OUTPOURING: Typhoon Yolanda Relief Anthology

by Dean Francis Alfar

  But out here in space.

  I looked down to my hands and opened and clenched my fists, testing them. I coalesced my will and searched for a spark. No, I was too weak. But before I could act, I needed answers.

  “How did you arrive here, John Cordell?” I asked. “How did you find me?” A better question was, how long had it been? How much damage had they caused? Was Earth already lost? Was there still time to save them? He answered to the best of his ability:

  “It’s been six weeks since you left Earth, Doran. We detected your flight on satellite, but you never returned to us. And once the 13 and,” he paused and said the name with a fair amount of caution this time. I gritted my teeth. “…and Aeliana began their attack, we knew something was wrong. They would have never attacked Earth unless—” He put his head down, troubled. “So they sent me to find you. I arrived by shuttle.”

  “And I thank you for this, John.” I replied. “Without your assistance, I’d still be in there with those cells.”

  He nodded and didn’t reply.

  I thought about what he said to me. It didn’t surprise me they sent one of their own, doubtless one of their best, in pursuit, to see what fate had befallen their hero. Nor did it surprise me the denizens of Earth kept track of my movement. I was certainly a curiosity to them, as much as they saw me as a protector.

  “And the Earth?” I asked finally. “Its people?”

  “We’re fighting them the best we can, Doran, but we’re losing. I’m afraid without you, we’re— we’re—” His words stopped in mid-sentence, as if pulled by a great weight. He seemed ashamed of his need. I immediately understood this man. I understood his worry, and the more I spoke to him, the more I could relate to him. Despite his human limitations, he’d fight to death, if need be, as he must have known I would. I also understood the gravity of what he was telling me.

  Earth was in trouble, and there was ample reason to believe it

  The 13 were ruthless, relentless in their quest to dominate and control. I’d faced the females before and beaten them back. But they would not stop until John and his people were enslaved. Once they’d exhausted the planet of its resources, Earth would be destroyed, and they’d move on. Their tactics were simple. If I didn’t act soon—but I felt so drained. How could I stand against them at my present strength? It would return eventually, I knew, but I needed that strength now, the power I’d grown so accustomed to, before it was too late.

  I knew what had to be done.

  I needed what was in those cells.

  He watched on as I examined the control panel, its various switches and dials, its connective wires leading into the adjacent room. I walked over to the glass shielding and inspected it, too.

  “Open the door,” I said, finally. I was satisfied with my inspection. There wasn’t time to waste.

  “There’s got to be another way,” he replied. He must have understood what I was about to do. “It could kill you,” he said. But at this, I simply smiled. I’d been here before, countless times. Risk came with the territory. Though the situations changed, and my adversaries were always different, one thing remained true: RISK. It was a constant. In fact, I’d grown accustomed to it.

  “I need the power in those cells,” I told him. “It didn’t kill me before, and I have no intention of dying now. You needn’t worry.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure if anything could kill me. I continued: “Earth will fall if we don’t act. We both know it. We’re out of time. Open the door. And once I’m back in there, see that control panel behind you? Smash it to pieces. Smash it until you’re sure it’s destroyed. Then step back. Return to your shuttle. I won’t be far behind.” He continued to stare at me, doubtful, fear clouding his eyes. I did my best to calm him. “It’s just like a human brain, John Cordell. You destroy the mind, the body will no longer function. It can’t act. I’ll take care of the rest. You needn’t worry,” I repeated.

  “But you’ll be locked in there with those… cells. What if something goes wrong?”

  “Trust me,” I said. “Have I ever let you down?”

  I winked at the human.

  He paused, one the verge of saying something else, nodded then, and went silent. He knew what needed to be done, as well as I. He would do the same, if he were capable. All that separated us were our differences of ability. But we were out of time. I could only imagine the devastation the 13 had already caused, what was behind him. Six weeks? I was surprised the man before me was alive, that the planet he had come from was still holding.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  Good.

  This done, I returned my attention to the adjacent room, and my eyes narrowed. A hot anger started to well up within me. I didn’t bother to control it. I’d need it in the moments to come.

  You took something from me, Aeliana, I thought. I want it back.

  #

  Lights fluttered and flashed in a kaleidoscope of glowing reds and yellows around him. This was accompanied by a thin, hornet-like hum. It filled the hallway, his head, with a sound that was subtle, yet growing more menacing with every passing moment. It began with the opening of the door, the destruction of the controls (he’d used a chair, then finally resorted to his blaster), the second Doran set to the task of deplenishing the cells.

  An alarm was triggered.

  The lights he saw now, the ominous sound reverberating in his head; it was as if the station was a living and breathing thing around him. He expected, at any moment, to feel the searing heat of a laser. Or to hear doors sealing ahead, behind, closing him in, trapping him, cutting him of his lifeline of controlled gravity and much-needed oxygen. Though it would have hindered his movement, he regretted his decision to remove his space suit. Why the alarm was not triggered before made him uneasy. Just as it made him uneasy to recall the station was unguarded and empty on his arrival.

  Were the alien invaders this sure of themselves? Did they think Earth wouldn’t put up a fight?

  Well, they were wrong, though he certainly hadn’t expected it to go down as unproblematically as it did. His only guess was Doran was doing exactly what he said he’d do: he was taking the energy of the cells back into his body, collecting it, recharging himself, like a plant soaking up the sun’s rays, and the reversal was sensed by the station’s computers. What the artificial mind thought it could do to stop Doran’s efforts, however, was anyone’s guess. Doran wasn’t human, far from it. He wasn’t like himself nor any of the others who inhabited Earth: he was SUPER-HUMAN. Once he regained his strength, even a modicum of it, he could very well smash the station in two, if he considered it enough of a threat to do so, like giant asteroids punching craters into a small moon.

  How much time? 15 minutes? A half hour? The earthman didn’t entertain the thought longer than he felt was necessary. Instead, it fueled him on, kept him moving forward.

  He gritted his teeth, gripped his blaster tight, and kicked up his pace a notch.

  Before exiting the control room, he ventured to take a final look in the containment zone, despite what he’d been instructed. Doran was there, his legs apart, his arms across his chest, his head down in bowed silence. The sight of the hero standing quietly before the cells was breathtaking. And as he watched him, he debated whether he should leave Earth’s greatest protector unaided, with the life-depleting cells.

  Return to your shuttle. I won’t be far behind.

  But wouldn’t it have had more sense to remain? After all, the cells were dangerous. He might have been able to pull him away, out of their reach, if something went wrong. But he trusted Doran’s judgment. If the station chose to defend itself, challenged Doran with its artificial muscle and might, it would do so there, at the cells, at the source. It would attack him with every alien and technological means at its disposal.

  No, it wasn’t safe for him to remain. Doran was right. He must move and do so quickly.

  So he turned and exited and started his long journey back to the shuttle.

&
nbsp; As he ran, John Cordell didn’t see the pair of mechanical eyes smoldering and watching him in the dim light…

  #

  I reached out to the cells…

  The drain on my body was instantaneous.

  Hurry, John. Hurry. They’re coming.

  #

  John rounded another corner, his booted feet lightly pounding the floor of the shuttled corridor. The lights and electrified buzz of the alarm continued to fill his sight, his ears. It seemed the hornet-like hum was getting stronger, louder, more acute. His brain felt dull and heavy with it. Whatever Doran was doing, it must be working. He figured he couldn’t be more than 100 paces away from his shuttle.

  From the control room behind him, he heard a loud crash. Was it the cells? To hear it at this distance, Doran’s struggles must have been very great.

  He increased his speed.

  A thick burst of sparks flooded the hallway.

  Coming to a halt, he instinctively lowered his visor and raised and readied his blaster, trying to discern what was ahead of him through the smoke and haze.

  The earthman’s heart stopped.

  For there, a monstrous shape began to take form, veiled amid the acrid smoke. With a metallic CLANK and CLING, steel grinded on hard steel. Sparks sizzled like electrified snakes around its body, and as it rose to its full height, he took a step back in horror. It stood nearly a head taller than himself, humanoid in form but not in function or detail. Like the space station around it, its body was encased in a slick, silvery steel.

  So the station was alive. Though it let him in, easily enough, the artificial mind wouldn’t allow him to exit, at least not without a fight.

  He quickly stole a glance over his shoulder, thought about returning the way he’d come, heard a second crash, then decided against it. The shuttle was ahead of him, to the back of this electric monstrosity, not behind, so he did as he was trained to do.

  He fired.

  And he fired again.

  Every shot, though on target, ricocheting across that hot steel.

  It lurched toward him, its face, now fully visible, contorted in an inhuman smile, its eyes burning a bright yellow. By the time he realized it, it was too late. Huge, metallic fists reached out and gripped him tightly about the throat, its yellow eyes continuing to smolder in the dim light. John dropped his blaster and brought his own hands up, unable to pry the hands away, burning his flesh. His feet struggled for a foothold that was scarcely inches below him. But rather than crush him, it dropped him to the floor, suddenly, its attention no longer on him.

  “Stand aside,” a familiar voice said.

  He pushed himself back to the wall, choking as he did, and stole a second glance down the hallway.

  And there he was… as bright as a gleaming SUN.

  #

  When a star goes supernova, the explosion emits enough light to overshadow an entire solar system, even a galaxy. Such explosions can set off the creation of new stars.

  In its own way, it was not unlike being born.

  #

  Its heavy feet clanked the floor like steel drums, its massive hands clenched in burning knots of white light. It left the earthman at its side, presumably forgotten, to die.

  My eyes took on their own incandescence, matching its own.

  It gained speed, revving itself up, as an engine would.

  So I didn’t hesitate. I gained my own momentum.

  Within.

  I spread my arms wide, then brought them close together again. Searching for a spark, I found it. A hot, sweltering heat began to well up inside of me, coalescing there between my cupped hands. It threatened to bubble over. But I’d learned to control it. Direct it. Bow it to my will. At this strength, my body was hyperaware, sensitive to every sound, every movement, sensory information processing at 100, maybe 1000 times, that of a normal human. My mind flashed in wave after perceptive wave of consciousness, the synapses triggering one response after another.

  I was at my full strength, no longer weak and made vulnerable by the life-depleting cells. The reversal wasn’t a simple task, as I knew it wouldn’t be. The task before me was much, much greater.

  Such responsibility, I thought. So many lives at stake. An entire world to save.

  But first things first—

  We crashed headlong into each other. It struck out once. Twice. I raised my fists and pummeled back, striking its metallic form over and over. Spark after spark teemed and poured throughout the shuttled hallway. The mechanical man was strong, but I was stronger. I dipped my hands into its torso, grabbing wire after wire, its life dissolving like puddles of rain before me. As it broke, it stood there, for a moment longer, in the light of the space station alarm, the hum, then fell to its knees, then to the ground with a steel clang.

  I took a final glance down to it, satisfied.

  “Doran! Behind you!”

  But I’d already sensed their coming.

  I turned to face them.

  #

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m alive,” he replied. He was rubbing his neck. “I’m sure glad to see you.”

  “Can you stand?”

  “Yes, I think so.” I reached out to steady him. “Jesus, I’ve never seen anything—”

  The alarm was silent. It was over.

  “It was only a machine, John Cordell. We don’t have to worry about it now.”

  But it appeared I misunderstood him. As I was soon to discover, his concerns ran much deeper.

  He studied my face, long and hard, and said,

  “I’ve heard the stories, Doran, but—” He began to stutter, fumbling for the words to say. “This strength you possess, these powers. It’s not human.”

  I smiled.

  “Why do you smile?” he asked uneasily.

  “Well, I’m not human,” I replied. “We can both be thankful for this, too.”

  Even so, I understood his uneasiness. As he watched on, I dismantled a half score of the electric monstrosities in front of him, like they were mere toys. They attacked him less than 100 paces away from his shuttle, moments before I intercepted. He was lucky to be alive. With my powers restored, I could only imagine how I appeared to him.

  He studied my face a moment longer. I could see he was attempting to take it all in.

  “Why are you helping us, Doran? Where do you come from?”

  “This isn’t the time nor the place,” I said, reaching out to him. “Let’s return you to your shuttle, John.”

  “Not yet,” he said, pressing me further. “Listen, you could be anything, do anything. Why risk your life for us?”

  I lowered my face and looked away. I’d seen this look before. What could I say to him? These humans were so frail, so alone in the universe. They needed a protector, something to believe in. They needed a chance. If there was a God, a Creator, or many of them, I didn’t know, and I couldn’t be this to them, but it was foolish to leave them to their own devices. Either they might destroy themselves, in time, or beings from other worlds, distant galaxies, like Aeliana and the 13, would take advantage of their human frailty and—

  Aeliana.

  I clenched my teeth, not in fear. I was capable of fear, but I seldom felt it. It was anger I felt.

  Why? Why would she regard the beings of this small, struggling world as if they were but playthings? Did she not see them as I saw them? She couldn’t.

  “I’d like to think I was sent to Earth for a reason, John Cordell.”

  “A reason?” he asked. “What reason?”

  “Hope,” I said quietly, looking back to him. “The answer you’re looking for is hope.”

  He cocked his head slightly to one side. “Hope for Earth, you mean.”

  I nodded.

  “Do these powers of yours allow you to see our future then, as well, Doran? What does the future hold for us?”

  Again, I smiled.

  They had so much potential.

  “No, I can’t see the future,” I replied. “I
don’t know what the future holds anymore than you do. But you’re a good people, and where there is good, there is always hope. You may not see it just yet, but you will in time.” I paused, allowing the words to sink in. If I could be anything to this earthman and his kind, I would be this. Hope. “You need to understand something, human,” I said. I didn’t mean it as an insult. I could see it in his face he didn’t take it as such. “I wouldn’t be standing before you now, if it weren’t for your courage. I’d still be in there with those cells. You can thank yourself for this. Not these,” I looked down at my hands, “powers of mine. I would like to call you friend, John, if I may. I would like that very much.”

  His eyes went somewhere else then, and recognition lighted his face. We were the same, him and I. I think he understood.

  “Can you walk?” I asked.

  “I think so, Doran.”

  “Good,” I said. “Come. Let’s get you to your shuttle. There’s work to do. We have a planet to save.”

  #

  The shuttle exited the station, its occupant safely tucked inside. I watched it, as it gained speed, leaving the station and me far behind it.

  And there she was, my destination, a blue planet, a planet teeming with forests, mountains, rivers, other things, too: human occupants who’d struggled, fought through the centuries, searching for a foothold and a place to call their own.

  Searching for their own humanity and the good I knew was within them.

  But this was their Earth. Their time to be tested. I could never call it completely my own. But I would defend them. I would aid them and give them the chance they needed, even if it meant my own life. Why? Well, it was what I was made to do.

  Does the sun ask why it shines?

  I paused, a second longer, glancing down to my arms, my legs, the bright spidery shapes of yellow, embroidered across the deep black.

  There was POWER here.

  STRENGTH, incredible strength, strength returned to me, thanks to the courage of the man who called himself John Cordell.