Alien Manifesto

by T. W. Embry

  Snarth was right, they would think I was an informant. I had fought with some of those guys in Afghanistan; they would make some very bad enemies.

  Throwing caution to the wind: “Why not? They are no friends of mine,” I answered as I climbed onto the back of the strange, still-silent bike. I knew he wanted something, just not what. I decided that I owed no allegiance to those I was about to leave behind. This was not my S.E.A.L. team; there is no honor among thieves. Not even one of my newfound crew would hesitate to leave me behind if it meant saving their own ass. A saying from my warfare academy sensei echoed through my memory, a warrior must have patience and knowledge as well as courage to ensure victory. I decided to let the events unfold as they would, realizing that I no longer had control over this situation.

  “Here, put thisss on,” Snarth hissed as he handed me a helmet. “Now hold on tight,” he advised. “We will have to hurry. In fact, we may have waited too long already.” In the distance, I could see red and blue lights flashing, headed our way, cops. Like Snarth had said, lots of them. With a sudden burst of incredible acceleration, we left my stomach back at the dock. I hoped it would catch up soon.

  Seeing my whitened knuckles as I held on for dear life during the ride and laughing in a fit of tentacle movement, Snarth shouted back over the speed of the wind, “Too fassst for you?” His bike still made no sound.

  “No, just my first time on a bike like this,” I shot back, embarrassment coloring my now wind-burned cheeks. I hated being laughed at by anyone. It brought back all those times at the orphanage when the nuns used to single me out for ridicule just because I did not believe the lies they passed off as faith. That and the way Shorty tormented me, bullying every time the nuns turned their back, laughing, taunting me, trying to make me angry enough to strike, then beating me senseless every time I tried to defend myself.

  That is why I joined the S.E.A.L.s. So I could learn how to take out anyone who did laugh at me. Not many made that mistake, none more than once. No one would ever make me believe or do anything I did not want to ever again. That fight might come later. For now, I was more curious than mad.

  We arrived a short while later at a large private estate, heading straight for the huge boathouse, after a spine tingling ride through Miami’s dimly lit, and fortunately at this time of night, empty outskirts. This cycle moved through the streets with no sound and at unbelievable speeds. I doubt any human pilot’s reflexes would be fast enough to handle it at full speed in these close quarters.

  Snarth’s ship was a very long and sleek, modern style motor yacht moored inside the boathouse. That was a deep-water slip! There would be much more under the waterline, I realized as I dismounted the bike, making a mental note to myself.

  As we approached, a door slid silently open, spilling out an intense white, lighting our way up the gangplank.

  “Welcome aboard, Tom,” greeted the most stunning redhead I had ever seen, as I stepped on board for the first time.

  “Thisss isss Tasssha,” hissed my host, introducing us, reaching for my helmet. “ssShe will sssee to your every need while you are onboard. Pleassse make yourssself at home. Now if you will excussse me for a moment, I mussst ssspeak to the captain.” With that, Snarth disappeared up the stairs, presumably leading to the bridge, leaving me in the company of Tasha.

  As if on cue, she said, also in perfect English, “Would you like a chilled glass of Belgian abbey ale? Or would you prefer a smoke first? Snarth only keeps the finest of things on hand for his guests. I recommend a chilled mug of Snarth’s favorite ale. It is a very small Belgian abbey ale. Snarth is their only customer,” she said as she smiled. “That should be followed by a bit of Snarth’s smoke of the finest kind. If you indulge in its pleasures as well, that is. Maybe then you will be ready for your bath,” Tasha said as she led me by the hand into the ship’s forward lounge.

  ~

  Much later I asked, “Are you human?” regretting it immediately.

  In a sultry voice Tasha answered, a faint smile on her pouty red lips. “You don’t know me well enough to ask that, yet,” she said, letting long, red hair down, her almost see-through teddy sliding down her now nude body to the floor. She stepped into the stone whirlpool tub, joining me. The sight of her flawless curves and stunning beauty sent me instantly from aroused to a painful urgent need.

  ~

  Sometime later, I awoke to: “On your feet, sssoldier,” bellowed in a voice like my old master chief’s. In reflex, I bounded out of bed straight to attention, still naked. It was my host, Snarth; my companion from the night before had vanished. I will never get used to the tentacle fit that passes for Snarth’s laugh.

  As I reached for a robe, the large viewports behind Snarth slowly opened. I was awe struck at the sight of mother Earth spinning below in her magnificent blue. It was an awe-inspiring sight. In silence, we watched for a moment. This is a space ship, not a motor yacht like I had thought it was.

  It suddenly occurred to me that an alien would have to have some kind of space ship. Or else he wouldn’t be an alien now would he. I just didn’t think I would ever be onboard one. I was trying not to let my excitement show, but this was awesome. No one would ever believe that I, Tom Scott, was now an astronaut.

  “Did you enjoy yourssself lassst night?” asked Snarth.

  Relaxing to a normal stance I answered, “Yes, yes sir I did. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Not the leassst bit curiousss why I brought you here?” Snarth asked.

  “A warrior knows when it is a time to be silent and learn your opponent before you attack. To reveal tactics is to lose,” I answered, again quoting my sensei at the warfare academy.

  “Well sssaid young Human Tom, well sssaid. OK, here it isss. I am in need of a sssmall team of honorable warriorsss and thievesss. I want you to be part of it. Sssomeone owesss me a great deal of profit and I want it back. Thisss perssson isss alssso in possssessssion of an artifact of great value to sssome of my clientsss. Ssso I am recruiting a hand ssselected team to sssteal the artifact ssso I can get my profit back.”

  “Thank you for getting me out of that jam,” I said. “But I am afraid that is not my kind of thing. I have decided that I am not a professional thief, nor do I want to be. There is no honor in stealing. Last night at the dock was my first attempt at a life of crime. I don’t think that kind of life would suit me, I was only in it for the money,” I answered.

  “You might change your mind when you find out who it isss that I want you to sssteal from,” hissed Snarth softly. “I will pay you more money than you can ssspend in a life of luxury on Earth.”

  “I don’t think so,” I answered. “Listen, it’s been fun, now if you will kindly return me to Earth I will be on my way.” Return me to earth, I marveled at how easily that phrase came to mind and passed so effortlessly off my lips.

  “It’sss ssShorty,” Snarth hissed in a low tone. “You sssee, I am not the only one to recruit from Earth. Unfortunately for ssShorty’s bossss, my former busssinessss assssociate, he chossse ssShorty. It alssso got him disssintegrated, leaving ssShorty in control of hisss operation and me out of a great deal of profit. You and ssShorty were friendsss once. I want you to reacquaint yourssself with him, get him to make a missstake. It might sssave hisss life. I am not the only one who wantsss the artifact and the othersss are not azsss civilized azsss I am. If they find out he hasss the artifact, they will jussst kill him and take it. Then I won’t get my profit back. ssSo you sssee my boy, that placesss you in a rather unique bargaining posssition,” Snarth hissed in explanation, with what I had come to recognize as a large Snarth grin.

  “How did Shorty get to wherever he is?” I asked Snarth.

  “Like I sssaid, I am not the only busssinessssman to recruit from Earth. I however, have much higher ssstandardsss for my teammatesss. I warned Cal’vin that ssShorty wasss dangerousss but he did not lisssten and he paid the price,” Snarth hissed in answer.

  “Can I have some time to think
about it?” I asked Snarth. “After all, it’s my ass if he finds out. Besides, who is to say Shorty will even recognize me or accept me into his organization? And just for the record, Shorty and I were never friends,” I finished flatly, remembering each and every beat down Shorty had given me at the orphanage, a long repressed rage beginning to build inside. A rage I thought I had conquered long ago. I knew that if I ever saw Shorty again I would kill him slowly and painfully. I was not that out of control child anymore, striking out in anger; my fighting skills were now honed to a razor’s edge and proven in combat. Visions of what I would do to Shorty’s face danced through my mind. Perhaps the time to settle that score was finally here.

  “That isss exactly why I need you,” Snarth exclaimed, glossing over that last little fact. “Like I sssaid, I will pay you more money than you can ssspend in a lifetime of luxury on Earth. Take your time to decide. I don’t need an anssswer before morning,” Snarth hissed, smiling with another one of his vigorous grins, as Tasha walked into the room. He left us alone, again.

  I remember thinking, much later, that if this was a life of luxury, sign me up for a full tour. With a mech servant to cook your meal and clean your clothes, good beer, good smoke and a life that was easy. However, the “fresher” was the true wonder on this ship. It was a completely automated bathroom. It was a little strange at first but really cool after that.

  In the morning, as if on cue, Snarth appeared. “What isss your anssswer, Human Tom? I have other candidatesss to processss if you refussse. I have waited long enough. I mussst know your anssswer, now,” Snarth insisted solemnly and now all business.

  Bowing deeply from my waist to him I answered, “First let me thank you for your excellent hospitality. You have fine tastes in pleasures of all sorts. I accept your generous offer. I have a long-standing grudge to settle with Shorty. If I can help a new friend and settle an old score at the same time then all the better.” I was appealing to Snarth’s sense of larceny and honor at the same time, not that I needed to. After all, he recruited me. Tasha had been coaching me in galactic etiquette and social graces.

  Bowing in return and with another enormous Snarth smile he said, “Excellent, excellent indeed. Now we will join the ressst of the team.” Leaning into the console at his elbow Snarth hissed, “Captain, take usss straight to my essstate with all hassste.”

  “Yes sir,” croaked a mechanical voice in response.

  “Do try and get it right thisss time,” Snarth hissed back. Seeing my worried look Snarth smiled and said, “Nothing to worry about, my boy. The sssafetiesss are engaged on the guidance sssyssstem, I hope,” he hissed with what I would come to know as one of his sly smiles.

  Then the room suddenly began to swim and I went down, everything disappearing into a swirling blackness.

  “Nothing to worry about, my boy,” hissed Snarth, leaning over me waving some foul smelling ampule under my nose as I regained consciousness, lying flat on the deck.

  “Happensss to all of usss on the firssst time we fold ssspace,” he hissed. “It hasss to do with your equilibrium and time sssenssse. You will get usssed to it sssoon enough. We will be arriving at my essstate sssoon. Then you will meet the other membersss of the team. A few wordsss of advice, don’t mention the Irishman’s nossse, it isss very large and he isss quite sssensssitive about it. If you do, it will lead to trouble. Alssso, sssteer clear of the canine; he hasss a bit of a nasssty temper when he isss hungry if he doesssn’t know you. Don’t worry my boy, once they accept you azsss part of the team you all will get along fine,” Snarth assured me with a pat on the back, as he helped me back on my feet.

  “Accept me?” I asked, as I shook off the remnants of whatever that awful smelling stuff was.

  “Yesss, after tryoutsss and basssic weaponsss training, that isss if you sssurvive it.” Snarth hissed. “Did I forget to mention tryoutsss? Nothing much my boy, jussst a ssseriesss of testsss, endurance, adaptability, ssstealth and mossst of all, honor. You will do fine; after all you passssed ssS.E.A.L. training did you not? Think of thisss azsss training in advanced weaponsss with expert inssstructorsss. Oh come now, no glum face, thisss will be fun. Trust me!” Snarth hissed, his hands up in a friendly gesture, with what must pass for his best shit-eating, tentacle wiggling, grin on his face.

  Despite my apprehension, I was looking forward to some new training. I had gotten soft and slow hanging around those former associates of mine. I could use some exercise and new training.

  Note to self, the next time Snarth says, “Thisss will be fun, trussst me,” smack him in the tentacles. Comparing this training to S.E.A.L. training is like comparing a full-grown African lion to a large house cat. I have never been so bushed in all my life. It was worse than hell week most of the time.

  ~

  Each day was ten solid hours of weapons drills. Not only with weapons I was familiar with using, but swords, bows, crossbows and knives. This was followed by hours of physical training and had been my life for the past three months. All the training was starting to pay off. I had finally beaten the Irishman, the only other human in Snarth’s employment, in marksmanship and graduated to physical combat with the canine fight master. Next, I will be stealth training with a feline stealth master.

  During my first training session with the canine fight master, I ended up sprawled out on the training mat. I struggled to hold onto consciousness after having received a particularly nasty roundhouse kick, straight to the head, compliments of the canine fight master. A kick so hard I would have lost teeth if not for the training helmet and mouthpiece I was wearing. As I struggled to regain my senses, I heard the advice of my sensei, a whisper inside of my poor boggled brain. The one who is arrogant in his strength and skill will pause at the moment of truth to brag, that is when he is most vulnerable, that is when you must strike.

  Sure enough, the canine was confident in his dominance of a mere human and he paused to pound his chest and howl in boast. I rolled left and threw a right leg kick at the back of his knees, connecting; bringing him down to my level. I followed with a perfect left leg uppercut kick to the chin, knocking him backward. Then, putting some distance between us, I back flipped, landing into my fighting stance.

  The canine fight master was badly dazed when he landed at the edge of the training mat. Much to Snarth’s amusement, when he walked into the gym, he saw the canine fight master flat on his back, just like I had been a minute ago. I bet the canine fight master would not make that mistake again.

  “Well ssstruck my boy, well ssstruck. You will pay for it when he getsss up, but enjoy your victory for now,” he hissed from the side of the training mat while clapping loudly.

  Pay for it I did, spending the next twenty-four hours in the bacta tank, regrowing the broken rib and healing the bruises I sustained when the angry and very embarrassed canine fight master resumed my training. Nevertheless, I had earned his respect and proved I could take a beating. I didn’t know it then but the canine and I would become the best of friends.

  The next few phases went quickly as it was mostly review with new tools. The last and most difficult phase was stealth. I had no idea what to expect. A feline stealth master taught it. One who could not be heard or touched, not even by the expertise and enhanced senses of the canine fight master. As I studied, I began to understand the art and philosophy of stealth. It reminded me of Earth martial arts, on steroids. Soon I excelled, surpassing all the other team members.

  The last step in stealth training was the final test. I must steal a preselected object from each of my instructors without being caught. I must be silent and invisible otherwise I would fail.

  I easily retrieved the first three objects from the canine fight master, the Irishman and Snarth. Now it was time to steal the last object from the stealth master himself. I selected a personal anti-grav glider for my acquisition of the last object. It was small, silent, and camouflaged, and perfect for the task at hand.

  All my anti-detection devices were on and functioning p
roperly, special clothing to hide my scent, another one made me invisible by bending light around me as I moved; I was ready, or so I thought. As I entered what I thought were the empty quarters of the feline master, I froze. Surprised by the feline master’s presence, I struggled to control my heart rate and breathing. The sensors had said this room was empty.

  He was seated on the floor in deep meditation, still as a stone statue, his eyes closed, and his ever-twitching tail motionless, curled around his legs. The object I had to steal lay on the floor in front of him. Slowly so as not to create air currents, I inched toward the motionless master. I slowly lowered the anti-grav sled. Carefully, slowly, I stretched out my camouflaged arm to claim my prize.

  The feline master mewed ever so softly: “I can feel your presence young one. The penalty for failure in this trial is death.” I froze, not daring to breathe, and waited. My heart was hammering in my chest. Only inches left to go, surely he could not sense my presence. I knew I could not be seen or smelled, so careful was my camouflage. He must only suspect I am here, I had stifled any reaction that might give me away, slowing my heart and breathing. Cautious, I must be cautious; I have come too far to fail by being careless.

  Seconds of stillness turned into minutes then slowly hours passed. I willed myself to be a stone, silent and unmoving. I concentrated only on slowing my breathing and heart rate, trying to be undetectable. Suddenly, and as silent as a rising puff of smoke, the feline master floated to his feet. He picked up the object, locking it away for safekeeping in a secret compartment in the wall behind him. And just as suddenly and silently, he was gone.

  What a stroke of luck, I thought. A few minutes’ wait and it will be mine. My heart sped up a beat in anticipation. As I started to turn towards the cabinet, the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I could feel the master’s gaze boring into the back of my head. He had returned. Only now, he was camouflaged as well. I could feel him, his intensity even while cloaked, and see him in my mind’s eye. Silently I let my anti-grav skid float up to the ceiling, and I waited, not daring to breathe. I had not fallen into the trap of fear and it had saved me, again, maybe.