Extinction: The Will of the Protectors

by Jay Korza

  I don’t like security cameras; they take away the comforting family feel of the restaurant. Of course I have a safe. Why is that interesting? I have no idea who that man was. I know he was a man because YOU told me a man was murdered in my place. If I don’t know who the man was, how would I know whether any of my staff knew him? If he had said any last words to me, I would have known there was a dead man in one of my booths last night!

  Finally, and not without an obvious show of contempt, the detectives ended the interview and said they would be in touch. Nuk’tef closed the restaurant for the day, gave his staff the day off, and sent all who wanted to go to a nearby day spa for the best treatment the spa offered—at his expense, of course.

  Two weeks later, a detective came to Nuk’tef’s home as he was getting ready to leave for the restaurant.

  “Hello sir. My name is Detective G’Yul.” The detective made a show of flipping out his holographic badge.

  The detective also emphasized his name, trying to intimidate Nuk’tef with his caste’s ranking. Not many off-worlders could distinguish one Nortes race from another, and even fewer were aware that Nortes names denoted the race they represented. And although most Nortes hadn’t cared about the caste divisions since the secession from the empire, some still made a show of pointing it out whenever they could.

  Nuk’tef was from a caste that thousands of years ago was considered a lesser people. G’Yul was from a leadership caste and apparently thought that he could flaunt that now to gain some high ground.

  Nuk’tef invited the detective in but asked him to take his shoes off before entering. Unclean workers and servants were always asked to remove their shoes before they entered their employer’s homes. It was an obvious insult but still a request the detective, by custom, couldn’t refuse.

  “How can I help you, Detective?” He was sure the officer was there for the murder investigation.

  “I apologize for having to bother you, but the original detective on the case has been transferred to another district. I have been having a difficult time finishing this case. The original detective was, to be honest, very sloppy with his notes and other vital portions of the investigation. He didn’t even record his interview with you, as is standard protocol. If he had, I wouldn’t have to bother you today.”

  “Are you implying that you need to interview me again?” Nuk’tef was less than pleased.

  “Yes. I do. And this time, I will record it so no matter what happens in the future, you won’t have to go over everything again with someone else. I can set the equipment up on your dinner table if you don’t mind?”

  “Equipment? How much equipment do you need to take an audio statement?”

  “Oh, my apologies for not making myself more clear. I will need to do a full video recording.” The detective lifted his briefcase to emphasize the fact that he had equipment with him. “So, the dinner table?”

  “Yes, but give me a moment to call my manager and let her know I’ll be in a little late today.”

  “Of course. I will get everything ready while you do that.”

  A few moments later, Nuk’tef sat at his table. A very high-tech piece of camera equipment was pointed right at him. The detective had a tablet in front of him that monitored the video feed from the camera. Nuk’tef thought that was odd, that the detective monitored the video as it recorded. Why would he need to do that?

  “Now. Let’s start with something simple. Your name please, for the record.”

  “Nuk’tef. First son of Gurn’tuk.”

  “And you own a restaurant in which a man was murdered two weeks ago.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know the man?”

  “No.”

  “Had you ever seen him in your establishment before?”

  “No.”

  “Did your subsequent record checks show you if he had ever been a customer before?”

  “No. At least he never paid a bill before. He could have been there before with someone who paid for him.”

  “What did he tell you before he died?”

  “Excuse me? Why would you think he told me anything? As I said in my first statement, I went home without knowing he was dying in the booth.”

  “Dying, you say?”

  “What?”

  “Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to say that you went home not knowing he was dead in the booth? One sentence means you know he wasn’t dead yet, which would imply you were in fact aware he was there.”

  “I know he was dying and not dead because the other detectives told me, based on his time of death, he was probably still alive when I left, though almost dead.”

  “Hmmm… Okay. So, he didn’t say anything to you then?”

  Nuk’tef started to get a bad feeling and didn’t like where this was going. “You know, I already gave my statement to two other detectives. In fact, I talked to them for three hours. If they didn’t do their job and record it, that’s not my fault. So unless you have a legal reason to compel me to sit here and do this all over again, I want you to leave so I can get to work.”

  Nuk’tef stood up violently to make his point.

  “Sit down. Sir.” The detective had a different look in his eyes now. “I’m not done yet, and I need you to cooperate until I am.”

  Nuk’tef had something click in his mind as he sat down again. G’Yul said the detective on the case was transferred, but there had been two working together at the original scene, not one. He also realized the detective watched the tablet screen more than Nuk’tef. Could it be some sort of lie-detecting video camera and the tablet gave Nuk’tef’s results?

  One more thing winked in Nuk’tef’s brain. “Fine. But I want to see your badge again so I can get your number and file a complaint.”

  “Of course, sir.” G’Yul pulled out his badge and turned on the hologram.

  Nuk’tef was never good at gambling; he couldn’t bluff his way past a blind man. And G’Yul definitely wasn’t a blind man.

  The detective struck out across the table and landed a punch to Nuk’tef’s nose. There was a distinct crack and a small splatter of blood as Nuk’tef was thrown backwards out of his chair and sprawled out on the floor.

  At first, he was glad to be flying back out of his chair. He thought it would give him some distance and time to rally before G’Yul could come at him again. He was wrong. The very spry man leapt over the dinner table and was on top of Nuk’tef in an instant.

  “How did you know?”

  Nuk’tef didn’t answer and received a hard cupped slap to the side of his head. Pain shot through his ear and head.

  “How?”

  Reluctantly he said, “There were two detectives on the case, not one.”

  He got another slap to the same ear.

  “What?! I answered you!”

  “There was something else. Something about the badge.”

  “Why do you care?” Nuk’tef stalled, tried to buy time for something, anything that might get him out of this.

  The man laughed. “I’m a bit of a stickler for details. I consider myself to be a professional in my career field. I’m not above admitting that I sometimes make mistakes, but I work very hard not to. And I obviously made at least two today and I’d like to know what the other one was.”

  “How about you leave me a comment card and I’ll fill it out later?”

  That response got Nuk’tef a quick jab to his throat. Not enough to injure or kill him, but enough to make him cough and wheeze and think hard about his next response.

  This time, G’Yul didn’t even ask the question; he just looked at Nuk’tef with his head cocked. How did you know?!

  “Your badge. The district just had its centennial celebration last week and the district emblem changed to a new design. There was a big story on the news the other day and it showed the new badges the police have. Yours is the old version.”

  “Damn the Holy. Good catch, I’m impressed. Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

&
nbsp; “Good. Now I can ask you the only question left that matters. Who else knows what that man told you before he died?”

  “I told you, I left that night not knowing he was in there.”

  A much harder cupped clap to his right ear again, this time blowing it out. The pain was excruciating, almost enough to make him pass out.

  But G’Yul didn’t know it was only almost. He looked at Nuk’tef’s limp form. “Great.”

  He stood up and walked over to the sink to get a glass of cold water. When he returned, he swore again. Nuk’tef had finally bluffed well for once in his life.

  Nuk’tef raised the heavy vase as high above his head as he could and then brought it down on the back of G’Yul’s. The larger man went down in a heap.

  Nuk’tef tied the man up after briefly considering killing him. He knew his current life was over anyway, and this man wasn’t a real cop, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  After five years of running an information den and talking to his father about his time in the service, Nuk’tef had put together a comprehensive bug-out plan with equipment, money, new identification, and many other implements.

  He grabbed a suitcase from the closet that was already packed with clothes that he had gotten from a secondhand store using cash. The clothes were completely different from the style he was used to and others were accustomed to seeing him in. He would change later; he needed to leave his home looking like himself.

  He opened his bedroom safe and emptied the contents into a bag, except the three different identification passes he put on the bed. He flipped open the first one to make sure it was in order. This was the one he would use to fly to another district. The name and identification number belonged to a real person who lived in Nuk’tef’s district. This person also took frequent trips to another district to visit family. Nuk’tef knew that whoever was looking for him would search the flight logs for names that couldn’t be cross-referenced in any database, which would show them a fake ID had been used and his pursuers would track that person.

  The second ID would be used to get off the planet. This one was a fake name and number. This was the riskiest of the three passes. There were very few Nortes who were born of interspecies parents, and this rarity sometimes caused more scrutiny towards them when dealing with any government officials.

  Nortes were a very secluded and private people by their own making after the secession from the empire. They were always leery of the interspecies Nortes citizens, especially any who held a Coalition identification card. Their loyalties were always in question, as was their business.

  But, leaving the planet as a Nortes citizen was a highly documented process. A fake Nortes identification card was more easily caught under the scrutiny of leaving the planet, as compared to a fake Coalition one. And Nuk’tef could only physically pass for a full Nortes or an interspecies half-breed, so he chose the one that made his trail harder to follow.

  The Coalition ID would stand out a little to anyone searching for Nuk’tef leaving the planet, but it also couldn’t be tracked after he left and its validity couldn’t be verified because it didn’t originate from the Nortes government.

  The third identification card would be his last one used: the person he would become once he was in Coalition space. This would be him until he died, one way or the other. He looked at the name and absentmindedly ran his fingers over it.

  ~

  Six months later, Nuk’tef still wandered through Coalition cities. He was almost out of money but he felt certain no one followed his second identification he still used.

  He didn’t know what to do next. He drank his beer—he hated the human drink—and looked around the bar. He saw a few women who obviously looked at him, but he didn’t feel like wasting the money it would take to get anywhere with them.

  Looking past them, he saw something familiar. It was an information deal. Not many people would have been able to spot it, definitely none of the usual denizens of this sort of establishment. But he had, and he decided to use what he had learned running his restaurant to start his new career as an information broker.

  He saw the deal finish and decided to approach the broker. If he was big time, he might have a spot for a lowly runner. Nuk’tef didn’t mind starting from the bottom. If the broker wasn’t big time, there wouldn’t be any harm in talking to him and making a friend that might lead to something later.

  As Nuk’tef approached the broker, an average looking human stepped out from the crowd and blocked Nuk’tef’s path.

  Nuk’tef was focused on his destination so he didn’t see the human’s movement as purposeful. “Oh, I’m sorry sir. Excuse me.” Nuk’tef was always polite, something his father had taught him.

  The human didn’t move except to put a vise-like grip on Nuk’tef’s arm. “You don’t want to go over there.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “I saw you watch the deal. You don’t want to be a part of what happens next.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” He still couldn’t bluff.

  “Look, all you need to know is that I am very aware of every identification card that has been used to buy anything in this bar tonight. Your Coalition identification is great, but fake.”

  Nuk’tef tried to back away but was blocked by a Shirka who had no plans of letting him go.

  “I also know that you’re running from some very enthusiastic and unrelenting people.”

  “How did you…I mean, what…who are you?!”

  The man laughed as he gestured towards a nearby table. “You can call me Major.”

  The major sat down and Nuk’tef followed his lead. “As to how I know, well, your DNA was easily sampled from your first beer and I ran it through our database. There are some people in the Nortes government who would like very badly to find you.”

  “You’re with the Coalition.” Nuk’tef wasn’t asking.

  “Yes.”

  “So why wouldn’t you just hand me over to the Nortes government?”

  “Because, the people who want you are in the government, but not the government that everyone is aware of. They are a shadow group, working within their legitimate offices to do some very illegitimate things. We don’t know how high up the empire they go, but we’re sure it’s pretty damn high.”

  “All the way,” Nuk’tef muttered.

  “So you do know something.” The major smiled even more. “I can help you, I promise.”

  Nuk’tef didn’t need to even think about it. If he tried to run, the Shirka with the major would stop him. His cover was blown, he was almost out of money, and he had no other options at the moment. Not to mention he was tired. He needed this to be over, for better or worse.

  It didn’t take long to tell his story; there wasn’t much to it. Half a beer later, it was all out and off his chest. He felt more relief than he thought he would have.

  “The empress, hmmm…” The major took a sip of his own beer. “Well, that gives some credibility to some of our theories of how far the inner cabal goes, but it is circumstantial at best.”

  “What now?” Nuk’tef almost didn’t care what the answer was.

  “Did you bring another identification card with you? Because that one you’re using now just won’t work anymore.”

  Nuk’tef reached into his pants, opened the secret pocket, and pulled out the third identification card. He handed it to the major.

  The major looked it over. “I can work with this. So tell me Shar’tuk, have you ever heard of the Marines?”

  Chapter 14

  The warrior loomed over Fang, poised to rain furious fisted blows into his head and midsection. A few yards away, Wilks pushed himself up to his knees, took a ragged breath, and moved to help Fang.

  Fang held his hand up to Wilks. “No!”

  The warrior sneered at his adversary’s will. Instead of striking the already beaten Shirka, the warrior stood and offered his lower left hand to Fang. The other combatant took the offered hand and stood up.r />
  “You fight well for prey.” The warrior enjoyed giving backhanded compliments to the Coalition soldiers.

  “Grrrrr…” was Fang’s only response.

  Wilks came forward as he stretched and rubbed his right shoulder. “You did it again, Cueball.”

  The warrior never had had a name until he became a part of the human Coalition four months ago. He wasn’t sure he liked Cueball, but it was one of several nicknames the humans had for him. They hadn’t decided on a final one yet.

  Last year, the warrior had been a soldier with his own people, stationed aboard a ship assigned to watch a long-since abandoned Nortes expansion colony. In the final fight above the archeological dig site, the warrior abandoned his people and fled in his fighter craft.

  The warrior was caught by the Coalition soldiers soon after he deserted his comrades. For months he was questioned and tested. They wanted every secret his mind and DNA had.

  He gave up everything he knew almost instantly. He wasn’t sure why he felt so different from his brothers, but he knew he was. He knew then as he knew now that he had no desire to die for no other reason than he was told he had to. He knew that he wanted—no, needed—to be a part of something bigger. He wanted to be part of something good.

  Given the disastrous results the Coalition was having with its two simultaneous wars with the warriors and the Cherta, the top brass decided to put Cueball with Seth and Emily’s team. They believed the warrior wanted to be more than he was designed to be and they gave him the opportunity to prove it.

  No one on the team was prepared for or happy with the decision that was made for them. But in just a short time, Cueball had started to earn his keep and was well on his way to becoming a valued member of the team.

  The team still kept a close eye on him, but the spark of trust was there; he just needed to keep fanning it until it became a flame.

  In today’s exercise, they were working on unarmed combat against the warrior. The team had fared very well against warriors in the field, but they found in a sparring match, when they couldn’t use weapons, the warrior was almost unstoppable.