The Alien Reindeer's Christmas Package

by Leslie Chase

  Baubles and decorations covered every surface and Christmas trees hung upside-down from the roof above our heads. Decorations dangled from them in a chaotic mess. Beneath them, presents lay scattered. Hundreds, thousands of them. Every Christmas present the colony had, all stolen and placed here.

  “This is all for the Commander?” My mind boggled at the greed of it, filling me with something like disgusted awe. “Seriously?”

  Gwen nodded, glancing around. Her eyes never stopped moving, as though she thought an alien might leap out from hiding. “He’ll give some of it to his crew. Reward his favorites. But yeah, this is all for him.”

  I looked around. It wasn’t just the presents and decorations — other stolen treasure sat around the hold too. A painting of Earth that I recognized from the Nicholasville town hall. The sculpture that had marked the point where the first human set foot on the planet, immortalizing Imogen Nicholas planting the flag of Earth.

  And at the back, the shiny new rover her grandson had imported from Earth. In theory it was for exploring and surveying the planet. In practice, Jackson Nicholas wanted a toy, a car that went fast and could take on any terrain. Now it sat here with a giant bow on its hood, a gift for an alien invader.

  But it was a vehicle I knew how to drive. My lips twitched as I turned the idea over in my mind.

  Gwen caught me staring at the rover and her face paled. “I… uh, I’m supposed to tell you to stay here till the Commander comes and gets you. Which, you know, it’ll probably be midnight…”

  Her voice trailed off and I felt her tense next to me. Putting my best smile on my face I turned to her and gripped her shoulders.

  “So you’ve done your job,” I said. “No one can say you haven’t gotten me here, all dressed up like they told you.”

  “You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?” I couldn’t tell if her concern was for me or for herself. Probably a mix of the two. I forced a smile onto my face.

  “No, don’t worry.” Nothing as stupid as waiting here for this Commander to abuse me. “I’ll be fine.”

  Gwen’s nod was reluctant, but she gave me a little smile. “I’ve got other duties to see to.”

  She started to pull back, but I held on. Abandoning Gwen wouldn’t be right. “You can stay? Come with me?”

  A quick, firm shake of her head was her only answer. She pulled free of my grip, hurrying back to the door of the hold and pausing as it opened for her.

  “Don’t do anything crazy,” she said, almost too quiet to hear. “Life as a prisoner here is shit, but it’s better than dying.”

  Not for me. I nodded anyway and watched the door slide shut behind her. Gwen might accept slavery to survive, I didn’t blame her for making that choice, but not me. Not when I was about to be given away as a fucking present.

  I’d find a way to escape even if it killed me.

  The outer hatch of the hold wouldn’t open for me, of course. That would have been too easy. One problem at a time, I told myself, I’m not going anywhere without a vehicle.

  Running a hand over the rover’s shiny red hull, I bit my lip. Pretty much everyone in the colony envied it, the only vehicle of its kind on the planet. Equipped with every possible piece of survival gear, so Jackson had boasted, even those things that had no value on Faraway.

  Heart hammering, I touched the door controls and it opened. Thank god Nicholasville was still small, trusting. No one needed locks on their stuff.

  The controls were familiar, like every rover I’d driven only with dozens of extra settings. Displays lit up as I took hold of the wheel and took stock of my options.

  I let out a long breath as the batteries showed a full charge. Without power this would have been hopeless. Flicking through the settings, I found the underseat heaters, a well-stocked music library, a button that reconfigured the back of the cabin into a small living area complete with a bed.

  All great in an escape — once I’d gotten off this blasted ship. Not so good while I was stuck in here. I grimaced and kept looking. Holograms flickered past, more media stations, a radio, massage settings for the driver’s seat…

  There! I thought I’d remembered Jackson boasting about how his new toy would never get stuck on the rough terrain of Faraway. It carried its own blasting charge, big enough to free it from any obstacle.

  Okay, so it was meant for an explorer trapped in a rockslide or needing to clear a fallen tree out of the way. Not for busting out of a spaceship, and I didn’t know if it would blow out the hatch or explode the rover. It didn’t matter: either sounded like a better fate than being unwrapped by the alien Commander.

  My fingers trembling, I started the rover’s engine. It purred to life and I held my breath, praying the aliens weren’t monitoring the hold. When seconds passed and no alarms sounded, I breathed again and reached for the throttle.

  The rover crushed presents under its wheels as I turned it, bracing the front against the sealed cargo hatch. My heart pounding and mouth dry, I activated the blasting charge. It had a variable yield, and with no idea how much of a boom I needed I dialed it all the way up to maximum. I’d only have one chance at this.

  Warnings popped up, telling me we were in a confined space. That the charge was intended for emergency use only. Asking if I was absolutely sure I wanted to use it.

  “Nope,” I said aloud. “This might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

  My voice sounded firm and confident, I noticed with an amused pride. Here I was being badass, and no one would ever know. My finger didn’t even shake as I raised it to the switch, braced myself, and pushed.

  The windscreen blacked out to protect me from the light, but nothing shielded me from the way the rover bucked. Seatbelts bit into my shoulders, then the chair slammed into my back with bruising force. I hung there, gasping for air and hoping I hadn’t broken any bones, as the window cleared again.

  Sunlight. The blast had torn open a hole in the cargo hatch, breaking the seal holding it shut. The weight of the rover pushed it open, scattering presents and trees down to the landing field below.

  That’s a long drop, I thought, too dazed to be afraid. I just stared blankly as the rover rolled forward and dropped out of the hatch.

  Sheer luck brought it down on its wheels, the suspension absorbing most of the fall. What got through to me was still enough to bruise my tailbone, but I was free. That thought cut through the shock and fear.

  The rover jerked forward as I pushed the throttle, aiming for the gate. If the warship fired on me, there was nothing I could do about it — but at least I’d go out on my own terms.

  Guards leaped out of my way, too shocked to do anything else, and I raced out onto the snow-covered landscape outside. The spaceport receded into the distance and no one fired at me. My heart rate started to drop to something near normal as I realized that I’d made it. Perhaps the aliens would give chase, but the immediate danger was past.

  Where to next? The question was inescapable, and unanswerable. I hadn’t expected my desperate plan to work — what to do afterward hadn’t come into my head. Letting the rover race out into the wilderness, I tried to think of a destination.

  2

  Dhannar

  Far from its star, the small blueish planet of Faraway flew in its long orbit. Two moons orbited it, one large and one small, and those were its only interesting features. I grumbled as I brought my ship closer, wishing I hadn’t drawn this duty.

  My brethren back on Earth had an easy job, a single night of hard work. Even those who’d drawn the closer colonies had it easier, needing a week at most. I, on the other hand, had to visit the furthest out human colony. Weeks of travel to reach this frozen iceball, and weeks more ahead of me before I got home.

  I reduced power to a minimum as I approached, making sure the stealth systems were engaged. Human technology advanced fast — until recently they’d had nothing capable of detecting a reilendeer vessel. Now we needed to be careful if we wanted to keep our existe
nce secret. Another advantage my brothers had on Earth: they didn’t need to leave the atmosphere.

  With active sensors off I approached half-blind, engines at a minimum. This was a time to be careful; colliding with something in orbit would be an embarrassing disaster. But there was nothing at all.

  Strange. I’d expected the Nicholasville colony to have some orbiting satellites. Instead the skies were bare and empty aside from some debris. I double-checked, but nothing around the planet broadcast a noticeable signal. Frowning, I considered switching on the active sensors.

  That would give up any pretense of stealth, though, and the humans might not treat me as a friend. My mission wouldn’t wait. The cargo hold hummed with packages of Christmas cheer, my cargo from Santa, and if I failed to deliver it by Christmas Day it would turn bad. The journey had taken too long already and if the humans held me up on landing…

  I would not risk it. Slipping lower, my ship brushed the atmosphere, slowing so it wouldn’t leave a noticeable trail. My hands gripped the control stick, adjusting the power levels carefully. I’d land just out of sight of the colony, bring in my cargo at night, and then leave before anyone was the wiser. A simple plan.

  Something lit up on the sensors, a spike of power above the Nicholasville spaceport. Instinct kicked in hard and I yanked at the stick, pulling my ship to the left and accelerating. A bolt of plasma burned through the air behind me, flash-frying the tail of my ship.

  I cursed under my breath. Bad enough that I had to cross the gulf of space, now I was coming down in a war zone? A warship rose from the spaceport, firing as it came. Not a human vessel, that was obvious from its weapons and the fact that it could target me at all. I’d flown into a trap.

  Another blast shot up at me, blue lightning snapping too close for comfort. Warning lights flashed, a dozen emergencies demanding my attention at once.

  No point in stealth now. I opened the throttle, angling up and trying for space. The cold atmosphere slowed my ship, kept me from maneuvering, kept me trapped. If I reached vacuum, I’d have a chance to catch my breath and think.

  I nearly made it. Jinking left and right, I felt the grip of the air loosen. And then the plasma bolt struck my engines.

  It wasn’t a direct hit. That would have scattered my small craft across the planet below. A near miss was bad enough, sending power surges through the ship’s circuits and sending me into an uncontrolled spin as the engines failed.

  Keeping control was impossible, and I focused on getting the ship down in as few pieces as possible. Fire trailed from the ruined engines, hull peeled back taking heat shielding with it, and a red glow filled the view screen before the sensors burned out.

  I was coming in blind, shot down by Santa-knows-who. The ejector button glowed an inviting green, but I didn’t even consider pressing it. My precious cargo would be lost if I didn’t keep control of the ship, and I refused to fail my brethren and the humans of the planet below.

  Every ounce of my willpower, my strength, all I had pulled at the controls and the ship leveled out under me. Warning lights flared and faded — my ship was dying, and no matter what happened next it would never fly again. But it might still manage one last service.

  “Get me down intact and I will put up a memorial to you,” I whispered to the ship. Perhaps it heard me, perhaps it was just luck, but my flight steadied for a vital second.

  Then the ground hit, and everything went black.

  My entire body ached, the smell of burning plastic filled the air, and everything hung at an odd angle. It took a moment to recognize the ragged breathing I heard as my own.

  I forced my eyes open, wincing and blinking. Dim red emergency lights illuminated the chaos of the cockpit. Half the warning lights flashed at me, and the other half had burned out. Nothing functioned.

  I sucked in a deep breath, winced as bruised ribs protested, and then let out a triumphant bellow. I’d done it. Despite the attack and the damage, I’d brought the ship down without killing myself.

  Pulling free of the straps that held me in place, I turned to check the cargo bay only to find the door sealed and unmoving. A warning light above it claimed that there was vacuum on the far side of the hatch, but that was impossible. Something had broken the sensors.

  I snarled, looking around for a way to force it open. No luck. The hatches were designed to stop anyone accidentally opening a path to vacuum and killing everyone aboard. And the emergency override that should have allowed me to open it didn’t work.

  Which meant that the rest of the ship was off limits to me, and with it my quarters. My equipment. Worst of all, the cargo. I couldn’t even reach the exit. The damaged safety system trapped me in the cockpit.

  Unless I found a way out, I’d have survived the crash only to die with the ship as my tomb. The enemy, whoever they were, might still win.

  I refused to allow that. Stalking back to my seat, I sat back down and let the webbing embrace me again. If the door wouldn’t work, I only had one way out of here.

  “You’d better work,” I snarled, flicking the cover off the ejector switch. It wasn’t made for use on the ground, and with the damage to the ship there was no telling if it would work at all. If the canopy failed to open I’d be flung into it with bone-cracking force.

  But at least I’d die trying to escape. I jammed my thumb down on the button, and the seat slammed into me at full force.

  The roof exploded out of my way and I shot skyward, the world spinning around me. Icy fields stretched away in all directions, a flash of red moved past too quick to focus on, the sun pinwheeled across my vision.

  A wall of white rose to meet me and I slammed into a snowbank. The impact drove the air from my lungs again, but this time I refused to pass out. I struggled out of the chair and pulled myself to my feet, the world wobbling around me.

  Next to me the chair’s back popped open and a bright blue parachute flopped onto the snow. I stared at it, unable to hold back my laughter at the sight. It was as much relief as humor — I’d made it. I’d survived. Now I had time to figure out my next move.

  First, I checked my injuries. No broken bones, nothing worse than bruised ribs. That would fade quickly. My sore muscles would make shifting tougher, but I’d manage if I had to. And I feared I would — how else was I going to transport my precious cargo to the human colony?

  The ship would be no help. It lay at the end of a deep furrow in the frozen ground, wreckage scattered on all sides. From outside I saw the damage clearly, and I was impressed that it’d made it to the surface at all. Hiding my location would be impossible, which meant that I had to move fast. My attackers would be here soon. I didn’t even know how long I’d been unconscious.

  The good news was that the cargo hold remained intact. Perhaps, with luck and hard work, I’d still be able to complete my mission. I’d come a long way from Earth’s North Pole to make this delivery.

  If I gathered enough scrap to improvise a sleigh, and if I was close enough to the colony — and if I could work out which direction it was in — I’d get at least some of my cargo there for Christmas Day.

  Unless I ran into the enemies who’d shot me down. That would be a problem, but there was no point in worrying about it until I’d solved the first issue: getting at the cargo.

  Distant noise drew my attention, an engine rumbling closer. Human colonists or alien attackers? I ducked behind a snowbank, getting cover while I assessed the situation.

  A bright red vehicle approached, six large wheels pulling it across the icy wastes with ease. Good, I thought. That would serve well for moving my cargo. But a lot depended on who drove it.

  A human search party from their colony would be helpful. I’d enlist their help or take the vehicle from them if I had to. An assault team from whatever enemies had attacked would be a greater danger but more satisfying to face.

  Keeping low, I moved away from the mound of snow I’d hidden behind, putting space between me and the parachute that marked my landing spot
like a beacon. The rover crept closer, seemingly reluctant to approach the damaged ship. A wise caution: the damage was bad enough that worrying about a fuel explosion made sense.

  But that caution spoke against an attack force — they’d have every reason to charge in. In a way that was a pity; I’d have appreciated an enemy to take my anger out on. I didn’t emerge from hiding straight away, though. I had to be careful, couldn’t risk being taken by surprise.

  As the vehicle crept closer, I saw more movement behind it. A flying platform skimmed over the frozen surface of the planet, closing quickly on the crash site. Though it was too far away for me to make out the details, I didn’t need to. That wasn’t human technology. Two separate groups were converging on me.

  My mood brightened a little at that. Whoever was in the wheeled vehicle, soon enough I’d have someone to fight.

  3

  Megan

  Why am I headed towards this? I’d asked myself the question ever since I saw the shooting star fall, and I didn’t have a good answer. The smart move would be to put as much distance between me and where the star came down as possible — the impact must have attracted the invaders’ attention.

  But I didn’t have anywhere else to go. At least this gave me a direction, and I had the vaguest of hopes. If it was a spaceship coming down rather than a meteor, then maybe — just maybe — it meant there was a way off this godforsaken iceball.

  I doubted it. There wasn’t a ship due for weeks, and even if it was an unscheduled visitor, it had come down hard. What were the odds of it taking off again? But any hope was worth checking out.

  Ice crunched under the rover’s wheels and I checked the battery level again. It hadn’t magically risen in the five minutes since I last checked. Turning down the cabin heater to save power helped, but not enough if it came to a chase.