by Gini Koch
“Until now.”
He nodded. “Until now.”
“There are others on their way here, too, did you know that?”
“Yes. They flee what we flee.”
Always nice to be right. I’d share that with Buchanan whenever he finally returned. “Just what are you fleeing?”
“The Aicirtap.”
Spun toward Reader and motioned for Muddy to come closer, which he did. Tim did as well, so we were in a small huddle. “You hear any of that?”
Reader now looked grim, so his answer wasn’t a surprise. “All of it, girlfriend, I know when to eavesdrop. The question is—do we believe what we’ve been told?”
“Six ships headed this way give some credence.”
“What do the Aicirtap look like and where are they from?” Reader asked Muddy.
Muddy sort of scrunched up his face, so I assumed he was trying to come up with a description we’d understand. “I believe you would see them as large beetles. They are about his size.” He pointed to Kyle. Which was not good, because Kyle was a big guy. “Only broader.”
“Fantastic. It really is Starship Troopers. And they’re from?”
“The system you call Tau Ceti.”
“So in our ‘neighborhood’ but not as close as your system or Alpha Centauri.”
Muddy nodded. “They have spaceflight, but not as we do. More as the others do.”
“You fly through space just the way you landed here, wrapped up in your own shells?”
Muddy beamed. “It has been said that you have understanding beyond others. Yes, our shells encircle us and allow us to hibernate while traveling through space.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, but keep it up, I love it.” Considered what he had and hadn’t said when we’d been under the conference table together. “So, here’s a question. My first thought was that these Aicirtap were from your planet or system, based on how you talked about the other sentient life there. But you say they’re from Tau Ceti, not Sirius. So . . . who on Tur and in the rest of the Sirius system are you Turleens not fond of?”
Muddy looked surprised by this question. “We do not dislike the other races on our planet or in our system. However, we do not agree with them, either.”
“Agree with them about what?”
“About uplift. The Z’porrah came to Tur and said they would uplift us. We Turleens did not accept their help. We are aligned with the Old Ones.”
“And they just let you say thanks but no thanks and didn’t try to destroy or enslave you?” Tim asked, sounding as if he believed this as much as he believed in the Tooth Fairy.
“Well, we might have said that we would eagerly consider their offer and then have pretended not to remember the offer.”
“I think I get how your people work,” Reader said. “But they didn’t come back for your answer?”
“They moved on to the rest of the sentient races in our system. Despite the example, most seem to be considering taking the Z’porrah’s offer. Meaning we Turleens will be surrounded by enemies who used to be friends.”
“Why are you against the Z’porrah’s offer, Old Ones alignment or no?” Really hoped the Old Ones Muddy meant were the Ancients, not Cthulhu and his pals, but I took nothing for granted these days.
“Because we saw what happened with the Aicirtap. They used to be very calm and loving, happy in their world, and welcoming to other races. We used to have trade with them. But when the Z’porrah came to them not with war but with supposed peace, the Aicirtap allowed them to state their case. They were eager for uplift, excited about the possibilities. But their uplift went wrong. Perhaps not wrong as the Z’porrah intended, but wrong for what the Aicirtap expected. They tripled in size, ferocity, and hunger. The Aicirtap were peaceful and loving once. They are no more.”
“That sounds horrible,” Tim said.
“It was, and it is. We Turleens cannot allow it—to be turned into monstrous versions of ourselves. But the other races in our system . . .” He spread his hands. “They believe that the Aicirtap wanted to become as they are now, and believe it will not happen to them.”
“Okay, so the Aicirtap are warlike and such now. But why are so many fleeing? And, from what we know, also fleeing from systems that are on the ‘other side’ of Tau Ceti from where Earth is?”
Muddy shuddered. “They eat us. They eat everyone.”
“All the Turleens?”
“Yes. But not just us. Everyone. They will eat anything and they will nest in anything they cannot eat. They are voracious and vicious and they are spreading out throughout the galaxy. They must be stopped. And we are not equipped to stop them.”
“Aliens and Starship Troopers combined. Does it get any better than this? And how is it you think Earth is better equipped to handle this than your system? Why in the world do you think we’re the planet to run to?” Why did everyone think we were the planet to run to? It truly couldn’t just be because of me.
“You’ve repelled the Z’porrah,” he said as if this answered everything. Knew that it probably did, so didn’t choose to argue. “You have repelled them more than once, you have dethroned an emperor, you have stopped a systemwide civil war, and you are a God.” Okay, apparently, it was just because of me. “We wish to align with you, because the Aicirtap are deadly and they have aligned with the Z’porrah.”
“And,” Reader said slowly, “all of the inhabited planets in Sirius are about to align with the Z’porrah, too.”
CHAPTER 25
“WE NEED TO GET BACK to the LSR,” Tim said. “Jeff and Chuck and the others need to know what’s going on and what’s coming.”
“No argument, but we have to handle things here first.” Besides, I wanted all the answers I could get right now, before a million people would interrupt me to ask their questions. “Muddy, why would a Z’porrah ship be coming to Earth? Not the fleet, a lone ship.”
“I told you, the Aicirtap eat anything. They will eat Z’porrah, too, if those Z’porrah are not well protected.”
“But you said they’ve aligned with the Z’porrah,” Tim pointed out.
“They have, but if they’re hungry . . .” He shrugged. “The Aicirtap are dangerous, and though they are aligned with the Z’porrah, they are no longer controlled by them.”
“And you don’t think anyone else being uplifted by the Z’porrah will be controlled by them, either, do you? You think your entire system is about to become a larger version of what the Aicirtap are.”
“We do. The others fleeing most likely do as well. The Z’porrah particularly want to uplift the Q’vox.”
This was a new race I hadn’t heard mentioned before. “Who are they?”
Muddy scrunched his face up again. “I believe you would describe them as half man, half bull. But they are huge as compared to humans.”
“Minotaur people? Why not, right? Complete with horns and hooves?”
“Hooves on their feet, yes, and very long, large, sharp and strong horns.”
“So, they sound scary.” Minotaurs weren’t known as the cuddliest creatures from Greek mythology.
Muddy shook his head. “Most Q’vox are peaceful and placid. They love art and music and food and they do not eat other sentient life forms.”
“And whose ship would these Q’vox be in?” Reader asked.
“Most likely they would be with the Faradawn.”
Well, that tracked, at least based on Jeff and Christopher saying that the Treeship was packed. “So, why uplift them? Why uplift any sentient races that already have spaceflight? It seems like overkill.”
“It is,” Muddy said. “For we younger races, the hope is longer life—both the Old Ones and the Z’porrah have found the secret to longevity.”
Based on what we knew, this was true. And I could see how it would be tremendously appealing. Apparently the Tu
rleens were suspicious-minded. Meaning I already had an affinity for them.
“Does it work?” Tim asked flatly.
Muddy shrugged. “Who can tell? We Turleens are not willing to give up our autonomy and what we consider ourselves to be in order to become the Z’porrah’s slaves.”
“You just said that the Aicirtap aren’t listening to the Z’porrah,” Reader pointed out.
“True. However, there is no proof that, should the Z’porrah trigger something, the Aicirtap would not become mindless automatons. We Turleens are not trusting of the overall motive, because we know the Z’porrah want an unstoppable army. And, if the uplift worked on the Q’vox as it did on the Aicirtap . . .”
“Yeah, we have gigantic minotaurs destroying everything and everyone.” Made a mental note that the Z’porrah wouldn’t be the only ones trying to get their mitts onto the Q’vox, and the other races, too. We had to neutralize Cliff and His Crazy Eights and Stephanie and the Tinkerer far faster than as soon as possible.
Kevin and Buchanan took this moment to return. But they didn’t have Manfred or Siler with them. Decided Muddy didn’t need to hear whatever they were going to tell us. “Muddy, would you please ask your people to stop genuflecting?” He smiled, nodded, and went to the rest of the still-bowing Turleens. Turned back to the others. “Malcolm, what did you find?”
“No need to sound so worried, Missus Executive Chief. Siler and Manfred realized something was wrong with their prisoners.”
“Mostly because those prisoners tried to overpower them in the elevator,” Kevin added dryly. “As Siler put it, that was something of a clue. There was no issue with our side winning, of course, and instead of bringing them out here to cause more problems, Manfred and Siler took them to a holding cell.”
“Well done. Has anyone seen John?”
Both men shook their heads. “And Siler hasn’t seen him, either,” Buchanan added, sounding just a tiny bit worried. He looked behind me at the Turleens. “You sure we can trust them?”
“Seems that way. As always, events will tell.”
We indicated that the Field agents in attendance should be guarding the other prisoners and had Claudia and Lorraine come over so we could update everyone on what Muddy had told us and ensure that we all got sunburned together, though I presumed Reader would tan perfectly, as would the girls. And everyone else. Maybe Tim would sunburn to show solidarity with me, but I doubted it. I was always the lobster in any group.
“Do you think we can believe them?” Kevin asked when we were done. “They could just be telling us what we want to hear.”
“Like the DUI Dudes? I don’t think you fly from the Sirius system just to spin a bunch of lies.”
“Apparently anyone can travel across the galaxy like it’s nothing,” Reader said. “Other than us.”
“Well, that’s why it’s nice to have friends who can give you a lift. And all that.” Was about to ask if anyone had a theory as to why the DUI Dudes were okay with being around a robot that was set to explode when Tim nudged me.
“Uh, Kitty?” he said, sounding a little freaked. “I think you want to see this.” He was looking behind me.
Turned back to Muddy and his people. But I wasn’t seeing Muddy and his people anymore. I was seeing what looked like hundreds of desert tortoises. Calm, placid, dull desert tortoises, all looking as dull and uninteresting as a tortoise possibly could.
“Um, wow. They can shapeshift, too. After a fashion, at least.” Thought fast because the question was—why had they done so right now? “There are either enemies or reporters nearby. Lorraine, Claudia, we need the teams to fan out.”
Lorraine nodded, barked some commands at hyperspeed, and the girls and the rest of the A-Cs who were with us took off. Thankfully she’d only spoken a few short sentences, because hearing A-Cs speak at their normal speeds tended to make humans sick to their stomachs. Len had pointed out that this was a weapon we’d never actually used. Filed this thought in the front of my brain for review sooner as opposed to later. Hoped my brain would do me a solid and share when this was needed, but placed no bets that this would actually happen.
Len and Kyle moved Cujo, Bud, the working girls, and the two homeless men nearer to us. “What do you think’s going on?” Len asked me.
Was about to answer when Cujo jerked. “Listen. Do you hear that?”
We all listened intently. “Sounds like a sprinkler,” Rhonda said slowly. “Do you guys water out here or something?”
“Ah, no, we don’t water the desert,” Reader replied. “I don’t hear anything yet.”
Garfield jerked. “I do now.” He went pale. “We got incoming!”
I’d heard the flyboys use this term before, and they were always right. Noted that Garfield had a dirty patch on his jacket that indicated he’d done military service. Chose to err on the side of paranoia. “Everyone, link up, and that’s an order.”
Lorraine, Claudia, and the Field agents returned. “Apache helicopters coming,” Claudia shouted. “We need to get inside!”
“Get them all inside,” I told the girls, as I spun and ran over to the Turleens. “You guys need to follow the others and get inside now. We have a likely attack coming.”
One of the tortoises transformed into Muddy. “We know. We can survive it in these forms.”
“Awesomesauce and I don’t care. Get inside where it’s safe.”
“Why would being trapped inside be safe?” he asked me, sounding genuinely confused.
Had a horrible thought that made far too much sense. Gave up on worrying about how I was introducing us to a new alien race and cursed. “They don’t care that they’re caught.”
“What do you mean?” Buchanan asked from behind me. Took a fast look. Thankfully—or not, under the circumstances—everyone else was no longer visible.
“The DUI Dudes. Their job was to do exactly what they did—be rescued by us so they’d show whoever’s got the other side of the trackers I guarantee they’re wearing exactly wherever we went. We just exposed Caliente Base to attack.”
Sure enough, as I said this, the choppers appeared in the distance, probably several miles away, though anywhere near us was far too close. And while I couldn’t tell if the warheads were armed, decided to take the leap and assume they were.
“Malcolm, the hell with me. The majority of the A-C breeding population is in this base. Get inside as fast as you can and get them evacuated, and not outside, or I will tell my mother that you made a pass at me.”
He snorted. “She wouldn’t care.” He looked at Muddy. “Anything happens to her and I’ll destroy your entire race with my bare hands. Got it?”
Muddy nodded. “We will guard the Queen of the World.”
“Bring me the DUI Dudes because I don’t want them rescued so they can give their pals another one of our locations,” I shouted to Buchanan as he took off. He waved a thumbs-up at me and I turned toward the choppers. There were a dozen of them if there was one. “Muddy—are you and your people maneuverable when you’re in the air, can you carry anyone else, and how much weight can you carry?”
“We are far more maneuverable than you would think, and we are far faster than we’ve shown. And I could carry you on my back. Easily.”
Hoped that the Turleens shells weren’t really metal, because they’d been out in the sun for quite a while now. However, being a cat on a hot tin shell was the least of my worries currently.
“Then, let’s make it so and show the most anti-alien humans on the planet that the Alien Nation will not go down without a fight.”
CHAPTER 26
“YOU ARE CERTAIN these are enemies?” Muddy asked.
With perfect timing, as the lead Apache fired. Right at the hill that was essentially the roof of Caliente Base. We were just far enough away that we weren’t hit by spraying dirt, but only just.
Caliente Base was
n’t outside of the Pueblo Caliente metro area, and it wasn’t in a deserted part of town, either. It was in the desert, yes, but near to plenty of homes and businesses. Far too close, since these were war choppers and they were firing real weapons of mass destruction. There could easily be people and their pets out in this area hiking or biking, not to mention the wild animals that lived in this area. And these assholes were potentially going to destroy or kill them in the name of alien hatred.
My good friend Rage arrived and shared that it was time to stop these people sooner as opposed to later.
“Next question?”
“I see why no one argues with the Queen of the World.” Muddy shouted some orders in Turleen. As with his name, it sounded like so much watery gurgling to me. However, that didn’t matter because the Turleens all went back to their natural forms. For a moment.
Then their shells grew and slid around them and most of them took to the air—a fleet of tiny dirigibles against a dozen of the most formidable helicopters ever created for warfare. Chose not to question our odds.
Instead I put my earbuds into my phone and my ears and hit random play. No time to choose one of my now many Fight Songs lists.
But it didn’t matter. “Safer on the Outside” by American Hi-Fi hit my ears. Really hoped I was on the Algar Channel but even if I wasn’t, I was always better with music than without.
“Please let my purse be a portal again,” I murmured as I reached back in. “Because goggles would be awesome right about now. As would any other help the King of the Elves might want to toss my way. Like sunscreen.”
Algar wasn’t a real elf, but that’s what I’d nicknamed the Operations Team way back when, because they always did everything at what seemed like the moment you needed or asked for it. Had found out during Operation Infiltration that there wasn’t actually a Team, but just one individual. The one the rest of those from the Black Hole Universe were hunting with definite intent to incarcerate.
So far, they hadn’t found him. Hoped that would last because, despite his protests to the contrary, Algar helped us, me in particular, far more than his Free Will Manifesto would indicate that he would or should. I firmly believed he had a Master Plan he was following to try to right the wrongs he’d inadvertently allowed to happen to this particular universe.
