Written for the Moonshine Grid at Yeah, Write. A story about drinking with an unusual alien assassin begins after the image.
Genre: Science Fiction
The Perfect Assassin
The metropolis of Ellis City near Corpus Christi was famed for it’s chocolate pubs and it’s exotic entertainments, but mostly for it’s aliens. Many of the 1.3 million extraterrestrial inhabitants waited there for acceptance as a citizen of Earth, but others arrived for the city’s bustling trade. A few were there to kill.
“I really appreciate this,” said Jun, looking into the mirror and noting she looked good. Her dark hair and Asian eyes were complimented by her dark dress. If anything, she wanted to look decent for once…when she died.
“No trouble at all,” said Vicolo. “Harrugans are a civilized people.” Vicolo looked much like a short-haired Llama, except he had six eyes, two pointing backward on a sagittal crest. From his upright torso two arms rested on the bar, jointed like mantis arms. “This is my first time in a Human bar. How does one order a drink?”
“Oh, Oop the bartender is here. She’s just showing off. Quit it, Oop.”
One moment the space behind the bar seemed empty, the next, a large octopus-like creature appeared. It fluttered its front two tentacles in the Antomarran equivalent of laughter. “What can I get you folks?” said a voice from a small box in front of Oop. Images and symbols flashed across Oop’s body in the Antomarran equivalent of speech.
“The usual for me, Oop, and…”
“Mocha for the gentleman?” asked Oop.
“Sorry, but chocolate doesn’t inebriate Harrugans like most aliens,” said Vicolo. “I’ll try this long island iced tea Jun told me about.”
Once Vicolo had his drink and Jun cradled her Mudslide, Oop said to Vicolo, “Does alcohol affect you like a Human?”
“Nothing does,” groused Jun. “No known poison works on them either. Vicolo is the perfect assassin, you see? He’s here to kill me today, but kind enough to allow me a few drinks before he does it.” She clinked glasses with Vicolo.
“It’s the civilized thing to do,” said Vicolo.
“All guns are disabled when entering Benny’s Pub,” warned Oop.
“He doesn’t need them. He’s unbelievably quick and strong.”
“A benefit of being born on a 2.4 gee planet,” said Vicolo.
“You seem resigned to your death, Jun,” said Oop. “This isn’t like you.”
“I don’t have a chance,” sighed Jun. “Harrugans are practically unkillable. With any energy discharge their body’s autonomic function warps them out of existence for a moment. So no guns work. They’re too fast in melee combat, and they’re immune to any poison. We could figure out a poison with a live specimen,” said Jun pointing angrily at Vicolo. “But they’re able to trigger their own suicide in captivity, so we’ve never figured it out.”
“The perfect assassin indeed, said Oops. She served another round of drinks. Vicolo’s ears perked up and he looked at Oop. “Did I see you pouring our drinks with fluid from your tentacles?”
“Antomarrans can create nearly any chemical in their bodies,” said Jun. “That’s why they make great bartenders.”
Vicolo took a sip. “Tastes good. The idea is a bit gross, though.”
“They can even simulate the hormone that triggers a Harrugan suicide,” said Jun, in a cold voice.
Vicolo dropped his glass with a strangled cry. He clutched at his chest.
“We needed a live specimen to test it. Thanks for volunteering.”
Vicolo shuddered and keeled over. Jun looked at the body over her shoulder and smiled. “Nice going, Agent Eight.”
Oop shuddered with pleasure.
She tapped her cheek with her pinky finger. The specific motion triggered a holo of a middle-aged man before her. “Status?” he said.
“Test complete and successful. Target eliminated thanks to Agent Eight.”
“Excellent!” said Controller 4. “I must admit I had my doubts about Eight.”
“I never did,” said Jun. “I always knew she would be the perfect assassin.”
The Moonshine Grid at Yeah, Write is an open writing prompt with no word limit. Perfect for the stories swirling about in my head. Here’s this week’s prompt: http://yeahwrite.me/moonshine-139