The Unlikely Defenders

by Scott Haworth

“Where are they headed?” Dyer demanded.

  “We’re tracking them all over North America, sir.”

  “Missiles?” Dyer inquired.

  The general hesitated before responding, “Maybe, sir. We don’t know. They should be reaching ground level shortly.”

  “Oh good, so we’ll know in a minute when our cities start evaporating!” Dyer yelled. “Is it just here? Somebody call Europe!” he ordered. He immediately realized how silly the request sounded.

  “Sir, NORAD is now tracking a large group of… objects heading towards Washington D.C.!” the general shouted.

  “We need to get you out of here right now,” Bill said, grabbing Dyer’s arm.

  “No,” Dyer responded simply.

  “This is no time to be heroic. Continuity of government is the most important—”

  “This is not a question of heroism,” Dyer responded coolly. He pointed towards one of the electronic maps that was tracking the objects over the United States and Canada. The objects were so dense that it was becoming impossible to look at one individually. “There’s no place else to go!”

  “You’re slacking off. You’re not putting enough power behind it!” Nick shouted.

  “Maybe that’s because it’s ninety goddamn degrees out here!” Anthony yelled back from the other end of the court. “Are we done having fun yet? Feels like we’ve been out here for hours.”

  Nick checked his wristwatch. “It’s been about twenty minutes.”

  Anthony groaned loud enough for Nick to hear it on the other side of the court. He walked over to the bench where they had left a couple of bottles of water. With a heavy sigh he sat down, opened a bottle and chugged most of the water. He tossed the other bottle to Nick who was approaching from the other end of the court.

  “Pathetic,” Nick scolded.

  “Insane,” replied Anthony.

  “You know if you spent a little more time—”

  Nick did not get a chance to finish his sentence. A series of deafening noises broke the relative calm. Startled, Anthony fell backwards off the bench and winced as his back hit the ground hard. Nick ran around from the other side and crouched down next to his best friend.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Anthony screamed.

  Nick could not hear his friend over the noise. He was too busy looking up at the sky, the source of the explosions, to notice that his friend had asked a question. The terrible noise continued for over a minute before slowing tapering off.

  Anthony pushed himself off the ground and kneeled next to Nick. “Terrorists?” he asked. He knew the suggestion was silly, but he was not sure how else to explain the phenomenon.

  Nick shook his head. “Reminds me of when I lived out in Dayton near the Air Force base. They weren’t supposed to do it, but occasionally the jet pilots would go supersonic over the city. That’s what that sounded like to me,” he said as he pointed towards the sky. “Sonic booms. But there were so many of them…”

  They were both startled for the second time in five minutes by a loud crash. They turned their heads in time to watch as a metallic tube scrapped along the court and came to a stop right before the net. There was a small dent at the start of the court where it had initially landed and a narrow rough patch which marked its path, but other than that there was no damage.

  “What do you think…” Anthony began. He trailed off as Nick started to jog over to the tube. “Or we can run over and look at it. That’s not reckless or anything,” he muttered to himself.

  After Anthony arrived at the tube, Nick shot him a look as if to say, what took you so long?

  Nick decided the tube looked like a space age coffin after examining it for a moment. From tip to tail it was only about four feet long and completely black. Its width was even less than that, which made the tube appear to be very slender. The main frame of the object seemed to be made out of steel, but there was a window at the top that appeared to be plastic or glass.

  Nick slowly lowered his hand towards the plastic window. He touched it with the tip of his index finger and then rested his whole palm on the window. Confident that he was not going to get burned, Nick cupped his hands around his eyes and lowered his face towards the window.

  “Hey maybe you should—” Anthony began to object.

  “I can’t see anything, it’s tinted,” Nick said, cutting his friend off.

  “You think there’s something in there?”

  Before Nick could respond the tube emitted a hiss and the window suddenly popped open horizontally. The two young men instinctively jumped back: Nick towards the front of the tube and Anthony towards the back.

  Nick did not gasp or shriek when the creature emerged from the pod. It lumbered out very slowly, but Nick was too fascinated to react. The creature was only about three feet tall. Most of its body was a bright green color except for its underbelly which was quite dark. Its head was large for its body and in the shape of an equilateral triangle pointing towards the ground. On either side of its head were two large globes that Nick assumed were eyes. On top of its head, in between the two large globes, were two antennae that were parallel and stood straight up. Its body was bulbous and supported by four slender legs. Farther up its body two large forearms jutted out from its abdomen. The creature was mostly covered by a red robe although its arms, legs and head were completely exposed. On top of its back was a small pack that looked similar to a book bag.

  The creature arched its back in order to stand more erect as it stared up at Nick. It slowly moved its right forearm into the pack on its back and retrieved something small and metallic. It moved the object towards the joint that separated the top and bottom of its forearm. It then turned its elbow towards Nick.

  Nick realized too late that the object was a weapon. Before he could react the creature jerked its forearm back, firing a blast of energy from the gun. The energy zoomed past Nick’s ear and crashed into the top of a tree behind him. To Nick it appeared as only a simultaneous flash of light and crackling of a tree. The energy from the Kessiam’s gun traveled at the speed of light: 186,000 miles per second. Luckily the alien had missed, as there would be no dodging that kind of projectile.

  The Kessiam did not get a second chance. Behind him, Anthony had reacted immediately once he perceived a threat to Nick. After grabbing his tennis racket in both hands, he raised it up and smashed it down on the alien’s head. A loud crunching noise corresponded with the impact. The Kessiam crumbled to the ground while spurting dark red blood onto the tennis court. Its forearm twitched several times, but after a moment the alien was completely still.

  Anthony sneered at the blood and brain matter on his tennis racket. He shook it several times before turning to look at Nick. Being young and far more imaginative, Anthony accepted reality more easily than the generals in the Situation Room of the White House. “So… aliens are invading.”

  “Yeah,” Nick responded while he examined the Kessiam’s corpse. He reached down and picked up the alien weapon. “It used its… elbow… joint thingy to shoot at me.”

  “Makes sense,” Anthony said, kicking the creatures forearm. “It doesn’t have any fingers,”

  The two men stared at the creature for a moment before Anthony again spoke. “I’d just like to take a moment and point out the fact that we are looking at the body of a giant praying mantis wearing a toga. Seems odd to me. Just wanted to say it out loud,”

  Nick turned his attention to the weapon. “Looked like a rifle when that thing was holding it, but it’s more the size of a pistol to us,” he said while slipping his fingers around the gun.

  The weapon was indeed similar to a pistol albeit with a shorter barrel. There was also no apparent trigger or trigger guard. After a second Nick found a small round button at the base of the gun about where the trigger would be compressed to when firing a human pistol. Nick pointed the weapon at a spot on the ground about ten feet away and pressed the button. A cloud of dirt immediately erupted from the ground.

  “Cool,�
� Nick said.

  New sounds caught Nick’s attention before he could test fire the weapon again. All at once there was banging, crashing and screaming coming from all directions.

  “Vicky!” Nick shouted. He set off in the direction of campus at full speed, pumping his arms while at the same time careful to avoid pressing the alien pistol’s tiny button.

  “Wait,” Anthony said even though he knew it would be no use. He knew Nick’s only concern was protecting Victoria.

  Anthony’s only concern was protecting Nick. Without any hesitation he set off after his best friend, bloody tennis racket still in hand.

  A year before the Kessiam invasion, Anthony watched Nick longingly from the patio of their apartment. Nick was standing in the kitchen, talking with the two guys from next door. It would have been a completely normal scene had all three not been dressed like pirates. Both the neighbors would have traditionally been considered more attractive than Nick. It did not matter to Anthony. Nick was the focus of his attention, like it always was.

  “All the good men are either taken or gay. Present company included.”

  Anthony turned to find his friend Cynthia making a pouty face. He raised his bottle of Miller Light and bowed his head at the compliment. “No luck at all?”

  “None,” Cynthia responded with a dramatic sigh. “Thought I had one for a few minutes there. He told me he was a musician, and you know how I’m a sucker for a hot guy in a band.”

  “Aren’t we all,” Anthony responded slyly. “So what happened?”

  “Turns out he’s a drummer.”

  “Bummer.”

  “I know,” Cynthia said. She moved next to Anthony and slipped her arm around his waist. “I give up. I’ll just be your fag hag forever.”

  Anthony patted her hand. “There, there. There, there,” he said robotically.

  From her new position Cynthia could observe Nick and the others in the kitchen. After a moment she shook her head in disgust. “All three are pirates. That’s so unoriginal. They’re totally missing the point of Halloween.”

  Anthony said nothing as a pair of scantily clad young girls walked past. When they were out of range he finally said, “I thought the entire point of Halloween was for girls to dress like whores,” he said. He paused and made a point to look at Cynthia’s plunging neckline. “Present company included.”

  Cynthia raised her own bottle of Miller Light and bowed her head. “You are so kind to notice, sir. But who do you think you’re kidding? If Nick was dressed like a slutty pirate instead of just a regular pirate, you’d be having a great time.”

  “Please, he’s my best friend I don’t think about him like that,” Anthony responded, trying to sound convincing.

  “Oh honey, that’s so cute,” Cynthia’s said. The tone of her voice was raised as if she was talking to a puppy or a baby. “You couldn’t be any more obvious. Anyone that is around you two for more than twenty minutes knows you’re in love with him. You’ve got to let it go. He’s never going to be able to reciprocate. He’s part of the 92% of the population who aren’t gigantic flaming pillow biters. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Anthony said, narrowing his eyes at Cynthia. “Though it may come as a shock to you I have, in fact, already come to that conclusion.”

  “Then why are you still here?” Cynthia asked, motioning towards the apartment. “This isn’t healthy. You need to move out and stay away from him. Find someone who could actually be into you,” she argued. She paused while a new idea formed in her head. “You need to ditch the pirate… and find yourself a butt pirate.”

  “Good one.”

  “Thanks, it just came to me.”

  “It’s a lovely suggestion. It’s a perfectly logical and rational idea… but I can’t.” Anthony said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because no matter how painful it is or how crazy it makes me, I’d rather be near him and not have him than not be around him at all.”

  Cynthia turned back to look at the kitchen. Her tone softened as she continued. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, especially considering what a depressing conversation we’re already having,” she said. She tipped her bottle of beer towards the patio window.

  Anthony turned away and looked in the direction she was pointing. Inside the kitchen Nick was pressed up against the wall and barely visible. His body was blocked by a girl wearing a catholic schoolgirl outfit. Or, to be more accurate, a slutty catholic schoolgirl outfit. The two were in the middle of a rather voracious make out session.

  Anthony sneered and looked away. Although he was only familiar with the back of her head, he already knew that he hated Victoria Krieg.

  “I’ll raise twenty,” Shawn Humphrey said confidently.

  The three other players answered in rapid succession:

  “Call.”

  “Call.”

  “Call.”

  Damn, Shawn thought to himself. He played poker with this group of scientists at least twice a week. There was little else any of them could do for fun since they were stuck at South Pole Station. All of them had learned to tell when he was bluffing.

  “Trip nines,” said the biologist to Shawn’s left after flipping over his cards.

  “Jack-high straight,” said the scientist next to him.

  “Oh, queen-high straight,” said the meteorologist, Jerry Carrey. He mouthed an insincere apology to the scientist he had just one-upped.

  Shawn sighed as the other three men turned towards him. “Jack high,” he said in resignation. He tossed his cards face down towards the center of the table.

  The other three scientists let out hearty laughs as Jerry raked in the chips and began shuffling the cards.

  Shawn checked his watch although he already knew what time it was. It was still early in the morning or late at night depending on how he looked at it. Shawn set his time to the main American Antarctic research facility, McMurdo Station. McMurdo was in a Pacific time zone as its geography put it right under New Zealand on the map. The actual time did not really matter though as it was dark for the entire day at South Pole Station.

  Shawn was getting bored with the game, which often happened when he was losing. Only three other scientists had been willing to play. It was a disappointing turn out but not an unexpected one. The other scientists wanted to sleep or catch up on their research. Many were simply antisocial, which was not surprising given their decision to come to the most remote part of the planet. Shawn was not tired, and with the internet still down there was nothing else to do. He reluctantly tossed in another ante and lazily pulled in his cards.

  High above Shawn a Kessiam known as Mervny was having a much more interesting time. His short trip through space had been fairly peaceful, despite his anxiety about the upcoming invasion. He knew the trip through the atmosphere of New Mortair was going to be anything but tranquil.

  Mervny was thrown back against the seat as his pod slammed into the atmosphere. The pressure was so intense that he feared he would be killed. I’m going to be squished flat. The primates will open my pod and find a pile of goo! After a moment though the pressure started to subside. Eventually, after a considerable amount of effort, he was able to lift his head and look out the cockpit of his pod.

  The pod itself was a completely unremarkable piece of technology. Originally designed for escape from a severely damaged ship, the pods had been mass produced specifically for the colonization of New Mortair. It had no engine to speak of and almost no electronics. It was initially propelled by its mother ship and then simply glided to its destination. A small joystick in the front of the cabin could be used to control the rudder in the back of the pod. This allowed for minor course corrections near the landing zone. In addition a small oxygen canister towards the rear of his pod pumped enough air into the cabin to prevent suffocation on the short journey.

  The landscape was becoming visible through Mervny’s cockpit window. As his pod dropped through the clouds its lights illuminated the ground he was approa
ching. Unfortunately, it was pure white.

  “Intercourse!” Mervny yelled.

  Mervny and his comrades had not received much in the way of a briefing for the invasion of New Mortair. He had still thought it would be a colonization of the planet until a few hours before he launched. The pod landing had initially been planned to secure and clear large landing zones all over the planet. Mervny and his comrades were tasked with aiding the landing of the large Kessiam ships, which were loaded with people and heavy equipment. Shortly before the initial colonization was to take place, he had been shocked to learn that the heavy equipment would be unnecessary. New Mortair already had an infrastructure.

  Although he had limited information about the planet, he had looked over a map of its geography. Looking down from his pod he immediately realized he was landing in the southernmost continent. It was a frozen wasteland. Right before launch the pods had been programmed by computer to land in accordance with the population density of the primates. For some reason, possibly an error, the computer had sent him to the most inhospitable point on the entire planet.

  Mervny was helpless as his pod descended towards the ground. He rubbed the small amount of clothing he had on, knowing full well it would not protect against the environment in which he was about to find himself. As he fell closer to the ground he had a spark of hope. He was descending towards an artificial structure. It was a sizable building shaped like the letter “E”. He was, of course, unfamiliar with any human alphabets and so only identified the building as a small chance that he might not be dead soon.

  His momentary hope was soon dashed as Mervny realized he was on a course to crash into the “E” building. He jerked at the joystick in an attempt to steer his pod towards the land to the left of the building. The rudder did not respond, and he sat helplessly as his pod plummeted down into the building. It hit the structure hard and skidded fifty feet before coming to a stop at the edge of the roof. The pod teetered momentarily before gravity forced it over the edge. It landed on the tundra face up with a heavy thud.