Multiverse 1

by Chris Hechtl

  M’P’Roth sighted down the area and raised his arms to fire when a signal from the wounded wraith made him pause. “Wait and watch,” was all she sent him. He paused and turned to look at her, and then a slight noise in the rocks below him made him turn. Suddenly, three more pits were exposed as six warriors uncloaked and untangled themselves to expose the hellhounds hiding below.

  The hellhounds received their activation signal at the same time, and leapt up out of the pit, running boot-up routines even as they charged into battle. The warriors found cover behind boulders, waiting for the hellhounds to get nearly there. However, the Scorpions detected the cybernetics turning on behind them and turned, and two warriors were killed just before reaching cover. The fifteen hellhounds bounded into attack range and leapt, roaring in their fury over their fallen comrades and in battle rage. The Octobot spun and reared up; plasma knifed down from its one remaining front limb to cut into one of the hellhounds. Its pack continued on and concentrated fire from the forty-four warriors, and M’P’Roth cut the Octobot down. It fell next to its squealing singed victim, and in a seemingly final act of defiance, a limb crashed down crushing the wounded creature’s skull.

  With the Spider mecha still out of sight and the last Scorpion falling to the hellhound pack, concentrated fire from the warriors and last remaining Cyborg mecha, M’P’Roth felt a familiar tingle in his communications implants as Gra’pratha ordered two warriors to help the wounded and two of the uninjured to climb the cliff sides and go into lait’va ral. The hellhounds were recalled, and the wounded sent back to cover the injured warriors.

  Six repaired hellcats arrived as the vanguard of the true battle but were quickly destroyed by the hellhounds. Four hellhounds were injured; two killed in the battle. With the melee battle, the warriors couldn’t fire without hitting their own. Gra’pratha ordered the injured into shut down and turned to the sounds of the approaching Spider mecha.

  M’P’Roth admired Gra’pratha’s plan; it had all the signatures of a wraith, misdirection, strikes and all, but the coming super mecha were a concern. Left alone, they would repair all the destroyed mecha, and the battle, with all its dead Zerinoth, would be worthless.

  Suddenly, the Spider mecha arrived together. The wraiths were exposed by the Spider mecha superior sight and two were hit; one was ripped apart by the concentrated guns of the lead super mech as the survivors fled to cover. One super mecha deployed in front took fire but dished it out in concentrated waves, targeting each warrior in turn and decimating their position. It's lower arms deployed, grabbing hellcat parts and began putting them back together. The second super mecha dragged the large mecha backward and out of the line of fire, and arms along its underside began to fly as it began repairing an Octobot.

  Gra’pratha signaled the hellhounds to attack as the last Cyborg mecha exploded. M’P’Roth targeted carefully as the broad shouldered Cyborg beasts scrambled over ichor-slimed rocks to get to the super mecha. Carefully he aimed, and when the mech moved a leg it exposed its frontal lower weapons pod…and two hits made the hated thing explode into splinters.

  The Spider mecha switched targets to M’P’Roth, and he dropped into the hole on top of the wraith, who grunted in pain and amusement. Rail gun rounds screamed overhead and into the rock face, making him grimace; he couldn't relocate with her there. Then he chuckled as he heard a second explosion, and the guns stopped firing at him.

  He exposed one eye for a careful peek, hearing a subsonic growl of disapproval from the wounded wraith. The hellhounds were nearly on target, and the explosion had come from the second lower pod. He began to sight carefully, but a scream for cover over the tactical net forced him down just as a single gun erupted and rounds chipped away at where his head had been. Chips rained down on them, and he couldn’t quite cover his head fast enough and one bounced off his helmet and cut his cheek.

  Gra’pratha sent a signal through her repeater set, and the hellhounds sprung onto the partially assembled hellcats, ripping them apart. The Spider mecha tried to crush the hellhounds with its massive legs, striking down and making the ground around bounce with the massive force of their blows.

  Some hellhounds lost their footing and tripped, but one hellhound made a mighty leap and caught one of the lower repair appendages. The arms swiveled and grabbed the hound, and it screamed as the arms cut into it and dissected it. The other hellhounds leaped up and attacked the legs, destroying three before the Spider mecha digested the knowledge it had gained and began to fight back.

  Guns on the second super mech opened up as it dropped its torso down, and the hellhounds screamed in pain and fury as they were ripped apart. Looking up again, M’P’Roth had time to witness this, and then picked up the signal from the commander as she ordered the true attack.

  From above two warriors uncloaked and attacked, falling from their caves to attack the first mech from above. Guns fired and each of the remaining knee guns were destroyed. The second super mech swiveled its knee guns to target the falling warriors, and one exploded in a welter of gore and shattered armor.

  His death covered the other, who dropped onto the lead spider mecha and sank her talons and toe claws into the face of the spider. It bucked and tried to throw her off, but she held on and with both hands began to rip and shred everything in reach. Fire from the warriors targeted the legs, and the mech tried to turn to allow it's follower a shot.

  The warrior managed to create two holes in the armor and reached in with her arms, burying her arms and forearm guns into the cavities and triggering a blast from all four guns into the brain of the robot. The robot collapsed as the plasma ripped through its brain, ripping off chunks from within to ricochet around inside the great machine. It kicked in its death throes, then splattered down onto the dead hellhounds, spraying the area in gore. The triumphant warrior roared her victory and pushed back, but in her triumph she exposed herself to the second super mech who quickly cut her down.

  The newly repaired Octobot deployed to attack and keep the warriors busy, but the warriors quickly cut it down with concentrated fire. Two hellcats follow it and were quickly cut down. Gra’pratha ordered half of the warriors to relocate to new locations and ordered two more warriors to scale the wall and circle around the Spider.

  M’P’Roth provided cover fire, targeting and taking down more hellcats as they were repaired and rushed back into battle. The lead warrior got to the corner and paused, leaning forward; he exposed his head and beamed back the image of the Spider mech retreating down the path it had come from just before it targeted and decapitated him.

  Sighing in frustration Gra’pratha ordered the warriors to treat the wounded. One of the injured surviving hellhounds was judged too injured. Three of its legs had been cut apart, and it had a massive torso wound. Gra’pratha silently ordered the Cyborg creature into final shutdown. Gra’pratha scattered the remaining Demon Mecha parts with last wraith, and destroyed the bodies of the dead Zerinoth so they wouldn't fall into enemy hands.

  M’P’Roth took a deep breath and reached down. Carefully, he helped the wounded wraith to her feet. She winced as weight was placed on her wounded leg, and he gently supported her to keep her from falling. She crooned softly, hand claws feather light touching him.

  He felt Gra’pratha call in a report and send in a request for an airlift. He sighed heavily and felt a rumble of amusement from his wounded comrade. The first pair of scouts swooped into view, and he felt the tingle of his IFF kick over his communication net.

  It was frustrating. They had managed to kill one Spider mech and destroy the attacking force well before it reached the base perimeter, but in a week another would be built. Or even sooner if the factory had one already in production he thought moodily.

  Warriors loaded the wounded onto the arriving transports, as techs exited the crafts to analyze the wreckage of the enemy and recover the fallen Zerinoth mecha. M’P’Roth looked up as he settled the wounded wraith onto her stretcher. The sun was now setting in a glorious array o
f color and light. Perhaps it was not all bad since he was still here to witness it.

  The End

  Survival of the Fittest

  The following wasn't initially a Bootstrap Colony story. It was inspired by Land of the Lost, Survivor, Survivorman, Flight 29 Down, Gilligan's Island, Lost, America 2040, Earth 2, Freedom's Landing, Dragonsdawn, and others.

  Characters:

  Saul Roper, male pilot: injured. Head injury, broken arm, leg, and ribs.

  Copilot: Male, killed in crash.

  Ralph: Aircraft flight engineer, killed.

  Larry Wilson: Boy Scout and survival expert, injured leg and arm. Confined to camp.

  Wendy Wilson: Girl, eight-year-old child, mother killed, daughter to Wilson traumatized.

  Dennis Wilson: Blond six-year-old son of Larry and the late Odel Wilson. He is freckled, wears a pair of dirty overalls and a red shirt (Dennis the menace).

  Professor of engineering, Roy Hinkley: Main character, quiet tinkerer, can-do person. Youngest professor. Went to college during junior high and high school. Earned a masters in engineering when he was 21. Single. Modeled after Gilligan's Island's professor. Scoutmaster.

  Jonas Grumby, skipper, fisherman: Fisherman in charge of fishing, quiet-like engineer, can-do person.

  Doc: Female doctor

  Shawn Roberts: Stock broker, husband to Catrina. Former stock broker. Owned brokerage. “Howell.”

  Catrina Roberts: Bossy female bitch vegan and pushy about everyone following her lead. Trophy wife to Shawn Roberts.

  Susan Somner: Assistant to the Roberts. Follower. Takes care of their Yorkshire terrier Muffins.

  Flower: Hippy teen female air head prone to freak out. Gets in with surfer dude.

  Surfer dude: Professional surfer. Has a prize winning Border collie who can do tricks. Fisher. Diver.

  Paramedic: Male paramedic newlywed to Doc (on honeymoon).

  Red head female and blonde male: High school students (teens).

  Carpenter: Hadji Muhammad: carpenter from Turkey. Follower of Roberts Clan with ever silent wife.

  Cookie: Female chef.

  Corporal Klinger: Marine in charge of security. 4th survival expert. A bit battered by wreck.

  Gunnery sergeant Usher: Retired marine noncom injured on arrival.

  Walter: Older gent, has heart attack. Nursed back to health over time. Chemist.

  Welder: Machinist/welder injured in crash. Helped engineer tear into aircraft later.

  Patty O’Toole: Irish lass secretary. Religious like Roberts, in clan but not comfortable. Tagged along with fisherman.

  Old potter: Friend and traveling companion of Cookie, is a ceramic expert.

  Nutritionist and young son.

  Botanist: Older female, botany is a hobby; she was manager of greenhouse.

  Architectural student: Female on vacation

  Stewardess 1 and 2: Females, one is a college student another is a prostewardess. One KIA; broke back in crash.

  Diver: Male dive instructor talked out of going into water. Part of fisher group.

  Male and female surfers becomes part of the fishers.

  Sandy Jenkins biology student in college studying biochemistry.

  Ashley Simmons: ROTC student, Girl Scout becomes one of the hunters.

  PFC Harris: Army National Guard private, one of the hunters.

  Laura: Australian 20-year-old found later, managed to survive. Was a zookeeper.

  Jane Dask: Widow (husband killed by raptor) nurse from New Zealand.

  Cassie and Stacy Dask: Twin 11-year-old daughters of Jane traumatized at death of dad.

  Chase Mclintock: 60-year-old rancher.

  Janice Mclintock: Wife of chase, old hand at roughing it and "making do." Both full of farmer grit and wisdom.

  The pilot of 747 flight 447C blinked at the floating things in his vision and shook his head. He closed his eyes, scrubbed his face and looked at his copilot. “You seeing what I'm seeing?” he demanded.

  The other was staring out the window, eyes wide and mouth agape at the giant glowing squids floating around the clouds. “I'm guessing that's a yes,” he said.

  He cleared his throat and then clicked the microphone. “Tower 117, this is flight 447, charlie. We've got ourselves a situation. You're not going to believe it, but we've got UFOs, repeat UFOs on our flight path. They are keeping station with us,” he said. He jinked the rudder, but the aliens seemed to keep pace with him. He frowned, “Any ideas here on what to do?” he asked. He frowned, “And no, I'm not making this up,” he turned to his copilot. “Am I Adison?” he demanded.

  The man nodded and then flinched when his commander poked him. “Um, yeah, sorry, I'm here,” he said. He shook his head in wonder then hit his own transmit button. “Tower this is 447C echo, Adison here, I'm seeing the same UFOs. Great big flying jellyfish complete with tentacles. Glowing blue and keeping pace with us just fine,” he said. He turned to his boss. “Boss man, you think we should maybe get the hell out of here?”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing myself,” the pilot murmured.

  ~~~~~O~~~~~

  MrequeX%&? Also known as Mre the Impatient One was having an off day. It was typical, so typical for the mortals to make things difficult. It was assigned to transport the beings quaintly calling themselves humans to reserve planet two to the power of four. However, six of its targets were deceased; how rather inconsiderate of them. They seemed to have passed on sometime in the year interval from his warning to them and now. He made a note to the collective and then moved on to his next targets.

  It located five additional targets in one place, on a crude aerial transport; however, that introduced a dilemma. It was supposed to transport the targets, but others with them were not assigned. The transport speed precluded stopping it and extracting the beings. However, if it transported all the beings, it would more than make up for the loss of four of the mortals (if they survived the landing). He judged that enough would do so. Perhaps 10 percent, more than enough to serve his programming.

  “What is the delay?” &8A13C demanded.

  “The collective calls me the impatient one?” Mre asked.

  “You sent a plan to transport additional mortals outside the selection. They have not been warned of travel.”

  “No, but we are out of time for protocol,” Mre replied. It inflated its sack and sent a signal of its intentions to the collective and &8. The older being digested the idea and then flashed a riot of color.

  “I will do this with the others in this area. The mortal known as Mitch has drained energy resources for quadrant five. >ME&%$WX reported a delay in transport activities.”

  “So…what does that have to do with us?” Mre demanded as it began shaping the transport. Programs blossomed to life as it accessed stored energy from the core in order to form the wormhole. It would be tricky; the collective hadn't moved an object in motion at such speed in an eon. Mre accessed the records of that transport and refined its calculations based on that information.

  “We must herd the transport to the portal,” &8 said. “That will take time. Making a large event horizon that it cannot avoid is a problem.”

  “We could interface directly with the mortals and inform them of our intentions,” z134 suggested.

  The older beings ignored the lesser. After all, it had only three syllables to its name, an indication of its miniscule age and experience. It bobbed in frustration then backed off.

  “What about the lesser beings? Many are unfit to pass on their gene sequences. They would inhibit growth of the species,” &8 stated.

  “Survival of the fittest. They first have to survive the landing.”

  “True. Our protocols require us to only transport them to the designated reserve planet safely.”

  “Exactly. We have other duties to attend to. If they wish to fly in such crude contraptions than they can find their own way down. One way or the other.”

  “Agreed. Your plan?” &8 asked.

  “You
use the younger set to herd them where we wish to go. I've already set up the transport. I'll set it ahead of the transport's course.”

  “Understood. Will comply.”

  ~~~~~O~~~~~

  “What the hell are they doing? They are just floating there,” the pilot grumped.

  “They are herding us, Skipper. Just riding our flanks,” the copilot said. He leaned forward to see smaller blobs under and over them as well. “They are funneling us.”

  “For what? It's like we're in a jellyfish swarm!”

  “Only way out is through I think. I'm just not sure about it. Can we put on more speed?” The copilot asked anxiously.

  The pilot glanced down at his controls and then shook his head. “No. We've tried dodging them, that's out. “Tower, we're in trouble here, I strongly suggest someone send some armed backup to get us out. And fast,” he said over the radio.

  “We're not getting any return signal,” the copilot said. He turned to look over his shoulder to the flight engineer. Ralph shook his head no.