Interlude
The city floated on anti-gravity, among clouds and above a planet composed mostly of water. The denizens of the city came in many shapes, spoke many languages, and were from all over. The lingua franca of the city was Galactic Common II, which was at least minimally intelligible to speakers of Galactic Common I and Galactic Common III. The differences in the three were not so much in either vocabulary or grammar, but based on the sheer ability of vocal cords to make particular sounds.
The planet had just a few substantial islands, occasionally visible below, as were a rather larger number of coral reefs. The surface of the planet, itself, wasn’t uninhabited, but the amphibious inhabitants had no more use for galactic society than that society did for them. The traded a little, here and there, for precious gems, especially glowpearls, some exotic seafoods, local art, and chemicals, going up, and waterproof finished products, generally of fairly high tech, going down.
A certain law enforcement agency of the Galactic Confederation made its headquarters in the floating city, largely because it was out of the way, but still only one jump away from a busy nexus of interstellar gates. This allowed a certain amount of control over comings and goings, as well as providing a reasonable degree of cover for necessary movements of the agency’s employees. That it was far from the seat of power was a definite bonus.
“There’s another Q’riln loose,” said the department chief, looking much like an enormous ambulatory mushroom with clusters of oysterlike, blue eyes around its cap, and half a dozen evenly spaced arms ending in four-digit hands. The chief spoke in Galactic Common II to a pair of well-tested agents, standing easily in front of his desk. These were Topaz and her mate, whose name translated to “Mica.” They were both humanoid, albeit a little larger than the human norm, with enormous eyes of green and gold, barely noticeable noses, and light blue skins. Some tendrils, graceful things, grew from their heads, as did full caps of something like yellow or golden hairy feathers.
“It’s been loose for quite some time, but we just found out.”
“It got through our interdiction and went through a gate on a planet called Earth or Terra or, like all the rest of them, something that, to the locals, means Home.”
“Oh, dear,” said Topaz. “One Q’riln can . . .”
“Wreck a planet, given time. If they just went around feasting on pre-existing misery, it wouldn’t be such a problem. Sentient beings can almost always create enough sheer torment and anguish to keep any number of Q’riln fed. But . . .”
“They’re never content with that,” said Mica. “A greedy species; they’ll start manufacturing trouble to keep themselves fat and happy.”
“Precisely,” said the chief. “What I want you two to do is to go to Earth—the fact that you’re both approximately humanoid will help keep the shifting pain down—find the Q’riln, and terminate it.”
“We have to kill it?” gasped Topaz. “I’ve never had to . . . we’ve never . . . Seriously? KILL it?”
“One of them we’d caught and deported back to their planet got loose again and went back to the planet it had previously been feeding on. It manufactured a nuclear war. Since then, the orders have come down to kill any Q’riln found off of its own home planet.”
“A nuclear war?” said Topaz. “Well, in that case, I suppose . . . I suppose that termination is all that’s left, isn’t it? I still hate the idea.”
“No matter what you hate,” said the chief. “Just so long as you do your duty.”
“What can we take with us?” asked Mica.
“No modern weapons. You’ll have your teardrops”—artificial intelligences not dissimilar, so far as was known in principle or in practice, to the Q’riln’s cube—“a primitive single shot pistol each, a sword and a dagger, each with elemental forjin in the blades, and a mobile Grade Five AI that we’ve already named ‘Mary,’ who will act as your child. She will grow, as needed and is equipped with a full suite of detection, decontamination, and unarmed self-defense capabilities.”
“That’s not very much to deal with when we’re talking about a well-fed Q’riln,” observed Mica.
“No, it isn’t,” the chief agreed, “but the Authority is getting very touchy about introducing ‘inappropriate technology’ to extremely primitive worlds. There’s even talk of cutting off trade with the amphibians, below, the Shreee!%$^nnn, though we’ve sent a few crates of local marine springtails to certain key members of the Authority, to keep them on side. This place would be dreary, indeed, without trade with the amphibians. That’s part of why this mission is important, too; if we can stop this Q’riln, then the Agency is enhanced with the Authority. If the Agency is enhanced, then trade is somewhat more likely to continue. Remember, too, that the sale of glowpearls pays about six percent—a very large chunk—of our budget!”
“We’ll do our best, chief,” said Topaz.
“I know you will. I’ve got to warn you in advance that this is a very dangerous and primitive world you’re going to. You’ll stop off at Subsector five, Department &^*, for immersion before you gate to Earth.
“Also,” the chief added, “if it helps any, there’s a large psychological hardship bonus in it for you after you’ve terminated the Q’riln.”