Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lila
The room we enter is empty, and it looks like an interrogation room, with just a table in the middle and a few chairs on either side. Covering the table is a whole bunch of paperwork. I feel Eric sigh beside me.
“Agent Smith, how many times do I need to tell you that paperwork is meaningless to us? Everything needs to be digital for our records.”
The smarmy, self-important grin doesn’t leave Agent Smith’s face as he takes a seat, placing his sunglasses on the table before picking up a pen.
“Ah, but you know we need paper for our records.” He passes Eric the pen, who glares at it like it’s offending him, before he hands it over to me.
I take it, but I call bullshit. I know almost everything is done electronically on Earth now too. He gets off on making things inconvenient, and his assholeness is wearing on my nerves.
“Okay, so you need to sign here, here, and here.” Smith points out three separate places to sign on a page, but frowns when I don’t instantly comply.
“What is the legal process for aliens? Are they entitled to representation and allowed to defend themselves against the crimes they have supposedly committed?” I ask the agent, taking a seat next to him.
Eric hides a smirk and sits on the other side of the table, crossing his arms and waiting for a response.
I’m sure he already knows the answer, but I can tell my question has annoyed the agent, and Eric seems childishly pleased about it.
His reaction is only encouraging me to ruffle the Earth liaison’s feathers even more.
“Well of course not, they are aliens. How would we explain this to a lawyer?” Agent Smith sneers, talking to me like I’m a brainless twit, and I shrug.
“I’m almost certain we could provide an alien lawyer if need be.” I look at my grandpa, and he nods, remaining silent.
“Absolutely not! They broke the rules. One strike, and you’re out,” Smith snaps. I see spit fly from his mouth, landing as little wet specks on the papers and the table. Ha! Clearly I hit a nerve, and his temper is getting the better of him.
“I get the feeling that you don’t like aliens, Agent Smith.
Are you sure you are the right person for this job?
Maybe we need to speak to your supervisors.
I’m sure there is something in the American constitution about being given due process.
” I’m completely bullshitting at this point.
I have no idea if there is or not, but I’m feeling defensive.
I’m also internally freaking out about Mark and Susie, but I don’t want him to see that, so I’m distracting him with smoke and mirrors.
Isn’t that what the circus is all about?
Smith splutters, unable to form words, before growling and stabbing at the paperwork. “Just sign the papers, Miss Adams, or maybe we can revoke the rights of every alien on Earth if I speak to my superiors.” His threat finally has my grandpa reacting. He sits up in his chair and leans forward.
“Now, Agent Smith, I’m sure the president would be unhappy to hear that we will no longer be negotiating alien technology for him, if that’s the case. I think making this decision is above your paygrade.”
Agent Smith scoffs. “Technology? Please, you haven’t provided anything interesting since you handed over the plans for virtual reality headsets. Our requests for advanced weapons have gone on deaf ears.”
This gets an even bigger reaction out of Eric, as he stands up and slams his hands on the table, the noise echoing through the room.
“The one time we did offer you advanced weapons technology, you blew up Japan. No, you have proven incapable or not advanced enough to handle that kind of responsibility.” The two of them are involved in a heavy stare down, and I have a feeling this is not the first time this argument has come up.
“Okay, fine. Look, how about you read the charges, and I will sign off on them? Let’s get this show moving, because we have places to be.
” I try to diffuse the tension from the room.
It doesn’t seem to have much of an effect, but it is the distraction they need. Smith stabs at the first bit of paper.
“Crimson, race Vilaxian, Savannah, race Celestian, Xane, race Warlock” —hearing Xavier’s cousin’s name has my eyebrows jumping in surprise, since I would have expected him to avoid capture if he’s anything like Xavier— “and Aura Gasm, race Morpheian. All four are management at the Pleasure Inn and have been found guilty of harboring humans on the premises, as well as an alien with no authorization to be on the planet. All have been stripped of their residence status and must be detained and punished by relevant authorities. I trust you will see they are punished to the full extent of the law.”
Eric goes to argue, but Agent Smith rudely holds up his hand.
“I haven’t finished. Ricky, race Cybertronian.
He is the unauthorized alien. We have interrogated him, but he has no knowledge regarding how he came to be on Earth, or so he says, and Master Gasm is denying knowing as well.
He said Ricky arrived on his doorstep with a spell on him.
He thought he was a...” He looks down at his notes and frowns.
“Sex robot. What is a sex robot? Are there other kinds of robots? War robots? Why don’t we know any of this?
” His nostrils flare, and his lips turn white as he snaps these questions.
Eric rolls his eyes while I snort at his ridiculousness. “You are on a need to know basis, Agent Smith. I’m sure if you needed to know about any kind of robot, then your superiors would tell you. Just think of them as a big blow-up doll. They are not really all that scary when you think about it.”
“Nope, they are programmed to fuck,” I state blandly, and Agent Smith shifts his focus to me and narrows his eyes.
“They are hardly the ‘take over the world’ kind of variety. Plus, robots are the least of your worries if any alien species turned their focus on Earth. How about we forget about the sex bots and focus back on the fact that—Ricky, was it?—seems to have been kidnapped and Master Gasm was set up.”
“None of that is my problem, Miss Adams. They broke the laws, so they have to go. Lastly, before I was rudely interrupted, is Mark Simmons, race Celestian.” The smug smile that appears on his lips makes me want to slap it off him.
My mouth drops open in shock, and I exchange a glance with Eric before shaking my head. “No, that’s not right, Mark’s from Earth. He’s not an alien.”
“Oh, I assure you he is, or that’s what they all claim.
They also claim the other one, Susie, is Skarrian.
I’m sure you can understand how I find that hard to believe, and if they are both here, unregistered, then they need to be deported as well.
” This fucking prick has a set of brass balls for being as mouthy as he is.
“Well, there is one way to get to the bottom of this. I will have our warlock come down, and he will ascertain the truth.” Eric shrugs his shoulder, relaxed in his chair like Agent Smith hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on us.
I’m not sure how he’s holding it together.
My body is practically vibrating with agitation, and the fangs in my gums are throbbing with the need to rip this motherfucker’s throat out.
Oh dear.
Shit, shit, shit. This is not what I need right now.
Smith stiffens, pales minutely, and mutters something under his breath that I miss even with my uber sensitive hearing. He pushes back the chair, the screeching sound loud in the nearly empty room.
“Fine, I will escort him here.”
“Oh, and Smith, don’t pull any of that weapon crap on him. He won’t be as nice about it as I was,” my grandpa warns as he opens the door. Smith nods and leaves, the door banging shut ominously behind him.
Eric lifts his watch to his mouth and presses a button. “Xavier, get your fucking ass down here. We have a problem.”
“I’ll be there soon,” is the tinny reply, and I see my grandpa heave out a sigh of relief. He must be really worried, but he’s doing an amazing job of hiding it. I wish I had the ability to keep my worry locked down tight too.
I start to ask a question, but he holds his hand up and tugs on his ear. “Wait until Xavier gets here.”
I nod my understanding, and we sit in silence. Everything we had just found out rolls around in my brain.
Mark and Susie are aliens?
Surely that’s just a cover they are telling the authorities.
I can’t deny I’m dying to see them. I want to get to the bottom of everything, and I can’t wait to get out of here.
The longer we sit, the more the creepy vibe seems to stick to my skin, and it’s all I can do not to scratch at my arms to remove the phantom feeling.
I wonder if my grandpa feels the same way.
Within ten minutes, the door opens again, and Xavier, shrouded in mist, steps into the room followed by an even more agitated Agent Smith.
His skin has the redness of someone who is angry, and his fists are clenched at his sides.
“I demand that you go back and return my men to the ground,” he yells at Xavier.
I can’t see my warlock’s face, but I can guarantee he’s wearing that infuriating smirk, and I struggle to contain my own.
“How many times are your men going to point those insignificant weapons at me before you realize they are useless, Agent Smith? It really is quite insulting that you continue to do it every time I come here.” Xavier’s tone is all imposing warlock, loud, and defiant, and basically a big fuck you to Agent Smith.
He is so getting a blow job when we get back to the ship.
“I did warn you,” Eric chimes in, still perfecting an unconcerned pose.
“If you could give us a moment so we can get the warlock up to speed on the situation, that would be great. If I had known we were going to be escorting so many prisoners, I would have asked him to accompany me in the first place.”