The Godfather sighed. Well, he could not avoid it. Plus, he had been told that he was being held up as a shining example of how a community could survive under the heal of the Squids and do so without sacrificing fellow humans as meals for the Tschaaa. Thus, he thought he might just get through this day unscared, and without anyone the wiser about his new side job with the Yakuza. Unfortunately, an unannounced fourth member of the group threw him for a loop.
Darryl Largo had not expected to meet a Tschaaa Breeder. He and his people froze as the Squid used its cartilage supported limbs to walk almost crablike into the meeting. A security detail of the now legendary Banshees provided a protective ring around the alien, should someone not be able to control their anger. He saw the metal of all the humans, could tell they were tough customers. Darryl tried not to stare at the Breeder as the introductions were completed.
“And, Mr. Largo, the Tschaaa Breeder is known to us as Dorothy, her chosen human name. She is to be a pilot with the Banshees, flying a modified harvester Ark when it is ready. Part of the Great Compromise.”
Well, Darryl thought, I dealt with murderers, I guess can deal with beings that used to eat my people.
“Pleased to meet you all,” Darry said. “Jim here has been my most recent contact with the Tschaaa, although they have kept to themselves the last few months. He can take whoever you wish to the Seattle Aquarium area to meet the Breeders there.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” General Bender replied. “By the way, the President wants me to pass on her warmest regards for the job you did here. You helped save thousands from unfortunate circumstances and developed a working relationship with our new allies during a time of strife.”
Darryl knew what Bender really wanted to say was he did not have to kill any Squids nor feed any humans to them. The Godfather shrugged before answering.
“I just did what I had to, giving the situation.”
“Well, you did an excellent job, and are an example going forward,” replied Torbin Bender. “Dorothy, shall you go with Jim here?”
“Yes, of course.” The translator gave the Tschaaa female a bit of a Midwestern accent. Wonders of technology thought Darryl.
The group split up a bit, with the two Heroes of Key West mingling with the crowd of well-wishers on the street outside. Everyone wanted to meet and greet the two men who came so close to killing the Tschaaa Lord responsible for millions of humans being turned into meat by an alien species. Jim went with Dorothy and the Banshees to connect with the Creche.
“I’d like to see your adult sex shop,” Paul Miller had said. “The President is wanting to ensure the First Amendment we enjoyed before the Infestation is alive and kicking.”
As the two men walked down towards First Avenue, Darryl felt out the Commissioner’s general attitude. “So what do you think, Commissioner? Big Government presence in things to do with sex and adult entertainment, enjoyment?”
“You can call me Paul, as I think we’ll be talking a bunch in the future. The formerly used name was Biggs, yes?”
“I knew you’d check on me,” replied the Godfather. “So, any outstanding warrants?”
The Commissioner laughed.
“If there were, they’d be void. Madam President said that any people short of a serial killer, war criminals, sex offenders, and the such get a pass ‘Go’, get to start over again.”
“Krakens also?” Darryl asked.
“Case by case basis. Like the Nazis, some were ‘party members’ in name to survive. She wants the country, the world to heal. No more fighting the War Between the States a hundred years later over grudges. However, no more recreating the Mafia, whether you want to or not.”
The two men arrived at Vile Smut. A Japanese clerk named Goro, supplied by his hidden partners, was manning the store. A lot of the sex toy merchandise was new, the result of 3D printer technology. Newer DVDs found in warehouses had been added to the stock along with brand new ones made recently. Sex was still a very sellable commodity in all its forms. Paul Miller looked the stock over then went to a rack of hentai. He picked up a ‘live action’ recording of tentacle sex involving a Tschaaa and a human.
“Why did I know you would take a look at that kind of DVD?” said Darryl.
“Because, Godfather as they call you, this is a very problematic activity no one foresaw. Who would have imagined intelligent alien octopi would show up and we would have to share the planet with them?”
“So, the President has a problem with it?” Asked Darryl.
“Sandra Paul does not care what two consenting adults do. And since the Tschaaa involves are sentient, consenting adults, as perverse as it seems, she will not interfere. However, she is not the problem.”
“Who is?” Darryl asked.
“The Tschaaa Lords and Breeders,” the Commissioner answered.
“Why? Why would that matter…wait a minute. They think we’re nasty monkeys because we pork each other all the time as well as kill each other. So they think we are debasing them as a supposed superior species? “
Paul Miller smiled at Darryl.
“They had that come to Jesus moment with Andrew our cyborg friend and that unique mystical Breeder named Cassandra. They realized since coming to Earth for a new meat source, they were no longer the Tschaaa of old. Like killing each other, massacring the young of others for no reason, they knew a dark side was coming out. So, of course, they blamed coming in contact with us.”
“This is ridiculous,” Darryl interjected. “They came here to eat us. They kept us cattle, ate our infants as veal. Now they say we are corrupting and defiling their pristine culture. Give me a fucking break.”
Darryl could not believe he was having this conversation. Who cared what a bunch of Squids who killed and ate millions of humans thought?
“Well, Darryl, as part of the Great Compromise so we would not go down the path of mutually assured destruction, humanity agreed to listen to Tschaaa concerns. We are going to have teams of Squids and Human Police working together very soon.”
“So I’m going to have to start pulling stuff off the shelves?”
“Not yet, Darryl,” replied the Commissioner. “Just be circumspect about selling it to Tschaaa.”
The Godfather stood silent. He wondered what Paul Miller would say if he knew that Squids were already coming in, sans translators, a passing a note with a code on it to get the product.
“While I’m here,” continued the Commissioner, “some wiseasses have developed a Squid version of meth, crack, and smack. I would appreciate it, with your previous experience in the human underworld, if you would pass on any information on these substances. They are beginning to play havoc in Creche culture. That havoc could destroy the Great Compromise in its infancy.”
“What about Andrew and his new Guardian Angels? I thought, Paul, they were going to be this huge peacekeeper force?”
“They will try to keep us out of a Tschaaa/Human War, help with massive disasters, but they do not want to be our Caretakers. They will be a symbol of good, but won’t be this force of superheroes who will appear at the drop of a hat.”
“So I’ll see cops walking the beat again?” asked Darryl.
“Glad you brought that up. Mister Largo, as the Godfather of Downtown Seattle, I see you already have a security force that keeps order. Until things are better organized in the expanded U.S.A. I would appreciate you maintaining order. Use force within reason. We are working at setting up a new court system.”
Darryl laughed.
“I was rousted by beat cops in my younger years. Now I’m supposed to supervise them.”
“Your President and country would be most appreciative,” said Paul Miller. “Now, I think I need to get back with the others.” He shook Darryl’s hand. “I’ll keep in touch.”
“I figured you would,” responded the Godfather.
After Paul Miller left. Darryl nodded at Gor. The clerk dialed on his cell phone, spoke a few phrases in Japanese, then disconnected
the call. His nod told Darryl that Akira had been notified and would be in touch, soon. Business in both the porn and the new drugs was brisk. The Godfather did not care if it hurt the Squids. Fuck those human killers. He’d just as soon see them rot in hell.
Things went well with the meetings and immediately after. The Creche at the Aquarium was brought on board officially, and the Tschaaa were soon seen moving smoothly up and down Puget Sound. Of course, that made it easier for Darryl to conduct his business. With the population suddenly increasing to six thousand souls, the Godfather had more customers as well as citizens for whom to provide the necessities.
“We will keep things as they are for as long as possible,” Akira had said during a recent visit. “When raids begin…”
“I don’t think we need to worry anytime soon,” answered Darryl. “The Federal Government is way too busy dealing with more serious matters.”
Darryl would soon find he spoke too soon.
The Raid happened early one morning a month after the visit by the Commissioner. Darryl had converted the back of the shop into a lovely bachelor apartment, king-sized bed and all. So when the front door was smashed in before sunrise, Darryl was up with the original Over/Under 12 gauge he had from Day One as well as his .45 automatic. The former Mafia soldier came out yelling ready to kill. The shock was when he saw the perpetrators were all Tschaaa Breeders and young.
“What the hell are you doing?” The Godfather yelled out. One female Squid with a translator yelled back.
“You are corrupting our young!”
“You ate my kids!” Darryl yelled back.
It must have been something Paul Miller had said about getting along that kept him from blasting the Tschaaa. Jim and the Security Team made it there in record time after the shop alarm went off. A brawl ensued that trashed the shop but no shots were fired. The humans soon found out how strong even a young Squid was with their tentacle and arms.
The Tschaaa left after apparently making their point. The rest of the day was spent cleaning up and replacing damaged stock. Akira stopped by to survey the damage.
“So, my friend Darryl. What now?” The Yakuza asked.
“We clean up move on,” replied Darryl. “Won’t be the first time a place of mine was trashed. Usually, it’s the Vice Squad making a point. Or a competitor trying to shut me down.”
Darryl added to a pile of DVD that may be salvageable.
I’ll need some replacement stock, Akira.”
“Of course, my friend.” Akira looked around at the damage, the Squid Tracks on the floor.
“Darryl, do you wish for me to bring someone else in for a while, to—"
“Fade the heat?” Interjected Darryl. “Hell, no. This is me, my life. Fuck those Squids.”
He took a slug of Downtown Heat, his name for the moonshine they used for fuel and for a drink.
“I’m the Godfather of Downtown Seattle. And don’t anyone forget it! Now, someone hand me that mop—and get me another wife!”
The Vile Smut neon sign flickered. Then the light brightened, a beacon for the future of Seattle.
The Great Compromise, in all its ramifications for both the Tschaaa and humanity, continued. Only time would tell the outcome.
SEE YOU IN THE FUNNY PAPERS
BISMARCK, NORTH DAKOTA
“Where are the dailies on that new issue?”
Maxwell Marks was shoving pages and prints about as he impatiently searched for the new art he wanted to review. The barely twenty-one-year-old slender dark haired male was not noted for having a lot of patience. Then again, his drive had created a million dollar publishing comic and graphic novel company in the midst of a near genocidal war, in which Homo sapiens were kept alive as likely meat sources for cephalopodan aliens.
“Here they are,” Maxwell said as he pulled several long sheets of art paper from under a couple of books.
Maxwell looked over the proposed colorful artwork as his senior Vice President Tadashi Nakajima, a Japanese American known as Tad to all his North Dakotan friends, walked in with more artwork. He completed a lot of the artwork these days, as Maxwell was more and more involved in the business and decision making part of the company known as Squidkiller Comics and Publication. The average sized Asian had kidded Maxwell when they first met in High School in Minot, North Dakota the gaijin had befriended him so he had a model for all the manga and anime Asian characters he drew. It took Maxwell many hours of art to master the epicanthic fold of the Asianic eye.
“Whaddya think?” asked Tad. Maxwell examined the colored pages, then answered.
“Aleks needs a bit more decolletage.”
“ That’s the new General’s wife, you know,” said Tad. “Don’t you want to tone it down a bit now that everyone is working on this Great Compromise with the Squids?”
“And that has what to do with former spy Aleksandra Smirnov’s nice tatas?” Maxwell replied. “Yes, she is married to Squidkiller, now General Torbin Bender. But since we started this line over a year ago, it has been the flagship of this company. Hence our name.”
Tad frowned, then picked up another draft page of what was a graphic novel more than a comic book.
“Well, you even have our Avenging Angel Abigail with her boobs about to burst out of her body armor in the last issue. She was married to Ichiro Yamamoto just a few months ago. I do not want to piss off that Samurai.”
Maxwell laughed. “You think he would do any more damage to us than his wife? That last issue we did from those leaked reports of what she did to those Krakens and grays in Wyoming showed both blood and boobs to a new level. So far, it's selling like hotcakes.”
Tad kept frowning as he looked at the strips of art.
I don’t know,” the Japanese American said. “We are both military brats, so I keep thinking about what if our Active Duty moms had been drawn and depicted like…this.”
Maxwell guffawed.
“My mom has a nice chest. I think she would like to show them off.”
“Oh come on!” responded Tad, “You’re not serious…”
The intercom buzzed and Miriam, the receptionist, and gatekeeper, spoke.
“There is a nice young Japanese lady out here asking for the owner,” Miriam said. “She looks like she just came from cosplay. Is anyone expecting a model?”
Both of the men looked at the other.
“Expecting a long-lost relative. Tad?” asked Maxwell. His friend glared at him, then marched to the front of the of the office complex. Thanks to a substantial jump in sales, Squidkiller now occupied the entire two stories of the building. One large room was being outfitted for podcasts and filming of teasers for the company’s projects.
Maxwell looked at all the storyboards. He would have to consider some modifications to the storylines if the Tschaaa aliens, known as Squids, were no longer being killed. Or, not harvesting humans for meat. The President and CEO—why stop at just one title—of Squidkiller Comics and Publications had heard some people on the west coast were producing Japanese hentai, pornographic comics, and DVDs of human/alien sex. Tentacle sex, to be exact. Not just animated, but with live performers. Maxwell had a fluid sense of morality, but even he had limits.
Maxwell jumped as Miriam’s screech echoed through the offices. He had recently hired two body builder types to act as security after Maxwell and Tad had received some intoxicated visitors looking to score some free comics for resale. Now it sounded like they may earn their pay. Maxwell walked to his office door and peeked out. He looked just as one of the “security” personnel came flying into the hallway, bounced off the wall, then rolled to land near Maxwell’s feet. The President and CEO let out a little girl scream, jumped back into his office and slammed the door. He bolted it, then scrambled for his desk telephone. Shaking fingers hit “9-1-1.”
“Hello,” Maxwell said, then realized the line was dead. His own cell phone had just died the other day, and he had no chance to buy a replacement. Loud yelling and smashing sounds reverberated thro
ugh the office wall. Now he realized he should have bought a gun.
Maxwell looked around the room for a weapon. Then he saw the decorative katana someone had given him to dress up the office a bit. He grabbed it.
“Better than nothing,” he said to himself.
There were more cries, crashing. Maxwell heard Tad’s voice loudly complain. “I told you, I don’t speak Japanese! I’m an American!”
This was followed by a loud and commanding voice spouting Japanese. Was that a female voice?
“Fool! You should know the language of your ancestors!” This was the same voice, now speaking English.
“Open the door, fool!”
“I can’t,” replied Tad. “He has the door bolted.”
“Open the door!” the woman yelled.
“Go away! The cops are coming!” Maxwell yelled back.
“I have faced Krakens, Eaters, Beasts, and Tschaaa, and you think I fear the police?”
“You’d better, sister. We have laws here in Bismarck, new U.S. Capitol…”
A long and sharp blade sliced through the door. In a blur, two more cuts were made. A foot kicked a large hole in the door. A hand reached through and undid the deadbolt. The door was then kicked open as Maxwell screamed and ran behind his desk. He watched as a young Japanese woman of average build walk in. Maxwell saw and felt she exuded an aura of power and authority. On his knees behind her was Tad, shaking with fear.
“Stay back!” Maxwell tried to yell out, but his voice cracked. He attempted to hold the decorative katana menacingly. The Japanese female looked at him and laughed.
“Are you really threatening me with that fake sword? It has no edge on it.” The young woman's voice was from one who was used to command.
Maxwell looked at her, looked at his sword. Then he dropped his weapon.
Free Range Protocol- Tales of the Tschaaa Infestation Page 30
