Faith and the Fighter

by Honey Phillips

“This is very bad, Tribs. It’s only been six months since the aliens came. Now it looks like I’ve had sex with one.”

  Emily had been in her last semester of college when the spaceships arrived. The giant ships became visible simultaneously above New York, London, Moscow, Beijing, Tokyo, Mumbai, Cairo, and São Paulo. Within minutes a broadcast appeared on every television and radio station worldwide. The speaker was tall and slender, wearing a well cut dark suit that only served to accentuate the fact that he was not from Earth. His sharply angled cheekbones and jawline could almost have passed for human, making dark eyes with slit pupils even more alien in contrast. His skin was a shade of silvery grey that no man had ever possessed. Long dark hair was arranged in an elaborate style that didn’t cover the two small horns at either side of his head. His words were translated into the language of each country as he reassured the world that the Yehrin were there to guide the Earth into a true Space Age.

  Reactions had ranged from riots to religious fervor. World leaders broadcast messages of restraint and used troops to enforce the message. The riots subsided as the spaceships withdrew to a higher orbit. When no aggressive actions were taken by the aliens, fear turned to curiosity. The Internet was alive with speculation and rumored sightings, with only the usual vocal minority spouting conspiracy theories. Within days of the first announcement, a small embassy appeared in each nation’s capital. In addition, the existing UN building in New York was topped with a much larger version that floated over the older building with only a slender shaft connecting them. It was rechristened the United Worlds Building and word emerged that they were looking for employees.

  Like the rest of the world, Emily had been glued to the television and the Internet as each development unfolded. Excited about the opportunity, she hadn’t hesitated to apply for a job. After an extensive examination process, she had been hired and as soon as she graduated, she had begun work. Because of her degree in Communications, she was assigned to work with one of the aliens, S'ram, on a series of public messages. Even aliens seemed to recognize the value of good publicity. The latest series had been about the medical improvements the aliens were making. The video of the Leader healing a small girl in Africa had been especially well received.

  Everything had been going so well. She missed her grandmother and the small town where she had grown up but she loved her job, despite the long hours. Communicating good news made her feel happier about the world. She made a few friends, and she and S'ram had become especially close. Like the Leader, he was tall and slender but his long dark hair was simply arranged in two braids. He never mentioned his life before arriving on Earth, but she soon gained the impression that like her, he was fresh out of the Yehrin equivalent of college. At first she had been nervous around him but after he gave her a shy smile and told her to just call him Sam, she relaxed.

  They worked together closely and had such a good relationship that she was always a little startled when he said or did something that reminded her he was Yehrin. He would smile a bit wider than normal and she would notice just how sharp his teeth looked. Or her attention would be caught by his hand, three fingers instead of four and topped with rather pointed black nails. But on the whole, she thought of him as a close friend and found it easy to ignore the fact that he was an alien.

  Now she wondered if she had ever known him at all. Embarrassing as it might be to admit that she had completely blacked out, she had to talk to him. She needed to know what had happened. Had they actually had sex? Unprotected sex? Despite the apparent evidence, she didn’t want to believe it. As close as they were, she had never had any type of sexual interest in him. Notwithstanding his note, a small sickened voice wondered if she had even agreed.

  With shaking hands, she picked up the phone. When he didn’t answer her call to his private number, she almost gave up. Instead, she clenched her teeth and called the main office number, knowing her boss would answer.

  “Hi, Margie.”

  “Emily! Are you feeling any better?” Her boss’s concerned voice only added to Emily’s guilt.

  “Not really,” she admitted. “I just wanted to make sure you got my message. Any issues this morning?”

  “Nothing we can’t handle. The big guys are all thrilled with the medical project.” Big guys was Margie’s pet name for the Yehrin. They were all exceptionally tall.

  “That’s good.” She hesitated and then gathered her courage. “Is Sam in?”

  “Yes. He was here bright and early this morning and in a great mood.”

  I'll bet he was, she thought bitterly. Margie’s observation did nothing to relieve her dreadful suspicions. She had to speak to him.

  “Can you connect me?”

  “Sorry, hon. He’s in a meeting with the rest of the big guys about the next project. It’s scheduled to last until after lunch. Should I tell him to call you then?”

  “Please. There are a few loose ends we need to tie up.”

  “Will do. Now you take some aspirin and go back to bed.”

  Emily thanked her and ended the call. The aspirin sounded like good advice, although her head was no longer quite as painful. Going back to bed sounded even better. With a sigh, she moved to the window and cautiously drew back the curtain. If she leaned into one corner, she could just see the United Worlds building. What was Sam doing right now? Did he remember what happened last night? Her last clear memory was laughing so hard she almost fell down. He had been laughing, too, but he had caught her. She remembered his hand touching her lips and then...nothing. With a frustrated sigh, she started to let the curtain drop. As she did, a blinding flash of green light shot up the small shaft by the river that connected the old and new buildings.

  For a moment nothing happened and she shook her head, wondering if she was seeing things. Then the building began to collapse slowly in on itself. A huge cloud of dust obliterated her view just as the roar of the blast reached her. The apartment building shook and her window exploded inward, the shock wave throwing her to the ground as the world went dark.

  When she came to, glass covered the floor but the heavy curtain material had protected her from most of it. Every muscle in her body hurt but she dragged herself back to the window frame. Wind whipped through the opening, tossing her blonde curls in her face as she leaned out, but she managed to see that the United Worlds Building was completely gone. Only a giant crater remained and, even as she watched, the East River rushed in to claim it.

  Margie had been in that building. Sam had been in there. Not only had any hope of knowing what had happened last night vanished with him, but he had been her friend and now he was dead. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she watched the water swirl in dirty grey waves. An unknown time passed as she watched and mourned. Eventually, a low moaning from the direction of the loveseat caught her attention. Numbly she picked her way across the glass covered floor and found Tribs buried in a pile of cushions. He shook all over but he didn’t appear to be hurt. Holding him tightly, she turned to survey what was left of the small apartment she loved. Her few pieces of furniture were thrown against the walls. Everything was covered in glass and ash. In a matter of minutes, she had lost her friends and her job and her apartment.

  The clouds of dust outside began to clear and a shaft of sunlight illuminated the room, highlighting the glowing colors on her quilt—the quilt her grandmother had made. The thought of her grandmother—of home—was the only thing that made sense in her muddled head. There was no longer a reason to remain in New York. Vaguely aware that tears were still flowing down her face, she dug through the wreckage and haphazardly threw a few clothes into her suitcase. Pulling on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, she grabbed the suitcase, the quilt, and Tribs. At the last minute, she also took Sam’s note. The power was out and the elevator wasn’t working, so she walked down the fourteen flights of stairs by the dim red glow of the emergency lights. An eerie quiet surrounded her. Everyone who lived in the complex had worked at the United Worlds building.

  Firm
ly pushing the thought away, she just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. When at last she reached the ground floor, she headed for the parking space that had also been an unexpected perk of the job. She threw her suitcase in the back of her small car, made Tribs a nest in the quilt on the floor, and headed out of the city. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, she realized that less than an hour had passed since her alarm had sounded.

  Traffic was even worse than normal, a constant stream of emergency vehicles rushing by with their lights flashing. Ignoring them, she concentrated on only one thing—getting home. Two hours passed before she thought to turn on the radio. Speculation about the explosion filled every channel and she was about to turn it off again when the news broke. The spaceships were back. This time the original eight were accompanied by many more; so many more that every major city in the world now had a spaceship hovering overhead. The newsman’s report terminated abruptly. Instead of the Leader’s cultured tones, a harsh new voice growled out the announcement.

  “People of earth, we came to you in the spirit of cooperation. That cooperation was met by violence. If that is the path you choose, that is what you will receive. I am now the Supreme Commander of Earth. I have declared martial law. Until further notice, all planes are grounded. Train and boats are also forbidden. Unless you have work responsibilities, you will be inside your residence by dusk and remain there until morning. Further orders will be transmitted by my section commanders. That is all.”

  Shaking so hard she could barely hold the wheel, Emily pulled to the side of the road. She grabbed her phone but the only thing she could access was the same message repeated over and over, this time accompanied by the Supreme Commander’s image. A terrifying visage stared at her from the small screen. Instead of the small nubs that the Leader and Sam had, the Commander had a full set of horns that swept back from his brow before curling around to deadly points. Rows of sharp teeth filled his mouth when he snarled menacingly at the camera. A black uniform covered his massive chest but left his enormous arms bare. Even in miniature, he projected an impression of immense size and strength. No pity shone in that dark, reptilian gaze.

  Terror broke through the numbness of sorrow. Refusing to let herself think about the wider implications, she focused on the curfew. What was she going to do? She still had eight more hours to travel. Even with the late summer sunset, she couldn’t reach home before dark. Home. She longed for the comfort of her home and her grandmother with every ache of her scared, sorrowful heart. Starting the car, she returned to the road. Driving as fast as the little car would go, she stopped only once for gas and a bathroom break. When she wiped herself, the paper was tinged with blue.

  Despite her speeding, she was still an hour from home when darkness fell. Traffic had been steadily diminishing for the past hour and only her headlights broke the darkness. Her hands were numb from clenching the wheel when she finally pulled into the driveway.

  Emily’s grandmother appeared at the door, her face pale and looking ten years older. Moving much faster than her appearance would indicate, she helped Emily grab her suitcase and Tribs. They had just closed the door when a white light swept the sky.

  To be continued…

  Alien Conquest, coming June 2019!