Someone assured me yesterday that the tinkral would have universal translation magic because the spell was created to encompass the entire universe. It doesn’t work on most humans, and sometimes, even with the humans the spell does work for, it only works for some species. We don’t know if I will be able to hear the tinkral in my own language, but we’re hoping that the spell will work since I can perceive the small gargoyles and the cards think I should represent Earth on this mission.
One of the tinkral steps up with their scales pulsing between a vibrant green and a brick red. Somehow I know that means they’re laughing. “Hello, little Dec,” the dragon replies, and it sounds like they’re from the midwest.
Not the part of the midwest that speaks in a standard American accent except that they have a few weird names thrown in, but the part of the midwest where the phrase “don’tcha know” is commonly used. Why would the translation give them a midwestern accent?
“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You said your name was Dec? That’s adorable. Did your mother have a litter of ten? I didn't realize humans were so prolific.” As anaside to one of the other dragons looking at me, they add, “We might have to sterilize most of the population so they aren’t breeding out of control.”
I’ve never been talked to like I’m a pet, and now that I have, I can say from experience that it’s really fucking demeaning. “Sir or ma’am or other, please refrain from treating me like a pet. I’m not here to entertain you or keep you company. I’m here to discover the reason for your visit and to remind you that the Intergalactic Planetary Preservation Society has designated Earth as a protected planet and humans as an endangered species, and the Alliance of Species ratified that status in the Abron accords. The protected status is to remain in effect until such time as more than fifty percent of the human population is capable of perceiving magic.”
“Aww, he thinks he’s a diplomat,” the dragon says to their friends, and they all laugh by fluctuating the color of their scales between green and reddish brown.
Fun. How do I convince these dragons to take me seriously?
I take a deep breath and glance back at Thoren who’s standing behind me. His breathing is getting heavier like he’s ready to attack, but I’m really hoping for a peaceful resolution. I tighten the reins I have on my butler training and give the dragon a bland smile, keeping my tone cool and even. “I am not a diplomat. I’m not here to negotiate. I’m here to greet you. Whether that greeting is a ‘please enjoy your visit’ or a ‘we are not accepting visitors at this time’ is entirely up to you.”
The lead dragon bends over to put us eye to eye, speaking with a smile in their tone. “You’re adorable. We’re here to take responsibility for the humans and their planet. They’re not good stewards of their resources and the IPPS is failing at influencing the world leaders into creating serious conservation efforts. We’re going to preserve Earth and occupy it. Humans will quickly be interbred with other species that can perceive magic,and within fifty years, half of the humans on the planet will be able to perceive magic. You can tell your ambassador that. The tinkral are taking responsibility for the preservation of Earth.”
“Ah, I do apologize, but I regret to inform you that Earth will not be accepting visitors at this time. Please exit the solar system as quickly as possible and call before planning a return trip. I will inform the ambassador that you have chosen to be unwelcome.” I put my hands behind my back, indicating to Thoren that now is the time to initiate the disabling.
The scales on the dragon turn a shade of blue that I suddenly know communicates their disappointment. “There’s really no stopping us. Earth isn’t well protected enough to stop us from coming to its aid.”
This person is completely delusional. “As I have said, please make your exit out of the solar system as quickly as possible. If you fail to comply, it will be a galactic standard month before anyone from the Alliance of Species will be able to respond to your distress.” That last part isn’t necessarily true, but I don’t think it will take much convincing to keep anyone from sending aid to these fuckers.
“It's a good thing you’re cute, little human. Tell you what, why don’t you follow my nice friend here to a lovely playroom where you can relax and have fun without worrying about what we’re doing. We’ll make sure your ambassador knows what’s happening and keep him informed of your wellbeing.”
I sigh and look back at Thoren. “Shall we?”
We’ve got a few engines to disable.
Thoren starts to say something, but then he stops and tilts his head, swiveling his pointed ears like he’s listening for something. The dragons still and their coloring shifts from green to red, telling me that they’re amused again.
“Did the little gargoyles arrive?” I ask, fairly certain Thoren is listening to his friends making minced meat of the ship's innards.
I can’t hear them, but once Thoren explained that all stone-based creatures with magic can teleport (including all the species of gargoyles in the known universe), I asked if the little gargoyles might be able to infiltrate and disable the ships without putting the brothers at risk, and they all agreed they should have thought of that option too. According to the brothers, the little gargoyles were the originals on Earth and have a vested interest in keeping Earth safe, which is why they hang out on the mansion’s roof.
The cards made their opinion known by somehow calling Thoren an idiot. I don’t know how he read that in the cards, but he did.
Me? I think the cards were just fucking with me. There’s absolutely no reason I should have come at all. I’ve gotten nowhere with the dragons, and I’m basically just a pet to them. They’re not taking me seriously, and why hasn’t Thoren said anything?
“Is that how you got here?” the midwestern dragon asks surprised. “I wondered how you got past the wards.”
I stare at him confused, then point to the big ass gargoyle standing directly behind me. “My escort brought me.”
The dragon looks beyond me and his scales turn reddish brown again. “What do you mean?”
These fuckers are laughing at me.
I reach back to pull Thoren forward, but he’s not where I expect him, so I turn to grab him, and he’s right there. I reach for his arm, but instead of my hand meeting his flesh, I pass right through him. We both have a moment of disbelief before Thoren disappears, leaving me alone with the dragons.
I straighten my spine, call on my inner badass butler, and return my focus to the dragons in the room that think I'm cute and like to tease.
Time to find out what they did with Thoren, and I don’t mind playing dirty.
Chapter eighteen
Thoren
(We should call this strategy “Weaponized Cuteness”)
