The Hidden Ship

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “You can do that? Repair one’s brain? Bring back lost memories?” I asked.

  “Most certainly. Take the big lug on the bed in there,” the chancellor said, with a smile. “Not only will he be back to work in a matter of days, better than ever, but our EMS investigative team will have a viewable reconstructed memory file to work with . . . one which will be used to reconstitute the detailed course of events that occurred within the carnival tent during the Friends Unite Day festivities. I believe you were there . . . witnessed the dreadful ordeal?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I shot Charlie, the bull,” I said, making a grim face.

  “Yes, yes . . . I know. We’re going to get into all that in just a bit. Have ourselves a good talk.”

  I glanced back at the oversized patient and realized the giant Gap was looking at me. I thought I saw recognition in his eyes, but it could have been my imagination.

  We climbed the stairs to the third floor in silence. The chancellor was letting the whole Dalm Mor Stroph situation sink in. I was well-aware he was toying with me, letting me see for myself that the Gaps suspected foul play.

  “And here we have the Enforcement Department . . . which pretty much takes up the whole third floor.”

  I saw armed marshals milling around, along with a goodly number of Humans. Five men and one woman were seated, their chairs placed against a wall, each handcuffed to the chair. Ignored by the chancellor, we strode past them and turned left at a narrow hallway. We passed three empty, brightly-lit, windowed interview rooms. We came to a stop at the fourth room, occupied by two individuals. On one side of the metal table was an irritated-looking Gap marshal, while across from him was none other than Donny Kuruk. His face was badly bruised, his swollen right eye partially closed. His bottom lip was bloodied, split in several places.

  “You are friends with the Indian boy in here . . . am I correct about that?”

  I continued to stare into the interview room. My heart rate was already elevated so I needed to control my breathing. I pictured myself pummeling mister fancy-pants next to me, the sanctimonious asshole. The only reason I managed to hold it together was because I knew I was going to kill this piece of shit someday soon. Without looking at him, I said, “He’s a Native American . . . and yes, we’re friends.” I then turned to stare up at the chancellor. “Why do you ask?”

  “Why?” he asked back incredulously.

  “Well, you’ve pummeled the living shit out of my friend in there. Something I wouldn’t have recommended doing. Donny’s not one you want to piss off.”

  “Is that a threat, Brian? Are you threatening me?”

  I merely shrugged as I turned back to watch the interview going on inside the room. “No, not a threat at all,” I lied. “What is it you want from him? From me?”

  “You know we are watching you. Your movements . . . your associations. Listening to your telephone conversations. You have become what we call ‘a person of interest’.”

  I shrugged. “That’s fine. I think you’ll discover, or continue to discover, that my life is as boring as hell. I’m a history teacher and a rancher. But hey, knock yourself out.”

  “Remember me telling you about the Quantum Manifold System on the second floor?”

  I nodded.

  “About its number-crunching capabilities, its keen ability to decipher mathematical probabilities?”

  Instead of replying, startled, I stared into the interrogation room right before us. I watched the marshal stand up then backhand Donny with a hard blow across the face. One that normally would have knocked Donny across the room, if he weren’t fastened down by handcuffs to his chair. Donny spit blood onto the floor then smiled back at his abuser. I couldn’t hear what was being said inside the room, but I watched Donny being Donny. My friend’s behavior could be incredibly annoying. If I were to guess, Donny had said something insulting. Maybe called the Gap marshal, a bumbling shit shot—one of his favorites.

  The Chancellor continued. “. . . so when a typically quiet small town, such as Castle Rock . . . with its near-zero crime rate, all of a sudden has a flurry of issues, this computer is going to notice. It’s going to inform us that the probabilities of such things occurring are way out of whack. Imagine, then, two alien marshals going missing on the same day. Their HovT smashed up after colliding into a tall oak tree. And you witnessed what happened to poor Dalm Mor Stroph . . . the very next day. Add onto those occurrences a series of strange comings and goings by certain individuals, ones we were already quite interested in. Well, the truth is, we didn’t need the Quantum Manifold System to tell us something nefarious was afoot.”

  Actually, I was relieved to hear the EMS didn’t have even more data. With all the stuff the Takebacks were up to these days, things could have been a lot worse. It didn’t seem that our session today was any more than a rousting, an attempt to get more information out of me. I figured I’d probably be the next one handcuffed in that room. Matt, too, would have his turn. No big deal.

  The Chancellor placed a heavy claw upon my shoulder. “But Brian, when a prominent, outstanding citizen is so brutally murdered in his own home, clearly, our quiet little town of Castle Rock has become something else. Something has changed here for the worse.”

  I turned to stare up at the Chancellor. “Murdered? Who’s been murdered?”

  I realized he’d been watching me. Watching my reactions.

  “One of the few dear friends I had in your community. In fact, he was to be one of the first Humans to work alongside Earupitans in this same building. Ronald Gant. I believe you know him. Although the word is you haven’t always seen eye to eye with the man. Maybe we should start right there. Let’s have ourselves a little powwow on the matter. There’s an empty room right next door.”

  chapter 21

  I tasted blood as it streamed down inside my nose and into my mouth. As far as beatings go, I’d received far worse than this one. And, surprisingly, it was not at the hand of a Gap, like the green alien sitting across from me now. It occurred about seven years ago. I was in my mid-twenties, halfway through flight school at Randolph Air Force Base, in San Antonio, Texas. A cocky, smart-mouthed junior pilot, I thought my shit didn’t stink. One night, off the military base at a local redneck bar with fellow U.S. Air Force pilots, four of us became just a little too boisterous. With too many brews consumed, and not enough food in our bellies, one of our cohorts kicked the proverbial hornet’s nest. He gave one of the pretty ladies in our midst an affectionate slap on her backside. As it turned out, she was the girlfriend of one of the local cowboys. An honest to god bar fight broke out next. Suddenly, the four of us were up against no less than ten redneck good ol’ boys. In my own defense, I wasn’t the guy who’d slapped the beautiful girl’s derrière. But, being a good team player, I sided with the squad of drunken flyboys. By the time the two local sheriffs rolled into the establishment, we’d battered seven locals onto the floor.

  We were all standing, our fists raised, but what came at us next was the biggest surprise of all. To our dismay, both sheriffs pulled their batons and joined the group opposing us—the local shit-kickers—in the fight. It ended quickly. To this day, I believe the two sheriffs continued to beat us with their sticks even after they knocked us out. It took weeks for me to look in the mirror without wincing, seeing my splotchy red reflection.

  So, yeah, though I’d just received a few backhanded slaps, a couple of punches to the face from an interrogating Gap lizard, I honestly wasn’t worried about it. Not yet, anyway. For one thing, the questions—repeated over and over—were strictly about the course of events that took place in the carnival tent. It was more about them wanting to ensure no funny business had gone on, than having any real evidence we’d done something wrong. As long as the giant Gap’s memory stayed fuzzy, we’d be fine. Apparently, my EMS interrogator did not suspect me of having anything to do with Ronald Gant’s murder, nor suspe
ct me of having five Gap Shredders in my barn back home.

  “Tell me again . . . why would you grab a marshal’s service weapon? That alone is a capital offense; one that demands quick justice. Namely, your execution!”

  I didn’t buy it. I figured if I were to be executed, that course of action would already have taken place. Nope, I was pretty sure they were only fishing at this point.

  “My concern was for poor Dalm Mor Stroph,” I said. “ He’d taken a mighty blow, either to his head or his neck, and that damn bull was still thrashing about. Truth is, I believe my actions saved the marshal from further injury. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re not thanking me. Hell, pinning a medal to my chest.”

  The Gap instead leered back at me. I was fairly certain another backhand slap was in the works when a large shape stepped close to the room’s observation window. Outside, in the hallway, stood Sleept Vogthner, Chancellor of Communications. I wondered if he’d been watching the long interview in its two-hour entirety, or if he was just now checking in on us. Seeing him there, expressionless, something else occurred to me. His eyes were set a bit farther apart than other Gaps, and his coloring was off. Like Jhally, this Gap was not an Earupitan, he was a Mannarian, which certainly explained his higher level of intelligence, but not his allegiance to the Earupitans. The way Jhally had explained it to me, the Mannarians despised the Earupitans, although they kept their feelings a secret.

  The Chancellor gave a nod to the marshal, now standing before me. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Was I wrong? Was the marshal just given a subtle order to execute me right here and now? Shit! The truth was, I never did see Donny get escorted out past the window. I wondered if Donny was already dead.

  “You can go,” the interrogator said, rising to his feet. He came around the table and unlocked the shackles on my wrists. I heard them clank to the floor.

  “Just like that? And we were just getting to know each other.”

  The alien gave me a disapproving glance before opening the door and heading away. I used the back of my hand to wipe the blood off my upper lip. The chancellor stepped into the room then stared down his reptile snout at me.

  “My friend, Donny . . . who was next door?” I asked.

  “He was released an hour ago,” he said.

  “Okay . . . I hope you’ve got everything you need from me . . . from us.”

  “Your stories don’t perfectly match. There were a number of discrepancies.”

  I didn’t react to that, only wondered which one of us had screwed up, gone off script. “Well, I’m not sure what to say about that.”

  “No need to say anything. It would be far more suspicious if all three of you had given us the exact same accounting of events. No, for now anyway, I am content none of you possessed criminal intentions. So only one of you will be facing charges.”

  “Charges?” I asked.

  “You did fire an unlawful weapon in the presence of an EMS officer, did you not, Brian?”

  “Against a thrashing, two thousand pound bull!”

  The Chancellor held his stern gaze for a full ten seconds before smiling. “Got you . . .” he said, pointing a long clawed finger toward my abdomen. Had this alien just pranked me? It took a moment for me to redirect my facial muscles, provide back with some semblance of a smile.

  “You certainly did, chancellor . . . you certainly did.”

  Placing a hand on my back, he gestured for me to now exit. “I hope there are no hard feelings, Brian. Sometimes my job requires a bit of nastiness. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Well, I know you have a difficult job. I sure wouldn’t want it,” I replied.

  He proceeded to walk me out of the Enforcement Department then back down the main corridor. A nervous-looking, fast-moving young Gap marshal approached us. “Sir?”

  The Chancellor turned to listen to the underling. Speaking in low tones, I did hear the words Prime Network, as well as intrusions, mentioned. The Chancellor nodded several times, looking concerned, then sent the young marshal away.

  “I’m sorry, Brian, but I must attend to urgent business. About to move away, he abruptly turned back to face me. “I was wondering, would you be . . . interested in having lunch with me sometime this week? Here in town?”

  The question nearly floored me. Why in hell would he want to have lunch with me? Wasn’t this the same sack dragger that had just me interrogated and slapped around? “Sure, that would be fine,” I said, hoping he wasn’t too proficient reading Human expressions.

  By the time I was halfway home, I was in a relatively good mood. Sure, there was the chance I could be dragged back to the OEC again. But this time, the charges would stick and I’d be executed. I had growing concerns, too, about the idiot giant’s memory coming back. But I only needed a few days more to finalize our plans. After that, it was time for a payback. A payback I doubted I’d survive.

  All of a sudden, the sun above became momentarily blocked, and the road ahead fell into deep shadow. Peering through the windshield, I watched a kind of Gap Troop Carrier vessel make its way south. As the flatbed open aircraft flew past me overhead, I could see two thousand, or so, armed Gap soldiers packed together within the big flying Frisbee. I’d witnessed two similar craft earlier this morning, also headed in the same direction. It looked like the infantry troops on board were readying for battle. The only problem was—no one was left to go to battle against, the Gaps had already won the war on Earth.

  chapter 22

  Gauz Za Chiv proudly wore his uniform’s new additions; he took every opportunity to parade around in front of his troops to show them off. Still the same black and red colors of the Earupitan Landing Forces, but he now wore ornate shoulder epaulets and several new colorful ribbons upon his chest. The Hammer Fist patch, worn upon his upper arm, was now a bright, reflective gold. No longer the uniform of a Commander, Level 2, but that of a General, Level 8. Apparently, all due to his two highly successful land campaigns—first, for European Sector’s Valle d’Aosta, Italy and then, North American Sector’s, Armonk, New York. Surprisingly, the two successful eradications had made an impression upon his Eminence, Overlord Skith. And he’d recently learned that the campaign covering this small township would be the final one of their Phase II tests. Next, would come worldwide deployment and mass extinction of the entire Human race—all based on Chiv’s recent small townships campaigns. Only then would the hundreds of thousands of armed Earupitan ground forces, and many hundreds of the far larger atomizer domes, be deployed in a unilateral, worldwide, onslaught.

  Chiv barked off orders to his junior officers. The assembly bots were to be unloaded off the nearby XL5 Crusher lander vessel. It would be hours yet before the Human roundups would commence.

  Chiv noticed the approach of the HovT craft. He’d reached out to the local Chancellor of Communications, Sleept Vogthner, just an hour earlier, requesting his prompt presence here on site. The confinement pens and the atomizer dome weren’t assembled yet, so—as far as anyone else was concerned—the site looked just like any other military encampment.

  Chiv raised a scaly, green hand high in the air, signaling the HovT where to land. He turned away as debris swirled underneath the lowering craft, and only turned back once the craft had settled on the ground and one of the gull-wing doors lifted up. General Chiv approached the surprisingly well-dressed, albeit garbed in a ridiculous Human business suit, Chancellor. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice, Chancellor Vogthner. Please open up the other door for me. We’re going for a short ride.” Sleept Vogthner did as asked, then waited for the military leader to take his seat.

  —————

  Lifting off, Chancellor of Communications Sleept Vogthner appraised the small military leader with a quick sideways glance. Gazing out through the side window, he noticed more ground forces now hurrying down the gangway of the oversized Crusher lander ship. Already aware o
f the newly arrived ground forces in Castle Rock, he, too, had witnessed the disk-like, open-air transports whisking from one indeterminate location to another. Word had it, some kind of military exercise was going on. But, then again, there was evidence to the contrary.

  “Chancellor, I am General Gauz Za Chiv. Chiv pointed a clawed finger toward the distant horizon. “Let’s take a little flying jump to that large rock over there.”

  Vogthner nodded and adjusted their new course setting appropriately. “I was surprised to receive your summons this morning. It sounded important, so I rearranged my schedule for you.” Vogthner wanted to make it clear to Chiv he wasn’t part of his military hierarchy. In fact, as far as he was concerned, they held approximately equal levels of authority.

  “Let’s set down right on top of that rock. Would that be possible, Chancellor Vogthner?” the general asked.

  “Of course!” High above the massive block of solid granite, Vogthner began his descent—the HovT’s landing thrusters fully engaged. General Chiv had his door swinging upward, began climbing out, even before the craft had fully set down. Vogthner, after powering down the small craft, also climbed out. Seeing the general standing close to the edge of the rock, Vogthner went over and joined him. He never much liked heights but tried not to let show his present discomfort.

  “We’re four hundred feet above the supporting plateau. Did you know the township, Castle Rock, was named after this castle-shaped natural rock monument?” Vogthner asked, standing at General Chiv’s side. Before their eyes, the quaint little town nestled a thousand feet below. In the distance were several upscale neighborhoods, although mostly sprawling ranchlands encompassed the hilly landscape. Vogthner continued, “I understand that native Human tribes once inhabited this land. The Arapaho and Cheyenne people.”

  “Like the Humans living on this world today, all are primitive savages,” General Chiv said in disgust, turning toward Vogthner.