Bresi the Chill crawled over the motel bed to-wards the girl. The hideous Plutonian crustacean and gangster, known as “The Chill” due to his particular cold-heartedness when sent by the Syndicate on hit jobs, had picked up the blonde Neptunian prostitute at a near by bar here on the moon of Pluto known as Charon. Bresi liked the girls from Neptune. They were humans who were descended from colonists from an ancient Earth-based civilisation called Atlantis, and he found them so much softer and warmer than the females of his own crayfish-like race.
This chick was particularly hot, thought Bresi, what with her long, fair hair, her white skin, her blue eyes, her red lips, and her tall, statuesque figure. He particularly liked her full, firm, mammalian breasts.
“What did you say your name was again?” asked Bresi.
“Honoria,” she replied, managing a stage smile for the horrid alien.
“Classy,” he said. “I’m Bresi. You been on Charon long?”
“Not really,” replied Honoria. “I’m kind of new to this.”
“Oh, I like that,” said the Plutonian. “You are some young stuff, you are.”
By now, Bresi was really getting into the bizarre interspecies encounter. He did not notice her hand reaching below the pillow, into the handbag that she had secreted there when they had first entered the motel.
“Oh yeah!” cried the human-sized crayfish. “You're a good one, girlie! I might set you up on Pluto so I can see you all the time.”
“Sounds good,” replied the girl. “What part of Pluto are you from?”
“Oh, Yuggoth, of course,” answered Bresi. “My boss has his work right there in the big city.”
“Oh, is he a politician or something?”
“No,” laughed the Plutonian. “No, nothing like that. He’s a… businessman, y’know. He runs a lot of business in the Solar System, and it’s getting bigger everyday.”
“What’s his name?” queried Honoria.
“Cuevas,” replied Bresi. “We call him Capo Cuevas. The Big Boss. Oh yeah!”
With this, the crustacean was just about to crawl away from the girl when she suddenly pulled a small energy gun from under the pillow and fired it at close range right between his fishy eyes. Bresi screeched in pain and rage and slipped off the bed onto the floor.
Honoria then quickly went to work. She took another device from her handbag. It was a small scanning system, and she ran it over the Plutonian’s body and then looked at the readings.
“Yes,” she said to herself. “That should do.”
The girl then attached the scanner to a communications device and spoke into it.
“This is Agent Honoria of Neptune Planetary Security speaking over a secure channel,” she said. “I’m sending you the bio-scan of the Plutonian, and have verified that he is part of the Cuevas Syndicate.”
Nevertheless, when she was talking Honoria failed to notice that Bresi was still stirring. The blast from her gun had not quite yet killed him. He reached one of his clawed hands out and grasped the laser pistol from the clothing he had earlier left next to the bed. With his last burst of strength, he raised the gun and fired at the girl before himself expiring on the floor.
The laser hit Honoria right between her breasts, killing her instantly. She fell back lifelessly with the gaping hole in her chest still smoking, and dropped the communicator onto the bed.
A man’s voice came from the communicator. It was the voice of the NPS Chief.
“Good work, Agent Honoria,” he said. “We’ll get this info to our allied Kosmikos Operatives right away. Oh, and someone will be right there to help you dispose of the corpse. Are you there? Agent, are you there?” …
My name is RUMANOS -- DOCTOR DANIEL RUMANOS, Extraterrestrial Espionage Agent and Intergalactic Man of Mystery. Even though I have the physical appearance of an human being, I am in fact several thousands of years old and do carry within my blood the vastly superior genes of the legendary Watchers of the Daemon-Star ALGOL -- the most intellectually-advanced race in all of the known galaxies, whose technology is so sophisticated it often appears to be “magic” and “miraculous” to lesser beings.
Whilst most Algolites tend to keep to themselves, preferring to live in elitist seclusion from the rest of the Universe and thus merely observing the goings-on of the myriad races of the vast reaches around them, I am an Operative for a secret organisation known as the KOSMIKOS or Cosmic Intervention Department, tasked with maintaining peace and order throughout the farthest reaches of Space and Time. You know, “plausible deniability”, and all of that sort of thing. It is our ongoing mission to defend the weak, the unfortunate, and the innocent from those who would harm or exploit them.
Currently assigned to Earth, I protect its people (both upon their own planet and across the eternal void) from the hideous manipulations of the arch-villain known as Magister Don Wingus and his occult terrorist organisation, Spectral Paranormal; as well as from alien invasions, mad scientists, and indeed all manner of menace. Assisted by my friends -- the beautiful young starlet Miss Millie "The Girl From Beyond" Drake and our catlike robot, Kit-10 -- I am the living icon of Algol on this world. I am a Knight of the Eternal Spires. I am the sword of justice from the planet Daemonia. I am the stellar swashbuckler.
I am -- THE DAEMON-STAR!!! …
“The ravioli on Pluto is quite good,” said I, as Millie Drake and I sat in the booth examining the menus. “Of course, everything here is served cold and made from the various forms of fungus that grow in the ice swamps.”
We were at a small establishment, Tassio’s, located in the city of Yuggoth. I was clad in my usual finery, including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, and one of my favourite opera capes.
Millie is an exceedingly beautiful girl, petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, a sun-kissed complexion, enchanting violet eyes, and a wide, sensuous mouth. She was wearing a short, tight, cherry-red dress that only served to accent the soft curves of her slender teenage figure.
Also with us was Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat. The little robot sat quietly next to our booth.
We had come to Pluto as part of our continued pursuit of the Cuevas Crime Family, having already dealt with their attempts to smuggle and distribute the horrible narcotic drug cadebium on the planets Uranus and Neptune.
“I’ll try the ravioli then,” agreed Millie. “So Daniel, did you hear from the NPS?”
“Yes I did, Mills,” I answered, checking the small communication device that lay on the table before me. “They sent it by encrypted message, of course, but it says that Agent Honoria gave her life to get the information we needed. Now if the Neptunians can just get the Plutonian government to agree to action being taken against the criminal syndicates here, it would be a great help to us. The gangs have secretly controlled so much business on Pluto for so many long years, that the government has unfortunately learned to just look the other way, hmmm?”
“Don’t the orbits of Neptune and Pluto cross each other?” enquired the girl.
“Indeed they do, love,” I affirmed. “Because of this, the fate of the two worlds has always been someone intertwined, despite their vast differences in culture.”
The waitress, a fat Plutonian crustacean, shuffled over to our table.
“You two ready to order?” she asked, holding a pen and small pad of paper in two of her clawed hands.
“Yes,” I said, “we will both have the… ”
I stopped when I looked up and saw the sudden expression of horror in the waitress’s fishy eyes. She had glanced out the large front window of the diner and seen something. She immediately shrieked in terror and scuttled back to-wards the relative safety of the kitchen area.
Without wasting a moment, I grabbed Millie and pulled her with me under the table. We got there just before the window shattered into countless pieces and the noise of energy machinegun fire filled the air. Millie held tight to me in fear whilst the gunfire continued. When it finally ceased, we heard the front door of the restaurant open and the sound of numerous crustaceous feet upon the waxed floor.
Millie and I came out from under the table. There was no hiding from our assailants. There were three of the crayfish-like gangsters, and one of them was holding the machinegun. None the less, it was the fourth figure that drew most of my interest. He was humanoid, and strode into the establishment with a stride of haughty arrogance. He was dressed in a black suit topped with a flowing cape of the same ebon hue.
His face was like unto that of a man of middle years, still showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the look of seeming lifetimes of obscene profligate wickedness. Of course, I recognised him immediately. I recognised him as the most notorious criminal in all of Space and Time, my oldest and most bitter enemy, that renegade of my own race who had devoted his very existence to evil.
It was Don Wingus!
“You!” I exclaimed. “I should have known. So you did escape from Shenaskah.”
“Well, Doctor Rumanos and your little learning curve,” mocked the villain as he eyed me standing with the girl. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, but we had some business to carry out.”
“An attempted double murder, you mean,” I replied. “We already knew that this diner was being used as a front for the operations of the Cuevas Syndicate, and that they had made some highly secretive connections of late, but why by the Triple Star would you be working with these lowlife Plutonian mobsters, Wingus?”
“You underestimate them, Rumanos,” he grinned evilly. “With the distribution of cadebium, the Cuevas Family will create a gangland empire like no other. They will subjugate and enslave all the planets of this Solar System -- including Earth, the people of which you are most sworn to protect!”
“So that is it,” I said, being careful that neither Wingus nor the hideous gangsters saw what I had hidden in the sleeve of my jacket, and was even now sliding into my hand.. “You are helping the Plutonian criminals just to annoy me? To discredit me as a Kosmikos Agent?”
“Oh of course,” affirmed Don Wingus. “You have harassed me across the Universe for far too long. It is about time to see you suffer some disgrace, in stead of being treated like some ridiculous gigachad saint. When this system becomes known throughout the Milky Way Galaxy as being filled with hopeless drug addicts, your failures here will be something you shall never be able to live down!”
As he spoke the final word of his tirade, I activated the device in my hand. It was the transonic turnscrew, an highly-advanced scientific instrument that rather resembles the shape of a writing pen.
At this, the Plutonian gangster that had been holding the machinegun yelped and suddenly dropped the weapon.
“What the… ?!” he stammered. “It got hot!”
Before anyone else could react, I leapt forward and kicked the firearm away from us. It slid under one of the tables at the far end of the diner.
“Kit-10!” I heard Millie cry out. “Stun the Plutonians!”
The robot cat, who until now had been standing to the side, realizing the danger of any sudden reaction when the gangster had had the machinegun trained upon us, now shot out three quick blasts of her nose laser, one by one causing the crustaceous criminals to fall unconscious to the floor.
“Good shooting, Kit-10!” cheered the girl.
“Of course, m--,” replied the robotic puss in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice.
(It should be noted here that Kit-10, along with her other catlike qualities, is possessed of a total inability to openly show respect for anyone. The closest she ever comes to it is by referring to me by a slight “s--” sound -- for “sir” -- and to Millie by “m--” -- for “ma’am”.)
At the same time, Don Wingus had run over and started to wrestle me away from the others. We grappled and ending up crashing into the counter of the restaurant. He had his hands around my throat and was attempting to throttle me, but I managed to deliver a blow to his forehead with the heal of my hand. At this, he lost his grip and staggered backwards, but soon came back with a punch to my face. I responded in kind, and then added a kick to his midsection. At this, Wingus reached over and picked up a knife, of the type utilised for slicing large loaves of bread, from behind the counter. I quickly dodged as he came at me with the serrated blade, then reaching my foot out behind his heal to cause him to trip over backwards. He lost his hold on the knife, which then clattered to the floor.
Before Don Wingus could again gain his feet, I applied a Daemonian jujitsu hold to the side of his neck that caused him to slip into unconsciousness.
My fight with Wingus was over just in time for me to hear Millie Drake scream.
I whirled around to see what was happening. Millie had been clasped from behind by another Plutonian; one who had apparently come up from a trapdoor that had opened in the floor of the diner. Kit-10 was near by them, but obviously dared not fire on the assailant, who was now using the helpless young girl as a shield.
I looked at the creature holding Millie. He was indeed another of the human-sized crustaceans, but looked somehow more intelligent, more sly and cunning, than the others.
“Hello, Doctor Rumanos,” hissed the hideous Plutonian. “I am Capo Cuevas, and your latest attempt to interfere with our Family is finished. I’m taking this little girlie of yours as insurance!”
With this, the horrid criminal crayfish stepped back and jumped through the hole in the floor, taking the girl with him. The trapdoor began to shut behind them.
Without an instant of delay, I rushed forward and jumped through the opening, getting through just before the trapdoor banged shut above me. I fell far, finally hitting ground in what felt like mud.
After a moment to catch my breath, I stood up and looked around. I was in a large underground chamber, obviously built out of the very swamps of the dwarf planet. There was a ladder made of vines reaching up to the now-closed trapdoor. Amongst the fungal growths were various items of technology, computer systems and monitors with which, I quickly realised, the hideous Cuevas creature ran the daily operations of his criminal empire!
“Well now, Doctor,” I heard the Plutonian say, “you do tend to drop in unexpectedly, don’t you? Welcome to the headquarters of the Cuevas Syndicate. I trust you will not enjoy your stay.”
I turned to face Capo Cuevas. He was seated on a sort of throne made from the trunk of some dead marsh tree. Close by was a cage made of brambles in which he had imprisoned Millie Drake.
“You have failed, Algolite,” sneered Cuevas. “You will not stop us as we spread cadebium throughout the Solar System. Soon I will be Boss of All Bosses over every civilisation orbiting the Sun! As for this girlie of yours, she will be properly conditioned and then employed as an escort, or at one of our massage parlours. A fitting cap to your shame and defeat, don’t you think, Daemonian?”
I looked at the sickening crustacean with unhidden disdain and disgust as he laughed his mirthless laugh of triumph.
“Oh, and don’t bother to try anything with that transonic device of yours,” added the crustaceous crime-lord. “It has been safeguarded against your Algolitish technology here thanks to our mutual acquaintance, Underboss Wingus.”
“‘Underboss’?" I repeated, not being able to repress a chuckle at this, despite the situation which we were now in. “Figures you would welcome him into your wretched mob. You and he are two of a kind. In fact, I would not be surprised if…”
I was then interrupted by something that, in truth, I had been expecting. It was the sound of artillery striking very near above our location.
“What!” exclaimed Cuevas. “What is that?!”
“That is the Neptunian Space Navy,” said I. “It appears they have accomplished their negotiations with the government of Pluto and are now fully authorised to wipe this world clean of your filthy crime family once and for all. They will be bombing this location according to the coordinates that we have supplied them.”
It was then that Capo Cuevas suddenly drew a laser gun and fired at me. His quickness made his aim unsure and the blast missed me, albeit by a mere fraction of an inch. This, however, was enough to distract me whilst he suddenly scuttled away, heading for the ladder to the trapdoor.
“Daniel!” Millie shouted. “He’s escaping!”
I quickly pulled the transonic turnscrew from the pocket of my jacket and aimed it at the Plutonian gangster. He had just reached the foot of the ladder when I activated my device. Capo Cuevas shrieked in pain and outrage at the power that then hit him.
“What is this, Algolite?!” he bellowed. “What have you done?!!”
“Well you see, Cuevas,” I rejoined, “your equipment here may be shielded against our technology, but you are not. Your biology, I mean. Bresi the Chill was your cousin, hmmm? Thanks to the body scan that Agent Honoria got just before her unfortunate death, we managed to isolate your DNA and create a setting for the transonic that scrambles your specific bodily functions. Hurts, hmmm? Now of course, this sort of thing only works on lower forms of life like, well, crayfish for example.”
As I spoke, the form of the crustaceous criminal shook and shuddered, as he screeched in agony, Finally, his body just burst open and fell to pieces into the mud of the eldritch swamp.
By now, the very ground was rocking with vibrations from the bombardment above us. I ran over and freed Millie Drake from the cage and we ran over to the ladder.
“My gosh, Daniel!” exclaimed Millie. “This reminds me of that air raid we were in on Earth that time! Remember that?”
“Quite so,” I affirmed. “The Kaiser’s zeppelins were indeed an infernal machine, but the Neptunians are on our side. We just have to get out of the way so we are not caught by ‘friendly fire’! Ladies first.”
With this, Millie began to climb the ladder with me close behind her.
“But Daniel,” said the girl back to me, “what about the trapdoor? We don’t know the code he used to open it.”
“Worry not, love,” I assured her. “We can be certain that Kit-10 has figured out that little problem by now.”
And indeed, by the time we reached the top of the ladder, the trapdoor had opened as the mechanical cat had managed to decode and remotely activate the lock mechanism.
“Good work, Kit-10!” I praised when we had emerged from the aperture.
“Of course, s--,” replied the computerised kitten.
By now, parts of the diner were beginning to fall in from the bombing the area was receiving from the Neptunian Space Navy. I ushered Millie Drake and Kit-10 to the door with me slightly behind them.
Then, just as they had gone out I suddenly found myself being pulled backwards. Something or someone had grasped onto my cape and was bringing me back into the diner. I managed to turn around enough to see that it was Don Wingus. He had recovered consciousness and was now attempting to drag me to my death in the fiery collapse of the building.
I wrestled with him, and we fell down to the floor just as the roof itself caved in!
Do you recognise the horror, in truth the supreme and unholy terror of this situation, my dear friends and loyal readers? The arch-villain Don Wingus, forsooth my oldest and most unspeakably dangerous foe, was attempting to bring about my death -- even if it also meant his own -- amidst the flaming conflagration of that military barrage!
“Not this time, Rumanos,” he scorned as the building started to collapse around us. “You will not get away from me this time. You will die amongst the bedlam that your damned chad crusader meddling has brought about!”
“Spires of Daemonia!” I swore whilst we continued to grapple.. “Did you actually just call me a ‘chad’? Yes, I do believe I heard you say that earlier, as well. I say, old chap, have you now picked up incel slang from those pathetic Spectral Paranormal followers of yours on Earth?”
My speech managed to distract Wingus just enough that I could step back a bit and bring my knee up into his stomach. I then delivered a fist to his face that sent him reeling. He fell backwards a few metres away from me, just as a large portion of the ceiling fell in upon him and he was engulfed in flames.
I turned and fled from the burning diner just in time to run into Millie Drake and Kit-10, who were returning to see what had happened to me. The sight of me now running out of the building turned them back around and together we escaped, running to a safe distance from the area of the bombardment.
The sky was full of spaceships, a good portion of the fleet of the Neptunian Space Navy. As we watched, the entire area of what had been the headquarters of the horrible Cuevas Family Crime Syndicate went up in the massive conflagration.
I heard a signal and then pulled the small communications device from my jacket pocket. On the video screen of the communicator was the image of a man. Resplendent in his naval uniform and his iron grey beard, he was strong and handsome of aspect despite his somewhat advanced years.
“Doctor Rumanos and Miss Drake,” he said, his voice one of firm and noble command. “It is good to see that you are safe. As prearranged, we began the attack as soon as we were authorised to do so.”
“You have our thanks, Admiral Lartheun, for your important role in ridding the Solar System of that criminal gang,” I told him, “and congratulations on your much-deserved promotion.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” he replied. “The people of Neptune, indeed the entire Solar System, have a great debt of gratitude to you. A shuttle will be arriving to transport you off Pluto. May the gods bless you always.”
And with this, the admiral’s image faded from the screen.
I stood with Millie Drake and Kit-10, watching the smoke rise from the ruins of the late mobster’s headquarters.
“Daniel,” said the girl as I took her hand, “do you think we’ve really seen the last of the Plutonian gangsters?”
“For a while, anyway,” I told her. “The Cuevas Syndicate is finished, but organised crime is, unfortunately enough, a longstanding tradition in the lower echelons of Plutonian culture. Eventually, others will attempt to gain a foothold on the system -- or perhaps I should say a ‘claw hold’!”
“Well, we will be ready for them, right?” queried the lovely lass.
“Indeed, we must be, love,” I affirmed. “We must be!”
A small spaceship was now landing near by. It was our shuttle.
“I say, Mills, my dear,” I mused, “we never managed to get lunch, did we? What do you say to us visiting one of the finest restaurants in New Atlantis when we get to Neptune? We should just have time for a fine repast before then returning to Earth.”
“That sounds nice!” cheered the girl.
“Indeed, I must say I am very much looking forward to it,” I added as we went to meet the space-shuttle. “The Neptunians have a type of flatbread pizza that is quite fantastic!”
***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN
