“Does my friend Dalm Mor Stroph need to give you a little reminder?” I asked.
“No need for your ridiculous threats,” the general spat. “At this point, my execution would be a forgone conclusion. Earupitan High Command does not take kindly to failure. I will do as you ask.” He glanced down at Stroph’s hand. “Please have this freakish marshal remove his hand from my shoulder.”
As if on cue, an incoming hail chimed. Mike said, “Royal Guard . . . air command. Should we accept?”
“It’s now or never . . . what’s the worst that can happen, other than us being blown out of the sky. Put him through to General Chiv,” I directed.
chapter 44
No less than thirty vessels, an assortment of Shredders and other just as dangerous fighter crafts, rose up from below, surrounding our NightHawks squadron from all sides.
“We’re totally screwed now . . .” I heard Mike murmur into my ear puck.
A stern-looking officer with close-set eyes and wearing a dark red, visorless cap, one that reminded me of the caps worn by U.S. Navy Sailors—back when there were sailors—and back when there was a U.S. Navy. Although only the top portion of his upper body was visible, I could see an angled sash across his chest—adorned with an assortment of shiny medals and colorful ribbons. I assumed he was high up within the Earupitan Royal Guard. Although his angry sounding words were spoken in Earupitan, I could guess what his demands were. Fortunately, I had Vogthner whispering into my ear puck providing a translation.
“Halt! This is a restricted airspace. You will identify yourself and progress no further!”
General Chiv’s battered and equally angry face appeared on my HUD sharing a split-screen feed with the Royal Guardsman.
“How dare you speak to me in such a tone!” Chiv said with Vogthner’s somewhat delayed translation. “I have a mind to put you on report. Now tell me who it is I am addressing, and be quick about it,” Chiv demanded.
The guardsman’s beady eyes scrutinized Chiv’s appearance clearly curious to know the reasons for his facial injuries, but also not comfortable interrogating a senior officer. “I am Colonel Haing and I apologize, General . . . no disrespect was intended. Even so, this is a restricted—”
Chiv broke in, “Are you a complete idiot? Who do you think dispatched this squadron? We are here on the direct orders of his Eminence, Overlord Skith, himself.”
“His Eminence? Why have I not been—”
Again, Chiv cut him off, “Are you so clueless you know not of the rebel attacks in the North American sector? The total defeat of our Earupitan ground troops at the Castle Rock encampment?”
“Well, yes, General, we have heard . . . well, in truth the information has been sketchy at best.”
“Let me ask you this, Colonel, are you not concerned with the Maiden Sow’s welfare? Would you have the overlord’s wife slaughtered when a surprise attack befalls this location?”
“I assure you, General, there is no more secure location on this planet.”
“I see. Perhaps you are right. I will instruct my captain to simply turn this squadron around. Perhaps Overlord Skith will be fine with a mere Colonel countermanding his orders.”
Listening to Chiv’s superior and snarky tone, I had to give it to the Earupitan general. He was selling this bullshit like no one else could.
“Again, I apologize, sir. Perhaps if you would allow me simply to verify his Eminence’s orders? Just a few minutes while we confirm his wishes.”
“By all means. It is only your career, or what is left of it, that is at stake. And I am certain that by you transmitting this highly classified information onto an already compromised Earupitan comms system . . . revealing the whereabouts of the Maiden Sow would be of little concern to him. Maybe while you are at it, you should put out a general announcement across all comms channels for all, friend and foe alike, to tune into.”
Colonel Haing looked to be in physical pain. “Sir . . . what is it you wish me to do, General Chiv?”
“Exactly what I said, “Get the Maiden Sow up and about. Have her things packed and ready to go in ten minutes. She’s being transported into space to join her husband where she can be far better protected.”
The Colonel grimaced hearing Chiv’s stinging words. “I assure you. She will be ready. Please . . . my Adjunct Fighting Squad will now escort you in.”
Only now could I see the distant landmass of Cuba rising up along the distant horizon. Mike provided our HUDs with an updated logistical feed. It looked like the little town of Viñales was about one hundred and ten miles due west of Havana. We would be there in mere minutes. Looking around, I had the distinct feeling our Shredders were being highly scrutinized by our alien escorts. I wondered if they were they capable of scanning our vessels—perhaps determine our Human DNA? Or had Mike contrived some kind of shielding for such a thing?
One of the alien vessels, a kind of small warship, veered closer to mine. I could almost make out the contours of the Gap’s lizard-like profile—could he see me with the same clarity? Sure, our canopies were tinted, but were they tinted enough?
“I don’t like this,” I heard Karen say. “He’s like looking right at you, Brian.”
I turned and looked over my shoulder toward her—could see her Shredder Three right off my port wing. “I think we’re okay . . . I mean, I can’t see you. Not really. Not with the amount of glare off that canopy. There’s nothing we can do about it anyway. It’s not like we can hide ourselves.”
“No, but I can fire before I’m fired upon,” she said.
“Just cool your jets, girl . . . nobody’s firing at anything, yet. As far as the Gaps are concerned, this is just a routine encounter. And there isn’t a one of them that would believe a Human was capable of flying one of these birds.”
“Uh huh . . . ,” she said, not sounding remotely convinced.
Mike cut in, “Here we go. I’ve forwarded the Gaps’ landing zone parameters to your HUDs.
As we crossed over Cuba’s landmass, I marveled at how green and lush the countryside was. Approaching the town of Viñales, I saw the terrain had turned rocky and mountainous with a muddy river coursing through a narrow valley. The nearby town itself was basically a narrow lane bordered on both sides by a few rickety shacks. Directly south of the town was a large circular area about a half-mile in circumference, completely void of vegetation. Upon closer examination, though, I saw the land had been brutally stomped down—creating a kind of indented span of darkened earth. The adverse effects of multiple gravity-disruptor cannons doing their nasty business. I tried not to think about the scores of indigenous wildlife killed for the lone purpose of procuring a suitable landing pad.
Our squadron of NightHawks set down in unison with the XL5 positioned closest to where a darkened, triangular-shaped, crevice dominated the facing of a rocky hillside. This was the entrance to the subterranean caves, I assumed. I instructed the other pilots to keep their power plants going—be ready for a fast getaway if the need arises.
A half dozen of the Royal Guards’ spacecraft set down along the outer perimeter of the landing pad—doing so in a way their armaments were pointed inward toward our NightHawks squadron.
“They have requested the general’s presence . . . within the cave,” Vogthner said. It’s some kind of protocol. The Maiden Sow must be presented with a high-ranking escort.”
“No . . . I don’t trust Chiv any farther than I can throw him,” I said. “Once he’s inside that cave, all bets could be off. You’ll have to go with him.”
“Me . . . who’s wearing a torn and bloodied business suit?”
I thought about that a moment. “Captain Guart . . . he was about your size, I’m sure he had more than one uniform.”
“I’m also Mannarian . . .” Vogthner added.
“I don’t care. Hurry up and get dressed. I want your ear puck HUD
activated so I can see everything going on in real time.”
I hadn’t noticed them prior, but now I did. There were multiple teams of Royal Guard sentries moving behind that dense foliage within the surrounding jungle. It made sense that there would be.
It was another ten minutes before I saw the XL5’s gangway start to lower down to the ground. A moment later, General Chiv, Chancellor Vogthner, and an armed Gap marshal that I recognized, who was also wearing another crewmember’s uniform, all strode down the ramp and headed off toward the cave’s entrance. I could see Vogthner’s activated HUD—a bluish translucent dome situated over the upper portion of his body. I took note of the transmitted feed within my Shredder’s Heads Up Display—I both heard and saw everything the chancellor was hearing and seeing.
I watched as Chiv, Vogthner, and the marshal were met by a contingent of seven Earupitans. Colonel Haing bowed slightly as General Chiv and the others approached.
“Welcome to the caves of Viñales,” the colonel said, eyeing both Vogthner and the disguised marshal, but Chiv made no overture to introduce them to him.
They all continued down a wide and meandering pathway. The farther in they all went, the more breathtaking the surroundings became. This had been a popular Cuban tourist attraction at one time—the lighting was dramatic, hidden spotlights splayed here and there onto the massive and jagged stalactites above. “As you can imagine, we are on a tight schedule, Colonel,” Chiv said impatiently.
They walked for what I guessed was about a mile—far enough that I was beginning to get concerned I’d lose Vogthner’s HUD transmission.
Dark, ominous, clouds were rolling in overhead and within minutes it had started to rain. Soon it was a torrential downpour so extreme it was nearly impossible to see out my canopy. The constant drumming of raindrops made it hard to hear what was being said deep within the cave—not that much discussion was going on at present.
“Hey, Brian, seems you’ve got a lookie-loo coming up on your six,” I heard Mike say. “An armed sentry meandering through the squadron.”
“I’m surprised you can see anything through this downpour,” I said.
“Yeah, well the XL5’s optics can pick up infrared signatures.”
Then I saw him. A shadow of a figure moving around off to my right down below. “Shit . . . I think he’s climbing up onto the wing,” I said. “Without the sun’s glare, he’ll be able to see right inside my canopy. And see my all too human-looking face.”
The dark figure stepped closer. I could now see he had his rifle slung over one shoulder. He loomed over me and was looking directly at me. He swung his head a little to the right and then left—as if by repositioning his perspective it would give him a better vantage at what he was looking at. Fuck! He was leaning in now, bringing his dripping wet face closer in to the canopy. He was cupping his hands around his eyes as to better see inside the cockpit—to better see me.
His eyes went wide with astonishment as realization took hold. As he now saw exactly who it was that was piloting this Shredder. A Human. An enemy.
chapter 45
In that split second I stared right back at him—incapable of stopping this train wreck of a catastrophe, knowing there was no way to keep this looming sentry from calling out in frantic alarm. Like a frenetic drum roll, the rain continued to pour down. And then, oddly, there was another dark form standing right behind him. I leaned forward and squinted my eyes, as if that could possibly improve the visibility outside. Perhaps in that moment the rain had let up, just a little, or perhaps a tad more light had pierced through the thick cloud bank above. But in that moment, I saw him. Shawn McGee—Spartacus. The Krav Maga MMA mixed martial arts master who was a full foot and a half shorter than this towering Gap. McGee moved fast. I watched as he thrust a foot down hard at the back of the sentry’s lower leg—buckling the knee joint. A lightning fast uppercut slammed the alien’s chin up high. This was followed with a kind of sideways chopping motion to the Gap’s now fully exposed larynx. All movements were fast and efficient. As the sentry staggered, both hands now clutching at his crushed air pipe, McGee unleashed a spinning back kick that not only lifted the alien up off his feet, but propelled him right off the Shredder as well. I caught a glimpse of a toothy grin before the Krav Maga master leapt from the wing and then was pulling the dead sentry through the mud by the nape of his collar. The rain was pouring down so hard now that unless you were staring directly at the XL5’s gangway, you wouldn’t have noticed the darkened shapes ascending up into the ship’s hold.
“Did I really see that . . . or did I imagine it?” Karen asked.
“No, you saw it. Let’s just hope nobody else did. And that the sentry isn’t missed prior to us getting out of here.”
“Copy that,” she said.
I shifted my attention back to my HUD and the dark cavern. I wasn’t completely sure what it was exactly I was now looking at. Someone, or something was approaching Vogthner and Chiv’s position.
I heard Mike’s voice over the comms, “What the fuck? So this is the Maiden Sow? She’s like, enormous.”
I caught glimpses of her bulk as she passed beneath overhead spotlights. Creamy white in color, she was basically an overgrown, segmented, maggot. A maggot with a small head that, surprisingly, was reptilian looking. She was easily seven feet tall and ten feet long. Basically the girth of a fully grown hippopotamus. How her six short, spindly legs supported so many hundreds of pounds was a mystery to me. Each of her approaching labored steps was accompanied by strained sighs. And then there was the loud flatulence—farting sounds that kept perfect cadence with each of her labored steps. Coming up the path behind her, were multiple hard-case trunks that had been piled high onto a kind of hover-sled. Two Gap guardsmen were necessary to maneuver the sled while keeping the cases from toppling off one side or the other.
Most surprising was her voice. It was soft, high-pitched, and had a kind of sweetness about it. I didn’t need to have Vogthner’s translation to know she was apologizing for her slow pace, or maybe her flatulence, or both.
The hand off was uneventful. The Maiden Sow was accompanied by Colonel Haing and his Royal Guard as far as the cave’s opening.
Colonel Haing said, “If I may ask . . . will the Maiden be returning to us anytime soon, General?”
Chiv, already heading out into the rain, didn’t bother turning around, only saying, “I wouldn’t count on it.”
Vogthner and the marshal had taken over the precarious steering of the hover sled while Chiv and the Maiden Sow, now walking side-by-side, sloshed forward through the mud. By the way the General kept looking over to her, seeing his peculiar expression, it was becoming more and more apparent that he was quite taken, enamored even, with her.
“Shit!” Mike said. “Okay . . . we need to get this shit show on the road. Earupitan chatter is all a buzz about us. High command is now aware that both Humans and EMS Marshals were responsible for the Castle Rock attack. And their equivalent of an all-points bulletin has just been issued for our NightHawks squadron.”
“So . . . has the Royal Guard here, Colonel Haing, put two and two together yet?” Karen asked.
“No . . . but they may be getting suspicious. All the more reason to get that monumental slug to hurry things up.”
I watched as they continued to move painfully slow up the ramp. Halfway up they had to stop so she could rest. I saw the Maiden Sow huffing and puffing there, trying to catch her breath. My eyes kept flashing over to the surrounding trees where untold hundreds of Royal Guardsmen might just start shooting at us at any moment.
“Screw it. It’s now or never. Donny . . . Matt, get whomever you need to help bring everyone on board. Go! Hurry! Mike . . . get that ship airborne!”
chapter 46
With our spirits lifted, the NightHawks rocketed up through Earth’s stratosphere at a sharp, nearly straight up, angle. Truth was, I ha
lf expected our previous good fortune to be dashed at any moment. Enemy Shredders could show up on our HUDs—blips on our displays—following behind us in close pursuit. Or perhaps innumerable space fighters could have been deployed by one or all of those high-orbit Situational Command Ships—ready to obliterate us in a matter of seconds.
The sky darkened as we progressed higher from the mesosphere and into the thermosphere. It occurred to me I had absolutely no idea how to fly this craft in space. Would the controls respond far differently in a weightless environment? Was there something we were supposed to do prior to reaching Earth’s low orbit—maybe a switch to flip?
I selected a closed channel on my HUD controls. “Mike, any chance Jhally has come around yet?” I asked.
It was a full minute before Mike said, “Sorry, man . . . just checked. Got him situated in an officer’s quarters. He’s breathing. But no real change.”
I tapped at a few more virtual buttons until a wide angle feed of the Control Center came into view. I saw General Chiv was back at the helm along with the same marshal who had escorted him into the cave.
Mike said, “The plan . . . um, is still to head directly to the Moon? That Solaris Habitat thing?”
“Affirmative.”
“There will be defenses. Probably a shit load of ships.”
“Undoubtedly there will be,” I said closing the channel.
Apparently there was no magical switch I had needed to flip, as it was now completely dark outside my Shredder’s canopy. I said into our squadron’s dedicated channel, “How about this? We’re officially astronauts.”
The view truly was spectacular. A million twinkling stars against an obsidian backdrop. The moon as bright as a lone headlight on a deserted night’s street, some two hundred thirty-eight thousands miles away, beckoning us onward.
I hailed Karen. “Go for Karen.”
“What could be better than this?” I asked.
The Hidden Ship Page 23