AGORA ONE - A SPACE ADVENTURE - SLICE 3

Will Agora One go to investigate what happened on Earth?

The trade show went on for days.  Delightful days, full of a flurry of market activity at breakneck speeds.  It had everything one could imagine, and a little extra.  From large, complex systems and inventions, to everything down to the simplest pleasure, like Frustidian fruit (a widely renowned delicacy).  

Thousands of young and old, thick and thin, from dozens of different intergalactic species that comprised the greater Space Agora, gave this grand event unfettered energy.  

There was one inventor, and one invention, that drew a great deal of interest and attention.  It was a young inventor who had a prototype for a time gun.  A TIME GUN.  What was a time gun, exactly? Well, the concept went something like this.  It could be set to a particular point in the past or future and pointed at a particular target.  For example, you could put it on a setting for twenty years in the past and fire it at a piece of firewood.  The molecules of the firewood would disappear to the casual viewer, and would re-emerge and rejoin the tree that it had come from, twenty years earlier.  This is a simple example, though.  What would happen if fired at a more complex object? Or, God forbid, a life form? A sentient being? 

The consequences of such an act could surely be negative on a vast scale.  It was with this in mind that ultimately led most individuals at the trade expo to view the timegun with a novel curiosity, but with enough skepticism and caution to write it off as undesirable.  Too risky.

Dejected, the young scientist left the famed expo.  Within hours, he was soon surrounded by interested parties which he, ironically, had no interest in.

His single ship and a security detail behind him were surrounded by a swarm of space pirates.  One of the insect-like pirates communicated to the scientist, “We have a keen interest in your work.”

The scientist told the space pirate that he had no interest in dealing with characters such as themselves.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter,” boomed the captain of the lead pirate ship.  “We’re taking your merchandise, with or without you."

“Your friend, Raw, the comedian, must have been joking, right? This is some type of crude form of human humor?”, Noc said with an amused candor.  Zay’s father, full-blooded Songardian, was pacing slowly and methodically as he spoke with his only child.  His frame was typical for his species.  Long and rangy, about 2.5 meters tall, with color-shifting, almost silk-like scales for skin.  His sparkling eyes danced with a calm confidence and he maintained a proud posture.

Zay shook her head at the pacing, life-sized hologram of her father that was in her living room, on the second tier of her living quarters of Agora One.  “It’s not a joke, but I agree with you, it’s out of the question.”

He turned and gazed penetratingly into his daughter.  “Why do you hang around with that boy, anyway?”

She cringed and put her hands on her hips as her tail swirled faster.  “He’s almost 30 Earth years, not exactly a boy.”

His chin pointed upward and his fiery eyes narrowed, “You’re not thinking of mating with this boy, are you? You’re my only child, after all.”

“Dad!” she screeched.  Now her tail was really whipping.  

“It’s a perfectly legitimate question,” he said stoically.  

She sighed strong enough to make the hologram of her father flicker.  “Anyway, I’ll tell Raw that going to Earth is out of the question.”

“Absolutely.”

“Ok, dad, I gotta go.”

Click.

Two holograms, more than 100 light years apart, flickered out.  Communication ended.  The father flicked his tongue rapidly and tried to refocus on his work, in an attempt to suppress his emotions.  The daughter whipped her tail quickly and let her emotions pulse even more frantically through her.  Why couldn’t she just have a normal family? Why was she literally the only one of her kind in the universe? Sometimes she felt like a science project gone wrong.  Born in a lab, consisting of two physically incompatible species.   

Tequi scratched thoughtfully at his salt-and-pepper scruff and stared at his inquisitor.  It was an interesting proposition, to be sure.  A time consuming one, but intriguing nevertheless.  “So you want to go to Earth, huh?”

Raw smirked and gazed confidently at his elder.  “Yep.  If Agora One won’t go, why not you? Why not me? I’d go myself, but don’t have the resources.  You know that.”

Tequi chuckled.  It was true.  Raw’s line of work wasn’t exactly the most lucrative, in terms of gaining capital and resources, anyway.  Raw, like most people, had his own space ship, but not one capable of intergalactic travel.  In old Earth terms, Raw had a horse and buggy, and Tequi had a private jet.  A fleet of private jets, actually, of all different types, styles, purposes, and capabilities.  

Tequi straightened his cap for the hundredth time that day.  “Let’s examine this, shall we? You want to go in order to gain historical knowledge and to see the possible ending of the long and sordid history of humanity on Earth.”

“Something like that.”

“So you can make more jokes.”

“No, no, no.  I’m a historian, first and foremost.  The only reason I do historical comedy is because it’s a more lucrative trade.  More people want to laugh than to listen to lectures.  So I find the darkly comedic side of things, and deliver it with no apologies.”

Tequi nodded in agreement, “And the human race on Earth gives you plenty of material in that regard, no doubt.”

Raw batted his droopy eyes and folded his paste-colored arms.  “No doubt.”

“So,” Tequi continued, “What’s in it for me? I must say, going back to the original source of agave sends a tingle through me.”

It was true.  No other place in the universe, at least that was known at the time, was home to a plant quite like agave.  There were similar ones on other planets, which Tequi’s family had used to make their product.  They had also made hybrids with the original agave seed that had been brought from Earth centuries earlier.  But to have original source material would make for fantastic trade possibilities.  Why hadn’t Tequi or anyone else gone to Earth from the greater Space Agora in all that time? It was quite simple, really.  Nobody in the Space Agora traded with individuals of reprehensible moral character, and Earth was chock full of ‘em.  All of the anarchists on Earth, centuries earlier, had invented their way out of a hellish society, basically, and never looked back.  And to all the species in the Space Agora, Earth was an afterthought, a backwards little territory not to be dealt with.  

“So tempting,” Tequi said as he smacked his lips.  He tapped his thin fingers methodically at the sidearm on his hip.  “We’ll need to get a crew together that’s adept at defense.  Who knows what happened over there or what we’ll find.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Raw said.

Tequi grinned.  “I wasn’t hinting that you should be the one to do it.  I was thinking out loud, more or less.”

“Gotcha.  Can I make a suggestion about the crew for this endeavor?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What?”

“Just kidding.  Go ahead.”

“Damn, you’re impossible to read sometimes.”

“I like to keep people guessing.”

“Anyway, do you think your personal assistant, Dans, could maybe sit this one out?”

Tequi chuckled, “You don’t like being hit on by a horny whirlwind of sand?”

Raw gave Tequi a cutting stare.

“Hey, I hear ya, Raw.  I hear ya.  Trust me, her behavior of late is making my skin crawl, to be honest, but two things here.  Number one, it’s only a natural phase of their species’ life process, so I can’t really fault her for it.  Number two, her species is very adept at defense.  She can change her shape fast enough to dodge some of the fastest firepower out there.  She’s damn near bulletproof.  On top of all that, she’s extremely loyal and, if it came down to it, she’d more than likely lay her life down for me.  Or you, for that matter. Most of her species are like that, don’t ya know?”

“No, I wasn’t aware.  But why would it come to that?”

“Hell if I know why it would come to that.  The thing is, though, they have the ability to swarm their.”

Raw interrupted, “Wait.  Yeah, I do know this.  They can swarm over an adversary with all of the particles that make up their body, and smother them.  And they’re almost impossible to break away from.  The catch is, though, that that is their last act.  If they make that move, they die.  Kind of like a bee.”

“Kind of like a bee,” Tequi agreed.  

“Ok, she’s in,” Raw relented.  He paused and admired a dark red moonlet outside.  Tequi’s suite, while not the swankiest on Agora One, still afforded a striking 180 degree view from its floor to ceiling windows.  “Ya know what would really be helpful, would be someone who lived on Earth before and knew the terrain.”

Tequi scoffed, “That would require someone that’s over 500 years old, as far as I know, and I’m fairly certain that the fountain of youth has yet to be found and humans don’t live that long. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Prove it.”

“You’re only thinking of humans.  There’s still an A.I. around, one of the original space pioneers from Earth.  It was there and could prove to be very helpful.”

“If you can track down such a wise old sage, be my guest.  Hell, if you can do that, I’ll even cut your share for the cost of the trip.”

“I thought my skill set more than covered my passage.”

Tequi snickered and stared.  Raw stared back just as hard.  Tequi broke, “Oh, come on, you must be kidding.  What kind of capital you sittin on?”

“You mean other than my swashbuckling, daring-do?”

Tequi groaned.

“I’ve got over a thousand Kutshockos, for starters.”

“That currency went belly-up, didn’t ya hear?”

Raw froze.  “Now you must be joking.  That currency was backed by an extensive mineral portfolio.”

“I wish I were joking, as I was holding a couple thousand of them myself.  When word got out that old man Kutshockos had disappeared into a Dizilos drug den for months and was smoking up all his profits, there was a mad sell-off and nobody would accept it anymore.  All that happened within a week.  Damn shame, too.”

“What happened to the mines?”

“Oh, they’re still operating.  Some of the mining operators got together and staked claim to the resources.”

They both shrugged.  “You win some, you lose some.  That’s the market.”

“That’s the market.”

Raw continued, “Anyway, I’ve still got a couple dozen other currencies, obligations, service credits, time credits, and resource credits from a couple different galaxies, so I’m sure we can work something out.” Raw, tired of being on the spot, decided to turn the tables on his older friend, “An even more important question is, who’s gonna pilot us all that way?”

“I am, of course.”

“So you won’t be drinking, right?”

“Aw, come on, a little tequila while flying above light speed is the only way to go, in my book," Tequi quipped.

“You know they used to have coercive regulations on Earth that prohibited people from even driving a ground vehicle after a beer.”

“Ya don’t say." Tequi paused and thought for a moment.  "But you can't get hurt in a ground vehicle if you're wearing a force field, so that doesn't make any sense."

Raw chuckled, "They didn't have force fields back then."

"Right."

Raw squeezed his eyes shut for a moment while he processed the unfettered ridiculousness of Tequi.  

Tequi fired back, “You think you can leave your girlfriend behind that long? We’ll be gone at least 6 months, round trip.”

“She’s busy with work, anyway. And then there’s, well,” he paused.

“Well, what?”

Raw gave a sour look and rubbed his neck.  “Her father is impossible.”

“Yeah, Songardians are notorious for the ruthless and unbending protection of their offspring.”

Tequi got lost in a four-dimensional piece of art in his suite.  Raw broke him from his art-induced trance, “Hey, Tequi…..Tequi!”

He looked at Raw, annoyed, “Captivating, isn’t it? Right, anyway, I’ll have to find someone to look after my affairs for a while.”

“And I’ll have to broadcast my act from your ship.  And you’ll have a front row seat.”

“I’ve seen your act three times, and ya know, Raw, that’s three times too many.  I’ll make sure my soundproofers are activated.”

Raw groaned.  He loved and hated Tequi all at the same time.  

Slice 4 Coming Soon!

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Please note:  While Agora One can be read as a standalone, I recommend finishing the James Bong series first, and reading SeAgora second, as Agora One is the final installment of a loosely interlocking trilogy.