Universe War (Mission Activated)

The Art Dealer

The commando unit further emphasized the incongruity of the situation by lingering near an old bus that looked almost as weathered and solemn as the boulders. It was painted in what had once been a bright yellow and was now a dull ochre, and it was decorated with insanely tacky rust-hued flames. Along its top were emblazoned the words "Kirian Tours."

Jasper responded to the absurdity of it all by gleefully snapping a picture of the soldiers. The glowers of some of them were priceless, and would make fantastic souvenirs.

"Hey," he asked, looking about and spreading his arms. "Where's the band?"

Major Gibson, the officer in charge of the operation, looked at him askance. "What band?"

"To welcome us," Jasper answered cheerfully. The soldiers looked at one another, utterly at a loss for words.

Gibson, a tall, lean man with sharp features, eyed the pair critically, his mouth turning down in an expression of distaste. "You plan on going on a mission dressed like that?"

"Hello Major Pot, I'm Major Kettle. Have you looked at yourselves in a mirror? We're supposed to mingle with the tourists, aren't we? What do you expect us to wear? A panda suit?"

Gibson sighed, “I’ll make this short and sweet as we’re running late.”

Eliza threw Jasper an "I told you so" look as they climbed into the bus, settling in as best they could.

“Major Jasper,” Gibson said briskly, “your contact is Sergeant Cooper. He is in position and will be waiting with your equipment in the back of the suspect’s store.” Without another word, he turned to take his seat.

“Hey!” Jasper protested. “I’m only working with my partner here!”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. We’re a team.”

Gibson glanced at Eliza, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged. “Funny. Because Sergeant Eliza will arrive at the drop in precisely twenty minutes, and you will have ten seconds to make the transfer.” An unpleasant smile quirked his lips. “Or didn’t you read the memo?”

“Of course I did,” Jasper lied, with just the right combination of annoyance and weariness.

“You better have.” Gibson’s tone of voice and skeptical, slightly worried expression gave Jasper the distinct impression that the major wasn’t fooled.

The two agents were bumped and jostled as the vehicle made its way across the desert to their destination, moving over the endless sand and passing through shade provided by the enormous rock formations.

Laureline pulled out a tablet and quipped wryly, “Hey, how about we look over the memo? You know—one last time?”

Jasper, feeling his face getting hot, shrugged nonchalantly. “Can’t hurt,” he said casually, stretching and slouching in the uncomfortable bus seat.

Eliza pulled up a map on the tablet, pointing to it with the tip of one long, elegant finger.

“Section four. Aisle 122,” she stated. “Suspect claims to be a bona fide art dealer. His name is Igon Siruss.”

She called up the suspect’s image. Jasper, like most humans, had gotten used to aliens of nearly every shape and size imaginable. Even so, he had a sneaking suspicion that in this case the suspect had a face even his mother would be hard-pressed to love.

"Bald, with reddish, slightly shiny skin, Igon Siruss was jowly and sullen-looking, with eyes so tiny they were all but swallowed by rolls of extra flesh. But that was not what had caught Jasper’s attention."

“Wow!“ He yelped. “What's with the three sets of nostrils?“

"He's a Kodhar'Khan," Eliza explained. "There are three seasons on his planet. The dry season brings suffocating sandstorms. The rainy season results in clouds of noxious sulfur dioxide fumes. And then there's winter, when you can breathe pretty much normally. Each nostril set has developed separate air filtration capabilities and can be sealed off voluntarily, just like we can close our eyes."

Not for the first time, Jasper looked at his partner with open admiration of her beautiful brain. "How do you know all this?"

"I paid attention in school," she said archly, then grew serious. "When you head in there, you should take extra precautions. Igon's right-hand man is his son, goes by the name of Junior. He has a list of crimes almost as long as his father's."

"How bad can someone named 'Junior' be?" scoffed Jasper confidently. "Bet he got picked on at Kodhar'Khan school."

Eliza's lips thinned. "In addition to Junior, Igon's said to have quite a lot of private bodyguards, and Kodhar'Khans are reputed to be very aggressive due to a lack of females on their planet." Private bodyguards were often encountered on Kirian. The native population known as Siirts allegedly provided security, but they often did not measure up to others' standards.

"Really?" Jasper grinned. "Aggressive because there's competition for females, or aggressive because they don't have to deal with them?"

"You know," Eliza said in a conversational tone, "another thing I learned in school is that planets where women are in charge are usually eighty-seven percent more likely to be peaceful, prosperous worlds where art and education flourish, and the males think before saying really stupid things."

Eliza patted his thigh, then, to his disappointment, rose to settle into another seat by herself. Jasper shrugged and made the best of it by stretching out more fully in his seat, fishing out a pair of sunglasses he settled over his eyes, and grabbing a catnap.

He hoped he wouldn't dream.

Jasper blinked awake as the bus arrived outside a long, high wall of red stone that marked the perimeter of Big Market. As it chugged along, Jasper could see a gargantuan ornate gate soaring into the air, covered with what looked like gold. This gate marked the main entrance to Big Market.