Wise Owls of Mars

1

The Owl Club hadn’t changed.

It was (literally) an underground club, three blocks from the main gate of UM. Nothing about the joint was illegal, based on any law passed by the corrupt Board of Supervisors, though some of the acts performed and/or committed on site might’ve been. It was intended to be a private establishment, only for those who knew of its existence.

The source of the place’s name was a subject for debate. Some people said it was because the atmosphere appealed to night owls; others claimed it referred to a sample of taxidermy displayed behind the bar-- a genuine stuffed barn owl, donated by a former employee-- though that piece of art was placed there after the club opened. The most likely explanation involved honoring the Great Owl, a local political (and semi-religious) figure whose identity remained unknown otherwise.

The club was in a subbasement three floors below. At the street-level restaurant, Percy crossed to the unmarked door that was neither the restroom nor kitchen, and stepped into a cramped elevator that took him down to that dimly-lit paradise.

It was decorated with relics (besides the barn owl) and reeked of stale beer (and worse) and the sanitizer trying to mask it. The place served not only the student body of the nearby college but gladly welcomed all persuasions, nationalities, and species. That was part of its appeal, along with cheap drinks, an old pool table, and a cocoon-like feeling of warmth and inclusion.

Stepping off the elevator, Percy decided he really missed the place.

***

The Owl Club was one of the few such businesses that allowed in members of the indigenous population.

They were known as the Lep; though Percy preferred the name they called themselves, which was FueFaaDae in their tongue-- or Tribe of the Moon Goddess. The Lep were basically small humanoids, the tallest of which reached a meter in height. As reported by one of the original settlers, they resembled “lemurs with lips”-- a phrase that was likely the source of their name, which was not (as claimed) a short form of Leprechaun.

He was a Lep Lover-- an intended insult he wore as a badge of honor. He was also one of the few human residents fluent in the language of the Lep. That fact made him a translator whose services were in demand, once he decided to pursue that profession. If there was a dispute involving an Arabic-speaking merchant and a Spanish-speaking client, they could call in any number of interpreters to resolve it; but if the issue concerned a member of the Lep, then Percy Lomax was the one summoned.

At the front of the club, he ran into another Lep Lover serving as bouncer for the place. Bo Borden was two meters tall and nearly that big around, relying on his size alone to quell any potential trouble. As usual, a Lep was perched on Bo’s broad shoulder, which was considered a prime spot to view the world. She was a young female whom Percy knew well, named FaeJaaFue, or Beauty of the Moonlight.

“Hey, Percy,” Bo said, giving him a bone-rattling half-hug. “How the hell are ya?”

“Good.”

During that exchange, FaeJaaFue moved effortlessly from Bo’s shoulder to Percy’s, as if to have a closer look at him. She was aptly named, with her pale face and the large eyes common to her species. She gently stroked his cheek.

“FaeTeeUh.” You look beautiful.

She responded with a series of hisses that served as Lep laughter. “FaeTeeUh,” she replied in kind. “BeeGae’BeeGae?” Kisses?

The original settlers were surprised that the Lep, whose lips were a prominent feature, did not engage in kissing. When the Lep observed humans doing so, and it was explained that this was an expression of affection, they took to it with passion-- amongst each other and with selected human neighbors. After a few awkward encounters, they also learned to ask if someone wanted to be kissed; and most people understood that the expression BeeGae-- literally “mouth love”-- indicated such a request.

“Ueb.” And he puckered up. Yes.

She planted a solid kiss on his mouth, which was followed by more hissing laughter.

“You shoulda called, so we could have your booth ready,” Bo said, as FaeJaaFue resumed her perch on his shoulder. He waved at one of the waitresses, whom Percy also recalled. “Hey, Kish, ask the people in Percy’s Spot if they’re leavin’ soon.”

The waitress named Kish gave Percy a wink and went to handle that errand. He would’ve happily sat anywhere; but the corner booth was where he’d been a fixture. They even had a sign on the wall identifying it as Percy’s Spot, he noticed.

“So, you still in school?”

“Yeah, but I’m almost done,” Bo replied. “I’m this close to those last credits, man.”

He held his thick thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart; and FaeJaaFue mimicked that same gesture with her tiny hand, which made Percy laugh. Everybody suspected Bo had extended his education by only taking one class each semester to keep his job at the club, from which he made a living and derived a great deal of enjoyment.

Before Percy went to his seat, he made a quick tour of the place to see if any of the other regulars were around, while Kish made sure nobody occupied the corner booth. He paused wherever he saw a familiar face and exchanged a few necessary pleasantries. One table was occupied by a half-dozen Lep, most of whom he knew. They made use of the booster seats the bar kept for that purpose, though the shorter ones still had to stand on them to reach the tabletop.

As a rule, the Lep didn’t consume alcohol, because the few who’d tried it got very sick. They preferred the fruit juices used for mixers. Most of them still didn’t use money of any kind, since their culture relied on a strict barter system. In exchange for their drinks, they would gladly stay after closing and help clean up. The management didn’t mind; the Lep usually only drank a shot-glass of juice apiece, and having them there was a part of the club’s unique atmosphere.

They called him PuhEhrSee, which was as close to his given name as they could come using their syllabic alphabet. It translated as Get Up and Learn, which was fine with him. The two sitting on the outside requested kisses; which he provided, though one of them was male-- a circumstance he’d learned to live with.

After making it all the way to the antique pinball machine in the corner, which lit up but no longer functioned, he finally started towards his booth. At the bar, he paused and placed his hand on the back of a pretty brunette wearing a floor-length leather coat, which caused her to react with a shiver. He also traded a look with a short-haired blonde in a grey ensemble on the opposite side.

“I hope you two haven’t been boozing the whole time you waited.”

“No,” she replied. “Many drinks were offered, by men, women, and Lep. And we turned ‘em all down.”

“Very admirable.”

“We learned from the master, PuhEhrSee,” she replied, mocking.

He returned to his table then, where he slipped the waitress Kish a bronze coin representing ten Bones in the accepted currency-- so named because of the Bank of New Earth stamped on every form.

“Thanks, K. Please ask Bo to send my guest this way when he gets here.”

“Guest?” she asked. “What’s he look like?”

“He’ll be the guy who obviously doesn’t belong.”

2

Burl Banister, of the Board of Supervisors, stood out from the crowd.

He was better dressed at least, in a tailored grey suit. He walked into the bar liked he owned it but wanted little to do with it. He wasn’t alone, just as Percy expected. A behemoth in a red jacket, not quite as tall as Bo Borden, entered a few minutes ahead of Banister and cased the place, as if checking for any fellow thugs or potential scandals. The joint must’ve passed muster, because he went back to the front door and escorted his boss straight to Percy’s table.

Percy offered his hand. “Mr. Banister. Nice to see you again.”

Banister nodded, maintaining his cool. “Mr. Lomax,” he replied. “I scheduled this meeting with the Great Owl.”

“He doesn’t appear in public, if he can help it. But I’m authorized to speak for him on all preliminary matters.”

“I see,” Banister replied. “And you couldn’t find anyplace. . .less conspicuous?”

“Let’s say I was hoping for home-field advantage, since this is one of my old hangouts. Would you like to sit?”

“In a minute,” Banister replied, giving the club a look. “I was told your boss might tend to be favorably inclined if presented with a gift. If you can be trusted to make sure he gets it.”

“Certainly.”

Banister turned to the door and gave his behemoth in the red jacket a sign. The behemoth went out to retrieve the item in question then came right back in again, acting as escort once more.

That Gift was a true dark-haired beauty in her twenties. Based on past history, Percy wasn’t too surprised; others had presented similar offerings to the Great Owl, but this girl seemed far too wholesome for that. She looked like she might’ve been the daughter of one of Banister’s constituents who was paying off a political favor, though he knew for a fact she was fresh off the latest transport from Earth.

Her face was a collection of what might’ve been described as flaws-- sapphire-blue eyes set close together, a narrow nose, slightly wide jaws-- which when viewed as a whole was undeniably pleasing to his eye.

She sat down in the booth and scooted close to the wall, so Banister could sit beside her. She smiled across the table at Percy, showing off nearly perfect teeth, which made him believe she had no idea what her role was intended to be after that meeting was over.

“How about a little refreshment? Is beer to everybody’s liking?”

Banister merely shrugged. “Do they have any Earth brands?” the Gift said.

“They do. But I prefer the local brew.”

He caught the eye of the waitress Kish and signaled an order for a pitcher of the house specialty and three glasses, hoping they still used the same hand signs. Kish signaled back, at least, so that message had apparently been received.

“So, what’s your name?”

She stared down at the tabletop. “Baby.”

He liked the sound of that, and he already knew about her history. Kish arrived with their order and expertly poured three glasses, leaving the right amount of foam on top. That brand was known as Leapin’ Lizards, made from indigenous plants cultivated by the Lep and traded in the downtown markets. It had a rich amber color, as well as a spicy kick.

“Whoa,” Baby reacted, after a sip. “That’ll put starch in your collar.”

Percy had never heard that one. “It’s good, huh?”

Banister didn’t touch his glass. “Can we get to business now?” he said. “If there are no more interruptions. . .”

Such was not the case. Because there was a sudden loud cry from near the front, which Percy recognized as the sound of a Lep in distress. That was a routine hazard in an establishment that welcomed both species-- a newcomer might have too much to drink and accidentally step on one of the smaller patrons. The regulars had learned to be careful, and the Lep themselves were generally agile enough to avoid clumsy human feet, but it still happened from time to time.

Bo scooped up the victim and immediately brought her to Percy’s booth, if only because he could translate. Despite being a devoted Lep Lover, Bo spoke and understood very little of their language. Percy was sorry to see that it was little FaeJaaFue, who must’ve left her perch on Bo’s shoulder, who got the worst of the encounter. She was obviously in pain, so Bo sat her on the tabletop. Percy moved his beer aside to have a look.

“AechThoe?” What happened?

Her large eyes leaked large tears. “BieNue, BieNue!” she replied. “ZoeEev’BueIhj’Ihth Buh LaaEhk.” My foot hurts! It was stepped on by a tall person in a red jacket.

He should’ve known it was Banister’s behemoth who’d done it. He asked her if he could see the damage, and she said yes; so he carefully removed her tiny shoe. It looked like a doll’s shoe, which might’ve been the case. Early Lep Lovers had imported apparel for dolls from Earth, including shoes, to be donated or traded to their new neighbors, who wrapped their feet in coarse cloth otherwise.

FaeJaaFue’s foot was small and pale, with five slender toes of an even length, one of which was inflamed. When he touched it, she reacted with a sustained hiss that indicated pain. It didn’t appear to be broken, though. Lep bones were somewhat spongy, which made them resilient concerning such minor injuries.

“OebTee’DahEhdCheeUhj,” she muttered.

“Let me guess,” Banister responded. “She’s cursin’ our entire race for conquerin’ her kind and causin’ all their problems.”

Percy gave him a look. “At the moment, her complaint is about our gender. Something about how males aren’t smart enough to watch where they’re going.”

Baby laughed out loud; then covered her mouth when Banister shot her a disapproving glance.

“Hey, Kish, do you still have any of that numbing spray in the first-aid kit?”

“I’ll check,” Kish replied, heading for the bar.

“Listen, if this is gonna take a while,” Banister said, irritated, “maybe we should reschedule this meeting.”

“If you can’t spare a minute for somebody in pain, maybe we should just cancel it altogether.”

Banister offered no response. Like any good politician, he seemed to be considering his rebuttal. Luckily, Kish arrived with the canister he’d asked for and handed it to Percy. He told FaeJaaFue to cover her eyes, then he carefully sprayed her wound. She hissed again.

“OedAej!” she said. “EebAhdAeg. . .” Too cold! But then warm. . .

“UenIefUet?” Feel better?

“Ueb,” she replied, flexing her toes. Yes.

He handed the canister back to Kish. “Thanks. Could you please ask Bo to bring that guy in the red jacket over here, please?”

“You got it,” Kish replied.

Bo was more than happy to escort the behemoth to their booth, in a manner indicating he would be wise not to resist. The young hulk stood there, looking a bit more than merely irritated.

“Buddy, I think you stepped on our little friend here.”

The behemoth shrugged. “Guess I didn’t see it.”

“Her name is FaeJaaFue, which means Beauty of the Moonlight. And I’m glad to hear it was an accident. Otherwise, Bo here would probably take you out back and break your legs, since he’s such a Lep Lover. So, I think if you apologized, we can put the matter to rest.”

The behemoth shifted his weight. “I don’t speak no Lep.”

“That’s okay. I can translate for you.”

The behemoth appeared to blush, turning a shade lighter than his jacket. He stared right at Banister as he spoke.

“Sorry I stepped on your paw,” he replied, barely audible.

Percy repeated those words to FaeJaaFue in Lep, substituting Bie (foot) for the less accurate paw. She looked at him, then the behemoth, taking a few deep breaths.

“IegGoo’FaaPuh,” she said, closing her eyes. These words the Goddess receives, which was a Lep version of accepting an apology, amongst other things.

“All is forgiven, good. Why don’t we celebrate with a few drinks? K, please get our buddy here a beer, and I know FaeJaaFue could use some cider. On my tab.”

“Comin’ right up,” Kish replied.

The behemoth headed for the bar, looking none too pleased; and the small crowd of other patrons watching that drama dispersed.

“Do you really think that was the best way to handle things?” Banister asked.

“Why not? The party at fault admitted his mistake, and the party who was wronged acknowledged it. Seems right to me.”

“Well, I doubt he’ll see it that way,” Banister said. “All he’ll remember is that you humiliated him by makin’ him apologize to a monkey.”

FaaJaaFue stiffened. Her knowledge of their language likely amounted to a few simple phrases, but she obviously recognized that slur. She looked at Percy.

“ChuhUh’Ih?” she asked. Is he a friend of yours?

“OebChuh, OebChue.” Not a friend, not an enemy-- a Lep phrase identifying an acquaintance or stranger.

“So, if you’re done playin’ vet,” Banister said, “I’d like to get to business.”

Percy cleared his throat. “I’m listening.”

3

“I’m afraid the interests I represent have a demand,” he said.

“Well, my boss doesn’t respond to demands. He’s happy to entertain suggestions, as long as they coincide with his agenda.”

“Agenda?” Banister said. “Which is?”

“Whatever’s best for the common good.”

“Very noble,” Banister said, “but naïve. Surely he knows the world doesn’t work that way.”

“What world? This isn’t Earth. It’s still developing, without any of the traditions from human history which should be avoided.”

“Such as?”

“The obvious. War, corruption, intolerance. The vices that infect every generation.”

Banister grinned. “You mean mankind’s greatest hits?” he said. “There’s always a price for progress, my boy. Those vices have earned somebody a handsome profit, so they’re bound to continue no matter what we do.”

“On Earth, maybe. We should aspire to be better, don’t you think?”

“That sounds dangerously close to treason. . .”

“Against who? Nobody on Earth has any claim on this planet. By charter and declaration, it’s to be governed as its citizens see fit.”

“‘For the glory of God and honor of our Betters’,” Banister recited. “Those words were in the earliest draft of that document, until somebody took offense. That doesn’t change the fact some of us still adhere to those principles. I’m more interested in our future at the moment.”

Percy shrugged. “So, what do these interests you represent have in mind?”

In preparation, Banister finally took a sip from his glass of the house specialty, the flavor of which was obviously not to his liking. Baby, on the other hand, had finished hers and poured a second serving; when she noticed Percy’s glass was half-full, she even topped him off, with another smile. FaeJaaFue, meanwhile, had taken to walking across the tabletop to test out her injured foot, before returning to her shot-glass of cider.

“I’m sure you’ll agree,” Banister said, “that these recent acts of terrorism have to stop.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Banister feigned exasperation. “The Redwine estate,” he replied. “The main house was blown to bits three weeks ago.”

“Right, I head a rumor. I also heard that the Redwine’s youngest son killed a Lep and wasn’t charged or prosecuted.”

“The boy--”

“He’s twenty-two, and a psychopath.”

“The young man shot a trespasser on the estate,” Banister said. “In any case, he couldn’t be charged. In the North District, such laws don’t apply to our Betters.”

Percy held his temper. “And what happens when one of your so-called Betters commits an offense against another one?”

“It rarely happens,” Banister replied. “When it does, the matter’s decided in favor of whoever has the higher status. I can’t imagine living under any other kind of system, can you?”

“In the South District, we don’t have any Betters or Lessers.”

“Blasphemy,” Banister said. He nodded at FaeJaaFue. “Speakin’ of which, this one won’t go repeatin’ what we say and stirrin’ up agitators, will it?”

“I doubt she understands more than a dozen words of English, so probably not. It looks like we put her to sleep, in fact.”

FaeJaaFue had taken a seat on the tabletop to rest her wounded foot; after finishing her cider, her eyelids grew heavy and she started to nod. Percy carefully scooped her up and cradled her in one arm.

Banister shook his head. “Terrorism isn’t the answer,” he said. “The violence, and especially the expense, are just wrong. Am I right?”

“Well, tell the Redwines that one of their Betters blew up their house, as a form of justice for crimes committed.”

“They’ll never believe that,” Banister replied. “But I need to be able to assure my constituents it won’t happen again.”

“If none of them kill any more Lep, then they’re probably safe. Otherwise, I suspect justice will prevail.”

“Just promise to pass on the details of everything we discussed to your boss, okay?”

“I promise.”

“And I can count on your recommendation,” Banister added, “to end the terrorism?”

“That won’t matter. The Great Owl keeps no counsel but his own.”

4

After Banister departed, Percy remained in his favorite booth.

He wanted to soak up as much of The Owl Club as possible, unsure when he might return. He wanted to finish that glass of Leapin’ Lizards, savoring its flavor. And he also had a Lep asleep in his arms whom he didn’t want to disturb. The gift named Baby stayed behind, of course, sitting across from him.

“I’ve never seen a Lep before,” she admitted.

“So, you really are fresh off the boat, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes on FaeJaaFue. “They really are adorable. Everybody I know on Earth would want one.”

He waited for her to realize the glaring error of that comment.

“FaeJaaFue is a member of a wise and ancient race. Not a pet.”

Baby appeared to blush. “Sorry,” she replied, eyes down. “So. . .um. . .who is this Great Owl you were talking about?”

“Our Wise Leader.”

She seemed intrigued. “And what does he do?”

“He’s a counselor, willing to offer advice to any and all who will listen. And he wields his influence in pursuit of high-minded ideals.”

“Like what you said to Banister, about a world without war or greed,” she replied. “That does sound a little naïve, forgive me.”

“Maybe so. But we might as well aim for perfection before we surrender to the inevitable.”

“Who’s we?” she asked. “You and FaeJahFue there?”

He tried not to laugh. “It’s FaeJaaFue. Jaa as in ‘Jack’, not Jah. What you said was Beauty of the Moon Door instead of Beauty of the Moonlight.”

Baby laughed, covering her mouth. “Well, the moon door is particularly beautiful this time of year,” she replied. She held up her glass of the house specialty and clinked it with his.

That sound caused FaeJaaFue to stir in his arms. Her large eyes blinked, and she performed a Lep yawn, in which she covered her mouth with both hands.

Percy gave a sign to the pretty brunette and short-haired blonde in the long leather coats, including a nod towards the door. They were standing at the bar enjoying one last drink, and both nodded back.

“So, that’s who you were talking about,” Baby said, observing that exchange.

“Banister brought an escort, and so did I. Mine just got here earlier and blended in with the crowd.”

They left the booth and headed for the door, with the pair in the long coats following a few steps behind. He was still cradling FaeJaaFue, after making sure she hadn’t forgotten her small shoe.

“UetIefBie?” Does your foot feel better?

“Ueb,” she replied. “NueUhn.” Yes. Less painful.

He paused at the far end of the bar to settle his tab. The total came to twenty Bones, so he gave Kish one of the cobalt-colored coins with a 100 stamped on it.

“Spread the rest between you, Bo, and the bartender.”

“Come back and see us soon,” Kish replied, then gave him a quick kiss on the mouth.

***

Percy should’ve known that they wouldn’t get away without more drama.

In the dimly-lit lot behind the club, the behemoth in the red jacket was waiting. The one free beer he drank must’ve given him enough courage to do something undeniably foolish to avenge whatever humiliation he believed he’d suffered.

“All right, boy, come get what’s comin’ to ya,” the behemoth said. “Take this ass-whippin’ like a man, and maybe I’ll let your little monkey live.”

Percy wasn’t in the mood. He turned to Baby, who stood near his shoulder.

“Get behind me.” He also used one hand to shield FaeJaaFue’s eyes. “TeeOeb.” Don’t look.

The girls in the leather coats split up and approached the behemoth from separate directions. Both of them had taser wands, which telescoped to a meter with a simple flick of the wrist. He tried to step back, as they attacked. He was able to knock one wand aside, but the second one caught him in the ribs. He dropped to his knees, and they hit him with multiple shocks. Until he flopped onto his back and writhed on the mock asphalt.

“He’s had enough. Do you have one of the coins?”

The blonde produced the token in question from her coat pocket. It was small and emblazoned with a cursive O. She carefully inserted it into the hot end of her taser wand, then stood over the prone behemoth and pressed it to his forehead. The coin would burn a permanent (and painful) image into his brow.

A second behemoth in a matching red jacket, possibly the older brother of the hulk on the ground, appeared from around the corner, too late to come to his aid.

“Get away from him!” he said, starting towards them.

“Whoa, buddy. Check your chest.”

The older behemoth instinctively looked down, where two dots of laser light appeared over his heart, courtesy of the guns suddenly drawn by the girls in the leather coats and trained on him. The second behemoth actually tried to brush those dots away.

“Just back away slowly, and nobody else gets hurt. Your friend here’s been marked, which means people will have nothing to do with him, especially in the city. So, he either needs to stay out in the country for the rest of his worthless life or take the next transport to Earth.”

“That ain’t cool,” the older behemoth replied.

“Maybe not. But if I ever see his ugly face again, these two girls will cut his balls off and feed ’em to him. Got it?”

The older behemoth didn’t reply, so Percy assumed that message had been received. He and Baby started to walk away, while the girls in the leather coats remained long enough to be sure they weren’t followed.

Percy exhaled. “Some people are impossible to educate.”

5

On their way, he delivered FaeJaaFue to the corner where the Lep gathered before heading home.

Most of them walked on that brief journey; but they also had a wagon made from an old packing crate and the wheels from a child’s tricycle they’d taken in trade, where the elders rode. That was where Percy gently placed FaeJaaFue, since she was injured and still unable to walk without pain. Before all of the Lep asked for goodbye kisses, he stepped back and bowed deeply, to bid them farewell.

“EhsUeFaaTee.” May the Goddess watch over you, which was their version of goodbye.

Most of the Lep repeated that phrase back to him, including FaeJaaFue. They also made a collective humming sound, like the purring of cats, which indicated positive feelings. He was always pleased beyond measure to hear it. He reluctantly left their presence and rejoined his three companions.

“Can I ask you something?” Baby said, close beside him.

“Nothing’s stopped you yet.”

“Why did you cover the little Lep’s eyes when the big guy got zapped?” she said. “Don’t you think she might’ve enjoyed seeing the person who stepped on her get punished?”

“Maybe. The Lep are basically a nonviolent race, so I didn’t want her to be offended by that display. If she had seen it and enjoyed it, that might’ve stirred up a taste for vengeance in her, which is the last thing I’d want to inflict on anybody.”

“And what was that symbol burned into his forehead?”

“The Mark of the Owl. It shows that he earned the wrath of the great man-- or his agent. He’ll probably be treated as a pariah, at least here in the city.”

She nodded. “You didn’t sound very wrathful,” she said, “until that part about cutting his balls off, at least.”

“Well, I had to get my point across in a way he’d understand.”

“Plus, it’s true,” his brunette escort added.

“Can I ask something else?” she asked. “How did the Lep get here? This was supposed to be a lifeless world, right?”

“Nobody seems to know. According to their beliefs, their deity called the Moon Goddess was responsible. I suspect the same people, or beings, who reliquefied the core and made the planet habitable brought them here. And I believe we’ll be judged on how we treated the Lep when they return.”

Baby gave it some thought. “And what about me now?”

“Well, we should probably cut your head off and send it to Banister, since you’re a spy.”

She reacted. “But,” she stammered, “I’m not a spy. . .”

“Or maybe an assassin, sent to find and kill the Great Owl.”

“I. . .I. . .”

“Your full name is Baby Girl Blue. You’re an orphan, named for your gender and eye color. So, we know when you left Earth, when you arrived at Halfway Station, and the exact minute you set foot here. The Great Owl’s sources are even better than Bannister’s.”

“You wouldn’t really cut my head off, would you?”

“Probably not. But the truth is, the Great Owl’s not really interested in the gifts he’s offered. He only accepts them for my benefit.”

“What’s that mean?” she asked.

He gave her a look. “It means that, spy or not, your ass is mine now.”