Invaders

by Vaughn Heppner

  The Min Ve had rained many rods, however. Maybe he’d realized the power of the surface-to-space cannon. Instead of a handful, hundreds of orbital rods shrieked down from the heavens. Each one left a luminous trail in the sky as it plummeted toward its target.

  What would any watching Chinese or American soldier make of those trails?

  The surface-to-space cannon obliterated more rods than I would have believed possible. In the end, though, several rods made it down all the way.

  The first struck the turret, leaving a harmless, baseball-sized chunk missing. The second did that to a lower portion of the barrel. More rods hit, gouging out more little holes. Despite the terrific meteor-like velocity, the individual rods did negligible damage to the great gun. More kept raining down. More kept hitting. The Min Ve’s targeting was something else.

  Now, uranium rods struck, creating fireballs. And an enemy orbital beam finally struck at Greenland. The ground-to-space cannon no longer fired at the privateer, but smoked still more rods. Maybe because of that, the Min Ve was finally willing to lower his shield each needed microsecond in order to beam a disintegrator ray.

  With the suddenness of a falling tree, the great barrel splintered. The cannon fell onto the ground, breaking into several large pieces. At that point, a giant fireball ignited, blowing those pieces into hundreds of smaller ones.

  “What just happened?” I asked.

  Argon didn’t answer. Instead, he staggered, clutching his gut. I didn’t understand. It seemed as if the giant barrel’s destruction had physically hurt him.

  Several seconds later, Argon twisted his head to look back at me. Pain was etched across his features. Slowly, he removed his hands from his gut, straightened and sighed.

  “I kept some of the larger explosions at bay for a time,” he whispered.

  “You can do that?”

  “When I released my hold, all the contained explosions united at once. That is what you just witnessed.”

  I blinked several times as I tried to figure out what he was saying. Could he dampen a blast? I guessed so. But he could only do so for a time, it would seem. That was one crazy aspect. That was what he’d been talking about before. He could control—

  “Launch the missiles,” Argon said in a harsh voice.

  It took several seconds. Then, the floor, the giant screen and the Neanderthals and hominids at their stations began to tremble and finally shake. I stumbled to the right and to the left as I tried to compensate.

  On the screen, gigantic missiles lofted from hidden silos. They were bigger than any ballistic missiles I’d seen on TV. The roar of their passage was amazing. The big things seemed armored and frankly indestructible. They climbed slowly at first, but soon gained velocity. More silo caps blew into the air. More giant missiles left their ancient lairs.

  “The missiles have been waiting since the dawn of time to fly?” I shouted.

  Argon focused on the screen. I was certain he heard me, but I guess he was busy.

  A red disintegrator beam struck down from the heavens. It hit a giant missile’s hardened nosecone. The armor took the hit for a long moment before finally beginning to smoke.

  “Are you doing that?” I asked.

  Argon shook his head.

  The entire missile exploded at once, reminding me of the Challenger shuttle explosion I’d seen in a documentary.

  The disintegrator ray focused on a new missile. At the same time, orbital rods attempted to strike the rising missiles. One hit, smashing the missile off course but not annihilating it. Those armored nosecones were tough sons of bitches. The rest of the orbital rods streaked earthward.

  Giant red beams now reached down like the ones I’d seen that night in Nevada. One part of the giant screen showed the result. Inside the circle of a red beam, the Ungul’s boxlike tanks and Ungul soldiers appeared. In other red-beamed circles, I saw small one-man flyers with Unguls lying prone on them. Those flew toward the underground openings.

  I glanced at Argon.

  “Form combat teams,” the Polarion said in a loud voice.

  The Neanderthals and hominids rose from their stations. They picked up rifles and grenades, racing for the exits.

  I studied the giant screen. It seemed as if the Min Ve were emptying his privateer. He’d sent down a small army of Unguls. Argon’s pitiful few wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

  “Can you destroy the Ungul army with your aspect?” I asked.

  Argon glanced at me, his features unreadable. Afterward, he focused on the giant screen, on the part showing the climbing missiles.

  The privateer’s disintegrator beams knocked out more missiles. The Min Ve’s people no longer targeted the armored nosecones, but the less armored rocket areas.

  Argon made a grinding noise in the back of his throat. I heard an agonized, “No,” torn from him. He raised his hands, and power sizzled from them. He stepped closer to the giant screen, staring at the privateer. It seemed as if the Polarion concentrated with awful intensity. He staggered, and air whooshed from his lungs.

  On the screen, I witnessed a new sight. Something dark appeared near the privateer. Then, what looked like an EMP blast started as a tiny light from the darkness. The light expanded rapidly, one portion of it striking the privateer’s shield. In that moment, the glow of the shield disappeared. The Min Ve’s disintegrator beams no longer poured from the various cannons.

  The remaining Greenland missiles lofted unharmed toward their orbital target.

  I shouted with glee, pumping a fist into the air.

  Argon glanced at me. He did not appear elated.

  Frowning, I watched the privateer. I saw point defense cannons beginning to fire solid shot. By the magic of the Greenland sensors, I could see the solid shots heading at various missiles.

  I winced every time I saw a PD shell hit an armored nosecone. The armored missiles were tough, but one by one, they shredded apart under the merciless PD assault.

  “Use another EMP blast,” I said.

  Argon shook his head sadly. The Polarion looked haggard and old. It seemed like a chore for him now just to remain standing.

  “So the Starcore has won?” I asked.

  That seemed to revive Argon a little. He spun around, racing to an abandoned station.

  Two of our missiles yet remained. The second-to-last missile exploded under a PD hail. That left the last one.

  Argon stood at the station, tapping controls. Finally, he looked up at the giant screen.

  PD shells hammered the last missile.

  I stepped closer to the giant screen. Tiny rods sprouted from the armored nosecone. At that moment, the great missile ignited its nuclear warhead. The nuclear blast unleashed terrible forces, but too far away from the privateer to do it much harm. Then, through the Greenland sensor “eyes,” I saw the gamma and X-rays reach the sprouting rods a millisecond before the nuclear blast destroyed them. The rods focused the gamma and X-rays at the privateer in a coherent beam.

  Those gamma and X-rays raked the alien privateer. The rays shredded and twisted girders and destroyed a few modules outright. In others, I had no doubt any alien beings would die of radiation poisoning.

  An entire fourth of the privateer went dark.

  “You did it,” I said. “You hurt the Min Ve’s ship.”

  “What is your saying?” Argon asked. “It is too little, too late.”

  I cocked my head. I could hear fighting in the corridors. There were Unguls in the ancient site. How long would the handful of Neanderthals and hominids resist them?

  Argon inhaled deeply, shoved off the station and walked solemnly toward me. He still looked old and worn, having lost much of his majesty in the process.

  “What’s the next move?” I asked.

  “Remember,” he said in a tired voice, “the Starcore has the terrible power of mental domination. You have one hope against the construct, in case you ever come into its presence. Your own Rax Prime crystal can act as a hindrance to the mental d
omination for a time. That will render your crystal mute during the process.”

  “Ah…okay,” I said, wondering what that was about.

  “I have one play left,” Argon said quietly. “I can harden the Min Ve’s mind against the Starcore’s domination. I doubt—”

  The Polarion looked up at the giant screen.

  I turned around as my stomach tightened. The privateer launched a missile of its own. I’d seen the type before. The Min Ve was playing hardball. He had launched another hell-burner. It drifted from the girder-module spaceship, forced away through cold propulsion.

  “You must leave,” Argon told me abruptly.

  “I’m taking Debby with me,” I said.

  Argon cocked his head as if seeing something. He sighed a moment later, shaking his head.

  “You gave it your all,” I said. “Now—”

  The Polarion moved toward me as his hands glowed. Something must have radiated from him to me. I was frozen. He reached me, took hold and did something I couldn’t perceive. Then, faster than it had ever happened before, the underground Greenland chamber began to fade from my sight.

  -48-

  I reappeared on the Guard-ship’s transfer pad. I couldn’t believe it. The Polarion had forced me to teleport by the touch of his hands.

  I had a feeling it hadn’t been that easy. Did Argon truly possess godlike powers?

  I staggered off the pad and hurried to the piloting chamber.

  “Logan,” Rax said in surprise. “How did you get aboard?”

  I told him in as few as words as I could. Afterward, I asked, “What’s happening with the hell-burner?”

  “A moment, please,” Rax said. “I have been out. A form of EMP—”

  “Bring up the scope,” I shouted.

  Rax did. Hot exhaust powered the deadly missile. The hell-burner plunged toward the atmosphere and toward Greenland far below.

  I struck the screen with my fist, but not enough to shatter anything. Why had Argon refused to give me Debby? I could have saved her. Now, it was too late.

  A small part of me wondered if the Polarion had a last trick up his sleeve.

  “The Min Ve appears to be teleporting Unguls up from the surface,” Rax said.

  “Can you get a fix on them? Maybe we can teleport Debby out of their grasp.”

  “What makes you think the Unguls had time to capture her?”

  I didn’t have an answer, but I did have a gut feeling.

  The hell-burner couldn’t reach the surface all at once. It took time to leave the orbital vessel, race through space and the atmosphere, and reach Greenland. At last, though, the hell-burner screamed for the surface. It plunged down, down, and right before reaching snow, the warhead blew. I saw everything on the Guard-ship’s scope.

  The warhead burst apart, but there was no thermonuclear explosion. The missile smashed against the surface. The velocity caused the rest of the missile to shred into nothing. But there was still no explosion.

  “I do not understand this,” Rax said.

  “Argon is holding the blast at bay,” I whispered in awe.

  “What does that mean?” Rax asked.

  Before I could explain, a titanic explosion caused a mighty mushroom cloud to bloom in Greenland. Argon had lost the battle. Did that mean the Polarion, Debby and any prehistoric people still stuck in the stasis tubes were dead? Had the Min Ve beamed up all his people in time, or had a number of Unguls perished in the devastating nuclear blast?

  My chest hurt. I couldn’t believe a being as powerful as Argon could have lost.

  “It’s over,” I said.

  “I do not agree,” Rax said. “I am preparing our own nuclear weapon. I am…”

  I heard the hesitation in his speech. I hardly cared now. Would the latest hell-burner start a nuclear war between Earth’s superpowers? Maybe the first hell-burner had ignited without any Earth people other than me noticing. It was certain the second had focused the world’s attention. The world’s premier soldiers must have seen this one, too. I felt a bitter taste of defeat in my mouth.

  “Logan, I am going against my better judgment in telling you this,” Rax said. “I can guess with a high degree of probability what your reaction will be. Yet, I need your command to do this, given that we are working under the Antares Clause.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I have located Debby.”

  I looked up. “She’s alive?”

  “Indeed,” Rax said. “She is on the privateer. Do I have your permission to teleport our nuclear device onto the Min Ve vessel? We must do so immediately if we wish to achieve success.”

  “The device would kill Debby, right?”

  “Affirmative,” Rax said.

  “No, you don’t have my permission. I want to save Debby.”

  “Yes, I realize that. But, Logan—”

  “Can it,” I said. I could feel the energy flowing back into my body. It told me what I needed to know concerning Debby. Sure, I’d seen the silver eyes, and I know what Argon had said about her. But if I could save her, I could use her to help me destroy the Starcore. Then she would be free to be Debby again. I liked her—a lot. Ever since my divorce, I’d been searching for a good woman. That night in Far Butte with Debby had solidified something in me. I couldn’t just toss that away.

  “We only have a few minutes to do this,” Rax said. “I detect rapid repairs over there. If we wait to thrash this out—”

  “I said no,” I told him. “I’m going to rescue her. Did the Min Ve beam up Argon, too?”

  “Who?” Rax asked.

  “The Polarion,” I said.

  “Unknown,” Rax said.

  “Do you know Debby’s location on the privateer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then beam her here. What are you waiting for?”

  “The privateer could detect such a teleportation—”

  “Now, Rax,” I said, “teleport her here now.”

  “I am initiating—no, it is too late. A shield has energized.”

  I studied my screen. I could see the shield as a dull glow around the orbital vessel. I made a few manipulations on the screen. I was starting to get the hang of this.

  “According to this,” I said, “the shield is at seven percent of its former strength.”

  “That is true,” Rax said.

  “Seven percent is enough to stop teleportation rays?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s knock down the shield,” I said.

  Rax did not respond.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” I said. “If you don’t want to help me, fine. I’m going to—”

  “Logan,” Rax said. “Desist at once.”

  I had brought up the fighter controls. I hesitated for just a second, though.

  “There is a better process,” Rax told me.

  “Better start talking while you can,” I said, “because I’m about to go postal on you.”

  “I do not understand your reference.”

  “What’s your better process?” I asked.

  “The privateer’s shield is at eight percent of its former strength and climbing. We will have to attempt this at once. If the shield reaches fourteen percent of its former strength, our odds for success will be so low that I would mandate a cancelation of the effort.”

  “Rax!” I said.

  “You must head for the teleportation chamber. There is a stealth-suit in the number three locker. I also suggest you take weapons two, three and nine. They will be in the number four locker.”

  I jumped up, heading for the hatch, taking Rax with me.

  “What’s the plan?” I asked.

  “I will attack a small portion of the shield with a sonic drill. It is a Galactic Guard commando technique. At the precise instant I do this, I shall make a tight-wave transfer onto the enemy vessel. At the present shield strength, that gives us a fifty-eight percent probability of success.”

  “That low?” I asked.

  “It is a hi
ghly dangerous technique. But I am assuming you are willing to try nearly anything to rescue the Earth woman.”

  “I’ll try a fifty-eight percent commando attack,” I said, “especially since I don’t have anything else I can try.”

  “That had been my internal prediction concerning your answer,” Rax said.

  “Unless…” I said. “I can capture the Starcore and make a trade for Debby.”

  “I cannot believe you are serious. That must be yet another attempt at crude Earth humor on your part.”

  “That last hell-burner means we’re almost out of options. What good is it if I win and the Earth is a radioactive mess? I want to have a home to come back to.”

  I’d entered the transfer chamber. I now opened the number three locker, finding a strange sort of suit and bubble helmet.

  “This is the stealth suit?” I asked.

  “Affirmative,” Rax said. “You must put it on while I instruct you in its functions.”

  I would have a three-hour supply of air, and could run the camouflage unit for a combined length of sixty-seven minutes. It also had a bulky hydrogen pack, allowing me short spurts of spaceflight. The boots had a switch that magnetized the soles.

  The combination suit was heavy, and it wasn’t a perfect fit, binding me because it was too small for my stature. Still, it would work.

  “We are moving too slowly,” Rax said. “The privateer’s shield is at eleven percent and climbing.”

  “What’s next?” I shouted, the words reverberating inside the bubble helmet. I would mourn Argon later. I was sure the Polarion had died. I did remember Argon saying something about helping the Min Ve break the Starcore’s hold over him. That kept itching in the back of my mind as my subconscious worked out a plan. Before I let myself think about that plan, I wanted Debby safely aboard the Guard-ship.

  I also had time to worry about this spacewalking attack. I had a bad feeling that this wasn’t the best way to learn how to use a space-slash-stealth-suit. But I didn’t have a choice if I was going to rescue Debby. That was one of the reasons I was going to take Rax with me. He could keep an eye on the suit and tell me before I attempted something that would kill me.

  I grabbed grenades, a dual-purpose rifle and several magnetic mines. It seemed like far too little against the Min Ve and his remaining crew.