Goldman shook his head, smiling. “At ease, Sergeant. We’re just glad you survived.” The vest had almost quit smoking. “But if you don’t get that thing back on, something else might zap you, and we still have us some civilians to locate.”
Another five minutes passed without further trouble, then one of the soldiers radioed, “Colonel, Stoner here. I think we have ‘em. About fifty yards north of where Brown was attacked. They...they appear to be huddled under a rock overhang, covered with---yeah, covered with snow and wrapped in space blankets.”
The medical officer called, “Condition report!”
“Hard to say, Captain. Barnes appears to be lying on top of the two aliens---and he’s really cold. Stiff, too. Nobody’s conscious; I can’t even tell if they’re breathing.”
“Shit-shit-shit!” Captain Lucas muttered as he made his way over rocks and uneven footing to the location, then fell to his knees and stripped off his tactical gloves. Pressing bare fingers to Barnes’ throat he paused, not breathing---then took a welcome breath. “He’s alive, so the aliens are probably alive as well.”
“But sir,” Stoner injected, “he’s stiff, and his limbs are actually white!”
“Severe frostbite, Stoner,” the medical officer said, “but he’s got a pulse so he’s not dead yet!” The men carefully brushed the snow away and extracted Barnes’ rigid form, covering it with a more substantial blanket. “We don’t want to warm him too fast,” Lucas warned, “since he’s well into hypothermia. The Yularians have medical facilities that can treat him better than anything we can do out here.” He turned to the vixens. “Let’s see how the foxes are.” Slipping a cold, bare hand under the nearest Yularian’s space blanket, Lucas suddenly smiled. “Compared to Barnes, this one’s nice and toasty. Let’s ease her out and check the other one.” He repeated the hand-check, and his smile melted away. “This one’s lots colder, but I think she’s still alive. Get some extra blankets and wrap her---shit! She’s got a broken leg-arm-whatever. Damn, her right arm’s broken pretty badly, so be extra careful not to make it worse.” They eased B’naah out into the open. “Poor old girl. She looks like she’s been through the wringer.”
Goldman called for the Osprey to return, and to lower rescue baskets and lines to retrieve the civilians, the soldiers...and their fatality.
It didn’t take long for the big tilt-rotor machine to return to the staging area at the Bob Hope Airport, but when the squad arrived they discovered they had company: A Yularian “hopper” starship was sitting on the tarmac, and it wasn’t alone. Three ugly Yularian military cruisers were also perched ominously by the alien transport, and dozens of police and US military vehicles had cordoned off the area. “Colonel Goldman,” Master Sergeant Baker remarked, his eyes extra-wide in his dark features, “I didn’t think we allowed those...those killer ships to land on Earth! Sir, what’s---?”
“It’s a new era, son,” Goldman said, shaking his head. “You don’t know the half of it. In fact, you don’t even know five percent of it.” When the man turned and looked at his commander and long-time friend, Goldman added, “We’re just getting started. Six months from now--- God help us.”
Human and alien medical personnel carefully unloaded the three crash victims from the belly of the Osprey, and the aliens quickly hustled the trio to the waiting starship. The human medical personnel were politely elbowed out of the way while the aliens hastened to prepare the still-unconscious trio for cold sleep. Fifteen brief minutes later the patients were encapsulated in their stasis chambers---Barnes near death, L’raan in reasonable condition but with severe frostbite and her grandmother still tenaciously clinging to life. The humans moved away, the loading ramp on the starship retracted, and the beautiful flying saucer hummed into the sky, followed by its trio of lumpy, weapons-festooned war ships, which would accompany---and guard---it on the week-long journey to the Yularian home world. The Yularian medical personnel assured the anxious humans that, given time, they could repair all of the damage, and for them to relax. Apparently Barnes & company had dodged yet another bullet.
But for how much longer?
Chapter 29
Showtime, the Finale
Being nearly turned into a corpsicle was not something I could recommend, but once again, the Yularian medical folks pulled my ugly butt back from the brink of death. It had taken five long months to fully rehab me, while B’naah and L’raan had popped into and out of rehab much quicker. Much of my body had been literally frozen---and very dead---and those parts had to be regenerated instead of simply rejuvenated, which took much longer. The elderly vixen had required a lot of restorative work to return her to vitality, but her arm had been fully reconstructed, and even her thinning, graying fur looked thicker and shinier. L’raan had lost a few fingers and toes, but they’d been regrown as well, and she looked--- Well, other than when I first met her, she’s always looked great. Sexy little piece of fluff!
It was nice to have my hearing restored in my newly regrown left ear, but when word of the soldier who’d died during our rescue reached us, it took a lot of the bounce out of all our medically-restored steps. That was two good men that Art Goldman had lost in this mess, and their deaths weighed heavily on my soul. I only hoped that today’s Alliance Council meeting would move this toward a resolution. Art had been unusually quiet once I’d recovered enough to communicate with him, and I was worried about---well, about a lot of things I still couldn’t talk freely about.
But first, we had to get through a dog-and-pony political show, and I wasn’t happy about that at all.
We’d been sequestered in a small anteroom just off the Great Hall of the Council. There’d already been near-bloodshed between me and the arrogant protocol officer, but with B’naah’s help (aided by her considerable professional clout) I’d won. I’d be allowed to wear a small “modesty flap” over my genitals, when everybody else, regardless of species or sex, had to appear fully unclothed except for ceremonial symbols and staffs of office or rank. Damn it, I just couldn’t bring myself to appear before the most powerful, diverse group of aliens in the Alliance with my naked “package” waving in the breeze! “Unlike your sleek, fur-covered bodies,” I told the Yularian bureaucrat in English, my little translator disc, hanging on a chain around my neck, yipping and yapping in Yularian, “our mostly furless human bodies have very little protection against the elements; therefore we cover at least certain parts of them.” This didn’t impress the bureaucratic twit, so I added, “Also, most humans have very strict social rules against appearing before anybody other than our mates with our genitals exposed. To do so is the vilest of insults, and I’m damned well not going to break my kind’s taboos just to satisfy your arcane custom!” I stared him down, my lips drawn back in an unmistakable carnivore snarl. “You’ve inspected both my body and this little flap of fabric for ‘hidden weapons’---and so help me, if you stick your cold nose in my crotch again I’ll rip it off and shove it up your butt!” B’naah stepped between the pissy little male and me before matters could escalate into a physical altercation, and after a whispered but intense “yip-and-snarlfest”, he respectfully hung his head, his ears and tail drooping in defeat.
Then there was the issue of the colored genital and tail ribbons! It seemed that each male was required to wear a bright blue-colored ribbon tied around his balls, as well as another one tied around the base of his tail. A female simply wore a green ribbon looped around her waist, tied in front, and dangling down below her crotch, and she also wore a matching green ribbon tied around the base of her tail. This was to visually differentiate between males and females at a distance, since up close most species also relied on scent to tell males and females apart. Since my balls were to be covered by the fabric flap---and I had no tail!---I had to wear a longer blue ribbon that hung below the flap to be visible in front, and I simply dangled a blue ribbon down between my butt-cheeks from the flap’s waist cord.
When in Rome...dress like a Roman---but to my human sensibilities
this was beyond ridiculous!
Still, I gave him a pass on the ribbon absurdity since I’d already won another minor battle with him over my little crucifix, which hung on its own tiny chain right above the translation disc. He’d grudgingly allowed me to keep it since the crucifix was a common human religious symbol, but only after I’d allowed him to inspect it (secretly holding my breath that Bertha’s lethal little device wouldn’t trigger an alarm). When he saw the little medallions the other members of our group were wearing---again courtesy of Bertha---he’d started raising a fuss, but D’naad quickly interceded with some official-sounding mumbo-jumbo that apparently incorporated the items into their symbols of family and/or rank. Or something. Hell, I didn’t care, just as long as we all had our little trinkets that allowed Bertha front-row access to the event.
In time a page came to escort us to the entrance of the Great Hall, and then we had to wait just outside the door while a rather “fluffy”, long-winded description of who I was and what I’d undergone at the hands of Yularian scientists and doctors was read into the official records. While that was happening L’raan whispered to me, “I have agreed to accept D’naad’s knot.” Huh? She looked at me as if she expected me to say something.
Before I could question her B’naah explained, “She has agreed to become D’naad’s mate, Thomas, much in the way you humans handle a marriage proposal.”
Oh. Vulpines/canids. Knots. Right! I smiled benevolently at the young vixen, then, still smiling, whispered to her betrothed, “Treat her right, son, or I’ll rip your nuts off and feed them to you.” The vertical pupils in his eyes dilated almost round and his ears flattened in apparent terror...and then we were quickly escorted into the huge, chilly room where I was formally introduced as the “Most Honorable Ambassador Thomas Barnes of Earth”. I stepped forward one pace and bowed from the waist to the double-crescent-tiered, seated ranks of Councilors. Next came “Yularian Ambassador to Earth---D’naad” (he stepped up beside me and bowed), and then “Most Honorable Scientist-Physician B’naah and her Senior Assistant L’raan” (they moved up and bowed as well). Christ, but political formalities gave me gas!
And then it began.
“Ambassador Barnes,” the Chief Council said, addressing me in Yularian (my translator disc repeating it in passable English, although I understood his speech just fine without it), “the Alliance Council understands that you wish to bring a most serious matter to the Council’s attention.”
Dipping my head in an exaggerated nod, I said, “I do, Councilor B’nella. As the information each Council member has in front of him or her states, both of my Yularian companions and I have been repeatedly attacked by a deadly, yet mysterious force. Only by skilled protection from security personnel from my people’s government---and a liberal amount of blind luck---have my companions and I avoided death.” There was an increasing susurration of yips, hoots, snarls, growls and grumbles as the various aliens began looking over the information on their data pads, and after a good minute of it the Chief Councilor called for order.
“Members! Brother and sister Councilors! This disruption will not be tolerated! I’m sure that Ambassador Barnes can explain some of the...the outrageous statements in his---”
That’s when it all went to hell.
“Lies!” the Ar’kaa Councilor seated on the upper tier next to B’naah’s mate, D’oono, screamed, jumping to his feet. “The filthy human spouts nothing but lies!”
“Councilor Ee’rah!” the Chief Counselor barked, “you are out of order!”
The big rabbit was also apparently out of his mind since he continued screaming incoherently in my general direction. D’naad started to move closer to me, but I quickly motioned him away, then did the same for B’naah and L’raan. In English, my hand over my translator disc, I quickly said, “Remember what I told you earlier. We expected a reaction from at least one of them, but there’s no telling how violent this will get. I don’t want you near me in case I have to run!”
The Ar’kaa screamed a few more incomprehensible, untranslatable words in my direction, I distinctly heard a faint click in my head, then he leveled his ornate staff of office at me and--- ###########!
Flying up--- The room spinning...then not--- White-hot pain...even beyond pain--- Can’t breathe--- Looking at...the ceiling...so pretty--- Can’t breathe--- Can’t move--- See B’naah...her mouth open...no sound--- Can’t breathe--- Everything so--- Can’t brea---
Slow... Dark---
***
“Noooo!” B’naah screamed, recoiling from the sudden blinding plasma beam that spat from the Ar’kaa Councilor’s staff---the beam that had struck her human rejuvenation subject (and dear friend) Tom Barnes. She saw the human’s torso jump half a body length in the air, then fall heavily---and wetly---to the polished stone floor. As the smoke cleared she saw that the beam had obliterated the entire lower half of his body, leaving only the part above his stomach. Everything else was---
Gone.
Her friend, her Thomas---gone.
***
“Yeeeaaahh!” the young vixen screamed in concert with her grandmother. L’raan was farther away from the blown-apart human, but the horrific image affected her no less intently. “Tom!” she cried, but the man’s torso, minus its lower part and the left arm below the elbow, was simply a smoking, bloody, boney, horrible mess. The intact remainder had fallen like an obscene lump of dough to lay on its back, the eyes staring widely towards B’naah. Then the life left them, and they became dull. Tom Barnes was dead.
***
D’naad had expected some sort of reaction from at least one of the Ar’kaa Councilors, but nothing like this. Stunned by the sudden, lethal violence of the creature’s attack, the young ambassador momentarily froze before lunging to push the two vixens farther away from the carnage. That’s when he caught an unexpected movement out of the corner of his eye, movement on the Councilors’ dais where the attack had originated. Movement that caused him to pause and stare in additional shock.
Councilor D’oono, B’naah’s mate, was on his feet, his vulpine jaws locked tightly on the throat of the lapin Ar’kaa Councilor, and the two of them appeared to be struggling over possession of the Ar’kaa’s lethal staff of office. Security officers were hesitantly moving toward the site of the struggle, but it was obvious that long seconds would pass before they arrived. Also, they didn’t seem all too happy to be confronting a powerful plasma weapon with only their ceremonial wooden swords and tiny, symbolic fabric shields. The other Council members were scrambling away from the struggle, too, in obvious fear for their own lives.
There was another burst of white-hot plasma energy---
Two headless bodies broke their fatal embrace, falling away from each other as an ethereal bubble of darkly glittering energy quickly formed above them, then just as quickly decayed, like a soap bubble popping in slow-motion. Brief moments later it was gone.
The young ambassador suddenly heard a strong, familiar voice issuing from the tiny medallion he wore around his neck. “D’naad! Do exactly as I say, and don’t waste time! Acknowledge me!”
“Y-yes, I hear you!” he said.
“Throw this medallion onto the middle of the floor, then take B’naah’s medallion up to the Councilor’s dais and place it on what’s left of D’oono’s chest. Make certain that nobody stops you, and be sure you place the medallion as instructed. Move now!”
The young ambassador pulled the tiny medallion and chain over his head and flung it towards the center of the huge room. The sight of the ruined human near his feet made his legs wobble and almost made him vomit, but he knew there was more to do before he could give in to the horror of the situation. “B’naah!” he yelped, “give me---” But she was ahead of him, and had lifted her medallion over her head and thrust it toward his hands. He sprinted to the Councilors’ dais and, roughly brushing the security guards aside with snarls and curses, carefully placed it on the smoking lower chest of the Yularian Councilor’s headless corpse.
As soon as he stepped back the medallion gave out a loud whine, and an electric blue half-dome appeared over the remains of the Yularian. D’naad looked back toward the vixens and saw that a similar electric-blue half-dome was now covering the remains of the dead human’s head and upper torso. “Touch NOTHING!” he barked with unexpected intensity in the direction of the guards and nearby Councilors, then he sprinted back toward the two grief-stricken females.
Gathering them into a comforting embrace, he only said, “Stay strong. Something big is happening.”
From the medallion he’d tossed to the center of the room came an undulating rainbow beam of light that rose to the ceiling and seemed to spread like smoke. Seeming to emanate from the beam a loud voice, speaking in the Yularian tongue that all in the room understood, said, “Councilors, remain at your stations of office. You will not be harmed, but there are matters you must be made aware of before you may leave this room.” Reluctantly, the Councilors resumed their seats or cushions---all except those nearest the scene of carnage on the dais. Those unfortunates were happy to move down to the room’s floor in front of the dais, where they either sat or curled up on cushions quickly tossed down to them.
“The information many of you were examining on your data pads, which Ambassador Barnes was planning to explain, is, by necessity, incomplete. We knew there was a hostile entity responsible for the attempts on Barnes’ and his companions’ lives, but we weren’t totally sure where that entity was located.
Last Dance of the Phoenix Page 24
