Blackbeard's Aliens

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  "Come on now, Bonnet." He snapped his fingers.

  Swallowing hard, I stepped forward.

  "Do not be afraid, Stede." His words only made me more fearful. "This is what it has all been leading up to for you."

  Then, he opened the lid of the chest.

  I would have stumbled back away from it if he hadn't caught my arm and held me there. For the wooden box did not contain gold or silver or jewels, as I'd imagined.

  It looked to me like a tub of guts--like someone had taken the offal from the day's catch of fish and dumped it inside.

  The box was filled with glistening organs--deep red, pale gray, sickly green, onyx black. The mess smelled like guts, too, so rank and rotten it made me choke. I covered my nose and mouth with my hand, yet still the stench penetrated.

  "Closer, Stede." Blackbeard forced me forward. "This is your destiny."

  Standing so near, I realized that the guts in the chest were still moving--squirming and twisting before my eyes. The tip of a tentacle flicked up from the gruesome pudding, dragging a trail of slime with it. A flap of pink flesh rolled up, revealing a bloodshot eyeball the size of a breadfruit with a triangular pupil.

  "Listen to it, Stede!" Blackbeard pressed me closer to the box. "Hear its voice in your mind."

  "No, I..." Suddenly, I did hear something new. There was a voice--high-pitched and faint as the cry of a distant gull. It was saying something, speaking in a language I did not understand.

  And though at first I thought I heard it with my ears, I quickly realized it was not reaching me that way at all. Somehow, it was inside my head.

  "What...?" I listened, trying to pick out what it was telling me.

  Then, I heard Blackbeard's gruff voice alongside it, whispering in my ear. "Put your hands in, Stede. Let it become one with you."

  Another tentacle rose out of the mush and slithered toward me.

  "Don't fight it, Stede," said Blackbeard. "This is what you must do to save us all."

  He pressed me another inch forward--and then the ship lurched. A thunderous boom shuddered through the hull, as if the Queen Anne's Revenge had just slammed into another vessel.

  "It's starting." Blackbeard shut the chest. "Our time has come."

  "Time for what?" I said as we ran through the hold toward the ladders. "For me to become one with that obscenity back there?"

  He grabbed a ladder and shot me a look. "You'll do it, Stede, or everyone you know in this world will die, and you'll be the cause of it."

  *****

  The ship shook as we climbed above decks. I heard shots along the starboard bulwark, and saw the crew massed there with guns pointed down at the water.

  As we hurried toward the men, an enormous green hump appeared alongside the ship, rolling forward. I quickly realized it was the back of a living creature, covered in glistening turquoise scales, cut by a red rill running along the spine.

  "Sea serpent!" As the words left my lips, the creature's huge head reared up out of the water. It had the face of a dragon, with a long, reptilian snout, flared nostrils, and massive, jagged teeth. The red rill extended all the way to its forehead and stopped between its eyes, which blazed with telltale red light. "It's one of theirs, isn't it?"

  "I was wrong about the next attack coming from above!" Blackbeard dashed for the cannons, waving his cutlass overhead. "We must blow this thing to kingdom come!"

  By the time we got to the five starboard cannons, the men had already loaded them. Matches burned in hand...but no fuses had been lit.

  "We can't get a bead on it!" said one of the gunners. "Damn thing's too fast!"

  As he spoke, the serpent dove into the water and disappeared. Seconds later, the ship lurched as the thing struck us from below.

  Blackbeard grabbed the gunner's arm and shook him hard. "Get ready! You'll have your moment!" Then he released him and closed his eyes. The fuses woven through his hair began to glow and spark.

  When the men hesitated, I stalked among them, bellowing. "You heard him! Get ready to point the damn guns! Matches at the ready, you bastards!"

  As the men scrambled to prepare, the ship rocked once more and settled. I heard the sound of something huge emerging from the water.

  "There it is!" somebody shouted.

  "Light the guns!" I told them.

  As matches touched fuses all down the line, the serpent's giant skull burst up before us. Like a snake charmed by a swami, it slid up above the bulwark and stopped, eyes locked on Blackbeard.

  We had our moment. "Fire! Fire! Fire!" As I screamed out the order, the cannons belched forth their missiles amid great gouts of brimstone smoke. Three balls crashed into the head of the monster, smashing through flesh and bone alike with a sound like thunder and splintering trees.

  With an ear-splitting howl, the beast collapsed into the water and sank from sight. The ship swayed in the wake of its passing, then steadied.

  At which time, Blackbeard opened his eyes. The fuses in his hair were still burning.

  For a moment, I wondered if the men might rebel with no help from me--if this display of supernatural power might be enough to turn them against him out of sheer terror.

  Instead, they cheered him. He swung his cutlass overhead, and they cheered as one, not a shirker among them.

  "The battle is begun!" he roared. "Who will join me in tearing the enemy's throat out with my teeth?"

  Every man on the deck cried out in fervent assent.

  "Then hoist the mainsail! Best speed to Hispaniola!"

  *****

  We encountered no further sea monsters on the way to Hispaniola. Blackbeard said the demons weren't strong enough to fill the seas with them...yet.

  We met up with the rest of the fleet at Port-au-Prince. It was then I realized that our force had more than doubled in size.

  Instead of eight vessels, there were now sixteen, all heavily armed and sailing under black flags. By bribe or coercion, I know not which, Blackbeard had enlisted powerful pirate captains as allies in our war: Calico Jack Rackham, Charles Vane, Robert Deal, Israel Hands.

  Blackbeard gave each of them a chest--myself as well--and instructions. Each captain would sail out to a different location along the rim of the Gulf of Mexico, taking along a second ship for support.

  On the map, our destinations ringed the Gulf. When Blackbeard connected them with straight lines, they formed the points of a mystic pentagram star straddling the oblong sea.

  "When the moment comes, open your chest," said Blackbeard. "The thing inside is your salvation. You must unite with it. Allow it to work through you."

  I scowled as I stared at my own chest on the deck at my feet. I wanted nothing to do with its gruesome occupant.

  "How will we know when the moment arrives?" said Calico Jack.

  "Believe me, you'll know." Blackbeard stared at each of us in turn. "The bottom of the sea will rise and blot out the sun."

  "These...things." Vane tapped his chest with the tip of his cutlass. "What exactly will they do?"

  "The same thing all at once," said Blackbeard. "And this miracle will save us all, so long as no man refrains from his duty." He stomped his boot and glared at us. "So if doubts you have, speak up now!"

  Not a one of us said a word.

  *****

  Six days later, as Blackbeard predicted, the battle is in full swing. Did the other ships make it to their positions? I have no way of knowing, and no time to worry about it.

  My crew and I are too busy fighting to defend the good ship Adventure--first against a flying silver disk, and now against the twenty wedges that the disk has split itself into.

  The men fire their guns at the darting wedges, but they're no match for the deadly red beams that lance down to destroy them.

  The wedges make several runs along the length of our vessel--and then they stop and hover, ringing the deck. Doors open in the bellies of each of them, and skeletal, three-headed demons burst forth, screeching and brandishing fiery swords.

  "F
ight to the last man!" I howl as one of the demons scrambles toward me. "Aim for their middle heads!"

  I follow my own advice, unleashing a shot at the red-eyed skull sticking out of my attacker's chest. My aim is dead-on; the head explodes, and the demon tumbles to the deck.

  Heart hammering, I risk a look across the water at Blackbeard's ship--and what I see isn't good. The Queen Anne's Revenge is listing hard to port and giving off smoke. The triangular craft they've been fighting continues to batter the ship with fusillades of crimson beams.

  How much longer can either ship hold out? When will the moment come--the one Blackbeard told us to expect?

  As I think these thoughts, another demon bolts toward me. I run straight for it, slashing my saber at its chest...and the blade hacks through the bony middle head. The demon staggers back, clutching the cloven skull, and then it wails like a banshee and charges me again. I sidestep, barely, and the demon tumbles over the bulwark and into the sea.

  That's when it happens.

  I hear a thunderous rumbling from all directions. The gulf begins to churn and buck. Mighty swells toss the Adventure like a child's paper boat.

  I see the Queen Anne's Revenge sway too, rolling violently from side to side. Whatever's happening, both ships are caught in its grip.

  Suddenly, I see a vast, flat surface break the waves some five leagues hence. The sun glints on its silver skin as it rises from the deep.

  I cannot see the far end of it. This thing, this platform is so massive, it extends beyond the horizon.

  All along the curved edge, the sea pours off it in a wall of foaming white. The loudest roar I've ever heard booms across the gulf, like the sound of a thousand waterfalls crashing together all at once.

  As the platform continues to rise, the Adventure and Queen Anne's Revenge are swept forward, drawn by the pull of a vast whirlpool swirling beneath it. I shout the order to drop anchor, but no one hears me over the rush of the falling water or the ongoing battle with the demons--guns blasting, swords clanging against bone.

  As the monstrous object climbs higher, darkness washes over the Adventure. The sun has been blotted out.

  The moment Blackbeard predicted has arrived. I know what I have to do.

  Running to a nearby locker, I throw open the door and haul out the chest he gave me. Then I lift the lid and gaze upon the pulsating mass of organs and slime within.

  How do I do this? How do I become one with this squirming, rancid sludge?

  Suddenly, the darkness brightens. Looking up, I see red lights flaring to life in patterns along the underside of the vast platform. The light forms spirals, interlocking circles, rows of bars, clusters of pinpoints. It blinks and shifts and slides and spins, changing faster with each passing second.

  As if the platform, whatever it might be, is awakening.

  Just then, the ship lurches hard to starboard, and the chest starts to slide. I lunge to catch it--and my fingers touch the contents.

  Without warning, the voice I heard in the hold pours into my head. At first, it still speaks a foreign tongue--but then, it becomes the King's English.

  Not that I comprehend every word. Do you wish to initiate the electromagnetic pulse? That's what it says to me, in a woman's soothing voice.

  What the hell is that? The thought comes to me unbidden...but it gets an answer.

  The pulse will deactivate the World Machine, says the voice. It will destroy all onboard systems permanently.

  Another question comes to me. World Machine?

  The platform before you, says the voice. It was sent here millions of years ago to reshape this hostile environment into one more suitable. It crashed, and remained ever since at the bottom of the impact crater, which became a sea.

  It was sent here from where? I ask.

  Another world, says the voice. The people there have been trying to reactivate it ever since. They created portals but could only come through a few at a time. They sent organic machines, like me...but we have been reprogrammed by Edward Teach. We stand ready to deliver an electromagnetic pulse that will destroy the World Machine's systems. We await your order.

  I hesitate. What if I don't give it?

  All life on your world will be extinguished. And the purpose of your own existence will be unfulfilled.

  Purpose?

  You were chosen for this moment, says the voice. Everything that Edward Teach has done to you was designed to lead you to this task. You are one of the few humans equipped to interface with our technology.

  The ship rolls and pitches. I suppose I should feel special now...grateful. I guess I should look at Blackbeard with new eyes.

  But instead, I feel angrier than ever. I feel used.

  All this time, he's been playing me for a fool, manipulating me because...why? Did he not imagine I'd agree to help save the world? Could he not have just asked me?

  Suddenly, a thought flashes through my mind. All this power. Could I use it to destroy Edward Teach instead?

  Yes, says the voice. I can short-circuit the electrical impulses in his brain. However, I will not then be able to initiate the electromagnetic pulse that deactivates the World Machine.

  For so long, I've loathed that man. I've wanted nothing more than to destroy him and take back what's mine. Now, at last, I have the means.

  But can I bring myself to do it at such a cost? Do I have hatred enough in my heart that I'd let the world perish for the sake of revenge against one man?

  The lights on the underside of the platform flicker faster. A roaring tone, like the blare of a million foghorns, resonates outward, causing the decking under my feet to tremble. The Adventure and Queen Anne's Revenge rush closer to the whirlpool.

  The voice speaks to me again. Do you wish to initiate the electromagnetic pulse? Or do you wish to kill Edward Teach?

  I sink my hands deeper into the muck in the chest. I feel tentacles wrap around me, suckers attach to my flesh.

  I'm becoming one with the organic machine. I know, without asking, that I have scant seconds to issue a command.

  But I have to be honest. Right up till the end, I'm not sure what that command will be.

  *****

  "Stede?"

  I wake from a deep, dark sleep to the sound of his voice. To the rough grasp of his hand shaking my shoulder.

  Blackbeard.

  He chuckles and shakes me again. "Still alive, I see."

  Much to my surprise, I am--and so is he. For that's the decision I made: to sacrifice my vengeance and save mankind.

  Now look where it's got me. Washed up on the sand of an unknown shore like a tangle of flotsam--the pieces of a shattered ship washed up around me.

  As I roll over and sit up, I see a section of prow on the sand twenty yards away. I can make out part of a name on the broken boards: ADVENT.

  So this is what's left of the Adventure, the ship under my command. When the platform shut down and plunged back into the sea, tidal waves tossed her through the gulf and smashed her to bits here. It's a miracle I survived.

  And more of a miracle that his ship survived. Gazing out at the now-becalmed waters, I see the Queen Anne's Revenge floating under a pristine red and orange sunset, heavily damaged but intact.

  "Fine work, my friend." Blackbeard sits beside me, his glittering eyes taking in the sunset. "You, and Vane and Deal and Israel and Calico Jack...you saved us all." He laughs deep in his barrel chest, like a bear growling over a salmon. "A bunch of filthy pirates saved the world. How do you like that irony?"

  "You son of a bitch." I shake my head. "How did you save the Revenge?"

  He slaps me on the back so hard it hurts. "It's the Queen Anne's Revenge, Stede. I thought we'd settled that."

  My eyes drift over her half-furled sails, glowing red in the light of sunset. My heart pounds at the sight of her masts, her guns, her softly curved hull--the dark-haired maiden carved in teak on her prow.

  Nothing is settled. The only way it would have been is if the world had ended.


  "How right you are." I elbow him in the side as hard as I can...wondering, at the same time, which men survived among the crew and if I can turn them to my mutinous cause.

  Blackbeard pulls out a flask and takes a sip. "Beautiful evening, ain't it, ya' scurvy dog?"

  I take the flask and raise it in a toast before I drink. "'Tis a shame it must be ruined by a scabby bilge rat like you."

  *****

  Special Preview: Beware the Black Battlenaut

  By Robert T. Jeschonek

  Now On Sale

  Chapter 1

  "Looky there," said Swindle, the leperchaun on Grist Halcyon's shoulder. He pointed with a crumbling green finger at one of the Battlenaut's cockpit video screens, and Grist looked in that direction.

  On the screen, Grist saw the barren, storm-swept surface of the rebel-held moon, Sangre. The latest flare of lightning revealed a towering black figure on the crest of the hill. At that instant, the very first instant he glimpsed it, Grist knew in his heart what it was even as he knew in his head it just wasn't possible.

  The flare of light faded, and the black figure faded with it back into the night. When the next lightning struck a moment later, the hilltop was deserted.

  "Begorra." One rotting nostril fell away from Swindle's leprous face. "It's him, ain't it, boyo?"

  Grist blinked hard and shook his head. "Can't say." Just then, his arm burned as the automated hypodermic cuff strapped to his bicep shot a fresh jolt of go-juice into his system. A ring of lights around the forward viewport flashed in a pattern designed to reset his body's circadian rhythms.

  Must've been about to nod off. Can't have that, can we? As the go-juice pumped through his arteries, Grist felt himself return to full alertness. The Battlenaut's sensors and computers had done their job again, intervening at just the right moment with just the right dose of meds to keep Grist awake and alert for yet another hour.