Chapter 1
I take a deep breath. It still has that new planet smell. ETP156 has been open a month and it’s crawling with all kinds of beings. ETP156 is formerly known as Earth and it’s the perfect place for felons who don’t want to be found.
I caught a tip Kos would be in the settlement this rotation so here I am scouting the place out. Unfortunate for me I walk smack into an officer of the Central Being Compound. His voice is rougher than his exterior, “We’ve been looking for you. The Commander wants to see you.” He smiles.
I take a brief look to his name tag and the stripes on his shoulder before addressing him, “Uh, Officer Rucso, I’m hot on a trail right now. Tell the Commander my apologies and I’ll catch up with him later.”
I take a side step to move on but so does the officer.
“I’m afraid I can’t. He demanded to speak with you personally.”
“I’m flattered really. But you see I have work to do. So you better get out of my way-” I shove him in the shoulders. His tall frame teeters before crashing hard against me, pinning me to the ground.
“Get. Off. Me. Now.” I feel my human suit pressing into my true form.
“The Commander gave me orders-”
“The Commander. The Commander,” I mimic him. “The Commander can go fornicate himself.”
The pressure on my back is lessened as the officer lifts me clean into the thin air of ETP156.
“You should watch your tongue,” he says giving me a shake. His human eyes are lite with frustration making the green iris seem alive.
“Maybe you should watch yours!” I squirm to free myself but the officer only tightens his grip. The words forming in my mouth will command the respect I deserve.
“My father was first General of the CBC Military. His name was Colk Neva. I have been tracking his murderer for the past month on this scum infested planet. He’s running free and you’re wasting my time. Now, if you please, Officer Rucso, I have a job to finish.”
As I suspected, my feet are firmly place on the ground. The officer’s face is contorted and confused. It leaves me curious what his true form is under the suit. Although crossing species isn’t uncommon, it can be truly faulty. There are even restrictions on some species because of their…qualities.
“I’m sorry for your loss. My planet sent a gift to yours, as he gave his life for us all.”
I slowly step away.
“Nevertheless, orders are orders. You of all people should understand.”
I duck as his large hand swings to grab my shirt. I see the anger roll off him like a cloud. I dart to the crowd of passing beings. I pick up the necessary items as I run past the stands of merchants. A cloak here, a rope there. I drop a few Drakkas at a corner stand while grabbing a brilliant colored food particle. A whole month on ETP156 and I have yet to learn all the items on it. It’s mandatory for every traveler to take the crash Informed Safe Travels (IST) course. It’s equivalent to one hour of ETP156 time. The IST runs as an automated program to cover the highlights of a newly opened planet. It’s taken the CBC five ETP156 years to clean the mess the human species left in the wake of their extinction.
I slip into a dark and deserted alley, pulling the hood of my cloak over my head to shadow my face. I tie the rope snuggly around my waist. A figure lingers in a crease between the buildings. Choosing a large vulture suit is not only ironic but fitting for the felon named Sür. He pulls out three vials from a hidden pocket with a feathered finger. Eagerly I try to swipe them but Sür dangles them just beyond my reach. He wags a feather at me.
“These cost me a great deal and a whole lot of trouble. I barely got out of that place with my hide.” He turns to reveal his missing tail feathers. I smile at his misfortune.
“Sür, I’m sure it’s a lovely story, maybe some other time, but I really need those vials.”
From the wicked smile on his beak I know it’s going to cost me half a paycheck for them. That’s what happens when I don’t do the dirty work. In any other case I wouldn’t have minded doing the dirty work. In fact, I enjoy it. It’s different this time around. I have a Commander breathing down my back waiting to deport me back to the CBC for “my protection”. I have officers on the street searching for me. I couldn’t risk getting caught, no matter how slim the chance might be. Stealing itself is harshly disciplined but that’s nothing compared to the thrashing I would get if I was caught these beauties.
The vials contain what’s called liquid nitrogen on this planet. On my home planet it’s called smorg and it’s quite refreshing to lie in. On ETP156, the supply is closely monitored and for a good reason. Smorg can be deadly to other alien species. It’s the equivalent of walking around, pointing a gun at everyone nearby. It’s also the weakness of my wanted felon Kos.
“How much” I flatly ask.
“Oh let me see…” Sür taps a feather to his beak, “Three thousand Drakkas” he smiles.
“Sür I don’t want to kill you, but you’re going to leave me with that choice.”
“Hold on. We both know it’s a fair price.”
“A fair price for the Tunnel Market.”
“But I’m offering them to you first.” He wiggles the vials at me.
“First? How about I kill you first?”
“Now what kind of friend would you be if you did that?”
“I wouldn’t. That’s the point”
“I know you have the pockets. Besides I need the extra for a new suit. Seems how I ruined this one for your job.”
I sigh and take the Drakkas from my pouch. I only give in to his ridiculous price because I could use Sür, and he won’t do me any good dead. Sür hands over the vials and crinkles the Drakkas in his feathered hand, wing, whatever.
“How about a few extra for a friend?”
“How about I just let you live and not take my money back.”
He backs away slowly as he tries to reassure me ‘that action isn’t necessary.’
“We never spoke. Got it.”
“Yes. Yes. I got it.”
Commotion coming from the market brings our attention to the end of the alley as a group of CBC officers are questioning a merchant. Hoyk. I shove Sür into the crease he came from. I squeeze in beside him.
“Make a sound and I’ll stuff you like those pictures in the IST,” I hush.
Sür visibly and audibly gulps before correcting me, “Those were turkeys. Completely different fowl.” He snubs his beak toward the sky.
I pull my trusty knife, just in case. The pistol would bring too much attention. I rest the knife against Sür’s elongated neck.
The sounds of the officers’ feet are growing closer as their thrumming echoes through the alley. Once they have quieted and the hustle of the market is all that’s left, only then do I wiggle my way out of the crevice.
I make sure to wipe the dust from my cloak with my pale hands. These humans were strange creatures, with only four limbs and two eyes. I feel limited in my human suit. In my true form I have six eyes and six limbs. Being extremely flexible gives me an edge when catching felons. I sigh and twist my neck to relieve me of a knot that’s forming in the back of my head. It’s from the stress. It always happens about this time into every job. Once in a great while will it take me longer than three ETP156 months to catch a felon, but those jobs usually involve the most travelling. Counting the travelling, I’m up six ETP156 months and still don’t possess my felon.
