Chapter 11.A

Hank rode on the top of the truck in a crouch with one hand on his crowbar which was latched to the lip of the truck’s cab. He was headed down the exit ramp on the highway and he could see the truck was headed for a police blockade. There were at least 20 police cars and six ambulances, he only knew what they were because his Arbiter translation ability was letting him read the words on the side of the vehicles. Half of the cars hovered in place, and half had wheels. A few of them had officers popping out of the roof manning deadly looking turrets. These guys weren’t fucking around. The diesel stopped about a hundred feet out from them. Some of the officers were at ease but others had guns drawn pointed not quite at Hank, but close enough to make any sane man nervous.

Hank figured he needed to take charge of this situation quickly. He hopped off of the diesel and fell the 13 feet or so to the ground. Pain shot through his knees but he couldn’t let the assorted alien police officers see that he felt it. So he stood up quickly and proudly marched over to their barricade. Once he got within earshot he shouted:

“Hi there! I’m Arbiter Hank, thanks for the quick response time. Do you have any directions for my next mission?”

A distinguished looking older fellow marched over. Well Hank assumed he was older, it’s hard to tell with aliens. He was about the same height as Hank, so tall, but less broad across the chest. His skin was a light green, and his eyes were a dull red. He was completely hairless, but Hank couldn’t tell if that was a feature of his race or if he had just chosen that look. He had crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes, which Hank associated with age, but again maybe all of his people had those. He was the only one of his kind around so there was no one else to compare him to. He wore a spiffy dress uniform which also said police on each arm. His chest read Lieutenant Commander Hampton. The other police officers in attendance were a myriad of different races. Hank even recognized a couple of their races from memory, including one Noxian, the same race as Dractus.

The Lieutenant Commander in front of him had a gentle look on his face, not quite a smile but almost there. Hank could tell without even using his intuition that this was a good dude. The type of man who is followed out of mutual respect not fear. Hank ran a scan with his Intuition and his suspicions were confirmed doubly so, the lieutenant commander’s aura was calm, happy, and good.

“Hello there!” Hank said with a smile.

“We will get this sorted out in short order Arbiter, no worries.”

“That’s great to hear,” said Hank.

Two aliens in dull gray coveralls ran over carrying some equipment and dragging thick cables. They laid the equipment out, and started connecting power lines to it. Hank didn’t recognize any of it. The situation was so surreal watching all of the cops and the techs work. One of the cops in a turret seemed to notice the situation was low priority so he leaned back and pulled out what looked like a cigarette and started casually smoking. This was too much for Hank, he had to ask some questions.

“Sir, I don’t mean to offend, but can I ask you what could be a personal question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you real? I mean, I’m in a computer game still I think.”

The older alien police commander seemed to ponder the question before answering. “What is real? This morning I woke up with my wife and we enjoyed an amazing breakfast together. I kissed my kids goodbye before they went to school, and then I went to work. Now I’m here talking with you. My life is good, fulfilled. You say I’m in a computer simulation, that’s fine with me. Maybe you are right, or maybe you are just crazy. Either way tonight I’m going to go home to my loving family and enjoy myself. Did that answer your question?”

“Not in the slightest, but I like your style,” Hank said with a grin.

“Well it was nice to speak with you, but the technicians are ready. Please step through and good luck.”

The two technicians had set up what looked like a circle of steel on the ground with a large box connected to it and power cables heading in and out of the box. They both had tablets hardwired into the box and they were manipulating the fuck out of them. One of them yelled “Stand back!” all of the officers nearby complied and he pressed a few more buttons on his tablet. The ring shot blue light skyward about twenty feet. At first the light was hazy and thin but it soon solidified into a non-transparent field. It reminded Hank of lava, only blue. Jumping into it didn’t seem all that appealing, even though he felt no heat coming from it. He looked at the kind police commander once more, the man only gave him a nod and a small smile. Fuck it. Hank jumped through.

Hank landed in a crouch, and he threw his fist out to stop his forward momentum. He had landed on something soft, carpet… The next thing he noticed was his arm, he pulled his fist up and turned his hand palm up. His arm was covered in a silver garment of some kind. He stood up and took in his surroundings. He was in an extremely plush office. The walls were lined in extremely nice shelves made of some kind of material that Hank didn’t recognize. The shelves were covered in books, and knickknacks, and other strange objects. Dented in helmets, broken guns, twisted swords, spheres made of different materials, these were just some of the things Hank saw.

There was a large futuristic bulkhead style door and a smaller door near the back of the office. Hank headed for the smaller door, it slid open automatically before he got to it. Inside was a small bathroom with a closet. Hank went to the mirror. He was wearing a long silver trench coat that went all the way down to his ankles. It fit loosely over his large frame, but comfortably. The shoulders of the coat had very finely detailed epaulets on them which made Hank’s already large frame look larger. Underneath the coat he was wearing the same silver armor that Cerulean and Dractus wore. Slim fitting, but armored in vital areas and areas that might take damage more often. On his feet he wore heavy-duty combat boots that were also silver. The strangest part of the whole situation was that he looked older, and his hair was down to his shoulders. He also had decorative silver dye in different parts of his hair, and a wedding ring on… He had a patch on his upper left shoulder that showed two bipedal figures shaking hands, under it were the words Arbiter Diplomatic Corps.

This was a lot to take in. Hank gripped the sides of the sink in front of him and took a few deep breaths. A voice called out from the office behind him: “Sir?” Hank walked back into the office to find a young human woman with shoulder-length brown hair in some form of futuristic office attire.

“Sir the diplomats from BG-49 and RS-13 are here, they are waiting for you.”

“What? Me?”

“Sir, don’t tell me you didn’t prepare again... Here take this,” she said as she handed him a thick dossier.

“Let’s walk and talk sir,” she says as she pulls Hank gently by his upper arm. He follows her out into the hallway.

“Open the dossier sir, you browse while I talk. The first thing you have to remember is that the diplomat from RS-13 just had a granddaughter. If you don’t mention that you heard about her and how cute she is he will be upset. Make sure you bow when you meet him, and grip his elbow, he will also grip yours. You don’t let go of your grip until he lets go of his. The diplomat from BG-49 is a technophobe so he won't be using a rebreather. His planet’s air composition is slightly different than what we keep in this building so expect him to be slightly winded. I’ve had the air in the conference room slightly adjusted to make him a bit more comfortable, but if I adjust it too much he will notice and think we are catering to him with technology, and that will anger him.

Don’t ask me how a race that hates technology is okay with space travel, because it doesn’t make sense to me either. Tracy, who is the secretary to do D’jan Mirot told me that they basically traveled here in a giant flying box full of trees and animals. They literally hunt the animals through the trees and cook the meat on campfires in the spaceship! isn’t that radical!? Sorry I’m off track, when you meet him he is going to want to wrap one of his tentacles around your neck to check if you are strong enough for him to deem you worthy, whatever that means. After that-”

Hank listened to the woman, who was apparently his secretary, carry on about the small nuances between the two diplomats and the manner in which he should broach each subject. Apparently the planets they were representing had a hostile enemy in common who had broken the laws of the Arbiter Core. So this common enemy was now “free game” as far as the rest of the governed universe was concerned. They hadn’t been openly hostile enough to warrant intervention from the Arbiter Core itself or the coalition of planets, but they had been picking off lone ships and stealing from targets of opportunity without fear of reprisal, that had to change. Getting these two planets to openly declare a united front against the hostile planet might be enough to get the hostiles to calm down. What would happen in the room Hank was headed to, what seemingly appeared to be a small talk between three beings, could potentially save millions of lives and stop a major conflict. This all gave Hank a renewed outlook on negotiations, and made him realize just how damn important they really were.

His secretary stopped in front of a glass lined room that was beautifully and lavishly decorated. One section of the room rested against a dark rock wall that had a small waterfall coming out of a crevice. The crevice had a decorative metal grate over it. The water fell into a small rut in the floor that actually cut through the entire room and went under the conference table and ultimately out of the room.

“Any last second questions sir?”

Hank had a million questions, but none of that mattered. He knew what needed to be accomplished and he understood how important this was. This particular task was WAY outside of Hank’s wheelhouse, but Hank wasn’t a quitter. This may not be a test of brawn or endurance, but by God Hank was going to give it his best.

Hank looked at his secretary one last time. “They are about to get the fuck negotiated out of them,” he said before he threw the glass door open and marched into the room.

***

Jimmy flew through the portal, hit the ground and rolled to distribute his momentum before finally popping up to his feet on high alert. He had just been murdered trying to escape some sabotaged car scenario. It had not been pleasant. He was in an office with plush carpet. The walls were lined in extremely nice shelves made of some kind of material that Jimmy didn’t recognize. The shelves were covered in books, and knickknacks, and other strange objects. Dented in helmets, broken guns, twisted swords, spheres made of different materials, these were just some of the things Jimmy saw. He felt heavier, he looked down and noticed he was wearing some kind of silver outfit. He ran to the smaller door in the room because he guessed it was a bathroom, he was right. He went straight to the mirror.

He was wearing the same style armor that Cerulean and Dractus had…. Arbiter armor. On top of the armor he wore a decorative silver trench coat with stylized epaulets on each shoulder. He looked a little older. His face had some age lines on it that it didn’t have before, but he was clearly in better shape. His metabolism and lifestyle that had held him up from ever putting on some serious mass apparently didn’t exist in whatever new world he was in now because he felt and looked ripped. His hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and someone had strategically added silver dye to it in neat patterns that made him look fierce. There was strange writing on different parts of his clothing, it was a language he had never seen before. All of a sudden he could read it. It declared him as an Arbiter diplomat. Not only was he an Arbiter now, he was some kind of big shot with a nice office to boot.

“Sir?” he heard from somewhere behind him back in the office. He bolted out to see a hot looking human secretary. Before she could say anything else he blurted out:

“Please tell me we are boning.”

The secretary blushed profusely before replying “Oh Jimmy we don’t have time for that right now. The diplomats have arrived and they are waiting to speak with you.”

“One moment,” he told her before heading back to the bathroom mirror. He looked at himself again. Tall, proud, muscular, banging the hot secretary, a highly decorated Arbiter to boot… He wanted this life. He knew he was still in the virtual simulation, but this wonderful place had just shown him a vision of his future. He swore to himself then and there that he would become an Arbiter. Jimmy didn’t regret or despise his position in the FBI, and he knew that the few people in the FBI who knew what he was doing in his undercover capacity considered him to be a brave hero. This was different though. From what he understood Arbiters were one part superhero, and one part celebrity. Judge, Jury, and executioner to the entire universe. No hiding, no scheming, you find the enemy down and chop his nuts off. Compared to Jimmy’s dark and dirty work it seemed like a paradise.

***

Hank landed on a wooden platform and stumbled precariously close to an edge before catching himself. The few seconds he had looked over the edge had shown him that he was at minimum hundreds of feet up. He stood up and backed as far away from the edge as he could until his back bumped into something. He spun around and was surprised to see it was the trunk of an enormous tree. He was in a tree, a tree city to be more specific. All around him trees were ringed with wooden platforms just like the one he was on. Some even had full on houses built into them. Among the trees were millions of vines of various lengths coming down from the rich canopy above him. Most were thicker than Hank’s wrist and hundreds of feet long. It looked like some of them even went all the way to the ground.

The confusing part was that there were no bridges connecting the tree platforms. How are you supposed to cross? In the distance Hank could see a few little hairy alien kids playing what looked like a game of tag on one of the platforms, they hadn’t spotted him yet. Hank crouched down not wanting to spook them. After a while he noticed they even had tails like monkeys. Was this the planet of the apes? He continued to watch them play and laugh for a bit, but something was nagging at him. Shouldn’t there be protective railings?

He understood and liked the idea of a culture living up here. Ample protection from the elements and natural predators, easy place to collect water, etc. Aren’t the parents afraid the children might fall though? Or maybe they do fall often and that’s just a part of the life here. Some cultures have strange customs, and accepting the morbid as common is a regular phenomenon in secluded areas. As Hank continued to watch the kids and ponder his questions he noticed one of the bigger kids became a little overzealous and shoved one of the others kids close to the edge. Hank held in his breath as the kid near the edge tottered and almost fell before regaining his balance. Before he could step away from the edge another kid shoved him off completely. “NO!” Hank shouted.

Instead of falling something amazing happened. The kid opened his arms wide exposing thin flaps of skin that ran from his forearms to his sides just below where a human’s rib-cage would start. They worked like inefficient wings and the kid glided right to the nearest vine which he grabbed like a pro and used to quickly ascend. Once he was slightly higher than the platform he had started on he jumped again and glided back to where the other kids were and rejoined the game of tag like nothing had happened.

“A world of gliding monkey people! COOL!” Hank shouted with boy-like wonder. He wasn’t sure why this concept interested him so much, but he was really happy to be here.

Something loud landed on the wooden platform that Hank was on vibrating the whole thing. The impact had happened just around the bend of the tree trunk out of Hank’s vision so he couldn’t see what it was, but loud and fast footsteps started up immediately. The tell-tale sign of someone running on a wood floor, Hank knew the sound well. The person came into view, it was a blue male with short little horns on his forehead, the same race as Cerulean. With no hesitation the blue man ran to the end of Hank’s platform and jumped. The blue man grabbed a vine and his momentum swung him forward a bit. He let go and flew to the next vine. What the hell? Before Hank could think too much about it, large red letters popped up in his vision that read: “PURSUE THE CRIMINAL!”

Hank wasn’t particularly afraid of heights, but the idea of jumping didn’t look appealing. Then he noticed the criminal was headed towards the kids… Maybe he was heading there because that was the next solid platform, or maybe it was something nefarious… Either way Hank knew he couldn’t risk the safety of the kids. He ran and jumped.