Page 23 of Close Encounters of the Hot Kind

CHAPTER 8

VARAK

"Three more sightings in Little Italy." I toss the holographic report across my desk. The blue light scatters like water droplets before reforming. "Teletran, analyze pattern."

"The Grolgath are moving in a standard search grid, sir. Their scanning equipment appears... primitive."

"Define primitive."

"By your people's standards? Stone tools and animal pelts."

"And by Earth standards?"

"Cold War era radiation detection. They might as well be using divining rods."

I stand and pace to the window. Chicago spreads before me, its lights twinkling in the growing dusk. Somewhere down there, beneath Papa Marella's worn tile floor, sits a weapon that could end everything. And Aileen has no idea.

"Sir, might I point out once again that your pheromone levels spike whenever you think about Ms. Marella?"

"Shut up, Teletran."

"The Grolgath readings concentrate here." A red dot appears on the holographic map. "Two blocks from the pizza place."

"Too close." My claws dig into my palm. The image inducer flickers, showing my true scaled hands for a moment before returning to human form.

"Indeed. Though their detection equipment is laughable, given enough time-"

"They'll find it."

"Like the proverbial blind squirrel and its nut, sir."

I tap my desk, bringing up more data streams. "Show me their patrol routes."

Blue lines crisscross the map, centered on Little Italy. With each pass, they edge closer to Aileen's restaurant.

"How long?"

"At current search patterns? Three days before they locate the energy signature."

Three days. My tail would be lashing if I wasn't maintaining human form. The Grolgath are zealots, true believers. They won't care who gets hurt when they dig up their precious weapon.

"Sir? Your pheromone levels are spiking again."

"Teletran?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Shut up."

"Pull up the Paris itinerary."

"Of course, sir. First class tickets, presidential suite at Le Meurice, dinner reservations at L'Abeille-"

"The weather?"

"Clear skies predicted for Monday. Perfect for your romantic endeavors with Ms. Marella."

I adjust my tie in the reflection of the window. Even with the image inducer at maximum power, something about my movements still seems... off. Too precise. Too measured.

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