Alpha Contact

by P. K. Hawkins

  Johnson looked taken aback. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Jane instead of Johnson.”

  “Out of everything I’ve just said, that’s all you took away from it?”

  “Look, Bernhard, uh, Captain, er…actually, I don’t think I even know your first name?”

  “Not that it matters, but it’s James.”

  “James, I’m very much aware of what the stakes are and how unlikely it is that we’ll be walking away from it. Which is why I thought it was important to say, uh…”

  Bernhard cocked his head. “Johnson, don’t. Even if we do survive this, there’s no chance of us ever being together. Our lives are too different, and neither of us would be willing to make a change for the other. So if you’re expecting this to be the part where we share some dramatic kiss, then I’m sorry to embarrass you. But we can’t and shouldn’t.”

  “Huh? Um, Bernhard, I was just going to say that I think your daughter would be proud of you. And, uh, that’s all I was going to say.”

  It took every ounce of Bernhard’s will to keep himself from blushing. “Oh. Uh, yes.”

  “You really thought I wanted to kiss you?” Johnson asked.

  “No! Of course not. It’s just, um…”

  “Bernhard, I think you’ll make an excellent father to your daughter when you’re finally ready to go to her, but as far as me? You’re not my type.”

  “Of course not.”

  They stared at each other in awkward quiet for several moments before both of them, through mutual silent agreement, turned around and headed to their respective vehicles for their crash course in alien piloting.

  This? This right here? Bernhard thought. This is why I’ll always be career military. Fighting off alien invaders? Easy. Trying not to look like an ass in front of the opposite sex? I’ll never get it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “…and that is how you should operate inertial dampeners as designed for Kroptoid physiology,” the Heart said.

  “Heart, has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible teacher?” Bernhard asked.

  “No, they have not,” the Heart said. “This is the first time I have attempted to teach anyone anything.”

  And it shows, Bernhard thought to himself, but he prided himself on picking things up quickly, so he was confident that he would be able to operate the mech with minimal embarrassment to himself. He was experienced in getting behind the controls of new, previously untested vehicles, however. If he was having trouble learning the ins and outs of Kroptoid mechs, then he suspected some of the other remaining members of the team were doing worse.

  “You said ‘Kroptoid,’” Bernhard said. “I’m assuming that would be the name of the alien race this once belonged to?”

  “The Kroptoids were the race indigenous to a planet they called…” The Heart made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a hiccough. “They were the first race eliminated by this offshoot of the Cortex.”

  “And you had no problem with that?” Bernhard asked.

  “I am not programmed to have any concern for beings outside the Visitor.”

  “Yet you’re helping us now. Why?”

  “You are aboard the Visitor.”

  “But all the people we’re trying to save aren’t. And I could already list a half dozen things you’ve done to help us that can’t really be considered central to your programming of maintaining the ship’s life support. So again, why?”

  For a long time, there was no answer. Bernhard began to suspect that something had gone wrong and the Heart was no longer functioning.

  “Heart? Are you still there?”

  “In the last three hours, you are the fourth member of your group to ask me that question.”

  “And how did you answer the other three?”

  “I did not have an answer, and I still do not.”

  “Maybe that’s just the inevitable byproduct of you being programmed to generally protect life. Eventually, you actually start caring about it.”

  “That is the same thing that Dr. Jane Johnson said to me. Perhaps it is an idea that requires further thought.”

  At the mention of Johnson, he felt himself blush again. It would be no use going back to those thoughts, not when they were so close to the end of this and he needed to keep his concentration. “Heart, are you able to take what I’m saying and broadcast it to all the others the same way you’re doing to us?”

  “I can. Go ahead and speak, but do remember that this connection can only go between vessels that are physically touching the Visitor in some manner.”

  “Alright everyone, this is Bernhard. I hope you’ve enjoyed your crash courses as well as I have, because we only have twenty minutes to go before the Visitor exits the haze. Here’s the battle plan based on everything the Heart has told me. Zersky, I trust the Ambassador is ready to go?”

  “About as ready as it can be, Captain. It’s like I said earlier: these old shuttles aren’t designed for these kinds of take-offs, but with the Heart’s help, I think I’ve got everything ready.”

  “The Ambassador is to launch five minutes before the Visitor leaves the haze. Zersky, while you’ll be able to contact Earth once you’re out of the Visitor, we won’t be able to talk to you. So according to the Heart, you will need to keep the comms down for exactly one minute and twenty-two seconds after the Visitor leaves the haze. That’s how long it will take for enough of the Cortex to wake up to fulfill the Heart’s programming. If you turn it on too early, the Heart will be forced to go back into the haze and set off the EMP. Too late, and the two hundred and fifty alien soldiers we’ll be fighting will become a whole lot more. The Ambassador must stay within range of the Visitor at all times. When the Visitor grounds on the moon, the Ambassador has to go with it. It cannot come back in at any point or the jamming will take out its signal again. Hopefully, at that point, the rest of us will still be alive, and you can use one of the space suits to get back to us after you’ve told command back on Earth what happened and that we’ll need an extraction. Any questions, Zersky?”

  “None at all. I’m ready to do this.”

  The rest of the plans consisted mostly of positioning the six alien vehicles in the most optimal way to fight off the Cortex. According to the Heart, they would wake unaware that anything had gone wrong and that they had been stuck in stasis for an extra week and a half. They would be armed, but they wouldn’t be expecting an attack from within the ship itself. Since the hive mind would not be able to communicate with them to change their orders when they got into the hangar and found all their fighter craft missing, their tactical abilities would theoretically be minimal. Bernhard wasn’t planning on counting on that, though. Whoever had “programmed” all the life forms they’d encountered on the Visitor so far, they hadn’t done very well at filling in gaps in the programming. That would likely make the Cortex more unpredictable than they should be. Bernhard wanted them all to be prepared for anything.

  “T-minus five minutes and counting,” Zersky said. “This is the Ambassador signing off. Good luck to everyone.” The old shuttle trundled out of the hangar, and the instant the wheels left the floor and it was out the Visitor’s door, they lost all contact with Zersky. He was a good pilot, so Bernhard wasn’t too worried, but so much depended on him being able to fly a machine that had existed since before he was born. A hundred things could go wrong, and all it would take was one to cause a chain reaction that would lead to the end of humanity.

  “Everyone else, get into position,” Bernhard said. “Sound off. Teng?”

  “I am go.”

  “Tshien?”

  “Ready.”

  “Dufresne?”

  “Wait, am I supposed to say ‘ready’ or ‘I’m go?’ I’m confused.”

  “Dufresne, seriously.”

  “Um, ready, I guess.”

  “Houston?”

  “Oh my God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Uh, does that mean…?”

  “I’m go.” />
  “Johnson?”

  “My body is ready.”

  “Er, okay. And this is Bernhard, ready. Does anybody have any last words?”

  “Last words? Why would you say that? Seriously, I think…”

  “Not you, Dufresne. I mean anybody else?”

  No one responded. According to the countdown the Heart had been keeping inside his mech, they had less than two minutes before the Visitor crossed out of the haze. Two minutes before combat. Two minutes until they found out if their meager little force would be enough to keep all of humanity safe. He’d been in combat before, and he wanted to think that this was no different than any other mission he had been in as part of the 843rd Special Operations Squadron. Except there was no comparing the scale. This was the biggest, most important thing he had ever done in his life.

  And I’m doing it for you, baby girl, he thought. If I don’t make it out of this, I hope you have a long and happy life.

  The countdown hit zero. A part of him had almost expected the entire Visitor to rumble with the momentous occasion, but mostly he knew better. They were simply passing outside an invisible line, and right now, in that very first room they had entered upon going deeper into the Visitor, hundreds of stasis tubes were opening to let out their deadly, single-minded occupants. The three fighter crafts, piloted by Teng, Houston, and Dufresne, lifted off from their spots on the hangar floor to hover at key areas around the hangar that provided them the best sniping points. On the ground, Bernhard took the middle spot between Tshien in the other mech and Johnson in the crab tank. If things went exactly according to plan, the Cortex soldiers would march right into the ambush and be cut down before more than just a handful could return fire.

  Bernhard had plenty of experience that said things never went according to plan.

  At first, he thought the vibrating of his mech was coming from the Heart again, but it didn’t speak. Apparently, it had gone back into its mode of conscientious objector, although whatever communications mojo it had worked on them still allowed him to speak with Tshien and Johnson. Instead, the vibration was coming through the floor. Judging from the rhythmic way he could feel it in his bones, the Cortex soldiers were all marching in perfect step with each other.

  Except, he realized, given the advanced technology of the Visitor, he doubted that a mere two hundred and fifty soldiers would be enough to make the floor shake.

  “Bernhard, I think something’s wrong,” Johnson said.

  “I think you’re right,” Bernhard responded. Something had to have gone wrong with Zersky. Either the comm equipment on the Ambassador was not strong enough to block the hive mind’s signal after all, or else the rickety old shuttle wasn’t keeping proper pace with the Visitor. Whatever the case, they had no way of knowing for sure. As long as he was out there and they were in here, they couldn’t get any idea of what might be wrong.

  Not only were they about to fight a much larger number of the Cortex than they had originally planned, but if the Cortex was able to communicate with the hive mind during the actual fight, they wouldn’t just blunder right into their ambush. The Cortex would be coordinated, hundreds and hundreds of elite alien shock troops versus six people in advanced weaponry they barely understood.

  I’m never going to see my daughter again, Bernhard thought. Rather than dampen his spirits, that thought steeled him for the battle to come. At the very least, I can make her mother tell her heroic stories about me.

  Bernhard put his hands on the controls, preparing to use the mech’s laser cannon to cut a swath through the Cortex the instant he saw the first one through the door. Their position would create a bottleneck for the soldiers, and hopefully their unexpected numbers would work against them as bodies fell and blocked the path of those still marching.

  Bernhard tightened his fingers on the unusually shaped triggers. “Okay, everyone. Here we –”

  Right as he saw the first hint of a Cortex soldier coming at them from down the hall, something smashed into his mech from the side and sent it sprawling on the hangar floor. Bernhard smashed his head against a protruding piece inside the cockpit, and for too many precious seconds, all he could see was a brilliant blue-white flash across his vision.

  As his sight came back to him fully, he realized the mech was lying flat on its back. Through the cockpit window, Bernhard saw Tshien in his own mech staring at him. The mech’s bladed melee weapon was out, and from the look of the mech’s stance, that was what it had used to knock Bernhard’s down. Inside Tshien’s cockpit, Tshien stared back at him with a blank stare that Bernhard had come to recognize quite well by now.

  “Hello again,” the Nerve said, speaking through Tshien’s vocal cords. “I cannot allow any of you to continue in this course of action.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Multiple thoughts went through Bernhard’s head all at once. The first was that the Nerve had to have positioned worms in Tshien’s mech. It was the only way he could think of that Tshien might have been compromised. The second was that, if it could have happened to Tshien, then any number of the others could have also been taken over by now. The third thought was that Zersky could have been one of them. If he had been, then this was all over. The Nerve, working through the body of Zersky, had to do nothing more than wait this all out as the Ambassador floated aimlessly through space. With no one turn on the shuttle’s comm equipment to block the hive mind’s signal, the Cortex would continue waking up and continue coming at them like hardened tactical units rather than mindless marching drones.

  I can’t allow myself to believe that, even for a second, Bernhard thought. Not that he even had time to dwell on that, as Tshien’s mech was rearing back with its blade like it was preparing to ram it straight through the cockpit and into Bernhard’s prone body. Before it could, however, Johnson’s crab tank ran straight into it with enough force that Tshien’s mech flew a good fifty feet through the air before it hit the floor and skidded to a halt face down. The six mechanical legs on the tank pivoted it so Bernhard could see Johnson through her own canopy. With one of the tank’s four manipulator arms, she grabbed Bernhard’s mech and helped right him.

  “He’s down, but he won’t stay that way,” Johnson said. “One of us has to take him out.”

  “You concentrate all your fire on the Cortex,” Bernhard said. “I’ll go for the Nerve.”

  “But how are you going to –?”

  “For once just do what I say without questioning orders, Johnson!”

  She turned the tank back around to face the oncoming horde. Although the fighter ships had taken out a number of soldiers already, it was obvious that just through sheer numbers the Cortex could overwhelm them quickly, and that was before any of them had even brought their weapons to bear. Johnson activated a beam on her tank that wiped out the entire front row of Cortex soldiers, but the beam apparently needed time to recharge. In the mean-time, the next emotionless soldiers in line marched over the charred bodies of their fallen comrades. Bernhard had hope that these vehicles, advanced as far as humans were concerned, would be enough, but that was when they had believed they were facing a much smaller number. Now, with the Cortex continuing to wake up and march mercilessly for them, Bernhard couldn’t help but remember that the three ground vehicles were, in fact, the weapons of the losers.

  And one of those vehicles wasn’t even fighting at their side. As much as Bernhard wished he could turn around and face the Cortex right beside Johnson, he couldn’t do that as long as they were fighting this battle on two fronts. If nothing else, Bernhard’s duty now was to keep the Nerve occupied while the others continued their defense.

  Moving as fast as his inexperienced hands could make the mech go, Bernhard ran over to where Tshien’s mech was struggling to get back up. Using his own melee blade, he slashed down at the mech’s knee, or whatever the equivalent was called in something where the joint bent backwards. He’d hoped the attack would be enough to sever part of the leg, but whatever the Kroptoids had used to bu
ild these things was apparently too strong to give under just one blow.

  Before Bernhard could try striking again, Tshien’s mech executed a complicated twist and flip, bringing it back to its feet and in a fighting stance.

  “Bernhard, you will not win this fight,” the Nerve said. “I have not only the knowledge I took from your teammates, but also the Kroptoids that I killed long ago. I know how to operate this machine in a way you never could.”

  Bernhard was about to make some kind of snarky rejoinder before pressing the attack again, then thought better of it when it occurred to him that this was his chance for a little extra intel. “Do you really need to try killing us now?” Bernhard asked. “You’ve already got Zersky. As long as you control him, the rest of us will be helpless.”

  “I do not know what you are talking about. I have not yet taken over Zersky’s body.”

  Bingo, Bernhard thought. Tshien, being now revealed as part of the Nerve, couldn’t lie. And that meant that Zersky was still out there, struggling to do his duty, and there was still a chance for them in here.

  Bernhard almost sat and contemplated this for too long. Tshien rushed at him with the mech’s blade, only barely missing Bernhard as he dodged. While Bernhard’s pride wanted to make him think that he really could take out the Nerve in a mech, he knew better. The Nerve was right that it would be able to do things with the mech Bernhard could only dream of, so the longer the two of them fought, the lower Bernhard’s chances were of survival.

  Bernhard had to do something to make this fight end quickly, long before the Nerve could wear him down. Bernhard looked around for anything he might be able to use to help, but the hangar was now empty except for the two mechs, the crab tank, and the fighters flying overhead as they tried to vaporize the ever-approaching lines of the Cortex. There was nothing else to the hangar but the hangar itself.

  And, Bernhard suddenly realized, the massive gaping door that led directly into space. There might have been some kind of field over it preventing explosive decompression, but the Ambassador had both come and gone through it with no problem. And if the shuttle could go through it, so, he assumed, could a mech.