Dale Mettam

by The Pub at the Center of the Universe (retail) (epub)

  “You think?” said Kirk incredulously. “I think that after being ripped away from my home, being blown up and having my atoms sent through space at speeds that experts on my planet think are impossible, being held hostage by giant bugs...”

  “There are a great many races in the universe that have the appearance of what you refer to as bugs.”

  “I’ve been told, but I promise you, that it is no small comfort when you look at a six-foot cockroach and it talks to you! I’ve also been sucked down a wormhole collasping only feet behind me and now, having moved into the Shady Boughs apartment complex for retired fascists, my second house warming gift is a dead body with a gaseous sphere sitting in a hole where his heart used to be... and you want me to consider the reputation of the agency that shanghaied me?”

  “Is there a problem with that?”

  Kirk stifled a cry of desperation and glared out of the window.

  “If it’s any consolation, in addition to the great honor of being accepted as a member of the Universal Securitat, very few people have ever been invited to Destinati. It’s usually reserved for only the very highest dignitaries of the universe.”

  “Well I wasn’t invited was I,” Kirk snared. “I was kidnapped.”

  “I prefer to think that we commandeered you, but time was, as is, a very real factor. While we have not been told why the Y’lem wish to see you, we were told that there was only a limited amount of time in which we could get you there before it would all be a waste of time. That clock is still running.”

  Kirk didn’t respond.

  “Would it really have made a difference if we has told you the truth?” Chief Boh Yah Di asked.

  “It might have,” said Kirk petulantly.

  “Really?” the Chief asked. “You would not have thought that Agent Pillah was crazy? You would have taken her at face value and gone along?”

  Kirk didn’t reply again. He knew that he wouldn’t have believed half the things he’d seen and actually experienced, if someone had told him these things were really out there in the universe. But he didn’t want to concede that now. He glanced at the Chief and saw in his expression that he didn’t need to admit anything. His new boss knew exactly what he was thinking.

  “This is a very important mission, Kirk. If you consider that the Y’lem have the power to create a universe and everything therein, when they ask for help, it must be something very important.”

  “I thought you said that you didn’t know why they wanted me.”

  “I don’t. All I was told was that the Y’lem had requested that we track down and bring to Destinati the one being in the universe that could help them at this very moment. That being was you. You can have anything you want from me and my agency, anything that you deem necessary to successfully complete you mission. I have an Agency Combat Shuttle primed and waiting for you at the port and I have several dossiers of agents that are at your disposal for this mission. Make no mistake, you are the key to a very serious problem and it seems there are certain powers that not only know of your existence, but know of your mission, and do not want you to succeed.”

  The chief passed over a small palm-sized monitor and several small images appeared. Each was an agent with varied specialized skills and years of experience. Kirk began to read through them.

  Chief Boh Yah Di now turned his attention to Lu, still staring intently out the window.

  “When we have seen Agent Deighton safely on his way from the spaceport, I will arrange for you to be taken home to begin you leave. You have done a first-class job, Special Agent. I will be adding a letter of commendation to your file.”

  “I won’t be taking that leave, sir,” said Lu.

  “You will, Agent Pillah. You’ve earned it. After you get some rest we can discuss what caseloads you will take on next.” There was authority in the Chiefs voice, but it seemed tempered with compassion.

  “I’m going after her, sir,” Lu said, her voice heavy and ominous.

  “Don’t force me to make this an order, Lu.”

  “If you make it an order, you’ll have my letter of resignation in the morning.”

  “Be reasonable, Lu,” said the Chief.

  “I’m going after her, with or without the belt. You decide which it is,” Lu said.

  Once again, an uneasy silence descended on the three.

  Finally Kirk snapped the monitor closed and looked at Chief Boh Yah Di.

  “OK, I’ve made my selection,” he said.

  “Very well, as I said, you have the entire agency at your disposal. Don’t feel you are limited to just one of those agents I showed you, if you feel it is required, you can take as many as you need.”

  “I just need one,” Kirk said. “And she’s sitting opposite me right now.”

  “No!” snapped the Chief.

  “You told me the entire agency was at my disposal. Anything I wanted, you said.”

  “But I didn’t mean Agent Pillah,” the Chief said.

  “You said anything I needed. I need her.”

  “But...”

  “But nothing. I’ve seen her in action, and since we both know that she’s going after this Restive Pro, and Pro is after me, the last thing I need is to get caught in the crossfire. If I take Lu, not only do I have someone besides me who I know will watch my back like no-one else can, I’ll also know where she is when the shooting starts. Plus, there are likely to be several doors that are closed to me that I believe Lu has a certain knack of opening.”

  In spite of herself, Lu gave Kirk a small smile.

  “There is nothing I can say that will change your mind?” Chief Boh Yah Di asked, his tone revealing his resignation to having been outmaneuvered.

  “Nope,” Kirk said. “So what’s next?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I guess I’ll go home,” said North Rubik.

  “We might need to get some more information from you. Is that your home planet?” asked Agent Skwair.

  “No, I meant Titan spaceport. I don’t know if I’ll have a job to go back to now, but I think I should go back and let them know what happened to Chief Skake.”

  Agent Skwair nodded that she understood and began to collect herself to move on to the next stage of her investigation.

  “Is that it?” Rubik asked. “I mean, will you need me anymore?”

  Agent Skwair stood and straightened the creases in her pants, then adjusted the position of the F.R.B on her belt.

  “Well, if you’re heading back to Titan spaceport and we have any further questions, one of our local field agents can contact you,” she said. “I don’t think you’re in any danger. We have a pretty good idea who the real target was. It seems you and your Chief were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Rubik stood and looked around the courtyard.

  Everyone seemed to have a clear purpose here now, everyone but him, and the old man over in the corner wearing the faded orange robes who seemed to be paying him an undue amount of attention.

  “Oh,” said Agent Skwair, who seemed to have finished with him and had begun to slowly walk away, while lighting a small purple cigarillo. “Just one more thing.”

  North Rubik turned to her, as she in turn swung around to face him. “Yes?”

  “We had a report that there were two shots fired here tonight, but only your Chief appears to have been hit, and there is no sign of any other damage that would indicate a second shot.”

  “That’s strange,” said Rubik, carefully studying the Special Agent’s face.

  “Yes. That is strange isn’t it.” She smiled through a cloud of yellow smoke. “You have any ideas, or theories about that strange report?”

  Rubik looked around the courtyard again, then up at the rooftops and beyond to the mighty tree trunks the city was b
uilt around. He noticed the old man was gone now.

  “Maybe you witness was mistaken?” he said. “Or perhaps, and I’m no expert here, but perhaps your witness heard the original shot that killed Chief Skake, and the shot echoed around the courtyard here, and that was what they thought was the second shot.

  Agent Skwair studied the young security guard and considered the options. She had been with the Universal Securitat long enough to see a lot of things. Given the statement she just heard, she would not be surprised if this rookie hadn’t killed his own chief. Though she did not think that if this was really the case, in his position, she herself might have done it a long time before now. It was possible that the shots had been fired by the rookie, the first shot had missed wildly and second nailed his boss. It could have been a crime of opportunity.

  Maybe an assassin had fired down into the courtyard, missed wildly, as it would have to be some sharpshooter to make that kind of shot with a modified PRR, and the rookie here saw a chance to nail his chief.

  One thing she was certain about, and she would have bet her pension on this, the kid was not telling her the whole truth. She had seen enough big, really good liars, to not know an amateur when she saw one. But her gut told her that this was no killer. That feeling, and a pretty clear indication that Restive Pro was close by.

  “Echo, huh?”

  “I’m no expert,” said Rubik. “But I have done some reading.”

  Agent Skwair nodded to herself again.

  “Echo,” she repeated, more to herself than to him.

  North Rubik shrugged his shoulders.

  “Okay,” the special agent finally said. “Just let us know if you have any plans to go anywhere else besides Titan. We might have more questions when we know more.”

  “Anything I can do to help,” Rubik said. “That’s two of my colleagues who have been killed.”

  Agent Skwair didn’t reply and took a long drag on her cigarillo before letting out a long stream of smoke. Something didn’t feel right about this.

  She began to walk over to the apartment where the body was found and, with a casual sweep of her eyes, quickly studied the courtyard again as she walked. The old man who had been so interested in the kid was gone now, but she was sure he had been watching her interview. It could be nothing, but she would include it in her report anyway.

  Once he was safely away from the Shady Boughs apartment complex, North Rubik looked around making sure he wasn’t followed, then ducked down a dimly lit alleyway. About halfway down the alleyway, he noticed a portable toilet, and thought this might make an excellent place for what he needed, but on trying the door, found it locked.

  He gently knocked, but there was no answer.

  He knocked again, more forcefully.

  “Hello?” he called. “Anyone in there?”

  There was only silence as a response. The thing must be broken. Faulty door lock or something. He looked back out to the street, but there was very little traffic down there to disturb him. Nonetheless he quietly slipped around the back of the portable toilet so it hid him completely from the street beyond.

  Moments late a definite crack sounded from behind the portable toilet, followed by a steady hiss.

  “Are you alright?” Rubik asked. “We were worried.”

  A moment more and he appeared again, quickly checked that the alley was still deserted, then headed back to the street.

  As Rubik turned the corner and disappeared from view, there was a muffled, “Hello?” from inside the portable toilet.

  The door rattled, as if the person inside were having some difficulty opening it, before it gave a giant shudder and burst open, sending the Professor falling out with a loud clang and followed by a shower of deep blue chemicals.

  “I could have sworn I heard someone knock,” he said as he dusted himself down and looked around the now empty alley. As his eyes fell on the pile of clear shards that lay behind the toilet, a slow smile crossed the Professor’s face.

  “Ah, Mr. Rubik was here. Not quite ready to head home just yet though, I fear.”

  The Professor chuckled to himself and nudged the translucent fragments with the toe of his shoe. Suddenly, there was a loud throbbing sound, and the professor snapped his attention back to the portable toilet and glared inside.

  “Irdak! How many times have I told you not to play with the controls? Now press that red button and step away from the console.”

  The door of the portable toilet slammed closed.

  “Not that one!” said the Professor to the now closed door. “I said the red one. The door control is obviously a deep magenta! Just press the deep magenta one again and let me in.”

  The throbbing grew louder and the portable toilet began to fade out of view, then snap back. The Professor leapt forward and tried to hammer on the door, but it was no longer solid.

  “Irdak! IRDAK! Press the cerise button The CERISE BUTTON!”

  But it was too late. The portable toilet had disappeared completely.

  The Professor made a futile kick at the garbage that strewn across the alley and thrust his hands in his pockets.

  “Bugger”

  Slowly he withdrew a hand, in which he held a crumpled paper bag. He suspiciously opened it and looked inside. His expression changed to pure delight as he stuffed his fingers into the bag and took out a lint-covered licorice Allsort, blew the lint off, and popped the candy into his mouth.

  “There’s no wonder that boy will come to such a tragic end. Probably not such a bad thing that Irdak’s gene pool ends with him,” mused the Professor as he set off walking towards the street.

  It was almost dawn before the local officers and the Universal Securitat agents packed up and moved out of the Shady Boughs courtyard. It was another two hours before Lawando thought it safe to send in her report.

  “Lexx,” she addressed her F.R.B “Contact Number One, I need to make a report. Take the usual encoding precautions, and as ever, record a copy for my personal files.”

  “Yes, Lawando,” her F.R.B. replied in a deep, husky female voice.

  Lawando paced her lounge as she waited for the connection. She had no idea what had gone wrong, but she knew that what happened was not according to plan. Not that she was privy to the plan, but this was worrying. She couldn’t be sure, but she had a pretty good idea that the attempt to kill her new neighbor was committed by restive Pro. Pro had a reputation for ruthless efficiency, and the fact that she had apparently failed to deliver was a worry to Lawando.

  Lawando spied for the highest bidder, and for several years that had been the Prions, who were, until recently, very happy with the reports she fed to them, and the operations she initiated on their behalf. Until the order came in a week ago to ensure that two travelers emerging from a Hyper- Luminal chamber were killed.

  She hired three thugs she had worked with a couple of times before, but their had been a problem. The arrival chamber did not receive anyone when it was supposed to, and when it did activate, the salesman the thugs incinerated was obviously not the desired target.

  She reported her failure to Number One, and also reported that she’d ensured there was no chance of this job getting any worse, as she had taken care of the three agents employed to do the killing.

  A warm flush spread through her, and she could not help but smile to herself at the memory of their individual dispatching. All three proved to be very satisfying, and she never ceased to marvel that, even knowing the reputation her species had, as far as post-conjugal activities, they all thought they would prove to be immune. It was sad really. A delusion. She could no more help what came afterwards, as most other species could not avoid rolling over and going asleep.

  The connection cracked, and a distorted voice chimed in. “This is Number One, report.”

  “Your latest attempt failed
. They are both still alive, and are under close guard.”

  “Understood.”

  There was a distinct tome of disappointment, mingled with what Lawando suspected was anger and concern in equal parts.

  “I have my network attempting to determine their proposed location, and as soon as I have it, I will report.”

  “Understood.”

  “I could attempt to initiate again, if you would like?”

  “That will not be necessary.” The voice sounded strained. “The person commissioned to fulfill that role will not fail again. Number One, out.”

  The connection was terminated.

  Lawando sank into a soft, overstuffed chair and thought about what she knew and what she suspected. She knew that the Prions wanted the strange guy downstairs dead. She suspected that they had hired Restive Pro to make that happen. She knew the assassin had failed. She suspected that the Prions would not be happy about that. She suspected they might try and remove the commissioned assassin from the contract, and if it was Restive Pro, wrestling a Kenturkee Chicken in mating season, naked, would be better for their health.

  She also suspected that the new neighbor was possibly very good a what he did, to not be dead already. All this left her with one definite thought.

  A vacation, somewhere a long way away, would probably be exceptionally good for her health right now. To be caught anywhere near one of those parties could be dangerous, to be caught between two of them could be deadly. She didn’t even want to consider what would happen if they were all together in the same place.

  She began to pack.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Lord High Minister sat alone in the cell. Well, not alone in the strictest sense of the word, but he no longer even considered the Y’lem to be a person. Having lost the power to alter his shape, the gelatinous blob was now over half green. He considered the report he just heard from his agent on Sevres Prime.

  As Lord High Minister, he was also Spy Master of the Prion Empire. Lawando was one of his best. Her information was always accurate, and usually, anything that she initiated on their behalf was done with discretion and efficiency. She drove him almost insane with lust, which also assured her near permanent position within the Prime Minister’s mind. He often toyed with the idea of exploring that side of their relationship. After all, setting aside the reputation of her species, she would make an excellent partner for him, and given his own immense qualities, certainly he would never fall victim to her post-conjugal passions.