Chapter 3
"Absolutely no sign of the Tracker," Lana informed Zin as they drove back to his office. "And Rhee still leaving a trail of bodies…"
"Yes, well, that could draw all the wrong sorts of attention to us. Proceed as you see fit."
Lana smiled faintly and nodded.
"And add Miss Porter's favorite type of flowers to that list of information I need."
"What is her appeal to you?" Lana asked, shaking her head and writing it down.
"I have no idea." He shook his head. "There's just something very… familiar about her."
"Familiar? The woman comes from a species of talking monkeys, Zin. There is nothing about her even remotely similar to any of the Migar species." She shook her head. "Just tell me that it's completely physical?" she pled. "You are not falling in love with a non-Vardian, are you?"
"Oh, of course not." He shook his head dismissively. "But we may be on this planet for awhile. A man needs to have his fun and you, my dear, are a busy woman."
Lana scoffed and shook her head. "Well, Doctor Zin, given all the hard work you do, you are certainly entitled to an occasionally diversion. The Sar-Top contingent will arrive this afternoon," she added.
"Wonderful."
She nodded wordlessly.
"You will treat Miss Porter with the respect she is due as my consort," Zin informed her mildly.
"Is she your consort now? Does she know that?" Lana asked, amused.
"She will."
"You aren't going to tell her about us, are you? Our plans here?"
"Don't be insane, my dear." Zin smiled at her, shaking his head and absently giving her throat an affectionate squeeze. "She's not ready yet."
Lana sighed and shook her head. "Just remember your position, Zin. Do not let sentiment blind you to necessity."
"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear," Zin assured her with a smile.
***
"So what's the hurry?" Vic asked as Daggon entered the room.
"Hurry?"
"Why so eager to get out of here?" Vic elaborated.
Daggon regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then approached him. His gut told him that he could trust this alien lawman. "Must find Rhee."
"Rhee?" Vic repeated.
"Rhee take life," he explained.
"Rhee… kills people?"
"Kills people." Daggon nodded. "Must find Rhee."
"Maybe you should leave that to the cops?" Vic suggested gently.
"Cop?" he repeated blankly.
"Cops, police officers. Law enforcement agents."
Daggon nodded and pointed to himself. "Am cop."
Vic sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, sure you are, buddy." He turned to leave.
Daggon stepped around him, blocking his progress. "Am cop," he repeated firmly. "Must find Rhee."
Vic took a startled step backwards. "Hey, just calm down," he advised gently, raising his hand.
Daggon took the opportunity provided. He grabbed Vic's hand and held it firmly in both of his, searching the human's eyes with his own. "Must find Rhee," he told Vic gently, dropping his eyes to the hand held in both of his and releasing energy.
Vic looked down, frowning. His eyes widened and he tried to pull away when he saw the light spilling out from under the other man's hands. Daggon tightened his grip and shook his head, continuing the transfer of energy. Vic swallowed hard, his mind flooded with a thousand images, emotions, and ideas, nearly flooring the Detective.
Fear, confusion, pain, loss, determination… a thought in a voice not his own, ricocheting around his brain.
"You have to help me. I need your help. Rhee is not like any criminal your planet has ever seen before."
His mind was assaulted by a horrifying image, all the more horrifying because it felt like he was actually there, witnessing it.
A creature, not human, violently attacking a child, also not human, though undeniably of a different species than her attacker. She was a delicate, beautiful creature, an entity of pure light, screaming and struggling and crying out for her father as her attacker first brutalized her and then took the life from her.
And then that voice in his mind again.
"I have to stop him before he can do this again. You must help me…"
Another vision.
A man, of the same species as the child, kneeling over her corpse, keening. Another body, an adult of the same species, laying close by.
The voice in his mind, Daggon's voice, he realized.
"No one else should have to suffer this loss… He can not be allowed to kill again."
And an awareness, a certainty, that the man from this vision was the same man now standing before Vic.
"Shit," he whispered when Daggon finally released his hand, looking exhausted.
***
"You want me to release him into your custody, Vic?" Jenny asked, blinking.
Vic nodded firmly. "Yeah. You told me yourself that he's harmless."
"Vic!" she protested. "Come on. That's not how we work. Besides, he doesn't even have a name!" she protested.
"So sign him out as John Doe," Vic suggested.
"Not Doe. Daggon."
"John Daggon," Vic amended, shrugging.
"I'll release him on one condition," she announced.
"Great. What?"
"You tell me what's going on."
"He's a material witness in a serial homicide case," Vic told her, shrugging. "And he's a cop."
Jenny glanced from Vic to Daggon with wide eyes. "I'll get the paperwork."
As she scuttled off, Vic looked at Daggon. "If anyone asks, your name is John."
"Name is Daggon," he protested, frowning.
"John Daggon. Trust me, it'll make it easier for you to blend in."
He nodded and dutifully repeated, "John Daggon. Find Rhee now?"
"Just as soon as you sign on the dotted line," Vic assured him.
"Dotted line?" he repeated, frowning. "Sign?"
"It is going to be a very long day," Vic sighed to himself.
***
Mel and Jess were chatting about Jess' new favorite subject, one Doctor Julius Zin, when the door of the bar opened and Lana strode in. She looked around the empty bar for a moment before making a bee-line towards Mel and Jess.
"Ladies," she greeted them, politely inclining her head.
"Lana, hello," Mel greeted her.
"Hi, Lana!" Jess said cheerfully. "Where's Julius?"
"Doctor Zin is… meeting someone," Lana told her.
"Short one human shadow," Jess observed.
Lana allowed herself a faint smile at the young Englishwoman's words. "My duties call me elsewhere this afternoon. I merely--" She trailed off as her phone rang. She pulled it out and held it to her ear. "This is Doctor Lana."
"Your problem has been… taken care of."
"Complications?"
"None, ma'am."
"Dead, then?"
"He is. We made sure there were no other suitable host bodies in range and waited for his life-force to expire, exactly as you directed."
"I see. Good day." Lana snapped the phone shut and looked up at Mel and Jess.
"Dead?" Mel repeated.
"Our computer network. Completely dead. Most regrettable." She shook her head dismissively. "Nothing that can't be replaced," she added, reaching into her suit pocket and pulling out a notebook. "Doctor Zin has enjoined me to come here, Miss Porter, engage you in 'small-talk', and thereby find out a number of your tastes and preferences." She held up a list. "Care to save us both a bit of time?"
Mel chuckled and shook her head, taking the list from Lana. "Favorite flowers, favorite type of food, favorite movie…" She laughed and shook her head, reading through the list. Likes, dislikes, political beliefs… "He always do this with women he dates?"
Lana pursed her lips, shaking her head. "This is a new behavior. I am not yet sure what to make of it."
"Saves him time over all that pesky small-talk," Jess noted with a smile.
"Your favorite flowers?" Lana asked Mel, ignoring Jess' comment.
"Daffodils…" Mel frowned. "Why did he send you to find out all this stuff?"
"Because you interest him and he wishes to continue your acquaintance. Presumably he thinks a favorable first impression on your date would be a good start."
"I… see," Mel murmured, not sure she did.
"Courtship is not something he's accustomed to," Lana explained simply, shrugging. "He does try. Too hard at times."
"Hey, if the worst a guy can be accused of in a relationship is trying too hard," Jess remarked with a shrug. "A girl could do a lot worse, Mel…"
Mel rolled her eyes. "Yes, Jess. I think we've established that you approve of my having a relationship with Julius."
"Hey, he's handsome, polite, sophisticated, educated…"
"Rich," Lana added quietly, earning herself an approving grin and a nod from Jess.
Mel shook her head. "Why do I feel like I've been outvoted here?"
"Oh, come on, Mel!" Jess chuckled. "You know you like the guy!"
Mel shrugged and shook her head. Jess was persistent, that was for sure.
"Just give him a chance," Jess told Mel, grinning. "You don't like him and I'll leave you alone." Her smile widened. "And start dating him myself."
Lana allowed herself a faint smile, approving the girl's ambition. "I will inform Doctor Zin," she told Jess quietly.
Jess laughed and smiled at Lana. "So why aren't you dating him?"
"Quite aside from him being old enough to be my father?" Lana asked honestly, shrugging. "I don't believe he's ever seen me in quite that light." Her expression was philosophical. "I make a better personal assistant than wife."
"Not really the Martha Stewart type, then?" Jess asked, grinning.
"Well, inasmuch as she is… antisocial, unprincipled, and completely profit-oriented I'm actually very much like her," Lana assured Jess with another half-smile. She fixed her gaze on Mel. "Shall we finish going over this list now?" she asked cheerfully.
***
"Rhee killed her?" Vic asked, staring down at the dead hooker.
Daggon shook his head, frowning. "Rhee not use…" He pointed to Vic's gun, shaking his head. "Weapon."
"Gun, it's a gun."
"Gun," he repeated dutifully. In spite of the fact that this person had obviously been stabbed, there was a bullet-wound as well. "Rhee not use gun, not use knife. Use… hands. Like using hands."
"But Rhee was here?" Vic asked.
Daggon nodded, running his hands over the body. He stopped abruptly, frowning.
"See, I'm just confused," Vic told him, shaking his head and looking around the field as Daggon made his examination of the body. "We have the dead woman in the car who you said Rhee did kill and we have this unrelated victim--"
"Not unrelated," Daggon corrected him quietly, shaking his head and rising, his expression troubled. "Is Rhee."
"Whoa! DB number two is Rhee?" Vic asked, gaping. That made no sense. "Are you sure?"
Daggon nodded. There could be no mistaking that life-force, even recently dead. "Rhee kill woman. Someone else kill Rhee…"
"But who? And why?"
"Not know."
He glanced at the body again, then around the field, shaking his head. The wounds were familiar, undeniably so. Two deep knife wounds to the chest. No human had managed to kill Rhee in this manner, though. Whoever had done it knew Vardian physiology. An accomplice would have held the Vardian's arms as the blows were delivered to exactly the right spots, preventing him from fighting back or even defending himself. A Vardian would have been killed instantly by either of the knife-wounds. In a non-Vardian host with a differently arranged circulatory system, Rhee had probably suffered for some time before a bullet to the back of his head ended things.
It was a professional kill, he decided, by a trained team. The knife-wounds would have killed Rhee eventually, but the shot to the head had been cleaner. It was an honor-killing, contracted by a Vardian, and carried out by Vardians against another Vardian. The victim was supposed to see his killer, to understand why he was dying. But he was not supposed to suffer. When it had been clear that he was, his assassins would have given him mercy. It was their way.
"Vardians kill," he announced finally, rising and dusting off his hands. It was a fact that raised more questions than it answered. Rhee had obviously angered someone, but who? And how?
"Vardians?" Vic repeated. "Aliens like Rhee? How… how many more of you guys are there on this planet?"
"Not many. Should not be many." He shook his head in confusion, closing his eyes and casting out with his mind. His eyes shot open and he looked skyward, whispering, "No…"
"What?" Vic asked, staring in the direction that Daggon was looking. He frowned at the swirling red vortex of clouds that the alien was looking at. "What the hell is that?"
"Wormhole," came the grim response.
It was not the wormhole that had drawn his attention, though, but the energy he could feel emanating from it as dozens of life-forces poured through, not a single one of them in-tact. Prisoners, more escapees from Sar-Top. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of them. He let out a shout of frustration, kicking the ground.