Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2

by William C. Seigler

  Fitz looked at the pad. It read: Hello, we cannot communicate using headbands. Such communications are closely guarded. We must use this device. Have I communicated clearly?

  Fitz looked up and nodded, “Yes.” He then wrote on the pad: Yes, who are you?

  I am privileged to be the friend of the Most Honorable Whose Name I Am Unworthy To Use, but I will use it anyway as I have access.

  Mei Ling looked at the pad then they exchanged glances. He wrote: I don’t understand. How is this possible? Do you have a computer program that will translate?

  The Grey wrote back: No, I am doing this myself.

  Fitz’s eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. “What?” he said aloud.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Mei Ling.

  “This Grey is translating in his head. I didn’t know that was possible. He has learned our language.”

  “Is that good?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Fitz typed feverishly. Who are you and why are you here? Who is this ‘Most Honorable’ you mentioned? Are you from the command structure of the Greys?

  One question at a time, please. No, I am not from the command structure. The Most Honorable is your friend whom you call, Cee. I am here because you called. The little Grey alien handed the pad back to Fitz.

  Fitz mouthed the words as he wrote, “How is it that you know our language?”

  This situation created problems for him. This new development should be reported to his superiors, and so should what was probably an unauthorized contact.

  One’s unworthy self is a linguist. But what of that? What is so desperate that you needed to contact the Honorable Cee?

  Fitz looked perplexed. He typed in: Are you an authorized contact with the humans?

  The new Grey typed: No.

  “Well that explains why there is no headband, but a linguist,” he said looking over at Mei Ling.

  “What friend?” asked Mei Ling.

  “He was the one on the mission, you know the rescue mission, and the unauthorized mission that…” he broke off.

  “Some mission you can’t talk about?”

  “Some mission I can’t talk about,” Fitz responded.

  “What are we going to do about this situation? I don’t think a Grey has ever been to the Moon,” she added.

  “No, neither do I.” Fitz typed: Are you authorized to be here?

  Whose authorization are you inquiring about?

  “What kind of crazy answer is that?” asked Mei Ling.

  “Now you know why we have to train before we can work with them. Okay, let’s start off with something simple.”

  He took the pad and wrote: Are you trained by the high command to work directly with humans?

  She wrote back: No.

  “Oh boy.”

  “What is it?” asked Mei Ling.

  “Only we have just about broken every rule in the book. That’s all.”

  “We haven’t broken the one about killing Prime Ministers.”

  “Point taken. Now, what do we do?”

  At that moment, the door announced another visitor. They exchanged glances. “That’s all we need,” said Fitz.

  “I had better see who it is.”

  “Let me hide our visitor,” said Fitz. He motioned the alien to follow him. The alien did.

  “It’s Juliette,” Mei Ling sang out.

  The alien wrote: No one must know I am here.

  Fitz wrote back: Don’t worry, it is a friend.

  “Hi girl, I’m not going to ask what took so long,” Juliette sang out as she entered.

  “It’s not what you think. Come in.” Then Mei Ling did something that got Juliette’s attention. Mei Ling stepped outside and looked around to see if Juliette had been followed.

  “Okay, what was that all about?”

  “You might want to sit down.”

  “Okay.”

  Mei Ling went to the bedroom and said, “She’s inside, and the door is locked.”

  Fitz stuck his head around to where he could see Juliette. “Hi, Juliette.”

  “Hi, what’s going on?”

  “Well, we’ve got another visitor. I’m just not sure how much more trouble you want to get in.”

  “You’re kidding, it gets worse?”

  Fitz motioned the Grey, but instead of coming out he wrote on the pad. Is this the room where humans sleep and make more humans?

  Fitz typed: Yes, but that is not important now.

  No, one supposes it is not. No one else should know of my presence.

  Understood, but this human is with us in all matters, come. He led the Grey from the bedroom, and Juliette got her first look at a Grey in person.

  Once Juliette found her voice, she said, “Yep, it gets worse. Isn’t there some kind of rule about harboring space aliens in your apartment?”

  “If not, there probably will be soon,” Fitz answered.

  “And we have broken nearly all of the rules already on the books in the last few minutes, I presume,” added Mei Ling.

  “Just about,” answered Fitz.

  They were studying the Grey alien as he studied each of them in turn. Its mouth moved, but only the slightest sound came out. He quickly returned to the pad.

  We have not much time. Why were you trying to contact my betrothed?

  “Your betrothed?” blurted Fitz.

  Mei Ling took the pad and typed: Are you a boy or a girl?

  The little alien almost grinned. When the pad was handed back to her, it read: I am neither a boy nor a girl. That implies human. I am not a human; I am, however, a female of my species.

  “Well, that explains why he, I mean she looks funny. I mean … you know what I mean,” stammered Fitz.

  Mei Ling cocked an eyebrow, “We’ll discuss this later.” Then she wrote: What is your name?

  I have two names. I was always called Tu-Mun-Hee. Now I am known as the Betrothed of Ceo-loc-win-nok, whom you call Cee.

  “Why is she here?” interjected Juliette. “It’s obvious that her presence implies some sort of desperate act.”

  “Yes, it does,” replied Fitz. He took the pad, and typed: Why are you here?

  She wrote back: I am here because you called to Cee. He is very closely watched. At this time, he is not authorized to have any contact with humans, especially you.

  “Especially me?” he said glancing at Mei Ling.

  Juliette got up and walked over close to the alien. “She seems so much more real than in the newscasts.”

  Juliette asked Fitz, “Your contact could not make it, so he sent his girlfriend. Is that it?”

  “That must be it,” answered Fitz.

  He took the pad and typed: Cee could not come so he sent you. Is that correct?

  She answered: You have seen the problem clearly. Now, what do you want me to do?

  Fitz was staring at the little being trying to get his head around what has just happened. What did he want? He wanted to find Cee.

  I need to find our friend Cee, he wrote on the pad as the little alien continued to look around.

  “For what purpose do you want him?”

  I need a jump ship, wrote Fitz.

  Why do you need such a ship? You could request one through channels.

  He wrote back: No, I cannot. What I am doing is of the greatest importance and must be kept secret.

  Why?

  “Bad men are trying to destroy the Legion. I need to get supplies to them,” Fitz spoke as he wrote. He did this to avoid any misunderstandings.

  I do not understand.

  Fitz seemed flustered. “Okay, try this.” He typed: Are you aware that our Prime Minister has been assassinated?

  What is assassinated?

  “Murdered.”

  Yes
, we are aware of that. One understands that the Legion murdered him. Is that why the Legion is to be destroyed?

  “Oh boy,” said Fitz. Then he typed: “Do you know about guile?”

  The alien typed: The Most Honorable Cee has tried to explain it to me, but one’s unworthy self has not found understanding.

  “I don’t know how to explain this,” said Fitz.

  “Hang on.” It was Juliette. “Let me see that.” She took the pad from Fitz’s hands and began to type.

  She spoke as she typed. There is not much time. The Legion is in great danger. They will all be killed. We are trying to save them. There is not time for lengthy explanations. Will you help us?

  The little alien seemed agitated. One’s unworthy self will do whatever the blood bound of the Most Honorable Cee requests.

  Juliette looked over at her companions. “I believe in getting to the point, and I suspect so do our friends.”

  “Perhaps you should be trained to deal with them directly,” replied Fitz.

  The alien was staring from one to the other of them; then she actually blinked. Fitz had never seen this behavior.

  When do you need the jump ship, where is it to meet you, how long do you need it, and where is it to go? She handed the pad back to Juliette.

  “Okay, let’s stop and think this through,” said Fitz.

  “If you catch the next jump ship, you can be back with the Admiral, in thirty-six hours,” said Mei Ling.

  “Yes, but we can’t have an unscheduled jump ship just drop into the system and land on base,” replied Fitz.

  “Okay then, the Admiral has an in-system ship. How long would it take you to get well outside New Earth’s system?” asked Juliette.

  “Not long, though actually …” Fitz paused in thought. “Actually, it would be better if they met behind the furthermost planet out. That would be difficult to detect.”

  He typed: It is important that the jump ship not be detected. Wait a moment; I must make some calculations. He went to his computer and began to work.

  Mei Ling took the pad and typed: When are you to be married?

  The alien made some calculations. In three of your weeks.

  Mei Ling typed: May you have many fat healthy babies. She handed the pad back to the alien. It is not known if the aliens can blush, but later the ladies swore she did.

  Fitz returned and took the pad. He typed in the time and coordinates of the pickup. He gave special attention to the need for absolute secrecy. He was not certain how long he would need the jump ship, but now he knew where it would have to go.

  Chapter 23 - Move Out

  “Sir,” began Dmitri. Denver tried to stand, but his legs would not obey. He had fallen asleep again, where he fell, slumped against a wall.

  Having Dmitri calling him “Sir” was going to take some getting used to. Smith willed himself to a standing position, “Yes, what do you have?”

  “You going to be all right?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Dmitri did not believe him. “We have laid out new positions, as you ordered. Three ridges back there are other caverns even bigger than these. Maybe we should have gone there first.”

  “No, it’s better this way, but we’ve got to move fast. I need your men to take down the growing tanks and move them to the new location. I’ll get some tracks for you.”

  “My men are pretty tired,” said Dmitri.

  “Yes and so is everyone else. They are still exhausted from the fight, but if I’m right, the lizards will blow these mountain ridges to bits.”

  Legionnaires had collapsed in their fighting positions. If the enemy had made one more push, they might not have held. Now, only a few hours after the fight, Denver had to rally the troops and move to new positions before the enemy demolished their mountains.

  “You think so?”

  “What would you do if you were their commander, and your losses had been so great?”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t try that again,” agreed Dmitri.

  “Explain that to your men. We’ve got to move. You got the route laid out where you can lead us back?”

  “Of course.”

  “Great, thanks Dmitri. Let’s get moving.” Smith lumbered forward on legs he could barely feel, his toes stinging. He stumbled toward an upper-level entrance.

  Once on the surface, he could hardly believe the devastation and the smell. There was a carpet of bodies for a kilometer or more. Where the defenses began, there was a great wall of bodies. The carpet of bodies washed up to the next wall at the next defensive position.

  He could hear the moans of the wounded. What should he do, leave them in the hope their people would come for them in time, or put them out of their misery? Even if he had the manpower and materials, his people did not know how to help them.

  “Sergeant Washington,” he radioed. No answer. It would be like this everywhere. He headed off to personally find his commanders.

  He soon found Washington. After the fight, he had brought his men back to the mess unit where they collapsed still carrying their weapons and equipment.

  Smith shook him. “Sergeant Washington wake up.”

  “Wha….”

  Smith helped him to his feet. “Casualties?”

  Washington rubbed his eyes. “Lost a couple of men, five more are at the aid station.”

  “I need you to get your men up; we’re moving.”

  “Moving where?”

  “To a new location.”

  Washington shook his head rapidly trying to get all the marbles lined up. “Why are we moving?”

  “I suspect they will blow this mountain apart.”

  “Oh, yeah, that would do it.” Washington took a step and stumbled but caught himself. Now he was coming fully awake.

  “Sir, shouldn’t we feed first?”

  “You are probably right.”

  “I can have coffee and sweet cakes and maybe some soup in an hour.”

  “Good, do it, then get ready to move out.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Smith went to find his battalion commanders. Lieutenant Sam Clemens was standing over a table looking at casualty reports.

  “Hello Lieutenant.”

  Clemens looked up, his eyes blurry.

  “You are the only one I’ve found awake,” began Smith.

  “I’m too wired to sleep.”

  “What’s the state of your battalion?”

  “We took casualties. Between the dead and wounded, I’ve lost better than a platoon.”

  “Have you been to the aid station?”

  “Just got back; it’s a mess,” answered Clemens.

  “I can imagine. I’ll need to stop by there shortly, but right now, I need you to get ready to move out.”

  “Move out?”

  “Yes, we are moving to a new location that Lieutenant Pisstitoff and his men have found.”

  The officer looked perplexed. “Look, I know you’ve just been through one hell of a fight, but look at it from the enemy commander’s point of view. What would you do?” asked Smith.

  “Well, I certainly would not launch another suicide attack. Have you seen outside?”

  “Yes, I have. Now, what would you do?”

  “I would blow this mountain to bits,” replied Clemens.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I would do. I just don’t want us to be here when it happens.”

  “I’ll get them moving.”

  “Mess will have something for them in an hour.”

  “Hey, that’s always good. There is something else.”

  “Yes?” asked Smith.

  “We should be able to find weapons and ammo down there.”

  “Yes, send a detachment, but be careful.”

  “I’ll lead it myself.”

  “Good,�
� replied Smith and off he went.

  Next, he checked in on radar. Lieutenant William Jones was slumped in a corner sound asleep. One man was asleep next to the radar equipment, but one man was standing over the screen watching it.

  Smith thought the operator was awake until he saw his glazed eyes. The man was asleep standing up with his eyes open.

  Smith took him by the shoulder and shook him. He blinked and looked around at Smith confused. “Sir?” he eventually said.

  “You all right?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Anything on radar?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Everyone is asleep,” said Smith.

  “It’s okay, if there is something an alarm will sound.”

  “Then why are you awake?”

  “Don’t trust all this automatic stuff.”

  “Me neither.” Smith turned and awoke Lieutenant Jones.

  Jones looked up, “How did I get down here?”

  “Looks like you fell.”

  “Maybe so,” he said struggling to his feet. Then he added, “How did we do?”

  “We whipped them hard. Have you been outside?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You should see it, but right now I need you to get your men ready to move out. We are going to a new location.”

  “New location, should I break the radar down now or wait?”

  “Better wait, mess will have grub shortly. Get your men down there in shifts. Keep your equipment up until the last possible minute. I’ll have some tracks to move you to the new location. When you get there, waste no time in getting set up and operational.”

  “Yes sir, but why are we moving?”

  Smith explained what he was doing once again and added, “Make sure your men know what we are doing and why.”

  This went on with varying degrees of resistance until the Legion was on its feet and busy. There was the usual degree of complaining, but Smith reminded himself ‘as long as the troops can bitch there is nothing to worry about, it’s when they stop bitching, that you have to start worrying’.

  Finally, he made it to the aid station. The wounded were stretched out everywhere. There were not enough cots so many were just lying on a sheet on the floor of the cave.

  He stopped beside one man with no legs who looked up and smiled. “Hello sir.”