Aliens - The Truth is Coming (Book of Aliens 1)

by Adrian Tchaikovsky

  The Book of Aliens

  Volume One

  Written in British English

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialog are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © Space Dock Authors

  Published by Space Dock

  www.space-dock.co.uk

  Edited by Andrew Angel and Dave de Burgh

  www.andrewangel.co.uk

  www.davedeburgh.com

  Cover Art by Gary Compton © 2016

  www.garycompton.co.uk

  Book Design by Big River Press Ltd

  Foreword by Andrew Angel

  Who or what are the Aliens? Are they 'out there'? Are they already among us? How would we react to them?

  In early 2015 Gary Compton asked me if I would be joint Editor, along with Dave de Burgh for his latest collection from Tickety Boo Press. The subject, as you will have no doubt by now guessed was Aliens.

  Now, all through my formative years and beyond I have been interested in Sci-Fi and all the Aliens that come with it – from the old black and white episodes of Flash Gordon (repeats on tv in the school holidays, I'm not that old!!) through Doctor Who, various forms of Star Trek right up to the modern day Blockbusters, so it took me all of about three seconds to say yes.

  The thing with the stories I grew up with is that the Aliens always seemed to be wanting to take over something , be it the spaceship, a distant planet or, more often than not, good old Planet Earth herself.

  What we decided we were looking for with this anthology was variety (which takes us back to the questions above.) Sure we have Aliens on spaceships and Aliens wanting to take over Earth but we also have Aliens who are already here and may have been for many years. We have First Contact and Final Contact, we have tales from the depths of space and from deepest darkest Manchester Piccadilly train station. What we have, more than anything, is variety and hopefully something for everyone.

  I had many stories to choose from and narrowing it down to what you have in front of you was no easy task, the book could easily have been twice the size but these are the ones that made the final list.

  Enjoy the tales, watch the skies and… keep your eyes open, they may already walk among us

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, massive thanks to Gary Compton at Tickety Boo Press for giving me this opportunity to 'Live The Dream' and to all that sent in a story.

  Thanks also to:

  Dr. Catriona for her encouragement.

  Rick Cowling at Sheffield Space Centre for the right words at the right time.

  All at Sheffield Fantasy and Sci Fi Social

  The staff at Café W, Waterstones, Orchard Square, Sheffield where most of my work was done - excellent coffee and gingerbread geezers.

  And finally, a massive thank you to my better half, Marie, for her support and encouragement.

  CONTENTS

  In Plain Sight by Juliana Spink Mills

  Geometry by Alex Davis

  Gods of the Ice Planet by Adrian Tchaikovsky

  Island Visit by Nathan Hystad

  Even the Klin Are Only Human by Bryn Fortey

  A New Dawn by Liz Gruder

  Rent by Steven Poore

  Salvage by MJ Kobernus

  The Devil’s Rock by William Anderson

  The Man Who Wasn’t Dead by Terry Grimwood

  We Three Remain by Stewart Hotston

  Welcome to Cosmic Journey by Michael Chandos

  The Zoo of Dark Creatures by Leslie J Anderson

  Here by Tim James

  In Plain Sight

  by Juliana Spink Mills

  Sofia woke early that Saturday, the fifth anniversary of her arrival on Earth. It was raining, a soft, grey London drizzle, but the wet never bothered her. She rather liked it. There was no rain in space, and there had been no rain in the bioShip her people had sheltered in for generations after her planet collapsed.

  After changing quickly into jogging shorts and top, she sat on the edge of the bed to lace her shoes and tie her long, brown hair back into a ponytail. Still tangled in sheets and dreams, her bedmate stirred and yawned.

  “Up already?” Susanna looked at the digital clock with one eye. “It’s barely light out. Come back to bed, Sofia.”

  Sofia smiled and leaned over to trace the soft curve of Susanna’s cheek with a fingertip. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised. She kissed her sleep-heavy eyes and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

  It was time to run.

  Sofia loved every part of this earthling ritual. The pre-run stretches, the pounding of feet on the hard city pavement, the blaring mind-numbing Pop songs fed from tiny speakers into her ears. She welcomed the gasping breath, the stinging sweat, the aching sides. She pushed through the pain with joy, reminding herself with each beat of her feet I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive.

  Life, in all its blazing glory, not the dwindling half-life of the damaged, dying bioShip. Life was the reason she’d volunteered for the scout flight in the first place.

  “Sofiike, it is a suicide mission,” her birthing mother had implored her. “Do not do this thing. A liveable planet? You know this is not real. It was never real. You will find nothing. You will die in space. Stay here, please?”

  Stay until what? Until her mother reached liberation age and was brutally marched to the airlock to make way for some youngling? No, Sofia chose the scout flight with her eyes fully open. She would rather take her chance among the distant stars than sit around waiting to be added to the liberation list herself.

  Even if it meant death.

  Sofia entered Regent’s Park. The large planters inside the gate had heather in them, and she paused briefly to surreptitiously pluck a sprig and carefully tuck it into her waistband for luck. It was a reminder: life over death. When she had crash-landed in the Peak District, so many years ago, the heather had been waiting to welcome her to Earth. It had been raining that day, too.

  When she arrived at the rose garden, she slowed to a walk as she always did. Under the fine mist of rain, the flowers were brief flashes of colour, soon swallowed by the muting drizzle. Sofia reached her bench, the one by Triton’s fountain, and switched off the music. Now there was no sound but the drops of falling water and the faint hum of traffic on Marylebone Road.

  She leaned back and closed her eyes, tilting her face to the grey sky. On this quiet, abandoned morning, it belonged to her alone.

  “Sofiike.”

  Her eyes snapped open and she leapt to her feet, wary, dropping automatically into a Kantaak fighting stance. Standing a few feet away under a purple umbrella, hand stretched out in gesture of peace, was someone she never thought to see again.

  “Tuurek?” She blinked. This was not possible. How could Tuurek be here, on Earth? She had carried the receiver chip for exactly one year after the crash. And then she had crushed it like a bug.

  Yet it was unmistakably him. She slid disbelieving eyes over his earthling garb: black t-shirt tight against his well-muscled form, rain-spattered jeans, Converse-clad feet. He could be any regular human, but he was not: he was Tuurek, First Captain and technically her commanding officer.

  He raised his eyebrows, piercing green gaze questioning. “Are you done with the staring? Because I thought we might get out of this piss-awful
drizzle and have some coffee. I could murder a latte.”

  The coffee shop server sniffed a little when they walked in with Sofia dripping all over the place, but Tuurek flashed that smile of his and she melted instantly, ushering them to a table and rustling up large, hot coffees and a plate of rather limp biscuits. Tuurek dug in. He had always been greedy, that one, Sofia now remembered, disapproving.

  “Earth food is wonderful,” he sighed, brushing crumbs from his mouth. “I only wish I had arrived sooner. Four years marooned on Pleionnas. Awful, forsaken place. Dog people, that’s what I found there. Effing canines, acting like equals because they stand on two feet and speak some sort of gibberish. Rubbish food, too.”

  Sofia ignored his complaints. Tuurek was never content. That was part of the reason she had left his bed in the first place. “You seem to have picked up the local dialect rather well. How long have you been here?”

  And, more importantly, “How did you find me?”

  “I got here a month ago. It took a while but I finally got my ship operational again. Pleionnas was a washout; my equipment showed the atmosphere would have a highly toxic effect on our people over time. A slow death sentence. Earth was the next possibility in my search quadrant. I knew you had headed here.”

  He ate another biscuit. “Came straight to London, following your last known signal. Landed on Hampstead Heath, horrible place. Been shacking up with this earthling - George. Shacking up, that’s what he calls it. Heh. Good thing he doesn’t know what a Shaak is. He’d flip. Good teacher, though, for Earth stuff.” He gestured at his outfit. “Took me shopping and everything. Very useful. Not my favoured sort of bedmate, but needs before wants, right?”

  Sofia was quiet, fighting a strange rush of emotions. She had loved Tuurek once, loved his dashing smile and his talented bedding skills. But she had long since learnt the shallow depths to his soul. And now here he was. She didn’t want Tuurek here. She selfishly wanted this planet to herself.

  Tuurek had finished off the biscuits and was sipping his latte. “So pensive. Your story, I can guess. Crash landing, yeah? Receiver chip failure, perhaps?”

  Sofia shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  He gave a wolfish grin, taking in her tight, rain-slicked running top. “And look at you, Sofikke, perfectly… assimilated. You will be a great help when time comes to settle our people and terminate the host population.”

  “Sofia,” she said softly.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s Sofia, here. I go by Sofia.”

  “Whatever. George calls me Tom. Who cares?”

  Suddenly, all Sofia wanted was to go home and crawl into bed with Susanna. Suse would be awake by now, nestled under a blanket of newspapers, morning cup of tea balanced on her nightstand amid the piles of books that constantly threatened to cascade to the floor in an avalanche of words. It would be warm and safe with Susanna. She shivered.

  “Cold?” Tuurek leaned in close. “Or do I scare you? You don’t exactly seem overjoyed to see me, maleena.”

  His use of the word chilled Sofia to the bone. Maleena was a bedding endearment, a lover’s jest, but the kin-word maleana meant slave. Tuurek’s deliberate pronunciation pushed the boundaries of the word, and the implied threat made Sofia’s stomach churn with anger and dread combined.

  She stood, abruptly. “Captain, it was nice to meet with you again. But I must go.”

  He stood, too. “Well. I wouldn’t want to lose you now, would I? I’ll walk you to your home.”

  Sofia crossed her arms for warmth and protection against his calculating gaze as they wove their way through the coffee-shop patrons. Outside, Tuurek offered her his arm and she had no choice but to take it. He placed his other hand upon her arm, locking her in place with frightening strength, fingers biting into her skin. The door closed behind them with a faint tinkle of bells, setting them free in the current of Saturday-morning shoppers and baby-pushing mothers.

  “What news from the ship?” Sofia asked, forcing her voice to sound pleasant and interested.

  Tuurek stared ahead at the blinking crossing light. The rain had stopped and weak, meagre sunlight struggled through the clouds to gleam on the wet tarmac.

  “The bioShip is dying,” he answered, curtly. The light turned green and he pulled her across the street a little more roughly than necessary. “It’s been dying for years, Sofiike. You know that. It’s just dying faster now. But this planet, this Earth, our kind could be happy here.”

  For a moment her heart sang as she considered the possibility. “We could mingle, join their thriving population. It would be easy…” Her voice faded away as she caught the look on his face.

  “And just how are we supposed to land a bloody great ship without detection, tell me that? How are we to blend in? We’re talking about the sudden appearance of half a million strangers who have no idea how to act or speak in this place, however similar our species may be. Think no one will notice?”

  “We could request asylum,” she answered quietly. “There are countries that would grant it.”

  “And imprison us, take us to their research facilities.” He grimaced. “I’ve seen the films; I’ve read the books. I’ve done a hell of a lot of research since I’ve been here, although it seems to me you’ve spent your time in a more agreeable fashion.”

  He gave her arm a shake. “Sofiike… Sofia. Don’t be so naïve. You’re an officer, so think like one. You must see that host removal prior to settlement is the only way to do this. I’ve already begun experimenting on dear George. As soon as I find the fastest way to clear the planet without damaging it, I’ll be in touch with the bioShip and they can plan their arrival. Do you not care about our people?”

  “Of course I care,” Sofia whispered, so softly he had to bend his head to hear. “They are my people. Of course I care. I just wish there was another way.”

  “There isn’t. There really isn’t,” he replied firmly. “Priorities, maleena. Get. Them. Straight.”

  Suse called out when Sofia unlocked the door to their flat, Tuurek hard on her heels. “Sofe, did you remember the milk?”

  Sofia had a sudden urge to push Tuurek out, lock the door and hide in here forever with Susanna. But forever was beginning to look like an awfully short amount of time.

  “No, I forgot. I bumped into an old friend and we went for coffee. I hope you don’t mind, I brought him back with me.”

  Suse appeared smiling in the living room doorway in her dressing gown, reading glasses perched firmly on her black curls. “Well now, isn’t this nice? I never meet any of Sofia’s friends. Come on in!”

  Tuurek held out a hand, his most charming smile on his face. “Hi, I’m Tom.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Tom. I’m Susanna. Make yourself at home.”

  Sofia perched gingerly on the edge of a stool as Tuurek dropped into the biggest and most comfortable chair. Trust him to immediately pick the best seat of the house. Fear and resentment warred within her gut. Susanna settled gracefully on the sofa, looking from one to the other.

  “So, Tom, how do you and Sofia know each other?”

  “We used to work together.” Tuurek gave an elegant shrug. “You know how it is, jobs change, you drift apart… I was lucky enough to bump into Sofia in the park. Such a nice surprise.”

  Sofia sneezed. Susanna immediately looked dismayed. “Oh love, you’re soaked! I shouldn’t keep you here talking. Go on, get changed, I’ll keep Tom company. Pop the kettle on while you’re at it.”

  Sofia hated to leave Susanna with Tuurek, but it would have looked weird to stay. She filled the kettle and set it to boil, then sat on a kitchen chair to pull off her sodden running shoes. The movement tweaked the sprig of heather from her waistband. It fell to the floor noiselessly, and Sofia stared at it. She picked it up carefully and set it on the windowsill. Life or death, the heather reminded her. The choice is yours.

  She washed her hands and walked on through to the bedroom to change
into leggings and a t-shirt. Back in the living room, Susanna and Tuurek were making small talk. Suse’s voice was strained and artificial. Susanna looked up in obvious relief when she entered.

  “Sofe, you’re back,” she stated unnecessarily. “Well, I’ll just go get some clothes on, if you don’t mind.” Susanna disappeared through the kitchen door. Tuurek made an appreciative face. “Nice,” he said in a low voice meant for Sofia’s ears only. “Better choice than my one; he’s a bit of a whiny git. He’s almost dead, anyway. My experiments… haven’t been kind. Maybe we’ll use your one next.”

  Sofia clenched her jaw. There was no way he was getting Susanna. Unable to sit still another moment, she jumped up and went into the kitchen. Susanna had set out the mugs on her way through: the matching red and white ones from their trip to the Bilbao Guggenheim and a single plain white mug. She smiled. Suse was making a statement, then. Telling Tuurek in no uncertain terms where he stood in this house. Susanna was closing ranks.

  She caught sight of the sprig of heather, lying where she’d left it. Life or death. Dare she? Quickly, ever so quickly she picked up the sprig with a napkin and dunked it into the white mug along with the teabag, pouring boiling water over the lot. Then she tapped on the bedroom door.

  “Everything okay, Suse?”

  The door opened a crack to show Susanna’s worried face, half made-up. Suse was putting on what she called her war paint. “I think that’s what I should be asking. What is it, love?”

  Sofia was clenching her jaw again. She forced herself to relax. “I can’t tell you now. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  Returning to the kitchen, she scooped out the teabags and the heather, added milk and sugar. She didn’t know if Tuurek even liked sugar but it would mask the taste of heather. She set the mugs on a tray and took them in to the living room. Susanna was right behind her, and this time they sat together on the sofa.

  Tuurek looked amused when he saw the matching mugs, but he played along and took the white one. “Well, this is nice. So pleasant to meet Sofia’s latest lover.”