The Alien Prophecy

by Vaughn Heppner

  That was weird.

  “I just want to know one thing,” Selene said, turning to Junior. “How long until we’re on our way again?”

  “You don’t understand,” Junior said.

  “How long?” she asked, remembering how Danny had spoken with the crew. The professor had never asked for their opinions on what he should do, but how long it would take them to do what he wanted done.

  A guilty look crossed Junior’s features. He seemed to be on the verge of telling her something, probably another excuse. She’d had enough of those.

  “I don’t want to hear about curses or bad luck,” Selene said.

  “Doctor Khan—” Junior said, going all formal on her. “It will take…hours.”

  Forrest quit sea gazing to stare at Junior again. He must have amped up the wattage because Junior noticed. Lines appeared in the Hawaiian’s forehead.

  Junior shrugged, muttering, “Maybe less.”

  “I want us going again in a lot less,” Selene said.

  “It’s probably an easy fix,” Forrest said, “a simple adjustment and bam, we’re on our way again.”

  “You want to give it a try?” Junior asked, without looking at Forrest.

  “If you want,” Forrest answered, “I can babysit you and make sure you don’t sit on your lard—”

  “Please,” Selene said. “Let’s keep this civil.”

  “Sure, doc,” Forrest said, with what might have been a smirk. “Fifteen minutes,” he told Junior.

  “I’m not making any promises,” Junior told Selene. “You don’t know—”

  “Junior,” Selene said. “Is something the matter? You don’t seem yourself lately.”

  Junior stared at the deck.

  “Do you know anything about diesels?” she asked Forrest, deciding to sting Junior’s pride.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Doctor,” Junior said. “You don’t know what you’re…” His voice faded away.

  “What don’t I know?” Selene asked.

  Junior shook his head.

  “I want those diesels running right now,” she said. “Or I’ll put someone in charge who can keep them running.”

  Junior looked up, staring through her. “Okay,” he said.

  To Selene’s ears, it sounded like, “Okay, you asked for it.” But she told herself it was just her imagination.

  With slumped shoulders, Junior headed for the engine room.

  Selene headed back for her cabin, wanting to go back to studying her charts. Hopefully, this would be the end of her problems. She never recalled Danny having this many incidents when he’d been in charge of the expedition.

  ***

  A short time later on a large vessel several miles away from the Calypso, a man wearing coveralls sat before a screen. He piloted a small drone high in the clouds, watching the university ship. Incredibly, the vessel was on the move again. The captain would not be pleased with the news.

  The screen operator clicked an intercom button.

  “Yes?” a deep-voiced man asked.

  “The Calypso is moving, sir.”

  “So soon? What is its speed?”

  The operator studied the screen, saying, “Ten knots and climbing, sir.”

  “And its heading?” the deep-voiced man asked.

  “Two degrees south of the site, sir,” the operator said.

  “The fool lacked conviction, did he? We’ll have to take direct action then. Call the Blue Angler. Tell them it is a Code 7 situation. They are to proceed at once on an intercept course.”

  “Did you say Code 7, sir?”

  “Exactly. Mother doesn’t want any interference for the coming test.”

  -4-

  ARDENNES FOREST

  FRANCE

  “Well?” Jack asked.

  “It’s a perimeter fence,” Simon whispered, as he studied a small device with an extended antenna gripped in his hands.

  Jack crouched with the suppressed rifle cradled in his arms, located a trifle higher than Simon. He didn’t look at Simon or at the odd post with a satellite dish on top. He kept scanning the forest.

  “The post emits a high frequency,” Phelps said into their earbuds. “I think it will emit something else if you cross an invisible line.”

  “Why do you say that?” Simon asked through his throat microphone.

  “I believe I’m beginning to understand the emitter’s function,” Phelps answered. “If you cross the invisible boundary, a sonic pulse will either kill or incapacitate you two.”

  “Clever,” Simon said. “Do you think if I broadcast a feedback loop we can safely cross the boundary?”

  “I’m checking on the probabilities of success,” Phelps said. “Okay. Here it is. You have a seventy-eight percent chance of surviving.”

  “What do you say, Jack?” Simon asked. “Do we go through?”

  Elliot heard the words but did not really process them. He was too intent on studying the darkness.

  “Jack?”

  Elliot blinked, glancing at Simon hunched near the satellite-dish post. He replayed the words in his memory. Seventy-eight percent…life or death…go or stay. He felt something out there. He trusted his gut, but the code said he had a mission to perform. He couldn’t back down because of unnamed and possibly unwarranted sensations.

  “We go,” Jack said, “but not before we set up an explosive against the post that will take one of us to defuse in twenty seconds, say. If the emitter goes off and incapacitates us, the explosive will destroy it, saving our lives.”

  “Destroying the emitter would mean scrubbing the mission,” Phelps said. “D’erlon Enterprises will have an alarm rigged to any of the posts’ destruction.”

  “I prefer a scrubbed mission to dying,” Jack said.

  “Sounds reasonable,” Phelps said, after a moment.

  “Roger that,” Simon said, studying Jack in the darkness.

  Ignoring the scrutiny, Jack said, “I’ll get started rigging the explosive.”

  -5-

  ARDENNES FOREST

  FRANCE

  For a fraction of a second, the softly buzzing collar around the beast’s neck stopped.

  The beast’s head snapped up. It had been reasoning out its hatred, finding premises for peaceful coexistence with other higher forms. As long as it could find sustenance, it could endure the presence of supposedly vile creatures. In other words, it could conceivably retrain itself, altering the automatic hatred.

  The beast found the idea intoxicating.

  The abrupt cessation of the buzzing caused anger to jolt its thinking. When the collar-vibration returned, the anger blossomed into rage.

  The masters had let someone or something into its territory. The beast found that odd. The last test had occurred only a short time ago.

  No! This made logical sense. The masters no doubt understood its intellect. They wished to keep it alert. Thus, they sprang a new test unexpectedly.

  The beast set off in a hurried lope, heading for the inner perimeter where each of the test subjects had entered before.

  How dare the masters do this as it tried to reason its way to peaceful coexistence. Given enough time, it might have restrained the savage impulses.

  After traveling only a short distance, the beast froze. Slowly, it turned its unusual head in the direction of the outer perimeter. Noise—humans blundered through its forest.

  A low growl emanated from its throat. It wanted to rend these two-legs into bloody chunks. It would feed on their flesh. It would rip out—

  The growl deepened, but it didn’t indicate greater rage. Rather, the beast laughed at its own stupidity, its own instinctive behavior.

  The beast prided itself on its intellect. Yet, here it wanted to race off to murder because of an instinctive response. That did not seem mature. That was part of its brutish nature. Yet, it was better than the dull dogs.

  The beast forced itself to lower its snout. Then, it closed its eyes and breathed deeply. It
would control the rage. It would watch the intruders and learn whatever it could.

  The masters ruled because they outthought and out-tricked everyone else. If it desired mastery, the beast realized it must learn to do the same thing.

  -6-

  INNER ZONE

  ARDENNES FOREST

  Jack wiped the back of his left gloved hand against his eyebrows. Perspiration dotted his face. He wasn’t sweating from exertion. He could run all day. As crazy as it sounded, the forest felt even more haunted than before.

  Simon and he had come several miles since the satellite-dish emitter. Each step had stirred Jack’s nape hairs more. He could feel eyes watching him. He could swear he felt something’s vicious desire to rip him and his partner to shreds.

  “You okay?”

  Simon had asked that seven times during their trek. Jack had simply nodded for an answer. This time Jack told his partner to leave it alone already.

  Instead of relieving Simon, the man glanced at him worriedly again. Jack was getting sick of it.

  Don’t sweat it, Elliot. It’s good if we’re tense. It kept one extra-alert. He had a feeling they were going to need that. Later over beers, they could laugh about the “haunted” op, but now was not the time for that kind of thinking.

  Jack picked his way across dead leaves, his boots crunching over a few and pushing aside others. Every few steps, he had to force his fingers to relax. He reached a knoll, crouching, peering at the lit buildings down there.

  A moment later, Simon crouched beside him.

  D’erlon Enterprises was located in a small valley of the Ardennes Forest. Jack counted seven large buildings bigger than airplane hangars. The entire complex was fifty acres with administrative buildings and tract housing along two sides. A road wound down a hill, coming to a brightly lit guardhouse.

  There was one way in by road and one out. A regular fence with razor-wire coils on top surrounded the giant complex, but Jack didn’t envision any problems with that. They’d accounted for the fence before the op and had brought the needed equipment to secretly breach it. Using his night vision goggles, Jack spotted several hidden SAM pits and a few automated machine gun posts. That was something he would have expected to find in a Latin American country, not a French industrial site. It proved D’erlon Enterprises had military connections.

  Jack changed the settings of his night vision equipment. A bewildering array of formerly invisible laser lines showed what would trigger the heavy machine guns. It was interesting to him that every one of the inner sensors was well behind the emitter posts.

  After several seconds of silence, Simon asked, “Ready?”

  For an answer, Jack rose. He froze then, whirling around, bringing up his rifle. A bush up there rustled the wrong way. His finger tightened against the trigger—and stopped.

  He wasn’t sure why he didn’t pull the trigger. The bad thing was out there, he knew. It had been watching for some time.

  It could have rushed us just now. What is it waiting for?

  “Jack,” Simon whispered, in a way that indicated he’d called his name several times already.

  “We should abort,” Jack said, the conviction hardening in his heart.

  “What?” Simon asked. “Now? Do you have a concrete reason?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said.

  Simon waited, finally asking, “Well? And if you’re going to say you don’t like the feel—”

  “I don’t.”

  “I never do,” Simon said. “I vomit before every insertion. This one hasn’t been any different.”

  Jack nodded noncommittally. He didn’t vomit. Missions made life easier. Usually, he knew how to deal with these kinds of problems. The only other time he’d felt like this…

  “You know,” Simon whispered.

  Jack only half heard. He was too busy tracking the leaves, the blackest areas of the forest. The overriding presence had just dwindled. Maybe they should hurry to the buildings.

  Am I scared?

  Under his woolen mask, Jack frowned. Yes. It felt as if something had crawled under his skin. He didn’t like the sensation. It wasn’t like him to let fear get the best of him like this.

  “All right,” Jack said gruffly, turning back toward the valley complex. “Let’s go.”

  He set a stiff pace, listening to Simon pant behind him. He barely heard his partner’s warning in time. At the last moment, Jack stopped, his foot an inch from crossing the invisible line. He’d forgotten about it.

  “A post-mounted emitter,” Simon whispered.

  Jack turned around, peering into the forest the way they had come. Behind him, Simon must have taken out his special device. He could hear his partner extend the antenna.

  “Hmm,” Simon said.

  Jack glanced over his shoulder at his partner.

  “This is an emitter all right. It’s pointed in our direction.”

  “So?” Jack asked.

  Simon shrugged. “It’s like…I don’t know.”

  “I do,” Jack said, as it all came together for him. “We’re in a wild zone. I remember going to the San Diego Wild Animal Park as a kid. On a whispered dare from my sister, I got out of the car. I don’t know. I must have been thirteen at the time. When my dad saw me, you should have heard him shout. I dashed back to the car. As I slammed the door shut, a big old lion with a graying mane stood up from behind the bush I’d been approaching. I’d planned to take a whiz there, impress my little sister with my toughness. In the car, I began shaking realizing the old lion had been watching me. I remember the feeling of walking in the wild area. It made my spine tingle. That’s the same feeling I’ve been getting tonight.”

  “You’re saying lions are on the prowl in the Ardennes?”

  “Something is,” Jack said.

  Simon stared at him, finally asking, “Are you serious?”

  “Let’s get going. We don’t have all night.”

  Simon gave him a longer study.

  Jack had a good idea what his partner was thinking. That Jack had finally lost his nerve. He didn’t believe that. He could feel something vicious in here with them, and he didn’t like it in the slightest.

  “Come on,” Jack said, with an edge to his voice.

  If Simon had been ready to chide him, it died on his partner’s lips. “Phelps?” he whispered into his throat microphone.

  Jack shook his head. They had lost verbal contact with the van some time ago. Clearly, there was interference.

  “All right,” Simon said. “Here goes.” He manipulated his device, got up and dashed across the invisible line.

  Jack was on his tail. They hadn’t bothered with the explosive this time. Elliot heard a click from Simon’s device. He tightened his stomach muscles, expecting the worst.

  What he got a second later was a vast sense of relief. The grim feeling evaporated. They were out of the wild zone, although they would have to go back through it on their way out.

  Jack shrugged. That didn’t matter now. It was time to go into the valley, break into the D’erlon site and see if the snitch’s story about weird magnetic experimentation was true or not.

  -7-

  THE CALYPSO

  91 MILES OFF THE COAST OF SUMATRA

  A hard rap against the outer hatch of her cabin caused Selene to jerk around. She hated when that happened, having been absorbed with the data, lost inside her head.

  “Who is it?” she asked, sharply.

  “Forrest.”

  “Come in. The hatch is open.”

  The handle twisted and a shirtless Forrest Dean poked his head inside. “Just thought you should know,” he said. “There’s a ship heading toward us.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a speck right now, but it’s coming fast.”

  “Are you sure it’s heading for us?” Selene asked.

  “Pretty much,” Forrest said.

  “Why should that bother me?”

  “It bothers me,” Forrest said.

  She recogn
ized what Forrest was trying to do and resented it. Danny would never have let any of the crew or dive-team bully him. She shouldn’t let any of them do it either.

  “I’ll ask you again,” Selene said. “Why should it bother me?”

  Forrest hesitated answering. He seemed to be looking inside his skull for what he should say. Finally, he grinned, shrugging. “There have been too many accidents this voyage, you know what I mean?”

  “I don’t think I do.”

  “I’ll try a word on you, see what you think. Sabotage,” Forrest said, staring into her eyes.

  “Why would anyone sabotage the Calypso? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “I suppose not. Still, the word is out there now. The probability of so many accidents happening in a row in so few days…” Forrest shrugged once more.

  Selene stared back at him. “No. I’m not buying that. You’re hinting at something, but you don’t want to come right out a say it. That’s fine. I can wait. Is there anything else?”

  Forrest hesitated for a fraction of a second longer, shook his head and shut the hatch.

  Selene turned back to the papers on the chart table. The Calypso headed toward the epicenter of the Indian Ocean Earthquake that had occurred December 26, 2004 off the western coast of Sumatra, Indonesia. The event had been a 9.0 magnitude quake, releasing the energy of 23,000 Hiroshima-type atomic bombs. The violent movement of the Earth’s tectonic plates had displaced an enormous amount of water, sending powerful shock waves in every direction. The tsunami had killed nearly 230,000 people in 14 different countries that touched the Indian Ocean. The rupture had been more than 600 miles long, displacing the seafloor by 10 yards horizontally and several yards vertically. It had caused the entire planet to vibrate 0.4 inches.

  Selene had a theory about the earthquake that involved the hum, which she believed involved magnetic waves as well as ELF radio waves.

  She’d found an odd reading in a seismic chart taken a month ago by a U.S. monitoring station. Selene had convinced the University Geology chair to fund an expedition so she could check it out. The woman might not have agreed with the theory, but she’d wanted to get back at Dr. Danny Ferguson. That had been Selene’s reading of the chairwoman, anyway. Using what Danny had taught her, Selene had manipulated the crack of resentment into a wide open door into getting the expedition funded.