Guns And Dogs (26 page)

Randal slapped his knee. “I say Mister Scott that sounds like a grand idea.” He looked at Argos hopefully. “What about you Son? What do you think?”

Argos was silent for a moment before he lifted his head off his desk. He looked at the two puppies and the warm feeling in his heart that was missing since Rusty’s death slowly returned. The two puppies looked up at Argos, and stared at him intently, as if waiting for his answer.

Argos chuckled. “I’d say it’s a damn fine idea, Scott; a damn fine idea.”

AL Command Center

Johnny watched on the main viewscreen as the Lycarian fleet halted its advance towards Earth. They’d been sitting outside the moon’s orbit since the failure of Omega Day. They’d prevented the rest of the planned global school shootings, and all of its participants were arrested by their respective authorities. “They’re probably wondering what happened,” Johnny said, pointing at the stationary fleet. “Waiting to hear back from their buddy Grendis.”

“Then let’s not keep them waiting any longer, Mr. Veto,” Director Mitchell said with a smile. “Send a transmission directed at the Lycarian fleet,” he ordered one of the communication operatives. “Request communications.” He assumed a poker face. “Tell them it’s about Grendis.”

Moments later the tactical display on the main viewscreen disappeared and was replaced by a helmed werewolf-like creature sitting in a command chair in the center of a bridge. He gripped a large scepter in one of his hairy muscular fists. “What is the meaning of this?” the werewolf barked. “Where is Grendis?”

“I’m Director Otis Mitchell of the Earth agency AL Command. I’m sorry to report that your agent has been arrested and now being detained. Your various attempts at manipulating our history in order to conquer our planet have failed. By the power invested in me by Earth’s leading governments, I order you to leave this system immediately.”

The brawny werewolf exploded into a burst of raucous laughter. “I don’t take orders from
you
human. You have no leverage over me. Now surrender your planet or I’ll order my battle cruisers to begin bombarding your major cities.”

Mitchell stepped closer to the viewscreen. “You’re being awfully rude sir,” he began, “first you fail to introduce yourself, and now you’re threatening the safety of my planet.”

The werewolf scoffed. “Bah! If you must know, I am Crewt; Fleet Marshal Crewt of the Viceroy’s First Battle fleet.” He eyed Mitchell distastefully with his imposing facial features. “And now that your curiosity is abated, I will now accept your formal surrender.”

“I’ve got a better idea, Marshal Crewt,” Mitchell said. “How bout I propose a trade, in exchange for me extraditing your operative Grendis, you and your fleet will kindly break off your planned assault of my planet.” Mitchell paused and stared at Crewt, his poker face still intact.

“Why should I agree to such a foolish trade? I could easily destroy your planet and still get my hands on Grendis.”

Mitchell shook his head ruefully. “You could do that. However, while you and your fleet have been sitting around I’ve managed to extract much information about your planet and its culture. Maybe you’re not aware of this fact but we humans have access to time-travel technology.” He pointed an imposing finger at Crewt. “And we can easily turn the tables on you ugly hair bags by manipulating your past, maybe even altering your evolution cycle so your ugly species never achieves sentience.” Mitchell lowered his finger and Johnny looked at Argos who smiled back at him.

Crewt laughed heartily. “And we could just as easily destroy your planet human.”

“Then it’s a stalemate.” Mitchell crossed his arms. “So what’s it going be Crewt?”

Marshal Crewt leaned back in his command chair and fingered his scepter. Johnny thought he saw a newfound respect for humanity in Crewt’s eyes, or maybe it was the fact that he’d been outmaneuvered by Mitchell. “Perhaps your species isn’t as pathetic as I’d thought,” Crewt said. “Very well, prepare Grendis for extradition; we shall transport him back to our fleet. Crewt out.” The transmission ended and Crewt’s face disappeared.

Grendis’ wolfish face was mired in a scowl when he learned his fate. His human disguise, now deactivated after his ship was captured by AL, revealed his fearsome Lycarian form. Despite his ankles being chained and his wrists restrained with titanium handcuffs, he still looked dangerous. Two AL security officers led him towards the hangar where a Lycarian shuttle was waiting to take him into custody. “I officially request asylum,” he said pompously.

Director Mitchell gazed at Grendis stoically. “Taking into consideration the helpful information you’ve given us regarding your planet and its technology, I’d be willing to grant you asylum. But on condition that you’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing by your superior officer Marshal Crewt.”

Grendis snarled at Mitchell before he was handed over to the waiting Lycarians. After that, the alien shuttle took off and disappeared into the light blue sky.

During the next week AL Command and Director Mitchell received congratulatory calls from everyone from the President of the United States, to the CIA Director on down to the FBI Chief and Homeland Security, respectively. A few foreign leaders also extended their gratitude for AL’s assistance in alerting them of Omega Day. The reality that so many distraught youths had been brainwashed into helping Grendis and his Lycarian cohorts was enough for AL to receive additional funding to extend their footprint across the globe. Bureaucratic red tape was bypassed in order to give Director Mitchell and his agency the assistance they needed to build additional Defense Outposts and staff them with the brightest minds. Already the cities of: London, Paris, Rome, Moscow and Tokyo had requested outposts be established within their boundaries. With more than a dozen more cities waiting in the wings.

This meant more opportunities for existing AL personnel. Soon promotions were handed out to every deserving person.

It was only appropriate that Argos Better attained the lucrative position as Director of Global Recruitment. And with the generous funding received from the U.S. Government, AL Command would be expanded to accommodate the thousands of new recruits that would take command of the forthcoming AL Defense Outposts.

It was also no surprise when Argos invited Johnny Veto and Patrice Waters to serve as his deputy directors. The fact that Johnny and Patrice were now dating only served as a pleasant coincidence.

After Argos had made the offer, Johnny had asked for three days to think about the promotion. He went home to his mother’s house to spend time with her and to think things over. He liked being home. And he had an itch to register for classes at the local community college before fall arrived.

When the three days were up, Johnny returned to AL Command Headquarters and found Argos and Patrice in TimeBoss’ chamber outlining their plans on how to run Global Recruitment. Not surprisingly, Jessie and Studs were there too. “I’m leaving AL,” Johnny told his friends. “The time I’ve spent here was amazing. But, I’ve missed a lot of time from school and if I want to go to college, I’ve gotta go to summer school and finish up my remaining high school credits.”

“Your Dad would be happy about that, Johnny.”

“I wonder if we’ll ever know what really happened to him.”

“Murdoc hasn’t given up on finding your Dad, Johnny,” Patrice said. “He’s always using his interstellar contacts to inquire about his whereabouts. If he’s out there, we’ll find him.”

Argos nodded solemnly before Patrice hugged him. Tears streaked down her cheeks. It was the first time he’d seen her cry. Jessie and Studs leapt up at him and he hugged them both as they licked his face profusely. It was an unexpected soggy treat, but that did not make it any less special. “I understand, Johnny,” was all Argos said.

“Sorry Argos, it’s just that this feels right. And I think I’m going to try my hand at writing again. I believe I’ve got a great story to tell now.” When Johnny saw that Patrice was still looking at him mournfully, he kissed her mouth before speaking into her ear. “Cool it with the tears Pat, it’s not like I’m moving to the moon. We’ll still be able to see each other this summer.”

“Just remember one thing Son. Writing is an art, and the purpose of art is expression, not profit. So when you start your next book focus on enjoying the experience, and never think about the end result. That way, no matter what happens, it will be one memorable experience. I know this from my experience with Ronny’s work.”

Johnny embraced Argos, who looked like a man who’d had a terrible weight lifted from his conscience. “What is it?” Johnny asked.

“I spoke to Studs last night; for the first time in a while; we’re going to meet and talk.”

“That’s great Argos,” Johnny said while rubbing the crimson fur on Jessie and Studs’ backs. “That’s just
really
great.”

A week after Johnny resigned his post at AL as a Time-Healer he started working on his new novel. This time he didn’t worry about finding an agent, or if it would one day become a bestseller. He focused on the process by
having fun.

And he did. Each morning, before he went to summer school, he’d sit at his desktop computer and pound away at the keyboard. This book felt different from all the others he’d written. His experience gained at AL added an extra tinge of excitement to the plot. And the characters? Well, they were special too: brave, funny, but most importantly, they were like every human he’d met; they were flawed. Perhaps that’s what made them feel so real.

By the end of the summer he’d finished summer school and was ready for community college. But one lingering problem remained.

He still didn’t have a title for his new book.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Johnny had a bunch of ideas, but none of them really felt like they’d work. He’d even enlisted the help of his girlfriend Patrice, and his old Time-Healer partner and friend Argos, but they suggested that since it was
his
novel, it would be best if it came from his own heart. Now how could he argue with good advice like that.

Then perhaps it was appropriate he finally decided on a title while having dinner with his mother one night. In the background, a television correspondent was reporting the capture of a large cache of illegally smuggled weapons brought aboard a freighter in the port of Los Angeles. Johnny watched on the television as U.S. customs agent interviewed another reporter.

“I’m so glad they were able to get their hands on those guns,” Johnny’s mother said in between bites of meatloaf. “We’ve got enough guns here in this country.”

“Yeah,” Johnny replied. He thought about Bloodboy, Diablo, and all the other kids recruited by Grendis. Then he thought about the difference he had made while working at AL. He thought about Argos, Jessie and Studs. That was when he finally settled on a title for his new novel. It had been residing deep within his heart all along. He only wished his father were here. Maybe someday the truth about his disappearance would be known. Until then, hope would remain in his heart.

Johnny put down his knife and fork and took his mother’s hand. “Mom, you know what? I think I’ve finally got a title for my book.”

Her eyes lit up like glow sticks. “Finally!” She squeezed his hand and he felt its warmth radiate throughout his body. “Alright, let’s hear it, Son.”

Johnny grinned slyly at his mother. “I think I’ll call it,
Guns and Dogs
.”

If you enjoyed this story please consider leaving a review on Amazon. You can also contact me at
[email protected]
or find me on twitter
@LeopardKingSaga
. I’d love to hear from you.

Thanks,

T.A. Uner

The following people have supported my writing since I started, and volunteered their time in beta-reading
Guns And Dogs
during the various editing stages.

Zipporah Aniko

Julia Brumfield

Dianne Bylo

Morgan Duplechin

Julien Fabre

Amanda Horan

Bobbi Kinion

Samuel Clemens’ (Mark Twain’s) journey to Nevada actually took place during the summer of 1861, when he travelled alongside his brother Orion, who had been appointed Secretary of the Nevada Territory. In
Guns And Dogs,
I modified the journey so that it took place in winter 1861, to coincide with Lincoln’s arrival, and had him traveling solo. It was there the young Twain tried his luck in mining and timber which met with failure, before finding a measure of success working as a feature writer for a Virginia City newspaper called
Territorial Enterprise
. It was here he first used his pen name, Mark Twain, which would later seal his place amongst the greatest American Writers of the 19
^th
Century.