Extinction (22 page)

Partners were chosen mostly for
what their DNA could offer and partly for emotional reasons. Trizites didn’t
have sex but the experience was still pleasurable. They had soft spikes
surrounding their eyes that when rubbed in the correct way, felt extremely
wonderful and allowed the receiving pouch in their abdomen to open. The donor
then released their seed into the water so it could float into the pouch. Once
in the pouch, the material mixed with special stem cells that eventually grew
into embryos. One or two embryos would be made and delivered about five months
later.

During the last month or so of
incubation, the parent would find a place to nest. The nest needed to be in a
safe area that could be protected from ocean predators but also in an area that
was rich in food for the extremely hungry kids that were about to be born.
Unfortunately, areas rich in food were also rich in predators, which made
safety very difficult at times.

After the birth, the new family
spent the next several months bonding while the younglings were taught basic
survival skills. Before the Trizites became a more advanced civilization, the
family would spend much more time in this first phase of life in order to make
sure the kids could survive on their own if anything happened to their parent.
However, in the new age of things, they spent very little time in the nest
before returning to civilization. The kids would be taken back to the nesting
area several times a month to work on their skills but the old ways weren’t as crucial
to survival as they once were.

Murgag had been honored more than
once by being asked to donate but the one time his body told him he was ready
to receive, he passed up the opportunity because he just didn’t feel ready. His
parent had been disappointed but not upset; after all, the parent had passed up
their first procreation opportunity also, but had used the next two opportunities
to have children. Murgag wasn’t sure whether he would ever feel ready. The fact
that he was looking at potential nesting places made him realize that if he
just stopped thinking and fretting over it, he would probably be giving in the
next time his procreation cycle came around.

Murgag reached his extraction
point and the boat that was waiting for him. After climbing on board, he
received cheers from his comrades and a kiss on the cheek from his handler,
Martha. Her lips brushed up against his spikes and sent a pleasurable chill
down his scales. Trizites had absolutely no sexual compatibility with any other
known species, so Murgag assumed the kiss from Martha was friendly rather than
suggestive.

Martha always seemed to have a
soft spot for Murgag, in fact, she was the one who gave him his
human-pronounceable name. It was a play on words and an inside joke that no one
but Martha and Murgag found funny.

The boat sped away into the night
with its occupants, completely unaware that it was followed. The pursuers were
using a local species of whale as their pursuit vehicle. The Trizites hanging
on to the whale couldn’t talk with the species of this planet but their genetic
similarities along with the inherent empathic abilities of Trizites let them
urge the whale to do their bidding.

Both parties reached the same
destination within minutes of each other. Murgag got off the boat with his
fellow conspirators and walked into town with them. Their pursuers also went in
to town but not before sending their location and status update to their
superiors. It seemed as though everyone was going to get to relax a little
before the events waiting to unfold took place later in the evening.

Murgag ate dinner with his
friends and decided this planet would not make a good nesting ground; the local
seafood was absolutely horrible. The food aside, he was having a great night
and feeling rather pleased with their accomplishments. Once they left the
planet, the device would do its job and they would be on to their next target.
Life was good.

~

Murgag was awakened by harsh
vibrations resonating through his sleeping tank. The vibrations were
unmistakable to anyone who had ever experienced an explosion under water; the
apartment was under attack. Murgag tried to jump out of the tank but never had
the chance; at least three other Trizite hands were pulling him out and hitting
him repeatedly at the same time. He wasn’t completely unconscious but he was close
enough that he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore. He was barely able to
register one of the attackers say, “This is the one we need alive. Kill the
rest.”

~

Murgag felt the dry abrasive dirt
hit his face and chest and he was instantly awake. A fairly large and
intimidating Trizite was standing in front of him with a now empty bucket. A
slight smirk was rolling across the abductor’s face and his spikes were turning
to a purplish hue, highlighting his smugness with a hint of contempt.

“Why are you doing this? Please
let me go”, Murgag pleaded, trying his best to make his spikes’ color match his
words. Extensive training had allowed him to alter their color and to also
block other empaths from feeling his true state of mind. The problem was, both
tasks took a supreme amount of effort and he wasn’t in that great of condition
right now.

“Oh, please”, the captor moaned. “Do
you really think you can fool me? Your spikes tell me everything I need to
know. If you really want to play this game, I’m willing to spend the next
twenty minutes showing you all of the evidence I have, including photos and
video surveillance. Most of the evidence shows you being an eco-terrorist.”

Murgag pulled limply against his
bonds. “Me! The terrorist! I am not the one destroying the ocean and all of its
inhabitants on this planet!”

The captor smiled. “Fantastic. I
am so pleased that we will not be wasting any more time trying to convince each
other of who I know you are and who you want me to believe you are.”

“As long as you are pretending to
be civil, could you please fill your bucket there with some water and rinse me
off?” Murgag’s skin was a combination of scales and smooth skin. The two worked
together to create a sleek, fast, and maneuverable swimming platform. Throwing
dirt on a Trizite would dry them out and get particles under their scales,
which could be extremely painful if left untreated.

“Of course I can. We’re not
barbarians here; we just wanted to get your attention right from the onset.”
The captor made a slight hand gesture to one of his cronies standing in the
back of the room.

A moment later, the crony poured
refreshing water all over Murgag’s head. The water washed away most of the dirt
but there was still a fair amount of the dirt up under some of his chest
scales. He also felt and tasted something familiar in the water.

“Has it been that long since
you’ve been home, brother?” The captor made another signal and was brought two
glasses of water. The first he kept and the second was brought to Murgag’s lips
by the crony.

“Go ahead and drink, brother; the
water is from our home.” He took a long drink himself and then regarded the
glass as though it held the most prized treasure in the universe. “A little
taste of home makes these backwater planets bearable.”

On an emotional level, Murgag
wanted to be defiant and not drink the water or drink it and then spit it back
at his kidnappers. The logical part of his brain knew that it was more
important to keep his strength up and take whatever they offered that would
help that agenda. He needed his strength in order to survive, to defend
himself, to attack and escape when the time came. So he drank. And it was the
best water he had had in a very long time.

“Why”—” Murgag began but was
suddenly cut off.

The captor held his hand up in an
obvious gesture for silence. “Please. It will be so much easier and quicker if
you just let me explain everything to you rather than go through random questions,
some of which I would have no intentions of answering anyway.”

He took another drink of water
before continuing. “I work for a corporation that is trying to do business on
this planet, a business that you and your friends are trying to disrupt. I know
that you planted an explosive device somewhere on our pipeline and to be frank,
we have no idea where it is. I also know that per your group’s MO, the device
is set to explode approximately forty hours after you leave the planet. Your
departing flight left the planet six hours ago. We have approximately
thirty-four hours until the device explodes and disrupts our operations. A
minor disruption, to be sure.”

“If you know all of that, then I
guess the only thing you want from me is the bomb’s location.” Murgag motioned
for another drink of water and the glass was put to his lips.

“That’s exactly right. We will
make it worth your while if you do. You already have something that the rest of
your group doesn’t: your life. We would be happy to add money to that already
generous gift.” He pulled his chair closer to Murgag and leaned in, almost as
though they were conspiring together in this little escapade. “I’m not going to
hurt you. I could try torture, but I honestly don’t think I have enough time to
get the answers I need. So the truth will have to suffice; I will pay you and
free you if you tell me what I need to know. If you don’t, I will simply kill
you.”

“Then I have nothing to say. Go
ahead and kill me. Try to find the bomb on your own.” Murgag was trying to work
his bonds, hoping they might be loose enough to give him at least a fighting
chance.

“I said I wouldn’t torture you. I
never said I wouldn’t torture your family.” He then held out a datapad that
showed Murgag’s parent and two grandchildren. The background in the image was
the local planetarium in Murgag’s home city. He knew that his parent had taken
the kids to the science fair at the planetarium last week; the image was recent
and not doctored.

“If the disruption would be
minor, as you put it, then why go to these lengths?” If they had that photo,
they must have been watching Murgag and his particular cell for quite a while.

The captor smiled. “A minor
disruption to a multi-trillion dollar intergalactic company is a billion-dollar
disruption. Paying you half that is much more beneficial to them. It keeps the
pipeline running, which makes the investors happy. It means that certain key
people don’t lose their jobs because of the security breach. It means that we
don’t potentially lose employees in the explosion or the repair effort.”

The last sentence made Murgag
roll his eyes and the captor inched closer, now obviously a little upset. “You
don’t think we care about lives, do you? I think your track record shows that
we, in fact, care more about lives than you do. Our investigation shows that
you have been directly responsible for thirteen deaths. Our employees, our
friends, our family.”

“Those people were destroying
planets, just like this one! How many lives are taken every day by your
company’s operations here? As I swam through the ocean, I could feel the death
and the sickness. I could see the ocean life looking withered and tired. I
couldn’t even feed while I was out there. I didn’t trust the fish around me
would be safe.”

The captor smiled. “You talk
about saving the ocean life and in the same breath you talk about eating the
local fish. That doesn’t sound too magnanimous to me.”

“I might expect that comment from
a human, but not a brother of the sea. You know it’s different. We eat to live
and we don’t kill for fun or profit. It’s the natural order of life. A local
predator could have eaten me and I would’ve felt no malice towards it and
neither would have my family. Because that death is natural. That death is the universe
working. You are killing an entire planet, for money.”

“Have you ever seen a homeless
sentient?” The Trizites didn’t have homeless people. If a Trizite didn’t want
to work, they could always return to the ocean, or one of the many oceans their
people owned throughout the Coalition, and survive in the wild.

“I find it interesting when I see
a human holding a sign that reads ‘Will work for food.’ Don’t we all?”

“Your point?”

“If we relocated all of the
workers to this planet and allowed them to live off of the local population,
they would kill the same amount of fish that we are with our business. Instead,
they are working for money to buy food. They are working for food. And shelter
and family and really, life in general. Unless every sentient being suddenly
became a vegetarian, we will always kill animals to feed ourselves, whether the
killing is directly or indirectly done.”

“It’s not the same and you know
it. And here I thought you said you weren’t going to torture me. Listening to
this crap is worse than being beaten.” Murgag sighed heavily.

“That sigh makes me think you
have come to a decision.” The captor leaned back in his chair but purposely kept
from looking too smug.

“I have.” Murgag wasn’t sure whether
his captor would really release him once he gave up the information, so he had
a plan to make sure that at least some good came of it. “I want to know the
exact amount of money you are offering. From there, I will decide how to have
it divided among several accounts. Once I see the money transferred to those
accounts, I will tell you where the device is.”

“Agreed.” He now let the smugness
set in. “Do you see how easy that was?”

Once the numbers were given to
Murgag, he gave his captor the division of assets. “Five percent goes to my
parent. Fifteen percent goes to the families of the people you killed from my
team. The rest of it goes to the Galactic Oceanic Preservation fund.”

The captor laughed. “Well played,
my friend. We will be endowing our biggest lobbying competition. Well done. But
I’m curious, nothing for you?”

Murgag just shrugged. “I honestly
don’t think you’ll let me live after I tell you where the bomb is. And if you
do, I can take a small portion from my parent to get started again. Maybe go
back to school or something.” A lie. He was going to escape or die trying.