Alien Manifesto Read online

Page 5


  “I have several varieties. How hot do you want them?” he asked.

  “The hotter the better,” I replied. This was the code to have Snarth contact the feline master at once.

  “I don’t have any here but I do have some in stores on my ship. Return here tomorrow and I will have them for you,” was the Irishman’s reply.

  My answer would indicate how urgently Snarth needed to contact us. “Tomorrow morning will be fine,” I answered, conveying that we needed instruction from Snarth on how to proceed.

  “Until the morning then, kind sir,” said the Irishman with a nod, answering that he would have instructions for us in the morning.

  With a courteous nod in reply, I left the shop and wandered around the market waiting for the temple spy to give itself away. I did not have to wait long. It was a female baboon-like creature and she was obvious in her pursuit. I turned a corner to circle around behind her only to find the feline master waiting for me, patiently.

  “I see you have spotted your tail, Human Tom,” she mewed, purring at her own joke, as I have no tail. This was a source of constant amusement to her.

  I grinned and added, “And the one following her, master.”

  “Well done. Now question her accomplice,” commanded the feline master.

  “Master?” I questioned, confused.

  “We must give a show of skill or else our adversaries will multiply, endangering the mission even further. Use what I have taught you and capture and question her accomplices. It is a test of skill by the leader,” explained the feline master.

  “Yes master,” I answered.

  At last, I would have a chance to try out my gifts from Snarth. I ducked into a public fresher and activated the bracelet. Once cloaked, I waited in ambush on the roof of the single story building across the alley from the public fresher. I waited, watching as the second spy approached the fresher that I had ducked into.

  The second spy, another ferret, somehow managed to dodge the first flying front kick I threw as I jumped off the roof, saving him a broken jaw. But not the second spinning back kick to the head as I spun around after landing on the ground in front of my opponent. As he rolled to his feet he tried to draw his sword, I decloaked, blaster drawn. He froze, knowing I could kill him and legally so. He was following me for seemingly nefarious purposes, robbery among them.

  “Who are you?” I barked in galactic standard so he would understand me.

  “Maalox sent me to follow you,” he answered in kind. With the flourish that I had learned from Snarth, I holstered my blaster.

  “Tell Maalox that if he wants to see me he should come himself. Next time I won’t hold back and you might get yourself killed, by accident of course.”

  “Of course,” answered the second spy, nodding in deference as he turned to leave, and I let him go.

  Sensing the master’s presence behind me, I asked aloud, “How was that Master?”

  “Clumsy, but sufficient for a human,” she answered as she decloaked behind me. “Now he will report to the leader that he was foiled by a mere student. You bring honor to my reputation Human Tom.”

  “Thank you Master, I do try,” I said head bowed.

  The feline master answered with her typical haughtiness, “You still have much to learn; but enough training for one day. The canine has another match tonight. We must attend as backup. We will continue as planned until we hear differently from Snarth,” she mewed. “We will practice that kick tomorrow, your aim is still off. Maybe if we practice it enough you won’t miss next time. Next time you might not be so lucky and your prey so unskilled,” she growled over her shoulder as she headed back toward the temple.

  That night at the canine master’s fight, he entered the ring to a packed arena with the crowd chanting his fight name, Rowl. As he pranced around the ring, arms waving above his head, his opponent entered the ring.

  It was a feline, massively scarred and missing one ear. I felt the feline master stiffen beside me. “A disgraced master,” she hissed. “He could have his hands full if that is who I think it is. I have heard he makes his living by prize fighting now that he has been disgraced. I knew him when I was a young cub. He was a formidable and respected master then. But now he is old and weak, the canine should have no trouble beating him.” She mewed confidently: “After all, my father trained him.”

  At the sound of the bell, the match began. The canine master warily circled the disgraced feline master who remained as still as stone, poised in a classic fighting stance. Seconds turned to minutes and still the canine master circled the motionless feline, waiting for the feline’s strike.

  Jeers soon rang out from the crowd in an effort to break the stalemate, anxious for blood. Finally, it came; the feline making the first move, a straight-armed chop toward the canine’s throat, claws extended, blurringly fast. It just missed the fight master’s throat. In response, the canine threw his best roundhouse kick followed by a spinning back kick. The feline seemed to float out of the way, untouched. And so they sparred, neither landing a blow as they tested each other’s skill and seemingly perfect defense.

  After the bell announced the beginning of the final round, neither fighter had scored a point or landed a single blow but the pace was beginning to take its toll. It would only be a matter of time until one of the exhausted fighters made a mistake.

  The feline made the first mistake, slipping in a puddle of the fight master’s drool. The canine was on him in a split second, seizing the feline master from behind, succeeding in his strangle hold, choking the feline to senselessness, ending the fight.

  The crowd erupted in applause and began chanting the canine master’s fight name Rowl! Rowl! Rowl! However, I could see that it was an empty victory for the exhausted fight master. He obviously took no joy in the feline’s defeat. He did no victory dance, leaving the ring quickly.

  Even the stealth master turned to leave the disgraced feline master’s crumpled form in the ring, offering no assistance. I wondered silently what had caused such a disgrace. I pitied the disgraced master as I remembered how my former instructor had died in my arms. Then I turned to join the receding stealth master. It was none of my affair and I could not break cover no matter how sad the sight of the beaten and disgraced feline master was.

  Much later in our room in the temple workers’ section, I awoke suddenly and instantly on guard, my hand on my blaster, at the gentle touch of the feline master. I had only slept for a couple of hours I reasoned, as the sun had not yet come up.

  “Human Tom, I have just watched as the leader’s personal assistant summoned Maalox. I am sure it is about today in the market.” She purred softly: “We will follow them and observe their meeting. Ready yourself: we leave at once.”

  My mind whirled as I quickly dressed, donning my boots. Finally, a true test, I thought, one complete with death as the outcome if caught. I wondered if I was ready for such a high-risk stealth.

  As if reading my mind I heard the feline Master mew from behind me, in a disembodied and invisible voice, “You will do well Human Tom, of that I am sure. Just follow my lead and do not decloak until I signal, if I do.”

  As we waited, at the entrance to the hallway leading to the leader’s office, I wondered if we were too late. Maybe Maalox was already inside with the leader. In the distance down the hallway, I heard the sounds of movement headed toward us.

  There were two, judging from the muffled, shuffling footsteps. It would seem that the leader’s assistant was supporting either an unwilling or an intoxicated Maalox. That would work to our advantage. The assistant would be too preoccupied to give much notice to his surroundings. Not that he could see either of us; we were cloaked.

  As the assistant struggled with the door we followed him in, unobserved. I drifted toward an empty corner of the office. The feline master stayed in the middle of the room. We waited for the arrival of the leader. We did not have to wait long. A large, hidden door slid open. In walked what looked like a huge Earth baboon. I
thought to myself, THAT is the leader? It was not what I expected. I guess I thought the leader would be more, well, a little more evolved.

  The assistant rose to his feet and Maalox struggled to his until the leader was seated behind the electronic console on his massive, crudely made desk.

  “Master,” began the assistant, “Maalox believes that the feline master and her student are spies.”

  “It would seem that Snarth was seen in the market today. Is this true?” barked the baboon-like leader.

  “Yes master,” slurred Maalox.

  The leader let out an ear-splitting howl. “Are you sure it was Snarth?” he demanded.

  “Yes Master,” Maalox slurred once again.

  “Does he have the artifact or not?” asked the leader.

  “Sniggle insists he has it, Master,” said a more alert Maalox.

  “Then if he is here those two MUST be his spies. Bring them to me, alive,” roared the leader again, emitting another ear-shattering scream of rage.

  As the ringing in my ears subsided, I saw the feline master decloak, her claws at the throat of the now seated Maalox. “If Snarth is here, it is to try to buy my services again, nothing more,” spat the feline master twitching her tail furiously. I drew my blaster and waited for the master’s cue to decloak. “This rodent is resentful of a slight dishonor my student did him. He is only looking for revenge,” yowled the agitated feline master. “I will not allow his lies to bring dishonor to me or my student,” she hissed. “It is true that Snarth is here. However, I am no longer in his employ, nor will I be anytime soon,” she continued. “It is also true that I was in Snarth’s employ when he stole the artifact you seek from the very rival who accuses him of having it. I also know who he sold it to.”

  “I never fully trusted Sniggle,” said the leader as he calmly stared at the captive Maalox and the enraged Feline master. “But how can I trust you?” he asked the feline master. Without answering, the feline master hissed into the ear of Maalox, “I told you that if you ever caused trouble for me or my student again, I would disembowel you. Let’s just say I changed my mind and I am going to slit your throat instead,” she said, her feline blade appearing at Maalox’s throat.

  “Hold,” howled the baboon in a deafening voice. The master stayed her blade just as it drew blood. “Good security chiefs are so hard to find, Master Feline,” calmed the leader. “If you kill him, who will I get to replace him? You?” he asked.

  The feline master threw Maalox to the floor, drew herself up to her full height, and hissed, “I am a feline master in search of honest employment only. I find your obsession with the artifact distasteful. It shows a lack of character and questionable morals on your part,” hissed the feline master to the leader. “The price for my services just went up. In fact so much so, I don’t think you can afford me,” she yowled, her tail twitching furiously from side to side. “It will cost you two million galactic credits if you want my help.”

  “What have you to offer me that would command such a high price, Master Feline?” retorted the leader.

  “Like I said, I helped steal the artifact once, why not again?” hissed the feline master icily.

  “You really do know where it is, don’t you,” asked a now gleeful leader. “Tell me now and I will pay your price,” screeched the leader now fully consumed by his obsession; he was in an almost maniacal state.

  “What assurances do I have that you will not make it known that I told you where the artifact is?” countered the feline master coldly. “After all, I would be violating a contract if I do,” stated the now calm feline master. “And that could get me killed.

  “Tell me now!” screeched the leader, “Tell me NOW!”

  At that moment, the feline master gave me the clue to decloak. My appearance had a sobering effect on the leader as he snapped back into this reality. The leader, embarrassed by his loss of control, cleared his throat, regaining his normal speaking voice.

  “The fact that I didn’t have my student kill you should be enough reason to trust me. After all, he has sworn allegiance to me. I will let your insult pass this once,” hissed the stealth master.

  From my position in the corner, I could see that rodent Maalox was up to something. I suddenly moved into a combat stance sighting my blaster on Maalox. He froze and something metal clinked to the floor. That little bastard had been palming a dagger and was preparing to stab the feline master in the back. My face grew red with anger, my finger tightened on the firing stud of my blaster.

  “No Human Tom, do not kill him,” hissed the feline master quietly. That was a dash of cold reasoning turning the heat of my anger to the ice of revenge. Maalox would pay for that deception later.

  “As you can see, my student is well trained and loyal to me,” purred the feline master, even though her tail continued to twitch from side to side.

  The leader leaned back in his wooden chair, causing it to groan under his impressive weight. “Feline Master and Human Tom, please be my guests here at the temple while I make up my mind about your price. That is a great deal of money and we are not as rich as Snarth. We depend on the generosity of our followers and patrons. It will take some time to gather such a large sum.”

  The leader bowed his head in deference to the feline master and then again to me. Then he rang a bell on his desk and a mech servant appeared almost at once. “Take the Master Feline and her student to the executive guest quarters and see to their needs.” As the leader rose to leave, he said, “I should have an answer for you in the morning.” Then he disappeared out the once-hidden door behind him, leaving me, the feline master, Maalox and the assistant staring at each other.

  “This way,” croaked the mech servant in a metallic galactic standard as it rolled out the now open door and started down the hall. I tensed as Maalox rose and scurried out the door and down the hall opposite the mech servant, his frantic pace revealing his fear.

  The assistant fled out the hidden door the leader had disappeared through, leaving the Feline Master and me to follow the mech servant, who was now paused, waiting. “This way please,” it bleeped again, its metallic voice echoing down the deserted hallway. With respect, I waited to follow the feline master’s lead.

  After the mech servant left the sparsely decorated guestrooms, I wondered to myself what the quarters of a new convert must be if this was how basic the executive guest quarters are.

  “Human Tom, the leader believes our story and now he is going to try to kill us to protect his secret.”

  “That’s the sense I get too Master,” I answered.

  “These fanatics are so predictable. They can justify anything as long as it is in the name of their cause,” she hissed in distaste.

  “Yes Master,” I answered.

  “We must preempt their strike and exact revenge at the same time,” she continued. “I will kill the leader, you kill Maalox. We will meet up at the rendezvous point outside the city in two hours. Be careful Human Tom. Mind what I have taught you. Maalox is not to be underestimated.”

  “Yes Master, I will be careful,” I replied.

  “Do not use your blaster in the temple, Human Tom. That may raise alarms,” the feline master cautioned.

  “Gladly Master,” I answered with a savage grin, my hand drifted to the killing dagger on my belt. I would enjoy killing Maalox up close and personal. He would have no doubt about who killed him. He would be number twenty-two.

  Maalox was not in his quarters. Next, I tried the bar nearest to the temple. Sure enough there he was, belly up to the bar with his back to the door. I knew this to be a deception. Maalox knew I would come for him. He was trying to lull me into overconfidence with his back to the door, seemingly unprotected. However, I could see him watching the mirror in front of him intently, waiting for me to show up. I decided not to disappoint.

  I entered the bar cloaked, and studied the layout, making my plan of attack. As I watched, Maalox downed another shot of some kind of liquid, alcohol most likely, or the eq
uivalent on this planet. I had better hurry or he may be considered too drunk to legally be killed in a public show down.

  I took up position and readied my attack a little to his left and behind. I decloaked and shouted “Maalox, you have dishonored me for the last time. Prepare to defend yourself.” Maalox shot two feet straight up in the air, fumbling for his blaster midair.

  In his drunkenness, he missed the first attempt to draw and desperately clawed at his blaster once he landed on the barstool. I jumped sideways, crouched and waited. On his third attempt to draw, Maalox succeeded in clearing his blaster from its holster, swinging it wildly in my direction. I drew in one smooth motion and burned him right between his beady little eyes.

  The music stopped and the crowd of patrons went silent. With a flourish, I holstered my blaster and scanned the crowd for any of Maalox’s friends or associates. No challenge came. As I turned to leave, a huge galactic security mech blocked the door, blasters drawn and activated. I paused, raising my hands over my head.

  The mech had the symbol of law enforcement plastered prominently over its front. “Hands up!! Explain yourself citizen,” boomed a metallic voice in galactic standard.

  “This person dishonored me not once but twice and I claim vengeance,” I answered.

  The mech paused before asking, “Who can verify this citizen’s claim?” Most of the crowd pointedly looked the other way. “Speak up citizens, it is your galactic duty,” boomed the Security Mech.

  Finally, the bartender spoke up. “He gave Maalox three attempts to draw his weapon before he fired. Maalox would have killed him if he hadn’t killed Maalox.”

  “Very well,” said the security mech. “Does anyone claim otherwise?” No one spoke. “Does anyone claim vengeance on this citizen?” questioned the security mech. Still the crowd was quiet. “Very well.” boomed the security mech with its metallic version of galactic standard, “I judge this self-defense. Mind yourself citizen, next time you might kill someone with friends,” the mech cautioned. Then it left the bar, continuing on its patrol down the street. I beat a hasty retreat, no need to invite any more trouble from the mech police.