Ishimaru

by Louis Rosas

  Master Sergeant Evans sense of ease seemed somewhat intimidating not so much, unlike Connors’ first drill instructor. Connors felt a flight bump on his elbow from his wingman Tom Mathews who grinned as he shook his head to Connors.

  “What was that for?” demanded Connors.

  “Dude! That’s “Howling Mad Jack” Evans! He’s a living legend!” said Mathews.

  “Never heard of him. Should I’ve?” asked Connors.

  “You know that Orbital Assault Badge those Army Rangers and Special Ops badasses wear?” asked Mathews.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “That man not only has one for Earth, but he’s also the only man in the entire service to have one for Mars with five red clusters!” explained Mathews.

  “No shit?” astounded Connors.

  “I shit you not flyboy!” overheard Evans.

  “Man, I tell you, that’s a whole Six Minutes of Terror of the worst degree, and he did it four of them by choice! That’s more than any Special Ops guy alive! How’s that for confidence?” asked Mathews.

  “We’ll see who doesn’t have wet britches when we’re back on Terra Firma,” bet Connors.

  “Plop and drop! Oh man oh man you would have to bring that up on a drop!” chuckled Mathews.

  No sooner than the overhead lights switched to dim, the OAV23 taxied out onto the runway for a straight steep combat climb high up into mid-orbit. Connors clenched his grip onto his armrest when the woman to his right with the name patch that read ‘Wood’ nudged him to offer him a stick of chewing gum.

  “Thanks,” said Connors.

  “Don’t mention it. Helps me from gnawing my teeth,” explained Wood.

  Suddenly, the overhead lights switched to magenta. The OAV23 lifted off the runaway and made a rapid, steep climb. Connors could feel his stomach rumble away as the fast ascent upwards played havoc with his system.

  “Oh man! I thought only fighter jocks did this kind of flying!” complained Mathews.

  “These OAV’s are made to go everywhere anyhow. You knew we’d have to do this. Just think, a year from now this we’ll probably be the ones flying this bird,” predicted Connors.

  “We’ll Amen to that buddy!” replied Mathews.

  The OAV23 rocked and shuddered as it made its fast ascent. Inside the EPTM Connors chewed his gum as the turbulence and thunderous roar of the space plane’s engines gave way to a muffled hum and the serene sensation of weightlessness. This brought about a momentary sensation of relief within the EPTM as the OAV23 leveled off once in orbit, but it would not last. A moment later, a repeating buzzer sounded off, and the lights switched from magenta to combat red. MSgt. Evans unlocked his restraints and stood up from his seat to address:

  “Listen up people! This is your two-minute warning! Make sure your O2 lights are green, and your visors are down and in the locked position. Once the light turns green, there will be a thirty-second warning buzzer before the drop. So hang on to your nuts and enjoy the ride!”

  No sooner than MSgt. Evans sat back down into his seat and locked his restraint bars; the lights went from red to green on cue with the warning buzzer recycling every three seconds.

  “Ready?” asked Connors.

  Tom Mathews smiled as the sound of the bomb bay like doors opened underneath as he tried to say:

  “Piece of……CAKE!”

  A loud sound could be heard from within the EPTM indicating that the module had just been dropped from the OAV and was now heading back down into Earth’s atmosphere. Suddenly a rush of G-Forces could be felt as the module pulled down by the Earth’s gravity at high speeds for the rapid re-entry. Connors closed his eyes as the Escape Pod Training Module dropped into the fiery fall from space. The next moment he opened his eyes and discovered he was in the DSMV Fortin’s escape pod all alone watching the flames spinning rapidly out his small window while hearing Aya’s haunting rendition of Clair de Lune in his mind. This was no longer the training exercise aboard the EPTM; this was the real thing in all its terror for him to endure.

  The hard landing replayed over and over again in Connors' head. It did not matter that airbags softened the initial blows, Connors was bounced in his seat every time with such force it was no surprise the escape pod broke apart nearly breaking him in the process. By all accounts, he was lucky to have survived at all. But unless his distress beacon was picked up in time, his luck would run out leaving no one left to tell his tale. For the time being, his transitions between memories and reality became increasingly difficult for Connors to distinguish between where one episode started and when another ended. This was akin to having your own Slaughterhouse Five moment yet there once again, Connors found himself lying on the back sands amidst the wreckage of the escape pod looking up to the infinite stars above. The silence was somewhat uncomfortable. Thus he decided illusion or not he would make conversation with his English Butler seated next to him.

  “Say, Hopkins,” asked Connors.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “What do you know about this region of space?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid not very much, Sir. My Specialty is medical triage and emergency communications. But unofficially, I have heard some things,” revealed Hopkins.

  “What kind of things?” inquired Connors.

  “Merely rumor I’m afraid and there’s not much I can really tell you about it that would do you any good,” said Hopkins.

  The revelation as if Hopkins had gone off script further intrigued Connors.

  “I am told they call this area the ‘Quad-Threes.’ I’ve heard strange rumors of aliens, ghosts, and stuff,” said Connors.

  “That is most curious, Sir. I am not versed in any such details or aware of the existence of any such alien activity. It was not included in my pre-programmed mandate. My primary concern is for your survival,” said Hopkins.

  Hopkins assertion was right. Wondering about such nonsense was indeed a waste of time. While Hopkins had somehow manifested from a simple wrist strapped survival computer to that of a middle-aged English butler in tails, he knew that if he ignored logic and went down that road of fear and loathing his mental state could further deteriorate into a state of insanity. That could be very dangerous in his situation. Not knowing what was real or illusion could lead him to do something foolish like remove his helmet. This was not an option. By whatever means, Connors needed to remain conscious if he was to survive long enough for rescue. Connors closed his eyes for a moment then looked up to the black canopy of stars above him. Somehow mixed among those stars, he could see an outline of something unusual. Further observation manifested in the figure of his unborn child still in Aya’s womb tossing and turning as the sound of the infant’s heartbeat and then nothing at all.

  “This has got to stop before I lose my mind!”

  Silence. For a moment Connors could not feel his own heartbeat and became panicked.

  “Sir? Are you all right?” asked Hopkins.

  “I don’t know. I’m worried about my pregnant wife back home,” replied Connors.

  “Is there cause for concern?” inquired Hopkins.

  “Before I had to jump into the escape pod I had just learned she had been in a serious accident,” said Connors.

  “I am so sorry to hear that Sir,” conveyed Hopkins.

  Just then, Connors remembered Aya’s elder brother Hiroshi had sent him a file downloaded to data crystal which he had placed in the outer pocket of his LSS suit. In the span of the ordeal he had just undergone, Connors completely forgot about it. Being that the escape pod was completely destroyed and his one small one-inch display monitor on his wrist was cracked he had no way to view it. Or did he?

  Connors was not about to give up on the prospect of viewing the encrypted file. While the idea seemed mad, he thought why not ask Hopkins? So far everything else seemed surreal and yet not entirely out of the realm of possibilities so ‘what the hell?’ he thought.

  “Say, Hopkins?”

  “Yes, Sir,” replied Hopkins.
>
  “Please just call me Mike,” he pleaded.

  “Very well, Sir, Mike, how may I help you?”

  “Is there a way I can view the files on this data crystal I am holding in my hand?” asked Connors.

  “I am certain something can be arranged. Please allow me to see it,” said Hopkins.

  Connors reluctantly handed the small data crystal to Hopkins extended hand. Connors gingerly placed it in the palm of his hand that once closed offered a new reality.

  Out of nowhere, Hopkins wheeled forth and stainless steel cart with a small insertion box with a pen point projector. Hopkins next inserted the data crystal which activated the small pen point to produce a thirty-inch wide projection of the encrypted files.

  “May I have your personal identity code, Sir?” asked Hopkins.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  Then without saying his PIN, the screen decrypted the files and began to play.

  A male voice spoke in Japanese:

  ”Itamikūkō no kanshi kamera,” (Itami Airport Surveillance Camera).

  The high definition footage revealed a nearly impossible to make out fog-laden taxiway. You could almost miss it if you did not see the illuminating ground lights and assorted navigational beacons. And then like two piercing beams of white light shot forth, a slow-moving commuter craft turned to the right from runway 21 left that it had just landed from. Connors had been out of contact with Aya for close to a month during the last phase of his current contract. He was completely unaware that she had made this trip to Nagoya nor did he know which flight she was aboard. She made no mention of it in their earlier messages. Had he known, he would not have been too happy about it given the risk involved of flying while pregnant and would have advised her to take the high-speed Mag-Lev Shinkansen instead. However, such further debate as to what could have been done in hindsight was pure conjecture and served no purpose. What was done was done.

  As the surveillance camera played on, it further revealed the twin-engine commuter craft roll down the taxiway towards the terminal in dense fog when suddenly out of nowhere a heavy sub orbiter plane emerged out of the fog on the wrong runway piercing through the fog at high speeds careening into the tail section of Aya’s commuter flight sending the light commuter craft a whole 180 degrees before lifting into the air and crashing on its port side. The sub orbiter sheered it’s underbelly cutting right into its fuel lines on takeoff before flipping over at high takeoff speeds breaking the sub orbiter apart before exploding into a horrifying ball of flames. What a horrifying sight!

  Two-hundred-thirty-three souls were lost in a split second. Another two dozen would die from their injuries at local hospitals while scores of people remained injured. Fortunately, Aya was not one of those lost, but from the second file footage, Connors found it incredible that Aya survived at all. The video file was recovered from her personal communication device. Aya could be seen wearing her new scarlet coat she wore unbuttoned as she sat in her seat. A female flight attendant speaking in Japanese could be heard deep in the background advising passengers not to get out of their seats until the plane is docked at the terminal. It appeared Aya was trying to call her mother to let her know she had landed safely when suddenly the camera is jolted out of her hands. What happened next was a blur as the camera revealed open air before hitting the ground amidst loud screams followed by explosions. Clearly, there was little to see. But the violence of the collision was plain as day.

  “Stop the footage! I can’t watch anymore,” cried Connors.

  “As you wish, Sir,” replied Hopkins.

  The projection suddenly disappeared as Hopkins wheeled the stainless steel cart out of view.

  “Will you be okay, Sir?” inquired Hopkins.

  “I don’t know.”

  Within a blink of an eye, the light had been replaced by sudden darkness & cold. What dim light from the nearest star had been eclipsed by a nearer astral body making the dark sands of Eros 3117 appear even more desolate as Connors looked up to the distant stars and tried to imagine his unborn child still breathing within Aya’s womb. Then suddenly, something thuds into the sands nine meters in front of him. It was something that appeared from out of nowhere. Whatever it was it somehow had been fired into the dark sands protruding at an angle one meter long. Its black jagged edges appeared menacing and unnatural.

  “What the hell is that?” exclaimed Connors.

  To his alarm, a dim green light beam began appeared and began to pulsate from the top leading edge of the black jagged edged object.

  “That can’t be man-made,” pondered Connors.

  “Hopkins? You still there?” nervously asked Connors.

  Hopkins failed to reply. Connors strained himself to turn his battered body over so he could see over his shoulder. He could see Hopkins standing over another one of these sinister looking meter long black rod like probes with a jagged knife-like edge. To Connors’ astonishment, Hopkins gestured to him with his index finger to his lips not to make a sound as he pointed out the dozen or so probes that landed in the sands surrounding him.

  ‘This can’t be good,’ thought Connors.

  An alien unknown had pierced his sense of delusion and desolation. What remained real was yet to be seen.

  “Hopkins,” called Connors.

  “Yes, Sir Mike.”

  “I don’t like this,” said Connors.

  “Like what, Sir?” asked Hopkins.

  “Those things! They’re giving me the creeps,” said Connors.

  Hopkins looked about the sinister looking probes rubbing his calm white-gloved hands along their sharp leading edges.

  “I don’t know about you but whoever sent those things probably don’t have the best of intentions,” speculated Connors.

  “I am inclined to agree with you, Sir,” concurred Hopkins.

  As if the mounting tension could get any more uncomfortable, Hopkins sharply turned his head to the left at the crack of a distant sound reminiscent of thunder mixed with a high amplitude electro wave. Then there off in the distance, Hopkins could see what appeared to be a faint eerie green glow like that emitted from the tops of the jagged black probes sticking out of the sands. The sense of alarm became further heightened as Hopkins pointed the approaching glow of green lights.

  “Sir, I believe it is in your best interests that we best help you move away from here,” suggested Hopkins.

  “Agreed,” concurred Connors.

  Hopkins reached under Connors armpits and slowly dragged him ten meters away from the ring of jagged probes encircling the crash site. Connors was propped up against a small black rock outcrop where he reached down to his right leg to reach to see if the small pistol he normally stashed in the bottom leg pocket was still there. Sure enough, the disassembled weapon was in a brown square pack disguised as a bandage pack. Connors quickly unpacked the three pieces and quickly assembled them by attaching the barrel to the grip & trigger then loaded the one magazine before sliding off the safety ready for use.

  Connors sat there gripping his small pistol in hopes he would not have to use it in self-defense for whatever was coming around the corner.

  “Sir, your digital defensive screen is available. Would you like me to activate it?” asked Hopkins.

  Connors shook his head indicating a yes on his part for he had forgotten that his LSS suit came with a camouflage light refracting screen with a three-meter range enough to cover two people should they encounter hostile situations where they must remain hidden until rescue. By appearance, Connors disappeared from the outcropping as Hopkins kicked away the trail in the sand from where he dragged Connors.

  In the blink of an eye, Hopkins disappeared from sight as a strange low electro hum could be heard. Connors did his best to remain calm as he could see beams of that same green light scan the grounds searching. As far as Connors was concerned, nobody he knew of including the Chinese, Europeans, Japanese or even his own countrymen searched with such dim green lights. Whoever they were, they didn’t e
mit that warm fuzzy feeling one would expect from friendly rescuers. In any case, a man in Connors situation would have to rely on both his training and his instinct to survive. Would he by chance have the fortune to be rescued by “friendlies” of unknown origin? This was not was not something Connors was willing to leave to chance given his own internal alarm bells and Hopkins concern that he was willing to gamble with. Especially given their menacing looking calling cards sticking out of the uncomfortable sands. Not a chance!

  Without any communication hail of any kind, Connors had to presume that whoever was scouting the surface was likely hostile. As Connors sat there with his finger on the trigger of his small pistol, he nervously awaited his fate and hoped that his digital screen would hold out against any potential electromagnetic interference the hostiles may bring along with them. While he himself had never seen an alien nor was sure of their existence, Connors was not about to take any chances.

  As the pressure mounted, Connors closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them up again, he could see scores of massive indescribable black reflective craft hovering one-hundred meters above the surface scanning the black sands in what appeared to be a search like a pattern.

  ‘Maybe they mean no harm? Perhaps this was just another search party? Are my injuries and lack of oxygen making me see things different?’ he wondered.

  Such questions quickly went out the door as soon as the black vessels cut their green search beams and drifted away off into the horizon. Connors breathed a sigh of relief. But no sooner than he placed his pistol onto his lap, a disturbing sound could be heard coming his way.

  Whoop-whoop went the slow-moving sound heard abound. It reminded of the sounds helicopters made when you slow it down in an editing bay. But these were no choppers! Slow moving shadows appeared of large eight-foot black figures with hoses protruding from their helmets walked right past where Connors hid. They carried a large rifle like weapons that were black in color and reflected light much like their armored space suits. Whoever they were, they did not look friendly.

  Connors dared not to move an inch as these black troopers from another unknown world scouted past him. They moved like a hunting party with Connors their likely prey. Where they real? Or just another oxygen starved hallucination? For him, there was no way to tell how to be sure anymore. He could only go along with these strange sensations as he suddenly felt Aya’s arms wrap around him as he lay there in the dark of their Osaka high rise bedroom at night.