by Doug Hoffman
“We should lock down our areas and shelter in place,” shouted one of the mob.
“Yes, these aliens are too strong—we lost hundreds of warriors and killed not a one of the interlopers.”
“Coward!”
“You go fight them, Hoon shit!”
The would be leader quieted the crowd.
“They have better weapons and wear space armor, it is no shame that we have not bested them. We have two choices: either continue to attack them and die, or go on defensive lock-down and try to survive until the Others come.”
“Can we be sure they are coming? Has the message droid been sent?”
“Calm yourselves! The signal only reached the droid a few hours ago. With any luck we will see signs of its transit shortly. In the meantime we must do what we can to survive this catastrophe.”
This brought murmurers of agreement and then acclimation of the new leader by those gathered. This pleased the new leader greatly. With any luck they would survive and, without any major new disasters, zhe might survive long enough for the pheromone rush of ascending to leader to trigger the change. Only a Karf who experienced a great victory could change from a sexless drone to a fertile male, change from zhe to he. And once that happened, his pheromones would cause the most submissive of those around him to undergo the change from zhe to she.
Yes, if all goes well, the new leader thought, I may actually get a chance to breed before I die.
Grits & Brains
“So what is this infatuation you have with the titan brunet from Georgia, mate?” The two lost Marines were making their way through a series of passageways, one much like another. Out of boredom, the gregarious Brit was quizzing Grits about his background and personal life.
“I don't know, Bubba, I just get a vibe from her when I see her. You know what I mean?”
“You mean you get a stiffy when you ogle her armored bum?”
“Naw man, don't you have any poetry in your soul? Just think about how she looks. She's an angel, a goddess.”
“And how would you know? When you're around her she's either encased in armor or loose a fitting jumpsuit. You don't even know what she looks like underneath, what makes you think she's dishy?”
“That's what you think. I once saw her exiting the showers wearing only a towel and let me tell you she is fine.”
“Fine?”
“Finer than frog's hair.”
“Frog's hair?” There was incredulity in Brains' voice.
“Finer than frog's hair split four ways, Bubba.”
“Do you just make these folksy sayings up as you go along, mate?”
“Hey, they're just part of my southern cultural heritage. You keep using weird Brit stuff.”
“I do not! Like what?”
“You said that Ben-Ezra could 'ruin a piss-up at a free bar'. What the hell does that mean?”
“Just what it sounds like, you daft wanker.”
“And there you go again with that wanker business. I haven't asked what that means 'cause I'm sure it ain't anything complimentary.”
The duo fell quiet for several minutes until the passageway opened up into a wide balcony. Unlike most such overlooks in the hub, this one had a transparent, waist high barrier in place of a railing. Within the ceiling threads of light danced and weaved.
“Well now that's different. I wonder what's down below.”
“One way to tell, let's take a gander.” Brains approached the railing and froze. Switching on his suit's external lights the space expanded dramatically. The balcony turned into a system of catwalks that formed a lattice above ranks of storage racks. A slight curvature could be seen in the balconies and the array of racks below, as if the space wrapped around the spherical heart of the Starflake itself.
“Well blow me!”
“What? Oh, I see. Damn.”
Beneath the balcony, the racks were filled with tier upon tier of large, white egg shaped objects. Each about two meters long, they were stored in double ranks, with narrow spaces between the paired rows. The bottom of the space could not be seen, disappearing into the gloom between the rows. There had to be thousands of the objects.
“Are those what I think they are, Bubba?”
“We need to get out of here, mate, and I mean right now.”
Bridge, Peggy Sue
While battles raged on the Starflake, the crew on board the Peggy Sue were reduced to observer status. The Captain and First Officer were camped out in the CIC, watching telemetry from the Marines and sailors within the giant space station, and trying to ensure that the supply lines of ammo and equipment remained full.
While the officers were so engaged the Bridge crew had nothing to do but monitor the status of the ship and watch the local system for any sign of activity. Lt. Frank Hoenig was in the captain's chair, bored out of his mind. Behind him Siku was on the alter-space scanners, trying to sniff out any sign of alien activity.
“You know, Siku, when I signed on for this voyage I figured there would be some excitement, but not that it would consist mostly of a Marine boarding action.”
“You wish you were with the Marines or the shore party, hunting down the alien prey?”
“Not so much that as I wish there was an opportunity to fly some combat sorties, like we did on the ant planet in Alpha Phoenicis. I don't want to be a ground pounder like the grunts, but a little action would be nice.”
The she-bear snorted. “Like all males, you just want to get into a fight. I think humans and polar bears are not all that different.”
“Maybe some of us. There are plenty of timid souls who just want the powers that be to take care of them, like little children. Me, I'd rather live free with some peril than be a protected slave of the government.”
“Polar bears are happiest when roaming the pack ice, hunting for food and enjoying...” The bear's voice trailed off as she raised her muzzle and flared her nostrils.
When Siku didn't finish her statement Fred pivoted around and saw that she was sensing something. The T'aafhal alter-space sensors used a direct interface that worked best with a polar bear's olfactory sense. Smell was their primary long distance sense, unlike humans whose primary sense was sight. The interface could be used by humans, but it made most sick and disoriented, and even the best human operators could only stand short periods connected. Siku was exhibiting all the signs of having a contact.
“You got something?”
“A drive's scent just emerged from the clutter around the star. The smaller companion star really jumbles up the scent.” The sensors detected the distortion of the hidden dimensions caused by steep gravitational gradients in normal 3-space. Large masses like Jovian planets and especially stars were large blurry objects in alter-space. Gravitonic drives, and to some extent shields, also registered as sharper objects—distinct smells to a polar bear. “Yes, there is definitely some prey out there.”
“How big? And is it headed our way?”
The polar bears eyes were just slits as she concentrated on the smell of the alien ship. As the target moved away from the system's massive star it grew sharper, more distinct.
“It's not headed toward us, it's accelerating like a ship headed for an insertion point. It's small, maybe a messenger or probe ship.”
“Can you match the drive profile?”
“Not yet, to much background clutter from the star.”
“I'd better tell the Captain.” Fred punched up the CIC on the command chair's comm panel. “Captain, Bridge.”
“Go Bridge.”
“Sir, we have a contact on the alter-space sensors. Small ship, possibly a recon droid, gravitonic drive, accelerating away from the central star.”
“Is it headed our way?”
Siku interrupted. “It just transitioned into alter-space!”
“Sir, the bogey just transitioned. It has left the system.”
“Did we get a drive signature?”
“Not yet, Siku is working on it. We'll know more when the 3-
space sensors can see the EM and particle profiles but that won't be for another seven hours.”
The Captain paused.
“Very good, Mr. Hoenig. Good work and keep me informed of any developments.”
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
* * * * *
In the CIC the First Officer, who had been listening to the report from the Bridge, look at the Captain with puzzlement on her face. “A small ship transiting out of the system? We didn't see anything in stellar orbit when we emerged, granted the survey was a bit cursory.”
“If it was in orbit around the central star, lying dormant, we may have missed it Number One. Given that the signal time from here to there is a tad over seven hours, plus three or four hours to break orbit and head for a transit point at high acceleration, it may have been reacting to a signal from the Starflake.”
“What do you think it means?”
“I think it means that we can expect company.”
Chapter 29
CIC, Peggy Sue
The Marines had finished clearing the area near the base of the occupied spire and were in need of further orders. The Captain and First Officer were in conference with the Sailing Master and Science Officer, who were still aboard the Starflake. Also looped in were the Ship's Doctor and Master at Arms.
“Dr. White, what do you make of the hostile species we have been engaged with? Have we seen anything like them before?”
“Not really, Captain. Dr. de Bruin examined several corpses provided by the ship's Marines. They are bipeds that superficially look like small humans, but their internal makeup is quite different. According to Dr. Krenshaw they most closely resemble Chondrichthyes—cartilaginous fish.”
“You mean like sharks?”
“Precisely, Beth. They are vertebrates but their internal skeleton is made entirely of cartilage and contains no ossified bone. Of course the most obvious other physiological difference is that they have blood oxygen transport based on hemocyanins, proteins that contain two copper atoms that reversibly bind a single oxygen molecule.”
“Which is why they bleed blue,” added JT, the Master at Arms.
Betty nodded. “Technically their blood is clear. Unlike the hemoglobin in red blood cells found in vertebrates, hemocyanins are not bound to blood cells but are instead suspended directly in the hemolymph, the fluid that circulates throughout their bodies. Oxygenation causes a color change between the colorless deoxygenated form and the blue oxygenated form. If you shoot them in an oxygen atmosphere they will bleed blue.”
“Anything else useful to know about them, Doctor?”
“While they are not particularly strong they do have sharp teeth and claws. Their vision is quite acute, other sense not so much. They seem fairly primitive and are probably capable of digesting anything protein based. They also seem to be entirely sterile drones, though there are signs of both male and female reproductive organs in their abdomens. For reasons unknown these are atrophied. Maybe there are fertile specimens in their habitat. We found no diseases that would pose a threat to humans or polar bears.”
“Humph,” Billy Ray remarked. “So just nasty little cusses.”
“I think that their presence clears up some mysteries from Earth's past,” said Bobby.
“How so, Bobby,” Beth asked. She was on best behavior since the call sign prank she played on the Sailing Master.
“Just look at them, they are the spitting image of the Gray aliens in so many UFO reports.”
JT moaned softly while the others fought to keep straight faces.
“Yeah, I know, there goes Bobby with another conspiracy theory. But think about it, these guys match a large number of sightings collected by MUFON.”
“MUFON?” asked Mizuki.
“The Mutual UFO Network. They were an organization dedicated to documenting alien activity on Earth in spite of government suppression. They classified aliens by appearance and one of the most frequently reported types were Grays. They were often linked to cattle mutilations and alien abductions. If you got probed it was probably these guys.”
“You really think these little varmints have visited Earth before, pardner?”
“Look, here we have aliens, and nasty ones at that, who match descriptions of visitors back on Earth. It would explain a lot.”
JT shook his head. “You really think these little nasties are responsible for UFOs and alien abductions back home?”
“I'm just saying, if you aren't in armor I'd be very careful bending over near one of these gray bastards.”
“Anal probes?”
“Anal probes,” Bobby replied in all seriousness.
“Bobby, you're mad, bonkers, completely off your head,” Beth quoted. “But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”
The Captain nodded in recognition of the passage. “OK, I think that we can all agree that the grays have no redeeming qualities, so what are our options for dealing with them. JT?”
“Sir, at the very least we should chase them all back into the spire that contains their main habitat. Currently there are small clusters of grays in spires inhabited by other species, garrisons if you will. We should move against these forces to get them out of our rear and to keep them from holding other non-combatants hostage.”
“We know this how?”
“Reports from snakebots and recon drones, verified with the Kieshnar-rak-kat-tra. The other species are too frightened of the Karf to talk.”
“I see. Bobby?”
“They are vermin, and vermin should be exterminated.”
“Do you share your husband's position on this Mizuki?”
“I am not well disposed toward creatures who kidnapped me and carried me away for unknown purposes. From what I have seen they are vicious and a danger to all around them. I would opt for extinction.”
“Extinction? You say this as a scientist?”
“The Universe is full of life and species go extinct all the time, Captain. One species more or less will not be missed, particularly such an unpleasant one.”
“Number One?”
“I've not had the opportunity to meet these grays myself but they do sound dreadful. Perhaps we can free the other alien species that are being held captive by the Karf and see how they feel about the matter?”
“That sounds like a measured approach. Since we would have to remove the Karf garrisons in any case I think we should proceed with that. It will also give us more time to spread out and search for the two missing Marines. Still no word on them, JT?”
“No, Sir. Davis and Walker are still MIA.”
“Is there reason to believe they are still alive?” asked Beth.
“Yes, Ma'am. We went back over the telemetry recordings of the battle for the hub. Last transmission was when Davis reported contact with the enemy. A number of explosions were seen in the tunnel they went down but when their signals disappeared they did so gradually—fading out like they went deeper into the station core. If they had been blown up the readings would have been different. In any case, when we sent people into the tunnel there was no sign of them or the Karf they engaged.”
“Could they have been taken hostage?” asked Mizuki with obvious concern.
“I doubt that, they were engaging the enemy when they faded out. A pair of Marines in heavy armor is the equivalent of two armored fighting vehicles or light tanks. Up against the grays I doubt they were captured. No, I think something else happened to our guys.”
“Let's keep alert for any sign of them while we move on the other Karf positions, hopefully they will turn up.”
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
“Science Officer, how comes reestablishing communication with the Tcist?”
“So far the movement of the Gloam—the flat worms—is random and unorganized. When we communicated with the Tcist previously the worms acted in concert, all aligning in the same direction. We think this is a sign that the creature has not yet recovered from being transported.”
“But you are hope
ful that you'll be able to talk with them at some point?”
“Hai, Captain. There are no outward signs of physical damage. We hope they make a full recovery.”
Great, we are hunting UFO aliens and waiting on moss to heal. “OK, people. Let's get back to work.”
One by one the participants dropped off the conference link. When the others were gone, Beth turned to her husband.
“You think they are still alive? The Marines I mean.”
“I hope so, Number One. Sometimes all you can do is wait and pray. If we had some idea where they've gone I'd send people after them.”
“You didn't mention the outbound bogey.”
“Until we have a better idea what kind of ship it was I don't want to distract the others from matters closer at hand. We should know something soon enough.”
“If you say so, Captain.”
“You quoting from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland was quite appropriate. I'm beginning to wonder what kind of cosmic bunny hole we've fallen into.”
Grits & Brains
“Well bugger this for a game of soldiers. We've been wandering around these hallways for ten hours and all we are doing is getting farther away from where the rest of the squad is.”
Brains was right. After quickly vacating the overlook, the pair of Marines had been lost in a veritable maze of crystal passages. Often surrounded by large pipes and conduits, it was as though they were wandering around inside a gigantic industrial plant of alien design—which, in fact, they were.
“We ain't really lost, Bubba. Inertial nav shows us right were we are. It's just that we can't get to where we want to be. On the bright side, we have risen about a hundred meters.”
“We've also gotten a kilometer farther away from the base of the spire we landed on.”
“Stop being such a wuss, it ain't like we're in danger. We got air and water and enough protein goop for a couple of weeks. As long as our CF cells last we're good to go.” The cold fusion cells powering their armor were capable of powering their environmental units for even longer than that if not subjected to the greater energy demands of combat. “Besides, I'm sure the others are looking for us. You know the Old Man, he sent them squid-boys to fetch Dr. Ogawa and Cmdr. Danner when they got taken.”