Invaders: The Antaran (Invaders Series Book 3)

by Vaughn Heppner

  Where had everyone gone? What had the momentary disorientation meant?

  I approached the machine. It was rectangular, the height of a science table in a high school laboratory, and about twenty feet long. There were dials and buttons on it. Everything looked powerless, though.

  I touched the machine, or was the entire thing a control panel? Experimentally, I pressed a button and twisted a dial. Absolutely nothing happened that I could see.

  I listened. I didn’t hear anything different. Finally, I saw flashlight beams in the distance. I’d traveled much farther than I’d realized. How had I gotten so far? It didn’t make sense. Now that I thought about it, I was surprised Beran hadn’t given me a few Tosk bodyguards.

  I touched the shock collar. I bet it had a homing device. I bet Beran knew exactly where I’d gone. He may even have left me alone, thinking I knew what this place was and would try for something…to free myself. That something would likely be interesting to him.

  I examined the long panel more closely.

  Beran believed that some Polarions still existed. He claimed they had gone to a better place, that Earth had been the launch point. That could mean a number of things.

  A little over a year ago, I’d used a rip in the Bermuda Triangle to move into a strange realm that had taken me to some sort of pocket world. There had been a great body of water, islands and a portal to a hellish place filled with parasitical Eshom.

  A year before that, I’d reached Far Butte, Nevada, where the Starcore had ruled, where Debby had lived for many years since the 50s.

  Could there be more side pockets, one of them the place where the Polarions had gone?

  I rubbed a dial as I thought about that. My idea seemed as good a bet as any. Why was the Earth a focus for these side pockets, as it were? Was reality weaker here? I mean, was Earth the Bermuda Triangle of the Milky Way Galaxy?

  That was an interesting thought. Maybe that’s what had drawn the Polarions here in the first place.

  At that point, in the distance, I saw harsh green beams crisscrossing the darkness. It seemed the Tosks were firing their carbines. I heard faint shouts, possible roars and then witnessed a great flash of intensely bright light.

  The light expanded like a plasma discharge. I thought I could see tiny Tosks caught in the light burning at a furious rate. Then, to my astonishment, I saw hovering blob-things firing red rays. The expanding light incinerated more than a few of the blob-things. The alien creatures blasted apart like jelly, goo from them flying everywhere.

  What in the world was going on over there? Was I going crazy?

  I shook my head. I didn’t believe I was mad.

  My collar tingled. It was an unpleasant and constant sensation. It made me think that Beran was trying to fry me, but that for some reason, not enough energy reached the collar for it to do its normal trick.

  I studied the black panel. Maybe I’d accidently unfrozen the blob-creatures.

  As the collar continued to tingle against my neck, I kept turning dials and pressing buttons. The board never lit up. I did not hear motors rev or anything else to indicate that I was doing anything more than acting like a kid playing in a farmyard on a tractor sitting there with the ignition off.

  I heard a distant whine, and there was a flash like a wink.

  The collar immediately stopped tingling against my neck.

  I was filled with a grim certainty that Beran had piled his remaining Tosks into the floater and transferred out of here. That would have taken the machine wirelessly powering my collar to a point far enough away that the collar no longer energized.

  I put both sets of fingers under the collar and strained with everything I had. I wrenched the collar, twisted, heaved and began to pant from the exertion. I wanted this thing off my neck.

  Finally, exhaustion forced me to stop.

  I was at my wit’s end as to what to do next. In the end, I started back for the stasis tubes with the blob-creatures. I wanted to know the worst. I wanted—

  What the heck?

  I shined the light on the floor and noticed a silvery disc. Why hadn’t I seen these before?

  I stepped on it, heard a weird sound and became momentarily disoriented like before. Then, I found myself on another disc just like it. A terrible stench filled the air here.

  I moved the light around and saw burnt Tosks and the jelly of exploded blob-things on the floor. I was certain then that the disc had acted like a mini-teleporting pad. It had instantly moved me from one place to the other.

  Why would there be something like these silvery discs down here?

  I shrugged. I had no idea.

  I couldn’t find any sign of Beran or the remaining Tosks. Had I walked onto one of these silver discs earlier and not even noticed that I’d been transferred farther afield?

  Could there be more of these discs or pads?

  I stepped off my silver pad, and had another idea. I’d teleported in a straight line in the direction I’d walked onto the disc. What if I walked onto a disc from a different direction? Would that take me to a different disc down here?

  I felt a cold sweat on the back of my neck. This was all well and good, but I was still stuck down here in Greenland, deeper than I’d ever gone before. I didn’t know if Beran would come back. I didn’t know if living blob-things were here and might attack me.

  “What have you got to lose, Logan?” I asked myself in a whisper.

  I nerved myself up, circled the small silver disc, and came at it from the left this time, what had been my left.

  As I stepped on it, I felt the disorientation, and I must have transferred—

  -22-

  Suddenly, light snapped on all around me. I looked around wildly. I was in a small chamber that was completely different from where I’d been.

  This place seemed sterile, and I could feel heat beginning to blow from a vent in the metal-lined wall. It was as though my presence had activated the lights and the air system. I walked to the vent and put my hands in front of it, warming them. Wow did it feel great.

  I kept staring around. There was just the one silver disc in the middle of the room. The light came from embedded ceiling plates. There wasn’t any dust in here; although the air was stale, it had started getting better right away. Screens began to come on and lights flashed from a panel that took up one of the walls.

  The room wasn’t square or rectangular-shaped, it was instead an octagonal-shaped chamber. For some reason, it had the feeling of a being part of a hive. The ceiling had the same octagonal shape as the floor and it had eight surrounding walls. I’d say the place was forty by forty feet in diameter.

  What had I stumbled onto?

  I went to the panel and studied the controls. I couldn’t make hide nor hair of it. I went to a bank of screens. Some showed darkness. I presumed that was underground territory without light. I saw what I took to be Greenland because it had ice, snow and peaks of solid rock jutting out here and there.

  I kept studying the various screens until finding one that was different. It was dark, with only starlight illuminating things. The place was also composed of ice and snow. I didn’t see any mountain peaks poking up. Why was this place dark while Greenland was light?

  I rubbed my jaw. Of course. Nighttime. It was dark because this was somewhere else on Earth where the sun wasn’t presently shining.

  A feeling of awe swept through me then. The chamber was ancient, and yet it was operating, at least in a fashion. How old was this room? Were the sabertooths and mammoths upstairs an indication of the chamber’s age?

  I unzipped my jacket because it was getting warm in here. If I wanted to leave, I could step on the silver disc—

  I frowned. That was a presumption. A potentially dangerous presumption. I’d have to step on the disc and see if I could leave. But what if I couldn’t get back here?

  I didn’t feel like going back into the cold underground cavern. I clicked off my flashlight and set it on the long panel.

 
; If only I had Rax. He might have been able to tell me what to do. In the Panera parking lot, Jenna must have fled with Rax. I hoped she was okay. I hoped Debby was hanging in there.

  I began to pace in front of the long panel. I put my hands behind my back. I needed to do something. I couldn’t just wait here. I had to make something happen. I had to risk testing the panel.

  In fact, I had to—

  A soft sound caused me to whirl around.

  Lord Beran stepped off the silver disc. He appeared surprised, looked around and spotted me.

  I was so surprised to see him that for a moment I stood frozen. By the time I started for him, he had raised his baton and aimed the glowing part at me.

  That seemed like a hostile action. Thus, I changed my plan in midstride, lifting my right hand in greeting and grinning like an idiot.

  “Am I glad to see you,” I said.

  “Halt,” Beran ordered.

  I stopped, letting my hand swing down to my side. I frowned as if perplexed by his action.

  While keeping the glowing part of the baton aimed at my chest, the Antaran studied the chamber.

  “Interesting,” he said.

  “That’s what I’ve been thinking.”

  He focused on me, and the fingers gripping the baton tightened upon it.

  “Am I to understand that you did not deliberately set up the ambush upon me and my creatures earlier?”

  “Ambush? What are you talking about? I found myself far from you guys, found this panel—not this one, a different one. I pressed a few switches and nothing happened.”

  Beran eyed me. “Something did happen. You awakened the Grithies, and they set upon us.”

  “What are Grithies?”

  “The blob-like creatures we saw earlier in the stasis tubes.”

  “They woke up?” I asked, probably laying it on too thickly.

  “You know they did. I can tell by the change of inflection in your voice. I am coming to understand you, Kraaling.”

  “You think I know how all this works?” I asked.

  “No…” Beran said. “I suppose you do not. I do not believe you have the intellect. You would have done something more interesting if you possessed such wisdom.”

  I almost said, “There you have it.” But that would have come off as too breezy. He was insulting me again. Yes. That was the way to convince him.

  “You know, Beran, I don’t care for your insults.”

  He raised the baton. “Cease your prattle. I weary of it. You are a devious…I won’t say creature. You are a devious individual. Yes. I have begun to take your measure. You must have accidently unleashed the Grithies. Once you realized that I had departed, you decided to make your move. I thought you would. That was why I monitored your progress.”

  That verified my thoughts on the collar.

  We stared at each other. I had the feeling he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He was hiding something. I didn’t know what, but I could tell he was fabricating part of his story.

  “Care to explain about these Grithies and how you know about them?” I asked.

  He seemed to measure me with his gaze. Finally, he grinned. “Yes, I believe I shall.”

  He cleared his throat, swung the baton behind his back and took up a lecturer’s stance. “You could liken the Grithies to your legendary elves.”

  “Elves aren’t real,” I said.

  “I did not say they were.”

  “You called them a legend.”

  “A myth, then, if you prefer. Elves were capricious but also inventive in your Earth myths. One class of elf, the dwarves, even made items for the gods. Thor’s hammer was among the most famous.”

  “How do you know about all that?” I asked.

  “I am a dominie of the Institute.” As if that explained everything.

  “Okay…” I muttered.

  “Most who study Galactic lore do not believe that the Grithies were real,” Beran said. “Most scholars put the Grithies in the same mythical category as the Polarions. In any case, in the legends, the Polarions used the Grithies as artificers.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Again, in legend, the Grithies were able to construct or manufacture complex pieces of technology. I suspect the Polarion who built the Starcore used Grithies as his hands, as it were. The Polarion would not have wielded the tools that built the Starcore himself, he would have given his instructions to the Grithies and overseen them as they built the crystal entity.”

  I was beginning to see what Beran meant.

  “So…what does it mean that these Grithies were in the stasis tubes?”

  “I give it two possible meanings,” Beran said. “One, like your ancient Egyptians did with servants and various burial items, the Grithies in the tubes were supposed to aid the Polarions in the new world, in the afterlife, as you might think of it.”

  “And two?” I asked.

  “The Polarions wanted to keep Grithies on tap for whenever they needed them again.”

  “Do you know—?”

  “Enough,” Beran said. “You are not the interrogator, I am. Given your questions and obvious ignorance, I am beginning to wonder about you. You seem to be in the right place at the right time or in the wrong place at the wrong time. It would depend on one’s perception. In any case, in ways I cannot yet fathom, you are bound up with these Polarions. You almost seem drawn to them…”

  I cocked my head, curious where his thoughts were headed.

  Beran’s eyes glittered. “Step aside,” he ordered.

  I did.

  Beran swept past me and began to study the panel I hadn’t dared touch. He looked up from time to time at the screens. He kept focusing on the one with the dark Arctic landscape. The place seemed to fascinate him.

  “I believe I have found the trail,” he whispered fervently.

  I almost launched myself at him. The Antaran had his back to me. If I could get a running start and club him hard enough, he should go down even harder.

  I was gathering myself, when he turned toward me.

  I smacked my hands together as if I was agitated. He would obviously have seen I was tense. I had to divert him from the right conclusion.

  “What is it now?” Beran asked testily.

  “This place is starting to get to me. I feel it closing in, almost shrinking as if to trap us.”

  “Indeed?” he said, glancing around. “I had not felt that. But I think you may be right.” He sniffed experimentally, and he exhaled explosively.

  “Run!” he cried.

  “What?”

  Beran charged me, shoving me toward the silver disc.

  “What’s happening?” I said, stumbling.

  “Sleep gas,” he said. “Oh, the clever devils, they’re trying to trap me.”

  I staggered onto the silver disc. It teleported me from the chamber back to the cold underground cavern. The momentum of the original push kept me stumbling so I was off the pad when Beran appeared. That might have saved my life. If he’d appeared while I was on the teleport disc…

  “Run!” Beran shouted.

  I heard the worry in his voice. Instinctively, I started running for the floater with its ramp down. At that point, Beran whizzed past me, his feet no longer touching the ground.

  I glanced back, and I saw the Grithies appearing on the silver disc. They had glowing sticks in their tentacles, and they aimed those at us.

  “Fire!” Beran shouted.

  Tosks who had been milling around the floater raised their carbines and drilled green beams at the Grithies. The blob creatures exploded, spewing their jelly substance everywhere.

  “Hurry,” Beran called from the ramp.

  I ran as hard as I could. The Tosks began to drop their carbines in order to fight and claw their way up the ramp. They must have sensed before I did that the entire cavern was shaking as if the mother of all earthquakes had been unleashed upon us.

  -23-

  The Tosks clawing to enter the floater suddenly
shrieked, falling back as they clapped their furry hands over their ears. They fell back, some falling off the ramp to thud upon the shaking cavern floor.

  Rocks had begun to rain down from the ceiling.

  I heard a sonic blast. It made my teeth ache, and I found it difficult to see through my watering eyes. However, the sound did not affect me to the same degree as it obviously did the Tosks.

  Staggering, crying out as a stone struck the back of my neck, I lurched up the ramp to supposed safety.

  Beran was at the entrance. He aimed the palms of his hands, directing them almost as if he—

  The sonic blast heighted to an ear-aching pitch as his palms swept into position aimed at me. I dropped onto the ramp, stunned and shaken. Fortunately, his palms kept moving, and the ache from the sonic blast lessened.

  Abruptly, he closed his fingers over his palms. The ache in my teeth instantly departed. My vision returned to normal.

  Rocks and boulders were striking the floater. They made booming, clanging noises. Another stone struck me, along with a shower of gravel in my hair.

  “Hurry,” Beran said. “Get inside.

  I forced my limbs to move, struggling to reach him as I panted in desperation.

  Around and below me, the Tosks that had fallen began to stir. A few bled from the ears. One howled. A boulder had crushed his legs. As one, the Tosks looked up at the entrance as if it was their only salvation. Was that how the lost souls in the Antediluvian world had looked up at Noah’s Ark as the Flood began?

  Beran moved aside as I entered, and the hatch slammed shut.

  The Tosks outside the floater howled with despair. As I collapsed onto the floor, I heard some of the werewolf creatures beating on the closed hatch.

  I looked up at Beran. He seemed unconcerned as he ordered one of the few Tosks inside the floater to take us where he wanted to go.

  The creature only hesitated a moment before tapping the flight controls.

  A huge boulder must have struck the floater. It clanged against us, shook us, and the floor vibrated under me.