Heroes of The Collective Volume 2 : Regret

21. The Astral Sheriff #10 : Inter-Galaxy Diplomacy Part 3

"If everyone would find your places around the table, the banquet will be starting soon!" announced a member of staff from the serving team.

"Blane, where are Do'Lânqwa and Vedhika?" Glói asked in hushed tones as the guests went to their seats. Vedhika being The Secretary's actual name.

It was now just gone twenty past seven. "I have no idea, Sir," he replied, desperation and frustration in his voice.

"Go now and check, before the food arrives," Purcell suggested.

"What? No way. If I go, you're both coming with me. If something untoward has happened then I have to protect you from something similar. No, we'll go now. I'll speak to Jodeth."

Blane paced urgently to her and informed her of what the three were going to be doing.

"But you're the guests of honour!" she said.

"And we'll be back shortly. Are they the only ones we're waiting for still?"

Jodeth looked around doing a visual check. "No, I think we're still waiting for Sammeron Mack and his aides."

"Sammeron? From Earthtun?"

"Yes."

Blane scrunched his face and groaned.

"I'm sure they won't be long," she said, distracted enough to have missed Blane's initial reaction. "But if you are going to check on your friends, do it quickly or you'll miss the first offerings."

Blane hurriedly turned and headed back for the humans he was now going to take charge of.

7:25

"With me. Now," he hissed as he carried on out of the room. Purcell and Glói, sensing the urgency in his body language and tone, followed without complaint.

He led them to the stairwell that led up to the guest's sleeping quarters.

"What's going on? Where's the fire?" Glói asked as he puffed up the stairs to keep up with Blane.

"Do'Lânqwa, The Sec and the Earthtun's are all conveniently missing from the banquet and I don't have a good feeling about it," he explained, leaning over the hand rail to check above and below them.

"The Earthtuns attacked Earthgrë didn't they?" Purcell clarified.

"Yes."

"And the Earthtuns blame Earthgrë for The 45th?"

"In simple terms, yes."

"But why go for Do'Lânqwa?"

"My best bet is that as far as they're concerned, he's the last grëhman alive and he knows of the destruction that his planet was subject to at the hands of tunmans. We were smart to never actually divulged to anyone here that we have Fo'Vylrian back on our earth and that there are other survivors left on Earthgrë. So in their eyes, Do'Lânqwa is the only person who could lift the lid on the whole thing. But I don't know, you know more about politics than I do."

7:33
They arrived to the correct floor and Blane led the men charging down the corridor to The Secretary's room. He tried to open it.

Locked.

"Are you going to break it down?" Purcell asked, with a glimmer of excitement.

"No. I've got X-ray vision."

"Sure, ok good... That sounds less destructive."

"What do you see then?" Glói asked.

"No one's there and there's signs of disturbance. We have to find them now!" he cried out urgently, heading back along the corridor the way they had come.

"We're going back down? Can we take the elevator this time?" Purcell asked.

Blane looked at his watch. It was seven thirty five. "And risk getting trapped in it? No way, let's get moving."


After the quick descent back down the stairs to the banquet room, Blane burst through the doors and past the butler types standing on guard. They didn't even flinch or react to the urgency in the dramatic re-arrival.

The diners however stopped and turned towards the commotion, seeing Blane stood with a look of anger and desperation on his face. A winded Glói and Purcell stood behind him.

"Any luck?" called out Jodeth.

Blane scoured through the faces sat around the table. There were only five empty seats. The three of them and Do'Lânqwa's and The Secretary's.

"You!" Blane shouted, accusingly pointing toward Sammeron Mack who had conveniently found his place at the table. The tunman feigned ignorance as his sipped on the soup.

Blane charged to where Sammeron was sat and the other worldly dignitaries gasped at the show of aggression. Sammeron began to get up, and Blane helped him the rest of the way, sweeping out his chair with a kick and grabbing him by the front of his jacket.

"Where are they?" Blane snarled through his tensed jaws.

"Please, Blane. Calm down before we get security in," Jodeth urged, coming in close.

"No! He knows where they are. Vedhika's room is a mess. Something happened in there and I will crash your moon into this planet if I don't get them back."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Sammeron claimed.

If only Do'Lânqwa was here, he'd know if this was the truth, Blane thought. "I think we're going for a walk. You're not going to play games with me," threatened Blane, his options running desperately through his head. All he had for back up was a frail framed sixty year old Icelandic man and a physically huge but out of shape Vice President.

"I can assure-" Sammeron Mack began to say, but stopped when he felt himself being lifted off the floor, hovering and ascending from the ground in Blane's grip. Armed security guards burst through the doors with guns drawn. Mack's aides drew theirs.

"Don't shoot!" commanded Blane. He appeared confident, but he was flapping underneath. "You hurt me, I drop him."

7:45

Sammeron stared wide eyed at Blane and then tried looking down. "Do what you have to, but you're too late," Sammeron whispered menacingly.