Of Money and Monsters

Earthling Merchant Ship Traveling at Superluminal Speeds, 2170 AD

It is generally accepted (unless the reader disagrees, in which case there is one dissenting opinion) that humankind and the species of Marqui aliens have the closest ties. The second act (debated by some historians to be the first) of the ASA (the American Space Administration) was to liberate the Marqui from an oppressive, technologically advanced species known as the Frigii. There are no records of the Frigii following this event, and they apparently departed the planet into uncharted space. In the fifty years since the Marqui began to establish their society independent from the system of slavery imposed by their now-fallen overlords, they had made significant progress in that short time.

As part of their program to train their own space pilots and initiate trade with the three other species in the known region of space (humans, Zytoc, and Aquainians), they frequently apprenticed their people to human merchants shipping goods from Earth to the Marqui area. This arrangement was beneficial to many, including Harry Edwards.

Harry Edwards had apprenticed many Marqui pilots over the years. He found the Marqui to be very companionable overall. They were much better than the vicious Zytoc, whose attempt to invade Earth fifty years prior had started the ASA (though they now claimed to have turned over a new leaf), and nicer than the almost worshipful Aquainians, who went out of their way to demonstrate how humble they were and didn’t understand the first thing about spaceships.

Harry’s Marqui apprentices had left him after only two or three years to start their businesses. Martin, Harry’s most recent Marquí apprentice, had worked with Harry for nearly ten years now and had become more of a friend to Harry than any human he knew.

As if summoned by thought, Martin cleared his throat while leaning on the doorframe leading into the cockpit. Harry spun his chair around, the blood draining from his face when he saw what Martin held in his hands.

Martin was tall, like all Marqui, and muscular, like most. His skin was dark blue and leathery, covered in black tattoos that signified his achievements, such as hunting and fighting. This skin was the one feature that distinguished him from a human. In most other ways, he resembled Harry, only taller and broader.

“Do you want to explain this?” Martin asked, dropping the heavy iron crate reinforced with Jerium, the strongest metal known, found only in Marquesh, the Maqui home world. It crashed to the floor, ringing out a sour note.

Harry cringed, “Yeah, about that…”

Martin removed his sunglasses, revealing his bright green eyes, and tossed his dreadlocks over his shoulder. “Yes, please: about that.”

It was a Marqui tradition never to cut their hair after they turned fifteen, which made the age more like twenty because Marquesh’s year was longer than Earth’s. Martin bore the marks of this tradition with a short, pointy beard, a goatee, and huge dreads.

Harry nervously fingered his own short goatee, thinking hard. “Well, when we were in Tarcacity loading up for the trip to Earth, a man approached me.”

Martin’s stare was unnerving. “And?”

“He, uh, he told me,” Harry swallowed, “he said I had been suggested to him by an acquaintance. Oh, forget it, Martin! Yes, he asked me to smuggle that crate to a contact on Earth.”

Martin shook his head, more disappointed than anything. “Really, Harry? How much did he offer before you agreed? “

Harry straightened himself. “No! I would never smuggle for profit!”

“Then why, Harry?” Martin asked, finally sounding angry. “Because he said please?”

“He told me he had proof of my previous activities and would reveal them if I didn’t comply,” Harry muttered.

Martin shook his head. “That won’t solve anything! Do you think he will relinquish whatever proof he has after you do one shipment for him? What about the next? You smuggled eight years ago. No one can prosecute you for that! You can, however, get arrested for this.”

Of all his apprentices, Martin was the one who figured out about his smuggling. It had started with a few boxes here and there, maybe a few tax-free furs. From there, it escalated to hiding supplies for some pirates and picking up cargo for a few questionable characters likely to be fugitives.

Martin discovered Harry’s secret only two years into his apprenticeship. Instead of turning Harry in for a reward, he made Harry promise to cease. Harry had desperately complied, and since then, their relationship had shifted from apprenticeship-master to something more complex.

Harry finally stood and faced Martin. He stared up at his friend, shaking his head. Harry, at thirty-two, was older than Martin, who was twenty (twenty-seven in Earth years), yet Martin could still intimidate him by sheer size.

Harry swallowed, “I couldn’t do it, Martin. How would I face anyone if they knew what I had done? How could I face my family? What would my kids think of me, knowing their father was a worthless space scum?”

“Is that better than having to commit crimes for a stranger?”

Harry rubbed his palms into his eyes and spun around. “You make it sound so bad like that!”

Martin sat in the co-pilot seat. He thought for a long time, “Okay, I’ll go through with this. Just know this isn’t my area of expertise, and this is the last time. Ever.”

Harry smiled and responded in Shellom, the primary Marqui language. Five years of lessons made Harry quite fluent, “Tridon ij tridan, ridonen tercor.” (you and me, we are unconquered).

Martin stood slowly, nodding, continuing in Shellom, “Two weeks until we reach Earth.”

Harry nodded sullenly, staring at the small metal crate. Two weeks, then it would all be over. But who knew what two weeks might bring?

• • • • •

Gordon Melniz was cramped, yet he was comfortable. He was good at being comfortable despite strange situations. Gordon Melniz was on what the ASA soldiers like to call RW (retirement work). He fulfilled a useless job in the ASA while waiting for his retirement on a sunny beach on the Italian coast.

In the years since the American government had militarized NASA (making it into just the ASA), it had become increasingly paranoid over off-world sicknesses and invasive species. They now had a system of service satellites and scanners that protected Earth, one of which Gordon kept running.

When a ship arrived (already having its paperwork from someone more notable at Moon City or one of the Martian ports), Gordon reviewed its manifest, scanned the cargo with a Y-ray beam capable of penetrating and identifying it, provided additional paperwork, logged the details, and sent the ship on its way. It was dull work, but Gordon had experienced worse, such as when he was a janitor at a military base on Sebeq, a moon with such a toxic atmosphere that the air filters had to be replaced monthly.

Gordon thought (then and now) that the military bases and ships scattered at the far reaches of charted space were silly, for the ASA had had no enemy to fight since their first and only battle. Nowadays, the ASA maintained peace among the four species, none of which owned decent ships that weren’t purchased from Earth (aside from a few hulking relics of the Zytoc empire, which were completely outdated).

Gordon began to nod off while reading a new ASA memo about ‘good conduct, ‘ and was about to drift off completely when a buzzer sounded from the speaker. He sprang to his feet, banging his head on the small station roof. All the rooms had sloping roofs that narrowed as you approached the chair bed or sink. This design saved space at the cost of comfort.

Gordon cursed, stumbled over his chair, cursed some more, and finally regained his balance. He sat down, checked his computer, and accepted an incoming message.

Harry Edwards was on the other end. He sat in his pilot’s chair, tossing a stress ball back and forth. He had taken to carrying it everywhere with him in the past two weeks. When the crate began to tremble and shake, his fears of being discovered and the potential consequences had started to drive him mad.

He had chosen a simple smuggling method: a concealed compartment in the side of the wall. The crate was in there now, but from its shaking and rattling, he knew something alive was inside, and he didn’t like it.

Harry asked Martin earlier that week if they should try to feed it. Martin had given him a withering glare and responded, “Why?”

“It might die!” Harry had said.

Martin had shrugged, saying, “Who cares!”

“This is Harry Edwards,” Harry said, leaning back in his seat, “here with a shipload of stuff from Marquesh. Sorry, that is, from the Tarcacity port. I think a lot of the stuff is Aquainian. It is for Delhi below.”

Gordon watched the blurry image on his computer, “Why aren’t you at the New York spaceport?” he asked, trying to keep the complaint from his voice.

Because they have better security measures, Harry thought, but he decided it was best not to respond.

Gordon continued, “If you pull up to my station, I’ll board you and check through your cargo.”

Harry nodded, “pulling in, over, and out.”

Gordon got up, left his mini office, and went through his small bedroom and kitchen before heading to the ship port, which opened as the spaceship docked. The cargo ship was nearly five times larger than the tiny station where Gordon lived. He crawled through the small tube and emerged on the other side, meeting the now-clear Harry.

He scowled slightly at the much younger man as he finally stretched in the open-roofed docking bay. Harry was lean and muscular, wearing a large jacket and long pants. Every bit of him appeared official, much more so than Gordon’s old uniform.

Harry cleared his throat, wondering where Martin was. Martin had run into the cargo room for a final check to ensure everything was in order, which usually took only five minutes since nothing could typically be out of place. Martin had yet to return, indicating trouble on top of what Harry was already dealing with. Harry began to sweat as he squeezed the putty-filled rubber ball in his hand and gave Gordon their official manifest.

Gordon accepted the hard drive, plugged it into his small Y-ray scanner, and ran the harmless but handy radiation across Harry, the walls, and the floor. He went through the drill half-heartedly since the Kuiper Gate accomplished most security measures.

The Kuiper Gate was a large metal ring capable of accommodating the biggest crafts. Upon crossing through the threshold of this gate, the ship received a ‘tag’ that effectively verified it was allowed to enter the solar system. The Kuiper Gate also scanned the interior of the vessel, including structural plans and dangerous materials (bombs, weapons, and radioactive substances). Any ship without a ‘tag’ (therefore not having passed through the gate) that crossed Jupiter’s orbit was ordered to turn around or be blasted to pieces.

Since Harry had already gone through the gate and Moon City security, Gordon was only there in theory, in case Harry had picked up extra cargo since. He ran his scanner further down the hallway before directing it over to Harry and Martin’s quarters.

The ship was a large model, featuring a medium-sized cockpit at the front, a rectangular hallway forming the ship’s main body and connecting Martin’s and Harry’s quarters surrounding the center (kitchen and bathroom), with a huge cargo area at the back filled with little ‘towers’ of pallets that barely left space in between them. Gordon traversed the cargo, which took nearly fifteen minutes. Throughout this, Harry kept thinking Martin would appear around the corner at any moment, but Martin continued to be absent.

Gordon plodded slowly toward the front of the ship, hoping to return to his station and finally catch the nap he had missed.

Gordon thanked Harry cordially and began making his way up the rectangular hallway toward the exit to his space station. Harry thanked Gordon with the standard formula, not paying attention, because he just spotted the secret smuggling panel ahead swinging wide open. Gordon didn’t notice and walked past it, stopping only when Martin came running around the corner.

Martin panted rapidly, “Run!”

Harry and Gordon stared blankly.

“Did you not hear me?” Martin yelled, getting back up and running again. “Get out of here, you fools!”

After Martin was around the corner, a hideous arachnid creature about a foot and a half long followed. It was like a scorpion, but two fused into one body, two tails, six legs, four claws, and two blunt heads.

It hissed long and loud, arching its tails above its head. Gordon yelped and fell backward. Martin caught him, pulling the older man up.

Harry pulled out his lightning thrower and aimed it. Martin got the idea and followed suit. The lightning throwers (or liths, as most people called them) were leftover weapons from the Frigii occupation of Marquesh. The ASA had been studying them for years, trying to duplicate them because they were much more effective than the overly destructive radial-9s that ASA officers carried. Liths also had adjustable strength, ranging from a simple stun to a powerful kill. It had cost Harry and Martin a fortune to obtain the pair of weapons, but so far, it had been worth it on every occasion.

Harry switched the power level to a painful stun and fired several volleys of multicolored jagged light, which sparked across the skin of the diminutive creature and beneath it. Martin joined Harry, and the two of them marched stolidly forward, hands gripping the bulbous pistols that shocked the creature’s face and tail. With a hiss, it scuttled away back around the corner.

Harry turned toward Martin, whisper-yelling in Shellom, “What on earth was that thing?”

Martin tapped his foot testily, “You know where it came from.”

Harry bit his lip. “The crate?”

Martin nodded, “And now it is loose and free.”

Harry paced to Gordon, switching into English, “Are you okay?”

Gordon nodded, so Harry returned to Martin and continued in Shellom, “Why did you pull it out of the secret compartment?”

Martin folded his arms. “It was making such a racket in there that I knew I had to hide it somewhere else, but I wasn’t expecting it to melt right through the side of its container.”

Harry stroked his chin. “They should have made the crate stronger.”

Martin straightened to his full height, a rather imposing six feet ten inches. “I think maybe you are misplacing the blame here. Who brought the thing on the ship in the first place?”

Harry paced across the floor, angry that Martin was blaming him for all this and furious at that mysterious man for putting him in this situation. Harry helped Gordon up: “It appears we have a stowaway onboard. If you get to your station, we can eradicate it, and you can finish your inspection.”

“A stowaway?” Gordon cried, getting to his feet, “that thing is from Marquesh?”

It looked more like a lab-born monster to Harry, but he didn’t say, “Yes… I believe.”

Harry glanced at Martin. All Marqui were trained to hunt and know the various creatures from six (eight in Earth years). Martin shook his head discreetly, mouthing, “No, it is not.”

Harry repeated himself, giving Martin a “help me out here” look: “My associate and I can take care of this situation if you…”

“I will aid you!” Gordon said, regaining his professional pride. “Let’s find this thing and, uh…”

“Capture it,” Harry said while Martin called out, “kill it.”

Harry looked at Martin dubiously. Martin relented, “If we capture it, what do we do with it?”

Gordon pulled out a small hexapad, something similar to a descendant of the iPad. “I have reported the situation and am awaiting orders.”

“Good,” Harry said, pulling his lith out and pacing towards the corner, “while you await your orders, let’s go catch this thing.”

Martin followed, a serious expression on his face and a matching lith. Gordon clipped the hexapad back onto his belt and pulled out the disintegrating, much less high-tech radial nine, staring disappointedly at it before following the others.

They peered cautiously around the corner. Harry motioned; Martin pulled to his left side. Covering each other, they moved down the hall in synchronization. With a ship that spent weeks in superluminal speeds, they had little to do besides practice. Gordon followed awkwardly, recalling his days in the academy, crouching with his gun ready, unsure whether to shoot and at what.

Harry glanced at the door to his quarters, which hung slightly open. He looked at Martin, nodded, and, in a rush, kicked open the door and rolled inside as Martin vaulted over him.

Gordon rushed to catch up with them, sliding to a halt as Harry and Martin opened fire, their shots sparking off the skin of what appeared to be a slightly bigger scorpion monster. The creature ran up the wall, evading Harry and Martin’s shots. Martin cornered it against the wall, and Harry rolled over to come up at its feet, shocking it repeatedly. It screeched in agony and evaded Martin, escaping Harry’s grasp.

Martin threw the strength of his lith up to high and swung it up to point at the monster. It arched its tail back over its head and released a spray of toxic acid that bubbled and frothed straight at Harry. He dodged to the side and rolled away as the acid pooled across the floor behind him. Gordon gathered his wits and fired at the monster. The beam of radial energy, white-hot with a tinge of blue, streamed from the medium-sized weapon and took off a piece of the door frame, cutting into the beast, which screeched in agony and fired off more acid.

Martin leaped forward from around the only partially open door, tackling Gordon to the deck. The beast sprayed more acid from just one tail and, barely missing Gordon, sprinted away across the ceiling toward the cargo hold.

Gordon sat up, shaken. “Thanks, Marty.”

Martin raised his eyebrows and folded his big, buff, blue arms across his chest. “Martin.”

Gordon nodded amicably, but Harry entered the hall before he could say anything. “Be careful with that thing!”

Gordon looked at the radial-9 still clenched in his hand. “I think I hit it.”

“You took the door off with it!” Harry cried. To Martin, he said, “Can you seal off the cargo area?”

Martin pulled up a wrist device. These were useful because you could access the ship’s systems simultaneously, but they were hard to use for the same reason: “sealed off the other side.”

Harry opened a compartment in the wall and pulled out a handful of miniature metal bearings: energy nets. When thrown, they formed a powerful barrier around any object. You simply cast the small pebbles into the air, and they clattered down around the now-ensnared person, some suspended in the air and forming a web-like net of pulse energy around the person, or in this case, the bug.

Martin shook his head when Harry offered him some. “No.”

Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly, adding in Shellom, “Come on, I have to take this thing alive!”

Martin shook his head, “This is a bad idea, Harry, and I’m done with it, both of us, for your own good.” He then threw his lith into high gear; a hit almost anywhere would instantly kill in violent agony.

Gordon accepted the bearings Harry handed him distractedly. He was examining his hexapad, and finally, he spoke, “I’ve received my orders from… a different general. I guess he must have seen the message before my commander saw it. He says, and I quote, ‘Do not harm the creature. Once it is subdued, begin landing procedures, and that’s it.”

Martin grudgingly took Harry’s energy nets. “Why does the ASA want this brute alive?”

Harry muttered to himself as if calculating something. Gordon continued about something else, but neither of them was listening. Something caught Harry’s ear, however.

“What was that, Gordon?” he asked.

“Uhhh, I said something about General Dillan, and…” Gordon began.

Harry snapped his fingers. He explained in Shellom to Martin, twirling his lith around his finger, “Dillan was the name of the client I was supposed to smuggle this creature to! I wasn’t supposed to see it, but someone put his name down on a paper, and I saw it by accident. He wants the shipment to come through so he can get his goods: no wonder he intercepted Gordon’s request for orders.”

Martin shrugged, speaking also in Shellom: “ASA, crime boss, I don’t see any difference. You are still smuggling, even if it is for a supposed good guy, although I doubt he is doing this for the ASA. He is probably trying to make a bit of… uh, spending cash if you catch my drift.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah…”

Gordon cleared his throat, “Ahem! Are we going to catch this… thing?”

Martin nodded, “Oh, I am going to catch it.”

Harry rubbed his jaw. “Alive, Martin, remember.”

Martin scowled. “Yeah, of course, although it is sooo easy to forget which setting my lith is on.”

“Martin!”

He finally stopped looking serious and chuckled. “Fine, whatever, you crack me up sometimes.”

Harry rolled his eyes, then turned to Gordon. Gordon motioned, and they moved down the hall after a few seconds, Gordon taking the rear.

Slowly but surely, they began to fan out, checking the long, straight corridors of crates. As they moved through, Harry kept losing sight of Gordon and Martin on either side for long periods until he would come to an intersection of pathways between crates and converse with them. He was now really on edge. This whole situation, along with learning that he was about to bring down the wrath of the ASA (or at least an ASA general), was mixing with unpleasant results.

Nothing, and nothing. Harry began to sweat, knowing any moment it could leap forward at him in its scaly horror. Harry’s knuckles whitened around the handle of his lith. Gordon came out ahead of Harry in a space where the crates widened out and left a large clearing for cargo that was never loaded. Harry nearly leaped out of his skin. Gordon almost did as well. “I thought you were it!” he spluttered, hand over his chest.

“Me too!” Harry agreed as Martin joined them, and the three stood momentarily, wondering what to do next.

“It can’t have hidden unless it’s under the pallets, but I think it is too big for that,” Martin growled, scuffing his boots of rzypa leather on the deck.

Harry agreed, “I get the weird feeling it is tailing us, playing with us.”

Gordon shivered, then shouted, alarmed, “Harry, Matty, it is behind you!”

Harry instinctively ducked down onto one knee. It flew over him, sliding across the slick metal ground and slamming into the crate ahead of Harry, still grappling for purchase.

Finally finding its footing, it spun back around and charged down Harry, its tails aimed to stab or spray him. Harry vaulted with his hand over the creature, executing the perfect flip Martin had shown him (athletics were a big thing on Marquesh). It ran up short, confused, before spinning to face the now-standing Harry, who blasted it back multiple times. The monster screeched and scrabbled backward. Harry relentlessly shot high-power shots into its side, but it didn’t die. It almost seemed to be growing.

Martin got up from his crouch and cast his net forward at the beast, its tail caught in the edge, but the net failed to form, having nothing in its center. Gordon looked around for his weapon in the middle of the blasting chaos and ran after it, having dropped it when he warned Harry.

Harry fished out his net, relenting his firing, and cast. It bounced outward, the individual spheres bouncing around, with many of them coming to a halt in mid-air over the creature. Others were pulled like planets in orbit inward, and the glowing cords formed, ensnaring the beast in moments.

Harry bent over, holstering his lith and panting with exertion. Martin got up and stared at the bug, immobilized, arched backward. “It is bigger.”

Harry examined it, “Maybe… but how?”

“Maybe it had a growth spurt?”

Harry laughed and looked towards Gordon, who ran up panting. Gordon smiled and clipped his radial-9 back into place at his belt, “Good work, team.”

Martin gave him a withering look, but Gordon didn’t notice. He continued, “Now all we have to do is figure out how to bring it back down to earth safely!”

Harry agreed, “Sure… maybe we can find an acid-proof container.”

Martin tapped his chin, thinking, “Nah, it burned straight through Jerium-iron. I don’t know what could hold it.”

Gordon leaned close to the enclosed creature. “It’s twitching.”

Harry was discussing options with Martin, “Hmm?” he asked and then straightened in alarm, “What?”

Gordon shrugged, “he moved his tail.”

Harry knelt, and Martin joined them, “That isn’t possible!” Harry exclaimed.

Gordon pointed as the creature squirmed, and the net began to glow brighter. Harry gasped and went to shout a warning when Martin realized the danger too, shouting, “Get down!” as he yanked Harry and Godron away.

With a spectacular explosion, the monster came free: angry, hungry, and fully fifteen feet long, nearly ten times its original size.

“It absorbs energy to increase its mass!” Harry shouted out as if a crowd of scholars were listening, “Our liths just made it stronger, and it sucked in the energy of the net and destroyed it.”

“Got it!” Martin called, whipping out his lith, and then thinking better of shooting, he glanced at Harry, “What do we hit it with then?”

Harry shrugged while jogging backward, which is a feat magnanimous enough to deserve a medal, in my opinion. Gordon got up again. It seemed to him he was continually falling in this adventure, and that was annoying him quite a bit. Determined to do something, Gordon stood his ground. Aiming his weapon, he pulled down on the trigger, and the ‘much inferior’ blaster sizzled white-blue through the air and in a shimmering blast, severing the end of one scorpion tail from its body.

The thing freaked out, charging forward and ramming into his body. Gordon let out a shout of pain as he rocketed backward into a pile of crates with a sickening crack. It raged and screamed, flailing its tail, sending splashes of bubbling acid across the ground.

Harry stared at the severed tail in shock. The radial-9 had managed to burn straight through the tail. In this case, the technology of the ASA had bested the Frigii. It actually made sense on further thought. The Frigii weapon was supposed to shock a life form enough to kill it; the ASA’s radial-9 was supposed to burn up anything in its path. Martin charged down at the monster, firing blast after blast at the beast on the highest power. It backed up, allowing Gordon to scramble away dazedly. Harry dove across the ground and caught the radial-9.

Harry set his stance, “Hey! Scorpion, check this out!”

It spun slowly, giant, jointed legs clicking. Martin looked at Harry in alarm. Harry stared back solemnly, “I’m sorry, Martin, you were right. This is all my fault.”

Martin protested, but the bestial monster moved between them, running straight at Harry. He shouted to Martin, “It is about time I took responsibility for my actions, and no one is going to get hurt because of me!”

“Harry, no!”

 Harry headed straight at the double-chomping maw. The beast gleefully ran at him, ready for the foolish, easy prey. Harry dropped onto his back and slid straight towards the creature across the slick metal ground, and when he was nearly there, he held down on the handle. A blinding stream poured upwards, splashing like liquid light across the upper abdomen’s scales. It screamed. A full, ear-shattering, mind-numbing scream that bounded and rebounded off the walls. Then, falling back, it struck Harry with the severed tail, spinning him into a crate.

With a solid crack, Harry collided, struggling to his feet, and he got a full-on view of the creature, the remaining tail poised to strike and the ever-present maw ready to chew.

Harry swallowed back bile in his throat, wincing at every movement and clutching the side that was now feeling warm and wet with blood. Grimacing, he attempted to stand. The gun lay on the ground, fully ten feet away.

The tail struck once, twice, three times. Harry tried to roll and duck, missing two. The third strike pinned his coat into the side of the pallets and boxes behind him. Harry could smell the rich scent of iron and the foul odor of the beast’s breath.

Bright light lashed out like the edge of a whip, and it ran right through the monster’s side, forcing it to relent from Harry’s destruction. Harry pulled himself up again, leaning heavily against the rough wood of the pallets behind him.

Martin stood behind him and a ways to the right, “I’m glad you’re dealing with your mess, but that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone!”

Gordon came up to join Martin, wielding another radial-9 that Martin had pulled from a crate. Harry smiled, more of a grimace, and took his friend’s rough, leathery hand. Martin repeated to Harry the Shellom phrase Harry had said earlier, “Tridon ij tridan, ridonen tercor.” (you and me. We are unconquered).

Gordon yelled out a warning, “Watch your six!”

Harry turned, noting the creature now rallying for another attack was limping and missing a leg. Harry looked at Gordon, “On your mark!”

Gordon nodded, his military training kicking in, “Ready! Ready…”

Martin tensed, and Harry pushed himself upright, letting go of him. The monster ran straight at them, spitting and growling.

Gordon readied himself, “Ready! And… Now!”

All three fired simultaneously. Its instinct to strike caused it to charge headlong, pulling itself up. It ran directly for the disintegrating beams, which plowed into it. For a moment, there was a glorious aurora of colors splashing and curling like smoke around the hideous thing. Until, in a flashing explosion, it broke apart violently and rocked the ship to its core.

Three crashed downwards, where they sat dazed for a moment. Gordon shook his head, taking his bearings, “That thing came in a crate.”

Harry looked over at him, surprised that Gordon was just now thinking about that, but then again, with the crazy chase and worrying about dying, he probably hadn’t been contemplating it.

Gordon continued, “I’m guessing that thing wasn’t a stowaway or a native of Marquesh?”

Martin nodded.

Gordon thought on this some more, getting to his feet, “Well, it’s not like I can say much without incriminating the general, but more importantly, from what I know of you two, I’d say you were probably forced into it one way or another.”

Harry stood with Martin’s help. Martin noticed the injury under the thick space-grade jacket Harry always wore. On closer examination, he found it to be a bruise from where the stub of a tail had struck with enough force to create a crescent-shaped cut in the center. Martin clicked his tongue. “We’ll have to get medical help for that.”

Harry shook his head, “Nah, what we’ve got in the ship should be fine.”

Martin folded his arms in his signature way.

Harry agreed reluctantly.

They escorted Gordon back to his station. Gordon was rather jovial, like he had now decided his job wasn’t useless.

Gordon nodded a goodbye, “Glad I could be of service. And… maybe I’ll see you guys again?”

“Definitely,” Martin said.

The cargo ship detached and began its descent. Harry sat in the co-pilot seat as Martin guided them to the Delhi spaceport. He strapped a few bandages across the wound, grunting in repressed pain. Finally, he decided that would be enough and sat back in his chair.

Martin finally spoke up, “Well, at least with Dillan, that general guy probably won’t raise too much commotion over the lost creature… maybe he will still make the records public, but I don’t see what he will gain from that, so I think you’re in the clear.”

“No, he might just do it for spite,” Harry said.

Martin consented to that.

“But he could just use the record to make me smuggle again,” Harry said, “that is why I have to come clean.”

Martin turned to Harry, surprise written all over his face, “Really?”

“It is time for it to come into the light,” Harry said, “I can only get rid of this guy’s power over me by telling people what I did. My family at least deserves to know. And after that, I want to stop this guy.”

“Dillan? The general?”

“Yep, it is just like that famous ASA general said, uhh… Tyler… Tyler, something. I can’t remember.”

“Tyler Corick.” Martin prompted.

“Yeah, he said something famous. It was one of his ten principles of a working system or something. He said something like: Just because you hide evil or corruption doesn’t make it go away.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Martin said.

Harry continued, “Then I will expose this guy and stop him once and for all. The ASA isn’t going to become the next corrupt government; it needs an awakening.”

Martin glanced dubiously at Harry. “And you are the one to wake it up?”

Harry shrugged, “Someone has to start, although fighting corruption is something everyone needs to do. I tell you, Martin, I’ve got a good feeling about the future.’’

Martin chuckled, “Now you have me worried.’’