The Greatest Serial Killer in the Universe by Robert T. Jeschonek
Authors: Robert T. Jeschonek
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The Greatest Serial Killer in the Universe
By
Robert T. Jeschonek
" No, no, no, " said Luther James Paraclete, snatching the knife from the alien ' s tentacle. " Like this. "
Lunging forward, he plunged the blade up to the hilt into the soft bulb of the second alien ' s head. Milky pink fluid spurted out at once, then gushed as Luther sliced the knife across the bulb, tearing a long gash.
The victim creature made a noise like a cross between a sneeze and a shrill whistle. As Luther finished the cut, pink milk poured over his hairy forearm, running off the point of his elbow. The alien ' s head-bulb drained in an instant and collapsed like a deflated balloon.
The rest of the creature ' s body followed, slumping to the street. Blue and yellow fluids streamed out of the gash, flowing from lower regions of the corpse to mingle with the pool of pink milk.
" Now that ' s how you kill, " said Luther, wiping the dripping blade on his black coveralls. The air was thick with the stink of rotten fish, and he breathed it in deeply. After five killings, Luther was starting to like the rank odor given off by dying Ectozoids.
" Tried, " said the first alien, puffing out the word through a fluttering maw on its forehead. " Could not do. " The alien ' s name was Boraf Zolagorg. Like all Ectozoids, it looked like a man-sized jellyfish with a lower body of translucent bulbs and tentacles.
And it was Luther ' s employer for the duration.
In a way, Luther was sorry that the ' Zoids looked the way they did. Killing a creature that looked like something that had washed up on the beach wasn ' t quite the same as murdering a red-blooded Earthling.
On the other hand, Luther felt a different kind of thrill knowing that he was the first Earthling serial killer to take a stab at an extraterrestrial species. He liked killing what no human had killed before.
Now if he could just get the ' Zoids to do some killing of their own. It was, after all, the reason Boraf was paying him.
" Here, " said Luther, holding the knife by the blade and extending the hilt toward Boraf. " Take it. Let ' s find our next volunteer. "
Boraf did not reach out a tentacle for the weapon. The alien ' s gelatinous head-bulb quivered in the light from the planet ' s double moons. " Want to, " said Boraf. " But no can. Ectozoid no kill. "
When Luther stepped up close to the creature, Boraf ' s bulb dimpled as if pushed in by the human ' s breath. " You don ' t have any choice, " said Luther. " It ' s kill or be killed now, right? "
" Still no kill, " puffed Boraf.
Luther scowled and shook his head. He was starting to think that the job he ' d been hired to do was undoable.
In the three days he ' d been on Ectos, Luther had killed five locals, which was history-making and good for his lifetime average, but he ' d had zero success in developing the killer instinct in Boraf. Like all Ectozoids, Boraf seemed to lack the ability to kill.
It wasn ' t that the ' Zoids weren ' t powerful enough to kill, because they were. As fragile as they looked, the aliens were strong and quick. They were able to generate and discharge bioelectricity , too, though Luther had only ever seen them fire off little zaps of it.
It wasn ' t that the ' Zoids lacked the motivation to kill, either. They said they expected a hostile invasion in a little over a week and were desperate to prepare for it.
It was just that none of them had the killer instinct. On their happy little world, unlike Earth, all life
co-existed harmoniously. The ' Zoids and lesser species on Ectos shared a low-grade link which was, if not a hive intelligence, at least a limited collective awareness. Organisms ate other organisms for sustenance, but it was more the result of a mutual agreement than a predator-prey competition for survival.
The Ectozoids were simply not wired for killing. In fact, there had never been a murder on Ectos, not even one, until Luther had arrived.
Luther thought that was pretty cool. Not only was
By
Robert T. Jeschonek
" No, no, no, " said Luther James Paraclete, snatching the knife from the alien ' s tentacle. " Like this. "
Lunging forward, he plunged the blade up to the hilt into the soft bulb of the second alien ' s head. Milky pink fluid spurted out at once, then gushed as Luther sliced the knife across the bulb, tearing a long gash.
The victim creature made a noise like a cross between a sneeze and a shrill whistle. As Luther finished the cut, pink milk poured over his hairy forearm, running off the point of his elbow. The alien ' s head-bulb drained in an instant and collapsed like a deflated balloon.
The rest of the creature ' s body followed, slumping to the street. Blue and yellow fluids streamed out of the gash, flowing from lower regions of the corpse to mingle with the pool of pink milk.
" Now that ' s how you kill, " said Luther, wiping the dripping blade on his black coveralls. The air was thick with the stink of rotten fish, and he breathed it in deeply. After five killings, Luther was starting to like the rank odor given off by dying Ectozoids.
" Tried, " said the first alien, puffing out the word through a fluttering maw on its forehead. " Could not do. " The alien ' s name was Boraf Zolagorg. Like all Ectozoids, it looked like a man-sized jellyfish with a lower body of translucent bulbs and tentacles.
And it was Luther ' s employer for the duration.
In a way, Luther was sorry that the ' Zoids looked the way they did. Killing a creature that looked like something that had washed up on the beach wasn ' t quite the same as murdering a red-blooded Earthling.
On the other hand, Luther felt a different kind of thrill knowing that he was the first Earthling serial killer to take a stab at an extraterrestrial species. He liked killing what no human had killed before.
Now if he could just get the ' Zoids to do some killing of their own. It was, after all, the reason Boraf was paying him.
" Here, " said Luther, holding the knife by the blade and extending the hilt toward Boraf. " Take it. Let ' s find our next volunteer. "
Boraf did not reach out a tentacle for the weapon. The alien ' s gelatinous head-bulb quivered in the light from the planet ' s double moons. " Want to, " said Boraf. " But no can. Ectozoid no kill. "
When Luther stepped up close to the creature, Boraf ' s bulb dimpled as if pushed in by the human ' s breath. " You don ' t have any choice, " said Luther. " It ' s kill or be killed now, right? "
" Still no kill, " puffed Boraf.
Luther scowled and shook his head. He was starting to think that the job he ' d been hired to do was undoable.
In the three days he ' d been on Ectos, Luther had killed five locals, which was history-making and good for his lifetime average, but he ' d had zero success in developing the killer instinct in Boraf. Like all Ectozoids, Boraf seemed to lack the ability to kill.
It wasn ' t that the ' Zoids weren ' t powerful enough to kill, because they were. As fragile as they looked, the aliens were strong and quick. They were able to generate and discharge bioelectricity , too, though Luther had only ever seen them fire off little zaps of it.
It wasn ' t that the ' Zoids lacked the motivation to kill, either. They said they expected a hostile invasion in a little over a week and were desperate to prepare for it.
It was just that none of them had the killer instinct. On their happy little world, unlike Earth, all life
co-existed harmoniously. The ' Zoids and lesser species on Ectos shared a low-grade link which was, if not a hive intelligence, at least a limited collective awareness. Organisms ate other organisms for sustenance, but it was more the result of a mutual agreement than a predator-prey competition for survival.
The Ectozoids were simply not wired for killing. In fact, there had never been a murder on Ectos, not even one, until Luther had arrived.
Luther thought that was pretty cool. Not only was
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