by Craig Gaydas
The camera panned to the side revealing a video screen and I recognized the room as the one Calypso took me to when I first came aboard the Cirrus. The video on the screen was also familiar. Kedge stiffened behind me when he recognized his home planet. It was the invasion of Mars.
“What you see here is an invasion by these very same people many years ago. As you can see they spared no one then and they won't spare any of you. They will approach you under false pretenses. They will pretend to want to help you and just as you are ready to trust them they will stab you in the back.” His eyes burned with anger, but his words dripped in charm. I knew they would win over the people of Earth.
“So this is how he's going to do it,” I said.
“What do you mean?” asked Wraith.
Calypso continued before I could answer, but his words confirmed my fears.
“But all is not lost, people of Earth,” Calypso continued. “I bring you hope and the technology that will aid you in defense against the interlopers. The United Nations building, from what I understand, is a meeting place for the governments of the world. This would be an adequate place for us to meet and discuss the strategy of defense. I will arrive shortly so we can begin discussing a mutually beneficial partnership.”
The screen briefly went black before reverting to whatever newscast had been going on at the time. A lot of confused reporters around the world were left gripping pages of old news. We were so focused on Calypso that we forgot all about Shai, who smiled smugly from the Argus.
“So you guys ready to come back yet? As you witnessed, it is pointless to remain on the planet.” His smile widened and he trained the barrel of the gun on Lianne. “You're the bad guys now.” He roared with laughter and the guards joined in.
I was about to tell him to go screw off when Lianne wrapped her bound hands around the nearest guard's throat. He let out a surprised squeal and fired his weapon, hitting the guard next to him. Satou sprang up and shoulder tackled his closest guard. Shai's jaw dropped and he tried to mark a target with the rifle. Embeth leapt forward and kicked him in the chest, knocking him into a chair. The screen went black before we could see the outcome.
Klax ran to the radio console. “This is Sergeant Major Klax from the Shuttle Navetta. This hail goes out to anyone surrounding the Argus. The hostages are battling back, board the ship now!”
“This is Captain Daranan of the DFS Swallowtail, we received your message.” There was a brief commotion in the background, like several muffled voices shouting orders at each other. “Boarding has commenced.”
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“Judging by the video it seems Calypso is still aboard the Cirrus,” replied Wraith. “They attacked the Pentagon so they must be somewhere between there and the United Nations building.”
“We have to find him and take him out before he persuades the people of Earth to turn against us,” I asserted.
“Well what are we waiting for?” growled Kedge.
“Sir, if Calypso is in that area, my scanners are not picking him up,” Gard said.
“There is nothing on the shuttle scanners either,” replied the soldier at the controls.
“We know where he is going,” I said. “Can we intercept him?”
Klax shook his head. “New York City is too populated. We would be stopped by human authorities as soon as we stepped foot onto the streets.”
It would be too obvious, I thought. What was I thinking? Oh yes, Mister Officer, don't mind us parading through your streets with hand cannons and stun knuckles dressed like we just raided the bargain bin at the wetsuit supply store. Oh and don't mind those guys in golden armor behind us, they are part of the freak show.
“What are you thinking?” Kedge snapped me out of my trance.
I pushed the doubt out of my mind and tried to focus on the problem at hand. “The answer is obvious, we have to intercept him.”
“DFS Swallowtail to Shuttle Navetta, please respond.”
Klax grabbed the radio. “This is Shuttle Navetta, go ahead.”
“We have conducted a sweep and clear of the Argus. We managed to subdue most of the intruders, but several have escaped from Docking Bay 1.”
“And Shai?” Klax asked.
“Not on board.”
“What about Satou and Lianne?” I exclaimed.
“What was that Navetta? I didn't catch that.”
“How are the people aboard the Argus?” Klax asked. “Casualty report?”
“Twelve dead, including Captain Jasper. Most of the dead were part of Embeth's crew. Tek the communications officer and Marle the detention guard were among the dead. Embeth and Captain Lianne are OK.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned in to the microphone. “What about Satou?”
“Satou is OK and attending to the injured.”
Wraith and I exchanged relieved glances. Losing a captain was bad, but losing two members of the Council would have been a disaster.
Our screen came to life and the sour face of Embeth peered at us. He appeared battle weary and sported a gash along the left side of his face that oozed blood. Someone from the Medical Lab worked feverishly to close the wound but Embeth kept waving him off. Exasperated, the doctor moved on to other patients.
“Klax, status report!”
Klax explained everything up to and including Calypso's newscast. Embeth's face went from sour to furious by the time Klax was done.
“Do we know where Calypso is?”
“We are still scanning but haven't been able to lock in on him,” Klax explained.
“I will send another shuttle,” Embeth offered.
“No!” I blurted. A puzzled expression crossed his face and everyone aboard the shuttle turned toward me. “I can't speak for other governments but the United States will be on military alert after Calypso's little stunt. They will be scouring land, sea and air.”
“What do you propose we do,” asked Embeth.
I thought about his question for a moment. After eliminating every scenario that would either destroy us or the planet I came to one logical conclusion. I battled with it, but no matter what argument I came up with, it still won in the end. I moved in front of the screen and told him my idea.
“Send me home.”
Follow The Dusty Trail
“Are you sure about this?” Wraith asked.
After explaining my plan, Embeth decided it was the safest course of action. Kedge questioned whether anyone on Earth would believe my story but suggested that I take something from the Consortium's arsenal to prove my point. Embeth, however, squashed that idea because he didn't feel comfortable leaving Consortium weaponry in the hands of humans. Eventually, after several minutes bickering among ourselves, Wraith handed me a portable Sustanant. We agreed an object that could make food out of space poop should win over any skeptics, without endangering lives.
Wraith, Kedge, Gard and I boarded the Navetta, leaving behind the contingent of soldiers to continue scanning for signs of Calypso. We headed for our destination—Carlsbad, New Mexico.
We landed about a half mile from a very familiar cave. I loaded the Sustanant into a backpack and strapped it on. During the trip, I also changed into the clothes I wore at the cave. It would be too much of a psychological shock if I showed up wearing an alien wetsuit. They accompanied me down the ramp and for the first time since my fateful trip long ago, I stepped foot upon my home turf.
“Welcome home, Nathan,” Kedge said and admired the surroundings. “Much of this reminds me of Mars.”I sympathized with his sorrowful expression.
“How far do you live from here?” Wraith asked.
I pointed toward a ridge off to the east. About two miles that way. I rode my bike, but I wonder if it's still here.
We traveled to the mouth of the cave but the bike wasn't there.
“Guess I'm hoofing it from here,” I muttered.
“That's a long way to carry that thing,” Kedge said, gesturing toward the backpack.
“I'll be OK, I know most of the back roads.” I turned toward the dusty trail leading from the cave but someone stopped me. It was Kedge.
“Good luck.” He gripped his staff tightly and surveyed the horizon. His words seemed to be directed toward the sky rather than to me. “I'm more machine than man now and have lived well past my natural life span. I admit time taken its toll on me. Long ago, I yearned to be the avenger of mankind, to right the wrongs perpetrated against Mars.” He shrugged. “It's weird how fate deals its hand in life, isn't it?”
I said nothing because I viewed the pain in his face while he purged his conscience.
“Mankind doesn't need an avenger now,” he continued. “It needs a savior. The task belongs to you now, Nathan.”
“Thanks, that's not a lot of pressure or anything,” I grumbled.
Kedge smiled. “It is what it is.” He threw his staff over his shoulder and fastened it to his back.
He said no more so I turned toward the trail and left them behind. As they faded in the distance my mind focused on what I would tell my parents when I saw them. I had been gone so long I was most likely presumed dead by now. Hopefully, I won't give them a heart attack when my `ghost' strolls through the door.
I followed National Parks Highway north until I came upon a familiar convenience store—Qwik Mart. It was one Sam and I stopped at a few times to pick up drinks and an occasional rubbery hot dog—stores in the middle of nowhere weren't usually known for their cuisine. I was going to walk past until my dry throat forced me to stop. The store had a water fountain inside for the local hunters who stopped in and grabbed a quick drink as they gassed up.
I stepped inside and the clerk had his feet propped up on the counter reading a magazine—Weekly World News. When I headed toward the water fountain he grunted, leaned back in his chair and eyeballed me from the top of the magazine.
On my way down the aisle, I glanced at the newspapers stacked against the wall and my heart stopped. My picture was on the front page next to a headline: MISSING CHILD PRESUMED DEAD. I glanced around to make sure no one stood nearby then moved in to get a closer view.
Authorities have arrested a local, 27-year-old in the case of a missing Carlsbad teenager who vanished three months ago from nearby Carlsbad Caverns. According to an eyewitness, the suspect, Mark Roberts, was seen hiking in the area close to where the teenager was last seen. Mr. Roberts was convicted of assault and kidnapping in 2007 of 14-year-old Tommy Roberts, his younger brother. At the time it had been considered a domestic incident—
A case of vertigo hit me and I had to steady myself against a stack of Doritos. I shook my head and tried to regain my composure. An innocent man was about to take the rap for my disappearance. It was even more imperative that I get home and tell my story. I rushed past the clerk—who cast a suspicious glance toward me—before hitting the road again.
I reached my house twenty minutes later. It wasn't much of a house, more like a double-wide trailer—pretty standard for families of park rangers. They weren't exactly paid like Wall Street bankers. A frown formed when I saw the exterior of the home. The grass (what was left of it from the desert heat) was a brownish-green carpet that resembled a case of mange. The home's exterior (once a bright lime-green color that my mother hated) was nothing more than old pea soup, peeling from several corners. My parents' vehicles were not in the driveway and I wondered if they moved after my disappearance. I trudged up the dusty driveway, stepped on the front porch and checked under the mat. My parents used to leave a key for me when I came home from school because they were never home when I arrived. The key was there in its usual spot. Even though three months had passed they still held hope that I would return one day. I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“Hello?”
The house was silent. It was also a wreck. Fast food wrappers were strewn all over the kitchen table. The microwave looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a decade. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink and about 2 inches of dust settled on every item in the place. In the living room I spied a photo frame lying face down on the table. When I flipped it over, my emotions got the better of me. It was the same picture I had aboard the ship—the picture of my parents and I in Corpus Christi. The photo was the only thing in the house that didn't have dust on it which meant it had been handled recently.
I wiped the tears aside and put the picture down. “Mom? Dad?” Only silence responded.
A clock above the entertainment center read 3:35 pm. My mother would be due home in less than an hour. Even though we were pressed for time, I decided to plop down on the couch and wait.
At 4:15 pm a car pulled into the driveway. I ran to the living room window and peered outside. My mother stepped out, carrying a bag of groceries. She seemed like she had aged ten years over the past three months. I wiped some more tears aside and turned toward the door. Luckily for me, she didn't realize the door had already been unlocked as she juggled her keys and the bag of groceries. After unlocking the already unlocked door she walked through it and closed it behind her. She tossed her keys on the counter but froze. She slowly turned and her gaze fell on me. We stared at each other in a parody of an Old West standoff. Neither of us seemed to comprehend the other, like we were both phantoms doomed to haunt each other for eternity.
I cracked first. “Hi Mom.”
For a minute she stood, frozen with uncertainty. Before I moved toward her, she ran across the room and wrapped me in a bear hug. I dropped my backpack and returned the squeeze.
“Oh my God, you're alive,” she bawled.
My parents and I have not really seen eye-to-eye on most things, but at that moment I wanted to remain in her embrace forever. I remembered why I had come back, however, and released my grip. She stared at me, wide-eyed and rapid fired questions at me: Where have I been? Am I OK? What happened?
“Wait a minute, Mom, I have something very important to tell you.”
“Are you hungry, Nathan? Let me make you something to eat, my God you look like you lost fifty pounds.” She picked up the groceries scattered along the floor and hurried into the kitchen.
“No, wait—”
“Were you kidnapped? Oh what am I saying, of course you were, look at you. Your clothes are a mess, you look two steps away from a skeleton.” She yanked a pot from the cabinet, slammed it on the stove and dumped a can of soup in.
I almost chuckled because she looked worse than I did. She must have lost at least twenty pounds and gained ten of it back in gray hair. She used to dress nice (business casual) for work, but judging by her wrinkled, disheveled look a long time had passed since she last cared about her appearance.
“Mom, I need to tell you—”
“Oh God, I almost forgot. You must be thirsty, let me get you some juice.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a juice box.
When she placed it on the counter, I noticed it came from a package of juice boxes they bought before I vanished. My parents never threw them out, supporting my theory that they hoped I would return someday.
I grabbed the drink and took a huge swallow. “Mom, stop for a minute I have to tell you something important.”
The frenzied tone in my voice caused her to pause in the middle of stirring the soup. She stopped and blinked. “What is it, Nathan?”
“I was abducted,” I admitted. “But it's not what you think.”
I picked up my backpack and placed it on the counter. I started to open it when she stopped me.
“Was it that bastard Roberts?”
I flinched. Three months of uncertainty had allowed for a lot of anger to well up inside her and she was prepared to release it.
I shook my head. “No, Mom it wasn't him. You aren't going to believe me when I tell you, so I brought this.”
I dropped the Sustanant on the counter and her anger switched to confusion.
“You brought me a microwave?”
I sighed and stared at the ceiling. “It's not a microwave and I wasn't abducted
by a person. I was taken by…” I paused, knowing how ridiculous the words would sound before they even left my lips. “I was taken by aliens.”
“Illegal?”
At first I didn't understand but then I remembered our proximity to the Mexican border. I almost let out a chuckle at her naivety, but bit it back.
“No, not those aliens.” I pointed toward the ceiling. “Those aliens.”
Her confusion changed to disbelief. “Nathan, this is no time to joke. We need to call the police.”
“It's no joke, that is why I brought this.” I gestured toward the Sustanant. “Watch this.”
She came around the counter and stood next to me while I ordered a cheeseburger from the machine. I held it out to her and she shrugged.
“So it's a microwave. I don't understand how that is supposed to prove anything.”
“Watch this.” I ordered a glass of milk and pulled it out. “Do microwaves come with milk?”
She eyeballed it suspiciously.
“Go ahead and taste it.”
She took the glass and lifted it to her lips. Her eyes widened and the suspicion faded.
“Good God, it tastes like milk.”
“It is milk, Mom. This machine can make just about anything I want. The Consortium call it a Sustanant.”
“The who?”
I rubbed my hand through my hair and leaned against the counter.
“You may want to sit down for this.”
Gut Check
“Oh my God.”
I finished explaining everything from the cave to the battle above Earth. My mother looked at me like I had three heads during the entire rehashing of the tale. She tried to rebut it by using the words `hallucinogenic drugs' and `post-traumatic stress disorder', but no matter how many fancy medical terms she applied to my situation, there was one thing she couldn't refute—the food producing box that resembled a microwave perched on the counter.
“Mom, I understand this is a lot to absorb but I need you to trust me. This is very important, I need you to book me a flight to New York.”
“New York? What the hell for?” She looked angry.