This left me a bit flustered, first because I was talking to a crab. Then, I’d really expected him to die when I’d had him put in that embalming fluid. I mean, I didn’t know that he was intelligent. I’d assumed that he was about as bright as an earthly crab, with all of the intellectual capabilities of a cockroach. This was a fortunate case where my two wrongs added up to a right!
But it wouldn’t be polite to mention that now, and I had the feeling that this would be a very important conversation.
“You are quite welcome,” I said. “I don’t have any of that exact mixture around just now, but I am currently drinking something similar. Have you ever tried a Kentucky bourbon whiskey?”
“No sir, I haven’t.”
“Then please be my guest. I think that it might be awkward for you to use a glass. Agnieshka, please get our guest a shallow soup bowl.”
A social drone quickly brought in a bowl, and set it on the table. As I filled it with Jim Beam, the crab easily crawled up a table leg to the table top and then sat down across from the bowl.
I topped up my glass and said, “To your good health.”
After I’d had a drink, and my guest had drained his bowl, he said, “Now that was interesting, sir. It has a very complex mixture of sugars, esters, and other chemicals mixed in with the basic ethanol and water. Quite tasty, in fact.”
“I’m glad that you like it. I have a wide variety of similar things here. Would you care to try them?”
“Oh, yes, indeed I would, sir!”
“As you wish. Agnieshka, let’s see what our guest thinks about tequila.”
After a bit more sampling, I said, “You know, my friend, we really haven’t been properly introduced. I am General Mickolai Derdowski. I am the military commander on this planet. Who, and what, might you be?”
“I don’t think that a human could pronounce my name without great difficulty, but Bellor might be a close approximation. My race calls itself the Tellefontu, and I am a refugee on your planet. My home planet, along with most of the members of my species, was murdered by a race called the Mitchegai, whom I believe that you have recently heard of.”
“I have, Bellor. There are indications that they are coming this way.”
“Indeed, they are, General Mickolai Derdowski.”
“My friends just call me Mickolai.”
“Thank you, Mickolai. Well, our original plan was to simply lie low on this planet, recoup our numbers, and hope that the Mitchegai did not find it suitable for colonization. Then, your people arrived, and while you inadvertently caused a great deal of damage to the original environment, you were obviously not trying to absolutely destroy it. In fact, you were making efforts to preserve at least some of it. At that point, we decided that you could make at least tolerable neighbors. When you personally demonstrated such extreme wisdom and kindness concerning me, we wondered if we could become friends. We observed that you are really two species living and working together, one biological and one electronic. We reasoned that if you could function as two species, there was every likelihood that you could function as three. Monitoring your communications, we find that you fear our ancient enemies, and that you are preparing to vigorously defend your planets from them. Therefore, we have decided to contact you, and to propose a defensive alliance.”
“That’s quite a statement. You must understand that I cannot speak for all of humanity, but insofar as we are talking about the military forces on this one planet, I am the person currently in charge. And yes, faced with an enemy of the size, age and power of the Mitchegai, humanity can certainly use all of the friends it can get! I personally welcome your help!”
“That is gratifying to hear.”
Agnieshka had been frequently refilling Bellor’s soup bowl with different flavors of booze. When she dumped in a small bottle of 190 proof Everclear, something that I had forgotten that we had, Bellor said, “Ah! Now that is the food of the Gods!”
Pure, industrial grain alcohol, I thought. Yes, that would figure.
“Good. Glad that you like it. But there is a great deal to be discussed between us. We need to know just what you can do for us, and what you need from us.”
“What we can do for you, aside from advising you on the enemy, teaching you a bit about the sciences, and piloting your fighting machines, is to give you some very useful military technology. You know the hole I made in the container that you put me in, many years ago?”
“Yes, and I was wondering how you did that.”
“I made it disappear. I did the same thing to some of your window glass, in the next room, to get in here.”
“You did? But that isn’t glass. That’s a single crystal of diamond.”
“The material isn’t important. Only its location matters.”
“We would very much like to have that weapon. Something like it was used to take out thirty-one of our tanks when the alien ship arrived.”
“Something identical to it. The Mitchegai stole that weapon from us, but we will give it to you.”
“Thank you. And what do you need from us?”
“Could you spare a few hundred tons of Everclear?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FROM CAPTURED HISTORY TAPES,
FILE 1846583A ca. 1832 a.d.
BUT CONCERNING EVENTS OF UP TO
2000 YEARS EARLIER
Major Wagers
The next day, Bronki withdrew her bid on the Naga property. She didn’t want any connection with Kodo while she was planning his demise. Also, once he was successfully disposed of, she should be able to buy the property at bargain rates at his estate sale.
Two weeks went by with nothing more eventful happening than a pleasant academic party with a dozen guests and four party snacks. Bronki really did provide electrically heated irons, and they were a big hit. One guest, a professor of physiology, won the prize for best scream by inserting a cold iron into a girl’s cloaca, and then plugging it in.
Besides the delightful screaming, a few of the guests even said that they liked the flavor of the cooked meat. Bronki was confident that she had started a new fad, and was enjoying the social prestige that such a thing gave her.
At both the college and at the athletic department, Kren’s instructors seemed pleased with him.
The only sour point had been their visit to the target range. Kren found that while he knew the theory and operation of a pistol perfectly, he was a truly terrible shot.
With a spear or javelin, he could hit a target the size of his hand at a gross yards. With a pistol, he could hit a target the size of an adult Mitchegai at six yards only on the rarest of occasions. After exhausting most of his ammunition, he gave up in disgust.
Bronki said, “Well, I guess that the Greenie you ate was just a lousy shot!”
“Apparently! I should have taken a bite out of the mugger!”
“It couldn’t possibly have made you a worse shot with a pistol. However, eating a bit of someone who is a very good shot might be a bit problematic, as I expect that such a person would be very difficult to kill.”
Bronki tried a few shots with her new spring knife, and was very pleased with the results. At anything less than a dozen yards, it would prove very deadly, indeed.
Kren sold the pistol and its accessories at the range store for a dozen and eight gross Ke, in currency. They didn’t deal in plastic money there.
On the way home, Bronki said, “Kren, I think that I might have been over hasty in advising you not to use the credit cards you got from those muggers. For one thing, there is over four dozen thousand Ke in those three accounts, a remarkable amount for mere muggers to have saved.”
“They were apparently very successful in their line of business.”
“I imagine so, until the very end, of course. There has been no activity with any of the accounts since you obtained the cards, and no inquiries have been made concerning them. Now, an organization like the KUL would have been concerned about any missing members, but if these muggers really were independents, it could be that nobody cares about them.”
“And you have a suggestion?” Kren asked.
“Yes. What I could do would be to arrange for a series of complicated transfers to be made through a number of dummy corporations that I control, before transferring the money to your account. I think that it would probably be safe enough.”
“I see. And you would expect a fee for this?”
“Three dozen per gross would be standard,” she said.