PThok Eats an Ice Cream Cone (1/2)
P'Thok carefully unwrapped himself from the clutching confines of his ceramic dropshell, moving his limbs carefully so as not to crack the shell or damage any of the precious equipment that might have survived the perilous drop into the heart of the enemies homeworld. He would need the maps, the recorders, and the Confederate cash sticks that had been collected from dead Terrans off the battlefield. He would need the counterfeited equipment of a Manti tourist, and some of the special equipment hidden in the harness he would need to wear would allow him to emulate a Manti to any and all sensors with the notable exception of Terran biological optics.
The yellow sun high in the strangely blue sky warmed P'Thok's carapace, making him feel more awake, more alive than he would normally have felt after a 18 month cold-drift to the enemy home world of the TerraSol Confederacy, the home world of the only intelligent mammalian predator in the known universe. With their warlike ways, innovativeness at devising war material, and fearsomeness on the field of battle, P'Thok was slightly surprised that he was even alive, not burned down by the extensive planetary and air defense systems the Terrans possessed. He was not drowned in one of those scattered oceans, and not killed by a fast moving piece of space dust puncturing his drop pod, nor did his grav-repulsers malfunction and smear him across one of the fractured pieces of the protocontinent.
Looking carefully around, his vision enhanced by his combat visor, P'Thok saw why he had not been shot down or incinerated by one of those massive weapons emplacements that Hive Intelligence believed covered the entire surface of TerraSol. He was at the edge of one of the huge facilities Terrans seemed to be obsessed with creating, the massive bulk of weapons, and the huge, hulking shapes of Terran warships were everywhere to the magnetic North of P'Thok. East and West were strips of light forest, nice for aesthetic reasons and producing oxygen, if you breathed it. P'Thok enjoyed the sweet smell of Nitrogen that permeated the atmosphere in undreamed of quantities. No wonder the Terran mammals fought so hard to protect their homeworld, the very air nourished normal intelligent life! P'Thok wondered at the sweet atmosphere, reaching into the pod and pressing the autodestruct sequence. With a hiss, the pod shivered and collapsed into dust that stirred in the sweet smelling breeze from the huge metropolis to the South of P'Thok's landing site. P'Thok activated his recorders and began moving South, toward the large city that the Treana'ad Mothers had named ”Ninth Swarming Place of Furless Mammals” and the Terrans called ”New Angelos”.
By the time the warm yellow sun had crested its zenith and began moving toward the horizon, P'Thok had been picked up by a well meaning, nearly polite Terran, and given a ride on the back of a fearsomely fast 2-wheeled transport that roared and shivered and moved like some kind of reptile in and out of the ground-effect vehicle traffic. The talkative mammal had mistaken him for one of the traitorous Manti, one of the mammal's ally, who had missed something called a ”bus”. The mammal had given him a ride all the way into the center of the huge metropolis, dropping him off in the center market to do some ”sight seeing”. The two words meant the same to P'Thok, and he wondered exactly what vision visioning could hold for a tourist to TerraSol as he wandered the spacious streets of the city. Looking around, P'Thok felt his mind reel as he looked up at the huge buildings, some of them taller than the Hive P'Thok had grown from a larvae. Terran's were everywhere, moving about rapidly, and grunting at one another in Terran Standard. To P'Thok the language sounded just as brutal as the Terran's themselves.
The ground vibrated underneath the city, and P'Thok barely kept his cool, nearly screaming aloud as the very ground shook beneath his feet. Some of the beings around him stared, and P'Thok heard more than one instance of the brutish sound P'Thok knew served as Terran laughter. He could not believe it, the Terran's took no notice of planet instability. That would enable them to live on more planetary bodies than anyone had ever thought! That knowledge alone would guarantee that the Hive Mothers would be pleased with P'Thok's performance. No wonder the mammals fought like the insane, they came from a planet that was just as unstable as they were!
He took pictures carefully, making sure nobeing could see his actions as he recorded both the buildings and the masses of beings that hurried about their business. He was careful to record the mammals entering buildings in great detail. In one instance, P'Thok carefully recorded every available sight of a place that turned away any who were not Terran military. He wondered what the facility, named Harv's Bar and Grill, could possibly be. Weapons research? Strategy planning? Cybernetics or power armor manufacturing. Fluttering his vestigial wings in agitation, P'Thok reluctantly moved away from the tempting building, whose optic-catching holo's seemed almost to try to lure him inside. His sensitive audio receptors, boosted by his head covering, could detect the barking sound of Terran laughter, the sound of glass on glass, glass on plastic, plastic on plastic, and both glass and plastic on metal. Whatever activity was happening inside was plainly quite exciting to the Terrans inside, but the two huge, hulking Terran soldiers on either side of the door intimidated P'Thok to the point he would not even try to peer inside the brightly lit window.
By nearly sunset, P'Thok was beginning to become nervous as he wanted the streets of the gigantic habitation complex. All around him beings were moving about, and on some corners, beings nervously hocked wares to reluctant appearing beings. More than once a male or female Terran would approach another Terran, and they would leave together to enter a building. While he often saw the same being who waited to be approached, he rarely saw the one who made the approach again. Some beings were beginning to stare, and P'Thok became sure that sooner or later, somebeing would recognize he was a Traena'ad instead of a Manti, and the military would be called in to take him into custody. He knew that if the Terrans took him prisoner, he would be cooked over hot liquid vapor, cracked open, and eaten with sauce. Every Traena'ad knew that was what the Terran's did with captured Traena'ad, and P'Thok had seen Terrans dismember, deshell, and devour reddish, exoskeleton clad creatures whose forward digits ended in claws. To P'Thok's horror, he had seen more than one feeding establishment with the lifeforms caged in transparent cells, filled with salinated water, to be picked out by one of the Terrans, and then, after a suitable wait, devoured. P'Thok shivered and tried to think of a way to avoid notice and possible devouring.
Quickly looking around, P'Thok saw quite a few beings purchasing the wares of a stand marked ”Ice Cream” in Terran Standard, and took note of the fact that nobeing seemed to take notice of any being that devoured the ware. He recorded the stand, including spectrograph analysis, electromagnetic scan and full visual. He worked up his courage and approached, his senses picking up a rich mixture of complex protein chemicals emanating from the cart. Curious, P'Thok stood in line and eventually reached the front of the line, drawing closer and closer to the source of those wonderful airborne scents.
One of the squat, bulky mammals was offering a cold semi-solid, topping a wrapped breadlike wafer substance. His hairless face was contorted into what Hivehome Intellegence had briefed P'Thok was the equivalent of a smile. To P'Thok, it looked like a gestured intention of imminent devouring, with the bared meat tearing teeth of one of the galaxy's few intelligent predators. P'Thok had seen that expression all day, however, and was past the initial flinching stage that he had been in when first confronted by a grimacing mammal.
”Ice Cream, gentlebeing? I have chocolate, raspberry, strawberry, mint chocolate chip, or vanilla left.” the man told P'Thok, speaking in rapid Galactic Standard heavily accented with the brutish Terran tones.
”Strawberry.” P'Thok half mused, holding out the Terran credit chip. The man scanned the chip, nodded, then scooped out a chunk of pinkish, frosted material and deposited on the open end of the conically wrapped wafer. The Terran handed P'Thok the credit chip and the cone, then waved P'Thok on. The insect warrior moved on, gently testing the cold substance with antenna and equipment, searching to make sure that it was not some type of poison, a mild organic corrosive for cleaning teeth, or a cruel Terran joke that would suddenly eviscerate him in broad daylight in the middle to the street.
Complex carbohydrates, frozen H2O, sweetened wafer, no synthetics. It was safe for consumption, and P'Thok sliced a piece off with one mandible, drawing the rapidly melting piece into his maw. Melted nicely, and the taste reminded P'Thok of fruit, his favorite dish. The cone was not bad either, kind of tuber taste to it. Almost eagerly, he took one more bite, to see if it was as good the second time he ingested the strange substance.
The taste seemed to explode in P'Thok's brain, and he found himself steadily devouring the strange creation. Some beings looked at him, but turned away smiling that normally terrifying Terran smile. P'Thok could not care less what other beings did, as long as he had some of this wonderful substance to consume! Here was a creation worth going to war with the Terrans all over again, a secret that showed just how treacherous the mammals were in not sharing it with the all powerful Traena'ad Hiveworlds, did the stupid little mammals not know that the Traena'ad were Gods, and P'Thok was the most powerful of them all! He found himself dancing quickly, ignored by passerby, and stopped suddenly, a realization dawning on him.
He was invisible! Nobody paid any attention to him. He was invincible! That's why no one dared confront him! P'Thok looked around slyly with the last realization, searching for a female Traena'ad, or even a Manti. After all, he was SEXY. No female would be able to resist him. Even the Terran females were glancing at him slyly, and for a long moment, P'Thok was tempted to trying a cross-species sexual encounter, but changed his mind at the sight of their powerful arms and thick, killing digits.
The lights of the city were bright, and seemed to emit sounds of their own, turning the city into a sparkling orchestra or sounds that P'Thok had never imagined in his life! All of the beings he met were friendly toward him, trying to cull the favor of the powerful and wise P'Thok, and even the Terrans seemed acceptable, now that he no longer had to fear them, since we was invisible, omnipotent and irresistible.
All too soon, though, P'Thok began worrying that he had forgotten something. Had he revealed himself to some being he should not have? Had he dropped a piece of equipment that would give him away as a Traena'ad? Had he offended that large Terran cyborg waiting on the corner with a military carry-all in his large, killing hand? Had he forgotten the correct steps for the recreational mating dance?
Dejectedly, he began searching for a place to spend the night, but the huge, friendly city now seemed to distain him, until he moved into a small, cluttered side street and huddled up next to a large, smelly container that was cold and surrounded by slimy refuse. As liquid H2O began falling from the sky, he curled into a ball, miserable with the thought he might have forgotten something that the Hivemothers wanted, and lamenting the fact that no females found his pheromones attractive. Sleep came slowly and fitfully, and he dreamed of the Terran military cyborgs that he had seen on the streets chasing him through the tunnels of his Hivehome.
When P'Thok awoke, he discovered some lousy mammal had stolen his foot coverings and rations! Not only was he wet and cold, but he no longer had food that was safe to consume, and his delicate feet would be subject to whatever horrors the Terrans could devise! Fortunately, he still had most of his equipment, and the credsticks hidden away. He rubbed his vestigial wings together as he decided that the only recourse he had was to purchase some ice cream to eat, or starve.