Vids of a herd of six-legged beasts appeared. Sheila Fish reported, “Carl Nelson of Campbell, on Braco, announced success in cross-breeding Earth cattle with bopums.” A vid ran of several people in a restaurant, wearing the pointed hats typical of the inhabitants of Braco, with smiles on every face. Sheila continued, “Even though the new animals are sterile, meat from them appears to be a lot easier to chew.”
Next came the weather report.
The weather gal said, “Up to six inches of snow are predicted in the eastern mountain regions.” She stepped back to the left to reveal an overlay of York with the jet stream dipping down from the north. “We can expect cooler weather in the weeks ahead.”
The scene changed to show rows of trees with electric heaters between the rows. Energy was cheap in York with so many solar panels covering public parking lots and most buildings.
“Fruit prices are expected to rise since the garnot and other crops may experience frost overnight.”
Garnot was a cash crop grown in the temperate climates of York. The small brown-skinned fruit tasted between that of a plum and a peach.
After a sigh, I switched off the telly. This was another of the quiet spells. You’d think I’d get used to this by now. Being a spy meant long periods of relative calm, followed by maddening tension as we dealt with a crisis.
Chapter 7
Ron tagged me and wanted to chat on vid.
I said, “Computer, put Ron’s vid on the wall.” In less than a second, I saw Ron’s face. From the background, I figured he was home. Today he dressed in green slacks with a yellow and green polo shirt. I had on brown slacks and jacket with a white shirt. Obviously, we didn’t have the same mother at home. Grandmother yes, mother no.
“Leanna said you might be interested in getting another pet,” he said. “A live one this time. She saw an advertisement for a moncat and sent me the link.”
On my monitor, I clicked on Cyclopedia and looked up “moncat.” They were bred from the DNA of a cat and a monkey. There was only one on Rossa, owned by a wealthy private zoon owner, and named Monk. The word “zoon” brought back painful memories of the time I was a slave. Zoons were the large agricultural areas, usually owned by one person and much like old plantations back on the home planet. I shook my head and focused on the rest of the article.
There were five of the critters back home on Earth. One lived in Berlin. Four resided in New York City where the experiments had started. All came from DNA experiments, not from cross-breeding and were male and sterile.
Guess that rules out Monk getting a girlfriend.
The Cyclopedia said, “Moncats eat nuts, fruits, and vegetables, but can also eat scraps of bopum or chicken.”
The article recommended a special toilet that a moncat could use by himself. They showed a diagram of how to connect it to the main toilet’s plumbing so it can be flushed. I shook my head.
What they won’t think of next.
I clicked on the link to the Zor Animal Shelter.
“Wanted: a home for Monk. This cute little moncat is scheduled for euthanasia in a week. An owner who couldn’t care for him anymore had dropped off Monk and the zoos wouldn’t take him.”
It showed a vid of their moncat eating peanuts with his two hands while resting on his side. Four legs showed. “Monk has two arms and four legs.” I had to admit, his soft brown long fur looked smooth and very pettable. “Monk was trained to use a toilet designed for him.” It got better as I read.
I watched the vid of Monk over and over again. Something about the littler critter appealed to me. But I wondered how he’d take to my robocat. I wasn’t concerned about Tut. His programming could be adapted to living with a live cat. Or moncat, as it were. It was the live critter I wondered about.
The part in the ad about euthanasia pulled on me. Being part Binger myself, I understood why this small critter would be put to sleep. There must not be much demand for recognizable hybrids. Specially these days.
I look at Ron’s face on the wall. Something must have shown in my face because he smiled.
“Shall we take a look at Monk?” he asked.
I pursed my lips and pressed my lips upward, while nodding.
What the hell.
#
Ron drove his little red sports car with the two seats. Today he had the top in place since the air was chilly and windy.
The first thing that caught my attention in the shelter was the smell. Not just the mixture of cats and dogs but of urine, feces, and food. You’d think this animal shelter would get more customers if they used stronger air recycling. Then again, maybe they kept the air foul so visitors might think they were rescuing an animal from all this.
“I came to see the moncat,” I told the guy behind the desk.
He turned and yelled, “Carl, they want to see Monk.”
Ron and I followed Carl through a door marked “Miscellaneous.” The air had the aroma of birds. In one cage I saw a four-winger resting on a tree limb using its claws. These birds were native to Rossa and could hover and quickly change direction. Local farmers liked them because they ate a lot of reddoes. Their second set of wings was toward the rear and they had two legs with claws. Long and mean-looking claws too.
Reddoes were a scourge for farmers since they ate crops. These red lizard-like critters had six legs, as did most of the animals native to the planet. Six inches long and with a dark reddish skin, they preferred to eat bird eggs and rats, but would eat some crops. Their predators were four-wingers and screechies. And cats. The farmers who could afford cats often kept them as household pets to keep the reddo population down. Unfortunately, cats drew screechies, who would just as soon eat a cat—or a small child.
On Rossa, Nature ruled everywhere except the cities like Zor.
The caretaker led us to a far door and through it.
“We don’t get many requests for moncats,” he said.
I spotted Monk in one cage. When the little guy looked up into my eyes, something clicked in my heart. We were buddies. I had to get him out of here.
When the caretaker opened the cage and lifted Monk out, he came to my arms at once.
He was like a baby and a cat rolled into one. When I stroked his fur, he looked up at me with a grin on his little monkey face. What can I say? We bonded right there.
“I’ll take him.”
At the front desk, I used my credit card and paid three hundred and fifty sols to get Monk. Ron carried the accessories and placed them in the boot of his car. I held Monk inside my jacket to protect him from getting cold.
When I walked up the stairs inside my apartment, Tut greeted us. Monk screeched and held on tight to me.
“The two of you might as well get used to each other.”
I parked both Monk and me in an easy chair in my living room. I petted Monk for a few minutes, while Ron put his toilet in the bathroom off my bedroom. It was not the kind that connected to the plumbing. So I would need to empty his waste bins.
I made a mental note to have a plumber in to attach it. I made another mental note to have one of my team build a similar toilet for use at the operations center for the times when Monk would stay there.
Monk stared at Tut the whole time. After five minutes, he got on the floor and sniffed my robocat, who looked like a regular cat. That was a key reason why I bought him. In five seconds, Monk turned his back to Tut. I guess he decided Tut wasn’t a threat after all.
“Tut. Reprogram to allow Monk in this apartment. This is his home now.”
Both eyes on Tut blinked twice at me in recognition of his revised programming.
Ron, Tut and Monk played chase around my apartment. Most of the time, Ron chased the two cats. Then Ron took a break to recline in the seat near mine while Monk chased Tut some more. Guess he wanted to show who was boss. Tut didn’t mind, of course.
My comm vibrated with a message from Acorn, my spy boss on Earth.
“Ron, if you could tear yourself from playing with Monk long eno
ugh, you might as well hear this. It’s from your dad.”
Monk busied himself exploring the stuff in my home while we went to my front office.
Chapter 8
It was four days after I got the first message from Deeter when I got a third one.
“Were you affected by explosion? More may come. We need to talk. Harper Hotel, room 43.”
The sender’s persistence meant I couldn’t ignore it. More might come. I brought up his two earlier messages.
The message continued, “We are as concerned about explosion at airport and mob action against aliens as you are. Maybe we can pool our resources.”
And
“Let's talk. Harper Hotel, room 43. I have information you may not have.”
Acorn had given me leeway and I felt the need to check into it.
But I didn’t want to go alone. So I texted Ron to come to my home.
He must have been off work because he replied two minutes later.
“On my way.”
I didn’t have long to wait when I heard a knock on my door.
Ron came up and we went into my office. He closed the door behind him and I replayed Acorn’s message on the white wall.
He nodded at the words “mysterious message.”
“I suggest we reconnoiter Harper Hotel.”
“Shall we take my car?” Ron asked.
“Might as well. Let’s go to the parking lot in front of the prime minister’s residence.”
We both wore blue jeans, black gloves, and jackets. Today we needed the extra wear. The wind was chilly and brisk. I didn’t look forward to snow as we approached the end of the year. Usually it fell in early November and stayed until April, making the air quite cold.
I swear Ron’s car kept getting smaller every time I got in it.
“This your new pimp-mobile?”
“You bet. But don't worry, you're not my type.”
“That's a relief.” I had to lengthen the seat beat while I fastened myself in. “Last guy must have been small.”
Ron grinned. “In that way, yes.”
I had to chuckle at that one.
It took a half hour to get to the PM’s house, despite our taking a loop to check on any tail. Traffic was light on this Saturday.
Ron walked sixty yards behind me to check on any tail on foot as we made our way on the sidewalk on Shoreline Drive to the Harper.
In the main lobby, I studied the directory. All the three-digit numbers started with a one or higher, so I figured ours was in the basement. When Ron entered the lobby and scratched his head, indicating that no one had tailed me, I went to the stairwell and descended. I walked as quietly as I could, alert for a trap as I walked, alone on the stairs.
I got to the basement level and looked toward the elevators.
In a minute, Ron came out of one and walked in my direction. I looked both ways, but no one else appeared in the basement. We examined the room numbers and when we came to 43, we put on gloves, drew our Snaps, and stood on both sides of the door. Ron on the left and me on the right. I knocked with my left hand and didn’t get an answer. I turned the knob to find it locked. Out came my trusty tool. I inserted the tip into the lock and watched the lights. In forty-five seconds, the green light on my pick came on. I pulled the door open. Darkness greeted me.
Ron pulled out his flashlight and extended its telescoping flexible arm. He pushed the arm into the room while remaining outside it. The tip of the arm had a light and a camera. He studied his monitor as he maneuvered the arm to scan the room. The movement of the tip of the flashlight must have activated motion detectors in the room because the walls of the room lit up on their own.
Ron looked at me and said, “Nobody there.”
Boxes lined three of the four walls. In the center was a ping-pong table, complete with four pairs of paddles and two white balls. Maybe hotel workers used the room for recreation.
Ron went in and searched the room for anything that transmitted a signal. In a minute he said, “Clear.”
I entered and closed the door.
Where was Deeter?
One wall had a dark rug hanging over it with a pile of boxes in front of it.
“Strange place to hang a rug.”
Ron nodded and removed boxes in front of it while I guarded him with my Snap. In seconds he cleared access, and I pulled the corner of the rug aside. There stood a door with a numeric keypad lock. Above the lock was a note on paper saying, “245613. Please destroy this note.”
Ron held the rug back while I took an image of the note on my comm. I didn't want to press the keys on the keypad with my finger lest one of them contained something poisonous on a needle. I used the nozzle of my Snap to enter those digits and heard a click. With one gloved hand, I pulled the note from the door and tucked it in my jacket pocket.
Taking positions on both sides like before, I turned the knob and shoved the door open to see darkness again. As the door swung open, the walls of the room glowed with light. It was empty.
I went in while leaving the door open with the rug hanging over it. We might need a quick exit.
We searched the small room for any clues when I felt a sting on my neck. I spun around to see where it came from. Ron fell to the floor and whatever was in the sting made me woozy. I joined Ron on the floor.
#
When I came to, I found myself strapped in a small box car as it sped along a rail in a tunnel, my ankles and wrists in metallic straps. Every twenty feet an overhead light appeared as I moved along the rail. The way the tunnel turned frequently and went up and down, along with dizziness from the drug, I could not tell what compass direction I was headed in. The tunnel appeared to be a foot wider than the car I was in so it was a tight fit. No room for two-way traffic. The walls looked like they were made of rocks with lighter strips of dirt or sandstone.
I glanced at to my left wrist and did not find my comm. So I could not trace this route later from its positioning software. The tunnel walls might have made that impossible anyway if they acted like a Faraday cage, blocking all signals.
The turns were gentle but frequent. I doubt if I traveled more than two hundred feet in a straight line.
I heard a moan and twisted around just enough to glance over my shoulder. Ron sat behind me, also bound.
“Are you all right?”
“I dunno. My head is fuzzy,” Ron replied.
We didn't have to wait long before our ride slowed and stopped.
Four small black creatures appeared on the walkway to my right. Bipedal like us. This close, I estimated their heights at around four feet tall. Black skin. I recognized them right away.
Mercons.
They all wore the same dark blue uniforms with shiny buttons. Definitely not field uniforms. More like formal attire. On the hip of one I spotted a holster with its gun. At least I thought it was a gun, although it was green from what I saw.
From my memory, I could see that all four were males. Very dark skin, almost black. They had evolved on a planet with little sunlight and most of that in the wavelengths that tanned skin. Their eyes were larger than those of humans and each had a prominent nose with nostrils more vertical than mine and longer and farther up from their mouths just shy of the bridge between their eyes.
The mercons were bipedal in that they walked on two legs and had two arms each, topped by a head. But the resemblance to humans ended there. From my study on the Net, I had learned the average male mercon stood four and half feet tall and weighed one hundred and twenty pounds. The females were smaller at just over four feet and one hundred and five pounds on average. They had very strong muscles for their size. So they looked almost like puffed up little people.
Both genders had five fingers on each hand, and five toes on each foot. So they were a smaller version of us.
Except for their hands. They had two opposing thumbs.
Three of the four in front of me stood at attention while the fourth studied us. The taller one appeared to be the office
r in charge and held a small device in his hands. He looked at it and pressed a button. With a click, my metal bindings opened and receded into the arms of my chair.
I checked for my chest Snap and found it gone. I reached down and checked my right ankle. That smaller Snap was also missing. I turned to check on Ron. He shook his head at me.
He said, “No guns.”
The head mercon guard pointed to my left, down the hallway. All four aliens moved in that direction, leaving Ron and me alone. I looked behind us at the tunnel. I saw four box cars with two empty ones behind the two we used. The lights in the tunnel were out and a black hole appeared to recede in the distance.
The taller mercon reappeared and waved us to follow.
“I think we're under the mercon embassy. It appears we've been invited.”
“Some invite,” said Ron as he rubbed the back of his neck.
We climbed out and followed the little fellas through a doorway and up a stairs. We walked up four flights before our guides split into two pairs, one pair on each side of a doorway.
The mercon in charge stood closest to the door and opened it. He entered a hallway with Ron and me in tow. The ceiling was low and I ducked to avoid scraping my head.
When we got to the end of that hallway, I saw another door. The mercon waited beside it and stood at attention. The look was universal.
When I approached him, he glanced at the knob and nodded.
I twisted the knob and opened the door.
“Come in,” said a male mercon sitting at a fireside. He pointed to two comfortable looking high-back chairs, upholstered in red.
“Have seat. Jake. Ron.”
I studied our host and recognized the ambassador himself. Gliituk. His gray hair extended down the sides of his small head and I could see part of his scalp on the top. The contrast of gray hair on black skin was stark, like crabgrass fighting to cover a black rock.
It must be a bitch to get old, when you see your body breaking down, things not working like they used to. It all happens so slowly, day by day, that you don’t notice much. Then one day, you look, really look, at your hands and they’re different, like an older persons. Like you used to see on your parent’s hands. I examined my hands and saw wrinkles.
Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2) Page 5
