Contractor Read online

  Contractor

  By Andrew S. Ball

  Copyright 2014 Andrew S. Ball

  License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this eBook. Like

  a real book, this eBook is meant to be shared

  as you see fit. It may be reproduced, copied

  and distributed for non-commercial

  purposes, provided the book remains in its

  complete original form. If you enjoyed this

  eBook, don't hesitate to show support for the

  author by purchasing a copy from your

  preferred eBook retailer. Thanks!

  ###

  For my big sister, and my little sister, who

  always made sure I didn’t do anything too

  stupid.

  ###

  Contents

  Title Page

  License Notes

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Novels by Andrew S. Ball

  Chapter One

  Bonaparte

  There is little more frustrating to the

  writer of a 25 page history paper than a

  serious case of writer’s block that strikes at

  page 24. Daniel Fitzgerald was in that

  precise situation.

  The little black bar that marked his

  place in the word processor winked at him in

  a cheery, ugly little taunt. He’d written for a

  solid six hours, but the flow of text from his

  brain and onto his keyboard had ground to a

  halt. The mental exhaustion had caught up

  with him. He squinted, and tapped his finger

  on his desk, as if he was turning the key to a

  stubborn ignition. It didn’t help.

  That finger itched up to the little lock of

  brown hair that hung down from his

  forehead. His thoughts turned, and his finger

  turned the little lock of hair across his skin,

  wrapping it up, then letting it hang free. Then

  wrapping it up again.

  Two words slithered in from Daniel’s

  window. "Good evening."

  Daniel was mentally gliding over a

  dizzying array of minute facts concerning the

  arrangement of Napoleon’s armies at

  Waterloo, so he was understandably zoned

  out. The short greeting drifted over the

  surface of his brain, but didn’t quite sink in.

  And then it did.

  He was alone. He hadn’t heard anyone

  come in. He didn’t recognize the voice. He

  turned his head away from the stacks of

  reference books crowding his computer desk

  and toward the source of the sound.

  Hovering outside Daniel’s bedroom

  windowsill was a person—only not quite,

  because its head was that of a frog. It was

  dressed in a purple and red pinstripe suit.

  Round red eyes stared out from under a

  wide-brimmed top hat covered with so many

  colors and holographic stripes it made

  Daniel’s eyes water. White-gloved hands

  fingered a wooden baton.

  The frog man offered a thin smile. "Your

  pardon. I realize you must be busy, but I

  would like to -"

  Daniel sighed and turned back to his

  computer. He stared at the blinking line on

  his monitor. Nothing put him to sleep like

  things he didn’t really want to do. The

  Napoleonic Wars had seemed so interesting

  at the time.

  "Ahem." The frog tapped his cane on the

  wall. "Might I come in?"

  "Well, why the hell not?" Daniel said. "I haven’t had a lucid dream in forever." He

  stretched his arms behind his head and spun

  on his swivel chair. "Make yourself at

  home."

  He watched with mild interest as the

  frog-person struggled to wedge itself through

  the window. Spindly limbs that were too

  long for its tiny torso made the process a bit

  awkward. Once inside, it stood straight.

  "May I sit?"

  "Be my guest."

  The frog swept its hat from its perch

  over those red eyes and sat on the edge of

  Daniel’s bed. "Thank you. Mr. Daniel

  Thomas Fitzgerald, if I’m not mistaken?

  Sometimes I muddle the pronunciation of

  your names."

  "You got it right this time. What are you

  supposed to be?"

  The frog looked miffed. "My full name

  is Xikanthus Vol'mund Dovian

  pom’Nafalstra, but you may call me Xik."

  "Xik," Daniel said. "Welcome to my

  dreams. What can I do for you?"

  "I can see you’re the down-to-earth sort.

  That is one of the more common

  assumptions, but I can assure you this is not a

  dream. You’ve been chosen for a purpose of

  vital import."

  "Awesome. Let’s hear it."

  "…I’ve shielded the room so your

  reaction didn’t alert your household, but I

  suppose that was unnecessary. I understand

  we look like one of your more common

  amphibians?"

  "Yeah, a frog," Daniel agreed.

  "And yet you are…" Xik made a vague

  gesture. "…nonplussed. I admit I expected a

  measure of panic. Surprise, at least."

  "I guess fantasy stories had to be

  grounded in something," Daniel said. "Here

  you are. Or maybe I’ve played too many

  video games and I’m desensitized to the idea

  of circus freaks popping in through my

  bedroom window."

  "I admit I’m abnormal by your

  standards, but freak is too strong a term."

  "Just calling it like I see it. Why the hell

  are you wearing that?"

  "…I expected a why-are-you-here, to be

  honest."

  "You’ve got quite a few expectations."

  Daniel smirked. "You sneak into bedroom

  windows often?"

  "Ah…relatively speaking."

  "Can I get you a drink? Water? Pond

  scum?"

  Xik made a face. "Clever." He inspected

  the room for a moment. His big red frog eyes

  traveled across Daniel’s plain door, stuck

  with three movies posters; his gaze lingered

  on his bookshelf. There was a stack of old

  comic books there, collecting dust, and a

  row of video game cases. Finally, he looked

  back to Daniel’s face. "I’m fine, but thank

  you."

  "So, what’s this vital purpose I’ve been

  chosen for? Need your gutters cleaned?"

  "More like Earth needs its gutters

  cleaned." Xik stood again, which Daniel

  found odd, considering he’d asked to sit only

  thirty seconds ago. His long legs put his head

  close to the ceiling. "Daniel F
itzgerald. Your

  world is under assault by a vicious race of

  creatures known as the Vorid. Throughout the

  multiverse, they feed upon the souls of

  sentient life, and as such, are diametrically

  and irrevocably opposed to any living,

  breathing intelligence."

  "Funny. I haven’t seen that on the news

  lately."

  "Magic assists them in remaining

  clandestine, but rest assured, these creatures

  are very active, and very intent on devouring

  humanity." Xik leaned forward. "I am from

  another universe that wages open war against

  the Vorid. The multiverse, unfortunately, is a

  very big place, and our resources are

  pressed holding the Vorid where they are.

  Our solution to this problem is to empower

  other peoples to fight for themselves, thereby

  opening multiple fronts against our common

  enemy. You have been selected to receive a

  means of fighting them on behalf of your

  entire race."

  Daniel gave a mock-solemn nod. "And

  what does that entail, exactly, my amphibious

  friend?"

  "I am a contract manager, a point of

  contact between Humans, and Klide, my own

  species. Contract is an approximate term—

  our languages aren’t neat equivalents." The

  way Xik said the words made Daniel feel as

  though he’d said them many times before. "Its

  essence is an enchantment which unlocks the

  magical power residing within sentient

  creatures. Your science has not advanced

  enough to do this for you, and so we’ve taken

  the initiative ourselves. Agree to the

  contract, and you will gain the power to

  protect your home, and people." Xik clasped

  his hands. "In time, you will be quite

  something among your own kind. Your

  abilities are yours to do with as you wish—

  aside from an obligation to fight the Vorid

  whenever you encounter them. This is a war,

  after all."

  "…let me get this straight. You’re going

  to give me magic to fight back against

  interdimensional aliens that are attacking

  Earth and harvesting our souls for food?"

  "More or less," Xik said.

  Daniel probed his temples with his

  fingertips. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

  "I am entirely serious," Xik said. "The power you will obtain is enormous. The

  magic you know from your fantasies, your

  legends, is at times exaggerated or

  incorrectly portrayed, but its might is

  formidable. You can become a force for

  good, or for whatever cause suits your fancy

  —right this very instant. We aren’t

  concerned with Earth’s politics and have no

  desire to interfere in your society. The only

  stipulation we have is that you fight the

  Vorid. You will become a warrior for your

  people." Xik extended his gloved hand. "Mr.

  Fitzgerald. Will you accept this burden? Will

  you make the contract and fight for those who

  cannot fight for themselves?"

  "No."

  Xik blinked. "…what?"

  "Nope. No thanks. Nein."

  "But…humanity is under duress as we

  speak. Millions are dead already! And the

  magic," Xik added, "once it grows, you’ll be very powerful. You’ll be able to achieve

  anything you want."

  "Already got plans. I’m going to college,

  and then to law school. I don’t want to be a

  superhero." Daniel brushed his hair back

  around his ears. "Haven’t you read a book

  lately? Adventure isn’t all it’s cracked up to

  be."

  "That’s not the point."

  "Even if someone else takes over the

  world, he’ll still need a justice department."

  "But your friends, your family! They

  could be next! The Vorid -"

  "Are someone else’s problem." Daniel

  folded his arms. "I could get killed in a car

  crash tomorrow. A meteorite could destroy

  my house. I could get mugged and beaten to

  death. Or, I guess could get eaten by Vorid.

  Life’s fragile like that."

  Xik paused. "And that’s it?"

  "That’s it."

  Xik took a breath and started again.

  "You just really don’t care? You have an

  incredible chance to end needless suffering

  and become something amazing!"

  "I don’t need magic for that." Daniel

  sighed. "Sorry, but you knocked on the wrong

  door. You can take my winning lottery ticket

  to someone else. Promise I don’t mind."

  Xik screwed his face up. "How you can

  be so disgustingly apathetic is extremely

  bothersome."

  "Welcome to Earth. Hope you enjoy

  your stay." Daniel tilted his head. "Or do you actually think I believe you?"

  "You don’t believe me?"

  "A mysterious alien shows up in the

  middle of the night and offers me a magical

  contract—and I’m supposed to just take your

  hand and leap off the cliff inside of two

  minutes?" Daniel raised an eyebrow.

  "There’s a lot I don’t know. You’ve been

  pretty vague. I don’t like the word vague

  when it’s adjacent to the word obligation.

  This could be a demonic ritual for all I

  know. What aren’t you telling me, Xik?"

  Xik let his arm fall to his side. He

  narrowed his eyes. "…you’re very cold for a

  human, aren’t you?"

  "I don’t like handouts. They tend to

  come with leashes."

  They stared at each other for a long

  moment.

  Xik huffed, then put his hands on his

  hips. "This approach has worked for every

  other human I’ve encountered. Everyone

  jumped at the chance."

  "I’m not everyone."

  "A fine point. Perhaps, if you saw it

  with your own eyes, you’d think differently."

  Xik waved a hand.

  Blue sparks flew over Daniel like a

  cloud of shimmering confetti. They settled on

  his exposed skin, then vanished. Daniel

  stiffened, then felt at his arms with his

  fingertips. "…what the hell was that?"

  "That spell will let you see through their

  illusion. Nothing more."

  "Right. Thanks."

  Xik gathered up his puke-colored hat,

  fixed it atop his head, and leaned out the

  window. He glanced back over his shoulder.

  "Are you sure that -"

  "Positive."

  "A good night to you, then." The eclectic

  frog threaded its long legs back over the

  windowsill, which was like watching a

  multicolored toothpick jab itself through a

  hole. In a flutter of white curtains, Xik was

  gone.

  Daniel sighed and sat back. His index

  finger automatically started working at his

  lock of hair. This was the weirdest dream

  he’d ever had. Had he looked up something

  on Wikipedia about frogs or top hats?

  He rejected Xik’s offer more out of

  spite for how ina
ne it all was than anything

  else, but the lack of information was a real

  concern, too. Daniel’s goal of law school

  might be uneventful, but he’d take boredom

  over eternal suffering any day. Just look what

  happened to Faust.

  "Hey Danny!"

  Felix burst into his room. His seven-

  year-old brother dangled in off the doorknob

  by his hands. The door’s hinges groaned and

  creaked as they bore the sudden weight.

  Daniel, having stiffened in alarm, sighed

  back into his chair. "You’ll break it if you

  keep doing that."

  "Whoa!" Felix’s hands slipped off the

  knob. He collapsed to the floor, then got to

  his feet while Daniel laughed. "It’s not

  funny!"

  "Absolutely. Not funny at all." Daniel

  forced his face to be overly-serious. "No

  laughing allowed."

  Felix folded his arms and tried to mash

  his lips into a frown, but eventually a smile

  broke through anyway. "Ok, I guess it was

  kinda funny." Felix brushed his pants, then

  his hair. Daniel’s hair was dark brown, but

  Felix’s was a much lighter mix with plenty of

  gold. Brown from James. Gold from mom.

  "Are you here to injure yourself for my

  entertainment, or is there something you

  wanted?" Daniel asked.

  "Um, dinner’s ready."

  "At least you would have broken your

  neck for a good cause."

  Daniel clicked the save button on his

  computer and followed Felix down the

  stairs. They clomped across the tile of their

  kitchen. James, their father, busied himself

  moving cooked food from the stove onto

  potholders waiting on their square wooden

  table.

  Three sides of the table were set. The

  fourth spot was empty. Plates and silverware

  and napkins gave that fourth spot a wide

  berth in the same way that pedestrians avoid

  a ragged, smelly bum lying in the dark corner

  of a subway. Something they’d rather not talk

  about, not look at, and just altogether pretend

  didn’t exist.

  Daniel tried to ignore the way in which

  everything was squeezed onto the other

  three-quarters of the table. He inhaled the

  scent of garlic bread that wafted out of the

  kitchen. They’d had pasta and garlic bread

  quite a bit lately—it was easy to make—but

  that was fine with him. He would eat pasta

  every day if he could.

  They all sat down and scooted their

  chairs into the table. There was a flurry of

  clinks and slops as they doled out the sauce