Here is the latest installment of Gangillo. I hope you enjoy.
“You’re from Earth, right?”
Gangillo was seated near the big window of the lounge overlooking the mutli-colored surface of Jupiter. He was drinking something the waitress had called beer. Despite his human form, it was a substance that was foreign to him, though not unappealing. He was on his second one when the girl walked up. He looked up from his mug at the woman who had appeared out of nowhere. He instantly noted how attractive she was. He liked women from all species, but Earth woman were especially desirable to him. This one was quite extraordinary.
“That’s right,” he said with a smile. “How did you guess?”
“The clothes fit what the Earthlings are wearing these days,” she said. “So does the hairstyle, but what really gave you away was the accent. I overheard you ordering your beer and it was a dead give away. You guys back on Earth just sound different from the people on Mars or even the people on their moons.”
He smiled inwardly as he sipped his beer, taking some satisfaction. The form, the look, and the clothes had been easy, but the accent had been nothing short of a challenge. The range in the human voice was so limited compared to the Kanulean voices. It had been difficult to master is subtle nuances. The fact that he had nailed it forced a pat on the back from himself. He couldn’t wait to tell his tutors.
“What part are you from?” she asked.
She sat down without asking. He couldn’t be sure from Earth customs if it was rude or bold, but he didn’t care. He was going to ask her to join at the first opportunity anyway. She may not have been part of his original plans, but she was now.
“I am from a little village just outside of Rome,” he said. “In Italy.”
“Rome,” she said while motioning for the waitress to come over. “That was once the center of culture on Earth. Someone once said that to study Rome is to study the history of the world. We studied them and all the great cultures in college from the ancient Greeks all the way up to the United States. It was a great class.”
The waitress came over and the young woman ordered a double shot of bourbon and a pitcher of beer. She also ordered a basket of fries with a side of pickles, also fried. She did all this while lighting a cigarette. Gangillo winced while choking on the thick smoke that suddenly drifted into his face. The diet of the Earthlings had been somewhat subdued in the early part of the twenty-first century due to the rising consciousness over health concerns. But the advancement of drugs and the stem cell research in the last part of the same century had all but wiped out disease and illness. The humans were practically impervious to death.
That, of course, was their undoing. With the fear of death and disease gone, the humans saw it as their divine right to whatever they pleased whenever they wanted to do it. Immorality ruled. The new Rome, Gangillo thought.
“Yes, I find the study of Rome quite interesting as well,” he said. He decided to shift gears. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
“No,” she said twirling her black hair in her fingers. “I didn’t, did I?”
The emotions of Earthlings, Gangillo had not quite mastered, but all species regardless of intellect, liked sex. The Kanuleans prided themselves in being able to bed any species any time anywhere. Gangillo was a master at the art of telling whether a woman was interested or not. The woman was flirting and he knew it.
He glanced at his timepiece. He had more than enough time for some pleasure before the business of ensuring the destruction of the human race began. When the waitress came over with the beer, Gangillo poured her a large helping into a glass and smiled.
The humans, of course, would see him as a monster for destroying their way of life, but Gangillo didn’t care. He lived a life dedicated to the betterment of the universe according to God’s greater plan. He had spanned many galaxies, taking many forms and enduring many hardships to see the undesirable elements of the universe eliminated. It was a long process. There were so many undeserving races, so many that took its existence and gifts for granted, but the work was very rewarding. Knowing that his work was making the universe a better place was enough and then some. Getting laid in the process was a just an added bonus.
He would remember to thank God for the fringe benefits.
“Well? Do I get to know your name?” he asked. “I will just bet that a pretty girl like you has an equally pretty name. I would love hear it.”
She sat there and drank and ate, but she said nothing. She smiled and licked her lips provocatively, but she said nothing.
“Is it a secret?” he asked.
“I don’t like to give out my name to strangers” she said. “A girl just can’t be too careful. There are a lot of unsavory types in the Solar System.”
Gangillo smiled. How true that was. Her idea of the universe was so small, limited to the understanding of a single solar system, that she had no idea what horrors the universe held. If she knew the totality of the universe as he did, she would understand and cringe at all the unsavory elements. He couldn’t be sure, though, if she would understand where the humans ranked as part of the problem and not the solution. He doubted she would.
But he and the Kanuleans were making it better with the elimination of one unsavory race after another. The humans were next.
“I commend you on your caution,” he said. “You are quite right. There are a lot of crazies in the universe. But I am not one of them. I am just a traveler.”
“Oh yeah?” she said. “Where are you headed?”
Outside the window, a passenger liner dropped out of light drive. One second it was just a blip of light, like a star that kept getting closer and closer, then it was this massive travel vessel, carrying thousands of passenger. It had been a tiny streak in the sky moving faster than any meteor could have ever flown. Now it began its slow descent into the dock.
Gangillo watched the maneuvers with fascination. These humans were so primitive compared to the rest of the universe it was hard to believe that they were predicted to be at the far reaches of the universe in just under a century. But they were. The projections of the Kanulean High Command were never off by very much. They would be in backyard of the entire universe long before they were socially ready. It was completely unacceptable.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said.
“And you haven’t told me yours, either,” she replied.
The game, in human terms, he thought was cat and mouse. He wasn’t sure if he was playing it right. He forged ahead.
“But I didn’t invite myself over to your table,” he said. “I was minding my own business and you decided that you would join me. So, as the phrase goes, you first.
She reached out and placed one on her hands on the back of his. The essential parts of his body began to tense up. He was glad that the High Command had recommended baggy pants.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said.
She paused playfully and continued stroking the back of his hand.
“Yeah?” he asked. He tried to ask casually, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not.
“You are cute as hell and I am, well, in the mood, if you know what I mean. There is a little place in the back where we can be alone, where we can get to know one another. And when we are done, you won’t even care what your name is, much less mine. What do you say?”
“I say I can’t wait,” he said. “I say you won’t regret it.”
“Oh, I know that,” she said. She stood up. “Follow me.”
She moved away from him, her hips swaying back and forth as she maneuvered her way through the crowd. Her movements, like much of the rest of her, were incredible. He stood to follow her. He liked this game of cat and mouse. He thought he was very good at it.
Now, he thought as he navigated his way through the crowd after her, it is time for the cat to devour the mouse.
Gangillo was turned on by the seductive movements – the very well orchestrated movements – of the exciting you woman, but he was far from mesmerized. Unlike the weak human psyche, the Kanulean mind was capable of experiencing both great thought and attention to the most minor of details while the body was engaged in great physical pleasure, especially sexual pleasure. Gangillo was more than capable of providing great satisfaction to both this woman and himself while planning her demise as well. That, of course, is exactly what he was going to do.
He checked his timepiece once more. The fleet was moving into position. Soon they would be expecting the codes he had procured from the last human female to fall to his unmatchable charms, the codes that would lower the defenses of the entire region. The governing body the Earthlings liked to call The Solar Alliance, would be defenseless. The current space station, Forward Point, would fall first. Next, Mars would be defeated and, finally, the hub of the solar system and the human race, Earth.
There was nothing to be done that could stop it now. He only needed a few minutes of silence in some out of the way place and it would all be over. He would send the codes, seal the fate of the human race, and then get back to the business of enjoying this young woman while he had the time to do so.
He was following through the crowd, through the maze of tables that let to wherever she was trying to take him. He paused to avoid running headlong into a young couple, a young couple who were intensely involved in one another and oblivious to their surroundings.
“Are you coming?”
The girl, his nameless girl, the girl he had been following was standing a few feet in front of him, stamping her foot impatiently. He couldn’t no longer tell whether he look was merely playful or something else. Her tone was a mystery as well.
“We don’t have much time,” she said. “Let’s go.”
He knew very well about the time. He grinned his best Earth grin and motioned to the young couple. As soon as they passed, he was on the move again through the maze, this time at double speed to make up for lost time. Once he was moving again, she turned and she was moving again, her amazing hips swaying back and forth with incredible rhythm and incredible speed. He had to really hustle to catch up to her. By the time he did catch up to her, they were heading down a long, dark corridor.
He liked it. But, at the same time, he didn’t like it. He wasn’t scared of her to be sure, but he needed a place to transmit the codes. While the dark corridor was a perfect place, if he didn’t do it soon, before they had their rendezvous, there would be no rendezvous. He would have to kill her.
The mission was first. That was the Kanulean way. Everything else was secondary.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just trust me. You will love where we are going and what we are going to do. It will be a memory that will last you a lifetime.”
He followed on. Even in the darkness his acute Kanulean senses managed to allow him to check his timepiece once again. The numbers on the watch looked back at him accusingly. He had made an error in judgment when reading the watch. He didn’t have nearly as much time to deliver the codes as he had first thought. The Kanulean fleet would be moving into position soon. They would be visible. Having the codes to lower the humans’ defense shields just as they became visible was the key to everything. If the fleet didn’t have the codes, then Gangillo mission would be a failure.
Any delay in the lowering of the shields and the element of surprise would be lost. Without the element of surprise, the battle would not be lost, but the prime objective would be. Victory was not the primary objective. Annihilation of the human race was. In the time it took the Kanuleans to break through the Earth defenses, it was not only possible, but likely that the humans would scatter like ants or bees whose nests had been disturbed. They would scatter and they would eventually regroup and survive.
That was unthinkable. He had to do something fast.
“How much farther?” he called to her.
“Just a minute or so,” she said.
The hall narrowed even more and, if possible became even darker. The fleet was approaching, the deadline drawing nearer. He had to act now if the mission was to be a success. The rendezvous with the girl was no longer possible. He had to take her out.
He could see back of her neck, supple and desirable, but, more importantly, fragile and unguarded. One sharp blow from his trained fist and the spinal chord would sever. She would drop to the floor in a heap. No signals from the brain would be transmitting. There would be nothing to tell the body to move, nothing to tell the diaphragm to move the lungs up and down. She would be dead the moment of the blow. It would only be a matter of her mind catching up to what her body already knew.
In the darkness, he closed in with the stealth of a cat. He tightened his fist and prepared to strike. The mission would be a success no matter what.
“I see lights up ahead,” she called back to him. “We are almost there. Not too much longer and I can’t wait!”
He pulled his fist down just a half-second before she turned to look at him over her shoulder. She looked at him with hungry, needy eyes. That was obvious but important at the moment. His element of surprise had been lost. The darkness of the hallway began to abate. He saw the lights she had been talking about. Where there were lights, there were often people. To kill her now might draw attention to himself, something he could not afford.
“What are the lights?” he asked.
The click of their heels on the tile floor kept time with the tick-tock of the clock in his head, the one that told him the fleet was drawing ever nearer, ever closer to the time when the shields needed to be lowered. He needed to transmit soon, maybe within a half-hour or so. He had to figure out a way to get away from this woman or incapacitate her long enough to transmit.
“It is just a couple of bathrooms,” she said. She stopped, wheeled about and work her way into his face. Her hands ran down his chest, across his stomach, and continued to wander. “And beyond that are some private rooms, one of which, I have the key to. We can go there and be alone for as long as we want. How does that sound to you, Gangillo?”
Her lips were on his now, soft and moist, her tongue, like her hands, darting and exploring. Gangillo’s whole body tensed up, every inch of him as hard as a rock. His toes curled up so tight in his shoes, he thought they might break.
“It sounds very good,” he said, surprised at how raspy his words were coming out.
His mind was suddenly lost in her, his senses lost in her smell, her touch, her taste. His focused waned ever so briefly and – for a split-second – he forgot the mission. It didn’t take long to recover. The click-click of their heels may have stopped, but the tick-tock in his head had not.
Focus! You Kanulean idiot! Focus!
Bathrooms! Privacy! Mission!
As much as he didn’t want to, he pulled away from her. She looked at him with something between amazement and hurt. He feigned his best look of embarrassment and explained with his eyes looking away, down on the floor.
“I…I have to use the bathroom,” he said. “I am sorry, but before anything can happen, I have to go use the bathroom.”
It was not a total lie. This wonderful thing the humans called beer seemed to make its way through the body quite rapidly. A great pressure had built up in his groin area, a pressure that had nothing to do with his obsession for the girl.
“Okay,” she said. She kissed him and let her hands wander once more. “But don’t you keep me waiting.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I will just be a moment.”
He was smiling as he turned away from her. The smile was not forced. He continued to smile as he made his way to the restroom. He did not feel good so much as he felt content. And why not? He was about to complete his mission. He was going to take this poor little girl for his own, reveling in her passions until his own satisfaction was achieved. All this would happen while the fleet was pulling in to begin the first stages of the eradication of the human race. But first, the business at hand.
He stepped into the urinal and used it for what seemed like an eternity. He was both relieved and horrified at the stream of liquid that poured from this human body. He knew the human body needed water to survive. As the stream continued for what seemed to be an eternity, he began to wonder just how much water a human body could lose and still survive. He relieved a second time when the stream finally stopped.
“I am waiting for you, Gangillo!” the girl’s voice called out from the other side of the door. “I knew you were going to be awesome the minute I laid eyes on you. Please hurry.”
He stepped into the stall, closed the door, and unbuttoned his shirt. He reached up on his chest, past his left nipple and put his fingers on a small discoloration at the top of his ribs. It looked like a mole. That had been his superiors’ idea. No one would question a mole.
He dug his fingernail into his and the slowly, without pain, the mole gave way. The outer skin of the mole was a fabrication of Kanulean science, designed to hide the content beneath it, which, of course, was a tiny, but very effective recorder. It was the device holding the codes.
He pulled away the skin and held the tiny device on one finger while, with his free hand, he took a button from his shirt. It was not just any button, but the button. He turned the button over and carefully inserted the recorder into the back of the button. Then he inserted the button into his ear. The transmitter was in place.
“Gangillo?” the girl called out. God, was she horny or what? “Did you hear me? I am waiting for you.”
“I’ll be right there, dear,” he said. “It is taking a little longer than I expected. But just give me a minute and I will give you all you want and then some.”
From the other side of the door he giggle was giddy. The smile that split his head in half was once again genuine. He sat down on the commode, shoved the transmitter into his ear and closed his eyes.
It would soon be over. He couldn’t wait.
His mind, his Kanulean mind, came to life and the stall began to fade. The world around him and the stall began to fade. The blackness was now crouching at his door, wanting to close in on him. Most in the universe shunned, even feared the darkness. He did not. He embraced it, longed for it. In this case, he needed it. The growing darkness meant that he was retreating farther into the recesses of his mind, to the place where the transmitter in his ear and the chip in his brain could link up and become as one. Then, he could send the codes.
The light did not surrender without a fight. Tiny fragments of it danced around in front of his eyes even after his entire surroundings had gone black. The light bulb over the urinal was an image that held sway for the first part of it all, glowing as brightly in his mind as it had in the room. He clamped his eyes down tight to make it go away, but you couldn’t close your eyes to a light that was burning in your mind. It stayed there firmly in front of his eyes, moving with them each time he changed the direction of his stare.
He clamped down even harder in an effort to rid himself of the pesky light, clamped down so hard that his eyes began to spasm. Pain radiated from their quaking epicenter and caused his sockets, right down to the bone, to ache. An uneasy dizziness put his head on a limp neck. His head became heavy and uncontrollable, bobbing like the head of some old toy on a weak spring. He put his hands on his temples to steady his head. His eyelids hurt, threatening to open on him. He held them shut on pure will. He needed the darkness. The mission needed the darkness.
Just beyond the image of light drifting in and out of his empty sight was a perimeter of darkness rimmed with a dull, fire-red glow, the color of a fire that had ceased to actively burn but still held many hot, dying embers. It was the rim that he needed to penetrate. On the other side of that rim lay the fleet and the success of the mission.
He focused his mind’s eyes even harder on that rim, ignoring the images that blocked his view of it. Soon, they would vanish. He believed that even as he clamped down harder on his eyelids, even as the spasms threatened to blow the eyeballs from the sockets of his weak human form. Contact would be made if he could just endure. He was still sure of it when his legs turned to rubber and he fell sideway off the commode, banging hard into the metallic walls of the stall and sinking heavily to the floor.
The light no longer drifted in front of his eyes but now had begun to orbit. He was unable to stop his mind’s eyes from following the light as it went round and round. Only a few times around and lightheaded feeling overtook him. A few more orbits and he was completely dizzy.
There was a swirling in his ears and the light faded from his mind’s eye. So did the fiery rim. A new blackness overtook him, a deeper blackness than he had ever known. His mind now felt disconnected from his body. He was on the verge of passing out.
You have to hold on.
But, he didn’t hold on. Just as the transmitter came to life in his ear, the codes began making their way to the fleet, the blackness overwhelmed him and he passed out.
Even from the other side of the blackness that still held sway over his consciousness, the pounding on the door of the restroom was thunderous, as if a hundred men were trying to beat it from its hinges and sling it through the room. The noise was unbearable. His head was throbbing from the transmission of the codes and each pound was like a crack of lightening on the inside of his head.
“Gangillo!” It was the girl’s voice. Even in his haze, he understood that. “Gangillo, are you alright!”
You have served us well, Gangillo! Another mission well done.
This voice was feint and fleeting, the voice of the Mother Ship’s command, thanking him for successfully transmitting the codes. In the midst of all his pain, it was a comfort to him. Then, the comfort in the voice was not so comforting. It was more… ominous.
Beware! All is not right with you. Beware!
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said aloud.
It was true. It didn’t make any sense, but his head was so twisted up inside from the work he had done for his homeland, he didn’t know why it didn’t make any sense. He didn’t even know what about it didn’t make any sense.
And, for now, he didn’t care. He was lying on a cold, tile floor, his face flush against the porcelain base of the commode. His right arm was draped over the rim of the commode, his hand dangling into the very water where these humans emptied their waste. Even the tiniest of movement on his part caused pain, originating from his neck, to shoot all down his body through the human’s nerve network.
While all this was going on, a woman was pounding on the door of the bathroom seemingly with the strength of the one the human’s call Hercules and screaming at him at the top of his lungs, doing all she could to ensure that the pain in his head didn’t go away anytime soon.
“Gangillo!” She yelled again and pounded even harder. “ Are you alright? Dammit, can you hear me!”
The only way to get her to stop the incessant pounding, he reasoned, was to answer her. He took a dry swallow that did nothing but irritate his throat, a throat that felt like sandpaper. He took two or three more and finally was able to answer.
“I’m fine,” he said while rolling painfully to his knees. “I am okay. I just… well…had a little more beer than I thought. I kind of … fell off the commode. But I am okay now.”
“Okay,” she said. “But please do hurry. I can’t wait to get my hands on you. The things I am going to do to you will change you forever.”
By this time, he was standing over the sink splashing cool water on his face. It felt good. So did the reminder from the young girl that his mission was over and he had some time to kill before the Mother Ship picked him up. It was good to know. It was tantalizing. It excited him.
“Oh,” he said as he looked in the mirror. The human face he owned was ashen and depleted. He couldn’t wait to return to his Kanulean form. “There is no hurry, my dear. I want to take me time with you and enjoy you completely. I promise, the things I do will change you forever.”
The message that had been feint from the very first was becoming even more feint with each passing second. He turned off the water and cocked his head to one side, like a dog trying to home in on a sound. It didn’t help him at all, but it was some sort of human instinct he supposed.
How did she know…
How did she know what?, he thought to himself and then he said fully aloud.
“How did she know what?”
“Your name, Gangillo,” the girl said.
He wheeled about so quickly his head started to spin all over again. She had come out of nowhere. One minute she was on one side of the door talking to him, urging him to have sex with her and the next she was just behind him. He hadn’t heard a sound from behind, not a single creak from hinges in need of oiling, not a single tap of shoes on the tile of a room that was very acoustic in nature.
“How the hell did you get in here?” he asked.
“Well, I just walked in,” she said acting as if she was surprised. “I mean, it’s not like you locked it or anything.”
No, he didn’t. He had thought about it, but he hadn’t. Or maybe he had just thought about thinking about it. Hell, he didn’t know. Besides, that wasn’t even the real issue. Not now. He looked at her accusingly.
“How did you know my name?” he asked. “I didn’t tell you. I am sure of it!”
“Why don’t you quit being so damned dense, Gangillo?” she snapped. “Why don’t you ask yourself the question you really need to be asking?”
“What do you mean?”
She laughed and then sneered at him. The sensual, tender, excited girl was gone. A new one was standing before him, a sarcastic, hateful one. He didn’t like the new one at all.
“How did I know what they were asking you, Gangillo, you horny idiot?” she demanded. “How did I know what the voice in your head was saying?”
“You knew what I was thinking?” he asked, stunned to the point of near speechlessness. He knew it was true, but it didn’t make sense to him at all.
“God, you are such a moron,” she said rolling her eyes. “It is really is true what they taught me at The Technique’s Center. You get a Kanulean just a little aroused and he just falls all apart. All reason goes out the window!”
“The Technique’s Center?” Gangillo said. His mind was reeling, his thoughts spinning like a top on an uneven surface, spinning this way and that way with no direction or sense. “What’s The Technique’s Center?”
“How do you make a Kanulean stupid?” she asked. “You get him horny. How do make a horny Kanulean even more stupid? You let him drink beer! Didn’t they tell you about beer in the prep classes, Gangillo?”
Gangillo suddenly realized that this woman was not who she had claimed to be. He decided it might be wise to clam up and just say nothing. He was still confused but he regained his composure, cocked his head to one side and smiled at her.
“Who are they?” he asked. “And what’s a prep class?”
She rolled her eyes again and just shook her head.
“Say Goodnight, Gangillo,” she said.
“Goodnight, Gangillo,” she repeated.
The stars consumed his whole field of vision once again. It sounded as if someone had cracked a very dry stick in his ear and the whole left side of his jaw exploded with pain. He was lifted from his feet by some unseen, imaginary power and sent flying backwards through the air, floating softly on some feathery pillow. The pain in his jaw temporarily subsided and he was just floating, gentle, easy, and pain-free.
Until his cloud gave out on him and he dropped like a rock. He landed hard and pain exploded in jaw once more. The pain quickly spread out from his jaw, consumed all of his head and then fingered out over his body. He was firmly on the floor but he was still spinning helplessly in an uneven blackness. There were no stars. There was no up or down, no direction of any kind. He was both here and there in a time that was now and then. He was flying a space ship near the speed of light headed for a place with an uncharted star between him and his destination. He was oblivious to the impending danger. Yet, he was also sitting right beside himself in the same ship screaming at himself to change course. It was all so confusing.
Then, the confusion lifted. For the second time in under ten minutes, he passed out. Peaceful oblivion engulfed him.
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