Scotty laughed. “I’ll do it … feed the thing first. It’ll only take me a few minutes.” With a running start, he jumped up onto the pallet and moved around the creature’s mountain of restrained flesh to the other side, then opened one of the long metal bins. Inside were the few remaining feeding rations for the Liapalese, contained within edible, celluloid, sacks. With the sudden presence of direct daylight upon them, the five sacks began to stir. Gammy-tow larva. The maggot-like critters were a welcomed delicacy for the Liapalese.
“Hey … I’m going to feed it two of these sacks, then place the other three sacks off in the distance—you know, lead it away so we can … ”
Scotty was interrupted mid-sentence, as Tori’s lips pressed against his own. His heart racing, he mentally comprehended what was now happening. He already knew that a Vallic kiss was something special and a constant subject of interest and discussion among the other boys back at base camp. Ernesto was a virtual kissing bandit, if he could be believed; a fan of kissing the Honduran sixteen-year-old girl, who lived three caves over.
Scotty returned Tori’s gentle kiss, breathing in her faint floral scent. He felt the tip of her tongue explore, find, then tease his own. She’d obviously done this before—little doubt about that—but he didn’t care. She pulled him in even closer and he felt her chest against his. A moan rose from deep within her, but as quickly as the embrace started, it ended.
Tori pushed him away with surprising force. Looking out of breath, giving him a lopsided smile, she said, “Now you can go and feed the damn beast.” Showing off, the way she often did, she walked right through the Liapalese, then he heard her jump down to the ground, some thirty feet away.
Scotty smiled and shook his head. It was one thing for an original Vallic to do such a thing—walk right through doors, or walls, or even each other—but it was no easy task for a Human-Vallic. Make a mistake and you’re dead—molecularly merged within a foreign mass. I could have done it, he thought, studying the rising bulk of the gray animal—probably.
Leaning into the bin to grab the top sack, he heard Tori scream, “Scotty!”
Chapter 42
Without giving it a second thought, Scotty’s energetic form raced through the Liapalese; exiting out of it on the other side, he jumped down to the ground. Fists clenched, ready for whatever dangers awaited him, he spun around looking for Tori.
He heard another scream, this time farther away to the north, and yelled out, “Tori!”
Far in the distance he saw a plume of dust and took off at a full run, briefly thinking of the hand-held communications device still back within the MPP’s cab. But who would he call, anyway? No one else was close enough to help.
Scotty ran faster, trying not to think about what was happening to Tori. Who or what had taken her, and why he no longer was hearing her calling out for help. As a Human-Vallic now, he was able to move much faster than he could before the Dyad-Geneses procedure. Not so long ago, Ernesto and he had timed each other’s quick sprints. Both had reached running speeds the equivalent of sixty-five-miles per hour. Right now, he knew he was running even faster than that. He was running to save Tori’s very life.
Chest burning, he was beginning to tire—he’d run at least three miles. The windswept plume of dust ahead was now near enough for him to see what was causing it—a fast-moving band of hairy Kammies; at least five of them. Damn! Scotty thought he saw Tori’s faint blue glow—her body draped over the shoulder of a lagging-behind beast. Why, he wondered, hadn’t she simply escaped—moved through him like she did the Liapalese? Nearing exhaustion, Scotty powered on forward. Apparently, the Kammies were tiring as well since he was closing in on them. Then his breath caught in his chest, realizing why Tori hadn’t escaped. Why she was still confined, held in the clutches of the trailing Kammie. She appeared to be unconscious and in a partially physical Human form. How was that even possible?
Over the years he’d seen the awful carnage even one Kammie could produce. He remembered back—back to when they’d first arrived on the planet. There’d been several late-night raids into their dorm caves. Kammies were suspected of climbing the sheer cliff walls and entering the caves late at night, then absconding with young Humans—boys and girls. Later, what was found of their remains, sometimes many miles away, was beyond grisly. Little more than shredded flesh and pulverized bone. But once the dorm caves became inhabited by Human-Vallics, the Kammie raids stopped. They had no interest in the energetic Vallic forms. So what happened to Tori then? Why was she stuck like that—half Vallic, half Human?
As the Kammies slowed to a stop ahead, Scotty, re-energized, sprinted right into their fray. He’d never actually accomplished what he was planning to do now. But it was something he’d seen Horran do on more than one occasion—bring down big alien game without a weapon. Should his own timing be off now, by even a millisecond, it would be all over for him. He’d be dead; unable to save Tori.
Scotty zeroed in on the largest of the five Kammies. Not slowing down, he plowed right into its thick dense body; instantly, he felt himself passing inside its physical form. He already knew there was much he still didn’t know about his Vallic capabilities. But what happened next was unexpected, beyond comprehension. Relative time was altered—somehow—and he was watching himself. Watching everything move in slow motion around him. This is truly amazing, he thought, briefly wondering if he could actually stop time completely. He forced himself to snap back to the present. It was only then—timed to the precise moment when he was about to emerge from the doomed Kammie’s opposite side—that Scotty transformed one lone part of his anatomy—a fist that was now fully Human. With all the pent-up fear and fury, building within him since he’d first heard Tori’s screams for help, he now punched out with his clenched fist, unleashing a singular, volcanic eruption of shattered bone and brain matter that spewed forth from the Kammie’s destroyed cranium. Scotty’s driven momentum carried him all the way through the now dead beast’s body unscathed. His timing—perfect.
The four remaining Kammie beasts stood paralyzed at what they’d just witnessed. Eyes darted back and forth, from the dead, nearly decapitated, Kammie body on the ground, to Scotty.
“Put her down, you hairy motherfucker,” Scotty spat, pointing a finger at the beast carrying Tori’s body over its shoulder. Debating with himself about just killing them all anyway, he had to fight against the strong impulse. Standing alone in the middle of the pack, Scotty heard their low growls. Grotesque lips stretched, then curled back, revealing yellowed teeth—fangs dripping with syrupy strands of mucous. When sinewy muscles suddenly tautened along their animal limbs, readying to attack, Scotty didn’t hesitate. The closest Kammie, a female, followed the same fate that befell her larger companion, when Scotty passed in and through her. Her head exploded, as if hit by a cannon ball. A swath of blood red gore rained down upon the remaining three creatures.
Scotty watched as Tori’s inert body was gently placed onto the ground. The three beasts quickly scurried away, going off in opposite directions. He took a tentative step forward, then another, then knelt down beside her. He hadn’t seen her face in its Human form for over a year. Tori had become even more beautiful. Gently, moving several strands of hair away from her eyes and face, he let his fingers linger there—touching her cold, lifeless, cheek.
PART III
RETURN TO EARTH
Chapter 43
Present Day: Nantucket Island, Stillworth’s Skiff
Scotty revived as he was being manhandled over to an exterior stairway. His head hurt—throbbing—where Officer Platt had smacked him again with his damn flashlight. Still incoherent, he only now could feel his legs—thump thump thump—painfully dragging along behind him. I don’t have time for this. Earth doesn’t have time for this …
Scotty, transforming from Human physicality into his Vallic form, felt himself falling free—right into and through Officer Platt. As he emerged out of Platt’s front bulk, he continued on, rolling head-over-heels
down four more stair rungs to the sidewalk below—little more than a spinning blur of blue energy. Rising to his feet, he immediately transformed himself back into his Human state then spun back around, waiting. It took a moment for Platt’s mind to catch up with what had just happened. Wide-eyed, the policeman fumbled for the gun at his hip.
“Don’t do it, Platt!”
The command came from the landing above. FBI Special Agent Alison McGuire, her own weapon drawn, was pointing it at Officer Platt’s substantial center mass. At the railing, Scotty’s mother tentatively stepped into view beside her. Her eyes, focused intently on Scotty, conveyed a lifetime of worry, unanswered questions, and something else … a mother’s love.
Larry’s loud barks broke the momentary standoff. The golden retriever turned the corner above them, lumbered down the top few steps, then got held up behind Platt’s substantial backside. What happened next was completely unexpected. In one fluid motion, Larry too transformed into an energetic state. In the midst of jumping right into and through Officer Platt, Scotty quickly stepped to one side. After the big dog awkwardly landed onto the concrete beside him, he felt the full impact of the animal’s weight lean into his legs. Larry was back in his physical canine form. Staring at him, Scotty realized his dog had his own unique story and wondered if he’d ever know it.
Scotty stared up to see three gaping mouths. He settled his attention onto Platt. “You’re either going to help me, help us, or you’re going to die. There is far too much at stake here. Decide right now. And if you ever touch that flashlight again, I’ll take your head off. I’ve done that kind of thing before. Trust me.”
He avoided looking at Alison and his mother. This was a side of him they would not have expected.
* * *
All four were back now in the mother’s cramped apartment. Scotty sat cross-legged on the floor, with Larry’s head lying on his lap, while Alison sat next to his mother on the couch. Officer Platt had to shoehorn his large hulk into the lone adjacent chair. For close to an hour, for the most part, Scotty was the only one speaking. He started from the beginning—what he remembered of that fateful day when he was a nine-year-old boy, playing on the beach with Larry. He spoke of the rover craft—of his abduction into a massive, living, spaceship—then spoke of alien beings that were little more than wisps of blue energy. He described the arduous medical procedures he and others endured to become a Vallic-Human. He told them of the alien called Seve, and then of the intolerant one, called Horran. He chronicled the years spent on a distant world, called Hope, and of the other abducted children he’d met there: his friends Ernesto, Tiffany, and Tori. He spoke of the reason for their abduction. The ramifications of an arrogant alien race—the Vallic—whose experiments had gone terribly wrong, resulting in a tremendous gamma ray burst, currently shooting out through space straight toward countless planetary systems—inhabited worlds unaware of what was soon to come.
Scotty took a moment before continuing, “Um, may I have a glass of water?” suddenly thirsty.
“Of course … anyone else?” his mother asked.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Sullivan.”
“Just call me Brianna.”
Alison nodded. “Fine … Brianna, then.”
Brianna, sidestepping between the couch and the coffee table, headed off to the kitchen. Scotty felt Platt’s eyes boring into him. Then his wooden chair creaked as he wiggled about, trying to make himself comfortable. Up to this point, the policeman had made no effort to hide his growing skepticism, expelling overly dramatic, yet barely audible, huffs and uh huhs …
“Are you going to tell us the rest of it?” Alison asked. “Like what now … what you’re doing here?”
Brianna, after handing both Scotty and Alison a glass of water, retook her seat on the couch. Breathing in a deep breath then slowly exhaling, a bemused smile crossed her lips.
Scotty saw that his mother, for the moment, was just happy to have her son back.
“I’m here to assist those who want to survive—assist them in making the transition that will enable them to live out the balance of their lives on another world.”
Platt shifted his weight again. The chair under him swayed and creaked louder. Red-faced, the man’s agitation was growing by the second.
Alison said, getting to her feet “Okay … that’s it! You and I are going to swap. Up with you, Platt. You can take my seat on the couch. Come on, UP! She came around to the chair and waited for Platt to extricate himself. Once Platt was settled in on the couch next to Scotty’s mother, Platt continued, “This is all a load of horse shit. Aliens? Come on … you must really think I just fell off the dumb-fuck truck.”
Alison, brows knitted, said, “So … you didn’t see what I saw? What we saw?” Her tone incredulous, she continued. “The guy can turn into a ghost. He literally dove right through you back there on the steps.”
“Clever magic—some Siegfried and Roy kind of shit. Hell, they could do a lot more than what he did and they did it with man-eating Bengal tigers.” He shifted his eyes onto Scotty. “No, I don’t buy any of this crazy BS, mister! And the sooner Ms. FBI here understands that, the sooner I can do my job and take you in.”
Scotty had no problem with Platt’s skepticism. There would be many others following. Perhaps most Humans on planet Earth would find his story pure fantasy. “What would it take for you to believe what I’ve told you is true?” Scotty asked, turning first to Platt, and then Alison and his mother. Although less than Platt’s, he saw their skepticism as well. “It’s fine … neither of you are one hundred percent convinced either. I get that.” He smiled at his mother’s uncomfortable expression. “Look … we’ve taken all this into account. Of course, no one will easily believe the kind of things I’m saying … what at first will be perceived as the rantings of a crazy person. That and perhaps a somewhat entertaining sideshow carnival act.”
Scotty glanced at the digital clock readout on the DVD player, positioned on a shelf just below the TV set. It was closing in on 3:00 p.m. By this time, his Vallic-Human counterparts aboard the spacecraft should have made themselves known to the crew of the International Space Station. He remembered back to his own childhood abduction and shook his head. Now would come the hard part.
“Mom … would it be okay to turn on your TV? To a full-time news channel?”
Chapter 44
“Sir … we, the ISS, have been taken aboard another ship. One you do not have the technology yet to detect. We are well above Earth’s orbit. The vehicle is pretty much in one piece; stored within the confines of this … um … alien ship.”
“Did he just say alien ship?” Borkner asked, staring up at Mannford.
Ignoring the acting NASA Administrator, Flight Director Paul Mannford unconsciously took a step forward and then another, as if getting a closer view would somehow make better sense of what he was seeing. He stared at each of the three familiar faces, now on display on the six large MCC screens at the front of the room. Commander Jack Landon, astronaut Greg Fischer, and cosmonaut Peter Mirkin appeared to be in relatively good health, although they clearly were nervous. But it was what was directly behind the three men that completely captivated Mannford’s attention: technology clearly distinct from anything within on the ISS vehicle. He also caught a sudden movement behind the three men that he almost missed. Beings—clearly not Human—bluish in color; so faint physically they were a mere whisper of form. Mannford couldn’t really tell just what they were.
The control center, typically filled with a combination of sounds—talking, fingers tapping at keyboards, the shuffling of papers—all the general sounds of people hard at work, was instead very quiet. All eyes were glued on the front displays.
CapCom’s Margaret Haskell, now at Mannford’s side said, “Sir … seems this definitely is not ISS-based communications. Synchronization and checksum protocols are all wrong. I’ve never seen anything like it. Can’t explain how we’re even communicating with them.”
Mannford
nodded, without looking at her. Clearing his throat, he said, “Commander Landon—Paul—how about providing us a rundown on your current situation. Over.”
Landon exchanged a quick glance with Fischer and Mirkin before speaking. “We’re okay, for now. But let me be clear, the ISS vehicle is no longer operational or inhabitable. We presently are guests onboard an alien vessel. But I want to stress we have not been harmed in any way. Over.”
“Just tell us—what do they want from us, Landon?” Borkner interjected.
“To help us, sir. They’re here to … well, save us. Over.”
Borkner brusquely spun on his heels and scurried off. Mannford caught sight of the NASA Administrator on his way out, putting a cellphone up to his ear.
Commander Landon, speaking again, said, “Sir, the beings here … the aliens—God, that sounds so strange to say aloud—have a briefing, an information package, that they would like to transmit down to MCC. Would that be acceptable? Over.”
Mannford shook his head. “First, we’ll need to make available a dedicated separate coms’ channel, as well as a secure firewalled network. It could be a few minutes. Over.”
Mannford next heard Marty Kline’s voice, his IT supervisor, in his ear, “I’ll have that for you in about five minutes, sir. Can you ask him how big a file this will be? Wait, never mind … the file just appeared. Strange that they knew where to transmit it to. Boy, it’s big. Very big,” Kline said.
Commander Landon said, “Sir, there’s an element of time here; an urgent lack thereof. What you are about to see, which is something we’ve already viewed several times now, will be a hard pill to swallow. I’ve been assured it’s something we’ll be able to verify, once our scientists are provided with all the specific, deep space telemetry numbers. They’ll be able to see it coming.”
Boy Gone Page 19