The Gemini Agent

by Rick Barba

  “Still like the fog, Braxxy?” asked Kirk, wiping his eyes.

  Braxim smiled wryly. “It does seem unfriendly now,” he admitted.

  Kirk pointed to an old-fashioned neon sign, PAK’S GROCERY, glimmering on the corner just ahead. “Your turn,” he said. “I’ll scout ahead a bit.”

  As Braxim ducked into the store to search for Gaila, Kirk moved along the street looking for alleys.

  Suddenly, he heard Gaila. She was singing.

  “Gaila!” he called out. “Yo, girl!”

  Kirk followed the sound to the entrance of an alley running behind some classic row houses. Abruptly, the singing stopped … replaced by a hissing metallic voice. Now Kirk heard Gaila gasping. He ran up the alley until he could see a vague outline of Gaila with another murky figure, dark in the pale fog, wrapped like a black cloak around her. He hesitated for a brief moment, wondering if he was interrupting something. Was Gaila gasping or choking?

  Kirk decided she was probably not enjoying the encounter. She sounded like she was convulsing. If he was wrong, he’d deal with it. He had to make sure Gaila wasn’t in trouble.

  “Hey!” shouted Kirk. “Hey, you!”

  As Kirk shouted, the figure that had been all over Gaila reared up—huge now, maybe seven feet tall. The hissing morphed into a familiar sound, but Kirk couldn’t place it. Kirk shouted again, using his “command voice” (learned in Fleet Command and Control Methods) but the dark entity did not move.

  Then Gaila groaned in agony. Now Kirk was pissed.

  He dropped low, lunged, then sidestepped and unleashed a jab kick. He was sure he had a clean, easy shot at the attacker, but his foot struck nothing but air. Suddenly he was locked in a vise grip. The guy was incredibly strong. Kirk couldn’t move his arms. Then it got worse—fast. He felt a sticky sheet being pulled over his head. The sheet tightened across his face. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t breathe.

  Then Braxim burst through the fog.

  “I called the police!” he shouted at the attacker, holding up his open hand-held communicator. “I called 911!”

  Suddenly the sheet peeled off of Kirk’s face. He fell to the ground, gasping for air, and looked up to see the fog rolling toward Braxim’s feet.

  In an impossibly deep voice, the entity spoke a phrase in a language that Kirk did not recognize. He seemed to be speaking to Braxim.

  Then the attacker completely melted away into the thick fog.