Alibi Jones

by Mike Luoma

PART OF ME WAS ONCE BC. I AM ALSO YOU. AND YOU ARE ALSO ME.

  Cryptic...

  IT IS HARD TO EXPLAIN. BUT... THAT WHICH WAS ONCE YOUR FATHER, I AM. THAT IS WHAT DRAWS ME TO YOU. THAT AND THE FACT YOU HAVE MY TALENT. MY CURSE.

  You want a curse? Fuck you, Dad!

  Alibi wonders if he can wake up. He tries to shake himself awake.

  PLEASE.

  If a voice in your head can sound insistent, this voice does. Alibi stops trying to squirm and shake his way out of the mindspace they're in.

  Is this a dream?

  NO. IT DOES HAVE THAT QUALITY, THOUGH, DOESN'T IT?

  This is all in my head, isn't it? I'm really just talking to myself, right?

  YOU SOUND JUST LIKE ME.

  Fuck you again, then. "BC!" Maybe I should try to wake up.

  Alibi tries to pinch himself.

  DO NOT DO THAT!

  The force of the thought stops him cold.

  YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIKE ME. BUT I HAVE SOMETHING I NEED TO TEACH YOU, BEFORE YOU FACE AZHUMET AGAIN. I AM BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS WHY I AM WITH YOU NOW.

  Teach me? What do you think you can teach me?

  I CAN TEACH YOU HOW TO KEEP HIM OUT. WITHOUT PASSING OUT.

  Out?

  OUT OF YOUR HEAD.

  Then that WAS him? Reaching in?

  HE TRIED. YOU STOPPED HIM. I HELPED, BUT IT OVERWHELMED YOU. NOW WE ARE HERE, AND I SEE WHAT I NEED TO TEACH YOU. YOU SOMETIMES HEAR THE THOUGHTS OF OTHERS.

  I do?

  Alibi realizes the voice is right.

  I guess I do, sometimes. Are you really my father?

  IN A WAY. I AM MANY, AND I AM ONE. BUT MOST IMPORTANT. I AM HERE TO TEACH YOU HOW TO KEEP AZHUMET OUT OF YOUR MIND.

  Yeah. Speaking of out of your mind...

  PLEASE PAY ATTENTION. PICTURE A SET OF HEAVY WOODEN DOUBLE DOORS IN YOUR MIND. MAKE THEM REAL. THE DOORS ARE REAL INSIDE YOUR MIND. PICTURE THEM OPEN. NOW, THINK OF THEM CLOSING.

  Double doors? In my mind? Why?

  DO IT.

  Picture doors closing?

  CAN YOU SEE THEM?

  Doors? Sure, why not?

  TRY! THIS COULD MEAN YOUR LIFE!

  Seeing double doors... now, seeing the doors closing.

  GOOD. OPEN THEM AGAIN.

  Open? Closed? What do you want?

  THIS!

  A brilliant "light" blanks all of Alibi's senses. A flash of illumination overwhelms him, stuns him momentarily. He feels... alone. He pictures the doors in his mind. They spring readily into his mind's eye.

  Big heavy doors. Open? Now? Can I shut them? Close!

  SLAM!

  The doors in his mind slam shut.

  That felt right... BC? Are you still there? I can do it!

  There's no answer. Alibi floats alone on the still, calm gray sea. He feels more than sees the room begin to reappear around him as consciousness returns. His head feels oddly clear, and any trace of the earlier shock induced headache is now gone.

  That was weird. Was it real? Was that my father? Or was it my head playing tricks on me? I still can't be entirely sure that it wasn't Azhumet.

  The light streaming in from outside dims. Alibi sits up. The door to the small room is open. An Eldred stands guard in the doorway. It barks something alien at him, but he can't understand it. He doesn't have his Wand. No way to translate. The furry blue koala trundles in, truncheon in hand.

  Looks like the same kind of shock stick they got me with outside.

  The Eldred stands over him, threatening with the pole and shouting something at Alibi he doesn't understand. Another Eldred approaches, appearing behind the first and chastising the other alien. The two hold a brief, barked conversation. The second one motions to Alibi to get up and follow them.

  Alibi gets to his feet and walks out the door of the small room behind the aliens. They journey down to a large room. Azhumet's been busy reconstructing his laboratory. Several enormous, clear tanks line the wall on the right, filled with a yellowish gel. Empty gurneys stretch off to the left, surrounded by banks of life support equipment and other surgical machines.

  Alibi looks around, the new lab humming with activity. The room is filled with busy Eldred hooking up equipment, filling tanks and prepping stretchers. As they walk past the tanks Alibi sees each has what looks like a wired up baby floating in the gel inside. He doesn't have a chance to look for too long. His escorts shout back at him. Alibi doesn't have to know what they are saying to know they want him to keep up with them.

  They lead him through a door on the other side of the lab, down a short corridor and into a room with a single chair. The Eldred snap at him again, making it clear he should sit in the chair.

  Alibi sits. The alien with the truncheon looks on, the electrified end of his pole weapon pointed at Alibi. The other Eldred begins rolling tape around him, securing him to the chair.

  "Hey!" Alibi protests futilely. The Eldred with the truncheon pokes it into Alibi giving him a small jolt, enough to shock him silent. Alibi glares at the Eldred with the pole. The alien growls and then pushes the truncheon into Alibi's side again with more vigor and a greater charge.

  Alibi feels every hair stand on end before he blacks out.

  He feels a change in the air around him as he groggily comes to. He sees Azhumet standing before him as his eyes begin to focus.

  "The Servants are... excitable. Somewhat over zealous. I have, perhaps, engineered them a bit too hostile this time around," the big man muses aloud.

  "No need to apologize," Alibi manages to joke.

  "Apologize? Ha!" Azhumet laughs. "I was merely thinking out loud," the large man explains. "I don't owe you anything, never mind an apology. I should kill you, or use you in my research. But... You are, for the moment, more interesting to me conscious and alive, lucky you. You owe me your life."

  "You're one of them, aren't you?" Alibi asks.

  "One of them?" Azhumet asks, feigning ignorance.

  "One of the Ancient Enemy."

  "Ah, so you ARE aware of us? That is such a quaint name you've come up with," Azhumet says, leering down at Alibi.

  "That's what the Eldred called you. They told us about you, said you were our ancestors," Alibi says.

  "In a way..." Azhumet says. "If only there were more simil..."

  "You seeded human life on Earth, they said you did," Alibi interrupts.

  "We influenced life on your Earth, undoubtedly," Azhumet explains. "Pushed it in our direction."

  "Didn't you create human DNA?"

  "You give us too much credit," Azhumet says. He laughs. "We used DNA to carry our messages. But whoever the Great Scientist was who created the Original Technology... well, that's a billion year old mystery, even to us! We assume your Earth was seeded with DNA some three-and-a-half billion years ago, when our world was 'seeded' as well. We merely decoded some of the language of the Great Scientist, the Prime Communicator, placed there to read in our DNA, and then used his language ourselves."

  "What, in our genes?" Alibi asks, encouraging him.

  If I can keep him talking I can probably keep breathing...

  "In your genes? Ha! No," Azhumet almost lectures Alibi. "Your genes make up but a small percentage of your DNA information, a mere fraction of what is contained within the double helix. The rest, I have discovered, your scientists call 'junk DNA'! Junk! The arrogance of such a label alone marks your race as our offspring. Ha!"

  "Look who's talking arrogance," Alibi cracks.

  "It is not arrogance if you truly are superior," Azhumet notes without intending irony. "You are like underdeveloped children. You may be on the way to evolving into my race, but I assure you, you are nowhere near close to our development and perfection! To me? You sound as the screeching gorillas of your jungles sound to you."

  "Nice," Alibi replies, resisting the urge to start grunting like an ape.

  "There is a divine language imprinted in DNA," Azhumet says, as if proclaiming truth as both priest and scientist. "A
universal code written in what your best minds call 'junk' sequences. When you begin to read that code," Azhumet says, almost wistfully, "you begin to decipher the universe."

  "If your race was so smart, how come you were wiped out?" Alibi challenges.

  Azhumet laughs. He looks at Alibi without saying a word.

  "What?" Alibi asks.

  "Open your eyes! The evidence before you contradicts your assertion," Azhumet points out. "I stand alive here in front of you, a member of that race you claim was wiped out. Wiped out? If that were so – how could it be that I am here? I live, and so refute your argument."

  "I see," Alibi says. "Because you're here I'm wrong?" Alibi asks. "You're not wiped out?" A frightening thought occurs to him. "Are you saying there are more of you?"

  "There will be," Azhumet says threateningly.

  "Will be?" Alibi wonders. "How?"

  Azhumet smiles a humorless smile. "Ah..." Azhumet breaks off from what he was about to say. He turns back to Alibi. "If I had not felt the touch from your mind you would already be dead," he says quickly, his voice carrying a menacing edge. "You display... traits... which show you may have developed further along in your evolution than others of your race. The information we sent here a million years ago has not spun itself out entirely, though it seems so weak, so inferior..." Azhumet trails off in thought. "Yet here you are. I plan to read your DNA to see if I can find... more of what I need. Even this form I wear now," Azhumet looks down at his strapping, muscular body, "will soon begin to degrade. The form is not yet stable. You will help me with that. In fact, I have already taken a tissue sample from you. The decoding is underway. You will be such a help."

  "How are you still here?" Alibi asks Azhumet, trying to draw back his attention. Plus he's curious. "Suspended animation? Like Dolomay?"

  "Still here?" Azhumet says with some amusement. "Not 'still' here. Here again. Back," Azhumet says with a flourish, "from the past."

  "You're kidding," Alibi says, although Azhumet's claims seem to jibe with what Krish was theorizing.

  "Kidding?" Azhumet asks.

  "You're saying you come from the past? What? You're telling me you time travel? Are you trying to claim you came here using time travel? Give me a break. There's no such thing. I know my physics!"

  "Physics?" Azhumet snaps with a sneer on his face. "Your physics are far too basic. Far too limiting. Far too proud of itself for what it has already defined – to the exclusion of the undefinable," Azhumet laughs. "When we learned the language of the Great Scientist we discovered how to transcend the 'limits' your physics transcribe."

  "Oooh! Big talk," Alibi cracks.

  Azhumet actually pounds his chest.

  "These physical bodies are nothing," Azhumet insists. "Focal points. Focusing devices at best. Containment units!"

  "You're a real romantic, aren't you?" Alibi keeps chiding the big man.

  "Time is only a constraint for these containment units. Nothing more. The essence of what we are transcends these bodies, these boundaries, these borders. And, indeed – that essence can travel through time!"

  "You're blowing my mind," Alibi says sarcastically.

  "Not that hard a task," Azhumet replies.

  Wow... maybe he has a sense of humor.

  "A sense of humor?" Azhumet asks, answering Alibi's unspoken thought. "Your race is quite amusing, actually," Azhumet notes. "As well as annoying."

  "You're saying your essence traveled through time?" Alibi asks.

  "Yes. Exactly that. If I could only... have you ever tried to explain the concept of time to your cat?" Azhumet asks him.

  "To my cat? I don't have a cat," Alibi says.

  "You know what I mean!" Azhumet counters angrily. "That is what it feels like to me, trying to put these concept into words you can understand. I feel like I am trying to explain high concepts to a low intelligence pet."

  "Meow," Alibi cracks. "You like cats? I have a friend you should meet," Alibi says, still sparring with him.

  Hope my cat-like friend Kit is okay. Would be nice if he'd show up soon.

  "Your friend the cat?" Azhumet asks, again reading Alibi's thoughts.

  "You can read my mind?" Alibi blurts out.

  "More like annoyingly overhear," Azhumet responds. "You are broadcasting."

  "Sorry."

  "So, you know a Dakhur?" Azhumet asks warily. He scans their surroundings, suddenly watchful. "And you actually believe you have a chance of being rescued?"

  "Ha!" Alibi says, enjoying a chance to laugh. "I don't 'believe' anything!" he tells Azhumet, "But rescue would be nice."

  Azhumet calls out what must be a name, "Kaffaw!" but it sounds like a cough. An Eldred appears at the door.

  "What of a cat-man?" Azhumet asks the Eldred. Azhumet is speaking the language of the Ancient Enemy, but thanks to the influence of Azhumet's mind on his own Alibi understands.

  "There was a cat-man," the Eldred says. "He got away."

  "Got away?" Azhumet asks menacingly.

  "Afraid so, sir. His ship left a while ago," the Eldred informs him. "He no longer poses a threat."

  "No longer...?" Azhumet shakes his head. "Your assessment is flawed, Kaffaw!" He swats the alien across its face. The Eldred recoils. "Get me the Tek'Tah," Azhumet commands. Kaffaw runs out of the room. It returns in a moment with a communication disc in its hands. It holds the disc in front of Azhumet, and the image of a Tek'Tah appears above the disc.

  "I require your assistance," Azhumet tells the reptilian image.

  "Our ships left there just yesterday. You require help once again?" the alien replies with a question.

  "This is a problem?" Azhumet asks in turn.

  "Well, we do have a vast expanse to control..."

  "I thought I was dealing with a mature and powerful race," Azhumet says with heavy disappointment in his voice. "I require a squadron of your ships for my protection!"

  "A squadron? Well. Tek'Tah Command will consider that request. Rest assured, Azhumet, we will have ships to you soon," the Tek'Tah tells him.

  "How soon?" Azhumet presses. "How many ships?"

  "Momentarily," the Tek'Tah answers.

  "Thank you," Azhumet says through gritted teeth. The image of the Tek'Tah disappears. Azhumet grabs the disc from the Eldred. He throws it across the room, smashing it against the wall. "Not soon enough! They do not know who they are dealing with!"

  "Used to getting your way, huh?" Alibi chides the man. Azhumet turns, looming over him.

  "Entire systems once jumped at my command! I am used to being obeyed immediately. This lack of respect is disturbing."

  Alibi tactfully changes the subject, trying to get Azhumet back on track.

  "So. How many of you time travelers are there?"

  "A superior race does not allow itself to suffer extinction without a contingency plan. All of the Elite escaped. They have already moved through time. They are moving through time. And yet, they will be moving through time." Azhumet shakes his head, realizes he isn't making complete sense.

  "It is hard to explain. They will return, when the time is right, when the way has been prepared," Azhumet says. "What? Do you think to pump me for information," Azhumet asks, becoming aware he's explaining himself to Alibi. "As if I do not see through you!"

  "Yeah, I am transparent," Alibi admits.

  "Let's see..." Azhumet stares at Alibi. Once again Alibi feels greasy dark fingers grabbing a hold of his head as Azhumet begins to delve into his mind. Alibi remembers his dream.

  Double doors closing! Double doors closing!

  SLAM!

  Alibi sees the doors close in his mind, and the greasy fingers melt away.

  "What?" Azhumet blurts out surprised and shocked. "You should not be able to keep me out like that!"

  "I shouldn't, you know? I really shouldn't," Alibi says, playing along. His arms are beginning to cramp up from being taped to the chair. He flexes his muscles, trying to keep blood flowing through his arms and legs.

 
"You are a very curious and dangerous subject," Azhumet tells Alibi. "I will have to examine your brain to see why you are different."

  "Thanks for the heads up," Alibi jokes.

  Azhumet walks up next to Alibi and pushes an injector into his arm.

  "Hey!" Alibi protests.

  "Cisatracurium," Azhumet tells him. "A good dose of muscle relaxant. If I can't get into your mind this way," he points to his forehead with two fingers, "I'll physically open up your brain instead. Cruder, but it will still yield information."

  Azhumet shouts something and four Eldred appear.

  Huh. Since I shut him out, I can't understand what he's saying to the Eldred.

  Azhumet stares at the four Eldred. A minute goes by. Alibi can't pick anything up but can only assume Azhumet's giving them non-verbal instructions.

  Azhumet turns and walks out of the room. Two of the Eldred begin cutting the tape off of Alibi. The other two leave the room.

  Alibi tries to struggle, but finds that the drug Azhumet has injected him with seems to be taking effect. He can't move his arms. He can't move his legs.

  Paralyzed!

  He can still feel pain, however. As the Eldred rip at it, the tape catches Alibi's skin a few times. Alibi discovers he can't even scream. The other two aliens return with a stretcher as their compatriots finish ripping off the tape.

  I can't move!

  Not even sure I'm breathing!

  The four Eldred roll Alibi over on to the stretcher, leaving him laying face up. They each lift a corner of it and carry him out of the room and on down the hall. He watches the ceiling pass by as he's carried. Before long he's in the lab.

  Alibi's stretcher bumps to a stop. The Eldred lift the stretcher and roll Alibi off of it on to what Alibi figures is an operating table. He can see a stack of machinery off to his left.

  Azhumet surges up, appearing on Alibi's right side.

  "Ventilator!" Azhumet barks the command to an Eldred "nurse" next to him. The alien forces tubes down Alibi's throat. Air begins flowing into Alibi's lungs.

  "Get his head!" Azhumet orders another Eldred. A moment later Alibi's scalp tingles as electric shears begin shaving the hair from his head.

  "Sensors!" Azhumet commands, and another Eldred opens Alibi's shirt and starts shaving small areas on his chest and applying small sensor pads.

  Azhumet looks at the screens next to them.

  "Hurm. The muscle relaxant doesn't seem to be working as effectively as I'd hoped. Looks like your metabolism has sped up to chase it through faster than expected. I'll just have to work a bit faster myself. Can't have you twitching as I finish up, can I?"

  An alarm begins sounding.

  The cavalry arriving?

  Help on the way, and not a moment too soon!

  "What is it?" Azhumet asks from somewhere behind Alibi's head.

  "Tek'Tah ships, sir," an Eldred tells him. "Two of them."

  Damn. Not my cavalry... and I can understand the Eldred again... is he getting back into my head?

  "They only sent me two ships?!" Azhumet says, furious. "I ordered a squadron! Get me the Tek'Tah commander!" Another Eldred brings in a new communication disc and presents it before Azhumet. A Tek'Tah soon appears in the space over the disc, on the edge of Alibi's vision.

  "This is the Tek'Tah commander. We have assumed defensive positions in orbit. You believe you will be attacked?" The Tek'Tah asks Azhumet.

  "There are only two of you? I ordered a squadron!" Azhumet fumes.

  "Your request was carefully considered by central command. It was determined that two ships were the maximum that could be spared for this possible situation, given current conditions across the Tek'Tah Expanses," the Tek'Tah explains to Azhumet.

  "Current conditions?" Azhumet asks.

  "We have... other concerns we must attend to," he is told. "We are also attempting to assist you, Azhumet, per our agreement."

  "You two will have to do, then!" Azhumet says. "Azhumet out!" Alibi can hear Azhumet crashing around, but cannot see him.

  "Two ships! They insult me!" Alibi hears him fuming. "Kaffaw! Get our two Eldred ships into orbit with the Tek'Tah. Get the Servant crews on board now."

  Azhumet appears over him. "Did you think I forgot about you? Ha!"

  He moves around above Alibi's head. Alibi feels something cold and wet slap against his head.

  What is he doing?

  "Guidelines," Azhumet answers his mental question. "Painting the proper line for the saw. Assuring an accurate cut. I caught that thought. You are still with me, are you not? Good! The cisatracurium has paralyzed you, despite your system's attempt to burn through it quickly. It won't deaden your sensations – ordinarily, they use an anesthetic along with it to dull pain. But that would interfere with the research results I require.

  "I need you awake and alert for as long as possible, so long as you are alive. In the end you will be dead, so what is a little pain along the way? I will be recording everything, even death and post death brain activity.

  "You know, it is curious to me that there is post death brain activity in you humans. This may be the biological reason your race has its beliefs in afterlives."

  Do you ever shut up?

  Azhumet grins down at Alibi, and then disappears from view. Alibi hears a high pitched whine begin.

  "Whhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeerrreeeeeeerrrrrreeeee..."

  Azhumet appears in Alibi's line of sight once again, pulling on sterile gloves. An Eldred stands next to him, surgical saw in its hands, the blade spinning and whirring.

  Azhumet straps on safety goggles and then holds out his hand to the Eldred. It places the saw in his hand.

  Azhumet then disappears out of Alibi's sight as he prepares to take off the top of Alibi's head. The sound of the saw grows louder and higher in pitch as Azhumet prepares to slice through Alibi's skull.

  Will I feel it as he starts cutting?

  Alibi closes his eyes. It doesn't help. He can still hear the saw. Then he hears something else.

  FFFFSSSSHHHAAAWW---BAM!

  A loud explosion of thunder drowns out the sound of the saw.

  "What was that?" Azhumet shouts out the question. "Katchar!" Azhumet yells at the Eldred.

  "The Tek'Tah report engaging ships in orbit," an Eldred informs Azhumet. "It appears other ships have broken past their defenses. Those ships are approaching this installation. Our Eldred ships are attempting to stop them."

  The saw grinds to silence as it's turned off. On the very edge of his vision, Alibi sees Azhumet call the Tek'Tah.

  "We have engaged Solar Alliance forces, Azhumet. We are running interference to prevent them from landing," the Tek'Tah informs him.

  "They are already landing, you idiot!" Azhumet yells at the Tek'Tah.

  "We are outnumbered and under heavy fire, Azhumet. We will hold out for you while we can, but I am afraid that will not be for much longer," the Tek'Tah tells Azhumet.

  KA-THONGUUUUMMMM!!

  The ground shakes.

  "Kattar! Report!" Azhumet commands a nearby Eldred.

  "A SAIF ship has landed inside the installation. It appears a Dakhur Cruiser has landed as well. We are moving to engage forces now, sir," the Eldred tells Azhumet.

  "Take two other Servants and begin routing all power to my Machine. I want it up and running. Now!"

  "Yes, sir."

  Azhumet reappears in Alibi's sight. He draws a pistol from his belt. Azhumet points the gun at Alibi's head. Alibi tries to think hard at Azhumet.

  What are you doing? Going ahead in time? Running away?

  "If I must," Azhumet answers his unspoken question. "It is a contingency plan, yet again. A wise man makes sure all of his options are ready, open and available. I always give myself the opportunity to jump ahead in time into another body. Should I need to."

  Into what body? Mine?

  "Do not flatter yourself!" Azhumet says with a laugh. "I have no desire to inhabit one of your race's forms ever again! So lim
ited, human flesh! No, I have created other bodies! Bodies like this one I am in now! Not perfect, but better than yours. Unfortunately it is much shorter lived. So I continue to perfect the form. That is what I have been trying to do – trying to extract traces of our DNA from your human DNA, retrieving our markers from your polluted streams, to grow proper forms, proper bodies for us to reside inside.

  "I've extracted some very interesting DNA from you, Alibi Jones! Your blood has helped me immensely. Your biology will actually help my next batch of forms grow stronger, last longer.

  "I have other bodies ready in other places like this one, other Servants at work in other laboratories. And thanks in part to you, I will soon once again live in a true body of the race! It appears now is not the time for surgery, however. I will have to settle for what I have already harvested from you. I am tempted to take you with me. Keep you alive for further study. But you are too dangerous. I have your DNA, but I no longer have any use for you. Not anymore."

  Azhumet brings the gun up next to Alibi's head. Alibi can feel the cold barrel tickle the back of his ear.

  FWAAAAAASSSHHHH!

  Alibi is blinded by a flash of red light.

  Am I dead?

  He can smell burnt flesh. He's awake and alive.

  "Aaaahhh!" Azhumet curses. Alibi blinks. He sees Azhumet cradling a burnt stump where his right hand used to be.

  Someone shot the gun out of Azhumet's hand!

  Something else occurs to Alibi – he can feel his toes moving! The muscle relaxant may be starting to wear off. He tries to move fingers, or his head. His head shifts slightly, and he can see SAIF troopers across the lab, shooting in his direction. Alibi spots Kit among the troopers in the doorway.

  "The Tek'Tah ships in orbit have surrendered, sir," an Eldred reports to Azhumet, standing next to Alibi. "They have been disabled. One of our Eldred ships has been destroyed. The other fights on."

  "Tell the other Eldred ship to retreat and await further orders at one of our emergency rendezvous points." Azhumet yells another command out to the Eldred, but Alibi can't understand his words. They stop fighting. Azhumet holds up both of his arms, his good one and his smoking stump. He calls to Kit and the SAIF troopers. "We give up! Don't shoot! I give up!"

  The troopers come up on Azhumet quickly, guns trained. Kit approaches and sees Alibi stretched out and wired up on the gurney.

  "Alibi?" Kit wonders. Then he realizes it is his friend. "Alibi!" He turns to Azhumet. "What have you done to him?"

  "Nothing!" Azhumet answers. "Muscle relaxant. You rudely interrupted my brain surgery before it could get started." Azhumet looks around the laboratory. Alibi wonders where the Machine is revving up. It has to be somewhere nearby.

  I wish I could tell Kit and the SAIF troopers about the Machine!

  Alibi tries to talk, but his mouth just won't move. Azhumet shoots a look at Alibi. When he sees that Alibi is still paralyzed, he smiles.

  BAHWHOOP! BAHWHOOP!

  The com alarm of one of the SAIF troopers goes off.

  "We've got a shitload of Tek'Tah ships showing upstairs!" The SAIF officer tells Kit. Azhumet grins.

  "No, wait!" The trooper sounds hopeful. "They say... they're not Tek'Tah!"

  The screens around them, on every piece of equipment, flicker to life. What looks like a Tek'Tah appears.

  "We are broadcasting in all languages, on all known communication frequencies," a voice begins, a slithering tongue translated simultaneously. "We are the Sar'Tah, of the Greater Tah. We have assumed the responsibility for the Tek'Tah and all their territories, as they have once again violated the terms of the Greater Tah. Our friends the Dakhur brought this to our attention. For this, we thank them.

  "As the administrators of the territories of the Greater Tah, we will soon be in communication with the Solar Alliance to discuss terms of annexation and other territorial concerns. All Tek'Tah ships are now hereby declared to be under the control of the Sar'Tah. Any ships continuing to operate as Tek'Tah ships are therefore renegades and can be destroyed upon contact without fear of retribution by the Greater Tah."

  With that, the screens go blank.

  "Shit!" The officer among the SAIF troopers exclaims. "Where'd he go?"

  Azhumet disappeared while they were listening to the Sar'Tah.

  Kit and Alibi hear the same sound they remember from back on the planetoid, a humming drone like a billion bees rubbing their wings together.

  Azhumet has turned on his Machine!

  The hair rises up off the skin of the humans and aliens as electric tension crackles around them. Static energy fills the air and then is just as suddenly gone. Nearly frozen by the ozone, the SAIF troopers shake off the effects and begin scrambling, looking for Azhumet as the energy subsides.

  "Over here!" one calls out. "He's inside of some kind of tank or something."

  "Don't touch it!" The SAIF officer orders.

  Alibi can feel his fingers and toes when he wiggles them. He also feels sort of high. Something in the muscle relaxant, probably. The tubes in his throat begin to choke him as he realizes he can feel them, too.

  He tries to move but still can't do more than twitch a little. Kit seems to understand as he comes back over to Alibi.

  "How are you?" the cat-man asks him. Alibi tries to answer but only manages muffled moans past the tubing. "I am going to risk taking these things out of you," Kit says, and he tries to gingerly pull the tubes out of Alibi's throat.

  Alibi chokes as they come out, coughing up phlegm and gasping for breath. Kit backs away from the table. Tubes out, Alibi tries to breathe. Finally he manages to whisper a couple of words.

  "Thank you," Alibi says softly. He tries to move, leaning up onto one side. The movement makes him cough again. He hacks up more mucus, spits on the ground next to the gurney. Kit deftly avoids getting mucked on.

  "You are welcome. Nice haircut," Kit jokes. "You are also quite red. Is that right?"

  "Prob'ly not," Alibi manages.

  Maybe it's my metabolism churning to burn that shit out of my system.

  Alibi tries to sit up. Sensor wires cling to his chest and hold him back. A little more effort from him and two of the sensors rip off his skin, setting him free.

  "Ouch!" Alibi barks. He pulls the rest of the sensors off with a sweep of his half-numb right arm and swings his legs over the side of the operating table, trying to stand up.

  Alibi's legs are apparently made of licorice. They fold up under him and he falls to the floor. Kit tries to help him back up. Alibi attempts to get his legs to hold him, leaning on the nearby table for support.

  "Damn. He paralyzed me with some drug, Kit. This sucks," Alibi tries to say, but the words slur out mangled from his barely functioning mouth.

  He tries willing his legs to work.

  "It's everything we feared and more, buddy," he tells Kit, words growing clearer. "This guy Azhumet is one of them. He's one of the Ancient Enemy. These Machines of his move him forward in time into bodies he's growing. And he made it sound like there are more of them on the way."

  "Well, at least the Tek'Tah will no longer be supporting him," Kit says. "Not officially, anyway. And I do not believe the Greater Tah will abide his presence in their Expanses."

  "Maybe, maybe not. Don't really know the Sar'Tah," Alibi notes.

  "The Dakhur have had many dealings with them," Kit says. "We have found them to be honest and honorable. The Greater Tah is much different than the Tek'Tah."

  "That'll be a refreshing change," Alibi says. He pushes off the table and tries to stand. He stays up, although he's still unsteady. A SAIF officer approaches.

  "Alibi Jones?"

  "I'm Alibi Jones," he replies.

  "I guess you're in charge here," the SAIF officer tells him."Sir."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes, sir. According to my orders from SAIF Command, you're the man. We're mopping up now. We rounded up all the little fuzzy guys that were running around. But it's the damdest thin
g, sir. As soon as we get them in captivity, they fade from their blue color to gray. And then they die! Don't know if any of them will be left alive."

  Would have been nice to bring a living one with us.

  "We'll bring the bodies back, then. I'm sure the Project will want to examine them," Alibi says.

  "Yes, sir. We're doing that. That's what Mr. Kit told us to do."

  Alibi looks over at Kit appreciatively. He nods.

  "It WAS why we came out here," Kit points out.

  "Thank you," Alibi replies. He tries walking, tests his balance and the strength of his legs. "Where's Azhumet's Machine?" he asks Kit.

  "Over there," Kit answers him, pointing across the lab. He turns and leads the way. Alibi follows slowly behind him. This Machine looks different from the other one they saw on the planetoid, more spread out.

  "Like a kit version," Alibi says.

  "A what? A like me version?" Kit asks.

  "No, like built from a kit, pre-fab. It's all spread out. And look, no door," Alibi notes, pointing at the square transparent tank in front of them. The tank is made out of four large, flat, rectangular clear panels sealed down their long edges.

  Azhumet evidently climbed a small scaffolding and lowered himself down into the tank. Now the body that had been occupied by Azhumet's consciousness lies on the floor of the glass tank, its face mushed up against the glass, drooling.

  "Officer?" Alibi calls over the SAIF trooper. "Let's be sure we bring this poor thing back with us, too. I'm sure the Project will want to study him. Just a big brain dead baby at this point," Alibi says. "He's not Azhumet anymore. Azhumet got away."

  "Maybe he missed his target?" Kit offers. "Blasted himself off into space?"

  "That would be nice. But he's not stupid," Alibi answers. "Besides, I think he'd still find his way into somebody... some body? The way he did with Masakov, originally. If I understand Krish, that's what happened, somewhere out there in deep space."

  "Yes, you have a point," Kit agrees. "He had no target when he came a million years into the future. I do not believe he would have deliberately have chosen Dimitri Masakov."

  "I wonder how long he's been here?" Alibi muses.

  "We can probably assume it was some time after the last war and the death of the Eldred. Or else the Eldred would not have died out," Kit deduces. He looks around the lab. "This situation appears to be under control." Kit makes to leave. "Alibi, it is good to see you in one piece. Even if you do look strange without your hair. And with blue paint on your head."

  "Thanks, Kit. You're leaving?"

  "I am. I must get the ship I borrowed back to the Dakhur homeworld. I called in a bit of a favor. But I will see you soon."

  "Oh really? How's that?"

  "Your Aunt Anita promised me dinner if I rescued you," Kit explains. "I do plan on collecting my reward!" The cat man hisses laughter. "I called her when I got away. She provided the SAIF squadron."

  "Good old Aunt Anita! Well, thanks to you both, I got to keep my head," Alibi says with a smile. He touches his now shaved scalp and pulls his fingers away wet. "Huh, still wet." His fingertips are covered with blue paint. "So, Kit, See you back on Ceres Central?"

  "You will indeed. Until then, be well, Alibi," Kit says. He turns and heads off across the lab and out the door.

  "Trooper? Could you help me?" he calls over to the SAIF officer. The officer comes to Alibi's aid and helps him limp out toward a waiting SAIF ship.

  "You shoulda seen all those Sar'Tah ships," the SAIF officer says to Alibi as he helps him along. "There were more on the tactical display than I could count. We were waaayy outnumbered! When they first arrived, and we thought they were Tek'Tah? I thought we were toast. They made short work of the two Tek'Tah that were in orbit. They were already disabled, but the Sar'Tah just blew them away. No kidding around."

  "I didn't realize they'd destroyed those Tek'Tah ships," Alibi admits.

  "Oh yeah!" The SAIF officer exclaims. "Speaking of ships, did you see the one your cat-man friend came in?"

  "I didn't, no."

  "Pretty damn sweet. Don't get to see very many Dakhur Imperial Elite Cruisers. They don't come out our way, you know? Thought those were just used by their Royal Family – but I could be wrong. We don't really know that much about the Dakhur, do we?"

  I guess maybe we don't...

  "No, we really don't know that much," Alibi agrees with the man.

  And I seem to know less and less about the one Dakhur I thought I knew...

  "Well, glad we could get you out in one piece, Mr. Jones," the trooper says as they reach a SAIF ship.

  "Thank you, officer. Thank you very much."

  Alibi limps onto the bridge of the Stinger ship for what he hopes is an uneventful trip back to Ceres Central.