That afternoon his Adrinn drinking buddies paid a short visit. “Sorry, sorry,” they exclaimed as they crawled over him and sniffed his feet. “Bad, bad,” they said sympathetically and left with their ever-present guards.
Their concern brought a tear to Sam’s eye.
In the evening a motley-clad, gray-skinned Pequodista was ushered into the room. The Peq’s multiple layers of clothing rustled as it placed its wooden document case on the floor beside it.
The tendrils on the Peq’s head beat on the rose-colored, inflated bladder at the alien’s throat. Hmmmm, mmm, hmmhhm—“Name’s Oncccc, Bingnagia representative on planet. Ahbbbb heard that the Hegemony Court was coming and asked me to intervene. You know, get you out of here before the Clerk of Court arrives.”
“How the hell did…” Sam began. It shouldn’t have been possible for Ahbbbb to have heard of his arrest and reacted so quickly.
“We watch out for our assets,” Oncccc replied and then seeing the expression on Sam’s face, said, “Ahbbbb contacted me as soon as she heard about the murder. Wanted you to have the very best representative.”
“That was a very fast response,” Sam observed, “considering that I was just arrested this morning.”
The Peq’s tendrils drummed quickly; “Oh no, she heard this days ago. I must say that the Glimmoras are quite upset by your conduct and swear they will never transport humans again, at least not without a cage for them. Can’t say I blame them—they do try to protect their passengers as much as they can. They insist that I bring you to Glimmora so we can provide a decent explanation.”
Sam’s puzzlement grew in leaps and bounds. “Glimmora? What are you talking about? I thought you were here because of the M-Ditsch’s murder!”
Oncccc drew back, his tendrils shot straight out in amazement as his hands disappeared into the depths of his paisley robes. “Another murder?” he hummed. “You are quite the little predator, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Sam protested. “I’m just a human negotiator, a simple Earthman, not some coldblooded killer!” Seeing the expression that passed over the Peq’s face at the unintentional insult, Sam added, “Nor hot-blooded, for that matter.”
“Well, so you say,” the Peq hummed. “But how do you explain the gentleman that disappeared while he was with you? The ship’s auto-chef says that you admitted eating him.”
Sam felt his stomach sink as he recalled the incident. “I wasn’t serious when I said that. I just got so mad at that stupid auto-chef that I wanted to put it in its place. It was a joke,” he finished weakly.
The Peq blanched. “Nevertheless, you did admit that you did away with the Tsith! Oh, this is terrible. Terrible! I had hoped that it was some sort of misunderstanding, although it would be hard to deny, considering that the ship has a complete transcript of your confession. My dear friend, I do not think there is anything that I can do for you. Nothing at all.”
There was a commotion in the hall outside, with considerable huffing and hooting that Sam’s translator couldn’t handle. “What is it?” he asked Bro B.
The huge Bingnagian put its ear close to the door and listened for a few moments, then turned to face Sam and Oncccc. “It’s about the Court Clerk. They just received notice that it’s on its way here.” He listened for a moment more and then drew back in obvious distress. “Gods in dirt; they’re saying the Court is sending a D’ret!”
The Peq blanched, or at least turned a lighter shade of gray. Even Sam could see how Bro B’s legs trembled.
“What’s a D’ret?” he asked innocently.
“The most fearsome creature in the galaxy,” Oncccc explained hastily. “One hundred meters tall, armor-plated, an IQ of one thousand (that’s on an exponential Baysean scale, you understand), with a personal arsenal of firepower that no galactic can possibly withstand. Why, I once heard,” he added in a soft hum, “that a D’ret destroyed an entire planet just because they didn’t fuel his ship fast enough. It only took two of them to destroy an entire solar system that the Court found at fault. Nobody screws with a D’ret!”
“We’ve got to save our people,” Bro B shouted and started pounding on the door. “We have to select a new Ditsch and settle with the Gormlies before it gets here,” he hooted loud enough to be heard over the rising din. “That’s the only way we can stop the D’ret’s visit!”
“I’ve got to get the Hmmmhhhh out of here!” Oncccc declared. Apparently, that word was not in the translator’s dictionaries. With a flurry of fabric the Peq picked up its case and began to use it to hammer on the door. “Let me out! Let me out!” he hummed. The heavy thumps of Bro B’s blows were interspersed with the softer ones of the panicked Pe-quodista representative. It made a percussive counterpoint that sounded vaguely like Earth’s latest riparian mood tunes.
“Wait a minute,” Sam protested as the Peq continued to bash vainly on the door. “You can’t leave me here. You can’t just leave me here to be stomped to death by these monsters.”
“Hey, who are you calling a monster, you puny alien,” Bro B said and advanced on Sam.
Sam ducked to hide behind Oncccc’s billowing robes. “No offense intended, believe me,” he said. Sam dodged a swipe of Bro B’s claw when Oncccc moved left, leaving Sam unprotected. He dodged right and then left, directly into Bro B’s backhand.
Sam tumbled head over heels and fetched up against the bedpost. Something clattered to the floor beside him.
“What’s this?” Bro B said and picked it up. “How did you get the key to the door?”
“Key?” Sam replied. That was the second thing that mysteriously appeared in his possession. Was he a subconscious poltergeist, wafting things hither without conscious thought? No, he concluded; he’d never shown a gram of psi in any tests. There had to be another explanation.
“Damn if it don’t work,” Bro B hooted from the now opened door. “Come on!”
Oncccc ran out like a boutique pursued by fabric-starved seamstresses. He was followed quickly by Sam and Bro B.
Pandemonium reigned in the hallway. Bingnagians ran hither and yon, gathering things and racing off with them. Several seemed to be boarding up the windows. A few were busily locking every door in the long hall. Others were unlocking the same doors to deposit goods taken from other locked rooms. The din of hoots and hollers was so great that Sam’s translator couldn’t keep up.
One advantage of the confusion was that nobody seemed to be paying the escaping trio the slightest attention as they fled down the hall.
“I have a small ship nearby,” Oncccc hummed over the braided golden epaulets on his shoulders. “If you can get me to the field I can get both of you off the planet.”
“And I won’t get stomped to death,” Sam and Bro said in two-part harmony. “Let’s go!”
As they passed Sam’s former room he glanced inside. To his surprise several Adrinns were busily lifting something into a carrying case. Sam stopped, curious as to what possession of his could possibly be of interest to the little creatures. He stepped closer.
“Come on!” Oncccc said impatiently and tugged on his sleeve. “We don’t have time to sightsee. You don’t want to be stomped, do you?”
Sam waved him off. “I don’t understand why the Adrinns should be stealing something of mine.”
“What are they doing?” the translator barked.
“It looks like they are stealing Dratte Five’s gift; the one they were playing with in the pool,” Sam replied. This was a fine time for the intelligent machine to once again take an interest in his mundane doings. Where was it when he needed decent advice?