Invaders

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Through an osmosis subterfuge method,” Rax said.

  “That’s not what I meant. You said the ship was in a location with a power drain.”

  “It was. Something has interrupted the power drain. That allowed me to use regular Guard techniques to recharge the ship’s power cells.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It is another incongruity, I agree,” Rax said. “There are factors here I cannot directly sense, although I fathom their presence. Yet, that is beside the point. The critical factor is that the osmosis subterfuge method is not completely secretive. If the Unguls make a careful study of their readings, it is possible they can counteract the process before we can escape.”

  “I think I’m tracking your meaning. Instead of looking into a power drain somewhere, you want the Unguls chasing me?”

  “Chasing us,” Rax said. “I have put myself in jeopardy as well. That should show you how critically I view the need for our deception tactic.”

  “When are you going to start trusting me and telling me these things up front?”

  “I trust you now,” Rax said. “You have shown yourself to be both brave and resourceful. Yes, you are Galactic Guard material, Logan. There is no doubt about it.”

  I didn’t let his praise go to my head, because I didn’t know if he really meant it.

  “How long are we going to let them chase us?” I asked.

  “An hour should—oh no.”

  “What now?” I asked.

  “The Unguls are deploying hover-pads. We must accelerate and attempt several high-speed maneuvers. Are you able to concentrate?”

  I rolled my shoulders to loosen them. “I’m ready,” I said.

  For the next fifteen minutes, we flew faster, turned sharper and worked deeper into the complex. I hunched over the controls, tapping the panel the instant Rax gave a new instruction.

  “Stop as quickly as possible,” he said later.

  I did.

  “It is time to begin leaving shock sticks,” he said. “You will set them as proximity mines.”

  “How do I do that?”

  He told me. I told him I needed light to do that. He instructed me to pull him out of my pocket. Like a regular cell phone, he shined a light on the sticks. I adjusted several, turning them into proximity mines. Afterward, I readied to drop the first one onto the floor.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Deploying the first proximity mine,” I said.

  “If you set them in place, our proximity will activate the mine. You must throw them into position, making sure we are far enough away so the mine does not immediately detonate.”

  I did as he instructed. Soon, we sped into the darkness again. After three minutes, maybe four, I heard explosions.

  “Excellent,” Rax said. “We damaged a hover-pad. That should spur on the rest to chase us vengefully.”

  I frowned to myself. Was that the goal—to anger them? Why would that be the goal?

  “I think I get it,” I whispered. “You want them chasing us instead of drilling because they’re not trying to break into some key place in the complex, but about to reach the Guard-ship.”

  “Please, Logan—”

  I laughed. “It’s a basic strategy. I’ve seen a crow do something similar, cawing and diving at me as I went to inspect its fallen chick. The mother wanted me to follow her instead of her defenseless chick.”

  “You must internalize such comments,” Rax said. “It is possible the Unguls are monitoring us closely enough to pick up our speech.”

  “Fine,” I said. “But I—”

  “I detect—error, there is an error. A Min Ve has descended to the drilling pit. This is a catastrophe. The probability of a breakthrough has increased one hundred fold. I must advance to a Phase 4 Initiative. Are you ready, Logan?”

  “For what?” I shouted.

  “It may already be too late, but we must transport this instant.”

  -21-

  I materialized inside the Guard-ship. I found it blinding, as lights blazed inside the chamber. I staggered, covered my eyes and strained to adjust to the greater illumination.

  “We must hurry to the piloting chamber,” Rax said.

  “You have to give me a minute. It’s too bright in here.”

  I heard a click.

  “Is that better?” Rax asked.

  I peered from between my fingers. It was far better, dimmer. I watched my step—

  “Hey,” I said. “What happened to the skeleton? It’s gone.”

  “The robot has been tidying up,” Rax said. “Please, Logan. You must hurry.”

  Jumping down from the transporter dais, I hurried though a sliding hatch and raced along a short corridor with a solid deck. There were five other hatches to the sides and a lone forward hatch. It slid up as I neared it.

  I rushed into a forward sloping chamber with controls along the sides and two large cockpit-type windows, with two seats in the front area.

  Lights snapped on outside the windows. It showed rock. The Guard-ship was in a solid rock cavern. Even as I studied the rock, stone chips fell from the ceiling and sprinkled onto the windows. That made me start. Then the tip of a drill burst through the ceiling, sending more rocks and gravel against the ship’s upper glass.

  “Hurry, Logan,” Rax said. “You must sit in the pilot seat and turn on the controls at my orders.”

  “Can’t I shove you into a slot so you can drive the ship?”

  “I have always thought that would be an excellent idea,” Rax said. “A quorum of Rax Prime crystals once threatened to leave Guard service unless they gained such a privilege. The High Council vetoed the idea, and the crystal quorum backed down at the last minute. Their Galactic patriotism outshone their need for equal rights.”

  I plopped onto the pilot seat, setting Rax into an obvious slot on the controls. At his instructions, I tapped the controls, lighting up panels. A hum began somewhere inside the ship, and my seat vibrated the slightest bit.

  As this happened, the drill widened its breach as more metal whirled into view. I looked up, watching the drill disappear up its hole.

  “They could drop explosives on us at any moment,” Rax said. “You must activate the shield.”

  “How do I do that?” I shouted.

  At the crystal’s instructions, I tapped more controls. A green nimbus suddenly glowed around the Guard-ship. Seconds later, two black objects tumbled out of the ceiling-hole. Instead of striking the windows above me, the objects halted on the glowing nimbus.

  “Prepare for impact,” Rax said.

  The two objects exploded. I stared upward in sick fascination. In slow motion, the shock blew the shield downward until it struck the hull. Metal groaned as the ship shook. That threw me out of the seat, causing me to crash against the controls.

  A klaxon wailed. The ship shuddered worse than before, and the shield darkened.

  “Get back into your seat,” Rax said. “If they drop more explosives, the Unguls might make a breach into the ship.”

  I slumped groggily onto the seat, and in a daze, I buckled on seatbelts. Afterward, I continued to follow the crystal’s instructions.

  “They are readying a beam, Logan. You must engage the thrusters.”

  “Are you sure? You said earlier—”

  “Engage, engage,” Rax said. “Be ready for the shockwave, but engage this instant.”

  I tapped the needed control, and all Hell broke loose around us. Rocks flew everywhere, as hot exhaust must have smashed against the chamber walls. Flames licked around the ship. We shook. My teeth rattled and my body strained against the straps looped around me.

  The roar increased, making it almost impossible to hear Rax’s instructions. Then, the ship lurched as we shook harder. Rocks began raining down on us. Some broke through the weakened shield, striking the outer hull with ear-shattering clangs.

  All at once, like a fishing bobber on a geyser, we shot upward. The ship smashed aga
inst the weakened ceiling rock—I’d seen hairline fissures everywhere. We bounced left, thrust right. My head seemed to snap back and forth. I dreaded ricocheting metal shredding the interior compartment and obliterating my skull.

  Then, we were through!

  “Rotate the ship, Logan. Engage the laser cannon. Shoot them this instant.”

  “What do you mean shoot them? How do I shoot them?”

  The ship had broken out of its resting place and into the main cavern. I wondered how it had gotten there in the first place. I recognized the drilling ovals. I saw a snow-cat near an entrance with outer illumination. I also saw Unguls wrestling with what looked like an artillery piece. This piece lacked a muzzle opening, but had the solid tip a raygun would have.

  With dread, I realized it was a ship-killing disintegrator ejector. The Unguls were trying to line it up with the Guard-ship.

  “How do I fire the ship’s cannons?” I shouted.

  Rax explained as the Unguls lined up the artillery-sized disintegrator. The tip glowed with a hellish color.

  I slapped a control. The Guard-ship shot forward, heading for a wall.

  “Turn, turn,” Rax shouted.

  For the next few seconds the ship lurched in one direction and side-swiveled in another. A thick beam flashed past, barely missing us. The beam quit, and the Unguls readjusted for a better shot.

  “You must calm down,” Rax told me.

  “You calm down and start telling me how to fly this thing.”

  The crystal spoke deliberately. That helped steady my racing nerves. The Unguls lined up the cannon. At the same time, I brought the ship around. The disintegrator’s tip glowed with terrible promise. I stabbed the repeater switch. Laser bolts struck the ground in front of the disintegrator. The enemy piece began to beam. At that moment, the shelf in front of the enemy weapon fell apart. The piece tilted toward the pit. The Ungul crew waved their arms in desperation as they slid down with their gun. Then, both the gun-crew and the weapon plummeted for the bottom of the drilling pit.

  “While I applaud your cunning,” Rax said, “it is far from the optimum gunnery pattern you should employ in the future.”

  “You’re welcome!” I shouted.

  After I calmed down, I maneuvered the Guard-ship, using the cannon to obliterate the drills, the scoops and the snow-cats. Afterward, I targeted hiding and then sprinting Unguls. They proved to be excellent gunnery practice. By the time I killed the last alien, I felt as if I had the hang of flying and firing this thing. It was actually quite responsive. To tell you the truth, all my hours of videogame playing came in handy. I was used to maneuvering combat ships like this at my computer console.

  “Have you gained sufficient confidence to fly us through the tunnel?” Rax asked.

  “It will be a piece of cake,” I said.

  Soon, the Guard-ship roared through a rocky tunnel. One area seemed like it would be too narrow. I used the laser cannon, widening the way just enough.

  Seconds later, the Guard-ship burst into the open with a blue sky and shining sun. We’d reached the Greenland surface, although I flew in the bottom of an icy canyon. I took us up, brought the ship around and hammered the alien warehouse with laser bolts.

  I shouted gleefully. The Unguls had terrorized me. They’d likely killed my Nevada guards and thought to have their way on Earth to do as they pleased.

  “Let’s shred the other camp,” I said.

  Rax didn’t respond. I had no idea why, but I wasn’t going to let it spoil my fun. Using the tracks in the snow, I followed the route to the base camp with the modified Learjets.

  After three passes, the warehouse, Learjets, cats and personnel were either burning or dead in the snow.

  “Where do we go next?” I shouted. “Personally, I suggest we strike them in Nevada before they know what’s going on.”

  Rax still did not speak.

  “Is something bothering you?” I asked.

  “Indeed,” Rax said. “According to my scanner and calculations, the chief alien orbital vessel has located us.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “We are about to find out,” Rax said. “The Organizer’s communications officer is making her final request to speak with you.”

  “Why does she want to speak with me? Why doesn’t she want to speak with you?”

  “There is an unfortunate bias in Galactic Society against beings such as me.”

  “What do aliens have against intelligent crystals?” I asked.

  “Are you willing to speak with the communications officer?” Rax asked.

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Your manner is far too glib, considering the situation. Yet, you have agreed to the conversation. That meets standard operating protocols.”

  “You’re making it sound as if it’s a bad idea to talk.”

  “I have one suggestion you would do well to heed,” Rax said. “If she insists on using Galactic Standard Speech, tell her as an Earth-assigned agent you will only communicate in the aboriginal tongue.”

  “I’m thinking my talking to her might not be such a good idea after all.”

  “I have already accepted the call on your behalf,” Rax said. “Refusing now would be tactically unsound.”

  A screen rose from a panel. The screen was fuzzy for just a moment. Then, it cleared, and I found myself staring at another alien.

  She was blue-skinned, with pouty lips and seductively green eyes, and she had the longest, thickest hair I’d ever seen. She didn’t strike me as an Ungul, and her face was too angular to be human. But she had an exotic sexy way about her that I found appealing.

  She spoke gibberish but did so in a sexy purr.

  I recalled Rax’s warning, and decided the Organizer’s people would expect arrogance from a Galactic agent. Thus, I sneered at her without saying a word.

  She cocked her head, spoke again and waited.

  “I am on Earth,” I said.

  She asked another gibberish-sounding question.

  “Because I am on Earth,” I said, “I will only communicate in the aboriginal tongue.”

  She cast a glance to someone off screen. I heard off-screen gibberish this time. It had a rough, male quality. She frowned, nodded and faced me once again. She reached out, tapping unseen controls. Only then did she stare into my eyes.

  There was a shock at the base of my skull, and my groin, and I felt even more attracted to her than before.

  Her lips moved. A second later, I heard, “This is a crude and time-wasting protocol. The planetary species has a limited vocabulary.”

  “You should have gone elsewhere then,” I said.

  Her eyes radiated intensity, and despite my best effort, I found myself grinning at her. Maybe we could talk over a drink.

  “The situation does not concern you, Galactic,” she said. “We have letters of marque from the High Min Ve Council. Thus, we are engaged in a legally correct action. Your interference threatens an open rupture and possibly war. Are you prepared to accept the responsibility of such dire consequences?”

  War sounded bad, and serious, but I wasn’t sure how to respond. Thus, I kept studying her compelling features, wanting to see more of her.

  “You are zealous,” she said, “and perhaps you were unaware of the legality of our action, as our presence here is unusual. Fortunately, in his grace, the Organizer will allow you to depart the planet and the star system in peace. He will also forgo seeking punitive damages in the Galactic Council. But if you attempt to destroy more of the expedition’s property and personnel, I am instructed to tell you that we shall employ maximum force defending ourselves.”

  “Threats don’t scare me,” I said.

  “You are outgunned, outmanned and outdated,” she said. “There are no Galactic starships in the vicinity. This is a derelict planet and an abandoned region of no concern to the Guard.”

  “That’s not how I see it,” I said.

  She leaned closer to the screen, and a frown curv
ed her lips.

  “There is something amiss here,” she said. “Your speech patterns, your leering insolence—you are out of sync.”

  I shrugged as if indifferent, uncertain what she meant.

  “Are you aware that no one knows of your existence here?” she asked. “Thus, no one will care if you die. Consider my question carefully, Galactic. Will you cease your resistance against the Organizer?”

  “We should consider her offer,” Rax said softly.

  “No!” I said, startled the crystal could say that.

  The blue-skinned beauty stiffened. She must have taken that as my answer to her.

  “You’re a stubborn fool,” she said. “You have just sealed your death.”

  “Listen—” I said.

  Abruptly, the screen went blank. That seemed terribly ominous. Had I screwed up?

  “Why should I have accepted her offer?” I asked Rax. “She’s bluffing, right? You said there’s backup near Jupiter.”

  “A lie at the right moment often buys one extra time,” Rax said. “Ours is a frail position. A little verbal maneuvering would have—

  “Warning,” he said. “The orbital vessel has locked onto us with its targeting computers.”

  “What should I do?” I asked.

  “Listen to me precisely, Logan. You must do this correctly the first time, or you and I shall both cease to exist.”

  -22-

  I flew the Galactic Guard-ship faster across the snow and ice. It reminded me of coming to Greenland. It was hard to believe I’d only arrived this morning. My time in the tunnels and complex seemed like a lifetime now.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked.

  “Please hold your questions,” Rax said. “I must give my full attention to my calculations.” Several seconds later, he said, “I have it. We have less than three minutes before they launch.”

  “That seems like an awfully long time for them to warm up their disintegrator cannons.”

  “You are working under a false assumption,” Rax said. “The orbital vessel is not a warship.”

  “Then why are we running away? Let’s go upstairs and blast them to smithereens.”

  “For all your sophistication, you are a barbarian, Logan, with simple solutions.”