I said, “Which means we have to watch them closely to see what weapons they develop down on Ensam.”
“Which they surely will,” contributed Vincent.
Zetto asked the million sol question. “What do we know about their weapons development?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I replied. “I figure we'd better help them so we can get some leverage into finding out the answer to that question.”
Andy Warden had nothing to add. The others nodded in their sections of my wall.
I added, “Gliituk is excited that maybe they’ve broken their pattern of cycles this time. Only two previous cycles had space travel, the one that seeded humans and the one that seeded the napes. But the human one happened so long ago they had few records with any details.”
Leave it up to Vincent, possibly the smartest man on my team, to put his finger on the key issue. “If they develop weapons down there, and that leaks out, the human population on Rossa will go berserk.”
I added, “And could go on another witch hunt for Bingers.”
Leanna asked me, “Have you told you-know-who?”
“He’s next,” I replied, knowing she referred to Acorn.
Vincent brought up an old problem. “I hate to mention this now, but having the mercons here on Rossa presents an opportunity for the Binger community.”
Ron said, “What kind?”
Vincent replied, “We have always wanted a place to call our own. Maybe a piece of Braco could be it.”
Ever since the persecution of Bingers on Earth there had been talk of finding a place where Bingers could migrate to and call their own. Where they could be free of persecution, where they would not have to hide their DNA or their extra strength. A place they could call Home.
I brought up the major objection as I saw it. “You think the residents of Braco would be willing to give up part of their island for Bingers? With Bingers on the western side and mercons to the east, they might not like being in the middle of such a sandwich.”
Ron was quick to add. “Gliituk and Tettar feel more comfortable with us than most non-Binger humans. Remember what they said about visiting Earth long ago? I think they feel humans are their descendants, or at least cousins of a sort.”
No one said anything for a minute. I could tell the idea had appeal.
Chapter 11
After I closed the joint session on my wall, I pondered Acorn’s recent request. Then I got a surprise tag.
I flared my nostrils to answer. Those who had control over their nasal muscles could open a comm call with such action. Otherwise, they had to tap one nostril to open the tag and two to close.
“Hi Jake. Gancha Morentoss here.”
Whoa!
I had dated Gancha before I met Leanna. She and I had broken up because I wanted a longer term relationship and she wanted her freedom. Now that she was on Rossa, she wanted to start up again.
After the death of my current flame, Gancha and I had dinner at the Top of the Town in the penthouse of the Embassy Suites. She had inherited the criminal empire of James Venisio and, since she had a small fortune now, paid for the meal.
I had to hand it to her. She was a half-Binger like me and one helluva tough woman. She could handle guns well and kept in shape. Two big pluses.
During our chitchat over a meal, she had asked if I was a spy. Every Binger knew that my uncle tried to recruit every Binger. I had toyed with idea of inviting her to join my BIS team but had avoided telling her too much.
We shared a goodnight kiss before I walked out of Venisio’s house. Correction, her house now. Another correction. It was a terrific kiss.
“What do you want? I’m kinda busy,” I replied. Not really but the habit of lying was hard for this spy to break.
“I moved out of the large house in Beverly Hills into a smaller one in Corey. Sold the big house too, along with much of his old artwork. The rest I gave away to the Zor Museum of Art.”
I remembered last year when the voters in the unincorporated area elected to start a new city as a suburb of Zor.
“Still head of an empire?”
“No. Well, sorta. I sold all but the drugs and gambling. Those two provide a rich source of income. Which brings me to my point. Care to eat out? My treat. I have oodles of money now. You name the place. We’ll go.”
I thought of Alena’s being on Rossa. At the moment, things were quiet.
One thing for sure, I still wasn’t convinced that I should let Gancha back into my life.
“I don’t know, Gancha.”
“I have a proposition for you I don’t think you’ll be able to reject.”
“If you’re thinking of marriage, that’s out.”
“Nope,” she replied. “That’s not it.”
What the hell?
#
Since he came late, Zetto Teasely sat in one of the dark brown metal folding chairs near the back of the community center hall. The room was cool so he was glad he’d kept on his brown jacket and thicker brown slacks over his white short-sleeved polo shirt.
Stenton Duran stood on the stage dressed in dark blue. He must have been wearing one of those lapel microphones because Zetto could hear him clearly across the fifty yards between them, despite the hundreds of people in the room. He located eight black speaker boxes hanging from the walls.
Duran said, “And now let’s hear from our founder, the honorable Guy Coocher!” He clapped his hands and everyone in the audience followed his example.
Coocher came up to the center of the stage, also dressed in dark blue. As the clapping diminished, he continued. “Thank you for your warm greeting.”
Zetto heard him speak with power, like old Texan money, in a slight southern drawl worn down by years of addressing crowds.
Coocher continued. “We came to Rossa to get away from the sameness of Earth. We came here to get away from the damned aliens and the robots. We came here to get away from half-humans, half-robots. Let us keep our humanity. It's precious.”
He paused before adding, “We deserve a place to call our own. We deserve Rossa to be free of robots and aliens!”
Zetto found his view blocked as many of the guys in front of him stood to give Coocher a standing ovation. He pulled himself up and joined in.
He scanned the crowd. Being six foot five helped. Three men along the walls studied the crowd and did not join in the clapping. One of them scanned the crowd and focused on him. Thinking they might be scouts, Zetto raised the rate of his clapping. He cupped his hands over his mouth so his voice would carry farther and cheered.
“You tell ‘em!”
He returned to his seat when the rest of the audience sat and listened to Coocher’s litany of hatred toward hybrids, aliens, and Bingers. At the mention of Bingers, Zetto nodded in agreement and raised one clenched fist with a thumb up as if to say, “Right!”
The speeches took another half hour, and he followed the crowd as they exited the hall.
He stood in line at the buffet to pick up a paper plate and grab some mushrooms, meatballs, vegetables, and BBQ beans. He tasted one of the meatballs. Sure enough, it was bopum and tough to chew. The flavor of the sauce was good though and he managed.
He grabbed a gray metal folding chair at a card table at the edge of the huge room. The other three men sitting there enjoyed the hors d'oeuvres. The noise level was high, though. Zetto looked around. Cement walls and floors, metal doors, flat metal pieces in the ceiling. Nobody said much and kept busy eating. As he finished and leaned back, someone tapped his shoulder.
Two men in gray suits stood next to him. One said, “Can we speak to you for a minute?”
He nodded to his left and Zetto left his plate to follow them.
The guy went into a small room and his partner closed the door behind him. The noise level dropped.
“We noticed you’re new here,” said the leader. He extended his right hand. “I’m Jan Teller.” Jan had a belly on him and nodded to his right. “And this is Bob Backhurst.”
“Yates Smythe,” Zetto volunteered.
“Like what you hear?” asked Jan.
“Yeah! That guy Coocher’s right on,” replied Zetto.
“We agree. Is there anything you liked the most about what he had to say?”
“The part about the damned Bingers.”
“Oh? And why’s that?” asked Jan.
“I got passed over for a promotion once. I think the man who got it was a Binger.”
Jan looked at his partner and back to Zetto. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. I hate those bastards.”
“Why’d you think he was a Binger?”
“Big sucker. Broad shoulders. Stood about here,” Zetto raised one hand flat out at the height of his nose. “They don’t make them that big on Rossa.”
“You’re pretty tall yourself. Come from Earth?”
“Yep. Came as a teenager with my parents. Dad and Mom had to get away from all those robots and such. Hated to leave my friends behind but family is important.”
Jan nodded. “You got that right. May I ask what you do for a living?”
“I repair computers,” Zetto replied and grinned. “But what I really like is communications.”
Jan looked at Bob.
“Yates, we’re having a private meeting in a couple days. Care to join us?”
“Sure!” replied Zetto with lit up eyes.
An hour later, he left the parking lot.
Thanks for the practice sessions, Jake.
#
Donned in casual clothes like most students these day, Alena Dani had on maroon slacks and a white T-shirt with the words “I love my attitude problem” in black letters and with a heart in place of the word “love.” Alena was an exceptional student and liked being thought of as “different.”
After her biology class with Dr. Albert K. Albert, she approached the professor at his desk next to the lecture table. On the table lay an assortment of the artifacts he had brought back with him from Braco when he visited the nape reservation. A club, a spear, a knife, two baskets, a pouch made of bopum leather, and finally, three nape dolls, complete with long black hair. He wore a white lab coat and under it, gray slacks and a white shirt.
“Dr. Albert, do you remember me?”
He looked up and adjusted his glasses. “Of course. You’re Ms. Dani, aren’t you? The one who’s always asking questions?”
“I hope you don’t mind my asking them.”
“Of course not! It shows you have an interest in xenobiology.”
“I’m pursing my Ph. D. in xenoanthropology.”
His face grew more serious. “Then I’ll be your advisor. That’s my specialty. I came to Rossa ten years ago to study the napes. I find them very fascinating.”
He waited while she paused. “Is there something else you want to ask me?”
“Yes, there is. The girls in my dorm are only interested in boys and parties. I find it hard to study when they’re around. What do you recommend I do?”
“My wife Francine and I have a three bedroom house. I use one bedroom for my home office and the basement for my lab. I’ll ask her if she’s interested in your staying with us.”
“Would you?” Alena’s eyes lit up. “That would be great!”
She savored the chance to ask him questions. Maybe she could wiggle an invitation to visit the napes on Braco on one of his expeditions.
That would be so cool!
Chapter 12
After alerting Ron and Zetto to my dinners date with Gancha, I put on my dark blue outfit of slacks, business jacket, and shoes. And a pink shirt. Any guy who commented on my attire risked a busted nose. I wouldn’t hit a woman.
Naturally I put on both Snaps. I’d feel naked without them. The shoulder holster fit snugly under my left arm and the smaller Snap on my right ankle was light.
I pulled up at the gate of the new home of Gancha, a residential house in the suburb of Corey, off Indio Road and east of Ambassador Boulevard. I presented my ID, received a wave, and advanced into the lush community. Everywhere I turned were trees. The dark orange flowers on the trees informed me they were native to this planet.
Her house looked expensive, standing two stories tall and surrounded by a wall of gray stone masonry.
After parking in her driveway, I walked up her cement steps and rang the front door bell. In a minute, the door opened to show a dark-skinned woman in a soft dress with diagonal stripes of purple and yellow. Gancha wore a dark purple knitted shawl over her shoulders. Her hair was wavy and black. She must have remembered how I liked to caress her hair. She wore low heeled shoes. Maybe she didn’t want to be taller than me.
I steered up Indio Road and made a left on North Central Park Avenue.
She said, “I thought a lot of my future. I’ve sold the big old house of my grandfather’s. Do you like my new place?”
“The outside looks very nice,” I replied.
“Maybe I’ll get a chance to show you the insides later.”
Maybe she had more in mind.
We chatted little as I drove to the Embassy Suites. You could cut the tension in the air. Perhaps neither of us was willing to say any words, lest we regret them. I know I felt that way.
Once we got to the Top of the Town, our hostess led the way to a booth and I sat opposite Gancha. To my left I saw the lights of the city, including the red lights going north over the dark patch of the Oreo River and the brighter white lights going south. Soft piano music played in the background. Perfect for an easy night out with a date.
She had a glass of Chardonnette, the Rossan equivalent of Chardonnay. I had Merlotte, the Rossan equivalent of Merlot. She ordered lobster. It was expensive since they hadn’t figured out a way yet to get the crustaceans to grow in the waters on Rossa. They had to be transported live from Earth. Guess she still felt flush with her wealth.
I had sirloin tip, made with real cattle from Earth. I wasn’t ready to try the new bopum yet, despite its claim of being easier to chew than ever before.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” I said as I lifted my glass of wine.
She brought hers to mine and we touched them. I read someplace that the old custom of clicking glasses came from the Norse who thought that by doing so they would chase away the evil spirits in their beer mugs. Maybe that was an excuse they made up for more drinking.
It’s funny how we retain habits way past their usefulness.
“You look good, too,” she replied as she grinned over the top of her glass.
After she rested hers on the white tablecloth, her head tilted down. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I miss my old life back on the home planet. All this wealth,” she raised her head and waved her hand, “came as a surprise. Out of the blue, so to speak.”
“You’ll get settled in. Give it some time.”
She shook her head and sipped her wine. “Don’t think so. I sold the big house and a lot of the stuff in it and I divested myself of some of my grandfather’s empire. I retained the gambling and drugs. Like I said, they provide easy income. On the legit side, I’ve retained a few small businesses and my share of Channel One. Thought that might come in useful someday.”
She stared at her glass of wine. “What I mean to say is, I want to get back into some action.” She lifted her gaze to look me in the eyes. “I want to join your spy ring.”
Whoa.
Not only had I never admitted being a spy, I wasn’t sure she could fit in. She had good qualities though. Fast thinking on her feet. Kept in physical shape. Was used to breaking into places. And she was a Binger, so she could carry a lot of stuff.
I must have been lost in thought because I didn’t notice the silence until our waitress brought our food. That kept us busy for a few minutes.
“What do you think?” she asked when we were alone again. “I know you’re a spy. I’ve kept that to myself, by the way. Good ol’ Berry tries to recruit every…” she paused and looked around, “one of us.”
It was no u
se pretending any longer. I nodded. “You’re right. But having you on board could be a problem.”
“So? I could be a consultant. You could use me on your special operations. That’s what I really want anyway. Besides, I’m going nuts being rich with nothing to do.”
I cut off a piece of my steak.
“I can’t go back to Earth,” she said. “Jimmy Dice got off with only two years. He was my former boss.”
She put on her plastic bib to protect her dress and used her strong hands to break open one claw of her entrée. As she slid out the pink meat inside, she continued.
“That means he plea bargained. Maybe he gave up information on me to get his own sentence reduced. After all, I wasn’t around anymore. And since York has an extradition treaty with the USA, if the cops here ever learned of the warrant, I could be deported back to Earth. That means a possible death sentence, or at least decades in a cage.” She paused and looked in my eyes.
“I hate cages. Been there, done that. It’s not for me. I’d rather die.”
I nodded and cut and placed another piece of my steak in my mouth.
“But I miss the action,” she continued, “The thrill of risk.”
She inserted a piece of the pink meat in her mouth and closed her eyes while chewing. When she swallowed, she said, “I haven’t had lobster in a long time. Too long.”
Her next words came with a small problem.
“Unipol has a warrant waiting for me. So I can’t travel to Earth. That means no spy school on the home planet.”
That also meant no spy training other than what we could provide here.
I put a piece of my beef in my mouth and savored the flavor. There’s nothing like the real thing. Next came a sip of Merlotte to wash it down.
She reached across the table and put her right hand on top of my left. “There’s a bonus in it for you.”
We both knew what that meant.
“I’m still not sure,” I said.
She withdrew her hand.
Was that a sign or what?
“I’ll have to discuss this with my team.”
“You don’t make those decisions by yourself?” she asked.
Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2) Page 7
