“Okay, I think I follow,” Henry said. “You’re using the supply of the anise seed to keep the Grimoxians in check."

"Yes. The Seed became our only means of leverage against the anti-Slatt rebels. The Blarf Warlords are more than willing to use their power and influence to keep the anise trade intact. They're businessmen at heart. Last month, our spies learned that the rebels were planning an attack on the Northern Slatt Outpost. When we threatened to reduce our supply of Seed in the North due to rebel activity, the Warlords promptly attacked the rebel base and slaughtered the dissidents. Just to appease us, and keep the trade going."

"Smart plan," Henry said. "You've got the Warlords doing your dirty work for you. The Slatt Guard doesn't even need to lift a finger."

"Half of the planet is hooked on Angeles Anise," there was pride in Doug's voice. "Through the Evil Seed, the great Intergalactic Territories of Slatt finally gained some leverage against the Grimoxian scum!"

"It is," I admitted. "Appallingly brilliant. So the anise powder that was in your car – you were taking that back to Grimox?"

"I was supposed to board the Romay Cargo Cruiser two hours ago, from the launch site below the Observatory."

I shared a sideways glance with Henry, whose eyebrows shot up. The High Council is supposed to keep us abreast of any regular alien activity in Los Angeles. We knew about the Klargung Tourist Shuttles that fly routes through the San Fernando Valley, and the invisible Orbay Saucers that occasionally float up from below the Pacific. But neither of us knew about a Romay Cruiser launch site in our beloved Griffith Park.

“I can't. I can’t do it anymore --" Doug's voice started to crack. "Watching solid forms lick and snort and copulate…"

"So the anise seed that was in your car," I said, trying to get us back on track. "That was meant to be on the last Romay Cruiser and heading for Grimox right now?"

"This weekend is the holiday feast of Grelope on Grimox," Doug said. "Seventy-five hours of feasting and dancing, in honor of their Fertility God."

"Party time," Henry chuckled. "So the Grimoxians are really going to want their drugs this weekend, huh?"

"I imagine that's why the High Council sent you," Doug said. "They're not concerned about my return. They need to get the Seed to the Warlords on Grimox before the Grelope Festivities get underway. Without an adequate supply of anise powder, there will be chaos in the streets. Although, I must admit, a part of me takes pleasure in the thought of ruining their debauched annual gang-bang for the orgy-God."

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Finally, it all started to make sense. I couldn't understand why the High Council was so concerned about a lowly Agent of Slatt. On numerous occasions, Lord Farkvold and the High Council had shown that they held little regard for individual lives, what with all the beheadings and executions. Doug Dobbins was expendable, a foot soldier, a piece of canon-fodder in the eyes of the High Council.

We weren't hired to get Doug out of jail; we were hired to get the anise seed out of police impound.

Henry and I agreed that we weren't going to deliver Doug Dobbins back to the High Council, as Lord Farkvold had demanded. After all, we're lawyers, not bounty hunters. And as much as I disliked Doug the Argon Gas (my lungs still burned from inhaling him), I wasn't about to send him back to a life of drug trafficking with the Grimoxians, an existence that he so despised.

Henry and I figured that best way to ensure Doug's safety, at least in the short-term, was to keep him locked up in jail. The Intergalactic Council probably wouldn't approve a full-scale assault on Earth to free him – not until at least Monday afternoon.

I told Carmen Perez that we believed Doug was suffering from a psychological break and possibly dangerous, which wasn't exactly a lie. After some convincing, she agreed to keep Doug locked up for the rest of the weekend, under a temporary psychiatric hold.

It was nearly midnight by the time we made it back to my car. As we were backing out of the precinct garage, I noticed that my backup camera was malfunctioning: the display screen on the dashboard flickered with interference and snow. I stupidly hit the screen with my palm, then found myself screaming when I pulled my hand back and saw the hideous face of the Lord High Councilman.

“Earth attorneys!" Lord Farkvold's voice boomed through the car stereo. "I require your attention.”

"Jesus, Councilman!" Henry shrieked. "What the fuck are you doing in Marsh's Prius?"

"Hey, wait a minute," I said, once I had gained my composure. "Why are you calling us like this, and not through our molar-transmitters?"

"Because this is an unofficial call," Lord Farkvold leaned forward, his chitin lips and shark teeth filled the screen. "It's informal."

"You mean you could have contacted us this way the whole time?" Henry said. "You could have just, just called us up like this instead of blaring messages into our craniums?"

"We can discuss communication methods at another time," Farkvold snapped. "I need an immediate status report on Agent Dobbins. Is he in your custody?"

"No, he's not."

"Commander Boardvex has informed me that Agent Dobbins is holding top-secret materials –"

"You don't say?" Henry looked sideways at me and rolled his eyes.

"- Which must also be recovered at once," Farkvold continued. "It is imperative, for the safety of the Slatt Territories. If we do not receive Agent Dobbins and these classified materials tomorrow, I am prepared to authorize military -"

“Oh come on," Henry said, fastening his seatbelt. “Are you really willing to go to war with Earth, just to keep up your anise seed trafficking business on Grimox? From what I hear, Councilman, there's nothing on that planet but Blarf Warlords and insolent dope-addicted perverts."

"I agree," I said to the nightmarish face on my dashboard. "Surely, your Lordship, this can't be worth interplanetary war."

Farkvold was silent for a long time. I wondered if the image on the screen had frozen, maybe the signal had timed-out.

“What did you say," Farkvold spoke slowly. "About...anise seed?"