Terraformed Skies

by Anna Lewis

  “Get him!” cried one of the Vihatagons.

  “I can’t. He’s too quick!” the other one yelled.

  “Use your stun gun, you buffoon!” he yelled back.

  “Stop calling me that!” the other one cried.

  Trevor laughed at this exchange, diving around the corner of a hallway and heading back to the room where he was being held. The captain waited for him inside with another round of guards who were ready to shoot. As Trevor raised his arm to fire, the charging button blinked rapidly and made a whirling sound, refusing to emit any more rays from his palm. The brave cyborg hid behind the wall, waiting for the enemy aliens to cease fire.

  “We know you’re there, cyborg!” yelled the captain from inside. “You might as well surrender considering you’re predicament.”

  Trevor would not yield. He wasn’t ready to surrender and he wasn’t about to allow his own species to go extinct because of the greedy desires of these Vihatagons. An image of Lena popped into his head, her long hair flowing over her shoulders while she sat on his lap. How desperately he clung to this image of his love. Every fiber of his being grasped at this picture of her, reminding him of what he was fighting for. He just hoped she had arrived safely. Charging his arm again, he waited until the blinking light turned green and then turned the corner.

  On Earth, General Sanders was preparing his troops for a rescue mission. The scientists informed him of the most vulnerable parts of the alien’s bodies, and reminded him that they were a bit slow.

  “Shoot for the belly,” said Dr. Snyder. “That seems to be a particularly sensitive area.”

  “We’re still not sure how these creatures work. We would need to dissect them for further information,” said Professor McLeod.

  “Are any of you trained to do that?” asked the general.

  “I am, sir,” said a soldier from the side of the room. “I’ve been medically trained to dress wounds, but I think I could open up one of those aliens.”

  “We’ll get you on it, soldier,” said the general. “Retrieve a body from the battlefield.”

  The soldiers went to work on retrieving a mostly intact Vihatagon body and brought it back to the main building. It had taken about five men just to get it off the ground and an extra man to carry it. These aliens were particularly heavy with fatty tissue. On the table, the medic leaned over the body by standing on a chair and procured a scalpel from his medical bag. The scientists watched with intensity as he pried open the skin. A thick, viscous ooze trickled down the side of the body as the medic peered inside.

  “The heart is in the belly, sir. That would explain their vulnerability,” said the medic.

  “And what of the other parts?” asked Dr. Warren.

  “They’re enlarged. Many of them I don’t recognize, but the lungs are located behind the heart. You could potentially shoot them in the back and deprive them of air,” replied the medic.

  “Good job, soldier. Now let the scientists do their work,” said General Sanders.

  The medic stepped aside and the five curious scientists each took turns looking inside of the alien, admiring the intricate way it was made. Some of them took notes for further study and posed questions about alien physiology. Others informed the general where other weak spots might be located. In a matter of minutes, the table was covered with the vile fluid from inside the body. It made the entire room smell like wet garbage.

  Once they were finished inspecting the body, the soldiers were commanded to remove and dispose of the body immediately before the smell stuck. No matter how much bleach they used, it could not rid their nostrils of the putrid stench.

  The general went outside to inform his troops of their plan and organized rescue parties to be sent into space. There was still no word from Lena who was occupied with the fascinating documents on the Vihatagon computer.

  Lena wished she had a thumb drive so she could download the files. Perhaps she could find one and retrieve them later. Try as she might to memorize as much as she could, there was a limit.

  “Dr. Clark, what should we do next?” asked the soldier, his ray gun perfectly fixed on the doorway.

  “We need to alert the general,” she replied, lifting her radio from her pocket. “General Sanders, this is Dr. Clark. Over.”

  Crackling came from the radio before General Sanders replied.

  “This is General Sanders. What is your position? Over,” he said.

  “We’ve taken the bridge. Soldiers are ready to release prisoners. Over,” responded Lena.

  “We’ll send reinforcements. Over,” said the general.

  “Good. Now we need to find Trevor,” said Lena. “Are you ready, soldier?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The coast is clear,” he replied.

  As the two exited the bridge, Trevor was firing wildly at the Vihatagons in the room. Each one fell to the ground as the captain pulled them in front of him, using them all as a shield against the rays from Trevor’s palm. What a coward, hiding behind his men, thought Trevor as he slayed the last one.

  The Vihatagon soldiers were piled in front of the captain who grinned over the top of them, beady eyes daring Trevor to step further into the room.

  “Face me, coward,” said Trevor while stepping forward. “I have faced you once and I’ll face you again.”

  “Not until all of my requests are met, cyborg,” said the captain. “Give me your life and I will leave your petty planet behind. But you must come with me.”

  Trevor weighed the consequences of this decision. Could he really leave Lena behind? Was there any way to tell her? He pressed his finger to the ear piece, but nothing came from the other end. Communication had ceased once Lena had mentioned her rescue mission to come up here. Every second felt like an hour standing in that room, the captain waiting for Trevor’s response. He knew it was too good to be true. As soon as they got the information they needed, he would be killed.

  He had to keep fighting.

  ***

  The human soldiers who had come to the rescue of the prisoners were being barreled by enemy aliens. Every wave of Vihatagons forced the people to push forward, helping their fellow soldiers in the fight to keep their lives. Some people fell to the ground defeated due to a lack of hydration while others pressed on covered in sweat. No matter how hard the Vihatagons pushed, the people fought back. The soldiers were glad to have their support in this particular battle, it proving to be more difficult than the one on land.

  As Wesley fired his ray gun, Jeffery pushed him to the side to save him from being shot. It resulted in his body disintegrating right before the eyes of his comrade who screamed with rage. Scrambling to the place where Jeffery had once stood, Wesley lifted the ashes of his fellow soldier and wailed. He had witnessed many men fall in the battlefield, but this particular sight had left him hollow. Jeffery had been by his side during many a fight and he had cherished their bond. Now he was left with nothing to remember except pictures – and the awful last image of him being disintegrated.

  The death fueled his passion and he rushed against the fleshy alien bodies, beating them with his bare fists. His ray gun had fallen to the ground and one of the people picked it up to shoot at the guards. Once the group had the Vihatagons defeated, they all ran back to the ports where they had initially arrived. Many of them were hesitant to be synthesized again. Wesley assured them that they would be safe and radioed for Lena’s instructions on how to get the people back on the drones.

  “Open up the panel and push the green button,” Lena said. “And be careful not to synthesize yourself!”

  He assigned groups a leader to push the buttons and hundreds of people disappeared in a flash, absorbed into the memory banks of the drones. Walking up the aisle, he made sure everyone made it safely and watched the drones take off into space where they would travel back to Earth. A few hundred people were left behind where they waited patiently for rescue.

  “Dr. Clark, is a rescue team on the way? Over,” said Wesley into his radio.
r />   Crackles greeted him from the speaker.

  “Dr. Clark, Dr. Lena Clark, do you copy? Over,” he repeated.

  What was keeping her from responding? The group stared at Wesley who would now lead them to safety, listening to the sound of heavy foot falls coming from the other side of the room. Grabbing his ray gun from its holster, he stood next to the door. He was prepared to meet his enemies. The sounds of running feet grew closer and Wesley nearly laid fire into Lena and the other soldier. They raised their arms.

  “Don’t shoot!” cried Ryan.

  Wesley lowered his ray gun and greeted them with a smile, relieved that there weren’t any more Vihatagons. It was possible the rest were in hiding as the ship was rather large, but it wasn’t clear where they might be.

  “Is everyone safe?” Lena asked, tapping the buttons on her cybernetic attachment.

  “Yes, most of them have left. There are a few hundred remaining,” replied Wesley.

  “Good job, soldier,” said Lena. “You’ll have to keep them safe while I locate Trevor.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied while raising his gun.

  “Where’s Jeffery?”

  The question prompted Wesley to look at the ground, searching for the ashes of his fallen comrade. There was black soot all over the floor from the people who had been demolished. Jeffery was somewhere amidst this mess. Following his gaze, Ryan studied the room and then lowered his head in honor of those who had been lost. Wesley didn’t need to explain what happened. It was evident that Jeffery had fallen victim to the dreadful Vihatagons. Lena wasn’t sure what to say. She could offer her condolences, but what good would that do? It would ignore the rest who had crumbled beneath the weight of the hateful aliens.

  Lifting his head, Wesley saluted Lena and Ryan before heading back to the group of people in the corner. Most of them were sitting on the ground, suffering from a lack of sustenance. They asked the soldier for food who grimly replied that he didn’t have any.

  “Help is on the way. Don’t worry,” he assured them. “We’ll get out of here alive.”

  Lena and Ryan left the room and walked the length of the hallway, relying on Lena’s knowledge of the interior to guide them. They could hear the sound of a ray gun firing in the distance, but weren’t sure where it was coming from. All of the halls were made of a metal alloy. It caused sound to ricochet in every direction. While carefully exploring the area, they heard the faint sound of crying coming from somewhere nearby. It sounded like a woman. They followed it around the corner, not far from the cargo area.

  Sitting in an electrical cage was Alexis, her body worn from stress. The Vihatagons who had dragged her there had long since left, alerted that a breech had been made in the cargo hold. The torture she had endured left her feeling weak and vulnerable, the electrical pulses causing a headache on top of her hunger. She had considered calling out for help, but feared the guards might return and zap her again. She wasn’t sure she could handle any more.

  Footsteps came from the hallway that caused her to perk up. She clenched her fists at her side, ready for anything to happen. As Lena came around the edge of the doorway, Alexis screeched at the top of her lungs in an effort to scare away the dreadful guards, whom she thought it was. But it was Lena. She raised her hands.

  “Hey!” she screamed. “It’s okay!”

  Alexis stared at the two humans standing in the door, sobbing uncontrollably at the sight. She never thought she would ever see someone like her again. Hope was restored in her gut and she begged the two to get her out of the cage.

  “It’s going to be alright. I’ll try to get you out. What’s your name?” asked Lena while walking over to the controls.

  “Alexis,” she replied while sniffling. “They tortured me.”

  It occurred to Lena that this was the woman who had suffered on behalf of Trevor. She remembered considering telling Trevor to continue holding out to the aliens’ demands, which would have killed the poor girl. How easy it would have been to let this life pass without seeing her face. Now that she was looking at the girl, it broke her heart to think they would have sacrificed this soul to the greater good. Was their situation so awful that they would have killed one to save the masses? How many more lives would have to be given for that matter? Lena promised herself to never allow such moral ambiguity to enter her brain. All life matters here and they were going to get out alive, no matter what.

  As Lena tinkered with the controls, Ryan knelt down next to the cage to talk to Alexis. The conversation kept her calm. Normally, Alexis would be annoyed by small chat, but this soldier was rather handsome and he was doing a good job at distracting her from the pain. Lena snipped a few wires and the cage deactivated, the door opening for Alexis to crawl out. Gently, Ryan wrapped her in a hug.

  “What’s that for?” she asked.

  “It seemed like you needed it,” he responded.

  She smiled and took his hand as they ran from the room, continuing their mission to find Trevor. Where was he?

  ***

  Dozens of drones appeared over the battlefield and landed heavily in the sand. A number of soldiers ran out to greet the masses of people appearing, hundreds synthesizing from the machines far more quickly than they could manage. It was mayhem! General Sanders was shouting orders, trying to get the mass of people under control. They were screaming and celebrating all at once. A new found appreciation fell over the group like none before, admiring the soil that they had taken for granted. Many of the soldiers ushered them towards the camp and the hospital, utilizing as much space as possible.

  Some of the people were injured during the battle in the cargo area and were whisked off to the medical tent in order to receive treatment. Soldiers lined the pathway to the main building to set up civilian tents, hoping the Vihatagons had no intention of returning to the field. Food was distributed as quickly as possible and people sat on the ground to eat, happy to be fed and hydrated once more.

  As General Haynes looks around at the suddenly filled field, he turns to General Sanders and says, “How are we going to care for these people, General?”

  “I’m not sure,” responds General Sanders. “But the hospital has been emptied. Take any of the vulnerable ones inside and keep them safe. Guard all the exits and doors.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied General Haynes.

  He went to gather a group of troops and started rounding up the injured, carefully guiding them to the hospital where they could rest in the bed. The other tents were quickly filling up with people and many of them collapsed on the ground with their blankets, tired from the whole ordeal. General Sanders stood amidst the mess and called for his soldiers to begin their rescue mission, sending them off to the transporters to go up towards the mothership. He listened to the conversations around him.

  “We should have stayed home,” said one man to his wife, hugging her close in a tent nearby.

  “I don’t think I ever want to leave the Earth again,” said someone else behind the general.

  He looked around. This was the most terrible war he had ever been a part of, the magnitude frightening him to his core. Most of them had survived this strike, but could they survive another? How long would it be until another species of alien came along to do the same thing? As these questions racked the general’s brain, a young woman approached him and asked who to thank for their rescue.

  “All of these soldiers, ma’am,” responded General Sanders with a smile.

  “Well, thank you,” said the woman.

  “You’re welcome,” he responded, touched that someone had expressed their gratitude.

  It wasn’t often he heard such a thing. Most battles were fought away from the people, but this one had hit close to home. He peered up at the sky, watching the edge of the mother ship poking through the clouds and hoping that the great doctor had reached the commander in time. Walking over the main building, he lifted his radio and spoke into it.

  “Dr. Clark, what is your status? Over,” he said
.

  A few minutes passed before Lena could respond.

  “General, we’re close to finding the commander. Over,” she spoke.

  “Bring our people home, Dr. Clark. Over,” he said.

  “Yes, sir. Over,” responded Lena.

  Nodding, the general sits down and takes off his hat to let his head cool. A sweat had broken out on his forehead and he wiped it with his sleeve. A mug of coffee appeared in front of him. He looked up to find Dr. Warren.

  “How’s our doctor doing up there, General?” he asked.

  General Sanders took the mug gratefully and sipped slowly, allowing the warm coffee to soothe his aching muscles.

  “They’ll be back soon, I hope,” responded the general.

  “And how are you doing, sir?” asked Dr. Warren.

  General Sanders considered the question, frowning at his reflection in the mug.

  “I’m not sure yet, Dr. Warren. I feel as though I’ve lost touch with everything. This is utter chaos,” replied General Sanders. “It’s out of control.”

  “I think this is a striking reminder that nothing is ever in our control,” said Dr. Warren. “And that we should be grateful we have the strength to fight.”

  The philosophical words made General Sanders chuckle and nod.

  “That’s true. It’s certainly a lesson learned,” he said.

  “And we’ll continue to learn. It’s part of our evolutionary process,” said the scientist, sitting next to the general with his own mug of coffee. “I think I’ll write about this in my next book.”

  “Well, somebody ought to,” said General Sanders. “Because I want to forget it as soon as it’s over.”

  “I had been hoping the entire day that this was just a nightmare, but I’m wrong. It’s reality. We have to cope with that,” said the scientist. “You’re doing a good job, sir.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Warren. You all have been a great help as well,” said the general.

  “We live to serve,” said Dr. Warren.