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THEY CAME FROM BEYOND
episode 4
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Baraka made it to the Galaxia Deluxe. The air-lock took longer
than normal. Baraka's fear of being trapped reached an all-time
peak, despite the apparently normal people sharing the air-lock
with him. He had his hand in his pouch ready to draw his plastic
pistol when the inner doors started to open. He thought he heard
a scream...
He started to draw his weapon, but realized it was nothing more
than bad bearings on one of the door motors. Baraka sighed
deeply, and just stood there as the others left the air-lock for
the hotel's busy lobby. Baraka poked his head out, looking first
to the left, then to the right. The people looked normal enough.
With a slight smile on his bugeyed face, Baraka weaved his way to
the public vidcomms. He slid his credcard into the slot and
keyed in a sequence. The screen said "Calling James L. Tiberius.
Waiting for answer, please stand by..." Baraka wondered why the
phone had no voice. Still slightly paranoid, as he waited Baraka
glanced from individual to individual in the lobby to see if he
could spot any that were not quite normal. He couldn't.
"Baraka, how many times have I told you never to call me here?"
The man on the screen was in his fifties, his face covered with 3
days growth of grey whiskers.
Startled, Baraka replied, "James, am I GLAD to see YOU. My cover
is blown. I'm choking. You've got to help me!"
"I'm retired, remember? Call the precinct."
Baraka couldn't stand his friend's condescending tone, it almost
always frustrated him. "There's something weird going on in that
neighborhood. I'd be a sitting duck in there."
"You and your paranoia. You'll be fine."
Baraka started to raise his voice, but remembered where he was
and moved in closer to the mic instead. "They're insane. I
killed two of them."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Baraka, looking quite serious now, stared into the vid-dot
sitting just above the phone's screen and lied through his teeth.
"Two of Eddy's boys came to get me. I killed them both. I had
to, or I was dead meat." Well, at least it was partially true.
He was trying to follow Jorga Porshe's example -- don't tell the
truth if it will land you in the funny farm.
"Where are the bodies? What did you do with the bodies?"
Baraka slapped his hand over the speaker, and leaned closer to
the mic, and whispered loudly, "Keep it down, would ya? There
are people all around."
Jim said something, but he couldn't hear him.
Baraka wanted him to see the bodies, or at least what was left of
them. He fantasized about being Jorga Porshe, suave, always with
the right plan, and the right thing to say. "Physical evidence,"
he mumbled to himself, as his hand slid down off the speaker.
"What?" Jim was obviously getting irritated. "What evidence?
Where's the murder weapon?"
Baraka's mind began to wander. *Baraaaaaaka* *Baraaaaaaka*
"Baraka!"
He snapped out of it, glad to be free of the horrifying
flashback. He started to puke, but was already emptied out.
Jim was convinced something was up. "Where are the bodies?"
"In my apartment."
The ex-detective paused, then stated sternly. "Baraka, I want
you to stay where you are. I'm going to call the precinct now.
Everything is going to be okay."
Baraka, looking quite pekid, shook his head slowly. "You owe
me. I need your help."
There was a long pause.
Years ago, when Detective Tiberius was undercover to bust up a
small exodrine smuggling operation, Baraka had saved his life.
Had James taken that drink, he wouldn't be alive today. He
befriended Baraka after that, and swore that he would repay the
deed. "If ever you need my help," he had said, "I'll be
there."
Jim took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll see you at your apartment."
Baraka's eye's grew wide. "No way! I'm not going back there."
"Meet me there in 1/2 an hour." Bzzzt. The screen went blank.
The words "Thankyou for using Telequick" appeared on the screen.
It was quite comfortable in the lobby, yet, despite his jumpsuit,
Baraka was shivering. He didn't feel very good.
*Baraaaaaaka*
To be continued...
Rodge