Universal Code

by William Songy

  “She nearly died trying to get everyone home. I can’t just leave her. I want to be there for her,” he looked at Joseph, “if they can’t bring me back when she is better, can you come get me in a few weeks? I don’t mind the etutu,” he said.

  Joseph gave a nod. Before meeting any of these people, he had no idea that any living thing could care or have compassion for another living thing. All he had known was death, brutality, and his struggle for survival. The Tisht cared for nothing. They were a heartless race driven by the desire for power and wealth. Unlike the Tisht, it was clear that these people did care about one another. He hoped to understand more about that in his lifetime. But, for now, his default emotion would be hate. Until the Roo’kall and the Tisht were dead, he would have to be this way. Joseph couldn’t deny that he felt something for these people he didn’t understand. They would die for him. And now, he would die for them too. For the first time in his young life, he felt that he was no longer alone. There was a true sense of something…he believed they referred to it as hope. He took on the burden of being the hope for them. He would find a way to rid the universe of the Kasadu.

  “Take care of her. I will be looking for you real soon,” Logan said as the two men hugged. Logan walked away visibly emotional about the situation with Astrid.

  Ayla was by Gunner’s side and kissed his cheek while avoiding the blood on his clothes, “Remember, we have to go spearfishing,” she said referring to nearly knocking him over the head on the day they met on the abandoned rig.

  “I think I know just the place for that,” Gunner said with a tight-lipped smile. He stopped at the door, turned back and looked at everyone once more and gave a wave of his hand before walking away. The move seemed to suggest that they would never see him again. Logan watched his friend until the door was closed. He paused and silently prayed for Astrid. Ayla slid her fingers between his and grabbed his hand. They returned to their seats and strapped in for the ride back to Earth.

  The thrusters on the Tuega kicked in and the huge transport came to an unusually quick stop. The bay door flew open just as the Bru’s thrusters fired up. Without warning, the passengers sank deep into the seat cushions and were unable to move. They were out of the hanger before any of the passengers realized that they had achieved liftoff. The ear-piercing sound of the thrusters subsided.

  “Dang, they could have warned us!” Ayla yelled. Her ears were ringing.

  They looked on in silence as their beloved planet grew larger by the second. At the time of liftoff, it resembled the same pea-size planet from the hologram hovering over the beok earlier in the afternoon. Now, it was larger than a grapefruit and growing rapidly.

  “This is freaking awesome!” Logan yelled out.

  “I…thought you hated space travel?” Ayla said.

  “Yeah, but this is cool. I didn’t get to see Earth when we left. Seeing it like this from space is a heck of an experience.”

  The planet continued to grow until they could make out the Atlantic Ocean and the North American continent. The Bru drastically reduced its speed as it came upon the Earth’s atmosphere and without hesitation plunged toward the surface. The turbulence was mild and was no worse than a typical airplane at thirty-thousand feet. For Logan and Ayla, it was far better than the flight to Miami. The morning was clear, no clouds could be seen in their immediate area. The Atlantic expanded and the deep waters of the ocean was all they could see in any direction.

  “This must have been the dead zone Astrid was talking about,” Logan said. He wondered if the zones were indicated on the beok. If the Viennin government knew where they were, then it was likely that others did as well. They would have to make sure that government officials were aware of any dead zones.

  The Bru leveled off and was coasting briskly to the west. Like tourists, they all looked about at the ocean below them. It was so nice to be back on Earth even if they hadn’t touched the ground yet. To the port, a small hook-shaped island came into view.

  “Bermuda,” Logan noted.

  Ayla smiled and nodded simply agreeing with him. The Bru unexpectedly came to a halt and was hovering. The Bru rolled as a laser shot past the port side. It nosed starboard and dove toward the ocean. Fear of the unknown spread amongst the passengers. Was diving into the water a tactical maneuver? Were they being attacked? Was it the Tisht? Were they already assaulting the planet? What was happening? they all wondered.

  Brief weightlessness was abruptly followed by being pinned back in their seats once again. The Bru plunged into the deep-blue rolling waves of the Atlantic. The force of the impact at such speeds seemed to confirm that they had been hit and were making a crash landing. The impact would have destroyed any modern aircraft on Earth. But the Bru seemed unaffected and continued tactical maneuvers underwater.

  The observation windows were covered by large metal panels that moved into place when the first laser was fired at them. They were no longer able to see anything. The Bru was now more like a coffin and claustrophobia began to affect Ayla’s mind. She tried unsuccessfully to brush it off refusing to give into it. Regardless, it was beginning to have its way. She wanted out of the Bru, even if it meant being let out on an abandoned rig with aliens on it.

  They realized that the craft nosed upward. They could feel the jolt of propulsion as the Bru was liberated from the resistance of the saltwater. G-forces and gravity pinned in their seats once again. An explosion caused the Bru to rock for a second, then seemed to resume its controlled flight.

  “Were we hit?” Sonia asked.

  There was a second explosion, this time the Bru remained steady. The large metal panels on the Bru lowered and natural light flooded into the spacecraft again. Aft they could see two Imil Nomos. They could only assume that they shot down whatever it was that had been pursuing them. The reality that their presence was no longer a secret began to set in. There was no doubt that someone picked up on whatever it was that had just occurred. The three, not so unidentified spacecraft, at least to the Americans on board, turned back toward the mainland United States. They no longer seemed to care about being detected or seen. The enemy, or at least its scouts, were already on the planet. Where was the rest of the fleet? How long until the Kasadu forces would invade Earth like they had Econ? Logan pondered.

  “At our current speed, we should be in Washington D.C. before anyone there could do so much as pull their britches up from their ankles,” Logan said. The two Imil Nomos were no longer visible.

  Success was now dependent upon how they would be received. Just as soon as the thought entered his mind, the Bru slowed down as they were approached from the East by what Logan recognized was three F-22 Raptors.

  “Well, the NAVY sent out a welcome committee,” Logan said.

  Within minutes they could see the planes take formation around them as they were intent on intercepting the craft. Two flanked the Bru as one flew on the starboard side. The pilot seemed to take a few seconds observing the craft attempting to discern from where it was being controlled.

  Up to this point, Ariel had interacted very little with either the Viennians, Sonia, or Ayla. She was very shy and seemed to have a difficult time with the fears and trauma she had endured. After a while, it was understood that if and when she wanted to talk, they would simply need to be there for her. But, for the most part, she sat and observed very rarely taking part in a conversation. She threw off her lap belt and rose from the seat. The girl was dressed in long pants and a blue button-up shirt in a style native to the Viennin children. Ariel walked over to the observation window and looked out at the pilot. He seemed to notice her and gave her an odd look. She lifted her hand and waved as she observed her new friends doing on occasion. He hesitantly waved back acknowledging that he had, in fact, seen her. She could see him talking in a little thing by his mouth, she assumed it was about her. The pilot looked up, then back at her. She gave a second wave, to which he responded.

  The F-22 increased its altitude as if realizing where the control
center was on the Bru. It rocked back and forth and its lights flashed on and off. Logan assumed that they were not able to establish any radio communication, “He is telling the pilot that he is intercepting the craft and wants them to follow him.” He looked at the two sidewinder missiles and wondered if the pilot would use them. Logan wasn’t sure what kind of damage the 20mm Gatlin gun would do to the Bru if the pilot was ordered to take them down if the alien craft refused to comply. Logan walked up beside Ariel and wanted to get the attention of the pilot himself. He wanted to at least try to let them know that they were American. Otherwise, they may be shot down before reaching the mainland.

  “What will he do if they don’t,” Ayla asked watching the F-22 intently.

  “I’m not sure. Do you have a marker or something?” he asked.

  Ayla rummaged through her purse, “I have two tubes of lipstick.”

  He held out his hand and grabbed them, then ran back to the window while pulling the cap off the first container of red lipstick. He wrote backward in nine-inch letters so that the pilot could read his message, “Americans.” The first stick was empty, so he tossed the casing aside. With the second container of reddish-brown lipstick, he simply wrote, “Onboard!”

  The frustrated pilot seemed to see the message and decreased his altitude enough to read it. Logan, with Ariel still by his side, was standing by the message. The pilot began to speak again and increased his altitude. The F-22 rocked back and forth again.

  Without warning, Logan and Ariel left their feet and were flying backward in the Bru. Both helplessly slammed against the rear wall unable to move. G-forces, once again, had them pinned. Something was stabbing Logan in the center of his back. He tried to move but was unable to do anything about it. The only immediate remedy was simply trying to arch his back to minimize the pressure. He continued to look out the window. From his vantage point, the F-22 was no longer on the Starboard side of the Bru. The spacecraft slowed down and was hovering. Logan and Ariel fell to the floor face first. She stood then moved slowly back to her seat with Stephen’s help. Logan stood and looked back and saw that he had broken a switch that served an unknown purpose. It was a broken piece that was stabbing him. He walked cautiously to the window. The sharp pain in his back was not dissipating, but he brushed it off for the moment.

  They had ditched the F-22s and were in Washington D.C. Logan looked down and noticed some of the vehicles were having mechanical failure. The unaffected vehicles were moving off down the interstate as if oblivious of what was taking place. He was relieved to see the line of cars, which he assumed were stalled by an EMP. To his relief, there was no visible evidence of a crash, “Whatever they did must have worked,” he said.

  People were getting out of their cars, talking to one another. Some with open palms to the air while shaking their heads in confusion. The hoods on a Ram pickup and Jeep Wrangler were being opened. It seemed as if the pilot of the Bru decided to make the spacecraft visible once again as the motorists stopped talking and looked up. Terror seemed to be the default expression. The citizens froze as if not knowing what to do or where to go.

  Once the line of vehicles moved on creating enough room, the Bru descended slowly and touched down on the interstate taking up three lanes. Logan wondered briefly if the elevated interstate would be able to hold something the size of the Bru. It touched down and after a second, he felt a sense of confidence as there was no cave in.

  He looked out and could see the Capitol Building, “We are in D.C.” he noted. “Right over South Capitol Street. It was smart of the pilot to set the craft down between the on and off-ramps. Traffic is building up in both directions regardless, even under the overpass. We wanted eyeballs. Well, I think plenty of them are on us,” he noted as countless arms began popping out of the driver and passenger side windows of cars, tour buses and the windows of the surrounding buildings as cameras and cellphones were pointed at them. It was partly what they had hoped for. He saw the helicopter of a local news network’s traffic division as the cameraman was focused on them from an open door on the passenger side. In the distance, he could see the familiar lights of local law enforcement as they attempted fruitlessly to gain access to the interstate where the alien craft was perched. Two Black Hawk helicopters approached from the southwest. He knew that the Marine barracks were less than a mile from their location.

  It was time to do something. This was his idea, now he was unsure of exactly what to do. He couldn’t just pop out of the door and do something along the lines of Bill Murray’s character in Ghost Busters when he addressed the crowd before being swallowed up by the broken asphalt from the road while on his way in to catch a ghost. Logan knew that he would deserve to be shot for being that stupid. Too much was at stake here and they needed to be taken seriously. He saw the armed Marines as they approached on foot weaving through the traffic and yelling at everyone to leave the area. Teams were trying to move the congestion off the bridge and the surrounding area. In minutes they would be surrounded. Ariel was no longer just standing next to him; out of fear, she wrapped her scrawny arms around his waist. The armed guards seemed to trigger one of the many horrific memories of the abused child. He had no choice but to be strong, if for no other reason, for her.

  Logan knew his people and what would be waiting for him if he or any of them were to step off the craft. Muzzles would instantly be thrust in their faces, they would be thrown to the ground, cuffed, and drug off. Eventually they would be questioned and weeks later after an exhaustive investigation, maybe they would be released, or incarcerated on a number of bogus charges.

  His real fear was Joseph. He had the ability to kill them all and would do so if they threatened him or placed a finger on Sonia. Would his reaction be limited to the soldiers or all the people in the area? He didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. Stoke his anger in any way, make him flashback to his captivity of the Tisht, give him any cause at all, and there would be mass casualties that would instantly create an irrevocable trust. They would be seen as the enemy and the military would be forced to use every possible asset at its disposal to destroy the threat. No matter what happened from that point forward, none of the kids would understand America’s version of authority. The government officials saw themselves as the authority and the kids would not see it this way. One overzealous Federal agent or Marine could ruin everything when it came to Joseph. If the stories were true, he had killed hundreds of Tisht without lifting a finger. What could he do to a human? Logan prayed that he wouldn’t find out.

  Logan’s thoughts began to cause paralysis. This first interaction would be vitally important and there was no room for error. It was fairly obvious that the Black Hawks had taken position over the Bru and were hovering aft and over the bridge. The thought of them containing the Bru was nearly laughable. They had no idea what they were dealing with.

  He could faintly hear a loudspeaker attempting to communicate but could not understand what was being directed toward them. Logan composed himself and considered an option. He quickly realized that it was the only way. He walked over to the door and placed his hand over the display that would give the command to the Bru to open the door and lower the gangplank. He held it there for a second, took a deep breath, then slammed his hand down.

  From the Author

  Thank you for reading this story. I truly hope you like and were entertained by it. If you have enjoyed Universal Code, we would greatly appreciate it if you would leave a review.

  The original concept of this story came about twenty-seven years prior to its completion. While I initially wrote a portion of the first draft, I put it aside and considered many aspects of it for years until I was ready to pick it up and complete it.

  The purpose of the story is for entertainment and not to force any particular viewpoint or belief on the reader. While I have looked into many cases of UFO sightings and various accounts by members of the military, commercial pilots and others, none of it has influenced this story. Thank you again.r />
  About the Author

  As an author, William Songy’s desire is to present clean subject matter that is not driven by profanity and sexual content. He strives to accurately depict historical norms within societies and the flaws of the human condition. His stories are designed to engage the imperfections of man that ultimately result in the redemption of the human spirit. He lives in South Louisiana with his wife and children. He is also the author of Open Windows and Beyond This Realm.

  Universal Code

  Book Two

  Chapter 1

  Logan’s thoughts began to cause paralysis. This first interaction would be vitally important and there was no room for error. It was fairly obvious that the Black Hawks had taken position over the Bru and were hovering aft and over the bridge. The thought of them containing the Bru was nearly laughable. They had no idea what they were dealing with.

  He could faintly hear a loudspeaker attempting to communicate but could not understand what was being directed toward them. Logan composed himself and considered an option. He quickly realized that it was the only way. He walked over to the door and placed his hand over the display that would give the command to the Bru to open the door and lower the gangplank. He held it there for a second, took a deep breath, then slammed his hand down.

  The door unsealed and quickly disappeared into the metal pocket on the exterior wall. For the first time in two weeks since leaving Econ, the sun penetrated his eyes nearly blinding him. Logan reflexively squinted and held up his left arm to provide relief giving no consideration for the soldiers awaiting contact with the alien vessel.

  The unmistakable beating of the rotors of the hovering Black Hawks seemed to drown out all other sounds, including that of Ayla who was reaching out to pull him back in order to try and get him to reconsider his seemingly lackluster plan. Two weeks of consideration of the proper protocol to follow and it was all flushed down the toilet. Tired of weighing the pros and cons of every possibility, Logan decided the only way was simply to step up and confront one person at a time if that was the way fate would have it. He looked back and read her lips as she did her best to keep the long brown hair out of her face as it danced around in multiple directions from the downdraft of the helicopter. In that moment, he wondered if it would be the last time he ever saw her again. Perhaps, it would be the last time anyone ever saw him again. How Logan wished that he could hear her voice one more time before being taken, which was certain to happen.