He reached a hand down. “You’re asking or telling?”
“Asking.” I put out my hand and he grabbed it above the wrist.
“No.” He pulled me up. Easily. More easily than Jeff could have. Set me down gently as well. “Interesting choice with the baseball mitt.” He smiled again. “But that’s why I like you. You always make interesting choices.”
Took the mitt and my purse off and put them down while my mind raced. I could think very quickly when I had to, and the feeling of having to was quite strong. “You’re the Operations Team? You’re the Elves?” As I said this, I realized his accent sounded Irish.
Algar grinned. “That’s me. You’re a bright one. Even if I did give you a hint. Lassie.” Got the distinct impression the accent was being faked for my benefit and Algar’s amusement. He patted White on the back. “Come on, there. Time to breathe. You too,” he said to Gower, as he patted his back as well.
“Wait, you’re really an Elf? Or a Leprechaun? Or whatever?”
Algar gave me a look I was used to—the Prove You’re Smarter Than You Sound look. “What do you think I am?”
“Not from around here.” He grinned, but didn’t say anything else. Got another distinct impression—this one was that we weren’t leaving this area without Algar’s approval. And that was likely dependent upon me figuring out what he wanted me to. Always the way.
I looked around. We were in what I was fairly sure was a small reclamation plant. It didn’t stink, for which I was eternally grateful, but it didn’t look like someplace anyone would just hang out for the fun of it, either.
We’d indeed come up through clean water—I could see almost all the way down to the hatch, which was now closed. Our tank was connected to two other tanks, both filled with what looked like clean water. The water level in “our” tank was high and seemed constant, though it looked like one of the other tanks was low and slowly filling back up. Assumed this meant it had been emptying into “our” tank as “our” tank had emptied into the holding room, meaning we’d never have lasted until the water had fully drained out of the pipe.
It was an impressive system but what it was doing was the question. If this actually was a reclamation area, the water needing to be cleaned and filtered appeared to be missing. There were other things missing, too. And there were things here that made no sense, including what looked like a bed off in a far corner of the room, mostly hidden behind the third tank.
“I thought this was water reclamation, but you’re not reclaiming anything, at least, not that I can see.”
Algar shrugged. “I’m reclaiming it. Just because you can’t see it happen doesn’t mean that it’s not real.”
“You sound Irish, but there’s no way you are. Your eyes are wrong for any human or A-C. You’re too strong, and that snapping the fingers thing would make me think you’re magic, only I don’t think you actually are.”
“So, what do you think I am?”
He’d nodded his head toward the others on the platform when he’d told me his real name was unpronounceable, no one had ever mentioned a race of short, strong, people with really bright eyes over in the Alpha Centauri system, and he had powers that seemed unreal. But then again, as was so often said, the higher the technology, the more like magic it appears.
“I think you’re from far, far away. My guess is the galactic core, but that’s only a guess.” After all, the Ancients and Mephistopheles had come from near the core, and they were all extra-special as compared to those of us out here in the boondocks part of the Milky Way.
This earned me another smile from Algar. “Correct.” Wondered if he knew Olga. He’d love her if he didn’t—they were clearly cut from the same Make You Work For It cloth.
“And you’re here to save us from drowning how and why?”
“You were just lucky.”
“I doubt that. So, how is it that you’re the Operations Team? I’ve been told that team works via a spatio-temporal warp using black hole technology.”
Algar nodded. “I do.”
“You, one dude, are the entire Operations Team? You’re not the Elves but the Elf?”
He shrugged again. “It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it.”
“I call shenanigans. I’ve been told, nay, lectured, about how there’s this whole team of A-Cs dedicated to the cleanup cause. Pierre said he’s met them, too.”
“Pierre may think he’s met ‘them,’ but yet you’ve never met a single one of them, have you?”
This was true enough. I’d never met anyone who’d ever said they’d ever been on the Operations Team. Nor had anyone ever mentioned that their dad or mom was, say, on the Operations Team. “You’re saying that everyone’s lying to me? People who have, for the past three-plus years, proven to me on a daily if not hourly basis that they can’t lie? They’ve been aware you’re around and lying like time-tested politicians?”
Algar chuckled. “Oh no, not everyone. Not most, really. It’s rather the other way around. Most believe, truly believe, that there’s a full Operations Team in place.” He helped White and Gower to their feet. “Just a small handful know of my existence. Only those with a right or a need to know.”
“We’re in the middle of a huge attack right now. Any chance you can fix things up with a snap of your magic elvish fingers?”
“Absolutely not.” Said with the calm coolness a person would use when passing on the offer of a refill of Coca-Cola.
“And why is that?”
“Would you like me to explain it for you?” White asked.
Algar shot him an amused glance. “You enjoy the pussyfooting as much as I do.”
“Not when our people’s lives are at stake.”
“They’re always at stake. That’s what makes you all so interesting.” Algar turned back to me. “Yes, I’m an alien race. We’re immortal, or close to it. I’m faster than you can conceive, faster than any A-C could ever hope to be, even if they were born in a Surcenthumain petri dish. My people are Black Hole People.”
“You mean your planet became a black hole?”
“No. I mean our planet is within a black hole. We exist within it. Believe me, it’s a great boon to many things. Speed, strength, and immortality are just part of what comes with being part of the Black Hole People.”
“So why are you here doing everyone’s laundry?” Algar suddenly seemed very interested in helping Adriana into a comfortable sitting position. “Oh, come on. Time, it’s of the essence. And all that. Richard, you feel like sharing?”
“Only if Algar wants to hear my particular spin on his existence.”
Algar rolled his eyes as he turned back to me. “No, I’ve heard it. When you’re immortal, things get dull. So, I . . . journeyed around the galaxy. Stumbled onto Alpha Four back when they thought they were Alpha One and Only. Their king was a good man, trying to get a planet organized and headed into what you’d call their Renaissance Period. Those are always interesting times, so I stuck around and struck a bargain.”
Wanted to ask why a being as powerful as Algar appeared to be needed to bargain with a far less powerful race, but chose to hold the question.
“In order for the people to focus on the important tasks at hand, I agreed to be the one who handled all the grunt work chores, so to speak. In return, I get to hang around and watch. I don’t interfere, and no one but the ruler actually knows I’m here.”
He stopped talking and gave me a pleasant smile. I waited. Nothing more was coming from Algar.
“Really? I’m supposed to buy that line of doublespeak?”
“What do you mean?” Algar sounded mildly offended. Decided not to care.