The Hidden Treasure of Darfor

by David Shewring

Lieutenant Tuk walked at a brisk pace along the corridors of his precinct building. He stepped into his office and jabbed the wall contact with a stubby thumb, which caused the door to slide shut and lock with a low clunk sound. Satisfied that he would not be interrupted, Tuk marched over to his desk and put the pile of files that he had been carrying down on the somewhat grimy surface.

  He sat down in his large, comfortable chair and whispered to the computer in a quiet voice, ‘Suspend all monitoring sensors in this room. Authorisation Tuk, pass-code Gurrilan seven seven two.’

  The computer beeped in response and a message flashed up on the screen confirming that all sensors and recording devices had been turned off. Satisfied that the room was secure, Tuk then proceeded to lean back into the padding of the chair and put his feet up on the desk. He grabbed a nearby container and downed the contents, slurping noisily as he drank. The container was soon empty and after giving it a gentle shake to make sure there wasn’t any more of the beverage left inside, the lieutenant tossed it towards a large, overflowing bin adjacent to the desk. He missed and the container bounced off the wall and landed on the carpeted floor with a soft bump. Sighing, Tuk put his hands behind his rather bulbous head and closed his eyes. Before he could drift off and enjoy his nap however, he was startled into sitting up straight by a beeping sound coming from the computer.

  ‘Computer, what is it?’ he snapped angrily.

  ‘Incoming transmission on a secure com channel,’ answered the computer in a monotone voice.

  Suddenly, Tuk sat bolt upright and his eyes widened.

  ‘Source of the transmission?’ he asked nervously.

  ‘Unable to trace transmission source. Com channel has been secured with quad-level encryption,’ replied the computer.

  The Lieutenant gulped audibly. There was only one person who would ever contact him using that level of secrecy.

  Tuk scrambled to clear various empty packets and messy files out of the way as he said, ‘Computer, display transmission immediately.’

  One of the monitors on Tuk’s desk suddenly burst into life and showed a small man with a bald head and dark glasses resting on his sharp, slightly pointy nose. The creature was dressed in an immaculate and clearly expensive suit and was sitting in a fairly dark room with the only illumination provided by monitor screens and beeping lights which were just about visible in the background.

  ‘Lieutenant Tuk,’ said the man on the screen.

  ‘M-Mr Vallan,’ stammered Tuk as he attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt with sweaty hands. ‘H-How are you?’

  ‘I’ve been better but I shan’t complain,’ answered Mr Vallan as he clasped his bony hands together. ‘Let me get straight down to business.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ said Tuk.

  ‘I have another shipment of product coming in on the south side of your precinct tonight. I expect you to route patrols away from this area for three hours, starting at 21:00 local time.’

  ‘It will be done. And I take it you will be moving some of the slave girls from your club in the Zalnar district as per usual?’

  One could not be certain but it seemed as if Mr Vallan’s eyes narrowed behind his dark glasses. His body certainly tightened up after Tuk said this.

  ‘Do not presume to tell me my business arrangements or movements of my products, Tuk.’

  ‘I was only trying to-’

  ‘I know, you were trying to both impress me as well as distract my attention from the disgusting mess of empty food packets you have hidden in your pockets. There is no need for either. Just do what I tell you.’

  The Lieutenant’s face fell.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And yes, I will be moving some of the older slave girls from the club to make room for some of the younger ones I have recently acquired from the pleasure resorts in the Lyquatraz system. Put your usual men on that task, will you?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Vallan. Oh, there is one thing that I have to mention.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Your name turned up in one of our investigations into drug running but don’t worry, I put an end to that line of inquiry. You have nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Good, good. I would hate for any unwanted police attention to force me to delay or even cancel certain discreet payments that I make every month.’

  ‘Of course, Mr Vallan,’ said Tuk, understanding that that was an indirect reference to the thousands of credits of payoffs that he received every month for turning a blind eye to Vallan’s less than legal activities.

  ‘Fine, then we understand each other. I have to go now Lieutenant but I will be in contact within the week to organise the next series of shipments and drop-offs. Goodbye.’

  Before Tuk could say anything else, Mr Vallan made a signal to somebody off-screen and the monitor on the Lieutenant’s desk went blank as the transmission ended. Tuk sat there staring at the black screen in silence for a while, before taking a deep breath and letting it out all in one go.

  ‘That guy thinks he’s so much better than me,’ he grumbled as he pressed a button on his computer terminal and several monitors all flashed into life. ‘I’d like to show him one of these days...’ he muttered as he reluctantly began altering the patrol schedule for 21:00 that evening.

  Meanwhile in the dark room filled with screens and flashing lights, Mr Vallan used a spindly finger that was reminiscent of a spider’s leg to push his glasses further up on his nose. He was reading various messages that had been sent to him regarding various jobs – drugs, blackmail, theft, slavery – the list was endless (it certainly was hard work being a crime lord in this day and age). Suddenly he was interrupted by one of his underlings.

  ‘Sir?’ said a young male alien cautiously.

  He was not much older than your average adolescent – his body was slim and his skin smooth. He was dressed in a light-coloured shirt and wore expensive trousers that complimented his equally expensive shiny shoes (Mr Vallan did not like to look at unattractive things so he made sure that his “associates” as he called them were always well dressed in the finest clothes). His eyes were bright and intelligent but mostly they remained fixed to the floor or a computer screen – he rarely made eye contact with anyone.

  ‘What?’ barked Mr Vallan without taking his eyes off the messages he was reading.

  ‘I, uh, have some information that I think you would like to know,’ said the underling somewhat nervously.

  His eyes made their way up to look at Mr Vallan for a moment before quickly darting downwards to stare at the floor again.

  ‘Do I have to do everything myself around here? Am I the only one capable of making decisions?’ muttered Mr Vallan as he turned around in his chair. ‘Go on then, tell me,’ he demanded brusquely.

  ‘We have received a message from one of your cells in another system.’

  ‘So what? We receive messages from all over the galaxy – we have spies in every government and people on every planet that do work for us.’ Mr Vallan was about to turn around in his chair and resume checking his messages until the underling spoke again.

  ‘But sir, you asked to be notified if anyone brought you information about the lyan known as Saleek.’

  That did it. Mr Vallan gave the boy his full attention and one side of his mouth began to curve upwards into a half-smile. Or perhaps half-sneer would be a more accurate description.

  ‘And?’ he prompted.

  The underling gulped before hastily continuing, ‘He has been spotted on a remote planet in the Barren Lands. Your people report that they have captured his companion and are pursuing the lyan.’

  Mr Vallan did not say anything but his sneer grew and contorted into a grotesque-looking smile.

  After a while of extremely uncomfortable silence, the underling ventured, ‘Um, sir?’

  ‘Good. Very good. I was wondering when that spiky troublemaker would show up again,’ said Mr Vallan, rubbing his hands together as he imagined various ways he could torture Saleek and h
is human friend.

  ‘What do you want to do, sir?’

  Mr Vallan’s thin lips parted and exposed his filthy, sharp teeth.

  ‘I’m going to take care of this personally. I want to show people what happens when they steal from me – ready my ship and prep for takeoff immediately! Plot a jump to the Barren Lands at once!’