Charlie Boone

by Geron Kees

It's Just a Christmas Surprise, Charlie Boone!

This is a work of fiction. All characters and situations are imaginary. No real people were harmed in the creation of this presentation.

This story actually precedes the immeditaleyt prior tale, Life is Like a New Suit of Clothes, Charlie Boone!, in the Charlie Boone time frame.

Browbeat edged up to the staircase wall, his wings humming as he hovered, and peered down the upstairs hallway. The house was quiet, but he knew it wasn't unoccupied. He could hear Kip talking somewhere, and Charlie and Rick and Adrian laughing, but no one was in sight, which was all that mattered.

"The coast is clear," he whispered to the small figure behind him. "Just try not to bang that crate into anything."

"You sure?" Casper asked, keying the gravity manipulator that had hold of the ponderous load. "It's not easy putting something over on the guys. I'd hate to have to move fast with this thing. It could take out a wall if it hit it!"

"Just don't do that!" the flyer returned, suppressing a groan. He spun on his axis to look at his friend, who was still coming down the staircase from Engris. Before him was a very large crate, one of those synthetic plastic ones that so many alien merchants seemed to favor, suspended above the staircase treads by a trick of gravity that Earth's scientists would have killed to possess.

"Just be careful," Browbeat repeated. "I'd hate to spoil the surprise!"

Casper grinned, and released a small, nervous laugh filled with anticipation. "Are they gonna be blown up, or what?"

"I think it's blown away," Browbeat corrected, smiling. "But, yeah, they will be, once they see what we got them!"

The flyer paused then, listening again to the sounds of merriment from the first floor. "I think they're decorating one of the trees." He laughed. "It sounds like Kip is in charge of the proceedings."

Casper sighed contentedly. "Then it will be a pretty tree. Kip is good at that stuff."

Browbeat focused a moment, listening to the conversation below. It sounded like the guys were discussing what sort of decoration to put atop the parlor tree.

"...the thing I got on Pistinel would be nice," Adrian was saying.

"That thing that looks like a little garden exploded?" Kippy asked, sounding unconvinced.

"Sure. It's a Pisteneli symbol for peace and fulfillment. Can you think of something better for the top of the tree?"

"A ham sandwich would be nice," Rick said, his voice filled with longing. "I missed lunch. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," Adrian dismissed. "What about it, Kip? Can we at least see what it looks like on the tree?"

There was a moment of silence, in which Browbeat imagined Kip turning to Charlie, and Charlie nodding.

"Okay," Kip said. "Where is the thing?"

"Up in our room," Adrian returned, sounding pleased now.. "I'll be right back."

It took a full second for panic to develop in Browbeat's brain. "Casper! He's coming up here!"

But his friend didn't even have time to react. There was a popping sound just a few feet down the hallway, and Adrian appeared, his back to them. He didn't see either of the suddenly petrified visitors, but instead danced into the room he shared with Rick.

For the merest part of a second, silence reigned. Casper became active then, and hustled the crate down the last few steps into the hallway. Browbeat turned to the door directly across from them, and used his antenna to turn the knob. "In here!" he hissed.

The crate was somehow maneuvered into the room without hitting the walls or the doorway, and Browbeat pushed the door closed until he was just peering through a crack along the edge. This was the guest bedroom - or, one of several - and there would be no reason for Adrian to come here now. He hoped!

But Adrian reappeared in the hallway then, carrying a small, bright object that looked like a fruit salad that had been in a windstorm. His back was still to them, and he disappeared into a teleport just as quickly as he had arrived.

"That was close," Browbeat whispered, feeling the strain now. "Or...maybe not. He wasn't even looking our way."

"I didn't think they'd be teleporting around the house," Casper complained. He blew out a small breath, and laughed. "That was kind of exciting, though."

Browbeat rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't think walking would be such a strain." But then he tittered softly. "It was pretty wild, wasn't it?"

He peered through the slit in the door again, and was rewarded with total silence from the hallway. Once again, he could hear the guys talking downstairs.

"I wish I could teleport," Casper said wistfully. "Then we could just stick this by the big tree in the living room, and no one would know how it got there."

"One day, we'll be able to do it," Browbeat assured. "Everyone is learning everything, and really fast, too." He tittered again. "You don't get any dust building under your feet with Charlie and Kip!"

"Is it okay now?" Casper asked, allowing the crate to move gently towards the door again. "How are we going to get this downstairs without them hearing us?"

"Or sensing you," a voice said behind them.

Browbeat whirled, only to find Kippy standing behind them, his arms crossed before him, his eyes alert and watchful. "You should know no one can enter the house without Lugh knowing about it."

Browbeat groaned, having actually forgotten about the ancient Irish spirit that ran the house. "Lugh, you brat!" he yelled at the ceiling. "You told!"

Kippy relaxed then, and smiled at them. "What are you two doing, tiptoeing around up here?" He pointed at the overlarge crate. "And what is that?"

Casper frowned at him. "How'd you get here, Kip? I didn't hear you teleport."

"When I sensed you two through Lugh, I teleported to the bathroom down the hall, and just walked through the guest bedrooms using the interconnecting doors."

"That's sneaky," Browbeat accused, though he wasn't really mad. They'd been caught fair and square, and there was no use being upset about it now.

Kippy just laughed. "And you and Casper aren't sneaking around up here?"

"We're delivering," Browbeat insisted. "It's different."

"Tell that to Lugh. He notified me that you two were pussyfooting around up here with a huge box."

"Aw," Casper said, finally admitting defeat. "You spoiled our surprise!"

Kippy was well acquainted with surprises, and the thought that he had spoiled one now weighed heavily on his features. "I'm sorry. You should have let me know. Then I wouldn't have interfered."

"But then it wouldn't have been a surprise!" Casper returned, sounding exasperated.

Kippy blinked, sensing the dilemma; and then he smiled. "It can still be a surprise for the others. What are you doing? Let me help, and we'll still get it done."

"We're trying to get this crate down to the living room," Browbeat explained. "Once it's by the tree, only the gift tag will tell."

Kippy inched forward, eyeballing the tag hanging from the crate. "To Charlie, Kip, Rick, and Adrian," he read aloud. "From your two biggest fans." .He frowned. "Why didn't you just say it was from you two?"

Browbeat tittered. "There had to be some doubt. Some mystery. That's what Christmas presents are all about!"

Just then, the crate emitted a muffled groan of some kind, and shifted in the grip of the gravity manipulator.

Kippy reared back, looking astonished. "You have something alive in there?"

Browbeat and Casper exchanged looks. "It's not supposed to do that!" Casper exclaimed.

"I know!" Browbeat reexamined the crate now, his eyes holding suspicion. "That thief Rampree better not have stiffed us!"

Kippy's eyes grew in size. "You bought something from Rampree? The man's a pirate!"

Browbeat and Casper stared a moment, and then both of them broke out in laughter.

"They're all pirates," Casper said gleefully. "That's why they call it the pirate market!"

"He said it was authentic, though," Browbeat asserted. "The first one he's seen in fifty years, he said. It was too good a deal to miss!"

Kippy watched his two friends a moment, and then smiled. "You got a good deal from Rampree? And that didn't make you suspicious?"

"Oh, it wasn't cheap," Browbeat admitted. "It was a great deal because it was the only one in the whole market, now and probably for a long time to come."

Casper leaned forward and rapped on the crate. There was no response from within. "Probably just shifted inside the crate." He looked over at Kip. "These things are supposed to be really rare. It's why it seemed such a good present. And it's old, too. We know how much you guys like things from the ancient empires."

Kippy's interest rose a notch at that. "It's from the early empires? Well, yeah, that would make it pretty interesting." He nodded. "Okay. I'll help you guys teleport it to the living room, and put it by the tree."

Casper and Browbeat exchanged looks of delight. "That would make it easier," Browbeat confessed. "I had this awful premonition of it falling over on the steps and just sort of bumping it's way down to the next floor."

Kippy leaned forward to examine the gravity manipulator that Casper was using, and shook his head. "Probably wouldn't have happened.That's a Merkotian unit, isn't it? They're pretty darn good at what they do."

"It's part of the present, too," Casper said, grinning. "We thought you'd need it to move the statue to where you wanted to keep it."

"It's a statue?" Kippy's eyes returned to the larger crate, a new level of interest apparent.

Browbeat sighed. "Now you've done it, Casper!"

The small alien looked contrite. "Oops."

Kippy laughed. "It's okay. I still have no idea of what it's a statue of." He smiled at that. "I'm intrigued, and I think you guys may have selected a gift that we'll all really like." He nodded, and stepped forward. "Let's go."

They gathered into a group around the crate, and Kippy teleported them to the living room.

Charlie, Rick, and Adrian were already there. Adrian was floating in the air, holding his exploded fruit salad up near the top of the tree.

"How does it look?"

"Like lunch," Rick said, grinning. "Which reminds me..."

"You're hungry," Adrian filled in. "We know!"

The three turned as Kip and the others materialized nearby. "There you are," Charlie said to his boyfriend, smiling. "I wondered where you went." He saw Browbeat, but apparently had simply accepted that as normal. But now he spied Casper, and of course, the crate. "Hi, Casper! What's that with you?"

Kippy grinned. "The guys were just delivering their Christmas present to us."

As if timed, the crate once again emitted a strange moan, and shifted sideways. Charlie's eyes grew wide. "It's something alive?"

Browbeat and Casper exchanged puzzled glances. "It's not supposed to be," Casper said. "It's just a statue."

"Just a statue doesn't move on its own!" Rick said. He came closer. "What is it a statue of?"

"Telling would spoil the surprise," Casper complained. Browbeat nodded his small head vigorously. "Yeah."

Charlie shook his own head. "I'm sorry. But we can't release something that may be more than it seems into our house."

The two small aliens now shared looks of defeat. "Okay," Casper said. "It's a Zabollah Motrica."

Rick grinned. "Of course it is, And what, I have to ask, is that?"

Browbeat's small face knotted in concentration. "The Motricans were a martial race of the early empires, 23,000 years ago. There was a class of them that hired out as mercenaries, and were especially good in combat situations."

Charlie nodded. "Those old empires had their share of conflicts, too."

The flyer nodded. "Uh huh. Even advanced technology apparently can't solve everyone's problems. Anyway, when one of the Zabollah's was killed in battle,.a statue was cast of them and placed in the Hall of Remembrance on Motrica. There were thousands of them, too."

"But it's supposed to be rare," Kip reminded.

"It is," Casper explained. "Motrica, itself, was eventually destroyed in battle. The whole planet. And in 23,000 years, only a few of these statues have shown up. Rampree said it was the first one he'd seen in a long time."

"It seemed like a great gift," Browbeat added. "Rare, and exotic."

Charlie nodded. "It sounds like a great gift. But there seems to be more to it than Rampree explained. We'll need to know what's happening before we open that crate."

"Maybe Frankie would know?" Kip suggested.

"There's an idea," Charlie agreed.

While Lugh was in charge of the house, he was an ancient Irish spirit, and even their communications with him were hazy. Kip had formed a bond with him, and was best at talking with him. But Lugh, as competent as he seemed to be, was not up on modern matters at all. They had found the need to install an AI presence in the house, one that was current and could handle topics of more than Earthly tradition.

Kip had named the AI Frankie, ostensibly after a puppy he'd had as a kid...but Charlie seemed to remember a boy named Frankie in fifth grade with blond hair and blue eyes that Kip had been fond of, and suspected that his boyfriend was splitting some memories on that one.

It didn't matter. "Frankie?" Charlie asked, turning by habit to stare at the ceiling, as if the AI was floating there somehow, watching. "You've been listening?"

"Yes, Charlie. A most intriguing situation, it seems."

Once again, the crate moaned and shifted position. Charlie and the others took automatic steps back away from it, and Charlie sighed, this time not taking his eyes off the crate. "So it would seem. What can you tell us about this?"

"Firstly, something needs to be made clear. Browbeat, when Rampree sold you this object, did he say is was a Zabollah, or a Zubullah?"

The little flyer winged over to land on Charlie's shoulder. "Didn't you just say the same thing twice?"

"No. Listen carefully. The first is a Zuh-boll-uh. The second is a Zoo-bull-ah. An unfortunate similarity in alien wording, but also two distinct topics."

Browbeat turned his head to look at Casper. "I don't know. Do you?"

Casper rotated his conical head, his version of shaking it. "No. I didn't know there were two different things that sounded the same."

"We didn't know," Browbeat repeated, sounding mystified. "And Rampree didn't explain."

"The man's a pirate, but he probably just thought you understood the difference," Kippy decided. "The rules of Engris are pretty clear. So, I don't think he was putting anything over on you. He just figured you knew."

"Well, we didn't," Browbeat complained. "I am hardly an expert on ancient Motrican statues."

"Who is, these days?" Adrian wondered aloud.

"No one, really," Frankie confirmed, "Though a lot is known about them, nonetheless."

"What's the difference between the two?" Rick asked. "Is it important?"

"Very much so," Frankie confirmed. "It will determine whether you want this artifact in your home or not."

"What do you know?" Charlie asked, feeling yet another sense of getting in over their heads too early in a game settling over him. He sighed. "It's too close to the holiday for a long, drawn out adventure. We have people coming for Christmas Eve tonight, and tomorrow for the day."

"If we can determine this statue is what I think it is, you can make a decision quickly."

"If you know the difference, just tell us," Kippy said, sounding a little annoyed himself.

"Right. The Zabollah are simply statues of dead warriors, created as memorials and placed in a hall to be remembered for their contributions. A such, they are quite rare, the planet and the hall both having been destroyed 230 centuries ago."

"And these, um, Zubullah?"

"Some part of the Motrica, like so many of the ancient empire races, were power users, Charlie. Skiwsh users. Some of them, when killed, well, refused to just go away."

Kippy's eyes grew wide, and he turned to look at the crate. "You mean this statue could be haunted?"

Rick laughed. "Where was this guy at Halloween?"

"Busy, like we were," Charlie said absently. "Can you add any details, Frankie?"

"Yes. Instead of being shunted over to the lower layer at death, some of these power users managed to hang some part of themselves on their memorials. They exist in both places, the lower level, and in our own universe."

"Haunted," Kippy repeated. "Just wonderful!"

"We didn't know!" Casper said, sounding upset now.

Kippy pouted, and moved to put an arm around the little alien. "Of course you didn't, sweetheart. You were giving a gift. You can't be faulted for that."

Casper smiled up at him, looking relieved; but then his gaze returned to the crate. "So, what do we do with it now?"

"You have to understand that this is not a haunting in the traditional sense," Frankie explained. "The spirit of the departed warrior cannot leave the statue and enter the house. Not that Lugh would stand for that, anyway. But accounts do suggest that the statue can move itself around a limited area, and that the presence within has access to the skwish powers it had in life. Depending on what those were, the statue might be troublesome for you, depending entirely on the personality of the warrior contained within."

"And just how do we determine that?" Kippy demanded.

"Well, you would have to open the crate and talk to the zubullah."

Rick sighed. "I don't speak any ancient Motrican. Not today, anyway."

"I can translate easily enough," The AI told them. "The language has survived in records, even if the people themselves are gone."

"What were these Motricans like?" Charlie asked pointedly. "I am not inclined to loose a belligerent entity into our home."

"Motrica was an advanced culture, Charlie, They were hardly barbarians."

Charlie snorted at that. "The Belltracians were an advanced empire culture, too, and they were not exactly friendly. I wouldn't want one of them living here!"

"The records indicate that the Motrican warrior class held a sense of honor even higher than that of the average population. The Motricans were a very orderly society. It can be argued that this order and sense of honor are what got them all killed off in the end. Some of the other cultures of those times, as you say, were less than honorable in their methods."

"You mean they were stinkers, like the Belltracians," Kippy said distastefully.

"Pretty much," Frankie acknowledged.

"You have an opinion on this?" Charlie asked the AI.

"Well...since you asked, yes. I would open the crate and speak with the spirit, if there is one there. It's still possible that this is just a Zabollah, and something else is going on. Maybe with the gravity manipulator, though my readings on it show it to be in working order at this moment, anyway."

"I never heard a gravity manipulator groan before," Rick supplied. "First time for everything, I guess."

"My feeling is that you may have a genuine Zubullah here," Franked went on. "As such, it would be extremely rare, and a tragedy if it could not be conserved somehow. I can think of no better place for such an entity to find a home than here, providing that all parties consent to the matter."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Charlie decided. "Though this fellow would have to prove himself safe, before we would even consider allowing him or her to remain here."

"Naturally. But we cannot know without speaking to the entity inhabiting the statue."

Charlie frowned at that. "What sort of power users were these Motricans? Max and the elves showed they were better at skwish than the Belltracians, but I'm leery of loosing a super-powerful skwish user in our house."

"Accounts indicate a moderate level of ability among the warrior class, almost certainly not as able as your own. I think the elves would be more than up to handling one of them, even on his day off."

Charlie laughed at the implied joke. "So, if we got Max here, we'd probably be able to handle anything that happened?"

"I would say so, definitely."

Kippy's eyes brightened. "Sounds like we are almost to a plan."

Charlie nodded. "Maybe. It's really easy to get in touch with Max, too, now that we have the workshop in our own cellar."

Browbeat looked from face to face, and then smiled at Casper. "These guys are so much fun!"

Max stared at the crate, interest written all over his features. "I'd say you got one of them spirit types here, definitely, Charlie. I can feel the skwish there."

"That settles it," Adrian said, with finality. "Do we open it?"

Charlie looked around the living room. "Is this the best place to do that?"

"Probably don't matter where you do it." Max decided. He smiled at the pretty Christmas tree, with Adrian's fruit salad now glowingly in residence at the top. "Cool Christmas ornament up there. Where did you get that?"

Adrian smiled. "It's a Pisteneli symbol for peace and fulfillment." He leaned closer to the elf and lowered his voice. "And fertility, but don't tell anyone."

Max raised a hand and crossed his heart. "Safe with me." He grinned. "I'm used to the stuff you guys like by now."

"I thought that fruit salad was going on the tree in the parlor?" Kippy said, suddenly realizing the change.

Adrian shook his head. "Nah. I put the one you liked on that tree. I figured this one would look just as good in here."

Kippy pouted a moment at the notion he'd been pacified, and then shook his head and pointed at the crate "Are we doing this?"

Charlie put an arm around his boyfriend. "Relax, Kip."

"We have other things to do, is all," Kippy explained. "It's almost Christmas!"

"And it will still come, no matter what we do," Charlie explained. "I'd much rather see the holiday arrive with you smiling, instead of frowning like an old bear."

Kippy actually laughed at that. "Oh. An old bear, huh? I didn't mean to be a party-pooper."

"You're not. Just don't be so serious. I think, with Max here, we have a good handle on this."

"You'd be okay without me, I think," the elf said then. "The level of skwish I'm sensing from within the crate is less than your own. These guys were probably competent users, but they weren't anything special."

Rick waved a hand at the crate. "If they were any good, couldn't this guy leave that crate on his own?"

Max shook his head. "There's something skwish insulating about the plastics this crate is made from. Enough to contain a small talent for teleporting, anyway. I'd say the groan and the movement of the crate you saw were attempts by this guy to get out. Not by teleporting, of course, because it can't see where it is. Just good old-fashioned frustration of some sort."

Kippy pouted at that. "You mean he's a prisoner? I wouldn't like that, either!"

Max grinned. "Then open the crate."

Charlie turned to Casper. "Was there anything that Rampree gave you to use to do that?"

The small alien looked surprised; but then he started patting the pockets of his clothing. "Now that you mention it, there was...here it is." Casper produced a small, flat device with controls on it, which he held up to Charlie. "He said to push the red button, then the blue one, to open the crate."

Charlie took the device, which looked like a junior version of a TV remote control, and examined it. There were a fair number of controls and readouts in an alien language on it, but the red and blue buttons were the largest, and circled by raised rims to keep the buttons from being pushed by accident in someone's clothing.

"Seems straightforward enough." He smiled at Max. "You sure it's okay?"

"I actually feel good about this, Charlie. Go ahead."

Charlie let loose a deep breath, and nodded. He pushed the red button, held it a moment, then repeated the process with the blue button. The crate sighed in what was almost a contented manner; then it split, withdrew, and collapsed upon itself, swiftly attaining the size of a shoe box.

Ricky laughed. "Ain't galactic tech wunnerful?"

It was an appreciable reduction in size, and Charlie could imagine sizable crates easily stored on a shelf somewhere until needed. His gaze came up then and he blinked in surprise at the statue of the Motrican warrior.

It hardly looked like a warrior. Charlie had imagined a fairly ugly creature, muscular in nature, and bedecked with baubles and weapons. The alien was bigger than they were, easily a half-meter taller, broader, and there was an indication of flowing musculature beneath the clothing it wore.

But this fellow hardly looked like a polished killer. His clothing was modest, a one-piece sky-blue outfit that dropped into a pair of highly-polished boots at the base. The form was bipedal, two-legged, two-armed, one head. The brownish arms and hands looked surprisingly like their human kin, another indication that nature had a plan for intelligent use she seldom varied far from.

The head was quite a different cast from human, though. The Motrican had two eyes, one nose, and one mouth. The mouth was broad, toothy, but looked as much capable of a nice smile as a fearsome frown. The nose was hawkish, long and pointy. The eyes were large, dark, and penetrating. The head was covered with dense fur, golden in color, streaked with brown. The two ears were tall and narrow, reminding him of a donkey, maybe. And it was certainly the most lifelike statue Charlie had ever seen!

Especially once the eyes opened.

That penetrating gaze moved among them, finally returning to Charlie and Max. A stream of unintelligible sounds suddenly issued from the toothy mouth. The language at first sounded harsh, but as the sentence progressed, it settled into a flow that Charlie found to his liking.

"He asks where he is."

Charlie licked his lips, and nodded, "You're in our home. You were brought here as a gift."

The eyes narrowed, and more of the alien language issued forth. "I am a person, not to be bought or sold," Frankie translated.

"We understand that now. Your nature was not understood when these two youngsters purchased you. It was thought you were a Zabollah. No one knew you were a Zubullah."

The alien's gaze softened a degree. "Perhaps an honest mistake, especially for aliens."

"Yes. You were purchased on Engris, the dark world. You are free to leave, if you wish. We can return you there, if you like."

The alien statue seemed to mull this over a moment. "I have nowhere to go. My world is no more. My people are no more. I have spent my time of late in museums and grave sights, to no profit to me."

Charlie smiled. "You may also stay here. We would love to have your company. But the choice is yours."

"You are using an artificial mind to translate. I have a considerable facility for languages. Teach me yours. I can assimilate it quickly."

"What about that, Frankie?" Kippy asked.

"Oh, I can easily forward the English language to him. It will depend on how quickly he can absorb it."

"Let us proceed, then," the statue returned. "You will find me a rapid learner."

There was a moment of silence then, and Charlie assumed there was some sort of broadcast happening between Frankie and their guest.

In a moment the toothy mouth opened, and the tip of a large tongue protruded for just a second. "Actually, a rather elegant tongue for once. You'd be surprised at how harsh some of the galactic tongues were in my time."

Charlie was delighted. "Oh, that worked out well. You are an incredibly fast earner!"

"Memory enhancements, built in," the statue explained. "My people never knew which of us would remain as a Zubullah. All of the memorial statues were so equipped for the afterlife."

Charlie marveled at the idea, and could see his friends considering the totally alien idea, too. "That's, well, fascinating," was all Charlie could say.

"I am intrigued by you, as well. I sense that you are power users, and quite efficient ones." The head turned slightly. "This place is simply rife with...you call it skwish?"

"Yes," Kippy answered, smiling. "We sense it in you, too."

"Some of us had it to varying degrees." The head managed a rather pleasant smile. "Let me introduce myself: I am Garaval du Endragon, historian to the warriors of Motrica."

Charlie's surprise was complete. A scholar, and an historian! What might this fellow know of the ancient empires? What knowledge could he share?

"We'd love to have you, if you'd like to stay," he said. "I have a feeling we'd have a lot to talk about. Your knowledge of the past would fascinate us." He grinned then. "And we have friends that specialize in seeking out the secrets of the past. I think Pacha'ka would die just to talk to you!"

"We know you can teleport," Rick said. "Are you otherwise mobile?"

The alien's smile diminished. "The statue is equipped for mobility. The legs can walk, the hands manipulate. There is centralized balance control. However, my own control does not seem to extend that far. The most I can do is wobble back and forth a little."

"Probably the movement we heard within the crate," Ricky suggested.

"It was. I was trying to see if I could open my enclosure. That, obviously, didn't work to my advantage."

Max spoke up then. "I think that's something we might be able to help you with." He turned his smile on Charlie. "Making his legs and arms work, I mean. It's a skwish thing."

"Then I believe I would be happy to stay with you," Garaval said, the smile returning. "I believe the fascination would be mutual. This place - it has a motivating intelligence of its own, beyond the artificial mind, I see -"

"That would be Lugh," Kippy chipped in.

The head turned back to Charlie. "And you wear upon your chest a medallion containing yet another intelligence..."

"That would be Castor," Charlie supplied. He felt a warm glow upon his chest then, an acknowledgement by the life form from the island of Mnidoo Mnis that he was listening to the exchange.

"All fascinating. I think I could easily find a place here, far superior to the museums and mausoleums i have been inhabiting for thousands of years." The head leaned forward. "Providing it is understood that I am not property, and not a prisoner."

Charlie nodded. "You are free to leave at any time, and we will help you get where you'd like to go."

"But not today," Garaval returned. "I can teleport around your home, once I see the extent of it. So there will be no burden upon you for my movement."

Kippy sighed happily, and smiled at Charlie. "New recruit?"

"Certainly," Adrian said. "Was there ever any doubt, Charlie?"

"Not really," Charlie admitted. "The man is utterly convincing." He smiled at Garaval. "You are welcome here."

Kippy turned to Browbeat and Casper, and motioned for them to come to him. Browbeat quickly settled on his shoulder, and Casper wore a look of delight as he was hugged. "You two are wonderful," Kippy told them. He turned his head and nuzzled Browbeat. "This is the nicest gift, both for us and for Garaval. Sometimes, the universe smiles, and everyone gets something good."

"You'll probably like it here," Ricky told Garaval. "We have a business investigating odd things, most of them skwish-related. You'd be welcome to assist with that. And we have a couple of starships based on Engris for exploration, and for investigating things beyond our own world."

"And I'll look into helping you get that statue more mobile," Max said, nodding.

The alien emitted a pleased sound. "It all sounds too good to be true."

Charlie grinned. "You arrived as part of a holiday celebration here. We call it Christmas. It's when we all share gifts of love and friendship with the people we know. It's a time of giving, and appreciation for others. We'd be pleased to share that with you, too."

"My people have a similar tradition, called Astacia. During that time, even some campaigns are halted, and peace reigns." The smile returned. "So, I was to be a gift of affection for you, from these two small ones? I rather like that idea."

"We thought you were really cool when we just thought you were a statue, and that the guys would like you!" Browbeat exclaimed, following with a happy titter. "It's even better that you're a person, and it worked out for you, too!"

"Yeah, we didn't know you were a person, or we wouldn't have bought you," Casper explained. "We don't buy people here, either."

"Yet it worked out well," Garaval considered. "I am pleased with the results, anyway."

"Why don't we go into the parlor?" Kippy said. He smiled at their new friend. "You may as well start exploring the house, so that you can get around."

"How much do you weigh?" Ricky asked.

"Uh...I think the proper conversion would be around a hundred-twenty kilos?"

Ricky nodded. "I think we can manage that, all working together. What do you say, fellows?"

"I can just float him in there," Max volunteered. "So can some of you guys. You have to learn to think skwish first!"

Kippy waved a hand, and Garaval floated up from the floor. "Let's go!"

As they moved to the parlor, Charlie positioned himself next to his boyfriend and leaned up against him. "Cool addition to our group, and it's not even Christmas day yet."

Kippy nodded. "It's what I expect from being in your orbit, Charlie. Another wonder." He turned his head and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Charlie."

"Merry Christmas, Kip. Another great year, just being with you."

"Oh, Charlie. That's so sweet."

Charlie sighed contentedly. "Now I have to wonder, what will the new year bring?"

"More nice things, I'm sure. More wonder." Kippy sighed. "And some not so nice things, I'm sure, too. But we'll deal with them. We always do."

Charlie nodded. "The universe sure is a fascinating place."

They arrived in the parlor and Kippy set Garaval down by the tree. He smiled at Charlie. "It's a wonderful place to be, Charlie, as long as I'm with you."

Charlie grinned. "You say some pretty sweet things, too." He put an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders and gave him a fond squeeze. "Later, I'll show you some wonder."

Kippy's eyes beamed. "I can hardly wait!"

Max, standing nearby and unable not to hear the exchange, briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. "Aw, geez!" he said softly, mostly to himself. "Love is in the air...again!"

We support Ukraine — Мы поддерживаем Украину — Ми підтримуємо Україну

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Charlie Boone

by Geron Kees

It's Just a Christmas Surprise, Charlie Boone!