by JS Rowan
“The president of India is requesting to make a formal state visit on board the Space Dog. They have offered to make India the first official space port for our fleet.”
“That is wonderful! Wait! We can’t have a state visit, I have nothing to wear. I need to get my hair styled, my fingernails look like they’ve been through a war, which they have. What am I going to do?” thought Leona, gulping.
“Perhaps you could go shopping, and get all those things done.”
“Where, in which of those countries? Um, if we’re going to survive as a self-sufficient country, we’re going to have to get all these capabilities on board our vessels. In order to do that, we need money.”
“How do you plan on getting money?” Gupta had pricked his ears up, albeit in a hesitant fashion.
“We are going to have a garage sale!” thought Leona.
“I do not understand. What are you planning to sell?” thought Gupta.
“How much do you think the plans for a shuttle craft would sell for? Or the Med Bay design?”
“I think they would sell for a lot of money—even the small things, like the laser auto-cannons. In case the Supes come back to the planet, everyone will want one,” thought Gupta.
Leona shifted position in the Supe-shaped chair. Oh yes, that was another thing she would want for them, and pronto—human-shaped chairs!
“Did any news organizations contact us requesting interviews?”
“Yes, I believe they all did. As soon as the prime minister announced that he was in contact with us, the news organizations started trying to contact us through any means they could think of, but mainly through their offices in India.”
“Have we heard anything from Thor or Admiral?” thought Leona.
“No, we have not heard anything. However, several Supe ships have docked at Jupiter Station. We did not see any fighting preceding their docking. I do not know what is going on,” thought Gupta, his ears going back.
“It looks like we could have a tough decision to make. Should we stay here and help Earth prepare? Or should we head back and see if we can help the station?” thought Leona.
“I think the station should come first. Without it, Earth, even with our help, would not stand a chance.”
Leona turned to Hiroshi, who looked much better after a night of sleep. “How quickly can we offload the people who want to go home?” she asked him.
“If we unload them all to the same spot in an area that would be just below us, we could probably send the shuttles in rotation to move them all in six or eight hours,” answered Hiroshi.
“Mr. Gupta, please ask the Indian government for permission to unload all the people who are leaving the Space Dog. It’s going to be a big job to get them home.”
Twenty minutes later, Mukesh Gupta was finished talking with various Indian government officials. He gave himself a shake, from snout to tail, and then turned to Leona.
“I have set up a plan to return our passengers. We can take them down to Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, Terminal Two, in Mumbai. Some of them can be transported right away from there to their homes in India, and others will be taken to the nearby hotels until their paperwork for getting back to their nations without passports can be processed. So many of the people were taken by the werewolves without any identity documents at all, yet international travel requires proof of citizenship.” Gupta showed a small amount of fang. “Some officials have asked who is going to pay for all this.”
“Tell them that if they will give us temporary terms—at cost, no profit—then we will cover the cost of getting those people home. Very soon, we should have a lot of money.”
Gupta wagged his tail slowly in agreement.
“Mr. Gupta, would you mind staying behind and negotiating some trade deals with a variety of countries and industries? You can take one of the smaller shuttles, and someone from the group that has been training to fly it. Also, you can take a couple of werewolves with you as your guards in case of any hostilities,” thought Leona.
“I would be most pleased to do this. I will take some of the COBRA unit with me. Also, I would like to take two of the people who can communicate with me telepathically and speak English. As well, I think I should bring a thought-amplifier terminal with me, so I can speak directly with people over the telephone and for video calls.”
“Good idea.”
“I will also retain lawyers in all the different countries that we want to do business with, so that we can begin the process of marketing some of the technology we have.”
“That sounds good to me too.”
“And there is something else, Leona, which my commandos have been asking me. We will be taking advantage of our travels to buy some tea.”
Leona smiled, thinking about her own thirst for coffee. Gupta’s tail started wagging in agreement with the sentiment.
“I have one question before I start preparing to leave. What title would you like me to use when I communicate with all these people?”
“I think Mr. Ambassador has a good ring to it. We are going to need ambassadors, and you can be our first one,” said Leona.
“Ambassador Gupta! I do like the sound of that.”
Four days after the Jupiter Station team started scanning wolves, there were thousands of wolves on the station working on installing the missile batteries. With all the werewolves going back and forth to the ships in a red-furred stream, no one seemed to notice that there were a lot more wolves wandering around than the installation accounted for.
“The Space Dog has the left Earth orbit. They appear to be on their way here,” Thor thought to Admiral.
“That would explain the Masters asking for an immediate meeting with O’Neil,” thought Frosty.
“Don’t you mean, the ‘blood-sucking aliens’ asking for a meeting?” asked Thor, exposing his fangs.
“They do not suck blood as far as I recall,” thought Frosty.
“It’s a slang expression,” thought Thor. “The ‘dirty rotten blood-suckers that think they’re superior,’ you know?”
“Oh, ‘the infestation,’” said Admiral, grinning toothily.
Frosty snickered. Admiral gave him a look and then turned to the marine officer who was standing with them.
“O’Neil, are you ready for this meeting?” thought Admiral.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you sure the squadron werewolves are on our side?” said O’Neil.
“As sure as I can be,” thought Admiral.
Without saying anything more, O’Neil put on his thought-helmet. Then he and his entourage made their way the meeting room.
Admiral and Frosty followed at a distance, trying to be as inconspicuous as they could, which was difficult, considering that they were both twenty-foot-tall werewolves.
O’Neil walked into the room and noted that there were three Supes in the room instead of one, along with the squadron Alpha soon to be known as Mergnot, and ten honor guard wolves.
O’Neil sat down beside Ashley. He spoke briefly to her, and then she turned to the Supes and addressed them telepathically.
“The human commander wants to know about the progress of the installation.”
“The installation of the missile batteries is proceeding quite well. However, I regret to inform you that you will never be to able use them.”
“And why is that?” thought Ashley.
“Because, on my signal, our squadron werewolves will take over this space station. We have far more wolves than you have humans to defend the station.”
Ashley talked quickly with O’Neil and turned back to the Supes.
“So you’re breaking your agreement with us, then?” she thought to them.
“Yes, how observant of you.”
“We formally request that you declare, on the record, your intention to break this agreement and enter into hostilities with us.”
“I doubt that any of our courts would hear your plea, but very well.”
The Supe took
the contact recording device and, placing his hand upon it, made the declaration. After that, he looked at Ashley. The purple fronds atop his head swished in some kind of emotional display that humans could not interpret.
“Now, to the part of this that I’m really going to enjoy.”
The Supe signaled to his squadron Alpha wolf. The Alpha (in future to be known as Mergnot) took Ashley from her chair, and held her with her neck exposed. He then took one of his large claws and placed it like a dagger against her neck. Ashley squeezed her eyes shut and then reopened them.
O’Neil calmly started taking off his thought-helmet. Ignoring the razor-sharp claw at her throat, Ashley addressed the Supe.
“You should know: the human commander was wearing that helmet, not for his protection, but for yours.”
O’Neil turned to Mergnot and broadcast to the room. His augmented telepathic voice was very strong.
“WOLF! Release her now!”
The squadron Alpha let go of Ashley and stood still, pretending that he was dazed. It was a good simulation; from his thoughts the Alpha appeared to think of nothing so much as clouds and rain. The honor guard moved to take action against O’Neil.
O’Neil broadcast again in the loudest thought-voice he could muster.
“WOLVES, IT’S LULLABY TIME.”
The ten honor guard werewolves promptly started looking for a spot to curl up. They all lay down on the floor and went to sleep. One of the Supes got up from his chair and frantically started trying to wake up one of the werewolves.
O’Neil went to the comm system and telepathically broadcast to all three of the visiting ships and the whole of Jupiter Station, “WOLVES, IT’S LULLABY TIME.”
All over the three ships and the station the “treated” werewolves began curling up and going to sleep. The rest of the wolves took this as their cue, and readied for action.
The fear and confusion telepathically radiating from the Supes was intense. They could not understand how this human was controlling their wolves.
“I think you’ll find that on all your ships, the wolves are now holding members of your clan in potentially lethal positions,” broadcast O’Neil to the three Supes.
The trio of Supes went to the communication terminal and learned that werewolves on every ship had turned against their erstwhile Masters and were holding them with claws to throats.
“What do you want?” one of the Supes asked.
O’Neil pointed to the lead Supe with his arm outstretched. “I believe that under your laws, due to the breaking of the contract and the opening of hostilities, I have the right to kill him.”
O’Neil was pointing at the Supe that had led the negotiations. The two others in the group broadcast shock and horror—and a smarmy wish to separate their fates from that of the oath-breaker.
“Yes. Yes! That is our law,” replied the two.
“That only applies to our own people, not worthless slaves like you,” sneered the lead Supe.
O’Neil looked at the squadron Alpha and nodded. The supposedly dazed silver wolf walked over and, with a slicing motion of his claws, killed his tormentor instantly.
O’Neil then looked at the two remaining Supes. A wave of implacable coldness rolled off him, and they leaned back away from him in terror.
“We’re going to take two of your ships. From the third ship, we are going to take everything that could possibly be of value, including your weapons systems. Then, you and all your clan members will be placed onto that last ship. You will leave this system and tell all ships that would want to attack here that we can take your werewolves and command them, even though they may not be in line of sight. Your other choice, if you refuse, is for us to kill you all right now. What do you choose?”
“We choose to live.”
“Very well, tell your clan members to report to Deck Seven of the space station. They have two hours to be there. They are not to bring anything with them, other than the clothing that they wear. Anyone who does not comply or report to Deck Seven within the two-hour time frame will be hunted down and killed. Do you understand?”
One of the Supes went to the comm system console and broadcast the conditions of survival throughout the three ships. While O’Neil’s attention was focused on that Supe, the other one attempted to launch a lethal telepathic attack on him. However, the Alpha to be called Mergnot, and Ashley, were prepared for this. They reflected the attack back on the attacker and he died instantly.
The third Supe thought it was O’Neil who had casually swatted this attack away and killed his cousin. The Supe was nearly paralyzed with fear, and this broadcast out through the communication system to the other Supes. They did not know what could cause such fear in one of their leaders. None of them wanted to find out.
O’Neil looked at the last Supe and then he looked down at the two dead Supes.
“Which one of the dead was the squadron Master?” O’Neil thought to him.
The Supe pointed at the contemptuous alien that had been leading the negotiations—Mergnot’s tormentor.
“So then, congratulations on being the new clan Master.”
With that, O’Neil walked out of the room.
The first two Supe ships were taken under control of the Jupiter Fleet. The last Supe ship was stripped of anything valuable, including excess foodstuffs and cargo. Weapons and repair bots were at the top of the list.
The work teams also quickly found a host of mining bots, which the Supes had planned on using to take metals that they wanted from the moons of Jupiter. Admiral immediately set these bots to work on the moons, along with the shuttles required to set up and run the operation.
Ashley interviewed all the slaves on board the stripped ship. With all but a few exceptions, they decided to come onto the station. A small number of the slaves (especially a species that needed specialized food that the humans had no knowledge of) chose to remain on the ships, and no one was forced to leave against his, her, or its will.
Most of the slaves were not “expert” slaves, so they no longer had their memories or sense of initiative or self-direction. Despite them being rendered so helpless, the Supes had abused the slaves so badly that even the fright of joining a scary, unknown species like the humans was preferable to remaining on the stripped ship.
Ashley went away after those interviews to cry privately in her cabin. She emerged after a while with a freshly scrubbed face and reddened eyes. O’Neil and Thor did not ask her where she had been.
That was the time when the “Lullaby Time” command to the Supes’ honor guard and the “loyal” wolves on the three ships was reversed. When the werewolves awoke, covered by the barrels of weapons wielded by human and werewolf fighters wearing thought-helmets, their confusion was complete.
Swiftly, the converted Supe werewolves—who knew if they were criminals in Supe society—realized that they were vulnerable to the possibility of revenge at the fangs of the freed werewolves. Once made familiar with the situation, they all opted to join the Purple clan on board the stripped ship.
While that was going on, Admiral and Ashley were counting up the captured cargo and equipment.
“Ashley, please search the ship computers for a set of designs to build equipment that smelts the ore into usable metals,” Admiral requested.
Ashley set to work, and finally found some useful information on the subject.
“As it turns out, the station doesn’t have that kind of design info—but one of the Purple clan ships did. But there’s a problem, I guess,” thought Ashley.
“You guess?”
“Well, OK, I am pretty sure, just not one hundred percent sure. The problem is this; the design is there but not all the equipment to use it. We are going to have to get extra parts from somewhere.”
Ashley cleared her throat. She kept it close and private in her own brain, but she was still a little afraid of the giant werewolf.
“Extra parts? This is skilled work. Too bad the ‘infestation’ cannot be trusted to
build the apparatus without trying to sabotage it. We will probably need help from Earth.”
“How will we get that?”
“I’ll have to discuss this with Leona,” thought Admiral.
Although the Supes and converted Supe werewolves showed up at the designated deck by the two-hour time limit, it was clear that it would take longer to strip the third ship. Admiral and Frosty made sure that all the human and wolf fighters guarding the captives wore thought-helmets, in order to prevent intrusive and empathic attacks.
Finally the third ship was stripped of most useful materials, and even items such as the Supes’ personal effects. The Alpha wolf called Mergnot made a count of the werewolves and humans going on and off the third ship to ensure that no one could be forgotten on board when it left. Such an error would be a death sentence for anyone inadvertently left aboard the stripped ship.
Admiral made sure that the Supes could still operate the engines and food systems. Frosty ensured that the wolves loyal to Mergnot left the rach and aarach life support system undisturbed—if only for honor’s sake. Then the former squadron Alpha wolf loaded all the Supes on board the stripped ship and it departed the solar system. The only communication system still working on the ship was for local ship-to-ship communications.
As Ashley was watching the ship leave, she looked toward where the Space Dog should be. A tiny dot projected on the window of the communications center showed the vessel’s position in space. She was thinking about her time on the Space Dog and missing Leona. That wonderful woman had rescued her and taught her how to survive this new life. She had her hand on the ship’s main communications console as she ruminated.
Then she heard a voice say, “Ashley?”
It was Leona’s voice. Ashley looked around and saw nothing. Then she realized that it was a thought-voice.
“Leona?”
“Where are you?” thought a very confused-sounding Leona.
“I’m in the communications center of the Jupiter Station. Where are you?”
“I am in the Command Deck of the Space Dog. I was recording a message for Thor when I heard you calling for me.”
“This is weird. How are we communicating telepathically over this distance—in real time?” Ashley thought.
