House of the Galactic Elevator (A Beginner’s Guide to Invading Earth Book 2)

by Gerhard Gehrke

So the Director’s outlook would have to be pretty black and white. But would his opinion be different if the Director had been there to meet Oliop when Oliop had stolen an elevator and came to Earth for his own look at humankind? Jeff doubted it.

  So what had happened to the aliens evacuated to Earth during the Bunnie Invasion?

  “Hey, buddy,” Jeff said. “So do you guys have in your care some guests from out of town?”

  The guard stood without moving a muscle. This guy would give a Buckingham Palace Guard a run for his money for stoically standing at his post.

  “And by guests, I mean aliens. Are there any here? A little grey one? Looks like a deformed naked baby with no nose, grown for a couple of years in a vat? How about a hairy, skinny guy with a tail? Any of these ring a bell?”

  No answer. Jeff poured some water from a plastic pitcher into a paper cup. It was lukewarm, but Jeff was thirsty and the water felt good on his throat. The light through the window got lighter. No one came for a while and the guard stayed mute.

  Jeff was afraid of falling asleep. Would he slip back into the game world? Was he somehow in one still?

  The portal was there in his head, beckoning him like a loose tooth. He just had to wiggle it enough and he would go back in. Maybe find Jordan and help her with whatever mess she had gotten into. But what could he do from inside a game?

  He sized up the guard. The man might not be physically stronger than Jeff, but his bearing and Marine Corps hairdo told Jeff that he was probably ex-military, paramilitary, or at least knew secret agent kung fu. These people in dark suits had to receive some kind of extensive combat training. All the better to keep the extraterrestrials under wraps.

  Jeff tested the floor with his foot. It felt solid enough. He didn’t see any floor hatchways. With time, tools, and less supervision, Jeff could pull this entire temp house apart and escape.

  A chime went off. Jeff looked at the guard, as perhaps the man’s phone had made the sound, but the guard just stood there as before. Jeff heard the chime again. It was inside his head, a single clear note. The loose tooth sensation intensified.

  “Leave me alone,” Jeff said.

  “Come back,” someone said. The voice echoed in his head for a moment. It was Zachary from the psych hospital. “I miss you.”

  Jeff hummed a low note and rubbed his ears. Clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to remove the translator, but the device itself seemed to itch. It felt like seeing a tick embedded into his thigh, yet purposefully trying to ignore it.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Zachary said. “Come back and I’ll help you find Jordan. And we can play the game together. You’re good at it. You already earned the tablet. There’s more prizes to discover. We can defeat Doctor Carol together and rule this place. You’ll advance to higher levels above any other player that’s come before you. Most are content just wallowing in the doubt of being inside here, but you wouldn’t give up. I admire that. Come play.”

  “Shut up!” Jeff yelled.

  “Do it for the girl.”

  “I said shut up! Get out of my head!”

  Jeff got down on his knees, put his head against the wall, and was about to reach into the null-space pouch when he heard voices, not Zachary’s.

  “I don’t know, he just started yelling,” the guard was saying.

  Doctor Cochran crouched next to him. She put a cool hand to his forehead.

  “Jeff, are you okay?”

  Jeff looked at her for a long moment before nodding.

  “Let me get you back into bed.”

  The Director walked to the foot of the bed as Doctor Cochran got Jeff up. A hard look crossed his face.

  “Everything’s under control,” Doctor Cochran said. “I’m going to check his vitals.”

  “What was he screaming?” the Director asked.

  “‘Get out of my head,’” the guard said.

  The Director got close, leaned in. “Who’s in your head, Mr. Abel? What alien is doing this to you?”

  Doctor Cochran sat Jeff on the bed and waved a finger in front of his eyes. She shined a pen light that momentarily blinded him. She next snapped her fingers next to Jeff’s ear. She took an infrared thermometer from her shirt pocket and put it in Jeff’s ear.

  “His blood tests all looked normal,” Doctor Cochran said. “And he seems fine. What happened, Jeff?”

  “You took a blood sample?” Jeff asked.

  He checked his arms. One had a small tab of cotton and a piece of tape on it. He hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Of course we did,” the Director said. “We also took a skin sample and a fingernail sample for a keratin test. You’ve been exposed to alien bacteria and any number of microbes. You also might be a drug addict. The only reason we don’t have you locked away is that this entire camp is under quarantine. We’re all here to stay for a long while. But what I’m more interested in is what else the aliens might have done to you. It’s time for you to tell us everything.”

  “I feel like I’ve been pretty forthcoming,” Jeff said. “Maybe even guilty of oversharing.”

  “Of course you have.” The Director smiled with one corner of his mouth. “But everyone holds something back. The more you tell us now, the more we can help you avoid getting into any trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble are we talking about?” Jeff asked.

  “Well, the aliens came here for you. That makes you at least indirectly responsible for bringing some two thousand infectious life forms to our country. If we discover any intent on your part, there will be criminal charges leveled against you.”

  Some chatter came over the Director’s radio. He held up a finger when Jeff was about to speak. With a click, the Director turned the radio off. He then gestured for Jeff to continue.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jeff said. “You’re accusing me of what? Being some kind of extraterrestrial coyote? You think these aliens came here to help with the artichoke harvest? It's that time of year in California.”

  Doctor Cochran stayed silent. She had a pressure cuff on Jeff’s left arm. She inflated the cuff and it squeezed. Numbers appeared on a digital device in her hands.

  “Don’t be foolish,” the Director said. “The truth is we have no idea why these aliens are here. We have only your story to go by that this is all some accident. They don’t seem to have a leader. It’s possible this is the first wave of more to follow. It’s possible that the Bunnie interrupted them. Maybe the Bunnie are the heroes in this narrative, as we never got to capture any of them. That’s why you need to fill in a few more blanks.”

  “That’s just stupid,” Jeff said. “Were you at Stuart Lake when the Bunnie tore the place up? They would have done worse if they hadn’t used our world as a jumping-off point. If the visitors you’re holding are here for invasion, where are their weapons?”

  “Just because we haven’t found any weapons, that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Maybe the next wave will have them. Maybe your alien friends screwed up and the weapons got lost in transportation.”

  “That’s a lot of speculation that assumes the worst of a group of extraterrestrials that probably just want to go back home.”

  Doctor Cochran put her gear away. “He looks okay. You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

  “No.”

  “He’s fine, Director. Maybe we just need to let him rest.”

  The Director dismissed her with a wave. “We’re nowhere close to done. Let’s go back to what you were yelling about.”

  Another guard came into the room. This one had a flat nose. He walked behind the original guard and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “What are you doing here?” the first guard asked. “You’re on transportation duty.”

  Flat Nose held what looked like a ball of wet yellow cheese in one hand. He took the dripping lump and, in a blur of motion, stuffed it into the first guard’s face.

  The guard let out a gagging sound. He pitched about, scratching at his face. Whatever the evi
l yellow substance was, it clung to the guard’s skin and across the man’s nose and mouth. The ball of goo flattened. It moved up the guard’s nose and over his eyes. Then it forced its way in through every orifice.

  The guard began to make retching sounds and tried to scream. He fell to his knees. His fingers pulled at the stuff, but it was like fighting honey. It didn’t pull free, and it didn’t let him breathe.

  The Director had a weapon out. Jeff saw it was a taser, with yellow ribbing and a small double door at its end where the darts would shoot out.

  Flat Nose didn’t stop moving. He sidestepped the choking guard and came forward. He was doing something strange with his throat. It rippled and stretched and contracted, and he made a gurgling sound.

  The air filled with a rancid smell.

  “Get away from him!” Jeff shouted.

  The Director took aim with the taser. “Stop right there, agent.”

  Flat Nose stopped. He then projectile-vomited a mouthful of the goop into the Director’s face. It struck the Director with a wet slap. The Director fired, the twin darts flying upward toward the ceiling, two thin wires spooling from the weapon. The taser made a clicking sound as it discharged its 100,000 volts into the air.

  It was the Director’s turn to gag as he struggled against the spit. Flat Nose was doubled over and panting, as if spitting up like that had drained him of his strength.

  “Move!” Jeff said as he pushed Doctor Cochran towards the door.

  The first guard rose and leaned back on the door as if to keep himself from falling. The goo was no longer on his face. Jeff didn’t see a trace of it anywhere. A dry rattle escaped from his lips.

  “Stay a moment,” the guard said in a small voice still short of breath.

  “We’ll pass,” Doctor Cochran said as she rushed forward and drove a knee into the guard’s groin.

  The guard collapsed with a grunt. Jeff pushed him aside and they headed out the door.

  Once outside, Doctor Cochran produced a radio. “We’ve got a containment breach at building seven,” she said. “All available units, respond. We need everybody!”

  They were moving between several identical bland shoe-box buildings, all made of the same temporary construction, as if whatever agency was hosting this particular function had raided FEMA for its surplus. A group of five soldiers stood at the door of one of the buildings. They looked at Jeff and the doctor and pointed before heading towards them.

  “We’re going to need environment suits,” Doctor Cochran said as she strode towards the soldiers. “There’s some sort of transmittable pathogen –”

  Jeff saw one of the guards make a motion as if he were spitting a wad of gum into a tissue. Another did the same.

  Jeff grabbed her shoulder. “We need to run.”

  Doctor Cochran must have seen it too, as she ducked between two of the buildings.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  Jeff struggled to keep up.

  “Stop right there!” one of the soldiers shouted.

  Bright predawn sunlight began to illuminate the sky in ever-lighter shades of grey, but the shadows between the building remained dark. Doctor Cochran led them on a zig-zag pattern to the back of a giant barn. The structure appeared similar in construction to the smaller buildings, but it looked as if it could hold a jumbo jet. They stopped at an unlit corner. Jeff could see a line of the parked black Chevy Suburbans that were this agency’s ubiquitous mode of transportation. He also saw a helicopter. Past a row of tents stood a tall fenced-off compound, complete with concertina wire and guard towers with spotlights.

  “Is that where you’re keeping the aliens?” Jeff asked.

  Doctor Cochran nodded.

  “Then that’s where I’m going,” he said.

  “No, you can’t. They need to stay contained.”

  “Listen, Doc, your containment has failed. There’s people in there that can help.”

  It was hard to see her expression in the low light. “But those are the aliens.”

  “And one of them is my best friend.”

  She grabbed him by the arm. “You can talk to them.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yup. But I’m thinking I don’t have time to explain that right now. Can we get inside?”

  They heard the sounds of footsteps heading their way. She took them to one of the tents attached to the fenced compound. They passed through a long curtained-off series of compartments with small vats of bleach, shower nozzles, and environmental suits. Doctor Cochran pushed through each curtain slowly, peering inside before beckoning Jeff to follow.

  “The guards that are supposed to be here are gone,” she said. “What is going on?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They entered the main room of the tent. Amber lights overhead gave everything inside a warm glow. White hospital partitions divided the ward up into more than a dozen spaces, each with its own bed. A sampling of the Galactic Commons citizens missing since the Bunnie Invasion were here, standing, sitting, or reclining.

  “Exit game,” Jeff said softly.

  “What?” Doctor Cochran said.

  “Nothing. Let me do the talking.”

  “Obviously.”

  He approached one tall fellow with a hunched back and a horned snout.

  “Hey buddy,” Jeff said. “I’m looking for a Grey and a skinny guy with a tail.”

  The big alien gave him a blank expression.

  “Don’t play stupid, I know you can understand me.”

  “I tried that,” Doctor Cochran said. “I never got any traction on that line of inquiry.”

  “There’s no time to waste here,” Jeff said. “If you’ve seen them, if anyone here has seen them, I need to know. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  A big squishy thing with clear skin and visible organs perked up. It looked like a giant version of something Jeff had seen under a microscope in high school. Jeff understood its body language via translator. It took interest in what Jeff was saying.

  “You mean take us home?” the squishy thing said.

  “Shhh,” the big hunchback said in a low grumble. “It’s a human trick.”

  “Well this human just understood what you just said,” Jeff said. “I have a translator.”

  The hunchbacked alien gave no reaction.

  An electric alarm began to blare throughout the camp. The bleating single note caused all in the room to perk up.

  Jeff sighed. “We don’t have time for this.” He reached behind his head into the null-space pouch and took out the translator. He held up the die-sized object for all to see.

  “What…is that?” Doctor Cochran said.

  “Translator,” Jeff said. “You only get them from the Galactic Commons. Maybe you folks have been out of the loop, but I’m one of two humans who have been accepted as members.” This was only a partial truth, as Jeff’s original translator came from the Grey who had kidnapped him. That unit had contained a tracking device. Jeff had gotten a new one since then.

  Jeff was about to put the translator back into its pouch when he noticed a worm sticking halfway out of it. It took all of his willpower to not fling the translator away or throw it to the ground and stomp on it. Where had the worm come from? Had it gotten on him back at the transportation terminal? He and Oliop had stayed clear of the worms except for the one Oliop had grabbed to fix the elevator.

  The Grey could have done it. The little bugger could have taken the worm from the elevator after their transit to Earth. The Grey could have a bucket of the things in a pocket. And it had slapped him on the back when they entered the hangar. That was the last thing he could remember before waking up at the virtual hospital. The worm had done it somehow, installed the games in his head, infected him with Zachary and the host of other personalities, including a simulation of his ex-wife that could only have been drawn from his own memories.

  This was worse than being hacked, worse than having someone burgle you or read your private journal without permission
. Jeff’s hand trembled. His stomach twisted and he thought he might throw up. He heard one of the aliens speak and it sounded like a jibber-jabber of sounds. Jeff touched the worm and saw it was fixed firmly in place. If he took it out, the translator might break. He took a deep breath and put the worm-infused translation unit back in the pouch behind his head.

  The detainees in the room looked at one another, then at the big alien. The big guy asked, “So you’re here to take us home?”

  “Working on it,” Jeff said. “But first, I’m looking for two someones.”

  ***

  The big hunchback with the horn was named Toggs, and he led Jeff and an inquisitive Doctor Cochran who wasn’t getting her questions answered to an attached compartment of the tent with more beds. There they found Oliop seated on an unconscious guard. Oliop had all of the guard’s gadgets spread out before him. The items were in various stages of being disassembled.

  “Jeff Abel!” Oliop said.

  Oliop sprang up and grabbed Jeff as if he were about to kiss him.

  “I was about to rescue you,” Oliop said.

  Doctor Cochran recoiled. Jeff remembered first hearing Oliop speak without benefit of translation. He sounded like an irate chimp about to bite your face.

  “He’s okay,” Jeff said. “He won’t hurt you.”

  “Nope,” Oliop said.

  Doctor Cochran kept Toggs between herself and Oliop. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t,” Irving the Grey said, stepping out from a hospital screen. He had a stunner in his hands.

  “That explains what happened to the guard,” Jeff said.

  “I’m sorry, Jeff Abel,” Oliop said. “We found some of the refugees’ possessions. I stole the weapon when the guard wasn’t looking.”

  “And how did Irving wind up with it?”

  “He took it from me.”

  Kwed came winding in from another entrance. He settled in next to Irving the Grey and said, “There’s a problem outside the wire with the humans. They seem to be running around like they’re under attack. Something most strange. But some of the guards are missing. This is our opportunity to make our escape.”