by Allan Burd
He was trembling. No, not just him. The entire ship was trembling. An instant later the vibration changed to a comforting hum. It was working. The fission reactor had successfully generated sufficient electricity through the ships outer conduits that an electromagnetic field surrounded the ship like a sheath and emitted an electromagnetic pulse. Every electronic device within a mile radius of the spaceship would be disrupted.
The Ninja was no exception.
Ishiguro’s finger tensed. Just one more second, he thought, while waiting for the missiles to lock into place.
Then the invisible pulse pierced the Ninja’s thick hull, short-circuiting its onboard computers and its guidance systems. Sparks flew off the controls, momentarily burning whatever they touched before fizzling out. Ishiguro’s virtual reality helmet crackled and caught fire. He hastily removed it, threw it to the floor, and stomped out the flames. Kenuchio’s heads up display sizzled then went dead and the helicopter began to sway wildly back and forth. He grabbed the stick with both hands, struggling fiercely to regain control.
To everyone’s surprise, including his own, he managed to succeed.
“Oh, shit.” Blaze stood bewildered inside the ship. His eyes grew wide with fear as the helicopter he was watching did not fall. He had sprung his trap perfectly. The ship powered up, and just as planned, an electromagnetic pulse was released against his enemy. Yet, for some reason, it didn’t work. The beast had been fatally struck by the blade of science, yet still it soared. It had fallen back under the force of the blow, but still it lived.
Had he overestimated the strength of the electromagnetic pulse? He was sure it was strong enough to disable all their systems. What went wrong? Could their pilots have been that skilled that they kept the Ninja flying manually, even after that sudden burst? It didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, the danger was still out there.
Think, Blaze, think. OK, the pulse did work. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be alive right now. So we’re out of immediate danger. I bought us some time. Then he looked up through the clear shielding and saw the helicopter slowly shift in the air. Its tail rotor rose, its nose angled downward, and it spun back slowly in his direction. He knew time had just run out.
Kenuchio and Ishiguro put out the small fires. They no longer had their advanced technology. They no longer could acquire a lock on a target. The sputtering rotor let them know they probably wouldn’t even make it back home. But none of that mattered to them. They could still complete their mission.
Kenuchio switched all the controls from automatic to manual. Ishiguro got out of his seat, stumbled toward the wing, and armed the missile by hand. Once the Ninja was steady, they would fire the missile using manual controls—just as they did in the old days.
For the first time since this battle began, Lynx smiled. The Ninja had left its side panels open too long. Its shape, no longer invisible to I-band radio waves, appeared on Lynx’s radar long enough for him to establish a target lock from a safe enough distance away that he was unaffected by the EM pulse. He also guessed by the way the Ninja moved that it was blind, its radar blown by the pulse. He could see it. It couldn’t see him. The tables had been turned.
When his targeting system locked onto the Ninja with a resounding long whine, Lynx fired one AIM-7 Sparrow from beneath his outer left wing store station and watched the trail of exhaust as it left in search of its prey. They wouldn’t see death coming for them until it was too late. Then, in the final second before their death, they would see it coming and know nothing could stop it. They would experience that ultimate fear, the same way his friends had. Then they would share their fate.
Kenuchio was concentrating. It was difficult to precisely position his helicopter with the rotor threatening to stall out. Ishiguro waited patiently beside him for his signal.
Kenuchio was close. He thought they might still make it out of here alive. If, after they destroyed the ship, they could land safely, then they could hook up with the second Ninja and escape. He selfishly pondered the rewards that would be heaped upon him when he returned home. They would be well deserved.
That’s when he saw death coming for him out of the corner of his eye. He screamed the command to fire, but before Ishiguro could do so, the Sparrow found its mark. The warhead detonated on impact, and in a violent fiery burst, the Ninja and its two-man crew were nothing more than a memory.
Blaze sighed in relief. It was the most beautiful display of fireworks he had ever seen. His trap had worked, though not exactly the way he had expected. Now, he still had time for Phase Two. He quickly resumed his work at a feverish pace, knowing the others might be here any minute.
He had yet to notice that right under his feet something phenomenal was taking place.
ENTITIES UNKNOWN
60
PRINCE RUPERT
A white light shone down on Stacy’s face, the minimal heat stirring her, the brightness piercing her closed eyelids. In a haze, she saw them. The aliens surrounded her, probing her with strange metal instruments that felt cold against her skin. Not again. She screamed, but no cry erupted from her throat.
“Ma’am,” a strong voice called out to her. “Ma’am.”
Stacy awoke with a gasp, quickly looking around in all directions. She was still lying in the front seat of the Dodge. Colored concentric circles of light strobed across the inflated white air bag. Pain. She brought a hand to her cheek, feeling the blood on her fingertips.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” The policeman leaned into the truck through the open passenger door.
“Huh!” she mumbled.
Seeing she was all right, the policeman continued scanning the remainder of the smashed up vehicle. His beam halted when he spotted Jack. “We need a medic here immediately,” he called out toward the road.
His partner, easily ten years his junior, opened up the driver’s side door and examined Jack’s face, over half of which was bruised purple and covered with drying blood. He felt his pulse—slow but steady—then stood up and waved over the Emergency Medical Technicians. He withdrew a pocket knife, deflated the air bag with a puncture, then unbuckled Jack’s seatbelt and cautiously pulled him out of the truck onto the waiting stretcher.
It was the first time since the attack that Stacy got a good look at Jack. She was unsure which was worse; the treatment she’d receive over the years at the hands of the aliens or the harsh treatment Jack received now. “How is he?”
One of the EMT’s made a quick diagnosis. “Don’t quite know yet, ma’am. He’s got multiple lacerations and contusions. Looks like he’s lost a lot of blood too. We won’t know for sure until we get him to the hospital.” Together, the four EMT’s lifted the stretcher and carried Jack out of the woods to the ambulance awaiting them on the road.
“How are you feeling, Ma’am?” the elder police officer asked.
Stacy shook her head and stretched her neck, getting a kink out. “I’m all right, I think.”
“This is some accident. What happened?”
“We were attacked by a sharkman … an alien. It appeared from out of nowhere and tried to kill us both.”
Both officers looked at each other, neither one believing what they just heard. They chalked it up to shock, figuring she must still be delirious. “Excuse me, Ma’am. Did you say alien?” the younger officer asked.
“Yeah, he’s right over there.” Stacy turned to the front of the truck and looked where the headlights still shone. But the alien was no longer there. “No … no, no, no.” She quickly exited the front seat and ran to the spot. The officers followed her. “I know I killed it. I know I did.” She looked around in a panic. “There.” She pointed to a rock stained with crimson fluids.
The officers looked at each other again. There was a dark stain on the rock which could have been blood. The elder officer bent down for a closer look, staring intently at the blotch. He reached out for it.
“Don’t,” yelled the younger officer. “You could be disturbing a crime scene.”
/> “Nah,” said the senior officer. “It’s probably just animal blood,” he said, softly enough that Stacy couldn’t hear. He touched the red spot with his index finger, feeling the wetness. It was fresh. He pulled a tissue from his left pocket and wiped his finger off. Then he shined his flashlight about, until he picked up on a trail of blood that led deeper into the woods. He followed it for a few feet then scanned ahead. “You stay here. I’m going to see where this leads.” He disappeared into the woods, his flashlight showing the way.
Stacy sat on the ground. “It’s not dead.”
The young officer approached her. “We’ll find it, Ma’am. Whatever it was that attacked you, we’ll get it.”
His words did not comfort her. She put her head in her hands and sobbed. “I can’t believe it’s not dead.”
A twig snapped.
The sound of rustling leaves came from the dark.
Stacy quickly looked up as the white flashlight beam once again crossed her eyes.
“Lost it,” the elder officer yelled, emerging from the thick trees. “Darnedest thing. The trail led up a tree, but there was nothing up there.”
The younger officer left Stacy and walked over to his partner. “I don’t know about any aliens, but something was here.”
They heard Stacy’s sobs from where they were standing. “It’s not dead,” she cried. “It’s not dead.”
“C’mon, let’s get her to the hospital. We’ll phone in our report on the way.”
61
Logan looked around from the front seat of the truck. Through the illumination of the moonlight and the burning fires he was able to survey the awful aftermath of the Japanese attack. He faced the lead Jeep, fearful to look too closely at the riddled bodies which lay in clear sight. Instead he focused his attention on the vehicle itself. It was completely destroyed—barely even fit to be sent to a scrap yard. He turned his head towards the woods and the Jeep that flipped upside-down. He saw two soldiers scanning inside the vehicle with their flashlights, their faces telling Logan all he needed to know.
So much death. The lengths people went to for a chance to grasp a new technology. But then again, he wasn’t really that surprised. He had seen the ruthless nature of some corporate moguls who felt the need to do whatever they had to, no matter how unscrupulous, to gain even the most minor competitive advantage. This was simply the next step up. Or was that step down?
He scanned further. His eyes glanced over the millions of shards of glass, shrapnel, and discarded empty bullet shells which littered the highway. His gaze stopped at the flames consuming the downed Ninja, the cause of all this carnage. The Ninja’s once proud hull was now reduced to nothing more than a smoldering metal carcass, another victim of someone’s greedy relentless pursuit of power. He saw the body of the pilot slumped forward in his chair, his safety harness still clinging to his corpse, perversely holding him in place. It was a fitting fate, yet still, he was glad he couldn’t see the massive chest wound that ended his rampage.
Then he looked at the worst of it—the tattered remains of soldiers being carried off the battlefield. The few who had survived did their best to tend to the wounded. Nothing brought home the real-life horror of the event more than that. It was an abhorrent scene—one he would carry with him for the rest of his life.
“On the count of three, lift,” Logan heard.
He shook his head, clearing the morbid thoughts from his consciousness so he could concentrate on the task at hand. Rebecca ordered him to assist Dupres in repairing the collapsed windshield of the truck, sparing him from the more grisly tasks. With a quick heft, they lodged the windshield back into place. Then Dupres went to work reinforcing the frame.
Logan marveled at how easily it slid back into place. Despite the relentless pounding it took, the truck was in remarkable condition. A testament to what men could do when they put their minds into building instead of destroying. The windshield was the only thing on the truck that needed repair. The rest of the damage—the pock marks, the chipped paint, the dents—was just superficial.
He stared out again, this time watching Rebecca—a marvelously complicated, capable woman. He understood more and more why Major Gaines had fallen for her. She had the portable satellite relay set up and was on the phone calling in assistance. He continued watching her as she knelt, microphone in one hand, receiver pressed against her ear in the other. Just like in the spaceship, she was professionally calm under pressure. Thanks to her, they were alive and everything was under control.
So what was nagging at him? True, there were the countless lives of good men wasted, but there was more to it than that. Maybe he was worried about Dr. Blaze and the others. Maybe, it had something to do with the alien that escaped. Whatever it was, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. “Dupres, you were one of the first men to make contact. What the hell happened that led to the fight with the aliens?”
Dupres ignored the question at first. “Grab that hammer for me?” he asked, peering into Logan’s eyes in an effort to read his intentions. He hesitated a moment. Logan seemed likable enough. Not like those other two. “Fear of the unknown,” he blurted out. “Simple as that. We were afraid of them. They were afraid of us. Things just got out of hand.”
Logan handed him the hammer. “What makes you think they were afraid?”
Dupres grabbed the hammer and leaned back. “Because we made them afraid,” he said. He used the hammer, pounding the bent areas of the frame back into shape. Then he ceased for a moment. “Friend of mine panicked. He saw one, got scared, and cut loose. That’s how all this killin’ started.” He reflected a moment on those words. “They ain’t killers, though. If they were, I wouldn’t be here. See this?” He used the hammer to point to the bandaged gash on his head. “One of them got me with that fancy weapon they got. So there I am, lying helpless at their feet, and what’d they do? Just grabbed my radio and took it apart piece by piece so I couldn’t alert anyone. The important thing was, once I was no longer a threat to them, they let me live.”
“But you killed one yourself on the ship,” Logan reminded him.
“No, I shot high to scare it off. The asshole standing next to me killed it,” he said.
The conversation just reinforced Logan’s belief that this whole sorry affair was due to ignorance, stupidity, and greed. He decided to change the topic before he got too angry. “What’s that all about?” He nodded towards Rebecca, whose demeanor had changed. Where only a moment ago she was clearly having a conversation with someone, now she was obviously unsuccessful in her attempt to reach someone else.
“Doesn’t look good, does it?” Dupres sighed. “Maybe things didn’t go as well for the Major.”
“I’ll be right back.” Logan left the front seat and walked over to Rebecca. “No one’s answering?” he asked her.
She lowered the receiver and began packing up the phone. “Smart boy. Is the truck ready yet?”
“Dupres will have it ready in a minute. What do you think happened to them?” Logan asked.
“We have to assume the worst.”
“You’re going to go on without them, aren’t you?”
“I have to. I have a mission that needs to be completed.”
“What about them?” Logan asked, referring to the wounded.
“I already called for assistance. They’ll be here soon. That’s the best I can do for them,” she said. She briskly made her way towards the truck.
Logan followed. “What if Gaines and the others didn’t make it?”
“Then I’m going to make sure they didn’t die for nothing. You ready?” she asked Dupres, who was putting the finishing touches on his repair job.
“Done. As long as nothing bigger than a bug hits it, it’ll hold.” Dupres answered.
“Lock the back and get it started. I’ll be right back.”
Logan watched her walk towards the remaining soldiers. He overheard her tell them about the emergency medical team on the way, then issue some final instructi
ons. He had a quick decision to make. He raced behind the truck, confirmed the fate of the Jeep that was shielded behind it, and then raced back to the driver’s side before Rebecca returned.
“Let’s go,” she ordered them.
“Just the three of us?” Dupres asked.
“Just the two of you. I’m not going,” said Logan. “The Jeep behind us was well protected by the truck. It still runs. I’m going to take it back to the spaceship and check on the others.”
“You aren’t that concerned about the shipment, are you?” she asked.
Logan realized he was leaving the technology solely in Canadian hands—a move he knew Chase would disapprove of. One his professional side disapproved of as well. But their lives were more important to him. No matter his personal dislike for Chase, he had to go back to make sure they were all right. “I’m worried about something a lot more important.”
“You’re a good man, Logan Grey, but you’d make a terrible soldier,” said Rebecca.
“So I’m learning.”
“Good luck, mon ami,” Dupres called out, sliding into the passenger’s seat.
Rebecca climbed in, closed the door, and rolled down her window. “Call us when you find anything.”
“Will do,” Logan shouted as they got the truck running and drove off. He looked over to the other soldiers and felt bad leaving them behind, but there was nothing he could do for them anyway. He got into the Jeep, reversed its direction, and drove back towards the ship.
62
Dr. Jeff Blaze browsed over the array of alien instrument panels. Undecipherable symbols flashed wildly. Touch-sensitive icons beyond immediate understanding lit up before him. Yet, not once did his belief in himself waver.
He knew he could do it. He knew he could complete Phase Two of his plan. He knew, by tomorrow, a new age of American scientific discovery would dawn.