by Ross Buzzell
“So what are you then, some fu…”
A voice cuts him off over the intercom.
“Swear jar, sir.”
The detective clenches his jaw and looks away off to the side as his face begins to turn red; the wave even encompasses the top of his bald head, which gleams with the light from above.
“You one of those freaking creatures whose remains NASA found on Mars?”
Konner pauses for a moment as he thinks back in his history. He remembers the Martians, and they helped hold the Titans back from attacking Earth at the cost of all of their lives. Those must be the remains the detective is talking about.
“No, sir. The Martian species was completely wiped out protecting Earth thousands of Earth years ago.”
The detective slams his hands down on the table; his finger are thick and calloused indicative of manual labor. The musculature of his forearms and upper arms, which are hidden by a white button-down shirt, suggest he works out rigorously.
“You being a smart-ass, alien?”
This is an intimidation tactic, something he learned in interrogation classes back at the Sol’lor Academy. Use your size and be vulgar; it gives you a sense of unpredictability. Konner shakes his head.
“No, sir. I am just recalling what I learned in history back home.”
“And where is home?”
He growls.
“My home is mirrored to Earth on the Milky Way Galaxy; it is roughly 60,000 light years away on the Carina-Sagittarius Arm on the opposite side of the Galaxy. I believe those are the terms your ‘NASA’ uses.”
The detective pushes off the table and leans back. He crosses his arms over his barrel of a chest, and straps hang over his shoulders attached to the front of his pants and connect in the back.
“Okay then, hot shot. Why don’t you tell me just how the hell you got here.”
The prince looks up at the detective, looking directly into his dark eyes. It is hard to tell if they are brown, or even black, but he speaks from his heart and with a genuine tone, knowing just how crazy it sounds.
“I teleported here, sir.”
This throws Young into a rage. The laws of physics, as they apply to humans, states that teleportation is impossible, and technically, it is true. No other species in the universe aside from Boronians can generate the power needed to teleport without killing everything and everyone around them. The detective grabs the chair that sits on the opposite end of the table and throws it with one hand so hard that as it bounces off the grey wall, the leg bends. His eyes are ablaze and his lip is curled like a rabid dog as he is about to come over the table. Konner does not flinch, as he has faced beings far more terrifying, and if he were to come over the table, Konner would just open a wormhole and teleport him to the other side of the room to prove his point. Just before he does, however, the door flies open and the detective immediately backs off.
An older gentleman walks in, wearing his blue uniform and having metals pinned to his chest. Konner recognizes him; he is the commissioner that was on the news earlier that day. He takes one look at Young and shakes his head before nodding towards the door.
“Take a break, Young; go eat a doughnut or something.”
The detective’s jaw clenches; Konner can see the rage deep within him as he shakes his head but ultimately listens to his commanding officer.
“Yes, sir,”
he growls before storming out of the room and shooting Konner a dirty look. The commissioner grabs the chair that Detective Young threw. He puts it down feet side on the ground, but it is wobbly. He shakes his head with a look of disappointment on his face before turning his attention back to Konner.
“Please confirm for the record that your name is in fact Konner Lorian and that you are from another planet.”
Konner nods in compliance.
“I am. Yes, sir.”
The commissioner makes his way around the table. He leans against the edge of the structure and folds his hands on his lap. He looks down at the prince. There is something in his eye, a look of hope for the case before him.
“Okay then, Konner, out of a show of good faith, why don’t you tell us where your ship is.”
“There is no ship, sir. I was forced to teleport here because my home was under attack and my family had been slaughtered.”
As Konner speaks, the image of his son being rendered to a flash of light by Xero’s sword emerges in his brain. Konner pauses for a moment as he feels a knot form in his throat. He swallows hard and clears his throat before continuing.
“My only hope of survival was to get away from my planet until I could get strong enough to go back to my home. I assure you my stay here is not permanent, as for where I ‘touched down.’ Well, sir, I fell from your upper stratosphere and crashed in the middle of a desert in a place your people call Utah. I did not have time to man a ship; I did not even have time to plot a proper course. And to protect your planet, I intentionally aimed high for my teleporting because had I miscalculated and accidentally opened one of my portals in a volcanic vein, on a fault line, or even near the core of your planet, the results could have theoretically been catastrophic.”
Konner lifts his left arm towards the commissioner to show off his bracer, which glows with Boronian glyphs.
“And this is the technology that allows me to do that.”
The commissioner looks at the bracer. His brow furrows, but his lips curl upward from under his greying mustache.
“Well then, why don’t you let us take a look at that in one of our labs?”
Konner lowers his arm once more.
“Because the armor is connected to me, it is part of me. If you were to take it before you got down the hall, it would come right back.”
The older man nods; he is prodding for information, trying to get every drop out of Konner that he can while being sly about it. There is no need. If he were to ask, Konner would happily tell him anything he needs to know.
“Well then, if you can in fact teleport, why don’t you just go ahead and jump out of here. Or break out. One of my boys said you caught his bullet and it did not leave a mark on you. Those tiny handcuffs should be no problem at all. And if you really survived a fall from outer space, then there is no force we have that is readily available that could stop you… so why stay in that seat?”
Konner nods at his statements. They are very true; the cuffs would snap like twigs, the bullets would bounce off him as if they were pebbles being cast at a giant. Nothing on hand would be able to stop him from leaving if he was so inclined.
“You are right, sir; I could walk right out that door easier than you might thing. But you asked me to come in and answer questions in light of the allegations levied against me… I want to clear my name and remove the REAL threat from this world. But mostly, sir, I just want to go home.”
The commissioner nods. Konner can tell he wants to believe him, but he still has to be wary, as this circumstance is unprecedented for both men.
“Alright then, let’s say I do believe you. Who is this threat and how would you deal with him? What would the damages be on our people and just how soon after would you return home?”
Konner glances at the mirror once again; he can feel the heat of that room increase. More people are watching now.
“The man who accused me, his name is Disa’ani; his master is Xero, the one who wants to take over my world. I assure you if they find me first, they will not stop with me. Xero hates this planet and he will raze this world and leave no survivors.”
“And why would he want to do that?”
he asks. He adjusts himself against the table and his body tenses up. Konner can tell he is starting to believe him.
“Because, at the beginning of Earth’s history, he was banished here for crimes against his people.”
The commissioner lets out a laugh and shakes his head. Konner has lost him. Adjusting himself in his seat as the commissioner pushes off the table and turns to walk away, Konner calls out to h
im.
“I am not lying, sir. On my world, that would have only been twenty five to thirty years ago because of something called time dilation, which we do not have time for me to get into.”
“What proof can you give me of this?”
the older man asks, his tone has changed to that of frustration as he turns back to Konner. Immediately, Konner looks at the mirror and gazes into the infrared spectrum and sees the outline of twenty-one men watching the interview.
“Sir, just ask one of the twenty-one officers in the viewing room to look into it. It should not be very hard to find him. Look for any large-scale disasters for a man who looks like this.”
Konner presses a glyph on his bracer and an image of Xero projects itself on the table and begins to slowly turn. The commissioner takes a step back in shock at the sight of the hologram.
“Start in ancient Samaria, the Tower of Babel, go Biblical, as your people would say, and leapfrog through time./ I promise you that you will not be disappointed.”
The commissioner looks at the mirror and nods.
“Five of you get on that right away!”
he commands. The sound of a door slamming can be heard through the wall even without super hearing.
“How did you know how many people were on the other side of that mirror?”
Konner shifts the hologram into the one that he pulled up all those years ago when he was a child back on Boron of his people’s atomic structure and the atomic structure of the human race.
“These are our atoms, sir. Mine are on the left, yours the right.
What do you see?”
The commissioner moves to where Detective Young was standing as he looks intently at the holograms before him.
“Your atoms are missing electrons? How are you not dead?”
“Well, sir, it’s because my people absorb radiation, for certain, more powerful individuals, like myself. I can absorb the heat given off by living beings and that allows me to be able to see heat signatures if I choose, so I looked on the other side of that mirror.”
“Doesn’t that give off harmful radiation, like an x-ray machine?”
Konner nods and taps the side of his head.
“You are a smart man, Commissioner, and yes it does, but again, I absorb radiation of any kind. I just pull any harmful radiation back into myself so that I do not dose you or your men.”
The commissioner smirks. He opens his mouth to speak when the door bursts open and a young officer comes barreling in with a stack of papers.
“He is right sir, about everything, the Crusades, and the fall of both the Chinese and Roman empires. I mean, this guy has been everywhere, behind the scenes of major wars and famines, even genocides… He is even mentioned in Mien Kompf as being the driving force behind Hitler. After World War II, though, he just disappears. Records indicate, given they are a bit of a stretch, but hey, we have an alien in an interrogation cell, that he has been known by many names: Kronos to the Greeks, Fenrir to the Norse… you know, the wolf that kills Odin. But his most notable name is Vladimir, and he had a penchant for putting people on spikes.”
The commissioner’s jaw nearly hits the floor.
“Thank you, you can go.”
The rookie leaves. The man’s voice is soft, almost in shock.
“You weren’t lying… he really IS the bad guy.”
Konner nods.
“Worse, he is something known as the Darkness, the closest thing to the devil without being Satan himself. That is why I came in to you, to show you that I am not the mons…”
A huge explosion rocks the room. The commissioner looks at the door as Konner’s ears begin to ring. Konner peers through the wall and sees the void outline that Boronians give off.
“Sir, Disa’ani is here and he is going to try to kill me. You can either let me go and I can stop him from slaughtering all your men OR I can let myself go and you will decide if you will have to hunt me or not.”
The commissioner feels around for a key for a few seconds but can’t find one on him.
“I don’t have a key… Protect my men!”
The door to the interrogation room explodes in, narrowly missing the commissioner, who quickly retreats behind Konner. Disa’ani stands in the doorway with a bloody spear. The sight of Konner in chains brings a smile to his face.
“The High King of Boron finally takes the colors of royalty only to be chained to a table. Xero would have loved to see this.”
His words hiss from his lips like that of a serpent. Without a moment’s hesitation after that, he draws back his spear and thrusts it at Konner with all his might. With milliseconds to react, Konner lifts his arms up. The cuffs snap off his wrists like twigs, causing them to fall to the metal table with a “‘clang.” Konner dodges his head to one side and the spear misses its target as the head of the weapon passes him. Konner grabs the head of the spear as tightly as he can. Disa’ani tries to pull back, but Konner is far stronger than his old friend. With a powerful pull towards himself, Disa’ani is yanked off his feet. A look of surprise washes over his face as he soars towards his former commander. Balling his fist up, Konner slams it into Disa’ani’s chest so hard the shock from the blow shatters the mirror and sends Disa’ani flying back through the door and bouncing through the bullpen of the station. Konner turns to see the commissioner on the ground; quickly, he helps the man to his feet.
“Sir, are you okay? You need to get out of here; I will draw him away from your people.”
The gentleman finds his footing. He looks Konner dead in the eye, and a little blood begins to ooze from a small gash on his cheek.
“You are a good man, son. The men in blue will have your back from here on in.”
His strong hand pats Konner’s shoulder. A smile dances across Konner’s lips at the realization that he now has official backing from the human race, even on a small scale. Konner turns and marches right out the interrogation room door. His gaze scans the smoldering bullpen; there are bodies strewn all over the place: some with gashes on them, others with stab wounds, and a few singed from the explosion. The computer scans the room quickly.
“I am counting twelve injured, eight in critical condition, and four dead. Prevent further loss of life by removing Disa’ani.”
Konner shakes his head as his eyes lock on to this former friend as he throws his arms out, gesturing to the debris and ruin of the precinct.
“Disa’ani, stop this madness! You are going to cause more unnecessary death!”
Disa’ani, who is slumped against the far wall, glances at Konner from behind the slats in his visor. He places his spear against the ground and uses it to dauntingly pull himself to his feet.
“You are the one who endangered their lives, Konner, by not surrendering yourself to Xero. Did you really think he would not send me after you and that I would not have killed every last person in my path… to you?”
Disa’ani growls as he points his spear at Konner as he retorts,
“I did not think you would be dumb enough to come out into public like this. What were you going to tell Xero if you had managed to kill me? We both know he is the one that wants that ‘honor’.”
Konner’s fingers flex in his left hand as he prepares to deploy his shield. He knows Disa’ani and this is the point where Disa would usually attack. Konner notices the smirk that forms on his lips, the one that spreads when he gets an idea he thinks is cleaver, and they almost never are. His grip tightens around his spear and draws back to hurl it at Konner when a series of loud “bangs” ring out. Each one is accompanied by a spark on Disa’ani’s helmet, which staggers him. Konner looks over to see an officer walking towards Konner, unloading his firearm at Disa’ani. He can feel a familiar heat signature coming off of the officer. It is Emma’s. The officer continues to make his way towards Konner, stepping over rubble and injured officers in the process. A metal rectangle drops from the bottom of the weapon. In the blink of an eye, it is reloaded and the officer is firing again.
<
br /> “I got you covered. Konner. Get out of here!”
The slide on the top of the weapon locks back. The officer’s hand goes to the utility belt for another clip. There is not one. Disa’ani gets himself on balance again, and before the clip hits the ground, his spear is in the air, aimed right towards the officer’s body. Konner snaps his fingers and a spark of blue plasma encompasses his hand. He begins to run towards the officer, holding his left hand out, which drips with the sparking, dripping matter as he lines his fingertips up with his old friend. Closing his fist, the plasma launches from Konner’s hand, having focused energy from their native star to manifest. Instantaneously, the bolt of plasma hits Disa’ani, the radiation would not hurt him, but the focused force of gravity being imparted onto him by the equivalent of a mini star sends Disa’ani into the air. Konner focuses a shield around the sphere of plasma, which travels near the speed of light, so that none of its heat or gravitational influence can affect the innocents around them. Konner draws his left hand back in front of himself and slams his right hand into his bracer. Opening his fingers once again, a portal opens on the far side of the officer as the spear gets closer.