by SD Tanner
When he glanced above his head hoping for another way out, it filled with black shadows scuttling across it. Another exit blocked. He couldn’t go out through a wall or the ceiling so he scanned the floor beneath his feet. Dirt, nothing other than dirt. There was no underground tunnels, no basement or even a sewerage pipe.
He was so busy looking for a way out he failed to notice the advancing critter. It wouldn’t have made any difference if he had. Under the increasing weight of what must have now been a hundred critters, the roof gave way. Something heavy landed on his head pushing him to the ground. Unable to make out a specific body part, he began punching and kicking under the weight. All he could hear through his helmet was screeching. So many bodies were on top of him that he was more likely to die by being crushed than torn apart. A wide mouth was snapping close to his ear, only to open again as it slid forward. He might not need much air, but he needed some. Struggling to draw each breath, he pushed against the weight on top of him. Moving in any direction was becoming harder until he was finally pinned to the floor.
“Tiana…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:
Enemy Line
(Dunk Three)
“Why?”
The tall alien reached one long arm to his, wrapping his slender fingers around his bicep. Pulling him from the ground, he slipped on the floor as he tried to find his footing.
“How are you here?”
Another tall younger looking alien was standing behind the elder. “They have a machine.”
“We broke the machine.”
“They have more than one.”
It was too much to take in all at once. The room had eight chairs seated in a circle. On the walls were reliefs, each with a raised picture. The one in the middle of the back wall was blank, showing only a frame of a picture yet to be carved. Movement in the corner of the room caught his eye. It was low to the ground, scuttling across the floor. When he stared at it, it stopped, picking at something small in front of it. Satisfied, the little black monster began scuttling again until it found something else. If he wasn’t mistaken it was cleaning the floor.
“Is that a critter?” He asked in disbelief.
The tall and older alien casually glanced at the multi-legged creature. “It is a device.” Walking across to the chairs, he waved at him to follow. “Servant.”
He wasn’t sure if the alien had just called him a servant or was referring to the little spider-like creature. Mariana was by his side with her head bowed. It appeared he had little choice other than to do as he was told.
The chair appeared to be a sharp edged block and he wasn’t sure what it was made from. Gingerly sitting on the hard surface, he was surprised when it molded to the shape of his butt. In direct contradiction to its appearance, it was oddly soothing and comfortable.
Seated opposite him, the older alien studied him curiously. “You are less than expected.”
Another movement caught his eye. It was Dunk Two, still bloodied and with a hole in his forehead. He was sitting on a chair to his right between him and the alien. Pursing his lips, Dunk Two looked the alien over. “Don’t trust him.”
“I don’t.”
When the older alien frowned at his comment, the younger one sat on the seat next to him. “Who is he talking to?”
The elder looked at Mariana who was standing outside of the circle. She returned his look, clearly unhappy with what was happening. “There is more than one of him in his mind.”
“Is that usual?”
“No.”
The younger alien gave a sharp cry. “I told you they are not suitable.”
Raising his hand as if to calm him, the elder replied, “They are dangerous.”
“We agree on that.”
Who was dangerous? Did he mean humans or Bombardiers? Was that why they were being attacked? What had they done to deserve annihilation?
“How do you know who we are?” He asked.
The elder leaned back against his strange chair. “We made you.”
“How?”
“You would not understand.”
“Try me.”
Sounding churlish, the younger alien sneered. “Why? You are the last of your kind.”
Dunk Two laughed. “Arrogant little thing, isn’t it?” Rising from his chair, he leaned into the alien studying his face closely. “They’re humanoid. It’s possible they seeded our species, which is why we have similar physical characteristics. Ark Three said they’d learned our language through Mariana, so we know they’re telepathic. She can heal you, so some of them are empaths. Quite a talented bunch. The two sleepers were obviously under their control. They learned about the wormhole through Mariana and woke the sleepers to destroy it. She’s been a bit of nuisance.”
Smirking at his own clear thinking, he nodded. “What do you want from me?”
“Why do you think we want anything?” The elder asked.
Flicking his head at the small critter still picking at bits on the floor, he replied, “If you didn’t then I’m sure your vacuum cleaner would have killed me by now.”
“You are useful.”
“In what way?”
Smoothing the trouser leg of his tunic with his hands, the elder gave him a knowing look. “You defeated our collectors once. We will learn how.”
“Is that what the first critters were? Collectors? Why did you send your collectors to Earth?”
“To harvest.”
“Humans?”
“That is your name for you.”
“What do you call us?”
The elder paused as if struggling to find the right words and Mariana answered for him. “You are the unborn.”
Dunk Two had returned to his seat, his lips pursed unhappily. “We were seeded, but we don’t know why. If they call us their unborn, then maybe they need our bodies. Maybe this is how they procreate.”
He felt his own lip curling in disgust. “We’re not brainless. You can’t just take over our bodies.”
“We know. You are…emptied first.”
“Is that what the sleepers were? Emptied bodies.”
After glancing at Mariana, the elder nodded. “You killed our unborn. You destroyed our ships.”
The first war against the critters was legendary, albeit unbelievable. According to history, the aliens had sent two ships. One had hovered over New York and the other over Albuquerque. They’d blown them to pieces using nuclear missiles. Dunk had taken the technology from the ships, learning how to transform cells into Bombardiers and other weapons. Feeling the thrill of discovery, he realized the tall and pale man sitting opposite him was the face of their enemy.
“Are we your only nursery?”
The elder shared a glance with the younger alien next to him. “No.”
“So, why bother with us? Why not move on? What else do you want?”
Dunk Two nodded in approval, making blood trickle down the side of his nose. “Good question.”
Sighing as if tired, the elder stared back at him. “Our planet died. We need this one.”
“There are plenty of planets in the universe. Why ours?”
“Your species evolved on that planet. It is most suitable for your body type.”
“What happened to your planet?”
“It…it was used.”
Was that how it worked? Planets had a lifespan shorter than the universe intended. He supposed that could be true. As the resources of a planet depleted it began to die. Prior to the alien war Earth had been dying. Polar caps were melting, oxygen was reducing, and pollution had damaged the ozone layer allowing radiation from the sun to poison the land. Some cities were so polluted people wore facemasks to stop their lungs from burning. Viruses were mutating and it was only a question of time before disease would have wiped out much of the population.
“So, you wrecked your own planet and now you want to steal ours.”
His sharp remark seemed to surprise the elder alien. “No. Your species belongs to us. We made yo
u for us. It is not your planet. It took many years for our ships to bring us here. It is time to claim our home.”
Anger was coursing through his body. He wasn’t a soldier like his brother, but the alien’s logic had deeply offended him a way he couldn’t explain. “You don’t own us.”
His fiercely spoken words seemed to surprise the elder. “You are…embryos. Not developed.”
Glancing at Mariana, he said, “You think we’re your unborn children.”
She shook her head. “Not all. Most are not suitable. Those are destroyed.”
Dunk Two rose to his feet pointing his finger at the older alien. “You know what they think we are?” Without waiting to hear his reply, his lips pulled back from his teeth as he spat out the next words. “We’re cells. Just like we grow billions of them to find the thousands we can use, they grow billions of us to find the ones they want.” Working himself into an even deeper bitter rage, he whirled to face the older alien. “You use us to procreate. It’s your way of being immortal. Wear out a planet, move to the next one. Wear out a body, take another!”
Unlike his dead clone, his face remained impassive. The chair he was sitting on had molded comfortably around both his rear and the gun nestled into the trouser belt of his tunic. When the image of his weapon flitted through his mind, he heard Mariana take a sharp breath. “Don’t.”
His unspoken word made Mariana move away from the circle until she was standing closer to the door. He might be armed, but shooting one alien wouldn’t save Earth.
“We’re sentient beings. We are aware. What you’re doing is murder.”
The elder gave him a cold stare. “Survival of the fittest.”
One of Dunk’s favorite sayings had been survival of the smartest. Giving the alien a sly smile, he replied, “Are you smarter than us?”
Speaking slowly as if he were a child, the elder replied, “We made you.”
He was implying they couldn’t be smarter than their creator was. He didn’t have an argument against that logic, only a belief that it was wrong. Dunk had been right to hunt for the aliens. By always having the upper hand, they were used to winning. He wanted to assure them they’d overplayed their cards, but he didn’t have any evidence it was true. Dunk had been a very clever man. Just like these aliens, he planted a seed in his descendants, but it remained to be seen if they could beat the creatures twice. They’d sent critters and ships, only to be defeated by Ark and Dunk and neither man was truly gone. He was Dunk and Ark Three was his grandfather.
Leaning back against his chair, feeling the hard metal of the gun against his back, he smiled slyly. “Be careful what you wish for.”
CHAPTER THIRTY:
Fly Free
(Ark Three)
The pressure against his chest could be felt through his armor and even his exoskeleton. In a matter of moments, the interior cavity with his organs would be crushed. When that happened he would bleed internally, depriving his brain of the little oxygen and nutrients it needed.
Tiana hadn’t replied when he’d called her name, but he suspected his gear was damaged. She might still be alive, hidden inside of the equipment powering the wormhole. He could only hope she’d make it to one of the ships that would soon be leaving Earth with the few remaining survivors. More than anything, he was ashamed. He’d failed again. How many times did he have to be near death by critter, before he accepted he wasn’t up to the job his grandfather had left for him?
He was floating. His body felt light, his head uncluttered. The pressure inside of his mind and his suit had lifted. This was death. A lightness of being.
Something sharply kicked his leg, making him raise his right knee. When it kicked his hip, he shot out an arm, grabbing hold of something thick. His visor wasn’t working, but heaven wasn’t supposed to kick him. With his other hand, he pushed up his faceplate, suddenly aware he could move again. Even with his visor up, all he could see was black. When he breathed in, something tasting like tar filled his mouth.
Sitting up and spluttering, he hacked and spat whatever it was he’d swallowed. Still coughing, he dragged the helmet from his head, wiping a gloved hand down his face. It didn’t help much, but light was showing through the darkness. Next to him was a set of thick legs. Blinking rapidly, he looked up only to be confronted by a dark mirrored set of eyes.
“You were in danger. Your orders are to save you.”
“Droid?”
“That is my purpose.”
As if to explain itself, it held out a gloved hand showing crushed vials. “You made it back?”
“I am here.”
He supposed he had asked an obvious question. Rising to his feet, he turned towards the console. Even without his visor, he detected the outline of a body curled inside of the panels. “Help me get her out.”
Without waiting for the BattleDroid to reply, he dug his fingers into the side of the panel. He probably shouldn’t rip the system apart, they might still need it, but Tiana was buried behind its thin metal walls. The BattleDroid joined him as piece by piece they tore open the underside of the console. A gloved hand appeared out of the darkness waving frantically.
“Stop! Do not break it. We need it.”
Twisting gently, Tiana pushed her way past the electronics. Leaning in, he slipped his arm under hers, gently pulling her forward. “Are you ok?”
“Yes. I hid in here. You should have too.”
He could say he didn’t have time while he held back the critters long enough for her to find somewhere to hide, but instead he pulled her out until she was able to stand. “Didn’t think of it, I guess.”
Flicking up her faceplate, she gave him a wide smile. “Yes, you did.” Leaning forward, she kissed his mouth. “Thank you.”
Lace called across the room. “What happened?”
Walking over to meet him, he wouldn’t let go of Tiana’s hand. “Critters. Do you have the vials?”
“I’ve got the ones you left with us. You took some with you.” Giving him a puzzled look, he asked, “How did you get here? You weren’t at the coordinates.”
“We found another transporter.” Giving him a tired look, he added, “It was a one way trip.”
Forcing himself to let go of Tiana’s hand, he walked into the now open wormhole. Where the room had been empty, two Scorpions now occupied the middle. Still a brilliant silver, his gloved hand left a dark smudge when he patted one of the hulls.
“How’s Mex?”
Lace had joined him to stand by the closest ship. “He didn’t make it.”
He’d lost one of his squad, but suspected he wouldn’t be alone when he mourned. Outside and across Earth the critters were still raging only now he had the cure. “Sorry to hear that, he was a good soldier, but we’re not sorted yet. We need to release the vials everywhere.”
“How?”
“We’ll take these ships and…throw the vials overboard. It’s not high tech, but it’ll get the job done. Get the droids to start unloading the vials for other ships to take.”
Walking back towards the wide mouth of the chamber, he touched Tiana’s arm. “I need you to keep the wormhole working.”
“I will, but why?”
“Once we’ve finished releasing the vials I’m going to Aria. Dunk Three doesn’t get to run away.”
Walking out of the hangar, every step kicked up a billow of black dust. The ground around him was covered in a thick carpet of the stuff, making him realize they’d been surrounded. If his BattleDroid hadn’t followed his orders then he wouldn’t have survived, no one would have. Tiana was walking next to him, watching the dust caught by the light wind. It was drifting across the park, low to the ground like a dark mist.
“That was close. If my droid hadn’t released the vials…”
“The BattleDroids are learning from their masters. Your droid is you.”
“It’s only a robot.”
“No, it is the voice of the nanobytes. I programmed them to learn from their master. You are its m
aster.”
Ships were flying above their heads, slowly circling before lowering to the ground. Each landing was throwing the black dust high into the air. Pulling his hand from his glove, he wiped it across his mouth. “You’re saying it’s intelligent.”
“If you are, then it is.”
Turning back to face the ships still parked inside of the wormhole, his BattleDroid was obediently unloading vials. It had saved his life twice now and he was developing a fondness for its bland attitude.
“I think I’ll call it Byte.”
“Why?”
“Like you said, it’s the voice of the nanobytes.”
Bombardiers were dropping from hatches under their Scorpions, throwing even more dust into the air. Another Bombardier was emerging from the forest with a gait he knew all too well. A grin spread across his face as he strode across the park towards him.
“Tank!”
Flipping up his faceplate, Tank grinned back at him. “What happened?”
Gripping his arms, his smile was so wide he felt his face stiffening under the strain. “The wormhole worked and Tiana brought back the ships. I told you, we found vials with some kind of virus in them.”
“We need to release it everywhere. How many have you got?”
“Hundreds, Tank, more than enough.”
“Let’s get it done.”
“So, that’s it? No, thanks for saving the world. Just get back to work.”
Tank’s grin disappeared, replaced by his usual scowl. “You know how I feel. I’m not gonna waste time gushing over you. Get on with it.”
They began walking with the Bombardiers heading towards the hangar. “So, you didn’t manage to kill yourself.”
“Nope. Some smartass saved me.”
“His name’s Byte.”
“Byte?”
“My droid.”
“You named your robot?”
“It’s not a robot. It’s a nanobyte.” Giving him a sidelong look, he added, “If you’re not going to die then you have to keep up.”