“Yes,” I answered, pausing the recording of Tad piloting his Dinky Dingy Jr. into the Grey Matter’s Hell Craft. You’d be surprised the types of entertainment that have survived the theft of Earth. Everyone with any kind of collection has made their goodies available to all and sundry.
My view screen took up an entire wall.
“Ghee, this is KekTan CHOO.”
CHOO was the mekked and manned satellite called Communication Hub Orbital One. There were two, this one was civilian, and the other part of the Sheriff’s Department Planetary Protection Force.
“You have a personal communication from the alien spaceship Trakennad Dor. Klon requesting audience.”
“Hi Glennis, yes, I‘ll take that,” I responded.
Klon! No way! I waited anxiously, sporting a big dumb grin on my face, but I didn’t wait for long.
Klon sounded very pleased with himself. His deep bassoon growl ejected my name. My skin prickled, all of my hairs stood on end, and I felt a chill shiver my timbers.
“Klon, how did you find me?” I demanded of him in his language.
“Gossip,” Klon rumbled. His tone of arrogant self-satisfaction somehow traveled through the ether into my home.
“I’m delighted. Where are you?”
“We are several light years from KekTan. We will be there shortly.”
“How?”
“The Trakennad Dor was Spauch’s ship. Spauch no longer presides over us.”
“But you do?”
“Me and many of the others. We run the ship now.”
“You run it to do what?”
“Fight.”
“Oh, Klon,” I said sadly.
“Not to the death, Ghee. To tap out.” Weirdly, he said ‘tap out’ in English, and I could hear the pride in his growl.
“How do you split the proceeds?” I asked. What a curious turn of events.
“We are a co-op,” he answered smugly.
“Klon! You’re civilized?”
“I am. We all are. Also, we are all rich businessmen now. Legit. I‘m here to tell you that you will come here and fight with us.”
“I will?”
“Yes. A match. We found two like you on the Anything Goes.”
Two like you… what the hell?
“The Anything Goes? What’s that?”
“It is a sex ship. We are very fond of them.”
“I’ll bet you are. You found two like me?”
“Yes, and you three will fight together. You will make us all very, very happy. And richer.”
“Will you take no for an answer?”
“No.”
“I’m out condition.” At least that kind. I’d become, shall we say, a little plush.
“Work on yourself. Anyway, the others are not fighters, they are sexers. We will choreograph the fight. It will be a brilliant show.”
“When will you be here?”
“Soon. I will call again. Goodbye.”
The connection ended abruptly.
Holy guano, Spaceman! Klon was running an intergalactic fight club. I was sure the fights were real, even if they weren’t killing each other anymore. Choreographed, my ass.
“Jack,” I said into the air.
A moment passed, then, an automated recording of a Mek voice said, “Most High Ambassador Kek John Jack Knott is not available. Your call will be logged. Do you care to leave a message?”
‘Kek’ was not part of Jack’s name, it was an honorific. My good friend Kek, who used to be my guard when I was a slave on an arena ship--the very ship that Klon had called from, had been honored by his kins’ decree that all Diplomatic Corps personnel would adopt his name before their own in their titles. Kek had made the escape from slavery possible, and had negotiated with Jack for a planetary home for his kin while we were all still slaves. His kin had decided to distinguish him in this way, and they’d also rewarded him by calling the planet KekTan, meaning “Great Kek”. My friend was a Big Deal among his kin.
“No,” I answered the computer. “End.” He would call me when he could. When Jack had left this morning, he’d said something about the Apsaragin trade negotiations. He was probably in the middle of them right now.
Apsaragin was a group of five little planets orbiting a small, hot star not too distant from MekKop. When the old Union of Galaxies was protecting and trading among the planets of sixteen different galaxies, they didn’t bother exploring their closer neighborhoods. Now that the new Galactic Union had shrunk to four galaxies, nearby neighbors had become important to explorers, the Diplomatic Corps, and traders. Jack had been fairly busy, alas. Anyway, he’d be home tonight.