Earth Vs. Aliens (Aliens Series 1) (25 page)

“Yup, you look hot! Too bad there aren’t any unattached human males who could show you a good time!”

The woman, who looked twenty years younger than her 78 chrono-age, lifted one hand as if to slap him like she had done when earlier he asked if she tinted her hair. However she stopped. Then grinned big.

“Good! That is what your Grandpa Ephraim would have said to me, had he survived Kirkwood Gap.” She paused, noticing how the ship captains had gathered around the two of them. “Well, Ignacio and I are ready to lift and haul your ice locker into this Gathering Hall. Wherever that is.”

Jack nodded, glad that Maureen not only wore a Kevlar vest over her green wool bodystocking, but she also carried two Smith and Wesson revolvers on her gun belt, one on each hip. Plus she wore a smaller Viking sword on her back crossed with a steel-pointed javelin spear. Hunting knives adorned each thigh, brown leather straps holding them in place. What other weapons she might have hidden out of sight he knew not. Just that she was the one person among everyone that he knew would always cover his back.

“Onward.” He stepped forward and single-tapped the inner archway. It opened with a hiss.

Before him stood Howler the cheetah-leopard whose tan-furred body showed only leather carrying straps. It stood with a forward lean, as if about to spring into an attack. The Alien wore a silvery-looking long knife at his left hip, but carried no other weapons. The golden yellow eyes of a social predator who invited other social predators into his lair looked at Jack, then scanned his seven allies. The Alien’s gaze came back to Jack.

“Human, you must leave the . . . pellet guns with your suits. As I said earlier, your—”

“You
said
personal energy weapons could not be worn in your Gathering Hall. These revolvers are not lasers or energy weapons. No.”

Howler’s pink tongue protruded slightly, then its ears tilted forward. “My intent was clear. And these . . . revolvers expel large bullets that could break penetrate a wall and expose us all to vacuum. Or to water.”

“The revolver bullets are hollow points. Specially made for use on spacecraft,” Jack said as his allies spread to either side in a combat skirmish line. “They will not penetrate normal metal walls. I say again, no, I will not leave these personal arms behind.”

Howler hopped back in a move so fast Jack saw only a blur of legs. It gave him an Alien look, then turned and began hop-walking toward a hallway arch. No one else was around, the same yellow-orange light shown from the dome ceiling, and he chose to follow the Alien who had tried to debate words with a human.

Jack and his people followed Howler out of the crowded elevator tube that had taken them down, kilometers down, through the water ice shell that lay atop an ancient ocean. Or so Howler had said in reply to Ignacio’s questions, keeping his words to the minimum. It had been crowded, with eight humans, one Alien and the cold locker all riding down as if on top of a piston tube. But it made sense for any Alien habitat to be placed next to, or inside, the ocean of water that provided so many life, food and fuel elements needed by star-traveling people.

Howler gestured with a black spotted arm. “Behold our Gathering Hall.”

Before them stretched a giant room with a dome ceiling. The ceiling’s roof had clear skylights which showed the pale blue of water as illuminated by external lights. Glow panels between the roof windows illuminated the gymnasium-sized room with the yellow-orange light present in the Entry Dome. But what most took away Jack’s breath were the scores of Alien beings who stood, walked, hopped or waddled across the silvery metal floor. He saw the lion-hippo form of the Rizen people, the bipedal hyena form of the Yiplak, the panda-grizzly bear shape of the Gyklang, the Komodo dragon lizards of the Hackmot and the wolf-giraffe sleekness of the Nasen carnivores. Six or seven more species of equally varied shape could be seen, most clustered in their own group. The groups were located atop an elevated platform or within a shallow basin. As Howler made to hop-walk away, he snapped his fingers.

“Greeter Howler, where can I find Manager Menoma?”

The Alien who so resembled a living cheetah in his fast movements, long muscle lines and slenderness of body, stopped and looked back at them. His look was Alien, but seemed neutral. “Across the hall, at the green portal. The office of my . . . Manager is located there. If you survive your passage across the hall, knock on the portal. I suspect the Manager will enjoy tasting your elk meat.”

And before Jack could say more, the cat-like Alien hop-ran into the hall, avoiding cluster groups of Aliens as easily as an ice skater does curves on ice. “My people, cluster together, with weapons facing outward. Does anyone see an unoccupied basin or elevated platform?”

“Over there!” said Minna, pointing at a platform twenty meters away that was empty of Aliens.

“Move out. Quickly. But no running. And swords out,” Jack said, pulling Old Roy off his back and pointing it forward with both hands gripping it tightly.

Many feet sounded behind him as he led his group to the platform. They drew looks from two nearby Alien clusters, but neither of the clusters were people they had battled. Yet. The Aliens resembled the Aliens they knew only in having plenty of canines, talons, claws and hungry eyes showing.

“
Shogun
, you go up first!” Akemi said, her ancient
katana
blade drawn and its curved edge facing outward. “Minna and I will guard everyone’s backs while you gain the platform.”

Jack did as advised, choosing to jump in the one-gee gravity of the room. He landed with little sound. Moving quickly toward the center of the ten meter wide platform, he turned toward the interior of the hall where the largest number of Aliens were present. He detected intense looks from six groups, one of them being the Nasen wolf-giraffes. He had allowed two of their ships to survive and escape after their battle with him at 1993 FW Karla. He now began to wonder just how smart that had been.

Akemi and Minna moved to stand in front of him, acting as a shield against any Alien who tried to mount the meter high platform. To either side and behind him were Ignacio, Julia, Kasun, Maureen and Aashman. The thump of the cold locker behind him said their trade goods were safe in the middle of the round platform. No Alien in the cluster groups moved toward them.

“People, get out your water bottles, drink, eat some jerky or whatever, and restock your energy levels while we can.” Jack moved forward. “Minna, Akemi, that applies to you too. Ignacio and I will circle our group with swords out while the six of you drink and eat. Move!”

His women Hunters did not argue, instead slinging their swords and heading inward to join his four other allies in searching fanny packs for food and drink. With Old Roy pointed outward, its blade flickering with yellow-orange highlights, he walked sideways left, searching for any sign of a tiger pounce or cheetah streak from Aliens who were obvious social predators and carnivores. The range of body shapes and hide colors were wild, exotic, and as colorful as fifteen rainbows. He began to wonder if their human clothing colors did much to intimidate the predatory Aliens who surrounded him. A soft footstep sounded from behind him. One he knew.

“Maureen? I said—”

“Drink,” she murmured softly. “The squeeze bottle is behind your left shoulder.”

How kind of the woman to know he was right-hand dominant. Letting go of his sword with one hand, he reached back, felt the plastic bottle, grabbed it and put the tip to his lips. A squeeze, a second squeeze and he had enough. “Here. Thanks. Take it and finish your own food and drink.”

“As my captain commands,” came her musical voice.

A movement from the Nasen wolf-giraffe cluster drew his attention. Out of the seven Nasen clustered atop a platform similar in size to his, one Nasen jumped off the platform, landed on its four long legs, and trotted toward Jack. The creature’s yellow eyes fixed on him. Its white tufted tail stretched out as if to balance its gait. The red and yellow bands that encircled its lithe body flexed to muscles just under the skin. It stopped at the edge of the platform and lifted its carnivore-long head. Its two chest flexarms held a red bag. Purple lips opened.

“Do you Humans have items for trade?” it said in a throaty snarl.

“Yes we do. Ignacio, bring up the locker and Maureen’s backpack with the other items.”

Behind him the sounds of eating and drinking had stopped. No doubt every person behind him had sword, knife or razor-sharp stave held at the ready. Just because this Alien asked a normal question did not mean any of them would assume the words could not end in a sudden leap and sinking of teeth into human flesh. They had all seen the Rizen vidrecords. His Basque ally’s boots came closer, dragging the locker with one hand while, no doubt, his other hand held his Roman short sword.

“Here boss. At your left. Maureen, Akemi and Kasun are doing rear watch.”

“Good.” Jack did not look away from the yellow gaze of the Nasen alien. Nor did he lower Old Roy from where he held its double-bladed tip just a meter short of the Alien’s throat. “The cold box contains elk and cow meat from Earth. Not frozen, but cold preserved.” A purple tongue wetted the alien’s purple lips. “We also offer interactive games of combat, songs by ocean beasts we call whales, small blocks of iridium—”

“Spices. Do you posses the ‘hot sauce’ spice we have seen on your television broadcasts?” the Nasen asked. It lifted the red bag upward. “We offer gold and diamonds for any amount of such a spice. And for a recording of an interactive game of combat. Perhaps this game called Halo?”

How ancient were the television broadcasts this critter had watched? Whatever. “Yes to both requests. Ignacio, hand me a bottle of
Uncle Jim’s Hot Sauce
from New Iberia. And a CD of the first year Halo game.” He reached back with his left hand, felt the objects placed in his grip, then brought them forward. “Nasen, I will put the two trade items down at the edge of this platform. Then I will back away. You will approach, slowly, pick up the items, then deposit your red bag in payment. Understood?”

The yellow eyes fixed on him the way a lioness might measure the distance to a springbok. It blinked suddenly, long black eyelashes fluttering down, then up. “Understood. I withdraw now for you to approach.”

Jack did just that, keeping his eyes always on the Nasen with Old Roy pointed outward. Holding the sword one-handed was not easy. The steel was heavy in the hall’s one gee field. Carefully he put down the sauce bottle and the game CD, then stood up, gripped his sword with both hands and backed away a meter.

The Nasen cantered forward swiftly, its giraffe legs moving in a blur. Then it stopped at the edge of the platform. It put down the red bag, grabbed the sauce and CD with its flexarms, looked up at him, opened its purple lips to show long white canines and snarled. “My ship was one of those you spared. Your . . . tolerance was valued by me and my crew. So we choose now to trade, rather than enter Meat battle.”

Behind him Jack heard the movement of several people coming to stand behind and to either side of him. He shifted Old Roy so its tip was pointed just right of the Nasen’s head. “A wise choice. Behind me are my human pack. They hunger for Meat battle. But first we must see the Manager. Later, if you wish, we will trade elk meat for your eating. If desired.”

The Nasen whinnied like a horse. Though no horse ever resembled a wolf on giraffe-high legs. “Agreeable. Your wild animal meat is much desired among the competitors.” The Alien turned and cantered back to its platform, holding the sauce bottle and CD close to its chest. A slight tensing of its hind legs and it sailed through the air to land beside its six fellows.

“Too damn dangerous, that one,” muttered Maureen.

“My
shogun
, let my
katana
go on watch now. That encounter surely was not enjoyable.”

“Thank you Akemi.” Trying to untense his shoulders, Jack stepped back, turned, stepped over the cold locker and joined his fellows in the center of the platform.

Ignacio looked up from his floor seat, his short sword resting against his left shoulder. He stroked his mustache. “Hey boss, let’s see what’s in that bag. Okay?”

“Okay.” He dropped the bag to the floor, lifted Old Roy up and over his shoulder to its back scabbard, then crumpled down to a cross-legged sit on the metal floor. “Damn! Wish there was a beer in that cold locker!”

Maureen sat down opposite him as other captains sat nearby, or stood on perimeter guard. She lifted her thin black eyebrows. “Nicely done. But when do we head for the green portal over there. To see this Menoma? I’m guessing, but I doubt things will stay this stable for very long.”

Jack agreed. While one Alien group had chosen to trade with them, other Alien groups might simply decide to just attack and take the ice locker. Many social predators did just that when they saw a lesser predator make a kill. Stealing someone else’s food or kill was normal predator behavior.

“In ten minutes. Now, show me what’s in that bag.”

Ignacio lifted the red bag, unloosed its draw string, and turned it upside down.

Two gold plaques and a dozen diamonds spilled out. He saw yellow and pink diamonds among the more common white ones. And while the diamonds were in a natural state with no faceting, none of them were smaller than two carats. One looked five carat size. He looked up at Ignacio.