‘I just want to say, about the whole “lying to you and dragging you halfway across the galaxy” thing earlier…’
‘It’s okay, Dex. You don’t have to explain. I already know.’
He held up a hand. ‘No, Bif—I do.’ He opened his mouth to speak, let it fall shut again. He shifted in his seat. ‘Man, I didn’t think it would be this hard…’
‘It’s okay, Dex. Really. I get it. You don’t have to explain.’
He took a steadying breath. ‘Bif—I forgive you.’
There was a moment where the words refused to process. I snapped my head around. ‘Wait, what? You forgive me?’
‘That’s right, Bif. I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s clear to me now that you running off and ditching me like that was a necessary speedbump in our evolution as a duo. Every buddy-comedy has its break-up moment. Really, it’s a good thing we got it out of the way so early. Now we can focus on just being the awesome pair of poon-hounds we are, am I right?’
I stared at him. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘BUT… YOU LIED. YOU LIED TO US.’
‘Um, no, I said there was an assassination plot on the Lord Chancellor’s life. And there is. Therefore, I was right, and you and Luna can both suck my ass.’
‘You didn’t know there was an assassination plot,’ said Luna, turning back.
‘Oh didn’t I, Luna? Seems pretty obvious to me my subconscious sniffed it out. Of course, I’m not surprised; when detectives such as myself reach a certain point in their career, we develop a kind of, how do you say, “extra perception”. Think of it like spider-sense, only way better. We know things. Honestly, I amaze even myself sometimes.’
Luna shook her head. ‘You incredible asshole.’
‘I knew you were going to say that…’
‘RIGHT, THAT’S IT—!’
I jumped between them before things could turn ugly. ‘Guys! Guys! Get it together! This is not the time for this. We have more important things to worry about.’
Dex folded his arms. ‘Luna started it.’
‘Enough. We need to think. The party’s in an hour, and we still have no idea exactly how it is Ruk and his buddies are planning on doing this thing.’ I turned to Henry. ‘You said you used to teach back at the academy, right? “Tactical engagement”? So—if it was you looking to make a pass on the Lord Chancellor’s life, how would you do it?’
Henry made a face as he thought it over. ‘Well, first thing I’d do is figure out the agenda for the party to get an idea of where everyone will be and when. Then I’d probably take a position somewhere close by, somewhere I could get a clean shot—because ain’t no way I’d be getting close enough to the guy to put a blade in his belly.’ He frowned. ‘But of course, that’s only because it’s me we’re talking about. I’m low tier. My movements are prohibited. Ruk, on the other hand? He’s CSEA. He can go wherever he wants.’
‘So what you’re saying essentially is that we’re no closer to figuring out where he and his buddies are going to be?’
He shrugged.
‘Damnit. Think; there must be something we can—’ I caught sudden sight of Dex sat beside me in the back. He was looking out the window, a look of pure mischief on his face. ‘Dex?’
‘Okay, now call me crazy,’ he said. ‘But I think I may have just gotten an idea…’
I followed his gaze through the window, saw what he was looking at.
‘Oh, no,’ I said. ‘No way. Are you serious?’
He turned back to me, eyes wild and staring.
He was.
Fifteen minutes later, and here we were, standing on a street corner just outside the Square, looking on as thousands of creatures both big and small, both tentacled and non-tentacled, fleeted hurriedly past. Quite a crowd had formed since last we were here, all no doubt hoping for a glimpse of the Lord Chancellor upon the time he finally decided to show himself. I couldn’t speak to their eagerness (what being a stranger, and all), but I got the feeling the guy was kind of a celebrity around here. Among the crowd, a single path had been cleared, down which little creatures—what Dex had called “O’pa”—were slowly making their way toward the front, singing songs in a low and strange dialect that sounded, to my ear, at least, uncannily like a gut-shot man’s final death-gargle. Above our heads, large, microwave-shaped machines glided slowly across the skyline like unsightly birds, an image of what I presumed to be the Lord Chancellor’s face staring back from their shiny, blinking fronts. It wasn’t until after gazing at them for a good five minutes however that it dawned on me what I was looking at were TVs. So even the TVs flew here, apparently. Of course they did.
‘I have a real bad feeling about this…’ said Luna.
Like the rest of us, she looked different to how she had fifteen minutes ago. In her left hand, leaning propped against her forearm, was an object comprised of what looked like solid brass, about three feet in length, with long tines running across its length that I guessed were supposed to be keys. If you’re thinking “keyboard” here, well—that’s only because you can’t see it. Just take my word for it, it looked nothing like a keyboard. In her other hand was a stick, a little ball on the end of it, not unlike a lollipop. A shawl made of what looked like alien flesh hung draped over her shoulders; an item that, judging by Luna’s facial expression, she was not too thrilled about.
So I guess here’s probably as good a time as any to inform you that we had taken a little detour before continuing on to our date with the Lord Chancellor. And by “detour”, I mean we had waited in the taxi while Dex had rushed drunkenly out of the cab, and in no subtle way, informed the traveling band waiting at the roadside hoping to be picked up that if they didn’t immediately give us everything they had—clothes included—he would systematically shoot off every one of their dick and balls. Now, I’m no expert, but seeing as how the things he was shouting at looked more or less like large, bipedal ants (all big eyes, segmented bodies—you get the idea), I thought it unlikely they’d be in possession of what a person might call your typical “dick and balls”. But then, maybe I’m wrong—again, I’m no expert. Sure seemed in a hurry to hand it over, though.
From beside her, Dex grunted. ‘Ha. Star Wars.’
‘I’m serious, Dex. Do you really think this plan of yours will work?’
‘Relax. This is a tried and true maneuver, Luna. Seriously, I’ve done it at least… three times now by my count. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.’
‘You’ve robbed a travelling band and worn their clothes as a disguise to get into a party where you know something sinister is going down three times?’ I said. ‘How is that even possible?’
He scoffed. ‘Right? It’s like they’re trying to get robbed, or something.’ He tilted the brim of his enormous hat. ‘But enough about all that. The Lord Chancellor should be making his appearance any minute. All we got to do is get to the front, warn him of the impending attack, find Ruk and shoot his junk off, and boom. It’s back to the tavern for more drinks. Luna’s buying.’
‘Why me?!’ said Luna.
‘Hey, you don’t want to pay, don’t doubt my genius. Seriously—consider this a learning experience, Luna.’ He thought it over. ‘Also, I’m out of credits. I think that two-headed chick must have robbed me or something…’
We settled in behind the O’pa, joining the line of what I guessed were musicians as we merged ourselves into what, I guessed, was a parade.
And then the long, slow march towards the citadel began.
I don’t want to make it sound like it was excruciatingly painful or anything, but in the interest of honesty I should probably tell you I have never been much of a performer. Even when the audience isn’t a stadium-sized gaggle of multi-limbed aliens, whenever I find myself in these situations I feel the pressure hit me harder than that one Queen song, whose name I can never remember, pressing down on me like the oppressive gaze from some judgemental god. Then comes the sweating, the shaking, all that crippling anxiety—and it was no
different now.
I could feel every pair of eyes on me as we marched along the Square, all from creatures seemingly from every sector of the galaxy, each staring at the small Earthling in the strange clothes with his little wind instrument-thing in his hands that I had still yet to bring myself to blow into, because—really—who knew where the hell this thing had been, how many weird and unusual orifices it may have desecrated. Dex, on the other hand, took it all in his stride, slapping the—what I guess you’d call “tambourine”—furiously against his palm, his thighs, his chest, and anywhere else he fancied as we followed the impish creatures towards the Lord Chancellor, and our destinies.
And he sang. I had never heard Dex sing before that point. It was startling. I don’t mean to make it sound like he was good—unless, that is, your criteria for “good” isn’t so much “talent” as it is “volume”, in which case—sure. He was great. Just trust me when I tell you, you have never heard The Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me Baby” until you’ve heard it screamed at you by an obnoxious, inebriated man-child. I still have nightmares about it. I’m pretty sure Luna does, too.
We had made our way through almost the entirety of The Human League’s back-catalogue by the time we finally began to see the steps to the citadel through the crowd. There were figures standing atop the steps, by my count around a dozen or more, most of which were clad in more of those CSEA uniforms—all except for one, that was, who I knew instinctively to be the Lord Chancellor (and not just because it had been his face staring back at me from the floating TVs for the past half hour).
He was a lot taller than I’d been expecting. At least seven feet tall, his thin, frail body hidden under a cloak that was all white cloth and gold trim, with some kind of fine, ornate patterning (also gold) running up its length, reminding me, for no reason I could think of, of ivy. There was a staff in his hand, long and slightly curved at the tip, the length of which was only outdone by the hat he wore, which, suffice it to say, was very big indeed. He could have been the pope. He was space pope.
And there, standing next to him with his hands clasped neatly in front of him, looking as little like an assassin as he could, was Ruk.
So Ruk and his team were part of the Lord Chancellor’s security detail for the event, apparently. I mean, I guessed I should have figured as much. But it was still a surprise.
The Lord Chancellor raised his hand, ushering silence from the crowd. ‘My dear citizens of Etaria, we come together once again on this fine day to celebrate the end of but another year in my long tenure as Lord Chancellor,’ he began, his big-lipped mouth flapping wildly away as he talked. ‘As always on this occasion, I encourage you all to enjoy yourselves. But remember—no law breaking. You will be caught, and you will be punished. That is the way of our people, the way it has always been. And today is no exception.’
The crowd watched in almost complete silence, enraptured by the sheer sight of him. Personally, I didn’t see what all the fuss was about.
The Lord Chancellor raised his staff. ‘Now go! Have fun! For today, we celebrate!’
The crowd cheered and whooped as the Lord Chancellor and his entourage quickly turned on the spot, began making their way back towards the citadel.
I grabbed Dex’s arm. ‘What do we do?!’
The citadel was a fortress, the only way in or out the huge stone doors that marked its entrance. We had to get in there before they closed and locked us out for good. Because one thing was for certain, we sure as heck weren’t kicking in the front door.
Dex, no doubt realizing the same, quickly turned back to me. He rubbed his impeccable chin. ‘Hmm. What we need is a distraction. Something to distract the guards while we slip inside.’
For a moment, I thought he was looking to me for direction; a thought I found suitably terrifying because—seriously—if he was looking to me for a means to save the day, we were all kinds of screwed.
But then Luna stepped forward.
‘I got this,’ she said.
Before Dex or I could so much as open our mouths, she threw up the shawl covering her torso, revealing the tight spandex bodysuit that lay beneath. She pulled at the collar, tearing a deep slit in the front almost down to her belly button, exposing what was a surprisingly ample cleavage. ‘Just go rescue the Chancellor, okay?’
She began to hobble her way over to the small cluster of folks standing guard in front of the doors.
She fell into their arms (or, as in one case, at least, “tentacles”), swooning like a damsel in an old romance movie. To this day, I have no idea what exactly was said. All I know is one moment they were all standing guard by the doors, looking mean and determined. The next they were all rushing to help the sobbing blue girl on the ground with her breasts halfway out, practically falling all over themselves as they sought to tend to whatever crisis was currently ailing her.
And staring at them, I knew one thing for absolute certain; regardless of whichever part of the galaxy you found yourself in, men would always be men. So that was reassuring.
Dex and I waited until they were out of sight, then immediately booked it for the doors, the two of us slipping through mere moments before they could shut and lock us out forever.
Earlier I had thought that the citadel’s outside was impressive. But of course, that was before I’d seen the inside.
Just a single long room, with walls made out of what looked like solid gold. Long glass fixtures ran down from the room’s equally gold ceiling, oddly phallic-shaped in design. At the far end, hidden somewhat by a stretch of statues I intuited immediately to be of Etaria’s many previous Lord Chancellors (though to be honest, the hats were a dead giveaway), was a doorway.
We headed for it at once, our footfalls echoing loudly until, just like that, we were standing in what appeared to be a large chamber.
Easily the size of a cathedral. More of those phallic-shaped fixtures hanging from the walls, which—surprise-surprise—were also gold. Sunlight filtered down through the open ceiling, illuminating the flat stone flooring and all the many tables that lay spread out atop it. I wondered what happened when it rained. What, did they all just get wet?
But that wasn’t all I saw.
People—or, you know, “not”, all spread around the chamber, many of whom were dressed in clothes not too dissimilar from the Lord Chancellor’s; what I took to be the other Council members Dex had mentioned while back on Steve. Probably a hundred, all in all. Most held glasses filled with some bright pinkish liquid as they engaged in conversation with other glass-bearing attendees. Backs were patted and appendages were shaken. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a room filled with such unabashed pompousness before—which wasn’t exactly saying a lot, true. But still.
Spotted around the room with them were more of the Enforcer dudes, each of their blasters clearly visible on their hip holsters.
Knowing time was of the essence, we ran for the Lord Chancellor at once, making our way through the crowd of people congratulating each other over how totally rich and powerful they were—
‘Halt!’
Dex and I froze, turning just in time to witness one of the Enforcer dudes approaching at haste.
It was some older guy. Great grizzly white beard covering his mandibles. A set of antennae sticking out of his skull, the dainty appendages wiggling furiously as he walked.
He looked us over. ‘State your business.’
‘We’re, uh, with the band,’ said Dex.
‘The band?’
‘That’s right. We’re here to blow your shnorkin’ socks off. And we’re already running late, so if you don’t mind—’ He tried to step past him, but the guy held up a claw.
‘Nobody told me about any band performing,’ he said. He leaned in closer. ‘And is that booze I smell?’
‘Well…’
‘Right, that’s it. You two are coming with me.’
‘Eh, I don’t think so.’ With a flash of fabric, Dex flipped the guy onto his back, causing several of t
he creatures standing closest us to gasp in surprise at the sudden break in decorum.
He turned back to me. ‘Run, Bif!’
Without allowing me so much as a second to gather my thoughts, he grabbed me by the collar and began roughly dragging me towards the back of the room, where a series of raised (and needless to say, gold) chairs lay in a rough semicircle. Sitting atop them were several more Council members, along with the Lord Chancellor himself, who was sat in the middle (not to mention biggest) chair, a look on his face like he was in the process of enjoying a good joke.
‘Lord Chancellor!’ cried Dex. ‘Lord Chancellor, you have to—!’
Something big and furry took him off his feet.
It tackled him to the ground, then proceeded to sit on top of him as he writhed and squirmed underneath its enormous body.
Dex groaned. ‘Get off—dick! I have to warn the Lord Chancellor!’
‘DO NOT RESIST!’ the hulking Enforcer bellowed.
Moments later he was met by another Enforcer, and then another, the three of them quickly scooping Dex up before proceeding to escort him out of the room, me following closely behind with my hands raised as high as I could get them, because to not do so at that moment seemed like an awfully good way to get shot.
We were halfway to the doors when a voice called out from behind us.
‘What is the meaning of this?!’
We all turned toward the voice, surprised to find the Lord Chancellor now standing behind us.
He was even more gaunt-looking up close. Face all ashen and pale. A series of small growths lined his forehead, beneath which a pair of shrewd eyes lay, hidden somewhat by his bulging brow.
‘Lord Chancellor!’ said Dex. ‘We’ve come to warn you!’
‘Warn me?’
‘We have reason to believe there’s going to be an attempt on your life.’
Dex Wexler: Space Detective (Chronicles of Bif Book 1) Page 11
