by Lea Tassie
Flushed with new anger, Ann was ready to blast her partner when the pathologist announced the findings over the intercom. "After careful attention to details, I can only conclude that this is not a living organism, or at least, not a living organism as we understand the definition."
"See, told you, it's a robot!" Jack said smugly.
"You're such an ass!" Ann blurted.
"Maybe, but I bet it's a robot," Jack responded. Pressing the intercom button, Jack asked the pathologist, "Doc, is it a robot?"
"Well, I suppose that's possible, but if so, it's a highly sophisticated biomechanical robot. Some internals are certainly synthetic but very advanced."
Jack winked at Ann and smiled.
Ann had no idea how Jack kept coming up with the correct answers. This fascinated and frustrated her, since she was both highly intelligent and jealous. "Okay, I give up. How did you know it was a robot?"
"Well it's obvious, it's dead!" Before Ann had the opportunity to vent again, Jack continued, "The plant mat sends a bolt of current through its victims, a bolt which stuns, based on weight and skin type. This is done because the plant likes to consume living meat, but this time it had no idea what stepped into the trap. So, the plant mat sent out a bolt of electricity at maximum power which short-circuited the alien, effectively turning it off."
"Turning it off?" repeated Ann.
"Yep, and I bet we could turn it back on," Jack stated with confidence.
Ann just stood there looking at her partner, as he stared through the viewing glass into the medical room that held the remains of the alien. Too bad he was such an irritating human being, since she had to admit that he could well be right.
Chapter 5 Charger R/T on Crest
Captain Jack Lantern lay on his side in a pool of his own blood, his left arm broken in two places and one leg badly mangled. He stared with his one remaining good eye at the alien as it calmly walked toward him. He had fired at least fifteen rounds of ammunition point blank at this alien and done no damage. Now badly beaten and broken, he fumbled with his remaining few shells as he tried to reload for another attack.
Jack looked over at Ann's dead body, only a few yards from where he now fought for his life. A flush of anger and hatred filled his mind and he let loose a primal yell as he tried desperately to reload. But he was unable to control his broken arm and one of the shells slipped from his fingers and rolled to the feet of the approaching alien.
The alien interrupted its sedate progress, picked up the shotgun shell Jack had dropped and calmly handed it back to him, confident that the weapon would have no impact on its repulse field. Jack's spirit sagged at the audacity of the alien. The aliens were so superior in technology that nothing the humans did could defeat them.
Then Jack remembered that he was lying with his body against the town's power plant and, in the confusion, had pulled a high voltage power line within his reach. With a great effort, Jack grabbed the power line and touched it to the shotgun shell in the alien’s outstretched hand. The resulting shock ignited the round, exploding and blowing off the alien's arm. It reeled back in pain as precious bodily fluids rushed from its body. Within seconds, it lay dead at Jack's mangled feet.
When Jack regained consciousness, the sounds of gunfire and fighting had stopped. The battle had been lost and now the aliens were rounding up prisoners and loading them onto space ships, along with the dead bodies of Crest's humans. He could hear cries for help and pleas for mercy. Jack felt the helplessness of his situation press down on his will to fight and, for a moment, almost gave up.
Then he caught sight of the Battle Mech across from him. The Battle Mech was a one-off construct that the military had been working on, a fully contained fighting suit, armored, mechanized, and life sustaining. It took Jack almost a half hour to drag his broken body to the front hatch of the suit and another half hour before he achieved total integration with the weapons and with the controls which provided painless support for his broken limbs.
Like a one-man tank, the Battle Mech whined and clicked to life, giving Jack one last chance to fight back. Splayed out on five legs and with a variety of guns and rocket launchers at the ready, the Battle Mech walked to the landing strip where the aliens were preparing to launch. Jack rushed on board the nearest ship, hoping to continue the fight. Undetected, he made his way silently to the cargo area, where he freed prisoners from spherical cages that hung like drops of water from the ceiling. These twelve people wanted to continue the fight as much as he did and, with Jack in the Battle Mech, felt confident that they could overwhelm the aliens and take control of the spacecraft.
"Wait, we can't just start shooting up the place," Jack said, as he tried to control the small group. "If we're in orbit, a stray bullet could pierce the hull and that would kill us all."
When the aliens had begun their attack on planet Crest, the human civilian and military leaders were not at all prepared for what they faced. It started with a few days of strange sounds resonating from the sky, apparently from no specific direction. Then things went quiet for a few days until the thunderous booms began, a booming so loud that human eardrums bled, and many people were knocked unconscious. Then came quiet again and, finally, a full out invasion. The leaders of the colony were so rattled that no real resistance was mounted to defend the small city. The alien forces swiftly took advantage of the disorder and resistance was destroyed almost at once. It took less than a week for the humans to realize the fight was hopeless.
The scientists who had been examining the captured alien had indeed reactivated it, as Jack had guessed might happen. What none of them realized was that this reanimation led to the alien broadcasting its location and situation to nearby alien battle ships on a scouting mission to Earth.
The human colony on planet Crest had been wiped out. The aliens had slaughtered those who resisted and imprisoned those who did not. Jack and the other twelve survivors onboard the spaceship faced an impossible task. To gain their freedom, they would not only have to kill their oppressors but also try to figure out their technology.
"Even if we do find a way to kill them, we still need to understand how to fly this craft," Jack growled to several overzealous freed prisoners. With the craft now in space, even a single mistake could result in everyone dying. The Battle Mech suit was equipped with a small stealthy drone capable of limited flight so, like a winged spider, the micro-drone took to the air and began silently navigating around the craft.
Images from the drone were relayed back to Jack in the Battle Mech suit and he, in turn, displayed the images to the other members of his small group. The micro-drone flew down hallways and through open doors until it reached the command center of the ship, where it found three aliens plugged into the craft's console like computers plugged into a network hub.
"Well, this is odd." Jack was puzzled. The aliens appeared to be dormant.
"So if we kill them, will we be stuck in space?" asked a young girl, who looked about fifteen years old. She was pale and sweating with fear. Another member of the group tried to console her.
"I'm not stupid!" said the young girl sharply. "I get it. These aliens are plugged into the ship and, if we kill them, we'll lose the ability to fly."
"Settle down," Jack said calmly, "I have an idea."
"Do you really have an idea?" whispered a tall, skinny man.
"I'm working on one," Jack whispered back. The group floundered about the cargo hold for some time, looking for possible weapons as well as clues to the construction and function of the spacecraft, and discussing possible ways to take control.
The man who had whispered to Jack was called Abarth. He had often been seen walking around the town, a ragged old character with a friendly smile and a quick joke for whoever took time to listen. He didn't seem to have a home and no one was really sure where he came from.
"I have an idea," Abarth said. "If we rush the three Gray pilots of this craft, I bet that mechanical suit you're wearing could be plugged into the cont
rols. That would give you the ability to fly this thing and get us out of here."
"Gray pilots?" Jack said. "How do you know what these aliens are called? Or are you just guessing because of their color?"
Abarth's smile did not reach his eyes. "A good guess, don't you agree?"
"Sure! What's in a name, after all? But why do you think our technology would be compatible with theirs?"
"Well, it's obvious. They look like us. Two hands, two feet, two eyes, and I bet they even do things like us," Abarth responded, much too quickly and enthusiastically for Jack's comfort. "Can't hurt to try anyway. We will either succeed or die sometime down the road. I say we have a good chance to survive and we should try!"
The other members of the small party agreed with this ragged old man and Jack had to agree that they needed to take action, not just wait, hoping for a miracle.
They made their way to the bridge of the craft. Since the three Grays had no active personal repulse field, it was easy to kill them silently and quickly. Then, as Abarth had suggested, Jack plugged a communications cable into the soft, spongy console of the ship and, miraculously, found he had full control of the craft.
Too good to be true! Jack's suspicions of Abarth were confirmed. Something was very wrong.
He didn't advertise his suspicions. Instead, he quickly turned the ship's weapons on the other Gray ships and disabled them with little effort. Five of the small craft now hung in space motionless, containing the sole remaining humans from planet Crest.
As Jack wondered how to free the prisoners on the other ships, it appeared to happen spontaneously. The prisoners on every ship established communication and reported that they had killed all the Grays. The members of Jack's small party were very impressed. Jack himself made no comment. He wanted to believe what he had heard but he was too clever a cop to trust even his own ears. He had to find out what this old man called Abarth was up to. Not to mention how and why.
"We should not return to Crest," Abarth said. "The Grays might catch on to what's happened and come looking for us."
Jack considered this. "Well, what would you suggest we do?"
"You're plugged into this ship. It must have records of habitable planets near us."
Jack didn't believe Abarth's statements, not even for a moment. But he would go along with the game for now. "Well, let's have a look in the ship's memory then." After a moment, he said, "Look, the ship says there is a planet just a few hours from here. What are the chances?"
Abarth exclaimed, "Well, what are we waiting here for?" The freed prisoners responded with excitement.
The other ships had miraculously aelf-repaired and Jack was able to control and safely land them on a planet with breathable air, fresh water, and green trees. To Jack's surprise, no one else seemed to share his suspicions of Abarth.
As soon as he had a moment to himself and with no one looking on, he released the Battle Mech's constraints and flopped to the ground. His broken leg and arm hurt, and his one good eye saw blood still dripping from his damaged eye. "Well," he mumbled to himself, "Guess that proves I'm not dead or dreaming. But what's happening here?" He thought for some time and finally gave up, stumped. Nothing made sense.
Jack struggled back into the suit, which gave him mobility, and went back to the large group. They were busy building shelters and gathering wood for fires, and everywhere Jack went, they were quick to thank him for the rescue.
Jack sat by himself, thinking of the terrible way Ann had died and how unrealistic this situation seemed. The young girl from Jack's ship came and sat with him.
"I’m Rebecca and my mom calls me Becky but I hate that name. Are we dead?"
This question was the first hint that Jack might not be alone in his suspicions. "What made you ask that?" Jack offered cautiously, not wanting to let slip what he suspected.
"Well, things don't seem real. I can't believe you were able to control those ships and find a perfect planet. No offence meant, but you don't seem smart enough."
Rebecca's brash honesty impressed Jack but hurt his ego. He replied, "Well, I think I'm smart enough to know we're not dead."
"That's a relief," Rebecca said as she worried at a finger nail.
They sat for another long period, not talking, then Jack asked, "You any good at math?"
"No, not really," Rebecca responded. She was now shoving the finger with its broken nail in her mouth, gnawing on the colored tip.
"Too bad. I could really use some help with the math," Jack replied.
"Your suit has a computer. Just ask it; that's what I do at home."
Her response seemed so innocent and honest, Jack couldn't bring himself to admit he was teasing her. He was only trying to be silly, but the joke was lost on this kid. He said, "Well, Rebecca, how about we go try to find some answers? You with me?"
"Sure, I got nothing else to do," Rebecca said cheerfully.
"Okay, kid, let's track over to a ship and have a look about." The two made their way to the nearest ship, slipped onboard and tried operating the controls as Jack had done before. This time, though, there was no response from the alien craft.
Jack said, "Just as I suspected. The magic is gone."
"These things run on magic?" Rebecca responded in a disbelieving tone.
"No, that's just an expression," Jack replied as he pulled the communications cord from the craft's control panel.
"Maybe we should just do the same thing the Gray aliens did." Rebecca walked up to where the Grays had been sitting and shoved her small hands into the soft, pliable gloves attached to the armrests of the chair.
Nothing happened and Rebecca sighed heavily. Ready to give up, she started pulling her hands from the gloves. As her hands became visible, Rebecca reacted violently. Thousands of small white filaments were bonded to her fingers and but still held fast to the gloves. Rebecca frantically tried to free herself and Jack was quick to help, but no matter how they struggled, they could not break her hands free. The white filaments crept up her arms, ensnaring her. She began to cry.
Jack was panicking. Try as he might to prevent it, the filaments were beginning to cover Rebecca's entire body. In desperation, Jack shot the control panel, hoping that causing damage might have a result. The gunfire caught the attention of the other members of the group, who rushed to the craft.
They found Rebecca fully encased in the white filaments and being devoured as Jack fought to save her. Others tried to help free the girl, but as they made contact with her, they themselves became entangled. Five members of the group were trapped and it took several long agonizing minutes for the saucer to fully digest the humans. All the others could do was watch in horror.
However, it seemed that the saucer had little taste for Jack's Battle Mech suit. The composite metals apparently could not be digested. After everyone had vacated the ship, Jack vented his frustration and anger by launching several missiles and firing hundreds of rounds into the saucer. The violence utterly destroyed the craft. "The damn things are alive!" Jack shouted as the rest of the group tried to console one another. Jack attacked the second craft and then a third, seeking revenge but, when he approached the fourth, Abarth stopped him.
"Get the fuck out of my way, old man!" Jack snapped.
This pleased Abarth, for he desperately sought the fierce, violent, true nature of humanity. This was the untouched and untainted humanity of the early twenty-first century, the humanity he had been taught about in school, the humanity eager to kill. Like a vampire of myth, Abarth relished and felt elation at the brutal nature of primitive mankind.
"We will need the remaining crafts if we are to travel back to Earth," Abarth said. The expression on his face made it seem as though he were enjoying some perverted sexual pleasure from the human sorrow.
"Back to Earth!" shouted Jack, his one good eye firmly affixed to Abarth. "Are you mad? We can't travel that distance in these little saucers. No air, no food, no water. What the hell are you thinking?" Jack was shouting so fiercely that e
ven Abarth backed away for a second.
"It is important that some of us get to Earth, to warn the planet," Abarth responded at once, obviously trying to sway the others to support him.
"We have no idea how fast these saucers travel in space. We have no idea how to keep anyone alive in them and, most important, it appears I can no longer interface with the ship's controls. So if you have some bright ideas about how to solve these problems, please enlighten me." Jack was hoping to rattle Abarth. He'd been a cop for a long time, and thought a little pressure might crack the strange old man.
Abarth was smooth. He had a way of twisting truth into lies that sounded palatable for the desperate. "If we just wait, one of the Gray ships will return, looking for their missing friends. My guess is that it will be a bigger transport ship that comes and, if we are smart, we can kill them quickly and steal their craft."
This half-assed, improbable plan made sense to the rest of the people, since they were desperate for some way to fight back. "When they arrive, we will board the two saucers we have and fly into the mother ship. We can then fight our way to the control center and kill the Grays. Then we'll fly to Earth and warn the planet." Abarth was riding high on the responses from the others. They eagerly agreed with his idea mostly because the idea of going to Earth, their ancestral home, was too much to resist.
"How can you not hear me?" Jack retorted. "I just told you I can't control these ships!"
"You weren't doing it right. I will show you how it's done."
Abarth's calm demeanor and obvious lies were really beginning to wear on Jack, but he could see he had no support from the others. They would do anything to stay alive. Or, to keep on believing that they could stay alive.
***
The sudden explosion on the surface of the planet was violent, catching everyone off guard. The ground rippled and shook.
The explosion was the result of a time rip. Scientists had said over and over that time travel was a fallacy. But Abarth had found a way. Or rather, his friend Jet found a way. He had sent Abarth back in time using a time rip.