by Sean Robins
“You can read the Akakies’ facial expressions now?” Mushgaana chuckled. “I didn’t notice anything in his thoughts. Maybe he was just happy about the treaty?”
“With all due respect, Your Highness, you weren’t paying attention to him. If it had occurred to me at that time, I would have asked you to read him. No. This was the look of a predator sizing up his prey. Trust me. I would know. Whoever he is, he is up to something.”
“He is an Akakie. What is he going to do? Make us all laugh to death? You are getting paranoid in your old age, my friend.”
They entered the command ship’s bridge together. The Xortaag officers on duty stood at attention. Mushgaana continued, “Stop worrying. Let’s go get ourselves a new planet.”
Tossing and turning in his bunk, Tarq had a hard time falling asleep. He had not had a decent night’s sleep since the fall of Alora. With the fate of their civilization in the balance, it would be a surprise if he achieved one any time soon.
His communicator buzzed. It was his assistant, Lieutenant Barook. “Sorry to disturb you, but the Xortaag fleet has just left Alora, moving towards Earth, as predicted.”
Tarq was filled with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, it was an immense relief that his plan was working. If he had been wrong, the last few months’ hardwork would have been a huge waste of resources, and once his government found out what he had done without authorization, they would execute him for treason, along with Barook and a few hundred other people who had put their trust in him. On the other hand, being right meant the survival of his entire species rested on his shoulders. Thinking about that made his hearts skip a beat.
He jumped out of his bunk. “It is a good thing we are ready. Operation KGAFUP is a go then.”
Barook sounded confused. “I must have missed that memo. Is this our new code name? What does it mean?”
“Operation Kick the Gods’ Ass back to their Fucking Ugly Planet,” Tarq answered.
Barook laughed. “It is a good name. I feel sorry for the humans, though. They did not deserve this.”
“Me too. But there is no need for the two of us to feel guilty. At least now with our help, they have a fighting chance.”
Before disconnecting the call, Barook said, “By the way, what you pulled today was genius, even for someone with your reputation.”
Tarq chuckled. “Just wait to see what I have planned for tomorrow.”
Chapter Five
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a windowless room with white walls, floor, and ceiling. The room was the size of a basketball court, and most of it was empty. I was sitting on a white, comfortable sofa, wearing white clothes and shoes. Next to me, Liz was lying on the same sofa, her eyes closed, wearing a white dress. Not like a wedding dress or a sundress, more like one of those 19th or early 20th-century garden-party dresses you see in period movies. It wasn’t quite her style—too high-necked, and her legs were covered—but she looked fantastic. For a moment I just watched her chest rise and fall.
Soft music was playing in the room. Hymns, I thought vaguely, though there were no words to jog my memory. A short man wearing a white tuxedo was standing in front of us. I couldn’t see his face since his bright halo threw it into shadow.
He had huge, outspread white wings extending from his shoulders.
I blinked and looked around. I felt foggy. The last thing I remembered was standing in front of a firing squad. Now I was here, Liz beside me, meeting a man who was the very picture of an angel. There was only one conclusion I could draw: Liz and I were in heaven.
And Venom was quiet. Yep. This was definitely heaven.
One problem, though: I was agnostic, which was only one step away from being an atheist. What the hell—no pun intended—was I doing in heaven? At least Liz was a devout Catholic. Maybe I was here on account of her?
Liz sat up and looked at me with sleepy eyes. She gasped and covered her mouth, then burst into tears and threw her arms around my neck. Between her sobs, I barely made out her saying, “I thought I’d never see you again.”
I held her hand, trying to comfort her. I wondered what exactly people did in heaven. Could we have sex? I heard voices behind me. I turned my head and saw Kurt and Allen, also wearing white, looking around, eyes wide.
The Super Assassin and the Butcher were also in heaven? This was getting weird.
The man in front of us, in a very deep voice that in my considered opinion sounded divine, said, “Welcome.”
“Um. Hello,” I said. “Are you . . . ?” Was there a particular angel who welcomed you to heaven? Was I supposed to know? Elizabeth prided herself on her social savoir-faire, so she probably knew.
“Please allow me to introduce myself.” He snapped his fingers, and both the halo and the wings disappeared. He looked Native American, with brown skin, black hair, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped eyes. He was wearing a white hat with a blue peacock feather on it.
Okay . . . maybe heaven has weirdos?
He continued, “My name is Commander Tarq, and no, unfortunately, you are not in heaven, and I am not an angel.”
Then he burst into laughter. “But you should have seen the look on your faces!”
Dumbfounded, we looked at each other. This whole you-are-dead-and-in-heaven thing was a freaking prank? Who on earth would do that? Liz was clutching my arm. I considered kicking his teeth in, but I was too calm, almost listless. Kicking someone sounded like too much effort.
The man—Tarq—just stood there with a massive grin on his face, looking like a child waiting to be praised. Our lack of reaction obviously disappointed him since he moaned, “Come on! This was really good. Do you have any idea how much time and energy I put into planning this?” Then he continued under his breath, “Maybe I should not have combined sedatives with the prank.”
Sedatives? What sedatives?
The door opened, and another small man who also looked like a Native American but had a full bushy black beard walked in. I didn’t know Native Americans could grow a beard, especially one as thick as this one. The last time I’d seen a beard like that, it was on a guy preaching about the end of the world in the subway. In shorts. In December. With a cat on his head. This guy looked more normal, in white pants and t-shirt. A small robot that looked like a vacuum cleaner with arms followed him, pushing a trolley. There were apples and pears, a few sandwiches, and something that looked like orange juice on it.
“This is my assistant, Lieutenant Barook,” said Tarq. “Our doctors have already taken care of you, but you need to eat to regain your strength. And you are all slightly sedated, in case you are wondering why you feel so calm.” He looked at Liz who was still sobbing and added, “Relatively.”
That explained why I was not freaking out. Kurt and Allen each took a sandwich, but I was holding Liz’s hands. I decided to eat later.
Tarq took a big Sherlock-Holmes-style pipe out of his pocket, lit it, took a draw and said, “You must have a million questions, but this will go faster if I talk and you listen for now. First things first: This is how you all escaped from the prison.”
He turned on a VR screen behind him on the wall. It was a news program. An excited blond reporter who reminded me of a ferret was reporting live from in front of our prison. She said the executions were in progress inside. Then a freaking spaceship—yeah, white—appeared out of nowhere on top of the prison. The ship looked like an oversized flying saucer: It was oval, and its semi-major axis was at least 180 feet. It had an aerodynamic shape and twin engines on its sides.
The spaceship hovered there for a few seconds, then it emanated a greenish blue beam that encompassed the prison and its surrounding area. The reporter and everyone around her fell on the ground, apparently unconscious. The feed changed to another camera, still filming.
Tarq explained, “This one is ours.”
Two small shuttles left the spaceship and landed inside the prison. Five air force F-44 jet fighters showed up and tried to engage the spaceship, but it sh
ot them down using a laser-like energy weapon.
“Wow!” I said, eloquent as ever.
“This is just a cargo ship, and not particularly well-armed,” said Tarq. “Wait until you see our space fighters.”
“Actually, the cargo ships are very impressive too,” said Barook. “They can carry up to eight hundred people if we remove the shuttles. We have fifty of those right here.”
The shuttles returned a few minutes later.
“With you guys inside,” said Tarq. “No need to thank me all at once. You are welcome.”
Liz and I looked at each other with our mouths open. She asked Tarq, “You’re an alien?”
I said, “Well, dah,” and raised my right hand in a Vulcan salute aimed at Tarq.
Tarq smiled and nodded.
“Why did you help us?” Kurt asked.
Tarq responded, “The answer to this question is complicated. I have prepared a presentation. So, sit back, relax and enjoy my masterpiece.”
The “presentation” was a holographic movie, with a voiceover by Tarq himself. Tarq paused the movie several times to offer comments. It lasted nearly an hour, during which I kept asking Liz to pinch me to make sure I was not dreaming. The fifth time I asked, she got fed up and pinched my arm so hard it left a bruise the size of her palm.
The movie showed us there were hundreds of space-faring species in the galaxy (I knew it!). Tarq’s people, the Akakies, were an advanced and peaceful civilization. There was also a humanoid warrior species, the Xortaags. Technologically, they weren’t as advanced as the Akakies—no other race was—and they spent most of their time either fighting each other or having meaningless skirmishes with the neighboring planets. Moreover, their planet, Tangaar, was slowly dying due to overpopulation and pollution, so despite their violent tendencies, the Akakies hadn’t considered them a major threat.
More than a hundred Earth years ago, the Xortaag king’s youngest son, Prince Mushgaana, met an idealistic young fleet officer, a then-Commander Maada. Maada believed the only way his species could survive was colonizing other planets. He didn’t stop there: He dreamed of a galaxy under the Xortaags’ rule.
“So he basically wants what our fathers dreamed of, only on a larger scale,” I whispered to Kurt.
Anger flashed in his eyes. “We wanted a democratically elected government, not an absolute monarchy!”
I held my palms up. “Dude, I’m just messing with you.”
Mushgaana manipulated his father to appoint Maada as the commander of their fleet, and to let them plan their first all-out military campaign. Under Maada’s command, they conquered several planets and expanded their empire considerably. In the early days of their campaign to rule the known universe, they reverse engineered a mind-control technology they found on a defeated planet, which gave them an enormous advantage
“Mind control? How does that work?” I asked.
Tarq paused the movie and glared at me. “I’ll get to that. Please be quiet.”
“The CIA tried that back in the 1950s,” said Liz. “I think they used LSD.”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” Tarq asked, his hands on his hips. Something weird about his posture; I couldn’t figure it out.
Liz giggled, squirming in her seat. “Oh yes, alien master!”
The presentation continued.
Each victory brought the Xortaags closer to the Akakies and their allies. Tarq’s government believed the Xortaags would never dare attack the Akakies, but he decided to keep an eye on them. He also planned and executed two covert operations against the enemy: They wiped out the Xortaag population in a colony using a mutated virus, and they activated all the volcanos in another occupied planet simultaneously, killing off all the Xortaags.
I was disturbed by how easily this funny-looking little man in his white tuxedo and feathered cap talked about killing God knew how many people. “Wow! Genocide much?”
Tarq gave me the look of a high school teacher just about to send me to detention. “All adult Xortaags are soldiers, and there were no children in those colonies. Unlike the Xortaags, the Akaki Special Operation Force does not kill kids.”
“The Xortaags don’t have children?” asked Liz, a note of sadness in her voice.
“They do, but the first wave of colonists is responsible for preparing the infrastructure for the following waves. There are no kids in a new colony until the second wave arrives.”
When the inevitable confrontation came, Maada and his fleet beat the Akaki forces with ease. Despite Tarq’s protest, his government decided to ask the Xortaags to sign a peace treaty. Tarq believed the peace treaty would allow the Xortaags to enslave the rest of the galaxy without opposition, and once they felt they were strong enough, they’d attack his home planet, Kanoor. He initiated a major black op: Unknown to his government, he had a military base built under an invisible force field on the planet that was the Xortaags’ next target and stocked it with advanced equipment and weaponry. He was going to give this base to the planet’s inhabitants so that they had a shot at defending themselves.
The movie ended.
I caught Tarq ogling Liz. I frowned at him, and he quickly averted his eyes.
Tarq added, “In case you did not figure it out: The Xortaags’ next target is Earth, and we are on that base right now.”
I was bone-tired, dazed, and drugged, but my wisecracking abilities were intact. “It’s good you clarified it; otherwise, I might’ve thought you’ve saved us to help defend another planet in a galaxy far, far away against the Xortaags.”
Tarq smiled at me. “I was initially planning to hand the base over to the government of Earth, but after observing Earth for a few months, I changed my mind. I think Earth’s current leadership is too fractured, incompetent, and corrupt to be able to mount an effective defense against a far superior enemy.”
I interrupted him again. “Dude! If you provide Zheng with a spaceship, he’ll use it to run away and save his own skin, or worse, try to negotiate with the Xortaags and form an alliance against you.”
“On the other hand, the Resistance fits the profile of people with the resolve to defend their planet,” continued Tarq, trying to ignore me. “Therefore, I decided to turn the base over to Kurt and his people.”
“You cut it kinda close, didn’t you?” I asked. “We were this close”—I showed him my thumb and index finger, very close together—”to start pushing up daisies.”
Tarq gave me a bewildered look.
“To be executed,” Liz clarified.
“There is a good reason we waited until the last moment to save you,” said Tarq. “We wanted to do it live on TV with millions watching to achieve the maximum dramatic effect. After that, there will be no shortage of volunteers when we start to recruit people.”
Talk about information overload! I was dizzy. This was all way too unreal. Kurt, Liz, and Allen didn’t look too good either, sedated or not.
I noticed Tarq ogling Liz again. I thought about punching his lights out. Nope. Too tired.
“I think this is enough for today,” said Tarq, smoking his pipe. “If you have any urgent questions, you can ask them now. Then get some rest, and tomorrow I will give you a tour of the base and go over our defense strategy. Barook will show you to your quarters.”
“Did you save only the four of us? The prison was full of Resistance members,” asked Kurt.
“I realize that,” Tarq said. “But we did not know who was with the Resistance and who was a common criminal. There will be plenty of time to stage a jailbreak.”
“If you’re aliens, why do you look exactly like us?” Elizabeth asked, her head tilted, eyes narrowed.
Tarq and Barook exchanged a look. Tarq answered, “There are dozens of humanoid species in the galaxy, some of which, including the Xortaags, look exactly like humans, at least on the outside. Make no mistake though: You probably have only slightly more in common with them than with a chimpanzee.”
That explanation did not convince Elizabeth
. “But how’s it possible?”
“Nobody seems to know for certain,” said Tarq. “The most widely accepted theory indicates intelligent design.”
“Whose intelligence?” I asked skeptically.
“The theory holds that a few million years ago a now-extinct species scattered human DNA, as well as that of many other species, including for some reason sheep and wombats, all across the universe. As a result, there are several instances of similar species evolving on distant planets.”
“Do all your people look like Native Americans?” I asked, wondering what a wombat was.
Barook laughed. “You saw two of us and immediately assume we all look like this? Do you always stereotype so quickly?”
Tarq said, “No. We are as varied as you guys are. It just so happens that Barook and I are from the same background.”
Before leaving, I said, “I have to ask: With the fate of the universe in the balance, you still saw it fit to spend time and energy staging this?” I pointed at us and the whole this-is-what-heaven-looks-like charade.
Tarq beamed. “Of course! Was it not exquisite? “
I had to admit it kind of was.
“I have a question too,” said Kurt. “In your presentation, you mentioned several times that your species was significantly more advanced than the Xortaags. How come you couldn’t stop them on your own?”
Staring down at his hands, Tarq answered with a flat voice, “Because we are all pussies.”
Barook showed us to our quarters, which was a Spartan and purely functional room with bare walls and a few pieces of furniture—a sofa, dining table, a bed, all of them white. Apparently, the Akakies really liked this color. The bed was comfortable, especially after a couple of weeks of sleeping, or to be more accurate trying to sleep, in prison.
In the last few weeks, I’d been shot, gassed, jailed, sentenced to death, tortured, and saved by aliens—I still couldn’t wrap my mind around this one—but when I found myself alone with Liz in our quarters, I could only think about one thing. It’s funny how the brain works. Or at least, a man’s brain. Liz wanted to talk, so we that’s what we did almost all night, although I couldn’t stop touching her. We talked about everything that had happened in the past two weeks. I told her I’d decided not joining the Resistance was a mistake. I earned a kiss for that. She told me she’d survived “the nick” by constantly thinking about me.
