The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission

by Raymond F. Klein

Mrs. Remke looked up at Jeff. “Well, Mister Trent, being kind to an unfortunate family member shows good character. I’ll let it slide this time, but next time I would like to be informed in writing.” She turned and started for the stairs. “Goodnight, Mister Trent.”

  “Yes,” Trent said, “goodnight, Mrs. Remke,” and quickly shut the door.

  Jennifer was standing next to Genghis rubbing his ear. “Daaamn!” She drew the word out. “She’s scary.”

  “Oh, don’t you know it!” Genghis agreed.

  Bollar was standing a few blocks from Chloe’s duplex. He could see Valda’s fat silhouette in the front window. He had secretly followed him here after the last time they met. He knew that Colus would have to come out sooner or later. Maybe, Bollar thought to himself, if there was some way that he could entice Colus out. Probably with a jar of that peanut butter substance, or some other food product. No, wait, he could use the Interrupter. That would definitely get Colus out. A meeting at Ray’s so Colus could get the device back. Yes, that would do nicely.

  Bollar turned and started to walk away. He had the Interrupter in his hand. He calmly shut it off.

  Jennifer was in Genghis’s bedroom, now hers, trying on another outfit when the computer on the coffee table made an alert tone. Genghis and Trent both glanced over to the bedroom door. They could hear Jennifer saying something about a little black dress she was changing into.

  Genghis quickly walked over to the computer, activated it, and then said in a whisper, “The Interrupter! It’s been shut down.”

  “Maybe it was accidentally shut off,” Trent said in amazement. “He may not even know it!”

  “That’s always possible,” Genghis said. “It’s extremely good fortune for us, though. We should patrol tonight.”

  “Yes, before he realizes it’s off.”

  “Hey!” came Jennifer’s voice from behind them, making them both jump. “Who ya talking to? I thought I heard voices.” She was standing just inside the living room by the hallway wearing the black dress.

  Jeff reached down and turned off the computer. “Ah! Just got a message from . . . HQ!” He nervously looked at her. “We have to go out for a little while tonight.”

  Jennifer walked up to them and looked at the black screen of the computer. “You got Skype on that thing?”

  Jeff just said, “Yup!” Then changed the subject. “Oh, Twinkie,” as he looked her up and down, “I like that one,” he sincerely said.

  She smiled as she looked down at herself and spun around one time, “Thanks, me too. Now I have something to wear if I ever go to the club downtown. Haven’t yet. But maybe, someday.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  It was three in the morning. The rain that rhythmically drummed on the canvas top of the replicated 1959 Ford Thunderbird had started a little after one. Jeff and Genghis were parked on the corner of 10th St. and Ninth Avenue overlooking Grant Park. In front of Genghis, his holographic computer screen was slowly switching from one camera in Old Town to another. All the cameras were operating normally, but the FBS system found no sign of Colus Valda on any of them. They didn’t think he would venture out in weather such as this so they decided to go back to the apartment. When they arrived Jennifer was still up, watching a slasher movie on the SyFy channel. She asked if he was hungry, which he and Genghis were, and put a can of Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli on the stove. Ten minutes later, the three of them were sitting on the couch, eating, and watching the mutant swing an ax at the poor unsuspecting busty blonde who had entered the ill-fated house on a dare.

  When the rain had slowly started to fall earlier that night, Bollar was standing on the corner of Seventh Street in front of a very upscale and pricey jewelry store. He had been casing this store out for a few weeks now. He knew what the employees looked like. He knew their schedules. He knew that there was only one guard present between the hours of eleven and two. He knew when new shipments came in. And he knew which banks the deposits went to.

  This was his favorite time, the night before the job. He would stand close to his intended target and rehearse in his mind every step he would take. From turning on the Interrupter, to entering, to ordering everyone to the ground, he absolutely loved that kind of power. Then he would make the manager open the locked cases. And if he or she refused, he would point the A-56 at another employee and threaten to shoot them in the back. Not to kill, but to paralyze for life, that was always a good persuasive. Then he would take the goods and quickly leave. He estimated it would take eight to ten minutes, no more.

  Yes, this was his favorite time. He tipped his head skyward and closed his eyes and let the rain fall upon him. The rain that fell was cathartic. It cleansed away any apprehensions and doubts. It purified his resolve in preparing him for the following day's endeavor.

  It was then that he heard a car, looked, and saw the white vehicle that Colus had described to him driving west toward Grant Park. The IPF agent. Could he be after Colus? He walked to the corner of the street and watched as the vehicle drove further down and parked. This could be fun, he thought to himself. Maybe Colus will do something stupid and the agent will gun him down in the street. He stood there in the rain and watched. The rain didn't bother him, he was used to being wet. It was an environment he was accustomed to. After thirty-five minutes, he got bored and walked back to his car, the one he had violently stolen on his second day in Old Town.

  At eleven-thirty the following morning, the security guard, James Parker, was sitting at his desk in Phizer’s Jewelry Store. He couldn’t explain why all three of his surveillance monitors just stopped working. He watched the snowy pictures and started to worry that maybe the cables were cut. But that’s impossible, there was a backup system that would automatically kick in and sound the silent alarm. But he was still on the primary video feed, and no alarm was sent. That’s when he saw the man walk through the double doors. The butt of the rifle the intruder was carrying was grasped in one hand with the barrel resting on his shoulder. The weapon was nothing Parker had ever seen before.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Bollar said, “this is a robbery, stay calm, and no one will get hurt.” He let the weight of the rifle's barrel fall into the palm of his other hand making a slapping sound before pointing it at the small crowd in the store. “If you would all please get on the ground.”

  Parker instinctively reacted, standing and reaching for his holstered service revolver. Bollar saw the move in his peripheral vision, something he really liked about being human. He quickly turned the barrel of his A-56 Auto Loader and fired one shot. People screamed. The cartridgeless round left the muzzle of the rifle at a velocity of 1,200 feet per second. The round struck James square in the chest. Piecing his skin and shattering his sternum, the round then started to tumble. It sliced through the right ventricle of his heart and continued on through his rhomboid muscle. It then shattered his right shoulder blade as it exited. All James felt was a thump on his chest, then nothing. He was dead before he fell to the ground beside his desk.

  People were now screaming hysterically, and Bollar had to fire two more rounds into the ceiling to get their attention. “Shut the hell UP!” He then pointed the A-56 toward the manager. “You! Get those cases open, now!”

  The manager nervously fumbled with his keys and started opening the glass cases as the man approached him. Bollar handed him a pillow case. “Start filling it up. Everything!”

  Eight minutes after he had entered, he started to leave Phizer’s Jewelry Store, but abruptly stopped and looked down at the slain guard, “Oh, what the hell,” Bollar said. “Just like old times.” With his free hand he reached into his belt and withdrew an IPF survival knife, bent down, and removed James Parker’s left index finger.

  The brutality of the robbery was the top story on local news for several days. Jeff and Genghis pored over all the police reports that they could hack into about the crime. Local police had very little to go on. No video recordings. No fingerprints. However, there were eyewitness accounts
, descriptions and artist's renderings of the robber. Genghis made hard copies of these, the only descriptions they had of Bollar in human form. The only evidence local police could gather were the odd-looking munitions taken from the ceiling and the one that embedded itself in the wall after it passed through the guard. Police investigators surmised that the robber must be making and loading his own ammunition. The metal alloy of the slugs were still, as of yet, unknown.

  Bollar’s actions at Phizer’s was not surprising: It always would take the smallest provocation for Bollar to act violently. Someone not moving fast enough. A customer talking back or trying to be a hero. Bollar would never hesitate taking care of a nuisance. He was meticulous and had a timetable to keep during his robberies, and anyone adding more time to his already tight schedule would just be eliminated. No one was quite sure why he would take fingers from some of the victims who added minutes to his schedule. Most likely they were trophies. Something he could hold, something to help him relive the excitement of the robberies. Genghis reviewed Bollar’s criminal history, the few on this planet and the many on others. The finger count was now at twenty-five.

  They decided to confide in Jennifer one night over hot dogs and coffee, since she had seen Bollar talking with Colus Valda. Jeff told her that they were working the robbery cases along with the arson cases and showed the artist's renderings to her. She was excited to be a part of the investigation and wanted to help. When she looked at the different renderings of the robber she confirmed that this was the tall man she saw at Ray’s talking with the little fat guy. She was sure of it.

  They now had something to go on.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Colus Valda had been sitting at a small table in Ray’s now for three hours. Where the hell is Bollar? Colus thought to himself. He’s always on time, never late. Four hours earlier, he had gotten a communication from Bollar on the secure frequency on his IPF radio. It was something that Prodor Moffit insisted on. He wanted all of them to take the communication devices from the transfer vehicle so they could all keep in contact. Moffit told them it would be in their best interests, but Moffit really just wanted to keep tabs on his fellow inmates.

  Bollar told Colus that he wanted to meet at Ray’s within the hour to give him back the Interrupter. The heist went almost flawlessly, but the haul would be enough for Bollar to live nicely for at least two months. Colus could never remember how many days were in an Earth month, but figured it would be a while. He had been watching the news reports of the robbery for the last few days and was expecting Bollar to contact him. And now . . .

  Where is he?

  Colus Valda sat for another hour until, not knowing what to do, he decided he would walk back to Chloe’s. He got up and walked to the door and stepped outside. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the setting sun. Then, he looked up and down the street. No Bollar, no IPF. Looking up, he spotted one of the town's surveillance cameras. He walked quickly with his back to the camera, hugging close to the wall of the building. He knew Bollar would still have the Interrupter on for him, but just in case something was wrong, he would take the long way back to Chloe’s. He knew which streets were not being monitored.

  He started worrying about Bollar as he walked. Could he have gotten picked up by the IPF agent? The local police? And if so, he might start singing like that earth bird, what was it? Oh, yeah, a canary! Bollar could tell them everything. And he had a nagging feeling that Bollar knew where Chloe’s duplex was. He sure as hell knew that the IPF agent was probably keeping an eye on his old apartment, so he couldn’t hide out there if things got hot. Anyway, Bollar knew where that was also. And what if Bollar did get picked up by the local police, did he now have to start worrying about them as well? Along with the IPF?

  At about that same time, Genghis was trying to put the artist's renderings of Bollar through the Full Body Scanning system, but to no avail. It had something to do with the fact that they were drawings and not photos or video recordings. Genghis had started to utilize different programs to help facilitate his request when his ears shot straight up. It was the garage door opening. He started to think about shutting the computer down just in case Jennifer was still with Jeff. Then he heard just one door of the cruiser slam shut and a single pair of footsteps climbing the backstairs. Jeff entered the apartment, and as he walked into the living room he asked, “Any luck?”

  “No,” Genghis replied. “You drop Twinkie off okay?”

  Jennifer had said earlier that day that she was planning on meeting Trisha and Pimples at the park. She hadn’t seen her friends in a while and wanted to treat them to a movie. Jennifer insisted that she was just fine walking, but Jeff refused to hear of it and was going to drive her. When Jeff pulled the cruiser to the curb bordering Grant Park, Trisha and Pimples were already sitting on a bench waiting for her. Jennifer thanked Jeff and got out of the Thunderbird. She told him not to worry, that she should be home by eleven and that she was fine walking home. But, if she did need to be picked up she would call. Five days earlier she had helped Jeff set up phone service at the apartment with the local phone company.

  Jeff was worrying about her movie plans and asked if she was going to “work” tonight instead. She hadn’t since she started living with Jeff and Genghis. She said no, she wasn’t planning on working anytime soon, which was a silent relief for Jeff. She thanked him again and walked over to Trisha and Pimples. Then the three of them crossed Seventh Avenue to Main Street and as they crossed in front of the cruiser Jennifer waved goodbye to Jeff. He returned her wave. Jeff watched them as they walked down Main Street, Jennifer seemingly doing all the talking. He continued watching the three of them until they turned up Third Avenue, disappearing behind a building, heading toward the theater.

  “Yes,” Jeff said to Genghis, “Trisha and Pimples were there waiting on her.”

  Without looking up from his computer, Genghis replied, “I’d like to know their stories. They're a couple of odd ducks.”

  “Yes, most likely they both had a family life similar to Twinkie's. Sad when you really think about it. Say!” Jeff said as he walked toward the kitchen, “I’m going to put some coffee on. Would you like some?”

  “Ah! Hello.” Genghis said, while rolling his eyes. “Do the twin planets of Lykins have an elliptical orbit around their sun?”

  “Well, yes,” Jeff said. “Of course they do. You know that as well as . . . Oh! Yes! I get it. Very clever, Mister Khan.”

  Genghis made a phfff sound through his mouth and said, “Of course, it was clever, Mister Trent. I’m a highly intelligent human canine.”

  “Yes, but still just a human canine, Mister Khan.” Jeff said, while getting the coffee from the cupboard.

  “Oh,” Genghis turned from the computer to look at Trent. “Are we really going there, Mister Trent? The human biped who can’t run twenty paces without stopping to catch his breath.”

  “Mister Khan, you know as well as I that I’m still working on my human endurance and lung capacity. Give me another month and I’ll be able to keep up and then surpass you.”

  “And again, Mister Trent, I say, phfff !”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Genghis was not having any luck getting Bollar’s description into the FBS system. He tried several different programs, but he still was not able to get the images into the system.

  “This isn’t working.” The Doberman said while taking a big swig of coffee. “We’ll have to go about this in a different way. If we just had an actual photo it would make our lives much easier.”

  “You know,” Jeff said, “if this is not going to work, the next time we go out patrolling, we should think about bringing Twinkie along with us. She has seen him.”

  “Jeff, I don’t know. That could put Twinkie in danger.”

  “Well, yes, I understand that,” Jeff said, “but she can help us by pointing him out. Then we follow him and locate his dwelling. But we don’t engage until we have a good apprehension plan and make the arrest on a
later date. Without Twinkie being with us.”

  Genghis thought for a moment. “Okay, that sounds to be the only option we’ve got right now.”

  The computer made an alert tone and automatically switched from the Full Body Scanning system program to one of the surveillance cameras.

  “There’s our fat boy,” Genghis remarked.

  Colus Valda was walking down one of the more quiet streets of Old Town. What he didn’t realize was that, although he took precautions, there was a surveillance camera high on the corner of a building that he didn’t see, and walked right by it.

  Jeff and Genghis were quickly descending the backstairs of their apartment, their footsteps chattering loudly on the wooden steps. “Third Avenue heading toward Seventh Street,” Genghis was rapidly saying. “No more cameras in that area, so we gotta move.” Genghis jumped onto the hood of the Thunderbird and over the windshield into his seat. Jeff got the garage door opened, then quickly slid behind the wheel and started the cruiser.

  Jennifer, Trisha and Pimples were in the middle of a small crowd leaving the two-screen movie theater that was first built in 1921 and then renovated in the mid 1970's. “That was pretty good,” Jennifer was saying. She finished the last of her drink and threw the cup in a trash can, then wiped her hands on her jeans, “I think Anne Hathaway is so pretty and I liked the way the movie ended.”

  “It was okay, I didn’t get it,” Pimples said with a shrug.

  “What do you mean you didn’t get it?” Jennifer asked, not understanding.

  “What do you mean ‘What do I mean?’” Pimples asked.

  Jennifer looked at him and crinkled her face. “What do I . . . Huh?”

  “I just don’t like chick flicks.” Pimples said, while looking at the ground.

  “That wasn’t a chick flick. Are you kidding? It had a dragon in it! Trisha?” Jennifer turned to her for a little support. Trisha just shrugged her shoulders and said nothing.