Invasion

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Invasion Page 12

by Dmitrii Mansurov


  A wave of vampirism swept through the country and spread to the neighboring states so rapidly that no one had time to do anything about it. The vampires won the battle for the planet. The population abandoned everything, and in a panic, they rushed to the spaceports. Sadly, only the most impudent and cunning managed to fly away in time. But the happiness of those who had departed was short-lived. They didn't manage to escape from the problem since vampires turned out to be among them. The vampires that remained victors had preserved the knowledge and skills people used to have, so eventually, they also rushed into space to conquer the Universe.

  The time of the Great Expansion had come.

  Hundreds of spaceships didn't reach their destination and remained wandering in the depths of the space, turning into ghosts. Because of the lack of high-tech communications, most of the Galactic Alliance was unaware of the impending disaster and was not prepared to defend their planets.

  In one year, the vampires realized their power and destroyed humanity on twenty-seven planets. The ghost ships with vampires occasionally collided with incoming ships. The crews took the abandoned ships in tow and were very happy upon finding sleeping people inside. But not for long.

  Undeterred by anything or anyone, the vampires traveled from planet to planet like locusts. They destroyed all other forms of life, and no one in the Galaxy could stop them. But gradually, a strange story about space bloodsuckers reached some highly developed planets, and the military began preparing for the inevitable clash.

  This was how the Great War started, and its consequences were still echoing through the Galactic Union. Tens of thousands of abandoned ships of all stripes and shapes still floated out of the dark space depths and sowed panic among the inhabitants of the planets. No one nowhere ever tried to explore ghost ships again. They were simply destroyed.

  And in those distant times when annihilators hadn't existed even in theory, people were trying to destroy vampires with simple weapons. The explosive 24-caliber solved the problem only partly. The vampire would die if they were torn to pieces. But the blood from it seeped into the ground, got on the plants, on people, on insects, and crawled inside various organisms, causing catastrophic consequences. It ended with the insects being infected through the pollen of flowers, the birds being infected because of insects, and the animals being infected because of birds. Everything and everyone was infected, so even the peaceful butterflies became vampires, not to mention bees, wasps, and ants. The number of vampires was growing exponentially, and they didn't spare anyone in their path.

  Scientists from many planets tried to create an effective weapon but failed to come up with anything except a stun gun. So, desperate to save at least someone, they decided to fight with ruthless force. On planets where the infection was in full swing, they used the most powerful weapon in existence. Thermonuclear and neutron bombs, tectonic system units, artificially-induced collisions with asteroids, shifting the planet’s orbit — the spectrum of technologies those scientists applied was wide. The paralyzed vampires were annihilated or burned in crematoria, but the supplies of annihilators, crematoria, and fuel were sorely lacking. That's why they had to keep the vampires in special bunkers on lifeless planets. Another popular choice entailed throwing the vampires into uninhabited planets with an atmosphere. They fell from a great height and burned in its dense layers. But because of the fear that not all the agents of vampirism would burn, this method was not widespread since such planets became closed for landing forever. Other methods were also used, but they all were ineffective. The creation of powerful manual annihilators that happened four hundred and fifty years after the beginning of the war was a big breakthrough. Millions and millions of vampires were destroyed, and a huge amount of energy was obtained for fighting them. A giant stun gun capable of influencing an entire medium-sized planet was built, with the duration of exposure reaching half of an average galactic month. The paralyzed residents were checked for the presence of vampire mutations, and those who had them were destroyed. The method was effective but complex. And only the appearance of the legendary DNA-atrafficator put an end to the advance of the vampires. It wasn't even an escape but a swift disappearance. The atrafficator ensured that the vampires' DNA mutated and destroyed their own body in two or three days. Having a size of a combat battleship, the atrafficator irradiated the planet from space to destroy the vampires without hurting anyone else. The battleships with stunners joined in, and in this tandem, the total destruction of the vampires was achieved. It took almost five hundred years. Each planet was thoroughly treated and cleaned. Every inhabited world was subjected to periodic reprocessing done by atrafficators. Small planets, asteroids, comets, and space debris simply disappeared. Special military teams were created, and they were respectfully called "immortals." These people were exploring space for decades, until their very deaths, seeking out and destroying ghost ships, asteroids, comets, and other debris where the virus could have survived. For fifteen hundred years, no one had learned how to treat this disease, and the only positive news was that over time, the merciless virus had weakened. The radiation coming from young stars was destructive to them. According to the scientists, after seven thousand years, the virus had reached the final weak point and quietly faded into the past.

  ***

  And now it turned out that some of the vampires survived. The strange thing was, five thousand years had passed after the end of the war, and the vampires still hadn't conquered this planet.

  'Maybe two or three vampires from the last months of the war survived,' the captain guessed when he finally regained the ability to think logically. Now they roamed at night, behaving differently, not like they used to. Did they not want to attract attention to themselves or did something prevent them from attacking properly? A young star, for example.

  ***

  Yaroslav and Artem saw Babak, Alena, and Ivan off to the edge of the village and went back. They really wanted to leave, to let the stupid peasants deal with the vampires by themselves, but the princes suppressed this impulse. After burying the miller, who had died from his injuries, they stood over his grave for a while. They were about to make an observation point on a high tree when a tired mongrel with glowing green eyes ran up to them. Yaga's mind control had lost its power a long time ago, but the mongrel liked this new look so much that it stayed with him forever.

  Hunter ran to the grave, sat down, and howled wistfully.

  "Isn't he Alena's dog?" Artem asked. "She talked about her mongrel missing."

  "Let's check!" Yaroslav knelt down and called, "Hunter…"

  Hunter ceased howling, turned to face them, and waved his tail uncertainly. The space around them was filled with another heartbreaking howl.

  "Yeah, it's him."

  "I want to howl, too," Yaroslav said.

  "Then do so," Artem suggested. "What's the problem?"

  "I can't. It won't be as effective as when Hunter does it."

  The princes paused, then put on their helmets and left. Hunter joined them.

  ***

  The second group of scouts got close to the village about midnight, stimulated by the complaints of the vampires who had escaped yesterday. They were dying to sink their teeth into the impudent little people. Humans had won before, but those victories were so rare and insignificant that the vampires only laughed ironically. Every night, they went out to battle, and if people won over a small group, they returned there with a detachment of several dozens of vampires. No warrior could resist such an army. They were simply crushed and turned into similar creatures. Good warriors were valued anywhere.

  The vampires decided to refrain from a fight with the mysterious old woman in the middle of the woods. There was no use in it. In the villages, people were simpler, and unlike the old women, they were an easy prey. Some got turned into vampires, others died or were burned in the morning. And no huts with legs that kicked painfully.

  ***

  The vampires ran to the village and stopped, perplexe
d. It looked as if it'd been abandoned a hundred years ago. All the windows and doors were boarded up and there wasn’t a soul around. The vampires stood, thinking, and then spread across the streets.

  Quiet noises, barely audible sneezing, muffled coughing, inarticulate swearing... nothing escaped the vampires with their sharp hearing. They all rushed to the first house, tore off the defenses, and broke inside. The frightened owners bombarded them with household utensils, but the forces were unequal and the supply of utensils soon ended.

  The smell of blood teased the hungry vampires. They cracked open the houses like nuts, attacked people hiding there and feasted on them, unable to get enough of fresh blood.

  The village was filled with screams and cries.

  ***

  The bearded man was sitting quietly on a stool. The splinters lit up the empty room. His family didn't dare to stay. He let them go. His wife, his daughter, and his two sons. And now he was glad he had done it. The screams grew louder and closer. The vampires approached, sowing death left and right, catching up with those who tried to run, killing them.

  The jugs with fuel mixture from the forest swamps formed an arch over the front door. Eight more stood on the table, waiting for their fate. Another ten were placed around the house. A candle was burning in man's hands. When the first blows came, he didn't move. But when the wood crackled, he lit the wick of the first jug and began to wait. As soon as the door was thrown open, he threw it at the enemy. The uninvited guests turned into living torches. The liquid spilled on the floor and a burning stream flowed to the broken jugs.

  The window cracked, and the wind that broke through it made the fire blaze brighter. Someone's blood-covered mug pushed itself into the house, and the bearded man threw another jug at it. The inflamed mug retreated with loud yelling. The liquid spilled in front of the window. The house was engulfed by black smoke. The third and the fourth jugs followed. The shouts increased significantly, and the jugs at the entrance exploded. A powerful wave of flames swallowed the house. The bearded man coughed. It became difficult to breathe as the temperature was rising rapidly. The fire engulfed almost everything at this point.

  "Screw it!" the bearded man cried out, throwing the last jug. The howling of the vampires overcame the screams of their victims. The fire spread to the bearded man, but he didn't pay any attention to it. Instead, he rushed through the flames toward the doorway. He jumped, somersaulted, threw away the burning blanket that he used to cover his body, and jumped outside. The vampires were running around like flaming torches, and no one cared about him.

  The powerful blows were knocking the vampires off their feet, the club crushing their skulls like nuts. From his very childhood, from the time of fairy tales, the bearded man dreamed of becoming a hero. In these last hours, the memories of his childhood came flooding back, and he forgot about the everyday life with all its hardships. He could hear the voices from the past echoing in his head, reminding him of the old, almost forgotten stories. He felt like a hurricane capable of crushing all obstacles on his path.

  Seeing that he wasn't fighting alone as some of his neighbors joined him, the bearded man smiled.

  'Maybe we were stupid and ignorant,’ he thought, 'but no one will say that we gave up without a fight…'

  The neighbors bludgeoned at the vampires with whatever they could find, but their ranks were steadily getting thinner, and soon, the bearded man was one of the last remaining few. From his house, the fire spread to the neighboring ones, making the night as bright as the day. The cries of the wounded were no longer heard. The vampires were randomly rushing from the dead to the dying, drinking the remnants of their blood, while the bearded man kept beating at them with all his strength. The voices of his family sounded louder and clearer…

  And when he was surrounded by a large crowd of vampires, when he was knocked down and they began to drink his blood, he didn't feel pain any longer. With his last efforts, he threw a club forward and smashed the vampire's face. Then he fell back, exhausted, muttering, "Finally..."

  The familiar voices became even louder. The vampires around him melted away in a blinding glow, and his dead parents and friends stood in front of him instead. They smiled happily and greeted him.

  "Come on," the miller said. "You did a good job. It's time to have a rest."

  "Did I kill a lot of vampires?" the bearded man asked hoarsely.

  "Most of them," the miller said. The others nodded.

  "I wish you'd gone with your family," his father said. "But don't be sad."

  As if through cotton wool, he heard these last words and grew confused, not knowing whether to rejoice or to grieve.

  "You will meet them soon," his father said. "Come on, we'll show you your new home."

  ***

  Yaroslav and Artem were shooting from their hiding place. The vampires were in flames, burning, but there were so many of them and the supply of the arrows came to an end disappointingly quickly.

  The village flared up. The wind was blowing the flames away from the burning house of the bearded man, fanning the sparks. The neighboring and more remote houses were all going ablaze. The surviving vampires were finishing off the rest of people, and the princes rushed into the attack with mini-spears.

  Hunter was running like mad, brutally biting the vampires. The enraged vampires gathered into a decent crowd and were chasing him, but as they couldn't catch him, they grew more and more crazed.

  The princes flew at the vampires who had killed the bearded man from both sides and began to furiously stab them, adding more fire to the raging flames around them. Hunter-the-fierce-biter followed. The vampires howled. One way or another, they were more afraid of dogs than of people because the latter didn't bite as painfully.

  The crowd of Hunter's bitten victims returned a second later, forming a bunch of swearing vampires. The princes barely managed to fight back and destroy the enemies. The remaining crumbs of the vampire squad broke and retreated. They turned into poorly flying bats and disappeared in the low clouds.

  There was silence.

  "Victory!" the brothers shouted happily. The voices of the surviving peasants echoed the call, and Hunter barked happily at the moon.

  ***

  Kashchey was sitting on a chair of from a later Paleolithic period. Storing things for an unthinkable number of years was foolish at best. But it was a pity to throw them away. After all, they were rare. On the floor next to him, an age indicator was lying nearby.

  "How do we find the Central console if all the doors are open now?" he asked, puzzled.

  "How was I supposed to know this would happen?" Maria tried to defend herself. "I'm here for the first time."

  "And for the last one!" Kashchey added. "Don't expect me to kidnap you every summer. What else have you found?"

  "Different boxes," Maria said. "I don't know what they're for."

  "Give them to me!" Kashchey demanded, holding out his hand. Maria passed him the matte black rectangle. He examined it and pressed some red button. The box dimly lit and flashed. Kashchey put the box on a chair and moved away. "Let's see what it'll do."

  There was a click. The box stuck to the chair and then flew up with it to the ceiling. The chair hit it and shattered into pieces while the box broke through the ceiling and flew to the next floor. Then it rammed into the remaining ceilings in the castle and flew into the vast depths of space. Kashchey waited until the dust settled and looked at the holes the box had left.

  "What do you know," he said calmly. "It's raining!"

  "Really? How do you know?" the princess asked in surprise. She went to the hole, looked up, and barely had time to jump back when a drop of water slipped out from there. "Oh! You could have told me about it from the start!"

  "I didn't ask you to repeat after me," Kashchey shrugged. "I'm immortal, after all."

  "Don't brag!" Maria advised.

  A flashing hemisphere entered the room, drove over the ceiling, rolled up to the hole and covered it. When it retreated,
the ceiling was intact. Not even a hint of the hole was left. Staring after the hemisphere, Kashchey shook his head.

  "The kind of things my castle has!"

  "What a pity it doesn't have any order," the princess replied. She took a hat off the shelf and put it on her head. "A cap. A warm one."

  "We don't need hats yet," Kashchey said, turning to face her. Then he blinked. "What."

  The princess wasn't here.

  "Maria!" he exclaimed. "Where are you?!"

  "What are you doing?!" the box on the fourth shelf from the top asked in a frightened voice. "Want to make me into a stutterer? Why are you looking at me like this?"

  "I can't see you!" Kashchey said hoarsely.

  "Stop joking around!"

  "I honestly can't see you! Come on, appear like you disappeared!" he ordered.

  He had a reason to panic. If the savior prince came, how would he explain to him that the talking air was his beloved who he had been searching for?

  Maria appeared on the chair in a rapidly thickening mist. She had the hat in her hand. The box was standing at the level of her head, which caused Kashchey to think God knew something. When he came up with different tricks, it was acceptable. But when his followers did the same? It was too much.

  "What's wrong?" Maria was confused. "Are you sick?"

  "When I feel sick," Kashchey said smugly, "I will express it in other words." He went to a short cupboard and leaned against it. "You've just found an invisibility hat. And I've already started considering transmutations and transformations of black matter…"

  "What are you even... er... discussing with yourself?" Maria was confused. "Are you feeling sick, after all? Are you cursing or are these spells of some kind?"

  "These are... scientific terms," Kashchey muttered, turning off a scientific dictionary and hiding it away. When he'd leaned against the cupboard, he inadvertently activated this miraculous book. "You know what, I'm going to take a break."

  "Why?"

  "This evil box has filled me with profoundly clever words."

  "Say them!" Maria asked. "It sounds interesting."

 

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