“This alien claims to have landed here due to equipment malfunction. Says he was aiming for our spaceport.”
The older man’s eyebrow shot up. “What the devil’s a spaceport?”
“My point also, Driver Narthor. The man’s clearly lying.” Gantry chuckled softly. “He also claims that the asteroids in the night sky are really Friendlarian villages constructed of metal.” Gantry then laughed heartily.
“They’re what? Why would our friends, the Friendlarians, have dozens of secret metal villages orbiting Zark? That makes no sense.”
“Maybe they’re planning a big birthday surprise for Overlord Zalt,” said one of the original guards with a chuckle of his own.
Gantry was instantly incensed. “This is not the Enlisted Men’s Club, Joyover. Hold your tongue and remember your station.”
“Sorry, sir. Sorry,” the guard said, lowering his head.
“So, he drove past a bunch of non-existent space villages while heading for our non-existent spaceport, and just chanced to land so close to Overlord’s mansion I do believe he scratched the paint? How likely am I to believe that scenario?”
“You’re neither to believe or disbelieve it, Driver,” said a large man as he walked quickly into the room.
Everyone but me snapped to a rigid attention. Dude must be the big boss.
“Your job is to present me with the facts. I will do the thinking.”
“Yes, to be certain, Overlord. My thoughts exactly.”
Zalt walked right up to me and stuck his face inches from mine. “There you go thinking again, Bentrainor. A most risky habit for a living officer in my service.”
“My apologies. Overlord. I will never think again. I mean, I will never do that again. Say that—”
“Silence,” snapped Zalt. “You’re far too boring a distraction, unlike any of your wives, I might add.”
Bentrainor shuffled his feet nervously. I had the feeling he wished he could become invisible right about then. This Zalt was brutal.
“And you. Are you going to bore me too?” he said, still right in my face.
“I’m not having sex with you, if that’s the only thing that works,” I replied loudly. Hey, if you’re going to be blown away, might as well make sure everyone heard you well enough.
Everyone stiffened audibly, and several rifle barrels were slammed against my head.
Then Zalt broke the tension by belly-laughing. He went on for a good thirty seconds. Gosh I was funny.
“I will not hold you to that standard, my alien friend.”
“As we’re friends and all, I’m Jon Ryan. I’d shake your hand, but I’m tied up now.” I twisted to try and show him my restraints.
“Funny again. I can see we’re going to get along marvelously, assuming of course I don’t kill you first.”
“I’ll cross my fingers then.”
“Guard,” Zalt gestured to the nearest man, “please release my new friend. He’ll be joining me in my office for punjé.”
Bentrainor stepped forward. “Are you certain that’s wise, Overlord?”
“No. I am certain, however, it is not your place to question my orders, either. I’ll overlook your error if you’d be so kind as to overlook mine.”
“Sir,” he replied too loudly.
“Jon,” Zalt pointed his arm toward the exit, “if you’ll join me for punjé, it would be my honor to hear this fanciful tale of predators in space.”
Someone giggled softly.
“Driver Narthor,” Zalt called over his shoulder.
“Sir?”
“Have that person executed, if you would be so kind.”
“S…sir,” he responded as we left the room.
Zalt’s office was only a few doors down the hall. It was as spacious and lavishly decorated as I’d assumed it would be, given his flippant and iron-fisted style. He pointed to a chair, indicating I should sit there.
“So, Jon, please do tell me of your curious reports. Friendlarians orbiting my planet, not the asteroids they assure me we’re observing? Ah, how do you take your punjé?”
No idea. I’d like to cram it up this jerk’s ass, but I imagined that was off-limits. “Same as you, Zalt.”
Even my jocular new BFF stiffened at my familiarity.
“The only person allowed to address me like that is my father. He is dead. Would you like to ask him yourself if such is not the case?”
“No,” I patted my hands in a downward direction. “I’ll take your word on that, Overlord.”
“Better. Now…”
Before he could continue, the door of his office flew open so forcefully it slammed against the wall it was attached to. A huge Berrillian male, moving with military grace, strode in without asking permission.
“Ah, Jerquod. Good of you to come on such short notice,” said Zalt.
“And what lies has this dog told you?”
“Me, personally? None so far. I was just about to share tall tales and punjé, hoping to hear some good ones. Ah, will you take punjé also?”
“No, Overlord. You know we cannot stand that vial concoction.”
“I can hope that someday you’ll come to your senses, can’t I?”
“You can do as you please.”
Zalt furrowed his brow. “I’m not certain I like your tone, friendly Friendlarian Jerquod.”
“Beg pardon, Overlord,” said Jerquod very unconvincingly.
“I’ll have my servant bring you a glass of warm blood. Please sit,” said the overlord.
Jerquod rested uncomfortably into a chair designed for Zark quadrupeds. The look on his face was pure malice. This I knew from lengthy experience. Jerquod looked like he was being asked to sit on someone else’s turd.
“So, potential friend Jon, regale me with your story, epic as I hope it is,” invited Zalt.
“Me? I’m just an explorer. I was sent by my, err, people, to catalogue and map this region of the galaxy.”
I saw no point in lying or being deceitful. Whatever was going on between these two species was likely not of remarkable significance. I could leave and never return, and the Alliance would be just as strong.
“That sounds dull for a man of action such as yourself,” responded Zalt.
“When the boss says jump, I only ask how high. Not mine to question an assignment.”
“Hmm. I wish I had more like you. My executioner would be less busy, but it would be refreshing to be served more effectively,” said Zalt.
“I say he lies. He’s here to gather intelligence for an invasion,” thundered Jerquod.
“On what do you base that opinion?” asked Zalt. “The man looks harmless enough to me, and his story is credible.”
“He is not harmless. I see a thousand slain victims in his eyes. As to his story, I still say he lies.”
“Hey, a … Jerquod, would you like out settle this outside like gentlebeasts?” I asked as sarcastically as I could.
“I would rip you in half in two seconds,” howled the Berrillian.
“Then we won’t inconvenience Overlord here that long, will we?”
Zalt chuckled. That brought Jerquod to his hind feet, roaring.
“I will be out front, though I know a coward like you will never stand behind his words.” With that, Jerquod stormed out of the room.
I turned to Zalt. “I thought he’d never leave. What a party killer.”
“You are very bold and humorous, Jon Ryan. But that creature is quite serious. I should not like to be in your pants.”
Hopefully that was local slang for in your shoes. Otherwise, I was kind of grossed out.
“Will it offend you if I kill the jerk?” I asked bluntly.
“Offend me? No. It will amaze me, thrill me, and spare me his ill temper in the future.”
“Then let’s do this,” I said standing.
By the time we reached the main door, Zalt was surrounded by keen-eyed guards, rifles sweeping broadly. I stepped out into the clear, Jerquod hit me from the side like a runa
way freight train. So much for the Marquess of Queensberry rules.
As we rolled, I slapped my forearm on his lower jaw, preventing him from seizing my head in his teeth. It was close. He wrapped he in his powerful arms and pulled me close, his claws digging into my back.
Perfect. My left hand was pinned against him, invisible to anyone. I attached a fiber to his belly and said in my head: sleep. He went out like a light bulb. I grabbed his pelt and didn’t allow him to fall away.
I rolled over with him a few times, stopped when I was on top, then head-butted him twice. I released my hold, and he flopped back limply to the ground. The crowd that had gathered rapidly was stunned silent for several seconds. Zalt began to clap. Then cheers rose from the onlookers. I guess they were all happy to see one of these cats laid out.
I patted myself clean as I walked back over to Zalt.
“Impressive indeed. Is he dead?”
“No, but his head’ll hurt as much as his pride when he finally wakes up.”
Zalt chuckled at that. He put an arm around me and directed me back inside.
In his office, I was handed a tiny cup of a warm green fluid. Must have been the punjé he mentioned earlier. I didn’t have to move the refreshment closer to my nose to determine it stank to high heaven. It smelled like liquid calrf, only maybe more pungent. To be social, I took a sip. I was glad I didn’t have a vomit-response any longer. Otherwise, I’d have hurled for sure. Punjé made manure tea appealing by way of comparison. I set my cup down and slide it as far away as I could.
“Not a fan?” asked Zalt with a wicked smile.
“No, and never going to be. How can you drink that?”
“Practice, practice, practice,” he replied.
“By why practice? Outlaw the poison and be done with it.”
“Don’t be a cultural boor. It’s a right of passage on Zark to enjoy punjé.”
“Enjoy?”
“Well, drink without spitting it out.” He set his cup down. “So, tell me. What's a mapmaker who can knock a Friendlarian out in less than a minute doing in my realm?”
“Just a survey mission. I wasn’t planning on even landing until I saw the broadcast of Berrillians playing teslopp.”
“Why? Are you a fan?”
“Hardly. No, I know the Berrillians all too well. Where they are, they’re up to no good. I had to see what perverse thing they were doing.”
“So, you come from the stars, like they do?”
“Yes. I come from very far away.” I thought for a moment. “To see my home star from here, you’d need a very powerful telescope.”
“Fascinating. And you maintain these Berrillians who attempt to pass themselves off as Friendlarians are a threat to my people?”
“If they’re here, your people are probably already dead.”
That wiped what was left of a smile off his face. “That is a serious and sobering claim. Can you back it up?”
“I most certainly can. The problem is, once the Berrillians know you’re on to them, they’ll begin their open aggression. When they do, you’ll wish that hell had risen to the surface instead.”
“Is there anything we can do? Can we attack them first, by surprise?”
“Probably not. I imagine they’re listening to us as we speak. They have several large ships in orbit that are probably full of warriors just itching to kill something.”
Zalt lowered his head. “I suspected their visit to our world was going to end poorly. A wolf in sheep’s clothing acts little like a sheep. I feared we were approaching a crisis.”
I grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote the words: If I get out of here quickly enough, I can destroy all their spacecraft. They will only send more, and all the Berrillians on the ground will rise to attack, but it might buy you some time.
Zalt nodded weakly. “Driver,” he yelled to the hallway. “See this man back to his ship at once.”
An officer ran in, looked a little confused, then waved me out.
I took Wrath up to orbit. By the time I got there, the Berrillian ships were already scrambling. Fighters were being launched by the thousands, and what had to be troop ships were beginning their descent. The day, which promised to be so dull, turned out to be all right. I used the quantum decoupler to destroy each and every Berrillian vessel in less than thirty seconds. I doubt they even got a signal off to their home base before they were vaporized.
Whatever was occurring on the ground would be another story. I called back to Exeter, appraising them of the situation and asking for backup, but I was completely unsure if they would send help. The Alliance had a lot on its plate. Engaging Berrillians in hand-to-hand combat on a previously unknown world was a lot to ask.
Wrath landed right next to Zalt’s palace, where I’d been a few minutes before. The scene was utter chaos. Alarms were sounding, men and machines scrambled every which way, and a few Berrillians were out in the open, firing their plasma rifles. I quickly sliced up those when I could get a clean shot, but I knew it was a drop in the bucket. I imagined there were a lot of Berrillians in hiding who would be nearly impossible to defeat.
I grabbed a couple rail rifles and ran to Zalt’s office. He was on a communicator with several people at once. Piecing together what I could hear, it was clear all hell was breaking loose across the planet. The fate of the locals was completely in their own hands. I could only pray their efforts would be enough.
I heard shots fired down the hallway, along with screams and roars. Berrillians were forcing back whatever guards were resisting. The action approached my position rapidly, suggesting the big cats were characteristically winning. I opened the metal door to the hall and crouched behind it for cover. Almost immediately, two Zark guards flew around the corner in full retreat. Both were dropped with plasma bolts to their backs before they’d covered much ground.
A Berrillian officer peeked his head around the corner. I blew a large chunk of it off. He was dragged backward and disappeared. Three cats jumped into view, rolling and firing. I hit two of them immediately, but the third vaulted into an open door halfway down the hall in my direction. That almost certainly put him on the other side of the wall of Zalt’s office. Knowing their aggression, I knew he’d burst right through, hoping to take me by surprise.
I heard a muffled roar coming from that room. Probably a signal to his team to attack. I cut a laser line across the entire length of the far wall, right about thigh-high for a Berrillian. There was a loud thud against the wall and cries of anguish, but he didn’t break though. That allowed me to cover the hallway. Sure enough, five cats were sprinting toward me.
One—two—three—four—five. I had to blast the last one point blank, they moved so quickly. I looked down to find a hole in my left leg. Crap. One of them got off a clean shot. Luckily, my leg worked fine. Kayla and Toño were both going to kill me separately for the risk I was taking. There was no denying a hole in my leg.
There seemed to be a lull in the battle. I couldn’t hear anyone in either direction down the hall. Zalt was just getting off the com-link.
“Are there more coming?” he asked with surprising coolness.
“Not now. There will be soon.” I turned to him. “Look, I can get you to safety if you want. I doubt there’s much more I can do.”
“No. Our code is as clear as it is rigid. I will stay and direct the defense. But thank you. Truly, Jon. I don’t know if we’ll survive, but if we do, it will be because of you.” He hugged me.
“Are you sure, Over…”
“Please, call me Zalt. All my friends do.”
“I thought you said only your dead father did?”
“Yes. He was my only friend. Now I have another. Go in safety, my friend.”
“I’ll hang around in orbit a while. If more Berrillian ships show, I can destroy them.”
“Ah. Now you get two universities named after you. Please leave before I lose count.”
A squad of guards arrived and spirited Zalt away. Once I was certain my path
was clear, I ran to Wrath and popped into a high orbit.
Yeah, not the day I’d expected. Not by a long shot.
FOURTEEN
“Of all the stupid, unauthorized, ill-advised stunts you’ve ever pulled, this has got to be the blue-ribbon winner of all time.”
If it had been Toño yelling those words at me, I’d have known I had them coming. But that was just Kayla, as she picked at the wound on my leg. Toño’s dressing-down was yet to come. Then I’d face Faiza Hijab, Alexis Gore, and probably the night janitor, because heck, who didn’t want a piece of me?
“They send you on a survey, more a census count, and intragalactic war ensues. What did the Zark ever do to you, to deserve you?”
“Honey,” I whined, “the Berrillians were setting them up. I simply brought about the inevitable conflict sooner, and I gave the Zark a much better chance in the process.”
“And you’re so damn sure there wasn’t a real bond between those two races? Hmm? Maybe they were feeling each other out and would have coexisted peacefully. But no, the mighty Jon Ryan had to rescue them by precipitating a holy war.”
I’m guessing Kayla was mad. I didn’t think she was just pretending to be to solidify her point. Nope, I was in deep doo-doo. It felt like a familiar place to be.
“If you had been killed, I’d have killed you. You know that, right?”
“I was counting on it. That kept me sharp. Who wants to die twice?”
“Ah, humor. Sure. Maybe if I chuckle like a chicken who has had a stroke, I’ll forgive you? Makes sense.”
“Is it working? I don’t hear any cackling.”
She pointed at me with the scissors she used to cut my pant leg open. “Do you know where I’m thinking of setting these down? Here’s a series of hints. Sun don’t shine there often, yours are bigger than they should be, and you’d really miss them if they were gone.”
“Perhaps an apology is in order?” I smiled encouragingly.
“No. We’re well past the apology stage here. I’m going to require a religious conversion from you and a sign from God to forgive you.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Kayla raised the scissors high above her head and shot a furtive glance at my crotch.
The Forever Peace Page 10
