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Hector Marais drove his patrol car into his driveway and shut off the engine, noting the gas gauge still read a quarter tank, even after 1,600 miles. He wasn't really ready to go into the house, although Donna would be waiting and probably a little annoyed with him for missing dinner without calling her to tell her he'd be late.
But at the moment, the shift from "magic inn full of aliens with other murderous aliens trying to kill them" to life at home with his wife and family in his quiet Red Deer subdivision was feeling like a bit much. He rubbed his neck and sighed. His grandmother had always liked to say that the world was stranger than anyone really knew and that was certainly turning out to be true.
He got out of his cruiser, checking his surroundings and the peaceful neighborhood. When he looked to the street light on his left, Sean Evans stood at the edge of the circle of light, his arms folded over his chest, staring at him. Evans wore a t-shirt, tactical pants and running shoes. His shirt was sweat-stained and stuck to his chest in damp patches, like he'd been for a long hard run.
Marais frowned. He'd left the inn and driven straight home, more than twelve miles. He hadn't had a tail, he always watched for them. There was no way Evans could have gotten here from the inn this fast without driving and he'd have seen any car following him.
“Did you follow me home?” Marais turned to face him, his hand staying low at his side, near his service weapon.
“Yes.” Evans didn't seem particularly threatening, or at least not any more than usual. He also didn't seem too impressed with Marais's hand near his weapon.
“Where is your car?”
“I didn't drive.”
“You expecting me to believe you ran?"
Evans shrugged. “We need to talk,” he said.
Marais eyed him. Evans was a big guy and moved with that alert awareness like Marais had seen in some elite military men in active war zones. Between his own service as an MP and the training he'd had with the police department, Marais was confident in his ability to handle large, aggressive men. But he was not sure that Evans was actually a man. During the Draziri attack at the front of the inn, Marais had gotten a quick glimpse of a huge, furred monster in the corner of his eye and when he'd turned to get a good look, Evans was standing where the monster had been, dressed in a dark metallic body suit that looked a lot like paper thin, flexible ballistic armor, if such a thing existed.
“Talk about what?”
“Have you made up your mind about us?”
“I have decided to go along with what I have been told and what I have seen.” Marais said. “For the time being.”
“Then come with me,” Evans said, moving out of the light and into the empty dark soccer field at the subdivision park. After a slight hesitation, Marais followed him. They walked until they were under a large tree, effectively hidden from the street or any overlooking homes.
Marais saw Evans's eyes change in the dim light, shifting color to a light amber yellow with a slight glow. It definitely wasn't something human eyes did. Some animals had eyes with a layer that reflected light, but they didn't glow like this.
“I always knew there was something strange going on at that inn.”
Evans's lips twisted into a small smirk. “Dina says your intuition is very good, your own form of magic.”
“Magic.” Marais said flatly. “I can tell when people are bullshitting me, Evans."
“I'd have said the same thing once. In fact, I think I did. But do I sound like I am bullshitting you now?”
“No, not really. And that's just the problem.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, magic then. But Miss Demille seems like a regular human being.”
Evans nodded. “She is. But she is an innkeeper with her own magic and access to the inn's magic. She can break any law of physics you'd care to name on the grounds of her inn. Don't ever underestimate her. She is more powerful than you can imagine.”
Marais nodded slowly. “You seem sort of like a human being. You look like one most of the time, but you don't always move like one.”
The glowing eyes lifted to pin him. He didn't frighten Marais, not completely, but Marais was aware that he was looking at someone who could take him down permanently, probably without a lot of effort. “I was born here, grew up here, spent most of my life here. But my people are not from here. ”
“So not human?”
“Partly. Not entirely.”
“Mr. Arland?”
“No.”
“The feathered punks? Wing and what was his name? Orro?”
“Not even close. Orro is the best chef in the galaxy, though.”
All of his answers had the ring of truth. “Why do they all have two arms, two legs, a head and a central body?”
“Bipedalism and general human form is common. Too common for random chance. But there are many other forms out there.”
“How did you come to know about other planets and aliens?”
Evans snorted a dry laugh. “The hard way.”
Marais narrowed his eyes at Evans. There was a story there that Evans was not volunteering. “You know I was an MP.” Evans nodded. “I had a buddy of mine pull your full service record. Is that a real record?”
“I served for 8 years and got out when the next job would have been behind a desk. I come from a career military family.”
“My buddy talked to his buddy, who knows someone who knew you in your last tour. Says all those commendations in your record are the real thing.”
Evans nodded and just waited him out. Like a lot of ex-military, he just acknowledged that his record was very good and held commendations. He didn't mention them or try to lean on them in discussion.
But Marais was tired of evasions and silence and said, in his best non-nonsense MP voice: “Mr. Evans, I am going to ask you a series of questions and I want straight answers. No half truths or evasions or white lies.”
“Go ahead.” Evans shifted to stand in loose parade rest in front of him and waited for the questions.
Marais hitched his thumbs in his belt and faced Evans squarely. “Was what Miss Demille told me true?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell me all of the truth?”
“As much as she could in a short time. She wasn't lying, it's just that the whole truth is a very long story. She gave you the true basic substance of it.”
“Has she lied to me before?”
“Yes.” Evans was at least being honest. Any other answer would have ended the conversation.
“Will she lie to me in the future?”
“Probably not. Once you are aware of the truth behind the inn, there is no reason to lie. “ Evans's lips twitched. “That doesn't mean she'll tell you – or anyone else - everything she knows.”
“What is your motivation in all this, Mr. Evans?”
“To protect Dina.” His answer was instant and rock solid.
“Are you in a personal relationship with Miss Demille?”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Marais studied the man in front of him. If he was actually a man. “Why do your eyes glow like that?”
“So that I can see in the dark.”
“Like night vision goggles?”
“Better. Nothing the army had comes close.”
“So what are you?”
Evans thought about the answer for a moment, and then went with another short answer. “Shapeshifter.”
“And what does that mean, exactly?”
“I have three forms. You've seen two of them.”
“This form and the big furry thing?”
Evans seemed to be somewhat amused by the description. “Human form and wetwork form, yes.”
“What's the third form?”
“You'd call it a wolf.”
Marais rubbed his forehead. “So you're a … a werewolf? Like the movies?”
“Not at all like the movies or in books, but, yes. One of my forms is wolf-like. In human form I am faster and stronger than a human. And much faster and much stronger in my other forms.”
“How much faster?”
“In human form, if you took out your service weapon right now, aimed it at me and fired, you wouldn't hit me. Which is why I am here. You talked to Dina, you got the straight story on what is going on. If you decide you want to be involved in this, then you need to be appropriately armed.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Evans reached into a long pocket in his tactical pants and pulled out a metal cylinder that looked like a large nightstick. He tossed it and Marais caught it and inspected it, tapping on it. Solid metal but much lighter than he expected. About a foot long, smooth, with no protrusions or buttons or markings. One end was slightly rounded, the other squared off.
“Ion plasma generator,” Evans said. “Also popularly known as a subatomic vaporizer.”
Marais's grip changed and he held it gingerly, as though rough handling might cause it to discharge. “Likes melts them?”
“More like it turns all matter, living or inert, into vapor. It won't discharge until it's been keyed to you. It's not breakable, go ahead and crack it on those rocks. Try to break it. You won't.”
“So it will kill people?”
“Yes. Leaving no trace that they were ever there. There is a mass limit on what it will vaporize, roughly the weight and size of a small car. Literally point-and-shoot. Short range, less than 10 meters, virtually no operational lag, but a limited number of uses, depending on the mass being vaporized, before the power pack needs recharging. Bring it to me and I will recharge it.”
Turning the weapon in his hands, Marais frowned. “I'm not sure I approve of a weapon that can only be used to kill.”
Evans shrugged. “It's not meant to be an everyday weapon. But you've already seen that your taser is ineffective. The Draziri also have armor similar to mine and your Glock,” he said, pointing at Marais's side arm, “won't be effective. If you manage to hit one, it might slow them down, but that is all. You need the authority that this weapon will give you. Any fighter or mercenary from the known worlds will recognize that weapon when it's activated. They are expensive and not common, but very recognizable.”
“Will this weapon kill you?”
“Yes, if you manage to get target lock and the beam actually hits me.”
“So you're giving me a weapon that will take you down?”
Evans smirked slightly. “I am very hard to kill.” Then he shrugged. “But not impossible. There is always someone faster, stronger. Smarter. Better armed.”
Marais held up the cylinder, inspecting it closely. “What's the catch?”
“It needs to be operated by a subcutaneous implant as a safety lock. Without your conscious control, it can't be activated, it's just an inert metal baton. It's heat-, cold-, fire- and water-proof. It also has a DNA and fingerprint lock, but that is just additional safety and not the primary safety. No one can fire this weapon other than you and you have to hold it in your hand, will it to activate and then will it to fire.”
“'Will it'? You mean like think at it?”
“Yes. That's the point of the implant.”
“Implant? Not sure I like the sound of that.”
“It's a 2mm organic implant. Undetectable by any frequency or mode scan or any form of physical evaluation.”
Marais closed his eyes and thought about everything Evans had said. On the one hand it all seemed like so much bullshit. On the other hand, he'd seen it for himself, and more than once. Dina Demille had said the point of inns was to keep the earth neutral, from being colonized or conquered by other species – species he now knew existed and, from what he'd seen, possessed technology far in advance of anything on earth. Like telepathically-operated subatomic vaporizers.
“Is giving me this weapon breaking any laws?”
“Probably. It'll all be on me. Don't worry about it. Just use it only in defense of the inn to keep the secret.”
“Are you doing this for the good of earth, the good of the treaty or the good of Miss Demille?”
“All of the above, emphasis on that last one.”
“Okay, I'll do it. How does this implant work?”
Evans pulled a small device about the size and shape of an asthma inhaler out of his pocket. “Bend your head down.” Marais ducked his head and Evans put the device at the back of his neck. Marais felt a tap at the base of his skull, like the little pointed rubber mallet the doctor used to test reflexes.
“Done,” Evans said. “That covers the mental link and the DNA lock.” He moved a few steps away, his eyes scanning the area, his head tilted up and his nostrils flaring. “There is no one watching us at the moment. Let's key it to you and then you can test it.”
Evans took the weapon and ran his fingers over the surface in a complicated pattern. Lights flashed. “There. Grab it in both hands, making sure your fingertips touch the surface so it gets all of your fingerprints.” Marais took the weapon back and pressed his fingertips into it.
“Take the weapon and point the rounded end at that rock. Will the weapon to activate and you'll see a target halo, visible only to you.”
“Will it? Just … think at it?”
“Yes. Look at your target, point the weapon at it, will it to arm and then will it to fire.”
Marais looked at the small rock, a little larger than his fist. He thought about vaporizing the rock and a quick white light outlined the shape of the rock. The weapon tip split open and slid aside, revealing a bright yellow-white light. The outline of the rock pulsed once and Marais thought about vaporizing it again. The weapon discharged with only the faintest hum that he felt more than heard and a burst of bright light. There was no recoil, no other outward sign. The small rock glowed briefly and then vanished, leaving just a puff of gas behind.
“What if the the thing I want to hit doesn't get that halo around it?”
“Blink your eyes and refocus on the thing you are targeting. It can be difficult to target fast-moving objects.”
Marais went through the exercise again with another small rock, with the same results. He looked down at the weapon, which was cool and inert in his hands. “Does Miss Demille know about this weapon?”
“She'll eventually find out you have it,” Evans said evasively.
Marais narrowed his eyes. “This wasn't her idea?”
“No.”
“Do you have the authority to make these kind of decision?”
Evans actually laughed. “Authority?” He shrugged. “I handle security for the inn. That's enough authority.”
“Does Miss Demille know that you handle security?”
“She hired me to do it.” He smirked. “For a buck.”
“Why do I think that there is a story there?”
“There is always a story for things around Dina.” He folded his arms over his chest and looked up again, serious. “You are doing us a favor. Favors are reciprocal. If I can do you a favor, I will.”
“What kind of favor?”
Evans shrugged. “Build a backyard barbecue. Take you out to see the galaxy.”
“Kill someone and take care of the body?”
“If you need it done.” Evans tilted his head. “No one will ever know or find the body.”
His eyes were unblinking and still serious. Marais shifted uncomfortably, firm in the belief that there were already bodies at the inn, never to be found. “There are laws, Mr. Evans.”
“Outside the inn, yes. At the inn, no. Your laws don't apply. Think of it as a foreign embassy. What happens inside the inn stays at the inn.”
Marais gave him a long, long hard look. Evans didn't flinch under his gaze. “Mr. Evans, trust is something earned.” He nodded, clearly a concept he understood. “I am inclined to trust you and Miss Demille. For now.”
“We will try to keep your trust. We good?”
Marais nodded at Evans, who turned and vanished into the night, faster than Marais could watch him go. With a sigh, he walked back to the house. This was not something he could ever tell Donna. How could she ever believe there were aliens and monsters?