13.
 The four men were an indistinct shadow blocking the gegenschein of streetlights outside Korinta and Sparto’s door. They were a dark blob that sort of rocked back and forth once or twice, gathering energy, before she heard the door kicked in and then saw the blaze of silent weapons fire directed into the room. Clever, she thought as tears came to her eyes, and she lowered her face into her hands and wept. The Nurturing Bureau of Interference had been defeated in its efforts to keep a key sector of this galactic arm neutral so its people could continue to grow into a powerful race worthy of membership in the civilized community of worlds.
After blazing away into the room, the four nitwits uttered a cheer of accomplishment and rumbled back along the deckway and down the stairs to tell their superiors of their accomplishment in killing an empty bed.
“Hey!”
She jumped, rolling around and pointing the shotgun.
In the face of Rodney Soltan.
Who put a finger on his lips and said “Shh!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I was following you. What are you?”
“A woman.”
“And a man.”
“There is no time for exobiology lessons,” she whispered.
“You people are so incredibly cool,” Soltan whispered. He produced an old .38 police special. “My grandfather’s. He was a detective in Los Angeles years ago. I came to try and help you.”
“Do you know what’s going on in there?” she asked.
“Area 51?”
“You idiot.” She explained as quickly and briefly as she could. He got the part about the syndicates meeting and dividing this part of the local galactic sector between them, but he didn’t get the part about Sparto and Korinta on the first try.
“You mean you’re him? He’s you?”
“We are two different beings sharing one physical host,” Korinta said. “People, you would call us. We both sleep at the same time, but he gets half of the wake time, and I get the other half. We also happen to be man and wife in our own native terms, which are a bit different from yours.”
“This is the most exciting night of my life,” Rodney said. “I knew it! There are aliens running around, and I have alienated my family, my friends, even an old girlfriend or two, and it turns out I’m right.” Tears streamed down his face. “Now I wish I were wrong.”
“You aren’t wrong. Area 51 is hooey, but it’s been a good cover.” She explained as briefly as she could about how NBI agents had deflected interest in real aliens by pointing to all sorts of false and contradictory evidence that led nowhere, making the saucerologists look foolish.
“I have been following you ever since you got here this week,” Rodney said.
|
Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads, and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).
|
TOP
|
MAIN
Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
|
