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The Reluctant Emissary (The Annunak Series Book 1)

Page 7

by TM Toombs


  Climbing into the open cage of the rover, he found the controls mimicked the Can-Am side-by-side ATV he’d had as a kid. The small steering wheel tilted to accommodate a bulky spacesuit. The dash display had all the usual: a digital speedometer, tachometer and odometer as well as the gear shifter. There were a couple of unlabeled gauges off to the side that appeared to be after-market additions.

  He located a remote control for the hanger door built into the dashboard. He jabbed it with a gloved finger and watched as the door retracted upwards out of the way. Pushing the ignition button, the rover silently sprang to life.

  “Huh,” he muttered. “Must be electric or something.” One of the unmarked gauges indicated "full." He hoped that was for the power and not something like full air in the balloon-like tires. He made another mental note to look around the garage for a charging station when he got back. The last thing he needed was a dead battery on his only set of wheels.

  Putting it into gear, he slowly rolled out of the garage and pointed the vehicle straight ahead. Where had the seismic waves come from? Not having mountains or the ocean around, he found it unsettling, if not difficult, to get his bearings on foreign soil. He scanned the GPS system on the dash to navigate while wondering if it was in some way connected to the system that monitored the outer perimeter. Man, this navigation crap is way over my head. I kinda wished I’d paid a little more attention to those boring lectures in science class instead of flirting with Carly Ann Riggs. He smiled, thinking about Carly's red curls in the seat in front of him but instantly regretted the thought as Anna's face morphed into his mind, her smile teasing, playful, and all-too understanding...

  He closed his eyes briefly, shook off the sadness that threatened to settle in and forced his gaze to skim over the landscape before him.

  Without roads, he opted to pick a path of least resistance. He found a long stretch of mostly flat terrain and headed off. Hours passed by without much change in the surroundings. Just more of the same old, boring, flat-ass moon. At least there’s a crack here and there. Yet none of the cracks looked fresh, at least to his inexperienced eyes.

  He continued to scan the bleak topography, searching for anything more unusual than him being on the surface of a far-flung moon looking for hostile aliens.

  Hostile aliens. Slowing the rover until it crawled to a stop, Eshan put it into park and mulled over the words.

  “What the hell am I doing out here?” He clambered out of the rover and walked a few feet away. Miles of barren dead grey nothingness stretched out far in front of him. In the dim lit daylight of this tiny moon from a far-flung planet, even his shadow blurred into a vague image of his pale life. Like the landscape of his future, his present landscape offered little more than loneliness—and danger.

  “What am I thinking? I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know what I might run into! What if there really are hostile aliens out here? I’m certainly not going to scare them off with my evil glare. I’m an idiot!”

  His eyes darted around as he hop-jogged back to the safety of the rover and scrambled into the seat. Thrusting the gear into drive and stomping on the pedal, he turned the rover around and headed back for the HAB. A sudden flash on the dash caught his eye. The low battery indicator blinked red. Low? How low? His hand curled into a fist at an impulse to smack the less-than-useful gauges. A sharp pain from his still healing wounds in his hands brought him to his senses. As he sped back the way he'd come, he wondered if he'd gone too far to get back before the rover quit. The sounds of his heart pounding in his ears measured the bleak miles.

  Eshan looked at the watch built into the left arm of his suit. Battery life of five hours. Got it. Speed and distance is not your strong point, little rover. As he began to fear that he’d be walking the rest of the way home, the distant bump in the horizon turned out to be the HAB. Never thought I’d be so relieved to see that again.”

  Chapter 6

  This morning’s drive towards the deep canyon to south of the HAB dragged on with such monotony that it appeared as if he made no progress. The land spread out flat and the few pockmarks that pitted the landscape looked just like all the other pimpled holes he'd passed. He'd come to dread these mandatory rover-abouts, not for fear of what he might find, although that loomed in his nightmares. No, it was the sheer boredom of this dull moonscape. He'd taken the rover out several times now, trying to keep to the prescribed schedule, although days and nights seemed to blur in this world of nearly a perpetual sunrise. The manual explained the days on this moon lasted for several months at a time. Thankfully his sentence was for one Earth year not Charon's year!

  Only the looming image of Pluto overhead kept Eshan from dozing off. Warm amber streaks and swirls etched its surface. Like looking at clouds on earth, he could nearly start to imagine a face here and an image of a goat—or was it a horse? —over there.

  He yawned again. If I don’t start getting some sleep soon, I’m going to start hallucinating. The destruction of that alarm panel had quieted things down in the HAB but sleep was still fleeting, at best.

  An intermittent flashing on the horizon to his left snagged his attention away from planet gazing. He frowned. He'd never seen any surface free enough of dust to reflect light. But, no, this was an actual light, blinking in a distinct sequence. Man-made. Or alien-made.

  He bit his lip. He could just ignore it. No one would be the wiser. Unless, of course, it was a beacon for the enemy aliens' incoming armada and all of Earth and mankind got wiped out because scaredy pants Eshan failed to alert Earth's authorities. Damn!

  He angled the rover in that direction and sped up. A row of small, jagged hills came into view near the unidentified flashes as he closed in on it. He parked the vehicle at the base of the smallest hill and scrambled to the top, dust filtering up, hanging in the air with every step.

  Don’t be an alien ship. Don’t be an alien ship. Maybe this is the start of my sleep deprivation hallucinations.

  As he summited the top, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled to a boulder a few feet away. He peered around it and down into the small, shallow valley. He sucked in air too quickly, choked and coughed.

  It didn’t look like either the cargo ship that dropped him off nor the fighter escort. And it was completely different from the only image he'd seen of a Grey's ship, but that didn't mean anything... they could have all kinds of models for different purposes. This one looked small, maybe a scout ship? Definitely bigger than Jerry’s ship. He gave the ship a once over, looking for any kinds of markings but didn’t spot anything.

  He sat back, out of view again, behind the boulder and stared up at Pluto. I could go down there and do a meet and greet with the aliens, hoping they aren’t the bad ones. The image of him shaking hands with one of the Greys gave him the willies. He shuddered involuntarily. Or I could note a few details and head back to the HAB to report the crash.

  At the least, he wasn't bored now. And he was here for a purpose. If one of the Greys had crashed and needed help, maybe he could get some kind of reprieve of his sentence for being instrumental in assisting them. He stood up and slid, hopped and jogged back down the path he'd created on the way up. Clambering into the rover, he started it up and steered it around the base of the hill toward the crashed ship.

  As he cleared the hills, he could make out more details of the ship. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It was about forty feet high and had to be at least fifty across, it looked more like a blob raising out of the moon's floor. The ship didn’t have any right angles, appearing to have sleek curves like a luxury sports car. The manual didn’t say nothin’ about no crashed alien ships.

  The skin of the craft blended into the terrain where it touched the ground like a chameleon, taking on ochre brown tones and even mimicking the pit marks of the ground. In other spots, shiny metal and matted black metal intermingled in a dizzying pattern. Eshan stopped the rover twenty yards from a large, jagged and inky black hole in the side of the ship. What
could have caused that?

  He hesitated as he climbed out, looking around for any signs of movement. Nothing stirred. Grabbing a heavy wrench from the rover’s tool box he cautiously approached the ship, eyeing the ground for footprints. Not detecting any, he walked around the ship, not daring to get too close. He ended back where he started.

  No windows. No doors. Weird. He stood in front of the hole. The hair on the back of his neck began to tingle. He reached up to rub his neck but his hand hit his helmet instead. Damn. He edged towards the ship. The hole was like a back void.

  “Hello?” he shouted. His heart thumped. The Greys were just too weird for his tastes, but, hey, he was here as their lookout. He should have known he'd be unlucky enough to meet one someday. What kind of rescue party would I be if I screamed like a little girl and peed myself if one of them poked their huge heads out and scared the crap out of me? He chewed on the inside of his cheek, debating his next move.

  Standing before the hole, he reached out and touched the ship. But he couldn’t feel anything through his thick gloves. He raised his foot and warily stepped over the uneven breach into the ship. With one foot inside and one foot outside, he peered into the darkness, his eyes trying to adjust to the dark interior.

  Did that shadow just move?! Eshan forced himself to fully enter the ship. “I’m not a damn coward,” he whispered. He raised his other foot, careful not to rip his suit on the sharp edges, and swung it inside the ship.

  A foot in, he found himself in darkness. Blindly feeling around with his free hand, he located the light switch on his helmet. Flickering on, it cast a weak beam down a long, narrow hall to his left. He turned to his right, the light racing across the wall in front of him then diminishing down the corridor on his right.

  Taking a tentative step down the right-hand passage, he stopped and abruptly spun around, his scalp prickling. Feels like I’m being stalked by a hungry grizzly bear. Biting his lip, he backtracked and headed down the left hallway. Something just outside of the reach of his headlamp darted further down the hall. Eshan froze. He panned his light from side to side, trying to locate whatever had moved. Not finding anything, he cleared his throat.

  “Hello?" he croaked. “I’m here to help you.”

  He waited, scouring the walls with his light. No more movement. He started forward again. A door to his left slid open. Eshan threw himself against the wall to his right, the heavy wrench raised above his head, ready to bash any attacker. His breath fogged up his face plate despite his suit's automated climate control.

  No scary, face-eating monster lunged out at him. He lowered his make-shift weapon and took a couple of steps away from the now opened door. It slid shut. He took an experimental step towards the door and it opened again. “Huh.”

  He continued down the hall and found several other doors that opened as he approached. All of them were empty from what he could make out in the dim light. A few more yards down the hall, the passageway dead-ended at an over-sized door. Eshan walked up to it, expecting it to open like all the others.

  “Open, says a me,” he attempted a smile as he bumped his helmet into the closed door. He stepped back and searched the door for a way to open it. Not finding an activation switch or a touchpad, he raised his wrench and gently tapped on the door. A hollow metallic sound answered him.

  “Anyone home?” he cocked his head, straining to hear anything.

  He banged harder. “Housekeeping! I have fresh towels.” His laugh came out broken and shaky.

  A cold shiver ran down his spine. He spun around. He found himself face to face with a tall, thin being. Eshan’s eyes bulged as he realized the alien before him didn’t have the large, bulbous head and enormous eyes of a Grey. And it was as tall as he was, not like the shorter Greys he remembered from the news footage of Greys working with human scientists. Looking it up and down, his mouth fell open as he realized the tight-fitting suit it wore did nothing to hide its feminine like figure. It’s a her? He squinted, trying to make out a face behind the helmet, but it was impossible. The whole helmet appeared to be seamless, made from some opaque metallic material.

  It reached out towards him. Startled, Eshan swung the wrench at the being’s midsection with all the muscle he could muster, making contact with its soft torso. It crumbled to the ground at his feet, curled into a ball with its arms wrapped about its abdomen and moaned loud enough that Eshan could hear it through his helmet. Breathing heavily, Eshan backed away until he ran into the wall behind him. He yelped and raced forward, leaping over her and sprinted as fast as he could towards the rupture in the side of the ship. Each door that automatically opened as he passed caused him to jump sideways and run faster.

  Bolting out of the wreckage, Eshan raced back to the rover, imagining a deadly alien appendage grabbing him by the shoulder at any moment. Panting heavily, he threw himself into the driver’s seat, fumbled with the ignition, then stomped on the foot pedal. The knobby treaded tires kicked up clouds of silty dust as the wheels spun before finally gaining traction in the loose soil and lurching forward.

  When the HAB finally came into view, he pushed even harder on the accelerator. The garage door was still open, so he quickly parked the rover, plugged it in to recharge and secured the building. As fast as his cumbersome suit would allow, he ran to the hatch and keyed in his access code. His breathing steadied as the hatch closed behind him and he punched his code into the second hatch panel.

  He tripped as he exploded out of the hatchway and caught himself with the back of the sofa. He scrambled to remove his gloves, helmet and heavy space suit. Once free of the bulky gear, he flopped down on the sofa, his mind racing.

  He had to tell Command right away what he'd seen: an enemy ship, already in our solar system. Crashed, yes, but surely the beginnings of an invasion, maybe a sentry or beacon for their forces to follow. He'd tell Command and then they'd ... what? He sat forward, scrubbed his scalp with his fingertips, and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Sure, they'd get ready for battle or whatever, but what about him? If the aliens were invading, would they send a ship to rescue him? Why would they? They would have what they wanted—the intel on the invasion. Why jeopardize a ship just to rescue him? Eshan was ... expendable. He sat upright. It suddenly clicked why they were sending prisoners to the sentry posts. I’m going to be left here to die! Either at the hands of the enemy or by being marooned. The feeling of betrayal washed over him like the giant bore tide racing up Turnagain Arm.

  He opened his eyes, slowly stood up and paced back and forth from the living room to the kitchen and back. As he walked, he laced his injured fingers behind his neck, too pissed to care about the pain from his lacerated hands. He stopped abruptly, his arms dropping to his sides as an idea came over him.

  I have to get off this rock and get back home. But how?

  Chapter 7

  Standing in the kitchen, Eshan stared blankly across the room, not focusing on anything. His mind was dismissing ideas as fast as he came up with them. He needed a plan but nothing was proving to be feasible. It wasn’t like he could strap a rocket to the rover and fly back to Earth. Even if he had a rocket. And he was sure he’d die of old age before he could figure out how to piecemeal the alien ship into something up to the job. Or learning how to fly it. And then there’s the whole problem of the aliens that are in the ship thing. He likely killed the one he met—but were there more? The ship looked big enough to transport at least a dozen humans, how many of these enemy aliens could it hold? Had the others died or would they be coming after him? And if they hunted him down, what did they plan to do to him? His mouth went dry and he thought about being tortured or killed at the hands of a pissed off alien.

  He leaned over and placed his elbows on the counter and his head in his hands. He swallowed hard. He wasn’t going to give in to the feeling of helplessness that threatened to drown him. He was going to get out of this. Some way. Somehow.

  The familiar chime came from the Comm room. Now? He looked up. He
was sure it wasn’t time for his scheduled report. He hesitated for a moment and then decided he’d better answer. Try to act normal. He entered the room and sat down at the terminal. An unfamiliar face of a middle-aged woman stared up at him. He toggled the activation switch, “Wallace here.” The stranger broke into a smile that spread all the way to her hazel eyes, causing the thin wrinkles around her eyes to deepen.

  “Good evening, Mr. Wallace. I’m Tamara. General Koonis asked me to contact you about the alarm issues you’ve been having. Do you have a moment?”

  Eshan shrugged, “Sure. It’s not like I’ve got some place to be.” Her hearty laugh brought a smile to his face.

  “No, I suppose not. Can you tell me a little about what’s been going on?”

  “Yep. It seems to go off for no apparent reason. The other two systems haven’t recorded any contact. I’ve even ran the diagnostics from the book. But ... ah ... I think I took care of the problem.”

  “Oh?” She looked stunned. “How did you fix it?”

  He looked over his shoulder at the busted terminal then looked back at her with a smug grin. “I put my fist through it.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she appeared to search for something to say, finally deciding on, “Why?”

  “It woke me up at 4 a.m. and it pissed me off.”

  “I, um. I see. Well. Yeah, I guess that would sort of fix the problem. How much of the terminal is damaged so I can get an idea of what I need to replace?”

  “I would say all of it.” He leaned out of the way so she could get a view of the rest of the room.

  “Oh wow. Yep, you fixed it good. I’ll have a complete station shipped out to you as soon as I can. But can you do me a favor, Mr. Wallace?” Her smile was back.

 

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