First Contact

Chapter 422

Chapter 422

Most High Va'armo'os nervously clopped out of the elevator and into the parking garage. It didn't matter that there were dozens of ExecSec moving around the garage in full armor carrying plasma weapons, that there was even armed drones moving through the garage.

What mattered was that outside the garage the fog had descended upon the city with nightfall and gripped the entire city in its gentle grip. Visibility was down to the point that opening the door of a domicile or vehicle had the mist billow inside, extending chill tentacles into the space.

The beings working at the Planetary Weather Control Center were helpless to stop it. There was no error in the programming, no fault in the satellites, no defect in the control systems, but still night brought thick fog across the entire planet.

Va'armo'os knew he should have felt safer than the majority of Most Highs, as he did not live in the capital, but instead on one of the large islands opposite of the mega-continent.

He didn't feel safe trotting to his personal vehicle. Unlike the rest of Most Highs, he had stopped using grav-lifters or hover vehicles, choosing to rely upon ground-effect vehicles only. His personal vehicle was a large black wheeled vehicle, comfortable and roomy, heavily armored, with light battlescreens that could be found on recon vehicles.

As he climbed into his vehicle and settled down he still felt nervousness. A glass of wine did little to ease his discomfort as the vehicle was examined by his private security guards. After a long period of time the guards got into the front and rear seats, the rear seat crew unlimbering a heavy plasma cannon.

Finally the vehicle started moving again.

Fog shouldn't have affected radar or any of the other advanced systems but for some reason that nobody had been able to identify everything, every type of sensor system, was blocked and obscured by the fog.

Which meant the vehicle had to travel slowly. Even time/distance systems, or inertial navigation systems, were always off, always blinded somehow.

Va'armo'os wrung his lower hands nervously, his tendrils curled tight and his crests inflated, as the vehicle slowly moved down the street.

The night before last the vehicle had gotten lost, taking Va'armo'os nearly five hours to get home.

As the Most High of System Transportation and Shipping he needed to be heavily guarded to ensure the proper flow of traffic kept goods moving across the planet and within the solar system itself. He handled all the flow of transportation through all eight of the space elevators on the Unified Council World as well as the elevators on other worlds, the transportation routes used by the massive cargo ships, and much more.

After twenty minutes he breathed a sigh of relief and began to relax, allowing the automated systems to pour him another glass of wine. He relaxed back in his seat, sipping at the expensive wine imported from over a thousand light years away, available to only the most powerful and wealthy.

He was safe now.

A pod of shavashan looking out the window covered the ends of their snouts and chuffed laughter at the sight outside their bedroom.

Standing on top of a sky blue ground effect limousine was a figure all in black, the figure's cape streaming behind it for nearly a hundred yards, its arms folded on its chest. The collar of the cape was swept up high, his hair black, shiny, and immaculate, his chin lifted as he stood on top of the moving vehicle as if he was standing on the ground.

The saurian children giggled as the figure turned and faced them, its face serious and stern. As they watched the figure turned to face them, nodded, and gave a slow wink before the fog swirled and he, and the limousine, was gone.

In the limousine Va'armo'os took the time to use his implant to check his Nebula Steam awards. He sighed at the fact he was still all the way down on the Silver Leaderboards at #58,832 out of one hundred thousand for the Silver boards. His acquisition of the coveted achievement for playing The Furious Florist token match game in bathroom in the basement of the Unified Atrium Stadium had moved him up four ranks. Not as high as he had hoped. Still, less than 11% of players had gotten that award.

Va'amo'os checked his games lists to see if the time had expired that kept him from accessing any of the minigames to expand his empires.

He stared at the game list, scrolling through it. He stopped twice, played the little minigames, feeling a surge of pleasure at how quickly he was able to put together groupings of three or more fruits to make them disappear in a sparkle and with a jaunty little tune.

The two Lanaktallan in the back were looking behind the vehicle, nervously tapping their hooves, worried that the Night Terran would appear, riding his terrifying three wheeled vehicle that had brought so much fear to the Executor Security Forces. They each were nervously looking around, wishing they see through the fog. The plasma cannon was nice, it could destroy vehicles, even lightly damage buildings, but they honestly weren't sure if it would harm the fearsome being known as the Night Terran.

"I hear he can turn into a cloud of flying mammals," the left one said.

"I heard he flies," the one on the right said.

"Du'ulmavo'o said that he saw the Night Terran jump a thousand feet into the air," Lefty commented. He jerked as he heard a noise and pointed his weapon to the right. "What was that?"

Righty lifted his weapon, sighting through it. "I don't know. Do you see anything?"

"No, blah-bleh-blah," the tall elegant figure dressed in all black said, leaning forward. "Maybe it's just a cat."

"Perhaps," Lefty said, leaning back.

"What's a cat?" Righty asked, turning and looking to his left.

It took him a second to realize what he was seeing.

"The Night Terran!" Righty yelled, lifting up his rifle.

"No! Wait!" Lefty yelled out.

The Night Terran erupted into a cloud of bats, whirling away.

Lefty jumped out of the back of the limo, tumbling on the road as his armor threw sparks as he pulled his legs and arms in tight.

Seeing his partner dive into the fog Righty decided that perhaps sticking around wasn't the best idea and jumped after the other Lanaktallan security guard.

The limousine traveled on.

Va'armo'os finished his maintenance minigames and shut down his datapad and leaned back, sighing with pleasure. He was 0.028% closer to gaining another coveted achievement.

Anyone can bribe a superior to grant you a sash award, but you cannot bribe one of Magician Hat Games's electronic amusement programs to give you an achievement, he thought to himself, picking up another glass of wine.

His car slowed and turned into the driveway of his mansion and Va'armo'os felt deep pleasure at the fact that once again he had escaped the Night Terran's clutches.

The limo came to stop and he waited for a few moments before climbing out and trotting up the stairs into his private mansion. He passed by two guards, both of whom nodded to him, and trotted to his study.

Another night of relaxation awaited.

Humming the tune of one of his favorite entertainment computerized interactive programs he moved around and sat down at his desk. He opened a bottle of expensive liquor all the way from Hesstla, back from before it was taken by the Terrans, and poured himself a stiff drink.

Another successful escape, he chuckled to himself, opening his desk drawer and pulling out a wrapped pouch of expensive narco-cud. He carefully unwrapped it and jammed it into his jowls, letting his feeding tendrils wriggle into his mouth and touch the thick dense narco-cud. He shivered in pleasure as the intoxicants made his feeding tendrils go tingly and he could feel the stimulants and narcotics flooding along the vessels in his tendrils.

He leaned back and relaxed, missing that the smartglass on his windows flashed twice.

Let everyone else be terrified by the Night Terran, he thought to himself, chuckling at his ingenuity of escaping the Night Terran yet again. I have wealth, power, and preparedness.

The com unit beeped and he smiled at it. When it beeped a second time he sighed, rolled all six eyes at it, and reached forward to press the acceptance button before it could beep a third time.

"Most High of System Transportation and Shipping Va'armo'o," he said jovially.

"Hi!" the voice seemed very happy to talk to Most High Va'armo'o. Va'armo'o smiled at the communicator, feeling the euphoric compounds making his feeding tendrils pleasantly throb.

"Yes?" the Lanaktallan asked.

"I'm calling about the extended warranty on your primary vehicle," the voice said.

"Is there something amiss with it?" Va'armo'o asked, feeling a slight tremble of worry.

"It appears that it needs an extension payment. As of right now you aren't covered in the event of any failure or mechanical breakdown," the voice said.

"Such as?" Va'armo'o asked.

"Oh, like if your vehicle spontaneously catches on fire," the voice said. "If that happens, you would be covered. Right now, you are not."

"Oh! Well, how can I rectify that?" Va'armo'o asked.

"I'll need your account number and banking routing number," the voice said.

"Oh, well. I would not want my car to suffer a breakdown and not be covered," Va'armo'o said. He quickly gave the caller his bank account information. Va'armo'o wrote down the phone number to call in if anything happened to his vehicle.

The caller thanked him and hung up and Va'armo'o hummed in pleasure, knowing his limousine was now covered in case of any mishap.

The com unit beeped again and Va'armo'o, still expressing pleasure, hit accept.

"Most High of System Transportation and System Va'armo'o," he said.

"Most High, this is Secu'umo'o, your Most High of Estate Security," Va'armo'o heard. "I'm afraid there is a problem with your limousine, Most High."

Va'armo'o frowned. "What? What is wrong with it? I have an extended warranty."

"It's... well, Most High, perhaps look out your window?" the bleeting functionary stammered.

"Very well," Va'armo'o said, swinging his chair around and looking out to the foggy night.

His limousine was perfectly visible.

And on fire.

Va'armo'o stared for a long moment, entranced by the dancing flames shooting out of the broken windows, out of the hood that had popped up, and out of the rear security hatch. Fear and concern started to fill him, breaking through the narco-cud. Then it suddenly dawned on him.

He was covered in case of vehicle fire!

Chuckling at his cleverness he turned back to his com-link and punched in the number he written on his desk in permanent marker.

"Nosferatu Extended Warranty Company, how may I help you?" a pleasant female voice asked.

"Yes, it appears my vehicle has spontaneously combusted," Va'armo'o said.

"Ah, yes, we are aware of this situation," the voice said.

"Oh, well, excellent," Va'armo'o said.

"If you look out the window, you should see the reason for your vehicle catching on fire," the voice said. "You will need to ask them for their System Identification Number in order for us to process your claim."

Va'armo'o turned around again in his chair and looked at the smartglass as he heard the com-link hang up and the disconnected tone sounded out.

The Night Terran stood right in the window, floating in mid-air, his cape flowing out behind him, waving and undulating in the wind, the end of the cape vanishing into the fog. His arms were folded in front of him, just under a medallion of gold decorated with red stones that rested on a white puffy shirt that was beneath his black clothing.

Va'armo'o squealed, standing up, stumbling off of his couch.

"It can't be, you're a fable, a myth, a fabrication," Va'armo'o said. The buzzed feeling filled him as the narcotic blended with the adrenaline coursing through his system.

The Night Terran suddenly dropped into the fog, vanishing.

Va'armo'o felt relief fill him as the Night Terran vanished. He stood there, for a long moment, expressing relief and pleasure at the fact the Night Terran had obviously fled from Va'armo'o's importance and high position.

He turned and moved back to the desk, pulling open a drawer and pulling out another wrapped wad of narco-cud. He undid the string, carefully unwrapped it, and jammed it into the other side of his mouth, chewing quickly.

The euphoric and stimulant raced through his system and he slowly stopped shaking, the fear pushed back by the heavy drugs traveling through his feeding tendrils and through the soft tissues of his mouth.

He got up and trotted over to the door, opening it slowly, watching behind him with his rear facing eyes.

The doorway held nothing but a view of his hallway, lavishly decorated. He snorted to himself, knowing for certain it had been the high quality narco-cud in his jowls that had made him hallucinate the Night Terran.

Feeling nothing but surety, he trotted down the hallway.

He was so sure of himself, he didn't even notice the lights flash twice.