Unusual Defences
Mar. 3rd, 2013 09:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missmaryrThis is both horror and humor. references to violence, but nothing really gory.
Unusual Defenses
“You are not fulfilling your side of the bargain.”
Aaron felt sweat breaking out on his forehead, but he knew that showing any kind of fear was a mistake. “That’s crap,” he growled instead, focusing on anger. “I’ve brought you what you asked for, every time. Exactly as we agreed. You owe me.” The handsome features on the olive-skinned man were twisted in a snarl. He was six feet tall, as muscled as he was when he left the Navy Seals, and had a .45 Colt in a back holster. He knew none of that would make a bit of difference if matters went south.
Itwas hot and dry here, like always; deserts generally were. He met the monster at an abandoned gas station that went out of business quite some time ago. The monster looked like a praying mantis. It was slightly taller than a man, and Aaron knew already that most bullets just glanced off the exoskeleton of the thing. The eyes looked like they had a pupil, but the damned thing could almost see behind its back. The top four arms ended in pincers. The provider saw the pincers handle delicate work and rip through wood thicker than his arm. If there was an indicator of sex, he had no idea what it was.
It clicked thoughtfully. “You are bringing the product we agreed on.” The words sounded like they were being whistled out, making it hard to understand if it talked too fast. It indicated the freezer. “But the quality is poor. Can you not bring ones that are younger or in better condition? “
“Quit bitching. Quality specs weren’t in the agreement.” Aaron knew that what he provided today was sorry. Admitting weakness to this thing would get him killed, in a way he did not want to think about. Getting caught would get him killed the same way. Baldwin was caught by the Feds. He was in a high security prison waiting for his trial when he disappeared. Aaron saw him before the monster took him away, in this same freezer.
He preferred, like his predecessor Baldwin, to bring in people the world would be better off without. Baldwin targeted gang members. Aaron liked bringing drug dealers or their bosses when he could get hold of them, or people who killed for hire, but sometimes the best he could do were druggies, drunks, or other homeless people. He consoled himself that the poor sod he brought today was better off dead.
“I expect better,” it said. Then it hissed. There was clicking behind Aaron, and he moved, whipping out the gun. Four shots rang out, with the sound of bullets striking a hard surface, before pincers took his head off.
“Puny projectile weapons,” the newcomer sneered in her own language. “So this is where you get the meat for your best specialty dish. Shame on you, using a sentient species.” The stance indicated amusement, not outrage. “Some of your customers would be most upset to learn that, Krill.”
Krill buzzed. It sounded remarkably like someone blowing a raspberry. “Don’t be a fool, Chum. Most of them would not care. Besides, most of what I obtain here is not sentient, just this one kind. ”
“Only the most popular and expensive meat, you mean.”
The restaurateur reached for the corpse. “If we do not freeze that quickly, it will not be useable. Give it here.” Chum allowed the other mantis to place the corpse in the freezer, and noted that she was careful to avoid the body fluids. She rubbed her own arm, and noted that where the red body fluid splashed on her exoskeleton itched. “Better get that off,” Krill advised, “or it will leave a rash. The meat must be carefully prepared for that reason. Why are you here?” The trip was not terribly expensive, but it was not cheap, and the planet was supposed to be off-limits. All planets with sentient life that had not reached space flight out of their solar system were supposed to be off- limits.
“Why do you think? I wanted to know where your mystery meat came from.” She snorted. “I cannot believe that you call the supply scarce. There are billions of these on this planet.”
“If the meat becomes widespread and well known, our beloved health department will get wind of it, and I cannot afford the bribes or to have my place shut down,” Krill whistled back, taking an annoyed stance. “Keeping it scarce keeps it quiet and expensive, something the customers buy to impress their friends and to try something new. “ She was fiddling with the freezer, adjusting what was in it. “Besides, like I said, if not carefully prepared the meat is poisonous. “
“Why were you working with a local? Why not hunt your own?” Chum asked, taking a curiosity stance. She was moving toward Krill, but slowly, as though trying to get a better look at what was in the freezer.
“It is quicker and easier, that is all. When the supplier stops supplying, I hunt them down and find another. They are remarkably foolish when offered what passes as valuable for their kind.” He showed the payment and both of them made whistling noises, their laughter, at the brightly polished pebbles : diamonds, sapphires of three different colors, rubies, and a few nuggets of gold. “Time is money on these trips.” A second later, she produced something resembling a crossbow in her pinchers. “Too bad you wasted yours coming here-“The chat ended when her head disappeared.
“Too you long enough,” Chum groused, looking behind her.
“You maneuvered out of the way too slowly,” her companion said as she came forward. Until she moved, she blended so well with the wall she stood in front of that she was invisible. “You know if I moved too quickly she would see me. I am good at background, but no one is perfect.”
“Quit grumbling, Whelp. Everyone knows you’re the best. She was bragging away. I hoped she would divulge more of her methods.” They investigated the freezer. “Not enough to make it worth the trip,” Chum decided. “Besides, I want one that is younger.”
“Why be short-sighted?” Whelp asked. “If they are sentient, why can we not take one or two live? Then we could stage a hunt. A wily primitive sentient gives the best kind of sport, and the one who gets it can get the meat fresh.”
Chum considered. “Remember, for a good hunt, we have to keep them alive and in good condition. That’s expensive. We’ll judge as we hunt,” she decided.
“Well enough, but not in this area if we can help it,” Whelp said. “There is almost nowhere to hide. “
Chum whistled in amusement. “There is very little to hunt. Too dry for most of the natives, sentient and otherwise. Nor do we wish to approach the larger population centers. We will look around.”
Jacob Jeremiah Jones, known to his friends as Jake and to the disrespectful teen brats in the area as old man Jones, stood ready to defend his property, especially the still.
Jake brewed two kinds of alcohol. Everyone knew about his wines; making wine was completely legal as long as the home brewer did not sell it. Very few knew about the stronger liquor he produced, that few not including the local law enforcement. It was illegal to make distilled liquor, though Jake’s was as safe as any store-bought brand. But he kept the still tucked into a section of his property that was shielded from sight by the small stand of woods. He kept his wine-making materials in the shed attached to the greenhouse where he grew his cherished fruit trees, so everyone figured that was why he fenced his property and had ‘No Trespassing” signs everywhere. There was a lean-to over the still, and he kept a lot of junk in the front part of it as camouflage. No one knew it was there. Jake shared the ‘strong wine’ with a few cronies, but no one knew where he made it.
Then someone-he would bet on some teenaged boys from the area-decided to climb the fence somehow and swim in the small pond on his property. He deduced this from splashing sounds and young voices he heard. They must have heard him, as he heard running feet before he got to the pond. Jake kept his wine in bottles, but he put his ‘strong wine’ in jars- and he found a jar on the grass by the pond. This meant war. He lifted the really old shotgun from his wall, and went to the grocery store for his special ammunition. “Let me get close enough,” he growled to himself as he loaded, “and they’ll learn a lesson they won’t soon forget.”
For five days, he settled down with his shotgun, ammunition, a good book, and a drink to await his quarry. He waited from late afternoon to dark. He was patient. To be honest, it was no hardship to sit in the shade and read while sipping a cold drink. The sixth day he heard them. He picked up the shotgun, made sure it was loaded, and moved quietly. He could hear them. “You think the old idiot would have a door he could lock,” one sniggered. The voice suggested a boy.
“Then people would wonder what he was locking up,” the other pointed out. That was a girl’s voice. Jake wondered if they had more planned than a skinny dip. “If I weren’t sure he was at Jane Steadman’s wedding, getting ready to stuff himself silly like he always does, I wouldn’t be here. He had to have found that jar we left behind!” Jake cussed to himself. In his outrage over the jar, he had forgotten about the wedding. He had given them several bottles of wine, too.
Everyone understood that to get Jake’s wine, there was an informal present expected in return. As a result, Jake was invited to plentiful social events
like weddings, which garnered him quite a few free meals, and received a great deal of homemade sausage, garden produce, and the like. He was a little peeved over the smartass comment about how much he ate when he attended. If those punks ever had to eat his cooking, they eat their heads off at a free meal, too. He decided to wait a bit, until they were stripping down. He was going to make this lesson stick!
“Hey, no jars. A few bottles, but no jars,” the boy said, sounding disappointed.
“He did see the jar, then,” she said anxiously. “He’s gotten rid of the evidence. We better get out of here.” Well, if they had the sense to leave, he would let them go.
“You said yourself that he’s going to be at the wedding. Let’s get a bottle and swim one last time. “They came out of the shed and Jake could see them now. He knew the boy’s last name was Williams and the girl’s was Jacobson. He had brown hair cut short, and she was a strawberry blond. He vaguely recalled that both of them were involved in some kind of sports, and the muscular bodies bore that out. Both were tall. Glancing around, they proceeded to strip down, carefully placing the clothes where they could be easily grabbed, and went into the water.
Skinny-dipping, Jake thought gleefully. Perfect! He waited until they came out and started passing the bottle back and forth before he jumped out. “Caught you!” The reaction was everything he hoped for at first. They jumped up and ran, and he had the shotgun up, when something moved out from the trees.
They looked like praying mantises from Hell, over six feet tall, with four arms that all had pinchers. Both were hissing and whistling something fierce. One of the monsters grabbed both of the kids’ arms in its upper pinchers and started poking them here and there with two of the lower ones. The other came for Jake.
This was the first settlement the Mantises’ found, and both pleased with the first prey they came across. They were young, one of each sex, with none of the fibrous coverings they normally used, and so intent on their own business they did not see the hunters following them. The Mantises blended into the tall plants when the prey entered a partial building, and came out carrying a container of some kind. Watching as the prey removed the coverings and slipped into the water, Whelp wondered if they were interrupting a mating rite. She speculated that staging a hunt would never work if the prey were this easy. She saw the older human come out of hiding with a weapon in his hands, shouting at the prey. That one would be wonderful in a hunt! They had not even noticed him themselves!
“You take the old one and I’ll get the younger ones,” Chum whistled. Remembering how the projectiles did not so much as penetrate Chum’s exoskeleton, Whelp approached the elder confidently. He fired once, and the projectiles only tinkled against her. He reloaded in frantic haste as she took in his fear scent. “Stop playing with the prey! One of the young ones is about to get away!”
“You’re no fun,” she snarled back, and lunged at the elder, just as he fired again.
A blast of white-hot pain hit her. Worse, she could not see! This made no sense-she was no mammal, with their limited eyes; she could lose half the facets in her eye and still see out of the rest. Forget the hunt! She slammed into the being, intent only on tearing him to some many pieces he would be no good for food! She felt his skin tear off. It was rougher than she expected.
Jake watched in awe as the mantis from Hell tore at the tree, ripping the bark to shreds. He had jumped to the side even as he fired, and bolted out of the way. He turned his attention to frantically reloading the weapon and running over to the other oversized bug, hoping to pull the same miracle. The boy shrieked as he hysterically slamed the thing’s head with the still-full bottle as the girl kicked at its legs. It just ignored them, examining the poor boy like it was looking for the best place to take the first bite. When the boy hit an eye, the second mantis from Hell whistled and snatched his wrist, causing him to yelp, and bit the bottle off at the neck before crunching it. The liquor in the bottle drained into its mouth.
It dropped the kids, went down, and started writhing. It looked exactly like an insect hit by bug spray. The kids ran behind Jake, grabbing their clothes on the way, and hastily dressed. “You kids have one of those fancy cell phones?” Jake asked in a soft voice, trying to watch the mantis still attacking the tree and the one still on the grass at the same time.
“I brought mine,” the Jacobson girl said shakily, digging into a pocket. “Damn if that thing doesn’t sound like a whistling teakettle on steroids.” She started to punch numbers into the phone, then shook it in panic and tried again. “It’s not working!”
Just then a shadow fell over them. They looked up to see a fleecy white cloud in the middle of the clear blue sky. From the cloud came two spiders about the same size of the praying mantises from Hell, each on a thin cord that looked incapable of holding them. The humans bolted for the lean-to and watched from behind a rusted tractor.
Each spider landed by a mantis. One simply grabbed the dead body and went back into the cloud; the other threw a net over the blinded mantis, wrapped it, and went back up. The girl shook her phone again, but it stubbornly refused to cooperate. She looked back up to see a little gray man coming down. He was hanging on to one of the cords with a loop on the end of it. He held something that looked like a cop’s notebook in his other hand. He settled on the ground and let go of the cord, which dangled by his head.
“Apologies for this unpleasant intrusion into your private space,” he said. “Please provide details of event, one at a time, and beginning with the elder.” Jake and the kids each told their story. “Please clarify the contents of the projectile and the container.”
“Yeah, what were you going to shoot us with? Birdshot?” the Williams boy asked.
Jake snorted. “Hell no. Think I want your parents suing me? It was rock salt.” Both kids put hands over their butts in horror. “And the bottle was homemade wine.”
“Moonshine,” the Robertson girl contradicted.
“If it was moonshine you two would be drunk, the way you were swigging,” Jake sneered. They gave him knowing looks, and he caved in. “All right, it was homemade brandy. Not moonshine.”
“So method of defense was alcohol in beverage intended for human consumption, and sodium chloride intended as food preparation?” the grey man asked, watching the tablet. They chorused agreement. “Unusual defenses. Are you legitimate?” He extended the tablet.
The males glared as the girl hesitantly took the tablet. “Oh, you mean literate?” she asked. She showed the tablet to the others. Their story was written on it, in clear English and an ornate but readable script. They all looked at the grey man, who huffed a little.
“Sorry, wrong word. You are correct, female. Please review and if correct mark on bottom.” They figured out how to make the electronic device scroll to the bottom and found lines for signatures. The grey man produced a pen-like stylus and all of them signed. “Apologies for the intrusion of criminals into your world. It will not happen again. “He tugged on the cord, and both the grey man and the cord went back up into the cloud. It drifted away and disappeared even as they watched. Except bark-stripped tree, there was no sign that any alien had ever been there.
When Jake got a crick in his neck, he stopped staring at the sky and went into his lean-to, emerging with two bottles. Handing one to the kids, he said, “Here. For medicinal purposes. Both of you owe me a meal. “ The boy grabbed the bottle and both the kids went back over the fence. Jake headed for the house to get drunk.
Qwilick entered the report into the ship’s log. “Incredible,” he grumbled. “Poachers get worse and worse every year, I swear. Imagine, two bodies to clean up, one idiot blinded, and two humans in a preservation container! “
The Arachnoid chirred in agreement, and added,” And that a restaurant on their world was serving meat that is normally poisonous. Human blood has sodium in it! Look at what the condiment did to that poacher’s eyes! Their health department will have fits about that violation getting past them.”
“Their health department personnel will be embarrassed that they missed an opportunity to collect bribes,” the grey man responded sourly. “Ah well. We’ll take that idiot back to her home world and spread the story on the Galactic Wide Net. Once they see what happened to her, maybe the other poachers will think twice before they bother with other dangerous species in the protected zone.”
“Considering that two primitives with food materials killed two hunters from the most feared species in this area of the galaxy? I imagine so!”
Unusual Defenses
“You are not fulfilling your side of the bargain.”
Aaron felt sweat breaking out on his forehead, but he knew that showing any kind of fear was a mistake. “That’s crap,” he growled instead, focusing on anger. “I’ve brought you what you asked for, every time. Exactly as we agreed. You owe me.” The handsome features on the olive-skinned man were twisted in a snarl. He was six feet tall, as muscled as he was when he left the Navy Seals, and had a .45 Colt in a back holster. He knew none of that would make a bit of difference if matters went south.
Itwas hot and dry here, like always; deserts generally were. He met the monster at an abandoned gas station that went out of business quite some time ago. The monster looked like a praying mantis. It was slightly taller than a man, and Aaron knew already that most bullets just glanced off the exoskeleton of the thing. The eyes looked like they had a pupil, but the damned thing could almost see behind its back. The top four arms ended in pincers. The provider saw the pincers handle delicate work and rip through wood thicker than his arm. If there was an indicator of sex, he had no idea what it was.
It clicked thoughtfully. “You are bringing the product we agreed on.” The words sounded like they were being whistled out, making it hard to understand if it talked too fast. It indicated the freezer. “But the quality is poor. Can you not bring ones that are younger or in better condition? “
“Quit bitching. Quality specs weren’t in the agreement.” Aaron knew that what he provided today was sorry. Admitting weakness to this thing would get him killed, in a way he did not want to think about. Getting caught would get him killed the same way. Baldwin was caught by the Feds. He was in a high security prison waiting for his trial when he disappeared. Aaron saw him before the monster took him away, in this same freezer.
He preferred, like his predecessor Baldwin, to bring in people the world would be better off without. Baldwin targeted gang members. Aaron liked bringing drug dealers or their bosses when he could get hold of them, or people who killed for hire, but sometimes the best he could do were druggies, drunks, or other homeless people. He consoled himself that the poor sod he brought today was better off dead.
“I expect better,” it said. Then it hissed. There was clicking behind Aaron, and he moved, whipping out the gun. Four shots rang out, with the sound of bullets striking a hard surface, before pincers took his head off.
“Puny projectile weapons,” the newcomer sneered in her own language. “So this is where you get the meat for your best specialty dish. Shame on you, using a sentient species.” The stance indicated amusement, not outrage. “Some of your customers would be most upset to learn that, Krill.”
Krill buzzed. It sounded remarkably like someone blowing a raspberry. “Don’t be a fool, Chum. Most of them would not care. Besides, most of what I obtain here is not sentient, just this one kind. ”
“Only the most popular and expensive meat, you mean.”
The restaurateur reached for the corpse. “If we do not freeze that quickly, it will not be useable. Give it here.” Chum allowed the other mantis to place the corpse in the freezer, and noted that she was careful to avoid the body fluids. She rubbed her own arm, and noted that where the red body fluid splashed on her exoskeleton itched. “Better get that off,” Krill advised, “or it will leave a rash. The meat must be carefully prepared for that reason. Why are you here?” The trip was not terribly expensive, but it was not cheap, and the planet was supposed to be off-limits. All planets with sentient life that had not reached space flight out of their solar system were supposed to be off- limits.
“Why do you think? I wanted to know where your mystery meat came from.” She snorted. “I cannot believe that you call the supply scarce. There are billions of these on this planet.”
“If the meat becomes widespread and well known, our beloved health department will get wind of it, and I cannot afford the bribes or to have my place shut down,” Krill whistled back, taking an annoyed stance. “Keeping it scarce keeps it quiet and expensive, something the customers buy to impress their friends and to try something new. “ She was fiddling with the freezer, adjusting what was in it. “Besides, like I said, if not carefully prepared the meat is poisonous. “
“Why were you working with a local? Why not hunt your own?” Chum asked, taking a curiosity stance. She was moving toward Krill, but slowly, as though trying to get a better look at what was in the freezer.
“It is quicker and easier, that is all. When the supplier stops supplying, I hunt them down and find another. They are remarkably foolish when offered what passes as valuable for their kind.” He showed the payment and both of them made whistling noises, their laughter, at the brightly polished pebbles : diamonds, sapphires of three different colors, rubies, and a few nuggets of gold. “Time is money on these trips.” A second later, she produced something resembling a crossbow in her pinchers. “Too bad you wasted yours coming here-“The chat ended when her head disappeared.
“Too you long enough,” Chum groused, looking behind her.
“You maneuvered out of the way too slowly,” her companion said as she came forward. Until she moved, she blended so well with the wall she stood in front of that she was invisible. “You know if I moved too quickly she would see me. I am good at background, but no one is perfect.”
“Quit grumbling, Whelp. Everyone knows you’re the best. She was bragging away. I hoped she would divulge more of her methods.” They investigated the freezer. “Not enough to make it worth the trip,” Chum decided. “Besides, I want one that is younger.”
“Why be short-sighted?” Whelp asked. “If they are sentient, why can we not take one or two live? Then we could stage a hunt. A wily primitive sentient gives the best kind of sport, and the one who gets it can get the meat fresh.”
Chum considered. “Remember, for a good hunt, we have to keep them alive and in good condition. That’s expensive. We’ll judge as we hunt,” she decided.
“Well enough, but not in this area if we can help it,” Whelp said. “There is almost nowhere to hide. “
Chum whistled in amusement. “There is very little to hunt. Too dry for most of the natives, sentient and otherwise. Nor do we wish to approach the larger population centers. We will look around.”
Jacob Jeremiah Jones, known to his friends as Jake and to the disrespectful teen brats in the area as old man Jones, stood ready to defend his property, especially the still.
Jake brewed two kinds of alcohol. Everyone knew about his wines; making wine was completely legal as long as the home brewer did not sell it. Very few knew about the stronger liquor he produced, that few not including the local law enforcement. It was illegal to make distilled liquor, though Jake’s was as safe as any store-bought brand. But he kept the still tucked into a section of his property that was shielded from sight by the small stand of woods. He kept his wine-making materials in the shed attached to the greenhouse where he grew his cherished fruit trees, so everyone figured that was why he fenced his property and had ‘No Trespassing” signs everywhere. There was a lean-to over the still, and he kept a lot of junk in the front part of it as camouflage. No one knew it was there. Jake shared the ‘strong wine’ with a few cronies, but no one knew where he made it.
Then someone-he would bet on some teenaged boys from the area-decided to climb the fence somehow and swim in the small pond on his property. He deduced this from splashing sounds and young voices he heard. They must have heard him, as he heard running feet before he got to the pond. Jake kept his wine in bottles, but he put his ‘strong wine’ in jars- and he found a jar on the grass by the pond. This meant war. He lifted the really old shotgun from his wall, and went to the grocery store for his special ammunition. “Let me get close enough,” he growled to himself as he loaded, “and they’ll learn a lesson they won’t soon forget.”
For five days, he settled down with his shotgun, ammunition, a good book, and a drink to await his quarry. He waited from late afternoon to dark. He was patient. To be honest, it was no hardship to sit in the shade and read while sipping a cold drink. The sixth day he heard them. He picked up the shotgun, made sure it was loaded, and moved quietly. He could hear them. “You think the old idiot would have a door he could lock,” one sniggered. The voice suggested a boy.
“Then people would wonder what he was locking up,” the other pointed out. That was a girl’s voice. Jake wondered if they had more planned than a skinny dip. “If I weren’t sure he was at Jane Steadman’s wedding, getting ready to stuff himself silly like he always does, I wouldn’t be here. He had to have found that jar we left behind!” Jake cussed to himself. In his outrage over the jar, he had forgotten about the wedding. He had given them several bottles of wine, too.
Everyone understood that to get Jake’s wine, there was an informal present expected in return. As a result, Jake was invited to plentiful social events
like weddings, which garnered him quite a few free meals, and received a great deal of homemade sausage, garden produce, and the like. He was a little peeved over the smartass comment about how much he ate when he attended. If those punks ever had to eat his cooking, they eat their heads off at a free meal, too. He decided to wait a bit, until they were stripping down. He was going to make this lesson stick!
“Hey, no jars. A few bottles, but no jars,” the boy said, sounding disappointed.
“He did see the jar, then,” she said anxiously. “He’s gotten rid of the evidence. We better get out of here.” Well, if they had the sense to leave, he would let them go.
“You said yourself that he’s going to be at the wedding. Let’s get a bottle and swim one last time. “They came out of the shed and Jake could see them now. He knew the boy’s last name was Williams and the girl’s was Jacobson. He had brown hair cut short, and she was a strawberry blond. He vaguely recalled that both of them were involved in some kind of sports, and the muscular bodies bore that out. Both were tall. Glancing around, they proceeded to strip down, carefully placing the clothes where they could be easily grabbed, and went into the water.
Skinny-dipping, Jake thought gleefully. Perfect! He waited until they came out and started passing the bottle back and forth before he jumped out. “Caught you!” The reaction was everything he hoped for at first. They jumped up and ran, and he had the shotgun up, when something moved out from the trees.
They looked like praying mantises from Hell, over six feet tall, with four arms that all had pinchers. Both were hissing and whistling something fierce. One of the monsters grabbed both of the kids’ arms in its upper pinchers and started poking them here and there with two of the lower ones. The other came for Jake.
This was the first settlement the Mantises’ found, and both pleased with the first prey they came across. They were young, one of each sex, with none of the fibrous coverings they normally used, and so intent on their own business they did not see the hunters following them. The Mantises blended into the tall plants when the prey entered a partial building, and came out carrying a container of some kind. Watching as the prey removed the coverings and slipped into the water, Whelp wondered if they were interrupting a mating rite. She speculated that staging a hunt would never work if the prey were this easy. She saw the older human come out of hiding with a weapon in his hands, shouting at the prey. That one would be wonderful in a hunt! They had not even noticed him themselves!
“You take the old one and I’ll get the younger ones,” Chum whistled. Remembering how the projectiles did not so much as penetrate Chum’s exoskeleton, Whelp approached the elder confidently. He fired once, and the projectiles only tinkled against her. He reloaded in frantic haste as she took in his fear scent. “Stop playing with the prey! One of the young ones is about to get away!”
“You’re no fun,” she snarled back, and lunged at the elder, just as he fired again.
A blast of white-hot pain hit her. Worse, she could not see! This made no sense-she was no mammal, with their limited eyes; she could lose half the facets in her eye and still see out of the rest. Forget the hunt! She slammed into the being, intent only on tearing him to some many pieces he would be no good for food! She felt his skin tear off. It was rougher than she expected.
Jake watched in awe as the mantis from Hell tore at the tree, ripping the bark to shreds. He had jumped to the side even as he fired, and bolted out of the way. He turned his attention to frantically reloading the weapon and running over to the other oversized bug, hoping to pull the same miracle. The boy shrieked as he hysterically slamed the thing’s head with the still-full bottle as the girl kicked at its legs. It just ignored them, examining the poor boy like it was looking for the best place to take the first bite. When the boy hit an eye, the second mantis from Hell whistled and snatched his wrist, causing him to yelp, and bit the bottle off at the neck before crunching it. The liquor in the bottle drained into its mouth.
It dropped the kids, went down, and started writhing. It looked exactly like an insect hit by bug spray. The kids ran behind Jake, grabbing their clothes on the way, and hastily dressed. “You kids have one of those fancy cell phones?” Jake asked in a soft voice, trying to watch the mantis still attacking the tree and the one still on the grass at the same time.
“I brought mine,” the Jacobson girl said shakily, digging into a pocket. “Damn if that thing doesn’t sound like a whistling teakettle on steroids.” She started to punch numbers into the phone, then shook it in panic and tried again. “It’s not working!”
Just then a shadow fell over them. They looked up to see a fleecy white cloud in the middle of the clear blue sky. From the cloud came two spiders about the same size of the praying mantises from Hell, each on a thin cord that looked incapable of holding them. The humans bolted for the lean-to and watched from behind a rusted tractor.
Each spider landed by a mantis. One simply grabbed the dead body and went back into the cloud; the other threw a net over the blinded mantis, wrapped it, and went back up. The girl shook her phone again, but it stubbornly refused to cooperate. She looked back up to see a little gray man coming down. He was hanging on to one of the cords with a loop on the end of it. He held something that looked like a cop’s notebook in his other hand. He settled on the ground and let go of the cord, which dangled by his head.
“Apologies for this unpleasant intrusion into your private space,” he said. “Please provide details of event, one at a time, and beginning with the elder.” Jake and the kids each told their story. “Please clarify the contents of the projectile and the container.”
“Yeah, what were you going to shoot us with? Birdshot?” the Williams boy asked.
Jake snorted. “Hell no. Think I want your parents suing me? It was rock salt.” Both kids put hands over their butts in horror. “And the bottle was homemade wine.”
“Moonshine,” the Robertson girl contradicted.
“If it was moonshine you two would be drunk, the way you were swigging,” Jake sneered. They gave him knowing looks, and he caved in. “All right, it was homemade brandy. Not moonshine.”
“So method of defense was alcohol in beverage intended for human consumption, and sodium chloride intended as food preparation?” the grey man asked, watching the tablet. They chorused agreement. “Unusual defenses. Are you legitimate?” He extended the tablet.
The males glared as the girl hesitantly took the tablet. “Oh, you mean literate?” she asked. She showed the tablet to the others. Their story was written on it, in clear English and an ornate but readable script. They all looked at the grey man, who huffed a little.
“Sorry, wrong word. You are correct, female. Please review and if correct mark on bottom.” They figured out how to make the electronic device scroll to the bottom and found lines for signatures. The grey man produced a pen-like stylus and all of them signed. “Apologies for the intrusion of criminals into your world. It will not happen again. “He tugged on the cord, and both the grey man and the cord went back up into the cloud. It drifted away and disappeared even as they watched. Except bark-stripped tree, there was no sign that any alien had ever been there.
When Jake got a crick in his neck, he stopped staring at the sky and went into his lean-to, emerging with two bottles. Handing one to the kids, he said, “Here. For medicinal purposes. Both of you owe me a meal. “ The boy grabbed the bottle and both the kids went back over the fence. Jake headed for the house to get drunk.
Qwilick entered the report into the ship’s log. “Incredible,” he grumbled. “Poachers get worse and worse every year, I swear. Imagine, two bodies to clean up, one idiot blinded, and two humans in a preservation container! “
The Arachnoid chirred in agreement, and added,” And that a restaurant on their world was serving meat that is normally poisonous. Human blood has sodium in it! Look at what the condiment did to that poacher’s eyes! Their health department will have fits about that violation getting past them.”
“Their health department personnel will be embarrassed that they missed an opportunity to collect bribes,” the grey man responded sourly. “Ah well. We’ll take that idiot back to her home world and spread the story on the Galactic Wide Net. Once they see what happened to her, maybe the other poachers will think twice before they bother with other dangerous species in the protected zone.”
“Considering that two primitives with food materials killed two hunters from the most feared species in this area of the galaxy? I imagine so!”
