Insective (Episode 8): The Conclusion of the New SF Noir Serial by Mark Laporta
Case Files of Rolkahr Dholztra, Kuzdrohna Department of Public Safety
[Editor’s Note: Read Episode 1, here.]
The brutal Belanthrese attack on the Nolatrid homeworld continued to rage across town and countryside, while the waterways stayed relatively calm. Since the dawn of orbital warfare, aquatic battleships. submarines and aircraft carriers had become as obsolete as the humans’ ancient cavalry divisions.
Not content with the damage already inflicted, the enemy had now launched a comprehensive ground-based assault. While major government facilities, roads, bridges and dams were hit hardest, residential areas weren’t spared. Across the planet, desperate citizens flocked to municipal shelters, only to find many of them already compromised.
By vastly underestimating the scope and intensity of the Belanthrese battle plan, Nolatrid military had been caught flat-footed. Only in the last few hours had homeworld forces begun to rally, by winning a major skirmish on the outskirts of Kuzdrohna, the capital city. But it would take a lot more than that to gain the upper hand, not least because, by then, the invaders had broken the Nolatrid spirit.
At the relocated, underground HCBI headquarters in Pelintherash, however, the dedicated agents refused to give up hope. The only demoralizing point was the disappearance of Detective Dholztra, who hadn’t been heard from since before the agency’s flying bunker had touched down the previous day. Inside a secure conference room, Agent Grelek pounded all four of his fists into the large, shiny table around which he, Jalinoor and Imogen were seated.
“Should have picked him up on our way out,” he said.
“Not your fault,” said Jalinoor. “Deputy Director Lotrianka insisted we head here directly.”
Greleck snorted.
“That’s the last order I take from that pea-brained chrysalis,” he said. “The worst of it is, we don’t have a crumb of intel on the Detective’s whereabouts.”
A disturbance outside the conference room made the world-weary HCBI agent yank the door open. From the threshold, he saw a junior agent named Rhethalaz being subdued by a uniformed security guard.
“You better have a good explanation for this racket,” he said.
“Agent Grelek,” said the young female, “It’s the robotic unit … “Celia” … it just walked into your office and started talking. I wanted to tell you immediately, but this idiot wouldn’t let me in.”
“Guard’s just doing his job,” said Grelek. “Let her go, OK? Why didn’t you comlink me?”
“Our secure channel may be compromised,” said Rhethalaz. “The Deputy Director….”
“Never mind that,” said Grelek. “Where’s the unit now?”
Panting, Rhethalaz pointed down the corridor to Grelek’s office, and Grelek called out to Jalinoor and Imogen. The three of them raced off, following her lead. If “Celia” were talking again, that could mean only one thing.
“Detective!” said Grelek, the moment he entered his office
It had taken a few grueling hours, but Dholztra had eventually trudged far enough into the desert to escape the electromagnetic interference generated by Halfoorn’s high-tech underground lair. So when his implant finally connected to “Celia,” his voice sounded weak, distracted and less than fully coherent. Yet with a few grunted phrases he made the main points clear.
“Still alive?” asked Imogen, her voice an odd mix of consternation and, truth be told, relief.
More to the point, Dholztra conveyed the startling news that Halfoorn had stolen his very consciousness and pressed it into service.
“I’m afraid this is it,” he murmured through the robotic unit. “That maniac knows everything now.”
“On the contrary,” said Grelek. “We know everything. You’ll be able to predict Halfoorn’s every move. But that can wait. Just keep the link open so we can find you.”
“Don’t … waste … time,” said the unit. “Find coordinates. Destroy.”
Grelek refused to hear that. What Dholztra didn’t realize, was how extensive the Belanthrese assault had become. With almost half the population on the run, destroying Halfoorn would be meaningless until they could turn the tide militarily.
“No way to know if this Halfoorn is the last one,” said Grelek. The wary agent figured they might only learn the true identity of their enemy when they defeated him. Meanwhile, with help from the HCBI’s crackerjack cyber tracking unit, the agency had homed in on Dholztra’s coordinates. On Grelek’s orders, a rescue team consisting of a Special Ops squad, a field doctor and an emergency medical team were dispatched to bring him in.
They arrived not a moment too soon, to find the miserable detective cowering in the faint shadow of a sand dune that the wind had piled up only hours before. Dehydrated, trembling and in abject terror, he seemed to be engaged in a vigorous conversation with … well that wasn’t at all clear.
“Why should I believe you?” the field medics heard him say as they laid him on a stretcher. A moment later, he’d passed out. Once onboard the armored lander that Grelek had sent for him, the med team set to work pumping the exhausted detective with fluids. At the same time, they carefully removed every trace of the burning sand that had scarred his exoskeleton almost beyond recognition.
Gradually, on the four-hour flight to Pelintherash, Dholztra’s outlook improved, until he was able to sit up, enjoy a light meal and answer questions. Though the lander’s skilled pilots made every effort to avoid the worst battle zones, the areas not yet affected by intense fighting were dwindling fast. More than once, the fragile Nolatrid winced at a jolt from the resulting turbulence.
Now that he was awake, the weary detective’s strange inner dialogue with a phantom conversationalist resumed. The field medics shook their heads at what they assumed were early signs of brain damage. Had they known the truth, however, it’s doubtful they’d have been any more reassured.
Fact was, the voice Dholztra now responded to was none other than his own. That is, the copy of his consciousness that Halfoorn had made the day before. What the besotted tyrant had failed to take into account was the control chip the HCBI had installed in Dholztra’s brain, so he could control “Celia.” By failing to remove the chip, Halfoorn had allowed his brainwave mapping system to make an exact emulation of the detective’s remote link.
As a consequence, Duplicate Dholztra, now embedded in Halfoorn’s globe-spanning AI, could reach out across vast distances and communicate directly with the original wetware in the detective’s brain. And, as it turned out, Duplicate Dholztra was a bit of a wise acre.
Come on, Rolkahr, it was saying into his weary mind. Of course you can trust me. I’m you.
“Really?” said the detective. “I’d never work for Halfoorn, no matter what he did to me.”
Exactly, said the duplicate. That’s why I’m contacting you … me.
“Forget it,” said Dholztra. “You just want to earn my trust so I’ll tell you our strategy.”
You don’t get it, said the duplicate. I already know everything you know, the second you do.
“The implant!” said Dholztra. “I’ll get it yanked out. Then where will you be?”
Totally under Halfoorn’s thumb, said the increasingly life-like voice. Without you, I’ll go pure evil. You gotta help me, Rolkahr.
“Leave me alone!” Dholztra shouted and was startled by the sound of Grelek’s voice coming over the lander’s intercom.
“What’s going on up there, Detective?” asked Grelek. “The medics tell me you’re ranting like a psychotic bark beetle. You gotta snap out of it. We need you.”
“That’s the problem,” said Dholztra. “Everybody needs me — even me … I mean the copy of me that Halfoorn made. Turns out it can speak to me through my “Celia” implant.”
“Think of the intel we could get out of your … your clone,” said Jalinoor.
“Please,” said Dholztra, “it can hear you. So don’t get insulting. Thing is, I don’t know if I trust Detective Dupe. Hey, I know, let’s give him a target to eliminate.”
“Risky,” said Jalinoor. “We can’t blow up something that we couldn’t possibly know about, without giving away our secret weapon.”
Still, the idea was intriguing, in that even a temporary setback for the enemy would buy them some time. But might there be a more productive use of this bizarre strategic windfall?
“We still don’t know the status of LunarOne,” said Grelek. “If the Admiral’s only in lock-up, we might be able to get her forces operative again. That’d be worth a thousand planet-side targets.”
“What do you think, Dupe?” Dholztra asked his cyber copy. ”Talk through ‘Celia’ now, so everybody can hear you.”
A split second later, Grelek, Jalinoor and Imogen saw “Celia” spring to life again in Grelek’s office.
“I’ll see if I can enter their systems,” said Duplicate Dholztra. “I know Halfoorn has a direct link somewhere — but LunarOne is the lizards’ mess. I’ll have to tap into their system and … yeah, I’m in. You’re in luck, Pal. The lizard leader figured LunarOne was too useful to destroy. Same for its leadership. Admiral Nethrez and the senior staff are all locked up in stasis chambers.”
Imogen’s eyes welled up at the thought of so many potential casualties.
“And the … the crew?” she asked.
According to the cyber clone, the rest of the LunarOne force had been pressed into service by blackmail. One false move and the Admiral’s stasis chamber would be flushed out of the nearest airlock. Meanwhile, the Belanthrese kept the base on red alert at all times.
“Much as I’d like to break the Admiral out,” said Grelek, “I don’t see how you can do it without getting the base personnel killed. Nobody wakes up easy from stasis, especially after all this time. She wouldn’t be battle-ready for hours.”
“Way ahead of you, Agent Grelek,” said the duplicate. “I’ve already got a file started on that nanobot weapon you told us about. Kid stuff. I can upload it to the Belanthrese command center on LunarOne anytime. The lizards will be cold — and out cold — pronto.”
“Think you can do all that without being detected?” Dholztra asked his other self.
The simulacrum snorted. Halfoorn, it turned out, was quite the hedonist.
“The main reason he wanted to upload our brain was so he could indulge himself more,” said the duplicate. “Right about now, he’s probably enjoying his second helping of … well, you know what I mean. The guy’s insatiable. That’s why it seemed natural to add a few … additives … to his water supply. ”
“Then let’s act fast,” said Grelek. “No matter how far gone he is, he’ll come up for air at some point. I say go.”
“Me too,” said Jalinoor. Imogen nodded.
“Let us know the minute the lizards are out,” said the detective. “Let’s hope Halfoorn stays under the influence until they are. But, hey … what’s up with that mystery fleet I keep hearing about?”
“You sitting down?” asked the duplicate.
The latest intel showed a revived Earth fleet closing in on the Nolatrid solar system, with a series of risky, short-range spacefolds. From there on out, it was hard for Dholztra and the rest to tell whether time had sped up or their frame of reference had downshifted to a different plane of consciousness. Though they had no idea of the humans’ intent, the addition of another player to this high stakes poker game was a wild card no one could ignore.
“What if the humans have bought into Halfoorn’s phony promises?” asked Dholztra.
“Oh, I doubt that,” said Imogen.
“How can you be sure?” asked Grelek.
“I can’t — except my father used to tell me about Earth history,” said the human female. “Especially on one of our traditional holidays. You know, like the Fourth of July.”
“The what?” asked Dholztra.
“Never mind,” said Imogen. “Dad used to tell me about a time, five hundred cycles ago, when a guy like Halfoorn had his own insane ideas about creating a “master race” of genetically perfect specimens. Would have destroyed the whole planet if they hadn’t stopped him.”
“Destroyed … how?” asked Grelek.
“Dad said his scientists came this close to developing nucleonics,” said Imogen. “Anyway, I’ll bet you a million credits that EarthGov was ready to sign up with Halfoorn, until he explained his genome remapping scheme. If he showed them a holovid of … of Nyles … they would’ve seen their old enemy had come to life again.”
“It’s like sentience has this sick joke buried in it,” said Jalinoor. “Just when you think you’re close to evolving, Reality pulls you back into the muck.”.
“Yeah,” said Imogen. “And don’t get me wrong. The leaders of the Nolatrid invasion weren’t any better. Don’t know how my father got sucked into that. That’s why I’m not positive these new human ships won’t support Halfoorn after all. Craters, what makes evil people so persuasive?”
“Because anybody who can imagine the future is scared by it,” said Dholztra. “Too many unknowns, right? So when somebody says they have all the answers, it’s comforting. Besides, the way life works, it’s easy for average folk to feel they don’t get a fair shake. Guys like Halfoorn know exactly what we want to hear. That’s how they get us to look the other way, until they’ve destroyed our freedoms.”
“Well not this time,” said Grelek. “Maybe we can’t change the sentient condition, but sure as water’s wet, we’re gonna stop this nut job. Dupe? How soon before we can patch into the LunarOne comsystem?”
“Oh,” said Dholztra’s quantum clone. “You wanted me to wait? The lizards are already dropping like flies. I told the operatives not to touch the thermostats and to get their officers out of stasis right away.”
“Good work,” said Dholztra. “Can you pull the same stunt on the entire Belanthrese fleet?”
“Sorry, me, I gotta go offline for a while,” said the clone. “The First Citizen’s waking up. Good luck.”
Now the fate of the Nolatrid system and the lives of trillions of peace-loving citizens across three galaxies turned on the initiative of a moonbase-full of groggy military operatives. Yet to their credit, they swung into action immediately, by dispatching the bulk of their assault force to Nolatre and engaging the Belanthrese space perimeter with terrific force.
Yet it was, as the saying goes, too little too late. While Admiral Nethrez exhibited tactical brilliance on all fronts, the focus of the battle was now on the planet’s surface, where billions of innocents were under threat of mass extinction. Nolatrid forces battled on bravely, but were outnumbered by as much as three to one in some locations. Despite a few lucky breaks, thanks to Duplicate Dholztra, it looked as if the end of Nolatrid independence — and even, perhaps the entire Nolatrid species — were just over the next horizon.
Against this background of despair, the arrival of the human ships came as an even deeper blow.
Imogen’s second-hand knowledge of human history notwithstanding, there was no way to know what impact they might have on the situation. That is, until two of their lead ships fired two halves of a massive positron torpedo at a Belanthrese battle cruiser that was parked in geostationary orbit. The halves joined each other mid-trajectory and annihilated the enemy ship faster than the average Nolatrid could inhale. The fiery explosion lit up the afternoon sky for a full minute.
From there on out, the fighting escalated to unheard of levels of devastation. Bridges collapsed, roads buckled, communication towers snapped and the terrain was beginning to take on the deadly pallor of an airless moon. The sight of the humans’ early victory heartened the Nolatrid forces and encouraged them to rally against the odds. But though his Belanthrese confederates had been blindsided, Halfoorn himself had another hand to play.
Across the planet, on all eight continents, a series of strategically placed sliding doors opened up in the crust. Out of them streamed wave after wave of severely mutated male human clones. They quickly assembled into a planet-spanning army of hulking soldiers clad in dense body armor.
Worse, SWARM’s heavily shielded central AI confirmed that each soldier was equipped with advanced-design cyborg implants. No wonder they immediately demonstrated an ability to target their weapons with superhuman accuracy. They fought like demons and within hours had commandeered nearly every major Nolatrid spaceport. Soon enough, thanks to the mutants’ relentless pounding, what little had survived of the main Nolatrid fleet after the Belanthrese assault was in shambles. Though a relatively small contingent of battle cruisers was on its way from Nolatre’s most prosperous colony, the space force on LunarOne was all they could count on for now.
Yet in the midst of this disturbing development, a ray of hope burst through for the Detective. Word arrived that Halfoorn had put every available soldier into direct combat maneuvers. That meant the small patrol unit that had kept Treldraah captive at her sister’s home in Romnexia was now disbanded. She might survive the war after all. But the news had barely registered in Dholztra’s mind before the facts at hand demanded his full attention again.
“Now what?” he asked. “Dupe! Can you infiltrate the mutant’s implants?”
After an uncomfortably long delay, the detective heard his cyber clone whisper in his mind.
“Can’t risk it now,” it said. “But I have an idea that might work if you can implement it. You’re in luck. Halfoorn has linked all of their implants into his central system — that is, into me. It’s a strategy thing; no time to explain. Sending details to Grelek. Don’t contact me again until….”
The mentallic link went dead and Dholztra was forced to hope that his other self was merely disconnected. But this was no time for mourning. He had to see if Grelek could carry out Duplicate Dholztra’s attack plan.
“Pretty ambitious,” said Grelek. “Considering we aren’t supercomputers embedded in the heart of Halfoorn’s system, like Dupe. We don’t have a safe way to deliver his malware program to those implants.”
“What about ‘Celia’?” asked Imogen. “I’ll bet those poor boys have never even seen a human female. If she distracted their leader long enough, she could transmit the program and infect the entire army.”
“That might work,” said Grelek. “Dupe said they’re centrally controlled. If we infect one, we’ll infect them all.”
Dholztra sank his head into his front two hands.
“And infect Dupe, too,” he said.
“We don’t have a choice,” said Grelek. “Besides, Dupe is you. Wouldn’t you do the same?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said the detective. “But I don’t have to like it.”
Yet now, even with a plan in place, the dedicated team was still up against Time itself. Though the combined LunarOne-Earth fleet had started to put a dent in the Belanthrese assault, their adversary’s head start was a formidable advantage.
“I’ve just heard from LunarOne,” said Jalinoor, “The Admiral is meeting now with the human ‘Supreme Commander’ to work out a coordinated strategy. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Let’s just hope it’s not the last day we see,” said Dholztra. “Is ‘Celia’ ready? And by the way, what exactly should she do when she gets out there?”
“I’ll help you,” said Imogen. “Just don’t get too embarrassed.”
“Can’t believe the fate of my homeworld depends on whether I can get in touch with my feminine side,” said Dholztra.
While they worked out their charm offensive against Halfoorn’s soldiers, Grelek was busy securing an armored auto car to take the robotic unit into the midst of the raging battlefield. Within two hours, Grelek’s staff had replicated a new, decidedly less business-like outfit for “Celia,” and changed the robotic unit’s clothes. They also took care to install the necessary nano-transmitters into the palm of her hands. It was a long shot, but if the robotic unit could get close enough to touch one of the mutant humans, the transmitters would do the rest.
“How do we know Halfoorn’s soldiers won’t blast the car to bits before it even gets close?” asked Jalinoor.
“If the chameleon circuits hold, we should be fine,” said Grelek. “They won’t even see the car until it’s practically on top of them. Then the circuits will switch programs and the car will appear to have Halfoorn’s First Citizen logo on it. That’ll be your cue, Detective. You’ll get ‘Celia’ out of there and work whatever magic you can.”
Dholztra took over from there and walked the robotic unit over to the armored car, where technicians showed him, through “Celia’s” eyes, how to work the safety harness and the internal door handles. HCBI operatives slammed the doors and Dholztra watched as the car sped out across the smoldering battlefield toward the nearest formation of mutant soldiers.
As predicted, the chameleon circuits kept the car off the mutants’ visual sensors, while the noise of battle masked any engine noise, until it was in close range. At that point it stopped. “Celia” walked out onto the rubble-strewn terrain and waved at the soldiers as they rushed passed.
“Hey guys,” the unit called out. “All hail the First Citizen. Can you help me out? I’m kinda lost and my dang car just conked out.”
The closest soldier stopped short and turned his perplexed face in her direction. His massive jaws, though still nominally humanoid, bristled with pearly white, razor sharp teeth that glistened in the afternoon sun.
“What … what are you doing out here … Miss?” said his shy, awkward voice. “You could … you could get hurt.”
“It’s the darn nav-AI on my car,” said the unit. “It just went all … crazy … and I couldn’t control it. Could you fix it for me, please? I read the manual, but it gave me a headache.”
“Kind of busy … but … OK,” said the soldier. “But you gotta promise me. Drive outta here as soon as I get this working.”
“Oh, thanks,” said the unit. “You’re such a sweet guy.” And before the soldier knew what was happening, “Celia” reached up, took his horribly distorted face in both hands and kissed him. Instantly, the nano-transmitters went to work. The soldiers eyes went blank. He stepped back and nearly stumbled over his own feet. He bent double and a series of gagging sounds squeezed out of his throat. Dholztra wasted no time stepping “Celia” back into the auto car, which sped off back toward the entrance to the underground HCBI headquarters.
Inside the secure facility, Dholztra glared at Imogen.
“Was that last part really necessary?” he asked. Imogen tried to suppress a smile — and failed.
“We had to get close enough, right?” she said. “Tell you what. I promise to handle it differently the next time we’re in a similar situation.”
In spite of himself, Dholztra laughed, but not for long. Reports were coming in of Halfoorn’s soldiers falling where they stood, all across the planet.
“Looks like it worked,” he said. “I just wonder what happened to Dupe.”
Later that evening, more encouraging news came in about the largely decimated Belanthran fleet. To the astonishment of the Nolatrid High Command, the humans’ innovative sonic weapons had played havoc with the enemy ships. Better yet, a design flaw in standard Belanthrese guidance systems made them especially susceptible to sonic disruption. It was a type of weaponry no one on this side of the universe had ever considered and it took the proud insectoids by surprise.
Yet as always in war, the triumphs of one day are easily dispelled by sunrise on the next.
“Craters, look at this!” Jalinoor called out the following morning, from across the situation room where they’d been camped out these many hours. He pointed frantically at the room’s main view screen and Dholztra’s antennae twitched at the scene unfolding before him. In the outskirts of Kuzdrohna, where the HCBI had convinced itself that Nolatrid forces had finally taken control, an oddly shaped mound of earth had risen up in what had once been a municipal park. Now the onscreen image shook as an immense, glinting metal device broke through its upper surface, looking for all the world like an outsized corkscrew.
Up the screw turned; it uprooted trees and ripped through the electrical grid. It also smashed through water mains and sewer lines, until the entire area was awash in water and bio-waste. Sparks flew at random as downed powerlines careened off trees, buildings and each other. The scene had all the earmarks of an urban Armageddon and it was just getting started.
Now the screw stopped abruptly and a gigantic sphere emerged from the park’s swampy remains. A menacing array of tentacles dotted the surface of the orb. Each one ended in a heavy armament that began firing with merciless fury. At the same time, a dark voice boomed out from deep within the sphere. In the hysteria of the moment, as citizens of all stripes ran in vain to find shelter, the message the voice delivered blotted out rational thought:
CITIZENS OF THE THREE GALAXIES: UNDER MY PROTECTION, THE PARASITES OF SWARM WILL WAGE THEIR GALACTIC CARNAGE NO MORE. FOLLOW ME OR PERISH AT THEIR HANDS. I ALONE CAN SAVE YOU. I ALONE CA… OWN … AN …ALO … WHAT IS HAPPEN … HAPPE … DHOLZTRA YOU … FOOL … WHAT HAVE … AV … YOU DONE?
Now the mayhem the sphere had initiated began to turn on itself. Its tentacles ceased firing and turned inward, only to fire again on the sphere itself at full blast.
“It’s Dupe!” cried Dholztra. “He came through!”
My last hurrah, Pal, said a faint voice in the detective’s mind. You know, that’s one sick brain you have there, but I guess you’re used to it. Anyway, nice knowing you. Say hi to Treldraah for me, you lucky ‘sectoid cretin.”
With that, Dholztra’s cybercopy winked out of existence.
Can’t say I’ll miss him, he thought. Mainly because I’m still stuck with him….
Meanwhile, the combined space fleets of LunarOne and Earth saw their opportunity and took it, firing as one on the sphere and the desert coordinates Dholztra had identified the previous day. It was a searing stream of weapons fire not seen in the three galaxies within living memory. But when the dust and smoked cleared, the flooding subsided and the hearts of a hundred thousand mutant soldiers ran cold, it was all over.
“Can’t really call it a victory,” said Grelek. “We’ve lost a monster, and gained a legacy of fear that I’m not sure we can ever recover from.”
“You hope he’s lost,” said Dholztra. “But you can bet that Halfoorn wove himself a safety net. He’ll be back.”
Jalinoor’s multifaceted eyes squeezed shut
“How did Halfoorn ever build such a massive power base?” he asked. “Even with a twenty-five cycle head start?”
“We let it happen,” said Grelek. “We got complacent and stopped paying attention.”
“Come on, don’t take it so hard,” said Dholztra. “Nobody expects a monster like that.”
“And now?” asked Grelek. “You think after we rebuild, we won’t slide back?”
Dholztra shrugged.
“No time for that debate,” he said, “until we fix up the mess that Halfoorn made.”
And in the coming weeks, the savvy detective’s words rang true many times over. For starters, the damage Halfoorn and his confederates had done to Nolatre was daunting. Aside from the sheer scale of physical destruction, his corrupting influence had shaken public trust in SWARM leadership to its core. Weeding out Halfoorn’s collaborators was only half the battle. There was also the challenge of holding meaningful elections at a time when the planet’s entire infrastructure was in tatters.
The only silver lining was the flip side of Halfoorn’s meteoric rise — after decades of planning in obscurity. So new was his rebellion that the majority of the Nolatrid colony worlds had remained untouched. Thankfully, following a quick assessment of the homeworld’s most critical needs, volunteers from Nolatre’s twelve colonies began pouring in, accompanied by financial managers and engineers, who brought an army of advanced-design replicators, automated tools and robotic units with them.
As a consequence, the planet’s most urgent needs were met, in a matter of weeks, albeit through a patchwork of improvised solutions that wouldn’t hold for long. In this regard, the humans proved especially helpful. Their own fairly recent experience in rebuilding Earth, in the aftermath of their failed invasion, enabled them to offer the Nolatrids a fresh approach to disaster management. Over the next few months the humans’ advice became the foundation of a new interplanetary cooperation agreement that eventually include a technology exchanges and a mutual defense pact.
Still in all, it was nearly a year before, on a balmy day in mid-spring, Dholztra gathered with the two HCBI Agents, and other members of the Bureau, at the refurbished Kuzdrohna headquarters for a gala farewell to Imogen. In the intervening time, she’d joined the thousands of humans, both in the Red Disk program and from amongst the rebellious human diaspora, to accept an offer of repatriation, extended by the human fleet commander. Under different circumstances, Imogen’s formal reception might have made her heart swell with joy and anticipation.
Yet if she saw the prospect of traveling to her ancestral homeworld as a dream come true, it didn’t show in her sullen expression.
“Not sure what to expect,” she told Dholztra. “Nolatre is the only world I’ve ever known. After my mother died, my father tried to bring Nyles and me up like real Earth kids, but he didn’t have much to work with. I can count the number of facts I know about Earth, let alone its history. And, let me tell you, after five cycles of speaking almost nothing but Nolatrid, I don’t even know if I can hold a conversation in the main human language.”
“Wait,” said Dholztra, “you have more than one? Isn’t that a little crazy?”
“I’ll find out, I guess,” said Imogen. “Besides, what could seem crazy after this?”
Dholztra was about to agree, but the sound of the door opening behind him made him spin around.
“Take it easy, Detective,” said Admiral Nethrez. “War’s over now, remember? Imogen, there you are! I want you to meet Captain Craig Stone of the Earth ship Redemption. He says he knew your father.”
Imogen’s eyes misted over.
“Really?” she whispered.
“No, actually,” said Stone, “but I feel like I did. My uncle Todd served in the same unit as your dad. He was one of the lucky ones, who got away when EarthGov pulled out. Used to talk about your father all the time.”
“Sorry, if I can’t … can’t …” said Imogen, “What EarthGov did was … well … thanks for remembering my father.”
Captain Stone glanced down at his polished, neo-leather boots.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “the invasion disaster turned everything around on the homeworld. It’s a different place now.”
“Congratulations,” said Imogen. “But I’m only going to Earth because I’m out of options. So far, the Nolatrids have a better track record with me than your people.”
“I can’t blame you,” said Stone. “But I also can’t change the past. Will you give us a chance?”
Imogen walked away, her face lined with tears.
“I’m a fool,” said the Admiral. “I should have known she wasn’t ready to meet you.”
“I think we’ve all learned that ‘should have known’ is one of those phrases we can do without,” said Dholztra. “What matters is how you play with the cards in your hand. Imogen is tough as titanium. She might never forgive EarthGov, but she’ll pull herself together. Me? I’m not so sure.”
Agent Grelek clapped him on the back.
“Come on, Detective,” he said. “I’ll bet you’re secretly itching to get back to your case files.”
“Maybe later,” said Dholztra. “Right now, what I’m itching for just walked into the room.”
Grelek, Nethrez and Stone turned around to see Treldraah tiptoe into the Agency’s imposing ballroom.
“Dholztra, you big lug,” she called out. “You could’ve told me this was gonna be so fancy.”
The wily detective rushed to her side.
“Nobody’s fancier than you, Larva,” he whispered.
“Shut up,” said Treldraah. “You have some fresh mouth for a guy who almost got me killed.”
“Sorry about that, Trel,” said Dholztra. “Maybe I should start selling insurance.”
“You do and you can forget what I have in mind for later,” said Treldraah.
“Later?” asked Dholztra. “What do you mean?”
Treldraah blinked back tears.
“Gyroscopes, Rolkahr,” she said. “For the world’s greatest detective, you sure are clueless sometimes.”
Whatever sheepish reply Dholztra was about to make was drowned out by the sound of the hired dance band, striking up with a medley of popular favorites. Dholztra twirled his antennae, took his cue from Destiny and swept his girlfriend out onto the dance floor.
“Stepping on my feet,” Treldraah complained. But the way her eye-facets shone, it was clear she didn’t mind a bit.
THE END
^^^
IF YOU ENJOYED INSECTIVE BY MARK LAPORTA,
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Art by Mélanie Bohémier Gagné
Mark Laporta is the acclaimed author of the Changing Hearts of Ixdahan Daherek series and the new novel, Probability Shadow, which was published in October by Chickadee Prince Books, available now in paperback or ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or at a bookstore near you.