by Logan Jacobs
I opened the cylinder, and there was a small rolled-up piece of paper in it with handwriting that I instantly recognized.
Marc,
Meet me at Opposer Alley.
It’s important.
Fallon
“Well,” I said as I crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash, “now I’m curious about a cat and hopefully it won't get me killed.”
Chapter Eight
Nova and I walked down the long trash-strewn alley that led to the spot Fallon had mentioned in her note. A few weeks ago, while running from an ambush set up by a rat-bastard mob boss by the name of Irrus, who was actually a four and a half foot tall talking rat, Fallon and I had found ourselves in this alley with several members of a rival gang between us and safety. That night had started with Nova and I leaving the Into the Breach Tavern and getting set upon by Irrus’ hired goons, so I figured it was a nice bookend for her to be the one to accompany me to see what Fallon wanted.
We’d dressed fairly casual but still ready for action if anything should happen. I was pretty sure I trusted Fallon implicitly, but I had a long list of other people who wanted to shiv me in a back alley and might follow me around the city. The Forge of Heroes was big business and had also spawned a robust underworld around it. Fallon was on the level but I didn’t trust any of the other gangs associated with the Council of Nine No Ones as far as I could throw any of them.
Nova and I both had handguns concealed in sleek shoulder rigs under the loose fitting jackets we wore. I’d chosen a Beretta Px4 Storm Subcompact in nine millimeters loaded with fourteen high explosive rounds. Nova had a slimline Grayhool Acer Particle Gun that looked like a Colt 1911A1 but shot a short beam of neutrons that could slice through a two-inch steel plate. One full charge was good for twenty shots, and she had three backup charges in the pockets of her jacket. If trouble did rear its ugly head, we were gonna blow it clean off.
“This still fills my insides with unease, Marc,” Nova said to me as we walked down the alley. “I know Fallon helped us tremendously, but as we’ve seen, power corrupts. We don’t know if moving into Irrus’ seat on the Council has changed her any.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I shrugged. Fallon and I had gotten to know each other in the biblical sense as well as sharing some personal moments, and she never struck me as the type to let power go to her head. “Which is why we have the heaters, but I don’t think so, Nova.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I saw a light up ahead, and we emerged into the street where Fallon and I had taken out some members of a gang called the Opposers. They looked like futuristic versions of the Baseball Furies from Warriors, complete with clubs that resembled baseball bats. The street Nova and I walked out into was very different from the one I recalled from a few weeks ago.
The first time I was here it looked like a slum from a depression era New York movie with rundown brownstones, boarded-up storefronts, and inhabitants who barely got by. It was never dirty, the people who lived in this neighborhood took pride in keeping things as tidy as they could and finding ways to bring a little brightness to their poor conditions, but it was still a working-class poor part of town.
Now, however, the buildings all seemed to have had a facelift and several of the once boarded-up storefronts now housed bustling bodegas, mom and pop shops, or thrift stores. All sorts of aliens walked the streets, most with kids at their sides, as they shopped or walked to and from work. The cacophony of a busy city street filled my ears as we walked across the street.
Leaning against a light post, her hands crossed lightly at her chest, and looking at us with a big grin was Fallon. She was a five foot nine inch tall, tawny brown with grey tiger stripes cat alien who was also smoking hot. She had on a pair of loose-fitting cargo type pants and a black half shirt, kinda like Kim Possible. Her prehensile tail swished back and forth lazily behind her as she soaked up the mid-day moonlight that was as bright as any sun.
When we got closer, she pushed herself off the lamp post and sauntered out to meet us at the curb. Her movements were smooth and almost lazy just like… well, just like a cat.
“And the prodigal champion returns,” Fallon purred and gave me a hug. Her fine velvet-smooth fur tickled the side of my neck as she did and thoughts of the night we spent together slunk into my brain like a stealthy feline. I had to push them away consciously so that I didn’t pop a chubby in the middle of the street.
“I’m like a bad penny,” I quipped with as much cocksure scoundrel as I could muster.
“It’s good to see you, Marc,” she said quietly as she let her guard drop just a bit. “You as well, Nova. I hope you have all been well.”
“We have been,” Nova responded. She was still stiff and a bit formal, but her own armor had lowered some as well. “Thank you.”
“Looks like things are going well,” I said as I gestured with my hand to the busy street.
“They are,” Fallon said proudly. “That’s part of the reason why I asked to see you. And I’m glad you brought Nova with you. It concerns your whole alliance.”
“Oh?” I uttered quizzically.
“Yes,” Fallon answered and then got that mischievous look on her face that signaled that she wanted to play cat and mouse for a bit. “But we’ll talk about that in a little bit. Come on, I’ll show you around the neighborhood.”
Fallon turned, and we followed her down the next block that was even busier than the first.
“Wow,” I said as I looked around. The difference was night and day from the last time I’d been there. “Everyone looks… happy.”
“I’m glad that is the first thing you noticed, Marc,” Fallon said and looked at me with unexpected affection. “Most people I’ve shown around talk about the buildings and how clean everything is. You’re the first person to actually mention the people who live here. Who, when all is said and done, are my main concern.”
“I know they are, Fallon,” I replied.
“Buildings are buildings,” Nova said as she gazed around. “It takes those who live in them to make them homes. And I see a lot of homes.”
Fallon couldn't help the deep purr that rumbled in her chest, and I thought I saw the brief glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eye before she looked away.
“I’ve worked very hard to make sure that there are jobs here,” She continued after a few moments. “And with an influx of money, there is an emerging neighborhood economy. It’s not Blue Sky by any means, but there is food on the table and shoes on feet.”
She stopped at a little food cart that had various multi-colored fruit on display. She smiled at the proprietor, an older cat gentleman with long, white whiskers who gave her a small hug and shook her hand vigorously. She spoke a few words to him that I couldn’t quite make out because a delivery van rumbled down the street. The old cat gentleman picked up a handful of the fruit and tossed it into a large aluminum blender device with a big scoop of crystal clear ice. He pressed a button, and the thing whirred to life. A second later he turned it off after the outside had condensed over with frost. He then poured the smooth, frozen contents into three small paper cups with straws and spoons and handed them over to Fallon.
“Thank you, Nicodemus,” she said and handed him a rather large credit chip.
“Oh, it’s on me, Ms. Fallon,” Nicodemus said and shook his head.
“Thank you,” she said and continued to hold out the chip, “for your grandchildren then.”
The old cat begrudgingly took the chip and put it in his worn but clean and pressed apron. He nodded his head in appreciation. Fallon nodded back and then handed Nova and I each a cup.
I took a big sip and it was like a delicious smoothie. Cold, fruity, bright and very cold.
“Oww,” I muttered as I held a hand to my head. “Brain freeze.”
Fallon and Nova giggled at me as they took much smaller sips of their smoothies.
We continued to walk down the street, and I could tell we were on our way to Fallon’s ho
use. Aliens of all sorts, but mostly those that resembled rats and cats, waved to Fallon or called out greetings as we walked along. The overwhelming sense of community flooded over me as we made our way through the neighborhood, and it made me smile.
“Fallon,” I said as I scooped up the last of my smoothie with the little spoon and popped it into my mouth before tossing the empty cup into a trash can, “I think that what you’ve done here is truly amazing. Seems like everyone feels safe.”
“Good,” She said and looked around as if appraising her own hard work. “That is what I want for the people who have put their trust in me. I want the children here to grow up without the fear of their family being hurt or murdered either because someone else doesn’t have enough to eat or wants power for power’s sake.”
“Isn’t that what we all want?” Nova said wistfully as she looked around as well. “In the end, really. I know that is what I fight for every time I enter the arena.”
Fallon nodded. I kept my mouth shut for once and just let them have the moment of connection. And, Nova wasn’t wrong. Sure, I loved being the dashing daring-do champion of Earth who slew the bad guys and won cool shit for my planet. But, that wouldn’t have been enough to keep me alive for as long as I’d managed to. Deep down, I wanted a better life for people on Earth. Wars, famine, political bickering, it had all kept us from being nice to each other for as long as it seemed like humans had drawn breath. If my victories could help us overcome that, well, that would be pretty fucking cool. Plus, you know, the hot chicks didn’t suck either.
Finally, we arrived at the small three-flat brownstone that I recognized as Fallon’s. The exterior the last time I was here had been completely run down, with trash in the yard, shingles missing from the roof, and boarded-up windows. She had told me it was so that she wouldn’t be bothered when she came home, in the rare moments she did get to come home. But now, like the rest of the block, it had gotten a considerable face-lift. The windows all had new glass, the roof was fixed, and the little lawn out front was clear of trash and had hints of green grass.
“Guess you’re not worried about being bothered anymore,” I said to her as we walked up to her front door.
“Ha, no, not so much anymore,” Fallon chuckled. “Everyone knows where I live, and I am fine with that. Plus, I have a heck of a security system.”
“Hello, Champion Havak,” a voice said from right beside me on the porch.
“Gah!” I spun and found myself nose to nose with Baba-Tadao who couldn’t help himself from letting out a little laugh at my surprise. The four-foot tall bipedal rat was perched carefully on the porch railing where a second ago there had been nothing but thin air. “Well, now I know where Fallon learned that little trick. Hello, Baba-Tadao, it’s good to see you.”
The rat-ninja continued to chuckle to himself as he hopped down and landed as light as a feather. He gave a nod to Fallon and then extended his hand to Nova.
“It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Champion Qwark,” he said reverently and with great respect.
“The pleasure is mine,” Nova said as she took his hand and shook it. “I heard of how you helped us last time. I am in your debt.”
“While it did indeed work out,” Baba said and shook his head ever so slightly, “had I been but a bit quicker you and your friends would not have had to endure the indignity of Irrus’ inhospitality. Alas, these old bones are not as swift and fleet as they used to be.
“They seemed pretty fleet to me,” I remarked as I looked over the porch rail to see where he could have been hiding. All I saw was the brick of the brownstone that went up three stories and the concrete slab that the whole building sat on. No places for anyone to hide. Confounded rat-ninja!
“Anything out of the ordinary, Baba?” Fallon asked as she placed her hand on a scanner panel that had slid out of the door frame. A pale red light bar moved slowly up and down the length of her hand and then turned green.
“No, Fallon,” Baba replied. “It has been a pleasantly quiet day so far.”
“Hopefully it will stay that way,” Fallon nodded and turned the knob on the door. “But I doubt it.”
“Ah, little one,” Baba said affectionately, “always missing the calm for fear of the storm. The storm is always out there, that you know for sure. It is the calm that we must learn to enjoy.”
“I know, Baba,” she replied with a knowing grin, “I will try.”
“Do or do not, Fallon,” he said. I whipped my head around to look at the little guy who’s just said one of my favorite movie lines of all time but as per usual, he was gone already.
“Son of a bitch!” I exclaimed. “How the hell do you guys do that?”
“Trade secret,” Fallon answered. “I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”
Nova stiffened at that but Fallon held up her hands in mock surrender.
“Joking,” she said to Nova. “Just a joke. Although I seriously can’t tell you how it’s done.”
We followed Fallon inside. While her basement, which is where we had gone last time, was decked out in Bedouin Bazaar in Space style, her main living area on the first floor was very much the interior of a nineteen-thirties era brownstone. Dark brown hardwood floors gleamed with fresh wax under several Oriental rugs. Molding of the same wood accented around the ceiling and floor, and there was wainscoting in the dining room and a small parlor where we were just off the main foyer. Stained glass light fixtures provided a soft glow that gave the entire inside an almost sepia hue.
Fallon led us into the parlor and motioned for us to sit on a plush, navy blue crushed velvet couch. She went immediately over to a mahogany, at least I assumed it was mahogany or its alien equivalent, bookshelf that took up an entire wall and pulled down a cut crystal decanter and three glasses. She set them down on a small end table in between two maroon leather chairs and poured three fingers of the amber liquid into the glasses. Fallon handed Nova and I each a glass, took one for herself, and then sat in a chair opposite us. She held her glass up from the bottom in front of her face so that the light refracted through the liquid like amber fire.
“To the Crucible,” she said and took a long pull. Nova and I held our glasses in the same fashion.
“To the Crucible,” I replied.
“To the Crucible,” Nova echoed, and we drank as well. The liquor was icy cold and biting as it hit my tongue but then slowly warmed like a blanket on a cold day as it spread to my stomach. A pleasant buzz spread through my body as I shifted the glass into a more comfortable grip and sat back into the very cozy couch.
“Okay, so,” I started, “now that we’ve had the nickel tour, what did you need to talk to us about, Fallon?”
She laughed quietly, and it sounded like a purr from deep in her chest. “Direct as always, I see.”
“It is one of his better traits,” Nova said and shot me a little wink.
“First, I want to say congratulations on moving up to Silver Tier,” Fallon stated.
“Thank you, and number two?” I asked and let the question hang in the air for a moment.
“As I’m sure you’ve discovered, moving up a tier is a precarious and vulnerable time for any champion or alliance,” she continued. She was being uncharacteristically careful with her words and appeared to be just as wary of us as we were of her at the moment. From the little wrinkles around her eyes, I could tell that whatever she wanted to say had been weighing on her for a bit. “I would like to formally offer my sponsorship to Team Havak.”
Nova and I looked at each other. I cocked an eyebrow at her as if to say ‘what do you think?’ She thought for a second and then gave me a slight ‘why the hell not’ shrug.
“Okay,” I said as I leaned forward in the couch and took another sip. “I know you helped me, us, out before and I’m still grateful for that. I’m not sure I’d be here if it hadn’t been for the boosts you gave me in that first match. But, you had a motive then. Topple Irrus. Why continue to help us?”
“Why Marc Havak,” Fallon responded a little surprised but also more than a bit impressed, “you never cease to amaze me. Decisive in the arena and shrewd outside. The truth of the matter is, I owe you, Marc. Without you, and your alliance mates help, I never would have been able to supplant Irrus. I’d been waiting years for him to show weakness. I was more than pleasantly surprised when that weakness turned out to be you.”
“I do have a gift,” I interjected.
“Mmm, that you do,” she purred seductively, “and you excel at pissing people off.”
Nova snickered beside me, and I shot her a glance.
“What?” She shrugged. “You do.”
“You’ve seen what I have been able to do for this community since taking over Irrus’ seat on the Council of Nine No Ones,” Fallon continued. “And I want to continue to do so. Irrus had squandered a lot of the gang's resources in his quest to bring you down. That combined with losing half of our members after I took over means that I had and continue to have a lot of rebuilding to do. Becoming your sponsor will help me to not only raise funds but is also an excellent way to recruit. So, it is mutually beneficial. Plus, I like having you, and your gifts, around.”
“I plan on both of us being around for a long time,” I shot back confidently. “Team Havak accepts your sponsorship.”
“Wonderful,” she declared and downed the last of her drink. “My first gift as your new sponsor is to tell you that the next match will be held on a jungle planet, and there will be no firearms. You all should adjust your training accordingly.”
“How do you know that?” Nova asked suspiciously.
“Little birdies tell me things,” Fallon answered slyly. “I have a few friends in central programming that like to frequent a cat house I operate. Loose lips win arena matches.”
I knew there was a double entendre in there somewhere but decided to let it lie. Nova and I polished off our own drinks and stood. I reached out my hand and Fallon took it immediately.
