help me forget about my dreary, pointless life, and across the bar I spotted a gorgeous young brunette in a tight red dress. Very feminine, i.e., completely impractical wear for doing anything useful — unless emphasizing her curves could be classified as useful. And as I admired said curves, she looked back at me. Did she just smile?

  I smiled back. She kept her eyes on me, blushing slightly. No mistaking this: It was an invitation. And why not? I’m good-looking, aren’t I? And I’m an important business owner. And a little dangerous. Some of my shipping business might be a bit mixed up with criminal syndicates. I mostly stay out of that, but I’m still prepared for trouble if it comes. I own a gun.

  I slipped off my wedding ring as casually as possible and grabbed my drink as I headed over to the young woman. The hotel bar was nearly empty except for the two of us. I had a clear shot. I put on my most charming smile. She was a very attractive young woman — enough to be intimidating if her smile weren’t so inviting. If I were a smarter man, I might have been suspicious. But I was a man with an inflated ego, my arrogance counteracting my intelligence.

  She laughed at my dumb jokes and looked generally interested in my boring anecdotes about intergalactic shipping. She told me she was a pharmaceutical rep, but I didn’t bother querying her much on it as, again, I was arrogant and really just wanted to talk about myself. I caught her name, Molly, which I guess was useful to know. She casually let slip that she was all alone in her room tonight, and I leaped for it. “You don’t have to be alone,” I said, my smile having taken on a slight predatory edge.

  So then we were on the fifth floor heading to her room, and it was too good to be true. I just happened to meet this beautiful woman who is absolutely into me. And it really was too good to be true. I wasn’t sure how stupid I was supposed to be. But Molly seemed like a professional. I had to trust that she had done the adequate due diligence to seduce me, such that I would no longer be operating under rational faculties.

  We entered her suite, and as soon as the door closed, I got handsy. Molly’s expression immediately changed. There was no friendliness anymore. And I felt something press against my ribs. A gun. “Sit down,” she ordered.

  Oh! What an unexpected, distressing turn of events. I fell back into a nearby chair, all the while keeping my eyes on that scary, scary gun pointed my way. Then I saw three men come out of the bedroom, two of them holding my sobbing wife, with guns pointed at her head. My world was turned upside down. Yes, I was about to cheat on her. But I still loved her. Plus, she was the mother of my children ... I think. I probably should have paid more attention to the briefing.

  One of the men approached me. A dark-haired, intimidating man about my age knelt down to see me eye to eye. “Hello, Carlton. We’re going to have a little talk.”

  It took a moment for me to form words — because, you know, I was so scared. “Please ... don’t ...” I stared at my wife. She was bawling, tears and snot running down her face. She was so helpless and hysterical that the men holding her barely regarded her; their guns weren’t even really pointed at her. She was so in control of the situation, this wasn’t even sporting.

  “The point of this isn’t to entertain you,” Dip reminded me.

  Maybe not, but I do fear what boredom will do to me.

  “You’ve weathered worse.”

  I’ve weathered horrible things, but they weren’t boring.

  The man in front of me — Guerrero — didn’t have his gun out. The two men behind him had their guns lazily pointed at my “wife” but had their eyes on me. Molly was the only one with a gun pointed directly at me and who didn’t seem to completely disregard me as a threat.

  “That was probably Diane in another life,” Dip commented.

  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that information. Avoid killing her because maybe one day she’ll reform her ways? You could say that about anyone here. Am I supposed to not kill anyone? Because if no one is getting killed, I’m fairly useless.

  “Just making an observation, correlating the data I have.”

  Guerrero snapped his fingers in front of my face. “You with us, Carlton? I think you know who I am and the very powerful people I now work for.”

  “The ... the Fathom,” I stammered. Talking is hard, with all the fear and whatnot.

  “But you haven’t fallen in line,” Guerrero continued. “You’re still doing business with —” He took another hard look at my face, then took out a handheld and glanced at it and back at me. “You don’t look like Carlton.”

  I shrugged. “I kind of look like you, though, don’t I? At least enough to fool people who aren’t our species, I’d think.”

  Guerrero backed away a step, his hand moving to where I assumed his gun was. Molly now pointed her gun at me with both hands, her tiny suspicion about me confirmed. The two other thugs prepared to point their guns my way, almost forgetting their hostage.

  “Who are you?” Guerrero demanded.

  “Here’s what I want you to do,” I told him very calmly. “I want you to really use your imagination and try to come up with the last person in the entire universe you’d want sitting right here.”

  I waited a moment to see if his brain got there. The involuntary twitch in his face told me it did. Then I gave him my signature smile, which froze him in place as Diane sprang into action. She’s quick — not as quick as me, but who is? Still, it only took her a second to seize a gun from a hand near her and fire off two shots, taking down the two next to her. This snapped Guerrero out of it, and he turned around. It grabbed Molly’s attention, too, and I took that moment to get to my feet and close the distance between us. A strong twist of the gun in her hand, and now it was in my hand. And then it’s but a simple twitch of my finger, and no more Molly. Another simple option was to elbow her in the face, and — I guess out of whimsy — I went with that instead of shooting her. She fell back into a desk. She was now another factor to keep an eye on, but I didn’t think she was going to be any more trouble. But that was also something I could be very wrong about.

  The choice made, I quickly turned around and shot Guerrero through the shoulder, as he had finally collected himself enough to go for his gun. He screamed and fell to the floor. Diane bent down, grabbed his gun, and barked, “Don’t move!” at Molly. Molly was dazed and bleeding from the nose but had enough sense to raise her hands as she got back to her feet.

  Guerrero glared at us, barely concealing his fear. “When the Fathom find out about —”

  “Don’t threaten people while you’re bleeding on the floor,” I interrupted. “It comes off as insincere.”

  “Is this our thing now?” Diane asked. “You spook them and I attack in the distraction?”

  “Lion and lioness.” I picked up Guerrero’s handheld. “I roar; you attack.” I touched my ear. “Hey, cleanup crew. Get in here.”

  I opened the door, and Wade and Sylvia came in.

  “We’re not your cleanup crew,” Sylvia told me, surveying the scene.

  “Well, whoever you are,” I said, motioning to the two dead bodies, “you’ve got some cleanup.”

  “Let’s stay focused,” Wade said as he approached Guerrero. “Intel said the Fathom were calling you over to Calipa. You want to confirm that?”

  “If this is all some Galactic Alliance government thing,” Molly said, one hand raised and one hand clutching her bloody nose, “I want you to
know I’m just hired help. I’m not a part of whatever is going on.”

  Sylvia turned to Molly, and as soon as I saw that impassive face, I knew what was coming next. I guess I had an opportunity to stop it, but I didn’t get what the point of that would be. A small hole burned its way through Molly’s head, and she collapsed in a heap on the floor as Sylvia put the gun back under her coat.

  Wade took a quick glance at what had happened, but Diane stared, wide-eyed. “She had her hands raised.”

  Sylvia’s impassive face turned to a scowl. “I’m sorry? Am I playing this fun little game of ours too rough?”

  “We don’t have time to snipe at each other,” Wade said, his calm, collected surface a little harder to see through. “We also don’t have time for mercy for anyone choosing to work for the Fathom.”

  Leave it to me to choose not killing someone when that was the unpopular course of action.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to judge,” Diane said. “We’ve all been through a lot.” Diane now glanced down at the two bodies near her that she was responsible for, and something in her seemed to deflate. She could be like me at times — absolutely ice-cold — but it never lasted. Killing takes a toll on people. Or so I’ve heard.

  Sylvia took a deep breath, pushing down the little bit of emotion that had surfaced. “You did mean to judge, but you probably have a point. I don’t think me from even a month ago would look very kindly on what I am now. But as you’ve said, we’ve been through a lot. When people are getting killed by the millions left and right, it all gets a little muddled.”

  This makes me glad to be me, Dip. Seems like torture to be like these two women, getting all worked up by all of this.

  “Just don’t say anything misogynistic and make it worse.”

  Then I will not say anything.

  “Good. We’re all friends now.” Wade looked down at Guerrero. “As you can see, we’re all a little on edge, so why don’t you be helpful? We need to get onto Calipa.”

  Guerrero didn’t look at Wade. He kept his eyes locked on me. “You get what you want from me, how do I know you won’t kill me?”

  I leaned in toward him and smiled. “How do you know by then you won’t want us to?”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Mr. Guerrero, it’s good to have you here.”

  “It’s good to be here,” I smiled, only letting a fraction of my usual menace into it. “This seems the place to be.”

  I stood on a small hill on planet Calipa, and all I saw about me were grass and trees. Well, it looked like grass but slightly off, as it was thinner and more tubular. And the trees were a bit like earth trees but again slightly off — the bark was redder, the green leaves spikier. And singing near us was something that sounded like a bird but not quite. Convergent evolution, they called it. Very similar things evolving on completely different worlds. These were all things native to the home world of the Dallians, but this was not their home world. This was a colonized world, planned from its inception. That’s why it looked so unspoiled. Though I seemed to be in the middle of nowhere with nothing but nature surrounding me, I could see people everywhere, walking around the clearings in the forest. Because this was in fact a city center.

  I turned to watch as my craft was lowered into an opening in the hill. Diane, Wade, and Sylvia stood near me, all also trying to look menacing, as we were supposed to be hired killers or something. Sylvia didn’t pull off menacing very well, but personally she was the one I most wanted to keep an eye on. Greeting us was a Dallian named Mazen, who stood a head taller than me, and I didn’t think he found any of us that menacing, not that I could be certain that his expression tracked with my human interpretation. He was mostly covered in brown fur and wore minimal clothing (because why waste your money on clothes when you already have fur?).

  “Sorry for the wait on landing clearance,” Mazen said, “but we’re being extra careful with security. Obviously, the old Alliance wants to get its own people down here to disrupt things.”

  I shifted the guns under my jacket. “I’m sure a few are going to slip through the cracks no matter what you do.”

  “Yes, they probably have a handful of people here already,” Mazen answered. “Hopefully you can help us root out any undesirable elements.”

  I smiled again. “That’s what I do. Keep peace and order.”

  He looked at Diane, Wade, and Sylvia. “And this is all you need for that?”

  “These are two of my top people,” I assured him. “And some arm candy. All I need.”

  Mazen laughed. Well, it sounded similar to a human laugh. I’m pretty sure it was a laugh. “Let’s get going, then.”

  He led us down the hill to what appeared to be a cave. Inside, it was brightly lit and looked like the interior of a modern building. Somehow sunlight bathed the interior, coming through windows that must not have been visible on the outside. A stairway led down to an enclosure with seats. We all sat inside, and the door closed. The enclosure started moving. It went only a short distance before it emerged into the sunlight and flew skyward, high above what below us looked so unspoiled that one might think it was a nature preserve.

  The tram continued on some sort of invisible path through the air until eventually it started to descend. It looked like we were going to just crash into an empty meadow, but we entered a tunnel that was nearly invisible from any distance, and we were underground again. Soon after, the tram slowed to a stop. The doors opened, and we got out into another well-lit area. We walked up some stairs into what appeared to be a modern office building, with all glass walls that gave a great view of the greenery outside. The inhabitants didn’t look like office workers, though. They were mainly more large Dallians, who watched us with wary eyes and exuded an air of menace — the sort of people I was most used to being around. I started to inventory them. Number. Position. Combat readiness. I do that absolutely everywhere, though. This place seemed more likely to explode into an orgy of violence than a trip to the store, but even a trip to the store could get interesting. I guess I kind of attract interesting situations.

  “For all practical purposes,” Mazen said as he led us into a back room, “we have complete control of the planet. Law enforcement here will not be a problem for you. In fact, if anyone even questions you, report that to me immediately.”

  We came to a room less open to the sunlight, a conference room with chairs and a table. We took seats and got comfortable, except for Wade, who continued standing behind me. I guess he was my bodyguard or something.

  “What we have left is to formalize political control,” Mazen continued. “That should be done tomorrow with the election.”

  “This is certain?” I asked.

  Mazen smiled. Well, his lips curled and his white teeth showed. Something like a human smile. “When there is only one candidate, there is only one choice. The opposition candidate has unfortunately died, and no one else is running — afraid of a similar misfortune. Very soon our candidate, Taelor, will be speaking alongside one of the Fathom’s Messengers, trying to convince everyone that the Fathom’s rule will in fact be a good thing.”

  I looked around the room. I didn’t like it here. I couldn’t see much from this vantage point. “And if everyone isn’t convinced?”

  “That’s where you come in. Calipa has a substantial human population. We want human faces dealing with them. Keep things orderly tomorrow. Let’s be as pleasant as possible — we’re part of a glorious new future — but be extremely harsh to any opposition. We need you to root out any problems and deal with them immediately.”

  I gave a thumbs-up. Hopefully that meant something to his species.

  “And are your females capable of the needed violence?” Mazen asked, eyeing my two females. “Humans are so small, and they’re even smaller.”

  “That’s really sexist,” I said, “and I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

  Mazen gave me what I thought was his serious face. “This is very important. I don’t hav
e time for cultural niceties.”

  I shrugged. “So are we expecting unruliness tomorrow?”

  Mazen nodded. “The Dallians and humans have been trying to organize opposition, but we’ve been breaking that up. If they try anything, though, it will be tomorrow.”

  “What about the political rally that’s about to happen?”

  “We have a good handle on that,” Mazen said. “Our people are all over the event. Your concern is the humans during the election, to make sure everyone is nice and accepting of the new order afterward. And again, the example we’re following from the Fathom is to be as nice as possible for as long as possible, but nothing is too severe if that doesn’t work.”

  Mazen got up and led us into the next room. We passed some people at computer terminals listening in on conversations. On the monitors were crowds of people. It looked like the conference hall where the Fathom’s candidate was about to give a speech.

  We continued to a back room. No sunlight here. Two other Dallians stood holding guns. Near them was another Dallian in a chair, his hands bound behind him. The gray fur on his face was mottled with dark blood. In the corner was another Dallian — female, it seemed — clutching two much smaller Dallians — her children, I assumed.

  “Here’s one of the people trying to organize against us,” Mazen said. “I don’t think everyone quite gets that we are now backed by an organization that can wipe out planets whenever it chooses. We’re trying to balance something here: Hopefulness in being a part of the new Alliance and complete hopelessness in opposing it.”

  “Please,” the bound Dallian pleaded. “Don’t hurt them.”

  “This all seems a little cruel,” Sylvia said, her voice cold.

  I glanced at my compatriots. Wade and Sylvia were stoic — they were professionals — but I could see Diane’s demeanor cracking a bit.

  “This is upsetting my females,” I told Mazen.

  “It is necessary.” Mazen walked closer to the bound Dallian. “Harsh measures were ordered. We want everyone to know that if they dare to oppose us, not only will they be struck down immediately, their families will suffer as well. That should help quell any desire for rebellion.”