Destroyer of Planets: Book 1 of the Neon Octopus Overlord Series Read online

Something hard hit her in the back of the head. Her knees went wobbly.

  Kracken.

  She had seen characters get hit in the head with a gun a million times on television, but had never experienced it in real life. She wasn't a fan.

  First, there was the shock that someone had done it to you, then the explosion of pain in your head, and then everything began to fade. She turned toward her attacker, but Kracken wasn't looking at her anymore, he was turned to the side where a familiar face with two sets of arms hit him in the chest.

  The two started to wrestle. A yell echoed and then faded, along with everything else. The words "get him, Carpe" floated around her consciousness with angry thoughts about guns and metal and people she thought were friends.

  Chapter 22

  Drexyl woke with a start. He didn't know why, but the hair on his arms were standing on end. He looked around and listened. Nothing. At least nothing out of the ordinary. It was more of a feeling. Having nothing else to focus on, he glanced at Soda sleeping in the corner. He did a double take, then blinked. Either Soda had changed and gotten bigger overnight, or another being had taken her place.

  He must have shuffled his feet too loudly because a wobbly eye popped open.

  "Drexyl. Good morning." She inched her bulbous head higher, then stretched her tentacles.

  "Soda?"

  "Oh yes," Soda said, looking over herself. "You noticed. I've begun to change."

  "What do you mean change? What's happening?"

  "Oh, don't be alarmed, darling. Comes with the territory when one awakens from millennia in hibernation. Oh, how confused you look right now. There are a lot more surprises coming, I assure you. The first is your beloved Kirian. Switch on the monitor; she's about to have a very bad day."

  Drexyl rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What's going on with Kirian? What did I miss?"

  Soda’s mouth stretched into a horrible smile. Maybe it was because her face was bigger, maybe it was because the longer lips curled into a more feral position, or maybe it was just because of the dark-colored hairs jutting from her face. He recoiled in horror as the tentacles came for him. That hadn't changed. Oh no, the tentacles always came for him, outnumbering his arms and legs and his ability to fend them off and stop them from doing whatever they felt like doing to him. Now he had something to worry about beyond even living Staar bounty hunters. Soon, his screams filled the room.

  Fleek left Ari and returned to his room where his lead guitarist, Marco materialized.

  “Hello, Marco.”

  Drummer. It's the only thing the band still needed. It's true, he could go the synthetic route, but it went against the very spirit of the thing. Oh yeah. The studio. They couldn't broadcast without a studio. He headed back to the console. He tapped in the code for the studio. A large room bowed off the end of the ship beyond his bedroom.

  "Marco, the bass player’s busy right now. We’re out of time, and we need a drummer."

  "I know a guy," Marco said. "But I don't think he'd do it. No way he’ll broadcast live. His boss will see him and kill him. In fact, all of us are taking a really big chance here."

  "The good news is that I've got us covered." Fleek led him back toward the new broadcast studio.

  Marco chased after him. "What do you mean you have us covered? From death?"

  "No, sorry mate. I'm good, but I'm not that good. I hacked us a bunch of new, hard core, rocker avatars."

  "What?"

  "Check it out," Fleek said. He brought up his computer, placed a sticker on Marco, and pushed him up onto the stage. "Go ahead and play."

  As soon as Marco stepped onto the stage, he stopped being a Tillip—a squattish gray creature with spikes on his head—and morphed into a slimy, tall, long haired purple Kaleo.

  "No way," he said, totally impressed.

  "So, do you think your friend will be our drummer if I can protect his identity?"

  Marco nodded. "Yes, absolutely, man."

  "Great. Have him here in five minutes."

  This music, this song was going to be a positive force in the galaxy, he just knew it. He didn’t know how it could help Kirian; he just knew that it couldn't possibly hurt. And the fractals had never led him wrong. And the Oracle believed in him. Fleek couldn't say it out loud, but he simply believed.

  Trisha was now twenty hours into her research. It was horrible and involved dark net searches and conspiracy websites. The images would probably stay with her forever.

  Thanks a lot, thesis.

  She stopped for a minute and rubbed her face with her hands. A text notification buzzed. She glanced at the time: 3:47 in the morning? Who in stars name could that be?

  It was Brad.

  Something's going down soon on Regulus. You said you wanted to know. Are you in or out?

  She thought about it for a moment. If she stayed awake for the next—she rechecked her watch—forty hours she might have a chance of turning in her thesis on time.

  Why did she do this to herself? Then she had an idea. There were shortcuts for this assignment, it was why she tried to interview the Octopus Overseer.

  One in-person quote from an official that high and the thesis would be complete. There was a points system to these things. In fact, just visiting the Capital in Arcturis City had earned her more points than the last week combined. It hit her in her sleep deprived state that the whole process was a video game and she was trying to get the high score.

  She looked up the points system again. Leaving the planet to do the in-person research would get her, oh, three thousand or so points, along with the twenty-five hundred she received for going to the Capital. That combined with the work she had done in the previous twenty hours or so would put her—hang on, math hurting brain at this point—ten points over the minimum!

  She re-ran the calculations, not trusting the math in her sleep-deprived state. It checked out. All she had to do was document this conspiracy theorist tipping her off, show up on Regulus, poke around a little, and she’d be done.

  Of course, her bank accounts were dwindling fast, and her credit cards were maxed out, but portal service to Regulus wasn't too expensive, and once she’d finished her thesis she could graduate and start making money instead of just spending it.

  Now, there was a radical concept.

  She texted Brad back, hoping soon meant soon or she might just sleep through anything that happened.

  Ok, I'm in. See you in a couple of hours. Where do you want to meet?

  Another text arrived: When it Pours coffee house on Main St.

  Kirian strode into the middle of the city and smiled. The sun warmed her face, and a gentle breeze rustled her hair. The planet had a striking natural beauty. It was a good place to die.

  She hadn't yet heard the humming of the TPHWs, so she took her time. Duster off, skin glistening in the sun. She stuffed Stingrs into her jeans pockets and decided to start the battle with her curved scimitar. She kissed the flat end at the tip of the blade and lifted it toward the sun, in tribute, the way they used to do on her planet before it was destroyed. She took a deep breath. Bring it.

  Then she heard the familiar hum of the weapons. Only this time it sounded different. Louder and clearer. At least twice the normal number of creatures appeared before her. Kirian squinted at her opponents and tightened her grip on the handle.

  Something flew past her. She wheeled around to face it with her scimitar. It wasn't an opponent; it was a drone camera.

  What’s going on?

  She scanned the skies and found that drone cameras were flying all over. Was the overseer filming the whole thing?

  Kirian didn't have time to finish that thought. The creatures in front of her charged.

  Chapter 23

  Floyd grumbled as he made his way to the Arcturis City transit with all the other commuters. He liked his high rise and his luxury and hated mixing with the masses. Happily, he wasn't taking the actual portals; he had his own private ship waiting with a portable portal. If things wen
t south on Regulus, he was prepared.

  All of his research had pointed at one conclusion. That it wouldn't be difficult to blow a hole in Soda's communications disrupter field, but it would have to be done from within, from the planet's surface.

  In other words, work. It wasn't his style. But it would make a lot more work for Soda, so he smiled and continued worming his way forward in line.

  Floyd smiled at the irony. He wanted the Celestial army to take care of his dirty work in much the same way Soda was using them to do hers. However, at this point, hypnotherapy wouldn’t work for complex tasks, and the Celestials weren't yet his army to command.

  He arrived at dock 42B and nodded to the Captain as he boarded.

  "Immediate travel to Regulus in sector 872, sir. Is that correct?"

  "Correct," Floyd answered. He took his seat and buckled up.

  "Shouldn't take too long," the Captain said.

  Floyd took out his phone and played the black-hole filling matching game everybody was talking about.

  A little while later, the Captain announced they were hovering in orbit half a Urillian Click from Regulus, the far end of the limit of Floyd's portable, extra-long-range portal. This was the tricky part; he needed to convince the pilot to stay put no matter what he heard or saw.

  If he were successful in breaking the communications blocker, the Captain would know he was in danger and would want to warp out of the area pronto. If Floyd were unsuccessful, the Captain would be blissfully unaware and yet in lots more danger of blowing up.

  He stood and faced the Captain, forcing himself to smile. "What I need you to do is stay right here for a while until I return."

  "Got it," said the Captain.

  "Because it's a fixed location, long distance portal."

  "Uh-huh."

  "And because if I try to return and you've gone off somewhere, I'll be jumping into open space."

  "Exactly."

  "And I'll die," Floyd said, underlining the point and adding a great big exclamation mark.

  The Captain wasn't particularly engaged with the actual situation Floyd was trying very hard to impress upon him. In fact, he was replying to Floyd while texting on his phone.

  Floyd decided his current approach wasn’t working. He opened his eyes bigger and engaged them in hypnotherapy.

  The Captain, already addicted to his cell phone and easily distracted, was just about the easiest target he had ever faced.

  "You will stay right here in orbit. No matter what happens until I return."

  "I will stay right here in orbit," the Captain replied, his tone dead, eyes half-closed.

  "Exactly," Floyd said. "And when I do return, you will be prepared and waiting to go immediately into your highest warp setting."

  "Highest warp setting."

  The Captain's pupils were huge, and he was swaying from side to side.

  "In fact," Floyd continued, "if you never even consider leaving until I get back then there will be a million extra credits for you when we return to Arcturis City."

  That last part was a lie, but the subconscious wants what the subconscious wants and if the Captain was convinced on a deep level that staying was in his best interest then stay he would. Of course, he wouldn't remember any of this afterward and even if he did, "considering" something is awfully hard to prove in court, so there would be no pay-out. It was simply extra insurance toward Floyd's continued survival. He released the Captain from his spell.

  "To the mission!" Floyd said and pulled out his portal.

  "To the mission," the Captain parroted back and raised a salute.

  Sometimes it was just too easy.

  Floyd stepped through the portal and onto Regulus. He looked around and checked his watch, relieved to find he was early. He double checked that the small orb in his suitcase was still there and intact. It was the gizmo that was going to cause Soda problems. And it was snuggled safely in his briefcase.

  Floyd had nothing left to do but find a nearby shop to hang out in until everything went crazy. Ground zero. It was sort of fun looking around at all the locals who had no idea what was going to hit them. The calm before the storm felt electric to him, almost like he was hunting.

  He entered a generic looking coffee shop, approached the counter, and passed a young woman who was holding a coffee cup in visibly trembling hands. "Careful, miss. Maybe you should switch to decaf."

  "Bite me, generic business guy," the woman replied.

  Rude. This planet deserves whatever it gets.

  He ordered coffee and a small Danish and sat down to play his phone game until he heard the beginnings of the inevitable chaos.

  Ari awoke in pain. Initially, she thought she was seeing double; then she realized that the creature caring for her had a fin on his head and two sets of arms. Carpe. It was a startling way to regain consciousness.

  "Is she okay?"

  Ari turned her head slightly and saw Fleek kneeling down. A sharp pain gripped her head, followed by a wave of nausea.

  "I think so," said Carpe.

  "Where's Kracken?" Ari waited for the answer instead of trying to move her head again.

  "He left. Took our portal. I heard you talking, and I came around the corner in time for your big reveal about him being a spy. It's a good thing too. You cleverly got him to confess, since he wasn't saying anything and from my vantage point I couldn't see the gun. I would have never known you were in trouble."

  Ari tried to process what he was saying. "Yeah, I'm clever like that. Blurt everything out. It's a great plan. Works every time."

  "Do you remember anything?" Carpe asked her.

  "I think so," answered Ari "Why?"

  "Because before he knocked you out, you were going on and on about some plan and how we don't have much time."

  Ari tried to think. She remembered arguing with Kracken and losing consciousness, but nothing before that. What had she been doing? Her computer. The thought was there, but it wasn't connecting to anything else.

  "Get me to my computer."

  Fleek and Carpe each gently took an arm and helped her up and over to the keypad. Another wave of pain and nausea washed over her and she nearly blacked out again. "Hey, do you guys have anything for the pain? It’s distracting, and I'm going to need to concentrate."

  "You watch her," Fleek said. "I'll be right back."

  Ari read her search history looking for clues that might jog her memory and looked at the local news feed. Nothing. She looked at the console with the view of the planet's capital city. Chaos. Then she looked back at the news feed. Still nothing.

  Fleek returned with the little bag containing the Blue Pixie. Warning signs began going off in Ari’s brain. These kinds of drugs were not her style, but at this point, she had little choice.

  "Look," Fleek said, "pour this directly onto your tongue, it’s like pixie sticks. Your mental clarity will come right back and trust me you will feel no pain."

  Ari was dubious, but there was too much on the line and no time. "How much? Is there a measuring utensil or something in the baggie?"

  Fleek rolled his eyes, grabbed the bag, and mimed for her to stick out her tongue. He poured the powder.

  Ok, just a little bit more than a coating of the tongue, thought Ari. Looked like a tablespoon or so. She wondered how long the Blue Pixie would take to hit her.

  It wasn't long.

  "Wow," she said, noting that it even tasted like pixie sticks, something she wasn't expecting. "That was fast. What about side effects?"

  "I wouldn't worry about that," Fleek said.

  "Why not?" Ari asked.

  "Because,” he said, looking at what was happening on the planet on the console, “we'll probably all be dead soon, anyway. Have fun. Good luck." Then he turned to leave with Carpe and the other band mates.

  "Wait. I can't do it alone. I need, um, Carpe."

  Fleek nodded, and Carpe came and knelt next to Ari.

  "Ok," Fleek said, "but we're going to need him back soon." />
  Ari had recovered some of her train of thought and was typing furiously. Not only was everything coming back to her, she was flying past where she thought her research idea had been going.

  Again, she would have to hurry, but the prospects were intriguing. She soon reached a point where her extremities started tingling. Or maybe that was the Pixie stuff. She stopped typing and watched the local news feed. Still nothing. She studied the console. Chaos. Weird. There had to be some communications barrier on the planet keeping messages from leaving. That's probably how Soda had got away with it, making sure nobody knew what was going on.

  "Alright, Ari. What's the plan?" Carpe asked. "Whoa, your pupils are super dilated."

  "We have to get onto the surface of the planet. Wait. Did you say Kracken went through the portal?"

  "Aye."

  "Why would he do that? Did you find out anything from him? Is he a double agent?"

  "The only thing I found out was that he was concealing a blade." Carpe twisted his body to show a shallow stab on his torso. It was still bleeding. "It's the only reason he got away."

  "Alright," said Ari, wincing at the wound in sympathy, "I guess we can use a temporary portal through the ship. It'll get us there, but it won't get us back. If we survive, we’ll have to be picked up.”

  She tapped into the ship's portal interface. "How long has Kracken been gone?"

  "Ten, fifteen minutes."

  "Well, if he was a spy, we can assume he knows about everything. Me, Kirian. Our plan."

  "Fleek and the song.”

  Ari stared at him like he had a horn growing out of his forehead.

  "Look," she said, "I don't mean to put down your art or anything, and it would be great if the Overseer likes the music enough or cares what people think enough not to destroy us, but I doubt it. And I'm not counting on it. Sorry."

  "Don't be," Carpe replied.

  "Good. If I'm right with these calculations, then this planet has odd properties that could amplify the Temporarily Physical Holographic Weapon's power."

  "I know what TPHWs are," Carpe answered, looking wounded that she would spell it out for him.