The Deadliest Earthling

by Gibson Morales

  “Because your friends aren’t the only ones the Anunnaki have in their grasp. What about Orun? If you succeed today, you could easily leverage that momentum into a mission to rescue him.”

  Orun. The name only brought regret. Orun had installed the deadliest earthling title on him. And still, Johnny didn’t want to completely rule out the idea that they might see each other again. But that was a long time away, if it ever happened.

  “I can always change my mind,” Johnny said, confident in that. “But I want a promise made. If I survive, I’m done.”

  “And what about the Conifer?”

  “Someone else can have it, for all I care.”

  Zacharia nodded slowly, taking it in as if it were a serious emotional blow. Without warning, his hand extended toward Johnny. They shook. It was as cold as he remembered from the day before.

  Chapter 45

  The sun peeking through the windows, Johnny reviewed the notes Zacharia had given him. The militia representative was on his way via the shuttle. Occasionally he scratched at his neck, where the Conifer chain hung. When he gave it up, he’d probably need weeks to get used to not wearing it. Probably longer for him to stop missing the ability to cloak himself and create holograms.

  He’d never really thought about life without it. Not on as serious a note as this. Because he didn’t have the opportunity until now to break from the Watchers. The upside was that as far as survival went, he didn’t doubt he could find work as an armed guard or some kind of security person. His parents and Orun trained him to fight Anunnaki, but most of those techniques applied to humans too.

  “Hey, need a break?” Morris said in the doorway, holding a Bible under his arm and two plates of naan bread, feta cheese, and cucumbers.

  He set them down and they dug in. Or at least Johnny did. Morris hardly touched his plate.

  “How’s your studying going?” he asked quietly.

  “Okay.” Johnny shrugged. “An early lunch should help. Thanks.”

  Morris stared at the floor as if fixated on something.

  “You all right?”

  Morris exhaled. “I’ve got a lot on my plate too.”

  Johnny glanced at the untouched naan, cheese, and cucumbers on his cousin’s plate.

  “No, not this one.” Morris groaned. “I just meant, well, I thought after I learned that the Bible really was talking about aliens, I’d be happy. But it only scares me.”

  “Don’t worry. Soon the Ark will be useless. And I’ll have rescued some friends.”

  Morris lowered his voice. “You really believe what Zacharia told you?”

  “About the militia?”

  “Yeah.”

  Johnny breathed out slowly. “I don’t know, but there’s not a lot of choice.”

  Morris folded his arms, then scratched his forehead. “I used to spend a lot of time reading in the New Bagram library. Fantasy stories and ancient myths. It wasn’t uncommon for the bad guys to try to stop the hero by using his friends against him. Sometimes holding them hostage. And making him choose whether he was going to save them. But if he saved them, he had to give something up.”

  Johnny slid the scrap of naan that remained on his plate through some yogurt. Maybe that’s where the militia would come in handy. If not, all bets were off. He racked his mind for an alternative to this scenario, but fell short. Was Morris trying to help him think ahead or just preparing him for the inevitable? Either way, it was one of those things you couldn’t do a lot about. He’d made his deal with Zacharia. That had to be enough.

  Finally he shook his head. “No. I don’t think it’ll come to that. The militia will help,” he said defensively.

  “Is he talking about us?” a meek voice whispered down the hall. Footfalls followed.

  Johnny froze as Zacharia and the Eagle appeared with a small man who was wearing glasses and had the muscle tone of a raisin. Emblazoned on his red shirt was a red hand. The symbol of the Brotherhood of Humanity. Another resistance-fighter group. The sister network, or rather, the brother network, of the Watchers.

  “This is Johnny Aldrin, the deadliest earthling. And Johnny, this is Nicholas, the Brotherhood of Humanity representative,” Zacharia said with a smile lacking any real goodwill. They’d returned much sooner than he anticipated.

  Johnny stuffed his notes under his plate. He doubted they’d overheard anything from their conversation besides the last part. Still, a less than ideal way to kick off a critical meeting.

  Zacharia led them into the kitchen, where Shatha treated Nicholas to a bowl of chicken and rice stew. Meanwhile, the Brotherhood representative asked Johnny all the questions he expected. Why do you think you’re qualified for this operation? What do you bring to the table? How do you handle yourself in wide-scale combat situations? Johnny was quick to point out how he’d captured the Berserker and found a way into Kandrazi despite the Anunnaki barricades.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” Nicholas asked Johnny curtly as Shatha took his empty bowl.

  Yeah, how’d you ever end up working for the Brotherhood? He clearly wasn’t a soldier. But Johnny refrained.

  Afterward, Zacharia showed them to the dull backdrop of hilly desert in the back of the house. An M16 rifle sat on a large rock.

  “And now for a demonstration of the deadliest earthling’s firing abilities,” Zacharia said, drawing a bag of marbles out of his pocket.

  So Johnny did his thing. He turned marbles into dust with a few squeezes of the trigger. Apparently he’d also done light facial surgery. Nicholas’s eyebrows refused to drop.

  “I believe that will be all,” he said, shaking Johnny’s hand, then the Eagle’s.

  Zacharia tucked his hands behind his back, clasping them there with a curt smile. “I’ll walk Nicholas to the shuttle. Johnny, why don’t you get ready for the mission. We’ll be leaving together. Nicholas and I will be dropped off, while you and the Snake-eaters carry on to the Tabernacle.”

  Johnny spent a few minutes suiting up. There wasn’t much that he needed. Back in his makeshift room, he met Morris and folded military garb and equipment. A shiny metallic hexagon rested on his jacket’s shoulder.

  “They put these here for you,” Morris said, pointing to the hexagon. “They said that’s the chameleon scale.”

  Morris still stood there, watching him gravely.

  “Can’t get over the last time you saw me shirtless, huh?” Johnny said. Morris gave a nervous grin.

  “Okay, what?”

  Morris shook his head and waved it off. “Never mind. There’s no point in telling you now.”

  “Well, now I have to know,” Johnny said, slipping into his military uniform.

  “Before the militia guy arrived, I was trying to make a point. I’m not soldier, but I picked up a few of your teachings here and there in New Bagram.”

  “Yeah?”

  Morris drew a slow breath before he spoke. “Didn’t your military instructors teach not to give in to hostage situations?”

  It was true, but Johnny’s teachers didn’t spend much time drilling in the idea in combat school. Less than one class lecture. There wasn’t much cause to focus on the topic of hostages given that Anunnaki didn’t normally take them. They took prisoners and abducted people, but you simply never saw them again. Granted, Sledge had explained if they ever found themselves in a hostage situation on the field, never give in to the kidnapper’s demands. Because once you gave an inch, the kidnapper would see the opportunity to take more instead of releasing the hostage. Johnny felt his face drop.

  “There’s a difference between what we’re taught and what we do.”

  At least he hoped so. The truth was he didn’t even want to begin to try to sort this out. He couldn’t seem to trust anybody wholeheartedly without some seed of doubt eventually blossoming. His parents, Orun, the Eagle, Zacharia, even Hamiad. He’d hit at least one sour patch with each. Learned something dismaying about their methods.

  Johnny finished dressing into his military
jacket and extended his hand. “I appreciate the warning, but things will be okay.”

  He said it as much to convince himself as Morris.

  Morris nodded. “I’ll say a prayer.”

  They walked out into the hallway together. Sledge, a few Snake-eaters, and the Eagle were waiting.

  “All set?” Sledge said, clapping him on the shoulder.

  Johnny nodded, flushing Morris’s words out of his mind.

  The Eagle stepped up to him. “Watch yourself. There are a lot of snakes out there.”

  Chapter 46

  “We should be arriving at the Tabernacle within five minutes,” one of the pilots announced.

  Johnny tossed his bullet up and caught it before loading it into his rifle magazine. Sitting on the carpet of the massive shuttle’s interior, he honestly didn’t feel like he was on the verge of a huge mission. Because his instructors and parents had taught him that there was nothing like embarking on a mission with your comrades. They’d praised the experience as some awesome event that defined your life.

  Well, this didn’t hit that note. In actuality, he felt more worry than anticipation. He couldn’t even trust the chameleon suits to do their jobs. The shiny metallic hexagons on their shoulders sent out signals that would trick the scanners of Anunnaki surveillance so they wouldn’t detect their energy signatures. But being prototypes, the chameleon scales only worked for about ten minutes. After that, Anunnaki visors could detect them again, cloaked or not.

  The mood hanging over the rest of them couldn’t have been sharper. Sledge, Laura, and two men who were only a bit older than Johnny himself. Demo and Ninja. He remembered them from the Kandrazi bunker rescue. They sat calmly on the couches, staring at nothing in particular, rifles in their laps. They resembled the photos of Special Forces soldiers from decades ago that Johnny had seen in history books and along the walls of New Bagram classrooms. Desert camo long sleeved shirts with metallic hexagons on the shoulders, cargo pants, beige Kevlar body armor, and bandanas and boonie hats to top it all off. Plus the chameleon scales.

  In Demo’s tactical vest front pouched rested the electrostatic bomb.

  Johnny figured some of the quiet in the air came from Beyta’s death. They’d never been able to properly bury him, but the loss must’ve affected them.

  Johnny padded down his chameleon scale and rose to his feet. Laura glanced at him, a hint of concern etched into her gaze.

  He couldn’t help but feel the wrongness of this. Yes, this was technically where he was supposed to be. His parents and Orun probably would’ve been proud that he was serving with her and the Snake-eaters. But in his mind, it was Hamiad, Krem, Skunk, and Sarah he was meant to go on missions with.

  By now the jet was probably flying over the militia. Restlessness all but consuming him, he made his way to the same room he’d spoken with the Eagle in a day before. Staring out, he searched for reassurance that the militia could save his friends.

  They were coursing over barren hills and ravines. A giant stretch of pockmarked earth with a few pine trees and patches of yellow grass. A black road wound up and down through it. Bit by bit, dark specks invaded the scene. Squinting told him these were people. All aiming for one central path. The specks grew into bigger masses of white, and he realized these were the militia. Why were they all wearing white?

  “About ready?” Laura asked.

  He sensed her come up beside him.

  “Trying to be.” The silence pressed down on him as they watched the white-dressed militia growing larger and larger. Some towed donkeys or carried bundles. “Why are they all dressed that way?”

  “This area used to be religious site for Christians and its Easter. They’re pretending they’re worshippers bringing offerings.”

  “Then the bundles?”

  “They’re weapons and munitions.”

  A sea of white exploded into view. Thousands. Maybe more. An overwhelming number of soldiers. Enough for a full-scale invasion of a city, but they were only invading a dig site. And suddenly the ground rose to a ridge that sloped inward to black dirt. And Johnny knew they were there. The Tabernacle.

  The massive tower shone in the sun, a fire on its side. It sent his mind into a blitz of awe. The Tabernacle must’ve stretched hundreds of feet in the air. Even cradled by the humongous crater, it looked giant, larger than any building or structure Johnny had ever seen. Silver metal lines webbed outward through the black dirt. Together the Tabernacle and those lines resembled some kind of a geometric design. The sight teased his mind. Made him want to get rid of the glass and look with his naked eye. Like somehow the Anunnaki and slaves in dark-colored jumpsuits dotting the landscape were enjoying something he wanted badly.

  “That’s our cue,” Laura said.

  Right, they didn’t have time to spend gawking.

  They turned away from the window, Johnny’s heart dancing.

  A commotion from the main chamber caught his attention. At the same instant, the floor teetered below him. That was a first. His gut jumped with it.

  He fell back, and his shoulder smacked against the cabin wall.

  “Hang on to something,” Laura cried.

  “I thought this thing used a gravity generator,” he shouted. Even if the Anunnaki attack damaged the shuttle, the gravity generator would’ve remained intact. That was the power of mannadium and the way it was ingrained in Naga tech. To completely disable an Anunnaki craft, you had to destroy all of it, not just a portion of it.

  With a wooden groan, books plopped from the bookshelf. Balancing one hand against the wall, he pushed to hold the shelf in place. Out the window, the black dirt ground leapt up at them. He braced himself. Panic swept over him in full force.

  And just as he was staring into the impassive face of a male slave, the floor righted itself. Balance came back to him.

  “What the hell was that?” Sledge grumbled.

  Johnny saw the slave shrinking. They were flying away.

  He and Laura ran into the main cabin.

  “Sorry,” one pilot said. “The radiation from the Tabernacle is messing with our controls. I’ll have to set you down a bit farther.”

  “A bit farther?” Sledge looked exasperated.

  “Right outside the crater.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Demo said.

  This didn’t bode well. The electrostatic bomb required a few minutes to set off properly, and the crater looked to be a mile in diameter. Given that the chameleon scales’ abilities wouldn’t last long, the extra time hiking to the Tabernacle could ruin things by exposing them to Anunnaki visors.

  “I can’t fly you any closer or this thing is going to crash,” the pilot snapped. “No good taking you there if you’re dead on arrival.”

  Sledge marched toward the exit-hatch hallway. “He’s right. We’ve just got to do our best to keep to the schedule.”

  “You might as well grab your Conifer now,” Laura said.

  Johnny nodded and walked over to the pilot. The man’s hand hovered over it, still resting on his control station. “Remember, you’ve got to keep this ship cloaked for at least another ten seconds so I can fly out of sight.”

  The other pilot cocked his head to Laura. “We’ll try to monitor as much as possible, but these ships weren’t built for surveillance. Hopefully you’ll be ready for a pickup in fifteen minutes or so.”

  The first pilot nodded with a grin. “We’ll have to wing it.”

  Sledge and Laura started off down the exit chamber. Johnny followed with Ninja and Demo bringing up the rear. One by one they climbed out and onto the ground below, clicking the activation buttons on their chameleon scales.

  There Johnny watched the blue shadow form of the still-cloaked shuttle lift up and zoom into the sky. He couldn’t reliably cloak or create holograms in areas beyond his vision. So when it disappeared completely, he figured it was because it was too far away.

  The Tabernacle and the surrounding crater sprawled out before them. So huge, it seemed like he co
uld jump into it without ever falling. Disorienting, even. The sheer mass of space felt real enough to touch. A tide of unease rose in Johnny as he watched the ants that were actually Anunnaki and slaves leading to the base of the Tabernacle.

  Well, it’s not getting any closer, he thought, and joined the others descending the rock-strewn slope.

  Chapter 47

  Johnny kept a steady pace as he maneuvered over rocks and dirt. He could probably run up this slope faster than he was moving down it, but any running threatened to trigger a few rocks sliding or dust spewing up. Even something as small as that might give away their position.

  They were silent save for their groaning along with the rattle of their gear. Johnny focused on the ground beneath his boots. Little by little the brown, regular earth gave way to a blackened, coarse dirt. Radiation emitted from the Tabernacle must’ve reduced it to this.

  “Heads up,” Sledge whispered.

  A basketball-sized metal orb cruised a few dozen feet overhead. Choosing his steps carefully, Johnny widened his gait over a few white chunks of stone and a sign that said Welcome to Mount Nebo.

  They were moving at a slug’s pace, when they should’ve been running down it for their lives. For the New Bagram refugees’ lives. For the lives of every human the Anunnaki would wipe out if they got the Ark up and running.

  He constantly checked his arms and the cloaked forms of the others. Everyone maintained their shadowy transparency of the Conifer’s cloaking without any faltering. Laura had explained the chameleon suit “scales” would turn black when they stopped working. So far, they shone silver.

  “Can’t we run down?” he urged.

  Sledge cast his head from side to side.

  “It might be worth it,” Laura said. “We aren’t going to make it at this rate.”

  “I can cloak any dust or rocks that slide down,” Johnny said. Still, if they got reckless, nothing could cancel out the sound of rocks spilling, clacking over each other.