Jason King: Agent to the Stars 1: The Enclaves of Sylox (4 page)

For years now, the Human developers had gone out of their way to make these massive, multi-hundred-home subdivisions into little slices of Earth-on-an-alien-world. The communities were all gated with live security; they maintained their own schools and grocery stores, in addition to rec centers, movie theaters, sports fields and more. In fact, if you ignored the presence of a second moon in the night sky, you could easily mistake the Enclaves of Sylox for any upscale community on Earth.

Oh, and there was also the incredibly bright swatch of stars in the night sky that came as a result of being so close to the Galactic Core. This served as a constant reminder to my clients that they weren’t in Kansas anymore.

So for the right price, I would personally suffer through a few extra days of leading these wanderlust souls through a short course in alien reality. By then, easily ninety-five percent of my customers were chomping at the bit for a little Earth-familiar cocoon they could crawl into and forget where they were.

This predictable routine happened with uncanny regularity, and the Wilson family would be no exception. In fact, I could already picture the Noreen II sitting in my hangar at the executive spaceport outside of the Zanzibar Enclave. The craft was the equivalent of owning a G4 Learjet back home – or at least when Learjet was still in business. But you get the point. The Noreen II was the jewel I would soon possess, and thanks to Mark Wilson and his lovely family, the commission from the transaction would make that possible.

That was if no one sabotaged my efforts. And the ‘no one’ I was referring to came in the form of the Wilson’s three children.

**********

I began to make my way through the alien crowd toward the lost-looking Jennifer Wilson, while Bill trailed alongside me, feeling some kind of license to do so as a friend and past client.

One of the concessions the Human developers made to receive the permits to build their communities was that ten percent of all housing had to be sold to natives or other members of the Union. The Council had originally wanted twenty percent, yet the negotiators – I had been part of the delegation – had successfully argued that Humans, in particular, needed a little more time and space to acclimate themselves to this new reality. Having a community with so many aliens roaming around could defeat the whole purpose of having the Enclaves in the first place.

Eventually, the Council relented, realizing that the technological level of the Earth, as well our cultural development, were unique among Union members. Unique in that we were more backwards and primitive than any other race to have ever been accepted into the community of alien worlds….

On that point, Jonk Limbor was right, when he said he saw no value in having Humans as members of the Union. I, too, had no idea what we were contributing. Earth’s location in space held no special strategic value to the Union, positioned as it was out in one of the six spiral arms of the galaxy. Also, our raw materials were more easily acquired from the billions of asteroids and uninhabited worlds throughout the galaxy. And we certainly weren’t contributing anything of a scientific nature. The aliens were light-years ahead of us in every respect.

I often equated our presence in the Union to that of an fourteen-year-old genius who suddenly finds himself on a college campus, most times feeling awkwardly out of place, and at others struggling to prove he belonged there.

Yet on a positive note, Humans had proven to be incredible builders, not only of housing units for our species, but also for commercial construction on the few worlds where we had received permission to build. Our structures were in demand, and there was a whole herd of Human builders, developers and real estate agents ready and willing to service that demand.

We had only been a member of the Union for less than fifteen years and were just now beginning to feel comfortable with the whole idea of alien worlds and civilizations. But surely, the aliens hadn’t come to Earth just so we could build three-bedroom, two-bath, ranch-style homes across the galaxy?

They wouldn’t do that, would they?

Chapter 4

Jennifer Wilson spotted me before I reached her, now focusing her attention on one of the few Humans she saw on the landing at that time of day. Her expression changed dramatically, from one of brow-furrowing concern, to that of immense relief.

We had video-chatted several times over the past six months, so I felt as though already I knew her. Still, I was a professional and as such I had to offer my most-professional presentation to my new, high-end customer.

“Mrs. Wilson, I’m Jason King of Galactic Realty and Relocation Service.” I flashed my brightest salesman’s smile. “I’m so glad to finally meet you in person.”

“Mr. King, please call me Jennifer,” she said, flashing her own bright smile. “After all the communications we’ve had, I think we can be on a first-name basis.”

“Then I insist you call me Jason.” I looked past the fetching blonde woman of forty-two and caught site of my nemeses – if that’s even a word. They came in the form of Heather, sixteen; Jonathan, nine; and Melissa, six. They were all huddled behind their mother, with the exception of Jonathan, who clung to a strikingly-beautiful woman with jet-black hair and eyes as deep as space itself. I’m sure my mouth had fallen open at the sight of Jennifer’s cousin, and it took me a moment to recover.

Although there were over forty-thousand Humans on Sylox, many of the women here were either married or too young for me. At thirty-six, I was finding it more difficult lately to find available dates on the planet; however, Jennifer’s cousin had just brought that gene pool to a fast boil.

Jennifer had mentioned that her cousin would be joining them on Sylox – temporarily – as she served a six-month internship at the Embassy; however, she had failed to include a picture of her in any of the correspondence. Now I wondered why?

I finally broke my gaze from the dark-haired woman, and was promptly embarrassed to see Jennifer staring up at me with an amused smile. “Jason, this is my cousin Miranda, Miranda Moore. I mentioned her in our emails. She’ll be staying with us while she’s here.”

I desperately tried to exude the most professional decorum I could muster, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

As a diversion I turned to Bill. “I’d like to introduce you to Minister Billork Kly Gon-Mok, of the Union Transit Service. He’s a friend and past client; he actually lives in the Zanzibar Enclave.”

Bill took a short hop forward. “I am honored to meet you, Mrs. Wilson,” he said with a bow. “I am actually a neighbor of Jason’s and we are both members of the same softy-ball team.”

I could see Jennifer Wilson trying hard to act nonchalant in the presence of the towering alien with the green skin, but she was having a hard time of it. “I’m pleased to meet you, Minister Billork … Gook; I’m sorry, but I’m terrible with names.”

“Perfectly acceptable; I am known simply as
Bill
to my friends and neighbors, which I hope to one day consider you both.”

Jennifer frowned slightly. “I find it fascinating that your kind would play soft … softball.”

“Jason introduced me to the activity, and it has been a most-exhilarating experience. He is quite the organizer of events within our community. It is a wonderful place to reside.”

Jennifer turned back to me. “You do recall that I want to live within the native community, and not in one of the Human Enclaves?”

“I do,” I said quickly. “I have six homes already selected within the city limits for us to see today. It’s a start, and hopefully next time we go out, Mark can join us.”

“With his new job, he’s pretty busy, but he has promised to join us on Saturday – or whatever they call Saturday here. But you can be assured that he’s given me full authority when it comes to finding us a home—”

“My name’s Jonathan – are you a real alien?” The tiny voice came from Jonathan Wilson. He had released Miranda’s hand and ran up next to the seven-foot tall alien. Now he stood with his mouth agape staring up at Bill’s green face.

“My friend Jonathan, I must correct you. Even though the Union built its capital on Sylox three hundred years ago, this planet is
my
home. I am a native. So you see it is
you
who are the alien here.”

“I’m not an alien; I’m a Human!”

“On Sylox, Humans are the aliens—”

“But we don’t stink.”

“Jonathan!”

“That is quite all right, Mrs. Wilson,” Bill said with a smile. He crouched down on his reverse-jointed legs until he was at the level of Jonathan’s head. He leaned in closer and flared his nostrils. “I’m afraid you do have a distinctive odor, young Human. It is not unpleasant, yet you do
stink
, as you put it.”

I watched as Jonathan’s mouth fell open even more and his eyes grew large, and then he slowly reached out his hand toward Bill’s face. “Can I touch you?”

“Jonathan, you’re being rude,” Jennifer said as she reached out to intercept Jonathan’s thin hand.

“It is quite acceptable, Mrs. Wilson,” Bill said. “I would be just as curious if my race had not had generations of experience with other species.”

Jonathan ran his fingers over the small knobs forming Bill’s skin. “They’re soft! I thought they’d be hard.”

“If they were hard, I would have difficulty speaking or making expressions – like this.” The alien opened his eyes wide and stretched out a toothy grin easily ten inches wide.

Bill then patted the precocious nine-year-old on the head and straightened up. “My friend, Jason King, I must attend to my duties. Mrs. Wilson – and family – I hope you find success in your search for a home. And if you do change your mind about living outside the city boundaries, I am sure you will find Zanzibar to be an acceptable substitute. I will see you for the game, Jason.”

Chapter 5

After Bill left, I was able to herd the Wilson family through the flow of pedestrian traffic on the landing and out the terminal building to my waiting van. The vehicle was large enough to accommodate the entire family, and as we climbed in, I made a conscious effort not to let my eyes linger too long on the beautiful Miranda Moore. If anything was going to happen between us, it would come later, after I completed my professional duties.

As always, my first priority was to make money, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that by coming off as some sex-crazed male who couldn’t think beyond his penis. However, in the presence of the alluring Miranda Moore, I was having a hard time maintaining the façade – the façade of not being a sex-crazed male who couldn’t think beyond his penis. And for that, I placed the blame squarely on Miranda – and her dark, mischievous eyes.

**********

Before leaving the vast parking structure at the terminal, I showed Jennifer pictures of the homes I’d selected for her on my datapad. None of them seemed to excite her very much, although she was polite enough to point out the positives in all of them. She did this more for the benefit of the children, even though I could tell she was disappointed.

“This one has a nice bathroom.”

Only half the homes we’ll see today have Human-acceptable bathrooms.

“The bedrooms in this one are really huge.”

They should be. The home was built for creatures resembling Minotaurs, standing six feet tall at the shoulders.

“This one is next to a park.”

Eventually, I’d have to let her know that it’s not so much a park … as a hunting preserve. And not hunting with guns, but with claws and teeth. It was a nice place to look at, but you wouldn’t want to go in there – ever!

We pulled out of the terminal complex and merged onto a familiar looking freeway –
ribbons
they were called here – with an abundance of traffic. Jennifer Wilson sat in the passenger seat next to me, while Miranda had taken a spot in the center of the wide seat behind me, flanked by young Melissa and the curious Jonathan Wilson.

The morose and pre-occupied Heather Wilson sat in the third row seat by herself, engrossed in the smartphone she’d barely pulled her attention from since first walking off the shuttle. I had no idea who she was communicating with. Even though alien telecom technology was beyond imagination, it still didn’t offer texting service across twenty thousand light-years. I knew her actions were just a way for the sixteen-year-old to deal with all she’d left behind on Earth. The move must have been especially traumatic for her.

The first home I had to show them was fifteen minutes away, so I passed the time getting Jennifer to tell me more about what she was looking for in a home. We’d been over this before, but it really looked like she needed to talk. Alien-Regret-Syndrome was beginning to set in.

“All I’m really looking for is a place that’s functional for us as Humans. As you know, I was in the Corps when I was younger. I ended up marrying another diplomat and that’s when I had my children. After the divorce, I met Mark when we were both in South Africa, and we’ve been married a little over a year now. I’m telling you this because I want you to know we’re not afraid of new things or new places.”

I nodded. “I understand, however this
is
your first assignment off-planet, isn’t it?”

“That’s right, but we’ve served in eight countries back on Earth, and have encountered a lot of strange cultures.”

I nodded again. I’d also spent much of my military career in foreign countries, but no matter how
alien
they appeared to be on the surface, the one thing they all had in common was that they were populated by other Humans. They may dress differently, speak a different language, and even have a different skin color, but they were all Human.

What Jennifer Wilson and her family were about to experience went far beyond anything they could expect from internet searches or even possibly running into a few aliens back on Earth. Even the space station where they had come from this morning was segregated, mainly by gravity and atmosphere requirements. The half-hour drop in the shuttle to the surface – squeezed in next to a myriad of other creatures – had been their first real encounter with what was to come.

Just wait until they witness first-hand how some of these aliens live within their homes. From years of experience, I carried a ready supply of barf-bags with me at all times, just in case.

The next few hours would be an eye-opening immersion course in alien cultures, consisting of a mixture of species that had spent hundreds of years interacting with one another. Humans were new on the scene, and we still had a hell of a lot to learn.

**********

I saw Miranda looking at me through the rearview mirror; her dark eyes locked on mine and wouldn’t let go. Only Jennifer’s exhalation at a near-collision with an alien truck-like-thing snapped me out of the trance.

Hell, I guess there’s no avoiding it.

“So Miranda, you’ve come a long way for an internship, haven’t you?”

She flashed a brilliant smile at me, made even brighter by the bronze tone of her skin. She was a total contrast to her blonde-haired, fair-skinned cousin. “I suppose so,” she said, “but I just graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in Galactic Affairs, so I’m really looking forward to it. I’ll be at the American Consulate.”

“
Galactic Affairs
; you can get a degree in that now?”

“It’s a new specialty, and I was in one of the first graduating classes at Long Beach State. The Consulate doesn’t know exactly where to put me – not yet – but I’m sure they’ll find a good place. After all, I come cheap.”

“If you need any help finding your way around, just let me know. I have a lot of friends at the Embassy, and it’s all part of the service.”

Damn, if that didn’t sound like some blatant come-on, then I don’t know what would!

I quickly turned my attention back to Jennifer before Miranda could respond. “I understand you’ll be staying at temp quarters in the Compound until you close on your home.”

“That’s right. I haven’t been to the Compound yet, but I’m told it’ll be all of us packed into a two bedroom apartment. Miranda’s getting a small studio of her own.”

“I wish they’d just let us stay there,” Heather Wilson said from the backseat, speaking for the first time.

“We’ve been over this before, Heather,” Jennifer said impatiently. “There’s no room for long-termers.”

“But then we’ll have to be bused to school.”

It was now my turn to offer some insight. After all, it was all part of the service – just like hitting on the hot cousin. “You’ll be going to either the Embassy school or out to one of the Enclave schools, depending on where we find you a home.”

Jennifer looked at me. “So you don’t have to live in the Enclaves to go to a community school?”

“They frown on it, but legally you can’t be turned away. It’s all part of the CC&R’s – excuse me: the Covenants, Conditions and Restrictions.”

“We’ve owned homes before, Jason. I know what CC&R’s are.”

So, it’s already come down to this?

As a way of feeling more in-control of her rapidly shattering reality, Jennifer Wilson was going to exert her so-called knowledge and expertise over
me
. Yes, she may have bought and sold a few homes in her lifetime, but I’ve done hundreds. So no matter how much she believed there was an equivalency in our respective experience, she was sorely mistaken. I tried hard not to smile, something that would have definitely made our working together that much more difficult.

“I apologize; of course you have.” I feigned my most sincere smile. “I didn’t mean to talk down to you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she said, accepting my apology – kind of – while also confirming that she felt I had.

Just then I caught sight of Miranda Moore again in the mirror. Her eyes were laughing, not at me but at her cousin. I sent her a wink. And then much to my surprise – and relief – she winked back.