Ichiro paused, and took a large gulp from his glass of saki.
“Major Chiba cut in front of the delta and turned directly into the craft, ramming him, as pilots in World War Two had sacrificed themselves for others, for Japan.”
Ichiro was silent for another moment or two. Finally, he spoke. “On that day, I swore I would kill ten Squid for Captain Chiba. I have two more to kill.”
The two warriors sat quietly. Torbin was the first to stir.
“A toast, Ichiro.” Torbin interjected. “To all our comrades in arms, who have died, fighting the good fight. May their memory never fade, and our bravery do them honor.”
“Hai. Kempai.” They emptied their glasses, and Torbin refilled them.
“Before we are completely shit-faced, Ichiro, I must have you show me how you kill a Squid with your katana.”
Ichiro laughed. “I am willing, but we are short a Tschaaa to use as for our demonstration.”
Torbin slyly smiled. “Watch me work my magic, Ichiro.”
He walked across the room, and pulled a large frame from the shadows into the room’s center. At the top was a rather thick roll of unknown material.
Torbin took a quick step to one side. Ichiro, sensing something was up, stood up, right hand on the hilt of the katana that he carried by his left hip.
“Ichiro, please meet our special guest.” Torbin pulled loose the restraining tie and a very exact 3D representation of the recovered Tschaaa, unraveled to the floor. Torbin had scarcely taken a breath to speak, and it was all over.
There was a blur of motion, the sounds of slashing. The Tschaaa model was sliced in three pieces, along the axis of the Squid’s tentacles. Ichiro was now standing stock still, the katana he gripped in both hands still impaling the Squid’s right eye perfectly.
Torbin gulped. “Well, so much for that training aid.”
Ichiro smoothly sheathed his katana. “I am sorry if I destroyed something you need. It was an automatic reaction.”
Torbin walked over to his desk and retrieved his Ka-Bar fighting knife.
“So, if the Tschaaa had a blade… ”
The katana blade was already at his throat. “Remind me never to make you mad.”
Ichiro sheathed his katana once more, and bowed. “I apologize, Torbin-San. I have maybe had too much to drink.”
“Oh no you haven’t. I wanted an example, and you gave me one. Have you always been this fast?”
“Yes, Torbin-San. Some medical specialists once said that I have the fastest reflexes in the Japanese defense forces. Why, I do not know.”
“Hell, I do. It’s called karma. You are destined to carve up Squids. Here, another drink, if you please.”
At that moment, there was a light knock at the door. “Who the hell....?” Torbin strode over, and flung open the door, Ka-Bar still in his hands.
On the other side stood the three Russian female officers, a bottle of Vodka and glasses in their hands. The senior officer, a Captain, cocked an eyebrow, and looked at Torbin and his knife. “I see you are playing with your man toys. May we join?”
“I have never turned down three pretty women with a bottle of vodka in my life,” Torbin replied. He stood aside, bowed, and swept his arm toward the center of the room, beckoning them inside. “‘Come into my parlor,’ said the spider to the flies.” The three women laughed, and entered.
They wore matching fleece workout gear, as if part of a sports team. The sweats were baggy enough to conceal some of their fit curves, but not all. Aleksandra, the Captain with black hair, suddenly took notice of Ichiro. “Excellent. More company.”
Ichiro stammered, and tried to move toward the door. “My apologies, Tor-san, but I must go...”
“Whoa, hoss. You cannot leave me outnumbered three to one. Even a Marine has his limitations.”
“I... I…,” Ichiro stammered again.
“Excuse us for one minute ladies.” Torbin grabbed Ichiro by the arm and escorted him to his back bedroom.
“Ichi,” he began. “Are you married?”
“Well, no, I...”
“Good. Then think of these ladies as three wandering geishas who have come to entertain the conquering samurai. ”
“But...”
“Lieutenant. You still owe me for the training aid. It’s also wise to accept an offer of hospitality. In the name of good international relations.”
Ichiro sighed. “Yes, I owe you for the training aid. And for you, Tor-san, and for our countries, I will sacrifice myself.”
Torbin wondered if Ichiro was bullshitting him with the last statement. But it did not matter. Three specimens of outstanding womanhood were in his room, and must be provided entertainment becoming of their ranks and positions.
“Good. Follow me.” He returned to the main room, arms outstretched. “Ladies, in the name of full disclosure, there is absolutely nothing of any intelligence value in my room, so if you have any ideas...”
Three gorgeous women were standing in his living room, in their underwear.
Aleksandra caught his eye. “I think, Mister Spider, that the flies already have ideas of their own.”
It was going to be an interesting night.
Torbin awoke with Afanasiy, a gorgeous blonde, gently kissing his back. He glanced at the clock. 5:00am. Due to the late night briefing, and trip fatigue on the part of the visiting military members, the General had told everyone that he did not want to see anyone before noon. This could not have come at a better time. He started to turn toward Afanasiy when another set of lips began to kiss his chest. Aleksandra, the Captain, was also demanding attention. He tried to position himself equally between the two women, when they became cognizant of what the other was trying to do. Rapid fire whispered Russian began between the two. Torbin did not speak Russian, but he could imagine, by the tone of voice, what was being said. Torbin decided it was time to stop them before things turned nasty. “Ladies. I have hot water in my shower, and plenty of high quality shampoo.” At that, both women rose from the bed, and made their way quickly to the shower.
Inna, the third Russian, apparently watching the conflict, had untangled herself from Ichiro on the couch. The mention of a hot shower and soap apparently had magical powers, after a long and dirty trip. Torbin chuckled at the mercurial attitude of womanhood and stretched.
Ichiro was beginning to snore, so Torbin rose and tiptoed to the couch. He bent over and whispered in a high falsetto voice into Ichiro’s ear, “Oh, my big Samurai, wake up. I must have more.”
Ichiro smiled with closed eyes, muttering some pillow talk, and reached a hand upward which touched Torbin’s beard stubble. His eyes popped open, and he began to curse in Japanese, as he tried to untangle himself from the blanket. Torbin jumped back, laughing. “Rise and shine sweetcakes, if you want some hot water in the shower.”
Ichiro recovered quickly, and stood up with an embarrassed grin on his face. “You Americans. Always such jokesters.”
“Oh come on, Ichi-san. I saw those Japanese game shows your people used to produce. You loved practical jokes. We even started copying them.”
“You did say a hot shower?” Ichiro repeated.
“Yessir. You just have to share it with three Russians.”
Ichiro’s face broke into a broad grin, and he marched toward the bathroom in his boxers, showing off his muscular torso, and whistling a Japanese military tune. He must rise to the call of duty once more.
CHAPTER 7
NEW CAPITAL, KEY WEST, FLORIDA
My examinations of the workings of the Director’s organizational skills revealed he had an excellent knack for finding people with the expertise he needed for certain specific projects and functions. Often, these people came with emotional and personal baggage that must be dealt with in order for them to fulfill the desired task. But of course, all surviving members of the human species at that time had psychological, social and emotional scars from years of the threat they or their children would be eaten by the Tschaaa, myself incl
uded.
One such married couple whom the Director had located, Professors Joseph and Sarah Fassbinder, would have much to work out before they played important parts in the history of the New Capital of Tschaaa-Controlled North America in Key West.
- Excerpts from the Literary Works of Princess Akiko, Free Japan Royal Family
-
While Torbin was waking up Ichiro, Joseph Fassbinder was also being woken up. But he was not in bed. Instead, he was propped up against a small tree about two blocks from the auditorium.
After his blow up with his wife, he had made a concerted effort to get shit-faced. He needed a good buzz, he deserved a good buzz, so he worked at and got himself a good buzz. He had used all his alcohol credits at the bar, just before being cut off by the bartender.
When the barkeep became distracted by a very attractive young woman in a revealing cocktail dress, Joseph had swiped a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and disappeared toward the exit, bottle expertly concealed under his suit coat, which was a tad loose due to his undernourished frame.
The security troop let him leave, as they had been told some of the new personnel had assignments in the morning. Besides, this was a free twenty-four hour installation, with the perceived threats coming from the outside, not the inside the base.
He had wandered for a while, making a concerted effort to finish the near full bottle in the shortest amount of time possible, before being forced to use the tree as a support. He then passed out.
Joseph heard a male voice. “Sir. Sir. Time to wake up. The party’s over.”
He struggled to slowly open his eyes, and found himself looking into the face of one of the biggest men he had seen, in full battle rattle. He saw stripes on his arm that Joseph recognized as a Sergeant.
“Sorry, Sergeant. I guess I dozed off and lost track of time.” He tried to stand up, and fell forward, caught at the last minute by the Sergeant.
“Whoa, Sir. Just sit there down for a moment until you get your balance. We do not need a busted face the second day here. Oh! Good morning, Ma’am.”
The Sergeant tried to prop him up against the tree to free his right hand for a salute. Joseph proceeded to fall backwards. Someone caught him, and he heard a woman’s voice. “Good morning yourself, Sergeant. It looks like my morning run is going to be interrupted.” Suddenly, he felt another pair of hands support him, and the women’s voice was closer. “And good morning to you as well, Professor. Based on the smell, I take it you did not make it back to your quarters last night.”
Joseph managed to finally focus his eyes. He vaguely recognized Major Jane Grant in her sweatshirt and shorts. “Good morning, Major. Where am I?”
“You are a few blocks from my quarters, a shower, and a few cups of coffee. Sergeant, if you could help me with transportation, I will take this problem off your hands. I need to try and get him to work today.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Major. This saves me a ton of paperwork.”
Ten minutes later, with the help of the two additional sets of hands, he was sitting on the Major’s couch.
“Thanks for the ride, Sergeant.”
“Oh, thank you, Major. Good luck.” Joseph heard the front door shut.
He started to nod off again, but was woken up by two feminine hands unbuttoning his shirt. He started to protest, and then decided he liked the feel of the hands and the nice smell of the owner.
“Mm, I like your perfume, Major.”
Jane laughed. “That’s called ‘eau du sweat’, Professor. It’s easy to come by around here. And, if you help me, this will be a lot easier and quicker. You desperately need a shower.” With the Major’s assistance, he was in the shower in less ten minutes.
Joseph leaned against the stall wall, cool water from the shower head beating on the top of his head, then running down his face and chest. He just might live. Suddenly, the shower stall door opened, and a face appeared. “Gangway, Professor. I need to clean up too.”
“Wait a minute, Major. We haven’t been properly introduced,” Joseph protested.
“You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” she responded. “But if you are going to be bashful, I’ll give you a little more time. Then, out of the pool.”
In five minutes, he was sitting on a clean towel in the kitchen. Another ten minutes later, and Jane came up and tossed him a set of boxer shorts and a man’s undershirt. “Here, I wear these around my place when I’m relaxing. They should fit you. You’re pretty damn skinny right now. You’ll need some more meat on your bones if you are going to ride a rocket in a couple of month.
“Now that you are mostly sober and somewhat more presentable, allow me to formally introduce myself.” She smiled. “I am Major Jane Grant, the Director’s Operations Officer. You are Professor Joseph Fassbinder, who I am told will be helping us to obtain regular space travel again, with some additional help from the Squids, of course.”
Joseph sighed, and said “Major, I wish to humbly apologize for this trouble. I owe you.”
Jane handed him a cup of hot coffee, and two large donuts. “Here, this will help soak up the alcohol. No, you do not owe me anything, for two reasons. First, because we all work together here to survive in a crazy world inhabited by BEMs… that’s bug-eyed monsters.”
Jane took a sip of her coffee. “Second, do you happen to remember a Marcia Brand from your Mission Specialist Training for the Space Program, just before the rocks hit?”
Joseph got his wheels turning in his head, remembering a different time in a different place. “Yes, I do. She was one of the sharpest young ladies I have ever met. She was training as a spaceplane co-pilot, the youngest ever accepted.”
“She was a cousin of mine, who was like a sister. She had the utmost respect for you. Had a bit of a crush on you as well. She told me you were one of the nicest people she had ever met, as well as the most brilliant. But in my book, nice beats out brilliant.”
Jane took another drink of coffee. “She’s dead now. Unfortunately, probably some Squid fed her remains to their young. I also help you in her memory, as she would have wanted it.” Tears appeared in Jane’s eyes. “Excuse me.” She walked out to her bedroom.
Times like this reminded Joseph that just about everyone had been screwed over in one way or the other. They were all just making the best of it. The Tschaaa had changed human dynamics drastically, most likely forever. Now, they tried to keep a resemblance of humanity while trying to survive. Damn.
Joseph put the boxers and shirt on. They fit. Apparently, he had lost a lot of weight, and not in a good way. He wolfed down the donuts, suddenly starving. Jane came back with his suit pants that she was brushing out, and a windbreaker. “These will do today. We do not stand on formality, unless you’re in uniform. Those standards are tougher. Ms. Monroe, because she will be in the public eye as a representative of the Director, will soon realize that’s like.”
At the mention of Kathy’s name, the memory of what Sarah had done flooded back.
“Major, I need to apologize to Ms. Monroe for...”
“Never mind. Ms. Monroe is the proverbial tough cookie. It was water off a duck’s back.”
“Now, if you will excuse me, I need to finish getting ready.” Jane walked back to her bedroom.
Only then did he realize she had been standing there only clad in her bra and panties. He had not been this relaxed with a woman in years.
Adam was moving slowly, recovering from a very late night entertaining the new arrivals. He had danced with every woman who had wanted to, more than one dancing with him just long enough to whisper a thank you in his ear, especially those who were mothers. And of course, Mary Lou, Jeanie, and Jamey each took a turn to trip the light fantastic. The highlight of the evening, however, was when Adam felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to face Kathy, who said, “My turn, Boss. If you please.”
She had a smooth rhythm and, as he held her, he noticed strong back and shoulder muscles he had somehow missed during their ear
lier encounter. She held him firmly, with strong fingers and arms that befit someone who worked at keeping in shape. As the song ended, Kathy kissed him on the cheek.
“Time for me to turn back into a pumpkin. I need to get a good night’s sleep. I think Major Grant’s going to try and work my ass off tomorrow.”
Adam grinned. “I hope not. I rather enjoy your posterior where it is. I’m certain you’ll do just fine. I’ll be in contact when I can.”
Kathy wrinkled her nose and flashed her signature smile. “I wouldn’t mind some more dance time alone. Especially if is horizontal.”
Adam laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t think I could forget that.”
Kathy squeezed his arm. “‘Night, Boss.” She slinked off, her sexy walk drawing many an appreciative stare from the males in attendance, and causing a few bruised arms for the husbands.
Now, 7:00am the next morning, Adam once again wished that he had a clone, so he could be in two places at once. The hard truth, however, was that duty called today. He had to meet the Lord.
His radio phone pinged.
“Yes, Chief.”
“Boss, I have a Professor Sarah Broadmore who says she really needs to see you. Her husband is missing.”
Shit. He needed this like he needed a hole in the head. “Send her up, Chief. Mary Lou has the morning off.”
Adam quickly dressed in his tactical pants and shirt, which he wore when travelling to visit the Lord Neptune. He waited out by Mary Lou’s desk in the front office.
Sarah burst through the doors, dressed in slacks and shirt. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail that should have made her look younger. But her face was pale, and she looked like she had aged ten years.
“Joseph is missing.” Her chin quivered while she attempted to regain some composure. “He never came back to the room last night. He started drinking, and then disappeared. He has never done this before. Ever.”
Adam gave her a hard look. “Can you blame him? You’ve basically acted like you’d just as soon castrate him, than spend any time with him as his wife.”
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